Post by Donzig on Sept 16, 2024 18:30:13 GMT -5
‘Syndicate Wrestling and Tradition.’
The voice purred from the darkness, and then the camera focused on Donzig. He sat in the shadows, and around him rose a tangle of rusted pipes. They dripped and steamed in the ancient stone basement, and Donzig stared at his hands. Then he reached over to lift the X-Crown Championship, holding it up.
‘No one knows what those words mean anymore, Goth. No one knows, no one cares, and no one gives two fucks, eh? They don’t care, but you and I? Oh, we know, we understand! They are burned into our memories! They are part of our legacy! And as I look down at this X-Crown title, this title that has been the end all and be all of my existence for the last four years!’
Donzig stared at it, then rose with a shrug.
‘But the things I have done in it’s name ring hollow, unless I redeem this title! Unless I make it mean that it represents the very best in the XHF! Unless I remake it in my image, and the X-Crown once again means something!
And so Goth, I have demanded that you face me for it! That on the eve of Battle of Britain Three, the last two survivors of SWAT face each other in a war for the richest prize in the XHF!’
Donzig stared into the shadows, turning towards the darkness as he looked upwards as he hissed.
‘The Demon of XHF vs. the Dragon of WUK! The Bandit King vs. the Serpent! The King of Hell vs. the King of the Death Matches! No holds fucking barred! And to the winner?’
Donzig turned, and he held the belt at the camera.
‘The fucking spoils.’
He draped it across his shoulder, and shrugged before he stroked it with his fingers. Head tilting, and he spat before he walked off scene.
‘See you soon.’
The voice purred from the darkness, and then the camera focused on Donzig. He sat in the shadows, and around him rose a tangle of rusted pipes. They dripped and steamed in the ancient stone basement, and Donzig stared at his hands. Then he reached over to lift the X-Crown Championship, holding it up.
‘No one knows what those words mean anymore, Goth. No one knows, no one cares, and no one gives two fucks, eh? They don’t care, but you and I? Oh, we know, we understand! They are burned into our memories! They are part of our legacy! And as I look down at this X-Crown title, this title that has been the end all and be all of my existence for the last four years!’
Donzig stared at it, then rose with a shrug.
‘But the things I have done in it’s name ring hollow, unless I redeem this title! Unless I make it mean that it represents the very best in the XHF! Unless I remake it in my image, and the X-Crown once again means something!
And so Goth, I have demanded that you face me for it! That on the eve of Battle of Britain Three, the last two survivors of SWAT face each other in a war for the richest prize in the XHF!’
Donzig stared into the shadows, turning towards the darkness as he looked upwards as he hissed.
‘The Demon of XHF vs. the Dragon of WUK! The Bandit King vs. the Serpent! The King of Hell vs. the King of the Death Matches! No holds fucking barred! And to the winner?’
Donzig turned, and he held the belt at the camera.
‘The fucking spoils.’
He draped it across his shoulder, and shrugged before he stroked it with his fingers. Head tilting, and he spat before he walked off scene.
‘See you soon.’
