Post by Calvin Constantine on Nov 11, 2009 19:20:32 GMT -6
Rain has pounded the Jersey Turnpike all day, turning the country’s fifth busiest road jet slick. Spasming lights from four way flashers laugh a lewd dance on the asphalt, reflecting and illuminating everything from the fender benders to the full fledged wrecks.
Calvin Constantine cruises in the right lane, as oblivious and invincible as an Old West hero. He’s imbued with a mission, driven with a purpose that will carry him to his destination regardless of the chaos around him. They can not touch him.
You might say Calvin is a marionette, not a real boy, certainly not a Real Deal. You might say he moves to Philadelphia like a moth to flame, not propelled by consciousness but by instinct. You might say Calvin is returning home, returning to ICW, because he has no choice. A card has been posted. The ICW World Heavyweight Championship is up for grabs. I compete, therefore I am.
One year ago, you’d be right.
This time, however, you’re wrong.
Hours earlier, Calvin in an Atlantic City bar. No light has penetrated this tomb for eons. Old men with swollen knuckles and ravaged knees sit at the bar, sip cheap gin, grimace and shake their heads. At the gin, at the bar, at the life, who knows. Millennia of despair sticks to those bones. Drinks must be refilled by telepathy, because an ancient silence hangs over the place.
Calvin slouches in the corner, a broken man, acquainting himself with Comrade Vladimir. The 18 inch television carries a news broadcast out of Philadelphia.
Tricia Tanaka: Here comes Dangerously now! DAVE! MR DANGEROUSLY! A WORD?
Dangerously, dressed in his court best, looks increasingly agitated with each passing second.
Dave Dangerously: ...
Tricia Tanaka: Are you excited by the re-establishement of ICW?
Dave Dangerously: Of course I am. I'm the most dangerous man in wrestling, today. I'm the best there is at what I do.
The Most Dangerous Man in Wrestling (Today) continues to prattle. Calvin continues to watch, but no longer hears. A light goes on in his eyes, a light which scrubs away the filthy dark, obliterates it, tears it asunder.
Calvin looks back at the old men at the bar.
One turns to dust, simply evaporating before him.
Another withers into a dry, brown husk, smiling all the while.
The third turns to stone.
Watching Dangerously, and watching the old men dissolve, Calvin suddenly understands what he must do.
And for the first time in years, he moves into the world. The world no longer moves around him.
Calvin Constantine cruises in the right lane, as oblivious and invincible as an Old West hero. He’s imbued with a mission, driven with a purpose that will carry him to his destination regardless of the chaos around him. They can not touch him.
You might say Calvin is a marionette, not a real boy, certainly not a Real Deal. You might say he moves to Philadelphia like a moth to flame, not propelled by consciousness but by instinct. You might say Calvin is returning home, returning to ICW, because he has no choice. A card has been posted. The ICW World Heavyweight Championship is up for grabs. I compete, therefore I am.
One year ago, you’d be right.
This time, however, you’re wrong.
Hours earlier, Calvin in an Atlantic City bar. No light has penetrated this tomb for eons. Old men with swollen knuckles and ravaged knees sit at the bar, sip cheap gin, grimace and shake their heads. At the gin, at the bar, at the life, who knows. Millennia of despair sticks to those bones. Drinks must be refilled by telepathy, because an ancient silence hangs over the place.
Calvin slouches in the corner, a broken man, acquainting himself with Comrade Vladimir. The 18 inch television carries a news broadcast out of Philadelphia.
Tricia Tanaka: Here comes Dangerously now! DAVE! MR DANGEROUSLY! A WORD?
Dangerously, dressed in his court best, looks increasingly agitated with each passing second.
Dave Dangerously: ...
Tricia Tanaka: Are you excited by the re-establishement of ICW?
Dave Dangerously: Of course I am. I'm the most dangerous man in wrestling, today. I'm the best there is at what I do.
The Most Dangerous Man in Wrestling (Today) continues to prattle. Calvin continues to watch, but no longer hears. A light goes on in his eyes, a light which scrubs away the filthy dark, obliterates it, tears it asunder.
Calvin looks back at the old men at the bar.
One turns to dust, simply evaporating before him.
Another withers into a dry, brown husk, smiling all the while.
The third turns to stone.
Watching Dangerously, and watching the old men dissolve, Calvin suddenly understands what he must do.
And for the first time in years, he moves into the world. The world no longer moves around him.