Post by The VNB on May 24, 2007 11:25:08 GMT -5
We're taken deep into The VNB Compound, Back to the familiar throne room where Jihad "The Devil" Sullivan has spent a good amount of time watching his huge wall full of monitors, Looking in on The XVI roster and the world.
But today, The throne room is different. The monitors are turned off. The room has been decorated even more lavishly than usual. The room has been transformed, With columns, Ancient artwork, Tapestries, And... To one side of Jihad's Throne, Stands a huge marble statue... You also cant help but notice, That next to the second throne appears to be another statue. But this one, Is covered by a huge white sheet...
It is also very obvious by now, Jihad's throne... Is empty.
The camera pans around the room, Looking for a sign of the man who usually occupies this room. The camera continues to pan, And we see him - and him. Jihad - The man - Stands several feet beside his throne, He is looking up and to his left, Standing proud and smiling.
The camera pans to Jihad's left, And slightly up, And we see a carbon copy of the man - The twelve foot statue of Jihad himself, XVI Heavyweight Championship held high over his head, standing over the prone form of Szaban. Jihad then begins to speak...
Jihad ~ Do you see that, Matthew?
Some time ago, I spoke of symbolism. I spoke of what it was like to take something from someone, Whether it be you, Or anyone, Trying to take my career and my life, Or my taking your World Championship.
Take a long, Hard look, Matthew.
Do you see it? Do you?
This statue... This monument... This COLOSSUS... Will be the greatest symbol of achievement in XVI History. The day when the cheat, The fake, The bad joke, Was taken out behind the barn, And a bullet was put in his head. The night that I will became XVI World Heavyweight Champion.
In doing so, Matthew, I will accomplish what no other man has done... What you could not do... I will prove, That I am indeed... The greatest, Ever...
And as much as this statue is a symbol of my greatness, Matthew, It is a symbol of your incompetence. A constant reminder that someone else was able to accomplish what you could not after doing your very best. Face facts Matt, You will never... Be me.
But if this is a sight you do not want to remember, Then your eyes will burn with resentment as you look at me standing across that ring from you at Highway To Hell.
Jihad continues to stand staring at the giant statue for a moment. And then turns and slowly makes he way back to his throne. Once sitting, Jihad then take a remote, Laying to his side, And switch on the many monitors that line the right side of the wall. Then turning back, To face the camera...
Jihad ~ Matthew, It is quite well documented. That over the years I have proven my superior intellect... My superior vision. And now Szaban, I am going to do something very special for you. I now... Am going to give to you, A brief glimpse... Into your very own future. So sit down, This may startle you just a bit...
With a click of the button, The monitors come to life, With a very odd scene. The scene is Avera Medical Center in Sioux Falls South Dakota. Matthew Szaban's mother, Sits in the waiting room. She is obviously very stressed. She switches from pacing to talking on her cell phone. In the middle of the a cell phone conversation, A doctor walks out in scrubs and comes into Ms. Szaban's line of sight. She abruptly ends her call and looks at the Doctor trying to get some sign from him on how her son is. The two sit as the doctor motions to her.
Dr. James ~ Ma'am, Matt is resting comfortably. He doesn't look the best right now; But I think we have at least managed to set all the breaks. He will need some plastic surgery after he heals a bit more. The doctors did some amazing work before we flew him here. Both orbitals were shattered, His nose was, Lacking a better term mush, He sustained a severe skull fracture...I hope he will have full sight and hearing but right now that is all touch and go. He's alive at least...We have that to be thankful for. I would recommend that Matthew step out of the ring for good. He's damn lucky that he didn't die. If the medics at the Pay Per View wouldn't have controlled the brain swelling, Well I shudder to think of what would have happened. Ms. Szaban, To be blunt... It was like he was plowed over by a truck.
Ms. Szaban ~ Can I see him?
Dr. James ~ He won't know you are in there; But I think you should see him. Sit with him and talk to him. He'll come out of the anesthesia fully by morning. We'll have to schedule plastic surgery a couple months down the road and we'll need to do many tests to see how his memory and motor functions are. We'll want an eye test and hearing test as well. But please...go and see him.
The Doctor then walks away as Ms. Szaban drops her head into her hands and sobs quietly. And on that somber note, The transmission ends.
And we are then once again taken back to the throne room. And there sits Jihad on his throne, The biggest smirk on his face ever. After a moment, He once again begins to speak...
Jihad ~ So Matthew, What do you think of that? Pretty good resemblance don't you think? But anyway, I think you get the point. So anyway, Matthew, You are good son I am sure, Do you really want to put your mother through all that hell? Hell Matt, If the referee doesn't stop the massacre in time. Well... Let us just say, I most certainly hope you have made a living will. I mean, It would be awfully grim to make your mother decide rather or not if they should pull the plug or not on your brain dead ass...
Or... Perhaps, Perhaps you had no plans at all, Of even telling your family about this match? Maybe you did not want them to know. That very soon, You will be putting you career, Your livelihood, Your very life on the line against myself.
But know this my friend, Being the great man that I am. I took the liberty of mailing your mother 10 front row tickets to Highway To Hell! That way, Your whole damn family, Can come and bid a fond farewell to their Son, Brother, And friend. Hell, If they are lucky. When I take my fist, And repeatedly slam it into your face. Maybe the blood squirting from your nose, Will shoot out over the top ring rope, And drench the entire first row of the arena! My oh my! What a grand souvenir that would be, Don't you think?
Ill just put it like this... Matthew, Don't do it... It just isn't worth it.
Now, Jihad once again stands, And slowly begins making his way down the steps leading up to the grand stage that his thrown sits upon. As he walks, Jihad once again begins to speak...
Jihad ~ And it would seems a though The Champion has also gone into hiding.
A grim realization, perhaps?
Perhaps he has finally attained the knowledge that he fought so hard to push away? He finally learned that which he tried so hard to keep from his conscious mind all this time?
The dream is over, Szaban.
Soon, Your Title belt will belong to me, And this match will forever be known to you as "The one that got away".
Yes Matthew, You can never quite become the hero you long to be. Sure, You are known for taking your stand against The VNB. But until you can actually say that you knocked me off, People will always see you as the one who fought with Jihad, And simply lost, Like all the others before you. Sadly for you, You will never truly attain the status you have so longed for.
And just when you think you have fallen as far back down the mountain as you possibly could, Along will come the opportunity for redemption. The last chance you may ever have to attain that elusive goal, To see your ultimate dream come true, To finally become the hero you have always longed to be...
... and then I reach out and crush those dreams like a tiny insect beneath my boot.
This is not redemption, Matthew, No matter what God you may believe in. This is punishment, Pure and simple. This is "The Devil" displaying to all what a true Champion is made of, Destroying any and all challengers to his throne that appear in his path.
This is Jihad, Driving you to the canvas with The Holy War. The impact of your head and neck snapping onto the canvas like a bright light suddenly being turned on in your face after a deep slumber, Waking you...
... and ending any dream that you may have been having...
... beginning the nightmare...
... sending you back to reality...
In reality, Matthew, You do not have the skill, Nor the brains to defeat me. I will bend you to my will, Forcing you into obedience.
And just when you think you cannot fall back down the mountain any further, Along comes me...
... and buries you six feet under.
Sweet dreams Hero...
The camera fades to black as you see Jihad look over his shoulder, Once again staring at his giant colossus, With a large smile on his face...
End Scene...
But today, The throne room is different. The monitors are turned off. The room has been decorated even more lavishly than usual. The room has been transformed, With columns, Ancient artwork, Tapestries, And... To one side of Jihad's Throne, Stands a huge marble statue... You also cant help but notice, That next to the second throne appears to be another statue. But this one, Is covered by a huge white sheet...
It is also very obvious by now, Jihad's throne... Is empty.
The camera pans around the room, Looking for a sign of the man who usually occupies this room. The camera continues to pan, And we see him - and him. Jihad - The man - Stands several feet beside his throne, He is looking up and to his left, Standing proud and smiling.
The camera pans to Jihad's left, And slightly up, And we see a carbon copy of the man - The twelve foot statue of Jihad himself, XVI Heavyweight Championship held high over his head, standing over the prone form of Szaban. Jihad then begins to speak...
Jihad ~ Do you see that, Matthew?
Some time ago, I spoke of symbolism. I spoke of what it was like to take something from someone, Whether it be you, Or anyone, Trying to take my career and my life, Or my taking your World Championship.
Take a long, Hard look, Matthew.
Do you see it? Do you?
This statue... This monument... This COLOSSUS... Will be the greatest symbol of achievement in XVI History. The day when the cheat, The fake, The bad joke, Was taken out behind the barn, And a bullet was put in his head. The night that I will became XVI World Heavyweight Champion.
In doing so, Matthew, I will accomplish what no other man has done... What you could not do... I will prove, That I am indeed... The greatest, Ever...
And as much as this statue is a symbol of my greatness, Matthew, It is a symbol of your incompetence. A constant reminder that someone else was able to accomplish what you could not after doing your very best. Face facts Matt, You will never... Be me.
But if this is a sight you do not want to remember, Then your eyes will burn with resentment as you look at me standing across that ring from you at Highway To Hell.
Jihad continues to stand staring at the giant statue for a moment. And then turns and slowly makes he way back to his throne. Once sitting, Jihad then take a remote, Laying to his side, And switch on the many monitors that line the right side of the wall. Then turning back, To face the camera...
Jihad ~ Matthew, It is quite well documented. That over the years I have proven my superior intellect... My superior vision. And now Szaban, I am going to do something very special for you. I now... Am going to give to you, A brief glimpse... Into your very own future. So sit down, This may startle you just a bit...
With a click of the button, The monitors come to life, With a very odd scene. The scene is Avera Medical Center in Sioux Falls South Dakota. Matthew Szaban's mother, Sits in the waiting room. She is obviously very stressed. She switches from pacing to talking on her cell phone. In the middle of the a cell phone conversation, A doctor walks out in scrubs and comes into Ms. Szaban's line of sight. She abruptly ends her call and looks at the Doctor trying to get some sign from him on how her son is. The two sit as the doctor motions to her.
Dr. James ~ Ma'am, Matt is resting comfortably. He doesn't look the best right now; But I think we have at least managed to set all the breaks. He will need some plastic surgery after he heals a bit more. The doctors did some amazing work before we flew him here. Both orbitals were shattered, His nose was, Lacking a better term mush, He sustained a severe skull fracture...I hope he will have full sight and hearing but right now that is all touch and go. He's alive at least...We have that to be thankful for. I would recommend that Matthew step out of the ring for good. He's damn lucky that he didn't die. If the medics at the Pay Per View wouldn't have controlled the brain swelling, Well I shudder to think of what would have happened. Ms. Szaban, To be blunt... It was like he was plowed over by a truck.
Ms. Szaban ~ Can I see him?
Dr. James ~ He won't know you are in there; But I think you should see him. Sit with him and talk to him. He'll come out of the anesthesia fully by morning. We'll have to schedule plastic surgery a couple months down the road and we'll need to do many tests to see how his memory and motor functions are. We'll want an eye test and hearing test as well. But please...go and see him.
The Doctor then walks away as Ms. Szaban drops her head into her hands and sobs quietly. And on that somber note, The transmission ends.
And we are then once again taken back to the throne room. And there sits Jihad on his throne, The biggest smirk on his face ever. After a moment, He once again begins to speak...
Jihad ~ So Matthew, What do you think of that? Pretty good resemblance don't you think? But anyway, I think you get the point. So anyway, Matthew, You are good son I am sure, Do you really want to put your mother through all that hell? Hell Matt, If the referee doesn't stop the massacre in time. Well... Let us just say, I most certainly hope you have made a living will. I mean, It would be awfully grim to make your mother decide rather or not if they should pull the plug or not on your brain dead ass...
Or... Perhaps, Perhaps you had no plans at all, Of even telling your family about this match? Maybe you did not want them to know. That very soon, You will be putting you career, Your livelihood, Your very life on the line against myself.
But know this my friend, Being the great man that I am. I took the liberty of mailing your mother 10 front row tickets to Highway To Hell! That way, Your whole damn family, Can come and bid a fond farewell to their Son, Brother, And friend. Hell, If they are lucky. When I take my fist, And repeatedly slam it into your face. Maybe the blood squirting from your nose, Will shoot out over the top ring rope, And drench the entire first row of the arena! My oh my! What a grand souvenir that would be, Don't you think?
Ill just put it like this... Matthew, Don't do it... It just isn't worth it.
Now, Jihad once again stands, And slowly begins making his way down the steps leading up to the grand stage that his thrown sits upon. As he walks, Jihad once again begins to speak...
Jihad ~ And it would seems a though The Champion has also gone into hiding.
A grim realization, perhaps?
Perhaps he has finally attained the knowledge that he fought so hard to push away? He finally learned that which he tried so hard to keep from his conscious mind all this time?
The dream is over, Szaban.
Soon, Your Title belt will belong to me, And this match will forever be known to you as "The one that got away".
Yes Matthew, You can never quite become the hero you long to be. Sure, You are known for taking your stand against The VNB. But until you can actually say that you knocked me off, People will always see you as the one who fought with Jihad, And simply lost, Like all the others before you. Sadly for you, You will never truly attain the status you have so longed for.
And just when you think you have fallen as far back down the mountain as you possibly could, Along will come the opportunity for redemption. The last chance you may ever have to attain that elusive goal, To see your ultimate dream come true, To finally become the hero you have always longed to be...
... and then I reach out and crush those dreams like a tiny insect beneath my boot.
This is not redemption, Matthew, No matter what God you may believe in. This is punishment, Pure and simple. This is "The Devil" displaying to all what a true Champion is made of, Destroying any and all challengers to his throne that appear in his path.
This is Jihad, Driving you to the canvas with The Holy War. The impact of your head and neck snapping onto the canvas like a bright light suddenly being turned on in your face after a deep slumber, Waking you...
... and ending any dream that you may have been having...
... beginning the nightmare...
... sending you back to reality...
In reality, Matthew, You do not have the skill, Nor the brains to defeat me. I will bend you to my will, Forcing you into obedience.
And just when you think you cannot fall back down the mountain any further, Along comes me...
... and buries you six feet under.
Sweet dreams Hero...
The camera fades to black as you see Jihad look over his shoulder, Once again staring at his giant colossus, With a large smile on his face...
End Scene...
