Post by Ghost Spike on Jan 30, 2016 19:53:55 GMT
It’s been a long time coming, longer than most people would have the patience for. Hell, longer than I usually have the patience for, but here I am…..merely days away from finally getting my hands on Mohammed Al Thani. Finally getting to teach that little prick the ultimate error of his ways, the only way I know how.
Pure. Unfiltered. Violence.
I can feel myself salivating at the prospect of it. For the first time in a long time the God of Xtreme will be unleashed in his element, for the first time in a long time there are no restrictions….nobody telling me what I can and can’t do, nobody trying to get in my way in the interest if “fairness” or protecting some asshole like Rob did, like AJ did….funny how they both ended up on the losing end of those interactions, huh? But most importantly, the Blood God, the God of Xtreme, The Spiked One…
Comes home.
You see, the Dragons Den is my creation. Born from the most violent thoughts I could sum up in the most dangerous part of my career, when I didn’t have any family to think about, when I didn’t have a legacy to control, when championships weren’t even on my horizon…..I simply wanted to hurt people, and I was fucking good at it too, some might even say I was the best. There have been plenty who have come and tried to take my throne, but they have all fallen at my hand, and some have even fallen within the walls of the Dragons Den…
Davey Ortega….
Angel Blake….
Alex Jones….
Jake Conway, though that is a subject for another day.
The nail I’m trying to drive into the coffin here Mohammed is simply this, better men than you have tried to put me down, tried to steal my throne, tried to ascend to my level but every single one of them has failed. Every single one of them wasn’t enough to take me down, and there isn’t a god damned thing you could do to even come close to achieving that goal. So I’ll prepare for our match at Metamorphosis Al Thani, I’ll prepare to reassume my mantle as the Blood God, and you? You’re big change, will simply be from a functioning human being…
To breathing through a respirator.
~~~
Pure. Unfiltered. Violence.
I can feel myself salivating at the prospect of it. For the first time in a long time the God of Xtreme will be unleashed in his element, for the first time in a long time there are no restrictions….nobody telling me what I can and can’t do, nobody trying to get in my way in the interest if “fairness” or protecting some asshole like Rob did, like AJ did….funny how they both ended up on the losing end of those interactions, huh? But most importantly, the Blood God, the God of Xtreme, The Spiked One…
Comes home.
You see, the Dragons Den is my creation. Born from the most violent thoughts I could sum up in the most dangerous part of my career, when I didn’t have any family to think about, when I didn’t have a legacy to control, when championships weren’t even on my horizon…..I simply wanted to hurt people, and I was fucking good at it too, some might even say I was the best. There have been plenty who have come and tried to take my throne, but they have all fallen at my hand, and some have even fallen within the walls of the Dragons Den…
Davey Ortega….
Angel Blake….
Alex Jones….
Jake Conway, though that is a subject for another day.
The nail I’m trying to drive into the coffin here Mohammed is simply this, better men than you have tried to put me down, tried to steal my throne, tried to ascend to my level but every single one of them has failed. Every single one of them wasn’t enough to take me down, and there isn’t a god damned thing you could do to even come close to achieving that goal. So I’ll prepare for our match at Metamorphosis Al Thani, I’ll prepare to reassume my mantle as the Blood God, and you? You’re big change, will simply be from a functioning human being…
To breathing through a respirator.
~~~
We open up on the house of Spike Kane, however it isn’t the house we are used to. It’s large, extravagant, and it has a huge pool on the roof! The only reason we know it’s Spike Kane’s house is because of the mail box, and the fact that it is IWF television; which means No Freya, No Christian, No Brad, No Jake...and we all know Warren is staying with Rob right now.
“I guess it does pay to have friends like Verona…”[/color]
The voice comes from inside the building, in the large ornate entrance way with a spiral staircase. There’s a landline phone sitting on a table, and as we pan around we see Spike Kane standing above it, having pressed the button on the voicemail. The voice it seems, was actually from his son Warren. With a quick sneer, Spike presses a button before heading off through the house.
“Message Deleted”
The camera follows Spike through the hall which is in fact, a trophy cabinet showcasing every accolade from Spike’s career. Glass cases holding championships from every federation he ever won one in, the centerpiece is a three tiered shelf, on the top is the IWF Imperial Championship, in the middle is the nCw Championship, and at the bottom is the XHF World Heavyweight Championship. Spike stops and looks at them for a second before smirking and walking past them all and down the corridor. He walks through a side room, which is set up as an entertainment room, there is a large screen with comfy sofas, some gaming chairs hooked up to Playstation 4’s and Xbox Ones, as well as a large pool table, and some old school arcade games
Spike Kane: Yeah it fucking pays. It pays to do your god damn job right. It pays to be a success and make something of yourself…..punk. Trying to make me feel bad for enjoying my career for once…
He isn’t talking to anyone but himself, but Warrens message obviously hit a nerve. He turns to the side and walks over towards the large screen, opening up one of the mini fridges between the sofas, and stepping over, slumping down into the seat as he does, with a fresh, cold, can of beer.
Spike Kane: I scrimped….I saved, I gave money to Tanya for Zell, I paid for his fucking funeral, paid for her to leave me alone. I paid for weddings….divorces….I pay money to River for Xander….I even paid for that little ungrateful pricks training…..and I spend money on myself, and this is what I get?
He takes a big swig of beer, almost downing the bottle before picking up the remote control and flicking on the large screen. He loads up his private Plex collection, with a ridiculous list of movies and tv shows that most people don’t have access to.
Spike Kane: Fuck ‘em…
He selects the show “Peaky Blinders” and the intro music begins to play as we fade on the imagine of Spike surrounded by his new toys and such, slowly finishing off his beer.
~~~
You’ve been such a pain in my ass that it is unreal Mo. How can someone so insignificant cause such a ruckus? How can such a peasant effect the affairs of those so far above them? You’ve done such a great job of getting into my head that I actually have to commend you. You pissed me off, you pushed me, and you didn’t do it through your typical western society bashing. You played the game like a true scholar, you gave me something that I can never get rid of…
A loss to Jack Gaither.
Now, I’m not claiming to be innocent here, no no no, not at all, anything but. I pushed you, I goaded you, I did everything I could to try and get you into that ring with me….and then you threw a curveball, you laid down a challenge to me after dodging me for weeks!? THe Dragons Den? Oh….it’s fucking on. You have the audacity to challenge me in MY match, in MY home? I don't think you quite know what you’ve let yourself in for Mohammed, I really don’t. I think you belong in the same class as people like Gaither, people who need a history lesson….those who need to see what, and who, came before them and the results of their actions.
I’ve made a career out of hurting people.
I’ve killed careers.
For twenty god damn years.
Now, some people might make snide comments about how it took me twenty years to get to where I am? But hey, I’ve never lost a world title to a woman either. Not that I’m being sexist, but let’s be real for a moment here, take IWF’s best….Jessica Reed and Ana Valentine. Do you really think they’d stand a chance with me in the ring? For all their outstanding wrestling ability, how many punches to the face do you think they can take from a man built like myself? Oh, I imagine there are exceptions….there always are, like you Mohammed, a squirrelly little coward like you? I can’t see a Diamond on the roster struggling against you…
Even Mercedes Vargas.
The thing is Mohammed, when we get into that ring at Metamorphosis? When that Den door cloeses? The end of your career begins. I am finally free to be the man I’ve always been inside. Nobody to care about, nobody to hold me back, nobody else to please. I don’t have to worry about my actions upsetting anybody, and truth be told? Do you really see anybody stepping in to help you? Anyone stepping in to save you from the absolute and utter beating you have coming your way? If you’ve been paying attention recently Mo, I almost killed Jack Gaither in that hardcore match, and that was over nothing, that was just because he’s a pain in my ass…
You?
You, I have legitimate reasons to beat to a bloody pulp.
I will have all of my toys available to use as I disect you, piece from piece, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Pretend if you like, that your body can handle as much pain as mine, pretend if you like, that you can wrestle anywhere near as good as I can. Hell, pretend, if you like, that you could stand with me for even five minutes in a brawl. You’re outgunned in every single way Mohammed, even the crowd will be cheering for me, they’ll be roaring with their sick approaval as I bathe the ring in your blood, and nobody will come to save you. Not your hired goons….and most certainly not the Al Thani family…
The family you disgraced.
The family you pushed.
The family who asked Verona to shut you up.
Oh, snap. There goes the dynamite. That’s right, you had your little open challenge set up, and all it took was a simple request from Roberto Verona, stand up for IWF, shut you up….as a personal favour. As a favour to Roberto Verona, and the ruling members of the Al Thani family.
It’s my fucking pleasure.
I’m going to get you in that Dragons Den, I’m going to make an example out of you, and I’m going to use your lifeless corpse to truly kick off this so-called “Year of the Blood God” Exactly ten years ago I was truly realised as a main eventer, as a legit competitor, and this year, I’m going to remind every single person in this company, on this roster, and watching at home….this is my year, and it begins by ending your career.
ALL
BLOODY
HAIL!
You’ve been such a pain in my ass that it is unreal Mo. How can someone so insignificant cause such a ruckus? How can such a peasant effect the affairs of those so far above them? You’ve done such a great job of getting into my head that I actually have to commend you. You pissed me off, you pushed me, and you didn’t do it through your typical western society bashing. You played the game like a true scholar, you gave me something that I can never get rid of…
A loss to Jack Gaither.
Now, I’m not claiming to be innocent here, no no no, not at all, anything but. I pushed you, I goaded you, I did everything I could to try and get you into that ring with me….and then you threw a curveball, you laid down a challenge to me after dodging me for weeks!? THe Dragons Den? Oh….it’s fucking on. You have the audacity to challenge me in MY match, in MY home? I don't think you quite know what you’ve let yourself in for Mohammed, I really don’t. I think you belong in the same class as people like Gaither, people who need a history lesson….those who need to see what, and who, came before them and the results of their actions.
I’ve made a career out of hurting people.
I’ve killed careers.
For twenty god damn years.
Now, some people might make snide comments about how it took me twenty years to get to where I am? But hey, I’ve never lost a world title to a woman either. Not that I’m being sexist, but let’s be real for a moment here, take IWF’s best….Jessica Reed and Ana Valentine. Do you really think they’d stand a chance with me in the ring? For all their outstanding wrestling ability, how many punches to the face do you think they can take from a man built like myself? Oh, I imagine there are exceptions….there always are, like you Mohammed, a squirrelly little coward like you? I can’t see a Diamond on the roster struggling against you…
Even Mercedes Vargas.
The thing is Mohammed, when we get into that ring at Metamorphosis? When that Den door cloeses? The end of your career begins. I am finally free to be the man I’ve always been inside. Nobody to care about, nobody to hold me back, nobody else to please. I don’t have to worry about my actions upsetting anybody, and truth be told? Do you really see anybody stepping in to help you? Anyone stepping in to save you from the absolute and utter beating you have coming your way? If you’ve been paying attention recently Mo, I almost killed Jack Gaither in that hardcore match, and that was over nothing, that was just because he’s a pain in my ass…
You?
You, I have legitimate reasons to beat to a bloody pulp.
I will have all of my toys available to use as I disect you, piece from piece, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Pretend if you like, that your body can handle as much pain as mine, pretend if you like, that you can wrestle anywhere near as good as I can. Hell, pretend, if you like, that you could stand with me for even five minutes in a brawl. You’re outgunned in every single way Mohammed, even the crowd will be cheering for me, they’ll be roaring with their sick approaval as I bathe the ring in your blood, and nobody will come to save you. Not your hired goons….and most certainly not the Al Thani family…
The family you disgraced.
The family you pushed.
The family who asked Verona to shut you up.
Oh, snap. There goes the dynamite. That’s right, you had your little open challenge set up, and all it took was a simple request from Roberto Verona, stand up for IWF, shut you up….as a personal favour. As a favour to Roberto Verona, and the ruling members of the Al Thani family.
It’s my fucking pleasure.
I’m going to get you in that Dragons Den, I’m going to make an example out of you, and I’m going to use your lifeless corpse to truly kick off this so-called “Year of the Blood God” Exactly ten years ago I was truly realised as a main eventer, as a legit competitor, and this year, I’m going to remind every single person in this company, on this roster, and watching at home….this is my year, and it begins by ending your career.
ALL
BLOODY
HAIL!
Well howdy there pardner.