Post by Dustin Delta on Nov 16, 2012 1:22:26 GMT -5
As the new episode of Tuesday Night Triumph begins, there is a sudden unexpected change in what everybody had interpreted as their scheduled programming. Advertisements, posters, television promotional spots, and more are featured Millson and Simpson vs. The Logging Crew for the Tag Team Championships as an opening bout, to kick off the night with an explosive competition. However, instead of the entrance music of either team, "Everybody Else Is An Asshole" by Reel Big Fish hits the principal announcement system, welcoming the reappearance of the man gone missing, Dustin Delta. He is greeted with enthusiasm, receiving a generous ovation and many cheers as he emerged onto the stage in the legendary GHW Arena, wearing faded blue jeans, an undershirt, and a leather jacket with a sown-in grey hood, giving off the appearance of two separate layers. In his street attire, he makes his way down the incline, not taking the time to notice or acknowledge any of the hungry fans beside the entry aisle. While his clothing is relaxed, Dustin himself seems to be all business tonight as he makes a beeline for the squared circle, wasting no time in pacing up the steel steps and ducking between the ropes, stepping into a homecoming of sorts. The former King of the Deathmatch has a microphone delivered to him, and he gazes out towards the television camera, set in the sea of faces, lost in the glare of the limelight and the manner in which the meaningless audience members seem to blend together, lacking distinction. A solemn face is carved into the contours and lines of Dustin, who's eyes do not move or duck away from the lens of the broadcast camera.
"Two hundred and fifty seven days."
Instantly, a mental connection is made in the head of each and every member of the GHW Faithful in attendance that night. It sets in before any pair of eyes could blink or any fingers could snap in ecstatic realization, that Delta is referring to his total number of days holding the King of the Deathmatch Championship. After all, it is quite a tall order that Delta fulfilled, to surpass Vladimir's number of days with only two reigns - a task not even Hayden HardKore could complete with his record five reigns. It came as no surprise that Dustin was still hanging onto this subject.
"Two hundred and fifty seven days of my life, almost a year, carrying that silver and leather about, and for what? And for who, dare I ask? For your would-be asylum patient savior, Hayden HardKore? The man who not only ended my reign, but could've ended my career? The man who went on the hold that championship for almost no time at all, and lost it in his first open challenge to the roster. If Hayden was attempting to prove some kind of point or re-establish his dominance that he clings to so tightly, he failed, just like Hayden failed when I first won that championship. But to give credit where it's rightfully due, Mr. HardKore was successful in one immature and foolish venture. In that with his ridiculously unsafe and unprecedented tool, the Ball-'n'-Chain, left a depression in the bone of my skull after our match. I was carried out of the building on a stretcher, and rushed to an emergency room, where I was told that there was a possibility that because of that imbecile's inane lust for all things lacking basic cognitive consideration, I may never wrestle again. It was almost some poetic crime, where Hayden shattered my dreams along with a piece of my cranium."
"Fortunately, through the wonderful advances of medicinal and corrective sciences, the depression upon my skull can be just that - corrected - in a few month's time. But for now, I'm left out of the action, and expected to idly sit by as critical time passes me away, drawing me closer to the day where I wither in dust and corroded bone, and just watch. But I'll have none of that ludicrous course of action. I've uncovered for myself a temporary position to uphold in the time of my absence from active weekly competition."
By now, the audience has their ears wide open, yet the once positive reaction gifted to Delta has been split down the middle. Some are happy that Dustin will be able to stick around and that he won't be left out of the weekly festivities and will appear in the arena and on the television set. Others feel offended and insulted by Dustin's diction, choosing words very specifically and seeming to attach a negative connotation on everything he says so far. While those fans are hesitant, they are open enough to listen on as he continues.
"But before I get into my new position, I'd like to address another ludicrous act that has been performed in this company for far too long, and it's my own. I realize I've been as foolish and childish as Hayden all along. I've been playing a game and you've all been subjects and cronies through each and every segment of this absolutely ridiculous series. So I've made the decision to drop this charade. I am not Dustin Delta. I am no fairy tale child lost in some Neanderthal's lucid dream of an imagination. My name, ladies and gentlemen, is Joshua Vandiver. And I am the Voice of Reason. I am everything that each and every one of you should aspire to be. So many of you bring your children to this show, you let your children watch along at home, and you cling to your childhood memories because you're all scared. When it comes to the concept of change, and when you need to button down and face reality, you're all cowards quivering on the floor, reaching for the spine you don't have, you never had, and that you'll never grow. You're all just like your precious little superhero, Hayden HardKore. You all hide behind the familiar and flail it about until you strike down the imposing concept of self-evolution, self-resolution, and self-improvement. Hayden will never evolve. Hayden will never grow. He'll always hide behind his Ball and Chain, like you all hide behind dry re-runs of the Honeymooners, you middle-aged clowns. And then you have men like me. Joshua Van Diver. Aged not even thirty years and already wise past the years of some of the veterans backstage and some of the deluded cretins in the audience. I don't hide. I evolve. I mature. And it's only a matter of time until I come to fruition. But for now, I take seat in my new position and rest until the metamorphosis completes itself."
In a matter of about seven minutes, the former King of the Deathmatch Champion has turned every table in the building and reflected the tides of the sea back out to the waters, and there wasn't a soul in the capacity crowd in favor or enjoying a single word uttered by the mouth of Vandiver. Joshua simply grins a nautical smirk, and swipes his thumb across the soft cartilage of his nose and brings the microphone back towards his lips.
"As for my current position, I've taken a keen interest and found an emotional and mental bond with a current superstar who is one of the best talents I've seen to date. As far as I'm concerned, my insensible dogs, there's only one talent who comes out to this ring who could ever rival my skill. And I made note of this and all things considered, it'd simply make more sense if instead of doing battle to no end, that I join forces with this person and together we crown ourselves rightfully a top the ladder that is Glory and Honor Wrestling. So without further adieu, please welcome to her ring, the greatest active Fighty fighty person in GHW today, and of course, the Queen of GHW herself, my first managerial client..."
"You've got to be shitting me."
"...Wolverina."
