Post by Glen Nodoveit on Sept 7, 2009 15:03:50 GMT -6
"You think this is going to be fun for me!?"
The camera slowly fixes itself on a grimacing and ring ready Nodoveit, his eyes are blood shot road maps and his lower lip is quivering. The lap dog John Palmer squats down at Nodoveit's side, his usual show boating and humor is gagged as he stares up at his distressed looking boss with a concerned air. There is a grievous hush over the two men. Nodoveit's voice is hoarse as ever, as if he had been screaming his lungs out before hand, it breaks throughout while he speaks.
"It has come to my attention, and through my internet-wise canary, Mr.Palmer, that a lot of fan forum dwelling hermits have been doubting my survival this coming Battlegrounds..."
John's eyes drop to ground level and his shoulders sink, he slowly takes off his glasses and begins to polish them with the sleeve of his shirt. He is hesitant to speak, even more so to make any further eye contact with his master.
"Not that the hive mind like opinion of misanthropic imbeciles has ever effected my state of mind before, but it has proven to be somewhat disheartening to know that that the same McDonalds eating, coke guzzling mouse pad warriors that kissed my ass before...are now going back on their word, even going against me in favour of this enigma, this symptomatic Will Washington. Never before have I really cared about their words, but I won't lie, this struck a chord with me, I can't exactly explain why, but it did."
He places a shaking hand against his cheek, covering half his face, he peers through the gaps of his fingers.
"I'm not going to lie anymore. If this is the last time I ever get to spill my guts, then so be it. I deserve to speak about how I really feel for once. I've said it before, forget the greased up professional wrestler that stands in front of the camera flexing his muscles and talking thrash week after week and all in the name of television ratings and phsycing out competition. This is all going to come from the heart."
Glen looks down at his squatting minion and motions for something. John subordinately nods and dutifully removes a pair of rosary beads from his pocket and places them on Glen's lap with a sigh.
"I'm not a religious man, but I will say a short prayer for you. I've heard the choir of hopeless screams and the barbed shrieks. The blood painted faces, ravenous eyes abaft crimson spiderwebs. I've had razor wire plucked from my very flesh and shown to me by doctors hell bent on ending my self demolition. I've made connections with people, only to betray them in the name of gold. This is no life for a protagonist. You know that, this is why you choose to throw yourself head first into the shark pool of loathing. I've seen it all and lived to tell the tale William, I loved it..."
"..Loved it so much that it haunts me. It haunts me to know that one can not hold valiance in one hand and gold in the other. They can not co-exist. Our match this PPV, though we have never before met, will be a kabuki theatre of suffering and self exploration. You have reminded me of something I would have rather forgotten, maybe even lied to myself about."
He motions for John to leave. John frowns, stands up and joylessly shuffles off camera while adjusting his glasses back on his nose. Then alone, webbing the rosary beads around his fingers, Glen calmly begins to speak once more.
" You have reminded me that to obtain glory and power, one must terminate all of whom stand in your way....and it hurts me William, because I know that if I don't terminate you this Sunday, I may very well be on my way back to the hell I lived in with World Hardcore Wrestling. You must understand, that I will have to end you this Sunday, there is no easy way out, because every day, you will be a living testament to my own failure."
Glen throws down the rosary beads in a surge of resentment, each tiny bead scattering around the concrete floor in different directions. A disturbing twitch is his eye, he swallows hard and speaks once more.
"We have decided that you have to go. We will release you from your earthly duties. We will dismantle you in an orgy of annihilation. You will no longer have to serve your master of hatred, he will hold no power over you anymore, you poor fool. You have a disease Will and I will be your anesthetic, at my own cost."
"Hatred. Patriotism and the like, can all be great weapons for war my friend. You and I, we aren't all that different. You were a soldier once, a killing machine serving a government you now despise for all the lies you had been told. I too was a soldier Will, though rather than sporting an assault rifle, I had my fists."
" You may have been on a real battle field William, you may have seen terrible things, but come this PPV, you will fight the most vicious war you have ever been involved in. You will see things both heinous and upsetting. There will be no dying children, no bloodied and raped women and you will not be tending to a fallen friend...you won't have the comfort of knowing that you aren't the only one suffering when we step into that ring. There will be no reinforcements"
He smiles, the sort of smile one might expect from a jeering school bully and almost on que, John returns, an American flag over his shoulder. John rolls down the flag and displays its stars and stripes to the camera. Glen speaks off camera.
"Take a good look at old glory William and know, that after Battlegrounds, this flag will not be draped over your coffin. You will not die a war hero Washington, you will die a victim. You will be terminated. You will know true injustice."
"Expect the worst."
The camera slowly fixes itself on a grimacing and ring ready Nodoveit, his eyes are blood shot road maps and his lower lip is quivering. The lap dog John Palmer squats down at Nodoveit's side, his usual show boating and humor is gagged as he stares up at his distressed looking boss with a concerned air. There is a grievous hush over the two men. Nodoveit's voice is hoarse as ever, as if he had been screaming his lungs out before hand, it breaks throughout while he speaks.
"It has come to my attention, and through my internet-wise canary, Mr.Palmer, that a lot of fan forum dwelling hermits have been doubting my survival this coming Battlegrounds..."
John's eyes drop to ground level and his shoulders sink, he slowly takes off his glasses and begins to polish them with the sleeve of his shirt. He is hesitant to speak, even more so to make any further eye contact with his master.
"Not that the hive mind like opinion of misanthropic imbeciles has ever effected my state of mind before, but it has proven to be somewhat disheartening to know that that the same McDonalds eating, coke guzzling mouse pad warriors that kissed my ass before...are now going back on their word, even going against me in favour of this enigma, this symptomatic Will Washington. Never before have I really cared about their words, but I won't lie, this struck a chord with me, I can't exactly explain why, but it did."
He places a shaking hand against his cheek, covering half his face, he peers through the gaps of his fingers.
"I'm not going to lie anymore. If this is the last time I ever get to spill my guts, then so be it. I deserve to speak about how I really feel for once. I've said it before, forget the greased up professional wrestler that stands in front of the camera flexing his muscles and talking thrash week after week and all in the name of television ratings and phsycing out competition. This is all going to come from the heart."
Glen looks down at his squatting minion and motions for something. John subordinately nods and dutifully removes a pair of rosary beads from his pocket and places them on Glen's lap with a sigh.
"I'm not a religious man, but I will say a short prayer for you. I've heard the choir of hopeless screams and the barbed shrieks. The blood painted faces, ravenous eyes abaft crimson spiderwebs. I've had razor wire plucked from my very flesh and shown to me by doctors hell bent on ending my self demolition. I've made connections with people, only to betray them in the name of gold. This is no life for a protagonist. You know that, this is why you choose to throw yourself head first into the shark pool of loathing. I've seen it all and lived to tell the tale William, I loved it..."
"..Loved it so much that it haunts me. It haunts me to know that one can not hold valiance in one hand and gold in the other. They can not co-exist. Our match this PPV, though we have never before met, will be a kabuki theatre of suffering and self exploration. You have reminded me of something I would have rather forgotten, maybe even lied to myself about."
He motions for John to leave. John frowns, stands up and joylessly shuffles off camera while adjusting his glasses back on his nose. Then alone, webbing the rosary beads around his fingers, Glen calmly begins to speak once more.
" You have reminded me that to obtain glory and power, one must terminate all of whom stand in your way....and it hurts me William, because I know that if I don't terminate you this Sunday, I may very well be on my way back to the hell I lived in with World Hardcore Wrestling. You must understand, that I will have to end you this Sunday, there is no easy way out, because every day, you will be a living testament to my own failure."
Glen throws down the rosary beads in a surge of resentment, each tiny bead scattering around the concrete floor in different directions. A disturbing twitch is his eye, he swallows hard and speaks once more.
"We have decided that you have to go. We will release you from your earthly duties. We will dismantle you in an orgy of annihilation. You will no longer have to serve your master of hatred, he will hold no power over you anymore, you poor fool. You have a disease Will and I will be your anesthetic, at my own cost."
"Hatred. Patriotism and the like, can all be great weapons for war my friend. You and I, we aren't all that different. You were a soldier once, a killing machine serving a government you now despise for all the lies you had been told. I too was a soldier Will, though rather than sporting an assault rifle, I had my fists."
" You may have been on a real battle field William, you may have seen terrible things, but come this PPV, you will fight the most vicious war you have ever been involved in. You will see things both heinous and upsetting. There will be no dying children, no bloodied and raped women and you will not be tending to a fallen friend...you won't have the comfort of knowing that you aren't the only one suffering when we step into that ring. There will be no reinforcements"
He smiles, the sort of smile one might expect from a jeering school bully and almost on que, John returns, an American flag over his shoulder. John rolls down the flag and displays its stars and stripes to the camera. Glen speaks off camera.
"Take a good look at old glory William and know, that after Battlegrounds, this flag will not be draped over your coffin. You will not die a war hero Washington, you will die a victim. You will be terminated. You will know true injustice."
"Expect the worst."