Post by Nathan von Liebert on Oct 14, 2011 19:29:11 GMT -5
The images the camera picks up right off the back is rather random and weird that they would be there. So the shopping cart beside a store in Atlanta might not had been a weird sight, although the fact that it was half-way filled with barbed-wire was something new. Nor was the fact that a black rat rested on the bottom of the cart as if he was human. Calm, collected, and cool. But the weirdest sight was when a strip of barbed wire fell into the basket from above. . .
So maybe the heavens weren't preparing humans for a barricading situation. Or even the barbed wire coming from heaven at all. As the camera pans up, the Devil's Right Hand is climbing down a ladder off the roof of a store that happened to have barbed wire on it. At the bottom of the roof, Nathan turned around, putting himself in better view. He's wearing one of his merchandise shirt, with a flannel vest, similar to Mick Foley signature outfit. Along with that Nathan is wearing jeans with holes at the knees, and Nike sneakers with one lip hanging limply. One shoe doesn't even have shoe strings. But a new addition to his wardrobe is a baseball batter's glove on his right hand.
"Hello Evan. I hope you have the same reaction to this promo as you did with Devon's last week. You left some questions out there that was unanswered that kinda fit in this week. So I'll address them this week. Might I first ask out of everything I have to say is why? Why, after losing to me by a cheap shot, will you challenge me to a match where I can do anything I desire without worrying about gettin' in trouble? That's like hiring an assassin to kill you. You have no chance against me in a No Disqualification match. I can use this barbed wire here without any regret. And I do promise, after everything Bubba said to me this week about how I will regret this, I won't. Not one bit.
But did some of those questions you mentioned last week work with me? Hell yeah they did. I'm certain you don't give me enough credit where credit is due. I beat you once, and you challenge me so I can beat you the same way. Not a submission match, where you're technically sound. No an Ironman, where you have more stamina than me. Not even a match with an enforcer. At least you could have Storm out there to help you when the going got tough. But instead I have the freedom of skinning your face off with my wire here. I have liberty to snap your ankle between two chairs. I can bloody you beyond belief. Is that credit where credit is due?
Now I'm not the best champion ACW is seen, or even a champion at all. But I can say I'm one of the hottest rookies around. I can say I'm the dirtiest SOB around. I can say after this week I'm the most hardcore. And I can say I beat a former Specialist and United States champion twice. "
Nathan chuckles, watching the camera as he walks over to his cart. Squatting down, Nathan sits on his buttocks watching the camera.
"You probably haven't earned Devon's respect, especially after you lost to him. Sure, you proved you could hold your own, countering the Spike, surviving the Jawjacker. But in the end, your sleeper holds proved nothing to Mayhem. But you know, you didn't earn my respect either. You had me beat, Evan, and your lead was blown. But that isn't why you're nothing to me. Your nothing because you fought harder against Mayhem than against me. Am I a chump compared to Mayhem? Sure, I'm not the World Heavyweight champion, but I'm six and one. It is discourging that people overlook me for opponents in the future. You put more effort in beating up Smith the same night than you did in our match. Disappointing.
I'm am glad you're willing to prove you deserve respect, even when you don't know exactly what you're trapped in. You grew a large pair to challenge me to a match where Vlad reigns supreme in. Sure, it'll be his first guranteed chance to appear, but its not the first time he's ever been out. I've hurt people before. Vlad has really hurt people. You're just the first brave and dumb enough to let me show exactly what Vlad can do on national television. I can promise he will appear. My blood unlocks him as easy as yours will.
So yeah, I'm making a big promise. I'm promising a victory over you and promising that blood will be spilt. But unlike you, Evan, my promises won't fail like yours have these last few weeks. I will do what I set out to do, and if I stumble, Vlad won't. That's my secret, Harrison. Even if I fail, I won't. But you don't have to believe me, because you will be forced to believe me when I beat you at Shockwave. Sound familar? This is what you told Devon, and later failed. Not it is what I told you, and will succeed in on Sunday. Why? Because I'm the better wrestler than you. At least, with the stipulations in our match, I will be. Maybe if I got caught cheating, you could beat me a regular match. But this Sunday, I might just crush your jewels in front of the ref so he'll see it for once."
Nathan pauses as Rocky climbs up his back, and rests on his shoulder. The red eyes watch, the lips curled into what could only be a smirk.
"If someone loses to me two weeks ago, and challenges me to a match that is fought in my domain, I must be doing something wrong. Maybe I've been too soft on my opponents. I mean dropping someone on the top of their head in a freefall truly isn't good enough to frighten you. Or the thought of being caught in the ropes while I jump on your arms with only a cord between me and your muscles. Or maybe I just didn't hit you in the nuts hard enough.
But I know it isn't my experience that scares you. I've fought seven matches in my career, six ending with me winning. Sure you've fought since you were fourteen. Sure you were international star at age ninteen. Four matches into my career, and I was in the biggest event of ACW. The same tourney you were in. My eighth match will be my first Main Event. When you were first starting out, were you main eventing? I highly doubt it, unless your beginning years were in some trampoline federation.
Fact is, when we look at our careers match to match instead of year to year, I've done so much more than you have. Maybe if you had waited later, you would've been better than you are. I mean, you were win number five for me. And you know, you've been my biggest match so far in terms of prestige. Aires and Purse is good, but they aren't a two time Specialist champion. Kaiden Daniels beat a champ the first week he was here. I beat him too. You got thrown into big matches early in ACW because of what you did in AWA. You even won some of them. I don't book matches. But I took whoever was thrown at me, and tried to win. Most of the time, I did win.
I'm not going to spit names out at you Evan. You beat Snake once, so at that point and time, you were better than him. You've beaten Carnage too, in case Devon didn't know that. So at that point in time you were better than The Fallen Angel. But today, it is you're not better than me. At least not where you will be Sunday."
Nathan smirks, watching the camera with his dark eyes.
"I don't think you suck Evan. At least, not in the ring. What you do backstage is your business, but we're talking wrestling here. I can look back at past wins you've had. Carnage, Summers, Hyena, Omega are all names off the top of my head. You've beaten Heavyweight, U.S, and even Women champions. You've proven you can win.
But let me remind you of what I mentioned two weeks ago. You're a shell of the old Evan. You aren't the former champ anymore. You have to work to get back to that former Harrison. Until then you're the guy that beat Nightrider, Dice, and Griffin. You can drop names all you want, and I can do the same. Lawrence, Donovan, Smith, Mayhem, Liebert. All of these men you've lost to, some as the old Evan, some as the shell. But there always going to be losses. You can't change the past, only the future. And at the moment, you won't be fighting Lawrence or Donovan. Maybe you'll beat Smith when you two meet, and Mayhem down the road. Just as long as you understand that your future won't be changed this Sunday. You will lose, fall to the base of the mountain, and will be forced to climb to the top once more. It will be a good lesson for you. Never expect to leave only to return to the same spot on the mountain."
Nathan runs his gloved hand through his hair.
"And just to clairfy, I disrespect you because you disrespect me. Brooks can kiss your ass and mine too for all I care. I doubt Devon fought you so hard for what you said about Brooks. Sure, they're friends, but that isn't how Devon rolls. Sure, if you had attacked Brooks physically, Mayhem would've done more. But I doubt Brooks was hurt much in Aramillo. You attacked him with one line.
But you were right. Mayhem busted out the Jawjacker, and you still got caught in it. He leveled you, and you dropped like a log. So much for scouting two styles. But take that into consideration this week. In a match we're about to fight, you'll most likely face two styles also. Except you won't be able to prepare for Vlad because no one has seen him wrestle, and only Bubba has seen what Vlad can really do. You can't prepare for something like this. If I even knew what I did, I'd tell you so you'd be prepared. But I have no control of myself when Vlad comes out. It is your fault for wanting this match. Now you'll just have to pay the consqeunces. And, Evan, the prices are very high."
Nathan looks at Rocky once, scratching him behind the ear.
"It was kinda bad you did leave when you did. It is sad too. If you didn't like how the company was being run, why didn't you pick a side? Leaving a dirty bedroom thinking it would be clean when you get back doesn't get the job done. You truly made a mistake then. You could've been a threat eventually. You could've teamed with Bubba when he needed help with Travis. You could've helped Bubba when he needed it most. Prevented him from going to the Mental Institute with a concussion. Stopped him from meeting me, bringing, and eventually letting me loose. In the long run, you would've save yourself two losses against a crazy.
But you came back, expecting you start where you were when you left. You believed a few wins will lead to a title run. You thought you would be a threat. But you've been proven wrong once more. No beating the champ. No threat. Nothing spectacular. Your name only spoken by Laroux when you walk by, and he jokes with Voland about your losses.
So after this week, I'll be making the headlines. When photos of you lying in your own blood is taken, I'll be making headlines locally. . .nationally. . .internationally. . .Worldwide. Heck, I might just make a twitter to see my win trending. After this Sunday, I'll etch in stone that I'm the threat, not you."
Nathan holds his right hand up, pulling the glove off. For all to see, Nathan shows off his new tattoo. Nathan's right hand is completely red, like the stereotypical devil is colored. Wrapping around the wrist where the red stops, the words "Devil's Right Hand" is written in cursive and in black. After showing that off, Nathan balls his fist, and holds it at the camera. On each knuckle a letter is tattooed, spelling out "Vlad" Nathan finally withdraws his hand, tucking it in his pocket.
"I hope you saw that Harrison. You'll be marked this week, the first of many, by the Devil's Right Hand. Nothing more, nothing less. Until you reply, I have nothing to say to you. So I'll see you Sunday. I just hope you're ready."
The scene fades out.
So maybe the heavens weren't preparing humans for a barricading situation. Or even the barbed wire coming from heaven at all. As the camera pans up, the Devil's Right Hand is climbing down a ladder off the roof of a store that happened to have barbed wire on it. At the bottom of the roof, Nathan turned around, putting himself in better view. He's wearing one of his merchandise shirt, with a flannel vest, similar to Mick Foley signature outfit. Along with that Nathan is wearing jeans with holes at the knees, and Nike sneakers with one lip hanging limply. One shoe doesn't even have shoe strings. But a new addition to his wardrobe is a baseball batter's glove on his right hand.
"Hello Evan. I hope you have the same reaction to this promo as you did with Devon's last week. You left some questions out there that was unanswered that kinda fit in this week. So I'll address them this week. Might I first ask out of everything I have to say is why? Why, after losing to me by a cheap shot, will you challenge me to a match where I can do anything I desire without worrying about gettin' in trouble? That's like hiring an assassin to kill you. You have no chance against me in a No Disqualification match. I can use this barbed wire here without any regret. And I do promise, after everything Bubba said to me this week about how I will regret this, I won't. Not one bit.
But did some of those questions you mentioned last week work with me? Hell yeah they did. I'm certain you don't give me enough credit where credit is due. I beat you once, and you challenge me so I can beat you the same way. Not a submission match, where you're technically sound. No an Ironman, where you have more stamina than me. Not even a match with an enforcer. At least you could have Storm out there to help you when the going got tough. But instead I have the freedom of skinning your face off with my wire here. I have liberty to snap your ankle between two chairs. I can bloody you beyond belief. Is that credit where credit is due?
Now I'm not the best champion ACW is seen, or even a champion at all. But I can say I'm one of the hottest rookies around. I can say I'm the dirtiest SOB around. I can say after this week I'm the most hardcore. And I can say I beat a former Specialist and United States champion twice. "
Nathan chuckles, watching the camera as he walks over to his cart. Squatting down, Nathan sits on his buttocks watching the camera.
"You probably haven't earned Devon's respect, especially after you lost to him. Sure, you proved you could hold your own, countering the Spike, surviving the Jawjacker. But in the end, your sleeper holds proved nothing to Mayhem. But you know, you didn't earn my respect either. You had me beat, Evan, and your lead was blown. But that isn't why you're nothing to me. Your nothing because you fought harder against Mayhem than against me. Am I a chump compared to Mayhem? Sure, I'm not the World Heavyweight champion, but I'm six and one. It is discourging that people overlook me for opponents in the future. You put more effort in beating up Smith the same night than you did in our match. Disappointing.
I'm am glad you're willing to prove you deserve respect, even when you don't know exactly what you're trapped in. You grew a large pair to challenge me to a match where Vlad reigns supreme in. Sure, it'll be his first guranteed chance to appear, but its not the first time he's ever been out. I've hurt people before. Vlad has really hurt people. You're just the first brave and dumb enough to let me show exactly what Vlad can do on national television. I can promise he will appear. My blood unlocks him as easy as yours will.
So yeah, I'm making a big promise. I'm promising a victory over you and promising that blood will be spilt. But unlike you, Evan, my promises won't fail like yours have these last few weeks. I will do what I set out to do, and if I stumble, Vlad won't. That's my secret, Harrison. Even if I fail, I won't. But you don't have to believe me, because you will be forced to believe me when I beat you at Shockwave. Sound familar? This is what you told Devon, and later failed. Not it is what I told you, and will succeed in on Sunday. Why? Because I'm the better wrestler than you. At least, with the stipulations in our match, I will be. Maybe if I got caught cheating, you could beat me a regular match. But this Sunday, I might just crush your jewels in front of the ref so he'll see it for once."
Nathan pauses as Rocky climbs up his back, and rests on his shoulder. The red eyes watch, the lips curled into what could only be a smirk.
"If someone loses to me two weeks ago, and challenges me to a match that is fought in my domain, I must be doing something wrong. Maybe I've been too soft on my opponents. I mean dropping someone on the top of their head in a freefall truly isn't good enough to frighten you. Or the thought of being caught in the ropes while I jump on your arms with only a cord between me and your muscles. Or maybe I just didn't hit you in the nuts hard enough.
But I know it isn't my experience that scares you. I've fought seven matches in my career, six ending with me winning. Sure you've fought since you were fourteen. Sure you were international star at age ninteen. Four matches into my career, and I was in the biggest event of ACW. The same tourney you were in. My eighth match will be my first Main Event. When you were first starting out, were you main eventing? I highly doubt it, unless your beginning years were in some trampoline federation.
Fact is, when we look at our careers match to match instead of year to year, I've done so much more than you have. Maybe if you had waited later, you would've been better than you are. I mean, you were win number five for me. And you know, you've been my biggest match so far in terms of prestige. Aires and Purse is good, but they aren't a two time Specialist champion. Kaiden Daniels beat a champ the first week he was here. I beat him too. You got thrown into big matches early in ACW because of what you did in AWA. You even won some of them. I don't book matches. But I took whoever was thrown at me, and tried to win. Most of the time, I did win.
I'm not going to spit names out at you Evan. You beat Snake once, so at that point and time, you were better than him. You've beaten Carnage too, in case Devon didn't know that. So at that point in time you were better than The Fallen Angel. But today, it is you're not better than me. At least not where you will be Sunday."
Nathan smirks, watching the camera with his dark eyes.
"I don't think you suck Evan. At least, not in the ring. What you do backstage is your business, but we're talking wrestling here. I can look back at past wins you've had. Carnage, Summers, Hyena, Omega are all names off the top of my head. You've beaten Heavyweight, U.S, and even Women champions. You've proven you can win.
But let me remind you of what I mentioned two weeks ago. You're a shell of the old Evan. You aren't the former champ anymore. You have to work to get back to that former Harrison. Until then you're the guy that beat Nightrider, Dice, and Griffin. You can drop names all you want, and I can do the same. Lawrence, Donovan, Smith, Mayhem, Liebert. All of these men you've lost to, some as the old Evan, some as the shell. But there always going to be losses. You can't change the past, only the future. And at the moment, you won't be fighting Lawrence or Donovan. Maybe you'll beat Smith when you two meet, and Mayhem down the road. Just as long as you understand that your future won't be changed this Sunday. You will lose, fall to the base of the mountain, and will be forced to climb to the top once more. It will be a good lesson for you. Never expect to leave only to return to the same spot on the mountain."
Nathan runs his gloved hand through his hair.
"And just to clairfy, I disrespect you because you disrespect me. Brooks can kiss your ass and mine too for all I care. I doubt Devon fought you so hard for what you said about Brooks. Sure, they're friends, but that isn't how Devon rolls. Sure, if you had attacked Brooks physically, Mayhem would've done more. But I doubt Brooks was hurt much in Aramillo. You attacked him with one line.
But you were right. Mayhem busted out the Jawjacker, and you still got caught in it. He leveled you, and you dropped like a log. So much for scouting two styles. But take that into consideration this week. In a match we're about to fight, you'll most likely face two styles also. Except you won't be able to prepare for Vlad because no one has seen him wrestle, and only Bubba has seen what Vlad can really do. You can't prepare for something like this. If I even knew what I did, I'd tell you so you'd be prepared. But I have no control of myself when Vlad comes out. It is your fault for wanting this match. Now you'll just have to pay the consqeunces. And, Evan, the prices are very high."
Nathan looks at Rocky once, scratching him behind the ear.
"It was kinda bad you did leave when you did. It is sad too. If you didn't like how the company was being run, why didn't you pick a side? Leaving a dirty bedroom thinking it would be clean when you get back doesn't get the job done. You truly made a mistake then. You could've been a threat eventually. You could've teamed with Bubba when he needed help with Travis. You could've helped Bubba when he needed it most. Prevented him from going to the Mental Institute with a concussion. Stopped him from meeting me, bringing, and eventually letting me loose. In the long run, you would've save yourself two losses against a crazy.
But you came back, expecting you start where you were when you left. You believed a few wins will lead to a title run. You thought you would be a threat. But you've been proven wrong once more. No beating the champ. No threat. Nothing spectacular. Your name only spoken by Laroux when you walk by, and he jokes with Voland about your losses.
So after this week, I'll be making the headlines. When photos of you lying in your own blood is taken, I'll be making headlines locally. . .nationally. . .internationally. . .Worldwide. Heck, I might just make a twitter to see my win trending. After this Sunday, I'll etch in stone that I'm the threat, not you."
Nathan holds his right hand up, pulling the glove off. For all to see, Nathan shows off his new tattoo. Nathan's right hand is completely red, like the stereotypical devil is colored. Wrapping around the wrist where the red stops, the words "Devil's Right Hand" is written in cursive and in black. After showing that off, Nathan balls his fist, and holds it at the camera. On each knuckle a letter is tattooed, spelling out "Vlad" Nathan finally withdraws his hand, tucking it in his pocket.
"I hope you saw that Harrison. You'll be marked this week, the first of many, by the Devil's Right Hand. Nothing more, nothing less. Until you reply, I have nothing to say to you. So I'll see you Sunday. I just hope you're ready."
The scene fades out.