The beginning of "Requiem for a Dream" slowly creeps up on the XWA fans, accompanied by a titantron that simply has 'HOPE' written in white letters on a black background. The audience begins to boo, in anticipation of the arrival of a returning Robert Hope, someone who has graced the ring with his vile presence before here in XWA. It is safe to say that, bar a few hardcore fans who go against the grain, no one is happy to have the sleazy Hope drag himself out of a drunken coma and in to the ring. The last ever SIW Television Champion takes his sweet time in emerging from behind the curtain, instead electing to allow his music to play out for the fans in attendance.
When he finally does make his appearance, there is something quite different about him. Instead of sporting his old, tattered clothing he did before, he is wearing a thigh-length black coat, trimmed with gold piping. Instead of old, scuffed boots, he wears white, pristine boots. Instead of the grimy old knee pads and trunks he sported on his last visit, he's wearing red trunks with a black band and red knee pads. His hands are wrapped in white tape, and it actually looks like it has been changed, rather than looking like he'd been wearing it for months. Instead of the matted, scraggly mess of hair, he is sporting jaw length hair tied back. Instead of a patchy, disgusting looking beard, he is clean shaven. Instead of stumbling out in a drunken haze, he walks calmly. Collected and completely sober. He almost looks presentable. There is a white light shining down on him from the top of the titantron, following him as he slowly walks to the centre of the stage and sits down, cradling a microphone in his hands. The arena lights cut out as he sits, plunging the whole arena into black, apart from the one spotlight.
His entrance music fades in the background, but does not completely stop. Hope sits and looks down to the microphone, while boos hum from the crowd. He looks unmoved by them, sitting stoic and stone faced and waiting for them to stop. After a while, and when it becomes clear that they aren't going to die out, he begins:
|HOPE| Since you people don't know when to shut your putrid, festering, hate-spewing stink holes you call mouths, I guess I'll just start saying what I have to say.
The boos intensify, and Hope simply shakes his head in disgust.
|HOPE| "Isn't that just what all of you idiots are about. You don't really care about listening, no. All that matters is that your idiot friend next to you can see how cool you are for booing someone like me. Hey, maybe that girl a couple rows back will notice you if you look passionate and involved, maybe she'll join in with you. Maybe she'll come and stand with you and you two will chant and cheer and you'll fall in love, get married and have a wonderful life together. Maybe everyone will see how cool you are and buy you beers and say "yeah, that Hope is a real piece of shit, ain't he?" Maybe your boss will see your true moral values and promote you for booing a scumbag like me. He'll look at you and see a paragon of virtue. I mean, is that it? Is that what is going on psychologically? You need someone like me to boo to make you seem interesting and opinionated? To make you feel better about yourself? To make you look like you care enough to show your disapproval of me? Just because I don't smile and suck up to your dumb asses, is that it?
How about this: what if you'll never be able to fill that empty spot in your heart? Y'know, that one that grows when you see someone like me sitting here, getting paid to do this, while you do nothing with your life. While you work your crappy job, getting paid just enough to survive. Then you come here and disrespect me for the sake of escapism. Well, how about a reality check. That girl I mentioned? You know, the pretty one you noticed? She probably wants to go backstage and get Hope full, if you know what I mean. Those guys around you, they only like you as long as you agree with what they think. Otherwise, you're a nobody. Just a face in the crowd. You'll never do anything of note.
And don't even get me started on your ugly, dumb children. If there was ever a time for The Pied Piper to come and lead children into a mountain, it's now. All these mini-pukes spawned from mommy and daddy puke. What, do you want them to see the magical world of wrestling? The wrestling world is just like the real world, kids. It hurts, it's unforgiving, and very few get to be where they want to be. You're better off embracing mediocrity now and save yourself the disappointment."
The boos become intolerable now, and Hope just cracks a small grin, obviously pleased he got the chance to come back and irritate the XWA fans.
|HOPE| "That begin said, you people are not the reason that I am here tonight. I guess, in a roundabout kind of way, you are; not primarily, though. No, tonight is the end of one journey and the beginning of another. The journey ending being one that was years in the making, and the journey beginning that will stretch on for many many years in the future. Tonight, I bring to you the beginning of the end, and within that end a new beginning. I said, years ago, I was bringing a plague. It was up to you if you paid heed to that warning or you didn’t; many of you ignored or mock me. Now, you’ll reap what you have sown. "
The crowd have grown tired of Hope’s rambling speech and have started a couple of unsavoury chants directed at The Prophet. While the majority join together in a chorus of “BOOOOOOORING!”, a percentage of the crowd opt for the more direct “ASS-HOLE!” chorus. The result is a cacophonous sign that the people are not interested in the snake oil that Hope is selling… Hope simply bites his tongue and ends his speech with:
|HOPE| “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.” Tonight, I begin by destroying Rufus Qabazard and EG Deal. See, it is only in destruction, that you can rebuild and become reborn.
One thing is for sure. When I’m done, I will leave destitution and ruin. I will leave a plaque, like Ozymandias, proclaiming this "I am Robert Hope, Saviour of the Hopeful. Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.”
Hope then drops the microphone to the floor and proceeds to walk down the ramp, as the volume of his music returns.
Subject: PROMO | "An Ode to the Apocalypse" - Robert Hope 
