TBirdSCIL
League Member
Please keep all RP for this match in this folder...
Anarky vs. Cameron Cruise
- Thread starter TBirdSCIL
- Start date
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 43
Proving Grounds
(FADEIN to the outside of a club in Boston, Massachusetts. There's a long line of people waiting to get in. The camera pans away from the club across the street, where Anarky sits on top of what seems to be a deserted building, his legs dangling over the front. Nobody seems to notice that he's up there, and that seems to suit him just fine. He's wearing the usual leather jacket and plain clothes with a Nine Inch Nails "Fragility Tour" t-shirt.)
ANARKY: "When one begins a conquest towards a championship, one must always keep the goal in mind. Even when it seems that insurmountable challenges lie ahead, or that the goal itself may actually be unattainable. You got that, Cameron? Maybe you should be writing this down. Just write down a little one with a period next to it, and then write down KEEP GOAL IN MIND.
"Got that, Cam? Can I call you that? Let's hope so. But this is gonna be a bargain special for you, Cam. I'm gonna throw in two for the price of one. Step two, Cam... are you writing this down? Step two... is to know your opponent. Yes, I know. It seems obvious, right? But it isn't. It isn't enough to jump to wild conclusions. It isn't enough to listen to them talk about their past. You must understand their motivations. You must find what drives them. And you must destroy it. Without that, you will never be anything more than passed by. You will be another no-name pretender."
(He stops speaking and looks down at the people waiting in line.)
ANARKY: "You see them there, Cam? They're all followers. They are all desperately seeking the affection that their conformity will give them. They all need to fit in. Originality suffocates them. Just like here, Cam. The more you speak the truth, the more they hate you. They throw garbage at me and spit at me and scream for my blood... yet they call me evil. They call me a monster. I'm the one who puts his body on the line for them. I'm the one who gives them what they want, and they hate me for it. But I don't resent them, Cam. Because I understand... that they are the masses. They want only the blood spilled. They want only to feel sated when they walk home. They need to feel secure that the good guys have made sure that everything's okay and that the madman has been stopped.
"But this isn't a fairy tale, Cam. Sometimes, the bad guy DOES win. Sometimes, people don't live happily ever after. Sometimes, Cam, people's careers get destroyed in that ring. One false move... one bad spot... and it's over. A life of agony. Hardly worth living at all."
(Anarky stands up on the edge of the roof, teetering ever-so-closely to the edge, giving the viewer a sense of vertigo.)
ANARKY: "We are all inches from the end, Cam. We are all playing delicately with our own lives, as well as the lives of others. And yet... there are so few who would dare to speak the truth. There are so few who would call a spade a spade. I am one of those few, Cam. And whether or not you respect it or even care for it, you will deal with it. Maybe you will rise to the occassion. Perhaps you will find a way to fuel yourself into what will surely for a ring of torture for yourself.
"Or... perhaps... you will just be another sacrifice. Perhaps you will fall where the others have fallen... where they sought the truth, but once the found it, realized it wasn't what they wanted. Nobody likes the truth, Cam. Nobody likes reality. But reality's got a way of rearing its ugly head anyway.
"Chaos is descending upon the GLCW, Cam... one man at a time. And you can either descend with me... or you can fight it. But either way, Cam... either way, you've got something to prove. And I've got something to destroy. And that... is... beautiful."
(FADEOUT as he smiles simply... eerily.)
(FADEIN to the outside of a club in Boston, Massachusetts. There's a long line of people waiting to get in. The camera pans away from the club across the street, where Anarky sits on top of what seems to be a deserted building, his legs dangling over the front. Nobody seems to notice that he's up there, and that seems to suit him just fine. He's wearing the usual leather jacket and plain clothes with a Nine Inch Nails "Fragility Tour" t-shirt.)
ANARKY: "When one begins a conquest towards a championship, one must always keep the goal in mind. Even when it seems that insurmountable challenges lie ahead, or that the goal itself may actually be unattainable. You got that, Cameron? Maybe you should be writing this down. Just write down a little one with a period next to it, and then write down KEEP GOAL IN MIND.
"Got that, Cam? Can I call you that? Let's hope so. But this is gonna be a bargain special for you, Cam. I'm gonna throw in two for the price of one. Step two, Cam... are you writing this down? Step two... is to know your opponent. Yes, I know. It seems obvious, right? But it isn't. It isn't enough to jump to wild conclusions. It isn't enough to listen to them talk about their past. You must understand their motivations. You must find what drives them. And you must destroy it. Without that, you will never be anything more than passed by. You will be another no-name pretender."
(He stops speaking and looks down at the people waiting in line.)
ANARKY: "You see them there, Cam? They're all followers. They are all desperately seeking the affection that their conformity will give them. They all need to fit in. Originality suffocates them. Just like here, Cam. The more you speak the truth, the more they hate you. They throw garbage at me and spit at me and scream for my blood... yet they call me evil. They call me a monster. I'm the one who puts his body on the line for them. I'm the one who gives them what they want, and they hate me for it. But I don't resent them, Cam. Because I understand... that they are the masses. They want only the blood spilled. They want only to feel sated when they walk home. They need to feel secure that the good guys have made sure that everything's okay and that the madman has been stopped.
"But this isn't a fairy tale, Cam. Sometimes, the bad guy DOES win. Sometimes, people don't live happily ever after. Sometimes, Cam, people's careers get destroyed in that ring. One false move... one bad spot... and it's over. A life of agony. Hardly worth living at all."
(Anarky stands up on the edge of the roof, teetering ever-so-closely to the edge, giving the viewer a sense of vertigo.)
ANARKY: "We are all inches from the end, Cam. We are all playing delicately with our own lives, as well as the lives of others. And yet... there are so few who would dare to speak the truth. There are so few who would call a spade a spade. I am one of those few, Cam. And whether or not you respect it or even care for it, you will deal with it. Maybe you will rise to the occassion. Perhaps you will find a way to fuel yourself into what will surely for a ring of torture for yourself.
"Or... perhaps... you will just be another sacrifice. Perhaps you will fall where the others have fallen... where they sought the truth, but once the found it, realized it wasn't what they wanted. Nobody likes the truth, Cam. Nobody likes reality. But reality's got a way of rearing its ugly head anyway.
"Chaos is descending upon the GLCW, Cam... one man at a time. And you can either descend with me... or you can fight it. But either way, Cam... either way, you've got something to prove. And I've got something to destroy. And that... is... beautiful."
(FADEOUT as he smiles simply... eerily.)
TSiegel
I spoil things.
Proving what?
(Fadein, Jacksonville, NC, a local pub. The camera pans around the room until it reaches the bar, finally stopping at a familiar shadow-beared man dressed in a pair of faded black jeans, black muscleshirt, and a biker jacket to keep the cold air from biting. A finger taps him on the shoulder a couple of times and finally gets his attention. Looking over his shoulder, he nods and swivels around on the bar stool.)
CRUISE: Who the hell are you? No, not you camaraman, I'm talkin' to the doofus who thinks he can stereotype with all the other lowlifes in this fed.
Anarky....Sharky....Bismark-y....Anarky.
You know me?? Not hardly. These people..(motions around the room and throws an arm around an elderly man enjoying a drink)..this guy here..they know me (raising glass to the Bartender to nods back.).
This whole TOWN, hell, this whole STATE...they know me. You don't know me. I've helped sell out more arenas than you could probably do with CANDYBARS.
(takes a sip of his drink)
You talk about conquests for championships.
You talk about fables Happy Ever After appearing on a consecutive basis and how society won't work that way.
You even talk about reality and how screwed up things can be without ever really noticing it.
I hear ya, I really do. However to a certain extent at that 'Nark', there's just one question I have about it.
Since when did I say anything about giving a damn? I mean, I may be a little towards alot tipsy right about now, but I do think I can remember what happened a few weeks before....
VOICE: I SURE AS HELL CAN'T!!
SECOND VOICE: AMEN TO THAT!!!
(SFX: Entire bar laughs)
CC: Never mind them. The fact of the matter is pal...I don't give a (Bleep) about belts right now. Not the TV Title, not the World Championship, and sure as hell not the Tag straps. I said to Justice coming back here and now I guess I'm gonna have to tell you:
I'm here for one reason. The boss needs me, and is willing to pay me for it.
I don't hate ya, and I don't like ya, because there sure certainly ain't a reason to.
I'm here to *WRESTLE*, plain and simple.
I don't care if you think I'm the Easter Bunny, or Satan himself.
But you sure as hell can bet that after we're done, I'm gonna have you feelin' like the Devil-God HIMSELF was in the ring.
I don't lay down.
I don't back down.
I'm comin' atcha standin' tall and just as hard as I told Justice. With every fiber this forsaken body has.
This ain't about fate, the end, or whatever else you can call something that leads to inevitability. All this is about is me an' you.
I think I can take ya.
I really do. Can I beat ya? Who knows, maybe I can.
Maybe I can't.
Maybe we both match move for move for a draw.
(takes a sip of his drink)
But I can tell ya one thing. You don't know me. You never have and probably never will. That's what I have to prove, 'Narkinator.
(Cruise swivels back toward the bar, but stops halfway.)
Oh an' by the way....no, you can't call me Cam.
(Cruise swivels back toward the bar, back to his drink and to the rest of the night.)
Fade
(Fadein, Jacksonville, NC, a local pub. The camera pans around the room until it reaches the bar, finally stopping at a familiar shadow-beared man dressed in a pair of faded black jeans, black muscleshirt, and a biker jacket to keep the cold air from biting. A finger taps him on the shoulder a couple of times and finally gets his attention. Looking over his shoulder, he nods and swivels around on the bar stool.)
CRUISE: Who the hell are you? No, not you camaraman, I'm talkin' to the doofus who thinks he can stereotype with all the other lowlifes in this fed.
Anarky....Sharky....Bismark-y....Anarky.
You know me?? Not hardly. These people..(motions around the room and throws an arm around an elderly man enjoying a drink)..this guy here..they know me (raising glass to the Bartender to nods back.).
This whole TOWN, hell, this whole STATE...they know me. You don't know me. I've helped sell out more arenas than you could probably do with CANDYBARS.
(takes a sip of his drink)
You talk about conquests for championships.
You talk about fables Happy Ever After appearing on a consecutive basis and how society won't work that way.
You even talk about reality and how screwed up things can be without ever really noticing it.
I hear ya, I really do. However to a certain extent at that 'Nark', there's just one question I have about it.
Since when did I say anything about giving a damn? I mean, I may be a little towards alot tipsy right about now, but I do think I can remember what happened a few weeks before....
VOICE: I SURE AS HELL CAN'T!!
SECOND VOICE: AMEN TO THAT!!!
(SFX: Entire bar laughs)
CC: Never mind them. The fact of the matter is pal...I don't give a (Bleep) about belts right now. Not the TV Title, not the World Championship, and sure as hell not the Tag straps. I said to Justice coming back here and now I guess I'm gonna have to tell you:
I'm here for one reason. The boss needs me, and is willing to pay me for it.
I don't hate ya, and I don't like ya, because there sure certainly ain't a reason to.
I'm here to *WRESTLE*, plain and simple.
I don't care if you think I'm the Easter Bunny, or Satan himself.
But you sure as hell can bet that after we're done, I'm gonna have you feelin' like the Devil-God HIMSELF was in the ring.
I don't lay down.
I don't back down.
I'm comin' atcha standin' tall and just as hard as I told Justice. With every fiber this forsaken body has.
This ain't about fate, the end, or whatever else you can call something that leads to inevitability. All this is about is me an' you.
I think I can take ya.
I really do. Can I beat ya? Who knows, maybe I can.
Maybe I can't.
Maybe we both match move for move for a draw.
(takes a sip of his drink)
But I can tell ya one thing. You don't know me. You never have and probably never will. That's what I have to prove, 'Narkinator.
(Cruise swivels back toward the bar, but stops halfway.)
Oh an' by the way....no, you can't call me Cam.
(Cruise swivels back toward the bar, back to his drink and to the rest of the night.)
Fade
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 43
Standing Alone
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-20-03 AT 01:10 PM (EST)](FADEIN to an Italian restaurant, filled with all types of people loudly chattering away as they eat heaping bowls of various Italian food. The camera quickly leaves the area and focuses on an inconspicuous door in the back. The door opens and the camera comes through to a poorly lit room where Anarky sits at a large oak desk, going over what appears to be the finances of the restaurant. He's oddly dressed in a suit and tie, and his longish hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He notices the camera and puts down his pen and starts clapping slowly, a broad grin sweeping across his gruff face.)
ANARKY: "Congratulations, Cam. You have really, really impressed me. Not only have you put me in my place with your remarks concerning how much you DON'T care about championships, but you've managed to impress the hell out of me. You think you can beat me, Cam? WELL GOOD FOR YOU, BUDDY. That'd make you a first, eh? I mean, up until you, every wrestler I ever faced came in KNOWING he was gonna lose. They just come in there, lie down, get pinned, and go home and screw whatever brainless groupies showed up that night."
(He smiles again, leaning back in his leather chair. He opens a drawer and pulls out a cigarette and a small, gold lighter. He sparks it up and takes a small drag, putting the lighter away and grabbing an ordinary ashtray, which he puts upon the lacquered tabletop.)
ANARKY: "Cam... and I know I can't call you that... nor do I care... I'm going to explain something to you. And it isn't because I like you, or even want you to understand. You see, I don't know anything about you. You claim to have sold out more arenas that I could with... candy bars... as much sense as that makes. Now, you obviously don't know who I am, and I'm certainly not going to explain it to you. If you want to go ask someone else, you're more than welcome, but what you DON'T know... CAN and WILL hurt you.
"But I digress, Cam. You see... as much fun as sitting there and listening to you talk is, I can't help but feel as though you missed my point. Or, you simply don't care. I spoke about the need to understand a man's motivations in order to destroy him. Yet you... you wrestle for money? To curry a favor of the boss? And you expect this will do?
"You are right about one thing, Cam. I don't know you. But I don't need to. You haven't said anything I haven't heard before. You're ready to fight? Good. You aren't going to back down? Even better. Because there's nothing more PATHETIC than a man who walks in expecting to fall."
(Without warning, he stands up and throws the ashtray against the wall, which creates an enormous thud as it hits. His eyes focus like daggers, staring through the camera.)
ANARKY: "Now Cameron... I don't know what motivates you. Maybe it's money. Maybe it's just doing a favor. But if that's all it is... if that's all you are bringing... then it won't be nearly enough. Because the man YOU are getting into the ring with... has only one desire. And it isn't MONEY. And it isn't GLORY. And it isn't even to PROVE something.
"Is it simply... to make it last. You see, Cam... I only get fifteen minutes. That's all they give me. And instead of handing me a title shot I SO RIGHTLY DESERVE, they continue to feed me bottom dwellers such as yourself. And it isn't enough to SATE MY APPETITE. You don't fight back enough. You don't want it enough. YOU DON'T NEED IT ENOUGH.
"If you want to prove something, Cam... make me bleed. Make me cry out in tortured pain. Make me SCREAM WITH DELIGHT... as I try and sift through the taste of my own blood... DO THIS FOR ME, CAMERON, BECAUSE I NEED IT NOW. I need you... to hurt me... to feel alive. And once I'm alive... and once I can feel whole... I can return the favor...
"Cam... the name is Anarky. Make fun if you will. You won't be the first, and you certainly won't be the last. But you... like all who came before you... and all who will come after... will NEVER forget the name...
" ... because once you have tasted my sweet agony... there's no going back..."
(FADEOUT.)
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-20-03 AT 01:10 PM (EST)](FADEIN to an Italian restaurant, filled with all types of people loudly chattering away as they eat heaping bowls of various Italian food. The camera quickly leaves the area and focuses on an inconspicuous door in the back. The door opens and the camera comes through to a poorly lit room where Anarky sits at a large oak desk, going over what appears to be the finances of the restaurant. He's oddly dressed in a suit and tie, and his longish hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He notices the camera and puts down his pen and starts clapping slowly, a broad grin sweeping across his gruff face.)
ANARKY: "Congratulations, Cam. You have really, really impressed me. Not only have you put me in my place with your remarks concerning how much you DON'T care about championships, but you've managed to impress the hell out of me. You think you can beat me, Cam? WELL GOOD FOR YOU, BUDDY. That'd make you a first, eh? I mean, up until you, every wrestler I ever faced came in KNOWING he was gonna lose. They just come in there, lie down, get pinned, and go home and screw whatever brainless groupies showed up that night."
(He smiles again, leaning back in his leather chair. He opens a drawer and pulls out a cigarette and a small, gold lighter. He sparks it up and takes a small drag, putting the lighter away and grabbing an ordinary ashtray, which he puts upon the lacquered tabletop.)
ANARKY: "Cam... and I know I can't call you that... nor do I care... I'm going to explain something to you. And it isn't because I like you, or even want you to understand. You see, I don't know anything about you. You claim to have sold out more arenas that I could with... candy bars... as much sense as that makes. Now, you obviously don't know who I am, and I'm certainly not going to explain it to you. If you want to go ask someone else, you're more than welcome, but what you DON'T know... CAN and WILL hurt you.
"But I digress, Cam. You see... as much fun as sitting there and listening to you talk is, I can't help but feel as though you missed my point. Or, you simply don't care. I spoke about the need to understand a man's motivations in order to destroy him. Yet you... you wrestle for money? To curry a favor of the boss? And you expect this will do?
"You are right about one thing, Cam. I don't know you. But I don't need to. You haven't said anything I haven't heard before. You're ready to fight? Good. You aren't going to back down? Even better. Because there's nothing more PATHETIC than a man who walks in expecting to fall."
(Without warning, he stands up and throws the ashtray against the wall, which creates an enormous thud as it hits. His eyes focus like daggers, staring through the camera.)
ANARKY: "Now Cameron... I don't know what motivates you. Maybe it's money. Maybe it's just doing a favor. But if that's all it is... if that's all you are bringing... then it won't be nearly enough. Because the man YOU are getting into the ring with... has only one desire. And it isn't MONEY. And it isn't GLORY. And it isn't even to PROVE something.
"Is it simply... to make it last. You see, Cam... I only get fifteen minutes. That's all they give me. And instead of handing me a title shot I SO RIGHTLY DESERVE, they continue to feed me bottom dwellers such as yourself. And it isn't enough to SATE MY APPETITE. You don't fight back enough. You don't want it enough. YOU DON'T NEED IT ENOUGH.
"If you want to prove something, Cam... make me bleed. Make me cry out in tortured pain. Make me SCREAM WITH DELIGHT... as I try and sift through the taste of my own blood... DO THIS FOR ME, CAMERON, BECAUSE I NEED IT NOW. I need you... to hurt me... to feel alive. And once I'm alive... and once I can feel whole... I can return the favor...
"Cam... the name is Anarky. Make fun if you will. You won't be the first, and you certainly won't be the last. But you... like all who came before you... and all who will come after... will NEVER forget the name...
" ... because once you have tasted my sweet agony... there's no going back..."
(FADEOUT.)
TSiegel
I spoil things.
Carpe Diem Baby....
(Fadein, a local neighborhood block. Cruise comes into view walking around the corner, dressed in a Zipper-Biker Jacket, Black Jeans, Black Shades and stops. Then, takes a sniff of the air, and the flowers from a nearby garden, and smiles.)
CRUISE: Wonderful.
Just wonderful the smell of whats in the the morning breeze.
Wonderful how fantastic the smell Roses, Violets, and Daises make when you actually stop to SMELL THEM.
It's just too bad other things can't be that way when you'd like it either.
The smell a Garbage bag may make if you leave it open to long.
The smell of an old-fashioned made pie still wafting off into the street....(Cruise smells the air once again). Karla's Mom must be bakin' some pie....I can just smell the Apples. (Cruise re-joins the promo.)
I just wish she would make something Anarky would be attracted to so he might understand just exactly what I said.
You have got to be the DUMBEST-Smart guy I know around here.
Yeah, the boss is paying me money to show up for a show...it's something we do called *GIVING A PERFORMANCE*. You should try it sometime...maybe it just might stop the boss from DUMPING it on you and actually let you EARN your keep of the night.
(Cruise begins to walk away from the Garden and snaps his fingers)
Darn, that's right you've forgotten haven't you 'Narkster? Ya know the fact that this is a BUSINESS. It's how I earn my living. Ya know, I'm not sure just what gave you the foggiest idea to start hanging from rooftops, seeing as snipers and gunners could be anywhere these days.
I don't have the time like you do to just dilly-dally like some Superhero-type when I'm not wrestling. But at the same time, I do believe in the phrase "Work now...play later."
'Cause ya see kid, I can play just like every other average man, that's fine. But when it's time to open business..(snaps fingers)..it's time to open business.
I take money from the boss to wrestle? You bet I do. Because un-like some of your other pals you've taken down....I don't get paid in biker shorts and hairline extensions. I get paid in American Currency, because that's how I pay my bills each month.
At anyrate, you must have a hearing problem, seeing as that I said..."I don't care about belts right now....". Anyman in his right mind has got to be pretty stupid if he thinks that he can just walk into an office and demand a title shot for their first match in the organization....let's just not even visit that category shall we?
If the boss believes that I'm putting foot to (bleep), like I SHOULD BE...then any offers will be taken and considered in good faith. But for some reason I slack off just below par...then and only then will I step back for another look at where I went wrong and FIX IT.
I never said I wouldn't BE a champion, Anarky, because frankly, I ain't no stinkin' Fortune teller, so I won't know whether or not I ever will be; Time will tell.
I'm sorry you haven't gotten the title shots that you've been promised, and that you deserve pal...I really am. But seein' as I'm not REALLY new around here....there isn't too much I can do about it for ya.
You wanna know what motivates me, pal? You wanna knwo about the DRIVE, that keeps me goin'? Then ask and ye shall receive.
The evidence...that you can *MAKE* it last. That's what keeps me standing. You're right, I hate when I have to wrestle punks that aren't up to par, or that are already injured...because that gives me an easy advantage.
The SATISFACTION...if you will...of knowing that I am that much BETTER than my opponent, that's the charcoal for my fire, pal.
Like you can tell me about being fed bottom-dwellers, that one almost made Keith Richards turn over in his grave and the (bleep)-ing guy isn't even DEAD YET.
You know about pain huh?? Okay, then you know what it's like to be stretched in every possible position used to make a man submit. You know about getting thrown several feet off a stage...not to mention through two tables as you go down. As a matter of fact, you could even take so much pain as to protect yourself in an I Quit Match by SOWING YOUR OWN LIPS SHUT. These are just a couple of things I've seen men do....and a couple I've done myself to others.
You want me to make you torture, suffer, and bleed in order for me to beat you?
Nope, sorry Big Boy, I can't do that. I can't do that because that goes against all I've proved time in and time out about business.
You go in, kick (bleep), and go home. You want pain? You want blood and suffering??
Then you're somethin' else freaky!!!
Whether or not I win doesn't matter to me just yet....but if it's unconsciousness you want??
(Cruise pulls off glasses and looks sternly into the camera.)
Then you've come to the right place.
(Crosses arms)
At the WRONG TIME.
Fade
(Fadein, a local neighborhood block. Cruise comes into view walking around the corner, dressed in a Zipper-Biker Jacket, Black Jeans, Black Shades and stops. Then, takes a sniff of the air, and the flowers from a nearby garden, and smiles.)
CRUISE: Wonderful.
Just wonderful the smell of whats in the the morning breeze.
Wonderful how fantastic the smell Roses, Violets, and Daises make when you actually stop to SMELL THEM.
It's just too bad other things can't be that way when you'd like it either.
The smell a Garbage bag may make if you leave it open to long.
The smell of an old-fashioned made pie still wafting off into the street....(Cruise smells the air once again). Karla's Mom must be bakin' some pie....I can just smell the Apples. (Cruise re-joins the promo.)
I just wish she would make something Anarky would be attracted to so he might understand just exactly what I said.
You have got to be the DUMBEST-Smart guy I know around here.
Yeah, the boss is paying me money to show up for a show...it's something we do called *GIVING A PERFORMANCE*. You should try it sometime...maybe it just might stop the boss from DUMPING it on you and actually let you EARN your keep of the night.
(Cruise begins to walk away from the Garden and snaps his fingers)
Darn, that's right you've forgotten haven't you 'Narkster? Ya know the fact that this is a BUSINESS. It's how I earn my living. Ya know, I'm not sure just what gave you the foggiest idea to start hanging from rooftops, seeing as snipers and gunners could be anywhere these days.
I don't have the time like you do to just dilly-dally like some Superhero-type when I'm not wrestling. But at the same time, I do believe in the phrase "Work now...play later."
'Cause ya see kid, I can play just like every other average man, that's fine. But when it's time to open business..(snaps fingers)..it's time to open business.
I take money from the boss to wrestle? You bet I do. Because un-like some of your other pals you've taken down....I don't get paid in biker shorts and hairline extensions. I get paid in American Currency, because that's how I pay my bills each month.
At anyrate, you must have a hearing problem, seeing as that I said..."I don't care about belts right now....". Anyman in his right mind has got to be pretty stupid if he thinks that he can just walk into an office and demand a title shot for their first match in the organization....let's just not even visit that category shall we?
If the boss believes that I'm putting foot to (bleep), like I SHOULD BE...then any offers will be taken and considered in good faith. But for some reason I slack off just below par...then and only then will I step back for another look at where I went wrong and FIX IT.
I never said I wouldn't BE a champion, Anarky, because frankly, I ain't no stinkin' Fortune teller, so I won't know whether or not I ever will be; Time will tell.
I'm sorry you haven't gotten the title shots that you've been promised, and that you deserve pal...I really am. But seein' as I'm not REALLY new around here....there isn't too much I can do about it for ya.
You wanna know what motivates me, pal? You wanna knwo about the DRIVE, that keeps me goin'? Then ask and ye shall receive.
The evidence...that you can *MAKE* it last. That's what keeps me standing. You're right, I hate when I have to wrestle punks that aren't up to par, or that are already injured...because that gives me an easy advantage.
The SATISFACTION...if you will...of knowing that I am that much BETTER than my opponent, that's the charcoal for my fire, pal.
Like you can tell me about being fed bottom-dwellers, that one almost made Keith Richards turn over in his grave and the (bleep)-ing guy isn't even DEAD YET.
You know about pain huh?? Okay, then you know what it's like to be stretched in every possible position used to make a man submit. You know about getting thrown several feet off a stage...not to mention through two tables as you go down. As a matter of fact, you could even take so much pain as to protect yourself in an I Quit Match by SOWING YOUR OWN LIPS SHUT. These are just a couple of things I've seen men do....and a couple I've done myself to others.
You want me to make you torture, suffer, and bleed in order for me to beat you?
Nope, sorry Big Boy, I can't do that. I can't do that because that goes against all I've proved time in and time out about business.
You go in, kick (bleep), and go home. You want pain? You want blood and suffering??
Then you're somethin' else freaky!!!
Whether or not I win doesn't matter to me just yet....but if it's unconsciousness you want??
(Cruise pulls off glasses and looks sternly into the camera.)
Then you've come to the right place.
(Crosses arms)
At the WRONG TIME.
Fade
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 43
Rape the Day
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-23-03 AT 05:12 PM (EST)](FADEIN to a beautiful, picturesque scene on the edge of a mountain. Anarky sits, one leg dangling over the edge, a lit cigarette in his hand, with his arm draped over his leg. For a moment, he ignores the camera, and takes a few drags. When he finally does speak, he does so without looking at the camera, with a quiet, reassured voice.)
ANARKY: "What is it about the weakness of the mind, Cameron, that makes men resort to pettiness? I only ask you, because it seems obvious to me that you are, indeed, a man of weak mind. After all, making fun of me for standing on top of buildings or sitting at the edge of ledges? Is this the best you can do? Making a tasteless joke about snipers and terrorists? You don't like where I cut my interviews? You want me to sit in front of a GLCW banner? Or maybe I could just stop and smell the flowers like you, hm, Cameron? Then maybe people would think I was an intelligent, thoughtful person. But if I was anything like you, Cam... I'd be lying.
"You see, Cam... where I choose to speak from should be the least of your concerns. You claim not to have the time to dilly-dally like some kind of... superhero... such as myself... yet you waste your breath refuting me. But this is only the first, and least important of your logical fallacies.
"Now, Cam... I know it's important for your image to APPEAR as though you make sense. And I'm sure, somewhere in the depths of your subnormal brain, everything you say hits the money spot. But just because something APPEARS to be true doesn't make it so.
"Do you really think I'm incapable of understanding that we get paid, Cam? Believe it or not, even I get paid, buddy. And probably more than you, though I guess we'll never know, will we? You see, Cameron, I did not take offense to the fact that you get paid. I do understand this, I assure you. I took offense to what you said because you claimed... and I'm quoting you here... that you were here for one reason... because the boss needed you and was willing to pay you.
"Now, I can ignore the fact that that's actually TWO reasons, Cameron. Such slip-ups are allowed... even EXPECTED from someone such as yourself. But then you go back and tell me that you do, in fact, want to be a Champion, but you don't expect to simply be HANDED a title shot. Instead, your motivation is the ability to MAKE IT LAST. Your words, Cameron. Not mine."
(He stops speaking and throws the cigarette butt over the edge, watching it fall into the ravine below. He turns towards the camera and lifts his sunglasses, revealing eyes that have not gotten enough sleep. A sharp scar runs vertically next to his right eye.)
ANARKY: "I don't expect your RESPECT, Cameron. I don't expect you to know who I am, or what I've done for this sport for the past ten years. I don't care if you think that I was promised a title shot. I wasn't. I've EARNED ONE. I've beaten EACH AND EVERY person they've put in my path. And you're the next one on that path, Cameron. And that doesn't bode well for your career. Or your future paychecks.
"But it doesn't pay to speak the truth. It pays to lie and pretend that you don't care about things like titles. It pays to pretend that the only thing that drives you is the pure CHALLENGE of it. It pays to slap the fans' hands, and scream out the name of whatever worthless city you're staying in. It pays... Cameron... to pretend to be good. But there's nothing GOOD about you, or Maelstrom, or anyone else around here.
"The TRUTH, Cameron... is what I have on my side. Am I a monster? Yes, most probably. But at least I admit it. At least I don't PRETEND to be something else. At least I don't have to pick apart the location of your promos JUST TO FEEL SMARTER THAN YOU.
"You are a monster too, Cameron. You and everyone else here. Because your entire existence... your life force... is simply to be a harbinger of pain and misery towards others like you. To engulf the ring in agony for the bloodlust of the fans. To fool people into thinking that your STUPID LITTLE GAMES and your STUPID LITTLE AMBITIONS mean more than pain or suffering.
"Well I will set you free, Cameron. I will expose you for the fraud you are. And when I'm done... you'll still be the stupid, insignificant bug that you were before... and I... I will be...
"... one step closer... to salvation."
(FADEOUT as he laughs maddeningly... )
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-23-03 AT 05:12 PM (EST)](FADEIN to a beautiful, picturesque scene on the edge of a mountain. Anarky sits, one leg dangling over the edge, a lit cigarette in his hand, with his arm draped over his leg. For a moment, he ignores the camera, and takes a few drags. When he finally does speak, he does so without looking at the camera, with a quiet, reassured voice.)
ANARKY: "What is it about the weakness of the mind, Cameron, that makes men resort to pettiness? I only ask you, because it seems obvious to me that you are, indeed, a man of weak mind. After all, making fun of me for standing on top of buildings or sitting at the edge of ledges? Is this the best you can do? Making a tasteless joke about snipers and terrorists? You don't like where I cut my interviews? You want me to sit in front of a GLCW banner? Or maybe I could just stop and smell the flowers like you, hm, Cameron? Then maybe people would think I was an intelligent, thoughtful person. But if I was anything like you, Cam... I'd be lying.
"You see, Cam... where I choose to speak from should be the least of your concerns. You claim not to have the time to dilly-dally like some kind of... superhero... such as myself... yet you waste your breath refuting me. But this is only the first, and least important of your logical fallacies.
"Now, Cam... I know it's important for your image to APPEAR as though you make sense. And I'm sure, somewhere in the depths of your subnormal brain, everything you say hits the money spot. But just because something APPEARS to be true doesn't make it so.
"Do you really think I'm incapable of understanding that we get paid, Cam? Believe it or not, even I get paid, buddy. And probably more than you, though I guess we'll never know, will we? You see, Cameron, I did not take offense to the fact that you get paid. I do understand this, I assure you. I took offense to what you said because you claimed... and I'm quoting you here... that you were here for one reason... because the boss needed you and was willing to pay you.
"Now, I can ignore the fact that that's actually TWO reasons, Cameron. Such slip-ups are allowed... even EXPECTED from someone such as yourself. But then you go back and tell me that you do, in fact, want to be a Champion, but you don't expect to simply be HANDED a title shot. Instead, your motivation is the ability to MAKE IT LAST. Your words, Cameron. Not mine."
(He stops speaking and throws the cigarette butt over the edge, watching it fall into the ravine below. He turns towards the camera and lifts his sunglasses, revealing eyes that have not gotten enough sleep. A sharp scar runs vertically next to his right eye.)
ANARKY: "I don't expect your RESPECT, Cameron. I don't expect you to know who I am, or what I've done for this sport for the past ten years. I don't care if you think that I was promised a title shot. I wasn't. I've EARNED ONE. I've beaten EACH AND EVERY person they've put in my path. And you're the next one on that path, Cameron. And that doesn't bode well for your career. Or your future paychecks.
"But it doesn't pay to speak the truth. It pays to lie and pretend that you don't care about things like titles. It pays to pretend that the only thing that drives you is the pure CHALLENGE of it. It pays to slap the fans' hands, and scream out the name of whatever worthless city you're staying in. It pays... Cameron... to pretend to be good. But there's nothing GOOD about you, or Maelstrom, or anyone else around here.
"The TRUTH, Cameron... is what I have on my side. Am I a monster? Yes, most probably. But at least I admit it. At least I don't PRETEND to be something else. At least I don't have to pick apart the location of your promos JUST TO FEEL SMARTER THAN YOU.
"You are a monster too, Cameron. You and everyone else here. Because your entire existence... your life force... is simply to be a harbinger of pain and misery towards others like you. To engulf the ring in agony for the bloodlust of the fans. To fool people into thinking that your STUPID LITTLE GAMES and your STUPID LITTLE AMBITIONS mean more than pain or suffering.
"Well I will set you free, Cameron. I will expose you for the fraud you are. And when I'm done... you'll still be the stupid, insignificant bug that you were before... and I... I will be...
"... one step closer... to salvation."
(FADEOUT as he laughs maddeningly... )
TSiegel
I spoil things.
Knit me a sweater....
(Fadein, a grey backdrop, a desk, chair, and Cruise in it. Dressed in a white sport coat, black slacks, and shades, Cruise is seated comfortably, hands laced together on the desk.)
CC: You really don't get it, do you pal? You really think that I care about cracking jokes on whether or not you smoke cigerettes, sit on ledges or cliffs, and the fact that you talk about being steps closer to Salvation like people do about Jesus coming back? Here's a thought...uh-uh.
You think that I sit here and make fun of people while trying to be a hero and do several things at one time.
Here's a reality check for ya....I don't. But while we're at it, let me just inform you of something before I lose train of thought.
Superman is a hero.
Batman is a hero.
Even in some little boys' and girls' eyes...SANTA CLAUS IS A HERO.
But you're not a hero. Not me, not anyone else. I'm here because of the simple fact that I'm needed.
You don't like it? Bring it up to the boss, and if he agrees, hey, no sweat off my back, I have a BETTER job, elsewhere.
Where? You'll just have to wait and find out for yourself. But I gotta tell ya, if you're trying to impress me by correcting me on what I've said, or done, or said I was going TO DO....forget it.
(Cruise takes off his shades, folding them and placing them in a coat pocket. Running a hand quckly through his hair...)
You don't expect RESPECT from me, wow...I'm really stunned, ya know, seeing as I NEVER expected it from you.
Here's a question for you, Anarky. If you've earned a shot at the title...what in the world are you doing accepting a match against me? What? You think that I would be just another partner for you to practice with? Think again.
But let's just humor you a minute....let's say I win a title. Doesn't really matter which one, just that I do beat the guy and go home with gold.
Do you honestly think that I'm gonna jump up and down like a Girl Scout selling her last box of cookies? Not hardly.
I'm gonna go home, get some rest, and get up the next day doing the same thing I do everyday that I do best.
Get ready to step in the ring, and do it all over again.
I'm supposed to feel afraid or indifferent of how I do things just because I'm next on your trip to the world title??
Do me a favor and BITE ME. Matter of fact, no, you have suicidal tendencies, sitting on ledges, cliffs. Don't bite me, instead just stay there on your ledges and cliffs. You'll be better off.
But for your sake, I'll say it one last time.
If you don't respect me that's fine. 'Cause I don't respect you. I might respect your ABILITY, just like most of the other opponents I've had in the past, but I don't respect you.
You wanna set me free? Go ahead and try...I guarantee you won't be getting any title shots other than the ones you get in PRISON.
Good luck with that, by the way, and I *DON'T, wanna know about the results.
Fade.
(Fadein, a grey backdrop, a desk, chair, and Cruise in it. Dressed in a white sport coat, black slacks, and shades, Cruise is seated comfortably, hands laced together on the desk.)
CC: You really don't get it, do you pal? You really think that I care about cracking jokes on whether or not you smoke cigerettes, sit on ledges or cliffs, and the fact that you talk about being steps closer to Salvation like people do about Jesus coming back? Here's a thought...uh-uh.
You think that I sit here and make fun of people while trying to be a hero and do several things at one time.
Here's a reality check for ya....I don't. But while we're at it, let me just inform you of something before I lose train of thought.
Superman is a hero.
Batman is a hero.
Even in some little boys' and girls' eyes...SANTA CLAUS IS A HERO.
But you're not a hero. Not me, not anyone else. I'm here because of the simple fact that I'm needed.
You don't like it? Bring it up to the boss, and if he agrees, hey, no sweat off my back, I have a BETTER job, elsewhere.
Where? You'll just have to wait and find out for yourself. But I gotta tell ya, if you're trying to impress me by correcting me on what I've said, or done, or said I was going TO DO....forget it.
(Cruise takes off his shades, folding them and placing them in a coat pocket. Running a hand quckly through his hair...)
You don't expect RESPECT from me, wow...I'm really stunned, ya know, seeing as I NEVER expected it from you.
Here's a question for you, Anarky. If you've earned a shot at the title...what in the world are you doing accepting a match against me? What? You think that I would be just another partner for you to practice with? Think again.
But let's just humor you a minute....let's say I win a title. Doesn't really matter which one, just that I do beat the guy and go home with gold.
Do you honestly think that I'm gonna jump up and down like a Girl Scout selling her last box of cookies? Not hardly.
I'm gonna go home, get some rest, and get up the next day doing the same thing I do everyday that I do best.
Get ready to step in the ring, and do it all over again.
I'm supposed to feel afraid or indifferent of how I do things just because I'm next on your trip to the world title??
Do me a favor and BITE ME. Matter of fact, no, you have suicidal tendencies, sitting on ledges, cliffs. Don't bite me, instead just stay there on your ledges and cliffs. You'll be better off.
But for your sake, I'll say it one last time.
If you don't respect me that's fine. 'Cause I don't respect you. I might respect your ABILITY, just like most of the other opponents I've had in the past, but I don't respect you.
You wanna set me free? Go ahead and try...I guarantee you won't be getting any title shots other than the ones you get in PRISON.
Good luck with that, by the way, and I *DON'T, wanna know about the results.
Fade.
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 43
Diffusing the Myth
(FADEIN to Anarky, standing with his arms crossed in front of an ENORMOUS GLCW logo on a video screen. The room is otherwise dark and empty.)
ANARKY: "Mr. Cameron Cruise. Time, it would seem, is beginning to run out. For you and me both. Yet I can't help but feel we've already begun to walk over the same roads over and over again. I point out that you're a mindless antihero... you point out that you don't care. Point, counterpoint. Very... productive.
"But you see, Cam... I am growing weary of your games. I'm sure that WHEREVER it is you come from, that everyone loves you very much, and you're the best thing since Little Debbie, but here... right now... that doesn't mean <BLEEP>. Because you obviously don't have what it takes. And do you know why I know that? Is it because I'm so INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT? No, sadly, it is not.
"It's because you so obviously don't care. Like a typical antihero... you come out here, and you say that you're needed. That's so honorable of you. Yet, you claim that if the boss didn't need you, you've got better things to do anyway. So let me get this straight: you don't give a <BLEEP> about winning a title, and you don't give a <BLEEP> about your job, and you don't give a <BLEEP> if I don't respect you... and yet... you are needed."
(He laughs loudly, his voice echoing off the walls. The huge video walls changes suddenly to clips of Anarky's various matches in GLCW. CUTTO: Anarky hits the Chaos Breaker on Jonathan Marx. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Jarod Poe. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Jared Wells. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Jared Justice. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Golem. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Rychard Isaac. CUTTO: Freeze frame of Anarky standing, his face covered in blood, his arms raised.)
ANARKY: "Mr. Cruise, believe it or not, I don't get to DECIDE who and when I fight. I didn't HAND PICK this match. And quite frankly, if I WAS consulted, I would have asked for someone with a little more credibility than YOU. But that doesn't mean you're not dangerous. That doesn't mean you CAN'T beat me. Anything can happen, Cruise.
"I have defeated each and every opponent they have given me. Do I get so much as a Television Title Shot? Of course not. Instead, they give it to some PSEUDO-NEW AGE PUNK named CANNONBALL KIDD. And what do I get? CAMERON CRUISE?!
"But I understand now. You see... they're just whetting my appetite. Working my hunger. Feeding me little morsels of talent and goodness... until they give me the man on top. The only man here worth destroying... the man man here worth FIGHTING. But you all know who I'm talking about.
"So I wait... and my patience is wearing thin... but you, Cruise... you I will enjoy. Isaac... Golem... Jared Justice... they left a bad taste in my mouth. I hardly enjoyed it at all. But you... oh you, you are special... because you annoy me so...
"... the way you don't care... the way you wear your sunglasses... even the way your last name is Cruise. Oh, yes... yessss... you I will be MOST DELICIOUS. Your blood will taste just a little bit sweeter to me. Just a little bit more... perfect."
(The screen changes again. CUTTO: Complete darkness. All we can see is Anarky's silhouette.)
ANARKY: "Come, Cruise... chaos awaits."
(FADEOUT.)
(FADEIN to Anarky, standing with his arms crossed in front of an ENORMOUS GLCW logo on a video screen. The room is otherwise dark and empty.)
ANARKY: "Mr. Cameron Cruise. Time, it would seem, is beginning to run out. For you and me both. Yet I can't help but feel we've already begun to walk over the same roads over and over again. I point out that you're a mindless antihero... you point out that you don't care. Point, counterpoint. Very... productive.
"But you see, Cam... I am growing weary of your games. I'm sure that WHEREVER it is you come from, that everyone loves you very much, and you're the best thing since Little Debbie, but here... right now... that doesn't mean <BLEEP>. Because you obviously don't have what it takes. And do you know why I know that? Is it because I'm so INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT? No, sadly, it is not.
"It's because you so obviously don't care. Like a typical antihero... you come out here, and you say that you're needed. That's so honorable of you. Yet, you claim that if the boss didn't need you, you've got better things to do anyway. So let me get this straight: you don't give a <BLEEP> about winning a title, and you don't give a <BLEEP> about your job, and you don't give a <BLEEP> if I don't respect you... and yet... you are needed."
(He laughs loudly, his voice echoing off the walls. The huge video walls changes suddenly to clips of Anarky's various matches in GLCW. CUTTO: Anarky hits the Chaos Breaker on Jonathan Marx. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Jarod Poe. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Jared Wells. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Jared Justice. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Golem. CUTTO: He hits the Chaos Breaker on Rychard Isaac. CUTTO: Freeze frame of Anarky standing, his face covered in blood, his arms raised.)
ANARKY: "Mr. Cruise, believe it or not, I don't get to DECIDE who and when I fight. I didn't HAND PICK this match. And quite frankly, if I WAS consulted, I would have asked for someone with a little more credibility than YOU. But that doesn't mean you're not dangerous. That doesn't mean you CAN'T beat me. Anything can happen, Cruise.
"I have defeated each and every opponent they have given me. Do I get so much as a Television Title Shot? Of course not. Instead, they give it to some PSEUDO-NEW AGE PUNK named CANNONBALL KIDD. And what do I get? CAMERON CRUISE?!
"But I understand now. You see... they're just whetting my appetite. Working my hunger. Feeding me little morsels of talent and goodness... until they give me the man on top. The only man here worth destroying... the man man here worth FIGHTING. But you all know who I'm talking about.
"So I wait... and my patience is wearing thin... but you, Cruise... you I will enjoy. Isaac... Golem... Jared Justice... they left a bad taste in my mouth. I hardly enjoyed it at all. But you... oh you, you are special... because you annoy me so...
"... the way you don't care... the way you wear your sunglasses... even the way your last name is Cruise. Oh, yes... yessss... you I will be MOST DELICIOUS. Your blood will taste just a little bit sweeter to me. Just a little bit more... perfect."
(The screen changes again. CUTTO: Complete darkness. All we can see is Anarky's silhouette.)
ANARKY: "Come, Cruise... chaos awaits."
(FADEOUT.)
TSiegel
I spoil things.
Inevitable dreams....
(Fadein to a white backround with a brown chair and table. Cruise slowly, pondering his next thoughts, steps into view, takes a seat in the chair, tapping his temple as he does.)
CC: I finally get it. I do, because it seems more than just obvious enough not to.
You watch Thrillers.
No, not the Michael Jackson video, and not that other tag team I still hear about running their mouths off about about failing to win the straps.
Movies.
You watch movies. I mean, it makes perfect sense. Sitting on cliffs, ledges. Talking about Carnal Activity....Science Fiction.
All of it, from film. Now, I'm not saying you quote all the best lines, because truthfully....
YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!
(Cruise bites his lip, realizing the sudden outburst)
Sorry....got abit involved into the *ACT*.
Abit of advice while you're at it....start listening. It helps a little. I'm not anti-hero. Never try to be, never wanted to be. I just do what I gotta do to get the job done, and it works.
In your...oh so humble....opinion, I don't have it takes to to that.
(Cruise gets up from the table, walks slowly around it, sitting on the table in front of the chair.)
That's okay. No, really it is. Because it's stupid ROOKIE mistakes like that that make *YOU* look bad, not me. Since when do you have the right to pass judgement on me? You said it yourself, you don't know me, therefore can't ASSESS me.
I'm just a man in line on the way to the title. Good for you.
But I'll tell you one thing before you set up the Apple Cider tables and Tootsie Roll bowl.
My apparent blood will taste better and more sweeter and delicious than your other opponent have.
Please keep this in mind...when you're facing upwards on the mat....
(Cruise hops up, and off the table)
With a broken neck.
(Cruise slowly holds one finger up, then two, and finally a third, mouthing the number on each finger.)
Fadeout.
(Fadein to a white backround with a brown chair and table. Cruise slowly, pondering his next thoughts, steps into view, takes a seat in the chair, tapping his temple as he does.)
CC: I finally get it. I do, because it seems more than just obvious enough not to.
You watch Thrillers.
No, not the Michael Jackson video, and not that other tag team I still hear about running their mouths off about about failing to win the straps.
Movies.
You watch movies. I mean, it makes perfect sense. Sitting on cliffs, ledges. Talking about Carnal Activity....Science Fiction.
All of it, from film. Now, I'm not saying you quote all the best lines, because truthfully....
YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!
(Cruise bites his lip, realizing the sudden outburst)
Sorry....got abit involved into the *ACT*.
Abit of advice while you're at it....start listening. It helps a little. I'm not anti-hero. Never try to be, never wanted to be. I just do what I gotta do to get the job done, and it works.
In your...oh so humble....opinion, I don't have it takes to to that.
(Cruise gets up from the table, walks slowly around it, sitting on the table in front of the chair.)
That's okay. No, really it is. Because it's stupid ROOKIE mistakes like that that make *YOU* look bad, not me. Since when do you have the right to pass judgement on me? You said it yourself, you don't know me, therefore can't ASSESS me.
I'm just a man in line on the way to the title. Good for you.
But I'll tell you one thing before you set up the Apple Cider tables and Tootsie Roll bowl.
My apparent blood will taste better and more sweeter and delicious than your other opponent have.
Please keep this in mind...when you're facing upwards on the mat....
(Cruise hops up, and off the table)
With a broken neck.
(Cruise slowly holds one finger up, then two, and finally a third, mouthing the number on each finger.)
Fadeout.