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| Masks And Reality; ~Drake Love~ | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 23 2010, 08:26 AM (37 Views) | |
| Drake | Jul 23 2010, 08:26 AM Post #1 |
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Drake Love
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[align=center]![]() VIDEO SEGMENT[/align] Remember those old 1970 TV shows that had various action heroes seated on top of the hood of the car? As if having the ability to sit somehow conveyed a suave sense of purpose for the protagonist, this was a common theme that faded out over the years. Cleary Drake didn’t get the memo that this type of visual cue has been played out and is pretty cheesy. Drake is staring off to the left of the camera shot, clearly trying to add to his aloof nature. His hands are also stuffed in the pockets of his washed out blue jeans with his thumbs hanging over the edge. His collared shirt is unbuttoned all the way down to reveal a plain white tee underneath. A pair of mirrored sunglasses appears to be the cherry on this absurd James Dean impression sans the leather jacket, cool hair and of course edgy attitude. Adjusting the toothpick hanging from the side of his mouth, Drake slowly brings his gaze over to the camera with a cocky smirk. He begins talking in his best “cool guy” voice, which honestly just makes him sound sort of absurd. Drake: Summer of Sin is taking a bit too long to arrive. I am literally licking my lips in anticipation of what is to come. I feel like I am a kid waiting for Christmas to arrive. Despite already knowing what my present will be, I can wait to get a chance to have that gift wrapped sonofabitch Clay Krueger in front of me to do as I will. Months and months of built up frustration and restrained fury get to all be let out and with one very specific focal point to point it at. Drake removes the toothpick from his mouth and spins it around aimlessly between his fingertips for a long moment. Drake smirk fades a bit and his voice levels out back towards being normal. Still has a douchebag undertone but not nearly as blatant. Drake: I know people are expecting me to see Keith Williams when I enter into the ring on Sunday. That just isn’t true. While the two men have some common factors, they are very different people. I understand that and to fool myself into thinking anything else would be a good way to have Clay sneak a win out from under my nose. Clay Krueger is a bit more reserved and what I assume is calculating. While Keith Williams has been shouting at anyone that will listen about how he is going to win the Dual Crown Championship, Clay has been quiet in the shadows. I am sure he is brewing up all sorts of diabolical schemes he plans to implement at my expense but I might just have a few audibles up my sleeve. Drake bends his elbow in dramatic fashion to place the toothpick back into his mouth and in one continuous motion, Drake also tips down his shades just a tinge so that the top of his eyes can be seen. Drake: Clay Krueger talk about a better class of villain, about the caliber of which the bastards of the world are to present themselves and a few other well stated over exaggerations of half truths. The man has a certain flare for repackaging his boisterous misconceptions to be more glamorous and elaborate then they really are. Make no mistake about it, Clay certainly is not a stupid man. I will be the first to openly admit that. That is in his favor. What isn’t in his favor? The truth is despite Clay’s built up achievements, the man is virtually untested in singles competition. His tag team success is hard to refute but this isn’t a tag team match. This is a Steel Chairs are Legal match and the only person tagging Clay on Sunday will be yours truly when I tag him in his face with a solid steel chair. Drake once again resorts to using the toothpick as a visual prop, this time he flicks it away in his best bad boy act. Drake: This is a showdown that has been on a collision course for Summer of Sin since before I even stepped a foot back into the ring. The storm clouds were brewing before even I or probably Clay realized that it meant a face off for us here. Not the course I would have piloted by my own free will but none the less it is one I most certainly anticipate with great joy. For months now I have played the victim to the plots and schemes of Hollywood Chainsaw Massacre. Crafty and conniving those two weasels are and outwit the fox in me they have done so indeed. So far that is. Smiling what appears to be a genuine expression of joy as opposed to some cool cat pose, Drake licks his lips as he visualizes the upcoming event. Drake: No more games. No more tricks or ambushes. Only battle. You have proven you are a crafty little bastard Clay but will you be able to prove that you are a fearsome competitor? This is the question we have on hand. Without Keith Williams at your side, are you a man of your own free will and standing ability? Or will you falter and crumble at my feet like so many that have come before you? Clay is hardly the first man to attempt to destroy me in a fit of some sort ill-conceived plan. Many have tried, some have come close and but in the end all have failed. Snatching off his sunglasses, Drake’s eyes show a different side to this tale. While he has been doing his best Cool Hand Luke impression, acting as aloof as he can, his eyes tell a different tale. Anger and fury blend beyond the irises of Drake, and there is a hint of madness slowly lurking behind the surface. Drake: We are about to go to a place few ever go Clay. Are you ready for the ride? I assure you that not even Keith can prepare you for the twisted path we venture down now. Armdrags, hip tosses, and rest holds are thrown out the window. A battle of flying fists and violent kicks? Too timid for the show we have in store. Mild is the man who comes looking to see competition. We are going to war Clay. War is an ugly beast with many horrific things that scar the soul and wound the spirit. It will not be a pretty affair, likely unsuitable for children, the elderly and some small household pets. It will be the flesh bending to the will of steel. It will be rivers of blood flooding out after being released from the mortal coil. It will be agony and misery from nightmares come to life. This is what awaits you Clay. This is what you have forced the path to take. Don’t say you were not warned off the repercussions of your actions. Fate has a funny way of folding back onto the wicked. Drake has clearly tapped into the true nature of his feelings and his masquerade is revealed as lies. He angrily whips the shades out of sight and peels off his nice over shirt. Drake flings the shirt into the dust and dirt at his feet but still seems unsatisfied. Drake’s entire body seems tensed up and awaiting a violent release. Finding nothing around him though, Drake is forced to resort to simply kicking the headlight out of his own car. Which probably is a move he will regret when he has to pay for repairs. None the less, Drake gets into the car and drives off without another word. Clearly his emotions overcame the man and he was unable to keep up the show he wanted to present to Clay. Fade to black. |
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8:35 AM Jul 11