Post by Master of Destruction on Feb 21, 2006 14:56:18 GMT -5
It is the afternoon of the first of the revamped WFWF House Shows live from Albany New York. We see the fans packing into the arena for a show that they know they will not forget. We cut to a small dingy dressing room backstage. It has a worn out looking wardrobe stuck in the corner, like it does not belong there. The paint is cracking from the damp looking walls. Another aspect of the room, which seems un-natural, is the Armani suit, which we can see, has been hung up in the wardrobe. In the middle of the room WFWF superstar Master of Destruction is sitting on a blue steel-folding chair. He is ready for the ring, apart from his boots, which are still open. He is in the middle of lacing the right boot when he looks up and begins to speak, in a voice that suggests he has been rushed and is agitated.
“So Macabre, you want yet another match with me. I will give you one thing…you are determined…determined to get your ass kicked but determined none the less. But as much as determination is a quality that I can respect, stupidity is not. You see Macabre I don’t know how far your memory stretches back but we have been here before…twice in fact. Our first match Macabre was all the way back in June for the Code Red tour. It was a last man standing match if I remember correctly and it was a match that I won. Then lets skip ahead a few months to November when I beat you once again in a special bonfire match. Now the serious question that needs to be asked is why do you require another match with me…another match in which you will inevitably lose. I was thinking that maybe you enjoy losing. I don’t know why but maybe this is true. Never the less Macabre the match has been signed and the stage if you will is set. Macabre the record between you and I hardly make this match look good on paper. Luckily WFWF has a man like me, with the star power that I possess, which might just put the asses on seats. Macabre everybody knows who will win. Macabre I have proven on a continual basis that I have your number. I have you where I want you and tonight I will drop you.”
Master of Destruction pauses while he begins to tie the left boot up. He gets the lace stuck at one point in messes around with it for a second before finally getting it right. He shakes his head in annoyance and continues speaking in that agitated voice although now he begins to attempt to make it seem more calm and controlled.
“Macabre, I am not in the best mood. You see Macabre it is one of those situations where a day goes wrong. You ever had one of those days? I miss my flight and the only seats on the next flight were economy class. I had to sit for three hours listening to a stupid baby crying. I finally get off the flight and there is no limo waiting…I have to hire a car and drive to the arena myself. In addition to this shambles, they do not provide me with a good dressing room but instead I get this room here, which to me resembles the size of a bathroom. I think these people don’t understand who I am. I am a future hall of fame inductee. I am one of, if not the premier star in this company. I am up there with all of the WFWF’s greatest ever stars. If WFWF needs to sell tickets, my name tops the marquee. And yet, I get treated like a piece of trash, a second rate citizen. Damn it I call the shots around here and maybe, just maybe in the not to distant future WFWF fans and wrestlers alike will realise that they need me more than I need them. If I were to leave, if I were to walk out, this place would crumble; this place would cease trading so to speak because when it comes to this company…I am this company! I have been noticing a few problems developing. I have been noticing a few people beginning to speak out of turn, some people believing their own hype and thinking that they are better than they actually are. Macabre for example…I walk backstage and watch you Macabre on shows and all you seem to talk about is your National Championship. Now I agree that title is a great championship belt to hold but Macabre the wrestler makes the title…not the other way about. Let me let’s go down memory lane once again. The first championship I held in this company was the national championship in its original incarnation. I held that title for a mere four months and twenty days. The only reason I held it for that length of time was because I was too good for it and nobody could touch me. But the point is this Macabre; I defended that championship every week. I took on anyone who deserved a championship match, it didn’t matter who they were and what their style was and I won. Macabre you are nothing. You have nothing. On your record you can say that you were the national champion. You could even mention the length of time you have held the title for, as you seem to do all of the time. Macabre it doesn’t matter. You are not worth a damn to this company and tonight…I will prove that as I have proven time and time again. It seems like you have an obsession about defeating me but I would seriously try and get that out of your head. Because an obsession is unhealthy in normal terms…it is unhealthy psychologically but it is also unhealthy for you physically because Macabre each time you come back for more I will take another piece until there is nothing left. You have somehow convinced yourself that you are good enough to defeat me but the truth of the matter is you cannot beat me and you will never come close to beating me.”
Master of Destruction then stands up and begins to pace around the room, almost at a small jog although the size of the room doesn’t allow this to be done effectively. He loses his temper at this slightly and scowls before sitting down again. He starts speaking again.
“To conclude Macabre, tonight once more you attempt the impossible, you clutch at straws in trying to get what would surely be the biggest win of your career. But Macabre you need to get it into your head that the fans will not respect your efforts. The fans will become sick and tired of your pitiful attempts at defeating me and then you will truly have nothing. Macabre I am the master…you are beneath me. I am better on every level you could imagine. I am the best of the best and Macabre I don’t even know if you are up there with the best of the rest. You have another chance at stepping in the ring with me, a true superstar…most people would give everything they have for one chance…but you will have three. Good luck Macabre and I mean that with all sincerity…well ok I lied but seriously tonight you will need all the luck you can get just to be able to get out of the ring without looking like an idiot. Tonight I will leave you with the knowledge that you are nowhere near my level of competition. Get ready Macabre because tonight I will not just beat you…I will destroy you…But wait that might not be completely true because I might not completely destroy you…No I will not just beat you…I will humiliate you!”
MOD gets to his feet for a second time but this time he stretches once or twice before exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. As he does this the suit which was hanging up by the wardrobe falls down in a heap.
“So Macabre, you want yet another match with me. I will give you one thing…you are determined…determined to get your ass kicked but determined none the less. But as much as determination is a quality that I can respect, stupidity is not. You see Macabre I don’t know how far your memory stretches back but we have been here before…twice in fact. Our first match Macabre was all the way back in June for the Code Red tour. It was a last man standing match if I remember correctly and it was a match that I won. Then lets skip ahead a few months to November when I beat you once again in a special bonfire match. Now the serious question that needs to be asked is why do you require another match with me…another match in which you will inevitably lose. I was thinking that maybe you enjoy losing. I don’t know why but maybe this is true. Never the less Macabre the match has been signed and the stage if you will is set. Macabre the record between you and I hardly make this match look good on paper. Luckily WFWF has a man like me, with the star power that I possess, which might just put the asses on seats. Macabre everybody knows who will win. Macabre I have proven on a continual basis that I have your number. I have you where I want you and tonight I will drop you.”
Master of Destruction pauses while he begins to tie the left boot up. He gets the lace stuck at one point in messes around with it for a second before finally getting it right. He shakes his head in annoyance and continues speaking in that agitated voice although now he begins to attempt to make it seem more calm and controlled.
“Macabre, I am not in the best mood. You see Macabre it is one of those situations where a day goes wrong. You ever had one of those days? I miss my flight and the only seats on the next flight were economy class. I had to sit for three hours listening to a stupid baby crying. I finally get off the flight and there is no limo waiting…I have to hire a car and drive to the arena myself. In addition to this shambles, they do not provide me with a good dressing room but instead I get this room here, which to me resembles the size of a bathroom. I think these people don’t understand who I am. I am a future hall of fame inductee. I am one of, if not the premier star in this company. I am up there with all of the WFWF’s greatest ever stars. If WFWF needs to sell tickets, my name tops the marquee. And yet, I get treated like a piece of trash, a second rate citizen. Damn it I call the shots around here and maybe, just maybe in the not to distant future WFWF fans and wrestlers alike will realise that they need me more than I need them. If I were to leave, if I were to walk out, this place would crumble; this place would cease trading so to speak because when it comes to this company…I am this company! I have been noticing a few problems developing. I have been noticing a few people beginning to speak out of turn, some people believing their own hype and thinking that they are better than they actually are. Macabre for example…I walk backstage and watch you Macabre on shows and all you seem to talk about is your National Championship. Now I agree that title is a great championship belt to hold but Macabre the wrestler makes the title…not the other way about. Let me let’s go down memory lane once again. The first championship I held in this company was the national championship in its original incarnation. I held that title for a mere four months and twenty days. The only reason I held it for that length of time was because I was too good for it and nobody could touch me. But the point is this Macabre; I defended that championship every week. I took on anyone who deserved a championship match, it didn’t matter who they were and what their style was and I won. Macabre you are nothing. You have nothing. On your record you can say that you were the national champion. You could even mention the length of time you have held the title for, as you seem to do all of the time. Macabre it doesn’t matter. You are not worth a damn to this company and tonight…I will prove that as I have proven time and time again. It seems like you have an obsession about defeating me but I would seriously try and get that out of your head. Because an obsession is unhealthy in normal terms…it is unhealthy psychologically but it is also unhealthy for you physically because Macabre each time you come back for more I will take another piece until there is nothing left. You have somehow convinced yourself that you are good enough to defeat me but the truth of the matter is you cannot beat me and you will never come close to beating me.”
Master of Destruction then stands up and begins to pace around the room, almost at a small jog although the size of the room doesn’t allow this to be done effectively. He loses his temper at this slightly and scowls before sitting down again. He starts speaking again.
“To conclude Macabre, tonight once more you attempt the impossible, you clutch at straws in trying to get what would surely be the biggest win of your career. But Macabre you need to get it into your head that the fans will not respect your efforts. The fans will become sick and tired of your pitiful attempts at defeating me and then you will truly have nothing. Macabre I am the master…you are beneath me. I am better on every level you could imagine. I am the best of the best and Macabre I don’t even know if you are up there with the best of the rest. You have another chance at stepping in the ring with me, a true superstar…most people would give everything they have for one chance…but you will have three. Good luck Macabre and I mean that with all sincerity…well ok I lied but seriously tonight you will need all the luck you can get just to be able to get out of the ring without looking like an idiot. Tonight I will leave you with the knowledge that you are nowhere near my level of competition. Get ready Macabre because tonight I will not just beat you…I will destroy you…But wait that might not be completely true because I might not completely destroy you…No I will not just beat you…I will humiliate you!”
MOD gets to his feet for a second time but this time he stretches once or twice before exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. As he does this the suit which was hanging up by the wardrobe falls down in a heap.
