Post by Leon Roberts on Jun 9, 2013 23:22:16 GMT -4
~Leon’s POV~
I had made my way back to Toronto, shortly after Overdrive. Something about the last couple of weeks just hasn’t been right. First, I lose to that Cuban clown, Delikado, and then I lose a second chance at the Test For The Best. Naturally, I know this makes me and Titan look weak as we head towards our tag team title shot on Meltdown.
I was outside of my dad’s Bar, Trailriders. I had set up a punching bag there, and with the aggression that was building up within me, the bag wasn’t handling it all to well. Not that an inanimate object could. Doesn’t feel the same as a human punching bag.
Right now, I was not punching the bag. I took a swig of a beer that I had on me. I heard the back door open, and saw that it was dad.
Randy: Working hard son?
Leon: The punching bag has been worked hard.
Randy: No doubt about that one.
Leon: Spare me the details, old man. What are you here for?
Randy: Well, don’t I have the right to support my son? Especially since you’re using the back of my bar as a makeshift gym.
Leon: I suppose so, but often, I always feel like there is an angle with you.
Randy: There isn’t any need to though. Probably you’re skittish nature.
Leon: Skittish? HA! More like my insight on true human nature.
Randy: Whatever you say Leon.
I sighed, before beating the stuffing out of the punching back again. As hard as I punch this, it does nothing for me. I still feel my frustrations. My bloodlust.
Randy: I hope you do defeat the Dying Breed for the tag titles. Been a while since I’ve seen you in a good mood.
Leon: Yeah. I’ll be smiling for quite some time when I beat those piss ants into the ground.
Randy: Well make sure you do beat them. Titan still owes me a good deal of money, and losses don’t pay the bills, you know.
Leon: I’m well aware of that.
Randy: But what will you do if Jason Kash Inter-
Right as he was saying Interferes, I turned quickly, and punch the wall. That felts a bit more satisfying, even if the knuckle does sting a bit now. I could even see a little bit of cracks forming under my fist. I pull away, and see that there are fly guts on my fist.
Leon: Sorry dad. Had to punch an annoying fly.
Randy: Damn.
Leon: Yeah. But…It’s kind of symbolic. This is exactly, what Jason Kash is. An annoying, pesky, loud, buzzing around, fly. This will soon be his fate, especially if he interferes. I will not let a fly get away with costing me a victory.
Randy: Should be a good match regardless. The Dying Breed seem to be like a couple of respectable champions. Wouldn’t mind meeting them myself.
I froze for a second, as I processed what dad said. It sounded like he wanted the Dying Breed to win, over his own flesh and blood. I’m not that surprised, as he is more about the respect, where as I have non. But still…I grab my beer bottle, and chuck it at him. He dodges, and it shatters on the wall behind him. He then looks at me, with complete surprise.
Leon: You have the balls to say that to me!? To sound like you prefer them to win, over ME!
Randy: Maybe they should!
Leon: Fuck that shit. What I’m going to do to them, with Titan assisting, is making them become a bit more then their name sake. They’ll become the Dead Breed. But you know, maybe I haven’t been using the right punching bag. So come on old man! It’s time I teach you a lesson.
Randy: Oh yeah, and what would that be?
I ran towards him, ready to strike. He dodged, and then he punched me in the ribs a couple times, before getting a headlock in. But I backed up and slammed him against the wall, and elbowed him in the gut. He fell, but tripped me.
I landed with a hard thud, and he then proceeded to lift my leg up, and slam it back down, knee first. He did that repeatedly.
Randy: I’m not learning anything here son.
Leon: FUCK YOU!
Dad slams my knee down one last time. It does hurt, but nothing I can’t handle. He then waits for me to get up, before he begins to punch away at me. I could only block a few. He manages to grab my arm, and gives a hip toss. He then gets me back up to my feet, but I punch him hard in the gut, and moved away. When I was up, I wasted no time, as I punched him hard across the face, before I grab his head, and drove his face into my unhurt knee.
Leon: You’re learning now.
Dad gets back up, and we begin to trade punches. After a minute, I clocked him hard with an uppercut that caused him to stumble back. I then take that opportunity to grab him by the throat, with one hand. I squeeze down, breaking any airflow. I saw his struggle against my strength. I then slammed him against the wall, still holding onto him.
Leon: The lesson is simple. Don’t fuck with Leon Roberts! For I alone, own this world!
I chuckle, as I tossed him into the side of the garbage bin. True to the Robert’s family extreme durability, he isn’t knocked out cold. But he struggles to get o his feet. Eventually, he does, and stumbles. He spits out some blood onto the ground, before glaring at me.
Leon: Get back to work!
Randy: That attitude of yours is going to bite you in the ass hard one day, Leon.
Leon: My nice days died when I first died, and you know that old man.
Randy: I know. Still, you fight good.
Leon: Like there was any doubt.
Randy: I still say some respect will do you good.
Leon: I'm here all day old man. I can beat the shit out of you again if you keep bugging me!
Dad sighs at that. My arrogance and attitude has always bothered him, but he has no right to even feel that way. As much as I like him because he’s my father, I don’t like his ‘respect’ attitude.
Certainly, a couple of pussies ain’t going to humble me in any way.
But this fight, it’s bringing so many thoughts to my head. Out if the corner of my eye, I see the camcorder I set up. I forgot I had it set up and recording. Had no particular reason to have it up, but I’m glad I did. I sat down on a crate that’s close to it, and looked at the camera.
Here we go again.
Leon: I've waited for quite some time for this. The wins and losses in APW, now mean something aside from a trail of blood. For on the upcoming edition of Meltdown, Jake titan, and myself, of Natural Born Killaz, roll into Meltdown once again. This time, it ain't just for fun. It's all about the gold.
During our short time here, we’ve gotten more people talking then any other tag team in APW. I shouldn’t have to point what we’ve accomplished thus far in our short time, our actions have already spoken volumes.
I can’t say I’m all that surprised. When I walk around in APW, I see very few men who are true to themselves. I see very few fighters who should mean something. Thus far, it’s only the Killaz that have that. Everyone else is just as loud as a piece of crap motorbike, but they wouldn’t bust a grape in a food fight. Yeah it’s a quote from Jay-Z, but it pretty much explains everyone else. Now, we face off against a couple of straight laced good guys, The Dying Breed
I begin to chuckle for a couple seconds. Just the name of the tag team is hilarious, because it has so much meaning that I do indeed like. Who knows? Maybe they’ll change their name to ‘The Dead Breed’ once the Killaz tear them apart.
Leon: I will admit, I am very curious as to what that all mean. What are those three men? More specifically, the Killaz opponents, Bailey and Hopkins.
I can tell exactly what Anthony Bailey is. I’m sure you’ve heard this about a billion times already, especially from that stupid monkey who keeps jumping on our backs, Jason Kash. But what does Anthony Bailey know about real life? Of the struggle?
Like I said, you’ve heard that story a billion times, yet the answer will naturally, be the same. You don’t. A tragedy here, a couple of possible bad decisions, but that’s not struggling. Struggling is being lucky to have a meal on the table. Struggling, is knowing death’s embrace. Hate, is betrayal at the hands of a friend, who turned his gun on you, to save his own skin.
Maybe you do know hate in a different form. I mean it’s so easy to hate Jason Kash because he decides he wants to fuck with you.
We can’t forget one of the more important ones, being a callous look on life, when you realize that taking a life is all too easy. Quite enjoyable at times as well, I might add.
But enough talking about me. I want to talk to you Bailey. From what I’ve seen, you’re an okay guy, born and raised in money. Good education, good morals. Whoop-dee-fucken-do! My ability to care for that shit is non existent! You can take your money, take your privileges, and your falsified greatness, and shove them up your ass for all I care!
I wonder though…Are you still going crazy over your loss to Kash at Mayhem? I know you’ve had better days before that. You might have beaten the models that are M&M, not only to retake the tag titles, and retain them, but you still have that asterick of Jason Kash hanging over your head, especially since you did a fucken awesome job of beating his ass like he was your slave, for a whole year. Hell you beat him for the world title. But now look at you, can’t beat that rodent anymore.
Oh what’s this? My interference cost you the last match against him? Well you weren’t the main target, but I am glad that I got into your fucken head. It’s not my fault you got distracted by my overwhelming presence. Certainly not my fault you didn’t keep your eye on the ball. But at the same time, I put you on notice, because you and Hopkins have what the Killaz want. With that, I’m more then happy to take claim on the sad sorry state that might just befall you, if you’re luck lately has anything to say about it.
Of course, there is Jair Hopkins. A gentleman to say the least, with a bratty anger streak to boot. You get pissed off because one friend is being paid to help an enemy. Now yeah, that’s only one time I saw, but doesn’t that kind of go against what you’re trying to stand for? I think it does. You threw a big dramatic hissy fit because the wrong person in your books, was paying for a service, from a friend. That is nothing short of pure immaturity. You would think that growing up in that Bronx, you’d have learned that people have to take what they can get.
To me Jair, you seem like you’re all there, ready for action, but looks can be deceiving. I clearly remember that ‘health scare’ you had last month, overdosing on Anti-depressants, and drowning in alcohol. Bad combo, and maybe if you were feeling depressed, maybe the overdose would have done us all favors. I wonder though Hopkins…Can you handle the fact that the Killaz are gonna beat and bludgeon you and Bailey, like you two are prison bitches? I doubt you can.
Face it Hopkins, you’re pathetic. You should have died in that hotel room, because what I’m about to do to you and Bailey, is nothing short of sheer brutality. If you think you can handle it, then make sure that when you lose, just be sure not to take to many pills this time, because no amount of them will erase the humiliation you will suffer. Learn to deal with it, because it only gets worse.
I smirk once again. This is just to good. Because I could easily ruin somebody’s life, all in the public eye. I know that if given the chance, it would be done. In fact, the thought about Jair Hopkins, getting depressed again due to the inevitable loss at the hands of Natural Born Killaz, it made me chuckle once again.
Leon: You say you two are a Dying Breed, not in name, but in general. Because you show respect to everyone, except obviously, for Foul Play. You two try to be nice guys, and thus far, it’s worked. You’re role models. Here’s the problem. I wouldn’t let my kids idolize you two clowns, because not only do I get the feeling that it’s not entirely real, you two are personification of things that not only do I despise, but are also false. You two show the world there is still good, but we know that’s a fucken lie.
Come Meltdown, The Dying Breed will die. Because I will not only make sure that they not only lose, but learn true desperation. What most of the world already knows. To feel fear, and your reaction to it. You’ll have to resort to methods you don’t want to have to resort to, in order to do any damage. Playing by the rules is something only pussies like yourselves do, because they were invented to even the playing field for people who don’t have the balls to do it gladiator style.
Can you two fight this match gladiator style? Last team standing, and utter defeat for the losers? We’ll see. If you do somehow overcome us, I doubt it will be because of simply playing within the rules. It wouldn’t surprise meat all if Kash stuck his nose in our business, just to make himself feel like a man. Once that happens, unless you let us recover and get the match straightened out, will prove that you two are hypocrites, and hypocrites are some of the lowest scum in existence.
One last thing boys. This world may have known a relatively good time, but those days are over. People are waking up to see what reality is, and it’s ugly to them. This world is going to hell, and I’m the conductor on this crazy train, and I’m making sure we’re going full…speed…AHEAD!
I had made my way back to Toronto, shortly after Overdrive. Something about the last couple of weeks just hasn’t been right. First, I lose to that Cuban clown, Delikado, and then I lose a second chance at the Test For The Best. Naturally, I know this makes me and Titan look weak as we head towards our tag team title shot on Meltdown.
I was outside of my dad’s Bar, Trailriders. I had set up a punching bag there, and with the aggression that was building up within me, the bag wasn’t handling it all to well. Not that an inanimate object could. Doesn’t feel the same as a human punching bag.
Right now, I was not punching the bag. I took a swig of a beer that I had on me. I heard the back door open, and saw that it was dad.
Randy: Working hard son?
Leon: The punching bag has been worked hard.
Randy: No doubt about that one.
Leon: Spare me the details, old man. What are you here for?
Randy: Well, don’t I have the right to support my son? Especially since you’re using the back of my bar as a makeshift gym.
Leon: I suppose so, but often, I always feel like there is an angle with you.
Randy: There isn’t any need to though. Probably you’re skittish nature.
Leon: Skittish? HA! More like my insight on true human nature.
Randy: Whatever you say Leon.
I sighed, before beating the stuffing out of the punching back again. As hard as I punch this, it does nothing for me. I still feel my frustrations. My bloodlust.
Randy: I hope you do defeat the Dying Breed for the tag titles. Been a while since I’ve seen you in a good mood.
Leon: Yeah. I’ll be smiling for quite some time when I beat those piss ants into the ground.
Randy: Well make sure you do beat them. Titan still owes me a good deal of money, and losses don’t pay the bills, you know.
Leon: I’m well aware of that.
Randy: But what will you do if Jason Kash Inter-
Right as he was saying Interferes, I turned quickly, and punch the wall. That felts a bit more satisfying, even if the knuckle does sting a bit now. I could even see a little bit of cracks forming under my fist. I pull away, and see that there are fly guts on my fist.
Leon: Sorry dad. Had to punch an annoying fly.
Randy: Damn.
Leon: Yeah. But…It’s kind of symbolic. This is exactly, what Jason Kash is. An annoying, pesky, loud, buzzing around, fly. This will soon be his fate, especially if he interferes. I will not let a fly get away with costing me a victory.
Randy: Should be a good match regardless. The Dying Breed seem to be like a couple of respectable champions. Wouldn’t mind meeting them myself.
I froze for a second, as I processed what dad said. It sounded like he wanted the Dying Breed to win, over his own flesh and blood. I’m not that surprised, as he is more about the respect, where as I have non. But still…I grab my beer bottle, and chuck it at him. He dodges, and it shatters on the wall behind him. He then looks at me, with complete surprise.
Leon: You have the balls to say that to me!? To sound like you prefer them to win, over ME!
Randy: Maybe they should!
Leon: Fuck that shit. What I’m going to do to them, with Titan assisting, is making them become a bit more then their name sake. They’ll become the Dead Breed. But you know, maybe I haven’t been using the right punching bag. So come on old man! It’s time I teach you a lesson.
Randy: Oh yeah, and what would that be?
I ran towards him, ready to strike. He dodged, and then he punched me in the ribs a couple times, before getting a headlock in. But I backed up and slammed him against the wall, and elbowed him in the gut. He fell, but tripped me.
I landed with a hard thud, and he then proceeded to lift my leg up, and slam it back down, knee first. He did that repeatedly.
Randy: I’m not learning anything here son.
Leon: FUCK YOU!
Dad slams my knee down one last time. It does hurt, but nothing I can’t handle. He then waits for me to get up, before he begins to punch away at me. I could only block a few. He manages to grab my arm, and gives a hip toss. He then gets me back up to my feet, but I punch him hard in the gut, and moved away. When I was up, I wasted no time, as I punched him hard across the face, before I grab his head, and drove his face into my unhurt knee.
Leon: You’re learning now.
Dad gets back up, and we begin to trade punches. After a minute, I clocked him hard with an uppercut that caused him to stumble back. I then take that opportunity to grab him by the throat, with one hand. I squeeze down, breaking any airflow. I saw his struggle against my strength. I then slammed him against the wall, still holding onto him.
Leon: The lesson is simple. Don’t fuck with Leon Roberts! For I alone, own this world!
I chuckle, as I tossed him into the side of the garbage bin. True to the Robert’s family extreme durability, he isn’t knocked out cold. But he struggles to get o his feet. Eventually, he does, and stumbles. He spits out some blood onto the ground, before glaring at me.
Leon: Get back to work!
Randy: That attitude of yours is going to bite you in the ass hard one day, Leon.
Leon: My nice days died when I first died, and you know that old man.
Randy: I know. Still, you fight good.
Leon: Like there was any doubt.
Randy: I still say some respect will do you good.
Leon: I'm here all day old man. I can beat the shit out of you again if you keep bugging me!
Dad sighs at that. My arrogance and attitude has always bothered him, but he has no right to even feel that way. As much as I like him because he’s my father, I don’t like his ‘respect’ attitude.
Certainly, a couple of pussies ain’t going to humble me in any way.
But this fight, it’s bringing so many thoughts to my head. Out if the corner of my eye, I see the camcorder I set up. I forgot I had it set up and recording. Had no particular reason to have it up, but I’m glad I did. I sat down on a crate that’s close to it, and looked at the camera.
Here we go again.
Leon: I've waited for quite some time for this. The wins and losses in APW, now mean something aside from a trail of blood. For on the upcoming edition of Meltdown, Jake titan, and myself, of Natural Born Killaz, roll into Meltdown once again. This time, it ain't just for fun. It's all about the gold.
During our short time here, we’ve gotten more people talking then any other tag team in APW. I shouldn’t have to point what we’ve accomplished thus far in our short time, our actions have already spoken volumes.
I can’t say I’m all that surprised. When I walk around in APW, I see very few men who are true to themselves. I see very few fighters who should mean something. Thus far, it’s only the Killaz that have that. Everyone else is just as loud as a piece of crap motorbike, but they wouldn’t bust a grape in a food fight. Yeah it’s a quote from Jay-Z, but it pretty much explains everyone else. Now, we face off against a couple of straight laced good guys, The Dying Breed
I begin to chuckle for a couple seconds. Just the name of the tag team is hilarious, because it has so much meaning that I do indeed like. Who knows? Maybe they’ll change their name to ‘The Dead Breed’ once the Killaz tear them apart.
Leon: I will admit, I am very curious as to what that all mean. What are those three men? More specifically, the Killaz opponents, Bailey and Hopkins.
I can tell exactly what Anthony Bailey is. I’m sure you’ve heard this about a billion times already, especially from that stupid monkey who keeps jumping on our backs, Jason Kash. But what does Anthony Bailey know about real life? Of the struggle?
Like I said, you’ve heard that story a billion times, yet the answer will naturally, be the same. You don’t. A tragedy here, a couple of possible bad decisions, but that’s not struggling. Struggling is being lucky to have a meal on the table. Struggling, is knowing death’s embrace. Hate, is betrayal at the hands of a friend, who turned his gun on you, to save his own skin.
Maybe you do know hate in a different form. I mean it’s so easy to hate Jason Kash because he decides he wants to fuck with you.
We can’t forget one of the more important ones, being a callous look on life, when you realize that taking a life is all too easy. Quite enjoyable at times as well, I might add.
But enough talking about me. I want to talk to you Bailey. From what I’ve seen, you’re an okay guy, born and raised in money. Good education, good morals. Whoop-dee-fucken-do! My ability to care for that shit is non existent! You can take your money, take your privileges, and your falsified greatness, and shove them up your ass for all I care!
I wonder though…Are you still going crazy over your loss to Kash at Mayhem? I know you’ve had better days before that. You might have beaten the models that are M&M, not only to retake the tag titles, and retain them, but you still have that asterick of Jason Kash hanging over your head, especially since you did a fucken awesome job of beating his ass like he was your slave, for a whole year. Hell you beat him for the world title. But now look at you, can’t beat that rodent anymore.
Oh what’s this? My interference cost you the last match against him? Well you weren’t the main target, but I am glad that I got into your fucken head. It’s not my fault you got distracted by my overwhelming presence. Certainly not my fault you didn’t keep your eye on the ball. But at the same time, I put you on notice, because you and Hopkins have what the Killaz want. With that, I’m more then happy to take claim on the sad sorry state that might just befall you, if you’re luck lately has anything to say about it.
Of course, there is Jair Hopkins. A gentleman to say the least, with a bratty anger streak to boot. You get pissed off because one friend is being paid to help an enemy. Now yeah, that’s only one time I saw, but doesn’t that kind of go against what you’re trying to stand for? I think it does. You threw a big dramatic hissy fit because the wrong person in your books, was paying for a service, from a friend. That is nothing short of pure immaturity. You would think that growing up in that Bronx, you’d have learned that people have to take what they can get.
To me Jair, you seem like you’re all there, ready for action, but looks can be deceiving. I clearly remember that ‘health scare’ you had last month, overdosing on Anti-depressants, and drowning in alcohol. Bad combo, and maybe if you were feeling depressed, maybe the overdose would have done us all favors. I wonder though Hopkins…Can you handle the fact that the Killaz are gonna beat and bludgeon you and Bailey, like you two are prison bitches? I doubt you can.
Face it Hopkins, you’re pathetic. You should have died in that hotel room, because what I’m about to do to you and Bailey, is nothing short of sheer brutality. If you think you can handle it, then make sure that when you lose, just be sure not to take to many pills this time, because no amount of them will erase the humiliation you will suffer. Learn to deal with it, because it only gets worse.
I smirk once again. This is just to good. Because I could easily ruin somebody’s life, all in the public eye. I know that if given the chance, it would be done. In fact, the thought about Jair Hopkins, getting depressed again due to the inevitable loss at the hands of Natural Born Killaz, it made me chuckle once again.
Leon: You say you two are a Dying Breed, not in name, but in general. Because you show respect to everyone, except obviously, for Foul Play. You two try to be nice guys, and thus far, it’s worked. You’re role models. Here’s the problem. I wouldn’t let my kids idolize you two clowns, because not only do I get the feeling that it’s not entirely real, you two are personification of things that not only do I despise, but are also false. You two show the world there is still good, but we know that’s a fucken lie.
Come Meltdown, The Dying Breed will die. Because I will not only make sure that they not only lose, but learn true desperation. What most of the world already knows. To feel fear, and your reaction to it. You’ll have to resort to methods you don’t want to have to resort to, in order to do any damage. Playing by the rules is something only pussies like yourselves do, because they were invented to even the playing field for people who don’t have the balls to do it gladiator style.
Can you two fight this match gladiator style? Last team standing, and utter defeat for the losers? We’ll see. If you do somehow overcome us, I doubt it will be because of simply playing within the rules. It wouldn’t surprise meat all if Kash stuck his nose in our business, just to make himself feel like a man. Once that happens, unless you let us recover and get the match straightened out, will prove that you two are hypocrites, and hypocrites are some of the lowest scum in existence.
One last thing boys. This world may have known a relatively good time, but those days are over. People are waking up to see what reality is, and it’s ugly to them. This world is going to hell, and I’m the conductor on this crazy train, and I’m making sure we’re going full…speed…AHEAD!
