| SCW Grudge Match: Omen vs. Dorling | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 28 2013, 03:57 PM (174 Views) | |
| Bobbie Hearst | Mar 28 2013, 03:57 PM Post #1 |
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1 rp per person Deadline April 5th, 5pm EST 4,000 word limit |
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| Omen | Apr 4 2013, 04:01 PM Post #2 |
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I really don't like you... Raffles Hotel Kallang, Singapore Omen is sat in his hotel room at the raffles Hotel in Kallang, Singapore, just a few hours away from stepping into the ring to face Shelbi Lynn Carter in the first of three matches he will have in the coming weeks as part of the tournament to decide who gets a shot at the SCW Global Title. Even though he should really be concentrating on the matter at hand his mind can't help but wander to the end of the week. After Wildcard he will fly to Rio De Janiero, Brazil to wrestle in Visionary Wrestling's One Night in Rio Show, and his opponent will be non other than his boss, and the CEO of Sin City Wrestling. Considering he still is in contract negotiations with the guy this is a messed up situation he finds himself in, he'd thought to himself as he sat there thinking about all the things he could and would do to Dorling, of the hatred he had for this man. He opens the laptop of his computer and switches it on, waiting an age for the windows logo to finally show up, he enters his password and logs on, waiting now for everything to load in before switching on his web cam. He positions it on the table and sets it up so that he can be seen clearly and records a bit, watching it back to test how clear the sound is and that the picture is as he wants it. He deletes the old clip he just recorded and restarts the web cam. Omen: “Well hello Visionary Wrestling Fans, some of you may probably not know who I am, others will already be acquainted with me and my organization and what we do, but for those of you who have no idea who I am let me introduce myself anyways as I find it is always useful to remind people especially you wrestling fans as most have the memory of a Goldfish and the matching low intelligence to go with it. I, am Omen, I hail from the Motor City of Detroit Michigan, I weigh the right side of two hundred and fifty pounds, and I am the current and reigning Sin City Wrestling Hardcore Champion, the most dominant Male Hardcore Champion in Sin City Wrestling history; the guy that has single-handed re-invigorated the Hardcore division and put asses on seats in every single arena that I have been to where I have had to defend my title or not, see I'm not a guy that has a torch passed on to him, I'm the guy that sets the standard and then challenges others to try competing at my level, and so far only one person has managed that and even she couldn't get the job done no matter what she threw at me.” “Now bearing all that in mind, knowing I've busted by ass for the past ten months at SCW, and been the loyal company guy despite all the bullshit I've had to deal with, you'd think I'd have been rewarded for my loyalty and all my hard work especially when you consider it nearly three months since I last lost a match and that loss wasn't just to anyone but to the legend that is Stu Who.” “But no, instead of getting a title shot, I get shit all over by the little rat bastard in charge of Sin City Wrestling just because I have the nerve to know my worth not just to SCW but to any other company that may want to come to me with a lucrative multimillion dollar contract rather than the developmental contract I have been on. Yes you heard that correctly, nine months as Hardcore Champion bar about half an hour in the Hardcore Time Limit Title Match at 'No Limit' in December, and I was only ever on a curtain jerkers contract because they never wanted me to succeed or to be anything more than cannon fodder for the big names like Extream, Adrian Specter, Insomnia and whoever else they thought worthy of the chances that were never afforded to me, the chances that I deserved and never got. Then he gets all defensive and acts like it's not his fault when I question why a piece of shit like Sam Strachon gets a shot at the title through the Sure Shot ladder match when he's not earned paid dues in SCW, yet I have to go through a bullshit tournament that is a waste of my time.” “And this is all down to one man, and one man alone, and that is you Dorling.” “What you are going to see at 'One Night In Rio isn't just the story of one guy that doesn't like their boss and wants to beat the unholy hell out of them, although maybe that could be said to be partially true as I will be going to the ring to inflict as much damage onto Dorling as physically possible, and I don't care if I get disqualified, arrested, I'm going to fuck him up and for once he won't be able to run or hide like the cowardly sack of shit he is, like he did in December at the 'No Limit' Pay-Per-View.” He reaches down and picks something up from the floor, it is only when he turns it around that you can see that it is the Sin City Wrestling Hardcore Title belt, which he drapes over his shoulder making sure it is secure before he looks in the camera and continues talking. Omen: “You have made numerous piss-poor attempts to try to screw me over at every turn while I have been Hardcore Champion, at every attempt to defend my title like a good champion you've tried to turn it into a no-win situation but guess what, I walked out every time as the champion, even at the Hardcore Time Limit Title match I prevailed despite you're best efforts and blind sighting me like the cowardly bastard that you are, you've failed every time, you're best simply wasn't good enough.” “You see I know what you're problem with me is, but to tell it requires a history lesson so let's go back to March last year, I've left the last promotion I was with after feeling that I was never going to get the chance I deserved, and I show up in Las Vegas looking for work, a friend points me in the direction of SCW and I meet the then boss and a couple of his associates, the meeting goes well and he offers me a contract, a developmental contract to begin with on the understanding that should I prove myself I'd be offered a much more lucrative contract, of course I signed after all I understood the need for me to prove myself to everyone before being given a full contract, but that never happened.” “You can say he was fired, I could say that a better description would be to say you usurped him, worked behind his back to manipulate the situation so that you would end up with his job, we'll have to agree to disagree on this but the guy gave me my job, gave me a break in SCW and my only genuine title shot to date after fairly quickly realizing what I was capable of and that all I needed was just one shot at the title, so of course I am loyal to the guy that was good to me, you however, you're another prospect entirely.” Omen reaches out of view grabbing a folding steel chair which was laying against the wall, he unfolds it, places it down on the floor giving it a quick test by pressing down on it to make sure it's secure before sitting down on it, the belt that was on his shoulder and is now confined to the bag is at his feet. He takes a second or two before he addresses the camera again. Omen: “I'm not being egotistical when I say that I always knew what I was capable of doing in this company and under the regime at the time I was rewarded for making the effort, for putting in the work and effort and showing that I was capable of much more than being simply a Hardcore Champion, hell considering some of those old fat bastards, these fucking has-beens that you employ I managed to make the majority of them still look good, and I have been doing that every time I've stepped into the ring with any of these so called opponents you've put in my path as a roadblock to my continued success, a success that I have worked for without the assistance of you or any of your staff despite how many claims to the contrary you may make.” “On your first 'Wildcard' in charge you made a main event match involving all four champions, you're claiming now that you gave me my big break in a main event match, don't make me fucking laugh, If I hadn't have been the Hardcore Champion it wouldn't have mattered what I'd achieved I'd have never been put in that match, it wasn't me that you were putting in that match, it was purely to showcase the four title belts and the fact that you were supposedly making a big statement of intent which as just like you're failed wrestling career didn't quite live up to the hype or potential you gave it.” “No matter how much back slapping you have tried to do, from that first time you called me into your office I knew what you were and that was an untrustworthy son of a bitch. I was wise to you and as soon as I knew the type of person you were I never took what you said to me at face value because I knew you were lying.” “As I said I would not have been main event that night or any other night no matter how many matches I'd won, and for the record and I know I just said this before too but I am going to reiterate it for anyone that wasn't paying attention, from the last match I lost which was on the ninth of January versus Stu Who, till early April I had gone three months straight without defeat, not a bad record considering how little people consider me as a serious contender for the top titles and how little credit I get for my achievements.” “From mid-January this year I have gone nearly three months undefeated, eight matches in a row where where I have faced whoever has been put in front of me and I've either defeated them or in two instances we have had a referee incapable of doing their job and who had no right being in the ring to begin with. All that of course says just about everything that needs to be said when it comes to what I can do in the ring, I deserve better than being Hardcore Champion, I deserve better than being treated like some green rookie and made to wait and wait till my contracts is nearly at an end before you decide to grace me with any negotiations and even then it was me that had to get you're attention to the fact I was going to walk out of SCW with the Hardcore Title.” “And how do you react, you act like a little bitch because I question you're leadership of the company when you are too wrapped up in you're own self importance to even notice one of you're champions, the longest reigning current champion, is about to walk away. But then when I decide I’m going to walk away and take your precious title belt with me it makes you finally spring into action. Except you are so fucking stupid, or maybe you think I am stupid or desperate enough and think you can get me to put my signature on a new contract by putting me in a bullshit tournament for the SCW Global Title, a long shot because first I have to win the tournament of myself and three other wrestlers by being the one at the top of the table when we have all had our individual matches against each other, but do I get the title shot I deserve, of course I don't because you have to play your stupid God damn games, so being the lying manipulative little cunt you are then I have to face Doug and Cash for the title in 'Rage In A Cage'. So I have to beat 5 different opponents for the title YOU know and everyone else knows I deserve more than any man or woman in the locker room of that company, you got to be fucking kidding me if you think I am going to believe that complete and utter pile of horse shit. I know you do not want me to get my hands on the Global Title Dorling, I know damn well that you know when I and my Brotherhood get our hands on the Global Title it will signal the beginning of the end for anyone is SCW that opposes us, admit it Chris, you are shit scared of that happening, that's why you're putting out all the stops to throw as many obstacles in my path to stop me getting the SCW Global Title or even a fair shot at a match for it.” “The only option left open to me Dorling is to make sure you are in no condition to return to SCW to continue you're role as CEO of the company, then and only then would I ever get a chance at the SCW Global Title, then and only then would we in the Brotherhood get a fair deal, so thank you Visionary Wrestling Inc for scheduling this match on one of you're pay per view events, and for taking the risk of broadcasting a match that will be so violent, so brutal, that you might be taken off air because I promise the fans, ViW, but especially you Dorling, unlike 'No Limit' when you blind sighted me and got a cheap pin, I'll be stood in front of you, and you will not be able to do it a second time, neither will you be able to run from the inevitable.” “Dorling after we fight 'One Night In Rio', and trust me this will be no wrestling match but a fight for survival on your behalf that you WILL eventually lose, I will walk away from that ring, and you will be wheeled out on a gurney due to the beating you have suffered at my hands but it will not be over, it will never be over until I have removed you from power over at Sin City Wrestling, I don't care what I have to do to you or to my own body to inflict as much damage on you as I can, If you want rid of me you will have to fucking kill me, you are one of the biggest pieces of crap I have had the displeasure of working for, but that's OK, You can dangle the carrot of a Sin City Wrestling Global Title shot in front of me pretending it would be a fair contest when I know it will be anything but that, you can throw Shelbi, Ex and that bastard Jason Scene in my path, I have beaten two of the three of them and third is a case of been there Scene it all before, if you will.” “I'm not so stupid as to believe just because I'll soon be out of contract you're going to suddenly give me a viable shot at the title, out of the fucking blue, I know you have plans, plans that include screwing me at every opportunity you get, I know you are going to try and screw me over like you did Doug E. Fresh.” “The fans here in Visionary deserve to know what a lying, untrustworthy piece of shit you are and I believe tonight I have outlined every reason why they should treat you with the same type of contempt I hold for you, but also why they should not judge me too harshly when I do what I am going to do to you because I can guarantee you something... this isn't going to end well for you or Sin City Wrestling,one way or another I am going to ensure that this is not just you're last match, but the last time you ever walk into an arena under your own volition.” He picks up a piece of paper which is on the table next to the laptop, it's not clear at first what it is until he brings it more clearly into view of the camera lens, and then you can see the SCW logo on the same cover sheet that Omen posted up on his twitter account, and as he opens the document to the next page it's prominent feature on the page is the letterhead at the top of the page, Omen turns the page over and you can see on the last page where he has signed it and dated it 2nd April 2013, the space next to it however where it should be counter-signed by someone representing SCW is blank. Omen: “And it's so funny to think that this past week on Twitter I was chasing Dorling down, trying to get him to arrange for a meeting so I could re-sign with Sin City Wrestling only for a couple of days later be here in Visionary, with the World watching as I beat that son of a bitch from one corner to the next until I get bored and can't beat him any longer at which point I am going to drag his bloody broken body to the center of the ring and pin him one... two... three. You see I won't need to give you my 'Bad Omen', hell you're not even worth the waste of my time and effort of me hauling your worthless ass up onto my shoulders, you are nothing but a cockroach that needs to be stepped on, so allow me to be the boot that crushes you like the little insignificant little insect you are.” “It seems kind of appropriate that the show is billed as One Night In Rio because when people look back to this show, to the most significant event of the show, the only thing they will want to talk about is the brutal encounter between Omen and Dorling, this won't be remembered as a classic encounter, or one of the most technical wrestling matches in the history of wrestling, but for one thing and for one thing only, and that will be as the night where I ended your career as a wrestler once and for all, with no chance of you ever returning again.” Edited by Omen, Apr 4 2013, 04:04 PM.
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| Dorling | Apr 5 2013, 06:14 AM Post #3 |
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As he leans back in the leather chair on the Sin City Wrestling Corporate jet, GM1, he paints the picture of a man contented with what he has. He paints a picture of a man that doesn’t take things too seriously, preferring not to be bogged down with the finer details but instead focussing on the bigger picture. To those that work with him, who see him in his professional position, he paints the picture of a man who does not enjoy business dealings and has no mind for number crunching. He paints the picture of a man in a state of eternal calm, a man whose temperature rarely reaches above ice cold and has tolerance stretching to Mars. He paints the picture of a man that laughs off conflict, that grins slyly in the face of criticism and merely improves and adapts when things go wrong. He paints the picture of a man that merely drinks his cocktail, eats his popcorn and does what needs to be done, as long as it isn’t boring. He is a great artist, a true illusionist. Why do I say this? I say this because the man paints a wonderful picture. A fanciful and daring image, thrust before our eyes to amaze and surprise. He is a sculptor of the truth, a master at work. He paints a picture that is indeed the very thing it claims to be – a picture. An artistic representation, a caricature, a camouflage. He deceives the eyes and excites the mind. He is simply a man with a paint brush and an imagination, and his vision enthrals all of those around him. They do not see the man before the canvass, creating the image. You see, the truth about the man is far different from the image he projects to us all. He’s a veritable chameleon, a Mr Ripley, a man that can wear many hats and suits. The truth about him? He loves the business stuff. He loves looking at profit projections and merchandising sales. He loves looking at viewing figures and maximising advertising revenue. The finer details? In his eyes they are the finest of details, to be savoured and poured over. And taking things seriously? This man knows his business and he knows when he has to act with extreme prejudice. He knows when people need to be told and he knows exactly how to tell them. He's not afraid to make the big decisions or to tell people bad news. He's not averse to cutting people loose or taking a gamble. His temper, while even and cold is not entirely endless. Those that oppose him and push him to that limit will certainly be aware of that fact. His personality, jovial and carefree while he wears his fine suits and drinks his fine wine is gladiatorial and confrontational in the face of those that choose to call him out. He is unwavering and steadfast in his beliefs and in his habits and rarely does he get coaxed out of his cave without a clear idea of what he will to and who he will do it to. He is born to win, whether by force, skill or cunning and he takes as much pride from leaving penniless as leaving you broken. On the occasion that he is contracted into combat he becomes indomitable, confident to the point of arrogance and thirsty for success. His spirit cannot be crushed and he will not lay down until physically unable to do so. Those that have pushed him to that point are few and far between. He paints pictures. He destroys egos. He builds reputations. He makes business work. He is Dorling. <><><> Dorling hits the call button on his laptop as he leans back in the private lounge at Singapore Changi airport. The screen clicks into life and his shaven headed Russian friend Vitaly Petrovich's face appears. Vitaly is one of Dorling's oldest friends. He met him in Europe while doing some wrestling shows. Vitaly moved to Australia in his teens and runs a company that provides bouncers and training for entertainment venues – he also co-owns a bar in Brisbane. 'Hey, big man! How goes it down under?' 'Australia is good. Business is going fine and occasionally wrestling.' 'Excellent my man. Turns out I'm wrestling in Rio this weekend!' 'I thought you were in Asia?' 'I'm a man of the world, a jet setter.' 'Ah yes, you have the private jet these days. Perhaps Vitaly will join you one day soon?' 'I'll stock up the vodka supply especially! It can't be like that time in Arlington though, I prefer sleeping on cushioned, warm surfaces.' 'I sleep where I fall.' 'Too right. Just don't hurt yourself.' 'Haha, I feel not the pain! Who is this jackass you fight?' 'His name is Omen. Really has a thing about me. Man crush maybe, I dunno.' 'Why so much hate from him?' 'Thinks I'm screwing him over or something. He was a hardcore scrapper before I came along, now he rarely goes two weeks without featuring in the main event.' 'Some people are no grateful.' 'Some people need a kick upside the head.' A shadow looms over Dorling's shoulder. 'Speaking of which...' He turns around to see Katy Calloway standing there. It has been nearly two years since he's since her in the flesh. Katy is a singer/songwriter/actress/traveller/free spirit. Dorling met her 5 or 6 years ago, he can't really remember exactly. She was singing in a band at Rock City in Nottingham, England while Dorling was living there. He immediately figured her to be interesting. They started chatting and before either of them knew it she was living in Vegas, watching him wrestle and performing in bars. She also started going out with an aspiring director, and then a wannabe music producer, moving on to a performance poet. Nobody was able to tie her down. Dorling has never tried – it's weird to him. She's a hot lady, that can't be denied. She likes and performs good music, she is infinitely cool but he has never been attracted to her in that way. She's more like the sister he's never had. She can switch from compadre to annoying to someone to that inspires jealousy. Dorling has a reputation for not taking things seriously – everybody knows this – but Katy takes it to another level. No matter what situation she finds herself in she always comes out smelling of roses, to the extent that he has no idea how she finances her worldly travels. Her presence in Singapore is a complete surprise, but his mind immediately jumps to a 'surprise' that Savva subtly mentioned a couple of days ago. She's cunning, and though he won't go overboard to show it when he gets up to hug her, he's very happy to see her. She leans over his shoulder and looks at the laptop screen. 'Hey Vitaly! How's Oz?’ 'Katy! Glad to see you made it to Singapore safely. Australia treats me well as always.' ‘What, you knew she was coming?' 'I know everything.' 'Well, what an ambush.' 'I go now. Rookies have come to me for security training. I have spirits to break.' 'Ok big man, we'll catch up when I get back to Vegas.' 'Dasvidanya my friend.' The skype call ends and Dorling closes his laptop. He looks over his shoulder and grins before getting out of the chair and throwing his arms around his old friend. 'Come here you!' She drops her back to the floor and rests her head on his shoulder. 'It's been too long.' 'Well if you weren't such a bigshot corporate hooligan these days perhaps I'd see you more often.' 'Lies! I'd never screen a call from you or turn down a meeting! Where have you been anyway?' 'Erm...Toronto, London, Paris, Seoul, Cape Town, Wellington. You know, around.' 'Anywhere you haven't been, other than Vegas of course?' 'Finland.' 'Matter of fact as always!' Dorling sits back down and Katy takes her place opposite him. 'How's Mrs D?' ‘You know, around.' 'Haha!' 'So, what are you doing here Miss Calloway?' 'Well I fancied a little trip to Rio, if there's space on your opulent corporate jet of course?' Dorling takes a sip of water from the bottle in front of him. 'Yeah, I reckon I could squeeze you in!' ‘I should think so too!’ Katy nods a thank you to the waitress as she puts a glass of red wine on the table in front of her. ‘I paid for that didn’t I?’ ‘You know the drill! So what’s this I hear about you getting back in the ring again? I thought all of this macho bravado stuff was behind you?’ ‘Ah, still nice and dismissive of my craft I see!’ ‘It’s not that! I thought you were fed up of the bumps and the pain and wanted to be a force in the board room rather than in the ring?’ ‘You’re right; there is definitely something refreshing about not getting kicked in the face repeatedly, but there is something awfully fake about the politics of business.’ Dorling holds up his fists. ‘These can’t lie.’ ‘So who’s the unlucky person that has earned your wrath?’ ‘You really haven’t done any research at all have you? Just thought you’d turn up and grab a free plane ride to Brazil huh?’ ‘Oh shut up, I’m only asking to be nice.’ Dorling grins at her. ‘His name is Omen. He has a massive problem with me and the way I run the show.’ ‘Are you using your tyranny to hold back the genuinely talented?’ ‘You sure you haven’t been watching the show? Anyway, he’s been bitching and moaning, contradicting himself. First he was mad that he apparently got overlooked all of the time and refused to sign a new contract. Now he’s mysteriously fighting for a shot at the big time and is all butthurt because I haven’t yet signed said contract.’ ‘And why not?’ ‘To wind him up obviously. He needs to be reminded who the boss is. His constant disrespect is annoying. I’m not going to let him dictate to things to me. He doesn’t suddenly get to sign a new deal because he’s ready.’ ‘Making a rod for your own back again?’ ‘I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that this match wasn’t absolutely necessary, that I have inflamed the situation, that the match is just an excuse for me to have a little play in the ring.’ ‘That’s exactly what I think, and I dare say it’s not a million miles from the truth.’ ‘You’re probably right.’ Dorling pats his left thigh. ‘But this guy here was anxious to get some action. It’s been a while.’ <><><> It’s a few hours into the Johannesburg – Sao Paulo leg of the flight to Rio. We’re on board SCW GM1. Panikos Savva has fallen asleep in front of his MacBook while Katy Calloway has retired to the bedroom to sleep. Dorling is sitting by himself, gazing out of the window with a glass of scotch. He cups it in both hands as he looks into the camera. ‘Omen, Omen, Omen. You truly have no idea what you have managed to get yourself into. You seem to have this misconception that being a Damien Lester knockoff and making shallow threats to me somehow guarantees a victory over me. You seem to think that I’ve lost my edge because I have a nice office and more money than I could have ever dreamed of while I was breaking myself weekly in the ring. You sir, are an idiot. Everything you’ve done over the time since I arrived in SCW has had a direct effect on screwing yourself over, yet your paranoid, delusional finger continues to point at me. It’s pathetic. You are approaching this with the mentality of a child. I’ve listened to your whining and complaining over the last few months and Rio is where the line is drawn, where enough is enough. Your habit of not letting the facts get in the way of a good reason to complain has set you up to have a REAL reason to complain. The inconsistency in your statements and your irrational apparent hatred of everything has landed you in severe trouble. I am an extremely proficient, focussed and effective wrestler and I am ready to tear you apart. I’m ready to pick you off piece by piece, take you down a notch, shut your complaining mouth for good. I’ve had enough of hearing your delusions, like a fly buzzing around the room.’ Dorling takes a sip of the scotch and rolls the glass playfully between his hands. ‘Your lack of logic is truly troubling. Your career is at its peak and it has only got there since I took over the company. You were nothing but a hardcore sideshow when I arrived, but now you barely go a couple of weeks without featuring in the main event. Even with your annoying personality and troop of wannabe Hell’s Angels following you around I have allowed you that privilege. I allowed you your first main event in the company, and several more. Yet I am accused of holding you back, trying to restrict your chances. You have frequently accused me over the last several months of cheap shotting you, attacking you from behind in the Hardcore Time Limit Title Match at No Limit. How? I put my name on the list of official entrants. You knew I was in the match and you knew I was coming for you, yet you were unprepared – and this is my fault? Face it, you poked the bear and then cried when he bit back, and it wouldn’t be the first time. You’d think somebody that had ‘revitalised’ the hardcore division of SCW – and I agree to an extent – would be proud of their achievements and grateful for the opportunity to be the man that has garnered such praise from SCW Hall of Famers as David Cyclone. Would somebody that is ‘trying to hold you back’ or ‘continuously screw you over’ allow such a thing to happen? I very much doubt that. You allow your sycophantic little playgroup to perpetuate your misguided notion that you are a victim here, yet just a couple of weeks after you stood against MY SCW, after you stood ALONGSIDE THE SINISTRY in a fight that could have ended my tenure permanently…you are in a tournament to decide who gets to stand alongside Doug E Fresh and JT Cash in Rage in the Cage when we get to Japan. Would a boss that is anything other than fair and appreciative of in ring achievements allow that to happen? Would a boss with a vendetta potentially allow not one but TWO enemies of his company and his position headline one of his pay per views? According to you, yes. Your continued misunderstanding of fairness lead you into a contract standoff, apparently this was my doing too. As you frequently state, I’m not the boss that signed you, not the one that gave you your big break in SCW. So guess what? I’m not the one that signed your development contract. And when I took over, I was employed by the board of directors who made all financial decisions – I still have little idea who is on what contract and to be honest, I don’t care about that stuff. If you had mentioned your contract when I started I probably would have just offered you a new one, but now I’m the bad guy for not doing so after 6 months of continued hate and bile being pitifully sent my way by you and your gang? Really?’ He sips the scotch and admires it’s ferocity for a moment. ‘Your stance on the contract would have been admirable if founded in truth. Even when a man’s beliefs are as contrived and incorrect as yours I respect a man that stands up for them. So while it’s nonsense that you have been held back, at least you were steadfastly sticking to your faith in that alleged fact by not signing new paperwork. But face it, you folded like a card castle when you got a sniff of the Global Championship. You have repeatedly stated that what you have been granted is not a real ‘shot’ but just a sham, a mockery of the idea of Omen being Global Champion. Fine, if that’s your belief then stick to it and at least show some gumption to go with your complete abandonment of logic. But no, all of a sudden you’re knocking at the door, trying to get a meeting to sign a new deal. What? Why? I thought this tournament was another excuse to screw you over? If that’s the case why not just leave? You’ve shown your true colours. You’ve allowed your head to be turned. You’ve proved to me that you’re just as greedy for the Global Championship as the rest. Your decision to suddenly turn around and wave the contract about displays that no, I’m not screwing you over. I’ve given you a very real, very legitimate shot at my top championship. A shot that Adrien Specter never got. A shot that Sabra Nikolayev never got. A shot that Marko Flins never got. Many would argue that they should have done, and I will state that they probably would have if they had stayed. Of course, you fail to recognise that, while you are in a tournament to get a shot now, when you faced Strike you were one win away. You had to put your Hardcore Title on the line to get it? So what! If you want to be hardcore champion forever why would you be so upset at me apparently holding you back? You’re a walking contradiction, a man that seemingly can’t trust the words that are coming out of his mouth as they betray him with every syllable. Your mistakes are plenty and are serious. You continue to bait me, continue to slander and disrespect me. Did you really think I would let it slide? Despite your accusations that I have screwed you over on ‘many occasions’ and your abject failure to name even one specific example, despite your name calling and your threats of violence, I have remained fair and equal. I have allowed you to continue as the Hardcore Champion, allowed you to exist as a Sin City Wrestling Superstar, allowed your career to flourish. Despite your mistakes you are flying high in my company. But you have made one mistake too many, and the biggest mistake you have made is to be punished in Rio.’ Dorling puts the scotch down on the table in front of him. ‘What is that mistake, you ask? I’ll lay it out nice and simply for you. You pissed me off MOTHERFUCKER. I’ve dealt with jackasses like you before, the gravitate towards greatness such as mine, hoping to leech some of the success, some of the respect away. I have an extremely long fuse. I’ve allowed you to continually break the rules, I’ve allowed you to compete in the main event spotlight against the very best, I’ve allowed you to hold on to your belt and build a legacy. Through it all I have absorbed your hate and attempted to persuade you improve your behaviour and adjust your attitude but you have failed to do so. You have poked and prodded and now it’s time for me to prod back and I am going to seriously punish you. Everything you have done has signalled a criminal lack of respect for man such as I. A man that has defeated people like the True Expert Doug E Fresh, the departed Insomnia, the legendary MDK. A man that is a former SCW United Champion and the man to have taken the company for no reason other than I WANTED IT. Your lack of respect and baseless confidence at the ease of which I shall be dispatched is going to lead directly to your downfall. I will BEAT respect into you in Rio, or at least I shall try. Quite honestly your level of delusion and lack of intellect is likely to mean that no matter what the result, no matter that I will be facing you head on and directly in your sight, your perception is still likely to be that I will attack you from the shadows and that you are the moral victor. Your apparent love of violence is nothing new to me; your cretinous application of it serves only to further the opinion that you are a Neanderthal, unable to grasp the concept of paying your dues and risk and reward. However, my love of violence is as delightful in its application as it is intelligent. I have taken apart the best there is and I have done it methodically and logically, without conscience or care. You, I’m afraid, are far from the best there is in this business, despite your grandstanding. Your threats to ‘take over’ my company have been numerous, but aside from hanging on to the coat tails of the former Global Champion in a losing effort, your group has barely registered as significant. You are a fraud, a child, a lost cause. I am a master of technique, a master of speed and a sultan of ring craft. Far from being out of shape because of my corporate responsibilities, I am well rested, fully healed and majestically formed. I am primed for this fight and I have been preparing for it for some time. I am not scared of you and your stupid threats, I do not fear those who are technically, morally and intellectually inferior to me. I do not enter this match with apprehension but supreme confidence. In the words of your tortured, clichéd brain I do not deliver threats to you, but promises. I will fucking end you, you ungrateful, bitter, deluded little worm. You have invoked my anger and this alone should be reason enough for you to back down. I will aim my left foot at your head and I will come as close to removing it from your shoulders as you will ever wish to experience. I will grind your smarmy, arrogant face into the canvass and I will twist and contort your body. I will experience nothing but pleasure and adrenaline as I do this. When the match is over and you are a broken, bleeding, decaying, formless pulp in the centre of the ring I will feel no remorse because you brought this ENTIRELY ON YOURSELF. Everything I am about to do to you is your fault and nobody elses. I will sign your contract as I stand over you and THAT IS FACT. So do your worst, you mouthy little fuck – it is nothing compared to my best, and that is what your ignorance has earned. Rio? It may as well be hell for you. See you there.’ |
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3:40 AM Jul 11