Post by CURE-E on Aug 21, 2022 16:55:34 GMT -5
:: The scene fades into CURE-E colorfully contrasted against the black background. He looks down at himself playing with own hands. He only intermittently glances up to the camera. ::
“A new chance to prove myself, and this time, it’s for something. It's not just for bragging rights either. My first triple threat match in a while. My first number one contendership match in a while. Not just against no one either.”
:: He closes his eyes just for a moment before re-opening them with such determination. ::
“Bloodied Fox. That name rings a bell. A bit after my time, but a prime example of the next generation of wrestling. He’s spent his relatively short time in the wrestling scene accomplishing so much. From his accolades within the AWF to his stunt as the XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion, it’s nothing to shake a stick at. He’s the longest reigning champion of all time.
I’m not kissing your ass, Fox. I’m a fair man. When I first entered the ring nearly twenty years ago, I began paying my dues. I still pay my dues, and this was evidence of it. This is an industry that takes. But it also gives too.”
:: CURE-E points to a horizontal scar along his forearm. ::
“Those annihilation complex matches are no joke, heh. But if you don’t believe me, feel free to ask Rob Arnold. I won’t lie. That tough son of a bitch can really put out all the stops.”
: CURE-E forces himself to break from a half-hearted chuckle. ::
“Or better yet, I’ll send you the message on the industry’s behalf. You think this mask is an insurance policy? As reasonable a man as you appear to be, I won’t make vague claims; I’ll make a promise. Within one year, I will unmask and you’ll see just who I am. You’ve been with this company for three or four years. One more won’t kill you. But one match might.
You see, the ring rust is still there. Muscle memory not quite there. I’m not sure what I’m capable of. I could break your arm when I’m just trying to tap you out.”
:: Pause. ::
“And who can forget about Felix? Well, I can. In fact, I have no idea who he is. When I saw the name, I was thinking that the old AWF head needed to pay rent and that he got a job wrestling again, but unless you’ve been on a consistent keto diet, took up some plastic surgery and …somehow got shorter, you two aren’t the same.
I get it. You’re new here. That’s not your fault. All I know about you is from that one promo you just made. You’re meditating in front of a sunset, arguing with your own darkness. Halfway through, I felt bad watching this weird ninja clown show without paying an entrance fee. I half-expected you to be somehow related to Kira. But hey, maybe you’re just finding your voice. Every legend started their career at some point, and I should probably introduce myself and say, ‘Hello. My name is CURE-E and I’ll be kicking your ass at Collision Course. Welcome.’ After all, I love this industry.”
:: That’s when his expression shifts. ::
“But I’ll tell you what I don’t love. I don’t love when other people interrupt and interfere with my matches. It’s happened twice now and it’s something that boils my fucking blood. So this isn’t just a match. It’s a notice to anyone who sticks their nose where it doesn’t belong. So if I have to beat two people up instead of one, so be it. If I have to cause some serious injury, then that’s what I might have to do. Nothing against you, though. It just comes along with the job. You signed up for this, right? You signed up to be pitted against whichever opponent, in whichever type of match this company set out for you.
I’m tired of having my wins reduced to some deus ex machina coming to give me an win. I’m not going to let my fate be decided. Not by god nor machine.”
:: CURE-E grimaces as he looks at the camera. ::
“And not by Warrior nor Fox.
Welcome to hell. I'll be your tour guide.”
:: CURE-E turns around and walks off camera. The scene ends. ::
“A new chance to prove myself, and this time, it’s for something. It's not just for bragging rights either. My first triple threat match in a while. My first number one contendership match in a while. Not just against no one either.”
:: He closes his eyes just for a moment before re-opening them with such determination. ::
“Bloodied Fox. That name rings a bell. A bit after my time, but a prime example of the next generation of wrestling. He’s spent his relatively short time in the wrestling scene accomplishing so much. From his accolades within the AWF to his stunt as the XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion, it’s nothing to shake a stick at. He’s the longest reigning champion of all time.
I’m not kissing your ass, Fox. I’m a fair man. When I first entered the ring nearly twenty years ago, I began paying my dues. I still pay my dues, and this was evidence of it. This is an industry that takes. But it also gives too.”
:: CURE-E points to a horizontal scar along his forearm. ::
“Those annihilation complex matches are no joke, heh. But if you don’t believe me, feel free to ask Rob Arnold. I won’t lie. That tough son of a bitch can really put out all the stops.”
: CURE-E forces himself to break from a half-hearted chuckle. ::
“Or better yet, I’ll send you the message on the industry’s behalf. You think this mask is an insurance policy? As reasonable a man as you appear to be, I won’t make vague claims; I’ll make a promise. Within one year, I will unmask and you’ll see just who I am. You’ve been with this company for three or four years. One more won’t kill you. But one match might.
You see, the ring rust is still there. Muscle memory not quite there. I’m not sure what I’m capable of. I could break your arm when I’m just trying to tap you out.”
:: Pause. ::
“And who can forget about Felix? Well, I can. In fact, I have no idea who he is. When I saw the name, I was thinking that the old AWF head needed to pay rent and that he got a job wrestling again, but unless you’ve been on a consistent keto diet, took up some plastic surgery and …somehow got shorter, you two aren’t the same.
I get it. You’re new here. That’s not your fault. All I know about you is from that one promo you just made. You’re meditating in front of a sunset, arguing with your own darkness. Halfway through, I felt bad watching this weird ninja clown show without paying an entrance fee. I half-expected you to be somehow related to Kira. But hey, maybe you’re just finding your voice. Every legend started their career at some point, and I should probably introduce myself and say, ‘Hello. My name is CURE-E and I’ll be kicking your ass at Collision Course. Welcome.’ After all, I love this industry.”
:: That’s when his expression shifts. ::
“But I’ll tell you what I don’t love. I don’t love when other people interrupt and interfere with my matches. It’s happened twice now and it’s something that boils my fucking blood. So this isn’t just a match. It’s a notice to anyone who sticks their nose where it doesn’t belong. So if I have to beat two people up instead of one, so be it. If I have to cause some serious injury, then that’s what I might have to do. Nothing against you, though. It just comes along with the job. You signed up for this, right? You signed up to be pitted against whichever opponent, in whichever type of match this company set out for you.
I’m tired of having my wins reduced to some deus ex machina coming to give me an win. I’m not going to let my fate be decided. Not by god nor machine.”
:: CURE-E grimaces as he looks at the camera. ::
“And not by Warrior nor Fox.
Welcome to hell. I'll be your tour guide.”
:: CURE-E turns around and walks off camera. The scene ends. ::