So you thought it was safe to go to the ring.....
Apr 13, 2016 10:37:43 GMT -5
Noah Hanson likes this
Post by coreybull on Apr 13, 2016 10:37:43 GMT -5
"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall"
--- Confucius
The gibbous moon shines down on the fields of the northwoods. The dreamers moon, the storytellers moon. Everything in the field has a voice tonight. Crickets sing and frogs chirp, the night birds jeer at their sleeping, diurnal cousins, and the deer rustle in the underbrush, quietly sizing up the garden just over the fence.
Everything goes quiet, though, when the wolf passes through the field.
Does the wolf think with a human mind? Does it feel grief for the creature whose blood stains its teeth, whose flesh is wedged under its claws? Does the wolf look to the gibbous moon, the moo under which it first found its feet and walked, and wish to sing? Does it wish to add its story to the night air? Is it aware as we are aware?
The wolf continues, gliding through thick brush. The twigs do not snap, deferring to the wolfs silence. When the wold is ready, it will add its story to the night. It has a different mission. The barn.
The barn is white and the roof sags a little under the weight of age. In its rafters, squirrels build nests and spiders weave their webs. In another five years, the roof will collapse under its own weight if its current owners do not do something about it. The wolf, perhaps, knows this. But he does not care. He is not here for the barn. He is not here to give advice to the man. No, he is here for the man. For perhaps the wolf does have a human mind, buried deep within its primal thought. For it knows the man has done something terrible...and the wolf is here for justice.
Because in a place over the fence that the deer are even now crossing, across the fields so alive with the sound of the night song, beyond the little churches parking lot and just past the fairgrounds, the body of a little boy is buried. And that boys soul can not leave this place, for he is alone, cold, and frightened. Perhaps the wolf recognizes the anguish of its spirit? Perhaps it is just concerned for the place.
Does not matter the reason. For the man is in the barn and the wolf is at the door and justice will come. The wolf will add his song to the night, and then will leave silently and even the wind will not whistle, out of deference to the wolf's silence.
**The private jet of the Calgary Cutthroats, a Canadian women's indoor football league, flies from New Zealand to the states. On that jet, the Cutthroats owner, Corey Bull, relaxes in a chair. He is watching video, many different discs next to the DVD player. The mask reflects some of the light from the screen, it dances across the silver death mask with a hypnotic rhythm. A female voice clearing her throat behind Bull causes him to pause the video.**
"Yes Gretchen?"
"Sorry to bother you Mister Bull, but I need to verify our flight schedule."
**The woman comes into view, a leggy brunette in a business suit. She sits down and politely crosses her legs as she pulls a large folder out of her bag**
"Why?"
"Well Mrs. Frost has informed me that we are making several more flights then usual and I wanted to ensure that these flights were correctly logged and prepared for."
"Alright, but you do realize we own this jet, right?"
"Yes Mister Bull, I am aware of that. However, since this jet is a piece of Dead Cell Inc assets, it is my job as Mrs. Frost's assistant to ensure that all things are proper and legal."
**Bull chuckles**
"Alright, what kind of a verification do you need?"
"Just an idea of the stops we are making in the next two weeks."
**Bull nods and rolls his shoulders**
"Ok, right now we are heading to Indianapolis. We have an IPW show to catch with Dirk. From there we will go to the Pittsburg, and drive to the NAW arena and we will beat the crap out of five others for the NAW Legacy Championship. Then a quick stop in Calgary to ensure that the team is training well and make sure that we are up to speed on the preparations for the season to start on the 24th. From there, we turn back around and go to Washington D.C, where we will fight in the WXW's World Heavyweight Championship match and beat the crap out of one of our oldest friends and his stepfather to win their title. And then we get back on the jet, fly to New Zealand for NGW's Lest We Forget pay per view, where we fight for the tag team championships and then finish this little thing we have with Massacre about who the real monster is in NGW. From their, we fly out to LA, where we have a security gig for our old friend Kaden Kessler while he fights in his Heavyweight Championship match....did we miss anything?"
"Yes, when do you sleep?"
**Bull chuckles**
"We don't need to sleep. If you could leave us along for the next fifteen minutes, that would be great."
"Yes sir."
**Gretchen gets up and leaves and Bull stares at the camera, the sound of the door closing, before he speaks**
"The life of a legend. "Please come beat up our superstars. Please come beat up ours.". This last month has been nothing but hectic, and somewhere in all it, we faced another legend in his retirement match, was inducted into our third hall of fame, and won the right to fight for the chance to be the NGW's very first Tag Team Champions. And still people ask us, how are we gonna win this match? Simple. Preparation."
"We built this match over ten years ago. We have fought in it three times. All three times we walked out the winner, though we use the term walking loosely. To stand in that cell, is to stand in the devils parlor and prepare for the main course. And when that bell sounds, people will learn why we are called a monster."
**Bull switches the DVD and hits some buttons on the remote. The first picture to pop up is Rocky Hollywood**
"Oh Rocky, is the NAW so desperate for real talent, that they allow someone lacking it to stand near the top? You are a blow heart, nothing more then a mouth piece. You keep climbing the ladder, and getting bopped on the head when you get to the top. And then you stumble and waddle down the ladder, and you climb it again. It's great that you believe you stand a chance, it really is. It is almost like a Cinderella story, is Cinderella was ugly and cocky. But you and us, we know your not going to last long enough to be a real threat. Sure, you have some talent, yes you beat us. But that doesn't bother us. We are not one of those types to linger on a loss. Some nights, we just feel sorry for someone. And judging by that face, many people must feel sorry for you Rocky. It's not that your not good looking, it's just that you have this constant.....constipated look. Like you have to shit so bad and it is right there, but when you sit down...nothing. It's kind of like your career. You try and try and try...but you can't even squeeze out a pebble of a championship to wrap around your waist. Wow...this is a new one. We just compared someone's career to taking a dump. Well, if the shoe fits...."
**Bull shrugs. He hits a button and the picture changes**
"James Edwards. A member of the Mid-South Syndicate. A man who had a ton of hype surrounding him, and from what we have seen, you have earned that hype. Let us tell you a secret James. So have we. Don't listen to the words of most of our competitors in this match. Go back, watch the fights we have had before. Watch our opponents, and you will see the respect they give us, even if their words do not match. We are as dangerous as people say and this is our environment. We built this match for punishment. We built this match to push people to the edge. We want to see what happens. For we live at the edge with no fear of tumbling off. It is our home...our comfort...our place of zen if you will. We will introduce you to is at Spring Breakdown. And it will be a painfully awkward introduction, but we are sure that, by the end of the night, you will not forget us."
**He hits the button again and Noah Hanson appears**
"The Hollywood Blockbuster himself. What is it with you guys and Hollywood? Seriously, that place is garbage. Sure, their are stars and red carpet events, but it is all a lie and you all indulge yourself in the lie. Like the idea that you might win this match Noah. You continue to indulge yourself in this fantasy and you are going to see that your reality is a lot more painful and less fulfilling then the fantasy you have created for yourself. Your good, we will give you that. But lapdogs are always good. They know when to sit, when to stay, and when to do as the owner commands. You can say your not under anyone's thumb. And we would be inclined to believe you, if your own actions didn't say otherwise. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, its a fucking duck. The thing about you that probably gets us the most, is how polite you are, how sure of yourself you are. Its that attitude that is going to get you hurt really bad in this match. Maybe we will wrap a strand of barbedwire around your throat and spread your face across the chain link fence like we are trying to grate cheese. Maybe it'll just be as simple as us beating you till you stop moving. You can't tell. And you won't be able to. We are the thing your trainers warn you about in a wrestling match. Someone with nothing to lose."
**Bull changes the picture again to Bohannon**
"You...you haven't done it yet? You haven't climbed to the top yet? When we left, we left this to you and Alice. We expected to come back for one match and expect that Bohannon had at least achieved something. But no....now your just a swirl in the drain Bohannon. Honestly, we might have lost respect for you....if it wasn't for the fact that you still maintain yourself. That is something we can not deny. You still hold yourself to a higher standard then most, you still attempt to stand for the right thing. But honestly, you haven't achieved any real change since we left. Kind of sad, really. There was always that rumble in the wrestling rumor boards that we were the reason you could not get higher up, that we just overshadowed you. But...we have been gone...and the truth is free. It is just you Bohannon. You are the reason you can not get any higher. And it is a real shame, honestly. We find you to be a honest man, a well skilled and well articulated individual. But...your going to have a relapse at Spring Breakdown. We are going to send you tumbling to an abyss of disappointment once again. So sad."
**Bull off the TV as he continues**
"Oh, our dirty little thing. We have missed you. The scent of you still clinging to our skin. That moment of completion, of reaching the top at the same time. And we are not talking wrestling. We understand you Alice. You are competitive, but there is more. There is an edge not unlike our own, an edge few possess. It is one of the reason that the two of us are attracted to each other. It is fate. And as we once again walk to the crossroads, we can already smell you, that sweet scent you wear when you are not in the ring. We can hear your breathing, the blood rushing through both our veins. The smell of combat...the smell of lust. Lingering scents and cherished memories. Alice...you and us...we are apart of each other. Nothing can change or separate what we have created. But we once again walk to the crossroad with each other in our sights. And we still have this...."
**Bull lifts his hand, a single bullet in it with the name Alice Harris on it**
"...and we might have to pull the trigger this time Alice. We might have to put you down in this match. Know that we will get no pleasure from this. We will not seek you out in retribution, but in competition. And while only the best can win Alice, you will always be someone we consider the greatest. But at Spring Breakdown...you won't be the winner."
**Bull's eyes take on a serious tone**
"When we look at everyone in this match, we think of the amount of bones we can break and the blood that will spill. We will not even feel a little bit sorry for the damage we will do. We are going to create a symphony of pain and suffering and we will ensure that the NAW Legacy Championship walks out of Spring Breakdown riding on our shoulder. And then...when we win...it will truly be our last match. After that, the boss can pick two people and let them fight for the title for all we care. We just want to prove a point. We want to look you all in the eye and tell you one thing: That as good as you think you are...your never going to be on the level of the Hatebringer. Well...except for Alice Harris. But...then again...she is the current champion for a reason. So, at Spring Breakdown....we are nailing everyone with HATE!"
**Bull starts to laugh,something dark, as the camera fades to black**
--- Confucius
The gibbous moon shines down on the fields of the northwoods. The dreamers moon, the storytellers moon. Everything in the field has a voice tonight. Crickets sing and frogs chirp, the night birds jeer at their sleeping, diurnal cousins, and the deer rustle in the underbrush, quietly sizing up the garden just over the fence.
Everything goes quiet, though, when the wolf passes through the field.
Does the wolf think with a human mind? Does it feel grief for the creature whose blood stains its teeth, whose flesh is wedged under its claws? Does the wolf look to the gibbous moon, the moo under which it first found its feet and walked, and wish to sing? Does it wish to add its story to the night air? Is it aware as we are aware?
The wolf continues, gliding through thick brush. The twigs do not snap, deferring to the wolfs silence. When the wold is ready, it will add its story to the night. It has a different mission. The barn.
The barn is white and the roof sags a little under the weight of age. In its rafters, squirrels build nests and spiders weave their webs. In another five years, the roof will collapse under its own weight if its current owners do not do something about it. The wolf, perhaps, knows this. But he does not care. He is not here for the barn. He is not here to give advice to the man. No, he is here for the man. For perhaps the wolf does have a human mind, buried deep within its primal thought. For it knows the man has done something terrible...and the wolf is here for justice.
Because in a place over the fence that the deer are even now crossing, across the fields so alive with the sound of the night song, beyond the little churches parking lot and just past the fairgrounds, the body of a little boy is buried. And that boys soul can not leave this place, for he is alone, cold, and frightened. Perhaps the wolf recognizes the anguish of its spirit? Perhaps it is just concerned for the place.
Does not matter the reason. For the man is in the barn and the wolf is at the door and justice will come. The wolf will add his song to the night, and then will leave silently and even the wind will not whistle, out of deference to the wolf's silence.
**The private jet of the Calgary Cutthroats, a Canadian women's indoor football league, flies from New Zealand to the states. On that jet, the Cutthroats owner, Corey Bull, relaxes in a chair. He is watching video, many different discs next to the DVD player. The mask reflects some of the light from the screen, it dances across the silver death mask with a hypnotic rhythm. A female voice clearing her throat behind Bull causes him to pause the video.**
"Yes Gretchen?"
"Sorry to bother you Mister Bull, but I need to verify our flight schedule."
**The woman comes into view, a leggy brunette in a business suit. She sits down and politely crosses her legs as she pulls a large folder out of her bag**
"Why?"
"Well Mrs. Frost has informed me that we are making several more flights then usual and I wanted to ensure that these flights were correctly logged and prepared for."
"Alright, but you do realize we own this jet, right?"
"Yes Mister Bull, I am aware of that. However, since this jet is a piece of Dead Cell Inc assets, it is my job as Mrs. Frost's assistant to ensure that all things are proper and legal."
**Bull chuckles**
"Alright, what kind of a verification do you need?"
"Just an idea of the stops we are making in the next two weeks."
**Bull nods and rolls his shoulders**
"Ok, right now we are heading to Indianapolis. We have an IPW show to catch with Dirk. From there we will go to the Pittsburg, and drive to the NAW arena and we will beat the crap out of five others for the NAW Legacy Championship. Then a quick stop in Calgary to ensure that the team is training well and make sure that we are up to speed on the preparations for the season to start on the 24th. From there, we turn back around and go to Washington D.C, where we will fight in the WXW's World Heavyweight Championship match and beat the crap out of one of our oldest friends and his stepfather to win their title. And then we get back on the jet, fly to New Zealand for NGW's Lest We Forget pay per view, where we fight for the tag team championships and then finish this little thing we have with Massacre about who the real monster is in NGW. From their, we fly out to LA, where we have a security gig for our old friend Kaden Kessler while he fights in his Heavyweight Championship match....did we miss anything?"
"Yes, when do you sleep?"
**Bull chuckles**
"We don't need to sleep. If you could leave us along for the next fifteen minutes, that would be great."
"Yes sir."
**Gretchen gets up and leaves and Bull stares at the camera, the sound of the door closing, before he speaks**
"The life of a legend. "Please come beat up our superstars. Please come beat up ours.". This last month has been nothing but hectic, and somewhere in all it, we faced another legend in his retirement match, was inducted into our third hall of fame, and won the right to fight for the chance to be the NGW's very first Tag Team Champions. And still people ask us, how are we gonna win this match? Simple. Preparation."
"We built this match over ten years ago. We have fought in it three times. All three times we walked out the winner, though we use the term walking loosely. To stand in that cell, is to stand in the devils parlor and prepare for the main course. And when that bell sounds, people will learn why we are called a monster."
**Bull switches the DVD and hits some buttons on the remote. The first picture to pop up is Rocky Hollywood**
"Oh Rocky, is the NAW so desperate for real talent, that they allow someone lacking it to stand near the top? You are a blow heart, nothing more then a mouth piece. You keep climbing the ladder, and getting bopped on the head when you get to the top. And then you stumble and waddle down the ladder, and you climb it again. It's great that you believe you stand a chance, it really is. It is almost like a Cinderella story, is Cinderella was ugly and cocky. But you and us, we know your not going to last long enough to be a real threat. Sure, you have some talent, yes you beat us. But that doesn't bother us. We are not one of those types to linger on a loss. Some nights, we just feel sorry for someone. And judging by that face, many people must feel sorry for you Rocky. It's not that your not good looking, it's just that you have this constant.....constipated look. Like you have to shit so bad and it is right there, but when you sit down...nothing. It's kind of like your career. You try and try and try...but you can't even squeeze out a pebble of a championship to wrap around your waist. Wow...this is a new one. We just compared someone's career to taking a dump. Well, if the shoe fits...."
**Bull shrugs. He hits a button and the picture changes**
"James Edwards. A member of the Mid-South Syndicate. A man who had a ton of hype surrounding him, and from what we have seen, you have earned that hype. Let us tell you a secret James. So have we. Don't listen to the words of most of our competitors in this match. Go back, watch the fights we have had before. Watch our opponents, and you will see the respect they give us, even if their words do not match. We are as dangerous as people say and this is our environment. We built this match for punishment. We built this match to push people to the edge. We want to see what happens. For we live at the edge with no fear of tumbling off. It is our home...our comfort...our place of zen if you will. We will introduce you to is at Spring Breakdown. And it will be a painfully awkward introduction, but we are sure that, by the end of the night, you will not forget us."
**He hits the button again and Noah Hanson appears**
"The Hollywood Blockbuster himself. What is it with you guys and Hollywood? Seriously, that place is garbage. Sure, their are stars and red carpet events, but it is all a lie and you all indulge yourself in the lie. Like the idea that you might win this match Noah. You continue to indulge yourself in this fantasy and you are going to see that your reality is a lot more painful and less fulfilling then the fantasy you have created for yourself. Your good, we will give you that. But lapdogs are always good. They know when to sit, when to stay, and when to do as the owner commands. You can say your not under anyone's thumb. And we would be inclined to believe you, if your own actions didn't say otherwise. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, its a fucking duck. The thing about you that probably gets us the most, is how polite you are, how sure of yourself you are. Its that attitude that is going to get you hurt really bad in this match. Maybe we will wrap a strand of barbedwire around your throat and spread your face across the chain link fence like we are trying to grate cheese. Maybe it'll just be as simple as us beating you till you stop moving. You can't tell. And you won't be able to. We are the thing your trainers warn you about in a wrestling match. Someone with nothing to lose."
**Bull changes the picture again to Bohannon**
"You...you haven't done it yet? You haven't climbed to the top yet? When we left, we left this to you and Alice. We expected to come back for one match and expect that Bohannon had at least achieved something. But no....now your just a swirl in the drain Bohannon. Honestly, we might have lost respect for you....if it wasn't for the fact that you still maintain yourself. That is something we can not deny. You still hold yourself to a higher standard then most, you still attempt to stand for the right thing. But honestly, you haven't achieved any real change since we left. Kind of sad, really. There was always that rumble in the wrestling rumor boards that we were the reason you could not get higher up, that we just overshadowed you. But...we have been gone...and the truth is free. It is just you Bohannon. You are the reason you can not get any higher. And it is a real shame, honestly. We find you to be a honest man, a well skilled and well articulated individual. But...your going to have a relapse at Spring Breakdown. We are going to send you tumbling to an abyss of disappointment once again. So sad."
**Bull off the TV as he continues**
"Oh, our dirty little thing. We have missed you. The scent of you still clinging to our skin. That moment of completion, of reaching the top at the same time. And we are not talking wrestling. We understand you Alice. You are competitive, but there is more. There is an edge not unlike our own, an edge few possess. It is one of the reason that the two of us are attracted to each other. It is fate. And as we once again walk to the crossroads, we can already smell you, that sweet scent you wear when you are not in the ring. We can hear your breathing, the blood rushing through both our veins. The smell of combat...the smell of lust. Lingering scents and cherished memories. Alice...you and us...we are apart of each other. Nothing can change or separate what we have created. But we once again walk to the crossroad with each other in our sights. And we still have this...."
**Bull lifts his hand, a single bullet in it with the name Alice Harris on it**
"...and we might have to pull the trigger this time Alice. We might have to put you down in this match. Know that we will get no pleasure from this. We will not seek you out in retribution, but in competition. And while only the best can win Alice, you will always be someone we consider the greatest. But at Spring Breakdown...you won't be the winner."
**Bull's eyes take on a serious tone**
"When we look at everyone in this match, we think of the amount of bones we can break and the blood that will spill. We will not even feel a little bit sorry for the damage we will do. We are going to create a symphony of pain and suffering and we will ensure that the NAW Legacy Championship walks out of Spring Breakdown riding on our shoulder. And then...when we win...it will truly be our last match. After that, the boss can pick two people and let them fight for the title for all we care. We just want to prove a point. We want to look you all in the eye and tell you one thing: That as good as you think you are...your never going to be on the level of the Hatebringer. Well...except for Alice Harris. But...then again...she is the current champion for a reason. So, at Spring Breakdown....we are nailing everyone with HATE!"
**Bull starts to laugh,something dark, as the camera fades to black**