Zooming out, and panning to the side somewhat, Hans von Richtoven comes into view; himself fully engrossed in the scenes unfolding below him.
After a few moments, he sees the camera’s reflection in the glass, and with a relaxed air to him, slowly turns around, setting himself onto the ledge, dropping his arms to his side, and gripping the edge for stability.
Attired in a casual outfit of dark grey cargo pants, blue Geox Red Bull sneakers and a white t-shirt featuring a rather abstract set of lines and markings on it down the left side, he allows the camera to focus on him, before beginning.
(Hans): Well, the hours remaining until I get in the squared circle with you Bryan are rapidly diminishing. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been quiet of late myself, so I don’t really have a leg to stand on here, but I’d have thought that you’d have said something by now about this match.
He purses his lips, flicking his tongue out to wet them somewhat, before continuing.
(Hans): Isn’t this the sort of match that you’ve been clamouring for for months now? True, it’s not a title match, but given that you’re facing someone at the peak of the pecking order, it’s definitely a match far removed from your usual standard of opponent…
Smirking, he flashes a loaded wink at the camera; he makes clear the meaning behind his words…
(Hans): This is your big chance Bryan. You’re regarded as a joke, and have been for years. Even before I left HWA back in 2005, you were a joke, and when I returned in 2009, to standing here now, entering the latter part of 2011, you’ve still not been able to un-tar yourself from that label. Certainly over the last two years, every time you’ve piped up, it’s been to issue a challenge, or declare that you’re going after a title… only for it to never actually come to pass.
But here you are, at this Havoc, facing off against me. I’m the veritable yard stick for this company some might say, and for that reason, alongside what else I’ve said, if that’s not an incentive for you to get your act together and start finally delivering, then I don’t know what is…
He removes his right hand from its grip on the ledge, and slides it into his pocket, thumb protruding out and angled down towards the floor. Not missing a beat, he carries on.
(Hans): We’ve not faced each other before Bryan, to the best of my knowledge. I’m not going to approach this like some of the others who’ve faced you over the last few months as. I’m not going to air a promo which amounts to little more than me laughing, and then switching the camera off. I’m not going to assume that the win is automatically mine; because it’s not. Yes, I’m odds on favourite, and for good reason, but we have your ex-partner acting as referee, and since he’s taken to trying to crawl his way back into the spotlight by associating himself with my name, I don’t think either of us can really do anything but keep one eye on each other, and one on him…
With a mock sigh of weariness, he allows his head to shake gently from side to side.
(Hans): And speaking of him… Antoninio, just exactly what are you trying to achieve with your little misogynistic rants? Are they to boost your confidence and self esteem? To cover up some inadequacy? Honestly, please, enlighten us.
I’ll be honest; I don’t really know you Antoninio. I look at what’s happened to you, your brother being killed at the hands of Senester all those years ago, inexplicably re-appearing on the scene a few weeks ago and then playing the vanishing act. The constant mind games being played by Senester and even Bryan Deas over the past year… I believe I even caught one of your promos where you found that you were heir to a fortune… or am I thinking of someone else?
A look of puzzlement flashes across his face, as he ponders for a moment, before dismissing it, and carrying on.
(Hans): At any rate, I feel… pity, I guess, when I look at you Antoninio. I feel regret that you continually belittle me and Vanessa, take exception to what I say… normally having caused me to utter such words in the first place mind you, or taking things completely out of context. That you laid a finger on her, caused her to ‘taste you’… well, I left you lying in the middle of the ring, choked out and seeing stars… I think the lesson in that will be lost on you though.
Pray tell though, how exactly did my beloved cost you the match Antoninio? She was at the announcers table the entire time. Besides perhaps turning the air blue off-mic, and cheering for me, I don’t think she did anything to physically influence the result of the match…
The camera pans out, revealing that outside the VIP room, and in the arena proper, the large electronic scoreboard hung from the ceiling is now showing the match…
Hans glances over his shoulder, as the various workers below cease their activity, and look up to follow the action, allowing several minutes to pass before speaking.
(Hans): As you can see Maniac, the only ones in that ring are you, my good self, and the referee…
Point made, the camera focuses once more on Hans.
(Hans): So you’re sick of playing games with me though are you Antoninio? Good. Likewise. Again though, I have to bring up that you were the one that began this all, and in fact, are the only one ‘playing’, so don’t go acting the victim. Speaking of such, I ‘attacked’ you did I? When? After you got disqualified for hitting me with a steel chair? Oh please, suck it up Maniac. You come in the ring and blindside me with a fireball, assault my girlfriend, and then go and attack me with a chair, and then want to cry foul over being choked out at the end of all that?
He scoffs loudly, disgust evident in his eyes.
(Hans): I think you’d be best to pay attention to Logan Neilson’s words, what was it again? Ah, ‘silence is golden’… you might come out of this with whatever dignity you have left intact.
I’m not afraid of you Antoninio. Choking you out at the end of the match was a small measure of revenge for the way that you’ve acted in an unprovoked manner towards me and my loved ones of late, and the words that you’ve said. But if you want to believe that I’m running scared, then please, let’s not let the truth get in the way!
I’m going to lose this match, am I? Well Maniac, I think it says it all really, that the only way you can cause such a thing to happen to me, is to not be the one facing me, but the one in the striped shirt…
Oh, one last thing. That ‘pitiful little title reign’, is more than you’ve ever accomplished my friend. Try not to choke on that fact too hard, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on refereeing mine and Bryan’s match…
The scene fades out to black gently, as Hans walks off camera.
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