Post by MasterEvil on Jun 19, 2016 12:43:53 GMT
Act 1
Not worth mentioning…am I really not worth mentioning? My heyday was like three years ago so maybe it is true…that I’m not worth mentioning? I wish I knew the answer but the one thing I do know is that my little Sarah looks so adorable the plays with Jericho’s daughter Sabrina. Both me and Jericho were trained by the same trainer and from my first day of training we not only hit it off as good friends but I also look up to him like a brother I wish I had…instead of the hellhole of a family I was born into.
“Tea?”
I looked away from the two girls to see Jericho offering me a mug of tea. With a nod I took the mug, mouthed out a ‘thank you’ and placed it down in front of me as he brought out a mug of coffee for himself.
“The two girls…they’re so cute together aren’t they?”
“Yes they are…but don’t get any ideas of turning my daughter into a lesbian before she’s old enough to actually have a date.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. I know he doesn’t have anything against my sexual orientation, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to be the best man to my wedding with Shannon.
“But right now I want to talk about a certain something.”
Wow that was quick. I know Jericho isn’t the type to take his time but this has to be a record or something.
“Yeah you do…what would this talk be about?”
“Well, Megan, I watched this Manifest Destiny tournament on the telly and you looked, well, rather lost out there.”
“Yeah…well, like that Bright girl said, I’m not really worth mentioning.”
“That isn’t true and you know it!”
Holy shit that was a lightning bolt of a fast reaction.
“Megan, you looked lost out there not because you don’t belong out there but because you think you don’t belong out there. But let me tell you this now that you do belong out there Megan, more than half the people currently out there. You just need to believe in yourself again and you’ll coast through the competition.”
“But I was eliminated-”
“I spoke with the guy running the tournament. Due a Kitty Wilcox, whoever that nobody is, pulling out they need an emergency last entrant. So I contacted the guy, had a formal chat and you’ve been invited to take Wilcox’s second round place against one Tokyo Zombie.”
He did that…going out of his way…just for me? I couldn’t help but smile at the fact my friend has got me a second opportunity to supply great money to my daughter’s future.
“Thank you…”
“No need to thank me. Just come around more option, Sabrina has been missing Sarah’s company.”
I nodded with a small laugh before we began to have our drinks. I bet Sarah probably thinks I’m weird for suddenly laughing…but whatever. I have a second chance at this tournament and I will be damned if I just throw it away without a decent fight first.
“Tea?”
I looked away from the two girls to see Jericho offering me a mug of tea. With a nod I took the mug, mouthed out a ‘thank you’ and placed it down in front of me as he brought out a mug of coffee for himself.
“The two girls…they’re so cute together aren’t they?”
“Yes they are…but don’t get any ideas of turning my daughter into a lesbian before she’s old enough to actually have a date.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. I know he doesn’t have anything against my sexual orientation, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to be the best man to my wedding with Shannon.
“But right now I want to talk about a certain something.”
Wow that was quick. I know Jericho isn’t the type to take his time but this has to be a record or something.
“Yeah you do…what would this talk be about?”
“Well, Megan, I watched this Manifest Destiny tournament on the telly and you looked, well, rather lost out there.”
“Yeah…well, like that Bright girl said, I’m not really worth mentioning.”
“That isn’t true and you know it!”
Holy shit that was a lightning bolt of a fast reaction.
“Megan, you looked lost out there not because you don’t belong out there but because you think you don’t belong out there. But let me tell you this now that you do belong out there Megan, more than half the people currently out there. You just need to believe in yourself again and you’ll coast through the competition.”
“But I was eliminated-”
“I spoke with the guy running the tournament. Due a Kitty Wilcox, whoever that nobody is, pulling out they need an emergency last entrant. So I contacted the guy, had a formal chat and you’ve been invited to take Wilcox’s second round place against one Tokyo Zombie.”
He did that…going out of his way…just for me? I couldn’t help but smile at the fact my friend has got me a second opportunity to supply great money to my daughter’s future.
“Thank you…”
“No need to thank me. Just come around more option, Sabrina has been missing Sarah’s company.”
I nodded with a small laugh before we began to have our drinks. I bet Sarah probably thinks I’m weird for suddenly laughing…but whatever. I have a second chance at this tournament and I will be damned if I just throw it away without a decent fight first.
Act 2
The rain is pouring…but of not only water, but also grey petals are showering down upon us with both a majestic aura and no noise as they hammer down on the pavement in front of us. Just away from us is a purple haired woman we know as Megan, the entrant of the Manifest Destiny tournament who’ve lost in the previous round. In a rather unique situation Kitty Wilcox, a fellow first round loser, was given the chance to compete in the second round, against Tokyo Zombie, yet decided to turn down such an offer. Is Megan trying to take Kitty’s place? Will such a thing be allowed? Maybe, maybe not, either way she is currently standing in the streets of Miami as the water and petal rain down in this greyscale atmosphere, her purple hair being the only thing of colour.
“Manifest Destiny…a competition between the representatives of many different federations, from those like EWC, Boardwalk and F1W to STW, NJFC and GZWA. The winner gets money and glory while the federation they are representing will have bragging rights. Oh, I know that the purpose of this Manifest Destiny tournament is to have some kind of connection between all the federations…like the American settlers once believed in it being destiny to expand across the entire continent of North America…
But…”
After finishing her words the purple haired woman pulls out an old looking book and opens it so that we could see the last few pages of it.
“In nineteen-sixty-three a historian called Frederick Merk concluded his written reinterpretation with: ‘from the outset Manifest Destiny - vast in program, in its sense of continentalism - was slight in support. It lacked national, sectional or party following commensurate with its magnitude. The reason was it did not reflect the national spirit. The thesis that it embodied nationalism found in much historical writing, is backed by little real supporting evidence.’ To simplify such matters to words that even those as braindead as a zombie can understand…the idea of Manifest Destiny back then FAILED and the Manifest Destiny of today will fail as well at this rate.
Why is that?
Because someone has already pulled out their support…a one, cowardy, Kitty Wilcox. She doesn’t like one of the people who seems to be supporting this competition and ran away…even when she was literally handed a second opportunity on a platter. What…a…coward. However - similar to an old Soviet method of warfare - when one person falls, another comes to pick up the torch and continue onward. But who shall be the one of the fallen who’ll rise back up and clutch said torch?”
A smirk etched itself across Megan’s face, our view crackling as her teeth came on show. It was then second coloured object falls into vision. A single rose…a red rose, falling down to the ground. The moment the flower touched the greyscale ground light explodes into our vision, blinding us in the process.
“I’ll be the one who grabs that torch.”
And from the blinding light explodes images into our vision. Stone brick ground, a medieval stage and a stone walls that almost reaches the very sky itself. We’re no longer in Miami…but instead in a Roman Colosseum of some kind. We turn a full one-eighty and now, standing on the edge of the stage, is the very same woman we saw earlier…but her clothes are very different now. A red military styled, yet very revealing, dress is now what we see the milky skinned woman wearing as she acknowledges us with a smirk.
“My name is Robina Hood and welcome to The Theatre of the Deranged.”
Robina proudly declares, puffing her chest out as she does so, before spreading her arms out in some kind of ‘look at what I have’ kind of way. The smirk on her face even grew in such a haughty manner before the Emo Princess sat down on the edge of her stage so she look a little less down towards us as she speaks.
“But who, oh who, will have the pleasure of being the supporting act to the Highlight of the Night? Oh yeah, a guy calling himself Tokyo Zombie. Why a zombie, Tokyo? Don’t you ever watch, like, any zombie flick? The zombie ALWAYS die at the end, losing to the protagonist of the movie. From Ben of Night of the Living Dead to Ash Williams of the Evil Dead franchise. Hell, doesn’t Resident Evil teach you anything with heroes like Chris, Leon and Claire? Zombies don’t think. Zombies don’t care about heroism. Zombies only kill people. Zombies only devour people. And zombies always lose. There has never been an exception before, there isn’t any exceptions today and there will never, ever, be an exception. Even though it would be pretty awesome to see who would survive a zombie apocalypse…
Not that you have any chance of doing such a thing, Tokyo. Yes, you are a self-trained expert of the martial arts known as karate. Yes, you are probably tough as balls for the amount of tattoos you happily have patterned across your body. And yes, oh unfortunately yes, you come from the same company that has that phenomenally lucky Aelyra Blight. But rise and shine, sunshine…because here is some breaking news for you. One, I’ve seen more than enough Karate Kid films - the good, bad and ugly ones - to know what I ever need to know about your precious martial art. Two, I said ‘probably’ not completely for I, for one, believe that those tattoos are simply compensating, no…overcompensating for someone. Hm, maybe they’re compensating for some secret cowardice? Wouldn’t surprise me at all to be honest.
But back on topic!
And three…if I ever, and I mean ever, see Aelyra Blight ever again - be it in the ring, backstage or even at her front garden - I’ll pluck every single tooth from of her mouth, crush them all down to make bread and shove the entire loaf down her throat.”
The Purple Haired Dynamo growled out her last few words before tilting her face back towards us with a soft smile.
“But back to you, dear Tokyo Zombie. I should never forget about you…after all, the main star needs her support cast so she can shine incredibly bright in the second round of this Manifest Destiny tournament. After all, as the Highlight of the Night, it is my destiny to win this contest and claim dominance over all the side characters that take up the rest of this tournament. Sure I already know that I’m the best around…but what fun would it be to simply be the best without having the opportunity to show off such an obvious fact. What was that? What about Aelyra tweet? That she admits that I am not mentioning by name.
Eh…she was right.
The person I was back then, so happy and content with life, wouldn’t last a SECOND in an actual match. So Aelyra…thank you. Thank you for waking me up and making me realise what I should have done from the moment I returned to professional wrestling. But Tokyo, oh poor Tokyo, you have my permission to cry and blame her for your upcoming suffering since, to rephrase what a fun man once said…”
Her eyes never once looked away from us, minus the times she would blink, as the pale skinned female spoke to us in a manner of which both her voice and body are showing off not only politeness but also a sense of superiority. Once she finished her words Miss Hood reaches her right hand back behind herself and pulls out a red rose, holding it close for her to sniff it before smiling a little animalistically.
“Wait till you get a load of me.”
The moment those words enter our ears the purple haired woman lets go of her rose. The flower fell down until it hit the floor. However the moment the flower head touched the floor an explosion of light booms out, whitening our entire vision until we can no longer see a single thing.
“Manifest Destiny…a competition between the representatives of many different federations, from those like EWC, Boardwalk and F1W to STW, NJFC and GZWA. The winner gets money and glory while the federation they are representing will have bragging rights. Oh, I know that the purpose of this Manifest Destiny tournament is to have some kind of connection between all the federations…like the American settlers once believed in it being destiny to expand across the entire continent of North America…
But…”
After finishing her words the purple haired woman pulls out an old looking book and opens it so that we could see the last few pages of it.
“In nineteen-sixty-three a historian called Frederick Merk concluded his written reinterpretation with: ‘from the outset Manifest Destiny - vast in program, in its sense of continentalism - was slight in support. It lacked national, sectional or party following commensurate with its magnitude. The reason was it did not reflect the national spirit. The thesis that it embodied nationalism found in much historical writing, is backed by little real supporting evidence.’ To simplify such matters to words that even those as braindead as a zombie can understand…the idea of Manifest Destiny back then FAILED and the Manifest Destiny of today will fail as well at this rate.
Why is that?
Because someone has already pulled out their support…a one, cowardy, Kitty Wilcox. She doesn’t like one of the people who seems to be supporting this competition and ran away…even when she was literally handed a second opportunity on a platter. What…a…coward. However - similar to an old Soviet method of warfare - when one person falls, another comes to pick up the torch and continue onward. But who shall be the one of the fallen who’ll rise back up and clutch said torch?”
A smirk etched itself across Megan’s face, our view crackling as her teeth came on show. It was then second coloured object falls into vision. A single rose…a red rose, falling down to the ground. The moment the flower touched the greyscale ground light explodes into our vision, blinding us in the process.
“I’ll be the one who grabs that torch.”
And from the blinding light explodes images into our vision. Stone brick ground, a medieval stage and a stone walls that almost reaches the very sky itself. We’re no longer in Miami…but instead in a Roman Colosseum of some kind. We turn a full one-eighty and now, standing on the edge of the stage, is the very same woman we saw earlier…but her clothes are very different now. A red military styled, yet very revealing, dress is now what we see the milky skinned woman wearing as she acknowledges us with a smirk.
“My name is Robina Hood and welcome to The Theatre of the Deranged.”
Robina proudly declares, puffing her chest out as she does so, before spreading her arms out in some kind of ‘look at what I have’ kind of way. The smirk on her face even grew in such a haughty manner before the Emo Princess sat down on the edge of her stage so she look a little less down towards us as she speaks.
“But who, oh who, will have the pleasure of being the supporting act to the Highlight of the Night? Oh yeah, a guy calling himself Tokyo Zombie. Why a zombie, Tokyo? Don’t you ever watch, like, any zombie flick? The zombie ALWAYS die at the end, losing to the protagonist of the movie. From Ben of Night of the Living Dead to Ash Williams of the Evil Dead franchise. Hell, doesn’t Resident Evil teach you anything with heroes like Chris, Leon and Claire? Zombies don’t think. Zombies don’t care about heroism. Zombies only kill people. Zombies only devour people. And zombies always lose. There has never been an exception before, there isn’t any exceptions today and there will never, ever, be an exception. Even though it would be pretty awesome to see who would survive a zombie apocalypse…
Not that you have any chance of doing such a thing, Tokyo. Yes, you are a self-trained expert of the martial arts known as karate. Yes, you are probably tough as balls for the amount of tattoos you happily have patterned across your body. And yes, oh unfortunately yes, you come from the same company that has that phenomenally lucky Aelyra Blight. But rise and shine, sunshine…because here is some breaking news for you. One, I’ve seen more than enough Karate Kid films - the good, bad and ugly ones - to know what I ever need to know about your precious martial art. Two, I said ‘probably’ not completely for I, for one, believe that those tattoos are simply compensating, no…overcompensating for someone. Hm, maybe they’re compensating for some secret cowardice? Wouldn’t surprise me at all to be honest.
But back on topic!
And three…if I ever, and I mean ever, see Aelyra Blight ever again - be it in the ring, backstage or even at her front garden - I’ll pluck every single tooth from of her mouth, crush them all down to make bread and shove the entire loaf down her throat.”
The Purple Haired Dynamo growled out her last few words before tilting her face back towards us with a soft smile.
“But back to you, dear Tokyo Zombie. I should never forget about you…after all, the main star needs her support cast so she can shine incredibly bright in the second round of this Manifest Destiny tournament. After all, as the Highlight of the Night, it is my destiny to win this contest and claim dominance over all the side characters that take up the rest of this tournament. Sure I already know that I’m the best around…but what fun would it be to simply be the best without having the opportunity to show off such an obvious fact. What was that? What about Aelyra tweet? That she admits that I am not mentioning by name.
Eh…she was right.
The person I was back then, so happy and content with life, wouldn’t last a SECOND in an actual match. So Aelyra…thank you. Thank you for waking me up and making me realise what I should have done from the moment I returned to professional wrestling. But Tokyo, oh poor Tokyo, you have my permission to cry and blame her for your upcoming suffering since, to rephrase what a fun man once said…”
Her eyes never once looked away from us, minus the times she would blink, as the pale skinned female spoke to us in a manner of which both her voice and body are showing off not only politeness but also a sense of superiority. Once she finished her words Miss Hood reaches her right hand back behind herself and pulls out a red rose, holding it close for her to sniff it before smiling a little animalistically.
“Wait till you get a load of me.”
The moment those words enter our ears the purple haired woman lets go of her rose. The flower fell down until it hit the floor. However the moment the flower head touched the floor an explosion of light booms out, whitening our entire vision until we can no longer see a single thing.
Act 3
We’re inside a rather rusty looking house, nothing so dark but definitely dusty and dull in this dimly lit structure. However, when we reach for a possible way to brighten up the room, a huge crashing sound echo across the room as we spin around to see a woman fly through the window, rolled over the small table and, the moment she lands on her feet, sprints over to the open window way before raising up two Uzi submachine guns and shoots away at the direction she came from. This shooting lasted a loud half a minute before the woman sighed lightly and looked over our way. Even though in a ponytail, the purple hair makes it pretty obvious that this milky skinned woman is none other than Megan as gives us a look of surprise.
“There are other survivors? Thank goodness for that…”
She said before sighing in relief. Wearing a pair of denim shorts, underneath which are a pair of tights that only reach halfway down her thighs, a black shirt and a red, sleeveless, jacket on top of it the purple haired woman actually seem to be relieved to see us as another sigh leaves her lips before she begins to speak up once more.
“I honestly feared that I was the last one left in this apocalypse…”
Apocalypse? What kind of apocalypse? Before we could ask the upper half of a zombie pops through the empty window and tries to grab the woman who previously referred to herself as Robina Hood. With instincts of a cat Robina sprung to the side and shot the animated corpse directly in the head before throwing said body back out from the building. Once she did so Miss Hood actually placed her firearms down on the table and began to roam around the room for something.
“I’m guessing, from your surprised reaction, that you’re confused about this zombie apocalypse…not sure why you’re surprised though, since zombies don’t just appear out of nowhere. However I’ll explain what happened. He happened…Tokyo Zombie happened. It all started twenty-eight days ago…the finals of Manifest Destiny. Tokyo Zombie used his bulkiness, karate skills and will to win to claim the tournament trophy as his own. Believing that his victory was down to his heroism the glory snuck into his head and tainted his mind…thus leading to ego driven decision with ego driven reasoning. This continues onward and onward until the entire world is ruled under his tattooed fist. A world a no crime…no ‘wrongdoing’…no freedom. A prison with over seven billion inhabitants that are all too scared to death to even speak their mind. So who would be able to stop a madman from putting the idea of installing ‘justice’ into the people into said hero’s ears?”
As she speaks the ponytailed woman is gettings planks of wood and placing them near the window. It was only when she asked her question that Robina has finally stopped her gathering of wood and pulled out a hammer and nails from a nearby drawer. Clearly her mind is set on setting a new board up to stop any zombies from suddenly flying into our place. But even if she is preoccupied the Emo Princess took a moment to have a deep breath before continuing to speak.
“With no one brave enough to speak against him, let alone fight against his victorious self, Tokyo decides to forward such a machine. The purpose of which was to permanently prevent any crime by removing such thoughts from people’s mind, thus instilling justice into all seven billion of them…something that his heroic mind wants. Yet, just like the Reavers in Serenity and Firefly, a simple idea never bring simple results. The people who were tested on lost their ‘bad thoughts’…and emotions…and motivation…and imagination…they basically lost their minds and chose to lay down and die! Until some begin to stand again…with bloodthirsty eyes and ugly teeth they gnaw and chew innocent after innocent, until we reach the apocalypse we’re in right now. Oh Tokyo did try to fight…only for his karate to not be enough against the horde. His bulkiness simply supplied more meat for them to eat. And that will for justice…not only betrayed his stupidity, but also doomed the world to extinction.”
When she finished her words the purple haired woman finished reconstructing a barricade that covers the window as now Robina is sitting on the table she originally set her firearms on. With a shake of her head and another sigh the Emo Princess looked up towards the ceiling.
“Loads of people always want to be a superhero, from the likes of Superman and Batman to Spiderman and Ironman, but - when wanting to be a superhero himself - did Tokyo Zombie ever once wondered why no one ever tried to be a long-term superhero before?”
After asking her question Miss Hood turned her head to look directly at us.
“Because justice is just an opinion that one believes in and follows all the way to their own demise, neglecting how much pain and suffering they cause to others. True justice is bullshit and it was Tokyo’s belief in his own brand of justice being true justice that has killed this world!”
The demented archer shouted out at us, her voice damning in tone, before her left hand moved behind her and pulled out a lone red rose for both her hands to gently clutch.
“So I’m going to go back in time…all the way back to the second round of the Manifest Destiny tournament…and stop Tokyo. I’m going to defeat this pretend hero and eliminate him from Manifest Destiny, thus robbing him of his glory and giving it to those worthier, but not just to save professional wrestling…”
Robina’s grip on the rose’s stalk loosens as she spoke until the flower fell out of her hand.
“But also the world itself.”
The moment she said those words the flowerhead touched the floor…and when it did a blinding light shoots out. Once we regain our sight all we can see is the same room that we are in…but with Robina Hood missing…and the sound of banging and blood gurgling from the other side of these loosely boarded up windows.
“There are other survivors? Thank goodness for that…”
She said before sighing in relief. Wearing a pair of denim shorts, underneath which are a pair of tights that only reach halfway down her thighs, a black shirt and a red, sleeveless, jacket on top of it the purple haired woman actually seem to be relieved to see us as another sigh leaves her lips before she begins to speak up once more.
“I honestly feared that I was the last one left in this apocalypse…”
Apocalypse? What kind of apocalypse? Before we could ask the upper half of a zombie pops through the empty window and tries to grab the woman who previously referred to herself as Robina Hood. With instincts of a cat Robina sprung to the side and shot the animated corpse directly in the head before throwing said body back out from the building. Once she did so Miss Hood actually placed her firearms down on the table and began to roam around the room for something.
“I’m guessing, from your surprised reaction, that you’re confused about this zombie apocalypse…not sure why you’re surprised though, since zombies don’t just appear out of nowhere. However I’ll explain what happened. He happened…Tokyo Zombie happened. It all started twenty-eight days ago…the finals of Manifest Destiny. Tokyo Zombie used his bulkiness, karate skills and will to win to claim the tournament trophy as his own. Believing that his victory was down to his heroism the glory snuck into his head and tainted his mind…thus leading to ego driven decision with ego driven reasoning. This continues onward and onward until the entire world is ruled under his tattooed fist. A world a no crime…no ‘wrongdoing’…no freedom. A prison with over seven billion inhabitants that are all too scared to death to even speak their mind. So who would be able to stop a madman from putting the idea of installing ‘justice’ into the people into said hero’s ears?”
As she speaks the ponytailed woman is gettings planks of wood and placing them near the window. It was only when she asked her question that Robina has finally stopped her gathering of wood and pulled out a hammer and nails from a nearby drawer. Clearly her mind is set on setting a new board up to stop any zombies from suddenly flying into our place. But even if she is preoccupied the Emo Princess took a moment to have a deep breath before continuing to speak.
“With no one brave enough to speak against him, let alone fight against his victorious self, Tokyo decides to forward such a machine. The purpose of which was to permanently prevent any crime by removing such thoughts from people’s mind, thus instilling justice into all seven billion of them…something that his heroic mind wants. Yet, just like the Reavers in Serenity and Firefly, a simple idea never bring simple results. The people who were tested on lost their ‘bad thoughts’…and emotions…and motivation…and imagination…they basically lost their minds and chose to lay down and die! Until some begin to stand again…with bloodthirsty eyes and ugly teeth they gnaw and chew innocent after innocent, until we reach the apocalypse we’re in right now. Oh Tokyo did try to fight…only for his karate to not be enough against the horde. His bulkiness simply supplied more meat for them to eat. And that will for justice…not only betrayed his stupidity, but also doomed the world to extinction.”
When she finished her words the purple haired woman finished reconstructing a barricade that covers the window as now Robina is sitting on the table she originally set her firearms on. With a shake of her head and another sigh the Emo Princess looked up towards the ceiling.
“Loads of people always want to be a superhero, from the likes of Superman and Batman to Spiderman and Ironman, but - when wanting to be a superhero himself - did Tokyo Zombie ever once wondered why no one ever tried to be a long-term superhero before?”
After asking her question Miss Hood turned her head to look directly at us.
“Because justice is just an opinion that one believes in and follows all the way to their own demise, neglecting how much pain and suffering they cause to others. True justice is bullshit and it was Tokyo’s belief in his own brand of justice being true justice that has killed this world!”
The demented archer shouted out at us, her voice damning in tone, before her left hand moved behind her and pulled out a lone red rose for both her hands to gently clutch.
“So I’m going to go back in time…all the way back to the second round of the Manifest Destiny tournament…and stop Tokyo. I’m going to defeat this pretend hero and eliminate him from Manifest Destiny, thus robbing him of his glory and giving it to those worthier, but not just to save professional wrestling…”
Robina’s grip on the rose’s stalk loosens as she spoke until the flower fell out of her hand.
“But also the world itself.”
The moment she said those words the flowerhead touched the floor…and when it did a blinding light shoots out. Once we regain our sight all we can see is the same room that we are in…but with Robina Hood missing…and the sound of banging and blood gurgling from the other side of these loosely boarded up windows.