Post by markwilder on Aug 8, 2006 15:55:37 GMT -5
[It's several hours after Trial by Fire and the arena has been empty for quite some time save for the activity of a few workers who are currently cleaning up after the event. However, up in the empty seats, one spectator is still there, thinking about what he had seen. Yes, the pay-per-view is over, the various “stars” of the HWF gone...some celebrating their victories, others gone to cry and bitch about their losses....but for Mark Wilder, Trial-By-Fire was his chance to check out the competition. Before and during the event, Mark managed to get back stage. Because he was wearing a basic HWF black t-shirt, most of the HWF stars backstage didn't give him a second look, dismissing him as a some backstage worker or a member of the ring crew which really didn't bother him. After all, being “invisible” was the best way to observe his potential targets. However, he did talk to one of the stars and a possible agreement was reached...and now, a few hours later, Mark had made his decision. Yes, he would honor the agreement and the target's life would become a living hell...Mark smiles at that last thought and the irony of what the concept of hell meant to his target. But the time to think about that would come later after Lockdown. He closes his eyes for a moment as he thinks about the last couple weeks and how he ended up here. It's ironic in a way, because Hudson had approached him several months ago, but Mark turned the offer down because he was involved with XWC. Then...everything fell apart...backstage politics, hostile takeovers, and defections by a bunch of scabs who decided to go crawling back to their master when Jonathyn Brown reopened the XWF. It was made even worse when the XWC president, Aiden Collins himself, sold out and wasted no time sucking Brown's boots by closing down the XWC. He opens his eyes and looks at the camera, a cold and calculating gleam in his eyes as he speaks.]
“You know, it's funny how fate works. Personally, I don't put much stock into that kind of shit, but still...it's just weird how things turn out in the end. A few months ago, Hudson approached me, asked me if I'd be interested in signing on with his company. I turned him down, mostly because I promised a friend that I would help him out with his company instead and I made the mistake of actually believing loyalty counted to these people. Hudson said he understood, but he left me his card and that was the last I heard of him. And to be honest, I watched the occasional OTB and then later HWF shows, even attended a couple of them. To be honest, I did feel a little regret about turning down Hudson's initial offer, but I already had a contract with another company and I intended to honor it. Then a couple weeks ago, shit happened....now I'm not going to bore all of you with the details, bottom line is that it was a fucking soap opera with all the political and backstage dealings that make most of us in this industry want to throw up. But again...I decided to stick with the contract and finish my initial three months. I then talked to the president of the company and he assured me that what a few of us suspected wasn't true. And then, last week, he showed his true colors, fucked us all over, closed the company down, and re-joined the rest of his fellow scabs over in the XWF.”
[He grins at the camera, but the smile does not make it to his eyes which are still cold and calculating as he nods his head.]
“So yeah...needless to say, I was more than a little pissed off when I called up Hudson and asked him about his offer. So he gives me a couple passes to Trial By Fire after I sign a contract and then informs me that I have a match this coming Lockdown. And to be honest, I'm fine with that, I've got some anger to burn off and I particularly don't care who gets thrown in my path, which brings me to my opponent...the beautiful, but deadly, and overly spoiled brat of the HWF, Summer McCoy.”
[He gets up out of his seat and glances down at the workers disassembling the ring down below before returning his attention to the camera.]
“What can be said about Summer McCoy? I suppose I could take the chauvinistic/sexist route and make comments about how I'm going to beat the hell out of some overhyped whore, but I won't. Besides, all that's going to to accomplish is just piss her off a little more and see how many more times she can say the word 'bitch' in her promo. Of course, let's not forget how her promos usually go....first off it starts with the camera panning around her home or whatever location in an attempt to lengthen the promo. After we get a look at the setting of Summer's little staged production, she then graces us with her presence, usually starting it off with a temper tantrum, destroying furniture, or venting on her friend Chelsea before ultimately deciding that a shopping spree will soothe her. Oh...and then she tries to see how many times she can swear and call her opponent 'bitch'.”
[He pretends to stifle a yawn and then shakes his head in disappointment.]
“Pretty fucking predictable, don't ya think? Oh...relax Summer, I'm not going say how pathetic you are in the ring. To be honest, I like you better in the ring than out of it. I also know that to hold the title for so long, you must have some skill to be able to pull that off...both in the ring and out. How you take that last comment is entirely up to you, but it's obvious to anyone you're used to the kneeling position anyway.”
[He snickers at that last comment, knowing full well Summer will probably come back with an angry tantrum, profanity, and a resolution to do more shopping and maybe go to another party.]
“But seriously, Summer, I really don't care about you either way. For one thing, I prefer my women to be less 'used' not passed around the locker rooms and board rooms of various companies. Next up, your title...don't worry, I don't want it...and even if I did take it from you, I'd probably have to have sterilized. The only thing that matters to me is that your the one who signed their name to the dotted line and I don't care who it is right now. Like I said before, I got a lot of anger to burn right now, and beating the shit out of a loud and whiny spoiled bitch whose only skills are pitching tantrums, partying, shopping, and shooting off her mouth for the sake of cutting over long promos sounds like the kind therapy I could use right now.”
“So you go ahead, cut your little production number, I'm kind of curious as to what you're going to say, but you've been fairly quiet since this match was signed. Who knows, maybe you think I'm all talk and that I'm just some newby you and some of the other losers on the roster can simply walk over. Go ahead...think that...you aren't the first to make that mistake and you sure as hell won't be the last. But just so you know, this isn't personal...sure I'll pull out all the stops and do whatever it takes to win, but at least I'm not trying to destroy you. However, make it personal, and believe me, no amount of incoherent rambling, temper tantrums, shopping sprees, or favors of ANY kind will prevent me from shattering your little dreamworld and leaving you broken and bloody for the others to finish off.”
[He starts to head up the steps, but stops and snaps his fingers as if he remembers something.]
“Oh...and Summer, just thought you should know that there's going to be a few changes and, for once, you'll actually have to put up a real fight. Right now, I'm just the first of a few new faces that are headed over here. I know it's kind of cliché, but there's a new order forming and there's no place for a whiny little brat like you. And none of you personal favors will protect you from that.”
[He smirks at the camera and winks.]
“See ya around, Summer.”
[He then heads up the steps, leaving the camera which pans back down to the ring that is now disassembled before fading to the HWF logo.]
“You know, it's funny how fate works. Personally, I don't put much stock into that kind of shit, but still...it's just weird how things turn out in the end. A few months ago, Hudson approached me, asked me if I'd be interested in signing on with his company. I turned him down, mostly because I promised a friend that I would help him out with his company instead and I made the mistake of actually believing loyalty counted to these people. Hudson said he understood, but he left me his card and that was the last I heard of him. And to be honest, I watched the occasional OTB and then later HWF shows, even attended a couple of them. To be honest, I did feel a little regret about turning down Hudson's initial offer, but I already had a contract with another company and I intended to honor it. Then a couple weeks ago, shit happened....now I'm not going to bore all of you with the details, bottom line is that it was a fucking soap opera with all the political and backstage dealings that make most of us in this industry want to throw up. But again...I decided to stick with the contract and finish my initial three months. I then talked to the president of the company and he assured me that what a few of us suspected wasn't true. And then, last week, he showed his true colors, fucked us all over, closed the company down, and re-joined the rest of his fellow scabs over in the XWF.”
[He grins at the camera, but the smile does not make it to his eyes which are still cold and calculating as he nods his head.]
“So yeah...needless to say, I was more than a little pissed off when I called up Hudson and asked him about his offer. So he gives me a couple passes to Trial By Fire after I sign a contract and then informs me that I have a match this coming Lockdown. And to be honest, I'm fine with that, I've got some anger to burn off and I particularly don't care who gets thrown in my path, which brings me to my opponent...the beautiful, but deadly, and overly spoiled brat of the HWF, Summer McCoy.”
[He gets up out of his seat and glances down at the workers disassembling the ring down below before returning his attention to the camera.]
“What can be said about Summer McCoy? I suppose I could take the chauvinistic/sexist route and make comments about how I'm going to beat the hell out of some overhyped whore, but I won't. Besides, all that's going to to accomplish is just piss her off a little more and see how many more times she can say the word 'bitch' in her promo. Of course, let's not forget how her promos usually go....first off it starts with the camera panning around her home or whatever location in an attempt to lengthen the promo. After we get a look at the setting of Summer's little staged production, she then graces us with her presence, usually starting it off with a temper tantrum, destroying furniture, or venting on her friend Chelsea before ultimately deciding that a shopping spree will soothe her. Oh...and then she tries to see how many times she can swear and call her opponent 'bitch'.”
[He pretends to stifle a yawn and then shakes his head in disappointment.]
“Pretty fucking predictable, don't ya think? Oh...relax Summer, I'm not going say how pathetic you are in the ring. To be honest, I like you better in the ring than out of it. I also know that to hold the title for so long, you must have some skill to be able to pull that off...both in the ring and out. How you take that last comment is entirely up to you, but it's obvious to anyone you're used to the kneeling position anyway.”
[He snickers at that last comment, knowing full well Summer will probably come back with an angry tantrum, profanity, and a resolution to do more shopping and maybe go to another party.]
“But seriously, Summer, I really don't care about you either way. For one thing, I prefer my women to be less 'used' not passed around the locker rooms and board rooms of various companies. Next up, your title...don't worry, I don't want it...and even if I did take it from you, I'd probably have to have sterilized. The only thing that matters to me is that your the one who signed their name to the dotted line and I don't care who it is right now. Like I said before, I got a lot of anger to burn right now, and beating the shit out of a loud and whiny spoiled bitch whose only skills are pitching tantrums, partying, shopping, and shooting off her mouth for the sake of cutting over long promos sounds like the kind therapy I could use right now.”
“So you go ahead, cut your little production number, I'm kind of curious as to what you're going to say, but you've been fairly quiet since this match was signed. Who knows, maybe you think I'm all talk and that I'm just some newby you and some of the other losers on the roster can simply walk over. Go ahead...think that...you aren't the first to make that mistake and you sure as hell won't be the last. But just so you know, this isn't personal...sure I'll pull out all the stops and do whatever it takes to win, but at least I'm not trying to destroy you. However, make it personal, and believe me, no amount of incoherent rambling, temper tantrums, shopping sprees, or favors of ANY kind will prevent me from shattering your little dreamworld and leaving you broken and bloody for the others to finish off.”
[He starts to head up the steps, but stops and snaps his fingers as if he remembers something.]
“Oh...and Summer, just thought you should know that there's going to be a few changes and, for once, you'll actually have to put up a real fight. Right now, I'm just the first of a few new faces that are headed over here. I know it's kind of cliché, but there's a new order forming and there's no place for a whiny little brat like you. And none of you personal favors will protect you from that.”
[He smirks at the camera and winks.]
“See ya around, Summer.”
[He then heads up the steps, leaving the camera which pans back down to the ring that is now disassembled before fading to the HWF logo.]