(Gabriel): Seems you're subtle jibes on the drive from LA to Portland managed to light a fire under that boy's ass, brother.
Michael laughs through his nose, a smirk forming on his angelic face as he turns to face his brother.
(Michael): Appears so. Tell the camera crew to the get the recording equipment ready, I think this kid needs some of our undivided attention before Road to Ruin.
(Gabriel): No problem.
About ten minutes later, both brothers are facing the camera. Gabriel's body is facing side-on as he sits perched on the arm of the hotel room's couch. Michael leans against a wall, left leg crossed over the right and his arms folded.
(Michael): Well, Mister Anarchist Vampire, I'd say it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance but I sure as hell know you won't reciprocate. But for manners' sake, allow us to formally introduce ourselves. My name is Michael and this…
Michael, eyes still focused on the camera, inclines his head behind him in Gabriel's direction.
(Michael): …is my younger brother, Gabriel.
Gabriel doesn't say anything, his face impassive, eyes narrowed.
(Michael): We'll try and keep this as short and sweet as possible as to keep up with your short attention span and the fact that both my brother and I are extremely exhausted after our trip.
Forgive us if we seemed so dismissive of your obvious talents, Mister Vampire and we also apologise for whatever seems to have gotten your father's blood boiling so bad, but that's just too damn bad. You see, Mister Vampire, you have not exactly done a lot in your short tenure with this company to instil any real fear into us. You have become a lackey of the Sons of the Anarchy, a rag-tag group of individuals we seen off in our very first HWA match. Your partner has even yet to acknowledge both yourself and the fact that he has two matches on the card at the pay-per-view. This match is a lost cause for your Mister Vampire, and it's high time you realised that.
A moment of silence transpires as Michael takes a back seat, taking a glance at his brother who turns to face the camera.
(Gabriel): Anarchist Vampire….hmmm….
Gabriel mulls over the words, repeating them over again several times.
(Gabriel): Anarchist….Vampire……Anarchist Vampire….I'm wondering how you came up with such an original ring moniker. Did you just type two of the most clichéd and threatening-sounding words you could think of and just put them together? Your superimposed Photoshop artwork of you sticking out of a wrestling ring post doesn't intimidate us any more than your empty threats. You have no basis in which to centre your skills on and nothing to compare it to and absolutely nothing to threaten us with.
And if you think you have some sort of knowledge of the two of us thanks to a stupid little Google Search on the biblical origins of our names, you have once again overshot your mark because we are completely one hundred percent different from what you may have read or think you know. We are worse. You can bring all the Hell you want to Havoc, but rest it assured those fires will be quickly and mercilessly extinguished by an Angelic Execution and some Divine Intervention.
Gabriel looks at Michael who gives him a knowing nod of his head.
(Gabriel): We're done. We'll see you and your partner at Havoc, Vamp, but it won't last long.
The scene finishes and fades out with Michael and Gabriel walking off camera.
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