Post by 💀 ＡＰＯＫ 💀 on May 26, 2020 18:17:48 GMT -5
Apokalypse has been shooting fish in a barrel since he first arrived in SFT… and that’s going to continue as long as he allows it. The fighters in SFT are weak and Apokalypse is mighty. That is the truth. You must not deny it. Right now, Apokalypse is drenched in sweat from lifting heavy things and putting them down in his gym. Then he notices the SFT camera.
Oh. You again. Don’t you ever get tired of following me around? I know I get tired of chasing my own tail, going on and on about how I’m better than everyone in SFT. Let’s do things a little… different. I’m going to tell you more about myself. My hopes and dreams. My deepest, darkest desires. My ultimate weakness that will give Rumpke the advantage in our hardcore war next week at Tuesday Night Titans. Are you ready?
He leans in close and then headbutts the camera.
You’d be a damn fool to believe any word of that! Of course I’m not going to tell Rumpke how to beat me! What do you think I am, as dumb as the doofy dozen here in SFT?! Get your shit together, man! I am the Intercontinental Heavyweight Champion of the World! I will soon enter and conquer the Lethal Lottery Tournament! All your gold will soon be long to me!
He grabs a towel and wipes the blood from his forehead, from his impressive headbutt to the super expensive television camera.
When I came to SFT… I scouted Rumpke. I said all along that he was the only one who was worthy of fighting me. By the time we faced off… I had hoped that it would be for HIS Hardcore Championship… but then a few weeks back… he gave it up with no explanation. Now he walks around like a normie… while I am a big time champion. The roles are reversed from how I thought this would go. I guess it’s for the best. Now Rumpke doesn’t have to live with the embarrassment of losing a title to me. The end result is the same as expected. I just won’t be walking out of Mesa, Arizona with the Hardcore Championship.
Soon enough… that belt will be mine. It is currently around the waist or over the shoulder of Reaper. I don’t know how he carries it. It doesn’t matter. Nothing he does matters. I beat him once… and I can beat him again. Unless he loses it before we face again. I’m getting ahead of myself. My focus is Rumpke. Good old lonely drunkard Rumpke. He recently made his return to SFT by stumbling down to the ring and… I guess… challenging me to a match for Titans 85. What would have been an incredible moment for the thousands in attendance and the millions watching around the world… was ruined by him being a sloppy mess. Now I have another weight on my shoulders: cleaning up after Rumpke. He could have gotten his shit together while taking some time off… but… nope. That didn’t happen.
Instead of coming back better than ever… he drunkenly stumbled down to the ring… down to MY ring… after I dominated Louis Cypher and officially won this championship. I knew exactly why he was there… but he pretended like it was some big mystery. Obviously he wanted to fight me. I’m the best fighter in SFT. What better way to start his comeback tour than to get a crack at the best of the best? While Rumpke thinks it’s the first match of a comeback tour… I know it’s the first and only match of a retirement tour. I’m going to beat Rumpke so bad… that he won’t be able to pull himself up on another bar stool again. He’ll be drinking beers out of a straw once I’m done with him.
Drinking beers? Drinking beer? I don’t know what to call it. I’ve been sober for longer than I can remember. I don’t let anything cloud my judgement or impair my ability to be the best fighter on the planet. Rumpke and I are polar opposites in many ways… but one thing is similar: heart. He has the heart of a fighter… and I have the black heart of a champion. That’s why I am the one with THIS belt… and he cowardly gave up HIS belt. No, I won’t let that rest. He could have gone down in history as the greatest Hardcore Champin in the HISTORY of Hardcore Champions… but he just… meh… tossed it aside and walked away.
Rumpke was defeated by his demons and no longer able to represent SFT as its Hardcore Champion. The same fate will NOT be met by your true ruler… Apokalypse. I’m here to stay… until I decide you’ve had enough. I’m already half way through the doofy dozen. What happens when… there’s nobody left to beat? That will be a sad day for humanity… but it WILL happen. There’s not a soul alive strong enough to defeat me… and Rumpke will fail just as the rest have. Louis Cypher SHOULD have put up the biggest fight… but he ended up being the weakest of them all.
I still think that Jack Jones gave me my biggest fight… and that was my SFT debut match. For only 22 years old… that kid is tough as a two dollar steak. I see a bright future for him… once I’ve destroyed SFT and rebuilt it in my image, of course. There’s a place for Rumpke as well… as a referee. He did a fine job donning the stripes in my match against Robert Saints. I still don’t understand why he was there… but he did okay. I could smell the beer on him and it may have impaired his judgement… but everyone knew I was going to be the winner… so it didn’t matter HOW it happened. That’s the cruel thing about fate. It has already been decided for you and you are powerless to stop it. That goes for this match against Rumpke, of course. I’ve already won… and he is too drunk to realize it.
Rumpke, I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors. I’m sure that once you are destroyed by Apokalypse… you will wander off to the nearest bar to drown your sorrows. My only hope is that you are smart enough to take an Uber to and from that bar. You should not be operating a motor vehicle in an inebriated state. That is both dangerous and illegal. If you find yourself unable to operate the Uber app… give me a call. My number is 555-555-5555. I’ll get you where you need to go… but you’ll probably need to go to a local medical facility instead.
I’m going to beat you, Rumpke. Really… really… badly. You’ll soon regret challenging me to this upcoming match at Titans 85. Of all the mistakes you’ve made in your life… challenging me will be your Mt. Everest. In one week… I will hit you with everything I’ve got and I will not stop until the referee calls for the bell. Whether it is by pinfall… submission… knockout… or stoppage… I WILL be victorious. I will raise this championship high in the air and look forward to dominating the fuck out of the entire Lethal Lottery tournament. I don’t even care what the winner of the tournament is rewarded with. Everything will be mine in due time.
Apokalypse is done with you… for now...
