Post by Shadow on Aug 6, 2013 21:49:06 GMT -4
The scene opens in Little Rock, moments after Asylum has cut to commercial.
"Shadow, please calm down!"
Inside his locker room after the atrocious attack by Aubrey J. Parker, the medical team tends to Shadow. The blood still drips from his face, as he grabs the medical back and hurls it across the room with a howl.
"I need a sedative!" The doctor backed away with a panicked look on his face.
"I can't believe she led us here," whispered a medic as he does his job.
"The nerve of that psycho," muttered another.
Shadow staggered off the bench. His left shoulder hanging lower than the right. The giant grunted with every step. The pain was nothing compared to what was coming though. With a heave, he lunges into the rigid locker structure and lets out a cry of relief as he slams his shoulder back into place. Gasping, Shadow turns and slumps again the locker. The medical team rushes over. They wipe down his forehead. He is still bleeding.
"Shadow," the main doctor pleads. "You need to calm down."
They stick his arm with a needle. But with the amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins, there's not enough to put him out. It slows his heart rate quite a bit. He barely feels the sting of the alcohol they drizzle on his wound. Aubrey J. Parker had really done a number on him.
"I know this sounds like a stupid request, but follow my finger." The doctor holds up his right index and moves it side to side. "You," he motions to a medic and to Shadow's forehead, "apply pressure."
Shadow blinks, his pupils train on the digit but he has a hard time concentrating. They can't tell if he has a concussion yet. The cloth pressing against his crown is irritating. He lowers his head and shakes it back and forth. It's difficult, but he blames the tranquilizer. His mind was focused on Aubrey J. Parker.
"I'm going to kill her," Shadow says, "That little bitch is dead."
In his mind, he replays the incidents in his head. Everything was a blur. He was just getting ready to leave the arena; when suddenly, Shadow heard some yell his name. He turned to face the voice and glimpsed Parker just before the chair struck his head. He fantasizes about getting up as she turns her back on him to gloat. He imagines seizing her by the shoulders and hurling her back into the wall.
"He might have a concussion. We need to get him to the ER." The lead doctor grating voice grinds Shadow back to reality. The doctor is directing his team.
"Ambulance is already on the way."
"Shadow!" The doctor turns to him. "Remain still, you're going to need a stiches."
Again with the pressure. It is not long before Shadow slings his arm away and grabs the bottle of alcohol. He pours it over a rag and hurls it on the ground. Next he throws a folded steel chair on it. From the medical bag he takes a small bottle of ether and dumps it on the metal. The doctors rush to restrain him as Shadow grabs his zippo. The big man holds them back as he ignites the wick and drops the lighter on the chemicals. Shadow never hurts them. But he is able prevent them from interfering while he heats the metal. Shadow is still juicing. He grabs the chair by a leg and bring it to his forehead. Everyone stands there in shock as Shadow closes his eyes and remembers the chair shot.
Shadow lets out an arena audible roar. He pulls the chair away from his searing flesh. Sin sizzles as the stench of smoke and flesh fill the air. Again, the big man drops. He won't need stiches now. The doctors hurry to prevent the cauterized wound from becoming infected. Meanwhile, Shadow tries to slow his heart rate.
"My God," the nurse exclaims.
"He's insane!" Another rebuffs.
But Shadow was just practical. He couldn't have stiches. They would never heal in time. They'd be a bulls eye for any hungry vulture. It might even put him out of action. Shadow couldn't have that. After his big speech about getting back in the ring. Stefan Raab trying to phase him out would be easier if Shadow was sidelined. No, he couldn't let that happen. Shadow had to endure. But there was something else tugging away at him. Something Shadow couldn't quite figure out. Was AJP a message from Stefan Raab, or did that bitch do this on her own. He didn't know , Shadow was going to find out.
Look at this motherfucking joker trying to talk shit about me! "the Gimp" from Pulp Fiction finally unmasked? Man, shut the hell up!
Son, you don't know what you done stepped into. That's right, I said it. This bullshit match I got thrown this week, a Gauntlet match? Stefan Raab is really that much of a pussy? He can't man up, accept my challenge and face me himself? No. Instead he has to send in his lackeys to try and "put me in my place!" First, it was Her Hermaphroditic Highness, Aubrey J. Parker. With a steel chair mind you. Now, this mule has to run his mouth, like he knows a thing or two! I hope the card is not in order. I want to start with you.
On the final Meltdown, I was so happy. I went back to my old job. I loved Meltdown. It was what I lived for. Something about that show, fighting the new meat in APW. It gave me such inspiration to breed the next generation of APW Megastar. There are some people who come into APW that are born Megastars, people like Jace Savage, T.J. Saint, William D' Williams, The Guv'nor need I go on? And then there were people like you. Nobodies who show up in APW rambling on about their glory days in other federations. What's next, going to tell us all about placing second your middle school science fair? No one here gives a rat's ass about your days in wAW. This is A.P.W, son! You're in the big leagues now, time to step up or step aside!
You know Blood, I hate repeating myself. But I have to say the same thing to you that I said to Jace Savage: I'm going to crack your skull for not cracking a history book. You no selling son of a bitch. Let me introduce myself. I'm Shadow. One year ago, Xtream champion, TWO (Deuce) time ("X") Overdrive champion, 2012 Hall of Fame and Ass Kicker Extraordinaire!
You really must have had your blinders on back in Phoenix. Well, I guess to someone as "great" as you, you would not recall such an insignificant moment in your life. There I was making my big return to Meltdown promo; I had the crowd going! They were eating it up and all of a sudden Unforgiven interrupts me by coming out. I should have taught you a lesson in manners right then. Who knew fate would come along and offer me a second chance?
Oh, Hell yeah! I'm going to beat some respect into you this week. Not in the way you like it either you sick son of a bitch. No way am I wasting this opportunity. Those were fighting words, boy. I'm throwing down.
So, I have you and that ridiculous cod-piece you call a tag partner in this gauntlet match? Let see if I can piss your boss off some more and maybe he'll send both of you out first, start this gauntlet with a handicap match. I'll put another tag team out of the running. Natural Born Who? You think anyone is going to consider Unforgiven championship material after I throttle the two of you?
Aww, Hell. Why keep AJP waiting? Chunk her ass on into the grinder with these two while you're at it. You don't get it Stefan. I'm coming for you. You're one of the few Meltdown miscreants that slithered away, some little piece of garbage still floating around APW. I'm here to take out the trash. Go on and hide. Send your little army to fight your battles for you. You coward.
You've always been afraid Stefan, that's why your balls jumped up inside you when I cut that promo two weeks back. Just like last year. You can't stand to face me, knowing full well I would wipe that Bavarian Bucktoothed grin off your face. So you called in AJP. Had her wail on me with a steel chair some six or seven times then turn tail and run. When that didn't keep me down, you decided you should send some 'men,' and I use that term loosely, to do something a hermaphrodite couldn't.
People have been asking me all week, "Shadow how's your leg? Shadow are you going to be able to compete?" You're damn right I'll be able to compete. I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world! This match, reminds me of one of my earlier matches on Meltdown. I was thrown into a fatal four way with: 'what's his name,' 'whose that dude,' and 'is that a chick?' All three of them were staggeringly stupendous let-downs. So, I proceeded to unleash the wrath of the Almighty upon their sorry asses. This week will be no different. Well, unlike those forgettable freaks, I actually expect a fight from all of you.
Aubrey J, Parker! You're next, you bitch. One Night in Hell ring any bells? That was the last time you and I interacted, and you hit me with a steel chair then too! I used to hate Carmen Rivera, that whore who aim her saddle bags at everybody to get attention. But you low-down, ghetto-dirty, flea ridden, skank bag, white girl Alabama porn star slut you sucked your way through the Test for the Best Tournament! "Earned" that shot against you boyfriend so he can have an easy "One Year Reign" as champ.
You disgust me. And we all saw it from the start too! Everyone knew Alexander Duvall had a hard on pricks like Terry Marvin and Level One. He despised people like me. People who tell it like it is! He bred you in his own sick fetish way. He knew that by telling that no good Krunk to save you at One Night in Hell he could transfer me off Meltdown! He prevented me from becoming North American Champion because he knew I would never allow some sorry som-bitch like him to bastardize my show.
You see Aubrey, you've been nothing but a pawn. It's the truth, your whole life has led up to this moment of realization. That jack ass Terry Marvin bringing you under his microscopic balls for the New Sindicate and sending Logan Alexander to cost CJ Gate the win at Test for the Best; its the same story just a different show. Someone using you and being the genius that you are to stupid to realize it.
No. Instead someone, with what German's call a penis, said "jump" and you said "on who?" And, being the attention whore that you are, you had to have a trove of people there to see it. Going and getting a medical crew like you were making a "statement," that's what you had to do with your steel chair. Don't worry bitch, I got your message. On Asylum, you're going to feel my retort.
Oh and is the "Silent Giant" ever going to speak up? I'm not surprised. It's better that you don't talk. Everyone knows that "monstrous" look you crafted for yourself is shattered once people find out you're mentally challenged. You don't scare me. As a matter of fact I'm the answer to that interviewer's prayer a few weeks back.
Apparently she was new. That or you just hired some actress to make you appear all scary. I'm inclined to think the latter. Means you don't know jack shit about me. That's fine. Take a look in the mirror, try to imagine yourself with some muscle, ferociousness, a captivating voice, talent and then you have me.
Sentinel, I'm going to do enough talking for the both of us. I know, it's wrong to pick on the special kid, but blame Raab. He threw you under the short bus this week. Like I said to your "cub" earlier, you two had the gall to interrupt me on Meltdown two months back; This is payback. Yeah. I'm holding a grudge.
I wonder who you're going to select as your voice this week. I hope they do their research, unlike the Gimp. I guess that would make you the brains of the operation. Jesus Christmas. I really wish you spoke on camera. Give us another reason to make fun of you with that goofy ass, prepubescent, cartoon characacher voice you keep muted on a permanent basis.
Is Talon going to bore me with your stories of your glory days gone by? Your tag partner already bored me with that story. Come up with something interesting. Oh wait, just like that other rip off, Leon Roberts, you can't. All you are is another window dressing drama king who wanted to be my shadow. I'm original recipe, baby. I'm one of a kind. You can't top that.
Listen up flunky, I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to show you and your long suffering manservant the essence of total destruction. I'm going to set the standard for Asylum by laying waste to the three of you. Stefan Raab can throw anything he wants at me: the book, the kitchen sink, a gauntlet match, I don't care. Sooner or later he will run out of bodies. Sooner or later I'll come claim him.
