Speaker: Guten tag, bra-zers.
Crowd of Nazis: Guten tag. Heil Hitler!
Speaker: Ves, ves, hail Hitler. Today as all are avare, we are gathered here to announce ze latest nominee for ze the next chosen Fuhrer. As you know, a lot of research has gone into zis choice so we hope it settles with everyone here. So without further ado, I present to you, the pride of Germany and next Fuhrer to lead us into global domination over the obnoxious Juden…
* The speaker walks towards the large covered object. He grabs the tarp and quickly removes it revealing a large scaled image of… *
Speaker: DAS BUTCH PARKER!
* The crowd of Nazis begins to loudly cheer upon sight of Butch Parker. Only seconds into their celebration, the image of Butch goes up in flames to the surprise of the Nazi supporters *
Random Nazi: NEIN! Gefällig sein!
* The burning image falls down on top of a few of the Nazis causing them to scatter. They start rolling on the ground in an effort to extinguish their clothing while screaming in agony *
Random Nazi: Bitte rette uns, Mein Parker!
* The speaker of the group rushes in with a bucket of water and tosses it onto the fire, causing the flames to burst and explode from reaction to the liquid. He quickly moves back with an expression of confusion, barely missing expose to the rising flames. He notices a label smeared across the side of the bucket *
Speaker: Was zum teufel?! Kerosene?!!
* He tosses the bucket aside and starts trying to stomp the flame, setting both of his shoes on fire in the process. A static glitch interrupts the feed, cutting the scene to a private office where the footage is found playing on the monitor of a laptop computer. The sound of laughter is heard along with a looming cloud of cigar smoke while the Nazis continue to extinguish the burning image of Butch Parker. And just as the laughter comes to a halt the cameras move towards the corner of the room where Michael James is found seated behind the desk with the HWA World Championship draped over his shoulder. He takes another drag from the cigar and exhales the smoke through his nostrils before turning his attention away from the laptop *
Michael James: A while back I heard someone say that laughter is the key to securing happiness. And despite the quote’s origin or meaning dating back to ancient generations that came before us, it still sounds like a load of shit to me. Over time I’ve learned the only way to find true happiness is through constant determination no matter what type of obstacles people decide to throw in front of me. I’ve always had an overly morbid sense of humor so I find a unique sense of comedy in things that other people find appalling. I know it might not be morally correct in the eyes of judgmental people like Butch and Wisdom Parker, but that’s only because they will always serve as the everlasting punchline of the entire company. I ruined their lives out of sheer boredom and have yet to show an ounce of remorse because it was funny for me. When Wisdom thought it was a good idea to test my abilities I did exactly what I said I would do and put her down like a ####ing dog. Sure, coming from the dimwitted perspective of a cracked out racist transvestite my actions would be considered demeaning and cruel. For me, it was nothing more than a chance to score a few laughs by teaching Wisdom a serious lesson in the process. The only part that I truly have problems understanding is why the b###h is so eager to repeat history once again, simply for the sake of bragging rights she isn’t going to earn. I’ve been the undefeated HWA World Champion for a solid year since I took the title from Butch and I don’t plan on losing it anytime soon. Especially to a washed out b###h that has more interest in his unavoidable retirement than he does his own career. Butch isn’t a champion anymore. He isn’t the Rampant Lion. He doesn't have superhuman abilities so that means he isn’t going to make lighting strike no matter how much smoke he blows out of his ass. I told the world I was destined to put an end to Parker and that’s exactly what I did. I’ve been in the HWA since 2013 and I’ve managed to do more with my time than Butch has in the last decade. You know what that means?
* He says while ashing the tip of his cigar in a nearby tray *
Michael James: It means I have nothing left to prove to Butch and Wisdom Parker. Anything they spit from this point on is nothing more to me than pointless hearsay because they have had more than enough chances to change the outcome of this rivalry. Deep down I think they both knew they couldn’t get the job done and that’s why they’re so ####ing desperate to score a single win over the Personification of Perfection. They want to do something neither one of them are capable of doing so they can walk away with some kind of dignity. I took that from them because it was fun for me. I purposely ripped apart the fabric of their pathetic family to show them why pissing me off was not a good idea. Yet, here we are close to a year later and they’re still stuck in the exact same spot where I left them. B###hing, moaning, crying; baiting me with meaningless words and empty promises in hopes that I actually give a shit. They’ve spent years trying to get under my skin with no results and now they think the Lion’s Den match at Road to Ruin is going to be the difference maker. Realistically, it doesn’t matter what kind of environment or setting they want to pick because I’m still Michael James and he’s still the same piece of shit that understands the meaning of loss better than anyone else. Thanks to Michael James, Butch understands what it means to live in a state of consistent denial. Thanks to me, he can comprehend the reality of what it’s like to live in a state of bitter depression. For years he walked around with a false sense of self accomplishment knowing he was the big fish in the little pond. Then I came along and changed things for the better. I forced the HWA to take pride in the spirit of competition instead of pushing some overzealous bastard that could barely wipe his own ass without proper assistance.
* He leans back in his chair while exhaling a cloud of smoke from his nostrils *
Michael James: Unlike Butch, I brought an unorthodox style of intimidation that placed me at the center of attention with every promo I cut. When I had something to say people would drop what they were doing and listen because they knew I was different from all the others. I was brash, vulgar and demanding, the kind of competition that Butch was scared would come along and shove all that one man army horse shit right down his ####ing throat. Butch can barely hold his own against mid card assholes like Fallen and Styles so how the #### does that make him as strong as a damn army? If anyone is a force to be recognized in the HWA it isn’t some has been douchebag on the lonely road to retirement. I’ve set more records than any of the undeserving jackholes on the roster today so if anyone deserves that label it’s the undefeated World Heavyweight Champion, Michael James. Three years undefeated. One year undefeated as the World Champ along with my prior accomplishments connected to the All Star Championship. So far, Butch has yet to score a single victory in the time I’ve spent turning my name into the making of a ####ing franchise. Sure, he’ll hide behind Wisdom’s ball sack talking about who he used to be, calling himself a legend among men while knowing damn well he was always meant to be nothing more than another flash in the pan. It’s pathetic, really. So pathetic in fact that I actually started to pity the poor son of a b###h. Luckily that didn’t last very long and Butch was back at the bottom of the barrel on account of his own stupidity. I can always expect the same song and dance from Parker no matter how many pointless times he tries to resurrect his decaying career. He’ll get a few cheap shots on me and then fail to deliver like he has so many times in the past. It’s like I told him before, in the realm of reality true heroes don’t exist. In this game it’s dog eat dog, win or lose, kill or be killed. You can either learn how to rely on instincts for survival or be eaten alive by champions who don’t have time to waste on meaningless bullshit.
* James swivels the chair to the left and moves to his feet. He gradually glides around the side of the desk while the angle dollies back, exposing what appears to be a Nazi flag posted on the back wall. James looks down at his feet where two men are found confined with duct tape and rope, both wearing authentic German uniforms with Nazi propagandhi stitched into the arm bands. James inhales deeply while glaring towards the closest wall that appears to be soaked with gasoline *
Michael James: Lassen sie uns sehen im fernsehen. Was denken sie?
* He says to the men with a sense of cynical sarcasm in his tone. James picks up a remote control from the desk and powers on a small plasma screen television. After scanning through the channels he stops on a broadcast featuring footage from The View. The frame is locked on a shot of Wisdom Parker glaring into the camera lens, speaking of her hatred for Michael James. He laughs, takes another drag from his cigar and folds his arms across his chest *
Michael James: This is just plain disappointing. I don’t know if it’s her lack of delivery or ability to look into the camera without twitching that lazy eye, but something tells me this b###h is finally come to the end of her rope. In other words, she doesn’t have anything left in the tank. She’s done, finished; pretending to exist on borrowed time when she knows it would have been a smarter move to quit a LONG time ago. Take for example, her misguided quote about my inventory of phenomenal insults that never seem to go out of style. If Wisdom knew anything about Michael James she would know that I will NEVER run out of things to say, and that includes my verbal assault of her artificial reality. The sad part is she actually believes the shit that comes out of her mouth and that’s why she will never be able to match wits with the undefeated World Champion. She’s like the unofficial jester of the HWA, sticking around for the sake of petty amusement when she knows the rest of us are laughing behind her back. She’s tits, ass, testicles and bullshit – none of which have done anything to help her gain any kind of advancement throughout the course of her pathetic existence. Her life has no meaning and her delusional words have done nothing but served as an assist to her own self destruction. I would be lying to say I had nothing to do with it but sometimes you have to take action in order to restore balance within a chaotic society. If the HWA was New York City, I would be Steve Cohen and Wisdom would be just another lowly hooker in Hell’s Kitchen. And despite whatever pointless rebuttal that cockeyed #### decides to blow out of her taint, that’s just the way things were always meant to be. She might not agree with the natural order and claim the Parker family is going to change everything, but everyone knows that isn’t going to happen. It didn’t happen at Road to Ruin, Fatality or Blood, Sweat and Tears; so that means Wisdom has already used up all of her strikes.
* James taps his cigar and ashes on top of the men lying on the floor. After rolling his eyes upon completion of the broadcast, he starts browsing through channels once again, coming to a stop upon sight of a commercial on a local sports network. It appears to be a recap video made to promote his match with Butch Parker at Road to Ruin. He scoffs upon the mention of Butch being considered unbeatable in the Lion’s Den as the light causes a glare to reflect from the breastplate of the HWA World Championship *
Michael James: The one thing that has always bothered me about Butch is his habit of trying to use senseless hype to push him through the hard times. It might have worked with Obama and even Hitler for the purpose of generating a mass following, but not everything can apply to the concept of world domination. Unfortunately for Butch, this isn’t a political debate and he isn’t going to win by spreading rumors that only make sense in his own ####ed up sense of realism. He wants the world to believe he’s going to win this match simply because it’s an environment he claims to know like the back of his hand. But then again, he said the same thing about the Taipei Deathmatch and everyone saw what happened there. For months it was thumbtacks this and staple gun that, trying to convince me and everyone else of his ability to withstand absolute brutality in order to take me out of the picture. In the end Parker failed to do any of the things he said he was going to do. He lost the match, lost the World Championship and ended up losing the final shred of his dignity to a man that would rather spit in his face than shake his hand. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I don’t respect the Parker family because they are ####ing below me. I’m cut from a different cloth and that’s why I’m recognized as a better champion than Parker could ever dream to be. He uses stupidity, meaningless grit and fraudulent word of mouth to hype up his name. He creates bullshit where there should be professionalism. He hides behind Wisdom until he’s forced to make a move or face the shame of being labeled a natural born coward. I don’t have those problems because my record is flawless. No losses, no failed attempts and no regrets. You know why? Because even if I could go back and repeat history I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
* He says as he reaches inside of his jacket and removes a flask from the pocket. He sits down on the corner of the desk and takes a hefty swig of the Sake *
Michael James: What Butch fails to realize is I really don’t care what type of environment he wants to place me in because nothing is going to change the outcome of this match. He wanted to prove he was a veteran when it came to deathmatches and ended up gushing blood and bile from every inch of his body. Parker said he could handle the agony and battle through for the greater good only to end up face down in a pool of his own piss. On that night the only person that proved anything was Michael James. I won the match, took the championship and made history as the first Japanese HWA World Heavyweight Champion. It wasn’t the result that people were expecting and certainly wasn’t one that Butch wanted to live with, but that’s what happens when you try to accomplish the impossible. I’ve had that stupid bastard’s number from the very start and now he thinks testing my abilities is going to give him an advantage at Road to Ruin. And I’m not going to lie. It’s been a while since I was forced to stick to the basics and work with limitations, but that’s where the reliance of experience comes into play. I wasn’t trained by some cracked out albino in exchange for a rim job from Wisdom. I was trained by men who craft and develop the mechanics of precise combat. Sure, none of them were featured against Cock Lesnar or Rhonda Rousey in a scripted event like Butch would probably expect to see, and that’s why I refer to him as a ####ing imbecile. Unless it’s a spotlight show on Mtv or another one of his delusions filled with cotton candy and rainbows, he isn’t going to give a damn. Unlike Butch, I take pride in being a professional. I take pride in being an undefeated World Champion. Most of all I take pride in my ability to stand above the rest of the competition as the best in the company.
* He inhales one last drag from his cigar before dropping it on the floor near the confined Nazi followers. A few seconds later we notice a small flame rising from the floor while the men begin to panic. He uses the remote control to turn off the television *
Michael James: Butch can’t do that because I spent the last year breaking down both his pride and formidable reputation, leaving him with nothing but a small portion of bottomless hope. I know he’ll just reply to this saying I’m nothing more than a product of Senester’s deranged imagination set out to destroy Parker from the very start. And you know what? I’m okay with that because I already know how stupid he sounds even if he refuses to accept the consequences of his own humiliation. When I arrived in the HWA I made it clear that I was there for one person and one person only. I wasn’t acting on orders handed down by Senester because I didn’t know a ####ing thing about the guy. The only thing I cared about was being booked in matches so I could start putting the entire roster to shame as quickly as possible. Back then, Parker was the big fish in the small pond. He was a World Champion that took everything he had for granted because he thought he was untouchable. Luckily it didn’t take very long for me to prove how full of shit he truly was. Butch said I was nothing yet the first chance he had to back up his claims he ended up flat on his back. I did that for me. Not Senester. If I had been working for Senester chances are I would have just put a buckshot in Parker’s thick skull and called it a night. One thing that both Butch and Wisdom need to realize is the only person I’m working for is Michael James. I already defeated Parker on multiple occasions in a variety of high profile matches so what the #### is going make the Lion’s Den match any different? Butch ain’t shit. He’s never been shit and after he loses at Road to Ruin he’ll have no choice but to go into hiding once again. The HWA is a better place without those two dickweeds. For the first time in years we finally have a sense of actual equality within the ranks because I made it that way. Those guys look up to me for a reason.
* The size and width of the flames increase by the second. Both men on the floor begin to scream bloody murder from underneath their gags as James makes a sly exit from the office. The camera pans back and shows the Nazi flag burnt to a blackened crisp while a red aura from the rising flames reflect throughout the small room. A few seconds later we cut to a mid second static feed followed by the frame cutting to black *
04/16/2015
The Lion’s Den Mixed Martial Arts Training Facility
Dallas, Texas
* We open with a slow fade to what appears to be a wide angle view of the Lions Den Training Facility in Dallas, Texas. The parking lot is packed full of cars with a few vehicles sticking out like a sore thumb, due to the large satellites attached to the roof. There is an emblem printed on the side of the trucks that read Spike TV!, as well as a number of barricades blocking the entrance of the gym. The cameras move past the front door and cut to the floor of the gym where a large crowd appears to be gathered around a full scale ring. Expensive cameras and production lights are set up in different spots while people in the crowd appear to be awaiting for something big to go down. Seconds later, we gain sight of former UFC champion Ken Shamrock climbing inside of the ring *
* The attending audience greet him with a huge applause as Ken takes his place in the center of the mat. As the noise gradually fades he clears his throat with a huge smile on his face *
Ken Shamrock: The first thing I want to do is thank everyone that decided to join us today in celebration of an upcoming event taking place right here at the Lion’s Gate in less than a week’s time. It’s not everyday we’re presented with the opportunity like this and that’s why I wanted to deliver the press release in person instead of relying on viral media. With that being said, please allow me to present—
* He directs his attention towards a few of the bursting ceiling lights, popping out with a huge flash while leaving half of the gym in complete darkness *
Ken Shamrock: What the hell was that?
* Less than a second later the lights on the opposite end of the gym cut to black. Various people in the crowd are heard panicking while Ken begins shouting orders towards members of the gym’s security. The sound of scrambling footsteps and collaborative arguing echo throughout the building as Ken’s orders quickly come to a stop, combined with the deafening sound of someone crashing down on top of the mat. Just as the lights in the building are restored by use of a backup generator the crowd direct their attention towards the center of ring, appalled by the sight of Shamrock being assaulted by the HWA World Champion, Michael James. He has a chain wrapped around Ken’s throat, using it to cut off his oxygen supply, while kicking him in the ribs over and over again. Various security guards attempt to rush the ring but are quickly confronted by a number of Yakuza guards; armed with chains, baseball bats, brass knuckles and singapore canes. Shamrock begins to spew saliva and blood from his mouth, gasping his air while gurgling on the blockage, causing James to release the chain. He laughs out loud and flips Ken over, locking on his trademark STF *
Michael James: Having problems breathing there, Kenny?
* His choking increases as James tightens his grip on the hold *
Michael James: Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. You mind repeating yourself?
* Ken forces out the blood as it dribbles down his chin like vomit *
Ken Shamrock: ####.......YOU.
* James shows a cynical smile and scoffs at Ken *
Michael James: All you gotta do is tap, Kenny. I know you’ve done it before so it shouldn’t be that hard for you to understand. Tap like the b###h you are and show everyone your true colors.
Ken Shamrock: Ne....
Michael James: What’s that?
Ken Shamrock: NeeeVER!!!
Michael James: Oh okay, so now you want to play hero, huh? We can do that.
* James releases the hold and moves back to his feet. He walks towards the edge of the ring and glares into the lens of the camera *
Michael James: Hey Butch! Do yourself a favor and pay close attention to this because I’m about to show you what happens to heroes in the real world.
* James drags Shamrock up by the collar of his shirt and wraps his hand around the former UFC champion’s throat. Frail and barely able to stand, Shamrock struggles against James as he lifts him into the air and then sends him crashing across his knee with the Stumpgrinder chokeslam. Ken drops to the mat and lies flat on his face, motionless and spewing blood. James grows a confident smile and removes a cuban cigar from his jacket and uses a match to light the tip. After unzipping his jacket to reveal the HWA World Championship strapped around his waist, he motions for the camera operator to stay locked on him. He exhales a cloud of smoke and scoffs at the crowd as they curse him for attacking Shamrock *
Michael James: For those you that don’t know exactly who I am, my name is Michael James, otherwise known as the most diverse undefeated World Heavyweight Champion throughout the history of professional wrestling. And yes, I know this isn’t an arena and this broken piece of shit got his pink slip more than a decade ago, but he isn’t the reason I’m here. I’m here to send a message to Butch Parker through the assault and battery of yet another one of his lackluster idols. It started with Bret Favre and Tom Arnold so I had no choice but to go after the most fitting name connected to our confrontation at Road to Ruin. Butch says he’s a submission specialist. He says there’s no way of beating him in a match he stole from yet another guy who couldn’t match wits with me on his best day. So far, Butch has yet to defeat me in a single match whether it was a title defense or stand alone exhibition. I’ve pinned him more than once and I’ve made him tap so doing it again isn’t going to be hard for me. On the other hand, causing the stupid son of a ###### to black out from lack of oxygen is another option that works in my favor since his brain is already thoroughly damaged from years of watching Wisdom giving out snowballs to complete strangers. The point I’m trying to make is Butch Parker is full of shit. He’s just as full of shit when Shamrock took the claim of the most dangerous man while losing to guys like Severn, Gracie and Tank ####ing Abbot. That’s why I think Butch admires Ken so much. Here we have two guys in complete denial of their own lack of talent, hoping their pathetic self praise and word of mouth will count as an actual effort. I don’t have that problem because I let my flawless talent do the talking for me. I managed to create more hype with a ####ing fart than Butch could create with illegal donations to TMZ.
* He exhales the smoke and ashes the tip of the cigar on top of Shamrock’s head *
Michael James: Butch has always needed some kind of support system in order to exist. For the last year he’s been relying on Wisdom to fight his battles for him, throwing her under the bus in order to avoid the terror he felt upon the sound of my voice. Not much has changed since then. Butch is still scared shitless, Wisdom still has a set of hairy testicles where there should be a vagina, and I’m still recognized as the face of the HWA. And despite the empty promises of a total hypocrite, nothing is going to change after Road to Ruin. Wisdom will have two lazy eyes instead of one, Butch will have another concussion to add to his list of injuries and I’ll have another win over Butch Parker to add to the record books. Butch doesn’t know the first thing about holding success and that’s why he will always be a natural born loser. If he can’t win on dumb luck he won’t win at all, or try for that matter. Luck is bullshit to me. It’s the same as having the type of artificial hope that keeps Parker from blowing his brains out every morning when he rolls out of bed. First he has to wake up the sight of two homeless Puerto Ricans keeping his wife locked in a double penetration sandwich, then make breakfast for all three of them while pretending to be okay with the fact that his wife is a ####ing cum dumpster. I really don’t know how he does it and I don’t really care. All I know is he needs to pull his head out of his ass and focus on whats coming at Road to Ruin. Of course, I know he’ll just yammer on about how wrong I am about everything, and that’s to be expected from Butch. I already know what that stupid asshole is going to say before he makes the mistake of opening his ####ing mouth. He’s the official broken record of the HWA.
* James directs his attention towards a woman standing in the front row. She has an ESPN badge on her shirt and a tape recorder in her hand. James allows her to speak *
Woman: Quick question...
Michael James: Shoot.
Woman: Exactly who in the hell is Butch Parker? And why should we care?
Michael James: You don’t know who Parker is?
Crowd: NO!
* They say in unison, causing an echo throughout the building *
Michael James: Shit. Nevermind.
* He looks down at Shamrock as he appears to be moving again. James casually moves to the edge of the ring and makes an exit through the ropes. A few of the Yakuza guards slowly back away and join James on his way out. Seconds later, the frame cuts to a static feed, ending the broadcast *
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