Post by Non Compos Mentis on Nov 5, 2006 15:49:36 GMT -5
War and Peace, written by Tolstoy. A novel that is based on the trials and tribulations through conflict and confrontation. An epic tale of struggling against the odds to keep even the most basic right and luxury. It is a tale that has inspired many people to undertake minor miracles of human though and initiative but also reminds us all that there is a dark side to every human being and that is where the problem begins. If everybody has the potential for war, how do we install true peace.
[Lying ahead of us is the novel in question. The epic piece entitled ‘War and Peace’. This well known and immensely respected piece of writing has truly given the world a new view of both of the title’s subjects. Behind the book is what appears to be a white fabric, perfectly blank and inconspicuous. The brightness of the fabric illuminates our view of the scene and makes everything visible to our eyes.
The view extends outwards so that we can see the bigger picture here. Firstly we see that the white fabric from before is, in fact, a neatly pressed bed sheet that is draped over a lavish, king size boudoir. The book appears as if it is only a speck on the pure white immensity it lies on. Further out we grasp a view of the person that is talking to us. Admittedly the view we get is only the wrinkled, scarred hand that is stretched out onto the bed like some wrenching claw.]
Come Trauma my war with the great HHW will come to an end for good. The war that has lasted for over six months will meet its grizzly, bloody, bruised and yet inevitable end. Lantlas, the final member of the HHW stable that entered into PCW so long ago is finally leaving for good, proving my point exactly that PCW wrestlers will always out live and out last those impostors that have taken out chances. HHW never stood a chance when they met just one person in that ring, me. I took out Geno, Anthony Douglas, Seth Sinn and Al Laiman and in the process I captured the one thing that is valued above everything by all those HHW wannabe’s, the HHW World Title. Now, however, the wisdom of Skylar Marshall has come to pass and I have my one chance to finally rid the world of this HHW menace destroyed by an idealistic wet dream. I stand a chance of losing my one chance a destroying this abomination because Skylar Marshall thinks Lantlas should have one last fling.
[We move out even further so that we can now see the stocky form of Non Compos Mentis sitting at the end of the bed. His thick brown hair drapes over his dishevelled features and his black, depressing attire detracts from the purity of the cloth under his seated position. The look on Mentis’s face is one of slight anger as he talks about the man who’s career will end at Trauma, Lantlas. Soon, however, his expression changes to one of malevolent curiosity and perhaps still the anger that was there before.]
I heard what you recently said Lantlas. I heard that you think I am an uneducated dumbass that didn’t get as far as Blade in school. I heard your comments and I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that you actually believe this trash that speak. It really was a great lift to me that you call me ignorant and yet you don’t even know what you are talking about. At the risk of repeating myself for about the hundredth time I will say this, I have been through a FULL and COMPREHENSIVE University Education. I had my way paid so that I could be much more than this and the only reason I am not is because of some stupid bastards who thought I was insane.
I also heard you say that the World Title was not your most prized possession. Now, I will admit that I got that wrong and that, with deeper thought, I can think of at least two things that are more prized to you than those few pounds of leather and gold. Let me take a wild guess, Your Daughter and Jade. Ah yes, I can practically feel your anger as I speak those words. I can sense the anguish in your mind that I would even think about bringing them into this situation. But I really don’t care what you think. So it is these people that have somehow persuaded you to give up wrestling. They must mean the world to you for you to give up everything you have worked for in wrestling. I understand that it is a great responsibility you somebody to have this kind of task but you know what, I don’t care. As far as I am concerned your Daughter will be growing up without the father she knows now. You see, when War Games finishes I will be the new Number one contender to the World Title and you will be a brain damaged vegetable because of the damage I will cause. Neither Jade nor your Daughter will know the same Lantlas again, not after War Games. Hell your beloved child may end up with both parents changed forever after the match, seeing as Jade decided to get involved.
[Non Compos Mentis stand up from the bed and begins to pace thoughtfully, almost concerned by something. He raises his arm and rubs his chin fervently and worriedly. He turns when he reaches a point only a couple of feet from the wall and paces in the opposite direction. Whilst he keeps one arm up around his chin the other is placed across is chest, supporting the elbow of the thoughtful arm.]
Ah, Jade. Lantlas’s girlfriend that is so in love with the Elf Boy that she is willing to put herself on the line to protect him. She has been the focus of most of my thoughts since Deadly Intentions and our match where I was disqualified to my dismay. Although that is not the major worry that has been occupying my mind since that day. It is actually not even Jade herself. It is me and my actions towards the referee and Jade.
I remember vividly that I used my own fists to beat Tim Jones to the ground, thus causing my own removal from the match and another disappointing loss on my record. I remember his calling for the bell as I bore down on him like a giant carnivore cornering its next meal. Then I remember that I grasped my North American Title that was in his hands and pulled it from him, so much so that the sharp edge of the metal scratched his hands. I raised that belt above my head and turned to see Jade, dazed and defenceless in the middle of the ring, just waiting for the inevitable blunt shot to the head that would send her unconscious.
I saw her face, I saw her expression. I saw her fear for her wellbeing as I threatened to slam the belt down on her cranium. Then something happened. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her that much. I had spent so much time in that match trying to knock her unconscious, trying to beat her into a pulp and yet when it came to her being vulnerable and defenceless I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why it happened. All I know is that I couldn’t drop that metal on her head. Was it Love? No, definitely not. Was it Admiration? No. Could it possibly be some feeling of reasoning in my mind? Hopefully not. If it is the last then I am doomed. Where a life In wrestling means going against all human reasoning and abusing people physically as an occupation, losing the ability to neglect reasoning is fatal. Maybe its none of these things and that I have lost something that has made me as ruthless as I have been before. Who knows? I certainly don’t. The whole thing has been on my mind on week. I haven’t been able to have a moment to myself with these thoughts in my head.
Still, What was I talking about? Ah, yes, War and Peace.
[Mentis walks over to the bed and reaches down to the thick novel that is sitting on the fabric. He picks up the book using very little effort even though it is obviously an abnormally heavy book. He does not open the book to read it’s contents but instead just stares blankly at the front cover.]
Trauma will be a great task to many of the figures that step into the War Games match. For them it will be the most brutal and barbaric structure that they have probably stood in. I know that Prophet and Grimm were part of the Lockdown match at Deadly Intentions, but even that will not match up to the gore that will be generated by this match. The only ones in this match that will have known anything like this will be Me and Ace Anderson. We have participated in a match that was designed to mutilate and maim, to rip flesh and take lives. We have both been in the Hardcore Hell Match.
However, the only difference there is that when I went into my Hardcore Hell Match against Al Laiman I came out victorious. I came out with my head held high and my hand raised in victory and success. When Ace Anderson walking into that demonic structure he left as a retired wreck of a man, decimated not by Al Laiman but by a man that wasn’t even in the match. Silence. I am truly the only person in the War Games match that knows what is to be expected and what will happen. I have walked into a match that requires the same attributes that this one does and I have come out a winner.
Unlike everybody else in that match I have seen what I have to do and I am at Peace with it. I am at peace with the fact that it is in my mental makeup to brutalise and destroy other people for my own good. I am at peace with the fact that I know I can win this match. But the thing I am at peace with the most is that War Games is like a home to me. I spent so long out of my life living in places where survival was a luxury and not a given, I have lived in places where your life was threatened every day. Because of this I am prepared, I am ready, ready for the fight of my life and ready to win that fight.
I am at peace with the most demonic structure that has ever been created for the purpose of wrestling. It feels like when I walk into that ring I will be surrounded by people that are afraid of it’s powers. I will be surrounded by people who are scared of what other people can do with it. I will be surrounded by people who are just afraid. And yet I will be fresh, prepared, ready and impetuous. I will be waiting for my chance to do what I have done before and that is to win.
[Mentis’ expression turns to anger in a flash as he grasps the book and throws it down onto the bed, the sheet underneath it rippling outwards as if it is as smooth as water. Mentis walks over the bed once more and sits on the same corner we found him in. His face a picture of anger and confidence, Mentis rubs his face and turns back to the book, staring intently at it.]
Whilst everybody in that match will be at war, I will be at peace. They shall be fighting for their lives but I will be confidently biding my time until the right moment. I will be victorious when everything ends. My arm will be raised in success once more and I will leave with a definite shot at the World Title and my own HHW title over my shoulder for me to do whatever I feel necessary with it.
Trauma will be the marking point for the death of more than one thing. Oh yes. It will mark the end of an era in PCW but it will also see the death of HHW for good. It will be the resting place for a legend and a failure. Decide which one refers to Lantlas yourself.
So, Bear reverence and respect at Trauma, the final resting place of a legend.
[Lying ahead of us is the novel in question. The epic piece entitled ‘War and Peace’. This well known and immensely respected piece of writing has truly given the world a new view of both of the title’s subjects. Behind the book is what appears to be a white fabric, perfectly blank and inconspicuous. The brightness of the fabric illuminates our view of the scene and makes everything visible to our eyes.
The view extends outwards so that we can see the bigger picture here. Firstly we see that the white fabric from before is, in fact, a neatly pressed bed sheet that is draped over a lavish, king size boudoir. The book appears as if it is only a speck on the pure white immensity it lies on. Further out we grasp a view of the person that is talking to us. Admittedly the view we get is only the wrinkled, scarred hand that is stretched out onto the bed like some wrenching claw.]
Come Trauma my war with the great HHW will come to an end for good. The war that has lasted for over six months will meet its grizzly, bloody, bruised and yet inevitable end. Lantlas, the final member of the HHW stable that entered into PCW so long ago is finally leaving for good, proving my point exactly that PCW wrestlers will always out live and out last those impostors that have taken out chances. HHW never stood a chance when they met just one person in that ring, me. I took out Geno, Anthony Douglas, Seth Sinn and Al Laiman and in the process I captured the one thing that is valued above everything by all those HHW wannabe’s, the HHW World Title. Now, however, the wisdom of Skylar Marshall has come to pass and I have my one chance to finally rid the world of this HHW menace destroyed by an idealistic wet dream. I stand a chance of losing my one chance a destroying this abomination because Skylar Marshall thinks Lantlas should have one last fling.
[We move out even further so that we can now see the stocky form of Non Compos Mentis sitting at the end of the bed. His thick brown hair drapes over his dishevelled features and his black, depressing attire detracts from the purity of the cloth under his seated position. The look on Mentis’s face is one of slight anger as he talks about the man who’s career will end at Trauma, Lantlas. Soon, however, his expression changes to one of malevolent curiosity and perhaps still the anger that was there before.]
I heard what you recently said Lantlas. I heard that you think I am an uneducated dumbass that didn’t get as far as Blade in school. I heard your comments and I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that you actually believe this trash that speak. It really was a great lift to me that you call me ignorant and yet you don’t even know what you are talking about. At the risk of repeating myself for about the hundredth time I will say this, I have been through a FULL and COMPREHENSIVE University Education. I had my way paid so that I could be much more than this and the only reason I am not is because of some stupid bastards who thought I was insane.
I also heard you say that the World Title was not your most prized possession. Now, I will admit that I got that wrong and that, with deeper thought, I can think of at least two things that are more prized to you than those few pounds of leather and gold. Let me take a wild guess, Your Daughter and Jade. Ah yes, I can practically feel your anger as I speak those words. I can sense the anguish in your mind that I would even think about bringing them into this situation. But I really don’t care what you think. So it is these people that have somehow persuaded you to give up wrestling. They must mean the world to you for you to give up everything you have worked for in wrestling. I understand that it is a great responsibility you somebody to have this kind of task but you know what, I don’t care. As far as I am concerned your Daughter will be growing up without the father she knows now. You see, when War Games finishes I will be the new Number one contender to the World Title and you will be a brain damaged vegetable because of the damage I will cause. Neither Jade nor your Daughter will know the same Lantlas again, not after War Games. Hell your beloved child may end up with both parents changed forever after the match, seeing as Jade decided to get involved.
[Non Compos Mentis stand up from the bed and begins to pace thoughtfully, almost concerned by something. He raises his arm and rubs his chin fervently and worriedly. He turns when he reaches a point only a couple of feet from the wall and paces in the opposite direction. Whilst he keeps one arm up around his chin the other is placed across is chest, supporting the elbow of the thoughtful arm.]
Ah, Jade. Lantlas’s girlfriend that is so in love with the Elf Boy that she is willing to put herself on the line to protect him. She has been the focus of most of my thoughts since Deadly Intentions and our match where I was disqualified to my dismay. Although that is not the major worry that has been occupying my mind since that day. It is actually not even Jade herself. It is me and my actions towards the referee and Jade.
I remember vividly that I used my own fists to beat Tim Jones to the ground, thus causing my own removal from the match and another disappointing loss on my record. I remember his calling for the bell as I bore down on him like a giant carnivore cornering its next meal. Then I remember that I grasped my North American Title that was in his hands and pulled it from him, so much so that the sharp edge of the metal scratched his hands. I raised that belt above my head and turned to see Jade, dazed and defenceless in the middle of the ring, just waiting for the inevitable blunt shot to the head that would send her unconscious.
I saw her face, I saw her expression. I saw her fear for her wellbeing as I threatened to slam the belt down on her cranium. Then something happened. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her that much. I had spent so much time in that match trying to knock her unconscious, trying to beat her into a pulp and yet when it came to her being vulnerable and defenceless I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why it happened. All I know is that I couldn’t drop that metal on her head. Was it Love? No, definitely not. Was it Admiration? No. Could it possibly be some feeling of reasoning in my mind? Hopefully not. If it is the last then I am doomed. Where a life In wrestling means going against all human reasoning and abusing people physically as an occupation, losing the ability to neglect reasoning is fatal. Maybe its none of these things and that I have lost something that has made me as ruthless as I have been before. Who knows? I certainly don’t. The whole thing has been on my mind on week. I haven’t been able to have a moment to myself with these thoughts in my head.
Still, What was I talking about? Ah, yes, War and Peace.
[Mentis walks over to the bed and reaches down to the thick novel that is sitting on the fabric. He picks up the book using very little effort even though it is obviously an abnormally heavy book. He does not open the book to read it’s contents but instead just stares blankly at the front cover.]
Trauma will be a great task to many of the figures that step into the War Games match. For them it will be the most brutal and barbaric structure that they have probably stood in. I know that Prophet and Grimm were part of the Lockdown match at Deadly Intentions, but even that will not match up to the gore that will be generated by this match. The only ones in this match that will have known anything like this will be Me and Ace Anderson. We have participated in a match that was designed to mutilate and maim, to rip flesh and take lives. We have both been in the Hardcore Hell Match.
However, the only difference there is that when I went into my Hardcore Hell Match against Al Laiman I came out victorious. I came out with my head held high and my hand raised in victory and success. When Ace Anderson walking into that demonic structure he left as a retired wreck of a man, decimated not by Al Laiman but by a man that wasn’t even in the match. Silence. I am truly the only person in the War Games match that knows what is to be expected and what will happen. I have walked into a match that requires the same attributes that this one does and I have come out a winner.
Unlike everybody else in that match I have seen what I have to do and I am at Peace with it. I am at peace with the fact that it is in my mental makeup to brutalise and destroy other people for my own good. I am at peace with the fact that I know I can win this match. But the thing I am at peace with the most is that War Games is like a home to me. I spent so long out of my life living in places where survival was a luxury and not a given, I have lived in places where your life was threatened every day. Because of this I am prepared, I am ready, ready for the fight of my life and ready to win that fight.
I am at peace with the most demonic structure that has ever been created for the purpose of wrestling. It feels like when I walk into that ring I will be surrounded by people that are afraid of it’s powers. I will be surrounded by people who are scared of what other people can do with it. I will be surrounded by people who are just afraid. And yet I will be fresh, prepared, ready and impetuous. I will be waiting for my chance to do what I have done before and that is to win.
[Mentis’ expression turns to anger in a flash as he grasps the book and throws it down onto the bed, the sheet underneath it rippling outwards as if it is as smooth as water. Mentis walks over the bed once more and sits on the same corner we found him in. His face a picture of anger and confidence, Mentis rubs his face and turns back to the book, staring intently at it.]
Whilst everybody in that match will be at war, I will be at peace. They shall be fighting for their lives but I will be confidently biding my time until the right moment. I will be victorious when everything ends. My arm will be raised in success once more and I will leave with a definite shot at the World Title and my own HHW title over my shoulder for me to do whatever I feel necessary with it.
Trauma will be the marking point for the death of more than one thing. Oh yes. It will mark the end of an era in PCW but it will also see the death of HHW for good. It will be the resting place for a legend and a failure. Decide which one refers to Lantlas yourself.
So, Bear reverence and respect at Trauma, the final resting place of a legend.