Post by Mad Mumf on Oct 2, 2013 20:26:20 GMT -4
Moscow, Russa: 0200
Location: Leningradsky Voksal Terminal
Target: Classified
Operative: Classified
Mission: Retrieval
The sights and sounds of the nearly abandoned railroad terminal are virtually non-existent as the late night arrival rolls up to its platform. Only a few stragglers, peddlers, and homeless are milling about, and even they nearly outnumber those exiting the train. Apparently the later train is not a typically favorite means of transportation from Leningrad at this hour.
A man, whose name we know from a previous encounter is Boris walks off the train. This time, however, he's walking straight and is definitely sober. His eyes are more clear, though he's wearing the same exact clothes from the last time we saw him. He has two extremely muscular men walking with him, apparent cronies or henchmen of some kind.
On a nearby bench, an attractive woman talks on the phone, but makes note of his passing, her eyes scan the man as well as the hired hands as they pass by. One of the henchmen spares her a glance and she simply winks back. His eyes quickly dart back forward as they continue walking. Shortly after they pass through the main doorway, the attractive woman gets out of hair chair and walks towards the door herself, speaking quietly into the phone.
Woman - I've got them. They're about to come out the main entrance. He's got two heavy duty apes with him. Not sure where he got them from. Nothing you and your friends can't handle, though I'm sure.
The woman walks through the door outside a few minutes later and takes in the scene in front of her. Both of the thugs are face down and unconcsious, one has a bloody nose, but both have tranquilizer darts sticking out of their chests. Ryan Mumford and Ivy Summers are each standing over one of them. Mad Mumf is not much further away, a booted foot placed on the small of Boris's back while he pulls a set of zip ties tight around his wrists and ankles respectively.
Woman - I take it we're even then? Do you have my plane ticket?
Ryan hands the girl an envlelope.
Ryan - One expense paid trip to anywhere but here.
Ivy - A word of advice, girlie. Next time you feel the need to "pay off your college debt," you may want to consider flipping burgers rather than stripping at some club in a third world country.
The woman smirks and winks and struts away, but not before pausing and looking at Ryan, mouthing the words, "Call me..."
After another moment, Mumf walks up with a gagged and bound Boris draped over his shoulder.
Mad Mumf - Let's go. I want to get this asshole into the hands of the pick up crew and make him someone else's problem so I can be done with this and get back to business.
The scene fades to black. Shortly thereafter, we see Mumf standing in an empty ring and arena, the site of the upcoming Thursday Night Overdrive. He's leaning against the ropes, looking into the camera.
Mad Mumf - I'm not going with any fancy frills or editing this week, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not using effects or graphics or even ring intros or any of that nonsense until it's showtime. Right now I have one thing on my mind. Getting back to what I've enjoy doing. The last few weeks I've been distracted by helping a friend to whom I owed a favor. It was a damned headache and an absolute pain in my ass. And by the end it required all my determination to complete the task that was set before me. That task, I suppose, in that way is just like this business and the goals that I aspire to. I aspire to greatness in this business and that's a neverending climb. But I guarantee you that in my eyes its worth it.
It's worth every bruise, every bump, every shattered bone, and every drop of blood spilled on this canvas. I may have been good at what I did before I got into this ring, but this is what I enjoy doing. This is why I'm here before you tonight, and this is why, even after weeks of chasing some alcoholic Serbian asshole more than halfway across Europe, I'm still ready to get back into this ring and put my focus back on the matter at hand. I have people who need me here. I have fans who want to see me. And I have asses to kick.
Last week, I went up against a newcomer, Atlas Adams. Normally I pride myself on giving attention to my opponent and focus in my preparation. Last week, I did not give Atlas Adams the attention of focus that he deserved. And for that, I apologize. My opponents deserve better, and the fans deserve better. And now, with my mind back in the game, you are all going to get better than that. Atlas? Congratulations on your APW debut. Enjoy it. Keep the film of it. It's a good memory to cherish. Remember this, though. The next time you face me, don't expect it to be easy. Don't expect it to be like this time. Next time I will give you the fight you deserve and the intensity every opponent should be given.
And so, with intensity in mind and focus restored, it's time for that focus to shift to John Canyon. Another new name by my perspective, much the way a good number of the APW roster is at this point is still. I won't know much about you aside form the fact that you seem to know how to handle yourself in the ring with some measure of competency. Your file didn't say a whole hell of alot. So I'm going to have to base alot of what I know on the little blurb they wrote about you.
I'm gonna sum it up in a few words here chief. You seem like a douche. You are way too full of yourself for somebody who has alot to prove still. You want to walk around with a cocky attitude, then you're likely to find yourself facing the Death Sentence before you even get your shoes scuffed in that ring, do you understand me? You're looking at a man who's itching for a fight at this point because I'm tired of losing. I'm tired of not having the focus I need, and I'm tired of having to deal with crap that I left out of my life a long god damned time ago.
Translation? Bring your A-Game. You're in for a hell of a whooping. I don't care what wrestlers you idolized or if you want to be the gimmicky cliche bad guy or heel. That's right, I broke kayfabe. Just looking at the smug look on your face in your publicity stills makes me want to slap the fake n bake right off your skin. Let's be honest buddy boy, if you're from the great white north, you're not sunbathing on a daily basis. Like a friend of mine from Saskatoon tells me, you guys have two seasons...winter and construction. Doesn't leave much time for visiting the beach.
So long story short, I'm gonna go out on a limb right now and say that when we step into that ring, I'm not going to like you. I'm not going to respect you or try to earn yours. I'm going to think probably what I'm thinking right now. That you're a tool in need of a beating, and I'm just the man to deliver. So come on out at Overdrive, smile your smug little smile, and then get the taste slapped right out of your mouth. So let's go chief. Come get your heaping helping of my boot up your ass.
Location: Leningradsky Voksal Terminal
Target: Classified
Operative: Classified
Mission: Retrieval
The sights and sounds of the nearly abandoned railroad terminal are virtually non-existent as the late night arrival rolls up to its platform. Only a few stragglers, peddlers, and homeless are milling about, and even they nearly outnumber those exiting the train. Apparently the later train is not a typically favorite means of transportation from Leningrad at this hour.
A man, whose name we know from a previous encounter is Boris walks off the train. This time, however, he's walking straight and is definitely sober. His eyes are more clear, though he's wearing the same exact clothes from the last time we saw him. He has two extremely muscular men walking with him, apparent cronies or henchmen of some kind.
On a nearby bench, an attractive woman talks on the phone, but makes note of his passing, her eyes scan the man as well as the hired hands as they pass by. One of the henchmen spares her a glance and she simply winks back. His eyes quickly dart back forward as they continue walking. Shortly after they pass through the main doorway, the attractive woman gets out of hair chair and walks towards the door herself, speaking quietly into the phone.
Woman - I've got them. They're about to come out the main entrance. He's got two heavy duty apes with him. Not sure where he got them from. Nothing you and your friends can't handle, though I'm sure.
The woman walks through the door outside a few minutes later and takes in the scene in front of her. Both of the thugs are face down and unconcsious, one has a bloody nose, but both have tranquilizer darts sticking out of their chests. Ryan Mumford and Ivy Summers are each standing over one of them. Mad Mumf is not much further away, a booted foot placed on the small of Boris's back while he pulls a set of zip ties tight around his wrists and ankles respectively.
Woman - I take it we're even then? Do you have my plane ticket?
Ryan hands the girl an envlelope.
Ryan - One expense paid trip to anywhere but here.
Ivy - A word of advice, girlie. Next time you feel the need to "pay off your college debt," you may want to consider flipping burgers rather than stripping at some club in a third world country.
The woman smirks and winks and struts away, but not before pausing and looking at Ryan, mouthing the words, "Call me..."
After another moment, Mumf walks up with a gagged and bound Boris draped over his shoulder.
Mad Mumf - Let's go. I want to get this asshole into the hands of the pick up crew and make him someone else's problem so I can be done with this and get back to business.
The scene fades to black. Shortly thereafter, we see Mumf standing in an empty ring and arena, the site of the upcoming Thursday Night Overdrive. He's leaning against the ropes, looking into the camera.
Mad Mumf - I'm not going with any fancy frills or editing this week, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not using effects or graphics or even ring intros or any of that nonsense until it's showtime. Right now I have one thing on my mind. Getting back to what I've enjoy doing. The last few weeks I've been distracted by helping a friend to whom I owed a favor. It was a damned headache and an absolute pain in my ass. And by the end it required all my determination to complete the task that was set before me. That task, I suppose, in that way is just like this business and the goals that I aspire to. I aspire to greatness in this business and that's a neverending climb. But I guarantee you that in my eyes its worth it.
It's worth every bruise, every bump, every shattered bone, and every drop of blood spilled on this canvas. I may have been good at what I did before I got into this ring, but this is what I enjoy doing. This is why I'm here before you tonight, and this is why, even after weeks of chasing some alcoholic Serbian asshole more than halfway across Europe, I'm still ready to get back into this ring and put my focus back on the matter at hand. I have people who need me here. I have fans who want to see me. And I have asses to kick.
Last week, I went up against a newcomer, Atlas Adams. Normally I pride myself on giving attention to my opponent and focus in my preparation. Last week, I did not give Atlas Adams the attention of focus that he deserved. And for that, I apologize. My opponents deserve better, and the fans deserve better. And now, with my mind back in the game, you are all going to get better than that. Atlas? Congratulations on your APW debut. Enjoy it. Keep the film of it. It's a good memory to cherish. Remember this, though. The next time you face me, don't expect it to be easy. Don't expect it to be like this time. Next time I will give you the fight you deserve and the intensity every opponent should be given.
And so, with intensity in mind and focus restored, it's time for that focus to shift to John Canyon. Another new name by my perspective, much the way a good number of the APW roster is at this point is still. I won't know much about you aside form the fact that you seem to know how to handle yourself in the ring with some measure of competency. Your file didn't say a whole hell of alot. So I'm going to have to base alot of what I know on the little blurb they wrote about you.
I'm gonna sum it up in a few words here chief. You seem like a douche. You are way too full of yourself for somebody who has alot to prove still. You want to walk around with a cocky attitude, then you're likely to find yourself facing the Death Sentence before you even get your shoes scuffed in that ring, do you understand me? You're looking at a man who's itching for a fight at this point because I'm tired of losing. I'm tired of not having the focus I need, and I'm tired of having to deal with crap that I left out of my life a long god damned time ago.
Translation? Bring your A-Game. You're in for a hell of a whooping. I don't care what wrestlers you idolized or if you want to be the gimmicky cliche bad guy or heel. That's right, I broke kayfabe. Just looking at the smug look on your face in your publicity stills makes me want to slap the fake n bake right off your skin. Let's be honest buddy boy, if you're from the great white north, you're not sunbathing on a daily basis. Like a friend of mine from Saskatoon tells me, you guys have two seasons...winter and construction. Doesn't leave much time for visiting the beach.
So long story short, I'm gonna go out on a limb right now and say that when we step into that ring, I'm not going to like you. I'm not going to respect you or try to earn yours. I'm going to think probably what I'm thinking right now. That you're a tool in need of a beating, and I'm just the man to deliver. So come on out at Overdrive, smile your smug little smile, and then get the taste slapped right out of your mouth. So let's go chief. Come get your heaping helping of my boot up your ass.
