Post by Nathan von Liebert on Oct 15, 2011 13:57:24 GMT -5
The scene opens to a crowded parking lot of some shopping mart, with spaces filled with cars, and people pushing carts to them. The wall of the building is to the camera's right, with bricks painted orange, naming this a Home Depot. The sound of a shopping cart is heard to the right, and the camera turns to see Nathan von Liebert pushing a filled shopping cart towards them. Instead of focusing as he walks on, the camera zooms in on the contents of the cart. A dozen light tubes is seen, along with a pane of glass.
Nathan walks past the camera, weaving through the parking spaces until he comes onto a red Ford F150. He drops the hood, and slowly unloads his belongings into the back. While he does so, he addresses the camera.
"Evan, you truly love to talk. But do you ever once think about what you say before you say it? I do want to beat you. I do need to beat you. But you go at this wrong. Not that what you say is wrong. I've beaten you once already, so a win this week won't be to say I've done that. Sure this is my first hardcore match since arriving, and I do need to win it. But did I ever want to fight you again. Not at all.
I beat you, and planned on leaving you in the mid-card matches so you could win some. I didn't ask to fight you again, so I didn't really get exactly what I wanted. At least at the moment you challenged me, I didn't want a rematch. But not I can't wait for this week. I can't wait to crush you like I did last week. I'm eager to beat you.
But really, you need to win this match more than I do. You've lost three matches in a row, and things aren't looking any better. You lost to me, a low rookie who playing off of what you think is a gimmick. And if you lose again, where will you be then? You might not understand, but this match means a lot for your career and where it is heading. It is a pity that I have to continue with your downfall. But it is your fault, not mine. You'll lose this week like usual, and I'll rack up win number seven."
Nathan turns, and sits down on the tailgate. He's wearing a bandana on his forehead, holding his black hair sticking up, along with a Braves Jersey and black shorts, along with convese shoes. Not glove is on his right hand, showing off his new ink, which blends in with the color of the truck he is resting on.
"I'm glad you see the logic in my point. But just as long as you understand it, and not look at it from what we've done in our careers. It we looked at in-ring talent by our career, Ric Flair would be better than Dolph Ziggler for his entire career, even if Ziggler beats him every fight they have. Talent isn't our past accomplishments, just how we handle the task at hand in the ring.
But you, unlike many others, don't see Vlad as a threat. Maybe because you haven't seen him in action. Maybe because I'm the one telling you. Should I call up my old nurses, or even Bubba himself. If my brother was alive, I'd let you call him and ask. They could all tell you how sadistic Vlad is, and you would believe every word he says. But you, Evan, will learn it the hard way, and you'll be a lesson for everyone else."
Nathan shakes his head in disgust. For what, we have no idea.
"But you're great at not covering the whole truth, Evan. I might've missed what you said, but I caught it. You stated in your professional career, you won a title within five weeks. Very good except for one thing. You fought as a teenager in ametuar before you ever went professional. There is no f[ACW censor] way you were a champ at age fourteen. So you just tried to spit out the half-truth, and it backfired.
That is impressive, I must say. A title in five weeks of your pro career. But when you had years to train as a teenager, I trained a few weeks with Bubba before I was thrown into this. I had none of this worthless appearences you had to practice my moves before I came out here. I was about as green as I could've been, and I started hot. You just can't admit that match to match, I did so much more than you. And while you're still trying to pick up the pieces, I'm continuing on performing feats."
Nathan smirks.
"But I did enjoy your little history lesson. Not because of your kickboxing training. I cared little for that, as it matters little if you incorporate that into our match this Sunday or not. I was happy to learn you have experience in hardcore situations like this upcoming match. It means you know what to do. It means you've felt pain before. It means when you lose this week, I can continue my tyrant on this company's belief that experience is everything.
A year of crazy matches? That is frickin' awesome. You've felt barbed wire, gone thru tables, and experienced being busted open. I wanted you to know all of that, but it seems you've already known it. So that means I have to be just a little more creative. But do you think because you did all of that years ago means you won't break against me Sunday? Years can make a new bike rusty, and a good wrestler bad. And like I stated in my previous promo, even if I don't break you, I still will. Because even though Vlad is who I think I am, it is my body that breaks your bones and busts your skull open.
And you know, this match isn't even for me to get noticed like yours were. Its not like this is an opening match to show my worth. You made the challenge, I accepted, and it was placed at the very top of the show because they know we will deliver. People like your brother and that homosexual at the hotel knows who I am just because you brought their attention on me two weeks ago. People like Purse, Aires, and Caid know who I am because they've all fallen to the Straight Jacket Drop. And most of all, followers know me because in my first five matches, I went four and one."
A black head sticks out from behind the bandana, and Rocky appears. His red eyes watch silently as he waits. Nathan fingers the ID necklace around his neck, staring past the camera.
"I'm glad you want surprises, Evan, because that is what I have to offer. They'll be surprises to me too, as I won't know what I do until I watch the tapes. But you're wrong when you think I just want to crack weapons over your head. Where is the fun in that? I want a moonsault onto you between two chairs. I want a Piledriver into a pile of tacks. I want to punch you with a glove that has glass glued on it. Sure, I might crack a chair over your head, but that isn't my entire match plan. Just benefits.
But then we come back to you denying my claim of my Multi Personality disorder. I understand that you, like many others in this federation, will not believe it till you see it. But why would I claim something like this as false, Evan? Do you think Purse would lick bells for his gimmick unless he actually suffered from OCD? That's a disgrace that you would degrade someone physical disorders, claiming it false and naming them a liar. So your ugliness can't be helped. It doesn't mean you can put down what I have to live with till I die.
I'm happy Tyler and your unnamed sister threw you off a stage. You probably deserved it. I'm glad you looked your boyfriend in the eye. But I'm not happy that you believe I'm doing this for attention. If I hadn't accepted your challenge, do you even think you'd be in the main event this week? Three losses isn't really something that earns a person time to shine in the Main Event. You need Main Event attention more than I do at the moment. When my career looks promising, your's looks like its about to hit rock bottom.
But hell, if my bloody face gets printed in all these magazines, I can't say anything bad. But I do have in mind the headline. 'Although Bloody, the Devil's Right Hand triumphs over The Nasty Video once more.' Yeah, I like that a lot."
Nathan reaches up and picks Rocky up, setting him in his lap.
"I really enjoyed your little bit with that cat, Evan. First a defenseless rat gets crushed by an elephant, and now you train a kitten to do what my rat already could. Very cute, but pointless. Rocky is just there, week in and week out, while you bring this feline out for one scene to prove some point. I made a reference to Tom and Jerry last week, and I won't repeat myself. You're friend won't help you win this week, and neither will Rocky."
Nathan scratches his head once, his eyes watching the camera.
"I do understand that in four years you've probably seen many different moves. My finishers are included in that. But I won't have reprecussions for them, as they're legal in regular matches. And break out this Figure Four Leg Lock for all I care. Use anything you got, because you'll need it all.
But just understand that this week you can't rely on what you've seen already. You've never fought me, and you've never seen what Vlad can do. How many matches have you been in where someone drove tacks through the earlobes? Have your opponents ever stapled your tongue to the roof of your mouth? How about shoving barbed wire up your nose just to see how far it can go? I'm not crazy enough to do so, but yet I am crazy enough. Because while we are two personalities, we are one person."
Nathan smirks again, and for once, eagerness flashes across his face. But then it returns to its cold exterior.
"But you're absolutely right. I'll show no mercy for you this week. If you're were booked in this match against your will, you might've got a little mercy. But you're a target now. A target that I'm going to crush. Bubba doesn't like it at all. He likes you, but that doesn't bother me. How is it fair that Bubba and I have been friends since he got into that Institute, and he pities you?! How is that FAIR!"
Something never seen before is Nathan von Liebert losing his cool and yelling. He brings both hands to his face, scratching them down his cheeks until they turn red. Thankfully there no blood was spilt. But Nathan holds both hands on his heads, like the Screaming Man, watching the camera.
"You made the mistake of ever naming yourself Bubba's number one fan, Evan."
Nathan pauses, just realizing that he was speaking with a Russian accent. Had Vlad appeared for just a moment? Nathan takes a deep breath, watching the camera.
"You're good, Evan. Not because you better in the ring, but because you actually weakened my hold on Vlad. Blood is a trigger, but that never meant it was the only way he could come out. You truly made yourself a target. Not only mine, but Vlad's too. He always remember the people that bring him out. A. . . trait of his.
You're better than me with submissions, high flying, and bullshitting, but none of that will help you this week. I'm the better brawler, the craziest, and the most hardcore. You truly will learn novelty when we fight, plus the first dosage of what pain is. Because even when I'm down, I'm not. And that is Revelation in my book."
The scene fades out.
Nathan walks past the camera, weaving through the parking spaces until he comes onto a red Ford F150. He drops the hood, and slowly unloads his belongings into the back. While he does so, he addresses the camera.
"Evan, you truly love to talk. But do you ever once think about what you say before you say it? I do want to beat you. I do need to beat you. But you go at this wrong. Not that what you say is wrong. I've beaten you once already, so a win this week won't be to say I've done that. Sure this is my first hardcore match since arriving, and I do need to win it. But did I ever want to fight you again. Not at all.
I beat you, and planned on leaving you in the mid-card matches so you could win some. I didn't ask to fight you again, so I didn't really get exactly what I wanted. At least at the moment you challenged me, I didn't want a rematch. But not I can't wait for this week. I can't wait to crush you like I did last week. I'm eager to beat you.
But really, you need to win this match more than I do. You've lost three matches in a row, and things aren't looking any better. You lost to me, a low rookie who playing off of what you think is a gimmick. And if you lose again, where will you be then? You might not understand, but this match means a lot for your career and where it is heading. It is a pity that I have to continue with your downfall. But it is your fault, not mine. You'll lose this week like usual, and I'll rack up win number seven."
Nathan turns, and sits down on the tailgate. He's wearing a bandana on his forehead, holding his black hair sticking up, along with a Braves Jersey and black shorts, along with convese shoes. Not glove is on his right hand, showing off his new ink, which blends in with the color of the truck he is resting on.
"I'm glad you see the logic in my point. But just as long as you understand it, and not look at it from what we've done in our careers. It we looked at in-ring talent by our career, Ric Flair would be better than Dolph Ziggler for his entire career, even if Ziggler beats him every fight they have. Talent isn't our past accomplishments, just how we handle the task at hand in the ring.
But you, unlike many others, don't see Vlad as a threat. Maybe because you haven't seen him in action. Maybe because I'm the one telling you. Should I call up my old nurses, or even Bubba himself. If my brother was alive, I'd let you call him and ask. They could all tell you how sadistic Vlad is, and you would believe every word he says. But you, Evan, will learn it the hard way, and you'll be a lesson for everyone else."
Nathan shakes his head in disgust. For what, we have no idea.
"But you're great at not covering the whole truth, Evan. I might've missed what you said, but I caught it. You stated in your professional career, you won a title within five weeks. Very good except for one thing. You fought as a teenager in ametuar before you ever went professional. There is no f[ACW censor] way you were a champ at age fourteen. So you just tried to spit out the half-truth, and it backfired.
That is impressive, I must say. A title in five weeks of your pro career. But when you had years to train as a teenager, I trained a few weeks with Bubba before I was thrown into this. I had none of this worthless appearences you had to practice my moves before I came out here. I was about as green as I could've been, and I started hot. You just can't admit that match to match, I did so much more than you. And while you're still trying to pick up the pieces, I'm continuing on performing feats."
Nathan smirks.
"But I did enjoy your little history lesson. Not because of your kickboxing training. I cared little for that, as it matters little if you incorporate that into our match this Sunday or not. I was happy to learn you have experience in hardcore situations like this upcoming match. It means you know what to do. It means you've felt pain before. It means when you lose this week, I can continue my tyrant on this company's belief that experience is everything.
A year of crazy matches? That is frickin' awesome. You've felt barbed wire, gone thru tables, and experienced being busted open. I wanted you to know all of that, but it seems you've already known it. So that means I have to be just a little more creative. But do you think because you did all of that years ago means you won't break against me Sunday? Years can make a new bike rusty, and a good wrestler bad. And like I stated in my previous promo, even if I don't break you, I still will. Because even though Vlad is who I think I am, it is my body that breaks your bones and busts your skull open.
And you know, this match isn't even for me to get noticed like yours were. Its not like this is an opening match to show my worth. You made the challenge, I accepted, and it was placed at the very top of the show because they know we will deliver. People like your brother and that homosexual at the hotel knows who I am just because you brought their attention on me two weeks ago. People like Purse, Aires, and Caid know who I am because they've all fallen to the Straight Jacket Drop. And most of all, followers know me because in my first five matches, I went four and one."
A black head sticks out from behind the bandana, and Rocky appears. His red eyes watch silently as he waits. Nathan fingers the ID necklace around his neck, staring past the camera.
"I'm glad you want surprises, Evan, because that is what I have to offer. They'll be surprises to me too, as I won't know what I do until I watch the tapes. But you're wrong when you think I just want to crack weapons over your head. Where is the fun in that? I want a moonsault onto you between two chairs. I want a Piledriver into a pile of tacks. I want to punch you with a glove that has glass glued on it. Sure, I might crack a chair over your head, but that isn't my entire match plan. Just benefits.
But then we come back to you denying my claim of my Multi Personality disorder. I understand that you, like many others in this federation, will not believe it till you see it. But why would I claim something like this as false, Evan? Do you think Purse would lick bells for his gimmick unless he actually suffered from OCD? That's a disgrace that you would degrade someone physical disorders, claiming it false and naming them a liar. So your ugliness can't be helped. It doesn't mean you can put down what I have to live with till I die.
I'm happy Tyler and your unnamed sister threw you off a stage. You probably deserved it. I'm glad you looked your boyfriend in the eye. But I'm not happy that you believe I'm doing this for attention. If I hadn't accepted your challenge, do you even think you'd be in the main event this week? Three losses isn't really something that earns a person time to shine in the Main Event. You need Main Event attention more than I do at the moment. When my career looks promising, your's looks like its about to hit rock bottom.
But hell, if my bloody face gets printed in all these magazines, I can't say anything bad. But I do have in mind the headline. 'Although Bloody, the Devil's Right Hand triumphs over The Nasty Video once more.' Yeah, I like that a lot."
Nathan reaches up and picks Rocky up, setting him in his lap.
"I really enjoyed your little bit with that cat, Evan. First a defenseless rat gets crushed by an elephant, and now you train a kitten to do what my rat already could. Very cute, but pointless. Rocky is just there, week in and week out, while you bring this feline out for one scene to prove some point. I made a reference to Tom and Jerry last week, and I won't repeat myself. You're friend won't help you win this week, and neither will Rocky."
Nathan scratches his head once, his eyes watching the camera.
"I do understand that in four years you've probably seen many different moves. My finishers are included in that. But I won't have reprecussions for them, as they're legal in regular matches. And break out this Figure Four Leg Lock for all I care. Use anything you got, because you'll need it all.
But just understand that this week you can't rely on what you've seen already. You've never fought me, and you've never seen what Vlad can do. How many matches have you been in where someone drove tacks through the earlobes? Have your opponents ever stapled your tongue to the roof of your mouth? How about shoving barbed wire up your nose just to see how far it can go? I'm not crazy enough to do so, but yet I am crazy enough. Because while we are two personalities, we are one person."
Nathan smirks again, and for once, eagerness flashes across his face. But then it returns to its cold exterior.
"But you're absolutely right. I'll show no mercy for you this week. If you're were booked in this match against your will, you might've got a little mercy. But you're a target now. A target that I'm going to crush. Bubba doesn't like it at all. He likes you, but that doesn't bother me. How is it fair that Bubba and I have been friends since he got into that Institute, and he pities you?! How is that FAIR!"
Something never seen before is Nathan von Liebert losing his cool and yelling. He brings both hands to his face, scratching them down his cheeks until they turn red. Thankfully there no blood was spilt. But Nathan holds both hands on his heads, like the Screaming Man, watching the camera.
"You made the mistake of ever naming yourself Bubba's number one fan, Evan."
Nathan pauses, just realizing that he was speaking with a Russian accent. Had Vlad appeared for just a moment? Nathan takes a deep breath, watching the camera.
"You're good, Evan. Not because you better in the ring, but because you actually weakened my hold on Vlad. Blood is a trigger, but that never meant it was the only way he could come out. You truly made yourself a target. Not only mine, but Vlad's too. He always remember the people that bring him out. A. . . trait of his.
You're better than me with submissions, high flying, and bullshitting, but none of that will help you this week. I'm the better brawler, the craziest, and the most hardcore. You truly will learn novelty when we fight, plus the first dosage of what pain is. Because even when I'm down, I'm not. And that is Revelation in my book."
The scene fades out.