Post by Victor Hades on Nov 18, 2009 17:33:41 GMT -4
[OOC: First of all I have to sincerely apologize to Pence, Shadow, and Biggs-I've dealt with a great deal of family drama the past two days. Needless to say its kept me away from the computer, and bottomline I'm just taking the next few days to get my shit together. My apologies for not being able to finish a class-A promo. Sorry again boys-we'll have a better encounter soon I promise.]
The scene opens with Victor Hades in a classy red and black dress shirt and black pressed pants in a white room with what appears to be blood smeared along the walls, looking directly to the camera lens as he sits in a steel chair facing the camera.
Victor Hades-"Pence, what you are now is no more than a James Bond carbon copy turned wrestler, you’ve blown your load on the World title picture plain and fucking simple. You’ve officially tainted what career you have left, and cost yourself almost all if any chances of redeeming yourself for such a terrible mistake. You know, in certain older civilized cultures, when men failed as entirely as you have, they would throw themselves on their swords. Much similar to the Samurai, simply one of the most honorable and respected warriors known to man-would take their own lives than live in shame. Tell me Pence, can you take your own life realizing these failures, or will you bear the burden of shame for the remainder of your pathetic excuse for an unnatural life?
You’ve hired fans to simply make yourself look good despite Level-One kicking your ass every single week back to back, giving yourself more open invitations to public humiliation for the time being. You snuck by before with your spineless words and your cheap tactics, but not this time Pence, I won’t let you fool these people any longer, not you, not Shadow, nobody. I mean NOBODY motherfucker, I’m taking what is rightfully mine and that is my place at the top starting this Overdrive. It is time I crawled out of these ashes, and purge this company from the infecting disease that is the two of you.
You’ve been on this binge for some time now that “The Reaper” inside of you will do some justice, yet this whole time it hasn’t done you shit. You keep putting on this act as though it’s your comeback, your moment in the spotlight-oh wait. You haven’t done a god damn thing! Pence your time is finally nearing its end in hopes of Heavyweight Championship, that dream is fading…and so are you. See, this time you’ve spent bringing forth “a new side of Pence Weatherlight”, you’ve also shown your true colors to the world. Not only did you stoop to the level of hiring some hooker on the corner to shoot a message for you, and probably give you herpes…but you shit on the man who GAVE you that title. You’ve sat for months bitching about loyalty, honor, and respect, and THAT is STILL how you treat the man who gave you that? The man who made you what you are, the man that tore you down piece by piece, the man who BEAT you into the Main-Event picture, again? You’re still one cruel son of a bitch Pence, and a spineless one at that. Yes jackass-I’ve refreshed my memory on my research, try not to faint…
For you-half of writing history is hiding the truth, and the truth is Pence, you aren’t a Champion nor will you ever amount to becoming a true champion for that matter. You couldn’t possibly obtain the knowledge, the charisma, the passion, or the audacity overnight-and I certainly don’t count on seeing it soon. So long as real talent such as Biggs, Level-One, and myself stand above you. You know its funny the old saying “don’t kick them when they’re down”; I always figured whoever said that meant it out of respect. In this case Pence, I hold no respect for you. I don’t care if I’m using your face as a fucking doormat or simply a foot pedestal, I’m going to put the heel of my boot to your chin and drive it to the ground. There’s also an old saying that says if your quarry goes to ground, leave absolutely no ground to go to. I’m already beginning to contemplate the possibilities of where to send shit like you, the trash, the Hospital, the Morgue, or simply straight to Hell. I’ll leave that up to you, asshole…"
Pauses for a moment as he opens a bottled water and takes a sip, before exhaling carefully.
Victor Hades-"You are not the plucky hero Shadow, you are not the shining future, the face of this company, or the backbone of any foundation that remains left of Overdrive. You are simply the real shadow, the background image, the unfamiliar face; you are the shadow behind the rest of us. You Shadow are not the star attraction, you are just the slot filler, and another name that attracts many yet matters to very few. Unlike me you aren’t the sadistic, blood-thirsty, powerful, mind-twisting, cold-hearted, maniacal being that I have become, you could never reach such a level of fucking aptitude. Not on the greatest day of your career could you reach that, not now, and not at the top of the mountain, this is mine, and NO ONE-not you, not Pence, not even your redneck inbred friends the AKA, can take that from me.
For every second, every minute, every day that I am held back, confronted, or delayed from my destiny-will simply amplify the more that people will continue to be harmed, hurt, broken, and if need be-laid to rest. I’m fucking warning you this one last time; give up this on-stage performance of trying to stand in my way. Because there is only one way this is going to end, and that my corpulent, cock-sucking, trailer-trash piece of shit friend, is one bloody fucking mess. It won’t be any ordinary massacre, it won’t be like any horror movie ever made, and this will surpass the barriers of human nature. This Shadow is going to rock you to your fucking core and shake the very foundations of this company, because what I have in store for you will either leave you in ruins, or in a closed fucking casket.
I let you by before with a slight misjudge of character; I doubted your ability to live up to anything you’ve shown before. Not that you’ve shown much in your day, you’re still the fucking gum on the bottom of this company’s shoe, the insect that simply just won’t go away. You see Shadow, belittle me if you will, insult me, doubt me, hell-disre-fucking-spect me, but do not count me out of this. I may have an uprising future World Champion, a powerful competitor, a very dangerous-minded opponent in my corner as a partner. Suffer not a single god damn delusion Shadow, I WILL step into that ring and run you into the ground again. I will push you to your limits, I will match and overcome anything you throw at me, and I am going to leave you lying destroyed and dismayed in that ring.
At Overdrive I’m going to literally extinguish you like a fucking poison withdrawn from a bloody wound, and I will live to that word…I promise you. I’ll show you a side of maniacal, sadistic, and cruelty far beyond the meaning of anything you have ever witnessed. Wednesday night Shadow, I am going to introduce your bitch-ass into a world colder than Hell by comparison. It’s going to be a long fucking night for you pal, because this isn’t going to be over quickly. No, I’m coming to see to it you will not enjoy this encounter, I am going to make you endure this one nice…and slow…
I know what I’m up against; don’t waste your time trying to tell me any different, the two of you together is about nearly as bad as a Saturday morning cartoon super-hero. One who believes he’s a savior, a martyr slash-secret agent of some kind, a true role model for the World Heavyweight title. Then towering over him right beside that piece of shit is an over-grown, tobacco-chewing, easy-to-manipulate jackass in everyone’s way. The two of you are simply different versions of the same ol’ cliché we’ve all seen a million times before; don’t try to put the covers over anyone’s eyes. Because I’ll only rip it from their faces and show the world what a pathetic and horrible waste of talent the two of you are, and every reason you don’t belong in this picture…period.
See I despise assholes…assholes a lot like you, Shadow. For me, you're somewhere between a cockroach and that white stuff that accumulates at the corner of your mouth when you're really thirsty. But, in your case, I'll make an exception. Just remember though regardless of what you may take from this, at the end of the day and after the bell is rung-you’re still just another asshole. By the way dipshit-the next time you choose a human shield, you're better off not picking a two-bit cowardly World Championship-choke artist. See you two assclowns in the middle of the ring, where you wish you never ended up."
Victor suddenly rises and swings the chair into the camera as the scene cuts to static.
Life is Cruel:
"Pain is Pleasure."
"Pain is Pleasure."
The scene opens with Victor Hades in a classy red and black dress shirt and black pressed pants in a white room with what appears to be blood smeared along the walls, looking directly to the camera lens as he sits in a steel chair facing the camera.
Victor Hades-"Pence, what you are now is no more than a James Bond carbon copy turned wrestler, you’ve blown your load on the World title picture plain and fucking simple. You’ve officially tainted what career you have left, and cost yourself almost all if any chances of redeeming yourself for such a terrible mistake. You know, in certain older civilized cultures, when men failed as entirely as you have, they would throw themselves on their swords. Much similar to the Samurai, simply one of the most honorable and respected warriors known to man-would take their own lives than live in shame. Tell me Pence, can you take your own life realizing these failures, or will you bear the burden of shame for the remainder of your pathetic excuse for an unnatural life?
You’ve hired fans to simply make yourself look good despite Level-One kicking your ass every single week back to back, giving yourself more open invitations to public humiliation for the time being. You snuck by before with your spineless words and your cheap tactics, but not this time Pence, I won’t let you fool these people any longer, not you, not Shadow, nobody. I mean NOBODY motherfucker, I’m taking what is rightfully mine and that is my place at the top starting this Overdrive. It is time I crawled out of these ashes, and purge this company from the infecting disease that is the two of you.
You’ve been on this binge for some time now that “The Reaper” inside of you will do some justice, yet this whole time it hasn’t done you shit. You keep putting on this act as though it’s your comeback, your moment in the spotlight-oh wait. You haven’t done a god damn thing! Pence your time is finally nearing its end in hopes of Heavyweight Championship, that dream is fading…and so are you. See, this time you’ve spent bringing forth “a new side of Pence Weatherlight”, you’ve also shown your true colors to the world. Not only did you stoop to the level of hiring some hooker on the corner to shoot a message for you, and probably give you herpes…but you shit on the man who GAVE you that title. You’ve sat for months bitching about loyalty, honor, and respect, and THAT is STILL how you treat the man who gave you that? The man who made you what you are, the man that tore you down piece by piece, the man who BEAT you into the Main-Event picture, again? You’re still one cruel son of a bitch Pence, and a spineless one at that. Yes jackass-I’ve refreshed my memory on my research, try not to faint…
For you-half of writing history is hiding the truth, and the truth is Pence, you aren’t a Champion nor will you ever amount to becoming a true champion for that matter. You couldn’t possibly obtain the knowledge, the charisma, the passion, or the audacity overnight-and I certainly don’t count on seeing it soon. So long as real talent such as Biggs, Level-One, and myself stand above you. You know its funny the old saying “don’t kick them when they’re down”; I always figured whoever said that meant it out of respect. In this case Pence, I hold no respect for you. I don’t care if I’m using your face as a fucking doormat or simply a foot pedestal, I’m going to put the heel of my boot to your chin and drive it to the ground. There’s also an old saying that says if your quarry goes to ground, leave absolutely no ground to go to. I’m already beginning to contemplate the possibilities of where to send shit like you, the trash, the Hospital, the Morgue, or simply straight to Hell. I’ll leave that up to you, asshole…"
Pauses for a moment as he opens a bottled water and takes a sip, before exhaling carefully.
Victor Hades-"You are not the plucky hero Shadow, you are not the shining future, the face of this company, or the backbone of any foundation that remains left of Overdrive. You are simply the real shadow, the background image, the unfamiliar face; you are the shadow behind the rest of us. You Shadow are not the star attraction, you are just the slot filler, and another name that attracts many yet matters to very few. Unlike me you aren’t the sadistic, blood-thirsty, powerful, mind-twisting, cold-hearted, maniacal being that I have become, you could never reach such a level of fucking aptitude. Not on the greatest day of your career could you reach that, not now, and not at the top of the mountain, this is mine, and NO ONE-not you, not Pence, not even your redneck inbred friends the AKA, can take that from me.
For every second, every minute, every day that I am held back, confronted, or delayed from my destiny-will simply amplify the more that people will continue to be harmed, hurt, broken, and if need be-laid to rest. I’m fucking warning you this one last time; give up this on-stage performance of trying to stand in my way. Because there is only one way this is going to end, and that my corpulent, cock-sucking, trailer-trash piece of shit friend, is one bloody fucking mess. It won’t be any ordinary massacre, it won’t be like any horror movie ever made, and this will surpass the barriers of human nature. This Shadow is going to rock you to your fucking core and shake the very foundations of this company, because what I have in store for you will either leave you in ruins, or in a closed fucking casket.
I let you by before with a slight misjudge of character; I doubted your ability to live up to anything you’ve shown before. Not that you’ve shown much in your day, you’re still the fucking gum on the bottom of this company’s shoe, the insect that simply just won’t go away. You see Shadow, belittle me if you will, insult me, doubt me, hell-disre-fucking-spect me, but do not count me out of this. I may have an uprising future World Champion, a powerful competitor, a very dangerous-minded opponent in my corner as a partner. Suffer not a single god damn delusion Shadow, I WILL step into that ring and run you into the ground again. I will push you to your limits, I will match and overcome anything you throw at me, and I am going to leave you lying destroyed and dismayed in that ring.
At Overdrive I’m going to literally extinguish you like a fucking poison withdrawn from a bloody wound, and I will live to that word…I promise you. I’ll show you a side of maniacal, sadistic, and cruelty far beyond the meaning of anything you have ever witnessed. Wednesday night Shadow, I am going to introduce your bitch-ass into a world colder than Hell by comparison. It’s going to be a long fucking night for you pal, because this isn’t going to be over quickly. No, I’m coming to see to it you will not enjoy this encounter, I am going to make you endure this one nice…and slow…
I know what I’m up against; don’t waste your time trying to tell me any different, the two of you together is about nearly as bad as a Saturday morning cartoon super-hero. One who believes he’s a savior, a martyr slash-secret agent of some kind, a true role model for the World Heavyweight title. Then towering over him right beside that piece of shit is an over-grown, tobacco-chewing, easy-to-manipulate jackass in everyone’s way. The two of you are simply different versions of the same ol’ cliché we’ve all seen a million times before; don’t try to put the covers over anyone’s eyes. Because I’ll only rip it from their faces and show the world what a pathetic and horrible waste of talent the two of you are, and every reason you don’t belong in this picture…period.
See I despise assholes…assholes a lot like you, Shadow. For me, you're somewhere between a cockroach and that white stuff that accumulates at the corner of your mouth when you're really thirsty. But, in your case, I'll make an exception. Just remember though regardless of what you may take from this, at the end of the day and after the bell is rung-you’re still just another asshole. By the way dipshit-the next time you choose a human shield, you're better off not picking a two-bit cowardly World Championship-choke artist. See you two assclowns in the middle of the ring, where you wish you never ended up."
Victor suddenly rises and swings the chair into the camera as the scene cuts to static.
