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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith (June 21st) PPV RP Archive
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What's That Buzzing in My Ear? (RP #2)
Author Message
Tony Santos Offline
Santos Glares at You



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#1
06-16-2014, 07:21 PM

Vanity Kills by Codeine Velvet Club fades in to the distance as the scene opens. Tony Santos can be seen, lying on his stomach, his face pressed against the cold, concrete floor. Spittle runs from his mouth, his eyes closed, his breathing subdued. The camera doesn't pan over his limp body, but simply trains itself on his lead head. From listening to him, nothing seems necessarily different for someone who would otherwise seem asleep, his drool nothing more than a silent opening in a fragile human being. However, looking at him creates the visual of a conquered giant. His saliva flows from his mouth as fast as the Perana, crashing against the surface with the ferocity of Niagara Falls. As the song cuts out, Tony's still body lays as silent as the void between the end of the song and the loop that connects it.

Santos: A case of vanity... killll...

Tony stretches his right hand outwards, looking to grasp at something, anything, nearby. Nothing...

Santos: A case of... something...

Tony attempts to crawl toward his bed, each inch feeling like a mile through quicksand, his head feeling like it's being pressed in to the ground by the foot of an elephant. Attempting to lift his head, he hears fingernails on a chalkboard...

...scratching...

...clawing...

...from the inside of his skull, all the way down his face, then his throat...

Tony curls up in a ball in the middle of his room, nowhere near his nearest bedpost. Curled up in a half-naked ball in the middle of his room, Tony wafts around the gray, concrete floor like the Deepwater Horizon. Kicking his legs outwards, he hopes to gain some momentum. Rotating his arms, he hopes to find some direction.

Nothing, just song.

It's getting late but I'll wait up to greet the dawn...

Pour some Champagne and refrain from moving on...

The kicking continues...

There's got to be more than this to our simple serenades...

And continues...

I'm waiting 'til the spotlight fades...

The pain SHOOTS through his ribs. Tony growls as his iron fist pounds the ground. His teeth shows as he growls... yes, growls, in pain... the gap in the front of his mouth showing... making him looking eerily similar to a rabid dog. Tony spits upwards, aiming toward the blackened lightbulb above, but he's nowhere close. Tony clenches his fists as the pain shoots through his body, evenly distributing itself outwards, reaching his fingertips, his toes, and even the tips of his hair as his body stretches outwards. Tony smiles as he yells in a mixture of agony and odd pleasure. The pain intensifies, building, building, and building..., until it...

STOPS

Tony grabs the bottle of Sierra Nevada Torpedo Extra IPA to his right, then grabs the bottle to his left. He smiles as he takes a sip from one, then a sip from another... followed by a gulp from one, then a gulp from another. The music continues to play at a constant pace in the background, as Tony Santos taps his knuckles on the table. The bottles had not broken, Tony had not fallen down; he'd just fallen...

...asleep.

Tony's right foot taps to the music playing from the music player on the table...

Santos: There was a storm of money raining down!
It only touched the ground...
With a loan I took I can’t repay...
And the crock of gold you found!


Tony bobs and weaves in his chair, new life filling him within the very corridors that were previously, in his dreams, breaking within him. The upbeat tune envelopes him, his knuckle tapping turning in to full on palm slapping, his body jerking wildly with the music. Tony's hair flails wildly as he continues singing...

Santos: At every trough you stopped to feed!
With your arrogance, your ignorance and greed...

I never was a cautious man
I spend more than I’m paid
But those with something put aside
Are the ones that you betrayed...


Tony smiles, his head pointing toward the ceiling as his tonsils attempt to keep up with his wailing. Tony's gap in the front of his mouth contains his tongue as he smiles a smile that only a Southern mother with a lack of beautiful children or genes could love. Tony's upper body muscles get tense as he drums harder and harder against the table, the glass bottles surrounding him hopping up and down to his every movement. Specks of dirt bounce off of the table, as bottle caps catapult to the ground.

The noise in this basement is louder than the bar above, but to hell if he cares. The drumming continues, getting louder and more ferocious. The beat moving from that of a solid hum to the sound of rampaging bulls. He revels in the joy infecting him, kicking and flailing and stomping and pounding. The violin in the background goes wild, the guitar going off, when Tony begins to sing...

Santos: With your bonuses and expenses
You shoveled down your throat...


Tony grips the beer bottles and, using all of his momentum, pitches them in to the wall in front of him. Glass shatters, covering the table and the concrete floor. Thick, India Pale Ale rains down from the ceiling, covering Tony's face and upper body. Tony opens his mouth to smile, letting the beer quickly trickle down his forehead, past his eyelids, and over his yellow teeth. Tony smiles, as the final part of the chorus hits.

Santos: Now you bit the hand that fed you...

Now you bit the hand that fed you!

Dear God!

Dear God...

I hope you choke...


The scene fades to black.

September 2013 and May 2019 Star of the Month
1x Hart Champion
1x Television Champion
1x Xtreme Champion

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