+- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com)
+-- Forum: Warfare Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=6)
+--- Forum: Warfare RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=12)
+--- Thread: Everyone's Still Talking About War, So... I'm Not Going to Do That (RP #2) (/showthread.php?tid=6044)
Everyone's Still Talking About War, So... I'm Not Going to Do That (RP #2) - Tony Santos - 08-28-2013
Santos: Kid, have you ever played cops and robbers?
Jeremy: No, sir. Have you?
Santos: Nope.
Jeremy stares at Tony, blankly.
Jeremy: Then what was the point of your question?
Santos smiles.
The scene is set in the living room of Tony and Jeremy's dingy hotel in San Diego, California. Tony, having been spurned from the show that he was about to re-enter for a night, and from the city with the mild climate that he couldn't get acclimated to, was in more of a nonchalant, uncaring mood than even he was used to. Santos is laying on the beige, three seat couch, staring at the ceiling. Jeremy is beneath Tony, leaning, back against said couch, hands neatly folded on his stomach. He only had a week remaining with Tony before moving back to Boston for his second year at Boston University, and he was slowly, and hesitantly, starting to realize that he was going to somewhat miss Tony and his idiocy.
Santos: Kid, I had a dream about that game, cops and robbers, and it made me think, maybe generations of kids have had it wrong all along.
Jeremy turns his head upwards to his left, focusing on Tony's spacey eyes.
Jeremy: What are you getting at...
Santos: See, kid, most kids, whether they wanted to be the good guys, the cops, or the bad guys, the robbers, we all believed that was the correct interpretation of good and evil, but kid, I'm starting to think that we've had it backwards.
See, the cops are the ones that we see to be protecting "order," protecting the good folks. The robbers are the ones taking from the good folk. But, have you ever thought that the cops were merely protecting a corrupt, brain dead society, holding on to power for the mere love of the sway that comes with carrying a badge and a gun?
The robbers have nothing, and they just want a piece of the pie. They're just looking to mess with the regular order of things, to keep things, interesting.
See, kid, I've been thinking about this with the War Games match coming up tomorrow night. See, I think about our band of misfits, our team, and I see a group that, while having a strong champion in Angelus at the helm, we're the ones trying to take down Eli James and his pathetic attempts to hold on to power. The rest of the lemmings on his team, and in his Congregation, are merely pawns in his game to do whatever he can to hold on to said power.
Kid, James has reached the mountain top, and, as with anyone that reaches the top, he's damn well scared of falling off. That's why he finds himself incessantly rambling on and on about the same things... his phony religion, the followers of his and how much he appreciates them, and his pathetic attempts at intimidating the opponents of his that, well, still haven't gotten the message.
Kid, he's the "cop," protecting order and stability. We're the gang that's coming in to break it apart. See, I came damn near close to breaking that son of a bitch and taking his US Title, ending his reign before it could really get going, but I lost. But you know what I realized in that loss, kid? James is scared. He hides behind his words, his many, many, empty words, to mask that fear. Fear of losing the one human possession that he has. Fear of falling back to earth and having to face the fact that he's just a mere mortal. Just some rambling idiot with a tiny bit of validation carved in gold over his shoulder.
Tony takes a moment to let out a few loud coughs. Oh, the cigarettes were getting to him, they damn sure were. He takes a moment to spit the phlegm that roared its way up his throat in to an empty Diet Coke bottle, then places it back on the table. Santos then proceeds to pat Jeremy on the shoulder.
Santos: Kid, tonight I go back to Warfare, the show that showed me the door. With John Madison, another power hungry man hiding behind a bit of gold, at the helm, and Eli James and Co. protecting the little bit of stability they feel that they have here in the XWF, I think it's time, kid.
I think it's time to fuck with the general order of things. Tonight, I remind Eli James how close he came to complete irrelevance, and demonstrate to his teammates just how truly inadequate they are.
The scene fades to black.