Post by "Invincible" Damian Kaine on Jul 31, 2016 17:04:56 GMT -5
*Screen fades into a room filled with a dim red light. In the center, you see the small figure of Damian Kaine, holding a small book in his hand.*
“‘And Moses said, Thus saith the Lord, About midnight will I go out into the midst of Egypt:
And all the firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sitteth upon his throne, even unto the firstborn of the maidservant that is behind the mill; and all the firstborn of beasts. And there shall be a great cry throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there was none like it, nor shall be like it any more.’ Exodus, chapter Eleven, verses four through six.”
*Damian closes the book roughly, and sets it down. He looks into the camera with a stern, somewhat maniacal grin.*
“God sent the Angel of Death that night. The Destroying Angel took the firstborns of the entire non-Israelite population of Egypt. But even the Angel of Death made exceptions. Even the Angel was a respectable deity. He obeyed the Lord’s command. He saw the lamb’s blood on the doorways of the Israelites that night. And he left them alone.”
He purses his lips, contemplating his next words.
“Me? I don’t have Lamb’s blood. I don’t have an ounce of Jewish blood flowing in my body. But something I do have is intelligence. I have enough brains to know that these four Brood rejects know what they’re doing. Which is why I’m not coming alone at The Ultimate Showdown. Barry, I know damn well that when I step into the ring with you this Sunday, I’m facing the rest of the Angels of Death too. So I’m coming prepared. At least for Burn and Rider. I don’t expect Oblivion to waste his time doing his crony’s dirty work.”
“Last Slam, I got screwed. Phillie Screwjob at his finest.”
Kaine’s mind wanders, and it’s visible on his face..
*Damian’s rambling* “Huh.. would it be Rider screwed Kaine, or Henker screwed Kaine.. Wait..”
Kaine shakes his head back into focus.
“Now you see, I’m not a religious guy. Personally, this is all just bullshit to me. As fake as Donald Trump’s hair. If you guys feel like running around, claiming you’re the” *air quotes* “Angels of Death, go right on ahead. But do your research. I’m pretty sure if there really were Angels of Death in our history, they wouldn’t have been a Nazi. Or a schizophrenic, for that matter. But not only is your little diocese of dancing demons historically inaccurate, you’ve got a lot wrong about me.”
Kaine smiles, showing pearly white teeth.
“I’m not somebody to be taken lightly, dude. I’ve joked, and poked fun at you because you aren’t a threat. And you still aren’t. But you wanna know the difference between now and Slam?”
Kaine stares deep into the camera.
“Now, I’m pissed.”
Kaine now snarls at the camera.
“Y’see, I was expecting a good, clean match. And for the most part, you gave it to me. I won’t deny, Barry. You’re a good athlete. But you keep talking shit about how you ‘had’ me at Slam, but you didn’t. You took a cheap shot. While my back was turned. That’s not what having me looks like. That just shows what a coward does when he’s confronted with somebody better. Baron, I don’t cut corners. I don’t cheat. I don’t have to. I have pure, raw talent, something you lack. And yet, you say you’re gonna end up in the title picture. Let me tell you: Slane has you beat. Chambers, And Bishop have you beat. You’ve tried to beat ZMac, look where you are now. And I doubt the AoD will ever have the tag belts around their waists again, so you couldn’t even get a belt due to the freebird rule. It’s a shame, too. I know I could beat you, so If you somehow managed to snatch a title, I would be soon to follow, I know. But you couldn’t. I don’t have my eyes set for gold, yet. Soon, but not yet. I’m not looking past you, because I know that wouldn’t end well. After this weekend, maybe.”
“More about the match. I’m not going to be your stepping stone, bud. I’m not going to just lay down for you. You’re going through hell and back. And it’ll only get worse if your newfound friends come along. I’m glad that our match has no time limit. I can beat you around and make sure I finish you before i pin you. I’ll do what you did to so many innocent jews: I’ll send you to the showers, crying. I- heh.”
Damian stops and chuckles for a minute.
“The Angel of Death that toured Egypt that night passed over the Jews. Centuries later, an “Angel of Death” is a nazi, born and raised. Oh how things have changed…”
He laughs more.
“I think it's time you get what you have coming to you. Because I'm hell bent on vengeance. So bring Burn. Rider. Oblivion. Hell, bring your little switchblade. It won't matter. Be glad you aren't a werewolf. Because you'll have a silver bullet, headed straight for your head.”
The light flickers revealing a man with a bird like face, before flickering to darkness.
“‘And Moses said, Thus saith the Lord, About midnight will I go out into the midst of Egypt:
And all the firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sitteth upon his throne, even unto the firstborn of the maidservant that is behind the mill; and all the firstborn of beasts. And there shall be a great cry throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there was none like it, nor shall be like it any more.’ Exodus, chapter Eleven, verses four through six.”
*Damian closes the book roughly, and sets it down. He looks into the camera with a stern, somewhat maniacal grin.*
“God sent the Angel of Death that night. The Destroying Angel took the firstborns of the entire non-Israelite population of Egypt. But even the Angel of Death made exceptions. Even the Angel was a respectable deity. He obeyed the Lord’s command. He saw the lamb’s blood on the doorways of the Israelites that night. And he left them alone.”
He purses his lips, contemplating his next words.
“Me? I don’t have Lamb’s blood. I don’t have an ounce of Jewish blood flowing in my body. But something I do have is intelligence. I have enough brains to know that these four Brood rejects know what they’re doing. Which is why I’m not coming alone at The Ultimate Showdown. Barry, I know damn well that when I step into the ring with you this Sunday, I’m facing the rest of the Angels of Death too. So I’m coming prepared. At least for Burn and Rider. I don’t expect Oblivion to waste his time doing his crony’s dirty work.”
“Last Slam, I got screwed. Phillie Screwjob at his finest.”
Kaine’s mind wanders, and it’s visible on his face..
*Damian’s rambling* “Huh.. would it be Rider screwed Kaine, or Henker screwed Kaine.. Wait..”
Kaine shakes his head back into focus.
“Now you see, I’m not a religious guy. Personally, this is all just bullshit to me. As fake as Donald Trump’s hair. If you guys feel like running around, claiming you’re the” *air quotes* “Angels of Death, go right on ahead. But do your research. I’m pretty sure if there really were Angels of Death in our history, they wouldn’t have been a Nazi. Or a schizophrenic, for that matter. But not only is your little diocese of dancing demons historically inaccurate, you’ve got a lot wrong about me.”
Kaine smiles, showing pearly white teeth.
“I’m not somebody to be taken lightly, dude. I’ve joked, and poked fun at you because you aren’t a threat. And you still aren’t. But you wanna know the difference between now and Slam?”
Kaine stares deep into the camera.
“Now, I’m pissed.”
Kaine now snarls at the camera.
“Y’see, I was expecting a good, clean match. And for the most part, you gave it to me. I won’t deny, Barry. You’re a good athlete. But you keep talking shit about how you ‘had’ me at Slam, but you didn’t. You took a cheap shot. While my back was turned. That’s not what having me looks like. That just shows what a coward does when he’s confronted with somebody better. Baron, I don’t cut corners. I don’t cheat. I don’t have to. I have pure, raw talent, something you lack. And yet, you say you’re gonna end up in the title picture. Let me tell you: Slane has you beat. Chambers, And Bishop have you beat. You’ve tried to beat ZMac, look where you are now. And I doubt the AoD will ever have the tag belts around their waists again, so you couldn’t even get a belt due to the freebird rule. It’s a shame, too. I know I could beat you, so If you somehow managed to snatch a title, I would be soon to follow, I know. But you couldn’t. I don’t have my eyes set for gold, yet. Soon, but not yet. I’m not looking past you, because I know that wouldn’t end well. After this weekend, maybe.”
“More about the match. I’m not going to be your stepping stone, bud. I’m not going to just lay down for you. You’re going through hell and back. And it’ll only get worse if your newfound friends come along. I’m glad that our match has no time limit. I can beat you around and make sure I finish you before i pin you. I’ll do what you did to so many innocent jews: I’ll send you to the showers, crying. I- heh.”
Damian stops and chuckles for a minute.
“The Angel of Death that toured Egypt that night passed over the Jews. Centuries later, an “Angel of Death” is a nazi, born and raised. Oh how things have changed…”
He laughs more.
“I think it's time you get what you have coming to you. Because I'm hell bent on vengeance. So bring Burn. Rider. Oblivion. Hell, bring your little switchblade. It won't matter. Be glad you aren't a werewolf. Because you'll have a silver bullet, headed straight for your head.”
The light flickers revealing a man with a bird like face, before flickering to darkness.
