Post by Keynan Isara on Feb 6, 2013 21:36:44 GMT -5
I stand here in almost complete darkness, the only light visible when I dip my eyes down towards the floor. You see nothing but darkness. To you, I’m doing nothing more than standing here at the gorilla position in my hoodie waiting for my music to hit so I can walk out from the back and head to the ring. To me, I’m doing none of those things. To me, I’m already in that ring with you. You’re not standing there waiting for the match to begin, no. You’re laying there broken and beaten after spending the last few minutes getting beaten and decimated by yours truly. You see, this match has already ended before it has begun because I see that the match is already over. I just have to wait until I get out there to show you what I’ve already seen with my own eyes.
I stand here as the crowd in attendance buzzes around me. You hear the fans out there chanting “REV” over and over. You hear them chanting the names of the various wrestlers that they came to see or that they have seen. I don’t hear any of that. I’m still in the ring, but this time I’m not looking down at your broken and beaten body. I’m listening to the sound of your back, neck, and head severely impacting the mat as I drop you for a powerbomb. I’m listening to the sound of the air rushing out of your lungs as I cut you in half with a Samoan Spear. I listen to you slowly stop breathing as I choke you out with the Samoan Sleeper. I listen to the sound of your arm slapping the mat three times as the referee checks on you to see if you’re even with us anymore.
I stand here as men and women file past me and as the crowd members drink their beer and smoke their cigars. You smell sweat, cigar smoke, and alcohol. I don’t smell those things. I smell your fear. I smell the cowardice that permeates your very being. I smell the piss trailing down your leg as you stand there watching me, wondering when exactly I’m going to strike.
“No gods, no kings only man
They are not one of us
They are not one of us
They are not one of us
They are not one of us”
The opening lyrics for “God Eater” by Fear Factory start playing and the scene opens up at the gorilla position. Keynan Isara is standing there in his hoodie. He walks out from the back with Jayson Stasiak walking along with him, talking him up in preparation for his opponent. Keynan walks out from the back to find an empty arena with a spotlight in the middle.
Keynan walks down to the ring just like he would any other time, gets into the ring like he would any other time and taunts the crowd like he normally would. Jayson gets in the ring and hands him a microphone. Keynan throws back his hood and looks at the camera.
Keynan Isara: Tek the Wildcard. Wildcard? What, is your name supposed to imply that you’re unpredictable? That anything could happen with you? Yeah, that’s what happened last week with Eric Price. Everyone, Eric included, thought that there was no way a rookie like me could just walk into that ring and beat someone who has the amount of experience as Eric. Someone who has enjoyed immense success in other companies. I did the unexpected and I beat Eric Price in the middle of this ring. The thing about that win is it came out of nowhere, not just the fact that I won in the first place, no I ended that match way quicker than anyone anticipated. I didn’t even have to apply a Samoan Sleeper on that guy. No, he was done after a Samoan Spear. The Samoan Spear might not be my finisher, but it damn sure can finish off a match at any time and last week proved that. I showed in my first match here, my first match in the big leagues, that I was a force to be reckoned with.
Now I’m pitted against a guy who is supposedly a Wildcard. See, the thing is, I’m not like Jayde Brooklyn, Tyler Chrono, or any of these other people who don’t know you. To them, saying you’re a wildcard is believable. Not for me, no no, Tek. See, I know you. I’ve watched you in other companies. You’ve faced my mentor. I’ve seen what you have to offer. Last week you said that you’re known as the wildcard not because you play cards but “because when I am in the ring you never know when I will hit you with my finisher.” Go ahead Tek, hit me with your finisher. I’ll kick the hell out of that pitiful excuse for a move you call the Royal Flush. I’ll kick out, bounce off the ropes and cut you in half with a spear, then climb on your back and choke the life out of you.
You’re not the unpredictable one here, I’m the one that no one really knows nothing about. I’m the one who is going to do whatever it takes to win. I will pull out all the stops. I got my education out on the streets with my brothers in S.O.S. I fight to win, honor be damned. I will hit you with a cheap shot. I will hit you with a chair. Hell if I have to, I’ll take out the damn referee and use every foreign object on you until he wakes back up. The real difference between me and you is that you need this win. You need to beat me. You need to go on next week against Jayde or Tyler. You need to win this tournament and become REV’s first champion. I don’t need this. I don’t need none of those things. I WANT those things and I will take those things.
When I’m standing in the back at the gorilla position and my music hits, it doesn’t mean here comes Keynan Isara, everyone prepare for him to walk out from the back. No, it signals your end. It signals that the match has already ended before it has even begun. No gods, no kings, only man. I am THE man. I will prove that each and every week if I have to by taking down everyone in front of me. I will win that world title next week and I will hold that belt until it is ripped from my cold, dead hands.
In my mind, I’m already the REV’s first world champion. All I gotta do is prove to everyone that it’s true. I can either go through you in the middle of that ring, or you can do the smart thing and not show up. The choice is yours, Tek.
The scene fades to black.
I stand here as the crowd in attendance buzzes around me. You hear the fans out there chanting “REV” over and over. You hear them chanting the names of the various wrestlers that they came to see or that they have seen. I don’t hear any of that. I’m still in the ring, but this time I’m not looking down at your broken and beaten body. I’m listening to the sound of your back, neck, and head severely impacting the mat as I drop you for a powerbomb. I’m listening to the sound of the air rushing out of your lungs as I cut you in half with a Samoan Spear. I listen to you slowly stop breathing as I choke you out with the Samoan Sleeper. I listen to the sound of your arm slapping the mat three times as the referee checks on you to see if you’re even with us anymore.
I stand here as men and women file past me and as the crowd members drink their beer and smoke their cigars. You smell sweat, cigar smoke, and alcohol. I don’t smell those things. I smell your fear. I smell the cowardice that permeates your very being. I smell the piss trailing down your leg as you stand there watching me, wondering when exactly I’m going to strike.
“No gods, no kings only man
They are not one of us
They are not one of us
They are not one of us
They are not one of us”
The opening lyrics for “God Eater” by Fear Factory start playing and the scene opens up at the gorilla position. Keynan Isara is standing there in his hoodie. He walks out from the back with Jayson Stasiak walking along with him, talking him up in preparation for his opponent. Keynan walks out from the back to find an empty arena with a spotlight in the middle.
Keynan walks down to the ring just like he would any other time, gets into the ring like he would any other time and taunts the crowd like he normally would. Jayson gets in the ring and hands him a microphone. Keynan throws back his hood and looks at the camera.
Keynan Isara: Tek the Wildcard. Wildcard? What, is your name supposed to imply that you’re unpredictable? That anything could happen with you? Yeah, that’s what happened last week with Eric Price. Everyone, Eric included, thought that there was no way a rookie like me could just walk into that ring and beat someone who has the amount of experience as Eric. Someone who has enjoyed immense success in other companies. I did the unexpected and I beat Eric Price in the middle of this ring. The thing about that win is it came out of nowhere, not just the fact that I won in the first place, no I ended that match way quicker than anyone anticipated. I didn’t even have to apply a Samoan Sleeper on that guy. No, he was done after a Samoan Spear. The Samoan Spear might not be my finisher, but it damn sure can finish off a match at any time and last week proved that. I showed in my first match here, my first match in the big leagues, that I was a force to be reckoned with.
Now I’m pitted against a guy who is supposedly a Wildcard. See, the thing is, I’m not like Jayde Brooklyn, Tyler Chrono, or any of these other people who don’t know you. To them, saying you’re a wildcard is believable. Not for me, no no, Tek. See, I know you. I’ve watched you in other companies. You’ve faced my mentor. I’ve seen what you have to offer. Last week you said that you’re known as the wildcard not because you play cards but “because when I am in the ring you never know when I will hit you with my finisher.” Go ahead Tek, hit me with your finisher. I’ll kick the hell out of that pitiful excuse for a move you call the Royal Flush. I’ll kick out, bounce off the ropes and cut you in half with a spear, then climb on your back and choke the life out of you.
You’re not the unpredictable one here, I’m the one that no one really knows nothing about. I’m the one who is going to do whatever it takes to win. I will pull out all the stops. I got my education out on the streets with my brothers in S.O.S. I fight to win, honor be damned. I will hit you with a cheap shot. I will hit you with a chair. Hell if I have to, I’ll take out the damn referee and use every foreign object on you until he wakes back up. The real difference between me and you is that you need this win. You need to beat me. You need to go on next week against Jayde or Tyler. You need to win this tournament and become REV’s first champion. I don’t need this. I don’t need none of those things. I WANT those things and I will take those things.
When I’m standing in the back at the gorilla position and my music hits, it doesn’t mean here comes Keynan Isara, everyone prepare for him to walk out from the back. No, it signals your end. It signals that the match has already ended before it has even begun. No gods, no kings, only man. I am THE man. I will prove that each and every week if I have to by taking down everyone in front of me. I will win that world title next week and I will hold that belt until it is ripped from my cold, dead hands.
In my mind, I’m already the REV’s first world champion. All I gotta do is prove to everyone that it’s true. I can either go through you in the middle of that ring, or you can do the smart thing and not show up. The choice is yours, Tek.
The scene fades to black.
