Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jan 22, 2010 21:42:07 GMT -6
Tempestad sits in the darkness of his hotel room, staring at his rosary laying over a copy of the Bible. The book is turned to the passage Psalm 23, and he looks it over, mulling over the events of his last match in combination with the words he reads.
::Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me...You are with me, Father. I feel Your warmth in my heart, and I know that You are watching me. You watch me in the ring, and you protect me from true harm. It is by Your guidance that I find myself here, now. With Your grace, I shall be able to avenge myself upon that blasphemer du Lac. His words and deeds deserve nothing more than retribution. One lesson in the Bible is the concept of 'an eye for an eye'...but did not Your son say to turn the other cheek, so that it might be struck as well? No, this is more than that. This is a matter of example. He has mocked You, Father. I cannot allow such blasphemy to stand.::
He begins speaking, face covered as always by his mask, without looking up.
“And then there were three. I harbor no ill will towards one man in this match, but a large amount towards the other. It is wrong of me to harbor hate, I know. But this man, this 'Dark Horse', he has done nothing to elicit a response besides derision. This claim to be true darkness, his actions have left me wondering whether there is a screening for mental health issues before men get hired at this company. Regardless, as I told the still-ridiculous Mr. du Lac and I will tell you, your theatrics do not scare me. The only response you will get from me is mockery, and well-deserved at that. Do you understand? I Will. Not. Fear you. You say you are the messenger of death? Then I am the hand of God, and I will smite you down for your blasphemy and insolence.”
He looks up finally.
“I do not fear the dark, for I am the light. I do not fear hate, for I am love. I do not fear, for I am hope. Everything you profess to be, I am the antithesis of. I will show you how good can and must triumph over evil. I will prove to you, Dark Horse, and to everyone, that I deserve to be here in nCw. This match, and every match, is for those who watch us. We perform for them, not for the sake of our own egos. I do not need this win to salve any bruises. It will just show how athleticism and dedication win out over flashiness and mystique.”
Tempestad relaxes visibly, shoulders loosening up.
“And now to the other man, Fergus Callaghan. You fell straight into the easy and cowardly trap of insulting my national heritage. For your sake, I hope you can back up your comments in the ring. Otherwise, my Guardian Angel may strike down upon you with great vengeance and furious anger. You have renounced Xtreme and alcohol, and you call yourself 'born-again straightedge'. This means nothing to me. Purge your systems of the toxins that once flowed freely, rehabilitate yourself. It will not be enough.”
He stands up, resolutely looking into the camera.
“You disappoint me, Callaghan. I expected something more from someone who has been at this as long as you have. Instead, I get jokes about illegal immigration and mowing lawns. Ah, so is life. I suppose that I will have to just beat you to shut you up. You, who believe that turning your back on the people who pay your paycheck, who fill arenas to see you, are worthless. I have news for you: it is YOU who are worthless. The new and improved Fergus Callaghan is still no match for me.”
Tempestad clears his throat.
“I should be a broken shell of a man from my loss in my last match. The fearsome Sephiroth du Lac should have taken my soul and left me to rot. But he did not. I survived. And not only did I survive, I return to fight another day. I say to you now that God lives. My continued health and function is testament enough to His providence. And my God is not a forgiving God. He will strike down upon you, Sephiroth. And I shall be the instrument of His will. I have learned something about myself in the last few weeks. I have learned that there are things that, should you question them, will spark a blazing inferno of rage in me. The most prominent such trigger is undoubtedly questioning my faith. Just as important to me is my mask. Du Lac, your words have lit a fire in me which a thousand suns could not hope to match. I will not rest until I see you driven from this company and this Earth. With the Lord himself as my witness, I will DESTROY YOU.”
Tempestad sits down, sighing. The anger practically flows out of him with the breath.
“Callaghan...Horse...you enter the ring this week with a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A victory here will bring me one step closer to a rematch with that scum du Lac. Until we meet in the ring, to both of you, may the Lord watch over you.”
The promo fades out.
::Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me...You are with me, Father. I feel Your warmth in my heart, and I know that You are watching me. You watch me in the ring, and you protect me from true harm. It is by Your guidance that I find myself here, now. With Your grace, I shall be able to avenge myself upon that blasphemer du Lac. His words and deeds deserve nothing more than retribution. One lesson in the Bible is the concept of 'an eye for an eye'...but did not Your son say to turn the other cheek, so that it might be struck as well? No, this is more than that. This is a matter of example. He has mocked You, Father. I cannot allow such blasphemy to stand.::
He begins speaking, face covered as always by his mask, without looking up.
“And then there were three. I harbor no ill will towards one man in this match, but a large amount towards the other. It is wrong of me to harbor hate, I know. But this man, this 'Dark Horse', he has done nothing to elicit a response besides derision. This claim to be true darkness, his actions have left me wondering whether there is a screening for mental health issues before men get hired at this company. Regardless, as I told the still-ridiculous Mr. du Lac and I will tell you, your theatrics do not scare me. The only response you will get from me is mockery, and well-deserved at that. Do you understand? I Will. Not. Fear you. You say you are the messenger of death? Then I am the hand of God, and I will smite you down for your blasphemy and insolence.”
He looks up finally.
“I do not fear the dark, for I am the light. I do not fear hate, for I am love. I do not fear, for I am hope. Everything you profess to be, I am the antithesis of. I will show you how good can and must triumph over evil. I will prove to you, Dark Horse, and to everyone, that I deserve to be here in nCw. This match, and every match, is for those who watch us. We perform for them, not for the sake of our own egos. I do not need this win to salve any bruises. It will just show how athleticism and dedication win out over flashiness and mystique.”
Tempestad relaxes visibly, shoulders loosening up.
“And now to the other man, Fergus Callaghan. You fell straight into the easy and cowardly trap of insulting my national heritage. For your sake, I hope you can back up your comments in the ring. Otherwise, my Guardian Angel may strike down upon you with great vengeance and furious anger. You have renounced Xtreme and alcohol, and you call yourself 'born-again straightedge'. This means nothing to me. Purge your systems of the toxins that once flowed freely, rehabilitate yourself. It will not be enough.”
He stands up, resolutely looking into the camera.
“You disappoint me, Callaghan. I expected something more from someone who has been at this as long as you have. Instead, I get jokes about illegal immigration and mowing lawns. Ah, so is life. I suppose that I will have to just beat you to shut you up. You, who believe that turning your back on the people who pay your paycheck, who fill arenas to see you, are worthless. I have news for you: it is YOU who are worthless. The new and improved Fergus Callaghan is still no match for me.”
Tempestad clears his throat.
“I should be a broken shell of a man from my loss in my last match. The fearsome Sephiroth du Lac should have taken my soul and left me to rot. But he did not. I survived. And not only did I survive, I return to fight another day. I say to you now that God lives. My continued health and function is testament enough to His providence. And my God is not a forgiving God. He will strike down upon you, Sephiroth. And I shall be the instrument of His will. I have learned something about myself in the last few weeks. I have learned that there are things that, should you question them, will spark a blazing inferno of rage in me. The most prominent such trigger is undoubtedly questioning my faith. Just as important to me is my mask. Du Lac, your words have lit a fire in me which a thousand suns could not hope to match. I will not rest until I see you driven from this company and this Earth. With the Lord himself as my witness, I will DESTROY YOU.”
Tempestad sits down, sighing. The anger practically flows out of him with the breath.
“Callaghan...Horse...you enter the ring this week with a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A victory here will bring me one step closer to a rematch with that scum du Lac. Until we meet in the ring, to both of you, may the Lord watch over you.”
The promo fades out.