The scene began in Sunny Austin, Texas. The home of one Paul London. Not only was there a camera in his home state but also one in his actual home. The backyard to be specific. Not a bad looking place for a wrestler who has never gotten past the midcard level. It even looks like a swell neighborhood. An outdoor pool, held together by dark brown colored wood and built into the patio, glistened in the sunlight and London himself was laying beside it in a lounge chair. He was dressed in a pair of Hawaiian shorts and appeared to be working on his tan as he was also shirtless and wearing a pair of dark sunglasses.
| Paul London | Ah. Didn't see you there. Welcome.
The dark haired Texan sat up and removed his shades. His hands folded and he gave a gentle smile.
| Paul London | This may seem surprising considering the field I'm in but I pride myself on being a peaceful person. I like things nice..and peaceful.
With arms spread outwards and birds chirping, it was difficult to argue with him.
| Paul London | I also like things to be very controlled. A nice controlled environment. At times that can be met with resistance.
He reaches over to a small table nearby to fetch a glass of pink lemonade. It has a little umbrella in it and even a bendy straw. He takes a sip of the ice cold beverage to quench his thirst.
| Paul London | ..But not for very long. Eventually, people begin to see things my way. Their brain waves just sort of begin to mesh with mine.
A decidedly female screech comes from inside of the house. London gives it a glance but merely shrugs it off.
| Paul London | Last week I told the world that I was going to defeat The Undertaker. No one believed me. Everyone doubted me. But lo and behold..I spoke nothing but the truth. This week I've got to face Cody Rhodes before I can get my shot at the World Title. And this time I think more people are going to see things my way.
Reaching into his pocket, he produces a small puppet which is held together by some strings which he uses to dangle it about. It's pure white with no features and it's limbs dance about helplessly. London rests a free hand on his forehead and tilts his head backwards.
| Paul London | Alas, I'm Cody Rhodes. I can't show my face in public anymore. Woe is me. I'm so ugly I'm even ugly on the phone. Boo hoo..
The puppet twirls and spins under London's control.
| Paul London | Poor Cody Rhodes and his disfigurement. Angry at the world and everyone in it. Well, Cody, like I said, I like things peaceful. Calm. Relaxing. And somehow I don't think you're going to feel the same way. But you will. You're going to be very calm. And very relaxed. And quiet..as..a..mouse..
One of his hands tightly grip the puppet and force it's body to close into itself. The head does a quick 360 before London tosses it away, causing to smack into the door behind him. He dusts his hands off and continues.
| Paul London | When I completely leave you unconscious. When I climb to the top rope and drive you into the mat with the Shooting Star Press. Which, I might add, is much better than Evan Bourne's..
He holds up his hands in innocence.
Hey, I advanced in this tournament and Bourne didn't. Just saying. Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Your mind, Cody Rhodes, is just ripe for the picking. It's a playground. A twisted playground but a playground nonetheless. I could do so many horrible things to your always fragile little, broken psyche. So I think you should just lay down for me and spare yourself the anguish. Your play toy of a brain is already in enough of a wreck as it is. I wouldn't want it to get any worse. Not that it could possibly be any worse than that face you hide away.
The screaming begins again. Some of the blinds from the window behind London are moved apart and we can spot the female inside. Her voice is hoarse from shouting. The garish make-up she wears is running down her face. The fingernails scratch at the surface of the glass.
| Tiffany | Let me out you FREAK! Let me OUT!
| Paul London | Do you see what happens when you resist me? It just makes things more difficult. Tyler..
London sighs remorsefully as Tyler Reks steps onto the porch beside him. He's stoic, even more so than usual and seems to be only awaiting commands.
| Paul London | Could you do something about that, please? She's being such a bother. Interrupting my promo time. The nerve.
| Tyler Reks | Gotcha.
Reks nods and steps his way inside of the home and the screaming becomes more frantic before quickly dying out. London drums his fingers across his cheek and smiles to the camera. One has to wonder what the MIA Brian Kendrick would think about how his lackies were being utilized.
| Paul London | Only one week ago Tyler couldn't stand to be around me. Not look at him. A loyal solider. Oh, it didn't take much. Just a little gaslighting amongst other things. Not sure what that means? That's fine. Let's just say that I changed Tyler's perception. And I'll do the same to Tiffany as well. She's putting up a little more fight but..hey..it happens..
Another shrug of the shoulders.
| Paul London | And it's going to continue. I'll keep on altering perceptions. Not only of my opponents, like Cody Rhodes, but our entire audience as well. But Cody is first in line. And, Cody, I should warn you. It's hard to know what's real when you're not. I can take you places. But they won't be places you want to go. But let's not dwell on this for any longer..
London kicks back in his lounge chair again and slides his arms behind his head.
| Paul London | Let's think of the FUTURE! Namely The Elimination Chamber. I've got a knack for elimination. And I'll be the World Champion of this company. And when I do? Things are going to so calm. SO calm. And blissful. And relaxing. Because I'll make it that way. Whether want me to or not.
London clicks his tongue inside of his mouth and points to the camera as it begins to back away.
| Paul London | Ciao. Got to work on my tan. Have to look good and proper. Not all of us have to look like repulsive sewer dwellers like Mr. Un-Dashing.
His sunglasses slide back over his hues as the scene fades out.
No comments:
Post a Comment