Post by Dylan on Aug 17, 2021 23:27:40 GMT -5
Tell me Mr. Whelan, what defines you as a wrestler?
Dylan Black sits on a steel chair in the middle of an empty room. He wears a red leather jacket, a grey undershirt, black jeans and boots. Dylan sits forward in the chair, a blank expression on his face.
Dylan: The Oxford Dictionary defines a wrestler as "a person who takes part in wrestling, especially for sport." While that's all it is to the common eye, we know that we're more than people taking part in sport for entertainment of the masses. For the most of us, we bleed sweat and cry in the ring. We give our all out there. Our tenacity, our performances, that's why define all of us as a whole. But the individual, what's the one thing the viewer remembers most? What's the thing that can only define people wrestler-to-wrestler?
The challenger leans in, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dylan: Its your wins and, more importantly, your losses that define you. That define every wrestler in the world.
He nods and leans back in his chair, the look on his face says he's about to impart valuable knowledge onto Finn and the champion better be listening.
Dylan: When you stood up to that old bat Kelly, you had one thing you wanted say, one question you wanted to answer. Who you were. Mr. Whelan, I am very aware of who the fuck you are, a quick glide through the NLW archives provides me with more than enough answers to that. What I want is to psychoanalyze you as you're scrambling to determine how are you going to deal with being crushed by the greatest wrestler of this decade?
The doctor is in. He stands up from his chair and clasps his hands behind his back, beginning to pace in front of us.
Dylan: Now, I could look back at the archives, look at your losses and connect a pattern. But really, you're not so much a loser Finn. You take the beatings everyone dishes out and how you react to the next challenge never waivers regardless how the last ended. It's how you'll come apart after this roadblock that I want you to take into consideration.
Dylan cracks his knuckles and spins on the balls of his feets.
Dylan: The only reason you are NLW Heavyweight Champion is because you got lucky. Not in the match, that was a rabbit hole I dare not dig up. You got lucky that you managed to impress Mr. Gunn enough to buy in to a match with Tommy Kelly.
He leans towards the camera.
Dylan: And to be honest, with Dunne's interference or without, it's not hard to take down that old crow.
A sneer.
Dylan: Now, the same could be said about my entry into this match. But while you impressed Mr. Gunn for a few months enough for him to be invested in your talents, he's owned stocks in my name since 2017! He was calling my matches in AXW before you'd won your first championship. I was conquering the world as Mr. Undisputed while you were bragging about landing third place in the Quag Cup!
Dylan pauses, taking a moment to recompose himself.
Dylan: The point that I'm trying to make, I'm in this position because my worth is well known to Mr. Gunn and, whether it's one match or a hundred, he knows I'll profit NLW. You were given your opportunity because he wanted to see what you could do.
Pause for effect.
Dylan: He wanted to see what you could do.
Grin.
Dylan: Almost like this was a tryout to see what your capabilities were. And you passed his test, but now Mr. Gunn has set up an even better challenge for the new NLW Heavyweight Champion in the man who Tommy Kelly could never pin.
He lifts a hand up, fingers spread and eyes deadlocked with the camera.
Dylan: History is always written by the victors of battles, and know that I plan to make a whole book about the Fall of Whelan. We know the outcome already. But you seem like the rebel, one who wants to delay the inevitable. Wanna know something? There's a saying for for all those who fail to bow to the Messiah, for those to refuse to bloody hail?
Dylan balls his hand up into a fist, scowling at his prey. And speaks once more in a low, raspy voice.
Dylan: You lose.
Finn.
