Post by Donzig on Apr 10, 2024 22:17:04 GMT -5
‘I spent a lot of time in Australia once.’
The voice growled as he stared out across the Australian desert, a fire burned before him. Sparks swirled and leapt into the air, smoke swirling away on the wind as the shadowy figure shifted in the dancing light and shadows. And then it leaned closer, and it stirred the flames which gleamed off metal inside the cowl.
Donzig looked up, and he shifted as he looked up again.
‘It was a different time, eh. But you see it was here in Oz that I began to carve out my legacy.’
A pause.
‘See what I did there?’
A burst of that horrible rasping laughter followed, and then Donzig continued as he rose to pace back and forth across the sand. Smoke and flames swirling as he walked around it absently, and he shrugged.
‘I carved out my legacy in XHF! And I became the last SWAT Hall of Famer. Because you see in less than a year I had changed this place forever. And speaking of things I changed forever? That brings me to the Slams.’
Another pause, and Donzig’s hand snapped upwards to point at the camera. He turned, and his voice hissed as he continued.
‘I made the Slams. I made the entire pack of your family famous! Ask your old man, Slam 3! By the way could we get you a better name? Fuck it, from now on I am just calling you ‘Three’! Three, ask your old man about the Classic ‘Win David Slam’s Money’!
He’ll remember it was the fucking BLOOD MONEY his piece of shit father was paid for betraying me! Well, no one, NO ONE betrays Donzig without paying for it! And even worse than his betrayal, his betrayal for t-shirt sales and merch! Because he wanted to ride the fucking coat tails of Voss! No, no, no! Worse than that!
He laid his hands on my BWA British Title!’
His eyes blazed as they reflected the fire, and he spat before he walked around the fire again. His long leather coat snapping and swirling in his wake, smoke billowing as he glared at the camera before he shook his head.
‘I was a different man then, and I loved that title. I loved that fucking title! You see I had redeemed it from such pieces of shit as Michael Windsor, from people like Triple D, from even Anthony Jordan!
And David Slam the First! Took what was mine, and he delivered it into the hands of Chris Holtz! And it was a long downward spiral of bullshit, it was a long painful decline into trash because of him!
Jonas Lee? The fucking Baron? Chris James? Gavin Drake?’
Donzig snorted.
‘And so it is fitting that in Oz, in the Land Down Under where the XHF first learned of it’s destiny to be redeemed in the shadow of Oblivion at my hands! To be destroyed and rise from the ashes! Where I first laid my fucking hands on Bloodied Fox and Death Trap of all fucking people!’
Donzig hissed, and he pointed a hand.
‘See you at the Rumble, boys. You and I have unfinished business, eh?’
A jerk of his head, and he started to pace again.
‘Here in Australia! I will lay waste to the Empire! I will break the fucking legacy of the Slams beneath my heel! I will destroy this thing that Spike Kane has made to oppose me! And it all starts with you, Three!
Do you know what they used to call me here? My name?’
Donzig’s head tilted, and he wiped a hand across the slits of his mask. And he tilted his head as he stared into the roaring flames before he lifted a hand with a flick of his fingers.
‘The Bandit King. Because I stole what I wanted, I took what I wanted, and no one! NO FUCKING ONE! Got in my way, and at Legacy! In Melbourne? I remind the entire XHF, the entire WUK, and every motherfucker in the Rumble! EVERYONE! What I am capable of!
You see Three, I am without limits! Without equals! And inside of that ring? I am your fucking God!’
A pause, and he leaned closer.
‘The NEW God.’
A hand lifted, and his fingers splayed across the mask before his hand twitched. And he pulled the mask off of his face, he stared down at it. Then he tucked it inside of his long coat, and his fingers raked through his beard as he shrugged. He crouched down beside the fire, and he swirled the logs as flames leapt higher as sparks billowed into the sky.
‘Your father says Slams are a hydra? Well, brother, you keep growing heads? You can pop up as many fucking Slams as you want! One Slam, Two Slam, Three Slam, Four! One Slam, Two Slam, Red Slam, Blue Slam!
And I will mow them the fuck down! Because you can line up a Slam in every company from JROK to the Sands! You can drag down every piece of shit hillbilly Slam from here to Holland!’
Donzig smiled a cold empty smile.
‘And I will tear the entire lot of them out! Root and fucking stem!’
He rose, and his booted foot kicked dirt across the fire. It guttered and died, smoke swirling across the darkness before he spoke again with a snarl.
‘This whole island was a prison once, Three. It was a fucking penal colony! And that means? You and the Empire are locked in here with me.’
A hiss.
‘See you soon.’
The voice growled as he stared out across the Australian desert, a fire burned before him. Sparks swirled and leapt into the air, smoke swirling away on the wind as the shadowy figure shifted in the dancing light and shadows. And then it leaned closer, and it stirred the flames which gleamed off metal inside the cowl.
Donzig looked up, and he shifted as he looked up again.
‘It was a different time, eh. But you see it was here in Oz that I began to carve out my legacy.’
A pause.
‘See what I did there?’
A burst of that horrible rasping laughter followed, and then Donzig continued as he rose to pace back and forth across the sand. Smoke and flames swirling as he walked around it absently, and he shrugged.
‘I carved out my legacy in XHF! And I became the last SWAT Hall of Famer. Because you see in less than a year I had changed this place forever. And speaking of things I changed forever? That brings me to the Slams.’
Another pause, and Donzig’s hand snapped upwards to point at the camera. He turned, and his voice hissed as he continued.
‘I made the Slams. I made the entire pack of your family famous! Ask your old man, Slam 3! By the way could we get you a better name? Fuck it, from now on I am just calling you ‘Three’! Three, ask your old man about the Classic ‘Win David Slam’s Money’!
He’ll remember it was the fucking BLOOD MONEY his piece of shit father was paid for betraying me! Well, no one, NO ONE betrays Donzig without paying for it! And even worse than his betrayal, his betrayal for t-shirt sales and merch! Because he wanted to ride the fucking coat tails of Voss! No, no, no! Worse than that!
He laid his hands on my BWA British Title!’
His eyes blazed as they reflected the fire, and he spat before he walked around the fire again. His long leather coat snapping and swirling in his wake, smoke billowing as he glared at the camera before he shook his head.
‘I was a different man then, and I loved that title. I loved that fucking title! You see I had redeemed it from such pieces of shit as Michael Windsor, from people like Triple D, from even Anthony Jordan!
And David Slam the First! Took what was mine, and he delivered it into the hands of Chris Holtz! And it was a long downward spiral of bullshit, it was a long painful decline into trash because of him!
Jonas Lee? The fucking Baron? Chris James? Gavin Drake?’
Donzig snorted.
‘And so it is fitting that in Oz, in the Land Down Under where the XHF first learned of it’s destiny to be redeemed in the shadow of Oblivion at my hands! To be destroyed and rise from the ashes! Where I first laid my fucking hands on Bloodied Fox and Death Trap of all fucking people!’
Donzig hissed, and he pointed a hand.
‘See you at the Rumble, boys. You and I have unfinished business, eh?’
A jerk of his head, and he started to pace again.
‘Here in Australia! I will lay waste to the Empire! I will break the fucking legacy of the Slams beneath my heel! I will destroy this thing that Spike Kane has made to oppose me! And it all starts with you, Three!
Do you know what they used to call me here? My name?’
Donzig’s head tilted, and he wiped a hand across the slits of his mask. And he tilted his head as he stared into the roaring flames before he lifted a hand with a flick of his fingers.
‘The Bandit King. Because I stole what I wanted, I took what I wanted, and no one! NO FUCKING ONE! Got in my way, and at Legacy! In Melbourne? I remind the entire XHF, the entire WUK, and every motherfucker in the Rumble! EVERYONE! What I am capable of!
You see Three, I am without limits! Without equals! And inside of that ring? I am your fucking God!’
A pause, and he leaned closer.
‘The NEW God.’
A hand lifted, and his fingers splayed across the mask before his hand twitched. And he pulled the mask off of his face, he stared down at it. Then he tucked it inside of his long coat, and his fingers raked through his beard as he shrugged. He crouched down beside the fire, and he swirled the logs as flames leapt higher as sparks billowed into the sky.
‘Your father says Slams are a hydra? Well, brother, you keep growing heads? You can pop up as many fucking Slams as you want! One Slam, Two Slam, Three Slam, Four! One Slam, Two Slam, Red Slam, Blue Slam!
And I will mow them the fuck down! Because you can line up a Slam in every company from JROK to the Sands! You can drag down every piece of shit hillbilly Slam from here to Holland!’
Donzig smiled a cold empty smile.
‘And I will tear the entire lot of them out! Root and fucking stem!’
He rose, and his booted foot kicked dirt across the fire. It guttered and died, smoke swirling across the darkness before he spoke again with a snarl.
‘This whole island was a prison once, Three. It was a fucking penal colony! And that means? You and the Empire are locked in here with me.’
A hiss.
‘See you soon.’
