Post by Arty Kaiser on Nov 13, 2014 6:08:49 GMT
Get that damn camera out of my face.
You know, this is so boring to me. I am going to trounce Alex Arren and move on to the next one. I am not going to write some snazzy mess in the match description. As a matter of fact, I would much prefer to do it to the Frank Cocheese vs. Maxwell Schneider match. That one is going to be the game-changer. That is my true focus. Isn't that weird? My mind's eye can focus on something that I am not even participating in. Anyways, prepare the coffin for Alex Arren. Unfortunately, they aren't going to find much of him. Management has put me in a match on a weird week. I am not feeling myself. I'm feeling a weird way. I am unsure if I should even be typing right now. Play the damn footage, you damn cameraman.
KONSTANTINE sat down with his hands locked together. This time he sat inside of his personal locker room. He pulled some strings and acquired space to think. He told Rech and Garland that he would mutilate anyone that got too close to him. They obliged begrudgingly. Honestly, they probably don’t care less on who KONSTANTINE annihilates, but the fact that it would be unwarranted. That is lawsuits waiting to occur or worse. They would have to appease the wants of those injured. It would ruin the natural rhythm of RWD. They didn’t want that. They already had several people trying to do that already. All in the name of Frank Washington, right? KONSTANTINE made a bitter noise.
This whole situation was starting to get messy. KONSTANTINE had to avoid it. He had his mind on one thing. The RWD World Championship was right in his grasp. There was still the ignorant animal there, reaching for the gold. KONSTANTINE’s hand moved, reaching out to something. He retracted it back shortly after. What was The Last King looking at? He kept reaching out to it and bringing it back.
It was a calendar. It was covered in sticky notes on particular days. “Sooner or later, I will get my next opportunity,” he said, writing down a note. He raised the fluorescent colored sticker and posted it onto the calendar. “Alex, you have come a long way, but you stand before a man on a mission. I have come to defeat you and everyone else who stands for the RWD Heavyweight Championship,” KONSTANTINE said, while he began to write down another note.
“Frankie has a fine opportunity to be the first to stop this beast, but I must be the one to take him out for good. I started this problem. I have let it fester. I must take responsibility for my actions. Last week, I beat both Michael and Daniel Smart. This week, I am going to be a little trooper who has been garnering for some momentum. And the number of victims are going to keep piling up as time goes along. People are starting to see how fast I am picking up speed.”
“I have found my motivation,” KONSTANTINE said. “I never would have thought that I would find in an unstable animal like Schneider.”
“Onto my opponent, though. Alex Arren, the man who treads the line so delicately. I am intrigued in your philosophy. You seem like you’d do anything to win, but you seem to be holding yourself back. Is it your manager, or your friend there? Is he whispering good nothings into your ear about truth and honor? Does he not know that those two traits die in a horrible fire? Arren, do you see what letting go can help you do? It can help you become better.”
“You can win your matches with ease. You don’t have to worry about anyone taking advantage of you. You are taking advantage of them. When you learn what I have, you start to piece together all the fractures and in-formalities in our world. The only person you need is yourself. Ditch your manager. He is not going to do you good by telling you that it is not okay to bash a man’s head in with a chair. If that is the way you need to win the match, you go ahead and do it. Because what is truth and honor going to do when you’re down on your back for the one, two, three?”
Another sticky note.
“I want you to think about this when I pin you. I want you to come back to me after you’ve had some time to think about it. I will act like I care. Because my truth and honor has faded away. I don’t need some man to tell me how to pave my own path to glory. Because guess what? If you find a way to get there with his help, he is going to take all of the credit for himself. He is the one that got you there. He is the one who kept you going. Not that it was you that paid him. Not that you were the one who risked their career wrestling. He was not the one who didn’t get his face stomped in by Devin KONSTANTINE.”
“But just think on that,” he said, getting up from his chair. “I’d honestly love to hear your thoughts.”
What did he plot out on the calendar? Oh, just the word ‘Maxie” in sticky notes. What was written on them? All the ways he was going to maim him.
so quickly so sad!
