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"God's Gift" Dean McQueen vs. Jared Poe


Dean McQueen

A Gift from God

Picture it: Detroit, Michigan, 2002. It's a hot summer night. Cars and people walk the streets of downtown Detroit in front of the Fox Theatre. Inside the lobby we find "God's Gift" Dean McQueen standing in front of the pizza vendor. He has somehow obtained a microphone.

McQueen: We're only days away from GLCW First Wave at the Hobo Arena, right here in this pathetic hole called Detroit, Michigan. I don't think there is one good thing ever to come out of Detroit. The Lions lost their first ten or so games, the Tigers couldn't get a penant if their lives depended on it, and the Pistons choked in the first round of the playoffs. The Redwings are the only team Detroit has than can remember what it's like to win, but with their coach and goalie retiring, they won't be remembering what it's like to have the Stanley Cup very long.

Jared Poe, you should fit in here quite well; Detroit is lousy with losers like you. I can't say I know anything about you, but the word in the locker room is that you like to torture yourself. You love being exposed to pain and suffering. Well, Jared, consider me God's Gift to you, because if there is one thing you're going to get in our match, it's pain and suffering, and you're going to receive it in abundance. The only reason you have for coming to the ring is to receive the inevitable beating that awaits you, so that you might try to forget about all of the things in your horrible life that make you so depressed and miserable that you like to inflice pain upon yourself, and put yourself through the misfortune of facing me.

As far as I'm concerned, if anyone in this tournament has any ideas about winning, you may as well pack up your bags and go home right now. I'm God's Gift to GLCW. Heck, I'm God's Gift to Wrestling, period! Not only am I the most talented athlete in GLCW, I'm the only talented athlete in the GLCW! I'm the only reason anyone is going to bother to show up for GLCW Heat Wave. If it wasn't for me, the GLCW wouldn't even be opening right now, because nobody out there would have bought their tickets to come to the show and put their money in Scott Malec's hands! I have no idea what I'm doing in the midcard, but I'm sure that once the bookers see that I'm the GLCW's only true big draw, and that I'm the only worker with ring ability, charisma, and the Superstar Look, McQueen strikes a vain pose they'll put me right where I belong: in the Main Event, by myself, letting all of those fans out there adore and worship me as the Gift from God I am.

Poe, at GECW Sound Wave, take one Last Look, because that's the last thing you're going to ever see again.

[/i]Dean McQueen grabs a piece of pizza from someone standing next to him and takes a bite. He chews it slowly and gets a disgusted look on his face before spitting it out. Fade to black.


League Member
Jan 1, 2000
Darkness Born

[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-28-02 AT 11:49 PM (EDT)](It's a warm night on the shores of Lake Erie near the outskirts of Detroit. It;s now well past midnight and the people who eascaped the city for the clear weather and cool water are all gone home..tucked safely in thier beds. On the sandy shore you can hear the water softly splash against the small outcrop the the city folk actually consider a beach. Despite the warm teperture a cool breeze blows in the air making it quite cool. On the beach a fire burns away in a barrel as we see a lone figure huddle his hands only inches away from the crackling flames. Behind the lights of the city shine bringt in the night blackness across the dark water the lights of the happy people in Canada can be seen even from this distance. The camera moves in closer as our lone figure moves not an inch. He simply holds his hands above the flame and his voice breaks the silience like many shards of shattering glass)

Man: I was born in Hell...Hell, Michigan. It's a small place not too far away from here. A place where they say Halloween is not just a holiday, but a way of life. *snickers* Never quite understood that. My father used to work on the docks...waiting for the big ships to come in from Canada and spend his day unloading cargo under a warm summer sun. My uncle...he spent his time slaving away in the car factories of Detroit. "Building the cars that move the Nation" is what he used to tell me. He'd rub my head when he said it. I'd shake my hair back into shape and smile. Then I'd give him a blank look. Thye both wasted thier time...and thier lives. Mom...well she was a different story...she was smart enough to bang my Dad's boss. He might have been a scumbag, but he was a rich one...Mom at least had a plan. As for me...well I grew up in my youth swearing I'd never waste my life...slaving at a thankless job...no I strived to be the very best. Top of my class...High School football star...military recruit...Army Ranger. I was what you called an All-American...had the dream. A wife...two and a half kids...even that two car garage. *spits* Dreams don't last. Pain is forever...life sucks...Life is Pain.

(The camera moves in closer and the dark figure rubs his hands together. There's a glint of reflection from something metallic..could be a ring. Once more the man still keeping his back to the camera begins to speak again...a depressed tone now in his voice)

Man: The family gone...slaughtered by some manaic who hunted *points over his shoulder* those streets like the big steel jungle it is. *spits* He know rots away in prison...a fate too good for him. The house gone..burnt to the ground by a man who could not stand the memories it still held. *In the darkness his face cracks a smile* and the Army Ranger you ask? Well he was wounded...then court martialed...he had just about one order too many...one order politicly motivated instead of what was best for a country he would of given his life for. I'm sure you asking...why a wrestler? Well that's an even longer story...a friend of a friend kind of story. A means to an end...a way to make money...and release my inner frustrations. Let's leave it at...I'm here and it's what I do. Soon the time will come for my debut...the GLCW...not far from the place I was born...Hell...*snickers*...seems kind of fitting if you ask me.

(Slowly the man turns his head. The light of the fire Illiminates his face and we get a clear lok at the man names Jarod Poe. He slowly opens his mouth sticking out his tongue to show it's forked sections. The snake like appendage retreats back and a grim smile forms on his lips. A flash of fire dances of the reflection of a third eye piercing and drak eyes look coldly back)

Poe: I find it funny that of all people for me to debut againt it's a man who calls himself "God's Gift" as if the great creator himself molded this man, put him on the planet in of all things to be it'd be in the role of a professional wrestler. *laughs* God...me and him are going to have a great argument someday...a confrontation for the ages. That will be a match to really be watched *shakes his head* Sadly that will not be the case when I step into the ring with Dean McQueen.

(Poe pauses and then let's out a laugh of empathy)

Poe: James Dean...Steve McQueen..two men whose fame...talent and potentail you either worship or wish you had boy. Is that what your supposed to be? A new king of cool? A young legend for the men to be jealous of and a pretty boy to get the chicks panties moist...that what you want to be? Well if you live up to your idols boy then the future is good for the rest of us...you'll be dead soon. Although I doubt you even know who these REAL men our...I'm thinking the name was *shrugs* Your mom's idea...really doesn't matter to me. Tomorrow night her boy will be stepping into the ring with a MAN...a dangerous man. A man who cares nothing for the pretty face you want pasted ALL over the GLCW. The mug you want all the fans to cheer for...the canvas for what I'll use to draw in blood with. I'm going to hurt you BOY...hurt you bad...LIFE IS PAIN...I understand that...you will soon.

(Poe stands tall now a leather jacket hangs off his broad shoulders the fringe blowing in the cool breeze. He clenches his fist open and close...the sound of metal on metal can be heard)

Poe: Your yearning for fame is admirable...if is were not all in vain. Your lack of true knowledge about how this world really works is abudant with every self-serving word that comes from your mouth. You come off as your are...the dumb high-school kid...fresh from the movies hyped that Vin Diesal has a new movie coming out. Your jazzed on some MTV forced feed drug..living for the hype because the deeper meaning is so far above your head. You consider what I put my body through as some kind of torture, but you have never felt the pure equsite exctasy that is purification. Life is pain and in order to understand it Boy..well you must embrace it. I like to embrace pain...I understand it I enjoy it and when I get alone with you...*snickers*...well you will embrace my pain. Not all of it...just the small amount I ALLOW you to feel. Put up your best defense...fight the GOOF fight my son. Reach high for the Gold and Glory that you seek. Then REEL and the true fact of life. LIFE IS PAIN...it's a lesson you'll learn soon.

(Like a rifle shot he kicks his foot forward and the barrel tumble over. The coals of the burning wood tumble onto the sand and the flame dwindles down. Poe turns his face back tot he camera)

Poe: See how easy it is. One quick strike and the fire was snuffed out. So shall yours at the mere sound of a ringing bell. Do me a favor Dean. Cock your thumbs up...point them to your shoulders and wish upon a star you had people cheer you as the action repeats. Then open your eyes...stare at the cement wall of your dressing room...and think hard on what it would feel like to have your face smashed into it. *smiles* That's what I'm thinking right now. You want to be famous...you will be, but not for anything you will have dne in the ring. It will be as a foot note on my legacy...should a fool bother to write it all down. Life is Pain my Son...deny it...run from it...hide...I tried...didn't work...won't for you...why? I'm it's messenger. I am "The Torture King" Jarod Poe...will you be my victim Dean...will you?...*smiles*...Please?

(Spit flies from his mouth and he turns a slowly walks in the direction of the night lights of Detroit. A place that looks much better now then when the sun rises)


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