Post by Roberto Verona on Aug 25, 2021 20:35:07 GMT
{ Our scene opens up on the locker room backstage at the latest Sacrifice. Roberto Verona sits on a medical bed, a wound open above his eyebrow as Hannah Reed carefully threads another stitch through it. }
Roberto Verona: I really wish this didn’t feel so familiar.
Hannah Reed: What didn’t?
Roberto Verona: You playing nurse with all the pain and none of the eroticism.
{ Roberto winces as Hannah suddenly pushes the needle into his skin. }
Roberto Verona: Ok, maybe I deserved that.
Hannah Reed: Hold still…
{ Hannah threads through the final stitch before cutting it and applying a plaster. }
Hannah Reed: If you didn’t want people to hit you so hard, you’d work on being a little more diplomatic.
Roberto Verona: I thought you said I was charming?
{ Hannah hits Verona playfully on his bruised shoulder, causing him to laugh in pain. }
Roberto Verona: Jesus… I didn’t hear a bell.
Hannah Reed: You’ll live. Besides it isn’t my ruthless left hook you should be concerned about.
Roberto Verona: Why, is Jess going to take a swing as well?
Hannah Reed: You must be feeling better, you’re only this much of a smart ass when you are.
{ Verona grins. }
Roberto Verona: Believe me, my mind has been on Ulf Hednir since the moment the confetti fell.
Hannah Reed: Those were a bit of a giveaway…
{ Hannah nods towards a stack of DVDs of Ulf’s latest matches }
Roberto Verona: I took something very dear from JC Keeton, I know how much a tournament like this can define your career. The biggest insult I could give him and all the men I beat isn’t to leave them flat on their backs, it’s to fail when it truly counts.
{ Roberto pauses, his stares suddenly growing with intensity as he looks at the DVDs as well. }
Roberto Verona: I cannot walk a path to redeem myself from failure only to forge a new one.
{ Hannah nods. }
Hannah Reed: You know I believe in you. Always.
Roberto Verona: And I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you have sacrificed so I could chase my dreams.
Hannah Reed: Unfortunately, you charmed me.
{ Hannah smiles as she kisses Roberto on the forehead, standing up to remove her gloves and close her first aid kit. }
Hannah Reed: I know this may be a stupid question but… have you considered what comes next?
Roberto Verona: You mean when I become World Champion?
{ Hannah nods. }
Roberto Verona: I become what I was born to be. A target. I meant every word I said, the boys and girls in that locker room? Ulf? They’re some of the finest talent I’ve ever seen, this was everything we built this company for. I don’t want to help them become everything they can be from an office… I want to be a measuring stick against which their credentials can be assessed.
Hannah Reed: And you’re prepared for that?
Roberto Verona: I’ve never been more prepared. I understand how privileged I am to have accomplished everything I did, but I did that by testing myself against the best. Every single one of them. If I am on the sidelines there will always be a question mark hanging over them which I never left unanswered. I owe it to them to give them the same opportunities Angel and Dean have to remove any doubts.
{ Verona turns to look back at Hannah. }
Roberto Verona: It’s time to make sure this business is better when we leave than it was when we arrived.
Roberto Verona: I really wish this didn’t feel so familiar.
Hannah Reed: What didn’t?
Roberto Verona: You playing nurse with all the pain and none of the eroticism.
{ Roberto winces as Hannah suddenly pushes the needle into his skin. }
Roberto Verona: Ok, maybe I deserved that.
Hannah Reed: Hold still…
{ Hannah threads through the final stitch before cutting it and applying a plaster. }
Hannah Reed: If you didn’t want people to hit you so hard, you’d work on being a little more diplomatic.
Roberto Verona: I thought you said I was charming?
{ Hannah hits Verona playfully on his bruised shoulder, causing him to laugh in pain. }
Roberto Verona: Jesus… I didn’t hear a bell.
Hannah Reed: You’ll live. Besides it isn’t my ruthless left hook you should be concerned about.
Roberto Verona: Why, is Jess going to take a swing as well?
Hannah Reed: You must be feeling better, you’re only this much of a smart ass when you are.
{ Verona grins. }
Roberto Verona: Believe me, my mind has been on Ulf Hednir since the moment the confetti fell.
Hannah Reed: Those were a bit of a giveaway…
{ Hannah nods towards a stack of DVDs of Ulf’s latest matches }
Roberto Verona: I took something very dear from JC Keeton, I know how much a tournament like this can define your career. The biggest insult I could give him and all the men I beat isn’t to leave them flat on their backs, it’s to fail when it truly counts.
{ Roberto pauses, his stares suddenly growing with intensity as he looks at the DVDs as well. }
Roberto Verona: I cannot walk a path to redeem myself from failure only to forge a new one.
{ Hannah nods. }
Hannah Reed: You know I believe in you. Always.
Roberto Verona: And I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you have sacrificed so I could chase my dreams.
Hannah Reed: Unfortunately, you charmed me.
{ Hannah smiles as she kisses Roberto on the forehead, standing up to remove her gloves and close her first aid kit. }
Hannah Reed: I know this may be a stupid question but… have you considered what comes next?
Roberto Verona: You mean when I become World Champion?
{ Hannah nods. }
Roberto Verona: I become what I was born to be. A target. I meant every word I said, the boys and girls in that locker room? Ulf? They’re some of the finest talent I’ve ever seen, this was everything we built this company for. I don’t want to help them become everything they can be from an office… I want to be a measuring stick against which their credentials can be assessed.
Hannah Reed: And you’re prepared for that?
Roberto Verona: I’ve never been more prepared. I understand how privileged I am to have accomplished everything I did, but I did that by testing myself against the best. Every single one of them. If I am on the sidelines there will always be a question mark hanging over them which I never left unanswered. I owe it to them to give them the same opportunities Angel and Dean have to remove any doubts.
{ Verona turns to look back at Hannah. }
Roberto Verona: It’s time to make sure this business is better when we leave than it was when we arrived.
I came.
I saw.
I conquered.
Are you all paying attention now? When I said I’d become Heir to the Throne, I told you that it wasn’t a prediction, it was a conviction.
But the truth is, I can’t afford to rest on my laurels. I may have become what I set out to be, but this isn’t over.
The journey is only half completed.
I silenced the demons of my previous failure when I pinned JC Keeton to the mat and became the Heir to the Throne, but no man should be satisfied until the crown rests squarely upon his head. After all what is the point in vanquishing one failure only to add another? I said I was coming for you Ulf, not out of disrespect for JC, but out of respect for you. Winning the Heir to the Throne is a tremendous honour, but it is only one battle in a far greater war.
You are the end game. You made sure of that when you fulfilled your own promises.
Congratulations are in order, Ulf. Belated perhaps, but they’re here all the same. I say all of this with the fullest of sincerity, because I never lie. You have proven yourself to be every inch the man you’ve always claimed to be, since the moment you walked into our development centre right up until the week before your ultimate triumph.
You should be proud.
You should be elated.
You should be worried.
Because now… now is when the real challenge begins. Adrenaline and sheer determination can sometimes be enough to carry your through the chase, but everything changes when the hunter becomes the hunted. You’re no longer another in a long line of potential champions.
You are the champion.
You are everything everybody in your peer group aspires to be, but you’re also everything those who have come before you seek to regain. No longer can you carve out a path towards greatness out of sight and out of mind of the most dangerous predators, you’re about to find yourself front and centre of the menu.
Can you feel it yet… Ulf? The sudden turn of a thousand eyes upon your back? The sudden dimming of light as the darkness surrounds you…
{ Roberto smiles. }
Allow me to welcome you personally to the premature death throes of your championship reign. You’ve such precious time left to enjoy the fruits of your labours, even at the time of your final defeat their will be little time to take comfort in your oblivion. For I am coming I am coming for you. I am coming for the IWF World Championship. No matter how much you resist, no matter who much you struggle…
Destiny arrives all the same.
I have spent years waiting for this moment, I will not, cannot, simply let it pass me by. I didn’t return to the ring to have a chorus of sycophants patronisingly chant “you’ve still got it” at me, I returned to prove it by defeating any opposition in my way. Week after week I have placed my boot on the throat of the biggest prospects in professional wrestling, I have scratched, and I have clawed my way right to the top of the food chain and all that’s left…
Is you.
You stand between me and my final destination, Ulf. You’re the last man standing in the path of an irresistible force which will not take failure for an answer. I cannot stop until you have fallen. You are all that I have left to conquer, the last defiant rebel in my quest for absolute victory, a victim of time and circumstances. Because the truth is… I like you Ulf.
I’ve watched you fight a bloody path to your own personal glory; I’ve watched you prove time and time again that you are a warrior.
I’ve watched you justify everything anybody in this industry has said about you.
Make no mistake, nobody flukes a victory over Warren Kane and Dean Harper. When you step inside a ring with those two men you either walk out a champion or you struggle to walk out at all… and here you are. The IWF World Champion. The pinnacle of professional wrestling. The only problem is, Ulf, you’ve arrived at the apex of your career just as the single biggest threat to your position has emerged from the maelstrom.
I will watch your world burn.
Not because I find any pleasure in it, far from it, but because it is necessary. For my absolution to be complete you must be sacrificed, it is a regrettable yet inevitable fact that I came to terms with the moment I saw your crowning achievement. For all the pride I felt in your rise, I will feel no guilt in your fall.
Because that is what separates me from the men you’ve fought before.
There isn’t a single thing I am unwilling to do to achieve my aims. I shook the hand of the devil to build this company and I’ve long since ceased my attempts to wash the blood from my hands, they’re a coagulated mess of my various enemies and some of my dearest friends. You have something I want and if I have to cheat and brutalise my way through this week to get it, then I will.
Fighting fairly is for the footnotes in history. Remember that.
I understand what I am walking into this week. I know that when I look across that ring and stare into your eyes, there will not have entertained a single doubt that you will be leaving without your hard-fought plunder. I know that when the bell rings you will fight with everything you have inside you to defend it. I know that because that is precisely what every single man I have overcome has done.
Every single one of them.
And yet? Here I stand. The Heir to your Throne. No matter the will, no matter the bravado, each one of them has been sent back to the foot of the table to ponder on how to circumnavigate their way back up to the platform we will be sharing. They’ve all been confident that this week would be their week, that they would be the ones to put an end to my mission.
They all thought they were the exception.
But the only common denominator in all of this has been the whiplash of reality as the official’s hand has hit one, two, three. Every single man who has entertained delusions of grandeur has been left staring up at me and realising that when I look into this camera, as I am now, these aren’t the word of an overconfident orator.
They’re promises.
I know you don’t believe me, neither did they, but fell they did. I know you have every reason not to believe me, after all, you have carved out your own irresistible momentum that would steel the confidence of anybody. Time and time again you have conquered, and you have moved ever forwards and that… that is the reason you will lose.
Because you do not understand the true cost of high stakes failure or what is does to drive you to avenge it.
Now don’t get me wrong… you think you do… you’ve lost matches, right? You’ve missed out on glory on occasions and stumbled when you were finding your feet. You’ve been on this path for four years, through the exits and the returns. But meaningless setbacks which do little to stagnate your irresistible progress are just that. Meaningless. They’re bruises, never deep enough to leave a lasting lesson. Everything you have touched since you truly applied yourself has turned to gold, you are without doubt a modern-day Midas, yet that is your greatest weakness.
I am here because I suffered the agony of ignominy on the biggest stage when I failed to beat Xavier Cross.
I am here so you can learn a similar lesson.
Because nothing… nothing can compare to losing what you hold around your waist right now so soon after you captured it with so many dreams of what you’ll do with it. It is the single most career defining object any of us can ever hope to possess, it is why we first laced up a pair of boots in the first place. It is the one thing which will define how you are remembered in this industry the day you are forced to hang them up.
Failing to successfully defend it is the single biggest doubt against your name. Failing to accomplish everything you set out to do with it is the biggest disappointment.
It is the hardest lesson to learn, and I am a willing teacher.
It is also how we will truly find out what sort of man Ulf Hednir is. You’ve ridden a wave of relentless success, earning plaudits and admirers the world over, but that is the easy part. Right now, nobody doubts you. But what happens when you finally stumble after so many victories on the biggest stage with so much left to accomplish? Are you able to pick yourself back up and go again? Are you able to rally yourself before the wolves devour you?
That is what divides the Angel Blakes from the James Gilmores. The Dean Harpers from the Joe Everymans. The ability to recover from failures which far exceed the universal bumps in the road we all suffer and to find ourselves back here on this platform, undeterred.
I cannot fail this weekend, Ulf. Not again.
But you, as much as you may deny it… you need to fail. You need to taste what drives us to true greatness. You need to learn what brought a man like me to your door instead of the other way around. You may be a warrior, you may be one of the single most gifted wrestlers of your entire generation, but we’ve learnt all there is to know about Ulf Hednir the winner.
Now its time to find out what we need to know about Ulf Hednir the loser when something of true value is on the line.
Because this isn’t a Norse saga, you will not be joining Odin’s hall with a warrior’s death. This isn’t a choice between mortal glory or the immortal cry of golden trumpets and cheers of your brethren. You’re going to stare up at those lights and when the cloud lifts and your wits return to you, realising you’re very much alive… you’ll face the biggest battle of your career. Far bigger than any opponent could ever be. The battle with yourself.
As for me?
{ Verona leans back in his chair and stares into the camera. }
I will fulfil what I set out to accomplish.
I will become the IWF World Champion.
I will once again be the King of the World.
And there is nothing you, or anybody else, can do to stop me.
I saw.
I conquered.
Are you all paying attention now? When I said I’d become Heir to the Throne, I told you that it wasn’t a prediction, it was a conviction.
But the truth is, I can’t afford to rest on my laurels. I may have become what I set out to be, but this isn’t over.
The journey is only half completed.
I silenced the demons of my previous failure when I pinned JC Keeton to the mat and became the Heir to the Throne, but no man should be satisfied until the crown rests squarely upon his head. After all what is the point in vanquishing one failure only to add another? I said I was coming for you Ulf, not out of disrespect for JC, but out of respect for you. Winning the Heir to the Throne is a tremendous honour, but it is only one battle in a far greater war.
You are the end game. You made sure of that when you fulfilled your own promises.
Congratulations are in order, Ulf. Belated perhaps, but they’re here all the same. I say all of this with the fullest of sincerity, because I never lie. You have proven yourself to be every inch the man you’ve always claimed to be, since the moment you walked into our development centre right up until the week before your ultimate triumph.
You should be proud.
You should be elated.
You should be worried.
Because now… now is when the real challenge begins. Adrenaline and sheer determination can sometimes be enough to carry your through the chase, but everything changes when the hunter becomes the hunted. You’re no longer another in a long line of potential champions.
You are the champion.
You are everything everybody in your peer group aspires to be, but you’re also everything those who have come before you seek to regain. No longer can you carve out a path towards greatness out of sight and out of mind of the most dangerous predators, you’re about to find yourself front and centre of the menu.
Can you feel it yet… Ulf? The sudden turn of a thousand eyes upon your back? The sudden dimming of light as the darkness surrounds you…
{ Roberto smiles. }
Allow me to welcome you personally to the premature death throes of your championship reign. You’ve such precious time left to enjoy the fruits of your labours, even at the time of your final defeat their will be little time to take comfort in your oblivion. For I am coming I am coming for you. I am coming for the IWF World Championship. No matter how much you resist, no matter who much you struggle…
Destiny arrives all the same.
I have spent years waiting for this moment, I will not, cannot, simply let it pass me by. I didn’t return to the ring to have a chorus of sycophants patronisingly chant “you’ve still got it” at me, I returned to prove it by defeating any opposition in my way. Week after week I have placed my boot on the throat of the biggest prospects in professional wrestling, I have scratched, and I have clawed my way right to the top of the food chain and all that’s left…
Is you.
You stand between me and my final destination, Ulf. You’re the last man standing in the path of an irresistible force which will not take failure for an answer. I cannot stop until you have fallen. You are all that I have left to conquer, the last defiant rebel in my quest for absolute victory, a victim of time and circumstances. Because the truth is… I like you Ulf.
I’ve watched you fight a bloody path to your own personal glory; I’ve watched you prove time and time again that you are a warrior.
I’ve watched you justify everything anybody in this industry has said about you.
Make no mistake, nobody flukes a victory over Warren Kane and Dean Harper. When you step inside a ring with those two men you either walk out a champion or you struggle to walk out at all… and here you are. The IWF World Champion. The pinnacle of professional wrestling. The only problem is, Ulf, you’ve arrived at the apex of your career just as the single biggest threat to your position has emerged from the maelstrom.
I will watch your world burn.
Not because I find any pleasure in it, far from it, but because it is necessary. For my absolution to be complete you must be sacrificed, it is a regrettable yet inevitable fact that I came to terms with the moment I saw your crowning achievement. For all the pride I felt in your rise, I will feel no guilt in your fall.
Because that is what separates me from the men you’ve fought before.
There isn’t a single thing I am unwilling to do to achieve my aims. I shook the hand of the devil to build this company and I’ve long since ceased my attempts to wash the blood from my hands, they’re a coagulated mess of my various enemies and some of my dearest friends. You have something I want and if I have to cheat and brutalise my way through this week to get it, then I will.
Fighting fairly is for the footnotes in history. Remember that.
I understand what I am walking into this week. I know that when I look across that ring and stare into your eyes, there will not have entertained a single doubt that you will be leaving without your hard-fought plunder. I know that when the bell rings you will fight with everything you have inside you to defend it. I know that because that is precisely what every single man I have overcome has done.
Every single one of them.
And yet? Here I stand. The Heir to your Throne. No matter the will, no matter the bravado, each one of them has been sent back to the foot of the table to ponder on how to circumnavigate their way back up to the platform we will be sharing. They’ve all been confident that this week would be their week, that they would be the ones to put an end to my mission.
They all thought they were the exception.
But the only common denominator in all of this has been the whiplash of reality as the official’s hand has hit one, two, three. Every single man who has entertained delusions of grandeur has been left staring up at me and realising that when I look into this camera, as I am now, these aren’t the word of an overconfident orator.
They’re promises.
I know you don’t believe me, neither did they, but fell they did. I know you have every reason not to believe me, after all, you have carved out your own irresistible momentum that would steel the confidence of anybody. Time and time again you have conquered, and you have moved ever forwards and that… that is the reason you will lose.
Because you do not understand the true cost of high stakes failure or what is does to drive you to avenge it.
Now don’t get me wrong… you think you do… you’ve lost matches, right? You’ve missed out on glory on occasions and stumbled when you were finding your feet. You’ve been on this path for four years, through the exits and the returns. But meaningless setbacks which do little to stagnate your irresistible progress are just that. Meaningless. They’re bruises, never deep enough to leave a lasting lesson. Everything you have touched since you truly applied yourself has turned to gold, you are without doubt a modern-day Midas, yet that is your greatest weakness.
I am here because I suffered the agony of ignominy on the biggest stage when I failed to beat Xavier Cross.
I am here so you can learn a similar lesson.
Because nothing… nothing can compare to losing what you hold around your waist right now so soon after you captured it with so many dreams of what you’ll do with it. It is the single most career defining object any of us can ever hope to possess, it is why we first laced up a pair of boots in the first place. It is the one thing which will define how you are remembered in this industry the day you are forced to hang them up.
Failing to successfully defend it is the single biggest doubt against your name. Failing to accomplish everything you set out to do with it is the biggest disappointment.
It is the hardest lesson to learn, and I am a willing teacher.
It is also how we will truly find out what sort of man Ulf Hednir is. You’ve ridden a wave of relentless success, earning plaudits and admirers the world over, but that is the easy part. Right now, nobody doubts you. But what happens when you finally stumble after so many victories on the biggest stage with so much left to accomplish? Are you able to pick yourself back up and go again? Are you able to rally yourself before the wolves devour you?
That is what divides the Angel Blakes from the James Gilmores. The Dean Harpers from the Joe Everymans. The ability to recover from failures which far exceed the universal bumps in the road we all suffer and to find ourselves back here on this platform, undeterred.
I cannot fail this weekend, Ulf. Not again.
But you, as much as you may deny it… you need to fail. You need to taste what drives us to true greatness. You need to learn what brought a man like me to your door instead of the other way around. You may be a warrior, you may be one of the single most gifted wrestlers of your entire generation, but we’ve learnt all there is to know about Ulf Hednir the winner.
Now its time to find out what we need to know about Ulf Hednir the loser when something of true value is on the line.
Because this isn’t a Norse saga, you will not be joining Odin’s hall with a warrior’s death. This isn’t a choice between mortal glory or the immortal cry of golden trumpets and cheers of your brethren. You’re going to stare up at those lights and when the cloud lifts and your wits return to you, realising you’re very much alive… you’ll face the biggest battle of your career. Far bigger than any opponent could ever be. The battle with yourself.
As for me?
{ Verona leans back in his chair and stares into the camera. }
I will fulfil what I set out to accomplish.
I will become the IWF World Champion.
I will once again be the King of the World.
And there is nothing you, or anybody else, can do to stop me.