Post by Michael James on Oct 1, 2013 15:46:35 GMT -5
Fade In
* We open in the middle of a poorly lit church where a large covered object is found resting on the sanctuary. A variety of memorial candles are found placed on the floor and behind the object similar to something from a funeral. An organ begins to play the opening to “Ave Maria” as a cloud of smoke moves into view from the left hand side of the frame. A few seconds later viewers gain sight of Michael James as he enters the frame dressed like a modern day reverend. He looks up at the camera with a Cuban cigar gripped between his teeth. He removes the cigar and adjusts his sunglasses *
Michael James: Today, we are gathered here to celebrate the memory of one man’s short lived career. We are here to celebrate the life of a man who isn’t with us anymore due to the inability to move past his own insecurities.
* James removes the tarp from the object to reveal it as a framed image of David Dreadful. He turns back towards the camera and drops the tarp on the floor *
Danny: What do you mean he isn’t with us with us anymore? I talked to Dreadful just a few hours ago and he seems to be doing fine.
* The camera pans to the opposite side of the church to show a collection of empty pews. Danny Brannigan is found sitting alone at the very front. James removes his sunglasses and places them inside of his robe *
Michael James: Is this my story or yours, Danny?
Danny: Yours, apparently. I’m just getting paid to sit here and listen.
Michael James: Exactly. So shut up and listen.
Danny: Who died? I don’t see a casket anywhere. Or a dead body for that matter.
Michael James: That’s because caskets are a waste of money. You gonna let me do this or do I have to bury two assholes today?
Danny: Yea, yea. Get it out of your system.
* James scratches his head for a second as he looks across the church at Danny. The footage jump cuts to a shot of Danny sitting on the same pew with his entire body wrapped in duct tape. He twitches around as much as he can but is helpless under the thickness of the duct tape. The camera pans back to Michael James as he takes a drag from his cigar and grows a smile on his face *
Michael James: Now. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we are here today to celebrate the lost career of a man that isn’t with us anymore. A man, who at one point or another may have had a positive outlook on life, now settles as being nothing more than an opaque silhouette of the man he used to be. And who is to blame for his sudden departure from the general population? Me? I don’t think so. Because even if I was the man to put this insecure douche bag into the ground when no one else could it still doesn’t give him any justifiable reason to blame me for his prior failures. If he failed to deliver, it wasn’t my fault. If Dreadful failed to live up to his own expectations, it’s not my problem. I never fail to live up to my own expectations so I can’t relate with David’s problems or his pathetic losses. I’m not going to be anyone’s scapegoat no matter what I’ve done in the past. In this business you can’t trust anyone so from my point of view I was simply doing everyone else a favor by taking an obnoxious asshole out of the game. He was well aware of my capabilities so he could have quit when he still had the chance. He could have quit but he didn’t and most people can admire that. I’m not one of those people. I don’t admire or respect that weak motherfucker because he hasn’t earned it. To be completely honest with you, David Dreadful might as well be dead to Michael James.
* James reaches inside of his pocket and pulls out a bottle of lighter fluid. He begins spraying the fluid onto the framed image *
Michael James: He’s dead to me just like he’s dead to anyone who considered him to be actual competition. I don’t care who he was or the things he managed to do in the past. In my eyes David Dreadful will always be a useless piece of mid card shit. I’m above him and I’ve proven it more than once.
* James pulls a Zippo lighter from his pocket and releases the top cover. He flicks the wheel with his thumb and brings the flame towards the image of David Dreadful. Michael James pulls his hand away as the image is seen going up in flames *
Michael James: And yes, David, I understand the plight of your situation. Due to your half assed victory over TJ Pain; you were tossed into a match at Un-Killable that you have no chance of winning. Because let’s face it Dick Bag, you’re not championship material. You will never be so to think you are is just plain stupid on your part. But you’re used to that, aren’t you D? You’re used to having opportunities handed to you when you know you haven’t done a fucking thing to earn them. That’s why you will always lose. Because that’s the only thing you know how to do better than the rest of us. That’s why people like you and Jordan Caliban have no possible future in this business. On the upside, you may have finally found something you’re actually good at. It’s just a shame that your new found abilities aren’t going to work the way you may have originally planned. Instead of helping you to reach some sort of advancement in the company your so called “talent” has done nothing more but held you back. If you look at it from my perspective your career has been very similar to a train wreck. People don’t like watching you assassinate your own character but at the same time they can’t look away. I’ll even come out and admit it. Watching you lose is fun for me. It’s as entertaining for me as it is for the people who are witness to your self provoked public meltdown. Anytime you decide to cut another one of your pathetic promos it’s just another foot in the grave. Just another donation of failure contributed towards your withering career.
* James takes a drag from his cigar and pulls it away from his mouth. He uses the cigar to ignite the lighter fluid on the framed image of David Dreadful. The image is left as nothing but a smoking pile of burnt paper, plastic and debris. The flames coming from the framed image of David begin to shoot flammable embers onto the sanctuary *
Danny: It’s getting kind of hot in here, James. You might want to open a window.
* He says from underneath the duct tape as he watches the rising flames with a look of fear in his eyes. Sweat drips from his brow as Danny twitches around trying to free himself from the duct tape mummy wrap. Michael James turns back to the camera *
Michael James: Another problem Dreadful seems to have is that he constantly fails to pay attention to his surroundings. If he had been watching over the past few weeks he would have known what happens to people who try the get the best of me. Caliban and Armstrong tried to do the impossible and look where they are now. At the back of the fucking line trying to find a way to recover from the humiliation they suffered at the hands of the Personification of Perfection. Is that where you want to be, Dave? Do you want to throw away everything you have accomplished for the sake of your own spineless ego? If so, I’m not going to stop you. If you want to make fatal mistakes that could possibly lead you into an early retirement, be my guest. I will have no problem taking you out of the game like I did to so many others. That’s what I do. Ask anyone around the locker room and they will tell you that I am the last person you want to fuck with. Ask Caliban and Chelsea Armstrong. They will all tell you the same thing. They will tell you that going to war with Michael James only has one possible outcome. They will testify that I’m a man who refuses to lose and cannot accept failure as an option. I’m nothing like you, Dreadful. I’m a future champion. I’m a rare breed where you’re just another carbon copy of the same tired bullshit we’ve seen a million times before.
* James takes a drag from his cigar as he gradually begins walking down the steps towards the church floor *
Michael James: If you haven’t leaned by now you should know that I’m a man of my word. I take this business very seriously and I don’t take kindly to disrespect from undeserving assholes like you. I don’t appreciate you trying to become the center of attention at my expense.
* Michael James casually walks by the pew as Danny continues to struggle underneath the mummy wrap. James begins walking down the aisle with the cigar gripped between his teeth. Michael James approaches the exit of the church. He turns around and faces the camera as he removes the cigar from his mouth *
Michael James: I have more important things to worry about than you, Dreadful. I’m the next Evolution of Violence World Champion and that means my company stock just went through the fucking roof. I told you before, asshole. I’m the future. You’re the past. Get used to it. I’m the next big thing because I have fucking earned it. What have you done lately? Nothing. That’s what. You talked a big game for weeks and now that we’re getting close to our match at Un-Killable the pressure is too much for you to handle. Instead of tucking tail like a bitch you could have just listened to me and quit while you were behind. But you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to prove to the people that you were the hero they have been waiting for. That you were as the cliché goes, the “peoples champion”. I hate to break it to you David but true heroes don’t run and hide when things become difficult. They do what they have to do in order to succeed. If anyone is a hero, it’s Michael James. If anyone deserves recognition, it’s me. You might not like it but that’s just how things are at this point in time. I’m the future World Champ and you’re the chump. It’s like I said before, Dick Bag. Get used to it or get the fuck out of dodge.
* James takes the last drag from his cigar and he snuffs it out. He places it inside of a tin case and places it inside of his robe. He pulls out his sunglasses and casually places them onto his face. He turns his attention towards the rising flames. We notice a reflection of the fire in the lenses of his shades. James turns his back to the camera and makes his exit through the front doors. We cut back to Danny who appears to be in panic mode due to the flames surrounding the pew where he is seated. The scene cuts to static *
