Post by tstory on Oct 22, 2021 22:40:57 GMT -5
Scene opens to Devin Bishop walking across the tarmac of a small airport, his private jet behind him in the camera shot. Bishop places one foot on the steps of the jet and turns, his World Openweight Championship belt draped over his right shoulder. He smirks as he begins to speak.)
Bishop: Nathaniel. Feel free to crow. You've earned it. You are, in fact, the first person to be able to pin my shoulders to the mat for a three count in a very, very long time. Soak it in, bask in your accomplishment…
Because it will never...happen...again. You see, you were the fortunate beneficiary of a perfect storm. This victory is not yours alone. Cliff Ragsdale provided the weapon. Jester provided the distraction. Ariana Sears did the deed that you...you Nathaniel couldn't. See, if you want to get down to brass tacks, all you did was provide the weight that held me down. When you really think about it, a sandbag could have contributed as much to that pinfall as you did. If you keep thinking, you'll probably remember that I had you dead to rights, locked in a hold that you couldn't escape from. Think a little bit longer, and you'll realize the truth...you were beaten. Ragsdale knew it, or he wouldn't have tried to slide you the brass knuckles. Sears knew it, or she wouldn't have taken the shot that actually put me away. A cheap shot. A coward's move, Nathaniel. A cowardly move that you were desperately hoping she would take. This isn't an excuse, it's a fact.
But enough about that. That's in the past and now we have to look forward to the future. Hostile Fury specifically. I'm sure that you are going to be a challenge in the ring, Nathaniel. In fact, I'm counting on it. I'm putting in the work, knowing that facing you for the World Openweight Championship will not be a walk in the park. I'm not relying on luck... that's a fool's gambit. I am preparing for a war the likes of which UPW has never seen before, because I know you want to be the man. The only problem, Nathaniel, is that I am the man. The Apex. The Poet Laureate of Pain. I know you have your tricks. Brass knuckles, diversion tactics, a manager and valet who will do anything to tip the scales and give you the victory. I have my own tactics. I'm not a gambler. I always have an ace up my sleeve and another in my boot. You may think that you've put together the perfect strategy to take this championship from me but mark my words... when the title is on the line, I will stop at nothing to keep it. I've already covered the bases. Trust me, you will be thrown off your game. In fact, I can guarantee that when you and the rest of the CCZA are sitting in your locker room before the match begins, each and every one of you will be sweating. Enjoy Tokyo. Do some sight seeing, spend some time with your girlfriend on the company's dime. Make a few happy memories, because facing me will not be a happy memory. It will be a nightmare.
I am the Apex...and you are soon going to be another notch on this World Openweight Championship belt.
Bishop: Nathaniel. Feel free to crow. You've earned it. You are, in fact, the first person to be able to pin my shoulders to the mat for a three count in a very, very long time. Soak it in, bask in your accomplishment…
Because it will never...happen...again. You see, you were the fortunate beneficiary of a perfect storm. This victory is not yours alone. Cliff Ragsdale provided the weapon. Jester provided the distraction. Ariana Sears did the deed that you...you Nathaniel couldn't. See, if you want to get down to brass tacks, all you did was provide the weight that held me down. When you really think about it, a sandbag could have contributed as much to that pinfall as you did. If you keep thinking, you'll probably remember that I had you dead to rights, locked in a hold that you couldn't escape from. Think a little bit longer, and you'll realize the truth...you were beaten. Ragsdale knew it, or he wouldn't have tried to slide you the brass knuckles. Sears knew it, or she wouldn't have taken the shot that actually put me away. A cheap shot. A coward's move, Nathaniel. A cowardly move that you were desperately hoping she would take. This isn't an excuse, it's a fact.
But enough about that. That's in the past and now we have to look forward to the future. Hostile Fury specifically. I'm sure that you are going to be a challenge in the ring, Nathaniel. In fact, I'm counting on it. I'm putting in the work, knowing that facing you for the World Openweight Championship will not be a walk in the park. I'm not relying on luck... that's a fool's gambit. I am preparing for a war the likes of which UPW has never seen before, because I know you want to be the man. The only problem, Nathaniel, is that I am the man. The Apex. The Poet Laureate of Pain. I know you have your tricks. Brass knuckles, diversion tactics, a manager and valet who will do anything to tip the scales and give you the victory. I have my own tactics. I'm not a gambler. I always have an ace up my sleeve and another in my boot. You may think that you've put together the perfect strategy to take this championship from me but mark my words... when the title is on the line, I will stop at nothing to keep it. I've already covered the bases. Trust me, you will be thrown off your game. In fact, I can guarantee that when you and the rest of the CCZA are sitting in your locker room before the match begins, each and every one of you will be sweating. Enjoy Tokyo. Do some sight seeing, spend some time with your girlfriend on the company's dime. Make a few happy memories, because facing me will not be a happy memory. It will be a nightmare.
I am the Apex...and you are soon going to be another notch on this World Openweight Championship belt.