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| The Cliffs of Dover; ~Drake Love~ | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 26 2009, 11:22 PM (46 Views) | |
| Drake | Mar 26 2009, 11:22 PM Post #1 |
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Drake Love
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[align=center]VIDEO SEGMENT[/align] Blue. Miles and miles of endless crystallized blue. As far as the eye’s gaze can reach, there is crisp blue. The light pastel blue of the skyline seems to meld directly into the darker and sterner coloring of the deep blue sea, but it is all blue. The camera pans backwards and we get a clash against the world of blue. Tan invades the palette as the sandy beach moves up to confront the ocean’s attack, meeting it at the lowered crest. Standing at this crescendo of twirling coloring is none other than the FIW Undisputed International Champion, Drake Love. A pair of khaki shorts garnish his legs while an open flowered Hawaiian shirt billows freely into the wind. Drake is not bare-chested though, he has on a long sleeved undershirt that clings to the curves of his muscular torso. Drake’s eyes are covered by a pair of thin framed sunglasses but the smile on his face tells the mood of our UIC. Drake: I hear there is a blizzard back home in Denver. That must suck. Granted it is only in the mid forties here, but still beats six inches of snow. Fresh crisp air and the sun is shining here on the White cliffs of Dover. Tomorrow I hit the open road and head out to Cardiff. That’s right boys and girls, we are just mere days away from the biggest show of the year, Anarchy in the UK. And for the price of one ticket, you get to watch Drake Love kick the living piss out of not one member of SS&S but two of those spineless eels. A two for one special at no additional price. The camera twists around to show that Drake is indeed at the base of the infamous white chalked Cliffs. Shaking his head as the wind still billows his overshirt, Drake looks out at the water. His back seems rigid as the wind kicks up, likely sending more of that cool ocean breeze to envelop Drake. Drake: For months now, my old buddy Sean Madrox has been like a leech, attached to my neck and trying to suck the life out of me. Now while we all know that being around Jim and Prime, Sean is more than used to sucking, it is becoming to be more than a boorish annoyance. You think you are worthy of the Undisputed International Championship? You have been at this game for months now and have failed at every turn. What makes you think that this Sunday is going to be pay day? Removing his sunglasses and folding the earpieces down slowly, Drake’s face contorts a bit as frustration brews in his eyes like a bad thundercloud. He gently places the folded eyewear into his breast pocket before he begins to speak again. Drake: Oh that’s right, you have your boy Blake Orange in the ring with you. While neither of you can overcome me one on one, surely the two of you together will be able to take me out. Right? Of course, there is always that heavy chance that one of you dirty snakes will betray the other in a chance to try to steal the championship for yourselves. So I wonder, can you two really work together to take me out? Or will you make my job a cake walk by trying to take one another out as well? Tsk tsk. I guess time will tell. But I will say this much, you two didn’t seem that friendly in your Trial Series match. A penny to listen in on Smarty’s thoughts right now. That annoyed face Drake began with has now shifted into a slight grin. However as he falls silent the grin slides away. Drake: Let’s not get the facts twisted here though. I still remember why I lost the Fighting Spirit Championship and to who. Blake Orange stole the show at the Summer of Sin Pay Per View and cemented his name from random tag team wrestler to legit FIW superstar. He didn’t just make his name randomly though, he made his name at my expense. A slight that I have never forgotten and damn sure will never forgive. Blake Orange can sit there all he wants and talk about how history is going to repeat itself, the truth is that history is going to be corrected once and for all. I am going to prove that your win at Summer of Sin last year was a fluke and that despite all your bravado that the bottom line is simple, you are not better than Drake Love. Turning a few steps away from the coastline, Drake heads upshore a couple of paces towards the cocaine looking cliffs. Drake: Smarty Smark can send all the goons he wants, one by one or in pairs or hell, send them all at once for all I care. Sean Madrox and Blake Orange are both going to step foot into the ring and use everything in their arsenal to strip this title away from me but they both are going to come away with nothing but failure in the end. The only way I am letting this title belt out of my hands is if I am cold, dead and buried. And even then I won’t be handing it over to anyone aligned with the message in a bottle squad. So come one, come all to the show that never ends. Drake shows the camera his back as he pulls out his sunglasses out again. He places them on his face as he stoically heads towards the white mass awaiting in front of him. |
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