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Task and Purpose; The Gunslinger 001
Topic Started: Jun 10 2016, 03:35 AM (23 Views)
Alejandro
The Iron Saint
"People ask me. Why return to an audience that doesn't know how to comprehend what you're telling them, Jaime? Your rhetoric would be wasted on them. You speak beyond what your peers can understand. You speak of judgment and of taking responsibility for your own actions. Why speak of these things, if the message will simply get lost in the loud shouting of groups like HATE and the Youth? The warriors of the EWA are all selfish creatures. Why bother going back?

Jaime looked at the camera and smirked.

“Because that’s why.”

The large Cuban started looking at his laptop and pulled up a random wrestling website. The usual format was seen on it. A black background with advertisements was seen in view.

"This generation is not my generation. This generation of fan has the internet at its fingertips. But for all of the 'social interaction' you do. All of you are hollow and alone. Nobody can have a decent conversation anymore, because everyone is buried in a tablet, a laptop or a 'smartphone.' When is the last time that any of you have truly let anyone have a differing opinion in what they like to see? I'll bet 'never.' Because like the aforementioned groups, you speak of the path differently than the ones they want to take... They get so offended. So offended that they usually try to force their opinions upon EVERYONE. They sound just like... YOU."

Slowly, he closed his laptop and spun his chair around to look at the camera again...

"So, the people clamor for father to beat up son. In that case, Grady Smith and Martin Robertson. Hell, Martin's own 'teammates' are trying to further that divide. Maybe the 'champion' is a bit more insecure than we thought, isn't he? A borderline criminal like Chris Kage, who finds a way to get off charges like that. Maybe he and Brock Turner share the same lawyer from time to time. Which should concern everyone, honestly. A baby-faced rapist and a distinguished scumbag. Both men should be buried under the jail. But I'm sure some of you would turn a blind eye to it, too."

As Jaime looked around his room, he took notice of his bookshelf and stopped for a monent.

"Hell, I wonder about the quality of person we've got around the EWA. Between the emotionally compromised like Michael Draven. Who thinks with his penis about Margaret more than his own safety. To a man like Indrid Calder, who calls himself 'The Stranger.' A man who will try to use any psychological weakness he can to get inside the mind of his opponent and cripple them at will. It's a great strategy that I used ages ago, too. To try to exploit the weaknesses of a person. However, Indrid. There's a difference between myself and a Michael Draven. You can try to go after my soon to be wife, but she's just as dangerous as I am, if not more. You could go after my daughter, but I'm sure her stepfather, who was called "The Intruder" for a reason... I'm sure he has no qualms about making a new hole in your chest with his twelve gauge above his door. Or you can use exploits from my past. I'll admit to just about every one of them. Just don't go prying into my personal life too much. You'll make Miss Seton very uncomfortable."

A chuckle left his bearded face. The thought of making someone that uncomfortable seemed to amuse him a bit.

“Not that I’m very concerned about her comfort of anything she would have to say. She doesn’t interest me unless she has something of value. Like a title she can hold onto for more than a month, per say. That would be a great start. Of course, I’d have to fit a match in-between the Youth taking away her titles. I could simply just go in and take what I wanted, too. But that’d be very Youth-like. And that’s not something I’m going to get into. Not to mention that I like the fact that I’m still on my first liver… I’ve got nuts and bolts all over parts of my body, but that’s par for the course, too.”

He looked at the camera and nodded for a second.

“Let’s get to the brass tacks of what I’m going to do. As I said, nobody is exactly prepared for anything that can or would happen in the course of time. This sick game keeps happening ad nauseum. So, what if everything goes away, EWA viewers? No Youth. No HATE. No Hierarchy. No old men. No selfish individuals. Everything goes back to what it should be. A sport of kings and queens. This entertainment stuff is all fluff and stupidity. It’s wrestling. It’s a sport. Not amusement. This isn’t checkers, it’s chess. One man or woman outwitting another man or woman. The endurance of the human body taking abuse. About what Mirage’s woman is doing. Even if she’s a bit sloppy like her husband. She’s embodying the spirit of the past a hell of a lot more than the rest of you are.”

He stood up and looked at the camera.

“I’ll even be blunt when I’m appearing, so you kids can pirate the broadcast or pool the money together for a PPV feed. You can even pay the 9.99 a month, if you wish. It isn’t going to be on Night One. It’s going to be on Night Two. And whoever wins that swell little World Heavyweight Championship Match… I’ll be fair and give you a warning. I’ll even bring a friend to handle the various groups that may/may not be hanging around, as well. Because nobody wants to screw with a Cuban with a baseball bat. As Major League Baseball can tell you, we’re good with them. And also be aware, nobody… and I mean, nobody, can stop me from making my point. Trust me, Chris. Ask your opponents. If I’m determined to give you a serious concussion for the hell of it, I can and I will.”

As he moved towards the camera, he stopped.

“Oh, and Stacy. Dravens. Don’t try to stop me. Especially you, Erik. You know better. I can make Chicago a giant bloodbath. And the bad part is, I probably will get more applause from that crowd than you’ll hear all year for your ‘champions.’ The Iron Saint is coming, EWA. Time to repent…”

Black.
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