Post by Deleted on Jul 2, 2019 18:57:03 GMT -5
[Open to what appears to be a small cottage in the snowy regions of Eastern Europe. Some semblance of the Bloc that broke up after the fall Communist Russia, we pan beyond the steppes through a window and gaze upon a glowing hearth. There, rocking in an old recliner, and dressed in the finery of Cossack tradition, relaxes the imposing figure of Baktin Fedorovich Pasha... or just "Pasha" to his friends. He welcomes the camera like a pleasurable neighbor with a wave of his large hands.]
"Allow me time to tell great tale. What became man and strongest lover, your Pasha. Your new hero. And what many shall make golden statue taller than Washington Monument. Pasha will guide hearts and give all love in his own... now for great tale!"
He claps, summoning his personal bard, the frail yet gravelly voiced Bohdan, and his classical bandura (a type of twangy lute that kind of sounds like a banjo or bluegrass mandolin). Bohdan plucks the first string and lets the cord subdue all those watching at home:
"On the verge of Caucasus ledge
Chopped wood and voice he shed,
'I am Pasha, son of Fedor," as he bled
Through shirt and slack. Times allege
Dear wholesome son, to God he pledge
'If I am dead,' he say, 'at least I lived."
"From down he goes a journey bodes
Well from its peak, yet where do fears
Go when all that terrifies goes ice cold
And deer or elk begin their trek, odd
Or true, to whiten abodes, 'til sadness froze
Upon his cheek, dying twice on the road."
"Fear not and wipe your tears... Pasha declare
At morning's glare, he shall overcome and climb.
Born again, anew by winter breast, a flair
For danger at every turn - but not daring
To challenge what destiny rhyme
From not one or two, but a life of error."
Pasha claps, standing from his seat in joy, leading his hypeman out of shot. He then motions the camera back towards his bearded visage. Those icy blue eyes see into souls while also offering a sheet of fresh cookies. A calming expression for any and all to adore, yet something else seems to be going on in his giant skull.
"Pasha knows what ails Trinity Wrestling. A golden compass that no man no woman can follow. It point north, and south, and east - even west. Because it have no idea what people need. We want gold. We want to love gold. God knows it brings us together but with knives. An evil Pasha not see in opponent. Why Pasha love Thomas, hoping he work out in private gym. Muscles are for world to share, not horde in home. Not hide from mirror. Accept my hand in great spar, Thomas. Pasha must crush to love. They say I must win title... I do not want to be champion if Pasha cannot love like good man. All deserve my love, for I not walk down mountains of snow and cross radioactive fields to be bad guy. Would die in foot of ice and snow, and then drown in glacier lake, than become a bastard."
"When they send Pasha invitation to Trinity, he cry. For many years he entertain carnivals with ogre size. Wow with bear strength, and even wrestle Kodak beasts. But Pasha knew his time would come. That more would see him fighter, and not as attraction. So he fight for prize money. Yet no one brave enough to meet him. Say 'Idiot, you kill me. I not fight you. Why not be in demolition. Or build railroad. Pasha say no... for he know one day light shine on him. Make him stronger. Make him faster. Save him from cruel hearts that laugh at Pasha. Run from his hugs. He never wish harm on people, only his greatest, undying love... but some things never come when wished upon."
"One man came to his rescue, Stuart Mendelsohn. A fat man. A food-loving man. But one with checkbook and spare plane big enough for Pasha to fly. From Russia to Belgrade to England then America... Pasha see world from plane window. Try many foods, many men and women, and he smile very much. Biggest smiles. When town call him 'stupid' and 'malformed,' others want his body. They bring him to new world, where big men can sell anything: cars, boat, houseboats and RVs. But even then, Pasha grow sad and dull. Edge need sharpened. So he fight again, but now on TVs."
"Stuart see Pasha's fighter heart and book him independent. He win. He conquer. And he love like musky yak. Now come today when that lover must test what left of fighter heart. Thomas Snow must fight Pasha, and he must beat him down. Words too harsh for nicest man who welcome Pasha on Twitter. Many good smiles... perhaps slide into his DMs after fight. Not picky nor pushy. But would be very nice if happen."
"Good Bohdan reminds that we are here for charity. Trevor Project is no laughing matter. Pasha has many gifts to sell to crowds, but this goes to scared and helpless. To those that cannot defend themselves. If only his arms could hug every young and questioning child at once. But he cannot. So we donate every ticket sale. And all Pasha salary from show to cause greater than his greatest hug. Pasha love them, and Thomas Snow, and everyone who buys ticket. Together, we can help those that no can help themselves. See you at show newest friend! I love you!"
[That cues Bohdan for more of his traditional music. They cut out singing the wonderful tune "Kalinika" as the video feed cuts to a antiquated background with USSR inspired colors. In Cyrillic it reads below a stylized mural of Pasha with godlike features just staring into an awesome horizon: "The greatest lover with an even greater heart."]
"Allow me time to tell great tale. What became man and strongest lover, your Pasha. Your new hero. And what many shall make golden statue taller than Washington Monument. Pasha will guide hearts and give all love in his own... now for great tale!"
He claps, summoning his personal bard, the frail yet gravelly voiced Bohdan, and his classical bandura (a type of twangy lute that kind of sounds like a banjo or bluegrass mandolin). Bohdan plucks the first string and lets the cord subdue all those watching at home:
"On the verge of Caucasus ledge
Chopped wood and voice he shed,
'I am Pasha, son of Fedor," as he bled
Through shirt and slack. Times allege
Dear wholesome son, to God he pledge
'If I am dead,' he say, 'at least I lived."
"From down he goes a journey bodes
Well from its peak, yet where do fears
Go when all that terrifies goes ice cold
And deer or elk begin their trek, odd
Or true, to whiten abodes, 'til sadness froze
Upon his cheek, dying twice on the road."
"Fear not and wipe your tears... Pasha declare
At morning's glare, he shall overcome and climb.
Born again, anew by winter breast, a flair
For danger at every turn - but not daring
To challenge what destiny rhyme
From not one or two, but a life of error."
Pasha claps, standing from his seat in joy, leading his hypeman out of shot. He then motions the camera back towards his bearded visage. Those icy blue eyes see into souls while also offering a sheet of fresh cookies. A calming expression for any and all to adore, yet something else seems to be going on in his giant skull.
"Pasha knows what ails Trinity Wrestling. A golden compass that no man no woman can follow. It point north, and south, and east - even west. Because it have no idea what people need. We want gold. We want to love gold. God knows it brings us together but with knives. An evil Pasha not see in opponent. Why Pasha love Thomas, hoping he work out in private gym. Muscles are for world to share, not horde in home. Not hide from mirror. Accept my hand in great spar, Thomas. Pasha must crush to love. They say I must win title... I do not want to be champion if Pasha cannot love like good man. All deserve my love, for I not walk down mountains of snow and cross radioactive fields to be bad guy. Would die in foot of ice and snow, and then drown in glacier lake, than become a bastard."
"When they send Pasha invitation to Trinity, he cry. For many years he entertain carnivals with ogre size. Wow with bear strength, and even wrestle Kodak beasts. But Pasha knew his time would come. That more would see him fighter, and not as attraction. So he fight for prize money. Yet no one brave enough to meet him. Say 'Idiot, you kill me. I not fight you. Why not be in demolition. Or build railroad. Pasha say no... for he know one day light shine on him. Make him stronger. Make him faster. Save him from cruel hearts that laugh at Pasha. Run from his hugs. He never wish harm on people, only his greatest, undying love... but some things never come when wished upon."
"One man came to his rescue, Stuart Mendelsohn. A fat man. A food-loving man. But one with checkbook and spare plane big enough for Pasha to fly. From Russia to Belgrade to England then America... Pasha see world from plane window. Try many foods, many men and women, and he smile very much. Biggest smiles. When town call him 'stupid' and 'malformed,' others want his body. They bring him to new world, where big men can sell anything: cars, boat, houseboats and RVs. But even then, Pasha grow sad and dull. Edge need sharpened. So he fight again, but now on TVs."
"Stuart see Pasha's fighter heart and book him independent. He win. He conquer. And he love like musky yak. Now come today when that lover must test what left of fighter heart. Thomas Snow must fight Pasha, and he must beat him down. Words too harsh for nicest man who welcome Pasha on Twitter. Many good smiles... perhaps slide into his DMs after fight. Not picky nor pushy. But would be very nice if happen."
"Good Bohdan reminds that we are here for charity. Trevor Project is no laughing matter. Pasha has many gifts to sell to crowds, but this goes to scared and helpless. To those that cannot defend themselves. If only his arms could hug every young and questioning child at once. But he cannot. So we donate every ticket sale. And all Pasha salary from show to cause greater than his greatest hug. Pasha love them, and Thomas Snow, and everyone who buys ticket. Together, we can help those that no can help themselves. See you at show newest friend! I love you!"
[That cues Bohdan for more of his traditional music. They cut out singing the wonderful tune "Kalinika" as the video feed cuts to a antiquated background with USSR inspired colors. In Cyrillic it reads below a stylized mural of Pasha with godlike features just staring into an awesome horizon: "The greatest lover with an even greater heart."]