Post by Mr. Showtime on Dec 11, 2015 13:29:49 GMT -5
History is written by the victors. It is clear that through the annals of time that unsuccessful thwarts at the established are always swept under the rug. The American Revolution was a pivotal moment in the birth of a great nation. However, if it had failed, the Colonial Revolt of 1776 would be a footnote in the textbooks of the Glorious British Empire. In ancient history if a civilization fell to a superior power they would raze their cities and destroy their culture to a point where they never existed in the first place. That is the reality of the world.
Eira is the last bit of a forgotten revolt. One of many to try and get in the way of the Black Hand. All who’ve tried have failed and most have vanished. Individuals have been able to score minor victories over the collective, Eira having one or two herself, but none big enough to knock the goliath off their rung. Her forgotten partners Murdoc and Monroe have practically ceased to exist. Her seedy back ally alliances have blown up in her face. As the flag bearer she has led the revolt long after it was extinguished.
She has been broken and battered, and yet she persists. Even after it was established that the only people that could stand up to the Black Hand are the Black Hand themselves. It is time to let foolish endeavors die. It is time to stop pushing yourself. The Black Hand has moved on. They don’t actively seek to annihilate all of the competition, because the deed has already been complete. The Black Hand has won and it is time that people like Eira stop punishing themselves.
“Those are some fancy words you’re scribing there,” came a harsh voice that broke the concentration of “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. Showtime had been working on speeches all night. Most of which made reference to the policies that he’s put in place if he is elected. Others in response to the ridiculous suggestions that his fellow candidates are making. Some might as well throw the constitution in with a good old fashion book burning.
Somewhere along the lines he began to work on a speech that was directed towards Eira and their upcoming match. Showtime didn’t mean for it to start but the words just flowed from his finger tips. He thought it ironic that he had to face her again. This would be the third pay-per-view in a row that the two would meet. While Showtime had shown consistent success Eira had almost up and vanished. It was almost like she had some pull in the back. Since she failed to take down Sadistic now he sights were locked upon Showtime.
“How did you get in here?” asked Showtime without turning around. He cleared his throat since his private study had begun to fill with thick grey smoke. He recognized the harsh voice of the man that confronted him on Halloween.
“You’re not President yet, Mikey. You secret service detail won’t begin until next December.”
“Knock on wood,” replied Showtime with a grin.
“Interesting, you don’t take me at the superstitious type.”
“I’m not, just keeping the woodland spirits happy,” Showtime waited to see if the smoking man got the reference to the origins of the old wives’ tale. The man just casually stared at Showtime and knocked out the remainder of his cigarette in the palm of his hand. He proceeded to light another immediately after, making Showtime think that this man may only breathe tobacco rather than oxygen.
“These games tire me, Michael. You sit around at the Pure Class offices pretending to be president. You make minor jabs at your competition like some spoiled brat. How do you ever expect anyone to take you serious? If ever you had a chance to become president it is now. Donald Trump may have the lead, but I guarantee you that the American public will wake up soon enough. Proposing to ban an entire religious sect of people will start the beginning of his downfall. On his way down he will take with him the Democrat nominee, probably Hillary, in an amazing display of mudslinging.”
“If you are asking for a job, I already have a political advisor.”
“Don’t be a fool, Michael. There is more on the Black Hand’s agenda than getting you into the White House. This is bigger than any of us combined. You need to make sure you accomplish this task. You make sure that you keep your head low and wait for those strategic points to strike. In most election years if a movie-star wrestler were to run you’d be all over the tabloids. They would walk you out to the Hanging Tree and your campaign would have ended before it began. Look at them now. They take very little notice of you and when they do they speak about you being refreshing. About having a take on both sides of the aisle. The country need that independent leader that isn’t linked to big business, but also doesn’t sap over every bleeding heart. Do not waste your opportunity for greatness by not taking this seriously.”
“How dare you,” Showtime bellowed. Everything that he’d given up for the Black Hand begun to rush back to his mind. All of his sacrifices lost for the greater good. “Don’t tell me about taking this seriously…”
“Boo-hoo, let’s get ready for the river of tears that has already happened. I hope you realize that I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t begun to stray from the path. I don’t care about what you’ve done. What you’ve done has got you here. What you’ll do is what you should be thinking. This was never going to be an easy task for you Michael. You know that as much as we do, but you are letting this sense of what you deserve catch up to you again. Is your memory so short that you forgot that your sense of self entitlement is what made you lose the Icemann Invitational? You got to the point where you were convinced that you were going to win, and you let fate take over where determination was necessary.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. You have the opportunity now to decide your own future. Though this will not happen on its own, it must be you who finishes. This has been your story since day one Michael. Though you keep giving your role to others. The World Championship was yours, but you gave it to Sadistic now look at him. The Tournament would have been yours as well, and yet you gave that to Sean Rhodes. Are you going to give Eira the gratification of a victory after you cemented yourself ultimate victory the last time around? If you come up short this time it will only be you to blame. The battles you fight here are directly linked to the perceptions that the American people have of you. You can use this on the road and capitalize on the inadequacies of your fellow running mates. It’s time to strike while the metal is hot.”
Showtime waited for the man to continue his tirade, but when Showtime looked his way he was gone. The only proof that he was there at all were a few crushed cigarette buds and the lingering smell of tobacco. It was a hard thing for Showtime to comprehend not trusting in fate. So much of his purpose seemed steeped in this mythical force, but the man was right. Fate could take you only so far. Showtime looked down at his speech to Eira and wrote one last sentence.
It’s time that Eira take her rightful place in history, just another forgotten footnote.
Eira is the last bit of a forgotten revolt. One of many to try and get in the way of the Black Hand. All who’ve tried have failed and most have vanished. Individuals have been able to score minor victories over the collective, Eira having one or two herself, but none big enough to knock the goliath off their rung. Her forgotten partners Murdoc and Monroe have practically ceased to exist. Her seedy back ally alliances have blown up in her face. As the flag bearer she has led the revolt long after it was extinguished.
She has been broken and battered, and yet she persists. Even after it was established that the only people that could stand up to the Black Hand are the Black Hand themselves. It is time to let foolish endeavors die. It is time to stop pushing yourself. The Black Hand has moved on. They don’t actively seek to annihilate all of the competition, because the deed has already been complete. The Black Hand has won and it is time that people like Eira stop punishing themselves.
“Those are some fancy words you’re scribing there,” came a harsh voice that broke the concentration of “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. Showtime had been working on speeches all night. Most of which made reference to the policies that he’s put in place if he is elected. Others in response to the ridiculous suggestions that his fellow candidates are making. Some might as well throw the constitution in with a good old fashion book burning.
Somewhere along the lines he began to work on a speech that was directed towards Eira and their upcoming match. Showtime didn’t mean for it to start but the words just flowed from his finger tips. He thought it ironic that he had to face her again. This would be the third pay-per-view in a row that the two would meet. While Showtime had shown consistent success Eira had almost up and vanished. It was almost like she had some pull in the back. Since she failed to take down Sadistic now he sights were locked upon Showtime.
“How did you get in here?” asked Showtime without turning around. He cleared his throat since his private study had begun to fill with thick grey smoke. He recognized the harsh voice of the man that confronted him on Halloween.
“You’re not President yet, Mikey. You secret service detail won’t begin until next December.”
“Knock on wood,” replied Showtime with a grin.
“Interesting, you don’t take me at the superstitious type.”
“I’m not, just keeping the woodland spirits happy,” Showtime waited to see if the smoking man got the reference to the origins of the old wives’ tale. The man just casually stared at Showtime and knocked out the remainder of his cigarette in the palm of his hand. He proceeded to light another immediately after, making Showtime think that this man may only breathe tobacco rather than oxygen.
“These games tire me, Michael. You sit around at the Pure Class offices pretending to be president. You make minor jabs at your competition like some spoiled brat. How do you ever expect anyone to take you serious? If ever you had a chance to become president it is now. Donald Trump may have the lead, but I guarantee you that the American public will wake up soon enough. Proposing to ban an entire religious sect of people will start the beginning of his downfall. On his way down he will take with him the Democrat nominee, probably Hillary, in an amazing display of mudslinging.”
“If you are asking for a job, I already have a political advisor.”
“Don’t be a fool, Michael. There is more on the Black Hand’s agenda than getting you into the White House. This is bigger than any of us combined. You need to make sure you accomplish this task. You make sure that you keep your head low and wait for those strategic points to strike. In most election years if a movie-star wrestler were to run you’d be all over the tabloids. They would walk you out to the Hanging Tree and your campaign would have ended before it began. Look at them now. They take very little notice of you and when they do they speak about you being refreshing. About having a take on both sides of the aisle. The country need that independent leader that isn’t linked to big business, but also doesn’t sap over every bleeding heart. Do not waste your opportunity for greatness by not taking this seriously.”
“How dare you,” Showtime bellowed. Everything that he’d given up for the Black Hand begun to rush back to his mind. All of his sacrifices lost for the greater good. “Don’t tell me about taking this seriously…”
“Boo-hoo, let’s get ready for the river of tears that has already happened. I hope you realize that I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t begun to stray from the path. I don’t care about what you’ve done. What you’ve done has got you here. What you’ll do is what you should be thinking. This was never going to be an easy task for you Michael. You know that as much as we do, but you are letting this sense of what you deserve catch up to you again. Is your memory so short that you forgot that your sense of self entitlement is what made you lose the Icemann Invitational? You got to the point where you were convinced that you were going to win, and you let fate take over where determination was necessary.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. You have the opportunity now to decide your own future. Though this will not happen on its own, it must be you who finishes. This has been your story since day one Michael. Though you keep giving your role to others. The World Championship was yours, but you gave it to Sadistic now look at him. The Tournament would have been yours as well, and yet you gave that to Sean Rhodes. Are you going to give Eira the gratification of a victory after you cemented yourself ultimate victory the last time around? If you come up short this time it will only be you to blame. The battles you fight here are directly linked to the perceptions that the American people have of you. You can use this on the road and capitalize on the inadequacies of your fellow running mates. It’s time to strike while the metal is hot.”
Showtime waited for the man to continue his tirade, but when Showtime looked his way he was gone. The only proof that he was there at all were a few crushed cigarette buds and the lingering smell of tobacco. It was a hard thing for Showtime to comprehend not trusting in fate. So much of his purpose seemed steeped in this mythical force, but the man was right. Fate could take you only so far. Showtime looked down at his speech to Eira and wrote one last sentence.
It’s time that Eira take her rightful place in history, just another forgotten footnote.
