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Thread: "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy

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    "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy



    'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life.
    Try to make ends meet,
    You're a slave to money then you die.
    I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down.
    You know the one that takes you to the places,
    Where all the veins meet yeah,

    No change, I can't change
    I can't change, I can't change,
    But I'm here in my mold.
    I am here in my mold.
    But I'm a million different people
    From one day to the next.
    I can't change my mold.
    No, no, no, no, no







    Name: Chris Kennedy

    Nicknames and Aliases:
    "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy, The Shark From Jaws, La Muerte Blanca, The Son Of No One.


    Height: 6'3

    Weight: 238 pounds

    Age: 30

    Base pic: Taylor Kitsch

    Face/heel/tweener: FACE

    Theme Song History

    Current Theme - The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony (2013-Current)

    Original FWA Theme (2010-2013) THE DEFTONES- MY OWN SUMMER.




    -4 time WORLD CHAMPION (First ever FWA Undisputed champion, 3x FWA Champion (Fight Night) 1x World Heavyweight Champion (Crossfire)

    Undefeated at Back in Business (7-0)

    Grand Slam Champion

    Triple Crown Champion


    - 1x North American Champion

    - 1x X-Champion (As La Muerte Blanca, Kennedy's masked alter ego)

    - 2x Tag Team Champion (1x with Jack Severino, 1x with "The Infection" Brian Carter)

    -Carnal Contendership winner (2013)

    -Golden Opportunity Winner (2011)

    -2010 FWA Rookie Of The Year

    -2012 Wrestler Of The Year

    -2013 Wrestler Of The Year

    -2012 Feud Of The Year (With Wolf)


    - 2012 Match OF The Year (With Wolf, Payback 2012)

    -2013 Match Of The Year (With Wolf, 8th Annual Anniversary Show)


    -2016 Promo Of The Year


    -Main evented 2 consecutive Back in Business ppvs (BIB VII and BIB VIII) leaving each event FWA Champion


    -Retired Bullseye Johnson

    -Defeated FWA Champion (Rocky Creed) in debut match





    Style of wrestling: 60% Technical 40 % power

    Perfected Moves
    -Running STO
    -German Suplex
    -Step up Enziguri
    -Guillotine Choke
    -European Uppercut
    -Dragon Sleeper
    -Indian Deathlock
    -Fujiwara armbar
    -Suicide Dive

    -Inverted Headlock Backbreaker
    -Snap Scoop Powerslam
    -Rope hung DDT (ala Randy Orton)
    -Missile Dropkick
    -Standard Dropkick
    -Standing Moonsault
    -Single Legged Crab

    -Lateral keylock
    -Gator roll into an Anaconda Choke
    -Flying Scissor Heel Hook
    -Rolling Armbar
    -Double Arm DDT
    -Head scissors takedown
    -Northern lights suplex
    -Anaconda vice
    -Spinning Wheel Kick
    -Reverse Chinlock
    -Wrenching Full Nelson


    FINISHERS
    The Bittersweet Chin Symphony (Superkick)
    The Kennedy Curse (Crippler Crossface)

    -



    The Syndicate (Leader) [CORE MEMBERS: Chris Kennedy, Mac Michaud, PAJ] [ADDITIONAL MEMBERS: Abdualla Assad, Anton Adolphus, Daniella Kennedy, Christian Quinn, La Muerte Blanca and Guapo]

    The Great Siege [CORE MEMBERS: Chris Kennedy, Gabrielle, Andrew Johnson and Dan Ward] [ADDITONAL MEMBERS: Zaire Wyoming, Darnell Porter, Saddle Sally]
    *Chris Kennedy had no affiliation with The Crossfire Great Siege or The Unholy Siege*

    The Kennedy Family (Leader) Chris Kennedy, Gabrielle Kennedy, Kerry Kennedy, Daniella Kennedy, Veronique)

    The Kennedy/Carter Administration (Chris Kennedy and Brian Carter)

    MANAGERS:
    Joey Bones (AKA Joey Ortiz, managed Kennedy from 2010-2012 before being repackaged as Joey Ortiz when he began competing)
    Gabrielle Kennedy (Most notably managed Kennedy between BIB VII and RWB 2012 and occasional times after that)
    Guapo (When Kennedy was La Muerte Blanca)
    Mac Michaud and PAJ (accompanied Kennedy to his matches during The Syndicate run)



    1. Chris Kennedy VS WOLF (Three Stages Of Hell, Payback 2012)

    2. Chris Kennedy VS WOLF II (8th Annual Anniversary Show)

    3. Chris Kennedy VS Duke Drazin II

    4. Chris Kennedy VS Ryan Hall (Red, White and Bruised 2013)

    5. Chris Kennedy VS Gabrielle (Red, White and Bruised 2015)

    6. Chris Kennedy VS MC Fromage
    (Back in Business VIII)

    7. Chris Kennedy VS KAIZEN II (Back in Business

    8. Chris Kennedy VS Ashley O'Ryan (Mile High 2013)

    9. Chris Kennedy VS Eyensane (Red, White And Bruised 2011)

    10.
    Chris Kennedy VS Wolf VS Jack Severino

    11. Chris Kennedy VS Phillip A. Jackson III

    12. Chris Kennedy VS Stu St.Clair (Back In Business X)

    13. Chris Kennedy and Brian Carter (The Kennedy/Carter Administration) VS Aut Pax Aut Bellum

    14. Chris Kennedy VS Phillip A. Jackson II (Fight Night 4/29/2011)

    15. Chris Kennedy vs Bullseye Johnson (Fight Night 12/24/2010)

    16. Chris Kennedy VS Gabrielle II (FWA 10th Annual Anniversary Show)

    17. Chris Kennedy VS Drew Stevenson

    18. Chris Kennedy VS Eyensane III (FWA Game Over 2015)

    19. Chris Kennedy VS Rocky Creed (11/26/10)

    20. Chris Kennedy VS Duke Drazin I

    21. Golden Opportunity Match Chris Kennedy VS Alexx VS
    James ‘Eyesane’ Hughes VS Anthony vs. The Rebel Badass vs. "Charon" Josh Diehl
    (Back In Business VI)

    22. Chris Kennedy VS Phillip A. Jackson I (Fight Night 12/03/2010)

    23. Chris Kennedy VS Eyensane II (FWA Line In The Sand 2015)

    24. Chris Kennedy VS Christian Quinn (Mile High 2015)

    25. Chris Kennedy VS Drew Jolson (Fight Night 6/5/15)

    26. Chris Kennedy, Aut Pax Aut Bellum & and Zaire Wyoming VS Carmine ‘Grim’ Reaper & Cameron Cross & Charon and ‘The Golden One’ Devin Golden (2011 FWA SUPERSHOW)

    27. Chris Kennedy & Brian Carter [The Kennedy/Carter Administration] VS Thomas Princeton & Jethro Warren (Red, White and Bruised 2014)

    28.
    Chris Kennedy & Brian Carter [The Kennedy/Carter Administration] VS The Pride (9th Annual FWA Anniversary Show)

    29.

    30.
    Chris Kennedy & Brian Carter [The Kennedy/Carter Administration] VS Aut Pax Aut Bellum II (Aftershock 2014)





    _______________
    Precious and fragile things
    Need special handling.
    My God what have we done to you?
    We always tried to share
    The tenderest of care.
    Now look what we have put you through.

    Things get damaged.
    Things get broken.
    I thought we'd manage,
    But words left unspoken
    Left us so brittle
    There was so little left to give
    Angels with silver wings
    Shouldn't know suffering
    I wish I could take the pain for you.
    If God has a master plan
    That only he understands,
    I hope it's your eyes he's seeing through.

    Things get damaged
    Things get broken
    I thought we'd manage
    But words left unspoken
    Left us so brittle
    There was so little left to give
    I pray you learn to trust
    Have faith in both of us
    And keep room in your hearts for two

    CHRIS KENNEDY

    FRAGILE THINGS
    Frick Park. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Friday, October 16th. 5:32pm. Chris Kennedy and Bell Connelly lay in the grass, underneath a white mulberry tree. Kennedy rests his back against the tree while Bell lays with her head in his lap. A cool gust of autumn's wind rolls through the dandelions dance and they seem to dance along with the breeze. Chris runs his fingers through Bell's hair, which feels like cool silk between his finger tips. The sun reflects off of each vibrantly blond strand, it doesn't even look real to him, like fine doll hair. Every thing about Bell is comparable a doll, from her almost impossibly perfect hair, to her cream white, porcelain skin, to her saucer like blue eyes that make her look like an anime character come to life. As Kennedy strokes her hair ever so softly, she purrs in her sleep and smiles a bit as she briefly slips in and out of slumber. He runs his hand down her bare shoulder and wonders how she isn't freezing, wearing a pink tank top and black short shorts in 53 degree weather. Kennedy then realizes that she's been through far worse over the past week than some slightly cold weather. He leans over and grabs his ice cold Heineken out of the cooler. He takes a big swig, downing a third of the bottle immediately, letting out a refreshed gasp as he sets it down beside him. As he looks back down at Bell, he remembers how lucky he is to have her back, safe and sound. A smile crosses his face before the FWA Champion peers up from her, and makes eye contact with us, the audience. His face is serious but not angry and not sad. Kennedy is a stoic picture of satisfied retribution.

    Chris Kennedy: Vengeance has a monster of an appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled. I could spend my entire life chasing after some sort of revenge, and I'd die miserable. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sick and tired of this. The soap opera, cliff-hanger bullshit. I'm over it, man. All I've ever wanted out of life, was happiness for myself and for my family. But ever since I've started this war with Executive Excellence all those months back, my life has been a series of ups and downs. I've gained the love of this beautiful young woman over here, and I became a FOUR TIME FWA CHAMPION. But in that same turn, my daughter was traumatized as her family tore apart with her in the middle of it, and when I took from them the one thing that mattered the most to them, the FWA Championship, they decided they were going to take something equally important away from me. They were wise not to harm a single hair on her head, because they are well aware of the unholy fury that I would unleash on them if they were. Bell is safe and back where she belongs, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to turn a blind eye to this. I'm going to put an end to Executive Excellence once and for all, and I'm going to do it at Mile High. But first, I've got to bring Executive Excellence to it's knees by shattering it's BACKBONE. I am, of course, referring to their great leader and black tie enthusiast, Thomas Princeton.

    Thomas Princeton, the biggest mistake you ever made wasn't involving my daughter in my war with Gabrielle, and it wasn't orchestrating the abduction of my girlfriend. No, those are all mistakes that stem from the biggest of them all: UNDERESTIMATING ME. You thought you could break me by toying with the things that I love. You never considered that by making me angry, that I'd be more dangerous than ever. So now, you are faced with the biggest problem you've ever had to deal with and you don't even realize it because you think you are unbreakable, even after all I've put you through. Before Chris Kennedy, Executive Excellence had an FWA Champion, a Danny Toner, and a sense of comradery. Now what do you have? You are hanging on to a NAME, a name that no longer means anything. "Executive Excellence." Your boys have not been anything close to "Excellent", not since before Back in Business. This GIFT that I am giving you, this FWA title shot, is your LAST chance to salvage your name brand value. You've got the opportunity to seize the day and maybe a small part of you actually thinks this is another entry in my Open Challenge. It's not. This is me getting what I want, REVENGE, and this is me being smart enough to know that the only way you'll book yourself in the ring with me is if I put this title on the line. So be it. You have your chance, Princeton. You are a mule being led to the slaughter, following a golden carrot dangling from a stick. This won't be a match, Princeton. This will be a bonafide massacre. You are marching to your own demise, the corporate lemming that you are.

    You won't beat me, Thomas. It's not because I've already beaten you, more times than I can count, it's not because of "ring-rust" and it's not because you aren't as good as you once were, because the fact of the matter is, you were never very good to begin with. Every shot you've ever had at the FWA Championship, you've blown. When you finally managed to grab the World Heavyweight Championship on Crossfire, you had lost the title before the rest of the world had a chance to blink. If you couldn't beat me 2 years ago, when you had chance after chance, what makes you think you can defeat me now, as I'm still in my prime and you are in the worst shape of your life. The answer is, that you CAN'T. But you shouldn't feel bad about that, Thomas. Don't beat yourself up over it, leave that to me, because as I've already stated, this isn't a match, this isn't even a fight. This will be a blood bath, a public display of violence so graphic that they may not even be able to air it on television. I'm good with that.

    Kennedy takes another swig of his beer, still caressing Bell with his free hand.

    Chris Kennedy: I tremble with excitement when I think of what I'm going to do to you, Thomas. That smug face of yours, I wonder how smug it would look if I flattened it completely. Your imitation Christian Dior suit, the beige one with the horrible stitching on the in-seem, imagine how it would look covered in your own blood, crimson patches stained across it. That jaw of yours that's constantly moving up and down, let's see how it flaps when there is a wire keeping it shut so it can heal. When you are eating your food from a straw because your chemically whitened teeth are somewhere on the floor of The Pittsburgh Civic Arena, I want you to remember me, and this match. Don't think of our FIRST match, where I beat you in under 4 minutes, and don't think of the FWA title chances I gave you ears ago, when you couldn't beat me for the title, even with the help of your pal, MC Fromage. No, those are all irrelevant. I want you to FOREVER remember this date, 10-16-15, and if you don't live to remember it, then it's because it's the date that will be imprinted onto your tombstone.

    I want nothing more than to take these feelings of hatred and rage, and unleash them back upon the person who caused it all, and y'know, for as much as I've cursed Gabrielle's name, maybe I've given my ex-wife too much credit in all of this, because really, she is too stupid to be the brains behind any reputable organization. No, Gabrielle isn't TRULY the leader of Executive Excellence, she only thinks she is. Thomas Princeton, you let Gabrielle believe that she was running things when in all actuality you've been pulling the strings all along, Mr. General Manager. The things you've gotten away with, Princeton, I'm not going to let stand.

    Kennedy pulls the camouflaged blanket from nearby him and covers Bell with it, before standing up and putting some distance behind them while he lights up a cigarette. The cancer survivor takes a drag from the Marlboro, almost as if he is daring cancer to come at him again. As Bell rests, Kennedy is several yards away, pacing calmly as he collects his thoughts, his eyes filled with passion while his face remains expressionless.

    Chris Kennedy: It was never my intention for Bell to be dragged into all of this, though I should have seen it coming. Everywhere I go, trouble seems to follow, but faster. I walk away from trouble, trouble speed walks. I run, trouble sprints. I've got more enemies than I can count, and they all hate me for the same thing, the sheer fact that I am who I am and they are not. Gabrielle is so jealous of me, that she committed a felony to get inside my head. Kidnapping, That'll get you 10 to 15, but Gabrielle thinks she is invincible because Princeton, you NEED her to think that, because she's completely useless when she understands her true worth. You two should have never taken her, you thought that she'd be an easy target because she's "fragile" but you were wrong. She's not the fragile one, both of you are, Princeton and Gabby, and you'll break easier than you realize and sooner than you think. And when you do, I'll see to it that you're taken out with the rest of the trash.

    Do you know what the most fragile part about YOU is, little Tommy Princeton? Your EGO. Fight Night has gone strait into the shitter since you've become the General Manager, and it's because your fragile little ego refuses to let you see this shit show for what it truly is. It's a vanity project for you and people who are willing to kiss your ass. Your ego needs to be protected and fed, and the entire Fight Night brand is suffering because of it. Well all of that stops TONIGHT, Princeton. All the shit you've thrown my way, it's been festering, drying out and getting hard. Now all that shit you threw at me and the FWA fans, they are shit rocks and I'm throwing them right back atcha'. I'm done with this. I'm BETTER than this, I'm better than you, better than Gabrielle, better than all of it. This is a waste of time, and after I've put you down where you belong, there will be no doubt in anyones minds that Executive Excellence is as good as dead. Surround yourself with D-Level thugs like the Garcias, it wont matter. You saw who I brought out? I came out fierce, with Wolf and Ghost Dog. Wolf is easilly my greatest rival of all time, but there is something about Executive Excellence so irritating that the guy came out of retirement just to help me kick their asses. I think that says enough.

    I am the FWA Champion for a reason. Each week, I remind everyone why I am one of the GREATEST of all time. No one is taking this Championship belt away from me, especially Thomas Princeton. Princeton doesn't know it yet, but he's about be part of television history. What I do to him tonight, is going to be something that stays with him for the rest of his life, because JUSTICE for Bell needs to be served. You are free to give it your best shot, Princeton, but full disclosure: I'm 100 times better than you will ever be and your "best shot" isn't worth anything to me. You are the lowest form of scum I've ever seen in the FWA, and it's time I did some cleaning. Best of luck, Princeton. But again, full disclosure, you'll need more than luck, boy. You need a miracle.

    Kennedy heads back over to Bell, the camera fading to black as he kneels down and wakes up his sleeping beauty. We fade to black and our scene ends.



    CHRIS KENNEDY

    SEASONS CHANGE

    Chris Kennedy digs his fingers into the cold dirt and pulls out about six inches of roots from the ground. He throws the roots behind his shoulder as sweat beads down his forehead. He reaches his hands into the seed bag next to him and pulls out about 6 sunflower seeds, lining them up in a row with about two inches of space. He covers the tiny holes with dirt and pats the dirt down while sitting Indian style. The camera zooms out and we see that Chris Kennedy is sitting in a vast sunflower feild, the orange sky above him setting the sun behind the clouds. Kennedy reaches over for his water bottle and takes a swig. He then turns to the camera.

    Chris Kennedy: The winds of change are in motion in the FWA. There is a whole new day on the horizon. Can't you see it? The colors on the leaves are changing, as GREEN, the color of envy and greed, is on the way out, replaced by red, the color of power, and brown, the color of humility and modesty. If this is symbolic to you at all, then you are a smart cookie, because right now, in the FWA, the seasons are changing. Executive Excellence is falling apart and we have front row tickets to the shit show. Thomas Princeton's merry band of misfits, abusing their power every chance they get. They were once a unity, standing together in perfect harmony. Now they are nothing more than a table with one of it's legs kicked out from under it, they can only carry their weight on one side, try to divide the weight evenly among all of them and they collapse. At this point, this table is now on it's last leg, and keeps toppling over because of it.

    My opponent for Mile High is Christian Quinn, a man I know well. Once upon a time, Christian Quinn used to carry my luggage as part of The Syndicate. Now, years later, Christian Quinn IS that last leg of the table, doing all that he can to hold it up on his own. While Thomas Princeton only cares about what will drive up the ratings, and Gabrielle only cares about how to get the attention back on her, Christian Quinn is the only one doing all that he can to keep Executive Excellence relevant. I've got enough respect for Christian Quinn to identify that he made a mistake in joining Executive Excellence, a mistake he regrets dearly. He saw an opportunity and he took it. I'd have done the same thing if I was just a green as grass curtain jerker still wet behind the ears.

    If you heard all of what I just said, and took away only the fact that I respected him, then you may not like what I am going to say next. As good as Christian Quinn is, there is no way in hell that he could ever defeat me. Just because I have the MINIMUM amount of respect for the kid, doesn't mean I am going to go easy on him. This is an FWA CHAMPIONSHIP match, and even though he doesn't deserve to be in this match, I am going to defend my title as if it was Wolf, Stu St.Clair, Devin Golden or Ryan Rondo. In laymans terms, I'm going "HAM" on Christian Quinn.

    Kennedy picks up handful of dirt from the ground and watches it slowly slip between his fingers.

    Chris Kennedy: When I found you, Christian Quinn, you were but a dry seed. I was the one that planted you in the FWA, in The Syndicate. People forget that it was there that you found your start. I took that seed, Christian, and I nurtured it into a strong, powerful tree. Now, as life always proves, we've gone in a circle. It was with these hands, that the seed that would become Christian Quinn was planted, and it's with these hands, that Christian Quinn will be chopped down. Even you've got to appreciate that, Christian. That raw poetic justice that just seems like it was always destiny.

    Christian Quinn has come a long way since being a little seed, but he still covers himself in dirt, by associating with Executive Excellence. Oh, but you are different, right? You are the solitary beacon of shining light? Bullshit. Christian Quinn, I know good and damn well who you are. If it wasn't for Danny Toner going completely BUST, then you wouldn't even need those lame ass Garcia boys, and you'd still be that asshole in the pin striped suits counting his money. Do you think there is some kinship between you and I, because we were in The Syndicate together? Or maybe, maybe it's because that where you are right now with Executive Excellence, I was down that same road with The Great Siege, both stables led by Gabrielle and in both stables, you and I are the bad guys gone good. Is that it?. Yeah, the only problem I have with that comparison, is that I'm not as easily fooled as everyone else is, Christian Quinn, and I can see right through you and all your bullshit. You may legitimately regret joining Executive Excellence, that much I believe to be true, but our reasons for standing against our respective groups are completely different.

    I left The Great Siege because I knew in my heart that everything they were doing was completely wrong. I understood that I couldn't be a part of it. You? You aren't taking a moral high road, now are you? No, they aren't living up to their end of the bargain, promising you all you ever wanted if you'd just work your ass off for them, and that's why you've found yourself at a crossroads with them. Isn't it funny how people can take two separate scenarios and always find a way to compare them to each other? You and I are nothing alike, Christian Quinn. I may respect you, somewhat, but I don't like you. Don't get me wrong, I WANT to like you, but I can't, because I don't trust you.

    Last week, I went to war with Thomas Princeton and Mac Michaud in the SAME week, proving to everyone just how much I care about the FWA champtionship. I'm not about to drop the belt to some green nosed punk in a $25 Wal Mart suit just because Gabrielle was too "unmotivated" to hold onto her number one contender spot. I will gladly defend this championship against all contenders, but that doesn't mean that I have to keep my lips sealed when someone isn't worthy. Yeah, I'll give you a title shot, but I'll also let you know why you don't deserve it.

    Kennedy stands up and brushes the dirt off of his jeans

    Chris Kennedy: It's been a very tiring couple of months for me. I want to put this thing with Executive Excellence behind me once and for all, and it seems that I've got to run through them all one by one, and that means I've got to defeat Christian Quinn. Tonight, I will beat Christian Quinn, Bell will defeat Gabby, and Ghost Dog will defeat The Garcia Brothers. They will all be DONE. Once I've defeated Quinn, I'll be able to put this mess with Executive Excellence behind me and move on to more exciting things. I think I've already proven at each and every turn that I am ABOVE them Executive Excelence. I keep saying over and over again that I'm above them but the only way to let it sink in is to put them in the ground BELOW, dead and buried. Where they belong.

    Chris Kennedy walks off into the sunflower field, as the sun slowly goes down.

    THE END





    Last edited by Jiggy; 08-20-2017 at 09:56 PM.

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    Re: "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy




    [1]

    “I’ve still got enough to my name--and I do promise on everything that I do have left to it--that Phillip A. Jackson is a dead man. As sure as the sun shines in the summer, I will destroy him, inside and out.” he says into the phone as he absently pats the set of brass knuckles sitting on the passenger seat beside him. He let's out a heavy sigh and his breath paints the frigid Colorado air a white plume. He stopped paying attention to the cold ages ago, the moment that fire sparked inside him. That hungry, festering fire.

    [2]

    He fires up his Sony PlayStation 4 and finds himself at the vibrant blue login screen, where two different user profiles are present, 'KennedyCurse' and 'Slayed-By-The-BELL.' The profile pic for KennedyCurse is an FWA 2K11 Chris Kennedy avatar, vintage 2010 'rookie of the year' Chris Kennedy, fresh-faced and arrogant, smiling his ass off, as if he could foresee the future ahead of him, and the spoils that came with it. The profile picture for 'Slayed-By-The-BELL' is a picture of Elsa from Frozen, but wearing thick, horn-rimmed glasses, gaged black earrings and a blue & white flannel shirt. It was one in an ever-changing theme of 'Hipster Disney Princess' avatars that Bell Connelly kept in rotation. Last week it was a tatted-up Alice, whose ink made Wonderland seem less like a magical fairyland and more like a bad acid trip. Next week, it will be bookworm Belle of Beauty and The Beast fame, which is, of course, quite apropos. 'KennedyCurse" however, has had the same avatar since 2010, roughly 5 'FWA2K's' and two 'FWA Fight Night Vs Crossfires' ago. He hadn't even realized this until just now. He never had much time for video games, though he always wished he did. Oh, how he longed for the freedom to crumble up a half ounce of some that 'Grandaddy Perp" he used to get in his early 20's, and just kick back on the couch, light up and jump into his video games, saving the planet from aliens, dragons and drug cartels, or perhaps plowing through hapless civilians in Grand Theft Auto while blaring Fetty Wap at full blast. Surely he would allow himself to indulge in this harmless escapism, if only he had the time, right?

    That's a load of bullshit. He's been injured for a few months now, he's had all the time in the world. Chris Kennedy has had nothing but time on his hands, but just because the hours are idle, doesn't mean that they are any less valuable. And so, even confined to living room couch, with an ankle not fit for walking or even standing, the man has, nevertheless, had absolutely no time for video games, no time for social media, no time to enjoy the pleasures that life has to offer. It's been about a week and a half since he's made love to Bell, or as she would ever-so-charmingly refer to it as, "Deep dicking her." Even then he didn't bring his A-game. He blamed it on the ankle giving bothering him, and she was understanding, but the truth his, his ankle has been feeling great, for a couple weeks now. Surely, psychiatrists everywhere would have a field day deciphering the connection between Kennedy losing the FWA Championship and his recent inability to maintain an erection. Christ, man, the guy was a fucking jack horse in the sack several months ago, the night he won the FWA championship, he turned Bell inside out. No sex, no booze, no video games or movies, just one, singular, reoccurring thought, a consoling reminder he tells himself. "He's dead." Thinks to himself, for the 5th time today. He is a man obsessed, and he's found a new use for his spiffy PlayStation 4, and with this he manages to feed his obsession, dropping fresh coal into that hungry, festering fire within. Smoke billows out from his nose as he leans back in his large Italian leather sofa, across from his 62‘ inch Ultra-HD television. After taking another drag from his cigarette, he flicks the ash into a silver ashtray which serves as a graveyard for all the Marlboro Menthols that have come and gone. After logging into the KennedyCurse profile, he scrolls over to the "TV and Video" section of the PS4's dashboard interface, scrolling past Netflix, Hulu+, YouTube, Crackle and Amazon Prime, scrolling all the way down to the last option: The FWA Network. He takes another drag of his cigarette and as the spinning white circle center his television screen loads the app. He enters the keyword "PAJ" in the search bar and sets the playback to 'shuffle.'




    Chris Kennedy is transfixed on the television, his eyes wide with trepidation. All those by-the-numbers horror movies, where the ghost is constantly reliving the moment of his death, over and over in a tragic loop, it's what Kennedy imagined this felt like. He knows what is coming next, and he knows that he can't do anything to stop it, it's in the past. "Turn it off." He thinks to himself, erratic eyes darting from his hands, to the television, to the floor, and back to the television. "No, you piece of shit." he rebuttals. "Watch this. Watch it over and over again until you've completely committed it to memory.



    [FONT=Tahoma]



    Kennedy throws the PlayStation controller across the room in a fit of rage. He stands up and flips his coffee table over and he screams, loudly. Kennedy paces the room a bit and yells the word 'FUCK' so aggressively you'd think his stomach was shooting a fireball up his chest and through his throat. Kennedy suddenly cocks back and punches a hole clear through the wall. Pictures frames fall to the ground and shatter. Kennedy falls to his knees and sits there among the broken glass. He lifts his bloody fist up and stares at it, his eyes focus on the crimson stream running down his knuckles and down his wrists. He takes a deep breath before closing his eyes and imagining what it would be like to get his hands around the scrawny neck of one Phillip A. Jackson. Just one time is all he'd need, he thinks to himself.

    Suddenly, the video ends and the next random FWA clip in the shuffle queue plays. FWA Aces High 2013. The Carnal Contendership match. Chris Kennedy inches closer to the TV, as his eyes glazed over and his mouth agape. Kennedy immediately loses himself in the chaos of 30+ men and women ripping each other apart for a chance to main event FWA Back in Business. Kennedy perks up when he hears his theme song play. He watches himself, three years younger, run down to the ring and immediately run roughshod over everyone. One by one, he eliminates several FWA superstars, until Kennedy is the last man standing. Ring announcer Kurt Harrington pronounces: Your winner, and the NEW #1 contender to the Undisputed FWA Championship, CHRIIIIIIIS KENNEDYYYYYYY!!!!!

    Kennedy's eyes grow wide with excitement as he watches his previous Carnal Contendership win,like he just took a shot of adrenaline to the heart and an explosion went off inside his head. Kennedy looks down and for the first time in weeks, Chris Kennedy has an erection.

    [3]

    Chris Kennedy exits his Boulder, Colorado vacation home. A far cry from where his roots where planted in Tampa, Fl. Kennedy had spent his entire recovery holed up in his cabin retreat, isolated from everyone in his life that wasn't Bell Connelly or Carmella Kennedy. This was the first time in a while he'd left the house, and he trudges through the snow with purpose, an intensity in his eyes that could melt all the snow within a 9 foot radius of wherever Kennedy stepped.

    Kennedy enters his Black 2016 Jeep Renegade, slamming the door shut behind him. In the ignition goes the key and the radio kicks on, playing Survivor by Destiny's Child. Kennedy is quick to shut it off. He puts his foot on the gas and peels off, pulling out his cellphone and making a call. The phone rings and rings but the person on the other line doesn't answer it, which makes sense given the time of night where she's already on the plane to Ireland. She's likely asleep. That's okay, Kennedy will have an easier time saying what he needs to say via voicemail.


    Voicemail: Hiiiiiiiii you've reached Bell Connelly. Bah'ju? Ju'Already know'dat. I mean, why would you call me phone if you didn't know who I am? Right? So anyway, Go ahead and leave your message after thaaaaah....
    [phone beeps]

    Chris Kennedy: Bell, it's me. Hey, listen. I've been thinking and I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm done listening to the goddamn doctors. I don't care if they think I'm ready or not, if I need to wait another 3-6 weeks, if they think I'm going to hurt myself again. I feel fine, as fine as I could be. So yeah, I'm in my car now, and I'm headed to the airport to catch the next flight to Dublin. Needless to say, you'll be seeing me a lot sooner than you had planned. I know this isn't what you wanted, you wanted me to get better, to bring myself to a 100% and all that. But baby, I don't need to be at 100% to prove that I can beat every last one of those son's of bitches. I'm not going to sit back and miss my chance to take back what's mine on the biggest stage of them all. I'm going to Back in Business, one way or another, hurt ankle an'all, and I hope you understand why this is important to me. I hope you understand that I have finish what PAJ started.

    I don't have to win the Carnal Contendership match. I was the FWA champion, and I lost my title on a Golden Opportunity cash-in. I'm entitled to a FWA Championship Rematch, and I haven't had it yet. So why then, would I enter the Golden Opportunity match? Because I want that son of a bitch PAJ one-on-one. I ask for a rematch at Back in Business, and whoever wins the Carnal Contendership match gets thrown in and now we have a triple-threat or some shit. I don't want that, I want to destroy Phillip A. Jackson on the grandest stage of them all and I want him to know that I went through 20 others son's of bitches to do it. The "Last Star in the Sky" Ryan Rondo, James "Eyesnsane" Hughes, KAIZEN, Danny Toner, Michael and Malik Garcia, Mike Parr, Mac Michaud, Thomas Jordan, Dave Sullivan, Taylor Toxic, The Technician, "Baby" Jean-Luc Watkins, Jason Randall, Christian Quinn. There is talent in that bunch, but NONE OF THEM, that's right, NONE, not even Rondo, are ON MY LEVEL and you know that, Bell. You know it well as I know it, I'm better than each and every one of them, individually. But collectively? I'm not ignorant to the fact that collectively, I've got my work cut out for me. In each and every one of those men and women there is a fire burning, a desire to become the next FWA Champion. It's a fire that burns within them with a passion so intense, smoke rolls off their skin. I am going to be the man that extinguishes every one of those flames. I won't see their faces either, all I'll see is PAJ's beady little eyes. All of their faces will feel the fury intended for him. Everyone that I hurt in that Carnal Contendership match has Phillip A. Jackson to thank for that.

    Kennedy rolls his window down and leans his elbow out before lighting a cigarette.

    Chris Kennedy: The biggest threat in this match, besides myself, is obviously Rondo. Ryan Rondo is a man who I have always respected but ultimately never felt was in my league. As of around 2015 or so, I've somewhat changed my tune in that regard and I identify him as a major challenge in this thing. Rondo just beat James Hughes to become the North American Champion and he has all the momentum of a supernova going into this match. He'll be tough to beat, especially if he enters later, but I HAVE to believe that I am better than him, on every level. I have to believe that if it's both of us against the ropes, that I will be the one to get the upper hand, that I'll be the one still standing in that squared circle while his back is to the mat looking up at the house lights. Ryan Rondo and I have so much in common, I almost feel as if I'm fighting myself out there. We are roughly the same age, we are have similar in-ring styles, we are both from Tampa, Florida and even went to high school together, yet we've never had so much as a single one-on-one match. I don't need to have wrestled him first hand to know that I have what it takes to beat him, I've seen every single one of his matches and I've studied his in-ring psychology, his "play style" if you will. Ryan Rondo doesn't care about winning the FWA Championship, because Ryan Rondo is a half-measure. He fights who he wants to fight, titles be damned. He wasn't chasing the World Heavyweight Championship, he was chasing Devin Golden. He wasn't chasing the North American Championship, he was chasing Eyensane. Ryan Rondo will give a hell of a resistance but he won't give it all because he has no dog in this fight, the FWA Championship and the World Heavyweight Championship, they are meaningless to him at this point and it shows in just about every single promo he cuts, even when those belts are on the line. PAJ and Stu are the world champions around these parts and Rondo could beat both of them, but he'd rather not. He'd rather take it easy. Instead of blazing a path to greatness, he'd rather blaze something else.

    Then there is James "Eyensane" Hughes, the man Ryan Rondo recently beat to become The North American Champion. See, James and I know each other real well and if I DO know him as well as I just claimed, he's fuming right now, having lost his North American Championship. Unlike Ryan Rondo, who I have the utmost respect for, James Hughes a man who I've got absolutely no respect for whatsoever, and it's not because of our personal rivalry, it's because he's a man who, at this stage in his career, should be a multiple time World Champion. He's not, because he has his head so far up is own ass that he's gone noseblind to the smell of his own shit. He actually believes himself when he claims to be the greatest professional alive. James "Eyensane" Hughes has the biggest oppoertunity of his career ahead of him, the chance to head to Back in Business and become a world champion. He will choke, because if James Hughes is ANYTHING, he's consistent. He's the man who talks a big game and then shits his pants when the big moment comes. I still remember the time he started a war with me, simply because I was his kids favorite wrestler. News flash, Hughes, you'd be your favorite wrestler if you didn't suck so damn much. That's right, Bell, even his kid thinks that James Hughes is a lame, boring, self absorbed "do-nothing-bitch" that will never make it out of the mid-card. I've beaten Eyensane once, twice, THREE TIMES. Four times if you include the Golden Opportunity match where it was down to him and I. FIVE times if you count the Carnal Contendership match that I won in 2013, where I tossed James Hughes over the top rope, just like I'll do this year.

    I can't overlook the FWA's resident flavor of the month, KAIZEN. I've been impressed with KAIZEN up until this point but at Winter Wasteland, Stu St. Clair proved to the world that KAIZEN can not hang with the upper echelon of FWA talent. KAIZEN put up a hell of a fight, but in the end, he handed his World Heavyweight Championship to Stu St.Clair. KAIZEN is one of those unique FWA superstars that comes around every so often, he marches to the beat of his own drum and is unlike anyone who has ever step foot in an FWA ring. Is he every bit as good as he says he is? Almost. Is he ANY bit as good as the Devin Goldens of the world would have you believe? No. Being "fresh", or "unique" doesn't make you THE BEST. As far as I'm concerned, KAIZEN is 2016's answer to MC Fromage. I'd love him to prove me wrong, but he won't. At Carnal Contendership, he'll have the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I'll have the opportunity to prove that he's just a flash in the pan. Credit where it's due, KAIZEN broke Devin Golden's X-Title record and shot up to the main event scene. There are many out there saying he is the FUTURE of the FWA. If that's so, then so be it, but that's a DISTANT future and we don't live in that future, we live in the NOW, and for NOW, Chris Kennedy is still on the top of the food chain. A broken ankle doesn't change that, and now that I'm returning the pridelands, I expect hyenas like KAIZEN to return to the shadowlands they crawled out for, as everything the light touches is STILL MY KINGDOM.

    Kennedy looks in rearview mirror, looking himself in the eyes as he continues the recording.

    Chris Kennedy: This is the part where I run down the rest, where I pretend that "The Mongoloid" Mac Michaud and "The Regurgitation" Dave Sullivan pose a threat to me, as if it's opposite day. Where I say that Malik and Michael Garcia are credible threats, and I say it with a strait face. Is this the part where I act like Dany Toner is in any way relevant or that a man who's nickname is "Baby" instils some type of fear into me. Fuck just about ALL of that. Full disclosure, I don't even know who Jason Randall is, and as far as "The Technician" Bryan Pohler is concerned, he should have taken the show off to spend Easter with his family or some shit, because he's wasting his goddamned time in this match.

    When I think of guys like Mac Michaud, I feel thankful for my sucess. Every single opportunity I've ever been given, I've capitalized. This is a man who's been given all of the SAME opportunities and he's squandered each and every one. It would be comical if it wasn't so depressing. Yet he is still "A monster", he still "stands alone", he still spouts the same tired cliches after spending half a decade in the FWA. Once upon a time, I considered Mac Michaud a friend, someone who be my right hand man, my ride or die. When we were together in The Syndicate, him and PAJ did a real good job carrying my bags and doing my laundry, but that's all he's ever really been good for, being a bitch boy. If you want me to run down the list of things I LIKE or RESPECT about Mac Michaud, I'm sorry to let you down, Bell. I know that you like to say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Well, for four and half, almost five, years I've been saying nothing but nice things about Mac Michaud, and where has that gotten him? Mac is like that half-retarded little boy who has enabling parents telling him that he's great at everything he does. Well, I'm that enabling parent, and as of now, I'm washing my hands of the worthless scab. I don't need him, haven't in a long while, and now he's just in my way. Maybe he has ALWAYS been in my way, and I've never really needed to do anything about it, until now.

    The Technician, he isn't someone I'm tremendously impressed with. Just another James Raine or Jason Gryphon, a guy who believes in his own hype WAY too early and thinks the FWA owes him something. I know he's a big deal in nGw, but THIS ISN'T some developmental show, this is the F-FUCKING-W-A, where WARRIORS compete, not students. He isn't ready for this, and if Vincent Takaab Blackbird signed the kid up for this, well then he led him straight to the slaughter. Then we have "Baby" Jean-Luc Watkins, another nGw turd that should have been flushed during the pre-show. What has he done to deserve a spot in match that determines the #1 contendership to the FWA Championship? He is greener than baby shit and his promos stink just the same. Here's a little something from "The Personal Diary of Christopher J. Kennedy". Dear Diary, today, I entered the ring with 20-something other sum'bitches and I whooped every last one of their asses. There was a lanky little bitch named "Babydick" Jean-Luc who stood bewildered when I cocked back the Bittersweet Chin Symphony and knocked his bitch ass over the top rope. Later that day, I celebrated with Bell Connelly by banging it out behind a Smoothie King while waiting for our Strawberry Banana protein blasts. The end." You know, that was fun. Maybe I'll keep a personal diary too. God knows people will actually read it.

    Mike Parr, I like him well enough. I respect him and I really feel for him, knowing he had the tag team titles within his reach and Mac Michaud botched everything. I legitimately feel he'd be one half of the tag team champions had he had a different partner. I feel even WORSE for him knowing that he has yet another big opportunity, and he won't be going anywhere with it because I'm in this thing, and I'm in it to win it. Mike Parr can bring everything he has and it will NEVER be enough, because no matter how much he THINKS he wants this, he doesn't want it nearly as much as I do, and I am going break him down, piece by piece, until he is nothing more than a lifeless sack of potatoes for me to toss over the top of the ropes. It's nothing personal, Parr. Like I said, I like you enough. Just sucks that your skull is a stepping stone.
    Kennedy pauses for a bit, before opening up his glove compartment and pulling out a flask, with the initials CK etched into the front. He takes a long sip of it and scrunches his face a bit, the alcohol burning on the way down. Speaking of guys that I'm actually fond of, but still I've gotta run roughshod over, it would appear that little Tommy Jordan is in this match. You are hearing it right here and right now, the Chris Kennedy seal of approval: Thomas Jordan is the truth. He reminds me of a younger Chris Kennedy, the kid has the heart of a lion and a never-say-die attitude. He almost beat Dave Sullivan, and if I'm being honest here, I wish that he would have. If you haven't yet noticed a theme here, then you haven't realized that the respect I have for Thomas Jordan means NOTHING. He is another stepping stone, just like Mike Parr. I'm only walking on one you because I'm going places, and you are sitting still, stuck in the dirt. See, Jordan, It's hard for me to understand exactly how his mind operates. If he can't even beat Dave Sullivan, how can you ever think to win an entire Carnal Contender match populated with greater man than him? Short answer? He can't. Don't even get me started on Dave Sullivan. Dave Sullivan is a man who came to the FWA as one of Gabrielle's henchmen, then faded into obscurity, opening SMASH each week and freebasing on low grade crystal meth or heroin, whatever the hell it was that week. Then he left, and ripped of the La Muerte Blanca gimmick. When the whole "Who is The Redemption" mystery was going on, I didn't give a shit who it was, I just knew I wasn't getting a check for it and it pissed me off. Not for nothing though, Dave Sullivan's return was a major success story. Another man hoping for a similar comeback is Danny Toner. When I see him, remind me to ask him how Winter Wasteland worked. One would think that Danny Toner and I would be on the same side, given our mutual disdain for Thomas Princeton and PAJ. Make no mistakes, I hate Thomas Princeton every bit as much as Danny Toner CLAIMS he does. Whether he's telling the truth or not regarding his feelings on Princeton, his feelings are irrelevant. Toner has been historically inconsistent, ranging between mediocre to subpar, occasionally decent, so whether or not we are on the same page is irrelevant, when A) he's the last guy I'd want on my page to begin with and B) this is an OVER THE TOP BATTLE ROYAL. I don't need friends in a Carnal Contendership match, just because we both play on the same side of the sandbox doesn't mean I won't throw you out of it if you try to take my toys from me. The FWA Champion IS my favorite toy, and for that reason alone, Danny Toner isn't winning this match.

    Taylor Toxic, she's another inclusion that has me scratching my head. I mean, are we really living in a world where Taylor Toxic vs Stu St. Clair or Taylor Toxic vs PAJ is an actual possibility? If so, I don't want to live on this planet anymore. Of course, I'm being overdramatic here because we all know that Taylor Toxic's chances in this match are about as slim as a icecubes chance in a jacuzzi. She isn't winning this, and in fact, she'll more than likely be eliminated before I even enter the match, so she's a non-issue. All that cheeky shit I said a bit ago, about her main eventing Back in Business against Stu or PAJ, we all know that would never in a million come to fruition. Another hopeful entering this match is Jason Randall. As I pointed out earlier, I've got no clue who this asshole is. Another nGw call up, propelled by Monster energy drinks and the blind, ignorant hope that "someday, maybe someday, I'll debut on the main roster and make a name for myself immediately. Maybe I don't actually have to pay my dues like Chris Kennedy, Stu St.Clair, Devin Golden and Wolf did, I'll just shoot straight to the top!" Another gutless piece of shit to share this mentality is Michael Garcia. He thinks he is a main eventer, he thinks his name stands level to Chris Kennedy because once upon a time, he beat Chris Kennedy with help from James Eyensane Hughes and brings it up in just about every promo he cuts. It's as if beating me was the single most significant thing to happen to his career. Maybe that's because it was. It's funny to me, Bell, that everyone on the FWA can agree on one thing if nothing else; Michael Garcia is an irritating piece of shit. And not like a "He's such an effective bad guy on TV" kind of irritating, the one where the villain is someone you love to hate. People just legitimately don't like him, and I can see why. He's an attention starved little bitch, he belongs in the Women's Division and so does his little sister Malik. Michael and Malik Garcia are both entering the Carnal Contendership and both of them will go right over the top ropes as swiftly as they came in. The FWA Tag Team Championship is in a sad state of affairs. To think, we've gone from teams like Sunrise Sunset, Sinful Sensuality, Vodka and Venom, The Kennedy/Carter Administration, to...The Garcia Brothers. Yeah, we are living in dark times indeed. Cherish those Tag Team titles boys, even if you don't deserve them. Now that I'm in this match, neither of you have a chance in hell at getting your hands on the FWA Championship. But hell, let's face it, they didn't really have much of chance before I was in the match anyway, did they now?


    Kennedy takes a final drag of his cigarette before tossing it out the window and veering onto the interstate, the ice cold wind blowing through his long locks of brown hair.

    ChrisKennedy: I promise you Bell, on everything that I have and everything I hold dear, I'm winning Carnal Contendership. All of my opponents shortcomings that I've just listed, they are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my list of over one hundred reasons WHY I say so with complete conviction. It's not because I've already won a Carnal Contendership, It's not because I've already main evented Back in Business more than once, it's not because I think I'm inherently better than anyone else in that match. I'm winning that match and I'm going to Back in Business, because I want it more than ANYONE in this match, anyone on this roster, anyone in this BUSINESS. FWA, CWA, LOW....It DOESN'T MATTER. There isn't a single greatest wrestler in this entire business than Chris Kennedy, and when I want something, and I TAKE IT. Right now? There are two things I want. The first thing, obvi, is the FWA Championship. That's mine, it's in the bag. The next thing I want? It goes hand in hand with the first thing. I want to crush Phillip A. Jackson with the fury of a thousand comets falling from the sky, each fist I drop on him is a tiny meteorite leaving comparable sized indents in that smug fucking face of his.

    Kennedy says nothing for a few moments, simply holding the phone to his face, looking at the cars whiz by his out the open window. After a short while, he continues.

    “I’ve still got enough to my name--and I do promise on everything that I do have left to it--that Phillip A. Jackson is a dead man. As sure as the sun shines in the summer, I will destroy him, inside and out.” he says into the phone as he absently pats the set of brass knuckles sitting on the passenger seat beside him. He let's out a heavy sigh and his breath paints the frigid Colorado air a white plume. He stopped paying attention to the cold ages ago, the moment that fire sparked inside him. That hungry, festering fire.
    Last edited by Jiggy; 08-15-2017 at 11:45 PM.

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    Re: "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy



    Chris Kennedy sits alone in the center of his locker room, a sweaty mess. His hair is soaking wet, as is his bare chest. At his feet are two 60 pound dumbbells, and a gym bag. The gym bag is open and we can see an assortment of items. An iPhone. His wrestling gear. A black leather wallet. A bottle of prescription painkillers for the injuries received at hands of Phillip A. Jackson, injuries that Kennedy hasn't fully recovered from. It's this same medication that is currently spinning the wheels inside Chris Kennedy's brain, as several different thoughts begin to run through his head. Thoughts of delusion, regret, and angst. Chris Kennedy's biggest enemy is, and always has been, his ego. That sense of pride has cost him as much as it's gained him and as Kennedy reflects on his loss at Carnal Contendership, he has but one man to blame. Not Cyrus Truth, not Ryan Rondo, not KAIZEN, Phillip A. Jackson or even Thomas Princeton. The blame falls on Kennedy. Only Kennedy.

    He lifts the dumbbells and begins his next set. At this moment, Chris Kennedy's medication kicks in and he begins to suffer one of it's many, many side effects. Hallucinations. On Kennedy's left shoulder, with a golden halo over his head, a white jumpsuit and golden Air Jordans, is 3 time World Heavyweight Champion, Devin Golden. On Kennedy's right shoulder, sporting a red business suit and devil horns, is the first ever FWA Grandslam champion, WOLF.

    Wolf: YOU LET CARNAL CONTENDERSHIP SLIP THROUGH YOUR FINGERS. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, BOY?

    Devin Golden: Don't even listen to him. You did a fantastic job.

    Chris Kennedy pumps away at the weights. One...Two...One...Two....One...Two. Wolf walks up to Kennedy's ear and yells loudly, with little regard to Kennedy's ear drums.

    Wolf: FUCK THAT. DID YOU WIN? NO? THEN YOU DIDN'T DO A GOOD JOB, DID YOU? YOU HEAR THEM CHANTING? "CYRUS! CYRUS! CYRUS!" THAT'S BECAUSE, IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW MUCH SUCCESS YOU'VE HAD THE PAST, THE FANS, AND MANAGEMENT, THEY WILL ALWAYS FAVOR THE FLAVOR OF THE MONTH OVER THE HARD WORKING VETERAN. IT'S WHY STU WENT 5 YEARS WITHOUT CATCHING A BREAK, BUT GUYS LIKE DANNY TONER, RANDY RAMON AND DREW STEVENSON, FUCKING MIDCARDERS, COME IN HERE AND GET TOP SPOTS AFTER DOING FUCKING NOTHING. YOU NEED TO RIP THEIR THROATS OPEN AND SHIT RIGHT DOWN THEIR FUCKING NECKS!

    Devin Golden: That's completely asinine. The FWA awards talent. Cyrus Truth won Carnal Contendership because he put in a better performance, if only slightly. Wolf is a goddamned lunatic.

    Chris Kennedy: I'm not sore about Cyrus winning Carnal Contendership. Cyrus isn't the enemy.

    Devin Golden: No, he's not.

    Wolf: THE FuCK HE'S NOT! GROW A PAIR! YOU KNOW IT HURT, KENNEDY. YOU KNOW IT F*CKING ATE YOU ALIVE. YOUR FRAGILE EGO WON'T ALLOW YOU TO ADMIT IT. JUST QUIT. THE FWA DOESN'T DESERVE YOU IF IT DOESN'T APPRECIATE WHAT YOU DO. THE TIME YOU PUT IN. THE BLOOD YOU SHED. THEY DON'T CARE. THE FANS MAY CHANT YOUR NAME, BUT THE POWERS THAT BE, IF THEY ARE TIRED OF SEEING YOU WIN, THEY'LL MAKE SURE YOU STOP WINNING. ASK STU. ASK G-RICH. ASK ME. THEY'LL WANT TO MAKE A NEW STAR, THEY DO EVERY YEAR.


    Chris Kennedy: Heh. Maybe...maybe there is something to that.

    Devin Golden: Don't listen to this guy. Look, Chris. You see the FWA as "your yard." and it is. You are one of the greatest FWA superstars of all time. That's a fact. So when Cyrus won Carnal Contendership, beating the entire FWA roster, that was hard for you, I get that. But you said it yourself, Cyrus isn't the enemy. Carnal Contendership was just one match, and guess what? 20something other guys lost that SAME match. This isn't the end of the world.

    Chris Kennedy: BUT THIS WAS MY SHOT AT PAJ!

    Wolf: There he is...

    Wolf smiles as Kennedy's face turns aggressive. Kennedy continues to curl the dumbbells, his eyes heavy with intensity.

    Chris Kennedy: I WAS SUPPOSED TO FACE PAJ AT BACK IN BUSINESS. IT WAS PRACTICALLY WRITTEN IN THE STARS. NOW WHAT!?! WHAT THE F*CK DO I HAVE LEFT!?!

    A janitor outside of the door looks through the open crack and sees Kennedy speaking to himself. He raises an eyebrow in confusion, as he can't see the angel nor the devil. He just shakes his head and continues sweeping the hallway.

    Devin Golden: Chris, you have EVERYTHING. You think that Carnal Contendership is your only shot at PAJ? Listen to how ridiculous that sounds. You want to listen to this guy going on and on about management favoring "flavors of the week" and all that nonsense, but you can't see that he's just making excuses, and if you co-sign with that mentality, you are no better. YOU control your destiny. You know that. You are better than this.

    Chris Kennedy: So tell me, tell me why I am feeling this HUNGER inside of me, tell me why I can't suppress it.


    Devin Golden: Because it's been a few months since you've won an FWA match. You are competitive for nature. You are itching for victory. It's because you are a CHAMPION. What you have to do, is go out there and kick some ass. KAIZEN is your opponent tonight. You need to go out there and show the world who CHRIS KENNEDY really is and what he can really do.

    Wolf: That's the first thing you've said that's made a bit of sense.

    Kennedy finishes his set and places his weights down. He stands up and walks away from the chair, towards the nearest mirror. He looks himself in the eyes for a moment. Behind him, tiny Wolf pulls out a tiny steel chair out of nowhere and belts tiny Devin Golden over the back of the head before they both poof into nothingness, disappearing into thin air. Kennedy places his forehead against the mirror and lets out a heavy sigh.

    Chris Kennedy: Deep within the pit of my stomach, this hunger grows. This insatiable craving for revenge...it's leaving me weakened. See, I've been thinking of a way to satisfy that hunger, aside from the obvious solution which would be me getting my hands on Phillip A. Jackson. The only alternative that I can seem to come up with in the meantime, is that I need to put my fist through a lot of people's faces. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself for losing at Carnal Contendership. My inner subconscious projecting itself as Devin Golden presented a very sold point. It's been a few months since I've won a match in an FWA ring, and maybe I'm jonesing for a fix. At the end of the day, I am a warrior, through and through, I am battleborn and I was put on this planet to demonstrate my dominance over every competitor that comes my way. I am an instrument of destruction and I can't blame people for forgetting that. I'd almost forgotten that myself. For the past two years, I've been smiling for the crowd, high fiving the fans, putting the 'bad guys' in their places. I'm still in this for the fans, yeah. But now, now I'm in this for me. I need this, I need to win EVERY match that comes my way because goddamn it, we are on the road to BACK IN BUSINESS and I still have my eyes set on PAJ and the FWA Championship. Everything I do, every move I make from now until Back in Business, is the most important move I'll make. The first stop on my road to Back in Business has me facing the one and only KAIZEN, one one one for the first time ever. Mr. Tokko-Yaro himself. Believe me when I say this is a match I'm excited to have.

    There are many things in life that I've been wrong about. I thought Gabrielle was worthy of making my wife and growing old with. I thought PAJ was my friend. I thought MC Fromage was the future of the FWA. I thought KAIZEN was one of the aforementioned "flavors of the month." Before I say ANYTHING else about Tokko-Yaro, I need to first and foremost admit that I was very wrong about KAIZEN. Despite what I said about the man in my Carnal Contendership promo, I can see now how wrong I was having shared the ring with him, even if there were over 20 others guys there as well, I was still blown away by his performance. KAIZEN put his money where his mouth was and performed just as well in the match as I did. That is why I am taking this match on Fight Night just as seriously as if this was a Pay-Per-View with a title on the line. KAIZEN is the real deal, which is all the more reason for me to destroy him.

    Chris Kennedy opens up his gym bag and then pulls his ring gear out of it. Kennedy then begins undressing to his underwear, continuing to speak as he changes into his in-ring attire.

    Chris Kennedy: I could go on and on about how KAIZEN broke Devin Golden's X-Title record, how KAIZEN went on to become a World Champion, or his classic matches with the likes of Stu St.Clair, Marcus Thane, Lucian Ace, all that shit. I could spend hours talking about what a great competitor he is, but the fact is, I'm not trying to fuck him, I'm trying to beat him. So instead, let me tell you about ME, and why, for as good as KAIZEN is, I am BETTER. I am a FOUR TIME FWA World Champion. The first ever Undisputed Champion, the only man in HISTORY to hold the FWA Championship AND The World Heavyweight Championship, Two Time Tag Team Champion, Former X-Champion, Carnal Contendership Winner, Golden Opportunity Winner, UNDEFEATED at Back in Business. When I compare KAIZEN's accolades to mine, that love letter to that I've begun to draft get's crumpled up and thrown right into the fucking trash.

    KAIZEN has proven time and time again that he will rise to the occasion when the stakes are high, but so have I, in bigger matches, against better opponents. Now I'm sure KAIZEN feels he has a lot to prove in this match, what with losing the title to Stu St. Clair and then losing Carnal Contendership. I feel for him in that my regard, because in MY last two matches, I lost the FWA championship and then lost that very same Carnal Contendership. Now, Kennedy and KAIZEN, two guys you have more in common than you may have realized, face off against each other in a PPV level match that's given away for free on Fight Night. As you may have pieced together from what I just said, KAIZEN has a lot to prove and I have just as much, no, wait...MORE, to prove than he does. We are both on the road to Business, though we are seeking different routes. Him, the World Heavyweight Championship. Me, The FWA Championship. He has to prove that he can stand toe to toe with ME, something an opponent unlike any he's ever faced, and I'll have to prove that I am STILL in my prime as I claim to be. In case you have any doubt as to who is going to reach their respective goal, and who's going to be stuck in a last minute filler match, just watch my match with KAIZEN tonight to get a glimpse of how our respective journeys will look like. Spoiler alert: Kennedy wins. He always wins and no matter how good KAIZEN is, I am BETTER, and not just because I'm smarter than him, or because I've got more experience than he does, none of that. I'm going to win because I want this more than he does. Plain and simple.

    Kennedy is now in full wrestling gear. White briefs, white boots, black knee pads. He throws his blazer on and gives himself a once over in the mirror. He heads to the sink and splashes some cold water on his face in an effort to drive off the lingering daze from his medication. His face rises from the cold water and his eyes open wide in the mirror. He dries his face with a nearby towel and continues.

    Chris Kennedy: I'd like to think, that soon enough, I'll be able to say "on any given sunday, KAIZEN can beat Kennedy." I'm sure there are plenty of people who think that. They are dead wrong. The next 300 or so sundays belong to CHRIS KENNEDY. So long as I have a heart that beats and the will to succeed, NOTHING can bring me down. Not KAIZEN, not PAJ, not Cyrus Truth, Ryan Rondo, or whoever the fuck else thinks they are anywhere CLOSE to being on MY level. Cancer couldn't take me down, who in the hell do these men think they are are compared to me? What's a cockroach to a BATTLE TANK? I AM A GOD among these men, and one by one they will all learn to address me as such. Anyone who gets in my way on my path to the FWA Championship is getting fucking turned inside out and it alllllllllll starts with KAIZEN. The Artist Formerly known as Savant. His little Minoru Special is going to prove useless when I reverse out of it and NAIL him with a Bittersweet Chin Symphony so fucking heavy it sends him back to Japan.

    Mark my words. I'm main eventing Back in Business. I don't give a shit if Carnal Contendership was taken by Cyrus King. I will find a way into the main event. I'm 5-0 at Back In Business. This year I'm making it 6-0 and taking the FWA Championship back with me. I never LOST that championship, it was STOLEN from me. Phillip A. Jackson defeated me AFTER I had just finished going to war with Executive Excellence, after I was already broken down after a long hard fought battle with Christian Quinn, and the reason he did this that it was THE ONLY way that he could beat me. I am the rightful FWA Champion and I will get my title back, that's a promise. There are five things in this world that I love unconditionally. My Daughter. My girlfriend. This sport. The FWA Fans. The FWA Championship. Everything else to me means FUCK ALL. The things that I just listed, those are the five things I will fight for, TO THE DEATH, even when my back is to the wall, because NO ONE cares about the FWA more than I do. I couldn't break the fourth wall with that one any more even if I gave Drew Stevenson and Vincent Takaab Blackbird giant hammers and paid them to do it for me. The FWA Championship is mine and I promise, by the time Back in Business has ended, it will be right where it's supposed to be; WITH ME.

    After that final bell rings, and the referee yells "Your winner, CHRIIIIIIIIIIIS KENNEDYYYYYY!!!" I want everyone to take a good long look at KAIZEN's face. I want you to see that disappointment of a third strike, that painful awakening and that depressing acceptance, knowing that he did absolutely everything you could to beat me, but still couldn't get the job done. Try to pin point the exact moment his heart breaks into a thousand different pieces. This isn't anything personal, that I can promise you. I hold no ill will towards KAIZEN. That doesn't mean that I'm not going to absolutely enjoy ripping him to shreds and showing the world that I am STILL at the top of this food chain. See, I say shit like that and it drives people crazy, they don't want to see me win. I don't give a shit. I'm not "The Last Star In The Sky" or "The Vagabond King." I'm not "The Last Great Englishman" or "The Snake. I AM THE ASTONISHING CHRIS KENNEDY AND I AM THE GREATEST WRESTLER OF ALL TIME AND IF YOU DISPUTE THAT, BY ALL MEANS, COME PROVE ME WRONG. Pro Tip: You never will, because you are all a bunch of sopping wet pussys, and I'm every bit as good as I say I am.

    Chris Kennedy cracks his knuckles and stretches his arms a bit before exiting the locker room, enroute to his match with KAIZEN.


    -














    Last edited by Jiggy; 08-15-2017 at 11:45 PM.

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    Re: "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy




    The Churchill War Rooms. King Charles Street, London, England.

    Underneath a darkened sky covered with thick grey clouds, we see The Churchill War Rooms, a historic London museum. It looks as if it could rain at any moment, though that's business as usual around this time of year. At a cool 45 degrees, with a dry wind rolling through, the atmosphere is rather dreary as we make our way into the museum. Heading down the lobby halls, we walk by many historical facts framed in glass and posted on the wall. Continuing on, we find ourselves in the Cabinet War Rooms, the historic underground complex that served as a British government command center during World War II. Sitting at the large black table in the center of the room, is the Four Time FWA World Champion, The Astonishing Chris Kennedy.

    Kennedy leans back in the black leather chair, his black leather boots propped up on the table while Kennedy enjoys a bottle of Flanagan Single Malt scotch, strait from the bottle. Between Kennedy's lips is a Ramon Allones Specialty Select Cuban cigar. With little regard to the "No Smoking" signs posted throughout the museum, he takes a long, slow drag of the cigar, savoring the subtle notes of espresso bean and marzipan that dance among the smoke billowing out from his nostrils. Kennedy's expression is calm, and relaxed, though there is an intensity in his tired eyes. Kennedy's attire matches his disposition: relaxed. A light blue Hawaiian shirt with hula girl print, unbuttoned, with a black tank top underneath. Slim fit grey denim jeans and black leather Doc Martens. Kennedy doesn't look surprised to see us, he just turns his attention to us without shifting facial expressions, almost as if we've been there all along.

    Chris Kennedy: War. War never changes, man. The world keeps moving on, evolving, resembling an even different world just about every 10 years or so. Empires have risen and said empires have fallen in the span of single lifetimes. People went from worshiping fire and hunting mammoth with spears, to arguing about where transgendered individuals should take a shit and tweeting about how lit Beyonce's "Lemonade" is. But between point A and point B, there was always war. The world changes, people change (sometimes) but WAR never changes. I've been at war since the moment I returned to the FWA. I'm not talking about my recent return from injury. That was but a brief vacation. No, I'm talking about when I beat cancer's ass, and then came back to the FWA last year. From one war, to another. So this war I've been fighting, it doesn't matter who the foot soldiers were, your Gabrielles, your Christian Quinns & Danny Toners, your PAJs, none of them mattered. They were the grunts. It's the general I'm concerned with, the one giving all the orders. That man's name is Thomas Princeton. Princeton has wanted me out of the FWA for as long as I can remember. Phillip A. Jackson is under the assumption that he is special and that my hatred is all for him. He's wrong. Last week, that Bittersweet Chin Symphony had Phillip A. Jackson's name on it, but when he cowardly threw his sugar daddy in front of it, and my foot connected with Thomas Princeton's skull, I'll admit I had a half chub after that. Watching his beady little eyes roll to the back of his head as he hit the ground, it was the highlight of my week, maybe even my year. As Phillip A. Jackson slithered away, my eyes never lost sight of what I really wanted. The FWA Championship. Phillip A. Jackson could see it in my eyes, that intense desire. In his eyes, he met mine with fear, desperation and quiet submission. He was so cute tapping on his--MY--FWA championship, his own personal badge of honor. Heh...Honor. That's novelty term to men like him.

    Phillip A.Jackson doesn't know the first thing about honor. He is a graduating alumni from the Thomas Princeton School for Fuckboys. Every word he speaks is shrouded heavily in dishonesty. Every action peppered with deceit, Every step he takes is merely a step towards his own agenda. Guys like Phillip A. Jackson and Thomas Princeton, they take what they want, man, and they have always been that way. From the day they each came to the FWA, to this very day, they have been vile parasites that stab their peers in the back because they don't have the balls to stand with them face to face. They are the same despicable tapeworms they've always been and while they'd have you believe that I'm some sanctimonious sack of shit rolled in self righteousness, the fact is that I've always been about two things; honor and glory. Two things they've never tasted. I stress that they will always be rotten shit stains because some people, like the wars that we wage everyday, will never change. So then, while everyone is sending praise over to a man like Danny Toner, I find it hard to co-sign with those who would gush over endlessly. See, I have a different image when I think of Danny Toner, and it's not entirely fond. I see you Danny Toner, and I haven't forgot the hand you played in Executive Excellence.

    Chris Kennedy stands up, bottle in hand, cigar resting between his index and middle finger. He paces around the large table in the center of the room.

    Chris Kennedy: The people are cheering you now, Danny. Good for you. The fans, bless their hearts, they have a shorter memory span than I do, I'm afraid. I still remember. I still remember you and Christian Quinn holding me down while Gabrielle attacked me, you and Christian Quinn double teaming me on Princeton's command, you jumping whenever Thomas Princeton said so. I'll never forget and I'll never show you the respect you want me to. You see, last week, I faced KAIZEN in this whole Round Robin thing. I praised the guy, said he was someone that I liked and respected. I'm in a completely different position this week. I don't like you, Toner, and I sure as shit don't respect you. Not now, not ever. You may have all of the fans fooled, but not me, son.

    You ditched your suit and tie and you threw on your leather jacket. You started emphasizing the fact that you MIGHT have had a drug problem because man, that sure makes you look cool, doesn't it? You aren't Danny Toner "corporate stooge" anymore, oh no! You are Danny FUCKING Toner! You are so hip! So edgy! YOU ARE SO FULL OF SHIT. Danny Toner, you are nothing more than a POSER. A bargain barrel dollar store action figure that people aren't quite sure if it's Ashley O'Ryan or Tommy Tripper, the package just reads "Generic FWA Cool Guy, $2.99." You are the epitome of mediocrity, Danny Toner. Perhaps the people see something in you that I don't, but given you've done next to nothing in the FWA, aside from letting Christian Quinn carry you to an incredibly brief Tag Title reign. In the grand scheme of things, you are nobody. Your name is nowhere in the title histories, nowhere in the rule books, nowhere that people will look. you have the opportunity to change all that, Danny, but you won't. You'll simply squander it, as you always do. I'd like to say that I respect you, Danny, because then I'd take a greater reward in defeating you. Honor and glory, remember? There is little honor in defeating someone who doesn't even want to win to begin with. That's always been you, the guy that never played to win, but rather played for the paycheck. Dispute that? Then why join Executive Excellence in the first place? C'mon , man. Get real.

    Kennedy walks over to the globe on the nearby table and spins it. He stops his finger on a random spot. Germany. Kennedy grins.

    C
    hris Kennedy: My eyes are set on the future. Back in Business. The FWA Championship. I KNOW what I want and I'm working towards that. Danny Toner, I can already tell that you aren't thinking that far ahead, you are living in the here and now. That's not smart, Toner. A man without a plan is a man planning to fail. I don't know what is on your mind but you clearly aren't concerned with Back in Business, that was evident last week when you lost to Ryan Rondo. Speaking of last week, I want to touch on something you said. You said "It's about time being Danny Toner meant something." I couldn't agree more, because for the longest time, you were nothing. You still are nothing. I want you to succeed, I want you to be every bit as good as they think you are so you can stop letting them down. On Fight Night, you will have an opportunity to finally earn the hype you've had about you for nearly two years now, hype you haven't made good on. Hold on though, and pay attention. You will not seize that opportunity. Try as you might, you will fail. And I'll explain why.

    You won't fail because you aren't good enough to beat me. You are almost as good as I am, physically. Almost. And you won't fail because I'm smarter than you, though I clearly am. I am going to beat you, Danny Toner, because I want this more than you do. Simple as that. You don't take this seriously. This is just a game to you. This is my LIFE. This isn't all that I have but damn it if I don't cherish it like it was. I bleed the FWA and nobody in this business looks forward to Back in Business more than I do. It's MY show. 5 years. Undefeated. Multiple main events. Back in Business means more to me than you could ever imagine, because you don't care about the glory that comes with headlining the biggest show in this business. You just care about looking cool and being cool and making sure everyone is paying attention to you. You've promised a "new and improved" Danny Toner with just about every promo you've ever cut, but you've yet to deliver because you lack HEART.

    I am not oblivious to the fact that no matter how little effort you have put into your FWA career, Danny Toner, you still have your fans. In the same turn, I've put my heart and soul into my FWA career and I have my share of haters. It's one of those weird things you just shrug off. I get that. People will always be jealous of me, jealous that I've accomplished more than them. Last week, KAIZEN called me out, and in doing so, showed a complete lack of knowledge on FWA history. He said that I needed Brian Carter to get to where I am today. And Jack Severino. The guy obviously just read the FWA title histories and tried to piece two and two together, because he wasn't here and his assessment of my FWA history was as comical as it was uneducated. I was a 3 time World Champion before I had ever met Brian Carter. Jack Severino, I have absolutely no idea what he was talking about. I guess he is talking about the night we were randomly paired together in the middle of our Back in Business VII feud? I don't know. It was random nonsense. That's the thing, Toner, just like your promo last week had nothing on Rondo, KAIZEN had nothing on me and the son of a bitch just started talking out of his ass. That's why he lost. KAIZEN has been here two years, and insinuates that I had a roadmap laid out for me for success, and that he worked his ass off. I am going to correct KAIZEN's ignorance and I'm going to do it with you listening so you take note. My first year in the FWA, I wasn't handed title shots like KAIZEN was. I begged for X-Title shots, TV Title shots, North American Title Shots. I got nothing. Matthew Robinson told me I was too good for the midcard and but not good enough for a world title shot. I'm not making this up, this is the shit I had to deal with, the cross I bore when I beat the FWA Champion on Fight Night a week after my debut. Are you paying attention, Toner? I wasn't given X-Title shots willy nilly like KAIZEN, I wasn't given a damn thing until I TOOK it, winning the Golden Opportunity match. You want to talk about a roadmap? KAIZEN was GIVEN the standard route, X-Title shots, Devin Golden's endorsement and subsequent money rivalry, all that. I didn't have that, but what I had was work ethic, and while the ever uneducated KAIZEN insinuated that he's hot shit because he's been working his ass off for 2 years and I'm a "part timer." Get one thing strait. I was here for four years without a break, working MUCH harder than KAIZEN ever has, before I got cancer and had to leave. KAIZEN can talk all of his shit and brag about his 2 years. When he's put in the time I have, then he's earned the right to run his cock sucker. But he hasn't. And that's why I beat him.

    Why am I telling you all that, Toner? Because I remember when you were just a little snot nosed rookie and you were jumping on social media to criticize the Chris Kennedy vs Stu St.Clair Back in Business X booking, asking the world why they should care. You didn't care because you weren't around to know who the fuck Chris Kennedy and Stu St.Clair were. See, KAIZEN knew my name but he wasn't around here when I ran this fucking place so when he came at me sideways, not knowing WHO THE HELL I AM, I destroyed him, inside and out. So a year later, do you still care, Danny Toner? Do you still not realize what I am capable of and what I will do to you when I'm pissed off? KAIZEN is twice the wrestler you are, and I taught him a very valuable lesson in humility. Something tells me you would benefit from a similar demonstration.

    After pacing the room a bit more, Kennedy sits back down in his chair and puts his feet up, pulling from his cigar once more.

    Chris Kennedy: It doesn't really matter which Danny Toner I get. Snot nosed rookie Toner who thought the world owed him something, Executive Excellence Danny Toner who used to say "Yes Sir" to Thomas Princeton, "Anti-Establishment", Leather Jacket wearing, Raquel Wednesday fucking drug addict Toner, or the revitalized Danny "Fucking Toner." It won't matter. I'll beat them all, because the only thing that matters to me anymore is getting my hands around Phillip A. Jackson's throat, squeezing it so hard that his two choices are submit or fucking die, and then taking my FWA Championship back. Danny Toner, you are one of the men standing in the way of that, and while I'd usually say something along the lines of "It's nothing personal" or "You are in the wrong place at the wrong time" I am going to refrain from such sentiments, because if I'm being honest with you, I don't like you. When I look at you, I still see Thomas Princeton's little bitch boy, much like PAJ, who is now Princeton's current bitch boy. When I see you, Danny Toner, I see every man like you that's come after you. When I see you, I see Phillip A. Jackson. And that alone is enough to earn you an ass beating at the hands of Chris Kennedy, Back in Business implications be damned. I promise you, Danny Toner, on everything that I hold sacred, I'm going to destroy you on Fight Night, and then I'm taking my ass to Back in Business. Trust.

    Kennedy winks at us before leaning back in his seat. Another swig of his scotch before he closes his eyes and begins to hum the tune of Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony." We fade to black as our scene ends.







    Last edited by Jiggy; 08-15-2017 at 11:45 PM.

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    Re: "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy

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