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+--- Thread: Warfare Is Getting Closer (/showthread.php?tid=16470)
Warfare Is Getting Closer - Mr. Oz - 11-02-2014
A couple days have passed since he had done his last promo. He had seen what Morbid Angel had to say, what Kinwrathi had to say, and recently, Peter Gilmour. Ghost Tank would be seen sitting on a broken couch, springs busting through it and it was slightly tilted forward and to the right due to a busted leg. He looked to the camera and began to speak,
Mister Morbid Angel, I am glad I finally got to hear from you. I am going to address a few things that you've said. You seem to be mistaken about me. I have not been owned by anyone. Who has done such a feat? Who has actually put their hands to me and beaten me? No one. I was ganged up on, I was torn asunder, and they still didn't take me down. I broke the cage like it was a piece of goddamn paper, and made my enemies feel my power. I succumbed to darkness, and fended off Death. I was a goddamn machine of destruction at War Games, and for you, of all people, to not recognize this, is truly idiotic. My 'man' was only recently hired as well. He came to XWF as a cameraman, and I asked him to stay. So, you'll have to forgive us if we don't know your accomplishments before we were hired. I only know of what you've done since I've been here. That is why I reacted the way I did. Any rookie who joined this month, and has a partner he's never seen before, compared to seeing his opponents actual work, would have reacted the same way. You do make me laugh though. I am glad I wasn't chosen to be on your team. I was chosen to be a Demolitionist on a team that has someone like Sane, another rookie, who will have a BRIGHT future. Not at the King of the Ring, but in other things. I-Evertrust, the current X-Treme champion. Someone I highly respect compared to many others, because I went after the title, and he defended it. His Crimson Face helped out, but that's neither here, nor there. The team also had the now ex-Universal Champion, but that night he went in as Universal Champ.
So, let's look at which team had a better overall unit, shall we "Morbidgod" as you call yourself. Your team had you, Doctor Louis D'Ville, LH Harrison, Maverick, Venemous. You went against a team that had their leader leave them, to save himself for his cash-in. My brother in The Asylum, however, beat the fuck out of you guys. You won, granted, but Mick didn't give up. He was thrown off the roof, and came back to beat the fuck out of you guys some more. It was essentially a four-on-one match, since Venemous didn't do much of anything, and yet my brother, alone, was able to give your team trouble! Don't delude yourself Morbid, if Theo had actually competed, if Cain and Monolith actually pulled their fucking weight, your team would have actually had trouble winning.
Now look at my team. Eli, Sane, Evertrust, Tyroil, myself. Look at who we faced. Almost everyone on both sides actually fought. However, did you watch the match? No one focused on Evertrust, Eli, or Sane. They focused on ME!
His voice rose as he began to shriek and he pounded on his chest,
THEY FOCUSED ON ME, MORBID! THEY FOCUSED ON ME! THE NEW BREED OF BEAST!
He chuckled slightly, before speaking normally once more,
Knight tore my flesh with his teeth, they broke my nose...
His voice rose again
THREE OF THEM HAD TO RESTRAIN ME! THREE OF THEM WORKED AS ONE! THREE OF THEM TORE MY FACE OPEN!
He let out a cackle, then coughed mid-way and resumed his regular speaking voice,
Do you remember what else happened, Morbid? I said it earlier. I speared Knight into the fucking cage, and destroyed it. I split my head open when I speared him, and I still managed to take out JACK and Kessler before Death came for me. I sustained four injuries, three of them were big enough that I was bleeding worse than a group of girls getting their first period!
He snickered, shaking his head,
I was stopped only by Death coming for me. I took three men out, none of them took me out. Yet you say I get owned by everyone. My team also won, Morbid Angel. However, it was off my hard work, off my being exactly what I have promised to be: A New Kind of Monster, A New Breed of Beast. I hurt people, and no matter how much I bleed, I still run roughshod over people. I still fuck them up. The only thing that can stop me during a match, is Death. So, Morbid, let's look at which match had which team actually having to fight for their wins, shall we? Oh, wait, we don't. Our match was on nearly equal footing. We actually fought for our victory! We did not have it damn near handed to us, unlike you! One member of the opposite team gave yours trouble! ONE! You, Morbid Angel, should not even be proud of that victory, yet you act like it was a well-deserved win to your record! Your team had just broken a sweat and then a few minutes later, you won. Whereas the team I was on, I actually BLED for the victory! Eli and Evertrust broke a sweat half-way into the match!
He began to shriek once more
WE WORKED FOR OUR VICTORY!
He smirked and his voice was once more calm,
I don't think Kinwrathi is a good partner. I don't know him. I only know from what I've heard from people backstage, Morbid Angel. They have said he's a good competitor, and of the people I could have received as as tag partner, he's up there. I'm not going to be like you, and delude myself into thinking Warfare is going to be easy to win. I have seen what you are capable of, I have seen what Mister Peter Gilmour is capable of. You two are veterans, and I am not. I am still a rookie. However, you will not be the only veterans I am going up against next week. I face Mister Frodo Swagkins. Then, if I get to the finals, I'll be facing either your former Victory Forever teammate, Doctor Louis D'Ville, or the current T.V. Champion, Gator. Am I afraid? No. Am I scared? No. I do not fear the prospect of facing you. My reaction was from being put against veterans like you two, when I expected to face other rookies, or hell, even others who are on my level or just a bit above. That's why I am, as you say, "proud" of my win against Miss Lorder. She was a fellow rookie, and I beat her. She gave me a fight, but I still won against her. You may not respect women, but I do. I recognize the power women can wield. She was never going to win, but she tried. I hope she has a good career and doesn't enter a slump after losing to me.
He looked away, as if he heard something, he then stood up, and like a wild animal, he began to growl loudly, as if warning the source of the noise to leave now. However, there was no sound that was picked up on video, and it just made him look like he was chasing shadows. He turned his head, looking to the camera and sat back down on the couch, and the poor state of it caused another spring to pop out, but this time underneath the couch. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he began to speak once more to the camera,
Where was I? Ah, I remember now. Okay, Morbid Angel. Now, I've already said that you were stronger than I. If you truly did that, then that's fine and dandy. Good on you. Oh, and I'm not going to run around constantly. I'm going to try and match you in power. I may fail, but you and I are going to go at it a good long while and even if I have to combine my strength with high risk maneuvers, I will. I will do everything in my power to try and take you down, Morbid. I will do everything possible to win. You will come to respect me after the match, win or lose.
As for my life, you're so fucking wrong it hurts. You must not have seen the house I lived in, oh, that's another thing. Alabama? The house I was born and raised in, resides in Chicago, Illinois. I had a loving mother and father. I never was without. Unfortunately, around seventeen, they died, leaving me this gigantic house in their will. There's not much you can do to that house, though. It was already lit on fire, twice. It was my fault. I had just learned how to light matches, and one day I woke up before my parents, and began to play with the matches. I knew fire was destructive, and so I would light a match, watch the fire burn down until I began to feel the heat of the match nearing my fingertips, then use the sink to put it out and threw it away in the nearby garbage. I'd done this, maybe, six times? The seventh match, though, I had failed to properly douse it, so when I threw it away, it was hot enough that it lit the garbage can on fire, and it burned quick. We had wood cabinets, and that bitch went up in flames too. My family woke up, put the fire out, and I got my ass beat. When my parents died, and I inherited the house, I couldn't take living there. So, I called in an anonymous tip, as I set my home ablaze. Now, most of the house is scorched. Why do I tell you this? Because I want you to know that, I'm not afraid to play with fire, and I know that going against someone like yourself and Peter Gilmour is exactly that. Playing with fire. Unfortunately for you, I'm kind of a pyromaniac.
Morbid Angel, I do not fear you, I do not fear Peter Gilmour. I said my reasoning for why I reacted the way I did. You two equal veterans. I am just a rookie. I did not expect to face you. Plain and goddamn simple. It has nothing to do with fear, but everything to do with me being thrust into the Major Leagues so quickly against one man who isn't afraid to kill people in order to motivate, and against his tag partner, someone who beat however many people were in the last King of the Ring tournament. I'm excited for this chance to prove myself, Morbid. I'm ready to show the world why they should be watching me!
This time, his voice would go back and forth from calm to shrieking, beating his chest when he raises his voice while digging his painted black nails into his flesh, tearing the skin on each blow to the wide muscled chest, causing himself to bleed
WHY I! SHOULD BE! RESPECTED!
Morbid Angel, no matter what happens, win or lose,
YOU! AND PETER! WILL KNOW! THE COST! OF FACING ME!
At Warfare, you will not be facing an ordinary rookie.
YOU! WILL! FACE! A DESTROYER!
I am not going to be some easy win, Morbid Angel.
I! WILL! HURT YOU! I! WILL! BREAK! YOU!
When I do, both you and Peter will respect me.
He leaned back, chuckling slightly, looking off to the side of the camera, before looking directly at it,
Mister Gilmour, you were close. That was Phantom Train. God I loved Final Fantasy Six. Such an amazing video game. Only for it to be overshadowed by graphics and decent enough plot that is Final Fantasy Seven. Six, though, greatest game of the entire series. Greatest boss of the entire series. Mister Kefka Palazzo. Just like him, I have a good laugh, a weird look, and nobody wants to take me seriously, until I poison an entire water supply, destroy an entire race of magical beings homes, and then become a God. I do thank you, Peter, for the kind words. I'm glad to have slightly impressed you. Because I'm going to make you be even more impressed when Kinwrathi and I win on Warfare. My partner doesn't seem to have any confidence in me, but that's just fine. For you see, Peter, I'm a one man wrecking crew. Even if he never steps foot in the match, I will be able to hurt both you and Morbid Angel. Even if we don't win, Mister Gilmour, I will make sure that you leave the match very impressed. Same with your partner. You two will go in, think this match is just an easy win, and then find out, I had to make you break more than a sweat. I had to push you both to your limits in order to win the match.
You say you're not taking me lightly? Yet you think I have to worry about my life. I have shown time and time again, how much I care about my own life, Mister Gilmour. You should look at the last promo I cut for my match against Jill. I won't spoil anything, so, go find it. You'll see how far I'm willing to go with my own life, just to make people like you, believe how little I care about yours.
As for digging out Kinwrathi, I didn't. The Boss did. I would rather have had one of my brothers in The Asylum join me on this night, but unfortunately, Mick Manson is busy, and so is Hysteria. I am a bit more confident though, in Kinwrathi, but I am not the one who has to be impressed here. All I need out of him, is to watch my back. Even if that is all he does in the match. I will watch his as well.
At Warfare, Mister Peter Gilmour and Mister Morbid Angel, you are going to face a rookie with something to prove. You are going to face a Monster who will do whatever it takes, including sacrificing his own body, in order to win.
He grinned wide, revealing the black teeth,
At Warfare, I will have beaten, as Morbid puts it, Victory Forever Two.
His signature laugh would ring out as the video began to fade to black, and those neon green words flashed on the screen