EAW | Season 11
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PostEAW Promoz!

Here you can write promos about shows, Elitist, Vixens, matches, or anything else in EAW. Please do not spam, or put pointless things that aren't promos and DO NOT CHALLENGE ANYONE and remember, THIS IS ALL FAKE AND STORYLINE so please do not take anything serious. Thank you.

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EAW Promoz! :: Comments

Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 4:09 pm by The Heart Break Boy
Unlike many legends and Hall of Famers of this company,  I have realized the day and age that EAW will have to use newer faces and names to continue it's prolonged legacy. I have no doubt about it because I was one of the few legends to try and help most of these newer faces to cross the borderline of success and carry the torch once guys like me eventually call it quits permanently. But as you look at our past history and stare into reality of this business, only a few newer guys are able to remain loyal and consistent. You wonder why you still see guys like Y2Impact, Brian Daniels or Devan Dubian careless about holding back their legacies for the next generation. I have finally come to my senses that no matter what you do for people, all of it doesn't really matter. We all hold our own foot inside the door and it takes a manly decision to take your desire and run with it. So I have no more sympathy for any new talent. They are the new wave and have opportunities to take upon themselves to step into the spotlight. Much like me, I have already made my decision. I'm here to win championships. I'm here to carry that spotlight until I'm officially passed away and gone. I'm considered the "Greatest Of All Times," for taking my own recognition and flossing with it. I no longer desire to become a pioneer for this business, I have already done that. Now I desire to expand on something that ended shortly. My era of dominance only lasted a year when I should have revolutionized more than just some silly group named Project E.G.O. or my reign of terror that everyone acknowledges back in 2011. But I guess that's one thing that you can say about me. I spend quality time with the reigns that I have held in this business. No one can take that away from me, not even Jacob Senn himself. What is a disgrace to call himself the rightful World Champion? Shouldn't everyone feel entitled to say such things, Jacob? I mean, if I were in your shoes and you were in my own, wouldn't you say the same? I'm a fearless competitor and never struck away from placing bold statements. Because I know that it will all come to life. My words are powerful and speaks volume to my future. It will happen to the point of redemption. It's my time again now and this won't end as the same fairy-tale story that you want to believe. Brian Daniels vs. The Heart Break Boy was a classic showcase, no doubt about it but now it's time to look passed that. Brian Daniels is doing his own thing and the Heart Break Boy is trying to finish what never started. Jacob, you're just the man that will become apart of the lost era. And for that, you should thank me. You should thank me for becoming apart of my legacy because whether you like it or not, your legacy is easy to look passed. No one in their rightful mind are placing your legacy on that big pedestal to call it "over-the-top." Don't get me wrong, you have beaten great legends and proven that you are Hall of Fame worthy. However, you have not proven to call for a unique display of legendary matches or feuds. You're just there are the sixth man of the year and will never understand how to fight through the real hard-knocks to create a valuable "Greatest of All Time," legacy. I'm only a man that speak truth of this matter. And the truth will reveal the rightful captain of that EAW World Heavyweight Championship.

Place no thoughts into this Jacob. I can say this all day, over and over again. I'm going to knock your teeth down your throat. It's not the time anymore to continue bickering back and forth about which HBB will show up. I'm already here and I have been shown what type of light that will approach you inside that ring. Your time is almost finished and the people have sought the finish of an excellent reign. But an even bigger part of the reign will override your reason to compete. Dynasty is about to come back into my arms as MY show. Throughout my years, I have always been known as a leader. No one can understand my ideas and work ethnic to the point that I don't need to win fifty reigns to become considered the greatest. My scrap-sheet of capabilities and talent alone breathes life into what the Golden Boy is really about. Questions then linger of why do I continue this line of work if I don't need a reign. It's simple, I need one more shot to prove that at any given time or moment, I can become the man that everyone wants to fear, that wants to beg the differ that the Heart Break Boy can't hold the candle anymore. I'm on my way and nothing will ever stop me from believing. Since 2015, all I wanted was a chance to be able and compete. In 2016, I just wanted to have the whole entire world believe that I can still compete at an higher caliber. In 2017, this is where the last straw is drawn. I'm going to become the clear cut face of this industry again. And you can all me what you want. "Old Yeller," or "Has Been." It all won't matter because this "Old Yeller," is about to teach you a thing or two. For one, to respect me for what I'm trying to accomplish. For two, have some humility whenever I'm aiming right at your head. Trust me, it should be a privilege to get your ass handed to you by the Heart Break Boy. Jacob, you are lines in-between burial and punishment. You can't kneel your way out of this one. You can't use my genitals as a breaking point to eliminate me anymore. All you have is your two fists, your two legs, and your small petite brain to be able to shut down your Golden Boy. There's no way in hell that I will allow anything to stop me. Like I've said, you can bring your little bride, Brody Sparks to the ring. You can bring Hitler's army, or an entire line of people that envies the Heart Break Boy. I'm going to kick through every single one of them just how I kicked through the doors of having an ACW loyalty become an EAW legend. 

Once again, I am a desperate man, willing to do desperate things. I can call it a hustle for a man that has nothing and about to lose it all but able to strive at his last minutes of final punishment to save his soul, his family and life itself. I am a desperate man. I will do desperate things. I will not fail once again, Senn. You can see it in my eyes, I have no energy to tolerate it anymore. This match may become an instant classic. Just like almost every match that I have becomes an instant classic. But only a handful has that classic match end in my favor. This shall be one of my very own turnarounds. You will be placed on board for the Heart of Doom. I'm going to to show EAW something much more expensive than it has ever seen before. I will be the flashing light that drives this company into newer depths. I will become the best champion that this world can't bare to hold onto. This is a once and a lifetime competitor and I choose to walk on water to get what I want. Jacob Senn, I must admit, you are a great talker and stand behind your words. I respect a man that can hold his own when the world is against him. I know that you feel underappreciated but how do you think that makes me feel? No one has ever acknowledged the Heart Break Boy for his contributions to this business. Where is my appreciation stands? For six years, all my hard work and sleepless nights have faded off. But this match right here will make noise. My boot is going to make noise. My name will make noise. Jacob Senn, you will make noise after you have fallen down into a cradle and realized that you have sacrificed it all, only to end up empty in the end. It will be a battle-cry for this situation. My heart sings to the altar to reunite with that EAW World Heavyweight Championship. Only a few more days, time will tell. I'm on my way again... I'm on my way... 

The Golden Boy is on his way.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 3:44 pm by Guest
Nico Borġ (KOE2)
American Gods

The idols of the nations are silver and gold,
The work of human hands.
They have mouths, but do not speak;
They have eyes, but do not see;
They have ears, but do not hear,
Nor is there any breath in their mouths.
Those who make them become like them,
And so do all who trust in them!

Psalm 135: 15-18

King of Elite approaches swiftly, and although our match will not be billed a main event, it is no less important. You see Gotch, this is more than just a test of strength or athleticism, and there is more on the line than a simple leather belt adorned with metal plates. It’s an ideological war were one’s resolve and sense of purpose will play a key part. Now some will say it's just sport, only mere ‘entertainment’ for that congregation which watches over us. But that is not strictly correct, is it? The interests of those watching with regards to this match are no less weighty than those of our own, of we who must carry this burden of enacting or dispelling those interests by our actions. Every person watching will be emotionally and spiritually invested in our match. That is, invested in a way that is no less real than our own conditions. No less costly to hold. This ring is an altar, and though the gods to which we worship may be disparate, we collectively continue to offer up our sacrifices through the same conduit. They may not pay the price in blood like we do. They will have no concern of broken bones and torn flesh like we. But they pay their just price. The currency is exchanged before anyone even steps through the gates of the Royal Arena, of course, for even in these progressive times, people will have their gods. Material Ones, albeit. Call it lady luck. Call it fortune. The dice of fate. Call it what you will. The avaricious cult of greed is alive and well though it hears not it’s own name. An old god, but with new money. The barely practising wager but a modest amount, seeking low risk easy profits from an expected retention. Others, the more zealously devout, perhaps put their own homes at stake. They lay down their own lives and that of their families on the promise of some underdog messiah. They logic away all attempts to reason, they’re sure the odds are short. And where reason fails, they always have faith. And the bookmakers, the prophets, laugh all the way to the bank.

That said, money isn’t the only thing I am talking about. For their sins people are willing to forfeit for assayal things far more valuable than mere silver.  Mainly time, I suppose,  but also hopes and dreams. The vast, whirling fantasies of the many played out on stage, experienced vicariously through the struggle between two men. Do you understand what you mean to them? That image which man has of himself. The trappings of civilisation. Implied behind your affected manner and the subtle glint of naivety in your eyes, a vision that man will rise up on his Babel of invention and culture. Transcending the abject nature he once knew. The man may yet stand with all the odds lined up against him. Yet, in their hearts this is why he must prevail, why he stands to gain it all. For if man is not bound by conditions nor circumstance, and if no will may hold him back but his own. Then he is alike unto God himself, and can attain salvation on his own terms, by his own works.

A foolish and prideful notion. Made in his image we may be, but we fall short of his glory. You fall short. Do you understand what it would mean if you actually walked out with everything? You wouldn’t gain much. A few days in the limelight before I get my rematch and win it back. Honestly, if it even happens it would be a miracle, but you should be glad. Being a champion isn’t about sitting back, cashing a paycheck and celebrating. Even when you have to wait three months for someone to prove half worthy enough to earn a shot. Holding this title is a vocation, a full time job. It takes so much from you that you start to lose a bit of yourself, you become a meme. Something always on everybody’s mind. Watched, scrutinised constantly. You try so hard to break the barriers holding you. You finally elevate yourself and begin to stand out...and that’s when you barely have your own identity any more. Instead, you become a victim, more bound to the whims and expectations of your malignant peers than ever.  You're a thousand aspects of what people want you to be. And everyone wants something different.

Let me advise you, Gotch. No effort in ritual or etiquette will ever endear you to everyone. And to casually accept the odious fallacies on which support of you if built, well that would make you as bad as they are. if you ever do make it, you better make sure that your reasons extend beyond doing so simply for it’s own sake. When temptation is fulfilled, it reveals itself for what it truly is. Destructive. Empty.  Those who worship breathless gold and silver will become like them. Inert. Lifeless. Contemptible. Like the man who won the lottery, just to let his fortune change him and tear apart his household. No, you are not yet ready. You are too easily seduced by the base urges of man made Gods. But fear not. You shall know shame and anguish. You shall be contented in their ashen presence.  I will break you down to ruins and rebuild you. Newly baptised in thy own blood, you shall be born anew,a bastion hardened against corruption. 

God Is Watching.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 3:36 pm by Carson Ramsay
Can you smell that? That's the scent of rubble and gold permeating the air; a herald of something big—king-sized, if you'll excuse the pun— as the latter inches closer by the second. God, I love it. Saturday night's King of Elite may be my first, however, now that I've gotten to take a stroll down the road leading up to it, I'm kind of gutted I didn't arrive here any sooner. Granted, I'm more gutted that I'm not in the running for the King's spot, but that one is pretty academic. After all, my name wasn't even considered for the qualifying matches. Instead, they chose to line up a selection of kids that people still confuse the names of and hasbeens that most people want to forget the names of, because why bother catapulting your hottest talent to the very forefront of your lines when brand pride is at stake, right?! I'm not too sure where or who to pin this fucked-up strategy on either. My first guess would be Lance Hart, but we all know that he's just a puppet dangling by the string in a much more intricate, corporate operation. Is it the fans' fault for gobbling down the same ol' stale bullshit without one flutter of the eyelashes? One thing is for sure, it's not the wrestlers. And when I say wrestlers, I'm automatically peeling off the crop of Elitists that reap benefit from Voltage's impending demise. I'm talking about the rare few like yours truly, who bust their asses every single day of the week to hone their craft and become the best at it. If anything, we're the ones preventing the ship from sinking. Although we're constantly cast aside and undermined, we still swallow down our pride and go out there to put on the finest show possible—why? Because we LOVE this fucking brand. We live and breathe Voltage, as cheesy as that sounds. It's been my home since my first time walking in the door, and I haven't left since. Against the plethora of the temptations and reasons that could have prompted a justifiable departure, I kept my foot down and stood my ground. It's called loyalty. Yeah, despite all the shit stains soiling my name, I still uphold that trait with a head raised up high. But you see, one downside to being loyal is how easy it is for others to use it against you. Take the management for instance. They knew I was a tad off my fucking rocker from the get-go, yet they were the first to lobby for me once I signed under the dotted line to officially become an EAW Elitist. I often wondered what their essential motives were at that point, and now I get it. They saw something in me that every fan, peer and other brands seemed to sleep on; I was a hound. Hungry, acrimonious and rough around the edges, but a hound nonetheless. They somehow succeeded in unearthing the qualities that I've always done my best to sweep under the rug, one of which was loyalty. Upon taming a hound, you earn his trust. When you earn his trust, you have his loyalty and that, right there, is a very dangerous sword to wield ESPECIALLY when it's forged by me. Unlimited freedom and control lie at the palm of your hand. It didn't matter how they utilize it, for good or bad, I wasn't going to budge either way. Unfortunately, the suits opted for the latter case and worse, abused the luxury until the shackles grew too tight for me to continue brandishing—so I broke free. Somewhat, anyway. They still maintain a level of control over me, whether I like it or not. The last say in my matches and short-term plans still goes to them, but here's the kicker; I have the freedom to go about them however I see fit. I'm allowed to run roughshod all over the place without a single peep heard from anyone about it. In a way, I dictate what they have the last say about. The hound is now the one tugging at the leash and trust me when I tell you, all the mistreatment will be paid back. Tenfold.

I'm going to make every soul in the office, or even in the stands, that ever doubted me regret it with every fiber of their being. How, you might ask? Well, I don't fancy going back to prison anytime soon, so that rules out the possibility of me punching my way through every executive and fan in sight. I'll just settle for the second best thing; unleash all of that pent-up frustration and rage on everyone's favorite hero, Mr. Nasir Moore! It's not like Nasir himself is holding out on me in terms of giving away valid incentive to cave his face in. The redundancy of his speeches alone gets my knuckles itching. I mean, we've been at this war of attrition for what, a couple of days now? Yet, each monologue of his is a slightly tweaked version of the last. I actually managed to create a game of sorts in between training sessions for our match, it's called: "Guess what comes out of Nasir's mouth next!"—name of the game remains subject to change. Whoever's hearing this is more than welcome to play along. It's fairly easy, once you get the hang of it. Just listen to Nas talk once and you're good to go. I sure have, plenty of times, albeit reluctantly. The more I do nowadays though, the more I want to zone out his voice forever. Worst thing about it? He's already well aware of this, yet continues doing it regardless. This man, who barely achieved anything of plausible magnitude as of late—other than paying off a few folks to cause a riot and beating an old, rusty shell of a once... good wrestler in Carlos Rosso—still has the audacity to proclaim himself THE man. THE guy who was destined to fit into this mold that's supposed to make him holier-than-though. Surprisingly, you're sort of right, Nas. You're put on this earth solely to fit molds. Never to shatter them and become your own person, oh no. You're content with walking in the footsteps of established legends, hoping it will lead you down a similar path. Yeah, you fit the mold alright; the mold of a goddamn Walter Mitty. You just can't seem to get it through your dense head, can you? YOU LIVE IN A FANTASY WORLD, NASIR! YOU BUILD YOUR GOALS AND ASPIRATIONS ON THE WOBBLY FOUNDATION OF DREAMS THAT WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF REALITY! WHY. DON'T. YOU. UNDERSTAND?! You think people really care about you or what you represent? You're nothing more than an image to them. A clothesline upon which they hang their wildest fantasies; like lacing up a pair of boots and duking it out inside the ring, or sleeping with the boss's missus (wink, wink). Now I realize how quick you are to take pride in that which is understandable, IF you were the only one of your kind. Newsflash: You're not. Plenty of "crowd reflections" have emerged onto the scene here in EAW, they come and go pretty frequently and hell, I believe there's quite the handful of them parading about the locker room right now. So you see, Nas, not only do you lead an aimless existence that is fueled by a multitude of aspirations and little effort to make any of them happen, you also view yourself a deity among sinners which speaks volumes about just how delusional a man can get. It's funny how you're thanking me for giving you a fight before the actual fight takes place, presuming nobody else before me was qualified to do the same. It just goes to show the level of competition that you were fed while I wasn't around and you weren't getting your ass handed to you in big-time matches. Of course, you had to point out the couple of losses that I was handed by guys like Drastik and Y2Impact to make your case seem a bit less horrible than it is, and I'm not gonna fault you for it. It's like I said before; you're desperate and any functioning pair of optics can catch whiff of that from a mile away. Still, I'm not going to let you drag my name through the mud without putting your ass in check about a few deets. The fact is, I lost to those two guys fair and square and I admit that. Additionally, I admitted earlier that I've seen better months than the last couple. Be that as it may, when will YOU admit that you've never seen any in your own right? After all, at least I was riding high for the majority of last year before hitting a couple of speed bumps whereas you never really took off, Nas. Like, at all. You were passed around like a rag doll between people, constantly failing to capitalize on the myriad of opportunities that came your way, before finally gaining some traction with that whole anti-GM thing. Anything memorable past that point? You know, other than being outshined by bonafide main event talent at every single turn. That's what I thought. And please, spare me the depression talk. Like I give two shits what you had to battle through emotionally in order to stay true to whatever morals you have. You're talking to someone who was raised by a single crackhead mother for less than a decade before learning to do it on his own while dabbling in the same habit on the street. You're right about one thing; I know EXACTLY what it feels like to be all alone in this world. You, on the other hand, don't. So do me a favor, and stop flaunting that front in hopes of garnering sympathy, because you're not getting any here. As far as I'm concerned, you're one of those posers that I referred to a couple of days ago who pretend to know what it's like to be pushed down the bottom and then having to claw their way back up, when in reality, they don't know jackshit. 

You hit the nail right on its head with one fact; you are, indeed, an idiot. For you to gloss over how stupid your plan of making it to the top as your "true self" and vow to always go through with it regardless, that defines idiocy. Why would you insist on donning this shtick of yours when you've been doing it for nine months, NINE FUCKING MONTHS, to no avail?! If it stood any chance in hell at succeeding, I think it would have happened at least once already. Consider it a shot in the dark though, 'cause what do I know? I'm just the guy whose stock apparently plummeted but is somehow scheduled to compete in a one-an-one match at one of the biggest free-per-views of the year. And then Nassy boy goes on to rip my logic. Rich, oh how rich! About as rich as him claiming that I turned my back on my beliefs to get ahead, like he knows EXACTLY what I believe in. Let's get one thing straight here, brother; I didn't turn my back on anything or anyone to move a couple of paces forth. I BELIEVE in one thing and one thing only; be the biggest dog in the yard by any means necessary. If it means stomping on smaller paws then that's a risk I'm willing to take. You can't convince me otherwise, nobody in this world can. Just as I can't convince you that you're digging your grave every time you open your mouth to speak. Don't think I haven't caught on your subtle dissing of Voltage in each one of your speeches, amigo. Not that I don't agree with it, but that's me. I'm entitled to being vocal about the shitty state this place is at without any care in the world for the repercussions that may ensue. Sadly, you can't say the same, Nas. You're constantly pushed to the edge of the unemployment line as it is, so rambling the way you do about those who pay your bills is not the wisest career move for you right now. Alas, that's just my two cents on the matter. I get it though. I get that you're trying to be edgy and live up to the rebellious legacy that your stillborn character Capitani left and I respect that, to a modest extent. As a matter of fact, I respect YOU. That's why, if you hadn't noticed by now, I tend to refrain from pushing the dagger in any deeper with each word that I speak in your name, in spite of the voices inside advocating the opposite. Out of respect, not for the delusional person that you've become, but for the talented performer that you've always been. You're far from the best in the world, unlike what you might fool yourself into believing, but you have always been on my to-fight list and come King of Elite, I get to check you off.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 3:12 pm by Ares Vendetta

Unfortunate what it is you see yourself as.

I suppose no one can blame you for believing what you’ve become is a monster. I brought you to the your absolute breaking point. I humiliated you in front of your adoring fans, your loving peers, and every single other soul that walks the Earth. I beat you within an inch of your life as though it was nothing, and rest assured, it was. You were no more of a task to me than any other man that’s come down this very same path, but you managed to be the one capable of standing up when I knocked you down. It’s a shame that you’ve let the satisfaction of that feeling poison that fragile mind of yours. You’ve only just tasted what it’s like to do harm to others for your own selfish desires. A lifetime spent doing what’s right wasted. Yet, you seem perfectly willing to go even further. You want my head on a silver platter oh-so badly, and yet you haven’t made a single move to just get rid of my very existence. You sat back and did nothing while I shattered a man’s hand before your very eyes. You’ve sat back and done nothing as I’ve allied myself with a man you and my father know quite well in a very violent way with Jaywalker.

All of this and more because of your own pride. Because you believe you’ve transcended on from the old Brian Daniels. You believe you’ve become something far more dangerous. I baptized you in your own blood, but you’ve twisted it in your mind to truly believe you have what it takes deep down inside yourself to destroy the man that made you what you are today. I don’t ask for gratitude from a mongrel like you. I know there’s none to be had. You’re no different from the rest of them. You most of all should be worshiping me for the opportunities I’ve given you. You should be thanking Ares Vendetta for giving someone as pathetic as you a spotlight one more time for a World’s Championship. For wasting my precious time on you that’s brought us all the way to this point. Most of all, you should be grateful for taking everything you ever believed in life and taking it all away. You lived your life clouded vision and only just now understand the benefits of taking measures that nobody else has the guts to.

That doesn’t make you a threat.

That makes you predictable.

You’ve reached deep down in your being to pull out this menacing persona of yours. Covered head to toe in black, carrying around a big barbed wire baseball bat. Beating the life out of anyone who stands in your way. Yet you seem to be under the impression this gives you the edge between the two of us. As though I know nothing about what desire. You know perfectly well everything I’m capable of, and yet, you now believe that one shattered arm makes you more dangerous? You haven’t the faintest clue what I’m willing to do to you, mongrel. I know how far you’re willing to go despite all of your threats. I know what kind of a man you are. When I beat you down like a dog in the middle of that very ring, I saw what kind of a man Brian Daniels is. I looked in your glazed over eyes and saw what you are.

You’re bound to those chains no matter how hard you struggle.

Nothing will please me more than to choke you to death with them.

You lived your greatest nightmare at Territorial Invasion, and it seems as though you truly learned nothing from our history, so I believe it’s time for you to repeat it. There in Denmark, you will live through it all once more. How fitting it is that we dance at King of Elite - the very show where my father won this so-called prestigious Tournament not once, but twice. More importantly, it’s a show where your little alliance came to a screeching halt. The entire World witnessed Brian Daniels sacrifice himself for his friend, Robbie V. I was there watching it with every other fool that very night. I watched you take the proverbial bullet for your best friend, and I watched you fall. I watched you suffer. The entire World witnessed the death of RoViper that night in the King’s court. Some things don’t change. As I said, you have clearly never learned from your own history, and come Saturday, I believe it’s time you repeated it. There you are, looking so proud with my shell of a man father at your side. There you are trying to fight alongside Robbie V once more. Trying so desperately to ignite a spark within that worthless mongrel despite the futility of it all.

Don’t you understand yet, Brian Daniels?

Your entire life, you have been your own worst enemy. Your entire life, you have been happily digging your own grave, and now you struggle and spit your venom at me because I’m the one who knocked you down into it. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you will fight to your very last breath. You will scratch, mongrel, and you will claw to keep your head above it all, but I will shower you with dirt until you’re sealed six feet under the Earth for good. Is this what you wanted? Is this all the purpose your life truly has to it? Being my father’s little sidekick? You disgust me. It repulses me to waste my time on someone as pathetic are you’ve shown yourself to be. Consider everything I do to you as punishment for all of this. Every second of agony, every moment of pain, every ounce of writhing - all of it will be for a good reason, I assure you of that. This, Brian Daniels, is true justice. You spent your first King of Extreme being no more than a martyr for my father, and you will spend your last King of Elite being a martyr for my father. You will drown in the mistakes of your past, and I will be the one holding your head underneath its murky waters until you can’t fight any longer. And when I finish with your carcass, what’s left? I’ll take my father and finally finish what I started at Territorial Invasion. Just before the light dies in your eyes, you will watch me rip him apart and make your entire advent as much of a waste as your entire miserable existence has been.

History will repeat itself, mongrel.

RoViper will die.


Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 3:07 pm by 『zakkii』
The scene opens still in Haruna's place in Kyoto. She is in her usual Hakama, a Kendo training outfit as she is kneeling in front of the shrine. She sticks her palms to each other while closing her eyes and praying.

Haruna Sakazaki: Kamisama, For more than five years, I've been stepping in the wrestling ring, proving the world that I am no longer that weak person that I used to be. I hated fighting and I didn't want to involve in any harsh contacts physically and verbally but I ended up still getting bullied. I learned something, I learned that I have to be at least getting stronger for myself and I just did that. I still believe that physical contacts will not solve anything but I learned that if someone strikes me, I have to strike back and even harder than their strike to make sure that they won't bother me again. And I did that one too. I even do more than just a self-defense for myself. And look at me now, I am a black belt in both Kendo and Aikido, carrying my dad's legacy. I am a well-known entertainer, carrying on my mom's blood in my veins and until this point, I've been holding so many championship belts and having my name in memorial accolades, following my brother's dreams. I become stronger that what I used to be, fulfilling my friends' wish. I am so grateful for what I am today. And today, I want to keep on getting stronger until the day I die. I want to stay strong, to make everyone around me happy and proud of me. I don't want to let them down. I want to show them, show everyone in the world that every single life lesson I get in my every moment worth something for my future. Kamisama, protect me.... give me strength to face my future days. This week, I am putting my life on the line to get something that I always dreamed. I know.... I know very well that I will be facing that day with my very best. I know I have your protection and I really thank you for that. Kamisama, Thank you for every kindness you give to me, to my parents, to my siblings, to my wife and to everyone around me. Thank you for everything!

Haruna gives one more salutation as she lights the incense and let it lit before she left the dojo. Outside the shrine, She sees Azumi already waiting for her.

Haruna Sakazaki: Aah, just the one I was looking for.

Azumi Goto: Huh? Me? Why do you wait for me, anyway?

Haruna Sakazaki: Come inside, I'll show you why.

Haruna goes back inside the temple while Azumi hesitantly follow. Haruna then stops in the middle of the temple as Azumi also stops her step.

Haruna Sakazaki: Hold this.....

Haruna goes to the corner and grabs two weapons leaning in there. One is a full-covered katana and the other is a baseball bat wrapped with a barbed wire. She gives the baseball bat to Azumi while Azumi looks confused about it.

Azumi Goto: Haruna, what the hell.... Is this..... a barbed-wire baseball bat. What do you want me to do with this?

Haruna Sakazaki: I want you to hit me with that thing, right to my head!

Azumi Goto: What? A-are you serious, Haruna? N-no..... I don't want to do it. I don't want to hurt you.

Haruna Sakazaki: Look at me! Do I look like I'm straight up joking right now? I am dead serious! Hit me with that bad and hurt me badly right now! I'd rather have you hurt me rather than someone else. Come on, Azumi! Do it! Do it for me!!

Azumi Goto: B-But..... What if I really make you injured? No, I want you to make it to Denm--


Haruna looks so furious to see Azumi feels hesitant to hit her with that baseball bat. She then grabs a marker from her pocket and draws an X mark on her forehead.

Haruna Sakazaki: Here, hit me in this X mark! You can do it!

Azumi Goto: B-but, Haruna..... I......

Haruna Sakazaki: HIYAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!

Haruna's patience is going low as she just charges up and hits Azumi's stomach with the cover of her katana, simply putting her down, leaving her coughing.

Azumi Goto: Ugh!!

Haruna Sakazaki: Is that enough? Is that painful enough to make you hit me with that bat? Get up! I know my Azumi Goto is not that weak!

Azumi Goto: *cough* Fine.... if you say so...... but don't ever blame me if you hurt and injured really bad.

Haruna helps Azumi to stand as the weirdly violent sparring starts over. Both of them charging up at each other as Azumi begins to strike. As usual, Haruna is playing defense as once again, none of Azumi's bat swing even hitting Haruna. Azumi swings so hard right to the X mark on Haruna's forehead, but she can block it with the katana cover.

Haruna Sakazaki: Hmph, as I anticipated. You never hit me well!

Instead of trying again, Azumi draws her usual devilish smirk to Haruna and blows a kiss to her.

Azumi Goto: I love you, Haruna!

Haruna Sakazaki: Uggghh......

Azumi successfully kicks Haruna's midsection, sending her across the sparring arena with Azumi's signature power of her kick. Haruna rolls to the back and shakes her head to regain her composure.

Haruna Sakazaki: Not bad, babe.... but that's not enough. You're not hitting my head yet. More!

Haruna slowly stands as Azumi using this opportunity to charges up and launch her counter attack.


Haruna successfully rolls aside and going behind Azumi then she goes taking both of Azumi's leg joint down, resulting in Azumi goes down on her knees. Haruna launches an assault to Azumi from behind but Azumi can successfully ducks, tackling Haruna's legs until she goes down. Once Haruna lays on the ground, Azumi takes another hard swing to Haruna's head but it misses as Haruna rolls a few rotations aside and take some space. Both Azumi and Haruna circling around the arena as they both charging up. While running, Haruna finally opens her katana cover and begins to slice up twice when Azumi approaches. Both Azumi and Haruna stops as Azumi's bat slices in half and Haruna rips Azumi's jacket and shirt, leaving a little scratch to Azumi's bottom of her armpit. Haruna then gets up from her knee and put the katana back to its cover as she approaches Azumi.

Haruna Sakazaki: I told you, I'm fine! My blade is so much stronger than you ever imagine but I can decide how bad I hurt my opponent with this. I already anticipate it.....

Haruna checks on Azumi's body and there's a bit of blood leaking from Azumi's side. Haruna then grabs the medicine kit and raises Azumi's shirt to recover her wound.

Azumi Goto: Oww..... it hurts, Babe!

Haruna Sakazaki: It's just a scratch, babe. I'm not going to hurt you like I will hurt Brody anyway.

Azumi Goto: I never expect to get this, though. Plus, you have a body protector with you.

Haruna Sakazaki: Babe, not even your baseball bat hitting my body protector. But anyway, let me heal your little owwie, okay?

Azumi Goto: Fine! Ugghhhh.....

Haruna covers Azumi's wound with a bandage then give it a little smooch as the two girls sharing laughter.

Focus, finesse, persistence, precise, those are so many aspects to creating an art. This is what I'm going to do in our match, Brody. You know nothing about art, I do and when our match happened, I'll show you what art really is. Go ahead, launch your most dangerous attacks on me. I'm not sure that all your attempts to attack me will ever gonna work. I am not only learning to attack my opponent but also to defend every moves you get to me. You're going to use your dildo to make me bleed, huh? It took you more than just a dildo to even hit me. Seriously, though? That dildo is not going to take you to a victory. I have many dangerous weapons to hurt you really, really bad. My blade is even sharper than you ever imagine but that's not something you should consider the most. My blade is not dangerous if it's not used by a right hand. My blade is indeed sharper but my hand is more dangerous to control that sword to do exactly what I want. Don't worry, I am not intended to slice your body in half..... at least for now. I know how severe the damage I will give you if I hand a right weapon in my hands. I have a perfect weapon to hurt you, and with that weapon, I will arrange your body into a masterpiece of my own, with that weapon as my canvas and your blood as a paint. The ring is going to be when I perform this masterpiece and showcase all of my work to everyone in the arena and everyone watching it at home. In the end, I will sculpt your body into the most beautiful piece of art produced with my own hand, performing with a beautiful process from the beginning to the end. You are not messing with an ordinary wrestler, an ordinary fighter. This right here is a beautiful artist who performed a great work of art to impress the viewer around me. There will be the only artist in that ring and that person is this lady over here, yours truly, Haruna Sakazaki. You, however. I would gladly make you an object, I will make yourself beautiful like you always wanted to. I see a lot of battle scars all around your body and you think that is beautiful. It will be such a pleasure to add more beautiful aspects in your body. Hey, you love collecting battle scars, I can paint you a huge scar all over your back, written in letter "H" and letter "S" in such an artistic way, as my signature that I successfully making this not-so-special body into a beautiful work of art. Hey, all artists always have their signatures written on their work, right? Yeah, I will do the same. And oh, if you are talking about blood, I don't care if you want to cheat and spill my bucket. I will keep doing it again, and again, and again. Hey, I even happy for you to spill your own blood. Two buckets are not enough, I guess. I don't even care about that will prevent me to win, I will still make a lot of scars as many as possible and make you regret to spill your own blood. The artist will never be done until their work is complete. With exquisite finesse and precise detail. Trust me, an ultraviolent match will never be this beautiful. And when this is over, you might be thinking you still look good carrying your belt even with a huge "H.S." Signature on your back, but that is only a prove that in one picture, I own that belt and I own you!

As people once said, "The pen is mightier than the sword"..... unfortunately, I'm good at using both of those. ZACKYpanda Out~!
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 10:31 am by Cailin Dillon

King of Elite #3
This isn’t me against the world. It was never set out to be me against the world. This is me against Aria Jaxon. I can make metaphors or go over fun talking points, but they go so far above you that you reach out and grasp them and start twisting them into something else. I don’t care that the fans absolutely adore everything you do or say. I don’t care that the majority of the people in this company can’t keep their hands off of their dicks when they think about you. I only find it ironic that I was probably barely considered as a Vixen of the Year candidate when I know full and well that I’m about to beat you to defend the Women’s World Championship. It makes no difference to me what people think about my motivations. No one out there cares about my dreams or my aspirations. I’m the only one that does. I treasure that for myself. I listen to people I still thought were friends tell me my 15 minutes of fame are up. Not you, but the point remains. In fact, you might be the only person in this company that believes I have an ounce of talent. It again makes no difference. Because I know what I’m capable of and I know what’s going to happen when we meet this weekend. I will never be one to sell myself or anyone else short. That’s part of what’s made me so god damn good. And you know that. One only needs to take a look back at Empress of Elite and see how I treated every single opponent, regardless of their status or time in this company, with the exact same laser fucking focus. And if anyone thinks that was anything special, look how that again came about and was turned up to another level when I fought Sheridan last month. Now I promise you that you’re about to feel this intensity cranked all the way up to fucking 11. There’s no chance in hell I’m walking into King of Elite with this title and walking out empty handed. These are the kind of moments I was made for. When it comes down to one-on-one matches with everything on the line, I’m the one that was bred to come out on top of these moments. And when I pin your shoulders to the mat at King of Elite, that is proven once again. I’ll stand with my title and that crowd will shower me with boos, but I don’t care. This match doesn’t have some extra significance because it’s a chance to beat you. It should be us. It has to be us. We are the best women in this company. We might not be the past, but we are the present and we will be the future and there’s nothing and no one that can change that. That’s why I know in my heart this isn’t the last time. This is the first time we fight over this title. We’re about to embark in a rivalry story that will be told well after we’re done. Just like the ones we hear about involving those that call them selves OGs, this is when we officially take over. But the first moment will be marked by my win, not by me losing everything.
You don’t think being a champion meant everything to me? You don’t think I’m well aware of how badly it would feel to lose it so quickly? Do you forget I stood by your side backstage after Pain for Pride? Imagine the emotions I went through after that event. I watched one of my friends happy and proud with yet another PFP moment under her belt as she stood there holding the title that I gave a name to. I lost a grueling fucking battle of 10 people to her. It came down to us. I had her beat. I lost. I fucked up. And then I watched you walk backstage feeling exactly how I did after I lost at Grand Rampage. It was a flashback. It was a reason to turn things around. I’ll admit I was in a rut from the end of April through that time in July. But I wasn’t willing to just fucking take it and swallow. I made the change myself. How many times have you watched them stack the odds against me, paint me as the underdog and only for me to come out on top? How many times have you watched them say I’m the clear favorite in a match and seen me prove that through utter dominance? Nothing changes with me at King of Elite. I’m still going to be the person that fights in this same way. I grew hungrier that you understand after Pain for Pride. It’s been a hunger that’s gone on and on for months. And even now, as a champion, it remains insatiable. I just can’t find what it takes to satisfy it. There are so many people in this company that would be satisfied with the participation ribbon they’d receive from being in this match. They would see it as a clear observation by someone from the top of the company that they’re doing well enough to deserve something. They would see it as a small confirmation in their status in this company. That will never be good enough for me or you. That’s why everyone knows this match will be so damn good. Someone said it best online earlier this week. Aria vs. Cailin: We all win. Yes, everyone who views us fighting in Denmark probably does take home some sort of lasting memory. Both of us will take a lasting memory, too. The winner will never forget this because of what it will take in order to win. I guarantee the loser will never forget because of how close they came to winning. Really, the title is more of a secondary prize to whoever manages to come out on top of this war. Much like your loss at Pain for Pride and your short time with the Vixen’s title sticks in your craw, this one will stick in left, right, up, down and sideways. This will be one that bothers you for a long time. That’s right baby girl, I said bother. And no one is ever bothered by a win, so I think you know where you fall in this match. Someday we’ll probably share bottles of wine and have a laugh over all of this. But this week we’re going to scratch and claw, punch and slap and spill our blood and tears over a simple piece of gold. But in the end, it’s still going to be my gold, even if it’s covered in your crimson.
I’m a little shocked you would bring your buildup to Triple Threat into this and what Eris said. You’re paraphrasing a delusional, bipolar sociopath. She was put on this planet to say crazy stuff and then smile as you wrapped your head around and tried to figure it out. Poor girl is off somewhere now dealing with that deep brand that Claudia put in her. But I hope she’s getting the help that she needs. I promise you some lame boyfriend jokes you’ve received will probably never compare to the very personal jokes that are made towards me on account of my sexuality. I’m not trying to place one over the other in importance, I’m really not. I’m just saying there’s probably a great deal more sting when they’re making dyke jokes. But they’ve never really crawled under my skin of affected me all that much. I’ve always powered through everything with a simple roll of the eyes or a good-hearted laugh. Even as the Heart Break Gal’s repeated approach was to play schoolyard bully, I was just above all that nonsense. All these people have always told me I don’t belong here or that this chance is my last chance, but in most case they couldn’t be further from the truth. Look at Cameron telling me before Empress of Elite that if I didn’t win the crown my career would be over. I knew I was winning that tournament before she said that, but how ridiculous does that sound? I’m fighting HBG over my Specialist’s title and she says after she beats me I’ll fade away and never be heard from again. I mean somewhere even Kora Kosgrove is reading this garbage and texting a whole promo out, “like LOL, OMG!” You’re hardly the only person that’s ever dealt with this bullshit. We both fought through so much to make it here. I just happened to be the last person to get an opportunity at the top prize. And I had to absolutely earn it in every single way. There were no chances handed to me. I know there were no chances “handed” to you either, but take a look at what I had to do just to get a match for the top title in our division. Not saying one of us is the chosen one over the other, but if I lose it would probably take me another fucking year to get a shot back at you. Hell, I won’t be shocked if you lose and we’re fighting over this title two months from now. That’s just the reality of the way things seem to go for me in this company. That has nothing to do with my motivations for this match, though. Fuck the past or the future, this is the present. I’m the champion right now. My time is right now. I’m not planning ahead for what I’m doing after this weekend. I’m defending this title like it’s my whole life and legacy, because it damn near is. If I don’t leave every single part of me in that ring in order to come out still holding on to that title, I’d be disappointed in myself. This is what I remade myself for. This is why I spent so much time in the gym working on my craft and recreating and improving the product I bring to that ring night in and night out. I’m not about to become the champion and let it slip because someone else has dreams and aspirations, too. If I don’t win this weekend, it better be because I wake up in a Denmark hospital coming out of a coma.
There was a time we weren’t given the chance to do anything. They put a door in front of us and placed a sign on it. Only a handful of women were allowed to enter it. There was a time when we were passed over for people who didn’t even deserve a shot. Random women thrown into title opportunities while seemingly doing nothing to find their way into that match. We weren’t content. We kicked the fucking door down and we took what we wanted. We did things along the way that were loved and hated, cheered and booed. We had success and failures. We made mistakes. We made up for them with triumphs. But nothing has changed is from who we are. Not really. Some want to believe I’m different now because they boo me. You see that I’m still the same determined person I’ve always been. You may think I elevated this title just by winning it the way I did, but who remembers Haruna Sakazaki for winning the Specialist’s title the way she did, really? I’m an architect. A mutual friend of ours might see herself as the leader of the “new age” of women that came into this company, but I’ve always been one that’s designing and building things from the ground up. I’m not stopping with the foundation though, Aria. I’m going to build this whole house. I’m going to meticulously design and build every single thing about it both inside and out and make sure that it has my grand stamp of approval on it before it ever goes out on the market and falls into someone else’s hand. This real estate ain’t for sell yet, darling. This title is just beginning to build its luster and prestige, and I WILL be the one that raises this title exactly where it needs to be. I know how into writing that chapter you are, but you might as well take all of those papers you’ve started to write and just toss them into the fire. My desire to win this match is going to overwhelm anything you have planned for this weekend. Our match will go down as one of the biggest women’s matches in this company’s history, no matter the outcome. But it will also be remembered for my victory. We will light Denmark on fire with our performance, Aria. There’s absolutely no doubt about that. And I will show the world once again why I make such a damn great champion.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 8:54 am by Jamie O'Hara
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

I fought for a crown. I wore it with pride. I was a king before this coming night.

And oh so heavy it weighed.

The idea that the king could not sleep due to the weight of responsibility; constantly worried that he does nothing but wake in a cold sweat night after night. I usurped the throne, I solidified my claims as the leader...the king of this new generation I was apart of. It was there the masses turned their attention to me; they sharpened their swords, they smiled and grinned at the realisation a young buck sat upon the throne. Inexperienced and surely weak, to take it from me seemed to be an easy feat. I was expected to reign with an iron fist. I was expected to show this world that this generation of talent consisted of names to be echoed for generations to come. To become a cornerstone of this business, forever standing the test of time seemed to be my destiny. That weighed heavy on my mind but my confidence, my bravado made it seem as if It would not weigh me down. When five stepped forth and tried to challenge me claim to the throne they left beaten, battered and bruised. The chamber became my castle; my will to survive such a contest showed within inescapable walls, they could only bow and beg for mercy at my might. Heavier the head became. Without those walls the reality set in. It was not an individual claim; it was a rebellion. In our grand world, it was likened to the efforts of an army walking to my throne and dragging me from the seat. But those details are lost on the minds of my challengers today. Those details become something I can only cling to in times where I question my true place in this kingdom; yet the world will remember only that I lost and another man took my throne. And because of that, the weight of expectations came crashing down upon me greater than I could have imagined. I pissed away the opportunities, both would say. Both would say that I wasted my time on that throne but neither will take note of the details that led to my removal. Both men will gloss over that night a year ago because it provides them the opportunity to lay the boot in; no matter how small that opportunity may be, it’s still there to expose. I could change the reason why I have yet to find my way back to the throne on a daily basis and each reason I provide will have examples behind it; well justified and hard to argue. This time I could fall to that weight of expectation and responsibility and wonder if I fear it? Perhaps I lost at Road to Redemption, not to gain some moral victory of a mental war I wage with myself but rather I fear wearing that crown once again? To obtain the World Heavyweight Championship, just like then, the masses will turn to me as I take the throne and again they will sharpen their swords, their daggers, their spears; drooling at the opportunity to unseat me. Who's to say another band of men with handshake deals, promises destined to remain empty won’t band together to remove me again? In another world Xavier Williams would have been the reassurance in that regard; TMDK would have grown to a force that served no greater purpose but to stop the history of King of Elite 2016 repeating itself. No, the crown will weigh heavier the second time around but it’s everything I’ve done since I first stepped foot on Dynasty that will reassure me that this time the ending will be different. Rebellions squashed before they have the chance to rise, what I was hailed has - over a year later - becoming a reality.

The King of Elite. The King of EAW.

The King of Dynasty.

The one to rule over the future of this business.

You pin such hopes that the last two years will be forgotten on obtaining that crown but that is nothing but foolish. Did you not do the same with the Cash In The Vault? Perhaps Lannister nor Lioncross pushed you to make such a bold statement yet no doubt that was at the forefront of your mind. This hope that the crown will be a key to greater success, the missing piece in your puzzle and perhaps this is hypocritical for me to say but if you need a material possession to fit the missing piece to the complex puzzle of Tiberius Jones being a World Champion, then only misery awaits you in the end. You will have that moment of glory, you will stand tall and that ecstasy the throne brings will taste grand. But it will be short lived as you’re forced from that throne; the missing piece is never something made from material. I don’t see it as such. I don’t see the crown as my key to climb back to the top, it’s no more than a consolation prize awaiting myself at the end of this personal war I wage and without it, it will not deter me from walking to the ring next Friday and slapping our World Champion - whoever it may be - around. I see beyond this Saturday, I see beyond King of Elite and I know what lies in my future. I see two routes leading to the same inevitable conclusion but I will not settle for something significantly lesser. But for you, the fog of doubt and uncertainty blinds your future; the allure of grandeur is all you have to guide you - through it for the crown gives you the light to guide yourself. Without it, you walk hollow plains with no guidance. You pin such hope on obtaining the crown; it’s too late to change that and boy, the joy I will feel crushing that hope into a thousand pieces, giving you no choice but wander blind as you seek forward growth in your career. But you will not find it. The roots of stagnation will creep upon you; there won’t be another opportunity to like this, like the briefcase to come your way. But you wish to stand tall and mighty, unmoved by my lowly buzzwords despite bringing the idea of hate and envy to the forefront of this discussion. I’m sure those buzzwords will hang around long after you lose this battle and I walk away with the crown; the hate and envy will grow. I’m sure in another two years we will find ourselves in this similar position and once again, I will throw these “meaningless” buzzwords around; and like now you will try to bury those truths with such brash confidence and bravado. It’s not until you claim that the pedestal that the doubt will fade, Tiberius. People will not grovel before you, there will not be lines in the streets of people begging and pleading for just a moment in your presence; it’s only when you take that crown and make your dreams a reality that they come in droves.

Regardless I will walk away from this contest a humbled man. Humbled by defeat, knowing there is more I must do, more I must strive to obtain; I do not limit my desire by the brand I occupy but the business as a whole. Knowing a better man walks this earth will only drive that desire to be a cornerstone more. Humbled by victory, I will see these few months, these actions I hang my head in shame privately over as justified. Once again I will walk the path I took to become the EAW Champion; yet the lessons I’ve learnt, the battles - physical and mental - I’ve defeated has created a better man and therefore, a greater champion. There is nothing personal towards you; I will not sour on defeat, I will kick kick and scream, I will not walk away and whatever it is that walks out king, I certainly wish for the best. I walk into this contest more humbled than my words my lead on; this is not the be all and end all of my quest for personal redemption.

Consider it a scenic route.

Last edited by Jamie O'Hara on January 26th 2017, 10:37 am; edited 1 time in total
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 8:25 am by Lars Grier

The camera opens up, filming a scene in..... darkness. Absolute darkness. If it weren't for the sound of a camera starting up, then most viewers would assume that the TV screen was blank. Almost little to nothing can be heard, just to faint sound of dripping water. This goes on for several seconds.

Then all of a sudden, a snap of fingers is heard. The light not previously seen before, is shown as the camera is focused on it. It then slowly zooms out, revealing the rest of the infamous "Black Box." Lars sits in a wooden rocking chair, swaying back and forth. His legs are crossed, leaning back. He then speaks.

"I've been thinking about you and our match, Ryan. It's the same thoughts you have about me. How I'm going to beat you. How interesting this road has been, Ryan Marx. This rocky, dangerous road filled with obstacles and battles. Battles of the mind, and spirit, and words. We've thrown insults, harmful words, and degrading claims at each other. To come to think, how this all started, just because I won a battle royale. Heh. We are different people, Ryan. Just like you said, not only in wrestling styles or in our rises. We have two VERY different moral values, personalities, and just about everything that has to do with the two of us. All these facts are what has made this war between us extremely intriguing. Fans of this promotion have been taking sides between us, Ryan. This war has gotten the attention of the blind EAW fans! Can you believe it? Those ignorant, idiotic fools filled with narrow-minded children and biased adults, actually follow this battle between us. They follow it like flies, like flies who read today's news and sway with the sea of information. Do you know what they are, Marx? They are sheep. Blind sheep who follow their corporation overlords like a moth attracted to a flame. They blindly tread on the heels of this company's "heroes", accepting them as icons who think they do the right thing. Heroes like Pizza Boy, Nobi, Mortimer Gotch. All of them are happy-go-lucky, carefree humans who think this world is a jolly old place filled with candy bars and ice cream! What stupid, stupid, stupid people they all are. They're so easy to see through. They're transparent, see-through, glass humans so brittle, that with a slight mention of their false identity, they fall apart. Their whole lives ruined, with a simple statement. Words are powerful, Ryan. They are as powerful as any biological, chemical, or military weapon. You're lucky that your words haven't been the end for you, yet, Ryan. You're REAL lucky. You're lucky that you've been able to survive this long in this battle of the mind against me. I know I'm pushing you to the boiling point, and you're pushing me to mine. At King of Elite, we reach our maximum temperature, and duel. I know that we'll fight until it's our last breath Ryan, you and me, no matter the pain we go through, or the shit we take. Hell, we might even outlast some of the main event "heroes" later on in the show. All I'm focused on? Beating YOU. You, and you only, stripping you of that New Breed Championship of your shoulder, and proclaim it as mine."

"I'm glad people like you and me don't have to be trapped within a bubble, pretending to act nice to everyone they see. We let our true selves out, and tell the truth. Wait a minute..... did I just say you told the truth? Scratch that off the board. I made a mistake, you NEVER tell the truth, Ryan. Ever since you met that wise, old man, ever since you heard him say that proverb, you've got it all wrong. Somewhere down your life, it went all to shit, and now it's turned into an amalgamation of what it once was. I'm not sure how many times I have to explain it to you, Marx. Your whole life has been a complete, and total LIE! Everything you've begun, everything you've started, has been a lie. Your cult, "Five Pillars?" It's a society built upon false hearings, witnesses, and untruths. Everyone who follows you is a FOOL! They are just like EAW fans. Aimless sheep who follow their dictating overlord as if he was a carrot attached to a string. They think you are the greatest human being to have ver existed in their lives, and as the founding father, you guide them like zombies without a conscience. You fill them with false truths in their minds, and they weakly perceive it as if it is Gospel. You don't teach them anything. If anything, you teach them to be like you. A foolish, fearful thief who has a twisted sense of living life, whatever life may be. I'm a false prophet? How amusing. You might be spreading a theory, Marx, but theories are only truths once they are confirmed, so as time still stands, you preach lies. I'm smearing dirt on your legacy? In that case, your legacy is like a garden, because what's the point of smearing dirt on something that's already filthy? Throughout your life, what exactly did you experience? What was this "pain" you felt at points in your existence? Did you get bullied at school? No. Were you ever scolded by your parents? Probably, but that's extremely minimal. Did you have to run and fend off for yourself, like me, scraping in trash bins for a single drop of water? HELL NO! You had a decent life, Ryan. Compared to me, you're living like a goddamn Wall Street journalist. You have it all, the intelligence, the skill, an office, while I have a shitty apartment in Las Vegas. But even then, it is all in vain. Ryan Marx, you have a lot of things, but what you don't have is a truth. Not a single truth flies out of your mouth, not even a truth about yourself. At King of Elite, your throne of lies and your invisible crown will be torn asunder, grinding beneath my heel. Your followers will scramble, with no goal set in their mind because they have been brainwashed with hypocrisy. And then finally, you will look on as I reign supreme, the New Breed Champion, on a pile of skulls."

Lars stops crossing his legs, and bends forward. His face can be seen clearly from the camera, stoic as ever. He breathes for a few moments, before looking up, as if he is calming himself down. He then looks back down, a serious and determined look coming over, and speaks.

"You know you could've let this all go, right? Let everything slip away, and make it easy for you. But no, no. You had to poke the bear, didn't you Ryan? You just kept on slamming me, and attacking me, and riddling me with insults and claims. That's never a good idea, Ryan. I thought you would know better, especially for a man of your intelligence. Now the bear is a mad, mad bear. He's gotten riled up because of you meddling with his mind, Marx. You know that? Heh! Maybe you are getting in my head. Is me feeling extreme hatred towards you "getting in my head?" Because I kind of feel like I want to bash your little skull in right now. But then again, I could always wait for King of Elite. It's a skill I have, anyways. I never told you fully about my life, did I? The full coverage of my life? Since it seems like there's nothing better to do, why don't we have some story-time? Sounds like fun, I know. But I'd rather not tell you. You'd exploit it like you exploit your followers. I wonder what pain they feel, Ryan. Being under your "school of learning" and your control. It must feel like hell, being controlled by you. Being a lackey to a maniacal man who loves to feel and dish out pain. We've both gone through two very different kinds of pain. Psychological, and physical. According to you, I've only felt physical pain, the pain I feel when I scratch myself after being grazed by a knife, or pain when I am beaten by larger men. The pain you feel? "Mental torture," and "mentally taxing." How laughable. What was this torture? How bad could it have really been? Did you just have a bad day and failed to do your homework? Was that "mental torture?" HAH! I can see that University must have been stressful for you, Ryan. Thinking about a career, your future, if you're going to get a high wage or not........oh wait. You're now a professional wrestler, a leader of a sadistic and blind cult, who follow their lying lord like a pack of wolves. What you went through in your life, Ryan? It's absolutely nothing, NOTHING compared to the hell I went through in Cincinnati. It's an utter joke how you think being paired with people "not on your level" is terrible. Questioning your motives and beliefs every time you wake up? If anything, it's an exercise. It's not torture, Ryan. It's a test to see if you truly believe in what your teachings and beliefs. You didn't have a troubled past. You went to University, got a degree, and had a pretty decent career. Life can be torture, Marx, but it depends on what kind of life you had that tells you if it's torture or an exercise. You don't know war. Maybe I don't know war. But who cares, right? At King of Elite, we'll BOTH go through war. A violent and bloody war, correct, but with only one victor. I think you already know the answer to that."

"A child. That's what people like me and your other opponents call you, right? I couldn't have come up with a better nickname myself. But even then, you say it doesn't affect you. Not even a tiny bit. It doesn't do as much damage as I'd like, huh? Well, I could not expect anything less from an ignorant human who's impervious to cold facts. It's honestly quite sad, Ryan. To see how a man of such potential, such intelligence, to be wasted on pursuing things that are beyond the scope of the human mind. But you don't perceive yourself as a human, do you? You think you're a god. A mighty god who can get into people's minds and figure out its inner workings. A mighty god who thinks that the future is within reach, that he can actually grasp it and hold it within his hands, and then mould it to shape what he wishes it to be. I'm sorry to burst your tiny bubble, but I'm going to tell you the same thing you said to me, Ryan. You're just a MAN. A man with a big brain, but no heart. You just want to watch the world burn, to mellow and wallow in it's pain, so it then looks in your eyes, to tell you that it's sorry for all the hardships it has given upon you. I'm not the example, Marx. I'm the SOLUTION. I'm the solute to problem that is you. I'm going to tear you apart, little by little, until that god armour you wear is nothing but a peasant's skin. Also, why fix something that isn't broken? Time and time again, my strategy has proven to be an effective hold on the things I wish to have. This strategy will show itself again, once we meet at King of Elite. It will appear in all of it's glory, and bask in it. It comes in the form of my victory over you, and my hands on that precious, and prestigious New Breed Championship."

Lars, his legs still crossed then puts his hands together, in a 'contemplating' manner. His face is shrouded in darkness in this state, and no facial expressions are seen. He speaks yet again.

"You don't get it, Ryan. Your retelling of the story of Dozsa was nothing more than just a foreshadow to the future. I'm going to make it clear what you just pointed out to me thanks to Dozsa. He was a fool who tried to lead a revolt against a gigantic and powerful government, with an army of fools like him. He then died a terrible death, with his followers mocked and laughed at as they ate the flesh of their leader. I see the parallels as well, Ryan. Why don't you learn from him? Like you, he tried poking a bear, then ended up being mauled. He tried to reach something he thought he could grasp, but he couldn't. Don't you see a pattern? Don't give me crap like how he led to the fall of the Turkish empire. If anything, he left a simple mark. It took ANOTHER kingdom, the Ottomans to actually finish of them. Don't you see how this goes? It's a omen, Ryan. An omen that says you can stop right now. You can stop the train of pain that arrives at your doorstep on Saturday. No? I guess it's too late then. I'm glad you don't fear death, Ryan. That means I can kill and destroy you as many times as I want for my personal pleasure. To add to that pleasure, I'll find the cult. I'll find each and every single one of the members and lay them out on the ground, their bones broken and their lungs crushed beneath my foot. You aren't immortal, Ryan. Immortality is a false concept, that insufficient weaklings use as a shield to hide their faults. Nothing lives forever. They will all be forgotten, buried beneath the soil and dust of the earth below us. Everything has an end, Marx. But I've already figured it out. I won't end you at King of Elite, Marx. You're right about that. What I will do is SHAME you. Shame you like Dozsa, the peasant who thought himself as a warrior. You will be mocked and laughed at by your peers who you hold so close to your heart. When you lose, your cultist following will crumble and fall, realising that the leader they oh so admired was just a failure, a man who fell from grace and is now grounded by hell's vines. Then when you do die and end, they'll go to you, eat your corpse, then spit your flesh on the grave. You're a shameful failure, Ryan. It's in your bones, your body, and your spirit. A lying fool who will eventually fall and be ravaged to pieces, not by a monster, but rather a man who had him all figured out. Me. My name will ring through your head, Ryan. For the rest of your miserable little life, you'll remember this Saturday in Copenhagen, Denmark. You'll remember it all. You'll remember the beating I gave you, the sound of my music, my name being announced. You'll remember your peers and followers, looking at you in disgust to see their leader, a man once so highly held, now falling and turned to dust. But most important of all, you'll remember me. My name.

The camera then begins to cut to static. It then quickly fades to a close-up of Lars' face. He is grinning sadistically, and he speaks his final word.


Everything then fades to black.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 8:23 am by Eclipse Diemos
John Wayne Gacy and Skynet

“It’s been so long since I thought to use this. A mask has a few uses. It’s designed to conceal above all else. But...what of its other uses? Such as its ability to amuse. Landerson wears one to honor the Luchador way of life...though I’m not sure he’s aware that it’s why he wears one. And then...there are the reasons of war. Masks used to intimidate. To show threat, to show power. All cultures used a version of the mask, even a helm could be considered a mask. Knights, Samurai, Ninja, even Vikings, would wear what is believed to be masks of war. And so...why do I have...this?”

The scene opens in a kitchen. The moonlight outside casting a strange glow in the room. Eclipse himself is seen leaning against the wall, his eyes cast out to gaze out the window. As he leaves the wall a new item can be seen held in his left hand. What looks to be a white mask, which as he draws closer, comes to be revealed as a white sheep mask. He rotates it before placing it down onto the table the mask side facing up. A few designs trace along it, similar to lines of code that race through it like cracks. A singular word can be seen written on the top of it, seemingly in blood. The word: Virus.

As he gazes down at the mask his eyes lift up, and he lets out a soft sigh. He perceives the normalcy of the room. It is for a fleeting moment however. The normalcy is cut short in almost seconds as he looks back to the man. Sitting in a chair just at the head of the table, is a woman. Or it at least seems that way. Her body is cloaked in shadow, apart from the jarring white sheep mask that she herself wears. A mask which reads: Mother.

“I have worn a mask only a few times in my short time here. A gas mask was my first choice, decorated as the epitome of fear in this era...at the time. A scarecrow. In homage to one Jonathan Crane of Batman origin. From there, I then wore a similar gas mask styled after the Joker to embrace my chaotic nature and anarchic tendencies when I was lost in the Iconomy.  I departed from those two and went on to wear a genuine Scarecrow mask itself for a few matches until I eventually settled on the one that I cherish the most. The sheep mask. See, I suppose that you wouldn’t find sheep terrifying. Do Machines dream of Electric Sheep? Get that reference, Impact? If not don’t worry. It’s not important. See...a sheep itself isn’t threatening in the slightest. Sheep are mindless creatures. They wander through life almost in a haze. Bleating out words with no real knowledge of what they mean. A sheep is ignorant. Blind to the world. Lost. And above all else...vulnerable. They follow paths guided by the shephard. But...a Sheep in our world can be very dangerous when it stops following the herd. A sheep that roams outside of the path that the shepherd has chosen, has two choices. Either succumb to the chase by the Shepherd and be slaughtered...or continue to roam free, and discover a whole new world. Often labeled as Black Sheep. Outcasts. The thing about outcasts is...when we roam, we tend to find our way to meet one another. And though we do butt heads, some of us join together. Form a new herd. A new calling and claim areas as our own, taking what we desire, knowing full well what we had been through.

The sheep masks I wear at times...the words that I place upon my brow. They all have meaning. And what I saw, matters. And I’m proud that you listen. I’m proud that you do hear my words and pick them apart, because that means something to me. See, when I was in Iconomy you didn’t listen. HBG did. HBG listened well. She hated me. She probably still does. See, I was at that time...lost. But I was the biggest threat that Iconomy had, though that may not be saying much. I took your monsters to their limit. I proved that I was stronger than both of your monsters. I had to be removed from the equation for you all to triumph over me. And HBG knew. She targeted me specifically because I was a threat. You? You targeted JJ. You’re a born predator, you don’t try to take down the strongest wolf in the pack, you go for the weak one. The one who has a weak leg. A broken shoulder. And you do away with them without mercy. Without a thought. I saw glimpses of the machine back then. And I wanted to fight. I wanted to kill. To tear with my teeth, and to pull apart with my hands.

You took what I said about the weak joints and you are correct, the joints of a machine are much more difficult to break than the joints of a man. Yet for all the bluster that is shown of you, the same can be said for me. I’ve never tapped out. I’ve never been submitted. I refuse to give up in a match to a move like a submission hold. And you know that. You know that in the end, you will have to make me pass out as you did to Nasir for me to lose to you by that submission hold. And me? I don’t know a submission hold in my arsenal that can make you tap out. So, why should I use them? Why should I use something that I feel will make me lose to you? I know what has worked before, and that it might fail me if I’m not careful. Room 13, a simple big boot. Easily dodged. Easily countered. Painful if you don’t dodge it. What about the Glasgow Smile? Discus Clothesline. Similar to my Room 13. If you dodge it, you can counter it. If I hit you with it...who knows? If pinned as many people as have kicked out from it. What about Mother’s Prayer? The curious thing about Mother’s Prayer is that...I’ve hit it on few people. And the people I have hit it on...they don’t wake up. And I have yet to hit it on you Impact. But, what of your maneuvers? I’ve felt one first hand, numerous times. A move that you’ve hit on me enough that I still remember what your knees taste like The Evisceration. Your go to finisher. You have ended reigns with that maneuver. Yet, for all of it’s power...on Voltage you discovered something about that move. You learned that I can counter it. And that when I do, what then? What about the Walls of Impact? That I have more trouble with. You’ve never put me in the Walls of Impact. That’s a finishing maneuver, a submission maneuver, that I have yet to experience. And finally, Flashpoint. Double Underhook Gourdbuster. We’ve played the power game Impact...I’ve won it before, and I can win it again. Even with my arms behind my back I can still lift you, so you must be cautious.

We are the alpha predators of our jungles, Impact. You, a seasoned hunter who knows his way around the kill. Me, the new predator that has zeroed in on the kill. In our beautiful dance of death we have clashed teeth and claw against one another, scarring each other and leaving with further reminders of how we fight. Of how we live. Of how we can die. We aim for the throat now, much quicker than we used to. We don’t try to be flashy, try to dance around the victim, we simply want to engage and kill...because the challenge that awaits us is for the territory that the other possesses. I, the Outcast, want to tear away the facade of the machine. To do that, I need to take from him everything he has. His pride. His title. And his courage. Impact, the extremist, seeks to destroy all that I am. He will take from me my pride, my courage, and my dreams. In any other sense, if we were on the same page, imagine what Voltage would look like? A world of sheer terror and control. None could stand against what we could do. But...I will never work for someone who trades their emotions in for calculations, who replaces his dreams with code and his fears with data.

I feel like I’m repeating myself. Bad form for me. Let me remark on something else Impact. The fact that what I feel more than anything else when I face you is not the fear. The fear is second nature, it lurks in the back of my mind and waits. It waits and it whispers. But that isn’t what is making me say these words to you. What’s making me say them...is joy. See, I may be a bit masochistic. I love fighting you. The more we strike, the more I learn, and the more that I feel alive. You're Not some mindless fool that just seeks to prove himself at my expense, and you aren’t used as a message in my own world, you are Y2Impact, the last Extremist and the only one on Voltage that I consider to be a true challenge and rival against me. And I can beat you down until you are bloody, and you’ll stand right back to do the same to me. We’ve done it before. This dance of ours. A waltz with the devil. And here I am, ready to face off against you with that gold around your waist waiting for me. You say you don’t feel fear for this match. That you are confident. Overconfident perhaps. Perhaps not.

I’ve given you no reason to not believe you will win. That being said...you won’t beat me. Because for all the talk, for all the disdain, and for all the heartache, in the end it comes down to what happens in the ring. And our words are meant to soak into the other’s head. We want to make them talk themselves into being weaker. Fear. A weapon the two of us are professionals at, but in very different ways. You crafted it through years of being a master of the ring. A technical superstar, a mic worker, a ring technician, and an opportunistic hunter. I learned through years in the Asylum. I learned by studying what genuine killers did, what they used to get into the heads of their prey. What was it that made them so successful, so dangerous, that they were thrown away into the darkness, to never be seen? I took that and made it my own. I took a personality trait, and I turned it into a weapon. And then I learned how to fight. I learned how to throw punches, grapple, kick, but I didn’t learn from professionals. I trained myself first. I taught myself, and when I got into the ring...instincts kicked in. I have since adopted moves and mannerisms. We are just as alike as we are different, Impact. Cut from the same cloth. Sheep from different prairies. And when we fight...it fills me with so much joy. The feeling washing over me...it’s addicting truly. The pain I feel, and the pain I inflict, it makes those years I spent in hell worth it. It makes every instance that I’ve spent struggling to maintain who I am despite people trying to change me worth it. Because facing you...I feel alive.

I am alive due to fighting you. And this draws me to the last question. If I win...what do I do from there? What happens when the title comes to me? You claim that I’ll lose myself. That I will forget my crushing losses to Eden, my failures of the past, because the title is all I am. Is that what happened to you, Impact? Is it what became of you? Do you not remember who you really are, now that you are champion? What happens when you look in the mirror, Impact? Do you often forget who you are looking at? The fraying of your mind, as it tries to piece together what the reflection is. You see gold. Is this why you hate me, truly? Is this why my existence is what causes you disdain? Because you know what you are, who you are. And you will deny it every day of your life, because that is the source of your fear. Your anguish. If you looked at yourself, truly gazed at your reflection...you see me, don’t you? Hate me, Impact. Fear me, Impact. Survive me, Impact. The Machine will die at King of Elite, and the Outcast will rise to take his place, but I won’t be like you. I will never be like you. I will never forsake myself. I will always be Eclipse Diemos. I will, forever be, Fear Incarnate. Patriarch. Brother. Husband. Father. Outcast King. So, Machine, what say you? Will you accept your fear and face me as the man that is Y2Impact, or bury it further inside of yourself, letting your reflection drown in gold as you fight me as the emotionless Machine? I suppose, one way or the other we will find out, won’t we? Down. With the Machine.”

He reached down, firmly grasping at the sheep mask on the table and slowly pulling it on. As the mask slipped gently over his face, his breath coming out in a soft sigh. The woman at the table lifted her hands up. Her fingers toying with the sheep mask before it slid away from her face. Black lipstick grinning as she gazed at Eclipse, her tongue running along her teeth. Black tendril like hands seemed to grasp from the wall, sliding along her body first, seductively, before skittering along the table towards her. They reached out, taking hold of Eclipse’s arms as the air took on a mist like form. The mist fading the image away until all was black, leaving with it a chilling final image of the woman, staring forward, the sinister grin on her face. A pool of blood forming in the center of her chest as she raised a finger, silencing the camera.

Awake, Alive.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 8:05 am by Nasir Escobar
Carson. Carson. Carson. You just don’t get it do you? I am Nasir Moore, and you should know me well enough by now to know these few things. I love to ramble, that’s my signature style when speaking to others and breaking down the different scenarios and situations that I end up in. I am a hero to these people not because I wanted to be viewed as such purely for the honor and the glory and the admiration, but because these fans need someone to be able to look up to in hope can clean up this mess that is Sunday Night Voltage, and whether I like it or not, I am the only man fit for that job. I’ve had to grow and adapt into this mold that I now fit perfectly into. It’s been a bumpy road. I never once said it was easy. I never once said it would become easy in the future. And quite frankly I don’t want it that way. I am just thankful that unlike the last has been that went one on one with me on free per view, you’re actually giving me a fight. I’m a bit honored by that in fact, because it seems ever since your seemingly endless rivalry with Kenny Drake ended, all you’ve done was be a hit or miss performer at best! Since Shock Value you’ve had both Drastik AND Impact in singles competition and you blew both opportunities! So yeah, I am appreciative that you’re putting in some time and effort to make this one challenging and enjoyable for me. As everyone knows, I love a good fight. It gets me riled up. Makes the blood in my veins flow a bit faster. And you are right about one thing that ties into this Ramsay. I’ve never had it easy in life. Not just through my career, but in my life period, it’s been a struggle to survive let alone thrive. I’ve suffered through loneliness and depression. Carson I believe you too know what it’s like to feel all alone in this world. Understood by none, and hated by all. My pain and suffering from being alone. I had one of two options. Either show the same hatred back to those all who showed it to me, or rise up and become a man far greater than any of them ever anticipated I would or could. To make all of my doubters acknowledge my ability and turn them into Nasir Moore believers...even if it is just one at a time. And something else you pointed out Carson. You’re right, I realize I’m damn good in the ring, but to call myself the best today is farfetched. Now there’s no true way to prove whether I am the absolute best on the planet or not. I couldn’t face every man in this company to prove it, let alone those outside of the reach of the land of the elites. But one thing that I do know is if I don’t have the confidence to believe in myself that I am the best, then not a single goddamn person will either. That’s essentially the reasoning behind calling myself that Carson. If I don’t believe in me then who else will? And then you bring up our time spent together outside of the ring. We shared literally no camera time together as allies before this all took place, but here we are now. Finally about to enter the ring together at one of the biggest Free Per Views of the year no less. Only it will not be entering the ring side by side as friends or even facing one another in friendly competition to see who the better man is. No no no. It’s going to be us trying to beat each other down to the mat as heated enemies. Once I watched your change of demeanor back in December when you costed Drastik the EAW Hardcore Championship against Jon McAdams, I knew something was not right with you. I guess it was only a matter of time before you set your sights on me then. Then again like I said, this is not how I imagined spending this week. I’ve never been a picky kind of guy though, I take what I can get. And as I said before, this is one of the most highly anticipated matchups fans of Voltage have been waiting for. The first time ever. Nasir Moore going up against Carson Ramsay. The Agent of Change going up against the Defiler of Ordinary. Now, I know one of my biggest issues is that I think way too much with my heart and not enough with my brain. If I were less emotionally invested and more mentally invested in many situations, I’d probably be a former Elite Answers Wrestling Champion by now. I fully realize that. But I suppose I really am an idiot and a glutton for punishment after all. Because if I am going to make it in this crazy place, then goddamnit I am going to do it as me. With all my positive and negative attributes intact. And I know, we are all here to compete to be the best. That’s what we’re paid to do. Wrestle in that ring. Only, you’ve got it half correct. We’re paid indirectly by the fans to enter that ring and compete to see who’s the best for their enjoyment. That’s what you should have said Carson. I’ve got no problems accepting that. My problem is the fact that you had to cause a problem with me. You came to me seeking a fight, and now you wanna act as if you’re so high and mighty and that you are above having a Free Per View match against me? What kind of backwards logic is that? You instigated this entire situation. Ramsay, you’re the person responsible for this matchup even taking place to begin with. So two things. First, thanks for getting me another Free Per View spot, very much appreciated. And second, whether you want to admit it or not, YOU need this match a hell of a lot more than I do!

Carson you realize that your stock has plummeted tremendously since Pain For Pride Nine way back when in July, almost eight months ago. That’s a long long time. And for the longest time I preached for you to be the next breakout main event star alongside me. I wanted you to be the one fighting the good fight alongside me for a better tomorrow throughout not just Sunday Night Voltage, but the entirety of the Land of the Elites. We were going to bring life and creativity back to this wasteland that is the Sunday Night brand. We were going to resurge it’s popularity and return it to the former glory it once possessed in the seasons prior. And then we both got sidetracked from our championship pursuits. You with Kenny Drake, and myself with Carlos Rosso. Now I made quick work of Rosso once he finally decided to see me in the ring like a man. Meanwhile you and Kenny took each other to hell and back and neither of you were around to talk about it the next week. Two men entered the ring on their own to feet, and neither walked away from it on them afterwards. And now Kenny is off brainwashing even more people into joining his Wolvesden. Meanwhile you of all the people in the world turned your back on what you believed in simply to get ahead. I suppose I cannot fault you for seizing the opportunity, but it didn’t have to be this way Carson. But what’s happened is set in stone. If I couldn’t convince Aren to see the light, I already know trying to make you budge is a lost cause as well. Speaking of which, you sure do seem to love reminding me about Aren, even in his absence. I mean, the dude hasn’t been here since November. And even then, even if I didn’t take the EAW Championship away from him at Territorial Invasion, I gave him a going away present when I roundhouse kicked his head off and delayed his inevitable title loss to Y2Impact at Shock Value. And yes your right. I said I’d rather live in the brand that I imagine Voltage being rather than the hell hole that it is now. That Carson, is what I meant when I said my fantasy for the brand versus the reality of it. It’s a barren wasteland with nothing positive to offer anyone who is trapped in it. It’s not an enjoyable place to be. It truly is a primitive place where only the strong can survive. Now sorry if this ideal makes me a progressive asshole, but that’s bullshit to me. Straight up. I’m not one to question the business and...well to hell with that, anyone who’s known me for any amount of time knows that it’s my whole shtick and practically my fucking job to question the business and its practices. And I don’t know about you but, I’d say I have a damn good spot on this show. Still not quite where I want to be, but damn good nonetheless. I mean I am the single most popular man on the show for one. That’s always something nice to have going for you huh? It doesn’t matter what other traits you have if no one wants to see you. I mean, I’ve got the in ring ability, I have the tenure, I have the speaking ability. I’d go as far as to say I’m not a half bad looker either. But I can see one little bit of your point. Clearly you do not want to take my spot. Because if you did you would not have turned your back on these people for your own selfish desires Ramsay. Because that’s pretty much the main thing with my spot. I am the representation of the Elite Answers Wrestling Fans. My heart and soul, mind and body, my being. It is one with all of them. The people who wear my t-shirts, the people who make signs dedicated to me, the kids who aspire to grow up to be like me, those who loyally stand beside me through thick and thin in the hopes of a brighter future and a better tomorrow that I and only I can bestow onto this brand on their behalf. They are the reason I get up every day and I go through what I do. I do this for each and every one of them. Why? Because Carson it’s just like I said before, someone has to take the responsibility of fighting for them. And without the people there would not be a Nas. So think of it as my way of giving back to them for what they’ve done for me. I’m sorry that things had to be this way Carson Ramsay, but I can’t afford to spend months on end dealing with you. I came back to Elite Answers Wrestling last April with one goal in mind. And that was to etch my name into the history books forever. To be listed alongside all of the all time greats of our business. From generation to generation. To be immortalized and acknowledged for all of time for your contributions to the wrestling world and more specifically to the land of the elites. For years and years of hard work and dedication to pay off and amount to something. For myself to rise above the mediocrity that this company has always dictated that I am and rub shoulders with the god’s who helped mold this crazy world of ours known as EAW into the titan that it is today. To be recognized by all as the absolute best without question. That is what I want. In order to achieve that goal, I must continue to move forward. I must press on towards the Elite Answers Wrestling Championship. Which means I must run straight through you at King of Elite Carson Ramsay...my old friend.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 7:08 am by J-Dynasty 2?
Words and images on a black screen.



A show of masks and illusions.

This is the mist I speak of all the time.

Jones appears.

Yet that guy Zuckerberg is one of the most influential people in the world, people ignore his history before his big launch and like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so much that some even think he’s a nice guy and countries worldwide make deals with that kind of character. He’s a true sovereign of his kind.

One of the key knowledges a ruler needs to know is that most people have little to no attention span, even less have true moral codes. Those most important, those who you need to support your power? They’re even worse than the average person amongst the masses, they make deals with those who otherwise would be considered criminals if they didn’t have something to offer them, you have country leaders

I watch people like Drastik, and he’s just like the masses, he is both easily distracted from what’s most important and far too mesmerized by empty gestures that keeps him from seeing the bigger picture.

Like a fatuous self-obsessed socialite typing away with smiley faces and laughs they don’t mean, Drastik is just trying to make the most contact with people regardless of if everything he says and does is empty, even if he’s not really paying that much attention at all.

Beauty in defeat? I’m now revving up to that. Really Drastik?

You really are quite the piece of work, all week you’ve admittedly been quite the fast responder, but the content of what comes out of your mouth has really suffered. Mostly because you don’t take the time to absorb information, let alone put in the work to give a response you should find dignity in. I’m starting to realize why sometimes O’Hara skips out from even speaking to you. Half the time you don’t know who either of us is talking to, other times you’re clearly speaking past us, and you have the strangest interpretations on the planet. I was out here talking about not being effected by words and mind games like the regular person, I tell you I live by a different scoreboard because you bullying me wouldn’t even cross my mind because I’m not like these people that could ever believe that their bullied…..and you take that as me setting up excuses and happy fun time messages about how there is good in losing?

Let’s set the record right now, there is nothing to gain in defeat.

I know damn well, these people don’t remember the work others put into matches, and epic contests to them are moments that fade from their memory in a matter of weeks….if they ever were enamored with the art of it all in the first place. They don’t remember fighters, they don’t remember how much love and hard work is put into what you do, they remember winners. So where’s the beauty in losing? Oh, I bleed for this business, yes unlike you I have pride in what I do no matter what, but I’ve never lived under some fantasy where you gain by going out there and losing. I’ve dusted off defeats from my shoulders to move on so I can continue building my story and reach victories in other places, but just like you Drastik I hate losing. Why would I have given O’Hara such a hard time about his little story about the good of losing the chamber, if such a thing existed anywhere within my personal character?  You’re a confused type, and though I won’t call it dyslexia, I will liken it to a lost babe in the woods, or better yet a lost traveler in the mist who doesn’t seem like he can make anything from his surroundings, before he is gunned down in a foreign place.

I’m glad I’ve sparked an awakening in you Jamie, but your petty labels make very little difference to the type of man who is indifferent with what the puppet masses think of my motives. Envy? Desperation? Those are mere buzzwords that people think offend those who await knocking down someone on a higher pedestal, there are words people use in front of crowds to make someone feel bad as that someone will panic thinking the people will laugh at desperate envy men. I am numb to your words, because I know how people work, I know how the world works. They’re all moldable. I haven’t had what I wanted just yet, but I know once I obtain the crown the pieces will fall into place, the last two years won’t matter when the doubts of the people are forgotten and they all grovel before me for my favour, for my attention, and to know what I do next. You try to play the game like turnabout is fair play, and it is, but the problem is I was never down in the dumps asking for people to feel sorry for me like you were, so these talks of deny my ecstasy and the blatant ill will towards me does not phase me. Neither am I the one who walks around here promoting the idea of fighting, oh sure I fight as hard as I can, but that is a means to an end rather than something I consider glorious in of itself, I fight to win.

Right now Jamie, I’m the most doubted man in this match. But once I obtain the crown, people will turn to hanging on every word I say, they will become my greatest supporters like they were bugs under a rock this entire time. You call me a gnat, but what will you say when that gnat is the one who ensured your path to kingship was sent off track? Will you speak so lowly of me then? Will it be words of hatred from your mouth mumbled? Or will you slither into the darkness, humbled?

Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 6:39 am by Xavier Williams.
Through all of the sarcasm and satire, I want to ask you one simple question, Methuselah. If you were in my shoes, what would have you done? You have you accepted the mediocrity bared across your shoulders, or would have you stood back up and walked back through the flames of war that once knocked you down? That’s the question that separates the mighty from the weak. I had to watch as many names stood in your way, and I had to watch as all of those names fell. Whether they were men with all of the potential in the world; whether they were men that were considered legends; whether they were men that were considered one of the greatest of all time - you knocked them back down. They crumbled into the nothing; they were never able to handle everything that they had lost. It took Y2Impact two years before he managed to pick himself back up and drag himself near the position that he once stood. Lethal Consequences quickly faded away into the obscurity that he had managed to avoid of the majority of this career. Robert Vendetta still hasn’t managed to recover after the war that you labelled the Battle of the Gods. That’s the main thing that separates off of those names from the two of us. I already know the answer to the question that I already ask. It’s the name answer that only I would give. You wouldn’t lay down. You wouldn’t surrender. You would continue to sweat. You would continue to bleed. You would continue to give every ounce to energy that you could until there was nothing left, and you would still force yourself back onto your hands and knees and crawl back through the flames of war asking, begging for more. I could have waited until the award show; I could walked through that curtain and asked for a chance to redeem myself for that loss at Pain for Pride, but we both know that I would have been shot down immediately. I would have been told to put my head down and make my way back up that ramp because we’ve both said it best; you have nothing to gain from his. You’ve beaten me before. You did it on the grandest stage of them all because I fell just short. I had to make you want this match just as much as I did. I had to get under your skin. I had this match in my pocket the moment that I spiked you on the top of your head at Road to Redemption, but the rest of it all was just fun.
But, while you may have nothing to gain from beating me at King of Elite - you have almost, if not just as much as I do to lose. If I lose at King of Elite, I have absolutely nothing to fall back on. I’m down to my last few chips and I’ve put all of them in. I lose at King of Elite and forced to start back down at the bottom of the ladder and begin making that long climb back to the top. But, Methuselah, take a look around and take a look as the walls that you’ve built around yourself begin to crack. The pillar that you sit on is starting to crumble The name Methuselah doesn’t hold the same might that it once did. Your family have been forced to take bullets for you - more than likely been forced to give up their own career because of your own mistakes. Hamasa isn’t going to stay around forever - especially once the man adores is humbled in front of the millions that are going to be watching so intently. That leaves you with nothing more than the jester of a god, oh Zen Guardian. What will you have then, Methuselah? What happens to the legacy that you once cherished more than life itself? What happens to your claims of being the best to have laces up a pair of wrestling boots? What happens to the moment chills run down their spine the moment that your name is uttered? Every single piece of it all gets tarnished. Your security blanket begins to go up in flames. The fantasy land that you’ve bought into begins to turn into a seemingly never ending nightmare. You’ll look around and know, wholeheartedly, that there was only one name that has brought you to your knees. I’ve said it multiple times before and I’ll say it again now - you’ll finally understand how far you have truly fallen. But, I cannot move forward until I turn all of that into reality. Truthfully, I have no idea how far I’m going to be forced to go. I’ll have to push myself harder than I ever have - but, I will. I didn’t think that I would say it as confidently as I am now, but like I’ve said - I have no doubts about King of Elite. That day is nobody else’s but mine. The day I shatter the only glass ceiling that has managed to knock me down. Good luck, Methuselah - it’s just a shame that luck isn’t going to enough to stop me.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 6:37 am by Devan Dubian
Each collapse creates a new form in a timeless cycle. 

And with the amount of collapses and mishaps you have had, it is no surprise to see yet another new construction of you, Zack Crash.

There is no doubt that the praise for my title is warranted in many ways. I am the King of Hall of Famers that stands above all champions here, but you are wrong in proclaiming that I am not deserving of holding such a prestigious honor. If my showing has been considered sub-par since returning then your showing has been significantly mediocre. Despite my persistent shouts and claims to be a higher entity, I still have value to show for all my success here in this company through this gold whilst you have not shown a sign of relevancy ever since your previous gold. I have taken on the trouble of carrying endowments from all my predecessors but the difference between you carrying it and someone like myself carrying it is that I have reassured hands that they can trust whereas you come with the benefaction of slipper and unstable hands with no upside to offer. And it has gotten to such an outrageous level that you have to refer to many different forms in your life in order to constantly revive and compensate for your career just so you can try to prove yourself once more. You are no more damaged than you were when you first stepped into this company but letting yourself believe in this delusion is adding fuel to the idea that there is some kind of invisible aura that makes you significantly more tenacious when that is not the case. But perhaps I do not give you enough credit for your intuition because after all this time, you still somehow find a process to one up yourself on your pipe dreams. After all, there was once a form of you that won two world titles, had self-respect, fought against the very proprietors for this company and someone whom I would have been more than content with in facing in the ring this week but at the same time, going into the Hall of Fame with. And it is ironic you talk about unreasonable accolades when one could argue that your very own addition to this prestigious clan was based off a mere run more than any long career merit. I have constantly proven myself to be par regardless of the era I have competed because I have constantly adapted and transformed to the situation at hand, not just my personality in order to accommodate for myself.  When I was told that I would have to fly in order to build my frame in this company, I flew higher than any competitor ever has in this company. When I was told that I would need to use technique in order to be the brand elitist in this company, I used my style in a capability which would help me succeed. And now that I am being told that I need to use all the experience I have gained and utilize all of it to compete with some of the greats that have ever competed in that ring. That is where you and I differ and what will ultimately define the result of me overwhelming you for my title this weekend.

There is no real reason to believe that you pose any peril to my championship because there is no merit there. It must not be omitted from history of facts that we have faced off a few times ourselves, lest not too long ago and I have came up victorious in almost all occasions. So whilst you can continue to make falsified claims of your forthcoming exigency, I know that regardless of your form, there is no talent beyond your theatrics. And I will continue to snicker at these theatrics until I sense that urgency imploring from you that proves to me that this is an authentic attempt for the Hall of Fame Championship and not a futile one just to further your disconnected career. The reason for those slight disassociation in your careers is precisely because you magnify yourself to be much larger than you really are, claiming your former selves to be superior to my present self is just an example of that. In your attempt to appease me with petty claims, you only create the opposite effect in which I feel more than a drive; no a desire to end your so much dignified Hall of Fame career once and for all. There is this inaccurate perspective that there needs to be respect based on the sole fact of timeliness and even more so for the deranged but when you have based your career off of belittling others for your own benefit, I see it as my sole full obligation to take every blow with a delight in respect to each and single career you have burdened over the years. It is only so fitting that the culmination takes off at the King of Elite too, the event that I have thrived in but has thoroughly escaped me a few times but this time, there is really only one way this match is going to go and that was verified the moment you decided to plunder the opportunity of extending my reigns across the lands. There is so much promised to this form and perhaps if there was hype or momentum surrounding you, I would be obliged to believe your superiority but matter of fact is, you are more likely to be screaming bullshit out of a dredge hole in the ground. What I possess however does not need to be exaggerated in words; I already built that reputation a long time ago but rather how I perform in the ring is proof enough of how capable I can be. It is my very own calm serenity, satire and fortitude that allows me wait you out throughout the match and once the promises you once claimed become too heavy for you to carry and you zone out. All of this; everything is just a process of time and being fed from a golden spoon far too early, you have become anxious and irritable and that alone will give me all the advantage I need heading into this match against you. Whereas I have already found my limit, you are testing yourself with fire and getting burned faster to the ground than possibly any other Hall of Famer to ever step in that ring. So if nothing else, you can grant yourself with that accolade. Through it all, new form or not, you have not really changed at all and victory will have never come so straightforward to me.

In dealing with a man with multiple persona forms, there is just one way to take him down..
.. put him down slowly with a knife through his heart, which is what I intend to do
because rest assured, my Hall of Fame championship is going to be with its King for a long, long time.

Last edited by Devan Dubian on January 26th 2017, 6:48 am; edited 2 times in total
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 5:53 am by Impact
There are those that go into battle assuming what will happen, and there are those that draw their sword knowing the blood that will be shed isn’t theirs. Almost invariably, those in the latter category come out with the victory. Now, Eclipse Diemos thinks he has a foolproof strategy for me defeating at King of Elite, yet I sit here confident because I know that Eclipse does not. Eclipse Diemos discerns inaccurately, boasts really, that a machine’s joints and wires are more fragile than that of a flesh-and-blood type such as himself. And because of this supposed inferiority in my hardware, I’m prone to submission maneuvers, that I’ve just been fortunate nobody has exploited that flaw in my design yet and he’s going to be the one that finally rattles my cage. Do I struggle when a submission hold is applied? Do I intentionally avoid them? I don’t struggle more than anybody else. In fact, if you look at my history, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a single instance of a man forcing me to submit — and consider it bravado, bluster like he has, ignorant to the massive threat that I pose him and vainly fixated on the threat he believes he poses me — but Eclipse Diemos is not going to be another name added to that short list. As a matter of fact, you could say — I think I’d venture to — that I’m among the very hardest wrestlers to submit in the history of this company. The reason that I will always be one step ahead of Eclipse Diemos is simple. He’s talking about refusing to falter to someone who has forsaken their humanity, and by that point it’s already in my rearview mirror. Just when you think you’ve got me cornered, it ends up being you backpedaling and trying to pick up the pieces of what I shattered. One thing I’ll commend Eclipse Diemos for is sticking to his convictions. He may not be right, and he may keep fighting that losing battle for the rest of his career, but at the very least he has never abandoned his core tenets. Fear, and its endless power to fortify the senses of ordinary men. This deranged man Eclipse Diemos both wants to make his opponents experience fear and at the same time teach them its virtues, even at the expense of leaving a defeated mess himself. That’s why despite taking losses in his highest profile matches and constantly having run-ins with disappointment, Eclipse is always able to take it in stride. Eclipse always takes solace in the fact that at the end of the day, to him, winning truly isn’t the only thing; fear is its surrogate. He gains a twisted satisfaction out of making men experience it, and for The Machine to denounce it and consider himself exempt from its clutches? It’s easy to see why Eclipse is foaming at the mouth. He’s salivating at the prospect that I could very well be his perfect challenger, and while I’ll never be able to understand or comprehend why exactly that has such great significance to him, I know that it does. I can recognize a manipulator like Eclipse Diemos because I’ve always been a manipulator myself. Two peas in a pod, wouldn’t that be an unexpected change of events? The difference is that while I’ve been manipulating my adversaries for years all for the sake of victory, Eclipse Diemos preys on their emotions, exploiting weaker men and women while they’re vulnerable and appealing to their passions for the sake of molding them in his image. If I was in a movie, right about now is the time I’d say we are more alike than we are different. But this isn’t a movie, and I am not an actor. Eclipse Diemos wants to take my EAW Championship from me, inflict pain upon me, make me feel abject tragedy at the very same time that I’m teased with triumph, watching it dangle in front of my face before ripping it all away.

Eclipse Diemos wants to make me experience what he’s experienced.

Insecurity. Disappointment. Failure. Nearness. Distance. Fear. The strengths that he covets are his ability to experience fear — fear of failure, fear of disappointment, fear of never again getting the opportunity to lace up a pair of boots in a World Championship match. Those are the things motivating Eclipse Diemos to take the reins and create The Outcast Voltage. But I’m standing in his way, and I don’t intend on moving for anybody. The great irony here is that should I miraculously lose and become able to empathize with Eclipse Diemos and all the times in the past that he came up just a hair short of reaching the promise land and standing atop the mountain, he no longer will be — because that would make him the EAW Champion. And that is what being the EAW Champion does to you. You’re confident now, but it’s a fleeting confidence — one that comes and goes by the pinfall. Being EAW Champion emboldens you. It compels you to be fearless because wearing that championship around your waist is confirmation that you have conquered every single obstacle that was put before you. And when you’ve conquered every single obstacle put before you, what more is there to attain than that? Most men who become World Champion succumb to the joylessness of maintaining their title, but I, The Machine, understand the beauty. I understand the struggle. I know how difficult it is to keep churning along with the same passion that allowed you to become champion while you actually are champion. That is what allowed me to capture this seventh World Championship reign — rising beyond my humanity, rising beyond contentedness and vanity. That allowed me to forget about what I had accomplished before and let the present take precedence. It did, and as a result, here I stand: the record seven-time World Champion. You’re terrified of me, Eclipse. You said so yourself. Where do you go from here if you fail to capture the EAW Title at King of Elite? Will you continue to be a leader in name only, one that barks orders but himself isn’t competent enough to execute his own plans? Can you really abide such a lifestyle? You SHOULD be terrified. You SHOULD be scared. If you don't win the championship, you don’t know what’s waiting behind the next door you open — or if anything even is. And if you somehow miraculously manage to win the EAW Championship, you’ll forget about your inability to do away with Gabriel Eden. You’ll forget being a lackey. You’ll forget about being unable to capture the World Heavyweight Championship. You’ll forget about all of the failures that spawned the man in your mirror today, and you’ll be left with a lasting image — that of a champion who has finally fulfilled his goal. You’ll drown in the gold, forget how to fear, and lose sight of what allowed you to become champion to begin with. But I will not. I have not. And that is why you will never, ever take this championship away from me.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 5:48 am by Jon McAdams

As the camera turns on, McAdams is seen running the ropes a few times before coming to a stop. He slides out of the ring and pops open a bottle of champagne on his desk and takes a sip.

“Ah… you see that?” McAdams takes a second sip and places it that. “That’s a victory sip. Here’s a toast to you, Maero. I’m looking forward to hearing you try to define me even further as if you really ever knew me. I don’t know how many times I have to tell all of you I’m not an extraordinary gentleman. I’ve never claimed that I am. I can be a gentleman, but only when the situation calls for it but that’s hardly a point to be verbally attacking.” McAdams sips again and places the bottle down before giving a little chuckle. He grins broadly at the camera. “Money doesn’t make a man. It wasn’t my money that put me in that ring. It wasn’t my money that gave me the skill in the ring and on the mic. Come on Maero,  how can you sit there and pretend to know me but keep bringing this up. You've no idea who you're dealing with. You’ve never really grasped it. I’m not some ego trip who makes idle threats and I’d have hoped that you could remember the more important details of my journey here. How I got to this place and why it wasn’t Drastik, or Ahren or some other moron who you stole that title from. But Me. You of all people know that no one becomes a champion here just because of the money. You want to talk about deserving? I guess the psychopath who kills people for fun gets a free pass because he takes care of a hospital of children. Your words drip with a twisted and somehow naive mentality. Your hypocrisy is unnerving. I don’t deserve anything I didn’t earn and you’d do well to remember the empire that I sit upon is one that wasn’t given to me but one that I conquered. Tell me Maero? Did you conquer that hospital? Did you conquer this ring? Did you stand alone for all this time and rule over EAW? No. You stood on the shoulders of greater men like Eclipse to keep you from falling from relevancy. You played off the sympathies of the troglodytes who watch this show by showing them all the sick children you apparently take care of all while working a full time wrestling career and murdering people. Which brings me to my next point. I don’t entirely know which one you actually are cause you’re not both. You talk about different versions of me but Maero, I’ve always been The Survivor. I’ve always been Jon McAdams. I’ve always been the man who gets what he wants, because he earned it. Because that’s what makes a deserving champion. But you Maero. You flip flop worse than a man running for office and you’ve got so many people's hand in your pocket I don’t think you even really know who you are. Case in point, if Eclipse ordered you at King of Elite to walk down to that ring and hand me my belt and eat the pin, you would because for all your rantings about how hardcore you are, you belong to one of two masters and you serve them like Gods. There’s psycho killer Maero who is chained to the hip of the leader of the Sanitorium and owes them everything for helping you keep your job despite your record; And there’s bound to the floor, bowing to the crowd Maero who takes care of children at the hospital and stole a shiny belt from the ‘evil’ millionaire. One of these men is a phony, and since they inhabit the same body I just don’t think they are ‘deserving’. Say whatever you want about my character but I've never been dishonest or pretended to be something I'm not.

There is no question of entitlement on my part, Maero, and for all of your talk about getting over your losses and manning up we both know you don’t lose upwards. There is no success in defeat so when I say that I didn’t lose to you, but you stole that victory from me. I mean it. It was a mistake. It was not legitimate because we both know that you can’t beat me and it won’t happen again. Each match has seen me become better than the last, pushed me harder, and shot me into the title scene faster than anyone. Now it doesn’t bare repeating so I won’t, all you need to know is that I saw what happened last time we got into the ring, one on one. and I promise you it won’t happen again. I’m going to find out exactly which Maero is the real one and dig in so deeply and rip him right out of this shell that’s pretending to be a champion. No excuses.

A broken record? I get it, you’re experienced in blood and spooky stuff. You hurt people and cut people open and do nasty things. I understand what you think you are and I get why you think that that is hardcore but I’ll never understand why you think that means you’re the hardcore champion. You managed to get the amount of matches correct this time and I applaud you but you’re doing your absolute best to spin this in a way that makes you look stronger than you are or have ever been. You pinned Ahren and that’s… cute? Doesn’t matter where he was the whole match, I pinned you, at the very beginning. So let’s just stop touching on that, yeah? We’ve discussed our second match at great length and we both already know the outcome will have me holding my belt again. And our third match was a throwaway. Impact is playing is own game and he wanted to throw that match away, which he did, that's fine but Maero, on your journey to try and find credibility in your short time as champion it’s important to not get so superfluous with your bullshit. It only makes you look weaker when people see what it is you’re talking about and I get it, I think it’s finally clicked.

This way you’re talking. The attitude that you have and sudden burst of confidence. Based on your, well, let’s call a spade, a spade. Your lies about how exactly you came to ‘beat’ me and how many times you have and all the other silly exaggerations that you’ve made, you know that the end of your reign is coming. You know that this was just a lucky moment to shine. You know that this could very well be the last time you ever hold a title belt and you are just soaking it in and I understand that. So soak it in friend. Talk about how you are the monster or have the devil in you, talk about how much of a great champion you are. Hopefully the audience hears you and continues to buy your merch and pretend that you still matter here. Hey, I think you’ve carved yourself a nice niche in the card. Good enough to win a title, steady enough to keep on working here, but not enough to be that something special. Your attempts to show the fans that you belong here and give them hope that maybe they do to will ultimately cause more damage than good. They may start to live vicariously through you. Soon they may actually believe it only to be find themselves completely crushed at the realization that your career isn’t going anywhere anymore or worse, they realize what you really are. A leech in the sanitorium riding their coat tails to greatness and they will hate you for it.

I don’t think you’re as crazy as you paint yourself out to be. I think you’re just… doing whatever you can to keep up this persona. Doing whatever you can and praying to your wendigo and hoping that someone doesn’t see through your act. Also come on, don’t be an idiot. I’m not here chasing after your affections, I want my damn title back. Clingy? How about you stop being so damn cringy and be real with me. You don’t want me to be repetitive? Well then stop shoveling the same shit in my direction and get my fucking name right. It’s Mr. McAdams and you’ve overstayed your welcome in my life. I’m not going to address some of this cause it’s literally the same shit you said at the beginning of your promo. So keep beating yourself up, I hope you come to that ring somehow looking even more like the bloody piece of dog shit that you do. Keep spilling your own blood because your so damn hardcore. Good. I like seeing it. I want to see more of it in person and I plan too but stop pretending you know what that title is about. Stop pretending that you know me and stop pretending to be this monster that you think you are. It’s garbage. You want to scare me show me a man who actually understand what it means to be hardcore because for me, it means I get my sleep and I get up and I do nothing but work at this match, That title isn’t suffering and bone and corpses in the same way that I am not representative of some posh lifestyle.

That title is a representation of true sacrifice. To be Hardcore is to sacrifice everything for what you love. I’ve sacrificed family, friends, loved ones, my childhood, my youth, my heart and my innocence to be here. You’ve sacrificed only your dignity and personal beliefs so you can be called ‘hardcore’. So don’t talk to me about respect, when you’ve only ever manipulated it. Don’t stand there and talk about bringing forth a war with Jon McAdams. You don’t want that no matter how much you think you’ve already seen it. Maero. Your understanding of how this world works is childish. Your definition is childish. Your mentality is childish just like your insults. I’m not fucking around with you right now. You have something that belongs to me. So don’t worry about denials. Don’t worry about gaining my respect. Worry about your future because a lot hinges on this weekend. You think you’re walking into hell with a welcome mat already placed before you. You think that ring is your home. I think King of Elite is where your career goes to die and I remind you of your place in this company. So go ahead. Humor me with your cute metaphors about starbucks and talk about victories and all that stuff that you think matters, I’ll laugh along and sing and dance right next to you but only cause I know the truth. At King of Elite, your dream is over.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 3:59 am by Jamie O'Hara
The filth of envy runs deep, doesn’t it Tiberius?

It blinds men and makes it quite impossible for them to think with a clear mind and for you this rings quite true. Such desperation, perhaps it’s you who reeks of it and not Drastik. Desperate to prove to yourself more than anyone else that you could have had my success; obsessed to feel justified to feel in such a manner. I’m sure it was tough to see someone you wholeheartedly believe was a lesser man get praised as something greater than just your average top prospect. Of course I’ve heard this all play out before several times, again it’s a nice site to once again see. A seed of doubt is firmly rooted well within your subconscious; we all have one, they all feed on hope and pride and from this manifestation, envy spawns. I am not an angel in this situation either, my envious side drives much of the desire regardless if I want to admit that or not. Pride, envy and avarice provide the sparks that set fire upon our hearts. No matter who, this is truth in it’s most undeniable form and all three are products of that doubt. The masks we dawn to hide our true emotions are always admirable efforts yet in the end, no matter how bright our pride may shine, it will not hide the cracks in our ego’s shield, a mask will not change the words that scream jealousy which fall from our lips, and our desire to obtain material things will remain ever present. Fuck me for this. Fuck me for that. Allow it to escape every pore in your body, your envy only fuels my delight. I stood on top of the world and held it all, regardless of the complexity of emotions and my own personal view of it all, I enjoyed the spoils that come with being the victor. Perhaps it’s you who can inspire me to be more appreciative and maybe then I will ease up on this sob story I will to tell on my way to a second reign as champion. This world is filled with people who scratch and claw and they’re people who have done it much longer than you have. But the bleak future they face is that no matter how far into the dirt they dig their nails, they will not have a moment where their struggles are justified. Their years of hard work remain unrewarded. Perhaps that’s just your destiny TJ. To forever scratch, to forever claw your way and be so close; forever envious of the success I’ve tasted thus far and the moment of pure ecstasy that will never fall on your tongue. But you will not accept that fate; we will speed towards it but you will not accept it without a fight.

Envy will spur you on. Envy will take you to within sight of victory but a bullet will end any hope of such glory. Your desires to reign as a sovereign will once again become something you chase endlessly; perhaps next time a bald man will not stand in your way. Don’t quit, don’t falter, don’t break down; how many times is that thrown around? How often do people in this world stand by it as a warcry, lyrics in their song of greatness only to watch it - minute by minute, second by second - crumble into nothing? It has been the backbone of many and so many have had their spines ripped from their bodies by my hands. Never to be the same again. More than them? You’re no different to everyone else in this world craving success. You’re no different than the lowly bottom-feeders who spend years delivering nothing more than mediocrity. Sure, some of them manage to pull themselves off the bottom and rise to the surface but they are, sooner or later, sent back to the black depths of the bottom. Your drive and determination is not some unique story, none of us walk into this match with a tale that people haven’t heard before. The tired and near dead legend trying to keep his career alive is played out more than once each year. How many times is redemption the tagline to a contest we see unfold before our eyes? You...no matter how much you scratch and claw, look around and see that your marks are not the only ones that exist. Look around and see the scratches in the dirt that end beside you; so close to the pinnacle but even they realised when it was a futile effort to turn a dream into reality. Preach that I’ve always had this coming to me. Preach that what you THINK that night two and half years ago could been if you hadn’t been removed from the contest. None of what you say, in any decree, in any manner, none of it will matter when my knee shatters your skull into a thousand pieces. The envy will only build. The doubt will grow more and more; you won’t become the Answers World Champion anytime soon, you won’t have a crown to wear upon your head. How heavy it weighs will not be something you will feel. The world has kept us apart for all these years and truthfully, it wasn’t until now that ever remembered that night. You never mattered to me and beyond being a useless obstacle in my way, you still don’t.

You’re an insignificant gnat that somehow crawled its way to the gates of heaven. Your cold, bleak future is being knocked from its golden steps and sent crashing down onto the windscreen of reality. Along with so many who have scratched and clawed to this point, it all ends here. However, I cannot underestimate the power of jealousy, the power of envy to destroy; just like I’m yet to see you as anything more than the greater threat to my claim to the crown. Your jokes, your games - it’s far from a means to cover the flaws that exist like Drastik, rather it’s the confidence that exists. You’re good. You most certainly good but great? Great you are not.

If you haven’t caught on, none of that applied to you Drastik but I’m sure it won’t stop you from voicing your opinion on the words I spoke. I could stop, I could pause but the more you speak, the more you lose your grip on it all. The more my words become blurred but not because I slur them, rather your mind is losing the plot. Less and less words matter; each time I care a little more and whether it’s today, whether it’s tomorrow, I will cease caring. See, this worked for years didn’t it? You backed your opponents into a corner where, like you, their fragile egos led their hand and slowly but surely, your relentless assault led them to stumble over their words. True defeat before the bell even rung; that’s what we all seek and there you deserve the applause. Yet today you waste your breath. You do not face men with the mindset of kids dealing with puberty, who couldn’t cop a hit on the chin without lashing out in a grand manner. You could drown them out then and you did so to get here; but this is the creme of the crop! This is the elite few - pardon the pun - who represent the true nature of this landscape; Tiberius and I represent the calm and the patience to not fall to such weak forms of attack. Back then, people questioned your tenacity as stupidity and only fueled your arrogance and confidence but we...we stand back and realise your conscience is not as unstained and mighty as your words craft it to be. Less and less we respond, less and less I respond because I know what awaits each and every time; a self-glorifying speech, treated as if I’m just another Venutra, Nick Angel, Liam Catterson. While men like them would fight to hold back tears, I can only laugh at your baseless claims; reality is there’s not enough weight behind such comments to be bothered by it. You didn’t see my rise, you didn’t see my short reign as champion, you didn’t see how I bounced back from misery; you have seen so little so at what point do I care about any criticism you throw my way? Just like your shots at consistency; you know little but you cast judgement as if you’ve read my story from front to back tenfold. Yet you haven’t. It’s hard to debate, open a dialogue between the two people when one acts so grand and mighty in his claims; his belief unshakable.

No, I’m well aware of how this all works but there is nothing interesting in the manner you approach this. You have one trick to all of this and that’s shoving your “greatness” down the throat of your opponents relentlessly while resorting to a grade school mentality of trying to belittle and humour our efforts. Problem is, we don’t have the mental capacity of a twelve year old and see beyond it; don’t blame us for your inability to grow out of a dated mindset of what it takes to succeed and defeat your opponents before the match begins. You can blow a balloon up to the size of a mountain but in the end it’s still a harmless balloon; it’s size does not create fear from those who stand in it’s shadow. They all know inside lies hot hair, nothing to truly fear and something as small as a pin can bring it back down. I look forward to your attempts to mock that. No, you’re still far off the mark regarding the New Breed title and the events of Road to Redemption. Even with your improved efforts to overcome your newfound learning deficiency, you’re closer but still far away from being correct on the manner. However, it stands as a fine example of how desperate you are to be right, to have no chinks in your armour; untouchable with the wisdom, the insight of a God. Your fragile ego can’t stand being wrong, you must be correct; you will trip, you will fall, you will stumble but you will carry on until you find satisfaction in being “right”. It’s there you will mock and belittle, act as if you were never wrong to begin with. For years people walked blindly into your snare and tried to fight every illogical sentence you spewed out but I am not concerned with a man who does not pause and take a breath, I’m not concerned with a man who lacks such incredible substance in his words. When the bullet looms and time stands still just just a second before the darkness consumes you, you will realise that you no longer have a place in this world.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 26th 2017, 12:37 am by Jacob Senn
A man’s legacy.

The one thing that determines if we are just another face in the crowd, that will be forgotten once our deaths have been realized, or if we are immortalized by the memories that we were able to give unto every single person that has viewed us. For most people, their legacy rests within their spawn that they has brought into this harsh and unforgiving world. Everything that they’ve done with their lives, resting on the shoulders of a person that they created, all could be reduced into oblivion with actions that are out of their control. For the privileged few, their memory is eternal from the illustrious and noteworthy moments that they were able to give to the world, and I believe that you’re one of those men, Heart Break Boy. The Heart Break Boy has given us PHENOMENAL moments that are treasured throughout time, with his time in Project EGO and when he reigned as world champion throughout the years, and that might very well be the legacy that he leaves for every person that has watched him. He’s even correct about Heart Break Boy being a man that has been a pioneer, a trailblazer, that has made it possible for men like me to be able to stand here right now as a part of this roster. I’m not ashamed to admit that because I wasn’t here in EAW in the early beginnings, so he was able to be the foundation that this place was created upon among other legends, but what about this day and age that has been able to find new names and faces to be the backbone? What about the generation that was born to eclipse these veterans and legends to be able to stand out against the shining light that they had created for themselves? We deserve a chance to be able to etch our own legacy, to create something that will be timeless when everything else has been left to the decay of death, and that’s what this match will become for me. My legacy will be a man that has been able to grasp the torch from the legends of old and carry the weight of this company on his shoulders, climbing to the pinnacle of this business, to be known as the greatest to ever lace up a pair of boots and enters inside this career! When I hear that you call yourself “Greatest of All Times” and that you’re the true world champion, it makes me sick to my stomach and drives me to the point to where I MUST eradicate that thought from your mind to be able prevent you from having the greatest of heart breaks of your career. Instead of having to face the music of knowing that your time has run through and it’s now the age of The Punisher, but you won’t accept that. There’s too much pride, too much fight inside of you to realize your fate, so I will have to give you the punishment that I attempted to prevent you from experiencing.

The punishment that you will experience will be in the same vein of what you experienced last year, the one that made you have one foot out of the door of EAW, the great World Heavyweight Championship Match you had against Brian Daniels. Brian Daniels, a name that has been a bane to both of our collective careers, but one that I’ve been in a fight of dominance with since my career began. However for you, it’s a name that was the epitaph attached to your own personal tombstone for your career. You desired to pass the torch to him, to give him that validation that I have sought from the world, but none have been humble enough to accept it. Now, you have resurrected from the grave and intend to take that torch back, but how shall you do that? How will the show-stealing and headlining Heart Break Boy be able to grasp that torch again and burn brighter than he has ever before? You believe that it will be this EAW World Heavyweight Championship, the elusive trophy that has escaped you for the entire year, but I’m a fond believer in my own abilities. I know this mind that I house will be able to take you on, compete with each beat that you play in the middle of the ring, and fight you on your BEST DAY and could still prevail! You may think that this championship of mine won’t be defended against the best of this industry, the best men on this roster than can rise up and fight against me, but that’s an incorrect assumption from you. I’ll take on WHATEVER CHALLENGE that I choose to take on because I want people who are deemed worthy, which is why I denied your challenge when you were the miserable worshipper of God, and why I signed when you showed some sign of the man that you used to be! I’m happy that you’re here to give me a challenge, like the Elimination Chamber wasn’t a challenge of its own and you so nonchalantly disregard for being one, but the resurrection of The Heart Break Boy of old will be one that makes this match something that will brighten the prestige of this world championship more than it would have been before! You might desire to spark the flame of your torch back with this match, hoping that a victory against the face of Dynasty and stealing his World Heavyweight Championship will be just that, but I will snuff that spark out before it’s able to bring that torch ablaze! You can doubt me as a performer because men that didn’t deserve this championship had gotten their fingers wrapped around it, you can believe me to be someone that won’t be able to handle the pressure of a man like you standing across from me with those fiery eyes of passion and determination, and that will be the VERY THING THAT PREVENTS YOU FROM REALIZING YOUR MISSION OF BEING WORLD CHAMPION! SO DOUBT ME, HBB! BELIEVE THAT THOSE MEN HAVE MADE BE COMPLACENT AND NOT DESPERATE TO RETAIN THIS, FOR I WILL MAKE YOU REGRET THAT SENTIMENT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!

With the virtue of patience, I shall be patient to wait until King of Elite to be able to bring you down your knees and stomp you out as a challenger to my championship. God didn’t have to gift me with this patience as you claim that he has done to you, but it has been right here in my mind, an intellect that has given me the opportunity to hold this championship. For I will bide my time to be able to stand in the ring against you, wait for the opportune moment to nail you with the bullet that will put you down like Old Yeller, and do what I was put on this Earth to do and punish. For you have talked about what we were born to do, with you speaking about leading and developing our skills, which is all and fine for you. For me, that’s all part of what I’m born to do here in EAW. I’m here in EAW to do two things and nothing else: win matches and championships. All of that demands that I lead as the world champion, advance and adapt to the styles that I shall be faced with, and demand nothing but perfection in everything that I do. Whether it be the attacks that I do in the ring, the mental tactics that I have in store for you, or the strategy that I adopt to break you down until there’s nothing left but a disheveled and broken in the middle of the ring! It has been my course of action against the best elitist that have appeared in this industry! World champions, Hall of Famers, you name them AND I HAVE SHUT THEM DOWN! If I haven’t laid them down on their back or forced them to submit to my will, then you line them up and bring them to me, because I will prove to you and each and every person on this roster that there is no man that will be able to break me in the middle of that ring! Be as patient as you want, lose that patience and lunge at me with that signature kick of yours, and I will be waiting for you with a wickedness that has been unmatched and will remain that way! I don’t need a personal trainer, I don’t a world-class gym or camp behind me, for my work ethic and determination alone are able to bring me to the promised land. I don’t need ANYONE behind me, not even God himself, for I have this World Heavyweight Championship that proves that I’m the face and that I’m the man that everyone chases after. I’m a man that has shown how opportunistic I can be, how desperate I can be, and how ruthless I can be when I’m placed into a corner and HBB, you have placed me in this corner. You have placed me in a situation to where I need to bring everything, show no remorse unto you like I had in that Elimination Chamber, and finish you once and for all! I told you that night at Glass Wallz would be a grave mistake that you would pay for and now… it has all come into a complete circle here at King of Elite.

This match between you and me could already become the Match of the Year! People buzzing about how this match will not be one that they will be PAID to miss! The Heart Break Boy, a key figure in the rise of EAW’s prominence as one of the top companies in this industry and without him, the door might have not been opened for a man like me. Jacob Senn, the current EAW World Heavyweight Champion, a man that has revolutionized the industry and has built upon the foundation of EAW, to the point where Dynasty has forever been changed by his presence. A legend to stand against the face, in a match where every single eye in the room will be locked square in on us, and that pressure is what will make a diamond out of this final battle! At the end of the day, one of us will walk out with this World Heavyweight Championship to hoist high in the air at the expense of the other! One will have this trophy and a smile on their face with the other on their back and unable to stand! This is a match that every person on Dynasty has been waiting for, a once in a lifetime opportunity to see two of the best in-ring performers stand against one another, and I relish the opportunity to stand with you in The Royal Arena as rivals! We will bring the best out of one another or the person that hesitates will fall, but don’t expect me to be the man that wavers! For there can be only one EAW World Heavyweight Champion, one man to carry the torch, one man to be able to have his legacy rise in prestige! It will not be you, because my reign as The Punisher is not over, and a punishment will be dealt to the man that stands before me! At King of Elite, you will face your own punishment of knowing that the only legacy that will exceed in all expectations is the one that I manufacture.

For the only legacy that matters is mine!
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 11:20 pm by Drastik
(Drastik is sitting back in his hotel room, munching on a big bowl of popcorn as the cameraman works on various angles to get the best shot. On the TV screen is the movie Moneyball with award-winning actor Jonah Hill in it. Drastik turns toward the cameraman and asks him if he thinks being called Jonah Hill is an insult. The cameraman hesitates before Drastik cuts him off and starts listing all of the great movies that he was a part of, both serious and comedic. The cameraman doesn’t really comment, so Drastik keeps talking, saying that if this really was like 21 Jump Street, Ahren Fournier would be Channing Tatum. The cameraman rolls his eyes. Drastik starts talking about the scene where Jonah and Channing take turns fingerbanging each other’s mouths, which is immediately cut off by the cameraman who encourages Drastik to just start his rant on Tiberius instead of talking about this. Drastik begins.)
It’s becoming more and more apparent that the child within the man Tiberius Jones is starting to withdraw himself from this. I don’t know exactly what happened—exactly what was said to make things click in your head. I don’t know what worry finally stood out above all else. I don’t know if you’re just tired of this relentlessness coming from me or the degree at which the three of us have been applying ourselves, but I see it. And I think Jamie O’Hara probably sees it too. The well is running dry and time is running short for you. We went from seeing this pristine trophy of a superstar—poised, ready, determined, daring me as you looked into my eye. When I first heard from you I thought that maybe this was someone that I had missed out on facing. I joked around in the past and said that I was disappointed in the competition, disappointed in hyping myself up over facing Nathan Fiora for the first time before destroying him, same to Carson Ramsay and others. But you, TJ, you brought that fervor right back when I first heard from you. But the storm’s worn on you. The hail has chipped at that trophy I once saw glimmering, and now I can see that you weren’t really gold. You’re airbrushed. You’re painted. I saw little slips of the child inside of you that’s been hiding behind a strong young man. You’ve built your own confidence up and kept appeasing the child inside of you, hope holding out a hand to reason and saying, “Don’t be scared. Trust me.” Maybe you did take hope’s hand and follow behind him. But when I came in as relentlessly and as pestering as I’ve been these last few days, I can see that your hope has been worn down. And as a result, that grip of reason’s hand has loosened. The child inside of you has been left alone to fend for himself. You say that only the weak get bullied—that I couldn’t possibly be bullying you because you’re strong. But you’re not. Maybe you, as a whole package, are strong, but the child you’ve been devolved down into is anything but powerful. You have BECOME weak because of having to deal with me. I have worn you down and stripped you more and more of that undying hope that has kept you afloat since the days you first spent alone without Hexa-Gun. You were all-powerful with Hexa-Gun. Your confidence and determination seemed unending. That’s actually the kind of guy that I got excited about facing, TJ. When I saw some of the stuff you did with Hexa-Gun, some of the stuff you’ve cited this week, I have to admit that I was impressed. Maybe I was even fooled into thinking that you could stand on your own—that you didn’t NEED that support group around you. But Hexa-Gun is in the past now. You don’t have that group behind you, and thanks to your blind hope, you’ve convinced the child inside of you that there’s nothing to fear when the only person you have is yourself. I shouldn’t hold it against you because you obviously don’t know better, but you can see why I speak to you the way I do.
I’m in this tournament not because I’m some bored legend that likes to take opportunities away from the new guys—though I’ll admit, leapfrogging guys on the depth chart is always incredibly fun—but because I know that EAW would never hand me the things that they hand guys like Y2Impact. Y2Impact and even Methuselah are around, sure, and have had their opportunities with the world championship, sure, but it’s their clean record that allows them to be inserted into a situation like that. Elite Answers Wrestling feels safe when they throw out a guy like Jaywalker to take on Lannister; matches like that draw interest immediately, and the company knows that Jaywalker wouldn’t do anything to burn them. There’s trust there. There’s a professional agreement where Jaywalker or Y2Impact or Methuselah or whoever else has forgiven this company for the sins they made against them. Everyone pretends everything is absolved. It’s not that way with me. This company knows what kind of wild beast they’ve signed up for when they call on my services, so they do their best to avoid me at all costs. I only slip in here because I can see that a general manager needs me desperately, or I see a loophole in the system that can let me in, or I find the weakest access point and I’m here. EAW, just for a moment, forgets what I am or at least convinces itself that I can probably be contained this time before they are quickly put in their place. I don’t get to ask for championship opportunities because this company doesn’t trust what I’d do behind the wheel. That’s what makes opportunities like this so special to me—it’s an opportunity to force my way behind the wheel even when the company pleads with god that I don’t get that kind of control. I slip in. I take. I leave. I slip in. I take. I leave. I slip in. I take. I leave. EAW’s board already sees the possibility of it and it leaves a nervous anxiety brewing in the pits of their stomachs. They know what could come of this now that I’m this close. In a way, maybe they’re pulling for you, Tiberius—maybe they want you to win this one because you’re just as innocent and obedient as the legends that I listed. But I know that they’ve fallen into the same trap as the little boy inside of you has—they’ve taken the hand of hope as it reached out to them, “Take my hand. Trust me.” They have a blind hope leading them into this weekend’s festivities, and it’s kept them from seeing what you’ve been ground down into. You’ve become the type of guy that talks about playing with a different scoreboard. You’re already revving up the motors to the “There’s beauty in defeat” speech that Jamie O’Hara has been equally tuning up for since god knows how long. That’s how I know that your hope—your leader—has failed you. Your leader has fallen. Luckily for you, a new leader is set to become king this weekend. And while you may not want to follow me, it’ll be your decision to be left in the dust.
(Drastik turns his attention back to the television screen, turning the movie up and taking another handful of buttered popcorn. Much of it spills all over his bed. The cameraman flicks off the camera to prepare for the high-anticipated new editing of solid white text flashing on the screen once before fading to black. Incredible. Monumental. A masterpiece. I wish Jonah Hill was in this.)
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 10:59 pm by The Elite-Lord
It is time for Lannister to rise once and for all, from this silence. For Lannister can hear the rhythm of the banging of drums in the distance, a faint tune beginning to gain cadence of belief. A salvation born anew, with voices echoing the battle cry. For The Pizza Boy has set his battle plans, and come to invade Lannister's lands once and for all, upon his own terms. Seeking to serve as a prophet on his campaign claims, to take back what he lost. The tune calls out to the ideals of redemption and vengeance - one that surely hopes to speak in premonition folk. But there is not refuge to be sought in this forgotten chord, in which the Pizza Boy boasts. For The Pizza Boy has once more exhausted his casting of shadows, the one that follows his every step. The figure remains indeed, an isolated memory, of what was this shallow accolade that this man continues to cling onto. It has filled his head with glowing esteem, even though the recollection itself should come to create a void within. For there is madness to be had within the mind, knowing that Lannister knocked you down from your pedestal before you could even take a step on it. Oh yes, how the salt is apparent, and made anew by every single encounter with the one that rings true. Lannister has etched his code into your soul now, and oh yes, how the anthem of the underdog can no longer be associated with this man who molds himself around a pizza. It was nice for you to allude to such obvious statements Pizza Boy, just so you could save Lannister the trouble from devouring within the back drop of it all. For this is the barren ground that Lannister lays waste to - the one that you keep alive, this idea - that the Answers World Championship was ever yours. How your fallacies and passionate rage will only consume you in due time, P.B. - for Lannister's current of absolution always finds a way to be the rising tide of truth. A run of the mill that grinds your empathy and desire down to the atoms. But don't let Lannister's words be the course of the belief, let the reckoning that Lannister has bestowed upon the Showdown kingdom, ever since he set his ambition towards its toll. From Matt Ryder, Zack Crash, Tiberius Jones, Lioncross - all the way down to you, Pizza Boy - Lannister has conquered the land in full. Lannister admires your continuous resiliency, as you have willingly come back for more - and in your view, a proper encounter this time forward. But let Lannister serve as soothsayer, and proclaim to your likeness that your base of an argument is soon to come to no avail. All your cheerleading, all your petty words, your self-righteousness - will come to crash and burn at King of Elite.

You've spoken in a manner that would like to suggest that if Lannister had cashed in the "fair" way,  that The Pizza Boy would be reigning as Showdown's champion. But that is exactly why Lannister is looking forward to this stake of high risks, this challenge from just not one, but two overachievers. Lannister shall bring a halt to all the white noise that surrounds the controversy of his stature once and for all. So perhaps it is time, now more than ever, to lay down the masks that have since been said in this facade, and let the chips fall where they may. But let Lannister be the first to say, he warned you, if they happen to lead you astray and shelled. For there is no atonement to be had in this madness you pursue, this wave of self-assurance. You've led yourself to believe that Lannister is one to run. How foolishly naive, and bitterly convenient for you to state such an preposterous generality.

For Lannister is The Disciple of War, The Elite Lord, The Keeper of the Reign... and EAW's Champion of Champions!

Lannister is not bothered by your presence enough to run away from it, for until showcased, you shall remain a non-threat to Lannister's stature of means. So continue on with this casting Lannister in negative light, it will prove feeble, just like the five minutes of fame that you call your own. This is a casting of the ages, in truth, one that prepares for the ancient wisdom of Lannister's self-serving accord. Nothing is more self-satisfying to Lannister than applying pressure upon those that linger, either physically or simply through their harbored illusions. And you have lingered long enough upon the ideals of calling yourself the Answers World Champion. Let Lannister take this burden from you once and for all, and squash the dream-like sequence that has since flowed through your subconscious. You may no longer be the underdog, but you surely aren't the one in Lannister's favor, either. It will be Lannister's honor to humble the Pizza Boy from his newly formed perception. That's what Lannister does best, after all - serving as the lone man in EAW history to ever humble the Bastard of Vendetta.

But he is only one name out of many, isn't that right Tyler Parker?

Oh yes, dear old "friend" - don't think Lannister has forgotten to sing in tune about you. But don't mind Lannister, he forgets from time to time, of the psychological damage that he displayed on you over the last couple of months. You had it damned in your mind, after all, that it would be you to cling to the title "Disciple of War". But petty. Lannister stood in your way then, and he stands in your way now. How frustrating it must be, for Lannister to continuously serve as a roadblock to all your worldly desires. But you and The Pizza Boy have more in common than either of you would like to lead on - and this is just the most glaring of examples. Lannister won't speak far too long in the past, no, because there are greater horizons to broaden the outlook towards. But nonetheless, it is useful to recollect once and awhile, let the speck of time serve as a testament of Lannister's sudden surge to his ranking, to his status. It all started with you, Tyler Parker. You and your unrelenting pride. And look where that got you THEN. Lannister can't help but wonder, what makes you think this time will be different? You are still the same petty of a man that Lannister had come to align against then, but just now with a tail straggling between the legs. And Lannister himself has only gone on to embark on even greater challenges - and foes - since those rivaled days. Which is why Lannister showcased no surprised look when you seemed too deeply eager to team up with Lannister this past week alone. Lannister played along for a little while, just to see how far you would go with it - but when it became too apparent that you were fixated on being Lannister's ally, he just simply had to pull the plug on the whole ordeal. Even to a man like Lannister, it'd be cold to leave you hanging onto the idea that there would somehow be a synergy between us. So Lannister put it as painfully clear as he usually does - and lifted you high into the air, on a date with the infamous Feuer Frei.

Now Lannister is sure you are destined to speak some ill-advised words Lannister's way, but that matters not. Because Lannister sees the motive behind it all - and would come to realize it's just the envy speaking. Feel free to admit that Lannister was just one step ahead, Parker. Lannister would bet on house money that you had the stars perfectly aligned in your head, when given the opportunity - Strike Lannister when least expected. But a pity, once more, Lannister again serves as the thorn. Perhaps you and Lannister are destined to serve the re-occurring roles than previously thought. Lannister is not one to complain, obviously, and neither should you, because after all - you are receiving a world championship opportunity that you have longed to even deserve. Your affiliation with The Pizza Boy serves as a detriment to Lannister's odds, but even then he cannot be fazed by it all. While you have the Pizza Boy to thank to why you are even being awarded this opportunity at all - it will be Lannister that delivers the enlightening truth on the trending slope of your once promising career. Lannister sees it in your eyes, Parker - the light in your eyes has never burned so low. And perhaps the superficial beings of the EAW land have called upon Lannister in this troubling time, to extinguish this flame and burden from you once and for all. Or perhaps, you welcome the chance to be in the spotlight one final time, much to the credit of being Lannister's sacrificial lamb. Or maybe, just maybe - you see this as the opportunity for war, the opportunity to make amends for the troubled sins, the breakdown of what was once your own ascendance. But let Lannister be clear, and let him say it just once - Only HE is the one that brings war home. For there is no war to end all wars, just the means to wage it. And Lannister is simply a man that embodies war, molded by its shade. There is a price to pay, Tyler Parker - Pizza Boy - for seeking justice of your own afflictions.

And it is the Lannister price, that comes to the end's meet. Heed these warnings, in a state of red flags - serve the Lannister banner and sigil as nothing less than absolution - and perhaps, just perhaps - these regards Lannister sends will not fall upon deaf ears. But Lannister expects that the convergence of ambitions are only bound to collide, so collide they shall.

And when they do, it will be Lannister that puts an end to these two usurpers and their unfortunate conquests...

ALLES FUR LANNISTER... LANNISTER... LANNISTER!... In this power to be dare.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 10:41 pm by J-Dynasty 2?
There is a famous quote shrouded in mystery of who truly said it, but typically it is represented by a young royal who when confronted with the famine of her people and how they had no bread only had one thing to say in response. Now this isn’t particularly how I intend to rule, unless I am angered by the masses, but it is a way I intend to respond to the likes of Jamie O’Hara. For when she was told her people had no bread, and I’d like to lean on the interpretation that she was crueler in the mind rather than slower, she said they could eat cake! So when O’Hara says he needs this crown that is soon to be mine,

I say, let him eat cake!

Let O’Hara have a world championship!

Let O’Hara main event Pain for Pride!

Let O’Hara become a hall of famer!

All the while knowing, a sword of Damocles is hanging over his head that will likely make sure that never happens, and I know damn well there are great punishments in store for O’Hara on Dynasty if he doesn’t get the job done. That doesn’t give me pause, no. That makes this all the more sweet!

I just can’t wait until I slap you upside that bald head of yours, Jamie. In fact, I don’t know how it didn’t occur to me sooner, but I really hate all of you bald bastards. Fuck Lannister for taking CITV. Fuck Nico Borg for saving Ares’ championship reign! And especially fuck you Jamie O’Hara, fuck you for getting all the spoils in this world only to mess it all up while I had to scratch and claw to where I am, and fuck you for thinking you can now stop me when I am oh so close to ultimate supremacy! I am going to be a sovereign of this company! You can fight O’Hara, just like you can look up from the ground begging for mercy only for your face to be stomped on. You can fight O’Hara, just like you can run desperately towards the finish line only to be tripped up by a malcontent before the finishing line. You can fight O’Hara, but you will fail at gaining anything from the fleeting struggle you put on in that fight of yours! People always fight, they fight the passing of time with their vanity pleasing products like makeup or motorcycles, but the hands of time move on forward. People fight, they cling to life on their hospital beds and anything to stay alive, but you know what comes in the end. You can fight me, but my crowning achievement will be putting an end to that fight of yours.
I’m not like the others. It may not look like it all the time, in fact sometimes some might think I’m less driven than the others because I kick back, I have fun, and I’m just not the type of person everyone can get their finger on because I refuse to conform to the typical attitudes of EAW. But I am more than them. I don’t quit. I don’t falter. I don’t break down, and my emotions never get the better of me. I’ll do anything to get ahead, I’ll pretend to be Mr.CITV just to create the idea that maybe I should be, no matter how many idiots started thinking I had lost my mind instead of playing games to get my way. I’ll put on a thousand masks, and remove them when need be to reveal my true character, I’ll smile in your face and then knock your teeth out the in the next moment. O’Hara, you’ve always had something coming to you, and never knew it until now. In these misty dark alleys, you’ve had the pleasure of evading my presence for so long, but thankfully for me right before the fog is lifted and my castle is revealed, I get to put a dagger in your side.

As for Drastik, you’re quite the funny guy with your talk of the college system and confusing people for your age, you’re a regular Jonah Hill if you catch my drift in all the ways, but this isn’t a Jump Street movie where false bravado is going to get you the prized trophy wife championship or have you narrowly escape all the dangerous people you’ve come to cross at the wrong time. You ask why I don’t seem to take you as a threat? It’s because I’m the brazen beast, I may be cognizant that you have some skills, but I’m far from being forced to deviate from my nature and all of sudden have cold feet because you’re trying to sham the slickest person on the EAW roster. It’s a wonder that you’re still trying to get all these little things into my head, it’s like you don’t get that I play by an entirely different scoreboard than most of this roster. What matters to most of you, what keeps you up at night, and what you think matters, mean little to me. You think you bully me? Others have given you that position against them, but only the weak get bullied, the strong only see “bullies” as pests with fragile egos. The fact you even consider yourself a bully is a detriment to yourself, tell me of one adult, one great fighter or athlete, who goes around proclaiming themselves a bully? What is this, a jungle gym where you’re hanging kids by their underwear and trying to steal people’s lunch money because mommy and daddy didn’t have enough love and money to give you? Ha, maybe there was more to what that kid was saying, you really are out of place for your age. Much like how you’re meant to be a legend, yet you had to enter this tournament for stars to be. Thing is Drastik, maybe the system ain’t broke, maybe it’s a matter of fact that you despite all the bluster and noise, just don’t cut it.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 9:23 pm by Mr. DEDEDE
And lo, dear lad, I tell you so: while I bear the world's weight on my back, I too ignore your muffled sobs on the world's shoulders.

For you have cried and cried and cried! "Poooooooooor miiiiiiiiii, forgotten by this world, dismissed by my peers, whatever shall I do!?!??

Aha, of course! I shall fill my belly with tasty treats, cream filled delicacies and self-righteous indignation until I balloon into a man with so-called "purpose!" Yes, purpose I shall have, because it is purpose I seek! Therefore I must antagonize the Zen Guardian Methuselah who has done me no wrong at all; he is simply a man who had beaten me, utterly, and proved me of being a fraud.... A FRAUUUUUUUD, a charlatan indeed! For he has made me into a fool, and retribution I will now seek!

But little do I know, it is not simply Methuselah who I have trifled with! It is the Lord of Flies himself, the God of Numbers for whom he serves, for whom he has been the leading paladin in the first line of defense when waging war against all who opposeth him! And as the dominoes fall, I find that I have put at risk much more than my own reputation! I have put at risk every morsel of what brings me any sense of purpose and meaning, for I hath incited the wrath of a deranged madman caught in his fantasies who, at the tug of a beard and bulge of the eye, undergoes a metamorphosis from a kindred spirit to a wrathful, spiteful, warmongering angry dragon! From soothing spirit to serpent! From peacekeeper, to punisher! And he forgives me not, even though I know not what I do."

Thus Spoke Xavier Williams.

There, I have spoken the truth for you! You, after all, have done nothing but lie. Now that I have your attention, understand that I laugh. Aye, I laugh, at every rotten vowel and every putrid word you spout from your tart eating dunghole of a mouth. Haha! Guffaw Guffaw! Indeed I chortle - in nearly rapturous glee - at every statement of contempt you sling my direction. A wonder how your stones you so sling do not fall back into your face, be it how I am so far above you. I digress; i CHORTLE, because I can see the venom in your words. It is venom that can be found beneath the fangs of the deadliest snake, bottled up and stored into a needle and injected into my veins until it enters my circulates through me! I smell and taste the venom. But I've developed an immunity. The words of weak, desperate men like you who have only remnants of a once respected and widely admired name. Now merely a sideshow exhibit in my Awesome tale.

Trifling with you has, by many accounts been, a vapid waste of time. A waste of Plord's time. Because I truly gain nothing from you worth flaunting. Relish, I may, in your punishment aside, you have had nothing for me to take. You contribute little to Plord's overall scheme. You are merely sport. At this point, Xavier, I can compare thee almost to a late blooming errand. My vendetta is not with you, for there is no vendetta for me to be had! I take only serious issue with the insolence you have shown my Lord. You have risen from the bowels of obscurity to challenge the "devolved, farcical God" or as you so specifically say, the "joke". If I am a joke, lad, you must be the punchline. Oho! You seem to have fallen for the joke! You are the subject of the riddle! Guffaw guffaw guffaw! Oh look, you have made the Soothsayer chuckle. You are a funny man Xavier Williams, shall I compare thee to a comedic device? And by comedic device, I mean device of comedic value who shall bring Plord joy and tickle him down to his teensy weensy toes when the sight of your laying, grotesque remains are plastered to the canvas.


You will have to forgive my blatant loss of bearings, my kneels cannot help but buckle when I think of your influence over Rex McAllister. I am weak. I am fainting. I am deceased. I have died! I hath been slain! May I rise again on the third day like Christ for I have been slain by your awesome might! On behalf of all who dwell the Land of Elite; thank you Xavier, thank you for your contributions. And yes, of course, moons ago I said there were none two more skilled in our craft than you or I. I suppose this means we must erect a statue of you in every corner and gather around a golden idol made in your image and kneel before it, for your contributions must never be forgotten, and you must never be forgotten!

I have misjudged you Xavier. Or perhaps I've judged you well. Perhaps, just as you have given, you have also taken. A man takes from one to give to another every day he draws breath and exhales following that very same breath. Let the basics of Buddhism serve as a brief guideline. The first noble truth in Buddhism is suffering, and one must suffer a great amount simply to 'give', as suffering must occur in order to 'take'. One cannot exist without the other, and while you have been the cause of many a man's suffering, you have also understood the pain and suffering that comes equipped with loss. And the sensation drives you to take more. That is why you have so much to take from me, in your mind. But you are a man with so much more to lose than I. I have proven to you that some of what I have, simply cannot be taken, even by might. However you have come for me regardless, which is why I believe you to be an utter fooll. Any man can want, for every living being possesses some form of desire. But to have what others want... that exists on a different plane entirely. For example, I want McKenzie. I want your precious little dove. I lust, and I crave, and I desire and want her. I want to see the horror on her face, and the pain in her eyes, as she understands that her fool of a father was not the hero she once thought him to be. I want her to wake from her slumber at night and scream not for her precious poppa, but for anything else, anyone else, because I want her to know that her father can never truly save her. 

Nothing can save her. As nothing can save you you.

Not from sin. There is no end to sin. And there is nothing that can save you from the comeuppance you will face for the sins you have yet to commit. You cannot simply be raptured from entropy. You must embrace the hellfire that surrounds you until you can resist it and form an immunity - even if the hellfire burns within like the feeling in your veins when a noxious lethal substance flows through your bloodstream. Little McKenzie must know the futility of your fight against the requital that comes with every misdoing of yours, and every vindictive deed you have and ever will commit.

Perhaps that is why I still take up the name Methuselah, it allows me to be the executioner. Not the judge, for your choices have condemned you to the proper punishment you will received. Not the jury, for you know in your heart of hearts you are a guilty, sinful being, and you have chosen your path. I enjoy being the executioner, without a conscience, without remorse, who can spill your blood by the buckets to the streets beneath you and let not a single drop bear on his conscience. And nothing that i do to you at King of Elite will sit on my conscience. I will rest peacefully in slumber that evening. 

Then again I myself am not without sin... Come to think of it, I have committed the most sins of all. Aye... very well... even if my very own demons are what cause me to wake in a cold sweat under the pale moonlight - at least the screams of your precious daughter reverberating through my head will lull me back to sleep.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 9:11 pm by Victor Maero

Maero pushes the door to the into the arena on the Sanatorium grounds with a squeak. He breaths in the damp air and drops the large bag on his shoulder to the concrete ground with a thud. He walks over to the padded part of the floor nearer to the arena and begins to take off his unnecessary clothing and change into his ring gear.

“I was unaware I was fighting a broken record player.” Maero adjusts his leg guards with a grunt. “I was scared of you McAdams. Really, I was. But this version of you, not so much. You don’t scare me like this. This isn’t you, this is angst, this is disgust, this isn’t the gentleman I feared and respected. You won’t beat me like this. No, no, no. What you will do is piss me off. I have fantastic memories of a great wrestler named Jon McAdams, but he isn’t the man I’m going to be fighting at King of Elite. I’m going to be fighting a rich prick who thinks money makes the man. News flash Draco Malfoy, it's not about money. And even if it was that wouldn’t matter. I’m a doctor, I was a doctor and I still am one. I keep a house full of children afloat. I’m not exactly in poverty. You’re so ego centric you can’t even see that other people might deserve something more than the man with six hyphens in his bank account. To you this is a hobby, to me this is my life. This is the life that I chose. I could’ve stayed at the hospital, I could’ve been a therapist, I could’ve done a lot of things. But I ended up on the battleground, and I don’t regret a fucking second of it. I’ve been scared, scarred, and broken, but I kept coming back for more. Not a second was wasted talking about how the world was against me or whatever you want to call that complaining that not complaining. Come on man, just open your eyes. Facts and excuses are vastly different. The Sanatorium was never in the ring when we fought, that’s a fact. EAW stacked the fight against you so I would win, that’s not only complete bullshit and we both know it, but it’s a big fat excuse for your own shortcomings. We’ve all got them, McAdams. No reason not to say you do. Find where you’re weak and improve it. That’s how I got here. I lost, and learned, over and over again. You won and learned nothing. Now you’re fighting someone that has exactly what you don’t, experience in blood and violence.” Maero walks up to the cage that surrounds the ring and tugs on it. He pulls some barbed wire from the bag he brought and then walks over to a corner where a punching bag hands from a low rafter. He begins rapping the barbed wire around it.

“I managed to beat you in a fluke three times? I managed to win a fight against a man who hadn’t been in the ring for the last 30 minutes by luck? Wow, I must be real fucking lucky. Especially to be born with this fucking mind. Someone like me doesn’t have luke, instead, I have the devil in me. I have demons clawing at my insides every second of every day. This place is where they run free, where I run free. You don’t need to be here? Neither do I, I choose to be. This is where my home is, this is where I feel alive. You want to tame the savages? Show me you speak our language. The language of sanguine and death, the language of war and torment. Show me you speak the language of pain, and maybe, just maybe I’ll respect you again. But for now, you will be given the same amount of respect you give me, and that ain’t much. Just keep repeating how I’m a thief Dora the McAdams, because once you say “Maero no Thief-ing” three times I’ll stop. Come on, I thought you cultivated your brain. All I’m hearing is threats from a brute who claims to be my superior without ever proving it. You just talk about how not scared of me you are, not about how I’ve beat you, not about how classless you’ve been, not about I am the Hardcore champion. Allow me to inform you of something: You don’t have to be scared of me, I just recommend it. But fear me or not, I’ll still walk out of King of Elite still Hardcore champion. While you held this title you deserved it, I even stuck my neck out for you when Nathan Fiora bashed you, but now you call me names and say I’m not worthy. I believed in you when very few others did, and now I’m the fucking bad guy? No, I won’t let that go unpunished. My respect was betrayed, and you’re going to regret seeing what I do to people that betray me. Ask Masahiro… remember him? No, because I ended his career before you ever arrived. He betrayed me, so I ended him.” Maero finishes rapping his punching bag before walking over to the bag he brought and removing the Hardcore title with his bloody palm l stained still on it. He walks back over to his punching bag and looks over his title.

“I once had someone ask me if I thought me killing people made me hardcore. I don’t. My killing isn’t something to make me seem scary, it’s not something to wow the viewers, or to intimidate my enemies. It’s a compulsion, it’s something I love to do.  My hunting has nothing to do with you, you egotistical bastard. As some have said, I’m a sadistic, masochistic, sociopath. Are you sure you want to fight the Crazy that holds the Hardcore title, “your” title?” Maero puts the title down next to his punching bag. He begins kick boxing against the barbed wire covered punching bag ripping up his legs and arms.

“All I hear you saying is “Noooo! I’m not like that. You’re so wrong.” Am I wrong? Is there more on the agenda or are you going to keep being in denial at every turn? Because a true gentleman admits his faults. For example, I clearly miss counted my victories against you. I’ve won three times and lost… none. The issue is that every fight we’ve had has ended in basically the same way, me walking away victorious. I don’t see myself as a big man McAdams, but I don’t underestimate myself anymore, but I do know my limits. Unlike you. You keep coming back for more after I’ve proved I’m the one who is a class above in this relationship. So please, just give me some space, you’re too clingy. Take your foamless mocha latte half soy milk half regular from Starbucks to your mom's house, I don’t need that kind of complication in my life. You’re like a broken phone charger, the same thing keeps happening, you plug your phone in and it charges for like two seconds before sending you the message that your phone is on low battery… I KNOW! I just want to charge my phone and I have to discover a new dimension to find the shape the cord needs to charge. In the end, you decide to turn it into a fucking noose. Anyway, the similarity is that you keep saying the same thing over and over again. Except instead of saying my battery is low you’re saying I’m a thief, it’s like owning a police radio where they bleep out every name and replace it with yours. It’s tedious. I’m ready to be in that ring so I can shut your repetitive mouth. God, I’ve made the point that you’re repetitive so many times it’s starting to repeat. Oh god, you’re contagious.” Maero kicks the bag sending it back, it returns with huge recoil that Maero sidesteps before picking up his title and walking into the cage containing the ring. He looks over his cut up arms and legs as he speaks.

“No self-control? Faux Confidence? First of all, look who’s talking. Secondly, what? I was a doctor, that’s a real impulsive job ain’t it. I take care of children regardless of the demons I’ve talked about and shown in the ring. I keep myself controlled until it’s time to loosen the chain and let out the beast. My confidence isn’t fake, it comes from experience. Where is yours coming from? Me beating you three times now? This is my year McAdams, you won’t sabotage that. You’re not part of my path anymore, you’re just in the way. Come back when you’ve brought back the McAdams I knew and respected, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll scare me again. I didn’t ruin my title, I just showed you what it was always meant to mean. It is a title built on suffering and bone. I hold this title on a mound of corpses, not some posh restaurant with a glass of brandy and a cigar. Hardcore doesn’t mean posh, it means blood, it means rage, it means war.” Maero slides into the ring and holds looks over the title with a bloody grin.

“No matter how foolish you are, no matter how much you ignore your defeats, no matter how many boring insults you hurl at me, it won’t matter, because in that ring I am free, in that ring I am home. Pop quiz: do you know what my home is?” Maero smiles as he rests his title on his shoulder and licks his lips. The scene fades to black.

“Welcome to hell.”
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 5:55 pm by Drastik
(The scene starts with a mass of people walking out of what seems to be a classroom. Drastik is one of the last people out, shoving papers into a bag and tossing it over his shoulder. He waves toward the camera and then swings his arm out to invite the cameraman to walk with him. The cameraman tries to object because moving shots without any sort of expensive camera equipment makes his job harder, but Drastik doesn’t really care. He pats the guy on his shoulder and clears his throat, looking ahead before looking back at the camera and talking in a casual tone.)
Sorry for not getting right back to you guys. I realized as soon as Jamie O’Hara mentioned it that I do indeed have lysdexia—I mean dyslexia. I’m still trying to cope with the realization. Next thing you know someone’s going to run a DNA test on me and tell me that I’ve got Irish ancestry when I’ve lived my whole life as a good little Cambodian boy. But that’s another midlife meltdown for another day and another opponent. What I realized when Jamie said that wasn’t that he’s resorted to trying to call me dumb or something—because who needs logic when you can just call people names right?—but that I needed to get help. So I took his very subtle advice and enrolled into the Dyslexic Institution for Challenged Kids, otherwise known as…well you’re going to think that I’m trolling if I say the abbreviation, but I really just got out of class for it and they really did give me a cool nametag that I foolishly flopped letter clumsily around. And you know what we talked about today? We talked about how our disabilities don’t define us—how anyone who tries to dangle that disability in front of us as means to put us down just aren’t people we should listen to! So you know what? Screw you. You shouldn’t be making fun of me or Nick Angel or Liam Catterson for our learning disabilities. And any mention of it moving forward is only going to trigger me. You’ll immediately be reported to RH—Human Resources—wait, I mean HR. Goddamnit. Maybe I should just get to what actually matters. You’ve admitted to growing tired of this little game, and quite honestly, it’s showing more and more as time goes on and this discussion thickens. But what makes me laugh about that is that you’ve got an option that’s totally fine by me—you can just stop. You can stop preparing. You can stop responding. You can let me run my mouth and let me be the center of attention all the time since that’s what you really think of me—and trust me, since you mentioned it, I promise you that I’ll still find a way to talk about things even if dialogue turns into a true monologue. And when you’re all rested up and recharged from not having to engage me, you can lose outright. I’m not sure if you forgot this process, but this is how things work here. This is process every single time you’ve got a match here. And if you don’t like it—if it wears on you so much that you just need to stop—then maybe you’re even less cut out for this than I originally thought. Just so we’re crystal clear here, I’ve already forgiven you for mixing up your information and stuff. Hell, I even sent you the care package and used express shipping. So now you’ve got my merchandise, my autobiography, my DVD, and all that stuff. I even gave you a signed 8x10 since I’m sure if you have a kid, they’re a Drastik fan more than a Jamie O’Hara fan, so they should appreciate it. I’ve given you all the tools to learn almost everything about me so that you don’t need to rummage through the jungle that is Google or Wikipedia to find out how to spell my name or what my resume looks like. It’s all right there. Maybe I’m not yet convinced that you have it in you to actually USE any sort of tools to be able to succeed in something, but, hey, at least I can rest easy knowing that I set you up for it. And if not, you can just flip those items on craigslist and get a couple bucks or something. Maybe invest in Rogaine. I don’t know.
I should have stated this before, so I follow up my forgiveness with my own apology. Yes, I haven’t ALWAYS been the same kind of consistent that I was talking about when it comes to how I go about things. Though I was talking about the consistency of SUCCESS—which is absolutely, undeniably applicable to my career—I will agree that the Rated R Shaman of Sexy who won his third World Heavyweight Championship after his retirement-turned-hiatus was a whole lot different than the Drastik that came in and manipulated the machine to run the way he wanted it to. Both versions of myself were consistent, but in two different ways. The first type of consistency that I was is actually the same kind of consistency that you’ve mentioned before. I’m talking about the kind of guy who shows up to work every day, smile on his face, ready to set down his lunch pail and get right to work. I used to be that guy that would show up and do everything I could to demonstrate that I was a hard worker and that I was going to earn things through my dedication and all that noble jazz. The second kind of consistency though—the kind of consistent I have become—is so much better. It’s tactful. Brooding. Mastering. It’s not the same as showing up to work every day and leaving with a sore back and tired feet, no, but it’s the kind that leaves others asking themselves why everyone doesn’t just do it that way. It’s a good question to have; why wouldn’t people give up their aches and their pains and the routine that sucks them of so much of their time when they can just get to the top faster the other way? The answer, Jamie, is that not everyone is capable of being the second kind of consistent. So few are able to flip that switch on and off and on and off and on and off with the system still working the way it did before. But as I’ve proven, it works for me. I don’t bring up this consistency because I’m looking to be praised for it. I don’t expect people to look at me as some sort of philosophical genius that’s cracked the code and reinvented the way that people do business here. The only reason I mention it at all is because I’m answering the same fundamental question that we’ve all been trying to answer this week: Why am I a threat? Why am I the one in the best position to win? That, I have an answer for too—I’m the biggest threat because I’ve proven it over and over and over again. That’s why consistency matters. I honestly don’t know where the dyslexia comment came from—or what it even really means—but in regards to that message that came out of left field, I’ll tell you outright that I wasn’t saying your New Breed Championship run ran right up against your “needed” loss. I didn’t think that they happened back to back. I was saying that from the moment you went on your little New Breed Championship victory run, you let your mindset become so warped and your being so entitled that it carried all the way up to your elimination chamber match. I’m still not buying that you went into that match knowing that you needed to lose, just like TJ mentioned, but I won’t get into that the way he did. What I will say, though, is thank you. Thanks for the heads up on directing me to where you started talking about me. Just, in the future, I’d really appreciate it if you started your package off with that. Could you? Or maybe even just do one of those DVD chapter setup things where I can skip ahead? I’m trying to listen to as little of your voice as I can get away with. It’s tough for us guys with learning disabilities. Thanks!
(Drastik comes up to the top of a set of stairs before telling the cameraman to get a good shot. He sits down on the top of the railing and slides down very slowly before getting to the bottom and jumping off. He holds out his hands to show off and some kid runs into his arm. The kid remarks, “Aren’t you a little old to be going to school still?” Drastik yells at the kid saying that his interpretation of the American school system is fundamentally flawed because it’s restricted to the idea that college must come immediately after high school and remain uninterrupted during the duration of four years there. The kid doesn’t respond and keeps walking. Drastik calls for the cameraman to come down the steps as they keep walking.)
All right, I know I just came to grips with my dyslexia, but I’m going to try to match you, Tiberius. I’m going to make my own anagram for what I think makes up a king. Ready? Here we go. “K” is for “Kleenex” because Tiberius has cried about how unfair I am in almost every video package he’s thrown together. “I” is for “Intimidated” because the future-king turned boy has seen where he’s headed from the get-go. “N” is for “Nuisance” because that’s what you’ve continually tried to pin me as. And “G” is for “GONNA LOSE AT KING OF ELITE” because, well, you’re going to lose in the finals to me, whether I decide to pin you or Steve Irwin’s ugly nephew. Did I do that right? I hope so. I really hope Jamie doesn’t make fun of me for having a learning disability again after this. But I’ll keep the ball rolling and maybe he’ll just gloss over it. Tiberius, I actually really liked the story that you referenced about the leader who had fooled everyone into believing that he had power. And for the most part, I agree with you that you’re the child in that story. You see things honestly and innocently. You speak your mind and don’t hold back. You bring that youthful energy while still showing at least an ounce of respect for people who have come before you because you’re naturally obedient. But my question is this: why is this any different? What happened to honestly and genuinely analyzing a situation? If you’re so confident in your ability to point out the frauds from the legitimate threats, then shouldn’t you know that I am the biggest threat to you becoming King of Elite? Why don’t you see what I’m doing to you? You’ve devolved into a little boy throwing temper tantrums while I bully you. And worse yet, it appears that you’re lying to yourself now. If you really are as great at realizing the degree of things, then you would know better than to question what I bring to this match. It’s either that you’re lying to yourself for the sake of your own hope or you really have no idea what you’re talking about and that story of the boy and the fragile emperor is nothing more than just another story to be read before you drift off into sleep.
I don’t have any gold on my shoulders or around my waist right now, no. Not one of us in this match does. And it’s not because I’m not capable or you’re not capable or Jamie’s not capable—I definitely think that all three of us are of championship caliber because we have PROVEN that we stand above the rest of our brand in some capacity by making it to this match. So in the same token, that’s why we’re all here—to get gold to place around our waist in the near future. This is meant to be a stepping-stone to greater things. I could have ignored the opportunity that was King of Elite and kept my eye on the Hardcore Championship instead if I wanted immediate gold. I guess I could have even turned my attention to something else, like maybe a Hall of Fame Championship run since the list of contenders for that is so short. But in truth, none of those things really matter to me anymore because I’ve become fixated on dominating this industry by forcing its hand in making me the poster boy. My focus is on the very top of the ladder—world championships. Settling for less comes across as settling to everyone else watching. But standing tall as world champion? Who says you’re settling then? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: when I came here and immediately went for the Hardcore Championship, it wasn’t because I was sitting at home, watching my television, and thinking, “Man it’d be cool to hold a leather strap with a gold-brushed plate on it again.” I didn’t go for the Hardcore Championship because I thought people would be in shock and awe of my ability to come back and win a championship that has pretty much floundered since 2009. I won it because it put my name in the mix—because it put me in line to eventually get here. It got me in the King of Elite bracket. It got me all the way to this point. And it’s going to take me to eventually cashing in my crown so I can become world champion once again. One move will always connect to the next for me, and that’s always how it’s going to be. Even when I win the world championship for the sixth time in my career, I’m going to make sure to take that to newer heights, to further strengthen my lesson that I am the disease that infects and controls Elite Answers Wrestling. I hold EAW’s fate in my own hands. And instead of doing anything outright with it, I’m going to make sure to toy with it as much as I possibly can before I decide that enough is enough and it’s time to head back home for a little bit. You know the drill. Come on in. Succeed. Show them who their daddy is. Skedaddle. It’s what I do. It’s what I’ll always do. Oh—and before I go, I agree that we shouldn’t talk about dates anymore. This whole thing about setting down our “performing” selves for the sake of discussing what’s real and not real hurts my head a lot. This is the reason I kept leaving Philosophy 101 early. I just can’t handle that weight, man. And besides, scheduling isn’t my thing anyways since I’m from Votlage. After all, I just keep a stretch of dates open, shrug my shoulders, and wait for my phone to ring to know whether I’m supposed to be wrestling on Sunday night, Monday night, or Tuesday night. So yeah. Random thought, but I wonder how Scott Oasis has been…
(The cameraman jolts out from behind the camera and quickly stops Drastik from continuing down the path he’s likely headed toward. Thankfully for the cameraman, a bus comes up right at the moment Drastik is going on one of his tangents. They go to get on the bus, but Drastik tells the cameraman to stay where he’s at so they can end the package with Drastik waving from the back window. The cameraman objects because he would have to wait for the next bus, but Drastik is insistent that he’ll tell the bus driver to stop and let him get on just down the road. The cameraman agrees and they go through with it. Drastik is shown waving from the back window, but the bus keeps on going down the road until it disappears from sight. The cameraman sighs heavily before turning off the camera. And then—bitch you guessed it—solid white text flashes across the screen. How bow dah?)
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 5:36 pm by Carson Ramsay
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Can you please take a lengthy breather in between sentences, Nasir? Or do you just relish the sight of bullshit spewing out of your mouth too much for that? Either way, just stop it. Stop making a fool of yourself. Stop cooking up these rah-rah speeches thinking it would be able to depict you a more serious threat in my eyes. Stop pushing across the hero facade like there is a snow ball's chance in hell of anyone outside the confines of your pubescent fanbase falling for it. Or don't, I couldn't care less. As long as you refrain from weeping about the fun people poke at you. It's no secret that you've been awfully vocal about not being taken seriously enough by peers and fans alike for months now, Nas. Bitching, moaning and complaining; the holy trinity. But have you ever stopped to ponder their motive? Maybe, and take this with a grain of salt, they see through you like a castle made out of glass. Maybe there are folks out there who think with their brains instead of their hearts and can easily distinguish the phony from the real deal. I for one can do both. I mean, seriously, today was the first time you parted lips to speak about King of Elite and what did you do? You spend a couple of hours feeding your audience some sanctimonious gibberish that's seemingly supposed to "inspire" but really, it just made you out to look like a complete dumbass. Your first mistake was using our relationship to fuel your lust for sympathy; thus, painting yourself the martyr (as per usual) and me, the bad guy. Not that I have a problem with being labeled as such, it's the way that you went about doing it that doesn't sit right with me. Yeah, once upon a time, you and I were friends. Best friends, even. We carpooled together, closed bars together and caused mischief wherever we went. We both shared similar perspectives of the business as well, although they differed in nature. And we both strived to lead Voltage into a new and better age where the washed-up was no longer allowed royalties pertaining to their past stature. Do you see a pattern taking shape here? All of those aforementioned facts belong outside the realm of a wrestling ring. We might have been good pals before the show but once it gets on the air, we're EAW Elitists. Competitors, willing to go to hell and back in order to assert their dominance and prove their supremacy. The fact is, success in this industry doesn't stem from friendships. And yeah, I know that might be a hard pill to swallow. It doesn't change the fact that this is survival of the fittest. Every man and woman on this roster is in it for themselves. Why do you think tag teams don't last a lifetime? Scratch that, why do you think Aren's career was catapulted into the limelight as soon as he called it quits with you? He saw what you willingly blind yourself to. For what it's worth, it almost makes me sad to know that you view things the way you do, Nasir. The sole fact that you confirmed your inclination to live out the rest of your life in a fantasy world and under the assumption that sooner or later, reality will conform to the same norm, just shows how delusional you've grown to be. If that's not enough, Mister Moore went on to actually call ME jealous, envious even. Of who, you might ask? Why Mister Moore himself of course! Because there's so much to envy him for, right? Aside from the abundance of chances at carving a Hall of Fame worthy legacy that he proceeded to squander, that is. You did get one thing right in all of that talk, Nas; you are EXACTLY like the people you claim to be the choice of—whatever that means nowadays—as in you're all so... naive. Quick to jump to conclusions as well. I don't want your spot, pal. I never did. Why would I settle for a complacent man-child's place on the totem pole when my own is levels above it as it is? Let's face the facts; I'm better than you, Nas. I know it, everyone in the locker room knows it and deep down? You do too. The only reason why your career has managed to gain a lot of traction lately is because I wasn't around to nip it in the bud. The moment that I decided to put my foot down and do just that was the moment your stock plummeted. You went from vying for the opportunity to wrestle Y2Impact for the EAW Championship to facing me at King of Elite which, granted, is more of an upgrade than anything but still. Don't you get it, arkadaş? You're nothing more than a filler talent. You were added to large frays and big-time matches because the higher-ups needed a fresh, new lab rat to keep their product from obsolescence all the while maintaining the same Elitists formation since 2008. Don't get me wrong, you're a great wrestler and I'm taking anything away from your skills within the twenty-by-twenty scope. The thing is, you're not as great as you think you are. If you were, you'd already be a former EAW Champion by now. Instead you sit around, fishing for quotes that barely make sense in the context you throw them in, talking like you're hot on the heels of your twenty-fifth break-up. I never got that part. Why do you purposely mix personal feelings with business whenever the latter picks up? It's like you WANT me to utilize all the weaknesses that mar your flailing stint and absolutely humiliate you with them. I'm not going to do that though. Not out of the kindness of my heart, but because you do a better job at it than I ever could every time you flap your gums. 

I never took you for the type to put words in my mouth and twist those that actually came out of it, Nasir. Never once have I longed for the appreciation of your kind, nor have I felt entitled to anything that I didn't prove my worth of. Now admittedly, these past couple of months weren't necessarily my best. Every person has their share of bumps along the road and I was no exception. I find it ironic though, how you of ALL PEOPLE are stressing the setbacks that I faced when your entire life—not just career—is practically built on them. Pot calling the kettle black, if you ask me. But hey, at least I'm man enough to own up to it whereas you? You still chalk it up to that preachy, whatever-doesn't-kill-you-makes-you-stronger poppycock. One of the many differences that we share and one of the reasons why our "friendship" is probably not gonna see the light of day after this weekend. It's clear that you are indeed desperate for this win over me, Nas. Why else would you go as far as to draw lines of comparison between me and that traitorous scumbag named Kenny Drake and then laugh it off? You want to get under my skin so badly because disrupting my balance is your only chance at vanquishing me at King of Elite. Little do you know about your own "best friend", I'm not easily phased. Ice cold water runs through these veins of mine, boy. I would suggest you go back to the drawing board, but I'd be giving you false hope—and the last thing you need is another fantasy clouding your mind right now. It's bad enough that you consider yourself a hero; the one bestowed upon the land of elite to cleanse it of all the FILTH and spearhead it into better times! Jesus Christ, talk about too much Japanese cartoon watching. At this point, I honestly wish to see you get slapped back to reality before I die. That's how far-fetched such an occurrence is. Fret not though, I have a feeling it will happen sooner than expected. Say, as early as Saturday night? 

In digression, you're not a hero, Nas. You're not a knight in shining armor, you don't don a cape and you don't qualify as the prophet of the message that you constantly preach. And no, those are not a set of glass ceilings waiting to be shattered nor brass rings dangling down for you to grasp; those are the unchanging facts of life that you've chosen to sleep on for long enough. You said that you don't have anyone else but the people backing you up, and I couldn't agree more. Not only do you clamor for their adulation and support to feel better about yourself, but because you need it to still be employed. Simply put. Sadly, you don't offer much else to the table, Nasir. Merchandise sales are the only thing keeping your career afloat at the moment, whether you'd like to admit it or not. Which brings me to the point that you got entirely backwards; unlike you, I don't need people to help me stand up on my own two feet. Unlike you, I don't pander to the feebleminded by saying everything that would tickle their fancy, even when most of it is a bunch of lies. Unlike you, I know who I truly am. While you continue changing names, outfits and catchphrases, I'll continue changing opinions, records and history. While you carry on hoping and dreaming of sunshine and rainbows to fill up the sky, I'll carry on the climb up the mountain with rain pouring down my face and winds blowing in my back. A piece of advice? Stop thinking our match is gonna be another one of those feel-good fairytales where the underdog ultimately comes out on top. It won't. If anything, I'll see to it that it's your first contact back with the real world. I can't promise it'll be gentle, but I do promise that it will be memorable. 

You either die a hero, or live long enough to become the villain?

Well then, hero, prepare to meet your maker.

Last edited by Carson Ramsay on January 25th 2017, 6:38 pm; edited 1 time in total
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on January 25th 2017, 5:17 pm by Brian Daniels
Dr. Frankenstein spent countless amount of hours of perfecting the perfect monstrosity he had envisioned.

It took you one match to create the persona you see before you.

You tortured the carcass of Brian Daniels until he was twisted and mangled. His spirit was slowly dissolving, and there was nothing to prevent that. He fought for justice, but did not attain the justice he sought out for. It was the pure emotion of envy that drove Ares Vendetta to become incomplete. He dreaded the thought of Brian Daniels awakening his unconscious father --- opposed to showcasing the emotion every wrestler shares; greed. I had never intended to once quarrel with the son of my mentor. It was he, who had lit the fire, but continuously added gasoline to watch it grow larger. He had every intention of tossing myself into that enormous fire, and by the time we finally combated one another. The fire engulfed us both, leaving us to fight each other, while turning into ash. But it wasn't Brian Daniels that walked proudly out of that flame with only minor burns. It was Ares Vendetta, who had finally thought that it was the conclusion of the power struggle. But he thought wrong, he left the man he had despised since the moment his name was added to his flesh with ink just barely alive with lungs capable to breathe, with a heart that pumped blood through my veins, a brain with the instinct to survive. I crawled out of the surrounding fire, hanging on by only a thread, and I only had one thought on my mind; "return the favor". I spent ninety-two days, mending to my own wounds, healing my spirit, preparing myself to recreate that same very moment. But instead, the tables were turned around in my favor. I had Ares Vendetta exactly where I anticipated; cornered. He did everything in his power to prevent that very moment from ever occurring. He tried fleeing, he tried reviving a short-term alliance with Nico Borg, but there was no shield to protect him. No Rook, Bishop, Damien Murrow, or the Agents of Extreme to shield you from this unfortunate fate. I only took from you, a fraction of what you took from me. I would most certainly call that mercy. You'll get a percentage of your strength back in that one arm, but that only makes you lesser of the barbarian that you've always been.

There was never a time where putting you in the same exact wheelchair that your father sits in, ever slipped my mind.

I want you to suffer, but your suffering has been prolonged.

I know how cruel of a human being you are. You're not unique at all. There's plenty of cruel men that walk this earth. You're just a number among millions of them. I can be just as cruel as you, if not more. You can hurt people, because you just simply can. You've been doing this for far too long, and I only wonder the thought process of a cruel man --- when he's fatally wounded. Can you describe every emotion you went through? From the moment I returned at Road to Redemption, all the way to the barbed wire baseball bat shattering your fragile bone. I wanted to feel the same regret you must have felt, when you were fully aware that I wasn't dead yet. You're only standing, because that's exactly how I want you to be. I could have taken another arm, a leg, or two, but I left you in near mint condition, because it was far too easy then. You should be kissing the very ground I walk on, because I spared your quite disposable life. You can wrestle one more match, because you temporarily lost one arm. I allowed this menace to survive, because we were far from through with one another. I would say it's almost destiny, that we are to end this where kings are crowned. I don't really believe in destiny though. I believe you put yourself in whatever situation, because you did that for yourself. It almost seems as if I'm dictating your destiny, Ares. Your strange obsession with Brian Daniels has brought this about. I never once wanted your Answers World Championship. I've stated this time after time. If I really wanted that same title you carelessly disrespected --- I would have patiently waited for you to enter the match. But I was way too eager to get my hands on you. I cared not for the match that I competed in, but the man that had sidelined me for far too long. I guess you can say that, you've created a new obsession in myself. I'm obsessed with finishing my career on a high note, but I'm temporarily obsessed with Ares Vendetta's complete demise.
Re: EAW Promoz!
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