The Man No One Ever Knew

[William Black]

“The man gravity forgot... more like the man no one ever knew. What a peasant.” mutters out William Black who is currently sitting behind a beautiful oak finished desk.

The room that surrounds him while he scrolls through the APW website on his Macbook contains bookcase after bookcase. Vintage books, some that date back to the eighteen hundreds clutter the shelves. It almost looks like the British wrestler has himself a full on library, and judging off of his character, he's probably read every single last one of them. As the multiple bookcases engulf the walls around him, an old fashion globe sits in the corner next to William. However, this is no ordinary globe, it's propped open as a bottle of Scotch sits inside of the circular object paired up with three crystal glasses. The Butler glances over his computer screen as his glasses slide down from the brim of his nose. He then closes his laptop and removes the aforementioned silver glasses from his face and sets them down onto the desk.

“The man I am to beat this week goes by the name of Germaine 'Krunk' Williams. This man goes by a couple nicknames, none of which hold an ounce of relevance while describing him.”, taunts William. “He is a forgotten man, He can blame his recent slump on anything he wants to, but the truth is he simply never had talent on his side. Now, not only is his blatant lack of talent not on his side, but neither is time. You see, Krunk, you're in a bout with me this week and that hasn't been a great situation for any of my last opponents. Do you remember my first match in APW? Hell, I couldn't blame you if you didn't because I barely do. I barely broke a sweat and left three other men battered and humiliated in the ring after a fatal four way extreme rules match. Of course, I had an alias in that match, but none the less, it was the man under the mask who prevailed.”

William pauses mid thought, just long enough to get a sold smirk in. The man feels like he is the absolute best, even though he has only wrestled two matches on Meltdown so far. Granted, he has notched two wins under his column in those two matches, but the man gives himself much more credit than he deserves.

“Then, last week, I had that wanker Donald Deruty sweep in under me and steal MY victory! It doesn't take a man to win a match when someone else has done all the work. That pitiful sack of crap will get what he deserves soon, but you, Krunk, you'll get yours this week. You'll get put in your place again. You'll get another tally under the loss column this week. You'll get made out to be a fool by yours truly, William Black.” boasts The Butler.

The grin that had been mentioned has now grown into a demonic smile. William glances down to the oak desk, taking in all of his finely carved beauty before his attention is snapped back onto his rant.

“Right, now I know a lot of people have been left in the fog as to who I am, so since I'm a good bloke, I'll fill you in. My name is William Black and I had served as a Butler for many years. Most recently, and my for the longest stint in that career, I was serving the Commonswealth family of greater England. I grew to love it there, I really did, but it wasn't satisfying enough. Yes, yes, it's always a good old pat on the ego when people take notice of your work, but it was simply not enough for me anymore. I approached Mister Commonswealth about my dilemma, and he told me that he might actually have some work that would satisfy my needs.” states William. “He knew of my brute background and he also knew I could take care of myself in hand to hand combat, so he sprung it on me. There was this particular family who was causing great issues in his business, going out of their way to put a smudging on his name. Of course, if you were to insult him, I took it as an insult on me as well. So, simply put, he asked me to deal with it. And you're damn right I did! I'm not going to go into great detail, but they got the message and we went on our merry way. The Commonswealth name was restored and I had found something that I had really taken a shining to”

A look of deep thought crosses William's face, perhaps thinking back to what he had done to those people who were smudging the Commonswealth name. He slowly quirks his head to the left as his light brown hair follows suit. Suddenly, an expression of pure rage crosses The Butler's face. It really appears that he is more than ready to literally tear someone's head of. This is the kind of rage you would feel if someone walked up and pissed on your mother's grave. This is the kind of unaltered anger that only a man who feels scorned could muster up. William snaps back to reality, still looking extremely agitated, but a little less “I'm going to tear you into bits”-ish.

“Now, Commonswealth was a natural businessman, a natural leader, a man born to be a gigantic success. I, William Black, am the man who can solve problems. I'm a natural, as you'd say, at this. I'm a natural problem solver, a natural ring strategist, a natural brute who couldn't find the time to get two fucks about what some fizzled out wick thinks of him! Those are examples of pure naturals! This man, Germaine, wants to sit there without having proved anything and call himself 'The Natural' as men like Mister Commonswealth and myself stand proud with our chins held high without getting a lick of the attention this moron receives! It's pitiful, sad really.. I suppose that goes to show you just what Americans are all about. Screw the men who put the work in, we'll cheer for this poor soul because he caters to us like some bloody peasant boy!”

William Black balls up his fists and slams them down onto the oak desk in front of him. The anger had lingered on for too long and the innocent desk just happened to be there to be Black's victim of the moment. That's what he's known for, striking out of the blue. He shares that trait with the ever foul tempered badger, striking at anything that rubs it the wrong way. A few sharp pants later and William has gathered himself emotionally. He sits back in the chair, which he had popped up from to strike the desk, and unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt, letting it sit more comfortably against his neck.

“I apologize for the sudden lapse of control, but sometimes I can't help it... people these days and all.” says The Butler. “Anyway, on to my history once again. I spent years doing specific frowned upon tasks for the Commonswealth family before I stumbled into this old school pub. Inside of said pub, I had myself a couple drinks, but me getting a drink isn't all that happened that night. No, no, it wasn't at all. They had a ring set up as I watched two blokes go at it. Fists, kicks, suplexes, everything you could think of, they threw at each other and neither man looked set to back down. I watched this bout in awe, you see. It was more than likely the most fascinating wrestling match I've ever witnessed. That match alone is what made me pursue a career in the ring. The utter unforgiving factor of each participant had me at the edge of the stool. The match itself must have been, say, an hour long, nothing to be scoffed at these days. Most men in current wrestling find going fifteen minutes at a pay per view to be a grueling match, but they are dead wrong. It does sadden me to see how wrestling has changed over the years, but out of any place I've been, it's gotten the most pathetic in America.”

The Butler sighs and shakes his head after this last sentence. Everyone has to admit that wrestling is simply not what it used to be, it doesn't have that 'it' factor it previously had. Hell, even in the nineties it was still a legitimate interest with the attitude era peaking the whole world's curiosity. In the modern day you try and tell someone that you're a wrestling fan and you get laughed at or treated like you have a mental handicap. None the less, the last statement of William's was strictly right on point. He sits there, in his custom office chair, thinks for a few moments and shakes his head once again.

“I've been in the ring for over a decade at this point and I've watched the wrestling world around me fall. I've also been a part of it's rise, but those days are gone. They're gone... unless I make a change. It's been an uphill battle so far, but once I hit that peak, everything will change. However, I did try this long ago in a federation I will not mention and it's what got my name dragged through the mud like how fans and wrestlers alike have done to this industry. Do I regret this incident? Quite honestly, I do regret what happened, but I know it was for the right cause. The cause of getting wrestling back to wrestling. I am a man of no 'wants', but I am a man of 'needs'. I need to get to the top of APW to show everyone the error in their ways, the missteps of this sport. I am here to correct a problem I didn't cause, and this makes me a martyr. The Wreslting Martyr, that's a pretty interesting title, if I do say so myself, and I think it's one that I definitely deserve. I am what this sport needs, not Mister Krunk. Wrestling needs another Mister Krunk like a hole in the prick.” says William Black.

He chuckles at his last comment, feeling like it was on par with the rest of his sayings. Looking a bit more comfortable with the conversation, William leans back in his chair and kicks up his legs onto his desk. However, this action is done with care and precision, not needing a scuff on his beautiful desk.

“For several years people have called me several names,” says the Butler, “some good and even more just nasty. However, this hasn't stopped me from doing what I believe will be the cause of the greater good. A lot of my history, to you Americans, is yet to be explored or explained, and I'm okay with this fact. I am, after all, the English Enigma, if you will. Yes, yes, I've gathered quite the amount of nicknames over the years. It's almost like a book, really. However, they all fit me, I don't fake what I am unlike someone... but yes, as I said, I will humiliate that poor, confused man, Krunk, this week and make him tap out in the middle of the ring. See, in this business you can pretend to be a lot of things, and he's trying... really hard as a matter of fact, but he just can't seem to get it straight. This will be his downfall. He's athletic, I'll give him that. Hell, I'll go as far as saying he moves a hell of a lot better than I do, but he doesn't have the talent that I possess. You need to get better, and that process needs to happen within these next couple days if you want to stand a chance against me.”

“I'm absolutely certain that you'll hear my words and shrug them off, but I assure you, this is grand advice. You're young, you make mistakes, that will happen, but this is a mistake you cannot afford to make. You won't be remembered just because you lost the the great William Black because, let's face it, that's going to be a long, long list by the time I'm done here. However, if you put up a decent battle, somehow, you'll be remembered as the man that didn't get his career ended by William Black. Honestly, if it were me, I'd pick the second option as the first one, for some reason, doesn't leave a good taste in your mouth. Actually McDonalds leaves a better taste in your mouth, and that's bloody disgusting. Ah, that's a good analogy... I am the fish and chips while you're the McDouble.” jokes William Black.

William, once again, makes himself laugh. This brings down the overall attitude that has been added to the match, but don't be fooled, this will still be, as Jim Ross says, a slobberknocker! It's not that William so much hates his young opponent, Krunk, but he does find himself to be rather insulted that the man will go ahead and give himself the nickname of “the Natural” while men, such as himself, have the God given talent right from the get go, at least he believes that to be true. The English Enigma runs his fingers through his hair and looks back up. He opens his mouth to speak, but pauses as he has found himself doing a decent amount lately. William carefully thinks over what he has to say, not wanting some half arsed sentence to spill out from his lips.

“In closing,” says William, “I will have you know I'm not some pathetic bloke you've fought in the 'hood' or whatever it is you go around saying. I am a man of honor and a true gentlemen with profound beliefs and proper etiquette. You won't find me bathing in un-eanred self righteousness, no, no, that will not be me. However, I will be the man that has his arm raised in victory this next Meltdown. That's a cold, Black promise! Good luck, little man, and hope you stay out of my spotlight from now on. Otherwise, oh my poor sir, you will suffer the consequences and tremble in your un-laced boots!”

The self proclaimed Wrestling Martyr slowly turns his chair. Glorious and harsh sunlight beams in through the window that now sits in front of him. This light gives this most unangelic of men a rather heavenly glow. It reflects off of his hair, causing it to shimmer ever so subtly. A sigh flows from Williams mouth. Without even seeing the man's facial expression you can tell it's one of satisfactory based on the fact he was rather high on himself throughout this whole promo. This segment has flown it's course at this point. William feels like he has said enough and will now prove himself in the ring against a solid opponent, Krunk.
WORDS 2500 or so