Post by "Invincible" Damian Kaine on Jul 9, 2016 9:51:48 GMT -5
Video montage plays:
Camcorder dated 05.06.03
A smiling little blonde boy jumps on a trampoline, being chased by a young man, happy as can be. The young man proceeds to lie down on the trampoline and allow the boy, his son, to pin him. The boy smiles as he stands, lifting a cardboard championship belt with no writing on it, while the man announces, in his best Michael Buffer impersonation:
“The new world heavyweight champion.. Damian Kaine!”
Change of Clip: Camcorder dated 10.21.10
An older Kaine sits, in a hospital room, next to a man, bandaged up from head to toe. Damien ie filming the miraculous recovery of his father, Alec. The monitor emits its high pitched beeps.
“Damian,” the man says to his son, “Damian, I want you to promise me something. Never give up your dream, okay, boy? And don’t let anybody, or anything stand in your way. Remember what I always taught you: To give respect, you to get it. Never forget that, o-”
The man’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his heart rate spikes, then rapidly declines. Damian immediately drops the camera, showing nothing but the wall of the room, but Damian’s protests and denial are more than audible.
“DAD! Dammit, Dad, don’t do this!! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS! ”
The doctors rushed Damian out of the room…
The screen fades into present day, in the Nationwide Arena in Columbus, Ohio.
Damian Kaine stands backstage, a camera man beading on him, with a microphone in his hand.
“I lost my dad, six years ago. He was my best friend. My role model. The one guy who ever gave a damn about who i wanted to be. He was a firefighter in Savannah, Georgia, and he was critically wounded saving a little girl from a fire that she started herself. We were trying to film our last minutes with him. We knew he was gone. A little girl cost me everything I hold dear. Well, almost everything, that is. You see, after my dad died, I had nobody. So I started training full time. I stayed in Georgia for about a year. I enrolled in gymnastics, and I got pretty good. I moved up to South Carolina to enroll myself in Alpha, the southern elite wrestling school. Now I enter the next stage of my soon to be illustrious career, and much like Spider-Man, I’m living by my role model’s dying words: I’m not going to let people stand in my way of the gold. Ladies and Gentlemen of Columbus, Ohio, you’re a bunch of seriously lucky bastards. Why, you may ask? Could it be because there’s a Television title match tonight?”
He pauses, faux-contemplating the possibility.
“Tempting, but nah. Maybe the World Title match night, Stuart Slane vs. Oblivion, and it isn’t a PPV? Hah! Not even close. So, what can it be?”
Damian pulls the camera into a close up.
“You’re all blessed to witness the WCF debut of the new face of this company, Damian Kaine.”
He then pushes the camera back, and the crowd sees the camera visibly shake.
“It’s taken me a lot of running around to get here. A lot of pointless matches. A lot of burials, six feet under the ground. I didn’t spend four years down in the South Carolina’s ALPHA school for nothing. So, imagine my disappointment when finding that an A-Lister like the Silver Bullet, himself, was debuting in a tag match. And, not even a two on two, but a damn 8 man tag! I tried to have a few words with Seth Lerch but he was nowhere to be found. Well, I thought, ‘Eh, I guess it’s not too bad.’ And then I saw who was in the match with me. No, no no no, Seth you’re losing it! Who the hell are these people?! Chris Kane? He says he chooses not to talk. Personally, I think it’s because his brain can’t function enough to form coherent thoughts. No relation, might I add. Daniel Jones, Derek Cenate… Or is it Derek Jones and Daniel Cenate? I’ll form an opinion on them after the match.”
He pauses for a minute.
“Now let’s look across the ring. Adrian Agustus Archer! He used to be one of my favourites! I had his action figure and everything! But there’s an issue. I was nine years old when he left. Son, you’re washed up. Why come back? People can say what they want about Seth Lerch. But he never abandoned what little fanbase he had. The wrestling game has changed, A. I’m not sure you can even climb the ladder to success without your arthritis acting up, Old Man. Yeah, you were an Annihilator in your hayday, but now your wife doesn’t even want you. Now, who’s next?”
Damian looks down at a paper, then his jaw drops.
He bursts into laughter.
“Am I reading this right? There is a wrestler literally named Bok Choy? I don’t even know of an original way to make fun of that. All I know is you may as well be chinese food because you’re going to get your ass cooked tonight, boy.”
Damian waits for the resounding “boos” due to the racist comment. He smirks.
“Zachary Astro. Astro Boy! Ah, god, I used to love that cartoon. But anyway. I’ve never even heard of this guy! As yankee as you can get, though. It’s surely a shame you didn’t live in Chicago, Zachy boy. Getting shot in the streets would have been a less painful way to go out than meeting me in the ring. Then you have Chris Justice. “Meteoric Rise.” A man who puts his son in harm's way? Think about that, folks. Somebody better call CPS on this guy. People with that little common sense should not be able to reproduce. Abstract, buddy. It’s going to be okay. The bad bad man is going to go away. Yes, yes. You think my words hurt? Adrian, Rise, Bok, and Zack: Y’all better hope you ain’t part werewolf, boys. Because y’all about to get shot with a Silver Bullet.”
Damien gives a smile then drops the mic, vanishing into the darkness backstage.
Camcorder dated 05.06.03
A smiling little blonde boy jumps on a trampoline, being chased by a young man, happy as can be. The young man proceeds to lie down on the trampoline and allow the boy, his son, to pin him. The boy smiles as he stands, lifting a cardboard championship belt with no writing on it, while the man announces, in his best Michael Buffer impersonation:
“The new world heavyweight champion.. Damian Kaine!”
Change of Clip: Camcorder dated 10.21.10
An older Kaine sits, in a hospital room, next to a man, bandaged up from head to toe. Damien ie filming the miraculous recovery of his father, Alec. The monitor emits its high pitched beeps.
“Damian,” the man says to his son, “Damian, I want you to promise me something. Never give up your dream, okay, boy? And don’t let anybody, or anything stand in your way. Remember what I always taught you: To give respect, you to get it. Never forget that, o-”
The man’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his heart rate spikes, then rapidly declines. Damian immediately drops the camera, showing nothing but the wall of the room, but Damian’s protests and denial are more than audible.
“DAD! Dammit, Dad, don’t do this!! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS! ”
The doctors rushed Damian out of the room…
The screen fades into present day, in the Nationwide Arena in Columbus, Ohio.
Damian Kaine stands backstage, a camera man beading on him, with a microphone in his hand.
“I lost my dad, six years ago. He was my best friend. My role model. The one guy who ever gave a damn about who i wanted to be. He was a firefighter in Savannah, Georgia, and he was critically wounded saving a little girl from a fire that she started herself. We were trying to film our last minutes with him. We knew he was gone. A little girl cost me everything I hold dear. Well, almost everything, that is. You see, after my dad died, I had nobody. So I started training full time. I stayed in Georgia for about a year. I enrolled in gymnastics, and I got pretty good. I moved up to South Carolina to enroll myself in Alpha, the southern elite wrestling school. Now I enter the next stage of my soon to be illustrious career, and much like Spider-Man, I’m living by my role model’s dying words: I’m not going to let people stand in my way of the gold. Ladies and Gentlemen of Columbus, Ohio, you’re a bunch of seriously lucky bastards. Why, you may ask? Could it be because there’s a Television title match tonight?”
He pauses, faux-contemplating the possibility.
“Tempting, but nah. Maybe the World Title match night, Stuart Slane vs. Oblivion, and it isn’t a PPV? Hah! Not even close. So, what can it be?”
Damian pulls the camera into a close up.
“You’re all blessed to witness the WCF debut of the new face of this company, Damian Kaine.”
He then pushes the camera back, and the crowd sees the camera visibly shake.
“It’s taken me a lot of running around to get here. A lot of pointless matches. A lot of burials, six feet under the ground. I didn’t spend four years down in the South Carolina’s ALPHA school for nothing. So, imagine my disappointment when finding that an A-Lister like the Silver Bullet, himself, was debuting in a tag match. And, not even a two on two, but a damn 8 man tag! I tried to have a few words with Seth Lerch but he was nowhere to be found. Well, I thought, ‘Eh, I guess it’s not too bad.’ And then I saw who was in the match with me. No, no no no, Seth you’re losing it! Who the hell are these people?! Chris Kane? He says he chooses not to talk. Personally, I think it’s because his brain can’t function enough to form coherent thoughts. No relation, might I add. Daniel Jones, Derek Cenate… Or is it Derek Jones and Daniel Cenate? I’ll form an opinion on them after the match.”
He pauses for a minute.
“Now let’s look across the ring. Adrian Agustus Archer! He used to be one of my favourites! I had his action figure and everything! But there’s an issue. I was nine years old when he left. Son, you’re washed up. Why come back? People can say what they want about Seth Lerch. But he never abandoned what little fanbase he had. The wrestling game has changed, A. I’m not sure you can even climb the ladder to success without your arthritis acting up, Old Man. Yeah, you were an Annihilator in your hayday, but now your wife doesn’t even want you. Now, who’s next?”
Damian looks down at a paper, then his jaw drops.
He bursts into laughter.
“Am I reading this right? There is a wrestler literally named Bok Choy? I don’t even know of an original way to make fun of that. All I know is you may as well be chinese food because you’re going to get your ass cooked tonight, boy.”
Damian waits for the resounding “boos” due to the racist comment. He smirks.
“Zachary Astro. Astro Boy! Ah, god, I used to love that cartoon. But anyway. I’ve never even heard of this guy! As yankee as you can get, though. It’s surely a shame you didn’t live in Chicago, Zachy boy. Getting shot in the streets would have been a less painful way to go out than meeting me in the ring. Then you have Chris Justice. “Meteoric Rise.” A man who puts his son in harm's way? Think about that, folks. Somebody better call CPS on this guy. People with that little common sense should not be able to reproduce. Abstract, buddy. It’s going to be okay. The bad bad man is going to go away. Yes, yes. You think my words hurt? Adrian, Rise, Bok, and Zack: Y’all better hope you ain’t part werewolf, boys. Because y’all about to get shot with a Silver Bullet.”
Damien gives a smile then drops the mic, vanishing into the darkness backstage.
