Post by Kalidah on Jun 30, 2024 1:18:04 GMT
“Roy Vezina.”
Eli Buchanan comes walking out of the darkness, wearing a three piece suit, with the King of Iron Title over his shoulder.
“Pardon me if I don’t have my game face on, so to speak, but I have had other things on my mind as of late. Nothing that affects our match, mind you, just some person stuff. Father’s in the hospital, no big deal. He’ll live, for now. Let’s move on.
“I had this really wild idea for a promo. I was going to get Kalidah skating around on the ice, possibly cross checking the Herkmen, while those two old men, who like to follow me around, heckle me and make jokes at your expense. Unfortunately, time is a fickle mistress, and all the ice rinks in the area are booked up by flea markets, so I guess I’m going to have to do this the old fashion way. Now don’t worry, I’m not going to sing. I’m not going quite that old scholl, and, honestly, I seem to lose more matches than I win when I do it, so I’m going to keep the singing to the minimum. Enough of all that, let’s get down to business.
“First off, congratulations on beating Ryan Samuels. Personally, I’m surprised you survived those matches, let alone actually win them, but win you did, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. You’re still standing, with your head in tact and somehow not crippled, and Samuels is heading off to Max-J, making him my future concern, and you Kalidah’s current one.
“Now please don’t take this as an insult, actually, take it as an insult, I really don’t care. I don’t like you, I don’t like the Checking Line, or whatever your little douche canoe group is called. I realize that’s not what they’re called, but I refuse to take the time to check my notes, because it’s hard for me to care about a team in a company with only two other teams in it. Yes, I realize that’s partially my fault, because I forgot to update Azalo and Nizbel’s paperwork and I’m not sure whether they even work for Iron Road.
“Where was I? Oh yeah, you’re a douche canoe. I know, it’s one of the lamest Canadian insults out there, but you, dear sir, are one of the more lame excuses of a Canadian I have ever seen. Kalidah, me, myself and I am a certified monster and have tried to destroy Iron Road, and every other version of this promotion, for nearly a decade, AND YET I can walk into any arena in this ‘This True North Strong And Free’, and get cheered like the great Canadian I am. Meanwhile, you couldn’t get cheered if you were draped in white and red while our national anthem is playing. Why? Because our people know real when they see it, and you’re not real. You are every bad Canadian stereotype wrapped up in an ugly hocket sweater.”
Eli snaps his fingers and points at the camera.
“This is going to get me in trouble with some of my friends and family, but you’re Toronto. No one likes you, you’re overrated, and quite frankly, none of us would miss you if yor disappeared. So here’s what I’m going to do, Roy Boy. You want a King of Iron Title shot, you’re getting it. Not that I have any choice in the matter, but that’s okay, because Kalidah is going to get you get you. Samuels simply wanted to beat your ass. Kalidah is going to maul you, and then he’s going to pin you; one, two, three, and move on to whoever is next. Then you can go back, and be the poor stereotype Canadian you are, and settle for a bronze medal and a bowl of poutine with unmelted cheese curds.”
Eli takes a step back and claps his hands.
“Hey, this has been fun. I would love to stay and chat, but I’m already late, and that’s probably worse for me than my singing. Roy Boy, I’ll see you on Canada Day. Make sure to drink up all your maple syrup and make sure you kiss your pet beaver good bye, because there’s going to be a massacre on our nation’s birthday and all of Canada is going to celebrate your destruction with fire works.”
Eli starts laughing and fades into the shadows.
"Run!"
Eli Buchanan comes walking out of the darkness, wearing a three piece suit, with the King of Iron Title over his shoulder.
“Pardon me if I don’t have my game face on, so to speak, but I have had other things on my mind as of late. Nothing that affects our match, mind you, just some person stuff. Father’s in the hospital, no big deal. He’ll live, for now. Let’s move on.
“I had this really wild idea for a promo. I was going to get Kalidah skating around on the ice, possibly cross checking the Herkmen, while those two old men, who like to follow me around, heckle me and make jokes at your expense. Unfortunately, time is a fickle mistress, and all the ice rinks in the area are booked up by flea markets, so I guess I’m going to have to do this the old fashion way. Now don’t worry, I’m not going to sing. I’m not going quite that old scholl, and, honestly, I seem to lose more matches than I win when I do it, so I’m going to keep the singing to the minimum. Enough of all that, let’s get down to business.
“First off, congratulations on beating Ryan Samuels. Personally, I’m surprised you survived those matches, let alone actually win them, but win you did, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. You’re still standing, with your head in tact and somehow not crippled, and Samuels is heading off to Max-J, making him my future concern, and you Kalidah’s current one.
“Now please don’t take this as an insult, actually, take it as an insult, I really don’t care. I don’t like you, I don’t like the Checking Line, or whatever your little douche canoe group is called. I realize that’s not what they’re called, but I refuse to take the time to check my notes, because it’s hard for me to care about a team in a company with only two other teams in it. Yes, I realize that’s partially my fault, because I forgot to update Azalo and Nizbel’s paperwork and I’m not sure whether they even work for Iron Road.
“Where was I? Oh yeah, you’re a douche canoe. I know, it’s one of the lamest Canadian insults out there, but you, dear sir, are one of the more lame excuses of a Canadian I have ever seen. Kalidah, me, myself and I am a certified monster and have tried to destroy Iron Road, and every other version of this promotion, for nearly a decade, AND YET I can walk into any arena in this ‘This True North Strong And Free’, and get cheered like the great Canadian I am. Meanwhile, you couldn’t get cheered if you were draped in white and red while our national anthem is playing. Why? Because our people know real when they see it, and you’re not real. You are every bad Canadian stereotype wrapped up in an ugly hocket sweater.”
Eli snaps his fingers and points at the camera.
“This is going to get me in trouble with some of my friends and family, but you’re Toronto. No one likes you, you’re overrated, and quite frankly, none of us would miss you if yor disappeared. So here’s what I’m going to do, Roy Boy. You want a King of Iron Title shot, you’re getting it. Not that I have any choice in the matter, but that’s okay, because Kalidah is going to get you get you. Samuels simply wanted to beat your ass. Kalidah is going to maul you, and then he’s going to pin you; one, two, three, and move on to whoever is next. Then you can go back, and be the poor stereotype Canadian you are, and settle for a bronze medal and a bowl of poutine with unmelted cheese curds.”
Eli takes a step back and claps his hands.
“Hey, this has been fun. I would love to stay and chat, but I’m already late, and that’s probably worse for me than my singing. Roy Boy, I’ll see you on Canada Day. Make sure to drink up all your maple syrup and make sure you kiss your pet beaver good bye, because there’s going to be a massacre on our nation’s birthday and all of Canada is going to celebrate your destruction with fire works.”
Eli starts laughing and fades into the shadows.
"Run!"