“Three weeks doth stand ‘tween the time of now… and the time of new.”
“Three painfully… agonizingly… hurtfull…y… long weeks. Soaked in the seconds and minutes and hours and days of an everflowing decadant collision of percussion-esque equal-ocitude.”
“No mere mortal man could dare BARE the long, long, looong anticipating of this anticipated anticipation.”
“And for there yet… this doth not bother thine Savior that I am… For I Am…”
“No Mere Mortal Man.”
[We begin, opening upon footage from two days ago… Where four men, who shall soon serve in the name of our Lord… met, in the holiest of places…]
[The Sinister City arcade.]
Mark: Mathew, you’ve been playing Guitar Zero for five straight hours now! And you haven’t hit ONE right note yet! Can you PLEASE, for the love of GOD, give it up?!
Mathew: Not when I’ve almost got- DAMMIT! Who would have ever thought “I’m a Little Teapot” could be so damn hard to play on an electric guitar?!
[The Flock of Seagulls’ “I Ran” is playing over the arcade speakers, to the delight of all the pre-adult emos and goth posers in attendance. Well, I don’t quite know if ‘delight’ is the right term, as these kids have a thing against all that “being joyful and happy” biz. It’s just not their thing.]
[And two goth posers, in particular, around 18 or 19, are at a ‘Guitar Zero’ station. One is tall, skinny, and has a face awash in acne. The other, who is pounding away at the guitar like a retarded chimpanzee on acid who was dropped on his head shortly after its birth… is pounding away at the guitar like a retarded chimpanzee on acid… who was… Oops, did I already mention that? It’s just that he’s god-awfully HORRID at this game. No amount of comparisons can do any form of justice to this guy’s abomination of what could never, EVER, be known in a MILLION years as anything even RESEMBLING “skillz”. I mean, a blind, deaf, and stupid infant born from an incestual night of passion between the lowliest of country hicks and his mentally ill daughter could do better than this ignorant, moronic, stupid, dimwitted, dumb – ]
Mathew: I am NOT dumb! Dimwitted? Sure. Stupid? Yeah. Moronic? Ya got me there. Ignorant? That’s me to a tee. Unable to comprehend the concept of the shoe string? Maybe. But DUMB?! Sir? I think NOT!
[… Uhm… ok… sorry?]
Mathew: That’s better. … DAMMIT! The damn narrator just made me screw up “One-Note Song” by Tenacious D.
Mark: I can’t believe I’m asking, but… how many different notes does that song have?
Mark: … And you screwed it up.
Mark: Turn it off.
Mathew: Just ONE more song. I just KNOW I can nail Mozart’s “Requiem”.
Mark: … I’ll be at the Pac-Man cabinet.
[As Mark treks toward a much simpler, less complicated [and less… occupied] game, somewhere, at the exact same moment, in the exact same arcade…]
Luke: BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Take THAT and THAT and some ah THIS and THIS and even more of THAT! Haha, killing zombies is a blast, huh Jack?
Luke: What do you mean you wish the game were based in somewhere a bit more menacing than a haunted bakery? Don’t you know who the leader of this mad group of undead chefs is?! None other than The UndeadBaker!!! And if you don’t watch out, you’ll REST…. IN…. YEEEAAASSSTTT!!! Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hah! “Resident Strudel” – Undead and bakin’ bread!
Luke: What do you mean I just got eaten while I was talking to you? … HEY! I just got eaten while I was talking to you! See what you made me do!
Luke: What do you mean some skinny, pimply faced guy is walking by, who may or may not lead to us getting booked on some fifth rate indie wrestling promotion? … Hey! You there, with the ugly, nasty, pimply face!
Mark: You talking to me? Because if you are, I’ll have you know that I’ve been working to get rid of this break-out for a while now! … It’s just that pizza, candy, and other assorted junk food is just so… so… mmm. You wouldn’t happen to know where the vending machine is, would you? I could really go for some M&M’s…
Luke: Yeah, well, I don’t know where the vending machine is, but I do think you can help me. Do you happen to know of any fifth rate indie wrestling promotions?
Mark: Hmm… an odd question, but I do believe I saw an ad on one of the arcade’s walls about a certain… Brawlers on a Budget. It had something to do with this guy that just moved into the city… some guy by the name of ‘Axl’.
Luke: Hm… [turns to Jack] I guess I owe you a dollar. I’m gonna have to write you an I.O.U. … [turns back to Mark] So… “Brawlers on a Budget” you say?
[The Residence of Evil… Sinister City, Utah. It is Christmas Morning, and the Hierarchy are gathered around the dinner table. Of course, the Hierarchy family doesn’t celebrate Christmas. No, for they celebrate an altogether more important day… a day honoring THEIR God… THEIR master… THEIR Savior. A day that marks the beginning of the year in the holiest of religions… Axology. The study of the works of the most sacred of ALL religous figures…]
[And his day, which ironically falls on the 25th, is entitled “Christmahanukwanzaakka”… for His is greater, and of more significance, than that of Christmas, Hanukka, AND St. Patrick’s Day, all wrapped up and rolled into one. But not Kwanzaa. Cuz’ homie don’t play that.]
[The Dining Room of Darkness is set in dim light… hence its name. As raYne, Tony Spaghetti, Steve Roydz, Jim, Joe, Viruz, Trable, and Pigeon are all gathered on both sides of the table, Rose says a prayer from the very end of the table, blessing the Christmahanukwanzaakka meal.]
Rose: “And lo, He walked unto the squared circle… He looked upon his meager wretch of a so-called “opponent”… and though thusly did the drech decide to lower… and lower did he. And then His Holiness spake… calling for the peasant to lower still… and lower still did he. And then… Then, our Lord and Savior’s voice grew low… soft, yet sharp… soft as a whisper… sharp as the dagger of killing and much bloodiness. And he met to a knee… lowering himself… yet not as low as the disgusting sloth of a foe he faced on that glorious night. And he spokededified unto the unworthy ears of the mongrel… in a coarse, harsh, whisper…”
Rose: “And yes, he DID lower, even further still, before our master… the God of Metal. Before he was pinned unto the blood-stained canvas… for the one-eth… two-eth… three.” On this holiest nights, I ask of thee, O’ holy being of greatness… of heavenly body and hellish arsenal… O’ entity of awesomeness and better-than-you-ness… Let there be a Great Divide. Between the haves… and the have-nots. The youth of the nation… and the elder statesmen. The True Believers… and those with doubt filling their minds, bodies, and souls. Allow for thine spirit to fill the heartless sacks of flesh that stray from The Word. And let there be light…
[Suddenly, the once dim lights of the dining room flash a bright, magnificent gold… and the camera pans to the right, to find the dining room door swinging open…]
Axl: DAMMIT, I told you, not TOO bright!!! Rose, why do you always have to get my orders wrong- … Wait, are we taping? I thought this was a dress rehearsal… …
[The bright, golden light lessens its brigthness, as Axl strides toward the table… his customary poser outfit accentuated on this day by a great, long, black cape… flowing along the velvet carpet. Axl makes his way to the chair on the opposite side of Rose, and looks, first to the left side of the table, casting his gaze upon raYne, Tony, Steve, and Viruz… then to the right, where he sees Jim, Joe, Trable, and Pigeon. His followers await his first words with anxious excitement and bated breathe…]
Axl: What are you guys looking at?
Rose: … Your first words.
Axl: … I thought that I should never see… a man as beautiful, and gorgeous as me.
[Axl speaks… still standing.]
Axl: My followers… tonight marks the beginning… of the YEAR… of the HIEARCHY! As all good little Axology followers know, the world truly began when I, Axl, was born. And as all those with even half a molecule of a brain cell in their heads know, I was born on December 25th, of the year 1982. And through the darkness and blackness and bleakness of the dreary world of Earth and its inhabitants, on that very day, a prophecy began. A prophecy that would soon become a legacy… MY legacy. To go forth… and bring fruition… righteousness, to the slowly crumbling empire of ‘Brawlers’. To take a dying company… and give it new life. And at New Horizon? My journey begins…
[Axl finally takes a seat at the end of the table… smiling at his girlfriend, Rose, for a second, as she blows her King a kiss… Axl continues.]
Axl: raYne… Tony. New Horizon, the two of you shall prove to the WORLD… that the closer a tag team is to eachother, the more cohesive they shall be in the ring. Bannister… Hungalot… they haven’t been in the ring together, as a unit, in some time. While the two of you? Well… damn, if there isn’t two things in this world closer than Tony’s front and raYne’s back, than I haven’t a clue.
Axl: Viruz… brother. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had the pleasure of knowing you personally… But if ever there was a time I needed you, than now is that time. Kurt Angel is a legend around here… a BoB icon. He’s been with the federation for as long as anyone can remember… and my brother… it is with you that I place my faith that we have the POWER to crush that heathan.
Axl: Rose… We finally embrace once again… as lovers… as partners… and as King, and Queen, of the Hiearchy. A new era has dawned on BoB, and you, my ravishing princess, shall be by my side to lead the charge. And when the first day of the New Horizon cometh…eths… thee and ye Nikki shall duke it out with both Misty… and that blasphemous BITCH Kay Fabe. Such a sorceress of witchcraft as she is of great chagrin to our glorious religion.
Rose: I thought only Christians were anti-witchcraft?
Axl: No, no my dear. Many religious people are. And Axolologists more than any! Simply because of one reason; The only being… and I mean the ONLY being that has magic on this planet is yours truly. The evidence is plentiful, and any who DARE deny it shall be burned at the stake.
Brother Joe: But-
Axl: BURNED AT THE STAKE! … Rose, do you have anything you’d like to say to either your opponents, or perhaps your tag team partner, Nikki Mantle?
Rose: Hm… well… let’s see… Kay Fabe’s an ungodly witch, who should be burned at the stake… Misty’s an ungodly whore, who should be burned at the stake… And Nikki’s an ungodly softball player… who should team with me, do most of the heavy lifting, tag me in and let me get the pin… Before she’s burned at the stake.
Axl: Which brings me to… Trable.
Axl: … Trable.
Trable: Yeah, homey?
Trable: What up?
Axl: … Pigeon!
Trable: Day-um… that was cold…
Axl: Pigeon… the way you took that wench Michelle, and spiked her head into the mat? Pigeon, with that one ddt, you broke the shackles that were placed upon you by the great order of geezers! Michelle was simply a minion in their army… secretly siding with the dispicable Trey Vincent. He, just like every other wrinkled old bag, wanted to keep you, one of the rising stars of the next generation, down… and leave you there. He knew if he kept you distracted by Michelle’s charms, he would have the OWTTM to himself! But you… you saw the light. And Brother Pigeon, you now are in line for the Swiss Army Belt… I bless thee, and shall be watching as you drop Massive Man… and take his strap. May the good fortune of Christmahanukwanzaakka shine upon you, my child.
Trable: Didn’t wish no shinin’ fortunes down on me, yo… I’mma do what Pigeon COULDN’T. That TV’s gonna get BUSTED, knaw mean?!
Axl: No… not really. … And now, my children. It is time that the Guardians of the Gold were chosen. At first, when Rose alerted me to the stipulations of my match, I had thought I would be needing to travel to some forest and ask a few woodsmen to act as my outside enforcers. She then explained that the term “lumberjack”, in this case, alluded to an entirely different thing. And so, it was then obvious to me that I would choose, as my lead lumberjack, Prophet. –
Brother Jim: What about me and Joe, master?
Axl: What ABOUT you and Joe?
Brother Jim: Well-
Axl: Well NOTHING! For one thing, you and the guy I’m facing… are BOTH named JIM!!! How is anyone supposed to tell the two of you apart?!
Brother Jim: …
Axl: Let’s face it. You’re both jobbers.
Axl: And Joe… well, Joe’s a shmoe.
Brother Joe: HEY!
Axl: So, the two of you, just close your traps, and forget about appearing at New Horizon. This event is for the FUTURE of the business. You two? Should be glad you even get to BE a part of the winning side!
Joe / Jim: … Damn.
Axl: The only fair and balanced way of gathering a few guys for this job… this most prestigous and surely to be sought after of duties… is to put up a few “Help Wanted” posters around the City.
Rose: It shall be a wonderful gift for any man or woman to join the Hierarchy… even for a day’s time.
Axl: Indeed, my dearest. Indeed…
[December 30th… 2007. Mercy Drive, on the corner of Know Your Role Boulevard. Yes, those are both actual places in Sinister City. Of course, Sinister City isn’t an actual place in and of itself, but HEY, LOOKIT THAT!]
[Damn, I forgot that only works on TV… and with stupid people. Anyway, Axl is sitting on the Residence of Evil’s porch… with his head resting on the palm of his hand… as he sits, looking forlornly into the winter’s afternoon…]
Axl: It’s been five days… and not a single person’s responded to my posters… I put them in the mall… I put them in restrooms… I even put one up the mayor’s ass. He should have been able to see it, seeing as how his head’s always up there. But nooo, not one… single… solitary-
[Suddenly, four shadows appear before Axl, casting out from beyond the camera…]
? : So… Axl, I presume?
? : We heard about you from this poster at the arcade.
? : You need a few guys to put some idiots in check? Well, we’ve got five words for ya…
? : …
? : Ya damnnn right.
[Axl looks up from the ground at these four men… and grins.]
Axl: What are your names, gentlemen?
Mathew: I’m Mathew.
Mark: I’m Mark.
Luke: I’m Luke.
Axl: Good thing your name’s at the beginning, or I’d have no idea who you are, kid.
Axl: No, not you. That Mark guy. Try and keep the pizza out of your mouth next time you talk, ok pal? No wonder you’ve got zits the size of SUV’s…
Axl: Nothing you can say!
[Axl stands up, and swings the front door open… looking back at his new recruits.]
Axl: Now… my flock. It is time that thou foursome commence hither-to to the quarters of the Residence of Evil’s Dungeon… The Gym of Doom. Mine Prophet shall lead thee all to a workout that shant be light… but quite heavy indeed, giving you all a taste of what you must endure when the 19th of this oncoming month approaches and arrives and is here and is not, alas, not here, wither-more.
Mathew / Mark / Luke / Jack: …
Axl: And so it begins…
~ Believe … or Be left. ~