The Era of The Englishman

[William Black]

Moments after the competitors of the first match of Meltdown leave the ring...
The crowd is anxiously waiting for the action of this edition of Meltdown to go on and their ears are filled with a welcome sound, somewhat. Action is picking up, that is for sure, however, what kind of action are we talking about here? A familiar theme song chimes out from the speakers, it's Máscara! Though, some fans aren't exactly thrilled with the man since he has been in APW, being perhaps a bit caught up in the moment he has definitely come off as one sketchy guy. A decent chunk of seconds pass with the song Lights Out by POD now kicking up into full tune, however the wrestler is still yet to make his entrance through the drapes. Since the man has only been here one week, some fans don't sense anything unusual due to the fact they have only seen him enter the ring once. On the other hand, some fans already know that something is up, but they can't know for sure what it is at this moment. Out of the blue, the music is cut out by static and then complete silence. At this time you could hear a pin drop. The APW fans have no clue what's going on.
“Sound issues?” says one fan aloud.
Others around him nod, believing that that's what it has to be. However, this temporary lapse in action is met with a new song blasting through the speakers. 'Light It Up' by Rev Theory now begins to pound through the crowd ears as some cheering manages to be heard over the music.There he is! Máscara pops out through the drapes and onto the stage, and it's about time. One of the most mixed reactions he has ever received erupts from the stands. This doesn't seem to phase him in the slightest as he marches down the ramp. He has a Victorian printed robe draped over his shoulders combined with black, lose biker trunks and kick pads with the same print that his robe is made of. This new version of Máscara jumps from the ground onto the ring apron. He wipes his boots on said apron rolls his left leg into the ring while his upper body and other leg follow suit. An official APW microphone had been placed underneath a turnbuckle for Máscara to address the crowd with. He takes notice to the microphone and instantly trots over to it. He then bends over and snatches it up off of the gray canvas as he then stands back up to his full vertical base. Máscara randomly leaps onto the second rope of the turnbuckle and gazes through the crowd. This is met with that same mixed reaction from the crowd. One fan stands out, however, as the backbone of all the heckling. Máscara spots this so called man and points to him before balling his fingers into a fist as he proceeds to smack it against the hand in which he holds the microphone in. This, of course, being a wordless threat to the man. Though, this threat had the man even more roweled up, now cussing uncontrollably at the masked wrestler.
“You wanna be, bum! Even I could kick your fake ass!” screams the man.
Máscara flaps his hands downward as if to say, 'whatever'. After all that nonsense, he hops off of the second rope and walks to the middle of the ring.

“A lot of people have been muttering on and on about how I'm not the same. About how I'm acting, talking, walking, eating, sleeping, sneezing like a man who is trying to hide some deep dark secret. I find this all to be quite a load of bull considering the fact ninety percent of you had no idea who I was until last week.” says Máscara. “I put on the show of a lifetime last week and it was wasted on men who flat out do not deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as I. It makes me absolutely sick that that was my debut bout in this organization. It disturbs me that these men are considered the future of this company.”

Ear drum shattering boos begin to shower down on the masked wrestler as the fans aren't exactly all too pleased about him putting down new talent on the Meltdown roster. Yet again, the heckling doesn't phase Máscara.

“Yes, you can boo, all you Americans can do correctly. It's always he's not good enough, he's not doing enough, I have my trousers on too tight and sand in my twat. Just another thing that makes me sick, being in America. But it's here, it's here that unfortunately has the best wrestling industry in the world. Well, maybe not the best, but definitely the one that pays the most cash to men who have the most talent. That's another thing, talent. It's so difficult to find a bloke with one single ounce of talent around here. Everything that I said before, about bringing a full fledged revolution into the wrestling industry was true. I intend to change what you people think wrestling is. It will change for the better. It will change under new leadership, under better leadership, under MY leadership.” boasts Máscara.

As he has been going on and on over the last couple minutes, he's been pacing back and forth. He seems to be growing impatient, not with the crowd, but just in general. His robe float behind him, bouncing along with every single step. Máscara halts, all motion from the man stops. He looks dead ahead as he then raises the microphone up to his lips. Fans arena wide quiet down, some may not care for the man or what he is saying, but everyone wants to listen, more than likely to know when to boo.

“I'm growing quite tired of all this nonsense, I really am. I'm done with all this ' the mask makes the man' crap because it's not true. A man makes his legacy based off of accomplishments and gold title, how much he is respected, not liked, in the locker room. Tonight all of you will learn who the man behind the mask it. All of you will know who to pay your respect to.” says Máscara.

“What's the sad excuse of a man talking about?! I usually don't care what these men say, but don't dis the mask! I've lived my whole career and most of my life with the mask! There IS a lot of pride that comes with it.” blurts of the APW commentator, Dick Harris, who obviously isn't too pleased about Máscara's lack of respect to masked wrestlers.

Right on cue, The Prince of Masks, or rather the soon to be Former Prince of Masks, tucks the microphone he had been using in between his bicep and the side of his body. He then raises his arms, one hand grasping the front of his mask while the other pulls loose the lacing of the back that holds it tightly against his skull. He continues to loosen the laces of his mask, his former 'identity' and begins to pull it off of his head. The man who formerly went by the ring name Máscara rips the mask off of his head revealing a pasty white face. He throws the mask down to the mat and brings the microphone back up to his mouth. Some fans actually know this man's true identity, while the majority are still in the fog.

“Ahhh, I can breathe! That bloody thing is awfully constricting. Now, on to what you people are all wondering, who I am. Oh, oh, and this, how I made myself looking a bit more, how should I say... Mexican-ish? Bloody spray tan!” yells out the wrestler.

He then brings up his right hand to his chest and rubs, putting a lot of elbow grease into the motion. This reveals the real color of his skin.

“You all fell for it, every single last one of you! Hell, I even fooled management! Let me give you all a brief history of myself. I served as a butler for several years to many wealthy families around the UK. I grew up as a tough street lad, a lad who had to fend for himself before I had found a suitable job as a butler, as I had mentioned. I was simply one HELL of a butler, nothing short of spectacular, as a matter of fact. So, here we are, I stand before you as the same skilled man as you watched and cheered for last week except I bring with me my true identity, my true ego, my true beliefs. But now you need to know the name of your new hero, your new leader... I am William bloody Black, and I'm here, I'm here to takes what's mine. I'm the man who fooled ALL of you! If I wouldn't have had to, there's no bloody way I would have worn that mask for so long. 'Why now?' several of you will ask. Well, that's simple, really... I bought the trust of the Meltdown staff as well as all of you pathetic pieces of redneck trash. It's almost sad how easy it was, just a little spray tan and a mask is good enough for you people to want to cheer on the underdog. Let me tell you, William Black is no underdog, not anymore, I am championship material. I am the man that every man on this roster doesn't want to fight. When they see their name billed next to mine for a bout, they shiver in their American panties. No one, and I will say it again, no one wants to get in the way of the Butler and what should be his. No one will get in the way of this revolution, this uprising of justice and brutal originality. You all sit there getting fatter by shoving your face with some poor quality arena hotdogs while I stand here a specimen of what a real man should look like, how a real man should act, how a man handles himself when he is facing an unfortunate situation. I did what I needed to do to make it into APW and now I will do what I must to take it over. Now I stand here ready to take on these men in the tag match. The era of the Englishmen has begun!” screams William Black.

The former butler uses all his might and bashes the microphone into the mat below him as he stands in the ring waiting for his opponents of the night. Most fans are still in shock of the actions that had just taken place in front of them proven by the silence that had now fallen over the crowd. Next week I'm sure William will go into full detail of just who he is. Until then, however, he remains an unknown to most of the fans, but that will most definitely change with time. William stands there, cocky smirk and all in the middle of the squared circle. He feels, deep down, that any man who steps into the ring with him will leave that same ring with a loss tagged next to their name. He then looks down onto his robe and flicks off a piece of hair from the shoulder seam when another Meltdown megastar's theme music hits the speakers. William looks toward the entrance way, not appearing to be all too amused or interested, but regardless, he is happy this match will finally get underway in a few short moments.

WORDS 1959- had exactly 3000 before I remembered about this being a tag team match lol
SIDE NOTES Got T Marvs permission for this. My contract is mostly updated with new moves, face claim, theme song, so on.