Post by hardcorehammer24 on Jul 14, 2022 16:39:53 GMT -5
Cameras focus in on an empty grey room. Among the swirling shadows, Jakie Wentzel kneels on the ground praying.
Just when I thought tha devil couldn’t be more powerful, he sets an even higher tidal wave of treachery my way. What started as a purge off tha evil in W:UK has naw become a war for it’s retribution. Speckled in among useless jobbers I have found some truly black spots, much like the spicy flakes off pepper in my morning dippy eggs.
Cameras zoom in on Jakie’s pockmarked face as he continues his thought process.
Zolothach, one off tha most unholy abominations that make up Armand Von Krauss’ network off monstrosities. I would be a damn fool if I believed there was a single holy bone in yer body. Trust me, if you interfere with tha powers that be, I will cast yah by the hair back into tha very pits of Hell tah meet yer master. Olympia, no match fer any off us…Vector, stand back ant let tha real men battle from tha sideline…
Jakie stops suddenly, as if a new idea has developed in his mind. He shakes as if possessed, and nods to imaginary voices.
YES! Ronnie Long…now there is a noble soul that could be useful fer “tha Order.” A man who fights fer tha better good, ant then realizes that tha world off wrestling is really jest a cesspool is not a heel, as he has been labeled, but a prophet. You are welcome Herr Long tah tha same offer that I gave tah Eddie Havok. You can either battle against tha greater good ant fail, or you can join “Wentzel’s Warriors” ant take the W:UK by my side.
Jakie’s possessed energetic vibes change to a harsh grunt of contempt.
Ant naw we get tah Riot yet again. Herr Rob, why yah keep insistin’ on taking “Tha Mennonite Mangler” head tah head in combat? It appears I got a rise out off yah, callin’ yer geriatric ass out ain’t naw? But yah know what, Riot. I don’t care much about yer fancy belts ant titles. I don’t care that yer feelins’ haff been hurt so much by Jakie, naw. I don’t care because tha plans are still in motion, no matter how many matches you need to try ant change them. Everytime, I call out yer sin ant arrogance… ant each time you came a-running tah greet me, tail between yer legs, with all yer fancy words ant metaferical brooms talkin’ about crusades ant tha road tah Damascus like some high-talkin’ fool. But you are just a pawn in a higher game. ”Tha Order” is no crusade, I can assure yah…those forhootzed false prophets over at RSW were blinded by their foolish beliefs, ant one by one they fell to inevitable ruin…”Tha Order” was there hiding in tha shadows ant still lie in wait off our moment tah take control off everything. You think that Shane Mitchell ant Morcant Davis were bad…they were simply tha beginning.
Yah say you haff changed, that I am simply a paranoid fanatic, naw. But tha way I see it nothing appears to haff changed whatsohappened in yer shameful ways. You would think tha fans would be asleep by now with your sheer predictability, yah bist? You ant yer clowns off drinkin’ buddies winning tag titles over worthless jobbers ant puffin’ yer chests out like you own tha world. But you are not tha Lort…yah don’t talk fer him like we do ant simply put, yah own nothing. Ant when you stoop to yer lowest point…hitting tha “Hardcore Prophet” with his own holy book, it goes beyond tha sport, beyond tha mission. Now it is personal, ye bist me naw?
Jakie stands and directly addresses the camera.
Nah, you ant tha riffraff I am facing in Nottingham…youse must prepare yer souls fer tha coming retribution. The end times are coming, ant every knee will bow tah tha Lort ant Savior, tha Shadowman. He will lead us all tah tha final salvation as heaven ant Earth become one at tha promised Holy Lands of New Intercourse. The war fer yer souls is coming close…are yah ready? Because Jakie is comin tah be tha conduit…Jakie is gonna be battlin’ with Eron Hunter fer yer worthless Commonwealth Title…ant tha world will burn!
As the cameras fade out the shadows glow red like burning embers as Jakie kneels back down in fervent prayer.
Just when I thought tha devil couldn’t be more powerful, he sets an even higher tidal wave of treachery my way. What started as a purge off tha evil in W:UK has naw become a war for it’s retribution. Speckled in among useless jobbers I have found some truly black spots, much like the spicy flakes off pepper in my morning dippy eggs.
Cameras zoom in on Jakie’s pockmarked face as he continues his thought process.
Zolothach, one off tha most unholy abominations that make up Armand Von Krauss’ network off monstrosities. I would be a damn fool if I believed there was a single holy bone in yer body. Trust me, if you interfere with tha powers that be, I will cast yah by the hair back into tha very pits of Hell tah meet yer master. Olympia, no match fer any off us…Vector, stand back ant let tha real men battle from tha sideline…
Jakie stops suddenly, as if a new idea has developed in his mind. He shakes as if possessed, and nods to imaginary voices.
YES! Ronnie Long…now there is a noble soul that could be useful fer “tha Order.” A man who fights fer tha better good, ant then realizes that tha world off wrestling is really jest a cesspool is not a heel, as he has been labeled, but a prophet. You are welcome Herr Long tah tha same offer that I gave tah Eddie Havok. You can either battle against tha greater good ant fail, or you can join “Wentzel’s Warriors” ant take the W:UK by my side.
Jakie’s possessed energetic vibes change to a harsh grunt of contempt.
Ant naw we get tah Riot yet again. Herr Rob, why yah keep insistin’ on taking “Tha Mennonite Mangler” head tah head in combat? It appears I got a rise out off yah, callin’ yer geriatric ass out ain’t naw? But yah know what, Riot. I don’t care much about yer fancy belts ant titles. I don’t care that yer feelins’ haff been hurt so much by Jakie, naw. I don’t care because tha plans are still in motion, no matter how many matches you need to try ant change them. Everytime, I call out yer sin ant arrogance… ant each time you came a-running tah greet me, tail between yer legs, with all yer fancy words ant metaferical brooms talkin’ about crusades ant tha road tah Damascus like some high-talkin’ fool. But you are just a pawn in a higher game. ”Tha Order” is no crusade, I can assure yah…those forhootzed false prophets over at RSW were blinded by their foolish beliefs, ant one by one they fell to inevitable ruin…”Tha Order” was there hiding in tha shadows ant still lie in wait off our moment tah take control off everything. You think that Shane Mitchell ant Morcant Davis were bad…they were simply tha beginning.
Yah say you haff changed, that I am simply a paranoid fanatic, naw. But tha way I see it nothing appears to haff changed whatsohappened in yer shameful ways. You would think tha fans would be asleep by now with your sheer predictability, yah bist? You ant yer clowns off drinkin’ buddies winning tag titles over worthless jobbers ant puffin’ yer chests out like you own tha world. But you are not tha Lort…yah don’t talk fer him like we do ant simply put, yah own nothing. Ant when you stoop to yer lowest point…hitting tha “Hardcore Prophet” with his own holy book, it goes beyond tha sport, beyond tha mission. Now it is personal, ye bist me naw?
Jakie stands and directly addresses the camera.
Nah, you ant tha riffraff I am facing in Nottingham…youse must prepare yer souls fer tha coming retribution. The end times are coming, ant every knee will bow tah tha Lort ant Savior, tha Shadowman. He will lead us all tah tha final salvation as heaven ant Earth become one at tha promised Holy Lands of New Intercourse. The war fer yer souls is coming close…are yah ready? Because Jakie is comin tah be tha conduit…Jakie is gonna be battlin’ with Eron Hunter fer yer worthless Commonwealth Title…ant tha world will burn!
As the cameras fade out the shadows glow red like burning embers as Jakie kneels back down in fervent prayer.