Post by TOUCHDOWN on Feb 4, 2023 2:27:56 GMT
York Hall - London, England
10pm
Post-Aftershock
10pm
Post-Aftershock
The post-show crowd shuffles around the bowels of York Hall. Drunk on revelry of a great night or just simply drunk. Preparing to filter out back to their homes or planning the next venue to descend upon for the night. All notion of joy is disintegrated however as one man and his crew enter the fans’ line of sight.
Alastor Touchdown walks with purpose. Looking dead into the camera held by his lackey Tuna Meltzer and flanked by his bodyguard/fixer JGR - pushing back fans and shielding his client from their abuse, which is considerable.
“There’s a common theme I keep seein’ amongst the IPW competitors lately: injustice.”
“Whether it’s people who can’t stand losing to me. Or McCain yapping like a dog. Or Nate The Whale bemoaning all the humiliation Chaos Theory’s suffered at the hands of Team Touchdown.” Although his voice is measured, Touchdown has to yell towards the camera to be heard of the torrent of boos. Jeers and middle fingers spat at him from every direction.
“But I’m here to tell you and all these people, that it doesn’t have to be that way. See, you all wake up each day and make choices and the choices you make keep leading you to dead ends. You choose to cheer hypocrites and charlatans like ‘The Messiah of Alimony’: PRICE who’ll let you down time after time like he did his family. You choose to boo me, who’s career has been nothing but a GODSEND for IPW and I haven’t even hit my prime yet! Look around me!” Tuna swings the camera around to catch the wave of hatred aimed directly at Team Touchdown. JGR and venue security being the only thing keeping jeers from becoming a riot.
“But I’m here to tell you and all these people, that it doesn’t have to be that way. See, you all wake up each day and make choices and the choices you make keep leading you to dead ends. You choose to cheer hypocrites and charlatans like ‘The Messiah of Alimony’: PRICE who’ll let you down time after time like he did his family. You choose to boo me, who’s career has been nothing but a GODSEND for IPW and I haven’t even hit my prime yet! Look around me!” Tuna swings the camera around to catch the wave of hatred aimed directly at Team Touchdown. JGR and venue security being the only thing keeping jeers from becoming a riot.
“Step the hell back!” JGR snarls, shoving a fan back into the arms of his friends.
“WHO HERE’S A PRICE FAN!?”
“WHO HERE’S A PRICE FAN!?”
Disdain gives way to a crescendo of defiant cheers, a small “PRICE” chant even breaking out towards the back of the crowd. Touchdown appears nonplussed as he continues his stride.
“No damn sense! No damn sense! The people who throw their lot behind someone like PRICE are sheep. They wanna feel good about themselves by supporting someone who panders to their every whim, but make no mistake, it’s hollow. It’s a learned tactic from a snake oil salesman! The only person who’s real in IPW is Alastor Touchdown! Despite claims to the contrary, I’m not a bad guy, I’m just a different kind of hero.”
“That’s why people who came to see me, came to see someone they can look up to. Someone who can make them better. I don’t hide behind any empty platitudes, I lead from the front! Which is why PRICE may be the more popular man, but I’m the Champion. When I go to sleep tonight, it’s with the Openweight title at my side, while every single one of my enemies lie awake at night wishing they could beat me at my own game!”
“Last warning, back the FUCK off!” A much more emphatic shove to another unruly fan. JGR’s strength sending the man plummeting hard onto the concrete floor.
Touchdown weaves through the crowd of people, the group pushing their way towards a specific destination. Tuna’s back opens a set of double doors that the group enter through, silencing the boos, barely, as the fans are left outside the room.
“When it comes time for PRICE to face the music and fulfil his duty as number one contender, I’m going to destroy him. Completely and utterly. Because in doing so, I’ll be fulfilling my duty as leader. By humiliating false prophets who call themselves “Messiah” and waking the weak minded masses into reality. JUST like I did tonight in that ring, TUNA GET A SHOT OF THE RING!” Again, Tuna Meltzer swings his camera around to reveal the group have stepped into the Aftershock set. Chairs empty and ring in the process of being dismantled for the night. Touchdown steps in front of the camera, ring and JGR at his back.
“I ensured the success of Aftershock single handedly with my presence while shattering PRICE’s ego and his leg yet again! And make no mistake - when they meet at Adrenaline - James Griggs Riley will finish the job and tear it clean off the bone!”
JGR says nothing, a cold piercing stare making his intentions clear.
“And after he’s done beating you like a dog, you can go on to let your buddy Nate down. Just like you let your daughter down and those two drooling idiots you call sons and every single person stupid enough to put their faith behind a fraud.”
“Until that time, you keep baskin' in people calling you The Messiah of Hardcore. Whether they like it or not, they'll still be callin' me the Openweight Champion. So you can speak on that, bitch.”
Touchdown and JGR walk off, Meltzer ends the recording with a fade to black.
“No damn sense! No damn sense! The people who throw their lot behind someone like PRICE are sheep. They wanna feel good about themselves by supporting someone who panders to their every whim, but make no mistake, it’s hollow. It’s a learned tactic from a snake oil salesman! The only person who’s real in IPW is Alastor Touchdown! Despite claims to the contrary, I’m not a bad guy, I’m just a different kind of hero.”
“That’s why people who came to see me, came to see someone they can look up to. Someone who can make them better. I don’t hide behind any empty platitudes, I lead from the front! Which is why PRICE may be the more popular man, but I’m the Champion. When I go to sleep tonight, it’s with the Openweight title at my side, while every single one of my enemies lie awake at night wishing they could beat me at my own game!”
“Last warning, back the FUCK off!” A much more emphatic shove to another unruly fan. JGR’s strength sending the man plummeting hard onto the concrete floor.
Touchdown weaves through the crowd of people, the group pushing their way towards a specific destination. Tuna’s back opens a set of double doors that the group enter through, silencing the boos, barely, as the fans are left outside the room.
“When it comes time for PRICE to face the music and fulfil his duty as number one contender, I’m going to destroy him. Completely and utterly. Because in doing so, I’ll be fulfilling my duty as leader. By humiliating false prophets who call themselves “Messiah” and waking the weak minded masses into reality. JUST like I did tonight in that ring, TUNA GET A SHOT OF THE RING!” Again, Tuna Meltzer swings his camera around to reveal the group have stepped into the Aftershock set. Chairs empty and ring in the process of being dismantled for the night. Touchdown steps in front of the camera, ring and JGR at his back.
“I ensured the success of Aftershock single handedly with my presence while shattering PRICE’s ego and his leg yet again! And make no mistake - when they meet at Adrenaline - James Griggs Riley will finish the job and tear it clean off the bone!”
JGR says nothing, a cold piercing stare making his intentions clear.
“And after he’s done beating you like a dog, you can go on to let your buddy Nate down. Just like you let your daughter down and those two drooling idiots you call sons and every single person stupid enough to put their faith behind a fraud.”
“Until that time, you keep baskin' in people calling you The Messiah of Hardcore. Whether they like it or not, they'll still be callin' me the Openweight Champion. So you can speak on that, bitch.”
Touchdown and JGR walk off, Meltzer ends the recording with a fade to black.
