Post by George Duke on May 28, 2007 14:06:51 GMT -6
At the corner bar, a sweaty George Duke relaxes with a beer and a cigar. The day has been long and full of vigerous training. Tomorrow will be the same. He gazes at the velvet portrait of W.C. Fields and smiles. Fields reminds him of the potential thievery and deception that his upcoming match may hold. He knows that he must figure out how to work with and against every man in this match.
“A very tricky situation we have here. Four men meet in the ring and only then will teams be announced. It really makes you want to choose your words carefully. One must really think about every possible combination and situation that this match could hold in store.”
George puffs on his cigar and lets the smoke flow out of his mouth and fill the air.
“Lestat has had his ups and downs in this company. He seems to have some sort of talent, which wouldn’t make my back hurt that much from carrying the team. As an opponent, I am in no way worried about Lestat. He’s thin as a rail and a good stiff blow would ruin his pretty boy features. He should go off to Hollywood to be a star, which seems to be all he wants, anyway. If we have to team up, let’s just make the best of it, eh? Try to pull your weight. If you become a threat to the match, I’ll kick you out of the d**n ring and do the damn match myself.”
George scratches his head in slight confusion as he talks about his next opponent or partner.
“Shadow is a rather tall guy. But wait – Holy Shit! He’s a ghost! Right? I dunno. I won’t even think too hard about this or else my brain will explode. So, you’ve created a grand backstory filled pain and darkness. You were evil, and then you got shot. And then your soul is forced to wrestle in regional promotions for a small payoff. Okay. Then – you have some sort of squash match with some stupid kid – and you ‘go crazy’ and hurt him. Shadow, these sorts of things went out of style a long time ago. It’s been done, and I’m not impressed. You talk a lot of shit, but when it comes down to it – you’re just a big nothing. Now, I will grant you one thing – for having such a large frame, you are very agile and limber. You fly around off the top rope and use a number of moves usually reserved for people two feet shorter and a hundred pounds lighter. I guess I could say that it’s a strength. If we have to team up, it might get ugly. You’re nasty attitude is going to get your teeth knocked out, my friend. If you think for one second that you’re going to ‘take me out if I get in your way’, you are sorely mistaken. If you even look at me wrong, I’m going to crush your skull in, you hear me?”
George grins as smoke pours out from behind his teeth. He knows his next subject very well, and has a few things to say about him.
“Now, King Cobra – we go back. We had huge battles in GCW. When you showed up here, it was a mixed feeling. I was glad to see someone with some skill came around. It was good to see an actual d**n wrestler show up in POW. I was getting lonely, you see. However, it stirred up old feelings. No sooner did I read your name on the roster did I fill with blood lust. Since then, you’ve called me out and we’ve exchanged blows. This will be the first time we meet in a POW ring. With Tito being the rotten, no-good, son of a bitch promoter that he is, you will probably end up being my partner. If this happens, I know that you and I can put our differences aside for one match. We can work together for the sake of the paycheck and the notch on our belts. As soon as that closing bell rings, we can go back to hating eachother. But the same thing goes for you as it did with the two other schmucks. If you get cross with George Duke, I’d be more than happy to lay you out, Cobra.”
George stands and tosses a bill on the bar.
“Whatever happens, I trust that my partner will be professional and skilled enough to pull his weight. You all know that I will – you’d better do the same.”
George winks, motioning for the bartender to keep the change and leaves to continue training for the day.
“A very tricky situation we have here. Four men meet in the ring and only then will teams be announced. It really makes you want to choose your words carefully. One must really think about every possible combination and situation that this match could hold in store.”
George puffs on his cigar and lets the smoke flow out of his mouth and fill the air.
“Lestat has had his ups and downs in this company. He seems to have some sort of talent, which wouldn’t make my back hurt that much from carrying the team. As an opponent, I am in no way worried about Lestat. He’s thin as a rail and a good stiff blow would ruin his pretty boy features. He should go off to Hollywood to be a star, which seems to be all he wants, anyway. If we have to team up, let’s just make the best of it, eh? Try to pull your weight. If you become a threat to the match, I’ll kick you out of the d**n ring and do the damn match myself.”
George scratches his head in slight confusion as he talks about his next opponent or partner.
“Shadow is a rather tall guy. But wait – Holy Shit! He’s a ghost! Right? I dunno. I won’t even think too hard about this or else my brain will explode. So, you’ve created a grand backstory filled pain and darkness. You were evil, and then you got shot. And then your soul is forced to wrestle in regional promotions for a small payoff. Okay. Then – you have some sort of squash match with some stupid kid – and you ‘go crazy’ and hurt him. Shadow, these sorts of things went out of style a long time ago. It’s been done, and I’m not impressed. You talk a lot of shit, but when it comes down to it – you’re just a big nothing. Now, I will grant you one thing – for having such a large frame, you are very agile and limber. You fly around off the top rope and use a number of moves usually reserved for people two feet shorter and a hundred pounds lighter. I guess I could say that it’s a strength. If we have to team up, it might get ugly. You’re nasty attitude is going to get your teeth knocked out, my friend. If you think for one second that you’re going to ‘take me out if I get in your way’, you are sorely mistaken. If you even look at me wrong, I’m going to crush your skull in, you hear me?”
George grins as smoke pours out from behind his teeth. He knows his next subject very well, and has a few things to say about him.
“Now, King Cobra – we go back. We had huge battles in GCW. When you showed up here, it was a mixed feeling. I was glad to see someone with some skill came around. It was good to see an actual d**n wrestler show up in POW. I was getting lonely, you see. However, it stirred up old feelings. No sooner did I read your name on the roster did I fill with blood lust. Since then, you’ve called me out and we’ve exchanged blows. This will be the first time we meet in a POW ring. With Tito being the rotten, no-good, son of a bitch promoter that he is, you will probably end up being my partner. If this happens, I know that you and I can put our differences aside for one match. We can work together for the sake of the paycheck and the notch on our belts. As soon as that closing bell rings, we can go back to hating eachother. But the same thing goes for you as it did with the two other schmucks. If you get cross with George Duke, I’d be more than happy to lay you out, Cobra.”
George stands and tosses a bill on the bar.
“Whatever happens, I trust that my partner will be professional and skilled enough to pull his weight. You all know that I will – you’d better do the same.”
George winks, motioning for the bartender to keep the change and leaves to continue training for the day.
