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  1. #1
    Striving for a B+ in life
    The Golden One's Avatar

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    Orlando, Florida
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    Post promos here for Back in Business X. Promo deadline is Wednesday, April 29 at midnight pacific time, which is Thursday, April 30 at 3 a.m. eastern time and 8 a.m. British time. That is seven (7) full days, plus 16 hours.

    No extensions and no exceptions.

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA World Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    7x FWA Tag Team Champion

    2020 North American Sports Poster Of The Year

  2. #2

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    Barrows Mansion, Romsdalen, Norway
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    The scene opens with a flustered Sarah Dubois and quiet Humanity sit at a desk inside his Locker Room.

    S-Several people!? I-I don't know if I can h-handle that! Th-there's people b-bigger than meeee! Wh-what if they b-beat me up!?

    Humanity: Uh... that's the point of wrestling? They're going to try and kick the crap out of you, Sarah. You can't let them though. Remember, the first step to being a wrestler is to not be afraid.

    Sarah: B-but that's against one opponent!!! W-we're t-talking a gazillion o' them!

    Humanity: No we're not! We're just talking fourteen-o'-them.

    He said this in his usual sarcastic, mocking tone. He even went as far as to copy her Manitoba accent.


    She nearly slammed her head onto the desk they were sitting at in frustration. She's never had to fight several people before. In fact, she's only had one match! Now, she has to fight many others, some with YEARS experience ahead of her. There are even BOYS in the match who are going to rip her to shreds! She knew she was walking into an ass kicking and a half, but hey, at least she wouldn't be alone... she'd be there with her mentor, who in her mind was the sweetest and most patient person she's ever met, Humanity. (Who also was the harshest teacher you've ever seen, though Sarah would tell you otherwise.)

    Humanity: Look, treating it like the worst thing in the world won't get you anywhere. You need to be brave and think to yourself that you can get past this with a win. A little belief in yourself can go a long way.

    Sarah: Just... believe in yourself? I-I dunno... I'm just so s-scared...

    Humanity sighed quietly, he knows that feeling all too well.

    Humanity: We're pretty alike I guess. I used to be petrified every time I entered that ring. I sometimes even forgot what I was doing. This one time... ah nevermind. My point is, even the best of them are scared. They'll deny it though. Ryan Rondo, Danny Toner, Phillip A. Jackson, Wolf, DIVINE... Chris Kennedy, Me... even Gabrielle!

    Sarah: Even Gabrielle!?

    Humanity: We all have our fears. I face mine every day. Where you're scared of disappointing me and others, I'm scared that the monster inside of me will kill.

    It was there that it was Brian speaking the whole time, but Sarah never could tell the difference between the two men in one body. Strange girl that one.

    Sarah: Did... did my father ever have any fears...?

    Brian shifted uncomfortably, unwanting in answering the question. He knew she was stubborn however, and nodded.

    Brian: Yes. Losing you, actually. He didn't want to lose you.

    Sarah couldn't believe her ears. Here was her mentor, talking about the man who gave birth to her. He also was the man who disappeared without a trace when she was eleven.

    Sarah: S-so he's just like me...

    Brian: See, if you accept your fear, you can use it to become even stronger. You can use it for victory.

    Sarah looked up at Brian, who had that special glint in his eye that meant passion. She couldn't help but smile, feeling comforted by him.
    She felt the confidence he had in her flow into her body.

    I understand now... I'll d-do my best for you, and for me.

  3. #3
    Striving for a B+ in life
    The Golden One's Avatar

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    Most people don't really listen to their opponents, rivals, feud-mates when they talk. Do you think Jason Gryphon was listening to Michael Garcia, or vice versa, when they ended Fight Night resurfacing the years-old feud? Do you think "The Emerald" Drew Stevenson was really paying attention to Gabrielle Montgomery's words, or the FWA World Champion worrying herself with the North American Champion, last week on Fight Night?

    No. Not many people REALLY listen to what their rivals have to say.

    Shannon O'Neal is one of them, though.

    Taylor Toxic stood there, microphone in hand, before the FWA Women's Champion. She stands motionless in the corner as Taylor Toxic enters the ring, spouting off childish jokes about her tattoos and segueing into the main point.

    "You showed me fear."

    That sentence stung like a wasp landing on an arm's skin. Shannon O'Neal didn't wince, didn't close her eyes and grimace, didn't snicker back or snarl at Taylor Toxic. She took it right on the chin, but her insides were turning. Her head was racing with possible responses, easy quips to diffuse Taylor Toxic's remarks.

    She found none.

    And the only logical, well-constructed mental retaliation Shannon O'Neal had was the most surprising one. As Taylor Toxic ended her monologue, dropping the microphone and continuing the verbal jabs as the challenger to the champion, Shannon O'Neal thought to herself one simple thing.

    You're right...I have fear.

    I'm scared...

    Shannon O'Neal has one place of solitude. It's cliche, really. The grungy boxing/wrestling/fighting gymnasium looks like one straight out of "The Wrestler" or "Rocky" or some other classic or pseudo-average movie. The dust spreads like a cloud of powder with each smacking against the exterior of the punching bag. The chain attached from the bag to the ceiling dangles and slides against itself, another noise filler in an otherwise-silent setting. The Sunset Strip sunlight peers through the blinds of the room, three rectangular windows on one side of the room, two on the back wall with a unisex bathroom in the corner. Two more windows on the other side, split apart by the management office, and two more of the same-style windows surrounding the front wall with the entrance door in the middle.

    The ring sits a little to the back of the square building, with two punching/kicking bags on either side and a sparring station in the back. The wooden tile is a little dangerous for bare feet, because of splinters and loose wood chips and nails, but does the job and is easy for the 75-year-old manager to clean up each day ... or two, depending on his energy level.

    The last is the walls around the windows, with some posters of fighters and match fliers advertising this gym's fighters and boxers. Some are wrestlers. Some are MMA competitors. Some are boxers. They fill the walls, one next to another, about 20 in all. Some are black and white, showing the gym's age as a staple of Los Angeles. Some are color, showing the gym's ability to stay current and relevant. At 9 a.m. each day until about 7 p.m., this place is bustling with potential champions, new professionals and the works. Everyone is working, from Judo specialists to kickboxing clinics to amateur wrestling workouts.

    But this time of day is 6 a.m. and there is only one person in the gym.


    It's Wednesday, April 29, and there are only four more days until Back in Business X in the Rose Bowl, arguably the greatest sporting venue in the world and the place where Shannon O'Neal defends the FWA Women's Championship against the upstart rookie, Taylor Toxic. She has a sense of urgency. With each kick to the bag, Shannon gives an audible expression showing her force. She quickens the pace, trying to churn out kicking strikes as fast as possible.

    "Mnh.....Mnh...Mnh..Mnh..mnh..mnh..mnh..mnh. AAAH!"

    The last had all the force in the world behind it, and Shannon O'Neal settles herself, breathing heavy and sweating drops of fat glands down from her forehead to her jaw. She bends at the knees and is about to rest her hands there, hunched over, but remembers the best way to intake oxygen is remaining straight up. So she does so, straight like a tree, and locks her hands together on her forehead like a kid making himself into a flat-topped steeple. She walks around, catching her energy for the next phase of her workout.

    "Why this place, Shannon?"

    The fit blond swings herself with eyes big as grapes. She smiles, looking to the door and seeing an older lady, about 50 years old, standing in the doorway with a male not much older. The lady has blond hair, strikingly similar to Shannon's own, and even more tattoos than the FWA Women's Champion sports on her arm sleeves. The man has grey hair, a bulge for a beer belly and a round face that fits Shannon's own pudgy cheeks.


    A warm embrace is enough to fill the silence as Shannon disregards her sweaty self to hug her parents. They don't mind, either, having not seen Shannon O'Neal for at least a year and a half, if not more. Her dad views the landscape of the place, never having seen it before. Her mom, though, simply looks at it and offers a turned lip like she's admiring it's stagnant features, which she's viewed many times.

    "So is this the famous Fortune Gym you talked so much about?"

    "This is it. 7574 Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, California. Momma' knows this place well. She's been inside a few times."

    "And picked you up from here for work."

    "I got to see your old bar. The Roxy. Not but two miles down the road."

    "Yeah, it wasn't a bad walk in the good months."

    Shannon turns around and waves for her mom and dad to follow. She begins the tour of the one-building land with the punching/kicking bag she was working on, the trio laughing at the imprint from Shannon's fist and foot. Then the ring. Then the office, along the right wall. The door is cracked open, and Shannon shows the duo the cot next to the desk. Her dad goes wide-eyed with half surprise and half worry.

    "That's where you slept? For how long?"

    Shannon's mom knew about this. Shannon stayed in the gym for the final three months in Los Angeles before signing with the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. She helped manage the gym around her shifts at The Roxy and in her pick-up rock band. She also only had to pay $150 in rent and had an easy walk to go work out.

    Telling her dad the story makes him a little upset, but Shannon's mother derails the conversation to a better topic.

    "I remember picking her up from work and having to get someone to tell her to come on two or three times. She'd just be going at it, either sparring or at one of these bags or in the ring. You could tell she found a love.


    How did you get in today?"

    "I still have an extra key."

    Shannon O'Neal catches up with her parents inside the ring, leaning against the ropes and just talking and laughing. Shannon's dad still lives in Lafayette, Indiana with Shannon's aunt, her dad's sister. Shannon's mother and father aren't technically divorced, even though they separated some 20 to 25 years ago when Shannon's mom left town, but they've both moved on with their lives. This is the first time they've been in each other's presence in nearly 15 years, and the first time Shannon has seen her dad in more than a decade. She saw her mom as recent as the last night in Los Angeles before catching the bus to Seattle for her first FWA event.

    Plus, her mom is on Facebook. Her dad? Not so much social media desire in small Midwestern towns.

    "I'm just glad you two could make it to see me at Back in Business. Y'all haven't been to see me yet. Momma' not so tough for ya' since ya' live down the road. Dad, I'm glad you made it. I hope work is OK lettin' ya' off for the rest of the week."

    You could tell from the look that Shannon means a lot to both her mother and father. They both are proud of her, proud of how much she fought to make a life for herself and proud of how far she has pushed.

    "Do y'all wanna' see the championship belt?!"

    Shannon sounds like a little girl showing her parents a toy she found at school, or the grade on a big test. She steps through the ropes and opens her workout bag. Her dad says he is surprised she has the championship with her. Shannon pulls it out, gold plate and all, with the leather strap clamped together forming the circle.

    "I bring it anywhere I go, if I can."

    Shannon's mother and father both admire it, and it's returned to the champion's tight, controlling grip.

    "I'm scared of losin' it."

    Her dad offers the logical response.

    "Why, Shannon? No one will take it."

    "Hah, in the FWA, that's certainly possible."

    Shannon returns it to the workout bag before returning to the ring. Her mother and father are ready to listen, as it seems Shannon has a lot on her mind to be working out at 6 a.m. in the morning at her old gym.

    "This girl, Taylor Toxic, was talkin' last show about how I showed her fear. She said I showed it the show before, when I cost her a match against Gabrielle Montgomery. I know y'all ain't too up to date on names and stuff, but I can at least get it off my chest. She said I showed fear...and I kind'a do, the more I think about it. I fear losin' to her. Not because I'm worried I ain't good enough, but 'cause she's certainly good enough to beat me. I don't wanna' lose that belt. It's all I got to make me somethin' in the FWA."

    Shannon paces the ring, her dad and mom leaning in corners while Shannon seems to be talking to both at the same time. She handles this by either switching her gaze from one to the next, or splitting the difference and staring down at the bottom rope between her parents.

    "I just ... I don't wanna' let this be it. I won that championship from hard work, makin' myself from nothin' to somethin' special. Y'all remember the phone calls. I was determined, driven, I felt I finally found myself here. I beat Saddle Sally at Mile High to win the Women's Championship. Then I beat Gabrielle Montgomery at Trial By Fire, the culmination of many months of talkin' and spittin' jabs back and forth. I proved a point that night, proving somethin' about females in the FWA and their place among men and among the Goddess.

    Then it was back to business, and now it's Back in Business. I beat Zoey Ellis at Winter Wasteland, won the ladder match at Carnal Contendership and have Taylor Toxic next. Who knows what lays ahead, not that it really matters. The curse of bein' the champion of a division, of all the females in the FWA, is once you fend off one challenge, another is waitin' there. Y'all know the saying, "Hired to be fired"? That's what it's like bein' champion. You win it to lose it. One day, I won't be the best in the match and I'll lose. That scares me. I don't wanna' lose the belt."

    Shannon O'Neal looks down at the ring canvas and then out beyond at her gym bag. She has a hunch to walk over, open it up and feel for the championship belt, just to make sure it's still there. Shannon stops herself, though, to avoid the obsessive behavior.

    "So, yeah, I went out to the ring and tripped Taylor Toxic when she faced Gabrielle. I went out there and tripped her. I grabbed her damn foot and cost her the match. Why? Because I'm fearful of losin' the championship. I'm not scared of Taylor, but I wanna' have any edge I can to help me win. I don't wanna' lose. That's normal, right? It's OK to fear this, right? Taylor called me out on it, and told me she saw fear in me costin' her the match. I didn't want her to get the same level of victory as I did, one against the FWA World Champion and the best female in the FWA. I didn't want her to get what I had, to negate my accomplishment.

    And she called me on it. And y'all know what? I'm OK admittin' those things. I think it's OK. I think it's healthy. I think it's good to say it. I ain't hidin' from myself or what I want. I wanna' be FWA Women's Champion when Back in Business finishes. I wanna' be FWA Women's Champion as long as I can, as long as my talents and intelligence and good fortune will let me."

    Shannon allows a second to breath, just enough time for her mother to interject her own words of praise and belief.

    "We believe in you, Shannon. Being scared of losing something you like is natural."

    Strangely, we now notice Shannon's parents don't have the same accent or speech deficiencies she popularly exposes during her promos and show segments. Shannon's mother speaks eloquently, for a bartender on the Sunset Strip, and her father expresses a certain intelligence far beyond a car mechanic from Indiana.

    Shannon notices this, too, and hints that it's not how she remembers her parents.

    "We want you to know we're proud of you, Shan. You're our champion, whether you win or lose. Remember that."

    Her dad offers the same comforting cushion as Shannon O'Neal copes with her fears just a few days before Back in Business X. She looks down at the ring canvas and then around the gym, her old home and the place she worked so hard for months to prepare herself for the FWA opportunity. She made the most of it so far, but thinks back to all those early mornings waking up before bartender shifts to get a sweat in.

    Remember, Shannon is a fighter, not a wrestler. That's how she came to the FWA, and that's how she remains.

    "Thank y'all. I know I can do it. I know how hard I worked and how much I wanna' win, and how much I don't wanna' lose. Taylor Toxic's time is comin', but Back in Business ain't that time. She's a great fighter, cut from the same cloth, but I'ma do my damn best to make sure I leave the champion and she learns the hard way it's a tough road to become it.

    I learned how to fight for what I want ... from the best parents in the world."

    Shannon turns back around to face her mother and father in the ring, but her warm, comfortable smile changes to a nearly tear-inducing slumped mouth. The other side of the ring is empty. Shannon looks and doesn't see her mother of 50 years old, or her father slightly older. She doesn't see anyone, except an empty gymnasium that she knows all too well.

    Her mother died a year ago of lung cancer. Her father died three years ago of heart failure.

    Shannon closes her eyes and tries to force her imagination to re-envision her parents before her, but it doesn't work. A small inkling of tears build up just above Shannon's bottom eyelid, and it eventually grows enough to capsize between her dark eyelashes and down her cheek, interrupted by a stingy wipe with her hand.

    The breathing becomes cracked, Shannon on the brink of losing her emotions and breaking down completely into tears, but she forces it back with two deep breaths and a swallow.

    "I just wish y'all could'a seen me once.

    I'm scared of losing my championship...

    like I lost y'all."

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA World Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    7x FWA Tag Team Champion

    2020 North American Sports Poster Of The Year

  4. #4
    God of Destruction
    Wolfs Rain's Avatar

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    It's black. All black. Complete darkness. Then a spotlight. The beam pierces through the cold nothingness and the platform is revealed. Our exact location is unknown. It is also irrelevant. The heavy thud of black army-style boots can be heard. The contours of a specter become visible. A paradox. The thing that dwells in the empty space between here and nothingness clears it's throat. He steps into the light and viewers probably cringe when they realize that a tattered American flag has been thrown over his shoulders. The Usurper does not look into the camera with arrogance but with defiance. The dark mask on his face, he looks down at his garment and begins.

    The Nameless: I never quite understood how so many people can just throw their lives away for a cause that does not belong to them. Hmm... perhaps I should clarify. The need for battle has forever been part of humanity. It's this lust for the fight that has driven man to accomplish marvels beyond what any other species can ever fathom. You see, man is a savage beast and most dangerous of all - but then - it's all part of the natural scheme of things. Man however has convinced himself that he is beyond such crude and primal elements. Instead, he's weaved an impenetrable web of illusions to justify the monstrosities he's devised - the greatest perhaps would be the guise of heroism.

    He takes a moment to reflect and he weighs each word in his mind. The self-proclaimed king of professional wrestling begins to pace back and forth while looking up into the blackness of space. Perhaps he draws inspiration from the void.

    The Nameless: Although I feel that the ideal of heroism has poisoned the minds of our children in an attempt to subjugate them to the horrors of a world that will only abandon them once they've accomplished their given task; I still value and respect those who came before us and who fought for my right to express whatever depraved machination I can come up with without being incarcerated. Having said that, I also believe that man has a tendency to go beyond reason and can be a shameless creature indeed. You see, it is my firm belief that men like Ghost hide behind these ideals in order to lie their way into the hearts of millions. Spewing venom into the ears of our children. Fight for your country. Fight for your loved ones. Fight for what's right. Fight for Truth... how honorable; how inspiring...

    He stops for a moment and brings his black-smeared finger tips up into the air and tilts his head as he stares into them. Who knows what this gesture can signify for the Nameless creature. He smirks and turns his head to the camera.

    The Nameless: ... but we know it's nothing more than a crock, don't we? What we're doing is sending our children out there to die so people like Ghost can continue to live a lie... Ghost is a man who speaks of integrity when he lacks the humility to admit his own faults. Perhaps it's because of your own shortcomings that you now see yourself "slip down the ladder". Yet you cling onto past accomplishments for fear that you may never excel past these achievements. I can see right through you, Ghost. And I'm afraid that, what I see is a broken man. A man who's obsessed over glory and gold; you watch as they both slip from your fingers and along with them, your mental stability. You try to make sense of it all; how can I be slipping? Why am I falling further down the ladder? I'm afraid that you too have fallen victim to a system that no longer honors it's heroes. The facade can no longer hide The Truth. And just like you, Ghost, the ideals and values of an entire nation is cracking. The pressure has finally caught up with you, Ghost. Your narrow views of what I am capable in the squared circle will ultimately lead you to another defeat.

    Then The Nameless goes silent.

    The Nameless: A man who stands alone against the rest of the natural world. Is that how you truly view yourself, Ghost? I don't see how a man who's been cheered on by millions can make such a claim but whether or not this has been the case is rather insignificant. However, it is prophetic don't you see Ghost? Your prophecy will come to pass oat Back in Business where you will be standing alone against a pure subject of an unrefined world. I'm afraid that you're right, Ghost. I am a depraved man that hides under the guise of etiquette but in reality I am nothing more than the sum of a savage world. I spiteful world. A world that you, and men like you have helped create... I am a reflection of what you and so many other try to keep buried deep inside...

    He nods to himself approvingly as he resumes his pacing.

    The Nameless: I know more of the human psyche than most of you would like to give me credit for hmm. And so many believe that I do not belong here, in FWA. Even more can't stand the fact that The Movement successfully climbed the ladder as quickly as we have. They would rather blame it on a poor choice of opponents. Or perhaps others would like to consider luck in regards to our everlasting success in the company. I see that you are no different, Ghost. People like you would rather have me around so they can blame and point fingers at when things don't go their way all while taking away the credit I have rightfully earned. I must say, I'm surprised you've also fallen victim to such a ploy and by doing so you've actually proved a point I've been trying to make for weeks now. Not only do you take away from me but you also take away from the competitors that we have bested. Meanwhile, people who have been in this business longer and have fought harder than you suffer silently. You do this without shame. Without integrity...

    The camera pans out and he now see him in full. The Nameless holds but only one arm behind his back. Meanwhile, he makes gestures with the other in reflection to his speech.

    The Nameless: ... and so all that's left of Ghost is his intensity. Will that be enough? When the man standing before you has taken away your integrity and your intelligence, can intensity alone secure you the win? Or will it all come crashing down like a pack of cards, Ghost? Will the pressure finally get to you? And when it does, what happens then? Oh so many questions, Ghost. Questions you've brought up yourself as you slowly slip down this ladder of yours. Come Back in Business, your greatest challenge will not take form in the man standing across the ring from you. Oh no I'm afraid not. Instead, your greatest enemy lies within. You've torn at your own pieces and have sacrificed your ideals for something that you no longer quite truly grasp... I, unlike anyone you've ever encountered, welcome the PAIN; the sorrow; both children of the hate that festers deep inside you. I welcome oblivion... But once you are done driving your fists into my skull - my blood dripping from your knuckles - I shall stagger to my feet and offer my arms warmly for despite all your shortcomings, Ghost, I accept you... Fail to realize this and... well... I'm afraid I will be forced to do to you what I have done to the countless others who have come before you. Instead of ascending to an entirely different level of consciousness, I will leave you beaten and bloody in the middle of the ring; broken and confused, plunging deeper into self-doubt. I will either pick up the pieces then, or maybe I'll just leave you there to rot?

    The camera pans out and he now see him in full. The Nameless holds but only one arm behind his back. Meanwhile, he makes gestures with the other in reflection to his speech.

    The Nameless: The choice is yours, Ghost. I know it isn't an easy one to make. After all, this can potentially be a career-altering move; one that would send shockwaves throughout every locker room in every company but that's what you want isn't it? To have so many others speak your name as if it were something that still inspires fear. Join us, Ghost and allow yourself to be part of a group which truly appreciates a man of your talents. A group that encourages you to seek out new ways to express whatever sick, twisted and perverted work your mind aspires to; a group that will finally rid FWA of all the superstars that are not worthy to be here. There is no denying your true self now is there? What you are is an artist. A sick individual who's found home in a sideshow that encourages the kind of depraved violence you've taken part in time and time again. All we ask is for to come home Ghost. Deep down inside, you know that this is where you belong. It is the next logical step and denying yourself this opportunity would be a grave mistake.

    He chuckles.

    The Nameless: Either way, Ghost... join us or watch as we tear away at everything you've worked so very hard to accomplish. Join us or become nothing more than a speck of dust in the sands of time...

    With these parting words, The Nameless takes a couple of steps back while still looking into the lens. A moment later he turns his back to the cameras and places his hands into his pockets. He begins to whistle as he makes his way farther and farther from the scene. Fade to black.

    Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and for thy possession, the ends of the earth. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron. Thou shalt dash them in pieces, like a potters vessel. Be wise now, therefore ye kings. Be admonished ye judges of the earth. Serve the lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling.

    Psalm 2:8

  5. #5
    Mid-Card Champion

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    Saturday, April 25th
    Springfield, Missouri

    Opening up to blue skies and the sound of birds chirping, you could tell that it was a very beautiful day -- one of those days that you just wanted to be outside to take in all of the fresh air and to enjoy the warm, beautiful weather. As the camera pans down from the beautiful blue sky, we see a pair of Black boots walking across the hot concrete sidewalk at a very slow yet methodical pace. Whoever it was seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever.

    As the camera backed up with the figure who was walking to his destination, it began to pan upwards to reveal a man wearing blue jeans and as it further continued to go up, the man also wore a white tank top and it was revealed to be the FWA North American Champion, Drew Stevenson. As the streets are full on this beautiful day, several people honked at Stevenson who waved at them as they drove by and many people who were also walking along the sidewalk waved at him as this is his hometown, a town that he grew up in and a town in which everybody knows his name, kind of like Norm from Cheers.

    Stopping dead in his tracks, Stevenson looks up at an old sign that reads "Stevenson family gym" in basic white lettering and you can tell that the building has been abandoned for a while as it looks completely rundown. After looking up at the sign, he turns to face the camera that is watching him like a hawk -- this very building brings back a lot of memories as you can see by the rather humbled look expressed along his face.

    "As you can see, there is nothing fancy standing behind me. No special graphics, no elaborate scenes, nothing more than the very place that got me started in this business almost ten years ago."

    Placing his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, he stands right in front of the building as all of the memories begin to come back to him.

    "You know, when I got to thinking about it -- I realized that I have never really told anybody in this company about myself, or at least about my past. I mean, sure, you know about my past accolades but this is not about that -- no, this is about getting to know the real Drew Stevenson. Somewhere along the road, Gabrielle has forgotten what it means to be the champion. You see, being the champion is not about having an ego, no, it's about representing this entire industry in the best way possible and as Gabrielle has let the limelight fry her brain, she has forgotten what it means to come from humble beginnings."

    Taking a moment to pause, Stevenson removes his right hand from out of his pocket and stretches out his index finger pointing at the old sign.

    "When I was at the very tender age of seven years old, I was notified by my grandparents that my mother and father had been killed in a car wreck. Now, that's not easy for a child to handle -- I mean, many adults can barely handle that so you can imagine how hard it was for me to handle at such a young age. Anyway, I was taken in by my grandparents who gave me all the love in the world but the one thing that was brought into my life was this business. Yeah, I watched wrestling on television with my grandfather back when I was just a little guy but it was my uncle who was actually in the business that showed me what it really meant to be in this business."

    Nodding his head very slowly, he was very appreciative of his grandparents who took him in and gave him a home when he needed it the most.

    "My uncle retired before I was ever born but after that? He opened up this family gym, the Stevenson family gym and began to train anybody who had the passion and the desire to be in our business. You see Gabrielle, it was never about the championship gold to them, in fact, I bet that less than one percent of the men and women that my uncle trained ever even saw a shot at championship gold. To them? It was about the opportunity, the opportunity to be in the business that they loved, the opportunity to go out there and lay it all on the line for nothing but pride -- something that you have forgotten all about Gabrielle. Yeah, I'm aware that you will forever be etched into this business as arguably the best. I'm aware that as long as you are in the FWA? You will never again have to compete for nothing but pride but that is what sets you apart from the men and women who really love this business. Don't get me wrong, you have busted your ass and you have sacrificed a lot, there is no denying that but somewhere along the road as the FWA Champion? You have completely lost touch with what really matters and have forgotten what brought you to the dance in the first place. Sadly though Gabrielle, that happens to a lot of people who stay on the top of the mountain for too long -- they forget who they were before they had it all."

    Still looking incredibly humbled, Stevenson turns towards the old wooden door of the old family gym. Grabbing a hold of the old rusted doorknob, he turns it and opens the door as it creeks loudly and for the first time in a very long while; sunlight and fresh air enters the old gym. Standing in the doorway, you could still see all of the old equipment used back in the day as well as an old ring that was still set up. The old ring has more memories then many people will ever have memories in general and you can tell just that by the dust that litters the old gray canvas as well as the cobwebs that dangle in between the ring ropes as well as the turnbuckles. Clearing his throat, he keeps his composure to the best of his ability as all of these memories are beginning to flood him.

    "You don't have to say it Gabrielle, I know that I too have been guilty of that in the past. There were times that I was downright an asshole and completely lost track of what got me here in the first place. I can admit that, but can you admit to the entire world that you have forgotten what brought you to the dance in the first place? Truth be told Gabrielle, I don't think that you can and that's because you have allowed your ego to take control for far too long. You have been more concerned with bringing people to their knees and treating them like inferior beings then realizing what you have lost. But that's okay Gabrielle, because I promise you -- at Back in Business X? I am going to show you exactly what you have lost and I am going to make you, the supposed unbeatable goddess have to fight for pride for the first time in a long time."

    Narrowing his dark brown eyes, a great deal of passion could be seen etched along his face. Entering into the gym even further, he begins walking towards the old ring while continuing to speak -- his deep toned voice echoing throughout the gym.

    "Oh yeah Gabrielle, you are going to realize firsthand and better than anyone else exactly what it means for the mighty to have fallen. For too long now, we have had to hear about goddesses and people being inferior and yeah, while it's true that nobody has been able to take that FWA Championship away from you -- what isn't true is that you can't be beat. See Gabrielle, deep down -- you and I both know that not only can you be beat but that you are going to be beat and on the grandest stage of them all, Back in Business. Everybody has listened to you brag about headlining the show, everybody has listened to you attempt to tear me down at every turn and everybody is going to rise to their feet when they get to see firsthand that the goddess has fallen to the Emerald."

    With his voice getting much louder, it was crystal clear that he was fired up and ready to step into the biggest match of his entire career.

    "Go ahead Gabrielle; tell the whole world that I am full of crap. Continue to tell them all the exact same things that you have told them week after week like they have never heard it before because the biggest difference between you and me? Everybody knows what you are going to say, you have become predictable and we all know your life story. That's the biggest difference between you and me Gabrielle; you have been at the top for so long now that everybody is sick and tired of hearing what you have to say. In fact, more often than not? What you say tends to fall upon deaf ears and it's not because the people don't respect you, it's because everybody is sick and tired of listening to you preach on and on about how they are inferior."

    Quickly nodding his head, he knows exactly what Gabrielle would say if she was standing in front of him right here and now.

    "Yeah, yeah, we know -- you are speaking the "truth" or should I say what you perceive to be the truth that is. You see Gabrielle, eventually, every Kingdom falls. That is simply the nature of the beast and if you honestly think for one second that you are immune to that? Go ask Ryan Hall if kingdoms fall, go ask your ex-husband if kingdoms fall. Head on over to Crossfire and ask Devin Golden if streaks end and kingdoms fall and they will all give you the exact same answer and that is because no matter how good that you are? Eventually, everything comes to an end and your end as the FWA Champion is on the horizon Gabrielle, I simply hope that you take the time to enjoy your last days as the champion."

    Having gotten to the old ring a while back, he stands next to it and after finishing with what he was saying -- he turns his attention away from the camera that records him and onto the old ring that he used to run around in back when he was a mere child.

    "Let me ask you a question Gabrielle, do you believe in irony? It's perfectly fine if you don't but there is definitely something very ironic out what is to happen. As I stated earlier, I am almost into my tenth year in this business, the exact amount of time that the FWA has also been around. Don't you think that it's fitting that in my decade of being in this business that I walk out as the new FWA Champion? Of course you don't, you are Gabrielle, the goddess who believes that nobody can take the FWA Championship away from her but another very ironic thing about our match is that I get to end yet another streak."

    Shrugging his shoulders, it was not about ending the streak to him but more about ending the tyranny that Gabrielle has caused everybody in this company. Reaching up and grabbing a hold of the middle rope, Stevenson begins to clear a lot of the cobwebs from off of the ropes while continuing to speak.

    "Truth be told though Gabrielle, it isn't about ending this long streak that you have going as the champion. No, it's about representing this company and reminding everybody where they came from in the first place. I know that you no longer care about any of that, to you, it's nothing more than sentimental crap and shows a huge weakness on my part but you couldn't be further from the truth to be honest with you."

    Taking a moment to pause, he begins walking around the old ring while cleaning the cobwebs off of the old ring ropes.

    "Sometimes we have to go back to our roots to really understand how to proceed forward. After ten years of being in this business? Yeah, I may have forgotten the road that I took once upon a time but I am making up for it here and now when it matters the most. After a decade of sacrifice, after a decade of my blood, after a decade of my sweat and after a decade of my tears -- I am going to prove to every single person here in this company and in this business why I belong here and why you have called me the best for so long."

    After having pulled most of the cobwebs from off of the ropes, he rolls in under the bottom rope quickly getting to his feet as this is the first time that he has stood in the very first wrestling ring that housed him per se in twenty five years.

    "My grandfather who passed away the same night that I won my very first ever world championship? He will be at Back in Business. My uncle who took me in and trained me when he realized that I absolutely love this business? He will be at Back in Business. My grandmother who has been nothing but supportive to this very day? She will be at Back in Business and my very beautiful baby girl, my daughter who has been so understanding when I have had to be away from her for so long? Oh yeah, she will be at Back in Business as well."

    While standing in the middle of this old ring, Stevenson begins to jump around a little bit to loosen up as he is ready to step into that ring right now.

    "You will never understand and you will never see it coming Gabrielle but Back in Business X? It will live up to its motto because I am here to tell you right here and now that yeah, one legend will rise and I promise you, you will fall!"

    Nodding his head up and down in a very slow, methodical manner, he was incredibly determined.

    "To those of you who have supported me throughout my decade of being in this business? Thank you from the bottom of my heart because I am going to repay you now."

    Looking as serious as a heart attack, he narrows his dark brown eyes as nothing but unbridled intensity and passion can be seen expressed along his face. Looking up at the old ceiling, Stevenson closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath as he knows that this is the biggest match of his entire career.

    Everybody took a road to get where they are today, many forget where they came from and some never do. One thing was certain however, Stevenson was going to make sure that Gabrielle remembered her roots, that she remembers the road that she took once upon a time, before she was the goddess...

    ... The road she left behind!

  6. #6
    God of Destruction
    Wolfs Rain's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2013
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      Country                    Slovak Republic


    First, there's blackness. Silence. Then, a voice is heard, heavy and raspy. The words spoken come in rhythmic, deliberate waves, nothing rushed, nothing hurried. Everything in complete harmony, even as the images begin to appear. Images of KAIZEN, standing alone as a blur amidst the shadows. The voice speaks in homage of the man known to the whole of Japan-

    Voice: "It is said that with each generation, there emerges one who will be marked by the everlasting touch of destiny. A man whose convictions and inner strength will drive him through the fires of the darkness and the hardships of the light. Each generation produces one such individual, and then the test begins. This new generation of stars has found that individual. This new age of professional wrestling has found that man. His voice is soft and gentle, yet speaks with the weight of clarity and inner peace. His footsteps are quiet and light, for while he follows in the biggest of steps, he leaves a larger mark in his wake. This is a man from the land of the rising sun, a man whose face is well known. His speed is unmatched. His agility is unparalleled. His desire to win is undaunted. The strength of his heart is immeasurable. He is the premier fighter of the FWA. He is the fastest man ever seen in professional wrestler. And when the heavens above cried his name, a thousand thunders uttered their voices. That name... is KAIZEN."

    Man, what are you watching this shit for?!...


    “I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.” - Groucho Marx

    ...The trick to television is to keep those with the short attention span because if you go on and on, you slow down the activity and make it a chore to watch...and as soon as that happens...


    How is it one ends up this way
    a child never allowed to play
    grow up fast and don't delay
    so now we sit and contemplate
    where we went wrong and should have stayed
    only ourselves we did betray
    our lives once had are gone away
    under control of fear we stay


    Is there really nothing on right now?


    Blackout. There is nothing...It's neither dark nor bright. Concepts do not exist in this world of absolution, the beginning...All thoughts spill out and expands trying to fill the room like gas, never finding an end to the nonexistence.

    Think, Think, Think...but nothing sticks.

    Try to hold on to an idea and it will run from you. Try to form a memory and it will suffocate. Try to observe and you will be blinded. Think, think, think; the frustration begins to build as futility sets in and panic heightens. Hear the woosh of rage ceaselessly continue to fill the void until suddenly...POP!

    ...And it begins. “It's a miracle” says New York Times, “Something to be remembered” says Rolling STONES, “A true work of art” says Playboy, “Eh, it could have been better” says Cosmo. No matter the opinion of critics, it was official: Existence was a success.
    It was a mahogany entertainment center with closed doors. A rustling came from the inside as the doors were thrown open. Ace was sitting inside, cross-legged and shirtless. Wires were wrapped around his arms and neck as the words “Watch Me” were written on his chest as the words “Help me” was written on his face...

    Lucian Ace: I speak for the TVs! For the TVs, they cannot speak for themselves. Used, abused and confused, these machines suffer through an unrelenting onslaught of colors and sounds with a thousand different channels of a thousand different providers for a thousand different people at all hours of the day. They are forced to show us what we want to see as slowly their electric schizophrenic visions grow longer and become more violent by the minute.

    Ace spread his arms wide and touched the sides of the small space. His eyes were wide and crazed with a wide spread smile about his face.

    Lucian Ace: As they stay locked in place either in a entertainment center like a prison, with wires like chains or on a nail like a martyr; we watch and enjoy the tellings of pseudo-true stories of lovers who murder each other (my preferred ending to How I Met Your Mother) and cops beating the shit out of drunks (my other preferred ending to How I Met Your Mother). You are watching a prison that you customized for your own personal liking because you don't care about it's PAIN and suffering.

    He lowered his arms into his lap as he hung his head with a shake and a chuckle.

    Lucian Ace: You say “Oh, it is just an electric box” with no feelings or ideas of its own so we mustn't be worried? You think that is where it ends with TV? With the invention of T.V. We have created an instant viewing of endless other prisons out of the weaknesses of others. We watch men run headlong into each other for a ball and we enjoy it for some explainable reason. We watch people watch internet clips of people falling and smashing their heads against concrete through a screen through a screen. We watch as wrestlers and MMA fighters pound the crap out of each other for titles that mean nothing. So please tell me again how there is no suffering. If you want to ignore it then fine, go back to the mutilated flat screen and keep watching as the weakness of others are exploited for as many eyes as they can get while the unspoken for workers are tricked into thinking they are succeeding in any sense of the word.

    Ace rubbed at his forehead and incidentally smeared the words.Lucian reached up to the top of the entertainment center and lifted himself up to launch himself to his feet on the outside as the wires were torn out from the back and clung to him like chains.

    Lucian Ace: Your goals are someone else's whip, your belief – someone else's steering wheel, your addictions – someone else's spurs...your American dream is the scars on the backs of thousands of men. Do not feed this machine for it is already bloated and hateful, tired and ungrateful, big and disgraceful. You want to believe in a world of respect and equality? Then stop trying to convince yourself and actually make it happen.

    He quickly looked and pointed to the camera as his smile had vanished from his face.

    Lucian Ace: You want to see what this business drives people to do? Then tune into Back in Business. Two men will beat the holy hell out of each other for a thing of leather and gold with absolutely zero real worth.

    Ace retracted his finger as an audible cracking noise was produced. His hand dropped to his side as he tilted his head with a snort.

    Lucian Ace: The fans... the root of all evil. The idea that there is a driving force behind your actions, that what you are doing is not only accepted, but believed in by others around you. It gives you a good feeling about yourself, it swells you with pride. You know, it was not too long ago that I had the support of the people myself, Kai. Had them all eating out of the palm of my hand. Hanging on my every word, sending chills down their spines the second my music started up. Every night I would come out and come down to the ring with my pride on my sleeve, looking for a fight…just like you. And just like you, I had the people all chanting my name night after night. They were waving signs, buying the T-shirts like there was no tomorrow for them. And all it took was the faintest look to send them all into a frenzy before I dove from the top rope or sprung out of the ring or did something to remind them all why they spent their hard EARNED MONEY to come to the arena and cheer people like me…people like you, Kai. I used to come out and indulge them, play to the crowd, give them what they want and tell them all they were my lifeblood. That they were the reason I woke up every morning. They all chanted my name, just like they do yours, Kai. And like you, I believed it. I believed all of it until that one fateful day when I realized that the same people I had been running myself ragged for, sacrificing my body for, these same cretins that I had played to night after night…they were supporting me no longer. I fell on hard times, Kai…and they turned on me. THEY ABANDONED ME, KAI! Abandoned me…and latched onto the next big thing, the next great hope. And when that was exhausted, when the novelty wore off, they moved on! That’s the truth about your beloved people. You come out, debut new music, make them promises of greatness and glory…and they love you for it. They love you because for now, they need you. The novelty has not yet worn away, but when it has…then you will see the truth in each and every one of them. Like addicts, they feed off the PAIN and hardships of us. They revel in it. Each time we crash down to the mat, they yell for more! Each time we bust ourselves open for the sake of a last ditch effort to win, they scream ‘not enough’! They are vampires, Kai. Bloodsuckers each and every one of them and I will indulge them no longer. As for you, do what you will, because the novelty of KAIZEN is about to be worn off.

    His eyes cut over to the camera, slowly followed by a turn of the head.

    Lucian Ace: You are a sacrifice and you are not even aware of it yet, Kai. I heard the pride in your voice, the determination hinged on each and every word and I believe you when you say you want to retain the Championship more than anything on this earth. But these…these people…they will do nothing but lead you to an even quicker downfall. One of the greatest arenas in the universe…peh. Even the weather in this foul country is worth less than a damn! And yet, you dance to their tune. Tailor yourself to their needs. You thrive on their cheers, feed off their excitement and it drives you to want more. Like some junkie riding a neverending high, you want to feel it more and more and more. So you take chances. You begin to think outside the box, you allow these people to influence you, to get you to take that unnecessary risk. To try for one more high impact move when your brain is telling you to look for the pinfall. To rush into the corner with guns blazing instead of moving in carefully and sticking to your gameplan. It distracts you, Kai, because you live for it. Distracted is the last thing you want to be against me. You should know better than anyone that I do not need a very big opening to capitalize on what few mistakes you commit. Every movement matters, because one wrong move and you may be looking at a new Champion. Yes, do not shake your head at the sound of my words, IT IS THAT SIMPLE. While you remain so intent on destroying me, so focused on paying me back and causing as much damage as you can inflict I will be looking for my three seconds. That three second chink in the armor. The three second opening in your defenses. The time I need to win this match and escape with the greatest PRIZE on Crossfire around my waist. Three…little…seconds. That is one wrong glance out into the crowd. Three seconds between salvation and damnation, Kai.

    Staring into the camera now with a look of curiosity, a look that's clearly far from genuine, he moves his hand along as if reading some invisible marquee.

    Lucian Ace: The novelty of KAIZEN is done the moment that bell rings and you stand alone a BEATEN MAN. A man looking for the love and support he has come to expect from the fans. And Kai, those same fans will spit on you. Spit on you because you failed them, because you failed yourself. They will call for your head, turn on you at every possible occasion. And no matter how hard you try, it will never be enough. This is what I am going to do to you, Kai. I am going to lift the rose colored glasses and shine a light on these people for you. I am going to show you first-hand just how far it is to fall from the mountaintop. I have been preparing my body and my mind for YOU, Kai…for the aggression, the power, the technical ability that comes with you. My goal is to create a legacy. Not one born from the cheers and approval of some meaningless souls out in the arena who will never amount to anything in their personal lives! Not one born on friendship and respect! But born on the backs of men like you, Kai. Great warriors who give their all each and every time they set foot into the ring. Men who will fight to their last breath to defend what is theirs just like you will this Sunday. You are destined to fail! Destined because you stand upon the backs of these people you love so much! You count on them to elevate you to greater glory, never once thinking them capable of simply letting go…of letting you plummet to the depths of despair. I will beat you once and for all, Kai. I will take your Championship and I will break your spirit right in front of these fools you draw strength from! I will take my place atop the Crossfire mountain and look down on them as they beg to partake in my grace again! I will watch them turn on you, watch them tear you apart! I will listen as they look up and come to terms with the new face of Crossfire. I am no messiah, but when I am Champion, these people will call for a savior. They will cry for a hero, a new novelty to place their faith into. They will look up and scream ‘Save us’ to the heavens…and I will look down upon them and whisper…no.

    He then cuts his eyes back to the camera, his words laced with hostility.

    Lucian Ace:
    I do not care if you respect me, Kai. Hate me…fear me…get on your knees at night and pray for my downfall with every ounce of faith you have, it changes nothing! I am STILL the future of FWA! STILL the man that will drag one of the most dominant young Champions in history to the brink of destruction this Sunday! STILL the man who will be crowned NEW X DIVISION CHAMPION! I will still be the man to beat you, Kai… to change the way you look at me, EVEN THE MAN YOU SEE IN THE MIRROR EACH MORNING! I make my own luck. I make my own destiny. I may not be a phenom, but it will take a phenomenal effort to keep me down! We have dedicated the majority of our lives to the disciplines instilled in us by those who took it upon themselves to instruct us, Kai. They taught us how to fight, how to compete but it was I that had to learn how to be ruthless, Kai. How to do anything necessary, to go to any lengths and use any resource available. It is the one thing that separates me from you. So brace yourself, because everything you think you know about sacrifice, about pain, about what the human body can do …all of it is about to change, because I am going to bring your pathetic beliefs about these people crashing down around you as a parting gift, old friend!

    He cleared his throat and cracked his neck.

    Lucian Ace: I am the dragon that all the warriors must face eventually if they wish to enter the gates of Paradise. I give the audience something to hate because I can't relate to them. I am an albino and a winner and a man of action when everyone else is just buying a ticket. I am the extraordinary when everyone else are the uninteresting and uninspired. I am the awe that takes their breath away and shakes them up. I make them feel uncomfortable because they see someone like myself made it but they let that train pass a long time ago and now they are so jealous that they will turn on the TV just in hopes to see me get my ass kicked.

    Ace picked up the wires and began wrapping them around his left arm and then the other once it was covered.

    Lucian Ace: The producers hope that my need for attention will force me to walk past that curtain and into what will certainly be a blood bath. To be honest, they are right. I will go out there because I have an addiction to prove I am better and that people should worship the ground I walk on and I absolutely hate it because my vanity will be the death of me. It has derailed every plan I make and it slow tears away the friends I have and will continue to until I am an old, miserable, lonely bastard who will only have Wrestling championships to his name...“Oh, it's just life”...

    Once he finished wrapping the wires, he presented his arms to the camera.

    Lucian Ace: But even with that said, I am still going to go out and tear my childhood friend limb from limb like a good little hostage of the black box and I will remain a pawn in this scheme until I no longer have to rally up my demographic...which is driven by Envy.

    Ace once again spread his arms out with his eyes down to the ground.

    Lucian Ace: And oh how they will envy me as I raise the title over my head and claim what is rightfully mine. And when that happens, I will make my demands to fix this terrible work environment once and for all. I speak for what's right...because what is right, it has no mouth to speak with.

    Check if there is anything else on...


    Last edited by Wolfs Rain; 04-25-2015 at 09:37 PM.

    Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and for thy possession, the ends of the earth. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron. Thou shalt dash them in pieces, like a potters vessel. Be wise now, therefore ye kings. Be admonished ye judges of the earth. Serve the lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling.

    Psalm 2:8

  7. #7
    Curtain Jerker
    Tim Stone's Avatar

    Join Date
    Apr 2015
    South Caolina
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      Country                    us=United States


    After a loss to Drew Jolson on Fight Night, Tim looks toward FWA's Back In Business Pay-Per-View. On May 2, 2015, FWA will pit a variety of matches from both Fight Night and Crossfire brands. To begin the night before the event starts, a Tim finds himself in a "Tribute to Legends" Battle Royal. As it stands right now, there are a few openings in the match so would that be filled with the "legends" in the match? Or would the match be like Battle Royal's seen before where competitors pay tribute to the legends by dressing as the individual? When sitting down with Tim to talk about the event, those questions would be seen again. FWA cameras met with Tim days before the big event.

    {Location: Pasadena, California}
    Sitting in front of his laptop on Skype with to get an interview before the Pay-Per-View event, Back In Business, Tim talks about his most recent match and the match to come at the event. As the image of a FWA logo appears on the screen, the FWA internet host begins to welcome the viewing audience before welcoming the guest.

    [FWA] "Welcome everyone to a special Skype edition of today's interview as we're going to be speaking with, here shortly, a man who's going to be a part of the upcoming Back In Business Pay-Per-View "Tribute to Legends" Battle Royal. With already 8 people scheduled, this man will take the Number 9 spot. I'm talking about Tim Stone".

    The Right side of the Skype side-by-side screen turns on as the image of Tim sitting in a chair is now seen. Various free weights and other workout machines can be seen behind him while Tim is wearing a Black FWA tshirt with the picture of FWA's Back In Business poster on the front. Tim's hair is wet as he was sweating from his previous workout but has a towel handy to dry off. The host then continues speaking.

    [FWA] "There you are, thank you Tim for joining us today".

    "Thank you for having me".

    [FWA] "What I want to do is to get your thoughts on the upcoming Tribute to Legends Battle Royal".

    "Yeah, I've got a chance to look it over but you know what? I've been in battle royal's before and you've got to have what it takes to last to the end. It's going to be a battle to stay in this match seeing who's already in there".

    [FWA] "Speaking of who's in there, your last opponent Drew Jolson will be there. Considering your loss against him, will he be your first target"?

    "You know what, Drew may have won but he's not going to win this one. It's not me saying that but everyone else in this match is going to make sure someone doesn't win but them. So will he be my first target? I don't know but we'll have to wait and see what happens".

    [FWA] "What about those who have yet to be named"?

    "The unknown to some would be rattling I didn't get this far knowing everything that would happen. I like the unknown simply because it makes you step up your game. Let's face it, right now, I could use it. It's been a battle since I got here and I'm not going to let that stop me.

    [FWA] "Let's talk a little about this match, Tribute to Legends Battle Royal will be honoring 10 legends".

    "When you think of legends, you think of those who are in the Hall of Fame. Now as of today, there looks to be 5 spots available".

    [FWA] "Who do you think those 5 will be"?

    "I don't really care. I mean there's already 8 people I've got to worry about which I know their names so could the 5 be legends? I don't know but we'll find out in days to come".

    [FWA] "I want to thank you for taking time to speak to us and wish you the best in your match".

    "Thank you".

    Tim cuts off his camera as the image of the FWA logo takes up the entire screen as the host's voice tells the audience of the upcoming event.

    [FWA] "We just heard from Tim Stone and those of you that didn't catch it can see and hear the replay on our YouTube page. (An image of the Pay-Per-View poster appears on the screen).

    [FWA] "Call your Pay-Per-View provider and order Fantasy Wrestling Alliance Back In Business X as we'll be coming to you live at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California.

  8. #8
    WC Hall Of Famer

    Jimmy King's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jan 2010
    Slam Diego
    Rep Power
      Country                    United States


    The scene begins in a lavish looking room where a fireplace is seen with a fire going, the crackle of the wood as it burns can be heard. In front of the fireplace is a large chair, and as the camera pans around it reveals Ghost sitting in the chair looking into the fire. The reflection of the fire can be seen in his eyes as he stares at it in deep thought, obviously a lot on the vigilante’s mind going into what is possibly his biggest match in FWA thus far. He stands up from the chair and begins to walk around the room and stops at a photo and grabs it and stares at it intently as he begins to speak.

    Ghost: This must be you and former CWA owner, Charles Anderson, am I right James?

    The camera zooms in on the photo of Jimmy King and Charles Anderson.


    Ghost: You must be real proud of this. Standing with the man that you bought CWA from, but I must ask, does he know the real you? Does he know of the man that hides behind a mask? The man that feeds off of the agony of others and feeds off of corruption and greed, and the man that wants nothing more than to watch the world burn, does he know that man? I assume not.

    He places the photo down and walks along until he finds another one.

    Ghost: And this must be your lovely wife, Megan Anderson. Also a former owner of CWA, and stepped down to let you take the helm.

    The camera zooms in once more to the phot of Jimmy and his wife Megan.


    Ghost: Does she know the real you? Surely you wouldn’t hide that from your beloved wife, would you James? If she found out who you really were, an evil manipulative man that would stoop to any low that he saw fit to. I’m sure that would just crush her and ruin her image of you, a loving husband, but if she only knew that deep down inside that loving husband she sees is a nameless man that burns with hatred and cares for no one in this world but himself.

    He places the photo down and turns to the camera.

    Ghost: James, you can behind that mask all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are nothing more than scum. You are the scum of the earth. You are what is wrong with this world, and you are the poison that has slowly been injected into Crossfire and I am the man that will stop you before you get the chance to kill what is left of Crossfire. I am Crossfire’s savior, and I will stop at nothing until I make you burn James.

    He steps towards the fire and looks down at it.

    Ghost: Remember when I had my hand around your throat James? I remember it quite well because when I had my hand around your throat I could see the fear in your eyes. I could feel it as I held you in my grip. I could sense your fear and I know in that very moment you saw your life flash before your very eyes. Everything that you have “worked” so hard for, gone in an instant. Your wife, your family, all of it gone just like that James.

    He turns towards the camera now.

    Ghost: You think that hiding behind that mask is a way to hide your fears, but you’re wrong James. I know that deep down inside that cold, black heart of yours that you fear me. I can hear it in your voice when you speak, I hear you tremble your words in fear whenever you speak of me because you know that you cannot stop what is coming. You know that your whole world is about to come crumbling down before you and there is nothing that you can do about it James. I will bring out that fear come Back in Business James, I will show the whole world that fear you have of not only me, but what will become of you after Back in Business when I leave you lying a beaten, broken mess in the middle of that ring.

    The camera zooms in now.

    Ghost: Your judgment day is calling James, and you can beg for mercy all you want but I will not stop until you can take no more and you pass out and I stand above you with my head held high while you lie beneath me like the worm that you are. I told you that you cannot stop a beating heart, and Back in Business this heart will not stop until you are stopped once and for all. I will not be joining your Movement and giving in to your demands, but you will give in to your greatest fear because the end is nearing James, and you will burn for your sins.

    With that Ghost takes a photo of Jimmy King out of his coat pocket and throws it in the fireplace. The camera zooms in on the photo burning, and in the last seconds we see Jimmy King’s face in the photo go up in flames.
    Last edited by Jimmy King; 04-27-2015 at 05:33 PM.
    Rest in power, Flock U
    Rest in power, TCON

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business


    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

  9. #9

    Join Date
    Nov 2012
    Barrows Mansion, Romsdalen, Norway
    Rep Power
      Country                    Norway


    All this world is going to burn. Feel my wrath and my pain, simply because I have been bred by hatred, disgust, violence, and agony.

    The scene opened inside a grey placid room, something akin to an asylum chamber, padded with crappy foam and dingy, like the age of many years and many mental patients wore it down. Humanity sat there, center of the room on a small wooden chair, possibly made of oak, or some other dark wood. He slowly rocked back and forth, detailing just how much he's gone of the deep end as of late. His hair is gross and dirty, and his bangs cover his face. The only thing we see is his mouth, which is muttering silently.

    Humanity: I am angry. I am not a joke. I need to be the monster I am inside... Back in Business X... Executive Excellence vs. The Movement... another day in the life of Humanity. Another day of existence for FWA.

    Humanity runs his left hand slowly through his hair, not pulling it back however, and continues to rock back and forth on the wooden chair. He taps his foot on the ground rhythmically to a one, two, one, two pattern.

    HUmanity: It's surprising how much I have done in only 7 months. I've taken over Crossfire, ended arguably the greatest tag-team in history and took their belts, and I have gone toe to toe with the best in this business. However, tonight, everything is on the line.

    He shakes his head slowly, and growls, as if at some unseen force within him. The camera shifts and slowly reveals that Humanity is staring at a mirror. The mirror's reflection is that of a more peaceful scene, with Brian sitting at the end of a bed, inside a comfortable hotel room... which is reality, that is the question.

    Humanity:I've been humanizing for the past month... and I hate it. Emotions are so worthless and unneeded... Fear: what a worthless thing... an empty ideal for the weak. Those who stand to lose something will lose. Those who stand to gain something gain nothing. However they all fear failure... How very appropriate.

    Humanity laughs and shakes his head erratically.

    Humanity: I however have no fear. Despite what pitiful fears Brian has, I, Humanity show nothing. I don't believe in fear. I also do not believe in failure. I know there is no such thing as a no-win scenario for me. I never fail, simply because believing in failure leads inevitably to failure.

    I am Humanity... Jujika-Ou. Crucifix King. The Effigy of Death. People consider Jimmy King the leader of my Movement... but think about it for one singular moment... Who was it that first mentioned the Movement way back in November of 2014? Who was the one that had conveniently convinced Jimmy King to return to FWA? Who was the one that talked Syn, Nightmare, Lucian Ace, and PAJ to enter into the order of The Movement? That's right. Me. I was the real shadow in the background. Now, Ghost will be the next member of MY Movement. There will be no one left BUT the Movement.

    He shuffles to his feet and shambles over to the mirror. He places his hands at the wall and stares at the man staring back at himself. It's a reflection, but to Humanity, it's so much more. It's the one thing he despises, himself. He can't stand looking at the man who is there in the mirror. It makes him hate himself only more... His hair shifts out of the way to see his eyes, showing extreme shame and hatred... The dull blue eyes are wide at the realization that he himself is what he always said he was not... evil. He yelps loudly in shock and stumbles backwards.

    In a moment of pure fury, he throws his fist at the mirror, shattering the glass to pieces and cutting his hand up in the process. The reflection of the mirror snaps and misshapes into a form of a smiling demon, as it disappears when the glass falls apart.
    Humanity looks at his hand, glass impaled and pierced... his hand begins to become slightly bathed in scarlet blood... It hurts terribly... but he loves it...

    Humanity:I have walked the fine line between becoming human and remaining an anomaly... This ends now. At Back in Business, I assert myself to becoming the true monster. We can spice things up. No DQs, No Count-outs. Just the four of us, kicking the crap out of each other. Toner, I've seen you fight. You've fought long, and you've fought hard. You're a vicious animal, man.

    However... I did what you couldn't. I beat Randy Ramon. I beat RevELution. And deep down, Toner, you're jealous. Jealous of the fact that I did what you strived for so long to do, but ultimately kept failing and failing. It burns inside, doesn't it? Where you BARELY, ALMOST won, it doesn't matter. Almost is a sign of what could have been. "Almost" isn't good enough Toner. We didn't "almost" win. We DID win. Now look at our work, Toner. Where is your rival? Where is the "great" Randy Ramon? Where's Ayla El? They have turned against each other. How beautiful.

    Humanity walks around the room in circles... lost in thought deep inside himself. He thinks about all he's done and the pain he's inflicted on innocent people...

    So Toner, Quinn; You've been listening to me speak. I know just what it is you're thinking, the question inside your head. It's running around like a hamster on a wheel. The question that the answer absconds you as we speak. Delicately threaded into a web of mystery. The question that everyone wants to ask. Everyone wants to know, "What is the purpose for destroying FWA?"

    The answer is the one that scares most people. Most people feel there truly is a purpose to me causing chaos and destruction upon FWA. There isn't. I do it, because I can. Plain and simple... There is nothing to gain from destroying FWA. I do it because I have the power to do it. Isn't that scary? A man who does because he can, not because he gains. In order to do, however, I have to throw away everything... my emotion, and Brian's humanity. There's only one man who can do so...

    A voice inside himself yells out in fear, as if the only glimpse of the real man inside him, his actual fear shows... indeed, Humanity is afraid of only one thing... and that is himself. This emotion, which we know as Brian, shows.

    (Brian: No... Y-you wouldn't!!! Not him!!!)

    He holds his head, the blood pouring down his hand and arm, and drips on the musty and gross padded floor. He fights back the emotion fiercely and the man inside him dies down slowly... He smirks at this victory of his...

    Humanity: I would... and I will. The skeletons in the closet have to come out sometime. The man who gave us our abilities, and the parasite I had no use for before, I need his... services again. A worthy entry into MY Movement. Haha...

    The Effigy of Death shambles back and forth in the room for a few moments before looking down at himself, the scars and cuts, the history of his pain and torture showing... He loves pain, but at the same time, he hates what he's done to himself... what used to be beautiful, soft skin, now has the texture of sandpaper... He couldn't help but laugh at himself for the pitiful display of his body. It's a detailed history of his undying will to keep going. That's something he takes pride in... contradictory, isn't it?

    Humanity: Of course... I should address this issue of the wounds on my skin... Look at them. The pain strikes swiftly in, this scarred and charred body. And I'm loving every single moment of it. Give me pain, beat me until your knuckles bleed, and my own flesh has been mushed. I will still find the gall to stand and beat you twice as much...

    The door clicks, much to the surprise of Humanity, who stares and watches as it creaks and groans open. Light pierces inwards, momentarily blinding him, covering his eyes with his one uninjured hand. Able to look back again, a dark shillouette stands in the doorway, slightly portly in figure. This must be Humanity's Dark One he is claiming about. Humanity looks at the glass shattered on the ground... he shakes his head, trying to deny the fear he has deep down in the catacombs of his sub-conscious.

    Humanity: . . .Fear is only a factor for the weak... Toner... you know you're afraid of losing... isn't that it? You know that we're better than you, right? And now, with the Dark One coming, there's going to be a lot more to fear. With my emotion being thrown away, Brian's humanity, soon to be dust, and the Dark One ready to make his glorious debut into FWA, like he did in CWA, I shall become the ultimate monster... Sarah, Stacy, and Celestia are so blind... aren't they...? It's a pity... heheh... Are you ready, EE? Here I come.

    He looks to the shillouette, who is motioning him to come. He nods slowly, and slowly moves his feet in the direction of the door. Stepping out into the light, Humanity himself becomes a shillouette too, as the door closes, making the damp, dirty chamber dark once more...

  10. #10
    Mid-Card Champion
    Eyesnsane's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2013
    Rep Power


    *Alessandra is standing in the back hallway and is looking at the schedule for Back in Business. She let’s out a gleeful yelp, clasping her hands together in front of herself, as she turns facing the camera. Which she skips up to with a big smile on her face, seeming to grab both sides of the camera giving it a shake from the left to the right.*

    Oh my God!! Guess what? I just found out I was selected to be in the Tribute to the Legends battle royal. Don’t you know how big that is? This is a huge freakin deal! That will be the match that really kicks off Back in Business. This is like, a huge honor for me, because the company actually has enough faith in me to book into a match with so many superstars and icons of this company. This battle royal is going to be loaded with past champions, from different eras of the FWA.

    This may be my first battle royal here, but I intend on making it one to remember. I’m not going to take this for granted. Just think of what winning this thing could mean for my career, what kind of a splash that would be for me. Not to mention the fact that somebody in management has the belief that I can compete in this type of match against the awe inspiring talent that will be in it. I may not know who, but I am going to get in that ring and work my ass off to prove whoever it was right about me, and show them their faith was not misplaced. Besides, you know the old saying, you can’t keep a good woman down!

    *Alessandra literally turns around and begins skipping down the hallway, and fist pumping in the air a couple of times.*

    ”The term "battle royal" was first coined by the Romans to refer to a form of gladiatorial combat involving a number of gladiators fighting, armed or unarmed, until only one remained standing, or alive. These fights tended to be particularly brutal, even by the standards of the Romans. Early Christians, such as Clement of Rome and Ignatius, actively but unsuccessfully campaigned against this savage form of entertainment.

    That said I know my stuff. I know what I am getting into here, and I know it will be difficult. Hell remaining in this match and being the last person standing will not be easy. But I won’t let that stop me. I’ve heard rumblings of others in the back, and in passing about strategies to win, and crafting plans of one nature or another. If I’m not mistaken I may have even overheard a couple of the guys agreeing to look out for each other until the end and then they can sort things out between the two of them. Those things may work for some, but I think those guys just don’t get it, but believe me, I do….”

    ________________________________________________ Pasadena Ca. __________________________________________________________________________

    *Alessandra is in a shared locker room standing in front of a full length mirror, looking as if she is making sure her attire for tonight’s battle royal is good to go. Her hair is pulled back tightly into a bun, with a red bow tied around the bun to secure the hair in place. Her boots are a bright white color with red soles, and she has chosen a full length wrestling outfit that is sold black, except for the right side where we see a green vine with leaves wrapping itself up her leg. Then along her torso ending at the shoulder where a big bright red rose is located.*

    Hello again FWA nation, in case you forgot, I’ll be competing shortly in the Tribute to Legends Battle Royal. That’s not to say that I am an FWA legend, not yet anyway, that’s just not a moniker that I have earned yet, but all in due time. This match will no doubt have legends and iconic stars of this company, past and present in it. There is even a mystery factor to it, because it has been announced that there will be not one, not two, but five mystery entrants into this battle of survival.

    I’ve heard a lot of talk about who those folks might be, who some people hope they will be. The thing that gets me the most is how a few question marks on a poster cause so much commotion. I would say that most people have the tendency to gear the unknown. Then again I am not most people, and I would say that I am far from average. Going full force into the face of the unknown is not a fearful endeavor for me. No, you see the unknown excites me, it motivates me just that much more. It’s part of the reason that none of us can just walk into this fight thinking that we have it. The unknown simply means each of us had better raise the bar before we hit the ring, it means we had better be prepared for anything. See the unknown has me pumped up more for this match than I would be if I knew who everybody was that was going to compete. Ya!

    *She places her hands on her hip tilting her head slightly to the right. Although we see her light green eyes change their gaze from her attire to the camera.*

    Some of the newest members of the FWA will be appearing in this fight as well. None of us should take that for granted. Sure we have never seen them in action before, so we just don’t know what to expect. I could only imagine how I would feel if this were my debut match in the FWA or the second. It would only be natural to feel as though you were being thrown to the wolves, so to speak. Just as there will be the newest of the new, there will be more experienced wrestlers in this match as well. Right off the top of my head is the former world champion, and the former X-division champion. Neither has had the best of luck heading into this fight. One caught a beat down from Executive Excellence, while the other was most recently eliminated from the X race. Which only indicates to me that these two men have to be gunning hard for the win.

    *She turns around now facing the camera, as we can see the reflection of her back in the mirror. Looking up in the air as if thinking for a moment, she folds her arms in front of her, with a determined look on her face.*

    I have to admit that there are a lot of things about this match that I don't know, but I am not going to focus on all of that. Because there are things I do know, and they are what's really important. I know my value and worth to the FWA. I know that on any given day I could defeat anybody in this match if I were facing them one on one. I know this match is not about finishing moves and pins.

    I know how to survive both in and out of the ring. I know that there are no limits to what I will do to win this match. Maybe I'll need a chair, or a bat, or something else. Maybe I'll need to roll under the bottom rope, catch my breathe and let my competition do their worst to each other, while I carefully watch and wait for that moment to jump back in it, to win it. I know that I need this win more than I am starving to win it, and I know my name will be on a lot of lips when I pull this off.

    My FWA moment is literally a short time away. I did not think it would come this quickly, but I am more than ready for it. I am going to go out there and fight for it like you have never seen me fight for anything before in my career. That's what I know this business to be, a fight. Each and every moment in and out of the ring is a fight. I fight for recognition, for the fans that cheer for me. For the sake of proving I belong here in the FWA among the very best wrestlers in the entire world, and I am going to fight until my body gives out to win this match no matter who shows up, no matter which person has won whatever title before. I am seizing my FWA moment right here tonight in Pasadena, California.

    *A stage hand knocks and places just her headphone covered head inside the door. She glances at Alessandra, who returns her look as they make eye contact.*

    Stage Hand: Ok, its time.

    *As her head disappears out of the door. Alessandra takes one more look in the mirror and makes one last adjustment to her hair, she then heads toward the door swinging it open wide and almost glides out of the room with the most serious look on her face we have seen.*

  11. #11
    Striving for a B+ in life
    The Golden One's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2013
    Orlando, Florida
    Rep Power
      Country                    United States



    "I've died before?"

    "That's what ya' saw, honey?"

    No scene. No light. No people. Just voices. We've heard them before. The first is a deep, bruised, masculine voice seeking answers. The other, the one responding, is a soft female voice with a Cajun twang to her words.

    "Who was that?"

    "I dun'no, honey. What did you see?"

    The darkness changes to an extremely blurry vision of a man seated and looking to the left, out of the picture. The scene never comes into focus, but it's obvious a man standing in a dim room with a red glow below him and purple one above him.

    "I saw a man in the mirror. Not me, though. A Mexican child, a young boy. It was me, but it wasn't me. I was tired. It was early in the morning. I spent the whole day pulling crops in a field. I saw my whole life. I don't know what it was."

    "It was ya' past life, honey."

    The blurry vision secedes into a clear shot of "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden. But it isn't the version we know now. He has all black hair, no earrings or nose ring, and is 100 percent his "The Golden One" self. No eyeshadow or anything. It's July of 2014, why Golden looks so different, and he's not brimming with the same comfort and confidence he regularly shows nowadays.

    "You believe in that stuff? Reincarnation stuff?"

    "Honey, I had people come in every day thinkin' I crazy at first. Then they see it, just like ya' did. See themselves as a girl, as an old man, as a president of a country, as a professional athlete. It's all different. Ain't no funny business."

    The other lady is named "V," a hypnotist in a dark corner of New Orleans' French Quarter, and she is sitting across the table from Golden. The African American female with a bandanna balling up her black hair has a few braids sticking down in front of her peanut butter chocolate skin color.

    "Do I have any other past lives?"

    "Looked at your skin, your palms, when you were hypnotized. Read your cards, saw the outline of your past. Don't know all details, but I know the general ones. You'll have to pay to see more.

    This is fourth life, honey. Lived your first one until 1834 as a Chinese female sex servant. Lived until 1928 as a Mexican crop picker in California. That was the one ya' saw just now. Lived until 1982 as a female teacher in the northwest. Now you're ... you."

    "Do you know my names?"

    V looks at him in silence and shakes her head. She explains in her accent that she doesn't know his past names, and neither will he even through hypnosis. The only thing he will see is experiences in his past lives.

    "Do ya' want to see more?"

    "Maybe. ...

    How do I know this is true? How do I know this is what I'm looking for? How do I know this is what I keep seeing in my dreams?"

    V looks at him and then down to her cards. She briefly pauses and then smiles.

    "Ya' soul goes through reincarnation until it finds eternal peace. Ya' keep becomin' a better person, or ya' supposed to be, and as ya' keep gettin' better, ya' have a better life. Remember how I said ya' started as a sex slave in China, then a Mexican crop picker, then a teacher. Now you're you, I don't know exactly what ya' are now. I only can read past lives.

    Ya' soul never dies. A body, a person, dies. But the soul never dies. And ya' soul brings with it the subconscious memories. Ya' dreams when ya' sleep are tapping into ya' subconscious. Hypnosis is tapping more into that, and then bringin' it more into ya' conscious. So ya' can see it better, know ya' past better and where ya' came from."

    V makes sense, in Golden's mind. He had dreams, his whole life, about his first, second and third lives. They were blurry visions, not complete lives by any means, just like the vision of this scene's start. "The Golden One" looks so normal, so contemporary and common.

    "This isn't what I'm looking for. My past doesn't help me."

    V looks at Golden and smirks.

    "What ya' askin' for, honey? I got work to do. I gotta' make the bills."

    Golden leans forward in the chair. He looks into the purple light above him, up in the ceiling, and then gazes down into the red light bulb in the middle of the table and the cards laying on the black table cloth.

    "Can you see my future?"

    V stops shuffling the cards, stops organizing and cleaning her work place, and looks up. She's not looking at Golden, but rather off to the side.

    "Close your eyes."

    "Maybe more than anything else, I hate cliche settings. They just have something repetitive and lackluster about them. It sort of feels like a cop-out, an excuse to just get something decided and go to the meat. But this isn't cliche. This feels right. It just works. More thought has gone into this than anything else. This is about the past, the present and the future."

    These words are written on a green chalkboard, with the white chalk smudging on the corners of each letter. Slowly showing all of the chalkboard, nothing else is written, just that paragraph, some 50 words, across both sides. The chalkboard is centered on the front wall of a decorated second grade classroom, with a discipline board to the right and a map of the world to the left. A flat screen television is off to the side, and windows shine in sunlight to the organized rows of desks perfectly situated one behind the other to the back. These desks remain empty, filling a classroom with two doors on the wall opposite the windows. In between the doors is a bookshelf for students to house their study materials.

    At the front of the room sits a teacher's desk, nearly empty. No cliche apple, no tests to grade, not even a pen or sheets of lesson plans. Just a calendar, one of those big calendars for a work desk or to hang in a classroom. The year on it: 2015, and all months before May ripped from the seams and tossed away.

    "I used to teach in this classroom. Right there, front and center, back in the 1960s. Lived until 1982. Not me, Devin Golden, but my soul within another body, living a completely different life. I sat at that desk, as a female, and comforted the young minds of elementary students. I lied to them about the power of Communist Russia, about the good intentions of politicians and about how the United States of America would never end segregation.

    I am here, because I used to be here. This used to be my life. This square-shaped room was everything. I loved teaching. Now, though, my life is wrapped around another square-shaped setting as I chase not good grades and hopeful futures for my students, but securing nothing but my own personal glory.

    Ryan Rondo, Wolf and Phillip A. Jackson haven't a clue what they are in for."

    The scene was silent. Nothing slips in between the door cracks or windows. A voice from the back of the room, though, breaks that silence with a bone-chilling tone of comfort and nostalgia.

    "I have spoken the last seven months about a game I play, about knowledge beyond anyone else's capacity and about my ability to shun all others' opinions and thoughts as nothing more than unimportant noise. I play this game, with my own rules, knowing the outcome. And I know one thing for sure: I will leave Back in Business X the World Heavyweight Champion. I will do so, because I have seen it. I have felt the championship belt in my grip. I have experienced the rush of blood to every corner of my stream, every ounce of raw emotion to my brain, every feeling of pride to my heart. I experienced the future as if it was the present, and that's how I know the future will be my reality."

    "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden walks from the back corner of the room into vision, his lengthy black hair curling around the neck and hanging low over his ears and eyebrows. The red tips of his bangs feed off the black eyeliner and piercings on his nose, lip and ears. Black pants with a chained belt adds to the Gothic appearance as Golden slightly strokes the dust off a back-row desk and sends the dirt particles into the air.

    "The lady named 'V,' you all have seen her and my relationship. It was short-lived, spending our time in one quick night down in the armpit of New Orleans. But in that time, she opened my eyes to truth. Dreams are a way to tap into our subconscious. I had dreams, visions, of me winning the World Heavyweight Championship as 'The Rotten Gold.' This was while still 'The Golden One.' I had dreams of this ever since I failed with The Rotten Gold. I tried and tried and tried pushing them back, only for them to resurface and grow stronger. Everyone has dreams, maybe of the future. Maybe of the past. V showed me my past, she showed my steps through reincarnation as I chase nirvana and explained what my future holds. She affirmed my beliefs, that I was destined for greatness if I followed a noble path."

    The former World Heavyweight Champion's back remains turned to us, and instead looks out to the message written on the green chalkboard wall as if in a trance.

    "So I did just that. I went, one by one, through the roster. I didn't need automatic championship opportunities based on my 'name.' I needed to prove myself worthy, reborn and anew. 16 people tried and failed. Only Drew Stevenson, this past week, experienced victory against 'The Rotten Gold.' But I saw it happen. I saw myself a year ago experience this humbling moment on the week's eve of my biggest night. It is as if there is a higher being at play, manipulating my emotions and energies and not letting me get too far gone in my own success. It's as if this higher being WANTS me to achieve success. I know, from the loss to Drew Stevenson, I can lose. While the scripted future tells me I am to leave Back in Business X the champion, future is not written in stone until it becomes the present.

    But seeing it, dreaming it in the most real of dreams, makes me want the World Heavyweight Championship so much more."

    Devin Golden reaches the front row and places his hands on the two desks on either side of him. He leans over, and then swiftly turns around and shows a face of comfort and drive, of relaxation and motivation, all mixed into one look. His smile is earth-shattering confident, his look dark and mysterious.

    "Truth is, the loss to Drew Stevenson was the worst thing that could've happened for my opponents. Back in Business X will be the moment of moments. Our current champion, our 'Last Star in the Sky' Ryan Rondo, is about to fall from the sky. He is about to realize the effects of being a champion, the hardships of being at the top and fighting off every known challenger out there. Ryan and I have a loooooong history, but this last month is another connection. I won the same championship in 2010, taking it from a Snake's grip, and defended it the first time against three other men. I walked in proudly, a newly made 'Rotten Gold' acting all bad and evil for the sake of promoting fear. I am far different now, not trying to promote fear but simply trying to promote myself and not caring what people take from it.

    I lost the belt that night and never have won it again, until of course Back in Business finalizes itself as the future has told. Ryan Rondo might suffer the same fate, a champion thinking too much of himself and too proud. Phillip A. Jackson would know all about how it feels to lose it after just winning it."

    This school, Lampson Elementary School in Garden Grove, California, had many teachers through the 1960s. Golden knows he was a second grade teacher, but never knows his past lives' names. He only knows the important details.

    "I will not be a history teacher. That is not my calling today. Phillip A. Jackson was the essential 'New Era' face. He was the ultimate Jimmy King ally. Now he is sided with The Movement. He is a man who cannot do things on his own, yet smart enough to realize that. He is someone who makes the most of his abilities and then concocts a way to add an extra 5 percent. I find this an appealing trait, but not one to help him at Back in Business. He is the only man in this match to never defeat 'The Rotten Gold,' and also never be defeated by him. But he is the someone who less than a year ago was our FWA Undisputed World Champion, doing so while I had these experiences with V and began my quest one by one through the roster, eyeing him and his prize. He never made it, though, downed on the first try by a Caramel Goddess.

    And after time and time again, he is back for one more shot. He is The Movement's silver coin to enter a match for gold. Or maybe The Movement was his silver coin. Regardless, he is here with a silver coin, trying to bite off more than he can chew because that is what he has done his whole career. But when you anticipate and acknowledge that fact, acknowledge this match plays to a man like Phillip A. Jackson's strengths, you can keep him where he belongs, a silver coin done over by the gold."

    Golden shines on, now sitting at the desk and his feet swinging from the place in a former life he used to teach.

    "Wolf is the FWA's most cherished gold. He is the epitome of this one-last-chance jargon preached from fans and analysts alike. They shout from the roof for a man such as Wolf to create himself magic, for lightning to strike the bottle in a way only Wolf can strike it. He is a fearsome animal of a man who thrives on the most brutal and senseless beatings, who succeeds in heightened violence and extreme implications. He saved the FWA from Jimmy King, he won this belt twice, was the first Grand Slam champion. The list goes on and on. He thrives off the final-chance narrative, the moment of ecstasy wrapped in cheering fans as he tries reliving it time and time again. And he hopes his opponent gets derailed, overwhelmed by those cheers, that feeling if you let it, you cannot get out.

    But I am a different man, Wolf. I proved it two weeks ago, on Crossfire. I do not let this become about you. I will not. This is about me, my vision and my future told to me in the most real of dreams. I do not care about them, the fans. They mean nothing, matter nothing. When you get down to the grit of the situation, Wolf, I saw myself a year ago beating you. I saw myself doing it. And I saw myself beating Ryan Rondo a month prior. And I saw myself beating Divine, Lucian W. Ace, Wake Walker, Darryl Digby, Jay Starr, Stu St. Clair, Cryos, James "Eyesnsane" Hughes, and all the others.

    And I saw myself, see myself, beating you again, Wolf. I see myself beating Ryan Rondo again. I see myself beating Phillp A. Jackson. I see it happening at Back in Business. It's before my very eyes, me holding the championship. Right then, in that moment, I will let the fans' noise enter. I will let them reach me. I will let the boos, cheers, whatever they choose, matter to me. Only then, though, because right then I have lived out the prophecy."

    "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden's facial expression changes to a focus and drive, no longer smiling but rather an inventive and intense look right back at us. He is gazing through the classroom one more time, and once again looking at the message written on the chalkboard.

    "I really don't like cliche settings, but this just felt right. It is the past, present and future all coming into one moment. The future, though, is what matters."

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA World Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    7x FWA Tag Team Champion

    2020 North American Sports Poster Of The Year

  12. #12
    God of Destruction
    Wolfs Rain's Avatar

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    Sam McDonald: This has been a real blood-bath. Both men are fallen now, collapsed in opposite corners. But... What's this? Movement... It's Wolf! Wolf is getting up!

    Harry Baxter: You're right! This man cannot be stopped! Stu St. Clair has hit Wolf with damn-near everything in this building, The Beast has been on his back this entire match and every time The Snake thinks he's won... Wolf gets back up.

    Sam McDonald: That's true, but that's just the nature of the man. Here he is riding what seems like a never ending losing streak, dropping his X title, losing his North American title, severing ties with his brother...

    Harry Baxter: Being kicked out of Age of the Fallen after a year and a half of dominance, Sam... That's what happened. Wolf didn't sever anything, Stu cut Wolf in two.

    Sam McDonald: Stu wanted to get rid of the skeleton in his closet for good and he finally got his opportunity... Wolf was devistated... In more way than one.

    Harry Baxter: That was awful Sam. Let's go back to the match, both men are up but I don't think either of them has their wits about them...

    Sam McDonald: These men need medical attention. This is sick Sam, just sick. These competitors are a bloody mess... These men are warriors Sam, true warriors...


    It was another early morning as I sat at my dinning room table. I was watching the sun rise over a horizon of hills, thinking to myself about how strange the fact is that in all chaotic likeliness someone is doing the exact same thing at this very moment thinking generally the same thoughts...Or the stranger concept that I might be the only person doing this at this very moment and I could be having a moment by myself.

    I took a moment and inhaled a sort of grandness that failed to be actualized. I couldn't fully conceive the concept of one-ness that was taking place. I turned away from the sun rise when I heard the sliding of a chair. I stared across the table to see me...a younger me when I still had the scars across my cheek. He stared back with a menacing grin as he placed his intertwined fingers onto the table as if ready with a proposition.

    Younger Wolf: What the hell is wrong with you? You look like a beaten dog.

    I snorted as I turned my gaze back outside the window where the sun just ascended beyond the grassy hills, not that turning away was going to make him disappear. This is something I had to address now and I was very aware where it would take me but I was ready...He slammed his fist onto the table as he laughed with a mocking cackle.

    Younger Wolf: You know, I liked you better with the scars when you knew how gratifying it was to be torn apart.

    I ran my hand across my cheek feeling the subtle ridges of stitches passed. I was lucky that the scars didn't leave any visible marks to disfigure my face. Though I did forget the pounding my body took when I received them. I remember hating every inch of myself and wanting to self-destruct into nothingness. I remember being empowered for some reason like I was doing exactly what I was suppose to be doing. But now I feel like I am splitting myself up on multiple different fronts and none of them are leading me to greener pasture.

    Younger Wolf: You are waiting on other people? Since when was that the way we do business? If we want something then we dive head first to get it because when you wait on somebody else to deliver the goods only one thing happens...You get old. I don't know about you but I am nobody's punching bag! You were so much more useful when you were angry and against the world rather than tired and submissive...Show the world you can be alive again and that you aren't just having a lucky streak.

    Wolf: I know what is gone can never come back and those who refuse to accept that are the ones who die digging. I moved on...

    Younger Wolf: Bullshit. You stopped being hungry. You are full of the f*cking scraps they fed you because you didn't feel like causing a ruckus anymore...Boohoo, what happened to your balls? What happened to the Wolf who would never lose to Devin Golden? What happened to the Wolf that demanded respect and would have knocked Ryan Rondo's teeth in at the first sign of an attitude? What happened to the Wolf who cared more about being feared than being liked? You use to go out of your way to make people raise an eyebrow but now you would be lucky to get a bat of an eyelash your way. It's because people can smell the scent of defeat on you. They can see that at any moment you will be ready to drop and they will be there to pick your bones and pluck your eyes.

    He stood to his feet with his hands planted firmly on the table as he stared a hole right into the side of my head. I wanted to turn just to scratch the itch of my stare meeting his but I resisted the instinctual urge in attempts of trying to get the mental projection to be dissolved and silenced but even as a few minutes go by I could still feel his eyes.

    Wolf: You know how tiring it was to be like that?

    Younger Wolf: You mean how tiring it was to be ambitious? The problem is you accepted the fact that you are nothing but a human. Me? I still have potential to be better and that really bugs you. You could be me but you would have to give up all this horse shit to even be able to reach where I was. What are you doing trying to live a normal life anyways? You aren't the family man type. I knonw you and inside is something that wants to kill, something that loves being hated, something that wants everyone to suffer simply for the fact that they tried to beat you. Now you settle for the easy man's way out. The distract yourself until you die motif. What a waste of a life.

    He plopped back down into the chair then leaned back to stare up at the ceiling and rest his feet on the table. I looked away from the window with an irritated glance, not bothering to move my head, and took a big long look at my younger self. I was reminded of the passion and the fire I had before I fractured my arm and how I felt on top of the world even when I lost because I felt like I would never die. It's not like I wasn't trying now...Hell, I main eventing Back in Business...But that doesn't feel real to me because I feel like I let it come to me instead of me chasing after it.

    Younger Wolf: And seriously, how can you let PAJ make a fool out of you so easily? I would have never let him leave with both of his legs fully able and unscathed. Hell, he wouldn't have been a blimp on my radar but you seem to be the butt of the joke last week. Who the hell are you?

    I mumbled a response under my breath, not wanting to show that I was being riled up by all the facts I could spit at myself. I saw a smirk on his face as he swung his legs off the table and leaned in with his ear as if trying to pick up what I was trying to say.

    Younger Wolf: I'm sorry, I can't here you...what was that?

    Wolf: I am... Wolf...

    Younger Wolf: A little louder buddy, I can't hear ya.

    Wolf: I am Wolf, god damn it!

    Younger Wolf: The hell you are! What is the last notable thing you had to say? If anyone is Wolf it is me! And that is sad because that means Wolf is long gone and buried. You are just a shell being held up with no other choice than to be alive.

    He stood up and slowly made his way over to my side of the table. I listened as every step he took caused the floor under him to creak. I heard his hand slide against the wood as he dragged his fingers along the real yet so dramatic that it almost shattered the illusion. I could see the pores in his skin as he got close. I could see his hair sway slightly as he tilted his head in a demented way like I used to when I wanted to intimidate my opponents. I hated him...

    Younger Wolf: Is that so? You deserve this shot? Because as far as I know, normal human beings don't deserve the dirt they walk on; they'd be lucky for someone to throw them a bone. Now who the hell are you?

    My fist clenched as his words slide out his mouth like a snake. I watched him as he stepped up next to me. He place a hand on my should...Damn, it felt so real. Was it real? No, that's ridiculous. It had to be me going insane...It had to be, it had to be, it had to be...I closed my eyes as I let the words fall out of my mouth as if I had no control, almost as if I was the one being projected outward into the world.

    Wolf: I am The Beast...

    Younger Wolf: C'mon, say it with some meaning! You have desensitized it to mean nothing with how many times you have said it. Make it into something that strikes a chord again. Give it weight so that it knocks the air out of someone when you shout it! Stop trying to make a trademark and say what you f*cking mean!

    Wolf: I am...

    Suddenly, I felt his grip tighten on my shoulder which caused me to jump slightly. I listened as I heard him breathe...Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. If I reached out, could I feel his skin? I wanted to reach up and grab his arm but my hand dared not move. I couldn't explain it but it was almost as if I was paralyzed.

    Younger Wolf: Don't tell me...Tell them. Tell all of them who they should fear. Let them know that their chance for glory is over and that there is no such thing as redemption. Live and breathe your knowledge as if it were your last thought, feast upon your disdain as if it was all the protein and carbs you could ever need. You will learn to be self-efficient, you will learn to be alive once again and you will learn how to never forget your scars...

    Stop. His thoughts stopped and his mind was creal. It was a small dark room, dim light hanging overhead showing Wolf with shadows trailing down over his eyes and under his nose. He had his right hand resting on top of the cold metal while his left arm hung at his side. His fingers tapped one after the, two, three, four, one, two, three, four...His breaths were shaking with rage as his gaze refused to be torn away from the camera.

    Wolf: I have been wondering for a while now why I truly came back to FWA. The first week away and I turned into a sack of potatoes that couldn't be motivated if you literally lit a fire under my ass. I was the worst possible thing...uninspired. I came back to prove I didn't let that fire go out but after returning I haven't really felt the heat. I turned into my own worst fear...A complacent competitor who should have left well enough alone. I have complained about those who refused to get out of the way for people who actually have something new to offer but I didn't realize I became one of them. I stopped being Wolf and started being a regular, pathetic, noise machine who just spat out sub-par points in the vain attempt to live of the past.

    He used his right hand to scratch under his chin in a sort of antsy-ness as if impatiently waiting to get to a certain point. He nervously chuckled a little as he quickly would glance down at his left arm.

    Wolf: It's time to remember how it is to be destroyed. And I start with my old pal, PAJ... PAJ, you're not going to underestimate me; you're not going to underestimate yourself. You're going to pick up a chair, or one of the other various blunt objects we'll most likely have in the ring at any given time, you're going to take that son of a bitch to the top rope, and you're going to do things with it that even I will never be able to do. You adapt... It's one of your strongest points. But no matter how much you adapt, no matter how much damage you cause, no matter how hardcore you get, there is one thing you can't do PAJ... Hit as hard as I can. Swing whatever you want at me, I'll swing it at you three times as hard. Fly off the rope, I'll catch you... Physics, PAJ… It's going to come down to you and me, toe to toe, and you're not going to be able to keep up. Because once I start tomorrow night... I'm afraid that I may not be able to stop.PAJ, I respect you plenty but I hate you deeply. As sure as my hand bleeds I will make you remember that no one makes it out alive. Nothing makes you special, nothing makes you better, you are still human and you are still capable of being broken. You, Jimmy King and the rest of The Movement will fall prey to the cancer that speaks and on your death bed, you will know forever until you close your eyes, the name Wolf.

    Wolf stares dead at the lens. The look of smug satisfaction wiped away, replaced with something a bit more typical. A scowl that only a fan could love. Ending his dramatic pause, Wolf lights his trademark cigarette, speaking as smoke billows from his nostrils.

    Wolf: Devin Golden. You beat me by being me it proves nothing. It sounds like the only one that can beat me is myself. I told myself during your promo: "If he lights a cigarette, I'm calling the f*cking Copyright Lawyer!" I mean, really? It's disappointing is what it is! That's why I'm so f*cking pissed about the whole f*cking thing! Why do you have to be anybody but Devin Golden, Devin Golden? I thought you'd be yourself and show everybody you weren't retard, you know, once the bell rang. But, then again, I can see how you'd want to be me in this one Dev. Shit son, I'm glad I'm me in this one. Because there aren't many people like me... Not actually a lot of assholes try, as you know all too well. But the fact is? I'm one of a f*cking kind. And in a match as brutal as Fatal 4 Way, being me will pay off... You may be fast as f*ck, Goldman, faster than me. But how often are you getting your ass put through Glass Tables? Hm? I didn't quite catch that? Oh, not often? That's what I thought. Well, how about this... You may have a firm grasp on the technical side of what we do. But how many different things have you been beaten up with this month? Shit, how about last year? What, like a chair maybe? Please... He scoffs. I've been beaten with chairs, pipes, bricks, two-by-fours, table legs, baseball bats for the past year... Shit, that was just Ryan Hall. You're just trying to bring the same f*cking thing I do to the same f*cking table, Goldman. Do I doubt you're going to fight me on Sunday? F*ck no. Do I doubt your ability between the ropes? Never. Do I think that you and me in the same ring and the same time is why fifteen thousand fucking households have pre-ordered Back in Business? You BETyour f*cking ass I do. This is about me beating sense into you. Me making you realize there is only room for one F-bomb dropping, fist clenching, Whiskey-swilling, bloodthirsty, sadistic, rageaholic, maniac... His name is Wolf.

    He shrugs, then takes another drag. Through a cloud he continues.


    He takes a frantic drag off his cigarette, calming himself.

    Wolf: I'm the Nuclear-Capable threat that makes the UN piss it's pants. I just wanted to perform research for an alternate source of energ- HA HA HA I BUILT A F*CKING MISSILE! GET READY FOR WORLD WAR THREE! Because that's how it happens right? I don't know to be honest, but I assume that's how it works. It's how I'd f*cking do it. But I digress. The state of affairs we find ourselves in is three of the strongest, fastest, most talented motherf*ckers to ever grace an FWA ring will grace it yet again fighting for the World Heavyweight Championship. I am simply there to make sure none of them get it. Because this isn't about winning, not for me. I've gone Nuclear. I'm ready to evaporate cities, I'm not in this to win. I'm in this to destroy it. I'm sick and tired of trying to fit square pegs into round holes. I'm on my way out and these kids are on their way up. I'm not saying I can't beat them... Because I can. I'm saying that I don't really have to. Sometimes one must only introduce chaos to a situation and step back to watch as that situation implodes. I'm not going to mark one guy for death, I'm going to mark three. Because if they can't walk, if they can't stand, if they can't throw a punch and I can? Who wins? Me. That's who. Because at the end of the day, this is about me. Just like for Rondo it's about him. For PAJ it's about him. For Golden it's about some kind of f*cked up dream made into reality involving stuffed animals, mexican chocolates. Nobody understands Golden and why is he using an eyeliner, but you don't have to. Well, shit, I don't have to. Because I am just there to ruin his day. The same can be said about PAJ and Rondo. I don't give a f*ck. Not anymore. I will beat all of you simply by surviving. Because it is what I am best at. Survival at all costs, set the launch sequence and push the red button, motherf*cker. Boom. Last man standing.

    He turns away for a moment, Wolf doesn't return his gaze to the lens as he adds:

    Wolf: Back in Business will be me at my darkest, at my most sadistic. I'm not going to wrestle any of you, but I will fight all three of you at once if I have to. I will end careers if it means I get what I want. Not because I don't like you, or because I want to see you gone, but because you and everyone out there needs to know one absolute fact... I'm the f*cking Beast and my wallet is the one that says: "Baddest Motherf*cker" on it. When I'm retired I'm going to walk the land like Caine in "Kung Fu". But until that day comes? I'm going to drop right hands that land like bombs, I'm going to smash your sand castles and I'm going to piss in your Cheerios. Why? Because I can. Because if I want to leave here cementing a legacy and that legacy happens to be The Most Sadistic Sick F*ck to ever slap pretty punks, face painters and thong wearers in the mouth? I'll f*cking take it. Because I am the biggest, I am the meanest, I am the most sadistic man to ever step into an FWA ring... often immitated, NEVER DUPLICATED! Undisputed ICON of Hardcore, The King of Carnage, The Baron of Brutality, The High Priest of Pain, The Grand Wizard of Gore. I am The Angel of Death himself, WOLF - and I am here with a buck of f*cking Nukes, simply to f*ck up your day.

    Back in my old FWA days, after every promo, I said the same thing. It was just a single sentence that I thought it sounded cool. I forgot about it. But as I prepared for this match, I remembered that statement.


    The camera holds a shot of Wolf, breathing heavily, obviously mentally prepared for this match-up. He chuckles slightly as the camera fades to the FWA logo once more, it stays on the screen for a few moments before it too fades... To black.
    Last edited by Wolfs Rain; 04-28-2015 at 02:06 PM.

    Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and for thy possession, the ends of the earth. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron. Thou shalt dash them in pieces, like a potters vessel. Be wise now, therefore ye kings. Be admonished ye judges of the earth. Serve the lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling.

    Psalm 2:8

  13. #13
    Mid-Card Champion
    Eyesnsane's Avatar

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    Nov 2013
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    Let's Face It!

    *Alana seems to be scantly clad, as we catch her on set doing a photo shoot that is soon to be released coinciding with Back in Business for FWA magazine.*

    I'm not Divine, I never have been and I never will be. I want to make clear a few things, he is good in the ring, and he has been good enough and smart enough to stay out of my way these last two weeks. I have to give him credit for that much. However the time to hide, or to be conveniently out of the way or ring is over. Our tournament has become a one on one match to determine the new king of hardcore, and who better to be the king of hardcore than the FWA's very own walking vagina, right?

    Frankly I could careless what people think of me, what they say about me, or what they feel the need to call me. The fact is I am a woman with drive, determination and talent. Those facts have pretty much ensured I would be hated in this business. Yet I embrace the hate, because the hate is nothing more than backhanded praise from those beneath my feet. No I don't need the affections of a hall of fame wrestler to keep me relevant. I don't need to splash my self here and there like some cheap perfume, just to get noticed. I don't need to pretend to be what I am not.

    *The shot zooms out as we see two women on either side of Alana as a white screen comes up in front of her only allowing the camera to see Alana from the neck up. As one woman begins working on Alana's hair, the other starts to apply make up.*

    As my own person, I am able to do things that most others can't, and that bothers most people, people like Divine. Consider how hard he has to try to get your attention, and I have it. I keep it, and it's not because of what I say, it's because of what I am able to get in that ring and do. I keep your attention because what I touch turns to gold. Because when I set my sights on a goal, I achieve it. No matter how hard the road may be, no matter what obstacles I may have to overcome, no matter if I have to go through friend or foe.

    Knock me down, and I get back up, only difference is, I'm twice as pissed off as I was the first time. Maybe you've noticed these past couple of weeks, and I promise you all that can hear my voice, Back in Business will be no different. I will stop at nothing to win, understand me when I say there is not one thing I will not do to Divine to win this fight. Two weeks ago, I guessed that you would be the one to make it to the finals with me. That's to say I saw this and you coming.

    *The woman doing her hair, finishes and takes a step back, to look over carefully observing her work for a moment. After a few moments she walks out of sight, as the woman doing her make up was able to finished her face, while she was talking, does the same, only going in the opposite direction. Alana turns now facing the camera, still behind the white sheet. With so many lights behind her we can see her silhouette set against the sheet as her curvy shadow is cast upon it.*

    I could not tell you if I am the fan favorite in this match, I also could not tell you if I am so hated that the people want to see Divine win. However, when it comes to him and me, I am hands down, without a doubt, better. I am not confused as to who and what I am. I am Alana Allure, the FWA's leading candidate for Bitch of the year! Oh, baby and I am all woman, a real woman from birth. That just makes me one more thing that Divine will never be.

    My apologies right up front to the people of California, I won't be trying to out Peacock Divine. I don't care about what Divine does or says, outside of the ring. As always, this is business for me. I am the woman on Crossfire that the fans can appreciate as X Division champion. I am the kind of woman they won't have to have an awkward and uncomfortable conversation with, during commercial breaks just having seen yet another over the top stunt.

    *The woman doing the make up returns with a device in her hand that is attached to a hose. walking behind the stretched out sheet, she begins to apply make up, beginning by lifting her hair up, and working her way down the back of the FWA star.*

    You have not taken this thing serious and yet here you are in the finals at back in business. You are the worst kind of person and it has nothing to do with your sexuality. It's because you take this for granted, you always have and you always will. You get by on your brute strength, and little mind games, as best you can, and it's a shame, because you really do have the talent to go far. But you'd rather do whatever you think you are doing for your FWA career. So much comes so easy to you, and I'm not talking about the shots or opportunities, I've spent each of these past weeks in the ring with you and I am not blind, or dumb. I know full well what you bring to the table.

    I also know that I have to beat you, I have to stop you from making a joke of that title, and this is my chance. Oh I believe you want it for all the wrong reasons. It's not some hand bag for you to tote around carelessly, nor a tool for you to hold the company hostage as I'm sure you would one way or another. Don't color me a company woman, my destiny is to build a hall of fame career right here in the FWA. So I can see no reason at all why I would let you stand in my way, or impede my progress. Fact is I've beat bigger, better, and less confused men. You call it embracing the feminine, the rest of us call it cross dressing. How long till you're on an episode of Maury?

    *Finishing the make up, the woman walks out of sight once more. Alana takes a couple of steps back, while looking down at herself, and after a moment she looks back up at the camera, as we see her from her silhouette she places her hands on her hips.*

    Do you know what you are Divine? I know, that was a loaded question. Let me make it a bit easier, love. You are my Rose Bowel right now, and I'm going to win you and go on to the championship not too long afterward. Being in the finals of this tournament has brought me to the biggest stage of them all. This is my time, my shot and my opportunity, and I'm not going to let you take it from me. I refuse to allow you to be another man standing in my way.

    Another man being preferred over me simply because a penis swing between your legs. Rest assured as much as you ant your sexuality to be a question, is as much as I want to be crowned the king of hardcore. I get it, you bring your shock value and all your overdone theatrics, and it's nice fluff. I get that you just hope that fluff holds up well enough and long enough so that nobody notices that as a wrestler, you're only slightly above average. I do have a heart though, as I become king and lead the way to the title, I'll remember to gracious enough to look back at you and ask how you like the view...

    *The tension leaves the sheet as it starts to fall, the camera feed is cut.*

  14. #14
    A lone Wolf
    Main Event Sayer's Avatar

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    Last edited by Main Event Sayer; 09-05-2019 at 10:15 PM.

  15. #15
    Intercontinental Champion
    Savage_Animal's Avatar

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    Oct 2007
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    Cameras are rolling and the sky is dark red almost like cloud fire has dawned over the sky. The smell of smoke fills the air. The red sky with smoke almost covers the sun as event he sun looks a bit red with its orange colour. The standing trees; green with life sway back and forth. Inside a cove with a wooden dock and a smoldering barn fire on the pebble beach. The wood on the dock is fine outside of it could use some tlc. There is no boats tided up to the dock. The tides was up and down the on the beach with the water being a cold blue with trace reflections of the cloud fire from the sky. There is a wooden canoe with no one in it moving around from the waves far out from the cove. There is a wooden paddle from the canoe drifting into the cove. There are no boats in view from the cove minus the abandoned canoe. A bottle rolls into the cove with a message in it. The camera crew pulls it out. It is written in red ink

    April 20th, 2015
    Reputation and Obscurity

    When you carve out legacy you end up creating a legend. What defines a legend is what he has accomplished and the impact he has created. The man is always looking to what to add to that legacy he is building. At the same time he is holding this glass ball a legacy and holding it tightly; not looking to break it. Time goes by and more people to look out to carve out their own legacy. While the man who created a legacy be left behind as all eyes change focus. Will he make noise or just lay there and take it? It is tough to say. It's either evolve or fail. He may have carved out a legacy in a few short years while you spent nearly a decade carving our your legacy. Legacy vs. legacy who's is truly better? For over a year I made noise but not enough in the last year besides crippling one's back and facing a man in retirement. The start of the year didn't go as plan with trying to get off to the right foot. Then I am crucified and bloody pouring down my face as I am unconscious. I tasted my own blood from that night as that is the last time I was seen. Perhaps it is I going into obscurity? I am fading with each and every year. Yet being written down as a favourite to win The Carnal Contendership match to going after the FWA Undisputed World Heavyweight title? Is this seriousness or they mocking me? I cannot tell. There is only one way to find out and that is taking on a man who is the most arrogant man in FWA history also at the same time the man who betrayed FWA to helping Jimmy King when he invaded. This man can back it up in the ring and he is no idiot by any means. He won a World Title within a year of being with the company. This man is 'Astonishing' Chris Kennedy.

    The camera crew puts the note back into the bottle and lets it drift in the cove. They turn and catch view of a figure from a distance walking down the hill that has many trees along the path. He continues to walk down ever so slowly down the hill in a pursuit. He gets closer and we see he is wearing black boots with white washed blue jeans. He is wearing a black leather jacket unzipped with no shirt on underneath. He continues to get closer as he is less than one hundred yards away. He has long brown hair that sways when he walks ever so closer. He has a thick long black beard. He is wearing black sunglasses. It is none other than Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair. He is now only a few feet away as he stops. He looks at the cove seeing the floating paddle and the wooden canoe with no one in it. He turns back at the camera and stares. He then takes off his sunglasses with his right hand and tosses them to the side. He glares at the camera with his light blue eye and pure white eye. Slowly he begins speaking in his all too familiar tone of voice.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: The greatest trick the devil ever do was convince the world he was dead. I am still standing here... watching the sands of time pass through the hourglass. While hearing voices that I am done. I have lost the will to fight and hold up the reputation I have made for myself. I wouldn't have let Lucian Ace walk away unphased what he did to me nearly two months ago. I would have made him taste his own blood and hung him on a cross. His body would feel pain while he would let out screams of agony that he himself didn't know he could release. This would have been the case but I digress that moment will come but not right now. As I lay unconscious hanging on a cross with a crown of barbwire on my head blood poured down my face. [*Stu pauses as he points at himself with his right hand*] I have tasted my own blood before but this time it was different. It wasn't the usual taste of my blood. I tasted doubt and uncertainty. That has never been the case as I have a strong will and I am the living Khmer Rouge. I needed to pull myself away when they finally got me off the cross. Trainers wanted to look at me and every interviewer in the company wanted my comments and thoughts on what just occurred out there.

    • Stu closes eyes for a moment as he pauses. The waves splash against the beach and Stu opens his eyes.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: I did not want to talk to anyone. Trainers wanted to look me over and stitch me back up. I refused and even Ashley O'Ryan wanted me to be looked over. I refused and I grabbed my bags and left the arena that night. I needed to clear my head and to have a cold hard look in the mirror who I am. I faced uncertainty as I faced many setbacks. I couldn't defeat Gabrielle last year in a match despite me crippling her back. I couldn't knock off Devin Golden. Golden isn't weak but I should have done better in facing him. Perhaps I was losing my way. Maybe I doing this isn't something I wanted any more. I needed to dig deep to find out if the fire within me was still burning or I having smoldering ashes inside of me. I looked within myself for the first few days and I didn't like what I found. I saw myself as a shell of who I am. I needed motivation again. My life needed a purpose again. Even someone like me may grow tired of the same ole thing. There needs to be something to give me excitement so I can get motivated again.

    • Stu pauses as he closes his eyes and clenches his right fist many times as the waves splash onto the beach. Stu opens his eyes and glares back at the camera

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: I thought to myself how am I going to after Lucian Ace if I do not have motivation outside of revenge. I needed to re-awaken that killer instinct and push it to a limit I never went before. Without question I am the most sadistic man in the history of FWA. I have that within me but I need something else. I do not need to base it off of a promise to a friend or a loved one. I have the want but that isn't what is missing. Motivation to show my time isn't over. Motivation to show I am not just living off my reputation or what lack there is now. It's time to take a stand and embrace my iron will and not let myself fail. This is it as is do or die. I trained everyday in mind and body to get myself to where I need to be so I can go to the next level. I would have chosen to go after Lucian right away but I need to make sure I am indeed ready. I thought who else has something to prove besides the young guns in FWA. Who else has a reputation and a worthy challenge. Then I saw him return on television. The answer was simple 'The Astonishing' Chris Kennedy. The man is a former World Heavyweight Champion not to mention the First Ever Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion.

    • Stu smirks as his face goes serious and slowly exhales with the tide splashing on the beach.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: The man knows tactics in getting what he wants. He is no pushover inside the ring. He has pushed himself beyond his needs in attaining and retaining the World Heavyweight title. He has the track record for it. He has an ego like most of us do but it is coupled with pure arrogance. That is a recipe for disaster. Ashley O'Ryan knocked him off and won the FWA Undisputed World Heavyweight title. He lost it again to Ryan Hall but it was in the infamous Mile High match against Gabrielle, Nathaniel Richards, Wolf and myself. Nonetheless no one really has a chance retaining in a match like that. It's not a knock on Kennedy as it is pure fact. Even I couldn't retain as you do not even need to be pinned as the belt itself lies above the ring suspended. At that time Chris' contract was up and Jimmy King made him a hell of deal to make serious money in CWA as he was going there on Jan 1st of 2014. He may have not aided in the invasion with Hall, Rondo and Philip Jackson but to me he was traitor for jumping ship. Though he did come back sooner than later with Brian Carter and took Ash and my Tag Team titles.

    • Stu stares at his feet and then slowly looks back at the camera.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: It was two thousand and thirteen when he was FWA Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion he and others accused me of not making it on my own so I went back to tagging with Ashley O'Ryan. Ironically the same could be said when he partner up with Brian Carter. The reason Ash and I got back together as Vodka and Venom arguably one of FWA's best tag teams in the history of the company. We put our differences aside and found the friendship that both of us forsaken long ago. We wanted to prove we could hang and defeat the young blood tag teams. Even facing off another great tag team in Aut Pax Aut Bellum. We even had a couple tag team titles runs proving we could still be the best tag team in FWA. [*Stu smirks as he pauses*] Here's looking at you Kennedy and others I am standing here by myself with no strings keeping me up like an old fable wooden puppet. Everyone keeps forgetting or ignoring that I can stand on my own two feet and hold my own. Only this time it is to prove I am just as dangerous as before and if not better than before.[*Stu pauses as he shakes his head*] I even remember two years ago you laughed and cheered as Gabrielle your former trophy wife brought my personal problems to life.

    • Stu pauses as he inhales and slowly exhales and slightly shakes his head side to side.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: You enjoyed what she said and went out to make me look like the town drunk. Playing out that I couldn't deal with own life so I had booze to deal with it. Use booze as a crutch so I can never feel pain. I could always relieve the glory years without focusing on the here and now. LETTING MY REPUTATION become like a half full glass where it doesn't mean a hell of a lot. With opponents not taking me a SERIOUSLY WHEN I get in that ring and face them. BETTER TAKE ME SERIOUSLY KENNEDY OR YOU WILL HAVE EGG ON YOUR FACE JUST LIKE WHEN ASHLEY O'RYAN FACED YOU FOR THE TITLE. You didn't take him seriously and look where that left you. This is Back in Business the biggest night in our sport where legends and moments are made. A perfect place to carve out a legacy for an up and comer. This is where you cement yourself as a legend. For myself it is where I can see if I can still do this and evolve or continue on the decline. Kennedy doesn't have much to gain from the this match besides facing someone who can be called a legend.

    • Stu closes his eyes for a moment then reopens his eyes.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: Would I consider myself a legend? In my own view no because I am still building a way to maybe be considered down the road. My name doesn't hold up to Chris as he didn't take my challenge seriously two weeks ago. To him it was a weak and a yawn. A pathetic way on my part to get inside his head. He is part right. The getting side his head part was knowing that I want to face him. I am guessing when he appeared on Crossfire before we go to Back in Business he was implying I was a one trick pony and there is nothing to worry about it when he it comes to me. [*Stu pauses then chuckles sinisterly as a sadistic smirk comes over his face*] He is delusional if he thinks there is nothing to worry about when it comes to me. If anything he should take his match seriously because THIS IS THE MATCH I WANT TO PROVE TO EVERYONE AND MYSELF I HAVE the killer instinct and I am far from a shell of who I am. This match also is my test if I can handle Lucian and make him pay for what he did to me nearly two months ago because [*Stu shakes his head and he speaks slowly and exhales*] I am far from letting me get away with what he did. I want him to suffer but I want to see where I stand because by god I want the first encounter when I face Kennedy to be a success. Like I already said we have never faced and knocking him off will make waves that I am back.

    • Stu gets a serious look on his face.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: There is no room for failure at this point. This is do or die. I do not want my comeback to end in Bittersweet Chin Symphony. I want it to end with the DDT; short trip bad landing. I want to drive Chris Kennedy's neck straight into the mat at full force because when it comes to the DDT it is the end. I want people to think when they face me the end is closer than they think when I get my hands on them. I already feel the venom in my blood again and that isn't a good thing for Kennedy in this match. An unsettling calmness has come over my mind and body. Yet I am still focused on proving myself. [*Stu pauses as he grins*] Maybe I am already firing on all cylinders coming into this match. I hate saying this because I could be counting my chickens before they hatch. Maybe the match is now in my favor but in all honesty who knows.

    • Stu pauses and slowly inhales and exhales as he looks at his surroundings before looking back at the camera.

    Stu 'The Snake' St.Clair: This match is my only chance to prove my legacy and reputation and I will be damned if I am going to fail. Regardless this is it; this is the match that will shape where my career goes from here. You can bet your bottom dollar I am not going quietly. ...Trust me.

    • Stu's faces goes seriously as he spreads his arms to the side. Off in a distance a crow is heard cawing as the tide continues to splash on to the beach. The camera footage begins to fade out

    End of Scene.
    credit to xxhhhxx

  16. #16
    We Are Mythology
    JasonGryphon's Avatar

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    Nov 2013
    North Carolina
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    Where It All Began

    He has been beaten but he has not been broken. On Friday, Jason Gryphon put up a great fight against Chris Kennedy on Fight Night but he came up short sadly. The strange thing is that Jason seemed to be in a good mood after the loss. He took one of FWA’s best to the limit and come out the other side with a new batch of confidence. If he was able to do that to one of the greatest of all time, just think about what he was going to be able to do against Michael Garcia at the biggest show of the year. That is the thought that has been echoing inside the mind of the former North American Champion, in fact, that is the only thought that has been on his mind as the hours ticked away to Back in Business X. The history that these two men have had with each other is the stuff of legend. Jason was not going to be satisfied until he showed the world just what he is truly capable of doing when the spotlight is on him. That is the whole point behind the steel cage match. Jason did not want people talking about the Main Event or the Fatal Fourway on Monday morning. The one thing that Jason wanted people to talk about at their water coolers and on their social media outposts was the fact that he had finally broken the man that had caused him to feel so much pain in the past.

    Back in Business was only a few days away and Jason needed to be on his way to California. He has been told to get their as soon as possible by upper management due to the media appearances and things of that nature but there was something that he needed to do beforehand. He needed to go back to where this saga with “The Carnegie Carnivore” had begun. From Raleigh, NC, Jason got on a plane and headed to Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He hailed a cab and ordered the cabbie to take him to the Skydome. It was in Toronto where Jason Gryphon’s story began two years ago and it was also where this feud with Michael Garcia originated. When Jason finally arrived at the Skydome, he made his way to the top of the structure and into one of the nosebleed seats. The Blue Jays would be playing ball here later so he had his amigo, José Bautista, slip him a backstage pass that could be used while the facility while no one was there. Jason needed to be alone for this moment. He needed to take it all in. Back in Business 8 was where his saga began and this Sunday at Back in Business 10, he was finally going to close a chapter in the book of his life that started here two years ago. Jason found the seat that he was sitting in the first time he delivered a Pay Per View Promo and sat down in it. He closed his eyes and softly began to mediate.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Allow me to quote a great man, “Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around for awhile, you might miss it.” It is truly amazing how quickly life can move by. Two years ago when I made my FWA debut in this very building, I had no idea how far I was going to go. Being an FWA Superstar was a dream come true and that dream came to fruition in this glorious place. It was the beginning of something incredible and something that I would not change for an instant. I remember every second of that day. I remember that I was sitting in this very seat two years ago, smelling the cool air of the Canadian spring when I first heard a booming voice that would help to change me into the man that I was destined to become. When I opened my eyes, I saw a mountain of a man standing before me and before I could even offer him my hand, I could sense the type of man that he was. He was selfish. He wanted nothing to do with me before or during our match. I tried to do everything that I could in order to be supportive but sometimes you have to control your fate and that is why Garcia hates me. I took what I wanted. I literally jumped over him to take control of my life. I pinned our opponents and I got the victory that night at Back in Business 8 and ever since that night, the spotlight was all on me and it slowly drove Michael Garcia insane.

    Jason Gryphon opens his eyes and in a flash, a memory, or a vision, whatever you want to call it flashes on the screen. It shows Jason leaping off to top rope and onto James Sync to score his first win major win as an FWA Superstar.

    Jason Gryphon:
    It was set in stone that after that night, Michael Garcia and I were on a path to face each other. Of course, the road to that destination was a bumpy one. The Upper Management made Garcia and I team with each other a few more times before he finally showed his true colors and walked out on me during a tag match, foreshadowing his affinity to walk out when things get tough. We finally met each other at Payback and Garcia bested me but in order to do that, he had to cheat. He had to hit me with that damn hockey stick of his. That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to not just take my dignity; he wanted to take away my purpose in life. He cost me a chance to become the FWA World Champion and cost me my job in one fell swoop. That is another day that I will never forget. I don’t think that I have ever been that mad at anyone in my life. Garcia not only got rid of me but he was giving a shot at the X-Title. I had to make sure that I got my job back and I had to make sure that he never held that prestigious piece of history. I found my way back to the FWA thanks to the support of my fans and I found myself thrust into the X-Division Championship Match with Garcia and Dave Sullivan.

    On screen, another blast from the past is shown when Jason Gryphon leaped from on high onto Dave Sullivan to become the X-Division Champion for the first time.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Just like the Gryphon’s of ancient mythology, I flew, that night I flew into the record books and made a statement. That statement was that Jason Gryphon is the chosen one and that he is here to stay. When I held the X-Title over my head and when I dashed into the crowd to celebrate with my fans, it was one of the greatest moments of my life. I know that moment will be in the highlight reel of my career achievements when I go to that big arena in the sky. However, after the celebration came the degradation. Garcia truly believed that I had stolen something from him once again. The first time, it was the spotlight and this time it was the X-Title. He was determined to take my newly won championship away from me and he thought he had the Master Plan to do it. He believed that my Creatures, my Gryphon’s, were the source of my power and he thought that if he could isolate me from them that he would be unstoppable.

    The match was signed and it would either me by chance at redemption or it would be my downfall. That entire month was filled with such venom and hated toward each other, somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind; I knew that only one of us was going to walk away from it. That night would not only change the course of my career but of Michael Garcia’s as well. We fought inside of an Empty Arena and we took each other to the limit. Both of us pulled out every trick in our book to win but only one of us had what it took to get the job down and it was me. The grand finale came when I put Garcia’s carcass on the announcer’s table and I went to the top rope. Once again, I flew and it was beautiful. The full force of my body came crashing down on Michael Garcia and I drove him through the announce table. The referee counted the pin and I was the victor. That night my hand was raised and I ended the chapter in the story that I had with Michael Garcia. Little did I know that the story wasn’t ending, it was just at intermission.

    Another flash comes on the screen and it shows the ending to the Empty Arena Match where Jason leaped off the top rope and onto Michael Garcia to win the match.

    Jason Gryphon:
    After that night, I did not know that Michael Garcia had left the company. I just thought that he was going to take a couple of nights off and then launch a sneak attack like he had done so many times in the past. He had done it so much that I was expecting it. Sadly, that day never came and I eventually had to move on with my career. I put up the X-Division Title at every chance that I could in order to show that I was going to be a fighting champion. I defended it against people that deserved a shot and against people that didn’t. I was not going to discriminate when it came to proving that I was the best in the X-Division. I even defended the championship in an Ultimate X Match. I beat multiple men in one night and showed that I was the best that the company had to offer and inevitably, the time had come for a new champion to be crowned and it was Drew Stevenson. He took that title away from me after Ryan Hall interfered and I decided to move on from the X-Division.

    I knew that I was destined for greater things so I decided to throw my hat into the North American Championship race. I knew that I was the redheaded step child while Thomas Princeton and Shane McClean were fighting each other but I clawed by way into that match and I won. I became the North American Champion for the first time. I had an all too short reign as champion thanks again to Ryan Hall, who I eventually defeated in front of the entire world. After my defeat of Ryan Hall, I was finally being treated how I knew I should have been treated since I started with the company. I was giving shots at the World Championship but always in multiple man matches where people who I had angered in the past sabotaged my chances of becoming the Heavyweight Champion of the World or so I kept telling myself. During that time, most of the time I showed up at the arena half in the bag but thankfully I was able to hide my addiction well or I would have been fired. When the alcohol finally consumed me instead of the other way around, I saw the unthinkable occur.

    A flash of Michael Garcia’s return of the FWA is shown on the screen. His arrived would mean punishment for the X-Division as he focused his torment on those that could not defend themselves against someone of Garcia’s large frame.

    Jason Gryphon:
    I saw Michael Garcia return and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was if every accomplishment that I had achieved was being undone and I went even deeper into the bottle. Soon the bottle that was in my hand became a noose around my neck and it eventually broke it. I fell down a flight of stairs and for three months, I was away from the company that I loved and I was doomed to watch as Michael Garcia continued to torment those weaker than him. I should have been there to stop him. When the time finally came for me to return, I made a beeline straight for Garcia inside of the Carnal Contendership Match. When I was staring into his cold dead eyes in the middle of the ring, it was like it was 2013 again. I was the man that I was before and I loved it. As Garcia and I traded punch after punch in the middle of the ring, as weird as it sounds, I felt like I was home again, and when I dumped him over the top rope…it was better than sex. It was a feeling of pure unadulterated pleasure. Once again, I felt like I had put a period on the end on the sentence of the final chapter of my feud with Garcia. Once again, I could not have been more wrong.

    While I was doing my best to become a champion again, little did I know that Michael Garcia was forming a plan that would get me in the ring with him once again. After my title shot ended in a bust thanks to that asshole Cryos, I knew my Back in Business dreams we’re dashed. I didn’t have a match for the biggest show of the year and that was unacceptable for me. Finally, like manna from heaven, I again heard that booming voice that I heard all those months ago in Toronto. There would be an answer to my prayer but, unfortunately, it came from the Devil himself. Michael Garcia was in the ring challenging me for a match at the biggest show of the year and it was then I knew what I had to do. I had to agree to face him once more but if he wanted to face me one last time, then he was going to do it on my terms, and that is why I chose the Cage Match. For years, the Cage Match has been a staple in our industry for finishing a feud but there is another reason why I picked that match. For years, Garcia has been running from me and I am tired of it. For once, that bastard is going to have nowhere to run too.

    A flash of the Steel Cage lowering on Michael Garcia from Fight Night is shown on the screen. The image ends with Garcia and Gryphon looking each other dead in the eye as the cage surrounds them both.

    Jason Gryphon:
    So why am I telling you this? Why do I have to show you and tell you about things that have happened in the past? It’s simple, it’s because some people do not have the capability to learn from the past and Michael Garcia is one of those people. After all of the pain and the sorrow that we have put each other through, Garcia comes back, bends over like a Frat Pledge, and screams, “Thank You Sir, I’ll have other.” He doesn’t realize that before we have ever stepped foot in the ring with each other, I have already won. I have evolved beyond the person that I was the last time we fought against each other. I have taken the best in the business to the limit, I have beaten Hall of Famers, and I have beaten World Champions. I am better than the man that I was before but Garcia is still the same school yard bully that he was two years ago. He is still picking on those that cannot defend themselves like the coward that he has always been. I know that there is only one way to get rid of a bully and that is to be the one that stands up against his reign of destruction.

    I am going to be the young child in the playground that stands up to the bully, punches him in the nose, and sends him crying home to his momma. I have always been the one person with the capability to stand up to Garcia when he gets too big for his britches and that is not going to change. This Sunday, I am finally going to finish the story that we begin all of those months ago. It will end the same way all fairy tales do, with the hero getting his hand raised as the dragon lays dead in his cave with his head cut off. I am the hero of our story Garcia. You want to call me a Power Ranger, you can go right ahead because anyone that was a kid in the 90's know that at the end of EVERY episode, The Power Rangers always win. You cannot see the hatred and disgust that people have for you when you come out for one of your matches. You have everything it takes to be a hero and yet you choose to be the villain and that is what our story has been about from the very beginning. I made the choice to fly during our debut at Back in Business 8, I made the choice to fly when I cast you out of the FWA in the Empty Arena Match, and I will fly once again at Back in Business X.

    Jason Gryphon stands to his feet and slowly makes his way down out of the nose bleed section with a smile on his face.

    Jason Gryphon:
    This Sunday when Garcia and I are across the ring from each other, I know that there is only one ending to our story and I am the author whose hands are on the keyboard writing it. It will end when the ring announcer says, “Your Winner: “Living Mythology” Jason Gryphon.” That will be the period, that will be the end of the sentence, and that will be the end my saga with Michael Garcia. It may have taken longer to end our story than it takes George R. R. Martin for write one chapter in Game of Thrones but it will be more beautiful than Emilia Clarke’s frequent nudity in Season One on the HBO adaption. The ending to our story, Garcia, has always been my design. It has been mine to craft to shape and to form into reality. I thought that I did this in our Empty Arena Match when I crashed onto your body and sent you out of the company for more than a year. This time I will make sure the punishment I dished out during that match will seem like a sunny day in the park! I will put it simply so that Garcia can understand this when he hears it. After this Sunday I am done with Michael Garcia once and for all.

    The two of us have been doing this run around with each other for years but I know in my heart that the time has come to call it a day. If either of us are going to become something more than what we are, it is time for us to branch out onto bigger and better opponents and onto those that will give us a challenge. I will not be stuck in an eternal battle with Michael Garcia for my whole career. We aren’t Batman and The Joker or Popeye and Bluto. If I am being perfectly honest with myself Garcia, I have grown tired of you. I have grown tired of my career being defined by events that have taken place in the past. I have grown tired of living in the past and Michael, you are my past. After this Sunday, I will no longer define myself by all of the things that I have done in the past. After this Sunday, I am going to begin anew. I will burn myself at the ashes and rise like the Phoenix. I will be a new man and everything that we have done to each other in the past will be just that, the past.

    Jason slowly begins the long walk down the concrete stairs of the stadium, pausing for a moment on each step as looks out at the place of his figurative birth. After every step, there is a flash of someone of Gryphon’s best moments as an FWA Superstar. Some of the flashes have him winning championships while others simply show him with his hand raised after big matches.

    Jason Gryphon:
    If it is one thing that I have learned over the past two years as I am traveled back and forth with FWA across the globe, it is that there are two kinds of people in this world. There are men that were put on this planet to create and then there are people who were meant to destory. I was put on the planet to build an empire of hope and of change, to fight for the little guy and never give up. Garcia is the other side of that coin. He is the Darkness whereas I am the Light. Seemingly, his only purpose in life has been to destroy what others have tried to build, to spread fear and hated to the masses, and to only fight for himself. It is one of the reason why our pathes crossed in the first place. We were both fighting separate yet equal battles. I fight for something greater than myself while “The Carnegie Carnavore” fight only for the fame and to line his own pockets. It is a sad and pathetic way to spend your life because when push comes to shove, if you never fight for anyone other than yourself, you will end up fighting the biggest battles all alone.

    This is the biggest battle of your life Michael, make no mistake about that. After this Sunday, I do not care what you do for the rest of your FWA Career, but whatever it is, you will do it far away from me. Our finale will be a mixture of sweat and blood and pain and pleasure and agony and adulation. Once the dust has settled, you will be a piece of my past that I will enjoy forgetting. Once and for all, you and I will be done with each other. I am destined for greater things than you Garcia and after this Sunday, I will let you do what you do best, I will let you run away. You can sit at home and watch as I become what I have been destined to be since the first moment that you and I stepped foot into the ring together, the FWA World Champion! That is my destiny and it is inevitable! I am Living Mythology! I am Jason Gryphon, The Undeniable Future of this business!

    Jason’s words begin to echo throughout the arena before he makes his out of the arena but before getting into a taxi that he hails down, he says one last thing to the camera.

    Jason Gryphon:
    You have always been a toy for me to bat around at my pleasure Garcia, something for me to sharpen my claws on before I move onto bigger and better prey. You’re not fun to play with anymore and I’ve outgrown you.

    The scene fades to black with Jason Gryphon, the former X-Champion and the former North American Champion, once again smiling a wicked smile before the biggest night of his career at Back in Business X.

  17. #17

    Shawn's Avatar

    Join Date
    Aug 2014
    Rep Power


    12 Steps
    Radio Silence

    That is all we’ve heard for almost the last month from the Rockstar, “Randy Ramon.” The last anyone heard from him, he was completely and utterly dejected. The once great empire of revELution had crumbled at the hands of the Movement, sending Randy spiraling out of control. Suddenly he was rolling downhill faster than a boulder in the Temple of Doom, was a bigger mess than the entire city of Baltimore and more out of control than a Charlie Sheen, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears weekend getaway in Vegas. It was bad. Like being stuck in quicksand, the harder he tried to escape, the further he fell. So after months of staring at the little business card in his pocket, he finally made the call. Randy checked himself into “His House” Rehab center in California, where they teach that: “There is life after addiction.” And that’s what Randy came to believe. He emerged two weeks later, on the road to being a changed man. He was ready to start that life after addiction. He was ready to start that life – with her. With Ayla. And then… and then? And then.

    “And then nothing.”

    A voice proclaims from the darkness. The voice is different, but new, at the same time. It’s obviously the voice of Randy Ramon, but it’s brimming with a new level of confidence, mixed with a hint of acceptance and a twinge of rage. There is an unwavering firmness in his voice that has not previously been there. He leans into view, looking healthier than we have ever seen him. He wears a black t-shirt and has his hair pulled back in a tail. Only his upper half is in view, as he leans forward in his chair, looking directly into the hearts of anyone watching.

    “Allow me to reintroduce myself to all of you. My name is Randy Ramon, and I am an alcoholic. I am an addict. I am weak, and I am shaken, but I am not broken. Even without the support system I believed I had in place, I am clean now. I haven’t had a drink in 36 days. It’s been 36 days since I woke up, unable to stand, unable to speak a coherent word, unable to fathom losing the Tag Team Championships. I’ve expressed on numerous occasions how much they meant to me. Mile High – the night we won them – was my ‘good day,’ that I was still living high off of. During our entire reign, I buoyed myself with the fact that I was a champion – I made something of myself. And the minute that was gone, the minute I was pinned, that all came crashing down. I had nothing. Just alcohol. Just pills. Just darkness. And it was at that very minute, dragging myself across the bedroom floor to the bathroom – and ultimately not making it – that I realized the truth. I saw my deepest demons in that vomit stain. I finally understood that:

    [Step 1] “I have no control over alcohol and drugs. My life has become unmanageable.”

    “So as soon as I could put two words together, I made that phone call. One packed bag and a short plain ride later I was in rehab. I didn’t call Ayla before I went, and at the time, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you why. I would have thought that it was out of cowardice, not wanting to face her, but now? Now I know that I didn’t tell her because I needed to do it alone. It had to be MY decision to go, it had to be MY decision to stay, it had to be MY decision to put in the time; and I’m better for it. I never wanted to ignore you Ayla; that was never my intention. In fact it was quite the opposite. Numerous times I reached for the phone to text you, but something held me back every time. It just wasn’t the right time of day. Then a day became a week, and the week became two, and two weeks became the day of Crossfire, and before I could find you, the Movement was on you. I know you were upset that I saved you, but what was I supposed to do? I sure wasn’t going to stand by and let them take you out. Sure, I love attention, we’ve always known that, but while I was laid up I realized something:

    [Step 2] “I came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.”

    “Now most addicts believe that higher power to be God, or Allah, or whoever they worship. The Movement believes that to be Jimmy King. Everyone has their own vision of the higher power, but mine is unique. It’s the one thing I would never achieve as a member of RevEL. One thing I would never achieve as long as I let drugs and alcohol and addiction consume me. Something I would never attain as long as I’m spending late nights in the gutter instead of working out, training, growing, and developing. My higher power is the FWA World Heavyweight Championship. It is what drives me, what compels me, what makes me get out of bed in the morning and what makes me get to bed early at night. For as much as you did for me Ayla, before you kicked my head into the front row, I already came to realize that it was time for me to take that next step – alone. In fact:

    [Step 3] “I made the decision to turn my will and my life over to becoming the FWA World Heavyweight Champion.”

    “So the minute I left His House and flew back to Detroit, I began watching as much tape as possible. Toner, Humanity, Stevenson, Gabrielle, Kennedy… anyone I could fathom being in my way. I pulled countless all-nighters scouting any and all competition I could think of. Red Bull was my best friend. I took notes and readied myself for our rematch at Back in Business. I wasn’t going to get pinned again, not by some no-name sea biscuit jabroni who happened to get lucky one time and now thinks he’s all that. I wasn’t going to let us down again. I wasn’t going to let YOU down, but I was going to be ready for anything. I’d be ready for any enemy who might stand before me. And the minute your leg flinched and my teeth scattered across the ring, I realized the grave mistake I had made: my biggest enemy was the one right beside me. My trust, my support system, everything I thought I knew had just come tumbling down, leaving me to second guess everything. So I had to:

    [Step 4] “Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself.”

    “I dug deep. I drilled down deep into my inner subconscious. And do you want to know what I found? I am by no means perfect. Not even close. I have my issues and my demons, but you know what? I was a damn good partner. I held up my end of the bargain for SIX MONTHS. I was the best damn partner you’ve ever had or ever will. And because you’ve got your polka dot panties in a bunch, you want to blame ME for our loss? Two can play that game sweetie. I could point out that you weren’t there to make the save. I could point out that you left ME hanging. I could point out any number of things that spin it to look like it’s your fault we lost, but I won’t. I’m a bigger man than that. I didn’t used to be, but I am now. I’m above petty blame throwing. Plus, if I wasn’t, I would blame Toner. It’s obviously his fault. Jokes aside, I wasn’t at my best during our title defense. I can admit that; and that allows me to finally:

    [Step 5] “Admit to God, myself, and another human being the exact nature of my wrongs.”

    “That’s what I’m doing right now. That’s why I’m here.”

    Randy stands from his seated position. He lifts the camera from its stationary perch and spins it around. It becomes clear that he is in an empty, dark, church basement. A circle of empty chairs surround him. Banners on the wall read “Alcoholics Anonymous” and “12 Steps.”

    “I’ve come here tonight to admit my wrongs. I’m going to lay everything out there for God, for you Ayla, for me… and for everyone who ever doubted me. For everyone who ever sold me short, for everyone who ever said I was nothing, for everyone who I’ve wrongly put my trust in, or has wrongly put their trust in me. This is my next step. This is my penance.”

    The camera begins moving again, bringing an eerie sight into view. A circle of lit candles is on the floor, a bottle of Tullamore Dew sits in its center. Randy places the camera down in a position to film the following scene. He takes a deep breath, steps to the center of the circle, and drops to his knees.

    Randy remains silent for a few long moments, before turning his eyes to the heavens and letting everything go.

    “God, Randy here. I know I haven’t always been the best disciple, heck, I’ve never been. I’ve always cared more about myself than I have anyone else. I’ve always cared about women and booze and drugs more than I did making this world a better place. More often than not, I’ve taken from everyone else, to give to myself and fulfill my misguided ghosts; Ghosts that have haunted me for a long, long time; Ghosts of my mother; Ghosts of a boy who was thrust into a place of responsibility long before he was ready for it, and spent his entire life trying to regain his adolesence. I’ll never fully understand why I had to go through everything I went through, but I finally understand now that it’s all a part of a grander plan. I had to go to that place, to get to this one. I know that now.

    I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. I’m sorry for the people I’ve hurt; the dreams I’ve shattered; the expectations I haven’t met. I’m sorry for the harm I’ve caused others; the pain I’ve caused my family; my friends. I’m sorry for all the times I blamed you for all of my own shortcomings: my weaknesses, my failures, my ineptitudes. I know now that I was merely an iron in the fire, being tempered for a greater cause. I pray some day you will show me that cause, because for as much as I’ve been through, I imagine there is a great reason for me still being here today.

    I know now that I cannot do it alone. I need your guidance, your support, your courage, your intervention, if I’m going to stay on this road. I offer the following up to you as a sign of my dedication.”

    Randy lowers his eyes from the heavens and directs them to the bottle of Whiskey in front of him. He grasps it firmly in his left hand, allowing his eyes to linger on it for a good ten seconds. Finally, in one swift motion, he rears back and launches the bottle into the wall, shattering it on impact. He stares on in silence as he watches his demons roll down the wall and spread across the cold tile floor. The silence carries on long enough to make the viewer uncomfortable, but he soon averts his eyes away from the past.

    “Dearest Ayla, I want to be sure that you understand that the impact you have had on the past six months of my life has not been lost on me. Without your help and instruction, for lack of a better word, I would not be where I am today. I’m sorry that I caused you pain and was so difficult to deal with, but that wasn’t the real me. The real me is the tattered man you see kneeling before you. I understand how that might now make sense, but I guarantee that over time you will understand.

    Further, I understand and accept why you did what you did, when you went all Pele on my face. I forgive you for it. I know that I had it coming. I was never a good friend to you, and I was rarely there when you needed me. I drug you into all sorts of crazy antics, sometimes just to get a fix. I put you in numerous uncomfortable positions over the past six months, and there are not words strong enough to express how sorry I am.

    All of that said, we have a match this weekend at Back in Business X, and I couldn’t be less excited about it. Bluntly, I don’t want to fight you. Before you get all out of sorts, it has nothing to do with your gender. It has everything to do with the fact that even though I can still taste your boot, you’re still my best friend. How sad is that? How pathetic am I? How pathetic is it that the person who drop-kicked my face through the uprights is still the closest thing I have to a stable friendship? Look, I know our match has to have a winner, per the stipulation, but the way I see it? We’re both losers. No one wins a battle of pride. There’s never a winner of the quick draw.

    But I know it’s what you want, and I owe you that much. As much as you’ve done for me, the least I can do is give you the chance to let all of that frustration out. The least I can do is let you get everything off your chest and inflict as much physical pain on me as I emotionally inflicted on you. And after the match, after a winner has been determined, after we’ve left it all out there, I’m going to stand in the center of the ring, extend my hand to you, and thank you personally for everything you’ve done for me. I owe you that much.

    My only hope is that after Back in Business, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

    eh, you know the rest.”

    Randy slowly and ceremoniously blows out the candles one... by... one... until he is completely consumed by the darkness. The sound of footsteps is the last thing we hear before the feed fades away.

  18. #18
    Huggin' and Kissin'
    Tig's Avatar

    Join Date
    Aug 2010
    Rep Power
      Country                    Ireland


    Beach Cigar Lounge
    Friday before Back In Business X

    Sipping from the finest whiskey the American dollar can buy, toking on the fattest cigars that Cuba can provide, clad in the sharpest suits that Mr. Hugo Boss could possibly design and looking lavishly comfortable in the VIP booth of the Beach Cigar Lounge is Thomas Princeton, Christian Quinn and Danny Toner. Three points of a triangle that when joined together create excellence. Executive Excellence. The three men are laughing haughtily, clinking glasses and generally looking like their having a better time than anyone else in the world. Thomas Princeton directs a question at his fellow two pioneers of everything that is exemplary.

    Thomas Princeton: “Well, gentlemen, not that I need to ask but Back In Business is a mere two days away. Are you ready?”

    Christian Quinn actually scoffs aloud at Princeton’s query.

    Chirstian Quinn: “Thomas, Thomas, Thomas … you can make The Man they call Deus laugh at the best of times so Christian Quinn must assume that this is some type of joke. Are we ready? Are Christian Quinn and Danny Toner ready? Are the epitome of excellence ready? Thomas, my dear, dear friend … we were born ready.”

    Danny Toner:“Tommy, Christian’s right. We’ve been ready since the day we came together to reform the greatest stable to ever grace the FWA. The Movement? HUMANITY? Nightmare? I wouldn’t be worried.”

    Thomas Princeton: “I assure you I most certainly am not worried. A person like I doesn’t allow any trace of worry enter my mind. I merely wished to talk … shop … as it were.”

    Danny Toner: “You wanna talk shop, Tommy? Fine by me, how’s this; Christian and I are going to go out there and outwrestle, outfight and basically outdo HUMANITY and Nightmare. We’re going to become the FWA Tag Team Champions – something that should’ve happened a very long time ago.”

    Danny grits his teeth as he snarls the last few words.

    Christian Quinn: “Indeed, Daniel. Christian Queen foresees your frustrations at being unable to capture the FWA Tag Team Championships coming to an end this Sunday. Christian Quinn is never wrong. We are better than HUMANITY and Nightmare, we are stronger, faster, better looking. We are Excellence. We will show that barbaric HUMANITY that he can go as hardcore as much as he foolishly wishes and Nightmare will learn that his winning of the FWA Tag Team Championship on his debut was merely beginner’s luck. Luck comes and go but excellence, excellence is forever.”

    Toner chillingly chirps into Quinn’s speech with his gutsy New York accent.

    Danny Toner: “And if that don’t work, I’m going to kick both of them right in the head until they stop moving.”

    Danny slams back his whiskey as Christian and Thomas share a discreet but knowing look. Toner’s vicious comment hasn’t gone amiss.

    Thomas Princeton: “That’s quite an untoward way of putting things Daniel, I-”

    Danny Toner: “Danny.”

    Christian Quinn raises an eyebrow but all the same skirts around the name issue quite easily.

    Christian Quinn: “Listen Mr. Toner, Christian Quinn and our esteemed General Manager are aware of how much winning the FWA Tag Team Championships mean to you and The Man they call Deus can guarantee you that you will be walking out there with one of the straps around your waist.”

    Thomas Princeton: “Absolutely! I have no doubt in my mind that Executive Excellence will be walking out the champions. And then, with gold in our possession, we can really push on.”

    Danny Toner: “You’re damn right we will. One way or another.”

    Toner signals for another whiskey as Princeton and Quinn once again look at each other, this time with a lot more worry etched into their faces.

    Thomas Princeton: “Uh, actually we were going to pick up the bill and head on. Christian is a guest speaker somewhere and I’ve got to meet with the higher-ups in FWA to finalize Back in Business.”

    Quinn interjects.

    Christian Quinn: “And to make sure that a capable, Fight Night official is refereeing the match. Let’s go Daniel.”

    Danny Toner: “Danny. You two go on, I’ll get the bill. I’m staying here for a while.”

    Quinn looks like objecting as the waiter places a glass of whiskey on the table but Thomas shakes his head at Christian and motions that they should leave Danny too it. Without saying a word Christian and Thomas leave their booth and make their way towards the exit. Quinn glances back towards his tag team partner but Danny is looking the opposite direction lighting a new cigar. Is Danny Toner’s head in the right place? Just how dangerous is he going to be when Executive Excellence take on The Movement? Perhaps most importantly; what’s going to happen to Danny Toner if Executive Excellence don’t win the FWA Tag Team Championships?

    Ray’s Bar
    Friday before Back In Business X

    A tall man in a white shirt is behind a bar cleaning a glass with a cloth and whistling tunelessly. He places the pint-glass on the oak top of the bar in front of the various taps which contain the brew this particular pub have on offer. An unseen man shouts from off-screen.

    ??: “Seeya tomorrow Ray!”

    The barman, Ray, stops whistling and merrily shouts back.

    Ray: “Til the morning, brother!”

    We hear a door slam shut and Ray looks to his left and asks a question, seemingly to nobody.

    Ray: “Well Danny, last in the house, one for the road brother?”

    The camera pans out and in an alcove at the end of the bar, surrounded by cigarette smoke, sits a disheveled looking Danny Toner. The top two buttons of his purple shirt are undone, his tie pulled down loose around his chest. He looks up, glassy eyed, and responds.

    Danny Toner: “Pint and a chaser Ray.”

    Ray: “Course. I’ve to do the cash, I’ll be about twenty minutes but I do have a home to go to, you okay with leaving after that?”

    Danny Toner: “No problem Ray, I’ve too meet somebody anyway.”

    Ray: “Fine by me.”

    Ray begins pulling the pint and resumes whistling. We get a closer look at the usually magnificent Danny Toner. The whites of his eyes are riddled with red markings and the bags he is sporting under them make it seem that he’s after being on the receiving end of a few heavy punches. He brings his half smoked white-tipped cigarette to his lips and inhales deeply before flicking the ash into the ash-tray in front of him. The ash-tray is strewn with cigarette butts, indeed an empty packet lies adjacent it with an unopened twenty pack resting on the table beside it. Chain-smoking, tired eyes – all the signs of stress. Danny takes the last swig of his pint just as Ray plants a fresh one and a drum of whiskey down in front of him.

    Danny Toner: “Cheers.”

    Ray: “20 minutes brother.”

    Danny nods as Ray moves off – presumably to do the cash – and then proceed to stare into his pint of beer. He lifts the glass to his mouth and takes a hearty gulp, swishing the alcohol around his mouth before swallowing. He taps his fingers against the table and jigs his leg up and down. The sound of a door creaking open fills the room, Danny pays no heed, probably Ray coming back for the keys to the office or something of the sort. He does, however, jolt at the sound of his phone ringing. He fumbles around his pocket and looks at the screen – Thomas Princeton. He sighs and clicks reject call. Executive Excellence behavior is the last thing Danny wished to deal with right now. Danny takes another gulp of his pint before talking out-loud, to nobody in particular, as if hearing his own voice would be some sort of reassuring sound.

    Danny Toner: “Jesus Christ, I’d kill for a line right about now.”

    ??: “Then have one you pussy.”

    Danny jerks his head up, startled by the voice and the sudden appearance of company. His confused expression turns to a slight smile.

    Danny Toner: “Brennan, old friend, what are you doing here?”

    The visual widens so that we can see Toner’s unexpected comrade; standing at nearly seven foot tall, with his blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, in a checkered shirt and adorning his chunky designer spectacles stands Brennan O’Brien, fellow New Yorker, best friend and sometimes manager of Toner’s ex-TNT partner Marcus Thane. He grins back at Toner before pulling out a seat and sitting down. He reaches for Toner’s cigarette box.

    Brennan O’Brien: “May I?”

    Danny Toner: “By all means. Fancy seeing you here. What brings you to this shithole of a pub?”

    Brennan O’Brien: “My sister goes out with the proprietor of this shithole of a pub.”

    Danny looks taken back and incredulously asks.

    Danny Toner: “Ray!?”

    Brennan O’Brien: “Mhmm … he’s alright you know. He’s from The Bronx, not far from our neck of the woods. I don’t mean to skip the pleasantries but fuck me Toner, you look like a sack of shit. What gives?”

    Danny Toner: “Never one to beat around the bush, where ya Brennan?”

    Brennan O’Brien: “I call it like I see it and right now? I’m seeing one sorry-ass looking motherfucker. What’s got the playboy in the dumps? Gabby not textin’ ya back?”

    Danny for the second time already in this exchange, looks taken back. He raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

    Danny Toner: “How do you know about Gabr-”

    Brennan bluntly cuts across Toner.

    Brennan O’Brien: “Marcus.”

    This time Toner looks slightly … guilty?

    Danny Toner: “Oh, uh, yeah … how is Marcus? I’ve been meaning to-”

    Brennan O’Brien: “Save your breath, he knows you’ve been busy. He doesn’t blame you for … well, you know … not going to see him or anything. He’s doing fine now, still going to be on the sidelines for a bit.”

    Danny Toner: “Yeah, well, maybe I’ll call him.”

    Brennan O’Brien: “He’d like that. All he talks about is how you’re finally going to be Tag Team Champion. He’s a bit disappointed it ain’t TNT but hell, as he said; anyone but Ramon is a win in his book.”

    The two share a chuckle but Danny abruptly stops and takes a swig of his drink, diverting his gaze from Brennan to the bar-floor. Brennan looks at Danny quizzically.

    Brennan O’Brien: “Danny just what the hell has gotten into you? You’re about to reach in the upper-echelons of FWA, you’re going to become a champion and you’re going to do it on the biggest stage of them all; Back In Business! This is the type of recognition you’ve always wanted and with Princeton backing you, the sky is the limit! What’s wrong with you?”

    Danny goes to speak a couple of times but nothing comes out. He finishes the last of his pint and with a thud bangs it down on the table. Sheepishly, he looks at Brennan and then in a stony tone of voice he makes quite a big statement.

    Danny Toner: “I don’t think I can do it Brennan, I’m going to choke again. I’m not going to win.”

    Brennan O’Brien: “Are you messing right now or what Toner? This doesn’t sound like the Danny I know at all.”

    Danny Toner: “That’s just the thing Brennan, maybe this is the real Danny Toner. Maybe all the huffing and puffing is just that – hot air. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, maybe I am the problem.”

    Brennan O’Brien: “What do you mean?”

    Danny Toner: “Look at what I was doing before TNT; absolutely nothing. I was losing every week, nobody cared about me and I was going absolutely nowhere in the FWA. Then I started teaming with Marcus and we were coming within a whisker of winning the FWA Tag Team Championships. Sure, we never did but we came damn close and Christian and Thomas convinced me that it wasn’t my shortcomings, it was Marcus’. I won’t lie to you Brennan, no disrespect intended to Marcus, I believed them. Then I started teaming with Christian and what happened? We still didn’t become the Tag Team Champions. Marcus and Christian have both proven their worth as singles stars, I haven’t. I could sit here and blame my partners, blame dodgy referees, bad officiating, being in handicapped situations but one thing I can’t blame is the person I was teaming with. I took the pin-falls, I failed to make a big impact in the matches. It’s not Marcus or Christian’s fault that I haven’t won the FWA Tag Team Championship; it’s mine. I’m the one that hasn’t been delivering, I’m the one that can’t beat Randy, I’m the one that just doesn’t show up when it matters. Hell I couldn’t even secure a win for us when I was in the ring against Lord Dog! I’m a con-man Brennan but the person I’ve been fooling for the longest time is myself. I’ve been pulling a long con on myself from the moment I signed on the dotted line for the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. I’ve created opportunities for myself by leading people on, pulling the wool over their eyes and muddling the facts. I’ve failed to get a result when it matters time and time again and when Sunday rolls around? It’ll be no different. I’ll screw up again. That’s what I mean Brennan; I can talk the fucking talk like no other but when it comes down to it … I can’t walk the walk.”

    Danny hangs his head, perhaps in shame, perhaps in desperation. Brennan O’Brien, however, is having none of it.

    Brennan O’Brien: “Sweet suffering Christ, would you ever pick your head up you sorry sack of shit and stop being such a freaking baby.”

    Danny looks up a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face.

    Brennan O’Brien: “You’ve had a bad run of it lately, so what, get over it. Think back to when you were pulling your first street scam, did it work on the first punter? The second? Even the third? No. You were being caught out but you kept going and going until you perfected your scheme and then the suckers started falling for it hook, line and sinker. Think back to when you broke out as a sole trader with Toner Incorporated, did your first quarter turn a profit? Hell, did your first year? No! But you stuck to your guns and now you’re damn well loaded. You know what Danny, you need some home truths. I’ve seen a lot of guys come and go from the squared circle and you are one of the most charismatic, talented men I’ve seen step foot between them ropes. You need to remember you’re not even at this wrestling thing a year, you know better than anyone these things take time. Sure you haven’t broken through the glass ceiling just yet but all you need is the break and then you’ll never look back. Once Danny Toner gets something right, that’s it, there’s no turning back. You’re going to smash through the glass ceiling on Sunday and there’s going to be a rocket waiting on the other side for you Danny. I know it, Marcus knows it, management knows it, every fan on this planet – whether they like you or not – knows it; Danny Toner is going places, you’re going to be a somebody in this business. You win on Sunday Danny, you break through, hell … you could be the main event of Back In Business 11. That’s how good you are Danny, that’s how much potential you have. You’re just like everyone else, no matter what you try and say – you can flap your gums about how good you are but you need reassurance, you need to hear someone else say it and genuinely believe it and that somebody just happens to be me. You are that good Danny. Believe it.”

    Danny’s eyes had been on Brennan the whole time during his pep talk. He slowly nods his head. He could already feel the usual Toner confidence begin to creep back into his body.

    Danny Toner:“Thanks Brennan.”

    Brennan O’Brien:“Don’t mention it pal. No how about you do a little bump for old time’s sake, go and meet your Caramel goddess and enjoy yourself. You’ve a championship to win on Sunday.”

    Brennan produces a small bag of white powder and pours the whole contents of the bag onto the table between him and Danny. Danny’s eyes are glued to the white substance as Brennan dices it up into two hefty lines with his credit card. He rolls up a 20 dollar bill and sniffs one of the lines before handing it to Danny. Danny hesitantly takes the bill and looks at Brennan.

    Brennan O’Brien: “What dya say … champ?”

    Danny smiles and leans over the table and snorts the remaining line. Toner’s eyes widen and he lets out an exhilarating scream, oh how he’s missed it.

    Danny Toner: “Wooooo!”

    The little tingles of confidence Toner was feeling after O’Brien’s pep talk had now developed into full-scale overwhelming cockiness racing through his veins. Toner hadn’t felt this sensations since Marcus had got him off the stuff before Christmas. But now Toner remembered why he’d found it so hard to give up in the first place it made him feel untouchable. No, if you asked him right now he’d tell you he was untouchable. He’d tell you he had a championship to win on Sunday. A smarter person might tell you he was simply replacing his feelings of self-doubt with something worse. Toner didn’t care. This was always his vice. Toner was perked up and looking incredibly alert and ready for anything.

    Danny Toner: “Hey Brennan, Gabs is out at some gala, she’ll be out for the night. Let’s me and you go and paint the town red.”

    Brennan O’Brien: “Don’t take me up wrong here Danny, I’d love nothing more but are you sure? You’ve a big night on Sunday.”

    Danny Toner: “Don’t worry about that. The Movement? Good as beaten. That tag team championship will finally be around my waist. You’re an old friend and you’ve thought me something tonight but a newer friend thought me something different.”

    Brennan O’Brien: “And what’s that?”

    Danny Toner: “Excellence looks after itself baby.”
    Last edited by Tig; 04-29-2015 at 06:13 PM.

    3X World Tag Team Champion (w/Christian Quinn, w/Randy Ramon & w/Ryan Rondo)
    1X Gauntlet Champion


  19. #19
    Architect of BTB Shield

    Join Date
    Apr 2014
    Rep Power


    Timetis Choice
    *The scene opens up in the waiting area of the emergency room of a hospital. Amidst the calming and soothing tope walls, there is chaos abound as the area is teeming with activity. Patients moaning and screaming in pain, doctors and nurses rushing back and forth and family members shouting about the time it’s been since they’ve arrived have filled the air. Yet, even with all this chaos, there seems to be a distinct feeling of despair entering the hospital as Christopher’s mother and father, carrying their son in his arms, rush into the waiting area. They speed past the complaining people in the waiting room and rush straight up to the admittance desk, where three nurses and a secretary are shuffling through papers and rushing around. Christopher’s mother and father rush right up to the secretary, much to her surprise.*

    Christopher’s Mother: Excuse me, I need to know what…

    Secretary: Fill out these papers and have a seat in the waiting area.

    *Without looking up from her computer, the secretary shoves a clipboard at the family. But Christopher’s mother shoves the papers back at her.*

    Christopher’s Mother: You don’t understand. I need to know…

    Secretary: Fill out these papers and have a seat in the waiting area.

    *Once again, the secretary shoves the clipboard at Christopher’s mother. This time, however, the mother picks up the clipboard, throws it across the room and slams her hands down on the desk, startling the secretary!*

    Christopher’s Mother: HEY! My nephew is lying upstairs in a hospital bed all alone! We are his closest family AND YOU NEED TO TELL ME WHERE THE HELL HE IS NOW!!

    *Christopher’s father, Christopher and the secretary are all staring at this normally docile woman in shock for a moment before the secretary nods her head in understanding.*

    Secretary: What’s the boy’s name ma’am?

    Christopher’s Mother: Cross, his name is Devon Cross.

    *The secretary’s fingers fly over the keyboard as Christopher starts to wriggle around in his father’s arms. The clacking of the keyboard finally stops and the secretary looks up at Christopher’s mother.*

    Secretary: He’s in Room 340 on the third floor.

    *The family rushes to the elevator, the mother quickly pushing the Number 3 until the doors close. One ding later, Christopher’s family rushes off the elevator and towards Room 340. As they push open the doors to the wing, they see a doctor coming out of the room they’re heading to. Both Christopher’s father and mother yell to get the doctor’s attention as they continue to rush towards the room. The doctor turns to them and they finally stop in front of him.*

    Christopher’s Father: Are you Devon’s doctor?!

    Doctor: Yes I am. And you are?

    Christopher’s Mother: Mr. and Mrs. Worthy, Devon’s aunt and uncle. Is he okay?!

    *As the doctor starts to explain Devon’s current condition, Christopher’s father puts him down on the floor. Christopher, being as curious as his age should allow, sneaks away from his worried parents, around the doctor and into the hospital room of his cousin. As he makes his way into the room, the sound of the heart monitor’s steady beeping and the expansion and contraction of the breathing unit begin to fill his senses. Christopher starts to get nervous as he turns the corner to see his cousin Devon, lying on a gurney with a plastic mask over his mouth and a hospital gown on instead of clothes. As Christopher gets closer to him, he can see that his eyes are shut tight. Christopher looks at all the machines and monitors measuring his cousin’s vitals before turning his attention back to Devon. Christopher cautiously reaches for Devon’s hand. Slowly, his small hand inches toward his cousin’s before his fingers rest on Devon’s wrist…AND DEVON’S OTHER HAND GRABS CHRISTOPHER’S! Christopher’s mouth is agape as he looks up to Devon’s face and his eyes are wide open! AND THEY’RE ONYX COLORED!! Christopher begins to scream as loud as he can, but his scream seems to get lower and lower in volume as well as the beeping and the mechanical noises.*

    *As Christopher’s screams and the sounds of the bustling hospital continue to fade away, he does as well. As Christopher fades away, Cryos, dressed in a black suit with blue tie, fades into the picture, standing in Christopher’s place with his arm outstretched and his eyes shut. Christopher fades away and the hospital room seems to become brighter as Cryos opens his eyes, staring at the empty hospital bed.*

    Cryos: It was right here. As I stood here and my cousin’s grip squeezed my small hand, I looked into his dark eyes and it happened. This was the first real time I ever experienced fear. I was truly frightened to my core when I stared into the abyss in my cousin’s eyes. Since my match at Back In Business was set, I’ve only had one question on my mind.

    *Cryos’s cerulean and cold gaze turns to the camera.*

    Cryos: Do you experience fear, Hughes?

    *Cryos smirks before he continues.*

    Cryos: Last time we were face-to-face, you said that you weren’t scared. You said that you don’t feel fear. You’re very wrong Hughes. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, you feel fear. The fear of failure is always there. It was there when you took the test for Master in the Silat and Jiu Jitsu styles. It was there before every title opportunity and every title defense in the UFC and the FWA. The fear of failure is prevalent in targets like you. But the difference between me and targets like you is that targets lack understanding. I understand fear. I’ve understood it every day since I was last in this hospital room. And the thing I’ve come to understand about fear is that it’s a choice.

    *Cryos turns and heads towards the door as the camera begins to follow him out the door and down the hospital’s hallway.*

    Cryos: You see, people have had the wrong idea about me since I stepped foot in the FWA. People seem to think I’m TRYING to intimidate them, trying to instill fear in them to mess with their heads. The truth is I’m doing nothing of the sort. I’m not trying to scare anyone. I’m not trying to get people to fear me. I’m simply affording targets like you the luxury of knowing what’s going to happen to them. No more, no less. So if you choose to see it as trying to MAKE you fear me, then you really don’t understand fear at all. Fear isn’t something that can be instilled in someone. Fear is a choice that people make when their future is uncertain and they can’t see past the danger in front of them. I CHOSE to fear my cousin because I didn’t know what was going to happen in that moment. I didn’t know what my future held right then. But I do know what is in my future now, as well as what’s in yours.

    *Cryos finds a vending machine in a small waiting area on the wing. Cryos walks up to the coffee machine and starts to stick his hand in his pocket to look for change.*

    Cryos: Since you were “kind” enough to tell me what I can expect from you, a starving lion ready to eat the first thing that comes along, allow me to tell you what you can expect in your very near future.

    *Cryos casually pulls a dollar bill out of his pocket and feeds it into the machine. As it whirs and the cup drops to the bottom of the dispenser, Cryos turns to face the camera.*

    Cryos: Your future is in the room we just left. Your future is going to be filled with the sounds of monitors and breathing apparatuses instead of the cheers of your fans. Instead of ring time, you’re going to have to have rehab time just to be able to walk again. Your future will be here in this hospital, watching me on that television take my rightful place as the North American Champion while you watch your former glory continue to fade away. I want you to fully understand what’s going to happen to you so you have plenty of time to think about it in that bed.

    *The whirring sound stops and Cryos reaches down, lifts the door of the coffee machine, takes his cup out and shuts the door back. Cryos stands back up and sips his coffee before turning back to the camera.*

    Cryos: In your storied history here in the FWA, you’ve been through multiple matches and too many violent scenarios to list. But in all of that time here, of all the things you’ve done, you’ve never faced someone like me. You’ve never faced someone that’s willing to put your body and your career on the line just to get ahead. You’ve never squared off against someone who’s willing to cripple you just to succeed where you’ve failed. You’ve never stepped in the ring with someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take your life just to get what they want. While your morals hinder you from taking every opportunity presented to get the job done, mine do not. I’m willing to do anything and everything I have to do to get back to facing Drew Stevenson for MY title. I will end your career. I will confine you to a wheelchair if it means facing Stevenson again. So you go ahead and think that you’re a lion all you want to. I know I’m the guy yards away with a lion in my scope, ready to shoot him right between the eyes to get to my real future. Bring your best Hughes. Bring absolutely everything you have at me and then some. That way, when you’re lying in that hospital bed down the hallway, you’ll know that even your very best wasn’t enough to stop me.

    *Cryos smirks as he takes another sip from his coffee before turning his head over to the small couch in the waiting area. Cryos slowly fades away as Christopher, sipping a cup of hot chocolate, and his family is on the couch waiting for some news. The doctor and a police officer come around the corner and Christopher’s mother and father stand to meet them.*

    Christopher’s Mother: Doctor, can we take our nephew home now?

    Doctor: We’re still waiting for Devon’s vitals to get better and the social worker to draw up some paperwork for that. But before he goes home, Detective Welk has some questions for him.

    Christopher’s Father: Detective? Questions about what?

    Christopher’s Mother: Hasn’t he suffered enough tonight?! Can’t this wait until a later time?!

    Detective Welk: I’m sorry ma’am it can’t. When Devon was brought in, there were traces of accelerant on his clothes and on his hands.

    Christopher’s Father: Acce…you mean this wasn’t an accident?

    Detective Welk: Unfortunately no. We believe that Devon either might have witnessed who set the fire and miraculously survived or…

    Christopher’s Mother: Or what?!

    Detective Welk: …or he may have set the fire himself.

    My BTB: 2013-The NXT Generation


  20. #20

    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    Rep Power
      Country                    England



    The scene opens to a a hooded figure standing in the rafters of a decaying arena. The figure stands with his head facing down. The hood is covering his whole face. The rafters are poorly lit, as you would expect, and the figure is standing on a wood walkway that has seen a lot of better days. Behind the figure there is part of the handrail broken in half and just sitting there exposed. The figure removes the hood and we see FWA World Heavyweight Championship contender, Phillip A. Jackson’s face. Jackson is smirking, almost proudly, despite his surroundings. Jackson looks around and holds his arms out to show everyone that this is what is here as if he were showing someone around his apartment.

    | Phillip A. Jackson |
    Here I am. Hiding away in the rafters. In some forgotten arena that was destroyed by time. It seems fitting because once again, I am on the outside looking in on FWA again but don’t pity me. I am looking down on FWA. Every pathetic excuse for a wrestler that isn’t me or isn’t in The Movement are below me. I was too happy. I was too content. I was too complacent. That goes hand in hand. Being content is the worst thing I could be. Being content destroyed me. Being content made me complacent. Complacency isn’t who I am. I am something special in this business. Guys walk in the door and say they are the shit day one. I walked in and out this company more than a fat, lonely divorced guy in his mid forties walks into a strip club at two in the afternoon yet here I am. I am not the shit. I am not going to revolutionise this company. All the bullshit that wrestlers say when they get signed is exactly that…bullshit. In FWA’s case half of them are lucky they still have a job. They are scared because they are defined by this company. This company makes or breaks careers and Back in Business is the show that does it. For some people it is a big part of their career, just look at Chris Kennedy, a HUGE part of his legacy. For others it is something to be enjoyed win or lose. For me, Back in Business means nothing.

    Jackson pretends to be extremely shocked putting his hands on his cheeks and his mouth wide open before it slowly curls into a smirk and he wipes his hands down his face letting go at his chin.

    BLASPHEMY! they all cry…Week to week, pay-per-view to pay-per-view, it is all the same thing. When you are on the road. You have the same routine. Show, Hotel, Travel, Hotel, Show, Hotel, Travel…you get the picture. You don’t stop. You get through it anyway you can. There is only one thing that keeps me going. Regardless of the stage or the show. The thought of becoming World Champion once again. The fact it is Back in Business is just a coincidence. My main goal is not to main event Back in Business or when the Carnal Contendership. I don’t give a crap if they doubled my pay for doing it. I strive for one thing. Greatness. Greatness keeps me going. FWA resented me being great in their house. Their acceptance made me weak. It made me vulnerable and it made me be the one thing I never can be, mediocre. I tried to change for FWA but let’s be honest…You all love me the way I am even when you boo my ass out the building. I will wash away those crimes against humanity when I pin Ryan Rondo in the ring. Laugh all you want but I have already proven I can do it. I have proven I can stand up to Adrian Wolf. Devin Golden…well two outta three ain’t bad. I have proven that against the best in the business there is no-one better than me and with Jimmy King at my side…I am untouchable but what does being untouchable get me? Look down at the ring below us. What do you see?

    The camera pans down and we see something in the middle of the ring. As the camera zooms closer we can see it is the FWA Championship belt that Phillip A. Jackson once held. The camera comes back up to the rafters as we see Jackson smirking as he leans over the edge to look at the belt in the ring.

    That is the only relic I have to my success in FWA. Screw the North American Championship, I had to beat Darnell Porter and Clay Reitmeier to win it twice. My success is nothing more than one measly belt. Ryan Rondo did it, even though FWA basically handed it to him, Shane McLean did it. Anyone can win a world championship once. No hall of famer, who had a full career, has ever been a one time world champion. They can doubt you when you win a World Championship once. They can say it was a fluke. We all know that mine was deserved. I ended the Summer of Shane. The joyful, playful summer where Shane McLean was the name on everyone’s lips. Where is Shane now? Shane was a one trick pony who lucked his way into keeping the title as long as he did. Shane never faced a serious challenge until I finally wasn’t screwed by having four challengers. I beat Shane and I beat Ryan Rondo. That is what really drives me. I don’t want ONE belt to be my legacy. I don’t want the ‘new era’ I bought into FWA to be my legacy because everyone else surpassed me. Let’s cut it down to pure fact, I don’t care about Back in Business, I don’t care about Fight Night, CrossFire or any other pay-per-view that FWA has. I can be on CrossFire every single week. I am on pay-per-view once a month. That is normal, mundane crap. I care about me and only me. I have this insane idea that means people hate me. I want to be the best and I know I can be the best. People hate me for wanting to be the best I can be. I never lost sight of what I truly wanted. How I get there has never mattered. Where I do it? It doesn’t matter. This isn’t the biggest match of my career. It is not an honour to wrestle at Back in Business. This isn’t even my biggest match I have had in FWA. This is what I expect. I expect big matches on the biggest stages. This is me meeting expectations. I hold myself in high regard because I have some goddamn dignity. I am proud of who I am and if I am not World Champion then I am not beating my own standards. That is why Back in Business doesn’t matter. To put it into one sentence you can quote me on for years, Back in Business is a giant dick waving contest.

    Jackson wiggles his hips pretending to as he puts it ‘dick wave’ to highlight his point. Jackson points down as the vulgarity continues. It is a good 10 seconds before Jackson stops.

    It is all about who can get the highest on the card and in the biggest matches. Look at me I wrestled Gabrielle I must be great or I wrestled in the main event this year against James Syncidate…what a load of shit. Wrestlers love to hold tiny little bullshit things over you like they matter. They are unsatisfied that they can’t maintain the level of greatness I have maintained. That is how they get through the day-to-day grind. The find happiness in the little things they can hold over others. It is because they are pathetic. They are weak and they are lost. There is greatness in everyone but they are not willing to admit that everyone they know is holding them down. You think my wife dumped me?! Nope, almost one year ago I broke her fucking heart and I left her out of the blue and then I wanted to see her reaction as she watched me succeed but her jealousy boiled over and she heinously attacked me. She was holding me back. Everyone was holding me back. The N.E.O held me back, I would have rather stayed fire, I got a paid to sleep in my own bed, I would have rather been the guy in my forties going to the strip club at 2 in the afternoon than ever do something like The N.E.O again. There are two men in this company who have helped me and the rest of them have held me back. You all know who they are, Chris Kennedy and Jimmy King, Kennedy bought me to the show and King helped me steal it. That is why I stand at his side once again. It is not a hard decision. Ryan Rondo or Jimmy King? Now it is time to steal the show on the night that matters most to all those pathetic loser who act like this night is different to any other. Great Athletes don’t allow the stage to dictate them they dictate the stage. Why act like this is a special occasion? Why change anything? Look at all the bullshit that wrestlers had to do this week. Special Entrances? Press Conferences? Talk Shows? Photo Shoots? This is the one week where everyone acts like they care. Wrestlers, Fans, The mass media who ignore us for fifty one other weeks. Why do you think I didn’t say a word in the build up? It’s not because I have nothing to say…you all know I always have something to say. It is because I don’t buy into all this bullshit that people believe is important. Adrian, Ryan and Devin all had their piece on CrossFire where they all promised to become champion. They all buy into that shit. They all want be heard because this week is important to them. I simply allowed my actions to speak because I would have just been another voice if I would have spoken. Did it not intrigue you why the biggest mouth in FWA said nothing? I will speak when I win. I don’t need to get on the mic and say I will be World Heavyweight Champion because I prefer standing in the middle of the ring, boos ringing around and I stand with a smile on my face with three simple words…I…Am…Champion…

    Jackson shuts his eyes and imagines the moment. Mouthing the word ‘Champion’ over and over again living in the moment where that happens. Jackson snaps back to reality and smirks.

    You have probably all heard enough about why this is NOT important to me. Now let’s look at why Back in Business is important to everyone else. I think I will start with the one wrestler I am sick of, our FWA World Heavyweight Champion, Ryan Rondo. Back in Business is his chance to legitimise his reign as FWA World Heavyweight Champion. If he wins then he gets a tonne of respect because he won on the biggest stage against Phillip A. Jackson and some other guys. People want to see Ryan Rondo do it because Ryan Rondo is a ‘nice guy’ who worked his ass off to be a World Champion. Ryan Rondo ‘deserves’ it. Ryan Rondo doesn’t deserve anything. FWA fans are fickle. Ryan Rondo betrayed all of you. Ryan Rondo turned his back on you just like I did. From that day he was no longer the nice guy. He no longer deserved it because on that same day you said the same things about me and Ryan Hall. Ryan Rondo was too scared to commit and he backed out because he couldn’t handle the hatred. You will see hatred at Back in Business. I hate you Ryan Rondo. Not because of all the stuff that happened but because you can’t be proud of what you have done in your career. Team King was great. I have no regrets about it. I am proud I did because it made history and it made people so, so angry. You backtracked and you hide it from your career like some shameful one night stand from your room-mates. You are far, far too proud and it will destroy you. FWA fans put you up on the pedestal as the great example as the guy that all FWA wrestlers should aspire to be. Who in the hell would want to be Ryan Rondo? It took you far too long to achieve something that you felt you should have done years ago. You knocked on that door. You don’t admit your mistakes. You hide things that are bad for your image. Why the hell would anyone want to be a champion that is a giant pussy? Yet, if you beat me and those two other guys, then it all goes away. What a crap system. Championship don’t exonerate you. They just make people forget but I don’t want people to forget. I want them to remember every gory detail of my career. All the careers I ended. All the guys I turned on. All the truth I exposed. All the wrestlers and fans I betrayed. The more they remember the better but I want to make them remember one thing. Phillip A. Jackson as an FWA World Champion. I would love nothing more than to pin you to win the title but I am not fussy. I will pin my own grandmother to win the FWA World Heavyweight Championship. I am not too proud to win by any means necessary. I win pin Wolf or Devin. All I care about is the prize.

    Jackson returns to his previous state imaging lifting the World Heavyweight Championship. He mouths the word ‘Champion’ once as the right side of his lip curl upward into a smirk. Jackson then slowly opens his eyes and stares directly into the camera.

    Which leads me nicely to Adrian Wolf. Why are you in this match? I remember making sure that you would never have another World Title shot in FWA? I don’t care about the bullshit that happened to make it so but I want FWA to actually have the balls to follow through on a match stipulation. Just because you are Adrian Wolf doesn’t make you untouchable. Why should you be able to waltz back into FWA whenever the hell you want and get a title shot? Some of us had to rebuild their reputation just to get the chance at a title shot but I guess that is why Back in Business is important to you. It is a new start for the once feared Adrian Wolf. It is the start of FWA once again letting you achieve winning the top prize. You have nothing to prove. You have done everything in this company anyone could imagine. I am slightly jealous…but just slightly…don’t make a big deal out of that to get through your day. But yet when the chance to pad your achievements comes along you can’t wait. You are ego driven and it is sad to see…you might remember this words.

    Jackson coughs to clear his throat.

    “Wolf. Do yourself a favour. Go home. Retire. The sunset awaits. You don’t want to mess with PAJ. I’m younger, fitter, smarter and hungrier.” and I am so much better now than I ever was then. I have a justification for that fifty feet below me.

    Jackson points down and then makes the standard belt taunt. Before taunting, proud of the words coming back to him.

    Times have changed but you haven’t. You are still the same Adrian Wolf you were three years ago. I have changed though. I don’t hate you, Wolf. You mean nothing to me and this is most certainly me making an impact. I want to make my biggest impact and prove that you should be dead and buried in FWA, sitting at home with you- oops…well alone. Remembering that time you actually remember feeling love and not running around a hospital like a sad sack of shit looking for your wife. You can’t hide anything but like Rondo titles shut the voices out and makes it easier to sleep at night but do you know what would really shut people up? You retiring and becoming enshrined in greatness so you don’t have to single-handedly have to get FWA fined for your vulgarities every single week but your ego doesn’t allow it. You are just like Ryan Rondo. You can’t give up. You have to always want more. I know exactly what I want from FWA and when I get it? I will leave proudly but only I know what that line is. I am a man of my word and everyone knows that so listen when I tell you and the world that you might be the big, bad Wolf but you mean nothing to me. You are just another opponent on another night for me to wrestle and sure you got the upper hand last week but there is something greater than you on the line. The only thing that drives me. It is no longer revenge or the chip I used to have on my shoulder. It is the one thing that drives you, greatness, but only I can have it because I am the only one that is great. I am great all year round not just when a title shot is put on a platter for me.

    Jackson allows it to sink in with silence. Letting the silence continue for a few seconds as he stares straight forward.

    Finally we come to Devin Golden. I am seen as the odd one out in this match but I will be honest, you are my odd man out. We have no real history. I have no major qualms with you. Yet here we are. You came back to FWA, you were untouchable, you were unbeatable and then…you lost…The WEEK before the FWA World Heavyweight Championship match. Talk about bad timing. I know how it feels to come off an hot run. It makes you feel crappy when you lose because it is a change in routine and my routine is important to me and I am sure it is important to you as well. You are now under pressure to prove to everyone that the run wasn’t a fluke and that the loss you suffered to Drew Stevenson wasn’t the start of a cold streak. Back in Business is important to you because like Ryan Rondo and Adrian Wolf you can shut up all the voices. You can show people that the loss to Drew meant nothing and that you are finally the real deal. The FWA World Heavyweight Championship would silence everyone. Everyone has their eyes on you because of some stupid run. I have had those same eyes on me. I have watched them judge me when it was all over. They doubted me because I wasn’t perfect and people don’t like losers. Sixteen and One is hard for people to respect. Just ask New England, Eighteen and One, Or Kentucky, Thirty Eight and One or Ask The Undertaker..The one kills you. What are you going to do about it? The whispers have started. Everyone wants to see what you will do. That is a burden that has destroyed better wrestlers than you. I was one of them. What better way for you to respond than to do it on the biggest stage. Sadly, for all three of you, none of it will matter. They all have their reason why Back in Business is important to them. This is what I expected. I expect to be where I am. This match is no more important than a match against AJ Fart. It is what comes from winning the match. I am not going to hold this match up on some imaginary scale and define it. I don’t define my career. That is for losers who have no life to talk about and debate. All I care about is the FWA World Heavyweight Championship. I don’t care about all the bullshit that will make people go crazy with excitement. This is not a time for excitement. This is a time for victory. This is THE time to make Jimmy King proud and this is THE time to make the most important person in my life happy. Phillip A. Jackson, World Heavyweight Champion sounds nice so let’s just get on with it and forget the pandering bullshit and let the reign of Phillip A. Jackson resume.

    Jackson smirks before, carefully, taking a few steps forwards to look right into the lens of the camera. Jackson grabs the sides of the camera gets right into the lens and mouths the word ‘champion’ once again. Jackson points the camera down to the ring as it shakily shows the FWA World Heavyweight Champion. The scene slowly fades to black.

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