Post by Gentleman George on Oct 15, 2024 12:06:17 GMT
The scene opens in an elegant study, bathed in warm light from a crackling fireplace. Gentleman George Thompson stands tall, dressed in a finely tailored suit, exuding calm authority. Lady Victoria Winchester stands beside him, poised and dignified. George turns to the camera with a composed, self-assured expression, his voice smooth but laced with arrogance.
George: “Ah, the Commonwealth Heavyweight Championship. A title of great prestige, one I intend to claim as my own. On October 19th, in Jamaica, I will enter the ring with two men who, frankly, should already understand their place beneath me—Barry Bridges and Half-Nelson McGrath.”
George adjusts his cuffs, his every movement deliberate and refined.
George: “Let’s begin with Barry Bridges, shall we? The former champion, the man clinging to the past like it’s still his moment. Barry, you’ve had your time. I don’t deny that. But time, you see, is no longer on your side. You are a relic, a fading memory of a bygone era. Our last encounter was marred by officiating incompetence, but the result was clear to anyone paying attention: you couldn’t keep up with me then, and you certainly won’t be able to now.”
He smirks, his voice dripping with condescension.
George: “And then there’s Half-Nelson McGrath. Australia’s so-called rising star. Young, powerful, and full of grit. Admirable qualities, I suppose. But, McGrath, this is not the Queensland Open Poundage Cup. This is the Commonwealth Heavyweight Championship, and your brawling style, while impressive against lesser opponents, will not serve you here. You may have strength, but you lack the refinement, the precision that I possess. In our match, you’ll learn that brute force is no substitute for technical brilliance.”
Lady Victoria steps forward, her voice as polished as ever.
Lady Victoria: “Barry and McGrath, you both fail to realize that this match isn’t about the past or raw strength—it’s about the future of wrestling. And George Thompson is the embodiment of that future.”
George nods, his gaze steady, exuding quiet confidence.
George: “Indeed. This Triangular Match may be seen as competitive, but make no mistake—there is only one inevitable outcome. I will dismantle you both, not with brute force, but with elegance, with superiority. Barry, your nostalgia won’t save you. McGrath, your strength will falter. And when the match is over, I will be crowned Commonwealth Heavyweight Champion.”
He pauses, offering a final, cold smile.
George: “October 19th will mark the end of your delusions and the beginning of my reign. Prepare yourselves, gentlemen. I certainly am.”
The scene fades to black, leaving George’s confident gaze lingering as the fire crackles behind him.
George: “Ah, the Commonwealth Heavyweight Championship. A title of great prestige, one I intend to claim as my own. On October 19th, in Jamaica, I will enter the ring with two men who, frankly, should already understand their place beneath me—Barry Bridges and Half-Nelson McGrath.”
George adjusts his cuffs, his every movement deliberate and refined.
George: “Let’s begin with Barry Bridges, shall we? The former champion, the man clinging to the past like it’s still his moment. Barry, you’ve had your time. I don’t deny that. But time, you see, is no longer on your side. You are a relic, a fading memory of a bygone era. Our last encounter was marred by officiating incompetence, but the result was clear to anyone paying attention: you couldn’t keep up with me then, and you certainly won’t be able to now.”
He smirks, his voice dripping with condescension.
George: “And then there’s Half-Nelson McGrath. Australia’s so-called rising star. Young, powerful, and full of grit. Admirable qualities, I suppose. But, McGrath, this is not the Queensland Open Poundage Cup. This is the Commonwealth Heavyweight Championship, and your brawling style, while impressive against lesser opponents, will not serve you here. You may have strength, but you lack the refinement, the precision that I possess. In our match, you’ll learn that brute force is no substitute for technical brilliance.”
Lady Victoria steps forward, her voice as polished as ever.
Lady Victoria: “Barry and McGrath, you both fail to realize that this match isn’t about the past or raw strength—it’s about the future of wrestling. And George Thompson is the embodiment of that future.”
George nods, his gaze steady, exuding quiet confidence.
George: “Indeed. This Triangular Match may be seen as competitive, but make no mistake—there is only one inevitable outcome. I will dismantle you both, not with brute force, but with elegance, with superiority. Barry, your nostalgia won’t save you. McGrath, your strength will falter. And when the match is over, I will be crowned Commonwealth Heavyweight Champion.”
He pauses, offering a final, cold smile.
George: “October 19th will mark the end of your delusions and the beginning of my reign. Prepare yourselves, gentlemen. I certainly am.”
The scene fades to black, leaving George’s confident gaze lingering as the fire crackles behind him.