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Supercard Archives / Re: FINN WHELAN (c) v GOTH -WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

« Last post by Goth on April 12, 2024, 05:05:39 PM »

Final Opportunity part two

We see Goth and Melissa walk the sandy beaches of Zandvoort as his son is running around with their Labrador while enjoying the sand. Goth’s face is showing a broad smile, enjoying their son and dog having a great time while having his beautiful wife wrap her arms around his muscular arm.

“I’m so happy we came here”

Melissa says as she lays her head against his shoulder while pushing some hair out of her face as she continues to enjoy Goth’s son. Goth agrees as he nods his head and wraps his arm around her and pulls her tighter against him. The two ultimately stop as she wraps her arms around his waist as she looks him in the eyes.

“Maybe we should both just retire from wrestling and start our family here.”

Goth raises an eyebrow, not expecting Melissa saying this as he knew she had a desire to once again compete inside the six sided ring.

“Are you sure?”

He asks before kissing her on the lips, the two pull away from each other as he has that puzzled look on his face that she always thought was so adorable.

“I thought you wanted to get back in the ring?”

She lets out a sigh as he commented upon her statement, leaning her head against his chest as she presses her hand upon his heart as she start to caress it.

“I did, but the last few weeks made me realize that having Gerrit Jr. around all the time has caused my needs to be a parent to grow and….”

She looks away, trying to find the right words to say before she turns her gaze back to the man she loves so much. She smiles as she feels his hand brush her hair, pulling some of it out of her face as he stares deeply into those wonderful eyes.

“I want you to be sure, because I don’t want you to give up all your dreams just because you feel this way now. I mean…”

She places her hand upon his mouth, shushing him to be quiet as she gives him one of the warmest smiles he has ever seen from her. This causes him to melt as he nods his head and wraps his arm around her waist as they start to walk once more while enjoying the view of the long beach and Goth’s son playing with their dog.

“You do realize that you have a problem when I beat Finn Whelan right??”

The two share a small laugh as they continue their walk, they are a quiet for a few moments as Goth’s son shouts at his father to hurry up. Goth acknowledge it by nodding his head as he gives it his best shot to run after the youngster, knowing full well that after enduring so much punishment to his body that his son had the edge on him.

Melissa starts to smile, watching her husband run after his son and dog while the three of them have a good time. She thinks back to her question towards Goth about starting a family as this causes a guilt to come over her, reminding herself how much she enjoyed wrestling and will probably miss it very much eventually.

She turns her head sideways, staring at the small waves of the North Sea as she sees a surfer is being pushed aside by the wind against its sail. She admires the surfer for a few moments, realizing he is taking on an ancient adversary in a few of God’s creation in water and wind.

She remains standing there, wrapping her arms around her waist as she lowers her head, letting out a sigh as she acknowledges that she isn’t sure whether she wants to give up her desire to fight other competitors inside the ring ropes.

“Damnit Gerrit, why do you always have to make things so hard on me??”

She says as she runs a finger past her left eye as she felt a tear emerge, she lets out a deep breath while trying to regain her composure as she looks around as she sees Goth having put his son on top of his shoulders as they are approaching Melissa as Goth Jr. starts to wave towards her as she returns it with one of her own. The sight causes her desire to have a family with the three of them if Goth would ultimately retire.

“But I don’t want you to retire Gerrit”

She whispers softly before Goth comes gets face to face with her, planting a kiss on her mouth before telling Melissa and his son that he has booked a restaurant for them to eat at near the beach. Causing them to react in an excited cheer before turning to continue their walk, yet the doubt continues to roam her mind as the shot slowly fades.

A few moments later we see Goth and Melissa as well as his son seated at a restaurant enjoying their food while their dog has been brought towards his mother at their holiday house.

“This is great dad, I wish we could do this every single day!!”

His son utters quite happily, causing both Goth and Melissa to smile towards him as Goth puts his hand on top of his head and starts to run it through his hair.

“Hey!! Cut that out!!!”

The three of them share a laugh as Melissa excuses herself as she needs to head to the ladies room, rising up from her seat as she walks over towards the toilets as she opens the door and turns her direction towards the toilets, but decides to walk over towards the mirror and check her makeup.

“Maybe I should convince Gerrit to take his son to live with us in Manhattan, then he can continue to compete in the ring and I can still consider whether I want to return to the ring… Or….”

Her thoughts travel off as she sees someone walk in, the two ladies nod their head politely towards each other as the other woman opens the door towards the toilet before closing it again. Melissa sighs, places her hands upon the sink and looks at herself. The uncertainty about what will be their future after this coming weekend has caused her to second guess herself. She witnessed the return of her close friend Kat, cheering her on from behind the curtain as she competed inside the ring as if she had never left the sport in it’s entirety. And yet it caused her to want to run out and kick the ass of every Bombshell competitor that was booked on that weeks card.

“I know I still have it.”

She chuckles as she decides to turn her attention to one of the toilets as she enters for a few moments before returning again in order for her to wash her hands. The cold water splashes upon her hand before she starts to soap her hands and then washes it off before drying them. Through the entire time she could not help but gaze back into the mirror, admiring herself as that causes her to bring a smile upon her face.

“I bet some of the girls out there had let out a sigh of relief when I went on a break.”

That is followed by her closing her eyes and lets out a sigh, she had to admit she had missed the war she had with the ladies. She had enjoyed winning the title belts and sharing her success with the man that willingly put himself second for her to succeed. The thought causes that familiar feeling start to grow inside of her.

“I do not want to retire as well…. And yet…”

The sight of her and Goth with his son causes a different feeling start to combat the passion of her wanting to compete once more. This causes frustration to come over her as she is about to spin around and execute a spinning backfist, only to look into the puzzled look of a young woman that just entered through the door as the two women stare at each other in utter silence.

Melissa apologizes towards the woman as she walks past her, ignoring the puzzled look that the young woman had on her face as she walks over towards the table where she had left Goth and his son.

“Where have you been all this time??”

Goth asks with a smile upon his face as he puts some food to his mouth as he winks towards his wife as she sits down.

“I nearly punched some poor girl’s lights out.”

Goth raises an eyebrow, only to have his son beat him to the punch as he reacts excitedly to Melissa’s comment.

“Way to go Melissa!!!”

Melissa blushes a bit before turning her attention towards the plate that had been brought to the table in her absence.

“I guess I better start wearing head gear again.”

Causes Goth to say with a big time smile upon his face as Melissa growls at him playfully before punching him in the shoulder.

“Why don’t you finish eating Mister!!”

Melissa says as the two smile before they return their dinner, only for Goth to place his left hand upon the right of Melissa after he has finished his dinner. The two lock eyes without saying a word, but deep down inside the two already know what they want to do. The moment gets broken when the waiter approaches them and asked if they had enjoyed their dinner and whether they wish to have a desert.

“I want a sorbet!!!”

Says Goth’s son with an excited tone as this causes Goth to roll his eyes and lifts his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I give in…”

Melissa puts a napkin towards her mouth as she hides a giggle, they accept the desert menu as they take a few moments before deciding that all three of them want the same. Melissa watches the waiter leave before turning her attention back towards Goth who gives her a knowing nod with the head.

“What??”

She asks him as he shakes his head before taking a sip from a cup of coffee before turning his attention towards her.

“There was something that I wanted to save for tomorrow, but seeing how much fun we are heaving today I realize I can spoil the surprise right now.”

He winks towards Melissa before turning his attention towards his son.

“Gerrit, how would you feel about moving to Manhattan with us and stay with us permanently??”

The shock on his son’s face quickly changes to a verry happy one as he lets out a scream of excitement. He then jumps into his father’s arms as the two hug each other, making Melissa smile happily.

“I guess everyone can follow their dream so it seems.”

Melissa says as she and Goth stare at each other and smile as the shot fades.

The Final Stand. Rp 2

“The power of what you believe”

A sentence that is being written down upon a chalkboard inside a university classroom where we see Goth stand in front of it, wearing a black Armani suit with his arms behind his back. He gazes at the chalkboard, studying the sentence that he had written down before finally letting out a sigh as he turns his face sideways and acknowledges the camera crew with a smile.

“If you had told me back in the day that I would be standing here, my countries biggest university I would have told you that you are insane.”

He returns his focus back upon the chalkboard once more, the lines of his mouth slowly widens as he lets out a satisfied smile.

“I was a foolish youngster, easily manipulated by the promises from the wrong people. Believing that they had the best of interest with me, only ultimately realizing that I was just another pawn upon their chessboard of a crime syndicate.”

A moment of silence comes over him as his face hardens when he refers to the painful memories of his youth.

“I guess the promises of wealth and riches is too much for a young and poor teenager to resist, promises that ultimately sucked me deeper and deeper into shit. And who did I blame for all the problems that I got myself into??”

He cocks his head sideways, staring back towards the camera as he smirks.

“Indeed, I blamed everyone but myself. I guess that’s what people do don’t they?? Point a finger towards another, blinded by stupidity and never look at themselves for a moment whether they were wrong or have made a mistake. Yet, we are always right when someone else fails, never learning from the mistakes of others. How typical isn’t it??”

“So you may ask yourself why Goth? Why are you saying this? Well isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it ironic that our beloved world heavyweight champion tried to educate me?? The man who proclaimed to have his own prophecy… His own believes and even daring to educate me….”

He raises an eyebrow as he walks over towards the chalkboard, places both of his hands across the board as he scratches his fingernails across the fabric that causes a loud sound to be heard that sends chills down his spine. He finally stops after a few moments, turning to walk towards the first desk in front of him as he places his hands upon it and stares into the camera.

“You had a lot to say Finn, I was rather entertained by the Peacock references that you had made. And yet I cannot help but wonder whether you truly believe to have the significance all being directed towards me, yet instead I cannot help but smile at the similarity between that animal and the nature of our beloved World Heavyweight Champion. Because lets face it Finn, aren’t we all walking to the beat of our drum??”

He shakes his head as he hisses softly before taking a seat upon the desk in front of him, loosening the buttons of his jacket as he places his hands across his left knee and stares at the chalk board and the sentence that he had written down earlier.

“But I guess it’s all a matter whether you believe something or not isn’t it?? Whether you wish to acknowledge someone else’s words, how you wish to acknowledge my words and then decide to do whatever you wish with it. Can I alter your opinion Finn? Can I make you a believer??”

“It’s all a matter whether you wish to believe me Finn, I cannot force you to accept me…. All I can do is try and convince you that there is only one way…. And that way is straight through me.”

He closes his eyes, inhales deeply as he takes in the sent of the room. He lets out a soft laugh as he places his hands to either side of his body as he leans back a little before getting back to his feet and readjusts his jacket.

“Now I applaud you for your futile attempts to rattle my brains over a few meaningless questions Finn. Quite honestly, I wonder where in your ultimate wisdom do you ever assume I have either taken you or any other opponent in my twenty year plus career lightly?? Underestimating your opponent is the worst thing that you can do inside those ropes. But I understand why you took it that way, because you have witnessed firsthand the aura of invincibility that oozes down my body every time that I step through those three ropes and stare down any of my opponents. Puzzling your brain over the fact that you have beaten me for the first time in a one on one confrontation, because lets be honest Finn. You only gained a victory over me on paper when Chronic Chris Page thwarted my chance to stop you from securing a victory. But alas, a win is a win and I will grant you that as a man…”

“You see Finn, you can say all you want. No matter whether you are right or not, it doesn’t matter. Because deep down inside there is only one truth in life, that is MY word against any out there who wants to differentiate themselves from me…. Why? Isn’t it obvious Finn?? People want to believe without truly want to acknowledge the TRUTH when it stares them down face to face. There is no other way for me Finn, I am blessed with the burden of taking your sinful thoughts and deeds upon my shoulders just like I did with Austin James Mercer, just like I did with Alexander Raven, Hell I even am willing to throw in the name of Justin that I have faced on the last possible Climax Control… Because indeed Finn, it will be my final match when you manage to beat me one more time. I may have left this company a few times before, but never on my own terms that satisfied ME instead of the fans or management that have their own personal opinions of who they wish to have their strings pulled as the puppet masters they attempt to be.”

“You see Finn, it’s quite simple. There is nobody in this company that could fill my shoes as being your first title defence. There is not a damn soul that walks through those curtains and enters that arena that KNOWS that all of their attention is fixed upon that one person like I can…. Like I will on YOUR first title defence. So whether you are actually disappointed on the fact that nobody stepped up to the plate is nothing more than an excuse isn’t it??”

“And yet obviously you will tell me that I am merely an arrogant ass, you will tell me that I am a liar and will seek another excuse for why I should have another shot at that damn title. A title that in three plus years since my return I have only had one opportunity for before our Tournament finals Finn. Again, another weak example of trying to find an excuse to rattle my brain in the hope that I will lose my cool and show my “True Nature??” I guess you have at least tried, something that I have not seen from others that I have faced before and you know it.”

He slowly takes off his jacket as he carefully places it upon the desk before him after having turned around and starts to unbutton the sleeves of his buttoned down shirt.

“I guess you have not paid too much attention to what I truly said Finn, I guess your you only remember that what you wish to remember. A flaw in God’s creation that I should forgive while moving on right?? God sent his only given son to die upon the cross, to have people spat on him and make fun of him while HE only said to forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

“Isn’t that love Finn? Isn’t that a willing sacrifice that HE accepted to do even though you could ask yourself whether he should have done so? A willing sacrifice that I intend to put upon not only myself, but you as well Finn. The sacrifice that I am willing to retire IF I am unable to beat you Finn. Career vs. Title Finn… Because you have to understand that I wish to win that championship belt away from you for a final time, even though my career has been a satisfying one even if you look past Sin City Wrestling. Something that you can only dream about… And yet Finn, I want more. I am to the point of seriously NO return as I have already put my signature under the dotted line, having told to both Christian Underwood and Mark Ward that I will retire from Pro Wrestling the moment that I lose my next match. And I want you to look me in the eyes and understand something perfectly clear.”

The camera zooms in on Goth as he starts to unbutton every single button of his buttoned down shirt until his chest is visible.

“You ask me all these questions, because you don’t understand why I put myself into the position that you should be at. Not understanding why someone who lost still believes that ultimately I am the victor in everything…. It confuses you to the point that you scratch your brain while reminding the world what I have said about you…. About your chances of winning that title… And I will not change anything that I have said about you Finn, not even though I have congratulated you for winning that championship the last time we faced. And you know why Finn??”

“Because I am on that path that has been set in stone since day one, you may mock me for telling the world that I come back stronger, faster and whatever frustrated words that you could find inside that miserable brain of yours. I cannot change the direction that I am heading, the trail that must bring me to that championship belt that you are holding. Making it obvious that I am not having an ounce of doubt inside my brain whether I can beat you. Because history has already shown that can and isn’t that enough Finn??”

“But I will play along, I will show emotions beyond my reach and tell the world how much I dread to wake up on the day of the show when I step foot inside that ring. To step foot inside that ring for the very last time, have fake tears run down my cheeks as I desperately try to grab hold of final straw that will give me hope to overcome the odds that are seemingly impossible to overcome.”

“Wouldn’t that be something Finn? Wouldn’t that make people start to wonder? Will that create some internet buzz across the world, where some of my old wrestling matches will become viral in the mere assumption that after this coming weekend it may all be over for me?? No more Goth in Sin City Wrestling?”

He smirks as he shakes his head

“You see how easily people are influenced Finn? Because it’s all that they wish to believe, it’s all that they take from a few simple words and doubt start to creep down their heads. Because in their minds there is two options, I either win or lose… And that’s the difference between me, them and you Finn. Like I have said before, you can win the fight but I will always win the war. Because I have been a survivor since my teens Finn, I have survived no matter what people threw at me or told me. And guess what? You are just another example of what I have been fighting against to change their minds since my fucking teens.”

Goth points towards the board while remaining focused upon the camera.

“Do you know why I wrote that Finn?? I wrote that because you attempted to educate the world about people like me, how ironic to see someone like you comparing me with others similar to me. There’s nobody in this world that is like me, nobody can even come close!! So the mere fact that you are dropping your Oprah imitation because you read a book before the camera’s started running and the little bitches out there will nod to each and every word that you utter as if they are eating some fucking popcorn. And all I have to say about that Finn, don’t pretend to be anything that you are not. Keep it relevant, keep it to the point that none of us figure out that you are nothing more than a pretender.”

“And I’m not talking about the Prophecy, using it as an innuendo instead of truly believing it. But that’s alright Finn, because you are pretending to know something about a prophecy just like you pretend to know what it is like to be a World Heavyweight Champion.”

He hisses between his teeth as he lets out a sigh before running his hand through his hair before he turns his attention back to the camera.

“You pretend to pride yourself to wear that belt and be a champion like a Ben Jordan, like a J2H, like a Fenris.. Hell even like ME!! But pretending only get you this far in this business Finn, because you start to believe your own bullshit that you alter to adapt to anyone else. While when you talk about me, I am the one that acts like a champion 24/7 365 days a year. And I don’t care whether you don’t believe me, I don’t care whether you come up with arguments that I am a hypocrite or anything else. Because that’s who I am, that’s how I have lived as a pro wrestler over 20 years… And that’s why I believe that I will beat you like I did the last time. And just because you won the battle, does not mean that you are going to grab that flag and raise it in the air in victory over me.”

“So in that aspect Finn, I am going to school you this coming Sunday. I am going to educate you in what it is like to face a man that you proclaim to be desperate, while I am just thirsty for that crown one last time before I head to the sunset and look down upon the world with a warming smile. A smile because I have left behind a legacy that people like you need to fight for so much more and wake up every single morning with the realization that you can’t. And that’s something that you have to live with for the rest of your stinking life.”

“So what does that mean? It means that you can try and look to the past, but nothing from the past prepares yourself for the present and the future. And what does the present and future bring you?? A retention?? Or to look up when my arm is being raised in the air as YOUR next SCW world heavyweight champion. And that’s when your believe fails you Finn, that’s when your hopes will fail you. Because you can deny me, you can ignore me… And you sure as hell can quote all the past things that I have said, but I tell you like it is Finn Whelan. I will obtain that world heavyweight championship, or walk off and retire. But no matter what happens, I will walk off as a champion that I have stated a few moments ago. Something that cannot be copied by merely pretending. So enjoy your championship belt for now, because The Messiah of Pain is coming…”

He grabs the camera and palms it as the shot fades.

Supercard Archives / The Battle For PMV Ranch, P2

« Last post by Peter Vaughn on April 12, 2024, 04:41:51 PM »

~As the shot comes up, those astute viewers who watched our last video will recognize the court room where the proceedings against the PMV Ranch are taking place. We see Mr. Michaels off to the left, having a discussion with his client, Augustus Raymeth. They are trying to lay claim to the land around PMV Ranch, saying it should have never been sold to Peter Vaughn, but Vaughn and his associates are fighting the claim. To the right, we see the lawyer, Elisa Dartum, in furious conversation with Vaughn's fiancé, Sadie Anderson. They continue to talk, even as Judge Trebur makes his way back into the room. He goes up to his bench, taking a seat, before looking out over the crowd and taking note of who's there. He grabs his gavel, giving it a quick bang to catch everyone's attention.~

Judge Trebur: I do hope everyone had an enjoyable lunch. I believe we're ready to continue this case, but I notice that we're missing someone. Ms. Dartum, where is Peter Vaughn?

~Elisa gets up slightly nervously, brushing her dress down before stepping forward.~

Elisa Dartum: Your honor, I'm afraid that Mr. Vaughn has been unavoidably detained by a business matter.

Judge Trebur: Business? He's a wrestler, isn't he? He didn't get hit with a steel chair or something, did he?

~There are a few faint laughs, as the people in the room make sure to throw out a 'giggle' for the judge's joke.~

Elisa Dartum: No, your honor. I do not believe so. This involves more business from his ranch, I believe. But Ms. Anderson here is a top shareholder in the ranch, and she will be able to represent them here this afternoon.

Judge Trebur: Mr. Michaels? Any objections?

~Michaels stands up, straightening his own suit before answering.~

Mr. Michaels: While I find it a bit... callous that Mr. Vaughn would decide not to be here, I'm perfectly fine in continuing my case.

Judge Trebur: So be it. Call your next witness, Mr. Michaels.

~Michaels nods and goes to prepare, as Elisa turns back to Sadie with a frown.~

Elisa Dartum: This is a dangerous game your fiancé is playing, Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: That's about the only game Peter knows how to play. But don't worry. Wherever he ends up, Peter will succeed in what needs to be done. I believe in him.

~Elisa nods, before turning to see the next witness approaching the stand. She takes a deep breath, knowing that she's got to keep this case going... at least until Vaughn returns from wherever he's gone. We cut away.~

~We now find ourselves approaching a set of steel bars. It's a recognizable sight even for those who have never spent time behind them, thanks to television and films. We're apparently inside a jail. The camera continues to approach the bars, passing right through them in an implausible feat of technical wizardry... or just really good editing. Inside the jail cell, we see a man sitting there, scratching at his nails and looking extremely anxious. It is Anthony Jenkins, the brother-in-law of Augustus Raymeth, who was caught trying to break into Augustus' work safe earlier today. He sighs to himself, then jumps when he hears the door nearby slam open. He turns to look, as a police officer walks into the room, carrying a tray.~

Anthony Jenkins: So what is it? Time for another interrogation? I told you I didn't do nothing, man!

Sergeant Powell: Calm down, prisoner. You're getting yourself too stressed out. I'm just bringing you lunch.

~The sergeant moves the tray over to the side, putting it where it can easily slide through the bars. Anthony looks at it suspiciously, as he's never trusted cops.~

Anthony Jenkins: You guys are losing it. I've already had lunch. Hours ago.

Sergeant Powell: Ahhh. Well, maybe you could just call this a special mid-afternoon snack, then? A man has to keep his energy up, right?

Anthony Jenkins: I... suppose.

Sergeant Powell: Besides, it never hurts to have someone looking out for you, does it?

Anthony Jenkins: Huh?

~The sergeant tips his hat at Anthony, and then turns and walks away, whistling a tune. Anthony watches him go, looking like he's sure a few bats have escaped that man's belfry, before walking over and taking the tray. It's not like there's much else to do in a jail cell. He takes it over to the small, ratty bed and sits down with it, only now noticing that it's not just a plate of fruit... it's also got a note. Curious, he opens it up, reading as he begins to munch on a banana. He quickly loses his appetite, though, dropping the banana remains to the side, as he rereads the note. He then shakes his head, looking more anxious than ever, as he drops the note onto the bed. The camera moves in to get a good look at it.~

Stay Calm, Stay Cool, Stay Quiet.
You Haven't Been Forgotten.
We Know About Panama City.

~Anthony slides to the side, rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed, as he considers his options. He then reaches over, grabbing the note and taking it over to the small toilet in the cell, shredding it in order to make it disappear. He's made his decision. We fade out, leaving him to wait in his small room for what's to come.~

Sometimes you have to remind people of the facts of the matter.

Like, for instance, you, Milo. You ever heard the quotation where you can't see the forest for the trees? All you seem to be able to view is my "mind games", bringing them up multiple times. It's funny to me, really, that you think my best weapon is getting inside your head, when it's clear that I don't really need to do anything. I'm already dug in there deeply, as far as I can tell.

Sure, I took out Rodrigo to send a reminder message to you, but it was to test your reaction to it. I wanted to let you know that I'm still going to be ruthless, but I also wanted to see how much Miles Kasey has grown since I last faced him for the championship. Well, I got my answer. In your heart, deep in your soul, you really haven't changed. You're the same guy I defeated multiple times in the past. But I wonder, has your view of me changed? Will that make a difference?

After all, when we first faced off, obviously there was no mind games. It was you vs. me in a one-on-one match, and I came out successful. It probably sat there in the back of your mind, though, when we faced off for the Roulette Title. It could be why you didn't hold onto that rope long enough, allowing me to become the champion while you had to dry off after a dip in the pool. You just didn't fight hard enough.

After that, we have the World Title Tournament, where you and I faced off as equal champions. Honestly, I barely even acknowledge this win, probably because of how that tournament ended to me, but I suppose I shouldn't ignore it, should I? You felt like the superior champ going into that one, that much was clear... but was the uncertainty still in there, gnawing at you? Because you came up short again, with me moving forward in the tournament and leaving you in the dust. For a third time.

So will all those losses, stacked up like a Jenga puzzle, be rolling around in your noggin as we face off again? Will you be picturing me as someone you can defeat, or am I someone you just have to survive? Do I appear as the Boogeyman in your bad dreams, always taking away the things that you want? Or will it be the opposite? Are you working hard to see me as just another roadblock that you need to clear to be the best? That would probably be your best course of action, but if that was the case, you would have just taken out Justin and been ready for me.

No, Miles. I don't need mind games to win. But I'm not going to deny that it's still an advantage I'll make use of.

When you land your best moves and I'm still kicking out, I'm going to enjoy that look of anguish on your face, as you realize that the Boogeyman is indeed real... and he's ready to come take you down for a third time.

Sunday is going to be fun, Milo.

Boo.

~The picture shifts out to the ranch of one Judd Harrison, located down the road from the PMV Ranch. For the last year, Judd has been the main force trying to keep Peter Vaughn out of the ranching business. He always claimed that Vaughn had no right to be a rancher, having bought his way in, and it's hard to disagree with him. But Vaughn has persevered in spite of Judd's attempts to keep him from the cattle board and out of ranching. He's succeeded, which has just made Judd even more certain that he doesn't belong. It's also had the older man on his guard, which allowed him to realize that something wasn't right about his newest ranch hand, Cliff. That same man now sits in front of Judd, tied up on a chair, glaring at him as Judd limps past him, clutching at his silver cane.~

Judd Harrison: Now I may be an old-fashioned kind of man, but that doesn't mean I cannot be merciful. You just need to talk to me, son, and maybe everything can be forgiven.

~Cliff doesn't say a word, still just staring meaningfully at Judd, who just smiles at him.~

Judd Harrison: I know you were listening in on our conversations, and we caught you going into my stateroom. I don't know why you thought you would get away from us. This is MY land, son. I rule here, and nobody can just escape me without my knowledge. But as I said, we can end all this now. Just tell me who you are working for, and what you had hoped to gain from it. And I give you my word that you will walk out of here.

~Behind Judd, there is a minor guffaw that is quickly stifled. Judd glances that way, his smile faltering, before he locked the mask back on. He leans forward, staring deeply into Cliff's eyes.~

Judd Harrison: I treat my friends well, Cliff. Don't you want to be a friend? Tell me what I want to know.

~Cliff finally seems to react, as a slow smile cuts across his bruised face.~

Cliff Sterling: Mr. Harrison... I'm gonna decline that invitation to be your friend. I happen to know that you're gonna be going down soon, and I can't wait to see how it happens.

~Judd thinks about this for a second, and then smirks as he turns back to his most trusted ranch hands, the ones who won't say anything about what happens here.~

Judd Harrison: I think Cliff here needs some more special attention. I'm sure we can talk again later, when he's more agreeable...

~One of the men steps forward, grinning evilly, as Cliff begins to brace himself. But everyone in the room stops moving when a loud siren can be heard, building up in the distance.~

Ranch Hand #1: What the heck??

Ranch Hand #2: That's our coyote alarm! The cattle's under attack!!

~The two men start to head towards the door, but Judd stops them, eyeing Cliff before speaking.~

Judd Harrison: We barely ever have troubles with that, and in April of all times? No. This is a trick, boys. They want us to leave Cliff alone so they can rescue him. We've probably got another imposter on the crew. Who else is here, Cliff??

~Judd grabs hold of Cliff's shirt, leaning down at him. Cliff does nothing but smile back, making Judd want to wipe that smile off of his face. Instead, he lets go, stepping back, just as the door to the room comes smashing open. The two ranch hands turn, ready to attack, and grab hold of the man... before realizing that it's one of their own, a man named Cobb.~

Cobb: Boss! We need help out here!!

Judd Harrison: It's all a hoax, Cobb, you can trust me on this...

Cobb: No! Sir!! I'm the one who set it off! There are coyotes in the cattle pen!!

Judd Harrison: WHAT?!?!?!

Cobb: I don't know how they got in, but they already took down one cow and are looking for more! I need your keys for the gun safe, boss!! We've got to take them out!!

~Judd looks back and forth between Cobb and Cliff, before finally sighing.~

Judd Harrison: I'm going to go take care of this. You two stay here, I'm sure Cobb and I can handle it!

Cobb: Are you sure we don't need...

Judd Harrison: GET MOVING, COBB!!!

~An angry Judd Harrison storms out of the room, with Cobb right behind him. The two ranch hands look at each other, fighting not to laugh at hearing Cobb get told off. One then turns back to Cliff, who still can't do anything other than stare.~

Ranch Hand #1: As long as we're staying...

~The man steps menacingly towards Cliff... right as an object comes flying through the nearby window. It rolls to the center of the room, with all three men looking down at it. It appears to be a soda bottle that's been plugged up with something, something that's smoking. Within a few moments, the bottle pops with a loud bang, sending a cloud of smoke throughout the room. Everyone begins coughing from the fumes, as the door swings open... and Peter Vaughn steps through, wearing a COVID-style mask around his face. As the first ranch hand turns towards him, Vaughn unleashes his best shot... spraying Windex right into the guy's eyes!! He staggers back, screaming, as Vaughn turns and sprays the second man as well. They're both in agony as Vaughn turns to see Cliff, who's fighting his own tears from the smoke.~

Peter Vaughn: Be with you in a minute, Cliff.

~Vaughn then puts the bottle back in his pocket and grabs both blinded men by the head, smashing them together. They drop to the ground, with Vaughn quickly yanking them over to the side. He secures them together through a cabinet handle, using a set of zip ties to keep them from getting up. Vaughn then comes over to Cliff, popping out his favorite Swiss army knife to quickly cut away the cords holding him down. Cliff sags forward, exhausted, but Vaughn helps him up.~

Cliff Sterling: You didn't... have to come for me... boss...

Peter Vaughn: Eh... unlike Anthony, you've been a saint, Cliff. Nothing to blackmail you on, so I might as well just rescue you before they beat the truth out of you. Now let's get going. The coyotes will only work for so long.

Cliff Sterling: There really were... coyotes?

Peter Vaughn: I needed to get them off my land, somehow. This seemed to be a good way to kill two birds with one stone...

~Vaughn drags Cliff out of the room, heading for the other side of the property. He looks back at the two men still tied up inside the smoky room.~

Peter Vaughn: Enjoy the sauna, boyos.

~Vaughn kicks the door shut again, leaving them behind.~

You always have to beware the wolves at the gate, Milo. Even if sometimes they're coyotes at the fence instead.

I've been preparing for this confrontation with you for weeks now, ever since I learned I would be coming for you once again. I will admit, it's taken a bit of a shift in focus, being the pursuer instead of the pursuee, but I've adapted to it. I spent some time watching footage of many of your recent matches. It wasn't easy, but I managed to get through all of them, so that I could have a better sense of "the champion".

For instance, your battles with Austin James Mercer. You talked about ME trying to get under your skin, but he kept going after HB Carter, didn't he, just to incite you? Hell, I'm a saint compared to him. Maybe in the past I would have done something like that, but once you have a fiancé I guess that option goes out the window. Still, it almost worked, didn't it? You were distracted, and almost fell to both the Legacy Bomb and the Mercenary. If Austin had actually been able to equal the mind games with actual skill, we would have had a new champion at December 2 Dismember.

Of course, I know all about your next major match, in the tournament... when I cleaned your clock and got yet another victory over you. But I still watched the recording back, to see if there was anything else I could learn from it. The biggest thing I noticed? You tend to telegraph your maneuvers the later into the match you go. I mean, you all but told me "Hey, block this move, will you? I don't want to hit it." And I obliged, putting you down with the Keyholder.

Maybe you were still shaken by that, but you sure didn't perform up to snuff in your next major contest, tagging with Alexandra Calaway against Alexander Raven & Luna Pasilno. Now, true, Raven DID cheat by grabbing the ropes in that roll-up. But you weren't able to counter it, were you? So what's to stop me using that very same strategy, now that it's proven successful?

But these string of losses are getting old. Let's jump to My Bloody Valentine. Now this one, against Oliver Zahn, was a dream match, I have to say. Not because of the competitors involved, but in how the match itself went down. Counters after counters, some great stuff throughout. I must say, I gave this match a standing ovation once it was over. Truthfully, Milo, this was the first contest where I thought, this is Miles at 100%. And that's the one I want to see at Blaze of Glory.

This was probably the match that saved you some pain, actually.

You know what the "devious wrestler" codebooks says, Milo. I should have assaulted you in the back at some point. I should have tried to break an arm or tweak a leg, leaving you vulnerable for when we face off. I could have ambushed you at almost any time over the last several shows. But I chose not to. Because all-in-all, Milo, I want this one to be definitive. I don't want you broken and beaten until AFTER the bell rings.

I want to face Miles Kasey, Internet Champion, at his best, so that when I'm victorious, nobody can say it wasn't deserved.

When I come in there and end your long reign, Milo, it'll be because I've used every single bit of knowledge I've learned about you. I'll have you as frustrated as a kid playing a wrestling video game, helplessly mashing buttons with no success as the reversals keep coming. Truth be told, I want this victory more than any match I've had in 2024 so far. Because this will be the proof that I'm evolving in Sin City. I'm rising to levels I've never been before.

The wolf is at the gate, Milo. And it's ravenous for gold.

Be forewarned.

My bite is just as dangerous as my bark.

~As Vaughn gets Cliff down the hillside, Cliff has to fight not to fall. Vaughn holds him up, though, getting him around to where his truck, Gabriella, is parked. Cliff leans against it, fatigued, as Vaughn pops the back tailgate open. He goes to grab Cliff, who looks at him with a pained expression.~

Cliff Sterling: In the back? Really, boss?

Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean... you're a little bloody...

Cliff Sterling: It's just my lip. They hadn't done much else to me...

~Cliff winces, touching at his fattened lip. Vaughn sighs, then pulls out a handkerchief, handing it over. He then shuts the tailgate and turns, going to the passenger door and opening it up.~

Peter Vaughn: Just be careful where you put your hands.

~Cliff obediently hops in, with Vaughn going to the other side and starting up the truck. They drive off, leaving the borders of Judd Harrison's ranch. Cliff dabs at his mouth for a few seconds, before suddenly his eyes go wide.~

Cliff Sterling: Wait!! We have to go back!!

Peter Vaughn: Why?

Cliff Sterling: The documents I found! The proof! We've got to get it!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, those. I already grabbed them before I got you. They're in the back.

~Confused, Cliff looks in the back, where there is indeed a stack of papers placed in a folder.~

Cliff Sterling: But... but how? I never told you where I hid them...

Peter Vaughn: Please, Cliff. Once you said you had something, I knew it was hidden in the downstairs closet of the bunkhouse, on the upper right shelf.

Cliff Sterling: .... Are you clairvoyant, boss??

Peter Vaughn: Hah. That would explain how I've won so many wrestling matches, wouldn't it? It would give ol' Milo another excuse to hang his hat on. But no. I'm not psychic. I've just known for months about your hidden magazine stash on our own ranch. Figured you would use the same spot here.

~Cliff's face turns a little more red as he realizes what this means, swallowing for a second.~

Cliff Sterling: Does... does Sadie know?

Peter Vaughn: Oh no, if SHE knew, you'd already know about it. But I don't see the harm. Anyhow, that's how I knew where to find these documents. You got some good stuff here. Even I didn't know about the land deal between Harrison and Judge Trebur.

~Vaughn nods, pleased with the information, knowing he can make it work to his advantage. Cliff, though, looks a little more pensive now.~

Cliff Sterling: So... you searched the property, found the documents, and got them back to your truck... before you came to rescue me?

Peter Vaughn: Well, I couldn't very well do it in the reverse order, could I? You can't search when people are looking for you.

Cliff Sterling: But... but I...

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, Cliff. it all had to happen this way. Trust a guy who knows.

~Vaughn tapes the side of his head, as if once again referencing being some sort of psychic. He smirks, as he takes another turn, getting onto the highway back to Dallas. Cliff notices that they've taken a different direction than he expected.~

Cliff Sterling: We're... not going back to the ranch?

Peter Vaughn: No time. We need to get this paperwork into Elisa's hands as soon as possible. Then maybe a deal can be made, before my property is taken away from me.

~Just the thought of this wipes the smile away from Vaughn's face. He's been called many things over his wrestling career, and it'd be fair to say one of those things is definitely being possessive. He hangs onto championships, and he damn well plans to hang onto his ranch. The accelerator is pressed down, and the truck goes even faster, heading towards Dallas as Cliff just hangs on, still looking a little shellshocked.~

~As the picture returns, we now find ourselves outside of the courthouse where the trial has been taking place. We can see Sadie checking on Cliff to the side, giving him something to help the cut on his lip heal. She shakes her head, talking with him, before turning and walking back over to Vaughn.~

Sadie Anderson: I still can't believe that Cliff got attacked like that. I also can't believe you didn't tell me he was going undercover like that!!

Peter Vaughn: Well, you see... you would have said no.

Sadie Anderson: Damn straight I would have!

Peter Vaughn: And then we wouldn't have the evidence that Judd Harrison bought off Judge Trebur.

Sadie Anderson: But does that really solve anything? Technically, Harrison isn't even a part of this trial. Augustus is.

Peter Vaughn: True. Which is why while I was rescuing Cliff here, I had my custodial friends launching an operation on Augustus' safe.

Sadie Anderson: You... you what??

~Sadie's mouth drops open in shock, even as Vaughn just simply shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: I couldn't do it all myself. There wasn't time. And thankfully, they were willing to do it, although I will have to pay the college fees for one of their sons. But hell, I'm all about higher education anyway. Maybe I can disguise it as a PMV grant, think we could pull that off?

Sadie Anderson: But, uh, wait... there was extra security on Augustus' office, that's why Anthony got captured.

Peter Vaughn: Right, Anthony. I still need to get him sprung from the slammer. Eh, I'll work on that tomorrow, it's been a long day. But it was Anthony that got me interested. I didn't care about Augustus' safe until I saw how heavily it was protected. And trust me, a custodian can get into anything they want. ANYTHING.

~With that, Vaughn brings up his phone, showing off some of the pictures there to Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: As you can see, Augustus decided to keep copies of all his correspondence with Judd. Guess he didn't trust him. Smart guy, really. And from what he wrote, it's clear that Augustus wasn't happy with the way things were coming out. But he's in a bind, really needed the land, so he went along with it. I gave all of these to Elisa too, by the way.

~Sadie slowly slumps to the ground, sitting on the first step going down from the courthouse. Vaughn sits next to her, puzzled.~

Peter Vaughn: Everything's working out, Sadie, just like I promised. The ranch is going to be safe.

Sadie Anderson: You've done some... amazing work, Peter. Truly amazing.

~Smiling, Vaughn leans in, expecting a kiss. Instead, Sadie grabs the front of his coveralls, pulling him in closer to glare at him.~

Sadie Anderson: But we ARE going to work on our communication in the future, aren't we?

Peter Vaughn: ..... Yes, ma'am.

Sadie Anderson: And DON'T call me ma'am!

~Sadie pushes Vaughn off, leaving him to sit in bewilderment a few feet away. She can't hide the sneaky grin cutting across her face, though, as she thinks about all the good that's come out of this. The picture slowly fades out.~

Well, Milo... looks like the time for talk is over.

You have confidence in yourself, believing that you've turned a corner and you can retain that Internet Championship of yours.

I know the truth, and I know that I'll be wearing that title around my waist sooner rather than later.

I'm going to be bringing it all to the table, Miles, so I won't have any excuses, either, if I falter in the end. You'll have that win you always wanted on your resume. A victory over Peter Vaughn. It's meant a lot to others in the past, although most have fallen to me since then. I guess this could be seen as your golden opportunity.

And it'll be just that. An opportunity that goes nowhere.

And maybe you'll land on your feet afterwards. You'll have the tag tournament to fight for, and let's face it, I'm far weaker when it comes to tag-teams. Maybe that's where you can take me down. Or maybe you can, like I said, go for the Roulette Title... or maybe losing to me is going to propel you forward once again, and you'll be the man to take Finn or Goth down.

These are all possibilities. So is your potential retirement after Sunday.

But I don't expect that.

We're going to be all anyone talks about after Blaze of Glory, Milo, and you'll have to live with the conversations you hear. As we'll both be praised in the end, but I'll be walking out of there with a new championship to brag about, and you'll just be there cursing my name.

Remember, it's Peter Vaughn.

The Mechanic.

Aka the one who's going to make you take the Plunge.

Supercard Archives / Re: JUSTIN SMITH v ENTITY - HARDCORE RULES

« Last post by JustinSmith on April 12, 2024, 04:06:39 PM »

The scene opens up with Justin Smith taking a walk to find a good restaurant in Flagstaff Arizona. He stops to talk about being in the match against The Entity at Blaze of Glory XII.

Justin-I am looking forward to kicking some ass at Blaze of Glory XII, but before then, take in the sights here in Flagstaff. The Entity has no idea what hell that is coming his way .

Justin laughs before calling his fellow wrestler Ben Jordan about Justin’s upcoming match.

Justin-Hey Ben, do you have a few minutes so I can talk to you before my match next on Sunday against The Entity in a hardcore match?

Ben-Well, of course you can. I know how much you love hardcore matches. I will show you the ropes my friend. I’ll get a hold of some people to have a proper workout session.

Justin-Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Justin waves off the cameraman, asking him to leave so Justin can finish the conversation as the scene fades to black.

The following day, Justin is seen at his hotel room, getting ready to go to lunch, but turns to the camera to address his opponent, The Entity.

Justin-The Entity, I do not care about what you think about me, but I will make you show me the respect I deserve by the time this match is over. I don’t care about my win-loss record as much as putting on a show or the fans, as well as inflicting punishment upon my opponents. You will be hurting in places you never thought possible when I get done with you!!!!

The scene fades to black with Justin cackling as he leaves the hotel room.

Supercard Archives / Re: BARNHARTS v KAT JONES and HBCARTER

« Last post by Kat Jones on April 12, 2024, 03:53:42 PM »

A lying piece of shit… Kat always had known that Bea was just that.. And she was about to get exposed for it again.. Bill is not the brightest bulb and love does make blind.. Blind loyalty or blind as in just not seeing how big of a piece of shit his wife is.. Has become or always has been.. She does a bunch of stupid idiotic shit that lands her in trouble and then runs to her man to protect her but lies and twists what happened to fit her narrative.. Kat does not do any of that.. Her narrative is what was seen on tv.. She bumped into Bea by accident and Bea attacked Kat.. A big mistake to make Bea.. You see one on one Kat is a bitch as it is.. Now she is joined by her princess and together they are ying and yang and two sides making a whole as they are perfect opposites. One of Kat’s best friends.. One of her confidants and to be honest probably one of the few people in her life that truly knew her better than anyone else.. That includes the HellsGates gang.. You are going to wish that it was one of the Saviors.. You are going to wish that it was a singles match… You are going to regret messing with Kat fucking Jones and you will realise that you made the biggest fucking mistake of your life the moment you threw hot coffee at Kat..

That is for the PPV and the promo Kat was going to unleash upon the world later today.. For now though Kat’s life was about to take an unexpected turn and challenge her to the max.

Prescott Arizona

The phone ringing way too damn early in the morning is what woke Kat up, which is unusual as her sleep pattern is all kinds of messed up and has been for decades. She was wide awake the moment she saw that it was Mac calling and answered right away.

Kat : What’s wrong?

Mac : I am on my way to you.. Code Red Penny.

Kat immediately got up and grabbed some clothes from her wardrobe.

Kat : Penny? What's going on…

Mac : You got godmother duty for a while Kat.. It got out of hand between her and her mom and Penny called me crying her eyes out..

Kat : Crap.. I got the guest room finished yesterday so I can take her in..

Mac : I will be at your place in 30 minutes.. Please have some coffee ready to go.

Kat : Yeah I will make 2 of them..

Mac ended the call while Kat finished getting dressed instead of the phone to ear hopping on one foot tango she was doing.. 45 minutes later Kat was sitting next to Mac in his truck heading back to Colorado to go and pick up a teenager that is estranged from her mother.. That is how it looks to the world but in reality they are just too similar.. Mac held a teary eyed Whisper as Kat loaded Penny and her stuff into the backseat of the truck.. Not picking sides, just doing what she was asked to do a long time ago and that is look after the little one in case of an emergency.. And this definitely counted as one as the murderous glare Penny sent her mother’s way was a clear indication that things were not okay.. Not by a long shot.. That is how Kat got a teenager in the house.. A stubborn as hell teenager who’s wrestler mom is about as stubborn as she is.. Luckily the current shows she has going on are nearby enough that she can take Penny with her.. Perhaps Despy could keep an eye on her… Before they made their way back to Arizona almost the entire day had passed them by.. Penny had crashed in the backseat of the truck and Mac carried her into the house and put her in the bed. Kat had made her comfortable taking her shoes off and tucking her in.. Outside on the porch is where she let out the breath she had been holding..

Kat : I am going to need your help with this..

Mac : You will be fine..

Kat : Nah uh.. I am not cut out for this shit and a teenager…

Mac : You will be fine.. Besides you can always call me no need to ask..

Kat ran her fingers through her hair and groaned…

Kat : She is going to have to travel with me to Dallas.. The SCW PPV is less than two hours from here.. She can stay in the back with Despy.. But Dallas… Gonna have to figure that one out..

Mac : We will figure it out.. I am going to head home.. Relax and take the day off training today.. Not like you are out of shape..

Kat : Well…

Mac swatted towards her and as Kat ducked just in time to feel his fingers flick her ear.. As they both laughed.. Mac got up and hugged her close before a kiss was placed on her head and he headed home.. The champ is a busy man…

Promo

Kat had set up the camera as the porch got a red hue from the setting sun and sat down in the rocking chair on her porch.. Her feet propped up to the side on the railing..

Kat : Lies told on tv… Lies told on the internet.. I went too far that day…. Bea you are such a fucking piece of shit.. A lying one at that.. I rounded the corner on my way back from the ring and bumped into you by accident.. As I was saying sorry you threw the coffee in my face.. You attacked me not the other way around but… That does not suit your narrative does it.. Now do not bring up the past because the only times I laid a hand on you was when you were being a cheating little cowardly bitch and pulling off stunts behind the referees backs.. As per usual.. I should have taken you out of the game entirely then you would have had something to whine and bitch about.. I know you ran and tattled to your big man, telling him that I attacked you.. Hun if I had attacked you backstage not only would you have been wearing a damn cupcake I would have stuffed another down your throat to make you choke on it.. And that would have only been the beginning of your pain as I would have grabbed the entire coffee pot and poured it over your broken and battered body when I was done kicking your ass..

You would have been spending the time until the PPV in the damn hospital giving you a true reason to whine bitch and moan about the unfair treatment you got by my hand and a true reason to go bitching and crying to your dumbass husband who would not know the truth from your lies if it literally kicked him in the balls. I don’t do this bullshit lying thing you have been doing for as long as I have known you… For years it has been the same damn thing over and over again and besides that dumbass you married nobody is buying your bullshit anymore Bea..

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA I am the victim! Cry me a fucking river.. You are about as innocent as a twenty dollar hooker on the street corner west from the arena.. Probably got the same medical issues as said hooker as well.. If I wanted to attack you I would do it straight up and in your damn face but to be honest you are hardly worth the time and effort it would take…

Grabbing her steaming hot coffee Kat sips and smirks..

Kat : Yeah hot coffee to the face did not do much more than annoy me.. Got some cream rubbed into my face… I still got the same ugly mug.. I am still drinking more coffee than pretty much anyone I know.. Scolding hot coffee at that.. I don’t cringe at seeing someone hold coffee.. Let’s make one thing perfectly clear once and for all.. There is not a goddamn thing you could do to me that would make me fear you.. You are just a little lying skank that hides behind her idiotic lovestruck dumb asshole of a husband. Who is too fucking scared to say anything about the lies on the fear of losing the only woman that would even glance at him sideways.. So he lets himself be used as her defender and then both of you come out lying like the ignorant idiots you are.. Hey Bill.. If your wifey truly wanted to face me one on one… Why is that she is the one that demanded it to be a mixed tag team match.. Why huh? At a PPV where my friends and Saviors are already in matches is she demanding a mixed tag team match… Oh that is right… She did not figure I had someone that was more than happy to step in… Stop lying for once in your pathetic little life Bea.. You do not want to face me one on one because you are scared…And that is the first smart thing you have done for as long as I have known you… You clearly fear me… As you should Bea.. You should be afraid..

You did not want to face me one on one as I challenged you.. You made the tag team demand and I said yes… Does it mean that you are going to get off easy.. Hell no.. I am accepting the challenge.. Bill and Carter can watch from the corners how I dismantle you.. Twist your pathetic lying sack of shit carcass into a pretzel to the point where I hear the tendons tearing and your voice breaks mid scream.. You want to play the big bad evil bitch game well you got it Bea.. Unlike you I do not run and hide behind anyone.. I do not play those games of lies and deceit.. I just say it as it is right in your damn face before I break your fucking jaw.. So you both want it to be a one on one between you and me and I am more than fine with that as that was what I requested after all.. You are acting like I made it a tag team match instead.. Nah bitch that was all you.. That was you running to hide behind your man thinking it would help you.. Wrong.. Between me and Carter the both of you will be licking your wounds at the end of the PPV.. You were screaming victim before the match.. I will give you a reason to truly hate me and scream for a long ass time when I have twisted your body into a pretzel and make you cry right in front of your hubbie..

Kat drank her coffee with a soft sigh as it hit the spot..

Kat : I am more than fine with watching Carter do his thing and destroy your hubbie before I finish you off once and for all.. I mean if we are going out there we go out there swinging.. You should know better than to underestimate someone like Carter.. He can kick ass with the best of them and just because he looks way more fabulous than you could ever dream of looking he is not one you should brush aside.. You are both way too focused on just me and that is fine too.. Gives us even more of an advantage.. But taking him lightly would be very bad for your health.. If not by his hands it will be by my hands. The reason you both are focusing on me instead of on the both of us is for the simple reason that you fear what may come from me.. And you should.. I am not a nice person to those I don’t give a damn about.. Never have been and never will be.. And I never gave a flying fuck about either one of you two.. I would delight in making you scream in pain Bill.. But this is SCW and I have to give that delight to my partner this time around.. But you can watch your wifey become a little bitch by my hands..

She is walking around SCW backstage acting like she is the queen bitch of the division.. Nah she is not.. She is not even remotely close either.. She is just a wannabe bitch.. She is going to find out exactly where she ranks in this company.. The bottom of the pile.. The resident punching bag for all those that are truly ruthless.. And she is going to be the second person to find out that the Kat Jones she had known no longer exists.. In the ring I have no time or patience for her antics.. I am done holding back and I am going to show her exactly who the fuck she messed with and make her regret her stupidity once and for all.. And when this match is done and over with and she so much as looks in my direction with an attitude I will not hesitate to finish her career once and for all.. Do you see now what you have provoked Bea.. You have provoked the wrong damn bitch..

Kat had an evil glint in her eye and the smirk on her face was just as devilish..

Kat : Spin the truth until it suits you… Rewrite the events shown on tv until they fit your narrative.. None of it will make a damn bit of difference when I get my hands on you.. I know you remember this line… You heard it before.. Come Blaze of Glory… You are going to find out what happens when you fuck around with Kat Jones… You are going to burn and I am going to laugh while you scream in agony.. And the saying that comes to mind when I think about you.. Sorry about your damn luck…Yeah… Not really sorry.. See you at Blaze of Glory.. Pack a hospital bag..

With that said the scene fades to black..

Kat grabbed the camera and made sure it was send to SCW right away.. A bleary eyed teenager walked into the living room as Kat closed her laptop..

Kat : Time to talk little one.. What is going on...

Supercard Archives / Re: THE CONSPIRACY v BEN JORDAN and SAMANTHA MARLOWE - STREETFIGHT

« Last post by Alexander Raven on April 12, 2024, 09:31:29 AM »

A Conversation
Scene One | Off-Camera(ish)

He needed to have this conversation. He needed to sit there across from the man who was looking an absolute husk of what he once was. Alex needed to talk to Sullivan Pleasant about it all. About the shooting, the fake attempted murder, and the eventual self-surrender. Expedited court case meant that there was potential for Alex’s whole world to be upheaved in a moment. He needed to have this conversation.

It was a good way to prepare for the Street Fight, really. All the anger, all the hatred. Everything that was brewing up inside himself. He could take it all out on Ben Jordan and Sam Marlowe. The angrier he got here, the worse it would be for them.

So when he sat down facing across from him, he didn’t really know what to expect. Just that he needed this conversation. He needed to know what was coming, what was going on. What was expected. He needed to know what Sullivan Pleasant was going to do for the rest of his life.

“Never would’ve guessed that Pleasant was actually your last name.” Alex said, sitting across the table from Sullivan. It was strange, he looked ever worse than when he was being stalked by the man. A scraggly beard, his eyes were deeply sunken with heavy black bags under them. Looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His hair was a mess, and the jail uniform wasn’t doing much for his ridiculously slender frame.

“Wasn’t always that way. You'd be surprised what a little bit of money in the right pockets will do for your identity.” Sullivan said softly, the sound of a defeated man. If he was building to betraying Alex again, to outing him again, it didn’t seem like it at this moment. A man resigned to his very fate.

“So, why turn yourself in Sul? Doesn’t really seem like incarceration suits you.You just building to throwing me under the bus? Ruin some more lives whilst you're at it?” Alex said, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on the table, staring straight into the soul of the man across from him.

Sullivan just shook his head, and let out a long and heavy sigh. Defeated.

“I’m not young enough for this anymore, Alexander. That’s the long and short of it. I’m not healthy enough, I’m not good enough. I destroyed the last semblance of balance and happiness in my life, to ensure that man could move on without worrying about me.” Sullivan said, his voice soft. There wasn’t the arrogance and cock-sure bravado he once always had. He truly was a defeated man.

“So you kill one of the most important people in all of our lives, and then you decide you’re just a little too old for this? You’re fucking scum, you know that?” Alex said roughly, placing his balled up fists on the table. Leaning forward.

“I’d give anything to change that night, Alex. I’d give anything to be thinking a little clearer. To be a little more sober. To be happier with myself so that it never came about. I’d give my life right now, if I thought it’d bring James back. But it won’t, and I can’t. So all I can do is what I am doing right now. Be put away, be punished. There isn’t anything I can say that will fix things, and I don’t expect I’ll see any of you ever again. That’s what I’m doing for my penance, Alex.” Sullivan elaborated. Alex simply stared at him, staring into his eyes.

“You don’t deserve to simply rot out your days, Sul. You deserve all the fucking worst in the world for what you’ve done. But, if this is what we get. Then this is what we get.” Alex spat the words, a stern shushing coming from one of the nearby guards. Alex glowered in his seat, watching as Sullivan simply sunk further into his own.

“You’re right. I don’t deserve it, but this is the hand we are given. I do hope you and your lovely wife are okay after she saw you nearly paint the ground with my brains. I will say, I didn’t think you’d have it in you. I was wrong. Would have been a world of difference if that gun was loaded.” Sullivan said, just the slightest bit of cheek in it. Almost mocking. Even in his lowest the man couldn’t help but take jabs.

“But, there’s someone you should talk to. In fact, I’m sure they’ve already touched base with at least one of you. He’s actually coming to see me today too. Busy day before I’m forgotten forever, I suppose. One, Mr Ashton Mire. Representative of Mr Vita Mors. Reminds me a bit of myself actually. Just, a little more run-down. Good man. They might be able to help your mind, Alex. More than we ever were able to.” Sullivan went on, before one of the guards came over. Telling them to wrap it up.

“I don’t need the help of some fucking business slug and his magical Space Wizard of a boss. I hope you fucking rot, Sullivan.” Alex said, standing up quickly. Sullivan shrugged a little and nodded. If this was the last time he’d ever see the man, then he was thankful. Thankful he’d never have to deal with the weasel he once had called a friend. The weasel who had done everything to show his disdain for everything Alex had ever done.

Some small part of him was even going to miss Sullivan Pleasant. That was the worst part of it.

He didn’t even notice his feet taking him out of the visitor’s area. Back into the carpark. A cigarette hanging from his lips, absent-mindedly messaging Luna. Telling her he’d be home later. That he was going for a beer. That he was okay, and where to find him if she wanted to come for a drink too. She was busy attempting to prepare herself for the street fight. At the end of the day, he was always the scrapper. The one more akin to running people through and taking them whatever way he could.

Luna was… learning what it was like. She was a fighter, a brawler and a hard-ass motherfucker. But there’s a world of difference between what they had done, and what they were going to need to do. Animalistic didn’t even come close to describing it.

“Mr Rabenschwarz? A moment of your time, if I could?” A voice came through, breaking his fugue state. He snapped his head up, looking at a man who was standing just a few steps away. He knew instantly who the man was. Ashton Mire. The Head of Relations for Vita Mors Co.

“I don’t want none of your magic space dust, fuck off.” Alex said, spitting on the ground near his feet. A nervous laugh coming from the man. Considering how well tailored his suit was, it was surprising how slimy the man also came across. No sweat, but somehow shiny.

“I understand your reservations, Mr Rabenschwarz. Truly, I do. But I think it is fundamental that you give us a chance. Just a moment of your time, please.” Ashton said, his voice seemingly sincere. He was strangely soothing, in a way that Sullivan never was. Apparently a much better slimeball face than he ever had.

“What do you want, Mire? What could you possibly give me?” Alex asked, exacerbated with the situation. His eyes locked with Ashton who smiled, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a business card. He stepped forward and handed it to Alex. A simple black body business card, with a phone number in gold. Nothing else.

“We can help with a plethora of things. Mr Mors has a particular interest in helping you, not only dealing with these ‘ghosts’ of yours. But also help bring some closure to the loss of your friend, James. It’s something we… specialise in.” Ashton said, wringing his hands together. A somewhat nervous person.

“How do you know about the ghosts? And how the hell can you bring me any closure?” Alex asked, taking a long drag on his cigarette, before dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his shoe. He stepped towards Ashton Mire, visibly frustrated. Confused with the situation.

“We deal in… information that shouldn’t have. It’s hard to explain, but trust me. It is not a malicious thing. We just happen to be incredibly well-informed. Please, call that number when you can. We can help you, I promise.” Ashton smiled, nodding with a slight bow. He rapidly turned on his heel before Alex could ask any further questions.

He looked down at the card once more, shaking his head a little. Slipping it into his pocket.

“Surrounded by fucking maniacs, I swear.” Alex muttered under his breath as he turned to get into his car. Something flickering at the edge of his vision. Someone standing there. Not a ghost, but they definitely weren’t there when he turned to try and get a better look. Something flickering in his peripherals.

It was funny, how every time he thought things couldn’t get any stranger, the weirdness of the world was just waiting around the corner to get weirder.

Street Smarts
Scene Two | On-Camera

“So it comes down to this. A street fight. Ask me years ago, I’d tell you. There’s not a man in this world who can step to the plate with Alexander Raven in the streets. Ask me twelve months ago, I’d tell you. There ain’t a man alive that could go toe-to-toe with Alexander Raven in the ring. Ask me six months ago, and I’d tell you I don’t want this anymore. That’s a journey right there. That’s a fucking journey.

A street fight. Something beneath Benjamin Jordan and Samantha Marlowe. Ben’s made a big hoopla about trying to tear me down. To reduce what I do best, to something lesser than himself. That’s fine. I spend all my days being told how much better everyone is than me. I said it before, I’ll say it again. I know who the fuck I am. I’m the guy who people like to tear down. I’m the guy who people pretend it means nothing to beat, but they all scream and dance and holler at the world when they do it. Nothing and everything, all at once. Isn’t that right?

I’m still waiting on my thank you, Ben. Without me, you aren’t in this position, and that’s something to think about. This right here, Benjamin. This right here is us being the most important fucking match in all of Sin City outside of the world title matches. We’ve got that marquee spot when you think about it. And that doesn’t happen if I don’t push and poke and prod. That doesn’t happen if Luna doesn’t slam her arm right up between you. That doesn’t happen if I don’t get under your skin and beat your friends into unconsciousness. This doesn’t happen if Luna doesn’t punch your sweet friend square in the back of the head with some brass knuckles. Or take her out with a steel chair.”

“This doesn’t happen, if I don’t stab a god damn spike straight into your fucking skull.”

Alexander Raven is sitting on a dumpster. The lids closed, locked down with a padlock and chain. The dumpster is in a dingy little alley, walls covered in graffiti. Yellow lights line the walls and attempt to illuminate what little of the brickwork they can. The night sky is heavy, darkness enveloping all that exists beyond this little dingy haven of light.

“See the funny thing to me about all of this Benjamin, is that everytime I do anything. People want to see it. People want to see if I succeed or fail. It doesn’t matter who is in your spot, Ben. No, it only matters if Alexander Raven is there. And here’s something to think about. In all of this. Every week, every attack. Every match and every insult. Who are people talking about? It sure as hell ain’t Benjamin Jordan and Samantha Marlowe. No, the only names on everybody’s lips are Alexander Raven and Luna Pasilno. And because of that, you get the biggest match outside of our main events. You get to stand in my spotlight and attempt to be known for fucking anything more than being the guy who is as entertaining as dishwater. You might even get to be known as one of the people who beat Alexander Raven at his own game. Hurrah hoorah.”

“But what does that matter to you, Benjamin? You’ve already got it in your mind that I’m not worth the salt I eat, right? That I ain’t worth the water that I recycle. I’m not worth the money that they pay to keep me here, right? Because I hit my ceiling, and this ‘chair swinging nothing’ is beneath you. That it’s only through good ol’ fashioned catch-as-catch-can, real grappling that we are judged on. Our merit is only worth that, ain’t that right, Benjamin? It’s funny to me that people can say such negative things. But our current and last World Champions. They have only the best things to say about me. In fact, Finn has spoken at lengths about how I was far more deserving to be in the place of Goth. James himself had to go out of his way to train with a man he did not like, to learn a whole new style, to ensure that he could stand toe-to-toe with Alexander Raven.”

“So, it’s funny to me. That the pure technicians. That people like you, Benjamin. People like you try to belittle and insult me. Try and tear me down. Try to make what I do lesser because it is the only way you can justify your own existence. Stay with me here, I need you to listen to me. I may not be the best wrestler in the world, but I'm at least trying to be something. I’m at least out here drawing eyeballs. Being the chatter, being the talk. At least I’m the one that our World Champions have their fucking eyes on. I’m the one who people want to see, win or lose. It’s all about me, Ben.”

Sitting on that dumpster, Alex holds in his hands two objects. A staple gun and a metal spike. The two objects of pain that he had been threatening Ben with for weeks. A cigarette hanging from his lips, his wrists and hands taped up. Blue jeans, and a plain white tee. A man ready to scrap.

“But let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? It doesn’t matter that Alexander Raven is the man that everyone has their eyes on. The man everyone is expecting to just… snap. Who knows when it’ll happen, right Ben? Maybe this little street fight is all it’s going to take. Because I got to ask you something Ben. It took every little bit of you to try and put me out at My Bloody Valentine. It took every bit of you to even come close, and that was a stark disadvantage. I ran the field, and only just lost. Do you remember how it felt at the time, Benjamin? Feeling the blood pump from your head with every breath? Feeling yourself get woozier and lighter with every beat of your heart as your body threatens to shut down on you. Do you remember what it was like to be so out of your fucking depth? Chain wrapped around my throat, and the mousey bitch firmly in your corner.”

“I think you’ll find, Benjamin. That this time things don’t just go your way. See the difference between you and I. Between Luna and Sam. Between The Conspiracy and the ‘real grapplers’, is that this is the environment in which we fucking thrive. This is the environment that we excel in. The streets? They belong to us. The streets belong to The Conspiracy. This ain’t about just swinging around some chairs. This isn’t just putting on the beating until you're black and blue, with wounds pulsing red crimson all over. No, no. Ben, a Street Fight is more than that. This is about ensuring you understand what I’ve been trying to do. To show you that just because you got the ‘skills’ doesn’t mean you get to walk around like your shit doesn't stink. You don’t get to walk around taking our opportunities. You don’t get to be the big man in the tiny little village, when Alexander Raven is the King reaping your land for every bit of tax you can pay.”

“See, there’s a certain fucking art to brawling, Ben. An art I’ve tried my hardest to show you. Something you’ve done nothing but throw back in my face. Spit in the offering I make and then pretend like it doesn’t matter. No, Benjamin. No, you don’t get to simply pretend like this doesn’t matter. You don’t get to just walk away after the horseshit of a journey you’ve gone on and pretend that I’m not the saviour of your fucking career. One week it’s you doubt yourself. The next it’s confidence in being able to out-wrestle anyone. Then it’s admitting to me getting under your skin, denying the fact that you had already admitted to it. But oh, I’m the fucking delusional one, right?”

Alex shakes his head a little, laughing to himself. He pushes himself off the dumpster and steps into the alleyway, holding the staple gun and metal spike tightly. He raises the metal spike and taps the end against his temple, smiling to himself. A man lost in his own chaos.

“You’re hot and cold Benjamin. An erratic little bi-polar puppy who throws himself from the ends of the spectrum to try and keep pace. You might be a good wrestler Ben, but truthfully? You seem to be someone who is lost in their own short-comings. Your confidence is based on what is before you, and for the first time in who knows how long. You’ve finally got a little bit of vim and vigour. A bit of confidence, and you don’t even think to thank the man who has done everything to give that to you. I’ve been more than understanding Benjamin. I’ve been so fucking understanding. But now. Now I need to show you the error of your delusions.”

“See, this isn’t a wrestling match Ben. This isn’t a thing you can control. This isn’t a match where you get to pretend to be the better man. No, this is a match where we take you out the back, throw you around, hit you with everything including the kitchen sink, and then ask if you want to come back for a second helping. See, in this scenario, neither of you are safe. Are you going to be able to put your hands on Luna? Are you going to be willing to run the blades across her face? Are you going to be willing to choke her out with the steel chain? I’ll let you in on my gameplan a little here, Benjamin. I don’t care whether it’s you, or Sam that is stuck standing in front of me, oh ho ho. No, I don’t give a flying fucking damn. I’ll put this spike through her pretty little face too if I have to. I’ll staple pieces of paper, plastic bags and garbage to her if I need to. I’ll break your friend’s pretty little friend’s neck if I need to Ben. Because I want to see what happens when you are given no other choice but to fight.”

“Fight me Ben.”

He presses the staple gun up against the temple on the other side of his head. And then he clicks. Two small streams of blood began to flow down the side of his face. Adrenaline pumping causes it to flow a little thicker than normal. A smile plastered to his face.

“Oh, but don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Samantha. Oh no, no. I haven’t forgotten your pretty little head. See I think it’s sweet of you. Sweet of you to have gotten involved, stuck your nose in business that doesn’t involve you and then pretend like it was a sweet little gesture. Oh, Samantha. You don’t know what you’ve gone and done, do you? Charged headlong like a bull into a fight that doesn’t involve you, and then started demanding attention. A smart person would’ve seen that this was an attack on a man’s delusion. A bout of ensuring he was the best he could be, because I am a benevolent fucking man. You, you are clearly not a smart person, Samantha.”

“No, you see. You only felt the need to involve yourself because Luna made a choice. A choice to hurt Ben. A choice to help him see the futility of his actions. Luna made a choice, and that choice upset you. So you went to battle for your little friend. You went into action and what has it gotten you? Brass to the skull, steel to the skull. What’s next? A street fight where I get to drill this very spike straight into your head and make you wear the crimson mask. There ain’t no rules in a streetfight Samantha, and when it all comes down to it, there ain’t nobody protecting you. See I think. I think the biggest punishment for Ben’s transgressions will be to make him watch. Tie the boy up, handcuff him and keep him restrained whilst we beat his friend’s face in. Stomp and kick your pretty little head off and then make him watch as we pin you, one, two, three.”

“Your decision to get involved, is going to mean you get your head taken clean off. You’re going to wish Ben had never put you on our radar. You’re going to wish you had never stuck your nose in our business. You’re going to wish that when that bell rings, you could go back even five minutes, so that you could taste just a little less blood. Just hurt a little less. Your bones would ache just a little less. We are going to make you regret everything, Samantha. And then, you’ll only have yourself to blame. You can look Ben in the eyes, and apologise. Apologise for getting involved. Apologise for making us hurt him through you. It doesn’t matter who it is, but know this. Luna and I, we are going to break your damn face.”

He drops the staple gun to the ground, and suddenly the world shatters. Fragmented shards descend into darkness. Three spotlights illuminate the world that takes its place. An empty, black space. In one, Alexander Raven, in another Luna Pasilno. And in the centre, two body bags.

“I live in a world of my own destruction. A King who would be the slayer of all Kings. A man who is forever torn down, beaten up and belittled. Insulted and forgotten, I am more than the sum of my parts, and the sum of my parts is this, Benjamin. I will be King again, I will be the man who they all look at. I will continue to be the man who fights back against the corruption and bullshit of those who stand above us pulling the strings. I will fight against The Conspiracies that attempt to hold me down, and when I am finally free. When I am no longer bound here, you will all thank me. Thank me for making everything I touch the most must-see action that we have. You will all thank me for bringing prestige back to the Internet Champion. You’ll all thank me for being critical in the expansion of Mixed Tag Team wrestling.”

“You will all thank me, because I did everything to ensure that you had the best of the best. You will all thank me, because of that. That is what I deserve. I am the King of Sin City Wrestling. I am the fucking workhouse of Sin City Wrestling. I am the kingmaker and I am the kingslayer. And there is nothing you can do to stop that, Ben. There is nothing you can do to stop this. And you’re welcome. You’re welcome for me making you part of my journey. You’re welcome for me giving you everything you have right now. You’re fucking welcome, Ben. You’re fucking welcome, Sam.”

“You’re all fucking welcome.”

Alex and Luna turn to face each other, kneeling down in unison. Grabbing the body bags, and slowly dragging them into the darkness beyond the spotlights. Leaving just the three shining lights in a world of darkness. The screech and cry of ravens begin to echo and bounce around the space.

“Have you been listening? I need you to listen to me.”

“The Conspiracy is here.”

And then...

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

Supercard Archives / Re: JULIANNA DIMARIA (c) v KAYLA RICHARDS - WORLD BOMBSHELL TITLE

« Last post by Dreamkiller on April 12, 2024, 02:49:24 AM »

Chapter 37: Drinking to remember

Feelings are horrible. They are a double edged sword causing the human race to do great things but also inherently stupid things. Great works of art like paintings and poetry as well as songs are mixed in with moronic acts of emotional explosion. And as much as I want to disconnect myself from that I have had to admit…

I’m no fucking different.

As much as I want to be, as much as I want to pretend, I’m. It. I’m not different from any of you. I have feelings, thoughts and needs. And Finn had decided to take everything I know everything I felt. And shatter it. Going from a place of awkward but confortable communication and cooperation to having it out and pushing me away, only to tell me he was scared of losing me.

Losing me. Those words cut me deep but also gave me a warm feeling I never dreamed I would get back. It left me confused and scared. A revelation I hated. And now I found myself back to where I was a few days ago. At home.

With a bottle in front of me.

But this was different. Going from drinking to forget. To numb myself, to break myself, Toto this. Drinking to calm myself and think more clearly. My hand wrapped around the glass, filled with straight vodka this time. No ice, just burning clear potato sweat.

My phone buzzed. I knew who it was. Kallie, reminding me about dinner again. Take two of something we tried last week, when I instead passed out on my bed like a pathetic child. This time I was ready. Finishing my one and only drink and walked toward the door, opening it to let them in. Tasmin laughed as she stepped in but her demeanour changed as she saw the glass on the kitchen bench

”Again Kay?” I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. I was dressed in a tight white dress, my hair done, makeup done. She quickly realised her mistake and shook her head. ”Are we going to get to dinner this time?” Kallie stood behind her with a small smile. I simply gave a nod and laughed.

”yes! I am so hungry!”

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. Part of me wanted to throttle her. She told Finn where I loved. Told him where to find me. And on one hand that annoyed me to know ends. But on the other….i was too proud to tell him and I was glad she did. ”Kallie…” she raised an eyebrow and looked over at me as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. ”is there something you would like to share with the class?”

She went silent and blinked a few times ”No?” I stared a hole right through her. Staying silent and slowly folding my arms over my chest. Her eye twitched, she swallowed. And then, predictably, she broke. ”OHMYGODIMSORRYBUTIGOTAWHOLEBOXOFAPHMAUS”

Tasmin looked at me and then back to Kallie. I sighed heavily and looked at Tasmin matching her gaze ”I know that was English. But what is she talking about?”

”A small box with a plushie kitten”

”Yeah that tracks…”

Kallie looked down at her feet, tracing circles with her toe looking dejected. Almost wimpering. ”I’m really sorry.

”Thank you for doing it…” She looked up, caught off guard by my thanking her. Tasmin raised an eyebrow looking surprised. I smiled and gave her a nod stepping forward and tapping her on the shoulder ”You’re a good friend…I was too proud and arrogant…and petty…to give Finn my address….”

Tasmin smirked. ”You? Petty? Never.”

”Fuck off…”

Tasmin laughed and I shook my head before walking over to grab my purse. Kallie cleared her throat and smiled ”Did….things go alright?” I turned and gave a nod. They did. But I didn’t want to go into specifics. I moved toward the door and opened it before stopping in my tracks with a sneer.

”The fuck are YOU doing here?”

Kallie and Tasmin stopped dead behind me wondering the same thing I was. Aaron asphyxia, Finns ex-wife, trainer at Wolfslair and general pain in my ass stood before me with a giant shit eating grin on her face. She walked in, shoving passed me.

”Sure come on in…”

”I planned too.” I sneered and folded my arms. Aaron moved through my apartment looking around with an almost impressed tut under her breath.

I stepped forward and shook my head ”I’d give you the grand tour but we were about to go out to dinner. So if you’d kindly fuck off..”

”Oh Kayla. Charming as always.”

I growled. I couldn’t help it. Her presence just made me angry. As much as I respected her attitude and skills as a trainer I hated this butch as a human being. Kallie slowly shuffled over to me, whispering low so Aaron wouldn’t hear. ”I didn’t tell her.”

”I know Kallie. Don’t worry. I’m well aware that this ratchet cunt sniffed me out on her own.”

Kallies eyes widened she had never seen anyone speak about Aaron like this. And I could tell. Well aside from Finn of course. ”Nice place Kayla. I think Finn would approve” My nostrils flared she chuckled and shook her head as Tasmin just say back, bemused. And Kallie continued looking awkward at the entire situation unfolding. ”Not that he’s been in here though…right?”

”What is it you want Aaron?”

She moved into the living room, turning and flipping down on my couch, throwing one leg over the other and relaxing. ”I want to help you”

I laughed and shook my head stepping forward toward her. ”Help me?…is this a prank? I don’t do jokes so..”

”Just shut up for a second….i know you and Finn have been….going through a rough patch.” I ground my teeth together. She smirked. ”You need to make it all better.”

”Make it all better? How? Hmm? We talked. I know he doesn’t want to lose me. I know we are more than just “tag partners.” I folded my arms over my chest again. Pushing my tits together deliberately. Since Aaron is severely lacking in that department.

Aaron narrowed her eyes. Knowing exactly what I was doing before leaning in close. ”My god you and Finn are so alike it’s scary. Neither of you morons can get out of your own way to just be happy. All because of pride.”

I moved closer. My movements methodical and slow. Tasmin walked over behind me. Opening my pantry door and taking a bag of Doritos before sitting on my kitchen bench offering some to Kallie. ”Nooo we’re going to dinner soon”

”Are we though”

Kallie thought for a moment and turned, sitting next to Tasmin and plunging her hand into the bag. ”Get out of our own way? What would you know about it?”

Aaron sneered, throwing her arms over the back of my couch like some kind of supervillain about to tell me her grand plan. ”I know you spent months throwing yourself at him. Then on the night where you and he could have had your moment you did nothing” I ground my teeth together and took a deep breath in. It was still a sore spot.

”Right. My big mistake was not fucking him. I should have learned from you and not only not fucked him but instead fuck everyone else.”

There was silence. An awkward silence where you could hear a pin drop. Only broken by a sharp inhale from Kallie as she covered her mouth in shock.tasmin on the other hand stopped with a Dorito right in front of her mouth. Aaron pushed up from my couch and stepped closer. She wasn’t angry, or frustrated. She was annoyed.

”Look, Salem witch trials Barbie, I don’t have time to go into the intricate nature of the toxic relationship that he and I had.” she raised a finger and shook her head. ”But he is an idiot. As smart and quick witted as he can be he is a barely functioning man child when it comes to love..”

I swallowed hard and stepped back ”Love?”

Aaron threw her hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. ”Yes! You idiot. He fucking loves you. A fucking blind man in China can see it…” she loved passed me and headed toward the door. ”He just needs a little push…..so think about that…and enjoy your dinner…”

She grabbed the handle and I cleared my throat. ”Aaron….thanks…” she stopped and scoffed, shaking her head ”Try not to fall on any random dick on your way home..” I heard the door close. I was simultaneously more confused than ever. But, with clarity. I know, I’m a contradiction….

Dominance

”What is dominance?"

Kayla slowly smiles, showing her pearly white teeth and her raised eyebrows. Waiting for an answer that will never come.

”It’s a question that I’ve asked for. And something that I feel needs to be examined. At the risk of repeating myself like Giuliana does whatever she cut 50,000 promos and then decides to use the same thing over and over again I wanted to have a closer look at what it is to be dominant. Since she loves to throw that word around with her undefeated streak and try and act like it means something. So I’ll ask him what is dominance?”

She steps forward, her hands behind her back as she takes a power stance.

”I believe that dominance in professional wrestling is something you just see. As in you know it when you see it. But you can’t just be told what it is. When it comes to the bombshells division, you know that someone like Mikah was dominant. Same as Alicia Lukas and Amber Ryan. You don’t need to be told you can just see from their actions and what they did that they were the dominant forces in their time.”

“And you know that they had in common? They didn’t celebrate kicking cans. They didn’t celebrate the small victories over people who didn’t even belong in the ring with them. They strive to be the best and they want challenges day and day out. They asked to face the best and they tried to make them sure that the company brought in the best of face them. shit, Alicia Lukas talked Roxi Johnson into coming back.”

“Is that what Julianna did?”

“I’ll admit that eventually she came after me. But it took so much poking and prodding on my end to get her to make that challenge. It took Me calling her out in promos on television before my matches and mentioning her on Twitter before she would eventually make the cold come after me because I got her skin. she never looked at peoples records and wanted to challenge. She just wanted the gold belt because it was shiny.”

Kayla scoffs and shakes her head.

”Is that what being a champion is? Is that what being the top champion is? Pretending that you’re the best by having an undefeated streak littered with people who shouldn’t even be in the ring with you? Having a championship reign that is being punctuated by kicking around people who shouldn’t be allowed to be in the same room as the championship let alone have title matches? Is that the kind of champion you want to be”

“That damn sure isn’t the kind of champion I want to be. So before I get into the stupidity that you said last week let me just be very clear and frank on this. Because I feel like I need to make a mission statement when it comes to that championship and what I will do if I become the world bombshell champion. I will go and call out the best this company has to offer. I will go out of my way to go after people who are in other companies who I know can shake things up around here and be the best.”

“I will welcome the challenges from everyone. Anyone who actually has a good record around here who I think could beat me for that championship.”

“Cause what is the point of facing people I know I can beat? What would be the point in going after people who are beneath Me? People who wouldn’t be able to win if I had one arm tied behind my back had a broken leg. There is no point. Being a champion means pushing yourself and trying to elevate that championship higher as well as making yourself look better and bringing the division up to meet you. That is not something that Juliana DiMaria has done and to be frank..”

“She should be ashamed of herself.”

A small sneer comes across Kaylas face before she clears her throat an continues.

”But then again what do I expect from someone like you? You actually stood there and said that I take everything as a slight against me. Well, that isn’t exactly true. Part of Me can see why you have that impression. I take everything you do as a slight against me. Because you are everything that is wrong with this business and everything that is wrong with people getting championships when they are simply not ready. And trust me on this Juliana you will not ready. you fell into your position is champion by share happenstance. Almost like Rainman counting cards at the casino you somehow got Delta hand that was winning. And we haven’t been able to stop hearing about it since.”

“I look at you and see someone who is in a position that they don’t deserve to be in. You are holding a championship that has such an amazing lineage. A lineage of people who deserved it and some who didn’t. And instead of taking a stand and trying to be someone who deserves to have that championship you have floundered and failed and done nothing to prove any of us wrong. So when I see someone like you Walts into this company, have an undefeated record against people who shouldn’t even be challenging you, and then defending that said championship against people who don’t deserve it? your damn I take that as a slight. I take your existence as a slight. Because I am better than you.”

“I’m better than hell of a lot of other people who you have faced.”

“And as far as your little comment about me being the only one to deserve it in my mind? No. There are others who probably could’ve jumped up and had a shot at you. Bella Madison as much as I think that she rides on her family name a little too much and isn’t the woman who she needs to be still deserved that championship match against you. you could’ve called out any number of legends, you could’ve called out anyone on the roster. But you just let them handpick a bonus to shove it you who didn’t deserve it. So in this moment at this time with everyone else who is currently not in or injured, I am the one who deserves a match against you against you.”

Kayla shakes her head, getting more agitated as the moments go by.

”And the sheer arrogance in some of your statements makes me look like one of the most selfless people on the roster. And that is taking some doing because I am nothing if not arrogant. But, as far as your little rant about how I’m apparently some kind of delicate flower? I wouldn’t exactly call it that. You know what I am Juliana? I am passionate. I love professional wrestling. I might not like or love a lot of other things in my life but this business is something that I do Love and I will do everything to protect.”

“This business is somewhere that you can rise up from nothing and become something off the sweat of your own back. You are only limited by your imagination and you can do whatever it takes to get ahead. That is what this business is. This business is something that can take a little scared girl from Norwich England and make them into a star. So you sit there and call me a delicate flower because of how angry or frustrated I get about some of this? it’s passion. And if you don’t have a passion for this business that I do and you don’t want to face the best and be the best? Then drop the title and get the fuck out.”

“Leave. And don’t come back.”

“See that seems to be something else that you were wrong about. You called me a keyboard warrior. Implying that all I did was type about you on Twitter. Either that or you seem to think that I write my promos out instead of standing in front of the camera and say them. Which I also did and called you out every single week. but what would you like me to do to get your attention?”

Kayla strokes and steps back, folding her arms over her chest.

”there is plenty that I could’ve done. I could’ve come out and distracted you during a match. I could’ve stood at the top of the rampway and just watched you. But that would’ve interfered in a title defence. And then someone else who was even less deserving would’ve held that championship. so what else could I have done? I could’ve waited until a match was over and attacked you. Made a statement by beating you into the ground and standing above you and I could’ve held that championship high..”

“But, that would have been seen as a shortcut..”

“I could have waited until I match was over and then come out with a microphone and cut a saving promo on you out there. But I had already said so much in other promos leading up to matches that I had won. It would’ve seemed like overkill. No Juliana, I needed you to be the one to open your eyes and your mouth. you were the one standing there talking about how this division needed to raise up when you weren’t doing a goddamn thing to help it..”

“Your sermonizing only goes so far. You stand up on your soapbox and you seem to think that you can lay waste the entire division verbally and tell us all that we need to step up yet when someone does you then criticize how they do it. I came at you the best way I knew how by pointing my finger in your chest and telling you over and over again that you were failure until you finally acknowledged me and decided that I was worth your fucking time.”

“And now. Here we are.”

“This main event that you wanted so much is within your grasp. The only problem is that you are now facing someone who is going to snatch it from you. I already told you why I want to be a better champion in the new and how I will go about it. But all I’ve heard from you is excuses. All I heard from you last week in your promo was the same bullshit that you have thrown at me over and over again on the show. You haven’t said anything you haven’t come up with a way that you are going to be a better champion. You haven’t come up with a way to make the division matter any more than it already has you? You have done nothing but fail and you are going to continue to fail because your attitude will not allow you to see the forest through the goddamn trees.”

Kayla takes a long deep breath and calms down before laughing and shaking her head.

”I don’t no what is going to happen. I really don’t. You and I are going to get in the ring in the main event of the biggest show of the year. One of us is going to walk out with that championship and the other one is going to have to deal with failure. people know what happens when I lose. It happened before. I’ve been defeated and watch someone walk away with my championship. And all it did was make me stronger. All it did was make me come back after that same person with even more anger and venom and take that championship back.”

“I’ve been beaten.”

“I’ve felt defeat here.”

“You haven’t.”

“So how will you deal with it. I beat you and I take that championship I go onto keep on defending it and I will make that championship mean more. But what about you? You lose and then what? Your entire identity has been wrapped around this myth that you are undefeatable. This self perpetuated bullshit where you like to go out there and Reminders so if you’re zero loss record. You fell into a championship, congratulations, you have a great win loss record based off of facing people who are not the best. but when you make that your entire fucking personality? Then when it all comes crashing down and you’ve lost you have nothing else.”

“You need to come to terms with that. You need to come to terms with the fact that I am out to take everything from you. I will take that championship, I will take your undefeated record, and I’m going to take your entire personality, every single piece of being that you are that you were perpetrated to the world and shown yourself to be, I am going to take it all from you and I’m going to leave you with nothing. then, we will see what kind of woman you are.”

“If you lose then I’m going to sit and wait, I’m going to wait and see if you pull yourself back up and come right after me with the same venom that I go after everyone else with. Because this is a warning. Giuliana, if you beat me and you don’t do a good enough job to end Me? I’m going to come back after you better better and stronger than ever because this will not be over. I will hound you with everything that I am. So you better make damn sure if you were gonna come at me you better not miss. And if I beat you?”

“You better grow some balls and come at me the exact same way. Do you want to prove that you’re a champion? Do you want to prove that you’re different from everybody else? That’s how you do it. But until that moment you are still nothing but a scared little girl hiding from the best in this business.”

Kayla shakes her head and sighs heavily. Her eyes trail down and then over to the mixed tag team championship sitting on the table, she then looks back toward the camera with an arrogant smirk etched on her red painted lips.

Supercard Archives / Re: FINN WHELAN (c) v GOTH -WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

« Last post by finnwhelan on April 12, 2024, 01:13:46 AM »

PARADIGM SHIFT XVII // EVERGREEN
I CONFESS, I’M A MESS. I'VE BECOME MY OWN ANTAGONIST, LOST IN A WAR I’LL NEVER WIN. SINKING LIKE I'M MADE OF LEAD DOWN THE HOLE INSIDE MY HEAD. SO IF I'M IN TOO DEEP, BURY ME UNDERNEATH THE EVERGREEN.
ARANKAI

••••••

In the reality of it all, though, can prophecies last forever? Eventually, that forecasted story told of a possible future only matters if they’re in the near future. Otherwise, the belief in them fades away, and they become nothing more than folklore – no better than chaff upon the wind. For example, the storybook that men and women die for because they’re not able to look past their own feeble inequities – The Bible, if you’re not catching on – is full of prophecy.

Isaiah prophesied of a leader who would come from Yahweh, and he would take the shape of the sin in the world and leave everyone after him purified. Job foretold his own death. John, at the end of the Bible and probably in his acid-trip of old age, divined the entire world ending with four horsemen and demonic angels.

It’s hard to believe that books in the Apocrypha don’t fall in line with the other authors, but you know…

Everything is told how man wants it, not actual divination.

The end of the world is a story that is told time and time again, and in the early two-thousands, we had a book series that was fiction in which the rapture would happen and everyone who was not loved by God lived through the trials and tribulations of the prophet John. I can remember the chaos that disseminated from that, people thinking they knew the signs of the coming of the end of the world, and how much everyone in the non-secular circle tried to evangelize…

…or you know, The Harbinger book series came out and they predicted that the end of the world would come from the teachings of Revelation, that they had mathematically counted out the date and time. Yet that date and time passed like the end of the Mayan Calendar, and here we all stand, born from our shame and continuing our suffering.

The point of my diatribe here is to say that prophecies only matter if they happen in short spurts of time. Now, I said that this prophecy of mine would be that you fight and fight and fight and you push me hard and you show me that you want this championship, that you want everything in this world and the mantle of Champion in the face of an era that by all rights should be yours. You were the chosen one, you were the one that had the contendership and that was ripped from your very bones like the cake of an obese kid who doesn’t need another slice. You’ve had chance after chance after chance, and this time is your golden moment, the one where you’re truly going to trip me up. Because you’re at your best.

But your best is not good enough.

It is a short time away…just a few days, and here we are on the precipice of another momentous occasion where you’ve been given yet another chance to shake the ground. You seek to throw me off my game by calling yourself fucking Jesus of Nazareth. Aligning yourself as the goddamn Messiah again in some form of allusion to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Now, I’m all for some delusions under the sky above, but this one takes the cake. I’ve been wrestling for quite some time, and I’ve never seen someone so fucking touched in the head as to believe they are the new messiah of the world.

That pretty much goes against that cute little storybook you claim to believe, right? Didn’t the Messiah walk with the lame, hold counsel with men who were of little faith in the Lord, and be seen with the less fortunate and those dredges of the world? I can’t imagine any savior of the lost flaunting their worth with their five thousand dollar suits and looking like a pompous little prick thinking their shit doesn’t stink.

Or is it because your entire previous argument was littered with hypocrisies and inconsistencies that it would make someone with a bad neck get whiplash time and time again?

You need redemption and you’re willing to risk your career…but you’re also the best in the business and no one can hold a candle to you! But really, you’re ready to retire if you don't attain the championship. Oh, and if you don’t get this championship one more time after the billionth time you’ve failed to attain it, then you can’t rest on any of your other laurels because those don’t matter! But no insults to your peers, you just deserve more because…you think you do?

Oh and the fear comment? Cute, but nothing really in this wrestling business makes me scared. Disappointed. Annoyed. Sure. Those I can get along with, but it’s laughable if you think I fear you. The only thing I fear is losing the ones I love, and I’m pretty sure I don’t love you.

But also, the whole…The light I am shining! But also…I AM DEATH! RaRRRawaRRRexclaimationpointoneoneone!

If you were going for intimidation, try to think before you speak. I know it’s hard. You’re missing a few brain cells, but you’ll get there. Bless your heart.

And let’s be absolutely certain you understand this: I don’t fucking admire you, you limp-dicked bitchfuck. Your name was never on my bucket list, Goth. In fact, I would have been happy to have never faced you. I think you’re a stain on this company just as much as any of the other Saviours, and I don’t think their presence is necessary either. Look on the roster and tell me how many men on this side of the bracket are men that are worth a goddamn thing? Men like Alexander Raven have risen so many times from the ashes, have come back and created something with their own two hands. He deserved this more than you. Even when fucking Michael Harris was here, he worked his ass off to become the name that everyone wanted to attack. Even fucking whatever that wanker Crimson fuck that wouldn’t get off his own dick had more charisma in his pinky finger.

There is no fear stricken into my bones by anything you can say or do. And that’s not because I’ve put you behind me, or put you on the backburner, or whatever you think I’ve done. I know you like to assume the things that I have going on in my mind, but here’s the thing: I’ve made it pretty clear that none of you have ever been right in any assumption that you’ve ever made about me. I’m scared of this, I fear losing shit, I’ve underestimated, I’m not…whatever the fuck you want to sit there and say, the fact of the matter is that when it comes down to it, I know how to buckle down and do what I’m paid for.

I don’t need accolades to make me something in the eyes of the world. The second I resigned back with the company was the moment in which Christian and Mark got excited because there would be something different than the same old diatribe that had been glug-glugged out like an old, used pornstar on her five thousandth film. I wasn’t going to use the same old stereotypes or the same tired I’ma beat you like an old man shit that everyone in this company uses to try to get under everyone’s skin.

They knew I was going to assess the situation that I had in front of me and I was going to analyze and figure out how to come out on top. They handed me Kayla as a partner when we hated each other, and look at the brilliance that’s shot out. Shiny championships since October. I screamed about wanting the Internet Championship because I wanted to be recognized as being part of the cream de la creme of this company. Instead, I got saddled with a tournament that while I was utterly disappointed, I still made the best of every chance I got.

I turn the shit I’m given into gold. Quite literally. I have two championships and you better believe that I’m not going to lose either of them any time soon.

You see, Goth…you need this. You need this redemption, this chance, this opportunity because you feel like you’ve failed miserably and you need everything this match can provide you with because you, yourself, feel like a worthless piece of trash in this company. That you’re not able to attain, that you’re unable to do jackshit, and no amount of wordsmithing yourself as the Right Hand of God can erase the fact that you believe yourself to be nothing without this championship.

That’s the first fallacy of this business. You can be the demon in the closet that keeps even the strongest of men awake at night, and not have a championship. But this ‘If I don’t get it then I’ll retire’ bullshit is trite and pedantic and already made me yawn.

Look at the championship and tell me that it deserves a man like you, who will throw everything out the window if they can’t have it this one final time. Hint.

It doesn’t.

It deserves to be in the hands of a man who will fight for it no matter the cost, and who would be willing to fight to the end of the earth, through that tribulation supposedly prophesied, if it meant to keep it in their grasp.

What war have I fought and won, you asked?

This is a never-ending one, and I continue to win over and over and over again.

Because I am evergreen, Goth. And in your own words, you’ve already told me that you’ll never last the sands of time.

••••••

He stood at the basin in the bathroom of the apartment that felt familiar, but so far away from him. In the sink drain swirled clear fluid from the tap and blood from his hands. His body shook, and he was certain that when he showed back up on her doorstep, he would be back in the world of rejection and hurt just as he’d been just over a year ago.

He’d made sure to chuck his boots over the pier and to arrive back moderately clean, but the blood refused to wash off his hands. Perhaps it was an omen that he wouldn’t come out of this as scot free as he had been. But it was family. He had no choice.

He had no choice.

She banged on the door, and his eyes darted up to it, sweat dripping down his brow and across the sides of his face. He could hear her voice, but it seemed so far away, like she was screaming across the entire river that ran down the city sides. Everything felt like it was in a tunnel now that the adrenaline had worn off, and as he stood there, he could feel every muscle in his body going limp.

“What the fuck happened?!” Kayla yelled, not frantic but not angry either. It was a strange sound, he thought, to hear her sound both simultaneously concerned and annoyed.

He’d run down the street then, slamming the door to his Toyota Corolla with little more than an afterthought as he looked up at the name of the club. High Horizons. An epithet, he supposed, to the thoughts that its owner thought he had high hopes entirely. His feet slammed hard against the stairs and he merely looked at the guard with muted fury before being let in without question. Bodies gyrated and bass boomed, and Finn could barely see anything in the darkened decor with flashing lights that most clubs had these days in order to hide the criminal affairs going on.

His eyes darted across the scaffolding, looking above for any sign of impending trouble. It wouldn’t be like Kei to cause harm in front of people, but the lack of security was concerning. Normally, there would be men stationed in various, hard to see. But they weren’t there, and Finn had no clue where they could be.

He bumped into a blonde-haired club-goer who only giggled and waved at him as he tried to sputter out an apology. But it didn’t deter him. His eyes focused in on the door, ajar, upstairs on the balcony. Kei’s office. It was never unlocked, and never opened. Not unless someone was in there, or someone was in a hurry to be somewhere else.

Finn took the steps by twos, which was far too easy. He crossed the balcony area, shifting through the random tables and bartending girls, and stopped in front of the door.

Finn opened the bathroom door, and he looked down at Kayla’s face. She was utterly confused, a little annoyed, and shocked at the appearance of her tag team partner. As he turned and went back to the basin, he finished washing the final remnants of blood from beneath his nails. He braced himself then against the counter, closing his eyes and trying to settle his heart down.

“What happened?” She insisted, taking a step into the bathroom. “You went running out of here and wouldn’t even wait for me and I–”

“I couldn’t bring you with me.” He insisted.

“Yes, you could have.”

“No,” he turned his head and looked at her, blue eyes open and his nostrils flaring. “I couldn’t have. Believe me.”

There was nothing there, of course. A whole lot of to do for nothing, he thought, as he pushed open the door and found an empty office. Dickie’s phone pinged the same location he was standing in, so he had to be in this area. Or maybe his phone was just left somewhere. He bashed his hand into the door and turned around, looking back into the sinful solace of the club.

There were multiple levels, he knew this. But getting anywhere was going to be a bitch if there was any of Kei’s guards nearby. He sighed, and then headed for the hallway, noting that when he’d been here before, there was an elevator that took a key that he just so happened to have. He grabbed his keys from his pocket as he stepped into the metal cage, closing it behind him and then looking at the controls. Four buttons. Only one required the key. He stuck it into the metal casing next to the button and turned it, pressing the button immediately afterwards.

He swore at himself halfway down the ride that he didn’t bring anything for defense into this hellhole. And then, he swore at himself that he was going to die in a fucking club that played Tiesto, but that was neither here nor there. There were a lot of things left unsaid, and here he was, diving into a fucking den of wolves for a family member again that couldn’t figure out their ass from their front.

Nevertheless, it was eerily quiet when he stepped out of the elevator.

“I don’t know what started it all.” He explained, shaking his head as he sat down on the rim of the tub. “When I got in there, it was quiet. So quiet I could hear a fucking pin drop. There was nothing, not even a breath of anything in the air. I took a few steps in and it was just…silent. Dark.”

Kayla leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she listened. She thought maybe she could interrupt, but thought against it.

“There was a hallway that led to another room, and I remembered that it was one of those places that Kei liked to bring people because it was essentially soundproof with the club’s bass. I didn’t think–”

“That’s fucking obvious.” She scolded, rolling her eyes.

“--thanks for that,” he added, replying to her. “I didn’t expect,” he amended, “for there to be nothing down there, but when I got in there…it was just the two of them. Kei had his back to Dickie and I don’t know what was said…”

He pushed open the door and the blonde haired man was busy reaching for something in a cabinet. It was then that he heard the squelching sound of something being pressed into a body, and he watched as he brother stepped forward, pushing as much pressure on the back of the Japanese man as he twisted something into him.

Kei cried out, started swearing in Japanese and turned to take swipe at Dickie, who leapt out of the way while simultaneously ripping the knife that was in his hand out of the man’s body. Blood sprayed the walls, just like it did when Kei’s people tortured others down here for information, or for simply failing to follow suit. Dickie stumbled backwards, his grimy hair thrown into his face and he fell to the floor, stumbling.

Finn stared on in shock for a full thirty seconds before he looked between the squirming man on the floor and his brother, who simply stared at his own bloody hands in his own form of stupor. “What the FUCK did you do?!” He finally yelled, leaping forward and reaching down for his brother’s body.

“I don’t…I just…he’s a fucking parasite…I…I….” Dickie stuttered over his own words.

“We don’t kill a fucking Yakuza member in their own fucking house!!” Finn snarled, pulling him back while kicking the knife away from him. “The fuck are you, an idiot?! Goddammit!”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“Just what, lost your fucking brain somewhere in Cambodia?”

“He wanted me to fucking kill you!” He swore, and Finn stopped, looking at him with widened eyes. “I…I don’t know. He just kept saying nothing was going to go right unless you were out of the picture, and if I wanted to attain…I don’t fuckin’ know, greatness or capability or whatever the fuck, I had to get rid of the problem, and the problem was you.” Dickie looked up at him with the same pleading eyes he’d given his friends when they found out he’d tried to slit his wrists for stupid reasons. “I couldn’t…I....”

“So you killed him instead?!”

“Well, it gets rid of the problem!”

“You…imbecile…” Kei sputtered from the floor, and rolled onto his stomach. He looked at Finn and he looked at Dickie with a venomous expression of betrayal. His eyes fell on Finn, and he crawled to his feet and launched himself at the Seattle Saint. Of course, all of this took two seconds to happen, and Finn wasn’t prepared. A fist came down into his face, though it was not with much force. However, the heavy body of the Japanese man nearly being dead weight caused him to struggle to fight back, though he tried to blockade himself from getting hit anymore by the man. Blood spattered his clothes, his hands. Anywhere Kei touched.

Until he felt the warm spatter of blood across his face as the knife he’d kicked away was suddenly in the neck of the Japanese man. Kei Hideshima fell to the floor, holding a weak hand to his neck, before the life faded from his eyes. Finn scrambled to a sitting position and then looked up at Dickie, whose hand was trembling.

“I’m sorry…”

A thud of raucous footsteps sounded behind the door, and a few of Kei’s men arrived. They took a look at the scene and then looked at Dickie. His hands carried the blood of their leader, and everyone knew it. Finn’s breath froze in his chest. They could do one of two things…and one of them would be a death sentence for both of them.

Finn rose to his feet and moved past Kayla, who seemed shocked at the story just as much as he was. Finn shook his head. “They accepted his murder as a play for power.” He explained, heading out into the main room with Kayla following him. “Kei is dead. Dickie reigns. This whole night has been fucked up beyond belief.”

••••••

But what is the significance of the word “evergreen”?

Evergreen, Goth, symbolizes immortality and eternal life simply because their leaves continue to stay green through the entirety of winter. It’s why the pagans of the ancient world chose them during the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. And why the German Christians chose the Yule Tree. Everything dates back religiously to a pagan element, so why would this not be the same?

Immortality.

Eternal life.

Life and hope.

Growth.

These are all things that are representative of “evergreen”.

Throughout my tenure as a wrestler, there are things that I have done that have solidified my status at this point. I have won tournaments that no one thought I would place. I have been inaugural champion, and I have fought wars that you cannot even comprehend. My entire life has been a jumbled and chaotic mess, and what have I done time and time again except for stay eternally within the bounds of the top? Every company I join, I eventually find myself just a few matches in and I am suddenly the face of it, the man who can do nothing more than rise and rise again.

This isn’t because I’m given the world, and I am given a chance after chance. You see, ninety-five percent of the time, I’ve had to prove myself to the brass so they know just what I can and cannot do. I didn’t start out in this business the best – no, I fought for it. I’ve been a part of battles that you could never win because you don’t have the strength inside of you to pull it out of you, to become better, to fight for the things that matter. You already believe that they are yours by rights, and you haven’t had to contest for them the way I have.

I have fought friends.

I have fought with my family.

I have fought foes that would wipe the floor with your resurrected Christ carcass and I have succeeded and come out on top.

I am evergreen, because no matter what I do – if I slip and make a mistake and lose, I come right back again like an elastic band. I don’t search for redemption because I don’t need it. I don’t seek an end because I’ve still only just begun. This business is cutthroat and brutal, and the smallest amount of weakness you show, anyone will chomp down on your throat to say they’re better than you.

Eventually, the sun sets for all of us. One day, my bones may creak and my muscles may ache, and upon that day I will sit there and tell everyone that it is time that I ride off into the sunset and I’ll actually mean it. I have weathered emotional hurts, fought demons that no one can see, and yet I still ride without the thought of an accolade. I don’t do this sport to have a title attached to my name, or a list of laurels that show me as a competitor. You can have a list ten miles wide of things you have done, but ultimately mean nothing to the world once you’re gone. After all, it only cements some kind of credibility if you believe the places you’ve succeeded are credible.

I don’t know about you, but I think the fact that I am here again in such a short time says more than you would think.

The last time you won this championship, Goth, was over ten years ago. You held it for a total of sixty-three days after you hot potato’d it twice, both extremely short reigns. I won’t be a hypocrite and say my first reign was any better…thirty-five days, and I fucked it up because…well, I didn’t seem to give a shit before. I’ve held this out of your grasp now for fifty-three days alone as of today.

It has taken you ten years to get to this precipice again, and you’ve gotten a second shot in fifty-three days.

You said you were the best to face J2H, but ten years in the making doesn’t make you the prodigal son. It makes you look like you are being handed a dowry that you don’t fucking deserve.

Time and time again, you’ve tried to attain this championship. Only to have failed over and over again because in the end, you’re actually scared of what you’ll have left. Oh, you can sit there and tell me that you’ll try to be a fighting champion and that you’ll put some kind of legacy out there…but what happens when the thing you have been chasing for years is finally yours?

You lose your interest. Just like you did before. You were incapable of maintaining a defense and now, you think it will be any different? That you’ve finally become what you think you need to be for this championship?

Absolutely not.

It is the same tried tryst, a story about what you never had and the only thing left you have to acquire to mean something. If you’re going to put so much stock into a championship, you’ve already lost. Because it’s not about the championship itself. No, that is just an inanimate object set to show a placement in the stash. It doesn’t mean anything if the man holding it means nothing.

Paint yourself as Moses or the Messiah or whoever the fuck you want to stylize yourself to be in order to set yourself apart from the others but I want you to remember this loud and clear.

I am Finn Fucking Whelan, and I don’t need to paint myself as anyone other than who I am to strike hesitance in anyone that will come across me.

I am synonymous with greatness. Synonymous with the everlasting.

And I don’t need to blaspheme anything to get ahead. Go ahead. Try your luck.

Just don’t come crying to me when you come out disappointed.

••••••

“I don’t know what this means,” Finn muttered, sitting on the couch and looking at the confused expression on Kayla’s face. “I don’t know what comes of all of this and I don’t know what I can do about any of it.”

“Dickie…Dickie runs a fucking Yakuza clan?” She sputtered, dropping down next to him once more and looking out the window onto the darkened streets of the city. Her posters seemed to stare down at the two of them, waiting for them to converse, to finally have it out and figure out what their standing was. The television was on low, a monotonous tone that at least drowned out the beating of both of their hearts. She inhaled, and then she turned to look at him. “Do you think he’s going to make that beta male dingo his underling? Because it’ll go up in flames if he does.”

He couldn’t help it. He snorted and then laughed, loudly. Raucously. Like he hadn’t laughed in days and the sound of it finally lifted some chokehold on his body. She snickered slightly, and then, too began to laugh. It sounded in harmony and as if peace was near them. Like the thought of their lives having been fraught with so much and now there was the calm before the storm, a time where they could simply exist. And so they laughed.

And laughed.

Until they couldn’t anymore, gasping for breath and shaking their heads.

Once he came back to reality and the amusement faded, he leaned forward on his elbows, resting them upon his knees and looked at her. Really looked at her. Her looked at her black hair, glossy in the dim light, and her brown-green eyes, and her face. Looked at the smile she still had as she wiped a tear from her laughter away and then realized he was no longer laughing with her. He smiled, and without the hesitation he might have had barely a week ago, he cupped her cheek in his hand.

She didn’t try to block him. Didn’t try to swipe his hand away. Her smile faded and her brow furrowed.

“I love you.” Finn said, quite sure of himself. Maybe it was because of the night’s events, or maybe it had simply been something that needed to be said, but out of his lips it came and there was no taking it back. But nevertheless, it was true, and it had been put out there. When her lips parted, he shook his head. “Unless you’re calling me a dickhead bitch, then I don’t want to hear anything else.”

“Finn.”

“Think about it.” He cut her off. “We’re tag team partners, and I may not show it at the best of times, but I care, Kayla. I don’t want to fuck us up. So think about it. Think about if you want to be involved in…” he waved his hand upwards, and shook his head, finally looking away from her, “this. This shit with my family. And if you don’t…well, then I get it. But think about it. And tell me when you’re ready.”

He rose to his feet and smiled slightly, before taking a step around the corner of the sofa and heading for the door.

Everything would be changed. Maybe for the good, and maybe for the bad, but sometimes…

…to be unyielding and stay strong and true through all of the trials and tribulations of life were what it truly meant to be evergreen.

Supercard Archives / Puppy Love

« Last post by HBCarter on April 11, 2024, 09:22:23 PM »

You know, when dealing with teams - whether established or relatively new - it is not altogether a bad idea to occasionally take part in random yet fun trust and team building exercises. It helps to, as the very name implies, build trust with the one that you depend on to watch your back and to better assist you and said friend in establishing a more cohesive unit, two together working as one. And luckily when you have the world wide web and an active imagination, you could be spoiled for choices in how to go about this very idea.

There are Escape Rooms. Team Obstacle Courses. Scavenger Hunts. Tree Trust Walks. You see? The possibilities are endless! Of course, when you start to think outside of the box, one never knows what you might arrive at! Including…

“Yoga?” Kat said as more of a statement than a question in itself. She cast a sidelong glance at “her princess” and in a matter of days, tag team partner, as they stood just outside of the entrance to the Puppy Love yoga studio. Currently they stood inside of the lobby, which was meticulously clean and tastefully furnished with a single reception desk and plush chairs, not stuffy hardwood. Kat paid little attention to the name of the studio itself, but the fact Carter had told her to bring her workout gear and the view beyond the lobby through the glass doors; a large room that spanned the length of the building itself with yoga mats lined all along the room.

“Your idea of a team building exercise is yoga?” She asked, causing Carter to pause with a slight trepidation and sense perhaps he had made some mistake in assumption.

He asked, “You don’t like yoga?” He motioned toward her slim midriff.”I thought with that toned tummy, yoga was your best friend.”

“I don’t hate it.”Kat stressed, the smile on her face from his warm and genuine compliment being all too evident. She added, “But I had a bad stretching experience in yoga I’d rather not repeat.”

“I heard about that incident.” Carter shuddered, waving off her concern.”But don’t worry. I checked with the instructors and it’s just a twenty minute session and they don’t do the extreme stretches here. The only person I let stretch me in weird positions is Miles.”

“Again, TMI darling.” Kat then looked around and frowned.”Twenty minutes? That’s it?” She looked at Carter and shook her head, “That’s pretty short for a session, isn’t it?”

“Well it’s an hour long.” Carter answered. “But it’s twenty minutes of yoga.”

“You’ve lost me.” Kat narrowed her brow. “What fills the other forty minutes?”

“See,” He gave her a mischievous smile and nudged her shoulder. “That’s where the trust factor comes into play.”

Kat just stared at him until Carter huffed and exclaimed, “Will you just TRUST me???” To which Kat just rolled her eyes rather playfully, stating,”Fiiine!” and she turned to head for the women’s locker rooms to change…

Nearly twenty minutes later…

“Reclining spinal twist!” The overly perky yoga instructor – somehow aptly a young twenty-something blonde named Tammy, said just loud enough so as to be heard by all of her current students, Kat and Carter included. The class was only half full but at this time of day, it was not unexpected.

Kat in her black and silver workout attire, and Carter in his own colorful contrast, followed the example of the instructor and every other student as they laid flat with their arms out to the sides to form a T. They then bent their right knee, and lightly set the toes of their right foot on their left knee. Keeping their shoulders flat on the floor, they dropped the right knee over to the left side of their body, twisting at the low back and waist. They then turned their head to the right and looked down their arm at their fingers. All present held this pose for up to 10 breaths, then switched sides, stretching the back, hips and neck.

“Okay, everyone!” Tammy gleefully called out. “Rest pose! Happy Child!”

“Is it twenty minutes yet?”Kat stage whispered to Carter who was at her left, and he just smiled in return.He had watched the clock, knowing what was to come, and this last pose had landed at the twenty minute mark exactly. Despite the fact Tammy was cheerfully annoying to the point you wanted to drive an ice pick through her forehead, she was a consummate pro and timed her classes perfectly.

Everyone in class knelt on the floor with their big toes touching. They then sat up on their heels, knees about hip-width apart. They then laid their torsos down between their thighs, and let their arms lie on the floor at their sides, hands next to hips, palms up. They then let the back of their skulls pull up and away from their necks, and let the weight of their shoulders pull the shoulder blades wide. They were holding this pose for upwards of fifty seconds when suddenly Kat felt something soft and fuzzy nuzzling up against her…

She jerked her head upright in a start and was surprised to see the floor of the class was now swarming with a mass of bulldog puppies! The puppies were running in between all of the students and over them, running literally over their bodies and under! Everyone was laughing and enjoying the playful nature of the puppies as the one puppy in particular was practically demanding attention from Kat, attention that she was only too happy to oblige!

She shifted her legs around and crossed them and the puppy took that as an open invitation to crawl into her lap, it’s little tail going a mile a minute as Kat rubbed her hands along its little body and cuddling it. She looked up with a bright smile and said, “Puppy yoga!?”

To which Carter, with his own puppy in his arms and struggling to lap away at his face, just smiled and shrugged his shoulders with a faux air of innocence.

Turnberry Towers -
An hour later….

The front door to Miles and Carter’s condominium opened and Kat entered first, followed by Carter who shut the door behind them, locking it on pure instinct. As Kat had a seat on the sofa to rest and relax a bit, Carter walked into the kitchen area to grab both of them something to drink. He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and then opened the fridge to retrieve his pitcher of fruit infused water, his favorite drink. Carter enjoyed experimenting with these healthy concoctions and this time, he had steeped strawberries, oranges and cucumbers in a large pitcher of ice water,resulting in quite the tasty and refreshing treat.

Carter filed both glasses and returned the pitcher before bringing the drinks back to the living room and handed one over to Kat. “So,” Carter started to say as he took a seat beside his friend. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Taking a cautious drink, Kat ‘sort of’ smiled in return and said, “It wasn’t altogether unpleasant.” But she turned her head and the smile spoke volumes. “It was fun, princess. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Carter said, satisfied and somewhat relieved the day’s activity was a success. He then said, “I was hoping you would - oh!” He started as the “lady of the house” aka Ms. Thang, hopped up onto the sofa and gave them both the once over, her nose twitching.

“Oh hey baby girl.” Carter smiled with the love he felt for his and Miles’s adoptive little girl, reaching for her to give her a scratch behind the ears when she uttered a low growl and she turned and walked away from them both, her tail upright and effectively mooning the pair of them.

Carter turned to Kat, aghast. “What was that about!?”

“She probably smells the puppies on you.”Kat pointed out. “She’s never taken to me because she could smell my dogs.”

“Terrific.” Carter mumbled as the doorbell rang, prompting him to stand to see who was calling. “She’s going to be a handful until I get the smell off me completely.”

Carter unlocked the door and opened it, and his smile brightened, “Olive!” Yes indeed, Olive as in Olive garden, Carter’s friend and fashionista drag queen. The one Carter went to when he had a desire for something new to wear and she always came through.

“You’re early!” Carter exclaimed as he allowed Olive to enter, carrying a garment bag on a hanger in her hand. They did the expected exchange of pecks on both cheeks before Olive said in her slightly nasal voice, “Oh I know, dear. But I had a dinner date for later so I thought I should hurry over and drop this off.”

“Don’t you lie to me.” Carter shook his finger at her as she placed a hand over her breast with an innocent, wide-eyed expression that nobody was buying. “You were hoping Miles was here!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”Olive protested, but then proceeded to glance around the condo as if looking for something or rather - someone. Playing with her red hair, she asked, “But since you brought him up, where is that handsome fiance of yours?”

“Still at the gym, apparently.” Carter answered, taking a somewhat delight in Olive’s shoulders slumping and her half muttering, “Oh.”The near sixty year old drag queen had a crush on Miles from the day she met him.

“But here…” Carter said enthusiastically, remembering his manners. “There is someone I do want you to meet.” He said, guiding her with a hand on the arm to the living room where Kat stood up. “This is my friend, Kat Jones.”Carter introduced. “Kat, this is Miss Olive Garden.”

Olive gave that comical squinty-eyed, scrunchy nose and toothy smile she was famous for, taking Kat’s extended hand. “Olive.” Kat said amicably.

“Oh well aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Olive said, keeping hold of Kat’s hand. “C’mon, give us a twirl.” Olive guided Kat in a gentle spin whether she wanted to or not, and Olive gasped, “Well you MUST be a runway model!”

“And you must be blind.” Kat said in return as she resumed her seat. Olive turned to Carter and said, “Oh hunny, I like her!” Just as the door to the condo opened once again, and in walked Miles. He was wearing blue and white spandex shorts that accentuated his backside and a sleeveless muscle shirt that showed off a lot of his tantalizing upper body muscularity.

“Hey luv.”Miles said as he set his gym bag down and gave Carter a kiss, before he looked at the gaping visage of Olive. “Olive.” he smiled as he walked past them and leaned over the coffee table to give Kat a hug. Noting both Carter and Olive’s eyes were glued to Miles’s backside as he stood upright but they managed to tear themselves away as he turned at the waist to address his man.

“I’ll go get changed.” Miles said as he jetted a thumb toward the hall and their bedroom. “Then we can all go grab dinner.” He then turned and walked off, Olive doing that Michael Jackson leaning pose before she almost fell forward were it not for Carter’s fast reflexes.

“Are you okay?” Carter laughed as Olive’s gaze switched back and forth between Carter and the direction Miles had vanished in.

“I think I came untucked!” Olive said, causing Kat to spew her water!

In an empty dressing room, Carter is seen fitting something into a locker, subtly shifting his body to keep whatever it was hidden from view. Sensing someone else present behind him, Carter glanced back over his shoulder and hurriedly slammed the locker shut, placing his back against it so there was no chance of the camera nor viewers getting a look at what he was keeping away from prying eyes.

“So!”

He clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together, smiling in glee.

“Here we are! Blaze of Glory XII and me standing at the side of my Kitty Kat so that she can get her hands on SCW’s answer to a Karen, that two-faced shrew of a woman, Bea Barnhart. And to tell you the truth, from the moment Kitty Kat was looking for a partner and I accepted, I’ve been more excited because I’m experiencing something new. Ariana is my bestie, my sister and my forever tag team partner and always will be! But while she’s busy elsewhere, Kat needs me and I am going to be there for her. I get to experience something new in teaming with her, and to experience the familiar because I have been in the ring with the Bulldog before. But here’s where things have taken a slight detour, and we have the Barnharts to thank for that. Or at least, one of them. The Bulldog himself, Bill Barnhart.”

Carter stood upright from the locker, but remained between it and the camera to prevent any looky loos from seeing what was behind closed doors.

“Now, last time around, Bill asked me a question, and he told me that I was free to answer or not. Well, you know me. I’d be likely to answer whether he gave me the green light or not. I’m opinionated, it’s just what my people do.”

He winked at the camera.

“Now the question you asked me of me Bill, that we have the women start and every time one of them tags out, you and I abstain from wrestling and instead, we just tag right back out and let them resume fighting to end this little scuffle between them. Have I got that right?”

He jetted out his lower lip, chin resting atop his curled fingers and he nodded.

“Well Bulldog - or if I can call you Bill? That is an interesting proposition, I grant you. A tempting one, even. But you see, whether I accept or not there is one little problem with that, that I think we should address. I guess the nicest way of phrasing it is…”

He frowned and shook his head.

“What exactly makes you think both parties will agree to this? I mean, I’m certain Kat would be more than happy to stay in the ring to turn Bea into a can of Alpo, but Bea herself? Let’s not forget the reason why we’re here, Bill! It’s because Bea - your wife - was unwilling to face Kat one on one! She refused the option of being alone in the ring with Kat to the point the match makers had to satiate her with a mixed tag team match instead! She was willing to only sign with this match if it was a tag team match with you at her side.”

He waggled his brow.

“Do you understand what I’m getting at, Bill? It’s right back to where we left off last time around. I understand as a married couple, you and Bea have to present a united front. I understand that as a loving husband, you have to support her - even when she’s wrong. You can ignore the facts but the rest of the world can not and will not give her the same luxury! If you and I tag in and then do as you propose and I tag back out, I am all too certain that Kat will happily accept! But Bea? If she wasn’t willing to face Kat one on one, what makes you think she’ll tag back in? Hell! What makes you think she’ll even be willing to start the match against Kat in the first place!?”

Carter tilted his head and looked into the camera knowingly.

“Think about it, Bill. You’re a bright boy! This time, it seems that your wife just might have backed you into a corner that you won’t be able to get out of!”

Arms held out wide, Carter walked forward, effectively ushering the camera out and shut the locker room door behind it.

Supercard Archives / Re: BARNHARTS v KAT JONES and HBCARTER

« Last post by Andrew on April 11, 2024, 03:42:18 PM »

MIXED TAG TEAM MATCH VERSUS KAT AND CARTER – PART TWO

After Bea has stepped out of camera view Bill steps in front of the camera where Bea was previously standing. The wrestling ring at the Walkup Skydome is behind Bill as it was behind Bea during her comments for their upcoming Mixed Tag Team match against Kat Jones and Helluva Bottom Carter.

Bill: Bea sure did present some interesting comments, facts, and information, that is probably driving Kat and Carter more insane than the two of them already are. Bea mentioned about the fact that I want to make an agreement with Carter that whenever one of the women want to tag out that the two of us just jump into the ring to get Kat and Bea fighting again. Why would I want to do that? Because Bea and Kat have some issues they need to work out. Me and Carter don’t have any issues that I know of. In fact I like Helluva Bottom Carter for being an exceptional wrestler.

Bill gives a smile into the camera.

Bill: As much as I want to win our Mixed Tag Temm match I honestly do not want to win the match by defeating Carter. I want Bea and Kat to remain in the ring as often as me and Carter can make that happen. That way when Bea defeats Kat then Kat would stop running her mouth and spewing forth the dozens of lies about Bea that she has been telling everyone for a long time. But you all know what type of wrestler I am. I go into every match to give my best performance. I go into every match with the intention to win the match. I would feel bad if I get the win over Carter which means we let Kat and Bea have it easy in the match. Whatever happens. . .happens...as the saying goes.

Bill gives a huge grin into the camera this time and then he informs the camera person that he will make his closing comments and when he is done with his closing comments the camera person can cut their camera feed.

Bill: So Kat. . .so Carter. . .we will have to wait until our match starts to see how the match goes. As long as we all abide and obey the rules of our match everything will be fine. If you two wish to disobey the rules of our match then me and Bea will not be held responsible for the amount of damage we inflict upon you two. With that said I will close my comments by telling you that I look forward to our match at BLAZE OF GLORY 12.

Bill finishes his comments and he steps to the side and he goes out of camera view. The camera person calls into the Network and the Network cuts the feed to their camera and our screen goes dark.

100

Supercard Archives / Re: BARNHARTS v KAT JONES and HBCARTER

« Last post by Andrew on April 11, 2024, 03:41:16 PM »

ACCUSATIONS GET RESULTS

The scene opens at the Walkup Skydome on Flagstaff, Arizona. The assigned camera person gets a shot of Bea Barnhart who is standing in front of the wrestling ring where the matches for Blaze of Glory 12 matches will take place. Bea looks into the camera to present comments for her and Bill’s upcoming Mixed Tag Team match against Kat Jones and Helluva Bottom Carter.

Bea: I wish to thank those viewing my comments today as I have some items to talk about. The first item is the concept that ACCUSATIONS GET RESULTS and that is especially true when the majority of the accusations are false.

Bill: Bea told me what she was going to talk about today so I will try to stay silent while she presents her comments.

Bea: In this wrestling ring behind me our team will defeat the team of Kat and Carter. After our win that will lead both me and Bill into more Championship matches. But that is not the reason I am commenting today. My comments for today revolve around the fact that there are so many people in the world that no matter what you say they always say the opposite. I had many so-called friends who did that to me. I would tell them I like a certain music group and they would immediately comment how they hate that music group and will never listen to their music again. So a week or two later I tried some psychology on them. I would walk up to them and tell them I hate the certain music group, which I previously told them I liked to listen to, and immediately my friends, without thinking about their response, blurs out that they love that music group and they cannot understand why I do not like that group. When I call them out for being a hypocrite they then try to claim they never said they hated that group that I liked. Just goes to show that some people do not talk logic or sense as they are only capable of saying the opposite of what others say.

Bill: And here it comes. . .

Bea: Kat and Carter are exactly like those friends do did that to me. All Kat and Carter did was say the opposite of what I said in my first round of comments for our match. Think hard on that okay, They were not able to use hard evidence to counter nearly everything I said. Simply using words that are totally opposite of what I said and what I meant does not mean the other person, or people, are right. It only means they will say the opposite of whatever others say in a pathetic attempt to look intelligent.

Bea looks sternly into the camera.

Bea: During the comments that Kat and Carter made it came across, to me anyway, that where I said YES they said NO. Where I said UP they said DOWN. Where I said HIGH they said LOW. The list is endless. Simply standing before a camera and saying the opposite of what I said is not classified as talking sense it is classified as just being anti whatever the other person said. If you cannot back up your counter comments then you need to be silent.

CLOSING COMMENTS

Bea: In closing I wish to tell Kat that I hope that Bill and Carter are able to work out an agreement that when I am beating you down and you run to Carter to tag out of the match to get away from me, that when Bill and Carter enter the ring they will immediately tag me and you back into the match. This match honestly comes down to you and me and Bill and Carter are supporting roles characters. If Carter and Bill make that agreement, and they keep me and you in the ring, then I can continue to beat you down. Even if you were to get a pin or submission on me to end the match you will not leave the match unharmed. I want to beat all the false accusations you made against me out of you forever. So, Kat, have a nice time leading up t the bell to start our match. Once the bell rings, and our match starts, there will no longer be nice times for you.

Bea informs the camera person that she will now step out of camera range and allow Bill to take his place in front of the camera for his comments on their upcoming match. We watch as Bea leaves the view of the camera and then shortly after Bea leaves the camera view Bill steps into the view of the camera to give his comments on their upcoming Mixed Tag Team match.

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