Roleplay Roleplay by SYNDICATE
On Mon, Nov06, 2017 11:15pm America/Phoenix
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*A long burst of static is followed by a black screen.  After a few moments, a deep, calming voice - not unlike the voice of Morgan Freeman - rings out.*

V/O: They said it couldn't be done.

*In the darkness, an old tube TV lights up.  The television is situated on a wooden floor in front of a black curtain.*


*The TV, initially filled with static, switches to an image of Rex McAllister talking at the Mercedes-Benz Stadium a few days before Hall of Pain.*

Rex McAllister: So do tell me Iíve accomplished nothing, continue to be ignorant, your grave is getting ever deeper, and you're about to be buried in it. See you soon.


V/O: They showed nothing but disrespect.

*After a short burst of static and another voiceover, the image on the television switches to one of Tommy Lipton walking through the woods.*

Tommy: Syndicates fear is that he is worried he will never be "the man"  that he will never be respected. Perhaps I will stop calling him a kid if somehow he walks out of Hall of Pain The new Champion... Hah as if that is about to happen... kid, get real, you stand there making a fool of yourself.


V/O: They said he wasn't good enough.

*This time, Darkness appears on the television.*

Darkness: That other person would be you Syndicate. The man who proclaims he is the best in the world. The man who swears the Undisputed championship should be around his waist yet here it is around mine.


V/O: They ignored his past.

*Korath pops into view as he visits an ancient crypt.*

Korath: I want you to ask yourself this Syndicate, "Do I want to face the mighty Korath in the final room of the House of Horrors to regain my title and finally say I beat him, or do I want to just curl up and be buried in the backyard like a little bitch?"


*The TV immediately shuts off after Korath's last words, although the room is still lit by an overhead spotlight.  Suddenly, a black baseball bat comes out of nowhere swinging towards the television.  The bat makes contact with the screen, breaking it into a million different pieces that immediately scatter throughout the room.  The baseball bat rattles to the ground, and as it does, the camera pans up to reveal a familiar, smug-looking face as the bat swinger.*

Syndicate: Four men doubted me.  Four men fell at my feet.  And when the dust settled...a five-time World Champion arose.

*Syndicate, wearing his blood-red leather jacket, gray t-shirt, and black denim jeans, holds the Undisputed World Heavyweight Championship over his left shoulder.  A smirk is present on the champ's face as he looks into the camera.*

Syndicate: The "Age of Syndicate" is not yet over, my friends.  In is just beginning.  I'll talk more on Fury this week, but until then, welcome to MY WORLD...and the Syndicate.

*Syndicate chuckles and walks off-camera right.  As he does, the feed is taken over by static.*



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