Post by Evan De Parker on Feb 13, 2013 21:59:31 GMT -4
”They want me to face Terry. And in theory, it’s the greatest thing that could ever happen to me. I don’t need to run down the accolades because you know them already...
“You don’t know them?; he’ll tell you. He’s the greatest, and he’s shown that. He’s proved it and he’s earned that title.
“Some would call me arrogant, because I refer to myself as a MegaMegaStar and present myself as a league above the others. Some would call it a gimmick, and I’d tell them that they’re wrong. There’s no act, and there’s no charade. I am exactly what I say I am-- exactly what I’ve proven myself to be since the November of last year, and one mistake doesn’t change that.
“One fuck-up doesn’t change the fact that all this will be mine one day.
“I’m going to change things one day. Everything.”
With intensity, he watches.
Evan watches from behind the wheel of his BMW 760Li, his right hand gripping the wheel periodically, every few seconds as a small part of him considers throwing the car into gear and pulling away.
With intensity, he watches, as eleven-year-old Chastity Weaver screams at her father, a man who dwarfs even Evan in comparison. He thrusts a finger into the chest of his little girl. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so Evan could see his dozens of tattoos, leaving barely any visible flesh on his-- if you asked Evan-- “ghost” white body.
”Military man. Hah, alriiiiight, hard-ass. Keep screaming at the kid...”
Evan reaches into his center console, retrieving what he’d tell you until his last breath was a cigarette-- if you asked him. He places it between his lips, sparking the end of it and raises his eyes back to the window.
”Ugh. Come on, dude. Hurry it up.”
Mr. Weaver screams down at Chastity, who won’t relent. Her face is red as she screams back, her blonde hair flying in every-which-way. Evan sighs, shaking his head, taking a drag from the faux-cigarette.
For months, Evan has been traveling to Annapolis, Maryland, at least once a week to rescue this kid-- his girlfriend’s niece-- from being caught in the middle of her parents’ hectic, busy schedule. For months, she had ridiculed Evan for his choices both inside and outside of the world of wrestling. For months, they were at each others’ throats. He bitched and he moaned about the responsibilities attached to this eleven-year-old, but all the same, he was comforted by it.
”Finally...”
Evan takes one final drag from his-- again, what he’d claim to be-- cigarette. He snubs the filter on the asphalt outside of his door and flicks it toward the storm drain.
”GET THE FUCK OUT! Do you know how many other parents would put up with your SHIT?! Zero!”
Evan curiously raises his eyes toward the front of the house where Mr. Mitchell Weaver tosses Chastity her bag from the doorway. She immediately pulls it off of the ground, shoving loose belongings back into it as she pivots and marches toward Evan’s car.
”By the way, any twenty-four year old man that voluntarily hangs out with an eleven-year-old is creepy. I don’t care if you’re dating my sister, buddy! I DON’T CARE IF YOU WRESTLE!”
Evan smirks and closes his door, rolling his window down.
”You’re drunk, Mitch. Go back inside before you bruise your ego.”
”Why don’t you step out of the car so I can bruise your fuckin’ FACE!”
”That’s lookin’ like a no-go, Mitch.”
Chastity throws her bag into the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat of Evan’s car, crossing her arms in frustration. Evan casts one final look at her father who stands, displaying his best take on “menacing” on his porch. Evan rolls his eyes, extending a single, central finger before rolling up the window, throwing the car into gear, and pulling away.
”So... What was that about?”
”Doesn’t matter.”
”What’s that, kid? A chink in the armor?”
”Stop.”
”Trouble in paradise?”
”Please, cut it out.”
”Because if there’s something about you that makes you vulnerable then I--”
Chastity reaches over and jerks the wheel of the car. Evan slams his foot on the brake in panic and the car stalls, grunting to a halt. He slams his foot on the clutch and throws up his brake at the stop sign near the hill’s crest, glaring at Chastity. All of his humor has disappeared.
”What the--?!”
”I don’t wanna talk about it.”
”...Chastity, seriously, if you need--”
”I don’t want to fucking talk about it!”
”FINE, fine... We won’t. If you don’t want to-- we won’t.”
Evan looks into the rearview mirror at the empty street and then back at Chastity, but she’s already turned her attention to the outside world; anything to avoid having to socialize, one would guess.
The two sit in silence for a moment and Evan casts a gaze upon her waiting for seconds for her to change her mind. Seconds for her to turn her gaze away from the window and look at him again...
It doesn’t happen. He nods after what’s become nearly a minute and releases the brake, pulling out onto the road.
We fade to black as Envi prepares to engage in what will become forty-five minutes of silence.
”Ya know, I-- I get that it doesn’t have that much to do with this match, or Terry Marvin, but I... I was thinking today that if I can’t even help an eleven-year-old kid not feel like shit, then how am I supposed to get my career off the ground? How am I supposed to convince millions of people that they should care about me years from now... If I can’t even drag a conversation out of a damn child that might as well be family.
I mean...”
We fade into color as Evan Envi sits before the camera in a white-painted room, his legs crossed before him. The room lacks furniture and our location is unclear.
”Terry was able to convince thousands-- possibly hundreds of thousands people that he was hanging up his boots for good and on a whim, he flipped the switch and he went right back to being the most hated man in all of wrestling. And it’s not the first time he’s done something like it... The man has charisma. He has passion.
“A lot of the emotion and influence Terry has is a result of his success and I’ll admit that. To gain influence, you gain power. To gain power, you eliminate those that are in power. CJ Gates did it to Biggs. Kurt Noble did it to CJ Gates. Terry did it to Kurt.”
Evan’s face softens and he cracks a smile.
”It’s a vicious, vicious cycle, Terry, but like great champions before you... You’ll fall, and it’ll be a big, big deal when you do because it won’t be just your body that’s broken, nor your championship reign, but an entire era will be brought to a screeching, horrifying, violent HALT!
“The fortunate thing about the death of Showtime is that it’ll be a spectacular event, and the house Marvin built will burn down in the brightest, most BRILLIANT fucking flames you’ve ever witnessed! Because of what you’ve done, your legacy will outlive you.
“And because of what you’ve done... Whoever puts you down will go down in history as one of the most dangerous men in the world.
“What can I say? You’re the gift that keeps on giving. I guess the question is: Did I come to collect?
“And I’m not claiming to be after your title. You and I-- we both know where my interests lie right now, but don’t think for a single second that I’ve got a difficult time understanding exactly what kind of feat this would be. I’ve always worked by your side, whether I’ve liked it or not, and I’ve always done things your way. I’ve always done things by your rules... Whether I’ve liked it or not.
“Difference this time is that I’m not on your side of the ring. I’m not looking out for you... And if there’s a miscalculation or accident out there in the ring, then I leave you with nothing more than an ‘L’ for your record book and a ‘shit happens’ before I disappear behind those curtains, Terry, because I couldn’t care less what happens to you.
“I’ve watched every single competitor that you’ve come across completely trip over themselves trying to defeat you and they’ve failed. Every single one of them has failed-- and I can’t promise that I’ll be the one to end that streak come Thursday night, but I can guarantee, by the time our match is over you will feel one hundred percent...
…Mortal.”
Evan takes a deep breath as he says this, his eyes closing for a moment. He shoots a look at something out of frame, even narrowing his eyes to adjust a glance at whatever it is that he sees. After a few seconds, he moves his eyes back toward the lens.
”It might’ve taken me a little bit of time, but I think I figured out what made you so successful in the first place. I dare say that it’s your sheer ability to bullshit people. While you very well could be the greatest champion Action Packed Wrestling has ever seen, it could all be another facade. Another lie. Another example of pulling the wool over our eyes.
“You convinced the world that you’d always been the victim of circumstance, and you spent your career being misunderstood. So for three months, you had these people cheering you, hanging on your every word. You eliminated the big, bad villain in Noble and you gave them their hero. You gave these people their good guy! You coerced them into pumping millions into the machine, and in return, the machine made you a God.
“...And then you took it away from them. You took away everything that they thought they HAD as a hero in APW after Kurt Noble was exposed as the mortal that you-- that you very well may not be.
“You took down Biggs, after these people ran to him, hoping and praying that he would fill the void that you and Kurt left behind. But Biggs walked away with nothing. They walked away with nothing.
“So they ran to Sally Talfourd at Survive & Conquer. She fought hard, and she fought valiantly, but by the end of the night, she could barely walk out of that arena on her own two feet. Sally hasn’t returned to APW, and you sent her away with nothing. These people were once again, left without a hero.
“You left them with nothing.
“And now they’re back to CJ. Nothing else seemed to work-- so they’ve turned CJ into their white knight and it’s a role that he’s slipped into quite handsomely. Like Noble, like Biggs, and like Sally, Gates is going to do his best to take you out, and if he does it-- he’ll do it for good.
“I don’t need to tell you how that story ends though. We all know...”
Once more, his eyes raise to meet something that the cameras can’t quite detect and a chuckle rolls out of his mouth. He angles his gaze to the lens and smiles again.
”These people? They’re gonna need a hero.”
He folds his hands and his gaze becomes more thoughtful, and more serious as he looks toward the ground. His features harden for a few seconds and he quickly, attentively looks back toward the lens... Back toward the Undisputed Champion, Terry Marvin.
”I’m not the best example. I don’t set the greatest path to be followed, but if there’s one thing I know about these people, it’s that they’ll take anyone and turn them into their own personal savior if it means that there’s a chance that you’ll go away.
“And THAT is how you stay on top. Even when every single person in those stands turns their back on you, they’re still throwing money right back into the machine to see the locker room line up just to attempt to take you out. It goes beyond the people wanting the Undisputed Championship off of you-- it’s to the point where people that you’ve never even met won’t be satisfied until they see your head on a stick.
“I’ll bring it to them.”
He smirks and pushes himself up to a standing position, pulling the camcorder off of its tripod as he does so.
”Me and them-- we don’t ask each other for too much, but I’ll give them that.”
As Evan turns, making his way out of the room, we can recognize his house as the two-story, single-family Baltimore home that we’ve been invited into many times in the past. He steps out into the hallway, and the muffled, scattered sounds of the living room’s television echo softly through the halls.
”I’m not the good guy, but I’ll be heralded as a saint by giving the people what they want-- and that’s seeing the mortalization of the man that, for more than half of a year, has been unstoppable.
“They want to see that you’re tangible and touchable. They want to see that Gods bleed just like men. These people need to see that even the greatest can he topped.
“...And they need to see me do it. Mark Mania needs to see me do it.
“APW has never been in greater need of a person that they can look to with hope... And admiration...”
As we move through the house, Evan comes to a stop. He gently sets the camera down, and whether on purpose or not, we are left with a shot of his living room couch, where eleven-year-old Chastity Weaver has fallen asleep. Homework, in its completed form is scattered in front of the couch, right next to the television’s remote. Evan steps out of frame for a few seconds, returning with a blanket. He throws it over the girl, from neck to toes, and finally scoops the remote off of the ground, snapping the television off.
He sighs, looking down at the sleeping child with a faint smile.
Darkness.
”I meant it when I said I was going to change things one day.
“I meant it when I said I’d change everything.
“I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, and I don’t know when it’s gonna start, but when it does... It’ll be beautiful. Imagine it. Imagine-- an inferno. Hundreds of feet high. But the people-- they aren't running. They're dancing. Rejoicing.
"Imagine parades marching through the city. Imagine the pandemonium.
"...And I'll be their hero. They'll make me their hero. They'll make me everything.
"You'll make me everything.
"Imagine it."
“You don’t know them?; he’ll tell you. He’s the greatest, and he’s shown that. He’s proved it and he’s earned that title.
“Some would call me arrogant, because I refer to myself as a MegaMegaStar and present myself as a league above the others. Some would call it a gimmick, and I’d tell them that they’re wrong. There’s no act, and there’s no charade. I am exactly what I say I am-- exactly what I’ve proven myself to be since the November of last year, and one mistake doesn’t change that.
“One fuck-up doesn’t change the fact that all this will be mine one day.
“I’m going to change things one day. Everything.”
With intensity, he watches.
Evan watches from behind the wheel of his BMW 760Li, his right hand gripping the wheel periodically, every few seconds as a small part of him considers throwing the car into gear and pulling away.
With intensity, he watches, as eleven-year-old Chastity Weaver screams at her father, a man who dwarfs even Evan in comparison. He thrusts a finger into the chest of his little girl. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so Evan could see his dozens of tattoos, leaving barely any visible flesh on his-- if you asked Evan-- “ghost” white body.
”Military man. Hah, alriiiiight, hard-ass. Keep screaming at the kid...”
Evan reaches into his center console, retrieving what he’d tell you until his last breath was a cigarette-- if you asked him. He places it between his lips, sparking the end of it and raises his eyes back to the window.
”Ugh. Come on, dude. Hurry it up.”
Mr. Weaver screams down at Chastity, who won’t relent. Her face is red as she screams back, her blonde hair flying in every-which-way. Evan sighs, shaking his head, taking a drag from the faux-cigarette.
For months, Evan has been traveling to Annapolis, Maryland, at least once a week to rescue this kid-- his girlfriend’s niece-- from being caught in the middle of her parents’ hectic, busy schedule. For months, she had ridiculed Evan for his choices both inside and outside of the world of wrestling. For months, they were at each others’ throats. He bitched and he moaned about the responsibilities attached to this eleven-year-old, but all the same, he was comforted by it.
”Finally...”
Evan takes one final drag from his-- again, what he’d claim to be-- cigarette. He snubs the filter on the asphalt outside of his door and flicks it toward the storm drain.
”GET THE FUCK OUT! Do you know how many other parents would put up with your SHIT?! Zero!”
Evan curiously raises his eyes toward the front of the house where Mr. Mitchell Weaver tosses Chastity her bag from the doorway. She immediately pulls it off of the ground, shoving loose belongings back into it as she pivots and marches toward Evan’s car.
”By the way, any twenty-four year old man that voluntarily hangs out with an eleven-year-old is creepy. I don’t care if you’re dating my sister, buddy! I DON’T CARE IF YOU WRESTLE!”
Evan smirks and closes his door, rolling his window down.
”You’re drunk, Mitch. Go back inside before you bruise your ego.”
”Why don’t you step out of the car so I can bruise your fuckin’ FACE!”
”That’s lookin’ like a no-go, Mitch.”
Chastity throws her bag into the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat of Evan’s car, crossing her arms in frustration. Evan casts one final look at her father who stands, displaying his best take on “menacing” on his porch. Evan rolls his eyes, extending a single, central finger before rolling up the window, throwing the car into gear, and pulling away.
”So... What was that about?”
”Doesn’t matter.”
”What’s that, kid? A chink in the armor?”
”Stop.”
”Trouble in paradise?”
”Please, cut it out.”
”Because if there’s something about you that makes you vulnerable then I--”
Chastity reaches over and jerks the wheel of the car. Evan slams his foot on the brake in panic and the car stalls, grunting to a halt. He slams his foot on the clutch and throws up his brake at the stop sign near the hill’s crest, glaring at Chastity. All of his humor has disappeared.
”What the--?!”
”I don’t wanna talk about it.”
”...Chastity, seriously, if you need--”
”I don’t want to fucking talk about it!”
”FINE, fine... We won’t. If you don’t want to-- we won’t.”
Evan looks into the rearview mirror at the empty street and then back at Chastity, but she’s already turned her attention to the outside world; anything to avoid having to socialize, one would guess.
The two sit in silence for a moment and Evan casts a gaze upon her waiting for seconds for her to change her mind. Seconds for her to turn her gaze away from the window and look at him again...
It doesn’t happen. He nods after what’s become nearly a minute and releases the brake, pulling out onto the road.
We fade to black as Envi prepares to engage in what will become forty-five minutes of silence.
”Ya know, I-- I get that it doesn’t have that much to do with this match, or Terry Marvin, but I... I was thinking today that if I can’t even help an eleven-year-old kid not feel like shit, then how am I supposed to get my career off the ground? How am I supposed to convince millions of people that they should care about me years from now... If I can’t even drag a conversation out of a damn child that might as well be family.
I mean...”
We fade into color as Evan Envi sits before the camera in a white-painted room, his legs crossed before him. The room lacks furniture and our location is unclear.
”Terry was able to convince thousands-- possibly hundreds of thousands people that he was hanging up his boots for good and on a whim, he flipped the switch and he went right back to being the most hated man in all of wrestling. And it’s not the first time he’s done something like it... The man has charisma. He has passion.
“A lot of the emotion and influence Terry has is a result of his success and I’ll admit that. To gain influence, you gain power. To gain power, you eliminate those that are in power. CJ Gates did it to Biggs. Kurt Noble did it to CJ Gates. Terry did it to Kurt.”
Evan’s face softens and he cracks a smile.
”It’s a vicious, vicious cycle, Terry, but like great champions before you... You’ll fall, and it’ll be a big, big deal when you do because it won’t be just your body that’s broken, nor your championship reign, but an entire era will be brought to a screeching, horrifying, violent HALT!
“The fortunate thing about the death of Showtime is that it’ll be a spectacular event, and the house Marvin built will burn down in the brightest, most BRILLIANT fucking flames you’ve ever witnessed! Because of what you’ve done, your legacy will outlive you.
“And because of what you’ve done... Whoever puts you down will go down in history as one of the most dangerous men in the world.
“What can I say? You’re the gift that keeps on giving. I guess the question is: Did I come to collect?
“And I’m not claiming to be after your title. You and I-- we both know where my interests lie right now, but don’t think for a single second that I’ve got a difficult time understanding exactly what kind of feat this would be. I’ve always worked by your side, whether I’ve liked it or not, and I’ve always done things your way. I’ve always done things by your rules... Whether I’ve liked it or not.
“Difference this time is that I’m not on your side of the ring. I’m not looking out for you... And if there’s a miscalculation or accident out there in the ring, then I leave you with nothing more than an ‘L’ for your record book and a ‘shit happens’ before I disappear behind those curtains, Terry, because I couldn’t care less what happens to you.
“I’ve watched every single competitor that you’ve come across completely trip over themselves trying to defeat you and they’ve failed. Every single one of them has failed-- and I can’t promise that I’ll be the one to end that streak come Thursday night, but I can guarantee, by the time our match is over you will feel one hundred percent...
…Mortal.”
Evan takes a deep breath as he says this, his eyes closing for a moment. He shoots a look at something out of frame, even narrowing his eyes to adjust a glance at whatever it is that he sees. After a few seconds, he moves his eyes back toward the lens.
”It might’ve taken me a little bit of time, but I think I figured out what made you so successful in the first place. I dare say that it’s your sheer ability to bullshit people. While you very well could be the greatest champion Action Packed Wrestling has ever seen, it could all be another facade. Another lie. Another example of pulling the wool over our eyes.
“You convinced the world that you’d always been the victim of circumstance, and you spent your career being misunderstood. So for three months, you had these people cheering you, hanging on your every word. You eliminated the big, bad villain in Noble and you gave them their hero. You gave these people their good guy! You coerced them into pumping millions into the machine, and in return, the machine made you a God.
“...And then you took it away from them. You took away everything that they thought they HAD as a hero in APW after Kurt Noble was exposed as the mortal that you-- that you very well may not be.
“You took down Biggs, after these people ran to him, hoping and praying that he would fill the void that you and Kurt left behind. But Biggs walked away with nothing. They walked away with nothing.
“So they ran to Sally Talfourd at Survive & Conquer. She fought hard, and she fought valiantly, but by the end of the night, she could barely walk out of that arena on her own two feet. Sally hasn’t returned to APW, and you sent her away with nothing. These people were once again, left without a hero.
“You left them with nothing.
“And now they’re back to CJ. Nothing else seemed to work-- so they’ve turned CJ into their white knight and it’s a role that he’s slipped into quite handsomely. Like Noble, like Biggs, and like Sally, Gates is going to do his best to take you out, and if he does it-- he’ll do it for good.
“I don’t need to tell you how that story ends though. We all know...”
Once more, his eyes raise to meet something that the cameras can’t quite detect and a chuckle rolls out of his mouth. He angles his gaze to the lens and smiles again.
”These people? They’re gonna need a hero.”
He folds his hands and his gaze becomes more thoughtful, and more serious as he looks toward the ground. His features harden for a few seconds and he quickly, attentively looks back toward the lens... Back toward the Undisputed Champion, Terry Marvin.
”I’m not the best example. I don’t set the greatest path to be followed, but if there’s one thing I know about these people, it’s that they’ll take anyone and turn them into their own personal savior if it means that there’s a chance that you’ll go away.
“And THAT is how you stay on top. Even when every single person in those stands turns their back on you, they’re still throwing money right back into the machine to see the locker room line up just to attempt to take you out. It goes beyond the people wanting the Undisputed Championship off of you-- it’s to the point where people that you’ve never even met won’t be satisfied until they see your head on a stick.
“I’ll bring it to them.”
He smirks and pushes himself up to a standing position, pulling the camcorder off of its tripod as he does so.
”Me and them-- we don’t ask each other for too much, but I’ll give them that.”
As Evan turns, making his way out of the room, we can recognize his house as the two-story, single-family Baltimore home that we’ve been invited into many times in the past. He steps out into the hallway, and the muffled, scattered sounds of the living room’s television echo softly through the halls.
”I’m not the good guy, but I’ll be heralded as a saint by giving the people what they want-- and that’s seeing the mortalization of the man that, for more than half of a year, has been unstoppable.
“They want to see that you’re tangible and touchable. They want to see that Gods bleed just like men. These people need to see that even the greatest can he topped.
“...And they need to see me do it. Mark Mania needs to see me do it.
“APW has never been in greater need of a person that they can look to with hope... And admiration...”
As we move through the house, Evan comes to a stop. He gently sets the camera down, and whether on purpose or not, we are left with a shot of his living room couch, where eleven-year-old Chastity Weaver has fallen asleep. Homework, in its completed form is scattered in front of the couch, right next to the television’s remote. Evan steps out of frame for a few seconds, returning with a blanket. He throws it over the girl, from neck to toes, and finally scoops the remote off of the ground, snapping the television off.
He sighs, looking down at the sleeping child with a faint smile.
Darkness.
”I meant it when I said I was going to change things one day.
“I meant it when I said I’d change everything.
“I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, and I don’t know when it’s gonna start, but when it does... It’ll be beautiful. Imagine it. Imagine-- an inferno. Hundreds of feet high. But the people-- they aren't running. They're dancing. Rejoicing.
"Imagine parades marching through the city. Imagine the pandemonium.
"...And I'll be their hero. They'll make me their hero. They'll make me everything.
"You'll make me everything.
"Imagine it."
