Post by jonnycorrigan on Mar 16, 2009 19:16:07 GMT -5
BlakeInTheBox
[/u][/i][/center]“Green to Me” strikes the P.A. system with force and the crowd stands to their feet in eager anticipation of the Leaf in the Wind. Corrigan brushes past the curtain that seperates him from the public eye. And he walks across the stage to the melodic chorus of cheers and walks hand in hand with no one but the cheers raining down. The ring announcer blazes his name through her voice.
Katie Rain: This match is schedules for one fall! On the way to the ring, from Granite Falls, Washington... Jonny... CORRIGAAN!!!
Allyson: Well, ladies and gentlemen, here is Jonny Corrigan, still feeling the bruises of defeat from the Aftermath pay-per-view in which DHS was torn from the surface of REW. And tonight he takes on the newest Regulator member Siarlis in one-on-one action!
Simon: Corrigan was absolutely destroyed at Aftermath, picked apart by the Regulators and no one would admit that it would happen, but I, Allyson, I was the only one smart enough to know that it would. It was obvious, plain and simple right in front of my eyes.
Allyson: Well I’m glad you have been able to transcend human psychology Simon. Here, have a grapefruit.
Simon: Ah thank you, you’re sweet.
Allyson: I don’t actually have one.
Simon: ... I hate you passionately.
Corrigan walks down the ramp feeling the flash bulbs burst against his skin and the roars of the crowd echo off his bones and reflect right back to the thousands of dependent eyes. And then Corrigan walks up the steps to get in the ring, but he stops half way up and looks at the roaring fans to his left. They dazzle at his glance, and Corrigan takes his shirt off and throws it into the crowd, and then proceeds to walk up the steps once more and duck into the ring. He then turns to the nearest turnbuckle and climps atop it, and blankly yet obsessively he stares into the crowd, and then his music fades, and he drops down from the turnbuckle and awaits the sounds indicative of his opponent Siarlis.
Allyson: Looks as if Corrigan has recovered fully after the three-on-one onslaught he endured at Aftermath, Simon.
Simon: Well you know he probably is just on a lot of drugs right now, you know, because Corrigan is a drug addict, and, well, he’s probably on so much drugs that he doesn’t feel any of the pain that he would have felt had he not taken drugs.
Allyson: I also hear that when Jonny’s on drugs, he likes to beat up rich, talentless, JBL-idolizing wanna-bes who adhere to what is left of a false identity.
Simon: Wow... you’re lucky I have millions of dollars or I might have killed myself over that.
Allyson: Wow, I am so grateful...
Simon: Yes, well, without me you would be jobless, sweetie... OW!!! YOU HIT ME!
Allyson: Without you I would be in WWE sitting next to JR on Tuesday nights! And don’t you dare call me sweetie.
Corrigan’s music fades and he backs his way into the furthest corner of the ring from the ramp. And he rests his arms on the ropes and watches the tron with a still glare painted on his face. The thousands in attendance turn to look at the stage, and after not much more than a few blinks of the eyes and respirations of the lungs Siarlis’ music parades over the PA. “WE’RE NO STRANGERS TO LOVE... YOU KNOW THE RULES, AND SO, DO IIII!!!”
Allyson: I wonder if Siarlis is feeling the effects from the X-Box 360 to the face, Simon.
Simon: Please, from that weakling Corrigan? It probably didn’t even tickle!
Allyson: You’re impossible.
Simon: What does that even mean?
Allyson: You know what it means.
Simon: I really don’t. The problem is that you don’t understand the superior psychology of man.
Allyson: You’re right, I don’t.
Simon: Point made.
Amidst the bickering the music continues to play, but the stage remains empty and motionless. The crowd, which was once glowing with cheers, has become silent in their boredom and impatience. And so the music fades away because Siarlis is nowhere to be seen in the visible area.
Allyson: Well, it appears Siarlis is nowhere to be seen.
Simon: Where the hell is he? I need my low flying floor mopper fix this week, Allyson! This is not optional for me, man!
Allyson: It appears that XBox 360 to the head really did a number on Siarlis! He must still be out cold in the back!
Simon: If you are so set on Corrigan being this phenomenal man that you describe, why don’t you ask him out or something?
Allyson: Oh come on Simon, you know I’m a professional and I do not date wrestlers!
Simon: That’s not what cousin John said...
Allyson: Oh God! I wouldn’t touch his fat ass with a ten foot pole!
Simon: Gasp!
Silence continues to wander through the air and supplement the crowd with endless questions and no one to ask. Jonny Corrigan walks forward and leans on the ropes closest to the ramp and inquisitively glares toward the stage. And when he hears no one and sees no one he turns to referee Chase Evans and complains. And Chase Evans shrugs his shoulders because he is unsure of what course of action to take, but it is in the middle of this ordeal that the PA system blares with music. But it isn’t that of which identifies Siarlis... because when all who’s attention remains present hears it, their blood picks up a little bit faster. Their respirations a little bit harder... their muscles a little bit tenser.
“I won’t deny it, I’m a straight ridah, you don’t wanna fuck with mee...”
And then Corrigan whips toward the ramp, his eyes widen and then squint in confusion. And emerging from beyond the curtain is Blake Worship, a smile on his face and a mic in his hand. And he stands at the top of the ramp as the light bulbs burst for him just as they did Corrigan, and then he proceeds to walk down the ramp with forceful strides.
Allyson: It’s Blake Worship! Blake Worship is here and he is not dressed to compete, but I am still curious as to where Siarlis is!
Simon: I’m sure it will all become clear soon enough, Allyson.
Blake Worship keeps his eyes focused on Corrigan all the way down the ramp until he reaches the bottom. Where he stops and looks around the arena, observing the many faces of adoration that observe him and the electricity his presence has written into the air. And then he paces over to the steel steps and slowly he climbs them. And with each step his glare of Corrigan gets a little bit more narrow, a little bit more suspicious, but it isn’t as if Corrigan is going to spring on him immediately, because he gives way for Worship to enter the ring. And Worship ducks into the ring, everlastingly keeping his eyes cross-haired on the Leaf in the Wind.
Allyson: There is so much animosity between these men! By far the most heated rivalry in REW today!
Simon: I wouldn’t go that far. Corrigan sucks!
Allyson: Oh yeah, like you’ve accomplished anything in your life...
Simon: Hey, my cousin is the longest-reigning champion in the history of Smackdown!
Allyson: And I bet you’re proud of that.
Simon: You’re darn tootin’ right I am!
Allyson: I bet you cry a lot.
Worship walks to the center of the ring and with a grimace he glares Corrigan down, observing his entire physique as if stalking prey that refused to move. And he walks a circle around Corrigan, playing some kind of intimidation game that Corrigan doesn’t play into. He just stands there with an angry scowl directed at the canvas, and then when Worship makes his rounds Corrigan looks back up at him, not giving an inch of pride to the DisCiple. And then Worship’s music fades. A lasting silence permeates the air and then sinks into the crowd, cueing the crowd to burst into a roar that droans the ring with audibility. And Worship and Corrigan look around to the opposite sides of the arena and observe the electricity that their pairing creates. Worship holds the microphone near his mouth and then he exerts his voice.
“Corrigan...” he says, dragging the ‘n’ through miles of desert, “You are not going to face Siarlis tonight.”
Some of the fans in attendance howeled rebellious boos. And Worship glanced at the crowd and then turned his attention back to Jonny Corrigan, “No, Corrigan, it’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let Siarlis come out here, and disgrace himself by continuing a war that has already ended...” Worship stares condescendingly into Corrigan’s eyes, who’s lip curls and eyebrows bend with furious anger at the words spit in his face. And then Worship continues, “It’s over. We ended DHS, Corrigan. The Regulators have no interest in dealing further with you or the former allegiance that was DHS...” Worship steps a bit closer to Corrigan and bellows into his face, but Corrigan remains unphased, his eyes biting hard into Worship’s glare. But then Worship’s anger subsides and a smile manages to grip hold of his face, and he titters and continues, “And now Cloudstrife decided for some reason that it would be a good idea to pit me against you at the Brawl... for my World Heavyweight Championship...” And as Worship says this he gestures toward the belt strewn across his shoulder and he adjusts it so that it molds perfectly over his skin’s exterior. The crowd cheers loudly, aching with anticipation.
“And as much as I would rather defend my title against any random hobo, Corrigan, I will see fit to deal with you at the Brawl. And I promise you that when it’s over,” and he sticks his finger in Corrigan’s face, and then smiles and says “When it’s over, the blood I sacrifice will drain from the ring, and you will be left here in a stinking pile of misfortune. All of the hope and undying love that these fans have showered upon you, Corrigan, all the potential that the wrestling scouts see in you, the success that you’ve had... Hell, the crush that Allyson Crowell can’t seem to hide...”
Allyson: Hey! I... Shutup!
Simon: Ha! How EMBARASSING!
Blake Worship shuffles his feet and stares deep into the eyes of Corrigan, “It will all... be... for nothing. I will bury your name with the remains of your broken carcass, Corrigan, and nothing you’ve done here will hold a single thread of meaning!” Worship’s voice carries about the arena like an early morning wave. “You won’t even be able to remember the man that you once were, because these people, Corrigan, they like to think of you as the strong-willed underdog. They like to think that you’ve changed, that you’re no longer a pathetic insect melded into the role of the useless, the obsolete, the ineffectual, that you have become something greater... but I know differently, Corrigan. I know that when our match ends, all will bare witness to the fact that you are still that same scared, pathetic, drug-abusing, bi-polar, anger-driven kid without the spine to formulate even a test tube of ambition!”
And then Corrigan grabs at the microphone and rips it away from Worship’s grasp. And Worship's eyes narrow and his respirations pump and his body grows, and then Corrigan puts the mic to his mouth, “Shut up, Worship! Just shut the hell up!”
Simon: What?! He can’t talk to Blake like that!
Allyson: He’s just sticking up for himself!
And then the crowd exerts a massive cheer of approval, and Corrigan wipes the hair out of his eyes and pushes his enraged glare into Worship’s face, “You think I’m scared of you, Worship? You think I quiver when I hear your name, when you stand here now and you speak lowly of me, when you spit your pride in my face? No, Worship, I’ve been through far worse. Things too terrible, too horrifying to speak of.” Corrigan doesn’t move. In fact, the only things that bends and limbers is his lips as he continues to speak, “And none of those things is you, Worship. I mean, who do you think you fucking are, and who do you think I am, Worship? Have you forgotten? Don’t you remember the simple fact that I’ve beaten you not once but twice since I’ve been here?” And a chunk of the crowd erupts into cheers in acknowledgement of that well-known but little-accepted fact.
Allyson: That’s correct. Jonny Corrigan defeated Blake Worship on two seperate occasions during his six-plus month career.
Simon: That was luck and everyone damn well knows it, Allyson!
“You seem to think you hold some kind of divinity, Worship. Well, I for one am a believer in divinity.” Corrigan holds his hand against his heart and bows his head, and then he peers back up at Blake and speaks once more, “I believe in the godliness of our souls, Blake. I believe we all own the potential to attract praise from the people we know and even those we don’t. To inspire awe in the hearts of the bored and the unstimulated, and just for a few moments to pull them away from their difficult, obstacle-plauged lives and experience something new and beautiful, and it isn’t because they are told to or because they feel like they have to but because they want to... because something burns within them to see something amazing. Worship, you may hold those characteristics to the followers that be, but you are no immortal. You do not provide some kind of everlasting satisfaction as though you seem to proclaim. There is no perfection or even an infallible characteristic in you, Worship, because I know I can beat you. I’ve done it before, and I can take that World Title away from you...”
Corrigan holds his hand up and snaps his fingers, “Like that...”
And then Corrigan looks at Blake Worship’s World Title that drapes so eloquently over his shoulder, and jealously Worship pulls the title away from Corrigan’s grasp. Then Corrigan speaks again, “But don’t get me wrong, Worship, because I don’t care about your fucking title. All I want, Worship, all I desire, is to see your face covered in crimson and lying face-down on it. I want you to try to swim in your own blood, Worship, and in weakness sink to the bottom. But most of all, Blake...” Corrigan said, poking his finger into Worship’s chest, a smile shining through his teeth, “Most of all... I want you to scream for mercy, plead of me to let you live... and die... trying.”
Corrigan shoves the microphone into Worship’s chest, forcing him to grab hold. Corrigan’s music, “Green to Me” by HUM hits the P.A. system, and Corrigan stands there staring into the eyes of his future opponent Blake Worship. And Worship does the same, his face fluctuating with anger and his fists clenching hard. They stare each other down for seconds and seconds on end, and then Corrigan finally turns his shoulder to Blake Worship, leaving him there alone in his own mind to contemplate the words that were just spoken.
Allyson: Well, Corrigan certainly leaving his mark, telling Worship that he doesn’t really care so much about the World Title, but leaving Blake Worship on the near edge of death, Simon!
Simon: Well, Blake Worship made it clear that he will destroy Jonny Corrigan, and reveal him once again as the pathetic insect that he is! Considering both men’s arguments, I would take Worship’s word over Corrigan’s, because he just sounds like he knows what he is talking about, you know?
Allyson: And Jonny Corrigan doesn’t? This man beat Blake Worship twice in REW history. What makes Worship thinks that Corrigan isn’t on the same level? Maybe a bit unorthodox, but worthy nonetheless!
Simon: It takes a real knowledgable wrestling observer to know a legend from a poser, and Blake Worship transcends legend, so I don’t think we need to investigate much futher; Blake Worship will win at The Brawl, Allyson!
Jonny Corrigan backs up the ramp with his signature glare stone-written on his face. And Worship stares back with violence streaking through his eye, his jaw line opening and closing with furious anger that won’t rest until he gets his hands on the man his eyes rest upon.[/color]
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