Promo- Revival

[The Ill One 0]

 

Ben Hardy awkwardly cranks his body backwards in his chair to address the camera behind him, with a familiar figure looking unsettled in a swivel chair across the room. “This is Ben Hardy and here is a SWF.com exclusive interview with somebody whose name has become etched into the SWF, for better or worse, in Insane Luchador’s first interview in…”

 

“Quite a long time,” IL grunts to Hardy’s forced grin. He turns back around in his chair to face the Ill One, Andrew Rickmen, who seems restless, turning in his chair, slightly slouched down, and idly cracking his knuckles.

 

“Right, it’s been quite a long time since we’ve talked,” Hardy agrees to Luchador’s apathetic shrug who forces himself to joke in response-

 

“What, have you missed me?” He leans forward and jokingly, albeit a bit too hard (as evidenced by Hardy wincing), smacks him on the knee. “So, Hardy, what’s been up? How are you doing, life been going well, things have been treating you alright, eh?”

 

Hardy seems taken aback by Luchador’s rapid-fire questions and says, “I’ve been good enough, I guess, how have you been doing, IL?”

 

He runs a hand through his spiked hair and asks, “How do I look like life’s been treating me?” He lets Hardy awkwardly try to think up of an answer before saying, “I’m kidding, Hardy, I’m kidding- can a guy not joke around anymore? Do I have to be all sadistic smirks and insincere smiles?” He asks, ironically forcing a grin across his face, before leaning forward again. “You have some questions, right? I hope so, man, because you called me here so… shoot.”

 

“Okay,” Hardy says, trying to keep up with Luchador, and he finally asks, “So you’ve recently returned from yet another hiatus…”

 

“Yet another?” IL edgily asks.

 

“Sorry,” he quickly replies.

 

He quickly changes to a more amicable, although debatably fake, demeanor. “Don’t be sorry, I’m mostly joking but let me guess, you want to discuss the upcoming All-Show Brawl, right? You’re hoping to get me to spew out some answers to give yourself some insight into the Ill One’s mind, no? Hope a couple of Luchadorians give the website a few more hits, right? Hype up the looming event, right?” He doesn’t even wait for an answer before saying, “So go.”

 

“Go away?” He asks in confusion before softly mumbling, “Luchadorians?”

 

“No, go ahead and ask your questions, earn that paycheck, Hardy,” he says with a laugh before dismissively waving his hand as if giving him permission to speak.

 

“Okay, so you have an upcoming match with an unique yet now familiar stipulation- the All-Show Brawl, essentially an anything-goes, show-long Ironman Match… this would be the second one in SWF history, which means you will have been in both. How do you feel about this, IL, is this any more or less daunting than the original? Are there too many differences between Toxxic and Fury to really make connections or build strategy, did the original match now give you an idea of what to do or the best approach?”

 

Luchador blankly stares before requesting, “Slow down, Hardy. Of course there are some differences between the first and second, shit, the only similarity is the stipulation itself, which isn’t anything too intimidating.”

 

“The stipulation doesn’t bother you then, do you remember how grueling the first was?” Hardy asks, surprised. “You lost the first one to Toxxic.”

 

“No shit?” IL venomously spits and shakes his head. “Hardy,” Luchador begins, narrowing his eyes, “I’ve been through many, many battles and I’ve been subjected to a lot of unique stipulations… and I’ve embraced every single one. Of course I remember how grueling it was and Toxxic’s a god damn liar if he claims he doesn’t because only a select few can pull this one off, Hardy. Try to imagine this, Hardy, Christian Fury and I are going to square off throughout the show, throughout the arena with virtually no rules. Go on, Hardy; try to imagine what that takes. But, no, the only similarity between the first and this one is that it’ll be just another chapter in this saga, you know? It’s just another match, it just happens to be one hell of one… hell, what do I have to lose? Shit, man, what do I have to gain? Am I doing this for a title shot, nah, or am I doing this to appease whoever’s the puppet master tuggin’ our strings? No. I’m doing this because wrestling’s what I do and it’s about time that things change for me, it’s about time that I become more than just a familiar face, familiar name.”

 

“So you have something to prove?” He asks.

 

“I don’t have to prove anything, I already have proved many things- every scarred inch of my body proves a hell of a lot, Hardy, and I’m just saying that I will prove that things are different. The perennial underdog is coming to shake the federation’s god damn foundation, this is my revival, you know? This upcoming match is just another match in essence but it’ll just be some evidence of what I can do- hell, Hardy; I’m not bragging or boasting. I’m not even trying to sound like some prodigy, no, I’m just saying- no, I’m telling you that things are going to change for the Ill One, that things are going to change for the federation because of the Ill One,” he takes a deep breath after the tangent and asks, “Good enough?”

 

Hardy, unable to think of a proper answer, simply asks, “So you’re saying that we haven’t seen anything yet?”

 

Insane Luchador gives a psychotic laugh before skeptically looking at him. “Are you, are you serious? Are you claiming that nobody has seen anything yet? No, Christ no, I’m just pointing out that things will be changing- this isn’t some crazy crusade, it’s a proclamation, even a warning to all the Doubting Thomas out there, I’m not somebody to be overlooked, I’m not somebody to be forgotten, and I’m not somebody to ever be counted out, alright?” Hardy tries to catch his eye but notices a more distant stare in Luchador’s wild green eyes, as if he’s not entirely there. He coughs and shoots Hardy a confused look, as if shocked Hardy doesn’t respond to the ramblings. So, naturally, he continues-

 

“Here’s the deal, Hardy, I’m not saying I’m necessarily the best- people who claim that are insecure… what I am saying is that sometimes wasted potential gets romanticized, okay? Sometimes not knowing one’s true abilities glorifies it beyond what probably once was their true limitations and I have to admit, that was something that I found appealing, you know?”

 

“Sure,” Hardy mutters, shifting uncomfortably and looking back to shoot a desperate look at the camera, as if it could bail him out.

 

“But now, nah, that’s a hollow memory, twisted thoughts, and that’s the easy way out- I’m not taking the easy way out anymore, got me? Perhaps I’ve been half-assing it, Hardy, maybe I haven’t been and what I’ve shown is all I got… but we’re going to find out soon, aren’t we?” He stares at the silent Hardy, as if gaining touch with reality again and smirks.

 

Hardy glances back at the camera and turns his attention back to IL, boldly stating, “We aren’t here to be preached or hear your new philosophies.”

 

Insane Luchador goes still in his seat and he slightly cocks his head to the side in mild disbelief. A smile creeps on his face until he suddenly pounds his fist on the arm rest, however he quickly cools down, and retorts, “You asked for my time, you get whatever I have to say, got it? Go waste somebody else’s time for trivial interviews if you don’t appreciate my company.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Hardy slowly says. “It’s just that you’re starting to ram-…” he begins but Luchador promptly cuts him off.

 

“On a bit of a side note, Hardy, do you know what makes a person scary, what truly makes somebody fear him?” He asks with a rather devious smirk.

 

“Uh…” he stumbles for an answer, so Luchador simply grunts.

 

“It’s not raw power, superb talent, intimidating physique, imposing looks, or even an aura of being invincible. It’s unpredictability, Hardy, and that’s something you can’t truly fake… think about it, what’s more worrying than never knowing how they’ll respond to anything at any given time? Sure, sure you could lash out randomly but that’s just being a fake- people can see right through that little game or you could create the illusion of being insane by acting irrationally, pretending to hear these voices or see that delusional shadow…” He pauses to see if Hardy as if he’d have the balls to call Luchador out on potentially doing that, but he just gets silence. “Contrary to my name, Hardy, I wouldn’t say that I’m insane.”

 

“You’re not?” he dubiously asks.

 

“No, Hardy, no- I am what I am and that’s all I can ever be, know what I mean?”

 

Hardy nods in appeasement, despite clearly not following but decides to continue. “So, perhaps this is ancient history, but you and Fury are old acquaintances, correct?”

 

“Yeah,” he says while beginning to calm down, returning to slowly turning side to side, staring at Hardy, and tugging on his black sweatshirt’s strings in mild disinterest.

 

“Could that change things? In the original All-Show Brawl you squared off against Toxxic, somebody you’ve had quite a few encounters with and presumably isn’t your best friend,” he says to Luchador’s slight chuckle.

 

“It does change things a little bit, debatably for the better- it’s much, much easier to bring it all to the table for an old friend, you know? People claim that it’s harder to hurt somebody you care or cared about but that’s bullshit, they’re just overlooking the obvious here.”

 

“Which is?” Hardy asks, proving it’s not obvious what-so-ever, throwing Luchador off, and making him realize it’s –obviously- not the so obvious.

 

“Fury knows exactly what I’m capable of and he better believe that I’m bringing all of it to the table. I’m not looking to hurt him, no, I am simply fighting him and all the accompanying agony, pain, blood, scar tissue or whatever will be a by-product… there won’t be, far as I know, any hard feelings going in or coming out. Hell, I’ve made a lot of enemies, Hardy, and very few friends- if I don’t give it a hundred percent throwing down with the enemy, screw them, what does that matter?”

 

“Well, you are known to hold grudges, IL, so doesn’t that mean something?” He asks, gauging Luchador’s reaction without any luck.

 

“Losing against rivals hasn't kept me up at night, Hardy, because what I brought is what I brought, simple as that. The past is the past, just remember it instead of brooding upon it... that's the only healthy way, think of what's to come. There’s always, always other times, other matches to redeem yourself but against a friend, you better bring it all in respect- Fury deserves it. I’d be insulted if Fury didn’t bring his all because if there’s any stipulation that requires every damn thing you can muster up, it’s this one. Chris,” he begins, staring past Hardy and into the camera with a smirk, “we haven’t spoke in a while, have we? Well, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up come the show and I’m bringing it, Fury, the Ill One is going all-out in respect to you- and I expect exactly the same.”

[Toxxic 0]

And suddenly everyone's promoing!

 

A good promo, IL. The part I particularly like was about wasted potential being romanticised and not knowing someone's true limits can make their abilities seem greater than maybe they are... not only a very true statement, in wrestling and in many other things, but also a good angle to take on the Insane Luchador buckling down and making a steady, determined run at wrestling in the SWF rather than... I dunno, doing whatever he does in his spare time!

 

Now show!