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| The Declaration; -=Holland, Breed, Six Man, BR, Ect Ect=- | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 30 2017, 08:10 PM (20 Views) | |
| Willie | Apr 30 2017, 08:10 PM Post #1 |
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-=Badd Breed=-
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The Badd Breed is here, having commandeered an FIW camera and set it up outside the arena where the Badd Breed seem to have carved their own little temporary territory for themselves. There seems to be no special training sessions happening here. No real over the top confidence either. Erik Holland, who looks calm and together (for once) is flanked on his left by Mr. Misery, who has gotten ahold of an apparatus that holds a heavy bag and is throwing combinations at it, and Valiente DARK on on his right, looking as intimidating as possible. "No secret that after last week's ReVolt, the Breed is finally feelin' like things are going our way for once. Let me first address the situation with The Judge. Yes, the Judge is OUT of the Breed. Because the pressure of doing a great and a momentous thing in pro wrestling, it got to him. It got to him and he attacked a brother. That's why we did what we did and EMPHATICALLY sent the Judge packing back to ruling on parking tickets or whatever the fuck he used to do." Although Misery is still pounding away at the bag, he speaks up as well in that curious monotone. "And when I brought that mask to Valiente DARK. That had been something that'd been in the works for a few weeks. It is no secret that Erik Holland and I were great admirers of who was once known as El Valiente. His tireless pursuit of destroying dark forces, going to any lengths to ensure anyone who threatened this great sport suffered as thoroughly as possible in the attempt..That is the essence of what the Badd Breed is here to do. So finally we convinced Valiente, Esqueleto, whatever he once was...to don the mask that BELONGED to him once again and truly awaken what he is really capable of." The black-painted lips of the mysterious luchador crack open in a smile. As always when he speaks, it is in musical and fluent Spanish, and the FIW offices are so helpful as to provide subtitles in English. "[And I am forever grateful to these gentlemen for showing me my true nature. Harnessing the power of the dead was not what I was meant to do, as great and brave as you must be to do so. Instead, I was shown that what I truly needed to do, what would TRULY allow me peace in my mind and heart and focus me on what really matters was to don the familiar mask again, don the cape again, and harness the power of Lucha~. The same power that nearly brought me the Dual Crown Championship. The same power that allowed me to become one of the longest reigning Fighting Spirit campeones in the history of that great and prestigious championship. The same power that gave birth to Los Luchas and allowed Blink and myself to defend the campeones de parejas con FIW with Grace, Bravery and Power--the three things that a luchador must value the most! And now we are rewarded with this great week by facing...tres soplagaitas?! These peinabombillas?" FIW is NOT going to translate that, but effectively Val just called his three opponents "bagpipers" and "ones who comb lightbulbs", meaning they are stupid, naive people. Perhaps he's using a little more Spanish because of our good buddy Rob Garcia, the Rising Champion, whos mouth has unsurprisingly drawn the ire of the Badd Breed. It's Holland's turn to speak again. "Easy, Val, easy. We should be feelin' GOOD. I finally got one over on Joe Stanton last week--beers were the shit by the way, Joe, good eye--and now we get to beat up the biggest gang of morons and idiots in this company. HANGERS ON for the Coulter Crew. Guys so irritating, uptight, arrogant and annoying that even Stephen Eversol and Kimmy are sick of listening to them. Cuz first, you got Alastor Saintclare. Some kinda' mountain man, right? Thinks he's tough, thinks he's a badass because he eats bark and shits pinecones? Look, pal. You ain't been around long so I'll cut you a little slack, but let my Badd Breed teach you what real, raw toughness is all about and maybe next time you won't dilute your kettle coffee with milk 'cuz it's 'too bitter'." Misery pipes up again. "Colin Stiles. Leave him to me. He says we are nothing on his scope and I'd like to personally demonstrate to this young--talented, yes--but naive man that anyone who says the Badd Breed is not on their radar is quite simply deluding themselves. He doesn't trust his own partners, either, which I will again show him how foolhardy that is. This Badd Breed, Erik, Valiente--I trust them as if they were extensions of myself, limbs on my own body--and not just the ones, Colin, that I am going to relentlessly batter you with." Holland now waves a hand at the camera as he speaks again, Erik getting the attention back on him. "As ready as these two are? Just wait till you see what I do to the Reigning and Defending Rising Champion when I get these big mitts on him. Rob Garcia, if talking shit made you the World Champ you'd have broken Xtreme Kitten's record reign by now. I don't think there's a single person in the world of pro wrestling--and I can't say there maybe ain't a few in the Coulter Crew--that would love to see me shut your mouth even just for a few minutes. You don't need to worry about the Rising Championship either--the plans I have for the FSC, for the Battle Royal that i WILL win--make that tuna can lid sitting on your arm obsolete to me. My one and ONLY goal is recapturing MY Fighting Spirit Championship and not letting Stephen Eversol degrade that championship any longer." Erik glowers at the camera now as the Breed join him, side by side again. "Rob, Alastor, Colin, I hate to break it to ya but you boys are going to get the worst beating you have yet to receive in your painfully short careers in FIW. You've had it easy so far. My Badd Breed is the VERY first real test you're gonna get. And it's a test that you're going to fail. Then the Coulter Crew, good luck...I'm coming for you next." Fade. |
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8:19 AM Jul 11