Post by Keith Williams on Nov 6, 2021 20:29:51 GMT -5
Buzzing. Buzzing. Buzzing.
Flies are buzzing around a rotten, decaying pumpkin. Squishy and leaking its insides everywhere, the once promising fruit is accompanied by a devil makeup wearing Keith Williams. Fake horns affixed to his head, red paint covering his face, and blood sprayed over his white suit, the Great White Terror looks magnificently spooky. It's the first time Keith has been seen on screen not wearing his protective mask.
Keith Williams: "This is it. This is where I use the gift of gab to promote a match, sell tickets, and put butts in seats. This is the grudge match to end all grudge matches. A collision of the NPW roster and The ReVenants. Blood and guts!"
Swatting away a fly that gets too close, Williams grimaces at the mess on the ground.
Keith Williams: "But... I'm just not feeling it. Something is off. I can't tell whether it's me or the shitty teammates JJ has picked. I guess I was expecting variety? A situation that didn't involve Chris Card as guest referee? I don't know."
Shrugging, Keith isn't sure how to express himself.
Keith Williams: "You must be getting lazy, Lizard, because you had an entire locker room to choose from and you chose... The Bastards? Why? Those tag titles around their waists don't prove anything other than they managed to weasel themselves into a convenient position. Do you really think for a solitary second the Bitches are going to have your back when things get tough in that cage? Use your head, Jesse, use your fucking head!"
Tapping the side of his own head, the Great White Terror is demanding logic from his opponent.
Keith Williams: "You've signed your own death certificate, Jamester! Those partners of yours? They're no match for The ReVenants! Jeff Noon, the Mustard Man, has been getting absolutely ripped and vicious, I've witnessed it! Frank Windsor? Rob Riot? Billy Fowler? Some mystery goof? They're not prepared for the weapon we're unleashing."
Jeffrey Noon. Manager of The ReVenants. Likes to wear yellow clothing. Certified bad ass.
Keith Williams: "Rob Garcia, the Hands of the Operation, he's the craziest vato ever and I'm blessed to call him a brother. Neo James Carner, the Rafter Vigilante, he's been begging for a reason to inflict pain and will relish every second of the carnage. Oxford Osland, Double O, making his triumphant NPW return and on the right side of history. We've dominated the tag-team scene in SWAT and Northern Pro Wrestling gets to experience that joy on November 9th."
KW+OO forever.
Keith Williams: "Nothing and no one is going to stop me from laying claim to my throne. Not the Bitches, not Jesse Jamester, not... Lynx. Are you happy sitting at home, ex-champ? The weight of that gold was too much for you, imagine that! What's this world coming to when the former North American Double Crown Champion can't make an appearance? In spite of not holding what should be mine, I continue to be the top draw. I'm the face that people come to see and that's why I'm in the main-event instead of curtain jerking schlubs like Alex Turner. What I do, what I say, matters. That's a tough pill to swallow for some that relentlessly try and can't scratch the surface of what I've done and keep doing every single show. When you're the best, it's hard for all the rest."
Dispensing facts left, right, and center, Williams takes it home.
Keith Williams: "The Great Northern War was designed for men like The ReVenants and when all ten of us enter together... We will show exactly that. Keith Williams, Rob Garcia, Neo James Carner, Oxford Osland, and Jeff Noon are made of stronger stuff than the Bitches, Lizard, and mystery goof. There's only one guarantee, every person will leave that structure changed, some of us for the better, some of us for the worse."
Taking a final glance at the drippy relic of Halloween, KW walks off as the camera zooms in on the pumpkin.
Flies are buzzing around a rotten, decaying pumpkin. Squishy and leaking its insides everywhere, the once promising fruit is accompanied by a devil makeup wearing Keith Williams. Fake horns affixed to his head, red paint covering his face, and blood sprayed over his white suit, the Great White Terror looks magnificently spooky. It's the first time Keith has been seen on screen not wearing his protective mask.
Keith Williams: "This is it. This is where I use the gift of gab to promote a match, sell tickets, and put butts in seats. This is the grudge match to end all grudge matches. A collision of the NPW roster and The ReVenants. Blood and guts!"
Swatting away a fly that gets too close, Williams grimaces at the mess on the ground.
Keith Williams: "But... I'm just not feeling it. Something is off. I can't tell whether it's me or the shitty teammates JJ has picked. I guess I was expecting variety? A situation that didn't involve Chris Card as guest referee? I don't know."
Shrugging, Keith isn't sure how to express himself.
Keith Williams: "You must be getting lazy, Lizard, because you had an entire locker room to choose from and you chose... The Bastards? Why? Those tag titles around their waists don't prove anything other than they managed to weasel themselves into a convenient position. Do you really think for a solitary second the Bitches are going to have your back when things get tough in that cage? Use your head, Jesse, use your fucking head!"
Tapping the side of his own head, the Great White Terror is demanding logic from his opponent.
Keith Williams: "You've signed your own death certificate, Jamester! Those partners of yours? They're no match for The ReVenants! Jeff Noon, the Mustard Man, has been getting absolutely ripped and vicious, I've witnessed it! Frank Windsor? Rob Riot? Billy Fowler? Some mystery goof? They're not prepared for the weapon we're unleashing."
Jeffrey Noon. Manager of The ReVenants. Likes to wear yellow clothing. Certified bad ass.
Keith Williams: "Rob Garcia, the Hands of the Operation, he's the craziest vato ever and I'm blessed to call him a brother. Neo James Carner, the Rafter Vigilante, he's been begging for a reason to inflict pain and will relish every second of the carnage. Oxford Osland, Double O, making his triumphant NPW return and on the right side of history. We've dominated the tag-team scene in SWAT and Northern Pro Wrestling gets to experience that joy on November 9th."
KW+OO forever.
Keith Williams: "Nothing and no one is going to stop me from laying claim to my throne. Not the Bitches, not Jesse Jamester, not... Lynx. Are you happy sitting at home, ex-champ? The weight of that gold was too much for you, imagine that! What's this world coming to when the former North American Double Crown Champion can't make an appearance? In spite of not holding what should be mine, I continue to be the top draw. I'm the face that people come to see and that's why I'm in the main-event instead of curtain jerking schlubs like Alex Turner. What I do, what I say, matters. That's a tough pill to swallow for some that relentlessly try and can't scratch the surface of what I've done and keep doing every single show. When you're the best, it's hard for all the rest."
Dispensing facts left, right, and center, Williams takes it home.
Keith Williams: "The Great Northern War was designed for men like The ReVenants and when all ten of us enter together... We will show exactly that. Keith Williams, Rob Garcia, Neo James Carner, Oxford Osland, and Jeff Noon are made of stronger stuff than the Bitches, Lizard, and mystery goof. There's only one guarantee, every person will leave that structure changed, some of us for the better, some of us for the worse."
Taking a final glance at the drippy relic of Halloween, KW walks off as the camera zooms in on the pumpkin.
