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Eerie and Uncanny: Chapter One
Topic Started: Jul 3 2007, 04:25 PM (42 Views)
Sean Madrox
Unregistered

The ticking of the stationary clock can be heard above the doorway of Sean’s locker room rather annoying, but the countdown is on. Nothing can be down to prevent what is actually going to happen in a mere matter of hours. The federation of FIW as we know it will change dramatically, just to put in a simpler terms so to say.

The door opens and in enters Sean Madrox with a cell phone attached to his right ear; he finishes his conversation before slamming shut the flip phone. He begins to pace around the room and the only ounce of noise is the ticking and Sean turns from the opposite direction every fourteen ticks as if that number seems to be significant, but who is that to say. He scratches the back of his head with both hands as he drags them on to his forehead and he stops looking up at the ceiling, clearly the noise is beginning to irritate him.

He tilts his head to the right looking up at the clock following the second hand as it makes it away around the circle, continuing with the eerie sound. His eyebrows lower disappearing behind his aviators, meaning that he has had enough of it. In a split second he jumps and slams his fist dead in the center of the clock freezing it in time, no more eerie sound. He is relieved, but the uncanny thing is that it stopped at fourteen hundred hours with fourteen minutes and fourteen seconds, go figure.


Sean: “Who would have thought…”

Sean bites his bottom lip as he rubs his knuckles on his right hand which just cracked the plexiglas of the clock.

Sean: “Why bother complaining about the Fighting Spirit Championship, what a piece of worthless belt here in the FIW…who is to say that I need restriction on my move set.”

Sean raises his aviators and places one arm inside his black muscle shirt.

Sean: “This week I have a lift-time opportunity to walk into the ring against fourteen other wrestlers and walk right back out with the chance to go for the Dual Crown Championship. The odds of that seem far better than having scrap metal around my waist.”

He looks over to a bare wall with a picture of himself with the Fighting Spirit Championship wrapped around his waist.

Sean: “I get to step in the ring with half of the FIW locker room and I will walk out with a shot for the Dual Crown because I am Mr. Phenomenal.”

Sean smirks at the sound of his own name as he show pleasures of knowing he will be winning.

Sean: “After looking at the list of opponents I couldn’t help myself but realize how many I have faced and while others have yet to cross my path. Especially the vibrant Jaime Lee, who couldn’t help, but notice such a cute face. Well this spunky little Diva seems to have all the sass in the world, but little does she know what she is actually getting herself into. She thinks that life is just a box of chocolate and she is here to save us from all of the coconut filled treats.”

Sean chuckles a bit trying to mask the fact that he is trying his hardest to keep everything so damn sugar-coated.

Sean: “She can concentrate on her precision of kicks, but that will not warrant her the win when we cross paths on this coming ReVolt. The punching bag is rather in comparison to our senior wrestler Ragin’, but I wont get into him until later. much later actually. She can be related April Lynn with her undeniable record history for crap no one cares about and that still will not merit anything for her because what it comes down to is that she will meet me in the ring and I will be the one standing over her body, and I will grab her by the neck and simply dispose of her like a used condom.”

The devilish smirk crosses his face, the emptiness seeping out of his black eyes.

Sean: “Jaime Lee will die that very night because as much as perky as she is, it will not help her out when she is facing the greatest athlete in the FIW. I only can assure you that Jaime will survive, but her soul with be battered and bruised.”

Sean blinks his eyes and looks away.

Sean: “The thought now brings me too another female fatale better known as La Lesbiana Fantastica, the name alone speaks volume doesn’t it? Hiding behind a mask is the story of her life bluntly, but what can say especially about someone who always has their guard up at every dawning hour of the day. I have yet to see her in person, but her name tails off of the walls of the locker room as a myth, better yet a legend from the indies. I think otherwise because image is a key-factor in this business and she simply hides her from everyone.”

Sean shrugs his shoulders not knowing what else there is to say about the fame-fatale.

Sean: “I was able to do my homework and watched a series of her oldie matches and noticed her style to be that of a luchador, but wouldn’t that be oblivious since she wears a similar mask of the Mexican lucha-libre. I’m in a way excited, well not really, I can’t bother to lie that I actually want to face someone who doesn’t have the decency to show their face.”

Sean simply shakes his head.

Sean: “But what could you expect from a Diva with a name like hers? She seems more interested in locking up with Jaime Lee in between the sheets if you ask me. I find the irony in that I have to face this lipstick lesbian, what you can do when the booking staff at FIW brain is the size of a peanut. Guess I’ll bring a strap-on and throw it over the ropes and like a dog I bet that La Lesbiana Fantastica will follow it.”

Sean begins to rummage in his rocker-styled black jeans and he pulls out his best friend a pack of Marlboro reds. He flips the top and brings the box to his mouth and he uses his teeth to pull out a cigarette.

Sean: “Lastly I guess I should talk about Odin, the newest, dirtiest, blondish rocker that I have seen in a long while. This guy comes out of the trailer park homes of Wisconsin and already has his shot towards the Dual Crown Championship. Yet again I reiterate that FIW has the fucking worse booking in the industry, but who am I to argue.”

He now pulls out his Zippo from his back pocket and lights his cigarette inhaling the black smoke into his lungs, pure cancer streaming just the way he likes it.

Sean: “The one-eyed freak thinks that he is actually going to easily win this match and I yet can’t help, but laugh on the inside. He ponders that my ego is my weakest point, but I beg to differ because if it wasn’t for my ego then I wouldn’t have had the colorful past. He can sum me up in a matter of words, but what does that tell me about him? It tells me that he can care less that he doesn’t want to get to know his opponents like he should.”

The smoke parts Sean’s nose as he brings the cigarette once again to his lips presenting his black nail-polished fingernails.

Sean: “The narrow-mind guitarist would go as far to comment people on the way they dress, yet he still stuck in the battered eighties. Maybe he doesn’t have anything to prove like the rest of us, but I know for sure that I will be going out there to show him and everyone else that I’m going to prove them that I am Mr. Phenomenal.”

Sean runs his hands through his hair and places his aviators back on.
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