The lights in the arena dim before the all too familiar theme fills the air surrounding the sold out crowd. Two fires erupt from the stage, giving the only light in the arena. The fire seems more pyrotechnical this time around, rather than being simply bonfires being lit, so the smell of burning wood is replaced by the searing hot flames of a controlled burn. From behind the curtain comes sauntering the Mad King of Harts, dragging his title across the ground with his right hand and holding a microphone with the either. Taped on the microphone's four sides are King of Hearts cards, each one with a name written in an undetermined red substance.
AmbROse hOGaN sAvAgE BuLlDOg
A twisted smile can be seen in the dim light caught on film, projected on the titantron for all to see. Owen finally makes it into the ring, the side plate of the title dragged on the ground nearly completely worn away, with the face place and other side plate as fresh as it was the day he pulled the belt from the rafters, save for some blood from the Enlightened One. He raises his mic to his lips as the music fades out.
Owen Hart At Ascendance I was the one who lived up to the name of that so called event and ensured that the world could not ignore the words coming from my mouth. Yet it still feels like I failed at the end of the day to accomplish my true goal. I came here to save this place from falling apart, yet not even a full season into its existence and this place is on the brink of disaster. Hogan was smart to have disappeared before my rise to prominence, for he would not be able to withstand the coming storm.
Owen begins to pace now, his music completely mute as the arena is in a hushed state, they hate this man yet dare not interrupt him. His title is still being dragged on the ground as he paces.
Owen Hart You see, my goal, the driving force behind myself putting pen to paper and joining this league was to take control and save it, with some help. I thought I had found a man I could trust, a man I could rely on when the blood began to spill from the cuts on our bodies as we fought a war. I was foolish to think that a boy such as himself was prepared for this war, family or not. We'll never know if blood is thicker than water because he did not stick around long enough to bleed, but if he decides to crawl back here, whimpering like his namesake, I'll find out once and for all how thick his blood really is.
For the first time since his entrance music began the crowd reacts to the man in the ring, showing their disgust at what he is saying. Owen merely licks his teeth and continues.
Owen Hart The night of my greatest individual achievement was also the night of my greatest failure. I did not truly want this title in my hand, I wanted control and I thought I would need an army to do so. I had a soldier but after Ascendence, I had nothing but myself and a useless trinket. Or so I thought. With Hogan gone, I knew what would happen, this company would dip into chaos until his return. I only added fuel to the fire by refusing to show. If anything were to draw that mindless, talentless leech back it would be his precious champion refusing to dance like a puppet. Yet Hogan did not return, has not return and most likely will not return. I thought my quest would involved slaying the beast known as Hulkamania before I could claim my one true throne and that a worthless piece of metal and leather would mean nothing in the end. I prepared myself to grab Hogan by the throat and squeeze the life out of him, watching his face turn blue until he was only a story to be told and a part of a legacy. My legacy. On the night of my biggest failure, my greatest individual achievement saved my mission. Without Hogan, PWL is open to the taking. Any one animal can claim its place as the alpha male. And this...
Owen raises the PWL World Heavyweight Championship for all to see as he speaks.
Owen Hart ...this right here. This puts me at the top of the food chain. I am the man with the target on his back. The man everyone here wants to defeat to make a name for themselves in this business. I am the man with all of the power in the PWL now. ME! Nothing else compares to the object clamped firmly in my hand and there is not one superstar who can silence me. I have paid for my quest in the blood of my enemies and can lay claim to what is rightfully mine.So I, The King of Harts, declare this a coup d'état and claim ownership of the PWL and all of it's staff effective immediately. The inmates no longer run the asylum, Owen Hart declares martial law. First order of business, DEAN AMBROSE....YOU'RE FI-
[PROMO TO BE CONTINUED BY ???]
DullAmbrose Main Eventer
Posts : 101 Join date : 2014-07-06
Subject: Re: Silence Broken Tue Sep 09, 2014 11:29 am
This is awesome Swedish. I've been a bit lazy with Ambrose, but the quality of this has inspired me. Great work.
Matt Wall Main Eventer
Posts : 159 Join date : 2014-07-09 Age : 35 Location : Saskatchewan, Canada
There is a decisively mixed reaction from the crowd as Owen Hart's microphone is cut off and AC/DC's Back in Black explodes into the arena, the crowd unsure of who is arriving to interrupt the Mad King of Harts' diatribe. When the TitanTron lights up with images of Eric Bischoff and the man emerges staring at his cell phone, the crowd begins to boo loudly. It isn't until Bischoff raises his hand to the crowd to gesture for silence that the booing recedes.
Bischoff then tucks the phone away in a back pocket, pulling a microphone out of his side pocket in the same motion and switching it on. His TitanTron video and music cuts out as he clears his throat into the microphone, and he's wearing a grin a mile wide as he begins to speak.
Eric Bischoff Just who in the Hell do you think you are?
The crowd pops massively as the Assistant General Manager of Impact challenges its World Heavyweight Champion with that single question, but he raises a hand to silence them, pointing directly at Hart as he resumes.
Eric Bischoff Wait, wait, wait. Please don't answer that, Owen. To spare all of our ears from another nonsensical diatribe from your overinflated ego, I'll take care of introductions. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls -- children of all ages -- and all of you kindly people at home, I give you the one, the only, the Mad King of Harts: OWEN. JAMES. HART.
The crowd's reaction couldn't be any different from moments before as they erupt in boos. Bischoff allows Owen to soak it in for a moment as he raises his arms in a shrug, shaking his head and chuckling. Then he brings the microphone back before his face and resumes.
Eric Bischoff It seems, Owen, that the natives are restless. You must be a terrible King, to be so reviled by your people. You'd almost suspect that you ended some beloved man's career ... or, perhaps, that you came out here making demands and threatening men whose legacies far surpass your own.(He pauses a moment as he scratches his head in mock confusion, and then shakes his head.) Terrible or no, you did get one thing right when you branded yourself the Mad King. Hell, you saved us all the effort of pointing out the obvious fact that you are completely insane!
The crowd laughs uproariously as Bischoff insults the World Heavyweight Champion.
Eric Bischoff See, this is what I don't understand, Owen: you're not a stupid man. Sure, you have some faulty wiring up there in that skull of yours, and maybe you've taken a few punches since you signed up with us here. But it's not as if you're intellectually challenged or anything. So tell me, how'd you get it in that oversized head of yours that management had abandoned this place and left it yours for the taking? Did you honestly think that nobody was here to run the show and to keep crazies like yourself in line? The fact is, the Pro Wrestling League has a lot of failsafes in place to make sure psychopaths like you NEVER lead it astray. And one of 'em? You're staring right at him.
Another explosion of cheers as Bischoff descends the ramp, stopping just outside the ring to point at Owen again.
Eric Bischoff But, y'know, when you first appeared tonight -- for the first time in weeks, I might add -- I did give our mutual friend John Laurinaitis a call and the two of us chatted back and forth about how to resolve the little "Crazy guy with the World Heavyweight Championship" problem. He suggested another ladder match like the one at Ascendance, but we all saw how you dealt with Randy Savage and we really can't afford to foot the medical bills of every guy you send to the ER. So together, we've come to the resolution that we're going to pit you against the best this company has to offer, one-on-one, stipulation to-be-decided.
The crowd pops as they hear the news, but Bischoff waves off the cheers as he continues.
Eric Bischoff And to figure out who the best will be, we've come up with a foolproof method borrowed from our predecessor companies.(Bischoff takes a long pause, looking around the arena at the thousands of fans in attendance, and then fixes his eyes right back on Hart. He's grinning again.)It's King of the Ring time!
Another wave of cheers washes over the arena as Bischoff makes the declaration, but nobody is expecting what's next...
The crowd is still raucous after the announcement and Owen is visibly angry at first. Bischoff is playing it up to the crowd, smiling and looking around him at the positive reaction in the arena. Owen drops his mic and holds his title with both hands, looking at it and smiling as he meets eyes with Bischoff. Bischoff looks worried at the deranged look in Owen's eyes as he saunters forward, standing almost nose to nose, before Owen lunges his head forward, as if about to pounce on the assistant GM. Bischoff flinches backwards and brings his hands up to fight and defend himself. Owen starts to chuckle and backs away, going to leave the ring as the crowd boos. Bischoff turns around, talking to one of the ringside attendants, thinking Owen is leaving, he's calling for his music to play again. As Eric turns around though he's met with a sneak attack by Owen. Owen rushes across the ring, title in hand as he smashes the metal of his belt directly into the face of Eric Bischoff. The blow busts Bischoff right open and lays him out on the mat. Owen is chuckling as he leans down, dropping his title onto the ground as he dips his fingers in the blood of the Assistant GM. Owen leans into the microphone on the ground, breathing heavily as he goes to work.
Owen Hart You know, I'm glad it all happened this way. Picking this company off the ground like the garbage it has become is not how I want to take control. Oh no, I want to....earn this company. I want to take down everyone who stands in my way and without Hogan, there was no one. But now, there's you. Make all the decrees you want, set up your little tournament, whether I win or lose in the end does not matter, because you gave me what I always wanted. A new target. My teeth are bared and I accept your initial challenge, but now I have one for you. You and me, I want to see how much pain you can withstand, how long you can last against a monster such as myself. I will toy with you, break you, watch you bleed and. Enjoy. Every. Second. I hope you accept my challenge as I accepted yours, with an open........heart.
As Owen says his final words on this night, he uses his free hand to open the jacket of Eric Bischoff, giving Owen easy access to the man's shirt. Using his blood-covered fingers, Owen draws a heart symbol over where Eric's heart is, laughing faintly into the mic all the while. Once done, Owen grabs his title and makes his way out of the ring, pleased with himself, dragging his title as usual.
[PROMO CLOSED. FEEDBACK WELCOMED.]
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