Post by Deathtrain on Jun 30, 2013 15:12:31 GMT
The scene opens up in a tiny courtroom. The pews are lined with people anxiously awaiting for the days sessions to begin. The bailiff enters the courtroom from a side door and stops in front of the witness chair. "All rise for the honorable judge and your king," he calls as everyone stands up. From the side door comes Deathtrain, clothed in a judicial robe and a golden crown set with rubies upon his head. He stops at his chair behind the bench and stares at the crowd with an evil smirk on his face. He sits down and begins rifling through his paperwork. "You may be seated," the bailiff informs the crowd. They sit down with a loud thump, echoing throughout the tiny room. Deathtrain waves his hand to silence the chatter and movement from the people.
We will start off today's proceedings with case number 133-316-666, the case of persons Cable Arcane, Mike Mach-excuse me MIGUEL Muchado and Mike Laszlo versus the King of all the realm, Deathtrain. Bailiff, please bring the accused from their cells.
The bailiff returns to the side room and comes out with the three aforementioned men, each one where brown rags and chained to one another by shackles. The bailiff marches them along and stops them in front of the bench. Deathtrain stares down at the three men as they look back with confused expressions.
Gentlemen, do you know what charges are being brought up against you?
All three men shake their heads in unison. They have no idea what is going on. The last thing any of them could remember was falling asleep and waking up in this strange situation.
Cable, Miguel and Mike....You three have been accused of acts of treason and plotting to remove your King from his throne. How do you plead?
Cable: Treason?...what? Not guilty, I guess.
Miguel: Yo no soy culpable, dude,
Mike: Pfft...whatever.
Let the record state that these three men have entered a plea of not guilty. I will take this into consideration as we take a short recess. Bailiff, keep your eye on them.
Deathtrain gets to his feet and makes his way back to his chambers, leaving the three men completely shocked and disoriented. What the hell is going on?
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You know, when I decided to make my return to the world of wrestling, it was not so that I could take a backseat to all these hotshots with chips on their shoulders and something to prove. No, I came back to leave my mark, to continue the work I had started so many years ago and to cause as much suffering and unrest as I possibly could. Some would say that I've fallen short of that goal, that I've let myself believe some kind of unrealistic vision where I think I'm some kind of superior being, when in reality I'm nothing more than a mere mortal, a peasant among the gods. Now, I could sit back and listen to these detractors, these "unbelievers" and allow myself to believe what they think....OR...I could see their criticisms for what they truly are....lies. They're all lies, every last one of them, concocted to lure the masses into a false sense of security, like they have some kind of protection from the depravity I seek to unleash. I choose the latter, for within the darkness I can see the harsh truths of reality.
You all think that just by simply hiding behind all of your lies that you can escape my brutality. That is your downfall, because none of you truly realize the agony which you are about to face. None of you can comrehend the anguish, the malicious malady that is in your future. I have promised all of these things since returning and, while not yet emerging victorious in battle, I have doled out sufficient punishment enough against all who stood against me. None of my opponents have walked away without their share of scars and I intend to keep it that way in the future.
As for last Monday night, at Sacrifice...I guess I let the bitter past rivalry between Joe and myself get in the way of remembering that there was another individual involved in our match, that being Ryan Shane. As I stood there in the ring, staring across at my old rival, I flashed back to our previous matches, the battles we had and all I could focus on was destroying Joe again, sating the blood lust that was boiling inside my veins. In doing so, I allowed Ryan to sneak in and steal the victory. Trust me when I say this, Ryan. It is a mistake that will cost you dearly if e'er we meet again.
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We return to our courtroom scene as Deathtrain reemerges from the judges chambers. He sits down in his chair, the three accused still at a loss for words. Deathtrain flashes a sinister grin and begins to give out his judgement. He holds out his hand towards the men.
Cable, Miguel and Mike. Please approach the bench and accept your fate.
With apprehension, the three move forward and stop in front of the bench.
In the case of these three assholes versus me the King, I find you all guilty of treason and, as according to the laws of the land, you will all face execution. Cable Arcane and Mike Laszlo, you both face the gallows at sunrise. Miguel...or Mike...whatever the hell your name is. I have a very special punishment for you. You will be hanged along with your comrades, but you will strung up by your smashed testicles and forced to watch as your mustache is burned from your face. Only when it is completely singed will you be allowed to die. So it is said and so it shall be done!!!!!
Deathtrain leans back in his chair and begins to cackle maniacally. The bailiff grabs the screaming prisoners and drags them back to their cells. As Deathtrain's laugh continues to echo, the entire court room bursts into flames! The walls begin to melt as smoke fills the room until everything is completely whited out. All the remains is the vile laughter of the King of Nightmares...
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We've taken a small look into the past, but lets readjust our focus and look towards the future, the next match in the Heir to the Throne series. This is not just a match for me. This is my chance to move forward in the standing, my opportunity to close the ever growing gap between myself and the one who weakened me enough for Joe Everyman to eliminate me from the Battle Royal at Bloody Assizes, Lex Sense. I am making a vow now, one I mean to keep. I will close that gap, I will eliminate my opponents on Monday night and I WILL succeed in becoming the Imperial Champion.
Mentioning my opponents.....It seems that they have all had a few words for me this week. That's all they are though. Just simple, puritan words devoid of any meaning whatsoever. If this was a battle of words, then you would surely win Cable Arcane. Good GOD you are long winded! I was sitting there, trying to listen to everything you were saying, praising each and every one of us involved in this match for the things we are good at and then turning around and explaining why you're better than us for whatever reason. Cable...it took everything I had to keep my eyes open. Your whole speech was nothing more than the same old bs we've all heard through the years about how "I'm gonna be a star," and "I want to be remembered." You are far from the first to ever make such claims, and truthfully, you won't be the last. Guys like you are a dime a dozen. Fresh, young, energetic and full of heart and spirit. That's where I come in, Cable. You see, guys like me, we are very few and far between. I'm not talking about these gothic, emo wannabes who think that black hair and a dark, brooding persona makes them evil. No, I'm talking about the truly evil ones, the heartless monsters who show no fear and no remorse. There are not many among us who can harness the darkness, become one with it and allow it to swallow us in its cold embrace. I am one of those few, Cable, it is my job to take all of the shining stars like yourself, and to suck the light out of them, to show them the harsh realities of this messed up world we live in and to send them back to whatever home they came from, broken and distraught. When I'm finished with you this Monday night, Cable, you will come to realize that you are exactly like the rest of them, a mere carbon copy of the luminaries who came before you, willpower be damned.
Mike Laszlo.....you fall into the same boat as Cable. I mean, you basically made the same statements as Cable, only in different words. Ok, so you're "focused" now. You're completely and entirely focused on furthering your career. Mike, as much as it pains me to say this..ha...no amount of "focus" is gonna change the fact that you are still the talentless waste of humanity that you were last week, and before that, and even further back. Focus doesn't make you a better performer, Mike, nor does it mean you have any right to deem yourself worthy of the Imperial Championship. Above all of that, though, no amount of focus is going to prepare you for the pain you will face if you think that you can derail me from my ride to the top of this little tournament. By the end of this match, you will be nothing more than a casualty, another bothersome stone in my path turned over and left to burn in my wake.
As for you, Machado...or Miguel...or whatever the hell you want to call yourself now. You think you can hide behind a new moniker, Mike, but the whole world knows who you are. I can see it in the way you tremble when you speak my name. Tell me, Mike? How are the twins doing? That swelling gone down yet? Seriously, I really have nothing to say to you that I haven't already said in the past. Just know that round two is going to be a LOT more painful this time around, Mike. A lot more....
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Deathtrain awakes from sleep and sits up in his bed, staring around his bedroom, the images from his dream still fresh in his mind. As his eyes begin to focus, he realizes that the whole thing was a dream, the court room, his opponents, all of it was nothing more than a dream. He shakes his head and shrugs it off, chocking it up to possibly a little too much junk food or late night corny television before bed. As he closes his eyes to return to sleep, he chuckles to himself at the thought of Mike Machado being hanged by his nutsack...........
We will start off today's proceedings with case number 133-316-666, the case of persons Cable Arcane, Mike Mach-excuse me MIGUEL Muchado and Mike Laszlo versus the King of all the realm, Deathtrain. Bailiff, please bring the accused from their cells.
The bailiff returns to the side room and comes out with the three aforementioned men, each one where brown rags and chained to one another by shackles. The bailiff marches them along and stops them in front of the bench. Deathtrain stares down at the three men as they look back with confused expressions.
Gentlemen, do you know what charges are being brought up against you?
All three men shake their heads in unison. They have no idea what is going on. The last thing any of them could remember was falling asleep and waking up in this strange situation.
Cable, Miguel and Mike....You three have been accused of acts of treason and plotting to remove your King from his throne. How do you plead?
Cable: Treason?...what? Not guilty, I guess.
Miguel: Yo no soy culpable, dude,
Mike: Pfft...whatever.
Let the record state that these three men have entered a plea of not guilty. I will take this into consideration as we take a short recess. Bailiff, keep your eye on them.
Deathtrain gets to his feet and makes his way back to his chambers, leaving the three men completely shocked and disoriented. What the hell is going on?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You know, when I decided to make my return to the world of wrestling, it was not so that I could take a backseat to all these hotshots with chips on their shoulders and something to prove. No, I came back to leave my mark, to continue the work I had started so many years ago and to cause as much suffering and unrest as I possibly could. Some would say that I've fallen short of that goal, that I've let myself believe some kind of unrealistic vision where I think I'm some kind of superior being, when in reality I'm nothing more than a mere mortal, a peasant among the gods. Now, I could sit back and listen to these detractors, these "unbelievers" and allow myself to believe what they think....OR...I could see their criticisms for what they truly are....lies. They're all lies, every last one of them, concocted to lure the masses into a false sense of security, like they have some kind of protection from the depravity I seek to unleash. I choose the latter, for within the darkness I can see the harsh truths of reality.
You all think that just by simply hiding behind all of your lies that you can escape my brutality. That is your downfall, because none of you truly realize the agony which you are about to face. None of you can comrehend the anguish, the malicious malady that is in your future. I have promised all of these things since returning and, while not yet emerging victorious in battle, I have doled out sufficient punishment enough against all who stood against me. None of my opponents have walked away without their share of scars and I intend to keep it that way in the future.
As for last Monday night, at Sacrifice...I guess I let the bitter past rivalry between Joe and myself get in the way of remembering that there was another individual involved in our match, that being Ryan Shane. As I stood there in the ring, staring across at my old rival, I flashed back to our previous matches, the battles we had and all I could focus on was destroying Joe again, sating the blood lust that was boiling inside my veins. In doing so, I allowed Ryan to sneak in and steal the victory. Trust me when I say this, Ryan. It is a mistake that will cost you dearly if e'er we meet again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We return to our courtroom scene as Deathtrain reemerges from the judges chambers. He sits down in his chair, the three accused still at a loss for words. Deathtrain flashes a sinister grin and begins to give out his judgement. He holds out his hand towards the men.
Cable, Miguel and Mike. Please approach the bench and accept your fate.
With apprehension, the three move forward and stop in front of the bench.
In the case of these three assholes versus me the King, I find you all guilty of treason and, as according to the laws of the land, you will all face execution. Cable Arcane and Mike Laszlo, you both face the gallows at sunrise. Miguel...or Mike...whatever the hell your name is. I have a very special punishment for you. You will be hanged along with your comrades, but you will strung up by your smashed testicles and forced to watch as your mustache is burned from your face. Only when it is completely singed will you be allowed to die. So it is said and so it shall be done!!!!!
Deathtrain leans back in his chair and begins to cackle maniacally. The bailiff grabs the screaming prisoners and drags them back to their cells. As Deathtrain's laugh continues to echo, the entire court room bursts into flames! The walls begin to melt as smoke fills the room until everything is completely whited out. All the remains is the vile laughter of the King of Nightmares...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We've taken a small look into the past, but lets readjust our focus and look towards the future, the next match in the Heir to the Throne series. This is not just a match for me. This is my chance to move forward in the standing, my opportunity to close the ever growing gap between myself and the one who weakened me enough for Joe Everyman to eliminate me from the Battle Royal at Bloody Assizes, Lex Sense. I am making a vow now, one I mean to keep. I will close that gap, I will eliminate my opponents on Monday night and I WILL succeed in becoming the Imperial Champion.
Mentioning my opponents.....It seems that they have all had a few words for me this week. That's all they are though. Just simple, puritan words devoid of any meaning whatsoever. If this was a battle of words, then you would surely win Cable Arcane. Good GOD you are long winded! I was sitting there, trying to listen to everything you were saying, praising each and every one of us involved in this match for the things we are good at and then turning around and explaining why you're better than us for whatever reason. Cable...it took everything I had to keep my eyes open. Your whole speech was nothing more than the same old bs we've all heard through the years about how "I'm gonna be a star," and "I want to be remembered." You are far from the first to ever make such claims, and truthfully, you won't be the last. Guys like you are a dime a dozen. Fresh, young, energetic and full of heart and spirit. That's where I come in, Cable. You see, guys like me, we are very few and far between. I'm not talking about these gothic, emo wannabes who think that black hair and a dark, brooding persona makes them evil. No, I'm talking about the truly evil ones, the heartless monsters who show no fear and no remorse. There are not many among us who can harness the darkness, become one with it and allow it to swallow us in its cold embrace. I am one of those few, Cable, it is my job to take all of the shining stars like yourself, and to suck the light out of them, to show them the harsh realities of this messed up world we live in and to send them back to whatever home they came from, broken and distraught. When I'm finished with you this Monday night, Cable, you will come to realize that you are exactly like the rest of them, a mere carbon copy of the luminaries who came before you, willpower be damned.
Mike Laszlo.....you fall into the same boat as Cable. I mean, you basically made the same statements as Cable, only in different words. Ok, so you're "focused" now. You're completely and entirely focused on furthering your career. Mike, as much as it pains me to say this..ha...no amount of "focus" is gonna change the fact that you are still the talentless waste of humanity that you were last week, and before that, and even further back. Focus doesn't make you a better performer, Mike, nor does it mean you have any right to deem yourself worthy of the Imperial Championship. Above all of that, though, no amount of focus is going to prepare you for the pain you will face if you think that you can derail me from my ride to the top of this little tournament. By the end of this match, you will be nothing more than a casualty, another bothersome stone in my path turned over and left to burn in my wake.
As for you, Machado...or Miguel...or whatever the hell you want to call yourself now. You think you can hide behind a new moniker, Mike, but the whole world knows who you are. I can see it in the way you tremble when you speak my name. Tell me, Mike? How are the twins doing? That swelling gone down yet? Seriously, I really have nothing to say to you that I haven't already said in the past. Just know that round two is going to be a LOT more painful this time around, Mike. A lot more....
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Deathtrain awakes from sleep and sits up in his bed, staring around his bedroom, the images from his dream still fresh in his mind. As his eyes begin to focus, he realizes that the whole thing was a dream, the court room, his opponents, all of it was nothing more than a dream. He shakes his head and shrugs it off, chocking it up to possibly a little too much junk food or late night corny television before bed. As he closes his eyes to return to sleep, he chuckles to himself at the thought of Mike Machado being hanged by his nutsack...........
Well howdy there pardner.