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Discipline and Respect.
Topic Started: Jul 6 2017, 02:56 PM (88 Views)
Pimpdizzle
The Berserker
The scene opens inside of the wooden office of the Piledriving Viking. Gunnar, who has just finished eating dinner, puts his knife and fork down. On the plate? Biscuits and Gravy. They look really good too. Wuher wipes his face and beard with a napkin and pushes his dish aside. His piercing blue eyes stare bullets into the audience.

"Lucky's Opens again this weekend. Our Liquor License and all the legal mumbo jumbo taken care of. The ladies will be back and dancing for all the clientele. The grand public reopening is Saturday the 8th with a special VIP Party on July the 7th. My bar has never looked better."

Wuher stands up as the PRW camera crew follow him. Out of the office over to the balcony overlooking the gigantic bar. In the center is a pristine, clean, round bar that looks like it was taken off the deck of an early 20th century luxury liner. The rest of the decor is what you expect from the House that PRW built.

"There isn't a finer place in America that is dedicated to booze, bruises, and boobs. We're back in prime form. I have added a kitchen to this place, a deck, and 50 tap lines of the best local, national, and international beer that you'll find around here. You're going to wish a table here had instant replay because these girls... brother."

As he says that, some brunette, bouncy girl walks by wearing nothing more than a few strings and pieces of cloth that cover all of the PRW requirements for being on television. She's carrying a large water gun that is twice the size of this girl's torso. The final shot is of her giggling and brushing by Wuher. Wuher watches as she walks away and smirks. You get his point.

"We had a soft open, family and friends were invited a few days ago. A nice cookout for the 4th of July. Service was good, we bonded but I had noticed something. Now I know I'm only 30, so I can't talk much however... there seems to be an obvious generational gap between me and those who are younger than me. I don't know if it's the internet revolution or not knowing what it's like to move rabbit ears to catch the local wrestling channel on a Saturday morning. I'm not sure."

Wuher is still walking through the bar. He reaches one of the secondary bars on the second floor, goes behind and pulls out a nonic imperial pint glass and pours himself some sort of Amber Lager from one of the beautifully adorned taps. Gunnar takes a moment to sip his wonderful nectar of the gods and raises his glass to the PRW faithful.

"Then we get to you Mr. Biscuit. Did you have a tag team partner named Sausage Gravy? Serious Question."

We're heading back to Wuher's office. Beer in hand. You see other employees of the bar walking about with some sort of purpose on their face. You know there's still some silliness going on, but really you get the impression you're inside of a beast. This leviathan of a bar that is much more than just some hole in the wall in Southern Philadelphia.

"There's a big difference between me and you kid. I bet you walk into a locker room and you plop your bag down and start changing. As if you were the reason the rest of the world existed?! Sonovabitch. Do you even take your headphones off and stop looking at your phone before that? I highly doubt it. I blame ESPN for that shit by the way, showing the big superstars walking in with their suits and bags and their completely overpriced, branded, shitty headphones."

The Viking takes his seat. It fits him well, like a glove. High backed, leather, adorned with horns on the top crest. There's a menace in that stare. A big chip on his shoulder which becomes more apparent as he continues to rant.

"The biggest problem today with the generation of wrestlers who came to me is a single fact that they believe the old ways are dead. That what worked for those of us who were wrestling at the close of the millennium rather than being born around that time won't work now. Patience, timing, slowing things down. You've seen my career! You've seen me go through the exact process to get to this point. It isn't broken, it was the culture that was broken and by the current socioeconomic standings, politics aside we're still in that world. Shocking!"

Feigning shock and amazement, you realize how much Wuher has aged over the time we've seen him in PRW. The wrinkles in his forehead are pronounced and his eyes look a bit more sunken into his skull.

"These runes that line my desk, my skin, my jewelry, my titles, my shirts, all of that other nonsense you've seen that I am behind has a purpose. These are examples of the old ways! These are examples of ritual, tradition, religion and sacrifice. All of which are things that my opponent at Summerfest lacks. He might have his God. His Christ. His down country home grown cooking from mama, but what he lacks is RESPECT!. Mrs. Owens, your son wasn't beaten enough as a child, mark my words. Since she didn't do the job, I have to now."

Shifting in his seat, he knew what he had just said. He knew how close to the heart his words would be taken.

"The reason why I have a match, after being gone since 2012 mind you not the 8 years you've supposed, is because the front office has some sort of regard and respect for helping them jump into the position they are in today. You might have an inside track when you were one of the first champions EVER in this company. I'm sure Professional, Spardis, and whomever decided to come back in the annals of our history would be welcome back just as I was. Assuming they're not Hutton Brown."

That name. That damned name. You know he curses it still. Grudges are unhealthy, but some just don't want to let go.

"At Summerfest, in all it's glory, I will face you my friend. I will break your bones, rupture your internal organs and grind your bones into dust. There will be no coming back from the beating I'm about to bestow on you. You will be a different man. You will learn some humility. Some respect. For your elders, those in charge, and for your poor sweet mama."

"As for the rest of you, see you Saturday! Follow us on social media and see you then! Til Valhalla Comes!"


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