Post by Corey Bull on Nov 18, 2018 19:50:51 GMT -5
OFFCAMERA
Backstage after the last Clash, Bull is standing with his back to a wall, arms crossed. If his visage could tell the story, then there would be smoke pouring off of Bull’s body and fire flaming out of his eyes. As it is, a very pissed off Abagail Voorhees comes out of the door that he is standing next to. And she is sporting an eye that is growing black and bruised.
“I want that sneaky little bastards head on a pole!”
Bull turns to her and immediately checks her over again, lifting her up and inspecting her...somewhat invasivly.
“Put me down! You can look me over later when I’m not wearing clothes and not this pissed off!”
Bull sets her down and tilts his head.
“What did the doctor say?”
“Nothing I haven’t heard before. Same shit...new injury. Doesn’t matter Bull...this is a declaration of war and I am going to march my boot right up his ass.”
Bull grins and nods.
“No doubt. But not during the match.”
Abagail’s mouth drops open slightly.
“Are you banning me from ringside?!”
“No, we just don’t want to play their game. This is what they want. And we don’t play that way. This is going to be our match...our night...our title. And we will play the game our way.”
Abagail nods. Her hand flies out in a claw shape, cupped up.
“And when it does...I’m going to fucking neuter that little bastard!”
“Bull chuckles approvingly.
“Good. Now...we need to focus. It is time for our own brand of turmoil.”
ON CAMERA
**The camera opens to the empty Wembley Stadium. The ground crew is preparing for Action Wrestlings big pay per view, with the ring already being set up center stage. Barriers are being resurrected, ground cover is being placed, the whole show is coming together. In the stands, sitting with his arms resting on his thighs, bent over with his fingers clasped, is the monster Corey Bull. Abagail Voorhees is standing behind him, hands on his shoulders, massaging them slowly. But anyone that knows Bull knows that the tension in them is going nowhere.**
“Timing. Timing is the means by which many a plan is successful. And you had the plan Dandy. You had it right there on Clash. But you did more then disrespect our manager…your little symbiot of a manager attacked the woman we love. You went below the belt....”
**Bulls eyes turn to the camera and there is a collapsing of people across England from the mere shock of Bull’s look**
“...but we are going to go further Dandy. You took a cheap shot...but we are not going to take one. Instead...let us warn you right from the start...that our intent is to injure you...disabilitate you….and render you utterly useless. It isn’t going to be the few months, then you come back ready to go. No...we are going to make you look and act like you had a stroke and a car wreck at the same time. The ER nurses are going to get sick and the amount of damage that your body is about to sustain. This isn’t a game...we are not being colorful or as they say here...cheeky. We are as serious as a fucking heart attack. When we get through with you Dandy...you going to be the afterbirth of your own career...put in a bag and disposed of properly.”
**Abagail smiles something very sadistic and Bull just continues to look at that camera with that look of utter hatred**
“You can take our words for what they are...words. We can speak tell you the many ways we are going to beat you. We can describe to you in detail the many different ways we are going to bend your arm...to watch the bone snap slowly...the tendon ravel up and the muscle rip from it. The sound will be something like a tree branch snapping. Mix that with the ripping sounds...and it will be the opening act for your own symphony of decimation. That is just one limb Dandy.”
**Bull holds up a single digit for emphasis**
“One. Limb. You have four limbs, two hands, two feet, one spine….are you seeing where this is going? We could do this all day...in great detail. But that is just us talking Dandy….that is just us laying out the foundation of your destruction. And for many people...that would be enough. That would be the one thing that sends fear careening down their spine and ejecting piss in their pants. But not for you. No...you have this thing where you believe you are the better wrestler. You truly think we were about to be beaten by Ultimate Destroyer. You truly think that you have handed us a gift. But you haven’t. Instead...you have handed yourself a defeat. You have placed yourself in a dangerous situation. One that we expect a man of your scruples to realize half way through how much of a mistake it was and attempt to use your broken body to escape.”
**Bull waggles that one finger back and forth, a tsk tsk sort of a motion**
“But escape will not be possible. The end...it will not come as fast as you will hope that it will. Your mind will spend its time trying to decide if it should attempt to run or just lay down and die...for fight will be so far out of your range by this point that it won’t even be a suggestion. You see Dandy...this is more than just a physical assault. We are going to attack your mind and your very being. We know how to lay this game Dandy. It goes beyond words. It is the kind that leaves your mind racing...chaotic in the moment. That is our comfort zone. Chaos is just another thing that wraps us in its sweet embrace like a lover and guides us through the maelstrom.”
**Bull reclass his hands and a sort of smile graces his face. He cracks his neck and that sounds like a tree snapping off of its trunk as it echoes in Wembley**
“Words. Thats’ all this is Dandy. Words. We have told you what is going to happen. We are going to beat you for the US title. Your reign is over. The question is...how much of Dandy will be left when we are done? Are you really gaining an edge in the fight….or are we letting you think that? Was this your plan to take back your win...or ours to defeat you for your title? Questions Dandy…questions you will ask yourself after this match. They will haunt you. You may appear to be this no fucks given guy on screen...but we think that is just a fantasy. The fantasy you want to sell to A-dub and the fans. The reality...is you are just one crushing defeat away from throwing it in. Well Dandy...your crushing defeat has been ordered by you personally. And at Turmoil…there will be no person in the entire building...no one...that will have any doubt about who we are or what we are capable of.”
“And you Dandy….”
**Bulls smirkish grin becomes purely predatory**
“...you will have been NAILED BY HATE!”
**Bull stands...scary fast for his size...and walks away. Abagails face says it all...she can smell the carnage...as the camera fades to black**
Backstage after the last Clash, Bull is standing with his back to a wall, arms crossed. If his visage could tell the story, then there would be smoke pouring off of Bull’s body and fire flaming out of his eyes. As it is, a very pissed off Abagail Voorhees comes out of the door that he is standing next to. And she is sporting an eye that is growing black and bruised.
“I want that sneaky little bastards head on a pole!”
Bull turns to her and immediately checks her over again, lifting her up and inspecting her...somewhat invasivly.
“Put me down! You can look me over later when I’m not wearing clothes and not this pissed off!”
Bull sets her down and tilts his head.
“What did the doctor say?”
“Nothing I haven’t heard before. Same shit...new injury. Doesn’t matter Bull...this is a declaration of war and I am going to march my boot right up his ass.”
Bull grins and nods.
“No doubt. But not during the match.”
Abagail’s mouth drops open slightly.
“Are you banning me from ringside?!”
“No, we just don’t want to play their game. This is what they want. And we don’t play that way. This is going to be our match...our night...our title. And we will play the game our way.”
Abagail nods. Her hand flies out in a claw shape, cupped up.
“And when it does...I’m going to fucking neuter that little bastard!”
“Bull chuckles approvingly.
“Good. Now...we need to focus. It is time for our own brand of turmoil.”
ON CAMERA
**The camera opens to the empty Wembley Stadium. The ground crew is preparing for Action Wrestlings big pay per view, with the ring already being set up center stage. Barriers are being resurrected, ground cover is being placed, the whole show is coming together. In the stands, sitting with his arms resting on his thighs, bent over with his fingers clasped, is the monster Corey Bull. Abagail Voorhees is standing behind him, hands on his shoulders, massaging them slowly. But anyone that knows Bull knows that the tension in them is going nowhere.**
“Timing. Timing is the means by which many a plan is successful. And you had the plan Dandy. You had it right there on Clash. But you did more then disrespect our manager…your little symbiot of a manager attacked the woman we love. You went below the belt....”
**Bulls eyes turn to the camera and there is a collapsing of people across England from the mere shock of Bull’s look**
“...but we are going to go further Dandy. You took a cheap shot...but we are not going to take one. Instead...let us warn you right from the start...that our intent is to injure you...disabilitate you….and render you utterly useless. It isn’t going to be the few months, then you come back ready to go. No...we are going to make you look and act like you had a stroke and a car wreck at the same time. The ER nurses are going to get sick and the amount of damage that your body is about to sustain. This isn’t a game...we are not being colorful or as they say here...cheeky. We are as serious as a fucking heart attack. When we get through with you Dandy...you going to be the afterbirth of your own career...put in a bag and disposed of properly.”
**Abagail smiles something very sadistic and Bull just continues to look at that camera with that look of utter hatred**
“You can take our words for what they are...words. We can speak tell you the many ways we are going to beat you. We can describe to you in detail the many different ways we are going to bend your arm...to watch the bone snap slowly...the tendon ravel up and the muscle rip from it. The sound will be something like a tree branch snapping. Mix that with the ripping sounds...and it will be the opening act for your own symphony of decimation. That is just one limb Dandy.”
**Bull holds up a single digit for emphasis**
“One. Limb. You have four limbs, two hands, two feet, one spine….are you seeing where this is going? We could do this all day...in great detail. But that is just us talking Dandy….that is just us laying out the foundation of your destruction. And for many people...that would be enough. That would be the one thing that sends fear careening down their spine and ejecting piss in their pants. But not for you. No...you have this thing where you believe you are the better wrestler. You truly think we were about to be beaten by Ultimate Destroyer. You truly think that you have handed us a gift. But you haven’t. Instead...you have handed yourself a defeat. You have placed yourself in a dangerous situation. One that we expect a man of your scruples to realize half way through how much of a mistake it was and attempt to use your broken body to escape.”
**Bull waggles that one finger back and forth, a tsk tsk sort of a motion**
“But escape will not be possible. The end...it will not come as fast as you will hope that it will. Your mind will spend its time trying to decide if it should attempt to run or just lay down and die...for fight will be so far out of your range by this point that it won’t even be a suggestion. You see Dandy...this is more than just a physical assault. We are going to attack your mind and your very being. We know how to lay this game Dandy. It goes beyond words. It is the kind that leaves your mind racing...chaotic in the moment. That is our comfort zone. Chaos is just another thing that wraps us in its sweet embrace like a lover and guides us through the maelstrom.”
**Bull reclass his hands and a sort of smile graces his face. He cracks his neck and that sounds like a tree snapping off of its trunk as it echoes in Wembley**
“Words. Thats’ all this is Dandy. Words. We have told you what is going to happen. We are going to beat you for the US title. Your reign is over. The question is...how much of Dandy will be left when we are done? Are you really gaining an edge in the fight….or are we letting you think that? Was this your plan to take back your win...or ours to defeat you for your title? Questions Dandy…questions you will ask yourself after this match. They will haunt you. You may appear to be this no fucks given guy on screen...but we think that is just a fantasy. The fantasy you want to sell to A-dub and the fans. The reality...is you are just one crushing defeat away from throwing it in. Well Dandy...your crushing defeat has been ordered by you personally. And at Turmoil…there will be no person in the entire building...no one...that will have any doubt about who we are or what we are capable of.”
“And you Dandy….”
**Bulls smirkish grin becomes purely predatory**
“...you will have been NAILED BY HATE!”
**Bull stands...scary fast for his size...and walks away. Abagails face says it all...she can smell the carnage...as the camera fades to black**
OFF CAMERA
Excerpt from the book written about Corey Bull entitled "Diary of a mad Hatebringer."
Chapter 4
As dictated to the author by an individual that wished to remain nameless, due to the nature of the story
"He broke his neck. And he didn't just break it...he did it slowly. You expected violence at these things. They were illegal, held in just about any place the cops weren't. But to see someone die in front of you like that, it was mortifying.
And he did it so slowly. It's like he felt every crack and crunch and it just made him want to do it more. And the sound, my god man the sound. You could hear it clear as fucking day. Everyone stopped breathing for that instant. I don't doubt a few people got sick. The man tyried to fight back, but Bull had him locked up tight and just kept turning his head to finally, thankfully, it was over. But man, I swear to god, once his neck snapped, Bull was looking into his eyes and he hadn't moved. That is how sickly strong that mother fucker is and we are glad he doesn't show up at these fights no more. "
Comment about this story from Corey Bull
"We felt every little bit of it and it was exciting. Not in that sex way that sick fucks are about...but in a more sadistic way. We wanted everyone to know....this is slow...this is painful...this is the worst way to die. And to know its coming...to flail around like a rag doll and realize you can't stop it. We wanted each person...including our own victim...to watch him be murdered."