Post by gravedigger on Sept 27, 2006 6:09:52 GMT -5
"Mister Striker, a contract has been sent to you," the agent said.
The figure looked up and glared at the scrawny man. Once more he was bothered with a contract. He was not interested in joining a reformed EWWF. He hated the owner.... how could the foolish man be so well... foolish? PCW was his life now, the owner of EWWF Scott Smithson was a fool to think otherwise. Scott knew Striker as Gravedigger. Scott knew Striker as the Phenomonom who could make money by losing all the matches except title matches. Striker had no desire to go back to that life. To intentionally losing because it paid a higher paycheck.
"I'm not interested," Striker growled.
The agent blinked, "Sir... its a contract for your PCW match at Trauma. You'll be up against Zaccheo Ortiz in a standard match. You beat Diehard and you're still a curtain jerker sir. You should have known this would happen."
"It happened because the event is booked. I have important contacts to reach. I don't think Silence will be interested in my offer, but I still have yet to reach Grimm. Perhaps then it may be reborn... the way it should be..." Striker mused.
"Reborn?" The agent asked.
Striker chuckled as he stood up from his chair and looked around the foyer of the comfortable mansion, "There was once a group of like minded wrestlers who were morbid... funny... serious... devoted... loyal.. sometimes suicidal and homicidal. They were the Freaks of Nature my friend. They didn't just act as a unit. They brought stable warfare to a whole new level. When other groups disbanded over differences, the Freaks stayed loyal. I want to recreate that. I want... new allies and friends. This isn't STW I can't just bring along my friends for the ride."
"Sir... Zaccheo Ortiz is who you should be worrying about... not the Freaks..." The agent protested.
"Maybe not... thats my choice... but I do believe my... alter ego does have a message for Zaccheo Ortiz."
The agent blinked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean.... " Striker began.
As the words came out he stood stall and stepped closer, his face covered by the half skull. No... Jason Striker wasn't there... Striker was absent from the room...
Gravedigger was in.
[]
Gravedigger stands in the graveyard... alone. His eyes aren't narrowed, his expression isn't angry, nor smug, nor happy. He is devoid of emotion as he stares the camera in the eye, and he is standing tall, his arms folded. His trench coat flows down to the grass, and the paint on his half skull mask gleams. As the camera fully focuses on him he raises his hands.. in his right hand he holds up the finger for "one." In his left he makes a "zero."
Gravedigger: "One... and zero. One win... zero defeats. Bob Diehard you tried... and you ended up... just as I said you would. You were hit with the Burial. Thus... you fell. Thus you went down. But this is not about Bob Diehard. This message is not recorded for you Mr. Diehard. This message is recorded for one Zaccheo Ortiz... my opponent at Trauma. Mr. Ortiz... you won't hear me saying that I will Bury you Alive... you won't see me show off a gravestone with your name on it... I'll tell you why."
Gravedigger pauses a long moment trying to figure out the right words to say...
Gravedigger: "I may be a rookie in PCW... but I am far from a rookie when it comes to wrestling. With that said... I WILL say may the best man win. See kid, my whole life I've had to deal with people doubting me. I was... insulted and hated because I was so tall at such young ages. I was often attacked by the local bullies, and while I could have easily kicked the crap out of them... I didn't. Would you like to know why? I was above that childish behavior. But I took it anyway. I was always a suspect whenever a crime happened in my neighborhood just because I looked dangerous. I wore black and a trench coat every day of my life. I had to constantly defend who I was."
Gravedigger pauses again and smiles almost sadly...
Gravedigger: "Nobody should have to constantly defend themself. If someone is two feet tall they shouldn't have to defend themself. If someone is eight feel tall they shouldn't have to defend themself. Catholics shouldn't have to defend their beliefs... neither should Pagans nor Muslims nor Jewish people. Hetero, Bisexual, even Homosexual shouldn't have to defend themselves. White, Black, Latino, European, Asian, Austrialian... nobody should have to defend themselves based on who the hell they are!"
With his exclamation his eyes finally do narrow....
Gravedigger: "And that is why I entered the ring Zaccheo Ortiz. Because the ring is the one place I can go and not have to defend myself verbally. It is the one place where fans don't call me a Freak and mean it as a bad thing. I AM a Freak of Nature and I am DAMN PROUD OF IT. So you see Zaccheo Ortiz... you may have reasons unknown for wrestling... but you are new to the game never the less it seems. Whatever you do kid... don't give up in this business. Don't let people drag you down. You might make enemies or friends... but do not let them drag you down. Bask in what the crowd thinks. Bask in it and enjoy it. Certainly next week at Trauma I have no intention to lose... but I have no intention to fight you with the same anger as I did to Mr. Diehard. Because one can fight me as a wrestler... or as an enemy. As a wrestler... thats exactly what we do. We wrestle. I take my enemies and I refuse to bend them to their will and I bury them. But Zaccheo Ortiz... I have a feeling you have a long and prosperous career ahead of you... so I say this... let anyone who puts you down... be prepared to buried alive. And let you and I have a damn good match, may the best man win."
Gravedigger turns and he slowly walks away as mist fills the area....
[[The cameras slowly fade to dark as we go to the PCW logo and then to a commercial.]]
"Phone is for you Sir," The agent said.
Striker had indeed taped and sent the message to be aired. Yes... perhaps this new career in PCW would be the way it should be. Perfect and enjoyable. Striker reached over and grabbed the phone, turning it on and putting it to his face.
"Hello?" Striker asked.
"Jason Jason this is Scott... you know... Scott from EWWF...." The voice on the line said enthusiastically.
Striker growled into the phone, "I know who you are. Don't call back again. I do not wish to help you reform your shit promotion. Last I checked you forced me to job to every single man on that roster except for the World Champion. You degraded me in EWWF and soiled my name."
"I know I know.. for that I am sorry... I thought you'd understand..." Scott tried to explain, "I never meant that..."
"I don't care. You can take your EWWF contracts and shove them up your ass Scott. I don't want to. PCW is my home now. I'm wrestling the likes of Zaccheo Ortiz, a rookie whose career is far more promising then anyone who joins your federation," Striker snapped back before hanging up the phone.
"Sir?" The agent asked.
"...get me tickets to our next destination. I'm going to fly out to the site of Trauma ahead of time. We've got work ahead of us... alot of hard training... Mr. Ortiz doesn't deserve to wrestle a half healthy Gravedigger, but the full personna."
"Yes sir."
The figure looked up and glared at the scrawny man. Once more he was bothered with a contract. He was not interested in joining a reformed EWWF. He hated the owner.... how could the foolish man be so well... foolish? PCW was his life now, the owner of EWWF Scott Smithson was a fool to think otherwise. Scott knew Striker as Gravedigger. Scott knew Striker as the Phenomonom who could make money by losing all the matches except title matches. Striker had no desire to go back to that life. To intentionally losing because it paid a higher paycheck.
"I'm not interested," Striker growled.
The agent blinked, "Sir... its a contract for your PCW match at Trauma. You'll be up against Zaccheo Ortiz in a standard match. You beat Diehard and you're still a curtain jerker sir. You should have known this would happen."
"It happened because the event is booked. I have important contacts to reach. I don't think Silence will be interested in my offer, but I still have yet to reach Grimm. Perhaps then it may be reborn... the way it should be..." Striker mused.
"Reborn?" The agent asked.
Striker chuckled as he stood up from his chair and looked around the foyer of the comfortable mansion, "There was once a group of like minded wrestlers who were morbid... funny... serious... devoted... loyal.. sometimes suicidal and homicidal. They were the Freaks of Nature my friend. They didn't just act as a unit. They brought stable warfare to a whole new level. When other groups disbanded over differences, the Freaks stayed loyal. I want to recreate that. I want... new allies and friends. This isn't STW I can't just bring along my friends for the ride."
"Sir... Zaccheo Ortiz is who you should be worrying about... not the Freaks..." The agent protested.
"Maybe not... thats my choice... but I do believe my... alter ego does have a message for Zaccheo Ortiz."
The agent blinked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean.... " Striker began.
As the words came out he stood stall and stepped closer, his face covered by the half skull. No... Jason Striker wasn't there... Striker was absent from the room...
Gravedigger was in.
[]
Gravedigger stands in the graveyard... alone. His eyes aren't narrowed, his expression isn't angry, nor smug, nor happy. He is devoid of emotion as he stares the camera in the eye, and he is standing tall, his arms folded. His trench coat flows down to the grass, and the paint on his half skull mask gleams. As the camera fully focuses on him he raises his hands.. in his right hand he holds up the finger for "one." In his left he makes a "zero."
Gravedigger: "One... and zero. One win... zero defeats. Bob Diehard you tried... and you ended up... just as I said you would. You were hit with the Burial. Thus... you fell. Thus you went down. But this is not about Bob Diehard. This message is not recorded for you Mr. Diehard. This message is recorded for one Zaccheo Ortiz... my opponent at Trauma. Mr. Ortiz... you won't hear me saying that I will Bury you Alive... you won't see me show off a gravestone with your name on it... I'll tell you why."
Gravedigger pauses a long moment trying to figure out the right words to say...
Gravedigger: "I may be a rookie in PCW... but I am far from a rookie when it comes to wrestling. With that said... I WILL say may the best man win. See kid, my whole life I've had to deal with people doubting me. I was... insulted and hated because I was so tall at such young ages. I was often attacked by the local bullies, and while I could have easily kicked the crap out of them... I didn't. Would you like to know why? I was above that childish behavior. But I took it anyway. I was always a suspect whenever a crime happened in my neighborhood just because I looked dangerous. I wore black and a trench coat every day of my life. I had to constantly defend who I was."
Gravedigger pauses again and smiles almost sadly...
Gravedigger: "Nobody should have to constantly defend themself. If someone is two feet tall they shouldn't have to defend themself. If someone is eight feel tall they shouldn't have to defend themself. Catholics shouldn't have to defend their beliefs... neither should Pagans nor Muslims nor Jewish people. Hetero, Bisexual, even Homosexual shouldn't have to defend themselves. White, Black, Latino, European, Asian, Austrialian... nobody should have to defend themselves based on who the hell they are!"
With his exclamation his eyes finally do narrow....
Gravedigger: "And that is why I entered the ring Zaccheo Ortiz. Because the ring is the one place I can go and not have to defend myself verbally. It is the one place where fans don't call me a Freak and mean it as a bad thing. I AM a Freak of Nature and I am DAMN PROUD OF IT. So you see Zaccheo Ortiz... you may have reasons unknown for wrestling... but you are new to the game never the less it seems. Whatever you do kid... don't give up in this business. Don't let people drag you down. You might make enemies or friends... but do not let them drag you down. Bask in what the crowd thinks. Bask in it and enjoy it. Certainly next week at Trauma I have no intention to lose... but I have no intention to fight you with the same anger as I did to Mr. Diehard. Because one can fight me as a wrestler... or as an enemy. As a wrestler... thats exactly what we do. We wrestle. I take my enemies and I refuse to bend them to their will and I bury them. But Zaccheo Ortiz... I have a feeling you have a long and prosperous career ahead of you... so I say this... let anyone who puts you down... be prepared to buried alive. And let you and I have a damn good match, may the best man win."
Gravedigger turns and he slowly walks away as mist fills the area....
[[The cameras slowly fade to dark as we go to the PCW logo and then to a commercial.]]
"Phone is for you Sir," The agent said.
Striker had indeed taped and sent the message to be aired. Yes... perhaps this new career in PCW would be the way it should be. Perfect and enjoyable. Striker reached over and grabbed the phone, turning it on and putting it to his face.
"Hello?" Striker asked.
"Jason Jason this is Scott... you know... Scott from EWWF...." The voice on the line said enthusiastically.
Striker growled into the phone, "I know who you are. Don't call back again. I do not wish to help you reform your shit promotion. Last I checked you forced me to job to every single man on that roster except for the World Champion. You degraded me in EWWF and soiled my name."
"I know I know.. for that I am sorry... I thought you'd understand..." Scott tried to explain, "I never meant that..."
"I don't care. You can take your EWWF contracts and shove them up your ass Scott. I don't want to. PCW is my home now. I'm wrestling the likes of Zaccheo Ortiz, a rookie whose career is far more promising then anyone who joins your federation," Striker snapped back before hanging up the phone.
"Sir?" The agent asked.
"...get me tickets to our next destination. I'm going to fly out to the site of Trauma ahead of time. We've got work ahead of us... alot of hard training... Mr. Ortiz doesn't deserve to wrestle a half healthy Gravedigger, but the full personna."
"Yes sir."