Post by Mav. on Oct 10, 2020 2:34:25 GMT -5
● REC | KidzBop Studios
The lights in the studio slowly come to life, bringing the camera’s lens and showing the bright and colorful set filled with the pink, yellow, baby blue, and lime green. The music filling the speakers of the KidzBop songs, beginning with their cover of The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights”- a slim figure in a dark suit walks into the set of where most of the music videos begin. That slim figure being The Prince of Thieves, and of OWA itself, as he scans the area around him and his facial expression giving off a disgust vibe to it.
“Please tell me this is some sort of fucking joke, right?”
A voice comes from behind the camera.
“Nah mate, you got this set up perfectly!”
“How in the hell did you get this place rented out anyway?”
There’s a pause of silence.
“I know my ways.”
“I hate you.”
Maverick outs of the shot for a few moments and then walks back into the shot with a chair in his hands, placing it down in the middle of the set before taking a seat right in between the set’s walls. One half being pink and the other being baby blue. There’s a disgusting demeanor resting on his face as he crosses his arms, resting back and looking into the camera’s lens as it zooms in closer to get Maverick’s shoulders and head into the frame.
“You can’t tell me I wasn’t right about putting Udy down and out for good, because I did it and now he’s gone. Done and fucking dusted. Now he’s hanging around with Shaker fucking Jones of all people. When I walked into that match, I felt fucking disgusted being put with someone like that after walking out of a fucking bloodbath with Kenny Drake- stood toe to toe with the fucking devil and made sure he knew who the fuck I was. And they gave me The Infernal Beast. They gave me The Infernal Beast. Knowing that there’s a future Tag Team Championship match soon, and seeing a possible member of The Ashes of The Wake leave soon- I’m wondering how this will impact things.”
Maverick sighed as he adjusts himself on the chair.
“Because I know there’ll be a partner in my corner, but I want to know if the man that’ll be there for me will be the one I can put faith to. I want to know if someone I can put trust into will be there for me. If I cannot have that, then why would I bother? So this is what I’m trying to do, testing the waters with someone like Abholos. That man- hell, not even a fucking man, a godforsaken freak and force of nature- is something that is feared unlike anyone else. There’s been many that have come into OWA and think about how they’re the top shit and when they actually get into a match, they’re put down within a minute or two. Abholos? You’re in the ring with him, and you’re shitting whole fucking bricks to build yourself a house in the hopes that the big bad wolf won’t blow the fucking thing down.”
A chuckle comes from The Prince.
“So to see that my opponents are Jeff X and Ryo Sakazaki, I have no other way to react but to fucking laugh. I’m being honest, it’s a child’s play seeing both of you trying to come to face us after everything that happened. You know why? Because both of you have faced The Ashes before in Tag Team competition and did nothing with it, didn’t come close to even winning, and even in singles matches- The Frontline is nothing more than weak shit, the only thing holding you lot up there is Arata Asakura, the fucking ace of this brand. Jeff X thinks he’s tough as shit because he beat Moongoose McQueen for the title, but there’s a reminder that he lost the title not a couple of moments later. Ryo is just… Fuck man, he’s just there. Like, I don’t know what Ryo is doing there, to begin with.
The Ashes were handpicked by Havoc to be apart- well, maybe not all of them- but he picked the best of the best. Abholos, myself, Knight- okay, maybe not, but you get my point at this rate. But why am I here? Why the fuck am I even around here in a studio set for a children’s YouTube channel? Because The Frontline is nothing more than fucking childish, think about it for a second there, you’re all fucking childish. Running around doing your little meetings in your treehouse-like room as if you’re going to toughen them up. Jeff is the supposed leader of this Frontline but that honor should go to fucking Asakura because he’s got more balls than you, Jeff. He’s got more toughness and intrigue than you might ever have.”
The smile on the face of Maverick gets wider and more twisted and tormented than before.
“Arata is a machine, he’s a Golden Dragon, he’s the Ace of OWA in itself. You, Jeff? You’re just some drunkard that drives Harley Davidsons or Choppers or whatever fucking motorcycles. I mean, that’s interesting to a redneck, but what does that make me think about you, Jeff?”
Maverick sighed. He brought his hands through his hair, pushing it the whole way back and then letting go.
“You were the hero that OWA needed and wanted and you became someone that the fans quickly wanted to be that man. You were going to be that person that they can cheer on and held up high saying that is our hero, but you know what you’ve become every time you’ve reached the top of the mountain- A failure. And even when you’ve succeeded, you fall back down the mountain because that’s what you’re always going to do, Jeff. You’re only better for being a man to drink and drink and fucking drink some more-”
A green screen rolls in behind Maverick by the mystery assailant that was behind the camera.
“-even then, Jeff. You fail at keeping a steady fucking relationship! Take a look at Presley Dawn, for example. Your current fling and one you’re supporting very well, OWT’s finest bird and you’re the one shagging her. But you know what makes it even disturbing? You got Beyonce as a side piece, you hoe. You’re letting yourself be a fucking whore to not only Presley who is as real as anything can get you. But you’ve got Beyonce wrapped around your finger as if she doesn’t have children to herself and is shagging Jay-Z. You’re ‘shagging’ Jay-Z’s wife but got a piece of fucking eye candy right there. How are you going to do that when it’s easy for him to pull up and run your shit.”
Maverick makes handgun gestures to the camera with a cocky smile on his face.
“Honestly, I cannot wait for The Story of Jeff X to drop in a couple of weeks. Light beer, dark beer, faux beer, real beer- Just assuming the lyrics of the song, and also I can’t really say that other word. But you’re not the one fucking, Jeff, at least from what I’ve seen.”
Maverick laughs as a picture pop up on the green screen-
-- [CENSORED DUE TO THE XHF NETWORK GUIDELINES] --
-and the smile goes from ear to ear.
“And I guess you’re going to talk shit about how Becks and I broke up- since, on the subjects of relationships and I know you’re going to use it against me in some sort of way and to be honest, I don’t give a shit because I’m on that MGTOW vibe. Men Getting Their Own Way, right? It doesn’t fucking matter, I don’t fucking care what you speak up about but you bring your personal life to the shows, to the live feeds that go out there nationwide or even internationally. But guess what, Jeff, I don’t fucking care nor will I ever fucking care. Because you are full of fucking shit, always have been full of fucking shit, and will always be full of fucking shit. You never even deserved to be in the position you’re in right now, and that’s why you’re not even in the fucking World Title match in the Main Event!”
He lets out a hysterical laugh that echoes throughout the studios. Maverick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper he holds with both fingers.
“Get in your fucking head, you drunken useless vandal. You’re not worth shit, and you’re so fucking overhyped that it’s absolutely ridiculous! When it’s all said and done, give this note to Presley when you’re fucking her again and make her fucking read it because she can finally open her eyes and see what sort of hypocritical mutt you are, fucking cunt.”
Maverick throws the note onto the ground and out of the shot.
“And onto your partner, Jeff, that… guy… who’s just there and in the background doing… something? Fuck sake, man, what is Ryo Sakazaki doing in the Frontline? You’ve got Michael Bishop, you’ve got Jeff X, you’ve got Arata Asakura… and then there’s this guy. Who the fuck is that guy? You’re just fucking there and it irks me because it’s like going to a five-star restaurant and then getting a mediocre two star like food. Do you know how frustrating it is to have to carry around dead weight, Ryo? Of course not, because you are the dead fucking weight and you’d NEVER get to understand that.”
Maverick shook his head and sighed.
“Ryo, you are not worth anyone’s fucking time. You’re in this war, and you’re going to become a fucking casualty of war- being beaten up, bruised, and battered to shit until people forget about you and guess what, Ryo, nobody fucking remembers you. Nobody ever talks about Ryo because of the names you’ve had on that team. You’re a face in the crowd of names, a face that nobody ever tends to recognize until they’re told who exactly you are and when they know who you are- instant fucking forgetting about who you are. Sick of your shit, you’re just some person from Sleepy Hollow that is just fucking there. Like a fucking mannequin, like a fucking stick figure, like a statue made of fucking stone.”
Maverick gives a simple shrug of his shoulders.
“When you finally give yourself a bit of fucking flavor, then come back to me and give me a reason to pay close attention to you. Because right now, The Ashes of The Wake are stronger than fucking ever. They are stronger than anyone or any fucking faction there ever fucking has existed. There is always going to be a storm hovering over the Kingdom roster and that cloud belongs to The Ashes. We are The Ashes of The fucking Wake, we are the oncoming storm that’ll never ever leave, and we are finally awoken.”
He points directly to the camera’s lens.
“This is just the beginning, and this is where you’ll finally meet your end, Frontline. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”
Maverick kicks the chair back and knocks over the green screen before walking off and out of the shot. The final shot we see is the note that Maverick threw to the ground before the cameras cut to black.
“Please tell me this is some sort of fucking joke, right?”
A voice comes from behind the camera.
“Nah mate, you got this set up perfectly!”
“How in the hell did you get this place rented out anyway?”
There’s a pause of silence.
“I know my ways.”
“I hate you.”
Maverick outs of the shot for a few moments and then walks back into the shot with a chair in his hands, placing it down in the middle of the set before taking a seat right in between the set’s walls. One half being pink and the other being baby blue. There’s a disgusting demeanor resting on his face as he crosses his arms, resting back and looking into the camera’s lens as it zooms in closer to get Maverick’s shoulders and head into the frame.
“You can’t tell me I wasn’t right about putting Udy down and out for good, because I did it and now he’s gone. Done and fucking dusted. Now he’s hanging around with Shaker fucking Jones of all people. When I walked into that match, I felt fucking disgusted being put with someone like that after walking out of a fucking bloodbath with Kenny Drake- stood toe to toe with the fucking devil and made sure he knew who the fuck I was. And they gave me The Infernal Beast. They gave me The Infernal Beast. Knowing that there’s a future Tag Team Championship match soon, and seeing a possible member of The Ashes of The Wake leave soon- I’m wondering how this will impact things.”
Maverick sighed as he adjusts himself on the chair.
“Because I know there’ll be a partner in my corner, but I want to know if the man that’ll be there for me will be the one I can put faith to. I want to know if someone I can put trust into will be there for me. If I cannot have that, then why would I bother? So this is what I’m trying to do, testing the waters with someone like Abholos. That man- hell, not even a fucking man, a godforsaken freak and force of nature- is something that is feared unlike anyone else. There’s been many that have come into OWA and think about how they’re the top shit and when they actually get into a match, they’re put down within a minute or two. Abholos? You’re in the ring with him, and you’re shitting whole fucking bricks to build yourself a house in the hopes that the big bad wolf won’t blow the fucking thing down.”
A chuckle comes from The Prince.
“So to see that my opponents are Jeff X and Ryo Sakazaki, I have no other way to react but to fucking laugh. I’m being honest, it’s a child’s play seeing both of you trying to come to face us after everything that happened. You know why? Because both of you have faced The Ashes before in Tag Team competition and did nothing with it, didn’t come close to even winning, and even in singles matches- The Frontline is nothing more than weak shit, the only thing holding you lot up there is Arata Asakura, the fucking ace of this brand. Jeff X thinks he’s tough as shit because he beat Moongoose McQueen for the title, but there’s a reminder that he lost the title not a couple of moments later. Ryo is just… Fuck man, he’s just there. Like, I don’t know what Ryo is doing there, to begin with.
The Ashes were handpicked by Havoc to be apart- well, maybe not all of them- but he picked the best of the best. Abholos, myself, Knight- okay, maybe not, but you get my point at this rate. But why am I here? Why the fuck am I even around here in a studio set for a children’s YouTube channel? Because The Frontline is nothing more than fucking childish, think about it for a second there, you’re all fucking childish. Running around doing your little meetings in your treehouse-like room as if you’re going to toughen them up. Jeff is the supposed leader of this Frontline but that honor should go to fucking Asakura because he’s got more balls than you, Jeff. He’s got more toughness and intrigue than you might ever have.”
The smile on the face of Maverick gets wider and more twisted and tormented than before.
“Arata is a machine, he’s a Golden Dragon, he’s the Ace of OWA in itself. You, Jeff? You’re just some drunkard that drives Harley Davidsons or Choppers or whatever fucking motorcycles. I mean, that’s interesting to a redneck, but what does that make me think about you, Jeff?”
Maverick sighed. He brought his hands through his hair, pushing it the whole way back and then letting go.
“You were the hero that OWA needed and wanted and you became someone that the fans quickly wanted to be that man. You were going to be that person that they can cheer on and held up high saying that is our hero, but you know what you’ve become every time you’ve reached the top of the mountain- A failure. And even when you’ve succeeded, you fall back down the mountain because that’s what you’re always going to do, Jeff. You’re only better for being a man to drink and drink and fucking drink some more-”
A green screen rolls in behind Maverick by the mystery assailant that was behind the camera.
“-even then, Jeff. You fail at keeping a steady fucking relationship! Take a look at Presley Dawn, for example. Your current fling and one you’re supporting very well, OWT’s finest bird and you’re the one shagging her. But you know what makes it even disturbing? You got Beyonce as a side piece, you hoe. You’re letting yourself be a fucking whore to not only Presley who is as real as anything can get you. But you’ve got Beyonce wrapped around your finger as if she doesn’t have children to herself and is shagging Jay-Z. You’re ‘shagging’ Jay-Z’s wife but got a piece of fucking eye candy right there. How are you going to do that when it’s easy for him to pull up and run your shit.”
Maverick makes handgun gestures to the camera with a cocky smile on his face.
“Honestly, I cannot wait for The Story of Jeff X to drop in a couple of weeks. Light beer, dark beer, faux beer, real beer- Just assuming the lyrics of the song, and also I can’t really say that other word. But you’re not the one fucking, Jeff, at least from what I’ve seen.”
Maverick laughs as a picture pop up on the green screen-
-- [CENSORED DUE TO THE XHF NETWORK GUIDELINES] --
-and the smile goes from ear to ear.
“And I guess you’re going to talk shit about how Becks and I broke up- since, on the subjects of relationships and I know you’re going to use it against me in some sort of way and to be honest, I don’t give a shit because I’m on that MGTOW vibe. Men Getting Their Own Way, right? It doesn’t fucking matter, I don’t fucking care what you speak up about but you bring your personal life to the shows, to the live feeds that go out there nationwide or even internationally. But guess what, Jeff, I don’t fucking care nor will I ever fucking care. Because you are full of fucking shit, always have been full of fucking shit, and will always be full of fucking shit. You never even deserved to be in the position you’re in right now, and that’s why you’re not even in the fucking World Title match in the Main Event!”
He lets out a hysterical laugh that echoes throughout the studios. Maverick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper he holds with both fingers.
“Get in your fucking head, you drunken useless vandal. You’re not worth shit, and you’re so fucking overhyped that it’s absolutely ridiculous! When it’s all said and done, give this note to Presley when you’re fucking her again and make her fucking read it because she can finally open her eyes and see what sort of hypocritical mutt you are, fucking cunt.”
Maverick throws the note onto the ground and out of the shot.
“And onto your partner, Jeff, that… guy… who’s just there and in the background doing… something? Fuck sake, man, what is Ryo Sakazaki doing in the Frontline? You’ve got Michael Bishop, you’ve got Jeff X, you’ve got Arata Asakura… and then there’s this guy. Who the fuck is that guy? You’re just fucking there and it irks me because it’s like going to a five-star restaurant and then getting a mediocre two star like food. Do you know how frustrating it is to have to carry around dead weight, Ryo? Of course not, because you are the dead fucking weight and you’d NEVER get to understand that.”
Maverick shook his head and sighed.
“Ryo, you are not worth anyone’s fucking time. You’re in this war, and you’re going to become a fucking casualty of war- being beaten up, bruised, and battered to shit until people forget about you and guess what, Ryo, nobody fucking remembers you. Nobody ever talks about Ryo because of the names you’ve had on that team. You’re a face in the crowd of names, a face that nobody ever tends to recognize until they’re told who exactly you are and when they know who you are- instant fucking forgetting about who you are. Sick of your shit, you’re just some person from Sleepy Hollow that is just fucking there. Like a fucking mannequin, like a fucking stick figure, like a statue made of fucking stone.”
Maverick gives a simple shrug of his shoulders.
“When you finally give yourself a bit of fucking flavor, then come back to me and give me a reason to pay close attention to you. Because right now, The Ashes of The Wake are stronger than fucking ever. They are stronger than anyone or any fucking faction there ever fucking has existed. There is always going to be a storm hovering over the Kingdom roster and that cloud belongs to The Ashes. We are The Ashes of The fucking Wake, we are the oncoming storm that’ll never ever leave, and we are finally awoken.”
He points directly to the camera’s lens.
“This is just the beginning, and this is where you’ll finally meet your end, Frontline. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”
Maverick kicks the chair back and knocks over the green screen before walking off and out of the shot. The final shot we see is the note that Maverick threw to the ground before the cameras cut to black.