|
Post by Osh Vaughan on Mar 26, 2024 12:34:18 GMT
Match 3
Casimir vs Jimmy Brooks
|
|
|
Post by Casimir Laska on Apr 3, 2024 20:00:55 GMT
Alone? You believe that we’re alone? What a foolish, thoughtless life.
[He sits on the swing of an abandoned playground. The windows of an old school bordered shut, the once bright red brick now decayed. His hair held back by a red bandana is as black as the darkest sky. One leg across the other, he slowly drags the other back and forth – slowly moving the swing. The rusted iron cable holding the swing onto the base screeches louder with every moment. He moves his hand towards his right ear…] Be aware and listen closely.
The mind doesn’t tell us to do things our heart would never beat for. Our body doesn’t react to what our soul begs from us, does it? There is no singular I nor is there you – but out of respect for your traditionalist thinking – we will conform to the daily tradition of referring to you as such.
Are you truly who you show the world?
We have a feeling you won’t answer that. You don’t believe us, do you?
Is it you that decided to choose intimacy with another woman while being wed to another? Is it you that forced welts on your own son’s back with your leather belt? Is it you – that hates your life?
This world is completely full of self-centered, exhausting, egotistical simple-minded dipshits. You all want the credit for the good – throwing around your singular pro-noun like a trophy. But when the other sides of you show – you don’t blame yourself, do you? Couldn’t be you. It’s never you.
Are you through with this bullshit yet? Have you had enough of it?
[With both feet pressing on the ground, he stops all movement of the swing. He begins to laugh quietly to himself. The laughter grows to a guttural and maniacal cackle. He falls on his knees. The old stone that lay on the playground cut through his already tattered black jeans. He swipes at the blood with his right hand, coating his face in the crimson red war paint.]
Be aware and listen closely.
Look at you all gathered around the fire listening to the silly tales. While I confess, I don’t care for you at all – to believe that I am not as self-centered, exhausting, egotistical and simple-minded as all you dipshits would be absurd.
I am the mind that refuses. I am the heart that decides when to beat. I am the body reacting. I am the soul that begs. I am everything you dream. I am the Mare of your nights. Some call it a condition, I call it an awakening.
I can acknowledge my lies, my deviations, and my sins. I can accept that my mind refuses to tell you the same story that my heart wants you to know. I can appreciate that my words are stronger than any chokehold or slam of yours. Don’t get me wrong, when it comes to physicality, your broken body fuels a part of my soul that craves contact – but my blood and adrenaline run faster knowing your mind and soul are taken to extremes they have never imagined.
You all wrestle, and I will join you in those games. Understand that my goal will never be just to hear a hand hit a mat three times. My goal is to destroy you and everything you think you know. My goal is to finally bring you to that point of your life where there are no more straws to grasp, no more chances to take. I will know everything about you – and use it to finally make you hate everything about yourself. And the most beautiful part of it all?
There’s nothing you’re going to be able to do about it.
[He stands. Left knee dripping slower. He walks pass the slides and see-saws. Dragging his finger across the decayed school building, he stops. It begins to rain. The hard rain hits rapidly against the old schoolyard. He runs over to pick up a solid matte black bookbag that he had sitting on an old statue – now covered with a COVID facemask. No shelter to seek, and no seek for shelter – he walks towards the empty and cracked basketball court.] Now that you are aware…I can finally introduce myself!
How rude of me.
I am Casimir Laska. Casimir…bringer of peace, destroyer of peace. It’s as if they knew at birth, right?
I won’t bore you with my entire story, but if I am going to get to know each and every one of you so personally – I might as well share some fun facts, right?
My father was a polish militia officer, my mother an addict refugee from Russia. As I told you before – there are so many parts to the “I” we like to brag about. But boy oh boy, is there so much more to everyone.
Yes, my mother was an addict – but she also wouldn’t hurt a fly, well, until she allegedly tried to stab my father in the neck.
And my dear father, General Laska, a respected and decorated military man that promised to protect his country men and women, unless you were an addict refugee from Russia trying to start your life over. In that case General Laska would just force himself on you sexually, mentally, and emotionally.
What a guy.
For 34 weeks I rested in my mothers’ heroin filled womb. I wouldn’t recommend being born early and addicted – trust me – it makes you see the world in an entirely different light.
For 34 weeks after, we were a happy family. That was until my mother was shot in the head, my father placed in handcuffs and forever pinstripes, and my brother and I jumping individually from home to home, family to family, city to city, state to state.
[Casimir sits directly under the far North basketball hoop. He removes an empty bottle of water from his backpack and places it on the court to collect the falling rain. His face now washed from the blood – remains emotionless.] That should be enough, right? I wouldn’t want to take you through the rest of my childhood. I would never want you to know that I never was able to play a sport and hear someone cheer my name. I would never want you to know that I never received a card from my grandmother every year to remind me that she remembered and appreciated the day I was born. I would never want you to know that I wasn’t able to invite family to a school function, or friends to a sleepover.
LISTEN TO ME GOD DAMNIT!
[Emotionless no more, Casimir’s face is enraged. He places the bottle back into his bookbag, stands up and begins a walk towards the woods, away from the abandoned school.] I say this, not wanting your pity or fake attempts to relate to me. I say this because you need to understand the full scope of what is to come. I say this because I need to make you all aware.
There will be violence to levels you never imagined could happen within and outside of a roped square. There will be moments where you doubt any existence you have ever had. There will be moments of complete panic, pain, and prayer. Rest assured you have nothing to panic or pray about.
Why panic about something you will never stop?
Why pray to someone who answers to ME!?
Promise me you won’t blame me for what is about to happen? I’ve done my job. I have made you all aware. That’s all I can do my friends. That’s all I have ever done. I assure you that I do not work with threats. I work only on promises, and I do not break my promises.
Close your eyes for a moment, friend. Hurry up, close them. Nice and shut? Good, good. Now imagine the most atrocious, horrific and life altering event to happen to you. Do you got it? Are you seeing it? Ok, open up. You now have a baseline dream to keep your mind at ease as I show you the true nightmare.
I am the MIND that will find every one of your vulnerabilities. I am the HEART that has no room for any of your lies. I am the BODY that will physically harm you more than any of your pathetic training and wrestling schools could ever. I am the SOUL who feels nothing but satisfaction for the terrible things I will introduce to you all.
How could I ever be alone when I have so many parts of me needed by all of you?
My name is Casimir Laska. But I am not, HIM.
I am everything.
beware.
|
|
|
Post by toyboy on Apr 5, 2024 16:20:03 GMT
"If only they knew how much fun dolls can be!"
The voice of "The Toyboy" Jimmy Brooks was heard off in the distance with a black screen greeting IIW's fans. The scene came into focus as Jimmy Brooks stood there in a white tanktop and a pair of flamboyant pink board pants with white palm trees. Jimmy held in his hand was his vintage WWF Wrestling Buddy of the Ultimate Warrior.
"It's kind of crazy that the IIW would book The Toyboy's first match against another person that is visibly obsessed with collectibles. See, there ain't that much of a difference between myself and Casimir after all! Yeah, obviously there are a few...he's kind of creepy, and I'm inviting. He's ugly and I'm handsome, he's fat and I'm jacked...but most importantly? He likes to play with creepy dolls and I prefer to play with collectibles that hold their value."
Jimmy held his Ultimate Warrior high in the air as if he had just won the Olympic Gold Medal.
"I've had this bad boy for years now and he's still kickin', not only that he still in pristine condition. That's more than I can say about the career of Casimir after this match on Monday Night Mayhem. I can't see his career outlook doing anything but plummeting just like the value of an action figure when some snot-nosed, brat kid decides to rip it out of the packaging. That's exactly what Casimir will be after Monday Night Mayhem, a throw away at a garage sale. Him and his little doll that he tried to scare Ed Stoker with. Maybe Ed is an elephant that is afraid of a mouse but this guy ain't no fool. This guy ain't gonna be tricked into believing all of your smoke and mirrors. The Toyboy is gonna take Casimir and end all of his stupid games!"
Scene cut to black.
|
|
|
Post by Casimir Laska on Apr 8, 2024 1:24:06 GMT
My grandmother was a god-fearing woman. Which is ironic considering her birthname.
[His back towards the camera, he slowly turns towards. The sounds of spring rain hit the decaying and rusting train-tracks that he stands upon. He kneels down on the tracks, grabbing at stones and tossing them across the railway.]
Doroteya was her name, or so what’s been told to me. I don’t remember my mother let alone hers. But you see Doroteya made sure no matter how much trouble her children would get in – it was her God that would cleanse them. It was her God that forgave them. It was her God that would protect them.
Unfortunately, Doroteya was as good as a mother as she was a prophet - considering she had to cover the body of her addict daughter, blood dripping from the bullet sized hole in her head.
[He slowly brings the gun motion towards his head, pulling the trigger against his own skull. He lowers his body towards a true sitting pretzel position. Trains can be heard in the distance, approaching closer by the second. The eerie sepia toned lights hit the foggy night sky – the ambiance is murky and curious.] I’m assuming sweet Doroteya raised her blood covered hands to pray to the God that she swore would protect her children. Hopefully in that moment her God was able to forgive her daughter for drowning herself in fentanyl as I laid in her belly. Even more, I hope precious Doroteya’s God was as forgiving to my supposed gun-wielding father.
Unfortunately, her God didn’t get the message to have the same protection and forgiveness for Doroteya’s grandchildren. Or was it sweet, sweet Doroteya that chose not to have her grandchildren protected?
[He moves from the cross-legged position to a bended knee prayer. He moves his hands in prayer to hands on head, laughing maniacally, mocking the position.]
I didn’t know Doroteya, nor will I ever. I’ve heard tales of her – but only knew her, until recently, by her “Americanized” name. Dorothy. I still wonder to this day why Dorothy feared her God, after-all her name translates to gift of God. Her being her God’s sweet, wonderful gift – would of course mean she had a sweet, wonderful nickname that all of her other God-fearing acquaintances called her…
Doll.
Now that you have heard the story, this is where our chapter begins, James.
[He grabs the camera closer. The train can be heard approaching faster with each moment passing. His demeanor changes from storytelling to intense yelling. He grabs the camera to himself and begins to walk faster across the tracks.] Are you aware of what you have started? Truly, friend, are you aware? Are you ok having a can of worms opened, a can you’ll now never close? What have you done James? We could have just rough-housed a little on that squared wrestling mat – got out frustration – and never spoke again.
You have truly fucked up, Jimmy.
James, I won’t pretend to be your God – as I find people’s Gods to be as fake as the toys you play with. I will promise you something completely real though, friend…
I will not protect you. I will not forgive you. You will forever fear me.
[He places the camera on the ground and walks back towards the tracks. His walk changes from calm and confident to deranged and diabolical. The noises louder, the lights brighter – but he remains standing tall on the tracks regardless.]
Just like Dorothy, you James, are a liar. To be completely candid with you, I despise liars. Jimmy, I fucking hate liars. So now you have put me in an extremely upsetting but captivating circumstance. What have you done James? We could have beat each other up for 20 minutes and collected a paycheck. You could have asked James. You should have asked James. There’s no longer time to become aware of what you have done.
You’re putting yourself in places you don’t belong James. You’re talking about me as if you know me, Jimmy. I’m not talking about your insults either friend. Ironic the grown man playing with toys has the same insults as the age group those toys are meant for.
[The sepia lights above flicker. The spring rain turns into a full-frontal downpour. The thunder accentuates the background noise even more. The train that could be heard can now be seen. The lights growing brighter, the speed gaining momentum.] I need you to listen close James, and feel free to invite any of your locker room lackeys to join in on the lesson. These dolls people are speaking of are completely lost on me. If I were to target someone, it would be with much more than a collection of cotton and string. Again, listen to me as closely as you fucking can James Brooks – I am not here to play games, I am not here to play with dolls – to be completely honest I am not here for the accolades and fame that come with this industry.
James, I am here to absolutely destroy and ruin the lives of fake, plastic, lying pieces of human bullshit such as yourself. I am here to make you all feel again, Jimmy. I am here to make you all remember what you have had – so I can get the one joy of taking it all away. You seem to have me confused with someone else, friend. You seem to assume that I play with puppets and dolls – because I don’t walk the same path as the rest of you. You seem to assume I’ve spent time in a Fun House, because I don’t follow the same rules as you all.
My life has been nothing short of any of your worst nightmares. You think I spread smoke and mirrors? James, I spread fear and truth, and don’t you ever, for one more moment – think you will act like you know a God Damn thing about me.
Instead of playing with puppets, dolls, and figurines – I imagined, I dreamed, I wondered.
I imagined that one day I could put somebody into the same hell that Dorothy’s God had put me in.
I dreamed that I could show the whole world how truly awful it is behind the smoke and mirrors you cowards hide behind.
[The wind faster. The tone intensifying. The time reducing.]
I wondered, as my whole world fell down before I was even old enough to understand the storm that hit it, why it was me that was targeted. Why it was me that never got a chance to be a child. Why it was me that never got a chance to find support and care from a mother or father. Why it was me that had to pave his own way through every fucking step I have ever taken. You wanted to stick your thick plastic head into business that wasn’t yours James. You want to play games Jimmy? Congratulations for becoming the first head I rip off and throw into the burn pile. I hope you bring the brightest pink shorts you’ve ever worn come Monday – because I cannot wait to use your blood to turn them Crimson Red, friend.
Be my guest and ask your dear family to watch the show begin. Please don’t forget to give them an itemized list of those toys you play with. If they truly hold any value, they may be able to help pay for your funeral expenses James.
As for the rest of you atrocious, phony scumbags living in your bullshit simulation – I highly suggest keeping my name and whatever idea you have of me, out of your heart, minds and mouth.
For those that haven’t…
[He still stands there, no panic, no movement. The train is immediately behind him, the lights completely take over the entirety of the screen. All that is heard is now the roar of the train passing through the camera’s view. The train passes. The thunder rolls. The rain gains velocity. He’s no longer there.] beware.
|
|