Post by TheNewBreed on Sept 16, 2023 23:02:52 GMT -5
The exacting schedule of a day to day Johnathan Cable had already been in full swing for quite some time by the early afternoon media circus promoting the upcoming inaugural WGWF Melee card. The Beast had already finished his morning calisthenics, a sparring session with an aspiring young athlete from a gym overseas, his first open water swim, the two mile run back to the gym from down the beach, and a meeting with potential future investors at the New Breed HQ. Now... he was supposed to sit for the next two hours and talk to the reporters about the new show and his upcoming match on Melee. As an investor in the WGWF and an on air talent, he had more than a few questions thrown his way about the company, the outlook for the months to come, and a lot of people were looking for answers for their investment futures in the WGWF.
John understood the need for the media coverage and even the exorbitant amount the company had spent on marketing for the show in the last year. Promotion was everything, and if you weren't the biggest thing, you were nothing... at least as far rating were concerned anyway... and if nothing else, the WGWF had proven that in one year, they weren't just the biggest thing on TV, they were the only thing.
This media event proved it.
There were nearly a hundred different reporters here asking questions for one media outlet or another. Magazines, TV, radio, streaming services, and even some private pod-casters had made their way into the inner circle of the hype machine that had come from the growth of the WGWF over the last 11 months and counting. Chris Page had built himself a monolith to profit potential all over again... right on top of the ashes of the former federation... and here was John... right in the middle of it all.
Sometimes he wondered why he kept coming back here... but then... every night when he comes out of the tunnel and onto the stage... the cheers of the Breeders out there... knowing how many of them are out there watching around the world... he knows exactly why.
“So, Mr. Cable, what do you think your chances are this Monday on Melee in the Five Man Full Metal Mayhem?” a mousy faced young man asked the Beast across a card table set up in a partial cubicle erected for the event.
Fidgeting in the cramped space, hunched over the table glaring at him through the holes in his hardened leather mask, John sighed softly before answering the same question for the fifteenth time in the last hour.
“Well, if you know anything about my early career in wrestling, you know I cut my teeth in the business on the hardcore division. My first title was the EWCL Hardcore Title... and this is just my kind of carnage.” John said with the bored air of a rehearsed line practiced too many times already.
“Do you have a statement about the accusations being raised at you for the...” he began to ask about the Lexi Gold/ Amber Mansley incident from a few weeks ago before John cuts him off abruptly.
“I had nothing to do with that. I wasn't there. Lexi Gold will have to be reached to make any comments on her behalf to the situation. I have no further comment on that matter. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss? No? Alright... it's been a pleasure. Have a great day.” John says curtly, his gravely words echoing from inside the mask, as he shakes the young man's hand briskly and stands to leave the makeshift booth.
After several more interviews with various reporters, John finally made his way to the main stage of the event for the closing presser, and as the fans cheered for him after his brand positive speech to the crowd, he disappeared from the stage with a gallant wave in a swirl of purple smoke and hard-light with a loud POP.
* * * * *
With a sudden burst of purple smoke, a flash of lavender light, and a POP that echoes through the garage, John Cable appears next to the Axtgriff FTV beneath the HQ bunker. R2-IDEA floats across the hood of the truck from the diagnostic bay nearby, and flutters the shutter on its green “eye” in the center of it's tan plates.
“Hello, John Cable. Welcome back. We have fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your afternoon meeting upstairs, and then at four you have a meeting with Orca Management for next season's salary discussions. After that, you have...” IDEA chatters on detailing the event of Cable's agenda for the rest of the day as John looks over some data sheets on a desk nearby.
As the AI droned on about the schedule, his green eye flashed, went black, and flashed red as the once normal upbeat electronic voice of the droid once again lowered in tone and became a menacing warning.
“ACTIVATING ALPHA SCANS... ANOMALY DETECTED... ACTIVATING ALPHA PROTOCOL...” the egg shape droid hissed as the tan plates of his carapace popped free and raised as steam jetted from the cracks and the entire AI glowed crimson from the inside. The shutters over the now red “eye” light clicked closed, then opened, then closed again, before opening wide, and the entire garage was bathed in a bright red hard light as the heavy smell of copper overtook John's olfactory system.
Moments later... John flips through some data sheets on the desk nearby as he waits for his afternoon meetings to begin and the R2 droid floats across the garage in a hurry.
“John Cable. A timeline anomaly has been discovered.” the R2 buzzes as he clocks his green lighted “eye” at John.
“What does that mean, exactly?” John asks, fearing the answer, but needing to know what the droid means.
“A divergent timeline has occurred. I have rectified this anomaly for now, but I believe it was a purposefully created occurrence, and probability dictates it will happen again.” the droid buzzes excitedly.
“Should I cancel my...” John starts, before R2 cuts in.
“There is no need to change your schedule. I have began scanning protocols for further anomalies, and will take action as needed to ensure no further incursion events are possible. Please proceed normally. I will keep you advised of any changes in that status.” R2 assures him.
“OK. Let me know if you find anything.” John says as he makes his way towards the elevator that leads to the company garages far above them before disappearing behind two large metal sliding doors as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Several hours later, the investors meeting had gone well, and John had made his way back down to the private garage area where he had helped R2-IDEA build an engineering bay that would be able to keep up with the future technology the AI was using. Once the garage was finished, it had allowed the egg shaped droid to make many more wonderful gadgets, such as the upgrades it had installed in the TAG Heuer watch Lexi had given him for Christmas last year.
He loved the watch, and missed his friend... but there was a lot to do and Lexi had assured him if she needed him she would call. He was trusting her to keep her promise. He thought about her as he sat at the desk nearby, his finger tracing the edge of the watch-face on his wrist absentmindedly as he stared at nothing.
“John Cable. Preparations are finished. I am ready to depart when you are prepared.” the droid buzzed at John over the space of the garage.
“Oh... uh... yeah. I um... I'm ready now, I guess.” John stammers slightly, startled out of his thoughts of Lexi as he looks at his watch, stands from the antique wooden rolling chair, pushing it back under the desk, and makes his way towards the driver's side of the Axtgriff.
R2 floats over to the truck as cables exit small holes in the plating on the tan colored eggs shell, and wriggle like tiny tentacles before plugging into the back wall station and drawing the droid into it's proper spot, clicking in place, and checking the systems on the truck as it's interface comes online.
John climbs into the truck and shuts the door behind him as he looks over his shoulder a the little droid. A lot had happened since he met IDEA, and a lot still remained to happen if he was to actually fulfill his destiny to the timeline as the Elder had told him... and this little droid was the key to it all.
As he thought about what the future would hold, the now familiar sense of fizzing inside filled his guts as the quantum engine churned up and got ready to make the jump. Purple smoke swirled around the truck as a bright purple glow flashed and a loud POP echoed inside the garage, and in a moment, they were gone.
* * * * *
POP
Purple light flash and standard swirl of magic smoke...
For a moment, as brief as it was... there was a parking lot in Orlando. Evergreen Field was there, the small amusement park outside was in full swing and the flags for the next season were already waving above the entrance gates. The sun was shining, and people were laughing and enjoying an early fall day at the family destination John had turned the Stadium into this year.
But it was only a moment... and then the world turned upside down and went pitch black as the Axtgriff was swallowed by a ring of blue electricity that opened wide, and flooded everything with a void of anything, plunging R2 and Cable into an abyss of blackness with the truck and nothing more before the ring snapped closed and they were gone again.
After long moments in the dark, a screen on the dash flares to life, flooding the cabin of the truck with pale blue light as the system boots up. We see John's mask, glinting in the bright light of the screen in contrast to the void of light outside.
“Please remain seated, and attach your safety harness tightly, John Cable.” the buzzing electrical voice of R2 filters through the speakers.
Without hesitation, John reaches over his shoulders and pulls the harness belts down from the slots in the seat over his chest and clicks them into a piece of hardware in his lap. He then grabs two other belts from both sides of the seat, and clicks them into the remaining slots on the harness as well.
“Where are we?” John's gravely voice echoes form inside his mask, terror tinged and a touch manic.
“Where is an interesting question, actually, John Cable.” R2 responds.
“What does that mean?” John asks curtly, definitely not in the mood for cryptic answers given the situation at hand.
“I believe that 'where' is an impossible answer to ascertain. According to the data I have gathered, we are actually inside of a dimensional rift, John Cable.” the droid chirped and whirred in a tone that seemed like excitement almost.
“So... basically we're stuck in a portable hole?” John asks incredulously, his tone dry.
“In terms that you are familiar with, basically, yes, John Cable. We are essentially inside of the magic item commonly referred to as a 'portable hole'. A 'pocket dimension' would be more precise I believe, but, yes. That is correct.” the droid responds.
“What... the fuck? How does that even actually exist? How did we end up in one? And... how the hell do we get out?” John demands, the terror in his tone far more prevalent now as he grasps the situation a little better now.
“This technology is actually very similar to technology you already owned, John Cable. It is a different application than the dimensional controller you possess, but the technology is definitely of the same origin. The energy signatures are similar enough, and dimensional frequencies are identical. This technology is most certainly derived from the Counsel of Shane's original models, and is assuredly at least from their home dimension, if not directly from the Shane's themselves. As to how we ended up here? My scans show that as we appeared in the parking lot in Orlando, a dimensional pocket was formed around our moment in time space, and we were pulled into this place inside of the pocket. As to how do we get out? I can just transport us home again, but there are many implications here that need to be explored. This is, if nothing else, an anomaly in the timeline, and this must be rectified to restore the primary timeline moving forward. This is of the utmost importance to our mission.” the egg shaped droid chimed in over the speakers.
'OK, well... let's at least get the hell out of here. We can go back to the garage and figure this out there. Really, anywhere but here would be great.” John said as he looked out of the windows of the truck into the black nothingness of the void around them and shuddered to himself.
“And how the fuck am I supposed to protect you from inter-dimensional portal technology? For fuck's sake! You can't just have normal rich dude issues like international terrorists and ransom letters... OH NO... You have a counsel of dimension hopping psychopaths waging a war from a decade ago across dimensional barriers!” Darina shouts, hysterically, in the open garage bay at the Foundation HQ.
John and Aaron both wince beneath their masks as she screams at them, both because Darina this pissed off was terrifying, and also that they really didn't even know how to answer the perfectly logical question.
John understood the need for the media coverage and even the exorbitant amount the company had spent on marketing for the show in the last year. Promotion was everything, and if you weren't the biggest thing, you were nothing... at least as far rating were concerned anyway... and if nothing else, the WGWF had proven that in one year, they weren't just the biggest thing on TV, they were the only thing.
This media event proved it.
There were nearly a hundred different reporters here asking questions for one media outlet or another. Magazines, TV, radio, streaming services, and even some private pod-casters had made their way into the inner circle of the hype machine that had come from the growth of the WGWF over the last 11 months and counting. Chris Page had built himself a monolith to profit potential all over again... right on top of the ashes of the former federation... and here was John... right in the middle of it all.
Sometimes he wondered why he kept coming back here... but then... every night when he comes out of the tunnel and onto the stage... the cheers of the Breeders out there... knowing how many of them are out there watching around the world... he knows exactly why.
“So, Mr. Cable, what do you think your chances are this Monday on Melee in the Five Man Full Metal Mayhem?” a mousy faced young man asked the Beast across a card table set up in a partial cubicle erected for the event.
Fidgeting in the cramped space, hunched over the table glaring at him through the holes in his hardened leather mask, John sighed softly before answering the same question for the fifteenth time in the last hour.
“Well, if you know anything about my early career in wrestling, you know I cut my teeth in the business on the hardcore division. My first title was the EWCL Hardcore Title... and this is just my kind of carnage.” John said with the bored air of a rehearsed line practiced too many times already.
“Do you have a statement about the accusations being raised at you for the...” he began to ask about the Lexi Gold/ Amber Mansley incident from a few weeks ago before John cuts him off abruptly.
“I had nothing to do with that. I wasn't there. Lexi Gold will have to be reached to make any comments on her behalf to the situation. I have no further comment on that matter. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss? No? Alright... it's been a pleasure. Have a great day.” John says curtly, his gravely words echoing from inside the mask, as he shakes the young man's hand briskly and stands to leave the makeshift booth.
After several more interviews with various reporters, John finally made his way to the main stage of the event for the closing presser, and as the fans cheered for him after his brand positive speech to the crowd, he disappeared from the stage with a gallant wave in a swirl of purple smoke and hard-light with a loud POP.
* * * * *
With a sudden burst of purple smoke, a flash of lavender light, and a POP that echoes through the garage, John Cable appears next to the Axtgriff FTV beneath the HQ bunker. R2-IDEA floats across the hood of the truck from the diagnostic bay nearby, and flutters the shutter on its green “eye” in the center of it's tan plates.
“Hello, John Cable. Welcome back. We have fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your afternoon meeting upstairs, and then at four you have a meeting with Orca Management for next season's salary discussions. After that, you have...” IDEA chatters on detailing the event of Cable's agenda for the rest of the day as John looks over some data sheets on a desk nearby.
As the AI droned on about the schedule, his green eye flashed, went black, and flashed red as the once normal upbeat electronic voice of the droid once again lowered in tone and became a menacing warning.
“ACTIVATING ALPHA SCANS... ANOMALY DETECTED... ACTIVATING ALPHA PROTOCOL...” the egg shape droid hissed as the tan plates of his carapace popped free and raised as steam jetted from the cracks and the entire AI glowed crimson from the inside. The shutters over the now red “eye” light clicked closed, then opened, then closed again, before opening wide, and the entire garage was bathed in a bright red hard light as the heavy smell of copper overtook John's olfactory system.
Moments later... John flips through some data sheets on the desk nearby as he waits for his afternoon meetings to begin and the R2 droid floats across the garage in a hurry.
“John Cable. A timeline anomaly has been discovered.” the R2 buzzes as he clocks his green lighted “eye” at John.
“What does that mean, exactly?” John asks, fearing the answer, but needing to know what the droid means.
“A divergent timeline has occurred. I have rectified this anomaly for now, but I believe it was a purposefully created occurrence, and probability dictates it will happen again.” the droid buzzes excitedly.
“Should I cancel my...” John starts, before R2 cuts in.
“There is no need to change your schedule. I have began scanning protocols for further anomalies, and will take action as needed to ensure no further incursion events are possible. Please proceed normally. I will keep you advised of any changes in that status.” R2 assures him.
“OK. Let me know if you find anything.” John says as he makes his way towards the elevator that leads to the company garages far above them before disappearing behind two large metal sliding doors as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Several hours later, the investors meeting had gone well, and John had made his way back down to the private garage area where he had helped R2-IDEA build an engineering bay that would be able to keep up with the future technology the AI was using. Once the garage was finished, it had allowed the egg shaped droid to make many more wonderful gadgets, such as the upgrades it had installed in the TAG Heuer watch Lexi had given him for Christmas last year.
He loved the watch, and missed his friend... but there was a lot to do and Lexi had assured him if she needed him she would call. He was trusting her to keep her promise. He thought about her as he sat at the desk nearby, his finger tracing the edge of the watch-face on his wrist absentmindedly as he stared at nothing.
“John Cable. Preparations are finished. I am ready to depart when you are prepared.” the droid buzzed at John over the space of the garage.
“Oh... uh... yeah. I um... I'm ready now, I guess.” John stammers slightly, startled out of his thoughts of Lexi as he looks at his watch, stands from the antique wooden rolling chair, pushing it back under the desk, and makes his way towards the driver's side of the Axtgriff.
R2 floats over to the truck as cables exit small holes in the plating on the tan colored eggs shell, and wriggle like tiny tentacles before plugging into the back wall station and drawing the droid into it's proper spot, clicking in place, and checking the systems on the truck as it's interface comes online.
John climbs into the truck and shuts the door behind him as he looks over his shoulder a the little droid. A lot had happened since he met IDEA, and a lot still remained to happen if he was to actually fulfill his destiny to the timeline as the Elder had told him... and this little droid was the key to it all.
As he thought about what the future would hold, the now familiar sense of fizzing inside filled his guts as the quantum engine churned up and got ready to make the jump. Purple smoke swirled around the truck as a bright purple glow flashed and a loud POP echoed inside the garage, and in a moment, they were gone.
* * * * *
* * * * *
POP
Purple light flash and standard swirl of magic smoke...
For a moment, as brief as it was... there was a parking lot in Orlando. Evergreen Field was there, the small amusement park outside was in full swing and the flags for the next season were already waving above the entrance gates. The sun was shining, and people were laughing and enjoying an early fall day at the family destination John had turned the Stadium into this year.
But it was only a moment... and then the world turned upside down and went pitch black as the Axtgriff was swallowed by a ring of blue electricity that opened wide, and flooded everything with a void of anything, plunging R2 and Cable into an abyss of blackness with the truck and nothing more before the ring snapped closed and they were gone again.
* * * * *
The sound of heavy breaths being drawn in and slowly let out pervades the darkness.
In...
Out...
In...
Out...
In...
Out...
In...
Out...
After long moments in the dark, a screen on the dash flares to life, flooding the cabin of the truck with pale blue light as the system boots up. We see John's mask, glinting in the bright light of the screen in contrast to the void of light outside.
“Please remain seated, and attach your safety harness tightly, John Cable.” the buzzing electrical voice of R2 filters through the speakers.
Without hesitation, John reaches over his shoulders and pulls the harness belts down from the slots in the seat over his chest and clicks them into a piece of hardware in his lap. He then grabs two other belts from both sides of the seat, and clicks them into the remaining slots on the harness as well.
“Where are we?” John's gravely voice echoes form inside his mask, terror tinged and a touch manic.
“Where is an interesting question, actually, John Cable.” R2 responds.
“What does that mean?” John asks curtly, definitely not in the mood for cryptic answers given the situation at hand.
“I believe that 'where' is an impossible answer to ascertain. According to the data I have gathered, we are actually inside of a dimensional rift, John Cable.” the droid chirped and whirred in a tone that seemed like excitement almost.
“So... basically we're stuck in a portable hole?” John asks incredulously, his tone dry.
“In terms that you are familiar with, basically, yes, John Cable. We are essentially inside of the magic item commonly referred to as a 'portable hole'. A 'pocket dimension' would be more precise I believe, but, yes. That is correct.” the droid responds.
“What... the fuck? How does that even actually exist? How did we end up in one? And... how the hell do we get out?” John demands, the terror in his tone far more prevalent now as he grasps the situation a little better now.
“This technology is actually very similar to technology you already owned, John Cable. It is a different application than the dimensional controller you possess, but the technology is definitely of the same origin. The energy signatures are similar enough, and dimensional frequencies are identical. This technology is most certainly derived from the Counsel of Shane's original models, and is assuredly at least from their home dimension, if not directly from the Shane's themselves. As to how we ended up here? My scans show that as we appeared in the parking lot in Orlando, a dimensional pocket was formed around our moment in time space, and we were pulled into this place inside of the pocket. As to how do we get out? I can just transport us home again, but there are many implications here that need to be explored. This is, if nothing else, an anomaly in the timeline, and this must be rectified to restore the primary timeline moving forward. This is of the utmost importance to our mission.” the egg shaped droid chimed in over the speakers.
'OK, well... let's at least get the hell out of here. We can go back to the garage and figure this out there. Really, anywhere but here would be great.” John said as he looked out of the windows of the truck into the black nothingness of the void around them and shuddered to himself.
* * * * *
“And how the fuck am I supposed to protect you from inter-dimensional portal technology? For fuck's sake! You can't just have normal rich dude issues like international terrorists and ransom letters... OH NO... You have a counsel of dimension hopping psychopaths waging a war from a decade ago across dimensional barriers!” Darina shouts, hysterically, in the open garage bay at the Foundation HQ.
John and Aaron both wince beneath their masks as she screams at them, both because Darina this pissed off was terrifying, and also that they really didn't even know how to answer the perfectly logical question.
How was she supposed to protect them now? How indeed...
* * * * *
At my age... there's always the question...
“When is it time to call it quits?”
A lot of people ask me that... and I never really know what to tell them. I mean, sure... I've done a lot in my years in the ring, and I could easily become a trainer to the next generation of Superstars that are coming of age now and are both hungry enough to become the next best thing, and eager enough to dive into the fight with everything they have to give.
In truth... I have been spending a lot of my time in the gyms I own around the world looking for a talent to train and show the ropes to. I've been looking for that one diamond in the rough to deserve every lesson Hank ever taught me... but while I've seen some great young athletes... I haven't found the one to bear my legacy into the next age of our industry.
People will look at that in a lot of different ways, but to me... I see it as my sign my time ain't up yet... and if the events of the last year are any indication... I still have a lot to do.
The first thing on my list of things to knock off a list is the inaugural WGW Melee coming up in just a few days. A tribute show to Justin York... and the dawning of a new era in the WGWF. You see... while everyone is just looking at Melee as one more show to see the Superstars of the WGWF, I know what it really is.
This is far more important to the history of the company than any of you even realize, and as the last of the old heads around here, I guess it's gonna have to be my job to teach y'all a thing or three.
Monday night, when the lights go up on WGWF Melee... the world will bear witness to the first ever brand expansion in the history of the WGWF. Sure... the brand has had some house shows here and there over the years, and we did have WGWF Dark... but Melee is he first time hat the WGWF has had a full fledged second show airing on a regular schedule and covered worldwide.
This is the next biggest step in the growth of the WGWF... and I'm here for it... decades later... and I'm lucky enough to get to go back to my roots with a Full Metal Mayhem match against some of the biggest new names in the company!
I have to wonder though... how are these guys gonna hold up under the pressure on such a massive stage... in the biggest company on the planet... so early in their careers here? I mean, I don't think for a second that Enigma is gonna have stage fright. He just beat Peter Vaughn in front of a couple hundred thousand screaming fans at Us vs Them in what some are calling an 'upset victory to write home about'.
Compared to that, this match should be a walk in the park... should be... but it isn't... is it, Enigma?
No... matches like these aren't just one on one tests of your skills or endurance. This is a war... and I know you know what that means. I checked into you when the teams were announced, and I have to say... I never doubted you could pull the win for Us, and you didn't let Us down. But you know this isn't the same thing, Enigma. This is about cunning and opportunity...
Speaking of cunning... Dubois... what does one even say to you?
Mysterious and perplexing for sure... demons chattering in your mind and distractions fluttering through your thoughts. Unpredictable and an opportunist for sure... but do you have what it takes to stand against four other men who want to win as much as you do? Maybe more? Will you be the one who is in just the right place at just the right time to steal the win on Monday, or will you be one of the men who watches on as another hand is raised in victory? Will you walk away from this historic event finally emerging from the shadows of greater stars to claim your own place at the table for a change? Or will you fail in the limelight, and remain just one more shadow in the under-card wishing you had tried harder when you had the chance?
I have run the gauntlet for more than three decades... decorated myself with the accolades of hardcore infamy... defended those Titles in the most vicious of manners... and relished every moment of it. Once more, for the glory of the Breeders and the honor found only in the hardest fought victories... I lace up my boots and climb into that ring to wage war against men who are hungry and eager... but the test still yet remains before them all... to face the Beast... and survive to tell the tale... or be devoured in the process.
Monday night... we find out just who has the grit to yank a victory from the pile of
“When is it time to call it quits?”
A lot of people ask me that... and I never really know what to tell them. I mean, sure... I've done a lot in my years in the ring, and I could easily become a trainer to the next generation of Superstars that are coming of age now and are both hungry enough to become the next best thing, and eager enough to dive into the fight with everything they have to give.
In truth... I have been spending a lot of my time in the gyms I own around the world looking for a talent to train and show the ropes to. I've been looking for that one diamond in the rough to deserve every lesson Hank ever taught me... but while I've seen some great young athletes... I haven't found the one to bear my legacy into the next age of our industry.
People will look at that in a lot of different ways, but to me... I see it as my sign my time ain't up yet... and if the events of the last year are any indication... I still have a lot to do.
The first thing on my list of things to knock off a list is the inaugural WGW Melee coming up in just a few days. A tribute show to Justin York... and the dawning of a new era in the WGWF. You see... while everyone is just looking at Melee as one more show to see the Superstars of the WGWF, I know what it really is.
This is far more important to the history of the company than any of you even realize, and as the last of the old heads around here, I guess it's gonna have to be my job to teach y'all a thing or three.
Monday night, when the lights go up on WGWF Melee... the world will bear witness to the first ever brand expansion in the history of the WGWF. Sure... the brand has had some house shows here and there over the years, and we did have WGWF Dark... but Melee is he first time hat the WGWF has had a full fledged second show airing on a regular schedule and covered worldwide.
This is the next biggest step in the growth of the WGWF... and I'm here for it... decades later... and I'm lucky enough to get to go back to my roots with a Full Metal Mayhem match against some of the biggest new names in the company!
I have to wonder though... how are these guys gonna hold up under the pressure on such a massive stage... in the biggest company on the planet... so early in their careers here? I mean, I don't think for a second that Enigma is gonna have stage fright. He just beat Peter Vaughn in front of a couple hundred thousand screaming fans at Us vs Them in what some are calling an 'upset victory to write home about'.
Compared to that, this match should be a walk in the park... should be... but it isn't... is it, Enigma?
No... matches like these aren't just one on one tests of your skills or endurance. This is a war... and I know you know what that means. I checked into you when the teams were announced, and I have to say... I never doubted you could pull the win for Us, and you didn't let Us down. But you know this isn't the same thing, Enigma. This is about cunning and opportunity...
Speaking of cunning... Dubois... what does one even say to you?
Mysterious and perplexing for sure... demons chattering in your mind and distractions fluttering through your thoughts. Unpredictable and an opportunist for sure... but do you have what it takes to stand against four other men who want to win as much as you do? Maybe more? Will you be the one who is in just the right place at just the right time to steal the win on Monday, or will you be one of the men who watches on as another hand is raised in victory? Will you walk away from this historic event finally emerging from the shadows of greater stars to claim your own place at the table for a change? Or will you fail in the limelight, and remain just one more shadow in the under-card wishing you had tried harder when you had the chance?
I have run the gauntlet for more than three decades... decorated myself with the accolades of hardcore infamy... defended those Titles in the most vicious of manners... and relished every moment of it. Once more, for the glory of the Breeders and the honor found only in the hardest fought victories... I lace up my boots and climb into that ring to wage war against men who are hungry and eager... but the test still yet remains before them all... to face the Beast... and survive to tell the tale... or be devoured in the process.
Monday night... we find out just who has the grit to yank a victory from the pile of
bodies broken twisted on the pyre of the squared circle... and I can't wait.