Post by Your JESUS on Jun 11, 2008 19:50:01 GMT -4
In urban nieghborhood of a populated city, on a side street, a group of young boy's are inside a fenced area in the midst of a basketball game. One of the kids who seems to resemble a smaller, younger version of APW's own Sabur has the ball, and breaks away with it heading to the hoop, sliding past one young man, he then passes the ball to another teammate who then lays the ball up for two points. The two young men whoop and holler for they have just tied the game up with their opponents on this cool evening. The court was dimly lit , due to possibly the fact the neighborhood was a little on the trashy side. Just then a car comes ripping down the street catching the attention of the boy's. The vehicle crashes through the fence and the tires lets out a loud ear piercing screech. The door to the car flings open, and out steps for this story our "Bad Guy". Now this "Bad Guy" wears a pair of black jeans, and a rather old and played out t-shirt which is some what out of date, and wouldn't be deemed as relevant anymore. This mans face was rugged, and his cheeks held the shading of a five o clock shadow, while his eyes where covered by a pair of dark sun glasses. His mouth was kept busy by the continuous chomping of a tooth pick, and his hair was rather greasy and shaped in the form of a mullet, which seems to match the out of date t-shirt so maybe the guy is attempting a pattern here or possibly a style. This "Bad Guy" has just interrupted this young mens game, and he definately has their attention as the door to his car slams shut. The shadow this man cast as he walks toward the boy's in the dim lighting is ominous, he then grabs the basketball, bounces it a few times, and then gives it a swift kick out into the street. He then runs his hand across the side of his mullet, which some would think mean business in the front and party in the back, but this guy doesn't seem to be here to party. He then steps close to one of the boys, pulls out his tooth pick leans in close, and speaks the words of a true "Bad Guy"....HEY YO!!!..and then flicks the tooth pick right into the eye of the young kid, then quickly follows it with a right hand sending the boy crashing to the pavement. Two of the other boys run off scared as most young kids are when being attacked by "Bad Guy's". The young version of Sabur does not run, although scared he attempts to do the right thing by helping his friend. The "Bad Guy" notices this gesture of bravery, and walks close to the young Hammer, with a look on his face like he smells fear. The young man hands trembling yet clenched in a fist. The "Bad Guy" noticed this, and stuck his scruffy chin out, and spoke once again. "Go ahead kid take the first shot". The young Hammer then reared back but was caught with a lighting fast right from the "Bad Guy" which in turn bloodied the lip of the young looking Sabur. The little man fells to his knee where he was then punched in the face once again. Now on his back, the stiff boot was driven into the throat of the young man.
The young Hammer looked up at his attacker as he seemed to almost float away and leave consciousness, but he does not fade out of life, no instead this young man is in a place that most are unfamiliar with. It seems like something in a twisted dream, surrounded by red fleshy walls, then they seems to close in on him. Shoving this young man down a water slide like tube, but this fun ride is not furnished with the clear, clean fluid of water like most, instead this one was covered in blood. The man then takes the ride, and hits bottom of what seems like a pit. The young boy then stands and wipes the blood from his eyes in attempt to clear his vision. Hey then spits behind him, trying to free the taste that has plunged into his throat. He makes out the possibilities of three tunnels, and with out even think, almost as if being drawn in by a greater force the young Hammer chooses a tunnel, and begins a journey down dark path. With each step, the young mans foot feels like it's steeping upon a stiff yet spongy substance, and as his eyes focus in a little better, he ganders upon the walls of this tunnel, reaching out to get the sense of texture that surrounds him, but the man can not put a finger on where the hell he is. As his journey continues on, and his confusion gets worse, the air he is breathing in seems fresh, like an air he has never breathed before, a crisp clear, almost perfectly filtered oxygen. With each breath taken, a pounding rings out like a clap of thunder right above his head. The young man doesn't seem to flinch, some people may be on total freak out with what he is in mid process of under going, yet he walks forward as if being summoned. Just ahead the tunnel glows bright red, and the eyes of the young man then lights as if the blood traveling inside his eyes illuminates. The feet of the young Hammer then begin to move at a quicker pace, and the Hammer then starts into a slight jog running for the glow. His pace continues to grow like a piece of equipment being beckoned to move another speed with the turn of a knob. The young Hammer now in full sprint mode, as the glow grows bigger, and bigger with each stride. The glow in the eyes of the Hammer are intensely bright, as his breaths have now come quicker so has the claps of thundering, almost like the beating of a heart. The Hammer then is inches from the glow in mid stride then hits the end of the tunnel as the surface below his feet has run out. The little childish body falls from it's jog, and now plummets into a pool of blood. The young Hammer hit the blood, and his body seemed to paralyze, as the blood filled his nose, seeping down into his throat, and the taste has over come him. The silence over coming him, and with no vision, the Hammer seems calm for a person that would seem to be on the verge of death. The chest of the young man gasps but chokes on blood, and then a clap of thunder rings out in the distance, and then the pool of blood then ripples, shaking his body from side to side. Again another thunder, followed by another, until they speed up like rapid fire, and then the mind of the young Hammer is still, and the body limp, getting tossed back and forth from the violence of blood like a ragging sea. From the view that can be seen the death of the young boy had just occurred, but from another perspective, the one that counts, this young man had just welcomed the blood, welcomed the power, and finally found his heart.
Back in what some would deem the real world, the young man almost totally lifeless with the heal stabbed into his throat, the eyes of the young Hammer then open, and the veins of the little man begin to throb. The veins of the little man then pulse quickly and seem to overfill as the pounding of the heart can be heard. The young man then reaches up and grabs the ankle of the "Bad Guy", and with little effort tosses the evil doer backward onto the blacktop. The young man then gets to his knees, as his shirt begins to rip, not being able to handle what it surrounds. Muscles begin to bulge as the clothing tears to shreds, the skin of the pale young man seems ready to tear as the mass of muscle under neath it violently grows. The now large fist of the Irish Hammer pound the ground beneath him, and then he stands tall almost loving the new found chiseled body, and snarls with a growl.
Incredible Sabur: Sabur SMASH MULLET MAN!!!.....ARGHHH!!!
The now Incredible Sabur jumps forward and crashed down a top the "Bad Guy", not seeming so tough, and possibly out sized by the now hulking Sabur. This evil rugged jobber, then takes out a razor blade, twirls it fast, and then in a quick move swipes at the arm that seems to be bulging with muscle, and to no avail the tiny razor blade doesn't affect the seemingly new super hero.
Incredible Sabur: PUNY STUPID JOBBER THINK RAZOR BLADE CAN HANDLE SABUR...ARGGHHH!!
The Incredible Sabur beats his chest, then punches the ground next mullet locked looser, knocking knocking him off of his feet. The large over muscular hand grasps the ankle of the legs that was earlier choking the life out of the young kid. The man then flings the evil that is this "Bad Guy" sideways, smashing into pole of basketball hoop, then walks out of the court dragging him behind like a caveman dragging his woman to the cave to serve his needs. As they exit the fencing surrounding the court, the Incredible Sabur leaps to the roof of the building across the street, looking down on the car that came screeching in a ruin their game. The Incredible Sabur then holds the limp body of the Mullet Monster, and tosses it down atop the hood of the machine. The hulking man the yells out in fury, then jumps back down into the street, lifting his body from the dented mess that was a car. The veins bulge, and the eyes of the Incredible Sabur rage with fury as he looks at evil in his hands.
Incredible Sabur: SABUR NO LIKE MULLET....SABUR HATE LOOSER.....SABUR FIX ALL PROBLEMS NOW... SABUR RIP APART CHEAP SCOTT HALL....ARRGHHH!!!!
The limp body then gets ripped in two, and is tossed aside as the hulking monster sits there frothing at the mouth, and then sits on the roof of a near by mangled mess of a car, just then the alarm sounds, as the giant man tries to calm down. The ringing sound of the alarm seem to sooth the muscle man, and the sound of the siren ring through the air.
A large muscle bound hand comes out and smashes the alarm clock to get it to shut up.
Sabur then sits up in his bed, body glistening with sweat, and shirtless. A cool breeze can be felt as the window of his hotel room is open, and the curtains flutter through the air making a clapping sound on occasion a the breeze straightens the material. The Hammer the wipes his brow some the sweat doesn't drip in his eyes, he sits up and stretches, then winces in pain.
Sabur: Man my muscles feel like I had a hell of a workout yesterday...hunph.
Sabur then stands in his boxers, and makes his way to the bathroom for his morning duty of shooting gallery with the toilet. Sabur usually wakes up and tries to spell his name in the water, with his personal water rocket that god blessed him with. That has been a morning ritual for the life of the Irish Hammer since he was trained in the arts of potty. After the morning shoot out with the true throne of Kaos, the Irish Hammer then walks out of the bathroom feeling perfect, and like he has had a rebirth after evening of rest. He starts flexing his muscles, and then smiles as he seems like the power deep inside him has giving him a new life. The Hammer then turns on the TV to catch the Today show, and there on the screen is a vignette of "Where in the World is Matt Laurer". Sabur sits there watching this well produced piece of trash that NBC has strung together to promote the travels of the thin, rather queer Matt Laurer. Sabur then feels a bit of rage begin to flow through his body, then his chest thumps as he can feel the beating of his heart. Sabur then stands and looks into the mirror recalling the dream he had. How he became some crazy hulk like creature, and ripped apart a knife wielding retard, then he smiled back at his reflection. Sabur then gathers his things and heads out for the venue of tonights OVERDRIVE.
Later on at the arena Sabur walks backstage with gear in hand, where he is met by an online reporter for one of the many wrestling websites that litter the cyber universe. The man shoves a recorder in the face of Sabur, as he walks on, the man berates Sabur with questions of last weeks OVERDRIVE. Sabur then stops, as the beating of his new found heart can be felt. Now in most cases the discovery of a heart may bring compassion, or courage, not in this case. Sabur closes his eyes as the blood runs through his veins, and he almost can feel it travel along on it's journey through his body, almost as if he had traveled the very veins and arteries. Then in a instant the Irish Hammers eyes snap open with rage, and he quickly has placed his face directly in the man that bothers him with questions, a deep breath is taken as the air enters the lungs, Sabur then speaks.
Sabur: Now I walked along with obviously no comment for you, yet you still persisted to badger me. Now some might say that is determination, and a will to get the job done, and a crazy drive, and passion for journalism. Me though on the other hand, question your sanity, I mean taking my self out of body and giving this situation a third point of view. Looking down a small guy your size, jamming a recorder in the face of a man my size, is stupidity at it's best. Then when the question is not then answered, you continue on, so now ask your self, why do you think the human wrecking machine, the man beast, and most massive form of muscle in all of wrestling, that easily didn't want to talk, has now stopped, has put the brakes on his walk, and is missing what ever it was that he was on his way to.
The man then trembles with fear, knowing Sabur's uncanny nature for attacking the Un-trained Wrestler types that seem to stand around in the backstage area, and then with a quivering voice that has a crack in it with his first attempt to answer that question. The reporter then clears his throat an responds.
Reporter: Well I guess you stopped because I didn't stop, and right about now you will be leveling me with a Lager Liner, and if my head is still attached to my torso you will then hoist me up, and then spin me around for a House of Pain, leaving my body broken, then possibly breaking my recorder to match the state of my bones.
Sabur smiles at the man with an evil devilish grin, then shakes his head no when that evil smirk then morphs into serious look of blood thirst.
Sabur: In some case that response may have been right on the money, but in this case I'm simply stopping to tell that I can not answer questions about last weeks show to any other web site reporters than APW online.
Now witt a look of overwhelming relief like a criminal just receiving a Not Guilty verdict from a jury. He then smiles at the Man Beast, and thanks him. Sabur turns to walk away, as the man then speaks again.
Reporter: Thanks Sabur...I think you a stand up guy...
Sabur then lets the bag slide off of his right shoulder catching the strap with his hand, and in a snap of quickness Sabur then turns rapidly flinging the bag around as it crashes into the side of the head of the reporter knocking him down. Sabur the walks over to the reporter, and picks him up by his Donna Karen belt, and places him on his feet. Sabur then smirks, and does the very thing the man foresighted earlier, and with the breaking of the recorder, Sabur then bends over whispering in the mans ear.
Sabur: I couldn't let you leave with that audio, and I figured I'd give you something to write about on your fancy website. You see the Irish Hammer for the last couple of weeks has been running fast and loose, coming into the corners hot, with no one at the wheel. Well last week I grabbed a hold of that steering wheel, ripped out the cruise control, and am in full piloting of this here massive vehicle. So if you want substance, or things to blog about, now well after you get out of the hospital, you'll have some fresh material, cause Sabur always gives plenty to talk about.
Sabur then picks up his bag, and then slings it back over his shoulder as he then walks on in his direction before he was interrupted. He then comes upon a locker room door that reads Sabur. He stops looking at the sign to most people would be just a sign. Sabur didn't gaze upon the sign with an ego for he loved to stare at his own name, he looked at it for the locker room had had shared for the past months has read Rev-X, and then S&V-X, now it just reads Sabur. Before the Man Beast of APW had joined forces with Razor, and former friend Michael Lively to take on the force that plagued the APW Sex and Violence, or the band of Blackwell as some would cal it. The like most dominant stables, filled with talent and ego, someones head gets bigger than the other, then you have the formation of another stable, and then it's war. Well it seems as of now the general of Sabur's army has been injured, and the army has dispersed, some jumping ship, while others have just fallen off. Well this warrior of the ring, has found refuge for now, and will continue the fight on a smaller level, and rage on destroying what ever, when ever need be, and with that final thought Sabur finished looking upon his name plate and then entered his locker room. He plopped down in a chair, as his bag fell beside him. He looked around the emptiness of his locker room, and thoughts swirled again. Thoughts of min-midgets, and hopeful new high flyers, and the disdain, and scowl of Trevor, while the Extremist always sat angered at the fact that he shared the same space as Sabur. Possibly it was jealousy for the size, and sheer rip-mess, and cut of Sabur's muscles, or maybe just the fact that his brother Trevor had taken him under his wing. Tony seems like he loves success in this business like we all do, but had an air about him that possibly his very own flesh and blood would groom me into a killer, like Tony, a destroyer, like Tony, and possibly with my own natural talent, Sabur would become better then Tony, and it was as if Tony could smell that brewing in the air. Sabur then snapped back into reality, and began to lace up his boots, the pulls out a roll of tape for his wrists, and remembers back in high school. The feeling as he sat in the back locker room close to the gymnasium just prior to heading out for a wrestling meet, and how that feeling of nerve, couldn't prepare a single kid sitting in that locker room for what it would be like to enter an arena jam packed with fans, that may love you or hate you. It couldn't prepare you for the battle that will take place between the ropes, and the heat of the lights that hang above you head as you entertain thousands, and again Sabur snaps back into it again, looking at the locker room door, as if waiting for it to open, but it will not open, right now he has no friends in this business, and no allies, and the only man watching his back is the one in the room with him. Sabur looks around seeing the emptiness, and smirks, as he then tapes up his wrists preparing for battle. Reaches in the bag pulling out his new Irish Hammer shirt. He holds it up looking at it with pride, then turns it around to read the words lining the shoulders "Nailing Down the Competition". Sabur then thinks to himself that APW lining them selves up with PhateCo. was the best merch decision to ever be made, and he then pulls it over his head, and straighten it down over is massive body. The shirt although a 2X it seems as if it has been molded to the body of the man beast. Sabur stands and begins stretching for this evenings battle, and clears his mind for the promo that will be soon shooting. Sabur thinks to himself about the series of event that have transpired in the past few weeks, and then smirks once again, as he stands and exits the locker room, slamming the door behind him. Right outside the locker room door some whispering between Sabur and someone else is heard as then the whispering then ends.
Awhile later the technical crew and Sabur are in the midst of talking and then the their discussion comes to a close as Sabur then walks off. Then out in the arena the lights goes out as the fans pop for the universal signal that the show is back and somethings a brewing. The fans simmer down a little as the intro of Saburs them music hits and the lights start flickering, the fans go into an uproar for the man they knows as Sabur. The camera is locked on the entrance ramp, and still no entrance as the music continues. Then the pop from a section in the arena can be heard, as the voice of the resident Irish Hammer then speaks.
Sabur: What up Little Rock.....
The fans respond to the voice of their muscle clad hero. He stand among the crowd in the upper section of the rather cheap seats in the arena. The camera zooms in on Sabur once they have locked their sights on him. The fans surrounding the man are in a frenzy not expecting that in those very seat to have any sort of fan interaction, and once again Sabur the man of the people, has come through. Sabur holds his large arms outward as he is overwhelmed with pats on the back, and slaps to the muscular chest. Sabur then pulls the mic forward and speaks.
Sabur: Thats right....no longer will you see me in that ring, unless it's during a match, no...no...this is a more original Sabur, one who from this poi nt on cuts promos everywhere but in that ring, and now these lucky fans in section 217....oh shit....who has a tissue, I'm getting a nose bleed.
Sabur looks around holding his nose, as a fan obliges the Irish Hammer, and Sabur jokingly wipes his nose clean.
Sabur: Sorry, gotta keep this nose clean, never could this nose be accused of having brown stains, anyways you fans are probably waiting for a promo...who wants me to cut a promo, live in the crowd....
The fans once again erupt with cheers for their favorite man of muscle.
Sabur: Well it's not going to happen, you see I'm cutting a promo at the nacho stand just outside section 217, so on your marks...get set......HO!!!!
Fans all around the arena start scrambling out of their seats to meet Sabur there as the big man laughs, and then holds the mic up to beckon them to stop.
Sabur: No...I said HO...and you people thought I said go.....uh you kill me, just I'm talking about the way our world champion made his new bride look like on their honey moon, alright go.....
Sabur then walks down the stairs and around the corner to the entrance way back to the concourse level of the arena, as fans around the place scramble out trying to be on TV, and close to one of their favorite wrestlers. The fans are gathered around the nacho stand then parts as the man beast makes his way through the crowd. Sabur walks up to the nacho stand.
Sabur: Super Nachos, hold the Jalapenos, they'll fuck up my stomach during the match, and a large Coke....and what ever these people want....
Some fans then start ordering like you where handing out buckets of million dollar bills. Sabur holds the mic up as the camera has a view of him in the sea of humanity that he has created. Sabur smirks and then continues.
Sabur: You see last night I had a dream, a dream that frankly I won't get into to may details with you people cause we are limited on time, ahhhh....fuck it...alright I was a giant hulk like fucking bad ass Sabur, and I ripped apart....nevermind who, lets just say I got rid off some baggage in my dream, and in my real life. The dream...helped me realize that basically I was still a child, running around in a grown world, and lets just say I found my heart, and well rid my personal life of Bad Guy's...
The fans around Sabur begin cheering for the human beast of muscle.
Sabur: Yes I have found my heart, and this my friends is no normal heart, it is black as night, and beats with a fury. This heart loves destruction, and begs for mayhem, and it supplies my body with the rancid, hateful blood, all for the sake of you people, all for the sake of my career. I am the human wrecking machine, and I have found my inner my inner killer. Unfortunately on the people here that are signed to contracts in the APW, well I hope you have insurance. You see I don't care if you have a family, it' will make no difference to me your wife, and child are sitting ringside, or watching on the monitors backstage, if your are brave enough to enter that ring, which has now been deemed a war zone in my heart, then when your wheeled to the back, or rushed to an ER with limbs missing, it's on you. You see in that war zone you will not be thought of as a hero, you will not be hoisted high with honor, no when you face off against me in that sacred ground now known as the House of Pain, you will have no choice but to feel the cliche'. The pain will overcome you, and the destruction will batter you, and I will have no mercy for there is no place for that in my war zone. A simple thought will be the only thing running through my head, and it will be on repeat as if a record was skipping on the turntable know as my brain. KILL and DESTROY!!!, that will be all that goes through my head until the bell rings, and the fury is calmed down. You see I have found my heart, and embraced it. The heart speaks to me with each passing thump, telling me how great I am, letting my know my potential, and screaming out to me to claim what is mine.....
The fans around Sabur break into a chant of his name, as the Human Wrecking Machine holds his finger to his lips as if shoos hing the crowd.
Sabur: And that ring is mine, although tonight I wish it was me versus the Bad Guy one on one...that is the match I wish to be involved in this evening, yet it seems that will be on a later date, possibly on a different event with a grander scale. No on this evening I team with Tony Blackwell...a man that is known to disgust me and everything I am...well jealousy will do that sort of thing to ya. You see it takes a lot of discipline, dieting, supplements, and hours in the gym to hold physique like Mr. Blackwell does, yet after all of that when he strolls into the locker room, and stand beside me he seems like just another cut man, and holds no super hero qualities next this genetic freak, and if thats not bad enough....my other partner..is a quiter...a resurrected John Green, well the only thing resurrected about John Green is his status, he no longer sits atop the mountain, and holds the "Over" status, he is no real power player, and now the three of us, that have never seen eye to eye, must act as one, a cohesive unit, and battle three out of the four Test tournament contenders.
Sabur then pauses to munch on a cheesy chip of goodness, and then washes it down with the refreshment of carbonated cola. Sabur then holds the mic up and continues on his unorthodox promo among the fans in section 217.
Sabur: Well on this evening I may not be in the match that I want, I may not have the partners that I want, but I do have some excellent nachos, and later when the bells rings, there will be three men standing across from me in my house. Phate this man has all the potential to sweep the tourney, and walk right into a title shot, and possibly achieve that goal, but on this evening he has to contend with me, and well I know his potential, and don't fear it one bit. Victor Brander, well this man is a lone wolf, and I think I could learn a lot from the likes of someone like him, but unfortunately he to will be trespassing in the House of Pain. Last but not least a real sleeper, Austin Daniels, the so called Hybrid wrestler, well whether your a hybrid, or friendly to the environment, you treading on my property later, and for that you too will be dealt the same fate as all the rest. I'm coming to dose out the pain fellas, and you the fans.
Looking out to the sea of APW faithful surrounding him, with his arms outstretched.
Sabur: It will all be for your pleasure, the blood, the pain, the limbs stacked high, you see this Irish Hammer has just lightened up his load, and the baggage that was dragging me down, has been dropped, and the fresh clear minded Sabur has come to do what I have been needing to do since my arrival, and well so it begins.
Sabur wipes his faces with a napkin, then grabs his grub and strolls off away from the madness that has become section 217.
The young Hammer looked up at his attacker as he seemed to almost float away and leave consciousness, but he does not fade out of life, no instead this young man is in a place that most are unfamiliar with. It seems like something in a twisted dream, surrounded by red fleshy walls, then they seems to close in on him. Shoving this young man down a water slide like tube, but this fun ride is not furnished with the clear, clean fluid of water like most, instead this one was covered in blood. The man then takes the ride, and hits bottom of what seems like a pit. The young boy then stands and wipes the blood from his eyes in attempt to clear his vision. Hey then spits behind him, trying to free the taste that has plunged into his throat. He makes out the possibilities of three tunnels, and with out even think, almost as if being drawn in by a greater force the young Hammer chooses a tunnel, and begins a journey down dark path. With each step, the young mans foot feels like it's steeping upon a stiff yet spongy substance, and as his eyes focus in a little better, he ganders upon the walls of this tunnel, reaching out to get the sense of texture that surrounds him, but the man can not put a finger on where the hell he is. As his journey continues on, and his confusion gets worse, the air he is breathing in seems fresh, like an air he has never breathed before, a crisp clear, almost perfectly filtered oxygen. With each breath taken, a pounding rings out like a clap of thunder right above his head. The young man doesn't seem to flinch, some people may be on total freak out with what he is in mid process of under going, yet he walks forward as if being summoned. Just ahead the tunnel glows bright red, and the eyes of the young man then lights as if the blood traveling inside his eyes illuminates. The feet of the young Hammer then begin to move at a quicker pace, and the Hammer then starts into a slight jog running for the glow. His pace continues to grow like a piece of equipment being beckoned to move another speed with the turn of a knob. The young Hammer now in full sprint mode, as the glow grows bigger, and bigger with each stride. The glow in the eyes of the Hammer are intensely bright, as his breaths have now come quicker so has the claps of thundering, almost like the beating of a heart. The Hammer then is inches from the glow in mid stride then hits the end of the tunnel as the surface below his feet has run out. The little childish body falls from it's jog, and now plummets into a pool of blood. The young Hammer hit the blood, and his body seemed to paralyze, as the blood filled his nose, seeping down into his throat, and the taste has over come him. The silence over coming him, and with no vision, the Hammer seems calm for a person that would seem to be on the verge of death. The chest of the young man gasps but chokes on blood, and then a clap of thunder rings out in the distance, and then the pool of blood then ripples, shaking his body from side to side. Again another thunder, followed by another, until they speed up like rapid fire, and then the mind of the young Hammer is still, and the body limp, getting tossed back and forth from the violence of blood like a ragging sea. From the view that can be seen the death of the young boy had just occurred, but from another perspective, the one that counts, this young man had just welcomed the blood, welcomed the power, and finally found his heart.
Back in what some would deem the real world, the young man almost totally lifeless with the heal stabbed into his throat, the eyes of the young Hammer then open, and the veins of the little man begin to throb. The veins of the little man then pulse quickly and seem to overfill as the pounding of the heart can be heard. The young man then reaches up and grabs the ankle of the "Bad Guy", and with little effort tosses the evil doer backward onto the blacktop. The young man then gets to his knees, as his shirt begins to rip, not being able to handle what it surrounds. Muscles begin to bulge as the clothing tears to shreds, the skin of the pale young man seems ready to tear as the mass of muscle under neath it violently grows. The now large fist of the Irish Hammer pound the ground beneath him, and then he stands tall almost loving the new found chiseled body, and snarls with a growl.
Incredible Sabur: Sabur SMASH MULLET MAN!!!.....ARGHHH!!!
The now Incredible Sabur jumps forward and crashed down a top the "Bad Guy", not seeming so tough, and possibly out sized by the now hulking Sabur. This evil rugged jobber, then takes out a razor blade, twirls it fast, and then in a quick move swipes at the arm that seems to be bulging with muscle, and to no avail the tiny razor blade doesn't affect the seemingly new super hero.
Incredible Sabur: PUNY STUPID JOBBER THINK RAZOR BLADE CAN HANDLE SABUR...ARGGHHH!!
The Incredible Sabur beats his chest, then punches the ground next mullet locked looser, knocking knocking him off of his feet. The large over muscular hand grasps the ankle of the legs that was earlier choking the life out of the young kid. The man then flings the evil that is this "Bad Guy" sideways, smashing into pole of basketball hoop, then walks out of the court dragging him behind like a caveman dragging his woman to the cave to serve his needs. As they exit the fencing surrounding the court, the Incredible Sabur leaps to the roof of the building across the street, looking down on the car that came screeching in a ruin their game. The Incredible Sabur then holds the limp body of the Mullet Monster, and tosses it down atop the hood of the machine. The hulking man the yells out in fury, then jumps back down into the street, lifting his body from the dented mess that was a car. The veins bulge, and the eyes of the Incredible Sabur rage with fury as he looks at evil in his hands.
Incredible Sabur: SABUR NO LIKE MULLET....SABUR HATE LOOSER.....SABUR FIX ALL PROBLEMS NOW... SABUR RIP APART CHEAP SCOTT HALL....ARRGHHH!!!!
The limp body then gets ripped in two, and is tossed aside as the hulking monster sits there frothing at the mouth, and then sits on the roof of a near by mangled mess of a car, just then the alarm sounds, as the giant man tries to calm down. The ringing sound of the alarm seem to sooth the muscle man, and the sound of the siren ring through the air.
BURR...BURRR.BUURR....BURRR......
BURR...
Burr.......
Burr......
A large muscle bound hand comes out and smashes the alarm clock to get it to shut up.
Sabur then sits up in his bed, body glistening with sweat, and shirtless. A cool breeze can be felt as the window of his hotel room is open, and the curtains flutter through the air making a clapping sound on occasion a the breeze straightens the material. The Hammer the wipes his brow some the sweat doesn't drip in his eyes, he sits up and stretches, then winces in pain.
Sabur: Man my muscles feel like I had a hell of a workout yesterday...hunph.
Sabur then stands in his boxers, and makes his way to the bathroom for his morning duty of shooting gallery with the toilet. Sabur usually wakes up and tries to spell his name in the water, with his personal water rocket that god blessed him with. That has been a morning ritual for the life of the Irish Hammer since he was trained in the arts of potty. After the morning shoot out with the true throne of Kaos, the Irish Hammer then walks out of the bathroom feeling perfect, and like he has had a rebirth after evening of rest. He starts flexing his muscles, and then smiles as he seems like the power deep inside him has giving him a new life. The Hammer then turns on the TV to catch the Today show, and there on the screen is a vignette of "Where in the World is Matt Laurer". Sabur sits there watching this well produced piece of trash that NBC has strung together to promote the travels of the thin, rather queer Matt Laurer. Sabur then feels a bit of rage begin to flow through his body, then his chest thumps as he can feel the beating of his heart. Sabur then stands and looks into the mirror recalling the dream he had. How he became some crazy hulk like creature, and ripped apart a knife wielding retard, then he smiled back at his reflection. Sabur then gathers his things and heads out for the venue of tonights OVERDRIVE.
Later on at the arena Sabur walks backstage with gear in hand, where he is met by an online reporter for one of the many wrestling websites that litter the cyber universe. The man shoves a recorder in the face of Sabur, as he walks on, the man berates Sabur with questions of last weeks OVERDRIVE. Sabur then stops, as the beating of his new found heart can be felt. Now in most cases the discovery of a heart may bring compassion, or courage, not in this case. Sabur closes his eyes as the blood runs through his veins, and he almost can feel it travel along on it's journey through his body, almost as if he had traveled the very veins and arteries. Then in a instant the Irish Hammers eyes snap open with rage, and he quickly has placed his face directly in the man that bothers him with questions, a deep breath is taken as the air enters the lungs, Sabur then speaks.
Sabur: Now I walked along with obviously no comment for you, yet you still persisted to badger me. Now some might say that is determination, and a will to get the job done, and a crazy drive, and passion for journalism. Me though on the other hand, question your sanity, I mean taking my self out of body and giving this situation a third point of view. Looking down a small guy your size, jamming a recorder in the face of a man my size, is stupidity at it's best. Then when the question is not then answered, you continue on, so now ask your self, why do you think the human wrecking machine, the man beast, and most massive form of muscle in all of wrestling, that easily didn't want to talk, has now stopped, has put the brakes on his walk, and is missing what ever it was that he was on his way to.
The man then trembles with fear, knowing Sabur's uncanny nature for attacking the Un-trained Wrestler types that seem to stand around in the backstage area, and then with a quivering voice that has a crack in it with his first attempt to answer that question. The reporter then clears his throat an responds.
Reporter: Well I guess you stopped because I didn't stop, and right about now you will be leveling me with a Lager Liner, and if my head is still attached to my torso you will then hoist me up, and then spin me around for a House of Pain, leaving my body broken, then possibly breaking my recorder to match the state of my bones.
Sabur smiles at the man with an evil devilish grin, then shakes his head no when that evil smirk then morphs into serious look of blood thirst.
Sabur: In some case that response may have been right on the money, but in this case I'm simply stopping to tell that I can not answer questions about last weeks show to any other web site reporters than APW online.
Now witt a look of overwhelming relief like a criminal just receiving a Not Guilty verdict from a jury. He then smiles at the Man Beast, and thanks him. Sabur turns to walk away, as the man then speaks again.
Reporter: Thanks Sabur...I think you a stand up guy...
Sabur then lets the bag slide off of his right shoulder catching the strap with his hand, and in a snap of quickness Sabur then turns rapidly flinging the bag around as it crashes into the side of the head of the reporter knocking him down. Sabur the walks over to the reporter, and picks him up by his Donna Karen belt, and places him on his feet. Sabur then smirks, and does the very thing the man foresighted earlier, and with the breaking of the recorder, Sabur then bends over whispering in the mans ear.
Sabur: I couldn't let you leave with that audio, and I figured I'd give you something to write about on your fancy website. You see the Irish Hammer for the last couple of weeks has been running fast and loose, coming into the corners hot, with no one at the wheel. Well last week I grabbed a hold of that steering wheel, ripped out the cruise control, and am in full piloting of this here massive vehicle. So if you want substance, or things to blog about, now well after you get out of the hospital, you'll have some fresh material, cause Sabur always gives plenty to talk about.
Sabur then picks up his bag, and then slings it back over his shoulder as he then walks on in his direction before he was interrupted. He then comes upon a locker room door that reads Sabur. He stops looking at the sign to most people would be just a sign. Sabur didn't gaze upon the sign with an ego for he loved to stare at his own name, he looked at it for the locker room had had shared for the past months has read Rev-X, and then S&V-X, now it just reads Sabur. Before the Man Beast of APW had joined forces with Razor, and former friend Michael Lively to take on the force that plagued the APW Sex and Violence, or the band of Blackwell as some would cal it. The like most dominant stables, filled with talent and ego, someones head gets bigger than the other, then you have the formation of another stable, and then it's war. Well it seems as of now the general of Sabur's army has been injured, and the army has dispersed, some jumping ship, while others have just fallen off. Well this warrior of the ring, has found refuge for now, and will continue the fight on a smaller level, and rage on destroying what ever, when ever need be, and with that final thought Sabur finished looking upon his name plate and then entered his locker room. He plopped down in a chair, as his bag fell beside him. He looked around the emptiness of his locker room, and thoughts swirled again. Thoughts of min-midgets, and hopeful new high flyers, and the disdain, and scowl of Trevor, while the Extremist always sat angered at the fact that he shared the same space as Sabur. Possibly it was jealousy for the size, and sheer rip-mess, and cut of Sabur's muscles, or maybe just the fact that his brother Trevor had taken him under his wing. Tony seems like he loves success in this business like we all do, but had an air about him that possibly his very own flesh and blood would groom me into a killer, like Tony, a destroyer, like Tony, and possibly with my own natural talent, Sabur would become better then Tony, and it was as if Tony could smell that brewing in the air. Sabur then snapped back into reality, and began to lace up his boots, the pulls out a roll of tape for his wrists, and remembers back in high school. The feeling as he sat in the back locker room close to the gymnasium just prior to heading out for a wrestling meet, and how that feeling of nerve, couldn't prepare a single kid sitting in that locker room for what it would be like to enter an arena jam packed with fans, that may love you or hate you. It couldn't prepare you for the battle that will take place between the ropes, and the heat of the lights that hang above you head as you entertain thousands, and again Sabur snaps back into it again, looking at the locker room door, as if waiting for it to open, but it will not open, right now he has no friends in this business, and no allies, and the only man watching his back is the one in the room with him. Sabur looks around seeing the emptiness, and smirks, as he then tapes up his wrists preparing for battle. Reaches in the bag pulling out his new Irish Hammer shirt. He holds it up looking at it with pride, then turns it around to read the words lining the shoulders "Nailing Down the Competition". Sabur then thinks to himself that APW lining them selves up with PhateCo. was the best merch decision to ever be made, and he then pulls it over his head, and straighten it down over is massive body. The shirt although a 2X it seems as if it has been molded to the body of the man beast. Sabur stands and begins stretching for this evenings battle, and clears his mind for the promo that will be soon shooting. Sabur thinks to himself about the series of event that have transpired in the past few weeks, and then smirks once again, as he stands and exits the locker room, slamming the door behind him. Right outside the locker room door some whispering between Sabur and someone else is heard as then the whispering then ends.
Awhile later the technical crew and Sabur are in the midst of talking and then the their discussion comes to a close as Sabur then walks off. Then out in the arena the lights goes out as the fans pop for the universal signal that the show is back and somethings a brewing. The fans simmer down a little as the intro of Saburs them music hits and the lights start flickering, the fans go into an uproar for the man they knows as Sabur. The camera is locked on the entrance ramp, and still no entrance as the music continues. Then the pop from a section in the arena can be heard, as the voice of the resident Irish Hammer then speaks.
Sabur: What up Little Rock.....
The fans respond to the voice of their muscle clad hero. He stand among the crowd in the upper section of the rather cheap seats in the arena. The camera zooms in on Sabur once they have locked their sights on him. The fans surrounding the man are in a frenzy not expecting that in those very seat to have any sort of fan interaction, and once again Sabur the man of the people, has come through. Sabur holds his large arms outward as he is overwhelmed with pats on the back, and slaps to the muscular chest. Sabur then pulls the mic forward and speaks.
Sabur: Thats right....no longer will you see me in that ring, unless it's during a match, no...no...this is a more original Sabur, one who from this poi nt on cuts promos everywhere but in that ring, and now these lucky fans in section 217....oh shit....who has a tissue, I'm getting a nose bleed.
Sabur looks around holding his nose, as a fan obliges the Irish Hammer, and Sabur jokingly wipes his nose clean.
Sabur: Sorry, gotta keep this nose clean, never could this nose be accused of having brown stains, anyways you fans are probably waiting for a promo...who wants me to cut a promo, live in the crowd....
The fans once again erupt with cheers for their favorite man of muscle.
Sabur: Well it's not going to happen, you see I'm cutting a promo at the nacho stand just outside section 217, so on your marks...get set......HO!!!!
Fans all around the arena start scrambling out of their seats to meet Sabur there as the big man laughs, and then holds the mic up to beckon them to stop.
Sabur: No...I said HO...and you people thought I said go.....uh you kill me, just I'm talking about the way our world champion made his new bride look like on their honey moon, alright go.....
Sabur then walks down the stairs and around the corner to the entrance way back to the concourse level of the arena, as fans around the place scramble out trying to be on TV, and close to one of their favorite wrestlers. The fans are gathered around the nacho stand then parts as the man beast makes his way through the crowd. Sabur walks up to the nacho stand.
Sabur: Super Nachos, hold the Jalapenos, they'll fuck up my stomach during the match, and a large Coke....and what ever these people want....
Some fans then start ordering like you where handing out buckets of million dollar bills. Sabur holds the mic up as the camera has a view of him in the sea of humanity that he has created. Sabur smirks and then continues.
Sabur: You see last night I had a dream, a dream that frankly I won't get into to may details with you people cause we are limited on time, ahhhh....fuck it...alright I was a giant hulk like fucking bad ass Sabur, and I ripped apart....nevermind who, lets just say I got rid off some baggage in my dream, and in my real life. The dream...helped me realize that basically I was still a child, running around in a grown world, and lets just say I found my heart, and well rid my personal life of Bad Guy's...
The fans around Sabur begin cheering for the human beast of muscle.
Sabur: Yes I have found my heart, and this my friends is no normal heart, it is black as night, and beats with a fury. This heart loves destruction, and begs for mayhem, and it supplies my body with the rancid, hateful blood, all for the sake of you people, all for the sake of my career. I am the human wrecking machine, and I have found my inner my inner killer. Unfortunately on the people here that are signed to contracts in the APW, well I hope you have insurance. You see I don't care if you have a family, it' will make no difference to me your wife, and child are sitting ringside, or watching on the monitors backstage, if your are brave enough to enter that ring, which has now been deemed a war zone in my heart, then when your wheeled to the back, or rushed to an ER with limbs missing, it's on you. You see in that war zone you will not be thought of as a hero, you will not be hoisted high with honor, no when you face off against me in that sacred ground now known as the House of Pain, you will have no choice but to feel the cliche'. The pain will overcome you, and the destruction will batter you, and I will have no mercy for there is no place for that in my war zone. A simple thought will be the only thing running through my head, and it will be on repeat as if a record was skipping on the turntable know as my brain. KILL and DESTROY!!!, that will be all that goes through my head until the bell rings, and the fury is calmed down. You see I have found my heart, and embraced it. The heart speaks to me with each passing thump, telling me how great I am, letting my know my potential, and screaming out to me to claim what is mine.....
The fans around Sabur break into a chant of his name, as the Human Wrecking Machine holds his finger to his lips as if shoos hing the crowd.
Sabur: And that ring is mine, although tonight I wish it was me versus the Bad Guy one on one...that is the match I wish to be involved in this evening, yet it seems that will be on a later date, possibly on a different event with a grander scale. No on this evening I team with Tony Blackwell...a man that is known to disgust me and everything I am...well jealousy will do that sort of thing to ya. You see it takes a lot of discipline, dieting, supplements, and hours in the gym to hold physique like Mr. Blackwell does, yet after all of that when he strolls into the locker room, and stand beside me he seems like just another cut man, and holds no super hero qualities next this genetic freak, and if thats not bad enough....my other partner..is a quiter...a resurrected John Green, well the only thing resurrected about John Green is his status, he no longer sits atop the mountain, and holds the "Over" status, he is no real power player, and now the three of us, that have never seen eye to eye, must act as one, a cohesive unit, and battle three out of the four Test tournament contenders.
Sabur then pauses to munch on a cheesy chip of goodness, and then washes it down with the refreshment of carbonated cola. Sabur then holds the mic up and continues on his unorthodox promo among the fans in section 217.
Sabur: Well on this evening I may not be in the match that I want, I may not have the partners that I want, but I do have some excellent nachos, and later when the bells rings, there will be three men standing across from me in my house. Phate this man has all the potential to sweep the tourney, and walk right into a title shot, and possibly achieve that goal, but on this evening he has to contend with me, and well I know his potential, and don't fear it one bit. Victor Brander, well this man is a lone wolf, and I think I could learn a lot from the likes of someone like him, but unfortunately he to will be trespassing in the House of Pain. Last but not least a real sleeper, Austin Daniels, the so called Hybrid wrestler, well whether your a hybrid, or friendly to the environment, you treading on my property later, and for that you too will be dealt the same fate as all the rest. I'm coming to dose out the pain fellas, and you the fans.
Looking out to the sea of APW faithful surrounding him, with his arms outstretched.
Sabur: It will all be for your pleasure, the blood, the pain, the limbs stacked high, you see this Irish Hammer has just lightened up his load, and the baggage that was dragging me down, has been dropped, and the fresh clear minded Sabur has come to do what I have been needing to do since my arrival, and well so it begins.
Sabur wipes his faces with a napkin, then grabs his grub and strolls off away from the madness that has become section 217.
