Post by Shadow on Aug 18, 2012 6:05:09 GMT -4
I got a lot to say today, so you guys don’t get a set up. Instead, I think I’ll spin ya’ll a yarn about Shadow’s wondrous journey across the world. A story about how each and every one of you is so royally screwed for being unlucky enough to get booked in this match with me. But first, I want everyone to know I am honored to have the chance to represent Meltdown at Shockwave. I think Meltdown is a phenomenal brand. If I never leave, I would still be perfectly happy; because the Diamond Standard just keeps getting better and better. I used to think that there are only so many matches a man can make. Let’s look at them together real quick. Maybe it won’t bore you. We all know my first match on Meltdown ended with a loss, but the man who defeated me was Jair Hopkins. That guy is on the fast track, moving up on Asylum. The man is great talent and he earned that win.
Then things took a turn. Diamond really stepped up his game by booking me in that STD commercial, I mean six man tag match. Seriously, Dita and I both needed delousing after that one. It was on that night I first met Carmen Slut-Diego. The bitch with the gift so nice she tried to give it twice. Carmen had a lot of things going for her recently that recently, not anymore but she did. Some second rate Overdrive referee as her boyfriend, Evan Envi as a girlfriend. The girl even had the strap.....................on, for a while at least. But as we watch this soap opera Carmen calls her life, we realize that with her spiraling downfall the girl is just about finished, like every other former cheerleader who peaked in middle school.
Speaking of finishing things; remember the Rookie Royal? I know I do. None of those guys survived. Well one piggy sizzled a little while longer. Then I flipped his ass out of the frying pan and right into the trash when we were done with him. Carmen, that’s something for you to think on. I’m really good at finishing things and I’ll finish your slutty ass later.
After Diamond decided to make me the official APW sanitation specialist, he felt I needed to tag with Dita again. What people fail to realize is tag matches do not suit me anymore. Look at every tag match I’ve been in since coming back to APW, my partner lets me down. No offense to Dita, but I learned that the only person I can count on is me.
And I proved that I am just as dependable as I am brutal. Ask the American who they can count on: politicians, Tim Tebow, Carrot Top? Hell no, America can depend on Shadow! You can depend on me because for our great country’s two hundred and thirty sixth birthday, I offered up Stefan Raab’s ass on a silver platter. No strike that, it was on a stop sign. Johnny Diamond just keeps jacking up the standard (in a good way). Therefore, every week I have to go bigger and better in order to reach it, so I do. I take things up a notch in every match and look where that landed Stefan Raab. I faced him in my first Xtreme style match since coming back. That match was brutal and despite his underhanded tactics, I still won.
But Johnny wasn’t finished there. He piggybacked on that week’s standard in order to ascend to a new level with the famed triple threat match, which would start false prophet Michael Lively on his road to glory.........holes. Since neither of them was ready, I stepped up to the plate. After Raab walked out on the match to go play with his “Spiders,” I decided to just get it over with. Lively and a bunch of people dogged me for that. I don’t see why they did. I pinned a fellow Hall of Famer, who just so happens to be the current North American Champion. Nothing but diamonds in my book, baby.
So let’s get back to the big Battle Royal. My second exposure with Carmen, I swear the bitch is just like a bad case VD, she just doesn’t go away. Harris, you know all about that don’t you? That Battle Royal reshaped the very foundations of Meltdown, hell I sent two men’s careers to the morgue in that match. Nevertheless, despite my impressive hit list, I still got hypnotized by Rivera’s rack. Sue me. That night was also another first. Dante met his future mistress: Carmen. I think I have a great name for their tag team. “Cross.Dressers.” Hey that’s clever shit, it’s a double pun, you didn’t think of it!
Now that we’ve covered the ancient history, brush up on current events: The Beat the Clock challenge. I know, why would a man who won the Overdrive title in a matter of seconds take his time with a guppy like Dante; because toying with Dante pissed him off more than a simple sodomizing. I took my time. I have to from now on. Just ripping apart the roster isn’t enough anymore. I want to savor the scourge I set upon them, and for seven minutes I was in heaven. Then Dante’s testicles decided to drop. He snaked the win, I’m not mad about that, in fact it makes me smile, because I spent the next week just thinking about the ways I would return the favor.
Which brings us to two weeks ago; Shadow versus Benny, Combe and Dante. It’s rather fitting that your names start with those letters, shows your rating as Megastars. Again I had the opportunity to pulverize the D rated Dante, but instead I just tossed him aside, like I did at the Big Battle Royal and the Beat the Clock challenge. No, I had another slate to clean. Since the Celestial Samurai wanted to extend the olive branch, I had to be diplomatic during our negotiations. Needless to say, I still refused to sign the treaty.
Then I went to Overdrive where I went head to head with some of Meltdown’s top talent. It was the first time I’d truly been pitted against the top tier since that triple threat match. Once again I showed Johnny Diamond just how dependable I am. Yarmouth, and Young Mannie, two of my tag team partners were in that match. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t pin either of ya’ll that night. Then again, I guess I spoke to soon about not pinning Yarmouth.
Are you people seeing a pattern here? They’re like omens, popping up wherever I may be. Overdrive opened the door to Shockwave and while Los Angeles seems so far away, I take solace in the fact Meltdown kicks off in just a couple of hours. Seeing as how we’ve covered the “THEN,” in this little grim fairy tale shall we discuss the “NOW?”
Ten man tag match, interesting and with such an eclectic entourage involved in it too. You have teammates hating each other on either side, and I mean a lot. I think the only two people who will get along in this match are the Cross.Dressers. You’d thinkI might get along with Assassin. Don’t count on it. The A.K.A. is gone people. I’m Shadow.
Nothing against you bro, but we don’t ride together anymore. I know that we’ve never tagged before. If it’s any consolation to you, I going to win this match for all of us. They will not stand in my way. You see Assassin, the thing I love most about this Standard is the impact it will have on Steve Stryker. I’m not winning this match “to win.” I’m nuking the roster to send the Xtreme Champion a message. So let me ask you, as a friend; think the message is Xtreme enough?
With that in mind I want to make a humble request to my “teammates” tonight: park your little asses in the locker room and leave this to the real monster. If you insist on interjecting yourselves in this match, beware. I don’t have time to tag one of you in just to let everyone down. That’s not what the fans want to see, no they want to see Shadow scorch the earth. They want to see those five Looney Toons running around like Yosemite Sam with his ass on fire. They want to see Michael Lively standing there with his teeth falling out while he waves his little “Rah! Rah! I’m Michael Liverly” flag around like a dunce.
Lively, did I hit you so hard you forgot about me pinning your ass in front of the whole wide world? You’ve been falling faster than Facebook’s stock and Harris chooses to hand the title to you? Well Shane Borderland wasn’t much better a choice and I guess Harris couldn’t stand Carmen having the strap on. I hope you washed that thing, Lord knows where it’s been.
Stefanie, you’re back. I thought I fed your bratwurst to the sharks a long time ago. No matter. I like to think you didn’t go full Memento on us after our No DQ match. Seeing you turn tail and run in the triple threat match made me smile. I didn’t smile because I could hear the crowd chanting “Flee fat ass, flee!” when you abandoned one of your future tag partners. I like knowing that I have enough control to leave my victims with a few brain cells left. You know what I mean, Stefan. Just enough, so that when you see the storm about to strike you haul your happy ass out of the ring and hightail it for the hills.
And you’re up against your own, newly founded, tag team partner. I can only wonder how that will turn out. Then again, I could see you both being on the same page: being beaten by me. That’s right! I warned all of you, stay out of my way, Yarmouth included. Sure this could have been the biggest, most brutal bombardment of bad asses that Meltdown has ever seen, but I just can’t envision us being eye to eye on this one. I understand Yarmouth, you’re angry, you’re mad and you want vengeance. Third time is NOT the charm.
If you’re thinking, “This time will be different,” I fear you I may have left you with fewer brain cells than Peter Griffith after the piano recital. That makes you a pretty big liability. I can’t trust you Yarmouth. You’re still tenderized from going two rounds in the meat grinder last week. Calm down champ. Doctors say you should sit the next few plays out. But, if you insist on coming out to the ring, mark my words you step out of line I’ll hang you and your new tag partner out to dry.
Dante, don’t think I forgot about you in all this. How could I, you did bust me in the jaw last week. Don’t panic. I’m not mad. I distinctly remember telling everyone: “If you ever have a question, feel free to ask me anything at any time.” Dante, NOW I am aware of your existence. I’m not lying when I say I am not angry. There is no reason to be, you followed my example. When I want to ask someone a question, I just go out, find someone who looks like they know more than I do and then I ask them. Sometimes, I ask pretty damn hard.
Dante emulating me makes me sad though, in other ways I mean. It’s saddening to know that Dante wants to be like me. I am not emo, I am not small and I do not let whores like Carmen Rivera do my make. I don’t wear makeup. Dante, I’m not going to ask you anything tonight, I just plan to keep kicking the crap out of you until you finally utilize the third rule of Fight Club.
If I do pin you tonight Dante, will you finally consider this over? I haven’t decided which poor bastard I intend to bury in that ring tonight; but right now, I’m kind of leaning towards you. Now you can panic, Dante.
Krunk, welcome to Hell. I remember what it felt like to be the new upstart on Meltdown that’s thrust into a huge main event tag match with people I don’t know. Look at that! We’re already becoming fast friends. I like making new friends. Did you see what I did to my ‘friend’ Thursday night? Did you see what I did to the rest of the Meltdown roster over the past three months?
Krunk, you’re going to be in the wrong ring, during the wrong match. I won’t apologize for what is going to happen tonight. This is business. Funny though, you’re actually the ONLY opponent I have in this match that I don’t have a beef with. But then I look at everyone you’re tagging with and I’m like, “Eh, what’s one more for the pile?” Johnny D, you’d better contact Monty Python and get them out here to ferry off the bodies when this match is over with.
Who’s left? Oh by the way, Johnny, I’m sorry I have to destroy your roster like this. Oh wait, this next guy isn’t even a Meltdown Megastar. Michael Harris, you’re putting on a referee’s shirt tonight, that’s funny. Well I guess if you’re that crazy and desperate to be near your slut, suiting up as a referee in one of MY matches is the only logical idea out there.
As I come back to Carmen, I need to stress how much distain I have for her. Carmen, you have pissed off A LOT of men in A.P.W. It is my duty to inform you that after the match tonight, we will run a train on your ass. The man who scores the pin fall (me, Ho) will be locomotive. Oh, speaking of that. Harris, since you’re tonight’s designated ring official, I’ll cut you a break, as long as you stay on my good side. And hell Harris, seeing as how I’m such a swell guy, if we’re still cool when this is over I’ll even let you have a crack at her. I just want to shut Carmen up. The other nine guys can split Rivera however they want. Just remember something boys: Bro code article 34: Bros shall never make eye contact in a Devil’s Threeway.
I guess that just leaves the rest of my team. Who else are they lumping in with? Benny Horrowitz, last time I saw that clown his body was fused to the ring mat. I am honestly flabbergasted they found someone with a strong enough stomach to scrape your remains off the canvas. If you thought me making a rag doll out of your ass was us wiping the slate clean, you got another thing coming: my foot.
Horrowitz, we are not friends, we are not buddies. I wouldn’t even accept the charges on a collect call you made, I hope you don’t expect us to coexist. When it comes to you and I Benny, only one of us gets to exist. I suspect you have a problem with me Benny, after the beating I bequeathed to you two weeks back. Your problem is my problem. It is something that could cost you the match. Stay in the locker room.
Young Mannie, I’m sure you’re feeling a similar sting to Yarmouth. It must hurt your pride, coming back to Overdrive after all that time only to leave disappointed. But you’re a pot smoker, you don’t get angry, instead you should be fired for substance abuse. Seeing as that won’t happen, I guess the only “right” decision here is to make your use of marijuana legal. So after tonight, you can smoke all you want Mannie, not that you needed me to tell you. Smoke it up son, if a cop asks just say it’s the only thing that masks the pain, you won’t be lying.
Oh Assassin, you’re probably thinking “Shadow man, calm down, we’re cool.” Sure, personally. But you’re like Krunk in this match, wrong place wrong time. Not only that, I also despise your teammates too. Well except me.
Tonight will be a massacre. In fact, I may need to speak with the U.N. and make sure I don’t break any inalienable human rights laws when I’m finished making a jungle gym out of my opponents and partners. I honestly have good reason to not only hate you all professionally, but I also can find a few reasons why I want to drag each of you down to the depths of Hades, personally. Tonight I am sending a message, one simple statement. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time the reactor goes into meltdown. Chernobyl, Fukushima, they don’t compare to how I will leave Seattle tonight. There will be fallout piled on top of the destruction. The crowd will radiate as they scream for more. Then all will be quiet as they wait for the dust to settle. Nuclear Winter. The storm shall consume the ring and any of them left standing will fall to the cold darkness. Finally when the smoke clears, Seattle will see me towering above the carnage and they will shout, “There stands Shadow, the Usher of Darkness. Look on his works ye mighty and despair!”
*corrected grammer in 4th to last line.
Then things took a turn. Diamond really stepped up his game by booking me in that STD commercial, I mean six man tag match. Seriously, Dita and I both needed delousing after that one. It was on that night I first met Carmen Slut-Diego. The bitch with the gift so nice she tried to give it twice. Carmen had a lot of things going for her recently that recently, not anymore but she did. Some second rate Overdrive referee as her boyfriend, Evan Envi as a girlfriend. The girl even had the strap.....................on, for a while at least. But as we watch this soap opera Carmen calls her life, we realize that with her spiraling downfall the girl is just about finished, like every other former cheerleader who peaked in middle school.
Speaking of finishing things; remember the Rookie Royal? I know I do. None of those guys survived. Well one piggy sizzled a little while longer. Then I flipped his ass out of the frying pan and right into the trash when we were done with him. Carmen, that’s something for you to think on. I’m really good at finishing things and I’ll finish your slutty ass later.
After Diamond decided to make me the official APW sanitation specialist, he felt I needed to tag with Dita again. What people fail to realize is tag matches do not suit me anymore. Look at every tag match I’ve been in since coming back to APW, my partner lets me down. No offense to Dita, but I learned that the only person I can count on is me.
And I proved that I am just as dependable as I am brutal. Ask the American who they can count on: politicians, Tim Tebow, Carrot Top? Hell no, America can depend on Shadow! You can depend on me because for our great country’s two hundred and thirty sixth birthday, I offered up Stefan Raab’s ass on a silver platter. No strike that, it was on a stop sign. Johnny Diamond just keeps jacking up the standard (in a good way). Therefore, every week I have to go bigger and better in order to reach it, so I do. I take things up a notch in every match and look where that landed Stefan Raab. I faced him in my first Xtreme style match since coming back. That match was brutal and despite his underhanded tactics, I still won.
But Johnny wasn’t finished there. He piggybacked on that week’s standard in order to ascend to a new level with the famed triple threat match, which would start false prophet Michael Lively on his road to glory.........holes. Since neither of them was ready, I stepped up to the plate. After Raab walked out on the match to go play with his “Spiders,” I decided to just get it over with. Lively and a bunch of people dogged me for that. I don’t see why they did. I pinned a fellow Hall of Famer, who just so happens to be the current North American Champion. Nothing but diamonds in my book, baby.
So let’s get back to the big Battle Royal. My second exposure with Carmen, I swear the bitch is just like a bad case VD, she just doesn’t go away. Harris, you know all about that don’t you? That Battle Royal reshaped the very foundations of Meltdown, hell I sent two men’s careers to the morgue in that match. Nevertheless, despite my impressive hit list, I still got hypnotized by Rivera’s rack. Sue me. That night was also another first. Dante met his future mistress: Carmen. I think I have a great name for their tag team. “Cross.Dressers.” Hey that’s clever shit, it’s a double pun, you didn’t think of it!
Now that we’ve covered the ancient history, brush up on current events: The Beat the Clock challenge. I know, why would a man who won the Overdrive title in a matter of seconds take his time with a guppy like Dante; because toying with Dante pissed him off more than a simple sodomizing. I took my time. I have to from now on. Just ripping apart the roster isn’t enough anymore. I want to savor the scourge I set upon them, and for seven minutes I was in heaven. Then Dante’s testicles decided to drop. He snaked the win, I’m not mad about that, in fact it makes me smile, because I spent the next week just thinking about the ways I would return the favor.
Which brings us to two weeks ago; Shadow versus Benny, Combe and Dante. It’s rather fitting that your names start with those letters, shows your rating as Megastars. Again I had the opportunity to pulverize the D rated Dante, but instead I just tossed him aside, like I did at the Big Battle Royal and the Beat the Clock challenge. No, I had another slate to clean. Since the Celestial Samurai wanted to extend the olive branch, I had to be diplomatic during our negotiations. Needless to say, I still refused to sign the treaty.
Then I went to Overdrive where I went head to head with some of Meltdown’s top talent. It was the first time I’d truly been pitted against the top tier since that triple threat match. Once again I showed Johnny Diamond just how dependable I am. Yarmouth, and Young Mannie, two of my tag team partners were in that match. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t pin either of ya’ll that night. Then again, I guess I spoke to soon about not pinning Yarmouth.
Are you people seeing a pattern here? They’re like omens, popping up wherever I may be. Overdrive opened the door to Shockwave and while Los Angeles seems so far away, I take solace in the fact Meltdown kicks off in just a couple of hours. Seeing as how we’ve covered the “THEN,” in this little grim fairy tale shall we discuss the “NOW?”
Ten man tag match, interesting and with such an eclectic entourage involved in it too. You have teammates hating each other on either side, and I mean a lot. I think the only two people who will get along in this match are the Cross.Dressers. You’d thinkI might get along with Assassin. Don’t count on it. The A.K.A. is gone people. I’m Shadow.
Nothing against you bro, but we don’t ride together anymore. I know that we’ve never tagged before. If it’s any consolation to you, I going to win this match for all of us. They will not stand in my way. You see Assassin, the thing I love most about this Standard is the impact it will have on Steve Stryker. I’m not winning this match “to win.” I’m nuking the roster to send the Xtreme Champion a message. So let me ask you, as a friend; think the message is Xtreme enough?
With that in mind I want to make a humble request to my “teammates” tonight: park your little asses in the locker room and leave this to the real monster. If you insist on interjecting yourselves in this match, beware. I don’t have time to tag one of you in just to let everyone down. That’s not what the fans want to see, no they want to see Shadow scorch the earth. They want to see those five Looney Toons running around like Yosemite Sam with his ass on fire. They want to see Michael Lively standing there with his teeth falling out while he waves his little “Rah! Rah! I’m Michael Liverly” flag around like a dunce.
Lively, did I hit you so hard you forgot about me pinning your ass in front of the whole wide world? You’ve been falling faster than Facebook’s stock and Harris chooses to hand the title to you? Well Shane Borderland wasn’t much better a choice and I guess Harris couldn’t stand Carmen having the strap on. I hope you washed that thing, Lord knows where it’s been.
Stefanie, you’re back. I thought I fed your bratwurst to the sharks a long time ago. No matter. I like to think you didn’t go full Memento on us after our No DQ match. Seeing you turn tail and run in the triple threat match made me smile. I didn’t smile because I could hear the crowd chanting “Flee fat ass, flee!” when you abandoned one of your future tag partners. I like knowing that I have enough control to leave my victims with a few brain cells left. You know what I mean, Stefan. Just enough, so that when you see the storm about to strike you haul your happy ass out of the ring and hightail it for the hills.
And you’re up against your own, newly founded, tag team partner. I can only wonder how that will turn out. Then again, I could see you both being on the same page: being beaten by me. That’s right! I warned all of you, stay out of my way, Yarmouth included. Sure this could have been the biggest, most brutal bombardment of bad asses that Meltdown has ever seen, but I just can’t envision us being eye to eye on this one. I understand Yarmouth, you’re angry, you’re mad and you want vengeance. Third time is NOT the charm.
If you’re thinking, “This time will be different,” I fear you I may have left you with fewer brain cells than Peter Griffith after the piano recital. That makes you a pretty big liability. I can’t trust you Yarmouth. You’re still tenderized from going two rounds in the meat grinder last week. Calm down champ. Doctors say you should sit the next few plays out. But, if you insist on coming out to the ring, mark my words you step out of line I’ll hang you and your new tag partner out to dry.
Dante, don’t think I forgot about you in all this. How could I, you did bust me in the jaw last week. Don’t panic. I’m not mad. I distinctly remember telling everyone: “If you ever have a question, feel free to ask me anything at any time.” Dante, NOW I am aware of your existence. I’m not lying when I say I am not angry. There is no reason to be, you followed my example. When I want to ask someone a question, I just go out, find someone who looks like they know more than I do and then I ask them. Sometimes, I ask pretty damn hard.
Dante emulating me makes me sad though, in other ways I mean. It’s saddening to know that Dante wants to be like me. I am not emo, I am not small and I do not let whores like Carmen Rivera do my make. I don’t wear makeup. Dante, I’m not going to ask you anything tonight, I just plan to keep kicking the crap out of you until you finally utilize the third rule of Fight Club.
If I do pin you tonight Dante, will you finally consider this over? I haven’t decided which poor bastard I intend to bury in that ring tonight; but right now, I’m kind of leaning towards you. Now you can panic, Dante.
Krunk, welcome to Hell. I remember what it felt like to be the new upstart on Meltdown that’s thrust into a huge main event tag match with people I don’t know. Look at that! We’re already becoming fast friends. I like making new friends. Did you see what I did to my ‘friend’ Thursday night? Did you see what I did to the rest of the Meltdown roster over the past three months?
Krunk, you’re going to be in the wrong ring, during the wrong match. I won’t apologize for what is going to happen tonight. This is business. Funny though, you’re actually the ONLY opponent I have in this match that I don’t have a beef with. But then I look at everyone you’re tagging with and I’m like, “Eh, what’s one more for the pile?” Johnny D, you’d better contact Monty Python and get them out here to ferry off the bodies when this match is over with.
Who’s left? Oh by the way, Johnny, I’m sorry I have to destroy your roster like this. Oh wait, this next guy isn’t even a Meltdown Megastar. Michael Harris, you’re putting on a referee’s shirt tonight, that’s funny. Well I guess if you’re that crazy and desperate to be near your slut, suiting up as a referee in one of MY matches is the only logical idea out there.
As I come back to Carmen, I need to stress how much distain I have for her. Carmen, you have pissed off A LOT of men in A.P.W. It is my duty to inform you that after the match tonight, we will run a train on your ass. The man who scores the pin fall (me, Ho) will be locomotive. Oh, speaking of that. Harris, since you’re tonight’s designated ring official, I’ll cut you a break, as long as you stay on my good side. And hell Harris, seeing as how I’m such a swell guy, if we’re still cool when this is over I’ll even let you have a crack at her. I just want to shut Carmen up. The other nine guys can split Rivera however they want. Just remember something boys: Bro code article 34: Bros shall never make eye contact in a Devil’s Threeway.
I guess that just leaves the rest of my team. Who else are they lumping in with? Benny Horrowitz, last time I saw that clown his body was fused to the ring mat. I am honestly flabbergasted they found someone with a strong enough stomach to scrape your remains off the canvas. If you thought me making a rag doll out of your ass was us wiping the slate clean, you got another thing coming: my foot.
Horrowitz, we are not friends, we are not buddies. I wouldn’t even accept the charges on a collect call you made, I hope you don’t expect us to coexist. When it comes to you and I Benny, only one of us gets to exist. I suspect you have a problem with me Benny, after the beating I bequeathed to you two weeks back. Your problem is my problem. It is something that could cost you the match. Stay in the locker room.
Young Mannie, I’m sure you’re feeling a similar sting to Yarmouth. It must hurt your pride, coming back to Overdrive after all that time only to leave disappointed. But you’re a pot smoker, you don’t get angry, instead you should be fired for substance abuse. Seeing as that won’t happen, I guess the only “right” decision here is to make your use of marijuana legal. So after tonight, you can smoke all you want Mannie, not that you needed me to tell you. Smoke it up son, if a cop asks just say it’s the only thing that masks the pain, you won’t be lying.
Oh Assassin, you’re probably thinking “Shadow man, calm down, we’re cool.” Sure, personally. But you’re like Krunk in this match, wrong place wrong time. Not only that, I also despise your teammates too. Well except me.
Tonight will be a massacre. In fact, I may need to speak with the U.N. and make sure I don’t break any inalienable human rights laws when I’m finished making a jungle gym out of my opponents and partners. I honestly have good reason to not only hate you all professionally, but I also can find a few reasons why I want to drag each of you down to the depths of Hades, personally. Tonight I am sending a message, one simple statement. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time the reactor goes into meltdown. Chernobyl, Fukushima, they don’t compare to how I will leave Seattle tonight. There will be fallout piled on top of the destruction. The crowd will radiate as they scream for more. Then all will be quiet as they wait for the dust to settle. Nuclear Winter. The storm shall consume the ring and any of them left standing will fall to the cold darkness. Finally when the smoke clears, Seattle will see me towering above the carnage and they will shout, “There stands Shadow, the Usher of Darkness. Look on his works ye mighty and despair!”
*corrected grammer in 4th to last line.
