Post by payasoloco on Nov 19, 2017 17:01:07 GMT -6
The scene opens on the outset of a church. As various people walk by, the camera follows the flow of traffic. As we pan up the steps of the church, a familiar masked face is viewed.
{There was a time when believers tried to indoctrinate me with the message of their god. Tried to tell me stories of miracles and of faith. Of people who overcame, despite their fallen angel taking everything from them. Of men who died and were reborn under the name of some holy, omnipotent being.
I don't believe in the god of the christian faith. But there are some stories in their storybook that intrigue me.}
Loco looks up to the church, shaking his head. He takes a breath, gathering his thoughts.
{There was a man named Samson. His parents had been given instructions not to cut his hair; as a sign of loyalty to their god.
As Samson grew, so too did his hair. And he grew mighty in strength. His power was unmatched on earth, and the powerful grew fearful and jealous. They approached the source of Samson's only weakness- a woman who held his affections. After much persuasion, Delilah would pry from Samson the secret of his strength, and aided his enemies in reducing him to naught by shaving his head.
A long time later, Samson's hair would regrow. Though being blinded, he prayed to his god for one last bid of strength and collapsed a coliseum; killing hundreds of his enemies along with himself.}
Payaso takes a moment, scratching his chin. He looks up to the church, a nod; then back to the camera.
{I'm no strongman. And there are no romantic interests in my life.
But I stand before you today, a man who has fallen. A man who has been tossed to the wayside, a victim of his own arrogance.
Much like Samson, I have been taken down by not one enemy, but by a collective. But I have another opportunity to bring down the armies that stand against me. And indeed, they are armies.
For what did it take at Killing Floor to keep me from the prize that is rightfully mine?
Golden Johnson. Bran Butts. Richard "Dick". Allen Walker. And the minimum effort from Jack Schlongson to pick up the scraps. It was one-on-five, and it STILL took every last one of them to finally topple me. To rob me.
Now, I stand the Number One Contender against a man almost three times my size. And yet, I don't back down. A champion who has backup in his corner- yet I keep coming. The odds once again stacked against me, but I refuse to back down.}
Payaso walks away from the church, the camera following him. A few feet up, Loco stops to observe the traffic.
{Harry has himself a little entourage. His three ton brother Elephant Man, and his hype man Barnyard. The interesting thing about the situation at hand is that Hippo has no problem letting his crew do all his talking.
Indeed, Hippo Harry is all but helpless as his BROTHER and his FRIEND do all his real talking for him. Real intimidating, Harold. Except that your inability to speak for yourself is only overshadowed by the rambling gibberish that you pass off as words. One would hope with your large frame, you developed a brain that would function in decent proportion. Unfortunately, it appears you grew in size to make up for your decreased mental development.}
Loco crosses the street, the camera following after. A block later, Payaso stands before a Burger King.
{To Free Willy and Farmboy; I will say this once. Bring your A game. If you have any intention on making yourselves known during this match, you better make it count. The moment either of you are spotted in my arena, you won't need to worry about security- I'll do FAR worse than they ever could.
Hippo, my boy. You were HANDED the title in much the same way I was robbed of it. And while you have the A-Town Crew at your side, I have an insatiable bloodthirst and raw talent on mine. I went toe-to-toe with a former World Champion and EARNED a draw. You... Won a title when outside help arrived to screw the former TV champ. I scratched, clawed, and fought my way through the ranks, while you... Just kind of slid into position thanks to your buddies.
There IS no comparison here, Hippo. You're nothing more than a muscle-bound hack whose hype stands on the shoulders of those you surround yourself with. I am an innovator and a prince of chaos who succeeds or fails on his own merits. If you win, you will always question if you'd have been able to keep that title on your own. When I win, there will be no question as to who the real champion is.}
Loco takes a few more steps, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He straddles a Spyder RT, looking up.
{See you at Overload, pretender.}
Loco starts the motorcycle, driving off. The camera falls on the smoke, fading to static...