(The tap-tap-tapping of boot heels rap on the linoleum of an empty hallway. White robe shreds sweep over top snakeskin boots as the camera rises up, show Joshua Rapture strolling under ceremonial white robes in the hallway of his fitness center. It is eerily quiet, the only two sounds are the echoes of forward motion and a sort of whistling/humming that escapes Joshua Rapture’s throat. He stops at the awning of the hallway and the camera sweeps to showcase the gymnasium, it is completely empty. Joshua sighs and sets down something heavy, then slowly makes his way to a water cooler on the back wall. Joshua takes a paper Dixie cup from a stack next to the cooler and fills it, drinks it quickly, and fills it again. He kicks over the water cooler.)
Joshua Rapture: Nothing. I have been awarded with nothing. Sacrificing my body at Battlebowl. Nothing.
(Rapture walks over to some personal trainers’ desks, throwing personal computers and stacks of paper on the ground angry precision.)
Rapture: Dog Collar Match with Moonwater. Nothing.
(Rapture picks up a coffee cup off one of the desks and throws into at the back wall of the gym, shards exploding everywhere.)
Rapture: Canada Cup… Nothing! And now my final chance to be redeemed? Nothing.
(Rapture pauses on this thought and slowly makes his way to a boxing ring in the corner. In silence, he hops up onto the apron and makes his way into the ring. His fists start clenching uncontrollably, his anger no longer maintained, he paces back and forth as he addresses the camera directly.)
Rapture: I CHOSE to fight. I GIVE you everything. I get… NOTHING. I did it all for YOU, the people of NAPW.
(Rapture makes his way into a corner and sets his hands on the top turnbuckle, grasping, twisting and ripping it away at it.)
Rapture: Do I get applauded? Do get thanked? Do I get ANYTHING that I deserve?? No! I get get spat on and ignored! I don’t even get a fair chance at NAPW title! I’m told that I’m supposed “just follow along” and do everything “according to plan”. WHO’S Plan? God’s Plan?? Because it seems to me that HE (gesturing upwards) doesn’t want anything to do with me.
What about MY plans, huh? MY success, MY career, that title was MINE. It was MY birthright, and it was taken. That title BELONGS to ME. Even before that metal was forged and the leather tanned, it was MY destiny to be THEE WORLD CHAMPION!
(Rapture leaves the tattered turnbuckle and exit the ring, going back to hallway where he left something on the floor. It turns out to be a jerrycan full of gasoline. Rapture untwists the cap and throws it away, turns the can sideways and start to pour over the floor of his fitness center.)
Rapture: What about me, now? What about Joshua Rapture? Abbey Graves goes on to face some young punk kid, conveniently enough. But me? Well that’s the million dollar question isn’t it? “What to do with Joshua Rapture?” Face another punk kid, maybe that freak who thinks he’s a superhero? Gimme a break.
The only person who has peeked my interest is Jay Deschain. Because at least he STANDS for something. Unlike all the rest, who beg and plead for the fans’ acceptance, Jay gleefully rejects it. He has one goal, the NAPW title. And like me, will do anything to get it. Jay, I don’t know whether to shake your hand or punch you in the face but, if you ever stand in between me and the NAPW title again… I will end you.
And to everybody else? Anyone who thinks they can stop Joshua Rapture? Any AT ALL, whether your an old New Dawn member, hotshot wrestling upstart or an established star, who THINKS that Joshua Rapture is not the rightful heir to NAPW’s Championship. I want you all…
(Rapture, now at the exit doors, lights a match.)
Rapture: To Burn in Hell.