Post by dylanblack on Aug 5, 2023 14:32:04 GMT -6
-We start the shot in that most iconic hall, the Legion. The symbol of AXW, the centerpiece of their rise. Fans packed this place week after week eager to see their favorite stars have wars. It’s the day of Lay rest to the Wicked, supposedly the final show for this building and the company that claimed it. Technicians are diligently working on various things such as double checking the monitors, cleaning the aisles.
Business as usual really but there are some tears creeping down some faces. Many of them do not know what the future holds, but they are determined for tonight to be the event it deserves to be. For many of them this would certainly be the last time they ever had a part in a wrestling show. For others they had already found jobs in other promotions, some XHF related, some not. Yet the overwhelming feeling is very positive. The tears clearly more of fond memories rather than mourning.
Dreadvan then can be seen taking his time walking down a set of steps between the seats. He’s sweating profusely and of course every few he leans over and props himself up with a chair to catch his breath. Every time it would seem like he was about to keel over and finally have that fabled and oft talked about heart attack, he would swallow and then resume his march.
He makes it down to ringside, his breathing labored, clothes most certainly stained now by natural sweat oils. The ring crew actually have to pull their shirt over their noses because he’s built up a cloud of body odor that just seems to never leave their nostrils as soon as it barges it’s way in. Some with weaker constitutions even vomit and lament the fact they have extra work to do shortly after.
Dreadvan doesn’t really acknowledge any of it though. He seems rather focused and looking at the ring. He then sits down on two seats in the front row. He made sure to take his time in order to avoid breaking them outright. A mistake he’s committed far too many times to count during his life. Dreadvan wipes his brow as the camera operator finally made their way over. Dreadvan puts up an index finger, clearly gesturing to ask for a few more moments. When his breath finally gets back to a reasonable rate he speaks.-
“Here we are. We’re sitting just a few feet away from the ring where it all started and now will all end. You know I said a few days ago that I finally came to terms with the finality of it all, but it’s still a bit unreal. Particularly from this view. This is what all those dumb people who spend their money to watch wrestling see. As a little demon I never went to wrestling shows. I was way more interested in going to the buffet than to see two oiled up guys beat the hell out of each other.
No that taste of beating the ever loving shit out of a person developed a bit later. But when I did discover it I was hooked. When I saw that I could get paid for beating a hated piece of trash, say whatever the hell I wanted, and be rewarded for it? Sounded like a dream come true. After all, what kind of demon works for fed ex? Postal service sure, but let’s just say they don’t have shorts in my size.
Now I know you people at home listening expect me to say I didn’t have any favorite wrestlers. I mean how the hell could I humble myself like that right? I’m the damn demon! But I did have one. One I thought was the coolest son of a bitch this side of hell. And his name was Scorpion.”
-Dreadvan shakes his head almost as if trying to hide a smile. Perhaps just trying to cover his cheeks so the viewer couldn’t see the clearly forming blush.-
“Now again, I know what you’re all thinking. How could I possibly like Scorpion? I’m just sucking up right? Trying to get into his head? Oh you sweet innocent idiots. Scorpion and me are way more alike than people want to give credit to. He battles his personal demons, I just happen to embrace being one. He never shyed away from a fight, something I don’t do either. And if you ever got in the ring with him? He made sure you would never come out the other side the same.
His wars with Rob Arnold, someone also featured on tonight's show, are the stuff of myth today. No one bothers to go watch the tapes but I saw them live anyway. Scorpion was ruthless, always challenging Rob’s arrogance with his brand of violence. That’s who I wanted to be. That’s who I wanted to emulate. Someone who never took shit from anyone, no matter how clever their words might be.”
-Dreadvan then brings his attention back to the camera and places a hand over his heart.-
“I wanted to be the next Scorpion when I got here. I can admit that now. I was going to do it my way yes, but I wanted to prove I could be in the same conversation. Prove my worth to the only man I ever idolized. When I was told I was going to compete for the belt he so generously gifted this shithole, I was ecstatic. But I had to keep it hidden. After all that’s what he would have done, I know it.
-Dreadvan then turns his attention back to the ring. Some people are testing the strength of the ropes inside. Some local talents even making sure it was bump worthy. The big man continues.-
“I was hoping I could meet Scorpion when he was inducted into AXW’s hall of fame class. But no matter how hard I tried he was always being ushered off somewhere else just in time. Perhaps people thought I would try to beat him up. Perhaps they didn’t feel like I was worthy to even shake his hand. To be honest? I don’t know what I would have done. Sometimes it’s hard to commit to being so anti society. But now that I think about it, the way this all turned out? Perhaps it was better that we didn’t meet.
You see because, today, I will meet him. And not in some formal ceremony, but in a squared circle. In the arena he helped jumpstart from day one. The very company who went out of their way to honor him at every turn. It wasn’t just a hall of fame class, one I’ll point out might be the only ever, but also naming a huge tournament after him.
And what better way too? He was a man I respected first and foremost for getting it done between the ropes, not the mountains of accolades he collected along the way. In some ways I wish it was just the two of us because in there I’ll see the real Scorpion. Not the company man, not the cleaned up version to promote the latest AXW video game or shirt. But the warrior.”
-Dreadvan then hangs his head.-
“But I’m lying to myself aren’t I? This is a Scorpion ten years older. Ten years slower. Ten years removed from real competition. I heard his appearance at the hall of fame ceremony was heavily scripted. He was coached over and over again through the motions. Maybe that was a sick rumor, but something tells me its the truth. I watched his videos hyping up the match. His doctors clearly telling him he doesn’t have what it takes to go anymore.
Yet he’s still fighting isn’t he? He’s still eager to get back in there. To unleash that beast inside him one more time, even if it kills him. To reclaim the gold he helped make famous. The championship I secretly did everything in my power to honor his name and live up to that legacy.”
-Dread even places both hands on the barricade now. He’s clearly battling with something hard.-
“But I’m going to be the one who has to remind him his time has past. It’s not that I don’t want to see him ride off into the sunset, but he’s trying to take the European Championship with him. I need that title. Not because I’m jealous of him, but because it proves who I am. It gives me the opportunity to spread the evil and hate in my heart to the rest of the world.
I’m sorry for what I am about to do. I really am. Scorpion, I hope when you go back to that hospital you can forgive me. I hope you understand. That my drive to win this title back means more to me that childhood dreams come true. It’s my affirmation as a man. It’s my desire as a demon. It’s my will as a champion.”
-Dreadvan’s then sits back up and then takes a few seconds to stand. His knees are wobbling heavily and he has to grab that barricade even harder to even get this far. A very keen eyed observer would notice what could be some tears in the corner of this large monsters eyes.-
“Scorpion, be proud. I’ll carry on your legacy. I’ll proudly wear the title you so graciously offered AXW for the next generation to carry. I know you’re doing your best to practice for me in particular, but my dear, unintentional mentor, It’s not going to be enough. I have to treat you like the scum that is Brad Swann, and the two faced loser known as Stormcrow. I don’t want to, but I have to.
I have to prove to the world I’m not just chasing your coattails, I’m just flat out better than you. I have to lay rest to the legend that is Scorpion. I know this will marr your legacy, but I promise your beating will have all the love and respect in it. When you touch your bruises, when you trace your fingers along your scars, know they are out of love.”
-Dreavan turns his back to the camera now, and a sort of whimper can be heard coming out of his massive frame. He would never go on to admit this, but already this is killing him.-
“Scorpion, my story needs to keep being written. Maybe one day after my career is over, you’ll be in good enough shape to come to my hall of fame induction. But unlike you, I’ll search you out, I’ll let you take a picture with me too. A picture of the two of us holding the European Championship I’ll hold onto till that day. And instead of saying cheese, we’ll smile and say
Be….
Be cau….”
-Dreadvan pulls his shirt close to his face and sneezes right into it.-
“BE CAUTIOUS OF DEMONS!”
Business as usual really but there are some tears creeping down some faces. Many of them do not know what the future holds, but they are determined for tonight to be the event it deserves to be. For many of them this would certainly be the last time they ever had a part in a wrestling show. For others they had already found jobs in other promotions, some XHF related, some not. Yet the overwhelming feeling is very positive. The tears clearly more of fond memories rather than mourning.
Dreadvan then can be seen taking his time walking down a set of steps between the seats. He’s sweating profusely and of course every few he leans over and props himself up with a chair to catch his breath. Every time it would seem like he was about to keel over and finally have that fabled and oft talked about heart attack, he would swallow and then resume his march.
He makes it down to ringside, his breathing labored, clothes most certainly stained now by natural sweat oils. The ring crew actually have to pull their shirt over their noses because he’s built up a cloud of body odor that just seems to never leave their nostrils as soon as it barges it’s way in. Some with weaker constitutions even vomit and lament the fact they have extra work to do shortly after.
Dreadvan doesn’t really acknowledge any of it though. He seems rather focused and looking at the ring. He then sits down on two seats in the front row. He made sure to take his time in order to avoid breaking them outright. A mistake he’s committed far too many times to count during his life. Dreadvan wipes his brow as the camera operator finally made their way over. Dreadvan puts up an index finger, clearly gesturing to ask for a few more moments. When his breath finally gets back to a reasonable rate he speaks.-
“Here we are. We’re sitting just a few feet away from the ring where it all started and now will all end. You know I said a few days ago that I finally came to terms with the finality of it all, but it’s still a bit unreal. Particularly from this view. This is what all those dumb people who spend their money to watch wrestling see. As a little demon I never went to wrestling shows. I was way more interested in going to the buffet than to see two oiled up guys beat the hell out of each other.
No that taste of beating the ever loving shit out of a person developed a bit later. But when I did discover it I was hooked. When I saw that I could get paid for beating a hated piece of trash, say whatever the hell I wanted, and be rewarded for it? Sounded like a dream come true. After all, what kind of demon works for fed ex? Postal service sure, but let’s just say they don’t have shorts in my size.
Now I know you people at home listening expect me to say I didn’t have any favorite wrestlers. I mean how the hell could I humble myself like that right? I’m the damn demon! But I did have one. One I thought was the coolest son of a bitch this side of hell. And his name was Scorpion.”
-Dreadvan shakes his head almost as if trying to hide a smile. Perhaps just trying to cover his cheeks so the viewer couldn’t see the clearly forming blush.-
“Now again, I know what you’re all thinking. How could I possibly like Scorpion? I’m just sucking up right? Trying to get into his head? Oh you sweet innocent idiots. Scorpion and me are way more alike than people want to give credit to. He battles his personal demons, I just happen to embrace being one. He never shyed away from a fight, something I don’t do either. And if you ever got in the ring with him? He made sure you would never come out the other side the same.
His wars with Rob Arnold, someone also featured on tonight's show, are the stuff of myth today. No one bothers to go watch the tapes but I saw them live anyway. Scorpion was ruthless, always challenging Rob’s arrogance with his brand of violence. That’s who I wanted to be. That’s who I wanted to emulate. Someone who never took shit from anyone, no matter how clever their words might be.”
-Dreadvan then brings his attention back to the camera and places a hand over his heart.-
“I wanted to be the next Scorpion when I got here. I can admit that now. I was going to do it my way yes, but I wanted to prove I could be in the same conversation. Prove my worth to the only man I ever idolized. When I was told I was going to compete for the belt he so generously gifted this shithole, I was ecstatic. But I had to keep it hidden. After all that’s what he would have done, I know it.
-Dreadvan then turns his attention back to the ring. Some people are testing the strength of the ropes inside. Some local talents even making sure it was bump worthy. The big man continues.-
“I was hoping I could meet Scorpion when he was inducted into AXW’s hall of fame class. But no matter how hard I tried he was always being ushered off somewhere else just in time. Perhaps people thought I would try to beat him up. Perhaps they didn’t feel like I was worthy to even shake his hand. To be honest? I don’t know what I would have done. Sometimes it’s hard to commit to being so anti society. But now that I think about it, the way this all turned out? Perhaps it was better that we didn’t meet.
You see because, today, I will meet him. And not in some formal ceremony, but in a squared circle. In the arena he helped jumpstart from day one. The very company who went out of their way to honor him at every turn. It wasn’t just a hall of fame class, one I’ll point out might be the only ever, but also naming a huge tournament after him.
And what better way too? He was a man I respected first and foremost for getting it done between the ropes, not the mountains of accolades he collected along the way. In some ways I wish it was just the two of us because in there I’ll see the real Scorpion. Not the company man, not the cleaned up version to promote the latest AXW video game or shirt. But the warrior.”
-Dreadvan then hangs his head.-
“But I’m lying to myself aren’t I? This is a Scorpion ten years older. Ten years slower. Ten years removed from real competition. I heard his appearance at the hall of fame ceremony was heavily scripted. He was coached over and over again through the motions. Maybe that was a sick rumor, but something tells me its the truth. I watched his videos hyping up the match. His doctors clearly telling him he doesn’t have what it takes to go anymore.
Yet he’s still fighting isn’t he? He’s still eager to get back in there. To unleash that beast inside him one more time, even if it kills him. To reclaim the gold he helped make famous. The championship I secretly did everything in my power to honor his name and live up to that legacy.”
-Dread even places both hands on the barricade now. He’s clearly battling with something hard.-
“But I’m going to be the one who has to remind him his time has past. It’s not that I don’t want to see him ride off into the sunset, but he’s trying to take the European Championship with him. I need that title. Not because I’m jealous of him, but because it proves who I am. It gives me the opportunity to spread the evil and hate in my heart to the rest of the world.
I’m sorry for what I am about to do. I really am. Scorpion, I hope when you go back to that hospital you can forgive me. I hope you understand. That my drive to win this title back means more to me that childhood dreams come true. It’s my affirmation as a man. It’s my desire as a demon. It’s my will as a champion.”
-Dreadvan’s then sits back up and then takes a few seconds to stand. His knees are wobbling heavily and he has to grab that barricade even harder to even get this far. A very keen eyed observer would notice what could be some tears in the corner of this large monsters eyes.-
“Scorpion, be proud. I’ll carry on your legacy. I’ll proudly wear the title you so graciously offered AXW for the next generation to carry. I know you’re doing your best to practice for me in particular, but my dear, unintentional mentor, It’s not going to be enough. I have to treat you like the scum that is Brad Swann, and the two faced loser known as Stormcrow. I don’t want to, but I have to.
I have to prove to the world I’m not just chasing your coattails, I’m just flat out better than you. I have to lay rest to the legend that is Scorpion. I know this will marr your legacy, but I promise your beating will have all the love and respect in it. When you touch your bruises, when you trace your fingers along your scars, know they are out of love.”
-Dreavan turns his back to the camera now, and a sort of whimper can be heard coming out of his massive frame. He would never go on to admit this, but already this is killing him.-
“Scorpion, my story needs to keep being written. Maybe one day after my career is over, you’ll be in good enough shape to come to my hall of fame induction. But unlike you, I’ll search you out, I’ll let you take a picture with me too. A picture of the two of us holding the European Championship I’ll hold onto till that day. And instead of saying cheese, we’ll smile and say
Be….
Be cau….”
-Dreadvan pulls his shirt close to his face and sneezes right into it.-
“BE CAUTIOUS OF DEMONS!”