Post by Ethan King on May 26, 2018 18:24:23 GMT
The video package opens on a large set of double doors, with the camera approaching them as though bring held right from the face of someone heading towards a meeting. As the camera reaches the doors, one of them cracks open, allowing us to see a peek inside. Behind the doors is a large board room, filled with plants and a large table surrounded by sleek leather desk chairs. Three of the room's walls are entirely dominated by large picture windows, indicating that this room is at the top of a skyscraper and designed to give those within a commanding view of the bustling metropolis below. Sitting at the head of the table on the far side of the room, in a chair large enough to be a throne, is Ethan King, seeming to go over some paperwork. He glances up at the camera, beaming broadly and gesturing to the seat to his immediate left.
"Ah! Come in, come in! Please, by all means, sit down and lets get started. I'm eager to get to work."
The camera moves quickly through the board room, glancing out the window to enjoy the view of a sparkling river on the edge of the metro area that snakes around the city. At its edge is a large, strange looking building whose walls appear to be made of a shining bluish-purple metal, with faint images of people etched onto the edifice that are only just visible from this distance. The camera lingers only for a moment before taking a seat.
"Hell of a view, isn't it? A very old, very dear friend suggested the city back when we were working together abroad, and when I was looking to set up a new business office I couldn't help but move into the area. But enough about that. Why don't we just dive in, hm? My last cameraman ended up being something of a disappointment, but I'm sure you'll do much better, won't you? So. All you have to do is sit there, film me, and do whatever I tell you to do. Sound easy enough?"
The camera nods.
"Perfect. Then let's go ahead and begin."
Ethan adjusts his tie, leans back in his chair, lattices his fingers together... and gives an exceedingly charming, but undeniably dangerous smile.
"Hello, IWF," he says with a slight hint of a sneer. "It's about time you and I had the opportunity to sit down and have something of a chat."
He chuckles as he spins his thumbs. "I'm sure you've all heard and seen plenty about me. I don't have that many friends in this company, and I understand that given some historical precedence I haven't done much to improve my image by signing on with Laura Howlett. I'm sure plenty of people would paint me as something of an 'evil incarnate', the sort of individual who so craves attention and power that I'm willing to go to whatever unscrupulous lengths to attain my own personal needs."
He shrugs. "I'm not going to lie and say that it's entirely off base. A man such as myself has a reputation, and reputations are earned to some degree or another. While some of it may be wildly blown out of proportion, I'm not going to deny that I'm every bit the ruthless opportunist that men like Spike Kane would paint me as. When I see something I want, there's next to nothing that can get between me and that goal, by whatever means I deem fit for the task at hand. But let me make one thing expressly clear."
He leans forward in his seat. "Just as in the business world, I recognize that I have a purpose within the IWF. It's not just about me - it's about the rest of you as well. In the world of business, I am a provider. A builder. I provide jobs to millions of people around the united states, giving them financial security, health care, and a competitive working environment where effort is recognized and loyalty rewarded. In the IWF? I'm an entertainer. And I strive to hold myself to the same standard of excellence in that as I do in the cutthroat corporate environment in which I was born and bred. So while, yes, I stride forward in a path of progress and conquest, it's not all bad for those who share my world. I help people find the destinies that they've been searching for. I can give people purpose. I may have destroyed some careers, its true, but I've also been responsible for inspiring some of the greatest in the world."
Ethan spreads his arms wide. "I invite you all to be a part of my vision. The vision that has already inspired some in the IWF to walk alongside me in my journey to elevate the IWF to an even greater standard of excellence in entertainment. Let my success be the success of the entire company, and the success and joy of everyone who tunes in to watch us deliver our services right into your homes."
"Ladies and Gentlemen... The King has arrived."
When Laura Howlett came through the door, Ethan was sparring against a man half again his size in the training center, a massive bruiser built like a vending machine. 7 and a half feet, 360 pounds of muscle and sinew, who looked like he turned bricks into dust with his fists for a living. When he moved, the ring shook.
He was also limping, and drenched with sweat. Ethan looked fresh, and was grinning like a hungry shark. Laura raised an eyebrow as he watched the two continue working together, pleased with the apparent talent of her newest acquisition.
A woman approached her with a small smile and an odd sparkle in her eye. She had a hardened look about her, her blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, wearing a fitting leather jacket with aviator glasses resting on her brow. Laura recognized the woman as Gwen Price-King, Ethan's wife. Gwen didn't say anything to Laura, and Laura didn't say anything to her - the ex-military woman simply gesturing for Laura to join her at ringside.
Laura walked to the ring, hopping up onto the apron near the corner to get a better look at the action. "You know, I could have arranged for an actual bear for you to spar against if you wanted something like this."
Ethan smirked as he brought the titan down with a Russian legsweep. "I'm glad you could join us, Ms. Howlett," he replied simply. "I wanted to have a brief discussion with you about the future of our joint venture."
Laura nodded. "Of course. Anything for members of The House."
Gwen smirked at her, but Laura tried to ignore it. Ethan, however, laughed.
"That's a part of your reputation, Laura, a reputation that precedes you even outside of the IWF," he noted as he dropped a knee on the back of the titan's calf, causing the huge man to grunt in pain as Ethan savagely targeted the man's hamstring. "Even living all the way in Japan, we heard about the House of Howlett. My old partner liked looking at the news about the IWF, and would talk about it between matches. You have a reputation for doing some fairly crazy things for those you see as a part of your toolbox."
Laura's lip twitched. "The House of Howlett is more than just a-"
"Don't try to sell me the idea that it's a real family to you, Laura. We both know that it's a business venture for you, probably a way to settle grudges between yourself and the rest of the IWF's board of directors. There's no need for concealing it - I'm aware of what the House is, and I joined it anyway given the opportunities for mutual benefit. In order to maintain mutual benefit, however, mutual honesty is also required."
Laura's lips hardened into a line. "Very well. What was it then that you wanted to discuss?"
The Titan, who had lumbered to his feet, charged towards Ethan, but Ethan moved under and easily avoided the charge, tripping up the man's sore legs to pull him into a decapitator, the man's 360 pounds of bulk turning against him as he fell throat-first onto the top rope. Ethan shook his head, disappointed, as he watched the man clutch his trachea and struggle to breathe. "Your reputation, Laura. You see, I make a point of thoroughly investigating anyone with whom I am considering engaging in a business venture with... and I found something that needed clearing up. Apparently you have something of a history of not just doing terrible things to other people on behalf of your clients... but also using certain other assets to asset dominance and ensure loyalty within them."
Gwen's eyes narrowed slightly, the woman glaring at Laura with a singular ferocity. Ethan continued before Laura could respond, looking her directly in the eyes as he knelt on the titan's back, driving a knee into his spine as he pulled on his damaged throat even as his victim started coughing up flecks of blood.
"I understand that it's something you've done in the past. I'm not going to judge you for it. However, I wanted to make it very clear that I am NOT an easy pupped like your past, failed experiments. I'm no desperate for love whelp like Ryan Shane. I'm not a constantly-needing-victories-handed-to-him-on-a-plate coward like Noah Field. I'm happy to help you make the House of Howlett something to be pants-shittingly terrified of again, but if you even think of trying to do to me what you did to them?"
The titan was desperately tapping out now, but Ethan simply tightened the choke as his victim's face slowly turned purple.
"I've done terrible things to good and bad people alike, Laura. Men and Women alike. If you so much as think of getting between me and my wife? If you're foolish enough to make that deadly error? You'll go to sleep one night, and wake up in the middle of an underground ring, and I will feed you to my wife like a slab of sirloin to a starving wolf. Are we clear?"
Laura couldn't help but watch as the titan's bloodshot eyes bulged out before he passed into unconsciousness. Ethan and Gwen continued their unblinking stares into her as she glanced around her.
"... Crystal."
With that word, the dangerous mood in the room broke like a sudden daybreak, and Ethan and Gwen were all smiles. "Excellent! Well I'm so glad that we were able to clear that up. You understand how these little meetings are necessary for business, Laura."
Gwen rested a smiling hand on Laura's shoulder, intensity replaced by a jarring hospitable warmth. "We really appreciate you taking the time to fly out here. Would you care to stay in town for a bit? Our house is in Boston, but Ethan has a few of the best suites reserved at the Hotel Ivy. We always reserve the presidential suite there when we're in town for business, and Ethan has three tickets at the Guthrie tonight if you'd care to join us. Afterwords I hope you'll join us for dinner?"
"All our treat, of course," Ethan noted. "We want to make your stay as comfortable as possible. A little vacation before we go back to Vegas? I know all the best eateries in town, and it really is a lovely place to stay. After all, now that we understand one another, I want this partnership to be as successful and satisfying as possible... for everyone involved."
He chuckles and rises to his feet, walking over to the window. "This week I get to stretch my legs and hit the ground running, debuting within the company in a match for the Extreme Championship. A lot of you might be thinking that a suit-wearing blueblood like myself would be at a disadvantage in such an environment. Allow me to correct you with a history lesson."
He gestures to the city below. "Great men are forged in fire. The city below is no exception - this city wouldn't exist were it not for the actions of a few bold men who fought tooth and nail to accomplish what they knew would be a great legacy. Be it the actions of Zebulon Pike, a military man who arranged for these lands to be brought into the territory of the United States. Be it the bootlegger Pierre Parrant who snubbed his nose at the local forts and established a tavern built from his illegal whiskey trade, whose legacy of booze-running inspires beer brands and bars around the area to this very day. Cities, empires and legacies are built on the backs of those who are ready and willing to fight for what they have... and I am no different. Did I use my wealth and privilege to ensure that my training was soft and protected, keeping my face pretty so I'd look good on camera? No. No, I made my name in deathmatches in Japan, building myself up from fighting in the equivalent of run down pool halls to the greatest stages in the country. Be it on my own or with a trusted partner, I'd never shy away from even the craziest stipulations they'd imagine. Fight in a ring entirely covered in shattered glass? Done. Fight in a match where the ropes are covered with electrified barbed wire? No problem. A match where all the competitors fists are wrapped in cloth, dipped in pitch and set on fire?" Ethan grins and laughs.
"My partner and I won 15 consecutive Blazing Fists of the Oni matches - a record that to this day has never been challenged."
Her shrugs. "So this? I'm not afraid of this. I'm not afraid of this... broken little man who the company forgot, dredged up from some hole to be a pitbull for some group of anarchist zealots. He may love to go on about how he's going to eat the rich... but he doesn't have what it takes to hunt down society's Apex Predator."
He cracks his neck. "And so, the elephant in the room. Caleb Lockwood. The homeless wonderboy."
Ethan shakes his head with a smirk. "There's something ironic about this match, isn't there? Might as well call this match "class warfare". It's a one-man peasant revolt railing against a man who earned his way to the top of the world. I know your type, Caleb. I donate thousands in charity to people like you every month. King International invests in shelters for people like you so you can get affordable food and housing. I have programs for people like you within my business, where we help newly-hired struggling individuals such as yourself find their footing, and take the opportunities we give them far enough that they truly can pull themselves up by their bootstraps and join the rest of us in a productive society."
He sighs, folding his arms. "And yet there's you, who thinks I'm just an unforgivably bad man because I'm wealthier than you are. People like you are the problem infecting the downtrodden of this country. People like you are what is holding the rest of your ilk down, by teaching them that it's more righteous to whine about their problems then it is to take life by the horns and force your situation to change FOR you. You teach the poor, unfortunate souls who have fallen into the gutter that they deserve to be rescued, that they deserve for people to do all the work for them, that they're not to blame for their circumstances. And you call me the bad guy?"
Ethan clucks his tongue as he scoffs.
"Please. You're nothing more than another unwashed revolutionary trying to tell the masses you're one of them, while taking in tens of thousands of dollars in paychecks from Cable Arcane's desk. Oh, but I'm sure you donate it all to charity, right? Please, Caleb. We both know the tax benefits that brings in."
Ethan sits back down at the board room table, leaning in towards the camera.
"And yet, despite it all, Caleb? I'm still going to do my best to be the better man. While you offer only threats, I'm going to offer you a hand. I'm going to help you attain your destiny and finally meet your purpose. I'm going to give you what your whole career has been building up to, and give you the chance to live the rest of your life satisfied with the knowledge that you did everything you were supposed to."
Ethan's face curls into a smug smile.
"Because everything you've ever done, Caleb. From your debut to this moment. Every win. Every loss. Every feud you've won, every superstar you've beaten down. Every title, every victory, every move that made the audience gasp with amazement. Every time you've looked the odds in the face and beaten them down, every time you've risen up and overcome those who have tried to suppress you. From when the IWF forgot you, to when The Pack brought you surging back... it's all been to build you up as a worthy man...
... so that you could help the IWF see what I'm capable of when I beat you down and crush you under my heel."
His grin twitches upwards, contorting what was a simple smug grin into something almost infernal and psychotic. "You exist to make my meteoric entrance to the IWF something to remember. You'll go down in fame. Immortal, Caleb... as everyone will always remember your name when they remember mine. You'll be linked to me, forever, and it's the greatest gift I could ever give anyone - whether in this business or another."
He spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. "You'll be remembered as the man who fell to prove that Ethan King means business. And once you've at last achieved your destiny? I expect you to disappear back into the gutter where you belong"
He laughs. "But let it never be said I'm not a merciful man. If you learn your place and decide to try to work for your future, King International will be more than happy to help you find a place as part of our family. I am, after all, always grateful to those who embrace their purpose by helping me build my Empire. It's like I said, something all of those listening should remember..."
His smile fades, his expression turning dangerously serious. "Effort is recognized... and loyalty is rewarded."
"Ah! Come in, come in! Please, by all means, sit down and lets get started. I'm eager to get to work."
The camera moves quickly through the board room, glancing out the window to enjoy the view of a sparkling river on the edge of the metro area that snakes around the city. At its edge is a large, strange looking building whose walls appear to be made of a shining bluish-purple metal, with faint images of people etched onto the edifice that are only just visible from this distance. The camera lingers only for a moment before taking a seat.
"Hell of a view, isn't it? A very old, very dear friend suggested the city back when we were working together abroad, and when I was looking to set up a new business office I couldn't help but move into the area. But enough about that. Why don't we just dive in, hm? My last cameraman ended up being something of a disappointment, but I'm sure you'll do much better, won't you? So. All you have to do is sit there, film me, and do whatever I tell you to do. Sound easy enough?"
The camera nods.
"Perfect. Then let's go ahead and begin."
Ethan adjusts his tie, leans back in his chair, lattices his fingers together... and gives an exceedingly charming, but undeniably dangerous smile.
"Hello, IWF," he says with a slight hint of a sneer. "It's about time you and I had the opportunity to sit down and have something of a chat."
He chuckles as he spins his thumbs. "I'm sure you've all heard and seen plenty about me. I don't have that many friends in this company, and I understand that given some historical precedence I haven't done much to improve my image by signing on with Laura Howlett. I'm sure plenty of people would paint me as something of an 'evil incarnate', the sort of individual who so craves attention and power that I'm willing to go to whatever unscrupulous lengths to attain my own personal needs."
He shrugs. "I'm not going to lie and say that it's entirely off base. A man such as myself has a reputation, and reputations are earned to some degree or another. While some of it may be wildly blown out of proportion, I'm not going to deny that I'm every bit the ruthless opportunist that men like Spike Kane would paint me as. When I see something I want, there's next to nothing that can get between me and that goal, by whatever means I deem fit for the task at hand. But let me make one thing expressly clear."
He leans forward in his seat. "Just as in the business world, I recognize that I have a purpose within the IWF. It's not just about me - it's about the rest of you as well. In the world of business, I am a provider. A builder. I provide jobs to millions of people around the united states, giving them financial security, health care, and a competitive working environment where effort is recognized and loyalty rewarded. In the IWF? I'm an entertainer. And I strive to hold myself to the same standard of excellence in that as I do in the cutthroat corporate environment in which I was born and bred. So while, yes, I stride forward in a path of progress and conquest, it's not all bad for those who share my world. I help people find the destinies that they've been searching for. I can give people purpose. I may have destroyed some careers, its true, but I've also been responsible for inspiring some of the greatest in the world."
Ethan spreads his arms wide. "I invite you all to be a part of my vision. The vision that has already inspired some in the IWF to walk alongside me in my journey to elevate the IWF to an even greater standard of excellence in entertainment. Let my success be the success of the entire company, and the success and joy of everyone who tunes in to watch us deliver our services right into your homes."
"Ladies and Gentlemen... The King has arrived."
When Laura Howlett came through the door, Ethan was sparring against a man half again his size in the training center, a massive bruiser built like a vending machine. 7 and a half feet, 360 pounds of muscle and sinew, who looked like he turned bricks into dust with his fists for a living. When he moved, the ring shook.
He was also limping, and drenched with sweat. Ethan looked fresh, and was grinning like a hungry shark. Laura raised an eyebrow as he watched the two continue working together, pleased with the apparent talent of her newest acquisition.
A woman approached her with a small smile and an odd sparkle in her eye. She had a hardened look about her, her blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, wearing a fitting leather jacket with aviator glasses resting on her brow. Laura recognized the woman as Gwen Price-King, Ethan's wife. Gwen didn't say anything to Laura, and Laura didn't say anything to her - the ex-military woman simply gesturing for Laura to join her at ringside.
Laura walked to the ring, hopping up onto the apron near the corner to get a better look at the action. "You know, I could have arranged for an actual bear for you to spar against if you wanted something like this."
Ethan smirked as he brought the titan down with a Russian legsweep. "I'm glad you could join us, Ms. Howlett," he replied simply. "I wanted to have a brief discussion with you about the future of our joint venture."
Laura nodded. "Of course. Anything for members of The House."
Gwen smirked at her, but Laura tried to ignore it. Ethan, however, laughed.
"That's a part of your reputation, Laura, a reputation that precedes you even outside of the IWF," he noted as he dropped a knee on the back of the titan's calf, causing the huge man to grunt in pain as Ethan savagely targeted the man's hamstring. "Even living all the way in Japan, we heard about the House of Howlett. My old partner liked looking at the news about the IWF, and would talk about it between matches. You have a reputation for doing some fairly crazy things for those you see as a part of your toolbox."
Laura's lip twitched. "The House of Howlett is more than just a-"
"Don't try to sell me the idea that it's a real family to you, Laura. We both know that it's a business venture for you, probably a way to settle grudges between yourself and the rest of the IWF's board of directors. There's no need for concealing it - I'm aware of what the House is, and I joined it anyway given the opportunities for mutual benefit. In order to maintain mutual benefit, however, mutual honesty is also required."
Laura's lips hardened into a line. "Very well. What was it then that you wanted to discuss?"
The Titan, who had lumbered to his feet, charged towards Ethan, but Ethan moved under and easily avoided the charge, tripping up the man's sore legs to pull him into a decapitator, the man's 360 pounds of bulk turning against him as he fell throat-first onto the top rope. Ethan shook his head, disappointed, as he watched the man clutch his trachea and struggle to breathe. "Your reputation, Laura. You see, I make a point of thoroughly investigating anyone with whom I am considering engaging in a business venture with... and I found something that needed clearing up. Apparently you have something of a history of not just doing terrible things to other people on behalf of your clients... but also using certain other assets to asset dominance and ensure loyalty within them."
Gwen's eyes narrowed slightly, the woman glaring at Laura with a singular ferocity. Ethan continued before Laura could respond, looking her directly in the eyes as he knelt on the titan's back, driving a knee into his spine as he pulled on his damaged throat even as his victim started coughing up flecks of blood.
"I understand that it's something you've done in the past. I'm not going to judge you for it. However, I wanted to make it very clear that I am NOT an easy pupped like your past, failed experiments. I'm no desperate for love whelp like Ryan Shane. I'm not a constantly-needing-victories-handed-to-him-on-a-plate coward like Noah Field. I'm happy to help you make the House of Howlett something to be pants-shittingly terrified of again, but if you even think of trying to do to me what you did to them?"
The titan was desperately tapping out now, but Ethan simply tightened the choke as his victim's face slowly turned purple.
"I've done terrible things to good and bad people alike, Laura. Men and Women alike. If you so much as think of getting between me and my wife? If you're foolish enough to make that deadly error? You'll go to sleep one night, and wake up in the middle of an underground ring, and I will feed you to my wife like a slab of sirloin to a starving wolf. Are we clear?"
Laura couldn't help but watch as the titan's bloodshot eyes bulged out before he passed into unconsciousness. Ethan and Gwen continued their unblinking stares into her as she glanced around her.
"... Crystal."
With that word, the dangerous mood in the room broke like a sudden daybreak, and Ethan and Gwen were all smiles. "Excellent! Well I'm so glad that we were able to clear that up. You understand how these little meetings are necessary for business, Laura."
Gwen rested a smiling hand on Laura's shoulder, intensity replaced by a jarring hospitable warmth. "We really appreciate you taking the time to fly out here. Would you care to stay in town for a bit? Our house is in Boston, but Ethan has a few of the best suites reserved at the Hotel Ivy. We always reserve the presidential suite there when we're in town for business, and Ethan has three tickets at the Guthrie tonight if you'd care to join us. Afterwords I hope you'll join us for dinner?"
"All our treat, of course," Ethan noted. "We want to make your stay as comfortable as possible. A little vacation before we go back to Vegas? I know all the best eateries in town, and it really is a lovely place to stay. After all, now that we understand one another, I want this partnership to be as successful and satisfying as possible... for everyone involved."
He chuckles and rises to his feet, walking over to the window. "This week I get to stretch my legs and hit the ground running, debuting within the company in a match for the Extreme Championship. A lot of you might be thinking that a suit-wearing blueblood like myself would be at a disadvantage in such an environment. Allow me to correct you with a history lesson."
He gestures to the city below. "Great men are forged in fire. The city below is no exception - this city wouldn't exist were it not for the actions of a few bold men who fought tooth and nail to accomplish what they knew would be a great legacy. Be it the actions of Zebulon Pike, a military man who arranged for these lands to be brought into the territory of the United States. Be it the bootlegger Pierre Parrant who snubbed his nose at the local forts and established a tavern built from his illegal whiskey trade, whose legacy of booze-running inspires beer brands and bars around the area to this very day. Cities, empires and legacies are built on the backs of those who are ready and willing to fight for what they have... and I am no different. Did I use my wealth and privilege to ensure that my training was soft and protected, keeping my face pretty so I'd look good on camera? No. No, I made my name in deathmatches in Japan, building myself up from fighting in the equivalent of run down pool halls to the greatest stages in the country. Be it on my own or with a trusted partner, I'd never shy away from even the craziest stipulations they'd imagine. Fight in a ring entirely covered in shattered glass? Done. Fight in a match where the ropes are covered with electrified barbed wire? No problem. A match where all the competitors fists are wrapped in cloth, dipped in pitch and set on fire?" Ethan grins and laughs.
"My partner and I won 15 consecutive Blazing Fists of the Oni matches - a record that to this day has never been challenged."
Her shrugs. "So this? I'm not afraid of this. I'm not afraid of this... broken little man who the company forgot, dredged up from some hole to be a pitbull for some group of anarchist zealots. He may love to go on about how he's going to eat the rich... but he doesn't have what it takes to hunt down society's Apex Predator."
He cracks his neck. "And so, the elephant in the room. Caleb Lockwood. The homeless wonderboy."
Ethan shakes his head with a smirk. "There's something ironic about this match, isn't there? Might as well call this match "class warfare". It's a one-man peasant revolt railing against a man who earned his way to the top of the world. I know your type, Caleb. I donate thousands in charity to people like you every month. King International invests in shelters for people like you so you can get affordable food and housing. I have programs for people like you within my business, where we help newly-hired struggling individuals such as yourself find their footing, and take the opportunities we give them far enough that they truly can pull themselves up by their bootstraps and join the rest of us in a productive society."
He sighs, folding his arms. "And yet there's you, who thinks I'm just an unforgivably bad man because I'm wealthier than you are. People like you are the problem infecting the downtrodden of this country. People like you are what is holding the rest of your ilk down, by teaching them that it's more righteous to whine about their problems then it is to take life by the horns and force your situation to change FOR you. You teach the poor, unfortunate souls who have fallen into the gutter that they deserve to be rescued, that they deserve for people to do all the work for them, that they're not to blame for their circumstances. And you call me the bad guy?"
Ethan clucks his tongue as he scoffs.
"Please. You're nothing more than another unwashed revolutionary trying to tell the masses you're one of them, while taking in tens of thousands of dollars in paychecks from Cable Arcane's desk. Oh, but I'm sure you donate it all to charity, right? Please, Caleb. We both know the tax benefits that brings in."
Ethan sits back down at the board room table, leaning in towards the camera.
"And yet, despite it all, Caleb? I'm still going to do my best to be the better man. While you offer only threats, I'm going to offer you a hand. I'm going to help you attain your destiny and finally meet your purpose. I'm going to give you what your whole career has been building up to, and give you the chance to live the rest of your life satisfied with the knowledge that you did everything you were supposed to."
Ethan's face curls into a smug smile.
"Because everything you've ever done, Caleb. From your debut to this moment. Every win. Every loss. Every feud you've won, every superstar you've beaten down. Every title, every victory, every move that made the audience gasp with amazement. Every time you've looked the odds in the face and beaten them down, every time you've risen up and overcome those who have tried to suppress you. From when the IWF forgot you, to when The Pack brought you surging back... it's all been to build you up as a worthy man...
... so that you could help the IWF see what I'm capable of when I beat you down and crush you under my heel."
His grin twitches upwards, contorting what was a simple smug grin into something almost infernal and psychotic. "You exist to make my meteoric entrance to the IWF something to remember. You'll go down in fame. Immortal, Caleb... as everyone will always remember your name when they remember mine. You'll be linked to me, forever, and it's the greatest gift I could ever give anyone - whether in this business or another."
He spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. "You'll be remembered as the man who fell to prove that Ethan King means business. And once you've at last achieved your destiny? I expect you to disappear back into the gutter where you belong"
He laughs. "But let it never be said I'm not a merciful man. If you learn your place and decide to try to work for your future, King International will be more than happy to help you find a place as part of our family. I am, after all, always grateful to those who embrace their purpose by helping me build my Empire. It's like I said, something all of those listening should remember..."
His smile fades, his expression turning dangerously serious. "Effort is recognized... and loyalty is rewarded."
Well howdy there pardner.