Post by Jesse Jamester on Jul 29, 2021 23:11:20 GMT -5
“A King has no equal… he commands respect. If you want to earn it, do so on the battlefield.”
A gnarly raspy voice says these words as the camera zooms out from the lips speaking to unveil the ‘King of Violence’ and ‘Canadian Nightmare’ Jesse Jamester. The black scaly prehistoric style mask he had captivated audiences with resting on his face. A piercing cold blue stare off to the right of the camera, as his voice lingered with the final words of the final sentence.
“Keith Williams…”
A sniffle is heard, as the hand rises up to put a finger across his lips.
“Simmer down Keith. You’re showing your ass again. See, I know your ego has gotten the best of you in the past Mister Williams. While you spit that heinous propaganda that you, Keith Williams feels like I, Jesse, have big dogged him and went off to XHF to ‘prove myself’. Thinking I am turning a cold shoulder to the olive branch you once offered; yeah, I can see where you would think that. However, I also see the world in colors other than black and white. People don’t always fall into one category or the other. There is also the gray area, and I love to flirt with it, making a home where most people feel uncomfortable. Leave them guessing.”
Pulling the camera from being directly on his face to an arms length away; the viewers see Jesse Jamester’s full body, draped in a black and royal purple robe, the label a shiny black scaly material, and his chest and stomach showing as he stands up.
“I knew that by joining the ReVenants back when I stopped by SWAT for a cup of coffee, it would never have worked. With the Syndicate, I may have been looked at as the third wheel, but I was far from it. Eric Dane played the mouthpiece. Scott Steel was the muscle. I was the meticulous mastermind, pulling the strings while I waited for my opportunity. You saw how that played out.”
Cracking his knuckles visibly in front of the camera, the popping of the bone was as loud as if you were sitting in the same room with the Canadian Nightmare.
“With you and the ReVenants, I know that you would never play a backseat role to me. Not a chance in hell! That’s not your nature Keith. No matter what you try and say about it, we both know we’re two personalities that don’t want to be THAT guy. Just look at Oxford Osland, he’s still over in SWAT, and he’s thriving. Coincidence? Or maybe it’s the right timing, who knows. Either way, Keith Williams knows he’s the Alpha, and everyone follows his lead. Right Keith?”
A slight smile is shed from the pursed lips that are visible just barely under the hagrid dark brown beard, which is the only part of Jesse’s mask that doesn’t cover his face.
“What you have carved out for your career Keith, that is an impressive resume. (Claps as he nods his head) Don’t get the wrong impression here, I will never bat an eye at the accomplishments of Keith Williams in the XHF. That’s a rookie mistake. One I that many have fallen victim to. No, no Keith, I will give you your just due, but the attention you’re seeking -- it’s misguided. You have my attention, but the man you’re facing isn’t the same man who was in SWAT nearly a year ago.”
Pushing the robe off his shoulders, Jesse reveals the scars from his GUNS Birthday Bash now healed, but still fresh to the naked eye. Scars from barbed wire, tables, glass, and other weapons of destruction that Dylan Black and Spike Kane used to try and conquer the Canadian Nightmare, and came up short. The torso of Jesse Jamester was littered with tattoos, scars, and markings of wars he had been through in his twenty-five years in the wrestling industry.
“Using Eron Hunter as a message, a statement -- that’s something I would do Keith. Unlike a lot of the men who occupy a roster spot in NPW, claiming they are the best thing since maple syrup, I know you -- Keith Williams is able to back it up. Coming at a man like myself, preparing to leave a piece of yourself in that ring as a sacrifice for the victory… You are, and I will make sure I take my pound of flesh, not for Eron, but for your arrogance.”
Turning to the side, Jesse is looking at something off camera that is now directly in front of him. He rolls his neck from side to side, cracking it in the process.
“I know you’re willing to do whatever it takes to conquer the King of Violence. I am very aware that Keith Williams is the dirtiest motherfucka’ in this game right now, bar none. Your mind games, your mouth on the mic, hell even the group you run with. None of you give a damn about winning or losing - the ReVs want to be noticed and make a mockery of everything that is in their way! That’s where I draw my line. When the ReVenants came to my house and you pissed on my rug… that doesn’t go unpunished Keith! ”
Turning the camera towards the wall, we see four photos of the ReVenants, Neo James Carner, Rob Garcia, Oxford Osland and Keith Williams. Each one pinned to a cork board, with strings to each man, Keith at the top.
“August on the Atlantic III, I’m going to show Keith Williams why he should have stayed in his lane and kept his mouth shut!”
Turning to the camera, face zoom.
“Bring the ReVs, buy them front row seats to The Great White Terror versus the King of Violence! They will witness what a real leader looks like. Before the night is over, they will witness me paint the canvas with my masterpiece, The Great Tragedy of Keith Williams.”
Camera dims.
A gnarly raspy voice says these words as the camera zooms out from the lips speaking to unveil the ‘King of Violence’ and ‘Canadian Nightmare’ Jesse Jamester. The black scaly prehistoric style mask he had captivated audiences with resting on his face. A piercing cold blue stare off to the right of the camera, as his voice lingered with the final words of the final sentence.
“Keith Williams…”
A sniffle is heard, as the hand rises up to put a finger across his lips.
“Simmer down Keith. You’re showing your ass again. See, I know your ego has gotten the best of you in the past Mister Williams. While you spit that heinous propaganda that you, Keith Williams feels like I, Jesse, have big dogged him and went off to XHF to ‘prove myself’. Thinking I am turning a cold shoulder to the olive branch you once offered; yeah, I can see where you would think that. However, I also see the world in colors other than black and white. People don’t always fall into one category or the other. There is also the gray area, and I love to flirt with it, making a home where most people feel uncomfortable. Leave them guessing.”
Pulling the camera from being directly on his face to an arms length away; the viewers see Jesse Jamester’s full body, draped in a black and royal purple robe, the label a shiny black scaly material, and his chest and stomach showing as he stands up.
“I knew that by joining the ReVenants back when I stopped by SWAT for a cup of coffee, it would never have worked. With the Syndicate, I may have been looked at as the third wheel, but I was far from it. Eric Dane played the mouthpiece. Scott Steel was the muscle. I was the meticulous mastermind, pulling the strings while I waited for my opportunity. You saw how that played out.”
Cracking his knuckles visibly in front of the camera, the popping of the bone was as loud as if you were sitting in the same room with the Canadian Nightmare.
“With you and the ReVenants, I know that you would never play a backseat role to me. Not a chance in hell! That’s not your nature Keith. No matter what you try and say about it, we both know we’re two personalities that don’t want to be THAT guy. Just look at Oxford Osland, he’s still over in SWAT, and he’s thriving. Coincidence? Or maybe it’s the right timing, who knows. Either way, Keith Williams knows he’s the Alpha, and everyone follows his lead. Right Keith?”
A slight smile is shed from the pursed lips that are visible just barely under the hagrid dark brown beard, which is the only part of Jesse’s mask that doesn’t cover his face.
“What you have carved out for your career Keith, that is an impressive resume. (Claps as he nods his head) Don’t get the wrong impression here, I will never bat an eye at the accomplishments of Keith Williams in the XHF. That’s a rookie mistake. One I that many have fallen victim to. No, no Keith, I will give you your just due, but the attention you’re seeking -- it’s misguided. You have my attention, but the man you’re facing isn’t the same man who was in SWAT nearly a year ago.”
Pushing the robe off his shoulders, Jesse reveals the scars from his GUNS Birthday Bash now healed, but still fresh to the naked eye. Scars from barbed wire, tables, glass, and other weapons of destruction that Dylan Black and Spike Kane used to try and conquer the Canadian Nightmare, and came up short. The torso of Jesse Jamester was littered with tattoos, scars, and markings of wars he had been through in his twenty-five years in the wrestling industry.
“Using Eron Hunter as a message, a statement -- that’s something I would do Keith. Unlike a lot of the men who occupy a roster spot in NPW, claiming they are the best thing since maple syrup, I know you -- Keith Williams is able to back it up. Coming at a man like myself, preparing to leave a piece of yourself in that ring as a sacrifice for the victory… You are, and I will make sure I take my pound of flesh, not for Eron, but for your arrogance.”
Turning to the side, Jesse is looking at something off camera that is now directly in front of him. He rolls his neck from side to side, cracking it in the process.
“I know you’re willing to do whatever it takes to conquer the King of Violence. I am very aware that Keith Williams is the dirtiest motherfucka’ in this game right now, bar none. Your mind games, your mouth on the mic, hell even the group you run with. None of you give a damn about winning or losing - the ReVs want to be noticed and make a mockery of everything that is in their way! That’s where I draw my line. When the ReVenants came to my house and you pissed on my rug… that doesn’t go unpunished Keith! ”
Turning the camera towards the wall, we see four photos of the ReVenants, Neo James Carner, Rob Garcia, Oxford Osland and Keith Williams. Each one pinned to a cork board, with strings to each man, Keith at the top.
“August on the Atlantic III, I’m going to show Keith Williams why he should have stayed in his lane and kept his mouth shut!”
Turning to the camera, face zoom.
“Bring the ReVs, buy them front row seats to The Great White Terror versus the King of Violence! They will witness what a real leader looks like. Before the night is over, they will witness me paint the canvas with my masterpiece, The Great Tragedy of Keith Williams.”
Camera dims.
