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Hanari Carnes · (09-27-2020)

You know what the best thing about cigars are? They're all unique. Each and every one of them are different in their own way. They are made of different things, rolled differently, burn different. But each one is beautiful in its own way as well. Each one is carefully selected before use.

There is a precision to it. Each one has a story, each one has a reason for being special. That is what Hanari loved about cigars. He studied them, he took pride in knowing about them and he took pride in collecting them. Each one represented something special in his life, and he could tell you a story about each and every one of them.

Master

Aficionado

It's an earned title. Acquired, expert. Only the best.

Each label meant something. Each country had a different flavor, and some even had multiple flavors.

Hanari sat in front of his open box, looking at his collection of the finest cigars in the Western Hemisphere. He ran his fingers over the plastic coverings, admiring each one on a personal level. The box sat on a large table in the center of the room, a window overlooking the rolling hills outside Santo Domingo.

When he sat here, he felt home.

Cigars were such a big part of his life, from childhood until now, and he smoked at least one a day. Usually more. But this box, this box was different. This box was for when he won. Each cigar represented a victim, and a future one. This was his celebration box.

Hanari was very careful to select his cigar this time. For this was a special occasion. This was going to be another victim of the flame, but this one was on the biggest show of the year.

He picked through his victim box, reading the brand names, the locations, the years. This one had to be perfect.

When his eyes caught the right one, he could feel it in his soul. This one was going to be different. Carefully removing it, he closed the box, locking it after. He walked out to his porch, his Gucci shoes making the ever so familiar click clack with every step onto his marble floor. He slid open the back door to where he sat when he wanted to relax. This was a relaxing night. While Dick Powers was busy being frantic and throwing together a hastily done bitch fest about everything other than the pure unmitigate dhell facing him in 24 hours, Hanari would kick back and relax. High end cigar, top shelf tequila and nothing but the crickets.

"To the victor goes the spoils"

He poured himself a shot.

"Dick,

You spent all that time, all that energy, and you didn't once talk about our match. All you did was show the world that you can watch a promo and analyze it, then put a funny spin on it mixed with racist jokes and sex references. My man, listen, it's simple. I am going to say the same thing about you that I said about Johnny Legend because it applies to you, just like it applies to him. You're a gimmick. That is all you are. You're a gimmick who makes people laugh. You aren't skilled. Inside that ring, I am a surgeon. I am precision to a T. You're just there for the pay check.

You may be able to analyze a promo, but do you really understand it? Or for that matter, do you understand anything besides sex? Chico, your memory must be fading, either that or I am convinced that you talk out of your ass. Like one of those kids who talks just for the sake of talking. We used to smack those kids around.

"If he can get into a number one contender's match after being basically absent for the last 3 months, I can buy my way into one!"

I mean, I know that YOU have only been in two matches in the last 6 months, but chico...really? I mean, you must own a television at home? I have been the face of Saturday Night's. I fight every single Saturday. I don't just win, I dominate. I make people tap out. I am on a roll...some may call it a ....hot streak........."

*He pulls the cigar out of the plastic wrapper and holds it between his fingers.*

"Because from the looks of your floundering and failing over and over again it seems like you're actually proud of being the blank space between the lines".

"Tonight you want to say that I flounder and fail over and over? One, that's pure bullshit, but what is more flabbergasting is the fact that your forgot what you said in your last promo."

basically absent for the last 3 months
floundering and failing over and over again

"It must be a side effect for this dick pills you take. You may want to get that checked out, holmes. Could be serious. You see, I don't just talk for the sake of talking. I have proof to back up everything I say. You are so curious as to who I am and why I have this match, take a look at my damn track record. I don't need to sit here and reiterate to you my accomplishments, but in the situation we're in.....I was going to get this match regardless, it was all a matter of who they felt like feeding to me. The suits in the back enjoy your promo's, as do the fans, because let's face it you are funny. You're a funny guy. But me.....homie I have put more people out than polio. People aren't the same after they face me, and it's a proven fact. Do I win every single match I am in? No. It would be ludacris to think I did, or would, but I damn sure compete. This is your undoing....you're coming into this match far too cocky. You seem like the type of guy who pulls out to come on his own chest. You look like the kind of guy who sits in kids movies by himself just to look at children. You also look like like the androgyny of 80’s hair metal and the concept of entry-level jobs fucked and had a disappointing baby. Your picture should be on every box Trojan produces.

I digress.

This isn't about how people look, its about how they fight and so far all you've talked about is every other than the task at hand. Defeating Hanari Carnes, and its a tall task indeed.

To me, you are just a cigar in the box. You're special in your own way, but at the end of the day you get burned like the rest. Go ahead, be as unique as your heart desires but you still end up at the end of the Hanari Carnes flame. Go ahead and be as funny as you want, but it doesn't make you any less of a victim. This is an X-Treme rules match, and I am not sure you understand the magnitude of that. This is for a shot at Robert Main and the title that some two bit punk in face makeup stole from me while I was on vacation. This is a chance at a title that is ranked the second highest in this company. I have held it, and I am going to hold it again. I have never once been able to get my hands on Robert Main one on one in a match that mattered, its either a tag or a triple threat. He does that, he is a firm believer in the buddy system. You can make all the comparison's you want, but your entire promo showed exactly what you are and what you're about. It's all a joke to you. Life is one big joke filled fuck fest to you. Do you honestly think people are impressed? I think they feel sorry for you by this point but still laugh to prevent you from hanging yourself.

You have your priorities all wrong. You said you want star of the month for your performance at Relentless. Material things, petty. You put all your effort into these promo's but they still haven't gotten you wins. All of this humor jammed into one cum sock, and what do you have to show for it? 0-2 at the last two Pay Per Views. Did being a clown work then? You can be as funny as you want, as brutally straight forward and in your face as you want but facts are facts homie...when the bell rings you don't get the job done. I'd rather win matches with grit and determination than Promo of the month with witty phrases. I'd rather get into the ring and break arms like its going out of style. Am I boring? Sure, but I'd rather be boring and successful. I am a man of the finer tastes. Finer wines, finer cigars, top shelf tequila the best of designer clothes and cars. I bet your house smells like a combination of a two day old bowl of popcorn and fat girls.

We are not on the same level. You ask me where I plan to be in five years? Whats my end goal? I plan to have my legacy already paved in gold by then, and maybe at that point I can have the luxury of having your scheduele. I haven't really thought about it.

You see, what you may not know about me is that I have earned everything I have here. I came within a cunthair of being Universal Champion, and I had to fight my ass off to even be considered. This isn't affirmative action, shit isn't just handed to you here. If you're too brain dead to figure out my message in my last promo and why i did what I did with the girl, that's a you problem homie. That's a you problem. I am sorry about the subtitles, by the way. Next time I wouldn't be so courteous and just let you figure it out on your own. That ought to be fun. Like watching a

try to beat Jenga. It won't last long.

After watching and listening intently to both of your promos, which were a dreadful combination of "Wayne's World" meets "Dude Where's My Car", I realized the most profound thing. I realized that I , Dick, I am nothing like you. I don't talk like you, I don't have witty insults off the cusp, I don't make goofy comparison's to other roster members that are oddly true (Charlie Nickles is basically a barbwire baseball bat with a poodle perm was a good one I have to admit). I have my style, unique to me. I am rolled a certain way, made from a certain leaf. That's okay that we're different, because if you're enjoying being you, then that's all you can do, right?

*Hanari runs his hand over his favorite Dominican Cigar before bringing it to his lips.*

"You aren't going to like yourself very much tomorrow night. I am going to torture you inside that ring. I am going to make you wish you stayed in school and spent more time in the library than the frat house. There is no room for comedy when that bell rings, and our contrasting styles? Fuck a promo, fuck every promo in the world, we're gonna see just which style translate to a W at the company's biggest show.

*He lights the cigar, puffing out small rings as the flame scorches the end. It burns so smooth.*

"You know, I used to speak with a horrendous accent. I used to lay it on thick, for camera purposes. Now THAT was corny. You would have had a field day in front of the little red light back then, Dick, but.....the results would be the same. Everyone would laugh, cheer high five each other, and talk about how "rad" and "dope" and "fucking sweet" Dick Power's promo was.......but when the chips tumbled to the table, it would have been Hanari Carnes coming out the victor.

*He takes another puff.*

"To the victor goes the spoils."

"The blandest man on the planet."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

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