Post by Non Compos Mentis on Apr 16, 2006 7:39:49 GMT -5
[The scene opens with darkness at first and only the noise of intensely creepy traditional fairground music and the faint cheers and boos of a crowd near by.
From this darkness we appear to move up slightly and realise that the blackness was in fact only very dark green in the twilight conditions we find ourselves standing in. The green colour is found from the grass we are standing on whilst flashing colours from several of the carnival rides distort our vision slightly.
We take a look around and see the various attractions that are scatters around this old fashioned travelling carnival. Firstly, only several feet away to our right is the traditional freak show consisting of a bearded lady that look suspiciously like a man only with long hair, the fat man, the twin set of midgets and the human werewolf.
Beyond that is the fortunetellers. An old woman stands outside smoking what appears to be Marijuana but she tells the customers that it is only tobacco and will in no way influence her ‘Powers’.
To our left is the traditional games area with hoop throwing events, water guns, and other amusements that the hosts say are certainly not fixed but secretly the customer knows that they all are and only pays for the privilege of playing because they want that fluffy toy bunny for their kid or that the hosts look like they need the money more.
In the distance to our left is the giant Ferris wheel that is constantly rotating until the old crone at the controls decides they have had “Enough gaddamn fun” for one night and shut it off whilst one pair gets off and then he rotates it again and again and again as the rest find their way of.
Across from us is the oldest, most rickety building that there is in the carnival. The apparent mud covered walls provide very little cover for the inside of the building. There appears to be a sign placed above the gab between the jagged, corrugated iron walls that marks the entrance and exit to the hellhole. The cardboard sign says in red paint “House of mirrors”.
A man emerges from inside the building with a searchlight and takes a seat in a splintered wreck of a deck chair that looks like it has been scavenged from an sunken ship. He lays his head back against the muck-covered wall and shuts his eyes and begins to snore quietly as he falls asleep.
We walk forward towards this lean-to and inspect the insecure foundations that it appears to be set on. Basically it looks like a large piece of ply board that has had several pieces of corrugated iron nailed down onto it to make up the walls and yet more iron on top of these to create a make shift roof.
Looking at the host who is still dreaming of sheep, country matter or maybe making someone “SQUEEL LIKE A PIGGY”, We decide it may be ok to sneak into the attraction with paying and so we quietly step onto the ply board sheet and proceed into the squalid environment that makes up the House Of Mirrors.
Suddenly all changes and the past surroundings of flashing lights and cheerful laughter are all left behind. Instead of these there is a new sense of misery and depression as only darkness engulf us.
We continue walking forward and appear to pass an internal wall, as a light passes illumination into the small, dank and dirty environment past a further wall.
Suddenly we catch sight of something in a mirror. A figure standing short, plump and podgy. We take a look into the image to see who it is but quickly realise that this is ourselves, only distorted in the mirrors. We shake off our clear horror at the sight and continue into the building confident that this amusement will not break our spirit.
We continue on and pass the wall that hides the only visible light source and see a figure standing tall in the middle of relatively long corridor inside the structure. We soon realise that this is not our reflection in a mirror and look on as the figure looks intensely into another mirror on the left side of the corridor.
The figure then turns into the light and towards us so that we can see his face. It is now clear that the figure is Non Compos Mentis. He is wearing torn and ripped clothing consisting on a black t-shirt, blackened denim jacket and black trousers. His hair hands down beside his face as if he is using it to hide himself from us.
He then turns to his left and looks into another mirror as it distorts his image further.]
Non Compos Mentis: These mirrors seek to distort people into things that the aren’t…
They seek to make people frightened at the sight of themselves…
They seek to show people in a different light to what they believe themselves to be…
These mirrors are like the wrestling industry…
For months… I have been dragged through the thrill and pit falls of wrestling by fans and promoters that made me think that I was something I wasn’t…
They made me think that I was doing this for the fans…
They made me think I wanted to please the stupid rednecks that turn up every week and pay their wages to watch people bash their brains out instead of using that money to but food or clothes…
They made me think I was doing this for the good of the people…
[Mentis reaches out with his right arm and touches the mirror as if he was caressing something or someone.]
Non Compos Mentis: My friend…
You brought me this far…
You brought me some success as North American champion…
You even got me into the World Title picture once…
But…
My friend… you are weak… and you cannot take me further…
You will only prove to weaken me from now on…
[Mentis stands back from the mirror and pulls his arm away from his reflection as if it has disgusted him.
He then reaches behind his back and down to his belt. From here he pulls something from it and brings it out in front of him. It is a hammer.]
Non Compos Mentis: To progress… sacrifices must be made…
I am sorry my friend…
[Mentis then brutally lifts the hammer above his head and smashes it down at the mirror that shatters into several hundred pieces onto the floor.
We can hear the disorientated grunts of the owner who has clearly woken at the sound of smashing glass. We turn to see a search light flashing in our direction and step back into the darkness where we cannot be seen. The man, in his haste rushed straight past and reaches Mentis’s location. Here he begins to shout incessantly.]
Owner: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY… WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR… I DEMAND A REASON FOR THIS… GIMME THAT HAMMER NOW BOY…
[The berated carnie lunges at Mentis to attempt to gain control of the hammer but instead gets a stiff shot to the ribs with it. At the point he crumples to the floor on his knees and receives a knee shot to the forehead before falling, out cold, onto the glass covered floor.
Mentis merely stands above the unconscious body and stares down at him.]
Non Compos Mentis: From now on my life will not be dictated to me be the fans…
My life will not be dictated to me by the management of PCW…
My life will not be dictated by anybody…
For so long the fans and management have held me back…
They made me act like I wanted to please them instead of win titles…
Because of them I hired Benjamin Banks to fight my corner…
Because of them I hired a stupid fan “favourite” that decided to stab me in the back instead of defend me…
Because of them I lost my title…
Benjamin Banks… “UNBREAKABLE”…
[Mentis turns to his right and stares into another mirror. He seems to be staring at it with contempt and fury as if Benjamin Banks himself is standing in the mirror.]
Non Compos Mentis: You…
You claim to Unbreakable…
You claim that nobody can break you…
And yet you have “retired” from this industry twice…
Why…
You expect people to think you retired because you wanted to…
No… you retired because you were forced to… because you were BROKEN…
Mentally… Physically… Broken…
Broken thing can be repaired…
But then they remain weaker than they were before…
As has happened with you…
PCW Management thought it acceptable to just hand you the title when you returned…
When I got you reinstated on the roster…
Yeah… you’re damn right I reinstated you after what you did…
I reinstated you because wanted revenge…
I still do want revenge…
And this week… on Hostile Takeover… I will take my revenge…
I will take what is rightfully mine…
And I will break the unbreakable…
Benjamin Banks…
I will break you…
[Mentis suddenly lifts the hammer once more and smashes it down onto the mirror proceeding to shatter what, in his eyes, was the image or even consciousness of Benjamin Banks.]
Non Compos Mentis: For I am Non Compos Mentis…
And the Dark Age will begin soon…
[Mentis walks through the shattered glass as it crunches under his feet. He walks past us and out into the twilight of the night as the scene fades to black.]
From this darkness we appear to move up slightly and realise that the blackness was in fact only very dark green in the twilight conditions we find ourselves standing in. The green colour is found from the grass we are standing on whilst flashing colours from several of the carnival rides distort our vision slightly.
We take a look around and see the various attractions that are scatters around this old fashioned travelling carnival. Firstly, only several feet away to our right is the traditional freak show consisting of a bearded lady that look suspiciously like a man only with long hair, the fat man, the twin set of midgets and the human werewolf.
Beyond that is the fortunetellers. An old woman stands outside smoking what appears to be Marijuana but she tells the customers that it is only tobacco and will in no way influence her ‘Powers’.
To our left is the traditional games area with hoop throwing events, water guns, and other amusements that the hosts say are certainly not fixed but secretly the customer knows that they all are and only pays for the privilege of playing because they want that fluffy toy bunny for their kid or that the hosts look like they need the money more.
In the distance to our left is the giant Ferris wheel that is constantly rotating until the old crone at the controls decides they have had “Enough gaddamn fun” for one night and shut it off whilst one pair gets off and then he rotates it again and again and again as the rest find their way of.
Across from us is the oldest, most rickety building that there is in the carnival. The apparent mud covered walls provide very little cover for the inside of the building. There appears to be a sign placed above the gab between the jagged, corrugated iron walls that marks the entrance and exit to the hellhole. The cardboard sign says in red paint “House of mirrors”.
A man emerges from inside the building with a searchlight and takes a seat in a splintered wreck of a deck chair that looks like it has been scavenged from an sunken ship. He lays his head back against the muck-covered wall and shuts his eyes and begins to snore quietly as he falls asleep.
We walk forward towards this lean-to and inspect the insecure foundations that it appears to be set on. Basically it looks like a large piece of ply board that has had several pieces of corrugated iron nailed down onto it to make up the walls and yet more iron on top of these to create a make shift roof.
Looking at the host who is still dreaming of sheep, country matter or maybe making someone “SQUEEL LIKE A PIGGY”, We decide it may be ok to sneak into the attraction with paying and so we quietly step onto the ply board sheet and proceed into the squalid environment that makes up the House Of Mirrors.
Suddenly all changes and the past surroundings of flashing lights and cheerful laughter are all left behind. Instead of these there is a new sense of misery and depression as only darkness engulf us.
We continue walking forward and appear to pass an internal wall, as a light passes illumination into the small, dank and dirty environment past a further wall.
Suddenly we catch sight of something in a mirror. A figure standing short, plump and podgy. We take a look into the image to see who it is but quickly realise that this is ourselves, only distorted in the mirrors. We shake off our clear horror at the sight and continue into the building confident that this amusement will not break our spirit.
We continue on and pass the wall that hides the only visible light source and see a figure standing tall in the middle of relatively long corridor inside the structure. We soon realise that this is not our reflection in a mirror and look on as the figure looks intensely into another mirror on the left side of the corridor.
The figure then turns into the light and towards us so that we can see his face. It is now clear that the figure is Non Compos Mentis. He is wearing torn and ripped clothing consisting on a black t-shirt, blackened denim jacket and black trousers. His hair hands down beside his face as if he is using it to hide himself from us.
He then turns to his left and looks into another mirror as it distorts his image further.]
Non Compos Mentis: These mirrors seek to distort people into things that the aren’t…
They seek to make people frightened at the sight of themselves…
They seek to show people in a different light to what they believe themselves to be…
These mirrors are like the wrestling industry…
For months… I have been dragged through the thrill and pit falls of wrestling by fans and promoters that made me think that I was something I wasn’t…
They made me think that I was doing this for the fans…
They made me think I wanted to please the stupid rednecks that turn up every week and pay their wages to watch people bash their brains out instead of using that money to but food or clothes…
They made me think I was doing this for the good of the people…
[Mentis reaches out with his right arm and touches the mirror as if he was caressing something or someone.]
Non Compos Mentis: My friend…
You brought me this far…
You brought me some success as North American champion…
You even got me into the World Title picture once…
But…
My friend… you are weak… and you cannot take me further…
You will only prove to weaken me from now on…
[Mentis stands back from the mirror and pulls his arm away from his reflection as if it has disgusted him.
He then reaches behind his back and down to his belt. From here he pulls something from it and brings it out in front of him. It is a hammer.]
Non Compos Mentis: To progress… sacrifices must be made…
I am sorry my friend…
[Mentis then brutally lifts the hammer above his head and smashes it down at the mirror that shatters into several hundred pieces onto the floor.
We can hear the disorientated grunts of the owner who has clearly woken at the sound of smashing glass. We turn to see a search light flashing in our direction and step back into the darkness where we cannot be seen. The man, in his haste rushed straight past and reaches Mentis’s location. Here he begins to shout incessantly.]
Owner: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY… WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR… I DEMAND A REASON FOR THIS… GIMME THAT HAMMER NOW BOY…
[The berated carnie lunges at Mentis to attempt to gain control of the hammer but instead gets a stiff shot to the ribs with it. At the point he crumples to the floor on his knees and receives a knee shot to the forehead before falling, out cold, onto the glass covered floor.
Mentis merely stands above the unconscious body and stares down at him.]
Non Compos Mentis: From now on my life will not be dictated to me be the fans…
My life will not be dictated to me by the management of PCW…
My life will not be dictated by anybody…
For so long the fans and management have held me back…
They made me act like I wanted to please them instead of win titles…
Because of them I hired Benjamin Banks to fight my corner…
Because of them I hired a stupid fan “favourite” that decided to stab me in the back instead of defend me…
Because of them I lost my title…
Benjamin Banks… “UNBREAKABLE”…
[Mentis turns to his right and stares into another mirror. He seems to be staring at it with contempt and fury as if Benjamin Banks himself is standing in the mirror.]
Non Compos Mentis: You…
You claim to Unbreakable…
You claim that nobody can break you…
And yet you have “retired” from this industry twice…
Why…
You expect people to think you retired because you wanted to…
No… you retired because you were forced to… because you were BROKEN…
Mentally… Physically… Broken…
Broken thing can be repaired…
But then they remain weaker than they were before…
As has happened with you…
PCW Management thought it acceptable to just hand you the title when you returned…
When I got you reinstated on the roster…
Yeah… you’re damn right I reinstated you after what you did…
I reinstated you because wanted revenge…
I still do want revenge…
And this week… on Hostile Takeover… I will take my revenge…
I will take what is rightfully mine…
And I will break the unbreakable…
Benjamin Banks…
I will break you…
[Mentis suddenly lifts the hammer once more and smashes it down onto the mirror proceeding to shatter what, in his eyes, was the image or even consciousness of Benjamin Banks.]
Non Compos Mentis: For I am Non Compos Mentis…
And the Dark Age will begin soon…
[Mentis walks through the shattered glass as it crunches under his feet. He walks past us and out into the twilight of the night as the scene fades to black.]
