Post by Anthony Bailey on Mar 9, 2014 21:01:21 GMT -4
“Alas! I had not then learned the measure of ‘man's inhumanity to man,’ nor to what limitless extent of wickedness he will go for the love of gain.” – Solomon Northup
Though things have drastically slowed down, life was once again starting to move at a rapid pace. It was like January 2012 all over again. Had it really been two years already?! Goodness gracious. That was the month of my professional wrestling debut here in APW and the very same month that my life changed forever. From a college campus to the inside of a ring with some of the greatest talent this sport has ever known was culture shock. I did nothing to deserve being here. Fast forward a year and a half later my PURE Wrestling debut on Veterans Day 2013 had been successful, and to top that off I had found a decent sized condominium in Seattle, the location of PURE’s headquarters, to stay while I was present in town for events. With all that went on and allowed my resilience from APW’s abrupt closure to be fully exposed, I knew that something else major awaited my participation…
But PURE wound up folding faster than a deck of cards and it made me realize something. It took me stepping back from Twitter and the spotlight for a bit to discover what fueled The Promise’s fire. I knew what motivated me when I first signed on the dotted line for APW and I knew what motivated me during that phone conversation with Callahan when we discussed me coming over to PURE, but how about now? My life up to that point had been marked by debuts and making a name for myself by climbing the ranks, but at this present moment it is marked by a finale and a grand finale at that. The closing chapter on something that I had not necessarily anticipated, but something that needed to happen…both for his sake and mine. I thought we had moved on from this particular situation but no. I was ready to cast out the biggest thorn my flesh had ever experienced once and for all. Two losses rained on my parade but one more win to break the tie? I was beginning to see clearly now because the fierce rain had finally disappeared.
I didn’t know how to necessarily feel about Rasslemania X though. This was the end of APW as I knew it. I cut my teeth and learned the ropes here but as of the end of this month, it’ll all be over for good. This is the place where I met my brother Jair Hopkins, the place that I won numerous accolades, the place where Sally Talfourd rejected my marriage proposal…okay that last one was a joke but still. Then there was my Last Man Standing match, my final singles match as an APW megastar. Should I play the confident role and fight fire with fire? Or should I just take the modest approach and let “good” overtake “evil” like it always does? But why even take on a “role” at all? Was it the uneasiness inside of me dominating? So many questions but not enough answers to go around. I certainly was curious to see how well I fared against Jason Cashe one last time, even though he had gotten the best of me during our last two encounters. But that’s what this business is comprised of…circumstances that are beyond your control. You must learn how to take everything at face value and roll with the punches. But then again when it comes to Cashe, I don’t proposition whether the punches should roll or not…I just let the pummeling proceed.
{{Using a hand towel, Cashe wipes the little perspiration from his forehead from the dancing. He turns around to where his duffel bag is located and shoves the towel in the bag. As he comes back to face Bailey, Jason Cashe isn't empty handed.}}
WWHHHHAAACCCKKK!!
{{One shot and the THONK echoes through the hallways as Bailey slaps backwards to the floor and Jason Cashe stands over him holding a Steel Pipe. He looks at the pipe and sees the dent from where it made contact with Bailey. It brings a smile to Cashe's face. He scans the area to make sure Bailey's buddies aren't close by before he squats down. Bailey moving slow, his forehead trickling with blood as it rolls off the side of his head and down into his right ear.}}
You probably will say you see this coming…maybe you did but you failed to stop it. What we had doesn't die with APW. What we had is unfinished. I will not ALLOW you to be equally tied with me inside the ring. We both have two wins and two losses and to me, this is a problem Bails!
{{Pushing up to a standing, Cashe grabs his duffel bag and pulls the same hand towel out. He looks around backstage once again and spots a few appearing names for the Survive & Conquer match but none of them are giving the scene a second glance. His eyes return to Bailey as "The Promise" begins to try and sit up. Cashe slams a foot into Bailey's rising chest and puts him back down onto his back.}}
We've been here before Bailey. You on the floor, me standing above you. This isn't new, this isn't even original but it sure in the hell is efficient and here I am doing it again because you are SO gullible, so easy to read and so quick to become my buddy. I've kidnapped your girlfriend, broken into your house and you greet me with a smile and handshake? You're weak Bailey...and I'm above you!
{{He drops his duffel bag and lowers down to one knee before his voice is heard once again.}}
So to break this tie, to end this debate of who is better...The exciting news I had to share? It's no secret APW plans on having one more event. RassleMania X! I don't care where it's held, where we are on the card, how many others give a d**n but you and I will meet...One...More...Time!*
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
God's a-going to trouble the water
See that host all dressed in white
God's a-going to trouble the water
The leader looks like the Israelite
God's a-going to trouble the water
See that band…
{{Suddenly, the Negro Spiritual is interrupted by the indignant plantation owner as the assembly of slaves are demanded to get back to work and keep all of the ruckus down. The plantation’s ambiance doesn’t look as typical as you’d think and there are quite a few symbolic images present. The words “Golden Boy” and “The Promise” can be seen in small print across the tattered garments of a few of the slaves. Boldly, one slave emerges from the crowd and steps forward to speak up on behalf of the other slaves. The slave is none other than Anthony Bailey. His bright face and warm smile haven’t been seen in the public eye for months and because of this, the scene is refreshing.}}
More eloquent than the rest, Bailey would always speak up on behalf of the slaves whenever an issue or dispute arose because he was better equipped to articulate his views from being educated in the North. A predicament like this was not out of the ordinary.
“Sir, may I ask what harm we are doing to the ears of those present by singing?”
{{The plantation owner’s bushy eyebrows raised in astonishment.}}
“I beg your pardon?!” he asked. “Who on earth gave you the authority to ever question me? Maybe someone needs a refresher, but who owns this plantation again, is it me or you?”
{{It was dead silent as the onlookers waited for things to get uglier.}}
“This is not a question of authority sir but an acknowledgement of privilege,” I responded.
If his eyebrows could rise any higher, they’d end up on the top of his head. Apparently you didn’t need to be educated to own a plantation in the pre Civil War era in the South. Simply being born into wealth was sufficient enough.
“Say one more smart thing boy and you’ll be flogged until sundown, do you understand me?! I own you so if you use that voice of yours it won’t be to disrespect me.”
{{He took a few steps closer wanting me to buckle at his intimidation.}}
“You may be the brightest and in charge of all the workers here but this is MY plantation and you will abide by MY rules!” he yelled as tiny droplets of his saliva hit my face
I stood at a crossroads but I stood there silent. I knew my place but who said that my position was the correct one? Most slaves wouldn’t have even pushed the envelope this far, so in my mind I was already making progress. What’s the worst thing that can happen? A beating? Pst.
“Just because something is a rule doesn’t mean that it is essentially correct,” I refuted.
“Alright that’s it!! I told you before and I’m not going to tell you again!” he yelled.
{{As the plantation owner whistled, the other slaves cried out in horror. Every time he whistled loudly that meant a flogging was imminent. Two of his large workers came from across the field with whips in hands as the owner spit in my face and begin rip my shirt off exposing my bare skin. I stood there with a stone cold face as we locked eyes.}}
“This is unjust…I will get my freedom one day and when I do, you will be the one that get’s a beating. You can count on that, Massa.”
{{The taunt earned me a punch right in the face. The male ego made me want to hit him back, despite the consequences, but as I went to strike his cheek, my fist was restrained by one of the large workers as the other began to beat the skin off of my back with a whip. I dropped to my knees in agony as the onslaught continued.}}
“Nooo!! He’s sorry, he’s sorry we say! Please let him go!!” screeched some of the slaves simultaneously.
“You all better shut your traps before you join your little friend over here! Now get back to work....or else…
{{The slaves scatter like roaches and continue on with their various duties pretending as if I am not being beaten into an oblivion. In the midst of the pain, I already knew that there was no way I’d be sleeping on my back tonight. This is simply the price of the call…this is the price of freedom…}}
It is not my intent to make this an issue of race, nationality, skin color, or creed but as I was thinking long and hard about which angle to verbally assassinate Cashe from, this immediately crossed my mind. Maybe it was divine fate or maybe it had to do with me tuning into the Oscars last week. I still think Leo was robbed but that’s another story for a different day. But regardless, the man we all know as Jason Cashe has attempted to enslave Anthony Bailey for nearly two years. And he hasn’t done this by writing President Obama and asking him to repeal the Emancipation Proclamation, but for two years he has tried to strong arm his way into my rights and into my liberties and destroy me. He caught wind of The Promise early and he had the chance to witness firsthand what I brought to the table but for whatever reason, he despised me. To his dismay and embarrassment, I was one step ahead of him and defeated him two times in a row. These victories propelled me into the spotlight and made me who I am this present day. If the student cannot outsmart the teacher then there’s no way that the slave should be able to outmaneuver the owner right? Maybe I was more valuable than Cashe had believed. This tore him apart emotionally because for once in his life he failed and even worse…he failed against a rookie. A man who was bred to rise above the odds and misfortunes in life failed to defeat a “college boy,” a “wimp,” a “snitch,” and the countless other names that he referred to me as.
But oh it gets better. The stars then align in his favor because then what happens? The following two go ‘rounds are awarded to him. Now he’s the victor and the one who has obtained bragging rights. The slave master proved us wrong and put his money where his mouth is, and that was a first since he’s usually putting his foot there instead. So things are cool and bygones are bygones right? We’re grown men so we know how to squash tension if there is any. Well things were cool…for a short season. We make peace and the fans are shocked. Even Jair Hopkins was floored because he’d never thought that Cashe and I would ever be able to even be in the same room with one another and not want to strangle each other, let alone get along. We started partying together, cracking on AJP together, life was good…but suddenly Cashe became aware of something. All of that time we spent lolly gagging and rubbing elbows with one another, we were getting closer to the Mason Dixon line.
In popular usage, the Mason Dixon line symbolizes a cultural boundary between the Northeastern and the Southern United States.
The compass app on his phone must have malfunctioned because he had no idea that were even headed north. All this time Mr. Cashe thought he was still in the South. Houston bred complacency in the mind of Jason Cashe and anything outside of that was foreign to him. Crossing this line meant freedom for me and since I was his slave and his inferior, he couldn’t let me reach that line. So the taunts on Twitter and sly remarks started up again. I’m thinking it was just him forgetting to take his bipolar medication but shame on me for trying to be sympathetic. Then the point of no return occurred at Survive & Conquer as he blind-sided me with his “good news.” The joke is on me though because I should have known that he was capable of betraying me. I know what type of person he is and unless a miracle happens, he’ll always be self seeking, envious, and hateful. It’s in his nature.
I never really understood why you weren’t fond of me Cashe. I never did anything to you but this vendetta that you have burdened yourself with for two years is harming you more than it has harmed me. The break-in at my townhouse? I was frustrated but you were the one that was arrested. Kidnapping Tasha? You were the one that had to once again evade the authorities because your criminal record is probably already filthier than the hands of a politician. You’ve caused me stress but I’ve caused you a great deal more haven’t I? So as much as you dislike me or the way that I dress or my haircut, you have to put up with it because I appear to occupy a great deal of your limited and miniscule mental capacity.
But come Rasslemania X, there’s no more shackles and no more chains because I’m free! Free to be the man that God created me to be despite what you think of me Jason. My time for emancipation has arrived and I will not be derailed. I’m not here to win your approval; I’m here to win a match and to be the last man standing. We both think that we’re going to be the last man standing, but the truth of the matter is that we can’t. There has to be only one winner. This is the final showdown so it’s all or nothing. The other four matches between us were good but to me they don’t exist after Rasslemania. This is the culmination point to everything we have already established. You’re a great competitor but I’m tired of overlooking your many flaws. Not your in-ring flaws but the flaws and the hangups outside of the ring…like your womanizing ways. You’re a two timing snake who cannot be trusted. I should have taken a play out of the KJE playbook a long time ago because she saw the light long before I did. I want to slap myself for even trying to befriend you after we made peace last year. Can scum and class even associate with each other? Maybe not on this planet or in this universe but the opportunities might provide itself in the near future. I learned that you cannot make peace with the enemy because the enemy shouldn’t be standing after the war. The enemy is to be decimated and that’s what I plan on doing with you. I can’t erase memories but I can erase the vast amount of pride that you possess. I can’t take back you breaking into my home or kidnapping my ex either. And don’t let me laying low these past few weeks fool you into thinking that I’m not a hundred percent ready for this match. I was born for this and live on earth to discard your type…the filth of the world. As the old Blue Notes song says “If you don’t know me by now you will never know me.” I am Anthony Bailey…APW’s only Promise…the only Promise that cannot and will not be broken. Until Toronto…
{{The scene slowly fades to black.}}
*Taken from Survive & Conquer 2014.
Though things have drastically slowed down, life was once again starting to move at a rapid pace. It was like January 2012 all over again. Had it really been two years already?! Goodness gracious. That was the month of my professional wrestling debut here in APW and the very same month that my life changed forever. From a college campus to the inside of a ring with some of the greatest talent this sport has ever known was culture shock. I did nothing to deserve being here. Fast forward a year and a half later my PURE Wrestling debut on Veterans Day 2013 had been successful, and to top that off I had found a decent sized condominium in Seattle, the location of PURE’s headquarters, to stay while I was present in town for events. With all that went on and allowed my resilience from APW’s abrupt closure to be fully exposed, I knew that something else major awaited my participation…
But PURE wound up folding faster than a deck of cards and it made me realize something. It took me stepping back from Twitter and the spotlight for a bit to discover what fueled The Promise’s fire. I knew what motivated me when I first signed on the dotted line for APW and I knew what motivated me during that phone conversation with Callahan when we discussed me coming over to PURE, but how about now? My life up to that point had been marked by debuts and making a name for myself by climbing the ranks, but at this present moment it is marked by a finale and a grand finale at that. The closing chapter on something that I had not necessarily anticipated, but something that needed to happen…both for his sake and mine. I thought we had moved on from this particular situation but no. I was ready to cast out the biggest thorn my flesh had ever experienced once and for all. Two losses rained on my parade but one more win to break the tie? I was beginning to see clearly now because the fierce rain had finally disappeared.
I didn’t know how to necessarily feel about Rasslemania X though. This was the end of APW as I knew it. I cut my teeth and learned the ropes here but as of the end of this month, it’ll all be over for good. This is the place where I met my brother Jair Hopkins, the place that I won numerous accolades, the place where Sally Talfourd rejected my marriage proposal…okay that last one was a joke but still. Then there was my Last Man Standing match, my final singles match as an APW megastar. Should I play the confident role and fight fire with fire? Or should I just take the modest approach and let “good” overtake “evil” like it always does? But why even take on a “role” at all? Was it the uneasiness inside of me dominating? So many questions but not enough answers to go around. I certainly was curious to see how well I fared against Jason Cashe one last time, even though he had gotten the best of me during our last two encounters. But that’s what this business is comprised of…circumstances that are beyond your control. You must learn how to take everything at face value and roll with the punches. But then again when it comes to Cashe, I don’t proposition whether the punches should roll or not…I just let the pummeling proceed.
---------------
{{Using a hand towel, Cashe wipes the little perspiration from his forehead from the dancing. He turns around to where his duffel bag is located and shoves the towel in the bag. As he comes back to face Bailey, Jason Cashe isn't empty handed.}}
WWHHHHAAACCCKKK!!
{{One shot and the THONK echoes through the hallways as Bailey slaps backwards to the floor and Jason Cashe stands over him holding a Steel Pipe. He looks at the pipe and sees the dent from where it made contact with Bailey. It brings a smile to Cashe's face. He scans the area to make sure Bailey's buddies aren't close by before he squats down. Bailey moving slow, his forehead trickling with blood as it rolls off the side of his head and down into his right ear.}}
You probably will say you see this coming…maybe you did but you failed to stop it. What we had doesn't die with APW. What we had is unfinished. I will not ALLOW you to be equally tied with me inside the ring. We both have two wins and two losses and to me, this is a problem Bails!
{{Pushing up to a standing, Cashe grabs his duffel bag and pulls the same hand towel out. He looks around backstage once again and spots a few appearing names for the Survive & Conquer match but none of them are giving the scene a second glance. His eyes return to Bailey as "The Promise" begins to try and sit up. Cashe slams a foot into Bailey's rising chest and puts him back down onto his back.}}
We've been here before Bailey. You on the floor, me standing above you. This isn't new, this isn't even original but it sure in the hell is efficient and here I am doing it again because you are SO gullible, so easy to read and so quick to become my buddy. I've kidnapped your girlfriend, broken into your house and you greet me with a smile and handshake? You're weak Bailey...and I'm above you!
{{He drops his duffel bag and lowers down to one knee before his voice is heard once again.}}
So to break this tie, to end this debate of who is better...The exciting news I had to share? It's no secret APW plans on having one more event. RassleMania X! I don't care where it's held, where we are on the card, how many others give a d**n but you and I will meet...One...More...Time!*
---------------
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
God's a-going to trouble the water
See that host all dressed in white
God's a-going to trouble the water
The leader looks like the Israelite
God's a-going to trouble the water
See that band…
{{Suddenly, the Negro Spiritual is interrupted by the indignant plantation owner as the assembly of slaves are demanded to get back to work and keep all of the ruckus down. The plantation’s ambiance doesn’t look as typical as you’d think and there are quite a few symbolic images present. The words “Golden Boy” and “The Promise” can be seen in small print across the tattered garments of a few of the slaves. Boldly, one slave emerges from the crowd and steps forward to speak up on behalf of the other slaves. The slave is none other than Anthony Bailey. His bright face and warm smile haven’t been seen in the public eye for months and because of this, the scene is refreshing.}}
More eloquent than the rest, Bailey would always speak up on behalf of the slaves whenever an issue or dispute arose because he was better equipped to articulate his views from being educated in the North. A predicament like this was not out of the ordinary.
“Sir, may I ask what harm we are doing to the ears of those present by singing?”
{{The plantation owner’s bushy eyebrows raised in astonishment.}}
“I beg your pardon?!” he asked. “Who on earth gave you the authority to ever question me? Maybe someone needs a refresher, but who owns this plantation again, is it me or you?”
{{It was dead silent as the onlookers waited for things to get uglier.}}
“This is not a question of authority sir but an acknowledgement of privilege,” I responded.
If his eyebrows could rise any higher, they’d end up on the top of his head. Apparently you didn’t need to be educated to own a plantation in the pre Civil War era in the South. Simply being born into wealth was sufficient enough.
“Say one more smart thing boy and you’ll be flogged until sundown, do you understand me?! I own you so if you use that voice of yours it won’t be to disrespect me.”
{{He took a few steps closer wanting me to buckle at his intimidation.}}
“You may be the brightest and in charge of all the workers here but this is MY plantation and you will abide by MY rules!” he yelled as tiny droplets of his saliva hit my face
I stood at a crossroads but I stood there silent. I knew my place but who said that my position was the correct one? Most slaves wouldn’t have even pushed the envelope this far, so in my mind I was already making progress. What’s the worst thing that can happen? A beating? Pst.
“Just because something is a rule doesn’t mean that it is essentially correct,” I refuted.
“Alright that’s it!! I told you before and I’m not going to tell you again!” he yelled.
{{As the plantation owner whistled, the other slaves cried out in horror. Every time he whistled loudly that meant a flogging was imminent. Two of his large workers came from across the field with whips in hands as the owner spit in my face and begin rip my shirt off exposing my bare skin. I stood there with a stone cold face as we locked eyes.}}
“This is unjust…I will get my freedom one day and when I do, you will be the one that get’s a beating. You can count on that, Massa.”
{{The taunt earned me a punch right in the face. The male ego made me want to hit him back, despite the consequences, but as I went to strike his cheek, my fist was restrained by one of the large workers as the other began to beat the skin off of my back with a whip. I dropped to my knees in agony as the onslaught continued.}}
“Nooo!! He’s sorry, he’s sorry we say! Please let him go!!” screeched some of the slaves simultaneously.
“You all better shut your traps before you join your little friend over here! Now get back to work....or else…
{{The slaves scatter like roaches and continue on with their various duties pretending as if I am not being beaten into an oblivion. In the midst of the pain, I already knew that there was no way I’d be sleeping on my back tonight. This is simply the price of the call…this is the price of freedom…}}
---------------
It is not my intent to make this an issue of race, nationality, skin color, or creed but as I was thinking long and hard about which angle to verbally assassinate Cashe from, this immediately crossed my mind. Maybe it was divine fate or maybe it had to do with me tuning into the Oscars last week. I still think Leo was robbed but that’s another story for a different day. But regardless, the man we all know as Jason Cashe has attempted to enslave Anthony Bailey for nearly two years. And he hasn’t done this by writing President Obama and asking him to repeal the Emancipation Proclamation, but for two years he has tried to strong arm his way into my rights and into my liberties and destroy me. He caught wind of The Promise early and he had the chance to witness firsthand what I brought to the table but for whatever reason, he despised me. To his dismay and embarrassment, I was one step ahead of him and defeated him two times in a row. These victories propelled me into the spotlight and made me who I am this present day. If the student cannot outsmart the teacher then there’s no way that the slave should be able to outmaneuver the owner right? Maybe I was more valuable than Cashe had believed. This tore him apart emotionally because for once in his life he failed and even worse…he failed against a rookie. A man who was bred to rise above the odds and misfortunes in life failed to defeat a “college boy,” a “wimp,” a “snitch,” and the countless other names that he referred to me as.
But oh it gets better. The stars then align in his favor because then what happens? The following two go ‘rounds are awarded to him. Now he’s the victor and the one who has obtained bragging rights. The slave master proved us wrong and put his money where his mouth is, and that was a first since he’s usually putting his foot there instead. So things are cool and bygones are bygones right? We’re grown men so we know how to squash tension if there is any. Well things were cool…for a short season. We make peace and the fans are shocked. Even Jair Hopkins was floored because he’d never thought that Cashe and I would ever be able to even be in the same room with one another and not want to strangle each other, let alone get along. We started partying together, cracking on AJP together, life was good…but suddenly Cashe became aware of something. All of that time we spent lolly gagging and rubbing elbows with one another, we were getting closer to the Mason Dixon line.
In popular usage, the Mason Dixon line symbolizes a cultural boundary between the Northeastern and the Southern United States.
The compass app on his phone must have malfunctioned because he had no idea that were even headed north. All this time Mr. Cashe thought he was still in the South. Houston bred complacency in the mind of Jason Cashe and anything outside of that was foreign to him. Crossing this line meant freedom for me and since I was his slave and his inferior, he couldn’t let me reach that line. So the taunts on Twitter and sly remarks started up again. I’m thinking it was just him forgetting to take his bipolar medication but shame on me for trying to be sympathetic. Then the point of no return occurred at Survive & Conquer as he blind-sided me with his “good news.” The joke is on me though because I should have known that he was capable of betraying me. I know what type of person he is and unless a miracle happens, he’ll always be self seeking, envious, and hateful. It’s in his nature.
I never really understood why you weren’t fond of me Cashe. I never did anything to you but this vendetta that you have burdened yourself with for two years is harming you more than it has harmed me. The break-in at my townhouse? I was frustrated but you were the one that was arrested. Kidnapping Tasha? You were the one that had to once again evade the authorities because your criminal record is probably already filthier than the hands of a politician. You’ve caused me stress but I’ve caused you a great deal more haven’t I? So as much as you dislike me or the way that I dress or my haircut, you have to put up with it because I appear to occupy a great deal of your limited and miniscule mental capacity.
But come Rasslemania X, there’s no more shackles and no more chains because I’m free! Free to be the man that God created me to be despite what you think of me Jason. My time for emancipation has arrived and I will not be derailed. I’m not here to win your approval; I’m here to win a match and to be the last man standing. We both think that we’re going to be the last man standing, but the truth of the matter is that we can’t. There has to be only one winner. This is the final showdown so it’s all or nothing. The other four matches between us were good but to me they don’t exist after Rasslemania. This is the culmination point to everything we have already established. You’re a great competitor but I’m tired of overlooking your many flaws. Not your in-ring flaws but the flaws and the hangups outside of the ring…like your womanizing ways. You’re a two timing snake who cannot be trusted. I should have taken a play out of the KJE playbook a long time ago because she saw the light long before I did. I want to slap myself for even trying to befriend you after we made peace last year. Can scum and class even associate with each other? Maybe not on this planet or in this universe but the opportunities might provide itself in the near future. I learned that you cannot make peace with the enemy because the enemy shouldn’t be standing after the war. The enemy is to be decimated and that’s what I plan on doing with you. I can’t erase memories but I can erase the vast amount of pride that you possess. I can’t take back you breaking into my home or kidnapping my ex either. And don’t let me laying low these past few weeks fool you into thinking that I’m not a hundred percent ready for this match. I was born for this and live on earth to discard your type…the filth of the world. As the old Blue Notes song says “If you don’t know me by now you will never know me.” I am Anthony Bailey…APW’s only Promise…the only Promise that cannot and will not be broken. Until Toronto…
{{The scene slowly fades to black.}}
*Taken from Survive & Conquer 2014.
