Post by 𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 on Jan 30, 2022 13:28:00 GMT -5
 "Just remember - you wanted this." The darkness is illuminated by a bright white light coming from the wall of mismatched television screens. Corey Black stands before it, wearing an all white suit. His hands are clasped in front of him, fingers interlocked against his chest. He breathes in deep. "Every single time you've shown your face on camera, you've said my name. As if to conjure me from the ether and manifest a spot across the ring from me. I see you've paid attention to my career, because that's how Doc Henry and Adam Young were turned into human applesauce. It's funny, though, because you're - well you. An insignificant, hardly-trained, mostly concussed liability that had to fight his way through neighborhoods and warehouses to make it to the grandest stage of them all - and you stick out like a sore thumb. You've clawed and bled and broken bones to get to where you are only to shout my name from the rooftops and you expect to win?! Let's settle in for a reality check. I am the most in-demand professional wrestler on this planet today. I've got wrestlers, promoters and companies knocking down my door for appearances because not only do I sell tickets - I get it done when it matters most. I fight the biggest names on the biggest stages and you? You're hardly worth the front yard. But you couldn't help yourself. You couldn't look at the best to ever do it and just let it lie. You had to call me out for months. And I ignored you. For months. Not because I'm a bigger deal. Not because you're not in my league. Not because I'm that much better than you. All those things are true, but neither is the reason. You gave me seven days to answer your challenge. I didn't say a word. Fourteen days later - I still didn't say a word. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into. The ropes will come down and they'll be replaced with barbed wire. Bring your tubes, your tacks and your doors. It's a shame you left your team.. it would have taken every last one of you and then some to take down the King of Violence. That's your contention with me, isn't it? You think I have moved on from the trenches of the deathmatch world. Moved on to World Titles and dream matches. Well, you're right. But also - you're wrong. Does it piss you off knowing I do both at the highest level? It must. Sitting there with your PBR on your folding chair in your run-down trailer. Watching old Corey Black deathmatch tapes on your nineteen inch TV, eating beans out of the can with a wooden spoon. I am everything you hate but I haven't forgotten where I came from. Rooms that can only fit a hundred people, no air conditioning, only recorded to be sold on a shady website for seven bucks a pop. That's where the heart is though. That's where you find men and women doing it for the love of the game, not these over-inflated egos and movie stars clinging to every last bit of the spotlight. The thing you're missing here is that I can do both. With the best of them. My loyalty has been the reason why I haven't been doing the underground runs. I am Action Wrestling. I'm not Jersey City Rumblers, I'm not Delaware Deathmatch Society - you go where the fight it, I have the fight come to me. And boy, does the fight ever come to me. But to sit where you are and bemoan someone like me - well, that's just asking to get your head smashed in. Destroy whatever brain cells you have left in your gray matter filled skull and sew your mouth shut. For as much as it runs, you sure as hell haven't ever shown anybody you're worthy of a contest with the King. You were granted one as an assurance that I will fight ANYONE that asks, but it will be on my terms. I have earned that. I will continue to earn that. And I will make you regret the day you assumed the deathmatch legend died. My name is Corey Black. Yours isn't even worth mentioning." A grin forms on the face of the King, as one by one the televisions blink off. When the final one does, the transmission ends. |
