You Can't Mask Cowardice.
Nov 16, 2015 5:25:33 GMT -5
Post by Cordy on Nov 16, 2015 5:25:33 GMT -5
“Well things done really snowballed, ain’t they?” Donnie seethed through gritted teeth; a good portion of his face obscured by the hoodie thrown over his head, but it’s easy to see that he isn’t in the best of moods. How could he be after the vicious attack by Valcone, Brody Watts and The Crimson Baroness? He shakes his head, and let’s out a low frustrated chuckle.
“And ta think, this all just started with me and you, MacRear,” He scoffs. “Silly old me believing you were better than the dirty tactics that you employed. Boy did you prove me wrong. But look around now; look at how many people done got dragged into this madness all because you’re every bit the damn coward that I said ya were.” He hisses venomously.
“Ain’t no mask in the world that can cover that. Not when you make it so blatantly clear in everything that you do. Nah, ya can’t mask the lack of a spine, and I wanted ya to see that.” He snarks haughtily. “No, I needed ya to see that. So yes, I took your stupid little mask. Because the truth is, it ain’t make much of a difference one way or the other.”
“Ya see, your ugliness? It was never a physical flaw, MacRear. It was always just a character deficiency. But you? You’re too shallow to see something like that. You’re too simple minded to look beyond the surface. You’re not ugly because of the pimples you always seem to have on your face, no -- you’re ugly because you’re just not a good person.” He goes quiet for a second, his gaze lowering to the ground. “And you can’t mask who you are, MacRear, no matter how hard you try. But all of this? It should have definitely stayed between us. But there I go again, silly little Donnie Cross expecting a known coward to act like he’s got a sack for once.”
“Who was I kidding? I should have known better, shouldn’t I? I mean, somethin’ without a backbone ain’t really able to stand too tough now is it? I shoulda known that you’d slither off and commune amongst your kind. A congregation of snakes is what ya are, so it’s no surprise to me that The Crimson Baroness is the first one to come slithering to your aid. And Brody Watts?” He outstretches his arms, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“Booooy I tell ya, you musta really searched far and wide under every rock in sight to dig him up again. What is he, on some sorta revenge kick? Yeah, that must be it, cause the last time Brody Watts was seen in an LDFC ring, he was getting beat by yours truly.” He announces, animatedly jabbing his chest with his finger. He shakes his head. “I ain’t forgot, and chances are he hasn’t either. That’s fine and dandy. I’ll be your public enemy number one, but to attack Bree, to attack Emily --” he inhales sharply, growing more agitated by the second as he begins pacing back and forth. His personal feelings about it all clearly have him fired up.
“I can’t let that go unpunished. I just can’t let that slide.”
“Believe me when I say that you’re going to pay for that MacRear.” He threatens, removing the hood from his head. The boyish charm that we’re so accustomed to seeing just isn’t there anymore. Not now. Instead it’s replaced by an unfamiliar coldness.
“And The Baroness? Brody?” He vehemently shakes his head. “They won’t be able to save you. Because when I get my hands on you at Third Strike, it won’t be pretty, and chances are when I’m done? You won’t be, either. You see, you’re not a butterfly, MacRear. You’re just a filthy, ugly, disgusting moth that’s flying too damn close to an open flame, and at Third Strike?”
“You get burned.”
“This has gone on long enough. And one way or another, I’m ending it. One way or another, I’m ending you. I’m so sorry that Bree and Em got dragged into this, but on everything I love, I’ma make it right. I have to.”
“And Baroness, it’s obvious to me that you just want attention. Everything you do is a blatant cry for it, but you know what? One day you’ll learn sweetheart, that some attention ya just don’t need. And the attention I plan on giving you at Third Strike? Believe me when I tell ya, it’s attention that ya don’t want.”
“Oh I appreciate your little warning sweetheart. Seriously I do. But come Third Strike, you’re going to realize that you shoulda worried less about saving me…”
There is something sinister in his smile.
“... and more about saving yourself.”
Word Count: 793
“And ta think, this all just started with me and you, MacRear,” He scoffs. “Silly old me believing you were better than the dirty tactics that you employed. Boy did you prove me wrong. But look around now; look at how many people done got dragged into this madness all because you’re every bit the damn coward that I said ya were.” He hisses venomously.
“Ain’t no mask in the world that can cover that. Not when you make it so blatantly clear in everything that you do. Nah, ya can’t mask the lack of a spine, and I wanted ya to see that.” He snarks haughtily. “No, I needed ya to see that. So yes, I took your stupid little mask. Because the truth is, it ain’t make much of a difference one way or the other.”
“Ya see, your ugliness? It was never a physical flaw, MacRear. It was always just a character deficiency. But you? You’re too shallow to see something like that. You’re too simple minded to look beyond the surface. You’re not ugly because of the pimples you always seem to have on your face, no -- you’re ugly because you’re just not a good person.” He goes quiet for a second, his gaze lowering to the ground. “And you can’t mask who you are, MacRear, no matter how hard you try. But all of this? It should have definitely stayed between us. But there I go again, silly little Donnie Cross expecting a known coward to act like he’s got a sack for once.”
“Who was I kidding? I should have known better, shouldn’t I? I mean, somethin’ without a backbone ain’t really able to stand too tough now is it? I shoulda known that you’d slither off and commune amongst your kind. A congregation of snakes is what ya are, so it’s no surprise to me that The Crimson Baroness is the first one to come slithering to your aid. And Brody Watts?” He outstretches his arms, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“Booooy I tell ya, you musta really searched far and wide under every rock in sight to dig him up again. What is he, on some sorta revenge kick? Yeah, that must be it, cause the last time Brody Watts was seen in an LDFC ring, he was getting beat by yours truly.” He announces, animatedly jabbing his chest with his finger. He shakes his head. “I ain’t forgot, and chances are he hasn’t either. That’s fine and dandy. I’ll be your public enemy number one, but to attack Bree, to attack Emily --” he inhales sharply, growing more agitated by the second as he begins pacing back and forth. His personal feelings about it all clearly have him fired up.
“I can’t let that go unpunished. I just can’t let that slide.”
“Believe me when I say that you’re going to pay for that MacRear.” He threatens, removing the hood from his head. The boyish charm that we’re so accustomed to seeing just isn’t there anymore. Not now. Instead it’s replaced by an unfamiliar coldness.
“And The Baroness? Brody?” He vehemently shakes his head. “They won’t be able to save you. Because when I get my hands on you at Third Strike, it won’t be pretty, and chances are when I’m done? You won’t be, either. You see, you’re not a butterfly, MacRear. You’re just a filthy, ugly, disgusting moth that’s flying too damn close to an open flame, and at Third Strike?”
“You get burned.”
“This has gone on long enough. And one way or another, I’m ending it. One way or another, I’m ending you. I’m so sorry that Bree and Em got dragged into this, but on everything I love, I’ma make it right. I have to.”
“And Baroness, it’s obvious to me that you just want attention. Everything you do is a blatant cry for it, but you know what? One day you’ll learn sweetheart, that some attention ya just don’t need. And the attention I plan on giving you at Third Strike? Believe me when I tell ya, it’s attention that ya don’t want.”
“Oh I appreciate your little warning sweetheart. Seriously I do. But come Third Strike, you’re going to realize that you shoulda worried less about saving me…”
There is something sinister in his smile.
“... and more about saving yourself.”
Word Count: 793
