Three men run their mouths over and over while one just tries to recover from whatever it is that is keeping him down. An interesting match indeed.
Ichabod sits on the edge of a bench drinking an Aquafina. Sweat glistens over his shirtless body as he has just finished another of Steve's torture trainings. He breathes deeply as he thinks over the words that have passed carefully(carelessly?) from the lips of his opponents.
Where to begin... Dark Angel? Why hell, with you coming up and sticking your nose into my business, I'd expect a fireball waiting to let loose. Instead, so far, all I've found is a crying little bitch who is searching for long lost...whatever. Here I am gearing up to kick your ass all over creation and now I find out its only a waste? You aren't even preparing for this match, much less focusing on us, the men who will hand your ass to you piece by piece. I'm still waiting for you, but now I see its not necessary to push myself so hard for your benifit.
Then there is Adrean, the reality x bitch. Damn, as if one of you being a joke isn't enough, you've got three grinning clowns calling each other the best. Whats it like to think you are elite when the entire world laughs at you? It can't be satisfying. As long as you run with the dogs, you are a dog, and much less than a man. No satisfaction will ever come your way like this, and that includes the satisfaction of winning a title like the Hardcore Belt. You invite me to stop talking and kick someone's ass, well maybe you can't read or see, but I've won ALL of the matches I've been in since I started here. The only exception is last week... and I had that won if not for our little recuperating buddy Dark Angel. You'll see, Adrean, you'll see what I'm all about, and the words we exchange will eventually fade away to nothing, fade into actions, as I crush you in the ring. I've got a little for everyone... Jug for thinking he is great when I had him beat, Dark for putting his foot in a closing door on Jugs reign as champion, and you for just running your mouth, spouting this stupidity--like saying I am gothic... what the hell?-- that no one at all really cares about.
And Jug... Ah, Juggernaut. Still not ready to believe I am better than you even though I proved it. You can bitch and whine about not being ready.... actually for someone not complaining about his concussion, you sure dwell on it a lot. And I know how hardcore rules work, hell the first title I ever won was the Hardcore Title. I am a veteran, and I know about how most of the matches work, and how to twist them to your own design. The point, which you conveniently miss every time, is that win or lose, I kicked your damn ass. I had you beaten, and although the rules allowed Dark Angel to interfere, that doesn't mean he didn't rob me of what is mine. It doesn't mean I can't pay him for what he brought me. And my focus? My God, man, I know better than to go into the match just gunning for Dark Angel. Like I said, I am a vet, and I know that that would be my fall. I'm not as stupid as you look, but hey, if you want to think so, go ahead and underestimate me again, you saw what happened last time.
But it is agreed that you and I will be the forces it comes down to in this match. I can tell that you and I are the only ones who are serious about this, and hey, I say let it stand that way. We can tear Adrean and Angel new assholes for the first three minutes of that match, but when it comes down to you and I, its on like its never been on before. This time there will be no outside interference because all the players are in the game already. Once they are eliminated, the Gods of Hardcore, you and I, will be fight a battle that will make our joke of a match at Sole Survivor look like slap boxing. I know its not going to be easy, but by God it will be fun.
You mention my training... you know you don't have a lot of room to talk, son. What is your training regime... do you even train? I have yet to see you put forth a good honest workout, what are you doing? You gonna let your tired 3 month old hardcore muscles and bones just rot away? Thats fine with me, because one way or another, I'm going to break you down. My training is for a great purpose which you'll never understand, it empowers me, makes me stronger, while in the same stroke desensitizing me to pain. Isnt' that what being in a hardcore match is about, at least in part? Taking the pain with the glory? If you aren't ready to deal with that, then you aren't ready for my brand of Hardcore, and I'm going to infest YOUR division with MY sickness, giving a whole new look and feel, and you'll just have to take the backdoor out, because there is no room for you anymore.
Ichabod finishes the water and stands up to go meet Steve for some more training....
|
