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Thread: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

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    Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    Post Promos here. Promos are due at Midnight Pacific Time on Tuesday the 22nd of November. This is 3am Eastern Time/8am British Time on Wednesday the 23rd of November.


    24 hour extensions are available upon request - if you are in a title match and request one, all of your opponents get one too. You will not be given an extension if you ask for it once the deadline above has expired.


    THE LIST:

    Michael Garcia
    Mike Parr
    Cyrus Truth
    Eyesnsane
    Bell Connelly
    KAIZEN
    Shannon O'Neal
    Toxic Wednesday
    Last edited by RainShaker; 11-22-2016 at 11:15 PM.
    ----



    ----




    IMPORTANT MESSAGE

    Spoiler:




    ~~HAVE A NICE DAY~~
    Spoiler:






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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread



    (looking at a picture of his opponent and shaking his head) So, this is who is suppose to challenge me in Boston? He looks like a former ranch hand we used to abuse around here. He wasn't too bright, but he was a bleeder, which showed that he actually had something in his head. After one particular fight in the barn, after his mouth overloaded his ass, he had tobacco running down his face as everyone spat on him as we walked out, laughing at him. I don't think he woke up for Two days after that ass beating. I hear that his punk that I'm suppose to face doesn't like to back down from a fight, which is good for me, but bad for him. My hobby is to crush other men's bones, as I find it to be therapeutic after working 16 hours in the hot Texas sun. When I decided to make my hobby a part-time job, I first had to ask if I killed someone, would I go to jail? When I found out that I wouldn't, I gladly excepted to fight anyone and everyone that would be put in front of me. Jason Randall or bleeder as you will be called for now on, you have put your life in jeopardy when you sign that open contract. You better call your next of kin, so they will be prepared for the phone call they will receive after this match.

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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    July, 2016



    Jhunha, dressed in a suit, sits in back of a BMW X5. As the luxury guest vehicle makes the uphill turns towards the Watkins Residence up above, Jhunha looks up and sees raindrops hitting the sunroof of the vehicle.

    He arches forward and observes the beads to water hitting the sunroof glass and then sliding backwards.

    The driver notices Jhunha.


    Driver: "Would you like me to close the sunroof cover, sir?"

    Jhunha: ".... no. Just leave it."


    ----------------------

    November 22nd, 2016 - Washington DC



    It is a gloomy afternoon in DC. Amid the square blocks of faded brick buildings cramped closely together around each other, rain falls from the grey and opaque sky. A few blocks away from the iconic buildings of the nations capitol, the blocks of buildings play host to restaurants and bars, organic groceries and interior design showrooms, cross fit gyms and niche regional stores. The grimy streets and corridors of DC have been outfitted to service the yuppie and urbanite crowd who make their living under the long shadows of the government, and even on a rainy day, everyone is out and about, focused and undeterred, determined to go about their lives in spite of changes to their weather or the season.

    XYZ.


    Jhunha trudges through the rain, alone. He is dressed in a maroon hoodie with the hood up over his head, with a small and tattered blue drawstring bag on his back.

    Who the fuck is XYZ? Another scrub at the bottom of the ladder.

    As he passes by the bars where many a young professional is drinking and laughing it up and the exotic restaurants where men in near-identical suits tapped away at their phones while waiting to be seated.

    Fucking Princeton said he would fix this. Princeton said he would get me Parr or Kazadi... XYZ... XY fucking Z...

    Jhunha keeps his glance straight ahead, his headphones plugged into his ears.

    Useless lot, all of them. Just leeching off Watkins, attached to him like leeches. Princeton, those other three... people. As soon as I'm done taking out the trash...

    They're next.


    Jhunha looks to the street sides. Amid all of the joviality and wealth on display in the upscale neighborhood, there are still homeless people on every corner, bundled up in old and ragged coats while making shelter from the rain out of cardboard boxes and old umbrellas bunched together.

    He looks down at his own arms, bulging from the gym session which he had just finished.


    Not enough. Its not enough.

    Jhunha turns into a quieter residential street. The din of main street fades away and is replaced by the sound of rain and wind whipping through the trees and fallen autumn leaves.

    He suddenly stops and looks up in the sky. Back home in Mongolia, the sky is constantly a deep blue, scenic, calm, and awe-inspiring, so much so that generations of Mongolians had worshiped the blue sky as the majestic court of almighty god himself.

    Today, the sky is grey, a muddled overcast of juts and lines bleeding down sheet after sheet of rain.

    He wishes he was back home. He wishes that he was back in Tamsabugal, with mother, and Khulan, with the herd, at peace with nature, at peace with the world.

    The rain gets a little harder.

    Jhunha suddenly sticks his hand up towards the sky and speaks aloud to an unseen force.


    "I AM JHUNHA OF THE DARUNBEKE, SON OF USQAL, INHERITOR OF THE BLUE SKY!!

    BY THE POWER WITHIN MY HANDS, I SHALL SEAL THE HEAVENS!!!!!"


    The sky ignores Jhunha's command. The rain gets no harder, nor does it lessen.

    After a moment, Jhunha drops his hand and laughs to himself.

    Of course its not enough. All this training... all this strength... not enough. At the end of the day, the sun and the moon, the rain and the wind, all the stars in the sky, they will all show their face to the innocent and the guilty alike.

    I want the power to change fate. I want the power to destroy and then recreate. I want the power to be judge... jury...

    Executioner.

    Jhunha gets back to his studio complex.

    Why do you have to stand in my way, XYZ?

    The doorman says hello to Jhunha as he enters his building. Jhunha ignores him and gets into the elevator.


    I have no grudge against you. I know nothing about you. Just like I have nothing against Mike Parr, or Kazadi...

    Jhunha gets to his room and opens the door.

    But if destroying you will get me one step closer to my goal... one step closer to breaking the cycle...

    So be it.


    Jhunha enters the room and closes the door.

  4. #4
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    Bad Medicine...


    Kazadi sat on his knees, hands on his thighs and he watched the titantron. The replay seemed to revel in his lack of awareness. He almost had it. He could feel Watkins was on the verge of giving up, of handing him the title. But Watkins was clever. Kazadi wasn’t. He glared at the referee who avoided his stare and made his way backstage.
    “I didn’t save my receipt for the stickers…” @KingKazadi


    Trey Carter calls him about a minute later. Kazadi sighs and answers. “I know, I lost. The deal was that I’d go out there and I’d take that title.”


    “Come on, man. You can’t think so lil’ of me like that. The man had his foot on the ropes, ref decided to look the other way, that ain’t got nothing do with you.”


    But Kazadi knew better. He’d wrestled around the world. It wasn’t the first time he faced someone with clever means of winning.


    He recalled his fourth title defense of the Maple Leaf Wrestling Championship. The crowd and Maple Leaf wrestling had grown tired of him. He wasn’t the technical wrestler he was today, but he was still a very smart, and calculated wrestler. He exposed his opponent’s weaknesses and didn’t care for the base entertainment of the fans. He did not take his opponents into hardcore bouts and when the stipulation was put forth, he’d ensure his opponent never had the opportunity to grab weapons. Sales were down for MLW Canada and they were desperate.


    They called in ‘The Villain’ Lex Fergie. The man from Manchester (name stylized after Alex Ferguson) had grown an unsavory and notorious reputation for doing everything it took to win. He had read the book on loopholes, and heel tactics fifty times, then he’d innovated it. Lex Fergie knew how to win, he was the man with a plan, he reviled in villainy. He’d made his name in Manchester around London Brawling, BREAKTHROUGH Wrestling and Braveheart Championship Wrestling by pissing off the most dangerous man you can find and causing them to disqualify themselves, by tiring veterans out and leaving them to regain their breath outside until the ten count cost them, by causing rookies to gullibly back off only to be submitted to a Crossface Chickenwing as soon as they turned their back. Lex Fergie, at the time, held three championships of varying pedigrees across the UK, and he had been hired, almost as a hitman, to take the title from Zachary Kazadi.


    There was one thing you were nearly guaranteed to get out of Lex Fergie, a victory, by any means necessary.


    It wasn’t a surprise when the match Kazadi was going into was revealed as a Falls Count Anywhere match. This was about the third it had happened to him in as many months. He wasn’t afraid, he’d always manage to keep his opponent within the four ropes. He stared across Lex, his circular shades hiding his eyes, but his mustache and goatee accentuated a devilish grin.


    Kazadi had been able to frustrate his opponent and make them appear as fools but Lex Fergie was a man of immense composure and confidence, even in his youth. He did not get mad or frustrated, he did not get roused or lulled into false sense of security. Kazadi found that his own anger got the best of him, the referee did not seem to favor him or was otherwise wholly incompetent. “Hey, stripes,” Lex would say, “I think the turnbuckle is a bit loose.” The ref would naively go to check and Kazadi would get a rake in the eyes and his hair damn near pulled out of his scalp. He actually went shaved for a time after that. “Hey, stripes,” he’d continue, “I think I’ve got something in my eyes.” The ref would go outside to grab a pair of gloves, and Fergie would land a timely blow to Kazadi’s balls (let’s not mince words). “He didn’t want to wait for you to return,” he would say when the referee would ask what happened, gloves in hand. Oblivious to Kazadi caressing his balls as he writhed on the mat.


    But Kazadi fought with furious determination to upset MLW Canada’s plans and the Villain who locked in the Crossface Chickenwing after Kazadi had turn to ask the crowd if this was what they wanted, while the referee was making a medical check-up for the fourth time. Kazadi struggled for a moment then managed to flip around and capture the arm of the Villain, wrenching it back desperately. With incredible athleticism, Lex rolled onto his head, standing for a time to alleviate the pain then flipping so that Kazadi’s shoulders were both on the mat, and Fergie’s feet gracefully using the rope for leverage. This was the first title Kazadi had lost.


    “I should have known better. I know the ring like the back of my hand and everyone knows Watkins ain’t win a match on his own in months. Can’t blame the ref. Can’t even blame, Watkins, I fucked up, man.”


    Trey sighed over the phone. He wasn’t the sort to comfort people. “You know what, the reason I ain’t drop your ass is just that. You know how to take responsibility. You ain’t blame the world for your problems, you look for your flaws, you look for a way to get rid of em’. Yo’ boss knows that match ain’t finish like it should’ve, and he don’t want no lawsuit on his ass. You just watch those tapes, man. Hit that gym. I guarantee yo’ ass you gonna get another fair shot, Mile High is right around the corner boy, what better place to become the X-Division Champ then in front of all those eyes.”


    The announcement came soon after.
    “Ye see tha' ? Tha's just not fair for the Kazadi boy. Watkins... Watkins has jus' got himsel' out o' the Massacre match. He's smilin' now but he won't be smiling any longer when he realises that he's rematching Kazadi at Mile High wi' that belt on the line again.” The tape showed Ashley O’Ryan saying on the @OfficialFWA twitter account.


    He’d watched the tape every night since then. Watkins had gotten the better of him. Even the way he lost aside, it was anyone’s game. Watkins fought like he weighted twice as much and Kazadi had underestimated him. He called Ringo that weekend to spar with him. Ringo was doing part time kick boxing alongside his independent dates. He was a solid kickboxer and manhandled Kazadi because of their weight difference. Nevertheless, by the end of their sessions, Kazadi learned a lot more about getting out of dangerous grappling situations. Where once his jaw was as sore as after his match with Jean-Luc, he figured out ways to slip out - but not only slip out but turn the tails on Ringo and have him in a painful hold that threatened to dislocate a joint. He lost one tooth figuring that out.


    The biggest problem was still his own fault. He wore a blindfold around his eyes and practiced with John Long, an Irish friend of his in town for RISE 22. He had a natural affinity for technical wrestling and the point of the task was to be aware of where they were in the ring without having to see it. It was harder for John Long who was training in a ring slightly bigger than he was used to but Kazadi’s preparation and ring experience in that particular setting facilitated the process.


    November 27th came. Mile High was about to start and in a special set up in the arena, Sam MacDonald, Amy Duke and Ashley O’Ryan spoke extensively about the night. There was a great deal of talk about the Mile High Massacre match and what it could do to a man, shorten their career. Also a great deal of reverence for Cyrus Truth who promised to slaughter his opponents. Predictions were made and the rest of the card got their due attention but seeing as the main event contained every champion but Jean-Luc Watkins, it had the most eyes on it. The card was still star studded otherwise. KAIZEN was facing Shannon O’Neal in a match that had gone from simply a dream encounter to a potentially bloody encounter. Michael Garcia was also facing a returning Ryan Rondo and some predicted that Rondo’s ring rustiness and Garcia’s mean streak could spell a shocking upset. They politely mentioned the rest of the card with Jean-Luc Watkins and Zachary Kazadi standing about it. Kazadi, who had come in with mild hype, and then put himself on a pedestal with consistent victories, earned or won through technical matters, was now falling down at a rapid state down the pecking order. A defeat to KAIZEN, to a leaving Danny Toner and now at the hands of the X Champion, had all soiled his reputation was a masterful technical wrestler, a man capable of submitting even the most dangerous opponent.


    “Oh, would you guys please, please… shut up.” Kazadi spoke loudly enough for the microphones to capture his voice. The three spokesman looked up with a mixture of disdain and interest. He grabbed the fourth microphone meant for guest.


    “I had Baby J-L on the verge of singin’ those nursery rhymes he heard all the time as a baby to keep himself from crying. He was about to tap out. YOUR X CHAMPION WAS GOING TO TAP… OUT. But then he cheated, and he was given back his championship.” Though Kazadi blamed himself for that, it did not mean he was going to allow anyone else to blame him for the defeat. “Where else does that happen. If I stepped into a boxing ring and I kick the man in his goddamn balls, they ain’t gonna give me back the title. If I go fight at the Olympics and they catch me dopin’, they ain’t given me back the Olympic Gold Medalist. But here… here… you cheat… you get a light pat on the ass, and get given another chance. That’s how it is here, huh. Biggest company in America, and that’s how things work here. Ha ha haaaaaaa. And y’all want to BERATE me?!”


    He snorted derisively.


    “A’”


    “I said shut up, Ashley O’Ryan, I can’t understand half the shit you say anyway. You gon’ tell me I should be grateful you gave me another opportunity? Do you watch the goddamn show? See, whether you do or you don’t, you’re an ass. If you don’t, it tells me all I need to know, you don’t respect me. You don’t even respect the X Championship. But if you did, it says even more. It says you saw me cheated out of my victory and you waited, and bid your time to tell me that it was a faulty result. What it took you twenty replays to finally see that. You must’ve heard the crowd, you must’ve seen the ref look away, you must have heard Langdon and Piers question the result of that match and you still needed twenty look overs to confirm it. You tell me there ain’t something wrong here? Come on?!”


    He waited. Ashley tries to speak again.


    “That’s a rhetorical question. You got this stage the whole show. Shut up. Let me talk. You can bore these people later, and make the damn subtitlers earn their pay after I’m done.”


    His chest heaved up and down. He walks around the roundtable and stands in front of the camera so it’s on him, and only him. The three spokesman are out of sight. “Baby J-L, hello again, we met at Fight Night, we met for real. We stepped in the ring. We traded fist. A lot of them. We traded sweat. We didn’t get to blood, but I got a feeling, sooner or later, we’re gonna trade blood, so that can wait. Baby J-L, you faced a ton of guys here, you faced Cyrus goddamned Truth, and it doesn’t get bigger than that right now. All to say, you’ve been in a fight Baby J-L. You’ve gotten through a lot of pain. You dealt a lot of pain. I felt some of that pain on Fight Night.” He rubs his jaw absent-mindedly. “But of all the pain you’ve been dealt with Baby J-L, I know the pain you felt on Fight Night was like no other. I know what those people don’t. Baby J-L, you can confide in me. I know your dad was out taken care of the business, don’t know where the hell your mom was at, but I know you didn’t have many people to talk frankly to about the pain you’ve felt throughout your life. I’m handin’ you a silver hand to go with that silver spoon, Baby J-L. You can confide me.” He nods. He takes a small step closer.


    “Come on, whisper it. You can tell me that on Fight Night, your eyes were watering. Tears were about to fall down your eyes. I can see them. And if these people watch that tape from Fight Night, if Ashley O’Ryan watches it again twenty more times, he’ll see those tears too. You were getting close to crying weren’t you. Your body was tellin’ you to do something you did not want to do. It was tellin’ you, those sweet sweet words many people I’ve faced have heard. It’s okay to give up Baby J-L. You’ll get another chance. Don’t worry about this one. There’s another match. You heard it playin’ in your head, didn’t you Baby J-L. DIDN’T YOU? I know it did. I saw the doubt. I saw you fall for that sweet perverse subconscious thought telling you to live to fight another day. And eventually, you wanted it. But then you got lucky. You realized where you were. You decided that you’d put your self-respect, and your pride aside, and if you couldn’t beat me fair and square, you’d take your win where you could get it, however meaningless it might mean.” He takes a step back, he looks at the camera and glares at it, judging Watkins for how weak and pathetic he is.


    “Now these people look at the X Championship belt and it’s no longer just the title of a loser, it’s not the title of an inferior champion, of a man who hides behind an army… it’s the title of a cheater. But hey man, two people can play at that game. I can do what I have to do to win. You hear that Ashley O’boy, I will do what I have to win. The title is at the lowest it’s ever been. It ain’t getting any lower. So I’m going to do what needs to be done to put that title on someone who will treat it right, who will elevate it, and not be elevated by it. Baby J-L. Take your silver spoon, in it… you’ll find some medicine. It might taste familiar. It’ll be better. It’s the medicine you dealt to me on Fight Night. Taste it. Really, taste it. Get used to it. It’ll be on your tongue for a real long time, the way it’s been on mine. Baby J-L, I’m coming for that gold, boy, and ain’t no one stopping me from wearing my new crown.”


    He chuckles and begins to walk away from the camera but he stops nearly out of sight. “You’ll be happy to know, I got a new set of stickers after throwing the last one out. And I wrote a new speech too.”


    Ashley O’Ryan look like he wanted to tell the man to fuck off already, but he settled for a levelled glare. Kazadi swaggered out of the camera. He prepared for his victory.




    Writer's Notes: Been feeling demotivated but I can't no show. Did this in 45 minutes, no proofread. Don't mistaken it though. I enjoyed writing this. It was done in a more stream of consciousness manner instead of overthinking it which isn't always bad. I'm aware SS seems occupied and there's a good chance he'll no show, that generally doesn't stop me from putting in a decent effort. I think my last RP was pretty banging so certainly not as good as that but though it doesn't reach the length of my QftB rp, I found I'd judge it on that level. Thanks for reading.

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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    "Welcome one and all ... a show you will never see agay-yen."


    Carnival music plays in the background with bright lights swirling in a circle and children's laughter seeping from a merry-go-round. The "Bing!" sound of a man winning at the hammer game and a child in near tears because he did not win a goldfish also emanate from the scene. Trash is everywhere. Empty cups, hot dog wrappers, popcorn buckets, cotton candy plastic wrapping, plastic forks and knives and spoons. Anything and everything has been left for maintenance crews in the morning, and a few people make snide comments about "the filth" while they turn a blind eye to their kids tossing open Cola cans on the ground and letting the sticky sugar cover the pavement.


    "This is what some would eh-heh ... call a ... magic show."


    One man takes the stage, which is nothing more than a firm brown moving box barely able to support his weight. Sandy blonde or light brown hair — whichever you prefer — sways down near the clean-shaven cheeks. Bulging pupils pop through curly locks of bands, and a cape-like black leather robe with green streaks on the inside and outside back flaps only add to the colorful personality that belongs to this voice.

    However, no one is stopping to watch or pay this man any attention.



    "I am going to make ... all of you ... DISAPPEAR! For your CRIMES!"



    XYZ does not mind, for an instance that no one is paying attention. The carnival is a happy place to him. He enjoys the bright lights, the laughter, the children cryin...laughing and having fun. But he cannot stand the trash left on the ground. Not because of care for the environment or global warming or the O-zone layer in the sky or anything like that.

    No, he is upset by the amount of trash BECAUSE ... he wishes people had more respect for trash. He wishes they appreciated the empty cups, bowls, forks, knives, bottles, whatever gave them pleasure and nutrition and quenched their thirst. He wishes people had more respect for those menial things that often go unnoticed. He wished people gave these objects a proper burial, in the can of trash, their own respectful graveyard.



    "Now ... watch the cards, please."


    XYZ begins adjusting, shuffling, shifting around and moving singular cards between one another in a 52-card deck. The reality is it's not a 52-card deck, but rather closer to 80 cards. It now expands in his hand to nearly 100 cards, getting bigger and bigger with each shuffle.


    "Pick a card, any card. AND DO NOT SHOW ME!"


    One little boy, about age 9, stops with his mother yanking on his wrist. He smiles up at XYZ, standing at 6-foot-2 and about 4 inches taller with the aid of the box. XYZ leans forward with the cards placed in front the boy's face. He gleefully and curiously takes a card, looks at it, and laughs. XYZ smiles, and then looks up beyond the little boy.

    Now more people are watching him. About 15 in total, 10 kids and five parents. No idea why the ratio is that way or where the other parents are. XYZ does not mind, though. He loves seeing the smiles.



    "Now boy, you tossed trash on the ground. Do you know how that hurts me?

    It hurts me deep---ly. I am trash. I was trash. I will be trash. In the minds of the YOUS. Trash is what I am. Nothing more than a parlor trick for your am---use---MENT. And when I am finished with this trick, my boy, you will walk away and forget of me. Maybe think for 15 seconds. Nothing more. Nothing needing more, am I right?"



    The boy looks up with a peculiar and concerned expression, as if he has been tricked into a philosophy class or something beyond what he expected. Still, XYZ continues preaching. Now he preaches to the entire group, which has expanded to nearly 30 onlookers.

    "YOU WILL SEE ME AS TRASH! THROW ME ON THE GROUND! STEP ON ME! COMPLAIN ABOUT ME! DO NOTHING ABOUT ME! LET ME ROT UNDER YOUR STOM---P---ING ... FEEEEET.

    And I will make all of you ... disappear. Because you are too stubborn to acknowledge I am right."



    XYZ again turns and faces the kid, who continues staring up at him.


    "Now, my boy, was THIS your card."


    The boy looks and sees a picture of tall brown-skinned man of Mongolian descent with boxing gloves on and a fierce face. The man is punching the boxing mit of another man, although the fist is moving so fast that the picture is blurry. Above the photo is the name "Jhunha." The little boy has no clue, but sure enough, the card XYZ is holding matches the card he picked.


    "How did you do that?" the little boy asks. XYZ, though, closes his eyes and waves his hand at the question while shaking his head.


    "You picked a baaaaaad card, boy. Because Jhunha thought Scrawny Ronny was trash, too. He thought Scrawny Ronny was ... a piece of paper, easily tossed on the ground. Just like you thought that cup was nothing more than a cup. But cups have feelings. Scrawny Ronny has feelings.

    And it's time ... for you ... to dis-ah-PEAR."



    With the snap of a finger, XYZ closes his eyes and sees only darkness. When he opens them, the music has stopped and the carnival is completely empty. He steps off the box and turns, seeing a bright blue sky hovering over a still merry-go-round and vacant carnival scene.

    Best yet ... no trash on the ground.

    XYZ begins skipping and laughing, weaving in and out of the booths spread throughout the acre of land. His laughter is the last thing we hear before the scene fades away.
    Last edited by The Golden One; 11-22-2016 at 05:01 PM. Reason: Fixed spacing error


    "The Golden One" Devin Golden

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    4x FWA Tag Team Champion
    Final record: 94-58-10


    Shannon O'Neal
    2x FWA Women's Champion
    1x FWA World Champion


  6. #6
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread



    Mile High
    November 27th 2016
    TD Garden - Boston, MA


    Jason Randall stands outside of the TD Garden wearing his usual attire as well as a cowboy hat. He's looking out at the dimly lit sky in Boston and then stares down at the camera.

    Jason Randall: Boston, Massachusetts. The home of such teams like the Red Sox, Patriots, Bruins, and Celtics. Tonight it plays home to one of FWA's biggest events, Mile High. Now this is my first Mile High event, and even though I would have preferred being in a more high profile match, like such as I don't know maybe defending the X-Championship or even fighting for it, I'll deal the with card that I was dealt because beggars can't be choosers. Though before I touch on my Mile High match I'd like to go back a few weeks, where I was as a matter of fact, fighting for that X-Championship in a match with Jean-Luc Watkins. It's where some would say that my downward spiral began after I suffered a big blow losing that match, no thanks in part to Jean-Luc resorting to low, underhanded tactics like the dirty little weasel that he is.

    He sarcastically shrugs.

    Jason Randall: Who would've thought, huh? Anyways, it was then after that match I was placed in a tag team match with Shannon O'Neal taking on Cyrus Truth and KAIZEN. After butting heads with Shannon one too many times I allowed myself in the match, and it was then that I taken down once more. I was the one responsible for that loss. Though, I'm not apologizing to Shannon for the loss. Yeah, I'll take responsibility and own up to the loss but I won't apologize. Oh no, because maybe if Shannon wasn't concerned with her own agenda and didn't have her head up her ass then maybe we could have co-existed...

    He begins to pace back and forth a bit.

    Jason Randall: I digress though. You see, these losses have been eating away at me. Especially that X-Championship match, that one really stings. Yet, I'm not going to allow those losses define who I am. Yeah, I've mentioned it before where I know people call me the choke artist, or if you need an easy win just go after The Wildcard. I hear it all people and like I said before I'm sick and tired of it. Instead of bitching and moaning about it, I'm going to do something about it. Something needs to change and it all starts tonight when I face a newcomer by the name of Stan Weaver.

    He stops pacing and looks at the camera with a smirk.

    Jason Randall: Which explains why I'm wearing this ridicolous thing on my head. I wanted to relate to my opponent and this was the only thing I could really think of. I mean, I suppose I could have gone to a bar but I did that a few weeks back already in one of these things...

    He shrugs with a smirk and a wink. He tosses the hat off his head to the ground.

    Jason Randall: Let me take off this stupid thing. Yeah, you heard me right Stan, I called it stupid. Any normal person wouldn't be caught dead in one of those things here in Boston, but I ain't no normal guy. By the looks of it you aren't either Stan, I mean your age is 25 but by the looks of it you could be my Dad or even my grandpa! You come from the great state of Texas but boy let me tell you that you are a long way from home my friend. This isn't going to be like one of those bar brawls of yours but it'll damn sure be just as rough and ugly as one I'll tell you that. I hope that you're not coming in here Stan thinking that I'm going to be easy pickens because if so, well you are sadly mistaken my friend...


    He gets serious as the camera zooms in close.

    Jason Randall: You say that you like to break bones, that it's like some sort of hobby of yours. It might be time for you to find a new hobby after tonight, have you ever thought about stamp collecting? Because these bones of mine ain't breaking for no one. Especially for some old roughneck like you. You see Stan, tonight you're the first stop on my road to redemption and try as you might there is no way that you'll be a roadblock for me. I'll hop on right over you and continue my journey back to the top just like I always do. Don't mistake that for cockiness Stan, I'm not underestimating you by a long shot, but you don't necessarily intimidate me. Come on then and bring your best shot, give it all you got, because I'll have an answer for everything you throw at me...

    With that the camera zooms out and Jason stares at it still until he shudders. Phil, who was operating the camera, expresses concern.

    Phil: Anything wrong?


    Jason Randall: It's nothing Phil, just thought I felt the presence of someone else besides you watching me. C'mon, let's go...

    With that they take their leave and the camera shuts off. Soon, from another angle and another camera we see a woman with dark brown hair watching Jason from a distance. She puts her hood back over her head and takes her leave, unable to be made out by the camera as she shuffles off into the darkness;


    Rest in power, Flock U

    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.

  7. #7

    RainShaker's Avatar

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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    FWA Red, White and Bruised
    August 14th, 2016
    Verizon Center, Washington D.C.


    Ryan Rondo sits in the corner of the ring, cradling his ribs. He can hear some fans cheering and some booing. He knows something bad has just happened... he watches the referee take what was once his, the FWA Undisputed Title, and hand it over to Cyrus Truth. Rondo gets to his feet. For a small moment, he considers walking to the middle of the ring and waiting for Cyrus... to shake his hand, just like at Back in Business. But... it doesn't feel right. He slides out of the ring instead and begins to walk away, head down, defeated. At first, it was a feeling of disappointment but as "Subconscious" continues to blare out and he looks down at the ring, he has a feeling of acceptance wash over him. He was the guy that lost the belt to Cyrus Truth. He was the guy that failed the first test. And he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get another chance at it again. His rib pained him as he looked away from the ring and walked behind the curtain. He was greeted by applause from some members of the roster - the faces were more or less a blur as he walked past them all, holding onto his side. He gave a brief nod to them but nothing more. Ashley O'Ryan was standing there too. He came over to speak to Rondo - patting him on the back.

    "Did yer best, mo chara. Unlucky. Ye'll get 'um at the Anni show."


    Rondo looked at him and muttered.

    "Nah, Ashley. I'm hurt. I'm sore. I'm out."

    Ashley looked confused - but he had no time to speak as Rondo began to walk away. Rondo was limping badly - he had a sore rib... but he was also carrying multiple injuries from since Back in Business, mainly affecting his shoulders and legs. He stepped into his locker room and collected his things. He sat down for a moment... just... for a pause. He clasped his hands together and put his head down. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be different. He was the one who was going to lead the FWA forward from now on... but now he was peacing out. He didn't think he'd be stepping out this quickly after Back in Business. But he was hurt. It felt dirty to do the company wrong but Rondo knew his body was on the verge of breaking. He looked up as the door opened - in stepped Ashley O'Ryan... carrying two glasses of whisky, it looked like. Rondo smirked slightly at him as Ashley put the glasses down and then sat down next to him.

    "Wha' ye jus' said there... yer out? Let me get dis roit... Until when? Here, drink... ye deserve it. "


    Rondo looked at him. He didn't accept the drink.

    "No."

    Ashley looked puzzled. Rondo went on to explain.

    "I'm out, Ashley. Done. Finished. Finito. Gone. It's over."


    Ashley sighs for a minute before, again, trying to offer him the drink.

    "Come on, Ryan. It's hardly the end of the bleedin' world. Yer just knee jerkin' yerself. Have a drink wi' me, we'll get legless an' discuss it tomorrow when ye've thought abou' it?"


    Rondo refuses the drink - he grabs his bag and stands up, looking down at Ashley.


    "No. Don't you see? I'm killing myself slowly. Tonight, I was beat by the better guy and for me, there's no place to go but down, right now. I don't want to spend my time breaking my body even further for that. You want me to get legless with you and be persuaded otherwise? If I do that, I'll end up literally legless, Ashley. I'm out. I'll train people, I'll work behind the scenes, whatever. But I'm destroyed right now and there's nothing that's going to bring me back, in my eyes. My time's over. Go celebrate with Cyrus. He deserves it. I'm going home to my girlfriend and listening to her talk about pointless stuff. It's what I want to do, right now. Not kill myself slowly in the ring."

    He grabbed his bag and limped his way to the door as Ashley gave one last response to him.



    "Fair enough, Ryan. Ye know where I am if yer mind changes though.... slainte."



    ------------------


    FWA Fight Night
    November 4th, 2016
    Prudential Center, New Jersey



    The feeling Ryan Rondo had when he made his surprising return, costing Michael Garcia the North American title in the process, could be starkly contrasted with that feeling on the night of Red, White and Bruised. He felt healthy, he felt like he was ready to storm to the top, he felt like he was home. Of course, he couldn't do much other than cost Garcia the match - but he did let out a smirk as he made his way backstage after the incident. He wasn't smirking because he had helped Garcia lose, he was smirking because he was back.

    Of course, there would be questions to answer. He knew that as he made his way through the backstage area - some people rubbing their eyes to make sure it was actually him. He could hear some people whisper as he walked past - they thought he was done, some thought he wouldn't be back for a few months, they were all wrong, though. Rondo, himself, was wrong. He knew that was the first thing Ashley would point out to him. He was on his way to Ashley O'Ryan's office - the General Manager was probably watching the show as it happened and probably would be just as surprised as anyone. He didn't even knock at the door - he just walked in. And he was surprised to see what greeted him. It was almost like a scene out of a Bond movie.

    There were already drinks poured on the table and Ashley was sitting, arms crossed and grinning like a big goofball.


    "Well... look who it is, eh. Mr Rondo. Thought ye're done?"

    Rondo looked at the floor then back at him...


    "Guess you were right. I'd be back. I'm back. I'm good to go."

    "I sussed that. Ye know that moron's gonna barge in 'ere demanding the world now?"

    "Let him. Let him do what he wants. As you said - he's a moron. A harmless moron."

    "You think Goldy would believe that?"


    "I don't care."

    "Drink, son?"

    "No thanks."


    Rondo stepped forward - he didn't even bother to sit down at the table, he wanted to make this quick.


    "I'm not here to mess around. Garcia's going to come in here and demand something. Whatever his little brain inside that big head wants, you can give him. He's going to want me. Give him it. Mile High. I want that match. I want to make my way back to the top and I want to start with him."

    "Why him?"


    "Just make the match, Ash."

    "Well.. welcome back, mo chara. Yer on. Sure yer not wantin' that drink?"

    "Nah. I'm out."

    "Slainte, Rondo."

    Rondo didn't plan on being around for long. Just a simple get in there, get out, and prepare for the match ahead of time. Make sure his body was strong enough. He left Ashley's office and wanted to make for the parking lot. But something stopped him - he was almost there when, of course, Amy Duke was scuttling furiously behind him, shouting his name and then suddenly demanding words. She grabbed onto him - anchoring him to the spot he was standing in and opened her mouth to speak. Rondo already knew what she was going to ask since a slightly overweight cameraman was behind her. He interrupted her before she could speak.

    "Yes. Yes. You want to ask me questions."


    She nods her head and looks to start speaking... but Rondo lifts his hand and does the speaking for her.


    "It's alright. You're going to ask me why I am back. Why Garcia? Why why why why why? Well, Amy Duke, I shall tell you. And the best part is that you don't have to say a word, okay?"


    She nods.

    "Okay. Here it is. I did it because I wanted to. That's all. See - I know everyone's going to be spinning it as me coming out to get revenge for Devin Golden - my former tag partner, my friend, my butt buddy, my co-shit investigator, whatever you want to label him as. But that's not true. He made a nice speech at the Anniversary Show... but I really don't care that he got attacked. The reason why I stopped Garcia winning is because he didn't deserve it. He deserves nothing. Michael Garcia is the perennial nobody in this company. Year after year, he's the one who's tipped to have a 'breakout' and instead, all the new signings pass him by and leave him having to find some other no hoper to pick on. He beats them then suddenly takes a step up and gets knocked back down again. Every damn time. He uses them to get into positions where he can actually do something. This time? He actually almost did it. I wouldn't let him. Parr doesn't deserve to lose to him. Not in that way. Not after what he's been doing. And Garcia, he didn't deserve to be in that position - he's done nothing to get there. Maybe he'll cite beating Chris Kennedy as a reason why. Who knows? The fact is, Michael Garcia is a joke. Same thing every damn time. It's time for him to realise just how little hope he has of succeeding in this company.

    But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Garcia has turned a corner. I don't know. It's a sink or swim situation for both of us, right? Good. I like that. I don't think Garcia has the balls to swim. I don't think he has the talent, either. I want to crush him so I can show that I'm back and I'm ready to take anyone out. Some people might call this a low reward, high risk match for me but they are so so wrong. I get to beat the guy that beat Chris Kennedy and laid out a retired Devin Golden - what more reward does there need to be?"



    He snorts at that, a stupid joke. People will probably think it was lame. Whatever.



    "One thing I am pissed about, actually. I don't like that Garcia might be considered the guy who put Golden out. Never forget that I was the one who ended Golden's career. Maybe he should've took Stu out instead. Oh wait, I ended his career too. Looks like he couldn't win there. Whatever. The fact is - Michael Garcia doesn't deserve to be here. He doesn't deserve to be above people like Jason Randall, who bust their asses all the time, no. Garcia is a lazy guy who does the bare minimum to keep himself relevant but this time, there's no chance. Once I beat him, he should be stuck to curtain jerking Fight Night for everyone else. That's the facts. I'm back here to set the FWA back on the right path and it starts with getting Garcia put in his place. That's enough for now. I didn't intend on talking to you, that much but I think you should be fine with that for an answer. Maybe I'll speak to you in future, maybe I won't. Who knows? I'm peacing out."



    Rondo gives them a peace sign before disappearing. He was sure that whatever was filmed would be edited and on the interwebs soon enough. He didn't care.


    ----



    ----




    IMPORTANT MESSAGE

    Spoiler:




    ~~HAVE A NICE DAY~~
    Spoiler:






  8. #8

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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    BANG BANG BANG!

    Eimi Sanada, dressed in her penguin onesie, was furiously banging on the door of Anzu Kurosawa's locker room, hoping to gain access. It appeared to be futile as she kept banging and had to keep shouting...

    .:Eimi Sanada:.
    ANZU-CHAN PREASE LET EIMI IN! I SORRY!

    They had a brief falling out after neither of them were able to dethrone Bell Connelly. Anzu thought that Eimi shouldn't have been in the match to begin with whilst Eimi thought that Anzu should have kicked out at the end. This had led to Anzu not wishing to speak with Eimi. Sanada kept banging on the door - some people staring at her in wonder. She spoke in hurried Japanese....


    .:Eimi Sanada:.
    Anzu-chan, please, people are staring at me, they must think I am stupid! We have a match tonight, I have to speak to you, we have to make our plans! How can we be the battle maidens of time when you won't speak to me!?!?!? I'm sorry, it was my fault! You are still my friend! Come on, we can't lose tonight too!

    Sanada kept banging on the door... until suddenly it opened, she almost falls over at surprise before exclaiming her gratitude.

    .:Eimi Sanada:.
    Domo Anz------

    .:Anzu Kurosawa:.

    Shut up and get in here!

    Before she can finish speaking, Anzu reaches out and grabs her into the room. The door slams shut. The gameplan of the battle maidens of time must remain a secret from those uninvited... it's a case of 'wait and see'.
    ----



    ----




    IMPORTANT MESSAGE

    Spoiler:




    ~~HAVE A NICE DAY~~
    Spoiler:






  9. #9
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    Exile Chronicles: Volume 11

    "Feral Tendencies"


    A video's uploaded to FWA.com just days before Mile High event, where four of FWA's best will put their lives and careers through Hell itself inside the confines of FWA's infamous Mile High Massacre. Encased in a steel cell standing 20 feet high, a championship belt will be hung up from the top of the structure. The one who climbs a ladder and retrieves it? They are the winners and the new (or defending) champion.

    It's a unique match, to say the least. Not the least being that it's a match that will leave scars on the four competitors who dare to enter its confines. But with the prize being the FWA World Heavyweight Championship...it's a hell of an opportunity for three of the competitors.

    Even moreso considering that those three competitors (Bell Connelly, Mike Parr, and James "Eyesnsane" Hughes) are all current reigning champions in FWA. All three have the opportunity to hold multiple championships (or even more multiple championships depending on how you see Mike Parr's "TV Title" reign). It's arguably the most prestigious iteration of the apocalyptic match in FWA's history and the match itself could change the entire landscape of FWA in one single match.

    ...But what about the fourth participant in the match?

    Though there's a lot of gold that'll be worn going into that match, it's FWA World Champion Cyrus Truth's title that's the sole prize up for grabs. And Cyrus has been somewhat active on Twitter lately, making several cryptic remarks that seem to indicate that he's far from pleased with being a part of Mile High Massacre. Looking at it from the surface, it's not hard to see why...not only is Mile High Massacre a brutal match, the fact that there's three challengers takes Cyrus's chances of retaining down drastically.

    Still, it's odd. Cyrus is a lot of things, but he's never been trepidatious about anything related to a wrestling ring. In fact, his own creed has been one of embracing the struggle. So...what's different? Well, it seems we're about to find out as this video starts to roll...

    ...and it's clearly obvious from the scene that there's something...off about the World Champion. The room that the champion sits dead center in is in complete disarray. Furniture is broken, curtains are ripped into ribbons, holes and gashes have been knocked and gouged into the walls. It looks as if a tornado or a bomb's gone off in the room...and then the room was inhabited by a madman as scrawled on the walls are words written in bold, blood-red paint (or at least, we HOPE it's paint):

    Savage

    Cruelty

    Brutal

    Monster

    Blood

    Beast


    There are others, of course...and they all seems to suggest that Cyrus's mental state has become rather unhinged, moreso than usual. Cyrus sits in the middle of this monument to madness with his head bowed and his hood raised. With his hands folded in front of his face, he seems to be shaking ever so slightly. When he finally does speak, his voice betrays a bubbling rage beneath a veneer of stony calm.

    Cyrus Truth: I tried, you know. I try very hard to never question the decisions of those who book the matches. As long as they show no favoritism towards any particular individual or group, it makes me little difference what they decide as long as they find me worthwhile competition. And they have! Most certainly, the three challengers to my championship at Mile High are among the best and brightest that FWA has to offer. They are all three champions in their own right and by all accounts worthy of a shot at the greatest glory that this company has to offer. That's what this match should be...but...but...

    Cyrus's mild shaking starts to get more and more noticeable. By his tone and body language, there's a LOT of anger that Cyrus is trying hard to suppress.


    Cyrus Truth: Ashley O'Ryan is a fool. FWA's management and matchmakers are MORONS. I don't...I don't understand. I don't understand what these IDIOTS were thinking in making this match. Have I not been a worthwhile champion? Has the prestige of the FWA World Championship been tarnished since I've held it? I would say the answer to those questions is a definitive "no." And yet, I can't understand for the life of me why O'Ryan and the suits in charge would put me on this path. WHY?! TELL ME WHY!?

    Cyrus's sudden shouting is punctuated by his head violently raising, throwing the hood off and exposing Cyrus's face for the entire world to see...and it's not a calming sight. Cyrus's usual calm, resolute face has been twisted into a wide-eyed, enraged visage. As if to press the point even harder, brief flashes of wild dogs growling and baring their teeth flash in, all in a blood-red filter. The images flash for just a couple of seconds before Cyrus continues.

    Cyrus Truth: I know what you're thinking! I know...I know! I can hear you chattering and muttering to yourselves. You think I'm on edge because this is my first Mile High Massacre. And some of the more dense of you think that I'm scared to compete in this match. Let me assure you that fear has nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with it! You think I'm afraid of pain? Of bleeding? Do you honestly believe that I'm not fully prepared to pay the price of glory with my own health, my very life!? Glory means EVERYTHING to me. It's the reason I wake up, the reason I continue to walk the Long and Winding Road, the sole prize I seek at Journey's End. For glory, what's a little blood? A broken bone or a torn ligament is a small price to pay to build a legacy beyond reproach. Glory is all...but if there is no glory to be had, then what is the POINT!?


    The red flashes return, this time showing the rabid hounds starting to dart at one another. A fight is close to breaking out, and it's doubtful it'll be a civilized one.

    Cyrus Truth: What "glory" does Mile High Massacre provide? What "greatness" is proven in such an environment? This is not a match where the objective is to defeat your opposition. Fight, yes, but defeat? No, no...overcoming your opponent is not the end goal. Pins, submissions...all the ways to prove you're the better warrior? They are meaningless. This is not a match that rewards the great. It's not a battlefield where the honorable can attain glory in combat. No...Mile High Massacre is an environment that rewards the scoundrel. It's a match where the jackals and hyenas thrive. The rewards don't go to the mighty lion, but to the opportunistic vulture who picks the bones after all has been left slain. Does the victor of this match have to beat me to claim my title? No! Not at all. I don't need to be pinned or submitted to lose what I have EARNED and defended. Tell me...does that prove someone's greatness if they don't have to beat the champion to become the champion? Is there any glory in swiping the championship like a thief in the night? Let me make myself perfectly clear...anybody who takes pride in winning a championship like how one has to inside Mile High Massacre does not deserve to call themselves the best. You want to prove that you're good enough to wear the crown? Then BEAT ME! Take my title from me with your own power, your own determination! Don't steal it from me just because you happen to be able to climb a ladder at just the right time...

    Cyrus exhales as he lets some of his rage go...but not all of it. There's still a crazed look in the eyes of the champion, a stare that shows a much darker side of The Exile's soul.

    Cyrus Truth: Do you know the worst part? The three individuals who are going to be locked inside that structure with me are each worthy of a proper title shot. They are all champions in their own right, after all. And it's hard to argue that any of them are undeserving of their gold. Bell has been Women's Champion for over a year and put up a hell of a fight against me. Hughes is the sole holder of the FWA Tag Team Championship and has had a career rebirth in spite of the company he keeps. And Parr? He's turned a joke title reign into a North American Championship win and a perfectly clean one-on-one victory against me. I would be more than content had I faced any one of these three one-on-one with my gold on the line. Hell, make it a four-way elimination match, and I'm ecstatic. Put us in a cage, and I've no problem. But the second you throw in ladders and change the conditions of "victory," if you can call it that, to one where you have to pull down the belt and not necessarily defeat anyone straight up? Suddenly this becomes not a match to prove both champion and challengers' mettle. This becomes a human car wreck where shady actions and pure dumb luck reign supreme. There's no honor to be tested, no glory to be had. Just a prize, a shiny gold and leather bauble for someone to claim. And it SICKENS me that my championship title is reduced to nothing more than a trinket, hanging waiting for some fumbling thief to pull down. Skill, talent, and mettle are dulled in the face of trickery, opportunism, and treachery when you throw together a match like this. So yes...everything I've tried to instill in my reign, to bring glory and prestige to a championship that has suffered time and again due to the egos and arrogance of would-be deities? All of that means nothing because FWA insists on tossing the four of us in a cage like beasts for no real reason and treat my title belt as a dangling hunk of meat. Oh, what wondrous glory...

    Ooh. That's it, isn't it? What's really got Cyrus riled up is the fact that his championship reign could end without even being beaten straight up. It's wound the champion up in a way FWA hasn't seen since he's arrived...and it's unsettling. Perhaps, even a bit frightening.

    Cyrus Truth: But even that? That's not the most foolish thing FWA did. No, no. Their idiocy goes much deeper. This match is stacked with the very best that FWA has to offer. All but one of the company's champions is in this match, and the prize is the greatest championship of them all. But therein lies the biggest problem. My opponents? If I should reclaim my belt and walk out of Mile High Massacre still the champion, they will have lost NOTHING. Their title reigns are not at stake, and the following Fight Night after Mile High? They'll still be able to call themselves "champions." To put it more simply...they have absolutely NOTHING to lose save for their health, and I've made clear time and again that that's always at risk whenever somebody steps into a ring with me. They could walk away with the biggest title in the company, and they have nothing they need to ante up for the opportunity. Will I earn shots at their championships if I emerge victorious? Doubtful. Will I have proven definitively that I am above and beyond them? Not at all. So while my opponents have next to nothing to lose and everything to gain, I have absolutely ZERO to gain and EVERYTHING to lose. My work, my life, my LEGACY can be stolen from me, and I can't even take heart in the fact that it was taken in a such a way to bring true glory to the one who may take the belt from me inside Mile High Massacre. So, when you send me into an environment that breeds and cultivates barbarism and brutality, put my honor and glory on the line, and offer no further glory to be had, exactly WHAT does FWA think I'm prepared to do to not lose this match?

    The red flashes return. The hounds are now fighting over an admittedly tiny piece of meat. But as minuscule as the meat is, the hounds are viciously tearing at it, biting and charging at one another just to claim the small prize for themselves.

    Cyrus Truth: I have walked the Long and Winding Road since I could remember. But the paths I took have changed with time, wisdom, and hindsight. In my younger years in this sport, I was not the man I am today. I was rage. I was madness. I was the type of wrestler who fought not for glory or greatness, but for the rush that I felt seeing my own blood. My name was synonymous with violence and wanton acts of brutality. My reputation was built in my early years not on a set of refined wrestling skills and a warrior's soul, but with the spirit of a blood-starved beast who cared for little except the warm sensation running up and down my spine at the sight of another battered, bloodied, and broken victim at my feet. Titles, prestige, glory, respect...I didn't care. All I wanted was to see how far I could push somebody before they would up and die. First Blood matches, hardcore matches...hell, even some matches considered too dangerous and stupid to ever try again! It didn't matter back then because it all gave me an opportunity to hurt, humiliated, and eviscerate the hapless fool who drew the short straw and had to face me in that ring. I learned...I learned that such a path doesn't leave much to be remembered by, much less anything worth remembering. And while, yes, I have said in the past that I'm willing to go to those lengths to keep my title and build my legacy, it was never the end goal. My rise to the top of pro wrestling was because brutality was a means to an end. But back then, in the bad old days? Violence and brutality were the end game. I reveled in my cruelty to others, and took great pleasure in seeing their faces contort in fear as I send them crashing into oblivion. The images of their near-lifeless, bloodstained forms...I can still see them as clearly as if they happened yesterday.

    And thanks to the red flashes, so can the video's viewers. Snippets of Cyrus's most brutal, most sickening matches flash. It's not just the weapons, not just the scars or the blood. What's truly haunting is the look in younger Cyrus's eyes. The eyes not of a champion or a warrior, but a ravenous monster, a predator seeking to have his fill of carnage and suffering...and loving every moment he gets to gorge on it.

    Cyrus Truth
    : I have come a long way since those days, but that madness...that thirst for blood and violence for the sake of blood and violence is still a part of me. It has been retrained and has given me an edge in many battles past and present...but all it would take is the right combination of environment and motivation to let that side of me loose. And should it be let loose? There's no coming back for any unfortunate soul trapped in that ring with me. And there lies FWA's folly. FWA had to know my past. FWA couldn't possibly be blind to the man I once was, the man I'm always two steps from turning back to. They HAD to know what dwells in my heart, and they had to realize that putting me in this match, this environment where I have nothing to gain but the ENTIRETY of my work in FWA to lose? This is the type of environment that HE would be reborn in. FWA has to know that they have sentenced three of their best to be slaughtered, and yet they insist on doing it anyway. Their stupidity and inability to learn from history will lead to their champions being sacrificed needlessly, and I cannot and will not bear this responsibility on my shoulders alone. So before the blood is spilled and the life leaves your eyes, allow me a chance to apologize.


    Cyrus's gaze turns to the camera, as red flashes of Bell's beaming smile and championship victory celebrations appear.

    Cyrus Truth: Bell, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that Shannon's desire for her own personal glory has manipulated your feelings and led you down this road. I'm sorry that I can't give you another honorable challenge befitting one of the finest champions and finest people that this industry has ever produced. I wish I could tell you that you'll survive Mile High Massacre with your head held high and your career, still so young, looking nothing but brighter for the future. But I can't. I can't even promise that you'll leave with your head still attached to your body.

    The red flashes now show Mike Parr, big shit-eating grin flashing his pearly whites as he proudly holds his title belts.

    Cyrus Truth:
    I'm sorry, Mike. I'm sorry that here and now, in the midst of your meteoric rise to the upper echelons, that it has to all come to a swift and brutal end. I'm so sorry that FWA doesn't trust you in a one-on-one main event on a major PPV for the World despite proving that you could not only stand toe-to-toe with me, but could match and even overcome me. This journey of yours from laughingstock to world-beater ends inside Mile High Massacre, and your life is forfeit because FWA has to have their precious little match.


    Now the flashes show Eyesnsane, not only just his recent Tag Titles victory but his other championship accomplishments.

    Cyrus Truth: And James...James. To you, I wish I could say that the moment you've been aching for your entire FWA career is within your grasp, but nothing awaits you inside Mile High Massacre except for your demise. I'm sorry that you'll never understand how capable you are of true greatness and instead will die with nothing but the sickening sweet words of a whore telling you you're greater than what you truly are. This tragic partnership of yours will end in blood and steel...and that wench? Once she sees you dead and cold, she'll not shed a single tear for you. A sad and unfitting end for a man who could be as fine a champion as this company has ever seen.

    The flashes stop, and the room Cyrus is in has become ghostly quiet. Nothing can be heard except for rolling thunder outside the window. It's faint, but as the seconds past by it becomes very obvious that the storm off in the distance is well on its way.


    Cyrus Truth: I don't want to do this. I don't WANT to end the careers of Bell, Mike, and James. But I CAN'T lose the championship. I CAN'T allow my title to be lost in such a way. I can't permit this to end this way. So, if given the choice between keeping what I have earned by becoming a monster or allowing my title's prestige to be sullied by having someone win it without needing to beat me, then I choose to be the monster. So fine, FWA. You want violence? I'll be violence. You want chaos and madness? I will allow both to fester and consume my heart. You want to put me in Mile High Massacre and put my championship on the line, knowing full well that I have been and will become the Devil himself and harvest the very lives and souls of those you put in my path? Then don't you dare look away. Don't you DARE say you didn't see this coming. You and every single FWA fan will not look away. You will all be witnesses to the consequences of your own foolish decisions. Because once I slam that cage door shut and my title is lifted high up in the air like some twisted bear-baiting, I will not be fighting to earn glory. I will not be fighting with honor. And what respect I have for the men and woman you lock inside that structure with me will not surface. I will break bones, I will tear flesh, I will spill blood until it pours from my victims and stains my hands.

    A bolt of lighting flashes and, just for an instant, the camera pans into Cyrus's hands and they look to be covered and dripping in blood. Another lightning flash, and the blood is gone.

    Cyrus Truth: Bell Connelly's fairy tale ends inside that cell. The many fans she's converted, both old and young, will weep bitter tears when they see her blonde hair caked in her own blood. I will grab Bell by the throat and squeeze until I can't feel her heart beat in my palm and prop her lifeless carcass on the walls of the cage as a monument to my sin and FWA's stupidity.

    Cyrus's expression, one of a mad sort of melancholy and regret, turns into one of smirking insanity in yet another lightning flash, then back again in the second.

    Cyrus Truth: Mike Parr's ascension will not culminate in a climb up a ladder to the gold that awaits. That ladder will be his crucifix as I toss him off it and use it to break every last bone in his body. And as he lays on the mat, a broken shamble of the great champion he could've been begging for just a second's reprieve, the last thing he will see is the sight of steel coming down to cave his skull in and punish him for a fault that was never his own.

    Cyrus is now visibly shaking, but as the lightning flashes Cyrus is now standing, flailing around and tossing random objects in a frenzy. Another flash of lighting returns to a shaken, tortured Exile as he continues.

    Cyrus Truth: And as for James? He dies like the rest. He will try to survive until the end and hope I stay distracted enough to secure the title for his "beloved" painted whore and the "glory" he hopes to gain. But I will not be distracted from the objective, and should James attempt to pilfer what he has not earned, he will suffer agony the likes of which will not be seen again until the end of days. I will revel in tearing him limb from limb, and beating him to death's door with every weapon I can get my hands on. And should the whore attempt to enter the cell to try and save him from the death he doesn't deserve but will receive anyway, I will take great and unsettling pleasure in watching the light drain from her eyes and laying her carcass next to his, so that perhaps the two can find actual love in the afterlife that the whore does not give him in this life.

    The lightning flashes yet again, and Cyrus is still sitting...but his expression is not one of melancholy anymore. No, no...this is the grinning, sadistic face of the Mad Vagabond who now sits in front of the camera, in this room that bears testament to the darkness that dwells in this man's soul.

    Cyrus Truth: Hehehehehehahahahahaha. Hahahahahaha! Is this what you truly want, FWA? To see the Truth turn back to Black, to show the world that the man who took your company's biggest event and greatest title hostage is nothing more than a rabid and feral beast? Well, here he is! Laid bare for all to witness! Poised and ready to be let off the chain inside Mile High Massacre! I hope it's everything you wanted it to be, because it's going to cost you and your fans greatly. Do you think I was joking when I said on Twitter that you better have replacement talent lined up for after Mile High? Oh no...no, no, nonononono. You will need what talent you can muster. Because I will maim and kill your champions inside that cage. Oh yes, they will suffer greatly and gain nothing. I will introduce them to a world I had thought best put behind me, but you seem to disagree! A world where blood is spilled, bones are crushed into powder, skulls are cracked and concussed, and atrocities are committed for no reason other than to stop thieves from taking something you've not allowed them to earn! That prize you're dangling in front of my three victims, the title my saner and more honorable component worked so hard to mean something? They will be tossed into darkness, and their last visions before the shadows overtake them will be of that prize, so far out of their reach that they will wonder to themselves why they ever thought they had a chance to reach out and grab it. Oh, what a wonderful gift you have given these fine, proud, and worthy champions! A violent end that leaves them with nothing save for the feeling of helplessness in the face of an oncoming and unstoppable storm...

    Cyrus's mad cackling is interspersed with more bolts of lighting as the camera zooms just as madly across the room, focusing on various writing on the wall while more snippets of Cyrus at his most violent flash to drive the point home that at Mile High, honor and proving greatness are not on the agenda for the FWA World Champion. The only goal is violence...wanton cruelty to his fellow champions in the name of stopping them from stealing away his title and his legacy.

    The storm has now surrounded this room that Cyrus is in, and considering the ramshackle condition of this room it's no surprise that the high velocity winds and pounding rain cause the walls to shudder and shake. One more lightning flash and Cyrus's mad ramblings are done, as The Exile stands in the middle of this storm as king and not lunatic...for now.


    Cyrus Truth: I will not forget or forgive what you have done, FWA. Forcing me to cast aside my honor and glory to keep something I have earned like this...oh yes, this affront will not go unanswered. If the Mad Vagabond is what you desire, you shall have him. And you will pay for this with the lives and livelihoods of three of your champions. I will endure this insult, however. I will endure it because I can. I will suffer this blow to my glory and greatness and emerge from Mile High Massacre with my title still firmly in my grasp. Because glory can be lost, and greatness can be tarnished...but they can always be regained. My work in FWA doesn't end until one rises great enough to definitively overcome me. It will not be at Mile High Massacre because you, FWA, will not allow it. You didn't book a match, O'Ryan. You booked a trio of executions. I will not let my championship reign end without being properly beaten for it...do you hear me?! This great work I've put into my legacy doesn't end just because some vulture is lucky enough to pluck the prize away and steal it. Mile High Massacre will be remembered as the night FWA learns that matches like this do nothing except provide an outlet for the ugliest and darkest parts of a wrestler's soul to run rampant, even if there's no reason for it. And as for my opponents? Bell...Mike...James...I am sorry that your paths to the top must end here. I don't seek forgiveness for the monstrous things I am now committed to doing inside Mile High Massacre...nor do I expect you to understand. All I can ask for is that you don't make it easy...that you make it as hard as humanely possible to stave off your inevitable demise. Bene mori. Requiesce in pace.

    Cyrus makes a sweeping motion with his right arm as the walls of his room of madness start to splinter and crack until they collapse entirely. The message here? Cyrus's bloodlust and wanton cruelty are no longer contained. Bell Connelly, James Hughes, and Mike Parr will see for themselves the sheer brutality and savagery that made his name one to fear. Before the video comes to an end, we are engulfed in one last flash of lightning as Cyrus's expression turns back to one of madness as he's right in the camera's face, per se. He ends the video with one last warning.

    Cyrus Truth: Enjoy your last moments without crippling pain, fellow champions...because at Mile High? You'll long for the days before you EVER met me...

    *****



  10. #10
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    November 18, 2016 - Jacimir Fighting Systems, San Diego, CA


    "Time!"


    Luis "M16" Correa flops down on the cage mat, panting heavily as KAIZEN puts his stopwatch down and hops into the cage.

    "God damn, Danny, you are heavy as fuck!! Why don't you stop slumping on me like a stack of pancakes, huh??"

    Opposite Luis, Daniel "Marika" Hein, a former college wrestling All-American from Penn State University and one of the newest fighters at JFS, just smiles and rests against the cage, too tired from trying to hold down the squirmy and shifty Correa for five minutes.

    KAIZEN swats lightly at Luis's head.

    "Bad, bad, bad! What'd we tell you about your underhooks from bottom, Luis?? If this was a real match you'd have been submitted within a minute, let alone five. I bet if Dan was using his elbows you'd be a little more aware."

    "Oooooh look at meeeee, I'm KAIZEN! Coach Jacimir isn't here so I'm the douchebag jiu jitsu coach todayyy!!! Let me get off of my throne as reigning king of virgintowne long enough to bless these peasants with my jiu jitsu knowlege!!!!"


    KAIZEN sighs and ignores the ribbing.

    "Good work, Danny, thanks a lot for helping this asshole out. I'll bring back some nice Pinga from Brazil for you, okay?"

    "Heh, you don't have to get me anything, man, just happy to help out."

    "Bitchass Danny don't drink no Pinga, this sweater vest square is just gonna waste it, you might as well just give it to me! Are you even 21 yet, Danny? You look like you're 12."

    KAIZEN gets out of the cage as Luis continues to try and rile Daniel up. He puts his shoes back on and prepares to go catch his flight to Brazil.


    "Oh shit, wait a sec homes!"


    Luis hops out of the cage and runs to the front desk area.


    "Package came for you this morning, mang."

    Luis tosses a bulky manila envelope to KAIZEN. KAIZEN inspects the package, only to find an unrecognized Japanese return address on it.

    "Saitama? The heck is this from? I don't know anyone who lives in 3-chome..."

    "Beats me. I bet you still ordering hentai tapes through the mail like a fucking nerd. Mang, its 2016, don't you know you can get all your freaky hentai shit online? I stopped ordering porn tapes through the mail years ago, I bet you must be so embarrassed right now. Hey Kacey!!! You better start growing some tentacles if you wanna win over Virgin Wank Kenobi over here, ya heard??? Heheheh, Virgin Wank Kenobi... man I'm so funny!"


    Kacey "Rachanon" Etxeberria bounds over and smacks Luis with a stiff kick to the thigh.

    "Owwww!!!!!! I don't have pads on yet!!"

    "Don't know, don't care. Muay thai spar, cage, now!!"


    Luis runs off as Kacey gives KAIZEN a shy wave.

    "Have a good, uh, good trip, Kai."


    KAIZEN smiles and waves at Kacey as he exits, absentmindedly waving the envelope with his hand as he does.


    ---------

    February 1994 - Astina Hotel Shinjuku, Tokyo


    He runs.

    He runs as fast as he can. Even though Shinjuku is familiar territory to him, the distance has never seemed so far, so long. It wasn't a lost cause if he couldn't find her here, but if she had already gone to Narita... well...

    He runs into the lobby of the Astina. Looking around wild-eyed and out of breath, a concerned receptionist steps out from the front desk.

    "Sir, can we help you?"

    He struggles to catch his breath.

    "I.... I, uh... I'm looking for a guest, has she checked out yet? Her name is...."

    "MINORU?"

    MINORU turns around to see a woman with a rolling suitcase in one hand and a tennis bag in the other. The woman, wearing sunglasses and a hat and ready to head out, is also in possession of one further important piece of luggage: a sleeping baby, strapped to her chest in a baby carrier.

    "Io!"

    MINORU quickly bows in apology to the confused front desk staff and walks over to the woman.

    "Io... please..."

    "My taxi is waiting outside, MINORU, whatever you ha-"

    "Don't go."


    Io "SHIRAIBA" Carvajal, womens pioneer wrestler, longtime Queen of PANKRASH, and the only woman to ever have challenged for the Super Puro Japan World Heavyweight Championship, scoffs at MINORU's plea.

    "I am not long for this world, MINORU. Is this really what you wish for me? For me to spend my last days here in misery?"


    MINORU shakes his head.

    "Don't go, Io. You can be treated here, there's no way they have better medical care in Brazil than here in Japan!!"


    Io sighs and turns away, causing MINORU to desperately dart in front of her.

    "No, please!! KUMA, Nawaki, they've told me everything!!! I know the truth now, Io, all the lies Hook told us, all the deception.... we can help you, we are all here for you, Io!! Don't throw your life away just because, because of these matters of pride! Me, Hugo, KUMA, Shinya,we can all help-"

    Io Carvajal laughs.

    "Just stop."

    MINORU complies.

    "I appreciate your gesture, MINORU. I really do. But the vote to expel me from PANKRASH was near unanimous. Nobu, Kazami, Nawaki... nobody had the time of day to hear me out. They all voted to expel me. And even MINORU... the Iron Tiger himself, even you..."

    "I WAS LIED TO!!!! If I had known the truth I would never have done that, you know me!!! I would have walked out of PANKRASH with you in an instant!! Why didn't you tell me?? Why didn't you reach out to me afterwards?"

    "And do what? Distract the Iron Tiger from his Ironman Match against Kanshin? The match that you begged to have in the Tokyo Dome, the match you lobbied years and years for? Surely with all the training camps, all the travel, all the focus on being the best wrestler in the world... would you really have had time to hear out a washed-up old friend?"

    MINORU reaches out for Io's hand.

    "Don't talk like its all over already!!!! I..."


    The baby in Io's chest stirs a little but doesn't wake. Io leans her head down and kisses the baby on the forehead.

    "I'm leaving, MINORU. I am going back home, back to a place where at least if someone wants to stab me, they'll do it in the front and not in the back. My child... my baby boy... I am going to take him far away from here. I am going to take him back home, far far away from SPJ, PANKRASH, all of this. I am taking him away from this life, this world, this place where men devote all of their body and soul to the art of destruction and glory, yet have no idea what it means to live a full life, a life with the love of family, friends, peers... real love and caring... not something superficial, hollow, or fake.

    My child deserves a better life than I can give him here. This... you, me, us standing here right now, in this moment... he doesn't deserve... this."


    Io Carvajal slowly pushes MINORUs hand off of hers. She takes hold of her luggage and bags and walks toward the door. She sighs as MINORU once again darts in front of her, but this time MINORU has moved forward to hold the door for her. As she passes by, she sees tears silently running down MINORU's face.

    She sighs.

    "You're the SPJ World Heavyweight Champion. Wipe those tears away before someone photographs you. You're acting pathetic."

    As she passes by MINORU, she whispers something into his ear, out of the earshot so that the approaching taxi driver cannot catch the words. As the taxi driver takes Io's bags, MINORU bows deeply to Io, who doesn't turn around to face him.

    "Forgive me. Everything that has happened is all my fault."

    Io Carvajal slowly eases her baby and herself into the back seat of the taxi. She adjusts her sunglasses, making sure her eyes are obscured.

    "Don't say such stupid things, you idiot.

    Goodbye, MINORU. I wish you well."


    --------------------------------

    November 20, 2016 - Bahia, Brazil


    As the sun beats down on the little garden with its rows of bushes and small trees, KAIZEN sits down in front of a marble slab on the ground. The slab reads:

    “Io Shirai Carvajal”
    “1969-2002”

    KAIZEN makes the pilgrimage at least once a year to visit his grandmother in Bahia and visit his mothers grave. Usually these are happy, somewhat pensive occasions. Yet KAIZENs face today is ashen.

    He has read the contents of the envelope earlier prior to arriving in Brazil. On the weekend of his visit, from an unknown source which KAIZEN had yet to identify, KAIZEN had learned the truth.

    PANKRASH had betrayed Io "SHIRAIBA" Carvajal.


    In her greatest time of need, all the founding members of PANKRASH had voted to expel her.

    Including MINORU.

    KAIZEN touches the lime green marble of the slab stone.


    "Hi Mom... happy birthday.

    So, yeah... I don't know if you've been aware, but uh... its been a wierd year for me. A tough year. I kinda lost my shit at the start of the year and then I lost the World Heavyweight Title... took a lot of climbing, a lot of soul searching to get back to a place where I was comfortable with myself again. I gave it all I had at Back in Business but I still lost, but hey, I won Quest for the Best so theres still that, you know?"


    KAIZEN carefully traces his fingers on the engraved words.

    "Lately I've been having problems, mom... I've come up against some tough competitors, female competitors. They're fantastic wrestlers in their own right, might have given you a run for your money, you know? But recently, I've been hesitating a little... its like when I see them in the ring and I'm about to give them that MINORU Special... more than once, I saw you in them. That drive, that courage, that never-say-die attitude....

    The same things that wore and broke your body down... I saw it in them as well. And I became afraid. I didn't want to be responsible for any kind of long-term damage, any kind of pain...

    So one of them got sick of my shit and caved my head in with a kick."


    KAIZEN laughs a little as he gently wipes the marble with his thumb.


    "She said I was taking it easy on women. She said I was being disrespectful. She said I was treating them differently. And you know what? She's probably right.

    I was thinking on the flight here, thinking about what you used to tell me when you were first teaching me jiu jitsu. Remember what you always used to say? You used to say that 'jiu jitsu is about choices. jiu jitsu is about control'.

    I'm afraid to lose control, Mom. The last time I did that I hit a dude with a hammer, set another one on fire, and then tried to dye the World Heavyweight Title red."


    KAIZEN sighs.

    "I've been thinking all this time, what would you do, you know, if you were here? How would you act if you were in my shoes? How would you act if you were in Shannon O'Neal's shoes? I thought about it, and knowing you, i think what you'd have done if you were in her shoes was to tell me 'control is overrated' and then kicked my face in. I guess.... just like you didn't want or need a superman to swoop in and save you, the women of FWA don't need a superman to be watching over them either.

    So I'm going to go in at Mile High and give Shannon O'Neal what she wants. I'm not going to hold anything back, I'm going to honor your legacy and I'm going to give due respect to Shannon and the FWA by taking her out. Pin, submission, doesn't matter. If someone gets hurt, if someones career ends in that ring in Boston... then it is what it is."


    KAIZEN stands up and takes a look one more time at the full stone. He sees inside the small house that his grandmother is signalling for him to come inside and eat something.

    "I just wonder... Mom, if you're watching over me right now...

    Are you proud of me? Are you proud of the man that I've become?"


    Only the wind answers KAIZEN. He scratches his head, leans down to brush off some errant blades of grass that the wind has blown onto the stone, and slowly walks back inside.






  11. #11
    I'm a Stone Cold Lee Guy.
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread



    "The Divine Comedy"
    MILE HIGH MASSACRE
    FWA UNDISPUTED CHAMPIONSHIP
    Eyesnare Vs Bell Connelly Vs Mike Parr Vs Cyrus Truth
    Sunday, 27th November 2016
    TD Garden, Boston, Massachusetts, US -
    The lights are on in the empty arena as people begin to put the finishing touches on the set for this weekend’s big Pay Per View show. The stage is set up, the ring is assembled, and above it as the Mile High Massacre cage , a mass of steel hovering over the battlefield. In the back, the production crew watches the arena from a screen as buttons are pushed to kickstart a mechanism. Things are set into motion as the giant cake begins to slowly descend over the ring. FWA’s technicians have decided to test the hanging device to make sure that the cage can be dropped safely and securely, but unbeknownst to them, they aren’t the only people watching the cage fall. Standing amidst the empty stands, at the top of the stairs where he would usually be found at the start of a match, is Bell Connelly. Arms crossed in front of her chest and with a blank stare on his face, Bell watches the cage intently, knowing that the biggest night of her life is going to take place inside of it. The three others that she was going to face off against were
    bona-fide main eventers Cyrus Truth established himself as a legitimate warrior a dominating war king. Eyesnare is known far and wide as one of the most cerebral, pragmatic, and brutal competitors to compete in a wrestling ring and there’s a reason why they refer to Mike Parr as a “Prodigy”. All brutal war hungry. Violent individuals...So Bell is the obvious one out. With thoughts of the challenges that await him permeating through her head Until suddently she begins humming to herself.




    Bell Connelly
    “Mhhhh-hmm-hhm-hmm-ma-hhmmm-ma himmm-hmmmm-hmmm-hmm-mhh-ma-hmmm-



    Bell leans forward and slowly makes a grab for the sticker covered belt beside her, her eyes twitching over the hellscape she sees before her


    Bell Connelly
    “Wind from the east, mist coming in like something is brewing, about to begin...


    At this point, her voice is no longer trying to be quiet her voice low and thoughtful


    Bell Connelly
    “Can’t put me finger on what lays in store, but I feel like what’s to happen. All happened before


    Bell eyes suddenly broke out from her daydream as she hears FWA’s resident interviewer Katie Lynn Goldsmith approach her and takes a seat


    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith:
    Sorry. just felt a little weird to see you standing here looking all intense without your theme playing in the background, yanno? I wouldn’t have expected you to be out here until it was game time.”


    Bell Connelly: “Yeah. I was just… thinking about things….and stuff...more stuff then things really”


    …Says Bell in an almost surprisingly subdued manner. Katie doesn’t seem to be surprised, though, as she simply smiles and nods expectantly.


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith:“I don’t blame ya. It’s a big night. It’s not all that strange to find someone out here, mulling over what’s going to be one of the biggest matches of their careers thus far…..I know I ALWAYS regret asking you this….but what’s on your mind?”


    Bell Connelly
    “Look at it.”


    …Says Bell as she turns her attention back towards the cage.


    Bell Connelly:“.....I don’t think anyone thought I’d get here….I don’t think anyone could EVER see me in a match like this….And after what happened last month. I don’t think anyone can see me walking out of here with two sticker covered titles. “What is it with people and the word “Can’t”? Can’t can’t can’t. So much in this world….If you want my opinion… People confuse “Can’t” with what’s impossible WAY too many times with what’s unexpected. I mean you could say to me “Bell you can’t go into that cage totally nude covered in chocolate syrup but there’s nothing STOPPING me from doing that….except...you know LAWS and stuff….but really? Who could put me in cuffs? I’m too adorable to go to jail See, I can call myself a lot of thing FWA Woman’s champion. Fairy Princess. National twerking champion ….but in that cage? I’m just a girl. A girl making the climb, a girl trying to prove that she is better than what everyone thought she was by doing the impossible and climbing out of hell. I am a girl making a journey, turning into the underdog...again! faced against the odds that have been stacked against me.Sure, maybe some people think I’m good enough to pull it off. My boop army have my back, but me? I ain’t gonna get ahead of myself. The way I see it? I got three trials ahead of me...Uno...dos...Tres... three opponents, three different challenges that I need to overcome if I’m ever going to show that I’m worthy of being near that FWA World Heavyweight Championship, let alone winning it. And to be honest, I gotta thank Cy for this. Because ever since he made me tap out and we both got put in the match It got me thinking...Thinking...thinking. It got me thinking about things that I would’ve never thought before, and it brought on a new perspective that I would’ve never seen otherwise.


    Wow, that was one word you’d never think would come out of the mouth of Bell Connelly but there it was, said with about as much weight and punctuation that Bell could put on a single word


    Bell Connelly, The more I said that word in my mind, the more it stuck. The more it stuck, the more it made sense. The more it made sense, the more I realised… that I need to win this match. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that this is my time, my opportunity. If this match was going to fulfil anyone’s fate, if ANYONE’S story was going to be written this Sunday… it’s going to be mine.”


    With that said, Bell glances back at Katie.


    Bell Connelly:“Katie, you ever heard of The Divine Comedy?”


    Katie hesitated at the surprise question, looking around awkwardly. That… is not a question someone would expect to be asked from someone with an unhealthy obsession with glitter.


    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith “Uh… yeah. It was written by that Italian guy, right? Dante... something? It’s a story about him going through the different circles of Hell and stuff. Not gonna lie, Bell, hearing you bring up something like this outta the blue is a little unexpected. I mean I didn’t know you were into classical literature.”


    Bell Connelly:“Welp, when I started thinking about hell, I started looking into it, because I felt like it was the best representation of the type of ordeal I’ve got ahead of me, and I was right.That really my normal read….REALLY would have been better if it was a pop-uo...but it goes a little something like this. Dante’s halfway through his life when he feels like he’s starting to lose himself. He’s straying from the righteous path, down the road to ruination, and so, in an attempt to gain perspective and come out a better man, he goes on a journey through the three realms of the afterlife: Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. In his journey through the circles of Hell, he saw true evil. He saw the selfish, the violent, and the malicious, all types of wicked people, each suffering their own poetic punishment. Things like false prophets who attempted to look forward into the future having their heads turned around so they can only look behind, things like that. Going into Purgatory, he saw corruption. People who could’ve been pure souls but have been warped by temptation and sin. These are the people who strayed from the holy path. They can be saved, but only if they pay penance. Finally, he makes it up to Heaven, where he discovers all the virtues that make up a righteous man. Fortitude, Temperance, heh… Justice… these are some of the things he learns about that keeps a man on the straight and narrow. In the end, he meets up with God, who explains to him the true nature of existence, and in the end, he is enlightened, transcended, gone beyond a pure man into an ultimate being of all-knowing wisdom….HALLELUJAH Now, think about what I just said, Dante went through three realms.


    Bell gestures towards the cage in front of them. The point she was trying to make was crystal clear.


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith:“Three opponents?


    Bell Connelly: BINGO! GOLD STAR!“Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. Renee, this is my story. This is MY Divine Comedy taking place, and I’m the one who has to live it out. Barely anyone else in the existence of this sport has ever been in the type of position that I am in right now. The three different opponents are a metaphor, but where the realms really lie are within my opponents. Each one of them presents a different type of challenge that I have to overcome. If I am going to become the FWA World Heavyweight Champion… no. If I am going to become MORE than that, if I am going to achieve IMMORTALITY in this business, then I need to take on each of my opponents, I need to take on the challenge that each of them are going to present to me, and I need to completely demolish them. Cyrus, Mike and Eyes., to me, they aren’t men. They aren’t people, they aren’t human beings. They are forces of nature. They are the representations of the trials that a man has to go through in order to surpass mortality. Nothing against Dante, he learned a lot on his journey, but here’s where his and mine deviate, because he never had to fight. He never had to fight in Hell, in Purgatory, and not in Heaven...seriously who fights in heaven? but for me? I got three obstacles to climb. Three large, daunting obstacles that few have ever faced before and none have ever faced all at once. If I want to become the FWA World Heavyweight Champion, if I want to be worthy of the title of FWA World Heavyweight Champion, then I need to go through each trial, take on each opponent, and succeed. I need to fight my way through the demons in hell smash through the sinners in Purgatory that stand before me and lay siege to the gates of Heaven itself. And just like Dante before me, my road starts deep deep deep down in the smouldering depths of Hell.”


    Bell takes a step down the stairs, catching Katie by surprise at the sudden movement. Keeping her eyes locked straight in the Cage in front of him, Bell takes a couple more steps downwards before slowly coming to a stop. With her head tilted downward, Bellringers on his thoughts before lifting his head, sweeping her hair back as Katie steps up to her side. Still focused on the cage, Bell points out to it as she begins to speak.



    Bell Connelly
    :See the way I figure Eyesnare represents Hell. The thing about Hell is that it is the ultimate punishment for the guilty. Those who are evil in life, the ones who are absolutely malicious and unrepentant get sent there. Children are raised with the idea that if they’re naughty, they get sent down where the big red devil immolates them in brimstone. They learn to fear. For all the punishment that the devil could inflict upon a man for his wicked deeds, the greatest aspect of Hell is the fear of that punishment. For a long, long time, Eyes has represented this to a tee… And no one wants to get into heaven more than ol nick….He’s been trying to get more than anyone...so many times he’s knocked, knock knocking on heaven’s door….only to be cast out time and time again...so how do you beat the devil?


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith “…How?”



    Katie responds immediately but doesn’t get an immediate response back. Standing in silence, Bell opts only to look at her, the unspoken communication saying more things in her head than it could out loud? What chance does Bell have? If someone whose been denied time and time again...so full with inner raged and fueled by Gabby how exactly is Bell going to handle it? How can she handle it? It’s not like she can rely on Mike Parr or Cyrus Truth to help her, can she? Those walls are going to be closed down around them. There’s no escape for Bell, nowhere to go With all these questions and doubts swimming through Bell head, they immediately get interrupted by the typical beaming smile that suddenly appears on Bell’s face.


    Bell Connely:“You take away his greatest weapon. You go in with no fear. You don’t get psyched out, and you kick him square in the mush.It literally didn’t matter who comes out to face me. What is Eyesnare compared to anyone else? Nothing. Nothing but another opponent and another obstacle. Maybe now I should be scared. Now that Eyes HAS the reason to hunt me down, He’d not going to like me leapfrogging him after he’s spent so long knocking on the door of the main event...he’s gonna come straight for my throat. This, Katie, is the first trial of my Divine Comedy. To escape Hell, I must overcome fear.”


    Bell took a side glance towards Katie, a fiery concentration in her eyes. Silence befell the two as Bell took a pause in her speech. She certainly didn’t seem like the fearful type. If she was, she was really good at hiding it before, but now? She’s made it clear that she simply has no fear to hide.


    Bell Connelly: “The challenge of Hell that keeps men from attaining greatness is fear. The fear that they will lose, the fear that they cannot succeed, the fear that they’re just not good enough to get the job done. Against a guy like then? That fear is real. It’s legitimate, and he gives you a reason to believe you’re gonna get your ass kicked especially a pissed off, driven Eyes, and guess what? he doesn't scare me , and why? Because I already know that I can beat him. It’s not just a matter of ignoring fear or overcoming it. At this point, it’s the fact that I’ve already proven I can, and it doesn't matter if ‘he’s more driven now than ever I’m still gonna beat him . If he wants to keep me down in Hell, he can try. If he wants to cast me down, throw me into the pits of despair, he can attempt it as many times as he likes But I am making my way out of Hell, and he ain’t gonna stop me. If he stands in my way, I will run through him if he gets back up, I’m just gonna put him down again. I’m not afraid of what he could do in that cage and he tries and breaks me because I’m gonna fight, and when it comes down to it, it’ll be him falling back down into the pits of Hell, and not me. It was a lack of fear that allowed me to get here and it’s a lack of fear that will let me overcome Eyesnare and he can tell that story. He can tell them the story of Bell Connelly, about how I took his worst and put him down and forced him to watch as i marched straight out the gates of Hell, leaving him in the ash and the dust and ascended into Purgatory.”


    As Bell says she’s about to ascend into Purgatory, she ironically begins descending down the stairs, once again going rather slowly and taking it one step at a time. Following alongside her, Katie scratches her head a bit, working out her own perspective of whole “Divine Comedy” idea before chiming in with her two cents.


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith “Thinking of it from a literal match standpoint, He’d be the one that would probably be the one who’s most likely to shut you down early. He never seems to stay down for long, so he can always catch you if you’re trying to climb.”


    Bell Connelly: God you’re on fire today!“Heh, yeah. You’re right. Under usual circumstances , I’d tell you that my gameplan would be to let Cy and Parr distract him and climb in the confusion. I wouldn’t count on that, though. Even if I could fight way past Eyes and somehow magically slip by Cy, I couldn’t do that with Mr Parr. He’s perceptive. He’d notice if I tried to climb, and he’d attempt to stop me. He might not be as efficient at it as Eyesnare is but guaranteed he’d come after me, and I’m expecting him to be on my tail…


    Bell stopped once again, standing halfway down the stairs as Renee stops with her. Looking back up at the cage


    Bell Connely
    “So I climb my way out of Hell and make it into Purgatory. This is where I’m gonna have to deal with Mike Parr. I associate this realm with him because this is the place of the sinners. This ain’t a place of gods or devils or ghosts or spooks; there are no otherworldly beings here. It’s all just the souls of men and women who have done wrong, people who weren’t inherently evil…. but fell into it. The thing with Mike Parr between my three opponents? He can be considered the most “mortal”. He’s the most human in his perspectives and motivations. Cyrus is….Well...Cyrus. he “conquers” people, because that’s just what he does. It’s the only thing he thinks about. Eyessnare himself is power tripping and trying to prove he can take over the world with Gabby and all that jazz.They’re kind of...y’know….tunnel visioning... they don’t get the details in their viewpoints that….you know...Sane people. You know like me and you. Parr, though, he’s never been strictly a man in black and white, which is why it’s fitting that I’ve been him to the place where people’s actions are eternally grey. I’ve heard him talking and talking. Before all this title business, I’ve learned not just how he operates, but why he operates. He’s a classic Purgatory soul. All the things he did, he feels it was for some just purpose.


    Bell scoffed. At first glance, it’s rather ridiculous to believe that a man like Parr might’ve had any benign reasons for doing the things he’s done. However, Bell knew better. After all, this was no longer his first glance.


    Bell Connelly
    “Now….. I’ve been watching Mike Parr closely.I’ve been tracking him out the corner of my eye, to see if his façade was going to break at any point. Thing is, it hadn’t until now. Mike Parr was true in his words. He believed every word he said. Regardless of whether he was actually doing good or not, he thought he was doing good. He wanted to do good. His mind was just too warped to accomplish that goal. Rather than try to become strong in his heart, he fell to temptation. He heard the voices of ego in his ears and he listened. He was weak.He succumbed to his darker thoughts, and if I want to have any hope of winning? I need to make sure I don’t do the same.”


    Katie took a sharp glance at Bell as she said that.


    Bell Connelly: “Whatever Parr might be to me personally, right now, he’s my second trial. He is the trial of Purgatory, the trial of temptation. He is the reminder that I can’t let myself be distracted by ambition and...let whatever it is that this place does to people happen to me.The point of this match isn’t to maul and dismember. It’s to climb the ladder and win the FWA World Heavyweight Title. If I ever get the chance, You can bet I’ma fight ...But I won’t forget who I am., If I am going to win, I must not succumb. I am not going fail my mental restraint, and I will not lose control. The others may be the type of man to fall to darker dreams of violence,...but I’m not going to do the same. So he can say whatever he wants to goad and to taunt it don’t matter. Maybe I’m not going to beat him near to death. Maybe he’ll still be able to breathe when this is all over. When I get in there with Parr, but you can be sure I’m gonna BEAT him. I’m going to cast aside any immediate thoughts of violence, because for as loud as my fists speak, there, not one thing that speaks louder, and when I climb up into Heaven, take that FWA title and claim it for my own? I’m doing it the ring way.


    With a smile, Bell turns back to look down the steps as she begins to slowly step down again. Katie brow furrowed at the sight of that smile. It’s kinda hard to tell exactly where it fell on the line between confidence and arrogance. Then again, that line does tend to be kind of blurry in the first place. Following Bell down the steps, Katie once again chimes in with her own thoughts.


    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: The right way?


    Bell Connelly: “Yeah, but that’s if I win. I may leave Mike Parr’s in the dust in Purgatory, but I still got one more realm to conquer.”


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith: “Heaven, right? And I guess you’re gonna tell me that God is going to be Cyrus Truth


    Bell just chuckles and steps up the stairs


    Bell Connelly; “Come on. Do you really need me to tell you that? As if you haven’t already heard him say the same thing exact thing a million times over?”


    Katie stops alongside Bell, laughing at the comment.


    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith“Okay, yeah, you’ve got a point. he constantly sings his own praises


    Bell Connelly: I mean… It ain’t hard to see why Cyrus ts pinned to Heaven in my Divine Comedy. Put simply, he’s a god. He’s dominated everything there is to dominate in this business. He practically rules the world. This man is legitimately unstoppable trust me I know I throw everything I had at him...he’s special ever since he arrived in FWA...Who’s he beaten? He’s beaten… no one, actually.”


    Bell hesitates in her statement as she suddenly seems to change her sentiment in mid-sentence. Had Cyrus beaten no one? Is Bell serious? Before Cyrus can interrupt with a question, Bell keeps going.


    Bell Connelly
    “…No. Cyrus Truth never beat anyone, because he doesn’t beat people. He CONQUERS people. He ANNIHILATES people. So say that he’s done anything less to his opponents is just a lie and I’ma tell it like it : He’s cut through...Everyone! Totally everyone! Normally, that wouldn’t mean much. Top tier can beat top tier, and Truth certainly on top. But to completely dismantle, utterly obliterate not just one, but SEVERAL former world champions, all without breaking a sweat? He’s not human. He’s is a god, a jealous god of violence who suffers none who try to challenge his throne. He is The Usurper, Anything you think makes you big, anything you think makes you special or noteworthy or legendary, he’s going to take from you. He’s going to rip your accomplishments and achievements right out of your hands, break ‘em into little tiny pieces, and reduce them to dust. That is what Cyrus Truth does. He reigns over all. With immeasurable strength and unstoppable fury, he takes all your heroes and your champions and buries their legacies straight in the dirt. So knowing that, here comes the big question. Riddle me this; How do you defeat a god? How do you go up against someone who has that much power, who is that much of an indestructible force, and defeats it? How does someone siege the throne of God without getting destroyed in return?”


    Bell looks over at Katie, seeing if she could possibly have any answers for her. Seeing the curious look on her face, Katie mulls over the question for a bit. It’s really a hard question to answer. The reason why gods are, well, GODS are because they’re all-powerful. So how does someone beat an all-powerful being? How can a mortal man possibly achieve such a feat?


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith:“I… have no idea.”


    Bell Connelly:“You sure? You ain’t got any ideas?”


    Katie shrugs her shoulders with a sigh.


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith:“Sorry, Bell. I can’t help you. I honestly have no clue. I mean, Cyrus is a freak of nature! He’s beaten everyone there possibly is to beat! Does anyone know how you could possibly beat him?”


    Bell Connelly:“Mike Parr might.”


    Bell flashes a smirk that draws an incredibly incredulous look from Katie return.


    Bell Connelly:“Oooooorr maybe I should ask Ryan Rondo? Or how about Drew Connor?”


    Bell smirk grows as she rattles off a list of people who have beaten Cyrus Truth. However, Katie look of scepticism only grows in intensity just as well.


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith:“Okay, so maybe there are some guys who have beaten Cyrus. Are you gonna tell me that you can do the same? Are you going to tell me that you can do what they’ve done?”


    Bell Connelly“Why not? Other people have beaten him before. What’s stopping me?”


    Bell smirk begins to fade, the expression of amusement being replaced by a much more quietly confident smile.


    Bell Connelly
    “Whether Cyrus is a god or not, regardless of how strong or how tough he is, the fact of the matter is this. He has been beaten before. Even in FWA, he’s been beaten. Ain’t no one who can act like he’s unbeatable. The only reason why people do? It’s because they forget about the losses. They buy into the image into him, the buy into all the hype that that he is a self-righteous, all-powerful god, and THAT is why people treat him like he really is a god. Just like all gods in existence, whether they’re mythical beings talked up by normal people, or normal people claiming to be mythical beings, all gods rely on one thing, and that is their image. As long as people believe in a god, he has power. They will worship him, they will revere him, they will let him do whatever he wants, not because he actually HAS power, but because they believe he has power. This is my third obstacle. The final challenge in this Divine Comedy is the trial of Heaven, the trial of belief. Truth has power because of all the hype around him.and why? Because they took a few big victories and blew it all out of proportion I’m not buying into everyone’s expectations, everyone’s beliefs. If the standard is to treat Truth like he’s some kind of almighty deity, then my test is to challenge that. My trial is not to prove he can be beaten, but to REMIND people that Truth can be beaten...and he doesn’t want you to remember that That’s how he beats people because they buy into his aura If I went in there believing I was going to box with God, I would falter. I would hesitate and crumble. Every single person loses because they believe every word he says, However, I ain’t gonna do the same. I am going to lay siege to his kingdom and challenge his rule. I am going to rip apart this false Heaven, brick by ivory brick, and it’s going to be a rude awakening for him Ain’t no gods here. Just wrestlers who get beat down,wrestlers who feel pain,wrestlers who lose, and Cyrus? He’s just one of the same. So if he wants to go in there with a big head without realising I’m the one who’s going to dismantle his almighty image? That’s fine. If he suplexes me, I’m getting back up. If he hits me, I’m hitting him back. I’m bringing in the upheaval of this sick little system of worship he’s built. I am going to bury these flawed, pre-conceived beliefs. Just like Nietzsche, I am going to kill god, and I am going to be the Ubermensch that ushers in MY time. All the more fitting too, because you know what Ubermensch means?”


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith
    : “What?”


    Bell stops in place and looks to Katie her eyes sparkling.


    Bell Connelly“Superman.”


    Bell keeps eye contact for a moment until she abruptly turns and faces the cage again. Ubermensch, huh? That’s something Katie wasn't expecting to be brought up. Isn’t that the thing that says you should denounce pre-established virtues and make up your own to live by? Before Katie can ask Bell how someone like her is knowledgeable in things like Chinese strategy, Italian literature, and German philosophy, Bell ignores her and begins heading down the steps again, this time at a much faster pace than before. Going down at the speed he typically does when she has a match, Bell quickly reaches the barricade at the bottom, with Katie arriving behind her a second after. Staring up at the cage from the ground view for the first time, Bell keeps his eyes locked on it as he begins to speak.


    Bell Connelly: Wouldn’t it be funny if I lost this match? If you want the most poetic, dramatic finish, you’d be looking for me to win. My story’s gone full circle. Started from the bottom...now I'm here. I’m going up against a man whose more driven than ever to win the belt an egomaniac in Mike Parr andOf course, I’m going up against the big bad himself, Cyrus Truth And all of this is for the sake of validation, for a championship that would not only put me on their level but would let me surpass them. Beating any of these men is an accomplishment in itself. If I beat them all for the FWA World Heavyweight Championship, it’d be absolutely incredible. Knowing that, just think of it. Wouldn’t it be funny… wouldn’t it be funny for me to build up all this dramatic tension in my career, only to watch me fail?” If I got this far, got this close to the title, matched up against opponents this powerful, wouldn’t it be hilarious if I lost? ..., that means I’m the one with the most to gain in this match. Whether you think this is my story or not, fact of the matter is, I fought my way here, and I ain’t gonna back down just because these three feel like they got some sort of psychological leverage over me. I ain’t afraid of anyone. At the end of Dante’s story, he gained enlightenment. At the end of mine? I gain a title. This title says that I am BETTER then the men who have competed against me. I am better than those who are better than everyone else. I am stronger than the strongest, tougher than the toughest, smarter than the smartest, and no one will be able to prove me wrong. I don’t give a damn who thinks they own this place, whose yard they think this is, whether it’s Eyessnare’s Truth or Parr’s. All that matters is that when it’s all said and done, I’m going to shock the world. Ih. Because after all, what else matters here? It don’t matter if you’re a devil or a sinner or a god. It doesn’t matter how strong you think you are. What matters is how strong you prove you are,. I will prove my worth…...I’m going to get my happy ending


    Katie Lynn Goldsmith:“Sounds like poetic justice.”


    …Says Katie with a smile. Bell looks at her strangely, trying to tell if she’s encouraging her just trying to be cute, or both. Either way, Bell smiles back at the sentiment.


    Bell Connelly:
    “Heh. Poetic justice. Sounds about right. Tonight, this is my Divine Comedy, and I’m re-writing the story. Right now, this place is my Hell, my Purgatory, my Heaven, my three trials that I must overcome., it’s going to be a cage, where I am going to face three of the greatest in this business and I’m going to show them what a fairytale princess can do


    With that statement said, Bell begins to walk off, heading towards the side and turning a corner to make her way up the ramp and leave the stage. Rather than follow , Katie stays behind, letting her leave in peace so she can linger on her thoughts without any distractions. This is a pretty interesting point, Bell made. If tonight was going to be anyone’s story, it would be hers. The main question is, does her story have a happy ending or a sad ending? Will Bell prevail over his opponents and stand tall as the FWA World Heavyweight Champion? Or will he she left in the dust, forced to wallow in bitter defeat? No one knows, but one thing’s for sure. This is one match you definitely don’t want to miss.
    Last edited by An Original Name; 11-23-2016 at 01:26 PM.
    The most amazing thing about this recent conversation is that I've learned AON is even more of a waste of space than I thought he was previously

  12. #12
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    Toxic Wednesday vs Anzu Kurosawa & Eimi Sanada

    The following took place via Facebook Live
    Taylor holds the phone with both herself and Raquel in frame


    Taylor: Hey all, we're here in Boston. Just outside Fenway park. Personally I'm a Yankee's fan so...yeah...

    Raquel: Marlins

    Taylor: Really?

    Raquel: Uh yeah...Don Mattingly managing. Ichiro. Dee Gordon. Plus that stadium is legit.


    Taylor shrugs with a laugh

    Taylor: Why are we here again?

    Raquel: So people can hear two chicks who don't look like sports fans talk about sports?


    Taylor laughs again

    Taylor: Exactly. Hey did you catch any games when you were in Japan?

    Raquel: Good segue...

    Taylor: Thank you Ma'am

    Raquel: First off, I did. Go Toyo Carp! And also that obviously leads us to our first TRUE tag match since our return.
    Anzu Kurosawa & Eimi Sanada. First off, Kon'nichiwa.


    Taylor: Now we don't really know all that much about either of you. But you both seem like sweethearts and actually rather innocent. Especially Eimi.

    Raquel: We also know you both believe in honor and respect. And it would be dishonorable and disrespectful to go easy on two battle maidens. We will fight our hardest and we expect the same from both of you.

    Taylor: Despite how you might feel about how you did individually against each other, and Bell Connolly, you did impress us.

    Raquel: But, unfortunately we also need to send a message. One to two people who have no concept of honor or respect.

    Taylor: Eyesnsane, Gabrielle. We have unfinished business with both of you.

    Raquel: We know, and both of you know, that me and Taylor here should be holding tag belts right now. But with that said, we do want to thank you. Especially you Gabrielle.

    Taylor: Mmhmm. See here's how it is. When we decided to return to the FWA, we didn't know if anybody of notable caliber was going to show any sort of concern. We didn't know if anybody of notable caliber was going to be afraid that Toxic Wednesday was returning.

    Raquel: But you both showed us. Because if there wasn't any concern about your well-being, that night would have gone much differently.

    Taylor: So thank you for helping us see that our return has already had an impact

    Raquel: We will be seeing both of you soon.

    Taylor: Oh and Eyes, hold those belts close. We ARE taking them from you.

    The stream ends to a stream of thumbs ups, grinning faces, and hearts





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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    BOSTON, MA – November 22, 2016
    Reporter: Dave Kelly
    Chief Sports Correspondant – Boston Herald


    The eyes of not only Boston, but the entire world descend upon the TD Garden this evening as we welcome FWA to the city for their next PPV, Mile High. The stakes don't get any higher than in the Mile High Massacre match for the Undisputed Championship in which four FWAs top wrestlers go head to head in a match that is destined to shorten careers. Cyrus Truth, James “Eyesnsane” Hughes, Bell Connelly and “The Prodigy” Mike Parr will enter TD Garden this evening with one goal in mind beyond walking out of there, and that goal is walking out of the building with the FWA Undisputed Championship belt in their possession.


    Cyrus Truth arguably starts as favourite in the contest, although there is buzz around the city as to whether or not tonight could be the night that Bell Connelly proves that she is not just the most dominant female on the roster but that she is the most dominant athlete on the roster. A potentially historic night in store.


    However, speaking of historic, there are a few that are rooting for the sole holder of the FWA Tag Team Championship, James Hughes, to walk away with the gold and become the first man to hold both tag team championship belts and the Undisputed Championship simultaneously, a record that is unlikely to be broken any time soon.


    Then of course there is the outsider in the contest, Mike Parr, who whilst having built up some momentum in the past number of weeks, common opinion seems to be that he just doesn’t have what it takes to reach a level required to trouble Cyrus and Bell, backstage sources commenting that he and Eyesnsane only have to hope that Cyrus and Bell take each other out leaving one of them to pick up the victory over the other.


    Also on the card tonight is the……..









    The article from this morning’s Boston Herald flitters as it remains pinned to the wall, the breeze being generated by what can only be described as an intense bout of shadow boxing as a warm-up for the dual North American and Television Champion, The Prodigy Mike Parr. It is no longer a matter of weeks or days, it isn’t even hours at this point. We are a collection of minutes away from what is, to date, the biggest match in Prodigy’s relatively young FWA career. These moments, just as much as the high spots of cheap shots that you make inside the ring, are critical to how a match may end up. Some people shirk away, get overwhelmed with the occasion. Some people shy away into their own shell and can’t get back out again. Some hype themselves up too much and are spent of any energy before walking through the black curtain. The Prodigy’s current mood is identifiable by the next words to leave his mouth.


    “What a son of a bitch.”


    Parr is staring at the piece of paper from this morning’s Herald as if it is Cyrus Truth himself dangling the Undisputed Championship at him daring him to come and fetch it. Those words haven’t left his head since this morning when he grabbed the paper en route to the arena. Normally, he would save the words of those less talented and informed about the business for a time when he is low on toilet paper, but for some reason not on this occasion.


    “August 8th, 2015. Do you remember where you were? Do you remember who you were with or what you had for dinner? Do you know what you had for breakfast, did you go to work that day? Did you sleep in? Was your child sick or did you have a deadline for college to meet? Did your favourite sports team have a game that they won or did a much loved character from your favourite soap opera depart?”


    “What about October 31st 2015? Did you go out dressed up that evening? Sick from too much candy or drink too much beer? Make a move on somebody you shouldn’t? Woke up beside somebody and thought that you surely wouldn’t? Quiet night indoors being disturbed the those kids trick of treating walking down the street? Scare yourself half to death watching a horror film maybe?”


    For an as yet unidentified reason, Parr tilts his head back towards the pinned article having moved position in the midst of his small rant. His hands are shaking, either the adrenaline beginning to take effect or the anger that he feels building up inside with the constant reminder of those words in the Herald essentially stuck straight in his face. Either way, it seems like it could be bad news for the three other competitors that he is about to walk into a cell to battle with.


    “Every time that I think that I am getting somewhere , something happens to remind me that I am, to be quite brutal about it, too intelligent for the majority of those that I have tolerate on a daily basis. This article, this smattering of assumptions and ill informed journalism designed with the sole purpose of monetary gain, is a prime example of exactly what I refer to. This utter incompetent moron, Dave Kelly, sits behind his keyboard and he types and he writes about how I am an outsider? About how I have built up some momentum but I have to hope that Cyrus and Bell take each other out? About how even if they do manage to take each other out, only THEN do I have a chance at winning?”


    At least we have answered the earlier question about what was making Prodigy’s hands shake, those words seemed to have resonated as badly as one would imagine with the North American champion.


    “August 8th of last year was the date that I first stepped into an FWA ring and began to back up my words about the being the best wrestler in this company. I said that on my very first night. On that night I was put into a tag team match with Chris Cage? Remember Chris Cage? I’m not surprised if you don’t as I’ve just shaken off the pain in my back of carrying him to a victory that night in a tag match. In fact, carrying people became quite the running theme for my early days in this company. I was lumbered with Mac Michaud for months on end as he tried and failed to get the better of the Garcia’s and capture those tag team championships…..speaking of the Garcia’s, hope you’ve mended that battered pride of yours from last Fight Night Michael”


    “I carried Cage, I carried Michaud and I carried the weight of my own expectation. A lesser man would have crumbled and fallen down and the first setback. If you are climbing a ladder and you stumble and drop back a rung, it says more about you to take a deep breath and keep climbing. It takes belief. Climbing against the almost unavoidable wave of adversity, from everyone telling the world that I was nothing but hot air to management ignoring me and letting me wallow in the lower section of the card, pulling the curtain for people not fit to spit shine my wrestling boots….so if you are one of the many in the crowd on the last Fight Night that thought you would somehow hitch a ride to the top on my back with your dawning realisation that I am everything that I said I was, you can shove it. I’ll shake you off and wave you away as you go crashing from the top rung of this ladder to the ground below. ”







    October 31 2015 – Mile High
    “And the winner of the match by countout…..”The Malevolent” Mac Michaud”


    You would think in an arena full of thousands of people that it would be impossible to drown it all out and be left with a particular sound or thought. Prodigy is staring out at the crowd, and sure they are gesturing and probably chanting, but there really is nothing there. The winner…..of the match….Mac Michaud.


    Parr picks himself up from the mat on the outside of the ring and stares back at Mac with his hand raised in the air, soaking in the cheers from the crowd who are pleased that the cocky FWA rookie finally has to shut his mouth for once. Prodigy looks disgusted with himself, wincing in pain having just managed to recover his standing base after being rammed in the ring post but not before the 10 count.


    Maybe this just isn’t meant to be. It was all too easy so far, turning up and telling everyone that I was the greatest wrestler in the company before being challenged on it and falling at the first hurdle. I don’t need this. I’m Mike Parr, I don’t have anything to prove to anyone on this roster. I don’t have anything that I need to prove to anyone in this company. I can go home and sit on what I’ve earned and live a comfortable life, instead of being upstaged by a talentless, oversized buffoon who somehow managed to go down in the record books as a victor over me.


    Screw this. Screw CrossFire. Screw the X Division Championship. Parr takes one last look around the arena, the crowd still entirely fixated on Mac’s celebrations in the ring, before walking through the black curtain to the backstage area.









    “So October 31 last year I walked through the curtain and for all intents and purposes I not only left Mile High behind, but I was leaving FWA behind. I haven’t told anyone that before, but I was pretty much resigned to the fact that climbing another ladder with all that baggage, expectation and negativity simply wasn’t worth the journey. It wasn’t coming to me as easily as it should given my talent and my expectations on myself. So what happened? Why now, am I standing here, preparing to walk back through that same curtain and back into the Mile High arena and literally try to climb a ladder one year later? Why?”


    Parr pauses as if he is pained to even utter the next two words out of his mouth.


    “Devin Golden”


    There is an answer that nobody was expecting. The Prodigy, the man who has anointed himself champion of all of television, claiming that there is somebody rather than himself that he admires or looks up to that isn’t himself? Parr smirks as he turns away from the article momentarily and splashes water in his face. Earlier it was mentioned about how people can lose the match before they walk through the curtain, Parr needed the moment to compose himself.


    “I sat backstage and I packed away all my belongings and was heading for the door when suddenly I heard the Calgary crowd explode. I mean, if I wasn’t an idiot I would swear down that the building actually began to shake. I turned my head towards the monitor and I saw Devin Golden with the FWA World Championship in his hands, bridging himself up by holding the ropes because he was too exhausted to stand using his own two feet."

    "I soaked in that moment, let it register with me, before walking through that door........however, NOW I was walking through that door knowing that the next night, I would be back in the middle of the ring showing the world that whilst Mac may have knocked me off my feet and got lucky at Mile High, that he would be the lucky one walking out the next night if I managed to refrain from kicking his head off of his shoulders. Because if Devin Golden, the close to retirement grizzled veteran that I was watching that night could make it to the top of the company, anyone could.”



    That’s a bit more like our humble reigning North American Champion. Even in a locker room, accompanied by his own thoughts, he still has that arrogance that causes crowds across the globe to hurl abuse but love his arrogance all at the same time. Devin was an inspiration alright, not for Mike to become the next Devin Golden but for Mike to finally give the company a champion befitting of the championship belt. A champion that has the skill and talent and marketable features to drive this company to heights it has never achieved. If “The Golden One” could be representative of what you can achieve for this generation, “The Prodigy” could sure as hell capture that belt and be a champion for all generations to aspire to. The Golden One could be replicated but The Prodigy could be someone that you could not emulate.


    Parr grabs his North American Championship belt and almost gets lost in his reflection in it.


    “You can look at all your dirtsheets and your online opinion columns all you want, and most of them will tell you that I have all the momentum in the world going into this match. In my last four matches I have beaten Cyrus Truth and Bell Connelly in a tag team match, I have defended my Television Championship against Jean Luc Watkins, I have then pinned Cyrus Truth in singles action before defending my other championship against Michael Garcia on Fight Night. Your experts will point to all of this, couple it with my victory over Eyesnsane the last time that we crossed paths, and will assume that the momentum from these four or five victories must put me into contention tonight.”


    Parr chuckles, almost snorts, to himself in disbelief, before starting to shake his head but all the time not breaking his stare with his North American Championship. You know there is train of thought that states that Mike is lucky to hold this championship? That he only has it because Chris Kennedy had retirement on his mind and Thomas Jordan lost the will to compete. You can imagine what Mike thinks of that theory without hearing it from himself.


    “I whole heartedly agree that the momentum that I have build should render me fairly unstoppable walking into Mile High but I’m not referring to the last four or five matches that I’ve taken part in. They are just confirmation of everything that I told you August 8 2015 being correct in that I am the best wrestler that this company has to offer. No….I have been building momentum since last year, since I saw Devin hold that championship belt and I knew in my heart that the title of World Champion, or Undisputed Champion truly belongs to me. Four matches isn’t an unstoppable wave of momentum but one full year of chasing the same goal, knocking off anyone that dares to get in my way, THAT is momentum.”


    Mike sits down his North American championship as if it were made of glass, before proceeding to grab the other belt in his possession, the Television Championship, again almost losing himself in some sort of deep trance. This is the belt that he brought out of retirement because, after all, without television what are we? Who are wrestling for? And who better to be champion for all of television than The Prodigy?


    “People call me arrogant for proclaiming that I am the champion of all of television, some call me deluded? Am I really the deluded one? I take a championship belt and I defend it when required, beating challengers to my crown. Numbers tell you that when Mike Parr is in town or broadcast that people turn up or tune in. Eyesnsane walks around with two straps claiming that he is the tag team champion. He proclaims that he, one individual, is the sole holder of a championship that is designed to be held by two people. And I’m deluded? He searches the bingo halls in towns that we visits and bribes the first people he sees to then show up and embarrass themselves on television as he runs rings around them in the name of tag team wrestling. And I’m deluded?”

    “Then we have Bell Connelly, champion of a division in which she has no real challengers. Champion of a division that she has managed to sit atop for an incomprehensible amount of time. So now she thinks that she is a match for the true superstars, the main attractions and the money makers in this company having essentially been competing in a division of insignificance for a year. And I’m deluded?”

    “And not forgetting the man who walks around claiming to be the Undisputed Champion of this company, Cyrus Truth. I’m stood right here Cyrus, and my hand is firmly up in the air in dispute. I dispute the fact that you are the best that this company has to offer. As champion of television I am ashamed to have you on each week representing this company and as a member of the locker room I am embarrassed to have you as a representative of what we all stand for. The only thing that is Undisputed Cyrus is that I have beaten you pinned you twice and you haven’t gotten close to me once. So I repeat, and I’m deluded?”


    Parr sits his Television Championship down with the same care and attention that he afforded to his North American championship, a measure of the respect that he holds for both championship belts that he defends. Prodigy’s attention the turns once more back to that damned article, the one that paints him as an outsider in this contest. You can understand Prodigy’s torment now, he cannot begin to fathom how somebody can write something that defies what is in his head every bit of logic that you can apply to the match. It bothers him that this sort of tripe that is being served up locally and nationally is actually going to be the mindset of some of the sheep that pay in and cheer and clap when you ask them to, and boo and criticize who is portrayed as “the bad guy”.

    Mike squeezes his fists into a ball and releases them repeatedly, jogging lightly on the spot trying to ensure he is as loose as possible. The moment is fast approaching.


    “I don’t care so much about history as I do about legacy. My legacy will be walking out of this arena as a triple singles champion.”


    “My legacy will be exposing the fraud behind the “undisputed” claim Cyrus makes in holding that championship. It will be proving for the third occasion in six weeks that I can wrestler circles around Cyrus and make him so dizzy that he’ll be on his knees begging me to stand still so he concede his belt to me and present me with the belt that signifies that I am the best wrestler in this company.”


    “My legacy will be consigning Bell Connelly to conversations that will last centuries about who the greatest women’s wrestler ever was. I’m not arrogant enough to dismiss her capabilities entirely, but to be involved in the type of conversations that Bell will want to be remembered for, the type about who the greatest wrestler of all time truly is, then she would really need to be able to make a significant mark and take a significant win outside of her comfort zone that is the Women’s division that she has dominated. Unfortunately for Bell, she will have to shuttle back with her women’s championship tucked firmly between her legs because this belt and that significant moment is not happening at my expense.”


    “My legacy will be ensuring that the Undisputed Championship of the world is never in the hands of as mediocre a talent a James Hughes, the choker, the man who makes it to that level and knocks as hard as he can on the glass ceiling yet all he manages to do is give himself sore knuckles. The man who watches superstar after superstar surpass his achievements so he has to root around in the doldrums and try and grasp on to something that they can put on his headstone when he passes away. Longest reigning sole holder of the tag team championships just may be your ticket, I don’t see anyone going to take that record from you.”


    Parr swings open the locker room door, the same one 12 months ago that he almost walked out never to return again through, but instead of turning left towards the exit turns right towards the noise. As he leaves the locker room, he rips the article from the wall and screws it up into a ball and throws it in the garbage. His hands start to shake once more, this time though it has to be the adrenaline. Both his championship belts are draped over each shoulder, looking immaculate. His hair is swept immaculately. And with every passing step, the cheers of the crowd grow louder and louder.

    “The Prodigy Mike Parr, self-proclaimed best wrestler in the company since his first day in the building. The current undisputed champion of television. The undisputed North American champion. Next World Champion? Time to end the dispute."


    With that, Adema’s “Giving In” begins to blare through the speaker system to a distinct mixture of cheers and boos from the capacity crowd. Parr has one final quick jump on the spot, one final shake of his hands to loosen and shake away the tension, before matching through the black curtain to Mile High 2016 to secure his legacy.

  14. #14
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    Los Angeles, Ca.
    November 20, 2016


    Eyesnsane is seated on a bench in a hallway along with a woman known as Song, and his partner Jon Dough. They are seated just outside of an examination room being used by doctor Rebecca Weaver. Seated next to Eyesnsane is Gabrielle.

    Gabrielle: Are you sure you are okay, why do you have to see a doctor?

    Eyesnsane: I’m fine and after every match now we get checked out by the stable’s doctor. Just a precaution thing.

    Gabby: Wait a stable.

    Eyesnsane: You remember Jon Dough my partner in SCW.


    As she looks over at him he waves with a big kool aide smileon his masked face.


    Gabby: Yeah and Hi!

    Eyesnsane: Well I am in a stable called The Elders.So is that lady over there her name is Song. Andanother guy named Blasted Monk.


    The door to the exam room opens back up and out walks AlanaAllure.When they see each other, Gabbygets up and the two women hug each other.


    Eyesnsane: Oh, yeah and they let Alana be in the stable to.

    Alana: What he means to say is Alana wrestles and manages the group. How have you been?

    Gabby: Just great, and time with this guy has been…

    Alana: Up Up uo I don’t want to hear anymore thank you I’m glad you’re happy.


    The two women let go of each other.


    Alana: You’re up Eyes.

    Eyesnsane: Gets up and goes into the exam room. Closing the door behind him he then sits onthe exam table.

    Becky: So how are you feeling?

    Dr. Rebecca Weaver walks over to the table having finished looking at a file folder. She places two finger on his neck as she looks at her watch.

    Eyesnsane: I feel fine.


    She removes her fingers from his neck and writes something down on the nearby folder and then grabs a blood pressure cuff and applies it to Eyesnsane.


    Becky: Any dizziness, soreness, or stiffness to report?

    Eyesnsane: No, I feel pretty good.

    Becky: Well so far everything checks out ok. How many companies are you with now?

    Eyesnsane: Three.

    Becky: Ok so my biggest concern of course is going to be your overall work load.

    Eyesnsane: Look doc the fact is that there is a reason for everything I do. I’m not taking on morethan I can handle by any stretch of the imagination.

    Becky: Ok I get it. Just make sure that if anything happens or changes with your condition be sure to tell me right away.

    Eyesnsane: I will doc and thank you.

    Becky: It’s my job sir no thanks need, but you are very welcome. On your way, out would you ask Song to come in please?

    Eyesnsane: Sure, doc no problem.


    Eyesnsane gets up and walks toward the door. He stops before grabbing the knob and looks at Dr. Weaver. She’s writing something else on a paper in a file and as she finishes and looks toward the door their eyes lock on each other which sort of wakes up Eyesnsane.




    Becky: Feel free to call me Rebecca and I’ll see you later.


    Eyesnsane walks out of the exam room and over toward where Alana and Gabrielle are sitting.


    Alana: So basically, we are a stable and we have members signed to different companies now. There’s two that are not here.

    Gabrielle: Ok I see.

    Eyesnsane: Your turn Song. Get ready to turn and cough.


    Song gets up and walks past him and as she does she hits him on the arm.He quickly returns one as well. Song goes for one more hit but he ducks out of the way. Just before she goes into the exam room.


    Eyesnsane: You almost got me…


    Eyesnsane turns his attention back to the two seated women.


    Gabby: What did the doctor say?

    Eyesnsane: Doc says I’m just fine.

    Gabby: Great.

    Alana: So, what are you two going to be up to?

    Eyesnsane: I figured we would hang out with you guys since you won your titles tonight.

    Gabby: Oh, we should and we have start getting ready.

    Alana: Cool I’ll text you the info and we can meet there.

    Eyesnsane: Got it


    Gabrielle gets up and latches onto Eyesnsane arm as they walk down the hallway toward an exit. A bit later that evening Gabrielle and Eyesnsane both walk into the Planet Hollywood where they are set to join the rest of The Elders.


    Gabrielle: So, all of you all are in different companies?

    Eyesnsane: For the most part that’s it we span across five different companies although a couple of us are signed to SCW now.Anyway, if all goes as planned you will havemet everyone in the stable at the end of the night.

    Gabrielle: Great I can’t wait for that or the end of the night when it’s just you and me.

    Eyesnsane: Not to worry.

    Gabrielle: So how did you come to meet in the first place?

    Eyesnsane: It’s a long story, but let’s say that I grew up in Foshan, China. Blasted Monk, Song, and Orchid are like brother and sisters to me and I’ve known them since we were very young. As for Alana, she and I met under different circumstances a few years ago. These are my friends and my family in this place.

    Gabrielle: I get it and I will be on my best behavior. I promise.

    The couple joins his stablemates and they have drinks and food and enjoy a rare evening all being together and a n evening where Alana and Song have come out as winners. They move in together for a photo. Eyesnsane has his two FWA tag team titles, Alana is next to him with her tag title and Song is next to her with her tag title and next to Song is Orchid with her title. They all smile as a few pictures are snapped and everybody sits back down and resumes the fun. As the party ends a car is driving Gabrielle and Eyesnsane to the airport. She has one leg thrown over his lap and her face buried into his neck and chest. He has a good firm grip on her ass with his right hand while his left is on her leg.


    Gabrielle: Where are, we heading?

    Eyesnsane: Why spend the night in LA when we can just fly back out east to Boston now.

    Gabrielle: So, spontaneous.

    Eyesnsane: I want to get some extra time there on the ground and get in an extra work out or two.

    Gabrielle: I suppose that’s also the advantage of having a private jet at your disposal.

    Eyesnsane: That certainly does help.


    The two begin kissing each other on and off while in the back seat of the vehicle. Only stopping while they go through a security check point at the airport. After a few moments they arrive at a hangar and the large door opens and we see a black jet waiting with its door open. Gabrielle and Eyesnsane get out of the car and walk over to the jet and climb the steps up and onto the plane .Once they are seated and seat belts are fastened the jet slowly begins to roll out onto the taxi way.
    Soon the plane is high in the air with its passengers and the fasten seat belt sign goes off. The stewardess comes back to check on them and tell them they move about the cabin as the seat belt sign dings and turns off.


    Gabrielle: Could we get a blanket please?

    Stewardess: Yes.


    The steward move behind a nearby curtain and comes back with a large velour blanket that she hands Gabrielle. The stewardess heads back behind the curtain again and is out of sight. Gabrielle stands up holding the blanket in front of herself and then sits on Eyesnsane lap covering them both with the blanket.


    Eyesnsane: See you need to stop playing cause you about to start something.



    Gabrielle seems to be making an adjustment to how she is sitting on Eyesnsane’s lap.His eyes get wide and large for a moment.


    Gabrielle: I don’t want start anything I just want to be a good girl. I promised to be a good girl and I don’t want to disappoint you.

    Eyesnsane: Yes you were a very good girl tonight I was a bit surprised like I am right now.

    Gabrielle: I love to see you smile and I love to see you with Gold just like I’m going to love you as my world champion.

    Eyesnsane: You and the entire world will love it. In just a few hours we will be on the east coast and one step closer to my destiny.

    Gabrielle: Well then let’s make the most of this time we have together on this flight.

    Eyesnsane: Wait what are you doing?

    Gabrielle: You said I was a good girl, right?

    Eyesnsane: Ah… yes I did.

    Gabrielle: Can I have my treat?

    Eyesnsane: Only if you ask properly.

    Gabrielle: May I please have my treat?

    Eyesnsane: Yes you may.


    She once again moves beneath the blanket. Which causesEyesnsane’s eyes to roll in his head.Atthe same time Gabrielle lets out a primal moan as her movement slows until shefinally comes to a rest on what looks like Eyesnsane’s lap as the couple isstill under the blanket.Gabrielle leansback into Eyesnsane as he reclines the seat as far as it will go…..




    Boston , Ma.
    November 27, 2016
    0600hrs



    Gabrielle is wearing tight and yet only moderately revealing all black clothing at the gym working out with Eyesnsane wearing black Adidas sweat pants and matching t-shirt with white and black sneakers as they discuss her meeting the rest of The Elders stable and his upcoming FWA world title match.


    Gabby: Well I must say you have some interesting friends. After Killemall I’m not surprised but I must say interesting none the less.

    Eyesnsane: Yeah we are some characters to say the least it must be tough on Alana.

    Gabby: I swear if she is not busy doing something she is somewhere trying to be. But hey why aren’t you guys all in the samefed. I mean I get being in different ones but as a stable why not all in at least one place?

    Eyesnsane: Different reasons depending on who you ask. For example, Blasted Monk, Matt Spears, and Jon Dough, those guys would not come to FWA for a couple of reasons but the one they all agree with is not wanting to be in mixed action.

    Gabby: Mixed action?

    Eyesnsane: Yeah they don’t want to be anywhere where they must fight women.

    Gabby: Ah I see scared of the challenge.

    Eyesnsane: Perhaps, but I can tell you Matt was in LOW so he was somewhere where that could have happened so maybe the experience was not a good one for him. Monk on the other hand just refuses to be in any situation where he would have to hit a woman it’s just not something he is going to do. As far as Jon is concerned we have not talked about it although the only place he is signed to does not have men fight women so I just assume that’s his preference.

    Gabby: Oh, I see at least those are better reasons than not just wanting to be beaten by a girl.

    Eyesnsane: No disrespect baby but I don’t think most men want to be beaten by a woman. We know this is our chosen profession, we also know that I am a highly trained martial artist. We know that Bell is not a highly trained martial artist. I outweigh her by roughly a hundred pounds and know six was from Sunday how to knock her out with minimal effort. Now let’s just say she wins. Would you disagree with the fact that in doing so she would bury the other three men in this match? Now before you answer that let me take only one point from you, say none of the men are champions except Cyrus. Cyrus would be the guy who lost to a woman and Mike and I would be the guys who could not beat her to the win.

    Gabby: Yeah but that’s not the case though. Let’s just deal with the reality of it.

    Eyesnsane: Okay, but how deep do you want to get about it?

    Gabby: I think you know how deep I want to get.


    Gabrielle looks at him with a hungry look in her eyes just as Eyesnsane gets down on the floor to do crunches. Her gaze falls right on his crotch as she licks her lips a bit.


    Eyesnsane: Ok, come stand on my feet will you.

    Gabby: Sure.


    Gabrielle joyfully complies and steps carefully onto his feet.


    Gabby: So, are you saying Bell does not deserve a shot?

    Eyesnsane: I don’t call those kinds of shots, but if I did I may have wanted her to start out elsewhere and build to it. Don’t get me wrong. She is the longest reigning women’s champion I’ve seen in a while, but let me ask you this? Can I challenger her for the women’s title?

    Gabby: Well, no of course not.

    Eyesnsane: they why should it matter to me or any other man that she manages to just keep beating the girls? Why should being thewomen’s champion mean anything to any man in the FWA?

    Gabby: Well because it’s not just that she’s a woman…

    Eyesnsane: No, its because right now she is the best woman wrestler on the roster right now and to me that’s where you can stop making her case as far as a second shot goes. Look when it comes to women fighting men I could frankly careless. If you or any woman wants to get into a ring and ask me to treat you the same as any other opponent I will be more than happy to comply.

    Gabby: So, being one of the greatest FWA women’s champions is not reason enough for a World title shot?


    Gabrielle gets off his feet for a moment as he is in-between crunches and knells on his feet while leaning over his knees a bit resting her breasts on them is a way that places them front and center each time Eyesnsane sits up.


    Eyesnsane: If it is then why did Alana never get a title shot? She managed more champions than anyone I saw over the years. She won that title by beating Mustang and Dinorah in the same damn night. Hold on she placed second in an x-division tournament, beat Paj in a match and saved Crossfire with Stu. Was she ever found to be deserving of a world title shot? Hell, as I recall she had to endure hell just to compete against men. Yet her blonde counterpart has not done quite as much with her time and has not had nearly as tough a road as some of us may have.

    Gabby: I suppose I never looked at it quite that way.

    Eyesnsane: I get that. But then, why would you? You’ve been a three-time tag team champion beating some of the more skilled men at the time to do so. Look at Moira even for crying out loud she even won an X-division title outside of the women’s division before becoming world champion. So yeah and maybe I’m biased here but looking at her career versus yours or Moira’s yall being the two women who I saw do it the best in the FWA with my own eyes, she fails the comparison. Alter the list of women who have been two time Women’s champions and well she still brings up the rear there because at the end of the day Sara Wolf has a tag title reign in there as well. Or hey let’s push Saddle Sally cause well who’s won that title more than her.

    Gabby: Ok I see your point babe that argument is pointed.

    Eyesnsane: Fuck it being pointed. Numbers don’t lie and I’ve yet to touch on the fact that this is my first world title shot since I lost to Shannon O’Neal and had to fight tooth and nail to keep the dirt off of me from being buried behind that. So I think I’m speaking from experience there a bit.

    Gabby: I remember that match you had against her.

    Eyesnsane: Yeah so do I and I put her over just to watch her essentially go nowhere with the endeavor. While I found, myself kicked way down the ladder, shit I changed my music because of it. That whole first line of “Did you forget about me?” While they set me up to put over guys who are on milk cartons now because they are nowhere to be found anymore.

    Gabby: You know your choice in music has always been something and I believe you use it to get a point across but I think I’m more a fan of your first song. Well you do have Cyrus and Mike Parr to contend with as well.

    Eyesnsane: We should talk about them to. Frankly if Iknow anybody in this match it’s Mike “fucking” Parr. While I must admit that I might just in the slightest bit like the bravado of the CWA guy.

    Gabby: Why do you keep calling him that?


    She says with a giggle as she gets off his feet as Eyesnsane stands up and walks over to a rowing machine and gets on it.


    Eyesnsane: Because that’s what he is to me. He is a foreign invader that has besieged my company and stolen its title, for nothing more than the sake of pride. Honestly I was shocked he could hold that title against Bell but that wrong will soon be righted. CWA guy could careless about this company or its title and frankly I take it a personal insult that he was just allowed to stroll in here and take from us the way he did and without the slightest of repercussions.


    Gabby: I’ve given that a bit of thought as well. I think its monumental for the company.

    Eyesnsane: Maybe it is because the only way things stay the same is if the CWA guy wins otherwise somebody named Eyesnsane is leaving with more than one title.

    Gabby: I have no doubt in my mind that you will do just that. Nobody is hungrier and nobody in this company is more deserving than you.

    Eyesnsane: Let’s keep it real baby. No one in this match has worked their ass off more than myself just to get here and in half the roster’s mind I’m not supposed to be the one in my spot. Look at who I’m facing of the three of them the one with the most to fear is Mike Parr , because to his credit he has seen me more than the others. He has seen me win countless titles and even as he was the champion of a company we were in together I was its face and I carried him along with the rest of that company.

    Gabby: You my dear were born a legend and have sculpted yourself into an Icon.

    Eyesnsane: So now me and Mike are back at the bit of one up’s man ship we have unintendedly started. Thing is I will continue to be exactly what holds him back. Go back a few weeks hell go back a year. If you want to tell me he’s come a long way I’m here to tell you I came a longer way and have gone further. This man can run around with a retired belt and doing so suddenly wakes him up, please I mean get the fuck out of here.

    Gabby: Well it did turn into a real North American title run for him.

    Eyesnsane: Look, if I go dig up the Young lion’s title, refer to my North American title reign as I stand in front of you with both FWA tag team title belts this company is not going to recognize me and call me a Triple Crown winner. As such I’m looking at a guy in Mike Parr who came to the FWA and had been so unimpressive that he had to run around playing make believe until fighting a Chris Kennedy who pretty much mailed in his last match resulting in Mike picking a real title up.

    Gabby: Don’t shoot it that way I think you may come off as being a bit bitter.

    Eyesnsane: Facts again I rely on facts and if you goon FWA.com right now the TV title is still retired, Mike Parr is not recognized as a TV champion making him a man only half in touch with reality. The other facts as far as he is concerned is that this is not and will not be LOW for him but much like being there he has no choice but to remain in my rearview mirror. He took from me and I make him pay each time my path crosses and this instance will be no different.


    As Eyesnsane rows back and forth on the machine Gabrielle quietly keeps track of his repetitions as he performs the exercise.


    Eyesnsane: Maybe I do sound bitter, maybe I am bitter after all these years being underrated, being the punchline of people’s jokes, being made by this company to take a back fucking seat to the flavor of the month. Oh I was good but they said Joshua Diehl was better. Oh I was TV title material but just not quite as good as DA. Over the Edge was a good team but not one of the greats. There was always some kind of reason back then and yet I ask where are they now? Who will go down as an FWA legend now?

    Gabby: Wow, you brought up some names there I’ve not even thought about in a while.

    Eyesnsane: Yep significant names my opponents would have to go and look up. When I got here Matt Boudreau was the champion and stayed the world champion just shy of two years and it took a disease to beat him. So yeah I ain’t that impressed yet by Bell.

    Gabby: I know you have been long waiting and long wanting and I’m sure you just made the matter a lot clearer to me than it was before we had this talk.

    Eyesnsane: Look I’m sorry I don’t want to come off like I’m taking this out on you.

    Gabby: James, I would never feel that way. I remember a great deal of everything you mentioned just now. I’ve seen you battles with management and was GM for some of them. I’ve said it before and will say it again. You have been overlooked more so than any singular superstar this company has had.


    Gabrielle slowly walks around the machine the man is using looking at his muscles and form checking for even the slightest correction but finding none to have him make.


    Year after year I watched you from a far bleed and sweat and just plain damn fight your way to where you are now and it’s not to say people had to leave for you to be front and center because if I’m going to keep it real you did not care where you placed an elbow to get noticed. I don’t waste my breathe each and every time I look into your eyes, I see that fire that burns so bright and yet so deeply inside of you. Look at this past year, how many can say they started it as a champion and how many can boast that they will end it as champion? If ever somebody’s time is now, as cliché as that may sound baby your time is in fact now.


    She stops next to him placing her hands on her hips as she just looks at him attack his workout.


    Gabrielle: Even when I see you train you are more like an…

    Eyesnsane: What?

    Gabby: I don’t want it to come out the wrong way.

    Eyesnsane: Look after all the years and all the moments we’ve had on and off camera if you don’t know you can say anything to me, then I’m telling you right now. You can pretty much say anything you need to say.

    Gabby: You train like an animal that was bread for no other reason. You are a beast and while I’ve told you that before I mean both in and out of the bedroom.

    Eyesnsane: You would know baby. You would know.


    (On Camera)


    The camera is focused on a wooden podium with a Trump, Pence sign on it. As the shot zooms out and angles upward we see Eyesnsane wearing a Chicago Cubs hat.


    Eyesnsane: I had this whole thing laid out in my head about how this was going to go and what I was going to say .But then I thought to myself let’s do something different.


    He pulls the microphone away from the podium and walks to the left of it. Revealing him to be wearing a White home Chicago Cubs Kris Bryant number seventeen jersey with both tag team titles around his waist and blue jeans and white shoes.


    Eyesnsane: Well here we go it come to this. Mile High in a match for the World title where we will be locked in a cage, it is very soon to be my FWA World championship! Let me run it down to you all in brief. This is not going to be the oh happy day, second chance was a charm. This is not going to be another successful title defense. Nor is this going to be the reign of my second longest rival running.


    He turns around and heads in the opposite direction.


    Eyesnsane: I’m not a person who had to use a pretend title to get somewhere in this company. You see I’ve always had the balls, the courage, and the perseverance to not only know that I can make it but that I would not only be here but that I had come to concur and rescue the FWA World title. Some are impressed by you picking up that North American title. Don’t count me as one of them. Besides I’ve been here and done that and you’ve yet to even be tested. Don’t worry though because I’m here to explain what that pain is you feel in your gut. Okay listen now that pain is knowing that you are about to be exposed and exploited in this match. So enjoy what you got because this is going to be one of those times when you get put in your place.


    He stops and just turns to face the camera.


    Eyesnsane: Then there’s that old second chance magic right. That little engine that could with all the other fairy tales and lollipops. The mythic world where David, (He makes quote signs with his hands) always beats the giant.What a nightmare it must have appeared to be the last time when you lost. Ah but here you are just with more scary monsters trying to stop you. I don’t believe in monsters and fairy tales but I fully believe in doing whatever I must do to keep you out of my way from claiming my title.


    He smiles with a sadistic look on his face. Eyesnsane slowly makes his way back to the podium.


    Eyesnsane and then we have the invader from foreign lands come to plunder what he can at the expense of the meek. You’ve not encountered any one or thing like me and you never will again. I understand what I’m doing here. The object is to win. That’s exactly what you are going to be front and center to see is me taking the FWA World title from that CWA guy.

    Eyesnsane reaches the podium and places an elbow on it while standing to the side.

    Eyesnsane: Oh now there’s no doubt that my opponents are going to sing you their praises and some will make idle threats or even broken promises. This one will claim to be the best and then that one will blah blah. They will pass their judgments on each other and myself. They will make their predictions. But it will all be for nothing. They will be empty and hollow words that fall plainly on the ear. Just as they are certain to speak of what was and was not earned, deserved, and worked for.


    Eyesnsane pushes over the podium onto its side and moves around in front of it and sits on it facing the camera.


    Eyesnsane: Far as I’m concerned none of you have damn thing to say to me about what I’ve earned. Or about what I deserve, or what I have earned. The fact of the matter is this none of you would even know the first thing about it. For years before any of you walked through those doors I was here paying my dues and giving everything I had to this company. I made the choices and I made the sacrifices and through and through I have stood the test of time. The three of you are so self-absorbed that none of you have a clue about the animal you all are going to find yourself locked in a cage with.

    No because it’s easier to run me down and take your little cheap shots and all because you don’t want to face the truth of what’s coming. You all don’t want to face this moment of reckoning. This pivotal turning point in the history of the FWA. When this year started, I told you all this was going to be my year. That this year I was taking any and everything I wanted.Now just look at what I’ve done. Why not this year? First there was the North American title.



    His left leg starts shaking up and down rapidly.


    Eyesnsane: I was not supposed to get that shot. Oh, and they said there was no way I was going to beat Cryos, and what happened? I beat him. They said I was not supposed to beat Stevenson and I beat him. Where are they now?Then I become tag team champions with that guy, I turn around and beat him to become the first man in the history of the FWA to be tag team champions alone while taking on all challengers. So, I say all that to say I’m walking out of Boston with the FWA World title. I refuse to give up or give in. I refuse to stop coming at all of you until I’ve won this thing.

    From Creed to Drazin to Gabrielle to Chris it’s been wait till next year, maybe next year. Oh, just hang in there and you’ll make it or you’re getting close. Well let me tell you all my time waiting is finished. Mile High 2016 Boston is going to be the where and when Eyesnsane became the FWA World Champion. I want that title and I’m taking it.I will use any and everything I can to win this match and I will complete my destiny. Understand you all are locked in a cage with a highly trained martial artist and I can and I will use all my skills and training to beat you all. I make no distinctions or exceptions in there, you are all my enemies to be subdued equally.



    Eyesnsane stands up and kicks the podium back and away from him.


    Eyesnsane: I have one goal and one goal only. I have no remorse. I could care less about what I must do to any of you. I’m going to do whatever it takes and I’ll enjoy every minute of it. I’ve sacrificed for this title shot.I’ve worked my ass off for this title. I’ve sweat and bled for this and I did not come this far to lose.I didn’t come this far to witness somebody else’s night. No, tonight is my night and this year is my year, and the FWA title is my title!!


    (Off Camera)


    Eyesnsane is standing next to Gabrielle as they have just finished watching the playback of the footage. While standing next to them is Alana Allure.

    Eyesnsane: What did you guys think of that?

    Gabrielle: I thought it was greatness.

    Alana: Go with your gut.

    Eyesnsane: Alright we’re good then.

    Alana: I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.

    Gabrielle and Eyesnsane walk off the set of where that was just shot as the scene fades out to black.

    FWA Tag Team Champion x5
    FWA North American Champion
    FWA Women's Champion x2



  15. #15
    Striving for a B+ in life
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    Re: Mile High 2016 Promo Thread

    They said I could be anything. When I said I wanted to be king, they said no.

    They said I could be anything. When I said I wanted to be God, they said no.

    They said I could be anything. When I said I wanted to be an astronaut, they said no.

    They said I could be anything. When I said I wanted to be president, they said no.

    They said I could be anything. When I said I wanted to be World Champion, they said no.

    They said I could be anything. When I said I wanted to be me, they said no.





    Shannon O'Neal's mind reverts back decades ago, to the mid-1990s and the midst of her eighth-grade year. A short, skinny blonde-haired girl with her hair tied in a bun and tom boy-esque clothes on, Shannon looks the part of a mild, shy, soft-spoken pre-teenager of 12 years old finding her footing in Lafayette (Indiana) Middle School.

    Shannon looks to her left — and sees two boys a few inches taller than she. She glances to her right and sees one boy standing at the front of the well-lit classroom with a new color tube television mounted high up on the wall above the green chalkboard.

    The boy is reciting information from notes, stuttering through his speech about "more pencils" and "a better lunch." Finally, after 60 grueling seconds, the boy stopped with the teacher's thankful words of encouragement.



    "Thank you, Josh. Alright, class, we have one more speech left for the class president election. Shannon? You ready?"


    The 12-year-old version of the future FWA female star takes a step up to the front of the class and brings in one deep breath. She is nervous standing before her peers. In fact, she senses they lack respect for her. She cannot tell why, but she hears audible whispers and a few scattered chuckles and teasing comments from her classmates, the ones about to vote for one of the four candidates who wanted to be president.


    "Thank you for ... um ... lettin' me talk about why I want to be the eighth-grade class president. Um..."


    Not a great start, and the laughter and rude comments only grow louder. Mrs. Stephanie, the teacher, shushes the noise before giving Shannon complete authority yet again. Another deep breath, and Shannon looks down at her notes with the speech hand-scribbled in penmanship only she can read.


    "First is recess stuff. I want'ta try to get the school to get us better balls and jump rope for recess. Also better food in the cafeteria. Maybe pizza every Friday. And last, I want to ... um ... ask Mrs. Stephanie to switch around our desks once a month so we don't get bored sittin' in the same spot. I think that will ... um ... help us pay attention better during class and help our grades.

    Thanks again for lettin' me talk about what I will do as class president."


    Shannon went for the more realistic platform, not like Jimmy who promised less homework, absolutely no pop quizzes, and more movies during class. Stupid Jimmy. But Shannon's smile, which she wore broadly on her face, vanished.


    "I don't care what she says! She's a girl and I ain't votin' for her!"



    That was Patrick, one of the boys in the class. He is a bully, but everyone tries to be his friend. And when he said this, everyone else nodded, laughed, or followed with a "Yeah!" Even the three Shannon was running against chimed in their uniform despise of a girl possibly winning.


    "Patrick. Stop!"



    "No! My daddy says girls shouldn't be doin' important stuff like this. And the only reason girls win things is because the get it easy. I don't like that! He said Shannon was going to win because Shannon is a girl and everyone would feel bad for her! Well, I won't! Shannon shouldn't be president! And no one should vote for her just because she's a girl and they feel bad for her!"


    Finally, Mrs. Stephanie fussed at Patrick enough to shut him up with after-school detension.

    But the damage was done. Shannon, nearly in tears, pouted her way to her seat and sat silently, brewing at the things Patrick said. She felt the eyes of everyone in the class on her, either laughing at her or feeling bad for her. Mostly it was laughter. A few of her friends felt bad for her. Not many. Just a few. But she disliked that reaction nearly as much as the snide whispers and chuckling.

    Yet, even as she absolutely hated Patrick and every one of her classmates, she knew there was some truth to his outburst. She knew ... there was something to the idea that she received some sort of sympathy because she was a girl.







    That was 20-something years ago.

    It's now Nov. 8, 2016. The late-late hours of Nov. 8, 2016.

    Shannon O'Neal, now a fully grown women in her early to mid 30s, sits silently on a worn-down, grey, ugly couch in a random hotel room off in the middle of nowhere-ville. Mile High is still weeks away. The last Fight Night — when she and "Wildcard" Jason Randall lost to KAIZEN and Cyrus Truth — was just four days ago.

    Now it's Tuesday evening, about 11 p.m. eastern time, and Shannon's eyes are glued to the horror being displayed on CNN right now.

    Donald Trump took Florida. He's leading Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Ohio.

    Hillary Clinton is going to lose the election.

    Shannon O'Neal — thinking back bits and pieces to the eighth-grade election that she lost — cannot help but feel terrible for Hillary right now. She has a lump in her stomach, a mixture of anger and concern, and it's all because of the mindset of the American people.



    "They'd rather elect a monster than a woman,"
    she says out loud to no one, since there is no one in the hotel room.


    Bell Connelly, the reigning FWA Women's Champion, has been texting Shannon all night. At first, Bell was joking that Trump would be demolished. Then she was joking that there isn't cause for concern. That quickly changed to Bell "freaking out," and then Bell going dark and nearly radio silent.

    Shannon never responded. She was worried from the get-go, from her own first-hand experiences. Shannon O'Neal got two votes in her classroom election. Two votes out of 23. One was her own. Another was her best friend, Julie. She finished last. She never expected to win, but she expected to do better than last.

    All of this boils up to the surface tonight, as this tragedy happens in the country. Shannon cannot believe it's 20 years later and the same thing is happening, except on a nationwide scale.

    And everything she wants to say right now — everything she is thinking — and the only person who keeps popping into her head is KAIZEN, the man she will face one on one at Mile High in three weeks.



    "If KAIZEN was in front of me right now ... I'd break his fuckin' jaw off."


    Again, to no one in particular. But it helps.


    "KAIZEN ... if you were here ... I would tell you ...

    that you aren't the WORST person in the world."



    Somehow, Shannon restrained herself from calling KAIZEN the worst person in the world. She found the strength and control to at least give her new rival THAT much.


    "But you ... brought so much anger out of me.

    When you didn't treat Bell equally, you ... you reminded me of Patrick. What he said. That girls get advantages because they are girls. That people vote for them or let them off easy because they are weaker, dumber, slower. Whatever you want to say. Your actions reminded me that ... Patrick was RIGHT. He was right about that stuff. And it pissed me off then, and it pisses me off now because ... it hasn't fuckin' changed."



    Shannon is just blurting out a rant, with no one around. Not even a camera filming it. Or so she thinks. But that's besides the point.


    "Women fight two injustices in the world. Two forms of inequality. We fight inequality to be given the same opportunities as men. That's the biggest one. That's why I didn't win my election. 'Cause the idea of a 'gal winnin' was just so ... wrong, to nearly everyone in that room. 'Gals can't be president! That's the thinkin'. And today, look. Women still can't be president.

    Damn."



    Shannon shakes her head at the television, unable to comprehend what she's witnessing. She thought Hillary would win, despite the rampant sexism in the world. Shannon was wrong, and underestimated the misogyny in this election.


    "The other inequality is ... equal treatment to men. We don't need no head starts. We don't need no bonuses. No extra edge or anythin' just 'cause we're women. You think we're weak or frail or whatever. And a lot of people do. They think the only reason Hillary would win is 'cause she's a woman. They think the only reason I was so good at sports growin' up is 'cause the boys would ... let me score. That's a real thought. That's a real mentality. People really do that. They really let women have free passes, easy rises, and success simply 'cause they think that makes it more fair.

    And then everythin' is tainted. That's the reality of it."



    Shannon thinks back to her interview on Fight Night with Katie Lynn Goldsmith. How much it irritated Shannon, who left before it properly finished and exited on bad terms with the FWA interviewer. Shannon's blood boils thinking about Katie's accusations and insinuations during the interview.


    "Katie Goldsmith wants ya' and everyone else to think that us women can't compete against the likes of ya', Cyrus Truth, Mike Parr, Michael Garcia, Eyesnsane, and others. Katie wants everyone to think we need help to compete against y'all. She wants everyone to think my crusade is gonna' get one of the women hurt, seriously hurt, like Eimi almost was when you gave her two piledrivers.

    Katie thinks I am the bad person in this. She thinks I have a dangerous mindset and am spreadin' a dangerous message. She thinks there is a clear difference between the athletic talents of men and women."



    Shannon pauses, interlocking her fingers and balling her fists against one another. Her elbows are supported by her knees, and her shoulders are hunched inward. She's a bit chilly, but she's mostly just rattled and in a seated-up position.



    "I think all that is a bunch of bullshit."



    Shannon continues the same posture, blocking out the low-volume political analysis coming from CNN's all-night coverage of the election.


    "I don't think Jillian, Moira, and Gabrielle were anomalies. I don't think myself, Bell, Eimi, and Anzu are a step below y'all. I don't think any of that is true. And I don't think I need ya' to go easy on me for me to beat ya'. KAIZEN, I ain't gonna' say ya' not a good wrestler. 'Cause that'd be as big a lie as the ones Katie was sayin'. I ain't gonna take anythin' away from ya'. There's a reason ya' are the longest-reignin' X Champion ever. There's a reason ya' beat the hell out'a Devin Golden and won a World Heavyweight Championship. There's a reason ya' won the Quest for the Best tournament, a tournament I was in and wasn't good enough at that time to win.

    The reason is that ya' are a damn good wrestler. One of the best in the world. And ya' might be the next FWA World Champion.

    But I CAN beat ya'. I know I can. And I can beat ya' when ya' are givin' me 100 percent. When ya' are tryin' to hit that piledriver. When ya' think of me the SAME way ya' think of Cyrus Truth or Chris Kennedy or any guy on the roster.

    I can beat ya' at Mile High. That's why I want this match bad. To prove to ya' and everyone else that the women don't need sympathy. We don't need pity. We don't need ya' to go easy on us.

    We just need opportunities to prove it."



    Shannon leans over, grabs the remote nearby, and clicks off the television. She knows it's over, and Wisconsin and Michigan haven't even been declared yet. Shannon can't watch anymore of this. It makes her sick.


    "The one thing I regret about that eighth-grade election: Not punchin' Parker right in the mouth for sayin' what he said and then tellin' the class AGAIN why I should be president.

    I was young. I succumbed to it. I wasn't the fighter I am today. I had to learn things. I had to learn that I COULD stand up against that stuff. I was just startin' to back then. Just startin' to not recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Just startin' to demand that I play sports with the boys at recess. Just startin' to force people to take notice.

    I forced my way INTO the election 'cause of it.

    'Cause I learned the only way to get respect is to punch the person in the mouth, stand over them, and tell them what ya' stand for. I did that three years ago to Gabrielle when no one thought I could.

    And I'ma do it at Mile High against ya', KAIZEN.

    Sometimes ya' gotta take losses to figure out how to win. I learned that from the eighth-grade election. I took a loss then. I take losses every day. And I do it without needin' someone to let me down easy or weak shit like that.

    I'm a self-sufficient, motivated fighter who wants the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. That scares the FWA, from the fans to the management to the male wrestlers on the roster.

    And when I face ya', KAIZEN, I want'ta look in ya's eyes and see that ya' are givin' me everythin' ya' got. I want'ta feel those kicks, those punches, and those suplexes. I want'ta know what it's like to be Chris Kennedy durin' the summer, or Cyrus Truth at Trial By Fire next month.

    And when I win, I want'ta know that Mile High was TRULY one of my highest of highs."


    "The Golden One" Devin Golden

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    4x FWA Tag Team Champion
    Final record: 94-58-10


    Shannon O'Neal
    2x FWA Women's Champion
    1x FWA World Champion


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