Post by Kyle Travis on Jun 13, 2014 5:56:50 GMT -6
::To most people, a crowbar is a tool used to open boxes or doors or even smash open windows in extreme cases. It is a long metal tool possessing a curved tip, flat tip that allows for leverage. The rounded end gives way to a straight metal tool that ends in a slight upward curve and another flattened tip to wedge into something.::
::The one set on what appears to be the top of a work table is a dark grey, made of titanium, which makes it a lighter weight, and yet, more durable as titanium a very durable metal. All along the tool over are the dark spots; the unmistakable staining of dry blood. Among all the tools hanging on the wall above the table, the crowbar seems to have been given the most care and used the most, though not for its original purpose.::
::A photograph is slide under the tool. The photo is of the moment the Silver Baron revealed to the world that he was Oblivion. A familiar looking hand lifts the crowbar slowly from the table.::
::Kyle Travis lifts the tool that he as used as a weapon for over a decade. It is impossible to tell whose blood stains the metal given the number of people Travis has assaulted with it. He looks at it the way someone looks over a gun or a sword. In his hands it has been a devastating weapon, the perfect tool for a cold-blooded, ruthless, sadistic bastard to do his job.::
“I find myself wondering about the mask, Silver Baron. I wondered why you were wearing it. I wondered if it had a meaning or significance. And then I realized that it did not.”
“In the Mexican style of lucha libre, the mask is part of the tradition, dating back to the ancient Aztec warriors. However, that is not why I think you are wearing the mask. It has nothing to do with the pride or honor of a warrior.”
::Slowly, the current reigning and defending and first-ever UWA North American Champion twists the crowbar in his hand, letting the curved round edge move back and forth.::
“I am really hoping it is not some sort of fetish, and if it is, please do not tell me, because I never want to know if it is.”
“Other times, a mask it so hide an identity, either to protect someone or something, or to create an image used to intimidate. This has been done for centuries with the Persian Immortals, the Klu Klux Klan, ninjas, costumed superheroes and various literary characters.”
::Travis stops twisting the crowbar.::
“This not some sort of bizarre Batman thing in which Bruce Wayne is the mask and Batman is the real persona. Oblivion is NOT the real you and Silver Baron just this mask you wear around and project to everyone out there.”
::“The Canadian Legend” shakes his head..::
“No, the reason you are wearing the mask is not because you are scared of the monster inside you or to try and protect anyone or to invoke a warrior spirit or because you have a split personality or any reason you could give me Silver Baron. No, the simple fact of the mask is that you needed an excuse.”
“You needed to make an excuse for what you did and so you created Oblivion and you are now trying to convince everyone out there that you have this monster deep down. Unfortunately, no one is buying it. It is something for you to use to blame when and if Dark Camelot stops wasting everyone’s time and valuable roster space, and realizes that they might actually be worth something and a force to be reckoned with.”
“There is no dark side that you have kept at bay for all these years thanks to the miracle of medication and therapy. There is no evil inside you that just suddenly woke up inside of you and now must fulfill the bloodlust you have been denying it. A demon has not possessed you and unleashed a demon within that had lain dormant for all these years.”
“What this is Silver Baron, Oblivion, or whatever the hell you want to call yourself, is to try and convince everyone that you are not a complete and total wimp. This is not a demon. This is not a devil. This is not a sadistic monster. You can think that, but what you did to Stalker Knight, hiding behind a mask and then blaming it on some sort of split personality is the actions of a coward.”
::Travis looks a bit confused, sounding almost amused by this whole situation.::
“What kind of pimp cannot protect his whores?”
“What does it say about the standards to which Las Vegas holds its pimps when they cannot protect their own whores? Should you not have been able to protect them or keep them safe without putting on a mask and creating some alter ego to make yourself look badass rather than pathetic? Those girls were already failed by their fathers and other role models, otherwise they would not be whores, but for their own pimp to fail them is just shameful.”
“And it was Dark Camelot for God’s sakes. Dark Camelot is not some all powerful shadow falling upon the UWA that must be combated. That kingdom has falling into ruin and no one is taking them seriously as a threat. Yeah, sure they had some moments, but the sun is setting on that kingdom, evil Arthur Pendragon is dead and he is not coming back to save them from the joke they are becoming. The only way Dark Camelot can recover is to actually get a leader and a sense of direction or, better yet, just break up or get released because it has already gotten sad. And yet somehow, you let a group that makes the Girl Scouts of America seem badass by comparison get to your girls. That is pathetic.”
“If it wasn’t so goddamned sad and pathetic, I would laugh.”
::He pauses and shrugs.::
“Eh, what the hell?”
::He laughs. It is a malevolent laugh, but still it has a bit of mirth in it as he appears to find this comical. He stops laughing after a moment and shakes he head, smirking a bit when he stops.::
“So rather than take the fight to Dark Camelot, rather than grab a chair and waylay Knight, you decide the only way to save face is to put on a mask, claim to suffer from a split personality disorder where your other personality just happens to be the guy who can do what you failed to do, a “sadistic monster”, “a devil”, “a demon”, as you claim.”
“I fail to see exactly how the whores you already failed to keep safe once will feel safer knowing that at any moment their pimp will just become a monster.”
::He stops smirking.::
“I have spent a career defining sadistic. I proved that you do not need to be nearly seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds to qualify as a monster. You just had to have the will to act on those impulses and the ability to fulfill them. And in every terrible, violent, horrible act I have ever done, I have never once worn a mask. I have never created an alternative persona to bludgeon someone with a crowbar. I have owned up to every single act I have done, no matter how horrifying it was.”
“Hell, I have a collage of my destroying a woman’s career and her entire family mounted on my trophy wall!”
“Now don’t get me wrong. I agree that Knight had it coming. But you, Silver Baron, are weak and you are a coward. You had every right to do what you did and no one would have argued against it, but you lack the ability to take the credit for it, to own it. You are not going to convince me that inside of you is a demon, a devil, a sadistic monster waiting to be unleashed. You are not going to convince me that not wearing the mask keeps him at bay or that you fear what Oblivion is capable of. You are not, because every one of those is just crap.”
::Slowly, he starts to twirl the crowbar as one would twirl a cane. It is clear that this is a practiced motion, done several times over the years.::
“There is no monster. There is no devil. There is not evil sadistic demon hidden inside you, Silver Baron. There is nothing evil inside you to fear because there is nothing evil inside you.”
::There is a cold, matter-of-fact tone in his voice.::
“You are not some creature spawned from the darkest depths of Tartarus. You are not an evil that even Hell fears to unleash. You are not some nightmare that has risen from the Abyss. You are not the darkness or the fifth Horseman or whatever. You are a lousy pimp who was too weak and too pathetic to protect his whores from a pack of losers who have pretty much become nothing more than the kids at my daughter’s school who dress all dark and act like that somehow makes them all dark. You are in a fight with the emo kids and you are too goddamned weak and pathetic to actually kick their asses without putting on some stupid mask.”
“I could throw one of your girls $1000, wail on them with this crowbar far worse than any of the poor and lousy fathers they all had abused them and be ABSOLUTELY confident that you will do NOTHING about it because deep down you know you can’t. If you couldn’t do anything when a bunch of wannabe badass emo kid posers decided to go after them, then you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do anything against me.”
::He sets the crowbar down and throws his arms up into the air as he turns away from the table.::
“Oh but now I have done it!”
::Travis smacks himself in the forehead.::
“Like every victim in a horror movie, I did what I am not supposed to. I sassed the demon that’s been haunting my girlfriend since she was a child. I took a shower. I opened the door I was not supposed to open. I went into the obviously evil, creepy looking house. I read from the book I should never have opened. I watched the damn tape that somehow kills me. Now here comes the scary thing to kill me and there is nothing I can do about it. Oh, woe is me.”
::He turns back to the table, his hand sliding down the length of the crowbar he has used to shed the blood of so many victims time and time again to earn his reputation as a monster, as someone that has been declared to be “evil” many times in the past.::
“You know what Silver Baron, Oblivion, whatever you want to call yourself this week, I want the so-called monster. I want to face this devil, this demon, this sadistic monster you claim to have inside you. I want it because I want to show you EXACTLY what I monster is supposed to be.”
“Do you really think I am afraid of you? Do you think for an instant I am here worried about the possibility of having to face Oblivion? You can tell the entire world that you looked into yourself and stared into the Abyss and it swallowed you, creating this monster and you will convince no one. No, Silver Baron, when you looked into the abyss, you soiled yourself and ran away, and that’s why rather than actually man up against the Dark Camelot, you are creating some ridiculous persona to stop them because you somehow think it makes you sound less pathetic and cowardly. News flash, it does not.”
::He picks up the photograph and looks at it for a moment.::
“I know evil, because in over half the companies I have worked for there is some guy who declares that I am evil. I know what it takes to be a devil, a demon, a monster because I have done things in my career that made what you did two weeks ago to Knight seem like something one of your whores would do for $20. I looked into myself, stared into the abyss and the abyss blinked. You are not a monster Silver Baron, Oblivion. You’re just a sad little man in a playsuit pretending to be something you are not and will never be capable of being.”
::Looking up from the photo with those cold predatory eyes, he tears it in half, then in forths and then eighths before throwing it onto the ground. He once again picks up the crowbar, his weapon of choice for many terrible things he has done and plans to do, and points it forward, like someone does with a sword. In his voice is a cold determination to carry out what he promises to do.::
“At Monday Night Mayhem, show up wearing the mask or don’t. Show up as Silver Baron, Oblivion or make up a whole new personality. Hell, walk to the ring dressed like Mary Queen of Scots if it makes you happy. You are going to bow to “the Once and Future King” as I teach you the meaning of the word sadistic. You will understand exactly what it means to be a devil, a demon, a monster, because you are about to challenge and learn form someone who has defined those terms again and again and again.”
::The scene fades out on Travis holding the blood stained crowbar before him.::
::The one set on what appears to be the top of a work table is a dark grey, made of titanium, which makes it a lighter weight, and yet, more durable as titanium a very durable metal. All along the tool over are the dark spots; the unmistakable staining of dry blood. Among all the tools hanging on the wall above the table, the crowbar seems to have been given the most care and used the most, though not for its original purpose.::
::A photograph is slide under the tool. The photo is of the moment the Silver Baron revealed to the world that he was Oblivion. A familiar looking hand lifts the crowbar slowly from the table.::
::Kyle Travis lifts the tool that he as used as a weapon for over a decade. It is impossible to tell whose blood stains the metal given the number of people Travis has assaulted with it. He looks at it the way someone looks over a gun or a sword. In his hands it has been a devastating weapon, the perfect tool for a cold-blooded, ruthless, sadistic bastard to do his job.::
“I find myself wondering about the mask, Silver Baron. I wondered why you were wearing it. I wondered if it had a meaning or significance. And then I realized that it did not.”
“In the Mexican style of lucha libre, the mask is part of the tradition, dating back to the ancient Aztec warriors. However, that is not why I think you are wearing the mask. It has nothing to do with the pride or honor of a warrior.”
::Slowly, the current reigning and defending and first-ever UWA North American Champion twists the crowbar in his hand, letting the curved round edge move back and forth.::
“I am really hoping it is not some sort of fetish, and if it is, please do not tell me, because I never want to know if it is.”
“Other times, a mask it so hide an identity, either to protect someone or something, or to create an image used to intimidate. This has been done for centuries with the Persian Immortals, the Klu Klux Klan, ninjas, costumed superheroes and various literary characters.”
::Travis stops twisting the crowbar.::
“This not some sort of bizarre Batman thing in which Bruce Wayne is the mask and Batman is the real persona. Oblivion is NOT the real you and Silver Baron just this mask you wear around and project to everyone out there.”
::“The Canadian Legend” shakes his head..::
“No, the reason you are wearing the mask is not because you are scared of the monster inside you or to try and protect anyone or to invoke a warrior spirit or because you have a split personality or any reason you could give me Silver Baron. No, the simple fact of the mask is that you needed an excuse.”
“You needed to make an excuse for what you did and so you created Oblivion and you are now trying to convince everyone out there that you have this monster deep down. Unfortunately, no one is buying it. It is something for you to use to blame when and if Dark Camelot stops wasting everyone’s time and valuable roster space, and realizes that they might actually be worth something and a force to be reckoned with.”
“There is no dark side that you have kept at bay for all these years thanks to the miracle of medication and therapy. There is no evil inside you that just suddenly woke up inside of you and now must fulfill the bloodlust you have been denying it. A demon has not possessed you and unleashed a demon within that had lain dormant for all these years.”
“What this is Silver Baron, Oblivion, or whatever the hell you want to call yourself, is to try and convince everyone that you are not a complete and total wimp. This is not a demon. This is not a devil. This is not a sadistic monster. You can think that, but what you did to Stalker Knight, hiding behind a mask and then blaming it on some sort of split personality is the actions of a coward.”
::Travis looks a bit confused, sounding almost amused by this whole situation.::
“What kind of pimp cannot protect his whores?”
“What does it say about the standards to which Las Vegas holds its pimps when they cannot protect their own whores? Should you not have been able to protect them or keep them safe without putting on a mask and creating some alter ego to make yourself look badass rather than pathetic? Those girls were already failed by their fathers and other role models, otherwise they would not be whores, but for their own pimp to fail them is just shameful.”
“And it was Dark Camelot for God’s sakes. Dark Camelot is not some all powerful shadow falling upon the UWA that must be combated. That kingdom has falling into ruin and no one is taking them seriously as a threat. Yeah, sure they had some moments, but the sun is setting on that kingdom, evil Arthur Pendragon is dead and he is not coming back to save them from the joke they are becoming. The only way Dark Camelot can recover is to actually get a leader and a sense of direction or, better yet, just break up or get released because it has already gotten sad. And yet somehow, you let a group that makes the Girl Scouts of America seem badass by comparison get to your girls. That is pathetic.”
“If it wasn’t so goddamned sad and pathetic, I would laugh.”
::He pauses and shrugs.::
“Eh, what the hell?”
::He laughs. It is a malevolent laugh, but still it has a bit of mirth in it as he appears to find this comical. He stops laughing after a moment and shakes he head, smirking a bit when he stops.::
“So rather than take the fight to Dark Camelot, rather than grab a chair and waylay Knight, you decide the only way to save face is to put on a mask, claim to suffer from a split personality disorder where your other personality just happens to be the guy who can do what you failed to do, a “sadistic monster”, “a devil”, “a demon”, as you claim.”
“I fail to see exactly how the whores you already failed to keep safe once will feel safer knowing that at any moment their pimp will just become a monster.”
::He stops smirking.::
“I have spent a career defining sadistic. I proved that you do not need to be nearly seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds to qualify as a monster. You just had to have the will to act on those impulses and the ability to fulfill them. And in every terrible, violent, horrible act I have ever done, I have never once worn a mask. I have never created an alternative persona to bludgeon someone with a crowbar. I have owned up to every single act I have done, no matter how horrifying it was.”
“Hell, I have a collage of my destroying a woman’s career and her entire family mounted on my trophy wall!”
“Now don’t get me wrong. I agree that Knight had it coming. But you, Silver Baron, are weak and you are a coward. You had every right to do what you did and no one would have argued against it, but you lack the ability to take the credit for it, to own it. You are not going to convince me that inside of you is a demon, a devil, a sadistic monster waiting to be unleashed. You are not going to convince me that not wearing the mask keeps him at bay or that you fear what Oblivion is capable of. You are not, because every one of those is just crap.”
::Slowly, he starts to twirl the crowbar as one would twirl a cane. It is clear that this is a practiced motion, done several times over the years.::
“There is no monster. There is no devil. There is not evil sadistic demon hidden inside you, Silver Baron. There is nothing evil inside you to fear because there is nothing evil inside you.”
::There is a cold, matter-of-fact tone in his voice.::
“You are not some creature spawned from the darkest depths of Tartarus. You are not an evil that even Hell fears to unleash. You are not some nightmare that has risen from the Abyss. You are not the darkness or the fifth Horseman or whatever. You are a lousy pimp who was too weak and too pathetic to protect his whores from a pack of losers who have pretty much become nothing more than the kids at my daughter’s school who dress all dark and act like that somehow makes them all dark. You are in a fight with the emo kids and you are too goddamned weak and pathetic to actually kick their asses without putting on some stupid mask.”
“I could throw one of your girls $1000, wail on them with this crowbar far worse than any of the poor and lousy fathers they all had abused them and be ABSOLUTELY confident that you will do NOTHING about it because deep down you know you can’t. If you couldn’t do anything when a bunch of wannabe badass emo kid posers decided to go after them, then you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do anything against me.”
::He sets the crowbar down and throws his arms up into the air as he turns away from the table.::
“Oh but now I have done it!”
::Travis smacks himself in the forehead.::
“Like every victim in a horror movie, I did what I am not supposed to. I sassed the demon that’s been haunting my girlfriend since she was a child. I took a shower. I opened the door I was not supposed to open. I went into the obviously evil, creepy looking house. I read from the book I should never have opened. I watched the damn tape that somehow kills me. Now here comes the scary thing to kill me and there is nothing I can do about it. Oh, woe is me.”
::He turns back to the table, his hand sliding down the length of the crowbar he has used to shed the blood of so many victims time and time again to earn his reputation as a monster, as someone that has been declared to be “evil” many times in the past.::
“You know what Silver Baron, Oblivion, whatever you want to call yourself this week, I want the so-called monster. I want to face this devil, this demon, this sadistic monster you claim to have inside you. I want it because I want to show you EXACTLY what I monster is supposed to be.”
“Do you really think I am afraid of you? Do you think for an instant I am here worried about the possibility of having to face Oblivion? You can tell the entire world that you looked into yourself and stared into the Abyss and it swallowed you, creating this monster and you will convince no one. No, Silver Baron, when you looked into the abyss, you soiled yourself and ran away, and that’s why rather than actually man up against the Dark Camelot, you are creating some ridiculous persona to stop them because you somehow think it makes you sound less pathetic and cowardly. News flash, it does not.”
::He picks up the photograph and looks at it for a moment.::
“I know evil, because in over half the companies I have worked for there is some guy who declares that I am evil. I know what it takes to be a devil, a demon, a monster because I have done things in my career that made what you did two weeks ago to Knight seem like something one of your whores would do for $20. I looked into myself, stared into the abyss and the abyss blinked. You are not a monster Silver Baron, Oblivion. You’re just a sad little man in a playsuit pretending to be something you are not and will never be capable of being.”
::Looking up from the photo with those cold predatory eyes, he tears it in half, then in forths and then eighths before throwing it onto the ground. He once again picks up the crowbar, his weapon of choice for many terrible things he has done and plans to do, and points it forward, like someone does with a sword. In his voice is a cold determination to carry out what he promises to do.::
“At Monday Night Mayhem, show up wearing the mask or don’t. Show up as Silver Baron, Oblivion or make up a whole new personality. Hell, walk to the ring dressed like Mary Queen of Scots if it makes you happy. You are going to bow to “the Once and Future King” as I teach you the meaning of the word sadistic. You will understand exactly what it means to be a devil, a demon, a monster, because you are about to challenge and learn form someone who has defined those terms again and again and again.”
::The scene fades out on Travis holding the blood stained crowbar before him.::