Post by Nathaniel Dixon 🗡️ on Jan 19, 2023 4:55:38 GMT
The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
Traces of cyanide in your cigarette.
Gun full of bullets for your Russian roulette.
(We all feel sorry for you now!)
Your luck is flying like a bat out of Hell.
You're empty-handed at your life's show-and-tell.
(You have no idea what's coming down!)
(A million voices call from the other side…)
“Oh… were you expecting an audio diary?”
The British accent softly resonates outside of the camera’s view. It’s set inside a luxurious corner executive suite overlooking Kawasaki, Japan. Through the windows, the morning rays of the sun provide natural illumination for the suite. Nathaniel Dixon becomes a part of the visual and clasps his hands together with a smile.“My apologies. This time, I felt the need to record a promo. Starting off, I’d like to formally introduce myself to The Entity. My name is Nathaniel Elijah-Alexander Dixon, the Intellectual Evolution of Professional Wrestling. Oh, and I’m also the Owner and CEO of Dixon Corporate Enterprises, but that’s secondary.”
He chuckles softly and even casually waves a hand at the latter profession. Clearly, he’s a different kind of businessman.
“In addition to The Entity, I work for HYBRID rEvolution, XIX Wrestling, Quantum MMA, New Frontier Wrestling, and Pro Wrestling Excellence. Ah, but let’s not forget I starred in The Splat Network’s Return to Durango. I was the ever-so-charming Roy Turner, a role I played to perfection. You really should check it out if you haven’t already. It is sublime.”
Confident as always. He unclasps his hands and raises his left hand to lightly twist a few dark curls of his hair around his index finger.
“So, now that the formalities are out of the way… Allow me to address The Entity’s Final Hour for a moment or two -- specifically, The Entity World Championship Number One Contendership match. I’m not going to sugarcoat it: it was a disaster. One of my worst showcases. Humiliating. I was trapped in a… what was it called? A bloody Three Stooges comedy sketch. Such an awful American vaudeville and comedy team.”
The nerve! He rolls his earth-colored eyes and shakes his head.
“If you want true comedy gold, watch James Acaster. But let’s not get too far off the topic. Matsuda-san and Mr. Archer -- the bloody moron who kept mistaking HER pronouns in his promo -- were the better wrestlers that night. Unlike some of the high and mighty tossers in this industry, I’m not so arrogant as to blatantly dismiss my opponents when their performances were greater than mine. Yes, Mr. Archer was victorious. He’ll be challenging Mr. Anthony Savage for The Entity World Championship at Kaged In. That is… if he were actually a challenge for the World Champion. I look forward to Mr. Savage utterly destroying him. That’s popcorn worthy.
Oh, and in case anyone was wondering about the backstage situation between myself and the Old Bastard…? No, I won’t be discussing it. I refuse to give the blue blood an inkling of attention.”
Pause. A furrowing of his eyebrows and the corners of his lips slightly curl up.
“Well, except for this.”
Without hesitation, he lifts his right hand and raises the middle finger. This is definitely a vulgar gesture aimed at his father who may be watching this.
“Sod off.”
Not another word about the matter. Clearing his throat, Nathaniel presses on.
“Now then, let’s rewind Final Hour a little. The opening contest was The Devil’s Funhouse to crown the inaugural Entity Crimson Champion. Self-explanatory, but this is the hardcore division of the company. Please keep in mind the word ‘Devil’ in the stipulation.
It was a triple threat between Vinny Blades-san, Mr. Ace Sky, and my opponent for Kaged In, Mr. Damien Teivel. Did you know Teivel is Yiddish for Devil? With that kind of name, you would think he would excel in a match called The DEVIL’S Funhouse. He has the height and weight advantage. He’s a sick and twisted individual -- or so he claims to be. A man of violence and gore, just like yours truly. The insane structure was literally built for him…
And yet… despite all of this?
You are without the crimson gold.
Isn’t that right, Teivel?”
A wicked grin crosses Nathaniel’s face. From the inside of his black and silver embroidered kimono, he retrieves a pair of black leather gloves. He slides them on, pulls them down to fit them properly, and retrieves something else from inside the folds of cloth.
A coil of piano wire.
“It must be so embarrassing for you. An extremist of hardcore and death matches loses a bout that plays to his own bloody name! Do you know what that makes you, ‘Teivel’?”
Your Lord of Charisma hand gestures quotation marks and coldly smirks.
“A fraud.
You’re no Devil, Damien. Far from it. When you die, you’re bound for the Eighth Circle of Hell. You’ll be standing head-first in a stone bowl and enduring flames upon your feet… and that is just one of the punishments for those who consciously and willingly commit fraud.
Are you afraid, boy?
No…?
Well…
You will be.”
An eerily suave tone punctuates his phrase. He even adds a knowing little smile. Uncoiling the piano wire, Nathaniel wraps it around his gloved hands and stretches it out. He presents the simple yet lethal weapon to the camera. To Damien.
“Mr. Anton Crowley, the current vessel of Lord Lucifer, the God of the Children of Nephilim, painted me with one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Wrath. I accepted it with open arms. Who am I to deny the kind of sinner I am? There are those who incur my wrath, a few of them accidental, but the majority do so on purpose. That is a fool’s wish. After all, no one with common bloody sense would even attempt it.
Since my return to this industry in May of 2021, I have defeated many opponents, including multiple-time World Champions. Yet even now, there are those who are unbelievably ignorant. They insult me, mock me, laugh at me, underestimate me… and you know what?
I’m going to let them -- with a smile on my face. It will no longer bother me. Why? Because when it comes time for them to meet me in the ring…?
When it’s time for you to come face-to-face with the Devil’s Son at Kaged In…?”
He tightens his grip on the piano wire. It quivers with intensity, letting off a visual warning.
“Omae Wa Mou Shindeiru.”
(“You’re already dead.”)
EX Chapter XII: W.R.A.T.H.
