Post by Psychotic Circus on Nov 18, 2011 3:34:14 GMT -5
The camera began flickering before the main event even had a chance to get started, the arena cast into darkness with little regret. Fans shivered as the air turned chilly in their dark, frigid tomb, the chill of the grave is an experience no one can ever survive with their psych in tack. Soon enough, the titan tron blinked and fluttered back to life with an eerie smile beaming through the darkness.
"I've lost everything...."
The smile finally chimed in as GHW's fan base stared in awe. A rush of static breaks through the P.A system as the image of he who hath spoken appears within the fuzz. Jaggeroth sits at the edge of his wicker throne, arms in front of him with fists clamping shut repeatedly. His eyes were affixed to the weapons of mass destruction that were attached to his wrists as their clasps became tighter and tighter, his eyes began to break from his skull as his lips pursed. His lungs looked like they might have exploded had he tried any harder as his eyes bugged out. Suddenly, a giant roar breaks from his strained lungs and the bottle next to him goes flying at the wall behind him.
"I'VE FUCKING LOST EVERYTHING!"
The throne of the King is then lifted with great anger and furious intentions as it flies across the room, denting a wall before it lands in a broken mass across the concrete floor. Shit begins to soar across the sub basement hide out of the Time Killer as his bitch fit goes full circle. A laptop breaks against the floor, a television is found sticking out of a slab of dry wall and a fish tank with eels is splattered against the floor amongst other things.
"EVERY-LAST-FUCKING-THING-IS-GONE! MY TITLE SHOTS! MY CIRCUS! HELL, EVEN THE FUCKING HORDE UPT AND LEFT MY FUCKING ASS!"
The Monarch of the Malicious turns and faces the affixed camera in front of him, his teeth clenched with a crazed breath steaming past his flared lips. He walked closer, step by step with his arms out reached, looking like he wanted to give the entire world a bear hug from hell. He dropped to his knees with a heavy, seemingly, defeated thud. Gasps for air came from underneath the mask of flesh attached to his face.
"Have you ever been there? You know? The edge between complete sanity and bat shit crazy? No no no, I'm not talking about you getting the every day shaft from life, like bills or having to make a living, no no no. I'm talking everything finally begins to go your way, life finally starts I suck cocks with your miserable ass, then suddenly the roof comes down over your head and crushes everything, along with that tiny sparkle of love and affection you fought to obtain....Needless to say, the wife is gone, the Circus turned tails and ran, and I'm not sure, but I think I set the Horde on fire...not quite certain on that one, but it seems like something I would do to a bunch of jobbers. Dominik Santiago even went and embarrassed my ass, he fought against two men before me, then locked my ass in a casket after I lost track of what was more important. Even my house, the one place in the world where I feel safe and contempt enough to feel like my life actually has some meaning, was taken away from me in the divorce. THE BITCH DIDN'T EVEN LIKE LIVING IN NEBRASKA! I had a fucking whiskey palace built into the basement! And it was in the middle of no where with a kick ass cemetery near by that I could stalk, but no, I can't get even one measly victory in life that actually means something in the long run. And the final kick in the balls, my son is still dead...."
"I've decided something, a real life goal, something that will completely change the landscape of GHW...if I'm to live such a miserable coexistence between happiness and utter disappointment , then so shall everyone else! If I'm to only be a thorn in everyone's side, then so be it. I'll be the biggest fucking thorn you ever did see. And you'd better bite the pillow, because as Wolverina can attest, I always go in dry. Ollie Jay wasn't the first person to retire after a complete ass handing, and he certainly won't be the last. A few familiar faces have popped up in recent days and returned to this land of Gods and Heretics! Miss Cassady...you can sleep soundly this night, for you're not the goal this time, and never again will you be until I see fit to render your guts between my fingers. I've got an even better target, someone who's career has been so far up my ass I can smell the tender aroma of bad tea when he's near by, and now it's stronger than ever."
"Ryan Hughes, our match at TNT ended in a bullshit draw due to outside interference...or something, I don't know, the refs around here are fucking retarded. I've already talked it over with Grimey, and he agreed with me, we're gonna have one more match. Remember our first ladder match against each other? Remember how mad the fire marshal was because of the clutter we left behind in the middle of the match? Remember how we both smelled like cotton candy...oh, sorry, candy floss for weeks afterwards, with the distinct taste of blood mixed in with it?Remember EVPW? I don't want to, but it happened. You stole that match from me, and your career sky rocketed after that? And how I had to pick myself up after having my dick kicked into the dirt so many times? OR...OR...How I've had to crawl my way up to title shots, when you were handed them and branded the fucking poster boy, WHILE I HAD TO SIT IN THE LOW CARD, DECIMATING JOBBER AFTER JOBBER, LEGEND AFTER LEGEND TO FINALLY EARN THE RIGHT TO EVEN BE CONSIDERED FOR A TITLE SHOT!? Do you remember the good old days, Ryan? Hmmm? Remember how we used to be friends? Close friends...and then, one day, after a certain incident happened...you wouldn't ever talk to me after you had effectively destroyed what was left of my career? I haven't forgotten, Ryan. And I never will. Forgive and forget are two words that'll ever hold a place inside my thought patterns.
"I remember what you told me that day, when we first met...Dude, we're both going to go far here, why not do it together? We could be unstoppable!.....how stupid I feel for ever believing that. So it has been decided! Ryan Hughes, you're target number one! I have the contract sitting right there on the table behind me! All you have to do is mosey your big British ass on down here and sign it. You, me, blood runs cold. And I shouldn't even have to tell you what the match type is going to be, the cell is already sitting in storage across the street! Come down here Hughes...the past is something you can never run from, and you know as well as I do that you can't hide from me once I've set my eyes on you. No tricks, nothing in the way of pain, just come on down and sign your life away, because at Blood Runs Cold, your brain won't even be able to handle the pain I'm going to send your way! I'm going to beat you, maul you, break you and snap you on that night, until finally...your brain goes silent and your ego is laid to rest..."
TNT goes to commerical as Jaggeroth waits in his underground lair for the arrival of Ryan Hughes, his breath panting from his rant, and his eyes dead set on the goal in front of him.
TBCB: Ryan.
"I've lost everything...."
The smile finally chimed in as GHW's fan base stared in awe. A rush of static breaks through the P.A system as the image of he who hath spoken appears within the fuzz. Jaggeroth sits at the edge of his wicker throne, arms in front of him with fists clamping shut repeatedly. His eyes were affixed to the weapons of mass destruction that were attached to his wrists as their clasps became tighter and tighter, his eyes began to break from his skull as his lips pursed. His lungs looked like they might have exploded had he tried any harder as his eyes bugged out. Suddenly, a giant roar breaks from his strained lungs and the bottle next to him goes flying at the wall behind him.
"I'VE FUCKING LOST EVERYTHING!"
The throne of the King is then lifted with great anger and furious intentions as it flies across the room, denting a wall before it lands in a broken mass across the concrete floor. Shit begins to soar across the sub basement hide out of the Time Killer as his bitch fit goes full circle. A laptop breaks against the floor, a television is found sticking out of a slab of dry wall and a fish tank with eels is splattered against the floor amongst other things.
"EVERY-LAST-FUCKING-THING-IS-GONE! MY TITLE SHOTS! MY CIRCUS! HELL, EVEN THE FUCKING HORDE UPT AND LEFT MY FUCKING ASS!"
The Monarch of the Malicious turns and faces the affixed camera in front of him, his teeth clenched with a crazed breath steaming past his flared lips. He walked closer, step by step with his arms out reached, looking like he wanted to give the entire world a bear hug from hell. He dropped to his knees with a heavy, seemingly, defeated thud. Gasps for air came from underneath the mask of flesh attached to his face.
"Have you ever been there? You know? The edge between complete sanity and bat shit crazy? No no no, I'm not talking about you getting the every day shaft from life, like bills or having to make a living, no no no. I'm talking everything finally begins to go your way, life finally starts I suck cocks with your miserable ass, then suddenly the roof comes down over your head and crushes everything, along with that tiny sparkle of love and affection you fought to obtain....Needless to say, the wife is gone, the Circus turned tails and ran, and I'm not sure, but I think I set the Horde on fire...not quite certain on that one, but it seems like something I would do to a bunch of jobbers. Dominik Santiago even went and embarrassed my ass, he fought against two men before me, then locked my ass in a casket after I lost track of what was more important. Even my house, the one place in the world where I feel safe and contempt enough to feel like my life actually has some meaning, was taken away from me in the divorce. THE BITCH DIDN'T EVEN LIKE LIVING IN NEBRASKA! I had a fucking whiskey palace built into the basement! And it was in the middle of no where with a kick ass cemetery near by that I could stalk, but no, I can't get even one measly victory in life that actually means something in the long run. And the final kick in the balls, my son is still dead...."
"I've decided something, a real life goal, something that will completely change the landscape of GHW...if I'm to live such a miserable coexistence between happiness and utter disappointment , then so shall everyone else! If I'm to only be a thorn in everyone's side, then so be it. I'll be the biggest fucking thorn you ever did see. And you'd better bite the pillow, because as Wolverina can attest, I always go in dry. Ollie Jay wasn't the first person to retire after a complete ass handing, and he certainly won't be the last. A few familiar faces have popped up in recent days and returned to this land of Gods and Heretics! Miss Cassady...you can sleep soundly this night, for you're not the goal this time, and never again will you be until I see fit to render your guts between my fingers. I've got an even better target, someone who's career has been so far up my ass I can smell the tender aroma of bad tea when he's near by, and now it's stronger than ever."
"Ryan Hughes, our match at TNT ended in a bullshit draw due to outside interference...or something, I don't know, the refs around here are fucking retarded. I've already talked it over with Grimey, and he agreed with me, we're gonna have one more match. Remember our first ladder match against each other? Remember how mad the fire marshal was because of the clutter we left behind in the middle of the match? Remember how we both smelled like cotton candy...oh, sorry, candy floss for weeks afterwards, with the distinct taste of blood mixed in with it?Remember EVPW? I don't want to, but it happened. You stole that match from me, and your career sky rocketed after that? And how I had to pick myself up after having my dick kicked into the dirt so many times? OR...OR...How I've had to crawl my way up to title shots, when you were handed them and branded the fucking poster boy, WHILE I HAD TO SIT IN THE LOW CARD, DECIMATING JOBBER AFTER JOBBER, LEGEND AFTER LEGEND TO FINALLY EARN THE RIGHT TO EVEN BE CONSIDERED FOR A TITLE SHOT!? Do you remember the good old days, Ryan? Hmmm? Remember how we used to be friends? Close friends...and then, one day, after a certain incident happened...you wouldn't ever talk to me after you had effectively destroyed what was left of my career? I haven't forgotten, Ryan. And I never will. Forgive and forget are two words that'll ever hold a place inside my thought patterns.
"I remember what you told me that day, when we first met...Dude, we're both going to go far here, why not do it together? We could be unstoppable!.....how stupid I feel for ever believing that. So it has been decided! Ryan Hughes, you're target number one! I have the contract sitting right there on the table behind me! All you have to do is mosey your big British ass on down here and sign it. You, me, blood runs cold. And I shouldn't even have to tell you what the match type is going to be, the cell is already sitting in storage across the street! Come down here Hughes...the past is something you can never run from, and you know as well as I do that you can't hide from me once I've set my eyes on you. No tricks, nothing in the way of pain, just come on down and sign your life away, because at Blood Runs Cold, your brain won't even be able to handle the pain I'm going to send your way! I'm going to beat you, maul you, break you and snap you on that night, until finally...your brain goes silent and your ego is laid to rest..."
TNT goes to commerical as Jaggeroth waits in his underground lair for the arrival of Ryan Hughes, his breath panting from his rant, and his eyes dead set on the goal in front of him.
TBCB: Ryan.
