Post by Donzig on Jun 8, 2021 17:20:32 GMT -5
Donzig is walking through the back of the arena, his phone in hand as he growls from behind his mask. The interns and crew scramble to get out of his way, as Donzig is nothing if not mercurial. He shakes his head pausing, a hand lifting to press against the mask where the bridge of his nose should be. 'No, listen Moose, I don't think this Forbidden door shit is working out for Impact at all. Where is the boost in numbers? Where are the appearances of AEW stars, where is Impact fighting back against Omega's shit!'
Donzig shrugs, and mutters. 'Yeah, Moose. You look like Bobo the Fool. Talk to you later, man.' He hung up the phone, sighing before he shoved the phone into the pocket of his battered leather jacket. He scanned the hallway, then started forward again with a faint tsk. He turned to go, and nearly ran down Blake Samuels. Donzig stared at him from behind the mask, and Samuels lifted a mic as he just took the opportunity. After all, it was rare anyone got a moment with Donzig without going through Sinclair.
'Donzig! Word on the street is that you are nursing small injuries from the Anzac Cup and Call to Arms! As well as your recent pace in NPW, is there any truth to this?'
The masked face stared at him, and then Donzig growled. 'I am as healthy as a bull moose! You think the Scourge can be injured by mere mortals? Is that it?'
Blake Samuels blinked, and then smiled as he continued. 'No, not at all. But--'
'Your boy Donzig is not there at the fucking Moose Lodge 121, wrestling ham and eggers! No he is running around XHF doing real shit, eh? I am like the Night King, rolling in here on my undead moose, wreaking havoc!--' Donzig waved his hands, glaring at him from behind the mask as a few of the crew decided to be somewhere else.
'I thought it was an elk?' Samuels asked, and Donzig stared.
'Whatever!'
Blake Samuels shook his head, and he lifted the mic again. 'Are you and your partners ready for the Trios tournament?'
'You know what? Freakke is off doing whatever he does, Takaru is not answering my calls, and Sinclair is getting ready for her Championship match! But Donzig is ready, right?' Donzig pointed at himself. 'I am taking care of business! Much like Alexander Reynolds III, I am going to draw this band of outsiders together into an effective crew! I am not just here to do stage lighting!'
'Alexander Reynolds? Moose?' Blake blinked, and Donzig waved a hand as he continued his rant.
'When Riverdale high school is down by 3 touchdowns, and the championship is on the line? They don't give up, they rally behind Moose Mason! And he takes it fucking home, Blake! And that is what I am going to do at Trios! No one is going to catch Moose and Squirrel, you got it? Not on my fucking watch!' Donzig hammered a fist against his chest, yelling from behind his mask as Blake Samuels nodded rapidly. And then Donzig turned away, muttering under his breath as he stormed down the hallway. He was in a fury now, and he absently smoothed his beard below his mask.
Someone was blasting Eminem, and Donzig found himself absently singing along. '...Sometimes I wanna get on TV and just let loose; But can't, but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose...'
Suddenly he bumped into someone, and his head tilted as an intern stared at him in wide eyed dread. In fact there was an entire clump of them blocking the hallway, they looked panicked. And several of them were yelling, others were saying they should find Gus. Donzig snorted, waving a hand as he started to shove through them. 'There is a problem in catering, sir.' said one of them, trying to slow him down.
'You're goddamned right there is a problem in catering! If they didn't get my fucking crullers, I am going to beat one of them half way to death!' Donzig snapped angrily, and then he shoved through the door with a snarl. He jerked to a halt, and his eyes widened behind his mask as he saw a moose standing amidst the wreckage of catering. Food and tables were scattered everywhere, and the moose stared around patiently as it chewed. Every so often it would take a shuffling step, lowering it's huge head before it would turn away from the crowd with indifference.
Donzig tilted his head, and then shook it in disgust. 'I thought moose were extinct in the Maritimes.'
Everyone blinked at him, and then he turned to walk off with a final angry wave of his hand. 'And still no fucking crullers.'
Donzig shrugs, and mutters. 'Yeah, Moose. You look like Bobo the Fool. Talk to you later, man.' He hung up the phone, sighing before he shoved the phone into the pocket of his battered leather jacket. He scanned the hallway, then started forward again with a faint tsk. He turned to go, and nearly ran down Blake Samuels. Donzig stared at him from behind the mask, and Samuels lifted a mic as he just took the opportunity. After all, it was rare anyone got a moment with Donzig without going through Sinclair.
'Donzig! Word on the street is that you are nursing small injuries from the Anzac Cup and Call to Arms! As well as your recent pace in NPW, is there any truth to this?'
The masked face stared at him, and then Donzig growled. 'I am as healthy as a bull moose! You think the Scourge can be injured by mere mortals? Is that it?'
Blake Samuels blinked, and then smiled as he continued. 'No, not at all. But--'
'Your boy Donzig is not there at the fucking Moose Lodge 121, wrestling ham and eggers! No he is running around XHF doing real shit, eh? I am like the Night King, rolling in here on my undead moose, wreaking havoc!--' Donzig waved his hands, glaring at him from behind the mask as a few of the crew decided to be somewhere else.
'I thought it was an elk?' Samuels asked, and Donzig stared.
'Whatever!'
Blake Samuels shook his head, and he lifted the mic again. 'Are you and your partners ready for the Trios tournament?'
'You know what? Freakke is off doing whatever he does, Takaru is not answering my calls, and Sinclair is getting ready for her Championship match! But Donzig is ready, right?' Donzig pointed at himself. 'I am taking care of business! Much like Alexander Reynolds III, I am going to draw this band of outsiders together into an effective crew! I am not just here to do stage lighting!'
'Alexander Reynolds? Moose?' Blake blinked, and Donzig waved a hand as he continued his rant.
'When Riverdale high school is down by 3 touchdowns, and the championship is on the line? They don't give up, they rally behind Moose Mason! And he takes it fucking home, Blake! And that is what I am going to do at Trios! No one is going to catch Moose and Squirrel, you got it? Not on my fucking watch!' Donzig hammered a fist against his chest, yelling from behind his mask as Blake Samuels nodded rapidly. And then Donzig turned away, muttering under his breath as he stormed down the hallway. He was in a fury now, and he absently smoothed his beard below his mask.
Someone was blasting Eminem, and Donzig found himself absently singing along. '...Sometimes I wanna get on TV and just let loose; But can't, but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose...'
Suddenly he bumped into someone, and his head tilted as an intern stared at him in wide eyed dread. In fact there was an entire clump of them blocking the hallway, they looked panicked. And several of them were yelling, others were saying they should find Gus. Donzig snorted, waving a hand as he started to shove through them. 'There is a problem in catering, sir.' said one of them, trying to slow him down.
'You're goddamned right there is a problem in catering! If they didn't get my fucking crullers, I am going to beat one of them half way to death!' Donzig snapped angrily, and then he shoved through the door with a snarl. He jerked to a halt, and his eyes widened behind his mask as he saw a moose standing amidst the wreckage of catering. Food and tables were scattered everywhere, and the moose stared around patiently as it chewed. Every so often it would take a shuffling step, lowering it's huge head before it would turn away from the crowd with indifference.
Donzig tilted his head, and then shook it in disgust. 'I thought moose were extinct in the Maritimes.'
Everyone blinked at him, and then he turned to walk off with a final angry wave of his hand. 'And still no fucking crullers.'
