Post by Lord Blake on Jul 12, 2016 22:16:03 GMT
“There has to be answers here. There simply must be.”
Lord Blake sits in a wingback chair in front of a roaring fire in his fireplace with a clipboard sitting on his lap. He’s wearing a burgundy smoking jacket with a bow tie around his neck while his glasses (Ray-ban sunglasses with the frames popped out) sit halfway down his nose. He takes a sip from the red solo cup that he’s holding like a brandy snifter then shakes his head and “tsk”s to himself. The whole scene looks like somewhere Miles Larsen would be more apt to find himself. Lord rings a tiny bell and calls out for Maid who enters a few seconds later looking drab in a faded pink velour jumpsuit, her hair a rat’s nest.
“Maid, I still need to know what The Ray Suicider was saying to Miles the other day in that clip. How far are we on that?”
Maid blows the hair away from her face and turns to leave the room. “For the last time, I don’t know Spanish either!”
Lord looks annoyed. “In English, por favor. You know I don’t speak Spanish.”
He sighs and looks down his nose at the clipboard. On it are three printed columns, each representing someone in the Vendetta main event with a list of qualities under each. Circles, lines and squiggles in red and black connect different qualities to one another and he’s constantly adding to the mess. He slams a fist on the clipboard in frustration before taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.
“This is insanity. THREE people in one match? They had to invent a new match just to test me and my undefeated streak? How am I supposed to keep an eye on the lucha and Wally at once? I don’t have that kind of focus.”
He shakes his head.
“That’s what I need to do right now: focus on ways to beat them.”
He consults his clipboard.
Confident in his strategy, he holds his cup from the bottom and takes another sip. As he reviews his page however, his eyes widen in realisation.
“But what if Wally recovers quicker than I expect while I'm doing that? I should just knee him really hard in the face too. But… kneeing them both in the face… at the same time? Is that possible? Maybe I should Arthur-Thomas Wally with my knee and put him to sleep then use my technique to try matching up with Zero? No, no. I'll beat Zero with a Silver Bullet and then beat Wally with those tramp-jumping abilities I've been honing.”
Again, he seems optimistic about his plan of attack, but again the feeling is fleeting. He sighs and concentrates back on the sheet.
“This has to be a test to see if I can keep my composure and focus in these high stress situations before they officially move back to the top of the rankings and make me the to contender for the Supreme Championship. I need to make sure I'm covered in all my bases here. So think. What do you have that they don't?"
He begins circling and drawing lines between items.
“Ring smarts. More-so than anyone in this match. What does Wally have that we don't? He cannot physically give up - doesn't know how. And what's Zero got that we don't? Submission skills.”
A light enters his eyes.
“So. Lay low, pick your shots. Eventually Zero will get Wally in one of his stupid pretzel holds. Zero won't let go and Wally won't submit. Neither one knows how. I can simply push them out of the ring for the count out, or serve up a Silver Spoon to both from there.”
He slaps the strategy sheet with the back of his hand and turns to look directly into the camera.
“Sure, it's not quite throwing balls into cups. But I've got the answers I need."
Lord Blake sits in a wingback chair in front of a roaring fire in his fireplace with a clipboard sitting on his lap. He’s wearing a burgundy smoking jacket with a bow tie around his neck while his glasses (Ray-ban sunglasses with the frames popped out) sit halfway down his nose. He takes a sip from the red solo cup that he’s holding like a brandy snifter then shakes his head and “tsk”s to himself. The whole scene looks like somewhere Miles Larsen would be more apt to find himself. Lord rings a tiny bell and calls out for Maid who enters a few seconds later looking drab in a faded pink velour jumpsuit, her hair a rat’s nest.
“Maid, I still need to know what The Ray Suicider was saying to Miles the other day in that clip. How far are we on that?”
Maid blows the hair away from her face and turns to leave the room. “For the last time, I don’t know Spanish either!”
Lord looks annoyed. “In English, por favor. You know I don’t speak Spanish.”
He sighs and looks down his nose at the clipboard. On it are three printed columns, each representing someone in the Vendetta main event with a list of qualities under each. Circles, lines and squiggles in red and black connect different qualities to one another and he’s constantly adding to the mess. He slams a fist on the clipboard in frustration before taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.
“This is insanity. THREE people in one match? They had to invent a new match just to test me and my undefeated streak? How am I supposed to keep an eye on the lucha and Wally at once? I don’t have that kind of focus.”
He shakes his head.
“That’s what I need to do right now: focus on ways to beat them.”
He consults his clipboard.
“Wally will be the most challenging. I mean, he's overtaken me at the top of the RSW rankings. If I can use the grappling skills I picked up when I was really into jujitsu that week and not let him get me into a submission hold I should be fine. But then Zero could walk right over and smack me off. So I need to hit him first and harder to keep him down. He’ll get a knee to the face. Okay.”
Confident in his strategy, he holds his cup from the bottom and takes another sip. As he reviews his page however, his eyes widen in realisation.
“But what if Wally recovers quicker than I expect while I'm doing that? I should just knee him really hard in the face too. But… kneeing them both in the face… at the same time? Is that possible? Maybe I should Arthur-Thomas Wally with my knee and put him to sleep then use my technique to try matching up with Zero? No, no. I'll beat Zero with a Silver Bullet and then beat Wally with those tramp-jumping abilities I've been honing.”
Again, he seems optimistic about his plan of attack, but again the feeling is fleeting. He sighs and concentrates back on the sheet.
“This has to be a test to see if I can keep my composure and focus in these high stress situations before they officially move back to the top of the rankings and make me the to contender for the Supreme Championship. I need to make sure I'm covered in all my bases here. So think. What do you have that they don't?"
He begins circling and drawing lines between items.
“Ring smarts. More-so than anyone in this match. What does Wally have that we don't? He cannot physically give up - doesn't know how. And what's Zero got that we don't? Submission skills.”
A light enters his eyes.
“So. Lay low, pick your shots. Eventually Zero will get Wally in one of his stupid pretzel holds. Zero won't let go and Wally won't submit. Neither one knows how. I can simply push them out of the ring for the count out, or serve up a Silver Spoon to both from there.”
He slaps the strategy sheet with the back of his hand and turns to look directly into the camera.
“Sure, it's not quite throwing balls into cups. But I've got the answers I need."
