*The promo feed cuts into an eerie silence enveloped in complete darkness, the ominous and eerie darkness only knowingly active to anybody watching through the faintest of buzzing and the static that cut through for half a second at the start of the video. Suddenly, the screen goes from complete darkness to complete grayness, the buzzing of total static filling the screen, with the loud buzzing noise that accompanies it.
*It continues for a few seconds, before whispers start trailing over the audio track, inaudible whispers, but whispers nonetheless, as the ominous creepiness only continues - if anything, is enhanced - through the sudden and incomprehensible whispers that go along with the grey static. Another few seconds pass before everything cuts out all together, and the darkness resumes for but a second, one whisper piercing the darkness after two seconds of suspense, the faintest whisper with the clearest word, signalling the foreboding of what is to come.
.....The Fall.....
*The whisper echoes amogst the darkness, before static resumes for but a fraction of a second and the camera feed cuts into a darkened room, the only light coming from behind the camera, and only enough to illuminate a dark smoke rising from the centre of whatever room is being filmed. No figures, no people, even no discernable objects inside the room to tell where exactly this is.
*The ominous beginning, coupled with the complete darkness and the rising smoke creating the thickness in the air eludes to not very many likely situations, but the two words at the end of the eloquent introduction to the video give the impression of who is behind the backdrop.
*Sure enough, as the lights suddenly flash on, one flicker, two flicker, they finally pulsate on with a rush of white light, illuminating the entire room which, we see, is a boardroom of some kind, some kind of business room held for meetings and conferences and all things corporate.
*The smoke is rising from a burnt out fire emanating from a solid metal hemispherical type object standing on the wooden conference table, some kind of ceremonious object with a previously burning fire within it. The ashes are still filling the air of the board room, as is the smoke, but the two men sitting in the chairs pushed out of the table don't seem to be fazed at all by it. Instead, they are both looking into the camera, determined yet arrogant looks on their faces.
*The perfect description then, for Drake Hunter and Trent Omega. The Fall.
Beautiful, isn't it?
*Drake grins as he raises his arms up, as if awestruck at the glory of a completely ordinary room. The long table spans practically the length of the entire room - it's a sizeable room, the normal size of any board room that needs to hold anywhere between ten and fifty people at one time, and Drake and Trent are the only ones in it, sitting at chairs at the end of the table closest to the camera.
*Both are leaning back in the black leather chairs, the light able to illuminate everything but not exactly well, in an expressive manner rather than naturalistic, and as such the eerie aura of the room continues to be evident in the shot - probably what the two were going for.
*They seem nonchalant, as if they don't have any problems in the world right now, although beneath the expressions they have grit pressed into their faces, both with determined grins on their faces but both with steely looks in their eyes
The boardroom, the corporate's court. The one place in life where you can be assured every single form of corruption, illegality, and downright filth would be lurking, because this is where slef-righteous, arrogantly important people sit atop their perches and look down on the rest of us. This is the location of every bad thing in this world, poverty, corruption, even petty crime, they all originate from places...like...this...
*Drake tilts his head from side to side as he says the last words, reaching over and grabbing one of the World Tag Team title belts also perched on the wooden table.
I mean this beauuuutiful wooden table, and these exotic leather chairs, and that wonderful dark red carpet all seamlessly fits into the space...it all fits so...so...so well. So well. It fits so well that it.....it Makes. Me. Sick.
*Drake's grin turns from cockiness to steely distaste, going from a grin to a scowl in the instance of a second - he really can change in an instant. His partner eyes him, expectancy filling his eyes, the same loating mirrored in them, though without the same insanity.
This boardroom is evil. It stinks of evil.
*This time it's Trent who chimes in after Drake says the line.
Evil over here...evil over there...evil on the table, on the seats, in the carpet, permeating through the walls even. Evil...everywhere. Thsi boardroom is the perfect example of evil hiding behind the smug faces and greedy bellies of the slobs who run the planet. The people who...what's the phrase? Oh yes....the ones who make the world go around.
*Trent leans back, spinning his chair around in a full rotation as he speaks.
WE are the ones who make the world go around.
*The chair slows down, with Trent still looking up at the ceiling, as if daydreaming about something far away.
WE are the people who are actually SAVING this world, OUR world at least. We're the ones who are the noblest, the strongest, the smartest...
*He grins as he points to his head.
The ones who can sacrifice anything to achieve our goals, even when we get little hindrances like a couple of dragons in scales that fit too big. Men who thought they could step up to the challenge of conquering perhaps the greatest tag team in wrestling today......
*Trent scoffs, looking at Drake as if making a mistake.
What am i saying; perhaps...We ARE the greatest team, the greatest faction in the world of wrestling today. Surely in the WWO, absolutely. We're the ones who actually have an ideal to fight for, who actually go into that ring every night, cause mayhem, chaos, destruction...all of these great things, and who actually know what it is they step inside that ring for every night.
We fight for ourselves.
*Trent grins, beginning to spin around in his chair once again, as Drake rests the World Tag Team title belt on his chest and leans back as well, now prepping to speak once more.
More than ourselves. We fight for this idea, this idea of destruction, of chaos, of total anarchy. We FIGHT, because WE LIKE IT!
*He explodes in a mixture of passion and insanity, yet Omega doesn't seem fazed as all, still spinning in his chair.
We like destruction, after all it's the path to a greater company, a greater business, a business without places like this to interfere, a business without people like Michael Rockefeller to claw his way to the top because of his last name....and I know he's our boss.....here's the thing.....
*Drake leans forward, as if about to tell something to the camera very discreetly.
We. Don't. Care.
*He grins as he leans back in his chair once again.
We don't usually get along very well with authority, with anybody in general really, at least anybody who thinks they're above us...or they can beat us...or that don't like us...or that disagree with us. Really, we're not likeable people. But what we do have...is solidarity.
Something that i can absolutely guarantee you nobody...and i mean NOBODY has ever had in one of these rooms, in this space, in these chairs and on this table. Nobody.
People in here will scoff at the word "loyalty", the idea of a "justifiable cause" or something as absurd as a "common philosophy." No, you see to get to them you need to use a completely different vocabulary....words like money... land... business... corporate... cars... rich... women... power... greed...this is the vocabulary that suits people in here.
Suits...get it?
*Drake grins at his own joke, the sadistic side of him coming out as he strokes his title with comfort, a passion for it that can be attributed to somebody with mental issues, though he doesn't show a crazy side, only a cunning, manipulative, twisted side. Trent meanwhile grabs his own title and slings it on his shoulder, wearing it as a badge, and warning, to people watching. They possess gold.
The people in here...they don't see other people as they see themselves. They don't see others as equals, they see them as a means of exploitation. They see everybody else as being below them, always ready to be used and abused at any moment's notice. To them, we're all expendable. Especially...when it comes to power.
Avalon Britton tossed aside people beneath him when it came to grabbing power. Justin Fishcer...well he never had anybody to toss aside because he couldn't grab any power for the life of him, so instead he bought his way into a nice little group of people who thought they could takeover the company by winning some gold and makiing themselves look nice.
Well ain't that special. PTI. Pussies. Twats. Imbaciles.
Pussies, well that's pretty easy to pickup, who couldn't notice how pussy you guys actually are? I mean i'm all for running away, for using people and pulling a fast one but you guys have taken that to a completely new level! I mean come on, you had to practically cheat your way into a World title, you had to then cheat your way into keeping that World title, all the while never ONCE proving that you deserve it, and then we you all of a sudden lose that very same World title to the man who you should've beaten, had you NOT been such pussies, you go and whine...and whine...and whine...AND WHINE....AND WHINE....
And where's that got you, huh?
*Trent has now stopped spinning and is looking as intently into the camera as Drake - who is now standing up next to the wooden table, stares intently into the camera. Trent meanwhile, is still seated, and is still smirking as he begins again.
I can tell you EXACTLY where it's got you lot.
*Trent smirks, lowering his hand until it's at the level of the chair, where his hips are currently seated.
It's got you right there.
*He motions with hand a level, beneath him next to the chair. It is level with his hips.
Right beneath us.
*Trent grins, looking back up to the camera while not moving his hand.
Where. You. Belong.
*He moves his hand across to his own body, motioning his pelvis.
Right at the level where you can Suck. Us. Off.
*Omega grins as he gives the camera the middle finger with both hands, as begins spinning around in his chair once again, smirking at Drake.
Which, let's be honest...is pretty good for you lot. I mean Justin's been sucking me off for his entire career, just feasting on my scraps, so it's no real change. As for Avalon, i can get to you later, and don't worry Justin, i'll be more than happy to trash talk you ass into the ground like i've done for the past two years...
But first, let me address what's going on in here....
*Drake motions to the boardroom around him, and then specifically to the bowl in the middle of the table, where the smoke is still rising from. The fire must've been extinguished moments before the video began for it to still be spurting smoke.
Well, what goes on in here every day, is people feeding off of other, leeching off of their life, they money, their individuality, so that they can gain some measure of control. The amount of backstabbing that goes on in rooms like these, hell it'd put Alcatraz to shame.
Because money grabbers, power hungry, greedy bastards that live in here, they're the real criminals of our society. They think they can stand on top of the world while the rest of us grovel at their feet for any crumb of money, any figment of power. What goes on in here is the Animal Kingdom at it's most primal level. It's people clawing over other people in order to get what they want, to get more and more and more and more and more. Everybody...wants....more.
And please don't mistake this for simple selectiveness, this isn't just corporate banks, property owners, real estate, government, politics, this is everywhere. This is everywhere in the world that has a power structure, because at the end of that day, every single power structure in the world will collapse, because that's what structures do. They tilt, they rust, they get old, they wither, and eventually....they all.....die. Collapse. Destroyed. Gone....
We. Well....we're the ones who are helping the process along.
Because make no mistake, this, everything you see here....ALL of this is happening back there, back there in the wrestling business. You see, this is a BUSINESS. And what happens when BUSINESS gets involved with the ring, OUR domain? Well, just look at PTI. Three jackasses who don't have a single hope in hell of amassing to anything without interference from a man in a suit get pumped up to something special, when all...they...are............is mediocre.
*Drake grins at the camera, leaning back once more, his title still draped across him.
You three, you embody mediocrity at it's most basic level. Us on the other hand?
*Drake motions to Trent, who nods in agreement.
We're the Messiahs of professional wrestling. We're the saviours of a doomed land. We're the ones who will tear down the foundations of this structure to it's very core, until it's all laid to waste and from there.....from there we will rise....
You need evidence?
*Drake pauses, nothing moving in the room except his mouth.
Look at what we did last week.....
*He pauses, as Trent grins and takes up the stance of speaking.
You know another thing that won't be in the vocabulary of this boardroom as well? Another precious little word that was vanquished along with the two men we beat for these titles?
Honour.
*Trent grins as he stops his chair from spinning anymore, looking back into the camera, although he doesn't move his body from it's lazy, leaning position on the chair. Both members of the Fall are still extremely nonchalant in their posture, their demeaour relaxed, while at the same time scary and vicious.
Oh the wonderful world of fantasy. With concepts like true love, happy endings and honour....what do they all have in common?
*Trent looks across at Drake to answer the question.
They're all worthless, meaningless sentiments....
*Drake's demeanour changes once again, the insanity in him being embraced by his inner self - all of him becoming one now, the crazy man we've seen week in week out, only becoming more and more insane by the second, even if the changes from the outside are the subtlest of things. Make no mistake, he's insane, but he doesn't look it. He looks calculating, evil, and maniacal, completely in control of his own insanity, but still insane nontheless.
True love, don't get me started. Look at my past three relationships to see that women don't believe in true love, they believe in using you...in grabbing everything inside you...until they kick you to the curb and leave you for dead....
*Drake's eyes flare up in recollection, but the instance calms them down, albeit minorly.
Happy endings, now there's a sentiment for the insane. People think i'm crazy? Show me a happy ending and i'll show you a tragedy waiting to happen...
*Trent picks up on the final one.
Honour. Well, i think we proved our point last week...at the end of the day, no matter who, what, where, when OR why.....honour will never beat an undying resolve to destroy. Honour will never vanquish chaos...
*There is a silence as the smoke fills the room, and as if in sync, Drake and Trent look towards each other, their eyes focusing on the big basin type ceremonial bowl on the table, the smoke still rising.
There, sitting on that table right in front of us, is a bowl where a fire burned until we came into the scene and the promo started. Now...well now it's just nothing but smoke, filling up OUR space like a disease, graying the entire area and making everything a little darker, a little less clear...
Remind you of anybody?
*Drake grins as he continues.
The Double Dragon.....oh what fun that was....
*He begins to laugh maniacally, glancing at the bowl once again as he grins and tilts his head slowly towards the camera, like a madman. The smirk slowly forces its way back across his lips.
Honour used to exist....it used to.....before WE came along! Before WE invaded, before WE terrorized this company so that it could rise from it's own ashes, and to rise there must be....a fire....
*He whispers the last word, the smoke still rising and giving it further importance.
We lit the fire in Double Dragon, we made them angry, we made them see the rage filled hatred fill their eyes as they charged at us with every, single, little bit of hatred they could fuel for us.....and we used it. We used the hatred like people in this room....
*He motions to the room surrounding him, raising his arms above him in an all-encompassing gesture. As if he's proud of what he's saying...
Use their money and power...
We used them, we plotted our their downfall, their FALL, into the fire and now, now they're nothing but burning smoke and withering old pieces of wood, just fading into nothingness.....
*Drake continues, his words getting ever-more heightened in their intensity.
Because to us, they're nothing. They're irrelevant. We BEAT them, just like we SAID WE WOULD!
*His voice starts to rise but his face is as arrogant and collected as usual, only the delight and passion of presenting his twisted and sadistic words evident on his face.
Because no matter what we do around here...people don't seem...to be LISTENING. Even when we SCREAM, AND SHOUT, AND BEG, AND PLEAD FOR PEOPLE TO START LISTENING, IT GOES STRAIGHT THROUGH THEIR HEADS...
*He launched himself out of his chair and threw his head forward, enforcing every word he just said with the psychotic insanity of his usual self, but raised to the absolute limit. It's only further evidence of the quickness with which the eruption of his mental state can act, and he grins as he stares into the camera, suddenly sullen and quiet, not a noise in the room being made, but for Omega leaning back in his chair and squeaking it as he leans back and forth....
We don't like not being heard....
*It's a complete whisper, barely anything there, yet the camera is able to pick the words up with an incredible eerieness, almost prophetic.
Which is why we create chaos....
*More whispers, the dark side of Drake Hunter clearly on display here, the glint in his eyes only further evidence of that.
It's why we destroy things....because as much i love words....i love to see something burn. we love watching the world burn around us...because it gives us the chance....the chance to create something from the ashes, mold it into our own little world....
*Trent's eyes mirror the words spewing from Drake's mouth, the eerieness active in the demeanours of both men.
And when OUR WWO comes to full progression.....there'll be no. Looking. Back. We will enter a BRAND new world where misguided fools like the Double Dragon and superheroes running around with masks are vanquished into the dust where they belong and where corporate jackasses like Pure Talent Incorporated are nothing but passengers on the path to greatness....lead by yours truly...
The Fallen have no words, only past. Only history.
Once places like this Fall...places like the one we're standing in right now, that represents the corruption and savagery that derives from places like this...and boy i promise you this week, the people who exemplify the very thing we hate...well ONE Of the things we hate...it's a fairly long list, plenty of people on it. In fact, i'm not sure i can name more than three people who aren't on it, but nevermind!
*Drake smirks, as Trent begins again.
We had a perfectly good celebration going on last week...
*Trent smirks, mocking Diosa by wrapping his palm around his face, to represent the mask.
We were about to rip the mask off of that little skank, and show the world what a piece of shit she was. It was all perfect, until Mr. Excrement in Ebony-
That's excellence, Trent...excellence...
*Drake points it out, mockingly.
Oh sorry, exccelleencccee...
*He stretches the word out, more mocking.
Decided he could take up the time of the three most dominant people in the entire damn company and....well......WHINE.
HE wanted to whine some more! And more! And more! I mean come on Mr. Excrement!
Excellence.
Whatever!
Just saying, he could be touchy. I know Ebony is the colour....you know what nevermind.
The point is, Mr. Shit-for-brains decided to get involved in our business, so naturally we need to get involved in his business. Actually, we need to get involved in destroying his business, because....well you know...it's the only right thing to do...
Business, i hate that word. God i hate that word...it leaves a foul taste in your mouth...and yet it's the one word that seems to have granted you near unlimited success Avalon! Look at it! Winning you a World title, and the tag team titles, and keeping the World title, and a bunch of paychecks, and your very own bitch to do your every bidding....
Hi Justin!
*Drake waves at the camera, the mocking and piss-taking side of him evident now, as it is in Trent.
You really moved up in the world didn't you? And why? All because you helped out a businessmen. You furthered his goals, so he furthered yours. What's the saying? I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine? I'm sure there's more than just scratching going on between you guys, you know will all your Pussy-i mean PURE Talent.
*The demeanour of the promo has suddenly changed, into a much more mocking, light toned demeanour, although the tension of insanity is still very much present.
Britton, let's make things clear here. We don't like you. You think you're arrogant, but you really couldn't even begin to fathom the meaning of the word. Because arrogant is only disastrous if you're wrong....and we are NEVER...EVER....wrong...
*Drake says the last line with a firm intensity, immediately changing the tone once again.
You and your little posse, your little bunch of groupies you've got there....phonies. The entire lot of you.....phonies. Take it from me, i've seen phonies before, i've seen fake champions and i've seen people crumble because they're in the wrong place....actually i recognise one of them right now...i can visualise him....
Hi Justin!
*Drake mocks once again, but the intent of his words is more expressive once again.
You, you symbolise true evil in this world. You symbolise corruption, you symbolise stepping on people in order to achieve your goals...you symbolise the very ruin of this business. And you know why? Because of that word. You treat this as a business. You treat it as a means of inflating your own ego, of proving how good you are.
Some say we're evil too. I disagree. Our ambitions are the noblest of the lot. We just go to...any lengths necessary...in order to achieve our goals. Something which is....well shall we say lacking in today's world. The desire...the need to suceed at ANY means necessary, at ALL costs. THAT is what this world needs, not more businessmen ripping off people. It needs visionaries......like us.
We don't need to prove anything...all we need to do, is create chaos. Is destroy. Is conquer. Because when that happens, we can live in a society that doesn't function on a political structure. We can live in a society that doesn't function through the pettiness and corruption of men in sharp suits. We can live in anarchy, where the best survive, and the weak......
Don't.
This week, you won't survive. I guarantee that.
--FIN--