Post by hardcorehammer24 on Feb 13, 2022 21:34:46 GMT -5
Camera pans into an old church sanctuary. The designs on the stained glass depict memorable scenes from the Bible; the casting of Lucifer from Heaven, the Passion Play of Christ’s last seven days, the last supper, the revelation of a new Earth as envisioned by the apostle Paul. The pews are empty, and the light is low only lit by ancient candelabras. Jakie Wentzel, enters dressed in all black with a long trench coat and his traditional brimmed hat. He walks without a sound to the alter…the silence is deafening as he stares out into the large atrium. Suddenly, as if possessed, he speaks out in a fury. His voice thunders as it resounds through the empty church.
“What kind off riffraff did these fuckers at Conquest get off tha street, naw onst? I thought tha sinners ant crooks I had to spread Gott’s mission to in tha UK were bad enough. Scum such as Dylan Erickson…Billy Fowler…Nocturnal…Eddie Havok…they were priests in comparison to this crew. What a sad state off affairs this profession has gone to, where tha next generation off performers are so much more pitiful and insignificant than tha ones before. We got a clown, a damn leprechaun named Flanagan, jobbers, and abominations. The damn title match is even a joke…Armand Von Krauss’ best fighter is a bottom tier lackey with no talent which goes tah show where his power has gone…he has become the pawn where he once was tha master. It makes me sick naw.”
Jakie spits on the floor and scoffs.
“I mean look naw, my first competitor…nothing but a lousy junkie. This is tha best challenge y’all can get me? Gregory Mills, Greg Adkins, whatever yer name actually is, what kind off life is this you are leading? You, just sitting around making a mockery off Gott’s plan sticking yerself with needles and junk until what? Ya finally reach that lucky day and get tha fix that will end it all. All tha pain…all tha disappointment…tha fact yer daddy didn’t love ya as much as he loved tha thrill off tha ring. A man who served money ant power, and lost both when it mattered most.”
Jakie shakes his head and removes his hat as he sets his gaze up to the rafters. His eyes burn with a fire that has not been seen in him before. No longer a naive boy, he speaks as a man who has seen tragedy. A man who has finally come to understand his purpose.
“But nah, when ya finally reach tha end off this world and you are waiting fer tha silence, fer tha darkness to surround you. At that point you will be greatly mistaken…and why? Because like me, like Armand Von Krauss, hell even like D himself…everyone must pay tha piper fer their previous wrongs.”
His voice swells to a prophetic yell; a blistering crescendo that shakes the church’s foundations.
“Fer tha voice off tha Lord will resound, tha silence will be deafened, and tha darkness will be blinding. He will be ready tah judge yer soul, ant what will yah haff tah show fer it? Not only your sins but tha sins off yer father, which make your hands even more dirty by association. You had a choice tah do better, tah be better. And you turned to tha darkness, you embraced tha fate of tha wicked. Yah understand my jib, Greg?”
Jakie quiets down, his haunting eyes directly addressing the camera. He declares a definitive challenge as he slides on his brass knuckles.
“But yah do have a choice, naw. You can continue towards the darkness…or you can join me in my mission. You can submit to my power at Warzone and avoid tha fear of eternal damnation. We in New Intercourse will welcome yah with open arms as a disciple of Wentzel’s Warriors. Give up yer drugs and expand your mind to a new master…tha Lord of all things…or perish by my hand. Decide, Gregory Adkins or I will MAKE yah decide!”
Jakie goes to exit but quick turns back to the alter.
“And one more thing, herr Adkins. If you even think off sticking yer dirty shit-licking finger in my rear ent, naw, I will be sending my size 14 boots up yers in return, ye bist? I’ll be seeing yah real soon. Is yer soul ready?”
Cut to black.
“What kind off riffraff did these fuckers at Conquest get off tha street, naw onst? I thought tha sinners ant crooks I had to spread Gott’s mission to in tha UK were bad enough. Scum such as Dylan Erickson…Billy Fowler…Nocturnal…Eddie Havok…they were priests in comparison to this crew. What a sad state off affairs this profession has gone to, where tha next generation off performers are so much more pitiful and insignificant than tha ones before. We got a clown, a damn leprechaun named Flanagan, jobbers, and abominations. The damn title match is even a joke…Armand Von Krauss’ best fighter is a bottom tier lackey with no talent which goes tah show where his power has gone…he has become the pawn where he once was tha master. It makes me sick naw.”
Jakie spits on the floor and scoffs.
“I mean look naw, my first competitor…nothing but a lousy junkie. This is tha best challenge y’all can get me? Gregory Mills, Greg Adkins, whatever yer name actually is, what kind off life is this you are leading? You, just sitting around making a mockery off Gott’s plan sticking yerself with needles and junk until what? Ya finally reach that lucky day and get tha fix that will end it all. All tha pain…all tha disappointment…tha fact yer daddy didn’t love ya as much as he loved tha thrill off tha ring. A man who served money ant power, and lost both when it mattered most.”
Jakie shakes his head and removes his hat as he sets his gaze up to the rafters. His eyes burn with a fire that has not been seen in him before. No longer a naive boy, he speaks as a man who has seen tragedy. A man who has finally come to understand his purpose.
“But nah, when ya finally reach tha end off this world and you are waiting fer tha silence, fer tha darkness to surround you. At that point you will be greatly mistaken…and why? Because like me, like Armand Von Krauss, hell even like D himself…everyone must pay tha piper fer their previous wrongs.”
His voice swells to a prophetic yell; a blistering crescendo that shakes the church’s foundations.
“Fer tha voice off tha Lord will resound, tha silence will be deafened, and tha darkness will be blinding. He will be ready tah judge yer soul, ant what will yah haff tah show fer it? Not only your sins but tha sins off yer father, which make your hands even more dirty by association. You had a choice tah do better, tah be better. And you turned to tha darkness, you embraced tha fate of tha wicked. Yah understand my jib, Greg?”
Jakie quiets down, his haunting eyes directly addressing the camera. He declares a definitive challenge as he slides on his brass knuckles.
“But yah do have a choice, naw. You can continue towards the darkness…or you can join me in my mission. You can submit to my power at Warzone and avoid tha fear of eternal damnation. We in New Intercourse will welcome yah with open arms as a disciple of Wentzel’s Warriors. Give up yer drugs and expand your mind to a new master…tha Lord of all things…or perish by my hand. Decide, Gregory Adkins or I will MAKE yah decide!”
Jakie goes to exit but quick turns back to the alter.
“And one more thing, herr Adkins. If you even think off sticking yer dirty shit-licking finger in my rear ent, naw, I will be sending my size 14 boots up yers in return, ye bist? I’ll be seeing yah real soon. Is yer soul ready?”
Cut to black.