Post by Press1269 on Feb 8, 2016 5:49:49 GMT
Storm's rented home in Mazatlan, Mexico.....September 4th 2000
**A GWA cameraman drives his rental car through the sun filled streets of Mazatlan, Mexico. The hosting city to the next GWA event.....Wednsday Insurrection. The reception for the superstars is nothing more than extrodinary in the "Pearl of the Pacific". Overwhelming fan interest drove the GWA to this site, and finally they would see what was so fondly talked about in the United States and European Nations. The GWA cameraman stops his car in front of a large house with large Spanish Style gates, with a wall that stretches around the beach side property. The cameraman checks his Itenarary, and then the address. Nodding his head, he hops out of the car, and starts towards the gates. Along the way, he is stopped by several pedalers who are able to push certain trinquets off on him before he reaches the cold Iron. An intercom system linked to the vacation hideaway behind the wall activates, as the cameraman presses his fingers to it.**
Cameraman: Hello.....this is Bob Finkel from the GWA....I have a camera here, and was hopeing to get a few words?
**For long moments there are silence, but the Iron Gate's slowly creak open allowing him to pass through. He walks down the pebble walkway leading to the front door, and hears the creak of Iron once again behind him. He whirls on his heels only to see the Iron Bars come together encloseing him inside of the wall. There are worse places to be than a beautiful beach home, he thinks to himself while continueing his walk to the front door. Upon descent up the stairs, and reaching the door...he realizes that it is already open. No one is there to be found....nothing but a note.....**
I'm outside on the terace...please enjoy yourself and fix yourself a drink...and then come to me there.
sincerely,
Storm!
**The cameraman surprisedly sets the note on the wooden stand beside the door. This was'nt like Johnny Storm. He did'nt give people free drinks..he never asked them to enjoy themselves.....especially not the lowly cameramen. What was his angle....what was going on with it all! Bob started down one of the hallways layed out before him...not includeing the staircase that went to the 2nd floor. He enters the kitchen where a young mexican man is chopping up some ingredients, and dumping them into a pot. He see's the cameraman, and says something in Latin. The cameraman not understanding...and the cook seeing this hands him a beautifully decorated plate, with a taste of everything that he had been cooking. He offers him a whine as well, to which the Cameraman thanks him the best he can, before stepping through the large double doors at the end of the kitchen leading outside. He looks to his left, and see's "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm sitting in under a shaded part of the deck, a straw hat down ontop of his face as if he is sleeping. At the sound of movement, Storm lifts the hat...seeing the Cameraman, he scoots up from his slumbered position, looking down onto his private beach where some beautiful bikini clad girls play volley ball in the sand. He looks to the cameraman, who sits enjoying his wine and delacacies! Storm watches the horizon of the sea, untill finally the Cameraman breaks into the moment.**
Cameraman: I'm sorry to see this delightful hour end..but I must get down to buisness Mr. Storm. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions if you don't mind?
Mr. Fantastic: No....that's fine. I don't mind speaking anymore...not at all. I have what I want, and I'm reaping a few days relaxation before I embark on the task of destroying it. So go ahead when ever you are ready.
**The cameraman hurridely gets his mechanisims operating, and focuses the Camera upon Storm. He clears his throat..not accustomed to giveing interviews...but going to give it a shot today.**
Cameraman: Well..this is Bob Finkel...part of the GWA camera team that brings you the greatest wrestling action around the globe. I'm here today with "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm! Now...Mr. Fantastic....you have the match signed, sealed, and delivered....Don't you think you should be prepareing for this match rather than soaking up the rays, and watching beautful girls play on the beach?
Mr. Fantastic: (a little disappointed in the Cameramans point of view) What do I need to be worrying about? I'm in the best shape of my life, and I'm sorry....but one more crunch..one more time on the weight bench....is not going to help me in this fight. I'm already at my peak physical condition. I've had a weak off to train, and get in shape. Now....now is the pregame period. Now is mental condition. When I go in there, I am going to be fueld by three things. Desire, Hate, and Revenge. Simply put....I'm letting my mind clear for that moment, and takeing an assesment of my life at this point. You see..unlike my opponent...I don't need Psychiatric Help. I am quite capable of working things out on my own...without haveing a doctor poke around the noggin. You see....for almost two months now I have been breathing, playing, and living a lie. It's true that I played the role perfectly. I mean, who else but Johnny Storm could pull something so ingenious off. I twisted reality, morphed it into what Chris Damm wanted to see...and now...just as quickly...I'm unmorphing it....allowing him to see the Cold..Hard...Truth! Chris Damm is the epitome of what these people stand for.....Alcohol. Drugs. Sex emphasized through Alexis. and most importantly....violent. The only way that I can think of overcomeing such an obstacle....is to take that trophy away from him. I am going to liberate the GWA of Chris Damm. I am going to introduce everyone to the new order of Violence, and one his mantle...his name is dragged under the sea of defeat...that's when my own personal feelings will be satisfied. In one night....ONE NIGHT! This can all be accomplished! Amazing what one can come up with in the matter of a few days.
Cameraman: Yes Mr. Fantastic....you've made it clear on your intentions...but some say that you won't be able to follow through. The fans are backing Damm, and they think you are just another victom!
Mr. Fantastic: Well...to those who are in question.....the end will not become clear untill the Endgame. This segment in wrestling history's final chapter. You see Chris....This little vendetta that I have claimed against you is a chapter in my life. This match up we are heading in to I feel is probably just another match to you. No real emotional ties. The simple Chris Damm ending.....Last Call....1..2...3. You win. But to me....this is a little more. There is alot at stake for me. This chapter in my life...win or lose...will end Wendsday. Cause you see, I am going to come to that ring with the premise of permanently decimateing your career. Even if it means I put my own body on the line. What you are looking at now is not a carbon copy Chris....it is the real deal. That other myth...that other fascade.....THAT WAS A CHARACTER! This...(points down at himself and smirks)..This Chris is not. I am not a changed man GWA....I am just dropping this mask that I have painted for myself, that you all bought into. The ignorance behind it....You don't even realize what this is all over. A tag Championship! HA! The man Chris Damm! HA! This is simply over what the man Chris Damm has become. He's so full of himself, that he's actually convinced these fans that no one can stand up to him! I'm here to take all that from you Damm. So to the fans...Your Alcoholic Hero will be Fantastically Eliminated.
Cameraman: Any closeing comments to leave us with "Mr. Fantastic"?
Mr. Fantastic: (he leans forward, right into the lense of the camera, where the only thing in focus are his eyes...which are bright blue..and burn into the cameramans forehead all the way through the lense.) Chris...Wendsday night...I Close the Chapter on this section of my life. But most importently....I Close the Chapter of your Career!
**Storm stands now abruptly as the Cameraman switches off his camera. He stands leaning against the railing of the terrace, and thinks to himself about all that was said. His jaw set in seemingly anger, the Cameraman nuzzles past him, and exits the terrace for his rental car. Storm watches as the sun begins to disappear behind the horizon of the sea, to which he starts down the steps leading to the beach. The women flock around him, as he smiles and nods at their language. They then leave him at his request as he starts towards the ocean. He loses his flip flops, and slips out of his shirt, dropping it carelessly to the white sand. The incomeing tide rushes in on his uncovered feet, as he continues towards the sun that is setting on the ocean's start...or was it it's end? He walks forward untill waist deep in the sparatic water, as a wave comes crashing down on him. The feeling passes, as he drops to his knees, the salty mirk of the water entering his mouth, all the way to his lungs. He gag's but is submerged now as another wave crashes down upon him. The Water continues to rise, as the tide rolls forward upon the unsuspecting beach. He feels his lungs fill with the substance that has been around since the existance of earth. The stinging sensation caused by the salt in his throat. He feels himself being pulled out to the dangerous waters......lungs on fire now, unable to breathe. Unable to feel himself think....to the point of subconsciousness. He suddenly finds footing in the sand....and plants them so that he can't be pushed any further. He plunges upward out of the water takeing a gasping breath of air. His fists clench at his side as he heavily breathes, seaweed falling down off of his chest. Water beeds down, as more is splashed up by the comeing waves. His eyes adverted towards the setting sun......he is Reborn!
THE TIME HAS COME
THE PLAN REVEALED
AND THE VIOLENCE CAN NOT BE MEASURED
THIS IS YOUR HISTORY.......AND YOUR FUTURE
**A GWA cameraman drives his rental car through the sun filled streets of Mazatlan, Mexico. The hosting city to the next GWA event.....Wednsday Insurrection. The reception for the superstars is nothing more than extrodinary in the "Pearl of the Pacific". Overwhelming fan interest drove the GWA to this site, and finally they would see what was so fondly talked about in the United States and European Nations. The GWA cameraman stops his car in front of a large house with large Spanish Style gates, with a wall that stretches around the beach side property. The cameraman checks his Itenarary, and then the address. Nodding his head, he hops out of the car, and starts towards the gates. Along the way, he is stopped by several pedalers who are able to push certain trinquets off on him before he reaches the cold Iron. An intercom system linked to the vacation hideaway behind the wall activates, as the cameraman presses his fingers to it.**
Cameraman: Hello.....this is Bob Finkel from the GWA....I have a camera here, and was hopeing to get a few words?
**For long moments there are silence, but the Iron Gate's slowly creak open allowing him to pass through. He walks down the pebble walkway leading to the front door, and hears the creak of Iron once again behind him. He whirls on his heels only to see the Iron Bars come together encloseing him inside of the wall. There are worse places to be than a beautiful beach home, he thinks to himself while continueing his walk to the front door. Upon descent up the stairs, and reaching the door...he realizes that it is already open. No one is there to be found....nothing but a note.....**
I'm outside on the terace...please enjoy yourself and fix yourself a drink...and then come to me there.
sincerely,
Storm!
**The cameraman surprisedly sets the note on the wooden stand beside the door. This was'nt like Johnny Storm. He did'nt give people free drinks..he never asked them to enjoy themselves.....especially not the lowly cameramen. What was his angle....what was going on with it all! Bob started down one of the hallways layed out before him...not includeing the staircase that went to the 2nd floor. He enters the kitchen where a young mexican man is chopping up some ingredients, and dumping them into a pot. He see's the cameraman, and says something in Latin. The cameraman not understanding...and the cook seeing this hands him a beautifully decorated plate, with a taste of everything that he had been cooking. He offers him a whine as well, to which the Cameraman thanks him the best he can, before stepping through the large double doors at the end of the kitchen leading outside. He looks to his left, and see's "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm sitting in under a shaded part of the deck, a straw hat down ontop of his face as if he is sleeping. At the sound of movement, Storm lifts the hat...seeing the Cameraman, he scoots up from his slumbered position, looking down onto his private beach where some beautiful bikini clad girls play volley ball in the sand. He looks to the cameraman, who sits enjoying his wine and delacacies! Storm watches the horizon of the sea, untill finally the Cameraman breaks into the moment.**
Cameraman: I'm sorry to see this delightful hour end..but I must get down to buisness Mr. Storm. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions if you don't mind?
Mr. Fantastic: No....that's fine. I don't mind speaking anymore...not at all. I have what I want, and I'm reaping a few days relaxation before I embark on the task of destroying it. So go ahead when ever you are ready.
**The cameraman hurridely gets his mechanisims operating, and focuses the Camera upon Storm. He clears his throat..not accustomed to giveing interviews...but going to give it a shot today.**
Cameraman: Well..this is Bob Finkel...part of the GWA camera team that brings you the greatest wrestling action around the globe. I'm here today with "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm! Now...Mr. Fantastic....you have the match signed, sealed, and delivered....Don't you think you should be prepareing for this match rather than soaking up the rays, and watching beautful girls play on the beach?
Mr. Fantastic: (a little disappointed in the Cameramans point of view) What do I need to be worrying about? I'm in the best shape of my life, and I'm sorry....but one more crunch..one more time on the weight bench....is not going to help me in this fight. I'm already at my peak physical condition. I've had a weak off to train, and get in shape. Now....now is the pregame period. Now is mental condition. When I go in there, I am going to be fueld by three things. Desire, Hate, and Revenge. Simply put....I'm letting my mind clear for that moment, and takeing an assesment of my life at this point. You see..unlike my opponent...I don't need Psychiatric Help. I am quite capable of working things out on my own...without haveing a doctor poke around the noggin. You see....for almost two months now I have been breathing, playing, and living a lie. It's true that I played the role perfectly. I mean, who else but Johnny Storm could pull something so ingenious off. I twisted reality, morphed it into what Chris Damm wanted to see...and now...just as quickly...I'm unmorphing it....allowing him to see the Cold..Hard...Truth! Chris Damm is the epitome of what these people stand for.....Alcohol. Drugs. Sex emphasized through Alexis. and most importantly....violent. The only way that I can think of overcomeing such an obstacle....is to take that trophy away from him. I am going to liberate the GWA of Chris Damm. I am going to introduce everyone to the new order of Violence, and one his mantle...his name is dragged under the sea of defeat...that's when my own personal feelings will be satisfied. In one night....ONE NIGHT! This can all be accomplished! Amazing what one can come up with in the matter of a few days.
Cameraman: Yes Mr. Fantastic....you've made it clear on your intentions...but some say that you won't be able to follow through. The fans are backing Damm, and they think you are just another victom!
Mr. Fantastic: Well...to those who are in question.....the end will not become clear untill the Endgame. This segment in wrestling history's final chapter. You see Chris....This little vendetta that I have claimed against you is a chapter in my life. This match up we are heading in to I feel is probably just another match to you. No real emotional ties. The simple Chris Damm ending.....Last Call....1..2...3. You win. But to me....this is a little more. There is alot at stake for me. This chapter in my life...win or lose...will end Wendsday. Cause you see, I am going to come to that ring with the premise of permanently decimateing your career. Even if it means I put my own body on the line. What you are looking at now is not a carbon copy Chris....it is the real deal. That other myth...that other fascade.....THAT WAS A CHARACTER! This...(points down at himself and smirks)..This Chris is not. I am not a changed man GWA....I am just dropping this mask that I have painted for myself, that you all bought into. The ignorance behind it....You don't even realize what this is all over. A tag Championship! HA! The man Chris Damm! HA! This is simply over what the man Chris Damm has become. He's so full of himself, that he's actually convinced these fans that no one can stand up to him! I'm here to take all that from you Damm. So to the fans...Your Alcoholic Hero will be Fantastically Eliminated.
Cameraman: Any closeing comments to leave us with "Mr. Fantastic"?
Mr. Fantastic: (he leans forward, right into the lense of the camera, where the only thing in focus are his eyes...which are bright blue..and burn into the cameramans forehead all the way through the lense.) Chris...Wendsday night...I Close the Chapter on this section of my life. But most importently....I Close the Chapter of your Career!
**Storm stands now abruptly as the Cameraman switches off his camera. He stands leaning against the railing of the terrace, and thinks to himself about all that was said. His jaw set in seemingly anger, the Cameraman nuzzles past him, and exits the terrace for his rental car. Storm watches as the sun begins to disappear behind the horizon of the sea, to which he starts down the steps leading to the beach. The women flock around him, as he smiles and nods at their language. They then leave him at his request as he starts towards the ocean. He loses his flip flops, and slips out of his shirt, dropping it carelessly to the white sand. The incomeing tide rushes in on his uncovered feet, as he continues towards the sun that is setting on the ocean's start...or was it it's end? He walks forward untill waist deep in the sparatic water, as a wave comes crashing down on him. The feeling passes, as he drops to his knees, the salty mirk of the water entering his mouth, all the way to his lungs. He gag's but is submerged now as another wave crashes down upon him. The Water continues to rise, as the tide rolls forward upon the unsuspecting beach. He feels his lungs fill with the substance that has been around since the existance of earth. The stinging sensation caused by the salt in his throat. He feels himself being pulled out to the dangerous waters......lungs on fire now, unable to breathe. Unable to feel himself think....to the point of subconsciousness. He suddenly finds footing in the sand....and plants them so that he can't be pushed any further. He plunges upward out of the water takeing a gasping breath of air. His fists clench at his side as he heavily breathes, seaweed falling down off of his chest. Water beeds down, as more is splashed up by the comeing waves. His eyes adverted towards the setting sun......he is Reborn!
THE TIME HAS COME
THE PLAN REVEALED
AND THE VIOLENCE CAN NOT BE MEASURED
THIS IS YOUR HISTORY.......AND YOUR FUTURE