Apocalypse: Matt Tastic vs. Ramparte

[Richard Blonoff]

Deadline is Tuesday, January 19th at 11:59PM. Extensions available upon request.

 

[Spidey Revivey]

______________________________


"Ozymandias"​

"I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear:

‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”."

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley​

Batti: "Eh, I don't get it. English per favor?"

The perky blonde scratched her head with one hand while controlling the wheel with the other. She took a sharp left turn and passed a school bus filled with jeering children. They gawked at the black limousine as it veered away onto an Exit.

Ramparte opened his eyes just to roll them at his young employee.

Ramparte: "Of course. You know nothing of the beauty of poetry, do you? Have you never read Stephen Crane? Walt Whitman? William Blake?"

Batti: "Nuu. But I like haikus! Those are fun Ram-chan." ^_^

Ramparte: "Haikus? Those aren't real poems, Miss Otaku. You can't get a full emotion from something so short."

Batti: "Yesh you can, Rampoo. I do it quite often nao. How ya feeling, eh?

See? I did a haiku."

Ramparte: "..."

Batti: "You got a full emotion from someone very short." ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Otaku went back into the left lane without signalling and was promptly honked at. The Recluse sighed.

Ramparte: "Mind the road. It's a waste of my breath to educate the dim on such things anyways. It's not like you understand what 'Ozymandias' is really about."

Batti: "There were a lot of big words, yeah, but it was about a guy meeting a guy and the other guy told him he saw a broken statue and a plaque. Pretty much the frickle frackle, yass?"

Ramparte: "...yes. But you're talking about content, not context."

Batti: "Who cares about context? People care about what they can understand at face value. When they read something, they don't care about heavy-handed symbolism or overt use of dramatic prose. Puhleeeease. What bakka 'tard really wants his work analyzed and interpreted like that?"

¯\_(&#12484_/¯​

Ramparte: "...pride. The poem is about foolish pride."

Batti: "AND a broken statue."


A few hours later, the limousine stopped at the city dump. Refuse was piled high like waves ready to crash down on them. It was almost like the desert sands. The energetic driver leapt out of her seat and bum rushed the backseat passenger's door. She yanked it gingerly and stood at attention like a mock Queen's Guard.

"This is where you'll become a god, Ramparte.

He is waiting for you."

Alice, who until now had remained dormant, spoke to him in her most soothing voice. He lifted the cane and stepped out. He surveyed the landscape in an almost feral snarl. Batti noticed the expression.

Batti: "Yeaaaaah. Not sure why you brought us here. It's totally not kawaii. My Stumblr fans won't be reblogging about this. I mean yeah I call myself WZCWeeaboo trash but this is wayyy too literal for my taste."

Ramparte: "In order to get a better understanding of my opponent, this is where I must venture. Matt Tastic is not a clean, classy wrestler. He's not of any decent pedigree. He's as low as one can be, yet he rose to the highest honor in our company. I must know why. What makes him so special. What was it that brought down my beloved Cerberus at his hands? We know he was the one that did it. Had to be. I must know.

And besides...he is waiting for me."

Otaku gave him a confused look. He stared down at her in apathy.

Ramparte: "Watch over the limo. I will not be gone long."

The Recluse twirled Alice between his fingers, tucked her underneath his arm, and casually strolled through the mountains of garbage.

As the limousine disappeared in the distance, he came upon a clearing. There, stacked in columns akin to The Parthenon, were rows of tattered books. They were molded, soiled- but he could tell what they were. An icon of an anthropomorphic feline in a large hat. A pachyderm with a dandelion close to his ear. A furry man staring down at a plate of food that shouldn't be green. A monster taking a holiday away. The children's books stood like a monument to something.

And then he smelled it. Sulfur. Just as soon as it filled his nostrils, it dissipated. In its place, the books started smoldering.

His voice surrounded Ramparte in booming omnipresence.

"Shed your burdens and face the fire
For I am with you in the quagmire."


Ramparte: "Doctor..?"

Flames licked the pages of the adolescent tomes. The stacks collapsed into a pyre. Dr. Zeus's voice transferred to the cane Alice.

"Vengeance is yours, and yours alone
For Tastic can't know the pain you've known
So use it, embrace it, and serve it well
Pain is the only cure in your heaven-sent Hell
Now is the time you relinquish any doubt
Take this moment to expel the demons out
Cerberus is at rest- but your might is threefold
The Unholy Trinity is a glorious sight to behold!"

Ramparte: 'I...I hear you, Doctor. I believe in your works. I am your most admiring fan."

"Then go, my acolyte, and heed my call
We will be the reason why gods on high fall
Let my words consume you, most avid of readers
Bring forth a cataclysm for all bottom feeders..."

The Good Doctor fell silent. Ramparte's legs gave out on him, his knees plunged into the muck of the refuse. It was like the voice of God. An ethereal being that The Recluse thought mute. He filled Ramparte with a newfound purpose. Cerberus was gone. There was no revival. But The Unholy Trinity was a shelter akin to The Hounds of Hell- maybe even something greater. Dr. Zeus was a father figure. A mentor. The Teacher. World Champion. To follow in the World Champion's footsteps would be...

Tears ran down his face. Not for what Matt Tastic had stolen, but for what Zeus gave. Everything will be perfect again. Tastic must be taken care of though. For peace of mind.

He wrinkled his lip. Cerberus would now be an afterthought. No more goofy muscle-bound partner. No vain eye candy. Just a decadent rapture. John Doe. Dr. Zeus. Ramparte. They were like an incantation in The Necronomicon calling for a trinity of terror.

He lied down in the mire, his face half hidden in the disgusting grime. A shattered visage with a trembling sneer.

Ramparte: "Dr. Zeus...Ozymandias...thank you. Thank you."

[YOUTUBE]HSH--SJKVQQ[/YOUTUBE]​

 

[ABMorales787]

The day is coming. Apocalypse, the latest WZCW PPV is closing in. As the days draw near, Matt Tastic ponders on his adversary. The man who disguised himself twice to attack Matt from behind. A man who blames Matt for things that were outside his control. Ramparte. Young and brash, he became one half of one the most dominating Tag Teams in WZCW. But the man poked a bear when he called out Matt Tastic last year. Matt did not take kindly to it. For as nice and fun as he is, Matt has always had a temper. He once injured a friend in Gordito. He lashed out at the company he adores. And of course, there was his tough love to Mikey Stormrage. For as revered as he is and much fun he clearly shows to have, one can never say Matt is too soft. He came from rough beginnings. While not in poverty, he was of minor privilege. Rough upbringings. He'll never forget his fight to get to where he is. That's why him being so concerned of being out of contention for a title concerns him. He may be one of the highest paid wrestlers and spends little to nothing of his earnings, but he still feels that obligating need to be the absolute best that he can.



But that's where Ramparte comes in. Matt Tastic had just beat Titus. The Eurasian Champion. For all intents and purposes, that should've placed Matt in line to face him again with the title on the line. But as they say in wrestling, "Sometimes plans change". Matt was attacked by a hooded figure. Unable to identify the attacker, Matt was almost blinded by rage. He could not believe someone would attack him without saying who it was. Matt understood that now that he's one of the most successful wrestlers in history, he'd have a target on his back. He just didn't think the people attacking him would do it hiding. It brought memories of the Crashin Movement to his head. His thoughts swirled giving him agonizing migraines remembering that time his Mayhem title was stolen and whoever did it kept hiding for weeks. But much like Steven Holmes back them, Ramparte today reveals his fickle cause to Matt. He blames Matt for the dissolution of Cerberus. But Matt on his end just cares for getting payback on the guy messing with him. The alliance to Dr. Zeus and John Doe doesn't matter to him. Just retribution.



==========================================
​

A few days removed from the big night, Matt serves himself some food in the home of his grandfather. Granpa Tastic sits on a round, plastic table while sitting on a chair with no base on it. Just the rims support the man's tuckus and the weight of his body. Matt serves himself some rice and beans and goes to sit on the table. Pulling out a chair with the seating of another chair tied to it because it also has a giant gaping hole. This thing would make a great latrine if they ever felt the need. Matt sits and places his plate but as he does the table collapses. One of the legs snapping from the minimum weight. Matt looks on angrily as his Granpa just looks on uncaring.


Matt: Granpa...... I bought you a very nice dinning room furniture set. Why aren't you using it? For that matter, why aren't you using any of the furniture I bought you?


Granpa: Well, 'mijo. I just think it looks better in the box.


Matt: I just lost my dinner because of that.


Granpa: Well don't you normally sit in front of the TV?


Matt: Well I gladly would but the table holding the TV is crooked and I have enough migraines thinking about that bitch, Ramparte. Why aren't you using the entertainment set I got you?


Granpa: In the box.


Matt: WHY??


Suddenly a phone starts to ring. Matt looks but is perplexed by the fact that what he hears is an actual bell. He turns and see's it. Granpa's phone. It has a rotary dialer. Granpa goes and answers it as Matt starts to think to himself.


Matt: That ringing is echoing through my head. It sounds just like a ring bell. Now I can't stop thinking about Ramparte. And how he attacked me from behind. Damn coward. Blaming me for what happened to me. Then crawling to Zeus for sympathy.



Granpa hangs up the phone and turns to Matt.


Granpa: It's your mom. She says bring milk when you go by later.


Matt:From the store or from the cow?


Granpa:You know she hates cow milk. I need to ask you something. This boy. Ramparty is it?


Matt: It's Ramparte.


Granpa: That's what I said. Anyway. He blames you for his troubles. This boy. Something about him seems darker than before. What's changed in him? Is it following this Dr. Zeus character? Is he truly this satanic priest he claims?


Matt: Gramps..... You and I were both raised in Christianity. I don't know what to tell you. We've never seen a case of satanism that's this elaborate. Normally, people just misbehave. These guys? I wouldn't be shocked if they're committing santeria* for shits and giggles. I don't believe they're who they claim to be. I just think they're a bunch of shitheads trying to justify their actions.


*Santeria is an old Caribbean pagan religion that incorporates the sacrifice of small animals to haeve prayers answered.


Granpa: I don't know. Summoning crosses with fire, appearing out of nowhere, it seems like radical stuff. And this man who picked a fight with you seems very believing not just in what he thinks but in what he's been told.



Matt: Believe whatever you want to believe, Gramps. All I know is this man is blaming me for his shortcomings and trying to hide behind a silly cause. I'm standing for myself here. I'm not gonna be intimidated by cheap parlor tricks and rants. He called me out. I'll more than gladly answer.


Granpa picks up the plate of food that fell earlier. He throws the rice outside where chickens suddenly swarm to eat it. He cleans the plate as Matt takes out the table and throws it outside as well. Some of the chickens flock away to avoid the danger but instantly come back to peck at the food. Others don't budge. Too concerned of eating to move out. It's odd. They get their usual share of chicken feed daily and have dispensers in their cages. Not to mention all the insects and worms they find on the ground. Yet here they're too hungry to care for the danger. Almost as if they could not go on without consuming that food. Any food. At any cost. One could say it's like Ramparte. Starved for an excuse for the end of Cerberus that he just eats what he believes and ignores whatever dangers his choices lead him to. Dr. Zeus throws the food Ramparte consumes and Ramparte just consumes it satiating his hunger and ignoring the dangers around him.


Matt turns over to his Granpa. He warns Matt of any danger even though Matt is fully aware of what he's getting into. Granpa wants to keep Matt away from getting caught up in a similar situation. Maybe to engulfed in his anger for getting attacked to realize the danger Ramparte's benefactor poses. But Matt is more than aware of it. It's not his first time dealing with wack-jobs who pay allegiance to the "dark side". As a matter of fact, it very much seems like 80% of the time WZCW is under siege by the forces from hell. Matt can't help but be in complete apathy at the thought of another similar threat. Matt picks out his phone, a Samsung Galaxy S6 he upgraded to when he learned he could watch TV on them. He looks at the screensaver.

​

It's a show where Earth is constantly under threat of evil that just worships evil because they're evil. Matt's seen it in some way all his life. Not just in TV or WZCW. Every day how some people are just unable to own up to their mistakes and decide to find whatever they can to justify it. They feed exclusively on the fear of the ignorant. But are powerless to oppose people with the courage to stand up in what they believe. Matt Tastic believes. He believes not in the light. Not in what religion dictates. He believes on the fighting spirit. To fight to construct your own future and to bring those around you together and help them to be as good as they can be too.


Matt stops his thinking. Realizing he was just staring aimlessly at his phone and turns to his granpa. Perplexed as well as struck by an idea. He had a message for Ramparte. A message to make it clear he was not concerned over Ramparte's thoughts. His allegiance. Or his antics. He cared of one simple thing. Proving him wrong. And he had just the visuals to do it.


Matt: Gramps.


Granpa: Yeah?


Matt: I have a very weird job.


Granpa: Why do you say that?


Matt: I somehow turned chickens eating, religion and Power Rangers into analogies. And now I'm about to go outside and monologue.


Granpa: OK. Anything I can do to help? A psychologist, maybe?


Matt: No, we already did that. Llama los bomberos.*

=====================================================


Matt walks into dark scenery in his backyard. Nothing can be seen as he walks into the darkness. What can be heard are the sounds of animals. Realizing their caretaker is around, they all make noise assuming he's there to feed them. But he's not feeding his chickens. Or his cows. Or his dogs. He's feeding the fans. Not just his fans. The fans of professional wrestling. The fans that sit down twice every week to see those who inspire them that even the most average or the most outlandish can find their place in the world. Even if it's a wrestling ring trying to beat the shit out of someone else. Matt wants to feed them. With knowledge.


Matt:Ramparte.


The name is spoken from the darkness. The source is clear but the location is not precise. But the void of endless black night shrouds it. The moment the name is done being uttered a small light is ignited. Matt's face takes shape as a small flare lights up the night emerging from a kitchen lighter.


Matt:You.


You hide in the dark, cowering behind the leg of a man who's given up on the privilege of life. Trying to drag others down the same crippled road of unfixed failures. Blaming others for your misfortunes expecting others to fix your issues for you. Your crush left you hanging. Your best friend left you because of your actions. You know what I did when my best friend defeated me in a big match? I patted him on the back and told him I'd always have his back.


As Matt speaks, the fire can be seen moving. It ignites a torch on a corner as the smaller fire of the lighter moves on.


Matt:I am Matt Tastic! I am the epitome of potential! From rags to proverbial richest. From rookie to icon. From jobber to World Champion. From unknown to household name. Ramparte. You blame me for the fall of Cerberus. You push your problems and misfortunes on me as if me going away is going to solve them. As if defeating me will change the course of history and undo the things that split you three apart. Lost little spider. Trapped in your own web. Wrapped comfortably on your own silk. It's about time someone pulled you out of it. And made you see reality. To accept the truth that surrounds you. You should've followed me as an example instead of Dr. Zeus. Instead you've attacked me. You've hurt me. And that makes me angry. You would not like me…. When I'm angry.


As the small flame continues to walk another torch is lit. Suddenly the field becomes much clearer as we see animals in their cages looking on attentively.


Matt:You and I seem to be reflections of one another. Two lost souls who seem to be straying off their paths. Stumbling on the cracks on the road. Tripping through the potholes. Lumbering through the humps. When we look in the mirror we see each other. But that mirror is broken. A great metaphor for our current situations. As we stand with no direction in our careers. But you see, while we walk that broken path, I cover holes and cracks while you just shout in anger waiting for others to fix it.


Into the middle the flame stands now. Matt can be seen clearly now. He drops the lighter onto what looks like a cylinder. Lighting it up and with the illumination it becomes clear this is a clandestine BBQ. Perfect for cooking meats and such. Matt stands right over it with his face illuminated by the flames as he continues to speak loudly and proudly.


Matt:But these recent weeks have illuminated me just like this fire illuminates my field. I looked for the light and guess what? I found it. Meanwhile, you just sit and toil in the darkness that is your own regret. Making excuses and not owning up to your mistakes. Where as when I made mistakes...... I took responsibility and cleaned myself up and won more Championships than ever. Including yours. Your move now, child.


I've seen your darkness and I don't care for your words. End of the world, death to all, it's all just white noise to me. As long as I stand I'm gonna fight. You picked a fight with me? Fine. At Apocalypse I'm gonna Deliver Kickassery. And you will never bother me again. You will own up to what you brought on yourself. And hopefully open your eyes to see the fire you're playing with. I suggest you be careful. It's gonna be flaming hot.



===================================================

"Llama los bomberos" means "Call the fire department."​