Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2013 17:47:18 GMT -6
The list of casualties strewn across the battlefield grows with each week. Heroes emerge, while others fall victim to their own inferiority. Alliances are forged. Ranks are earned. Men and women take to the field, hoping their side is victorious. And in doing so, they fail to remember one key detail. There’s one ‘army’ in all of this that has a trump card. It’s about time the heavy hitter of the Mafia shows New Edge what he truly can do.
The landscape around us is changing. Speaking of, I wonder how Pugh’s face must be feeling about now? More importantly, how’s his ego feel? At Kamikaze he was seconds away from reaching out and grabbing that proverbial ‘brass ring’.. That is, before the Monster Knocked the back of his skull into his face. Hell, I almost didn’t grab the Xcore Championship. Ryan, in that amount of pain and helplessness, was almost enough to distract me from completing my objective. His actions at the previous Ignite makes his frustration painfully obvious. And I enjoy his suffering too much to let this end.. He and I aren’t through yet. Not until one of us is on our deathbed.
However, the long and short of it is, I now sit atop a mountain lined with barbed wire, flames, and the blood of my enemies. I’m just one more reason why the Styles Mafia reigns supreme. Why we are the lions among a herd of frightened sheep. Why, at anytime, we can prey on whoever, whenever, for whatever reason we deem necessary. Yet, despite all of this.. those to be slaughtered continue to rebel.
They come from all directions. Be it United, or Unstable, or the Sexy Bitchez. They want, nothing more, than to be the heroes of New Edge. The Men and Women who save the masses from the evil that resides here. Each group has it’s own motive. Some want to eliminate us as a threat. Others just want to walk with giants, because they have instilled this belief that they’re our equal.. and while that sounds like a real storybook ending..they again, fail to take something into account. Their backs aren’t against a wall, ours are.
Ever corner a rabid dog? Force it to defend itself? Your only option is to kill it before it kills you and to be quite frank here? How can they kill something that refuses to die? Pugh tried to snub out the Mafia’s chance of claiming another title belt, he came up short. Kronin tried to keep the Television Title safe from KOP, he couldn’t hack it. Blitz, the imbecile, tried to beat Jesse at his own game, he failed. Johnny and Hunter might have lost their tag titles, but look who took them? A goon named Kronin, along with Matt Slater.. a so called ‘hero’ that uses performance enhancing drugs to get the leg up on his opponents. Could he have beaten me, the Monster, without them? Or Domestik Disturbance for that matter? Don’t hold your breath, unless suffocation is on your bucket list..
The drums of war continue to pound in the distance, but unfortunately, I’m forced to withdraw from the front lines. Or am I? My upcoming match at the five year anniversary show might look like a standard singles match. Just a preview of two men who rose above the critics and immortalized their names in the hall of fame. Each showcasing what brought them to the dance, but to me? It’s so much more. Unlike the simpletons that surround me, who tunnel vision through their entire careers, I see this for what it really is. A golden opportunity to silence a man who could become a threat in the future. Shane Sparx... The same guy who likes remind every one why he’s great and not just another flash in the pan. It’s quite amusing.
He’s held Championships? So have I.. He’s beaten the best? Who says I haven’t? He’s made history? Why wouldn’t my name echo in eternity just as his does? Reckon that puts us at a stalemate then, doesn’t it? Hah, laughable, at best.
(Oh, laughable, kind of like you needing me to secure your little victory at Kamikaze, old friend?)
Perfect timing, as always. And if we’re talking about events worthy of laughter, Pugh taking a piss on you was quite the knee slapper, wasn’t it?
(You insolent whelp.. It was your fault for leaving me unattended so that disgusting, backwater hick could urinate on me!)
Who said I did that on accident?
(You..)
That’s right. This time, you were the one who got played like a harp from the darkest layer of hell. Unlike you, I know how Pugh operates. He goes for the jugular. He lost in Japan, he got mad about it, wanted revenge, so he resorts to childish shenanigans. That’s his game and I’m all too familiar with it. Besides, I figured it was time for you to be on the receiving end.
(So that’s the thanks I get? When will it register in that thick skulls of yours? Without me, you are..NOBODY.)
Clearly I’m somebody, otherwise how would I go blow for blow with Pugh? You should thankful I even defended your sorry ass. You might be able to control me at will, but the bottom line is, unless I move you...you won’t get moved!
(You’re telling me that my reach doesn’t extend beyond you? Your ignorance never fails to amaze me, Hazard.)
Cut the shit, what do you want this time?
(The same thing I’ve..)
Yeah yeah, you want to rule. And if I were a weaker man, you’d have no problem living out that fantasy. You want control? Fine, it’s yours..but ONLY when I NEED your fucking help. This isn’t up for debate and I’m pretty sure I told you that in Japan.
(So the Monster finally shows his teeth, does he? Not to reign on your parade here, but shouldn’t you be worried about your little friend, Spaz?)
What about him?
(You idiot...wake up and you’ll see.)
The Monster opened his eyes, scanning the area to find that he was riding shotgun in he and Spaz’s rental car. Though Detroit was a hop, skip, and a jump from Chicago, the two decided on a car to use at their leisure during the week of the event. And if the model being compact wasn’t bad enough, somehow or another, Spaz had convinced Hazard to let him drive to their destination; the headquarters of the Detroit River princess. The vessel had been built in Jennings Louisana in 1993 for use as a gambling boat.
Both men were clad in their usual attire. Hazard, wearing all black to coincide with his jet black locks. Of course, a sizable bandage now adorned his brow. Battle scars from his all nighter with Pugh at the past Ignite. Spaz, on the other hand, was wearing much less, as per usual. Rainbow colored mask that makes your eyes bleed. purple moon boots. Skimpy loin cloth, that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. The Xcore Title, much like it was recently, is on his waist.
They arrive at the parking lot of Hart Plaza as both men ease their way out of the tiny vehicle. Hazard looking somewhat irritated by the fact that the entire car moved when he got out. He scoffed at it as Spaz slid over the hood of their ride ala Dukes of Hazzard, but he didn’t time his landing properly and ended up face planting on the concrete.
Spaz quickly got to his feet, looking around in hopes that nobody saw him fail miserably. Spaz then turned to face Hazard, laughing nervously. “Uh.. Think anyone saw dat’ nose dive, brotha’?” He questioned, as the Monster rolled his eyes but didn’t respond otherwise. They walked around to the rear of the Plaza, where the harbor for the Princess was located. The two men approached the ticket box before Haz stopped and turned to face his semi naked manager.
“By the way, Spaz..what the hell are we doing here?” The big man said with a huff. Spaz reached behind his back, pulling out a crudely drawn map on a piece of paper that was stored in his..well, you know. He unfolded the paper, sweeping off the contents that were at one point in time in his rectal cavity, or another man’s..yeah.. Spaz turned it around and held it up for Hazard to view. The monster raised an eyebrow.
“Aren’t those X’s supposed to be red, and not brown?” He said while folding both arms over his massive chest. Spaz nodded, then folded rotated it around so he could now see it himself. He laughed upon seeing it. “Oh, dat’ ain’t an X, silly goose. Dat’s a dingleberry, hold up!” He announced, while brushing his ass grape off the paper.
Palm met face as the big man just kept his hand over his eyes, massaging each of his temples. Spaz, ignoring this, continued on. “See, I got this here’ treasure map from a fellah’ on the interwebz, yah’ dig? Now arr I need is a shover or a spade, we hoist teh’ anchor and set sair for all the booty!” Hazard lowered his hand, now glaring at his stupid manager. “Are you brain dead or something? We aren’t going to find any treasure on a damn river boat, let alone convince them to stop the boat so you can dig a whole on a damn Island!!” He took a couple steps forward, then turned his head slightly back. “And quit talking like a stereotypical Japanese man, you fool. They don’t all sound like that!”
Haz walked up to the kiosk and grabbed two tickets to ride on the boat. As they walked up the rampway leading onto the ship, handing the deck hand their tickets before officially boarding. Spaz continued to examine the contents of his map, and at several points, almost tripped over his own two feet from lack of focus on his whereabouts. “Aye’, Hazzy Cat. We gotta’ go inside. Follow meh’!!” He started to run for the double doors leading into the main level ballroom, but Hazard hoisted his arm up as Spaz collided with it and fell hard to the deck. He now loomed over Spaz, giving off the implication that he was enraged.
“A river boat? For your own well being, you better pray this isn’t a waste of my time!” After shouting at the top of his lungs, Hazard opened one of the two doors and made his way inside. There was a secondary set of doors just ahead, these a lot fancier than those before. He hesitated for a moment, then entered.
Taking no more than three steps into the interior of the ballroom, Hazard stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw agape in utter shock. All around him, there were homosexual men, from all walks of life. Gentle music playing throughout the room, setting the mood. He had walked into some sort of ‘Gay Pride’ convention and the Monster didn’t looked very enthusiastic. Spaz barged in behind him, nodding in approval at the sight they were beholding. Hazard growled, then snapped at Spaz. “The hell is this supposed to be, you imbecile!?” Spaz giggled, then pointed at the crowd, moving his finger from one end to the other. “Dude, didn’t I tell yah’? I like teh’ booty and there’s plenty of it here!! WOO!”
He rushed off to mingle, leaving Hazard there at the doorway by himself. The big man leaned up against a nearby wall, taking time to reflect on current events in New Edge. Most notably, his current match against Shane Sparx. What had been dubbed a Hall of Famer match. And while the stipulation or the notoriety didn’t really mean anything to Hazard, he was more concerned about keeping the battlefield of New Edge from getting cluttered.
“Shane Sparx, huh? He’s back again, I see.. and far more arrogant than ever before. Not without good reason, of course. When he’s mentioned as being one of the greatest in all of New Edge’s history, that’s a short list. His induction into the Hall of Fame proves it. And if status meant anything here, I could see how people would perceive Shane Sparx as my equal. But this just in.. status means shit here.”
“You fight your way into the spotlight, even if it’s just for a split second. You fight, tooth and nail, clawing your way to the top. It becomes a war of attrition. Those who endure the constant grind to stardom, they rise above the rest. They surpass all the men and women who got tired of fighting and gave up, or got carted out on wheelchairs. Sparx has showcased his ability to climb before, on multiple occasions. But here’s the thing..”
Hazard said, as a wicked grin formed on his face.
“What has he done lately, besides lose to Davey? Fact is, and I’ve always said this but, the ghosts of yesterday can’t rescue you from today. Meanwhile, I’ve been damn near unstoppable. If we’re going by that logic, which is how most people read into it, he doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. Ever since reuniting with my mask, the root of my evil, nobody can stand up to me. Not even if they share the halls of fame.”
Haz turned to the camera, biting his lip to the point where it bled. He released the pressure, letting the blood run freely down his chin with a smile.
“Shane..listen very carefully. Trust me when I say.. I’m going to end you before you can begin. Struggle all you’d like. Wave me off as a joke, or comic relief. Do whatever that heart of yours commands. Anything that can build false confidence. Believe, for one, solitary, second you’re going to bring the fight to me. But remember this well.. I didn’t need World title reigns or big matches to have my name etched into the books, Shane. The reason I’m there is solely because..I enjoy watching insects suffer the consequences of getting in a Monster’s way.. Prepare, Shane.. Just prepare..”
Just as Hazard had finished up his little shoot, Spaz came waltzing over and with company. None other than former Youngblood Champion, and the longest reigning Youngblood Champion in history, Tyler Knowles. Along with a couple extremely homosexuals. Twinks, are they’re called by most. They now stood in from of Hazard, as a collective. Tyler looked up at Hazard, then leaned his head in closer to Spaz. “Who’s the hunk with the beard, friend?” He asked, while Spaz laughed it off before retorting. “That’s Hazzy cat..he’s really grumpy but he makes a great sammich!”
The Monster, clearly being poked fun at, was growing impatience by the second. “Now’s not the time for your little meet and greet, Spaz. As soon as this ship goes back to the dock, we’re off to the hotel so I can iron out my plan.”
“Oh? But I.. But I.. “ He was cut off by Hazard. “End of discussion.” Spaz walked off with his new friends a wee bit on the twinky side, leaving Tyler and Hazard alone. Clearly annoyed that Hazard planned on ruining his fun aboard the Detroit princess. Knowles eyed the Monster a bit longer, before sipping his beverage. Which smelled of alcohol, but was pink in coloration. As he drank down a fair quantity, he removed his pinky finger from the glass. Usually a sign that someone is light in the loafers. Hazard shook his head for a moment, then started to walked away.
SMACK! “Where you going, sweet cheeks?” Tyler inquired, just after smacking Hazard in the backside. Hazard stopped, stroked his beard a few times, and then side kicked Tyler with such force that he crashed through the nearest window and fell all the way down into the water. spectators could be heard outside the ballroom, screaming “Man Overboard!”
Shrugging off his violent outburst, Hazard made his way through the room to the opposite end as a sudden jolt sent him flying into the wall and almost off his feet. People were screaming from all corners of the ship as Hazard quickly put two and two together. He ran down a flight of stairs and kicked in a door that read “Bridge”. Upon entering the control room, Hazard saw the twinks Spaz had befriended, off to the sidelines, cheering him on and in a rather discomforting tone. Spaz was steering the ship, which meant all kinds of trouble for all the passengers onboard.
“Spaz..” Spaz shooed Hazard away with one hand, while keeping the other on the wheel. “Shaddup, Hazzy Cat.. I told yah’, we ain’t goin’ anywhere but to da’ booty!!” Hazard went to bumrush Spaz, but it was too late. In one swift motion, the hardcore homosexual spun the wheel as hard as he could to the left, nearly causing the ship to capsize. He pointed out the windows in front. “LAND HO!!!!” Spaz pushed the lever forward, increasing the vessel’s speed as it crashed into the sandy beach of a nearby island, and eventually came to a stop. People were thrown every which direction from the concussion, even the men inside the Bridge. Including the Captain and his first mate, who had been tied up in the corner. Spaz turned to face a now borderline Incredible Hulk mode Hazard.
“Cordin’ to this map, the booty is on this island, Hazzy. Les’ go dig, ya dig?!” He rushed for the now doorless frame to exit the ship, but Hazard kicked him square in the face, knocking his manager out cold. Spaz’s twink pals charged the Monster next, but he grabbed each of them by the throat with one hand and drilled them into the hard floor with a double chokeslam. After taking a second to observe the carnage around him, Hazard walked over to Spaz’s lifeless body and grabbed the Xcore Title from his comrade. He draped it over his shoulder and started for the deck.
(You’re an idiot. Letting that little weirdo pull a fast one like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, Hazard.)
Why? Didn’t I do the same thing to you at Ignite?
(We’ll see who’s running the show at Ignite, pal.)
It certainly won’t be you..
(And why is that?)
Because you smell like piss and I refuse to wear you?
(Your refusal falls upon deaf ears, old friend.)
We’ll see, won’t we?
- Fade..
The landscape around us is changing. Speaking of, I wonder how Pugh’s face must be feeling about now? More importantly, how’s his ego feel? At Kamikaze he was seconds away from reaching out and grabbing that proverbial ‘brass ring’.. That is, before the Monster Knocked the back of his skull into his face. Hell, I almost didn’t grab the Xcore Championship. Ryan, in that amount of pain and helplessness, was almost enough to distract me from completing my objective. His actions at the previous Ignite makes his frustration painfully obvious. And I enjoy his suffering too much to let this end.. He and I aren’t through yet. Not until one of us is on our deathbed.
However, the long and short of it is, I now sit atop a mountain lined with barbed wire, flames, and the blood of my enemies. I’m just one more reason why the Styles Mafia reigns supreme. Why we are the lions among a herd of frightened sheep. Why, at anytime, we can prey on whoever, whenever, for whatever reason we deem necessary. Yet, despite all of this.. those to be slaughtered continue to rebel.
They come from all directions. Be it United, or Unstable, or the Sexy Bitchez. They want, nothing more, than to be the heroes of New Edge. The Men and Women who save the masses from the evil that resides here. Each group has it’s own motive. Some want to eliminate us as a threat. Others just want to walk with giants, because they have instilled this belief that they’re our equal.. and while that sounds like a real storybook ending..they again, fail to take something into account. Their backs aren’t against a wall, ours are.
Ever corner a rabid dog? Force it to defend itself? Your only option is to kill it before it kills you and to be quite frank here? How can they kill something that refuses to die? Pugh tried to snub out the Mafia’s chance of claiming another title belt, he came up short. Kronin tried to keep the Television Title safe from KOP, he couldn’t hack it. Blitz, the imbecile, tried to beat Jesse at his own game, he failed. Johnny and Hunter might have lost their tag titles, but look who took them? A goon named Kronin, along with Matt Slater.. a so called ‘hero’ that uses performance enhancing drugs to get the leg up on his opponents. Could he have beaten me, the Monster, without them? Or Domestik Disturbance for that matter? Don’t hold your breath, unless suffocation is on your bucket list..
The drums of war continue to pound in the distance, but unfortunately, I’m forced to withdraw from the front lines. Or am I? My upcoming match at the five year anniversary show might look like a standard singles match. Just a preview of two men who rose above the critics and immortalized their names in the hall of fame. Each showcasing what brought them to the dance, but to me? It’s so much more. Unlike the simpletons that surround me, who tunnel vision through their entire careers, I see this for what it really is. A golden opportunity to silence a man who could become a threat in the future. Shane Sparx... The same guy who likes remind every one why he’s great and not just another flash in the pan. It’s quite amusing.
He’s held Championships? So have I.. He’s beaten the best? Who says I haven’t? He’s made history? Why wouldn’t my name echo in eternity just as his does? Reckon that puts us at a stalemate then, doesn’t it? Hah, laughable, at best.
(Oh, laughable, kind of like you needing me to secure your little victory at Kamikaze, old friend?)
Perfect timing, as always. And if we’re talking about events worthy of laughter, Pugh taking a piss on you was quite the knee slapper, wasn’t it?
(You insolent whelp.. It was your fault for leaving me unattended so that disgusting, backwater hick could urinate on me!)
Who said I did that on accident?
(You..)
That’s right. This time, you were the one who got played like a harp from the darkest layer of hell. Unlike you, I know how Pugh operates. He goes for the jugular. He lost in Japan, he got mad about it, wanted revenge, so he resorts to childish shenanigans. That’s his game and I’m all too familiar with it. Besides, I figured it was time for you to be on the receiving end.
(So that’s the thanks I get? When will it register in that thick skulls of yours? Without me, you are..NOBODY.)
Clearly I’m somebody, otherwise how would I go blow for blow with Pugh? You should thankful I even defended your sorry ass. You might be able to control me at will, but the bottom line is, unless I move you...you won’t get moved!
(You’re telling me that my reach doesn’t extend beyond you? Your ignorance never fails to amaze me, Hazard.)
Cut the shit, what do you want this time?
(The same thing I’ve..)
Yeah yeah, you want to rule. And if I were a weaker man, you’d have no problem living out that fantasy. You want control? Fine, it’s yours..but ONLY when I NEED your fucking help. This isn’t up for debate and I’m pretty sure I told you that in Japan.
(So the Monster finally shows his teeth, does he? Not to reign on your parade here, but shouldn’t you be worried about your little friend, Spaz?)
What about him?
(You idiot...wake up and you’ll see.)
The Monster opened his eyes, scanning the area to find that he was riding shotgun in he and Spaz’s rental car. Though Detroit was a hop, skip, and a jump from Chicago, the two decided on a car to use at their leisure during the week of the event. And if the model being compact wasn’t bad enough, somehow or another, Spaz had convinced Hazard to let him drive to their destination; the headquarters of the Detroit River princess. The vessel had been built in Jennings Louisana in 1993 for use as a gambling boat.
Both men were clad in their usual attire. Hazard, wearing all black to coincide with his jet black locks. Of course, a sizable bandage now adorned his brow. Battle scars from his all nighter with Pugh at the past Ignite. Spaz, on the other hand, was wearing much less, as per usual. Rainbow colored mask that makes your eyes bleed. purple moon boots. Skimpy loin cloth, that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. The Xcore Title, much like it was recently, is on his waist.
They arrive at the parking lot of Hart Plaza as both men ease their way out of the tiny vehicle. Hazard looking somewhat irritated by the fact that the entire car moved when he got out. He scoffed at it as Spaz slid over the hood of their ride ala Dukes of Hazzard, but he didn’t time his landing properly and ended up face planting on the concrete.
Spaz quickly got to his feet, looking around in hopes that nobody saw him fail miserably. Spaz then turned to face Hazard, laughing nervously. “Uh.. Think anyone saw dat’ nose dive, brotha’?” He questioned, as the Monster rolled his eyes but didn’t respond otherwise. They walked around to the rear of the Plaza, where the harbor for the Princess was located. The two men approached the ticket box before Haz stopped and turned to face his semi naked manager.
“By the way, Spaz..what the hell are we doing here?” The big man said with a huff. Spaz reached behind his back, pulling out a crudely drawn map on a piece of paper that was stored in his..well, you know. He unfolded the paper, sweeping off the contents that were at one point in time in his rectal cavity, or another man’s..yeah.. Spaz turned it around and held it up for Hazard to view. The monster raised an eyebrow.
“Aren’t those X’s supposed to be red, and not brown?” He said while folding both arms over his massive chest. Spaz nodded, then folded rotated it around so he could now see it himself. He laughed upon seeing it. “Oh, dat’ ain’t an X, silly goose. Dat’s a dingleberry, hold up!” He announced, while brushing his ass grape off the paper.
Palm met face as the big man just kept his hand over his eyes, massaging each of his temples. Spaz, ignoring this, continued on. “See, I got this here’ treasure map from a fellah’ on the interwebz, yah’ dig? Now arr I need is a shover or a spade, we hoist teh’ anchor and set sair for all the booty!” Hazard lowered his hand, now glaring at his stupid manager. “Are you brain dead or something? We aren’t going to find any treasure on a damn river boat, let alone convince them to stop the boat so you can dig a whole on a damn Island!!” He took a couple steps forward, then turned his head slightly back. “And quit talking like a stereotypical Japanese man, you fool. They don’t all sound like that!”
Haz walked up to the kiosk and grabbed two tickets to ride on the boat. As they walked up the rampway leading onto the ship, handing the deck hand their tickets before officially boarding. Spaz continued to examine the contents of his map, and at several points, almost tripped over his own two feet from lack of focus on his whereabouts. “Aye’, Hazzy Cat. We gotta’ go inside. Follow meh’!!” He started to run for the double doors leading into the main level ballroom, but Hazard hoisted his arm up as Spaz collided with it and fell hard to the deck. He now loomed over Spaz, giving off the implication that he was enraged.
“A river boat? For your own well being, you better pray this isn’t a waste of my time!” After shouting at the top of his lungs, Hazard opened one of the two doors and made his way inside. There was a secondary set of doors just ahead, these a lot fancier than those before. He hesitated for a moment, then entered.
Taking no more than three steps into the interior of the ballroom, Hazard stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw agape in utter shock. All around him, there were homosexual men, from all walks of life. Gentle music playing throughout the room, setting the mood. He had walked into some sort of ‘Gay Pride’ convention and the Monster didn’t looked very enthusiastic. Spaz barged in behind him, nodding in approval at the sight they were beholding. Hazard growled, then snapped at Spaz. “The hell is this supposed to be, you imbecile!?” Spaz giggled, then pointed at the crowd, moving his finger from one end to the other. “Dude, didn’t I tell yah’? I like teh’ booty and there’s plenty of it here!! WOO!”
He rushed off to mingle, leaving Hazard there at the doorway by himself. The big man leaned up against a nearby wall, taking time to reflect on current events in New Edge. Most notably, his current match against Shane Sparx. What had been dubbed a Hall of Famer match. And while the stipulation or the notoriety didn’t really mean anything to Hazard, he was more concerned about keeping the battlefield of New Edge from getting cluttered.
“Shane Sparx, huh? He’s back again, I see.. and far more arrogant than ever before. Not without good reason, of course. When he’s mentioned as being one of the greatest in all of New Edge’s history, that’s a short list. His induction into the Hall of Fame proves it. And if status meant anything here, I could see how people would perceive Shane Sparx as my equal. But this just in.. status means shit here.”
“You fight your way into the spotlight, even if it’s just for a split second. You fight, tooth and nail, clawing your way to the top. It becomes a war of attrition. Those who endure the constant grind to stardom, they rise above the rest. They surpass all the men and women who got tired of fighting and gave up, or got carted out on wheelchairs. Sparx has showcased his ability to climb before, on multiple occasions. But here’s the thing..”
Hazard said, as a wicked grin formed on his face.
“What has he done lately, besides lose to Davey? Fact is, and I’ve always said this but, the ghosts of yesterday can’t rescue you from today. Meanwhile, I’ve been damn near unstoppable. If we’re going by that logic, which is how most people read into it, he doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. Ever since reuniting with my mask, the root of my evil, nobody can stand up to me. Not even if they share the halls of fame.”
Haz turned to the camera, biting his lip to the point where it bled. He released the pressure, letting the blood run freely down his chin with a smile.
“Shane..listen very carefully. Trust me when I say.. I’m going to end you before you can begin. Struggle all you’d like. Wave me off as a joke, or comic relief. Do whatever that heart of yours commands. Anything that can build false confidence. Believe, for one, solitary, second you’re going to bring the fight to me. But remember this well.. I didn’t need World title reigns or big matches to have my name etched into the books, Shane. The reason I’m there is solely because..I enjoy watching insects suffer the consequences of getting in a Monster’s way.. Prepare, Shane.. Just prepare..”
Just as Hazard had finished up his little shoot, Spaz came waltzing over and with company. None other than former Youngblood Champion, and the longest reigning Youngblood Champion in history, Tyler Knowles. Along with a couple extremely homosexuals. Twinks, are they’re called by most. They now stood in from of Hazard, as a collective. Tyler looked up at Hazard, then leaned his head in closer to Spaz. “Who’s the hunk with the beard, friend?” He asked, while Spaz laughed it off before retorting. “That’s Hazzy cat..he’s really grumpy but he makes a great sammich!”
The Monster, clearly being poked fun at, was growing impatience by the second. “Now’s not the time for your little meet and greet, Spaz. As soon as this ship goes back to the dock, we’re off to the hotel so I can iron out my plan.”
“Oh? But I.. But I.. “ He was cut off by Hazard. “End of discussion.” Spaz walked off with his new friends a wee bit on the twinky side, leaving Tyler and Hazard alone. Clearly annoyed that Hazard planned on ruining his fun aboard the Detroit princess. Knowles eyed the Monster a bit longer, before sipping his beverage. Which smelled of alcohol, but was pink in coloration. As he drank down a fair quantity, he removed his pinky finger from the glass. Usually a sign that someone is light in the loafers. Hazard shook his head for a moment, then started to walked away.
SMACK! “Where you going, sweet cheeks?” Tyler inquired, just after smacking Hazard in the backside. Hazard stopped, stroked his beard a few times, and then side kicked Tyler with such force that he crashed through the nearest window and fell all the way down into the water. spectators could be heard outside the ballroom, screaming “Man Overboard!”
Shrugging off his violent outburst, Hazard made his way through the room to the opposite end as a sudden jolt sent him flying into the wall and almost off his feet. People were screaming from all corners of the ship as Hazard quickly put two and two together. He ran down a flight of stairs and kicked in a door that read “Bridge”. Upon entering the control room, Hazard saw the twinks Spaz had befriended, off to the sidelines, cheering him on and in a rather discomforting tone. Spaz was steering the ship, which meant all kinds of trouble for all the passengers onboard.
“Spaz..” Spaz shooed Hazard away with one hand, while keeping the other on the wheel. “Shaddup, Hazzy Cat.. I told yah’, we ain’t goin’ anywhere but to da’ booty!!” Hazard went to bumrush Spaz, but it was too late. In one swift motion, the hardcore homosexual spun the wheel as hard as he could to the left, nearly causing the ship to capsize. He pointed out the windows in front. “LAND HO!!!!” Spaz pushed the lever forward, increasing the vessel’s speed as it crashed into the sandy beach of a nearby island, and eventually came to a stop. People were thrown every which direction from the concussion, even the men inside the Bridge. Including the Captain and his first mate, who had been tied up in the corner. Spaz turned to face a now borderline Incredible Hulk mode Hazard.
“Cordin’ to this map, the booty is on this island, Hazzy. Les’ go dig, ya dig?!” He rushed for the now doorless frame to exit the ship, but Hazard kicked him square in the face, knocking his manager out cold. Spaz’s twink pals charged the Monster next, but he grabbed each of them by the throat with one hand and drilled them into the hard floor with a double chokeslam. After taking a second to observe the carnage around him, Hazard walked over to Spaz’s lifeless body and grabbed the Xcore Title from his comrade. He draped it over his shoulder and started for the deck.
(You’re an idiot. Letting that little weirdo pull a fast one like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, Hazard.)
Why? Didn’t I do the same thing to you at Ignite?
(We’ll see who’s running the show at Ignite, pal.)
It certainly won’t be you..
(And why is that?)
Because you smell like piss and I refuse to wear you?
(Your refusal falls upon deaf ears, old friend.)
We’ll see, won’t we?
- Fade..