Dean
September 26th, 2006, 02:28 PM
The all-familiar brick wall in a darkened, less traveled alley behind the Murphy Recreational Center is the backdrop of the inane ramblings of Darius Falcon. Are they really inane? Can you not find a word of truth in the dialogue conversed by one of the most controversial athletes in pro wrestling? Listen, as you are judge, juror and executioner.
Darius Falcon:
It seems a lot of people today think they get it. I see a lot of imitators out there – wearing torn jeans, black eyeliner, dying their hair black… wearing women’s underpants…
It doesn’t make you look “cool.” It doesn’t shift the views of those for whom you’ve made this transgression in self-truth; it just makes you look like a jackass.
Yeah, anyone can blather about destiny and fate and throw out a few long words to make it seem cool to the misguided society. They like to view themselves as revolutionaries or geniuses. Well, I’m here to say it won’t work, it isn’t working, and you should stop trying. Fate and destiny are opposite; they are not the same, no matter how many times a garbage wrestler who thinks he can hang with real wrestlers that’s hopped up on H and X, lost everything and everyone following him, and has just one thing left – his shallow, insignificant life – tries to convince you of difference.
Fate relies upon outside, supernatural forces – no, not Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny – but concepts even further misguided and past any sense of reality. Fate depends upon some outside force controlling us, and that no matter what move we make, no matter what course we take, and no matter what decision we choose, our lives are predetermined and premeditated. I’m sitting here, in a darkened alley behind the Murphy Recreational Center, in which I can hear plenty of screaming fans, giddy over thoughts of seeing the best entertainment they can get for ten bucks a pop. What if someone were to stab me right now? Would that be a course of action dictated by fate? No, that would be utter bullsh*t. That would be their destined path, because they feel it’s their destiny to take my life.
Or if I were to… grab this.
Falcon slowly shifts his weight to grab a very dark, concealed black bag that wasn’t seen until he pulled it into the dim lights of the alley. He opens the bag, revealing an AK-47. Falcon snickers, admiring the gun. He strokes it oddly a bit before… licking it.
Darius Falcon:
This little mechanism certainly doesn’t believe in some… fate. It’s the destiny of the beholder to choose – take someone’s life, leave someone’s life… or take my own.
Falcon quickly turns the gun on himself, aiming it at his skull. He grins at the camera, knowing he’s shocking a few people at least.
Darius Falcon:
I could end it all with the pull of a trigger. I could save myself from the societal pressures, the egos, the propaganda, the entire world. It isn’t up to a God or a deity… It’s up to me.
But some people can’t stand that fact. They can’t stand that we’re in control of our lives, our future, our destiny. They have to hold their “faith” in some false deity. They don’t want to believe their decisions actually mean something.
For example, Rob Cavallo – he certainly didn’t think out his decisions. Last week, when he spat in Blaine Williams’ face and humiliated him, he probably thought it was a good decision at the time. But that decision had consequences, Rob. Not only did you get paid back tenfold, in brutal, unremitting violence from the police and BW himself, but you also got your title belt stolen, the one thing that separated you from the rest of the scum here in PWW.
You had gold – we didn’t. But that didn’t mean sh*t to me, Rob, because I’ve held that gold before, and it’s worthless. It means jack sh*t, and they can keep it.
See, for some reason, despite us being on identical levels in this business, PWW sees you as being a step above me, something, that even with my infinite wisdom, I cannot fathom.
Rob, I’ve held the Lucharesu Title before, and it meant nothing. I’ve been in the same companies as you before PWW, and they’ve meant nothing. I joined PWW at the drop of a hat, being the first guy to sign up for this wonderful opportunity; but you held out. You decided to be greedy and win a title from another company, and bring that sh*t here. We didn’t need that drama, Rob. Frankly, we’re above any other wrestling company, we’re above you, and we’re above any championship belts from other companies. The only thing that matters in Pro Wrestling Warriors is competition, and believe me… that other company doesn’t know the meaning of it.
But tonight, I’m going to expand your vocabulary and open your mind, Rob. Tonight, we’re going one-on-one. You’re the lucky bastard who gets to face me in the center of the squared circle. It’s your debut match, and it seems PWW doesn’t want our history to go long forgotten. But don’t worry, Rob. As long as my heart beats and my voice speaks, I will remember everything we’ve been through.
You may have gotten the red carpet rolled out for you when you jumped to Pro Wrestling Warriors, but tonight, the only thing red will be the blood on your face, spattering against the canvas, as I unleash the pain and misery you’ve brought upon yourself and this wrestling company.
This is for vengeance. This is for competition. But most importantly, this is for me, Rob. This is for my self-realization, for my DESTINY… and after I defeat you tonight, Rob, I will be a step closer toward achieving not my fate, but my Destiny…
Falcon chuckles to himself before kicking the camera, sending it into a static frenzy, and this piece in the Darius Falcon collection is finito.
Darius Falcon:
It seems a lot of people today think they get it. I see a lot of imitators out there – wearing torn jeans, black eyeliner, dying their hair black… wearing women’s underpants…
It doesn’t make you look “cool.” It doesn’t shift the views of those for whom you’ve made this transgression in self-truth; it just makes you look like a jackass.
Yeah, anyone can blather about destiny and fate and throw out a few long words to make it seem cool to the misguided society. They like to view themselves as revolutionaries or geniuses. Well, I’m here to say it won’t work, it isn’t working, and you should stop trying. Fate and destiny are opposite; they are not the same, no matter how many times a garbage wrestler who thinks he can hang with real wrestlers that’s hopped up on H and X, lost everything and everyone following him, and has just one thing left – his shallow, insignificant life – tries to convince you of difference.
Fate relies upon outside, supernatural forces – no, not Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny – but concepts even further misguided and past any sense of reality. Fate depends upon some outside force controlling us, and that no matter what move we make, no matter what course we take, and no matter what decision we choose, our lives are predetermined and premeditated. I’m sitting here, in a darkened alley behind the Murphy Recreational Center, in which I can hear plenty of screaming fans, giddy over thoughts of seeing the best entertainment they can get for ten bucks a pop. What if someone were to stab me right now? Would that be a course of action dictated by fate? No, that would be utter bullsh*t. That would be their destined path, because they feel it’s their destiny to take my life.
Or if I were to… grab this.
Falcon slowly shifts his weight to grab a very dark, concealed black bag that wasn’t seen until he pulled it into the dim lights of the alley. He opens the bag, revealing an AK-47. Falcon snickers, admiring the gun. He strokes it oddly a bit before… licking it.
Darius Falcon:
This little mechanism certainly doesn’t believe in some… fate. It’s the destiny of the beholder to choose – take someone’s life, leave someone’s life… or take my own.
Falcon quickly turns the gun on himself, aiming it at his skull. He grins at the camera, knowing he’s shocking a few people at least.
Darius Falcon:
I could end it all with the pull of a trigger. I could save myself from the societal pressures, the egos, the propaganda, the entire world. It isn’t up to a God or a deity… It’s up to me.
But some people can’t stand that fact. They can’t stand that we’re in control of our lives, our future, our destiny. They have to hold their “faith” in some false deity. They don’t want to believe their decisions actually mean something.
For example, Rob Cavallo – he certainly didn’t think out his decisions. Last week, when he spat in Blaine Williams’ face and humiliated him, he probably thought it was a good decision at the time. But that decision had consequences, Rob. Not only did you get paid back tenfold, in brutal, unremitting violence from the police and BW himself, but you also got your title belt stolen, the one thing that separated you from the rest of the scum here in PWW.
You had gold – we didn’t. But that didn’t mean sh*t to me, Rob, because I’ve held that gold before, and it’s worthless. It means jack sh*t, and they can keep it.
See, for some reason, despite us being on identical levels in this business, PWW sees you as being a step above me, something, that even with my infinite wisdom, I cannot fathom.
Rob, I’ve held the Lucharesu Title before, and it meant nothing. I’ve been in the same companies as you before PWW, and they’ve meant nothing. I joined PWW at the drop of a hat, being the first guy to sign up for this wonderful opportunity; but you held out. You decided to be greedy and win a title from another company, and bring that sh*t here. We didn’t need that drama, Rob. Frankly, we’re above any other wrestling company, we’re above you, and we’re above any championship belts from other companies. The only thing that matters in Pro Wrestling Warriors is competition, and believe me… that other company doesn’t know the meaning of it.
But tonight, I’m going to expand your vocabulary and open your mind, Rob. Tonight, we’re going one-on-one. You’re the lucky bastard who gets to face me in the center of the squared circle. It’s your debut match, and it seems PWW doesn’t want our history to go long forgotten. But don’t worry, Rob. As long as my heart beats and my voice speaks, I will remember everything we’ve been through.
You may have gotten the red carpet rolled out for you when you jumped to Pro Wrestling Warriors, but tonight, the only thing red will be the blood on your face, spattering against the canvas, as I unleash the pain and misery you’ve brought upon yourself and this wrestling company.
This is for vengeance. This is for competition. But most importantly, this is for me, Rob. This is for my self-realization, for my DESTINY… and after I defeat you tonight, Rob, I will be a step closer toward achieving not my fate, but my Destiny…
Falcon chuckles to himself before kicking the camera, sending it into a static frenzy, and this piece in the Darius Falcon collection is finito.