Post by deadhead4obama on Dec 22, 2012 19:56:17 GMT -5
[Darkness dissolves...]
[In the quiet still of the winter night, there is a small fire, crackling and burning with energy. The master, "The Wolf" Lark Fenriz rests in peaceful slumber, as his page "Thirty Below" Shawn Ryder sits by the fire, Indian style, eyes glued to the dancing flames.]
RYDER: So, you think you got us all figured out do ya, coppers?
[Shawn shakes his head.]
RYDER: I fuckin' beg to differ.
[He snarls, his top lip even curling a bit.]
RYDER: You flap them gums about how we don't care about wining the tag team titles and because you _DO_ that gives you some sort of advantage. HA! You _WISH_ we didn't care about the fifteen pounds of gold. You _DREAM_ that such things aren't a part of our grand scheme of things.
But sorry, piggly wigglies...
They certainly _ARE_!!!
[Ryder bellows out one evil, bone chilling laugh.]
RYDER: It's really basic logic, you see. While, yes, reeking chaos and causing misery is a major part of our prime directive. But what _HE_ really carves... What _HE_ really desires... is _POWER_!
And a big part of attaining that power... is _GOLD_!
[He nods, as a sick twisted smile forms over his face.]
RYDER: So, it's not really that we don't want to _WIN_ to secure our golden fortune... It's that we _CHOOSE_ to find our success by different means... Sometimes the agony is prolonged, and we just have to wait for the PERFECT moment to strike.
Other times dinner is served up on a silver platter....
...like... this... _WEEEEEK_!!!
[The smile seems to grow even wider, as Shawn tosses another log onto the fire, sparks shooting up towards the sky.]
RYDER: You say you actually possessed the _BALLS_ to ask for this tables match? Good for you! I am glad that we are already _WINNING_ the fight, and corrupting your morals. It thrills me to no end that in such a short period of time.... you're already willing to sink to _OUR_ level.
[Soft, slow chuckle...]
RYDER: Ahhh, you fools... You damn stupid fools... Cling to your precious badge. Hold tight to your code of honor... and this idea of cold... hard... justice... Choke down them cornflakes, tie up them laces and prepare yourself for a Christmas dinner you will surely _NEVER_ forget!
[All of a sudden, Shawn takes his eyes off the fire and places them squarely on the camera.]
RYDER: You are gunna teach us a _LESSON_, coppers? What??? Do you think this is the romper room?? When we’re done with you, coppers....
[The camera zooms in, focusin on Ryder's crazy filled eyes.]
....it'll look like we set fire to your face and put it out with an _AXE_!!!!
[Darkness evolves.]
[In the quiet still of the winter night, there is a small fire, crackling and burning with energy. The master, "The Wolf" Lark Fenriz rests in peaceful slumber, as his page "Thirty Below" Shawn Ryder sits by the fire, Indian style, eyes glued to the dancing flames.]
RYDER: So, you think you got us all figured out do ya, coppers?
[Shawn shakes his head.]
RYDER: I fuckin' beg to differ.
[He snarls, his top lip even curling a bit.]
RYDER: You flap them gums about how we don't care about wining the tag team titles and because you _DO_ that gives you some sort of advantage. HA! You _WISH_ we didn't care about the fifteen pounds of gold. You _DREAM_ that such things aren't a part of our grand scheme of things.
But sorry, piggly wigglies...
They certainly _ARE_!!!
[Ryder bellows out one evil, bone chilling laugh.]
RYDER: It's really basic logic, you see. While, yes, reeking chaos and causing misery is a major part of our prime directive. But what _HE_ really carves... What _HE_ really desires... is _POWER_!
And a big part of attaining that power... is _GOLD_!
[He nods, as a sick twisted smile forms over his face.]
RYDER: So, it's not really that we don't want to _WIN_ to secure our golden fortune... It's that we _CHOOSE_ to find our success by different means... Sometimes the agony is prolonged, and we just have to wait for the PERFECT moment to strike.
Other times dinner is served up on a silver platter....
...like... this... _WEEEEEK_!!!
[The smile seems to grow even wider, as Shawn tosses another log onto the fire, sparks shooting up towards the sky.]
RYDER: You say you actually possessed the _BALLS_ to ask for this tables match? Good for you! I am glad that we are already _WINNING_ the fight, and corrupting your morals. It thrills me to no end that in such a short period of time.... you're already willing to sink to _OUR_ level.
[Soft, slow chuckle...]
RYDER: Ahhh, you fools... You damn stupid fools... Cling to your precious badge. Hold tight to your code of honor... and this idea of cold... hard... justice... Choke down them cornflakes, tie up them laces and prepare yourself for a Christmas dinner you will surely _NEVER_ forget!
[All of a sudden, Shawn takes his eyes off the fire and places them squarely on the camera.]
RYDER: You are gunna teach us a _LESSON_, coppers? What??? Do you think this is the romper room?? When we’re done with you, coppers....
[The camera zooms in, focusin on Ryder's crazy filled eyes.]
....it'll look like we set fire to your face and put it out with an _AXE_!!!!
[Darkness evolves.]