Post by LiamJR24 on Aug 14, 2013 21:39:59 GMT -5
Matt Duvall is training in his local gym, in Trenton. This is not your typical, high end, exclusive gym. The lighting is all organic, provided by several windows dotted around the walls. The floorboards are old, creaky wood and the air is filled with a heavy musk, suggesting that the place has been due a clean for a long time. The equipment is short in supply, and aged in appearance, with a boxing ring acting as the centrepiece for the gym. Duvall is kitted out for a proper work out, dressed in just a grey tank top and black shorts, with a white sweatband on his head. Having just finished a 30 minute session on the treadmill he heads over to a rusty weight bench, next to which is his training bag. Duvall reaches into his bag and pulls out some white tape and begins to wrap this round his hands. After satisfying himself with the number of layers he has put on, he walks over to a heavy punching bag. As he gets close, he jogs the last few steps before assuming a southpaw boxing stance. He throws a few high right jabs, before a low left hook. He repeats the combo a few times, before changing it up. Right body jab, left head, left cross. Left jab, left jab, left uppercut. The combos become quicker and harder, never repeating. This display begins to attract a small crowd of 4 or 5 people, about half the patrons of the gym, which Duvall ignores. After a few minutes, Duvall throws a right backfist, left backfist, right heel kick combo which tears a hole in the heavy bag. One of the onlookers applauds, two are impressed and can merely utter the word "Whoa...", but the fourth is not pleased.
Fourth Man: God fuckin' damn it! I was gonna use that bag after you, you asshole! What, you think that you can treat this place how you like because you're some hotshot wrestler?
Duvall eyes the broken heavy bag with disdain, before scoffing and turning to the irate man as if noticing him for the first time.
Matt Duvall: I'm sorry, did you say something? I wasn't paying attention.
The man walks up to Duvall and tries to go nose to nose with him. Duvall takes a few steps back with an unimpressed and unconcerned look on his face.
Duvall: It seems you have a problem with me...could you express that from a distance, so I don't have to smell your mouldy hot dog breath. Why is it always the ones with awful breath...?
The man's levels of fury increase, and his face starts to glow red.
Man: You son of a bitch! I'm sick of how you act every time you come to this fucking place. You come swaggering around here, like you own the place, wreck our shit, look down on us...this is the end! Get in that fucking ring, I'll take you on. I've seen enough of that pussy wrestling shit to know you're a fuckin' fairy. I'll beat the shit out of you.
This outburst attacts even more attention than Duvall's workout on the heavy bag. Duvall sighs and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head, before making his way towards the boxing ring.
Duvall: So many idiots, so little time. I have got to stop mixing with the public.
The other patron and Duvall enter the ring and the man takes a loose boxing stance, while Duvall saunters round the ring looking decidedly uninterested. The man throws a few jabs at Duvall, which are easily dodged as Duvall simply pads around the ring, committing little effort whatsoever. A few kicks are aimed his way but, again, Duvall simply dodges them with ease and walks around the ring. After this is repeated a few times, the other man stops and glares at him.
Man: I brought you in this ring to fight, you fuckin' pussy. Now put 'em up and fight me.
Duvall scoffs again, and eyes the other man as if looking at a simple child.
Duvall: I don't recall being brought in here...I vividly remember walking in this ring myself. I will also remember walking out of it. A courtesy I'm not certain I'll be extending to you. I'm just making this last as long as possible because, as you rightly said, this IS the end. Unfortunately for you, it's your end. I just wanted to give you a little bit longer but, if you're eager to finish now, I suppose I can do that to.
Without warning, or waiting for the other man to prepare himself again, Duvall charges and spears the other man, who drops to the canvass. Duvall climbs onto the man's chest and starts to rain punches, forearm shots and elbows to the face and head. The man cries out and, within a few moments, his face is half covered in a blood mask. Duvall steps off him, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him up onto his feet. The man looks unsteady, but Duvall is relentless and aims a spinning front kick at his jaw which knocks him to the ground again, this time face down. Duvall takes the man's arms and pulls him half up, before placing his foot on the man's back and Curb Stomping him. By now the man is crying out in agony, but this doesn't dissuade his attacker from continuing the punishment, as Duvall locks him in a Rear Naked Choke. The man struggles to catch his breath, his windpipe narrowed under the immense pressure of the hold. Duvall speaks softly into the man's ear.
Duvall: Do you feel that? I mean, aside from the feeling of those desperate gasps of air failing to satisfy your body's need for oxygen. Aside from the feeling of blood mixing with the tears in your eyes. Do you feel what all of this is deep down? This is Pain. This is the first part of The Design...the beginning of the End.
The other man's eyes widen in fear and Duvall merely smiles.
Duvall: Don't worry yourself...on another day, in another place, I might have killed you. You're quite safe here amongst witnesses. But you will remember this feeling. You will remember Pain.
Duvall releases the hold and the man gasps for air, almost hyperventilating. Duvall stands up and surveys the sight of his fallen adversary. He shakes his head and gives a half hearted chuckle, but his face is devoid of any happiness. He exits the ring and picks up his training bag, as several fellow gymgoers stop the recordings on their phones, and go to check on the man in the ring.
Duvall: That's quite enough working out for today, I think.
-----------------
The Lone Ranger. The kid with a dream. The kid who thought he would win it all...
The kid who will be brought to Earth with a bang.
I'm sure you thought your career would be long and fulfilling, adorned with titles and accolades, impressing millions and winning over doubters, supported by those who might care for you. Well I'm afraid Tonto and Silver are a long way away, Ranger. At Wrestle Extravaganza, when that first bell rings, it's just you and me in that ring. On one hand, we have the man who took down a Hall of Famer in his PCW debut, and then on the other hand there's the guy who couldn't even beat an overweight grandma. What you are is nothing but a joke. Your mere existence in this business is poison to people like me. People with talent, people with credibility...
People with a future.
People who don't have to face The Design.
You see, Ranger, I'm sick of seeing you prancing round PCW claiming you'll do this, claiming you'll do that, and claiming you'll do the other, only to fall at every hurdle put in front of you. Future champion? I think not. The only thing I've ever claimed I'll do in this company was beat Draven Logan Kennedy at Slamathon. Do you know what I've done in this company? Beaten Draven Logan Kennedy. I keep to my promises, Ranger, so consider this my promise to you. Not only will I make you my second scalp in this company, I will be your end. I will bring about the end of your one man campaign to make wrestlers look stupid, just like you. I will submit you to The Design.
Existence only ends through The Design, the End of all things, that everyone will endure. The Design is all there is at the End. At Wrestle Extravaganza, you will be introduced to the first part of The Design. You will experience Pain. But fear not, I will not leave you unfulfilled after the match and your ending will be swift. You will come to know the rest of The Design. After suffering through Pain, you will come to know Despair, Malevolence and Plague. The harshness of life is reflected in The Design and, this Saturday, it will grind you down, break you and crush you into the nothing that you are.
The End of all things is coming.
It all ends through The Design.
Fourth Man: God fuckin' damn it! I was gonna use that bag after you, you asshole! What, you think that you can treat this place how you like because you're some hotshot wrestler?
Duvall eyes the broken heavy bag with disdain, before scoffing and turning to the irate man as if noticing him for the first time.
Matt Duvall: I'm sorry, did you say something? I wasn't paying attention.
The man walks up to Duvall and tries to go nose to nose with him. Duvall takes a few steps back with an unimpressed and unconcerned look on his face.
Duvall: It seems you have a problem with me...could you express that from a distance, so I don't have to smell your mouldy hot dog breath. Why is it always the ones with awful breath...?
The man's levels of fury increase, and his face starts to glow red.
Man: You son of a bitch! I'm sick of how you act every time you come to this fucking place. You come swaggering around here, like you own the place, wreck our shit, look down on us...this is the end! Get in that fucking ring, I'll take you on. I've seen enough of that pussy wrestling shit to know you're a fuckin' fairy. I'll beat the shit out of you.
This outburst attacts even more attention than Duvall's workout on the heavy bag. Duvall sighs and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head, before making his way towards the boxing ring.
Duvall: So many idiots, so little time. I have got to stop mixing with the public.
The other patron and Duvall enter the ring and the man takes a loose boxing stance, while Duvall saunters round the ring looking decidedly uninterested. The man throws a few jabs at Duvall, which are easily dodged as Duvall simply pads around the ring, committing little effort whatsoever. A few kicks are aimed his way but, again, Duvall simply dodges them with ease and walks around the ring. After this is repeated a few times, the other man stops and glares at him.
Man: I brought you in this ring to fight, you fuckin' pussy. Now put 'em up and fight me.
Duvall scoffs again, and eyes the other man as if looking at a simple child.
Duvall: I don't recall being brought in here...I vividly remember walking in this ring myself. I will also remember walking out of it. A courtesy I'm not certain I'll be extending to you. I'm just making this last as long as possible because, as you rightly said, this IS the end. Unfortunately for you, it's your end. I just wanted to give you a little bit longer but, if you're eager to finish now, I suppose I can do that to.
Without warning, or waiting for the other man to prepare himself again, Duvall charges and spears the other man, who drops to the canvass. Duvall climbs onto the man's chest and starts to rain punches, forearm shots and elbows to the face and head. The man cries out and, within a few moments, his face is half covered in a blood mask. Duvall steps off him, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him up onto his feet. The man looks unsteady, but Duvall is relentless and aims a spinning front kick at his jaw which knocks him to the ground again, this time face down. Duvall takes the man's arms and pulls him half up, before placing his foot on the man's back and Curb Stomping him. By now the man is crying out in agony, but this doesn't dissuade his attacker from continuing the punishment, as Duvall locks him in a Rear Naked Choke. The man struggles to catch his breath, his windpipe narrowed under the immense pressure of the hold. Duvall speaks softly into the man's ear.
Duvall: Do you feel that? I mean, aside from the feeling of those desperate gasps of air failing to satisfy your body's need for oxygen. Aside from the feeling of blood mixing with the tears in your eyes. Do you feel what all of this is deep down? This is Pain. This is the first part of The Design...the beginning of the End.
The other man's eyes widen in fear and Duvall merely smiles.
Duvall: Don't worry yourself...on another day, in another place, I might have killed you. You're quite safe here amongst witnesses. But you will remember this feeling. You will remember Pain.
Duvall releases the hold and the man gasps for air, almost hyperventilating. Duvall stands up and surveys the sight of his fallen adversary. He shakes his head and gives a half hearted chuckle, but his face is devoid of any happiness. He exits the ring and picks up his training bag, as several fellow gymgoers stop the recordings on their phones, and go to check on the man in the ring.
Duvall: That's quite enough working out for today, I think.
-----------------
The Lone Ranger. The kid with a dream. The kid who thought he would win it all...
The kid who will be brought to Earth with a bang.
I'm sure you thought your career would be long and fulfilling, adorned with titles and accolades, impressing millions and winning over doubters, supported by those who might care for you. Well I'm afraid Tonto and Silver are a long way away, Ranger. At Wrestle Extravaganza, when that first bell rings, it's just you and me in that ring. On one hand, we have the man who took down a Hall of Famer in his PCW debut, and then on the other hand there's the guy who couldn't even beat an overweight grandma. What you are is nothing but a joke. Your mere existence in this business is poison to people like me. People with talent, people with credibility...
People with a future.
People who don't have to face The Design.
You see, Ranger, I'm sick of seeing you prancing round PCW claiming you'll do this, claiming you'll do that, and claiming you'll do the other, only to fall at every hurdle put in front of you. Future champion? I think not. The only thing I've ever claimed I'll do in this company was beat Draven Logan Kennedy at Slamathon. Do you know what I've done in this company? Beaten Draven Logan Kennedy. I keep to my promises, Ranger, so consider this my promise to you. Not only will I make you my second scalp in this company, I will be your end. I will bring about the end of your one man campaign to make wrestlers look stupid, just like you. I will submit you to The Design.
Existence only ends through The Design, the End of all things, that everyone will endure. The Design is all there is at the End. At Wrestle Extravaganza, you will be introduced to the first part of The Design. You will experience Pain. But fear not, I will not leave you unfulfilled after the match and your ending will be swift. You will come to know the rest of The Design. After suffering through Pain, you will come to know Despair, Malevolence and Plague. The harshness of life is reflected in The Design and, this Saturday, it will grind you down, break you and crush you into the nothing that you are.
The End of all things is coming.
It all ends through The Design.