- Dan Hammer
- Posts : 119
Join date : 2022-10-05
Hammer Time!
Tue Oct 01, 2024 9:05 am
The scene opens in the packed arena of the Path 2 Glory ‘Dream On 4’ pay-per-view.
The atmosphere is electric, the crowd buzzing in anticipation of what’s to come.
Suddenly, the arena lights dim, and a single spotlight hits the entrance ramp.
The ominous theme music of Dan Hammer, the “Tasmanian Terror,” blasts through the speakers, shaking the building to its foundation.
The crowd’s reaction is mixed—boos from the doubters, cheers from the believers—but all eyes are locked on the entrance as Dan Hammer makes his way to the ring.
He walks with deliberate, methodical steps, his presence commanding respect—or fear.
As Dan steps through the ropes, the spotlight remains on him, emphasizing the intensity etched into his face. He’s dressed in his signature black and green gear, the colors of The Firm.
There’s no mistaking the tension in the air.
He stands in the center of the ring, microphone in hand, glaring out at the audience.
There’s no theatrics, no wasted motion.
Just Dan Hammer, ready to address the challenge that has been thrown his way.
The crowd falls silent, awaiting the first words from the Tasmanian Terror.
Dan Hammer: So… here we are. Dream On 4.
The biggest night in Path 2 Glory.
A night that should’ve been about me, the main event, the one man who’s been carrying this place on his back since day one.
But instead?
Instead, we’ve got a situation where some no-name, some nobody from outside this company… thinks he can come in here and call me out?
Dan pauses, his face contorting in disbelief.
His voice is low, measured at first, but the menace is unmistakable.
Dan Hammer: Doc Holiday, huh?
Who the hell are you?
Some jumped-up piece of trash that thinks because he put on an expensive suit and acts like a wannabe gangster, that you can step into MY yard and disrespect me?
The crowd murmurs as Hammer’s intensity begins to rise.
His eyes narrow as he paces the ring, his voice gaining an edge.
Dan Hammer: You think I don’t see through you, Doc?
You walk in here, strutting like you’re something special, like you’re dangerous.
You think that suit makes you somebody?
Like you’re a real tough guy just because you threw a few dollars at your wardrobe?
Let me tell you something, mate—you’re nothing but a sheep in wolfs clothing.
A wannabe.
You’re no gangster.
You’re no threat.
Dan stops pacing, turning back to face the camera, his expression darkening further.
Dan Hammer: You want to talk about danger?
You want to talk about being tough?
You’ve got no idea what that even means.
You’ve never walked the roads I’ve walked.
You’ve never fought in the places I’ve fought.
I didn’t get to the top by playing dress-up or pretending to be something I’m not.
No. I’m the real deal.
The Hobart Hammer.....
The Thunder from Down Under......
They don't call me the Tasmanian Terror for no reason.
His voice drops to a growl, the venom in his words palpable.
Dan Hammer: I’ve traveled the world.
From my humble beginnings in Hobart to MAIN EVENTING pay-per-views in every major promotion across this planet.
Every ring I’ve stepped into, I’ve left a trail of broken bodies behind me.
Every single one of them thought they could stand toe-to-toe with me.
Just like you.
And every single one of them learned the hard way that Dan Hammer doesn’t leave survivors.
I don’t care where you come from, I don’t care who you’ve fought before.
Tonight, you’re stepping into MY world, MY yard and it’s going to be the last mistake you ever make.
Dan begins pacing again, his steps heavier, more deliberate.
The intensity in his eyes has gone from smoldering to blazing as his words cut deeper.
Dan Hammer: But you know what, Doc? This isn’t just about the fact that you showed up. No. What really gets under my skin… what really makes my blood boil… is that you had the gall, the nerve, to stand there and disrespect me.
You want to make a name for yourself at my expense?
You think you’re gonna walk in here and challenge the best in the world like it’s nothing? Nah, mate, it doesn’t work that way.
Hammer’s face twists into a sneer, his voice dripping with disdain.
Dan Hammer: You see, I don’t respect you, Doc.
Not one damn bit.
You’re a joke.
A sideshow.
A distraction.
An unnecessary, undeserving diversion.
From what i've been told, you’ve been wrestling in backwater, hillbilly crap holes, minor league shit pits.
And.......
And, you think you can come here, to Path 2 Glory, to MY house, and make waves?
Hell, maybe after tonight I’ll track down whatever dingy, little rat-infested hellhole you call home and dismantle it piece by piece.
I’ll tear it apart just like I’m going to tear you apart.
The crowd is completely silent now, hanging on Hammer’s every word as his anger builds to a fever pitch
Dan Hammer: Doc Holiday.........
He sniggers to himself
Come to think about it, the only ‘Doc Holiday’ I’ve ever heard of is that washed-up, dying, drunk from the movie Tombstone.
And if I remember correctly, he wasn’t much to look at either—just some over-the-hill, fading piece of crap, well past his mediocre best.
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
But I’ll give that Doc one thing—at least he knew his time was up.
You?
You’ve got no clue, do you?
You’re walking into a nightmare, mate.
A nightmare you won’t wake up from.
Dan Hammer steps closer to the camera, his face filling the screen, every muscle in his jaw clenched with fury.
Dan Hammer: Just look at yourself mate.
You think that suit makes you important........respected.........dangerous?
You think flashing some cash makes you tough?
Nah, mate.
You’re nothing but a fraud.
A little boy playing dress-up, pretending to be something he’s not.
I see right through you.
That suit?
It’s just a costume.
You wear it because you’re scared.
Scared of what you know is coming tonight.
Scared of what happens when you step into the ring with a real man.
A real fighter.
A real 'Legend'
Hammer’s tone becomes more intense, more aggressive with every word.
His voice reverberates throughout the arena as the crowd watches in tense anticipation.
Dan Hammer: "Because when you step into that ring with me, you’re not stepping into a wrestling match.
You’re stepping into a war.
And I promise you, Doc, you’re not coming out of it the same.
You think you’re walking into this place to take me down, to make a name for yourself? Nah.
Here's a spoiler for you.
You aint walking out mate.
All you're doing is cluelessly walking into your own damn funeral.
Sadly, for you.
You’re just too stupid to realize it.
Dan leans in, his face a mask of cold fury.
Dan Hammer: You don’t belong here.
You don’t belong in Path 2 Glory.
And you sure as hell don’t belong in the same ring as me.
You might’ve fooled some people with that fancy suit, with that slick talk, but not me.
I know what you are, and it’s nothing.
You’re nothing.
The crowd begins to stir as Hammer’s words hit their mark, the tension in the air thickening with every second.
Dan Hammer: So tonight, when that bell rings, I’m not just going to beat you, Doc.
I’m going to humiliate you.
I’m going to make you wish you’d never heard the name Dan Hammer.
And when I’m done with you?
When you’re lying there, broken, defeated, wondering what the hell just happened—remember this moment.
Remember the moment you thought you could step into MY world and come out the other side.
He pauses
Dan Hammer: You don’t get to disrespect me.
You don’t get to disrespect The Firm.
Eddie London, SilvaDog, Sophie Desire—we’ve run roughshod over this place from day one. You walk in here, throw your name in the mix, and expect to be relevant?
Nah, mate. The Firm doesn’t just run Path 2 Glory.
We own it.
We’re the most dominant force in professional wrestling, and tonight, you’re going to learn what that really means.
Hammer steps back, his breathing heavy, his eyes burning with intensity as he delivers his final words.
Dan Hammer: Doc Holiday, after tonight, you’re going to be nothing more than a footnote in the history of Dan Hammer.
You’re going to be just another body left broken in my wake.
So enjoy this moment while it lasts, mate, because it’s the last time anyone’s going to give a rats arse about who you are.
IT'S TIME........
IT'S TIME........
IT'S HAMMMMMMMMMERRRRR TIME!!!!!!
The crowd roars as Hammer drops the microphone with a thud.
The camera zooms into a close up of his face.
A look upon his face akin to that of a stone cold serial killer.
He lets out a roar before exiting the ring and heading to the back to get ready for his match.
The atmosphere is electric, the crowd buzzing in anticipation of what’s to come.
Suddenly, the arena lights dim, and a single spotlight hits the entrance ramp.
The ominous theme music of Dan Hammer, the “Tasmanian Terror,” blasts through the speakers, shaking the building to its foundation.
The crowd’s reaction is mixed—boos from the doubters, cheers from the believers—but all eyes are locked on the entrance as Dan Hammer makes his way to the ring.
He walks with deliberate, methodical steps, his presence commanding respect—or fear.
As Dan steps through the ropes, the spotlight remains on him, emphasizing the intensity etched into his face. He’s dressed in his signature black and green gear, the colors of The Firm.
There’s no mistaking the tension in the air.
He stands in the center of the ring, microphone in hand, glaring out at the audience.
There’s no theatrics, no wasted motion.
Just Dan Hammer, ready to address the challenge that has been thrown his way.
The crowd falls silent, awaiting the first words from the Tasmanian Terror.
Dan Hammer: So… here we are. Dream On 4.
The biggest night in Path 2 Glory.
A night that should’ve been about me, the main event, the one man who’s been carrying this place on his back since day one.
But instead?
Instead, we’ve got a situation where some no-name, some nobody from outside this company… thinks he can come in here and call me out?
Dan pauses, his face contorting in disbelief.
His voice is low, measured at first, but the menace is unmistakable.
Dan Hammer: Doc Holiday, huh?
Who the hell are you?
Some jumped-up piece of trash that thinks because he put on an expensive suit and acts like a wannabe gangster, that you can step into MY yard and disrespect me?
The crowd murmurs as Hammer’s intensity begins to rise.
His eyes narrow as he paces the ring, his voice gaining an edge.
Dan Hammer: You think I don’t see through you, Doc?
You walk in here, strutting like you’re something special, like you’re dangerous.
You think that suit makes you somebody?
Like you’re a real tough guy just because you threw a few dollars at your wardrobe?
Let me tell you something, mate—you’re nothing but a sheep in wolfs clothing.
A wannabe.
You’re no gangster.
You’re no threat.
Dan stops pacing, turning back to face the camera, his expression darkening further.
Dan Hammer: You want to talk about danger?
You want to talk about being tough?
You’ve got no idea what that even means.
You’ve never walked the roads I’ve walked.
You’ve never fought in the places I’ve fought.
I didn’t get to the top by playing dress-up or pretending to be something I’m not.
No. I’m the real deal.
The Hobart Hammer.....
The Thunder from Down Under......
They don't call me the Tasmanian Terror for no reason.
His voice drops to a growl, the venom in his words palpable.
Dan Hammer: I’ve traveled the world.
From my humble beginnings in Hobart to MAIN EVENTING pay-per-views in every major promotion across this planet.
Every ring I’ve stepped into, I’ve left a trail of broken bodies behind me.
Every single one of them thought they could stand toe-to-toe with me.
Just like you.
And every single one of them learned the hard way that Dan Hammer doesn’t leave survivors.
I don’t care where you come from, I don’t care who you’ve fought before.
Tonight, you’re stepping into MY world, MY yard and it’s going to be the last mistake you ever make.
Dan begins pacing again, his steps heavier, more deliberate.
The intensity in his eyes has gone from smoldering to blazing as his words cut deeper.
Dan Hammer: But you know what, Doc? This isn’t just about the fact that you showed up. No. What really gets under my skin… what really makes my blood boil… is that you had the gall, the nerve, to stand there and disrespect me.
You want to make a name for yourself at my expense?
You think you’re gonna walk in here and challenge the best in the world like it’s nothing? Nah, mate, it doesn’t work that way.
Hammer’s face twists into a sneer, his voice dripping with disdain.
Dan Hammer: You see, I don’t respect you, Doc.
Not one damn bit.
You’re a joke.
A sideshow.
A distraction.
An unnecessary, undeserving diversion.
From what i've been told, you’ve been wrestling in backwater, hillbilly crap holes, minor league shit pits.
And.......
And, you think you can come here, to Path 2 Glory, to MY house, and make waves?
Hell, maybe after tonight I’ll track down whatever dingy, little rat-infested hellhole you call home and dismantle it piece by piece.
I’ll tear it apart just like I’m going to tear you apart.
The crowd is completely silent now, hanging on Hammer’s every word as his anger builds to a fever pitch
Dan Hammer: Doc Holiday.........
He sniggers to himself
Come to think about it, the only ‘Doc Holiday’ I’ve ever heard of is that washed-up, dying, drunk from the movie Tombstone.
And if I remember correctly, he wasn’t much to look at either—just some over-the-hill, fading piece of crap, well past his mediocre best.
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
But I’ll give that Doc one thing—at least he knew his time was up.
You?
You’ve got no clue, do you?
You’re walking into a nightmare, mate.
A nightmare you won’t wake up from.
Dan Hammer steps closer to the camera, his face filling the screen, every muscle in his jaw clenched with fury.
Dan Hammer: Just look at yourself mate.
You think that suit makes you important........respected.........dangerous?
You think flashing some cash makes you tough?
Nah, mate.
You’re nothing but a fraud.
A little boy playing dress-up, pretending to be something he’s not.
I see right through you.
That suit?
It’s just a costume.
You wear it because you’re scared.
Scared of what you know is coming tonight.
Scared of what happens when you step into the ring with a real man.
A real fighter.
A real 'Legend'
Hammer’s tone becomes more intense, more aggressive with every word.
His voice reverberates throughout the arena as the crowd watches in tense anticipation.
Dan Hammer: "Because when you step into that ring with me, you’re not stepping into a wrestling match.
You’re stepping into a war.
And I promise you, Doc, you’re not coming out of it the same.
You think you’re walking into this place to take me down, to make a name for yourself? Nah.
Here's a spoiler for you.
You aint walking out mate.
All you're doing is cluelessly walking into your own damn funeral.
Sadly, for you.
You’re just too stupid to realize it.
Dan leans in, his face a mask of cold fury.
Dan Hammer: You don’t belong here.
You don’t belong in Path 2 Glory.
And you sure as hell don’t belong in the same ring as me.
You might’ve fooled some people with that fancy suit, with that slick talk, but not me.
I know what you are, and it’s nothing.
You’re nothing.
The crowd begins to stir as Hammer’s words hit their mark, the tension in the air thickening with every second.
Dan Hammer: So tonight, when that bell rings, I’m not just going to beat you, Doc.
I’m going to humiliate you.
I’m going to make you wish you’d never heard the name Dan Hammer.
And when I’m done with you?
When you’re lying there, broken, defeated, wondering what the hell just happened—remember this moment.
Remember the moment you thought you could step into MY world and come out the other side.
He pauses
Dan Hammer: You don’t get to disrespect me.
You don’t get to disrespect The Firm.
Eddie London, SilvaDog, Sophie Desire—we’ve run roughshod over this place from day one. You walk in here, throw your name in the mix, and expect to be relevant?
Nah, mate. The Firm doesn’t just run Path 2 Glory.
We own it.
We’re the most dominant force in professional wrestling, and tonight, you’re going to learn what that really means.
Hammer steps back, his breathing heavy, his eyes burning with intensity as he delivers his final words.
Dan Hammer: Doc Holiday, after tonight, you’re going to be nothing more than a footnote in the history of Dan Hammer.
You’re going to be just another body left broken in my wake.
So enjoy this moment while it lasts, mate, because it’s the last time anyone’s going to give a rats arse about who you are.
IT'S TIME........
IT'S TIME........
IT'S HAMMMMMMMMMERRRRR TIME!!!!!!
The crowd roars as Hammer drops the microphone with a thud.
The camera zooms into a close up of his face.
A look upon his face akin to that of a stone cold serial killer.
He lets out a roar before exiting the ring and heading to the back to get ready for his match.
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