GreggG
Moderator
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 810
- Points
- 18
(CUT TO: A crackling fireplace. The camera zooms out to show a plaid rug which is the base of three pieces of high-backed leather chairs. On the right, legs crossed with tented fingers, is JJ DEVILLE. On the left, slouched backwards, bandage on his head, is DORCHESTER STRATTON, with Veronica Abrams Rumsfeld behind him, right hand on his left shoulder. In the middle chair, arms resting throne-like, is BLAINE HOLLYWOOD.)
BLAINE: "Opportunities of a lifetime are rare in the lifetimes of churls such as yourself. But when you are born with blood that literally runs blue -- WHEN YOU ARE AN OXONIAN -- you are presented with major life choices on a near hourly basis. I live and lead a life of importance and status which NONE of you will ever know. A few weeks ago, I, Blaine Hollywood, was presented with a CHOICE. I could stay under the lead of (eye roll) Calvin Cartlon and continue as the crown jewel in his fading Dynasty. I could continue to do the bidding of a man more concerned with holding a trump card over his unwashed sister rather than helping myself, born and bred to be the best, or I could seek another course. That course would be to align myself with these men and lovely woman by my side today. I've already been aligned with Dorchester and Veronica here for several months. I've also done battle against Dorchester. Dorchester, the air between us has NEVER been cleared... but it is indeed RARIFIED air. The scalps that you have dangled from your Saville Row-crafted leather belt MAKE you an impressive man. They make you... one of the FEW men alive whom I consider an equal."
(Dorchester smirks and tilts his head.)
BLAINE: "And, of course, your lovely mistress Veronica. Veronica, as the person who was the GENESIS of our formation, I also salute you. You are a woman of a background similar to me -- a member of private clubs, a woman who grew up on an estate and not a mere house, a woman who knows what exactly to wear after Labor Day and the types of shoes which best weather a Nantucket storm. Your leadership in our Hellfire Club means that our dominance shall soon become sealed... and it will be ETERNAL."
(Rumsfeld tilts her head.)
BLAINE: "And this brings me to you, JJ. You and I had no interactions for most of your tenure here in New Frontier Wrestling. I stayed away from the dealings of The Windham Clan but I did admire from afar your machinations, how you are one of the few with the ability to pull himself up from his bootstraps to manipulate others, how you treated this roster like the pieces of thrift-store furniture they are. You properly read my DISSATISFACTION with The Dynasty and, more importantly, you read my talents. You know that I am a man of UNMATCHED capabilities in the squared circle which are flat-out LETHAL when combined with my prestigious education and devious acumen. JJ, you are a man who is willing to cut the throats of those who groomed you in order to move ahead in the food chain. You are a man, like myself, who truly believes in survival of the fittest. You left your life not in the hands of that nouveau-rich trash Troy Windham and decided to forge your OWN destiny. As such, you are one of the few people in my life who I look at as a peer... as an equal."
(JJ tilts his head.)
BLAINE: "This, CHURLS, is THE HELLFIRE CLUB. Three men and one woman bent on making you cave to our will. Our mission, as previously stated, is simple. We want to dominate and control New Frontier Wrestling. And our way to do so is to have every title in this promotion under our possession. To us, Rook Black's so-called Tri-Force belt is the same as Jack Bryant's TV title is the same as the Everett Memorial Tag Team Championship belt, titles that *I* made famous across the globe, is the same as the NFW World Title held by Castor V. Stryfe. Gold is a color of which I am familiar, as the ladder climbing the waterslide in my childhood pool was FORGED with gold bricks. I am the greatest tag team wrestler of all-time. I am also the RIGHTFUL claimant of the Ultratitle, a championship I had RIPPED from my clutches unfairly and unjustly due to Calvin Carlton's gross incompetence. All of your championships *WILL* belong to us. But the best part is..." (evil chuckles all around) "You do not know the direction of which the point of our EPEE SWORD shall strike! Do what thou wilt, NFW... but there is NOTHING that will stop you from turning into ash by THE HELLFIRE CLUB!"
(All four hold up their three fingers. FTB.)
BLAINE: "Opportunities of a lifetime are rare in the lifetimes of churls such as yourself. But when you are born with blood that literally runs blue -- WHEN YOU ARE AN OXONIAN -- you are presented with major life choices on a near hourly basis. I live and lead a life of importance and status which NONE of you will ever know. A few weeks ago, I, Blaine Hollywood, was presented with a CHOICE. I could stay under the lead of (eye roll) Calvin Cartlon and continue as the crown jewel in his fading Dynasty. I could continue to do the bidding of a man more concerned with holding a trump card over his unwashed sister rather than helping myself, born and bred to be the best, or I could seek another course. That course would be to align myself with these men and lovely woman by my side today. I've already been aligned with Dorchester and Veronica here for several months. I've also done battle against Dorchester. Dorchester, the air between us has NEVER been cleared... but it is indeed RARIFIED air. The scalps that you have dangled from your Saville Row-crafted leather belt MAKE you an impressive man. They make you... one of the FEW men alive whom I consider an equal."
(Dorchester smirks and tilts his head.)
BLAINE: "And, of course, your lovely mistress Veronica. Veronica, as the person who was the GENESIS of our formation, I also salute you. You are a woman of a background similar to me -- a member of private clubs, a woman who grew up on an estate and not a mere house, a woman who knows what exactly to wear after Labor Day and the types of shoes which best weather a Nantucket storm. Your leadership in our Hellfire Club means that our dominance shall soon become sealed... and it will be ETERNAL."
(Rumsfeld tilts her head.)
BLAINE: "And this brings me to you, JJ. You and I had no interactions for most of your tenure here in New Frontier Wrestling. I stayed away from the dealings of The Windham Clan but I did admire from afar your machinations, how you are one of the few with the ability to pull himself up from his bootstraps to manipulate others, how you treated this roster like the pieces of thrift-store furniture they are. You properly read my DISSATISFACTION with The Dynasty and, more importantly, you read my talents. You know that I am a man of UNMATCHED capabilities in the squared circle which are flat-out LETHAL when combined with my prestigious education and devious acumen. JJ, you are a man who is willing to cut the throats of those who groomed you in order to move ahead in the food chain. You are a man, like myself, who truly believes in survival of the fittest. You left your life not in the hands of that nouveau-rich trash Troy Windham and decided to forge your OWN destiny. As such, you are one of the few people in my life who I look at as a peer... as an equal."
(JJ tilts his head.)
BLAINE: "This, CHURLS, is THE HELLFIRE CLUB. Three men and one woman bent on making you cave to our will. Our mission, as previously stated, is simple. We want to dominate and control New Frontier Wrestling. And our way to do so is to have every title in this promotion under our possession. To us, Rook Black's so-called Tri-Force belt is the same as Jack Bryant's TV title is the same as the Everett Memorial Tag Team Championship belt, titles that *I* made famous across the globe, is the same as the NFW World Title held by Castor V. Stryfe. Gold is a color of which I am familiar, as the ladder climbing the waterslide in my childhood pool was FORGED with gold bricks. I am the greatest tag team wrestler of all-time. I am also the RIGHTFUL claimant of the Ultratitle, a championship I had RIPPED from my clutches unfairly and unjustly due to Calvin Carlton's gross incompetence. All of your championships *WILL* belong to us. But the best part is..." (evil chuckles all around) "You do not know the direction of which the point of our EPEE SWORD shall strike! Do what thou wilt, NFW... but there is NOTHING that will stop you from turning into ash by THE HELLFIRE CLUB!"
(All four hold up their three fingers. FTB.)