Post by LACKLAN on Jun 15, 2019 1:16:40 GMT -5
*****THE FOLLOWING IS AN XPR-
A white mask with hellish features of strong angles, long braided hair of platinum white above and eyes of emerald in the holes, stares into the camera. It looks left and right slowly, the gaze penetrating the souls of every viewer.
“C'est le Japon?”
A thick French accent. Feminine. She peers for another moment, the mask giving no emotion.
“Intéressant. Continuez, monsieur.”
The mask backs away from the camera, allowing her full form to be seen. Wearing a sleeveless black dress, the train to the floor and featuring only a line of purple along the hem for color, her arms, filled with tight muscles, are covered in scars. On one arm, a line of neat cuts, as if with a scalpel; on the other, they are jagged, as if done by a box cutter. As she moves, we see that we are in a dark room featuring an ornate chair, more throne than anything else. Next to that throne stands a short man with a face pale and clearly unsettled, wearing a suit the colors of banana and lilac suit. Next to him stands a statuesque Asian man in a dark suit, a shock of bright white hair on his head which falls down to his ears, and dark sunglasses on his face despite the darkness of the room. And next to him is a short woman with dark hair dressed in a miko’s kimona, the bright white and pale pink bright in the darkness.
“Well...um...yes, my Majesty.”
The man takes a few deep breaths as LACKLAN glides across the room and gently sits down on the throne. He shakes off his unease and a look of intensity comes over his face.
“Hammerstein! Your days? The are NUMBERED, boy!”
It has been an interesting few days. Whereas before, the Writer informed me that this meeting was not to take place until I become world champion, it seems that things have changed. Upon my doorstep come these three and we grow ever closer to the convergence. This man...this Cunningham…
“...because while YOU have spent all YEAR battling the remnants of The Demon Brigade, who might as well be the Conway and Knotts of Apple Dumpling Gang IDIOTS compare to any TRUE villains, the MOUUUUUNNNNTAAAAAIIIIIN has been doing EVERYTHING I have always SAID he would! He has DOMINATED. He has CRUSHED. He has DESTROYED! All year long, while YOU have been crying over squabbles with half-retired idiots in dumb tiger masks, the ACE of ALL of puroresu has knocked off young lions and veterans right under your NOSE! That is-”
Loud. Brash. Annoying. He and his Xpress Fighting Systems have been somewhat of a bug buzzing in my ears, but now the insect has come to land and bear surprising fruit. A favor of a favor, from what I understand, from the Writer to Mademoiselle London to Monsieur Cunningham. And now this. Within Lacklan Manor itself. His blood.
“...RUMOR has it...rumors spoken by MANY people...that the ONLY reason the board even BAILED out this company was because they were PROMISED that we would UNLEASH the Mountain! They begged! They pleaded! They CRIED for the chance to be represented by a TRUE hero of a man in Nakama! And NOW is their chance!
He speaks little...allows his mouthpiece to do it for him...but his strength! Oh, his STRENGTH! Tall. Thick. Powerful. So much like...like…
“And FURTHERMORE-”
The man in the ugly suit, his face now flushed from the anger of his diatribe into the camera, cuts off as the large man lays a hand the size of a frying pan on his shoulder. The large man stays silent for a moment before speaking into the camera himself.
“Hammerstein.”
His voice. So low. So rough. HIS voice was like that, too. Beautiful and painful all at the same time.
“Silly name. My name? Nakama.”
He lightly touches the woman beside him.
And her! HER! To be here! In this house! In MY house! In HIS house! An honor for all. If...if only...if only Mary could understand how important this is. The convergence!
“Beautiful mother. Raised me in temple. I know honor. Pride. Dominance. But my legacy. ”
The large man takes his hand off the small woman in the kimono and points to his odd hair.
Oh...to have SEEN that hair on HIM…
“My blood. My mission. And now the world knows. My name is Nakama. But my father.”
The man turns his head to look at the woman on the throne. He gives the barest of nods and the woman in the mask returns it. He turns back to the camera.
“Understand what is coming. Understand your demise. My House.”
MY HOUSE
“Is Lacklan.”
A pregnant pause.
“I will give puroresu what it DESERVES.”
What the world DESERVES.
As the camera is shut off and the crew leaves, the large man turns towards the throne. LACKLAN rises to her feet, adjusts her dress, and walks down the three small steps to the floor. She strides forward until she is but a breath away from Nakama, her head at his chest level. She reaches up with her right arm and places her hand on his cheek, gently caressing it.
“La Convergence.”
Keeping her hand on the man’s face, she turns her head towards the woman. In her middle years, the short Asian woman’s face is still smooth, seemingly untouched by worry. LACKLAN gives her a deep bow of her head, and the woman returns the gesture.
“Nori. Please. Rooms are prepared. Let us speak of bringing our beautiful children together.”
She turns back to face Nakama, the energy in her voice in contrast to the never-changing expression on the mask.
“ALL of our beautiful children.”
* * * * * * * * * *
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From: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 9:00 PM
To: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Subject: Matters of irritation
Monsieur Ooley
I wish to discuss a few matters which have begun to irritate me. I expect, and appreciate, our prompt reply.
Votre obéissant,
LACKLAN
Maîtresse du Manoir
---------------------------------
From: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 9:20 PM
To: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Matters of irritation
Madame LACKLAN
Literally not my job. Perhaps I can redirect you to Vines or something?
Votre obéissant,
Robert Ooley
27 Different Jobs, UGWC
---------------------------------
From: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 9:25 PM
To: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Monsieur Ooley
From what I can tell, your literal job is to make up names for people. That being said, the actual hierarchy within the UGWC is muddled, at best, and I have a fear that the people who are in place to handle my issues are wholly incapable of doing more than tying their shoes in the morning. Additionally, I call upon you, a proper and handsome Frenchman, to help me, who was born in a small town in France myself, and who ever so wishes to return someday, in this endeavor.
Votre obéissant,
LACKLAN
Maîtresse du Manoir
---------------------------------
From: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 9:31 PM
To: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Madame LACKLAN
D’accord! D’accord! What is it?
Votre obéissant,
Robert Ooley
27 Different Jobs, UGWC
---------------------------------
From: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 9:42 PM
To: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Monsieur Ooley
Merci! Three things, good sir.
Un: I became quite displeased to find out that there was no physical reward for winning the Massive Melee. Why not? The winner of the WrestleStock Cup receives a literal cup, and I believe that the Cotton woman was able to sell some sort of trinkent online from the Global Challenge, but I left Spain with naught but intrinsic rewards. This MUST be rectified as soon as possible.
Deux: While I understand the limited minds of children, and thus am fully aware that I will have to beat my new name into the heads, hearts, and mouths of many of my contemporaries, I grew aghast to learn that LACKLAN is not written across my many...many...accomplishments and records on the UGWC wiki page. The monkeys...or so I assume...who run the site MUST have a high enough intelligence to fix such an error.
Trois: My match in two days’ time. While I know the literal answer to be that silly amateur puppet master Ichabod, I still find myself wondering one of the age-old sayings within the wrestling business: Who booked this shit?!
Votre obéissant,
LACKLAN
Maîtresse du Manoir
---------------------------------
From: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 9:57 PM
To: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Madame LACKLAN
Hmm. Well. In order, I guess?
Un: Listen: We’re broke. Literally. The sheer amount of money we spend on having to replace the majority of the Synergy Arena every week due to the lawlessness of the last two Creative Directors would make you weep. Things were perfect three years ago when I was in charge, of course, but those days are long gone.
Deux: To be fair, you HAVE been known by a few different names, and even MORE than you have mentioned. But I will speak with one of the monkeys (you were right about that part) and see if I can get your name changed...as long as you promise not to change it again any time soon.
Trois: Um...you and Deimos...your friend...are facing off against two of the most decorated Entertainment Professionals there have ever been. Why would you call this shit?
Votre obéissant,
Robert Ooley
27 Different Jobs, UGWC
---------------------------------
From: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 10:06 PM
To: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Monsieur Ooley
Un: Le sigh. This is understandable, if not acceptable. I had simply wished to add some typ of trophy to go with the ones held by my beautiful daughters. I suppose becoming the World Champion the world deserves will have to be trophy enough.
Deux: Without question or worry, I will never have another name, sir. Yes, I was born Aveline du Merovingian. Yes, I took the name Ava Quinn when I became a wrestler. Yes, I took the name of my dear husband and became Aveline Lacklan. Yes, I fell from grace and because Le Bord de Dieu. But now I am only one thing. I am my husband reborn. I am his spirit in this world. It is I who am now the Voice of God and the Hammer of His Will. I am LACKLAN.
Trois: Surely you jest.
Votre obéissant,
LACKLAN
Maîtresse du Manoir
---------------------------------
From: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 10:15 PM
To: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Madame LACKLAN
Un: C’est la vie, Madam!
Deux: Je comprends!
Trois: No, Madam. Donovan Hastings is potentially THE most important person to have ever been in the UGWC before, and Travis Roberts is the longest-reigning World Champion...something of which YOU should hold important, considering your own work as Chaos Champion.
Votre obéissant,
Robert Ooley
27 Different Jobs, UGWC
---------------------------------
From: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 :10:24 PM
To: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Monsieur Ooley
I see.
Well then.
Allow me this moment to enlighten you, Monsieur.
This is a waste of not only MY valuable time, but that of the entire INDUSTRY.
Last year, the winner of the Massive Melee was Kem Dynamo. Entering in from the penultimate draw, she was able to outwit fellow finalist Alan Wallace to secure her spot in the WrestleStock main event. The champion at that time was the unfortunate Lucy Wylde, who was halfway through her breakdown of sin, drugs, kidnappings, lesbian harlotry, and overall embarrassment of this company, as you may remember. After Dynamo lucked her way into winning the Melee, she was placed into matches with both the champion and the champion’s pet dog, the gargoyle Lockheart, in order to both increase interest in the future matchup and to allow the wrestlers the opportunity to prepare for one another. In fact, as you will recall, the two weeks between the Melee and the final night of WrestleStock featured quite a bit of intensity between the Melee winner and the World Champion! The year before...though I was only watching from a distance at the time...the same opportunity was afforded to my friend, the good doctor Baal, when he won the Melee and was thrust into position to fight Ms. Morgan, the World Champion.
Yet I?
Am I afforded this service?
Am I thrust into matches or situations with the Vaughn girl?
No.
Our World Champion...thankfully deciding to grace us with her presence and actually show up to work for a change...is in a high-profile matchup with some of the UGWC’s top contenders! Wallace, a man who might well be standing in my position if he had entered the Melee at my number, his pride wounded and desiring to finally get a victory over Vaughn. Scott, his hopes of defeating me in an important match yet again dashed, hopeful to cement his name as the rightful challenger to the World Title at whatever silly name they come up with for our currently untitled PPV event in August! And Vaughn herself, using the time to test herself against the best this company has to offer and regain the momentum she lost by allowing the ugly crying of Cotton to treat upon her sensibilities.
But me?
But LACKLAN?
I have not been given what is DUE ME. I have not been giving with the Good Doctor and the forgettable Dynamo were afforded. While it can be argued that Vaughn and I know each other as well as any two competitors in this company, having wrestled over a dozen times, more times against one another than many others combined, the truth of the matter is that she and I have had precious few matches which TRULY mattered. Matches with GREAT stakes. And these two weeks between the Melee and our destiny at WrestleStock should be handled with care and honor, just as they were for the aforementioned previous Melee winners.
Instead I am handed, again to use the age-old saying, this shit.
Donovan Hastings may well be the most decorated man in the history of this company, as you mentioned, but he has no business in this match. Yes, he has found himself the unlikely Cooperative Champion alongside one of my lovely daughters, but the entire world knows the truth: My daughter does the lion’s share of the work. More. He puffs out his chest and postures as the cock, offering little jabs and jibs, all the while allowing the far more capable Grey-Lacklan to “earn” him his modern accolades. But when you take away my beauty? When you take away the influence of my house? All he has to show for himself is victory over the House of Raab.
Might as well puff your chest over being able to walk on dirt without falling.
His one attempt at relevancy this year, his one path to success which was not sucking at the teet of my house, was a bout of failure at Seven Deadly Sins in the battle of pride and humility. And while he no doubt giggled while telling Wallace that his victory was inevitable, all we saw was Vain telling him that he was welcome for the lesson.
So no, Monsieur Ooley, I am NOT looking forward to my time being WASTED by someone who is as likely to post a copy of a treasure map, or a schematic of his dungeon, or even his damned GROCERY SHOPPING LIST as he is to conduct himself with a proper interview! I am NOT looking forward to these precious two weeks being SQUANDERED by a man who should be sitting at home with his small children but is instead finding himself in the MAIN EVENT against ME. I am NOT looking forward to yet another rehash of his lifelong complicated feud with my friend Phrixus, wherein he seems to keep dear Fear stuck in this odd time-loop of never being able to grow beyond 2014. I am NOT looking forward half the crowd leaving the arena after the triple threat before it!
Of course, if I am to rail on about my time being wasted, there is no better example than being in a match with Travis Roberts.
Oui, Monsieur Ooley, I understand who Roberts is. Oui! Greatest World Champion in history! Unstoppable! Unbreakable! The greatest turnaround in the HISTORY of this business! From a scant five wins in 2015 to utter dominance the following year, there is no more powerful story than that of Roberts! And to that, I say this, something I have said to my cooperative partner recently:
Let the past burn.
2016 was a long time ago.
Roberts’ UGWC might as well have been a carnival attraction. Yes, his UGWC saw the rise of Baal, and saw greatness from the likes of Wallace and Dredd, it always housed perennial low life trash like Pax and Vidas, and not only allowed them a home, but lifted them up, propped them up, as pillars of success. Why, even Holden Orson, who has been such a miserable wretch this year so as to not even be able to show his face the last few weeks, was considered a powerful individual as a member of the Engine. In short, while Roberts’ reign in 2016 is, for the time being, the pinnacle of our business, it has a rather large asterisk next to it in the record book:
He was a champion in a company filled with mediocrity.
And much like Orson, Roberts is to learn that 2016 and 2019 are far too different for him to cope.
Oh! His grand entrance! Oh! The pageantry! Oh! The commentators who pleasured themselves at his arrival!
Oh, the silliness of it all. Not in my ring, Monsieur Ooley. Not in my business. Out he goes.
How fortunate that he was able then to nearly murder McWrestleface in order to make himself feel better. Oh, how the Roberts Fanclub must have squealed in delight to see their hero attempt to wipe off the mud of his professional erectile dysfunction when he was allowed to destroy a man who, regardless of success, has been working all year to make something of himself.
How fortunate for him.
And now he is gifted, in his first match back in the business, a main event slot against someone he has nothing to do with, alongside another man who has zero reason to be there.
How fortunate for him.
At least this time around there will be people who are legally obligated to watch his promotional videos, rather than the audience of no one who bothered to watch, much less attempt to figure out, the videos of the “mysterious” figure spouting the Eastern jibberish leading up to the Melee.
How fortunate for him.
Do not get me wrong, Monsieur Ooley: I fully understand WHY this match is happening. In fact, I imagine that everyone in the company does. But after you strip away all the nonsense? All the false pretenses? When you look at what we are doing, and what we SHOULD be doing? To paraphrase Hastings:
It is an inevitable waste of everyone’s time.
Thus, I ask again: Who booked this shit?
Votre obéissant,
LACKLAN
Maîtresse du Manoir
---------------------------------
From: Robert Ooley <maketheladiessayOOOOOOleyley@ugwc.com>
Date: June 15th 2019 10:35 PM
To: LACKLAN <thatfrenchchick@ugwc.com>
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Matters of irritation
Madame LACKLAN
...tell me how you really feel...
Votre obéissant,
Robert Ooley
27 Different Jobs, UGWC
x2
