#Helluva Climb
Nov 12, 2017 16:48:03 GMT -6
via mobile
Bonnie Blue, Kevin Bishop, and 1 more like this
Post by payasoloco on Nov 12, 2017 16:48:03 GMT -6
Niagra Falls. Midday. People from all over come to see the majestic work of nature and take in its powerful essence. A barrell is seen bobbing in the water, heading for the falls. A voice is heard off-screen, reverent.
{I was robbed of my opportunity at Killing Floor. The current so-called "champion" resorted to cheap tricks and outside aide to bring me down. The best part is; it was someone else with championship aspirations who finally took me down- with a pair of brass knuckles, no less.
Congratulations, Rainbow Bitch. You succesfully... Had everyone else defend your title for you. And after I went and threw the tiniest sliver of respect towards you. Disgraceful.}
The camera pans over to the source of the voice, landing on a masked visitor. He overlooks the scene, breathing in deeply as he contemplates. He looks to the camera, intent.
{This week, I have a proving ground against a former World Champion. A chance to show everyone what it is I am TRULY made of. But for that to happen, I have to work with a self-hyped lesbo who is worse in the ring than she is in the boudoir, and against a second opponent who appears to be a mountain of a man- tho riddled with tragedy.
Karlie, let's call a spade a spade. You likely don't care for me, and I couldn't care less about you if I tried. But despite having to team up with someone less talented than a sock puppet, I'm willing to put personal opinion aside to pull together a victory. Let us hope that you are willing to do the same- I would hate to lose a match because the weak link was being petty.}
Payaso chuckles to himself, turning back to the water. He watches intently as a barrel falls off the water's edge, plummeting to the summit below. Loco grins, continuing.
{Corey Bull. You are a hell of an imposing figure. Almost seven feet tall, near 400 pounds of beast... It's quite intimidating. Or, it WOULD be, have I not spent my career slaying giants and unmasking monsters. Beating the odds against me.
But I admire the many nicknames you've accumulated. What were they all again?}
Payaso scratches his head, pondering. A figurative lightbulb goes off; Loco raises a finger to the sky and reaches behind him. He pulls out a slip of paper, opening it to reveal a cheatsheet. He looks up, reading them off one by one.
{The Hatebringer. Oh, so... You're one of those broody guys who just likes to bring everyone down. Okay, well... Good try.
The Monster. So generic. I mean, so it gets a point across. But... I mean, are you a scary monster or Harry Munster? C'mon.
The Angel of Hate. Okay, this one's a little more creative. There's the harbinger of great standing, spreading the word and feeling of... Hate? Wait a second... You got help with this one, didn't you. It's just a prettier way of saying "Hatebringer". You're a sneaky one. Good job.
Hell's Bastard Son. That... Okay. So... You're Satan's kid. But the man behind the curtain didn't want you... Probably failed to live up to the family legacy. And when the Devil is disappointed enough to deny you, to boot you from your home, CLEARLY you're not much worth the hype.}
Loco shrugs, a grin.
{So, let me get this straight.
You're born the beastial heir to the throne of Hell. You epic failed so hard, your dad disowned you and kicked your ass out.
And now, you take the anger from daddy's rejection and try to channel it into wrestling.
Well, you'll have to catch me first. And also find the brain cells to remember what to do once you do. Head back to middle school, Bull.}
Payaso chuckles, shaking his head. He looks out to the falls again, taking in a calming breath. He turns back, solemn.
Kevin Bishop. What is there truly to say to a former World Champion?
I suppose I say that you are a FORMER champion; and therefore amount simply to another competitor. Perhaps point out who he lost his title to. Maybe mention that I have a recorded draw against our CURRENT World Champion, which is a slight notch higher than how you fared against him at Killing Floor. Offer the suggestion that, in large part BECAUSE of your loss at Killing Floor, I don't quite see you in the same condition as when you held the title. Or perhaps that you never were; that your title reigns were simply dumb luck.
What I WILL say, Kevin, is that this is the kind of match that will make people pay attention. Not because "former World Champ" Kevin Bishop is in the match. Not because of the inferred squash match you and Corey have against a tiny luchador and his donated baggage. This match will be the show stealer as El Payaso Loco drags a Lumberjack Barbie doll to a victory against a beast and a has-been.}
Loco chuckles, shaking his head as he turns back the the landmark. He motions over the view, optimistic.
{Like the mighty falls of the Niagra, so do Corey and Bishop believe that size means everything. But through preparation, hard work and sheer lack of a damn to give...}
The camera pans past Loco and down, down into the falls... Where a barrel is opened to reveal its passenger safe and sound.
{... They CAN be conquered. And dios mio, they WILL. BE. CONQUERED.
See you at Overload, fellas.}
Payaso walks away, the camera staying on the waterfall. The scene stays for a few moments before we fade... To... Static.