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| The Erik Holland That Wouldn't Die; -=Haunted=- | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 28 2015, 06:11 PM (30 Views) | |
| Willie | Mar 28 2015, 06:11 PM Post #1 |
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-=Badd Breed=-
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Erik Holland is here, outside the AT&T Stadium. We know it because of the icy chill we feel deep in our bones, because of our pulses quickening, maybe we even hear the 'ch-ch-ch-ah-ah-ah'...or maybe we know he's here because there is a big, hairy, scarred up, painted up hulk of a man advancing towards us like those unstoppable movie monsters, the dog collar hooked nice and tight to his neck and the long, heavy chain dragging behind him. Of course, the FIW Fighting Spirit Championship is ever present, the gold gripped lovingly in Erik's sizable fist. Even though it's nice and sunny outside, there's nothing pleasant about this visual. There's somethin' about you two that's fascinating. With anybody else I'd be looking to march deep into the heart of Texas, into the AT&T Stadium where we stand right now, I'd look to destroy you, demolish you as quickly and as CONVINCINGLY as possible, retain my Fighting Spirit Championship an' call it a day. But today's not most days, is it? We see that even though Erik's dressed...Nicely?! A ragged and untucked button-up shirt, that's worn and patched up in a few places with baggy black cargo pants and his ever present Army boots, the dog collar almost seems like it fits with the outfit. Blood seems to be staining the Maniac's mouth, giving us the impression that maybe Scott Knight's attack caused some internal injuries. But then I listen to YOU, Mistress Lovecraft. I listen to you and I think you're right. I think there's a lot...A LOT...more here besides the fact that THIS is on the line. You think Scott Knight picking a fight with me is gonna' wake him up. Get him in the violent state of mind he thinks he needs to be in to be successful here. Gotta' say, I'm touched, really.. Erik chuckles a little bit, running a hand through that Koosh-ball hair of his, the free hand. He's holding onto the belt with the other hand so tightly it seems like you'd sever his arm if you took it away. If he didn't sever yours first. But Lovecraft, baby...the end-game for Scott tonight is not to get in the right mindset when he fights me. It's that he comes out of this dog collar match still in charge of alllll his faculties. That's what you've gotta' think long and think hard about, sugar.. A demented smile on the face of this Creeping Thing, he's most certainly NOT trying to pick up Mistress Lovecraft or anything. You gotta' think about whether this really WAS a good idea to poke Erik Holland in the eye with a sharp ssstick. Whether it really was a good idea after such a punishing and physical contest to have Scott jump me from behind and drive me into those heavy steel steps..Full disclosure, might not have looked like much in the grand scheme of things, but that shit hurts... It's pretty pedestrian for Knight or Holland, but sometimes the most basic things hurt the worst. They weigh close to four hundred pounds and they're solid steel, diamond grate across the top. Hittin' the steps at that speed, thrown by a guy as strong as Knight is...Shit makes ya' walk funny for a few hours and at the risk of supplying too much information, SOMETIMES you get to piss a little blood, too. IF you're lucky. So don't get it twisted, sweet-cheeks, I don't take Scott Knight lightly.... Now that we have the lovely visual of Erik Holland peeing blood, the shaky camera backs up from Erik a little bit and takes a diagonal angle, making Holland look all the more out-of-this-world. 'Cause I'm right with ya'. Scott Knight has been in some of the most violent matches the wrestling industry's ever seen. He knows what it's like to bleed. What it's like to enforce will on somebody else. Since he was...present elsewhere with me, he and you both, I think, UNDERSTAND...fully...what I am capable of. That I had what many fans consider to be one of the most brutal, violent and intense rivalries in the entire company with...well, if I have to tell you who you ain't payin' attention... Another smile, another knowing chuckle as Erik touches a scar on his forehead. I'll give you a hint. He's blue, does science and he goes fast. And it ain't Dankey Kang. But that was the past. The doors are shuttered, the lights are off, and we are here NOW. And in a few hours, Scott, you and I are gonna walk to that ring, we're gonna' be hooked to the neck by this thing right here, and we're gonna go...to war. Will Scott Knight be awakened by what I do to him at Rise of a Legend? Will he come out of this match re-focused, ready to visit violence upon foolish heads on his way to ultimate glory, exactly like you were counting on? Erik draws himself up like he's about to say something dramatic, deep and memorable.. ... And then slumps his shoulders, the black-painted eyes a-rolling. Pfft. I don't know and I don't fuckin' care.. Of course not. Erik now holds the FSC up to the camera. What is central in my mind is retaining the Fighting Spirit Championship. Whether Scott comes out re-focused or not, I can guarantee you one thing. It's gonna' hurt. All of it. Every blessed, bloody, glorious second of it's going to hurt. If you're looking forward to it, Scott, then it's just like the song says... You can't always get what you want? Shake It Off? Work with us here, Erik!! Get ready for the time of your life...Hahahahahaha.... Well, I mean...it's SORT of like the song. But since when does Erik try his best to make sense? Erik, as he continues to laugh, turns away from us and walks back into the arena, slowly, allowing the chain to jangle-jangle-jangle as it drags behind him. That unpleasant, fearsome laugh is the last thing we hear, even after the scene goes to black. |
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