Post by Dylan on Oct 1, 2020 23:48:38 GMT -5
Arms folded. Looking off to his left. Signature beanie and flannel adorning him. He sighs, and slides his glasses off his face.
Galloway: Isn't it ironic? That he who questions the meaning of Master Class, is the man who worked the least time within the company? Or rather, least of the four present in this contest of class.
His upper lip curls into a bit of a snarl.
Galloway: God, when Brad Swann speaks, he just never stops talking. It's the Brad Swann hour every day. When Brad Swann opens his mouth, you shut up and- oh what's this?
He picks up a remote and thumbs the mute button.
Galloway: When Swann talks, you mute the tele because nobody wants to hear that man talk.
He rolls his eyes.
Galloway: The Destiny crowd is so easily bemused. "Best Promoer of the Year." Such a farce. Destiny wouldn't know a real promo if Chris Card was there speaking with a quarter of his braincells. Destiny is, simply put, a B Show. Which makes Swann, a B-Rate World Champion. When your only accolades include beating the man often confused as my brother, some psychotic space bitch, and the man with the most rubberized neck in the world, what does that leave you. The royal highness. The King...
He pauses.
Galloway: What is a King to a God?
He smirks.
Galloway: What is a King, who has everything he wants because he runs from detractors, to a God with untapped, unlimited potential? I'll tell you Swann, you ain't shit. While you go around, pomp and circumstancing your way through failed title shots, I go around and I beat people with weapons.
He leans in.
Galloway: See, I'm not in it for the glory of titles. I'm in it to beat you back to your grave. A deep, watery grave. Dark and despair-filled.
He dusts his hands off.
Galloway: But Swann isn't the only man across the ring from me. No, no, no, there's also Triple KQ! Kris Quake, you and I didn't have many an opportunity to share the ring in MCCW. But I remember a lot of things about you. I learned a few things while researching you, your work with Styler and Holland. Your... tendencies to get crunk and become an absolute mess.
He rolls his eyes.
Galloway: He isn't exactly the strongest tag partner in the ring, but goddamn he was impressive as a singles star. And speaking of "impressive singles stars," Eichi... don't think I've forgotten about you.
He folds his hands.
Galloway: Yes yes, I am aware you are my partner, and it is expected I put my absolute trust into you... but why am I to place my trust into the man who cheated and robbed me of everything in the beginning?
A cross look upon his face.
Galloway: You know it, I know it, Aleister and the MCCW alumni and the fans all know it. You cheated me out of the Gold Rush win, the shot at the MCCW Heavyweight Championship. You took everything from me... and I'm supposed to have faith in you?
He scoffs.
Galloway: Know this Eichi. I'll have your back for the 20 minutes we share the ring as a team. But the second you turn around, stab me or screw me over, I will stop at nothing to obliterate you. A year of pent up aggression and destruction will be rained onto you, a hell unlike ANY the yakuza could put you through. And when this match is over.
He leans in, the sunnies sliding just far enough down his nose to see his eyes.
Galloway: You will all learn to fear the man known as God. The Right Hand Man. Alan, Fucking, Galloway.
Fin.
Galloway: Isn't it ironic? That he who questions the meaning of Master Class, is the man who worked the least time within the company? Or rather, least of the four present in this contest of class.
His upper lip curls into a bit of a snarl.
Galloway: God, when Brad Swann speaks, he just never stops talking. It's the Brad Swann hour every day. When Brad Swann opens his mouth, you shut up and- oh what's this?
He picks up a remote and thumbs the mute button.
Galloway: When Swann talks, you mute the tele because nobody wants to hear that man talk.
He rolls his eyes.
Galloway: The Destiny crowd is so easily bemused. "Best Promoer of the Year." Such a farce. Destiny wouldn't know a real promo if Chris Card was there speaking with a quarter of his braincells. Destiny is, simply put, a B Show. Which makes Swann, a B-Rate World Champion. When your only accolades include beating the man often confused as my brother, some psychotic space bitch, and the man with the most rubberized neck in the world, what does that leave you. The royal highness. The King...
He pauses.
Galloway: What is a King to a God?
He smirks.
Galloway: What is a King, who has everything he wants because he runs from detractors, to a God with untapped, unlimited potential? I'll tell you Swann, you ain't shit. While you go around, pomp and circumstancing your way through failed title shots, I go around and I beat people with weapons.
He leans in.
Galloway: See, I'm not in it for the glory of titles. I'm in it to beat you back to your grave. A deep, watery grave. Dark and despair-filled.
He dusts his hands off.
Galloway: But Swann isn't the only man across the ring from me. No, no, no, there's also Triple KQ! Kris Quake, you and I didn't have many an opportunity to share the ring in MCCW. But I remember a lot of things about you. I learned a few things while researching you, your work with Styler and Holland. Your... tendencies to get crunk and become an absolute mess.
He rolls his eyes.
Galloway: He isn't exactly the strongest tag partner in the ring, but goddamn he was impressive as a singles star. And speaking of "impressive singles stars," Eichi... don't think I've forgotten about you.
He folds his hands.
Galloway: Yes yes, I am aware you are my partner, and it is expected I put my absolute trust into you... but why am I to place my trust into the man who cheated and robbed me of everything in the beginning?
A cross look upon his face.
Galloway: You know it, I know it, Aleister and the MCCW alumni and the fans all know it. You cheated me out of the Gold Rush win, the shot at the MCCW Heavyweight Championship. You took everything from me... and I'm supposed to have faith in you?
He scoffs.
Galloway: Know this Eichi. I'll have your back for the 20 minutes we share the ring as a team. But the second you turn around, stab me or screw me over, I will stop at nothing to obliterate you. A year of pent up aggression and destruction will be rained onto you, a hell unlike ANY the yakuza could put you through. And when this match is over.
He leans in, the sunnies sliding just far enough down his nose to see his eyes.
Galloway: You will all learn to fear the man known as God. The Right Hand Man. Alan, Fucking, Galloway.
Fin.