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 No Explanation Necessary

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therausch09

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Posts : 34
Join date : 2012-08-22
Age : 31
Location : Philly

PostSubject: No Explanation Necessary   Mon Oct 22, 2012 9:53 pm

Led Zeppelin's "The Ocean" starts to play as the TitanTron begins to show Brock Samson's entrance video, a collection of his most aggressive and explosive maneuvers collected during his inaugural season in ICW. Samson makes his way onto the stage smoking a cigarette in his in-ring gear: cutoff jean shorts, high tube socks with red rings, and vintage black-and-white Chuck Taylors.
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He cockily saunters across the stage to the top of the ramp, where he sneers and tosses his cigarette to the side, seemingly causing a simultaneous pyrotechnic explosion on both sides of the stage. When the flames die, he shrugs his shoulders and casually makes his way to the ring, microphone in hand.
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Samson hops onto the ring apron from the floor, then bends under the top rope before making his way to the center of the mat and bringing the microphone to his mouth.
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Brock Samson: I know what you're thinkin'... 'This guy doesn't talk!' Well, I do when I have something to say.
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And tonight, I've got something to say.
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Some in the crowd cheer, and some boo, thinking back to Samson's questionable actions at Resurrection.
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Brock Samson: It's not so much an explanation as it is a recap. But either way, let's talk about Resurrection.
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Samson gestures toward the Titan-Tron as a video recap of his role in the Resurrection main event begins to air.
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Suddenly, all lights in the arena fall dark, plunging the sold out PPV crowd into complete darkness for a mere second or two before they surge back to life, revealing the presence of Matthew Elderbrook in the middle of the ring. At ringside, Brock Samson - who's been pacing nervously throughout the match since Show replaced him - takes notice of Elderbrook's intrusion and slides into the ring without any second thought.
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Directly across from him, near the ropes, Show is standing, regaining his vision after the lighting hiccup. Behind Show, to Brock's left, Matthew Elderbrook has a dazed Homer held in place in front of a table leaned against the turnbuckle. Elderbrooks has him held by a vicious headlock, smiling at Samson and gesturing toward the unfortunately clumsy wrestler in his clutches, as if to say "Here, hit him. He's all yours."
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Samson clenches his jaw and grits his teeth, his left eyelid twitching furiously. The crowd watches the big man as he looks from combatant to combatant, trying to determine who to side with, who to aid, or who to destroy. Without warning, he lets a primal roar escape from his throat and throws his head and arms backward, letting the whole arena hear his battle cry.
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Samson drops into a three-point stance, indicating a forthcoming charge. He sits on his heels and waits, keeping his eyes dead ahead on Matthew Elderbrook and Homer. Show - looking for an opponent to hurt - steps backward into Samson's line of sight, putting himself in the same range of attack as Elderbrook and Homer. Samson raises his rear off his heels and bolts forward.
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Show - showcasing heightened agility - rolls out of the way of the spear at the same instant Matthew Elderbrook seemingly vanishes into thin air once more. Homer - still dazed and now catching his breath after the headlock - turns just in time to see the Swedish Murder Machine come barreling down on him. Samson tackles Homer through the leaning table, causing Homer to fall with a sick thud to the mat in an unnatural way and causing Samson himself to fall back out of the ring.
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Show looks around in disbelief. A small crew of EMT's rush into the ring area and head straight for Homer. As they attempt to rouse him, the clumsy wrestler is completely unresponsive. One of the EMT's speaks into a radio attached to his shoulder, and just a few seconds later a gurney is being wheeled down the ramp to the ring area. The entire arena pauses to watch as Homer is lifted onto it and slowly wheeled up the ramp. Small pockets of the crowd can be heard chanting "That Guy's Dead! That Guy's Dead!" over and over again in their seats.
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Samson - now standing and clutching his ribs as a trickle of blood leaks from a small cut travelling the width of his massive forehead, seems to be smiling sadistically as the gurney passes him and makes its way to the back. He looks back toward the ring and sees Show staring at him in disbelief. The big blonde merely shakes his head before turning his back on his boss and shambling up the ramp toward the backstage area. In the ring, Show realizes that NCW is now short a competitor and gets back to work.

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The cheers and boos each amplify, the crowd split seemingly down the middle on their opinion of the Swedish Murder Machine. Samson just smiles.
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Brock Samson: Kind of tough to tell what I was going for there, isn't it guys?
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Gotta hand it to ICW's cinematography department... That's some well-cut drama, right there.
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Well, I guess you all want to know what was going through my head, right? I mean, it looks like I was aiming for my boss there. That can't happen.
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But if you look at it from another angle, I'm aiming for Homer, the guy I truly felt bad about beating on all season. That can't happen either?
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So maybe it was the third guy, Matthew Elderbrook, the guy that wanted nothing more than to just wake me up. He was trying to help me, so it couldn't have been him, right?
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So who was it?
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Samson drops the microphone to his hip and lets the crowd react, reveling in their mixture of adoration and vitriol. He waits a moment then returns the device to the vicinity of his mouth.
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Brock Samson: All of 'em.
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The crowd erupts in a wave of boos as the big blonde behemoth in the ring sneers back at them.
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Brock Samson: Not the answer you expected, right? I know, trust me. I felt the same way in the ring that night when the realization swept over me.
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I mean, I was trying so damn hard to be good here. But let me tell you something...
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That Matthew Elderbrook... he convinced me. He brought back the old Brock Samson, Brock Samson the badass, Brock Samson the Killer of Everything that Moves.
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He pauses again to allow the crowd to shower their new found hatred on him, smiling the whole time.
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Brock Samson: Yeah, yeah. Get it out. Get it all out, guys. You really oughta let me have it.
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You see, the old Brock Samson - wait, the rediscovered Brock Samson - couldn't care less what you think about his actions.
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He was - I mean, I am - a killing machine, plain and simple. I operate without motive or bias. At the end of the day, I just bury people.
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I didn't care what the 'story' was or what it would have 'meant' if I put Show through a table instead of Homer; I just wanted to hurt them all.
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If I had my way, I would've put everyone in that match in the ground and been on my way, because that, well... It's what I do.
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He doesn't even have to pull the microphone away from his lips before the crowd tries to verbally jump down his throat with their moans of disapproval.
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Brock Samson: So I leave you all with this: don't get used to seeing your favorites here with all their limbs in the right places. A big ol' Brock Storm is about to tear through that dressing room, and I can guarantee I'm gonna be the only sorry sucker standing when it's all done.
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The big man drops the microphone to the mat and struts back up the ramp to "The Ocean" as ICW's rabid fans try to grab a hold of him as he passes.
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