Post by Kyle on Feb 26, 2012 17:09:03 GMT -5
"Fighting in the World Championship Match or losing four matches in a row, my name is on the tip of everyone's tongue."
Visual feed follows, and viewers see Nathan von Liebert seated in the bathtub of some bathroom. He's wearing a dirty wifebeather along with jean shorts and converse shoes. His knees are drawn to his chest, face buried in them. But even so, when the words begin to speak, they are heard clearly.
"It is something like that defines the word 'superstar.' Someone who is always talked about even they're losing every week. When Nathan was winning, people asked when Nathan would stumble. Now he's losing, and people ask if he will ever get back on track. They did the same thing with Jay Price. They are stars. But no one talks about Zombie McMorris. Joel Hall is not the center of discussion on wrestling forums and chats. Even the most serious wrestling fans have to be reminded who Don DeBeers is. They aren't stars in this business like he is. Not was, but is.
The question has been asked if this week would be the week that Nathan break this losing streak. Well the answer is. . ."
Nathan looks up, and the answer is given without Nathan moving his lips.
"Sure."
Wait, Nathan didn't move his lips. Why is he speaking in the third person? And is that a Russian accent hidden in some of the words.
"Win or lose, I will be breaking this losing streak for Nathan. It is times like this where I shine. You people know me as Vlad, and I must say it fits my personality. Vlad the Impaler, murderer of many. And he did it slowly, letting the life draw out of you at the pace he choose. Something I like to do. Dealing pain all in one go isn't fun. I like to make you hurt for hours instead of seconds. Because eventually you'll forget those moments of pain. But can you forget hours?
You people think Nathan is crazy when he tells you about me. It seems like he is boasting about the things I've done to people, but you people are wrong. Nathan is warning you when he tells you about me. I'm a killer, and killing you on television isn't something people wish to see. Oh, Nathan loves to deal out pain. But he wants to hurt you enough to get what he wants. But me? I have no desires to be sated. I share this body with Nathan. He keeps it fed, watered, taken care of. I get to relax, and during those brief times I pop out, I get to have fun.
I'm no figment of someone's imgination. I'm a person inside of a person. I'm a person who was born to fight in the Clockwork House. I don't need to call myself Zombie and curse in every sentence to be intimidating. I don't have to cram all of my thoughts about everyone in one burst of words like Donny boy. I don't have two personalities like Joel Hall. And I'm not Jay Price. So I'll take my time. It isn't like I'm going anywhere. . ."
A soft, menancing chuckle comes from Vlad. Nathan stands, and steps out of the tub. He walks up to the mirror, placing his hands on the sink. The camera gets to his left shoulder, looking at Nathan's reflection.
"Does he look like a crack addict?"
Black hair in wild directions. Pale Skin. Scary attire. Could you picture NvL doing crack?
"You know don't answer that. Really any answer you people could come up with it doesn't bother me. Frankly, I don't care. And I don't care about Joel Hall either. His respect is worthless in my eyes. Sure he can't win in the One Invitational, but Nathan can. Joel couldn't beat D-Day, but Nathan could. It is like saying you don't respect someone who pinned you three times in one match to beat you. But who cares? I don't.
Joel, you're an unimportant twit. You call Nathan a pysho to the world, and I won't deny it. Many people see a crazy man in Nathan. But he's still better in the ring than you are. He's still fought in better matches than you have. Won bigger matches than you. Won in an Invitational that you lost it. You try to bury Nathan as a mental patient but really you just make yourself worse. Because now it seems that a mental patient is a bigger star than you are."
This time Nathan laughs along with Vlad. Their laughs intertwine, adding a creepy twist to it. It appears on camera that two different laughs are coming from the same person.
"No crack or cocaine was involved when Nathan lost to Corey. And Nathan didn't lose any blood, else I would've appeared and crushed the man. No Nathan lost because he gets distracted. He is truly talented in the ring, and he knows it. So after winning seven matches in a row, his thoughts got clouded and he stumbled. Stumbled four times to be exact. But this hasn't diminished his career much. He was a star before fighting against Corey. I mean, everyone loses eventually. Black lost more in his career here than he's won. So no, Nathan still has a career to be proud of. A career that is steadily getting more padded with accomplishments. Can you say the same thing, Hall?
Just don't think Nathan will stumble in the madness that is forthcoming. He has lived with what people labeled as madness for twenty odd years. He has me inside of him, a dealer of pain and suffering. Could you imagine being five years old and wishing to stab your mother for fun? No, Nathan will be ready for Sunday. And then when my time comes, I'll be more than ready. I didn't need to train for this match; Nathan did all of that on his own. I merely waited, devised ideas and plans for when my time to shine comes. And you'll witness soon enough that I'm more than that Mexican you hired to play El Mideo.
Beat the living snot out of me; Nathan doesn't need his snot. But go down early before I beat the life out of you."
Vlad chuckles again. And unlike Nathan's cold laughs, Vlad's holds joy.
"Another ignorant curtain jerker is fighting in this match, and his name is Don. Really, the man thought calling Nathan the fastest falling star in WCF. But Nathan understands and he isn't hurt by the insult. Nathan knows Don insults him because Don knows he'll never be a star. Nathan had to rise up the ladder to fall down it. Don is still at the bottom rung.
And this isn't the only thing Nathan and I agree on after listening to you talk. We both agreed that this match won't be the match that revieves his career because it hasn't died. Even when losing, Nathan fought men like Logan, Black, and Fly. You, Don, have not fought anyone of importance. You said yourself that this match is no DQ. Well I am the King of fights when there are no rules."
The voice pauses, and Nathan looks around. The Devil's Right Hand is biting his lips, and he doesn't stop even when the voice resumes talking.
"And we both agreed that I wouldn't be coming to save him this week. We agreed that Nathan didn't need help against the likes of you. He said he could win this match when weapons weren't involved, and he would win with them involved. It is the mere fact that blood will be spilt that I'm going to make an appearance. Nathan is a tough bitch, but he isn't the most innovative hardcore wrestler. He'll hit you over the head with just about anything he'll get his hands on. And every once in a while, he'll do something that makes you say 'damn.' But when it comes to wowing the crowd, I'm the master. How many people can say they've seen a man get carved by a shard of glass on television. Ask Jeff Purse, Nightrider, or Xavier Laroux. They'll tell you what happened to Evan Harrison when he stood opposite of me in that ring. I bet he still bears my name in his skin.
Yet, after everything Nightrider told you, you still doubt what I can do. Would Nathan blame me if we lost? You make it seem like Nathan seeks an excuse for everytime he loses. No, Nathan will not blame me because we will not lose. I don't speak about a check in the win column. Victory for me is when I deal pain and make you scream. That is when I'm a winner. Nathan has no say in it because during these times, he has no control.
So study all the tapes you desire. Hell, I'll even tell you stuff you don't even know. Nathan enjoys brawling, and loves his grappling techniques. He likes submissions because they deal damage although he barely uses them. And he'll take to the air if he so desires. But none of this matters because you only have a few minutes anyway before I step in for him. And then our styles switch. We're one body, but two people. And let me just say you'll never know what I have planned. I'm unpredictable until everyone sees more of me. Really, you only have one match to study about me. And even that won't help you.
So maybe you think I'll be coming to play and you might be right. I don't have to put any effort into my fight with you because you'll be easy. But I suggest you bring all the fight you can because you'll need it. Your size doesn't matter much if you're knocked on the ground and I put barbed wire in your mouth before I stomp it. This won't be a wrestling match when I come out. It'll be your fight for the survival of your career."
Another pause, and Nathan turns the cool water on. Hands go through the running water, followed by taking the hands up to his face. And then the voice resumes.
"Zombie McMorris. A fitting name for the man who's as ugly as one and has the same brain capacity of one. Do you eat brains too? I wouldn't doubt it; it might help you gain some knowledge. I mean the only thing you learned how to do was curse, and that isn't impressing anyone. Corey Black beat Nathan, but he didn't whip him. They fought to the final seconds, and Black edged himself out. Now, this was a fight between Nathan and Black; I was not involved. Therefore I cannot be blamed. It is like blaming you for Nathan losing the match. And I can here it now. 'I lost because that idiot Zombie said he wanted to take my head off and crap on my neck' I'll let the perverts decide which head you were taking off, and how exactly how you're going to take it off. But my hint to them is zombies use their mouths."
A chuckle from the real Nathan as he dries off his hands.
"But I do enjoy your monikers. I do see you as the King of No Class and the Lord of the Low Card. Nathan said he'll even petition to have that become your merchandise motto. I mean you're never going to leave the Low card so you might as well be the lord.
So when we step into that ring, I'll remember those two points you gave me. When I'm choking you with barbed wire, I'll whisper those two points in your ear. When I drag your face across the steel mesh, I'll start the crowd chant; they'll yell your two points so you can hear it for yourself. I want you to remember those two points as I snap them in half. They, along with everything that comes out of your mouth, are just words. That is all you have; you have no wrestling talent, no ability to say a full sentence without a curse word. You're not important to me, Zombie. You're no star in this business, and you never will be.
There will be no '69 World Tour after this Sunday. I doubt you'll even be able to get out of bed after Sunday. And then you'll come to realize that we live in 2012, you dumb fuck."
Nathan looks up at the camera, his cold eyes watching closely now. He knew what was coming next.
"And now onto the man who actually matters in this match. Jay Price, the man who brought this match to WCF. May I thank you? You sir, will be always known as the man who fought Vlad's first match. And you will also be known as the man who inspired this promo. You asked Nathan to tell the stories about me, but what better thing than for me to tell them myself? I mean there isn't much to tell. Nathan's parents died by my hand. Well, I killed his father and his mother was dying from grief. I just. . . sped up the process. Nathan's brother also perished from infection after I carved on his foot with a rusted knife. After that, Nathan was locked up in the institute for his life because of me. But do you think he hates me? He doesn't.
Do you think Nathan would be where he is if it weren't for me? If I hadn't killed his parents, he be living a casual life in Queens. Now people know him as the escaped mental patient who wrestles and has a second personality that enjoys hurting people. You can't write stuff like this unless it is true. And let me tell you it is true. I'm real, waiting inside Nathan for my time to shine. And that comes Sunday."
Nathan puts his feet on the ground, and he walks closer to the camera.
"I'm saying something now Price, and you better heed my word. By all means, hit Nathan in the face when the bell rings. I beg you to bloody him up early so I can come out and play. But I take you as a smarter person, so I might be wrong. If you are smart, drop to the mat, and let me pin you. Simple as that because it'll save you a lot of trouble and pain.
You expected wrong when you thought Nathan would start talking crap early. If he wanted to be a Zombie McMorris, he would've debuted here as a Zombie McMorris; it wasn't a very hard gimmick to come up with. And besides, Nathan's opinion doesn't matter this week; he won't be fighting in the match very long anyway. This week I'll be fighting for the first time in WCF history and this is the day the fans see something never seen before. Logan thinks he's a black man and Switches went crazier, but Nathan knows exactly what is inside of him. He knows I'm a weapon waiting to be exploited. And I will be used this week to win the match."
Nathan grabs the camera with both of his hands. One of his red fingers is on the lens, so some of his face is cut off. But by now, they already know his face doesn't matter; the words is what counts.
"I once said this in ACW the last time I was fighting. Even when I lose, I win. Nathan is the one who cares about wins and losses; I only care about hurting others. So you'll beat me because I will never accept defeat. The body you'll be throwing around the ring is not mine. I merely control it when blood runs. So you can't hurt me and I won't quit. What can you do?
You can lose. You will lose. And after that Vlad will be on the tip of everyone's tongue. Forever. Because after Sunday, win or lose, my performance will never be forgotten."
The scene fades out.
Visual feed follows, and viewers see Nathan von Liebert seated in the bathtub of some bathroom. He's wearing a dirty wifebeather along with jean shorts and converse shoes. His knees are drawn to his chest, face buried in them. But even so, when the words begin to speak, they are heard clearly.
"It is something like that defines the word 'superstar.' Someone who is always talked about even they're losing every week. When Nathan was winning, people asked when Nathan would stumble. Now he's losing, and people ask if he will ever get back on track. They did the same thing with Jay Price. They are stars. But no one talks about Zombie McMorris. Joel Hall is not the center of discussion on wrestling forums and chats. Even the most serious wrestling fans have to be reminded who Don DeBeers is. They aren't stars in this business like he is. Not was, but is.
The question has been asked if this week would be the week that Nathan break this losing streak. Well the answer is. . ."
Nathan looks up, and the answer is given without Nathan moving his lips.
"Sure."
Wait, Nathan didn't move his lips. Why is he speaking in the third person? And is that a Russian accent hidden in some of the words.
"Win or lose, I will be breaking this losing streak for Nathan. It is times like this where I shine. You people know me as Vlad, and I must say it fits my personality. Vlad the Impaler, murderer of many. And he did it slowly, letting the life draw out of you at the pace he choose. Something I like to do. Dealing pain all in one go isn't fun. I like to make you hurt for hours instead of seconds. Because eventually you'll forget those moments of pain. But can you forget hours?
You people think Nathan is crazy when he tells you about me. It seems like he is boasting about the things I've done to people, but you people are wrong. Nathan is warning you when he tells you about me. I'm a killer, and killing you on television isn't something people wish to see. Oh, Nathan loves to deal out pain. But he wants to hurt you enough to get what he wants. But me? I have no desires to be sated. I share this body with Nathan. He keeps it fed, watered, taken care of. I get to relax, and during those brief times I pop out, I get to have fun.
I'm no figment of someone's imgination. I'm a person inside of a person. I'm a person who was born to fight in the Clockwork House. I don't need to call myself Zombie and curse in every sentence to be intimidating. I don't have to cram all of my thoughts about everyone in one burst of words like Donny boy. I don't have two personalities like Joel Hall. And I'm not Jay Price. So I'll take my time. It isn't like I'm going anywhere. . ."
A soft, menancing chuckle comes from Vlad. Nathan stands, and steps out of the tub. He walks up to the mirror, placing his hands on the sink. The camera gets to his left shoulder, looking at Nathan's reflection.
"Does he look like a crack addict?"
Black hair in wild directions. Pale Skin. Scary attire. Could you picture NvL doing crack?
"You know don't answer that. Really any answer you people could come up with it doesn't bother me. Frankly, I don't care. And I don't care about Joel Hall either. His respect is worthless in my eyes. Sure he can't win in the One Invitational, but Nathan can. Joel couldn't beat D-Day, but Nathan could. It is like saying you don't respect someone who pinned you three times in one match to beat you. But who cares? I don't.
Joel, you're an unimportant twit. You call Nathan a pysho to the world, and I won't deny it. Many people see a crazy man in Nathan. But he's still better in the ring than you are. He's still fought in better matches than you have. Won bigger matches than you. Won in an Invitational that you lost it. You try to bury Nathan as a mental patient but really you just make yourself worse. Because now it seems that a mental patient is a bigger star than you are."
This time Nathan laughs along with Vlad. Their laughs intertwine, adding a creepy twist to it. It appears on camera that two different laughs are coming from the same person.
"No crack or cocaine was involved when Nathan lost to Corey. And Nathan didn't lose any blood, else I would've appeared and crushed the man. No Nathan lost because he gets distracted. He is truly talented in the ring, and he knows it. So after winning seven matches in a row, his thoughts got clouded and he stumbled. Stumbled four times to be exact. But this hasn't diminished his career much. He was a star before fighting against Corey. I mean, everyone loses eventually. Black lost more in his career here than he's won. So no, Nathan still has a career to be proud of. A career that is steadily getting more padded with accomplishments. Can you say the same thing, Hall?
Just don't think Nathan will stumble in the madness that is forthcoming. He has lived with what people labeled as madness for twenty odd years. He has me inside of him, a dealer of pain and suffering. Could you imagine being five years old and wishing to stab your mother for fun? No, Nathan will be ready for Sunday. And then when my time comes, I'll be more than ready. I didn't need to train for this match; Nathan did all of that on his own. I merely waited, devised ideas and plans for when my time to shine comes. And you'll witness soon enough that I'm more than that Mexican you hired to play El Mideo.
Beat the living snot out of me; Nathan doesn't need his snot. But go down early before I beat the life out of you."
Vlad chuckles again. And unlike Nathan's cold laughs, Vlad's holds joy.
"Another ignorant curtain jerker is fighting in this match, and his name is Don. Really, the man thought calling Nathan the fastest falling star in WCF. But Nathan understands and he isn't hurt by the insult. Nathan knows Don insults him because Don knows he'll never be a star. Nathan had to rise up the ladder to fall down it. Don is still at the bottom rung.
And this isn't the only thing Nathan and I agree on after listening to you talk. We both agreed that this match won't be the match that revieves his career because it hasn't died. Even when losing, Nathan fought men like Logan, Black, and Fly. You, Don, have not fought anyone of importance. You said yourself that this match is no DQ. Well I am the King of fights when there are no rules."
The voice pauses, and Nathan looks around. The Devil's Right Hand is biting his lips, and he doesn't stop even when the voice resumes talking.
"And we both agreed that I wouldn't be coming to save him this week. We agreed that Nathan didn't need help against the likes of you. He said he could win this match when weapons weren't involved, and he would win with them involved. It is the mere fact that blood will be spilt that I'm going to make an appearance. Nathan is a tough bitch, but he isn't the most innovative hardcore wrestler. He'll hit you over the head with just about anything he'll get his hands on. And every once in a while, he'll do something that makes you say 'damn.' But when it comes to wowing the crowd, I'm the master. How many people can say they've seen a man get carved by a shard of glass on television. Ask Jeff Purse, Nightrider, or Xavier Laroux. They'll tell you what happened to Evan Harrison when he stood opposite of me in that ring. I bet he still bears my name in his skin.
Yet, after everything Nightrider told you, you still doubt what I can do. Would Nathan blame me if we lost? You make it seem like Nathan seeks an excuse for everytime he loses. No, Nathan will not blame me because we will not lose. I don't speak about a check in the win column. Victory for me is when I deal pain and make you scream. That is when I'm a winner. Nathan has no say in it because during these times, he has no control.
So study all the tapes you desire. Hell, I'll even tell you stuff you don't even know. Nathan enjoys brawling, and loves his grappling techniques. He likes submissions because they deal damage although he barely uses them. And he'll take to the air if he so desires. But none of this matters because you only have a few minutes anyway before I step in for him. And then our styles switch. We're one body, but two people. And let me just say you'll never know what I have planned. I'm unpredictable until everyone sees more of me. Really, you only have one match to study about me. And even that won't help you.
So maybe you think I'll be coming to play and you might be right. I don't have to put any effort into my fight with you because you'll be easy. But I suggest you bring all the fight you can because you'll need it. Your size doesn't matter much if you're knocked on the ground and I put barbed wire in your mouth before I stomp it. This won't be a wrestling match when I come out. It'll be your fight for the survival of your career."
Another pause, and Nathan turns the cool water on. Hands go through the running water, followed by taking the hands up to his face. And then the voice resumes.
"Zombie McMorris. A fitting name for the man who's as ugly as one and has the same brain capacity of one. Do you eat brains too? I wouldn't doubt it; it might help you gain some knowledge. I mean the only thing you learned how to do was curse, and that isn't impressing anyone. Corey Black beat Nathan, but he didn't whip him. They fought to the final seconds, and Black edged himself out. Now, this was a fight between Nathan and Black; I was not involved. Therefore I cannot be blamed. It is like blaming you for Nathan losing the match. And I can here it now. 'I lost because that idiot Zombie said he wanted to take my head off and crap on my neck' I'll let the perverts decide which head you were taking off, and how exactly how you're going to take it off. But my hint to them is zombies use their mouths."
A chuckle from the real Nathan as he dries off his hands.
"But I do enjoy your monikers. I do see you as the King of No Class and the Lord of the Low Card. Nathan said he'll even petition to have that become your merchandise motto. I mean you're never going to leave the Low card so you might as well be the lord.
So when we step into that ring, I'll remember those two points you gave me. When I'm choking you with barbed wire, I'll whisper those two points in your ear. When I drag your face across the steel mesh, I'll start the crowd chant; they'll yell your two points so you can hear it for yourself. I want you to remember those two points as I snap them in half. They, along with everything that comes out of your mouth, are just words. That is all you have; you have no wrestling talent, no ability to say a full sentence without a curse word. You're not important to me, Zombie. You're no star in this business, and you never will be.
There will be no '69 World Tour after this Sunday. I doubt you'll even be able to get out of bed after Sunday. And then you'll come to realize that we live in 2012, you dumb fuck."
Nathan looks up at the camera, his cold eyes watching closely now. He knew what was coming next.
"And now onto the man who actually matters in this match. Jay Price, the man who brought this match to WCF. May I thank you? You sir, will be always known as the man who fought Vlad's first match. And you will also be known as the man who inspired this promo. You asked Nathan to tell the stories about me, but what better thing than for me to tell them myself? I mean there isn't much to tell. Nathan's parents died by my hand. Well, I killed his father and his mother was dying from grief. I just. . . sped up the process. Nathan's brother also perished from infection after I carved on his foot with a rusted knife. After that, Nathan was locked up in the institute for his life because of me. But do you think he hates me? He doesn't.
Do you think Nathan would be where he is if it weren't for me? If I hadn't killed his parents, he be living a casual life in Queens. Now people know him as the escaped mental patient who wrestles and has a second personality that enjoys hurting people. You can't write stuff like this unless it is true. And let me tell you it is true. I'm real, waiting inside Nathan for my time to shine. And that comes Sunday."
Nathan puts his feet on the ground, and he walks closer to the camera.
"I'm saying something now Price, and you better heed my word. By all means, hit Nathan in the face when the bell rings. I beg you to bloody him up early so I can come out and play. But I take you as a smarter person, so I might be wrong. If you are smart, drop to the mat, and let me pin you. Simple as that because it'll save you a lot of trouble and pain.
You expected wrong when you thought Nathan would start talking crap early. If he wanted to be a Zombie McMorris, he would've debuted here as a Zombie McMorris; it wasn't a very hard gimmick to come up with. And besides, Nathan's opinion doesn't matter this week; he won't be fighting in the match very long anyway. This week I'll be fighting for the first time in WCF history and this is the day the fans see something never seen before. Logan thinks he's a black man and Switches went crazier, but Nathan knows exactly what is inside of him. He knows I'm a weapon waiting to be exploited. And I will be used this week to win the match."
Nathan grabs the camera with both of his hands. One of his red fingers is on the lens, so some of his face is cut off. But by now, they already know his face doesn't matter; the words is what counts.
"I once said this in ACW the last time I was fighting. Even when I lose, I win. Nathan is the one who cares about wins and losses; I only care about hurting others. So you'll beat me because I will never accept defeat. The body you'll be throwing around the ring is not mine. I merely control it when blood runs. So you can't hurt me and I won't quit. What can you do?
You can lose. You will lose. And after that Vlad will be on the tip of everyone's tongue. Forever. Because after Sunday, win or lose, my performance will never be forgotten."
The scene fades out.
