Promo: Mind Of The Machines

[janusd 0]

By now the setting has become a familiar sight. As he parks his car outside the large building, Terrence Bailey sits at the driver's seat for a long moment, staring at nothing in particular. He knows he's been here before as him, and that as well as the memory of three months in a psychiatric hospital are fresh in his mind. Slowly, he climbs out of the car and locks the doors, green eyes focused dead ahead as he strides through the automatic doors.

 

His boots echo loudly on the white-tiled floor, as the atmosphere inside is peacefully quiet. Trenchcoat fluttering behind him, the seven footer stops at the receptionist desk and clears his throat politely. The receptionist looks up at him, and not a word is spoken. She knows him as well as he knows the building itself.

 

"Dr. Frood is waiting for you in the third office down the hall, Mr. Bailey."

 

"Thank you."

 

Striding from the lobby, the echoing footfalls of boot-on-tile become a more hushed boot-on-carpet as the man known as the Anti-Heel Machine heads down the hallway. Reaching the third door in a few long strides, he does not even bother knocking as he swings it open and steps inside. Inside, the thin and tweed-suited figure of Doctor Frood sits at his desk, and he makes a single motion with his hand. The Anti-Heel Machine takes a seat across from his psychiatrist, brushing his black-and-white hair from his face.

 

"Good afternoon, Doctor."

 

Frood makes a note on a sheet of paper and looks up, eyes narrowed yet calmly relaxed behind his glasses.

 

"By your tone of voice, I'm talking to Terrence, am I not?"

 

"You are, Doctor."

 

"I thought I asked that you undertake no violent activities when you left my care at the hospital, Mr. Bailey."

 

"I know. But..." the big man trails off and contemplates. "Wrestling is in my blood, I guess."

 

"Ah, by your choice of words, you do not understand why you returned, am I right?"

 

"I returned because I enjoyed it, Doctor. I had friends there, and I enjoyed going out and entertaining the fans."

 

Doctor Frood scribbles some more notes down on the sheet in front of him, then eyes it thoughtfully. Scratching out something he'd already written, he puts his pen down and folds his fingers together, steepling them before himself. Across from him, Terrence waits patiently, his bulk relaxed and calm, as unintimidating as possible.

 

"You're sure your return was not precipitated by the desire to cause violence, Mr Bailey?"

 

"I was in remission, so to speak, Doctor. Janus was no longer a dominant personality."

 

"He seems to think differently, from what I have seen on your show. What prompted his re-emergence, Mr. Bailey?"

 

Terrence frowns, contemplating his best answer. Again grooming his hair out of his face with large hands, the Anti-Heel Machine folds his hands in his lap. He takes a deep breath, then lifts his eyes to meet those of the small doctor.

 

"How about you ask him yourself, Doctor Frood?"

 

Before the Doctor can respond, Terrence closes his eyes. His jaw twitches slightly, and he seems to undergo a change. His body gets a little tenser, and his lips curl into a slight smirk. The relaxed, untimidating aura vanishes, and when he opens his eyes again, they're icy cold. Unperturbed, Doctor Frood checks his sheet again.

 

"Well, Janus?"

 

"Anger and frustration at various things, my dear Doctor. Danny Williams losing the title and disappearing. His loss at the SWF Clusterfuck. The loss of his precious Hardcore Gamers Championship belt. He was less than happy..."

 

"And you, Janus, the person steeped in blood and hatred, the person created by someone else, came to the fore once more."

 

"Well, aren't you bright, Doctor."

 

"Your sarcasm is unappreciated, Janus..."

 

"So are you, Doctor Frood."

 

That comeback gives the Doctor pause, and a flicker of real fear comes into his eyes. Janus leans forward, resting his hands on the edge of Frood's table. That smirk on his face widens a little, and he continues speaking.

 

"You and Terrence sought to eliminate me, like I was a disease or something that could be confined, be controlled. Like it or not, Doctor Frood, the process that made me what I am is not reversible, and I am as much a person as our dear little Terrence."

 

"Your...point...Janus?" Frood stammers.

 

"Perhaps rather than all this pathetic, incessant discussion you so enjoy, you could do something better."

 

"Have you two...ever considered...a truce? A mutual goal, something to stop you fighting against each other?"

 

Janus cocks his head with an almost appreciative chuckle at the Doctor's sudden flash of inspiration.

 

"It crossed our minds, but opposing personalities do not good negotiators make..."

 

Frood nods his head, the spark of interest lighting in his eyes once more.

 

"Maybe I can help with that..."

 

Some Hours Later...

 

The receptionist did not look up at the sound of doors opening and closing. She did not watch the trenchcoated figure of the Anti-Heel Machine walk at a quick trot towards the exit. Nor does she watch the second figure following close behind, equally tall, and in black attire. As Terrence steps out into the daylight, blinking his green eyes, a hand lands on his shoulder. Instinctively, the big man turns around. In a face of loosely ponytailed black hair, the dead white eyes of the Black Angel stare back at him.

 

".....Aecas?" the Anti-Heel Machine queries after a pause. The seven footer snorts and smiles coolly.

 

"Gabriel. I'll be seeing you soon, Janus..."

 

Sweeping past the surprised Australian, the seven foot figure of the Black Angel straddles his motorcycle. A loud roar fills the air, and then the hefty bike roars off into the distance. The green-eyed Terrence Bailey stares after it for a moment, the words coming off his lips to no one in particular.

 

"....Terrence, not Janus..."

 

~Liar.~

 

"Just because Frood has us co-existing doesn't mean we have to like each other, you know..."

 

~Tell me about it...~

 

The Anti-Heel Machine frowns, and the frown stays on his face even as he climbs into his car and starts the engine, driving away from the psychiatric institute. On one side, there was Terrence Bailey, the nice, green-eyed, friendly Australian. On the other side was Janus, the darker, red-eyed, hellish psychopath. Watching the car pull away from one of his windows, Dr. Frood watches with a slight frown of his own. He turns away and picks up the phone, pressing one of the buttons to contact his receptionist.

 

"Sasha, my dear, check Mr. Bailey's file and get me the number for Mark Stevens, if you please..."

[Guest Aecas]

And thus the plot thickens...

[Toxxic 0]

For all the fact that there is NO WAY someone with MPD would be allowed out in the community, let alone wrestle - this entire angle is fucking awesome and brilliantly written.

[Guest Suicide King]

Yes, but there is a long and proud tradition of utterly insane wrestlers who were portrayed as possessing real disorders.

[the.weej 0]

Don't do that logic thing, man. If anyone ever decides to tell you about SWF history like the Clan, you might... well, no, you will explode.

 

Eh... wait a second... think I got a message coming in over the ol' skull radio. Ah yeah. Nice promo, Janus.

 

-Z

[Crowe 0]

...

 

Aecas should really beat Janus up.

[Thoth 0]

Yeah, Toxxic. The Clan, which I was a part of, then later led, did pretty much every strange thing ever. We were going to do a thing where John Kruger thought he had cancer in one arm, and could only wrestle with one arm, but it turns out he had a new version of the skull radio that let us beam suggestions to him like pain and disease. Not to mention doctors and surgeons paid by the Clan.

 

Dude, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

[Toxxic 0]

That's truly bizarre.

[Guest Suicide King]

Boy... when I think of how much crap we threw out there because it seemed like a good idea. And I do include myself in that "we."

[the.weej 0]

But nothing (absolutely nothing) tops anything Mayor McCheese did.

 

-Z

Edited February 15, 2004 by realitycheck

[Thoth 0]

But nothing (absolutely nothing) tops anything Mayor McCheese did.

 

-Z

I challenge that notion with the concept of Ted Flink, the Five Flaming Fruits, and Ovalteen.

[Guest Suicide King]

It is true that Flink sucked ass, but on top of McCheese having an actual cheeseburger for a head, he had himself crucified and KILLED in the ring. And on free tv no less.

[Crowe 0]

That's just legendary.

[Edwin MacPhisto 0]

But he wasn't reeeeally killed. It was all a ruse, with the help of his old friend...the Exploding Chicken.

 

Who, oddly enough, was neither exploding nor a chicken.

 

I'm just glad I never decided to go through with my "Edwin wanders into the desert, gets terrifically stoned, and comes back riding a donkey and wearing a Zorro mask" idea.

[Guest Suicide King]

Chris Raynor was going to be the Pancho to your Don Quixote, was he not Edwin?