Post by davidtroy on Mar 8, 2019 22:39:23 GMT -5
The low growl of a beastly chuckle greets us as the camera snaps on.
Or more appropriately, God-Beastly.
He sits on a metal folding chair that looks far too small to bear his sheer bulk. At 6’4” and around 300 pounds, Mushigihara continues chuckling as he admires the two golden belts adoring either shoulder; on the left, a rather rustic looking belt with what looks like a map of interlocking southern states in America, with the words “STRONG STYLE GRAND PRIX HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION” embedded on the crest. On the right… the MAX Heavyweight Championship.
Eddie Dante:
Look upon this monster, Frank.
English.
Sauntering into the frame, Eddie Dante grins at us. Dressed to the nines as always, he plants a hand onto his God-Beast’s meaty shoulder.
Eddie Dante:
This man has destroyed you so many times that he is starting to grow BORED of the act if not for the notion of beating you in as many countries as possible across all seven continents! In New Orleans, in Biloxi, throughout Japan, and now he’ll get to add London to that list.
Dante’s confident swagger fades into venomous contempt as he continues.
Eddie Dante:
And don’t think for a SECOND that your “ghost” friend will be of any use to you in battle. We still owe him for those assaults back home, after all.
Mushi nods, before turning his head to spit on the floor.
Eddie Dante:
The Ghost Army may be the World Tag Team Champions, but they will already have their hands full with my man David Troy, and even if he manages to beat you for those belts… you will find no solace in this MAX title.
Mushigihara slaps the center plate of his newly-won prize.
Eddie Dante:
Not when we have so much to catch up on, in terms of embarrassing you BOTH!
Now Eddie chuckles.
Eddie Dante:
No one is safe, huh?
He shakes his head and smiles.
Eddie Dante:
Well, “safe” has never been Mushigihara’s favorite environment. Look at his history, Ghost Army! You’ll find he’s done battle with DEVILS, and LIVED. If you think, even after those wanton assaults he’s scared of EITHER of you… well, you’re going to be in for a long, LONG night in London.
Mushigihara’s voice interrupts. In Japanese, of course.
Mushigihara:
So the big bad man of the mountains seriously believes he can topple me, huh? After the regular beatings I have given him, all over this planet, he thinks he stands a chance in HELL of being anything OTHER THAN the first statement to my reign as Maximum Japan’s overlord?!
The champion looks at us, shaking his head.
Mushigihara:
Pathetic. When I see Frank Dylan James anymore… all I see is a fool who continues to challenge someone who outmatches them in EVERY WAY, to a fight. DESPITE losing, again and again. And again, and again, and AGAIN. Even as the obvious injuries mount up, ones that would convince wiser men to back down before it goes too far… that loser just continues to step up and get knocked down.
A low, seething growl.
Mushigihara:
Because of all those injuries you have taken, NONE OF THEM have touched that ego. That oozing, overpowering ego that refuses to just accept DEFEAT. Maybe he compromises and finds friends to help him out, friends like that thug Gensai. But the outcome is always. ALWAYS. The same. That same fool is always left on the ground with his bruises and broken bones, always sure that the next time will be any different.
A chuckle.
Mushigihara:
And whether or not you bring Go Gensai or not… it won’t be any different. At all. Other than making Gensai pay for his foolishness, that is. I’ll make you my whipping boy yet again, all through Europe, before I finish you off in London.
The God-Beast rises to his feet.
Mushigihara:
And you… AND Gensai, will be the first casualties of a reign that will echo through the ages, and make SHAKESPEARE HIMSELF rise from the dead to write of the thousand years of darkness I will unleash upon the WORLD.
He chuckles as he leans towards the camera
Mushigihara:
And as you and Gensai’s remains mingle with the dust that once was known as ZENKI, ALL who survive will behold the majesty that is Mushigihara.
He shifts his shoulders, allowing each title belt to slide down and hang from the grip of either hand, before raising them overhead and unleashing that mighty roar…
“OSU!!!”
Cut.
Or more appropriately, God-Beastly.
He sits on a metal folding chair that looks far too small to bear his sheer bulk. At 6’4” and around 300 pounds, Mushigihara continues chuckling as he admires the two golden belts adoring either shoulder; on the left, a rather rustic looking belt with what looks like a map of interlocking southern states in America, with the words “STRONG STYLE GRAND PRIX HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION” embedded on the crest. On the right… the MAX Heavyweight Championship.
Eddie Dante:
Look upon this monster, Frank.
English.
Sauntering into the frame, Eddie Dante grins at us. Dressed to the nines as always, he plants a hand onto his God-Beast’s meaty shoulder.
Eddie Dante:
This man has destroyed you so many times that he is starting to grow BORED of the act if not for the notion of beating you in as many countries as possible across all seven continents! In New Orleans, in Biloxi, throughout Japan, and now he’ll get to add London to that list.
Dante’s confident swagger fades into venomous contempt as he continues.
Eddie Dante:
And don’t think for a SECOND that your “ghost” friend will be of any use to you in battle. We still owe him for those assaults back home, after all.
Mushi nods, before turning his head to spit on the floor.
Eddie Dante:
The Ghost Army may be the World Tag Team Champions, but they will already have their hands full with my man David Troy, and even if he manages to beat you for those belts… you will find no solace in this MAX title.
Mushigihara slaps the center plate of his newly-won prize.
Eddie Dante:
Not when we have so much to catch up on, in terms of embarrassing you BOTH!
Now Eddie chuckles.
Eddie Dante:
No one is safe, huh?
He shakes his head and smiles.
Eddie Dante:
Well, “safe” has never been Mushigihara’s favorite environment. Look at his history, Ghost Army! You’ll find he’s done battle with DEVILS, and LIVED. If you think, even after those wanton assaults he’s scared of EITHER of you… well, you’re going to be in for a long, LONG night in London.
Mushigihara’s voice interrupts. In Japanese, of course.
Mushigihara:
So the big bad man of the mountains seriously believes he can topple me, huh? After the regular beatings I have given him, all over this planet, he thinks he stands a chance in HELL of being anything OTHER THAN the first statement to my reign as Maximum Japan’s overlord?!
The champion looks at us, shaking his head.
Mushigihara:
Pathetic. When I see Frank Dylan James anymore… all I see is a fool who continues to challenge someone who outmatches them in EVERY WAY, to a fight. DESPITE losing, again and again. And again, and again, and AGAIN. Even as the obvious injuries mount up, ones that would convince wiser men to back down before it goes too far… that loser just continues to step up and get knocked down.
A low, seething growl.
Mushigihara:
Because of all those injuries you have taken, NONE OF THEM have touched that ego. That oozing, overpowering ego that refuses to just accept DEFEAT. Maybe he compromises and finds friends to help him out, friends like that thug Gensai. But the outcome is always. ALWAYS. The same. That same fool is always left on the ground with his bruises and broken bones, always sure that the next time will be any different.
A chuckle.
Mushigihara:
And whether or not you bring Go Gensai or not… it won’t be any different. At all. Other than making Gensai pay for his foolishness, that is. I’ll make you my whipping boy yet again, all through Europe, before I finish you off in London.
The God-Beast rises to his feet.
Mushigihara:
And you… AND Gensai, will be the first casualties of a reign that will echo through the ages, and make SHAKESPEARE HIMSELF rise from the dead to write of the thousand years of darkness I will unleash upon the WORLD.
He chuckles as he leans towards the camera
Mushigihara:
And as you and Gensai’s remains mingle with the dust that once was known as ZENKI, ALL who survive will behold the majesty that is Mushigihara.
He shifts his shoulders, allowing each title belt to slide down and hang from the grip of either hand, before raising them overhead and unleashing that mighty roar…
“OSU!!!”
Cut.