Post by Corey Black on Apr 18, 2009 20:39:31 GMT -5
Our scene opens to Corey Black sitting in the VIP room of the club he was in earlier today. The walls are black with brightly painted designs, and lit by a blacklight lamp. There are a few big chairs and a couch, yet Corey sits on a lone steel chair in front of a TV. Mikami's promo is on the television there. Corey is taping his fists up, and wearing no shirt, his tattoos displayed to the world. He is still wearing the camo cargo shorts, but no shoes or socks.
Corey Black: So you have me figured out, Mikami? You've been here less than a month and you've figured out the most complex person you'll ever come in contact with? I don't think so, sir.
This match will be way more relevant than you think. It'll be your first taste of defeat here in WCF. Yeah, I'm THAT confident. Your abundance of over analysis is more proof than any. Look ahead, try to figure out what will happen, all the while the present will do nothing but bite you square in the face. That present is myself and Logan. A WCF dream team.
It's cool, though. I'm just a casual observer. I see what is in front of me, and only that. Jumping from thought to thought. A theory which is mostly true, I'll give you the satisfaction. The only flaw is that my casual observing is more apt than your feeble mind could ever imagine. I need to make one thing clear. WCF is nothing like you've ever been in. One second things are bright and shiny, then BOOM, you're at the bottom of the barrel in six man tags. The method to the madness is winning. You win, you move up. Looking ahead only to see who is next in line, not what will happen. Plans change in an instant. Nothing is set in stone. Nothing.
Corey heads over to a table that is set up against the wall. He places the tape down, having finishedtaping his hands. Corey slips black padded fingerless gloves over top of the tape and adjusts them to his liking. He walks over to a couch as he continues his promo.
Corey Black: Mikami, you ruined whatever side we could have been on when you sarcastically mentioned, in passing I might add, that I failed to accomplish my goal. I did, I failed. But the circumstances were much more than any one man could handle. A simple fact. Not childish, hell, I'm not even making an excuse. It's just fact. I've dealt with it, and now I shall move on. Move on to Monday. And then I shall shift focus and take WCF back.
It's all gravy, right? Because I'm a casual observer. And a casual observer has no idea why a random Japanese clown is sticking his nose in business that he should stay out of. The only dark side in this company is the ACTUAL Dark Side. Everyone else plays by the rules. Even Torture. He's not pulling any strings. He goes full force and does what he wants in the boundaries of a man. Gravedigger plays puppet master and presents himself with outlandish advantages.
Corey takes a seat on the couch. He rests his forearms on his knees and hangs his head, breathing deep, not even looking at the camera now.
Corey Black: You had another point, though. I am the best tool for this task. And any other task. And I'll do more than prove you wrong, I'll put you down for a three count. Not only Monday, but each and every time we're placed in that ring. Even a causal observer can see that.
I must ask a question, however. Why call me that? Of all the people I know, you're in the bottom ten percentile that I'd allow to get away with that one. That part of me is gone, and YOU had to bring it up. A fucking nobody that happened to pull off an upset and capture gold, calling ME 'Creeping Death.' So, you know about WCF's past. You know exactly how I was. Are you ... are you really testing my patience? I mean, if you are, you can just come out and say it without being cryptic or anything, and I'd be just as happy. There is no need to be all mysterious anymore. Everybody was all excited that maybe, just maybe, all this "MM" business would lead to a big comeback, only to have it be ... you. But I digress, call me 'Creeping Death' one more time and see how that works out for you. Your sense of superiority will be instantly taken from you. I guarantee that.
Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. It opens, and there's a man in a suit motioning for Corey to follow. Corey lifts his head and smiles as he stands and leaves the VIP room. The camera shifts to a window overlooking the club. There is now an octagonal cage set up in the middle of the dance floor. The scene fades out looking over the club.
Corey Black: So you have me figured out, Mikami? You've been here less than a month and you've figured out the most complex person you'll ever come in contact with? I don't think so, sir.
This match will be way more relevant than you think. It'll be your first taste of defeat here in WCF. Yeah, I'm THAT confident. Your abundance of over analysis is more proof than any. Look ahead, try to figure out what will happen, all the while the present will do nothing but bite you square in the face. That present is myself and Logan. A WCF dream team.
It's cool, though. I'm just a casual observer. I see what is in front of me, and only that. Jumping from thought to thought. A theory which is mostly true, I'll give you the satisfaction. The only flaw is that my casual observing is more apt than your feeble mind could ever imagine. I need to make one thing clear. WCF is nothing like you've ever been in. One second things are bright and shiny, then BOOM, you're at the bottom of the barrel in six man tags. The method to the madness is winning. You win, you move up. Looking ahead only to see who is next in line, not what will happen. Plans change in an instant. Nothing is set in stone. Nothing.
Corey heads over to a table that is set up against the wall. He places the tape down, having finishedtaping his hands. Corey slips black padded fingerless gloves over top of the tape and adjusts them to his liking. He walks over to a couch as he continues his promo.
Corey Black: Mikami, you ruined whatever side we could have been on when you sarcastically mentioned, in passing I might add, that I failed to accomplish my goal. I did, I failed. But the circumstances were much more than any one man could handle. A simple fact. Not childish, hell, I'm not even making an excuse. It's just fact. I've dealt with it, and now I shall move on. Move on to Monday. And then I shall shift focus and take WCF back.
It's all gravy, right? Because I'm a casual observer. And a casual observer has no idea why a random Japanese clown is sticking his nose in business that he should stay out of. The only dark side in this company is the ACTUAL Dark Side. Everyone else plays by the rules. Even Torture. He's not pulling any strings. He goes full force and does what he wants in the boundaries of a man. Gravedigger plays puppet master and presents himself with outlandish advantages.
Corey takes a seat on the couch. He rests his forearms on his knees and hangs his head, breathing deep, not even looking at the camera now.
Corey Black: You had another point, though. I am the best tool for this task. And any other task. And I'll do more than prove you wrong, I'll put you down for a three count. Not only Monday, but each and every time we're placed in that ring. Even a causal observer can see that.
I must ask a question, however. Why call me that? Of all the people I know, you're in the bottom ten percentile that I'd allow to get away with that one. That part of me is gone, and YOU had to bring it up. A fucking nobody that happened to pull off an upset and capture gold, calling ME 'Creeping Death.' So, you know about WCF's past. You know exactly how I was. Are you ... are you really testing my patience? I mean, if you are, you can just come out and say it without being cryptic or anything, and I'd be just as happy. There is no need to be all mysterious anymore. Everybody was all excited that maybe, just maybe, all this "MM" business would lead to a big comeback, only to have it be ... you. But I digress, call me 'Creeping Death' one more time and see how that works out for you. Your sense of superiority will be instantly taken from you. I guarantee that.
Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. It opens, and there's a man in a suit motioning for Corey to follow. Corey lifts his head and smiles as he stands and leaves the VIP room. The camera shifts to a window overlooking the club. There is now an octagonal cage set up in the middle of the dance floor. The scene fades out looking over the club.
