Post by 💀 ＡＰＯＫ 💀 on Apr 27, 2020 10:39:26 GMT -5
Reality is setting in.
Old guards will fall.
Behold your new god.
Everything you know is wrong.
Reaper could not stop what's coming.
The same goes for Jamo and Jack.
Saints will fail like the rest.
And you will know my true power.
I am everything and you are...
Nothing.
Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks.
Say hello to Apokalypse.
Detroit was a wasteland long before Coronapokalypse. Now it serves as the home of Titans 83, where Apokalypse WILL defeat Robert Saints. Our fates are written in stone and stone cannot be altered.
Robert Saints had the chance to become SFT World Heavyweight Champion and he failed. When the time comes, Apokalypse will NOT fail. He is not a puny mortal like Robert Saints. He is a goliath. He is a warrior. He is a monster. He is everything and Robert Saints is nothing.
The scene today is the same as always: nowhere. Where Apokalypse appears is irrelevant. He is everything.
"I came into this world… broken. I was made whole by the gods and given a purpose. That purpose is devouring this company and rebuilding it in my image. I have spoken nothing but truths and yet I am shunned. Your disbelief is bewildering. Jack Jones. Jamo. Reaper. Three fools who thought their arms were long enough to box with a god. All three fell to my mighty power."
"Next up is Robert Saints, multi-time former Intercontinental Champion. He was so close but so far from becoming World Champion last week. Unfortunately for him… his rebound will also serve as his funeral. Our match is called a Standard Match… but a match involving the almighty Apokalypse is anything but standard. This match will be obviously one-sided and I will break Robert Saints."
"Robert Saints… your mind… your body… your soul… will soon be absorbed by Apokalypse. Your hometown of San Diego will not even miss you when you're gone. It doesn't matter to me that you're a fourth generation wrestler. When I end you… I end the legacy of The Phenom, Skullbreaker and Fat Bozo. I will essentially kill four birds with one stone."
"Robert Saints… it would be best for everyone if Kelly Robinson stayed backstage. In fact, she should just stay home… in the kitchen… where she belongs. She shouldn't see the unspeakably gruesome nature of my work. It's totes adorb that you involve your broad in your work life. Mine won't even appear on camera. She doesn't need to be seen and you certainly don't deserve to feast your eyes on her."
"I find the story of your wrestling debut to be ridiculous. There's no way you won a World Heavyweight Championship in your debut… then held it for a year and a half. If that truly happened… you either worked for a garbage organization… or you one it because of nepotism with your family running things… or both. I'm guessing… both. Fifteen years later… you couldn't even beat Emerson Embry for the SFT World Championship!"
"Our match, as stated, is anything but standard… because I am in it. I see your favorite match type is Extreme Rules. That'a stupid. You're stupid. Rules exist to keep us from spiraling into the abyss. This match of ours absolutely has rules and I would never dream of breaking them. If you dare try to cheat… I will end you quicker than planned. Obey rope breaks. Obey count outs. Obey the referee wholeheartedly."
"Your motivation is to prove to everyone that no one can hold a candle to you here in SFT. I don't understand what that means. Emerson Embry held a torch to you and proved you were not worthy of holding the SFT World Championship. At Titans 83… I will hold a flamethrower to you and undoubtedly prove you are a fraud."
"I have studied your weak moveset: eye poke like a coward, slap like a girl, knife edge chop like a noob, dropkick to the naval, big boot which is only size seven, Irish Whip into the ropes like everyone else day one, DDT like a backyard wrestler, Headlock Takedown with weak arms, Sleeper Hold when you forget your spots, Spinebuster but sloppy. Your arsenal is weak and I will crush you. I have the antidote for a Viper Cutter. I don't believe in Saints Row. And I've already been Straight to Hell… and I came back because it was as boring as you."
"And then… for some reason… I have been volunteered to serve as special referee in the main event between Jay Impact and Louis Cypher. I assume that is happening because I am the undisputed contender for the Intercontinental Championship. They will expect me to cost Impact the match to make him look weak when we eventually face off for his title… but I will call that match right down the middle. Impact will look weak against me all on his own, as will Cypher when we face off one day. With a roster so shallow… it's inevitable that our paths will cross… and often."
"I don't even own a referee shirt. They're going to have to cut off the sleeves so my gigantic arms are able to perform the necessary counts. I have no personal problem with Cypher or Impact… yet. If either tries to break the rules… they will be punished by the strongest machine on the planet… Apokalypse. Punishment isn't something I dish out all willy nilly. One must truly deserve to be punished."
"Do you deserve my punishment, Robert Saints? What have you done to feel my unfiltered wrath? We'll find out at Titans 83. That's where I will---"
Before he can finish that brave statement, a woman walks onto the set but we cannot see her face.
"Are you almost finished? We have to get going. These grocery boxes won't deliver themselves to the homeless."
"Babe! I'm doing a video for SFT!"
"Oh. That again. You know that place is a waste of your time. Why do you do it?"
"Because those titles deserve better. They deserve… Apokalypse."
"And once you win them all… then what?"
"Then we're going to Disneyworld!"
"If it's even open by then. You told me you'd win all of the belts within six months. Is that still the plan?"
"Yes. I've got a guaranteed match against Jay Impact coming up sometime. Then I just have to knock off Rumpke and Emerson Embry… or whomever the champions are by then."
"This whole thing is silly. We've got so much on our plates right now with the deliveries… the gym… our other bookings. At some point… you'll have to cut the dead weight."
"Are you calling SFT dead weight?!"
"Of course."
"It's been around for over two decades! Everyone who is anyone has wrestled here! Now the almighty Apokalypse is going to---"
"Save it for the camera. And make sure to edit me out."
"You got it, babe."
She walks off set and Apokalypse gives a cheeky wink to the camera.
"Robert Saints… I just realized another inarguable way I am better than you. MY wife is WAY better than YOUR wife! Brains! Beauty! Braun! She's the total package. She's everything and your wife is nothing. Is this getting too personal for you? Good. Let's dig deeper."
"I don't know anything at all about my grandfather or great-grandfather… but MY father could kick all of your relatives' asses! He, too, was a LEGENDARY pro wrestler! He didn't care much for titles, though he won his fair share. What mattered most to him was leaving a lasting impression. He impacted this business in more ways than we'll ever know."
"Your dad? His dad? His dad's dad? They're all a bunch of PHONIES! Big fat phonies! Then they passed all of their worst qualities down to you, Robert Saints. Your gene pool needs to be drained… and I'm just the right pool boy for the job!"
"Hot damn! That was such good shit! Robert Saints is down for the count long before our match even happens! His hopes and dreams of being SFT World Champion will be extinguished by the man made monster Apokalypse! Good night and good riddance!"
Apokalypse is done with you... for now...
Old guards will fall.
Behold your new god.
Everything you know is wrong.
Reaper could not stop what's coming.
The same goes for Jamo and Jack.
Saints will fail like the rest.
And you will know my true power.
I am everything and you are...
Nothing.
Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks.
Say hello to Apokalypse.
Detroit was a wasteland long before Coronapokalypse. Now it serves as the home of Titans 83, where Apokalypse WILL defeat Robert Saints. Our fates are written in stone and stone cannot be altered.
Robert Saints had the chance to become SFT World Heavyweight Champion and he failed. When the time comes, Apokalypse will NOT fail. He is not a puny mortal like Robert Saints. He is a goliath. He is a warrior. He is a monster. He is everything and Robert Saints is nothing.
The scene today is the same as always: nowhere. Where Apokalypse appears is irrelevant. He is everything.
"I came into this world… broken. I was made whole by the gods and given a purpose. That purpose is devouring this company and rebuilding it in my image. I have spoken nothing but truths and yet I am shunned. Your disbelief is bewildering. Jack Jones. Jamo. Reaper. Three fools who thought their arms were long enough to box with a god. All three fell to my mighty power."
"Next up is Robert Saints, multi-time former Intercontinental Champion. He was so close but so far from becoming World Champion last week. Unfortunately for him… his rebound will also serve as his funeral. Our match is called a Standard Match… but a match involving the almighty Apokalypse is anything but standard. This match will be obviously one-sided and I will break Robert Saints."
"Robert Saints… your mind… your body… your soul… will soon be absorbed by Apokalypse. Your hometown of San Diego will not even miss you when you're gone. It doesn't matter to me that you're a fourth generation wrestler. When I end you… I end the legacy of The Phenom, Skullbreaker and Fat Bozo. I will essentially kill four birds with one stone."
"Robert Saints… it would be best for everyone if Kelly Robinson stayed backstage. In fact, she should just stay home… in the kitchen… where she belongs. She shouldn't see the unspeakably gruesome nature of my work. It's totes adorb that you involve your broad in your work life. Mine won't even appear on camera. She doesn't need to be seen and you certainly don't deserve to feast your eyes on her."
"I find the story of your wrestling debut to be ridiculous. There's no way you won a World Heavyweight Championship in your debut… then held it for a year and a half. If that truly happened… you either worked for a garbage organization… or you one it because of nepotism with your family running things… or both. I'm guessing… both. Fifteen years later… you couldn't even beat Emerson Embry for the SFT World Championship!"
"Our match, as stated, is anything but standard… because I am in it. I see your favorite match type is Extreme Rules. That'a stupid. You're stupid. Rules exist to keep us from spiraling into the abyss. This match of ours absolutely has rules and I would never dream of breaking them. If you dare try to cheat… I will end you quicker than planned. Obey rope breaks. Obey count outs. Obey the referee wholeheartedly."
"Your motivation is to prove to everyone that no one can hold a candle to you here in SFT. I don't understand what that means. Emerson Embry held a torch to you and proved you were not worthy of holding the SFT World Championship. At Titans 83… I will hold a flamethrower to you and undoubtedly prove you are a fraud."
"I have studied your weak moveset: eye poke like a coward, slap like a girl, knife edge chop like a noob, dropkick to the naval, big boot which is only size seven, Irish Whip into the ropes like everyone else day one, DDT like a backyard wrestler, Headlock Takedown with weak arms, Sleeper Hold when you forget your spots, Spinebuster but sloppy. Your arsenal is weak and I will crush you. I have the antidote for a Viper Cutter. I don't believe in Saints Row. And I've already been Straight to Hell… and I came back because it was as boring as you."
"And then… for some reason… I have been volunteered to serve as special referee in the main event between Jay Impact and Louis Cypher. I assume that is happening because I am the undisputed contender for the Intercontinental Championship. They will expect me to cost Impact the match to make him look weak when we eventually face off for his title… but I will call that match right down the middle. Impact will look weak against me all on his own, as will Cypher when we face off one day. With a roster so shallow… it's inevitable that our paths will cross… and often."
"I don't even own a referee shirt. They're going to have to cut off the sleeves so my gigantic arms are able to perform the necessary counts. I have no personal problem with Cypher or Impact… yet. If either tries to break the rules… they will be punished by the strongest machine on the planet… Apokalypse. Punishment isn't something I dish out all willy nilly. One must truly deserve to be punished."
"Do you deserve my punishment, Robert Saints? What have you done to feel my unfiltered wrath? We'll find out at Titans 83. That's where I will---"
Before he can finish that brave statement, a woman walks onto the set but we cannot see her face.
"Are you almost finished? We have to get going. These grocery boxes won't deliver themselves to the homeless."
"Babe! I'm doing a video for SFT!"
"Oh. That again. You know that place is a waste of your time. Why do you do it?"
"Because those titles deserve better. They deserve… Apokalypse."
"And once you win them all… then what?"
"Then we're going to Disneyworld!"
"If it's even open by then. You told me you'd win all of the belts within six months. Is that still the plan?"
"Yes. I've got a guaranteed match against Jay Impact coming up sometime. Then I just have to knock off Rumpke and Emerson Embry… or whomever the champions are by then."
"This whole thing is silly. We've got so much on our plates right now with the deliveries… the gym… our other bookings. At some point… you'll have to cut the dead weight."
"Are you calling SFT dead weight?!"
"Of course."
"It's been around for over two decades! Everyone who is anyone has wrestled here! Now the almighty Apokalypse is going to---"
"Save it for the camera. And make sure to edit me out."
"You got it, babe."
She walks off set and Apokalypse gives a cheeky wink to the camera.
"Robert Saints… I just realized another inarguable way I am better than you. MY wife is WAY better than YOUR wife! Brains! Beauty! Braun! She's the total package. She's everything and your wife is nothing. Is this getting too personal for you? Good. Let's dig deeper."
"I don't know anything at all about my grandfather or great-grandfather… but MY father could kick all of your relatives' asses! He, too, was a LEGENDARY pro wrestler! He didn't care much for titles, though he won his fair share. What mattered most to him was leaving a lasting impression. He impacted this business in more ways than we'll ever know."
"Your dad? His dad? His dad's dad? They're all a bunch of PHONIES! Big fat phonies! Then they passed all of their worst qualities down to you, Robert Saints. Your gene pool needs to be drained… and I'm just the right pool boy for the job!"
"Hot damn! That was such good shit! Robert Saints is down for the count long before our match even happens! His hopes and dreams of being SFT World Champion will be extinguished by the man made monster Apokalypse! Good night and good riddance!"
Apokalypse is done with you... for now...
"Once we start believing that the Apokalypse is coming, the amygdala goes on high alert, filtering out most anything that says otherwise."
-Peter Diamandis
-Peter Diamandis
