Post by Donzig on Nov 10, 2022 15:02:55 GMT -5
The scene is a street in Britain, and Donzig can be seen walking down the street. Not in his mask for once, and he grumbles to himself as he tugs on his long leather coat. The slender form of the Baroness follows behind him, dressed in a skirt and matching shirt with a faint frown. Suddenly, Donzig pauses at a call box to tear the door open. He leans inside, staring before he leans back out.
He looks around the sides, circles the back, and then shoves his head back in the door. Then he draws back with a scowl, frowning.
‘Hey, this is the same fucking size.’
Sinclair stares in disbelief, and a hand lifts to hide her smile. Donzig meanwhile bangs the door shut, shaking his head as he looks around before walking off.
‘Third one I checked, this place is a mess.’
He shrugged and walked on, stopping a random man dressed in a suit. A very accountant looking type, who stared at him nervously.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, do you know of Billy Fowler?’
The man seemed to think, then snapped his fingers.
‘The footballer?’
Donzig stared, and glanced back at Sinclair.
‘He means a soccer player.’
‘Who watches that?’
The man was staring at Sinclair with wide eyes, and he looked her up and down before his cheeks flushed.
‘Oh, wow.’
Sinclair rolled her eyes, and Donzig stomped past the man.
‘See Fowler, you claim to be the champion of these people! But no one even knows who in the fuck you are! I bet they don’t even know who you are in that shit hole Essex!’
Donzig paused, and he turned his attention to a small grey haired lady who was watching the birds. She looked up at him, smiling slightly before Donzig tilted his head as she adjusted her glasses before glancing at Sinclair.
A frown.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, do you know Billy Fowler?’
‘Ah, he is one of those awful Bastards! Ruffians! Scum!’
Donzig beamed, and he nodded eagerly.
‘They are the worst thing in W:UK, even worse than that creepy Armand Von Krauss or Wesley Crane!’
Donzig was ecstatic, starting to gloat.
‘But the worst thing in W:UK is that awful Donzig, he’s insane! He’s some kind of monster! The way he treats everyone like they are just less then he is? It makes me so angry! And the way he disrespects a fine wrestler like Spike Kane for no reason! Who does he think he is!’
Donzig’s smile died, and his eyes narrowed as a hand lifted to drag across his mouth. The old woman tugged on her purse, frowning as she blinked behind her glasses. Sinclair in the background again covered her mouth, looking away.
‘You know what else? I don’t like that girl who follows him around either, she is a no good stuck up busybody! Her and her stupid Receieved pronunciation! She acts so superior when she is just some kind of–’
Sinclair stepped forward, hands lifting like claws before Donzig’s arm snapped outwards to stop her. He grunted at the old woman, and he sniffed.
‘So you want Fowler to keep the belt over Donzig?’
‘I wish a real British wrestler like Bloodied Fox would win it!’
Sinclair stared, and Donzig’s face twitched as the old woman walked off.
‘I never! My accent is perfect!’
‘She must have missed the press conference.’
Sinclair glared at Donzig, and he stomped off again.
‘See Fowler, do you see? These people like well, what they like is fairly awful! But they like it better than say you! Your time is over! Over! It’s time for a new Champion! The Age of Bastards must end!’
A teenager blinked from where he stood with a cup of coffee, and he stepped forward.
‘Hold up, you’re bloody Donzig! The W:UK guy!’
Donzig stared at him, then grunted.
‘Me and my boys all love you, mate! You’re the man! Everyone says we are bloody edgelords, but you? I mean–’
Donzig held up a hand, leaning over to the Baroness.
‘What is an edgelord?’
Sinclair rolled her eyes.
‘So you think Donzig can beat Fowler?’
‘Of course, he can! He’s motherfucking Donzig.’
Donzig stared at the kid, then waved a hand before he started to walk onward.
‘You see Billy, these people? They have already turned their back on you! They have already accepted that I am the way of the Future! You have no hope, no fucking hope of winning! Accept it!’
A man on the street paused, and pointed angrily.
‘Hey! You stabbed Jakie Wentzel in the eye! Who does that?’
Donzig paused, a hand pressing against his chest as his eyes narrowed.
‘First all, Fowler powerbombed a man onto an expensive motorcycle! He tried to throw a man into an electronics panel! But you want to be mad at me for stabbing Jakie in the eye? Really? You’re an XHF fan, this isn’t your first stabbing!’
The man sputtered, and Donzig stalked off with a wave of his hand. Sinclair sneered at the man, sniffing.
‘Hey, do you know Billy Fowler?’
The man turned, and he then looked to the man next to him.
‘Billy Fowler? Didn’t we know a Billy Fowler?’
‘Oh, yes. He was a bully, bigger then the other kids,always acting like a jerk! I wonder whatever happened to him!’
‘Ah, he ran away and become a roadie for U2 or was it the Smiths? Him and that other bloke, Riot I think it was.’
Donzig nodded, and he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers tapping against his arm, head tilting with a scowl.
‘Hey, aren’t you the guy who tried to steal Spike’s na–’
Donzig’s foot snapped upwards, and the man dropped to the sidewalk after a brutal Event Horizon. He stared down at him, and the other man darted down the street as Donzig tilted his head.
‘Fowler, see you soon.’
He looks around the sides, circles the back, and then shoves his head back in the door. Then he draws back with a scowl, frowning.
‘Hey, this is the same fucking size.’
Sinclair stares in disbelief, and a hand lifts to hide her smile. Donzig meanwhile bangs the door shut, shaking his head as he looks around before walking off.
‘Third one I checked, this place is a mess.’
He shrugged and walked on, stopping a random man dressed in a suit. A very accountant looking type, who stared at him nervously.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, do you know of Billy Fowler?’
The man seemed to think, then snapped his fingers.
‘The footballer?’
Donzig stared, and glanced back at Sinclair.
‘He means a soccer player.’
‘Who watches that?’
The man was staring at Sinclair with wide eyes, and he looked her up and down before his cheeks flushed.
‘Oh, wow.’
Sinclair rolled her eyes, and Donzig stomped past the man.
‘See Fowler, you claim to be the champion of these people! But no one even knows who in the fuck you are! I bet they don’t even know who you are in that shit hole Essex!’
Donzig paused, and he turned his attention to a small grey haired lady who was watching the birds. She looked up at him, smiling slightly before Donzig tilted his head as she adjusted her glasses before glancing at Sinclair.
A frown.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, do you know Billy Fowler?’
‘Ah, he is one of those awful Bastards! Ruffians! Scum!’
Donzig beamed, and he nodded eagerly.
‘They are the worst thing in W:UK, even worse than that creepy Armand Von Krauss or Wesley Crane!’
Donzig was ecstatic, starting to gloat.
‘But the worst thing in W:UK is that awful Donzig, he’s insane! He’s some kind of monster! The way he treats everyone like they are just less then he is? It makes me so angry! And the way he disrespects a fine wrestler like Spike Kane for no reason! Who does he think he is!’
Donzig’s smile died, and his eyes narrowed as a hand lifted to drag across his mouth. The old woman tugged on her purse, frowning as she blinked behind her glasses. Sinclair in the background again covered her mouth, looking away.
‘You know what else? I don’t like that girl who follows him around either, she is a no good stuck up busybody! Her and her stupid Receieved pronunciation! She acts so superior when she is just some kind of–’
Sinclair stepped forward, hands lifting like claws before Donzig’s arm snapped outwards to stop her. He grunted at the old woman, and he sniffed.
‘So you want Fowler to keep the belt over Donzig?’
‘I wish a real British wrestler like Bloodied Fox would win it!’
Sinclair stared, and Donzig’s face twitched as the old woman walked off.
‘I never! My accent is perfect!’
‘She must have missed the press conference.’
Sinclair glared at Donzig, and he stomped off again.
‘See Fowler, do you see? These people like well, what they like is fairly awful! But they like it better than say you! Your time is over! Over! It’s time for a new Champion! The Age of Bastards must end!’
A teenager blinked from where he stood with a cup of coffee, and he stepped forward.
‘Hold up, you’re bloody Donzig! The W:UK guy!’
Donzig stared at him, then grunted.
‘Me and my boys all love you, mate! You’re the man! Everyone says we are bloody edgelords, but you? I mean–’
Donzig held up a hand, leaning over to the Baroness.
‘What is an edgelord?’
Sinclair rolled her eyes.
‘So you think Donzig can beat Fowler?’
‘Of course, he can! He’s motherfucking Donzig.’
Donzig stared at the kid, then waved a hand before he started to walk onward.
‘You see Billy, these people? They have already turned their back on you! They have already accepted that I am the way of the Future! You have no hope, no fucking hope of winning! Accept it!’
A man on the street paused, and pointed angrily.
‘Hey! You stabbed Jakie Wentzel in the eye! Who does that?’
Donzig paused, a hand pressing against his chest as his eyes narrowed.
‘First all, Fowler powerbombed a man onto an expensive motorcycle! He tried to throw a man into an electronics panel! But you want to be mad at me for stabbing Jakie in the eye? Really? You’re an XHF fan, this isn’t your first stabbing!’
The man sputtered, and Donzig stalked off with a wave of his hand. Sinclair sneered at the man, sniffing.
‘Hey, do you know Billy Fowler?’
The man turned, and he then looked to the man next to him.
‘Billy Fowler? Didn’t we know a Billy Fowler?’
‘Oh, yes. He was a bully, bigger then the other kids,always acting like a jerk! I wonder whatever happened to him!’
‘Ah, he ran away and become a roadie for U2 or was it the Smiths? Him and that other bloke, Riot I think it was.’
Donzig nodded, and he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers tapping against his arm, head tilting with a scowl.
‘Hey, aren’t you the guy who tried to steal Spike’s na–’
Donzig’s foot snapped upwards, and the man dropped to the sidewalk after a brutal Event Horizon. He stared down at him, and the other man darted down the street as Donzig tilted his head.
‘Fowler, see you soon.’
