Post by M.D.K. on Aug 26, 2007 13:39:29 GMT -5
M.D.K.: “Ah, home. About fucking time.”
(M.D.K. drops his bags in the doorway of his Docklands apartment and walks through to his kitchen. He looks exhausted from his flight as he reaches the fridge and opens it up to pull out a bottle of white wine and from his chrome draining board, he takes a crystal glass and places it down. With the corkscrew that was already on the work surface, he quickly uncorks the wine and fills his glass to the top. He puts the bottle back on the work surface and wedges the cork back in partially as he takes his drink with him into the living room and sinks into his large black leather sofa. He glances into the camera with a glint in his eye.)
M.D.K.: “Before any implications of similarity are bought in here, I have been using this tried and tested method of ripping into my opponents for a long, long time and it has got me far. This far in fact.”
(He withdraws from beside the sofa, his WGWF Intercontinental Title belt.)
M.D.K.: “I am tryig very hard to bite my tongue and not tear you to shred now pal but you make it increasingly difficult when you pop out with incomprehensible bullshit and poorly thought out banter that would be apt for any other mortal on this roster but not me, not M.D.K.”
“How in the world am I a rookie? Why in the world would I be in an abandoned house? Do you even follow the product Sentinel? . Your entire career is based on grade ‘1’ bullshit and that is not what a career should be based on. Why don’t you step out from behind the masks and veils of gimmicks and face me man to man?”
(He drains his glass and stands up to walk back into the kitchen, he un-stoppers the bottle and pours another full glass of wine of which he takes a mouthful and continues while resting against his black marble worktop.)
M.D.K.: “The simple answer is that you can’t can you Sentinel. For too long, you have hidden under the guise of somebody else – one who has had a life better than your own so that you can feel good about yourself, so that you can escape to a twisted solace because your life is so fucking depressing, that you can’t bear to look at your real self in the mirror. You want to be like the guys that are flying high in this company. The Chris Pages, the Dean James’s, the Frosts, the M.D.K.s because we are the types of people that are respect and feared in equal measure. Regardless of my name, my look or my music, at the end of the day I am judged for the person that I truly am while you are judged on the person that you pretend to be.”
“It’s pathetic to see somebody that lacks the heat and the will to win step through those ropes week in, week out and actually believe that they are doing the company a favour? Sentinel, in the weeks I was under the surgeon’s knife, I was more effective and did more for this company than you did while you go on your underwhelming losing streaks! Yet you still have the audacity to claim that I am a rookie? Why didn’t you put your Internet title on the line against any one that came along each week? Was it because you knew you would lose? Was it because you felt your own ineptitude flow through your veins like heroin flows through a junkie’s?”
“Do you really think I want to undergo as something s uncontrollable as a casket match just 7 days after I put my body and soul on the line in a ladder match? Do you really think I should even be defending my title? Sentinel, you are blessed with a man that is not entirely in the game and not entirely on the ball but I guarantee that you will endure the match of your life. It will be a match that – contrary to your belief – you have already had. I have never beaten you. Is the list of victors so long now that you can’t remember all of their names?”
“Even with Hall of Fame accolades, even with World titles from four different companies and even with more respect than you could ever dream of, I am still at the prime of my career, I am still a main eventer, I am still the poster adorned on millions of walls across the world and I am still the Most Valuable Player on this roster. Bellingham knows it; management knows it, that’s why they tell me that they know that I don’t need this company, that there are countless companies crying out for someone like me that has the experience and the ability to Main Event anywhere in the world. While I turn down offers from all directions, you cling onto the last few strands of a long extinguished career. Hoping that you will be able to be seen in the light that you fantasise that you were once in but you never were Sentinel – in the eyes of everyone you have never been a major player and now your name holds even less stock! You are ridiculed by all around you, mocked by those that don’t even know you. Doesn’t it make you want to throw in the towel… again Sentinel?”
(With that he slams his glass hard down on the marble work surface causing it to shatter in M.D.K.’s hand. He clutches it tight against his chest and winces before putting it in front of him to inspect closely. Almost transfixed by his wound, he walks through the lounge in an almost trance and goes out onto the balcony of his apartment over looking the River Thames. He watches carefully as the blood trickles down his arm and cascades to form a drip at the elbow. He watches intently as a solitary drop of blood falls from his arm and is taken away across the London night skyline by a cooling winter breeze. Despite a light sprinkling of summer rain on the balcony and a faint dusting showering over the London scenery, M.D.K. sits comfortably in just trousers and a t-shirt as he continues to gaze at the blood.)
M.D.K.: “The winds of change are upon us. Gone is the M.D.K. of old who waits for his potential successors to come and challenge his throne. This is the era where I will nip everyone in the bud and beat everyone to the punch. This is the time where I dictate who earns the right to face me, this is where I take no more bullshit and no more offers of friendship. This is a lone wolf now – out in the desolate, cold wilderness alone and prepared to do whatever it takes to get what I want and beat who I fight. Sentinel, you are unfortunate enough to be facing me on this fateful Brawl because you are about to undergo a dramatic turning point in your life, one which has no happy ending and no good path to take. It is a path of realisation Sentinel, realisation that not only are you not in my league, but that you are truly and utterly INFERIOR!”
(M.D.K. drops his bags in the doorway of his Docklands apartment and walks through to his kitchen. He looks exhausted from his flight as he reaches the fridge and opens it up to pull out a bottle of white wine and from his chrome draining board, he takes a crystal glass and places it down. With the corkscrew that was already on the work surface, he quickly uncorks the wine and fills his glass to the top. He puts the bottle back on the work surface and wedges the cork back in partially as he takes his drink with him into the living room and sinks into his large black leather sofa. He glances into the camera with a glint in his eye.)
M.D.K.: “Before any implications of similarity are bought in here, I have been using this tried and tested method of ripping into my opponents for a long, long time and it has got me far. This far in fact.”
(He withdraws from beside the sofa, his WGWF Intercontinental Title belt.)
M.D.K.: “I am tryig very hard to bite my tongue and not tear you to shred now pal but you make it increasingly difficult when you pop out with incomprehensible bullshit and poorly thought out banter that would be apt for any other mortal on this roster but not me, not M.D.K.”
“How in the world am I a rookie? Why in the world would I be in an abandoned house? Do you even follow the product Sentinel? . Your entire career is based on grade ‘1’ bullshit and that is not what a career should be based on. Why don’t you step out from behind the masks and veils of gimmicks and face me man to man?”
(He drains his glass and stands up to walk back into the kitchen, he un-stoppers the bottle and pours another full glass of wine of which he takes a mouthful and continues while resting against his black marble worktop.)
M.D.K.: “The simple answer is that you can’t can you Sentinel. For too long, you have hidden under the guise of somebody else – one who has had a life better than your own so that you can feel good about yourself, so that you can escape to a twisted solace because your life is so fucking depressing, that you can’t bear to look at your real self in the mirror. You want to be like the guys that are flying high in this company. The Chris Pages, the Dean James’s, the Frosts, the M.D.K.s because we are the types of people that are respect and feared in equal measure. Regardless of my name, my look or my music, at the end of the day I am judged for the person that I truly am while you are judged on the person that you pretend to be.”
“It’s pathetic to see somebody that lacks the heat and the will to win step through those ropes week in, week out and actually believe that they are doing the company a favour? Sentinel, in the weeks I was under the surgeon’s knife, I was more effective and did more for this company than you did while you go on your underwhelming losing streaks! Yet you still have the audacity to claim that I am a rookie? Why didn’t you put your Internet title on the line against any one that came along each week? Was it because you knew you would lose? Was it because you felt your own ineptitude flow through your veins like heroin flows through a junkie’s?”
“Do you really think I want to undergo as something s uncontrollable as a casket match just 7 days after I put my body and soul on the line in a ladder match? Do you really think I should even be defending my title? Sentinel, you are blessed with a man that is not entirely in the game and not entirely on the ball but I guarantee that you will endure the match of your life. It will be a match that – contrary to your belief – you have already had. I have never beaten you. Is the list of victors so long now that you can’t remember all of their names?”
“Even with Hall of Fame accolades, even with World titles from four different companies and even with more respect than you could ever dream of, I am still at the prime of my career, I am still a main eventer, I am still the poster adorned on millions of walls across the world and I am still the Most Valuable Player on this roster. Bellingham knows it; management knows it, that’s why they tell me that they know that I don’t need this company, that there are countless companies crying out for someone like me that has the experience and the ability to Main Event anywhere in the world. While I turn down offers from all directions, you cling onto the last few strands of a long extinguished career. Hoping that you will be able to be seen in the light that you fantasise that you were once in but you never were Sentinel – in the eyes of everyone you have never been a major player and now your name holds even less stock! You are ridiculed by all around you, mocked by those that don’t even know you. Doesn’t it make you want to throw in the towel… again Sentinel?”
(With that he slams his glass hard down on the marble work surface causing it to shatter in M.D.K.’s hand. He clutches it tight against his chest and winces before putting it in front of him to inspect closely. Almost transfixed by his wound, he walks through the lounge in an almost trance and goes out onto the balcony of his apartment over looking the River Thames. He watches carefully as the blood trickles down his arm and cascades to form a drip at the elbow. He watches intently as a solitary drop of blood falls from his arm and is taken away across the London night skyline by a cooling winter breeze. Despite a light sprinkling of summer rain on the balcony and a faint dusting showering over the London scenery, M.D.K. sits comfortably in just trousers and a t-shirt as he continues to gaze at the blood.)
M.D.K.: “The winds of change are upon us. Gone is the M.D.K. of old who waits for his potential successors to come and challenge his throne. This is the era where I will nip everyone in the bud and beat everyone to the punch. This is the time where I dictate who earns the right to face me, this is where I take no more bullshit and no more offers of friendship. This is a lone wolf now – out in the desolate, cold wilderness alone and prepared to do whatever it takes to get what I want and beat who I fight. Sentinel, you are unfortunate enough to be facing me on this fateful Brawl because you are about to undergo a dramatic turning point in your life, one which has no happy ending and no good path to take. It is a path of realisation Sentinel, realisation that not only are you not in my league, but that you are truly and utterly INFERIOR!”