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 |  Subject: ME) Joe Tresda vs. Anthony Dawkins Wed Oct 09, 2013 5:03 pm | |
|  XWA Championship Tournament - First Round Match Joe Tresda vs. Anthony Dawkins |
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JOKER
TeamJoker
Posts : 1189
Join date : 2013-07-21
Age : 34
| | Subject: Re: ME) Joe Tresda vs. Anthony Dawkins Fri Oct 18, 2013 10:13 pm | |
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On screen
The camera is zoomed in on an individual's mouth. The full beard, or at least the bit of it that we can see gives the gender of the individual away. This man sits in a dark room. The light is so dim that if his mouth were open, we couldn't tell the shade of his teeth. Each breath, causes fog to cover the lens. Just as it starts to clear up, we get another breath. Just when it seems like this man is content with simply breathing in our face, he starts to talk, and his words feel emotionless.
"Have you ever just looked around at your surroundings and found yourself completely and utterly bored? It is sad. I have been all over the world. I have seen things that a lot of people do not get to see. Some people never make it out of the town that they were born in, and I have seen the things that they have only dreamed of. It feels like I have experienced what this world has to offer me, and I now find myself.... bored. It isn't the kind of debilitating boredom that you will hear lazy people talk about. It is more like an urge to find a new challenge. I am longing for something to throw itself into my path and scream at me that I haven't been there, or done that. If I can find that challenge, maybe there will be a reason to take this world seriously again."
The camera starts to pan backwards. First we get the cheeks of this man. Then a nose, and eyes as we continue to move back. By the time that it stops, we see the full face of the individual. His beard is ragged and his hair is unkempt. Somewhere under the filth, is the man that used to mean something to the world. All we see now is a man that could be mistaken for homeless, with the barrel of a handgun placed against him temple.
"If there were something, anything [EVERYTHING] that were to interest me, maybe I wouldn't sit here, night by night, wondering what will flash before my eyes. It isn't a certainty. Perhaps, maybe, I am too far gone. You can only post up and think about something for so long before it overwhelms you. Is it possible that I am beyond saving? Surely, you people will all think that I went out with a bang, but the thing that has my finger off the trigger is wondering whether or not I will even hear the shot. What if, like my career, I went out with a fizzle? Wouldn't that be the biggest joke of them all. Here we have it, a final enigma, can death break the sound barrier? Who will win the race the bullet carving my brain, or the deafening roar shattering my eardrum? It would suck to have the last sound I ever hear be the ringing in my ears. No, that won't due at all. So it has to be the former. I have to be able to convince myself that there will be no sound, in order for me to pull the trigger. I guess that means that we have some time together, after all. One cannot simply make up their mind on such a complex question on a whim. This has to be a thought out process. This has to be rational. I don't want you people thinking that I was a genius that died before my time. I want you to understand that I looked at all the angles, I measured every consequence, and I thought of every possible detail before I walk into the fire at the end of the tunnel."
He pulls the barrel from his temple, and sets it down out of frame. Taking his hand from it appears to be difficult. As he goes to move his arm from it, we can see his eyes yearn to have it back in his possession. They water. Salty tears come at the loss of what was to be salvation. He turns back to the camera, wiping away at his face.
"Look at me, bored to [LITERALLY] tears."
There is a sick kind of desperation in his laugh, though it does sound genuine.
"Why make a video of it? you ask, impatiently. Well I suppose the answer to that is, why not? Why should I deprive you of this moment? It wouldn't be fair to keep this downward spiral all to myself would it. It would be like kicking you off the roller coaster right before we crest the hill and head into the first loop. All you got to see was the ride up, and let's face it, that is never the fun part. Nobody goes to a theme park to be pulled into the sky by gears and chains that make so much noise you can't help but have a migraine. No! We go for the thrill of it all. The fall is what we are really interested in, and who would argue that this doesn't qualify as a fall? Don't you even think to argue with me that this is rock bottom. If I weren't still free falling I wouldn't still be breathing. There must still be loose ends to tie up. The joke that is [BECAME] my life doesn't have a punchline yet. You know you cannot end a joke with no punchline. All you would have then is a setup, and nobody likes being set up."
Some sign of life flashes in his eyes. The first indication that the lights are not only still on, but someone is still home up there. That would be a good sign, except for the fact that the lights are dim, and the somebody is on the verge of checking out.
"What doesn't kill us, simply... makes us more bored."
A laugh. A misdirection.
"After all this time I can still lead you around by the hand and make you think you can finish my sentences. I didn't try to mask my emotions when I put down the instrument of my release from this environment. I am not going to 'live to fight another day' I am going to keep breathing until I have an answer to a question. You can tell yourself a lie so many times that you start to believe it, but these things take time. For now, I remain unconvinced. For now, my brain is not splattered on the wall behind me. Wait. That isn't right. For now, my brain isn't splattered on the window next to me. That would make more sense. Can't change the directions of the brains. Firing from left to right does not splatter things behind. I wonder if I should leave my window open. I could share my knowledge with the unlucky pedestrians walking by."
He leans over, presumably looking to see if he would have drenched anyone had he found an answer to his question by now. When he straightens himself back up in front of the camera, he scratches at his beard, and then looks back to the handgun before shaking his head and realizing he still had no answer.
"No... what separates me from the average Joe Hung-Himself in bathrooms all over suburbia is that I answer all of these questions instead of running from them. When I go, I will be 'of sound mind and body' and nobody will be able to tell me otherwise."
His lips press together, holding back a chuckle at a joke that everyone already got the punchline to.
"My world is... [IRRATIONAL] ...colorful, to say the least. I turned on the camera thinking that I was going to give you all a grand show, and myself a perfect send off, but instead we both get to leave unsatisfied. Though, I don't think any of you will ever see this. Nobody wants to advertise 'the time I almost pulled the trigger' because it doesn't sound like it would bring in the ratings. No, this will likely end up deleted, and erased from everyone's eyes but the ones up here...
He taps his temple where the imprint from the end of the gun barrel is still present.
"...that is, until I can finally put them out."
He reaches forward, but pauses before he clicks off the camera.
".... or maybe... just maybe.... I should get myself a job.
Gwinnett Center?
Duluth, Georgia?
I trust I might see you there."
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
-Clubs trump Hearts-
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
Just Before the Show... Locker Room
Off-Screen
The door to the locker room crashes open. The handle wasn't even turned, instead it was hit forcefully from the outside. Anthony doesn't even jump from his position laying on the bench in front of a row of lockers. The man who opened up an unneeded can of whoop ass on the door steps through, with his mallet now draped over his shoulder.
-JHalc-
"You have my attention."
♣Anthony♣
"I see you got my invitation. I thought you would find it funny."
Jay laughs, but it is empty. There is no amusement in his voice whatsoever when he starts to speak.
-JHalc-
"You do me almost as well as I do. Glad you shaved off that beard before showing up here though."
♣Anthony♣
"Who says I was trying to impersonate you?"
Anthony sits up on the bench and turns to face the man that has invaded his locker room with a smile on his face.
-JHalc-
"Everything literally became irrational? I remember saying those words once."
♣Anthony♣
"And do you remember what you did afterwards?"
Now the smile on Jay's face was one of amusement. His mind works backwards to the night that the two men last met. It was quite a show.
-JHalc-
"Your feelings aren't still hurt over that, are they?"
♣Anthony♣
"You mean the time you and your mallet interfered in my match and cost me six months of my career rehabbing my knee? Nah. I was bitter for a while but I'm over that now."
Jay drops the mallet from his shoulder and places the head of it on the floor before leaning on the handle like it is a walking stick.
-JHalc-
"That whole video promo was a little melodramatic for you. It seemed like something I would have said."
♣Anthony♣
"Like I said... it was an invitation."
-JHalc-
"Is that so?"
♣Anthony♣
"I figured you would want some front row seats when I came into YOUR company and showed you up."
-JHalc-
"You're on the wrong show for that Dawkins."
Anthony stands up and takes a step towards the man that nearly ended his career.
♣Anthony♣
"I couldn't pass up a world title opportunity. Although, now that I am here, you have to worry about when it is going to be that I even the score between us."
-JHalc-
"I can't wait."
♣Anthony♣
"You won't have to."
Anthony takes another step towards him, but the Jack of Hearts doesn't retreat. He stays in place, and the smile on his face grows wider.
♣Anthony♣
"I had never done anything to you. Yet you interfered in one of my matches and nearly crippled me. I wasn't impersonating you in that video. I was in a dark place. I only used it to send you a message. I wanted to let you know that I was back, and that I hadn't forgotten. I have seen the things that you have done here. I see the things that you are currently doing here. It has absolutely nothing to do with me, but rest assured I am going to make sure that you feel my presence... when you least expect it."
-JHalc-
"Trying to intimidate someone like me isn't going to work old timer."
♣Anthony♣
"I'm wouldn't dare try to intimidate you. I am just offering fair warning. Feel free to get the hell out of my locker room. I have said everything that you need to hear."
-JHalc-
"Sounds like you need to be less worried about me, and more worried about your match with that dump truck Joe Tresda."
Anthony walks past him, and pats him on the shoulder as he does, knowing it is just going to full that internal rage that JHalc would never show, but that everyone knows is there.
♣Anthony♣
"Nah. You beat him. It can't be too hard."
-JHalc-
"You're awfully confident for a gimp."
♣Anthony♣
"You're awfully doubtful for a guy that knows first hand how good I am."
-JHalc-
"If you say so. I guess we will just have to watch and make sure you haven't lost a step?"
♣Anthony♣
"We? You mean the hammer has a mind of it's own?"
-JHalc-
"It's a mallet."
♣Anthony♣
"Whatever you say. We're done here."
-JHalc-
"Yea. We know."
Jay stops leaning on the mallet and swings it back up onto his shoulder. Anthony reaches the lockers behind where Jay was standing and reaches down to unzip his bag. Jay was right about one thing, he needed to pay attention to this match-up tonight, even though he wasn't about to admit it. The first match back is always the hardest. The Jack of Hearts leaves the locker room, without bothering trying to close the door behind him. Anthony can only shake his head. He had made his point, but he wasn't sure what it was going to cost him yet.
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