I see that you are not currently registered on our forum. It only takes a second, and you can even login with your Facebook! If you would like to register now, pease click here: Register
Once registered please introduce yourself in our introduction thread which can be found here: Introduction Board
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly. You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
(A haze of smoke billows across the screen. The eerie silence of the open plains is pierced by a slight crackle of fire, and the chirping of crickets. The setting starts to shake violently as it transforms to show an aerial shot of San Francisco, then further swirls around to show the Chase Center. The screen turns red and shakes even more violently and turns to black for a few seconds. The flicker of a flame illuminates the setting, and we see Norman Namatjira, sitting amongst a circle of totem poles, the red earth beneath him glowing in the shadow of the flame.)
Norman:Fire is a thing of beauty. It’s a majestic symbol of power. Fire brings life, fire takes life. Fire brings pain but provides comfort, warmth, tranquillity.
(Norman inhales deeply)
Norman:Daniel Christian knows the beauty of fire, and the threat it poses. It was my duty, my honour, my privilege to put him down once and for all.
[Highlights of the barbaric ending to the match at Saint Patrick’s Day smash, including the second fireball]
Norman:With Daniel conquered and writhing around in the stench of burning, melted flesh – the picture once again came clear. My focus narrowed and memories returned. It was time to run it back at Shinzo Omega.
[Highlights of Norman appearing at the end of the tag match by ringside, being revealed as the Top Gun’s new monster]
Norman: The satisfaction of wrenching his leg into the unforgiven steel, hearing the bone crack under the immense force, and the most intoxicating of all – the screaming wails of pain. Those screams are like ecstasy, and it’s a feeling I need time and time again.
[Norman has a tape recorder, and he presses play. The screams of pain emanate from the device, a recording of Shinzo’s screams. Norman’s smile grows]
Norman:Back home we have a moral obligation to cast aside the weak. Shinzo Omega is the epitome of weak. He’s frail, he’s vulnerable, he’s mentally weak. Many months ago I told Shinzo it could have been about respect, but he chose to spit in the face of my ancestors and on that night, his eventual fate was sealed. Drive and determination has returned with every time I hear those screams akin to a bitch. I could play that recording over and over again and it could sustain me for eternity – but....
[Norman stops mid-sentence, closes his eyes, and lowers his head]
Norman:But I am forever haunted by one sound that beats louder than anything. The sound is a constant reminder of my failure, of my disillusion, of my inability to achieve my goal. The sound I speak of, is.....is....
[Norman lowers his head further, closes his eyes tighter, and his fists and head start to shake with rage]
Norman:That wallowing sound of pity and anguish is when the referee at Rush Hour spoke the word....”TEN.” Ten. A unit of place value. The first two-digit number. A constant, burning reminder deep in my soul that contributed to the beginnings of my failure.
[Flashback video to the final sequences of Shinzo/Norman at Gold Rush, and Norman failing to answer the ref’s count to get back into the ring]
Norman:This night that signified that I had Shinzo right where I wanted him. And to be stopped by the count of a referee just haunts me. It consumes me. It consumed me so much that in the Bunkhouse Stampede, all I wanted was revenge and it led to me losing my focus. The loss of focus was fatal and I lost the match. Shinzo was winning the mind game. But then....then Top Gun came along. Discussions in the shadows. Clarity and renewed focus. First victim was Daniel Christian. With the fireballs and bone-crushing offence, I reminded this company, this roster, and the entire world just how dangerous I am.
[Flashback videos of Norman’s work in Australia, being arrested and banned from multiple promotions. Random assaults throughout communities. The day he signed his AMA contract, and the sickening smile that he was indeed home]
Norman:Daniel Christian was an unfortunate victim of circumstance. Wrong place, wrong time they say. I like Daniel. He hasn’t offended me. He hasn’t pissed me off. And Shinzo Omega....this is where things change. I hate everything about you. Your look, your voice, your moves, the fact that you think winning on a technicality in some-way makes you better than me. No, no, no. I will not stand for that any longer. Satisfaction was had when I drove your leg into the ring barricade and felt the leg crack. I heard your screams burn into my skull. I was satisfied. But not satisfied enough.
[Norman opens his eyes, and casts them towards the flame that has been burning. He is performing a traditional smoking ceremony. He inhales the smoke, and waves the branches around the circle, illuminating the poles.]
Norman:No, complete satisfaction comes in two ways. One is to win the AMA Championship. Two is the ultimate end to Shinzo Omega. Shinzo has a history of critical mistakes. Mistake 1 was not putting me down at Gold Rush. He left my heart beating. Mistake 2 was leaving his tag partner at Saint Patrick’s Smash, showing he is vulnerable. Mistake 3 was suggesting the Texas Death Match. What did you think that would accomplish, Shinzo? Intimidation? Fear? Panic? Hahahahaha. Shinzo, I relish in the thought of a Death Match. No pins, no submissions, anything goes, no limits and more importantly – no countouts. Shinzo, you will have to physically stop me, and not escape with a technicality.
[Norman starts slapping his thighs, his chest, his face]
Norman:This time around, Shinzo, I will prove once and for all that I am the Alpha. I will prove that I am the most dangerous man walking this planet. I will have my vengeance. This time around, when the referee utters the word “ten,” I will have complete salvation. My release. I will have my sustenance. I will complete my journey and stand atop of the world.
[Norman is now standing up in warrior pose]
Norman:SHINZO OMEGA! At Gold Rush, it was business. Tonight, it’s personal. I’m coming to the Death Match to claim the championship and end you. I will do all in my body and spirit to achieve this mission.....or I will die trying.
[Norman then smears black soot over his face. The soot coming from the remains of the burned Omega photo from months ago. Norman then extinguishes the flame with his bare hand].
The distant echoing sounds of uneven footsteps ping pong through the large dim hall that forms Shinzo Omega’s lair. A rustic and ornate gold candelabra hosts a trio of thick red candles shining light on Shinzo’s large wooden table carved out of a gargantuan oak tree. A worn burlap sack of smallish size, its top end bound and wrapped with a hemp rope in a crude knot, sits upon the left hand side.
Clomp..Cl.Clomp…Clomp…Cl.Clomp…Clomp…Cl.Clomp!
Shinzo Omega’s large and hunching silhouette is seen hobbling from one end of his nearly obscure chambers to the other, favoring his right leg which had further been assaulted at the hands of Norman Namatjira. The Dharawal Warrior was the very same man he would be facing in San Antonio at Under Attack.
Clomp..Cl.Clomp…Clomp…Cl.Clomp…Clomp…Cl.Clomp!
Shinzo Omega now pivots and faces towards the oak slab and begins to approach it. The illumination from the candles bring forth a more defined personage than its previous eerie shadow revealed to the naked eye. Despite his posture being hindered by his grievously wounded knee, Shinzo stands menacingly large as he approaches closer. An onyx colored vest sits atop of mountainous shoulders and draping loosely over his exposed tattooed chest and torso. A very obvious and rudimentary brace is attached around the right knee, reaching high up his thigh only a few inches under his wrestling trunks. The sounds of his heavy wrestling boots continue to drown out any silence as he reaches the oak table.
THUMP!
Shinzo brings his right palm down on the table with ferocity resulting in the aforementioned piercing thud. A completely stone face Shinzo stares almost hypnotically across the table as if reaching the viewer, whomever he or they may be, directly. His one eye, as we have observed as of late, shares red and blue in its pupil representing the now controlled chaotic violence tempered in Shinzo’s soul. He then raises his left arm and from his hand produces a mysterious golden coin. He takes his time holding it up and observing it, having it dance between his knuckles playfully before laying it flat on the table in front of him. He passes his right hand through his thick and tangled beard once before beginning his speech.
“Norman Namatjira, The Dharawal Warrior. You seem to be a man who cannot remove himself from the past. You seem to be a man driven by tradition. And for those reasons, I’d like to start by telling you a story, Norman. A story about The Boatman.”
Shinzo’s bassy voice is almost soothing yet characteristically stoic as he recites the words he has been harboring to get out since the events of Saint Patrick’s Day Smash unfolded.
“The ancient Greeks have a tale about a boatman named Charon. Charon lived in the Underworld by the river Styx and had a single job. He was a ferryman, you see, and he was in charge of taking poor unfortunate souls from the empty shores of purgatory across the river Styx to the underworld. And without paying his toll, well, you would be doomed to wander those shores, lost for eternity.”
“And that’s what you are Norman, a doomed lost soul trapped living in the past. Your failures to move passed a single loss to yours truly has completely warped not only your sense of honor, but your entire moral compass.”
Shinzo picks up the coin he laid flat earlier on the table.
“Souls that made their way to the River Styx had to pay Charon a toll of one golden coin as a tribute. Did you know that the Greeks often put such coins in the mouths of their deceased in hopes they could pay the boatman and cross safely to the other side. What a nice thought, don’t you think? Peace after death.”
Shinzo throws the coins behind him and we hear it bouncing and clinging for a few hops before disappearing into the darkness.
“You won’t be needing a gold coin to pay your tribute Norman. That’s the very reason I chose to challenge and bait you into a Texas Deathmatch. Don’t you see it's much more than just defending this?”
Shinzo moves the bottom half of his vest aside to reveal the AMA Grand championship title belt around his waist. He unbuckles the straps behind him and places the golden and jewel encrusted masterpiece on top of his right shoulder. He taps the large faceplate once with his left hand.
“Norman this is about hurting you and sending you to Hell!”
Shinzo’s demeanor while stoic and calm up to this point suddenly and unexpectedly intensifies.
“This isn’t just about exacting the same amount of pain and suffering you’ve put me through, it’s also about the ones you’ve chosen to victimize along the way! This fight has no rules, no pinfalls, only pure unadulterated violence. And Norman, had you done your homework instead of licking the boots of the former Agency and praying to false gods, you would know that violence is my natural element!”
“At Under Attack I’m making you pay the Boatman’s toll with your blood!”
Shinzo nearly foams at the mouth as beads of saliva pepper the air, his dramatic scream reverberates throughout the dank hall. He drops both his hands palm down on the oak and bows his head forward, attempting to regain his composure. Incrementally he lifts his head, inch by inch, like a lagging gear in need of oil.His eyes once again make contact straight in front of him.
“You like to play with fire don’t you?”
A rhetorical question referring to Norman’s penchant for throwing fireballs at his victims. Shinzo slickly shifts to the left and grabs the burlap sack and meticulously unravels the knotted rope bounding it. He then slides it to the right exposing its contents bare for all to see.
“I wanted to show you a few mementos from past wars.”
The brooding grappler picks up the first object: a pair of scorched hand wraps. He brings them into the light.
“These hands were wrapped in the wrathful flames of hatred. They went toe to toe with Pariah. I have already been blessed by the flame, I thrive in the heat of battle.”
These are indeed the remnants from Shinzo and Pariah’s epic Taipei Deathmatch at Mayday. He places them back into the bag and picks up the second item and brings it closer to the light. It appears to be a common zippo-type lighter.
“Before they were Top Gun, they were The Hamad Agency. I used this very lighter to burn their office to the ground. You should ask them about it, I’m sure Max Maverick still loves talking about me. They are no more, and I’m still very much standing.”
Shinzo grins devilishly and brings the lighter back inside the burlap container. Before it disappears inside its side is illuminated showing off a red omega symbol. He brings forth the final item towards him but its odd shape is difficult to decipher initially. This doesn’t appear to be a familiar item we have seen before and is much larger in size. He strangely brings the object to his face with both his hands and cranks his neck to the side, as if adjusting something. He finally brings his hands to the back of his head momentarily and looks forward once more.
Sitting on his face is a harshly carved mask made of what can only be the top half of a human skull. Shinzo’s eye pierce through holes that were once eye sockets as the half skull mask covers down a few millimeters over his nostrils. He raises both his arms high in the air and produces a gleeful cheshire smile.
“Norman Narmitja I sentence you to meet The End by Texas Death! In San Antonio all will bear witness to the Grand Champion suffocating your cursed and corrupted fire!”
He leans in close to the burning candlestick and all is quiet for but a moment.
“The Boatman Cometh, pay up!”
Shinzo Omega blows out the candles with a loud exhale plunging the room into pure darkness.
