Post by The King on Nov 26, 2020 13:58:40 GMT -5
The camera would follow a journalist as she walked up to the front doors of a Louisiana gym. A ripped Indian man with deep black aviators and a sweaty grey tank top would exit, almost surprised by the journalist who shouted his name.
Mr. Bollywood! Mr. Bollywood!
He would turn to face her, his eyes under them deep shades glancing at the camera.
We haven't heard from you since Ascendency, what's been keeping you so quiet?
Bollywood would chuckle, placing a hand on the journalists shoulder. He would point at the camera.
Well you see lady, what's the point in words when they end up falling on the wrong ears. Sure, I can stand here for hours on end and tell you what I'm going to do to my opponent at Homecoming, how I'm going to beat him and subsequently take that NLW Heavyweight Championship - but that only works for when you can get into your opponents head, when they can listen and embody everything little thing that you say in the hopes that it'll bring them down.
So tell me, ...
Bollywood would raise an eyebrow.
--Larissa.
--Larissa, how do you use your words effectively against a man that has two pairs of ears, one for when he's sane, and the other for when he's batshit crazy?
Larissa would be struggling to think of a suitable answer.
I'll tell ya, you don't. Words are useless in this equation. Instead, you beat him with wrestling.
I say one thing, the wrong set of ears hear it, it goes unnoticed, and vica versa. Mind games don't work on the mentally broken. By playing mind games with him I myself would become lost, just like he is in the brain - and I have no doubt that's why they call him Maze to begin with: because if you enter that maze-like mind of his, you're not getting out again. You're trapped in there and once you're there, thats when your most vulnerable. By attempting to play mind games with him you allow yourself to stoop to his level of sanity, and when you're finally messing with his head - he's already got inside yours and its too late. You're done for.
He would lower his visors.
That is why I've been so quiet. It's because my words are this man's weapon - and you can be damned I'm not allowing him to take aim come November the 28th.
With that Bollywood would sling his gym-bag back over his shoulder and begin walking away.
Well there you have it folks, straight from the mouth of Bollywood himself!
---AND CUT!
Henry Hickenbottom would pop out from behind a trash can, clapping. Kashmir would be surprised at the appearance of his friend.
Henry?!
That was fucking brilliant, Kash!
Kashmir would eye-up the trash can, then turn back to Larissa and the camera - pointing.
This was all you?!
Hell yeah it was. I hired them.
--But I thought we agreed to lay-low for the show, no promos--
--No mind games, Kash. No mind games. This isn't mind games, it's the damn introduction for your upcoming book 'How I became the first ever NLW Heavyweight Champion'! Honestly man, that was perfectly said! The fans are gonna love it. Heck, the network execs are gonna love it too.
--What's the network executives got to do with it?
Henry would scratch his head, looking to the floor.
--Well, you know... Uh. Well they asked for a video from you, to hype up the match. I initially thought we could get away with laying low, what with focusing primarily on your ability in the ring - but they expect a few words ---and by staging it as an interview, we got the best damn promo we could have ever asked for. So congrats man! You've made a lot of people happy today.
Well I guess all that needs to be said is thank you, Henry.
It's all good man--
--No honestly, mate. I mean it.
Oh?
You've brought me into this crazy industry. You've shown me the ropes. You've discovered a whole new hobby for me. Whenever I have no acting gigs, I've always got professional wrestling to keep me occupied and for that I'll always be grateful.
Henry would look a bit dejected at that comment. Jealousy at the industry he was fired from, perhaps? Annoyed at the fact that Kash didn't see wrestling as his main job? None-the-less he would let off a smile, patting Kashmir on the shoulder.
---Well now that you're, uh, blackballed from Bollywood you can be the best damn NLW Heavyweight Champion in history.
--Well that's the thing, Henry. I'm no longer blackballed.
Henry would choke on his own tongue.
You're not?!
--Fortunately not.
Rashad, you know, my former agent - well just the other day he was arrested for... well for some pretty illegal stuff. We won't get into it, but lets just say he's officially out of the industry --and I'm free to return whenever.
Henry's nose would flare.
That-- That's...
Henry's cheeks would turn red.
--Great! Awesome man!
Say, you're a pretty good actor yourself - what with all that Director of Doom stuff. I'm sure if Curse of the Werewrestler does well I can secure you some gigs.
Henry's eyes would crease, the smile becoming wider - faker.
Oh really?! That would be brilliant.
Yeah man!
Kashmir would notice the slight awkwardness from Henry.
Of course, this doesn't mean I'll be slowing down with NLW anytime soon. You can be sure I'm taking that title and defending it through hell and back. I am Mr. Bollywood just as much as I am Kashmir Singh, and nothing's ever going to change that, Henry. Mark my words.
---
From Mukesh Chhabra - Bollywood's #1 Agent.