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Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2022 12:23:40 GMT -5
Route 3 Southern, WV June 6st, 2022
It's 5am and Mad Dog is driving down the backroads of Southern WV to his job at Alpha Coal. Hostess Powdered donuts, black coffee, and a Black & Mild are breakfast today and almost every day of the week. Mad Dog rubs his eyes, trying to wake up. To help himself wake up, Mad Dog turns the volume up on the radio, and the sweet sounds of Dolly Parton come through the speakers.
Workin' 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin' Barely gettin' by, it's all takin' and no givin' They just use your mind and they never give you credit It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it
Coal mining is dark, dirty, and dangerous work. It's not for everyone, it's for the few brave souls who dare to descend into the bowels of the Earth to extract "black gold.". Even as they face the risk of mines collapsing, catching fire, or long-term health threats such as coal workers' pneumoconiosis, commonly known as black lung. Mad Dog is a third-generation Coal Miner. He had seen his grandfather and father break their backs in the mine. Mad Dog had watched as his grandfather suffered and eventually died from black lung. Mad Dog had seen his father on the picket lines during strikes, he had seen the mines go bankrupt, and his father lose his pension. Mad Dog didn't want to be a coal miner but in this part of the state, it was the mines, Walmart, Dollar General, or Welfare. Mad Dog began coughing, it was a heavy and deep cough. He covers his mouth with his hand, and when he finishes coughing, he notices his hand as he moves it away from his mouth. His palm is covered with a fresh, wet, black powder, straight from his lungs. They let you dream just to watch 'em shatter You're just a step on the boss-man's ladder But you got dreams he'll never take away
Mad Dog stares at his hand with thoughts of his grandfather and father running through his head. Is this what he wanted out of life? He knew the answer was "no", so why not chase his dream of professional wrestling? Mad Dog had grown up around the sport and had been a "weekend warrior" for years now, but he had been afraid to go all in and throw away his steady income, benefits, and 401k... after all, he has mouths to feed. The sound of a blaring car horn snaps Mad Dog out of his daydream. He looks up and sees he has drifted into the other lane. Mad Dog whips his F-150 back into his lane, narrowly avoiding a collision. The passing vehicle continues to blow the horn and stops only to give Mad Dog the middle finger. Mad Dog pulls off to the side of the road, his leg burning from the coffee that spilled onto his thigh from swerving the truck. "Dag on it", Mad Dog mumbles as he reaches into his glove box to grab some McDonald's napkins to dry off with. Then he sees it, a sign. In the glove box, buried behind the napkins is a flier from a previous event, “Crusher Charly Wright Memorial Cup '', it reads at the top. The annual memorial event for his grandfather, where the proceeds go to helping his grandmother pay for her assisted living home. Mad Dog drops the napkins and picks up the flier. He looks at the old photo of his grandfather in his prime, he had always looked up to him like he was a superhero. As a child, Mad Dog thought that Crusher had hung the moon. " Come on Mad Dog, just do it," Mark says out loud to no one but himself. Mad Dog grabs his phone, and scrolls to a name, "Sunny Jim", and hits the green dial button. Yeager Airport Charleston, WV June 22nd, 2022
Mad Dog's knee bounces up and down from nerves. He has never flown before, and now that he is sitting at the gate for his first flight his nerves are really kicking in. The heel of his Cowboy boots bounces off the floor, giving away his nervous condition. Not only is he flying for the first time but his Wrangler Jeans are tucked into his boots, and his button-up shirt is tucked into his jeans, all of which are making him feel stuffy. Mad Dog normally keeps his close more casual and comfortable, but since this will be his first time in PWS Apex he is trying to look professional, and make a good first impression. He even bought a new denim jacket to match his Wranglers and splurged on a new Bass Pro Shop hat. Why can't we just drive, like last time?Mark, it's a seven-hour drive, and with gas at five dollars a gallon, it is not only faster but also cheaper to fly than it is to drive. Besides, you are in the big leagues now, the only reason we drove during the last loop was to hit those independent shots I already had booked for you. You are a PWS employee now, no more long drives like that, travel reimbursement is part of the deal.Shoot Jim, I'm nervous I've never flown before. I mean, I even went to Japan and didn't fly.How on Earth did you go to Japan and not fly?We drove. Well the old lady drove, I was pretty lit, it was my birthday after all. Shoot, don't you remember? You were there.Sunny pushes his wire-frame glasses up and pinches his nose. Unlike Mad Dog, Sunny is dressed for success, with his freshly pressed khakis and red polo, business casual for travel. Mark, that wasn't Japan, it was just a hibachi restaurant.Well shoot, guess that explains why they looked at me so funny when I demanded they give me a Ribera jacket.Sunny looks bewildered for a moment and then shakes his head. Sunny can tell Mark is nervous and since he was fresh out of Valiums, he quickly thought of an idea to occupy Mark’s mind and channel his nervous energy. How about we go ahead and talk about the match, get you a promo in, and let everyone know who you are and what you can do, that'll help take your mind off of it." Excuse me miss, can I get you to videotape the two of us?" Sunny asks a woman, as he leans over into her personal bubble, interrupting her Netflix streaming on her phone. "Eww, gross. You creep" she replies, as she grabs her carry-on and moves away. HAHAHA! Ok, Jimbo, I tell you what buddy, I'm gonna go get a drink while you find someone to hold that their phone for ya.Now Mark, don't take too long or have too many. Our flight is in forty-five minutes.You just worry about finding a cameraman, I’ll worry about my liver and the time. So go ahead, and do what you do best, press the flesh for some help while I go get some liquid charisma.Mad Dog heads for the small Airport bar, and Sunny just hopes he makes it back in time. Nearly a half-hour passes before Mad Dog returns, and while he is not drunk, he is certainly feeling good and full of liquid charisma. Sunny is pacing back and forth waiting on Mark, and when he sees him, he lets into him right away. Where have you been? I tried texting and calling you... no answer.Mad Dog shrugs, and gives the nonchalant answer of, “ Uh, my phones' on Airplane mode.”. Sunny sighs. Mark, you don't put it on airplane mode, until you are actually on the airplane, that is why it's called airplane mode. *sigh* Anyway, look, I found someone to record for us, come on.Mad Dog tips his hat back, and straightens out his shirt, getting himself presentable for television. " Here you go," Sunny says to some morbidly obese man in sweats, as Sunny hands him his phone. Sunny and Mad Dog move in front of a wall that is painted with a backdrop of the city of Charleston, West Virginia, the state capital, and where the airport is located. Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, and since it's twenty-twenty-two and I don't want to be canceled, they, them, and those. My name is Sunny Jim, and I am the man who has managed more successful warriors than General Patton. The man you see standing here beside me is the Appalachian Animal, the Beast from Big Ugly, the Mountain Mad Man, he is the Mad Dog, Mark Wright. We are now officially employees of PWS Apex.
My client has been looking forward to stepping into the ring and proving himself against the toughest opponent that PWS has to offer. I'd have preferred he start off slow, getting an easy first opponent, a real tomato can like you know an Ace Sky, or a Sonya Benson. Instead, PWS saw fit to throw my client into the deep end with a triple threat match for his debut match.
Then again, when I look at his opponents, maybe they are throwing him some easy win, tomato cans. Just look at this Michael Rathedon, just another vanilla midget. I tried to dig up some dirt on this guy, but the only thing more boring and generic than his stats and matches is his history. Then we have Alexander Lyons, a man from a broken home, big surprise there. There seem to be more broken homes than broken bones in the sport nowadays.
Alexander is of the typical mindset of "blame everyone for my problems" that seems to affect his generation. Blaming his Dad for knocking up his Mom and not seeing her again, even though Alexander admits his mom was a rat. Alexander, did you ever stop for just a minute and think that maybe your Dad wasn't a deadbeat Dad, but that your mom was just a slut looking to baby trap someone she thought would bring wealth, power, and status to her life? Maybe that is why your cousins didn't want anything to do with you because you are a trap baby. Only, your father was smart enough to steal the bait and not get caught in the trap. Then again after taking a look at your mother I'd gnaw my leg off to get out of that trap.
Or…
Maybe, just maybe, your dear old Dad was just too embarrassed by his loser son to stick around. I know you were a whiny fussy baby because you are still a whiny fussy adult. I tried to sit through some of your previous promotional materials to get a better understanding of you, but between your foul mouth and your crybaby attitude, I couldn't bring myself to sit through them all. I had to duct tape my eyes open just to finish hearing you cry about the beating you took from Mike Hawk.Uh Sunny, your what?Michael Hawk, not MY CO…Mad Dog begins waving his hand and cutting Sunny off by saying, " Sunny, Sunny, Sunny, we gotta keep this PG baby, no X-rated material. ". Sunny just shakes his head and throws his arms up. Mark, I'm not talking about my ample member, I'm talking about my…Mad Dog once again cuts Sunny off, this time saying, " Sunny, come on now.". WHAT MARK!?!Ample, really?Ok, ok, fine. I'm not talking about my average-sized appendage, I'm talking about another goof wrestler who couldn't lace the Mad Dog's boots, but the neutered house-cat couldn't even get past him. So, what would make Lyons think he could win this match? The answer is either pure stupidity or simple hubris. How ironic that the reason the mighty Lyon will be brought down is because of pride.Sunny gives a confident and cocky smile, but the moment is fleeting as a voice behind the camera is heard. Ummm, hey.Not now, I’m on a roll.You got a text, I don’t know if it stopped the camera or not.OH COME ON! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!Sunny storms over to the man and yanks the phone from his hands. “It’s still recording, you idiot” Sunny says as he points the phone at Mad Dog. The obese man just shrugs his shoulders and walks away as Sunny had already paid him. Mad Dog just shakes his head at the whole situation but quickly snaps back to promo mode as he knows the camera is on him. Mad Dog smiles and tips his hat, as his brew, and Sunny’s rant has him fired up and ready to drop some verbiage of his own. Lyons, old boy, Sunny done verbally buried you about six feet deep. I keep going and we gonna reach the core of everything and have the molten lava heat. Now that doesn't concern old Mad Dog none, I want the smoke like I'm a grade-A prime choice brisket, but I ain't trying to make a mortal enemy right out the gate. See, I got big plans and a big old ladder to climb, so I ain't got the time or patience to go into a big old series with ya Lyons. Na I got my eyes on the prize, and bigger fish to fry, so I'm just gonna beat ya, hit the pay window, move up the ladder, and hit repeat.
As for the other man in this match, old Mikey Rathedon. You're just a mystery wrapped inside an enigma aren't ya boy? Well, like that old Hobbit meme says, all right then, keep your secrets. Cause really Mikey, all I need to know about you is that you have a butt, just so I got a place to shove my boot.
It don't matter what kind of background you have, Mikey. It don't matter what kind of life you live, what your plans are, where you've been, or who you are. All that really matters to me is that you are standing in my path to victory. That means you got yourself two options, get outta my way or get run over. I got a Dub to catch and a pay window to hit. So it really doesn't matter to me what your mysterious origin story is Mikey, just like I don't care if Lyons choked on Mike Hawk.Mad Dog stops for a moment, realizing what he has just said, and begins to laugh a little. Mad Dog quickly shakes it off though, shaking his head to clear the humor from his brain and refocus. Boys, I don't give two craps about where you all have been, what your plans are for the future, or where you think you are going. Cause old Mad Dog, he knows where I've been and what I've been through to get here. I know my plans for the future, and it's gold around my waist and dead presidents in my band account. And boys I know exactly where you all are going, and that's GOING MAD!!!
AAAGGHH ROOF ROOF!!!Mad Dog begins barking into the camera as the scene fades out.
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Post by Josiah Cena on Jun 22, 2022 19:46:29 GMT -5
PWS:APEX Presents: Tuesday Night Riot! Wells Fargo Center; Philadelphia, PA Triple Threat Match Michael Rathedon vs. “Mad Dog” Mark Wright vs. Alexander Lyons 1 rp each, 300 word minimum, 5000 word maximum RP Deadline is 11:59pm est Sunday, June 26
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Post by Michael Rathedon on Jun 23, 2022 14:08:35 GMT -5
Seven Years.
for seven years I haven't known who I was.
Why did I run? Was it because I was afraid? If so, of what? Myself? My brother? Attachment? No, none of those things.
I wasn't afraid. I wanted to escape and leave that world behind not because of fear but because of love. Love for my children, Madyson and Mackenzie. They are what get me out of bed in the morning and keep me from ending it myself. Something I will never allow someone else to do for me. If I'm going to die, it's going to be on MY terms. Not before I know my babies are safe and in no danger. Once I know they are in good hands... Then I'm ready to go. I'm ready to leave this world.
At one point I believed myself to be 'The Pinnacle of Mankind'. I thought everyone revolved around me and I was the shining star of absolutely everything. I learned that just wasn't true. There are more important things than my ego in this universe. It's been so long at this point I can't even truly remember where I'm from. Somewhere out there in the dark abyss lies my home, I think? Not that it matters because now I live in Tokyo, Japan which is such a beautiful and intimidating city at the same time. Most importantly my kids have very much adjusted to life here and grown fond of it. For me it's been life threatening every single day. My Brother may be dead and rotting in the ground where he deserves but from time to time people who used to work for him will find me and make attempts at my life, clearly failing. I'm not afraid of them or even dying, I just want my kids to be ok...
After almost a decade I decided it was about time to return to the states and get back into one of the only things I enjoyed. That was hurting people professionally. There was always this one woman who I... That's in the past now but I was quite fond of and the only person I could truly trust. I've always wondered if she thought of me or hell, even remembered me in general. I'd like to think she did. We went through a lot together and it's hard to just forget those kinds of things. I hope she's well and my brother didn't do anything to her…
“Now, here I am about to step into a ring again after firmly believing I’d never even contemplate it again. No matter how much time passes, that itch inevitably rears its head no matter what. To start from the bottom once again is unfortunate but at the same time, incredibly humbling. I am… different from who I was all those years ago but the one thing that has not been lost to me is my expertise at the art of shit talking. I know I’m good. I’m one of the best on the stick and I have absolutely no problem saying so cause I’ll back it up, just watch.
I left this country because I needed to leave. I left this country because it is mostly filled with vermin who share a collective one brain cell. My two opponents being the perfect example of this. Exactly one brain cell, no more and probably no less. The epitome of America itself and some dickhead with mommy AND daddy issues, Don’t get me wrong I’m not gonna be calling the kettle black over here and deny my own issues but mine at least give me- what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh, character!
I mean, c’mon is anyone really pulling for these guys? I’m infinitely more handsome and interesting than them but at the same time I do have to realize that this is the home of the free and land of the brave. Meaning, everyone who is going to be standing behind that barricade is going to have drool and beer all over their clothing. I fully expect someone like ‘Mad Dog’ to receive all of the chants and cheers just because of what he stands for and nothing else. Maybe, just maybe the ‘Feral Prince’ will get some love from the sheep because look at him! He’s… a lion that got kicked out of his pride or something. I don’t understand that furry stuff either so don’t ask me.
Let’s get really down to it though and really think about just who I’m going up against shall we?
Mad Dog! That’s the nickname he gave himself because he’s a freak who acts animalistic right? He likes to dig deep inside of himself and channel his inner animal right? No, he just drinks alcohol ya know like… a dog. How a fucking Moonshiner from fucking West fucking Virginia gets into this biz is quite hilarious to me actually. I mean, you can probably count how many teeth he still has on both of your hands because no one introduced him to the concept of brushing your teeth when he was a child. I’m one hundred percent certain that he wakes up and swishes around some of that moonshine as mouth wash so he can kill the germs and try and get rid of the smell. Maybe uses a fork or a butter knife as floss to get the crusty mud still stuck in between his handful of teeth and in his gums.
You have got to give it to Mark though! Like I said earlier he embodies America so perfectly without even trying. It is just a fact that every other country in the world when they think of the good ‘ol USA they think of someone who looks and lives their regular life just like Mark. Fucker probably owns a double barrel shotgun that he keeps on the side of his bed while he sleeps with his sister cousin.
Imagine how Mark was raised, just think about it. Nothing but alcohol and mud wrestling around, coal mining, and very likely racism and incest. Look at him and tell me he isn't into both! The fact that this back of the woods wrong turn motherfucker also likely has zero real training just tells me everything I need to know and that’s basically that in this triple threat match… The Mad Dog isn’t exactly going to be much of a… well, threat. Maybe an occasional annoyance much like a fly. So, I’m going to give you a tip Mr. Dog, smash your beers together and enjoy your time with the crowd because if you try and genuinely insert yourself in this match to actually win then you’re just going to be going back to your coal mine a loser and you’ll be verbally thrashed again by your father this time. Take your guns, beer, and coal and leave, just like the country you represent. Loser.
Mr. Feral Prince! After what I just said to Mark I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes and wondering to yourself “What shit is he going to say about me?” Or maybe you’ll just try and be a fake tough guy and ‘not care’ about what I’m going to say. You know damn well you wanna know, pussy.
You want to know because it’s the only time someone is going to acknowledge you. The entirety of your family won’t do it so I’ll be the one to step in and be your new daddy, ok? There obviously is a reason as to why no one with the last name Lyons wants you right? You must be an embarrassment and can’t do anything well can you? You’re obviously the ugly reject of the bloodline so you don’t have your looks going for you so you’d think you’d have your athleticism and ring prowess to fall back on. I’m not exactly impressed with anything you’ve ever done except be boring, you’re pretty exceptional at that.
The ink on my new contract has barely dried and yet here I am already finding someone so pathetic in my first match here. I want to thank the management though because I get to beat the shit out of both these assholes at the same time? I couldn’t have asked for a better debut.
Your whole goal in wrestling is to make your own name and show everyone that you don’t need your lineage to get ahead, am I right? Right. In this business it’s very common for 2nd or 3rd generation wrestlers to get ahead easier because of their names but you’re trying to break that mold! I can respect that, I really can. My problem is that’s all you have going for you. Even your nickname ‘feral prince’ is just a shot at how you’re all deranged and the outcast of your clan but weren’t you trying to break away from relying on your family, Alexander? Using them as fuel to propel yourself is definitely a different strategy that isn’t nearly as common but it does deserve a very tiny bit of respect. Even though you’re a worthless poser. “Hear me roar”? Yeah right, get fucked loser.
I almost entirely forgot! You have half the tag titles, holy shit. So you’re not entirely fucking useless I guess but at the same time, relying on other people to get ahead… tsk tsk tsk, you really are just a poser who thinks he’s the prince of pride rock. Newsflash Simba, even with a championship you’re still a pathetic child trying to outrun his family's shadow. No matter what you do. All that title does for you now is help me because in my debut I will quite enjoy pinning a champion.
“HEAR ME ROAR!” FUCK-ing loser.
I’ll see you both in the ring.” Michael winks at the camera and laughs hysterically.
“I still fucking got it.”
Camera cuts off.
Shibuya City, Tokyo, Japan. Yoyogi Park
Cherry blossom trees flow with the breeze painting one of the most beautiful scenes in the world. Petals fall to the lush grass below as people walk through the park to take in the breathtaking sights. Michael’s hand comes into shot as he picks up one of the Petals and brings it close to his face to smell it. Zooming out it is revealed he is with another gorgeous Japanese woman.
“Utsukushī” Michael says with a grin on his face as he turns his gaze to her.
“Desu! I love it when you try to speak Japanese, Michael. You are really getting better I promise!” She very gently and playfully hits his hand that is holding the petal.
“I’m trying… I don’t really need to communicate too often other than when I talk to you, Saori.”
“And I appreciate it! I’ve known English for years though, silly.”
“I know it’s just that, you’ve done so much for my kids and I feel the need to at the very least learn your native language. Right?”
Saori gets closer to him and places both of her hands on his forearm very tenderly.
“I’ve told you that it has never been an issue. You needed help running and I had no problem assisting you into hiding instead. Your brother was a very evil man. I couldn’t stand back and just let him kill you and your kids. That was one of the best decisions I’ve made.” She gives him a very sweet smile while looking directly into his gaze.
“Now that he’s gone it almost doesn’t feel real. I’m free to do whatever I want, go wherever I want. We can go wherever we want, Saori! You can come with us back to America or somewhere better like… I don’t know, Scotland?” He scoffs and grabs her left hand gently and places the cherry blossom petal in her hand.
“You know I can’t, Michael…” Her face drops as she never breaks eye contact. She lets her hands fall to her side.
The Petal drops to the grass simultaneously…
“I’m dead… It’s ok to move on. Take your kids back to America. Do something you love, but you have to promise me you’ll move on and…” She takes out a bottle of prescription pills and places them inside Michael’s left hand the same way he had just placed the petal in hers.
“Stop killing yourself over me and heal.”
“I love you, Saori…” Michael says with a tremble in his voice holding back tears.
“I know. I loved you too. You need to take these to get better so you can help those kids live a better life.”
Michael looks down at the bottle that reads “Rathedon” the name of the medication.
“I loved you so so much. I wanted to take your last name at some point… Some things just aren’t meant to be though.”
His head drops as he can’t control his emotions anymore. He looks up one more time to see her smiling brightly. Glancing at the bottle briefly and back up to her as if asking for confirmation.
“It’s ok. I’ll always be with you. Watashi no ai.”
He twists the cap off and quickly takes one of the pills with a single gulp. He puts the cap back on and slides the bottle back into his pocket. Within seconds he watches the beautiful smile and the woman he once loved vanish before his eyes. He sniffles once and lifts his head back up and starts walking back down the trail that leads to his house in Hatagaya which is about a 30 minute walk.
“Fuck you... brother…”
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Post by Alexander Lyons on Jun 25, 2022 21:54:12 GMT -5
Alexander Lyons came into PWS a little over a year ago, rejected and exiled from his family, unwanted and thrown out. He had to find his own family and he did that with his brothers in ANTITHESIS, the absolute scourge of PWS. The four of them have brought nothing but destruction wherever they go, and it seems they have no plans of stopping anytime soon. They weren’t the only family he rekindled with, his long lost father has welcomed him into the family school, giving him all the rights and the cashflow that come with having the Lyons name. His cousins, after their previous company utterly failed, have commended him for doing the family name proud, as they search the waters for their next hunting grounds.
But PWS doesn’t belong to Vincent, or Victoria, this is where The Feral Prince hunts, PWS is the Pridelands of Alexander, and the next year is going to be even better. ANTITHESIS will get more dangerous, Alexander will become more lethal and everyone else will just have to deal with it, or else be dealt with.
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Fade in. We see the image of Alexander Lyons, proudly holding one tag championship on each shoulder. The shadows behind him make is unclear of his exact location, he’s leaned against the rubble of an old building, and the sound of a calm breeze can be heard. Alex himself seems more calm and relaxed than usual, but the unsettling, crazed look in his eyes still remains there as much as the smirk on his face does.
“So, I get to beat up the new guys.” he says, confidence in his voice never wavering, “It would be my honor to be the welcoming committee. Just don’t come crying to me when your new talents PWS careers are ended before they even begin. Remember, they don’t just face me they face ANTITHESIS and we will be more than happy to show these two little punks just who runs things around here. I suppose it’s best we teach them now, so they can fall in line before things get really bad for them. Perhaps they’ll learn rather quick not to mess with one of us and stay out of our way. It would be the wisest decision anyone in this company had ever made. Unlike Malachi, who seems to have taken it upon himself to start an army to take us out, I guess he heard what I had to say. I wish I was more impressed however.”
He shakes his head, a look of disappointment on his face, as if he expected better.
“Am I supposed to be impressed you defeated Richard Rider?” Alexander laughs, “ The guy is a bigger joke than the rest of the tag team division. I’m not impressed you beat a guy who probably couldn’t even defeat one of The Landersons. As for The Commonwealth? We’ve already handled them in the past, why do you think Dickie hid his face for so long? If THEY are your first soldiers, this is going to be the shortest war in history. In any case Mal. I wish you good fortune in the wars to come.”
He glares at the camera with a grin, not lacking of confidence.
“How about you watch what I do to the newest arrivals, a guy named Michael Rathedon and another named Mark Wright. Now, I sent out my feelers and they could find little to nothing on this Rathedon fellow. I know he’s been living in Japan, and has a couple of shitbag little kids but nothing else really came up. Which makes me wonder what he has to hide.” Alexander says, “What is he so afraid of people finding out? A man who keeps himself so guarded can only be a coward. Somebody running from their problems. Somebody who just can’t handle it when things get to hot. How can I respect a man who can’t even tell me about himself? If he was anybody of any importance, or did anything that mattered he would likely crow about it from the rooftops. My guess is he has nothing to crow about, and is simply nobody. He needs the air of mystery to seem intimidating, and cool, but I’m smarter than that. Michael Rathedon is exactly what is known about him, some guy raising his kids in Japan. Michael, I suggest you quit while your ahead. This isn’t the place for you, before it’s too late just go home and be a family man.”
He takes a heavy breath, and takes a proud glance at each of the belts on his shoulder.
“Then there’s this Mad Dog fellow, a good ol’ boy from the sound of it.” Alexander continues, “Probably been in a bar fight or two in his life, which already makes him more of a man than Rathedon. What he lacks is mind. He’s simple. Wake Up, Drink. Fight. Repeat., that’s all he knows. He would serve as a good solider, but never the commander, and may I add he would be one of the low ranking soldiers, among the most expendable on the battlefield. So while a tough fighter he likely may be, he is no apex hunter. He is no lion. He’s just as he says he is, a mad dog. Of course, we all know there’s only one thing to do with a mad dog and it would be my honor to be the one to put the mad dog down.”
Alexanders eyebrows furrow, as he finishes off with a gin rubbing his palms together and looking pridefully again at his championships.
“You see boys, I am Alexander Lyons. I don’t need to hide my past from the world because I have nothing to hide and I am not afraid or ashamed of anything I’ve ever done.” he says to the camera, “I enjoy a good drink from time to time, but it doesn’t clout my mind, it doesn’t define me. My actions define me, my victories define me. I am one half of the tag team champions for the second time in my short year here in PWS. ANTITHESIS is seen as the top threat in the company, this isn’t going to go well for either of you. All that’s going to happen is the two of you will find out exactly who runs the show around here, and you will learn why it’s best for you to just stay out of the way of ANTITHESIS. This will be your only warning. Learn your place, understand your teachings at this coming Riot, and most importantly….”
The camera cuts suddenly to a closeup shot.
“HEAR ME ROAR” he bellows, a few heavy breaths as the scene slowly fades to black.
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