Jump to content

The CornellVerse: Something Wicked This Way Comes


Recommended Posts

[font=Times New Roman]I still don’t know what happened. I swear that one moment I was at home, falling into a deep comfortable sleep, and the next I was here in this God-forsaken hospital. They said I’d been involved in a fall from a high building and that I’d been in a coma for months. They said they were sure I’d never recover, but I’d been given an experimental treatment for my severe brain injuries. They said I was lucky to be alive.[/font] [font=Times New Roman]Me? I’m not so sure. I don’t know what to believe. I have all these vivid, strong memories that they say were a delusion I created in my comatose state. They said there had never been a pro-wrestling company named WWE. They’d never heard of the Monday Night Wars. And yet, I had such vivid recollections of it. Could it really have been a fantasy? A concoction of my damaged brain? Could it really be that I made it all up? I struggled with this question, and others. Like, if I’d been in such a fall, why did I have no scars? If I’d been in a coma for months, why had I not aged or wasted away? Why was I in such good shape? If it was all a creation, what had I done before? Who was I?[/font] [font=Times New Roman]In the end, after much soul searching, I came up with a solution. Perhaps I was lucky. Perhaps I’d been taken somewhere else, where I could work without the burden of my reputation and my past mistakes. So, I told the psychiatrists that I’d accepted that maybe it was all a figment of my imagination. There was no WWE, no Vince McMahon, no Hulk Hogan, no WCW, no Monday Night Wars, no TNA. It was all a delusion. Eventually, they were ready to let me go. Before they did, though, somebody wanted to meet me…[/font] [font=Times New Roman]-----------------------------------------------[/font] [font=Times New Roman]In a small room not far from this mysterious individual’s hospital room, an attractive woman in her mid-twenties watched him on a series of monitors. The room was dark, illuminated only by the glow o the monitors, and quite, with the dull hum of the electrical equipment the only audible sound. This dark, quiet atmosphere was suddenly broken when two men waked in. One wore a white medical lab coat, and would have been recognised by the mysterious man as Dr. Marc Lyons, his psychiatrist. The other wore a suit and a hat that concealed his face, and he bore the stance of a man with a purpose to his life.[/font] [font=Times New Roman]Lyons: Vibert’s here. He fell for that bait we gave him. He really is desperate to save his company. But… are you sure about this, sir? This is what you want to do?[/font] [font=Times New Roman]Lyon’s Employer: Of course this is what I want! Did you not see what this man did in that other reality?! He’s perfect. He will achieve my goal, my revenge. And he’ll never know who the puppet master is. Eisen, Cornell and Vibert will learn…[/font] [font=Times New Roman]He paused to remove his hat, revealing his face…[/font] [font=Times New Roman][img]http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a30/JennieBombGTH/TEW%20Diary%20Pics/JKStalkingsJr.jpg[/img]: Nobody defies J.K. Stallings jr. and gets away with it![/font] [font=Times New Roman]-----------------------------------------------[/font] [font=Times New Roman]I was dressing myself in readiness to leave the hospital when Dr. Lyons entered my room.[/font] [font=Times New Roman]Lyons: Mr. Vibert is here to see you.[/font] [font=Times New Roman]I looked up as a man walked in. He had a presence, comparable to that of Paul Heyman during his ECW days, of the righteous little guy beset from all sides, yet standing tall despite everything. He was a tallish man, with jet black hair, and a huge cigar, which he smoked despite the hundreds of “No Smoking” signs around the hospital.[/font] [font=Times New Roman][img]http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a30/JennieBombGTH/TEW%20Diary%20Pics/PhilVibert.jpg[/img]: Hi, my name’s Phil Vibert. I have a proposal for you. I run a westling promotion, DaVE. We’re the third biggest company in America, but we have problems. The big two are after our talent, our champion prioritises a Japanese promotion ahead of us and is never available for our TV tapings. We’re struggling in the ratings and we’ll probably lose our TV deal soon. We need help. I’ve been interviewing or a new head booker to take over and shake things up, but nobody’s been up to the job. Then, I heard about you, the guy who created a whole decade’s worth of an entire wrestling industry in your head whilst in a coma. I have nothing left to lose, and you have amnesia. So here’s the deal: Will you use those talents that created an entire world and become our head booker? Will you save DaVE?[/font] [font=Times New Roman]I thought about it briefly. He was right, I’d be lost in this world, and he was offering me a job, something I’d struggle to do since I had no qualifications here. I had no choice. Besides, it sounded like a challenge. I smiled at him, and offered him my hand. He smiled back, and shook my hand.[/font] [font=Times New Roman][img]http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a30/JennieBombGTH/TEW%20Diary%20Pics/PhilVibert.jpg[/img]: I take it we have a deal Mr… uhh,..[/font] [font=Times New Roman][img]http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a30/JennieBombGTH/TEW%20Diary%20Pics/VinceRusso.jpg[/img]: Russo. Vince Russo.[/font] (Note: If I could, I'd include a link to the music that'd be most appropriate at this point, Carl Orff's [i]Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi[/i] from his opera [i]Carmina Burana[/i] :p)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...
After beginning my own diary I know how much of a task it becomes at times. It can slow your game up alot which doesn't give you as much time to enjoy. With that being said pleeeease continue this Jenny, it's the only dynasty on here with such an original idea and I really wanted to see how Russo would go in Cornellverse:)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

×
×
  • Create New...