Post by thehaunted on Oct 18, 2024 1:33:46 GMT -5
DISCLAIMER: IN THIS PRODUCTION ERIK DISCUSSES SUICIDAL IDEATION. READ WITH CAUTION.
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PLEASE STAND BY
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PLEASE STAND BY
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We find ourselves at the start of this scene looking at a casket. It's a wooden one, standing up and not laying flat ready to, er...receive somebody. Erik Holland is on the other side of the room, glaring at the casket, hands in his pockets.
You're enjoying this, right?
No answer from the casket. Holland scoffs.
First time I've ever been in a match like this. I've been in thousands of matches in hundreds of countries and never in my lifetime, a casket match. Never associated caskets with wrestling, with the one thing in my life that I loved that ever loved me back, because caskets like you signify the end.
Holland reproachfully points at the casket, sitting there woodenly, without a response, allowing Holland to continue on. We're looking at a side shot of them both, with a wall clock betwixt them on the northern wall, set up like it's right out of a Wes Anderson movie.
Caskets like you represent the path that I didn't take. The path that would have lead me to all the many many ways to numb my pain. To ignore it. Ignore it so hard that I end up making friends with my prescription drug cabinet and sit my big ass inside YOU. and YOU...are probably pissed I didn't take that path. So now you're not the end to me, and maybe you never were. Because man, as bad as I wanted to kill myself--bad as I wanna kill myself still--NOW you represent the death of the ego, NOT the death of the body.
Holland shakes his head as he dismissively addresses this wooden prison who still, maddeningly, says nothing to him. This is hardly pleasing to Erik, who annoyedly begins pacing back and forth on his 'side' of the room. The ticking of the wall clock interspersed with his boots hitting the tile floor.
And my ego? Had to die. HAD TO for me to come back. The only part of me that belongs in that coffin now because I got something to fight for is the belief i subscribed to for too damn long that I wasn't good enough--that I wasnt worthy of anything but being on the other side of your door. So why don't you do me a favor instead'a sitting there like a mute asshole--
Holland BARKS angrily at the coffin, surprisingly causing it to swing open with a creak. There's nothing in there of course, but that isn't stopping Erik Holland.
You go and you go bother Morbid Wolf with your bullshit. Mister Stoic, Mister Quiet and Calculating. My man Morbid is probably somewhere out there, smoldering and calculating about how to prepare for a match like this, and I wanna go ahead and clue him in - Go ahead and do what I'm doing. Don't plan. Don't strategize. Especially don't smolder--
Erik shivers.
Because all I'm going to do is go out there and fight. Listen to the crowd and fight. Ball my fists up, get off my knees when sometimes all I wanna do is stay there for the rest of my life--and just fight. Forget thinking and start doing, so that I can get Morbid Wolf intimately acquainted with your smart-mouth ass and I can move on to the Fight4 Championship. Because right now? I ain't even close to dead, and it's the first time in my life I can say that and I can mean it.
Erik spins on his heel and storms out of the room he and the coffin have been 'arguing' in, slamming the door shut.
You're enjoying this, right?
No answer from the casket. Holland scoffs.
First time I've ever been in a match like this. I've been in thousands of matches in hundreds of countries and never in my lifetime, a casket match. Never associated caskets with wrestling, with the one thing in my life that I loved that ever loved me back, because caskets like you signify the end.
Holland reproachfully points at the casket, sitting there woodenly, without a response, allowing Holland to continue on. We're looking at a side shot of them both, with a wall clock betwixt them on the northern wall, set up like it's right out of a Wes Anderson movie.
Caskets like you represent the path that I didn't take. The path that would have lead me to all the many many ways to numb my pain. To ignore it. Ignore it so hard that I end up making friends with my prescription drug cabinet and sit my big ass inside YOU. and YOU...are probably pissed I didn't take that path. So now you're not the end to me, and maybe you never were. Because man, as bad as I wanted to kill myself--bad as I wanna kill myself still--NOW you represent the death of the ego, NOT the death of the body.
Holland shakes his head as he dismissively addresses this wooden prison who still, maddeningly, says nothing to him. This is hardly pleasing to Erik, who annoyedly begins pacing back and forth on his 'side' of the room. The ticking of the wall clock interspersed with his boots hitting the tile floor.
And my ego? Had to die. HAD TO for me to come back. The only part of me that belongs in that coffin now because I got something to fight for is the belief i subscribed to for too damn long that I wasn't good enough--that I wasnt worthy of anything but being on the other side of your door. So why don't you do me a favor instead'a sitting there like a mute asshole--
Holland BARKS angrily at the coffin, surprisingly causing it to swing open with a creak. There's nothing in there of course, but that isn't stopping Erik Holland.
You go and you go bother Morbid Wolf with your bullshit. Mister Stoic, Mister Quiet and Calculating. My man Morbid is probably somewhere out there, smoldering and calculating about how to prepare for a match like this, and I wanna go ahead and clue him in - Go ahead and do what I'm doing. Don't plan. Don't strategize. Especially don't smolder--
Erik shivers.
Because all I'm going to do is go out there and fight. Listen to the crowd and fight. Ball my fists up, get off my knees when sometimes all I wanna do is stay there for the rest of my life--and just fight. Forget thinking and start doing, so that I can get Morbid Wolf intimately acquainted with your smart-mouth ass and I can move on to the Fight4 Championship. Because right now? I ain't even close to dead, and it's the first time in my life I can say that and I can mean it.
Erik spins on his heel and storms out of the room he and the coffin have been 'arguing' in, slamming the door shut.