Post by cyborg878 on Apr 10, 2020 16:30:17 GMT -5
The sun shines down on a beautiful San Diego home. In the backyard of this home rests one Damon Warrens basking in the rays, a clear internal metaphor for his basking in his recent victory. As the Nitemare leans back in his poolside beach chair the events of Battlecade run through his mind. Damon's peaceful face twists in anger and concern as his mind flashes to the sight of Smith Jones crashing into Jaime, Damon's lover crumpling under the attack. This relaxes however as his memories change to soaring from the top rope and hitting Jones with the Deus Ex Machina.... crawling to a cover... and listening as the referee brings his hand to the mat for a third time. The feeling of perfect elation as the realization sets in that he did what everyone told him was impossible for him.
Damon smirks as his thoughts come back to the present. He tilts his jet black sunglasses up so he can look clearly down at what is wrapped around his waist... the Alpha Pro Wrestling World Championship. He unfastens the championship and holds it with the face plate upright. He reads the name on the championship: Damon Warrens. No one could deny his ability anymore. Not James Baker and PCW. Not Liam Reilly and CCP. Not Jason Ryan and his tainted Bloodline. Not the Redneck Nation. Not his evil Russian Spy of a boss. Not even Smith Jones. Not a single person could reasonably look down upon Damon anymore for with this championship being in his possession he was now the king looking down upon all of them.
As a king he should have a queen...or the non-heteronormative equivalent... and his one day fellow king.. well Damon counted himself lucky every day that he had someone so loyal, loving, patient.. and admittedly gorgeous to reign beside him. Speak of the devil...or more appropriately the devil's most devoted.. Jaime walks out holding a tray with drinks and food on it which he sets onto a small side table next to Damon. The beautiful Cuban-American male is currently going for the less is more approach with most of his sun-kissed skin showing with the exception of a tight metallic gold speedo that leaves little to the imagination.
Damon: Praise Satan.. you are sinful in those trunks..
Jaime: Oh... these? Thought the gold might match your nice shiny new championship nicely...wouldn't you agree?
To emphasize his point Jaime climbs onto Damon's lap, the championship going flush against his abs, and as Jaime deduced the title and his 'outfit' are a perfect match. Damon bites his lip as an assortment of inappropriate thoughts race through his mind.
Damon: Jaime... why do you test me so?
Jaime: Because it's fun... and because since you won this championship you have done NOTHING to celebrate. You've been all business. You need to relax.
Damon: Jaime... that's because now the easy part is over... I won the title... now I have to keep it. Have you been paying attention to how many people are trying to get my attention now? How many people who are chomping at the bit to take their shot at the king?
Jaime: Yeeeeeees. I know babe. You have the inbred lesbian honky tonk badonkadonks going after all of the Architects. They ruined your moment of glory.. be we got our revenge against them last week.
Damon: Yes Jaime we did. But it was a victorious battle within what is sure to be a lengthy war. But beyond them I've got the delusional movie star and his band of misfit toys.
Jaime: C'mon Damon... let's be honest... no one in APW is concerned at all with the Dud-line. I don't think they've won more than two matches combined. They're nothing! Besides isn't Smith taking out Soul Raver this week?
Damon: Reaver.
Jaime: Yeah exactly! Him too! So who do you really need to be concerned about?
Damon: Well... there is the fact that my team-mate and supposed closest ally is still trying to call his shot.
Jaime: Smith lost something he held with pride.. of course he wants it back. But you've beaten him already. You can do it again. Look babe... you need to destress...even just for a day. I love this serious devilish side of you, don't get me wrong, but you have to let loose sometime.
Damon sighs knowingly. Jaime is absolutely correct. He's held the championship for almost two weeks now and he's yet to do anything in celebration of the fact. Immediately after the match the Cowgirls tore away his moment of glory. Since then Damon's been focused on trying to get all of the Architects on the same page. The Nitemare reaches out and lovingly strokes Jaime's arm.
Damon: You're right mi amor. So do you have any suggestions?
Jaime: Well I don't, but there is a strange APW fansite I found. Looked into their chat-logs and let me tell you...they have some demands.
Damon: .... dare I ask?
Jaime: Well let's see some of their demands were a little.... ummm unconventional? They did request blood orgies for the blood gods...
Damon:That was probably just Jason Ryan posting that. That sounds like his sorta shtick.
Jaime: Fair.. now beyond that there were numerous requests for... and I quote " more gay shit" and "more whips, more chains".
Damon: Now that... that I can do.
Damon pulls Jaime in for a kiss, the younger male wrapping his arms around the champion's neck. The two pull close their bare chests meeting and the passion increasing. The two begin to lose themselves when Damon clears the sex induced fog in his head and realizes that maybe the backyard isn't the best place for them to continue this. He pulls away and as he does Jaime tries to follow, but is stopped by Damon's index finger on his lips. The young male frowns.
Damon: Jaime... I think this would be better continued indoors.. after all you did say there was a demand for more whips and chains..
Jaime grins and dismounts Damon's lap before waiting rather impatiently for Damon to slowly rise from his seat, grab his championship and making his way inside painstakingly slowly. Damon goes into his lounge and carefully places the championship on a red velvet covered pedestal so that it won't be tainted by the sins he and Jaime are about to commit together. Damon looks at Jaime and without a word communicates the fact Jaime better get downstairs to their dungeon like room...and he better do so quickly. Jaime nods and hurries downstairs.
When Damon arrives downstairs Jaime is already at their pre-scene table. Damon makes his way over and sees the desperation in Jaime's eyes.
Damon: So what would you be comfortable with Jaime?
Jaime: Whips, chains....gay shit... surprise me.
Damon pauses for a second to think before he gets a scandalous idea. He grabs Jaime by the arm and leads him over to a rack like table near the corner of the room.
Damon: Lie down. Now.
Jaime does just that. The young man has a look that can only be described as equal parts intrigue, arousal, and concern at his situation. All three of these feelings intensify when Damon holds Jaime's wrist against the flat table and forcefully brings it above his head. Jaime suddenly feels cold steel against his wrist as Damon locks his arm in place with a shackle. Jaime's other arm is given the same treatment as the first. Jaime tests the shackles, struggling against the metal. As he does he finds a hand around his throat holding just strong enough to show control, but not enough to cause any damage. Jaime settles long enough for Damon to move to the other end of the table. He runs a hand up on of Jaime's legs, teasing the younger man, but pulling the leg to the side and locking it too in place before locking the other.
Damon: Before we go any further Jaime. What's your colour?
Jaime: Green sir.
Damon: Good.
Damon leaves for what seems like several minutes. Jaime at first remains patient, but eventually he begins to look around for his boyfriend who he spots off on the other side of the room. Jaime spots a reddish light that gives off a flickering glow. After several moments more Damon turns around revealing the source of the light: an ornate tray upon which are placed several large burning candles. Damon reaches the immobile Jaime and one by one places the burning candles at various points on the table around the vulnerable man. Jaime without thinking blurts out a thought.
Jaime: Are you about to sacrifice me or something?
Damon: Did I give you permission to speak boy? No. I didn't. If you speak out of line again I will be forced to put a gag in your mouth. Do you want that?
Jaime shakes his head.
Damon: That's what I thought. As for your rude question. NO I am not about to sacrifice you. See I personally find candles to be... relaxing... romantic even. What I like about them even more is that they present an undertone of danger. Heat... fire.. it can cause so much damage... but Jaime as you will soon realize... it can cause soo much pleasure too.
Jaime's eyes go wide as Damon reaches for a candle. He blows out the lit wick and pause before slowly tipping it. Jaime watches as the melted wax quickly pours from the candle; his eyes following the drops before they hit his chest. The second they meet his skin he feels a moment of a burning pain against his flesh, but it just as quickly melts away into an erotic pleasure. Damon continues this line of action as several more candles are blown out and melted red wax paints Jaime's chest before cooling.
Damon: I think that I need to unveil all of the canvas I wish to paint...
Damon leaves once again leaving Jaime in sexual frustration as Cortez struggles against his restraints. He stops when he sees Damon returning, not wanting to seem defiant to his dom. However he resumes his struggling when Damon holds up a pair of scissors.
Damon: I would suggest for your benefit that you stop moving.
Jaime heeds Damon's advice and stares with concern as Damon runs the metal scissors down Jaime's chest, the contrast of the cold metal from the burning wax causing the man to arch his back. The scissors are dragged further however which is when Jaime comes to the realization of what Damon meant by unveiling more canvas. The Nitemare grabs at the waistband of the metallic gold speedo. The blades of the scissors surround the material and begin to slice through the only article of clothing on Jaime's body. Against his natural instincts of preservation Jaime places trust in Damon and doesn't move until the blades have finished their work and the swim trunks have been removed from his body leaving him fully exposed and vulnerable to his partner. Damon sets down the scissors and reaches for another candle. He brings it to his lips and blows out the flame. He looks Jaime in the eyes, the mix of fearful anticipation and unstoppable sexual tension clear on the trapped man's visage. The scene fades out as Damon drips the wax onto Jaime in the most sensitive of areas.
-----------------------------------------
A camera flicks to life and begins recording in the Landers Center in Southaven, Mississippi. An event crew is beginning to set up for the upcoming episode of Monday Night Metal. The crowd's seating has already been set up and the ring is beginning to be built. In one of the seats near what will soon be ringside sits Damon Warrens. The Nitemare is decked out in a deep red suit, but the piece de resistance is the immaculate APW World Championship he has resting on his shoulder. He looks towards the camera and the normally stoic or angry Damon has a proud and smug smirk across his face.
Damon: APW... a New Era has arrived and I must say I feel absolutely unstoppable. Two weeks ago I fulfilled a promise to you and more importantly to myself. It was a promise to overcome, to outperform, to silence any non-believers. When all seemed lost, when endless vicious strikes Smith Jones couldn't end the story.. I did what any hero in a seemingly hopeless situation would do.. I called upon the powers of a DEUS EX MACHINA to save the day. And it did just that. Now while Smith Jones was a great ruler he lacked the ruthless aggression required to maintain that rule. And that dear APW fans is where I come in. I promise to furiously fight on your behalf. I promise to hold this championship with dignity. I promise to carry on Smith's legacy of only the highest quality of matches. Smith whether willingly or not has passed on his torch and I shall carry it high.
Damon takes the championship off his shoulders and looks at it with admiration.
Damon: This.. this is the highest of honors. This however is also the largest of targets. In just two weeks time I have heard declarations from many that they intend to lay siege on my precious title. I barely had any time to soak in the win before I found myself having to fight off the cast of "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" alongside my Architect brethren. These Cowgirls wanted our attention and they had it. You made your statement after my match at Battlecade, and Smith's match last week on Metal. Something you should know about the Architects though ladies is that our messages will always be stronger and will always resonate more.
Damon is determined as he stares directly into the eyes of the viewers he is imagining in the camera's lens.
Damon: Speaking of the Architects... everyone has tried to spin a tale of internal squabbling and destruction. I am here to set the record straight. Although we differ in our methods.. and although Smith has his eyes on my throne.. we are unified. The Architects were not created to feed one person's ego. We were created to build a higher standard of competition. We unified to save the wrestling business from 'sports entertainers' and mediocre wrestlers. We are brothers that are dedicated to this vision. Brothers may argue, but when outside threats target that brotherhood... all tension becomes null and void. So congratulations Cowgirls from Hell. You thought that you could latch onto rumored cracks in our foundation, but all you did was reinforce our determination and dedication. With the three of us working as one there is NO SITUATION WE CANNOT CONQUER!
Damon smirks and raises his index finger as he comes to a realization.
Damon: Situation... what a perfect segue. This Monday I find myself having to go toe-to-toe with a giant of a man: Mike "The Situation" Matthews. Mike Matthews is over six feet tall, over three hundred pounds. He is by far the most physically intimidating opponent I have found myself having to face. Mike is more than just a human wall though.. he's a lifelong fan of this business. Mike has been so determined to make his dreams come true. He paid his dues in the independent scene and Mike believes in his enlarged heart that he is ready for the big leagues.
At this point the lights in the arena dim. Damon keeps the shot lit with a red candle in one hand. Damon moves his other hand up dramatically imagining this heartfelt story.
Damon: Unfortunately Mike's dream got hit with an unfortunate case of reality last week. I get it Mike you came in here hot. You won your first match at a Pay-per-view at that! You feel this high of victory and you think you're an unstoppable freight train... and then you crash right into an Architect. Last week you admitted you knew you were a rebound. That was the most intelligent thing I've heard out of your mouth in the short time you've been here Mike. You were Smith's rebound. Rebounds are typically easy... mean nothing.. never as good as what you once had.. they only exist to get you back on your feet so you can walk towards better. That's what you did for Smith. You were and easy victory... your words meant nothing... you were a pitiful opponent who couldn't hold a candle to Smith's prior fight... me. Most importantly beating you got Smith back on his feet. So I guess I should thank you. You served your purpose. And that's just what you'll do this week too.
In his free hand Damon holds his championship so the camera can take in every detail.
Damon: Mike you find yourself in an ... unfortunate Situation. Last week you fell to the former champion... this week you fall to the current reigning. See this gold here means that I am the best of the best... the creme de la creme. I am the bar upon which everyone else in this company will measure themselves too. Mike you have heart... although I am very certain that heart is attached to some clogged arteries.. for the time being it is ticking. Beyond heart you have the size advantage here. I caution you to try to rely on superficial advantages. I am the Devil Himself. I have torn through people who were quicker than I. I have debunked those who thought themselves tougher. I have outwitted geniuses. I have outwrestled technicians. I beat SMITH FUCKING JONES. I am the king of this company and Mike... you can't hold a candle to me.
Damon holds the candle to his lips and blows out the flame and the scene goes black.
Damon smirks as his thoughts come back to the present. He tilts his jet black sunglasses up so he can look clearly down at what is wrapped around his waist... the Alpha Pro Wrestling World Championship. He unfastens the championship and holds it with the face plate upright. He reads the name on the championship: Damon Warrens. No one could deny his ability anymore. Not James Baker and PCW. Not Liam Reilly and CCP. Not Jason Ryan and his tainted Bloodline. Not the Redneck Nation. Not his evil Russian Spy of a boss. Not even Smith Jones. Not a single person could reasonably look down upon Damon anymore for with this championship being in his possession he was now the king looking down upon all of them.
As a king he should have a queen...or the non-heteronormative equivalent... and his one day fellow king.. well Damon counted himself lucky every day that he had someone so loyal, loving, patient.. and admittedly gorgeous to reign beside him. Speak of the devil...or more appropriately the devil's most devoted.. Jaime walks out holding a tray with drinks and food on it which he sets onto a small side table next to Damon. The beautiful Cuban-American male is currently going for the less is more approach with most of his sun-kissed skin showing with the exception of a tight metallic gold speedo that leaves little to the imagination.
Damon: Praise Satan.. you are sinful in those trunks..
Jaime: Oh... these? Thought the gold might match your nice shiny new championship nicely...wouldn't you agree?
To emphasize his point Jaime climbs onto Damon's lap, the championship going flush against his abs, and as Jaime deduced the title and his 'outfit' are a perfect match. Damon bites his lip as an assortment of inappropriate thoughts race through his mind.
Damon: Jaime... why do you test me so?
Jaime: Because it's fun... and because since you won this championship you have done NOTHING to celebrate. You've been all business. You need to relax.
Damon: Jaime... that's because now the easy part is over... I won the title... now I have to keep it. Have you been paying attention to how many people are trying to get my attention now? How many people who are chomping at the bit to take their shot at the king?
Jaime: Yeeeeeees. I know babe. You have the inbred lesbian honky tonk badonkadonks going after all of the Architects. They ruined your moment of glory.. be we got our revenge against them last week.
Damon: Yes Jaime we did. But it was a victorious battle within what is sure to be a lengthy war. But beyond them I've got the delusional movie star and his band of misfit toys.
Jaime: C'mon Damon... let's be honest... no one in APW is concerned at all with the Dud-line. I don't think they've won more than two matches combined. They're nothing! Besides isn't Smith taking out Soul Raver this week?
Damon: Reaver.
Jaime: Yeah exactly! Him too! So who do you really need to be concerned about?
Damon: Well... there is the fact that my team-mate and supposed closest ally is still trying to call his shot.
Jaime: Smith lost something he held with pride.. of course he wants it back. But you've beaten him already. You can do it again. Look babe... you need to destress...even just for a day. I love this serious devilish side of you, don't get me wrong, but you have to let loose sometime.
Damon sighs knowingly. Jaime is absolutely correct. He's held the championship for almost two weeks now and he's yet to do anything in celebration of the fact. Immediately after the match the Cowgirls tore away his moment of glory. Since then Damon's been focused on trying to get all of the Architects on the same page. The Nitemare reaches out and lovingly strokes Jaime's arm.
Damon: You're right mi amor. So do you have any suggestions?
Jaime: Well I don't, but there is a strange APW fansite I found. Looked into their chat-logs and let me tell you...they have some demands.
Damon: .... dare I ask?
Jaime: Well let's see some of their demands were a little.... ummm unconventional? They did request blood orgies for the blood gods...
Damon:That was probably just Jason Ryan posting that. That sounds like his sorta shtick.
Jaime: Fair.. now beyond that there were numerous requests for... and I quote " more gay shit" and "more whips, more chains".
Damon: Now that... that I can do.
Damon pulls Jaime in for a kiss, the younger male wrapping his arms around the champion's neck. The two pull close their bare chests meeting and the passion increasing. The two begin to lose themselves when Damon clears the sex induced fog in his head and realizes that maybe the backyard isn't the best place for them to continue this. He pulls away and as he does Jaime tries to follow, but is stopped by Damon's index finger on his lips. The young male frowns.
Damon: Jaime... I think this would be better continued indoors.. after all you did say there was a demand for more whips and chains..
Jaime grins and dismounts Damon's lap before waiting rather impatiently for Damon to slowly rise from his seat, grab his championship and making his way inside painstakingly slowly. Damon goes into his lounge and carefully places the championship on a red velvet covered pedestal so that it won't be tainted by the sins he and Jaime are about to commit together. Damon looks at Jaime and without a word communicates the fact Jaime better get downstairs to their dungeon like room...and he better do so quickly. Jaime nods and hurries downstairs.
When Damon arrives downstairs Jaime is already at their pre-scene table. Damon makes his way over and sees the desperation in Jaime's eyes.
Damon: So what would you be comfortable with Jaime?
Jaime: Whips, chains....gay shit... surprise me.
Damon pauses for a second to think before he gets a scandalous idea. He grabs Jaime by the arm and leads him over to a rack like table near the corner of the room.
Damon: Lie down. Now.
Jaime does just that. The young man has a look that can only be described as equal parts intrigue, arousal, and concern at his situation. All three of these feelings intensify when Damon holds Jaime's wrist against the flat table and forcefully brings it above his head. Jaime suddenly feels cold steel against his wrist as Damon locks his arm in place with a shackle. Jaime's other arm is given the same treatment as the first. Jaime tests the shackles, struggling against the metal. As he does he finds a hand around his throat holding just strong enough to show control, but not enough to cause any damage. Jaime settles long enough for Damon to move to the other end of the table. He runs a hand up on of Jaime's legs, teasing the younger man, but pulling the leg to the side and locking it too in place before locking the other.
Damon: Before we go any further Jaime. What's your colour?
Jaime: Green sir.
Damon: Good.
Damon leaves for what seems like several minutes. Jaime at first remains patient, but eventually he begins to look around for his boyfriend who he spots off on the other side of the room. Jaime spots a reddish light that gives off a flickering glow. After several moments more Damon turns around revealing the source of the light: an ornate tray upon which are placed several large burning candles. Damon reaches the immobile Jaime and one by one places the burning candles at various points on the table around the vulnerable man. Jaime without thinking blurts out a thought.
Jaime: Are you about to sacrifice me or something?
Damon: Did I give you permission to speak boy? No. I didn't. If you speak out of line again I will be forced to put a gag in your mouth. Do you want that?
Jaime shakes his head.
Damon: That's what I thought. As for your rude question. NO I am not about to sacrifice you. See I personally find candles to be... relaxing... romantic even. What I like about them even more is that they present an undertone of danger. Heat... fire.. it can cause so much damage... but Jaime as you will soon realize... it can cause soo much pleasure too.
Jaime's eyes go wide as Damon reaches for a candle. He blows out the lit wick and pause before slowly tipping it. Jaime watches as the melted wax quickly pours from the candle; his eyes following the drops before they hit his chest. The second they meet his skin he feels a moment of a burning pain against his flesh, but it just as quickly melts away into an erotic pleasure. Damon continues this line of action as several more candles are blown out and melted red wax paints Jaime's chest before cooling.
Damon: I think that I need to unveil all of the canvas I wish to paint...
Damon leaves once again leaving Jaime in sexual frustration as Cortez struggles against his restraints. He stops when he sees Damon returning, not wanting to seem defiant to his dom. However he resumes his struggling when Damon holds up a pair of scissors.
Damon: I would suggest for your benefit that you stop moving.
Jaime heeds Damon's advice and stares with concern as Damon runs the metal scissors down Jaime's chest, the contrast of the cold metal from the burning wax causing the man to arch his back. The scissors are dragged further however which is when Jaime comes to the realization of what Damon meant by unveiling more canvas. The Nitemare grabs at the waistband of the metallic gold speedo. The blades of the scissors surround the material and begin to slice through the only article of clothing on Jaime's body. Against his natural instincts of preservation Jaime places trust in Damon and doesn't move until the blades have finished their work and the swim trunks have been removed from his body leaving him fully exposed and vulnerable to his partner. Damon sets down the scissors and reaches for another candle. He brings it to his lips and blows out the flame. He looks Jaime in the eyes, the mix of fearful anticipation and unstoppable sexual tension clear on the trapped man's visage. The scene fades out as Damon drips the wax onto Jaime in the most sensitive of areas.
-----------------------------------------
A camera flicks to life and begins recording in the Landers Center in Southaven, Mississippi. An event crew is beginning to set up for the upcoming episode of Monday Night Metal. The crowd's seating has already been set up and the ring is beginning to be built. In one of the seats near what will soon be ringside sits Damon Warrens. The Nitemare is decked out in a deep red suit, but the piece de resistance is the immaculate APW World Championship he has resting on his shoulder. He looks towards the camera and the normally stoic or angry Damon has a proud and smug smirk across his face.
Damon: APW... a New Era has arrived and I must say I feel absolutely unstoppable. Two weeks ago I fulfilled a promise to you and more importantly to myself. It was a promise to overcome, to outperform, to silence any non-believers. When all seemed lost, when endless vicious strikes Smith Jones couldn't end the story.. I did what any hero in a seemingly hopeless situation would do.. I called upon the powers of a DEUS EX MACHINA to save the day. And it did just that. Now while Smith Jones was a great ruler he lacked the ruthless aggression required to maintain that rule. And that dear APW fans is where I come in. I promise to furiously fight on your behalf. I promise to hold this championship with dignity. I promise to carry on Smith's legacy of only the highest quality of matches. Smith whether willingly or not has passed on his torch and I shall carry it high.
Damon takes the championship off his shoulders and looks at it with admiration.
Damon: This.. this is the highest of honors. This however is also the largest of targets. In just two weeks time I have heard declarations from many that they intend to lay siege on my precious title. I barely had any time to soak in the win before I found myself having to fight off the cast of "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" alongside my Architect brethren. These Cowgirls wanted our attention and they had it. You made your statement after my match at Battlecade, and Smith's match last week on Metal. Something you should know about the Architects though ladies is that our messages will always be stronger and will always resonate more.
Damon is determined as he stares directly into the eyes of the viewers he is imagining in the camera's lens.
Damon: Speaking of the Architects... everyone has tried to spin a tale of internal squabbling and destruction. I am here to set the record straight. Although we differ in our methods.. and although Smith has his eyes on my throne.. we are unified. The Architects were not created to feed one person's ego. We were created to build a higher standard of competition. We unified to save the wrestling business from 'sports entertainers' and mediocre wrestlers. We are brothers that are dedicated to this vision. Brothers may argue, but when outside threats target that brotherhood... all tension becomes null and void. So congratulations Cowgirls from Hell. You thought that you could latch onto rumored cracks in our foundation, but all you did was reinforce our determination and dedication. With the three of us working as one there is NO SITUATION WE CANNOT CONQUER!
Damon smirks and raises his index finger as he comes to a realization.
Damon: Situation... what a perfect segue. This Monday I find myself having to go toe-to-toe with a giant of a man: Mike "The Situation" Matthews. Mike Matthews is over six feet tall, over three hundred pounds. He is by far the most physically intimidating opponent I have found myself having to face. Mike is more than just a human wall though.. he's a lifelong fan of this business. Mike has been so determined to make his dreams come true. He paid his dues in the independent scene and Mike believes in his enlarged heart that he is ready for the big leagues.
At this point the lights in the arena dim. Damon keeps the shot lit with a red candle in one hand. Damon moves his other hand up dramatically imagining this heartfelt story.
Damon: Unfortunately Mike's dream got hit with an unfortunate case of reality last week. I get it Mike you came in here hot. You won your first match at a Pay-per-view at that! You feel this high of victory and you think you're an unstoppable freight train... and then you crash right into an Architect. Last week you admitted you knew you were a rebound. That was the most intelligent thing I've heard out of your mouth in the short time you've been here Mike. You were Smith's rebound. Rebounds are typically easy... mean nothing.. never as good as what you once had.. they only exist to get you back on your feet so you can walk towards better. That's what you did for Smith. You were and easy victory... your words meant nothing... you were a pitiful opponent who couldn't hold a candle to Smith's prior fight... me. Most importantly beating you got Smith back on his feet. So I guess I should thank you. You served your purpose. And that's just what you'll do this week too.
In his free hand Damon holds his championship so the camera can take in every detail.
Damon: Mike you find yourself in an ... unfortunate Situation. Last week you fell to the former champion... this week you fall to the current reigning. See this gold here means that I am the best of the best... the creme de la creme. I am the bar upon which everyone else in this company will measure themselves too. Mike you have heart... although I am very certain that heart is attached to some clogged arteries.. for the time being it is ticking. Beyond heart you have the size advantage here. I caution you to try to rely on superficial advantages. I am the Devil Himself. I have torn through people who were quicker than I. I have debunked those who thought themselves tougher. I have outwitted geniuses. I have outwrestled technicians. I beat SMITH FUCKING JONES. I am the king of this company and Mike... you can't hold a candle to me.
Damon holds the candle to his lips and blows out the flame and the scene goes black.
