Post by Arcadia on Oct 25, 2008 4:46:58 GMT -4
The scene opens to the sounds of scraping and thumping, as if someone was dragging something out of a truck and dropping it on the ground. We are in a workshop of sorts. Really it is just someone's backyard. A large plywood board has been laid across two sawhorses to serve as a worktable. Tools and building materials are scattered about in a dysfunctional yet organized way, similar to most work yards. A woman steps onto the scene carrying a large board. She drops it on a pile of lumber and wipes her hands off. She is unrecognizable--in construction boots and a work belt, jeans and a white tee--but for one signature accessory. Her black lucha mask with its glittering silver "X" across her face. Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti leans back against the table, grabbing a flat, contractor's pencil and a razor, and begins to sharpen it.
She looks at the camera with a contemplative frown on her face as she shaves the wood and speaks, "Michael Lively. You are quickly becoming the most obstinate person I have ever met. I come back to APW ready to leave my past where it well and truly belongs...in the past. And what do I find when I get here? You! Shoving the remnants of Kenny Lambardo's once great COK down my throat at every turn. You don't seem to understand what the whole world knows. The Church is gone. Your father has forsaken you. Kenny left you like you were last night's drunken one night stand."
Arcadia sticks the newly sharpened pencil in her tool belt and walks over to the woodpile. She drags a few lengths of 2x6 boards to the table and pulls out a tape measure. With her back to the camera, she starts to measure and mark each piece, absorbed in her work but continuing her rant where she left off.
"All I wanted to do at first was give you that understanding, Lively. But like I said, you're stubborn. You fought me every step of the way, even after you couldn't win." Katrina grabs the circular saw on the table next to her and a pair of safety glasses, but her mask covers her ears and the glasses won't stay in place. She tosses them over her shoulder, narrowly missing the cameraman. The blade whirs to life and, as it touches each piece of lumber, the high-pitched whine of the spinning metal deepens with the vibration of the wood against its teeth. She finishes shortly and blows the sawdust off of her workstation, turning back to the camera.
"But then, you had to be an asshole about it. You waited until I was preoccupied with my opponents in the ring and you cost me two matches. Two! I lost my chance at the World Heavyweight Championship AND I lost to Jason Royce...Because of you!" The Hardcora Luchadora picks up the cut beams and walks them over to a large 4x4 and a pile of brackets. She lines up each piece and starts to drill them all into place with screws.
She looks up to the camera from her knees and says, "Now, you made it personal. I will settle for nothing less than the Overdrive Title. You've had it for too long, Lively. And there will be no one to serve as a distraction. Just you and I, one-on-one, where we already know I am too much for you. You are talented, no doubt, but you need a lesson in humility. And I have gladly taken up the cross of teaching it to you. Your mother wasn't able to do it, but that's okay...my methods are much more effective." Player One moves to the other side of her project and continues to secure the wood to itself. "I will give you a lesson you will never forget. You will be scarred at One Night in Hell, by yours truly. I will cause you more pain than you have ever had to deal with in your life. I will send your body through new thresholds and we will see how long you can hang on. Your life will be in my hands by the time I am through with you. You should only hope I am as merciful as you are not. I will give you a REAL reason to hate women. When I am finished, you will cringe at the sight of me. You will become nauseous with fear at the smell of my perfume. Your skin will crawl in horror at the touch of my nails. Your body will shudder at the mere mention of my name. And the metallic taste of your own terror will be on your tongue every time you think of Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti."
Katrina stood up and brushed her hands off. "Your time has come, self-proclaimed Jesus. Tonight, I will make you a true G-d. If you walk away from this, indeed if you ever walk again...We will see. If you have finally learned what a true deity is and that you are not up to par...We will know beyond a shadow of a doubt. Survive me and learn your lesson, or perish in the fires of Hell where a pretender belongs. You have brought this upon yourself, Michael. And if it was not me, it would have been someone less forgiving to teach you this lesson. I am honored to be the one to show you where you went wrong, though. And you should be honored that your opponent is a worthy one. You will soon be seeing that title belt where it properly belongs...Around my waist."
Arcadia checks her watch and says, “Incidentally, you should be getting a present from me right about now…After all, I had to repay you for my lovely new PSP you so thoughtfully bought me.”
The camera cuts out and flashes over to another feed, this one belonging to the Blackwells’ personal cameraman, Emrys. The rather large Irish Hammer has his muscular back leaned against a wall in the backstage area of the Tokyo Dome. His sidekick, Lil Dick, as always, accompanies the Human Wrecking Machine. The two seem to be conversing about Sabur's match later in the chamber. After a phone rings a few times, the man beast interrupts his Lil Dick's story, and answers his phone.
“What up...yeah I'm back here chilling out for a bit...sure man I can do what ever you need...Yep I saw him about five minutes ago...he walked be me and Dick...Got it.”
The large man folds his phone up and hands it to Lil Dick. The midget takes the phone, realizing something physical must be in the making for the big man to hand over his phone. The two walk down the hall, Sabur finding his target. There he was, standing there with his mother as usual. Sabur walks over and taps the self-proclaimed Hottest Shit Going on the shoulder.
Lively turns around, and before he can speak, The Genetic Powerhouse cut's him off. “Listen Mike...I know we don't get along, and your probably thinking about what you will be doing after you destroy Arcadia once and for all…but-“
The arrogant-as-ever Jesus cuts him off, “Your damn straight! You seem to be getting a little wiser, Sabur…Have you reduced your testosterone intake?”
“Actually,” Sabur answers, “I'm coming off one hell of a cycle to get ready for this chamber match… Anyway, why I am here...My gardener is a huge Jesus mark...he loves you, and asked me if you could sign something for him, I told him I would see...I know our history is a little rough, but, hey, it's worth a shot.”
“A Jesus mark? He works for you, but marks out for ME! Yeah, I'll sign it.”
Sabur pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Lively. The Human Wrecking Machine then pulls out a pen, accidentally dropping it to the ground. “My bad, let me get the pen for the Jesus.” Sabur bends down to grab the pen but quickly hoist's Michael Lively onto his shoulders. The Irish Hammer rapidly whips the Jesus around and down with a House of Pain. Sabur rolls over and up to one knee, driving his large fist into the face of Lively a few times.
The big man beast looks over toward Lively's mother and states, “It has to be done Terri...there is nothing you can do.”
She nods to The Powerhouse. Sabur stands, grabbing the White Lion by his hair and dragging him down the hall and off camera.
The camera flashes back to Katrina Olivetti, who we find sitting on her worktable taking a lunch break. She reaches into her McLively’s bag and pulls out a Holy Meal double cheeseburger and fries, Jesus-sized. She licks her lips and takes a big bite, chewing with a look of bliss on her face.
The cameraman clears his throat from behind the equipment and makes a noise, “Umm…”
Arcadia jumps and looks up at the camera, looking guilty and surprised. She frowns furiously and yells, “What? It’s research! Know your enemy, and all…” At another look from the cameraman, she throws a French Fry and says defensively, “Shut up.”
The cameraman turns to the back of the van where the Hardcora Luchadora has moved her project. The camera fades out on a view of a twelve-foot high, wooden, letter “K”.
She looks at the camera with a contemplative frown on her face as she shaves the wood and speaks, "Michael Lively. You are quickly becoming the most obstinate person I have ever met. I come back to APW ready to leave my past where it well and truly belongs...in the past. And what do I find when I get here? You! Shoving the remnants of Kenny Lambardo's once great COK down my throat at every turn. You don't seem to understand what the whole world knows. The Church is gone. Your father has forsaken you. Kenny left you like you were last night's drunken one night stand."
Arcadia sticks the newly sharpened pencil in her tool belt and walks over to the woodpile. She drags a few lengths of 2x6 boards to the table and pulls out a tape measure. With her back to the camera, she starts to measure and mark each piece, absorbed in her work but continuing her rant where she left off.
"All I wanted to do at first was give you that understanding, Lively. But like I said, you're stubborn. You fought me every step of the way, even after you couldn't win." Katrina grabs the circular saw on the table next to her and a pair of safety glasses, but her mask covers her ears and the glasses won't stay in place. She tosses them over her shoulder, narrowly missing the cameraman. The blade whirs to life and, as it touches each piece of lumber, the high-pitched whine of the spinning metal deepens with the vibration of the wood against its teeth. She finishes shortly and blows the sawdust off of her workstation, turning back to the camera.
"But then, you had to be an asshole about it. You waited until I was preoccupied with my opponents in the ring and you cost me two matches. Two! I lost my chance at the World Heavyweight Championship AND I lost to Jason Royce...Because of you!" The Hardcora Luchadora picks up the cut beams and walks them over to a large 4x4 and a pile of brackets. She lines up each piece and starts to drill them all into place with screws.
She looks up to the camera from her knees and says, "Now, you made it personal. I will settle for nothing less than the Overdrive Title. You've had it for too long, Lively. And there will be no one to serve as a distraction. Just you and I, one-on-one, where we already know I am too much for you. You are talented, no doubt, but you need a lesson in humility. And I have gladly taken up the cross of teaching it to you. Your mother wasn't able to do it, but that's okay...my methods are much more effective." Player One moves to the other side of her project and continues to secure the wood to itself. "I will give you a lesson you will never forget. You will be scarred at One Night in Hell, by yours truly. I will cause you more pain than you have ever had to deal with in your life. I will send your body through new thresholds and we will see how long you can hang on. Your life will be in my hands by the time I am through with you. You should only hope I am as merciful as you are not. I will give you a REAL reason to hate women. When I am finished, you will cringe at the sight of me. You will become nauseous with fear at the smell of my perfume. Your skin will crawl in horror at the touch of my nails. Your body will shudder at the mere mention of my name. And the metallic taste of your own terror will be on your tongue every time you think of Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti."
Katrina stood up and brushed her hands off. "Your time has come, self-proclaimed Jesus. Tonight, I will make you a true G-d. If you walk away from this, indeed if you ever walk again...We will see. If you have finally learned what a true deity is and that you are not up to par...We will know beyond a shadow of a doubt. Survive me and learn your lesson, or perish in the fires of Hell where a pretender belongs. You have brought this upon yourself, Michael. And if it was not me, it would have been someone less forgiving to teach you this lesson. I am honored to be the one to show you where you went wrong, though. And you should be honored that your opponent is a worthy one. You will soon be seeing that title belt where it properly belongs...Around my waist."
Arcadia checks her watch and says, “Incidentally, you should be getting a present from me right about now…After all, I had to repay you for my lovely new PSP you so thoughtfully bought me.”
The camera cuts out and flashes over to another feed, this one belonging to the Blackwells’ personal cameraman, Emrys. The rather large Irish Hammer has his muscular back leaned against a wall in the backstage area of the Tokyo Dome. His sidekick, Lil Dick, as always, accompanies the Human Wrecking Machine. The two seem to be conversing about Sabur's match later in the chamber. After a phone rings a few times, the man beast interrupts his Lil Dick's story, and answers his phone.
“What up...yeah I'm back here chilling out for a bit...sure man I can do what ever you need...Yep I saw him about five minutes ago...he walked be me and Dick...Got it.”
The large man folds his phone up and hands it to Lil Dick. The midget takes the phone, realizing something physical must be in the making for the big man to hand over his phone. The two walk down the hall, Sabur finding his target. There he was, standing there with his mother as usual. Sabur walks over and taps the self-proclaimed Hottest Shit Going on the shoulder.
Lively turns around, and before he can speak, The Genetic Powerhouse cut's him off. “Listen Mike...I know we don't get along, and your probably thinking about what you will be doing after you destroy Arcadia once and for all…but-“
The arrogant-as-ever Jesus cuts him off, “Your damn straight! You seem to be getting a little wiser, Sabur…Have you reduced your testosterone intake?”
“Actually,” Sabur answers, “I'm coming off one hell of a cycle to get ready for this chamber match… Anyway, why I am here...My gardener is a huge Jesus mark...he loves you, and asked me if you could sign something for him, I told him I would see...I know our history is a little rough, but, hey, it's worth a shot.”
“A Jesus mark? He works for you, but marks out for ME! Yeah, I'll sign it.”
Sabur pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Lively. The Human Wrecking Machine then pulls out a pen, accidentally dropping it to the ground. “My bad, let me get the pen for the Jesus.” Sabur bends down to grab the pen but quickly hoist's Michael Lively onto his shoulders. The Irish Hammer rapidly whips the Jesus around and down with a House of Pain. Sabur rolls over and up to one knee, driving his large fist into the face of Lively a few times.
The big man beast looks over toward Lively's mother and states, “It has to be done Terri...there is nothing you can do.”
She nods to The Powerhouse. Sabur stands, grabbing the White Lion by his hair and dragging him down the hall and off camera.
The camera flashes back to Katrina Olivetti, who we find sitting on her worktable taking a lunch break. She reaches into her McLively’s bag and pulls out a Holy Meal double cheeseburger and fries, Jesus-sized. She licks her lips and takes a big bite, chewing with a look of bliss on her face.
The cameraman clears his throat from behind the equipment and makes a noise, “Umm…”
Arcadia jumps and looks up at the camera, looking guilty and surprised. She frowns furiously and yells, “What? It’s research! Know your enemy, and all…” At another look from the cameraman, she throws a French Fry and says defensively, “Shut up.”
The cameraman turns to the back of the van where the Hardcora Luchadora has moved her project. The camera fades out on a view of a twelve-foot high, wooden, letter “K”.
