[R A D I C A L]

RADICAL || "EYEOFCHAOS" || XWF#0012 || EVENT#3 ------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------- ------------------- ------- ENTER THE EYE >>>>> I know a thing or two about chaos. What it's like to be in the ring, giving your guts for glory and your long term future for a W right now. Career length is short, so you have to make the most of it. You have to sweat, cry, and BLEED for this business because it will not feel sorry for you. It will not give you more chances than what you earn. Every match matters. every moment bigger than the last, and every ounce of mayhem a tribute and notch on your belt IF you win. My philosophy is simple... don't do it for nothing. Don't endure the punishment and strain that matches of this caliber take on you and pull deep out of you for a LOSS. Don't live with regrets, look over your shoulder, or live to fight another day... TODAY IS MY TOMORROW. I do not take lightly the fact that Vinnie Lane gave me this chance to shine against one of the biggest and newest competitors... a shining fucking star in Chris Chaos. He has the IT FACTOR that most of those men back there wish they had. BUT... he doesn't have something that I DO. He may threaten violence and beatings of a century... but I've been there, I've felt that pain before. To scare me you would have to do a hell of a lot more than that, a level of which I have not felt in a VERY LONG TIME. I was a part of the takeovers a decade ago when I got my start in this business. I saw men do WHATEVER IT TOOK TO WIN. They had families to feed, they had to survive no matter the cost to their bodies or their futures. AND I BEAT THEM. BLOOD POURING FROM MY SKULL, I HAD MY HAND RAISED EVEN WHEN I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THE FUCK I WAS. I would wake up the next day with a title draped over my shoulder, wondering what the fuck actually happened. And then I would look at the tape. SEE CHRIS... talking gets you a lot of places in life. You can do a lot with a few carefully placed words if you know what to say and how to use them. BUT, when I get into that ring, when I lose the blood from the CHAOS YOU PROMISE... that is when I am most dangerous, not weakest. YOU MAKE A DANGEROUS ASSUMPTION... that I am like everyone else you have come across... that I cannot handle a little punishment. But you're wrong. When my head starts to sway, when I see my DNA hit the mat in a crimson smear of brutal acquiescence, I smile. I may not remember on SUNDAY what the fuck we did on SATURDAY NIGHT... but I can tell you that when my instincts kick in, when you think I am down for the count and hurting too badly to continue... THAT, CHRIS. THAT. IS WHERE. I WILL HAVE YOU. I will kick it into another GEAR and overwhelm you to a point that you don't even FUCKING REALIZE what is coming from where. BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, you'll wake up in the center of that ring surrounded by WEAPONS and BLOOD... WITH MY MUSIC PLAYING, and your CHAMBER CHANCE GONE. Because Vinnie Lane made this match for three reasons... ONE, TO GIVE BOURBON AND TRAX a fair shake Wednesday once we destroy each other Saturday. TWO, TO MAKE YOU stop asking for better competition and earn your place. AND THREE, TO CHALLENGE ME to beat one of his rising stars because to him, it's WIN-WIN. ONE OF US WILL RISE, BE BIG BOX OFFICE BY BEATING THE OTHER... and he can market that going into a CHAMBER MATCH will guys, everyone already knows about. THEY ARE BORING. HE NEEDS NEW BLOOD, A NEW NARRATIVE, A NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION. Someone to carry the torch he lit to brightly with guys like DOC and SOLDIER, SCULLY AND BARNEY... WE ARE THOSE GUYS. THERE IS room at the top for TAG GLORY, there is room at the top for the MCBRIDE'S to take the TV, X-TREME, or for DOLLY to handle the HART of the matter... but there is only room for ONE at the PEAK. AND THAT, MY OVERZEALOUS COMPADRE, IS THE RADICAL. YOU HAVE TALENT, but you don't EAT, BREATHE, AND SHIT WRESTLLNG LIKE I DO. THAT MAKE US GREAT AS A TEAM. BUT it doesn't work in your favor AGAINST ME. No matter how you slice it, no matter how crazy violent you want to be Saturday Night on Savage... I WILL MATCH YOU, AND BE MORE VIOLENT, MORE RADICAL, AND MORE FUCKING CHAOTIC! See I know how to conquer chaos, not with violence, but with kindness. KILL IT WITH KINDNESS. DEAD. >> A hazel human eyeball the focus… the shot widens back to reveal Gabe Reno in what appears to be the same bathroom earlier in the day. Staring at himself incoherently leaning over the sink into the bathroom mirror. The shot expands further to see the entire small brown walled cabin like restroom. The tiny shower is in the right hand corner of the room with the door still open and a water trail all the way to the man’s feet. The mundane unsettling look on the man’s face finally breaks. He turns and walks over to the towel rack; the shot pans down into the sink with a delicate water drip dissipating a few dabs of blood in the bowl next to a couple pieces of green dental floss. The scene switches rooms to Reno putting on his weathered mountain boots and lacing them all the way up. Gabe is wearing brown jeans and a white collared shirt reading “Volunteer” above the left breast pocket. Radicality Well, Caesar, be good now. Who volunteers on a fucking vacation... Reno gets up and walks into the kitchen grabbing a bag on top of the refrigerator, then pours it into a bowl on the ground… a white greyhound runs over to eat. Gabe pats the dog on the head, and grabs his coat off of the counter, then exits the front door opposite the kitchen. An old crumby sign becomes the focal point as the dog chows down, looking out the window; the print reads “Reddick Luxury Cabins”. Now opening with panning from a double door entry way reading “County General Store” slowly throughout the unsorted items for sale; the angle turns to the right side. A creeping camera focus arrives on Reno now behind a counter with an unpleasant bland look staring at the register. A customer approaches noticing his blank expression. Customer Uh, hey… sir, buddy, look do you guys happen to have the fleece zip downs or just the pull over shit on that rack; I like to breath once and a while. Gabe continues to stare at the register; the customer laughs to himself and turns back toward the rack as the manager, glimmering name tag and all bumps shoulders with him walking from the opposite direction. Manager Oh, my mistake, you okay there? We only get about ten zip downs when the merchandise comes in, we sell them, then just pull downs until the next shipment. Customer I’ll live. When is that? Kind of odd with the shiny name tag? Manager I like to keep my name tag clean, it is store policy, sir. We think it makes the shoppers feel a little more at home, you know, comfortable. As to those… probably two weeks, if you write down your number I can give you a call, provided you’re a local address? Customer Nah, just up for the next few days. You don’t think in a place that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in a decade that a clean name tag makes the difference? Manager What are you talking about…? I’ve been cleaning all week. The shot widens as the customer spins around noticing various unkempt piles throughout the racks and aisles. Reno smirks behind the register, then continues staring. Customer Really? Okay, well, way not to make things uncomfortable. I wish I was a local, because then I could a wait the next store adventure. But since that is not the case, dare I ask if another place sells them? The manager leans back and thinks for a moment before an epiphany finally presents itself, all the while the customer’s expression continues to mutate between humor and horror. Manager You mean, in town? Customer Right... obviously. With a serious offended expression breaking into a smirk the manager finally extracts the information from his inner thoughts. Manager In that case, there’s a place where they do sewing repairs up the road here to the left by the waffle house cafe… ask for Patty. She makes them, hand stitched better than this stuff anyway, to be frank. Customer Well… maybe I’ll do that… then. The manager nods and straightens up a rack nearby. The customer begins to walk toward the door, then turns and can’t help but ask the question. Customer Hey, what’s the deal with him? Manager Who, Reno? Just focused in... you must not watch a lot of Pro Wrestlin'... he is up here training, preparing for a match... with a fella' named Chaos. Customer Whoa, whoa… whoever, no I don't watch that shit, he’s at the cash register, I don’t know his name, and actually, I’d rather not it might make me remember him. What a tragic thing that would be. What kind of name is Reno, like the city? Like in Nevada? Reno squints behind them. Manager YEAH! Just like that... imagine his life. Customer No… I… don’t think… I will… The manager drops his head and walks into the nearby stock room. The customer looks through a few items on a shelf, glances at a passing semi attractive woman and then second guesses. He stops a few steps later, pulling a book off of the shelf. “The meaning of life and after that”; a perplexing expression for a moment, then just over the rack his attention is brought back to Reno behind the counter, still zoning off having not moved an inch from his original position. Customer Focused in, ha... more like LaLa land… mountain folk… unbelievable. On his way out the door the scene opens wide and slowly zooms into Gabe's face until uncomfortably close to his eyes, he finally blinks. The shot schizophrenically bounces until moving to a different shot. >> An expanded view opens the scene with weakened orange beams of sunlight fading behind the horizon beyond the distance in between enormous trees from a downward angle subtly panning across the crowded forest ground. Covered with pine needles, rocks, and brief glimmers from the light reflecting off of the water in the creeks. Slow pan switches from area to area in the forest, the light fading slightly more with each new area. A dense and murky feeling gently rises. Radicality When a man tells me that he is not to be reckoned; that he is so diabolical that society would cast him out as crazy; I would like to think we are past that as a people. I guess it just seems… I don’t know, it sounds a little, conjured. What’s so scary about… honestly? I don’t believe it. Stories and realms of this or that made to be horror by people that know zero limitations to corny endless spectacles... don’t really appeal to me. Sure, there’s a moment when you’re shocked, or the end game makes you want to vomit, but if it is vile, is that really scary? People being chopped up, or talking about their plot for fifteen minutes before it is inevitably foiled by the listener. It’s just sad. No effort, no ability or resolve, it’s just gotten to the point where being desensitized is more common than not. Maybe I’m just a product of that. A product of the endless ploys and action filled rants of Hollywood’s viewership on the masses. The nightmare isn’t the movie, it’s them making it. Right, Chris? The shot comes to the inside of a cabin somewhere deep in the mountains. Scrolling by "YOSEMITE GREETS YOU" brochures on the table. Gabe Reno maniacally looks at himself in the mirror, seemingly having a conversation with no one. Radicality I’m not trying to be scary... I am talking pure fear. When you look into human beings eyes and see nothing. When you know that unpredictable isn’t someone coming around a corner surprising you… no, it’s much more. The unseen is more fright and despair than the seen. Fear isn’t in action, it’s in inaction; the lack of something… not the production of it to stir the pot. He turns with a sickening glare in his eye looking through the mirror toward the camera. Radicality But what in real life can be that, genocide of an entire section of humans, a natural disaster that doubles as a murdering force in mere moments, maybe a homicidal maniac with a cult-like following? Help me understand, if you are what you describe, Chris, then how could you sit and have a casual conversation with me for Warfare? If you’re such a monster or sinister being? You really think, that I’m next or something, you’re going to get me, Chaos? Going to take me out? Gabe punches the mirror shattering it into many jagged pieces, then picking up the largest, sharpest, most jagged looking one. Radicality No, nothing like that… SEE CHAOS is a product of being INSECURE, CHRIS! You haven't really LIVED if you think violence is scary. You’re not really alive. The most single terrifying thing is what can’t be changed, not VIOLENCE. Well... maybe it is but.... you're a fucking figment of imagination, maybe even MY IMAGINATION! I THINK... YOU ARE ALREADY GONE. YEP, BEATEN BEFORE YOU EVEN STEPPED FOOT IN THAT RING. I’ve never seen a more deceased thing in my entire existence. Think about it, Chris. Where were you before you got here? Where were you? Reno begins slicing his own arm opening then smearing the blood all over the rest of the mirror left on the wall. He looks deep into it talking to Chaos, but into the camera as well. Radicality WERE YOU... at your car, grabbing some stuff, NO, WAIT, picking up supplies at the general store... CAN YOU EVEN REMEMBER!? What was the store called? Do you remember? WOULD YOU SWEAR it was the General Store, Maybe County General Store? DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE FUCK YOU EVEN ARE!? BECAUSE I DON'T THINK YOU DO SAYING THE SHIT YOU HAVE SAID TO ME! He slams his fists on the bathroom countertop cracking the tile. Radicality Who was the clerk at the store where you bought supplies? Was it a lady, a man, OHHH LET ME GUESS< a LADY! WAS she was a little hefty, dirty blonde, wearing a JACKET! WAS IT FUCKING CHAOS IN THERE!? What was her name? LET ME GUESS... you don’t fucking know her name! DO YOU usually know names of clerks who ring you up at every place you go!? IS IT TOO CHAOTIC TO REMEMBER!? SINCE YOU ARE SUCH A VIOLENT GUY EVERYWHERE YOU GO!? Pulling his own hair he begins to find a calmness that eerily takes over the shot. Radicality WHAT ABOUT A FAMILY.. DO YOU have a family... who is in it? Uncle’s and Aunt’s, cousins and sibling’s. A mother… a father. Children of you own, a wife? WHO THE FUCK WOULD BE FAMILY WITH SUCH A FUCKING CHAOTIC LUNATIC!? I had all of that… before I was consumed, Chris... because chaos went by the wayside, and something much worse engulfed my very way of thinking, me way of life. MY FUCKING WIFE GOT KILLED... MY STEP DAD, DEAD! I DIDN'T EMBRACE THE CHAOS... I DECIDED TO FIGHT IT! Has it hit you yet? That we aren’t actually having a conversation… don’t worry, you won’t remember this either after I BEAT THE CHAOS OUT OF YOU LIKE I DID THEN! Your purpose is not to beat me, go on to that CHAMBER MATCH... is something different; something… else. Reno looks into his own eyes deeply, then sits on the closed toilet seat as if reality is inevitable. Radicality You know what it is, Chris? Can you feel it? Do you suppress it... DEPP DOWN BENEATHE ALL THE CHAOS? It's to rise CHRIS, to the highest peaks in XWF... HIGHER THAN A MOUNTAIN.. and THEN... COLLAPSE. BECAUSE CHAOS CAN BE DEFEATED... by something... more... RADICAL. The shot begins to schizophrenically bouncing again fading in and out until changing altogether to another scene. >> The customer from the store is walking up hill as the snow really begins to blanket the street and come down, flakes of all sizes coating the street; in jeans and a long sleeve shirt trying to cross his arms over and again uncomfortably. Customer Once I get some breakfast in me I’ll warm right up, you’d think a mountain town would have some coat selection, but no, of course not, we just have to be weirdo’s and halt every conversation with uninformed misdirection about Professional Wrestling and a match coming up… FUCKIN' LOSERS... I hope there’s actually a waffle house up here… A voice in the near distance. Penelope You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I already said I was never at that damn place! I hate repeating myself when you’re too stumble ass drunk to listen to a word! NO ONE GIVES A FUCK IF RENO OR CHAOS WINS THAT STUPID FUCKING MATCH! Getting further up the road, a lodge on his right inevitably catches his eye because of the noise coming from it: a blonde lady on a blue balcony is yelling back into a room at someone, she stomps her feet further toward the door, then turns to exhale cigarette smoke. She tosses it into the snow over the balcony; then resumes her argument with someone inside. Penelope Because, we all know you’re an example everyone should follow, Charles! LIKE YOU FAVORITE, CHRIS CHAOS! How easily I forget how fucking perfect you can be! SO FUCKING CHATOIC, OOOOW! ASSHOLE! She rumbles back with her hand on the railing, their eyes meet for a moment; as he quickly averts back to the road. She turns back in as he picks up the pace and puts his hands in his pockets. Penelope I already told you, I need more cigarettes; I’ll be back later, if you’re lucky. Try not to die of alcohol poisoning before I get back. And turn off that XWF shit, it’ll rot your brain before the booze has a chance. The screen door slams as she exits across the road and turns down the street toward the store. The sound draws his attention, but continues walking, until he spots a glare in the tree above him. He quickly shuffles across the road and behind another snow covered tree on the other side now facing toward the girls back. Squinting he tries to make out the glare… Customer Are those… binoculars? He gathers himself up a few steps to a better vantage point. A closer look reveals the reason for the surprise. Customer The manager from the General Store? Looking down in disbelief, he slides into a sitting position behind his cover. The questions race through his mind, face turning paler by the second. Customer Hah? He looks back slowly around the tree… the man is no longer in his perch. Fearing for the woman, he looks up the street, nothing. Then, he looks down the street; the woman walking in the distance turns the street bend toward town, yet still, the Manager is nowhere in sight. Customer It’s okay, she’s someone you don’t even know, and he didn’t see you… its fine. Just grab some breakfast, you’ll feel better. Cold is probably playing tricks on your mind. Having decided to mind his own business he starts back up the street on foot. BANG… BANG… BANG… BANG… Startled by four pops sounding like gunshots, he falls to his butt then scurries back down behind the trees and looks back toward their origin. Just then, he looks to the balcony door being closed, through the glass catching a glimpse of the Manager’s face before letting the blinds down from the inside. In a panic, he starts back up the street. After more shots of him walking cold and shivering, the bell sounds entering a café door with sparse customers in the very back corner and empty booths leading up to them. Customer Did anyone else… uh… hear… No one turns to listen. He collects himself and takes a seat at the old wooden breakfast bar in front of the chef. A small television in the corner of the room catches his attention as it cuts in and out. The concerned look on the face of the reporter with a browning gray comb over adds tension. Television One of the most popular U.S. national parks on today has warned over 1,500 recent visitors they may have been exposed to a rare, rodent-borne disease, revelations coming after not one but two people died after visiting Yosemite National Park the past several months. (Static) The email alert warned of Hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, carried in the urine, saliva, or feces of infected deer mice is causing tremendous chaos. (Static) Customer I’ll be damned… Television Man's death at Yosemite tied to rodent-borne disease, hantavirus. (Static) All of the at-risk visitors had stayed in the park's Reddick Village. (Static) Health officials learned this weekend of the second Hantavirus death, which killed a person who visited the park in June, a spokesman said in a statement. Customer Oh this just keeps gettin' better... and better... A slow pan over his right shoulder says “Reddick Waffle House & Café”. The Waitress snaps her fingers after trying to draw his attention with trivial conversation. She notices his attention and watches the television for a moment with him. Television Another case of the illness has been confirmed, and a fourth is being investigated. (Static) The first death was reported earlier this month. Yosemite officials said Monday that the four visitors might have been exposed while vacationing at Curry Village. They warned those who stayed in the village's tent cabins from mid-June through the end of August to beware of any symptoms of (Static) Hantavirus, which can include fever, aches, dizziness and chaotic chills... Waitress Listen, Sweetheart, you can sit there all day worrying about what could happen, or you could order, feel a little better, and move a side for my next stampede of customers. The two share a laugh at the nearly empty place. Customer Yeah, I can see that… tell ya what, Eggs scrambled with wheat toast. Half cup, decalf. Waitress Wow, no waffles… That’s pretty rare. But you are too, aren’t you? Coming right up… sorry about the static on the television… I keep telling the owner the get with the times. Customer It’s no problem. Thank you. She walks around to give the order to the chef; his eyes narrow in on the odd look of the people in the corner, one man sitting alone with three plates chewing rigorously; a mother and her teenage daughter siting looking at each other with empty plates. The weariness persists, his senses heightened as his head turns with the sound of his eggs beginning to signal, crossing eyes with the chef. His eyes inevitably find their way back to the blurry television. Television Of the 502 documented cases since the virus was identified in 1991, about two-thirds proved fatal. (Static) There is no treatment for the virus. When we come back, we talk to Doctor Randall Marron, should we be worried about the chaos… Customer No cure… where there’s smoke there’s fire. Waitress They all just lie anyway, doesn’t get you anywhere. Customer Well kind of… Waitress Kind of? Customer It gets you somewhere, but then you look over your shoulder and say I’m over there, so how am I standing here where I don’t belong? She sets down his cup, gestures toward the door. Waitress Friend of yours? Peeking over his shoulder, Gabe Reno now has pinpointed him as a prolonged target. He shuffles awkwardly toward the breakfast bar and sits down next to the customer. A worried and uncertain look, the waitress see’s the unwanted expression and moves to intervene. Waitress Hey, toots, what can I get for ya? Even sitting his eyes remains pulsating and fixed on the customer. Waitress It’s not polite to stare, dear, how about a glass of water or nice warm milk… The Radical No! No. I can’t do that. Waitress Jesus, well this isn’t a lounge. Five minutes, order or leave and quick gockin’ at my paying customers… crazy asshole… The customer can’t contain his curiosity another moment. Customer You following me, buddy? Gabe finally looks away and pulls wrapped bag out of his back pack. Customer What is that? What are you doing? Gesturing for the customer to take it, Reno shoves it toward him forcefully, causing the man to spill his coffee on his shirt. Customer Hey, hey! Now that’s it, every man has a breaking point… you’re stomping all over mine. Ignore me the entire time I’m in the store when I ask a simple question, then you follow me suspiciously, and now you want to hand someone a fucking package in a spooked out mountain town as it is where some disease is mysteriously ravaging campers and I’m supposed to play it cool… no more! I’m done with this chaos! Your peeping-tom murderer manager said you were some wrestler… I don't give a fuck what you are focused on, it does not concern me! He looks around after his outburst; a few people in the café clear out away from him. Reno stays breathing heavy and puts the package on the counter. The customer pulls out some cash and throws it down on the counter, walking toward the door before stopping half way out, not noticing he left his cell phone on the counter in his chaotic tiff. Customer And don’t try to follow me! Waitress Happy now? Good payin' customer... thanks a lot. The Radical He'll be back. He looks at the phone, and waitress picks it up and stashes it behind the counter somewhere. She grabs a rag to soak up the spilled coffee and looks up at Gabe, still sitting unchanged at the counter: now closing in on the mother and daughter in a booth opposite the café breakfast bar. Daughter I don’t know where she is. Mother I know baby, your older sister likes to run away, but this time she hasn’t come back in months… I guess she’s an adult now. But I worry my heart away. Grabbing her mother hands from across the table. Daughter It’ll be okay. I'm sure Penelope is fine. Mother Yeah. Shoving full waffle plates of bacon, pancakes, and other assorted breakfast goodies in front of them, the waitress smile. Waitress Here you are, ladies. The Mother wipes a tear from her cheek. Mother Thank you, um, that’s perfect. Eat up sweety. Waitress So much gloom and chaos around here lately. I’m beginning to wonder if Yosemite is under some kind of spell. The girl looks up worried, knowing her sister is somewhere on her own. The chaotic feeling persists. Mother Well, it has been difficult as of late… but spells don’t exist. (The Waitress catches on) Waitress Certainly not, I just meant everyone’s mood, can I get you ladies anything else, refills perhaps? Mother We’re fine. Waitress Okie dokie. The waitress rounds back toward the bar, Reno is now gone, the package left on the bar. The waitress can’t help but wonder what is inside and opens the lid. The sweater the previous customer had been looking for is folded inside with a note that says “last one”. The customer who left his phone barges back in, ask the Waitress hands him his phone, then looks at him like he's an asshole. Customer Oh, thanks... sorry about all that, I left a tip, that guy was guy creeping me out, I don't care who he faces in some fake bullshit match this week... he has no right to make my life so chaotic like this from the store, to the creepy manager, and now some package? Waitress Maybe you should open it. Customer What? Waitress He left it over there, then disappeared... ya know, sometimes things aren't always what they seem, no matter how much chaos enters your life. I gotta clean up, hun. It's on the bar, there. Customer Maybe you're right. The customer walks over, still cold from the chill outside and frustrated. He pulls the bow on the package as the beautifully wrapped craftsmanship of the hand made wooden box is clearly displayed once the paper falls to the sides. On top is a beautiful bird and on the side an engraving reading "Yosemite Bird of Peace". He carefully opens the lid, as his eyes begin to tear up realizing how much of a fucking idiot he had been to react so chaotically. A perfect hand stitched sweater like the one he couldn't find in the store earlier lay inside. He picks it up, admires it, then puts it on for a moment, finally warm again. Gabe peeks in from the window outside, and smiles. >> A dense and murky feeling slowly returns, a scan through the night falling in the middle of the forest. The foggy suffocating clouds cover most of the visual, tiny snowflakes fall through the treetops contributing to the snowy comfort for a slight second. Gabe's voice, unstable but overconfident begins to take over. What’s the matter, Chaos? LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE!? EVEN YOU CANNOT BEAT KINDNESS. IT WAS THE PERFECT STRATEGY! What, you're no good with the truth? Why should this be any different than saying the fucking house dog ate your homework, or that your temperature has run rampant when your parents try to drag you to school as a child? YOU'LL NEED A FUCKING EXCUSE AFTER THIS MATCH! Or ARE YOU REALLY JUST SCARED? Fear of the unknown. You've never been bludgeoned repeatedly and left in the ring disoriented and dumbstruck... you know what I fear? The known. Why!? I KNOW... doesn’t make any sense, the known is there, you are familiar with it, no surprises, RIGHT!? No, you’re just comforted by it, it fools your senses. People are shocked and appalled by disasters, or shootings, or a guy that walks into the middle of a holy war zone and blows him and twenty other souls to hell… why, because it’s surprising? Does the CHAOS make you wonder what the world is coming to, things like that… but things are no different than they ever were. YOU ARE NO GREAT VIOLENCE THAT DIDN'T EXIST BEFORE. You are part of the same endless cycle, Chris. Slowly the chaotic feeling in the room and uncomfortable vibe begins to dissipate. A Kindness and certainty take over, almost as if everyone knows what happens next. The world is exactly the same it always was, there are good, there are bad, and there are herds of sheep standing around commentating on both. Exposure is what has changed, the fact that now when shit blows up, twenty seconds later there’s a guy with a camera projecting it onto twenty thousand internet sites and television channels. That changing... media advancements... doesn't make you the symbol of dominance. It makes you... no more than you ever were... little Chris Chaos from Florida. ALL MEDIA DOES, is that slowly, over time you start going “well, that’s just another fuckin’ bombing by another bunch of fuckin’ bombers in the center of a fuckin’ bomb zone.” Desensitization will end the world, Chris. NOT VIOLENCE. NOT CHAOS. People stop caring about how chaotic shit is, and pretty soon the violence, the mayhem, the religion, and the coverage add up to making it that much easier, little by fucking little, to pull a trigger, or press a button from a million miles away. Because, what we don’t know isn’t scary, it’s insignificant, and as long as our family isn’t in the way, hey, to hell they go. Into the eye of the storm... not into the eye of Chaos. But what do I know, I'm one hell of an optimist, right? Maybe even optimists aren’t optimists… they’re pessimists in disguise. BE AS CRAZY... AS CHAOTIC as you want on SAVAGE... I'll kill it with kindness again and again... and I will take your Chamber spot from you... if I have to pry it from your cold... lifeless fingers, then reanimate then for Warfare, because I will be Universal Champion, and we will be Tag Champions... very... very... soon. There can only be one KING, Chaos, I'm sorry... But hey, you'll make a kick-ass DUKE! Gabe grabs the camera lens back in the bathroom... looks into the camera, then shoves it out of his face, leaving a trail of blood from his open wound, not giving a fuck about the chaos left behind. <<<<< CHAMBER SWAP COMPLETE BITCH. ------- ------------------- -------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------

[Gator]

RADICAL || "EYEOFCHAOS" || XWF#0012 || EVENT#3 ------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------- ------------------- ------- ENTER THE EYE >>>>> I know a thing or two about chaos. What it's like to be in the ring, giving your guts for glory and your long term future for a W right now. Career length is short, so you have to make the most of it. You have to sweat, cry, and BLEED for this business because it will not feel sorry for you. It will not give you more chances than what you earn. Every match matters. every moment bigger than the last, and every ounce of mayhem a tribute and notch on your belt IF you win. My philosophy is simple... don't do it for nothing. Don't endure the punishment and strain that matches of this caliber take on you and pull deep out of you for a LOSS. Don't live with regrets, look over your shoulder, or live to fight another day... TODAY IS MY TOMORROW. I do not take lightly the fact that Vinnie Lane gave me this chance to shine against one of the biggest and newest competitors... a shining fucking star in Chris Chaos. He has the IT FACTOR that most of those men back there wish they had. BUT... he doesn't have something that I DO. He may threaten violence and beatings of a century... but I've been there, I've felt that pain before. To scare me you would have to do a hell of a lot more than that, a level of which I have not felt in a VERY LONG TIME. I was a part of the takeovers a decade ago when I got my start in this business. I saw men do WHATEVER IT TOOK TO WIN. They had families to feed, they had to survive no matter the cost to their bodies or their futures. AND I BEAT THEM. BLOOD POURING FROM MY SKULL, I HAD MY HAND RAISED EVEN WHEN I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THE FUCK I WAS. I would wake up the next day with a title draped over my shoulder, wondering what the fuck actually happened. And then I would look at the tape. SEE CHRIS... talking gets you a lot of places in life. You can do a lot with a few carefully placed words if you know what to say and how to use them. BUT, when I get into that ring, when I lose the blood from the CHAOS YOU PROMISE... that is when I am most dangerous, not weakest. YOU MAKE A DANGEROUS ASSUMPTION... that I am like everyone else you have come across... that I cannot handle a little punishment. But you're wrong. When my head starts to sway, when I see my DNA hit the mat in a crimson smear of brutal acquiescence, I smile. I may not remember on SUNDAY what the fuck we did on SATURDAY NIGHT... but I can tell you that when my instincts kick in, when you think I am down for the count and hurting too badly to continue... THAT, CHRIS. THAT. IS WHERE. I WILL HAVE YOU. I will kick it into another GEAR and overwhelm you to a point that you don't even FUCKING REALIZE what is coming from where. BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, you'll wake up in the center of that ring surrounded by WEAPONS and BLOOD... WITH MY MUSIC PLAYING, and your CHAMBER CHANCE GONE. Because Vinnie Lane made this match for three reasons... ONE, TO GIVE BOURBON AND TRAX a fair shake Wednesday once we destroy each other Saturday. TWO, TO MAKE YOU stop asking for better competition and earn your place. AND THREE, TO CHALLENGE ME to beat one of his rising stars because to him, it's WIN-WIN. ONE OF US WILL RISE, BE BIG BOX OFFICE BY BEATING THE OTHER... and he can market that going into a CHAMBER MATCH will guys, everyone already knows about. THEY ARE BORING. HE NEEDS NEW BLOOD, A NEW NARRATIVE, A NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION. Someone to carry the torch he lit to brightly with guys like DOC and SOLDIER, SCULLY AND BARNEY... WE ARE THOSE GUYS. THERE IS room at the top for TAG GLORY, there is room at the top for the MCBRIDE'S to take the TV, X-TREME, or for DOLLY to handle the HART of the matter... but there is only room for ONE at the PEAK. AND THAT, MY OVERZEALOUS COMPADRE, IS THE RADICAL. YOU HAVE TALENT, but you don't EAT, BREATHE, AND SHIT WRESTLLNG LIKE I DO. THAT MAKE US GREAT AS A TEAM. BUT it doesn't work in your favor AGAINST ME. No matter how you slice it, no matter how crazy violent you want to be Saturday Night on Savage... I WILL MATCH YOU, AND BE MORE VIOLENT, MORE RADICAL, AND MORE FUCKING CHAOTIC! See I know how to conquer chaos, not with violence, but with kindness. KILL IT WITH KINDNESS. DEAD. >> A hazel human eyeball the focus… the shot widens back to reveal Gabe Reno in what appears to be the same bathroom earlier in the day. Staring at himself incoherently leaning over the sink into the bathroom mirror. The shot expands further to see the entire small brown walled cabin like restroom. The tiny shower is in the right hand corner of the room with the door still open and a water trail all the way to the man’s feet. The mundane unsettling look on the man’s face finally breaks. He turns and walks over to the towel rack; the shot pans down into the sink with a delicate water drip dissipating a few dabs of blood in the bowl next to a couple pieces of green dental floss. The scene switches rooms to Reno putting on his weathered mountain boots and lacing them all the way up. Gabe is wearing brown jeans and a white collared shirt reading “Volunteer” above the left breast pocket. Radicality Well, Caesar, be good now. Who volunteers on a fucking vacation... Reno gets up and walks into the kitchen grabbing a bag on top of the refrigerator, then pours it into a bowl on the ground… a white greyhound runs over to eat. Gabe pats the dog on the head, and grabs his coat off of the counter, then exits the front door opposite the kitchen. An old crumby sign becomes the focal point as the dog chows down, looking out the window; the print reads “Reddick Luxury Cabins”. Now opening with panning from a double door entry way reading “County General Store” slowly throughout the unsorted items for sale; the angle turns to the right side. A creeping camera focus arrives on Reno now behind a counter with an unpleasant bland look staring at the register. A customer approaches noticing his blank expression. Customer Uh, hey… sir, buddy, look do you guys happen to have the fleece zip downs or just the pull over shit on that rack; I like to breath once and a while. Gabe continues to stare at the register; the customer laughs to himself and turns back toward the rack as the manager, glimmering name tag and all bumps shoulders with him walking from the opposite direction. Manager Oh, my mistake, you okay there? We only get about ten zip downs when the merchandise comes in, we sell them, then just pull downs until the next shipment. Customer I’ll live. When is that? Kind of odd with the shiny name tag? Manager I like to keep my name tag clean, it is store policy, sir. We think it makes the shoppers feel a little more at home, you know, comfortable. As to those… probably two weeks, if you write down your number I can give you a call, provided you’re a local address? Customer Nah, just up for the next few days. You don’t think in a place that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in a decade that a clean name tag makes the difference? Manager What are you talking about…? I’ve been cleaning all week. The shot widens as the customer spins around noticing various unkempt piles throughout the racks and aisles. Reno smirks behind the register, then continues staring. Customer Really? Okay, well, way not to make things uncomfortable. I wish I was a local, because then I could a wait the next store adventure. But since that is not the case, dare I ask if another place sells them? The manager leans back and thinks for a moment before an epiphany finally presents itself, all the while the customer’s expression continues to mutate between humor and horror. Manager You mean, in town? Customer Right... obviously. With a serious offended expression breaking into a smirk the manager finally extracts the information from his inner thoughts. Manager In that case, there’s a place where they do sewing repairs up the road here to the left by the waffle house cafe… ask for Patty. She makes them, hand stitched better than this stuff anyway, to be frank. Customer Well… maybe I’ll do that… then. The manager nods and straightens up a rack nearby. The customer begins to walk toward the door, then turns and can’t help but ask the question. Customer Hey, what’s the deal with him? Manager Who, Reno? Just focused in... you must not watch a lot of Pro Wrestlin'... he is up here training, preparing for a match... with a fella' named Chaos. Customer Whoa, whoa… whoever, no I don't watch that shit, he’s at the cash register, I don’t know his name, and actually, I’d rather not it might make me remember him. What a tragic thing that would be. What kind of name is Reno, like the city? Like in Nevada? Reno squints behind them. Manager YEAH! Just like that... imagine his life. Customer No… I… don’t think… I will… The manager drops his head and walks into the nearby stock room. The customer looks through a few items on a shelf, glances at a passing semi attractive woman and then second guesses. He stops a few steps later, pulling a book off of the shelf. “The meaning of life and after that”; a perplexing expression for a moment, then just over the rack his attention is brought back to Reno behind the counter, still zoning off having not moved an inch from his original position. Customer Focused in, ha... more like LaLa land… mountain folk… unbelievable. On his way out the door the scene opens wide and slowly zooms into Gabe's face until uncomfortably close to his eyes, he finally blinks. The shot schizophrenically bounces until moving to a different shot. >> An expanded view opens the scene with weakened orange beams of sunlight fading behind the horizon beyond the distance in between enormous trees from a downward angle subtly panning across the crowded forest ground. Covered with pine needles, rocks, and brief glimmers from the light reflecting off of the water in the creeks. Slow pan switches from area to area in the forest, the light fading slightly more with each new area. A dense and murky feeling gently rises. Radicality When a man tells me that he is not to be reckoned; that he is so diabolical that society would cast him out as crazy; I would like to think we are past that as a people. I guess it just seems… I don’t know, it sounds a little, conjured. What’s so scary about… honestly? I don’t believe it. Stories and realms of this or that made to be horror by people that know zero limitations to corny endless spectacles... don’t really appeal to me. Sure, there’s a moment when you’re shocked, or the end game makes you want to vomit, but if it is vile, is that really scary? People being chopped up, or talking about their plot for fifteen minutes before it is inevitably foiled by the listener. It’s just sad. No effort, no ability or resolve, it’s just gotten to the point where being desensitized is more common than not. Maybe I’m just a product of that. A product of the endless ploys and action filled rants of Hollywood’s viewership on the masses. The nightmare isn’t the movie, it’s them making it. Right, Chris? The shot comes to the inside of a cabin somewhere deep in the mountains. Scrolling by "YOSEMITE GREETS YOU" brochures on the table. Gabe Reno maniacally looks at himself in the mirror, seemingly having a conversation with no one. Radicality I’m not trying to be scary... I am talking pure fear. When you look into human beings eyes and see nothing. When you know that unpredictable isn’t someone coming around a corner surprising you… no, it’s much more. The unseen is more fright and despair than the seen. Fear isn’t in action, it’s in inaction; the lack of something… not the production of it to stir the pot. He turns with a sickening glare in his eye looking through the mirror toward the camera. Radicality But what in real life can be that, genocide of an entire section of humans, a natural disaster that doubles as a murdering force in mere moments, maybe a homicidal maniac with a cult-like following? Help me understand, if you are what you describe, Chris, then how could you sit and have a casual conversation with me for Warfare? If you’re such a monster or sinister being? You really think, that I’m next or something, you’re going to get me, Chaos? Going to take me out? Gabe punches the mirror shattering it into many jagged pieces, then picking up the largest, sharpest, most jagged looking one. Radicality No, nothing like that… SEE CHAOS is a product of being INSECURE, CHRIS! You haven't really LIVED if you think violence is scary. You’re not really alive. The most single terrifying thing is what can’t be changed, not VIOLENCE. Well... maybe it is but.... you're a fucking figment of imagination, maybe even MY IMAGINATION! I THINK... YOU ARE ALREADY GONE. YEP, BEATEN BEFORE YOU EVEN STEPPED FOOT IN THAT RING. I’ve never seen a more deceased thing in my entire existence. Think about it, Chris. Where were you before you got here? Where were you? Reno begins slicing his own arm opening then smearing the blood all over the rest of the mirror left on the wall. He looks deep into it talking to Chaos, but into the camera as well. Radicality WERE YOU... at your car, grabbing some stuff, NO, WAIT, picking up supplies at the general store... CAN YOU EVEN REMEMBER!? What was the store called? Do you remember? WOULD YOU SWEAR it was the General Store, Maybe County General Store? DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE FUCK YOU EVEN ARE!? BECAUSE I DON'T THINK YOU DO SAYING THE SHIT YOU HAVE SAID TO ME! He slams his fists on the bathroom countertop cracking the tile. Radicality Who was the clerk at the store where you bought supplies? Was it a lady, a man, OHHH LET ME GUESS< a LADY! WAS she was a little hefty, dirty blonde, wearing a JACKET! WAS IT FUCKING CHAOS IN THERE!? What was her name? LET ME GUESS... you don’t fucking know her name! DO YOU usually know names of clerks who ring you up at every place you go!? IS IT TOO CHAOTIC TO REMEMBER!? SINCE YOU ARE SUCH A VIOLENT GUY EVERYWHERE YOU GO!? Pulling his own hair he begins to find a calmness that eerily takes over the shot. Radicality WHAT ABOUT A FAMILY.. DO YOU have a family... who is in it? Uncle’s and Aunt’s, cousins and sibling’s. A mother… a father. Children of you own, a wife? WHO THE FUCK WOULD BE FAMILY WITH SUCH A FUCKING CHAOTIC LUNATIC!? I had all of that… before I was consumed, Chris... because chaos went by the wayside, and something much worse engulfed my very way of thinking, me way of life. MY FUCKING WIFE GOT KILLED... MY STEP DAD, DEAD! I DIDN'T EMBRACE THE CHAOS... I DECIDED TO FIGHT IT! Has it hit you yet? That we aren’t actually having a conversation… don’t worry, you won’t remember this either after I BEAT THE CHAOS OUT OF YOU LIKE I DID THEN! Your purpose is not to beat me, go on to that CHAMBER MATCH... is something different; something… else. Reno looks into his own eyes deeply, then sits on the closed toilet seat as if reality is inevitable. Radicality You know what it is, Chris? Can you feel it? Do you suppress it... DEPP DOWN BENEATHE ALL THE CHAOS? It's to rise CHRIS, to the highest peaks in XWF... HIGHER THAN A MOUNTAIN.. and THEN... COLLAPSE. BECAUSE CHAOS CAN BE DEFEATED... by something... more... RADICAL. The shot begins to schizophrenically bouncing again fading in and out until changing altogether to another scene. >> The customer from the store is walking up hill as the snow really begins to blanket the street and come down, flakes of all sizes coating the street; in jeans and a long sleeve shirt trying to cross his arms over and again uncomfortably. Customer Once I get some breakfast in me I’ll warm right up, you’d think a mountain town would have some coat selection, but no, of course not, we just have to be weirdo’s and halt every conversation with uninformed misdirection about Professional Wrestling and a match coming up… FUCKIN' LOSERS... I hope there’s actually a waffle house up here… A voice in the near distance. Penelope You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I already said I was never at that damn place! I hate repeating myself when you’re too stumble ass drunk to listen to a word! NO ONE GIVES A FUCK IF RENO OR CHAOS WINS THAT STUPID FUCKING MATCH! Getting further up the road, a lodge on his right inevitably catches his eye because of the noise coming from it: a blonde lady on a blue balcony is yelling back into a room at someone, she stomps her feet further toward the door, then turns to exhale cigarette smoke. She tosses it into the snow over the balcony; then resumes her argument with someone inside. Penelope Because, we all know you’re an example everyone should follow, Charles! LIKE YOU FAVORITE, CHRIS CHAOS! How easily I forget how fucking perfect you can be! SO FUCKING CHATOIC, OOOOW! ASSHOLE! She rumbles back with her hand on the railing, their eyes meet for a moment; as he quickly averts back to the road. She turns back in as he picks up the pace and puts his hands in his pockets. Penelope I already told you, I need more cigarettes; I’ll be back later, if you’re lucky. Try not to die of alcohol poisoning before I get back. And turn off that XWF shit, it’ll rot your brain before the booze has a chance. The screen door slams as she exits across the road and turns down the street toward the store. The sound draws his attention, but continues walking, until he spots a glare in the tree above him. He quickly shuffles across the road and behind another snow covered tree on the other side now facing toward the girls back. Squinting he tries to make out the glare… Customer Are those… binoculars? He gathers himself up a few steps to a better vantage point. A closer look reveals the reason for the surprise. Customer The manager from the General Store? Looking down in disbelief, he slides into a sitting position behind his cover. The questions race through his mind, face turning paler by the second. Customer Hah? He looks back slowly around the tree… the man is no longer in his perch. Fearing for the woman, he looks up the street, nothing. Then, he looks down the street; the woman walking in the distance turns the street bend toward town, yet still, the Manager is nowhere in sight. Customer It’s okay, she’s someone you don’t even know, and he didn’t see you… its fine. Just grab some breakfast, you’ll feel better. Cold is probably playing tricks on your mind. Having decided to mind his own business he starts back up the street on foot. BANG… BANG… BANG… BANG… Startled by four pops sounding like gunshots, he falls to his butt then scurries back down behind the trees and looks back toward their origin. Just then, he looks to the balcony door being closed, through the glass catching a glimpse of the Manager’s face before letting the blinds down from the inside. In a panic, he starts back up the street. After more shots of him walking cold and shivering, the bell sounds entering a café door with sparse customers in the very back corner and empty booths leading up to them. Customer Did anyone else… uh… hear… No one turns to listen. He collects himself and takes a seat at the old wooden breakfast bar in front of the chef. A small television in the corner of the room catches his attention as it cuts in and out. The concerned look on the face of the reporter with a browning gray comb over adds tension. Television One of the most popular U.S. national parks on today has warned over 1,500 recent visitors they may have been exposed to a rare, rodent-borne disease, revelations coming after not one but two people died after visiting Yosemite National Park the past several months. (Static) The email alert warned of Hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, carried in the urine, saliva, or feces of infected deer mice is causing tremendous chaos. (Static) Customer I’ll be damned… Television Man's death at Yosemite tied to rodent-borne disease, hantavirus. (Static) All of the at-risk visitors had stayed in the park's Reddick Village. (Static) Health officials learned this weekend of the second Hantavirus death, which killed a person who visited the park in June, a spokesman said in a statement. Customer Oh this just keeps gettin' better... and better... A slow pan over his right shoulder says “Reddick Waffle House & Café”. The Waitress snaps her fingers after trying to draw his attention with trivial conversation. She notices his attention and watches the television for a moment with him. Television Another case of the illness has been confirmed, and a fourth is being investigated. (Static) The first death was reported earlier this month. Yosemite officials said Monday that the four visitors might have been exposed while vacationing at Curry Village. They warned those who stayed in the village's tent cabins from mid-June through the end of August to beware of any symptoms of (Static) Hantavirus, which can include fever, aches, dizziness and chaotic chills... Waitress Listen, Sweetheart, you can sit there all day worrying about what could happen, or you could order, feel a little better, and move a side for my next stampede of customers. The two share a laugh at the nearly empty place. Customer Yeah, I can see that… tell ya what, Eggs scrambled with wheat toast. Half cup, decalf. Waitress Wow, no waffles… That’s pretty rare. But you are too, aren’t you? Coming right up… sorry about the static on the television… I keep telling the owner the get with the times. Customer It’s no problem. Thank you. She walks around to give the order to the chef; his eyes narrow in on the odd look of the people in the corner, one man sitting alone with three plates chewing rigorously; a mother and her teenage daughter siting looking at each other with empty plates. The weariness persists, his senses heightened as his head turns with the sound of his eggs beginning to signal, crossing eyes with the chef. His eyes inevitably find their way back to the blurry television. Television Of the 502 documented cases since the virus was identified in 1991, about two-thirds proved fatal. (Static) There is no treatment for the virus. When we come back, we talk to Doctor Randall Marron, should we be worried about the chaos… Customer No cure… where there’s smoke there’s fire. Waitress They all just lie anyway, doesn’t get you anywhere. Customer Well kind of… Waitress Kind of? Customer It gets you somewhere, but then you look over your shoulder and say I’m over there, so how am I standing here where I don’t belong? She sets down his cup, gestures toward the door. Waitress Friend of yours? Peeking over his shoulder, Gabe Reno now has pinpointed him as a prolonged target. He shuffles awkwardly toward the breakfast bar and sits down next to the customer. A worried and uncertain look, the waitress see’s the unwanted expression and moves to intervene. Waitress Hey, toots, what can I get for ya? Even sitting his eyes remains pulsating and fixed on the customer. Waitress It’s not polite to stare, dear, how about a glass of water or nice warm milk… The Radical No! No. I can’t do that. Waitress Jesus, well this isn’t a lounge. Five minutes, order or leave and quick gockin’ at my paying customers… crazy asshole… The customer can’t contain his curiosity another moment. Customer You following me, buddy? Gabe finally looks away and pulls wrapped bag out of his back pack. Customer What is that? What are you doing? Gesturing for the customer to take it, Reno shoves it toward him forcefully, causing the man to spill his coffee on his shirt. Customer Hey, hey! Now that’s it, every man has a breaking point… you’re stomping all over mine. Ignore me the entire time I’m in the store when I ask a simple question, then you follow me suspiciously, and now you want to hand someone a fucking package in a spooked out mountain town as it is where some disease is mysteriously ravaging campers and I’m supposed to play it cool… no more! I’m done with this chaos! Your peeping-tom murderer manager said you were some wrestler… I don't give a fuck what you are focused on, it does not concern me! He looks around after his outburst; a few people in the café clear out away from him. Reno stays breathing heavy and puts the package on the counter. The customer pulls out some cash and throws it down on the counter, walking toward the door before stopping half way out, not noticing he left his cell phone on the counter in his chaotic tiff. Customer And don’t try to follow me! Waitress Happy now? Good payin' customer... thanks a lot. The Radical He'll be back. He looks at the phone, and waitress picks it up and stashes it behind the counter somewhere. She grabs a rag to soak up the spilled coffee and looks up at Gabe, still sitting unchanged at the counter: now closing in on the mother and daughter in a booth opposite the café breakfast bar. Daughter I don’t know where she is. Mother I know baby, your older sister likes to run away, but this time she hasn’t come back in months… I guess she’s an adult now. But I worry my heart away. Grabbing her mother hands from across the table. Daughter It’ll be okay. I'm sure Penelope is fine. Mother Yeah. Shoving full waffle plates of bacon, pancakes, and other assorted breakfast goodies in front of them, the waitress smile. Waitress Here you are, ladies. The Mother wipes a tear from her cheek. Mother Thank you, um, that’s perfect. Eat up sweety. Waitress So much gloom and chaos around here lately. I’m beginning to wonder if Yosemite is under some kind of spell. The girl looks up worried, knowing her sister is somewhere on her own. The chaotic feeling persists. Mother Well, it has been difficult as of late… but spells don’t exist. (The Waitress catches on) Waitress Certainly not, I just meant everyone’s mood, can I get you ladies anything else, refills perhaps? Mother We’re fine. Waitress Okie dokie. The waitress rounds back toward the bar, Reno is now gone, the package left on the bar. The waitress can’t help but wonder what is inside and opens the lid. The sweater the previous customer had been looking for is folded inside with a note that says “last one”. The customer who left his phone barges back in, ask the Waitress hands him his phone, then looks at him like he's an asshole. Customer Oh, thanks... sorry about all that, I left a tip, that guy was guy creeping me out, I don't care who he faces in some fake bullshit match this week... he has no right to make my life so chaotic like this from the store, to the creepy manager, and now some package? Waitress Maybe you should open it. Customer What? Waitress He left it over there, then disappeared... ya know, sometimes things aren't always what they seem, no matter how much chaos enters your life. I gotta clean up, hun. It's on the bar, there. Customer Maybe you're right. The customer walks over, still cold from the chill outside and frustrated. He pulls the bow on the package as the beautifully wrapped craftsmanship of the hand made wooden box is clearly displayed once the paper falls to the sides. On top is a beautiful bird and on the side an engraving reading "Yosemite Bird of Peace". He carefully opens the lid, as his eyes begin to tear up realizing how much of a fucking idiot he had been to react so chaotically. A perfect hand stitched sweater like the one he couldn't find in the store earlier lay inside. He picks it up, admires it, then puts it on for a moment, finally warm again. Gabe peeks in from the window outside, and smiles. >> A dense and murky feeling slowly returns, a scan through the night falling in the middle of the forest. The foggy suffocating clouds cover most of the visual, tiny snowflakes fall through the treetops contributing to the snowy comfort for a slight second. Gabe's voice, unstable but overconfident begins to take over. What’s the matter, Chaos? LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE!? EVEN YOU CANNOT BEAT KINDNESS. IT WAS THE PERFECT STRATEGY! What, you're no good with the truth? Why should this be any different than saying the fucking house dog ate your homework, or that your temperature has run rampant when your parents try to drag you to school as a child? YOU'LL NEED A FUCKING EXCUSE AFTER THIS MATCH! Or ARE YOU REALLY JUST SCARED? Fear of the unknown. You've never been bludgeoned repeatedly and left in the ring disoriented and dumbstruck... you know what I fear? The known. Why!? I KNOW... doesn’t make any sense, the known is there, you are familiar with it, no surprises, RIGHT!? No, you’re just comforted by it, it fools your senses. People are shocked and appalled by disasters, or shootings, or a guy that walks into the middle of a holy war zone and blows him and twenty other souls to hell… why, because it’s surprising? Does the CHAOS make you wonder what the world is coming to, things like that… but things are no different than they ever were. YOU ARE NO GREAT VIOLENCE THAT DIDN'T EXIST BEFORE. You are part of the same endless cycle, Chris. Slowly the chaotic feeling in the room and uncomfortable vibe begins to dissipate. A Kindness and certainty take over, almost as if everyone knows what happens next. The world is exactly the same it always was, there are good, there are bad, and there are herds of sheep standing around commentating on both. Exposure is what has changed, the fact that now when shit blows up, twenty seconds later there’s a guy with a camera projecting it onto twenty thousand internet sites and television channels. That changing... media advancements... doesn't make you the symbol of dominance. It makes you... no more than you ever were... little Chris Chaos from Florida. ALL MEDIA DOES, is that slowly, over time you start going “well, that’s just another fuckin’ bombing by another bunch of fuckin’ bombers in the center of a fuckin’ bomb zone.” Desensitization will end the world, Chris. NOT VIOLENCE. NOT CHAOS. People stop caring about how chaotic shit is, and pretty soon the violence, the mayhem, the religion, and the coverage add up to making it that much easier, little by fucking little, to pull a trigger, or press a button from a million miles away. Because, what we don’t know isn’t scary, it’s insignificant, and as long as our family isn’t in the way, hey, to hell they go. Into the eye of the storm... not into the eye of Chaos. But what do I know, I'm one hell of an optimist, right? Maybe even optimists aren’t optimists… they’re pessimists in disguise. BE AS CRAZY... AS CHAOTIC as you want on SAVAGE... I'll kill it with kindness again and again... and I will take your Chamber spot from you... if I have to pry it from your cold... lifeless fingers, then reanimate then for Warfare, because I will be Universal Champion, and we will be Tag Champions... very... very... soon. There can only be one KING, Chaos, I'm sorry... But hey, you'll make a kick-ass DUKE! Gabe grabs the camera lens back in the bathroom... looks into the camera, then shoves it out of his face, leaving a trail of blood from his open wound, not giving a fuck about the chaos left behind. <<<<< CHAMBER SWAP COMPLETE BITCH. ------- ------------------- -------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------