Post by The Sheik on Oct 7, 2023 13:20:59 GMT -5
MXG: The Battle of Britain, thirty superstars! Among the very best from across the XHF, the most dangerous men in the WUK! And they are all competing for one thing, and that is an opportunity for a a title of their choice at New Year’s Brawl!
Graves paused, and he absently adjusted his tie. He smoothed his lapels, and shrugged as he glanced around. Then he lifted his hand, pulling off his sunglasses before he folds them up before he slid them inside of his jacket.
MXG: And not a ladder in sight.
He smirked, and he tapped his cane before he continued. The form of the Sheik stood in the background, silent for now as he was staring at the wall. His scarred back and shoulders moving slowly as he took deep breaths as he seemed unconcerned. And Graves continued, nodding to himself.
MXG: And into all of this walks the best combat athlete in the damned world! And I am talking about my client, the Sheik! The Great King of Terror doesn’t care if it’s a Palm Springs bingo hall, or the O2 Arena! He is going to walk into that ring, and he is going to start collecting scalps! There is going to be a bloodbath in London!
There no rules, there is no quarter! It is killed or be killed, every man for himself! And I don’t care if you are Warrick the latest flash in the pan from Crane! Or I don’t care if you’re Kasper Van Whatever, or those two clowns who want to drink from Valentine’s teat Team Fairtex! I don’t care! And the Sheik doesn’t care.
The Sheik growled, and he turned to stare at the camera. He bared his teeth, and his hands lifted to curl into claws as his wild eyes narrowed. Graves gestured with the cane, tapping his scarred chest lightly before he smirked.
MXG: Florida Man? Florida Man? You think this silly motherfucker has a chance in Hell against a man like the Sheik? This is the Great King of Terror, this man has survived the most hostile, inhuman places on earth! A place incompatible with human life, where only a precious few are allowed to thrive!
And that was just HKW! That is not even counting the Empty Quarter!
Graves laughed.
MXG: Spike Kane? Listen, if Spike gets in the way of the Sheik? He may not even make it to Buried Alive! He might be dragged out there on a stretcher, son! Do you understand what the Sheik is capable of! Do you!
And then we have the fools from Donzig-Gun, Armand-gun, whatever!
You think the Sheik gives two shits about your WUK Tag Team titles? You think the Sheik gives two shits about which sociopath you want to follow this week? No! Because the Sheik is going to deal with the entire pack of you once and for all!
Not one of you can stand up to this man without your fucking leaders!
Not one!
Graves frowned, and he tugged at his jacket before he undid the middle button. He started to say something, but then the Sheik pushed him back his fingers tangled in his jacket. He leaned closer, and he looked down to stare at his hands before he fumed.
The Sheik: kulukum! kulukum dueafa'u! laqad tama tahdhirukum jamiean! 'ana 'asir fi maerakat biritania bhthan ean aldum!
sa'udamir 'aya shakhs yaetarid tariaqi! sawf akhdh dhahab WUK! wasawf 'arfaeuh ealyaan karamz liantisari!
The Sheik spat, and he pointed an angry finger before he grabbed MXG once more. He hauled him closer, snarling as he continued in a low growl.
The Sheik: dakhil maerakat biritania, dakhil harb siltik! sa'antaqim min wisli krin! sa'aakhudh minh 'akthar ma yuhibuhu! eunwan WUK!
sa'antaqim min marti dunufan! sawf akhadh sharikahi, hadha alrajul alsihaliat al'ahmaqu!
wasa'uksiruh eind qadami! sa'adaeuh taht kaeabi!
He gestured at the camera, frowning again. MXG nodded, and stepped closer.
MXG: All of you! All of you weaklings! All of you have been warned! I am walking into Battle of Britain looking for blood!
I will destroy anyone who gets in my way! I will take the gold of WUK! And I will hold it high as a symbol of my triumph!
Inside the Battle of Britain, inside Celtic Warfare! I will have my revenge on Wesley Crane! I will take what he loves the most from him! The WUK title!
I will have my revenge on Marty Donovan! I will take his partner, this fool lizard man!
And I shall break him at my feet! I will ground him under my heel!
The Sheik sneered.
The Sheik: fi maerakat biritania, sa'afeal hadhih al'ashya'i! sa'adae 'aedayiy mnkhfdan!
sa'antasir ealayhim! sa'aeud 'iilaa HKW wa'urihim ma qumt bihi!
wasawf yakhafun!
MXG: At Battle of Britain, I will do these things! I will lay my enemies low!
I will triumph over them! I will walk back to HKW and show them what I have done!
And they will fear!
The Sheik growled once more, and then he shoved MXG back before he turned to stalk off. His fist slammed against the wall, and blood stained it before he headed off. Graves watched him, loosening his tie before he gave a shake of his head.
MXG: Valentine! Take notes, because what we do here? Is nothing compared to what we do to HKW until we get what we want!
This is the fucking Revenge Tour, kid.
Graves paused, and he absently adjusted his tie. He smoothed his lapels, and shrugged as he glanced around. Then he lifted his hand, pulling off his sunglasses before he folds them up before he slid them inside of his jacket.
MXG: And not a ladder in sight.
He smirked, and he tapped his cane before he continued. The form of the Sheik stood in the background, silent for now as he was staring at the wall. His scarred back and shoulders moving slowly as he took deep breaths as he seemed unconcerned. And Graves continued, nodding to himself.
MXG: And into all of this walks the best combat athlete in the damned world! And I am talking about my client, the Sheik! The Great King of Terror doesn’t care if it’s a Palm Springs bingo hall, or the O2 Arena! He is going to walk into that ring, and he is going to start collecting scalps! There is going to be a bloodbath in London!
There no rules, there is no quarter! It is killed or be killed, every man for himself! And I don’t care if you are Warrick the latest flash in the pan from Crane! Or I don’t care if you’re Kasper Van Whatever, or those two clowns who want to drink from Valentine’s teat Team Fairtex! I don’t care! And the Sheik doesn’t care.
The Sheik growled, and he turned to stare at the camera. He bared his teeth, and his hands lifted to curl into claws as his wild eyes narrowed. Graves gestured with the cane, tapping his scarred chest lightly before he smirked.
MXG: Florida Man? Florida Man? You think this silly motherfucker has a chance in Hell against a man like the Sheik? This is the Great King of Terror, this man has survived the most hostile, inhuman places on earth! A place incompatible with human life, where only a precious few are allowed to thrive!
And that was just HKW! That is not even counting the Empty Quarter!
Graves laughed.
MXG: Spike Kane? Listen, if Spike gets in the way of the Sheik? He may not even make it to Buried Alive! He might be dragged out there on a stretcher, son! Do you understand what the Sheik is capable of! Do you!
And then we have the fools from Donzig-Gun, Armand-gun, whatever!
You think the Sheik gives two shits about your WUK Tag Team titles? You think the Sheik gives two shits about which sociopath you want to follow this week? No! Because the Sheik is going to deal with the entire pack of you once and for all!
Not one of you can stand up to this man without your fucking leaders!
Not one!
Graves frowned, and he tugged at his jacket before he undid the middle button. He started to say something, but then the Sheik pushed him back his fingers tangled in his jacket. He leaned closer, and he looked down to stare at his hands before he fumed.
The Sheik: kulukum! kulukum dueafa'u! laqad tama tahdhirukum jamiean! 'ana 'asir fi maerakat biritania bhthan ean aldum!
sa'udamir 'aya shakhs yaetarid tariaqi! sawf akhdh dhahab WUK! wasawf 'arfaeuh ealyaan karamz liantisari!
The Sheik spat, and he pointed an angry finger before he grabbed MXG once more. He hauled him closer, snarling as he continued in a low growl.
The Sheik: dakhil maerakat biritania, dakhil harb siltik! sa'antaqim min wisli krin! sa'aakhudh minh 'akthar ma yuhibuhu! eunwan WUK!
sa'antaqim min marti dunufan! sawf akhadh sharikahi, hadha alrajul alsihaliat al'ahmaqu!
wasa'uksiruh eind qadami! sa'adaeuh taht kaeabi!
He gestured at the camera, frowning again. MXG nodded, and stepped closer.
MXG: All of you! All of you weaklings! All of you have been warned! I am walking into Battle of Britain looking for blood!
I will destroy anyone who gets in my way! I will take the gold of WUK! And I will hold it high as a symbol of my triumph!
Inside the Battle of Britain, inside Celtic Warfare! I will have my revenge on Wesley Crane! I will take what he loves the most from him! The WUK title!
I will have my revenge on Marty Donovan! I will take his partner, this fool lizard man!
And I shall break him at my feet! I will ground him under my heel!
The Sheik sneered.
The Sheik: fi maerakat biritania, sa'afeal hadhih al'ashya'i! sa'adae 'aedayiy mnkhfdan!
sa'antasir ealayhim! sa'aeud 'iilaa HKW wa'urihim ma qumt bihi!
wasawf yakhafun!
MXG: At Battle of Britain, I will do these things! I will lay my enemies low!
I will triumph over them! I will walk back to HKW and show them what I have done!
And they will fear!
The Sheik growled once more, and then he shoved MXG back before he turned to stalk off. His fist slammed against the wall, and blood stained it before he headed off. Graves watched him, loosening his tie before he gave a shake of his head.
MXG: Valentine! Take notes, because what we do here? Is nothing compared to what we do to HKW until we get what we want!
This is the fucking Revenge Tour, kid.
