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Post by devilssaint on Jul 4, 2014 20:16:02 GMT -6
The camera opens up to a bar. It is completely empty and sunlight is coming in through the full panel windows behind the camera. The light stretches across the floor but can't quite touch Nikki in any sort of way. The place is basically sparkling it has been cleaned so well from the havoc that was reeked on it last night. The mess wasn't caused by Nikki's hand for once. This once heavy party boy has calmed down a great deal in the past few months. Instead he sat inside of an empty, mostly likely still closed bar while the barkeep dried the glasses in the dishwasher.
"Hey Nikki, thanks for the help bud, but you can't stay here drinking for much longer. Sorry man, it's a policy thing." The barkeep calls over as the camera comes into focus.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out soon. I've got something to do first." Nikki replies to him. He doesn't tilt his head toward the barkeep; he keeps it forward to stare at the booze wall.
"Look, I have to go up to the office and do the audit from last night. Don't be here when I get back from that, okay? And for god's sake use the back door this time. That way you aren't leaving my bar unlocked in the middle of the shit district. There are plenty of people who would love to put a bullet in my brain for some cash. Alright?" With that the barkeep walks into a back room and out of shot.
Nikki stares forward, grabs the drink that his inside arm had been hiding from the camera and took a drink. The ice kinked against the glass as he moved it. "I hear my debut is against a guy named Achoo-ah. I feel bad for the guy; he must have been teased a lot in high school about that name. Then again, when you're seventeen years old and you change your name to Nikki Venom you get teased a lot too. So I feel you on that one Achoo-ah. I was watching your promo on The Brock Harris last week; bud, I really wish that I could say we have something else in common besides our high school bullies. I really wish that you were as crazy as I am, but that's just not true. You are so much more mental than I am, and that's bad."
He turns his head toward the camera, but is resting his arms on the bar while keeping his head semi-proped up on his hands. "Like when I came in I looked at Mercer, and I saw a crazy fuck in that guy. I saw a guy that's just as batshit crazy as I am. I personally like the guy. He seems pretty cool. He's batshit crazy, but he'd probably be fun to fuck shit up with. Then I look at you and I see all of the people who want to pretend to be a bad ass. I see all of the people who go out of their way to prove to the disbelievers that they are twisted. Trust me, I've seem my share of goofball, party boy, Zack Ryder wannabes pretend to be twisted so they don't look weak compared to someone like me. Hell, I'm sure I did it once or twice in my first year wrestling. You're not one of those people though. You actually look like you are above and beyond batshit crazy. You look like a fucking psychopath that is about to crack. I won't lie, I don't want to be around you; even if it is just a random match, I don't feel safe around you. Normal people, the batshit crazy people like Mercer, the wannabe's, they don't go out and hire people to break them open with kendo sticks! I'll admit, I like beating the shit out of people. I am a sadist. I will admit to that. I feel great knocking someone the fuck out. Feeling your foot hitting someone in the soft and squishy temple while they were just fighting and clawing just to get up from the mat. It is a glorious feeling. I would never want to have an army whack me with kendo sticks though! You are full blown S and M!"
I'm slowly painting the entire picture of what is around him to fill space between him talking. I will admit it! I really don't care. Everyone does it but doesn't want to admit that this shit is just filler text. "So what will happen when I step into the ring with a man who lives by the motto: If you can't hurt me, you can't beat me? Will I be able to hurt you? After that display I will admit it doesn't seem likely. While I watched it I actually bought in to what you had to say. I though you were everything you portrayed in the video... and then Unstoppable happened and, well... you were stoppable. Maybe it was beating you took from the kendo sticks. Maybe your masochism was your downfall. That gives me a lot of hope, I must admit. No one wants to go into a match thinking they will lose. I had no intention of it at all. I know I am going to win my debut. The question is not whether I will win, but how easy will it be for me? Are you going to make it a challenge for me, or are you going to get the shit beat out of you before our match so it's nothing more than Homicide by the Dashboard Light and a one, two, three? It's not that impressive if I'm facing a weakened opponent."
Nikki looks forward again and pulls out his phone. It's a Blackberry Bold; how outdated, am I right? The camera pans around to face him dead on. Now he doesn't have to crank his head to talk to the camera. "" "Let's take a look at this guy. Wikipedia dot orgy. Loading. Loading. Loadin- there we go. Achoo-ah. Ah, Achoo-ah. Stands at six foot four, two hundred fifty pounds. Originally from Hawaii in a place I can't pronounce." He looks up to the camera. "Damn, you are taller than me but weigh less? How little does The Brock Harris weigh for you to be throwing him around like you did when you weigh less than I do. And it's not fat that's weighing me down. Jesus Murphy, mother of God and all that is holy, what the hell is that? I was thinking you were some three hundred plus pound monster that would destroy me!" Nikki is laughing a bit now. "You look like a monster, geez. You don't look like you're two fifty." Laughing fades. "Alright, well I don't need to be as worried now." He shakes his head. "Here's the too long didn't read version of this promo. I'm going to win because you are above and beyond crazy. You are a masochist and will injure yourself before even getting to be, and I'm just too damn good for you to beat me. Sorry, but that is just a fact of life. Now I'm no good at being the first one to put up a promo so I will end it here."
No fancy editing or anything. It literally cuts off when he says that. Youtube brings up a bunch of suggested videos as soon as he pronounces the very last syllable. Black.
Edn. (sic)
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Post by devilssaint on Jul 7, 2014 10:53:23 GMT -6
The screen is black for a few seconds, then the pictures come to life. Nikki is sitting at a desk in a relatively dirty motel room. It's better than some of the motels Nikki has stayed at. If you compared it to the perception of the general populous this is a dirty motel room.
"I left my camera at home." He starts off; his voice coarse from a long day. "I ended up picking this shitty old thing up in Chicago a couple of days ago." He pauses and rubs his eyes. "Let's see how this goes." The camera cuts out for a few seconds before coming back up.
The camera is pointed at the parking lot of the motel. Just beneath the railing is an empty pool. Graffiti covers the piss stained tile inside; at the bottom of the deep end, in the middle of the brown rain water puddle, is a shredded tire. Nikki is leaning against the railing so that he is in the picture, but the focus of it can still be the shitty looking parking lot. "Welcome everyone. What I am going to show you is a world you thought only existed in books and movies. I am going to show you the world that everyone turns a blind eye to because they don't want to have to deal with it. This is a world where nothing changes, and everything happens for the worse. Garbage can babies next to a couple of broken needles. A world of sex, drugs and death. And it is a location like this that it will all happen. Below me you will find a drug dealer who's now completely out of stock. It was a busy night. On every other door you will find a prostitute waking up from a wicked night of partying. She not only got paid, but she may also just happen to have taken the man's expensive watch. Last night, a hit man walked into a motel room, beat the shit out of a guy and warned him to get the money together. Next time, he won't be so lucky as to escape with his life, like the guy down the hall. He was dragged out of his room by a man in black. The silenced pistol tucked into his crotch was very obvious. No one called the police as this druggy was dragged kicking and screaming down the hall because everyone here would rather never have to deal with the police. They'd rather let this man go then be searched and discovered. This is a world where your code is survival of the fittest."
"This is a world that you all ignore. Something you try not to believe exists because as much as you don't want to admit it, everyone wants the same thing. Everyone wants to live in that happy post-war home where mommy and daddy work hard for money, and where the kids are little angels. Everyone wants Fallout 3's Pleasant Lane. They ignore this life; they leave us behind because we are too much of a bother. Now I am here, and I will force everyone in Missouri and any visitors we may get from other states; I will force them to look at what they ignore! I will force them to see the life they try to believe doesn't exist!" He pauses and turns his head to the camera. "And it all starts with Akua."
The camera turns to him, now ignoring the parking lot. "Akua, I was caught off guard when you called me a girl. I understand why you did it. It's a little pay back for calling you achoo-ah. Well done. I'll applaud you on that. Normally people look at me and they throw around the term emo as if they didn't really know what it meant; and most of them didn't. You didn't touch it; instead you poked fun at my gender neutral name. I must say that was a breath of fresh air." Pause. "That doesn't mean you'll win though. I'm still going to kick your ass from Kansas City to Kansas the state. I am telling you that I will beat you and pin you for the one, two, three. I will beat you when it comes to promos. I have what you lack; charisma and a clear head. I don't rely on intimidation tactics. I don't rely on cheap lighting techniques to make everyone believe in who I am. I don't rely on stealing lines from movies." Pause. "Don't get it?" He cups his hands around his mouth and begins a Bane impression. "Ah Nikki Venom, I was wondering what would break first: your spirit or your body." He uncups his hands. "That's pretty much where I saw you going with that. So Bane-kua, what else do you have to throw at me? Your frustrations? As I said before I have a clear mind, I am much less likely to make a big mistake. You on the other hand are in desperation mode. You have been knocked down a couple pegs by people who clearly are not that inferior to you. It is good to know that you underestimate your opponents."
"I will give you credit where it is due. I've both locked in and been locked in the Tongan Death Grip; what is it you call it? Savage lock or something? I don't have my notes in front of me right now. It is a hell of a move though. It hurts like hell and it can lay someone out pretty damn fast. Such is the effect of a blood choke. So I see what you mean when you say I need to bring a bunch of letters attached to various degrees of games to this match. You don't need to work the head for it to be effective, you just need an opening and to hold me back from the ropes. But that's easier said than done. You better clear your head before you get in the ring with me. I will exploit any sign of weakness you show me. Right now, your anger is your weakness. Your sadism is your weakness. And all of this will boil up in the next few weeks as I slowly make my way to Missouri. When I get there. Sorry bud, but you are going down. Take care, and try not to injure yourself before the match this time."
The screen glitches a bit and cuts out.
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Post by devilssaint on Jul 14, 2014 21:22:44 GMT -6
It all starts with a blue screen. The blue turns to black and it reads:
July 14, 2014. 11:28 PM. Sioux City, Iowa.
Nikki is standing underneath a bridge. Graffiti covers the eroded cement wall to the left of the screen. Against the wall is a line of tents, yet no one seems to be around save for Nikki. There is an old rusted barrel clearly being used as a fire pit; or so the blackened rim would suggest. In the first few seconds the video skips. Static fills the border, but it all seems to fade away.
"Here I am underneath Veteran's Bridge in quiet, innocent little Sioux City, Iowa. They don't have to worry about the filth of the world. They don't have to wonder where their next meal is coming from, or where they will be safe enough to sleep. They don't have to deal with the sexual predators, who have been blackballed by the community, that now reside underneath their trusty bridge. They don't see my world... but they will." Nikki's voice slightly echoes around the bridge. "The people in this sick town all think they are special because they have a steady job, a warm meal to go home to, a bed to sleep in. When they see people like me they all give the same sick look. The look like I'm the fuck up in the world. They look at me like I was weak, and irresponsible; that if they were the ones who had been born into hell they wouldn't be who I am." Nikki snaps his head away from the camera to give a quick snicker then looks back. "And the funny thing is... they are the ones who secretly wish to live my life. They want to be able to deviate from social convention and experience what life really is. They want so badly to see my world, but then they want to wake up the next day as if nothing ever happened. They are too scared to deviate. They are too scared to experience life; to experience my world! So now, whether the sick fucks here in Sioux City, or the sick fucks in Kansas City, like it or not they are going to see my world."
Nikki lowers his head to brush his spiked hair back with his hand. There is a cigarette burn in the top right corner, and for a split second a picture shows of a highly contrasted Nikki face to face with the camera. Every hair falls back into place as it is freed from the palm of his hand. Nikki has his eyes closed and keeps his hand at the back of his head. A very loud tractor trailer drives over top of Nikki from the top of the bridge. He waits a few seconds after it passes. "Here is where I thought Akua would come in." Nikki says as he resets his hand, raises his head and opens his eyes. "After hearing you in the first promo I honestly thought this is where you would come in. Akua, I thought you might actually be able to see my world for what it is. I thought you had the potential; all you needed to do was open your eyes and see it. I saw your first promo and I really thought that you'd accept what I wanted to show you... but then you just showed your true colours didn't you..." Nikki says, frustration building up behind his voice.
As the frustration builds Nikki's voice becomes distorted. "I thought I had found myself a brother who, after all of this fighting was done, could stand beside me as an equal as we brought heaven down and raised up a whore. Then your next promo comes along and I find out the hard way that I was wrong. That I found nothing more than a poser. You sit on a beach, in a very tranquil scene and pander to the audience thinking that they will somehow like you for it!" He emphasizes his statement by finishing it with the upward inflection of question; as if he were questioning the judgment of Akua. The distortion fades. "These people-" he shoots his arm and points toward the wall as if that somehow pointed out the audience. "-don't give a damn about you. They don't care about whether or not you have a lengthy, successful career! They don't care if you are healthy or if you get injured. They don't believe in you, and the only reason they cheer is because you pander to them. You try to build a connection with them." Every time he talks about the fans his arm jerks as if it were supposed to emphasize his point. "The sad part of it is that the connection you are trying to build is only skin deep. When they go home they aren't thinking about your match, they don't remember your name..." Again Nikki looks away to snicker. "They don't even mistake your name as Achoo-ah. They just don't remember you. They remember booing Bryce Manning, or cheering on the Bonecrushing Phallus. They remember Badger and Frank Washington; they won't remember you or I. We are not special, but you think you are. That's part of the problem. You think you are special enough to get a championship match against Bryce Manning. Your little I have a dream speech isn't going to bring it to you. Ripping off Bane from the Dark Knight Rises isn't going to get you a title match. Your delusions of grandeur are the exact reason you fail to see my world. It is the exact reason why you don a savage persona, and yes I am calling you out on that one. My life isn't something I can turn on and off when I want people to think I'm tough. I don't have that benefit like you do. You want to insinuate that you have some constant anger that hides below the surface craving its next chance to rise!" He emphasizes his statement in the form of a question. "Maybe it was your stupid glasses... but I saw right through you. I took a closer look when I watched your promo and I saw right through you! I didn't see any of the emotion I saw in your previous promos. I went back and rewatched everything... all of your promos and I saw the same thing. The lack of belief in what you were trying to portray. I saw in your eyes that everything you said was a lie. And I'm calling you on it." The camera starts to glitch. The contrast spikes and the scene darkens until nothing is visible. Footsteps are heard and they louder with each step. The camera glitches out some more as the sides of the screen flash neon colours. Imagine an old VHS playing after running it through a spin cycle of magnets. Finally, the screen lightens a bit. The contrast is really high, and all that is seen is Nikki's face. The same image as the split second image earlier. "Do you think my world is a joke?" The screen starts to double over (again, like a VHS in poor condition). The scene is frozen on Nikki's face as the picture starts running up the scene and completing itself on the bottom. Footstep start again, but this time they get quieter until the end of the video.
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