Post by John Cavanagh on Nov 19, 2020 19:03:09 GMT -5
The faint howl of wind is heard as the dying leaves of the American Northeast rustle about in the cool November breeze. A silhouette of a man can be seen leaning up against what appears to be a brick wall. The broad shouldered man is covered by darkness--the fact that he is draped in black clothing doesn't assist the situation whatsoever. The man's head tilts up as the face of John Cavanagh is exposed to the camera, while Cavanagh can't be seen perfectly his pale Irish skin most definitely helps the situation. He stood there with a smirk before he began to speak.
So that's it, huh? That's what the first round of the Lethal Lottery tournament had to offer? Joe Ghaven and Adrian King...I don't know if what both of their excuses will be put it seems pretty clear to me that Brad Swann and I set ourselves a part from a certain portion of the NPW locker room. For the "monster" that this Joe Ghaven was meant to be, he wasn't all that big, strong and scary now was he? And Adrian King--the man that I knew previously, the guy I figured would be the bigger challenge in the match just due to his pedigree, I hate to be blunt kid but I'm pretty sure they could hear you screaming for the bell to ring in that Celtic Deathlock all the way back down in Jersey City where we used to share a locker room. Brad Swann, my partner, I know we saw eye to eye during the match--and that was pretty damn critical to our success--but...you're welcome. You're welcome that I took that miserable little runt Adrian King and put him out of his god damned misery! You're welcome that, in the end, your ticket to the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal was punched not by your own hand but by the hand of "The One Man Dynasty" John Cavanagh! Now, it may seem like it but I'm not trying to take all of the credit--no, no that would be asinine of me now wouldn't it? You win as a team...it was a tag team match after all. Not only that Brad, but it seems like we will be in a little Trios action at the second chance show...guess we will have to continue to try and gel, try to coexist as one functioning unit in order to bringer the winner's portion of the purse home with Lord Dominicus next time around.
Cavanagh pauses for a moment while he gathers his thoughts. He pondered momentarily, thinking about where he had most recently been...and where he was planning on going now that he was north of the border in the land of the maple leafs. John was accustomed to wrestling in the States and seeing baseball stadiums in all of the different cities he toured, now instead of seeing the beauty of baseball stadiums and their well kept infields and outfields--he drives passed arenas that turn their floors to ice cubes for hockey games. Gone are the days of seeing the red, white and blue...gone are the thirteen stripes and fifty stars flying in front of the arenas he called "work" that day, now he was constantly greeted by red and white with a maple leaf. That didn't bother him, it was just something he had to grow accustomed to--what did bother him was waiting to get to where he wanted to be. He didn't want to have to wait through some tournament to be coronated the king of another promotion, he wanted it now.
I hope every other team that qualified at the last two shows are satisfied with where they ended up and happy with the odds they currently hold to become the first North American Double Crown Champion because regardless of what two sacks of shit get the sympathy entrances in the battle royal--no one has better odds to walk home the champ than this evil, miserable prick you see in front of the camera. I'm not the one to play with, I'm not the one to take lightly and I am most definitely not the one who will be intimidated by any of you in that locker room. But, I will tell you exactly who I am. I am the man who made Adrian King squirm and cry like a child, I am the man who made sure his team advanced to the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal, I am the man who will extract a little taste of revenge on someone from my past at the second chance show and I am the man who will hoist the NPW North American Double Crown Championship high in the air at the end of that battle royal. There I go again, making all sorts of friends with the way I word things.
Cavanagh displays a slight smirk that creeps up the left side of his face as the scene cuts to static.
So that's it, huh? That's what the first round of the Lethal Lottery tournament had to offer? Joe Ghaven and Adrian King...I don't know if what both of their excuses will be put it seems pretty clear to me that Brad Swann and I set ourselves a part from a certain portion of the NPW locker room. For the "monster" that this Joe Ghaven was meant to be, he wasn't all that big, strong and scary now was he? And Adrian King--the man that I knew previously, the guy I figured would be the bigger challenge in the match just due to his pedigree, I hate to be blunt kid but I'm pretty sure they could hear you screaming for the bell to ring in that Celtic Deathlock all the way back down in Jersey City where we used to share a locker room. Brad Swann, my partner, I know we saw eye to eye during the match--and that was pretty damn critical to our success--but...you're welcome. You're welcome that I took that miserable little runt Adrian King and put him out of his god damned misery! You're welcome that, in the end, your ticket to the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal was punched not by your own hand but by the hand of "The One Man Dynasty" John Cavanagh! Now, it may seem like it but I'm not trying to take all of the credit--no, no that would be asinine of me now wouldn't it? You win as a team...it was a tag team match after all. Not only that Brad, but it seems like we will be in a little Trios action at the second chance show...guess we will have to continue to try and gel, try to coexist as one functioning unit in order to bringer the winner's portion of the purse home with Lord Dominicus next time around.
Cavanagh pauses for a moment while he gathers his thoughts. He pondered momentarily, thinking about where he had most recently been...and where he was planning on going now that he was north of the border in the land of the maple leafs. John was accustomed to wrestling in the States and seeing baseball stadiums in all of the different cities he toured, now instead of seeing the beauty of baseball stadiums and their well kept infields and outfields--he drives passed arenas that turn their floors to ice cubes for hockey games. Gone are the days of seeing the red, white and blue...gone are the thirteen stripes and fifty stars flying in front of the arenas he called "work" that day, now he was constantly greeted by red and white with a maple leaf. That didn't bother him, it was just something he had to grow accustomed to--what did bother him was waiting to get to where he wanted to be. He didn't want to have to wait through some tournament to be coronated the king of another promotion, he wanted it now.
I hope every other team that qualified at the last two shows are satisfied with where they ended up and happy with the odds they currently hold to become the first North American Double Crown Champion because regardless of what two sacks of shit get the sympathy entrances in the battle royal--no one has better odds to walk home the champ than this evil, miserable prick you see in front of the camera. I'm not the one to play with, I'm not the one to take lightly and I am most definitely not the one who will be intimidated by any of you in that locker room. But, I will tell you exactly who I am. I am the man who made Adrian King squirm and cry like a child, I am the man who made sure his team advanced to the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal, I am the man who will extract a little taste of revenge on someone from my past at the second chance show and I am the man who will hoist the NPW North American Double Crown Championship high in the air at the end of that battle royal. There I go again, making all sorts of friends with the way I word things.
Cavanagh displays a slight smirk that creeps up the left side of his face as the scene cuts to static.
