The scene fades in on a scene unchanged from when it last left Hans, lounged casually on one of the leather couches in his NY apartment condo in the upper heights of the Empire State Building, as he views the latest promos on CBS. (Ash): He'll help me, he has to, and if he doesn't. f'k him, I'll do it myself. A few moments pass before Hans leans forward, mulling over what’s been heard. (Hans): Ash, you don’t know me. Truthfully, you don’t. You have an idea of who and what I am, one that you’ve seen from old highlight reels and past promos and one that’s not quite bumped up against reality… yet… Hans reaches off camera for a second. (Hans): There’s two sides to every coin Ash. Holding a worn nickel up to the camera between his index and middle fingers, he slowly rotates it round and back again, fingers moving back and forth as it happens. (Hans): There’s two sides to every story and the truth happens to sit in between both Ash. The sad fact is, you’re never, ever going to get the full story from just one side. The coin’s lowered onto the table, face up. (Hans): I’m glad you’ve got Anton now Ash, I’ve spent some time with him when we held the Tag Team titles together. He’s… loyal, or certainly was towards your father. I also got to experience a little taste of the knife in the back when he cheated me out of my match against his other half and stole my belt. The index finger on Hans right hand gently wags at the camera. (Hans): Maybe there’s a lesson for you there Ash, if you choose to heed it. Settling back into his chair, Hans pauses for a moment, considering the camera. (Hans): Now by that same token, let me address the hand-picked cronies remark. Again, two sides to every story and yes, to Anton, we were. But then, anyone that wasn’t him, Davis, your father or Talon fitted in that category, so take it with a pinch of salt, jah. A gentle smile crosses Hans’ face as he recalls the next part. (Hans): Though to be fair, once Butch took a baseball bat to your dad’s bar, neither could they I suppose. A small shrug of the shoulders, his facial expressions contemplative. (Hans): Anyway, what I’m getting at is that there’s a bigger picture at play here. One that I hope in time you get to experience and understand. There’s no malice here on my part, your father was a competitor of mine and I have lost and beaten him in the ring. That I won both the All-Star title and my World title off your father matters to me; he was a worthy adversary. With that, Hans stands up and exits left, the camera slowly panning down to focus on the coin on the table as the scene fades to black.
The coffee cup in his hand rises for a final time to his lips, as the reflections from the TV play across him, the sound from it somewhat muffled and indistinct.
The camera zooms in, as the end portion of Ash Phoenix’s latest promo comes to an end and the audio becomes clear.
He drops the now empty cup on the table.
Eyes flick up to the camera, an almost imperceptible nod aimed at the man behind the camera occurs before Hans then sits upwards and forwards, clasping his hands, forearms braced on his knees.
You see…
Now from my side, I had Senester constantly interjecting and manipulating results, trying to get under my skin and pull me back into Dark Horse Towers. Did the latter work? Nein. Did the former, jah, from time to time, can’t deny that. That man would have you walking away from any interaction, absolutely livid with him, even if you won and he lost. It just didn’t matter.
So what you have here is a set of men thinking the world is against them, even when it’s not, coming up against another set of men thinking the same thing. The only difference was that we didn’t hang out in bars 24/7…
Go seek your answers. Don’t just settle for the first story you hear though.
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