A video flashed onto the Titantron, interrupting a brief intermission to show a shot of Salem Croft sitting in the stands of Wrestlemania's arena. He was crouched forward, sitting with his forearms on his knees, head down to allow his black bangs to hang in front of his eyes. The venue was quiet, and empty save for Salem. The angle cut back, showing Salem sitting by himself amongst all the empty seats, a gray filter cast over everything as the feed seems to glitch, cutting in and out to show a fully-colored audience cheering and roaring around Salem, like Wrestlemania had already started. These spectators were merely a trick of the camera, however, eventually flickering away to leave the rookie by his lonesome.
"When I first got here...I wanted to be the best." Salem whispered, his voice calm and eerie against the silence of the empty stands. Not bothering to look up, the camera simply cut to different angles around the rookie, who seemed to be staring into his palms. They weren't taped, as per the usual, showcasing the callouses and cuts that marked his fingers and palms. "With these hands, I was determined to fight my way to the top and make my mark as the "Next-Generation Sensation". I thought that, with you behind me, I could be the next World Champion of the WWF:G..."
Lifting his head, Salem looked melancholic as he stared up at the Wrestlemania marquee that hung above the ring. Staring down into the ring, the camera once again cut in and out, showing glimpses of Salem's debut at the previous Wrestlemania, and Cyrus' abandonment of him in the ring, during what was meant to be his first-ever match against "The Dream".
"But you put me on a different path..." Salem said, looking down at his knuckles once again, spliced stills of Cyrus' self-promoting tweets and appearances, accompanying shots of Salem standing alone in his entrances and interviews, awkwardly trying to explain the absence of the man who was supposed to be his manager. "You showed me the avarice of the people in this company...their greed, your greed, it's held down people like me for too long, Cyrus. It wasn't until I saw you for who you really are, that I understood who I really am."
Clenching his fists, Salem's brow stiffened into an intimidating glare, the light of the arena lamps only just catching his dark eyes from behind the black bangs hanging past his forehead. The camera zoomed in towards Salem's visible pupil, the white of his eyes fading into colorful images of Salem with his change jar, assaulting the various individuals both in and out of the ring, a sadistic grin on his face as he stood defiantly on one turnbuckle. Zooming back out, the scene returned to the Charismatic Calamity sitting alone in the aisle, a similar smile on his lips to the one in the previous vision.
"I'm the dark horse of this company...I'm the fresh blood this industry needs to become great again, because I've got the passion and the courage to stand up to those who'd try to hold me back. People like you...clinging to former glory, trying to overshadow the future by reminding us of the past...I'm going to burn the 'Old School' down, with all of you in it. When I win Money In The Bank, there's going to be a tectonic shift in the landscape of this business. Regardless of whether you love me or hate me, you aren't going to overlook me any longer. Cyrus, AJ, Ryan, Jacob...none of them know what it means to live by their own rules. Thus, none of them are willing to do what it really takes to hold that briefcase. I am. That drive, that determination, it's what makes me the Most Wanted Man in Wrestling. It's what makes me Salem Croft. And soon enough...it's going to make me "Mr. Money In The Bank", and your future World Champion. Change is coming...and the Summer of Salem has only just begun."
Standing up, Salem slipped a hand in his pocket and fished out a couple of coins, slapping them down onto the arm of his chair. Two inconspicuous pennies, they'd probably still be there when some unsuspecting fan found their seat during the preliminaries of Wrestlemania. All the same, camera zoomed in on the parting gift Salem had left before his steps were heard clicking against the concrete, fading away. Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the left-most coin was darker than its counterpart, but not to the point that the dates weren't legible. A faded "1989", the year of Salem's birth, coupled with a bright "2013". A heavy door could be heard drifting shut in the distance as the camera faded to black on the two cents, the new coin's shine being the last thing the audience could see before the video ended.
"When I first got here...I wanted to be the best." Salem whispered, his voice calm and eerie against the silence of the empty stands. Not bothering to look up, the camera simply cut to different angles around the rookie, who seemed to be staring into his palms. They weren't taped, as per the usual, showcasing the callouses and cuts that marked his fingers and palms. "With these hands, I was determined to fight my way to the top and make my mark as the "Next-Generation Sensation". I thought that, with you behind me, I could be the next World Champion of the WWF:G..."
Lifting his head, Salem looked melancholic as he stared up at the Wrestlemania marquee that hung above the ring. Staring down into the ring, the camera once again cut in and out, showing glimpses of Salem's debut at the previous Wrestlemania, and Cyrus' abandonment of him in the ring, during what was meant to be his first-ever match against "The Dream".
"But you put me on a different path..." Salem said, looking down at his knuckles once again, spliced stills of Cyrus' self-promoting tweets and appearances, accompanying shots of Salem standing alone in his entrances and interviews, awkwardly trying to explain the absence of the man who was supposed to be his manager. "You showed me the avarice of the people in this company...their greed, your greed, it's held down people like me for too long, Cyrus. It wasn't until I saw you for who you really are, that I understood who I really am."
Clenching his fists, Salem's brow stiffened into an intimidating glare, the light of the arena lamps only just catching his dark eyes from behind the black bangs hanging past his forehead. The camera zoomed in towards Salem's visible pupil, the white of his eyes fading into colorful images of Salem with his change jar, assaulting the various individuals both in and out of the ring, a sadistic grin on his face as he stood defiantly on one turnbuckle. Zooming back out, the scene returned to the Charismatic Calamity sitting alone in the aisle, a similar smile on his lips to the one in the previous vision.
"I'm the dark horse of this company...I'm the fresh blood this industry needs to become great again, because I've got the passion and the courage to stand up to those who'd try to hold me back. People like you...clinging to former glory, trying to overshadow the future by reminding us of the past...I'm going to burn the 'Old School' down, with all of you in it. When I win Money In The Bank, there's going to be a tectonic shift in the landscape of this business. Regardless of whether you love me or hate me, you aren't going to overlook me any longer. Cyrus, AJ, Ryan, Jacob...none of them know what it means to live by their own rules. Thus, none of them are willing to do what it really takes to hold that briefcase. I am. That drive, that determination, it's what makes me the Most Wanted Man in Wrestling. It's what makes me Salem Croft. And soon enough...it's going to make me "Mr. Money In The Bank", and your future World Champion. Change is coming...and the Summer of Salem has only just begun."
Standing up, Salem slipped a hand in his pocket and fished out a couple of coins, slapping them down onto the arm of his chair. Two inconspicuous pennies, they'd probably still be there when some unsuspecting fan found their seat during the preliminaries of Wrestlemania. All the same, camera zoomed in on the parting gift Salem had left before his steps were heard clicking against the concrete, fading away. Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the left-most coin was darker than its counterpart, but not to the point that the dates weren't legible. A faded "1989", the year of Salem's birth, coupled with a bright "2013". A heavy door could be heard drifting shut in the distance as the camera faded to black on the two cents, the new coin's shine being the last thing the audience could see before the video ended.
