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  1. #1
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    Jimmy King's Avatar

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    Post promos for the 05/01/2020 Fight Night here. Promos are due Saturday, May 2nd at midnight Pacific time, which is Sunday, May 3rd at 3 a.m. Eastern time and 8 a.m. British time.

    There will be no extensions.

    Rest in power, Flock U
    Rest in power, TCON

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business

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

  2. #2
    All About That Ace

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    Zachary Kazadi had a smile on his face.

    But Kazadi rolls inside and Golden misses! Kazadi quickly runs over to Golden and bridges his legs for a pin!!! Kazadi is crouched but using all of his weight to keep Golden down!!!

    Christian Quinn: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! HOW?!


    Winner: Zachary Kazadi

    Zachary Kazadi’s smile faded.

    But Kazadi rolls inside and Golden misses! Kazadi quickly runs over to Golden and bridges his legs for a pin!!! Kazadi is crouched but using all of his weight to keep Golden down!!!


    Christian Quinn: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! HOW?!


    Winner: Zachary Kazadi

    Zachary Kazadi’s smile disappeared.

    But Kazadi rolls inside and Golden misses! Kazadi quickly runs over to Golden and bridges his legs for a pin!!! Kazadi is crouched but using all of his weight to keep Golden down!!!

    Christian Quinn: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! HOW?!


    Winner: Zachary Kazadi

    He threw his phone violently against the wall. Only a tiny percentage of him hoped the reinforced case would save his newest buy from a similar end to its predecessor. At the moment, the percentage of interest in his phone was so tiny, he did not bother picking it up, he had other concerns. He was enraged, genuinely. Pulling open the locker room door, Zachary speed walked through the halls of the PPG arena. When he came across the first man with an FWA polo shirt, he demanded to know where Todd Salum was. Good, the interviewer didn’t have anything scheduled for today’s Fight Night, Kazadi would give him something to hand in to the suits.
    He found Salum in the production truck in the parking lot and dragged him out. Another production member tried to intervene but had the good sense not to when he met Kazadi’s eyes.

    “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Todd started. “This isn’t you Zachary, you’re not Big Mike.”

    “What?” He realized what Todd meant before the explanation could come and sneered. “Get your crew here, I’ve got a message to send.”

    Todd’s eyes widened in understanding. “Right. Well the A-Team – don’t ask me, that’s what they like to be called now – caught someone going into Blackbird’s office, let me see if I can wrangle the B-Team over. By the way, the B-Team does not like that name, I’d avoid using it when they’re around.”

    Zachary wasn’t surprised the so-called A-team was busy. Anytime one of the bigger names on the roster so much as blinked angrily, there were cameras on it and the wrestling show came to a halt to hear whatever bullshit they had to spew. He makes a come back, pins one of the biggest names in FWA history, and no one so much as asks him how he feels. Then again, his aloofness may have begged that treatment. It didn’t take long before the B-Team arrived. Todd Salum, credit due where it must go, became a consummate professional the moment the red light ticked on and the “world” was theoretically watching. Though in truth, this was not live.

    “Ladies and gentleman, I’m Todd Salum here with an FWA Exclusive. I’ve got Zachary Kazadi, former X-Champ, Quest for the Best & Carnal Contendership finalist, here with me.” The reminder of everything Kazadi had come close to accomplishing but failed to succeed at visibly aggravated the wrestler. “Zach, you just beat a living legend in Devin Golden – I think the world is waiting to hear what you have to say after a monumental victory like that.”

    Salum angled the microphone towards Kazadi. The Man Who Comes Short ripped it out of his hands.

    “You know, there aren’t many people in professional wrestling who are as smart in that ring as I am. That’s a fact. When I face a guy like Devin Golden, I’ve studied him so damn much I already know every which way that match-up can possibly end whether its me losing or me winning. It’s because of that that I know what I need to do to avoid losing. But that part is besides the point. All of this to say, I know what goes on in that ring. I am not Devin Golden, I don’t climb up and take a risk for the sake of taking a risk, I take calculated risks. Now, follow me with where I am going with this, every decision I make is calculated – when I took that pin on Devin Golden, I did not make that pin intending to win it. I made that pin intending on tiring out a veteran who stood thirty minutes in the ring with a seven-foot ‘monster’ and couldn’t stop getting back up if you put a damn bullet through his brain. When I made that pin, I was playing my game, I did not expect that a three time FWA World Champion Devin Golden would have simply stopped trying. I did not expect that a Hall of Famer would decide to call it a day in the middle of a match.”

    He lowered the microphone for a moment. He wanted his future audience to absorb that.

    “He gave up and I think every single one of the people watching realized that. You’ve all seen Devin Golden wrestle. That wasn’t Devin Golden at his best. I told that stupid bastard on Fight Night, I warned him. I gave him every damn opportunity to prepare himself. He told me to MY face that he heard me, that he’d be ready. He lied to me. He lied to everyone that paid a day’s work to come out here and watch him. Devin Golden got his paycheck, he turned around, and he called it a day.”

    Kazadi was fuming by this point. Approaching the camera even closer, at an intimate distance.

    “I told you guys from the moment I stepped into this door so many years ago. I’m not here for glory. I’m not here for empty wins. I’m not here to pull belts off rafters while I hang from a ladder. I’m not here to toss a guy over the ropes and act like that makes me a talented wrestler. I’m not here to light someone on fire and act like that means I deserve a title shot. I signed with the FWA because it’s a professional wrestling company, the largest in the world, with presumably the best professional wrestlers in the world. I came here to beat them, without a shadow of a doubt. You think I pin a guy like Devin Golden like that that fills me with self-respect? I see it the way every single eye in that arena sees it: it’s pathetic. It means nothing. It was a Fight Night. Devin Golden had nothing riding on this. He had nothing to lose. Devin Golden could call that a championship match but if he’s not fighting like a champion then it isn’t. You think the Devin Golden Championship means anything if that’s how hard you’ll fight for it? I got an empty win no one will give a shit about until six months from now when I can ‘brag’ about it because everyone forgot how the win even happened. You think I’m letting you walk away like that, Devin?”

    “Uh, Zach-“

    “You think I’m going to settle for that.”

    “Zach, I’ve actually got something you might-“

    “No, Devin Golden, I think you owe your fans something.”

    “It’s really rel-“

    “And we’re not going to wait till Payback for it-“

    “Zachary Kazadi, Vincent Blackbird has just granted Devin Golden a rematch against you next week on Fight Night.”

    Zachary’s eyes widen and he backs away from the camera. He frowns for a moment. Thinking it over.

    “Devin Golden challenged me to a match.”

    “Next Fight Night.”

    “What’s the catch?”

    “No catch. It’s you versus Devin Golden.”

    Kazadi frowns again but this time his eyes are on the camera.

    “Devin Golden, you want me one on one. Next Fight Night. That’s perfectly fine. I don’t need to wait for Payback, you don’t either. We’re wrestlers. We settle things in that ring, the first chance we get. If you’d asked me to get back in the ring with you right now, I’d do it quite frankly. And I’d beat you again. But let’s make something real clear, Devin. You and I, we’re not having a repeat of today. When that bell rings, and they’re announcing my name again, it won’t be those people excited that I miraculously pulled off a win. I want them to hear my name, and I want them to feel like it was an inevitability, not a surprise. You know how we’re going to do that Devin? You and I, next Fight Night, the only way one of us is winning is because the other man tapped out or passed out.”

    “I mean with all due respect, Zach, General Manager Blackbird has already made the match official, you can’t dictate the stipulations.”

    “Shut up, Todd. I haven’t signed a contract for more than one match. I signed a contract for tonight. You want me to sign a contract for next Fight Night, to face Devin Golden, you face me in a submission match. You want to take the easy way out Devin. You want to be a coward. You want to half-ass this shit. You lose, I want YOUR fans, the people who PAID to see YOU, I want them to see you tell them ‘this isn’t worth the trouble, I’m done, call it ref’. I want them to see you say that. I want them to see you give up. And if it isn’t that Devin, if it isn’t that, if you still have some sort of heart in you, then there’s something else I want to see, I want to see the look on everyone of the faces in that arena when you stop fighting, when you can’t fight anymore. I wanna’ see the look on those faces, on YOUR face, when your body gives up on you, when there’s literally nothing more you can do. That’s what’s going to happen next Fight Night. Those headlines, the frontpage on FWA dot COM, the trending topic on twitter, the viral clips, it’s gonna’ be of you giving up on YOUR people, or its going to be your body giving up on you. You want the Devin Golden Championship back, those are my terms. See you on Fight Night, Devin.”

    Zachary Kazadi roughly pushes the microphone back into Todd’s chest.

    “You don’t even know if he’ll accept.”

    “Oh, he’ll accept.”

  3. #3
    WC Hall Of Famer

    Jimmy King's Avatar

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    Jan 2010
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    The scene begins in a small, quaint looking room. The drapery in the room is done up to make it look like olden times, even the furnishings in the room have been made to look like it was made in old days. There’s a chair in the center of the room and next to the chair is an end table with what looks like a record player, and soon enough someone enters the room, none other than “The Wildcard” Jason Randall. He’s wearing his usual garb, a band t-shirt (this time it’s the heavy metal band Steel Panther), jeans, and boots, he most certainly looks out of place for the setting of the room. He takes a seat on the chair next to the end table with the record player, in his hand he’s holding a record that he places on the player and the small scratch of the record is heard before the sounds of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

    “You know, there’s nothing that I like more than to start my day off by listening to some classical music. It’s probably not what you’d expect to hear from me considering how I portray myself inside of the squared circle, but it’s true. Nothing gets my mind going quite like some Mozart in the morning. I’ve done some research and Mozart was a fascinating person, truly he was. He was born January 27th 1756, and died on December 5th 1791. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart made some truly unforgettable works that will live on forever”

    Penny walks into the room and hands him a glass of red wine, and Jason takes a sip of it and makes a face while doing so.

    “I’m not here to give you some history lesson on Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, I know you don’t want to hear that from me. You’re probably wondering to yourself why am I even talking about him, well there’s the name, “Amadeus”. That name sounded familiar to me when doing my research on Mozart and then I remembered that I know a guy using that as a moniker…”

    He waves to the camera with a smile.

    “Hi Kev, how are you? I hope you’re doing well, truly. Hey, look I’m sorry about giving you the Snake Eyes last week on Fight Night, wrong place wrong time but I honestly hope that there’s no hard feelings…”

    His fake smile is starting to fade now.

    “I just wanted to get my message across to Michelle, and well, you just so happened to have gotten in the middle of my crosshairs. Again, I truly hope that there are no hard feelings. Just like I hope that there will be no hard feelings when I beat you from pillar to post this upcoming Fight Night in a two out of three falls match, and that just so happens to be a number one contender’s match for Michelle’s X-Division Championship…”

    The song on the record player ends, so Penny replaces it with another Mozart masterpiece.

    “Don’t you just hate it when a song comes to an end, especially when you’re really starting to enjoy it and get into it? It’s just like after this Fight Night this old song and dance between us will come to an end, Kevin. I’ve been watching you Kevin, ever since you’ve arrived in FWA I’ve kept my eye on you because I saw something special in you. I know that’s probably strange coming from me, but it’s the truth. You’re a hell a talent, and I found that out not too long ago when you beat me in the ring. But, as I look at you know I don’t see the same Kevin Cromwell that entered this company with a fire in his belly and immediately won the X-Division championship from the man that beat me for it, Tristan James Galloway. I’ll never forget that name, he’ll forever be a thorn in my side even if he’s no longer in the company. Just like I’m sure that you’ll never forget that it was Dave Sullivan that ended your reign and went to have his record setting reign as champion, and ever since then you weren’t ever the same person Kevin. Like I said previously, you’re not the same Kevin Cromwell from all those years ago. Something inside of you left when Sullivan beat you for the title, the fire in your belly was extinguished and was never lit again…”

    “Even taking a sabbatical and then returning didn’t help ignite that flame because all I see is a broken man. You’re still trying your best but it just isn’t good enough and now you’re just coasting by…”

    Jason leans in close now and is now wearing a scowl on his face.

    “Look Kevin, I’m going to be blunt with you. I don’t give a rat’s ass how much you still want this because I want this far more than you. You don’t even care anymore Kevin, I can see it in your eyes. Michelle’s eyes show fear, that’s why she doesn’t want me in a match one on one. Your eyes show defeat. A man that doesn’t have what it takes anymore and has no care for what he does, yet he still does it, why is that? Is it because you don’t want to let your family down Kevin? You don’t want to let the Cromwell name down? You want to carry on your family’s legacy? I get it Kevin, I do, but again I don’t give a rat’s ass…”

    He leans back in the chair now and his smile returns.

    “No hard feelings, right Kev? See you in Chicago”

    He winks at the camera and the scene ends.

    Rest in power, Flock U
    Rest in power, TCON

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business

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

  4. #4
    Jam's Avatar

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    The bright lights gave spotlight to the racers. It was a cold night in Chicago but some of Chicago’s finest racers were here to win the $50,000 dollar prize and the rights to call themselves winners. That’s something I had not been called in my FWA career. But hings were looking up. I feel like I’m right where I need to be at this very moment. I missed this. I missed the dirt on my clothes. I missed the adrenaline coursing through my body before a race. I missed the sounds of bikes roaring in my direction. Plus, the food at these events were pretty good, not gonna lie. You bet I’m grabbing the biggest, cheesiest, yummiest burger this event has right after the race. But before all that, I’ve got a race to win.

    Also, you’re probably wondering how I got here.

    I was down in the dumps after another loss. I really thought I had that match against Alyster Black won but yet again, I had fallen short. I didn’t know what else to do. After the match, I took a few days to collect myself in the hotel. I put on some headphones and listened to lo-fi music to make me focus better. During this time, I watched videos of my previous matches. Studying each match diligently looking for the errors I made that ultimately led to my losses. I had a notepad right beside me and by the time it was time to travel, I had at least five pages of notes to look over. I arrived in Chicago four days before Fight Night. Before long, I made it to my hotel room and got myself situated. I took out the notepad with the notes I had written and began looking over them again and replaying the scenarios in my head. I know I had to take a break sooner or later though. Plus, I was feeling like having some cookies and cream ice cream. I grabbed my keys and wallet then made my way to the grocery store nearest to my hotel. As I was entering the store, I saw this poster on the bulletin board near entrance of the store. It was blue and showed off local motocross racers. I walked closer to read some of the details.

    The race was called the Windy City Trials. It was simply twenty laps to the finish and the winner would get $50,000. Says anyone is able to join. Am I really going to participate in a race where I could potentially injure myself days before a Fight Night event? The answer is yes – yes, I will. I took out my phone and called the organizers of the event. They were happy to register me in their race. However, they wanted to make a big deal out of it and announce that I was joining the race and all that. I feared they would make it a big deal to get more eyes on the event but I guess it’s not the worst thing to happen. I explained to them that I needed to borrow a bike as all my bikes are back home and they were happy to lend me one. Well, that’s it. I’m racing in the Windy City Trials.

    I had to do the professional thing and call my brother, Jay, about this though. I know he wasn’t going to be happy about all this but I needed this. I’m sure he’ll understand once I explain it to him. I took my phone out and dialed Jay’s number. After three rings, he picked up.

    Gerald: Hey Jay, how you doing? Hope all has been well. Listen, so…

    Jay: Oh god. Before you start your next sentence, have you really thought this through?

    Gerald: What do you mean? I haven’t even said anything yet.

    Jay: Ugh. Alright, just tell me.

    Gerald: So… there’s this race here in Chicago. It’s called the Windy City Trials. It’s a simple race. Twenty laps to a finish and the winner gets $50,000. I’ve already talked to the organizers and they said they’d let me borrow a bike. I’m good to go. Now, I needed to call you because of my FWA contract. Is there anything in my contract that says I can’t do this?

    Jay: God damn it, Ger. I knew sooner or later you’d pull a stunt like this. Don’t you know that you have the biggest opportunity of your FWA career coming up? You can literally challenge for the World Championship if you win your next match! Why not focus on that?

    Gerald: Jay, that’s exactly what I’m doing here. This is going to help put me back on the right path. I’m winless. I’m down in the dumps right now. I’m a joke backstage. No one is taking me seriously. I really need this, Jay.

    There was a big sigh from Jay and I can understand why. I’ve been giving Jay headaches since the day I was born but I knew that he understood where I was coming from.

    Jay: I know the type of competitor you are, Ger. No one said this FWA thing was going to be easy. There’s no reason to be so down in the dumps after a few losses. I don’t understand you risking an injury for this racing event. I know you’re not using this as an excuse… are you?

    That made me rethink this whole thing a bit. Was I using this race as an excuse so that if I lose the gauntlet match, I have something to fall back on? I know Jay isn’t asking me this to insult me. He’s asking this to motivate me.

    Gerald: C’mon, you should know the answer to that. I’m not one to back down from a challenge even if taking on a challenge causes me more harm than good. I just… I just need this right now, Jay. You of all people know why I’m doing this.

    More sighs coming my way.

    Jay: I do. I know you’re one stubborn sonofagun. I know your potential Ger, I wish you could see it too. But it seems you’ve made up your mind.

    I can sense the annoyance jay is feeling. But knowing him, he’s going to agree with what I’ve decided.

    Jay: You’re lucky that I was the one who negotiated your FWA contract. For anyone else, they would absolutely not be able to do this race you want to participate in. But in your contract, you’re allowed to still do extreme sports whether it be casually or to participate in races. However, if you injure yourself and can’t compete at FWA events because you suffered an injury due to participating in extreme sports, you will not receive any aid from FWA to pay your medical expenses and be terminated from FWA entirely.

    I took a moment to process all of that.

    Jay: You there?

    Gerald: Yeah, I’m here. If that’s what’s at cost, I’ll be ready. Jay, I know this is super dumb of me right now but I really need this. I really thought I’d be doing so much better in FWA but so far, I’ve been an embarrassment. I don’t even know why FWA management is giving me this opportunity.

    Jay: Ger, let me tell you. You’re not a joke backstage. I’ve heard nothing but great things from backstage officials on you. So don’t worry about that. You’ve put on a great show so far in your short FWA career and I can only imagine more great things are coming your way. But I’m your brother and I understand where you’re coming from. I know that you’re someone who needs to keep moving to feel normal. And right now, you’re down. But like you said before, we’re Graysons. We’ve been through the lowest of lows but that hasn’t stopped us and it won’t stop us now. But please, bring this same energy in the gauntlet match, alright?

    Gerald: You’re the best, Jay. Thank you for always having my back. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with. But I’m your brother so I’ve gotta mess things up for you once in a while, right?

    We share a laugh.

    Gerald: I’m going to win this $50,000, give you half of my winnings, and win this gauntlet match! Easy as that. Don’t you worry, Jay. Plus, worse case scenario, you’ll help me pay my medical bill, right?

    I laugh again but Jay doesn’t share the same sentiment.

    Jay: Just be careful, alright?

    Gerald: I will. Thank you again. Kiss the kids for me. Bye.

    Well, I have gotten my brother’s blessing more or less. And it looks like I won’t be breaking anything in my contract with FWA. This racing event is a go.

    This was it. For a local race, there sure are a lot of people in the crowd –at least 5,000 people are in attendance today. Gotta be. Before long, the announcer began talking over the PA system.

    Race Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Windy City Trials! We’ve assembled Chicago’s finest racers all under one roof tonight. And let me tell you, it’s going to be one hell of a race!

    The Chicago crowd roars in excitement.

    Race Announcer: We are being joined by a special guest tonight. He is FWA superstar and extreme sports enthusiast – GERALD GRAYSON!

    The Chicago crowd once more roars in excitement. Dressed in an all-blue with white trimmings uniform #28, I remove my helmet to acknowledge the crowd. I wasn’t expecting this much of an ovation to be honest but maybe they’re just excited for the races to begin.

    All twenty racers were at the starting line. Ten racers in the front and ten racers in the back. I was positioned back left. I look to my left and see a racer focused and ready. To my right, I see a racer cracking his neck to ready himself. Behind me, numerous racers were fixing their helmets, doing their routines of tightening their gloves, and more. But in front of me, ooooh this biker was glaring at me. He was wearing a maroon and white uniform numbered 51. His sharp, dark brown eyes stared a hole through me as he had his visor up. When I caught his attention, he gave his bike a good rev to dirty me up. One of the ultimate disrespectful gestures in motocross. I didn’t mind though. Underneath my helmet, I was smiling. I was right where I needed to be.

    Race Announcer: Racers, get in position!

    When that light goes green, we were all gunning for the finish line. It’s still on red. My mind went racing thinking about my FWA career so far. All the losses and the bruises I’ve accrued in such a short time. It’s now on yellow. Some bright spots in my FWA career as images of that brutal match at Back in Business began filling my mind. I was so close. But it wasn’t enough. FINALLY- IT WAS GREEN! We were off!

    Like any good racer, many of them seemed to strategize to take inside lane control but I wasn’t worry about it yet. The racer dirtied me up before all this, #51 was in the lead and I was in fourth right now. The first ten laps passed by so quick. The next five were a little more back and forth as racer #51 and I traded the lead a few times. This was great. The cheers of the fans were nice to hear. The sound of my bike hitting the small rocks and dirt were music to my ears. This wasn’t all about speed though, skill plays a big part in motocross.

    We were approaching a big jump. In these big jumps, racers would go high enough to be able to perform tricks. But no one really did that here as they were more focused on finishing the race. This wasn’t a freestyle event. Right now, I was in fourth and racer #51 was third in front of me. As we approached the big jump, we both began putting the speed on. We passed the big jump and we were in the air.

    Instead of focusing on the race, this dude tried to show me up by performing a freestyle trick. Yes, the crowd went crazy for that. The announcer even acknowledged it on the PA system and called the play, “ballsy.” However, with high reward, comes high risk. See how that turned around? When racer #51 was doing his trick in-air, he looked at me too long and well, he crashed and burned.

    When I landed, I looked back at him and when the rest of the racers passed him, the medical team were assisting him immediately. I was now in third. Now more than ever, I felt in my element. I let all my worries and troubles go. What came next was just second nature. I needed to race past racer #49 and racer #203. My mind went into winning mode. I began thinking about the gauntlet match. Kayden Knox, Orion, Ashley Bell, Eli Black, Alyster Black, and Dave Sullivan. These were the names that were standing in my way of greatness. I know that everyone, especially the champ, Sullivan, were hungry to win it all. But there’s no way I’m letting this opportunity pass. I began to speed things up and gained control of the inside lane.

    Through all that, I began thinking of all my hardships in FWA. All my losses. Taking a nasty fall from atop a ladder onto tables. Taking a beating from Von Horrowitz last week as she took advantage of my taped up ribs. They felt better but they weren’t at 100%. I began thinking of myself. Me. The extreme sports enthusiast, Gerald Grayson.

    ME! That’s it! That’s what it’s been all this time. Me. I was holding myself back. I’ve been thinking of all the negative and not enough of the positive. My mindset was weak. It’s been weak since the first time I stepped foot in FWA. I should’ve known better. All this time, I just had to make adjustments to myself. I need to think smarter, I need to hit harder, I need to fly around the ring better, I need to take advantage of situations better. Me. I need to better myself!

    I need to change. I can’t think about the past mistakes I’ve made. I must look towards the future. Yes, I have never won in FWA. Yes, I have put on some good performances. But that isn’t enough. Us Graysons were never penciled in to succeed but that’s the opposite of what’s happened. I will be successful. I know that all my opponents will be bringing their A game to Chicago but their A game will not compare to what I will bring to the table. They don’t know what I’ve been through in life and everything else life has thrown at me. It’s made me into the person I am today.

    Before I know it, I’m in first place. I look behind me for a brief second and see that racer #49 is behind me… but he’s a distant second place. I look forward. I make one last turn. I speed up and keep going and going and going.

    I threw my helmet in the air before riding my bike in a victory circle as the camera flashes come in. This victorious feeling gets better each time but this feels… different. It feels like a gear has switched inside of me. I like this.

    Come Fight Night, a new and improved Gerald Grayson will make his way to the United Center. I don’t fear failure anymore. No. I fear what my opponents will have to deal with when I get in the ring with them. I promise you there is no one who will outwork me. Coming into this gauntlet match, I will prove to myself and to my doubters that I detach the underdog mantra from my name.

    Sullivan, enjoy your reign now because this gauntlet match is just step one of my two step mission. Step one – win the gauntlet match. Step two – take you down and win the world title. I will be the conqueror of the kingdom that you once reigned over. I will make FWA MY kingdom. Gerald Grayson is now… ready.

    Tough times don't last, tough people do.

  5. #5
    I'm a Stone Cold Lee Guy.
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      Country                    Ireland


    "Only seems right. Gotta do it by the book, y'know? Tick all the boxes."

    There's a pause before the grainy darkness resolves, revealing Kevin Cromwell sitting on an ugly brown tile floor with his back against the wall. A pair of black Chucks are on his feet, the knee ripped out of his jeans as he tugs at the frayed threads. There's tape residue visible across the backs of his hands, sticking to the dark hairs that still remain on his wrists. His knuckles are torn up; a few of the cuts are still oozing clear plasma – no real shocker here. We've seen him like this before, as if this is the thing he likes to do after spending an hour hitting the bag.

    KC:"I dunno how that message came across – didn't hear boo about it from any of you. Did I ruffle any feathers? Wasn't my intention. Promise you that. I just needed a little time to rest, to press the reset button on all this bullshit angst I've been carrying 'round for months. An' maybe it's a little unwarranted. Maybe all these slights I see, all these glaring wrongs I find in all my peers – maybe they're on me. In my head. Maybe they were always there an' I just chose not to see the forest for all the trees? Either way, my eyes are open. I'm woke, as the kids're sayin' these days. I didn't ask for this clarity. Didn't ask for this fuckin' burden.I fell ass backwards into this opportunity. I haven’t done anything impressive in months. I didn't rack up a ton of eliminations in the Chamber, I didn’t push MVHd for more'n a few minutes. I'm grossly undeserving of any and all accolades."

    The sarcasm is thick enough that even a deaf man would be able to pick up the context. He snorts, turning his head to spit off camera before letting out a rueful chuckle. A wan smile curves his lips, there and gone in a second before one hand lifts up to rub across his lips.

    KC:"Reminds me of 2015. I fought a guy in London this edgelord motherfucker who got the best of me – point is, I didn't win the match. I didn't have my hand raised an' I walked out of that arena with the loser’s purse. Know what I did with it? I invested it. I called it a fuckin' windfall, threw it in my account and immediately forgot all about it 'cause I'm not used to a world where second place, where the loser gets anything other than the walk of shame."

    That wry quirk of his lips is back, bitterness telegraphed as he shakes his head.

    KC:"I mention it 'cause I found the paperwork. My winnings've tripled since then. When left alone, the spoils seem to flourish – the spoiled, not so much. I know what you're thinking. I do. This is a huge stepping stone for Jason Randell Guy can snatch some glory, have that shine rub off, y'know? 'Cept I've never been shiny. Prob'ly never will be, if we're bein' honest here. There's too much baggage. Too much junk, to make something of myself in this company,"

    He lifts his hand and gestures vaguely beside his ear.

    KC: "My head's full of ghosts tonight. All these whispers in my ears, all these things I thought I'd left behind. Forget that make-believe title shot I got 'cause MVH is fuckin' insane... forget how I earned my way up the ranks in FWA an' won the x belt in three weeks of my debutThere's still that voice whisperin' how I don't belong here at the top; I ain't paid my dues yet. Never gonna happen. Never gonna be good enough to have that respect others seem to garner just by breathing. I say the wrong thing. I do what shouldn't be done – I don't do what's expected 'cause I can't read social cues."

    He shrugs.

    KC"Fear is the mind killer. It creeps in with its doubts first, it tries to get that foothold with a reasonable objection, with that plausible line of thinking. Feeds my paranoia. I know the world doesn't owe me shit any more'n it's out to get me. I shouldn't expect special treatment after a big win – someone needed to wrestle MVH, and now? I need to take out Jason Randel even if he comes off like a drop back from the summit to the gutter. No offense, man. You're not a proven commodity. So maybe this is a test. For you? For me? Who the fuck knows?"

    His dark eyes are bloodshot, half-closed and it's not clear if he's drowsy or looking down at his lap. The light isn't clear enough to make that distinction.

    KC:"I used ta read a lot more when I was a kid... anythin' I could get my hands on an' I always stashed the books up in the treehouse in me backyard. For a while, I had this fixation on comics, y'know? Batman. Zorro. Frank Castle. Superman. Spiderman. All them guys had these tragic backstories – all this death an' violence an' they turned it on its head. Like they coulda gone all Harvey Dent an' had this giant hate-on for the world. 'Stead they went out an' tried to make it a better place an' I always found myself in awe of that. I did, 'cause that's a goddamned noble aspiration an' it takes drive to overcome rather'n accept one's lot in life. Heroes are born of adversity – I read that somewhere. They all had that in common, those origins, like it wasn't enough to just survive. You know how fuckin' hard it is to keep getting back up? Do you?"

    He sighs.

    KC"I never really had no aspirations like that. Just wanted to stick it an' survive an' it wasn't about no big picture stuff then – shit, I was just a dumb kid. I just wanted t'be good at somethin', really. I thought I could fix stuff, use my hands."

    He chuckles softly, closing his eyes for a second as he flexes his fingers. He breathes slowly and evenly, just a little flicker around his mouth serving as a tell of how much pain he's in.

    KC: "You an' me, Jason we ain't so different in that regard. You wanted to be somethin' more'n what you figured life had set out for ya, didn't ya? Tragedy... I know— an' I ain't gonna spell that out any more'n I got to— you know what I mean. I know I ain't nothin' special in that regard, particularly these days, oh sure people tell me I’m doing well Everyone tells you that it ain't your fault when you lose an' they're just like salt in the wounds— like that fuckin' scene in Good Will Huntin' where Matt Damon has that meltdown. People tell you that you're just a victim. You were unlucky – what's that really sayin'?

    His eyes are dark and unreadable as he leans back, letting out a soft sigh. "

    KC: So you resolve to go out there an' live 'cause cowerin' in fear for the rest of your days ain't really an option. You arm yourself to the teeth with whatever you got at your disposal. Drop bombs when you can. Spin lies t'keep 'em away. Stay one step ahead an' maybe one day you'll come out on top – I got good at that. I got so damn good at it, and that’s not false humility, neither. Somehow, some way... I kept reachin' an' I actually caught hold of that tiger by the tail – pulled that dream right outta the air an' now I'm Pony Boy, looking for that moment to stay golden. It's here. It's right in my damn face. Maybe this match against Jason, maybe getting another shot against MVH is the shot I've been lookin' for all this time.

    He sighs, shaking his head.

    KC"So I’m going to go out there, and tell a story about how the strong survive. I'm going to tell the one about the invisible, nothing of a boy who finally got what he always wanted – he finally got to be loved for who he was, for what he could do and how he could make them feel. It's not about the time wasted. It's not about the blood money in the bank – all those damned spoils. It's not about fame or all the trappings. It's not about chairs or tables It's about living a life that you don't feel ashamed of. I finally… sometimes you gotta take a step back an' remember who you used ta be 'fore you can really be who you're 'posed to. Guess what I'm sayin' is the truth in all this' pretty much unassailable. Monsters're out there, sure. But then, so'm I. Your hero. Kevin Cromwell. Monster killer..." his voice drops to a rough whisper, filled with emotion that shines in his dark eyes, " and tonight? A goddamned survivor."

    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

  6. #6
    The Artist of Chaos
    Mr. Franchise's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2009
    Rep Power
      Country                    United States


    The scene opens early morning in a hotel in Windy City Chicago. Its a medium size room that looks very plain and neat besides the instruments and paintings a long the wall. We see Eli Black laying in bed tossing and turning until his alarm rings loud to wake him out of whatever dream he was having. He sits up with a confused expression as if he is not sure if he is still dreaming or not. He rubs the crust out of his eyes and hops out of bed. He grazes the string of the guitar lying next to his bed before walking into the "kitchen" to pour himself a bowl of cereal. Its his cheat day today so he can enjoy a childhood treat in Captain Crunch with Berries. He checks his phone as he munches looking at the news going on in the world until he gets a text from a random number that says can we talk. He puts the phone down and hops into the shower. While he washing off someone is knocking at his front door. He comes out in only a towel. He opens the door and its his agent Laurie who looks away when she realizes he only has a towel on. He steps back with a smirk to lets her in. She walks in expecting a mess of a room but is surprised to see that it is kept together the best that a messy unorganized artist could keep it.

    Laurie: Where is Eli Black at?


    Laurie: I am only asking because i cant believe you are him. This room is too clean for you to be the real Eli. You're also out of your bed before i reached? Can the real Eli please stand up?!?!?

    Black laughs as he gives her a quick hug. He goes into the bathroom to get dressed while Laurie admires his paintings. They seem to showcase stages in Eli's life from childhood up until now. She sits down on the hotel recliner and pulls over his drum and starts beating it off beat. Eli rushes out like the house started shaking to see her beating the drum like it owed her money.

    Black: What are you doing? Have you never played any instrument or heard a beat in your life. That was terrible.

    Laurie: Do not judge me okay? You do the whole artist thing and i crunch numbers and make connections. Speaking of connections. I convinced Travis Scott to meet you again for a session for his next project. Are you ready to run the gauntlet today?

    Black: Yea pleas don't use those exact words....

    Laurie: You still worried about your your match at Fight Night? I know its a big opportunity but you are on a positive up swing after last week.....

    Black: Lets not talk about it. Instead let me help you get back on beat. You know you should be ashamed as a grown Black women that you cant stay on beat or dance.

    Laurie:WHAT?!? I may not be able to play an instrument but i damn sure can dance. *She gets up and begins to awkwardly sway her hips. Eli laughs and comes over to help her out with her dance moves. Everything is going fine until Laurie looks up into Eli's eyes and there is slight pause before she pulls away*

    Laurie: So um...yea the agenda. We are going to meet Travis for a session and then you have an in office visit with that Therapist that was highly recommended. After your done with that the camera crew wants to get footage of you training in the gym and for you to speak on your next match. That was really popular with the viewers last time. You ready?

    Black finishes buttoning up his shirt and nods his head. They head out to catch a cab to go to a studio to meet with Travis. They get to the address and its a very unassuming building you would think that it was a regular middle class apartment. They walk in and see people every where like its a partying. They asking around looking for Travis until he drunkenly comes out with arms spread out. He grabs them and hug them. Says how much he excited that they're here and hands them Heineken. He walks away into a crowd of people and Laurie chases after him. Eli wanders around drinking his Heineken when he gets a text on the phone that reads "you cant keep avoiding me". Eli stopped in his tracks. He looks up and the room starts to get small, everything gets loud he feels a panic attack coming. Decides to step outside to get a breath of fresh air. Laurie finds him outside.

    Laurie: Hey are you okay?

    Black: No Eli is not okay. Eli thought Eli was.Eli felt great this morning but i....Eli feels overwhelmed now. Eli does not know whats going on but is Travis ready so we can hurry this up?

    Laurie: Yea he is in the studio on the second floor. Waiting. He is a bit drunk and really high if you aren't comfortable we can cancel this.....

    Eli gets up and heads to Travis. They do some small talk and Eli apologizes about not showing up to the last session. Travis acts like its not a big deal. Eli plays the guitar for him for a song that he is doing and Travis loves it. They jam out for about an hour until Laurie signals its time for them to go. Eli and Travis embraces before he leaves. Eli and Laurie hop into another cab. They head over to therapist office. Eli enters on his own. Its a very fancy office with solid wood and gold trim finishes. It looks homely and sleek at the say time. The front desk person gives him paperwork to sign and once hes done the therapist comes over to him right away. Eli reads her name tag as they shake hands it says Shaniqua Jones. She is a fairly tall, curvy women with bob hair cut and golden brown skin. She has a smile to die for and Eli thinks he has instantly fallen in love. They enter her office and sit down. Eli observes the room and its very conservative. No personal pictures just her degrees and pictures of some of the famous people she has had as clients.

    Jones: So Eli Black. born may 26 1994, accomplish musician, painter and now wrestler. Very impressive for someone so young.

    Black: Thanks Eli appreciates the compliment.

    Jones:oh....okay...So what brings you in today?

    Black: Eli's agent Laurie told Eli that Eli must see a Therapist so here Eli is.......are you taking notes?

    Jones:*Looks up from her notepad* Yes i am Eli i like to take notes so i can go over them after each session. I hope that is not a problem. *Eli shakes his head* So your here because someone else is forcing you to be here? Why go through with it if you did not want therapy?

    Black: Well Laurie is a great partner. She has opened up opportunities for Eli that i could never dream of. She said if Eli did not go to therapy that she would quit. Eli cant afford to lose her so now we are here.

    Jones begin to ask him questions about his past, Where hes from, the environment he grew up in and what are his support systems. She hands him a piece of paper and tells him to multiple boxes and label them mind, body, spirit and support. So she begins to ask him to fill it out as if he was 10 years old. Eli fills it out and hands her the paper.

    Jones: hmmmmm I see you did not have much support at this age. Not much parental guidance or friends to confide in. Based on our conversation it seems like those things are carrying over into adult life. So i have an activity for you. I want you to join a social group. Whether its in person or online because i know you travel a lot. Meet people who don't work for or with you and try to create genuine bonds with them. I think it with be healthy for you.

    Black: So all Eli has to do is make friends with strangers and you will tell Laurie that Eli is okay?

    Jones: No not at all. This is just a first step Mr.Black, You have a lot of work to do from what i am hearing. You seemed a bit closed off so i want us to have multiple sessions to help you build trust with me so you can really open up. I know you wont be in Chicago much so we can do sessions through Zoom. My assistant will give you the information.

    Eli: Open up? Like what do you need to know?

    Jones: Why do you refer to yourself in third person?

    Eli:*sigh* Eli will see you next week....

    Eli shakes her hand and thanks her for her time. He goes to the front desk to get his discharge information before walking out. Laurie is waiting outside with concern in his eyes. He tells her the session went well and hes ready for the last stop of the day before they can go home. They hop into a cab and head to the gym where the camera crew is impatiently waiting for them to arrive. Its your standard plant fitness but Laurie some how got a section of it cleared out. Eli changes into his work out gear. The camera crew catches ever action as he doing, bur-pees, pull ups, lunges, and weight training. He is making it looks effortless and looks over to Laurie who has a big smile on his face which makes him work even harder. Once hes done the camera crew gets in close as they want him to speak on his upcoming match.

    Black:This Fight Night Eli has the biggest opportunity of Eli's career. Eli has wrestled all over the world in smaller companies with varying success but Eli's attention was never fully on the sport. Eli was young and dumb. Thought about having all the fun Eli could have while still trying to juggle all of Eli's passions. Partying, traveling, women. Eli is now a bit older and a lot more wiser and Eli still know how to have fun when given the chance. However this Fight Night is not about my past or even Eli's present. Its all about Eli's possible future. A future where Eli could headline Eli's first ever pay per view. A future where Eli could go one on one with the best this company has to offer. A future where Eli could see himself hold up a world title. Everyone watching must be like wow this guy is getting ahead of himself. You know Eli just might be. Its no secret that Eli has not been on some unstoppable run. It has been a rocky road to start. Some of it being not being good enough and some of it being bad luck. Well Eli has been training harder then ever. Trying to get into the best physical shape Eli has ever been in. Eli has been watching tape studying Eli's mistakes and watching as much tape of my opponents Eli can find. Lets talk about this match. A gauntlet match where Eli could possibly face off against 6 other men and women or only face off against one. It all depends on the number Eli draws but no matter what Eli draws Eli has been training Eli's body to go for the long haul. To go the distance in a long match.

    Eli his the treadmill before continuing

    Black: Lets talk about my opponents. Eli will start with Gerald Grayson. Eli has been keeping a eye on this guy. We both joined FWA around the same time. While Eli has had some bad breaks he has been the definition of bad break. Loss after loss after loss. Normal men would quit or even look dejected but he only seems to grow even hungrier. Leaving it all in the ring each time showing everyone he deserves to be in the same ring with them. Its inspiring really. Reminds of Eli a lot of a classic Hollywood tale of old where the underdog just keeps coming up short but keeps going full speed until he conquers the big bad. Well Eli would like to apologize from now. This is not Hollywood. The naive don't just push forward and win. They continue to fail until they get a reality check. Eli does not know when that will come for you but you fail again.

    Eli hops on a stationary bike and starts a slow peddle which he gradually goes into full speed

    Black: Orion Eli does not have much to say about you that Eli already hasn't said. Quiet, big, and strong but also has had some bad breaks as well. Last Fight Night we face off with an extra dance partner and you came up short. felt your strength but you're no immovable object and you will fail just like Gerald. Kayden Knox the man who has reinvented himself. You were the likable guy with a weird Schick but a long the way you lost your way and now you have been taking it out on everyone else. Loose cannon people are calling you. Eli can relate to that unstable temperament. To let some of the watchers in on some personal info Eli had a panic attack today because Eli could not handle the thought of all the fun Eli was going to have causing chaos in this match. That is the man you will be facing in that ring Kayden. Equally on the edge but way more skilled in the ring. Ashley Bell Eli couldn't find much on you. Your'e an unknown which Eli loves. Not knowing everything excites Eli.Like when Eli begins an abstract piece of art. Letting the strokes come to Eli. Eli will let your truth come Eli. We will handle if it comes to to that.

    Black goes over to the water fountain

    Black: Now onto to who Eli perceives as the biggest threats. Alyster Black and Dave Sullivan. The self proclaimed Black Jesus and King. I guess we can say you guys have one thing in common. You are both very full of yourselves. It is for good reason. Alyster you are a very accomplished performer. In CWA and now you are undefeated in FWA. One of those victories include a victory over Eli. That has been in Eli's head since the bell rang and the ref raised your hand. Eli has been patiently waiting on an opportunity to face you. Don't get eliminated before Eli gets in that ring Mr.Black. Eli owes you one. Now onto the the snobbiest, piece of shit person Eli have ever seen. You have all the talent in the world. Your'e work ethic is nearly unmatched and you have a story that could inspire many. That is always will be sullied because of the way you carry yourself. Treating men, women and even kids less then human. You are the worst representation of FWA we have and it is time you fall. Eli hopes to whatever deity exists that Eli face off against you. You are the bench mark and this will be my true test.

    The cameras stop rolling as Eli relaxes. They pack up and Laurie is talking about whats next. Eli hits the showers. Once he is done they all leave. Eli and Laurie take a cab together. Eli tells Laurie he would like her to start accompanying him to the ring but she says shes not sure she ready for that kind of spotlight as shes mainly been the women behind the man. He tells her to think about it and she says she will. Eli exists the cab and heads up to his room. He checks his phone as he has multiple missed calls and texts. He going through them as he sees a good night and good luck in your match text from Laurie. It makes him smile but it turn to a frown quickly as the next text is from that unsaved number that says i will see you soon. The scene ends with Eli chucking his phone and grabbing a drink.

  7. #7
    Friendship King

    Smooth Jazz Wolf's Avatar

    Join Date
    Apr 2011
    The Pillow Fort
    Rep Power
      Country                    Australia


    Chicago, Illinois

    It's somewhere within the vast hallways of the FWA Backstage Area, a mere hour before the show starts. Numerous backstage personnel are abuzz with activity, rushing to get everything sorted before the show airs live from United Center in Chicago, Illinois. The chaotic landscape of the backstage area is never more lively than it is just before the show, however there remained one area where the orderly quiet reigned supreme.

    The Private Locker Room, of a man who could be, should be, the FWA North American Champion. None other, than 'The Prodigy' Mike Parr.

    In sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle of the frantic FWA technicians a mere hall away, the action within Mike Parr's locker room was quiet, subdued. The man himself, the man who could be, should be, FWA North American Champion, sat on a bench in the middle of his locker room. Dressed in a sharp black suit - tailor made, of course - with a white dress suit, the black tie that would normally complete the ensemble hanging loosely between his fingertips, Mike Parr idly gazed into his mobile phone, the thin sneer of distaste gracing his lips as he read a text from Sean Hughes, telling him that he & Prototype were 'stuck in traffic.'

    Of course.

    So dedicated with typing a response to his Protege, the sound of his locker room door opening and closing barely reached Mike Parr's ears. Indeed, he didn't even realise he was no longer alone in his locker room until a vague humanoid shape entered his peripheral vision and sat down on the bench opposite him.

    "You took your time. Sean, I-" Mike Parr's words died in his mouth as his gaze flickered from his phone to the man opposite, rapidly realising that it was not Sean Hughes sitting beside him.

    "Evening, Mr. Parr. Nice locker room you got here."

    No, sitting beside him was perhaps the last person he would willingly welcome into his private locker room.

    Dressed in a pair of brown trousers, along with a tan dress shirt beneath an olive green waistcoat, that ugly moustache gracing his ugly face, Krash casually laid back against the wall as if he owned the godamned place. As if the nameplate on the door read 'Krash' and not 'Mike Parr.'

    His lips curling into a snarl, Mike Parr swiftly got to his feet, standing over the unwelcome intruder with a glare.

    Krash flippantly waved a hand. "Oh, there's no need to get up on my behalf, Mr. Parr. Whilst I appreciate the gesture, I get the feeling that it's not as genuine, nor as welcoming, as you intend it to be."

    "I don't intend it to be welcoming at all." Mike spat. "Either get out of my locker room right now, or I'll see to it you're carried out on a stretcher after I'm done with you."

    Krash eyed the fist being threateningly shook at him, with the black tie curled around it. "You know, I've gone face to face with dozens of people who have said those exact words. Hundreds, even. And yet, I think if push came to shove, you'd be more than capable of making good on that threat, Mr. Parr."

    Mike nodded proudly. "Damn right I am. The only reason why I'm even giving you the option of leaving with your nose attached to your face is-"

    "- Is because of the same reason why I'm sitting here in your locker room right now." Krash finished for him. "Let's be honest, neither of us want me to be here, but we both have a rather unique situation ahead of us. Therefore, for our shared interest, I'm going to ask for you to save the threats for another time."

    Seconds passed slowly. Mike's gaze hardened, his piercing blue eyes never leaving Krash's glimmering green ones, before he finally let out a grunt of acquiescence and sat back down. "You're either brave or stupid for coming in here and expecting me to play nice." He muttered, keeping his eyes on the unwelcome intruder in his locker room.

    "I'm told that the line between the two is rather frail at the best of times." Krash replied, forcing a smirk onto his face. "That being said, I'm no idiot, Mr. Parr. I'm well aware that someone like myself walking into your locker room and expecting not to walk out with a broken limb is akin to a deer wandering into lion's den and expecting to come out alive."

    "And yet, here you are." Mike retorted. An uneasy silence fell between the two, both of them wanting this awkward situation to be done with, yet neither sure how to proceed.

    Eventually, Krash cleared his throat, and nodded at Mike's shoulder. "How's the shoulder?"

    Mike coughed. "Fine." It was fine enough. Still struggled to raise it as high as the other, but it was fine enough. "How's the knee?"

    Krash shrugged. "Been worse." Technically, not a lie. That same knee had been worse, at one point, where an injury cost him a year of his career. Thankfully the swelling had died down, and while he wasn't quite as sharp on his feet as he would've liked, it wasn't too bad, all things considered.

    Mike Parr finally took his eyes off his - for lack of a better term - guest, and trailed across the walls behind him. "I've been thinking." He began. Krash raised an eyebrow, but if he had a retort in mind, he kept it to himself. After a second, Mike continued. "If any of the pissants in Dave Sullivan's gauntlet can score a fluke win over him and be given a championship match, then it stands to reason that if I get a victory over The Elite, then I'd be in contention for a tag title shot, right? At least moreso than The Wave & The Valanders, who outright LOST last week and are still being handed a title opportunity, right?"

    Krash seemed to consider this idea, eyebrows furrowing. "I can see the train of logic there, yes. Pity it would have to be with someone like me, right?"

    "Yeah. Pity." Mike snorted, for a brief second losing his steely composure, before regaining. "The Elite, though. For a duo who want to bring out the best in the tag division, they sure aren't giving anyone much motivation if simply showing up to cash in a paycheck and stare at the lights is enough to score you a title match on Pay-Per-View. What happened to people earning their spots?" He wondered aloud, before glancing at Krash once again. "Then again, I am talking to the same guy who wormed his way into a North American Title match without doing anything to earn it, and debuted with a world title shot only because he was friendly with Cyrus."

    "A world title shot I never asked for." Krash replied, with the tone of voice that said he had said this too many times.

    Mike shrugged. "And yet, you took it, regardless."

    "Would you turn it down?" Krash shot.

    "I wouldn't be in a position to have to turn it down, because unlike you, I would've earned it!" Mike shot right back, refusing to play along. "I've earned everything I've ever gotten in this world! You've said the right things to the right person enough times to build up a resume others would kill for! Next time you want to prattle on about 'heroes and villains', maybe check the background of your own resume to see if it suits your narrative."

    Krash clenched his jaw, and looked away. Mike smirked inwardly, knowing he had touched on a nerve, and sat back, relishing the victory, however small.

    After a few seconds of silence, Krash let out a forced sigh. "This is getting us nowhere."

    "Then let's go somewhere." Mike replied, waving a hand. "The Elite, Trevor Ocean and Noah Stocke. They came into this company holding those pieces of scrap they claim were the CWA tag team titles. You must've encountered them once or twice in that shithole of a fed."

    Krash narrowed his eyes, but didn't rise to the obvious bait. "We didn't exactly run in the same circles, but yes, I've crossed paths with them."

    Mike Parr nodded once, nodded twice. A second passed. Then another. Then a third, before he raised a hand. "And?"

    "And what?"

    "And what do these blowhards do that makes them any different from the leagues of would-be revolutionaries that speak of change then curl up between their legs when it doesn't happen instantly?"

    Krash paused, curling his lip, as he chose the right words. Mike tapped a finger against the bench impatiently, quietly hurrying him on.

    "You consider yourself to be a prodigy, correct?" Krash eventually answered, looking somewhere above and to the left of Mike. "Not a boastful nickname, someone who genuinely excels at the wrestling game, right?"

    Mike waved a hand, as if brandishing his own list of accomplishments and accolades. "My track record speaks for itself."

    "Mmm. So does The Elite's. They're a lot like you, Mr. Parr. The name they've given themselves isn't some sort of embellished statement of superiority. It's because they genuinely believe they're among the very best when it comes to tag team excellence, chemistry, experience, and talent, a belief that is very, very well earned."

    "Maybe it was well-earned in the graveyard that was CWA, but this is FWA. Things are different. Things matter."

    Krash winced, but again, let the bait go untaken. "Casually dismissing their reputation like that will be the reason why you'll end this night face-down on the mat, wondering how they snatched a victory from you. Obviously, you'll blame me, but the truth is that when it mattered most, you took 'The Elite' as a name a dropout highschooler calls himself to make up for his inferiority complex, and not a warning that if you're not performing up to their standard, you'll be eating dirt with everyone else who underestimated them."

    Mike exhaled, rolling his eyes. "Noted. So, just so I'm clear, I'm being forced to team with the likes of you, against a team who you claim is in the top tier in terms of talent, experience, and chemistry. I'm not sure about you, but I have no intention of being used as some sort of momentum building device for a cheap imitation of the New Breed."

    "And luckily for you, that's where I come in." Krash's eyes refocused themselves onto Mike's, glimmering green onto bright blue. "Mr. Parr, I'm not sure whether you know this about me, but when it comes to tag teams? I'm a living god. Every person I tag with, I make it work. I strike gold. I create chemistry where there is none. I gave an ageing veteran an extra mark on his championship scoreboard all by myself. I've stood next to someone who was going to challenge for my world title, a man who made it abundantly clear how little regard he had for my own being, and by the end of that night he and I were tag champions. I took a man I just met all the way to the finals of a tag tournament, a tag tournament NAMED after me, for christsake! Mike, I'm a five time tag team champion with four different partners, all of whom have wanted me dead at one point in their careers." Krash raised a hand and studied his fingernails, casual and smug, for the first time since entering Mike's locker room. "I'm not sure how to say this, but when it comes to tag team wrestling? I'm kind of a pro at it."

    Mike Parr frowned, tapping a hand against the bench, deep in thought. Seconds passed, before Krash took the initiative, and leaned forward to grasp at Mike's free hand with his own.

    "Mr. Parr, I'm not asking that we suddenly forget our issues in light of what will likely be a one-off tag match booked on a whim by a Lord of Chaos. I'm optimistic, not stupid." A toothy grin, a self-aware chuckle. "All I'm asking, is that for one night, one match, you and I try not to beat each other bloody. That's it. We don't have to be friends - we don't even have to be friendly - but we can at least be professional about it. Right?"

    Mike's gaze flickered from Krash's expression, the Heartbeat plainly wanting to find some semblance of trust, some bridge between them they wouldn't instantly burn, to his hand, holding Mike's own as if it meant more than he could ever know.

    "Professional, huh?" Mike finally replied, as he withdrew his hand. "Yeah, alright. I can play nice for one night. But the second that bell rings and my hand is raised in victory, that's it. You're in my sights again, and no amount of impromptu teamups can stop that."

    Unsurprising, Krash merely shrugged. "Tsk, Mr. Parr. At this point, why would I expect anything less?" And straightening his own tie, Krash got to his feet, and began to head for the door.

    "Hold on." Mike demanded, rising to his feet. "Are we not going to address the elephant in the room?"

    One hand on the doorknob, Krash turned back at Mike and raised an eyebrow. "Is it your suit? It's a very nice suit, I'll admit that. I prefer a waistcoat over a full suit, but-"

    "No, it's not my suit." Mike said, gritting his teeth. "What about my North American Championship?"

    Krash let out a sigh, and seemed to deflate slightly. "Ah. I was wondering when, if at all, you'd want to broach that subject. Look, Mr. Parr, I-" He cut himself off, and blinked twice, before reeling back towards Mike. "Hold the phone. Your North American Championship?"

    "Yeah, mine." Mike nodded, stepping forward. "Remember? I kicked your ass all through that cage, it's mine. Where is it?"

    "I don't recall a winner being announced. Besides, I haven't seen it. I assume Mr. Blackbird or one of his assistants took it in light of the inconclusive finish to our cage match."

    Mike scoffed. "There's no 'inconclusive' about it. I hit the ground first. I won."

    Now it was Krash's turn to frown, and step forward. "You didn't win, you escaped, and only because your toady, Mr. Hughes-"

    "Excuses, excuses. I'd expect a man who's trying to trick people into thinking that he's a hero would own up to his own failures, but I guess that wouldn't fit your narrative, would it?"

    Finally, the bait was too much, and Krash finally bit back, storming back to Mike Parr, fuming. "I beg your pardon?"

    "Is there a problem in here?"

    Mike Parr had a front row seat as the expression on Krash's face switched from anger, to trepidation, to caution - and maybe a flicker of fear - as he realised the door at opened behind him as two more men entered: The Protege & The Prototype. It was positively enthralling watching Krash's face collapse as all the color drained from him. As Krash turned his head towards the newcomers, realising very quickly that he was surrounded, Mike Parr threw an arm - his right arm, his left would throb with pain over such a manufacturer - around Krash's shoulders, and smirked at the New Breed. "Nah. No problem at all. Our very good friend Mr. Krash here was just leaving. Isn't that right?"

    Krash's gaze jumped from the muscular Prototype, to the underhanded Protege, then back to the Prodigy, in the span of a second. Outnumbered, outgunned. Mike Parr held the cards in this situation, a fact Krash rapidly realised. "Yeah. That's right." He spat, making sure to stare directly at Sean Hughes as he did so.

    Mike Parr's hand curled around the tie Krash was wearing, and he yanked the maybe champion, maybe not, face-to-face. "This war of ours isn't over, Krash." He whispered into his ear. "This truce isn't going to last either. One night, one match, and that's it. I would say that you should watch your back, but there's no need to when I'll be there to watch it for you, right?" The icy venom in Mike Parr's words sent a chill down Krash's spine, as Mike finally let go of his rival and pushed him towards the door.

    For the briefest of moments, Krash considered throwing one last witty retort at Mike Parr, something to make him stop in his tracks and rethink everything. But, with both Prototype & Protege staring a hole into his soul, Krash let it slide, and squeezed between Prototype & Protege, out into the busy hallways outside Mike Parr's locker room. The door swung shut behind him, the voices of Mike Parr & Sean Hughes becoming lost behind the wood.

    Krash let out a shaky, ragged breath. Like a deer who had escaped from a pack of lions, knowing too well that he had only delayed the inevitable. That the jaws of death were playing with him, and that sooner or later, they'd close around his throat for good.

    He could only hope that Mike Parr's acceptance of a truce, however temporary, was genuine. At the very least up until the match finished. Anything after that, he was expecting. He might not be able to handle it, per se, but he'd be expecting it.

    During the match, though?

    That's the big question.

    And so, with his mind not settled at all after his impromptu meeting with Mike Parr, Krash began to walk down the hallways of the backstage area, trying very hard and subsequently failing to mask his limp.


    I'm not good at signatures.

  8. #8
    Squash Fodder

    Join Date
    Jul 2015
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    Rod Sterling: This ... this is chaos. I can't recall ANYTHING quite like this. I think ... I think .. Mike Parr's feet hit first. But ... there hasn't been any announcement!

    Christian Quinn: Could they give Krash the win based off Sean Hughes' interference?! They couldn't, right?!

    Both competitors believe they won the match, and suddenly the FWA Fight Night logo appears in the corner of the screen. The last visual we get is "The Prodigy" Mike Parr with his arms in the air, asking "Where is the title?", and Krash laying on the ground near the entrance rampway, asking the nearest person "Who has my championship? Where is it?"


    Parr roars as he gingerly makes his way back to his feet, the operative word in that sentence being gingerly. He rests against the barricade with fans in the front row seat giving him immediate face to face feedback on just how displeased they are with his conduct….at least that’s putting it nicely. As Mike leans down against said barricade, he recoils immediately in pain having temporarily forgotten about his shoulder which is in agony. Already, despite the cage not having being dismantled, he is preparing to rue the fact that the shoulder injury hampered his chances of climbing the cage for a win. Using his good arm, he wipes the sweat from his brow before turning and facing one of the officials on the outside of the ring.


    Mike roars with such ferocity that spit goes flying far beyond the social distancing measures currently mandated in some parts of the world. As he backs away from the approaching Parr, the official tries to offer some form of explanation to him.

    “We…err...I…errr….we can’t do that right now.”

    You can imagine the look on his face, contorted with a mixture of disbelief and confusion, supplemented with a healthy dose of rage. The pace of his footwork increases despite how fatigued he currently is as he approaches the official, who in a panic, trips over one of the camera wires and falls crashes to the ground, allowing Mike the chance to get to him. Parr grabs him by the collar as he crouches down over him.

    “You can’t do it right now??”

    “Please Mike, let me go, you know you can’t….”

    “Did my feet touch the floor first?”

    The official, frozen in fear of what might come, sort of mumbles but does not offer a definitive answer.


    Mike again roars, so loudly, that it’s possible that those in the second tier of seating may have heard him as they continue to file out of the arena at the conclusion of Fight Night. Other officials and backstage workers have now made their way to the ringside area and have started to plead with Prodigy to let go of their co-worker, but Parr’s attention has turned to the ramp way. Admittedly, yes, he still has both hands clenching the officials’ shirt and has him teetering off of the ground, but his focus has shifted to the former? North American Champion. Who really knows at this point.

    “It’s simple. Get the title and give it to me.”

    Krash seems to be adopting the more reserved approach, hoping that it will serve for better results than Prodigy’s full blown attack strategy. Krash continues to remonstrate with the official as he limps up the ramp to the backstage area, like everyone else he is confused as to the lack of outcome to the match. He believes, with some conviction, that he was the rightful winner. But so does Parr, who finally drops the official back to the ground and without so much as giving anyone a nod of acknowledgement, he navigates his way around the ring and the cage and follows Krash back up the ramp to the backstage area, almost fixated with following his rival. He swoops the black curtain out of his face and is suddenly confronted with a relatively deserted backstage area, most have cleared out following the conclusion of the show. What catches Parr’s attention, however, is one of the monitor’s that are displaying content currently being filmed for the post Fight Night digital extra on the website. There are some of the FWA top brass as well as two of the match officials for the night huddled together having what could best be described as a heated conversation. Mike closes in on the monitor, as if he will be able to eavesdrop on the conversation when in reality there is no audio, before suddenly the screen goes black. He pivots on his position and is suddenly face to face with one of the technical crew, putting away the equipment, who has just realized what he has done.
    He is spared, mercifully, by the emergency of Katie-Lynn Goldsmith. Under normal circumstances, Mike would loathe to tolerate any form of interview for social media platforms, however, this isn’t quite normal circumstances.

    “Mike, do you have a minute for out post Fight ***---“

    “A minute? I’ve got all the time in the world you need to discuss the whereabouts of my North American Championship Katie. Your guys are filming yeah?”

    She nods in affirmation, slightly puzzled as it’s usually like pulling teeth to get Mike to give up some time.

    “OK then so let me preempt your first question. Yes, I’m delighted to be standing here as your new North American Champion. I lost at Back in Business, and whilst tonight won’t quite make up for that disappointment, at least now the continent has a champion that it can be proud of again. Sure, maybe not everyone’s cup of tea and certainly not everyone’s preferred option, but I’m the champion that you all need if not the champion that you all want. And I’ve learned to accept that.”

    Katie-Lynn looks hesitant, but to her credit takes a deep breath before proceeding as planned.

    “Well breaking news from the FWA officials is that whilst no decision has been reached on the outcome of the match, they do have something in mind for next Fig—“

    “I couldn’t give a shit what they have planned for next Fight Night unless it’s my championship celebration. What do you mean they couldn’t reach an outcome on the match? That match had no pinfalls or submissions, LITERALLY the only job that the referees out there had was to determine who’s feet touched the floor first. That’s it. Simple. And you know, I know, the world knows that my feet were on the mat before Krash’s. There isn’t a debate about that, it is fact. So why don’t’ you take your pretty little head and go use those journalistic skills to work out who has my title and who’s incapable of watching some footage to determine who won the match?”

    Despite his patronizing nature, she recognizes that he has a valid point and presses on with the hope of getting some golden content for the FWA post-show.

    “I know you feel like you are the rightful winner, but a quick glance at the instant reaction on social media tells me that not everyone in the FWA fanbase agrees with that assessment?”

    Mike shakes his head dismissively, and tries to tentatively stretch out his shoulder that is still giving him a problem, before addressing her concerns.

    “Any idiot with access to social media isn’t paid to enforce the rules of that match. The rules are simple. You know what? I’m getting fairly sick of this, my moment was taken from me. The end of Fight Night should’ve been me holding that championship in the air with my left arm. Why my left arm? Because the right one is completely screwed because of the sacrifice that I made inside of that cage to win that championship that is being withheld from me. And somehow, I’m supposed to be OK with that, I’m supposed to play your games and wait until the next week of Fight Night to what? To find out that we are going to sit down and talk about the match, that we are going to determine who the better man is? No. Screw that shit. I’m done with it all. Maybe Jack, the 42 year old troll on Twitter has an idea about who the North American Champion should be, maybe we should fly him in to get his viewpoint on the match since we seemingly don’t have anyone capable within this company of enforcing the clear rules of the match. That is, if Jack has the time in between touching himself and getting in bed with his sister to take the trip.”

    Katie-Lynn casts a knowing, sideways glance at her camera crew that says, without words, that they’ll have to cut that from their interview before posting.

    “So you know what I’m going to do here? I’m going to collect my gear and I’m going to go home and wait until somebody sends me the championship belt. I’m not going to talk about it, not going to entertain anything else. Particularly Krash, I’m done with him. I’ve beaten him, there’s nothing left to prove, we can all move on with our lives. The next time I see him will be ---“

    Parr suddenly stops in his tracks as appearing behind Katie-Lynn is the aforementioned Krash. He has an ice pack stapped to his leg to try and reduce the swelling from some of the damage done in that match, although he looks less than impressed.

    “I’m guessing you haven’t let her get a word in to tell you, did you?” Krash states, with a tone that wouldn’t be out of place for someone about to tell you that someone has died. He is right, though, Mike has absolutely no idea what he is talking about. Thoughts start to run through his head, namely, why would Krash be here if the outcome was that Parr is the new champion but equally, why would he be so down if the decision was in fact that he was keeping the title?

    “They pay to listen to me, not her. What could she possibly know that would be of any interest to me whatsoever?” Mike scoffs, casting his glance now towards Katie-Lynn, who is about to speak before Krash interjects once more.

    “Next week, we are facing The Elite.”

    We? Mike tries to process that for a second. When he said we, he surely wasn’t referring to him. But then again, he was hardly referring to Katie-Lynn. So instead of asking the question of “We?” he arrives at another question that starts with the letter W.


    A good question in spite of its simplicity. To who’s benefit would this be, amidst all the confusion about the outcome of the match, why would your next course of action be to make the two men that nearly crippled each other tag team partners. Krash doesn’t know either, and shrugs his shoulders in response, a luxury Mike doesn’t have given the injuries sustained in the cage.

    “Why would I waste my time facing those guys, why would I do so teaming with you? I don’t have the want or the need to carry your dead weight on my back. I am not teaming with HIM.”

    A rhetorical question if there ever was one. The “him” was directed towards Katie-Lynn, as if she is the decision maker in the entire process.

    “Ignoring the obvious mistruths, I’m not exactly thrilled about the prospect of having to rely on you either.”

    Frustrated beyond what you could believe, Mike’s eyes dart between Katie-Lynn and Krash, too many thoughts running through his head to try and process one coherent stream of sentences together. So, in a surprising turn of events, he goes to take his leave from the situation.

  9. #9
    creatively drained artist
    Hermes's Avatar

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    Sep 2014
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      Country                    Turkey


    Nova Diamond proudly presents:

    In his current situation, Nova remembers hearing a saying in another language about how the fur shops would be the only place foxes could wander around. He remembers it being about always returning to the same place despite everything. He cannot agree with it enough as his butt meets the familiar brown leather couch and his nose is attacked by the familiar but offensive scent of the air freshener. Nova hated the smell of lavender, another opinion he would gladly and loudly vocalize if he were to be asked about it. He was once again surrounded by familiar but ugly colour of beige as the familiar walls seemed to trap him in once again. And lastly, Nova meets the harsh brown eyes of one Atticus Henley, staring back at him properly for the first time since the conclusion of Back In Business.

    Yes, Nova Diamond was back in Attticus’ office. The fox had returned to the fur shop once again after a call from the shopkeeper. To the right of Atticus, stands his right-hand man Jason Highlander with some sheets next to him displaying some graphs, with him going through them to get the right sheet from the dozens. After Jason finally finds it, he points to it before looking at Nova.

    “And these are the stats from all social medias like Twitter, Instagram and many more. If you look at the left side, you will see the stats about yourself during the timeline between Carnal Contendership and Back In Business. And at the right side stands the same stats but they are after Back In Business. Once more, you can see there are much more interactions and conversations, or Google searches about you in the left with your name being comparable to the ones like Gabrielle or Cyrus Truth…”

    Nova tries his best not to roll his eyes at the statement, he does not want to explode to Atticus and Highlander about how he beat both Gabrielle or Cyrus, nor does he want to argue about anything at the moment, knowing a non-confrontational approach would lead to the least amount of trouble and trouble is the last thing Nova wants ever since what happened at the last time he was in Atticus’ office. The two had some phone calls after that, apologies were made, the bridges had been rebuilt but it was still for the best to be safe than sorry, especially when dealing with someone who is your main sponsor and a possible father-in-law.

    “…and at the right side, we can once again see that the stats had seen a rapid decline. I have also shown a similar pattern in profits of your merchandise and I believe we have seen the same pattern in much more fields regarding you.”

    Jason then looks at Atticus, which nods at him before turning to Nova.

    “So, you know what this means, Nova?”

    Nova cannot help but let out a chuckle at that point, all while rubbing the bridge of his nose, aware of the fact that any discussion about Back In Business would always lead to the same thing.

    “Yes, yes, I do know. That I fucked up, of course. I should’ve not used those handcuffs and instead tried to finish the job first and yadda yadda… With all due respect, I know that already since everyone seems to love to remind it to me. Even though the last person to remind me of this fell before my feet the last time I saw hi-“


    The answer from Atticus comes very sharp, sharp enough to cut Nova’s rant which was about to turn into a tirade if it hadn’t been cut.

    “Fuck the handcuffs, I don’t give a shit about that. What I’m trying to say is that you’re losing popularity and it is bad for our business.”

    Nova leans back into his chair, clearly relieved that he wasn’t going to have that discussion again with yet another person.

    “So, Nova, we had a little meeting with some directors and come up with something while we continue to work on our marketing strategy for you. We had arranged a little contest with a magazine. It’s a simple one, they have to write letters about how much of a Nova Diamond fan they are and some shit like that. The reason I had called you here today is that the reward the winner of this contest would get is basically: One day with Nova Diamond. And our lucky winner will meet you very shortly.”

    Nova raises one eyebrow and just stares at Atticus.

    “And you had decided to tell us nothing about this until the day I had to spend with ‘my biggest fan’?”

    “Please, if I had told you about it sooner, you would’ve told my daughter about this and she would spam my phone with ‘how dare you?’s and much more vulgar stuff than that, bitching about how some weird fangirl thirsting over you would get to spend one day with her dream guy and I had allowed her to do so. Don’t deny that, you also know that she would’ve done that.”

    Nova instantly opens his mouth to say something and defend Min-Su, but shortly realizes he really cannot argue with what Atticus had just said and concedes defeat, closing his lips together before letting out another chuckle. He knows one of the biggest demographics in his fandom are girls and he especially knows how his girlfriend would behave.

    “And that’s why I love her, I suppose.”

    Nova proclaims before getting up from the leather couch and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

    “Okay, if you think it is going to help my popularity, then yeah, I’ll do it, I’ll show them the best day of their life. When and where do I meet with ‘my biggest fan’, then?”

    His question is met by Atticus checking his watch before shooting a glare at Jason who is busy with picking up all of his sheets now that his psuedo-presentation is over. Jason sighs before answering.

    “It should be in a few minutes, we asked the winner to come here to meet you before you pick them up to spend the day with them.”


    Nova nods again before turning his back on the two and getting out of his office…only to instantly come face to face with a short-haired blonde woman who seems to be in her early thirties. Nova barely manages to stop himself from crashing into her.

    “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

    “Please, don’t be. I should’ve been more careful when opening the door, it’s all on me.”

    “By the way, you don’t happen to be the FWA wrestler Nova Diamond, do you?”

    Nova smiles at the woman upon hearing the question he is very used to hear at this point of his career despite his supposed ‘declining popularity’.

    “I do happen to be Nova Diamond, yes.”

    Nova offers the woman his hand, which she takes. Since she was in front of Atticus’ office and missed the ‘target demographic’ by just a few years, he assumed she was the contest winner and the woman Min-Su would probably feel ‘threatened’ by.

    “And you? Should I assume you’re the contest winner? The one who was about getting to spend the day with me?”

    The woman starts to laugh.

    “No, no! You’ll probably meet your contest winner now, though. The magazine told us to wait here for you.”

    Instantly after the woman says that, the door of the nearest men’s restroom opens and out comes a boy who seems to be a pre-teen.

    “Billy! Come here!”

    The woman shouts and the boy turns his head at the direction of her and Nova. His eyes instantly grow and he starts to run, jumping at the arms of the woman.

    “Oh my god! It’s actually you…Nova…Mr. Diamond…Mr. Nova…I don’t know what to say! My name is Billy!”

    Nova is surprised by the things are turning out and he can’t tell if it’s a pleasant surprise or a confusing one. Still, one must remain calm and collected when dealing with fans, even if they are pre-teens who claim to be your biggest fan.

    “Just Nova is fine.”

    Nova smiles at the kid while offering his hand.

    “Nice to meet you Billy, I would introduce myself too but I suppose my biggest fan already knows who I am, right?”

    The kid instantly takes Nova’s hand with two hands, shaking it with all his might. Nova chuckles again.

    “Yes, I know who you are! I watched all your matches in FWA…and some matches before that too.”

    “That’s good to know, Billy.”

    “Well, it seems that you two will get along swimmingly.”

    The woman says cheerfully before grabbing Billy by his arm, turning him to her and looking at his eyes.

    “Okay Billy, I want you to play nice, and treat Mr. Diamond very well, okay?”

    Billy shakes his head excitedly.

    “Good. Don’t cause him any trouble. And most importantly: Have fun!”

    Billy shakes his head again even more excitedly.

    “Okay, mother!”

    The woman then turns to Nova.

    “I’ll promise you’ll show him a nice time, Mr. Diamond.”

    “Have no doubt that I will.”

    “Good. Please take care of him well. You know they say you should never meet your idols, but I hope this won’t hold up today. My son, for some reason, really likes you, and I really want this to remain after this day. Can I trust you enough for this, Mr. Diamond?”

    The serious tone this conversation had taken seems to startle Nova a little bit, but regardless, he gives the mother a confident grin and a confident smile.

    “Most definitely. Leave little Billy to me and enjoy your day. I’ll make an even bigger fan out of him, I promise.”

    “Good. Take care, you two.”

    Billy’s mother turns to Billy again and the two resume to talk for a while and Nova takes this chance to get his phone and text Min-Su.

    ‘Hope you’re ready….we’ll be babysitting today.’

    Some time pass after the text is sent and Min-Su is still confused about what Nova meant by it. She is still in her PJ’s, eating some snacks while laying in the couch, waiting for Nova to come back from a meeting with her dad. She wondered if the babysitting thing was about that meeting, but she could reach no conclusion without any further information. But before she can dive deeper into her own thoughts, there is a knock on their door. She puts on her slippers quickly and rushes to the door before opening it. And after she does, a little kid who seems to be no older than 11 instantly sprints inside before jumping onto the nearest couch.


    Nova says with a facial expression that could be intrepreted as ‘yeah, that’s a thing’. Min-Su grabs him by the wrist and closes the door before the two make their way to the couch where the kid is still laying.

    “So, this is my home, Billy. Hope you like it.”

    “Like it? Nova, this is awesome! Is this what being a professional wrestler like? Driving awesome cars and living in awesome houses! And oh, who’s that lady? Is she your girlfriend?”

    Min-Su smiles like a cheshire cat before nodding.

    “Well, yes. Billy, this is Min-Su, my girlfriend. And Min-Su…this is Billy. It’s a long story. Why don’t we three sit down?”

    Nova says before sitting next to Billy. Soon Min-Su does the same.

    “Well, Mr. Henley and a magazine arranged a contest where the winner would get to spend a day with me, and Billy here, won that contest. And yeah, from what I can tell, he seems to be my biggest fan. Hope you two get along and don’t compete for the title of who my biggest fan is.”

    Nova lets out an awkward laugh but thankfully that awkward atmosphere is broken when Billy finds yet another thing to distract himself when he sees the gigantic TV on the living room.

    “That TV is huge!”

    More time had passed inside the house with Billy finding things to gush over and talking about how ‘awesome’ they are, then Billy bombarding Nova (and even Min-Su sometimes) with lots of questions about lots of things. Nova didn’t know why the boy asked the obvious question about his favourite colour and then shouted ‘I knew it!’ after he answered with the obvious ‘violet’. But still, he never complained. The kid could be a little annoying, but he was, for some reason, one of his biggest fans, so Nova answered everything he could. The kid learned how Nova’s favourite match of all time was his victory against Gabrielle, how Nova knew Kevin Cromwell way before FWA, how Nova was still the nGw Openweight Champion. Some questions were more private though -some like how he and Min-Su met or why Min-Su didn’t speak at all-, and Nova still did his best to politely tell the kid that those questions were indeed private matters to him, which to his credit, the boy apologised every time. It wasn’t half as bad as Nova thought it would be. They even ended up playing some FWA 2K20 on Nova’s PlayStation 4. The kid even complained about how Nova’s overall was too low after picking him, which Nova laughed and agreed before picking Kevin Cromwell (who was added by DLC) and losing on purpose.

    The day continued with Nova and Min-Su taking Billy outside to a nearby amusement park where they tried lots of rides. Nova even got the confirmation that it was the best day of Billy’s life, multiple times. After he bought him an ice cream, they got out of the amusement park to get to a pizzeria where Nova promised to bring the kid while they were in the bumper cars.

    They were now sitting on the tables and waiting for their orders.

    “So, kid, you had asked me a lot today. It would be only one fair if I asked you a question now:”

    The kid looked confused but Nova was as stern as ever when he told that.

    “S-sure, you can ask me anything and I would answer truthfully!”

    “Good. Here’s the question, then: Why are you MY biggest fan? Why not somebody like Krash or Golden? Please don’t take it like I don’t appreciate you being such a fan, Billy, I really do, but I guess I’m just curious.”

    Nova could feel Min-Su’s stare on him, the usual stare whenever he would go on a rant that even has the slightest hint of self-doubt. He didn’t care though, he felt like he needed to ask that question, to know why a kid just in his pre-teens would such a big fan of someone with Nova’s character, which at times were show no quality that would suggest it was acceptable for children to be a fan of something like that.

    “Because…you know…I wasn’t really a role model material during a lot of times in my career. I’ve done things and you know them as well, you say you watched my every match. I lost my temper during one match and attacked my opponent so hard that I got disqualified once, and after that, I didn’t stop, I kneed her in the face until she got a concussion. I mocked people, belittled them, bullied them by dragging their name through the mud even when they didn’t have to do anything with me at that moment. I lied. I cheated. I stole. I stabbed people in the back. I harmed other people’s possessions because I didn’t like them. That last one even exploded in my face. So why, Billy, why you are the biggest fan of such a person like that? Why not Krash, why not Cyrus, why not Golden, why not Gabrielle?”

    Nova’s question ends just before the pizzas are served to the trio. Billy falls silent, unable to answer for a few seconds. Nova sights.

    “…I’m sorry, Billy. I guess it was too sudden and heavy fo-“

    “…you’re right. What I watched you do wasn’t nice things to do. All the things you just said, they weren’t nice things, not at all! But…when I was even younger, my mother would always tell me about…my father. My father would not always make the right choices, my father had flaws but deep inside my mother knew he loved her and he was a good person who were guided by his flaws. But my mother would tell that he eventually found the right path and made the right choice in the end, that he was really a good person. Those stories…always affected me….”

    Billy looked like he was nearly about to cry. Nova’s first thought was that if Billy were to cry, his day would suddenly go from best to worst after getting confronted out by his idol like. But suddenly, Nova started to feel bad for another reason, not just because of commercial purposes and the harm that would be done to his reputation if the word got out that he had made his biggest fan cry like that.

    “And whenever I turned on the television and saw…you…and you doing things…I felt like you were similar. I continued to watch you and it was just like the story. You were guided by your flaws but you are a good person! I guess…you were for that reason…that special person…and you will make the right choice in the end too! I believe in you! I wouldn’t be your biggest fan if I didn’t believe that!”

    It was a miracle Billy managed to finish that without crying, but he managed, and he even smiled. Nova remained…speechless, while Min-Su was both shocked and overjoyed by this revelation.

    “Woah…that…was the highest praise I ever got in a long time. Thanks Billy, it…means a lot.”

    The best day in Billy’s life eventually came to an end when Nova, Min-Su, Billy and Billy’s mother met up in the place where his mother was supposed to pick Billy up. Billy instantly ran to his mother and hugged her while Nova took out a marker and some photos from a bag in his car.

    “So, how was it, Billy? Did you have fun?”

    “It was the best day of my life mom! Nova is awesome!”

    “Well, that’s excellent to hear!”

    Their conversation continued while Nova signed all of the pictures with the marker before walking up to Billy and her mom.

    “Here, I think you should have these.”

    Nova handed Billy all the signed pictures. While Billy was busy picking them up, Nova softly grabbed the kid’s shirt before signing it too.

    “It…was the best day for me too…at least best day in a very long time.”

    Nova smiled genuinely to him and his mother while scratching his nose.

    “Thanks Nova….for giving my son an experience he will never forget..”

    The mother then turns to her child.

    “Get in the car, sweetie.”

    Billy obeys, not feeling rebellious at all after the wonderful day he had experienced. After Billy was in the car and could not hear them, Nova put one hand on the mother’s shoulder.

    “Sorry about your husband.”

    The mother looked very surprised upon hearing that.

    “Where did you know…did Billy tell you?”

    Nova just nods before the mother sighs.

    “Of course he did. Thank you again, Nova. I guess you really are the good person Billy always says you are whenever I watch him watch you on television. Take care…and know that you have gained yourself one new big fan.”

    The mother smirks before turning away and getting into her car, riding away from the place as Nova watches them go, his hands in his pockets while Min-Su slightly slaps his back. Nova turns to his girlfriend again, who put sup her phone for him to see.

    ‘You know, seeing you take care of a kid like that made me feel certain things…’

    Min-Su could not help but snicker while showing the text to Nova, who also chuckled as well before his expression turned a little more melancholic.

    “Don’t expect me to do this on a regular basis any time soon. Even a day with one was exhausting, physically, mentally and emotionally. No, not while I’m still wrestling.”

    Min-Su shot a glare to him which indicated she was just joking, but she nodded as well, understanding his reasoning. But that did not seem to stop Nova from still talking about the topic.

    “Being a parent and a wrestler at the same time…not something I can do. There are people who manage to do that, all glory to them, I suppose…but honestly, no, not for me. I don’t want my family to deal with the mood swings or the unpredictable situations this job may bring. At least not any children I might have. And that is the best case scenario, honestly. At worst, what happens if they were exposed to the dirty side of what I do, Min-Su? Have you ever thought about that? My opponents targeting them, using them to gain leverage over me, threatening them to get to me. You and I, we both know that we had to deal with enough family drama inside the four ropes for a lifetime. I’ve fought with my own sister over this, over you, over us. That was the farthest I were ever willing to go. Do I look like someone who would take pleasure in using my own children in wrestling issues, to hurt an opponent maybe?”

    Nova sits at the nearest bank he can find, taking his head between his two hands. Min-Su quickly sits next to him.

    ‘It seems that the things Billy said about his father had gotten to you. Let’s head back home, it’ll be much clearer once we get home.’

    Nova smiles again, the hint of melancholy still hidden inside that simle.

    “Probably. But lately, nothing feels clear. Everything seems both simple and compliacted at the same time. For the first time in a very long time, I am…without purpose. Where do I go from here? What do I do? I beat Donovan Moore, I beat the shell that were formerly known as Cyrus Truth…what now? Beating Gabrielle again? Why? What would that prove? I tossed her out of the ring to win the Carnal Contendership. Then I beat her one-on-one, fair and square. Why do I even have a match against her when the Golden Opportunity thing she won from the Elimination Chamber match isn’t even on the line? Did Gabrielle request that match specifically to the management because she wants her win back, now that I’m in a worse place than I was when I beat her. Does she also want to kick me while I’m down, just like Cyrus? Nothing feels clear. So many questions, but no answers. And it drives me crazy? Tell me, Min-Su, what happens now?”

    The response came quick after the little sounds of fingers tapping the screen of her phone.

    ‘I think you just need to focus on what they put in front of you. The sun will shine on us again, Nova, I promise you. Our fight isn’t over yet.’

    After he finishes reading it, he pulls Min-Su close to him, pressing her head to his chest.

    “That would be the simplest thing to do…also the most logical thing. If everything were to suddenly clear up right now, I’m sure I would see Gabrielle in front of me, waiting me in the ring for a rematch, to get her glory back from the last time. Because that’s the thing I have to deal with it first. Now that I’m not undefeated anymore, not the golden boy who was ‘destined to dethrone the king’ anymore, the pretenders that I beat before will all try to get back at me to save face. And I will welcome them all, welcome all of their attempts to get back at me. Because they think I’m not the same Nova Diamond anymore after that loss. They think that I changed for the worse, that I lost my rhythm even after I proved that I would continue on my path and prove it by beating Moore and Cyrus. I know for a fact that Gabrielle will come into that ring expecting a much easier fight that she got from me before. She would come down to the ring, expecting a victory against the man she could not clinch a victory over whenever she was in the same ring with him. But no, I do not intend to make it easy for her. I do not intend to lay down for her so she can get her victory and put me in her past like I’m some sort of a name to be crossed off from her list. Because she has to do so much more than that to get rid of my name. She has to do more than to beat me, she has to put me away, lock me down, somehow get rid of me completely to leave this in her past. I’m Nova Diamond, Min-Su, you and I, we both damn well know that the name can never be erased that easily. Even after she takes the title off from Sullivan, and that is still an uncertainty, she knows she will eventually face me again. She knows that her Golden Opportunity has a huge asterisk next to it.

    Because I wasn’t even in the damn match! They rewarded people who managed to last to the final stages of Carnal Contendership with an Elimination Chamber match but they didn’t do shit for the man that eventually won the goddamn match in the first place. The people I beat back then all faced each other in the name of a golden opportunity while I was in the mid-card, wrestling Donovan Moore for some reason. And that is that asterisk in Gabrielle’s opportunity. She knows she couldn’t have taken that opportunity if I had been in that chamber instead of somebody like Kayden Knox who did nothing but to cry about himself and blame imaginary cliques for his losses. But even, even if Gabrielle manages to find it in herself to beat me in the ring, which I certainly won’t make it easy for her, the asterisk will remain. She can’t get rid of that by making the score even, no, she has to take the lead. If Gabrielle wants to be a real champion with no debts on her checklist, then she has to find a way to kill me, because there is no way I will let this finish when she has that opportunity to win that title while I sit here with fucking nothing on my hands.

    I buried Gabrielle, the teenage crush before.

    And it’s time I bury her again, for real this time.”
    Du bindest einen Blumenkranz...
    ...wieso siehst du so traurig aus?

  10. #10
    Hail To The King
    OMB's Avatar

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    May 2017
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      Country                    United States


    "Men In The Mirror"

    The video opens with Kayden Knox secluded inside a small room. The only light coming in is that of the tv as the sounds of last week's match against Dave Sullivan plays. Knox is on the floor sitting maybe two or three feet from the TV. You can see his face from the reflection of the TV light and in his eye you can see the reflection of the TV playing as Sullivan catches Knox and then pins him one, two, three. Knox grabs the remote plays it back over and over his voice soft and broken and talking to himself under his breath.

    I had it.

    It was in my hands.

    I just let it slip.


    Not again.

    This can't be real.


    This is just a dream.

    I can beat him.

    I beat him.

    His voice cracks his hand on the TV the sound of the phone ringing begins to echo throughout the room. Knox ignores it still fixed on the TV. The call goes to a voicemail as Knox plays it still almost in a trance at the TV.

    Kayden... It's AJ.

    Where are you?

    I want by your house you weren't there. Kayden you can't beat yourself up. You give it everything you had you give it all you had. Dave Sullivan just barley got by. You can't fall into the vices again. You are going to fall if you don't take a step back from where you are.

    You are not in the right state of mind. You are obessed. This defeating Sullivan idea is going to eat away at you like a cancer until you are left with nothing. You got this whole career out here and from where you were a few months ago compared to where you are now you are going to do great things.

    This obsession you have with Dave Sullivan with proving everyone else wrong I thought it was the fire you needed that passion that would get you to the championship but, the obsession is going to drive you mad.

    I am not saying, you can't defeat him that you can't prove them wrong what I am saying is that you need to take a step back that you need to move on for right now that is what is best...

    Knox takes his phone throws it across the room as it bounces off the wall. Knox gets up goes to a window at the side of the room as rain drips down from it. He is a couple floors up and you can see that he is in a bad looking part of town the lights from the motel across the street are barley lit there are a few people walking around. Knox pulls out a cig from his jacket and lights it. He takes a long inhale before the smoke comes out from his nose. He then opens the window it is big enough to where he can stand as he looks down.

    Knox: No one knows what it is like to be truly alone do they?

    I thought I had a friend in AJ I thought he saw what I wanted to be and help me achieve but, if he has given up on me do I really stand a chance. He was the one man the one guy who told me I was something who told me I was better then what anyone thought I was.

    The truth is maybe I just don't have what it takes is that no matter how hard I try no matter what I do I am always meant to be the bottom of the barrel drowning in this self loathing.

    I hate myself.

    I hate myself for thinking that because I know I should be better.

    I know that I am being overtaken by the demons in my head. These vices clawing in my skin.

    There is this part of me right now telling me to jump.

    They are telling me to end it all its not just a whisper its a scream that never stops and no one seems to understand that I don't know if it ever will. The very one telling me to take the leap of faith unto that cold wet unforgiving pavement below.

    Knox puts one foot in the air looking down only one step away from death. The cig from his mouth drops to the ground below the embers fading away as Knox goes on talking.

    Knox: The thing is though I have another voice in my head screaming as well telling me I can beat Dave Sullivan and that I will. That one tells me to say fuck the world. This one tells me that no one thinks I can do it that proving them wrong is going to be so much sweeter when I hold that championship up high and then knock the crown right off the head of Dave Sullivan.

    The difference between men like Alyster Black, Orion, Grayson, Eli Black is none of them have been at the bottom. They can say that their dream is to win the FWA Championship. The FWA Championship in the hands of anyone else is a prize in the hands of Dave Sullivan it means something more and credit due where credit is due Sullivan has held the championship and given it more meaning but, its not the title that makes the man.

    Knox walks back into the room and stares at the reflection from the mirror across the room. He begins to talk to it his voice begins to change and the person in the mirror as he gets closer is not himself but its Dave Sullivan and the voice of Dave Sullivan loud and sharp speaks.

    It's the man that makes the title.

    Sullivan stands in the mirror the title across his shoulder. He has a smirk across his face as it looks like he is about to speak but, Knox hits the mirror and it splits. Knox sees himself in the mirror on one side but, on the other is Sullivan and their voices begin to talk together as the tv in the background turns back on and you can hear the different defining moments throughout both their careers as it is overtaken by the more victories and championships won by Sullivan that Knox lets out a primal scream.

    That is where this obsession with Sullivan comes from because while the arrogant king sits upon his throne and that smirk on his face just pumps toxins into my veins he has defeated every single threat to him with ease from legends to upstarts. The thing is I know I can beat him. I know I can do it.

    Dave Sullivan knows its too.

    All of a sudden the crack mirror show Knox with the title on his shoulder and the sound of a screaming Sullivan. Knox voice now carries louder.

    Sullivan you and I are the same.

    No matter how hard I try to fight it you know that where I am is your future and where you are is mine. This obession is what is going to take me through every single shot. Sullivan or anyone will give me and no matter how many times I am knocked down no matter how many people turn their back on me I am gonna get the hell back up.

    No matter what every voice in my head or in a crowded room will scream that I can't defeat you will sit in awe and the room will go silent as the almighty powerful King is relived of his throne when I drive you face first into the mat and you are left looking up and seeing that Kayden Knox is the downfall of the king.

    The camera starts to fade as Knox seems to look in the mirror with tears running down his face.


    CWA World Heavyweight Champion
    ​Brayden Bridges

  11. #11
    Chikara Trainee

    Join Date
    Apr 2011
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    Backstage – Fight Night 17.04.20

    Alyster was walking through the corridors of the PPG Paints Arena, fresh off his victory over Gerald Grayson. Holding an ice pack to the back of his neck, grumbling under his breath. He was looking for a secluded room to watch the rest of the show. Usually by this stage he would be in his rental and driving back to the hotel to watch the show, but he wanted to be in the arena to watch the rest if this show. He had a vested interest in two matches. The upcoming X Championship defence by MvH against an unknown competitor, and the main event of this Fight Night; a hellacious cage match for the FWA North American championship, a fight to settle the score between “The Prodigy” Mike Parr and “The White Wolf” Krash.

    He found what he was looking for. An empty small room with a monitor set up on a table with a single chair inside. A very convenient find that didn’t illicit too much thought on the part of the masked man. He sat down, put his feet up and watched the monitor. He managed to catch the end of Cyrus Truth vs. Nova Diamond, wincing as he watched Nova drop Cyrus right on his neck and get the surprise victory. Not that anyone was shocked that Nova Diamond was able to beat Cyrus, but shocked at Cyrus losing yet another match and continue this anti-streak.

    Finally, it was time for the match he was most interested in. That little bastard Kevin Cromwell, versus the reigning X Champion herself. A long bloody battle for the title. With a disappointing start on the part of MvH that quickly became the sort of fight Alyster was hopeful for. Battling around the arena, the use of weapons, blood. It was damn near perfect. Alyster noted some areas that needed improvement, moments where Kevin and MvH should have been more barbaric. It was still fun to watch and Alyster got a much needed view of MvH in a title defence situation.

    Then Jason Randall happened. Snake Eyes to the champion, one to the challenger. And all that’s left at the end of the match is Jason Randall standing tall holding up the X Division Championship. ‘Disgusting, putting your hands on a title you haven’t won.’ Alyster thought to himself. He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, throwing his head back. It’s clear that he’ll be waiting a while for a shot at MvH. But that was fine. He was still going to run the rest of his gauntlet. All he had left was Donovan Moore, and the two men in the ring. Randall, and Cromwell. Then he would challenge MvH. It was a simple dream that was about to have a wrench thrown into it in the form of a major announcement from Lord Vincent Takaab Blackbird.

    Alyster had managed to ignore Gabrielle and Dave’s back and forth, his head was pounding too much to listen to the two of them prattle on. His attention was instantly snapped up by Blackbird’s music. As much as Alyster liked to pretend that he didn’t care about the World title, he was curious enough to listen to what Blackbird had to say.

    “A gauntlet match?” His voice was full of disgust, more so than he had at the sight of Jason Randall raising the X Division championship above his head. “Just give me Sullivan one-on-one!” He screamed at the screen, throwing his hand out as if Blackbird could hear him. He sat there for a minute thinking about what he was going to do about this. It was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to screw up, but the world title was not something he cared about. He stood up just as Michael Garcia was putting away the mops, turned heel and left the room. He was going to go home and start preparing. Krash didn’t need him to stay in the arena. It was a cage match, it’s not like someone could interfere. Krash would defend his North American title just fine without Alyster hanging around.

    Back to basics – In front of an FWA banner, with a single camera and a lot to say – the day before Fight Night

    Like a thousand promos cut but a thousand other wrestlers over the long history of this sport, Alyster found himself, dressed in his familiar ring gear under his classic entrance robe, standing in front of a black curtain, with an FWA banner, and a single camera pointed right at him. He was nervous, a little agitated, but still comfortable with his immediate surroundings.

    Black: The world doesn't revolve around Dave Sullivan. In spite of what he may lead you all to believe, it doesn't. I didn’t return from a seven-year long exile to fight him. I didn’t even return with the intent of someday becoming the FWA World Champion. Shocking I know. What's the old adage? "Every wrestler is here because they want to be the world champion." Truth is that I'm not. I came back to prove something to myself, and being the world champion doesn't factor into that. Consider this me wasting my time, I don't care. I'm not here to impress any of you, I'm here for me and me alone.

    Alyster looked off to the side for a few fleeting moments, if not for the mask covering his visage the viewers would see just how conflicted he was about this match. On the surface he spoke about not caring about the world title, but deep down, just like everyone else, he did care.

    Black: I’ve been here before. I’ve achieved what we’re all fighting for before. I came back because I wanted to have barbaric fights with the craziest people I could find. There’s a reason my return coincides with the announcement of the rule changes in the X Division. It’s perfect for a man like me. But in my life, I’ve never fought people as violent, angry, desperate, and bloodthirsty, then those who wanted to become world champion. Dave has experienced what I’m talking about. The injuries he suffered at Back in Business should tell you everything you need to know about how important this title is to everyone here. So, I won’t disappoint. I’ll do exactly as I’ve done in every other match here. I will beat whoever I happen to be in the ring with, until they’re hurt, until they can no longer continue. Basic, barbaric, and brutally.

    He's started to pace, still in frame. Just moving back and forth. Hands out stretched, baling up into fists. He’s trying to stay calm, to keep from yelling. He’s cool, at least that’s what he wants to be.

    Black: I think this gauntlet match is a joke. Dave Sullivan may be a disgusting human being and deserving of a biblical sized ass kicking, but stacking the odds against him doesn't prove anything. If he goes into this gauntlet and beats everyone, then what was the point? Do you just want to prove that Dave Sullivan is the best? Or do you want to see him worn out and taken down by someone that has no place in the ring with him? Anyone lucky enough to pin that man, who isn't first out, doesn't come off looking like a superstar. They come off looking like a snivelling, snake, scumbag opportunist. A scavenger waiting in the grass, leaping on and taking down a tired, wounded, and easy kill. It makes me sick to my stomach. If you wanted to see Dave humbled and hurt then you should have just booked him against me one-on-one. It’s the only fair thing to do. Do you think I want to enter this gauntlet last and just take down a wounded world champion? Where’s the honour in that?

    Alyster raises his hands out in front of him, shrugging his shoulders. His voice has quietened down.

    Black: Look at the position Dave Sullivan is in. It’s not good. Look at what he has to contend with. Kayden Knox. The freshest name to fall at your feet. I imagine he's hungry for revenge, and a guaranteed world title shot on pay-per-view if he's successful must be an amazing motivator. I'd try to steer clear of him if I were in your position. Ashley Bell. Feisty, fiery, and... okay I don't know much about her. But the chance to go to Payback with a title match alongside her fellow Wave members is huge. Orion. Big, silent, impressive. But with his track record, not a favourite to pin you by any means. Then again is anyone in FWA a favourite against the King? At the very least Orion can damage you, and that's all he'll need to do. Eli Black. He has momentum on his side. And Gerald Grayson. My everything still aches after facing that man. He's amazing. Visibly injured after having impressive showings at Back in Business and then against the X Division Champion. He put me in a position where one misstep would have led to my downfall. I have faith he can do the same to you.

    A nod of his head, and the pacing starts again. Back and forth, thinking about what he’s going to do. In the gauntlet.

    Black: Then there’s Black Jesus. Have you seen the odds in Vegas? They have you as the favourite to win this Dave, but only if I don’t come out last. Personally, I know I can beat you if I come out first. I want to come out first. But if I don’t, if you’re a wounded animal waiting to be put out of its misery when I enter that ring…well I’m a merciful man. I will put you down quickly. It's only fair. Like I said, I didn’t come back to wrestling to fight you Dave. I didn’t return with the dream of becoming world champion. But if Lord Vincent Blackbird wants to put you in my path, then I have no reservations about taking you down. I’m not a stupid man Dave. I will hit you if you’re hurt, I will put you down if you’re not at one hundred per cent. I will scratch, claw, and bite you if I need to. Because you are the best, and you are dangerous, even if you’re worn down, bruised, battered and ripe for the kill. You are the world champion after all. Only a fool would take you lightly in any situation.

    Alyster moves closer to the camera, looking straight into it. He hopes that Dave Sullivan can look past his mask, into his eyes, because he wants Dave to heed this warning.

    Black: I know I can beat you Dave. Gauntlet or not. I know I can walk into that building on any day of the week and I know I could steal a victory from you. You’ve cemented yourself as one of the all-time greats. And I respect that. But you’ve been hurt. You’ve fended off some of the greatest there’s ever been. And you’re distracted. You have the threat of Gabrielle looming in the back of your mind. I have no baggage, nothing like you do. The pressure of being champion, it’s great. Lesser men would have buckled under its weight by now. But not you, at least not yet. I can see the chinks in your armour though. I’m going to help you by beating you Dave. I’m going to beat you on Fight Night, and then I’m going to reluctantly beat you at Payback. I’ll take all that pressure away and you can let go of this notion of being a king. Black Jesus will save you.

    He backs up from the camera, stands still. His voice is calm, he’s cool and collected now. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side.

    Black: Unless someone else is lucky enough to take you out before me. In which case I’ll be more than happy to bloody them instead. But it would be a damn shame if I didn’t get my hands on your first. Ah well, I’ll see you all tomorrow night.

    He gives the camera a lazy wave before it fades to black.

  12. #12
    Fearless University
    ETE's Avatar

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    Jan 2012
    Perth, Australia
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      Country                    New Zealand


    “We’re not mad, we’re just disappointed.”

    Those are the words that greet us. Words not spoken by the soft, almost sickly sweet voice of our Goddess reborn anew though. Words instead spoken by a non-descript, emotionless, seemingly soulless males voice. This man if you can call him that sits there in a chair that probably has more personality than he does. This ‘man’ is featureless, he has all the correct body parts but they’re just there with nothing that stands out about him besides how boring it all is. He looks, sounds, and probably even feels like a living, breathing dummy.

    The woman beside him though could not be any more different. Bright, vibrant, bubbly, intoxicating, warm, invigorating, mesmerising, tantalising, full of life, full of joy, the words you could use to describe her could go on forever. So perhaps the easiest way to encapsulate all of that is to simply say it is Gabrielle. The Gabrielle. Her long dark brunette hair is tied back into a ponytail revealing the soft skin of her cheeks, and her elegant neck. Her eyes, those deep brown pools of emotion and alluring desires pierce our very souls. Her body, those famed curves, that voluptuous figure, that smooth skin is all drizzled in that iconic Caramel complexion. Though fear not Children, Mothers, and good Christians for her skin is not bare. Instead decorated by various gold encased jewels around her neck, hanging from her ears, adorning her wrists and hugging her fingers. Her hourglass figure meanwhile is softly caressed by a dark blue, thigh baring, cleavage exposing romper.

    Its like Day and Night as we look upon these two. A Goddess reborn anew, promising Opportunity for herself and for those whom her good fortune shines upon. And a nothing of a man. Even their chairs share this opposition of one another. While his is just a nondescript chair, hers is more akin to a throne. Not as Gaudy as the Caramel Coated Goddesses Thrones, but still it towers over everything else as it encapsulates Gabrielle lovingly.

    “We’re not angry, we’re just disappointed.”

    Those emotionless words from ‘him’ end the spell that had seemed to make a few seconds of taking in every sight last an eternity as the World around us returns to normal. Gabrielle leans forward, in closer to ‘us’ her adoring audience who watch her every move from every corner of the World.

    You disappointed us Andrew. We expected so much better from you. We expected greatness from you, instead all we got is failure. You see someone grow up, mature, and show so much potential and promise…then they go and fail you like this. Is there anything sader that can happen to a parent?

    “We’re not sad, we’re just disappointed.”

    Gabrielle: How could you disappoint us like that, how could you disappoint me? You have admired me from afar for so long Andrew. Since even before you became the man we now know as Nova Diamond. But I know your type, you bought every magazine I appeared in, rewatched every interview I ever did and read too far into some answers. You worshipped your Caramel Coated Goddess, and then you grew up to even stand in the same ring as I. Change your name, alter who you want to be, but I know who you were.

    But it all ended in failure at Back In Business. You left us all feeling so disappointed by nights end, you had Dave beat, you had him helpless. You had him as fearful as I’ve ever seen someone. Davey was terrified that he was going to lose everything he had…instead you lost what little you had Andrew. It was such a disappointing sight to behold, I felt empty inside, I even felt betrayed by you.

    Gabrielle casts her eyes downwards for a moment, before glancing back up, the whites of her eyes framing her pupils intensely.

    Do you know how few people have ever gotten the best of me in the better part of fifteen years in the FWA?

    So very, very few. Champions like Phillip Jackson, Ashley O’Ryan, Rocky Creed, Thomas Princeton…even the late, great Matthew Boudreau never got the best of me, never got to pin my shoulders to the mat. I have heard Devin Golden begin to refer to himself as a ‘Championship’. He is glorifying and celebrating what it means to get a victory over The Golden One. And I cant disagree with that, he is a Legend of the FWA and he too loses to so very, very few. Beating Devin means so much, and with it comes the expectations of so much potential and greatness.

    Well Andrew…Andy…Nova Diamond as you now prefer one should look at me in the same light. I don’t ever lose to just anybody. People don’t get to make their careers off of my name, my hard work, MY Legacy without being something special. This is a statement that goes all the way back to when I was the first ever FWA Women’s Champion. It took an incredible woman like Jenny Ignito to dethrone me, a woman who went onto reign as Women’s Champion longer than anyone else would for years and years.

    Fast forward to the here and now and you Andrew, YOU derailed my ambitions of a glorious return to the Back In Business stage. Somewhere that I have twice before walked in as, and walked out still as the FWA World Champion. It would have been the perfect exclamation point upon my return to the FWA to Coronate myself as the World Champion for the third time at Back In Business. But you won Carnal Contendership instead…you last eliminated me over the top rope and booked your own ticket to the biggest Event of them all.

    A mocking, yet playful applause comes from her as she claps for Nova Diamond. The man beside her joining in as well, though his clapping is horribly out of rhythm with hers.

    Bravo Andy, bravo. You made a statement on that day and people began to rally behind you, believing in you that you could dethrone a King and ascend to the World Championship in short order. But you weren’t done there were you, you took another step further…you made sure everyone believed and that Davey had sweat tricking down his brow whenever he saw you.

    We had our first date. Our first true encounter away from the chaos and unpredictable nature of Carnal Contendership.

    Gabrielle vs Nova Diamond for the first time ever. The buzz in the air that night was absolutely electric. It grew and grew all throughout the match and was at a fever pitch as you got the best of me and scored the biggest victory of your life.

    She takes a deep breath and pauses for a few seconds, composing herself and gathering her thoughts.

    I had wondered aloud if you could send a message to Davey against me. After all to fall to the Fallen Goddess then and there just weeks out from Back In Business could have dashed all your hopes. Instead you did what Dave Sullivan himself has never done. So the expectations of the entire World were upon you from that moment, everyone believed even more. Everyone thought now this Nova Diamond kid, he’s for real, he can be crowned the new King on the most important night of the year.

    “We’re not upset, we’re just disappointed.”

    Gabrielle: But that didn’t happen, you let everyone down. You beat ME and then you went on to fall at the final hurdle. You WASTED a victory over me, you made a mockery of what it means to be able to get the best of Gabrielle even just once.

    Another sigh, and another pause.

    Gabrielle: You know I was doubting myself after our first date. I was questioning whether I still had ‘it’. I was even doubting my decision to return to the FWA. Maybe I had been away from the ring too long. Maybe I didn’t truly have the same hunger for success anymore. Maybe the tolls of injuries, age and focusing upon being a Mother had all worn down the Goddess.

    Losing to you Andy was one high profile loss too many for a woman that was not used to failure. But you had me looking within myself, wondering if this was all worth it, wondering if this is still where I excel.

    You affected me greatly Nova Diamond, at a time when I was down…you kicked me. And then you yourself failed from there. You fell from the perch you had built for yourself off of my Legacy. If it were not for me getting to burn Cyrus Truth at Back In Business I just might have found you backstage and slapped you after watching you come up so short. When victory was right there in front of you, how could you disappoint me so greatly?

    So now I have to make things right, now I have to make amends and show you that what you achieved months ago was just a one time thing. A blip on the radar, a mistake, an anomaly. You don’t get to disappoint me again. You don’t get to make your name off of me again. You will come crashing back down to Earth and kneel before your New Goddess. You will see the punishment that comes from disappointment.

    You will have to impress the World and showcase any potential you have off of someone else’s name Andrew. You don’t get to build a Legacy of failure off of my hard work. I have not been the standard bearer of greatness for over a decade just to see a man like you tarnish everything I have done.

    This is what beating you means to me. Its not just a win, it is writing a wrong. It is taking away what you have achieved, because so far Nova what you can brag about the most is getting the better of Gabrielle. I will change that narrative, I will change how your career is looked upon by others.

    That familiar smirk of hers kisses her lips as she leans back in her throne like chair. Letting it comfortably hold her.

    I’ll try not to break everything you have and everything you are though Andy. I can be cruel at times but I’m not heartless. But just look at what happened to the broken shell of a man you defeated last week. Look at the current fortunes of Cyrus Truth…

    He got the best of me, once! Now look at him, I brought the World he had created and excelled within down around his ears. I asked him early on what his Legacy would be after facing me. Whether he would remain as the Gold Standard or if he would just be cast aside and remembered just as a man who excelled when I wasn’t around…

    Gabrielle pauses and tilts her head slightly as she lets the gravity of Cyrus Truth’s current predicament weigh on us all.

    How could I have predicted that things would spiral away into a third option?

    That win Cyrus scored over me was the last time he was the Cyrus that everyone knew and even feared. That was the last time he could call himself great. Beating a Goddess poisoned his career, and his very existence. He has nothing left now, just emptiness and darkness. Do I brag that I did this to him?

    Of course I do.

    I broke Cyrus Truth. I took the man who stood taller than anyone else in my absence and left him a shell of what he once was. I left him with nothing but memories of when he was important and special.

    Does the same fate await you now Nova?

    “We’re not upset, we’re just disappointed.”

    Gabrielle: SHUT UP!

    The time for disappointments is over. The time for disappointments is done. I will make this right, I will correct both of our Legacies Nova. You will just be a flash in the pan who experienced a month or two of greatness before reality bit you in the ass. Will it poison you as well?

    I do not care. Your Opportunities are over, you squandered them, wasted them. You failed to make the most of what was before you. Now it is my time, it is my Opportunity that the World is watching.

    I will make the most of it, I will triumph from all this. I will make an example of you Nova...and it doesn’t matter what you try as you attempt to cling onto relevancy…

    Gabrielle leans in closer again, that teasing signature smirk of hers kissing her soft lips.

    Bring the handcuffs if you want too Nova. Try them on my wrists…I wont have to break my hand to escape and shatter what you have built off of my name. I wont have to hurt myself to drop you. Try the handcuffs…and see what happens. After all it is our second ‘date’…just you’ll be the one left disappointed…

    And at those words, it all fades to black…

  13. #13
    Young Gunz
    Comeback Kid's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Viridian City
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    "When people think of The Elite, the first name that comes to mind is Noah Stocke. It doesn't matter who you speak to about them, when someone talks about The Elite, they're more than likely just speaking about Noah. What about Trevor Ocean? Why isn't he considered the de facto leader of the duo? Why isn't he spoken of with both fear and praise like his counterpart is? Your answer to that question is as good as mine."

    The attention of our scene focuses on Trevor Ocean as he walks down the void corridor of the Pittsburgh International Airport. His crystal blue eyes hide behind a pair of black Wayfair style sunglasses - the type you pick up as a last-minute item at H&M, UNIQLO, or store of that nature. He wears a loose white henley shirt and oversized black joggers with low top Chuck Taylor shoes hiding his generally cut frame. The less attention he could draw to himself, the better. But, it's not like anyone was going to notice him anyways. Not with his partner Noah Stocke walking ahead of him with Daniel Oakley.

    Noah and Daniel had been having a full conversation with one another discussing plans for another sitdown interview, similar to the one they did while in CWA.

    Daniel Oakley
    I want to dive deep into the vision you have for the tag-team division. I've known you guys for a while, and I've never seen you so passionate about something. I want to take the focus off of the World and North American Championship scenes and put a spotlight on the tag-team division. A division that has never been more interesting than it is right now. A division with an Elite vision.

    Noah Stocke (laughing)
    Look at you writing the article, and we haven't even gotten to Vancouver yet. Just chill out, Danny-Boy. We're just wanting to take a moment to recover and rest up before starting this championship marathon.

    Daniel Oakley

    Noah Stocke
    Don't read so deep into things, Danny.

    The three-stop at the ticket counter for Air Canada and Noah drops his bags to be checked and goes through the preboarding process with the representative as he receives his ticket.

    Trevor pats himself down, pulling the insides of his pockets out before dropping his backpack and ransacking through it. Noah and Daniel stare back at him as he feverishly searches for something.

    Noah Stocke
    Everything alright, Trev?

    Trevor Ocean (Still searching)
    Yeah...I think I left my passport back at the hotel...Shit (waving Noah and Daniel away) you two go on without me. I'll head back to the hotel and take a later flight.

    Noah Stocke
    You sure? I can stay back with you, it's no biggie. I'm sure Danny wouldn't mind either.

    Trevor Ocean (STILL searching)
    No, no, it's cool. You two go ahead without me.

    Noah stares at Trevor who has stopped searching is now zipping back up his bag. Somethings wrong and it aint the missing passport.

    Noah Stocke
    Alright...well...just text me when you get things settled.

    The three men exchange head nods as Noah and Daniel make their way further into the airport while Trevor approaches the AirCanda ticketing counter.

    "One of the problems that you deal with as the 'sidekick' to Noah Stocke is that everyone just assumes that you're Canadian like him. I'm not Canadian, I'm fucking parents are Texas Republican American. But, because I'm always playing second fiddle to Noah, noone thinks to check and just assumes that when I say I need a ticket home that I'm talking about Canada. You would think that FWA would have read my file and known that home is Seattle...but it wouldn't be the first time that they forgot about something or someone related to the tag-team division."

    Trevor speaks with the ticketing associate, explains the situations, and gets his flight detination switched from Vanocuver to Seattle. He makes his way through the airport, unrecognized by anyone and makes his way to the gate for his plane. A last call announcement for passengers on his flight blares through the airport as he picks up the pace to a slight jog. As he picks up the pace and gets closer to the gate his foot slides and he falls faceforward. A couple of people snicker as he pulls himself up looks around to see if he has dropped anything. Thankfully, he hadn't.

    "Just fucking great. Can I just get on this plane and go home? I miss my girl and I know there's a treat for me waiting when I walk through that door."

    Trevor checks in with the gate agent and boards the plane. As the gate agent closes the door leading into the plane, our scene slowly fades to black.


    "It's not secret that when it comes to The Elite I'm considred the least threatening of the two. But honestly, how can you be considered threatening when your tag-team partner is a guy that literally finds joy in getting hurt and hurting people? I'm a damn threatening guy, when I want to be. I just haven't found anyone on the FWA roster that's made me want to flip the switch and show that side of myself. Noah likes carying out mental assassinations on people and humbling them in the ring. He get's off on that stuff no matter who it is. Me, on the other hand, I have to be pushed to do something like that."

    The sun begins to set over the beachfront property that Trevor's Uber has stopped infront of. He extis and gathers his things from the trunk before waving good bye to the driver and approaching the front door. He fidgets in his pocket for the keys as footsteps can be heard approaching from inside. He inserts the key and slowly open the doors as the footsteps grow quicker until the door is open and a full grown German Shepherd lunges upwards at Trevor, it's tail wagging in excitement.

    Trevor Ocean
    Hey, Bella girl. How've you been? You missed me right? I've missed the hell outta you. Come on, let me get here.

    Bella jumps off of Trevor and lets him get into the house as he drops his bags in the front corridor. He drops his keys in a bowl on a table and walks towards the living room and plops down on the couch. Bella jumps up beside him and lays down as Trevor stares up at the ceiling.

    "It's sad, really. The only time I get more attention in the world than Noah is when I come home to my dog. To her, I'm the greatest dad, wrestler, and partner that anyone could have. To the rest of the world, I'm just the second hand to Noah Stocke. That's why things in Japan and Europe didn't work without him. That's why my original run with CWA didn't work without him. As much as I hate to admit it, I need him."

    Trevors phone vibrates drawing the attention of him and Bella as he reaches into his pocket and fishes it out.

    New E-Mail
    Subject: Upcoming Fight Night Bout
    Good afternoon, Trevor.

    We hope that your flight back to VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA was without problem. This message is to inform you that your bout for the upcoming Fight Night has been announced. Please find details of the bout below.

    Tag Team Match
    The Elite (Noah Stocke & Trevor Ocean) VS Krash and Mike Parr

    We look forward to seeing you in Chicago,

    FWA Talent Relations

    Trevor lets out a deep sigh as he closes the message and tosses his phone onto the coffee table in front of him.

    "We're the tag-team champions and we're comepting in a match up against the two guys feuding over the North American Championship. That's just lazy booking at its finest! We should be facing off against actual tag-teams elevating the tag-team division instead of acting as a buffer match to help prolong a feud until the pay-per-view. We just laid out a challenge to the majority of the tag-team division and the next week we get a match between Krash and Mike fucking Parr?

    Who the hell even is Mike Parr? He calls himself the Prodigy and yet he can't beat Krash, the guy with one fucking name like he's Cher or something? What tag-team experience does this guy have? Has he been apart of any notable tag-team bouts? Has he made a name for himself in the tag-team division and done literally ANYTHING to earn an opportunity to share the ring with us? He doesn't even CARE about tag-team wrestling.

    This is stupid. This is dumb. Noah and I are a legitimate tag-team that has proven ourselves as the best of the best when it comes to this tag-team thing. And FWA managment just thinks that they can pair any two guys that are feuding and put them against us. This is why tag-team wrestling is considered a joke and an afterthought in this company, because of decisions like that.

    But, now it's got me wondering about something. Let's say that Noah and I win this match. Is our victory over Krash and Mike Parr acknowledged or is it jus chalked up to the fact that the two of them hate one another and coulnd't get on the same page?!?! And what happens if they beat us?!?! Does it just show that the tag-team division isn't on the same level as the other divisions and our "Tag-Team Revolution" go the down in flames before it even gets a chance to rise?

    Speaking of going down in flames, I've never thought of this but it seems like everytime Krash ends up as a focal point of a company, the company ends up going under soon after. Is Krash a cancer to the wrestling industry? I remember Shawn telling us that we shouldn't trust Krash because he once screwed over his partner, Alyster Black, to win a World Championship. Is that Krash's MO? Does he just get everyone to fall in love with his infatuating cult of personality and then burn them down? It's what he did to CWA. It's what he did to Takedown Wrestling. It's what he did to Alyster Black. Would us beating him and Parr be the saving grace for the tag-team division? For FWA?!

    This is going to stress me out and I just wanted to come home to RELAX."

    Trevor picks up a box from on the coffee table in fron of him, opens it and pulls out a rolled joint. He grabs a lighter as he putts the joint between his lips and lights it up. He takes a deep inhale and holds before exhaling the smoke. He pulls out his phone and snes a text before taking another drag as the scne focuses in on his screen.

    Message to Noah Stocke
    "Found my passport, gonna go home though. I'll see you in Chicago.:

    The scene fades to black.

  14. #14
    Striving for a B+ in life
    The Golden One's Avatar

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    Nov 2013
    Orlando, Florida
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    "Wake up! You're dreaming."

    Those words don't work, though. Nothing changes. Everything in this mind is perfect. Hazy, not very clear. There are depictions of figures and known people. Some colors and shapes. The "idea" of spoken words, and maybe even the belief within this mind that words are actually said and heard.

    It's a happy scene. There's a smile, although you can't see it. Because its your own smile. That's when you remember who you are: "The Golden One" Devin Golden. The three-time World Heavyweight Champion. The two-time X Champion. The four-time Tag Team Champion. The Hall of Fame inductee. The person who has won more than 100 matches and wrestled more than 150 matches in the FWA. The man who joined 12 years ago and has competed regularly for eight of them.

    And you remember why you're smiling so much.

    People are talking about how you're "back." You retired four years ago, but you were yanked out of retirement. Now you're showing why people consider you one of the all-time greats.

    A few are even talking you up to face the World Champion. You're enjoying the praise, the adoration of people. You've always enjoyed it.

    When it's good, it's really good.

    "Wake up, Devin."

    You don't want to. The last-possible thing you want to do is wake up. For all of the reasons above. For how you feel. For what you're being told. It's such a happy dream, and the BEST happy dreams are the ones when you know you're dreaming and can bask in it. You can enjoy the positive energy you're feeling and perceiving. You can even control the dream.

    The only pain .. is knowing that it'll eventually end.

    Golden looks out and see the a row of people in front, smiling back. Talking well of him. There's a blurry sort of wave around people's shoulders and hair. But nothing behind them. No walls or buildings or anything like that. No floors, either. There's just this white blank space. Then sort of a blurry grey texture around their knees. Golden knows he's dreaming so he just accepts the oddities here.

    "He just keeps winning."

    "Golden is so smooth."

    "This might be ..."

    Golden looks to his left and right and sees mostly jut faces. He fixates on them and doesn't even notice or see shoulders, chest, arms, and legs. One of the faces is "The Carnegie Carnivore" Michael Garcia, who has a face of adoration. The other face is of Cyrus Truth. Then there's Krash. All people whom Golden has beaten in the last few months.

    "... the best yet."

    "He could even be above Chris Kennedy now."

    And another of the voices follows, saying the same thing as before. This time it's louder. More aggressive. The voice is the only one bringing limiting the smile and uplifting energy. The voice is even ... recognizable.

    "Wake up, Golden!"

    Your perception pulls back to see everyone's full blurry figures. Very thin legs and ams. A black color in the chest and waist. The voices talk quicker. "The Golden One" is unable to make out what they're saying. The only thing he can clearly hear is an outright YELLING!

    "GOLDEN, WAKE ... UP!"

    Then he sees a figure dressed in white and black face paint and a black hood over his head. Full-grown beard. All the other faces and shapes grow in blurriness until they fade into a black smoke. This painted-face person, undoubtedly Golden's mental image of Zachary Kazadi, moves closer and closer to him. Then he says, very brusquely and confidently, with his right shoulder bent back, elbow cocked, and fist clenched ...

    "It's time to wake up."

    The fist flies forward towards your face, turning the perception of feet to inches to centimeters. The last thing you see is the fist, and the very-detailed outline of the four fingers wrapped beneath the thumb, with the crevices between the skin and curvatures of the fingers.

    Your eyes POP OPEN, your breathing pace faster than usual, and you feel sweat glands coming down the side of your forehead and cheeks. You remember that it was all a dream, and then you quickly scan your face with your hands to make sure your nose is intact and wasn't actually harmed by a dream-like fist.

    "I think he was having a bad dream."

    "A bad dream, yes, but there was a good dream there, too."

    Golden sits up, still frazzled and wide-eyed after the whole experience. "The Golden One" inexplicably wipes his hands onto his pants, trying to rid his hands of the sweat that has built up. Golden looks up and sees four eyes staring down at him like he's some sort of artifact or science experiment. The eyes belong to XYZ, who is a former Tag Team Champion in his own right, and Big Al. Sure as the sky is blue, Big Al has a box of Popeyes chicken in his hands.

    "Yo, woohoo. You were dreaming."

    "Everyone ... in FWA seems to have ... BIG ... REFLECTIVE DREAMS ... about their current state of affairs. It's strange how often we get that on camera for documen---tation."

    "You don't even know what he was dreaming about, X."

    "Of course ... I do. Al, look at this guy. He was smiling. Then he was sweating. ... Put the pieces together, Al. He was dreaming ... about the fact that he lost on Fight Night after having a run of success. He was dreaming about the fans' love of him, followed by their disappointment. He was undergoing the emotions of the highs and the lows for what ... he loves."

    "Maybe he shouldn't have said that facing him is a championship in and of itself."

    XYZ looks up at Big Al, who is maybe 5 inches taller than him and a good 125 pounds heavier. Golden likewise looks up at Big Al with a "what did you say" expression. But Big Al simply takes another bite of his fried chicken breast piece.

    "He probably ... should not have gotten such a big head, no."

    "What the hell do you guys want?"

    Golden finally speaks up about the intruders in his locker room. XYZ is wearing his usual green cape tied around his neck and green pants down to his ankles. His curly dirty blond hair matches the big bug eyes. Golden is now sitting on the couch and looking up at XYZ and Big Al, who simply wears a stained grey t-shirt and blue basketball/gym shorts.

    "I am ... seeking my calling. I am trying to find ... my light. ... But ... it brings me back here. So now I'm looking for ... inspiration. I'm looking for an example. And I see you ... as that inspiration. Devin Golden returned ... after years away ... and is back putting smiles on faces and shining a bright light of good in the FWA. ... I wanted to get ... your input and insight. I wanted your answer ... about me, XYZ ... doing the same."

    Golden listens intently to every word out of XYZ's mouth. When the spiel ends, XYZ sort of stands there awkwardly in front of this Hall of Famer. Golden is just looking up with his mouth slightly open. XYZ doesn't know what to do with his hands and decides to put them in his pockets, except he doesn't have any pockets. So he moves his hands behind his back. Golden just responds with an, "Ummm ... well ..."

    A long pause follows. Golden then finally stands up to go face to face with his two locker room visitors.

    "I honestly don't even know who you are. I mean ... the cape and tights and stuff ... yeah, I know of you. I guess I know a name. But I don't know ... really ... who you are.

    But I do know why I'm still here ... today."

    Golden raises his finger, as if to continue with an answer to why he's "still here today." But then he pauses and looks down, trying to find his thoughts. He then looks up at XYZ with a quizzical expression. And Big Al interjects with a "Huh?" Golden realizes in that moment a truth.

    "I ... don't know why I'm here today. Like 'here' in the FWA. I've been talking for months about being here with a drive to prove that I'm not some rusty, beaten-down Hall of Famer has-been. I wanted to prove that I COULD hang. And then I proved it. And then I let that make me think I was ... bigger or something. And then the dream ended. Zachary Kazadi beat me. 1-2-3. With a roll-up, sure, but he beat me. So if I'm really a championship in and of myself? Then I guess I lost it?

    So now ... what am I still here for? Just to put Kazadi in his place or something? To get revenge for him knocking me down a peg rightfully? That seems ... hollow and simple. But everything ... was so good for me until I made that Open Challenge, until Kazadi answered it."

    Golden puts his arms and hands out, seeking answers. XYZ seems to be the one now answering and helping. Big Al looks down at him expecting some sort of response and insight that would help "The Golden One". XYZ just keeps looking back and forth between Big Al and Golden and doesn't have anything to say.

    "It's not about Zachary Kazadi. Not at first, at least. It was all about ... me. But then it wasn't. So now what? Why couldn't I have left right after Back in Business? Why couldn't I have sensed the opportunity to leave at the perfect time? At my height? When I was invincible, felt invincible. I beat Garcia. I won the rivalry that brought me back in the first place. I proved I was one of the greats. I proved everything I needed to prove.

    So why ...

    Why did I stick around too long? One match too long?"

    Golden puts up one finger in front of XYZ and Big Al. Both of them lean back a bit as Golden's black eye liner gets in their faces. His hair is a little wacky, a bit all over the place. He looks frazzled.

    "I did the ONE THING ... that I NEVER wanted to do. Ever. It's the reason I retired in 2015 before I was on the decline in my career. It's the reason I walked away. Because I never wanted to stick around for too long. Like so many people. You see it all the time. That star, that long-time veteran and legend, is rolling right along. Big wins at every Fight Night, every pay-per-view event. Then ... it sort of just ... goes away.

    Like a light switches off but no one was warned beforehand. And no one really notices the light is off until it has been off for a while. And then you sort of realize the legend is a legend, not a current star or contender or championship material.

    And you can always trace it back to ... one match too long.


    So here we are now. I thought I could keep going, keep winning, because that's what I was doing before."

    XYZ is just about to respond when Golden continues his rant. Big Al continues eating his chicken breast off to the side. Golden smiles when he turns to Big Al and notices the Popeyes box for the first time. Louisiana Fried Chicken. Smells like home to the New Orleans native.

    "Now I'm motivated for someone again. Zachary Kazadi beat me. He ended the good dream I had going. Now he's in my head, and it's a nightmare. Do I walk away from this with negative feeling? Do I move on to some other rivalry or focus? Do I retire?

    No, the answer is Zachary Kazadi takes a loss ... against me. I prove that I didn't stay one match too many. I erase what happened. So whatever I have to do. That's why I stormed into Lord Vincent's office and demanded a rematch. That's why I was willing to do WHATEVER it took. Submission match. In Kazadi's house. On his front lawn. With my hands tied behind my back. Whatever I have to do to right this for me.

    I had the opportunity to leave. And I didn't take it. I got a big-ass head and made myself out to be more important than I was. I thought I was invincible. I felt invincible. I mean ... how do you beat Cyrus Truth, Krash, and Mike Garcia and not feel invincible? How do you not feel invincible when you one-up someone called a 'Monster' at Back in Business? How do you not feel invincible when you're ... basically above the World Championship?"

    "No one is invincible."

    Big Al breaks the monologue with the perfect mid-chew statement.

    "I'm not invincible. But neither is Kazadi. Even in a submission match.

    I stayed in the dream for too long. Now it's time to end the nightmare.

    Thanks, guys."

    "The Golden One leaves the room with XYZ and Big Al staring at one another. The Popeyes chicken is now finished, down to the bone, while XYZ is without the answers he sought. Or maybe he got his answer through the experience of someone else.

    "I agree with everything he says, but not about the dream going on for too long. The dream never dies. You and I know that."
    Last edited by The Golden One; 05-03-2020 at 02:47 AM. Reason: Fixed a coding 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

  15. #15
    Sully's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2013
    Pittsburgh, PA
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    Tough Enough Re: FIGHT NIGHT PROMO THREAD 05/01/20

    The Vault and the Ladder

    Banks are evil. Corrupt. Selfish. Corporations that hoard people's money, and then relay on big bail outs from the government when things go wrong. People who lend you money at higher interest rates than the mob, and take your house when you miss the first payment. They add on secret hidden charges to your bank statement hoping you don't catch them. They guide the flow of money from the poor to the rich.

    Banks are evil.

    But...banks are quiet.

    There is a strange calming aurora in banks. A peacefulness to them that sets a professional yet relaxing tone for your entire financial visit. This bank is even more relaxing, as it's a bank that was designed for high taste and royalty. It was built with the most expensive marble and limestone blocks. Counter tops are trimmed with gold. Fabric is exported from the rarest parts of the world.

    Above it all is a rare grandfather clock, used in one of the first original productions of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. The clock reads...2:14 PM.

    Yet with all these rare expensive items. With the marble block. With the expensive gold trim, or even the amazing fountain. It's the calm aurora of the bank that really makes it worth visiting.

    Which makes the loud cracking of that calming aurora so much louder.


    The doors are shattered open with force. The patrons of the bank all scream, and immediately drop to the white marble floor. Three at a time the six thugs enter the huge lobby of this magnificent castle looking establishment. There are columns that match a Roman palace. There are drapes that match the highest of royalty. And a chandelier that looks like it belongs in the white house.

    But standing all below it, are six maniacs with guns.

    Each maniac is dressed the same. Black combat boots, laced military style. Black cargo pants, with extra pockets. Black hoodies, no strings. And black ski masks. The only thing differentiating them from one another are the mysterious letters on the foreheads of their masks. One of the robbers has a huge "O" on his head. Another, a "GG". One with an "EB" and one with an "AB". One has the letters "KK" and one female who has the letter "W". Each of the robbers have what looks to be military grade assault rifles.

    The one with the letters "KK" looks up above the front desk of the lobby, and sees the big magnificent golden sign...he looks at it with disgust. KK aims his rifle at the sign, and unloads this entire magazine at it. The patrons of the bank scream in terror, as the sign nearly falls off his hinges.

    The sign reads...

    Bank of King Sullivan








    The clock sitting on the desk of the bank manager's office reads 2:07 PM.

    Tap. Tap. Tap.

    The nervous bank manager taps his shoe at the bottom of his leather swivel chair. He is nervous.

    He is unaware that he is about to be robbed at gun point in exactly seven minutes. No, he is nervous because the owner of the bank is sitting across from his desk. He is wearing that infamous pinstripe suit he loves so dear. The expensive leather shoes can be seen clearly as his right leg is draped over his left knee. The rings on his hand can be seen with precion as his fist lays on his chin.

    King Sullivan wastes no time. He is here for a reason, and it isn't a check up.

    King Sullivan: Stan...did you hear what I just said?

    Stan: Uh, yes Mr. Sullivan. You're're thinking of moving the MVO?

    King Sullivan: No, Stan. I'm not thinking about moving it, I am moving it. The Most Valuable Object...I am not going to deny Stan, that you've kept it safe here at the Bank of King Sullivan for so long.

    Stan: Of course so. It's locked away in the strongest of vaults. Kept guarded 24/7 by security. Cameras and trip wires, guard dogs, and poison gas all ready to be disposed to any fool who attempts to take it. And of course there's the ultimate fail know what.

    King Sullivan: And yet...the fools continue to come Stan. The fools continue to come. I have a daughter now Stan. I have more to protect than just the MVO...but yet protect them both I must. Did you know that the FWA is making me fight in a six man gauntlet match this Fight Night? Did you know that if someone by chance wins, they get a shot at what is locked away in that vault. They get a shot at the MVO. Did you know that Stan?

    King Sullivan continues to talk before Stan can give an answer.

    You know Stan, my first emotion after hearing of this? Anger.

    Anger at the continued hurdles I am given during my historic reign as champion. I have held an FWA level championship since July of 2018. I know you're bad at math Stan, that's why I pulled you from accounting. So let me do it for you. I have had a championship belt around my waist for almost two straight years. We all know I'll never let the world forget the fact that I at one point had all three at the same time.

    From X Champion.

    To North American Champion.

    All the way up to FWA World Champion.

    I have climbed that ladder to success in the most vertical way possible. That is something that Vincent Blackbird is robbing of these fools from the X Division. He is trying to give them a shortcut to the top of the ladder. An opportunity to jump straight ahead in a chance to compete for the FWA World Championship. He doesn't want them to win the X title first. Or the North American title. Or even the Carnal Contendership match. No, he is entirely okay with someone getting that shot by pinning a man who had already fought in five matches minutes before hand.

    That is the concept our brilliant leader has come up with. What is next, a championship scramble gimmick?

    I have complained time and time again about the opportunity Cyrus Truth had when he joined the FWA, won the 2016 Carnal Contendership match, and skyrocketed himself to the main events. Cyrus did not have to win the X Championship. He did not have to win the North American Championship, or hold both titles at the same time, or get the pin in some crazy six man tag team match.

    He got a shortcut.

    He had his brother play all the hard levels of the video game so he could to have fun in the bonus part of the game.

    And now...look at him.

    He finally fell from the top of the pedestal, and like humpty dumpty he's shattered to pieces. Since I took away his title, he has had loss after loss, after loss. He suffered yet another Back in Business loss, to Gabrielle of all people. And just recently he's lost to Nova Diamond. And do you want to know why?

    Because he got a shortcut to the top of the ladder. And when you get a shortcut to the top, it means you get a shortcut to the bottom too. You fall all the way down rung by rung. You see I'm not niave enough to believe I won't fall off the top. It is inevitable, I am man enough to admit that. But when I do, I fall a couple rungs down. I'm still in the game. I don't hit rock bottom. Why? Because I didn't take a shortcut to the top. I cleared the entire road to my success.

    And now...Vincent Blackbird wants to put these six low level fighters in the same cursed boat as Cyrus Truth. As Nova Diamond. If by some chance they win, if by some chance they get to jump to the top of the ladder...they will fall, and fall hard. Just like Cyrus. And it's going to ruin their entire careers.

    This isn't about Orion, or Gerald Grayson, or Alyster Black, or Eli Black, or Kayden Knox...or Ashley Bell.

    This is about Vincent Blackbird. It's about the success he never had. And now he's trying to force success on a bunch of nobodies. I already tried that, Vince. It didn't go too well, just ask Ty Johnson yourself. No offense Ty, but it's true. Yet, Blackbird could not stand that while he stayed in the grave of the X Division, I rose from it...and I climbed the ladder when even I thought my ceiling was way at the bottom. I broke that glass ceiling, and I went to the top. And Vincent Blackbird watched me.

    And he couldn't stand it.

    It's why he ended a historic X Championship reign with by vacating it.

    It's why he costed me the North American title the same night.

    And it's why he scheduled this gauntlet match.

    His wrestling development brand FAILED because of his management style. And now he runs Fight Night as our GM?

    Where does it stop?

    Where does the madness end?

    Where d-


    Sullivan nearly jumps out of his chair. Stan does jump out of his chair.

    What the hell was that?

    Sullivan looks out the window of Stan's office door to see six thugs with waving their guns around.

    Oh hell naw.

    Not. Today.


    Back in the lobby of the bank, the six robbers are pointing their guns at every patron in the bank.

    KK orders AB to control the hostages. While GG and O work on breaking through a locked door to some steps that lead downstairs. Using a blow torch, the door breaks open. KK smiles and leads his crew down the steps, leaving W and O up in the lobby to keep their guns pointed at the hostages.

    Suddenly...The King steps out. Bulletproof armor now wrapped over his pinstripe suit, and a taser gun in his hand. He shoots both W and O. Every customer in the bank stands up and claps for The King, as his ego rises much higher.

    The King looks down at the two pathetic robbers, laying on the floor in pain, and spits at their direction.

    King Sullivan: And who the hell are you supposed to be?

    Sullivan rips off the hoodie of W, and sees an Ashley Bell t-shirt. He rips off the hoodie of O, and sees an Orion shirt. He chuckles at the sight of both.

    King Sullivan: Oh my goodness...An Ashley Bell fan? I didn't even know they made t-shirts for her. Unless, what is this custom ordered? When I saw Ashley on the card, I almost lost my shit in laughter. The Wave tag team has less wins than the French army. And the last time they DID win, Ashley Bell wasn't even there cheering them on. But as a singles competitor? My god, keep me away from that shit?

    And Orion?

    What a waste of a powerhouse. If the giant Viktor Maximus couldn't take me down, what makes anyone believe that someone like Orion could? Every time I read his name, I read it as Onion. Because he makes people cry with his pathetic wrestling.

    Ge these pathetic losers out of here.

    Stan comes out of his office in a panic.

    Stan: Sir, there are more of them. They got downstairs.

    King Sullivan: I know that, Stan. I am in no said it yourself, we have the most state of the art security.

    Sullivan struts down the stairs that lead to the vault, where the four other robbers ran off to.

    He sees his guards disposed off, and the trip wires disarmed.

    King Sullivan: Hmm, maybe they aren't as big of fools as I thought.

    Just then, King Sullivan hears a scream.

    He smiles, as he walks down the corridor into the next room.

    There, he sees the robber with the "AB" mask getting his leg chewed on by one of The King's guard dogs. Sullivan chuckles.

    King Sullivan: AB...Alyster Black fan, huh? Like you, he hides behind a mask. A 36 year old rookie in the X Division is a sad thing to see. See I just turned 34, and here I am world champion. This man is 36...maybe I can see why he'd want to take a shortcut up the ladder. I mean, it took me how many years to get to the top? I'll admit, something Nova did teach me is that my length of time is not something to boast about. I did take much longer than I should have. I have had my own detours. My own issues. Something that every rookie should learn to prepare for. They get a few wins in the X Division, get their confidence up, and then hits them. It all falls apart. The next thing old man Alyster will know is that he's 40 years old, and he still hasn't accomplished everything he wants to. What a sad and pathetic life.

    Sullivan shoots his taser at the robber and he falls to the ground.

    But before he can move into the next room...two more of the robbers come out, nearly choking on the poison gas from the other room.

    These robbers are the ones with the GG and EB masks.

    King Sullivan: Huh. Let me guess...Gerald Grayson fan? And...EB...EB...who the hell is EB? Man I really have to start watching those X Division matches. I have no idea who some of these people are. Oh, I got it. Eli Black.

    The Artist of Chaos.

    That sounds like a nickname made up by a middle school kid doodling in his notebook during 4th period Math class. And Grayson? I respect you least of all these scrubs. One of the many hidden patterns in the X Division is how rookies start out with so much success. They get a few wins against a few jobbers to let them settle in, and then all of a sudden they face real competition, and then they lose. And then they get discouraged. And then they leave, or get fired, or die of a drug overdose. Whichever comes first. You however, aren't even getting those easy wins. You are loss, after loss, after loss. And I imagine that part of you probably thinks that this is all for a reason. That this is some pure organic "everything happens for a reason" bullshit. You're probably reframing everything somehow to make yourself feel better. Well stop. Because maybe the fact of the matter is, you aren't good. And you never will be.

    Sullivan shoots them both with his taser, and walks through the room and into the poison gas room. Expecting to see the last robber dead on the ground. He doesn't.

    The corridor is empty.

    And so he walks into the final room.

    The vault room.

    And inside of it, is our final robber. KK...

    KK is looking up at the vault. That's right, looking up. As it's six stories in the air.

    But it isn't inaccessible.

    No, the only thing you need to do to get to climb a ladder.

    And all this time that Sullivan has been strutting around the bank, KK has been trying to climb the ladder. And here he still is, attempting to climb the ladder. Unaware that The King has been watching him all this time.

    KK attempts to climb up the huge ladder, but he keeps slipping off.

    Slip...after slip...after slip.




    Finally, King Sullivan speaks.

    King Sullivan: You're supposed to be the Kayden Knox fan right? Let me tell you this now. You will never do it. You will never climb that ladder. No matter how hard you try. You see, there are no shortcuts here.

    You have to put in the hard work. Day, after day, after day.

    Just like I did.

    If you really want what's at the top of that ladder, you have to earn it.

    And you haven't. You didn't earn it at the Carnal Contendership match. You slipped off.

    And you didn't earn it against me last week. Against me, where I was giving the lowest amount of effort, you didn't beat me.

    And now you think you will here?


    You will slip.

    There are no shortcuts. No matter how much Vincent Blackbird would like to make it seem.

    If you want what I have, you have to climb the ladder. And if you don't, then I will kick you off of it and send you all the way back down to the bottom. Just like I did for Cyrus Truth, just like I did for Nova Diamond, just like I'd do to any of you. And just like I'd especially do for Michael Garcia. Yet time after time you people keep trying to take shortcuts to the top. You keep trying to avoid the climb. Because why? It takes too long? It's too hard?

    Well TOO bad.

    I climbed the damn thing.

    So can all of you.

    And with that King Sullivan shoots KK with the tazer, and he falls off the ladder and to the ground. Sullivan then turns around, and walks out of the room. He shuts the door behind him, leaving everything pitch black.

    Some people are at the top of the ladder, some are in the middle, still more are at the bottom, and a whole lot more don't even know there is a ladder. - Robert H. Schuller

  16. #16
    The Maniacal Martyr
    ManiaxSimms1's Avatar

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    *A camera walks in to a beautiful elegant house where Alexandra Marie (clothed this time) is murmuring under her breath as she's drinking some wine*

    "Grrr, why does he keep losing? I keep telling him to keep focus and what does he do? He loses, for shit sakes, he better win or something will go wrong"

    *She notices the camera there*

    “Shit, I didn't notice you guys there, don't you guys knock at all, god, come on. Anyways what do you guys want?"

    *They ask Alexandra where Orion is?*

    "Orions not here, he's too busy looking at himself to notice the fact that he's in a match this week"

    "That match is a gauntlet match, to possibly determine the #1 Contender for the World Championship."

    *Alexandra drinks more wine*

    "Ah that's better, anyways, Chicago, United Center, the home to many championships, the Bulls and their dynasty (even if they beat my Lakers to start that dynasty), the Hawks (even if they rotated each year for a while with my Kings)

    *The Cameraman looks at her weirdly*

    "What are you looking at me for? Once again, Orions a pet project, and he fails, I'll find other people, trust me, I said it before I'll say it again. He fails, I fail, and I don't fail."

    *Alexandra takes another sip of the wine*

    “God that's good, and it'll be more good once he wins more, more wins the better the money goes, and with a championship, the bigger the money is."

    *Alexandra points to the pool out back in the backyard*

    “I took a dip there a few weeks ago, remember? If he loses, no more dips in the pool, more like dips in my savings account"

    *Alexandra closes the blinds of the door to the pool*

    "Anyways, I'm not going outside, I'm going to relax, and do you know how?"

    *Alexandra grabs her remote*

    "No I'm not going to Netflix and Chill, fuck that, I'm going to look back at Orions matches and see what he needs to do to avoid losing money for me."

    *Alexandra turns on the TV to watch Orions matches, writing on a piece of paper*

    “I think I have the answer but I ain't going to show you, its a secret that can possibly get me a win."

    *Alexandra is smiling, looking at her plan to finally snap the streak*

    “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to rejoice greatly, so you guys better leave."

    *The cameraman leaves as Alexandra's smiling more*

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