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Imperial · (04-28-2017)

OOC: For anyone unfamiliar with the game Far Cry 3 or Vaas, do check out this clip for a better Danny Imperial experience ->

“Has anyone ever told you what the definition of insanity is?”

His eyes fly open, his heart thundering in his heart. From his planked position, arms out in front of his shoulders and feet together, Danny tilts his head to look at something off screen. Sweat drips from the tips of his hair, clumped together by the aforementioned substance. The muscles on his arms bulge, veins protruding and tendons tightened. An exhausted chortle passes through his heaving chest.

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“Awwooooooooooo!”

His howl crackled through the static-y microphone of the camera.

His legs very slowly lift off the ground, his weight fully on his arms. His body slowly pivots off that point, head dipping down, legs and torso slowly raising into the air. His hair cascades down to touch the floor as his legs finally reach their summit, leaving Danny in a completely vertical position. The camera keeps focused on Danny as it slowly pans to cover his face once more.

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“Perhaps you’ve read it in a book, or seen it on some teenage girls tumblr repost.”

His arms bent at the elbows, lowering his head towards the floor until the two met. His eyes were focused, fully open and staring straight ahead, not once faltering. As his arms began to straighten again, raising his body back up, you notice the wet puddle of sweat that’s formed in front of him. You notice a digital clock to the other side of his body, a timer ticking away and revealing that he’d been at this workout for at least two hours already.

“Well, let me cut the chatter, you don’t want to hear me ramble on forever do you? No, no, of course not! Also, it’s actually pretty fucking difficult to speak when I’m in this position. Fuck, look what you’ve make me do, run off on a little tangent. Damn cameras never- Give me a sec”

He lifts on arm off the floor, using its momentum to twist his body, pushing himself off the floor and onto his feet. He does a little hop at his landing, trying to get his footing. He seems almost as surprised as you are at his feat of athleticism and raises his arms like a prize gymnast.

“Tadah! Not too shabby huh?”

Danny theatrically dusts himself off, turning to look at you. He sits down, cross legged, but does so without shifting his entire torso instead he just lowers at the knees until he’s seated.

“Now where was I? Right right… Uhem. Has anyone ever told you the definition of madness is?”

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Danny seems to have lost his train of thought, his eyebrows furrowing and a quizzical look spreading upon his features.

“Fuck, I watched that monologue over and over and over again for this...”

He mutters under his breath, just loud enough to be caught by the boom microphone. A shadow dances before the frame and little sounds coming from behind the camera betray some movement. The sound of paper rustling can faintly be heard. Danny’s gaze flits to whoever his behind you, though he tries hard to hide this.

“Okay I got it this time! Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity? It’s doing the same fucking thing over and over again, expecting shit to change. That is crazy. The thing is, the first time somebody told me that, I don’t know, I thought he was bullshitting me so boom! I shot him”

Danny rambles through the paragraph like a train, holding his breath until the very last word. He breathes out emphatically and a look of childlike satisfaction comes over him. Behind you, you hear a chuckle, followed by the crumpling of paper.

“Okay so maybe I didn’t shoot anybody, I mean, if I did, would I be announcing it on live camera? No, of course not! I’m not nearly that incompetent a killer. Pfft, but it sounded cool, didn’t it? You wanted to believe me, didn’t you? Yup, I know you did.”

Danny tries hard to hide his playful smile, trying to put on a look of utter seriousness.

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“You see, XWF Universe, Danny Imperial isn’t crazy. I’m not insane, and I’m definitely not mad. This time, it’s going to be different. This time I’m not going to just sit there and let him take what I deserve away from me, no sir.”

Danny begins to pop each knuckle in his hands, gaze still fixed onto the camera.

“My MO, that’s modus operandi for those of you not quite as well versed in the wonders of acronyms, is different. It’s different from all of these little sycophants you see wandering about the XWF locker room these days. They rattle on about the same damn thing, fighting with the same people and throw around the same insults they used two weeks ago. Insane. It drives me crazy really, I have one television that just plays promotional videos released by XWF.

Honestly, it feels like watching one of those tele-marketing channels. Shamwoos, Caedus, Phoenix steam irons, Chaos, those masturbation dumbbells, Slathe… They all mix into one swirling cesspool of incestuous repetition. They’ve all been playing the same song for months, it doesn’t matter who they align themselves with or who they’re calling a

today, there’s nothing that comes through their lips that speaks any life into this world.

I mean, I really shouldn’t be complaining, I don’t get paid to listen to their nonsense. I get paid to perform. But you know who I really pity? The fans that pay for this tediousness. They’re the ones that have been wasting their hard earned cash to watch greasy, grown men hurl playground worthy insults at each other. If I hear one more poker reference in relation to The Kings, someone’s going to die. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll do all of you a hyuuuge favor and change things around here.

I’m still a little irrelevant though, aren’t I?

Huh Jackson, I don’t quite have enough limelight do I?”

Danny targets his last sentence to the man behind the camera, who replies with a deadpan voice.

“No Danny, you do not.”

“And how do you suppose I get the lime light shining on me, Jacky?”

“Oh, I don’t know Danny, why don’t you tell us?”

His voice is monotonous and betrays that this sequence has been rehearsed.

“Oh I thought you wouldn’t ask Jackson, I will tell you. How will I force my way into relevance? By putting some gold around my waist of course, isn’t that the whole point of titles? An acknowledgement of ability and relevance. Donald Trump had the right idea when he plastered his name in gold everywhere, it brought him attention. Very smart. I’m going to be up like Trump and do the same. Have my name in gold.

It’s simple really, I go out there this week, put Slathe’s pet down, get my title and they’ll have to give me more air time. The more air time they give me, the less air time all these degenerates get and the more entertainment for the fans. There’s absolutely nothing negative about this situation. I can see you paying customers smile already, don’t worry about it, I’ve got yer’ backs.”

Jackson pipes in.

“But however will you beat The Monster of Htaed, Danny? You lost last week, however will you prevail this week?”

Danny nods his head solemnly.

“Yes, yes, it’s true. I did lose last week, and yes to many that would end all question as to whether I can beat him or not. But! If you were paying attention to my opener, which I came up with all by myself of course, I’m not crazy. I won’t be doing the same thing I did last week, because I’m not insane.

I’ve trained differently, and I see the soulless runt in a different light. I have already stepped it up a level and I’m reading to decimate him in the ring without a problem. He may try and put on a show about how he’s a different monster, but to me, my opponents are all the same. Just tools in the ring to bring out the true brilliance that I embody. People should be looking at me, appreciate the art I bring to the ring and wonder in the different ways I use my opponents.

Tidbits could go into a closet, pull out his mother’s old clothes and come out calling himself Sharon. I wouldn’t bat an eyelid. No, I wouldn’t. At the end of the day, he, she, it, is only a tool. You Slathe, are only a courier to bring me that tool. The ring is only a canvas for my work. I am the true catalyst of change and unpredictability. I am the only thing that’s worth watching in that ring, and there’s no doubt about that.

XWF has its fair share of monster characters what with Shade, Graves’ new pedophile ape gimmick, Doc and his hell’s bitch run and Drake running around somewhere claiming to be the devil. Tidbits is no different, same old trash rolled in a the sprinkles of cultist religion. You bring absolutely nothing new to our world, and hence we do not need you. We being me and the fans, the only ‘we’ that really matters.

So after you you lose to me this Saturday, after you give up your goal after a measly week long reign, be sure to run along. Go do what people do to reinvent themselves, do some drugs, live on a farm, start a family, I don’t know. Just don’t come back into this ring until you have something worth these people’s time. Something different, worth them clapping their hands for. Something different worth fighting you for.”

Danny eases off his seated position, and on all fours, crawls to the camera. With his face just inches from the screen, he stops.

“Bye bye now.”

The screen fades as he finishes, fading into a flickering image.

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