Post by Jesse Jamester on Sept 22, 2021 15:12:31 GMT -5
“Out of commission, pffft.”
Leaning up against the wall in the backstage area of the arena. A camera pans in on Jesse from a side angle. No mask on, the grizzled veteran picked his teeth with a toothpick.
“Don’t go cry wolf if you can’t handle the big bad wolfie daddy,” Jesse snorts, unphased by the insult of Desolation. They had warranted that we were the victory to Dane’s success in his bout against Joseph Mack, and would take Jesse Jamester out of commission.
Knowing all along that as power shifted, the numbers would stack against him; Jesse was already ahead of his opponents. Chess, not checkers fellas.
Slapping the chest of a staff member walking through his shot, Jesse shoves him out of the scene.
Jesse Jamester: You failed again Desolation, just like you always do. I guaran-damn-tee you got no shot at taking me out, hell, I’ll put money on the opposite! I bet you both end up on stretchers when this match is over. Scott and I will be walking to the back asking for the Imperial Tag Title shot on night three!
Turning to face the camera, Jesse lifts up his head and pierces the camera.
Jesse Jamester: For all you thinking we are going to interfere in this match with Dane, what are you, dense? We are there as protection. Protection from the likes of people like Alex Turner, who can’t mind his own damn business. People like Bryan Chase, who had to play hero. What are you watching, we have been playing by the book, it’s everyone else who wants to muddy up the honor of this prestigious Double Crown Championship.
Clearing his throat.
Jesse Jamester: Nephilim, I am talking directly to you now. I want you to get real close to the screen, and turn the volume up so you don’t miss this one.
Jesse pauses, holding up fingers until he reaches three.
Jesse Jamester: Alright, now that I have your attention…. Words son, can be useful, when you can back them up. On night one of the Cruiser Cup, I’m going to see how many of your words you chew on while I run the ropes with you Nephilim. All that bitching that we are lackeys, the trap to the plan, it’s what you tell yourself so you feel better when you fail to deliver. Your regurgitating the same excuses I keep hearing week-after-week, and frankly, I thought you would be better… My mistake, gave you the benefit, should’ve listened to Steele. Can’t out run a fucking powerbomb son.
Fixing his collar on his jacket, Jesse flickers a smirk, barely visible through the beard.
Jesse Jamester: Necrophage, it was smart keeping your mouth shut - people hardly believed what your partner said, so wasting more of our time with your blabber was a blessing aye. Stick to your strengths, grab a spatula, and head down to Micky D’s, I hear they’re hiring. Remember boys, this isn’t personal, it’s just business. I call it like I see it.
Flicking the tooth pick out of the scene, Jesse walks off around the corner.
Leaning up against the wall in the backstage area of the arena. A camera pans in on Jesse from a side angle. No mask on, the grizzled veteran picked his teeth with a toothpick.
“Don’t go cry wolf if you can’t handle the big bad wolfie daddy,” Jesse snorts, unphased by the insult of Desolation. They had warranted that we were the victory to Dane’s success in his bout against Joseph Mack, and would take Jesse Jamester out of commission.
Knowing all along that as power shifted, the numbers would stack against him; Jesse was already ahead of his opponents. Chess, not checkers fellas.
Slapping the chest of a staff member walking through his shot, Jesse shoves him out of the scene.
Jesse Jamester: You failed again Desolation, just like you always do. I guaran-damn-tee you got no shot at taking me out, hell, I’ll put money on the opposite! I bet you both end up on stretchers when this match is over. Scott and I will be walking to the back asking for the Imperial Tag Title shot on night three!
Turning to face the camera, Jesse lifts up his head and pierces the camera.
Jesse Jamester: For all you thinking we are going to interfere in this match with Dane, what are you, dense? We are there as protection. Protection from the likes of people like Alex Turner, who can’t mind his own damn business. People like Bryan Chase, who had to play hero. What are you watching, we have been playing by the book, it’s everyone else who wants to muddy up the honor of this prestigious Double Crown Championship.
Clearing his throat.
Jesse Jamester: Nephilim, I am talking directly to you now. I want you to get real close to the screen, and turn the volume up so you don’t miss this one.
Jesse pauses, holding up fingers until he reaches three.
Jesse Jamester: Alright, now that I have your attention…. Words son, can be useful, when you can back them up. On night one of the Cruiser Cup, I’m going to see how many of your words you chew on while I run the ropes with you Nephilim. All that bitching that we are lackeys, the trap to the plan, it’s what you tell yourself so you feel better when you fail to deliver. Your regurgitating the same excuses I keep hearing week-after-week, and frankly, I thought you would be better… My mistake, gave you the benefit, should’ve listened to Steele. Can’t out run a fucking powerbomb son.
Fixing his collar on his jacket, Jesse flickers a smirk, barely visible through the beard.
Jesse Jamester: Necrophage, it was smart keeping your mouth shut - people hardly believed what your partner said, so wasting more of our time with your blabber was a blessing aye. Stick to your strengths, grab a spatula, and head down to Micky D’s, I hear they’re hiring. Remember boys, this isn’t personal, it’s just business. I call it like I see it.
Flicking the tooth pick out of the scene, Jesse walks off around the corner.
