TBirdSCIL
League Member
All RP for this match goes in this folder...
"The Wolf" Chris McMillan vs. Angel Castillo
- Thread starter TBirdSCIL
- Start date
Diablo
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 155
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 35
- Location
- Miami, Florida
- Website
- www.lethalwrestling.com
RE:
(FADEIN: Angel Castillo is seated in his usual locale, decked out in some capri shorts and a green tank top with the Cuban flag and the words "mi orgullo" on the bottom, and he's barefoot.)
Castillo: So now my challenge is to face somebody with a major identity crisis. Mr. Chris McMillan, he who was once called "Mr. Dread", but dropped it in favor of a less 50's movie villain-esque nickname "The Wolf" only one card into his career in this federation. Now, I hope he's able to stick with this nickname a bit longer so I know what to call him. But to add to this, his body is laden with a repulsing number of stitches, the cause I don't know, but it is safe to assume most of his flesh isn't his. This leads me to ask of you, McMillan; Do you know who you even really are? From what I read and hear about you from others, you seem to be a sort of chameleon, who's gone through many changes throughout his time. You've never been able to settle permanently on some form or another. This is where you are weak, Mr. McMillan, almost obscenely weak.
(Castillo produces a rolled up old piece of paper from underneath the couch. He unfurls it in clear view of the camera, and we see it is his family tree. After laying it there for a few seconds, he pulls it back to a less intrusive distance from the camera.)
Castillo: You see, unlike you, I know what I am and where I am going, and I draw this from where I came from. I came from a long line of Castillos. A long, PROUD line of Cuban Castillos, and I am proud to be a Castillo. And no, I'm not playing the race card by saying I am better because I am Cuban, ¡Absolutamente no! But it is the fact I know my heritage is what makes me strong. Strong in mind, body, and heart. You seem to be lost and confused, trying to pick a face to wear and a name to be called, and what soul you posess. But I, my feet are on firm ground. I am "El Diablo". I am Angel Castillo, son of Castillos, who shall be father to Castillos, and nothing can change that, nor do I wish to change that myself. So, Chris McMillan, Mr. Dread, The Wolf, whoever you may be, while your trying to figure out if you should go in fatigues, or sweat pants, or some frilly lacy deal, I wish you to bring your best alias to the ring, and to at least know who it was who beat you! "El Diablo", Angel...CASTILLO!
(FTB)
------------------------------
"Life is what happens when you're making other plans"
-John Lennon
(FADEIN: Angel Castillo is seated in his usual locale, decked out in some capri shorts and a green tank top with the Cuban flag and the words "mi orgullo" on the bottom, and he's barefoot.)
Castillo: So now my challenge is to face somebody with a major identity crisis. Mr. Chris McMillan, he who was once called "Mr. Dread", but dropped it in favor of a less 50's movie villain-esque nickname "The Wolf" only one card into his career in this federation. Now, I hope he's able to stick with this nickname a bit longer so I know what to call him. But to add to this, his body is laden with a repulsing number of stitches, the cause I don't know, but it is safe to assume most of his flesh isn't his. This leads me to ask of you, McMillan; Do you know who you even really are? From what I read and hear about you from others, you seem to be a sort of chameleon, who's gone through many changes throughout his time. You've never been able to settle permanently on some form or another. This is where you are weak, Mr. McMillan, almost obscenely weak.
(Castillo produces a rolled up old piece of paper from underneath the couch. He unfurls it in clear view of the camera, and we see it is his family tree. After laying it there for a few seconds, he pulls it back to a less intrusive distance from the camera.)
Castillo: You see, unlike you, I know what I am and where I am going, and I draw this from where I came from. I came from a long line of Castillos. A long, PROUD line of Cuban Castillos, and I am proud to be a Castillo. And no, I'm not playing the race card by saying I am better because I am Cuban, ¡Absolutamente no! But it is the fact I know my heritage is what makes me strong. Strong in mind, body, and heart. You seem to be lost and confused, trying to pick a face to wear and a name to be called, and what soul you posess. But I, my feet are on firm ground. I am "El Diablo". I am Angel Castillo, son of Castillos, who shall be father to Castillos, and nothing can change that, nor do I wish to change that myself. So, Chris McMillan, Mr. Dread, The Wolf, whoever you may be, while your trying to figure out if you should go in fatigues, or sweat pants, or some frilly lacy deal, I wish you to bring your best alias to the ring, and to at least know who it was who beat you! "El Diablo", Angel...CASTILLO!
(FTB)
------------------------------
"Life is what happens when you're making other plans"
-John Lennon
Mister Dread
League Member
Who's yer daddy?
::FADEIN on the GLCW banner backstage. THE WOLF stands there, clad in cuffed jeans, engineer boots, and a t-shirt with the legend MEAT FOR THE BEAST emblazoned across the front::
THE WOLF: So, I came out the loser against Golem. All that talk, all those hard words turned out to be unsubstantiated. Guess you can write off the Wolf now, eh? Feel free to discount me. Feel free to believe that I am a non-factor. No threat to you. Allow yourself to believe that I am of no consequence.
::THE WOLF smiles, an obscene and feral grin that seems too large for his face::
THE WOLF: That’s what Angel Castillo seems to have done. Angel seems to think that because I no longer call myself Mister Dread, well, that makes me weak. Ineffectual. Well let me ask you something, Angel. What in the blue hell does my name have to do with my abilities? How can my name in any way change the training and skill that I’ve acquired over the years? The answer is simple: IT CAN’T, and you’re an idiot for thinking so. In fact, even SAYING something so preposterous makes you look so incredibly stupid that I can’t help but be embarrassed for you.
THE WOLF: Somehow you’ve gotten the idea into your head that because you know your lineage you’re a better wrestler than me. Let me ask you, my deluded friend … what in the hell is wrong with you? How can managing to remember who your great-grandfather is in any way effect your ability to execute a wrestling move? Does knowing the name of your sister’s uncle’s cousin’s seventh wife give you some super power, or some mystic and encyclopedic knowledge of wrestling holds? Once again, you've managed to make yourself look like a moron.
THE WOLF: Look, Castillo … your lineage doesn’t change the fact that you’re a giant walking rectum. You call yourself the devil … I’m not impressed. And even if you beat me, even if you pin me clean … hell, even if you make me submit … well, after the idiotic babbling about your family that you’ve forced upon us I STILL won’t be impressed. I won’t be impressed because I’ve seen first hand the incomperable and mind-boggling vastness of your nearly painfull mental degeneration and I know that based upon that, any victory you might claim over me would be by the purest of chance and unruly circumstance. Bring yourself to the ring, Angel. Bring yourself to Purgatory.
::FADE TO BLACK::
::FADEIN on the GLCW banner backstage. THE WOLF stands there, clad in cuffed jeans, engineer boots, and a t-shirt with the legend MEAT FOR THE BEAST emblazoned across the front::
THE WOLF: So, I came out the loser against Golem. All that talk, all those hard words turned out to be unsubstantiated. Guess you can write off the Wolf now, eh? Feel free to discount me. Feel free to believe that I am a non-factor. No threat to you. Allow yourself to believe that I am of no consequence.
::THE WOLF smiles, an obscene and feral grin that seems too large for his face::
THE WOLF: That’s what Angel Castillo seems to have done. Angel seems to think that because I no longer call myself Mister Dread, well, that makes me weak. Ineffectual. Well let me ask you something, Angel. What in the blue hell does my name have to do with my abilities? How can my name in any way change the training and skill that I’ve acquired over the years? The answer is simple: IT CAN’T, and you’re an idiot for thinking so. In fact, even SAYING something so preposterous makes you look so incredibly stupid that I can’t help but be embarrassed for you.
THE WOLF: Somehow you’ve gotten the idea into your head that because you know your lineage you’re a better wrestler than me. Let me ask you, my deluded friend … what in the hell is wrong with you? How can managing to remember who your great-grandfather is in any way effect your ability to execute a wrestling move? Does knowing the name of your sister’s uncle’s cousin’s seventh wife give you some super power, or some mystic and encyclopedic knowledge of wrestling holds? Once again, you've managed to make yourself look like a moron.
THE WOLF: Look, Castillo … your lineage doesn’t change the fact that you’re a giant walking rectum. You call yourself the devil … I’m not impressed. And even if you beat me, even if you pin me clean … hell, even if you make me submit … well, after the idiotic babbling about your family that you’ve forced upon us I STILL won’t be impressed. I won’t be impressed because I’ve seen first hand the incomperable and mind-boggling vastness of your nearly painfull mental degeneration and I know that based upon that, any victory you might claim over me would be by the purest of chance and unruly circumstance. Bring yourself to the ring, Angel. Bring yourself to Purgatory.
::FADE TO BLACK::