Another sad joke.
Jan 19, 2023 23:12:41 GMT -5
"The High Roller" Wesley Crane and Anthony Jordan like this
Post by The Sheik on Jan 19, 2023 23:12:41 GMT -5
MXG: There is a conspiracy in HKW, there is a conspiracy at the highest levels of this company against my client! Last week, some jokester booked my client, my client the Sheik! One of the greatest, if not the greatest hand to hand combatant in this company against that LARPing poet! And what was that all about? No one listened to me when I said that cosplay motherfucker was not ready for the Sheik! You all blew me off, and look what happened! I keep telling you people that the Sheik is not like other men! That the Sheik is like no fighter in this fucking company, and yet you still keep at this!
Graves fumed as he stalked back and forth before the wall behind him that was painted with the HKW logo. His cane was tucked under his arm, and he shook his head as he kept walking back and forth. Behind him kneeling before the wall was the Sheik, the scarred and battered back moving as he breathed deeply as he stared at the wall. Graves ignored him, and waved his cane as he kept going.
MXG: The Sheik walked into the lair of our enemies, the Sheik walked into the WUK, and he led this company into battle! He called out the biggest, most fearsome fucking name in the WUK! And inside of being rewarded, because clearly in some attempt to pander to target demographic! In some attempt to get the PG audience to tune in? This company is handing out title shots to Crane, and protecting Dis-Knee Junior! What's the matter does the company think people don't want to see folks like my client or myself on their TV? Is that it?
Graves scowled, and he reached up to rip off his shades. He shoved them inside of his jacket, undoing his button as he kept pacing with his cane in hand.
MXG: My client is out here risking life and limb at Supremacy, fighting whatever clusterfuck that is that the XHF thinks is talent? And his reward is this? Watts? WATTS?
Graves stared, and then his lip curled with a snort.
MXG: Listen, kid, I don't know, I don't pretend to know what runs through the minds of the powers that be! But evidently? They don't like you much. I get you're a fine athlete, I get you're a great athlete, great powerlifter, great collegiate athlete? The Sheik doesn't care about that, the Sheik will take you and he will break your back, Watts! He will break your back, and make you humble! He isn't playing these games, you think beating Little Dragon makes you on the level of the Great King of Terror? Is that it? Boy, please. Please, stop, the Sheik is a killer. He is a killer, your boy Anthony? He can't prepare you for what he is going to do to you, kid! You have no idea, what this man will fucking do to you!
Graves shook his head, waving a hand with his cane as he paced back and forth. The Sheik rose from the floor, and he swept back the veil of his keffiyah as he started to stalk back and forth. His hands lifting and flexing before him as he snarled, baring his teeth as Graves continued.
MXG: Watts, just take the week off. Just back to Okie State, and sit around with your frat boy buddies. Have some beers, pick up some girls, and stay the fuck out of San Francisco! This is not a fight you want, and make no mistake, this is not a match. This is a fucking fight, he is out for blood. All he sees right now is that psycho, all he wants is to send a message to delusional mask wearing freak show! Do you want to be that message, Watts? Anthony, listen I know you're here to ride some coat tails! I know you just want some paychecks, man. You want to move some merch, get your cut, and bounce! I get that, I respect that. The Sheik doesn't give a fuck, he wants to hurt someone.
The Sheik snarled something, and then his taped up fists slammed into the cement wall. He battered away at the wall for a few hard punches, and then he drew back as blood was spattered across the HKW logo. He stared at the blood, before he lifted his hands to stare at the blood soaking through the tape before he spun to shove past Graves. He yanked on the camera man, nearly making him drop the camera as he spat angrily. Snarling as he ranted and raved.
The Sheik: Wats? Wats? Hadhih 'iihanat lilshaykhi! Hadhih 'iihanat marirat limalik al'iirhab aleazimi! 'Urid aistirjae laqabiin min hantir! 'Urid kasr batal HKW qibli! Wana aeti wats? Hadha alwildi? Fagh!
He shoved the camera man again, snarling before he jabbed a finger at the man as he grabbed Graves to shove him forward.
MXG: Watts? WATTS? This is an insult to the Sheik! This is a bitter insult to the Great King of Terror! I want my title back from HUNTER! I want the HKW Champion to be broken before me! And I am given Watts? This boy? Fagh!
The Sheik's hand twisted on Graves' jacket, jerking him forward as he kept going.
The Sheik: 'Antuni Jurdan? bimujarad 'an tusbih rayean , bimujarad 'an takun thdyan lilshaykhi! Lakinak alan eajuz 'ahmaq , la shay' muteab yakhtabi wara' hadha alsabii alsaghiri! Lakina alshaykh lays 'ahmaq , walshaykh yuelam , yatadhakaru!
Graves looked confused, licking his lips before he shook his head as he lifted his hands in a panic as the Sheik glared at him. The Sheik pointed with a bloody hand, snarling before he shook Graves once more.
MXG: Anthony Jordan? Once you were great, once you would have been a challenge to the Sheik! But now you are an old fool, a tired nothing hiding behind this young boy! But the Sheik is no fool, the Sheik knows, he remembers!
The Sheik: 'Antu! 'Antu! 'Ant min al'ashkhas aladhin yuhibuhum faqat! Laqad kunt alshakhs aladhi 'asmah "sdiqa"! 'antuni jurdan , baed 'an mazaqat mashrueak alsaghira! baed 'an shaqatah min taraf 'iilaa tarafin! Wa'atruk wats yakhtaniq bidamih dakhil tilk alhalqati!
Graves swallowed, and held up his hands again as the Sheik growled at him with wild eyes.
MXG: You! You! You are one of the only people that he loves! You were the one he called 'friend'! Anthony Jordan, after I rip your little project apart! After I rip him from limb to limb! And I leave Watts choking on his own blood inside of that ring! I have no idea what--
The Sheik cut him off, and jabbed a finger at the camera as he stalked closer. His hands before him, flexing and twisting as he snarled and spat.
The Sheik: Sa'ursil lak lah qtean 'ayuha al'ahmaq aleajuzi! Sa'azhir lisadiqik alqadim madaa jidiyati bi'iiteamih juthatak alqadimat almuteabat almughataat bidam abnik alsaghir! Hal tasmaeuni ya alardin hal tasmaeuni ya Watis?
Graves looked confused, but nodded quickly as he smoothed his jacket before he stepped back from the Sheik. The Sheik threw a final punch at the wall, blood flying before he stormed off down the hall without another word. Graves watched him go, shaking his head before he spoke.
MXG: I will send you to him in pieces, old fool! I will show your old friend how serious I am by feeding him your tired old carcass covered in the blood of your young boy! Do you hear me, Jordan? Do you hear me, Watts?
Graves tugged at his lapels, and then he reached inside to pull out his shades. He put them back on his face, and he shrugged as he looked at the camera again.
MXG: And by the way, boys? Bring the Sheik's British TV Title with you, champ.
Graves fumed as he stalked back and forth before the wall behind him that was painted with the HKW logo. His cane was tucked under his arm, and he shook his head as he kept walking back and forth. Behind him kneeling before the wall was the Sheik, the scarred and battered back moving as he breathed deeply as he stared at the wall. Graves ignored him, and waved his cane as he kept going.
MXG: The Sheik walked into the lair of our enemies, the Sheik walked into the WUK, and he led this company into battle! He called out the biggest, most fearsome fucking name in the WUK! And inside of being rewarded, because clearly in some attempt to pander to target demographic! In some attempt to get the PG audience to tune in? This company is handing out title shots to Crane, and protecting Dis-Knee Junior! What's the matter does the company think people don't want to see folks like my client or myself on their TV? Is that it?
Graves scowled, and he reached up to rip off his shades. He shoved them inside of his jacket, undoing his button as he kept pacing with his cane in hand.
MXG: My client is out here risking life and limb at Supremacy, fighting whatever clusterfuck that is that the XHF thinks is talent? And his reward is this? Watts? WATTS?
Graves stared, and then his lip curled with a snort.
MXG: Listen, kid, I don't know, I don't pretend to know what runs through the minds of the powers that be! But evidently? They don't like you much. I get you're a fine athlete, I get you're a great athlete, great powerlifter, great collegiate athlete? The Sheik doesn't care about that, the Sheik will take you and he will break your back, Watts! He will break your back, and make you humble! He isn't playing these games, you think beating Little Dragon makes you on the level of the Great King of Terror? Is that it? Boy, please. Please, stop, the Sheik is a killer. He is a killer, your boy Anthony? He can't prepare you for what he is going to do to you, kid! You have no idea, what this man will fucking do to you!
Graves shook his head, waving a hand with his cane as he paced back and forth. The Sheik rose from the floor, and he swept back the veil of his keffiyah as he started to stalk back and forth. His hands lifting and flexing before him as he snarled, baring his teeth as Graves continued.
MXG: Watts, just take the week off. Just back to Okie State, and sit around with your frat boy buddies. Have some beers, pick up some girls, and stay the fuck out of San Francisco! This is not a fight you want, and make no mistake, this is not a match. This is a fucking fight, he is out for blood. All he sees right now is that psycho, all he wants is to send a message to delusional mask wearing freak show! Do you want to be that message, Watts? Anthony, listen I know you're here to ride some coat tails! I know you just want some paychecks, man. You want to move some merch, get your cut, and bounce! I get that, I respect that. The Sheik doesn't give a fuck, he wants to hurt someone.
The Sheik snarled something, and then his taped up fists slammed into the cement wall. He battered away at the wall for a few hard punches, and then he drew back as blood was spattered across the HKW logo. He stared at the blood, before he lifted his hands to stare at the blood soaking through the tape before he spun to shove past Graves. He yanked on the camera man, nearly making him drop the camera as he spat angrily. Snarling as he ranted and raved.
The Sheik: Wats? Wats? Hadhih 'iihanat lilshaykhi! Hadhih 'iihanat marirat limalik al'iirhab aleazimi! 'Urid aistirjae laqabiin min hantir! 'Urid kasr batal HKW qibli! Wana aeti wats? Hadha alwildi? Fagh!
He shoved the camera man again, snarling before he jabbed a finger at the man as he grabbed Graves to shove him forward.
MXG: Watts? WATTS? This is an insult to the Sheik! This is a bitter insult to the Great King of Terror! I want my title back from HUNTER! I want the HKW Champion to be broken before me! And I am given Watts? This boy? Fagh!
The Sheik's hand twisted on Graves' jacket, jerking him forward as he kept going.
The Sheik: 'Antuni Jurdan? bimujarad 'an tusbih rayean , bimujarad 'an takun thdyan lilshaykhi! Lakinak alan eajuz 'ahmaq , la shay' muteab yakhtabi wara' hadha alsabii alsaghiri! Lakina alshaykh lays 'ahmaq , walshaykh yuelam , yatadhakaru!
Graves looked confused, licking his lips before he shook his head as he lifted his hands in a panic as the Sheik glared at him. The Sheik pointed with a bloody hand, snarling before he shook Graves once more.
MXG: Anthony Jordan? Once you were great, once you would have been a challenge to the Sheik! But now you are an old fool, a tired nothing hiding behind this young boy! But the Sheik is no fool, the Sheik knows, he remembers!
The Sheik: 'Antu! 'Antu! 'Ant min al'ashkhas aladhin yuhibuhum faqat! Laqad kunt alshakhs aladhi 'asmah "sdiqa"! 'antuni jurdan , baed 'an mazaqat mashrueak alsaghira! baed 'an shaqatah min taraf 'iilaa tarafin! Wa'atruk wats yakhtaniq bidamih dakhil tilk alhalqati!
Graves swallowed, and held up his hands again as the Sheik growled at him with wild eyes.
MXG: You! You! You are one of the only people that he loves! You were the one he called 'friend'! Anthony Jordan, after I rip your little project apart! After I rip him from limb to limb! And I leave Watts choking on his own blood inside of that ring! I have no idea what--
The Sheik cut him off, and jabbed a finger at the camera as he stalked closer. His hands before him, flexing and twisting as he snarled and spat.
The Sheik: Sa'ursil lak lah qtean 'ayuha al'ahmaq aleajuzi! Sa'azhir lisadiqik alqadim madaa jidiyati bi'iiteamih juthatak alqadimat almuteabat almughataat bidam abnik alsaghir! Hal tasmaeuni ya alardin hal tasmaeuni ya Watis?
Graves looked confused, but nodded quickly as he smoothed his jacket before he stepped back from the Sheik. The Sheik threw a final punch at the wall, blood flying before he stormed off down the hall without another word. Graves watched him go, shaking his head before he spoke.
MXG: I will send you to him in pieces, old fool! I will show your old friend how serious I am by feeding him your tired old carcass covered in the blood of your young boy! Do you hear me, Jordan? Do you hear me, Watts?
Graves tugged at his lapels, and then he reached inside to pull out his shades. He put them back on his face, and he shrugged as he looked at the camera again.
MXG: And by the way, boys? Bring the Sheik's British TV Title with you, champ.
