Post by anthonycaffrey on Oct 25, 2018 5:17:25 GMT -5
Anthony Caffrey: Look, can you two at least stand out of my shot?
The camera pans out to reveal that Anthony Caffrey is standing in the ring in Dublin for End of Days, a few days before the show, and just outside of the ring are two tall, burly security guards. Caffrey is wearing his trademark glasses, his AVA t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. He looks annoyed at the guards, who are indeed in his shot and not moving.
Security: We were instructed to—
Caffrey: Yeah yeah, security threat, don’t want me ruining a joint XHF show, property damage, whatever. But I have rights! I paid for this arena access, a technician to work the sound, and for a camerman since none of our AWF guys will shoot me because I’ve been kickin’ so many people's asses. I don’t know what determines rights in your rainy and depressing ass country, but you can at least move out of my way.
Security #2: Sir, I will ask you to—
Caffrey: And another thing, Guinness? What the hell is this obsession with Guinness? I imagine that piss must taste better! I know it was first made in 1759 because every hammered Irish idiot told me so, but geez man, in 250 years people have invented drinks that have taste! Look... just move, and then after the show on Sunday, I’ll take you two out for cocktails that actually taste DELICIOUS. I swear, it’ll change your life to stop defining and priding your fragile masculinity by what’s in your cup.
The first security guard angrily moves towards the ring, but the second puts an arm out and calms him down. They move out of the way.
Caffrey: Now that the tall Irish versions of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are out of the way... let me just—
Caffrey finds the camera, clears his throat, straightens up, and turns his attention away from the guards.
Caffrey: Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to assure you that on Sunday, what you will witness is NOT a repeat. I know what you’ll be thinking. "Wait, there’s a big, tall, scary Soviet Russian freak? He’s shouting things that are basically “I will break you” while bragging about being a killer and disparaging America? And his opponent just so happens to be a scrappy Italian American with dark hair and brown eyes from the birthplace of America and the greatest city on Earth, Philadelphia? And you’re telling me they’re going to fight in a country completely foreign to the American? ANNNNDD the Russian is going to kick the American’s ass for at least a few minutes before the American ultimately gets the win in the end? Are we sure this isn’t just the plot of Rocky IV?"
Caffrey smugly shrugs his shoulders and laughs.
Caffrey: Kosloff, you’ve already lost this match. Do you know how I know? It’s how you talk about your match with Dreadvan. You “took him to the limit”. You know who talks like that? Losers. Sure, it was a disqualification victory, but you, you’re proud of that. You’re proud of not being able to get the job done properly and getting bailed out by the rules. For someone who brags so much about being a killer, that is a rather soft mindset. That is a mindset that absolutely reeks of weakness. And then don’t even get me started on your loss to Bobby. How does the former pride of Soviet Russia lose to some guy named Bobby? You got outclassed by someone with actual talent, that's how.
Caffrey: So then you turn around and try to brag about “pushing limits” to keep your credibility. You kept telling me you’re going to break me. You’re going to rip me apart. You know so many ways to snap my neck, break my back. You’re not only going to end my career, but you might kill me. You are the Natural Born Killer, after all. And you, you don’t even know who I am.
Caffrey is not just angry, he is indignant. He points at the camera.
Caffrey: Well me give you a reminder, Kosloff, because we both know you’re either lying or don’t watch the show you can’t even get booked on. I am THE MAN who has turned AXW upside down. I am the LEADER of the most dangerous faction in all of the XHF today: the AVA. We are the Arrogant Violent Assholes. That’s why no one loves me, you dumbass. I’m AN ASSHOLE! And I’m an asshole who has DECIMATED every main event guy they’ve put in front of me. I cost Raymond his Undisputed Championship. I beat Steele and his men senseless. I called out the NUMBER ONE wrestler in our company and choked him out in the MAIN EVENT while YOU couldn’t even get booked on the Anonymous TV CARD! I didn’t THINK I could jump into the title picture. I KNEW I could jump into, and to the TOP of the title picture. I have also destroyed multiple Undisputed Champions, and you can't even get a contender to spend ten minutes wrestling you. What the hell makes you think you’re even half as good as the guys I've already crushed?
Caffrey is still fuming and bitter.
Caffrey: I HATE wrestling guys like you. I really do. You're not nearly as good as those guys I just mentioned. You're just big and tall. Congrats, by the way, on being tall! Congratulations on being strong and hitting the gym! What’s your secret? I sometimes get too tired to lift after doing hours and hours of cardio to make sure that I can outlast every single loser like you on a consistent basis. You’re gonna throw my ass around this very ring, so I guess congratulations are in order for that as well. You’re not the first to do that and you won’t be the last, but you definitely will be the next to tap.
Caffrey taps into the microphone repeatedly to remind Kosloff what he'll be doing so very soon.
Caffrey: You already think you have this won, and that is your Goddamn problem. Do you know how many cocky tall dumbasses have stood in front of me and thought being a bigger guy than me means that they’ve already won? Do you know how many cocky tall dumbasses have spent their night learning how to use crutches after wrestling me? Here’s a hint: it’s a direct correlation, you seven foot four pile of shit. I have built an entire career and captured multiple World Championships off of making guys like you look like the dogshit wrestlers you actually are. Let's face it, you wouldn’t even be wrestling if you were my height, and you know it. I am the LeBron James of Wrestling, you’re a back-up center scoring six points off the bench.
Caffrey shoots an imaginary basket. Swish.
Caffrey: You keep talking like we’re gladiators, not wrestlers. You’re gonna crush my body, break my back, break my neck, break my spirt, and kill me… no, no you aren’t Kosloff. You're not going to come close to doing any of those things because I am about to completely outwrestle you on Sunday. You can be a gladiator, sure. And the truth is, I am no gladiator. That's right. I am no gladiator... because I am a Goddamn emperor. To put it bluntly, you are merely a sideshow attraction in the Colosseum that I have built. You are one of the very, very many, and I am an UnLegend. You’re about to go face to face with a master of his craft. I have spent my entire career perfecting my art, and you have spent your entire career ducking under doorways. I’m not the slightest bit intimidated by you, and I never will be. I mean after all, why on Earth would an emperor be worried about a lowly ex-soldier?
Caffrey showcases his slick, sinister showman smile. He pulls the microphone down, satisfied with his work. He then remembers the two security guards. He walks over to the corner of the ring furthest from them. He puts on his worst Irish accent.
Caffrey: Top of the evenin' to ya gentlemen, but I ain't leavin' til ya show me a better time than I showed your mums last night.
We can hear Caffrey mutter "gets them every time" as the camera catches the two security guards entering the ring. Caffrey is outnumbered, and it becomes clear that each man also has a size and weight advantage on the UnLegend. They pause for a moment, and then the first guard tries to attack Caffrey. Caffrey moves out of the way, shoving the guard's head into an exposed turnbuckle, cutting him open instantly. Caffrey then turns and blindsides the other guard with his microphone. The other guard stumbles but does not fall, at least not until he is kicked into the gut and spiked into the mat with the Brotherly Love DDT.
Caffrey waits for the guard in the corner to return to his feet. The guard does, and he notices his blood and charges Caffrey again. Caffrey quickly catches the man with a drop toe hold and locks in the CAL, Caffrey's Ankle Lock. He begins twisting the man's ankle, yelling at him to tap. The man screams in agony, but Caffrey ignores him, yelling at the man even louder to tap. After Caffrey grapevines the leg, the guard quickly submits. Caffrey keeps the hold for longer than necessary before finally relinquishing the hold and returning to his feet.
Caffrey picks his microphone back up off of the ground. He gets down low, as if he was talking to a small child, in order to meet eyes with the man whose ankle he has just broken.
Caffrey: Friendly piece of advice: make sure you get your crutches adjusted just to the right height. Too many times I see tall cocky dumbasses hobbling around and falling over because their crutches are too short.
Caffrey smiles that sinister asshole smile before walking to the back. The security guard who had been laid out tends to the guard with the broken ankle as Caffrey laughs and disappears through the curtain to the back.
The camera pans out to reveal that Anthony Caffrey is standing in the ring in Dublin for End of Days, a few days before the show, and just outside of the ring are two tall, burly security guards. Caffrey is wearing his trademark glasses, his AVA t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. He looks annoyed at the guards, who are indeed in his shot and not moving.
Security: We were instructed to—
Caffrey: Yeah yeah, security threat, don’t want me ruining a joint XHF show, property damage, whatever. But I have rights! I paid for this arena access, a technician to work the sound, and for a camerman since none of our AWF guys will shoot me because I’ve been kickin’ so many people's asses. I don’t know what determines rights in your rainy and depressing ass country, but you can at least move out of my way.
Security #2: Sir, I will ask you to—
Caffrey: And another thing, Guinness? What the hell is this obsession with Guinness? I imagine that piss must taste better! I know it was first made in 1759 because every hammered Irish idiot told me so, but geez man, in 250 years people have invented drinks that have taste! Look... just move, and then after the show on Sunday, I’ll take you two out for cocktails that actually taste DELICIOUS. I swear, it’ll change your life to stop defining and priding your fragile masculinity by what’s in your cup.
The first security guard angrily moves towards the ring, but the second puts an arm out and calms him down. They move out of the way.
Caffrey: Now that the tall Irish versions of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are out of the way... let me just—
Caffrey finds the camera, clears his throat, straightens up, and turns his attention away from the guards.
Caffrey: Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to assure you that on Sunday, what you will witness is NOT a repeat. I know what you’ll be thinking. "Wait, there’s a big, tall, scary Soviet Russian freak? He’s shouting things that are basically “I will break you” while bragging about being a killer and disparaging America? And his opponent just so happens to be a scrappy Italian American with dark hair and brown eyes from the birthplace of America and the greatest city on Earth, Philadelphia? And you’re telling me they’re going to fight in a country completely foreign to the American? ANNNNDD the Russian is going to kick the American’s ass for at least a few minutes before the American ultimately gets the win in the end? Are we sure this isn’t just the plot of Rocky IV?"
Caffrey smugly shrugs his shoulders and laughs.
Caffrey: Kosloff, you’ve already lost this match. Do you know how I know? It’s how you talk about your match with Dreadvan. You “took him to the limit”. You know who talks like that? Losers. Sure, it was a disqualification victory, but you, you’re proud of that. You’re proud of not being able to get the job done properly and getting bailed out by the rules. For someone who brags so much about being a killer, that is a rather soft mindset. That is a mindset that absolutely reeks of weakness. And then don’t even get me started on your loss to Bobby. How does the former pride of Soviet Russia lose to some guy named Bobby? You got outclassed by someone with actual talent, that's how.
Caffrey: So then you turn around and try to brag about “pushing limits” to keep your credibility. You kept telling me you’re going to break me. You’re going to rip me apart. You know so many ways to snap my neck, break my back. You’re not only going to end my career, but you might kill me. You are the Natural Born Killer, after all. And you, you don’t even know who I am.
Caffrey is not just angry, he is indignant. He points at the camera.
Caffrey: Well me give you a reminder, Kosloff, because we both know you’re either lying or don’t watch the show you can’t even get booked on. I am THE MAN who has turned AXW upside down. I am the LEADER of the most dangerous faction in all of the XHF today: the AVA. We are the Arrogant Violent Assholes. That’s why no one loves me, you dumbass. I’m AN ASSHOLE! And I’m an asshole who has DECIMATED every main event guy they’ve put in front of me. I cost Raymond his Undisputed Championship. I beat Steele and his men senseless. I called out the NUMBER ONE wrestler in our company and choked him out in the MAIN EVENT while YOU couldn’t even get booked on the Anonymous TV CARD! I didn’t THINK I could jump into the title picture. I KNEW I could jump into, and to the TOP of the title picture. I have also destroyed multiple Undisputed Champions, and you can't even get a contender to spend ten minutes wrestling you. What the hell makes you think you’re even half as good as the guys I've already crushed?
Caffrey is still fuming and bitter.
Caffrey: I HATE wrestling guys like you. I really do. You're not nearly as good as those guys I just mentioned. You're just big and tall. Congrats, by the way, on being tall! Congratulations on being strong and hitting the gym! What’s your secret? I sometimes get too tired to lift after doing hours and hours of cardio to make sure that I can outlast every single loser like you on a consistent basis. You’re gonna throw my ass around this very ring, so I guess congratulations are in order for that as well. You’re not the first to do that and you won’t be the last, but you definitely will be the next to tap.
Caffrey taps into the microphone repeatedly to remind Kosloff what he'll be doing so very soon.
Caffrey: You already think you have this won, and that is your Goddamn problem. Do you know how many cocky tall dumbasses have stood in front of me and thought being a bigger guy than me means that they’ve already won? Do you know how many cocky tall dumbasses have spent their night learning how to use crutches after wrestling me? Here’s a hint: it’s a direct correlation, you seven foot four pile of shit. I have built an entire career and captured multiple World Championships off of making guys like you look like the dogshit wrestlers you actually are. Let's face it, you wouldn’t even be wrestling if you were my height, and you know it. I am the LeBron James of Wrestling, you’re a back-up center scoring six points off the bench.
Caffrey shoots an imaginary basket. Swish.
Caffrey: You keep talking like we’re gladiators, not wrestlers. You’re gonna crush my body, break my back, break my neck, break my spirt, and kill me… no, no you aren’t Kosloff. You're not going to come close to doing any of those things because I am about to completely outwrestle you on Sunday. You can be a gladiator, sure. And the truth is, I am no gladiator. That's right. I am no gladiator... because I am a Goddamn emperor. To put it bluntly, you are merely a sideshow attraction in the Colosseum that I have built. You are one of the very, very many, and I am an UnLegend. You’re about to go face to face with a master of his craft. I have spent my entire career perfecting my art, and you have spent your entire career ducking under doorways. I’m not the slightest bit intimidated by you, and I never will be. I mean after all, why on Earth would an emperor be worried about a lowly ex-soldier?
Caffrey showcases his slick, sinister showman smile. He pulls the microphone down, satisfied with his work. He then remembers the two security guards. He walks over to the corner of the ring furthest from them. He puts on his worst Irish accent.
Caffrey: Top of the evenin' to ya gentlemen, but I ain't leavin' til ya show me a better time than I showed your mums last night.
We can hear Caffrey mutter "gets them every time" as the camera catches the two security guards entering the ring. Caffrey is outnumbered, and it becomes clear that each man also has a size and weight advantage on the UnLegend. They pause for a moment, and then the first guard tries to attack Caffrey. Caffrey moves out of the way, shoving the guard's head into an exposed turnbuckle, cutting him open instantly. Caffrey then turns and blindsides the other guard with his microphone. The other guard stumbles but does not fall, at least not until he is kicked into the gut and spiked into the mat with the Brotherly Love DDT.
Caffrey waits for the guard in the corner to return to his feet. The guard does, and he notices his blood and charges Caffrey again. Caffrey quickly catches the man with a drop toe hold and locks in the CAL, Caffrey's Ankle Lock. He begins twisting the man's ankle, yelling at him to tap. The man screams in agony, but Caffrey ignores him, yelling at the man even louder to tap. After Caffrey grapevines the leg, the guard quickly submits. Caffrey keeps the hold for longer than necessary before finally relinquishing the hold and returning to his feet.
Caffrey picks his microphone back up off of the ground. He gets down low, as if he was talking to a small child, in order to meet eyes with the man whose ankle he has just broken.
Caffrey: Friendly piece of advice: make sure you get your crutches adjusted just to the right height. Too many times I see tall cocky dumbasses hobbling around and falling over because their crutches are too short.
Caffrey smiles that sinister asshole smile before walking to the back. The security guard who had been laid out tends to the guard with the broken ankle as Caffrey laughs and disappears through the curtain to the back.
