Post by Max f'n Daemon on Sept 4, 2022 12:26:57 GMT -5
Max Daemon leans against a tombstone. However, he is blocking who it belongs to. With a top-down look, we can see Doc Knockem digging the grave inside the hole and Roddy Zalez lying on the ground next to it. He has his Raybans on over his face.
Kitsumi is nowhere to be seen.
Max clears his throat.
“One week later after my…unfortunate loss, and we can all agree that the best part of the match, or at least the most memorable, was the buddin rivalry between the Dirge and Dorian’s…dreamers.
This was the way ta' end the main event.
This was the way we ended CruiserClash.
And Lazzy just had ta' get himself involved, huh?
I will never understand Joey’s obsession with bookin 3-way matches. What does he get by throwin in someone ta' a match where they don’t belong?
And make no mistake about it, Lazzy…ya' do not belong in the main event, in the match with Dorian and I, or even in a match with me.
Whatever beef you and I might have is dwarfed tenfold by the beef I now have with Dorian.
In absolutely no way did your involvement help the match last week, and in absolutely no way will our match this week help ya' whatsoever.”
Doc lets out a sigh, continuing to dig the hole. Roddy takes off his Raybans, standing up and walking off screen.
“Lazzy, you’re an arrogant son of a bitch, and normally I’d respect that, and I do, on some level. On some level, in some aspects, I do respect ya' Lazzy.
But after last week, I don’t like ya'.
Lazzy, you have had more spotlight since the two of us have been goin at it, but it’s not because they’re focusin on ya', of course not. No, whatever spotlight ya' have showcasin your talents isn’t pointed at you, it’s just remnants of the halogen lights that are floatin off me, onta' you.
Nothing ya've done has ever been good enough ta' break out.
And quite frankly, Lazzy, nothin ya' will ever do will be good enough.
That isn’t because you’re bein held down or held back like my fellow Dirge members, nah.
That isn’t because someone in AW is racist or just really wants ta' stick it ta’ those Latinos, nah, check out lWo ta’ see how bullshit that is.
The answer, like always, is much more simpler than race or ability or some other third thing that might influence ya' inta’ believin in yourself long enough ta' make me give a shit.
Nah, Lazzy…the answer is…ya’ just plain suck.”
Doc tosses the shovel out of the grave. He hops out and walks over, joining Roddy off screen.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, ya' have some great talent in the ring, but for all the natural athleticism ya' can muster, I’m that much better.
For all the fire ya’ pull out of your ass every week ta’ tell your opponents of your victory, I bring the fire that…much…more.
Every…fuckin…time I step in that ring, I do it knowin that I’m gonna bring out my best.
Whether against Hopeless in 5 minutes so she can go ta’ the back and fuck her now ex.
Whether against Johnny-boy in a hardcore deathmatch for the second-rate Pure Title.
Whether against Conor fuckin McGregor in the main event of a UFC pay-per-view.
I’m gonna give everyone I’m facin my best. And that isn’t because they deserve it, nah…it’s a fuckin courtesy.
One that even someone like you, Lazzy, get ta’ afford.
Because quite frankly, this little run you’re on of bein in the main event? Of facin someone of my talent and my caliber?
After this match?
It’ll be over.”
Max stands up, staring into the camera lens.
“I don’t care where ya’ go, Lazzy, but ya’ ain’t stayin here.
CruiserClash needs room for Dirge.
It needs room for people with actual talent and ability.
It need room for someone who can take this fuckin brand and turn it inside out until all that’s left in its ruin is chaos and destruction.
CruiserClash needs its savior.
CruiserClash needs…Max…fuckin…Daemon.”
He steps away towards his allies, revealing the name on the tombstone.
Kitsumi is nowhere to be seen.
Max clears his throat.
“One week later after my…unfortunate loss, and we can all agree that the best part of the match, or at least the most memorable, was the buddin rivalry between the Dirge and Dorian’s…dreamers.
This was the way ta' end the main event.
This was the way we ended CruiserClash.
And Lazzy just had ta' get himself involved, huh?
I will never understand Joey’s obsession with bookin 3-way matches. What does he get by throwin in someone ta' a match where they don’t belong?
And make no mistake about it, Lazzy…ya' do not belong in the main event, in the match with Dorian and I, or even in a match with me.
Whatever beef you and I might have is dwarfed tenfold by the beef I now have with Dorian.
In absolutely no way did your involvement help the match last week, and in absolutely no way will our match this week help ya' whatsoever.”
Doc lets out a sigh, continuing to dig the hole. Roddy takes off his Raybans, standing up and walking off screen.
“Lazzy, you’re an arrogant son of a bitch, and normally I’d respect that, and I do, on some level. On some level, in some aspects, I do respect ya' Lazzy.
But after last week, I don’t like ya'.
Lazzy, you have had more spotlight since the two of us have been goin at it, but it’s not because they’re focusin on ya', of course not. No, whatever spotlight ya' have showcasin your talents isn’t pointed at you, it’s just remnants of the halogen lights that are floatin off me, onta' you.
Nothing ya've done has ever been good enough ta' break out.
And quite frankly, Lazzy, nothin ya' will ever do will be good enough.
That isn’t because you’re bein held down or held back like my fellow Dirge members, nah.
That isn’t because someone in AW is racist or just really wants ta' stick it ta’ those Latinos, nah, check out lWo ta’ see how bullshit that is.
The answer, like always, is much more simpler than race or ability or some other third thing that might influence ya' inta’ believin in yourself long enough ta' make me give a shit.
Nah, Lazzy…the answer is…ya’ just plain suck.”
Doc tosses the shovel out of the grave. He hops out and walks over, joining Roddy off screen.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, ya' have some great talent in the ring, but for all the natural athleticism ya' can muster, I’m that much better.
For all the fire ya’ pull out of your ass every week ta’ tell your opponents of your victory, I bring the fire that…much…more.
Every…fuckin…time I step in that ring, I do it knowin that I’m gonna bring out my best.
Whether against Hopeless in 5 minutes so she can go ta’ the back and fuck her now ex.
Whether against Johnny-boy in a hardcore deathmatch for the second-rate Pure Title.
Whether against Conor fuckin McGregor in the main event of a UFC pay-per-view.
I’m gonna give everyone I’m facin my best. And that isn’t because they deserve it, nah…it’s a fuckin courtesy.
One that even someone like you, Lazzy, get ta’ afford.
Because quite frankly, this little run you’re on of bein in the main event? Of facin someone of my talent and my caliber?
After this match?
It’ll be over.”
Max stands up, staring into the camera lens.
“I don’t care where ya’ go, Lazzy, but ya’ ain’t stayin here.
CruiserClash needs room for Dirge.
It needs room for people with actual talent and ability.
It need room for someone who can take this fuckin brand and turn it inside out until all that’s left in its ruin is chaos and destruction.
CruiserClash needs its savior.
CruiserClash needs…Max…fuckin…Daemon.”
He steps away towards his allies, revealing the name on the tombstone.
