Promo

[Guest]

-Jay- “Did you see that?”

 

-Chris- “See what?”

 

-Jay- “Up there, in the rafters… there’s something moving… making some noise.”

 

-Chris- “Is it moving, or making noise?”

 

-Jay- “I don’t know.  It looked like something was moving up there.  And I thought I heard a noise.”

 

-Chris- “What kind of noise?”

 

-Jay- “I can’t say, but it was something.”

 

-Chris- “Probably one of those stupid pigeons again, they’re always coming in here.  It’ll escape on its own, but do me a favor.  Go up there and make sure there’s no nest.  We’ll never get rid of the bird crap if they decide to settle down.  And the SJL runs a tight show.  If bird poop falls during Metal, the owner will never forgive us.”

 

-Jay- “Go… up there?  How?”

 

-Chris- “Sprinkle on some fairy dust and think happy thoughts… how do you think?!  Take the maintenance stairs.  You know how to get to the catwalk, don’t you?”

 

-Jay- “Sure boss…”

 

-Chris- “Jay.”

 

-Jay- “Yeah?”

 

-Chris- “Now!”

 

-Jay- “Oh… right Chris, sure thing.”

 

Now Jay, who has just started working for the Melon Arena’s crew, is on his way to a hundred bajillion feet up in the air.  And the bad thing is, poor guy has a fear of heights.  If only he hadn’t opened his big mouth, maybe someone else would have noticed the pigeon and made their way up there themselves.  But no, it was his call, and now he has to pay for it.  The access staircase takes him up to the rafters, and he uses the catwalk to reach the very center and heart of the arena.  Carefully, and cautiously, he picks his way through with the aid of his flashlight.

 

-Jay- “Umm… okay.  Where are you, little chickadee.  Hope you don’t have any babies up here.”

 

“Hoooo… hooo…”

 

-Jay- “What the hell?”

 

“Hooo… hooo…”

 

I shift on the catwalk, watching his fear, and honestly enjoying it.  He sees my subtle movement.

 

-Jay- “Who’s there?”

 

He barely misses me with his beam of light, as he peers forward.

 

-Jay- “Eight bucks an hour doesn’t cover this, I’m getting out of here.”

 

He turns, and in that instant his flashlight catches a glint of yellow.

 

-Jay- “Huh?”

 

One glint becomes two.  Two become four.  Four become eight.

 

-Jay- “What is that… oh my GOD!”

 

Eyes.  Many many pairs of unblinking eyes staring back at him!

 

“Hooo…”

 

-Jay- “Help.  Somebody.  HELP!”

 

He wheels around, only to find more eyes on his other side.  One of them moves.  Another comes closer.  Jay realizes he is surrounded, and whips back down the catwalk to make a much needed escape.

 

-Jay- “Oh god, they’re everywhere… HELP!”

 

“Hooo… Hooooo…”

 

His hand smacks into a nearby beam, and down goes his flashlight, tumbling onto the floor and shattering, leaving Jay with tens of pairs of eyes, watching him in the darkness.  He backs away…

 

“Hooo… Hooo… Hooooo…”

 

-Jay- “No!  NO!”

 

And suddenly loses footing.

 

-Jay- “Oh sh-t…”

 

As his life flashes before his eyes, Jay begins to fall backwards, off of the catwalk, at the one place where there is no guardrail to hold him down.  And the worst of it is, that he came in to work for this.  He doesn’t even notice the ominous dark figure above him, or the clinking and unclinking of metallic links.  All he knows is that somehow, he is alive… and he has stopped falling.  And around his arm is wrapped a steel link chain that is now pulling him back up to the catwalk.

 

-Jay- “What the…”

 

He grabs the floor of the walk and pulls himself up, with aid from a strange pair of hands.  And I take my chain, stepping backwards, into shadow, as Jay shakes off the hysteria, and peers into the darkness to thank the person… the dark person that he cannot see.  The dark person… that is me.

 

-Jay- “Thank you… who are… what is… who are you?”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

The worker freezes.  About to ask the same question, but caution gets the best of macho bravado in this case.

 

-Jay- “I thought there were pigeons up here, and my boss wanted me to get rid of them, and then there were all of these eyes, and you came when I fell… who are you?”

 

I actually chuckle, but Jay cannot see my face.  The only thing he can really make out is the corner of a trench coat flapping in the air conditioned breeze.

 

“Those aren’t pigeons.”

 

-Jay- “They aren’t?”

 

“No. And if you try to get rid of them, they’ll tear you alive.”

 

He gulps.  I smile with satisfaction.

 

-Jay- “What are they?”

 

I don’t answer him.  Instead, I go over to the perch where Nightwatch loves to preen.  I lift him from his bar, and he hoots low into my ear.  Nodding, I speak again to the poor Arena personell.

 

“I would leave if I were you.”

 

-Jay- “But what are you doing up here, this arena is closed, we have a very important…”

 

“Leave.  You’ll understand later.”

 

-Jay- “I’m going to get security.  You can’t be up here.  Are you some kind of terrorist?”

 

“Terrorist?”

 

Now I’m pissed.

 

“Get out.”

 

-Jay- “Who are you?”

 

“Get out.  And don’t return.”

 

-Jay- “You can’t…”

 

“I didn’t let you fall.  Remember that.”

 

He stops.  I got him with that one.  Everyone has loyalty to something, be it purpose, money, or their lives.  Obviously, his is the latter.

 

-Jay- “Okay.  Alright, I’m going.”

 

He trembles as he picks his way back to the access steps and takes his way down.  And I give Nightwatch a scratch between the ears.

 

“He won’t be back.”

 

The others begin to hoot and flap silently, their way of celebration, I suppose, and I set night down and return to a high central beam to watch.  To watch them work below.  They have no idea who I am, or what I am to them, but I still watch over them all, until the time comes to act.

 

“They don’t know me… yet.”

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Impressive, Vanguard!  A little bit odd, but nice writing.

 

Though I will warn you: would-be superheroes have quite the legacy to live up to here in the SWF.  Long live Cyclone Comet...heh heh.

 

A fine debut promo, though.  Interested to see what you do when you actually get match-writing...

[Guest]

Wow...Vanguard, that is REALLY impressive. I like it a lot. I hope that your matches are as good as your promo, because if they are, you will be great. And, um, LONG LIVE CYCLONE F'N COMET! THE ORIGNIAL E-WRESTLING SUPERHERO!

[Guest chirs3]

Whoa whoa whoa whoa!

 

This was a debut promo?!

 

Nice f**king work, Vanguard!

[Guest]

Why does this board change text like it does?  I'm rereading this promo and I keep getting japanese characters.  And when I sent in my match to Crusen, all of my apostrophes and quotation marks were turned into question marks, as well as some hyphens.  What the hell?  Does anybody know how to Vindicate this?

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

I'm not really sure, Vanguard.  I never get the problem on my own computer, but I was in the library stacks last night checking some stuff, and I got the weird characters.  Some people's messages seem to turn most special characters into question marks, too.  Past theories have included that it has something to do with Netscape, but I really don't know.

 

MONSTERS IN THE MACHIIIIINE!

[Guest ErekT2k]

Uh, Superhero dudey, I think I heard somewhere down the line that if you use Netscape to send matches or post stuff, there's a compute error that will put random question marks or something.

 

I'm not sure. I use IE.....

[Guest chirs3]

I use Internet Explorer and I have no problems... maybe that's it...

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

Woah man.

 

That was like...deep.

 

No seriously though, that's one badass promo