TBirdSCIL
League Member
All RP for this match goes here.
Golem vs. Chris "Mr. Dread" McMillan
- Thread starter TBirdSCIL
- Start date
Mister Dread
League Member
One step closer ...
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-13-02 AT 09:03 PM (EDT)]::FADEIN on the rickety, sagging ring at the Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy, the dim and unsavory haunt of MISTER DREAD. DREAD sits perched on the top turnbuckle, attired as usual in jeans, harness boots, and a tattered Dogs of War t-shirt::
MISTER DREAD: Well, Mister Dread lives to see another week. And advances in the tourney as well, if you can believe that. Looks like I was holing just a little bit in reserve after all, huh? You put up a good fight, Tex. Just wasn't in the cards for you. But that brings me on to my opponent in the semi-finals. He's got quite a size advantage, and almost SIXTY pounds on me. That doesn't worry me, though. I've taken on bigger men than him, and come out the winner more often than not. You can bet that I'm not sweating my match with you, Colon ...
CAMERAMAN:(from off-camera) ... errr, that's 'Golem' ...
MISTER DREAD: Oh, right. How stupid of me. Look, you're bigger than me. Stronger too. But the most fatal mistake you can make is letting yourself think that I'm a pushover. The littlest dog has the nastiest bite, Dolemite ...
CAMERAMAN: ... Golem ...
MISTER DREAD: Huh?
CAMERAMAN: Your opponent's name is GOLEM, Mister Dread.
MISTER DREAD: Riiiiight, you told me that once already, didn't you? Anyway ... GOLEM ... are you ready for me? Do you think you're ready to go ONE on ONE with the Dread one? Can you handle the Giant Killer? The FUTURE of Professional Wrestling? DO YOU THINK YOU CAN BRING DOWN MISTER DREAD?!? You give it a shot, Golem. Get into the ring, and you try your DAMNDEST to put me down. I know you've got the size, Golem, but there's no way in HELL that you've got the skill to outwrestle me. Count on it.
::FADE TO BLACK::
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-13-02 AT 09:03 PM (EDT)]::FADEIN on the rickety, sagging ring at the Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy, the dim and unsavory haunt of MISTER DREAD. DREAD sits perched on the top turnbuckle, attired as usual in jeans, harness boots, and a tattered Dogs of War t-shirt::
MISTER DREAD: Well, Mister Dread lives to see another week. And advances in the tourney as well, if you can believe that. Looks like I was holing just a little bit in reserve after all, huh? You put up a good fight, Tex. Just wasn't in the cards for you. But that brings me on to my opponent in the semi-finals. He's got quite a size advantage, and almost SIXTY pounds on me. That doesn't worry me, though. I've taken on bigger men than him, and come out the winner more often than not. You can bet that I'm not sweating my match with you, Colon ...
CAMERAMAN:(from off-camera) ... errr, that's 'Golem' ...
MISTER DREAD: Oh, right. How stupid of me. Look, you're bigger than me. Stronger too. But the most fatal mistake you can make is letting yourself think that I'm a pushover. The littlest dog has the nastiest bite, Dolemite ...
CAMERAMAN: ... Golem ...
MISTER DREAD: Huh?
CAMERAMAN: Your opponent's name is GOLEM, Mister Dread.
MISTER DREAD: Riiiiight, you told me that once already, didn't you? Anyway ... GOLEM ... are you ready for me? Do you think you're ready to go ONE on ONE with the Dread one? Can you handle the Giant Killer? The FUTURE of Professional Wrestling? DO YOU THINK YOU CAN BRING DOWN MISTER DREAD?!? You give it a shot, Golem. Get into the ring, and you try your DAMNDEST to put me down. I know you've got the size, Golem, but there's no way in HELL that you've got the skill to outwrestle me. Count on it.
::FADE TO BLACK::
Memories, How They Fade Away...
(Cue Up: "The Day The World Went Away" by Nine Inch Nails. Fade into a dark room. A light flickers. It flickers again, and then stays on. It's a street light, losing power. A figure is shown in the darkness, standing in front of a large house, just staring at it. He turns away and starts walking down the street. He passes small, paved streets. He walks past a small park and on into a silent street, cold and sterile. Golem vanishes and reappears as passes from light into dark into light once more.)
Golem: So, the reckoning is at hand. And so shall be born from this great age a champion. A hero that strives on from the shambles of the darkness. The Age of Golem is at hand as the awakening struck down Martinez. With that behind me, I thought I would enjoy an victory meal. But my feast was cut short but a revolting creature. This Mr. Dread. Now he can play his name games with his camera all he wants. For as the darkness spins unto the next setting, time ticks away on his existence. I am not a Dog of War, and I am here to sing to you about how strong my bite is. It is written in the annals of history that I am all that I claim to be. Perhaps you should follow history a little closer. It would keep you from making the same mistake that so many before you have. The mistake that Martinez was so close to realizing. That when you battle Golem, you are fighting a truer and more perfect opponent than you could have ever hoped to imagine. A man who makes the eye betray the mind and lures fools to believe that he suffers from the same frailty of all the others they've battled. Reality shall flow and blood shall surge like so many faucets. For in Golem is the answer and so shall it be expelled unto you, McMillan. There is no way in hell I have the skill to outwrestle you? You look at me and you see a beast. All size and power, no brain or skill. But you misunderstand because you cannot comprehend. But when I am through utterly massacring you, and I feel that the time for bloodletting has ceased, you will begin to reshape your reality. A coarse wind shall strike you and strip away your simple ideas. Get my name wrong? That's fine. Because I hope you are not taking me seriously. I hope you see just another battle. (Golem stops and the camera catches a sadistic grin in the light.) Because they are so much more fun when they don't run. For as much as some savor the hunt, Golem savors the kill. (He slowly bgins walking again.) Little dog, big dog. It doesn't matter. They all look the same sprawled out at the hands of the one who's name be deserved the respect to be spoken only in swallowed breath. The Age is at hand and, not you...not anybody, Chris, can stop it. It's righteousness shall be spelled out in, Mister Dread. For with the awakening passed, the next step is the devouring of the foolish. YOU, McMillan, shall be Golem's reckoning.
(Golem stops as the road comes to a dead end. He stands directly under a street light as it flickers. Golem looks up at it, and it simply dies out. And all is left is the black.)
(Cue Up: "The Day The World Went Away" by Nine Inch Nails. Fade into a dark room. A light flickers. It flickers again, and then stays on. It's a street light, losing power. A figure is shown in the darkness, standing in front of a large house, just staring at it. He turns away and starts walking down the street. He passes small, paved streets. He walks past a small park and on into a silent street, cold and sterile. Golem vanishes and reappears as passes from light into dark into light once more.)
Golem: So, the reckoning is at hand. And so shall be born from this great age a champion. A hero that strives on from the shambles of the darkness. The Age of Golem is at hand as the awakening struck down Martinez. With that behind me, I thought I would enjoy an victory meal. But my feast was cut short but a revolting creature. This Mr. Dread. Now he can play his name games with his camera all he wants. For as the darkness spins unto the next setting, time ticks away on his existence. I am not a Dog of War, and I am here to sing to you about how strong my bite is. It is written in the annals of history that I am all that I claim to be. Perhaps you should follow history a little closer. It would keep you from making the same mistake that so many before you have. The mistake that Martinez was so close to realizing. That when you battle Golem, you are fighting a truer and more perfect opponent than you could have ever hoped to imagine. A man who makes the eye betray the mind and lures fools to believe that he suffers from the same frailty of all the others they've battled. Reality shall flow and blood shall surge like so many faucets. For in Golem is the answer and so shall it be expelled unto you, McMillan. There is no way in hell I have the skill to outwrestle you? You look at me and you see a beast. All size and power, no brain or skill. But you misunderstand because you cannot comprehend. But when I am through utterly massacring you, and I feel that the time for bloodletting has ceased, you will begin to reshape your reality. A coarse wind shall strike you and strip away your simple ideas. Get my name wrong? That's fine. Because I hope you are not taking me seriously. I hope you see just another battle. (Golem stops and the camera catches a sadistic grin in the light.) Because they are so much more fun when they don't run. For as much as some savor the hunt, Golem savors the kill. (He slowly bgins walking again.) Little dog, big dog. It doesn't matter. They all look the same sprawled out at the hands of the one who's name be deserved the respect to be spoken only in swallowed breath. The Age is at hand and, not you...not anybody, Chris, can stop it. It's righteousness shall be spelled out in, Mister Dread. For with the awakening passed, the next step is the devouring of the foolish. YOU, McMillan, shall be Golem's reckoning.
(Golem stops as the road comes to a dead end. He stands directly under a street light as it flickers. Golem looks up at it, and it simply dies out. And all is left is the black.)
Mister Dread
League Member
Revolting?
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-13-02 AT 09:08 PM (EDT)]::FADEIN on the GLCW banner backstage. MISTER DREAD stands there, attired as usual::
MISTER DREAD: A reckoning is at hand? I'm a revolting creature? Reality shall flow and blood shall surge like so many faucets? Huh? What the hell are you talking about? I think you're a little confused. This ain't Armageddon, Colon. This is WRESTLING. Y'know ... guys in tights roll around on the floor with other guys in tights? You;ve gotta be familiar with the concept.
MISTER DREAD: But for all your posturing, and brooding 'lookit me' angst, I do believe you've managed to strike to the heart of the conflict. See, none of this is about how big or strong or fast or charismatic someone is, or how many catchphrases he can slap on a t-shirt. This is about will, and I think you understand that better than most. How do you think I've come as far as I have despite the fact that I'm only half the size of most of the guys here? It's will. Determination, hunger, rage, and emotion. That's what fuels me. That's what drives me to WIN. To CONQUER. And I always do, Gollum. I ALWAYS DO!
::DREAD begins to pace back and forth, fidgeting with his wrist tape::
MISTER DREAD: Now, you say that you hope I'm not taking you seriously. Well, keep hoping. I've got a glib exterior. I enjoy having a little fun, a little mirth at your expense. But believe me when I say that Mister Dread is completely focused on the task at hand. Mister Dread eats, sleeps, and BREATHES Golem. I watch. I listen. I learn. And ultimately, I WIN. Count on it.
::DREAD storms off-camera as we FADE TO BLACK::
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-13-02 AT 09:08 PM (EDT)]::FADEIN on the GLCW banner backstage. MISTER DREAD stands there, attired as usual::
MISTER DREAD: A reckoning is at hand? I'm a revolting creature? Reality shall flow and blood shall surge like so many faucets? Huh? What the hell are you talking about? I think you're a little confused. This ain't Armageddon, Colon. This is WRESTLING. Y'know ... guys in tights roll around on the floor with other guys in tights? You;ve gotta be familiar with the concept.
MISTER DREAD: But for all your posturing, and brooding 'lookit me' angst, I do believe you've managed to strike to the heart of the conflict. See, none of this is about how big or strong or fast or charismatic someone is, or how many catchphrases he can slap on a t-shirt. This is about will, and I think you understand that better than most. How do you think I've come as far as I have despite the fact that I'm only half the size of most of the guys here? It's will. Determination, hunger, rage, and emotion. That's what fuels me. That's what drives me to WIN. To CONQUER. And I always do, Gollum. I ALWAYS DO!
::DREAD begins to pace back and forth, fidgeting with his wrist tape::
MISTER DREAD: Now, you say that you hope I'm not taking you seriously. Well, keep hoping. I've got a glib exterior. I enjoy having a little fun, a little mirth at your expense. But believe me when I say that Mister Dread is completely focused on the task at hand. Mister Dread eats, sleeps, and BREATHES Golem. I watch. I listen. I learn. And ultimately, I WIN. Count on it.
::DREAD storms off-camera as we FADE TO BLACK::
Eating, Sleeping, Breathing Golem...
(Cue Up: "Hurt" by nine inch nails. Fade into Golem, standing beside a large bookcase. He has a small stack of relatively thin books stacked up beside him and he acknowledges the camera. He picks the stack up and places it on a shoulder-high shelf and then walks towards the camera. As he does, he stares down at his dragging feet.)
Golem: Chris...I am so tired. I am so tired of dealing with the same feebleminded misunderstandings. The same arrogant little children, dancing at my feet and chewing at my ankles. Your size? No, that is not what I am talking. Did you hear me? I am not talking about your size. So don't respond by saying I made fun of your size. I am talking about your intelligence. True, you aren't very big, but that is compounded by the fact you aren't exactly a mental giant, either. You see, I am only 6'0". I am dwarfed by the big lumbering oafs of the world. Of course, that is all they are. Oafs. Cretins. Simpletons, a tree in my way that you'd suprised how easy it is for me to push down. Let me give you an example, basically because I doubt you entirely understand me. A pillow could by 10 feet by 2 feet. And kicking it aside would be no problem. But try the same thing with a 8 foot by 2 foot crate full of cement. Kicking it aside is much more difficult. Of course, when you are Golem all problems are easily solved. Gungho is often the stupidest approach a man can take. And that is exactly what you are doing, Mister Dread. You wish to tackle Golem head-on. You heard Martinez last card. You have to hope to out-think me. And that is a feat that Martinez, you, or anyone else in this little organization have really no legitimate chance of accomplishing. Because I am unlike the other wrestlers you have faced in the past. You think it won't be armageddon? Well, maybe you should rethink that phrase after Riptide, because you will quickly learn that, much like beauty, Chris, destruction is also in the eyes of the beholder. What will seem like the same old-same old for the crowd will quickly become a humbling lesson in agony for you. Because it is indeed the time of the reckoning. Yes, McMillan, it is about will. It's about desire. It's what dragged me through the lows and threw me through the highs. Fun? Mirth? They are just words. Suffering...that's a sensation. It transcends good and bad. It is exactly what it's name entails. I have heard far too many people talk about how they enjoy pain, enjoy suffering. Well, there is a great difference between the two. What I do to you in the ring? That will be pain. The reprecussions that you and everyone else here will feel at the hands of Golem? That's true, unadulterated suffering. Because as much as you think this tournament is important, as much as you think this match is important...I understand that it all fits together into something greater. Golem decorates the table so that you all gather and sit in his wake. But no one but Golem realizes that the feast is for one man and that all those who sit before him are merely there, fulfilling a role. Well, Chris McMillan...Mister Dread, I shall take what I need to take from you. I shall mutilate you to satisfy my sicker whims, and then I shall enlighten to salvation at the short end of a long claw. (Golem snickers) I am not a joke, Chris. I am not a fool, I am not one easily conquered. And I am certainly not one to be made fun. All your transgressions shall be paid in full. I guarantee you that. (Golem turns back to the books) Oh, and yes...I do think that you are a revolting creature. But hey, that's neither here nor there, is it?
(Golem slowly picks up the top book and thumbs his way to where he left off. Fade to black.)
(Cue Up: "Hurt" by nine inch nails. Fade into Golem, standing beside a large bookcase. He has a small stack of relatively thin books stacked up beside him and he acknowledges the camera. He picks the stack up and places it on a shoulder-high shelf and then walks towards the camera. As he does, he stares down at his dragging feet.)
Golem: Chris...I am so tired. I am so tired of dealing with the same feebleminded misunderstandings. The same arrogant little children, dancing at my feet and chewing at my ankles. Your size? No, that is not what I am talking. Did you hear me? I am not talking about your size. So don't respond by saying I made fun of your size. I am talking about your intelligence. True, you aren't very big, but that is compounded by the fact you aren't exactly a mental giant, either. You see, I am only 6'0". I am dwarfed by the big lumbering oafs of the world. Of course, that is all they are. Oafs. Cretins. Simpletons, a tree in my way that you'd suprised how easy it is for me to push down. Let me give you an example, basically because I doubt you entirely understand me. A pillow could by 10 feet by 2 feet. And kicking it aside would be no problem. But try the same thing with a 8 foot by 2 foot crate full of cement. Kicking it aside is much more difficult. Of course, when you are Golem all problems are easily solved. Gungho is often the stupidest approach a man can take. And that is exactly what you are doing, Mister Dread. You wish to tackle Golem head-on. You heard Martinez last card. You have to hope to out-think me. And that is a feat that Martinez, you, or anyone else in this little organization have really no legitimate chance of accomplishing. Because I am unlike the other wrestlers you have faced in the past. You think it won't be armageddon? Well, maybe you should rethink that phrase after Riptide, because you will quickly learn that, much like beauty, Chris, destruction is also in the eyes of the beholder. What will seem like the same old-same old for the crowd will quickly become a humbling lesson in agony for you. Because it is indeed the time of the reckoning. Yes, McMillan, it is about will. It's about desire. It's what dragged me through the lows and threw me through the highs. Fun? Mirth? They are just words. Suffering...that's a sensation. It transcends good and bad. It is exactly what it's name entails. I have heard far too many people talk about how they enjoy pain, enjoy suffering. Well, there is a great difference between the two. What I do to you in the ring? That will be pain. The reprecussions that you and everyone else here will feel at the hands of Golem? That's true, unadulterated suffering. Because as much as you think this tournament is important, as much as you think this match is important...I understand that it all fits together into something greater. Golem decorates the table so that you all gather and sit in his wake. But no one but Golem realizes that the feast is for one man and that all those who sit before him are merely there, fulfilling a role. Well, Chris McMillan...Mister Dread, I shall take what I need to take from you. I shall mutilate you to satisfy my sicker whims, and then I shall enlighten to salvation at the short end of a long claw. (Golem snickers) I am not a joke, Chris. I am not a fool, I am not one easily conquered. And I am certainly not one to be made fun. All your transgressions shall be paid in full. I guarantee you that. (Golem turns back to the books) Oh, and yes...I do think that you are a revolting creature. But hey, that's neither here nor there, is it?
(Golem slowly picks up the top book and thumbs his way to where he left off. Fade to black.)
Mister Dread
League Member
Have it your way.
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-13-02 AT 08:59 PM (EDT)]::FADEIN on the GLCW banner backstage. MISTER DREAD stands there attired as usual::
MISTER DREAD: Have it your way, Golem. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you anymore. It's pointless. The proof is in the ring, Golem, and we'll find out soon enough. See, you're doing the exact same thing you accused me of doing earlier. You're not taking Mister Dread seriously. It's going to cost you, Golem. For all your rambling on about suffering and armageddon and salvation and mutilation, you've completely neglected to mention one thing: wrestling. That's what this is. That is what I do, and I do it well. I'm one of the best pure wrestlers in this sport today. That's a fact, it can't be denied.
MISTER DREAD: And as far as my mental capacity, which you seem to question ... well, I suppose that's neither here nor there. You think what you want about Mister Dread. Nothing I can say is gonna have any impact at all on what you think. I could show you IQ test scores, I could show you SAT scores, all of which say that I'm not the brick that you think I am. That's just one more round in the chamber when it comes to crunch time, and I plan to put it right between your eyes.
MISTER DREAD: You say you're not a fool and not easily conquered, and I believe it. But I've made my career out of conquering the unconquerable. Yes, Golem, I believe you're not a fool. But when you say you're not a joke ... well, I'm having a harder time believing that. Make me a believer, Golem. Show me YOUR path to salvation. You'll find that it runs into a dead end, and the only thing standing at the end of it is ME. Count on it.
::FADE TO BLACK::
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-13-02 AT 08:59 PM (EDT)]::FADEIN on the GLCW banner backstage. MISTER DREAD stands there attired as usual::
MISTER DREAD: Have it your way, Golem. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you anymore. It's pointless. The proof is in the ring, Golem, and we'll find out soon enough. See, you're doing the exact same thing you accused me of doing earlier. You're not taking Mister Dread seriously. It's going to cost you, Golem. For all your rambling on about suffering and armageddon and salvation and mutilation, you've completely neglected to mention one thing: wrestling. That's what this is. That is what I do, and I do it well. I'm one of the best pure wrestlers in this sport today. That's a fact, it can't be denied.
MISTER DREAD: And as far as my mental capacity, which you seem to question ... well, I suppose that's neither here nor there. You think what you want about Mister Dread. Nothing I can say is gonna have any impact at all on what you think. I could show you IQ test scores, I could show you SAT scores, all of which say that I'm not the brick that you think I am. That's just one more round in the chamber when it comes to crunch time, and I plan to put it right between your eyes.
MISTER DREAD: You say you're not a fool and not easily conquered, and I believe it. But I've made my career out of conquering the unconquerable. Yes, Golem, I believe you're not a fool. But when you say you're not a joke ... well, I'm having a harder time believing that. Make me a believer, Golem. Show me YOUR path to salvation. You'll find that it runs into a dead end, and the only thing standing at the end of it is ME. Count on it.
::FADE TO BLACK::