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Monolith · (09-26-2014)

Flash bulbs pop. Members of the press jostle for position amid the assembled throng. The hushed whispers of rumour and intrigue swell to an audible buzz of anticipation; whatever is about to go down, it's going to be big...

The lights dim to an almost imperceptible glow. A single dazzling spotlight flares into life and casts a brilliant neon glow across an enormous billboard adorned with foot high letters...

RAPAPORT INDUSTRIES GRAND RE-OPENING. It seems the writing is literally on the wall...

A commotion; two contrasting figures enter the room. The smaller of the two would probably be considered tall by conventional standards. But stood alongside his gigantic accomplice he resembles something akin to a parasitic twin. Whoever this guy is, he's huge. Not just huge. HUGE. The pair take their seats behind an ornate table in front of the billboard. If you could hear the collective thoughts of the startled on-lookers they'd probably be asking, 'where did they find a seat to fit that guy?!' But instead all you can hear is an awed silence.

The lights come up. A familiar masked face stares imperiously out at the masses. It seems the worst fears of the entire wrestling world have been confirmed. Pigs have flown. Hell has frozen over. MONOLITH IS BACK!!!

The man stood beside him waits for the furore to settle. He smiles broadly and shuffles towards the mic. His incredulous smirking denotes a smarmy, unlikeable character. He clears his throat...

'Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Daniel Rapaport. If my last name sounds familiar then it should. And if it doesn't then I promise that very soon you'll never forget it!'

He smiles at his own joke; the self-assured grin of an egotistical buffoon. What is this prick's deal?!

'The name Rapaport was once synonymous with excellence. My older brother, Bobby built our family's company from the ground up. Sure, he may have achieved it all with some questionable ethics but he achieved it nonetheless. But he also made some mistakes. And I'm not just talking about his dubious choice of facial hair. Indeed, the biggest error he ever made was letting this man sat beside me slip through his fingers. Monolith was once the hottest commodity in wrestling. He was the foundation upon which our family's fortune and reputation was built upon. And as you can see, those are some pretty sturdy foundations! But soon Monolith took his own unique brand of destruction elsewhere. And Rapaport Industries began to crumble. Y'all probably thought that the Rapaport brand was dead and buried. And you would've been right. Until now...'

He glances knowingly at the stoic Monolith.

'Today I am proud to announce that Rapaport Industries is back in business! That's right, ladies and gentlemen; Monolith has come home! And we are delighted to confirm that we have successfully negotiated a HUGE new contract with the XWF for his services. Those suckers practically BEGGED me to bring the big man back! And if you thought that he was impressive before... well, you chumps ain't seen nothing yet! But enough from me; I'll let him tell you in his own words. So, without any further ado, put your hands together for the jewel in the Rapaport Industries' crown! Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the Monster from the Alps, The Master of the Avalanche Bomb, the true giant of the XWF; the almighty MONOLITH!!!'

Monolith rises to his feet. A formidable shadow is cast across the room. The gaggle of slack-jawed attendees aren't sure whether to applaud or run for their lives. And who would blame them if they did? Monolith seizes the mic. His hands are so immense that he almost resembles King Kong snatching a helpless Fay Wray from the streets of New York. But if you had the balls to compare him to a gorilla then you'd almost certainly live to regret it... if you were to live at all...

'So I guess you all want to know why, huh? Why have I come back now? Why have I realigned myself with a goddamn Rapaport?! You see, in my time away from the scrutiny of the XWF spotlight I had a lot of time to think. And in my solitude, in a quiet moment of contemplation I came to a realisation. Love them, hate them, it doesn't matter. The fact is that I owe the Rapaport family a hell of a debt. Without the guidance of Bobby Rapaport I would still be little more than a cheap sideshow attraction. He and his family were the ones responsible for liberating me from my past life as a two-bit circus strong man. He brought me to the XWF the first time around. He gave me fame and fortune, wealth and power. And how did I repay him? By kicking his ass to the curb...

My new mentor, Daniel Rapaport said his older brother made a mistake by letting me slip through his fingers. Well, I'm not ashamed to admit that I too made a mistake by dispensing with his managerial services. Think about it; with Bobby Rapaport in my corner I dominated the wrestling world. I was top of the XWF card week after week. I was one of the most feared names on the roster. I clashed with the best and brightest this company had to offer and left them all in my wake. But without Bobby's input things started to turn south. I lost my X-Treme Championship and got saddled with some steroid munching, clown paint wearing freak as a tag partner. I slipped down the card to the point where my biggest rival was some bratty punk kid. And then I literally had my face melted off. You see, even the most powerful bulldozer is worthless without a skilled operator behind it. I may have had a whole lot of brawn but without brains it all amounted to nothing...

And so I came to realise that if I was ever to make it back to the top I'd need a Rapaport in my corner. That's right, ladies and gentlemen; the new Monolith is the OLD Monolith. And he's here to break necks, not make friends. As of right now I don't give a single solitary fuck about signing autographs, sucking up to the fans or having my face on a goddamn t-shirt. Thanks to Daniel and his ruthless business acumen my only motivation is the same as any other self-respecting member of the locker room; to wear the XWF Universal Title around my ample waist. And I don't care who I have to mow down to make that dream a reality. So those of you expecting a neat little sound bite or a signed photo for your kids can shove it up your ass. All I'm prepared to leave you with is the same words I've uttered a hundred times before, the same words which strike fear into the hearts of those who stand before me, the same words that signal a new reckoning for the XWF...

I AM MONOLITH AND I WILL CRUSH YOU ALL!!!'

His voice echoes like the roar of a predator. He rises to his feet and grips the edge of the table he has been sat behind. He lifts it high above his head with frightening ease. It would likely take two fully grown men to raise this thing a few inches off the ground but Monolith makes it look like a damn helium balloon. He utters a deep, visceral growl and throws it against the ground with sickening force. Wood splinters, journalists flee, Rapaport laughs with mischievous delight. A powerful metaphor for what Monolith has in his arsenal or just wanton destruction of property? Find out this Wednesday...

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