Post by Nathan von Liebert on Oct 22, 2011 15:27:08 GMT -5
As the picture comes into view, we find ourselves facing Nathan von Liebert resting in a cushioned chair. He's wearing a leather jacket with a wifebeater and jeans on, along with converse shoes. His eyes are cold as usual as he watches the camera.
"Nice of you to finally speak Purse. Although what you said was . . . how should I put it? Useless is the word I'm thinking of. You compare Vlad carving Evan up to carving a pumpkin. Sure a liquid came gushing out, but it didn't contain pumpkin seeds in it.
And so what if you get crazy by blood? Your crazy over it dropping in irregular puddles. You would clean the person's wound so it wouldn't be uneven compared to the person's uncut skin. While I snap, and inflict more pain, you try to clean it up. We're two vey different people, Purse. A winner and a loser. And I'm the winner."
Nathan smirks.
"You think Vlad as bigger badass than I am, and you're absolutely correct. He was meaner, more hardcore, and he carved into Evan. But are you actually going to blame Evan for getting carved into? Sure he picked the match, but that doesn't mean he should've cleaned the ring up after throwing me threw that glass. Normal people don't clean up glass in a hardcore match, because it is left to use later. Normal people don't freak out over every little detail. Normal people don't have OCD.
But you truly are mental if you thank Vlad can ever change. You just don't let a murderer out of soilitary confinement because he had been in there too long. But do tell me where 'softly' comes to mind after last week. Tell me how Vlad truly is a nice person after carving his name into Evan? Is that really what you want other people to experience? I mean, give me a chance and I can show sweet, innocent Kari. I can break each of her toes with pliars to prove how innocent Vlad truly is. How would you like that, Purse?"
Nathan chuckles, some joy flashing across his eyes.
"But can you actually blame the higher ups for what happened? Evan asked, I accepted, and they booked it for the main event. I didn't force them to do anything. Evan paid the price for what happened, and I'm not going to feel sorry for him. Or Bubba for that matter. He tried to interfere, and paid the price too.
But can you really not book a match for someone who is 'off his rocker?' I seem to remember fighting a girly high-flyer who's last name is a women's accesory that has a mental disorder. Should they keep you from fighting because you have OCD? I think they should just because you're hogging the spotlight, bringing people like me down from Main Events to opening matches. But your disease shouldn't stop you from doing anything. I thought we had the same feelings about these things, but guess not."
Nathan cracks his neck.
"But you know, I'm glad you're not scared of me. I don't frightened people to face me. Only those with a pair. And even though you don't one, I still take pride in not frightening you to the point of shitting yourself. But even if you're not afraid of me, be afraid. Because no matter how much preperation you make, you'll never be prepared for what he can do.
And never make the mistake that Vlad couldn't come out in a regular singles match. One botched move can get the other bleeding, and then it is all over. For you at least. Because even after it is all said and done, I'll be standing strong.
And put me on this pysch ward in Venice. Maybe I can come visit you and Kari sometimes. Well, just Kari. I could have more fun with Kari."
Nathan cranes his neck once, puzzlement on his face. But this disappears quickly, and the smirks returns.
"I never really noticed it, but I did focus a lot on what you said to past opponents. And I really don't care about you Purse. I have no beef with you, meaning I have nothing to say about you. So I have to go back and see what I can say about past promos. In my eyes, you're just two checks in the win column.
And I'm going to end this real short. I don't care if you beat Cole Blaze, Donovan and Snake in a triple threat, and the entire locker room to boot. Because you won't beat me. And that is Revelation in my book."
The scene fades out
"Nice of you to finally speak Purse. Although what you said was . . . how should I put it? Useless is the word I'm thinking of. You compare Vlad carving Evan up to carving a pumpkin. Sure a liquid came gushing out, but it didn't contain pumpkin seeds in it.
And so what if you get crazy by blood? Your crazy over it dropping in irregular puddles. You would clean the person's wound so it wouldn't be uneven compared to the person's uncut skin. While I snap, and inflict more pain, you try to clean it up. We're two vey different people, Purse. A winner and a loser. And I'm the winner."
Nathan smirks.
"You think Vlad as bigger badass than I am, and you're absolutely correct. He was meaner, more hardcore, and he carved into Evan. But are you actually going to blame Evan for getting carved into? Sure he picked the match, but that doesn't mean he should've cleaned the ring up after throwing me threw that glass. Normal people don't clean up glass in a hardcore match, because it is left to use later. Normal people don't freak out over every little detail. Normal people don't have OCD.
But you truly are mental if you thank Vlad can ever change. You just don't let a murderer out of soilitary confinement because he had been in there too long. But do tell me where 'softly' comes to mind after last week. Tell me how Vlad truly is a nice person after carving his name into Evan? Is that really what you want other people to experience? I mean, give me a chance and I can show sweet, innocent Kari. I can break each of her toes with pliars to prove how innocent Vlad truly is. How would you like that, Purse?"
Nathan chuckles, some joy flashing across his eyes.
"But can you actually blame the higher ups for what happened? Evan asked, I accepted, and they booked it for the main event. I didn't force them to do anything. Evan paid the price for what happened, and I'm not going to feel sorry for him. Or Bubba for that matter. He tried to interfere, and paid the price too.
But can you really not book a match for someone who is 'off his rocker?' I seem to remember fighting a girly high-flyer who's last name is a women's accesory that has a mental disorder. Should they keep you from fighting because you have OCD? I think they should just because you're hogging the spotlight, bringing people like me down from Main Events to opening matches. But your disease shouldn't stop you from doing anything. I thought we had the same feelings about these things, but guess not."
Nathan cracks his neck.
"But you know, I'm glad you're not scared of me. I don't frightened people to face me. Only those with a pair. And even though you don't one, I still take pride in not frightening you to the point of shitting yourself. But even if you're not afraid of me, be afraid. Because no matter how much preperation you make, you'll never be prepared for what he can do.
And never make the mistake that Vlad couldn't come out in a regular singles match. One botched move can get the other bleeding, and then it is all over. For you at least. Because even after it is all said and done, I'll be standing strong.
And put me on this pysch ward in Venice. Maybe I can come visit you and Kari sometimes. Well, just Kari. I could have more fun with Kari."
Nathan cranes his neck once, puzzlement on his face. But this disappears quickly, and the smirks returns.
"I never really noticed it, but I did focus a lot on what you said to past opponents. And I really don't care about you Purse. I have no beef with you, meaning I have nothing to say about you. So I have to go back and see what I can say about past promos. In my eyes, you're just two checks in the win column.
And I'm going to end this real short. I don't care if you beat Cole Blaze, Donovan and Snake in a triple threat, and the entire locker room to boot. Because you won't beat me. And that is Revelation in my book."
The scene fades out