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Prince Adeyemi · (05-20-2023)

"Ugh, presumption.

You reek of it Dionysus.

Did you even bother to look me up?

To spend an hour or two studying tape?

Or were you too busy tasting pretentious grape juice with your head so far up your own ass?

Do you know who you're facing?

Because with this kind of lazy preparation, I'm going to bleed you out faster than sheep at a slaughterhouse.

Not that I've ever been to an actual slaughterhouse… but you catch my drift.

Let me help you out.

You're facing Isaiah King - two-time Television Champion, whose raised hell against the some of the best in the business while still in his rookie year.

You're facing Isaiah King - who doesn't give two shits head-to-head statistics or how far you made it in the March Madness tournament.

You're facing Isaiah King - who is the very definition of your "the next fight is the only fight that matters" shtick.

Well the very definition, and then some. Because the next fight only matters because of the fight after that. FIGHTS themselves don't matter, growth does, progress, hunger, the ever-upward trajectory.

I don't give a shit about where you stand against Dolly - I beat her for this gold and that's all that matters to me.

MY WINS, MY LOSSES.

THAT, is how champions are made.

With a deep obsession with their records, with a deep obsession with conquering all that's before then.

Honey, I'm the Heir Apparent not just self-proclaimed but self-proven.

From the day the XWF faithful laid their blessed eyes on me, I've proven to them what I bring to the table.

And before you know it…

Ned Kaye, Mark Flynn, The JustUs League… Raion Kido?

They'll all have fallen to ME.

Can you say the same?

Your unfortunate short-sightedness will hamstring you. You didn't bother looking BACK at the kind of monster I am, and you lack the balls to look FORWARD at the kind of monster you could be.

And so, you'll always just be you, little lost sheep Dionysus, humbled by the pinnacle of professional wrestling and needing someone else to tend to his wounds after every unfortunate match.

A word of advice, never presume what I'm about to do. Or what I'm about to say.

We are in complete different levels, you and I. Your brain, your hunger, doesn't work like mine.

Like the lost sheep without a shepherd, you cant begin to imagine what the predator is thinking.

You barely even believe the predator exists. Blissful in your ignorance.

And so the stupid sheep walks to its death.

While the predator stalks patiently.

You will bleed Dionysus.

You will bleed for your presumption."

Isaiah and Ezekiel dart out of the house with Lazar following quicky behind.

"Get Officer Woods on this, I don't know how Jeremiah is doing what he's doing FROM inside the can but if he can pick Chae off the streets, he needs to be out DOWN."

Lazar nods, hopping onto his motorcycle kicking it into a satisfying purr.

“For heaven's sake, put on your helmet, safety first Lazar."

The MMA star chuckles through a pained expression, unhooking his jet black helmet and putting it on before making his way to the Wood's precinct.

"That creep was right, he's letting Chae lead us somewhere uptown. Someone's going to die today."

Isaiah mounts his own bike, one of a few in his arsenal, a black and green 1984 Kawasaki Ninja. Kicking it to life, he looks up at Ezekiel whose about to mount it behind him. His eyes softened.

"Zeke, I'm not sure you can-"

"Keep your mouth shut Iz, I could be bleeding out right now and I'd still come, let's go."

His tone was final and sharp, he didn't even seem to be looking at Isaiah as he mounted the back of the bike before receiving approval. Isaiah didn't expect to get through him, but would've regretted not trying.

"Navigate."

Isaiah passes his phone back to Ezekiel, the glowing blue dot moving rapidly though the surprisingly empty streets of Upper Manhattan.

"You ready to hunt, Iz?"

"You have no idea."

"This title.

The Television Title.

The first I got to win here at the XWF.

A title that was ripped from me that I got to win again.

If you've paid ANY attention to my career so far, you'd see that I genuinely believe this belt is the most overlooked belt in all of the XWF.

You are evidence that nobody does.

The fact that they'd place you across from the ring to a Champion? On a losing run.

Despicable.

But the bookers don't care what this title looks like.

They don't care what this division reaches.

The rookie title.

The newcomers belt.

No longer.

I have ALWAYS wanted this belt so that I could CARRY this division to the top.

I've never gunned for the Universal title as a next step, others whovee stepped before me have thought like that.

I've always wanted to bring this belt to the LEVEL of the Universal belt. To make the Television title the premiere title of this business.

To bring those in my coattails to the pinnacle of the pinnacle.

So don't bring your trash PRESUMPTION of my opinions of this title. Don't project your lowly view of this title on me!

I am Isaiah King, the Television Champion and it's you that needs to prove your worth, I have elevated this title every time I've defended it or fought for it.

You, you potentially are dragging it through the mud.

Disgusting.

Week in, week out, with this belt or NOT. I have fought in this division to prove my worth.

Have you?

Have you challenged yourself and grown yourself every single week?

Have you faced the next best fighter?

Or drowned in mediocrity?

You rightfully acknowledge that this belt is a heavy responsibility.

It forces you to be at the top of your game every single week. And that's what I've been.

When I've lost, I've lost at the top of my game.

When I've won, I've won at the top of my game.

Can you confidently say you're at the top of your game Dionysus?

Are you pushing every boundary, breaking a sweat, crushing yourself to beat me?

Or are you busy with the rest of your life?

Look me in the eye and tell me you're deserving of this championship.

Not just that you have an opportunity to dethrone a champ, but that you are worthy of lifting this belt amongst a division of killers.

KILLERS Dionysus.

Not half-assed wine drinking challengers.

Champion level killers.

Don't presume how I view this responsibility, question yourself Dionysus.

You haven't proved that you can crush week in and week out, so what makes you think that you can carry this title?

Come in Dionysus, do I need to drop a 30 minute promo like you did? Or is 5 minutes enough to prove your unworthiness.

Maybe the 15 Dolly gave you.

All of the XWF universe will see how unworthy you truly are.

Prove yourself before you stand against me next time, and if you can, try and put up a this weekend.

Try."

Isaiah and Zeke look up at a beautiful redbrick in a clearly well-to-do part of Upper Manhattan. There was a beautiful green Cadillac with light beige seating parked out the front. That parking spot must caught a million.

Getting off his bike, Isaiah and Zeke both simultaneously crack their knuckles as they make their way you staircase. Blood was going to be spilt.

As they approach the large brown door, the feint sound of a piano wafts through the air to their ears. Still tensed in anger, Zeke goes to kick the door, before Isaiah spots that the door was left open. Ignoring him, Zeke kicks it down anyways, the door swinging and slamming aggressively into the back wall.

"That was unnecessary."

"They kidnapped your girlfriend."

"Noted."

As the door swings open, it opens into a large hallway with a singular chair facing away from them. The long flowy hair of of Chae is immediately recognizable, as she sits straight on a chair staring at a painting.

A large painting of Biggie.

A pair of black headphones cover her ears such that she doesn't even acknowledge the door open.

"C-Chae."

Isaiah's voice is cautious as he approaches her, his knees bent and arms ready to strike.

The painting of Biggie with a crown flickers, a screen rather an a framed photo. Biggie's face is replaced by Jeremiah's, the crown on Biggie's head the last to disappear.

"Oh, hello there."

Jeremiah attempts his best Obi Wan accent. Chae perks up in her seat, but Isaiah and Ezekiel are still unable to see her face.

”What’re you playing at? Chae, get up. Let’s go.”

Chae ignores him.

”Oh. Yes, she can’t hear you. And shes been told she’s not allowed to look away from the screen if she’s trying not to die and have you killed. She’s an obedient little thing isn’t she?”

Isaiah can feel his blood boil as he hears his enemies voice.

”You must be wondering why I’ve brought you three here, and I am glad all three of ou have come together.”

Chae’s back straightens as she realizes Isaiah and Zeke are in the room, but her head remains glued to the screen.

”If you presumed I’d be here, you were sadly mistaken. No, no. I’m better than you Isaiah. I am superior to you.

The two of you are here to do some bidding for me. Chae could die at the click of a button. If she gets off that seat, hell if her back moves off the back of her chair… She’ll blow right up.”

Ezekiel curses loudly under his breath as Isaiah immediately begins to take in the rest of the room, it seems like they’re on their own.

”Wise of you not to do anything stupid. Now listen up you little shits.

What you’ll do for me is a test of your loyalty.

I need you two to…”

“The shadows of my past have haunted me all my life.

My childhood abandonment.

My childhood abuse.

My… “Friend” risking my life.

My closest friends making me better.

Our past always defines us.

We are all a summation of our experiences, are we not?

And my experiences have made me who I am.

Each victory made me stronger, each loss making me hungrier.

Your experiences have only made you more comfortable in your mediocrity.

The little “home” you’ve carved for yourself.

A home of loss, simpleness and weakness.

If you’re so comfortable where you’re at, you don’t deserve to be in MY division, let alone to champion it.

Stay where you are Dionysus.

Face the new comers.

Beat the new comers.

Lose to the newcomers.

The Television Champions and it’s division are above you, we are conquering this industry. Without you.

Bleed for me, and be the sacrifice that propels us out of mediocrity into mind-blowing victory.

First you, then Wargames, then Ned than EVERYONE in the XWF.

YOU'RE ALL MY PREY.

You'll ALL bleed for me.

I AM the Heir Apparent.

Your kingdom is MINE.

You are in MY kingdom.

Do not presume.

Acknowledge.”

Black.

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