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 Demise? Only for Mason DeAngelo

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Brandon Bash
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PostSubject: Demise? Only for Mason DeAngelo   Wed Jun 27, 2012 2:14 am

This Past Saturday Night on Overdrive...

The crowd was showering the arena with boos after Christian Toranto had announced that the main event was cancelled due to Raphael being disqualified from the tournament. I stood in the ring with Mason DeAngelo, disappointed with this outcome. Though, as I turned to face Mason, I was instead met with his foot crashing straight into my chin as he laid me out with some Sweet Chin Music. I am unsure of what happened in the moments following this, the last thing I remembered were the blurry lights from the lights above coming in as my vision came back to me. The boos were even louder, as I slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position. I held my chin with a small wince of pain showing on my face, as I stared at Mason, who was now standing on the stage staring at me with a smug smirk across his lips. We had gone off the air at this point. Slowly, a small, sadistic grin crept across my lips as Mason had stepped behind the curtain after taunting me...

Tuesday. Time unknown.

The scene opens up after a click is heard, and my face can be seen as I hold my own camcorder up at face level. That trademark sadistic grin once again spread across my lips. In the background you can only see the inside of an apartment. The only light was dim from a lamp in the background. A dresser could be seen with a framed picture of myself and my wife, Brooke Michelle-Kendrick, on our wedding day. Next to it was a picture of our daughter, Skye, dressed up for her first day of kindergarten. My, oh my, how fast she's grown. But, honestly...who the hell really cares about that when the world is waiting to hear me rant on and on about how much I'm angry at Mason DeAngelo after that cheap shot on Saturday? Or when I'm about to go on and on about how much I plan to destroy him in our no disqualification main event match on the upcoming Saturday Night Overdrive? Yeah...no one cares about that shit. Didn't think so. But, figured I'd give some kind of outlook on my personal life. Just so in the future, you can ask yourself how the hell this loving husband and father can become such a monster in the ring...

Brandon Bash
Now, here I stand in the apartment I had bought four years ago when the Extreme Championship Wrestling Federation called Los Angeles it's home. And I have been annoyed...nagged...in other words, asked time and time and fucking time again how angry I am at Mason DeAngelo for pretty much trying to kick my head right off of my shoulders. But...you know what? Anger is far from what I feel, to be honest. Excited. Now that...that's more how I feel about the whole situation. Sure, our triple threat match was called off after Raphael Donatello Leonardo Michelangelo the Eleventy-Third went and got himself disqualified for failing the company wellness policy. Sure, I didn't get the chance to make him tap out like I had hoped...but, he's no longer a problem in the real showdown here, folks. That's right. FINALLY. It is set in stone. Brandon Bash. Michael DeAngelo. One-on-one to decide the first ever Warfare Entertainment Wrestling Revolution Champion! Ever since you simply opened your mouth and spoke my name weeks ago, Mason...I have been waiting for this moment. Actually, since the moment you first stepped into the ring and pretty much dominated those two nobodies in the first round of the Revolution Championship Tournament, I've been waiting for this moment. I've listened to you call me a pretty boy. Tell me that I'm not a man at all. You've said you're going to show the world just how terrible of a wrestler I really am. And hear you claim that you are the greatest wrestler in the world. You even said that I wasn't in your head, and that you are unafraid of me. You might not be afraid of me, Mason DeAngelo...but as I've told you before, if you don't think that I'm not in your head, you are dead wrong. Let me just quote you for just a moment, Mason. Let's see...what was it you said..? "
Nothing will be able to save you, especially not Bash, because I want him more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. Brandon I almost feel sorry for you. You have enraged the greatest wrestler of all time and I will stop at nothing to get my vengeance." I'm pretty sure I said it before, but that was my goal all along. I just really wanted to piss you off. Get you all riled up, wanting to get back at me for costing you your match two weeks ago. Yet...you have already begun to disappoint me, Mason, Your way of getting back at me was...a superkick? You can call it Sweet Chin Music all you want, but I don't remember seeing you in class when I learned the move from the man who made that move famous down in San Antone, Texas. Not naming any names, due to legal reasons, of course. But, Mason...that is still a good two weeks away. What people really care about right now, is our no disqualification match main eventing this Saturday night's Overdrive...

I had been pacing back and forth in between the coffee table and entertainment center in the living room area of the apartment. By this time, I had placed the camera on top of the stand in front of my television, and had proceeded to take a seat on the coffee table. It was now that you could see that I was wearing a pair of black cargo pants with an old white Wrestling's Elite Team shirt with the W.E.T in black font.

Brandon Bash
"You see...I had already told you on your Warfare Wire earlier, Mason...I'm saving all my technical ability for our match at Genesis. Seeing as how this is a no disqualification match...I don't plan on having an actual match, Mason. Oh, no. This is going to be a good ole' fashioned brawl! I have been feeling pretty artistic lately. But you see, I don't make just any original type of paintings, Mason. You see...my canvas, why it's the sacred squared-circle that we all have come to love and hate. And my paint of choice? Right now, I plan on painting my canvas with the blood of both you and I. You see, I'm not only going to be looking to put you through the worst kind of pain and torture you've ever been through, Mason...I'm looking to punish myself as well. Why the hell would I do such a thing, you may ask? It's simple, really. Not only do I love inflicting pain...but I love inflicting it upon myself. Pain is my drug, Mason. But not only is it my drug...but it feeds the demon within myself. It keeps the demon at bay. I'm not looking to unleash the demon within just yet, you see. I'm doing this as a favor to you, really. Because, in a way...I enjoy this feeling of actual...competition. Competition that I see only you being able to provide me in this business, Mason DeAngelo. That's a feeling that no one has been able to give me in years, so you should be honored. And I would say don't let it go to your head, but...we already know that your ego is far beyond the limits of being contained inside of you. The ego of Mason DeAngelo far surpasses that of the Earth's atmosphere. And come this Saturday night at Overdrive...I feel like bringing it crashing back down into the middle of that ring as I drop you down into a puddle of our own blood and sweat. Because, you see, Mason...you may be "Prime Time" in your own mind, but I'm going to open your eyes to the reality of it all. You are not superior to me. I will prove you wrong just like I have proved the other who have fallen before me wrong. There is no superior being to that of Brandon Bash. Once you step into the ring with me, the outcome has already been decided once that bell rings. Sure, I'll have to hold back and make it look like you truly are the superior wrestler. But, Mason...in all actuality, I'm just letting your confidence build up so that when I break you, I can feel your own confidence shatter before you. You have no idea what I am truly capable of in our outside of the ring, Mason. This Saturday night just marks the beginning of the process of breaking you down until you realize that you are nothing compared to me. I'll be giving you just a little taste of what's to come July seventh at Genesis. Because come this Saturday, it's all about beating that confidence of yours into the ground, leaving it laying in a puddle of blood along with your broken body. Come Genesis, I'll take it more seriously...and it shall be I showing the world exactly who is the terrible wrestler is between the two of us. I'll see you this Saturday, Mason DeAngelo. But I'm sure you'll see me before then. You'll see exactly who truly is the nightmare in this company...

With that, I once again flashed my trademark sadistic grin, as I began to let out a small laugh. I pushed myself up off of the coffee table, and stepped towards the camera. Instead of hearing the familiar clicking sound of me hitting the power button, I simply grab the camera and smash it straight into the ground. The scene fades away as the clip on the Warfare Entertainment video blog suddenly came to an end...

END.
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