OPPRESSED CONFERENCE [AWF #1]
Jun 30, 2020 22:12:01 GMT -5
Post by Admin on Jun 30, 2020 22:12:01 GMT -5
In the middle of the parking lot of the McMahon Arena in Calgary is a little makeshift stage that looks to be made of loading pallets. There's a dusty velvet curtain strung up on what looks like the rusted poles of some old, discarded swing set. The curtain rustles and parts slightly, showing a masked face. His expression isn't really clear but he sounds angry when he speaks as an aside to someone who is clearly behind the curtain with him.
?:
There's nobody here. I thought you were going to invite the press?
Another voice replies to him, speaking in what sounds like Russian. Thankfully, there are handy subtitles on this show that translate it for us.
??:
YA dumal, ty skazal, chto spravish'sya s etim?
(You said you were going to handle that?)
?:
I think I would remember that.
Stepping further through the curtain to reveal his barrel chest that looks like it wants to burst free from the suit he's wearing, the masked man pulls a small Hello Kitty notepad from his pocket and checks the chicken scratch filling the page.
?:
It's not on my list, Slava.
??:
Chert! Itak, seychas my provodim konferentsiyu bez pressy?
(Damn! So now we are doing a conference with no press?)
Sighing, Pyro steps out fully from behind the curtain, revealing himself to be dressed in a very nice black suit with flame details on the cuffs and bottom hem of the jacket.
?:
We'll make do. See, there's a camera here to record us – you seem to have managed that one. I'm sure these inbred, knuckle-dragging...
He checks his notes again.
?:
...Canadians?
He pauses, expecting some heat only to get answered with silence.
??:
Seychas vremya?
(Is it time now?)
Pyro:
No, dummy. Stay back there until I introduce you. Hello, friends. My name is Pyro. I am here tonight to witness history and to make a proclamation…
He pauses again, taking a giant breath.
Pyro:
THE MOMENT OF RECKONING ON YOUR TAG TEAM DIVISION IS HERE! IT WAS FORETOLD LONG AGO THAT A TEAM-
The curtain rustles and there's a grunt that draws his attention for a moment.
Pyro:
Not yet, you idiot.
The curtain flaps a little more wildly but Pyro turns his back on it.
Pyro:
TREMBLE IN AWE AS YOU ARE ABOUT TO WITNESS THE GLORIOUS ARRIVAL OF THE-
The support beams topple, the curtain falling over and completely enveloping Pyro. He falls off the makeshift stage, cursing in a mix of Russian and English. A hulking giant of a man is now revealed, dressed in a black leather trench coat. His bald head gleams in the afternoon sunshine and when he turns, still flailing at the bumblebee buzzing around his head, his eyes go wide inside the black paint that surrounds them.
??:
Hello.
He lifts his hand and waves to the camera. Pyro manages to blunder free from the velvet, glaring daggers up at the monster on stage.
Pyro:
You idiot!
??:
Hello, Calgary. We are here.
He speaks very slowly, taking care to enunciate his words so they're understood through his accent.
??:
We do not need curtains or stages. We do not need fanfare. We will destroy all who stand in our way.
Looking shocked, Pyro climbs back up on stage to join his partner, gesturing to him.
Pyro:
This is Enigma. Together we are The Ring Crew. And those tag team championship belts will be ours.
Enigma:
They will? Oooooo yay! I will call mine George and I will wear it all the time, except in the shower.
Enigma claps and bounces, a sight that is wholly disturbing when he's a very big boy. Pyro facepalms and mutters to himself as the scene mercifully fades out.
