![[Image: giphy.gif?cid=790b7611fb8c4d24ebd39a817a...y.gif&ct=g]](https://media4.giphy.com/media/Id2NEGR0Z3EgIhPUce/giphy.gif?cid=790b7611fb8c4d24ebd39a817a9da7a9ef5af979b9a2e66f&rid=giphy.gif&ct=g)
Isaiah King Corporation Said:The following is a work of art, a visceral experience, an unparalleled masterpiece produced by Isaiah King Corporation. It will be best enjoyed along with its musical accompaniment and your full attention, any less and you should be ashamed of yourself. Try to keep your hand(s) out of your pants, if you can - you have been warned.
As your screen flickers on this time, as you tune in to yet another Isaiah King production, your heart skips a solid beat. The first frame your blessed eyes see is the full body of Mr King, weaving between a rope, in his very own boxing gym. Behind him, out of the focus of the camera lens, is a man in what looks like a red suit, a stream of smoke leaking out of his mouth and floating into the air.
![[Image: creedboxing.gif?resize=456%2C191]](https://i0.wp.com/girltyler.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/creedboxing.gif?resize=456%2C191)
”How long you gonna sit there for, Zeke?”
The figure simply leans back, taking a nothing long draw and releasing into the air.
”Come on man, at least get your gear on and let me beat it outta you.”
Isaiah ends his sentence with a forced chuckle as he unwraps his right glove from his hand. The sound of velcro peeling makes your skin tingle.
”Every single year, you do this every single year. You can’t keep torturing yourself. ”
Isaiah flings his glove across the room. It lands on an old round wood table, tilting it. Unfortunately the table seemed to be home to a glass and and ashtray. With a crack the ashtray shatters across the floor, ash flying up into the air. The glass tips off the table and lands on the floor with a thud - surprisingly not shattering but mixing up with the ash.
”I said get up.”
“Zeke” stands up up a little uneasily, his legs swaying. The camera adjusts his focus to capture his face, and
![[Image: 200w.gif?cid=82a1493bz1lxowdxefajollb2lr...w.gif&ct=g]](https://media3.giphy.com/media/j78BVYHrzrycmrn14V/200w.gif?cid=82a1493bz1lxowdxefajollb2lr4c19pljcvt95jt48l8j11&rid=200w.gif&ct=g)
”Happy?
“Zeke” reaches down to the floor to pick up the ash covered glass, barely any amber liquid left in it. He raises it to his lips and downs whatever remained, including a few specs of ash.
”I don’t know how you can even stand to be in that ring.
”It’s all we have, Zeke.”
”It’s all you have.”
A painful silence fills the air.
Genuinely painful.
It lingers a little more than you’d like. A little more than anyone would.
All you hear is the slow drum of a fan too old to be spinning.
Round and round.
![[Image: mbj.gif]](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gIDrN3IZKjA/XK-OKOg1GLI/AAAAAAAAJaA/PaLO__pirfsiu--k9AGe4n8aflISK-vRwCLcBGAs/s1600/mbj.gif)
Isaiah slumps to the mat, hanging his arms on the bottom rope, and landing with a light thud. Phew. Silence ended.
”Would you rather I stopped?”
“Zeke” sways on his feet, trying his best to stare straight at Isaiah. His face is covered in a dampness, his eyes bloodshot.
”I do it for you guys. You know that.
”You do it for…
”Who do I do it for?
“Zeke” curses under his breath and spits a wad of phlegm onto the floor. Looking back up at Isaiah, he flicks the burning half bud in his hand towards him before slumping back onto his chair. The flying bud lobs high towards Isaiah. Faster than your eyes can follow, his still gloved left hand swings out, swatting the bud out of the ring before a single ember can touch the mat.
”Fuck you, Isaiah.”
Isaiah pulls himself back up to his feet and walks to the edge of the ring. He reaches down to pick up something heavy. My oh my, that title looks more beautiful everyday.
”Come on Wednesday, see for yourself.”
“Zeke” reaches into his jacket pocket with a black gloved hand. He pulls out another cigarette, not even from a box - just a lonely cigarette. A lighter seems to magically appear in his hand. Click.
The feed cuts to black as that small flame comes to life.
Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready? You better be.
Your screen comes back to life in the same ring, the droning sounds of The Weekend are no more, just the whirring of a fan to keep your thoughts company. Isaiah is standing tall in the ring, the camera filming him from the outside, pointed up at him. He towers over you.
“Why do you fight Mr Wish?Why do you lace up your boots every week, vaseline your embattled face and step up against the best and worst XWF has to offer?
Why do you keep coming back through the years, what’s it been like…7, 8, 9 years beating and being beat?
Do you do it because you feel bad for yourself? Bad for the shitty cards you’ve been dealt and bad for the lacklustre gifts God has given you?
Do you do it because your heart is full of pain unimaginable and only the distraction of getting your grizzled face beat into a pulp keeps you going?
Or maybe you fight because that’s the only thing that helps you pay back all the jail bonds and bailouts you’ve needed because Tommy is a bad boy.
Why do you fight Mr Wish?
Really, I commend you for being willing to step into the ring with an up-and-coming star.
I congratulate you for lasting in the industry for so long.
I am amazed by how you've still got it in you to fight while achieving... Growing... so little.
I'm not going to insult your sexuality, your family or threaten to rape you like so many on here do.
I just want you to see... That you're lost.
You're purposeless.
You're pointless.
Look at your tapes, look at your history... What do you see?
You’re everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Fighting without purpose, fighting because… Cards need to be filled? When was the last time you had a dream, a vision, a purpose to your pain?
You do whatever people want you to.
You team with whoever you get stuck with.
You fight when you’re needed.
You even kill when you’re asked to.
Why do you fight? Because you can. Because this dear, drowning company lets you.
A fighter like that has no place calling himself an athlete, no place calling himself a wrestler.
When was the last time you grew? The last time you felt like you were developing?
You’re a thug - a mercenary - a goal-less tool.
But that’s okay. We do what we gotta do right?
But, you’ve got your mansions, you’ve got your bruises, you’ve probably even gotten enough brain injuries to last you a life time.
Maybe it’s time to hang up your boots?
Imagine ending your career across the ring from a champion, the future of this company, a ruthless, single-minded king among men?
I’ll guarantee to make your last time in the spotlight one of glory and applause - I’ll even hold back on the brain injury.
Or… You could keep fighting. You could keep doing what others want you to do. You can keep spiralling in a directionless cesspool.
Doesn’t sound too wonderful, does it? You don’t want to retire, and you don’t want to fester in a pool of nothingness.
Both of those options sound so horribly… Unfortunate.
Hear me out.
Let me be your purpose.
You heard that right - I will be your purpose. I will be your light in the dark. I will be the King to guide you into true glory.
I fight because I want to carry this company on my shoulders to the very top.
I fight for every sorry soul I've had to step on to get here.
I fight to lift up every single opponent I've ever had up along with me. Those that can fight and those that can't.
I fight because fighting is how champions are truly refined.
Every opponent - another stepping stone.
Every ounce of pain - another lesson.
Every victory - another checkpoint.
Every championship - another evolution.
I have purpose. So let me be yours.
Stand across from me tomorrow, bring up your fists. Throw your kicks and fling me across the ring. Show me what you can do.
Then get your face punched in, your liver abused, your calves destroyed and your trachea crushed by me. I’ll show you just how far apart we are, I’ll make it clear how much further you can go.
I’ll let your broken body grab my coattails and be one of the first few to rise alongside me.
Rise with the entire Savage roster. Rise along with the broken and beaten. Rise up with your King.
Doesn’t that sound glorious? Let me be why you fight. You’ll never feel more fulfilled.
You’ll never grow otherwise. Please, let me do that for you.
Please let me break you down, throw you in a cocoon and let you out like the five foot eleven, redneck butterfly that you can truly be.
I won’t ask you to bend the knee to me, I won’t ask you to swear allegiance - any of that cliche shit.
I’ll use my fists and teach you with pain. I’ll show you what it means to fight with a purpose.
I’ll show you what it means to reign victorious and stay victorious.
When I’m done with you - you’ll know why you fight.
You fight to be me.”
Isaiah pushes himself away from the ropes, the camera simultaneously falls back and lands. The last scene you see is a dusty white spinning fan, spinning on and on. Moving round and round, but going nowhere.
![[-]](https://xwf99.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
The following 1 user Likes Prince Adeyemi's post:
