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| Date of RP: 12/19/02 Current Record (IWF): 4/0/3 Current Accomplishments: IWF Bad-Ass Champion Check out all the IWF action here. |
~~Sometimes
we find ourselves wishing we were dead. Not just dead to the
world, no...no. Sometimes we find ourselves in situations that
become too much to handle that we just want to give up...take some time
away...just leave. Become, to the rest of the world and maybe
even ourselves, dead.~~ ~~Because sometimes you need to escape...if you're weak, tired of it all...you just want to escape.~~ ~~Unless your name is KMD. If your name is KMD, you're used to it by now...you can take the hits, you can beat the living hell out of yourself and others, because it just doesn't matter anymore. KMD never had a nice mug, and he never really cared if his mug was messed up...because he knew, deep down, that a pretty face and a nice smile will only get you so far in life. The rest is made up of skill, determination, and experience...and a few good connections.~~ VOICE: O-lay, olay, olay, olay... ~~Skill, check...had that from the day he was born...in-born talent is what they call it...a natural to the sport. Determination, check...there hasn't been a man in the history of the sport with more than this guy...he knows what he wants and he knows how to get it. Experience, check...18 years of in-ring knowledge doesn't lie...he's the best at what he does. And connections, yeah, he has those. Has them and had them.~~ VOICE: O-lay, o-lay. ~~He always told the world that he was just a bodyguard for Padrino...hired goon muscle...played it safe, played it dumb. Took orders and carried those orders out to the word. He was good working for Padrino...maybe too good.~~ VOICE: Where's my little miss? There she is. ~~The truth of the matter is this: yeah, he was a bodyguard. But he was a little more than just a bodyguard...KMD was Joey's clean-up man. He never let anyone know this because everyone knows what they do...they're the guys who go in when shit gets too hot...he doesn't enforce, he exacts...sometimes for no reason at all other than Joey wanted the man put down. KMD was a hitman. KMD was a DAMN good hitman.~~ VOICE: Lets make you a little more comfortable, shall we? ~~Maybe thats why it was so hard for KMD to get out of the business...maybe thats why KMD had to pull all the stops to get out...maybe thats why people got hurt, people got captured, people got killed. To Joey, it was all a game...a game he intended to win...what was another puny federation? Just some more pocket change and a roster full of guys wanting to make the big money...the big scores...young guys with their lives ahead of them. Young guys willing to take that offer you can't refuse. As well as guys who refused that offer. Guys like KMD.~~ VOICE: Here she goes! ~~We fade into a shot of a night sky, neon glancing off in the distance and small crowds off in the distance. Rooftops, lots of rooftops covered in pigeon shit and bits and pieces of garbage...college roofs...roofs with the discarded underwear and empty beer bottles of a thousand frat parties past. Slowly the camera pans around, coming to a shot of one man sitting on the edge of his roof, by the window, chugging a bottle of beer. A man in a leather trenchcoat and combat boots, head freshly shaven, leaving only a thick goatee. KMD.~~ KMD: And another one bites the dust. ~~Krev finishes the bottle, and then tosses it aside, watching it roll down the roof, coming to rest in the gutter. He chuckles as he reaches behind himself, pulling out another bottle from a cooler strategically placed behind him.~~ KMD: Its done, right? Yep...well, almost done. We took control of our fed again...we gave Padrino the boot....only to find out that he wasn't just duping me these couple years, but duping me the past 16 years...you're one slick performer, Joey. One slick performer. But where did it land you? ~~KMD pops the top of the bottle, flicking the cap across the street with little effort from an upturned arm. It bounces off of a lightpost, making a small CLANG sound. He notices the camera on the roof next to him.~~ KMD: Damn you people are persistant. Phil? Phil, is that you? PHIL: Yeah. I needed to get ahold of you...the second round of WWC is coming up, and we haven't sent in any camera-time. I wanted to make sure you got out what you needed to say before you pound the living tar out of Nick Jackson. ~~KMD smiles.~~ KMD: Oh yeah...what with the Padrino situation out of the equation, I forgot all about it...yeah, Nick Jackson. Who is "Nick Jackson"? Why is he even going to try? PHIL: I dunno man. Can I have a beer? KMD: How old are you? PHIL: 21...er...well, 19. ~~KMD watches Phil, unblinking.~~ KMD: Underage...shouldn't do that, kid. ~~Phil nods as KMD reaches behind him and pulls out a bottle. He tosses it over to the other rooftop. The camera drops for a moment as Phil catches the bottle one-handed.~~ KMD:Don't say I never did nothing for ya. ~~We can hear a bottle being opened, and then a bottlecap graze the lamp post. The camera steadies.~~ KMD: Alright, lets punt this hamster. I have advanced to round 2 of WWC9 to face off against Nick Jackson...well, it seems that Krypto put up more of a fight than I let on...and, as it seems, he has moved onto round 2 as well. Maybe I didn't do a good enough job, maybe it was just fated that Krypto was to be put up against one of the men that I look on as a brother. Sorry, Shawn, you get the dupe this round...be gentle with him. He's a good kid. ~~Krev takes a long swig from his bottle.~~ KMD: A good kid, just a little on the...heh...moronic side, if you will. But this round won't be as interesting for me...no, no. I have to face off against a bubble-headed boob named "Sick" Nick Jackson. Where did this guy come from? I don't know, and I really don't care. Can I predict how the match is going to go? No. Can I tell you that I will most definately best this man in the ring? No. Can I tell you how much I care that this man is, no doubt, going to talk trash about me or my federation? No. Do I care? ~~Another pause. KMD takes a swig from his bottle.~~ KMD: Nope. Fact is, I've had harder walnuts to crack, and guys more menacing than this foul-mouthed clown to disassemble. And, quite frankly, I enjoy taking apart people...getting to know how they tick. Nick Jackson, you are the furthest thing on my mind right now...WWC is just a "for-fun" competition, right? The best of the best face off against each other in modern-day gladitorial battle...in-ring warfare. Lucky old Nick here drew the Suplex Samauri...the Canvas Cowboy...for his second round match. I am so sorry, dude...so sorry that I'm going to have to go through you to get what I want. But thats how the cookie crumbles, right? ~~There is yet another pause. KMD finishes off his bottle, and chucks it to the other rooftop. It rolls down and lands beside the other empty bottle.~~ KMD: It is indeed how they crumble. Just another obstacle...and you know what? My original intention for joining WWC has ended. We put down Joey, end of story. My sister is back with her husband, Shawn is...well, coping, and we got to know who Joey really was. There is no longer the need to garner an army, there is no longer the need to build a contact base...Joey is out of the picture. Now my eyes turn to a more interesting approach to this tournement...my eyes saw the gold strapped around Lawson, and my heart just sort of went "hell yeah. I want THAT." I can't deny my heart, can I? I mean, yeah, it'll just be another belt to hang on the wall...but for that moment...that short, fleeting moment...I would have proved to myself just how damn good I am. I don't give a shit about anyone else...hell, I don't give a shit if people watch me and like me, because the point is I want that belt to prove to myself...and the rest of the world...that everything in wrestling isn't wrong...that there aren't as many corporate screwjobs and inter-federation politics to cloud the sport that I strive to make clean. ~~KMD reaches behind himself, digging through ice. He curses to himself, silently.~~ PHIL: Out of beer? KMD: Yeah...damn it. I guess 2 cases wasn't enough. PHIL: Two cases?! Damn man, maybe you should slow down a little...ever think you might drink *too* much? KMD: No. ~~Krev closes the cooler and crosses his arms, staring off into the distance of the city. A group of college-age girls walk by, drunk as f#@$ and laughing to themselves. Krev smiles as he leans over, watching them.~~ PHIL: Really man...too much will kill you, man. We don't want the baddest man in wrestling today to die because of liver failure...that just doesn't sound...fitting. Know what I mean? KMD: Popeye. PHIL: What? ~~Krev stands up on the roof and paces around a bit.~~ KMD: I'm like Popeye...alcohol is my spinach. PHIL: You can't be serious. Are you? ~~KMD smiles, wagging his finger at Phil.~~ KMD: At least it isn't CRACK. ~~Krev reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small flask. He takes a sip from it. He shoves it back down into his pocket.~~ KMD: That combination...beer, and then whiskey...probably a bad combination...but, eh, I don't care. I have bigger things to worry about, right? PHIL: Like what? KMD: Like HALO and how he wants to take my title away from me. PHIL: Yeah, there is that. ~~KMD nods and pulls out a cigar.~~ KMD: I see it like this: HALO wants to take on KMD for messing up his very first match in the IWF...I didn't exactly mess it up, you see...I was simply doing what I do best. HALO, apparently, didn't like that...HALO decided that he should get another shot at taking me out...and, this time, I'm putting my ttile on the line. HALO thinks that it won't happen again...HALO thinks that this time he will be ready. HALO thinks that cutting through KMD will be easy...that KMD is just some wrinkled old has-been without any rights to the Bad-Ass belt he has strapped around his waist. You know what I think of HALO? PHIL: What? KMD: I think HALO thinks too much of himself. Bring it on, kid...bring all you have, because what it comes down to is that this belt is strapped around my waist for a reason. When people think of Bad-Ass, they think of KMD, not HALO. Know this and learn this...there is no two ways around it...you fought for your right, at The Rising, to lose to KMD one more time. Hell, you have balls, I'll give you that. More balls than brains, but that comes with age, right? ~~KMD lights his cigar, puffing hard as the end flares up.~~ KMD: Both HALO and Sick Nick are going to have to recognize one thing, above all else. Yeah, I'm crazy...self-admitted....but I'm that sort of crazy that makes it harder for you to rest at night. Harmless? Not one bit. Old and off his rocker? Naw, try again. I got the lunacy, man...I'm the physical embodiment of Chaos itself...I am, and can turn it off an on like a faucet, The Berserker. I am KMD, the baddest bastard in the business...and the King of Legends for a reason. DO NOT F#$% WITH ME. ~~KMD takes a long puff from his cigar.~~ PHIL: What about Ebdon? ~~Krev pauses as he looks at the camera, blowing smoke rings out of his mouth.~~ KMD: What about him? PHIL: No one knows what side he's on...and he's taken some hostility towards you. ~~KMD grins and takes a pull from his flask.~~ KMD: Ebdon, it seems, switches between fed and sides like he switches his underwear. Wishy-washy is no way to go through life, Petey. I'll tell you what it is, why he shows hostility towards me...see, there was this fed called the IWF, and Pete Ebdon was the champion. KMD shows up...behind the scenes, mind you...talks to some people, and gets the fed shut down...I mean, hell, the place was struggling badly, and I hate to see my creation suffer like that, and, well, Ebdon was the champion, so things couldn't have been so good, know what I mean, Phil? ~~The camera nods 'yes'.~~ PHIL: He's pissed off at you for taking away all his glory? KMD: Yeah, sort of...something like that. He's British, so, you know...he's a little confounded in the head...you'll have that. But do you know the full reason as to why Ebdon decided to target KMD? PHIL: Why is that? KMD: He arrived at the IWF, took a look around, and saw that the only worthy opponent on the roster is indeed KMD. He wants his shot at glory, he wants to be a legend...he wants to take down "The Man" in order to be "The Man." Futile attempts from a little boy is all it is. When he's said something worthwhile, then we can talk. Until then, keep on trying, little, little man. Keep trying to compare and compete with KMD...hell, everyone else in this fed wants to try it...why not add on one more? Step in line, Ebdon, step in line. ~~KMD takes a puff from his cigar as we fade to black...~~
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