Post by Jesse Styles on Oct 28, 2013 19:46:24 GMT -6
Vindication of a Hung Jury
Jill Matthews: Good evening everyone and welcome to Ignite 172 from Baton Rouge, Louisiana! The good news is…we’re away from radiation…the bad news is…it’s still better than knowing that Johnny Stylez taints this wonderful city with his existence.
Vince Walters: Quit being such a sour puss about one of the Mafia members. Besides, we have too much to go over and too much coming up after one of the most violent series of matches I’ve ever seen in this promotion’s history.
The lights slowly dim and the tron’s just gone completely black. Soon enough, the starting chords of ‘Gehenna’ start playing through and the audience, which was rowdy coming in, immediately begins a loud show of disdain toward one of the battered combatants from that Electric Cell match. Finally coming into view from the gleam of the golden championship from the ramp is a lumbering and limping Seth Iser…the championship over his shoulder.
Vince Walters: YEAH! The man who came through in the clutches of situations…when it mattered most and god doesn’t that championship look really pretty on him?
Jill Matthews: Your new man crush aside…we see a man who has worked eight long years for the chance to hold a World Championship and now he has the most prestigious championship in the world…yet look at his face.
There’s a hint of disdain coming from Iser’s face as he starts lumbering down the ramp gingerly and slowly with all the wounds still very fresh on not only his face…but the swelling on his right hand from the stomps and a burn mark down his left hand from the electricity. He just glances at a fan draping a sign over the front row that merely reads ‘Iser 4 Disembodyment’ and he just swiftly snatches the sign with a quick reflex and rips it up in front of the fan.
Jill Matthews: Here we go.
Vince Walters: The new champion, despite the wounds, is already in a fighting mood even with all his wounds.
There is a number of passing seconds where Iser and a few of the fans are jawing back and forth and a couple of them end up throwing cups of liquid at the man but missing. This simple gesture is enough to get security involved and proceeding to escort the aggressive fans away from their seats and into time into the county jail while Iser just nonchalantly waves goodbye while straightening his suit. The rest of the audience, in response to this, begins a profane ‘Fuck you Iser’ chant that rattles through the Pete Maravich center.
Jill Matthews: Jesus…he hasn’t even said a word yet and already…the audience is infuriated.
Iser finally takes a couple of back pedals away from the situation, the chant still ringing loudly as he’s just staring through his battered and scarred face behind that pair of sunglasses as he slowly walks up the steps before turning and spitting at two other members of the crowd to continue to egg them on. He just slowly enters the ring with the championship before he takes Tom Davis’s microphone from him and the audience is still screaming for his head. He just straightens out the blue and white suit he has a little more so…with his hair all combed back and just glares at the camera.
Seth Iser: Do I have your attention now?
One question and the audience is burning with absolute disdain toward the new World Heavyweight Champion. Another round of ‘Fuck you Iser’ starts to go through and Iser just has that sinister smirk as the chant is still getting a little bit louder before once its out of their system it just dies down.
Jill Matthews: Can you hear anything?
Vince Walters: What?
Jill Matthews: It’s a miracle…I can no longer hear Walters at long last.
Seth Iser: Before all of you go hoarse yelling and screaming like a bunch of animals…tell the people that forgot to read what’s on the ticket that you can’t take a swing at me…not just because I’m a champion but because I’m a wrestler…that they’re never permitted to attend one of these shows again. They’re not worthy of seeing the wrestlers bust their ass in this very ring because of their selfish acts…and they aren’t worthy of seeing me after eight years…finally hold what is rightfully mine…and let’s be honest…that’s your fault for egging them on and getting them kicked out.
Iser just pauses that slightest little bit…swerving his head slightly to the left to avoid a battery that was thrown at his face. He just eyeballs the exact direction in where the projectile came from.
Seth Iser: You can throw that son of a bitch out too. He isn’t worthy of seeing any of this, either since he refuses to even abide by the damn ticket rules.
The camera catches the fan getting dragged out of his seat as Iser just stares a hole through the man who tried to drill him in the skull with that battery. We see him struggle for a little bit before succumbing to the numbers of security and the audience members are growing even more restless and angry. As soon as he starts going away…Iser just shakes his head.
Seth Iser: I know you Louisiana folk have a problem with sober speech since the law grants you sorry bunch of parents the right to drink the dreaded poison of alcohol with your kids…but even you have to see when it is somebody’s turn to talk…now are you people done yet because…I have a lot to get out of my system.
The audience lets out another roar of boos toward the man but once that slowly starts to fizzle down after a few seconds…its getting quiet and Iser finally lets out a smirk.
Seth Iser: Good. Now listen closely…this championship...in the hands of many people…they view it as a tool to get what they want out of this business. For them it’s fame…it’s fortune…and various riches that they love more than they ever loved this industry. For me…it is vindication…vindication that going through detox and near death was worth it. Vindication…that having my face look the way it does…was worth every single little blow. Hell…it makes the pain that I felt after the burns of electricity…the war hammer of my knee…all that is worth it too.
Iser just pauses slightly before he pulls down the collar of his shirt to show a second burn from the electricity as another scar of the war. The audience growls in disapproval though as Iser just shows off his championship a little bit more.
Seth Iser: Hell…it’s also like this microphone in many respects. For some people…it’s spreading falsehoods that even the toughest of men could never hope to back up. For me…the words you hear from me are a beacon of truth. It’s the truth you don’t want to hear…and the truth is…this championship is proof that I’ve said what I’ve been saying…and that is I am the best wrestler in the industry right now…and thanks to the championship I hold…there isn’t a being walking this earth that can tell me otherwise…and I can tell that this truth…disgusts every single one of you.
Iser just lets out a smirk as the audience just boos his demeanor. A cold crackle escapes as he leans over the top rope before he just slowly peels off the shades to reveal the stern, cold eyes that have become infamous with him over his entire career.
Seth Iser: For eight long years…I’ve seen you people enable so many people before they even won the championship to do cruel things and you turn a blind eye just because of your hero complex. For eight years…you kept screaming toward me…that I’ll never be the champion because I didn’t look, act, or wrestle like a champion should. For those same eight years…I’ve had to go through rehab with trainers telling me retirement is a greener grass…than the reward of this championship because of all the hell that other wrestlers and YOU people ended up putting me through my entire adult life.
Despite the pain it takes to move…the anger that is coursing through his being is almost working as a bizarre painkiller for him as he’s just trembling in rage.
Seth Iser: Now finally…I’m here to say fuck you. Fuck you for all those doubts. Fuck you for the pain, the torture, the drugs, the pills, and the alcohol and each and every single one of you should be ashamed for what YOU all have done to so many great champions and potential champions because of your own expectations. Every single one of you disgust me as a wrestler…but even more so as a parent for what you create in this society. How dare each and every one of you create a horrid environment for kids to live in just because of your own ego trips.
There is a loud, and almost poetic ‘DIE ISER DIE’ chant that goes through the rings after another round of booing from the crowd but all this does is cause Iser to shake his head coldly toward the chant. He just goes to cut it off right away.
Seth Iser: You prove my point. How dare parents and kids alike wish death on one without considering the consequences and effects on my own daughter…and you call yourself hospitable people…what a disgrace.
Just one more statement and the crowd is back to booing feverishly and loudly. Iser finally stops leaning over the ropes but he’s just staring coldly at the camera before he’s pointing at the crowd members.
Seth Iser: I didn’t win this championship for any of you. I won it for the company that brought me back when it needed it the most. I won it to vindicate my own personal rollarcoaster ride. Hell…most of all I did it for my daughter…and knowing she can smile that her dad’s a champion…but the people that boo this…just have to accept this as the truth. You can’t be the enablers anymore…you can’t be the lying scumbags of society anymore.
Iser just narrows his eyes coldly as while there’s a rumbling of boos…they aren’t interrupting his point this time.
Seth Iser: You can’t prop up your heroes to try to slay me anymore…because now I’m at the point where I can’t be slayed. It doesn’t matter if you try to get Roger out of his demons…convince Johnny to come after me…try to get my sister Vanessa to take this belt away from me…or even send the monster back after me. As good as each and every single one of them all are…they’ll fall to me when the chips are on the line…because I’ve worked every single moment of my adult life to reach this moment…and despite your best attempts…I succeeded in that goal. Now…you’re going to have to rip this championship…away from my cold, unmoving carcass because as long as I have THIS championship…there is nothing…anybody can do…to stop me.
The crowd is in an uproar as Iser remains still in the ring, absorbing their hatred for him. However, before he can get another word in, the lights in the arena suddenly dim. The Edge-a-tron flickers on, showcasing static. A hush is brought over the entire audience as the picture gradually becomes more visible. As soon as there’s that moment of static Iser’s head jolts toward the source of the sound knowing it has its full attention.
“I can’t stop you, Seth?”
The all too familiar of Hazard booms over the speakers as fans erupt into cheers. After asking the question, we now see him standing in an office of sorts, at an undisclosed location. His head lowered slightly, hiding his face from view. However, something is off. As the backdrop is focused in on, we see a lifeless body, suspended from the ceiling above. It sways, back and forth ominously. Although we can’t quite make out who has become the Monster’s latest victim, it is quite apparent that someone has been hung from the rafters. Audibly we can hear Iser mouth loud enough the words ‘Son of a bitch…’ in that low raspy tone of his off the microphone.
Hazard: Maybe a better question to ask is.. Do you truly believe you can stop...me?
That being said, Hazard perks up, revealing his stone cold gaze. Making direct eye contact with the new Heavyweight Champion for the first time since their epic battle at Vodka and Violence. The Monster gives off a growl before inhaling sharply.
Hazard: What you managed to do, Iser.. Was awaken a part of me that’s been in a deep slumber. Hibernating, if you will. All I’d like to know is… Do you think it was worth it?
Iser, looking infuriated in the ring.. attempts to lift the mic to his face to give a rebuttal, but he’s interrupted by Hazard.
Hazard: Before you reveal that forked tongue which hides behind your teeth, consider the gravity of my question.. Was pinning Cera to take my title from me..The culmination of an eight year journey.. Finally having a valid reason to point your finger in the face of millions and scream out “I told you so!”..Showing all of these fans how much of a spineless coward you really are! ...Was it worth it?
Seth remains stoic within the ring, yet also gives off the body language that he’s somewhat confused by the message Hazard is relaying. The seven footer smiles wickedly and jabs his thumb, motioning to the lifeless body which is dangling behind him.
Hazard: Maybe a visual will help answer the question for me…
The Monster stepped to the side, just enough so that Seth could see who had been hung. Iser’s initial reaction was one of complete shock..He dropped the mic, audibly muttering the words ‘Shit…not him’ before falling to his knees, staring at the corpse in disbelief. His Heavyweight Title on the canvas at his side.
Hazard: Do I have your attention now, Seth?
After barking out that question, Hazard lets out a small…but equally demonic laugh that escapes from his lips while Iser’s seething from anger now…the range of emotions too much for even him to control after what was just perpetrated.
Hazard: I hope you’re content with the decisions you’ve made, insect.. Because, as the former Heavyweight Champion.. I AM entitled to a rematch for the belt you NEVER pinned me to win. And I fully intend to cash in that rematch at our upcoming pay per view. Prepare yourself, Seth.. Because ‘HE’ sure as hell wasn’t ready.
The Monster begins to laugh, in a low..almost demonic tone, then disappears from view as the camera pans in on the body we have been watching sway throughout his entire shoot. After a couple more seconds of filming the terrifying sight, the feed reverts back to static. Finally, it clicks with Jill who the man that Hazard apparently murdered was.
Jill Matthews: Oh my God, Vince!
Vince Walters: I think I’m gonna be sick…
Jill Matthews: I can’t believe it! That was Noish! Seth Iser’s mentor!!
Vince Walters: No…that son of a---
Our view switches to Iser, who remains on his knees in the ring. Staring down at the Heavyweight Title, then up to the blank screen where the grim image of Noish’s limp body hanging was shown. There’s that moment of sadness…that he’s trying to mask…trying to hide but the conflict that’s coursing through him is etched all over his face. He glances back down at his Title once more, then back to the screen again shaking his head while still doing everything he can to hide the mental pain. It’s become as if he’s second guessing the choice he made…second guessing if this is the vindication…he so desired.