" Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed” (Job 38:11)
Upon his desk is a glass of fine cognac, the World Title, a screen on the back wall is split into others with news reports, current stock trades, HWA television and various other things. At his desk he selects some interviews from wrestling editorials with their absurd predictions and rumors.
(Senester): I’ve been asked why you have been subjected to a match for the World Title at Havoc Bryan Deas. I’ve been accused of tyranny for forcing a severely injured man to compete when he shouldn’t be. I’ve been questioned in my motivations for this match. The limitations of comprehension are unfortunate for mortal man. Anyone with clarity of thought would realize the complete opposite of what is being reported.
You’ve asked for this match. Week after week remarking on your overdue World Heavyweight Championship rematch, and so I have finally given it to you. There are those in this industry considered legends who have never even had the opportunity to wrestle for the world title and all I hear about is the insignificance of your leg injury, where others with no limbs at all would be grateful to step into the ring for just one shot where you have had several. Then my motives are dared brought into question. My very benevolence in granting this match is frowned upon like a plague more than the act of graciousness that it is.
Senester watches on the screen, footage from Havoc where Deas was being helped from the ring, barely standing at all.
(Senester): At Havoc Bryan Deas, you should have the worlds envy, not their pity, at least until the end of the match. Not for me, but for you and for those who believe in you, who support you…for you I intend to validate my reign as World Heavyweight Champion. When Buff Bridges and Michael Dredge stole my title and gave it to you, you didn’t defeat me. When I exercised my rematch, I corrected the mistake of their intrusion and put things back where they belonged. This time Bryan Deas, this time I solidify this title around my waist, and I forever erase your name in the column of its contention. I am more that World Champion…I am the Eternal Champion. This belt will remain with me forever, and as such, you will join Parker on the list of those who shall never come close enough to read my name upon the plate.
Make no mistake Mr. Deas, I am not underestimating you. Like animals men prove to be their most dangerous when wounded. Nonetheless, your absolute best will always succumb to me regardless of how much or how little effort I exert in dispatching you. What you need to think about is your future, your life, your ability to make a living. I’m going to exploit your injury, that is a given, but I will allow you to decide how you leave the ring. You may very well leave of your own will, and slump your way in defeat back to the locker room, that is if you keep your mouth shut, and bend upon your one good knee acknowledging your lord and master before you, and accepting my punishment for your ambitious sins of greed and pride. Go home to mend, to return to the ring and continue life as you know it. Or, I can destroy you. I can grind and break your brittle bones so terribly your only option of survival itself would be amputation. You’ll still have left what little your name is worth and can overcharge for your leftover memorabilia on eBay to supplement your social security and disability checks.
Senester snickers to himself, a fiendish grin on his face as takes a sip of cognac and places the glass back onto the table.
(Senester): The last words you spoke at Havoc were of your victory. You should have saved your breath. You should have looked around you at how the events of the evening aligned like stars to foretell your future. Stu-E Price who wisely chose against you as a partner, albeit not for the reasons he gave in a feeble attempt to spare your feelings. Strike One. The unlucky draw in the tag team match where you had to stare him face to face alongside Freddie Styles who is obvious to all a superior choice to you. Strike Two. Your long awaited return match for the All Star Championship where Michael James served you your third strike. You were out Deas, but again I blessed you with opportunity.
Just like the entrants of the special Olympics you’ll come to Havoc with support based on pure sympathy. You’ll walk the aisle as if you really are and can do something of significance when everyone knows it’s all for show, and if not for social pleasantries they would laugh in your face for even trying. Ask your “friend” Stu-E if he thinks you have a chance of winning, he who wouldn’t even select you as a tag partner. Ask the doctors who have said you shouldn’t be walking let alone actively competing in the ring. Ask your other peers who know your track record as the mat upon which they’ve all wiped their feet. When you have had your fill of reality, ask yourself…how you ever managed to allow words of victory to escape your mouth when deep in your soul you know you cannot win.
Another sip of cognac and flick of the screen he brings up some still shots from Bryan Deas winning the World Title from him.
(Senester): This time will be slightly different from before. I’m making sure everyone is banned from ringside. Anyone even attempting to interfere in the match will be immediately subdued. Any employee of HWA who does so will be fired, and sued for breach of contract. In light of recent events in Boston we must be vigilant in our security measures, any individual otherwise crossing the barrier will be shot on sight, for the safety of others of course. There will be only three. A referee, God, and the poor man who dared to step into the ring to face him.
Senester rubs his ringers across the World Title and grins at his reflection in the gold as the scene fades to black.
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