Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Mr Killjoy · (05-24-2015)

Swag Mire. DMX-Factor.

:: Trax stands in what appears to be a dimly lit cellar, a sole flickering light bulb is above his head casting shadows across the stone walls as the man who calls himself "Mr FN' Dominance" stands there motionless, unwavering, he has a "no nonsense" look about him, the shit eating grin which he usual wears is no longer there, in its place a look of stoic intensity. Trax cracks his neck before continuing to speak ::

I'm not going to beat around the bush with this. As you are both aware the time for talk is nearly over, and the time for action begins. Bad Medicine is upon us and as I have already foretold it will be a historically important event in the rich storied history of the wrestling company we are all employed for known as XWF, not because of the possibly changing hands of titles, or because we may see the finality of ongoing feuds, but because Bad Medicine marks the Age of Dominance. It is written. It cannot be prevented or stopped, and your feeble attempts of doing so will prove to be just that, feeble, when both of you fail to even slow me down.

It's been fun exchanging "pleasantries" with you both but these back and forth exchange of words are of no real effect because as we all know, wrestling matches aren't won by who can make the most creative promos or who trash talk the best, even though I pride myself on being a pretty good trash talker, it's about who can get it done in the ring. It's about who can push the boundaries of their bodies and beyond further than that of their opponents capabilities. I am always looking to push my limits, I am always looking to go further and beyond, further and beyond either of you can possibly dream of.

DMX let's start with you. I know you dream big. I now you dream of claiming a big win in your debut match and then climbing them ladders and reliving glory long past. I know you want to satisfy that hunger you feel in your stomach every time you wake up and every time you go back to sleep. Its burns at you. The longing to succeed. I've said several times already its one of the admirable traits about you, but there's only one problem.

That hunger, that gnawing sensation in the pit of your stomach. That ambition to achieve heights you have in the past and possibly ascend to even greater bigger heights. I have the same ambition. I have the same hunger. It's what connects us somewhat but what I think you will find separates us is the lengths we as individuals are willing to go to see these ambitions through, to see this insatiable hunger quenched.

You called in on the Breakfast club and spat a little freestyle. Adorable. I knew you would.You're so impressionable and easy to manipulate, like a child. All the hot punch lines, double entendres and lyrical miracles in the world aren't going to save you though. You're so called innovation skills isn't going to be the decisive factor in this match. When you're across the ring from me none of that matters, what matters is who is willing to go further and do what needs to be done to come out on top, and in all honesty I don't see you having that mentality, I'd love it for you to prove me wrong but you see DMX its like this, when I want to get something done in that ring bad enough, when I want to pick up the win bad enough, I won't stop until the other person is near dead, or I am. I have literally no regard for your well being. If I permanently injure you or worse in my attempt to win this match, then well so be it. We've all signed the contracts, if you "accidentally" get killed in that ring I won't be going to prison because of. That's the mentality I have, I am not afraid to kill or be killed to get the result I want. This is my first official match and it's at a PPV to boot, it's a must win for me, for you too, not so much for Swagmire because regardless if he wins or loses he'll just disappear again. I'm here to stay, I'm here to make an impression and get noticed and to get noticed you have to get wins, there's no other way. DMX I will murder you in that ring if that's what it takes, ask yourself, are you willing to do the same?

If the answer is no, if you know you lack that same killer instinct that I possess, then my advice to you is simple. Go to management before the match is set to be underway and opt out. I won't think less of you, in fact that would be the smartest course of action you've done so far if you did. Believe me. You'll be saving yourself heart break and avoidable injuries. I told you in my first promo this was between me and Swagmire, I was focused on unleashing a beating of biblical proportions on his bounty bar ass, getting in the way of that DMX, is as I said, an unnecessary risk. I'm giving you a way out, I'm a ruthless man, but I'm also fair.

I agree with you on one thing though, this match has the potential to be a show stealer. With or without your participation though. Every Trax match is a possibly stealer. I put ratings through the roof. Asses in seats. Co-Workers in hospital. I've said before unlike Swagmire I don't discriminate I am an equal opportunity ass kicker and people pay good money to watch me kick a diverse variety of asses. So if you don't show up to preserve your health, I can't hold it against you. But if you do show I will kick your ass from pillar to post, this is not a game, innovator of innovation? I am the innovator of pain, and if you still choice to take an unnecessary risk in getting involved in this match and facing me I will tear you to shreds.

:: Traxs eyes narrow, a hint of malice in his cold black eyes ::

Now moving on to Swagmire. I'd rather not. I've wasted enough breath on you so I won't waste much more talking about you. Air in general is wasted on you so I may just do the world a favour and put you in the dirt. I just told DMX I'm not afraid to kill him in that ring but in all honesty he's a good man and I don't want to have to do that, you though? I'd happily end your life in that ring for your incompetence, for you ignorance, for your complete disregard for this companies prestige and your utter lack of work ethic. The man whose number of matches a year can be counted on one hand and who relinquishes titles to children for his amusement, beating me, the man who trains on a daily basis, in his past company showed up as much as he could as he plans to do in his new one, and when he wins a title, holds onto it with a vice grip, until either:

a)Someone damn near kills me to get it off me

or

b) I have to vacate it due to serious injury or I vacate it myself due to claiming a bigger title.

I can't foresee it. I won't.

You've taken jabs at me for mentioning my past. You've thrown a lot of critique my way hoping something will stick. It's all irrelevant. Is the fact that I'm a Hall of Famer and multi time champion in a company now dead important here? No, but the point I've been trying to make to you Swagmire is when you get into that ring you'll see WHY I have those accolades under my belt.

But when the realization hits you that you've been over your head this whole time...it'll be too late. They'll be no escape. I will end you, end your meaningless "streak" against black wrestlers and move on to the next, and like I said to DMX win or lose you'll fuck off again anyway because you have no dedication, which is why you WON'T win because it takes both skill AND dedication to beat me, you have mediocre amounts of one and lack the other completely.

So when you're at home after all this, nursing you wounds, wallowing in self hatred and contempt, alone because your girl has left after she realizes just how much of a scumbag you are and not the type of man she should have around her kid, I'll be moving on to bigger and better things. I'll be racking up wins against people that actually matter because they actually bother to show up on a regular enough basis to be considered to be a solid presence in the company. Then I will make my way to Universal championship, slowly but surely, then the Age of Dominance will be in full effect.

::A door can be heard opening off camera and Trax turns, the camera spins and we get a view of Jackie dragging a topless man with a sack over his head covering it approaching, the man is handcuffed and on the handcuffs is a piece of rope tied to the chain which Jackie is using to drag the man towards Trax, the man's feet are also chain together. Jackie is dressed in what can only be described as dominatrix attire, black leather skirt, corset and knee high leather boots, in her free hand is a black whip, being slithered across the floor like a snake on the hunt as the pair approach :::

Ah...company.

:: Jackie throws the man on the floor at Traxs feet, a muffled cry comes out of the sack, indicating the man is also ducktaped underneath it.::

Jackie:: Down dog!

:: Trax looks down at the man before looking back at the camera ::

At Bad Medicine, the match we are in is a "Black Oppression" match, but the only people who will be oppressed along with suppressed and depressed after this match is you two, DMX and Swagmire. This match will not oppress me, no, it will act as my liberation, when I show the world once again just how dangerous, just how dominate over my opponents hence my moniker, I can truly be. You see black people as savages Swagmire, no? I will show you true savagery. With the aid of a good "friend" of mine who you're familiar with.

::: Trax bends over the man and takes the sack of his face revealing it to be Alexander Sanders the XWF try out Trax decimated the Wednesday Madfare super show just gone. His mouth is indeed duck taped, his eyes are red and swollen, his nose broken and bloody :::

This will be the scene that the world will bear witness to come Bad Medicine, me standing over both of you...with a whip in my hand...

:: Jackie hands Trax the whip ::

Then... THIS.

::Trax begins to whip Sanders relentlessly. His body contorts and writes in pain with each lashing, his screams of anguish muffled by the duck tape::.

THWACK!!!
THWACK!!!
THWACK!!!
THWACK!!!
THWACK!!!
THWACK!!!

::This continues for several minutes until Sanders body goes limp, passing out from the pain. Trax hands Jackie the whip back and turns back to the camera, sheer venom in his eyes, looking like the devil himself has took over his mind and soul::

I have only one thing left to say to both of you, come Bad Medicine you will learn the fatal life lesson so many before you have learnt, say what you will, do as you wish, but never...EVER...CROSS THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TRAX. Peace.

:: Trax and Jackie laugh manically standing over Sanders limp body as the scene comes a fade ::

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Liberation
Author	Message