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Thread: ou[R]-FED Phoenix Cup FINALS - Mr. H vs. Kris "FaSho" Destiny

  1. #1
    gay the pray away mth's Avatar
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    ou[R]-FED Phoenix Cup FINALS - Mr. H vs. Kris "FaSho" Destiny

    ou[R] Fed presents...

    **The Phoenix Cup Tournament**

    FINALS: STIPULATION TBD

    MR. H versus KRIS "FA SHO" DESTINY


    aka @mth vs. @kdestiny

    3 alternating promos from each competitor. Remember the criteria you will be judged on:
    -Selling characters/story
    -Selling the match
    -Entertainment Value
    -Grammar/Cohesion

    First come, first serve to start the promos.

  2. #2
    Temet Nosce Caito's Avatar
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    As the scene comes into focus, a well worn wrestling ring dominates the background. It is poorly lit, which only enhances the shadows and mystery, its appearance given an artificially grainy look. It is in sharp contrast to the foreground, where before the squared circle, a magnificent trophy stands. Nearly 5 feet in weight and well lit from a spotlight above, its ornate and meticulous design, along with its tremendous shine, provides a stark separation between the symbol of glory and honor, before the rugged path that one must travel.


    Offscreen, the sound of footsteps approaching, announce the presence of another. From the left of our scene, the source is revealed, as a man in dark clean jeans, smart shoes, and a well tailored black button down approaches the trophy, admiring the craftsmanship, evening so far as to lightly graze the prize, showing equal parts respect and restraint. A small, somewhat wondering smile comes across the face of Jonathan Caito.


    Everyone dreams. It is an undeniable fact. Oftentimes, it is a method of distraction. Something to get you thru your day, or until the weekend when one can finally let loose. There are people so busy dreaming, they dream their life away.


    Caito has not taken his gaze off of the Phoenix Cup as of yet. Finally, he hovers his hand just above, taking a deep breathe. His hand nearly reaches forward again, but restraint takes over, as Jonathan closes it into a loose fist, calmly nodding his arm before bringing it to his side.


    And sometimes, a dream is what you need to spark an idea. And if you are very lucky, and you have help along the way, that idea can take hold and give you a chance for something…


    Finally, Jonathan turns toward the camera, his eyes full with a look we haven’t seen from Caito in a long time in the feds…..


    Greater….


    Caito shifts his body, turning himself to fully face the camera, his full attention now on what brings us here today.


    8 men gave us life, gave us a chance to remember why our R-Feds were so dear to us. They have fought, they have bleed. All for honor. All to be able to be presented this Caito briefly turns and gestures as an acknowledgment of not only the skill and the talent that one needs to win in our industry, but of the lengths that one must go to not only be the one to take home the winner’s purse… but what we must do to simply survive.


    What we have now, out of eight, is two men. They are the last men standing, each one climbing the ladder to put themselves in this final arena. Modern day gladiators, circling each other for the final challenge.


    And with that, a final encounter needs something…. just a little bit more.


    If possible, Caito straightens up even more, as if to give an extra amount of attention and meaning to his message.


    It has been entrusted to me, and with a great sense of honor, I am here to tell you just how we will crown our champion.


    In federations past, their top titles were defended by way of a two out of three falls stipulation. This guaranteed that the best man won, that their victory was earned thru blood and sweat, and was no fluke. We may not have a championship belt at stake, but the two men who meet in the finals, either one could, and in moth’s case, have held a World Championship before. So, on one hand, why should this match be any different?


    However, on that other hand we see here… is that enough? Is it enough to test the will, the drive, the constitution of a man who has been forged by the fire that is this industry? I disagree, and those that ultimately make the decisions, agree.


    Because at the end of the day, when the smoke clears, and a single person’s hand is raised in the middle of this ring, we need to know that on this day, he was the best. He needs to be tested physically, spiritually, and mentally. For in this modern day gladiatorial bout, we have two men who fight for glory, as if they fight for the honor of being welcomed into Valhalla as a conquering hero, a warrior whose endeavors are legend. To be one worthy of such an honor, worthy of the Phoenix Cup, they will have to survive more than a standard two out of three falls match….


    They must endure the Labours.


    Jonathan pauses, turning to his left once again to gaze upon the sheen of the Cup. He allows his last words to sink in for a moment, before he returns to the camera


    Your first fall will be inside a cage. The two of you will be surrounded by metal, and there will be no escape. You must face your charge head on. But there is a small twist…. There is no escape of the cage. Because an honorable man, a worthy warrior, does not turn and run from adversity. He charges head-on into the fire, his mindset knowing only that retreat is impermissible. With that said, if either man escapes the cage, either thru the door or over the top and to the floor, they sacrifice a fall and will have to make it up in the next Labour.


    It is there that both men will finally be allowed to branch out, their battle taking them wherever it needs to. Your fall can and will count anywhere, using whatever means necessary.


    If it comes to pass that neither man gains an advantage after two falls, then the third and final fall will test the purity of your will, your soul, and most importantly, your skills and talent. A proper match, taking place in the one place that we hold the most sacred, the squared circle. It will truly be one fall to a finish. One fall to immortality.


    Mr. H. Kris Destiny. These are your stakes. The Labours are your path. And this…
    Without turning, Caito gestures to the magnificent trophy,his eyes still staring directly thru the camera… is your Valhalla.


    What are you willing to do?



    After a moment, Caito turns and walks away from camera view, allowing it to zoom and focus on the ultimate prize of the Phoenix Cup.

  3. #3
    gay the pray away mth's Avatar
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    We fade into daylight. An empty swimming pool. No water. No people. No party. A single lawn chair is set up in the deeper end and in it, clad in no more than a black Speedo and a spiked choker, his head, neck, and shoulders enveloped in his trademark paint, sits Mr. H. Despite squinting from the afternoon sun, there it still a unfocused, almost glazed look in his eyes.

    “I'm usually a one take guy, Kris. Flip the switch and away I go, bang, magic, send it in.
    Not this time.
    Kris, I had a solid five minutes in the bag and now...well, now it's in a garbage bag.
    See, Kris...
    ...well, first of all, I don't think we're been formally introduced: my name is Mr. H. Pleasure.
    Surprised we've never crossed paths before.
    Congrats on reaching the finals, I've obviously been watching and I like what I see.
    I dig it and I see we might tick a few of the same boxes: car crash, theatrical side, little bit off kilter, hella good at the 'rasslin'...
    ...nice, nice.
    Now, now, ok, so right, why did I pitch my first jab at this?
    Kris, it's like this: in my brain right now, man, it's like there's fifteen TVs on, all a different channel, volume at max.
    So I kind of vomited all that into a promo and....
    ...and I guess, truth be told, here I am again....fixin' to do the same damn thing, heh.

    Kris...
    ...Kris, you've heard of this thing called the internet, yeah?
    Useful tool, changed the world, yeah, but also a goddamn tapestry of pure horse shit, too.
    You read about the Phoenix Cup on there, hm? Read what the kids are saying about your boy?
    Yeahyeahyeahyeah, so, they think they've peeked behind the curtain, they think they know why I am where I am, why I'm more of a Backbone than just a cute nickname, that, well, that, heh...
    ...that good ol' Mr. H was feeling useless and irrelevant so he peeled his ass off the couch, slogged on down to the wrestling graveyard, dug up the casket of the R-feds, cracked that bastard open, bear-hugged the dried-up husk inside, dragged it back to his lab, made some phone calls, emptied his wallet, brought in some of the best and some of the brightest, slapped together a tourny for a big shiny thing, and shot the poor corpse full of Frankenstein-juice just so he could feed his ego, pat himself on the back, 'self-suck' if you will...
    ...that...
    that's...
    ….that's, heh...

    …ridiculous.


    Plausible...?

    I mean, you gotta consider it, eh, Kris?
    Gotta consider if it might be true?
    Gotta consider what that says about me, what that makes me...
    ...and then, I suppose, what that makes you.

    I don't know where I end and the R-feds begin...
    ...it's in my bones, it's my life, all I know, it's my Broadway, baby...
    ...so every time she's died and every time she's revived...
    ...I am, too...
    ...so every time over the years they've pried that coffin open and tried to give it another go, strung her up, made her dance, Weekend at Bernie's-style...
    ...that's me, that's me crawling out of my hole, readjusting to the light, the air, stretching my stiffened frame, getting the blood moving, living, LIVING, for a fleeting few moments...
    ...only for the familiar cold, black, twisted tendrils to pull me back down as she's laid back down to rest.
    Again and again. Living and dying. The R-feds. Mr. H.
    And through it all, Kris, I kept saying, “We're in denial, boys, we're delusional, we're kidding ourselves, we know how this goes...” and yet, there I am, leading the goddamn charge. Being the goddamn Backbone.
    Every.
    Fucking.
    Time.
    And now, heh, here and now...
    ...the Phoenix Cup Tournament.
    And I came in and I said, “Hey, boys, let's not be down and dark, let's whoop it up, let's have a blast, let's have a time, let's live it up...”
    ...and I told Jitterman that if I made it past him, I'd throw a rager pool party and...
    ...welp, here I am...Mr. H: party of one.
    Heh. You can get thirty damn people to play a mafia game but getting even eight guys to sign on the line for this was like pulling teeth.
    “Phoenix Cup”, hm?
    Is this a mighty flaming bird of myth rising majestically from the ashes?
    Or did someone just light a pigeon corpse on fire?

    Say they're right, Kris, say they're right, that I poured it all out, everything I had, into this one last go...
    ...knowing how it's gone time and time again...
    ...knowing that there's only so many times that corpse can be revived before it's nothing but dust.
    Knowing that it's only fleeting moments of fresh air and sunshine before it's back into the void.
    Knowing that sure, there's one bright, shiny, celebration at the end of this and then, back to nothing. Back to zero. Back to black.
    For the R-feds and for me.
    What does that make me, Kris?
    A fool?
    A madman?
    Desperate?
    Delusional?
    Dangerous...?
    Because how many times can I do this, how many times can this happen to me, before it's that one time too many? Before there's a breaking point? Before it's got to be the last time? Before something gives out? Before I turn to dust?

    I guess I've got nothing left to lose and you know what they say about guys like that.
    But what do I have to win?
    A trophy. A moment. A mountain top. Brief though it may be, there will be an instant were a bell rings, a hand is raised, and that Cup is handed over, and everyone in that arena, winner, loser, every fan in attendance, we'll all be there on that mountain top together, and that, that's when it fucking means something.
    Everything outside of those arena walls, all the stresses, the struggles, the chaos, the grind, will be on hold, paused for a moment.
    The journey has reached its destination.
    We've made it, we've escaped, we're in that sweet, sweet sunshine.
    I live for that, Kris.
    All of us that lace 'em up, we all do.
    So I know you're coming into this ready to make that your moment.
    And I have to admit, if I'm the one on my back, looking up at the lights, I'll still smile because at least I'm under them.
    And as the pyro bursts and the confetti rains down and you raise that Cup high...
    ...I'll thank you.
    For giving me life for one more night.”


    He takes a long slow breath.

    “Lot on my mind, Kris. Been through two wars already. Two very different fights.
    My body's aching. My bones are tired.
    But my mind's on fire.
    That's my Frankenstein-juice.
    Gotta go out in a blaze of glory.
    Gotta flame out like a supernova.
    If it's just darkness on the other side, gotta make the moment blinding, gotta burn it all to the ground.
    Gonna reduce it all to cinders, Kris.
    'Cuz I don't know if it's worth it.
    And I don't know if I can do this again.
    And I don't know if we'll ever come back.
    Tyson talks about pooling together some money with the boys...and I...
    ...I might be the most obstinate, driven, passionate, misguided, determined, pig-headed idiot in that locker room...
    ...and even I've gotta chuckle and shake my head.
    You poor sweet beautiful fool.
    Him and me.
    All of us, every time.
    Somebody's gotta put her down.
    Somebody's gotta give her peace.
    ….somebody's gotta do that...
    ...to her...
    ...to me.
    Me.
    Me, Kris.
    Roasty toasty.
    I'm the asshole that took the Bic to the stanky dead bird.
    And I'm gonna grab hold, burn my skin off, and raise it high.
    ou[R]-FED.
    Phoenix Cup.
    Let's fucking go.”


    He hasn't moved yet and doesn't move now. Just sits and stares. Several seconds pass. The camera pans over and up towards the sun until its light washes out the screen into white.

  4. #4
    Once upon a time... kdestiny's Avatar
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    usa

    Rise and shine, don't waste time

    I...can... feel it...

    We hear vocals sung.

    I... can... feel it...

    I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord...
    I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh lord...

    Oh lord...

    We fade in on a big room that is completely white. White couch, white walls, white carpet, a white divider, and a white coffee table.

    We see Kris "Fa Sho" Destiny enter from his left, our right in a black suit with a white button up t-shirt and a red tie. He moves to the couch and takes a seat right in the middle.

    This is what we have worked towards... I feel it in my bones, in my veins... my blood.

    The difference between you and I, Mr. H... well... there seem to be more than you think. You are looking at the surface and not peeling back the many layers that I am. That's where you can make a mistake.

    I am always a one take man, and here's why... I have had to be one my entire life. My first time around I did things that most wrestlers wouldn't even think about attempting. I was thrown off of high things and hit harder surfaces than most humans should.

    Now... I know what needs to be done in one go. I have picked apart my opposition up to this point to show why I have been the cornerstone everywhere I went. I came to a place where no one knew me... and here I am.

    You keep talking about where your work begins and where you are being a bit mixed up. You aren't sure where the wrestling starts and where you stop.

    I am sure of myself, Mr. H. I have been sure of myself ever since I made my way back to the ring.

    Destiny stands up from the couch. He stokes his chin very gently and then steps over the coffee table and moves closer to the camera as we zoom out.

    I have been carving my way in this world for so much of my life. Then I lost it all...

    I was empty.

    Your perspective changes when you lose everything you are. You just become a blank slate.

    Mr. H, you look around here. I see where I have a bit of a connection with some in books, film, and now in musical theatre.

    Patrick Bateman.

    My suit today is an eighties drape from Alan Flusser with a bladed back to accommodate my impressive physique.

    Destiny does a quick spin as if to model it.

    You want to have a blast and enjoy your time. You are appreciative of making it to this spot.

    You are trying to make yourself look like someone who has nothing to lose at this point. That is where you haven't thought things through.

    You want to make it seem like you have nothing left to lose... That's great for you.

    I have already lost everything. I know that feeling. I know what it feels like to be LITERALLY NOTHING!

    Destiny sits down and slams his fist onto the coffee table. He buries his head into his hands and messes up his hair. He rips the tie off and then he flings the jacket off and throws it toward the camera and quickly jumps back to his feet as we now know that Fa Sho has appeared.

    You look at me, Mr. H!

    I am a man who has been nothing. I will do everything I can to prevent myself from being there ever again. That's why I need this, this is why we need this.

    We connect with Patrick Bateman for the reason that we are larger than life. We have cheated death and we have cheated being relegated to nothingness. We will do whatever we need to do in order to get as far away from that as we possibly can.

    I spent several years myself in purgatory. I was never coming back.

    Kris needs me, and now I need him. We are the best parts of each other.

    Mr. H... You can play whatever game you want to. I will be happy to give you a nice little trophy as a consolation prize while you wallow away to nothing. We can't do that.

    Through this entire fucking tournament we have only become stronger as one. We have the side that isn't afraid to put on a smile and dazzle you with what we can do.

    I am the part that is ready to pull you apart... limb by limb, part by part, piece by piece...

    We are not the same.

    Look at history, open the books.... there are statues with great looks. There are Gods and there are Kings... I'm pretty sure I am the same thing.

    I am not a common man. We are not a common man. We have no interest in what is right or wrong, we are interested in making the best move for us. I will do what it takes to get to the finish of this tournament as the champion and he will make sure that we look as damn good as we possibly can during it.

    You can't handle this because you weren't cut out for it. The fact that you are questioning it makes me sick. If I had that thought about my passion I would want to be put out of my misery... SO LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN!!!!

    He pulls his white shirt off in a violent manner and moves just behind the couch. He picks up a huge chainsaw.

    He starts it and starts moving around the couch with a dark look in his eyes. He cuts the white coffee table right in half and continues to run it while laughing in a very maniacal manner. He sits back down on the couch. He looks as if he might've just had an out of body experience. He sets the chainsaw to his right of the couch.

    hahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHaha.....haaaaaaaaaaaa

    We can make sure you go out in a fucking blaze of glory. We can give you a send off... maybe not the one you are looking for... You are going to get one exactly as the other two pricks... You don't get anything special. The spoils go to the victor, and we will not let you come out of this with the Cup.

    You may have been somebody before, but you will be nobody now... and I can only hope you go deeper into the purgatory that I had to live through.

    Take that test and see how you come out on the other side... With the fight you seem to be willing to show now... I am not certain you will make it out. You'd better hope that you don't... I will be waiting.... to knock you back down...

    You... us... We aren't the same... You are not much more than a common man... But we are needed so much more... Every pleasure is a bore...

    We are something other than a common man, we are not a common man.

    He stands up and he reaches around the other side of the couch and pulls out a machete. He holds it high above his head, but then it is like a light bulb goes off.

    Well... It's not worth wasting the time and energy right here and now.

    We have already made history here. We have become the benchmark that everyone wants to hit. Mr. H has already lost.

    You see, we have shown that we will go to the highest of heights to become this Cup winner. Mr. H, you have already shown weakness. That is a word that is barely in our vocabulary. Not now and never again. You see, I am not a common man... I don't show that weakness. It was lost years ago.

    When it comes to our facing off, just know that there will be no reason, no remorse... Just the need to stay the course. I will help you understand that I am nothing like a common man.

    There is nothing I won't do... is the same thing true of you?

    That is a question you will need to ponder. As I see you now... I don't think you have what it takes...

    Mr. H...

    "It's Hip to be Square" starts playing and gallons upon gallons of what seems to be blood pours from the ceiling onto Destiny as he hangs onto the machete... he opens his arms wide and looks up and starts to laugh. He stabs the machete into the middle of the couch and he moves in front of the broken down coffee table and starts to make blood angels in the puddle of blood on the ground.

    Rise and shine, don't waste time. Head to the terminals head to the mine.
    Flash a smile, bear your teeth. They'll never guess what's underneath.

    Fin'

  5. #5
    gay the pray away mth's Avatar
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    The black screen is interrupted by the static glow of a TV screen flicking on. And then another. And another. And another. Several more until the entire frame is filled with over a dozen radiant TV screens. The static on each begins to switch over to a picture, many of footage from the Phoenix Cup tournament, several of footage long time R-Fed fans might recognize from events of old. The audio of each television also blares at full volume, blending together into a cacophony of sound. But then, one by one, each TV begins to flicker and click off, its image narrowing to a pinhole begin returning to darkness. Soon, only two illuminated screens remain, side by side. The left screen becomes the painted visage of Mr. H in a two-tone skull motif, the right screen is also the bizarre legend's face but this one ablaze with flames of neon color. His lips part into a toothy grin before both screens suddenly go dark.
    The darkness lingers for a moment before beginning to brighten.
    We find ourselves in a somewhat...similar...scene.
    All white.
    The camera pans to reveal a white couch and coffee table.
    Seated in the center of the couch, black and white thigh-high high-heeled boots resting comfortably on the coffee table, clad in a white leather jacket over a slinky black cocktail dress, sits Mr. H, his face paint split down the middle to match what was shown on the TVs moments ago.


    “Mm-mm-mmm, Krisssss....nice. Nicely done. Good stuff.
    I like you. I like what you're doing.
    The blood coming down? Cute. Cute bit. Reminds me of when I did the same thing, but with paint, about a decade ago.
    Now, now before I get rolling, I just need to finish up the set here...
    ...boys?”


    He looks off camera as two strapping young gents in very little clothing wheel in a white wall behind him. That wall is blanketed in gold as several championship belts, plaques, and trophies are displayed upon it.

    “Now, see, Kris, here's the thing my good man...you, you've got a bit of a dual personality, hm? Two sides of a coin, yeah?
    Cool, cool, yeah, I'm a bit bi myself, heh.
    But like, not in a binary sense, more like a spectrum, one end, the other end, and everything in between.
    See, see, the Mr. H that kicked off this thing, well, he's on one end...
    ...and the Mr. H that's sitting before you is on the other.”


    He gestures to the gleaming wall of accomplishments behind him.

    “Some of these are high end replicas, some of these are the genuine article, some of these I never lost.
    All of these I earned.
    See, the Mr. H sitting before you is a legend, and icon, a veteran, a pillar, the Backbone.
    Worked for so many companies I've forgotten most of their names.
    Course, a good memory jostle would be if I took a closer look at all that gold since I won some in just about all of them.
    See, the Mr. H. sitting before you...
    ...he doesn't need to make it rain, doesn't need a chainsaw or a machete.
    Nah, brother, my chainsaw, my machete...they're right here...”


    He gestures again to the wall behind him.

    “And even more so, right here...”

    He taps a finger to his temple.

    “I've gone to war with the best of them. For almost two decades, Kris. And as much as my hands and feet, my body, is my weapon...
    ...the deadliest thing in my arsenal is the old spongy lump floating in my skull, heh.
    Ask Travis McCoy.
    Ask Dick Whelan.
    Ask Tyson Bell or Rip.
    I've slithered my way into some of the toughest minds in this sport, set up shop, and lived in fucking luxury.
    For as much as I've achieved all this by kicking a man's teeth down his throat...
    ...I've really done it by skull-fucking him with my brain powers, hee.
    SFK.
    Skull-Fucking Kick.
    Now you know, heh.
    Even you, even you over there being all Patrick Bateman.
    Great flick, bee tee dubz.
    You know which part I am, hm?
    “Feed me a stray cat.”
    Heh.
    I'm the part where you realize shit's really gone off the rails and you're not entirely sure what is and what isn't.
    When that bell rings, my friend, it's gonna be your “Feed me a stray cat” moment.
    Because you don't know...
    ...don't know who I am or what I can and will do.
    Because I did a second take.
    Because I planted a seed.
    Because you're confidant and I doubt.
    And you don't doubt that I doubt.
    Heh.
    When I was young and dumb I used to say 'believe'...a bright-eyed optimist holding onto things like faith...
    ...but now, I don't want to “believe”, I want to “know”...
    ...but faith is vice and doubt is virtue, Kris.
    You can walk in cock-sure of yourself but certainty, confidence...well, they can be your undoing.
    But doubt?
    Doubt makes you prepare, makes you work, makes you fight harder...
    ...but then again, maybe...
    ...maybe that doubt was just watering the seed, hm?
    Can you feel things taking root in your grey matter, Kris?
    I mean, you're over there buying into everything I said in my opening promo, heh, like I meant every word of that, all sincere and vulnerable and open and genuine...
    ….like I'm not super famous for being a manipulative, slimy, scumbag liar?!
    Reckon there's a little sprout already poppin' up outta your dome, Kris.
    Maybe everything I said was true.
    Maybe everything I said was a lie.
    Maybe a little from Column A and a little from Column B.
    Maybe what you're getting when that bell rings is a beaten and broken man with one last shot at going out on top, everything he loves on the line, desperate and dangerous and ready to die...
    ….AND SLASH OR!
    ...maybe you're getting one of the best to ever do it in this industry, an unorthodox, mold-breaking Hall of Famer who's evolved and grown to become feared and respected as much for his mindgames as he is for his ring-skills.
    And everything in between.
    You're a coin.
    I'm a...motherfucking discoball.”


    He drops his feet off the table to the floor and leans forward on the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

    “It's funny, heh, it's funny you say you know what it's like to lose everything and become nothing...
    ...you mention cheating death...
    ...heh...
    ...mm, wish I could take you back there, Kris, back that to that rainy night, that stretch of highway...
    ...when that drunk slammed into our car and killed her, Kris...
    ...her and not me...
    ….you know that “believe” I mentioned? Her final breath, that word.
    And that's only the start, boyo! For every glittering chunk of gold behind me, there's a gravestone to match.
    Dad. Sarah. Mom. Chuck.
    And of course one can't forget the countless feds where I've plied my craft.
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, Kris, I know what it means to lose everything.
    I've done it.
    Again and again and again and again.
    I told you, this business, me, we're one and the same and I am, I live, I breathe, I bleed, the R-feds.
    Every time they've died, I've died.
    I have become nothing a hundred times over.
    And that void, well, I would call it “purgatory” as you're slinging that word around a bunch...
    ...but nah, purgatory's a generous term.
    Hell fits it better.
    It's like you, you had this one instance and it cracked you in half, yeah?
    But me, me, I've had a hundred moments that shattered me into a million pieces...
    ...like I said, motherfucking discoball, baby.
    And then I go and do my little thing, my one weird trick doctors don't want you to know about, heh...
    ….and I make you think I'm weak.
    Make you think I'm afraid.
    Make you think I'm doubting.
    Make you think I'm ready to be put in the ground for good.
    And you...
    ...you swallow the juicy wriggling worm and the big ol' barbed hook right along with it...
    ...so you don't know if you'll be facing a starving, wounded, animal backed into a corner...
    ...a man terrified that the hell he knows oh so well is just around the corner, ready to wrap its thorny arms around him yet again...
    ...or a highly decorated, peak athlete, with razor-sharp wits and a wealth of experience who put his everything into resurrecting his passion and is ready and eager to show the world once again why he is everything these championships and trophies say he is...
    ...”common man”? HA!
    You're not.
    I'm not.
    We're not.
    I love the theatrics, Kris. Love the suit, the blood, the chainsaw, the whole bit...
    ...very effective.
    Something I would have done....well, heh, basically DID...ten years back...
    ...but me, me, I am just going to sit here and BE, Kris.
    You can be two faced.
    Me?
    I'm a thousand things at once, Kris.
    I am the chainsaw, Kris. I am the machete.
    You're the goddamn coffee table, dig?
    And heh, well, I suppose I might actually do the blood rain bit after all...
    ….just gotta let the first three rows know they're in the splash zone, heehee.
    You don't think I'll do what it takes? Don't think there's anything off the table?
    Hooboy, you don't know me a lick, brother.
    'Cuz that's pretty much my whole damn thing.
    And I'm already doing it.
    It all started with a second take.
    But maybe that was actually the first?
    Hee.
    Feed me a stray cat, Kris.
    Feed me a stray cat.”


    He blows a kiss to the camera and hoists his legs up, reclining comfortably on the couch as the scene begins to fade out and driving drumbeats begin to fade in...




  6. #6
    Once upon a time... kdestiny's Avatar
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    Finishing the Hat

    Finishing the Hat... how you have to finish the hat... How you watch the rest of the World from a window...

    While you finish the hat...

    We hear singing as we fade in as we are set in the same room as before. The table destroyed by the chainsaw. We see the sofa and machete in the background. We pan in front of it to see Kris "Fa Sho" Destiny now in a green turtleneck and grey slacks as he is painting a portrait on an easel. He takes a few colors and mixes them together with pointilism which is a style where the painter paints several dots of one color and mixes dots with another to make something look one color, but a closer look shows it may be red and blue mixed together or yellow and white.

    It's very clear that I have caused you to wake up a little bit. It's good to see that there is a fire burning in you and you haven't just given up completely. Though heaven knows that may be the better outcome for you.

    It's really sweet that you think I care about your accomplishments before this tournament. I can tell that you have hung your hat on those for a long time. All that has happened before for the both of us doesn't matter anymore. It's all about this match, this final...

    More red...

    He starts to find a small palette with some red and starts to add that to his painting. We aren't able to see it yet as we are only able to see the back of the easel.

    Everything looks better with.... a little more red, wouldn't you say?

    "Feed me a stray cat" eh? You may think you are clever spouting these words, but you coming off as unpredictable is not unlike most others I have encountered including in this tournament. What makes you think you are so different to those other old timers? You seem to refer to them a lot. Why are you different?

    Sure, you should be another stepping stone, but in truth... It's going to be a wonderful work of art isn't it?

    The fact that you are even contemplating that you don't deserve to be where you are now is enough for me to know that I am the true champion. Never have I been so sure of my purpose and never have I been so sure of my talent and of myself... This is something that I haven't felt in a bit... but it is... stupendous.

    He puts the palette down. He takes a deep breathe and then moves around the side of the easel. Now he stands in between the camera and the easel.

    You can "like" me all you want. I have been doing this whole deal... me being a few people... wrestling... show business... I have been doing it for a while now and I know a bullshitter when I see one. You, Mr. H... are a different breed of bullshit my friend.

    You can call yourself the chainsaw and the machete... that's very good, and may be the truest thing you've ever said, but the one thing you must've missed was that I was the one who was in control. I was the person who was using the chainsaw and I was the one using that machete. So yes, you are right about that... You will be used by me as a stepping stone back to the top of the World as the holder of the Phoenix Cup.

    The difference between you and me is that I don't get caught up in my crazy shit... I know exactly how to use it and when to use it... You seem like the type to make a mistake and then what? Where do you go from there? Things continue to spiral on down for you.

    You call your journey a hell.

    That's great. I would've loved to have been there because then I would've known what I was up against.

    Hell is a place that, though evil, you seem to have a sense of things.

    Purgatory is literal nothingness. I would much rather know where I stand then to have to deal with all of that nothing ever again.

    Yet another difference between us. I don't need a facade to show that I was lying or maybe I wasn't. Through all of my years in the ring and in show business the one thing I know is that being yourself is the only way to truly make it. I still feel like you are finding yourself. I know exactly who I am now.

    You have these "tricks" that doctors don't know about... that means that you haven't been able to control it yet... I on the other hand know exactly when I should reach into that darkened place.

    There is nothing about me that is a lie. When I act on stage I put myself into that part completely. I sense that it has been years since you've ever been able to commit to anything to that extent. To a point I feel sorry for you...

    You bring up these one liners that I am sure are bullet points in your head somehow, but you aren't sure where they are going.

    Trust me, I have been lost before. Maybe this isn't really the place you were meant to be.

    You may have lost those people in your life... but you don't truly know what it is like to lose yourself entirely... I had a side of myself that was imprisoned. I know that may be something that you won't understand, but it was a scary thing. Once I put those pieces together it was like magic...

    You see, right now I don't need him to come out. He doesn't need to be out right now. He understands that.

    Sho and I are at a mutual understanding. He has his times to shine and I have mine. This is me time.

    I am not sure you have ever gotten to that point of clarity, Mr. H. Not even remotely close.

    You can bring whoever it is you want to bring. You can bring any version of yourself that you supposedly have. All I know is that I am the better wrestler and that will be proven in the ring. It's as simple as that.

    I know this isn't as grand or as theatric as before and I am sure you miss that, but sometimes you just need to hear the words... even when they cannot be the words... not the ones you need at least.

    We decided together to put all we have into this tournament.

    I won't ask any of those others about you... I don't need to. All of the flip flopping and jumping around from you... your head isn't fully in this and it is starting to show.

    I use these theatrics to prove a point. Last time I spoke it was about the fact that I can flip a switch and become Death himself... and then flip it back and become the Spotlight Stealer that you are currently seeing right now.

    I was meant for this moment. We were meant to have this moment, and as the winner of the Phoenix Cup I will represent it with both dignity and violence.

    You can take your disco-ball and shove it right up your ass. You and your several versions of yourself will ultimately be your downfall. You wouldn't have the patience to be able to deal with me. Hell, your wants may change from one moment to the next, I know that feeling.

    I know exactly who I am. I know exactly how to deal with you. You can't escape when the spotlight is brightest and you will have to choose what to do with your however many personalities you supposedly have.

    While you are deciding I will be sure to hit you with everything I have... I will be sure to send you my regards after I am announced as the winner.

    I think it's dry enough now...

    Destiny moves toward the easel and turns it toward us.

    It is a pointilist painting of himself with a crown on and holding the Phoenix Cup while standing over Mr. H who is covered in blood.


    Look I made a hat...

    He points at the crown on his head and smiles a very sadistic smile as we slowly fade to black.

    Fin'


  7. #7
    gay the pray away mth's Avatar
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    A few panning shots establish that we are in the empty arena where the ou[R]-FED Phoenix Cup Finals will be held. The final shot is of the ring at the center of it all and in the center of that ring, three spotlights converge on the Phoenix Cup itself, glittering and gleaming atop a small pillar.
    A figure steps through the ropes: Mr. H, fully clad in his ring gear and facepaint, a steel chair tucked under his arm. He makes a few slow laps around the trophy before setting up the chair beside it and taking a seat.


    “Ah, the ol' 'painting a picture' promo. Classic.
    I did that one about ten years back, too. A few times, probably.
    Sssssooooo, this,”
    he gestures around him, “What I'm doing right now, this wasn't the plan.
    I had other, bigger, fancier ideas: me in a church, flipping back and forth between a white wedding dress and black funeral wear...I was gonna tackle the duality of this final, the fact that this is both me and my beloved coming together, what could have been the start of a beautiful something new, and me preparing to mourn as that beloved was laid to rest, the end of a life.
    Had a few other thoughts with props and locations and so on...
    ...but fuck that.
    Truth is, I cracked open my wallet and a goddamn moth flew out, Kris.
    We don't have the budget.
    Every round we're supposed to be moving up to a bigger better venue and so this final, this top of the the mountain epic battle, the thrilling conclusion...
    ….we planned to sell out Rajah Square Garden...
    ...but fact of the matter is: ticket sales are stalling.
    We overshot, Kris.
    And down the street, there's a new Mafia show every week that's doing just fine.
    But the R-feds...heh. We're trying, aren't we, Kris?
    Eight of us laced 'em up and went to work. Put our bodies on the line.
    And now we're down to two.
    And you'd think things would be at a fever pitch and yet...
    ...and yet here we are, my friend.
    Struggling just to reach the finish line.
    So when the wallet came up empty...I just had to laugh.
    All the theatrics, all the props, all the effects, all the snazzy video editing...
    ...means fucking zero anyway.
    None of that gets between the ropes.
    None of that happens between the bells.
    So, Kris, I'm gonna leave the sizzle at home for this one 'cuz it's just you, me, and the Mountain, and at its peak...
    …this prize awaits.
    In just a matter of days, you and I are going to step into this ring and we are going to go through the Labours.
    Two out of three falls.
    A cage.
    Chaos.
    And should we get there: purity.
    We're going up the mountain together, Kris.
    And you're over there: In control. Confidant. Certain.
    And I'm over here...
    ...I'm over here painting the real picture, Kris.
    I've painted a picture of myself.
    Of where I stand.
    Of why I'm here.
    I've planted the seeds and my garden's growing in your brain box, buddy.
    You're not just sniffing the crumbs I'm putting down, you're lapping them up.
    The real masterpiece being crafted here, Kris, is that you're saying exactly what I want you to be saying.
    I've positioned you, Kris.
    Now now now, don't get me wrong, though, my good man, you got here on your own.
    You were chosen for this tournament because you have a reputation as one of the best...
    ...and you are in the finals because you proved that to be true.
    Your skill, your drive, your effort, your sweat.
    You've earned this spot.
    As have I.
    But where you're standing, where you think you're standing, where you're really standing...
    ...heh.
    I've slithered into your skull...
    ...sunk my claws into your grey matter...
    ...Kris, I've got your tongue in my hand and I'm flappin' it around, heh.
    You see what I want you to see. Hear what I want you to hear. Think what I want you to think.
    And I know this because you are saying what I want you to say.
    You feasted on the delicious sweet cake that is 'Self Portrait of the Artist as a Sweet Cake', heh.
    All fat and full of this mmmm frosted goodness, hee.
    See, see, see, Kris, that's the fun part, heh, the treat, the gift, the BLESSING I've bestowed upon every wrestler that's had the pleasure of doing this dance with me...
    ...I'm a real trip, baby.
    So now you're over there doubting me, thinking me uncertain, unhinged, flipping and flopping, lost, loose, lacking, lying...and I'm loving it.
    I told you this is my Broadway and I would think a Broadway man like yourself would be able to distinguish...hell, I would think a...yin-and-yang-type like yourself would have an even keener eye for it...and yet...
    ...and yet the curtain, the line, the divide between what's what when it comes to good ol' Mr. H...
    ...remains delightfully BLURRED.
    Just the way daddy likes it.
    You won't ask them, won't dial up any of the others, you want to do this yourself and that's groovy...
    ...'cuz you only need to ask yourself:
    Is he crazy? Has he lost the plot?
    Or is it all just one big song and dance he's putting on, hm?
    Think long and hard about it, Kris.
    Think long and hard about what you want to be true.
    And think long and hard about what is actually true.
    Think about whether you're facing a man who stands at the edge of a yawning grave...
    ...a man who very well could be having his LAST MATCH EVER...
    ...a man who is about to have his swan song...
    ...a man who is out of control with nothing left to lose.
    And then, think about a man who's seen it all, done it all, won it all...
    ...by being the best goddamn master of mindgames this industry's ever witnessed...
    ...getting under the skin and into the bones of his opposition...
    ...weaving a tapestry, crafting a narrative, making them, heh...BELIEVE...
    ...that he is whatever he needs to be so that they face him with EXPECTATIONS...
    ...and then, well, then he eats them alive from the inside out.
    It seems, Kris, it seems you think I'm a lot of things...
    ...a lot of...WEAK...things...
    ...a lot of...ADVANTAGEOUS things, for you...
    ...so ask yourself, Kris Destiny, ask yourself, are you SURE?
    Are you FOR SURE?
    100%?
    Are you FA SHO?
    Heeheehehha.
    I'm ready, Kris.
    Ready to go through every stage, every labor.
    Two falls, three falls, however many battles make up the war, Kris.
    Bring Death to the dance, FaSho...
    ...because I don't fear it.
    I know it.
    I make out with it on the weekends.
    I've made you 'believe' but if you want to know, Kris, if you really want to KNOW...
    ...then you're going to have to tear me apart, tear me wide open, split me in half, big boy, and reach inside, yank out the gooey truth that's housed inside these weary bones...
    ...and find out for yourself, expose to the world, show everyone whether or not I am what you think I am, I am what I say I am, or I am anything more or less than one of the goddamn best in this business, the BACKBONE, or if I'm just some painted up jackass who's passed his prime and clinging to a long-dead dream...
    ...I'm ready to go, Kris...
    ...to the top of the mountain, through all the violence, the brutality, the chaos, the pure refining fires...
    ...and I'm ready to die if that's what it takes, Kris...
    ...for THIS.
    THIS CUP.
    THIS BUSINESS.
    MY INDUSTRY.
    MY LIFE.
    MY.
    EVERY.
    THING.
    MY.
    ALL.

    ...it's me, you, and this bright shiny beauty...
    ...it's a cage, it's falls count anywhere, and...and if need be, it's pure, by-the-book wrestling...
    ...it's the end of the road.
    For this tournament.
    Maybe for the R-feds.
    Maybe for me.
    Maybe forever.
    So let's...fucking...do this.”


    His gaze turns from the camera to the cup and we zoom in on his painted visage reflected in the gleaming silver as we fade to black.

  8. #8
    Once upon a time... kdestiny's Avatar
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    I'd like to propose a toast..

    We fade into the scene where we last left it. Destiny is standing in front of the destroyed coffee table and is now in a classy black suit.

    We zoom out to see his has finished the painting, it is a pointilist painting of himself holding the Phoenix Cup with the spotlight hitting him. You can see Mr. H in the background just barely.

    Destiny holds a small cup up and toasts toward the camera.

    We've made it Mr. H. We are now on the edge of this tournament to determine why I am the best and to add to that beautiful trophy collection that I have.

    You see, I have made this final bit a very special occasion. I have managed to find a way to have everyone join the party.

    You will be blessed to see myself, myself, and who knows who else will join the party.

    Phone Rings door chimes... in comes company....


    We fade to a quick black and we come back to see Kris Destiny still standing with his glass held up. We see Fa Sho standing beside him with a glass of his own. He isn't as dressy as that isn't really his thing. He's in an old faded grey button up and jeans We see another figure in the background, but it is hard to make out who it is.

    Yeah, yeah, thanks for the invite to this party. It's been a minute since we have been together in the same space at once.

    I know you wanted to make this grand gesture for Mr. H to show how big of a deal this is, but you know this isn't my thing. You are about having the spotlight and the eyes on you. I just want to beat this dumb pissant to a pulp. Two out of three falls for us is nothing for us.

    I know Sho, I know... but we need to butter this guy up. We have him in a spot where we have the upper hand. The weirdo thinks he is in control here. He thinks what we have done up to this point has been a show.

    Maybe to an extent it has, but it's about storytelling here folks. What we are here to show you is that when we come together we can make magic things happen.

    When Mr. H gets into the ring he doesn't seem to even know if he will have control. He keeps referring to this as possibly the end for him. That mindset is going to kill him quite frankly.


    When Destiny says "magic things happen" he refers to the figure in the background who we still can't really make out as they are behind the sofa pacing back and forth.

    The fuck is that?

    That's why I haven't made an appearance in a while, this fucking painting?

    Sho knocks the easel over which Destiny does not take kindly to.

    It's about the big picture, Sho. We were made for moments like this. We were made for matches like this, you even said.

    It's about sending a message. H may think it was just about a painting but it is much more. We have shown you the sides to us that can come out and take control... but are controlled. Mr. H, you are out of control.

    When you go out of control, you make mistakes.

    Sho and I aren't ones to make a mistake. We've been at this for too long and we have worked too hard to trip up now.

    This isn't going to be our last match because we are going to win the Cup and we are going to take it around the World. It would be a massive shame not to show the bad boy off, don't you think Sho?

    Yeah yeah, I guess you're right.

    Wait... when did you get this chainsaw?

    Sho moves to the broken table and picks up the chainsaw. He moves around the back of the sofa to try to get it running. The other figure still seems to not be paying attention. Destiny drinks the liquid from his cup and take a few steps towards the camera.

    We can be the mad man with a chain saw and still be in control, we can be a creative artist and still be in control, we can be the host of a party and still be in control. We have spent years on honing many things, but that more than anything. When we are at this level, we can't be stopped whether it's on stage, on camera, or in the ring.

    We are what happens when you mix a caged and rabid animal with the greatest thinkers of all time. We don't just fight when our backs are against the wall, we fight in the smartest way possible.

    Looking at you, it seems it won't be too hard to fight smarter than you.

    Many people say that it is dangerous to be up against someone with nothing to lose. I think it is the opposite.

    If you are up against someone with nothing to lose, then they are that much more likely to do something drastic... they are that much more likely to do something to put it all on the line only to ultimately fail in the end.

    That's not us.

    You can scoff at these promos all that you want. The one thing thing that you seem to show time and time again is that this is the end for you. What a better way to end your story than against one of the greats to ever step into... well any profession...

    Why not let this performance be the defining one of your sorry little life and allow things to be the way they are meant to be.

    I don't want you to die in the ring, but let's face it... I am prepared for it to happen. You want to put it all on the line, trust me... I am aware of what you are willing to do. I am willing to act on that advantage you've given me and take it to win the Phoenix Cup.

    Sometimes it isn't about who is better. Sometimes it is about who makes fewer mistakes.

    You are willing to risk your life to try to win this. You are willing to go to the ends of the Earth.

    Meanwhile, I am here to evolve and to improve myself...

    Sho comes back with the chainsaw having tried to get it running several times. He is clearly getting frustrated.

    I don't believe this thing ever functioned. I knew you would never give me a working chainsaw. I think the last time I had one of these it ended very poorly for the others I was with.

    So... have you done it, have you proved your point?

    I am not about the smoke and mirrors bullshit, you know this...

    Get that dumb smirk off of your face... Christ, it makes you look like even more of a dipshit.

    I know this isn't like the olden days when I could just talk about how I am going to maim my opponent in several ways. A cage? That's the perfect playground and the best start for us.

    Why are you opening your arms up?

    You've been acting very weird... What are you doing?

    It's the final step of our evolution... Let it be done...


    Destiny smiles and then start to laugh. He then motions to the figure behind them.

    OH! That's what this is about... If it's going to make us better then...


    Sho is able to start the chainsaw up right away.

    Destiny pulls Sho toward him... and the chainsaw goes right into his torso. We hear laughter... and then...

    White... a blank page or canvas... his favorite... so many possibilities.

    We are in the room and everything has been removed, but now we see the man in the background. He is in some old civil war garb and is pointing a pistol at the camera. He is similar to Destiny before, but he's a bit bulkier. He seems to have put on some muscle. he also has a full beard as well.

    Evolution is necessary. It's about growth with everything around you. It's something you don't seem to understand Mr. H... rather than change with the times it seems you are just willing to let yourself die trying to win this opportunity.

    I would be happy to oblige.

    My willingness to make myself into the best version that I can be in order to win this Cup is what sets us apart...
    Destiny clears his throat and begins to sing.

    Everybody's got the right to be happy... Say enough it's not as tough as it seems.

    Don't be scared you won't prevail. Everybody's free to fail. No one can be put in jail for their dreams.


    Destiny is still holding fast with holding the gun at the camera.

    Look at me... These eyes will be the last you'll see before you suffer the last and most painful defeat you will ever taste, Mr. H. Remember this look. Remember that I am going to be known forever as the man who ended your career.

    Not only that, but remember that this loss will be the highlight of your life. Treasure it... I want you to hold that near and dear to your heart while you enjoy retirement in bumfuck wherever you end up. I truly hope you get that happiness that you want.

    I am ready to push you towards it... You will see the light... and I will be standing in that spotlight as the ultimate champion.

    It'll be over soon... just one... more... bang....


    We fade quickly to black.

    Fin'


  9. #9
    gay the pray away mth's Avatar
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    PROMOS FOR THIS MATCH ARE ARE NOW CLOSED.

    Judges/Bookers @Mazer @TimeSplitter @Psycho666Soldier

    Please read through the promos, judge them based on the established criteria, and determine who you think should win the match. PM @Caito with your judgement/winner and any ideas you have for how the match should play out based on the promos and story being presented.

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