Post by Hawk Boy (H) on Jun 12, 2012 7:23:54 GMT -5
(FADE IN: on a long hallway. The Tasmanian oak hardwood floorboards are immaculately polished, probably by hand. Low hanging chandeliers of Swarovski crystal reflect poor light yet radiate in its own glow all at once. Down each side of the walls are framed pictures taken by professional sports photographers from different eras. Some of the stills are black and white, some of them hand coloured, some of them early colour technology. They are of two different men, one lining the right hand side and one lining the left.)
(On the left is predominantly the black and whites of a man in action. His crude hand-crafted mask of an eagle. Its colourations presumably of red, white and blue. The man is a towering monster, of near seven feet in height. His shoulders wide and biceps frighteningly large as he clothesline another competitor in one image and piledrives another in the next. He is JUSTICE EAGLE. A heroic wrestler from the sixties and seventies. A gargantuan in what the industry has become today.)
(On the right hand side is a similarly sized man with a similarly fashioned mask however on the forehead of the mask is an Egyptian eye. One image sees his also massive frame standing on the second rope holding two championship belts up, one in each hand, with a third wrapped around his waist. The next is of him with a sickening grin from the mouth cut-out of his mask, blood running down from under it and over his mouth. He is EAGLE EYE. A superstar from the eighties and nineties. The son of JUSTICE EAGLE.)
(At the end of the hall way, chandelier lighting reflecting off his spangly golden mask with the black mesh face, wearing a black suit with golden pin-stripes and t-shirt beneath it, stands HAWK BOY. The jacket hangs open to reveal the t-shirt's wording. "TALONS OF TERROR" is written in bold gold font across the shirt, its neck slung low like the fashion of today. His golden Italian leather loafers top off his attire with a fat gold Rolex on his right hand. Hanging from the right hand is a red, white and blue mask. He is the son of EAGLE EYE.)
HAWK BOY: "This mask..." (he holds it up for all to see) "...is the mask of Eagle Boy Junior. A mask my father called me into the ring, on his retirement day, to hand me. To pass over the torch. To handover the eagle mantra to the third of his family's generation. A generation deemed to intensify the eagle family's hold on the professional wrestling industry. He called me into that ring to hand me this mask so that I may begin my own legacy in the light of his sun setting. Before his father, my grandfather, at a packed televised event on MY eighteenth birthday."
(The hand holding mask turns into an angry fist, scrunching the mask up in his grasp.)
HAWK BOY: "Eagle Boy Junior.” (he shook his head and clucked his tongue) “Needless to say, I took my father's mask and threw it to the ground. I put my foot onto it and GROUND it into the canvas. I spat on the mask.”
(He straightened his shoulders out with an extra air of arrogance the DHWA fans were yet to see.)
HAWK BOY: “Then I picked it up, dirtied by the heel of my boot, wet from the spit of my disrespect, and told him his legacy dies when his coffin lid closes. If it were HIS expectation for me to grow within the shadow of his name, EAGLE EYE, and the shadow of my grandfather's name, JUSTICE EAGLE, and for him to disrespect me with this name he was handing me. This... this Eagle Boy JUNIOR... then I shall spit on his legacy and let it die with him and rot away as worm fodder with everything that HE represents six feet under this earth.”
(Nodding his head slowly as if punctuating his own point.)
HAWK BOY: "That night, HAWK BOY was born. Of all that glitters and all that is golden... HAWK BOY birthed in the face of adversity with a journey in his life that would see him surpass EVERYTHING his father and his grandfather had created for themselves. Their legacies nothing more than memories for Internet fan boys and it would be THEIR aged and decrepit careers weighed against the success of MY own career. NOT the other way around. I will NOT play second fiddle to their careers.
"I will concrete my OWN path. Lament my OWN legacy in spite of EVERYTHING they offered me. Their kinship in the utmost insulting fashion they could ever provide. The back of their hand.
"EAGLE BOY JUNIOR. I spit on that name. NEVER SHALL I WEAR THE MASK OF THIS INDIFFERENCE! FOREVER IT SHALL STARE AT THE SUCCESS OF THE VAINGLORIOUS HAWK BOY AND QUIVER AT HIS AWESOME!"
(He holds the mask up to his face, chest rising and falling like that of a mad man, before letting it drop to the floor by his feet.)
HAWK BOY: "A similar quivering, I should imagine, which David Wilson suffers from currently. The same quaking that runs through his body at the very MENTION of my name.
(whispering) "Haaaawwwwwwk Boooooyyyyyy!
"I imagine David Wilson, at home, balled up in the corner of his living room with urine staining the front of his strides. Rocking back and forth. He mutters my name maniacally; fear gripping him and slowly choking the breath from him. His family worry for his sanity as every noise makes him jump. Every sound stands the hairs on his neck upright. He cannot sleep. Cannot eat. Everything reminds him of what is in store for him.
“His impending doom.
“Undoubtedly he’s watched the footage from Friday Night Massacre. The footage of me dispensing Captain Ownage as the fool and joke he is.” (Hawk Boy cuts through the air with a hand.) “The man was beaten to a pulp and caved his cowardly chest in beneath the heels of my boots with the Fly By Night and made this company stand up and take notice of who deserves that Smoking Skull Heavyweight Championship.”
(Hawk Boy draws a deep breath melodramatically, letting his shoulders rise and fall as if a great weight were dropping off his back.)
HAWK BOY: “Finally, Stone Cold Steve Austin has opened his eye and seen the forest for the trees. Standing in the clearing, having chopped down all the tall timber Hawk Boy shall stand triumphant in his assault upon this promotion.
“No longer shall I be booked against laughing stocks and spot fest jokes. My legacy will be built upon the fractured bodies of competitors I deem fit to face me inside the DHWA ring. It shall not be privy to underlings such as Captain Ownage. David Wilson might be somewhat of a step up however his journey in the DHWA, albeit as long as mine, impresses me the least.”
(He shrugs nonchalantly.)
HAWK BOY: “David, you might have found some victory over two Neanderthals in Cody Rhodes and Calvin Draven last week. You might have had Cody Rhodes tapping to your tune last week. You might have been successful in three-way combat at Friday Night Massacre, David, but might I remind you that NONE of those two idiots can hold a candle to the talent to ME!”
(He thumbs himself in the chest.)
HAWK BOY: “You think you’re so special simply because Cody yielded to your Crippler Crossface, David? You think that makes you the most technically sound competitor on this roster?
“I stifle my laughter, David, as I promise you what I saw inside that ring did nothing close to impressing me. I’ll remind you that I thumped Captain Ownage all around that ring like a rag doll and you’re next.
“I’m glad that in Belfast, Ireland, they’ve set aside a wing for your memorabilia. That’s wonderful. It must make you feel very special, David. Does it? I’m sure you’ll feel all the more special when they mount your skull on a small pedestal after I’ve kicked your ignorant head CLEAN off your shoulders.
“Although, having seen your abilities I find it hard to believe that ANY museum in the world would shine a light on your mediocrity, David. Then I remember the demographic of the Irish and the stereotypes associated with them. They’re as stupid as they look and you are living proof.
“David, I promise you that when we collide I will force you to submit to my awesomeness with a simple short arm scissors. Your ten inch advantage and seventy pounds do not worry me at all, David, because the bigger they are the harder they fall and you will come CRASHING down to reality.
“What you are looking at, David, is the FIRST Die Hard Wrestling Alliance Smoking Skull Heavyweight Champion. You, dear David, are a part of that history. You should feel proud.”
(Hawk Boy snickers.)
HAWK BOY: “At least you’ll have been a part of SOMETHING worthwhile in your miserable life, David. Even if you never WILL amount to anything other than fodder for my supremacy.”
(Bending down onto his haunches, Hawk Boy stares down at the mask he dropped by his feet. Studying it. His head movements almost bird-like in his examination of the mask. He looks back up.)
HAWK BOY: “Fodder for MY legacy.”
(FADE TO BLACK.)
(On the left is predominantly the black and whites of a man in action. His crude hand-crafted mask of an eagle. Its colourations presumably of red, white and blue. The man is a towering monster, of near seven feet in height. His shoulders wide and biceps frighteningly large as he clothesline another competitor in one image and piledrives another in the next. He is JUSTICE EAGLE. A heroic wrestler from the sixties and seventies. A gargantuan in what the industry has become today.)
(On the right hand side is a similarly sized man with a similarly fashioned mask however on the forehead of the mask is an Egyptian eye. One image sees his also massive frame standing on the second rope holding two championship belts up, one in each hand, with a third wrapped around his waist. The next is of him with a sickening grin from the mouth cut-out of his mask, blood running down from under it and over his mouth. He is EAGLE EYE. A superstar from the eighties and nineties. The son of JUSTICE EAGLE.)
(At the end of the hall way, chandelier lighting reflecting off his spangly golden mask with the black mesh face, wearing a black suit with golden pin-stripes and t-shirt beneath it, stands HAWK BOY. The jacket hangs open to reveal the t-shirt's wording. "TALONS OF TERROR" is written in bold gold font across the shirt, its neck slung low like the fashion of today. His golden Italian leather loafers top off his attire with a fat gold Rolex on his right hand. Hanging from the right hand is a red, white and blue mask. He is the son of EAGLE EYE.)
HAWK BOY: "This mask..." (he holds it up for all to see) "...is the mask of Eagle Boy Junior. A mask my father called me into the ring, on his retirement day, to hand me. To pass over the torch. To handover the eagle mantra to the third of his family's generation. A generation deemed to intensify the eagle family's hold on the professional wrestling industry. He called me into that ring to hand me this mask so that I may begin my own legacy in the light of his sun setting. Before his father, my grandfather, at a packed televised event on MY eighteenth birthday."
(The hand holding mask turns into an angry fist, scrunching the mask up in his grasp.)
HAWK BOY: "Eagle Boy Junior.” (he shook his head and clucked his tongue) “Needless to say, I took my father's mask and threw it to the ground. I put my foot onto it and GROUND it into the canvas. I spat on the mask.”
(He straightened his shoulders out with an extra air of arrogance the DHWA fans were yet to see.)
HAWK BOY: “Then I picked it up, dirtied by the heel of my boot, wet from the spit of my disrespect, and told him his legacy dies when his coffin lid closes. If it were HIS expectation for me to grow within the shadow of his name, EAGLE EYE, and the shadow of my grandfather's name, JUSTICE EAGLE, and for him to disrespect me with this name he was handing me. This... this Eagle Boy JUNIOR... then I shall spit on his legacy and let it die with him and rot away as worm fodder with everything that HE represents six feet under this earth.”
(Nodding his head slowly as if punctuating his own point.)
HAWK BOY: "That night, HAWK BOY was born. Of all that glitters and all that is golden... HAWK BOY birthed in the face of adversity with a journey in his life that would see him surpass EVERYTHING his father and his grandfather had created for themselves. Their legacies nothing more than memories for Internet fan boys and it would be THEIR aged and decrepit careers weighed against the success of MY own career. NOT the other way around. I will NOT play second fiddle to their careers.
"I will concrete my OWN path. Lament my OWN legacy in spite of EVERYTHING they offered me. Their kinship in the utmost insulting fashion they could ever provide. The back of their hand.
"EAGLE BOY JUNIOR. I spit on that name. NEVER SHALL I WEAR THE MASK OF THIS INDIFFERENCE! FOREVER IT SHALL STARE AT THE SUCCESS OF THE VAINGLORIOUS HAWK BOY AND QUIVER AT HIS AWESOME!"
(He holds the mask up to his face, chest rising and falling like that of a mad man, before letting it drop to the floor by his feet.)
HAWK BOY: "A similar quivering, I should imagine, which David Wilson suffers from currently. The same quaking that runs through his body at the very MENTION of my name.
(whispering) "Haaaawwwwwwk Boooooyyyyyy!
"I imagine David Wilson, at home, balled up in the corner of his living room with urine staining the front of his strides. Rocking back and forth. He mutters my name maniacally; fear gripping him and slowly choking the breath from him. His family worry for his sanity as every noise makes him jump. Every sound stands the hairs on his neck upright. He cannot sleep. Cannot eat. Everything reminds him of what is in store for him.
“His impending doom.
“Undoubtedly he’s watched the footage from Friday Night Massacre. The footage of me dispensing Captain Ownage as the fool and joke he is.” (Hawk Boy cuts through the air with a hand.) “The man was beaten to a pulp and caved his cowardly chest in beneath the heels of my boots with the Fly By Night and made this company stand up and take notice of who deserves that Smoking Skull Heavyweight Championship.”
(Hawk Boy draws a deep breath melodramatically, letting his shoulders rise and fall as if a great weight were dropping off his back.)
HAWK BOY: “Finally, Stone Cold Steve Austin has opened his eye and seen the forest for the trees. Standing in the clearing, having chopped down all the tall timber Hawk Boy shall stand triumphant in his assault upon this promotion.
“No longer shall I be booked against laughing stocks and spot fest jokes. My legacy will be built upon the fractured bodies of competitors I deem fit to face me inside the DHWA ring. It shall not be privy to underlings such as Captain Ownage. David Wilson might be somewhat of a step up however his journey in the DHWA, albeit as long as mine, impresses me the least.”
(He shrugs nonchalantly.)
HAWK BOY: “David, you might have found some victory over two Neanderthals in Cody Rhodes and Calvin Draven last week. You might have had Cody Rhodes tapping to your tune last week. You might have been successful in three-way combat at Friday Night Massacre, David, but might I remind you that NONE of those two idiots can hold a candle to the talent to ME!”
(He thumbs himself in the chest.)
HAWK BOY: “You think you’re so special simply because Cody yielded to your Crippler Crossface, David? You think that makes you the most technically sound competitor on this roster?
“I stifle my laughter, David, as I promise you what I saw inside that ring did nothing close to impressing me. I’ll remind you that I thumped Captain Ownage all around that ring like a rag doll and you’re next.
“I’m glad that in Belfast, Ireland, they’ve set aside a wing for your memorabilia. That’s wonderful. It must make you feel very special, David. Does it? I’m sure you’ll feel all the more special when they mount your skull on a small pedestal after I’ve kicked your ignorant head CLEAN off your shoulders.
“Although, having seen your abilities I find it hard to believe that ANY museum in the world would shine a light on your mediocrity, David. Then I remember the demographic of the Irish and the stereotypes associated with them. They’re as stupid as they look and you are living proof.
“David, I promise you that when we collide I will force you to submit to my awesomeness with a simple short arm scissors. Your ten inch advantage and seventy pounds do not worry me at all, David, because the bigger they are the harder they fall and you will come CRASHING down to reality.
“What you are looking at, David, is the FIRST Die Hard Wrestling Alliance Smoking Skull Heavyweight Champion. You, dear David, are a part of that history. You should feel proud.”
(Hawk Boy snickers.)
HAWK BOY: “At least you’ll have been a part of SOMETHING worthwhile in your miserable life, David. Even if you never WILL amount to anything other than fodder for my supremacy.”
(Bending down onto his haunches, Hawk Boy stares down at the mask he dropped by his feet. Studying it. His head movements almost bird-like in his examination of the mask. He looks back up.)
HAWK BOY: “Fodder for MY legacy.”
(FADE TO BLACK.)
