Post by The Predator on Jul 3, 2012 18:08:09 GMT -6
The Predator is seen stalking out of a hotel lobby, clearly fuming, and the camera is immediately struggling to keep up with him. He acknowledges it with a withering glare, and keeps walking. The cameraman is clearly struggling to keep up with him, and follows him for several minutes at a distance. Ultimately, they arrive at his gym, and the frame shakes with a start as the big man rips the padlock off with his bare hands. We follow Predator inside with a timid caution.
The Predator begins a grave, strenuous workout with an intensity that appears almost animalistic. He throws truck tires around the room. He beats them with a heavy sledgehammer. He performs pull-ups with just spring and fury that the pull-up bar begins to buckle. He executes one-armed pushups until the puddle of sweat beneath him is expansive and disgusting.
All the while, he is grunting out obscenities and curses, and names. Hawk. Prophet. Mischoff. Upon finishing a routine of tremendous difficulty, Predator lashes out with a superkick, breaking a hole in the wall. He snarls, pulls at his hair, and stares at the camera.
"Is that piece of shit on?"
The camera man stammers, but is cut off.
"Broadcast this to the entire damn world. Last week, I was going to win the world title. I was the fan's pick to win the damn match, and Matt 'Big Pussy' And the False Idol, Max Prophet, attack me backstage. They attack me, taking advantage of my good sportsmanship while I'm trying to sign a damn autograph for a fan, and put me out of the competition. Why, Max? Why, Matt? Because you are both terrified of me. I was going to win the title clean, beating the tar out of Prophet in the process, and that would mean, because he can't beat me, that Hawk would never get a taste. I get it, bitches, I get it. But to handle that fear in the way you did? Well, now, you have my attention. And I'm going to make you pay."
His face is beat red, and he is clearly, clearly infuriated.
"Step One: Beat the holy hell out of everybody in my way to grab that briefcase. Step 2: Use the briefcase and become champion, like I should be right now. Step 3: Keep it from you two chuckleheads. Step 4: Profit. I'm done being the bigger man. I'm done giving the USPW my back and a target for the knife. It's time I took what I've earned. I'm coming for the briefcase. Then I'm taking the title. And if anybody has anything to say about that, get in the ring, like a man, and just try and stop me!"
He shoves the camera, and the screen goes black.
The Predator begins a grave, strenuous workout with an intensity that appears almost animalistic. He throws truck tires around the room. He beats them with a heavy sledgehammer. He performs pull-ups with just spring and fury that the pull-up bar begins to buckle. He executes one-armed pushups until the puddle of sweat beneath him is expansive and disgusting.
All the while, he is grunting out obscenities and curses, and names. Hawk. Prophet. Mischoff. Upon finishing a routine of tremendous difficulty, Predator lashes out with a superkick, breaking a hole in the wall. He snarls, pulls at his hair, and stares at the camera.
"Is that piece of shit on?"
The camera man stammers, but is cut off.
"Broadcast this to the entire damn world. Last week, I was going to win the world title. I was the fan's pick to win the damn match, and Matt 'Big Pussy' And the False Idol, Max Prophet, attack me backstage. They attack me, taking advantage of my good sportsmanship while I'm trying to sign a damn autograph for a fan, and put me out of the competition. Why, Max? Why, Matt? Because you are both terrified of me. I was going to win the title clean, beating the tar out of Prophet in the process, and that would mean, because he can't beat me, that Hawk would never get a taste. I get it, bitches, I get it. But to handle that fear in the way you did? Well, now, you have my attention. And I'm going to make you pay."
His face is beat red, and he is clearly, clearly infuriated.
"Step One: Beat the holy hell out of everybody in my way to grab that briefcase. Step 2: Use the briefcase and become champion, like I should be right now. Step 3: Keep it from you two chuckleheads. Step 4: Profit. I'm done being the bigger man. I'm done giving the USPW my back and a target for the knife. It's time I took what I've earned. I'm coming for the briefcase. Then I'm taking the title. And if anybody has anything to say about that, get in the ring, like a man, and just try and stop me!"
He shoves the camera, and the screen goes black.