Post by Jebediah Crowe on Nov 20, 2014 20:16:14 GMT
Victory. The scent, the feel, the pleasure of it, is almost like a drug itself. The first battle of the war has fallen in favor of my army, my followers. But yet, I am not satisfied with this. The walls have just crumbled. Now, it is time to invade, to strike, to conquer. It is only a matter of time, heathens!
My name will be etched in history, as history itself!
Death showed that he was truly the more dominant of the giants. Solomon Khan struck Death with all that he had, yet, he could not keep Death on the ground. This man, well over four hundred pounds, was launched into the air by my behemoth. FOUR HUNDRED POUNDS! Like a rag doll, flung to the ground like it was nothing.
Now, we must move on to the next event. The Survival of the Fittest, which puts my men against four other combatants! In this situation, I must reveal the second of the four signs of The Apocalypse. With this second sign, I shall be able to match someone who will compliment Death quite well!
Heed these words, children. You cannot stop Death. You cannot avoid Death. You may delay him, cheat him. But he will always succeed.
There was a question that seems to be constant in all those that have seen my masterful creation. How was I able to obtain Death? Why would someone so massive, a freak of nature, use his talents to follow an old man like I? It is quite a simple story to be frank. You see, had it not been for me, Death would probably be rotting in prison right now. He needed me to help him in his darkest hour.
And in that darkest hour, I helped him unleash his darkest beast.
Death was formerly known as Curtis Dawson, a misfit in society. He enjoyed drugs, violence, the fast life. Did he have any family? I do not know where they were, but what I did know was that the bridge between them had been burned beyond repair. There was no going back to them.
I was given the chance to create a monster, and I’d be damned not to take this golden opportunity to grasp it while I could.
Thus began the evolution of Curtis Dawson, lost soul, to Death, soulless.
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Inside the garage of a house holds Curtis Dawson, a thug, the bully on the block. His size is uncanny, rivaled by no one around him. A physical force able to take whatever he wants. He was wearing a green plaid flannel with black Nike sweatpants, his size nineteen feet covered with a pair of Timberland boots.
Dawson is leaning back in a black leather chair, a razor blade with white snow sitting in front of him. He is simply toying with it, chopping it up, and then putting back into the pile. From speakers he has next to him, “Goldie” by A$AP Rocky played through them. He was relaxed at the moment, something not seen often by the mammoth.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Curtis Dawson
Who’s there?
Unknown
It’s Jackson, bro.
Jackson Smith, the partner in crime of Curtis Dawson. Dawson gets up out of his seat, taking his sweet time to get to the door. He pulls the front of his flannel up, exposing a .38 Special in his possession. Dawson peeped through the door, making sure no one was with Jackson trying any funny business. The only one there is Jackson, looking around himself to make sure there was no one watching him.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door swung open quickly, Dawson grasping the sweater of Jackson and yanking him into the garage. The door slammed quickly behind him. Jackson was not pleased in the slightest with the rough nature of Curtis.
Jackson Smith
Bro, what the fuck!?! I didn’t drop eighty dollars on this sweater for your big monkey ass to tear it up!
Curtis Dawson
Shut up, bitch! You know we’re being looked at by the cops!
Curtis peeped through the door one more time. He couldn’t be any more careful. Jackson fixed his sweater, as Curtis finally walked away from the door. Jackson shook his head, seeing how his partner has become paranoid of sorts as of late.
Jackson Smith
Bro, you gotta chill! They aren’t gonna do shit to you!
Curtis Dawson
I’m a drug dealer, Jackson! The second I relax, that’s when I lose it all!
Jackson Smith
I’m just saying, man.
Curtis walked back over to his table, cutting the music. He sat down in his chair, leaning back in it. Inhale, exhale. He took several of these deep breaths. Sleep had lacked the giant as of late. He felt is time running low, knowing he couldn’t deal drugs for the rest of his life at this rate.
Curtis Dawson
You got the money?
Jackson Smith
About that…
Jackson took his blue snapback off, scratching the back of his head. Dawson immediately leaned forward, curious as to what the reasoning behind the lack of funds were. It was not the first time Jackson had failed to bring him money.
Curtis Dawson
Damn it, Jackson! How many times are you going to fuck this up!?!
Jackson Smith
Fuck you! I didn’t do shit!
Curtis stood up, towering over the much smaller Jackson. Smith quickly backed away from Dawson, not looking to aggravate him anymore than he is expressing.
Curtis Dawson
I’m not here to play any of your fucking games! Where is it!?!
He clenched his fist, veins beginning to become visible in his forearms. Jackson wasn’t a novice at this. He knew he had to try and calm the angered Curtis.
Jackson Smith
Look, bro, the guy has been ducking me…but I got a plan.
Curtis becomes slightly less tense, his face turning from a hot read back to the regular tan complexion.
Jackson Smith
The guy lives on the corner of Patterson and Mooney. So if he won’t come to us…we go to him.
Curtis Dawson
Fuck no. Absolutely not.
Curtis sat back down in his chair. He was quickly getting tired of Jackson’s failure to get him his money.
Jackson Smith
Come on, Curt! You have any other way to get this money?
Curtis Dawson
I do, and it’s by you getting your head out of your ass and getting it yourself!
Jackson Smith
Bro, it’s about more than just the money…
Jackson puts his hands on the table, cautiously saying his secret to Dawson even though they are the only two in the garage.
Jackson Smith
The dude runs a trafficking ring and he has a safe, MAD cash! We get in there when he isn’t, and we take everything he’s got!
This caught Dawson’s attention. There was one thing that Dawson loved over everything else, and that was money. His greed drove him past logical thinking. This was just another instance.
Curtis Dawson
How much are we talking here?
Jackson Smith
Thousands…maybe even in the hundreds…we’d be made if we got that!
Curtis Dawson
Yeah…I like it…alright, Jackson. Go find out when that house is empty and we will get on top of it.
Jackson Smith
Alright, homie. I’ll call you the second I see him leave.
The two dab, saying their farewells. Curtis follows Jackson to the door, locking it behind him once he has left. This was about to be the heist he needed. No longer was he going to need to deal drugs. With the money, he could do whatever he wanted. Curtis sat back into his chair, pulling a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket. He rolls it up, placing one of the bill into his nostril. He inhales the powder into his nose, instant euphoria flowing through his body.
He was ready. Heart racing, blood flowing, energy spreading from head to toe in his body. He felt like he was on top of the world.
Nothing could bring him down.
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One, two, three, four. Four opponents. Close to a thousand pounds of force facing off against my men. I could simply send Death at all four of them, but I do not need to see my wrecking ball weakened over a fight against some peasants. No, that will not do at all. I must act accordingly to the situation.
I must reveal the second sign.
This second sign, one that combines quite well with Death, will surely be an unstoppable force. His speed, his cunning, will match up well with Death’s brute force. Yes…that should do nicely. Plus, if those fools, especially Solomon Khan and Gibberg, know what they are up against, they will simply flee in terror just from the sight of us, of me!
Such simpletons…now they throw Cactus Jeff and Thunder Sid at me!?! What kind of a joke is this? Do they not see that Death and the rest of my followers will crush them!?! These battles are only building momentum for us, for me. Soon, I will be able to capture control of the federation, as everyone below us will be chanting my name.
“All hail Jebediah Crowe!”
Doesn’t that just sound marvelous? To have all these underlings, bowing before my feet, begging me not to end their sinful lives? If they wish to follow under me, however, I will forgive them for their crimes and help them understand the true meaning of life. It will good for them to have only one idol in life.
Not Allah. Not Jesus Christ. No other god.
That idol will be me.
Where was I with Death? Oh yes! You see, Death was ready to make this robbery, but you see, there was a simple twist to this shindig that he had not caught onto. Finally, when he did, it was too late for him. It was truly a sad way for him to find out he was now at the bottom of the food chain. Yet, being at the bottom allowed me the chance to get to save him and bring him straight back up.
And to think, all it took was for one person to turn his back on him.
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Curtis Dawson has received the phone call from Jackson. The man had left his house, and his safe of luxury for the taking. The two were camped out of the house, making sure that there was no one around. Both carried large backpacks, needed to carry the cash. In between several bushes, donning all black hoodies, sweats, hats, the two were invisible in the night.
It was time for them to strike.
Curtis Dawson
Let’s go.
Jackson Smith
I’ll get the door.
The two, crouched in stealth, made their way to the back door of the house. Jackson pulled out a pick and wrench, sliding them into the lock of the door. Twisting and turning, Jackson easily unlocks the door, a practice he had perfected over the years. Now, they had to locate the safe.
Jackson Smith
Let’s split up, I’ll check down here, you check upstairs.
Dawson nodded his head, as he made his ascension up the stairs. He looked around, making sure that there was no one in sight. The coast was clear, and all he had to do now was find the safe. Opening and closing drawers, looking underneath dressers and beds, Dawson was having no luck finding what he needed.
Finally, he hit his break.
A large portrait, that of Malcolm X, Islamic civil rights activist, hung within what was the master bedroom. No other room had any sort of portraits like that. Dawson believed this had to have been the spot. Slowly taking the picture down, he looked behind it.
Bingo.
A safe, sealed into the wall. This had to be where the man was holding his cash. From the inside of his sweats, Curtis pulled out a crowbar and began to dislodge the safe. With his size, it took no effort at all, and he was able to pry the door open. However, what was on the inside was probably the exact opposite of what he was expecting.
A note was all that rested in the safe. There was no money in there whatsoever. Could Jackson’s tip have been wrong? Curiosity peaked Curtis’s attention. What could it have possible have said? He grabbed the note and opened it, to a startling revelation.
“Whoever can surprise well must conquer. It’s time for someone else to take over for you.
Regards,
Jackson”
The bastard had set him up. Red and blue lights began to shine outside of the house. Curtis had just realized what had happened. The man that had been so uptight, so cautious about every move he made, did not ever think to look at the person he had trusted the most to be the one he should have been cautious with all along.
Police Officer
This is the police! Come out with your hands up!
The sound from the megaphone was all Dawson could hear. It was almost if it was a shriek that caused his eardrums to bleed. He barely was able to close the safe and put the portrait back up, trying to clean up everything he could as fast as possible. The cocaine that remained in his system only fueled the heart even more. Rage, anger filled his body. He could not believe what had just happened.
He suddenly found everything that he had in life, gone.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
And so, twas greed that killed the beast.
It is a sad way for the giant to go down. To have his own friend backstab him seems so typical, yet always a twist that no one sees coming. Greed filled the giant, and greed killed the giant. His life looked to be over from there. Who was going to want him?
Well, me of course!
My name will be etched in history, as history itself!
Death showed that he was truly the more dominant of the giants. Solomon Khan struck Death with all that he had, yet, he could not keep Death on the ground. This man, well over four hundred pounds, was launched into the air by my behemoth. FOUR HUNDRED POUNDS! Like a rag doll, flung to the ground like it was nothing.
Now, we must move on to the next event. The Survival of the Fittest, which puts my men against four other combatants! In this situation, I must reveal the second of the four signs of The Apocalypse. With this second sign, I shall be able to match someone who will compliment Death quite well!
Heed these words, children. You cannot stop Death. You cannot avoid Death. You may delay him, cheat him. But he will always succeed.
There was a question that seems to be constant in all those that have seen my masterful creation. How was I able to obtain Death? Why would someone so massive, a freak of nature, use his talents to follow an old man like I? It is quite a simple story to be frank. You see, had it not been for me, Death would probably be rotting in prison right now. He needed me to help him in his darkest hour.
And in that darkest hour, I helped him unleash his darkest beast.
Death was formerly known as Curtis Dawson, a misfit in society. He enjoyed drugs, violence, the fast life. Did he have any family? I do not know where they were, but what I did know was that the bridge between them had been burned beyond repair. There was no going back to them.
I was given the chance to create a monster, and I’d be damned not to take this golden opportunity to grasp it while I could.
Thus began the evolution of Curtis Dawson, lost soul, to Death, soulless.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Inside the garage of a house holds Curtis Dawson, a thug, the bully on the block. His size is uncanny, rivaled by no one around him. A physical force able to take whatever he wants. He was wearing a green plaid flannel with black Nike sweatpants, his size nineteen feet covered with a pair of Timberland boots.
Dawson is leaning back in a black leather chair, a razor blade with white snow sitting in front of him. He is simply toying with it, chopping it up, and then putting back into the pile. From speakers he has next to him, “Goldie” by A$AP Rocky played through them. He was relaxed at the moment, something not seen often by the mammoth.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Curtis Dawson
Who’s there?
Unknown
It’s Jackson, bro.
Jackson Smith, the partner in crime of Curtis Dawson. Dawson gets up out of his seat, taking his sweet time to get to the door. He pulls the front of his flannel up, exposing a .38 Special in his possession. Dawson peeped through the door, making sure no one was with Jackson trying any funny business. The only one there is Jackson, looking around himself to make sure there was no one watching him.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door swung open quickly, Dawson grasping the sweater of Jackson and yanking him into the garage. The door slammed quickly behind him. Jackson was not pleased in the slightest with the rough nature of Curtis.
Jackson Smith
Bro, what the fuck!?! I didn’t drop eighty dollars on this sweater for your big monkey ass to tear it up!
Curtis Dawson
Shut up, bitch! You know we’re being looked at by the cops!
Curtis peeped through the door one more time. He couldn’t be any more careful. Jackson fixed his sweater, as Curtis finally walked away from the door. Jackson shook his head, seeing how his partner has become paranoid of sorts as of late.
Jackson Smith
Bro, you gotta chill! They aren’t gonna do shit to you!
Curtis Dawson
I’m a drug dealer, Jackson! The second I relax, that’s when I lose it all!
Jackson Smith
I’m just saying, man.
Curtis walked back over to his table, cutting the music. He sat down in his chair, leaning back in it. Inhale, exhale. He took several of these deep breaths. Sleep had lacked the giant as of late. He felt is time running low, knowing he couldn’t deal drugs for the rest of his life at this rate.
Curtis Dawson
You got the money?
Jackson Smith
About that…
Jackson took his blue snapback off, scratching the back of his head. Dawson immediately leaned forward, curious as to what the reasoning behind the lack of funds were. It was not the first time Jackson had failed to bring him money.
Curtis Dawson
Damn it, Jackson! How many times are you going to fuck this up!?!
Jackson Smith
Fuck you! I didn’t do shit!
Curtis stood up, towering over the much smaller Jackson. Smith quickly backed away from Dawson, not looking to aggravate him anymore than he is expressing.
Curtis Dawson
I’m not here to play any of your fucking games! Where is it!?!
He clenched his fist, veins beginning to become visible in his forearms. Jackson wasn’t a novice at this. He knew he had to try and calm the angered Curtis.
Jackson Smith
Look, bro, the guy has been ducking me…but I got a plan.
Curtis becomes slightly less tense, his face turning from a hot read back to the regular tan complexion.
Jackson Smith
The guy lives on the corner of Patterson and Mooney. So if he won’t come to us…we go to him.
Curtis Dawson
Fuck no. Absolutely not.
Curtis sat back down in his chair. He was quickly getting tired of Jackson’s failure to get him his money.
Jackson Smith
Come on, Curt! You have any other way to get this money?
Curtis Dawson
I do, and it’s by you getting your head out of your ass and getting it yourself!
Jackson Smith
Bro, it’s about more than just the money…
Jackson puts his hands on the table, cautiously saying his secret to Dawson even though they are the only two in the garage.
Jackson Smith
The dude runs a trafficking ring and he has a safe, MAD cash! We get in there when he isn’t, and we take everything he’s got!
This caught Dawson’s attention. There was one thing that Dawson loved over everything else, and that was money. His greed drove him past logical thinking. This was just another instance.
Curtis Dawson
How much are we talking here?
Jackson Smith
Thousands…maybe even in the hundreds…we’d be made if we got that!
Curtis Dawson
Yeah…I like it…alright, Jackson. Go find out when that house is empty and we will get on top of it.
Jackson Smith
Alright, homie. I’ll call you the second I see him leave.
The two dab, saying their farewells. Curtis follows Jackson to the door, locking it behind him once he has left. This was about to be the heist he needed. No longer was he going to need to deal drugs. With the money, he could do whatever he wanted. Curtis sat back into his chair, pulling a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket. He rolls it up, placing one of the bill into his nostril. He inhales the powder into his nose, instant euphoria flowing through his body.
He was ready. Heart racing, blood flowing, energy spreading from head to toe in his body. He felt like he was on top of the world.
Nothing could bring him down.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
One, two, three, four. Four opponents. Close to a thousand pounds of force facing off against my men. I could simply send Death at all four of them, but I do not need to see my wrecking ball weakened over a fight against some peasants. No, that will not do at all. I must act accordingly to the situation.
I must reveal the second sign.
This second sign, one that combines quite well with Death, will surely be an unstoppable force. His speed, his cunning, will match up well with Death’s brute force. Yes…that should do nicely. Plus, if those fools, especially Solomon Khan and Gibberg, know what they are up against, they will simply flee in terror just from the sight of us, of me!
Such simpletons…now they throw Cactus Jeff and Thunder Sid at me!?! What kind of a joke is this? Do they not see that Death and the rest of my followers will crush them!?! These battles are only building momentum for us, for me. Soon, I will be able to capture control of the federation, as everyone below us will be chanting my name.
“All hail Jebediah Crowe!”
Doesn’t that just sound marvelous? To have all these underlings, bowing before my feet, begging me not to end their sinful lives? If they wish to follow under me, however, I will forgive them for their crimes and help them understand the true meaning of life. It will good for them to have only one idol in life.
Not Allah. Not Jesus Christ. No other god.
That idol will be me.
Where was I with Death? Oh yes! You see, Death was ready to make this robbery, but you see, there was a simple twist to this shindig that he had not caught onto. Finally, when he did, it was too late for him. It was truly a sad way for him to find out he was now at the bottom of the food chain. Yet, being at the bottom allowed me the chance to get to save him and bring him straight back up.
And to think, all it took was for one person to turn his back on him.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Curtis Dawson has received the phone call from Jackson. The man had left his house, and his safe of luxury for the taking. The two were camped out of the house, making sure that there was no one around. Both carried large backpacks, needed to carry the cash. In between several bushes, donning all black hoodies, sweats, hats, the two were invisible in the night.
It was time for them to strike.
Curtis Dawson
Let’s go.
Jackson Smith
I’ll get the door.
The two, crouched in stealth, made their way to the back door of the house. Jackson pulled out a pick and wrench, sliding them into the lock of the door. Twisting and turning, Jackson easily unlocks the door, a practice he had perfected over the years. Now, they had to locate the safe.
Jackson Smith
Let’s split up, I’ll check down here, you check upstairs.
Dawson nodded his head, as he made his ascension up the stairs. He looked around, making sure that there was no one in sight. The coast was clear, and all he had to do now was find the safe. Opening and closing drawers, looking underneath dressers and beds, Dawson was having no luck finding what he needed.
Finally, he hit his break.
A large portrait, that of Malcolm X, Islamic civil rights activist, hung within what was the master bedroom. No other room had any sort of portraits like that. Dawson believed this had to have been the spot. Slowly taking the picture down, he looked behind it.
Bingo.
A safe, sealed into the wall. This had to be where the man was holding his cash. From the inside of his sweats, Curtis pulled out a crowbar and began to dislodge the safe. With his size, it took no effort at all, and he was able to pry the door open. However, what was on the inside was probably the exact opposite of what he was expecting.
A note was all that rested in the safe. There was no money in there whatsoever. Could Jackson’s tip have been wrong? Curiosity peaked Curtis’s attention. What could it have possible have said? He grabbed the note and opened it, to a startling revelation.
“Whoever can surprise well must conquer. It’s time for someone else to take over for you.
Regards,
Jackson”
The bastard had set him up. Red and blue lights began to shine outside of the house. Curtis had just realized what had happened. The man that had been so uptight, so cautious about every move he made, did not ever think to look at the person he had trusted the most to be the one he should have been cautious with all along.
Police Officer
This is the police! Come out with your hands up!
The sound from the megaphone was all Dawson could hear. It was almost if it was a shriek that caused his eardrums to bleed. He barely was able to close the safe and put the portrait back up, trying to clean up everything he could as fast as possible. The cocaine that remained in his system only fueled the heart even more. Rage, anger filled his body. He could not believe what had just happened.
He suddenly found everything that he had in life, gone.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
And so, twas greed that killed the beast.
It is a sad way for the giant to go down. To have his own friend backstab him seems so typical, yet always a twist that no one sees coming. Greed filled the giant, and greed killed the giant. His life looked to be over from there. Who was going to want him?
Well, me of course!
Well howdy there pardner.