Post by Matt Weatherlight on Apr 10, 2011 17:42:21 GMT -4
*Madok's Bed-Room, The Following Morning*
The scene re-opens on Madok's bed room which to be honest is rather well decorated and put together. Nothing is out of place and nothing looks to be worth less than a hundred dollars in the room as apparently Madok has spared no expense in making the bed-room relaxing and comfortable. The camera pans over to the large king sized bed which is in shambles, sheets lay discarded on the floor, the quilt is thrown to the side, and pillows lay discarded in random locations. It must have been a wild night, a night that left Madok alone in his bed looking up at the ceiling with a rather large grin on his face.
"She really knows her way around the bedroom."
He says to himself as he sits up from his prone position to look around the room. He itches his head and then stands up, walking over to the bathroom to take his morning shower in his twenty thousand dollar bathroom. After a few minutes of silent washing, Madok emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He looks around the room one more time and then itches his chin, clearly unsure as to where Nicky has run off to. He shrugs his shoulders and then begins to get dressed in front of the camera. He chuckles to himself as he turns to see the camera on.
"It appears I am giving the fans a peep show...take it in ladies."
He finishes dressing quickly and then makes his way over to the camera which he picks up and begins to walk out the door with. He does a pan around his penthouse room in New York.
"This is how you wisely spend your cash. No yachts, no fancy smancy bull shit like gourmet food, and above all else no fucking strippers."
Madok walks down the stairs giving the people at home an eyeful of the New York sky line, he pauses in front of the window, and looks out it. He itches his head again and then continues on to the kitchen to see what his chef is cooking today. The chef is so busy he doesn't notice Madok walk in and take a quick look around.
"This is my kitchen, simple, and elegant."
The chef jumps as he hears Madok's voice and turns around holding his chest.
"Jeeze! Sir, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Sorry about that, Benjamen. Just showing the fans around the apartment."
"Very good, sir. Should I bring your breakfast to the table with the morning paper?"
"Yes. Oh and what exactly is for breakfast this morning, Benjamen?"
Benjamen steps aside to reveal an omelet with an assortment of vegetables and meats in it. Madok lets out a satisfied sigh as he smells the delicious cuisine being cooked on the oven.
"Another great breakfast, Benjamen."
"Thank you, sir."
Madok goes to leave the kitchen, but as he opens the door, he turns around, and then with a questioning glance speaks up.
"Have you seen Nicky, Benjamen?"
"Not since this morning, sir. She said she would not be eating breakfast here and that she had some matters to attend to."
"Alright, but she is missing out."
Madok nods his head as he turns back around and steps out into the kitchen area which is prepared for a dining party of one for now. Madok sits down and waits patiently for his meal to be done and after about a minute or two, Benjamen emerges from the kitchen carrying a plate in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
"Here you go, sir."
Benjamen puts the plate and the newspaper down and Madok lifts the lid himself to take a look at the perfect omelet on his plate. He grins and then turns to Benjamen.
"You have out-done yourself again. Take the rest of the day off."
"Thank you, sir."
Benjamen needs no other prodding to begin to leave to head to his home across the hall. Even Madok's entourage of workers have their very own sweets. Truly it pays to work for a billionaire. Madok doesn't hesitate to take a bite of his omelet and lets out a sigh of delight as he puts the fork down and opens the paper.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, it is me...your beloved Cloud Chaser here in the early morning to let you know that you too can live a life like this. Sure...it will take a lot of effort, but know that in the end. Anything is possible. Just like what is going to happen tonight for instance. Tonight, my team and I, go in to do what some think will be an impossible task. The task is simply put to usurp those that are deemed as being nuisances on our perfect APW because lets face it, that is exactly what Dangertainment is. Dangertainment has made its' buck off of fucking, punching, and nuking anything creative in this world of ours and I am sick and tired of it. Quite honestly to the point where I feel that I may have to shed the skin of the civilized folk of the upper class and become more like the dirty and underprivileged members of their very own circle.
You see, Dangertainment is the epicenter of what can go wrong with a civilization, they embody the problems of our decaying neighborhoods around the world, and embrace it with open arms. They embrace ignorance, greed, and addiction and they use this to fuel their war machines to lead their followers to the next Dark Ages of civilization. Sure, they are talented, but their talent comes from a much darker place than the common man. Their talent comes from the necessity of survival. Take J.T. Kash for instance. This man is by far the lowest of the low, an abuser of an illegal substance, which by my recollection is against all the codes of conduct in wrestling entertainment, but that is neither here nor there. His talents have come from the need to survive. Quite honestly we all know that there are many different types of abusers in this world, but Kash strikes me as a man who had a rough life and had to develop his talents to survive in his harsh environment. Most likely he had a horrible father figure and his mother was addicted to crack. Quite a possibility, nothing is beyond the grasp of my imagination, but I digress. What I am getting at is that the man clearly has not a piece of wit in him or a brain cell left in his head. The man relies solely on his in-ring ability and that my friends is a huge flaw, much like a flaw in a nearly perfect painting, it is hard to see, but when you see it, you know it is not worth your interest.
As for Bishop, well it is hard to say where this fellow simply fits in to the grand scheme of things for dangertainement. Sure his role in the group is easy to see...he is the retarded puppy that the group who gets pats on the back so that he can feel like he is important. Everyone has one...for our group it is Benny, mind you he is not half as dumb as Bishop. Oh, no. Bishop takes the cake on mental retardation. I'm sure it is genetic, it would make sense because he seems to think it is okay to act like a fucking spazz and to make shit up on the fly. It is just who he is and who can blame him for that? My diagnosis of his life was that he simply had none. He was the slow kid in his class who everyone picked on and he made this alter ego known as the Chosen Future to fill the role of a father figure to him since his father was too busy drinking and beating his mother to give a fuck about him. So as time went on there was less Nate Bishop and more Chosen Future. This latest piece of crap he throws out of course is a desperate cry for attention because clearly he is neither an important or an intrical piece to anything in APW what so ever. He is going through the little fish in a big lake syndrome. It is common for underachievers and glory hogs when they realize that they have no place in society.
As for Pierce, he is an observer, a chicken, an anti-social citizen, and a nuisance at best. His life must have been the roughest of all to be as he is now. The man stands on street corners talking about a God, whichever one that may be, but at the same time he tries to distance himself from others. Not that I blame him. He is just too scared to make any sort of relationship with an individual not after what his father did to him in that basement. Hell, I would praying to any God that would hear me, if something like that happened to me too. The fact is, he is a fixable problem. Unlike the other two he is not too far gone as there is actually a real person inside there. He is not an abuser who is too addicted to his drugs or a disillusioned individual who believes he is the best thing to ever come into the business. He is a man with a predominant issue that therapy can fix and that is why I am extending my hand to him. I've called a few psychiatrists to help all he needs to do is ask me for help and I will be there."
Madok looks at the headline of the paper and then puts it down before continuing.
"As for my team mates, I realize both of you want what I have. My title that I don't even want. I mean the only title that matters to me is the one that joke of an individual Casteel gets to chase down for the next month or so. So if you want to obtain a shot...get in line and prove your worth to me tonight. I can pull some strings, maybe give you both a shot? I think that is possible, but of course that is only going to happen if we win tonight...so make that happen and I will see what I can do. For now, that is all I have to say. Now I'm going to enjoy my nice omelet in peace as I read my paper."
Madok eats another bite of his omelet.
"This fucking thing is delicous."
Madok begins to read his paper with a grin as the door behind him opens and Nicky walks in. He turns around to stare at her, she looks rather frazzled as she walks over to join him.
"We need to talk."
"Can it wait, I was about to read about what is going on with the looming government shut down?"
"No, it can't wait...I'm late."
Madok looked over at her confused and then replied.
"Late for an appointment?"
"No, Madok...I think I'm...pregnant."
Madok's eyes went wide as he fumbles with the fork that he was hoisting a piece of omelet to his mouth with.
"Preg...nant..."
The scene fades to black as in big blue words this pops up on the screen.
The scene re-opens on Madok's bed room which to be honest is rather well decorated and put together. Nothing is out of place and nothing looks to be worth less than a hundred dollars in the room as apparently Madok has spared no expense in making the bed-room relaxing and comfortable. The camera pans over to the large king sized bed which is in shambles, sheets lay discarded on the floor, the quilt is thrown to the side, and pillows lay discarded in random locations. It must have been a wild night, a night that left Madok alone in his bed looking up at the ceiling with a rather large grin on his face.
"She really knows her way around the bedroom."
He says to himself as he sits up from his prone position to look around the room. He itches his head and then stands up, walking over to the bathroom to take his morning shower in his twenty thousand dollar bathroom. After a few minutes of silent washing, Madok emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He looks around the room one more time and then itches his chin, clearly unsure as to where Nicky has run off to. He shrugs his shoulders and then begins to get dressed in front of the camera. He chuckles to himself as he turns to see the camera on.
"It appears I am giving the fans a peep show...take it in ladies."
He finishes dressing quickly and then makes his way over to the camera which he picks up and begins to walk out the door with. He does a pan around his penthouse room in New York.
"This is how you wisely spend your cash. No yachts, no fancy smancy bull shit like gourmet food, and above all else no fucking strippers."
Madok walks down the stairs giving the people at home an eyeful of the New York sky line, he pauses in front of the window, and looks out it. He itches his head again and then continues on to the kitchen to see what his chef is cooking today. The chef is so busy he doesn't notice Madok walk in and take a quick look around.
"This is my kitchen, simple, and elegant."
The chef jumps as he hears Madok's voice and turns around holding his chest.
"Jeeze! Sir, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Sorry about that, Benjamen. Just showing the fans around the apartment."
"Very good, sir. Should I bring your breakfast to the table with the morning paper?"
"Yes. Oh and what exactly is for breakfast this morning, Benjamen?"
Benjamen steps aside to reveal an omelet with an assortment of vegetables and meats in it. Madok lets out a satisfied sigh as he smells the delicious cuisine being cooked on the oven.
"Another great breakfast, Benjamen."
"Thank you, sir."
Madok goes to leave the kitchen, but as he opens the door, he turns around, and then with a questioning glance speaks up.
"Have you seen Nicky, Benjamen?"
"Not since this morning, sir. She said she would not be eating breakfast here and that she had some matters to attend to."
"Alright, but she is missing out."
Madok nods his head as he turns back around and steps out into the kitchen area which is prepared for a dining party of one for now. Madok sits down and waits patiently for his meal to be done and after about a minute or two, Benjamen emerges from the kitchen carrying a plate in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
"Here you go, sir."
Benjamen puts the plate and the newspaper down and Madok lifts the lid himself to take a look at the perfect omelet on his plate. He grins and then turns to Benjamen.
"You have out-done yourself again. Take the rest of the day off."
"Thank you, sir."
Benjamen needs no other prodding to begin to leave to head to his home across the hall. Even Madok's entourage of workers have their very own sweets. Truly it pays to work for a billionaire. Madok doesn't hesitate to take a bite of his omelet and lets out a sigh of delight as he puts the fork down and opens the paper.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, it is me...your beloved Cloud Chaser here in the early morning to let you know that you too can live a life like this. Sure...it will take a lot of effort, but know that in the end. Anything is possible. Just like what is going to happen tonight for instance. Tonight, my team and I, go in to do what some think will be an impossible task. The task is simply put to usurp those that are deemed as being nuisances on our perfect APW because lets face it, that is exactly what Dangertainment is. Dangertainment has made its' buck off of fucking, punching, and nuking anything creative in this world of ours and I am sick and tired of it. Quite honestly to the point where I feel that I may have to shed the skin of the civilized folk of the upper class and become more like the dirty and underprivileged members of their very own circle.
You see, Dangertainment is the epicenter of what can go wrong with a civilization, they embody the problems of our decaying neighborhoods around the world, and embrace it with open arms. They embrace ignorance, greed, and addiction and they use this to fuel their war machines to lead their followers to the next Dark Ages of civilization. Sure, they are talented, but their talent comes from a much darker place than the common man. Their talent comes from the necessity of survival. Take J.T. Kash for instance. This man is by far the lowest of the low, an abuser of an illegal substance, which by my recollection is against all the codes of conduct in wrestling entertainment, but that is neither here nor there. His talents have come from the need to survive. Quite honestly we all know that there are many different types of abusers in this world, but Kash strikes me as a man who had a rough life and had to develop his talents to survive in his harsh environment. Most likely he had a horrible father figure and his mother was addicted to crack. Quite a possibility, nothing is beyond the grasp of my imagination, but I digress. What I am getting at is that the man clearly has not a piece of wit in him or a brain cell left in his head. The man relies solely on his in-ring ability and that my friends is a huge flaw, much like a flaw in a nearly perfect painting, it is hard to see, but when you see it, you know it is not worth your interest.
As for Bishop, well it is hard to say where this fellow simply fits in to the grand scheme of things for dangertainement. Sure his role in the group is easy to see...he is the retarded puppy that the group who gets pats on the back so that he can feel like he is important. Everyone has one...for our group it is Benny, mind you he is not half as dumb as Bishop. Oh, no. Bishop takes the cake on mental retardation. I'm sure it is genetic, it would make sense because he seems to think it is okay to act like a fucking spazz and to make shit up on the fly. It is just who he is and who can blame him for that? My diagnosis of his life was that he simply had none. He was the slow kid in his class who everyone picked on and he made this alter ego known as the Chosen Future to fill the role of a father figure to him since his father was too busy drinking and beating his mother to give a fuck about him. So as time went on there was less Nate Bishop and more Chosen Future. This latest piece of crap he throws out of course is a desperate cry for attention because clearly he is neither an important or an intrical piece to anything in APW what so ever. He is going through the little fish in a big lake syndrome. It is common for underachievers and glory hogs when they realize that they have no place in society.
As for Pierce, he is an observer, a chicken, an anti-social citizen, and a nuisance at best. His life must have been the roughest of all to be as he is now. The man stands on street corners talking about a God, whichever one that may be, but at the same time he tries to distance himself from others. Not that I blame him. He is just too scared to make any sort of relationship with an individual not after what his father did to him in that basement. Hell, I would praying to any God that would hear me, if something like that happened to me too. The fact is, he is a fixable problem. Unlike the other two he is not too far gone as there is actually a real person inside there. He is not an abuser who is too addicted to his drugs or a disillusioned individual who believes he is the best thing to ever come into the business. He is a man with a predominant issue that therapy can fix and that is why I am extending my hand to him. I've called a few psychiatrists to help all he needs to do is ask me for help and I will be there."
Madok looks at the headline of the paper and then puts it down before continuing.
"As for my team mates, I realize both of you want what I have. My title that I don't even want. I mean the only title that matters to me is the one that joke of an individual Casteel gets to chase down for the next month or so. So if you want to obtain a shot...get in line and prove your worth to me tonight. I can pull some strings, maybe give you both a shot? I think that is possible, but of course that is only going to happen if we win tonight...so make that happen and I will see what I can do. For now, that is all I have to say. Now I'm going to enjoy my nice omelet in peace as I read my paper."
Madok eats another bite of his omelet.
"This fucking thing is delicous."
Madok begins to read his paper with a grin as the door behind him opens and Nicky walks in. He turns around to stare at her, she looks rather frazzled as she walks over to join him.
"We need to talk."
"Can it wait, I was about to read about what is going on with the looming government shut down?"
"No, it can't wait...I'm late."
Madok looked over at her confused and then replied.
"Late for an appointment?"
"No, Madok...I think I'm...pregnant."
Madok's eyes went wide as he fumbles with the fork that he was hoisting a piece of omelet to his mouth with.
"Preg...nant..."
The scene fades to black as in big blue words this pops up on the screen.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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