Post by The Cosplay Playboy on Aug 9, 2014 23:40:47 GMT -6
One Night Before SVW Climax
~~~~~
From the darkness enters light and as the camera lens began to record its surroundings, it found itself right at one of its natural habitats inside of the professional wrestling business. Fluorescent lighting, slightly dim, white brick walls and a part of the blue “Toronto Maple Leafs” logo on the side as the camera inside of the main locker room for the Leafs at Rogers Centre focus on the man sitting down on one of the wooden benches besides a locker with the name “Kadri” above it. Hockey is of no consequence at the exact moment for the man staring at the camera with pensive look on his face, draped in a black t-shirt with a green lit logo across it with his name on the back of it and the SVW logo on the right sleeve, his tights, boots and the remainder of his wrestling gear. A roll of tape rests in his left hand, having been taped up at this point. The gaze in his eyes doesn’t leave the lens as he finally begins to speak.
“They have dubbed this the Machine versus the Monster.”
Chris Strike doesn’t even flash the hint of a smirk, even when given the fitting nature of the marquee above his name and the name of his opponent on this night.
“Apt. Fitting in so many ways and yet, interpretative. Because from a few standpoints? David Williams, you and I can fit both the former and latter description of the marquee. You definitely are the one of the biggest and heaviest wrestlers that I will have faced in my entire thirteen year long career, one of the strongest to boot. You proved that part in New York City at the world’s most famous arena when you tossed me around like nobody’s business. You have the qualities of a monster in both your size and your strength. Your abilities, however, and your sense of pure obedience to a family member who deserves nothing more than a square kick to the nuts from everyone who he calls kin also represent just how mechanical you are. Not quite a Mechanical Animal – you’ve seen that one does to people with a bat first-hand a few weeks ago, if I recall correctly – but a rather machine like individual nonetheless.
You are somebody that can represent either side of the coin and yet, somehow, you’re labeled the monster of the equation. A powerful monster, one capable to destroy bodies thrown at your general direction with ease if you can get your hands on them in rude and crude manners. And yet, a foolish monster at the end of the day. But then again, we do foolish things for family…do we not, David?”
Strike looks up slightly, recalling his own experiences defending people that he’s considered “family” within this business over the years, although he never had the track record of having his entire family be part of a wrestling stable, even though they were just as dysfunctional during Christmas dinners.
“Your mechanism is programmed to serve and protect your family, to aid this so-called dynasty that your cousin Todd cherishes so damn much that he spells it with a capital D for that extra oomph on the cute slogans and the rare merchandise sales you all manage to somehow make. Unlike machines that are brought onto this world with the intent to better the world and those around it, you are the equivalent of something built out of a poor man’s Skynet and sent out to try and terminate anybody that makes Toddy boy’s bladder control go a little…haywire. So, like I said…you fit either the qualifications of a monster and that of a machine, David Williams.
Unfortunate for you…so do I.”
Strike claps his hands together, gradually coming up from his spot on the wooden bench and using it as support to lift himself to a vertical base, bringing the cameraman back two or three steps until he has all of Strike’s upper body onto the frame with a bit of his waist showing as Chris brings the roll of tape forward, beginning to wrap it around his right hand slowly, methodically beginning to cover every bit of it outside of his fingers.
“You know the basics over the past few weeks, David Williams. I’m the War Machine. I’m a man who changes any single human being that goes to war against me and the kind of War Machine that’s on the winning side of every single war he’s been inside of this wrestling business. Be it wars alongside Lyn Dallins as part of the Natural Disasters or in individual campaigns across many companies worldwide. You also have this notion that because you can throw me around like a rag doll that this is going to be some walk in the park for you – because monsters like you usually go unopposed by people of my size. David and Goliath analogies stand to this day because of people that share that state of mind, especially across this business, no matter how many times it’s been proven wrong in the past, present or future. You know small tidbits and pieces, and most importantly, you know that I’m a pain in your cousin’s ass since he is holding something that is my property and that I will claim back sooner or later.
But one who knows nothing can understand nothing…so I’m going to make you understand, David Williams.
I’m going to make you understand…”
At this point, Strike has already finished with the roll of tape past his hands and is now all the way up to the forearm, fully covering that area and the majority of an old, faded scar across the forearm from years past during a wrestling match that involved a barbed wire baseball bat that he protected himself against on instinct using the arm, the price he paid at the time being said scar and an arm that was swollen for many days.
“…why along with being a War Machine, that I can also be classified as a monster…”
Strike holds the tape wide with his left hand, bringing the right arm to his face as his teeth sunk down onto the tape, biting down onto it and ripping it apart before tossing the tape down onto the bench behind him and adjusting the loose strand of tape on his right arm and patting it down to the remainder of the wrapping already secured.
“David Williams, for thirteen years since stepping foot through those ropes, I have had no quarrels with doing what was necessary to succeed in this business. Whether it was sharpening my fangs alongside Lyn Dallins and fucking up every single living entity that stepped onto our path by any means necessary or during all of the years where a Brazilian-born man was deemed a God of Thunder by everyone who has ever seen fight, to a man who has won enough wars by himself or alongside some of the best in the business as a War Machine, I have done it knowing the path that I took wasn’t going the most squeaky clean of the bunch. I am far, FAR from being the prototypical good guy that crowds across the world deserve to see fighting the bigger evils inside of the squared circle, but unlike those prototypes, I am far more fitting to fight these types of wars.
I have been through the battles and have the scars to prove it. I know what it takes to win a war of this magnitude and do not get it twisted, David Williams. Here in SVW, we are at war against the Williams Dynasty! We know that you are trying to make a play for power as your fearless leader tries to take the Midas Touch from Wendigo. We know that your cousins, sisters, brothers, lovers and all else in between have nothing more than the goal to rule at the top of the food chain in mind. Just like Legendary, just like Anthony Gambini, just like any other faction that wants nothing more than its own people looking down at the rest of us like puny ants across many companies in the world of professional wrestling.
I may not be the prototypical good guy, but I am one of the only ones around here equipped to deal with your bullshit. But most importantly, I am more than willing to put your so-called dynasty six feet under if that’s what it takes to stop you!
Because I am the War Machine…and because unlike most good guys, I’m not afraid to let my monstrous side show its ugly face when the chips are down and when it’s necessary to fight fire with fire.”
Strike exhales, right hand slowly turning into a fist as he glances down onto it, realizing something as he reaches over onto the locker behind him with his left hand without breaking his gaze from the camera, his hand fumbling for a brief moment before enclosing around an object and bringing it forth. A sharpie, green in color. Opening the cap, Strike’s left hand carefully begins to write across it as he carries on with what he’s come here to stay without so much as letting his focus deter from it, even as his eyes turn away from the camera.
“I am sure this is the point in time where you doubt me, David Williams. Where both you and Todd probably laugh like the clowns that you are and consider my words nothing more than idle threats. Put in the same shoes as the two of you, I might have done the same…ten, eleven years ago in my career. But this is why there’s a body of work for you to follow, gentlemen. So go on, ask Christian Kane about how it felt like when I came back from injury with nothing more than the intent to destroy him and took a railroad spike to his face, forcing him to wear a mask. Or if he’s too far for you, how about you go ask Dante Knox how that felt? …Hell, how about you ask Mileena Savage, Rory O’Connell, Mikola Povola, Valerie Lamb, Genki Mitsuhide, some rat-faced looking douchetard whose name rhymes with Pirri, Luther Thunder and a hell of a lot more people about their battles against me and ask them exactly what you are in for, David Williams.
Because over thirteen years, I have one hell of a resume under my belt, boy. I have faced superstars, sensational ones, pure wrestlers, and even Gods & Monsters alike. And in no occasion have I been afraid to do what was necessary to win. Sometimes, it’s keeping it clean no matter what and proving, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are the better wrestler. But sometimes…oh, sometimes it’s about taking that kendo stick, or that steel chair, or that railroad spike…and smashing it across someone’s skull until it either breaks, folds or is too damn dull from the blood to get a clean blow in.
I had every intention in the world to put a stop to the Dynasty from the moment that every single of you decided to get in between me burying my knees onto homeboy Todd Williams’ back. But the moment that Todd took my Hall of Fame statue from me and got himself involved in my business? I won’t settle for anything less than your utter and complete annihilation.
And it starts here at Climax, David Williams…you and I, one-on-one, none of your family allowed to be anywhere near our vicinities. The Machine versus the Monster! And we’re going to do this in Pacific Rim fashion, David. You’re going to be the monstrous, strong Kaiju who scares everybody and who is going to perform feats of strength unimaginable to the common man and woman watching. You’re going to put a hurting on me and I walk into Toronto, Ontario, Canada – the city, province and country where I trained under the great Bryan Cade – knowing that for a fact.”
The cameraman narrows the shot, closing up on Strike’s face now as he dropped the sharpie and returned his gaze back to the camera.
“But just like the Jaegers of past and present, I’m going to eventually put you down by any means necessary. Unlike Pain Trains and Fat Cheetahs, I don’t have the pure, raw strength to match you. But I’ve got my smarts, I’ve still got technique and speed to run circles around you and most importantly, just like a machine, you will not be able to break me easily. You’ll try and try again, but you won’t be able to do it. I guarantee you this, David Williams…I will go to any length necessary to put you and the rest of the Williams Dynasty down. I will put anybody that threatens this company’s balance down. Because unlike one year ago, I get it now…this is what I’m supposed to do as a member of the old guard.
I need to protect this place, so that I can eventually pass it on to the future, to the hands of a younger, far more capable generation with the world there for their taking.
And for that purpose…I will be a Machine and a Monster, if needed be!
You are going to be the messenger to Todd Williams and what awaits him once I am done dealing with you, David. So bring your six-foot-eight, four hundred and fifty pound ass to the center of the ring come Climax. Bring every fiber of what you and your Dynasty can do! Show me how much of a fucking monster you can be…
Just remember that at the end of the day…monsters are meant to be slayed.
And there isn’t a damned thing that you…or your Dynasty…can do about it.
Deuces, bitch!”
Strike gradually brings up his right arm, showcasing EXACTLY what he wrote onto the tape in his right hand, going across two lines:
David Williams
Stephanie Sullivan
Fiona O’Dalaigh
Maia Lopez
Todd Williams
…And we fade to black.
~~~~~
From the darkness enters light and as the camera lens began to record its surroundings, it found itself right at one of its natural habitats inside of the professional wrestling business. Fluorescent lighting, slightly dim, white brick walls and a part of the blue “Toronto Maple Leafs” logo on the side as the camera inside of the main locker room for the Leafs at Rogers Centre focus on the man sitting down on one of the wooden benches besides a locker with the name “Kadri” above it. Hockey is of no consequence at the exact moment for the man staring at the camera with pensive look on his face, draped in a black t-shirt with a green lit logo across it with his name on the back of it and the SVW logo on the right sleeve, his tights, boots and the remainder of his wrestling gear. A roll of tape rests in his left hand, having been taped up at this point. The gaze in his eyes doesn’t leave the lens as he finally begins to speak.
“They have dubbed this the Machine versus the Monster.”
Chris Strike doesn’t even flash the hint of a smirk, even when given the fitting nature of the marquee above his name and the name of his opponent on this night.
“Apt. Fitting in so many ways and yet, interpretative. Because from a few standpoints? David Williams, you and I can fit both the former and latter description of the marquee. You definitely are the one of the biggest and heaviest wrestlers that I will have faced in my entire thirteen year long career, one of the strongest to boot. You proved that part in New York City at the world’s most famous arena when you tossed me around like nobody’s business. You have the qualities of a monster in both your size and your strength. Your abilities, however, and your sense of pure obedience to a family member who deserves nothing more than a square kick to the nuts from everyone who he calls kin also represent just how mechanical you are. Not quite a Mechanical Animal – you’ve seen that one does to people with a bat first-hand a few weeks ago, if I recall correctly – but a rather machine like individual nonetheless.
You are somebody that can represent either side of the coin and yet, somehow, you’re labeled the monster of the equation. A powerful monster, one capable to destroy bodies thrown at your general direction with ease if you can get your hands on them in rude and crude manners. And yet, a foolish monster at the end of the day. But then again, we do foolish things for family…do we not, David?”
Strike looks up slightly, recalling his own experiences defending people that he’s considered “family” within this business over the years, although he never had the track record of having his entire family be part of a wrestling stable, even though they were just as dysfunctional during Christmas dinners.
“Your mechanism is programmed to serve and protect your family, to aid this so-called dynasty that your cousin Todd cherishes so damn much that he spells it with a capital D for that extra oomph on the cute slogans and the rare merchandise sales you all manage to somehow make. Unlike machines that are brought onto this world with the intent to better the world and those around it, you are the equivalent of something built out of a poor man’s Skynet and sent out to try and terminate anybody that makes Toddy boy’s bladder control go a little…haywire. So, like I said…you fit either the qualifications of a monster and that of a machine, David Williams.
Unfortunate for you…so do I.”
Strike claps his hands together, gradually coming up from his spot on the wooden bench and using it as support to lift himself to a vertical base, bringing the cameraman back two or three steps until he has all of Strike’s upper body onto the frame with a bit of his waist showing as Chris brings the roll of tape forward, beginning to wrap it around his right hand slowly, methodically beginning to cover every bit of it outside of his fingers.
“You know the basics over the past few weeks, David Williams. I’m the War Machine. I’m a man who changes any single human being that goes to war against me and the kind of War Machine that’s on the winning side of every single war he’s been inside of this wrestling business. Be it wars alongside Lyn Dallins as part of the Natural Disasters or in individual campaigns across many companies worldwide. You also have this notion that because you can throw me around like a rag doll that this is going to be some walk in the park for you – because monsters like you usually go unopposed by people of my size. David and Goliath analogies stand to this day because of people that share that state of mind, especially across this business, no matter how many times it’s been proven wrong in the past, present or future. You know small tidbits and pieces, and most importantly, you know that I’m a pain in your cousin’s ass since he is holding something that is my property and that I will claim back sooner or later.
But one who knows nothing can understand nothing…so I’m going to make you understand, David Williams.
I’m going to make you understand…”
At this point, Strike has already finished with the roll of tape past his hands and is now all the way up to the forearm, fully covering that area and the majority of an old, faded scar across the forearm from years past during a wrestling match that involved a barbed wire baseball bat that he protected himself against on instinct using the arm, the price he paid at the time being said scar and an arm that was swollen for many days.
“…why along with being a War Machine, that I can also be classified as a monster…”
Strike holds the tape wide with his left hand, bringing the right arm to his face as his teeth sunk down onto the tape, biting down onto it and ripping it apart before tossing the tape down onto the bench behind him and adjusting the loose strand of tape on his right arm and patting it down to the remainder of the wrapping already secured.
“David Williams, for thirteen years since stepping foot through those ropes, I have had no quarrels with doing what was necessary to succeed in this business. Whether it was sharpening my fangs alongside Lyn Dallins and fucking up every single living entity that stepped onto our path by any means necessary or during all of the years where a Brazilian-born man was deemed a God of Thunder by everyone who has ever seen fight, to a man who has won enough wars by himself or alongside some of the best in the business as a War Machine, I have done it knowing the path that I took wasn’t going the most squeaky clean of the bunch. I am far, FAR from being the prototypical good guy that crowds across the world deserve to see fighting the bigger evils inside of the squared circle, but unlike those prototypes, I am far more fitting to fight these types of wars.
I have been through the battles and have the scars to prove it. I know what it takes to win a war of this magnitude and do not get it twisted, David Williams. Here in SVW, we are at war against the Williams Dynasty! We know that you are trying to make a play for power as your fearless leader tries to take the Midas Touch from Wendigo. We know that your cousins, sisters, brothers, lovers and all else in between have nothing more than the goal to rule at the top of the food chain in mind. Just like Legendary, just like Anthony Gambini, just like any other faction that wants nothing more than its own people looking down at the rest of us like puny ants across many companies in the world of professional wrestling.
I may not be the prototypical good guy, but I am one of the only ones around here equipped to deal with your bullshit. But most importantly, I am more than willing to put your so-called dynasty six feet under if that’s what it takes to stop you!
Because I am the War Machine…and because unlike most good guys, I’m not afraid to let my monstrous side show its ugly face when the chips are down and when it’s necessary to fight fire with fire.”
Strike exhales, right hand slowly turning into a fist as he glances down onto it, realizing something as he reaches over onto the locker behind him with his left hand without breaking his gaze from the camera, his hand fumbling for a brief moment before enclosing around an object and bringing it forth. A sharpie, green in color. Opening the cap, Strike’s left hand carefully begins to write across it as he carries on with what he’s come here to stay without so much as letting his focus deter from it, even as his eyes turn away from the camera.
“I am sure this is the point in time where you doubt me, David Williams. Where both you and Todd probably laugh like the clowns that you are and consider my words nothing more than idle threats. Put in the same shoes as the two of you, I might have done the same…ten, eleven years ago in my career. But this is why there’s a body of work for you to follow, gentlemen. So go on, ask Christian Kane about how it felt like when I came back from injury with nothing more than the intent to destroy him and took a railroad spike to his face, forcing him to wear a mask. Or if he’s too far for you, how about you go ask Dante Knox how that felt? …Hell, how about you ask Mileena Savage, Rory O’Connell, Mikola Povola, Valerie Lamb, Genki Mitsuhide, some rat-faced looking douchetard whose name rhymes with Pirri, Luther Thunder and a hell of a lot more people about their battles against me and ask them exactly what you are in for, David Williams.
Because over thirteen years, I have one hell of a resume under my belt, boy. I have faced superstars, sensational ones, pure wrestlers, and even Gods & Monsters alike. And in no occasion have I been afraid to do what was necessary to win. Sometimes, it’s keeping it clean no matter what and proving, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are the better wrestler. But sometimes…oh, sometimes it’s about taking that kendo stick, or that steel chair, or that railroad spike…and smashing it across someone’s skull until it either breaks, folds or is too damn dull from the blood to get a clean blow in.
I had every intention in the world to put a stop to the Dynasty from the moment that every single of you decided to get in between me burying my knees onto homeboy Todd Williams’ back. But the moment that Todd took my Hall of Fame statue from me and got himself involved in my business? I won’t settle for anything less than your utter and complete annihilation.
And it starts here at Climax, David Williams…you and I, one-on-one, none of your family allowed to be anywhere near our vicinities. The Machine versus the Monster! And we’re going to do this in Pacific Rim fashion, David. You’re going to be the monstrous, strong Kaiju who scares everybody and who is going to perform feats of strength unimaginable to the common man and woman watching. You’re going to put a hurting on me and I walk into Toronto, Ontario, Canada – the city, province and country where I trained under the great Bryan Cade – knowing that for a fact.”
The cameraman narrows the shot, closing up on Strike’s face now as he dropped the sharpie and returned his gaze back to the camera.
“But just like the Jaegers of past and present, I’m going to eventually put you down by any means necessary. Unlike Pain Trains and Fat Cheetahs, I don’t have the pure, raw strength to match you. But I’ve got my smarts, I’ve still got technique and speed to run circles around you and most importantly, just like a machine, you will not be able to break me easily. You’ll try and try again, but you won’t be able to do it. I guarantee you this, David Williams…I will go to any length necessary to put you and the rest of the Williams Dynasty down. I will put anybody that threatens this company’s balance down. Because unlike one year ago, I get it now…this is what I’m supposed to do as a member of the old guard.
I need to protect this place, so that I can eventually pass it on to the future, to the hands of a younger, far more capable generation with the world there for their taking.
And for that purpose…I will be a Machine and a Monster, if needed be!
You are going to be the messenger to Todd Williams and what awaits him once I am done dealing with you, David. So bring your six-foot-eight, four hundred and fifty pound ass to the center of the ring come Climax. Bring every fiber of what you and your Dynasty can do! Show me how much of a fucking monster you can be…
Just remember that at the end of the day…monsters are meant to be slayed.
And there isn’t a damned thing that you…or your Dynasty…can do about it.
Deuces, bitch!”
Strike gradually brings up his right arm, showcasing EXACTLY what he wrote onto the tape in his right hand, going across two lines:
Stephanie Sullivan
Fiona O’Dalaigh
Maia Lopez
Todd Williams
…And we fade to black.
