Xtron Flickers On!
The Camera pans to the announce team!
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Well that was unerving! |
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Yea! |
As abruptly as it shut off earlier, the OCW Tron jumps back to the OCWFED website; twice in one night, some unwanted record I'm sure. Scrolling back to that now widely-familiar SuzieShortCake Youtube channel we find a third video posted not long after the second. When the video starts up we are located in what appears to be a generic therapist's office. Our view is that of a camera resting atop a side table or desk, spectating and recording a session for documentation purposes.
Sitting in the middle of one of those funky, elongated, therapy couches rests Cody Storm.
???: So Cody, we haven't been having a whole lot of success with some of our early attempts to kick this thing. Simulating trigger settings has proven difficult. This is likely the result of the absence of a large, live crowd; it's a pressure situation, especially when ego's and pride are involved, not exactly easy to replicate. So I think we're going to have to try another method. Have you ever tried hypnosis?
Cody Storm: Listen, Dr. Frankensteen..... again, you don't find something kind of eerie about that name and your profession?
The good doctor only rolls her eyes, so Cody goes on.
Cody Storm: Listen Dr. Frankensteen, you can try whatever methods you'd like, just fix me!
Dr. Frankensteen: Good, that's what I was hoping to hear from you. Before we proceed I have to let you know that what we're about to try is a little controversial in this profession. Some believe hypnosis to be a tool that allows for a type of controlled contact with the subconscious, some believe it simply alters the subconscious for the time of the treatment using suggestive directions. Our goal in employing hypnosis, however, is to try and establish some kind of contact with this other side of you. Perhaps through communication the two halves can become whole again.
Cody Storm: This isn't a fifty-fifty, cohabitation, kind of agreement. This is a one way street. If we talk to this.... this thing, the only message it's getting from me is: Get the hell out!
Dr. Frankensteen: Yes, I suppose his-
Cody Storm: Its.
Dr. Frankensteen: It's first impression was not one lending itself to friendship or cooperation.
Cody Storm: Lets just get started....
Dr. Frankensteen: Certainly, but first I must warn you that some believe this process exacerbates the problem. In my limited experience with such treatment, it has either helped or had no noticeable effects.
Cody Storm: That's fine, lets just speed this up.
Dr. Frankensteen: Very well. Lay back please. Close your eyes, and listen to the soothing metronome.
The Doctor rises from her chair and makes her way towards her desk toggling on an auto-metronome machine as Cody lies back and closes his eyes.
Dr. Frankensteen: I'm going to count backwards, slowly, from ten and when I get to one I want to see this other side of you emerge.
Cody Storm starts mumbling under his breath: If you say so....
Dr. Frankensteen: 10.......9......8......7.....6.....5.....
Cody's face starts to slack, relaxation taking over, but no real abnormal change seems to be taking place.
Dr. Frankensteen: 4.....3.....2.....1..... Cody..... Cody can you hear me?
Cody Storm: Yeah doc?
The doctor seems a little deflated.
Dr. Frankensteen: So it didn't work....?
Cody sits backup, his eyes still shut. He goes to grab a glass of water from the table, slowly opening his eyes as he drinks. He drains the whole thing, gulping it down as if he hasn't had a sip in days.
Cody Storm: Well, at least we can say we gave it our best shot....
Cody trails off, placing the glass back down on the table as he begins glancing around the room, presumably avoiding eye contact with Frankensteen so as to put off dealing with their shared disappointment. His eyes catch something in the far left corner, out of view of our camera, and he moves to get closer to it.
Cody Storm: What's this doctor? It looks interesting.
Dr. Frankensteen: That's an article from a former patient. We were able to cure him using similar experimental treatments. Before he was cured, however, he said that he found that in his closet. He had no recollection as to where it had come from, but was quite certain it belonged to his other side. He left it to me after our treatments stopped.
Dr. Frankensteen: I was once able to speak to his other side. I asked him about it, he explained that he regarded it as some sort of physical barrier between the two sides. A way to differentiate between the lives that the two lived.
Cody Storm: And did he explain to you why he would want to do this?
Dr. Frankensteen: He did actually, he explained it as an act of compassion. He didn't want to confuse people or have the patient's loved ones believing it was him doing anything. He wanted to have romantic relationships without the patients girlfriend claiming it was cheating, and things like that.
Cody Storm: And you diagnosed this as disassociative identity disorder?
Dr. Frankensteen: Of course I did. They were clearly two different sides, the poor man was plagued.
Cody Storm: He was plagued with lust, but you were plagued with stupidity if you saw this as other than some imaginative ruse designed to get away with sleeping with multiple women without repercussions.
The Doctor gasps, taken aback by Storm's verbal jab.
Cody Storm: But it seems as though the plague may have given you a momentary reprieve. You may actually be on to something here.....
Cody turns back around now wearing a mask that has become synonymous with The Monster.
Dr. Frankensteen: You.... you can't wear th......
Before the good doctor can finish her sentence The Monster has his hand wrapped around her throat. The two stand in place like this for a moment as The Monster has her held hostage.
The Monster: What's wrong doctor? You seemed so very interested in meeting me only a couple of minutes ago?
The Doctor starts choking and sputtering, fighting to make use of whatever oxygen may still be left in her contracting lungs.
The Monster: Awwwww, what's the matter doctor? Does the human B-side have your tongue?
That grin makes what may have actually been its first appearance across the face of The Monster as he lifts The Doctor up into the air before bringing her careening down on her desk.
She lays motionless, draped across it. As The Monster makes his way to the office door and to the building exit his words come calling back from the hallway.
The Monster: Thanks Doc, I really needed this....
The Camera pans to the announce team!
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What in the hell! |
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!!!!!!!!!! |
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Now its time for the first Main Event of the evening. It's Mugen vs Drago for the coveted OCW North American Championship. |
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A Championship Drago never lost, against The Lariat Boss of OCW! |
OCW North American Championship
Drago vs Mugen (C)
The Camera pans to the announce team!
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Holy! Moley! |
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What a match! |
Jackson Montgomery was exhausted. Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, his ribs were sore, and legs screamed in protest of movement. And the anger was washing over him, making it worse. He couldn't ignore the pain. He had come so close only to fall short. He barely noticed that he was already at his locker room door.
Opening the door he took in a deep breath to calm himself. B-17 was seated at the card table with feet up, slowly drinking a cold one with a sad look on his face. B-17 stood when Jackson entered.
They looked at each other without talking, when Jackson was close enough, B-17 extended his hand which held a Coors.
B-17: Beer?
Montgomery placed the beer on the table. He slowly lowered himself into his seat before opening it.
B-17: You seem calm.
Montgomery: You win, and you lose. I’m not sweating it.
B-17: I see. B-17 looked at him suspiciously before picking up the deck of cards and starting to shuffle. He began to deal after cutting a few times, obviously concerned of Montgomery’s behavior: How about holdem? 10/20 blinds? Since there is no pay raise coming.
B-17 watched as Montgomery knuckles turned white gripping his beer: To winning and losing some, bud. B-17 lifted his beer in a toast.
Montgomery: How comforting. He raised his beer and took a drink, but almost spilled it as his anger was becoming more pronounced. Now let me see up your sleeves you cheating bastard.
B-17: Nothing. I’ve got nothing. He showed up his sleeves.
Montgomery picked up the deck and looked at the bottom. He turned it to show B-17 the Ace of Spades at the bottom.
Without warning Montgomery flipped over the table. He threw his beer bottle at the lockers and it shattered on impact. Taking his chair he began to beat it against the television monitor in the corner.
Over and over and over again he struck it until the chair resembled the twisted remnants of the last chair Aries had sat on.
Throwing it aside he tore out a wooden rod from one of the lockers. Crossing the room in a few rapid steps he smashed a window in one blow.
B-17 had remained calmly seated the entire time. Slowly sipping from his beer. Montgomery jumped towards him and grabbed the beer from his hands.
He too threw this against the wall and then continued to destroy the room.
B-17: That’s better.
The Camera pans to the announce team!
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Now thats functioning, dysfunctional! |
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That's what friends are for, b! |