Post by The Brothers Holland on Jan 25, 2008 19:48:26 GMT -6
*The camera shows a large room. One wall is lined with bookcases, the other lined with bookcases with a large stone fireplace in the middle. There's a wrestling ring erected in one corner of the room though it now lies empty. Beside it are a couple of pieces of gym equipment, namely a punchbag and a treadmill. At the far end of the room is a desk. A large oak piece with a large leather chair behind it. The chair has it's back to the camera so any occupants within are looking out of the huge window that is the far wall.
The wall is made entirely of glass or some glass-like substance. Outside the window are the grounds of one of the many 'Diamond' Hotels. A large garden expanse with several different areas. A voice speaks as the camera slowly approaches the desk. The voice of Dave Holland.*
Dave: I know what you're expecting. Every time I go into singles action I go on a big rant about how people underestimate me in the ring. How they see me as a tag specialist with Milo but that simply isn't the case. That I'm more diverse than that. That I have taken singles titles... that I am a better singles competitor than damn near most of the roster of any federation in the world today. You were expecting me to go to my books. Look up some of the great tacticians of the latter days. Take some of their wisdom, their intellect and add it to my own. You were expecting me to do as I always have and show with clear and concise words that I am one of the smartest and most brilliant men in the world today, not just in wrestling. You were expecting me to lean at the fireplace and give my speech on my past. Remind everyone of my heritage, of my family's heritage. Our history of blood and the innate violence that drives us all. You were expecting me to look deep into the fire and speak of whatever conclusions my mind might have drawn in the process.
*As the camera reaches the desk at the far end the chair swivels round showing the occupant. There isn't one, it lies empty. The scene suddenly switches to fists flying at a punch bag quickly. After two short hits the screen goes black*
Dave: Not today.
*The camera opens up on a windswept grassland. The fields ripple like waves as the wind blows across them. The camera turns around to the ruins of an abbey stood near a cliffside. The bricks are all still sturdy where they haven't fallen already. Around the ruins lie boulders, maybe the remnants of some siege of centuries past. The windows are all smashed through ages ago, the glass likely eroded down to join the sand that makes up most of the surounding ground. The camera approaches what must have once been the doorway slowly as Dave continues to speak.*
Dave: I know what you were expecting. You were expecting me to be in Ireland. To have gone to my place of strength, my place of power. Expecting me to be refreshing myself on my various martial arts skills. Making sure I'm still one of the fastest men in wrestling today. You were expecting me to give my talk about control and focus. About clarity of purpose and purity of direction. About how anger gets you nowhere unless you're very in tune with it like Milo, or if you can focus and channel it like me. About how if someone can take their rage and channel it properly it can have them perform at far more than optimal levels. You were expecting me to be spritual about myself. Maybe even going into fate and religion with it. About how I have fought against everything that was thrown at me and taken it all on the chin and carried on regardless. About how my life is charmed, like I'm protected by some divine spirit. That fate and destiny will never let me fall. You were expecting me to say I'm destined for victory this Sunday.
*The camera reaches the entrance and looks to the stones within that Dave Holland would normally be stood on. They lie bare at this time though. Again the camera switches to the punch bag. A foot is swung at it and as it connects the scene again falls to black.*
Dave: But not, today.
*The camera opens up again on a third scene. This one is full of action. A dark room in some kind of cellar. There's a crowd of people surrounding a circle marked by nothing but the crowd themselves. Within the circle two men are fighting bareknuckle. A cone of light is casting them in an almost angelic glow. The camera circles the crowd from above, gradually closing in on the fight. Everything moves in slow motion as Dave continues again*
Dave: Or maybe you were expecting me to go to some underground fight club with Milo. Like back when we faced The Alliance of Violence and nearly killed each other. Expecting me to put my body and my life on the line just to show that I'm one of the toughest, fastest healing men in wrestling today. That even when the rules are exempt that it takes more than any one man can give to put me down. Expecting me to talk about power and strength. About how it's not always physical strength that gets you through a match but the strength of will. About how my will is one of the strongest in the company, and in the world today. That when I set my mind to something, it happens. No questions, no queries, no ifs, no buts.. it happens. Expecting me to blow off any and all losses I had in the past as nothing more than a loss of will, or maybe not putting my mind to the task because I'd actually like to see my given opponent win this one. That such an event would be better for us both in the long run. You were expecting me to say though, that this is not one of those times. That I will beat you because you deserve to be beaten.
*The camera watches as one competitor is beaten to the floor. This is not Dave Holland. The cameraturns to the winner having his hand raised in victory... this is also not Dave Holland. The camera is cut in again to see the punchbag hit with an elbow and a spinning back elbow before cutting to black again*
Dave: And yet, not today.
*The camera opens up on Chad Lights sat in a chair. It looks as if he's sat on a set ready for an interview. The chair opposite him lies empty but he scribbles on his clipboard any questions he might want to ask. The rest of the room is dark but once again the two chairs are lit from above with a gentle light. The camera circles around the front of him as Dave continues talking once again.*
Dave: You were expecting me to go to Chad Lights. To set up an interview and talk to him about how this is my first time in singles competition since Christian Kane made a mockery of me and of wrestling as a whole a few short weeks ago. You were expecting the usual routine of obvious question, long drawn out answer ending with some kind of witty retort coated in a threat at my opponent. You were expecting maybe some catch up information on Melanie and her progress with our baby. Maybe even some questions regarding my thoughts on Milo and Spike moving in together. You were expectig me to play the good host and maybe do this show not just for my benefit, but for the benefit of 'Super Cool' Chad Lights. You were expecting me to be the benevolent man that I always have been and show respect to my opponent even when they've done some despicable acts right in front of our very eyes. You were expecting me to say that I'm doing this all for the fans and that without them I'd be nothing.
*A man walks into the scene and taps Chad on the shoulder. It must be some kind of producer or director or something because it's not Dave Holland. Chad looks a little down as the scene flicks away to show the punchbag being hit with two feet at once in a dropkick. Once again, it goes to black*
Dave: You got the picture yet?
*The camera turns now to an old dusty gym. The roof is partially missing which is allowing a large amount of light in and flaring the camera lens. There's a ring in the middle of the room and some old rusted equipment dotted about the room but there is the sound of movement at the far side of the room. We can't see what though as the light is blinding the camera slightly to it. Dave continues talking.*
Dave: And do you know why I'm not going to say any of those things today? Because the man who faces me on Sunday knows all of it. He's no stranger to me or mine. He's been around almost as long as I have. We've done the rounds, we've walked the boards, we've gone toe to toe more than a couple of times. Everything I could say, he already knows. He knows that I'm all of those things and he knows I'm far more than I ever would say. That I'm smart enough to know not to tell my enemy everything at once. To let him figure a few things out for himself when it's too late to realise. I don't need to demonstrate for him anymore, I don't need to explain myself. The fact is that he has sided with a group of men that aren't in the spotlight because he wants some of that spotlight action. And I have sided with the men that currently have the spotlight, or at least approve of the men in the spotlight, because we are all of the same belief.
*The camera has reached the far side of the ring and the light is now behind the camera. The movement and action is a man assaulting a punch bag. His white vest is grey down the middle of the back and the front with sweat. His fists are taped up as are his ankles as he stands barefoot and kicks the bag with no foot protection. He doesn't stop moving.*
Dave: If you want the spotlight, you take it. If you want the title, you challenge the number one contender, get that title and then challenge for the belt itself. Nothing in life comes as standard. There are no free breaks. Chances are that there's more than a few men out there who want exactly what you want, and what's more there's plenty more who want what you already have. If you can defend what's yours while advancing on what you want.. then you deserve everything you can get. But if you can't... then you deserve everything that's coming to you. Everything, that's coming at you. And unfortunately for you, Ace.. that everything is me. The man that's defeated you more than a few times with little to no retort from yourself.
*After a heavy spin kick to the bag the man pauses for a moment. He lowers his leg and turns to face the camera, revealing that it's Dave Holland. The cameras finally tracked him down.*
Dave: The last time I can remember personally facing you one on one was rememberance day a couple years ago. My first XHF title match... not two weeks after entering the company. You were Phoenix Champion walking into that match... but as I remember, and my trophy cabinet commemorates, you walked out with nothing. But since then, I confess, you could well have changed. improved.. made more of yourself than you did back then. But the last time you stepped in the ring with a Holland was but a few months back. You faced Milo... and once again you failed. I understand that the circumstances were different, the match type was different and let's be real honest here, I'm not Milo. But everything you faced in him, you face the opposite in me. Every bit as dangerous but in very different ways. All your strengths in that match, your speed, your skill, your techniques.. every one of them.. gone. You have no strength I can't counter, No ability I can't avoid.
*Dave begins unstrapping his hands*
Dave: But if you want to really prove that you and yours have what it takes to be where I am now, you go ahead. You show up on Sunday and you take your chance. prove me wrong and then we'll talk. But until then, You deserve, nothing. Not respect, not attention, not even the quality of opponents you all seem to be demanding on a weekly basis. And if you think coming out with cronies or that sledgehammer of yours.. you can forget it. Do that and I will personally refuse to wrestle any of you again except on my terms. I do this work pro bono, I have no contract that holds me like some of the others. Ball's in your court Ace. I know what I expect you to do... but what will you do?
*Dave strides off camera still removing the tape from his wrists. The camera fades to black as the scene ends.*
The wall is made entirely of glass or some glass-like substance. Outside the window are the grounds of one of the many 'Diamond' Hotels. A large garden expanse with several different areas. A voice speaks as the camera slowly approaches the desk. The voice of Dave Holland.*
Dave: I know what you're expecting. Every time I go into singles action I go on a big rant about how people underestimate me in the ring. How they see me as a tag specialist with Milo but that simply isn't the case. That I'm more diverse than that. That I have taken singles titles... that I am a better singles competitor than damn near most of the roster of any federation in the world today. You were expecting me to go to my books. Look up some of the great tacticians of the latter days. Take some of their wisdom, their intellect and add it to my own. You were expecting me to do as I always have and show with clear and concise words that I am one of the smartest and most brilliant men in the world today, not just in wrestling. You were expecting me to lean at the fireplace and give my speech on my past. Remind everyone of my heritage, of my family's heritage. Our history of blood and the innate violence that drives us all. You were expecting me to look deep into the fire and speak of whatever conclusions my mind might have drawn in the process.
*As the camera reaches the desk at the far end the chair swivels round showing the occupant. There isn't one, it lies empty. The scene suddenly switches to fists flying at a punch bag quickly. After two short hits the screen goes black*
Dave: Not today.
*The camera opens up on a windswept grassland. The fields ripple like waves as the wind blows across them. The camera turns around to the ruins of an abbey stood near a cliffside. The bricks are all still sturdy where they haven't fallen already. Around the ruins lie boulders, maybe the remnants of some siege of centuries past. The windows are all smashed through ages ago, the glass likely eroded down to join the sand that makes up most of the surounding ground. The camera approaches what must have once been the doorway slowly as Dave continues to speak.*
Dave: I know what you were expecting. You were expecting me to be in Ireland. To have gone to my place of strength, my place of power. Expecting me to be refreshing myself on my various martial arts skills. Making sure I'm still one of the fastest men in wrestling today. You were expecting me to give my talk about control and focus. About clarity of purpose and purity of direction. About how anger gets you nowhere unless you're very in tune with it like Milo, or if you can focus and channel it like me. About how if someone can take their rage and channel it properly it can have them perform at far more than optimal levels. You were expecting me to be spritual about myself. Maybe even going into fate and religion with it. About how I have fought against everything that was thrown at me and taken it all on the chin and carried on regardless. About how my life is charmed, like I'm protected by some divine spirit. That fate and destiny will never let me fall. You were expecting me to say I'm destined for victory this Sunday.
*The camera reaches the entrance and looks to the stones within that Dave Holland would normally be stood on. They lie bare at this time though. Again the camera switches to the punch bag. A foot is swung at it and as it connects the scene again falls to black.*
Dave: But not, today.
*The camera opens up again on a third scene. This one is full of action. A dark room in some kind of cellar. There's a crowd of people surrounding a circle marked by nothing but the crowd themselves. Within the circle two men are fighting bareknuckle. A cone of light is casting them in an almost angelic glow. The camera circles the crowd from above, gradually closing in on the fight. Everything moves in slow motion as Dave continues again*
Dave: Or maybe you were expecting me to go to some underground fight club with Milo. Like back when we faced The Alliance of Violence and nearly killed each other. Expecting me to put my body and my life on the line just to show that I'm one of the toughest, fastest healing men in wrestling today. That even when the rules are exempt that it takes more than any one man can give to put me down. Expecting me to talk about power and strength. About how it's not always physical strength that gets you through a match but the strength of will. About how my will is one of the strongest in the company, and in the world today. That when I set my mind to something, it happens. No questions, no queries, no ifs, no buts.. it happens. Expecting me to blow off any and all losses I had in the past as nothing more than a loss of will, or maybe not putting my mind to the task because I'd actually like to see my given opponent win this one. That such an event would be better for us both in the long run. You were expecting me to say though, that this is not one of those times. That I will beat you because you deserve to be beaten.
*The camera watches as one competitor is beaten to the floor. This is not Dave Holland. The cameraturns to the winner having his hand raised in victory... this is also not Dave Holland. The camera is cut in again to see the punchbag hit with an elbow and a spinning back elbow before cutting to black again*
Dave: And yet, not today.
*The camera opens up on Chad Lights sat in a chair. It looks as if he's sat on a set ready for an interview. The chair opposite him lies empty but he scribbles on his clipboard any questions he might want to ask. The rest of the room is dark but once again the two chairs are lit from above with a gentle light. The camera circles around the front of him as Dave continues talking once again.*
Dave: You were expecting me to go to Chad Lights. To set up an interview and talk to him about how this is my first time in singles competition since Christian Kane made a mockery of me and of wrestling as a whole a few short weeks ago. You were expecting the usual routine of obvious question, long drawn out answer ending with some kind of witty retort coated in a threat at my opponent. You were expecting maybe some catch up information on Melanie and her progress with our baby. Maybe even some questions regarding my thoughts on Milo and Spike moving in together. You were expectig me to play the good host and maybe do this show not just for my benefit, but for the benefit of 'Super Cool' Chad Lights. You were expecting me to be the benevolent man that I always have been and show respect to my opponent even when they've done some despicable acts right in front of our very eyes. You were expecting me to say that I'm doing this all for the fans and that without them I'd be nothing.
*A man walks into the scene and taps Chad on the shoulder. It must be some kind of producer or director or something because it's not Dave Holland. Chad looks a little down as the scene flicks away to show the punchbag being hit with two feet at once in a dropkick. Once again, it goes to black*
Dave: You got the picture yet?
*The camera turns now to an old dusty gym. The roof is partially missing which is allowing a large amount of light in and flaring the camera lens. There's a ring in the middle of the room and some old rusted equipment dotted about the room but there is the sound of movement at the far side of the room. We can't see what though as the light is blinding the camera slightly to it. Dave continues talking.*
Dave: And do you know why I'm not going to say any of those things today? Because the man who faces me on Sunday knows all of it. He's no stranger to me or mine. He's been around almost as long as I have. We've done the rounds, we've walked the boards, we've gone toe to toe more than a couple of times. Everything I could say, he already knows. He knows that I'm all of those things and he knows I'm far more than I ever would say. That I'm smart enough to know not to tell my enemy everything at once. To let him figure a few things out for himself when it's too late to realise. I don't need to demonstrate for him anymore, I don't need to explain myself. The fact is that he has sided with a group of men that aren't in the spotlight because he wants some of that spotlight action. And I have sided with the men that currently have the spotlight, or at least approve of the men in the spotlight, because we are all of the same belief.
*The camera has reached the far side of the ring and the light is now behind the camera. The movement and action is a man assaulting a punch bag. His white vest is grey down the middle of the back and the front with sweat. His fists are taped up as are his ankles as he stands barefoot and kicks the bag with no foot protection. He doesn't stop moving.*
Dave: If you want the spotlight, you take it. If you want the title, you challenge the number one contender, get that title and then challenge for the belt itself. Nothing in life comes as standard. There are no free breaks. Chances are that there's more than a few men out there who want exactly what you want, and what's more there's plenty more who want what you already have. If you can defend what's yours while advancing on what you want.. then you deserve everything you can get. But if you can't... then you deserve everything that's coming to you. Everything, that's coming at you. And unfortunately for you, Ace.. that everything is me. The man that's defeated you more than a few times with little to no retort from yourself.
*After a heavy spin kick to the bag the man pauses for a moment. He lowers his leg and turns to face the camera, revealing that it's Dave Holland. The cameras finally tracked him down.*
Dave: The last time I can remember personally facing you one on one was rememberance day a couple years ago. My first XHF title match... not two weeks after entering the company. You were Phoenix Champion walking into that match... but as I remember, and my trophy cabinet commemorates, you walked out with nothing. But since then, I confess, you could well have changed. improved.. made more of yourself than you did back then. But the last time you stepped in the ring with a Holland was but a few months back. You faced Milo... and once again you failed. I understand that the circumstances were different, the match type was different and let's be real honest here, I'm not Milo. But everything you faced in him, you face the opposite in me. Every bit as dangerous but in very different ways. All your strengths in that match, your speed, your skill, your techniques.. every one of them.. gone. You have no strength I can't counter, No ability I can't avoid.
*Dave begins unstrapping his hands*
Dave: But if you want to really prove that you and yours have what it takes to be where I am now, you go ahead. You show up on Sunday and you take your chance. prove me wrong and then we'll talk. But until then, You deserve, nothing. Not respect, not attention, not even the quality of opponents you all seem to be demanding on a weekly basis. And if you think coming out with cronies or that sledgehammer of yours.. you can forget it. Do that and I will personally refuse to wrestle any of you again except on my terms. I do this work pro bono, I have no contract that holds me like some of the others. Ball's in your court Ace. I know what I expect you to do... but what will you do?
*Dave strides off camera still removing the tape from his wrists. The camera fades to black as the scene ends.*
