Post by leonvanzandt on Dec 27, 2022 1:36:23 GMT -5
“So this is Christmas… and what have you done? Another year over, and a new one just begun.”
The familiar opener of John Lennon’s classic anti-war holiday anthem is not sung to us, but spoken, with a familiar thick Flemish brogue.
Cold open.
The darkened room is faintly bathed in the glow of Christmas lights from the city outside. Seated in the lotus position on the floor, Leon Van Zandt looks toward the lights, nodding and humming a hymn to himself.
“Christmas has come and gone, and the mystery and hope of a new year looms over the horizon. And of course, with the New Year comes a certain Brawl…”
The Professional turns his head toward us, eyebrow raised and a smile across his bearded face.
“A Brawl that will see the beginning of an agenda’s fruition. Myself and two of my brothers are in position to win championship gold on New Year’s Day. After a year that saw us storm into the rings of Wrestle: UK and place the entire company on notice, we will begin a new one with gold around our waists, and our names enshrined in wrestling history.”
A pause.
“It is common for people to make resolutions for the year ahead, in pursuit of self-improvement. Simple things like losing weight, reading more, and so on. Of course, so few of those resolutions actually stick, for many reasons. Maybe unrealistic goals are set. Maybe it’s a lack of effort. And maybe, simply, things happen.”
A chuckle.
“In that spirit, I resolve to start off 2023 with a few extra pounds of leather and gold in my possession. And my partner Jay Stevens and I fully intend to bring that resolution to fruition against The Bastards, when we wrest the Wrestle: UK Tag Team Championships from them at long last. And unlike so many resolutions made and abandoned… nothing will get in the way of making that resolution a reality.”
Leon rises to his feet, picki mg up his familiar Indian clubs.
“The path to that resolution began, of course, at the Battle for Britain, when Meneer Stevens and I laid the Wrestle: UK tag team division to waste, and punched our tickets to face Rob Riot and Frank Windsor. Since then we handily crushed Team Fairtex, and I faced Rob Riot personally in a match that came down to something as simple as where our bodies landed after we both hit the mat at once.”
A scowl crosses the grappler, frustration clearly setting in from the memories of that fateful night. He turns back towards the lights outside.
“The idea of resolutions seems to come from the resignation that one cannot change the past. And indeed, one thing that continues to stick in my craw is that match with Rob Riot some time ago. Relish that victory while you can.”
He turns back to us, still scowling.
“When we next face each other, you will not be so lucky.
“Not when there is so much more than mere pride on the line. Not when there is work to be done. Meneer Stevens and myself aim to take those tag team belts. Meneer Osland is himself a few shorts days away from being television champion of all Britain. See, Bastards, we have an AGENDA. And whether they call us The Black Hand, or the Inquisition, or whatever else, our mission does not change.
“And together, we are a force of nature the likes nobody in Wrestle: UK has ever seen, ever since we made our presence known. We have left our mark on this company in such a brief time, and look at us now. The first true challenge to the team of Rob Riot and Frank Windsor. I took Riot to the limit in Liverpool. With partners in tow, I am sure it will be a brutal encounter, as the Bastards certainly do live up to their name… with Riot in particular being of the ‘lucky’ variety.”
Leon slowly ambulates around his surroundings, looking down at the tatami-style matting on the floor.
“For weeks, we have exchanged words; picking fun at each other’s nationalities and the geopolitics within, and comparing each other’s training methods. On New Year’s Day that comes to a head. The snipes end. The wrestling begins once again. And those debates will come to a halt, decided by ambition and DRIVE. And we will emerge triumphant as the second Wrestle: UK Tag Team Champions. And from there?
“We open the gates. Show the world that we are not afraid of any challenger. And together with Oxford Osland as Television Champion, we will begin our mission of ruling all of Wrestle: UK with an iron fist.”
Van Zandt clenches a fist in front of his face.
“And what’s more, we will make all of Britain remember what true wrestlers are.
“The wrestling fans of Britain will remember what a proud nation they once were in the wrestling world, and what they can become once again.
“The wrestling fans of Britain will realize they don’t have to live with poseur champions with daft, twee singalongs and catchphrases.
“And the wrestling fans of Britain, if they haven’t already, will come to appreciate the hard men returning to the sport, showing them that the old ways never truly went out of style.”
Leon paces toward the window, his face glowing in the festive lighting outside.
“And the Bastards will come face to face with their own braggadocio, returning to haunt them against myself and Meneer Stevens. And when that day comes, boys?”
He turns his head towards us, a confident smirk on his face.
“It’s lights out.”
With a quick pull, the blinds are drawn, blotting out the window and covering the room in darkness.
Cut.
The familiar opener of John Lennon’s classic anti-war holiday anthem is not sung to us, but spoken, with a familiar thick Flemish brogue.
Cold open.
The darkened room is faintly bathed in the glow of Christmas lights from the city outside. Seated in the lotus position on the floor, Leon Van Zandt looks toward the lights, nodding and humming a hymn to himself.
“Christmas has come and gone, and the mystery and hope of a new year looms over the horizon. And of course, with the New Year comes a certain Brawl…”
The Professional turns his head toward us, eyebrow raised and a smile across his bearded face.
“A Brawl that will see the beginning of an agenda’s fruition. Myself and two of my brothers are in position to win championship gold on New Year’s Day. After a year that saw us storm into the rings of Wrestle: UK and place the entire company on notice, we will begin a new one with gold around our waists, and our names enshrined in wrestling history.”
A pause.
“It is common for people to make resolutions for the year ahead, in pursuit of self-improvement. Simple things like losing weight, reading more, and so on. Of course, so few of those resolutions actually stick, for many reasons. Maybe unrealistic goals are set. Maybe it’s a lack of effort. And maybe, simply, things happen.”
A chuckle.
“In that spirit, I resolve to start off 2023 with a few extra pounds of leather and gold in my possession. And my partner Jay Stevens and I fully intend to bring that resolution to fruition against The Bastards, when we wrest the Wrestle: UK Tag Team Championships from them at long last. And unlike so many resolutions made and abandoned… nothing will get in the way of making that resolution a reality.”
Leon rises to his feet, picki mg up his familiar Indian clubs.
“The path to that resolution began, of course, at the Battle for Britain, when Meneer Stevens and I laid the Wrestle: UK tag team division to waste, and punched our tickets to face Rob Riot and Frank Windsor. Since then we handily crushed Team Fairtex, and I faced Rob Riot personally in a match that came down to something as simple as where our bodies landed after we both hit the mat at once.”
A scowl crosses the grappler, frustration clearly setting in from the memories of that fateful night. He turns back towards the lights outside.
“The idea of resolutions seems to come from the resignation that one cannot change the past. And indeed, one thing that continues to stick in my craw is that match with Rob Riot some time ago. Relish that victory while you can.”
He turns back to us, still scowling.
“When we next face each other, you will not be so lucky.
“Not when there is so much more than mere pride on the line. Not when there is work to be done. Meneer Stevens and myself aim to take those tag team belts. Meneer Osland is himself a few shorts days away from being television champion of all Britain. See, Bastards, we have an AGENDA. And whether they call us The Black Hand, or the Inquisition, or whatever else, our mission does not change.
“And together, we are a force of nature the likes nobody in Wrestle: UK has ever seen, ever since we made our presence known. We have left our mark on this company in such a brief time, and look at us now. The first true challenge to the team of Rob Riot and Frank Windsor. I took Riot to the limit in Liverpool. With partners in tow, I am sure it will be a brutal encounter, as the Bastards certainly do live up to their name… with Riot in particular being of the ‘lucky’ variety.”
Leon slowly ambulates around his surroundings, looking down at the tatami-style matting on the floor.
“For weeks, we have exchanged words; picking fun at each other’s nationalities and the geopolitics within, and comparing each other’s training methods. On New Year’s Day that comes to a head. The snipes end. The wrestling begins once again. And those debates will come to a halt, decided by ambition and DRIVE. And we will emerge triumphant as the second Wrestle: UK Tag Team Champions. And from there?
“We open the gates. Show the world that we are not afraid of any challenger. And together with Oxford Osland as Television Champion, we will begin our mission of ruling all of Wrestle: UK with an iron fist.”
Van Zandt clenches a fist in front of his face.
“And what’s more, we will make all of Britain remember what true wrestlers are.
“The wrestling fans of Britain will remember what a proud nation they once were in the wrestling world, and what they can become once again.
“The wrestling fans of Britain will realize they don’t have to live with poseur champions with daft, twee singalongs and catchphrases.
“And the wrestling fans of Britain, if they haven’t already, will come to appreciate the hard men returning to the sport, showing them that the old ways never truly went out of style.”
Leon paces toward the window, his face glowing in the festive lighting outside.
“And the Bastards will come face to face with their own braggadocio, returning to haunt them against myself and Meneer Stevens. And when that day comes, boys?”
He turns his head towards us, a confident smirk on his face.
“It’s lights out.”
With a quick pull, the blinds are drawn, blotting out the window and covering the room in darkness.
Cut.