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Post by Osh Vaughan on Apr 4, 2021 23:49:54 GMT
Exhibition Match
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Post by Tyler Debonair on Apr 10, 2021 13:27:51 GMT
Fermentation. ***The scene opens with a close up of our hero, or anti-villain whichever way you want to look at it in all honesty... The sun is bright on Tyler Debonair’s face as he lay back on a towel, basking in the glorious victory over young Curtis “Cee-Cee” Vaughn, on the previous Monday night Mayhem. He shuffles as he feels the warmth trickle down his arms as the seagulls caw, the waves crash and the smell of the salt sea air crawls up his and our noses... The sound of the ringside bell inside Tyler’s head rings*** Scott James: “Both men showing great technical abilities early in this match.”
Mike Fisher: “Both are sound technical wrestlers, but will the power of Curtis, or the high flying of Debonair give them the upper hand?”
***A smile creeps over Tyler’s face as he takes a very deep, comforting breath, with the sun appearing to be setting*** Scott James: “DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE AND BOTH ME ARE DOWN!”
Mike Fisher: “I think whoever gets to their feet first might just take this one.”
***Tyler turns his head to one side as if he’s hearing something, as what seems like a storm cloud may be encompassing the sky as we back out and see he isn’t dressed in what you’d wear on holiday, but every day getup of jeans, sneakers and a hoodie oh and also, the towel is gone too... Tyler is sat on what looks like a dentists chair, partially laid back*** Curtis: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING DAD?”
Melanie Jackson: “Your winner….AND Progressing in the International Title Tournament……….TYLER DEBONAIR!”
***Now, it’s all black... There is no sunshine, no smell of the sea, no sound of the waves crashing, no seagulls cawing. We are in a warehouse that looks the size of an Amazon depot, ready for worldwide shipment except there’s nothing inside this building. Nothing that is but the chair Tyler is sat in right now, a television set that looks like it came out of a high-school in the late nineties. There is also a red blinking dot, in one corner a little further off to one of the sides, at an angle... Tyler slowly stirs and without opening his eyes, speaks*** Tyler: “I’m definitely not on vacation am I?”
***He turns his head and faces in front of himself, trying to take it all in, spotting the television set as it kicks into life. A spurt of white noise flashes across the screen before the ending of his match with Curtis begins to shimmer into focus. The screen at the top of the ramp is shown, along with the weird Þ symbol before the countdown and strange words, “time is almost upon us”, then the screen goes black and the arena lights return with no Tyler Debonair in the ring before the television set switches off*** Tyler: ”Nope, I’m definitely not on vacation... Alright, come on out, where are you? Who are you? Ashton? Mayim?”
Voice: ”Neither, I’m afraid...”
***Tyler jolts back with speed and sits himself upright in the chair, looking around swiftly before spotting the outline of a figure standing next to the television set, where before there was only space.*** Tyler: ”And who are you?? How did I get here?! Where is here?!”
Voice: ”I can only answer one question at a time, Tyler. I’ll work backwards. Here is the inner sanctum of your mind.”
Tyler: ”uh-huh and that works how, exactly?”
Voice: ”I don’t know, you’re the one asking the questions and you’re the one answering them... Which brings me to the second of the three. You brought yourself to this place, the same way we all bring ourselves to our prime incarnations when we’re born.”
Tyler: ”Seriously what are you going on about? Look, how about you come on over here and help me out of this chair?!”
Voice: ”Yeah, I’m afraid I can’t do that, Tyler...”
Tyler: ”Well at least point me in the direction of the exit?!”
Voice: ”Can’t do that either...”
***Realisation suddenly hits Tyler and he slams the palm of his hand against his forehead, sighing in unison and shaking his head, never looking up as he speaks*** Tyler: ”And therein lies the answer to question one... You can’t do either of those things, because you don’t exist in my physical reality as in actuality you are me. Firstly I constructed some kind of vacation spot to distract me from the fact I was sat in this dingy old warehouse in the middle of God-knows-ware, having been taken here by God-knows-who, then my mind has constructed some form of other being for me to hold a conversation with, in case I got bored!”
Tyler 2: ”Well, yes and no. I’m more like your “higher self”, if you’re going to give me a name. I’m your deeper subconscious.”
Tyler: ”Let me ask you a simple question, hoss. If someone were to walk in here now, would they see me debating with someone or, literally talking to myself?”
Tyler 2: ”I think we both know the answer to this one...”
Tyler: ”Well that’s a given, chief. Considering I’m you and you’re me... And I rest my case! And this will be the third case I’ve rested since walking through the doors of IIW!”
Tyler 2: “What do you mean this’ll be the third case?”
***Tyler subconsciously swings his legs around on the chair and plants his feet down on the ground, he looks up and continues to talk, animatedly*** Tyler: ”When I first stepped foot into IIW, Osh Vaughn booked me against Ryan McCann, Mr. “I’m too pure to go against anyone with a personality or character!” Yet he didn’t realise I had pure wrestling pedigree in my blood too and I made sure he understood the consequences of overlooking that simple fact! Case closed...
Then Osh booked me against his own bastard son, Curtis! A guy who, whilst was very polite and very talented had his own demons and yet once again, like a chameleon, I blended straight into everything that Curtis brought to the table. But I will say this, Cee-Cee, whether or not he really does have a split personality deserves a lot more credit than anybody including myself gave him credit for! So long as he continues to swerve the ill advice from his dad”
Tyler 2: ”Either one...?”
Tyler: ”Either one... Then I think he will go extremely far in this company. But he needs to make sure that he does what he wants and nobody else...”
Tyler 2: ”Like his dad, Jonny C, still can’t believe he thought he was going to be able to convince goody-two-shoes Curtis to use a steel chair on you man... Great capitalisation to put him into transfiguration too and now, we await your next opponent in the International Title tournament.”
Tyler: ”That’ll co... Man why AM I still sitting here?!”
***Tyler dusts himself off and jumps off of the dentists chair beginning to walk away, but is snapped back to his seat, yelling out in pain as he does and grabbing at his wrist. Looking down we see that he is handcuffed by one hand to a rail along the side of the chair, he chuckles to himself and shakes his head*** Tyler: ”And that, would be why I’m still sitting here... So what the hell am I supposed to do if I wanna pee?!”
Tyler 2: ”Look to your left...”
Tyler: ”Ugh... A bucket?! Really? Do I want to ask, what if I need to...”
Tyler 2: ”No...”
Tyler: ”Ok, ok... I digress. As I was saying we will find out soon enough who I’ve got to go through in order to progress to the next stage, in the International Title tournament... Will it be Anthony Tudor, “The Oncoming Storm”? Will it be JT Maverick, “The Prodigy”? We once knew a Prodigy...”
Tyler 2: ”We did, my godfather, Riley Andrews...”
Tyler: ”He was amazing, he did things in the air, I’d never seen anyone do before and haven’t since and he definitely earned that name, have you? Well, that remains to be seen... I mean the fact remains it won’t matter who’s put in front of me, as I’ll I will do exactly what I’ve come here to IIW to do, cleanse... And whether that be the soul of Maverick or that of Tudor it doesn’t matter, because in the end they all go to the same place and then... They all come back again, but until I have to set foot in the ring once more and make another example out of somebody in they tournament I’ve got other priorities...”
Tyler 2: ”The IIW HOLLYWOOD Title!”
Tyler: ”What?! No! Well, yes but no... Why did you instantly go there?? I’ve got far bigger fish to fry than the Hollywood Title, but of course it is a title and it is new, it is fresh... It is something I could make my mark in IIW with. This past week on Monday night Mayhem Shaun Hart made an announcement that he’d been given permission to give the, newer guys I guess, a shot at making a name for themselves.”
Tyler 2: ”You don’t have to make a name for yourself though do you... You already have a name...”
Tyler ”No, Fred Debonair has a name, my father has had a name for as long as I can remember... Me? I’ve never had a name of my own, from the day I was born it was always “Fred Debonair’s son” or “Debo’s young’n” maybe even the odd “Debs junior” but never once did I ever, make a name for myself so in fact... The more I think about it.”
Tyler 2: ”This is the perfect opportunity for you...”
Tyler: ”Exactly... It’ll definitely be a tough match that’s for sure, if I ever get out of here!”
***Tyler once again shakes the cuffed hand against the rail and rubs at the sore spot on his wrist. He shuffles back on the seat to get comfortable, noticing the shadow moving slightly by the red blinking light which he once again chooses to ignore.*** Tyler ”An open invitational can either be the making of someone, or a terrible mistake waiting to happen... The fact is, either you’ve got it, or you haven’t. Who knows just how many people will enter this particular one, all I know is it’ll start with two, big behemoths namely Adam the Monster and The Ultimate Destroyer... Two guys who I’d really rather not meet in a dark alley, but then again I wouldn’t particularly want to meet the likes of Ryan McCann in a dark alley either!
You know, both Adam and Ultimate Destroyer make me feel as though I’ve entered into some strange video game, they’re like some scientific experiment gone awry! It’s like I’ve won a competition to be part of some real life escape room situation and this! All this right now, is the start of it... Wait! That’s it, isn’t it?!”
Tyler 2: ”No...”
Tyler: ”It was worth a try... So next up, well... Who is next up? Has anybody actually thrown their hat into the figurative or literal ring for this little soirée that Hart has invited us all to?”
***Suddenly that nineties television set you all nearly forgot so much about kicks back into life with a hard white noise static you’d be forgiven for thinking Empire, Ballers or Game of Thrones was about to start, but... No, it’s just some random-ass promo being cut by a guy who looks as cabbage green as Tyler himself. He cocks his verbal gun and twinkles like a cringe star in the night sky before the television set melts into a standby blueish hue*** Tyler: ”Mi...key... Kin...klade... Am I saying it right?”
Tyler 2: ”Mickey Kinkade...”
Tyler: ”Got it, so Mikey thinks that we’re still in the mid-eighties! The man’s a complete generic Don Johnson throwback and expects to be taken seriously?! I mean, watching what I just did took me back to stories of when even my dad was little! The closest I ever got to that world was playing GTA, Vice City... What a ride! But that’s okay, Kinkardashian, because at Mayhem if you’ve not already been squashed by Adam or Destroyer I’ll be more than happy to show you exactly who the true pissant is...”
***The television fizzles on again, we see another guy, this time one Tyler recognises a little more, who appears to be sat on hills he also recognises, although he’s mumbling a bunch of words he doesn’t quite understand. Tyler cocks his head as he listens, chewing on his lip as the set blinks into the blue once again.*** Tyler: ”Alright this guy I know, I’ve seen him around. Ryan Hawkins! The dream killer right? I mean I really don’t wanna make assumptions brother but let me just put it out there, I am here if you want to talk ok? I mean don’t get me wrong because I don’t want to presume you’re thinking of doing anything stupid but come on... Surely you realise the only dream you’re going to be killing right now is your own, no? You talk about dreams being big and full of pressure, kind of like a huge propane tank really and whilst admittedly you’re no slouch... You’re about to walk into the ring against the likes of Ultimate Destroyer, the likes of Adam the Monster, even Michail Kingklansman but most of all you’ll be stepping in with yours truly and the only people who step into the ring with Tyler Debonair, are those who need saving, Ryan... Remember that!”
***Once more the television sparks to life and we’re presented with snobbery, self entitlement and to be blunt pompous crap. Tyler watches on in disgust, screwing up his face and laughing every now and then. He mimics being sick once or twice too before the television bleeds blue yet again*** Tyler: ”They just keep crawling out of the woodwork don’t they?, That’s now five top athletes...”
Tyler 2: ”Loosely used of course”
Tyler ”Of course, five “top” athletes who’ve entered the Hollywood Title match. Adam, Destroyer, Kilgrave, Hawkeye and now this Rico Suave looking moth... You know, this ego death I allowed myself, this moment of clarity I’ve given myself foresight of permits me to see this character, for what he really is. Kasey Miles, Oh, Kasey Miles, where for art thou, Kasey Miles? There’s always one like you that walks into a promotion and thinks you fit the competition you step into just perfectly, as if the Gods of Wrestling saw you coming and just placed it there for you...
I mean I’ve seen it happen before to my father, he won both the RWF Hard-to-the-Core title and FcW’s eXtreme title in his debuts in their respective organisations but the thing is; you’re not him... Thankfully neither am I! For both of us. I will say that I’m glad to hear you speak of being here for the duration though Kasey, I’m glad to hear you talking about making a point with the title you’re seeking to win on Mayhem but I’m afraid you’re going to have to find another route to take to show how serious you are about making your name in IIW because the Hollywood title? Won’t be it!
For anybody else who feels like accepting Shaun Hart’s invitation, be my guest! The more the merrier for my cleansing retreat! You all know that you’re probably bogged down right now with all kinds of pressures, negativity and just outright filth... So let me take care of it, let me clean and reset your clocks so you can understand your place in this world and the next... But please, make sure you leave your name on the sign in sheet. I wouldn’t want to leave any of you out...”
***Tyler goes to turn once again and accidentally kicks something, he finds on the floor a bottle of water, completely unopened and still fully sealed. He scoffs and raises an eyebrow as he cracks it open, chugging down almost half of the bottle already*** Tyler 2: ”Your captors are nothing if not thoughtful, I’ll say that...”
Tyler: ”Its even the American brand of water I’m used to...”
Tyler 2: ”I’m sorry, did you just...”
Tyler: ”Don’t, alright? I was talking about the actual brand, the label! Look! It’s TAP’D NY! They’ve specifically had the water imported from America, for me, I mean honestly how many people do that when they kidnap somebody? Not many I can tell you that for sure... But you know what I said before I had bigger priorities than Macklemore Kimnkanye, much more important things to deal with than this Hollywood title and I really do...”
Tyler 2: ”So stop beating around the bush... And do tell us”
Tyler: ”Scotty Adams!”
Tyler 2: ”... Oh, I’m sorry, I thought there was more, Scotty Ad... Who?”
Tyler: ”He won the second key in the Key 2 Success match at KKND? Also beat Russell Wayne for a second time, last week on Mayhem? A very talented individual and clearly one of the best in IIW”
Tyler 2: ”Tsk... Is he though...?
Tyler: ”What do you mean? Of course he is.”
Tyler 2: ”So tell me what kind of success he’s really had here, then? Let’s forget what he’s done “on paper”, let’s really look at what he’s done...”
***Tyler begins to get that look in his eye, when someone asks him to relive the moment he first met the almighty Drake Macon or Nightstalker in person back in 2010 and kicks his leg around ready to analyse the situation, accidentally catching what appears to be a pop-out draw in the side of the chair. He jumps down and pulls out the draw revealing something really odd... Raising his eyebrow and using his one free hand, Tyler places what appears to be miniature weighing scales along with the two vials of ashen powder onto the chair and just stands there in thought, his features becoming more serious*** Tyler ”His first opponent in the newly revived IIW, was Alexander Drake... So before you say I told you so, you’re probably right. Drake was a ripped up bean bag with about as much going on under the hood as a burnt out Chevy Impala, Pee-Wee Herman would have taken him out... I mean your first match and you’re being given guys that make Adam the Monster look like Jonny C and Jake E Dangerously! At least I’ve waited for my third match here before I ask for the “big brutes, no brains” types!”
Tyler 2: ”Oh, but then came his match at Key 2 Success, the big six in a bed ladder match! Surely he proved himself there, according to you... Didn’t he, Tyler...?”
Tyler: ”But as you’d like to say... Did he? Did he really? I mean who in that match really gave him much of a challenge other than Russell Wayne, winner of the first and real key?! Stoner? I mean, okay he was... Creative if nothing else and erm, it was nothing else... Hale Cassidy? Absolutely not! This guy didn’t know his ass from anybody else’s if we’re being honest and you know Tyler Debonair is as honest as the day is long as it serves no purpose telling anybody false truths! That kid practically didn’t show up and probably would have been better off, not doing so!”
Tyler 2: ”What about Jesse James of The James Gang?”
Tyler: ”Granted The James Gang, can do some damage and they’re not exactly rag dolls in the middle of the ring either, mercenaries for hire if anything and Jesse James is certainly good at his trade; but his focus for most of that match was primarily on Russell Wayne until the end, this gave Scotty boy all the space he needed to capitalise and I mean... If we’re really going to analyse that match at KKND, would you really disagree with me that it was nothing short of a fustercluck?”
Tyler 2: ”No, I would not...”
Tyler: ”Especially with the revelation of Jay Vaughn and Zack Steele under those masks helping out Russell Wayne...”
Tyler 2: ”And... What of Russell Wayne? He won the very first key, arguably with the help of Jay and Zack... But the very next Mayhem he went toe to toe with Scotty to see who for first dibs on their key use and well, Scotty won that one, fair and square.”
Tyler: ”You’re right, he did... But if my claim to fame was beating a man who’s so low on confidence, so weak willed he needed the help of two others, to grab a key from up a ladder... I definitely wouldn’t be hyping myself up, that’s for damn sure!”
***Tyler pours the powder from the vials onto the scales slowly, watching as they balance out before turning back toward the red dot that’s off to the distance... He purses his lips as he goes on*** Tyler: ”Now Scotty what you’ve got to understand is, that I’m like none of these men you’ve stepped into the ring against, since the reboot, of IIW... I’m not a meathead like Drake, I’m not like any of those you faced in the Key 2 Success match! Quite frankly I’d say we can probably both agree that neither you nor myself have had a real challenge just yet in 2021... That’s meaning no disrespect to Cee-Cee of course because he was a very tough opponent, but battles like you and I are a dime a dozen... You know what I’m talking about.
So far we’re on the same page, you and I... You’ve managed to take down one more than I have, but knowing you, you’ll say it’s like six more because the Key 2 Success match had five others in it or you’ll bring up the prior incarnation of the organisation, yadda yadda! But the fact remains we’re both unbeaten currently going into our match and for one of us, that has to end at Mayhem! Of course neither of us intend for it to be them, but you can never predict the outcome of what we’re about to walk into...”
***Tyler leans down next to the dentist chair to get a side on view of the ash on the scales. He closes one eye, squints then stands up and dusts himself down*** Tyler: ”I’m fully aware this is a juxtaposition for you, Scotty... Firstly I take you on, one on one, in what is just a run of the mill match up I guess to see who’s on their toes, I dunno but I can tell you I jumped at it the minute I saw the card published! And then later in the night I set foot in a match with people just as green as I am here, for the IIW Hollywood Title! You couldn’t ask for a bigger polarisation, oh... That’s where two things are complete opposite ends of the spectrum by the way...
As I’ve stated Scotty, it isn’t news to me that you have some kind of origins story here in IIW and by that I simply mean you’ve got a history with several of the guys, girls and maybe even belts here, I don’t care either way whether you’ve been anywhere before your first stint here, I don’t care whether you’ve had anywhere since... To me, you’re just another obstacle in my way and quite frankly beating people who’re just as undeserving as you to have a shot at Jake E Dangerously and the IIW World Title, is an affront to my very nature!
You see, I grew up in this industry as a second generation athlete and was always taught that you only get what you deserve. You can’t just walk in anywhere and take what you want... I don’t expect to and despite your match against Russel Wayne last week, given the calibre of opposition at KKND, I don’t feel you’ve earned it either! That’s not your fault of course, you can only beat what’s in front of you...”
***Tyler picks up some of the ash between his fingers letting it trickle back into the weighing scales and making sure none falls anywhere but onto the plates. He looks around the huge stricture and holds his one arm out, continuing to address Scotty Adams*** Tyler: ”Do you have absolutely any idea where I am right now, Scotty?? Any clue at all? No, I’m not trying to test you, hoss. The truth is, I’ve not absolutely none myself! But that’s been the bane of my life for as long as I can remember, wherever I’ve ended up I’ve never known where I am! Never known where I belong, where I fit in... But here, in IIW I believe I have found that place, I’ve finally found somewhere I can put down my roots and that all starts on the nineteenth of April when not only will I show you, you’re just as likely my “Key 2 Success” but I’ll also lay my claim to becoming the IIW Hollywood Champion!
It’s funny, Scotty... Because I never knew the you before now, the you who was around prior to the reinvention of IIW, but I’ve heard you speak. I’ve heard you mention how you used to be this, how you were once that... You’ve spoken about not being the same man you once were and Scotty you quite literally fit into that same bound folder that everybody I resonate with fits into. You’ve spoken before of purity and cleansing, two of the exact practices that I’ve been trying to instil on the IIW since I walked through the doors here... The thing is, I don’t think your words come from the same place that mine do!
I’ve seen you calling people out for their false words and claiming to be the truth and yet, I sit here and perceive you, the same way you saw them... Now, I don’t know how you look at me, whether you see me as some kind of equal, or whether you see me the same way you see them and as I see you, but however it is, one thing is for sure; the truth will out and it shall set you free in less than nine days time!”
***Tyler picks up one handful of the ash and begins to sprinkle it over himself as he closes his eyes. He blows the other handful around him as in a protective circle, before placing the scales back into the side draw before closing it and sitting back down*** Tyler: ”I’m not sure what it is, with Osh Vaugh, booking me against a man firstly who’s sole purpose it was, it seemed, to destroy me because I wasn’t following his regularly scheduled broadcasting of what a wrestler should be like but that failed miserably... Then booking me against a kid who, like me, is having “daddy issues” I guess you could say perhaps because he thought it would make for blinding figures which in fairness it was, but another one that backfired!
And now... Now he has me up against Scotty Adams... The Epitome of Excellence, The Pinnacle of Purity, The Silver Bullet... A man who is little more than Tyler Debonair on a budget. Epitome of excellence? I mean arguably in the context I’ve set myself up for that one considering you’ve yet to lose, but then again... Neither have I, so we’ll see if you’re still entitled to that monicker the morning after Mayhem, Adams...
The Pinnacle of Purity? Really? I mean don’t you just want to change your name to the Virgin Mary and be done with it? You can go around preaching about the immaculate conception or whatever... Except for one thing, hoss, it WAS - NOT - REAL! Just like your record, your talent... Just like your chances of taking the IIW World Title from Jake... I’ve spent years studying the Tibetan book of the dead, I’ve spent years learning about my chakras, I’m now working towards the seven stages of Alchemy and you really think you’re the Pinnacle of Purity, Scotty? Ok...
Finally, The Silver Bullet. I mean I’m not even sure where we go from here, are we talking mythological as in, you think I’m a Werewolf or just generally, you’re the problem solver? Lone Ranger justice style? Because quite frankly if it is the latter, it’s probably the one thing I can most definitely get on board with when it comes to you and your demeanour, Scotty boy! Except for when it comes to you and I, in the ring... You see I’m definitely not your problem Scotty, having a problem implies there’s a solution, a way to fix the jam you have found yourself to be in. This however isn’t one of those occasions I’m afraid, you’ve been placed in what is often considered a “Catch-22”.
A Catch-22, Scotty is when you find yourself in a predicament to which for the person in it, in this case yourself, no positive outcome presents itself. There is no escape, due to dependent conditions, again in this case that condition is that you’re in the ring with Tyler Debonair... You have found yourself in quite a quandary, Scotty, quite a bind and your biggest challenge to date. Bigger than Alexander Drake, bigger than Jesse James, Blade Alexander or Russell Wayne... So tell me Scotty, what are you going to do?!”
***Tyler closes his eyes and starts to lay back on the Dentist’s chair again, as the scene begins to fade - to - ... RATTLE, CLANK, JANGLE!! A noise behind the red dot in the far corner... A DOOR?!, there is A DOOR?! Suddenly two men’s voices can be heard from outside in thick American accents*** Frankie: ”Hey Tony dat’s de wrong warehouse! Okay?”
Tony: ”Are yuh sure, Frankie, or what? Pete said dock one! Okay?”
Tyler: ”NO, HE’S NOT SURE, TONY! COME BACK GUYS! SOMEONE’S IN HERE!”
***The voices begin to get distant as Frankie and Tony move away from the warehouse. Tyler jumps up from the chair again, kicking the TAP’D NY water bottle across the floor where it hits something. Tyler stops in his tracks short of ripping his wrist again and looks down, he leans as close in as he can and next to the water bottle is a black fanny-pack diabetics generally carry their insulin in*** Tyler: ”Are you kidding me?! You’re seeing this right?”
Tyler 2: ”Silly question, really... And you don’t have diabetes. Open it.”
***Tyler reaches as far as he can and drags the fanny-pack toward him. He grabs it up onto the chair and begins to unzip it, tipping out the contents. A folded piece of paper, his cellphone and a small handcuff key fall onto the chair. He unfolds the note and reads it out “YOU’LL PROBABLY NEED THIS! Þ”*** Tyler: ”REALLY?! ALL THIS TIME?! It’s been here all this time?! How did I not see this?!”
***Fumbling with the tiny handcuff key, Tyler shakes his wrist loose and vigorously rubs it with his other hand, before switching on his cellphone. He jumps up and begins walking toward the blinking red dot, that turns out to be an old school video camera. He hits a button on the top and a tape pops out from the side. As it does the cellphone springs to life*** Tyler 2: ”Better get that to IIW and quick...”
***Suddenly everything else happens in sequence and pretty fast. Noises begin rushing into the warehouse from outside, that Tyler hadn’t been hearing before. Cars honking, people shouting at one another in distinct heavy American drawl, shouts of “TAXI!” and “GET YOUR CAWFEE AND HAWT-DAWGS HERE!”, he remembers Frankie and Tony’s voices. His head snaps toward the bottle of TAP’D NY laying motionless on the floor, then looks at his phone which is already set up on Google Maps “My Location”*** Tyler: ”... I’m in New York City?!?”
***Now, we fade - to - black!!***
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Post by Scotty 'Silver Bullet' Adams on Apr 10, 2021 19:41:37 GMT
I slightly glance around at my surroundings, as I sit on a rickety; neglected oak bench within the confines of Phillips park. Just staring out to the distance. There *is* a reason I am here, aside from the obvious -taking time to myself-, but that shall reveal itself in due time.
Right now, however, I am simply enjoying the serenity and peace, alongside the typical sights and sounds one would expect from a park. Both from youths and adults alike, even children.
Smiling, I continue glancing around, before slightly looking down at my phone. Though managing to glance up enough to see a football rolling my way. Presumeably kicked by one of the children looking in my direction, and eliciting a thought back to when I played football. Or soccer, as we more commonly call it back home in Australia.
Allowing the ball to stop about fifty centimetres in front of me, I push myself up before deftly passing the ball back to the children. Or well, the child who had began jogging their way towards the ball.
Child: Thanks.
"No problems."
Smiling as I state that, I turn back around and return to my seat on the bench. Being sure to move my phone as I do, so as not to accidently sit on it.
Laughing to myself, I peer over my right shoulder, noticing a family with their dog. Enjoying themselves, much as I did with my 2 dogs back at home. In simple moments like the one the family is sharing currently.
Tilting my head back forward, I glance at my phone, yet there is still no unread messages. Normally, it wouldn't mean much, but remember when I said there was a reason I was here?
Well, they had told me that they would text me when they got here, so I'm expecting that message. Though they did say they would likely be here at around 1:30 pm. 45 minutes from now.
"Ugh."
I state, feeling my back slightly tweak. It's just a part of the war we partake within when we step between the ropes. A reminder that my body isn't as it once was - that even though I am by no means 'old' - I'm *only* 32, turning 33 in May, there is still plenty of mileage. Plenty of wear and tear on my body. Arthritis has only added to that. ---
Everything is falling into place.
Everything is beginning to truly take its form, as the shrine continues to light its flame.
Yet they still resist. They still choose to cling to their supposed *dreams*.
Their supposed *hope* that it will all fall be their hand. That everything that has been laid out in front of them, is merely a mirage. That soon enough, their normality shall resume; the passage set before them will merely fade into the mire from whence it came.
That the deathly tune; the serenading song will reach a crescendo as the poison drains it away. Yet they do not comprehend it. For they cannot truly comprehend what is playing out.
What I have been telling them all along, is what they have willfully been choosing to ignore - instead believing that they can live *vicariously* through people like Tyler Debonair.
A person who is merely a lamb, blindly wandering towards his final slaughter. Aimlessly guiding him, and those who hold faith in him, towards their own finality. And they follow him.
They elect to treat his words as being the gospel. As being a means to build oneself and recover from turmoil they may have suffered.
Yet all he is, is a shell. A husk. ---
Smiling, I notice a figure making their way towards me. Holding a manila folder under their right armpit; a small cardboard box within their hands. Pushing myself upwards, I motion over to them.
"Aye, Tom."
Hearing my words, they briskly walk over to where I am situated; smile at me. A soft laugh crossing both our lips.
Tom: Hey, Scotty. 'Sup?
I smirk, as I look at the box.
"Not much man. Glad you could make it."
Tom: Yeah, the stuff came in yesterday, luckily.
I laugh, knowing how inefficent mail couriers can be at times. Experienced a lot of them during my time. Both when it comes to business and personal life. As much as we might wish for them to be more efficent when delivering our packages, it's better than not getting them at all at the very least. So, you somewhat learn to live with it.
Taking the box from Tom's arms, I peer inside. Smiling at its contents.
"Yeah, true. Thanks for getting them."
He smiles, giving me an expression that informs me he's more than likely expecting the money I promised.
"Your money should be in your account by tomorrow."
He nods.
Tom: Alright.
I then pivot my body around, beginning to slowly walk with the box. Being careful not to drop it, as Tom places the manila folder atop it.
Tom: Almost forgot about this too.
We both share a laugh as he follows me. Seeing if I need any help carrying the box. I slightly shake my head at him, as to inform him I don't.
Tom: You sure?
I feel a slight strain in my back, but nod regardless.
"Yeah. I'll be fine."
Tom: Alright. I'll see ya later.
I smile as he turns around, heading back towards his car.
"See ya."
I remark, turning my head back around and continuing the balancing act, as I head towards the car. ---
You see, as much as he might wish for himself to be known as one who has studied. Immersed himself within the art. The science of alchemy; at one with its magnum opus, he is merely a lost spirit.
A persona who fails to truly hold the convictions. Unable to comprehend the reality of the passage he walks. The design that he has claimed as his own.
For if he were, he would understand that it is merely a facade.
A means for him to hide from the despair. The agony that resides within his soul, waiting for its time to come forth. Waiting for the moment, where it can merely leave him in its wake. Unable to contain the sprial within himself. Locked within a war to which there is *no* escape.
A battle that no matter how much he tries. No matter how much he futilely struggles, he just cannot win.
For it was already decided long before he realised it had begun. Before he even devoted himself to the alchemy he wishes to become one with. Before he even knew just what had been designed for him.
That haunts him.
That is what cuts deepest within him. ---
I let out a soft sigh, as I look inside of the box once again, this time at home. Noticing the tiny machine that is within it. Pushing it back closed, I turn across to Bianca.
"Tell Imogen I'll have this shipped out to her tomorrow, okay?"
She simply nods in response, as I place the box on the carpet. She had asked for it, but didn't exactly tell me why - just that it is related to our project. I trust her though; know there likely has to be a reason for it.
Otherwise, she probably wouldn't have asked me to see if I could get access to one. Either way, it does not matter. At least, not right now, it doesn't.
Looking downward, I smile at the blue folder resting in my lap. A folder that contains some of the pictures I took back when I was younger.
Back when I was in the foster care system; shunted around every 2 to 3 years and never *truly* able to have any stability. Anywhere that I could settle in and truly feel at home.
"Gather around children, for it's time to tell you a story ---."
I state, glancing around as if there was a circle of children. All waiting to hear what I have to say.
"For it's time for you to recieve a glimpse into who I *truly* am. The man I once was, and the man I am today."
I softly smile, as Bianca gets up. Understanding that this is a story she knows; this is more of a personal reflection than anything. Plus, she has a few errands she needs to run anyway.
I open the folder, softly sighing at the first picture - well, in actuality it's a newspaper clipping. One from when I was 8. A fire at the foster home I was living at. A fire that left me with smoke inhalation.
"I was lucky to have survived this night - as if one of the staff members on duty had not woken me up, it is very possible I wouldn't even be here."
I feel a chill run down my spine, as I reflect on that night. A night I had left at the very back of my mind. Or, so I had thought.
"It is one of those experiences that makes you realise how everything could have panmed out wildly different, if only a few things occurred in another manner. It truly makes you appreciate just how the wheels of fate turned."
Flipping the page, another picture of that night is shown to me. This one of the house, razed to the ground. Sighing, I bow my head.
"It could very well have been me who was a victim that night. Some may say, it should have been --- yet here I am. Standing strong to this day. This fire the moment I realised just how comforting hope. Just how comforting relief can truly be."
I pause.
"And why people cling to it." ---
Yet at the same time, you and I have walked similar passages, Tyler.
You and I could very well have come from the same cloth. *Both* of us have had to face turmoil. Both of us have set upon courses in order to -find- our true selves. To understand just how we are. To obtain a sense of what our realities are *truly* supposed to be, instead of what had been claimed for us.
To an extent, I respect that.
I earnestly have nothing against you, Tyler. To me, this isn't about the path you choose to walk. Or even about your indulgence within alchemy, irrespective of what I have told you.
Merely, this is about attempting to understand you. Gauge how much you *comprehend* what awaits you. The war that rages within you, much as it does within us all. A war that ultimately defines just who we are.
Just what it is, that we truly stand for, when everything comes to pass. When it is us, who must stand before the shrine; listen to the song it has devised.
Can you sense it?
Just listen to its serenade, as your moments slowly drain away. As you find yourself questioning just how it shall all come to an end. Just how it must be, to know that you are helpless within the maze.
Lost and led astray by those you thought you could trust the most. Wallowing within the sense of what you have lost.
Trust me, it'll all drown itself soon enough. It will all slowly but surely reach its end point. Yet sadly for you, that shall be once you have been left with nothing but the shell from whence you came.
Slotted within the cog that was designed for you. The machine churning as you are neatly laid to rest. ---
I stare deeply at another picture. This time of me when I was either 5 or 6, sitting on a slide. My birth father standing next to me. Both of us smiling.
"I never truly got the chance to know my birth father. We never really had that --- relationship. That bond."
I glance at the picture, a solemn sigh leaving my lips as I do.
"He passed when I was 12. Claimed within the grips of drugs and addiction. Vices that have plagued the world for the past century."
I then softly smile.
"It is why I promised myself I would never wander down that path. Why I would never fall down the passage that many before me did. For I know first hand just what it can truly do."
I continue staring at the picture. An icy expression across my face.
"The destruction it can cause. For it wasn't only my father who walked that passage."
I think back to the reason why I became a ward of the state, back when I was 4 years old.
"My mum did as well. Luckily, she survived and managed to escape. Clean up and find a route to make a life for us."
I then think back to my earlier statement.
"Yet it could have been oh so different, if even a few of the wheels churned another direction. Much like the night of the fire."
I then flip the page to one of my at my first ever primary school. Reservoir west. More specifically, the cheesy 'Reservoir West is the best' chant we used to do during inter-school sports. Back then, we thought we were poets, such was our youthful inmocence.
"Ah, the days when I was blissful. The days when all I truly had to worry about, was what I had for lunch."
Allowing a laugh to leave my lips, I smile as I look at the picture closer. Noticing two of my best friends at that time. Patrick and Cesar, who sadly - I barely talk to any more.
"But sometimes, it is those memories that fade. It is those moments, that go with the wind as you move on. As those you once connected with become nothing more than simply another face in the crowd."
I slightly flip the page once more, to a picture of me on the basketball court for Reservoir West. Back in grade 2. Remembering how back then, I was playing it for fun; hadn't immersed myself fully in the culture of basketball, or any sport really. After all, I was still only 8.
In fact, this picture was taken mere days after the fire from earlier in this folder.
'Is that from primary school?'
I hear Bianca ask this, as she had re-entered the room whilst I was flipping through the pages. Without me noticing.
"From my 1st one, yes?"
She then laughs.
'Oh. I keep forgetting you went to --- was it 3 primary schools?'
I simply nod, before glancing at her.
"Weren't you gonna go run some errands?"
I remark, remembering her saying that earlier, as she slightly laughs.
'I am. I just came in to see if you wanted anything at the store.'
"Nah."
She nods, calmly making her way outta the room again.
'See you when I get back.'
"See ya."
I return my focus to the picture, my mind drifting back to those younger days. ---
Whilst you may wish to see this impending bout as your 'greatest test'. A means for you to break away from those who have come before; pierce the veil that lays before you.
All you truly are, is another piece of the puzzle. Another cog, that is being prepared for the machine. The buzzsaw that shall bring about your final moments.
Ultimately, you are no different than those who have come before you, in the grand scheme of things. Nor do you *need* to be different, either. For as much as we may be similar - our roles in this little game. Our passages before the shrine could not be any more different.
Yours distorted by your own hands. Left within the catacombs of something you claim, yet do not comprehend. Entrapped within a game from which you have not devised an escape.
Mine clear. I hold clarity. I know my end game - I know the wheels that must be set into motion to paint its portrait.
And as much as one might percieve it. As much as those who claim to know will believe it is the world title, that - just like you, Tyler - is merely a piece of the puzzle. It is not my *endgame*.
Rather, it is the next stanza. A road that I shall transverse when the time calls for me to.
No earlier.
That time is *not* this week. So, don't worry yourself Mr. Debonair. I'm not going to look past you. I would be a fool to do so. Believe me, you are the one who has been called for.
*You* are the one who shall be led forth to the slaughter, much like those who place their faith in you. Those who cherish the same culture you hold. Those who wish for you to be their philosopher's stone.
All I am, is the one who shall leave you to burn. ---
I flip the page, this time to a picture that elicits a smile across my face. For it is one from the day I first met Bianca, at our shared high school.
Both of us sitting together in the garden near the canteen area. Peacefully absorbing the sights and sounds.
"I still cherish this day. Remembering it as if it were yesterday."
It was when I was in year 10, her in year 7. We had met due to Chili, the sister of Joely - who at this time, was merely my high school crush. Something we have all had at one time or another, even if they *don't* always habe a fairytale ending.
"It was here that some could say the seeds were planted. Either if we did not know that at the time."
I pause, gently sighing.
"It's funny how those things work out. Sometimes it can lay dormant. Untouched and unnoticed until the moment when it all falls into place."
I sigh again, a reflective expression upon my face.
"Even if it is tragedy that leads to the spark finally being found within."
Remembering back to Joely, I flip the page - seeing a picture of her and I together. Sitting on the sand at Bells beach during the 2006 summer holidays. Two months after we had officially become a pair.
This picture still makes me smile, even to this day; reminds me of how things were *before* I devoted my life to wrestling. Before I wandered down the road I roam now.
Yet, I do not regret choosing this path.
One thing I have learned, is that sometimes - things occur the way they to, in order to truly enable us the means of finding ourselves. Of realising just what - or who - we are, beyond the surface. Underneath the mask; the masquerade.
"We cannot dwell on what *was*. We can only focus on what *is*."
Stating this, I think back to the time Bianca stated that very phrase to me. A means to make me realise that the only way to *escape* from my own chains, was to accept that what happened, had to be.
That there is nothing I can do to reverse it, as much as I may desire to. And I accept that, at least now I do.
For it was the only way I could truly commence the healing process. The road back from the mire. From the ache and emotional devestation that losing her had caused --- even though I still don't entitely forgive myself for letting it occur.
Turning the page, I reach one of me. Standing in the backyard of one of my old homes. Basketball in hand. Eyes focused on the rim.
"I made this shot."
I state, allowing myself some levity. A lighter picture, to balance out the pictures that had come before it.
"Drained it like I was Larry Bird."
My smile returning, I remember back to when people told me my shooting stroke was as pure as Bird's back in the day. Even if I was nowhere *near* the shooter Larry was. Not even in my dreams. I then turn my focus to the next picture, which is of me during Year 12.
Sitting front and centre in our wrestling team's yearly photograph. This is where I found my true calling as a wrestler. Where it all truly began to fall into place - I *had* been wrestling for just over 2 years at this point, but this is where I realised my prospects rested solely in this industry.
"It's funny how it can all fall into place."
Deep down, I allow this picture to resonate within me. My smile everlasting, even as I have become more rugged. Even as I have morphed from being starry eyed, into the more jaded persona that sits here now. Staring deep into my own eyes from back then.
"Where did it change?"
I remark, pondering those words.
"Did it ever change?"
Considering this, I keep staring. This question lingering within me.
"Or was I *always* this way?" ---
The flames cascade around you, Tyler. They wish for you to become theirs. They yearn for you to allow them to consume you. To finally understand that they wish to comfort you. To guide you down the passage of the shrine.
To leave your ashes in theit wake so that you can truly become at peace with yourself. Become truly at one with yourself, regardless of the decay. Just like they did for those who stood before me prior to you.
The story hasn't changed.
The tune has eternally remained the same - it is only now, the wheels have begun to spin. The chariots have begun to ride into the shrine. The hands of fate have begun bringing about the finality for those who have desired it.
All I am, is the executioner in this tale.
Just as I have said. ---
Closing the folder, I place it on the coffee table in front of me, sighing.
"Each picture. Each fragment has played its role in molding me into the person I am. The man I have become."
I allow my famed half-smile to cross my face.
"And I hold no regrets. For I cannot regret walking the path I did, no matter its results."
I push myself upwards, to a vertical base.
"For *I* was the one who made the choices. I willingly walked this path."
I pull out my phone, opening up YouTube and clicking on 'Life is beautiful' by Sixx A.M. A song that forever resonates within me as it is the song played at Joely's funeral.
"All we have to do, is open our eyes to the passage. The light that surrounds us."
I make my way out of the loungeroom, humming the song. My mind clear and my internal eyes opened. ---
For you, that means that I am merely the one called upon to bring about your deliverence. The one that shall bring you within the flames and bring about the finality you seek. The calling that the shrine desires for you. The suffocation of all that you claim.
For Mayhem, is where it shall all come to pass.
Just as you designed for it to be.
Just as it must be done.
Salvation awaits thee, should you wish to embrace it.
See you there.
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Post by Tyler Debonair on Apr 17, 2021 23:01:22 GMT
Distillation.
***When we last saw Tyler Debonair, he’d awoken inside a huge warehouse somewhere near the Hudson River, in New York City. Believe it or not, less than only a few hours have passed since we watched that entire debacle which ended with Tyler freeing himself from the bonds holding him inside the prison he was being kept.
How can that be you ask? Well let us for all intents and purposes say that time isn’t only relative, it isn’t linear, in fact it actually doesn’t even exist and as has been mentioned on at least one previous occasion, everything that can ever happen is and, it is happening at the exact same time.
That girl you never asked to prom when you were a teenager? You’re currently sitting next to her and your three children, watching lazy weekend television waiting for the big Sunday Football game to begin... That bank you work tirelessly at for zero thanks and less wages? They don’t know you and you robbed it, getting away scott free, hopping on a commercial flight to Antigua and now live there, soaking up the sun with three hot supermodels...
Speaking of scott free, is he though? Is Scotty Adams free? No, he very well is not and neither is anybody else that has the misfortune of coming into contact with Tyler Debonair... As I said only half an hour has passed since he freed himself from the confines of the warehouse in New York and currently we’re with him as he walks down the sidewalk headed in the direction of JFK. He’s dressed for a colder spring than usual, but nothing overly dramatic*** Tyler: ”Stuck in the middle of New York City, no idea how we got here, got to get back to Manchester...”
Tyler 2: ”Speak for yourself, I’m quite enjoying it here. I think I’m gonna do some shopping and some sightseeing, maybe take in some...”
Tyler: ”What you’re going to do, is go into the Pandora store, grab Casie a nice pair of earrings and Steph a beautiful necklace, both by way of an apology. Then we’re going to hail a cab and head to JFK and catch a flight to England.”
Tyler 2: ”Man, you’re such a buzzkill... Ok, we can do that... Any idea on who could have possibly taken you at Mayhem and brought you out here yet?”
***We watch as Tyler pushes open the door to the Pandora store and walks through, the bell chiming to announce customers have arrived, but as soon as he enters, the scene flips one hundred and eighty degrees and he’s walking out of the store, holding two Pandora bags and heading back down the street*** Tyler: ”Right now, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I mean it’s pretty hard to see where someone like me has possibly annoyed someone that much that they’ve hauled me all the way from the ring in Manchester, England and dragged my ass back to the states! I mean surely they could have just told me to come back where I came from? But regardless they got the wrong coast!”
Tyler 2: ”Perhaps it’s somebody from your past life? Someone who knows you from another place? I mean didn’t you grow up here?”
Tyler: ”I did and it’s a time I’d rather forget if I’m completely honest. My dad put us all in jeopardy when we lived here, it was one of the reasons we moved to LA, TAXI!”
***Tyler flicks his hand up to call a cab, but once again the scene flips and the hand that’s raised is now holding on to a rail above the door inside the cab, he’s sat there with his Pandora bags and a couple of other things we never saw him buy*** Tyler: ”But thinking about who has something infecting them so deep, infesting, rotting inside them that they want to get inside the mind of Tyler Debonair... It’s a really confusing and tiring task, but rest assured I will find out who that person was and...”
***The cab begins to slow down and Tyler pulls himself forward as if to open the door, the scene flips again as he opens the door of the cab and we find him pushing open a door at JFK airport. He briskly strolls through smiling at an elderly couple as he does but continues to speak nonchalantly whilst moving through the concourse*** Tyler: ”When I do... It’ll be all over. But you know what intrigues me most? It’s the fact that they happened to know that I grew up here in NYC, I don’t think this was random... But what this person, or people, failed to acknowledge is that Tyler Debonair doesn’t consider himself from New York, but from California. Do you know what else comes from California? Sourdough bread, Popsicles, Apple Computers, blue jeans, videotape recorders, WD-40... And The Hollywood Title!”
***Tyler pushes open another door and the scene flips upside down, then back around in a loop. Tyler hands over a ticket to a flight attendant standing by a gate who smiles, tears off a stub and waves him through. Tyler nods curtly and walks toward a bunch of seats in what appears to be a waiting area, taking a seat as we see the television set above him reading “11:50 - to - MAN”*** Tyler: ”Why did I decide to enter myself into the Hollywood Title Invitational one may ask. Well, I didn’t really get a chance to explain being as I was somewhat preoccupied trying to understand where I was and how I was going to escape the giant warehouse... But the reason behind it, isn’t all that difficult to understand really I’m sure?
Now I already know there are people getting a little irritated at me speaking about my upbringing but it serves a purpose. You see growing up in a wrestling family isn’t always the easiest thing, especially when your parents are world renowned, when they’re as famous as your favourite television or film star. You can’t go out anywhere, you can’t just keep your head down in school or go to the movies with friends, in fact even having friends is difficult because you’ve no idea if they’re there for you... Or them!
When you’re in that situation, you just want to be recognised for being YOU! You want to be respected, liked and loved for being YOU! I’m almost hitting my mid-twenties and I’ve yet to have that feeling. Steph is the only person I’ve truly trusted to be there, because she wants to be there for me, not because of who my parents are... But come Mayhem, if they’ve yet to do it already after defeating Ryan McCann and Curtis, people will start to call me by my name, rather than refer to me by the name of the son of my father...”
***Tyler stands up and again, the scene flips. This time he’s standing right in front of the baggage compartments above the seats on his plane, placing what few shopping bags he has into them, then sitting down in the window seat, he turns and stares out at the tarmac as if in thought*** Tyler: ”Now granted I’m already within reach of the IIW International title, with only four matches to go, but what’s to say I can’t push the boat out a little? Who’s to stop me really testing the boundaries of my own mental capabilities? My own talents and strengths? Who’s going to stand in my way...? Adam the Monster? Don’t forget we’ve got Destroyer in the ring to even that score out... Adam, you can feast all you want on that big beast of a man that’s no skin off my nose! Hell, have seconds!
Destroyer, man oh man... I appreciate that you indeed are one hell of a towering, imposing figure but I’ve dealt with bigger and badder than you in my lifetime, both professionally and personally... You’ve got these guards around you, that’s okay, but don’t continue to allow yourself to be fooled, hoss. You may very well think they’re there to protect people from you... But trust me when I tell you, they’re actually there... To protect you.”
***Tyler turns away from the window as he feels his row bounce and a bag hits the middle seat. He sees a man fiddling in the baggage compartment before picking up the bag, almost hitting Tyler with it, before adding that to the compartment and dropping down into the aisle seat. Tyler glares at him before faking a smile as he turns to look at him and gives a small nod*** Man: ”Hey, sorry some lady and her toddler were moved to my seat because her husband is in the one next to me, do you mind?”
Tyler: ”Guess not...”
Man: ”Thanks, would have been awkward had you said yes! So headed to England too huh?”
Tyler: ”Yep...”
Man: ”That’s sweet, business or pleasure?”
Tyler: ”A bit of both really...”
Man: ”Wait a minute... Well shit! Aren’t you Fre...”
Tyler: ”Tyler, that’s right! Hey, nice to meet you.
Man: ”Durden?! Oh man... I kind of feel we’re having our own fight club moment. The first rule, am I right?”
Tyler: ”Don’t you know it!”
***Tyler puts on a fake smile and sucks in breath as he says this, whilst his travelling companion laughs at his own joke. He turns back toward the window and pulls the blind down as he closes his eyes*** Tyler: ”You see, Adam and Destroyer, you guys are like the Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum of this operation. Big, bad and bungling! You’re all muscle and zero brains... To some at least, but you know something boys? I think you’re both a lot more intelligent than that... I think you hide behind this narrative that you’re just these big vessels with nothing under the hood and you use your size as scare tactics because it just makes it that much easier for you, inside the ring... Well guess what? Tyler isn’t scared. I’m not scared because I already know what’s going to happen when the bell rings and the brawl begins... I already know that you’re going to make yourselves big, make yourselves tall and attempt to put fear into your opposition. Well you guys can carry on overcompensating while I, head for the hills...”
***Tyler is suddenly tapped on the shoulder as he looks over we see a flight attendant smile at him, she asks if he can raise the window blind as the plane is ready to take off. He smiles politely back, mouths the word sure and pulls the blind up. As he does the scene flips once more as we soar through the window to the sky outside and find we’re already thirty thousand feet in the air and have been flying for a while, it’s now night time and the plane is flying over England.
Tyler is just watching the end of a movie he’d picked from the airline’s “classics” section which is currently showing a “crippled” man walking down a street. Suddenly the limp the man is carrying disappears, as does the deformity in his arm as he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one. A car pulls up and he climbs inside, pulling away before a detective giving chase can spot him... Then the screen rolls credits. Tyler smiles as he takes out the earphones, just in time to see the fasten seatbelt light go on and hear the Captain make the descent announcement*** Tyler: ”The Usual Suspects...”
Tyler 2: ”Oh man! Such a good film! I will never, ever, get over what a piece of art was created all those years ago!”
Tyler: ”It was one of the best movies of the mid-nineties without a doubt!”
Tyler 2: ”And you know what reminds me of that movie? The Hollywood Title match...”
Tyler: ”Yeah, I can see that... Each one of the guys most definitely resembles someone I’ll be getting into that ring with...”
Tyler 2: ”Take for example, Fenster...”
Tyler: ”That’ll be Ryan Hawkins, that killer of dreams! That guy who wants to be the centre of attention, who thinks he has a knack for defaming those around him except what he doesn’t realise is that those same people can’t quite work out what Ryan is actually saying. I mean I’ve watched you wrestle, Hawkins and you have all the attributes to be great but it’s like you have the opposite of most people! You walk the walk, but when you talk it gives people the wrong impression of you... Follow my lead Monday night and whilst you may not walk out with the belt, you’ll definitely see a better picture in the rear view mirror; just like Fred Fenster did...”
Tyler 2: ”Hmmm, McManus?”
Tyler: ”I’ve got to say that whilst planning my escape from New York, I caught glimpse of another man who decided he wanted in, on the Hollywood Title match, Bam Miller and I’ve got to admit; he gives me the heebie-jeebies! Miller instantly for me coincides with that very man, Michael McManus... McManus is the quiet one with schizoid tendencies you need to watch out for. He takes pride in being an expert professional in his job and would make a superb marksman and I see that in Bam and whilst I respectfully appreciate this man’s words, he is exceptionally mistaken if he genuinely believes I don’t care about holding the Hollywood Title! I also refuse to believe that he, like all the rest cannot see that he needs saving. Miller lacks the emotional connection just like McManus but come Monday night Mayhem, come the Hollywood Title match, I’ll introduce him to Satori and will send so much emotion coursing through his veins he won’t know whether he’s coming or going...”
***A spot of turbulence shakes Tyler in his seat slightly and causes him to curse under his breath, before he takes a side look at the guy sat next to him who’s currently hyperventilating and praying, smirking to himself before pushing the tray up in front of him. As he does this, surprise surprise we once again, flip scenes and Tyler is now pushing a door open at Manchester Airport. As he walks along the roadside, he spots a Mercedes A-Class with the driver stood outside, holding a sign reading his name. He raises an eyebrow, shrugs and climbs into the back, clicking on his seatbelt*** Tyler 2: Ok moving on now, what about Todd Hockney?”
Tyler: ”That would have to be the dazzling Kasey Miles. So dazzling in fact he’s blinded himself into thinking everything is set out just right for him and if someone says something out of place or does something just wrong, it’ll be a reason to go berserk! Just like good ol’ Todd Hockney! Instantaneously Miles comes at you with this vibe, this essence that he just has to let you know who he is, what he’s about... Even if you don’t care! In the movie Hockney is full of this pent up frustration, this emotion he lets spill over and when you let Kasey open his mouth you can hear it all in there. Oh I’m here to be THE name! I’m THE face and nobody is gonna do a thing about it! Blah blah and you just know he’s aching for someone to try and argue this case so he can go off half cocked! Well consider this that argument hoss, I’ll see you Monday.
Tyler 2: ”Ok... Well, somebody has to be Kujan surely?”
Tyler: ”The cop, focused on using people to get what he wants? The cop who belittles everybody around him who thinks he’s smarter than everybody yet got outsmarted in the end? Yeah... I’m going to go with our resident Navy Seal or whatever he is on this one, the newcomer, Jack Ryan. This man has stormed his way through the doors of IIW, even the Judy the doors of Osh Vaughn’s house just to get a shot at the target, just to get to the truth! And he’ll use every trick and advantage play in the book to get there, just like the self-serving, impatient, David Kujan!”
Tyler 2: ”And that makes perfect sense, so I guess up next really there’s only one or two more we can discuss... Keaton?”
Tyler: ”Ahh... My favourite character of all, save the main guy of course, Dean Keaton... Keaton in the movie is a real narcissist, an egomaniac. He’s a womaniser, with a socially impressive nonchalance and that just smacks to hell and high water of little old Micky Kinkade...”
Tyler 2: ”The thought on everyone’s lips...”
Tyler: ”The whole demeanour of Keaton, just like Kinkade, has this air of flawed arrogance and superiority. You’ve only got to listen to him speak and you instantly understand what he’s about... You already grasp that Keaton is trying to counterbalance for some inability he doesn’t want anybody to know about, once again, Kinkade to a tee! The difference here is that you don’t ever find out what Keaton’s is, but come Mayhem, I will definitely expose Micky Kinkade’s! I will definitely show the world what he’s hiding and why he and Dean Keaton are so alike!”
***Tyler looks up and realises the car is slowing down, but doesn’t recognise the street, or the building he’s pulling up outside*** Tyler: ”Hey, sorry, where are we? This isn’t my place.”
Driver: ”Sorry, Mr. Debonair, this is where I’ve been told to bring you...”
Tyler: ”Where exactly??”
Driver: ”That building right there, sir.”
***The driver points toward what appears to be a slightly depleted building a little way back off the main road, just behind some greenery. As Tyler gets out of the car, he thanks the driver and begins to walk toward the huge structure that stands before him. As he climbs the stone steps and begins to push open the double doors in front of him, he starts to realise where he is... He’s inside an old courthouse that evidently no longer in use*** Tyler: ”Hello? Anyone here? Mr. Vaughn?”
***As Tyler walks further into the building, he notices that there is a wrestling ring decked out in the centre, four pillars edged around it and punching bags next to each pillar. Gym equipment organised sporadically around in one giant corner, with warm up and down mats alongside a stretch and yoga area, in another. Tyler stops dead and a huge grin crosses his face as he watches Casie and Steph walk toward him from the mats in full gym gear*** Steph: Well finally! I can’t believe you made it back! We didn’t think you’d get here before Mayhem babe!”
Casie: ”What the hell happened, Ty?! The voicemail you left at the airport said something about waking up in New York?!”
Tyler: ”I left you a few messages, I mean that entire day was insane. I’m just glad to be back, but how’d you get this set up so quick?! What’s it all about?”
Steph: ”Ok firstly this wasn’t setup quickly, Tyler. This took us ages! When Casie saw the building was vacant but the local council were willing to hear an offer, we decided to give you basically a version of what you’ve got back home in Los Angeles! Your “Courthouse” Gymnasium and training facility! And it even has an apartment area upstairs!”
Tyler: ”Wait, we’re moving out of the house already?! To move in here??”
Casie: ”Oh, no! I’m moving out of your place, Ty... We’re gonna move in here.”
Tyler: ”Okay, now I’m super confused... Casie, who’s we, in this new equation?”
Voice: ”By we, she means we, bro...”
***The shocked expression hits Tyler square in the face before he’s even had time to turn around and register his sister (two years his senior) Mercedes-Jane Debonair, walking towards him from a back room of the courthouse. He can’t move a muscle so she makes the extra effort to grab him and give him the biggest hug imaginable*** MJ: ”How are you little bro?”
Tyler: ”I’m okay, Mercy... Just muy confused! I mean what the heck are you doing here? And honestly how has all this happened in a day or two?!”
MJ: ”Well I wanted to surprise you the other day and take you to lunch, so I contacted Dr. Hankem to find out when your next appointment was and he got a bit funny with me. But asked about dad then asked really weirdly if I’d checked out this promotion on Netflix, IIW...”
Steph: ”I then got a phonecall asking why I’d not told her, your game plan to uproot considering she’d been the only one to stick by you...”
Casie: ”And when she learned I was also here? Oh boy... But, we’re all good now obviously!”
MJ: ”And no matter how much better you think you’re doing, Tyler, it never hurts to have a support bubble around. Especially of family! But you need to know something baby brother...”
Tyler: ”Ok wow... That is quite the story and yes, Mercy you’re right, I should have told you... And I’m glad you’re all here. What do I need to know?”
Casie: ”Come step into YOUR office, we want to show you something...”
***Casie waves her arm toward the back room that Mercedes had not long come from and the four of them head back there, as the scene slowly begins to dissolve into darkness...
++++++++++++
...We reopen less than half-hour later with the three girls standing by the door to the office, Tyler sat in thought on a huge office chair in front of a desktop PC, with a website pulled up showing a headline about his Mayhem disappearance on it. He chuckles a bit and shakes his head*** Tyler: ”So, you’re telling me that although it feels like me waking up after beating Curtis on Mayhem, in that warehouse... Trudging through New York City, managing to get a flight home and ending up here now with you guys, only occurred over the last day or two... That Mayhem event was actually on April 5th? And that was well over ten days ago? Meaning what, I slept in that warehouse for ages? I didn’t get sent to New York for a few days before waking?!”
Steph: ”We’re not sure what happened babe. All we know is, everybody was worried sick about you... Even your dad.”
Tyler: ”Mmhmm”
Casie: ”He was, Ty... Have you checked your phone?”
***Tyler sighs and realises that he actually hasn’t gone into detail of checking everything on his phone in the rush of getting back to England. He goes through everything, realising he has over 500 missed calls from one specific number and more than than half voicemails... He recognised that number instantly as although he’d been wanting to delete it from his phone for the last few years he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so. He nodded and looked up*** Tyler: ”Alright, alright... I’ll reach out. I see you guys are reaching out for your jackets though. Going somewhere?”
MJ: ”We were going to go out to eat. There’s a really nice Thai restaurant about three blocks from here apparently, you want in?”
Tyler: ”You know I feel really bad because I’ve only just seen you, but I’m gonna check this whole place out then go back to the house and get some rest... But hey, speaking of food, one of you do me a favour would you?”
Casie: ”What’s that?”
Tyler: ”My Uber Eats account is synced up to my computer at the house and I’ll link it here too. Sunday night, order any and everything from Nando’s, McDonalds, Burger King, KFC, Greggs and all the local joints. AND THEN... Send it to wherever that Adam the Monster is staying, got it? On Monday afternoon, I want you to repeat the process! If what I’m reading and hearing about this guy is accurate I really don’t want any risks taken going into the Hollywood Title match!”
***The four of them chuckle, but there is a nervousness within their joke, Tyler really did not want to take any chances where this monster was concerned... The three girls wave goodbye as they head out, leaving Tyler to type the words “distillery barrels, Manchester” into the computer search engine, then begin to dial a number into his cellphone as he gives himself a tour of the Courthouse and we slither into a murky grey smog...
++++++++++++
...The smog slowly begins to clear and evaporate and we find ourselves hovering above the wrestling ring, inside Tyler Debonair’s “Courthouse” gym. Lying inside the ring is Tyler himself, he’s wearing white sneakers, a pair of denim jeans and black hoodie with “seven stages” written across the front. Outside the ring, stands what looks to be a huge commentary table and on top of it at either end, sit two distilling barrels...
Inside each barrel is a mixture of black antimony and sulphur which has been purified... Each barrel has a tap extending and a hosepipe leading toward a box in the centre of the table, both barrelled compounds are coming together into the box to create a bezoar like stone substance. Tyler at this stage has sat himself up and is resting forward with his arms leaning on his knees. To his side sits something covered in a dark cloth, he taps his chin as he looks up*** Tyler: ”You know I feel, with all this going on around me and with all that has been going on around me, I owe everybody an explanation. I want to sidestep everything I’ve been talking about recently to tell you a little story... You see when I started having my, shall we call them ‘episodes’? Only one person came to visit me in the hospital besides Steph, Mercedes and Casie... To put it bluntly, only one male friend in my life, outside of my dad, outside of the great Fred Debonair, came to see how I was! And that was my uncle, Shawn King! Ok I say uncle, he was that family friend who’s been there since you were born you know what I’m talking about...
And one day when Shawn came to visit me, he tells me Tyler, when your dad found out that I’d been visiting you, he cut all ties with me! I couldn’t believe it, honestly... Okay so you and I aren’t getting along but why stop talking to your lifelong best friend because he’s checking on YOUR son in the psychiatric facility?! But that’s by the by, he says son... I decided to clear out all the crap he’d left at my place and you know there wasn’t much, a few things I could take down to the Red Cross or whatever but I came across this... And he hands me a box, with this inside.”
***Tyler pulls the object covered with the cloth toward him and slowly begins to unwrap it, he opens it all the way so the cloth is laid out like a sheet and rubs his hands over what we now see is a book, the title reads “The Emerald Tablets of Thoth”*** Tyler: ”And this... This, is where it has all started for me. This, is where I have begun my journey of the seven stages of Alchemy! Starting with Calcination, the breaking of my attachment to this world, I needed to stop getting distracted by the proverbial rat race and tiresome targets and goals that everybody else was chasing.... Dissolution, where I plunged myself into the waters of the unconscious in order to find my true self that had been buried by the ego! An ‘ego death’ if you will. Both of these actions took place around KKND, when I faced off against Ryan McCann...
Following that came Separation, specifically finding the parts of the unconscious me that had been hidden away and that will help me and my higher self to grow... To fulfil the destiny bestowed upon me. This is where I need to be really honest with myself, for there was a reason I hid all this away and I need to be sure that I’m only going to incorporate what’s really needed, into my new narrative... Following this, was Conjunction, the art of stitching my unconscious and conscious selves back together, being at peace with the two as one, not fearing but embracing any “darker side” that may reside within, for good and evil just like time, are relative... And all of that came during my battle with Curtis...”
***Tyler stands, picking the book up and wrapping it back in the dark cloth as he does so. He climbs out of the ring and places it inside a backpack that’s laying on the floor by the table, before proceeding to walk around checking both distilling barrels as well as the box in the middle*** Tyler: ”And then, comes Fermentation... The testing of the newly integrated self, putting yourself into harms way, the challenges you set to see just how resilient you are... It was not planned but my disappearance definitely hasn’t hindered the process and that would be an accurate assessment, neither will the upcoming Mayhem event, Monday night.And so this brings me to the here and the now, Distillation! The ‘penultimate’ I guess you could call it, the preparation for the finale! It is time to purify the spirit and make sure it is free from any possible remains of destructive ego... And that, will be where you come in, Scotty Adams.
I mean the last time I spoke, people heard me say I had priorities over the Hollywood Title match and yet right now you’d be forgiven for thinking it was the only match I was scheduled to take part in on Monday night but no of course not... It seems that Osh Vaughn has decided in his infinite wisdom that either Tyler Debonair deserved a bit more of a challenge like the number one contender to the World title after my debut match with Ryan McCann and such a savage battle against Curtis the past week or that Scotty Adams needed someone to prepare him for what was to come when he finally gets into the ring with Jake E Dangerously in the future!
So it’s all going to come down to the pitfalls of Monday Night Mayhem when two elite pedigrees collide in the centre of the ring and take it to each other like there’s no tomorrow because quite frankly that’s what’s going to happen this, we already know... The air is charged, the atmosphere is electric you can taste the intensity! But one thing I do want to touch on real quick because I don’t think it’s fair to Scotty, leaving him out just because he’s not in the Hollywood Title match, is what’s going on with the one character that was left when I was discussing them earlier... He’s one of my favourite characters from a movie, all told and that is none other than Roger “Verbal” Kint, or... Should we say Keyser Söze?”
***Tyler walks back around the ring, away from the table, distilling barrels and backpack. He walks towards the stretching, warm up and yoga mats and takes his sneakers off, before stepping onto them taking in a deep breath, proceeding to get into what appears to be a meditative state, as he continues*** Tyler: ”I don’t even have to say a word and I can already tell that you, Adams, along with each and every single one of you guys and girls at home have had this pre-conceived idea in your head about who Tyler Debonair is... You can deny it all you like over and over until you’re blue in the face but I only had to say a few words and you thought you knew exactly who it was, that you were dealing with over here... Just like Kint. What is it he says in the movie, Scotty? The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist. And like that - poof - he’s gone... But the truth is, that wasn’t his greatest trick at all.
You’ll soon find out exactly what the greatest trick ever pulled was, Scotty, but until then just be content in knowing that out of the ashes comes redemption, out of the fire comes a burning ember that may just give you that missed opportunity and that burning ember comes when you step into the ring on Monday against yours truly hoss... You see there’s no doubt in my mind that you believed while listening to me talk, you really thought that I was going to name you in comparison to the legend that is Keyser Söze, not a chance in hell! There may be a slight case, Scotty where I may have labelled you as the initial vision of Roger Kint... The “placid, crippled man” with no direction, lost and looking for a way out. But in all truthfulness I think we’re going to have to rewind a hell of a lot further in my story to find where you fit in, Mr. Adams.
Do you guys recall, when I was on the plane about to take off, at JFK? You all remember that correct? That annoying guy came and he sat next to me...? And he tried pulling that whole scene from Fight Club on me? And there - we - have - it! I would honestly have to rewind all the way back to this point to find your place in my story, Scotty! You my friend are Ed Norton! You’re the guy who has nothing before it all happens, whatever that may be! You’re Peter Parker before the spider bite, you’re Bruce Banner before the Gamma radiation, you are merely the narrator before Tyler... Remember what happened Scotty? Let me just clue you in because what you’ll probably say is “Well the narrator did away with Tyler just like I’m going to do away with you” blah blah but NO! That’s only what your uneducated, non-understanding mind would have you believe... The truth is that the narrator realised he was in conjunction and had to stitch his unconscious together with his conscious... He was having to come to terms with duality and in the end it was a case of someone else, being saved by a man named Tyler.”
***Tyler opens his eyes as he stands straight from his meditation, smirks and winks. He steps back off the mats, slips his sneakers back on and heads towards the distilling barrels, having another quick check of the box in-between before rolling into the ring and bouncing back and forth against the ropes. He stops short, looking up at the ceiling with his eyes closed*** Tyler: ”As I said earlier, it only took one word, one phrase from me... For you to get a pre-conceived notion of Tyler Debonair inside your head and you’ve gone and run with it! I mean what was it you said not so long ago, Scotty? You said something about all these guys and girls living vicariously through me? Blindly following me? I’m not quite sure what it is you meant by any of that that, hoss... The only person I’ve seen following me, watching what I do, the only person I’ve seen trying to “live vicariously” through yours truly Scotty... Is you!
You see for you to understand any of what I’m saying here, people need to hold comprehension in what it is I’ve done and what it is, I am doing. When you saw me this evening, I’d awoken from something known as Astral Projection... You see that’s what I like to do, I like to Astral Project, whereas you, Scotty, just like to project! Let me break that down for you incase you have a difficult time coming to terms with it... It’s a defence mechanism in which your ego defends itself against any and all unconscious impulses by denying their existence in yourself and attributing them to others...
So basically Scotty, when you said that all Tyler Debonair is, is a shell... A husk, you were projecting... When you said that as much as Tyler Debonair might *wish* to have studied and immersed himself in the art and science of Alchemy, you’d truly done no homework on anything about me and were... Quite simply, projecting! You see Scotty Adams it’s really not a hard concept to grasp, I’ve studied and I’ve immersed myself in the art and science of Alchemy for over half a decade now and I’ve probably forgotten more about any of it than you even know... But the fact remains of the two of us; the one projecting is the true, great pretender! YOU!
You talk a good story, narrator but the bottom line remains as to whether or not you can put that stuff into practice... Because we both know this isn’t about how well I study Alchemy, nor is it about how much you want to be like me, it’s about which one of us can prove his worth inside the ring... I can’t help but think that you feel that given as you hold that key, you’ve already done enough to that end. Well I haven’t and you’re in my way Scotty... Understand that once I move past you, I take a step up and we both know it’ll be a big step up from where I stand right now! So you keep reading your laymen’s websites on what makes an Alchemist, on what Alchemy consists of and you continue to sit there and talk as if you have any idea of the word vomit you spew forth...”
***Tyler opens his eyes, drops to his knees and rolls outside the ring once more, turning off both distilling barrel taps and grabbing the box in the middle of the table before sliding it into the centre of the squared circle. He reaches back into the backpack and pulls the book out again, wrapped inside the dark cloth and slides that in, to join the box before he too get back into the ring and kneels down behind both objects*** Tyler: ”The truth, Scotty, is this. Nobody cares about my past, or yours... Nobody cares where either of us have been and like it or not, we’re the only ones who actually care where we’re going. Time only exists in here, our own psyche! The winner of our match has already happened, Scotty... That man’s hand is being raised as we speak. The loser is already commiserating in a hotel bar somewhere with some cheap spirit or beer and the world is still turning and you can say whatever you want about how it’s bullshit, or you can talk about how you agree with me and you knew all this before I did and you were telling people this ages ago or whatever you want to say! And you can try and slice it in whichever way you see fit but it won’t change a thing, hoss...
See I already saw that look in your eye, Scotty, I already saw that sign. I saw the trepidation mounting on your face as you spoke and you know I wasn’t going to say a word out of respect but to hell with it, because I also saw and felt that aura around you as you spoke, Scotty... The same way I recognised it instantly in Curtis, I’ve picked it up in you! The pale orange connected with a loss of identity, the low self-esteem and the murkiness of the territorial tendencies... Your aura is also housing a harsh blue hue, exposing your autocratic nature and although I’ve already witnessed your passive-aggressive attitude towards who I am and what I stand for, Scotty, it’s pretty evident you have a strange intolerance towards it.
But the one that got me the most, Scotty... The aura that really, really blew my mind that was emanating from you, was the blurred indigo! Because for those of you out there who don’t understand, when a persons aura is indigo and it’s blurry, it implies that the owner of that aura is spending way too much time on illusions, or daydreams... It insinuates that the person whose aura it is, is wallowing in self-pity and if that indigo aura is also dark in nature, which Scotty, yours definitely was, it indicates an isolation within the world...
Now you can come at me like a viper all you wish and call me a liar, that’s okay. But Curtis understood that when I told him about his, I was only trying to help because I could see through the facade. I’ve said from the start and I’ll keep saying it, I’m here to be the very best I can be! I’m here to dominate matches and I’m here to win titles but I’m also here to save and cleanse... It’s just a shame there’s so many of you that need cleansing! When all is said and done though, Scotty and you wake up Tuesday morning with your mind, body and soul, that much clearer... There will be only three words on your mind. Thank you, Tyler!”
***Tyler slowly sidles up onto his knees proper, straightening his back, as he begins to slowly open the box. He pulls out what looks to be a small, stone artefact. He holds it high up in front of him as the view begins to back away outside the ring. A small ring-light seems to emit from around the stone; as we reverse further the light becomes as bright as a flashlight, when we’ve reached the door, a spotlight... As we exit the Courthouse and begin to back away down the greenery outside, the entire building begins to shine a brilliant white... Then we instantaneously fade - to - black!***
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Post by Scotty 'Silver Bullet' Adams on Apr 18, 2021 11:47:22 GMT
◇ Drip ◇
◇ Drip ◇
◇ Drip ◇
The sound of water hitting a faucet can be heard in the distance, as I sit on a chair, within the confines of a dimly lit room. Though, by what little can be seen, it appears to be some sort of kitchen. Perhaps it is within my house.
Unlikely, as the floorboards are wooden instead of vinyl, and the cuboards are painted green instead of the plain, vanilla white of mine, but you're probably thinking did Bianca call for some renovations?
Which is possible; not something that I am gonna confirm or deny. At least, not right now, anyway.
◇ Drip ◇
◇ Drip ◇
◇ Drip ◇
The water continues, as a soft humming sound leaves my lips. Pondering. Considering something, gentle smile crossing my face.
"Sometimes, it's what you *don't* know that haunts you. That eats away the most internally."
My words echoing, I take some time to look around this room. Envision myself simply soaking in all that it has to offer. All the secrets, all the designs that it has to offer. The story it has to tell.
For to a certain extent, each room is a means to psychoanalyse the person who it belongs to. Their own means of presenting a fragment of their identity.
Whether they desired to do so or not, it all manifests itself within their subconscious; they end up providing their own portrayal. This applies to me, too. Just as it applies to each of us, in our own unique way.
"It is the explorarion. The desire to at least attempt to understand it, that burns from within. That drives us ever so closer to our own edge of sanity, yet we persevere, in the hopes that we can even obtain a single droplet of what it holds."
◇ Drip ◇
◇ Drip ◇
◇ Drip ◇
As if on cue, the sound of the water dripping echos through the room as I softly close my eyes. Still deep within my own thoughts - picturing different scenes flickering in front of me. Pictures that I cannot fully make out, but each of them feeling vaguely familiar.
As if they were things I had experienced, and remained lingering within me. Yet presently, they are represented by a blur. Much like the room is when I re-open my eyes; survey the room once again. Though the blur only lasts for about 3 seconds before everything returns to normal.
"We claim to desire the truth, yet we also go to great lengths to mask ourselves from who we *truly* are, only allowing people to see what it is we wish for them to."
I pause, a soft breath leaving my lips.
"For it is what we don't want them to know, that we can hang above them. Use as our own *secret weapon*, so to speak."
I then smile sadistically.
"You know this all too well, don't you, Tyler?"
I stand up, slowly walking toward the faucet, before turning it clockwise. The water finally stopping to drip, its purpose and faux musical worth no longer needed within this little tale.
"You see, as much as you might *appear* to be an open book. As much as you might desire to believe that you have laid your scars. Your burdens for the world to see; embrace those scars, there are things you have kept close to your chest. Things that you don't want people to know?"
I then open my mouth in order to laugh, but intentionally withhold any sound from escaping. Almost maniacal if some people wish to call it that.
"Don't worry. I'm the same. The difference is, I don't been to pretend I've *found* a varient of *Jesus*. I don't need to hide behind a supposed *philosophy*, in order to claim that I am reborn. That I have found something that resembles inner peace."
I kneel down, pretending to pray, even bowing my head for additional effect.
"Though I will concede, if that is what makes you feel comfortable. If that is what makes you feel as if you have a shred of sanity - then I will not begrudge you.
Even if deep down, it is merely a faux sense of comfort; one that exposes your own turmoil for the world to see. Peeling each segment of your facade away, one piece at a time."
I lower my voice into a whisper.
"Even as you strive to lock it away. Patch it up as if it is merely a scratch. A flesh wound, rather than the cascade. The flood that has engulfed you. Both in body and in soul."
Walking through the kitchen, I allow a fire to begin burning within my eyes; a gentle, caring smile crossing my lips.
"Even if you refuse to comprehend it. Even if you wish to make it out to be all a part of your processes. The ends that justify your supposed means."
I sigh, before stopping next to an oak bench. Sitting atop it, before softly exhaling as the fire continues burning inside of my eyes. My irises emitting a soft light.
My smile becomes colder and comparible to a villain. A man who cares not for what is to become. A man who is willing to walk any route necessary, in order to ensure his design is fulfilled. Because that is exactly what I am.
"Yet I do not hold that against you, Tyler. All I wish to do, is ensure you understand that this passage, is the one that you chose for yourself. That your machinations are what have led you to this moment."
I lower my voice into a whisper once more. This time changing my inflection into a more sinister tone.
"And it won't fall upon me, when you are left to burn within the serenade. For I am not the one who was called upon for this - I am merely the executioner of what you yearn for."
I smirk.
"The hands of fate are yours, Tyler. Can you figure out the maze? Or will you merely become the next cog? The next man to be left within the shadows of the mire?"
Those words echo, as the omnious sound of a clock can be heard floating through the air.
◇ Tick ◇
◇ Tock ◇
◇ Tick ◇
◇ Tock ◇
"The choice is yours, Tyler."
Smiling, I push myself upwards before walking out of the kitchen. ---
"They ready?"
I state, sitting down within my office. Phone close to my ear, as I speak on the phone to Larni. The subject of our discourse being the sale of some new merchandise we have in the works. Merch that will be stocked in various stores around the world soon enough. Much like the latest in our series of DVDs.
Larni: Yep. I'm just going through them now; will have him shipped out likely by Sunday.
I smile hearing this. Most of the stores we are sending them to, stated to us they wanted the orders no later than the 26th. Something we were more than happy to oblige with.
"Awesome. Just remember though, most of the stuff needs to be declared at the airport."
Larni: I know. Jane said she'll send them the forms tonight.
"Alright, good. Make sure to send the copies to Bec as well."
Larni: Alright. You want me to send you a copy too?
I softly exhale, swiveling atop the chair.
"Nah. I'll get the copies from Bec."
Larni: Okay.
She pauses, as I wait for her to continue.
Larni: Also, Sarsha wants to know if you still want her to go through with the plan.
I ponder this. The plan, pertaining to a certain deal we have in place. One that is for a pilot - a television show we have been commissioned to produced for Channel 10. A program revolving around the 'sit-com' genre.
"Yeah. Tell them that filming will start on the 24th of May."
Larni: Will do. So, I'm assuming you also want a copy of the script and cast for that?
I smirk to myself, gently shaking my head.
"Nah. It's fine."
Another pause. This time on my end, which Larni doesn't sense. Though she probably understands that - as well as knowing that it's not pertaining solely to business.
That wrestling - and more specifically IIW - is on my mind. But she also understands that I am a very task-oriented person. Everything else is neatly filed away; addressed when the time calls for them too. No sooner.
Larni: You okay?
I sigh, before coaxing a small smile.
"Yeah. Anyway, let Sarsha know I'll text her about it tomorrow morning. Okay?"
She softly laughs.
Larni: Alright.
"Thanks. Anyway, I should probably let you go now."
Larni: Alright. See ya.
"See ya."
I hang the phone up, placing it atop the table. The impending tasks, both pertaining to business and wrestling, firmly radiating within my mind.
"Tyler. Tyler. Tyler."
I remark, repeating the name for dramatic effect. A gentle, cold smile across my face.
"What is it that you true desire? What is it, which you truly seek? Is it really inner peace, like you claim? Or are you simply looking for validation? Both internally and externally."
I exhale, as I swivel the chair so that I am facing the vast, empty space rather than the computer. Allowing those words to fester in the air.
"Is it that you want people to tell you that it'll all be okay? That you should merely stay the course and everything will work out as you designed? That both morally and emotionally, you are right? Is that what motivates you?"
I softly laugh, reflecting upon the days when I was much like Tyler. Lost within myself; merely looking for people to validate me --- before I realised that all they were doing, was acting as an echo chamber.
Luring me into believing I was walking the correct route, when I truly wasn't.
"Because that is a road I have walked before. It is a passage that I know all too well. Yet it is also a passage that leads right into a rabbit hole."
I take a soft breath.
"A rabbit hole that you will find out soon enough, there is no true escape from. This is no rope you can tug, that will enable you to break free. No singular being, that can guide you within it."
I softly laugh, smirking as I do, before slowly rising. Walking towards the middle of the room; staring around.
My mind truly devoted to Tyler now, as he is the next piece that has been put into play. The next cog, that shall be positioned within the machine.
"And it is a passage that shall eat you from within, unless you; you alone can figure out the maze. Unless you are able to find your own route. The one shred that shall lead you to your salvation - if that is what you truly seek."
I then softly lower my voice into a whisper.
"Unless you don't wish to be liberated, and are merely portraying this as a facade. A means to escape from the turmoil you refuse to acknowlege."
I allow a soft breath to leave my mouth, as I slowly pace around the room. Allowing my words. My statements to manifest themselves before my eyes. In the form of a vague portrait. An array of colours. Blue, violet, yellow being the most promient.
"What is it, Tyler? Come Monday, it shall all come to life."
I smirk, before beginning to leave the room. ---
◇ Thump ◇
The sound of a bag being placed atop our kitchen table can be heard, as I look across to Bianca. She had just gotten home from doing our weekly shop.
'I got the Iced coffee you wanted, if that's what you were wondering.'
I softly shake my head. Although it was one of the things I was thinking about, it's not the primary thing on my mind right now.
"Thanks, but nah. I was just making sure you got the tripod."
She gently laughs, remembering I told her I needed it for something. But not specifically what I needed it for.
'Yeah. I did.'
She points out a bag on its own, on the right hand side of the table. Picking it up, I hold it close to my chest as she gives me a curious look.
'What do you need a tripod for?'
I shrug.
"You'll find out soon enough."
She sighs gently as I make my way out of the kitchen; into the hall.
'Hey. Did Bec call?'
Leaning her head through the doorway, Bianca asks this as I tilt my head. Slightly shaking it in response.
Though I know she was expecting Bec to call her, regarding her own book. A manifesto if you will, that she has been working on since mid-2018.
'Okay. I'll shoot her an e-mail then.'
I softly smirk, continuing to walk down the hall as she returns to the kitchen; unpacking the shopping.
"Monday, it shall all come to pass."
I softly laugh to myself, realising I had accidently whispered that before leaning the tripod against the wall. Soon enough, or well, Monday - people will see why I ordered it.
Just like Monday shall be the day that Tyler's bell tolls. When he has to stand toe to toe with the man who has already executed his fate.
"All that has needed to be said, has been said. All the tunes, the chorus that resonates, has begun to be played."
I chillingly laugh.
"Can you feel them, Tyler. Can you sense them in the distance?"
I open the front door, walking out and into the crisp; cold air.
"The design has been set forth for you. All that awaits, is for the final moment to be portrayed."
I softly sigh.
"See you Monday."
END.
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