Post by Roberto Verona on Jun 24, 2018 16:12:27 GMT
{ Our scene opens up backstage at the latest episode of Monday Night Sacrifice, deep in the bowels of the arena as technicians and production staff dart around with determination. Hannah Reed rushes frantically through the corridors, practically running as she makes her way hurriedly to the ringside area, almost crashing into one of two people. As she bursts into the gorilla area she suddenly catches sight of her target, her sister Jessica Reed, who is marching away from the multitude of screens as her music is still playing on the PA system. }
Hannah Reed: Jessica!
{ Jess continues to walk by, doing her best to ignore her sister. }
Hannah Reed: Don’t you dare walk away from me!
{ Jess stops in her tracks, her shoulders tensing with frustrations as she clenches her fists and turns around, looking at Hannah with a growing annoyance. }
Jessica Reed: What!?
Hannah Reed: What exactly do you think you were doing out there? You’re going to call out Rowan MacDonnough!? Did you not see what she did to Fiona McFly?
Jessica Reed: Yes, weren’t you listening? That is exactly why I went out there, you never listen to me, you’re just so obsessed with trying to protect me.
Hannah Reed: Can you blame me? When Angel caved your skull in I… we… nearly lost you then, now… now you’re going to throw yourself to a monster with absolutely no principles? Do you know how many phone calls I have fielded this week? Do you know how much effort I’ve had to put in to make sure Fiona McFly doesn’t sue us? How much pressure Roberto is under to fire her?
Jessica Reed: Of course I know.
Hannah Reed: Then why are you putting your neck on the line? You don’t have to be a hero, Jess.
{ Jess clenches her firsts and closes her eyes. }
Jessica Reed: That’s where you’re wrong, sis. I do. If nobody else will stand up for the girls in the back, somebody has to. Sometimes that means personal sacrifices, Roberto taught me that. Firing Rowan won’t make what she did go away, the locker room has always resolved it’s own problems, we don’t need lawyers.
Hannah Reed: Jess, we’ve grown past the carnie past of this business…
Jessica Reed: And that’s why you don’t understand. If you actually listened to me once, really listened, you’d see why I am right.
{ Hannah throws her arms up in exacerbation. }
Hannah Reed: Then please, do enlighten me.
Jessica Reed: Contracts come and go, however demoralising it is to lose your job there is always a next one, there’s always somebody willing to cash in on a “former IWF super star” somewhere on the independent circuit, even more so with notoriety surrounding your departure. You can fire Rowan, but she’ll find somewhere else willing to pay her handsomely to milk the drama surrounding her exit.
Hannah Reed: And why should that concern any of us?
Jessica Reed: Because it doesn’t send out the message that what she did is absolutely unacceptable. We put our trust in each other that we know when enough is enough, no matter the hatred, no matter the animosity, we always make sure we all go home. If the only consequence of betraying that trust is to lose your job, when there’s always somebody with less morals willing to hire you, then what’s stopping anybody else repeating her behaviour?
{ Hannah opens her mouth, trying to find the words but she is left in silence. }
Jessica Reed: I know you worry about me, but you can’t stop this. Neither of you can. Rowan needs to be sent a message, that we aren’t going to stand for her behaviour.
Hannah Reed: And what if she does the same to you? Huh? Have you even considered that? She is a loose cannon, she has no moral compass, Jess. You’re asking me to send you out there with somebody with a total lack of empathy for human life.
Jessica Reed: I’m not asking, Hannah. I’m telling you.
{ Jessica turns to walk away. }
Hannah Reed: Jess, please, let’s talk about this…
{ Jess shakes her head, turning slightly before marching off in the opposite direction, leaving Hannah stood alone in the corridor, tears beginning to well in her eyes as she watches her sister disappear into the bedlam of the backstage area. }
{ Our scene re-opens inside the living room of Roberto Verona’s grand estate, late at night. A fire burns in the great fireplace, crackling gently as it spits out embers into the room along with a warm glow which softly lights the immediate surroundings. Sitting on a sofa is Hannah Reed who looks longingly into the fire, almost oblivious to Roberto who walks into the room, ending a phone call as he spots Hannah sat alone. }
Roberto Verona: Have you managed to get hold of her?
{ Hannah shakes her head solemnly, staring into the flames. }
Roberto Verona: I’ll get in touch with my contacts again, they may have heard something…
{ Hannah sniffs and shakes her head a little more vigorously. }
Hannah Reed: They won’t have, when Jess wants to disappear, she disappears.
Roberto Verona: Then what do we do?
{ Hannah sits silently. }
Roberto Verona: Hannah?
Hannah Reed: There isn’t anything we can do, you heard her, you can ban her from the arena, you can get all the security you want, if she has to find Rowan outside of your realms of control then she is going to do so.
Roberto Verona: Then perhaps the answer is to let this go ahead…
{ Hannah turns to look at Roberto incredulously. }
Hannah Reed: You can’t be serious?
Roberto Verona: You just said it, if we do anything she will take matters into her own hands away from the arena. At least if we let it happen in the middle of an IWF ring we have some ability to control it to the best of our ability.
Hannah Reed: You can’t let her throw herself at that monster.
Roberto Verona: I don’t want to, she isn’t ready. As much as she thinks she is ready to return full time, there’s a world of difference fighting a thrown away athletic contest on a Sacrifice and going to war with a woman willing to choke the life out of you. But…
Hannah Reed: But?
Roberto Verona: She’s going to do it anyway, if we bar her from the arena and she doesn’t get to Rowan this week, it’ll be next week, or the week after. She’s obsessive, you know that.
Hannah Reed: I know… but what if she gets hurt? It’ll be on our watch.
Roberto Verona: And that means we can intervene before it goes too far. We know how the Pack operate, Rowan isn’t going to be out there with any intention of engaging in legitimate combat, there will be something up her sleeve. At least when she reveals what that may be we can move to reduce the…
Hannah Reed: Damage?
{ Verona bows his head for a moment, quietly. }
Roberto Verona: I don’t like this either, believe me, after everything she has been through. Yet… I’m a pro wrestler, Hannah, I know how we operate, how we think. I get what she is trying to do, and she is going to try and do it whether we wrap her in cotton wool or not. I don’t want her to get hurt, but controlling the damage is the best we can do.
Hannah Reed: Forgive me for not being enthusiastic about a plan that inevitably involves in the physical pain of my sister.
Roberto Verona: If they hurt her, Hannah, they will pay. You have my word. I’m going to be locked in a cage with those bastards and there isn’t any kind of God or movie star that isn’t going to get in my way. Yet, I’m going to need your to promise me something?
Hannah Reed: What?
Roberto Verona: Once we’ve got Jess somewhere safe, you stay with her. Don’t be alone back there. If Jess is incapacitated and I am locked in a cage, there will be nobody watching your back.
{ Hannah looks away. }
Roberto Verona: Hannah, promise me.
{ Hannah sighs and nods. }
Hannah Reed: I give you my word, I’ll stay with Jess.
{ Roberto breathes with relief. }
Roberto Verona: In the mean time, I need you to make a phone call, it’ll do you good to get out of here.
Hannah Reed: Oh?
Roberto Verona: This is going to be a war, I need you to get in touch with some back up. They ought to be in Russia, but with what is about to come, I need them urgently.
{ Roberto gets up and turns to leave, looking back at Hannah with concern as our scene fades to black. }
Hannah Reed: Jessica!
{ Jess continues to walk by, doing her best to ignore her sister. }
Hannah Reed: Don’t you dare walk away from me!
{ Jess stops in her tracks, her shoulders tensing with frustrations as she clenches her fists and turns around, looking at Hannah with a growing annoyance. }
Jessica Reed: What!?
Hannah Reed: What exactly do you think you were doing out there? You’re going to call out Rowan MacDonnough!? Did you not see what she did to Fiona McFly?
Jessica Reed: Yes, weren’t you listening? That is exactly why I went out there, you never listen to me, you’re just so obsessed with trying to protect me.
Hannah Reed: Can you blame me? When Angel caved your skull in I… we… nearly lost you then, now… now you’re going to throw yourself to a monster with absolutely no principles? Do you know how many phone calls I have fielded this week? Do you know how much effort I’ve had to put in to make sure Fiona McFly doesn’t sue us? How much pressure Roberto is under to fire her?
Jessica Reed: Of course I know.
Hannah Reed: Then why are you putting your neck on the line? You don’t have to be a hero, Jess.
{ Jess clenches her firsts and closes her eyes. }
Jessica Reed: That’s where you’re wrong, sis. I do. If nobody else will stand up for the girls in the back, somebody has to. Sometimes that means personal sacrifices, Roberto taught me that. Firing Rowan won’t make what she did go away, the locker room has always resolved it’s own problems, we don’t need lawyers.
Hannah Reed: Jess, we’ve grown past the carnie past of this business…
Jessica Reed: And that’s why you don’t understand. If you actually listened to me once, really listened, you’d see why I am right.
{ Hannah throws her arms up in exacerbation. }
Hannah Reed: Then please, do enlighten me.
Jessica Reed: Contracts come and go, however demoralising it is to lose your job there is always a next one, there’s always somebody willing to cash in on a “former IWF super star” somewhere on the independent circuit, even more so with notoriety surrounding your departure. You can fire Rowan, but she’ll find somewhere else willing to pay her handsomely to milk the drama surrounding her exit.
Hannah Reed: And why should that concern any of us?
Jessica Reed: Because it doesn’t send out the message that what she did is absolutely unacceptable. We put our trust in each other that we know when enough is enough, no matter the hatred, no matter the animosity, we always make sure we all go home. If the only consequence of betraying that trust is to lose your job, when there’s always somebody with less morals willing to hire you, then what’s stopping anybody else repeating her behaviour?
{ Hannah opens her mouth, trying to find the words but she is left in silence. }
Jessica Reed: I know you worry about me, but you can’t stop this. Neither of you can. Rowan needs to be sent a message, that we aren’t going to stand for her behaviour.
Hannah Reed: And what if she does the same to you? Huh? Have you even considered that? She is a loose cannon, she has no moral compass, Jess. You’re asking me to send you out there with somebody with a total lack of empathy for human life.
Jessica Reed: I’m not asking, Hannah. I’m telling you.
{ Jessica turns to walk away. }
Hannah Reed: Jess, please, let’s talk about this…
{ Jess shakes her head, turning slightly before marching off in the opposite direction, leaving Hannah stood alone in the corridor, tears beginning to well in her eyes as she watches her sister disappear into the bedlam of the backstage area. }
I never wanted this.
When I returned last month, I was doing it for all the right reasons, with all the right intentions. I was here to work hard and not merely cash in on my name alone, to get back to just being a part of this company.
It’s been a long time since I got into the middle of an IWF ring away from House Shows, if anything I’ve become a footnote in the history of this place. Life has moved on, IWF has moved on, but me? I’ve never moved on. I’ve never stopped wanting to be here, I’ve never stopped wanting to be out in front of this crowd, to hear them roar, to watch the looks on their faces as women put their bodies on the line time and time again.
Now, I’m finally in a place to truly restart my career and yet… just as I prepare to lace up my boots and fight as honestly as I always have, something altogether more serious than my impending return occurred.
Something bigger than me.
What you did to Fiona McFly was complete beyond the pale, Rowan. I don’t give a hoot how you feel about her, I don’t care how little regard you have for the rest of the women you share a locker room with, you crossed a line.
You broke a deeply understood code of conduct we all adhere to.
You crossed a line that even Angel Blake wouldn’t cross. When he cracked a chair across my skull and robbed me of the career I adore, something, somewhere, inside that vessel knew when to stop… he, or it, knew that the message had been sent, that the damage was done. When a man willing to go to the kind of lengths he has gone in this company knew that he shouldn’t go any further, it says a lot about the kind of woman you are.
You’re despicable.
Everybody who knows me, everyone sat at home who has watched me over the years, they know that I always try to see the best in every one… even people who have treated me like trash, even those who have tried to hurt me to make a name for themselves. I never set out to see the worst in somebody but when I watched those monitors in the back…
The work of Rowan MacDonnough was there for the whole world to see.
Fiona McFly is lucky to still be alive, and it isn’t because of some freak accident, everything you did to her was calculated and deliberate. You may not have set out to kill her, even I won’t think that lowly of you, but the reality is perhaps even scarier…
You simply didn’t care.
You choked the life out of her just because you could, you left her in need of urgent medical attention and revelled in it… when you found out just how close to real, tangible, lasting damage she was… you just shrugged…
Every single one of us who has laced up a pair of boots are a human being, Rowan. Whether we’re the vessel for a supernatural force or something else altogether otherworldly. Each and every one of us have a home we long to go back to, somewhere we feel safe, somewhere we feel secure.
Somewhere we can just put our feet up and rest our broken bodies.
Each of us are responsible of making sure that our opponents go back home at the end of the night, even if that’s via a medical facility. We all go out there knowing we could suffer any number of injuries and we could be left in a pool of our own blood, but we all do it safe in the knowledge that the person we are out there with will not keep going when our situation becomes critical.
That they will leave us to fight another day.
We all understand that you can send a message without leaving the recipient unable to consciously receive it, some things are so much bigger than the blood feuds we involve ourselves in inside that ring and ensuring we all get to see another sunrise is core to that. It’s one thing to injure somebody, we all sign up to those risks, it’d even be one thing to inadvertently cause somebody to lose their life… but to do it deliberately… or worse, to do it through wilful negligence?
That is unforgivable.
That is unforgettable.
I owe it to everyone back stage to send you a message, that this isn’t your personal play pen. We let a lot of crazy stuff slide here, I’ve seen a guy get crucified, another lose his finger and even a wild panther, but the wilful neglect of the life of a colleague? That can’t just be brushed away with a legal clause, all we’d be doing is sweeping our problem under the rug and I don’t know about everybody else but…
I couldn’t live with the guilt of seeing you take things one step further out on that circuit because nobody made it abundantly clear that your behaviour is unacceptable.
Simply firing you is too easy, it’s too convenient. It may make the people Bertie answers to feel better about themselves, it may make my sister’s legal team breathe a sigh of relief that you’re no longer their liability but the pro wrestlers… the people who make this business, the people who sacrifice their bodies for this business… they’d be left with a dangerous precedent.
A precedent I cannot allow to be set.
I can’t let a generation of young girls who want to pursue this dream grow up under the impression that when we stand here and we claim we’re going to kill one another that there is a genuine possibility that we will and even worse…
That it is something they ought to strive towards.
There is a whole locker room back here who is out for your head, Rowan. You’ve managed to accomplish something nobody though possible, you’ve united us in a common cause. Love her or hate her, Fiona didn’t deserve what you did to her and if I can’t manage to cash in the cheque you’ve written, somebody else will come after me.
I’m not going to promise that I am going to win or lose this week, I am only going to promise that I am going to make it clear that I, we, don’t stand for your behaviour. That you can’t just get away with it and vanish into the next gullible promotion desperate for some infamy, there are consequences for what you have done and they shouldn’t come neatly folded in an envelope.
If I fail, another will follow. You may relish the idea of a stream of relentless challengers but heed my words Rowan.
You will live to regret what you did.
And the fact that you will is why we are better than you.
When I returned last month, I was doing it for all the right reasons, with all the right intentions. I was here to work hard and not merely cash in on my name alone, to get back to just being a part of this company.
It’s been a long time since I got into the middle of an IWF ring away from House Shows, if anything I’ve become a footnote in the history of this place. Life has moved on, IWF has moved on, but me? I’ve never moved on. I’ve never stopped wanting to be here, I’ve never stopped wanting to be out in front of this crowd, to hear them roar, to watch the looks on their faces as women put their bodies on the line time and time again.
Now, I’m finally in a place to truly restart my career and yet… just as I prepare to lace up my boots and fight as honestly as I always have, something altogether more serious than my impending return occurred.
Something bigger than me.
What you did to Fiona McFly was complete beyond the pale, Rowan. I don’t give a hoot how you feel about her, I don’t care how little regard you have for the rest of the women you share a locker room with, you crossed a line.
You broke a deeply understood code of conduct we all adhere to.
You crossed a line that even Angel Blake wouldn’t cross. When he cracked a chair across my skull and robbed me of the career I adore, something, somewhere, inside that vessel knew when to stop… he, or it, knew that the message had been sent, that the damage was done. When a man willing to go to the kind of lengths he has gone in this company knew that he shouldn’t go any further, it says a lot about the kind of woman you are.
You’re despicable.
Everybody who knows me, everyone sat at home who has watched me over the years, they know that I always try to see the best in every one… even people who have treated me like trash, even those who have tried to hurt me to make a name for themselves. I never set out to see the worst in somebody but when I watched those monitors in the back…
The work of Rowan MacDonnough was there for the whole world to see.
Fiona McFly is lucky to still be alive, and it isn’t because of some freak accident, everything you did to her was calculated and deliberate. You may not have set out to kill her, even I won’t think that lowly of you, but the reality is perhaps even scarier…
You simply didn’t care.
You choked the life out of her just because you could, you left her in need of urgent medical attention and revelled in it… when you found out just how close to real, tangible, lasting damage she was… you just shrugged…
Every single one of us who has laced up a pair of boots are a human being, Rowan. Whether we’re the vessel for a supernatural force or something else altogether otherworldly. Each and every one of us have a home we long to go back to, somewhere we feel safe, somewhere we feel secure.
Somewhere we can just put our feet up and rest our broken bodies.
Each of us are responsible of making sure that our opponents go back home at the end of the night, even if that’s via a medical facility. We all go out there knowing we could suffer any number of injuries and we could be left in a pool of our own blood, but we all do it safe in the knowledge that the person we are out there with will not keep going when our situation becomes critical.
That they will leave us to fight another day.
We all understand that you can send a message without leaving the recipient unable to consciously receive it, some things are so much bigger than the blood feuds we involve ourselves in inside that ring and ensuring we all get to see another sunrise is core to that. It’s one thing to injure somebody, we all sign up to those risks, it’d even be one thing to inadvertently cause somebody to lose their life… but to do it deliberately… or worse, to do it through wilful negligence?
That is unforgivable.
That is unforgettable.
I owe it to everyone back stage to send you a message, that this isn’t your personal play pen. We let a lot of crazy stuff slide here, I’ve seen a guy get crucified, another lose his finger and even a wild panther, but the wilful neglect of the life of a colleague? That can’t just be brushed away with a legal clause, all we’d be doing is sweeping our problem under the rug and I don’t know about everybody else but…
I couldn’t live with the guilt of seeing you take things one step further out on that circuit because nobody made it abundantly clear that your behaviour is unacceptable.
Simply firing you is too easy, it’s too convenient. It may make the people Bertie answers to feel better about themselves, it may make my sister’s legal team breathe a sigh of relief that you’re no longer their liability but the pro wrestlers… the people who make this business, the people who sacrifice their bodies for this business… they’d be left with a dangerous precedent.
A precedent I cannot allow to be set.
I can’t let a generation of young girls who want to pursue this dream grow up under the impression that when we stand here and we claim we’re going to kill one another that there is a genuine possibility that we will and even worse…
That it is something they ought to strive towards.
There is a whole locker room back here who is out for your head, Rowan. You’ve managed to accomplish something nobody though possible, you’ve united us in a common cause. Love her or hate her, Fiona didn’t deserve what you did to her and if I can’t manage to cash in the cheque you’ve written, somebody else will come after me.
I’m not going to promise that I am going to win or lose this week, I am only going to promise that I am going to make it clear that I, we, don’t stand for your behaviour. That you can’t just get away with it and vanish into the next gullible promotion desperate for some infamy, there are consequences for what you have done and they shouldn’t come neatly folded in an envelope.
If I fail, another will follow. You may relish the idea of a stream of relentless challengers but heed my words Rowan.
You will live to regret what you did.
And the fact that you will is why we are better than you.
{ Our scene re-opens inside the living room of Roberto Verona’s grand estate, late at night. A fire burns in the great fireplace, crackling gently as it spits out embers into the room along with a warm glow which softly lights the immediate surroundings. Sitting on a sofa is Hannah Reed who looks longingly into the fire, almost oblivious to Roberto who walks into the room, ending a phone call as he spots Hannah sat alone. }
Roberto Verona: Have you managed to get hold of her?
{ Hannah shakes her head solemnly, staring into the flames. }
Roberto Verona: I’ll get in touch with my contacts again, they may have heard something…
{ Hannah sniffs and shakes her head a little more vigorously. }
Hannah Reed: They won’t have, when Jess wants to disappear, she disappears.
Roberto Verona: Then what do we do?
{ Hannah sits silently. }
Roberto Verona: Hannah?
Hannah Reed: There isn’t anything we can do, you heard her, you can ban her from the arena, you can get all the security you want, if she has to find Rowan outside of your realms of control then she is going to do so.
Roberto Verona: Then perhaps the answer is to let this go ahead…
{ Hannah turns to look at Roberto incredulously. }
Hannah Reed: You can’t be serious?
Roberto Verona: You just said it, if we do anything she will take matters into her own hands away from the arena. At least if we let it happen in the middle of an IWF ring we have some ability to control it to the best of our ability.
Hannah Reed: You can’t let her throw herself at that monster.
Roberto Verona: I don’t want to, she isn’t ready. As much as she thinks she is ready to return full time, there’s a world of difference fighting a thrown away athletic contest on a Sacrifice and going to war with a woman willing to choke the life out of you. But…
Hannah Reed: But?
Roberto Verona: She’s going to do it anyway, if we bar her from the arena and she doesn’t get to Rowan this week, it’ll be next week, or the week after. She’s obsessive, you know that.
Hannah Reed: I know… but what if she gets hurt? It’ll be on our watch.
Roberto Verona: And that means we can intervene before it goes too far. We know how the Pack operate, Rowan isn’t going to be out there with any intention of engaging in legitimate combat, there will be something up her sleeve. At least when she reveals what that may be we can move to reduce the…
Hannah Reed: Damage?
{ Verona bows his head for a moment, quietly. }
Roberto Verona: I don’t like this either, believe me, after everything she has been through. Yet… I’m a pro wrestler, Hannah, I know how we operate, how we think. I get what she is trying to do, and she is going to try and do it whether we wrap her in cotton wool or not. I don’t want her to get hurt, but controlling the damage is the best we can do.
Hannah Reed: Forgive me for not being enthusiastic about a plan that inevitably involves in the physical pain of my sister.
Roberto Verona: If they hurt her, Hannah, they will pay. You have my word. I’m going to be locked in a cage with those bastards and there isn’t any kind of God or movie star that isn’t going to get in my way. Yet, I’m going to need your to promise me something?
Hannah Reed: What?
Roberto Verona: Once we’ve got Jess somewhere safe, you stay with her. Don’t be alone back there. If Jess is incapacitated and I am locked in a cage, there will be nobody watching your back.
{ Hannah looks away. }
Roberto Verona: Hannah, promise me.
{ Hannah sighs and nods. }
Hannah Reed: I give you my word, I’ll stay with Jess.
{ Roberto breathes with relief. }
Roberto Verona: In the mean time, I need you to make a phone call, it’ll do you good to get out of here.
Hannah Reed: Oh?
Roberto Verona: This is going to be a war, I need you to get in touch with some back up. They ought to be in Russia, but with what is about to come, I need them urgently.
{ Roberto gets up and turns to leave, looking back at Hannah with concern as our scene fades to black. }
So here we are again.
A war between Gods and men and somewhere In between.
I suppose it was inevitable wasn’t it? When Angel Blake returned, complete with whatever is utilising his carcass as a vessel, it was always an eventuality that sooner or later, chaos would reign. And here we are. Not only is IWF under threat from a biblical prophecy, it’s also under threat from being torn to pieces by a rabid pack of animals.
And a trio of egotistical self-absorbed drama queens.
And no, I don’t mean me, Cable and Bob.
We’re not drama queens.
In less than a month the entire company has descended into an all out turf war between forces beyond our comprehension and vicious opportunists who have decided to make a name for themselves by attacking the biggest dog in the yard, so much so that myself and Cable have been forced to intervene, personally.
Usually I would simply sit to one side and see how this all plays out, I’m not so stupid and filled with youthful hubris that I need to dive head first into every potential conflict that is unfolding before me, yet it is clear that this simply isn’t an option. Chaos… chaos cannot be contained, chaos breaks free and chaos consumes everything surrounding it.
Welcome to a world of Gods and Men.
If you were simply absorbed in destroying one another, that would be one thing, that would be something I could contain, something that I could control… yet it is readily apparent that neither of you are overly concerned about the casualties your conflict will collect, the innocent bystanders who will be dragged into your brutal rallies.
Whatever your end goals, neither of you are even remotely concerned about the collateral involved.
Then of course there are the opportunists, those who wish to revisit grudges amidst the chaos, those who wish to exploit it for their own advancement whilst being completely blind to the reality of what is happening. Steve, Malo and Rob… none of you realise that in the world the Pack and the Gods are fighting over, there is no room for whatever niche you manage to carve out in the ensuing destruction.
Once they’re done with another and a victor has been determined, they will turn their attentions to you.
Gods do not rule in conjunction with men.
Rabid animals do not tolerate other predators in their territory.
So once again it falls upon myself, and now Cable, to be the responsible ones and ensure that IWF is preserved and contain this brutality, and thankfully we have somebody by our side who is capable of seeing through this madness. There’s no use fighting over the dominance of a world if there isn’t one left at the end of it. IWF must weather this storm and it is our responsibility to ensure that it lives to fight another day.
I don’t care who you are, I will not allow you to so flagrantly destroy what I have spent my entire life building.
I reject any God who is hell bent on destroying his own creation, I reject any pack which is blind to the importance of a healthy ecosystem in their lust for flesh and I reject those who would see an opportunity in a moment of existential crisis to further their own interests for a fleeting second of feeling that rush of relevance once again.
I will defy anybody who forgets that the battlefield they’re so determined to fight upon is one of my own design.
One I have fought for my whole life.
Whilst you throw blow after blow against one another, it is my responsibility to ensure that the innocent are not caught up in the crossfire. It is my responsibility to ensure that you do not consume everything around you simply so you may be the masters of a smoking ruin. Each of you are fighting a war in which you do not consider that there will be anything after its conclusion, it is my responsibility to make sure that there is still another tomorrow, regardless of how much damage you do.
I am lucky that I have two men by my side who share that vision.
I am lucky that I have two men by my side of the calibre of Cable Arcance and Bob Pooler.
Each of them understand that this weekend will not be the conclusion to this conflict, we will send nine other men away licking their wounds, no… we realise that this is simply one battle in a war, but it is a vital one. This weekend is about restoring some semblance of control, to get a grip of this runaway train before it ploughs into something… or someone.
It is merely the first shot in a volley of gunfire, but it is one that must find it’s mark.
Me, Cable and Bob…we all understand what it at stake is here. We all understand the ramifications of our failure to contain this fire before it consumes everything in its wake. We know that we simply have to get a grip on all this before it spirals any further. I have my contingencies in place, but that is simply the pragmatist in me, I will never leave any eventuality uncovered, but there is no doubt in my mind that we have to succeed this week, or it’s going to be a much harder fight.
It’s much more difficult to put the genie back in the bottle.
We can’t solve our problems this week, but we can at least contain them. We can prevent these mass brawls, we can prevent this company being torn apart as each of your desperately search for some sort of advantage over one another, constantly escalating to inch ahead of your foes. That is our mission, that is our goal…
That is all that matters.
IWF has been under threat before, IWF has weather many storms, but it has only done so because when it has suffered somebody has been willing to stand up and fight. Somebody has been willing to put their bodies on the line for the greater good, whatever that may be.
This time it is me, Cable and Bob.
We are the only thing standing between relative stability and a descent into anarchy. We are the balance that IWF is in desperate need of.
And we must not fail.
We cannot fail.
Whatever it takes, we will defy Gods, we will defy the odds of a ferocious pack and we will vanquish the delusions of grandeur from a trio of opportunists. And when the dust has settled, we will re-establish the control which has slipped from our fingers…
And you can consume one another without it being at the expense of everybody else...
Especially her.
A war between Gods and men and somewhere In between.
I suppose it was inevitable wasn’t it? When Angel Blake returned, complete with whatever is utilising his carcass as a vessel, it was always an eventuality that sooner or later, chaos would reign. And here we are. Not only is IWF under threat from a biblical prophecy, it’s also under threat from being torn to pieces by a rabid pack of animals.
And a trio of egotistical self-absorbed drama queens.
And no, I don’t mean me, Cable and Bob.
We’re not drama queens.
In less than a month the entire company has descended into an all out turf war between forces beyond our comprehension and vicious opportunists who have decided to make a name for themselves by attacking the biggest dog in the yard, so much so that myself and Cable have been forced to intervene, personally.
Usually I would simply sit to one side and see how this all plays out, I’m not so stupid and filled with youthful hubris that I need to dive head first into every potential conflict that is unfolding before me, yet it is clear that this simply isn’t an option. Chaos… chaos cannot be contained, chaos breaks free and chaos consumes everything surrounding it.
Welcome to a world of Gods and Men.
If you were simply absorbed in destroying one another, that would be one thing, that would be something I could contain, something that I could control… yet it is readily apparent that neither of you are overly concerned about the casualties your conflict will collect, the innocent bystanders who will be dragged into your brutal rallies.
Whatever your end goals, neither of you are even remotely concerned about the collateral involved.
Then of course there are the opportunists, those who wish to revisit grudges amidst the chaos, those who wish to exploit it for their own advancement whilst being completely blind to the reality of what is happening. Steve, Malo and Rob… none of you realise that in the world the Pack and the Gods are fighting over, there is no room for whatever niche you manage to carve out in the ensuing destruction.
Once they’re done with another and a victor has been determined, they will turn their attentions to you.
Gods do not rule in conjunction with men.
Rabid animals do not tolerate other predators in their territory.
So once again it falls upon myself, and now Cable, to be the responsible ones and ensure that IWF is preserved and contain this brutality, and thankfully we have somebody by our side who is capable of seeing through this madness. There’s no use fighting over the dominance of a world if there isn’t one left at the end of it. IWF must weather this storm and it is our responsibility to ensure that it lives to fight another day.
I don’t care who you are, I will not allow you to so flagrantly destroy what I have spent my entire life building.
I reject any God who is hell bent on destroying his own creation, I reject any pack which is blind to the importance of a healthy ecosystem in their lust for flesh and I reject those who would see an opportunity in a moment of existential crisis to further their own interests for a fleeting second of feeling that rush of relevance once again.
I will defy anybody who forgets that the battlefield they’re so determined to fight upon is one of my own design.
One I have fought for my whole life.
Whilst you throw blow after blow against one another, it is my responsibility to ensure that the innocent are not caught up in the crossfire. It is my responsibility to ensure that you do not consume everything around you simply so you may be the masters of a smoking ruin. Each of you are fighting a war in which you do not consider that there will be anything after its conclusion, it is my responsibility to make sure that there is still another tomorrow, regardless of how much damage you do.
I am lucky that I have two men by my side who share that vision.
I am lucky that I have two men by my side of the calibre of Cable Arcance and Bob Pooler.
Each of them understand that this weekend will not be the conclusion to this conflict, we will send nine other men away licking their wounds, no… we realise that this is simply one battle in a war, but it is a vital one. This weekend is about restoring some semblance of control, to get a grip of this runaway train before it ploughs into something… or someone.
It is merely the first shot in a volley of gunfire, but it is one that must find it’s mark.
Me, Cable and Bob…we all understand what it at stake is here. We all understand the ramifications of our failure to contain this fire before it consumes everything in its wake. We know that we simply have to get a grip on all this before it spirals any further. I have my contingencies in place, but that is simply the pragmatist in me, I will never leave any eventuality uncovered, but there is no doubt in my mind that we have to succeed this week, or it’s going to be a much harder fight.
It’s much more difficult to put the genie back in the bottle.
We can’t solve our problems this week, but we can at least contain them. We can prevent these mass brawls, we can prevent this company being torn apart as each of your desperately search for some sort of advantage over one another, constantly escalating to inch ahead of your foes. That is our mission, that is our goal…
That is all that matters.
IWF has been under threat before, IWF has weather many storms, but it has only done so because when it has suffered somebody has been willing to stand up and fight. Somebody has been willing to put their bodies on the line for the greater good, whatever that may be.
This time it is me, Cable and Bob.
We are the only thing standing between relative stability and a descent into anarchy. We are the balance that IWF is in desperate need of.
And we must not fail.
We cannot fail.
Whatever it takes, we will defy Gods, we will defy the odds of a ferocious pack and we will vanquish the delusions of grandeur from a trio of opportunists. And when the dust has settled, we will re-establish the control which has slipped from our fingers…
And you can consume one another without it being at the expense of everybody else...
Especially her.
Well howdy there pardner.