Post by Deleted on Jul 4, 2014 1:59:08 GMT -5
The small jingle of the bell continues to ring even after the video has faded. We are taken to a close up of The Roy's face. He is wearing his cowboy hat which catches the light from a single bulb above and sifts it off of the brim casting a light shadow over his eyes. His expression is dead and his eyes are still as he reaches up above him. We can see only both shoulders and his face and hat as the rest of the room his hidden in darkness. That bell keeps tingling as if the Christmas tree were directly beside The Roy. For just a brief second the picture cuts out and is swallowed by the black and white static of an old television with no signal. Thankfully before anyone has a chance to adjust their television sets, the picture returns to normal. The bell still rings. We see now that The Roy had reached up to grab some sort of scarf that he snugs tightly around his neck. Static consumes the screen again but cuts back just as quick with a now faded out shot of The Roy. He is standing on a wooden chair old and beaten. Chipped and battered.
As our eyes scroll up we see what we thought was a scarf is actually a noose. At this exact moment the small jingle of the bell now becomes a loud church bell ringing. It grows louder and louder with each ring and before we can gather our thoughts....The Roy steps off of the chair. We see the violent jerk of his body for just a split second before tssssssssss. The static is back and it seems this time it is here to stay. Just as viewers begin looking for the remote the picture becomes clear once more. At least there are more lights turned on this time to show where we are. It becomes obvious quickly that we have left that dark room. There's a feeling that maybe even some time has passed.
“It was all too much.”
One woman weeps.
“...or just not enough”
A comforting voice replies. What they speak about at this time we aren't sure but there is plenty of scenery to take in. Rows and rows of stained glass with many well known faces embedded in them wrap around and dance with the flickering sconces. We can't make out too much of what is in the distance as the camera rests just behind a few pews of people sitting and crying. They all whisper amongst themselves and they all look for a shoulder to bury their faces in. We zoom in past the crowd and rest at the center of the stage. The focal point of every moist pupil in the room is a most gorgeous casket shaped of hand carved wood. Each corner takes a sharp pointed turn running a smooth path until the next. Placed on top is a tall and wide draping bouquet of white flowers dripping at every few inches.
A few inches away we see a black and white photo of The Roy in his finer days paying tribute to his life. This marvelous set of layered wood seems to have formed his death bed. Nothing we see is making sense and the trend continues as we hear a throat being cleared. We scan slightly over until The Roy comes into view. Standing alive and well.....actually perhaps not so well, however alive nonetheless. How can any of this possibly be true if we just witnessed his suicide.....oh right....the green screen. The Roy speaks up as it is now clear he hasn't actually died.
“Thank you all for coming today.”
The Roy seems out of place wearing an all black suit buttoned to the neck. He is dressed to perfection with his suit as sharp as the casket edges. Even in this bizarre time he still refuses to take off the Cowboy hat. Anticipation builds during the pause between each sentence as we wait for answers. Some of the crying has even subsided to make room for The Roy's voice to echo the halls. The Roy is standing behind a podium with what we can assume is some sort of speech he keeps scanning with his eyes from time to time. The microphone is bent in his direction for optimal performance.
“Since I started in the WFWF I have faced the same questions repeatedly. People want to know who I am. Why I am here. How I got here. There has been more talk from the crowd about my past than there has been from me. I have been credited for my past and in the same breath been scolded for it. I've tried my best to leave my past behind me but I find myself realizing that I'll find no success here if I don't clarify who I am. So if you'll all bare with me for just a while I'd like to use this time to put the past to rest.”
This all seems so ridiculous that we would be gathered in a church for a symbolic death but yet everyone in the audience is taking it as serious as could be. They are all paying close attention while some still cry and try to hold it together.
“Life for me wasn't as traditional as some. I may not have had it as bad as some but I sure could compete with most. Early off my Mom decided that she didn't want me very much. My Dad had been killed not long after my birth an my Mom found a new man by the time I was five. It wasn't until I witnessed him strangling her with a phone cord that my Grandmother stepped in and took me away. My Mom could have fought it but she didn't. She knew keeping me meant leaving her boyfriend. That in her mind was not a fair trade. For the sake of not wasting anyone's time lets skip ahead a few years. Two sisters later my Mom lost two more baby Daddy's. One killed himself and the other was murdered. My Mom turned to alcohol to cope. At some point in this mess I had returned to stay with her for no reason other than I had found a girl in her neighborhood to make my life worth while. The first person to give me any validation or sense of meaning. Early on I started trying to surround myself with beautiful woman or shiny new toys to try and distract myself from overall misery."
At this time Roy holds the paper up and it's now revealed to be some sort of photo. He stared deep into with his eyes almost watering. They become a gentle pink around the pupil. He has some connection with this photo that has not yet been made clear to us. Could it be the girl he speaks of?
"At night though when all your friends went to bed and all your “buddies” logged off of AIM you are left with just yourself to reflect on. Those night's were the hardest for me. I didn't like being left alone. Thankfully most of the time I wasn't. Since both little sisters, were left under my care for always unknown periods of time. Our mom would come home long enough to get dressed to go to the bar. The youngest sister would often cry immediately when seeing our Mom. I guess her heart was constantly broken because she missed our Mom so much but she never stuck around. She became clingy and saddened for a long time. Actually I can recall one instance in particular. It was my sixteenth birthday and my Mom had been working all day. She got off at nine and called me to tell me to take my sister into the basement while she came in and got dressed to go out. This was her method for not having to deal with the child. She did it most nights but I already knew this time was just a ploy so that she could bring me in a cake and my family could sing to me.
I played along with it and when she finally called to say she left I thought about how awkward it was gonna be to go upstairs and stand there looking surprised while they sang to me. I walked up those wooden steps and I opened that door and there was not a single person in that house. She seriously left me. Now I want to be clear here. In retrospect I don't blame my Mom too much for these actions. She was only doing what she could do to cope. She was molested by her Dad, had three kids and lost each one of the loves of her lives. If she needed a few beers to not cut her own throat then fine drink up I suppose. Besides it was these hardship that made me a better stronger man. Or so I'd leave you to believe. On the outside I build a nice sturdy brick wall but inside it was all collapsing on top of me. I had been burdened too much at too early an age. I didn't know how to deal with it. I handled others problems and I raised my sisters well but I destroyed myself more and more. I ate constantly. I looked for self worth in any girl that would say hello and when they said goodbye it took all my energy to not make final use of the box cutter in the kitchen cabinet.”
All the sobbing and all the crying had finally ended completely. Every person in the room was hooked on his every word. A few times they would share a glance of sadness between each other but for the most part they all looked directly at The Roy. He used the palms of both hands to wipe his face from forehead to chin, collecting himself emotionally he draws us back in to the story.
"I guess ultimately that's why I got into wrestling. Besides the obvious means to vent through beating people up weekly there was also a spiritual validation. The feeling of performing and being better than everyone else. I didn't have anyone to bring school trophies home to but in pro wrestling when I won gold the world would see it. Championships can't just leave you like girlfriends do. When you lose a championship you understand that it is because you lost the match. You don't stay up wondering if it's because you were too fat. Or because your job didn't pay enough. OR IF THE OTHER GUY JUST HAD A BIGGER ….."
The Roy seals his lips tight and quickly. He doesn't feel comfortable repeating the rest but we can pretty much gather where he was headed. He had shown great anger in that last sentence but quickly regrouped back to a calm collected state of mind. He looks down at the photo and runs his fingertips along its edges. With emotions this close to his sleeve we understand that whoever is in that photo is a much more recent love.
"Those feelings have been resurfacing lately. You want to know why I am here in the WFWF. You want to know why any of this matters. It's simple. Dex. I saw him on his way into the arena one night. He had with him the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Unfortunately it was not my first time seeing her. I had fallen in love with her a long time ago and now I find out she goes home with Dex at night? She shares his bed? I'm not okay with that. Not at all. What does he have...that I don't? Before my match last week I saw her with him. He gave her a kiss before turning a corner. She was hanging on his shoulder. She was beautiful. She has this perfect golden glow and these beaming blue eyes that I swear you could see the earth in if you looked hard enough. He loves her so much. I can see it. So do I. In this world I don't really have a whole lot to live for. That's what makes me so dangerous to compete against. In those case where most people would slow down for concern with their health, I push even harder for lack there of."
The Roy looks up from the photo and directly into the camera. One of the people sitting a few inches from him gently become transparent before fading completely. This is the case with a few others slowly as The Roy keeps talking.
"Every time a bell rings....an angel gets it's wings. That wasn't the case for you though Dex was it. There was no bell ringing. Every champion I've ever met has had their reign announced through three rings of the ring bell before enjoying the spotlight. You earned your wings another way didn't you? They were handed to you. The man who comes to us all the way from heaven couldn't even earn his own wings. What a shame. I think what truly says the most about you is that you accepted the title. You wear it proudly and you answer to the word champion. A real man with any respect for the business wouldn't lay a single finger on that title until he had EARNED it. Until he had FOUGHT and CLAWED. I guess there's a different guideline for morals in heaven."
At this time now every single person sitting in the church has now faded out. With no people left to be absorbed by thin air, objects begin to transcend into nothingness. It starts with a few pedals before the whole bouquet. A few candles before the whole sconce. Through it all The Roy remains and continues to speak.
"You've gotten to know me pretty well over these last few moments together. Actions will always speak louder than words. I've answered almost all your questions. Who am I. Why am I here. All that's left to answer is why do I do the things I do."
The scene has completely destroyed itself until all that is left is a completely empty church, The Roy and his photograph. A bright green creeps in from the left of the church walls until it has spread all the way to the other side. We are now left with Roy standing in front of the green screen left to answer for all he has done.
"As the man cast to the leading role in the story I just told is there really much more explanation needed as to why I spend so much time in front of the green screen? I don't want to keep living in that story. I want to write my own novel and remember that. Be remembered ….for that. When I first got into wrestling they shot these great promos for me where I would stand on mountain tops or wrestle grizzly bears. Not the most inspired vignettes I'll admit but they were mine. They became my memories. Think of the mind as a computer. Filled with all these memories and you can try to delete or forget those memories and sometimes you succeed but for the most part they will always remain lurking in the background until you can over write them with new data. New memories. When I film and edit myself that is distraction enough for me to forget. When I actually watch the completed product enough I begin to feel the experience of what I just acted. Not everyone is going to understand this but it's just what I learned is best for me to cope with a world I never belonged in. A world that made me so cold and so hateful."
The Roy smirks a little while adjusting his head downwards. He looks up at us out of the corners of his eyes and speaks out in a soft voice.
"My mom had a massive stroke when I was 18. In my head she died that day. She was the last parent figure I had and believe it or not over the years, through my Grandmothers passing my and my mom became very close. She was the last person in my life who I could do no wrong by. She was in my home not long ago and her nurse was out to see her. Her vitals were low and they needed to rush her to a hospital and she looked up at me terrified of another stroke and asked me to please go with her. She even openly admitted she was afraid and didn't want to be left alone. I lied. I told her I had to work. I did this because I didn't want to spend my day I the hospital even though I knew full well events could take place that could make this encounter our last and I felt nothing of it. No regret or remorse. The only shame I felt was that I actually hadn't felt any shame haha. I'm not sure why I'm even sharing this portion of my life. I guess I'm just proud of myself for it?
The same way I will feel proud in that WFWF ring this week when I humiliate Dex hopefully with the love of our lives looking on. She will see who the better man is and maybe one day it will be my waist that she wraps her arms around. I can dream can't I? Soon Dex a new bell will tole and it will signify my victory over you and the earning of my wings. I won't be satisfied with just that though. I've never been so easily pleased before. I intend to bathe in your bloodshed as I cut the wings from your back and claim them as my own. A trophy if you will. Bring her with you Dex. I want her to watch what I do to you. I want the world to watch as the bell rings. As The Roy reigns."
The Roy stares directly into the camera for a few moments before plucking the photo from his palms and walking out of frame. There's a slight audio feedback generating a faint buzz in the background. Out of pure curiosity the camera pans down towards the photograph that had gotten Roy so worked up. Zooming in it all becomes clear. We see Dex. With him is as described, a girl with a golden glow. Beautiful earthly blue eyes. Dex's golden engraved wings. Hanging on his shoulder is the WFWF championship.
To This image, the camera fades to black.
I dont know good luck