"I want to conquer the world"

I Want to Conquer the World

Posted by Taylor Dawkins <mailto:cerealbriskduke@msn.com> on 7/29/2001

He felt bad, sitting in his locker room, laughing. Laughing at someone's efforts was the lowest form of belittling someone, and here he was, doing just that. Belitting the APA for being incapable of beating him, and belitting Boyce for being inept.

On second thought... it felt good; DAMN good

Yeah... t'was a good night indeed...

Suddenly, without any knock of courtesy, his dressing room door swung open, and there stood Hal Keating, the new errand boy for the RWA. His cautious eyes caught Dawk's, and for a second, he stood completely still

Umm, Mr. Dawkins... matches for Tuesday have been announced...

Dawk swallowed slowly, nodding his head easily, as he rose to his feet like the mythical phoenix from the ashes

That a fact? Well, you better hope I like what I hear. Last guy that crossed me... well, you know... that whole mother in a Sanka can ordeal...

Hal nodded, biting his lower lip

Yeah, YES... sir. Yes sir. I uh, understand. Hopefully you won't be too angry

Hopefully indeed

Well, it's been signed that you're gonna be taking on, uhh... Justine Madrox for the InterContinental championship...

His voice had trailed off towards the end, as he grew hesitant that the man standing seven feet away would lunge. Instead, the uneasy smile across Dawk's face turned into a sh't eating grin, which then evolved into a chuckle, before settling into a hideous cackle

Oh really?!? That's rich... That's rich, definitely. It wasn't bad enough that I hurt his wife; now I have to wrestle the sister, huh? And Boyce must really think I'm going to lose or something, cause I KNOW that the LAST thing he wants... is to hear the announcer screaming, And NEW RWA InterContinental champion, TAYLOR DAWKINS! I mean, you know that, don'tcha?

Hal nodded, but only because he valued his life

Yeah, Boyce doesn't seem to be too keen on you, Mr. Dawkins

Ha! Not too keen, huh? Yeah, I guess you could say that. Here, I tell ya what... just do me this favor...

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a crisp, clean, Andrew Jackson. Hal eyed it, and stutter stepped backwards

Oh, no, Mister Dawkins, I couldn't do that. I'm just telling the boys their matches for Tuesday

Dawk raised a hand to silence the nervous kid

No, I want you to have it. Here's what you do... just, when you go back to Boyce's office, you let him know that I'm REALLY looking forward to a nice, clean, SCIENTIFIC match with Justine... and you tell him that I hope he's watching ringside, and that I'LL even buy HIM the tickets, cause that's the kind of guy I am... you do that, and we'll make no mention of this little twenty spot I'm giving ya, okay?

Hal debated in his head who would hurt him more... Boyce financially for helping Dawk, or Dawk physically for NOT helping. In an instant, he snagged the greenback, thanked Dawk, and split. Dawk turned slowly, and walked towards his gear bag, packing up the final tid bits

I'm REALLY looking forward to that match...

And with that, he was finished in the arena. He won his match, and he was winning his war. Hell, even Tommy Levi couldn't ruin THIS. Besides, Saturday, he was going to ruin Levi.


				*The Legend Of Tommy Levi* *"I want to conquer the world" - Dawkins*



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		I Want to Conquer the World Posted by Taylor Dawkins <mailto:cerealbriskduke@msn.com> on 7/29/2001 He felt bad, sitting in his locker room, laughing. Laughing at someone's efforts was the lowest form of belittling someone, and here he was, doing just that. Belitting the APA for being incapable of beating him, and belitting Boyce for being inept. On second thought... it felt good; DAMN good Yeah... t'was a good night indeed... Suddenly, without any knock of courtesy, his dressing room door swung open, and there stood Hal Keating, the new errand boy for the RWA. His cautious eyes caught Dawk's, and for a second, he stood completely still Umm, Mr. Dawkins... matches for Tuesday have been announced... Dawk swallowed slowly, nodding his head easily, as he rose to his feet like the mythical phoenix from the ashes *That a fact? Well, you better hope I like what I hear. Last guy that crossed me... well, you know... that whole mother in a Sanka can* ordeal...** Hal nodded, biting his lower lip Yeah, YES... sir. Yes sir. I uh, understand. Hopefully you won't be too angry Hopefully indeed Well, it's been signed that you're gonna be taking on, uhh... Justine Madrox for the InterContinental championship... His voice had trailed off towards the end, as he grew hesitant that the man standing seven feet away would lunge. Instead, the uneasy smile across Dawk's face turned into a sh't eating grin, which then evolved into a chuckle, before settling into a hideous cackle Oh really?!? That's rich... That's rich, definitely. It wasn't bad enough that I hurt his wife; now I have to wrestle the sister, huh? And Boyce must really think I'm going to lose or something, cause I KNOW that the LAST thing he wants... is to hear the announcer screaming, And NEW RWA InterContinental champion, TAYLOR DAWKINS! I mean, you know that, don'tcha? Hal nodded, but only because he valued his life Yeah, Boyce doesn't seem to be too keen on you, Mr. Dawkins *Ha! Not too keen, huh? Yeah, I guess you could say that. Here, I tell ya what... just do me this favor...* He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a crisp, clean, Andrew Jackson. Hal eyed it, and stutter stepped backwards Oh, no, Mister Dawkins, I couldn't do that. I'm just telling the boys their matches for Tuesday Dawk raised a hand to silence the nervous kid No, I want you to have it. Here's what you do... just, when you go back to Boyce's office, you let him know that I'm REALLY looking forward to a nice, clean, SCIENTIFIC match with Justine... and you tell him that I hope he's watching ringside, and that I'LL even buy HIM the tickets, cause that's the kind of guy I am... you do that, and we'll make no mention of this little twenty spot I'm giving ya, okay? Hal debated in his head who would hurt him more... Boyce financially for helping Dawk, or Dawk physically for NOT helping. In an instant, he snagged the greenback, thanked Dawk, and split. Dawk turned slowly, and walked towards his gear bag, packing up the final tid bits *I'm REALLY* looking forward to that match...** And with that, he was finished in the arena. He won his match, and he was winning his war. Hell, even Tommy Levi couldn't ruin THIS. Besides, Saturday, he was going to ruin Levi.