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View Full Version : BOSTON: Rocko Daymon vs. "The Torture King" Jarrod Poe



TH
02-12-07, 08:37 AM
The former A1E Triple Star Champion does battle with Hellion's protege.

First round matchup to be held at the Bryce Jordan Center in University Park, PA on Penn State U.'s campus. No RP limit, RP deadline is Sunday, February 18th at 11:59:59 PM (give or take a second).

Devil666
02-15-07, 09:18 PM
~ DARKNESS ~

(Heavy footsteps are heard walking closer and closer, and then followed by the sound of wood being dragged upon wood. There's a metallic click followed by a light shining upon a worn wooden table. Slowly a hand slides into camera view. Adorned with several skull rings, a spider-web near his thumb and the world hate tattooed across his knuckles. He slowly drums his fingers in boredom as the moments tick by slowly, then suddenly the fingers stop and the palm flattens. He clears his throat)

Poe: I'm not going to bore you with talk Rocko. I'm a very direct person. I don't know who you are...and I damn sure don't care who you are. Further more you don't know who I am....and don't think for a minute you'll even fathom the man you’re going to be stepping into the ring with. They describe me as a protégé of Hellion. That's wrong. I follow no man. His training I appreciate, but the only thing that leads me are the demons I see every time I close my eyes.

(He extends his index finger and slowly draws a figure-eight in the dust of the desk.)

Poe: I'll also save you some effort. Don't bother with threats or promises. If you’re going to run down a list of what you've done or what you’re going to do. To me...that's just a recipe for sleep. On top of that...not for a second should you tell me about the pain and suffering I might be in for. You have no idea the concept of pain when you take my understanding o fit in. I've suffered physical and emotional pain the likes of what you can't even begin you understand. I've suffered the loss of things far more precious to me then any wrestling match or shiny gold belt. At night I feel dead inside....and any threat of pain or hurt you might offer is just an incentive to remind me that I'm alive.

(The finger points to the camera)

Poe: and the last thing you'll want to do is encourage me Rocko. No I'm unlike any man you've stepped in the ring with and I know you probably don't believe that...well that's ok. Because when the bell rings...I'll be more then happy to prove it to you. I've been out of action for awhile. I've traveled around the world. I've seen and heard allot of awful things. Stuff I can't even talk about, yet I'm back in the ring and I'm ready to fight.

(He rolls his palm over to show a tattoo of a perfect blue eye staring back)

Poe: When that bell rings that bell rings I'm going to put this hand and it's matching pair on you and I'm going to make you hurt. I'm going to show what true lengths a man will go to for victory and it will not be pretty. Again...I know you might not believe me, but the beauty is I don't care what you think. My only goal and my only mindset is putting your shoulders to the mat and getting that three count. Now you can make that easy or you can make that hard. Either way I'm going to make that happen.

(He makes a fist and quickly snaps his fingers)

Poe: Yet there's another choice Rocko. You can resist...and I'll make you tap. It's not a good choice on your part, but again...the beauty is I don't care. I'm just going to beat you and it's all that matters. I am Jarod Poe...I am the "Torture King"...your just the first step in a very long line, but I'll finally tell you what all the others and you will quickly learn.

(His hand reaches up and grabs the chain of the lamp.)

Poe: Fear what you don't understand and hate....hate what you can't conquer)

(He shuts off the light)

~ DARKNESS ~

Devil666
02-15-07, 09:20 PM
~ DARKNESS ~

(Heavy footsteps are heard walking closer and closer, and then followed by the sound of wood being dragged upon wood. There's a metallic click followed by a light shining upon a worn wooden table. Slowly a hand slides into camera view. Adorned with several skull rings, a spider-web near his thumb and the world hate tattooed across his knuckles. He slowly drums his fingers in boredom as the moments tick by slowly, then suddenly the fingers stop and the palm flattens. He clears his throat)

Poe: I'm not going to bore you with talk Rocko. I'm a very direct person. I don't know who you are...and I damn sure don't care who you are. Further more you don't know who I am....and don't think for a minute you'll even fathom the man you’re going to be stepping into the ring with. They describe me as a protégé of Hellion. That's wrong. I follow no man. His training I appreciate, but the only thing that leads me are the demons I see every time I close my eyes.

(He extends his index finger and slowly draws a figure-eight in the dust of the desk.)

Poe: I'll also save you some effort. Don't bother with threats or promises. If you’re going to run down a list of what you've done or what you’re going to do. To me...that's just a recipe for sleep. On top of that...not for a second should you tell me about the pain and suffering I might be in for. You have no idea the concept of pain when you take my understanding o fit in. I've suffered physical and emotional pain the likes of what you can't even begin you understand. I've suffered the loss of things far more precious to me then any wrestling match or shiny gold belt. At night I feel dead inside....and any threat of pain or hurt you might offer is just an incentive to remind me that I'm alive.

(The finger points to the camera)

Poe: and the last thing you'll want to do is encourage me Rocko. No I'm unlike any man you've stepped in the ring with and I know you probably don't believe that...well that's ok. Because when the bell rings...I'll be more then happy to prove it to you. I've been out of action for awhile. I've traveled around the world. I've seen and heard allot of awful things. Stuff I can't even talk about, yet I'm back in the ring and I'm ready to fight.

(He rolls his palm over to show a tattoo of a perfect blue eye staring back)

Poe: When that bell rings that bell rings I'm going to put this hand and it's matching pair on you and I'm going to make you hurt. I'm going to show what true lengths a man will go to for victory and it will not be pretty. Again...I know you might not believe me, but the beauty is I don't care what you think. My only goal and my only mindset is putting your shoulders to the mat and getting that three count. Now you can make that easy or you can make that hard. Either way I'm going to make that happen.

(He makes a fist and quickly snaps his fingers)

Poe: Yet there's another choice Rocko. You can resist...and I'll make you tap. It's not a good choice on your part, but again...the beauty is I don't care. I'm just going to beat you and it's all that matters. I am Jarod Poe...I am the "Torture King"...your just the first step in a very long line, but I'll finally tell you what all the others and you will quickly learn.

(His hand reaches up and grabs the chain of the lamp.)

Poe: Fear what you don't understand and hate....hate what you can't conquer)

(He shuts off the light)

~ DARKNESS ~

RStrawsma
02-16-07, 12:46 AM
(The camera fades in on the darkened parking lot adjoined to the arena in Austin. It's the very early hours of morning the day after Supershow II. All is silent in the night, but the silence is soon broken as the staff entrance door to the arena swings open. Stepping out into the night air in his street clothes and carrying his gym bag at his side is Rocko Daymon, who storms into the scarcely filled parking lot with a look of absolute dismay and irritation on his face. As he nears the camera, we can hear him muttering indistinctly.)

(In the distance, a set of headlights appear. Moments later, a rental car pulls up nearby. The driver's side window lowers revealing the mocking smile of Rocko's wife, Caitlyn Daymon.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Great match, "champ."

Rocko Daymon
Hardy-har. The sooner we get out of this hell-hole, the better.

(Caitlyn pops the trunk and Daymon dumps his gym bag inside before opening the passenger side door and slipping into his seat. The car pulls off into the silent streets of Austin.)

(We fade into a later scene at the airport. Specifically, we fade in on the couple at a table outside a cafe within the airport, awaiting their departure to the next event. Daymon still bears a peeved expression, while Caitlyn entertains herself with a paperback novel.)

Rocko Daymon
Nothing but garbage... that's all I put up with.

You know, you would think that if you were scheduled to compete in a tag match, you'd at least make an effort to communicate with your partner... you know, maybe work on some strategy? I didn't even meet Chandler Maxwell until a few minutes before our match. Same thing happened when I teamed with Hiroshi...

I'll tell you one thing, that's the last time I ever lay an open challenge down in TEAM. I walked into the Supershow expecting to test my skills against another man and put on a good show for the fans in attendance. Instead, I get a garbage partner and garbage opponents... nothing but slackers who want to make an easy paycheck by appearing on TV...

Caitlyn Daymon
If you're done moaning over some tedious match that holds no bearing on the span of your career, I have something that might interest you.

Rocko Daymon
Oh yeah?

(Caitlyn reaches into her purse and pulls out a sealed envelope.)

Caitlyn Daymon
The line-up for the second annual TEAM Invitational Tournament has finally been released.

Rocko Daymon
That's the best news I've heard all damn day! Let's see what we have to look forward to...

(Rocko, beaming with anticipation, tears the envelope open and pulls out the letter revealed the line-up. His eyes nearly bug out of his head.)

Rocko Daymon
Wow! Looks like everybody and their brother wanted a part in this tournament. I guess TEAM is letting in just about anybody who claims to be a professional wrestler these days...

More entrants mean more steps I have to take to be the man on top.

Caitlyn Daymon
You think you have what it takes to win this year?

Rocko Daymon
I wouldn't have signed up if I doubted my ability to accomplish the task. No doubt, it will be a great challenge... and with all these new entrants, you can expect there to be a level playing ground this time around.

Let's see who my first opponent is...

(He reads.)

Rocko Daymon
"The Torture King" Jarod Poe.

(His eyes visibly roll.)

Rocko Daymon
My, that's original. Any word from this guy yet.

(Caitlyn reaches into her purse again and withrdraws a tape recorder. Wordlessly, Rocko takes it from her hand and presses the play button.)

The Voice of Jarod Poe
I'm not going to bore you with talk Rocko. I'm a very direct person. I don't know who you are...and I damn sure don't care who you are. Further more you don't know who I am....and don't think for a minute you'll even fathom the man you’re going to be stepping into the ring with.

Rocko Daymon
This should be good...

(His voice is laced with sarcasm. We fade yet again into a later scene, this time in the waiting area near the gate. Through the large windows against the far wall we can see numerous planes being taxied into various ports. Further still, the sun rises. Daymon sits alone on a bench, the tape player held near his ear.)

The Voice of Jarod Poe
Fear what you don't understand and hate... hate what you can't conquer.

(The tape ends, and Daymon hits the stop button.)

Rocko Daymon
In nine years of professional wrestling, I've sat and listened to numerous opponents preach about fire and brimstone... about pain and fear and all those scary things normal society deems taboo.

And this right here?

(He holds up the recorder for the camera to see.)

Rocko Daymon
This isn't anything different. This isn't anything I have overcome in the past, and it hardly compares to the really scary **** I've seen in this industry.

(Rocko sets the recorder aside and turns directly to the camera.)

Rocko Daymon
Sadly for you, Jarod Poe... I'm not quite so direct. And, I hate to admit, I have been known to bore people to sleep from time to time. This is mostly due to the fact that people are only interested in what the want to hear, and sometimes the truth isn't always what people want. Regardless, my talent isn't debate; I thump skulls and win matches.

You see, Jarod... we have a shared trait in our mutual apathy for each other. You don't care who I am, what I've accomplished, or what I'm capable of doing... and likewise, I could care less about you. But what separates us is our motivation.

You see, I don't care about you because I see you as nothing but an obstacle in my path. You are my stepping stone to the next tier in this invitational tournament. Once I've put you down for three seconds, I'll move on and never look back... and chances are we may never cross paths again. You and I can be happy for that.

You, on the other hand... you don't care about me because I don't fit into your self-contained world of pain and hate and torment and agony.

Naturally, how could I know anything about your immense suffering? How could anybody know? But of course, they're nothing but sheep... brainless fools that eat up whatever the media puts in front of them. But you... you understand everything, don't you? Because your pain and torment are greatest of all. So naturally that means you are the one who will win, just because you say you will.

(Rocko shakes his head with a tsk-tsk.)

Rocko Daymon
But not everybody lives in your fantasy world. Especially not me.

Simply put, you're nothing but a narcissistic attention whore who thinks his pain is the most out of everybody else in the world, and you don't care about me because I don't buy the bullcrap.

You think you stand outside the circle? You think you know all and have seen all just because of the trauma in your life? I've heard the speech a dozen times before, amigo... from countless angsty, manic-depressive bums just like you. All of you are alike. You always think you're the center of the world. You always think you're the only one who has ever suffered. You always talk about pain, hate, fear, and all those nasty things. It might be enough to scare some hick fans in the Midwest, but I'm far from impressed.

Unfortunately for you, this isn't the Jarod Poe Show... and you aren't the only star stepping into the ring at University Park. Because you don't care, you've rendered yourself ignorant of what's in store for you when it comes time for us to fight, and should you continue to have a lack of interest in who your opponent is and what he can do to you in that ring, then I can't ensure you're in for a good night.

Don't get me wrong... I'm not suggesting you haven't suffered. But what makes you think I haven't, Jarod?

(Daymon pulls up his sleeve on his right arm, revealing scars from his troublesome years as a heroin abuser. Normally, these are hidden beneath his elbow pads in the ring.)

Rocko Daymon
I don't like having to show this, Jarod... but year after year, I find myself rolling this sleeve up more and more. It's because every now and again, I cross paths with some wise guy, drunk of his own self-infatuated ego, who thinks he's suffered more in life than I have.

Many men in this tournament have walked long hard roads in their respective lives. But you, Jarod... you've never looked beyond the boundaries of your own drama to see the suffering of others. Then you go on to believe that you're the only one, and that makes you think you're the man who will win this thing.

(With a sober face, he rolls down his sleeve.)

Rocko Daymon
But there are over five dozen other wrestlers in this thing who all think the same thing. Every man thinks he's the "only one of his kind." Every man thinks he has something to prove. I was like that, once.

A year ago, I entered the first Invitational Tournament with high hopes. Back then, the tournament carried a lot of heavy hitters and favorites. It was my goal to overcome all those that stood in my way... and to prove that I could wrestle at their level, and better.

(He shakes his head.)

Rocko Daymon
But I was wrong.

I was sent home humbled... humiliated... and worst of all, having proven nothing. But with that loss I gained a valuable lesson. I realized then that I was taking the wrong approach to this game. I was too busy fixated on looking up at the level of all those heavy hitters and favorites. I wanted to be them, but at the same time failed to realize that I was trying to be something other than myself.

I realized that if I spent my entire career looking up, then I would only be acknowledging that I was below their level.

So since that miserable failure in the first Invitational Tournament, I've taken a different approach to professional wrestling. I no longer see opponents at different levels, nor do I recognize fame and reputation. I tear away all the meaningless glitz and glam that surrounds a professional wrestler, whether it be a legend or a curtain jerker. I see the core of that wrestler... the man within.

With that perspective, I fight on a level playing field. I see nobody below or above me. That way, there is nothing for them to prove to me... and I have nothing to prove to them.

Not surprisingly, I’ve done quite well under this new philosophy.

I don't need to make threats or promises to prove anything to you, Jarod, nor do I expect to prove anything to you. I live and work by this philosophy: Walk into that ring, do you thing, and walk out with the results you want. If he didn't see it coming, then that's his dumbass fault for not recognizing the signs and preparing for them. Too bad.

You want to walk into this tournament and prove yourself better than the rest. There are many like you. What makes me different is that I don't feel I have anything to prove to anyone. If you don't care enough to see what I can do in that ring, then you shouldn't be surprised when I excel your every expectation.

But the beauty of it is... you don't care.

(Rocko chuckles slightly.)

Rocko Daymon
That's okay, Jarod. I don't expect you to care, nor do I expect you to understand. I, like you, know you won't believe a word I say.

But unfortunately for you, I've made a career out of exploiting opponents who lacked the understanding of what they were up against, and putting them on their backs. Because you live inside your own little world of pain and torment, you fail to grasp the big picture...

This tournament, Jarod... is about more than just you and your pain. Wrestlers from all over the globe have come to TEAM to test their might. I don't necessarily consider myself different from any of them... but I will do what I do best night after night, until I find myself in the finals.

You, on the other hand... you seem more interested in showing how all your suffering sets you apart from the rest. Your personal goals are tedious in the grand scale of events that will transpire in a single night. You’re the garbage, like Maxwell, and Cruise, and Hiroshi, who is here simply because he can be, rather than because he wants to be.

I, on the other hand… I’ve waited an entire year for this tournament. I’ve waited all that time for another chance to get back in that ring and make up for my past mistakes. If there’s anything I have to prove, it’s not that I’m better than anybody else. I must prove to everyone that I am a changed man… a better man.

You couldn’t understand my determination, Jarod, nor do I think you would care about that either. But if you think for one second that I’m going to let anybody stand in my way, much less some angst-filled drama addict who thinks he’s the cream of the crop because he stole his last name from Edgar Allen like all the other goth kids in the world, you’ve got another thing coming.

It took many years of perseverance, pain, and disappointment to understand what it meant to be a professional wrestler. After all those years, I’m ready to step up and claim what I’ve worked so hard for my entire life.

I don't need fancy gimmicks and a dozen signature moves to get the job done. Just one move is all I need to drill your head into the mat and set your shoulders down for three seconds. Then you can happily drag your sorry hide back to whatever backwater hell-hole you came out of and revel in your pain and agony and sorrow and all the voices in your head.

In the meantime, the professional wrestlers will already be moving on in this tournament, showing the fans what true legends are made of.

(The PA system comes alive in the airport.)

Announcer
Now boarding Flight 385, Austin to Philedelphia.

(Caitlyn Daymon re-enters the frame, holding in her hands a bag full of knick-knacks from a gift shop.)

Caitlyn Daymon
That's us.

Rocko Daymon
Onward to the first challenge, then... but not the last.

(Rocko hands his wife the ticket as he grabs his gym bag and follows her through the gate. As the passengers board the plane, we fade to black.)

Devil666
02-17-07, 10:22 PM
(The sun shines brightly on a warm Detroit day. Inside Motor City tattoos the buzz of needles and its practitioners are busy working. The camera rolls past the numerous chairs till it spots a familiar cobwebbed hand of a man sitting down, his face masked by the bright sunlight. The camera lowers to see the needle pierce the webbing of his skin and the piercer slides one last metallic claw through the skin. He holds his hand up reflecting the sunlight of the five metallic claws and you can hear a slight chuckle of pleasure. The two men exchange a few words and then Jarod Poe Leans forward. His hair is cut short military style, there is a good growth of beard on his hardened face. He forces a smile, because it's expected. He points a finger at the camera and speaks)

Poe: I find people funny sometimes. I've been all around this world. I've meet wise men and I've meet cowards. Killers, saints, and hell even a few people that considered themselves gods, yet it's the fools that always put a smile on my face. It's the fool who never really realizes how much trouble he is in...Until it's much too late. Sadly in my past that usually ended a man's life, but for you Rocko. Well your foolish assumption will just get your shoulders pinned...1...2...3.

(He stands up and the light no longer covers his entire face. He stares coldly at the camera and it zooms in to notice the metal cross-hair that's been surgically implanted in his eye, He winks at the cameraman still focused on his implant)

Poe: You see Rocko...you didn't take time to watch and listen. I didn't show my face before, because I knew that lesser men would jump to the same conclusions that you did. Ah, but I gave you much...much more credit then you deserved. I mean there you are, walking away from the arena. A grown man throwing a childish fit, while momma finally has to calm you down. I wonder if before the airport if Caitlyn gave you something to suck on until the crying stopped.

(He again forces a smile and a chuckle leaves his mouth)

Poe: Perhaps then...you would have had time to think. Would have had time to learn about the man your stepping into the ring with. Would have known that my lifestyle is not something I made up, it’s not a gimmick to get the attention of others. Oh...no if anything it's a personal choice that barely keeps me sane from day-to-day. You see I don't think I'm the center of the world. Hell I'm hardly the center of my own world. I only wish I felt the pain you assume I'm in.

(He pauses fro a moment a that pleasant thought)

Poe: No on the contrary Rocko...I've been numb too the world for so long that the sheer promise of pain is something to run full speed ahead into. Hell if you really think you can provide it Rocko...then I'm the man who will in brace it. That's why I'm in wrestling. Sure it doesn't pay like some of my previous jobs, but if you’re really the baddest thing I'm going to run into in this business...then my future...

(He surprisingly laughs loudly)

Poe: for once is looking bright. A fact that hasn't been true since I left high school. See I didn't just pull my name out of a hat. I know Jarod Poe might not sound too original. It's not Rocko, but it's the best my father John and my mother Wendy came up with. I was Jarod Poe the day I was born. I was Jarod Poe the day I graduated and in the military I was Ranger. Jarod Poe. I didn't just think this up and I only wish I could wave a magic wand and make my past go away. Sadly I'll be Jarod Poe till the day I die for good.

(He walks forward skidding his hand over a glass case filled with body mods. The camera zooms down the spot a horse shoe shape implanted underneath his skin. He taps his fingers studying the implants while he talks)

Pie: Yet I think the height of your ignorance Rocko was when you said that I hadn't seen the suffering of others in this world. WOW!!! Now that was the one and true bold statement you actually made. It was wrong like your other assumptions Rocko...it was grossly wrong. My God...I only wish I could forget the suffering I've seen. From the horror of watching mass graves dug up...to the pleasure I got from killing the men that filled them in the first place. I've seen the worlds suffering. I've seen children missing limbs...forced to watch their parents killed and then fight for a cause they don’t even know about instead of facing the same fate. That Rocko...that is only a small portion of what put the demons in my dreams at night. Yet while I'll admit I'm not alone...the one thing...the one thing that separates you and me Rocko is I've never run from my demons.

(Having studied the case his finger taps heavily on the glass. The man behind the counter removes a tray filled with surgical screws and Jarod nods with approval)

Poe: No...I've felt the pain of others...felt my own...and it’s left me numb to the world Rocko. But I never took the coward’s way out. But you did...I saw it the minute you rolled up your sleeve. I see why you don't do that very often Rocko. You flash it as some sort of badge of honor. Yet to a man like me it’s a white flag of surrender. Somewhere and at some point in your life....things just became too hard for you. You couldn't handle your life, but all these problems disappear as soon as the needle went through your skin. All that pressure replaced by the burning in your veins.

(He shakes his head and wags his finger. TSK! TSK!)

Poe Now that's something I've seen a hundred times before Rocko...men who couldn't stand the pain...stand the reality...stand the horror of their own lives. I bet next I'll hear some sob story about how you got better and triumphed to become a champion. Well save it for your grandchildren...because you know I don't care.

(He stands up straight and looks coldly into the camera again)

Poe Yet you were right about one thing Rocko. You are a professional wrestler...A man who has spent years in the ring. I on the other hand and just a wrestler. A ground and pound submission master that has fought from Russia to Ahbu Dahbi. I don't fear you or the thump to the head your promise. In fact I look forward to our match...Because nothing puts a smile on my face more then watching a fool being lead to his slaughter.

(He picks up his heavy leather jacket and places it over his shoulder. He starts heading for the door, but pauses to take one more look at the camera)

Poe: I said fear what you don't understand Rocko. I just hope you don't get so scared of what your assumptions have gotten you into, I'd hate to be the man that sends you chasing the dragon again, but we are all stepping stones Rocko. It's just when the bell rings...I'm going to put my boot right on your throat. And as I watch with pleasure as the light fades from your eyes. I'll show you more mercy then you ever gave yourself. Until then...I'll be in the wind

(He opens the door and steps out into the bright sunlight. Moments later the sound of loud car engine can be heard starting)

<FTB>

RStrawsma
02-18-07, 06:32 PM
Rocko Daymon
Fear what you don’t understand, you say… and hate what you don’t fear. But you have yet to realize that the reason I DON’T fear you is BECAUSE I understand you.

No matter how illogical that sounds in your own self-infatuated little world, that is true.

(We open up in the city hosting half of the matches in the Boston bracket of the TEAM Invitational Tournament: University Park, the home of Penn State University. Midday outside of the Bryce Jordan Center, a red rental car pulls into a spot in the parking lot. The driver’s side door opens and Rocko Daymon steps out, in street clothes and sunglasses. His shaded eyes look skyward as he takes in a deep breath and smiles.)

Rocko Daymon
Always a great vibe here at Penn State U. I have to remember to see if I can get Joe Paterno’s autograph before I leave here.

(On the passenger side of the car appears Caitlyn Daymon, who goes to the trunk to take the luggage and heads into the arena. Daymon moves off into the campus and finds a bench to sit on and look over the mostly snow-covered school grounds.)

Rocko Daymon
I understand a great deal more than you know, Jarod… or at least more than you’d like to know.

You see, with every promo you, cut you like to drop a lot of fancy words and sayings… things like “assumptions” and “understand” and “fool”. Yet I really wonder if you know the definitions of the words you speak.

Even worse, you lace these misinterpreted terms with overly-poetic and cliché euphemisms, that pop out of you like fortunes from a gimmicky prophet arcade.

(Daymon pulls out of his jacket a tablet of paper, on which are quotes written from Jarod Poe’s last promo.)

Rocko Daymon
“I'm going to put my boot right on your throat. And as I watch with pleasure as the light fades from your eyes.”

“From the horror of watching mass graves dug up...to the pleasure I got from killing the men that filled them in the first place.”

“I've been numb too the world for so long that the sheer promise of pain is something to run full speed ahead into.”

(He shakes his head as this tablet goes back into his coat.)

Rocko Daymon
You just get off on hearing yourself say that **** to people on a daily basis, don’t you? And why not? It’s part of your character. Sometimes I wonder if most of what you say is stripped from script material you had written years in advance.

But that pretty much sums up your entire life, doesn’t it? You’ve been living by the same script all these years, walking from one painful experience to the next, all toward a goal as nameless and vague as the man that walks the path. That’s your path, Jarod… that’s your gimmick.

You claim that you are who you are, and not any gimmick living by any script. But that’s a lie, isn’t it? Of course you live by a gimmick. Everybody has one in this business, otherwise it’d be too boring for the paying fans. Hell, even I have a gimmick, in being the man who claims to carry no gimmick! I guess that makes me a hypocrite, but lately, I’ve wondered if that word has become synonymous with “winner.”

But because your gimmick has been nothing but a nightmare, you have to shut yourself off from reality and develop your own truth. And then you come by people in this world who choose not to believe your reality, so you label them “fools”… nothing but sheep with the wool pulled over their eyes. They don’t know the real truth though… your truth, I should say. You think everything they say is based off a false assumption.

(Daymon chuckles lightly as he removes his sunglasses. His stone-like dark eyes seem to shake the camera.)

Rocko Daymon
It’s that assumption I make that leads me to victory each and every time. It’s because my opponent thinks I don’t understand… when in fact I do, and because they can’t accept that fact they choose to ignore it. You see, Jarod… while you might accuse me of making assumptions, you seem to have completely forgotten about your own mistake of ignorance.

You’ve ignored your opponent.

I’ve been in this sport for nearly a decade. In that time, I’ve made a living on understanding people. You can’t really say I don’t understand you, Jarod, since you don’t fully understand everything I’ve been through in my career. Would you like to take a guess as to how many opponents I’ve beaten in the ring gave the same, “Oh no, Rocko. I’m REALLY different from all those you’ve beaten. You REALLY don’t understand my pain. In fact, YOU’RE the one being ignorant! You don’t KNOW what I’m capable of, but will learn when the bell rings, and the rest will learn soon enough.”

I’ve fought you many times before, Jarod… only every time I fought you, you maybe had a different name and face. But you’re all the same up here…

(He points to his temple.)

Rocko Daymon
…and you all preach the same self-centered bull****, about pain, fear, hate… how you know everything, and because other people out there see beyond things like pain, fear, and hate, and catch a glimpse of the man beneath, you call them “fools” when they choose not to play along with your self-contrived fantasy.

You call me a “fool” as though it were just another one of your petty insults… though it may surprise you to hear that I welcome that accusation with open arms. In fact, I consider it to be a compliment.

I’ll openly admit I’m a fool the most of the time. And I’m damn proud of it. I boldly step into that ring with blind determination, focused on the single goal of victory. I walk right into the middle of the cleverly-lain trap my opponents set, and I overcome their every expectation, all because of one truth they never thought of…

A fool knows no fear. As such, there are no limits to his actions. He goes all out in that ring and puts every last ounce of his strength into achieving his goal. I bet you’d be surprised to see how far a human being can go, Jarod, when a man is dead set on his goal, like I’m dead set on winning this tournament.

You can put your foot down on my throat and choke the life out of me, if you wish… but that doesn’t mean you’ll win this match. I’d love to see the look on your face as I spit in your eye from the floor.

There’s an old saying my father used to tell me: “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog.” As such, what determines whether the fool reaches his goal is determined on how badly he wants it. I look past all your pain and hate, Jarod, and see the man that lies beneath. You may be hardened, but I wonder if you’re wise. Moreover, I wonder if your apathy has deprived you of motivation. Do you really think you have it in you to pull through everything I can put you through?

More importantly, do you think you want it more than I do?

Like I said before, Jarod… I’ve been waiting a year for this opportunity to come back after a disappointing loss at the first Invitational Tournament. You’ve simply walked in off the street like so many others… wanting to make an easy paycheck by having your face splashed on screen. But deep inside, you could care less as to how far you make it in this tournament.

(A smile spreads on his face.)

Rocko Daymon
And that right there separates the winner from the loser in this equation. This difference between us is that, as you admitted, you are numb to the bone from all the pain you’ve gone through. You admitted to not caring about me or my thoughts, though ironically you paid them mind enough to respond to them. I even come to wonder if you even care enough to win this match.

I, however, still feel pain… physical and emotional. Disappointment, frustration, irritation... I show these things leaving the arena after a loss out of love for the sport.

Pain can be a useful thing, Jarod. You can harness the energy brought from pain. You can use it to your advantage. It’s been the secret to my success for many years… and I’m sure it’s done the same for you.

Take the marks on my arm…

(Daymon doesn’t roll up his sleeve this time around. He simply rubs that area on his right arm. His gaze grows stern.)

Rocko Daymon
I don’t consider them any badge of honor, Jarod. It’s a taint… a mark I carry as a constant reminder of just how stupid a man can get at his lowest point. You think you scare me, punk? I fear no pain promised by any man, because I withstood the greatest pain imaginable from the worst foe imaginable: myself.

I never expected people to pat me on the back and congratulate me for tearing the skeletons out of my closet. But the fact remains, I overcame these demons. I stared death in the face and prevailed. These days, I shed myself of anger and pain by putting punks like you into the mat and reminded people day by day what it means to be a true professional wrestler.

You, on the other hand… your suffering has pushed you to the point of apathy. Apathy has naturally brought you to ignorance. It is only fitting that for your ignorance you shall suffer again, and so the miserable cycle continues, like a never-ending script. I suppose your life’s greatest ambition is to be crucified in the most cliché form, a symbolic tragedy to a supposedly tragic man.

You can sit there and call me a coward for my dependency… and I won’t argue with you on that. I was a coward. But could you know the feeling of being bound by these shackles of self-hate and self-torture, only to dig so far into yourself to find the strength to break free that it nearly kills you? Could you fathom that strength, put into the ring? At least I’m human enough to regret, and not numb and careless like you. My mistakes lead to more pain, which leads to more strength.

No longer am I the coward. Like the man I claim to be, I learned from my mistakes, and used that knowledge to mold myself into one of the best competitors this sport has ever seen. The pain of drug addiction is now a thing of the past.

(Daymon rises from the bench and heads back toward the arena. A banner hanging outside the entrance shows all of the wrestling stars that will be in attendance during the show. Rocko looks at the banner and sighs.)

Rocko Daymon
You know what my pain is now, Jarod? It’s seeing the state of professional wrestling by today’s standards. It’s seeing idiots like Maxwell, Cruise, and Hiroshi step into the ring and disgrace this sport by being a bunch of hacks. All they want is fame… or, in your case, they just want people to take notice of their great, all-encompassing scheme.

My pain is seeing the future of the industry being represented by punks like you, Jarod.

But my pain is my strength… and your tolerance to pain shall be your folly.

That’s why I’m in this tournament. That’s why later this week, in this very arena, you and I will meet, and I will show you as I have shown dozens of others what it means to be a true professional wrestler. By beating you and moving further in this tournament, I will remind the audience in attendance and the millions watching at home what a real man can be in the ring.

I’m not going to sit back and watch this industry fall into the hands of piss-poor gimmicks like yourself. Not after spending the past nine years of my life busting my ass to shape it into something that matters.

If all you’ve got against me are a few petty insults like “fool” and “child” and “coward”, then you only show that you haven’t the slightest clue for what’s in store for you, because you’ve willingly ignored it.

I don’t promise you any pain, Jarod, as you’re surely numb to it, as you say. Rather, I promise surprise… something you’ll undoubtedly feel as you lie on your back, unable to rise.

(Zipping up his jacket, Rocko Daymon turns to the arena and walks inside. Fade to black.)

Devil666
02-19-07, 12:44 AM
(Backstage is always hectic. Despite being alone in his dressing room the walls echo with confusing as Jarod Poe sits on a worn wooden bench and unzips his duffel bag. He carelessly dumps out the contents onto the floor and scatters them around with his bare foot. Unknowingly he's on camera he finally looks up to notice the camerman Jarod gives him a knowing nod to advance in further. He sits bare chested his upper torso riddled with tattoos. He sits ready in basic black leather pants for the ring tonight. He looks up the stubble from a few days ago cleanly shaven off. He as usual forces a smile as the looks up staring at the crosshair implanted in his eye)

Poe: Rocko...Rocko...I'm so glad the hour is near. You know last night I tried to really listen to you. I sat back and played your words over and over. I shut my eyes hoping that not having the picture of your over confident grin in my face would allow your speech to sink in. Yet all it did was put me to sleep faster. You really do like to hear yourself talk don't you Rocko? There is a constant nervous undertone that you'd expect to hear from a reformed junkie.

(He smiles and nods his head)

Poe: Yeah...we are what we are. Yet as I fell into slumber I did not dream of you. No...Instead I dreampt the same horrid dream I've been living for the past few years. Maybe it's all the death...all the destruction...or maybe it was just the pizza, but there he was again. The great black shadow that stalks me in my sleep. I call him The Beast, because no other word does him justice. I try and fight him off, but every night...run and hide as much as I can....he always tracks me down. His powerful claw pin me to the ground and just as I expect death to come.

(Jarod snaps his fingers loudly)

Poe: It's all gone and I'm awake. I'm drenched with sweat from my nightmare with the one thought he has given me. Victim. He needs a victim, Rocko...he needs a man to suffer so that he will leave me alone. Evem If it is only for one night and what you might ask does this have to do with you Rocko? Well it's simple...your his victim...my victim. You’re the sacrifice that will keep the beast happy and in his own slumber...at least for awhile. Till it grows hungry again and I'll either need to feed him or sacrifice myself.

(He stares coldly into the camera his blue eyes looking ahead)

Poe: I'm not going to sacrifice myself. See you made assumptions about me Rocko and despite my best to set you straight. Well you've plowed headlong into a whole other batch. You think for me this is just some gimmick. That I'm just a character, fleshed out from watching books and TV. What you don't realize and I am Jarod Poe. Born and raised...you've ignored the concrete facts and just shaped the lesser one to help harden your own argument. I'd expect nothing less from a reformed drug user. Yet I expected more from a man who want to win this tournament. I'll give you the facts one more time Rocko and if you choose to make more assumptions then I guess only your own downfall can set you straight.

(He reaches down and grabs his right boot, after placing his foot inside he begins lacing up and talks away)

Poe: See Rocko...you’ve heard me say that I don't care what you say. That I don't care about you, but you assume that also means I've ignored you.

(He shakes his head and mocks a frown onto his lips)

Poe: Oh...Rocko...you've missed the biggest fact of all. You see there were two key words...in fact THE only two words of mine you didn't repeat or go over. It's the fact I was once Ranger Poe. Yes Rocko in my past I was an Army Ranger. I was the best of the best. I was trained to do one thing and do it very well: that's killing for my country. I take being sent of to war just as serious as getting into the ring. Oh I haven't ignored you Rocko...I just don't care about you. Just like I didn't care about the dozens of men I placed my gun sigths on. They were all in the same position that you are right now...they were my NEXT TARGET!!!

(Again he snaps his fingers loudly and it echoes off the blank cement walls)

Poe: I didn't care about them when I pulled the trigger Rocko, but I wasn't foolish enough to not have a plan. No I studied them...tracked...used their own faults against them and then when they least expected it.

(He cocks his hand like a gun and fires a shot)

Poe: POW!!! They were dead were they stood and that's the approach I've taken with you. I might not care about you Rocko, but unlike you...I am no fool. I just wonder if you'll have the same look on your face after getting your shoulders pinned to the mat that thre others before you did when the bullet struck bone.

(He smiles wide at the pleasant thought)

Poe: and it doesn't matter what the size of the fight in you is in you Rocko...just like horses...they shoot dogs too. Yet it doesn't end there...does it.

(He leans down and starts to work on his other boot still continuing to talk)

Poe: You assume again that I don't have a desire like you. That just because I haven't sat back on failure for a year like you have, that I don't have the same desire. That my lack of caring and being numb to the world will set me back. Well your wrong....again you've assumed and you’re amazingly a bigger ass for it. See I've told you about my beast. I've told you that he needs to be feed, that he needs a victim and that's you Rocko. Your defeat will let me sleep well at night; your defeat will lead me to my next victim. Your defeat will take me to the success you've never had.

(He looks up and smiles)

Poe: Plus there is a cash bonus for the victor and Rocko...despite being cold...calculating and numb to the world...I DO STILL HAVE MY PRIDE!!!! But you have yours too...and a whole hell of a lot of it.

(He retrieves some athletic tape and begins taping the knuckles of his left hand)

Poe: You believe your past as a junkie is just that...all in the past. But believe me Rocko...I know better then that. With every set back you have the temptation. Something doesn't go your way...do the veins still burn? Or do you just get a dull ache? No all that pain and suffering you accuse me of molding into fact is just the denial you've used to help overcome yours Rocko. See I've got the same pain and destruction you once had, yet I'm able you do something with it you never could Rocko...I'm able to focus it. To channel it. All you ever could do was shoot-up and run from it. Well you can continue to run after of match is over, but when that bell rings you’re going to have to face the thing that seems to bother you the most.

(He switches hands and starts to wrap his fingers)

Poe: It's the state of wrestling as you see it. You’ve come along way to make it too the top, what was it now...nine years? You've been sober and successful. Yet like any man with such tragic past flaws you see it all slipping away. Us punks as you called me. We're destroying your well balanced world. A world you and your sobriety have worked so hard to carve out. Well Rocko you can't stop time. Sooner or later it all catches up with us. Wrestling will go on. I know you deny it. You’re so far in you can't separate me...the man from the hundreds of phonies you've fought before.

(He looks up and shrugs his shoulders)

Poe: Yet I am a real man...and what you see is no gimmick. I am the "Torture King" Jarod Poe. I am a world class wrestler. Not too mention a mean and miserable bastard. You've denied that facts for far too long Rocko and only with a ringing of the bell tonight will you finally see the truth. My inner beast needs a victim. You've made the assumption that I'm not the man I say I am. Well your wrong and in a few hours you'll remember the very words I told you once before, because they will ring in your defeated ears. You've made so many assumptions about me...you truly don't understand ...and in that lies the truth of what I've said

(He stands and spreads his arms out like he's nailed to a crucifix)

Poe: Fear what you don't understand and hate...hate what you can't conquer

(He forces a sarcastic smile and turns his back to the camera)

<FTB>