The Judge
02-28-2010, 12:03 AM
The scene opens up to The Judge sitting in a park on an early Saturday morning. The clouds above are heavy and show signs of a coming rain, The Judge is one of the only people sitting at the park this morning in one of the benches with accompanying chess sets. One other pair of seniors seem to be willing to brave the weather, yet The Judge sits alone with his chess set, appearing to control both sides.
“I’ve thought all week on what to say tonight, but even a whole week of thought does not bring me any closer to knowing what to say to a man who O’Donnell has chosen to represent Pride. A man that O’Donnell has threatened and instructed to give his all, or many men in his place would lose their jobs. A test? The ultimate test. The more time that passes though and the deeper we get into this cold winter that Jeffery O’Donnell has created around a company that should be shining so bright, the more evident it is that each of these sins is indeed a test. “
The Judge’s hand moves down to place his thumb and middle finger on the base of the black king, he does not move the piece, but keeps it in it’s default position on the board, hovering over the army it commands.
“So in the game of chess where O’Donnell has crowned his new royal dark king, the white king and his most trusted bishop, or queen depending on the mood and the amount of power behind his steps, are now put in a position where neither man can win. Jeffery assumes that I am a man of fear, and that SiNN is a man of pride. If he were indeed consumed by the pride O’Donnell wishes he was then he would have struck me down this week, or said why he was the better man, which he did prove as far as character is concerned to be more forgiving. Why indeed? The question drives Jeffery O’Donnell crazy, insane because he can’t figure out why the ace he thought he had in his sleeve turned out to be a Joker. Then, an act of anger, like an upset child who didn’t win his hand he struck, removed my cushion and cheated me twice in one night. A crushing defeat, but still a question, why was this chess piece he assumed to be his dark bishop a good man inside? Why were his robes white even though they had looked so black in the darkness?”
The Judge moves his hand to what looks to be a black bishop, but he moves the piece slightly to take it out of the dark king’s shadow, a shadow caused by a small flashlight cast behind it.
“O’Donnell ponders the question, but he still assumes he has control. The answer frightens him, and now he holds his rook in between the white king and the bishop who came to his side. A threat, move one the other dies, but indeed a move must be made. The ultimate sacrifice is what O’Donnell is waiting for, since he knows the king must move to avoid the end of the game, he looks to the bishop in a hungry rage. This is his chance he says, his opportunity to stop what he calls evil right in it’s path, yet even Lex Luther assumed Clark Kent to be the world’s biggest threat. O’Donnell does not even hear the cackle in his laugh as he places his rook, certain of success, certain that either the king moves and the bishop falls, or that the bishop moves and he finals wins this chess game between he and I, but more importantly, between light and dark, between turning this company into the shining star it deserves to be, or letting it wallow in another royal shadow. And here the rook sits, between the pieces looking to make the winning move.”
The Judge’s finger moves to the top of the rook, the castle ridges making a small imprint on his fingertip.
“What O’Donnell doesn’t understand, and the answer to the question that burns him on the insides is that these seven sins aren’t about The Judge at all. This is where the grand test fails, O’Donnell will soon come to realize that SiNN is indeed not the sinner he hoped him to be, and not the ruthless man I was when we were younger and weaker men. SiNN will come to the ring and give his all, and I will defeat him fairly because that’s what I need to do. Where a man such as James Moriarty Cassius was so far in denial of my uprising that he would not only clear the way but shortcut himself to the belt, SiNN’s heart is free of that some sense of greed.
O’Donnell counts on this though, he knows when he saw what SiNN did last week how this week was going to end. In one scenario SiNN comes in an inspired man hoping to save the jobs of his friends and this chess game is over, in another I move forward to avoid the wrath, I take down SiNN in an act of pride, and although I move forward with a win, my heart is too tainted to carry the light I need to beat the unrightful champ in his hometown. It was a genius plan, and that’s why the grin was so wide on the face of Jeffery as he placed his rook called Pride in the middle of the board, so focused on the next move, so sure he’d just put the nail in the coffin…”
The Judge’s finger moves from the rook and back to the flashlight cast behind the black king. He removes the flash light all together, and several pawns that had looked black before now glowed a light white under the gray sky.
“So blissfully unaware of the pawns about to eat his rook.”
The Judge’s fingers moves to one of the pawns.
“When you put men’s jobs on the line Jeffery you made this match far more about just The Judge and SiNN, far more then it being about pride, and far beyond the simple victory you hoped to gain here. The same men who served as your pawns last week this week shall be mine. O’Donnell sees only in black and white, he forgets the shades of gray that shape us all, and gray is indeed SiNN’s favorite color unless I’m mistaken. As fun as a traditional game of chess is, O’Donnell has forgotten the reason he created EWE. Evolution. This is not a traditional game any longer, and while men may wave black and white flags their entire wrestling careers we’re just a little bit smarter here. No longer are the days of shallow minded fools waiting in line to face one another, at least not since Blade got suspended. O’Donnell will soon realize he’s toying with way too many people’s lives to look like the holy crusader he believes he still does.
And thus the pieces are set and the burning question still lingers in O’Donnell’s mind. Why? Why is this happening? Why do the plans backfire? Why are the sins not going the way O’Donnell had hoped? Why is The Judge still continuing to fight even though he’s been hammered down so hard, hard enough to defeat any sinner? The answer terrifies him, but it is indeed very simple. It’s because the seven sins aren’t about me, nor are they about SiNN, Mike Adams, James Cassius, or even any of the men in the ring last week. None of these men are pure, but none are quite as sinful as the man with the question…
Yes… You… Jeffery O’Donnell.”
The Judge takes a deep breath and looks up to the camera now.
"Now let us finish this turn, for I am eager to take down your king."
The Judge mows down the rook with one of the white pawns as the scene fades.
“I’ve thought all week on what to say tonight, but even a whole week of thought does not bring me any closer to knowing what to say to a man who O’Donnell has chosen to represent Pride. A man that O’Donnell has threatened and instructed to give his all, or many men in his place would lose their jobs. A test? The ultimate test. The more time that passes though and the deeper we get into this cold winter that Jeffery O’Donnell has created around a company that should be shining so bright, the more evident it is that each of these sins is indeed a test. “
The Judge’s hand moves down to place his thumb and middle finger on the base of the black king, he does not move the piece, but keeps it in it’s default position on the board, hovering over the army it commands.
“So in the game of chess where O’Donnell has crowned his new royal dark king, the white king and his most trusted bishop, or queen depending on the mood and the amount of power behind his steps, are now put in a position where neither man can win. Jeffery assumes that I am a man of fear, and that SiNN is a man of pride. If he were indeed consumed by the pride O’Donnell wishes he was then he would have struck me down this week, or said why he was the better man, which he did prove as far as character is concerned to be more forgiving. Why indeed? The question drives Jeffery O’Donnell crazy, insane because he can’t figure out why the ace he thought he had in his sleeve turned out to be a Joker. Then, an act of anger, like an upset child who didn’t win his hand he struck, removed my cushion and cheated me twice in one night. A crushing defeat, but still a question, why was this chess piece he assumed to be his dark bishop a good man inside? Why were his robes white even though they had looked so black in the darkness?”
The Judge moves his hand to what looks to be a black bishop, but he moves the piece slightly to take it out of the dark king’s shadow, a shadow caused by a small flashlight cast behind it.
“O’Donnell ponders the question, but he still assumes he has control. The answer frightens him, and now he holds his rook in between the white king and the bishop who came to his side. A threat, move one the other dies, but indeed a move must be made. The ultimate sacrifice is what O’Donnell is waiting for, since he knows the king must move to avoid the end of the game, he looks to the bishop in a hungry rage. This is his chance he says, his opportunity to stop what he calls evil right in it’s path, yet even Lex Luther assumed Clark Kent to be the world’s biggest threat. O’Donnell does not even hear the cackle in his laugh as he places his rook, certain of success, certain that either the king moves and the bishop falls, or that the bishop moves and he finals wins this chess game between he and I, but more importantly, between light and dark, between turning this company into the shining star it deserves to be, or letting it wallow in another royal shadow. And here the rook sits, between the pieces looking to make the winning move.”
The Judge’s finger moves to the top of the rook, the castle ridges making a small imprint on his fingertip.
“What O’Donnell doesn’t understand, and the answer to the question that burns him on the insides is that these seven sins aren’t about The Judge at all. This is where the grand test fails, O’Donnell will soon come to realize that SiNN is indeed not the sinner he hoped him to be, and not the ruthless man I was when we were younger and weaker men. SiNN will come to the ring and give his all, and I will defeat him fairly because that’s what I need to do. Where a man such as James Moriarty Cassius was so far in denial of my uprising that he would not only clear the way but shortcut himself to the belt, SiNN’s heart is free of that some sense of greed.
O’Donnell counts on this though, he knows when he saw what SiNN did last week how this week was going to end. In one scenario SiNN comes in an inspired man hoping to save the jobs of his friends and this chess game is over, in another I move forward to avoid the wrath, I take down SiNN in an act of pride, and although I move forward with a win, my heart is too tainted to carry the light I need to beat the unrightful champ in his hometown. It was a genius plan, and that’s why the grin was so wide on the face of Jeffery as he placed his rook called Pride in the middle of the board, so focused on the next move, so sure he’d just put the nail in the coffin…”
The Judge’s finger moves from the rook and back to the flashlight cast behind the black king. He removes the flash light all together, and several pawns that had looked black before now glowed a light white under the gray sky.
“So blissfully unaware of the pawns about to eat his rook.”
The Judge’s fingers moves to one of the pawns.
“When you put men’s jobs on the line Jeffery you made this match far more about just The Judge and SiNN, far more then it being about pride, and far beyond the simple victory you hoped to gain here. The same men who served as your pawns last week this week shall be mine. O’Donnell sees only in black and white, he forgets the shades of gray that shape us all, and gray is indeed SiNN’s favorite color unless I’m mistaken. As fun as a traditional game of chess is, O’Donnell has forgotten the reason he created EWE. Evolution. This is not a traditional game any longer, and while men may wave black and white flags their entire wrestling careers we’re just a little bit smarter here. No longer are the days of shallow minded fools waiting in line to face one another, at least not since Blade got suspended. O’Donnell will soon realize he’s toying with way too many people’s lives to look like the holy crusader he believes he still does.
And thus the pieces are set and the burning question still lingers in O’Donnell’s mind. Why? Why is this happening? Why do the plans backfire? Why are the sins not going the way O’Donnell had hoped? Why is The Judge still continuing to fight even though he’s been hammered down so hard, hard enough to defeat any sinner? The answer terrifies him, but it is indeed very simple. It’s because the seven sins aren’t about me, nor are they about SiNN, Mike Adams, James Cassius, or even any of the men in the ring last week. None of these men are pure, but none are quite as sinful as the man with the question…
Yes… You… Jeffery O’Donnell.”
The Judge takes a deep breath and looks up to the camera now.
"Now let us finish this turn, for I am eager to take down your king."
The Judge mows down the rook with one of the white pawns as the scene fades.