"And it shall come to pass, that as the LORD rejoiced over you to do you good, and to multiply you; so the LORD will rejoice over you to destroy you, and to bring you to nought; and ye shall be plucked from off the land whither thou goest to possess it." (Deuteronomy 28:63)
A large room somewhere within Dark Horse Towers is dark, on the wall is projected the image of Butch Parker, Michael James, Stu-E Price, Bryan Deas, Freddie Styles, Judas Mercury, Chuckles the Clwon, Fallen, Buff Bridges and Santa Claus. There is a reflection on the black marble floor and the echo of Senester’s Tistoni’s as he walks into the room and stands in front of the wall. All you can see is his silhouette against the wall of images. He stands poised with his hands tucked behind him.
(Senester): The HWA roster, an assembly of some of the industry’s best stars, and some of its worst. A timeless and delicate balance indeed.
Butch Parker
(Senester): As I watch the replay of Havoc I regret in the idea of once hoping to have you stand beside me Mr. Parker. It would have been glorious, yet two weeks ago at Blood, Sweat and Tears and seeing you at Havoc you only vindicate my previous counsel. The Rampant Lion has roared his last roar, and to think, it is not I who have brought you to your knees, but one woman, and your daughter. Two Delilah’s and a helpless Samson. They may be everything your heart desires, but they will never quell the hunger or quench the thirst of your soul. It belongs to the squared circle, this industry and all it entails…and that a you know belongs to me, thus your soul in the palm of my hands and I’ll dangle the World Title before you like a carrot to a horse, while you proclaim you couldn’t care less. You’ll claim you’ve already proven yourself in the ring, that your concerns are now with your family, but you’ll only be lying to yourself…no one else is going to be believe you. Competitiveness is in your blood, it is a part of your soul that I hold hostage knowing that you’ve had your title shot, you lost at Blood, Sweat & Tears, and I will never give you another.
Michael James
(Senester): Mr. James, few words you and I have spoken since you came to HWA, and a conversation is rather overdue, after all we are the proverbial measuring stick of this industry and from one champion to another…change is not on the horizon. All eyes are on you and the All Star Championship, and Bryan Deas is staking his claim to the title. You must forgive him, there is a pressure of air that reaches his tongue and teeth, then his lips part and words come out that he has no idea of what they are. He speaks uncontrollably, and we cannot hold his feeble mind responsible for what comes out…that responsibility we place upon his person. As I have countless times, and shall again should I even allow him to claim his World Title shot…I have no doubt that you will leave him a ravaged lump if flesh in the center of the ring.
Stu-E Price
(Senester): Mr. Price, the wrestling world believes fortune has smiled upon you. The fans, the media, and your peers envy you, but I do not. You don’t even know what you have. You haven’t the faintest idea what Shevington gave you at Havoc. It may look like the HWA Tag Team Championship, and it appears to be a wonderful opportunity for you to select your own Tag Team Partner, but it is not. What you pulled from the Black Box was not a prize Mr. Price. What you have been given is a curse, a burden you shall now bear. Look at the history of the Tag Team Championship, it is a disease that surfaces and runs wild intermittently and then disappears. You have a dilemma, and it is not who to choose as your partner, but what excuse to make when you fail at resuscitating dead gold. To that end, you must still choose wisely, for your partner will become a failure as well, and it will have been you who set him up for the inevitable fall.
Bryan Deas
(Senester): I have something you want. Be it not for the contract granting you a return match, you wouldn’t come within a centimeter of the World Title. I once refereed to you as a jester, the man in HWA that merely entertained me. Now you bore me, trying to climb a greased ladder in one futile attempt after another. Simply because you get your footing every once in a while, doesn’t give credit to your abilities. It merely notes the true existence of luck. I can’t wait for Havoc to watch you hobble to the ring, and face Michael James. That sledge hammer that made unfortunate contact with your leg surely put a damper on your week, but the good news is…you that long awaited title shot you wanted. What Michael James does to you at Havoc is going to be as gentle as when Parker’s daughter brushes the hair on her first Barbie doll compared to what I do to you. You keep that in mind as you prepare to face me. I want you to remember it when you bow at my feet and beg for mercy of God, and the salvation of your soul.
Freddie Styles
(Senester): Ambition in capable men is an admirable trait, and you have had mine Mr. Styles since you arrived in HWA. The lone wolf of few words, whose mission is to rise to the top of this industry, and to gain the recognition, and status your mentor could never fully claim. You have earned a shot at the World Title, but be warned…there are two kinds of ambition and most have fallen to the other side of a very fine line. Beware…Blind ambition for it is the downfall of foolish men. Some men’s mirrors lie to them, showing them things that are not there when they looks into it. You know of those I speak. In the spirit of competition, I’ll overlook your paltry comment about our pending encounter and having Parker do my…what was it you said… “dirty work.” When we do meet in the ring I assure you…I want you at your best. In fact, I may take it upon myself to insure that you remain in top form until then. When we meet, and I retain my title, your lips should part in praise, not blasphemous excuses and ill-conceived conjectures.
Judas Mercury
(Senester): The former enigma of HWA…former All Star Champion, Judas Mercury. You’re just a former bit of everything aren’t you? What an entrance you made, what a rise in the ranks, and what a decline you are undertaking, but enough about you. We know how you are doing these days, it’s a rather boring take so tell me about Alice. How is she? How is her memory? Has she remembered anything? Her name, your name? Something? I have some experience in these areas. Dark Horse as you know is a conglomerate of companies, each advanced beyond the resources of let us say “traditional” means. I can help you. I can give her back to you. All you have to do is ask. Ask me Judas Mercury and ye shall receive. Or you pretend to be me and play God in your sin of greed as others before you have. Take her as she is, an empty lump of flesh and fill her with your own design, or at least try to. I must warn you though, that route always ends badly, and they always hate you for it, just ask Bryan Deas.
Chuckles the Clown
(Senester): You’ve been fairly quiet as of late, but your presence has been felt nonetheless has it not Chuckles? Your CTV continues to make waves, and it is rare to find a talent with a physical thresh such as yours. Blood, Sweat & Tears found you in the unexpected position of playing Judas’ game with teapots, on this night…fresh with vengeance in his mind he won but it was easily your match to have. The All Star Championship now lies with Michael James, and what an interesting match-up that would make. In any event… I’m looking forward for your return to the ring. A man with no limits can be of great value to me, and sooner or later I may have a business offer for you.
Fallen
(Senester): It appears that the countdown has revealed most interesting results. Mr. Angel, “welcome back” would be the appropriate greeting, but before I offer well wishes I must ask a simple question…Why are you back? Are you finally prepared for immortality? My ever watchful eyes have followed you for years driving in circles and its pleasing to see you this time standing alone. No Draconis, no Legion, no Basher, no Finn, no Grunge, no excess baggage holding you back in an revolving door of lackluster tag teams. I warned you of them, I tried nudging you once before down a different path the word of God was but a whisper in your ear amidst their noise. Ever the father figure you were to them, the best friend, the confidant, the brother, saving nothing for yourself. The accident that left you out of action all this time, the car crash that found you lying on the side of the road…perhaps it was a blessing. Did it ever occur to you that Shakir was doing the Lords work? Did you ever ask in your recovery “why?” This is a new beginning Mr. Angel, the weight of those once around you has been lifted, and this time around, after four years of wallowing in a bleak career plateau your foot has stepped forward instead of backward…one step closer to immortality, and again I will be watching.
Buff Bridges
(Senester): Then there is you Buff. You probably thought that just like everyone else I had forgotten about you, but I wouldn’t neglect my brother, my oldest rival, my oldest friend. You remind me of an old, famous painting in a museum. Once upon a time you were marveled over, but then the excitement ended. You will always be a work of art, you have earned and achieved immortality, and others will always be compared to you, but the thrill is gone. When you walk to the ring and hear the fans cheer your name it is not excitement, it a measure of respect nothing more. When your name is on the card next to anyone, your opponents knows they are in for a fight, a test of their skills against a legend, the icon of HWA even, but they also know that they can beat you. At Havoc you face the returning Fallen, and in many ways you are in similar situations. Two men whose light does not shine, while his was never truly lit, yours faded out. At Havoc I wonder what side the spark will fall upon Buff. One small ember to ignite Fallen’s dormant light, or to rekindle yours?
Santa Claus
(Senester): Last but not least there is you Mr. Claus. Where do I begin with you? This will be our third encounter in the ring. The first time we met, naturally I defeated you. The second, you were spared the humiliation of defeat by the match being changed midway into a tag team match…where you lost yet again, yet technically it was Heinrich von Richtoven who took the fall. In a matter of days we meet for the third time, and you can expect no different outcome than any time before. You’re here to entertain the fans. Your fun, you give out merchandise which comes from your paycheck I must add. You make them laugh, smile and they enjoy seeing you so they pay to see you. You make me money Santa Claus, your sultry wife makes me money just standing around looking pretty and provocative for horny fans trying to get a look up her little skirt or a fumbling photo of her bust. Ride into Havoc on your sleigh, and know that you cannot beat me. You don’t possess the prowess, or the intellect to place me in a compromising position, so the best you can hope for other than defeat is a brush with the divine. I’ll see you soon Claus.
Senester turns and walks out of the room, the same echo of his shoes against the floor and the projection on the wall goes black.
Message Thread
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