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| Locked In A Place Where No One Goes; Rurik Krychek - Promo 279 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 28 2015, 11:05 PM (27 Views) | |
| Clockman89 | Mar 28 2015, 11:05 PM Post #1 |
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Spiral Out, Keep Going
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The scene opens up, and again I'm going minimalist. We're in the arena. The Panopticon has been mostly assembled, a fragment of the FIW crew is going about making sure everything is alright, but our main story is sitting in a steel chair in the middle of the ring. Rurik Krychek sits there decked out in that fancy suit Bisenshi Sakura made for him, and the Grand Prix Championship folded up and neatly resting in his lap. Krychek: The clocks are ticking down, everyone. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. A little over forty-eight hours separates us from what promises to be the most brutal match of the year, and the most brutal match of the year candidate in FIW history. And despite two Dual Crown Championship reigns, three Undisputed International Championship reigns, four Fighting Spirit Championship reigns, eight World Tag Team Championship reigns amongst the six of us, despite all of that... Not one of us is looking forward to stepping into this structure on Monday. The Grand Prix Champion looks up and around at the structure he just referred to, rocking back and forth slightly in his seat. Krychek: In all my years in this industry I have met challenge after challenge head-on. Oh, maybe some of my tactics might be called by the lesser minds of this world as cowardly, unfair, unjust, blah, bla-blah blah, blah. As some might find, like Maxime Rowley, fairness doesn't get you anywhere. This business is about survival and survival is something I do well. All this... He gestures to the Grand Prix Championship in his lap, then to the Panopticon around him, and then waves his hand to indicate things beyond the Panopticon like the Dual Crown Championship. Krychek: ...all this is about survival until I can finally walk out of this begotten industry with my head held high. I work, and I bleed, and I fight to survive another day. That's all that matters. And all these challenges we get thrown into some barbaric stipulations. I've been in hardcore matches, battle royals, one tournaments, ladder matches... But there's one stipulation that has favored me above all the others... And in all those stipulations there has been one, above all else, that I have never lost in. A steel cage match. This thing here is quite clearly some bastard off-spring of it, but a cage is a cage is a cage. We're all stepping into it, we're all getting locked in until one man is left standing above five other broken, beaten, bloodied men. We're getting, as the old Led Zepplin song goes, "locked in a place where no one goes." That's my tag line for this sort of match, a phrase I use nearly every time I'm staring down the barrel of four sides of chain-link designed to keep me inside with my opponents. Because nobody wants to step into a steel cage... Nevermind a henious structure like the Panopticon. The rocking becomes a little more enthusiastic. He begins the next batch of words by pointing to his temple, and by extension his brain. Krychek: And in case any of you aren't aware already, allow me to make you aware. A Panopticon is a prison. That's why at Deadlock two thousand-eleven the theme of the banners, and posters, and ring apron, and the ilk seen everywhere was Clay Krueger behind bars. Because he, and those five other men, were being locked in a prison with each other. But unlike the actual prison concept there is no question all eyes are on us and unlike an actual prison the riots within are encouraged. The entire world watched as six men ripped each other limb from bloody limb until one man, one life-long devil amongst fallen, broken angels stood above them all. Nobody wants to step into that. Nobody wakes up one morning and goes, "I want to risk my limbs, my health, my life to fight inside this steel cage." Nobody goes to bed dreaming, "And I hope they put five other people in there with me." The Panopticon is not a thing of wishes and dreams. It's a nightmare. It's a living, breathing nightmare burrowing its way into our heads as we inch, second by second, closer to marching down that aisle and into the belly of the beast. Just look what it's doing to Mungrel. Oh, he can sit there and he can tell you it's because he wants so badly to be the first ever three time Dual Crown Champion. And it's not that it isn't weighing on his mind, it's that the Panopticon is not unlike It or Freddy Krueger, preying up on the children with dreams. Turning pleasant thoughts and desires into a nightmarish landscape. Mungrel may be looking for nothing more than to become the three time Dual Crown Champion, but the Panopticon is has opened its rank, disgusting mouth, bearing it's jagged, decaying teeth and waiting to swallowhim, and all of us whole, so that it may spit out the carcass of whatever is left. What about Max Rowley, hmm? Oh, the thoughts of not being respected are of course something he naturally thinks about and naturally has it eating away at him, but when was the last time you recall Max Rowley stripped down without his variety show style, and his announcer, and so on? When was the last time Rowley aired at three in the morning? Might it just be because he can't sleep? Because the Panopticon is stalking him, refusing to be arm dragged in his nightmares and refusing to wear his thousand-and-one t-shirts? That's just two that we've really heard from. The Rougarou talked a good game, but where is he? Where is Butch to talk for him? We only just heard from Nathaniel Alexander, but what about Billy Walker? Hmm? A lot rides on this match, a lot can be lost in this match, and failing to be victorious could put any one, or all of them, at the back of the line for the Dual Crown Championship. The rocking in the chair brings Krychek right out of his seat finally, and the Grand Prix Championship gets tossed over his shoulder. He looks around at the chains around him. Krychek: Six men are getting locked in a place where no one goes, and I'll be honest... The only thing I'm worried about his my health. I'm not worried about my chances... I think back to every steel cage match I've ever had in this company. Think back, FIW. Wiliam James for the Cruiserweight Championship. Against Christian Cruz and Snake, the third fall in a two out of three falls match for the World Tag Team Championship. And the House of M for the World Tag Team Championships last year... That last one, the Good Men got beaten from pillar to post and back again, but at the end, like every other steel cage match before, I got my hand raised at the end. Now I know, I'm a broken record...about my breaking records...and some people have a problem with it when I talk about what I've done in this company. When I start spouting off about my track records in matches; when I start listing things like the historic World Tag Team Championship reign, the record breaking Cruiserweight Championship reign and Fighting Spirit Championship reign, so on and so forth. The complaint is that I live in the past or that perhaps, in certain ignorant cases, they seem to just not exist in certain people's minds because they're not right now. I'm even accused of clinging a little too tightly to the Grand Prix Championship. As if walking around with your championship at all times is something abhorrent to what every other champion in history has done. So what about the present, What about the future? As if I have to remind you, the present is that I am the only two time Grand Prix Champion in this company. What that means is that I have won that one night tournament twice in this company's history, and no one else can say that. I earned the monicker the Marathon Man because I'm known for coming out victorious on the other side of long matches, multiple separate matches a night, because I've been in the finals of the Grand Prix every year since I stepped foot in this company. And, I won't lie. The dangers of being in this match weigh on my mind like anyone else. But I'm confident. I'm confident because I am the Marathon Man. I've earned that distinction and I have no problem looking each and everyone of you in the eye and reminding you that this is another marathon and there' s only one man in this match qualified and capable of running a gauntlet. So even if I have to start this match, I'll the run gauntlet of five other men and win this match, by hook or by crook. The Despot of FIW steps through the ropes onto the steel flooring outside and with the pace of a man browsing a museum he wanders into one of the pods. He reaches up and takes a handful of the chains in his hands. Krychek: So while the nightmarish entity known as the Panopticon sears its way into our consciousness while the seconds tick away... While Mungrel is stressing about his actions in the match, and Rowley is losing his sleep... While the Rougarou meant for intimidation but has fallen silent since, and for the longest stretch Nathaniel Alexander's brash, braggert boasts had fallen silent when it might just matter most... I've got nothing to lose. I'm not failing an intimidation check. 1. I'm not trying to keep myself in check. I'm not losing any sleep. I'm not silent. Six of us walk into the Panopticon on Monday and we're going to be locked in this place where no one goes. The only difference about my walking... Never mind the accolades. Never mind the impeccable track records. Never mind the bollocks. I'm walking in relatively stress free. I have nothing to prove and nothing to lose. My future is guaranteed, gentlemen. Because I am Rurik Krychek and the future...is a Dual Crown Championship match one way or another. And the scene abruptly ends while Krychek examines the pod. We don't need a fancy ending. I think the words speak for themselves. |
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