Post by Soutter on Nov 17, 2019 1:41:27 GMT -5
[We open to see the Cleaver, Carlos Sanchez sitting in his cave on the Asylum Islands with his young protégé here he took under his wing, Sarah.]
Cleaver : So the time has come little one, I must leave this place and head to greener pastures, Asylum Wrestling is no more, and I am off to conquer the XHF World.
Sarah : (she warms her hands by the small cozy campfire) I knew this day would come. I will be fine, I was before we met and I will be long after. It is you I worry for, not I.
Cleaver : (an amused chuckle) Ohhh, I know you will be fine, fear not for I though youngling, these Puta’s I am going to be coming up against in the PSW, they are the ones to whom you should direct your concern.
Sarah : I care not what comes of them, only you.
Cleaver : (he smiles fondly at her) You know homes, I am going to miss you. Cherish this wonderful place we discovered here, from time to time, I will pop by and check in on you.
Sarah : You better.
[She wipes a tear from her eye and flings herself at Cleaver, hugging him tightly, he also wipes away a tear over her shoulder, he is too tough to show her such a display of affection. We then switch to a new setting, Cleaver is now seated on a level of concrete steps in the Bronx. He is twirling his knife in between his fingers and the sunlight glimmers off it.]
Cleaver : Chale homes. From one jungle to another it seems. It matters little to me really where you place the ring and whom you place against me. I will slice and dice any Vato that is unfortunate enough to meet me in the ring.
Asylum was fun, it was different, I relished every moment I spent there, but as is the case in this business, feds come and go as quick as the wind changes. LXW looked like a good next step, back to my Lucha roots, alas, I was unfulfilled there and I need to battle, I need to get in the ring and I need to perform, that wasn’t happening there, so, I had to find a new home, and that leads us to hear, Phantom Star Wrestling.
[Cleaver picks a piece of dirt from his pinky nail with the blade, then holsters it on his hip and faces the second camera, his back pressing up against the concrete building in the Bronx jungle.]
Cleaver : Such a nostalgic place here in the Bronx we find ourselves. Right here, up in the apartment above us here (the camera follows his words to the higher-level window) was the home of one Cool Herc. The founder of rap. That Vato Loco would pump out the jams and the B-Boys would gather under here and dance by the fire bins to his hot beats, it was quite the time. He would host the wildest parties and Rock Steady Crew and others would perfect their art breaking away to his mad beats.
[Cleaver smiles at the evolution.]
Cleaver : Hercs vision created a billion-dollar industry, copy cats the world over. Now I enter the Bronx, and I will stamp a new legend in this town. They will talk of the day I massacred Rey Noche in future years here in the Bronx in the same way I just retold the story of Cool Herc.
The day the Cleaver entered PSW. Remember it well homes. My revolution begins here, now, at Bronx Battle Mayhem. No cage can hold me, and no wrestle can match me. Noche, nothing personal Essay, see you, Van Cortland Park.
Cleaver : So the time has come little one, I must leave this place and head to greener pastures, Asylum Wrestling is no more, and I am off to conquer the XHF World.
Sarah : (she warms her hands by the small cozy campfire) I knew this day would come. I will be fine, I was before we met and I will be long after. It is you I worry for, not I.
Cleaver : (an amused chuckle) Ohhh, I know you will be fine, fear not for I though youngling, these Puta’s I am going to be coming up against in the PSW, they are the ones to whom you should direct your concern.
Sarah : I care not what comes of them, only you.
Cleaver : (he smiles fondly at her) You know homes, I am going to miss you. Cherish this wonderful place we discovered here, from time to time, I will pop by and check in on you.
Sarah : You better.
[She wipes a tear from her eye and flings herself at Cleaver, hugging him tightly, he also wipes away a tear over her shoulder, he is too tough to show her such a display of affection. We then switch to a new setting, Cleaver is now seated on a level of concrete steps in the Bronx. He is twirling his knife in between his fingers and the sunlight glimmers off it.]
Cleaver : Chale homes. From one jungle to another it seems. It matters little to me really where you place the ring and whom you place against me. I will slice and dice any Vato that is unfortunate enough to meet me in the ring.
Asylum was fun, it was different, I relished every moment I spent there, but as is the case in this business, feds come and go as quick as the wind changes. LXW looked like a good next step, back to my Lucha roots, alas, I was unfulfilled there and I need to battle, I need to get in the ring and I need to perform, that wasn’t happening there, so, I had to find a new home, and that leads us to hear, Phantom Star Wrestling.
[Cleaver picks a piece of dirt from his pinky nail with the blade, then holsters it on his hip and faces the second camera, his back pressing up against the concrete building in the Bronx jungle.]
Cleaver : Such a nostalgic place here in the Bronx we find ourselves. Right here, up in the apartment above us here (the camera follows his words to the higher-level window) was the home of one Cool Herc. The founder of rap. That Vato Loco would pump out the jams and the B-Boys would gather under here and dance by the fire bins to his hot beats, it was quite the time. He would host the wildest parties and Rock Steady Crew and others would perfect their art breaking away to his mad beats.
[Cleaver smiles at the evolution.]
Cleaver : Hercs vision created a billion-dollar industry, copy cats the world over. Now I enter the Bronx, and I will stamp a new legend in this town. They will talk of the day I massacred Rey Noche in future years here in the Bronx in the same way I just retold the story of Cool Herc.
The day the Cleaver entered PSW. Remember it well homes. My revolution begins here, now, at Bronx Battle Mayhem. No cage can hold me, and no wrestle can match me. Noche, nothing personal Essay, see you, Van Cortland Park.
