Post by Brandon Hendrix on Nov 15, 2021 21:08:02 GMT -5
Dallas, Texas, the infamous home of Revolution1's own Brandon Hendrix. We find ourselves at the familiar farmhouse that sits at a high rise directly in the outskirts of Dallas. The camera pans around to a farmhouse full of trophies and memorabilia. For an cursed child who came from nothing, the young man has already earned riches and prizes that can set him for a lavish lifestyle for the rest of his tenure in this world. Yet it’s always been apparent, it’s not the paycheck that keeps Brandon going. A lone black chair sat in front of his large plastered glass windows is where we find “The Don”. A glass of Jameson whiskey in his right hand, he looks over his city. He begins speaking to the camera however does not break his glaze out the window.
"Do you ever question what is it that keeps you going? Why do you wake up each and every morning, put on your clothes and go to your job and continue to do exactly what you did the day before? For months now I’ve found myself in a near, comatose state, questioning why do I continue to step in that ring. I used to believe I did it for the money. One year in wrestling and movies and I was set for life. Then I believed it was the drive to be the very best in the world. I’m a movie star, former Champion. I have a smoking hot girlfriend and I'm slowly becoming a household name in wrestling. Yet I’m still here, waking up every single morning, putting those boots on and going to work. Why? I believed maybe..... I wanted to make this company a better place. I wanted to make it stronger, make the other competitors better than they are now. Then it hit me.... to do that, I truly have to win the World Championship. I said this last week, and the week before probably. But it remains true."
"And last week, I became a step closer. Last week, Sara Pettis and I main evented Sin, and we were tearing down the roof off that arena, with Damien Carter, Sin World Champion, watching the match. So close to winning, but at least I didn't suffer the loss. One… two… three.."
Brandon raises the glass, taking a quick drink, finishing the glass entirely. He pulls himself to his feet, a hulking mass of a man. He’s prided himself for the year on dominating his opponents not just physically but mentally as well. He begins walking across the large open room towards an open bottle that he has, pouring himself another glass.
"Match ended in a draw. Then, you make your presence known, laying me out. Congratulations Khaos, you laid out two tired wrestlers after they just went to war. But, putting yourself in the right place at the right time is why you're the Sin World Champion. Now, if you want, you can come out and watch my match versus Jalen Prince. I want you to sit at ringside, in the crowd, at commentary, I don't give a fuck how you do, but you're going to watch me rip right through Jalen Prince at Sin. It started with Scratch Strange, it went through Brandon Rivera, then Sara Pettis."
Brandon now walking down a hallway, looks at one of several pictures placed in a glass trophy case. One of which being the match between Jason and Jason Ryan, the match that sent Brandon to his near grave. The two have a storied history and are one of the most violent relationships in wrestling history. He continues his speech, the drink in his hand, his eyes fixed on the framed photo.
"Jalen, you see this photo? Me laying on the mat, gasping for the little bit of air that I could take in? The moment that made me seem weak. The small instant that made me seem like my world was ending. That's not me."
Quick clips suddenly flash across the screen of Brandon Hendrix in recent his year inflicting pain upon and dominating the wrestling landscape. Arguably one of the most physically dominant stars of his time. We suddenly in a quick flash return to the skyline where Brandon sits upon his black chair. This time he is face to face with the camera. His eyes blood shot, the glass once again empty. He looks deep into the camera with a cold glaze.
"I'm going to defeat you Jalen. I'm going to run through you as well in order to complete the destiny handed down to me from a Hall Of Fame wrestler. I'm going to Spear you, cover you, and listen to the referee count that one...two….three. I’ve been watching you for sometime now. You are an enigma. Someone they say that is not to be trifled with. I am a man who’s not to be trifled with. You are a boy, hiding behind cheap theatrics and bullshit you try to bring to this match."
Brandon Hendrix stares deeply into his glass. He holds it tightly, strangely a Bad Influence logo can be seen at the bottom of the clear glass. A memory of where Hendrix has called his own over the past eight months.
"This I truly believe is destiny. Sadly, this will not be a beautiful clash of the titans. I’m going to fuck you up. I’m going to beat and batter you for my destiny. Truly consider the facts that I don’t respect you, in fact I almost hold a disdain for everything you are about, and at Sin, I beat you then I go and get my shot at the World Championship. And there is nothing you can do to stop it Jalen."
"I like to offer you my condolences… I'm sorry for using you on my way to the big one."
He takes a rest back into the chair. He looks directly out into the world, the very same streets he at one time found himself sleeping on. What a twisted tail that the city that once tortured him, he now lies above in its blue skies. Brandon's message has been sent to Jalen and Damien has become an almost personal affair for one “Based God”.
"Do you ever question what is it that keeps you going? Why do you wake up each and every morning, put on your clothes and go to your job and continue to do exactly what you did the day before? For months now I’ve found myself in a near, comatose state, questioning why do I continue to step in that ring. I used to believe I did it for the money. One year in wrestling and movies and I was set for life. Then I believed it was the drive to be the very best in the world. I’m a movie star, former Champion. I have a smoking hot girlfriend and I'm slowly becoming a household name in wrestling. Yet I’m still here, waking up every single morning, putting those boots on and going to work. Why? I believed maybe..... I wanted to make this company a better place. I wanted to make it stronger, make the other competitors better than they are now. Then it hit me.... to do that, I truly have to win the World Championship. I said this last week, and the week before probably. But it remains true."
"And last week, I became a step closer. Last week, Sara Pettis and I main evented Sin, and we were tearing down the roof off that arena, with Damien Carter, Sin World Champion, watching the match. So close to winning, but at least I didn't suffer the loss. One… two… three.."
Brandon raises the glass, taking a quick drink, finishing the glass entirely. He pulls himself to his feet, a hulking mass of a man. He’s prided himself for the year on dominating his opponents not just physically but mentally as well. He begins walking across the large open room towards an open bottle that he has, pouring himself another glass.
"Match ended in a draw. Then, you make your presence known, laying me out. Congratulations Khaos, you laid out two tired wrestlers after they just went to war. But, putting yourself in the right place at the right time is why you're the Sin World Champion. Now, if you want, you can come out and watch my match versus Jalen Prince. I want you to sit at ringside, in the crowd, at commentary, I don't give a fuck how you do, but you're going to watch me rip right through Jalen Prince at Sin. It started with Scratch Strange, it went through Brandon Rivera, then Sara Pettis."
Brandon now walking down a hallway, looks at one of several pictures placed in a glass trophy case. One of which being the match between Jason and Jason Ryan, the match that sent Brandon to his near grave. The two have a storied history and are one of the most violent relationships in wrestling history. He continues his speech, the drink in his hand, his eyes fixed on the framed photo.
"Jalen, you see this photo? Me laying on the mat, gasping for the little bit of air that I could take in? The moment that made me seem weak. The small instant that made me seem like my world was ending. That's not me."
Quick clips suddenly flash across the screen of Brandon Hendrix in recent his year inflicting pain upon and dominating the wrestling landscape. Arguably one of the most physically dominant stars of his time. We suddenly in a quick flash return to the skyline where Brandon sits upon his black chair. This time he is face to face with the camera. His eyes blood shot, the glass once again empty. He looks deep into the camera with a cold glaze.
"I'm going to defeat you Jalen. I'm going to run through you as well in order to complete the destiny handed down to me from a Hall Of Fame wrestler. I'm going to Spear you, cover you, and listen to the referee count that one...two….three. I’ve been watching you for sometime now. You are an enigma. Someone they say that is not to be trifled with. I am a man who’s not to be trifled with. You are a boy, hiding behind cheap theatrics and bullshit you try to bring to this match."
Brandon Hendrix stares deeply into his glass. He holds it tightly, strangely a Bad Influence logo can be seen at the bottom of the clear glass. A memory of where Hendrix has called his own over the past eight months.
"This I truly believe is destiny. Sadly, this will not be a beautiful clash of the titans. I’m going to fuck you up. I’m going to beat and batter you for my destiny. Truly consider the facts that I don’t respect you, in fact I almost hold a disdain for everything you are about, and at Sin, I beat you then I go and get my shot at the World Championship. And there is nothing you can do to stop it Jalen."
"I like to offer you my condolences… I'm sorry for using you on my way to the big one."
He takes a rest back into the chair. He looks directly out into the world, the very same streets he at one time found himself sleeping on. What a twisted tail that the city that once tortured him, he now lies above in its blue skies. Brandon's message has been sent to Jalen and Damien has become an almost personal affair for one “Based God”.
