Post by FUZ on Feb 2, 2022 7:41:03 GMT
Black. Ambiguous darkness. You know the kind, right? The urge to shit yourself, to be scared beyond belief, fear beyond rectal extremity. The scene, naturally, fades in and opens up to an undisclosed location. There are luminous undertones, dense, nonsensical overtones. Whatever. All the makings of a bad night, of a bad movie, of a bad promo. But then there is THE KING. No smoke, no fuckin' mirrors. Jus' the toughest son-of-a-bitch to come out of Yonkers. The mother-fucker sittin' on his front door steps lookin' like Taz with a black towel on his head. As Eddie Kingston slowly enters the frame, the cameraman steadies his shot while Kingston produces a rope tied carefully in a perfect noose. Hate hangs in the Mad King's eyes.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Are you familiar with the number THIRTEEN? Did'ja know that some people say it's unlucky?
Eddie holds up a piece of rope, tied in a traditional hangman's knot. "Some," a careful word choice by King. "Some" means not me, not THE KING, not the mother-fucker named Eddie Kingston. "Some" is defined by the rest of the dopes in the world. The phonies. The plastic bastards in Target suits. Finger-banging old balls at bowling alleys. The type of people who shit with the door open because everyone hates them anyway. "Some," for Eddie Kingston, means fuck you.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: It takes thirteen turns to make a traditional hangman's noose. Know why?
Eddie puts the noose around his own throat. The rope dangles. The King, the historian. The King, the boy scout. The Mad King is the reason some parents don't have kids.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Because anything less wouldn't snap a'neck. IT WOULDN'T BREAK 'DARE BONES!
During the Elizabeth era the hangman's noose was known as a collar. The knot is most popularly used when hanging a person.
So, tell me this... why has the King brought a noose to an interview?
Somewhere an old woman deadbolts her door, a child hides their scared little shit in a toy box while their mother sleeps in the next room.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Have you eva hung someone? Do you even know how? Lemme 'xplain: the knot of the rope is placed just behind the left ear. When the poor bastard runs outta rope, the force breaks their fuckin' neck. It's an impressive knot, a downright terrifying knot. Each coil adds friction, making the noose harder to pull closed. The hangman's knot wasn't designed to fuck around... it was designed to snap a person's neck. A quick, painless death.
The King speaks with vigor, the drunken clarity of a madman.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Ya know, I grew up in a home jus' like everybody else... only my house wasn't in some suburban neighborhood, it wasn't somewhere SAFE. It was in Yonkers, New York, one of the toughest places in the world. The kinda place where you learn to fight before you learn to crawl. But, not everybody is born with it. No, this shit isn't some innate, God-given ability. Nah, that's bullshit. You've got to work to stay alive. You have to FIGHT to stay alive. I wasn't born a bastard, I was born a brawler... and that's all I will EVA BE.
Ignoring the rope around his neck, Kingston laments.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Am I worried? Am I scared? Ask yourself this, when the fuck is The King eva scared? It's one day before the ring turns RED. It's ONE day before WEDNESDAY, it's one day before THE KING gets his hands on Bray Wyatt. And I'm tellin' ya, I'M READY. Were you not listening to me when I said I was born ready? Brass knuckles draped around my tiny dick, I learned to fight before I learned to suck a tit. I am a mother-fucker, I will fuck your mother... I am THE KING, the MAD FUCKIN' KING, EDDIE KINGSTON. I am THE EAT SHIT OR BEAT SHIT MACHINE. I am THE KING. The MAD FUCKIN’ KING. Where I come from people fear me. NAH, NAH… WAIT… where I come from… people shit themselves when I walk by. Wherever I go, whateva I do… people fear OR FUCK 'DEM SELVES TRYIN' TO FIGHT ME. WEDNESDAY NIGHT… THE FACE OF FEAR, BRAY WYATT… WHATEVA. Bray will FEAR ME. You know, 'dey say you can't beat someone who is already broken. Well, if you listen to fans, they say I have no hope. They say I was born with a black eye and a chip on my shoulder. They say I will neva be a champion.
Kingston's eyes widened. Eddie's eyes say "I ate a giant bowl of bat-shit-crazy for breakfast, then said fuck lunch and dinner." His eyes say "DON'T FEAR GOD, FEAR THE KING. THE MAD FUCKIN’ KING, EDDIE KINGSTON."
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Look into my eyes. I don't believe in a pleasant way to leave this earth. I didn't learn and perfect how to apply the bulldog choke submission hold to simply put someone's lights out. I perfected the move so I can put each and every son-of-a-bitch I get ahold of jus' a little bit closer to death. Jus' a little bit closer to meeting their maker. Jus' a little bit closer to gettin' bumfucked by the afterlife. You wanna know the truth? I don't fear Wyatt, I think he's cute. Fuckin' adorable. But I'd like to state my intentions clearly... if I can't slam Wyatt, if I can't suplex Wyatt, IF I can’t CHOKE HIM OUT... What will I do instead? I will break his fuckin' nose. He'll blow snot crooked for the rest of his life. I don't care about the main event, I don't give a shit about championships... I don't need a title to know I am dangerous. Last night I had sex with a white woman. This mornin' I woke up pissin' apple juice. Proof that you jus' neva know. Proof that no matter how stable you think I am... I am the craziest asshole on the planet. And you don't need to get me or dig me or like the sight of me... to fear me... to FIGHT ME.
Eddie yanks the towel off of his head and scratches his forehead.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Jus’ sit back and listen, 'cause you can almost hear the front row of the sold out crowd screamin', “THE KING IS GUNNA KILL YOU!”
BOOM! AND JUS' LIKE THAT... YOU'RE ALREADY DEAD.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Are you familiar with the number THIRTEEN? Did'ja know that some people say it's unlucky?
Eddie holds up a piece of rope, tied in a traditional hangman's knot. "Some," a careful word choice by King. "Some" means not me, not THE KING, not the mother-fucker named Eddie Kingston. "Some" is defined by the rest of the dopes in the world. The phonies. The plastic bastards in Target suits. Finger-banging old balls at bowling alleys. The type of people who shit with the door open because everyone hates them anyway. "Some," for Eddie Kingston, means fuck you.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: It takes thirteen turns to make a traditional hangman's noose. Know why?
Eddie puts the noose around his own throat. The rope dangles. The King, the historian. The King, the boy scout. The Mad King is the reason some parents don't have kids.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Because anything less wouldn't snap a'neck. IT WOULDN'T BREAK 'DARE BONES!
During the Elizabeth era the hangman's noose was known as a collar. The knot is most popularly used when hanging a person.
So, tell me this... why has the King brought a noose to an interview?
Somewhere an old woman deadbolts her door, a child hides their scared little shit in a toy box while their mother sleeps in the next room.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Have you eva hung someone? Do you even know how? Lemme 'xplain: the knot of the rope is placed just behind the left ear. When the poor bastard runs outta rope, the force breaks their fuckin' neck. It's an impressive knot, a downright terrifying knot. Each coil adds friction, making the noose harder to pull closed. The hangman's knot wasn't designed to fuck around... it was designed to snap a person's neck. A quick, painless death.
The King speaks with vigor, the drunken clarity of a madman.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Ya know, I grew up in a home jus' like everybody else... only my house wasn't in some suburban neighborhood, it wasn't somewhere SAFE. It was in Yonkers, New York, one of the toughest places in the world. The kinda place where you learn to fight before you learn to crawl. But, not everybody is born with it. No, this shit isn't some innate, God-given ability. Nah, that's bullshit. You've got to work to stay alive. You have to FIGHT to stay alive. I wasn't born a bastard, I was born a brawler... and that's all I will EVA BE.
Ignoring the rope around his neck, Kingston laments.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Am I worried? Am I scared? Ask yourself this, when the fuck is The King eva scared? It's one day before the ring turns RED. It's ONE day before WEDNESDAY, it's one day before THE KING gets his hands on Bray Wyatt. And I'm tellin' ya, I'M READY. Were you not listening to me when I said I was born ready? Brass knuckles draped around my tiny dick, I learned to fight before I learned to suck a tit. I am a mother-fucker, I will fuck your mother... I am THE KING, the MAD FUCKIN' KING, EDDIE KINGSTON. I am THE EAT SHIT OR BEAT SHIT MACHINE. I am THE KING. The MAD FUCKIN’ KING. Where I come from people fear me. NAH, NAH… WAIT… where I come from… people shit themselves when I walk by. Wherever I go, whateva I do… people fear OR FUCK 'DEM SELVES TRYIN' TO FIGHT ME. WEDNESDAY NIGHT… THE FACE OF FEAR, BRAY WYATT… WHATEVA. Bray will FEAR ME. You know, 'dey say you can't beat someone who is already broken. Well, if you listen to fans, they say I have no hope. They say I was born with a black eye and a chip on my shoulder. They say I will neva be a champion.
Kingston's eyes widened. Eddie's eyes say "I ate a giant bowl of bat-shit-crazy for breakfast, then said fuck lunch and dinner." His eyes say "DON'T FEAR GOD, FEAR THE KING. THE MAD FUCKIN’ KING, EDDIE KINGSTON."
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Look into my eyes. I don't believe in a pleasant way to leave this earth. I didn't learn and perfect how to apply the bulldog choke submission hold to simply put someone's lights out. I perfected the move so I can put each and every son-of-a-bitch I get ahold of jus' a little bit closer to death. Jus' a little bit closer to meeting their maker. Jus' a little bit closer to gettin' bumfucked by the afterlife. You wanna know the truth? I don't fear Wyatt, I think he's cute. Fuckin' adorable. But I'd like to state my intentions clearly... if I can't slam Wyatt, if I can't suplex Wyatt, IF I can’t CHOKE HIM OUT... What will I do instead? I will break his fuckin' nose. He'll blow snot crooked for the rest of his life. I don't care about the main event, I don't give a shit about championships... I don't need a title to know I am dangerous. Last night I had sex with a white woman. This mornin' I woke up pissin' apple juice. Proof that you jus' neva know. Proof that no matter how stable you think I am... I am the craziest asshole on the planet. And you don't need to get me or dig me or like the sight of me... to fear me... to FIGHT ME.
Eddie yanks the towel off of his head and scratches his forehead.
"tHe MaD kInG" EDDIE KINGSTON: Jus’ sit back and listen, 'cause you can almost hear the front row of the sold out crowd screamin', “THE KING IS GUNNA KILL YOU!”
BOOM! AND JUS' LIKE THAT... YOU'RE ALREADY DEAD.