Post by Donovan Basch on Feb 10, 2018 3:51:08 GMT -5
Before we can see anything, all we can hear in the darkness is a hollow metallic impact.
*THUNK*
*THUNK*
*THUNK*
When the scene fades in, we are greeted with the sight of the seat of a metal folding chair, a noticeable dent present in the center.
And still, the pounding continues.
When the camera pulls back, we can finally see what is causing the noise….
Donovan Basch kneels next to the dented chair, continually striking it with the knuckles of his right hand. In the background, we can see row upon row of shelves stretching nearly to the ceiling in what appears to be a warehouse.
Donovan: A rather distinctive sound, don’t you think? The sound of flesh colliding with steel….
It’s a sound that, quite literally, was driven into my skull… by this very chair, at the hands of Julianna DiMaria.
Donovan stands and holds the chair with both hands, scrutinizing it.
Donovan: Notice the dent? To do that, you’d have to swing it with quite a bit of force. Frankly, Julianna, I wouldn’t have guessed that you had it in you.
But when you’re desperate enough, anything is possible.
Donovan swings the chair back and forth, staring down at it almost as if hypnotised.
Donovan: With one mighty swing, you laid me out and ruined what was supposed to be the greatest moment in my career up to this point… me capturing my very first championship.
I was having the match of a lifetime. That’s something that NOBODY can deny, especially not you, DiMaria. The realization that you were about to lose the one thing that you could flaunt in people’s faces, the West Coast Championship, caused to you toss away the last hope you had of earning the respect that you claim to deserve by knocking me out with a steel chair.
Donovan stops for a moment; his anger over the incident readily apparent. His eyes narrow until only the barest hint of the whites can be seen.
Donovan: Replaying that moment afterwards in my mind, the one thing that stood out were your eyes… more importantly, what I saw in them….
His eyes snap open.
Donovan: Fear.
Fear of what losing the championship would bring.
Fear that Pridmore might abandon you once you were no longer a champion.
Fear that every iota of disappointment from Mommy and Daddy was justified.
Fear that you just aren't as good as you think you are.
Donovan stops and grins.
Donovan: I'm here to tell you that, at Hype, by MY hands, all of those fears will become reality.
He holds up the steel chair, cocking it back as if to swing it at the camera.
Donovan: And I won't need to use this to do it….
He whirls around and tosses away the chair, letting it clatter against the nearest wall.
Donovan: No, all I need are these two hands.
He holds up his fists.
Donovan: You see, doing what you did made the decision to grant me a rematch much easier. Although, I do have my suspicions that you tried to do everything in your power to ensure that your championship was not on the line. Initially, your plan worked; it looked as if I would have to work my way back up the ladder of contention.
However…
Donovan crosses over the warehouse floor to a desk covered in paperwork.
Donovan: As you are wont to do, you alienated the very people that govern your career here in West Coast Genesis….
How does that old saying go?
“Don't Cross The Boss”?
You found out the hard way just how true that little chestnut is…
Now, I could have immediately demanded another championship match, but I knew that you would try and weasel your way out of having to defend your title against me again. So, I waited.
But I didn't need to….
He picks up a stack of papers. The masthead is emblazoned with the logo of West Coast Genesis.
Donovan: Mercedes Carter wasn't going to let you get away with such a blatant disregard to either the West Coast Championship or to her authority. So, she granted me my rematch. Then, she went above and beyond by making this match a lumberjack match, with the added caveat concerning cheating.
If you cheat, or if any one of your lumberjacks interferes on your behalf, you'll be stripped of your title. And none of your lap dogs want to risk being shut out of any future title opportunities. Think about that for a minute. That's your only escape plan taken off the table, DiMaria. You can't get counted out, because the lumberjacks will simply toss you back into the ring.
Now, I realize that you had your pick of whom you wanted as far as lumberjacks went….
He stops to laugh softly.
Donovan: Not really. No, I quite imagine that, apart from Pridmore, your choices were next to none. But you did manage to make some…. Interesting choices.
No need for me to waste my breath as to why Pridmore is one of your lackeys. At times, I do believe the boy would throw himself off of a cliff of you told him to.
Jason Hunter? No huge surprise there. He has never been one to mask his intentions on one day holding the West Coast Championship. Perhaps he thinks that participating in this match may benefit him in those efforts. I neither know nor care about his motives, but to give him his due, he does merit some of my attention.
Sela-Rica Lark…. The wild child, the little shard of chaos. Anyone with eyes can tell what her story is… she craves violence for its own sake. If it means taking a loss in order to punish her opponent, she doesn't seem to mind. To her, this is a game. But if she continues to meddle in my business, she may very well not find how I play to her liking.
Donovan smirks.
Donovan: I, on the other hand, had plenty of volunteers looking to take part in this. My wife? That was a logical choice, as I wanted her to be there when I win. She kept me grounded after Ascension, so to have her by my side when I achieve my greatest triumph needs no explanation.
Melina Garrison? We aren't exactly friends, But in you, we share a common thorn in our sides. She tried to offer you advice, and you spat in her face. Ever since then, you've tried to berate her, to no avail. So having her as one of my lumberjacks was almost a foregone conclusion.
Austen Blackwell…. That was a choice that few people expected from me. Some may consider it quid pro quo for Mercedes giving me this match, but that's not how either of us operate. No, in Austen I see a hunger… a hunger to fight, a hunger to excel. So I went with the wild card.
So what's left for you to do?
One thing and one thing only: face me in a fair match. Just don't expect the outcome to be the same as the last time we squared off.
You won't be able to run… you won't be able to cheat… and most importantly, you won't be able to call yourself a champion once that bell sounds and my arm is raised in victory.
So tonight, once you and your paramour have…. enjoyed yourselves, clutch that belt tightly and try to dream of happy thoughts, whilst this small tidbit floats through your mind…
Donovan reaches across the desk to click on an icon sitting on the desktop of a computer occupying the corner of the desk. It begins to play a portion of the song “Broken Dreams” by Shaman’s Harvest:
“All your dreams are just illusion
Based on nothing and confusion
Don't you look behind the curtain
No more time, the end is certain”
He stops the clip.
Donovan: Broken dreams are the foundation of nightmares, Julianna….
Welcome to yours.
He stands up and walks away. The camera zooms in on the papers left on the desk to display the words:
“CONTRACT
Juliana DiMaria vs Donovan Basch
REVISED”
Scene fades to black.