Search found 227 matches for 4

We open on a shot of the Forum Arena in Inglewood, CA.  the words earlier today rest at the bottom of the screen as the camera zooms in for a close up of the venue's digital billboard which reads "Dynasty Wrestling Live this Friday...  Special meet and greet Thursday." 


The shot transitions over to the parking lot where food trucks, merchandise booths, food trucks, and banners for Dynast, Fox Sports, and the New 97.1 FM radio station (along with a few other sponsors) are simi circled around a stage that has been constructed for this event.



Event host (A slightly overweight white male in his mid to late 30's): "how's everybody doing here?"




the crowd cheers a bit to show their having a good time.


Event Host: "Is everybody excited for Dynasty tomorrow?"



The Crowd cheers a bit louder this time.

Event Host: "yeah and there's a lot to be excited for.  Tomorrow we'll get to see Carlo Russo Versus Jacob Senn, TLA and The Savage Ryans against The Iconomy, and we'll also get some news about what's happening with Christopher Corrupt, and the World Heavyweight Championship,  how does that sound guys?"



the crowd pops good for the quick run down.


Event Host: "Alright, that's all great stuff but there's one more thing I'm looking forward to..."


a chant of "Vance, Vance, Vance" starts up among some of audience.
 


Event Host: "Oh yeah he'll be there to and I'm sure whatever he has to say will be amazing, but the thing I was talking about that has me excited, is the Triple Threat number one contenders match for the Intergalactic Championship between not one, not two, but three of Dynasty's fastest raising stars.  In one Corner will be "The Ace From The A" Troy Ace, in another will be "Ireland's Finest" Jaden Zaxaria, and in the other will be our special guest at this time.  He is the Social Media Champion, Give it up folks for "Picture Perfect" Mark Michaels!"




The opening bassline to Iggy Azalea's "Fancy" starts up as Michaels briskly makes his way up the Stage's Steps.  THe crowd's reaction is somewhat mixed as Michaels flashes his Million Dollar Grin while taking the microphone.


Michaels: "First off I want to give a big shout out to all my followers here in Inglewood, and more than that I have a gift for one of you."



Michaels turns quickly, grabs a "Stay Calm and be Perfect" T-shirt, and tosses it out to the crowd, several members of whom try reach out and try to catch it.


Michaels: "Good catch there buddy, don't forget to pay for it over a t the booth."



Event Host: "Ha Ha that's funny Mr. Michaels.  It's good to see that what is easily the biggest match in your tenure on Dynasty so far.  Would you share your thoughts about the opportunity to challenge Maxwell Dachs for the Intergalactic Championship?"


Michaels: "Sure I would.  Like you've said this is the biggest match I've had as a member of the Dynasty Roster so far, and everyone who knows me, knows that I live for the big matches.  I thrive when the spotlight is on me, and find another gear that I go to.  I find a little more when I dig down deeper.  To put it short the bigger the match, the better I preform. 

and that fact scares men like Troy Ace, what with his constant barking about who he's gonna want to spend time with in the ring.  So you don't want to be my Friend?  Well I couldn't care less, because I have millions of them on across Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and every other social media website.  You say That Jaden Zaxaria is the better wrestler, I say that if you're really that into Jaden why don't you two get a room down the street.  OH, and F.Y.I, When you're going to try and sucker punch someone, don't tell them that you're planning to do so, cause it kind of spoils the surprise.  Now I'll give you credit in the fact that you are an impressive athlete, and if I wasn't the undisputed Picture of Perfection, you'd definitely be the one facing off with Dachs.  But just like your Georgia Bulldogs, you're going to have to settle for second place.  So go ahead and come at me like a freight train, I'll derail you, and I'll do it in with style, you know that thing you have none of. 



And Jaden, I've said most everything I have, or will ever have to say about you, but Tomorrow night I right a wrong.  Tomorrow Night Live on Dynasty I set the record straight about that win you stole from me a few weeks ago.  The one that you think makes you better than me, and not some luckly lepruchaun flluke.  After the bell rings you will be exposed for the chump that you really are, and what's more I Shut up that other dumb oaf at the same time.  In twenty four teeny, tiny, little hours I will usher in the Mark Michaels Era of Dynasty Wrestling. A Perfect Era, and It's too bad  for anybody who doesn't like it because I will not only beome the poster boy, and champion f Dynasty, but of the entire sport of Professional Wrestling! 

Oh and Maxie do me a favor and keep my new belt warm for me, cause after I'm done posting those two losers on the wall of shame, I'm setting my sights on you.  So Troy, Jaden, and Max, all three of your asses can Picture THAT!"


With that Michaels drops the mic, and quickly replaces it with his smartphone.  He turns around so that the crowd is in the back ground of his selfie.



FADE TO BLACK

The unmistakable sound of gunfire. The sweet burning scent of gunpowder. One power-hungry drill sergeant stands barking orders and hurling insults at his so-called troops, drunk on the sound of his own voice. As he talks, his thick moustache twitches atop his lip.

“You call that shooting? Are you blind? You couldn't hit the side of a god damned barn.”

Another flurry of gunfire sounds out down the range, the focus turning from the drill sergeant to the troops he is busy berating. A dozen men squat in a dozen positions along the range, each with a pistol in their hands. Only one figure stands to the side, dressed not in the uniform green of a G.I. soldier, but in a brightly coloured t-shirt that distinguishes him from the pack. Seeing him coming, the drill sergeant turns to his men once more.

“Safety and holster…”



His men oblige, the gunfire petering out to silence. He shakes the brightly dressed man’s hand but does not offer a greeting. In contrast, the stranger cracks into a wide grin, wild eyes burning as he lines up the gun range. The brightly dressed man turns to the camera, facing it front-on. It is a face that people should remember; the face of Perfection Personified – Calvin Lewis.

“Greetings Dy-Hards… I have been lucky enough to be granted the opportunity to see first-hand what our men and women in the military go through in their ten weeks of Basic Training, before we can call them a soldier. This is Staff-Sergeant Hutson and he is going to put the Epitome of Excellence through his paces.”


The drill sergeant smiles at the prospect of ‘breaking-in’ another lot of fresh meat. He instructs Lewis to watch the drill for a moment, to see what is expected of him. Turning to his patiently waiting wannabe troops, he barks his orders.

“Okay, you lousy wastes of my time. Let’s give you one that you may be able to handle without shooting your damned nuts off.” Calvin Lewis begins to chuckle at the sergeant’s candour but soon falls silent when nobody else follows suit. Ignoring him, the sergeant continues. “Double tap, re-aim, Double Tap. Four live rounds only. Anybody shoots off five, I will personally shoot you in the head. Safeties off… Hoorah!”   

Again, the flurry of gunfire sounds out from a dozen pistols. After some time, it dies down while the dozen men step back from their stations. Marching up and down the range, the drill sergeant is clearly not happy with the results, stopping to yell at each and every trainee individually without fail. Lewis takes this time to address the camera once more.

“G.I. Styles… These men are a little like you; the G.I. of General Infantry. Taking orders from a handler, pointed in a direction and told to shoot. I hear you shoot rather well, and I'm not about to underestimate you. I can respect a man who is all about business inside the ring and your resume speaks for itself. You are great… or at least you were, based on the benchmarks of what we are used to.


But, Calvin Lewis is the new breed. I am a new standard. What was once greatness just doesn't cut it in my world. I am raising the bar and setting a new benchmark. I maybe stepping into the ring with one of the best that Dynasty has to offer, but you are stepping into the ring with so much more. You are about to go toe-to-toe with…” He pauses to flash a handsome smile at the camera and run a hand through his hair as if to accentuate his own ego. “… Perfection.”

He steps towards a pair of wannabe soldiers, who don’t so much as even acknowledge his presence.

“G.I. soldiers are good for just one thing…” Calvin speaks with the smile still on his face, but the wild danger in his eyes suggests he has less cheery thoughts in mind. The sergeant steps once more to Calvin’s side, having finished berating his lousy troops. Joining in with Lewis, the pair both utter the word at the same time.


“…Cannon fodder.”

Calvin cracks a grin once more at this sentiment; the drill sergeant does not. Looking up at the staunch, burly shot-caller, Calvin continues pondering out loud.

“Do you wonder why Staff-Sergeant Hutson is so hard on his troops? The guy is a complete asshole, but he gets results. It is all down to one reason. Sarge, why do you ride your men so hard?”


The Staff-Sergeant looks Calvin dead in the eye, then glares at the camera.

“I expect more. I expect excellence, perfection. I am not satisfied with mediocrity.”



Falling silent once more, the Staff-Sergeant opens the floor for Lewis to step in once more. He does so with gusto.

“It is that simple. His troops hit the target, as does G.I. Styles. They are not bad shots at all, but when perfection is your expectation, good enough is simply not good enough. G.I. Styles is the kind of guy who shoots so well, but misses the target oh so closely. To anybody satisfied with mediocrity, that is good enough. A win here, a loss there… Easy come, easy go. But when you expect perfection of yourself, you piss all over mediocrity. I am destined not just for the greatness that you have obtained, G.I. - I am destined for Excellence.


I am the undefeated. I am the guy with the perfect record. I am the instigator and implementer of the perfect game plan. I take down giants and pave new paths. I am changing the face of EAW, the face of Dynasty. I will rise to the top, using you as the stepping-stone you are to get there. Because Calvin Lewis is not just good, he is not just great… He is brilliant. He is the Epitome of Excellence.”

The Staff-Sergeant passes Lewis a pistol and directs him towards one of the stations along the gun-range. By now, the wannabe troops have gathered around him. He turns, pistol holstered for now, and faces the camera once more.

“It is time for a shake-up, a wake-up call to the Dynasty roster. The days of mediocrity are at an end. One by one, the stars will fall at the feet of perfection… Starting with G.I.-Joe.”

His face fills with a look of deep thought for a moment, before returning to its passive normality. Calvin smiles as a thought crosses his mind.

“Well, G.I. Styles is more G.I.-Jane than G.I.-Joe. The kind of man who is cocky and confident but lacks that true ability to back it up when it really counts. So, G.I.-Jane… Perfection Personified is going to put you through your paces, he will show you a world of pain like you have never experienced. Embrace it… Embrace it as the mediocrity leaves your body, then one day you may be nearly as Excellent as me. Embrace it because the pain is good, because we all know the best thing about pain… it lets you know you’re not dead yet.”

Calvin draws the pistol from the holster, flicking off the safety.

“Calvin Lewis is not like G.I.-Jane… I have never lost a match and I’m not about to start this week. My perfect record turns from three to four this week and there is not a thing that you can do to stop it.


G.I. Styles… My name is Calvin Lewis. It may not be a name that you are overly familiar with yet, but you will never forget it after this week. I am the guy that is not satisfied with simply hitting the target. All Calvin Lewis is interested in, is…”  Raising the pistol, he turns and fires two rapid shots by tapping at the trigger. He adjusts his stance slightly to re-aim the sidearm then pops off two more in quick succession. He doesn't even wait for the target sheet to draw closer to him; he already knows the results. Hanging up the pistol, he turns and begins to walk away from the range, leaving the stunned Staff-Sergeant and all his so-called troops gawking in amazement at the perfect score. “… Perfection.”

The shot ends by zooming in on his target sheet. Four bullets passing directly through the bullseye, leaving but a single hole in the paper. Perfection.

 
 
A young teenage girl leans against a rickety fence as storm clouds rumble over the town in the distance. A man walks slowly up behind her and wraps an arm around her as they watch the weather event unfold from their farm.
 
Tommy Dillon: That’s a wall cloud there. At any time a tornado could drop out of that hook and just blow everything away. What are you doing out here, hunny?
 
The girl shrugs and keeps watching the storm develop as she’s pulled in closer.
 
Tommy Dillon: I know you want everything with this to go perfect, but it won’t always. Just like life. If things were perfect, there’d be three of us. But we’ve done alright baby girl, just the two of us. I don’t know how thrilled your mom would have ever been about your hobby, but you’re pretty talented. There’s no doubt about that.
 
He turns her with his arm and starts walking them back to the house.
 
Tommy Dillon: I enjoyed watching you tonight. You can’t win ‘em all you know? I don’t know if you do know it. Every time I turn around I see you taking it all way more serious than you need to. A big part of this is making sure you love it. I was hesitant to let you do it with your competitive mean streak, but… I think you might be able to do this for awhile. Who knows, you could be a pro.
 
The man shrugs as they enter the house and he gestures to the table. She sits down and leans down on her elbows.
 
Cailin Dillon: It just sucks, dad. I tried so hard and still I lost. I hate losing so much.
 
Tommy Dillon: There’s nothing wrong with hating to lose. I’m just telling you now that it’s going to happen. There’s never been anyone in the history of wrestling that just went undefeated forever. Well, I’m undefeated, but I’m too chicken shit to actually get in the ring.
 
They share a laugh at his comment and then it goes quiet for a moment. He furrows his brow as he looks at her.
 
Tommy Dillon: Whatcha thinking about baby girl?
 
Cailin Dillon: Tornadoes… they’re just so beautifully dangerous. They come in swift and leave such an impact. They’re the most destructive winds of change. I think I’d like to model my style off of tornadoes…

 
Going back into present time, Cailin Dillon walks through the streets of Charlotte, glancing at the Time Warner Cable Arena. She smiles and sighs, pulling her bag tightly over her shoulder. She was trying not to stand out, dressed in a hoodie in the middle of summer. Her phone beeps a few times and she checks a message to see a link and a message. “Eris’ new video.” She closes her phone and tucks it back in her pocket. After reaching the arena, she walks in and flashes a special badge on her backpack and heads on in. Skipping the direction of the locker room, she walks right into the arena and sits in a chair on the floor. She takes a pair of headphones out and leans back, closing her eyes and listening to music and almost meditating in the arena.
 

An instrumental country music song sounds as an 17-year old Cailin Dillon enters a high school gymnasium to a mixed reaction from a small crowd. She scowls and waves them off as she slides under the bottom rope on her stomach and heads to a turnbuckle, asking the crowd for more noise and egging on the ones that booed. She grins as she looks at her opponent, bigger and much more out of shape than her.
 
Cailin Dillon: This all we could get out here this week? Let’s do this then.
 
The bell sounds and Cailin stands in place, watching her opponent approach slowly with amusement. When she nears, Cailin grabs her and whips her into the ropes and hits a lightning fast tornado DDT. When the girl stands, Cailin hits her with the Texas Two Step, followed by the Eyes of Texas and then leaned back over her and counts out the pin with the ref and the crowd and then grins as she raises her own arms and leaves the ring and starts heading to the back. Before she can reach the curtain, a group of fans near the railing starts chanting at her. “You tapped out.” Over and over then went, she panics and shows her emotion, covering her ears as she runs through the curtain. They fans laugh and high five as she gathers her things. A hand grabs her shoulder.
 
Tommy Dillon: Come on baby girl, you can’t keep doing this.
 
Cailin Dillon: Are they ever gonna let this go? I can’t stand it. Yes, I lost three weeks ago, why do they have to rub it in?
 
Tommy Dillon: Don’t give them a reason to. If you’re gonna be all cocky and confident like this, then you have to own it. Next time they come at you, just smile and stare them down as you leave. These tears wont do a thing but give them reason to keep going. Someday you’ll understand it. You’ve got this edge about you that’s so easy for some people to hate. So make them hate you and take care of it in the ring.
 
 
Back in the arena, Cailin opens her eyes and leans forward as workers move past her to set up the show. She pulls her hood up over the top of the headphones and feels her phone buzz. She pulls it out and reads it, “Have you watched it yet? She’s talking more trash!” Cailin rolls her eyes at the message and tucks the phone back into her pocket, standing up and walking to the back. She passes by all the crew as she heads to the Vixens locker room and walks in, turning on the lights in the dark room. She approaches the mirror and drops her back on the floor, leaning against the sink and staring at her reflection from under the hood. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
 
 
A bell sounds as an 18-year-old Cailin rolls off her opponent and pumps her fist into the air to a chorus of boos. The ref walks over and she pulls a championship belt from him, holding the modest sized belt up in the air and nodding. She hops out of the ring and sees a familiar group of fans. As they gather and begin to chant, she stares them down and starts to walk their way. They chant “You suck,” as she stands a foot away. She starts to smile and they chant louder. She eggs them on, lifting her hands and asking for more. Eventually she waves a hand at them and shakes her head, flashing her belt at them as she starts to head out of the arena.
 
 
Cailin opens her eyes and stares into the mirror again. Reaching up she pulls down her headphones and tosses them down to her bag, the loud music still heard pumping through the speakers. She smiles at her reflection and then laughs.
 
Cailin Dillon: My dad always told me to own up to what I am.  You think I’m cocky and way too confident? Well maybe I am. But at the end of the day, nothing’s going to change. I’m gonna own up to it. I’m gonna take that ring and fight like I know I can win. I’ll never accept losing and I’ll always leave everything out there in the ring. No matter what it takes, no matter how many bruises form, cuts open or bones break, I’m going to show everyone here just how determined I am to be the best. I always told myself I’d do everything I can to make my dad proud. To make my… mom… proud. (She stops and takes a moment to collect herself) And to make myself proud of my own accomplishments. They say anything can happen once you take that ring, and it’s true. Last week, I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I took a match for granted. I made a damned fool of myself for half of that match. In the end, I waited too damn long to fight like I needed to. That won’t happen ever again. I can’t promise that I’ll win every single match, but I can promise that I’ll always be myself. I will always be the Cailin Dillon that fights like hell to get everything she wants, and never holds back. I will never stop being the Cailin Dillon who smiles at adversity and keeps my head up. I screwed that all up last week and tried to be someone I wasn’t for half a match. Starting tomorrow, I’ll never let that happen again. My father always taught me to be myself, and it’s time I get back to doing it. The EAW is still getting to know Cailin Dillon. It’s time to show them all what she’s really capable of.

Cailin nods and pushes herself off the mirror, grabbing her stuff and heading for the door. She looks around the room and gives one more grin and a nod before turning off the light and letting the door close behind her.

PAIN FOR PRIDE PROMO #4

Why do I talk, Vic? Just why? Why does anyone talk at all? To hold a conversation. What? Did you expect me to sit there quietly and accept everything that you've said? Of course I'm not going to do that. You should know me better by now. When someone's wrong, I'll point it out. I don't care if it's you, Mr. DEDEDE, El Landerson or any of the other members of House Vendetta. If someone decides to come out and say what they like about me, I'll say what I like back. That's how I am, that's how I've been and that's how I'll always be. So no, I'm not getting tired of my own voice. What I am getting tired of is everybody calling me a coward. Thankfully for me, you know me better. I'm anything but a coward. If anything, I'm logical. I go for my best options. My best option right now is responding to you and everyone else that's asked for my attention. I'll start off by saying that you're right, Vic. Only a month in to my reign and I lost the Interwire Championship. Does it eat me up? Short answer: No. The long answer is that your actions did take a toll on my body. You're right about that but it doesn't eat me up inside at all because I know and can accept why I lost. You, yourself have admitted that you had a hand in the result but I was never worried about that. I knew I was at a disadvantage going in to that match right from the get-go and Scott Oasis was indeed ready to capitalize; I knew he would be ready but the reason that loss doesn't eat me up inside is because I also know it took him damn well near breaking my neck in order to beat me in our rematch. In our first match? Not only did it takes the attacks that you had made but he even had to attack me himself multiple times, attempting to injur me on several occasions before he knew I was beatable. It took him injuring me to beat me but it didn't stop there. I pushed through all that pain harder than I ever had before and came back only a few weeks later to try and even the odds. We had our second match. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't physically be able to compete in that match anymore. Then he pinned me. One. Two. Three. As easy as that. Do I complain? Not at all. As a matter of fact, I do the exact opposite. It took one of my greatest rivalries in not just EAW but wrestling as a whole, almost breaking my neck to beat me. At that moment, I knew it wasn't even worth attempting to kick out. Right as that final bell rang, I accepted the outcome. I couldn't change it... but even in failure, I had something to be proud of because sometimes the favourite does have to win. That night, the favourite won. What can I say? If I could go back and change the outcome, I wouldn't dream of doing so. It's because of that match that I'm here at Pain for Pride 8 at the strongest I'll ever be, both mentally and physically but even months back, right after I had lost that championship, I went and redeemed myself almost immediately. A longer Interwire Championship reign would have been great but this could quite possibly be my second chance for that. If that's not the case, there's about half a dozen more titles out their waiting to be held by a new champion. That's something I can't turn down....

Oh, and uh, not to burst your bubble but I'm an atheist.

There's something else I need to get off my chest though. This is directed towards Mexican Samurai.

I made it clear from the moment I spoke out about what I think of this match that if someone has something to say to me, I'll have something to say back. As I said to Vic, do you think I'm just going to sit back and accept everything you have to say? Of course not... and, after all, it was YOU who poked the bear. I never once felt the need to mention your name until you called me out. You ARE chasing me. You saw me as the favourite, saw me as a threat, so you tried to get my attention so I gave it to you. I told you why you were wrong and why I was going to win this battle royal. So you tried again and, once again, I gave you some attention. It seems to me like you're the one here feeding off of attention. You know that I'm the most talked about guy in this match so you figured you'd try to be smart and get me to notice you, that way maybe everyone else will notice you. As I said, you're just like a little mosquito, Samurai. You keep flying over, trying to get to what it is that you desire but you haven't thought things through. You've got my attention... now where do you go from here? It doesn't give you an advantage. All you've done is allow me to set my sights on you and once I've done that... SMACK! That's it. You're squashed. You're done for. Goodbye, mosquito. You won't be able to pester me anymore. Once it's gone, there's no reason for me to pay anymore attention to it just like once you've stopped trying to get under my skin, I'll have no reason to swat away what you're saying. You may need to feed off of the attention that I'm getting but I don't need it. So go ahead, Samurai, and don't say anything to me next time you come out to open your mouth. I can stop any time that I like and I will once you've ran out of things to say. I'm like a ball being thrown against a brick wall. You throw me against the wall and I'll bounce back. You throw me against the wall harder and harder, I come back harder and harder. You throw harder still, bouncing me back harder again until eventually you get so desperate, so worn out from not being able to outsmart me that you throw as hard and as recklessly as you can and then I bounce so far away you find yourself unable to catch up with me. You stop throwing; I stop bouncing. I've faced some of the very best in this business and I've taken them to their limits, some of them even beyond that. I held my own against former World Champions the like of Mr. DEDEDE and Norman Hellion, beaten former Interwire Champions the like of Scott Oasis and Vic Vendetta, even the Interwire Champion himself. Are you to say that they are not worthy proof that I have tested myself against the very best? This is what I mean when you talk about things you know nothing about. You see, you and I are very different. You come from the unknown. None of what you've done there matters in the EAW landscape. This is a clean slate for everyone that comes here and I mean EVERYONE. You are no exception. Everything before this has been minor league. Only now have you reached the big time. So you know what? You should learn everything you can about your opponents who have been around here for long enough time to have made a name for themselves because what they've done actually matters. If our roles had been reversed, Samurai, I wouldn't have expected a single person here to know who I was. I wouldn't expect them to act like I'm some accomplished competitor. Why? Everything I had done leading up to EAW was now irrelevant. It didn't matter. All that matters is EAW. I would have done my research, learnt about what everyone I'm facing has done and gone through leading up to this match in order to at least try to gain an edge against any of them. Maybe you're too stubborn to even look at that as an option but it's the only option you have. Right now, even as the veteran you make yourself out to be, you're just chicken fodder. You have to prove yourself HERE before you and anything you've done matter. By EAW standards you're nothing more than another rookie. If you don't like that then that's too bad but you have to work your way up the ladder. Don't think I'm going to let you jump ahead of me just because you think you're better than me, all because you're here in your second match. I guess you've not been paying attention, Almost any Elitist can get in to this match. There are guys that didn't even officially qualify that are in this match. Don't think you're something special. I chose to be in this match, remember? I mean you must, considering you felt the need to call me a coward for choosing this match. Am I a coward for being logical? Is the man that bets on the horse with the highest odds a coward? I don't think so. If you do decide to respond, Samurai, what would you honestly choose? The virtually guaranteed title shot or the one that isn't so guaranteed? Think with a clear mind instead of letting your ego get in the way. It's a rather easy choice to make.

If you're serious about getting out the weapons, Samurai, I'd think again. Need I remind you what I told you last time you brought this up? I'M A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER. I don't choose to be hit with weapons. I don't show up thinking "Oh, I know! I feel like having light tubes smashed over my head repeatedly today!". If you so much as turn your back on me to leave that ring for any kind of weapon, I'll be right there behind you making sure that the way you leave is over that top rope.

Before I do any of that, though... I think I might have just gone in to depression. I've been hearing this one guy and he's telling me that I'm not good enough to compete in this ring! Me, a former Interwire Champion, Spartan Cup winner someone who's earned the respect of Mr. DEDEDE and Y2Impact isn't good enough! You hear that, Greek gods? I'm a big, fat phony! I'm just no good, am I? All these talented competitors I've beat must have been out of pity! Whatever will I do?!

Come on now, Brett. There's being an asshole and then there's just being a moron. Just then, you were the latter of the two. The guy that labels himself as an asshole can't do it right! What a surprise, just like everyone else who can't live up to what they claim. Come on, Brett, I know you can do better than that. That little story of yours was truly fascinating and all but that's all it is: A story. There's a reason it's a part of Greek MYTHOLOGY. It didn't happen and it won't ever happen. The man with the Midas Touch? It's just a name. SHOCKER! I'm just a regular guy looking to make a name for himself. Now you? Maybe you're genuinely an asshole but I'm just a professional wrestler, looking to make a living and trying to make a name for himself in EAW. I KNOW I'm the favourite in this match, that's why I've made a point to everyone else calling me out that I'm here to prove why. I'm here to prove that I've got more willpower to pull through this and win that 24/7 contract. If you decide you want to try and question that, you'll find that it'll be you with the ears of an ass. I guess that'd be rather fitting, consider you do call yourself an asshole. Would bring a whole new meaning to your nickname, wouldn't it?... but for you to say that these fans wouldn't care couldn't be less true. It's because of these fans and how I was able to change their minds about me that I managed to do everything I did. It's because of their roaring reaction everytime I stepped out to make my entrance or every time that I won a match that I love doing what I do. If it wasn't for them, I probably wouldn't even be with EAW today. That's how much these fans mean to me. That's how much they've affected my career. So for you to say that they wouldn't care? I laugh... because that's all I can really do. I laugh because don't need to defend myself against what you've just said since, well, you're going to hear that you're wrong come Pain for Pride weekend when I make my entrance and guess what? You'll be getting one of the best seats in the house just to see it. Until then, I'll just keep throwing you a bone and after all this is said and done, I'll be walking out with that contract in my hand, ready to cash in on whichever champion I want. If you want to be the one to get rid of me then so be it. I already have everyone else waiting to get their hands on me. What makes you so different from all of them? What makes you better than the Mexican Samurai? JJ Silva? Chris Elite? Hell, even Kerry Keller? You've all proven just as much as each other: nothing. If you're looking to prove yourself to these people, all you have to do is eliminate me. Go for it. I'm just letting you know that I'll be waiting for you and everyone else in this match, waiting for each of you to slip up.

That's right everyone, there's going to be plenty of banana peels on that ring floor and if you're not careful you WILL slip up and when you do, you'll be flying right over that top rope and down to the mat. Every. Single. One of you. Again, if you want to eliminate me you better come and try your damn hardest because I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that you're the ones getting eliminated and not me. 

THIS. IS. MY. TIME.

I don't say this to make myself believe this; I say it because at Pain for Pride 8, it's going to be the truest thing you'll hear when I shout that to all of you, arm raised in victory and 24/7 contract in the other, ready to take any Championship that I wish.

#1 - Tattoos the names of every person he seeks vengeance upon onto his torso as a permanent reminder and display of devotion for his redemption and to Onryo.

 #2 - Though born out of wedlock, Ares considers himself heir to the Vendetta Dynasty as the eldest of Robbie V's three known children: himself, Athena Vendetta, and Apollo Vendetta. Athena being the only three born in wedlock.

 #3 - After his birth, Ares' mother, Kendra Shamez, traveled and lived with Robbie V during his time training in Japan. After their eventual falling out, Kendra remained in Japan for the sake of Ares as he had already become accustomed to living there while Robbie traveled as a professional wrestler and visited Ares when he could. Ares would eventually take to training in the toughest dojos he could find in Japan. The training was excruciating and Ares suffered various broken bones, torn tendons, and more, but was continued to be given training so long as he kept coming back.

 #4 - As with many wrestlers in Japan, Ares took an excursion to the United States in the Extreme Answers Wrestling Federation, specifically to enact revenge on those who have wronged the Vendetta Family. However, since then, it has been revealed this was no excursion, but more of a banishment after Ares took it upon himself to mercilessly torture an opponent before striking them with a punt kick using a steel-toed boot. The victim of the attack was put in a coma for several weeks and has never wrestled again. Ares considered it "experimenting".

 #5 - Typically a cold and callous individual, Ares seems to only show mercy upon his own family. as he recruited his cousin, Victor Vendetta, after a malicious war that featured Victor attacking Kendra and Ares alike. Ares defeated Victor cleanly at Road To Redemption, humiliated Victor by having him cut off his own hair as a showing of humility, and would bring him in to join House Vendetta not long after.

 #6 - Ares recruited Norman Hellion into House Vendetta not only by promises of grandeur and revenge, but by revealing to him a distant relation between the Vendettas and the Hellions. Therefore, excluding Scott Diamond as House Vendetta's "insurance policy" and the Agents of Extreme as anonymous followers of Ares/Onryo, House Vendetta is made up of the family of Ares Vendetta.

 #7 - Supposedly, Ares became the way he is not long after discovering a somewhat forgotten God in Japan named "Onryo". Ares desired vengeance after discovering all that had been done to his family, and soon discovered Onryo and his ways of achieving precisely that. Ares became more cold, more calculating, and more violent than ever before. He took his years of training and used them to maim others for pleasure.

 #8 - Ares has been known to be a "womanizer" of sorts.

 #9 - Donned the persona "Crimson Mask" prior to revealing his true identity. The "Crimson" of the character spawning from his worshiping of Onryo as followers of the religion commonly use a red right hand; as well as the religion's use of blood.

 #10 - Despite living in the same country as his half-brother, Apollo, Ares never contacted him or even knew of him until he was informed of his father's other children as an adult. Ares grew nothing but resentment for the other two children of Robbie V and considers them born of adultery.

 #11 - Has unusual, yet natural blonde and black-colored hair.

#12 - Defeated then-World Heavyweight Champion, Mr. DEDEDE, in his EAW Debut as Ares Vendetta; also killed Methuselah.

 #13 - Enjoys whistling. Ares specifically whistles to the tune of "A-Hunting We Will Go" when feeling especially violent.

 #14 - Ended the career of Cleopatra.

 #15 - Despite specifically targeting the EAW Pure Championship and his father's now-inactive World Heavyweight Championship Crown, Ares believes every piece of gold belongs to him as the self-proclaimed heir to this father's Throne. Believes that by right, EAW is his Kingdom, and everything within it is his possession, and intends to come to claim each treasure if need-be.

  #16 - Enjoys calling those he considers lower than him (everyone) "mongrels". 

 #17 - Prefers Hotpockets over Pizza Rolls.

 #18 - Became known as "The Black Vulture" after his brutal assault on an opponent that led to his "excursion". Became known as "The New Don" as the son to Robbie V and self-proclaimed leader of the Vendetta Family; a family that has been infamous for its dirty dealings, such as the eradication of competing families to the point of being known as "The mafia of professional wrestling (the nickname "The New Don" also being a play on the term "New Dawn"). Was given the nickname "The Kamikaze Prince" due to his dangerous method of wrestling in which he punishes his own body to harm his opponent.

TRIPLE THREAT PR0M0 {#}1{/#}
 
[Our scene opens up inside of an old-fashioned carnival style Hall Of Mirrors.  However, it is readily apparent that this once beloved carnival attraction has been long without a diligent caretaker.  Trash litters the floor, dust clings to every surface, and several of the mirrors and broken and cracked, further distorting the images they reflect.  Standing in the center of once such grouping of mirrors, surrounded on all sides, stands Psycho Brody.  He looks around nervously at the warped reflections of himself, they somehow making him seem more disturbed than his normal demeanor.  But this is not what Psycho Brody sees!  Instead he sees the twisted faces of Team Daniels.  Alex Anderson, Lucian Black, Liam Catterson, Brian Daniels; they all gaze mockingly at Brody through smiles and leers morphed into grotesque shapes by the mirrors.]
 
Psycho Brody:  Too many faces!  Why are they all looking at me?!  Stop it!  Tell them to stop it!  I don’t like it when they look at me!  I said stop it!  Stop it!  Stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it…STOP IT!!!
 
[Brody lashes out against one of the few mirrors intact, shattering it with a strike with his bare knuckles.  The glass shatters and falls to the floor, but not without cutting Brody’s knuckles, which now bleed as reward for his outburst.  Brody examines the blood carefully, as if he’s finding the answer to some unspoken question within the contents of his own split blood.]
 
So many faces!  Even when my eyes are closed at night, I see so many faces.  They torment me, laugh at me, cause me pain and suffering.  The doctors always used to tell me they were figments of my imagination…but they were liars!  The faces told them to say that to me!  But Dr. Vance believes me!  He was stronger than the faces and knew they were real.  And he told me how to make them go away.  He said I needed to…find the source!  He said that all negative energy generates from someone and resonates with the Earth and travels from person to person.  But people who are stronger mentally hold onto those feelings.  They dig into their brains like insects, burrowing away at their gray matter.  And because I’m stronger mentally than most, that’s why they stay with me.  But I want them to go away!  They hurt so much!  I feel them inside my head, like knives cutting away from the inside of me!  The Doc also told me that the only answer for pain is greater pain!  Only when you’ve drowned your pain in another’s, even greater than yours, does it slowly begin to numb.  That’s why I hurt people!  So that I may turn off the faces that watch me when I sleep.  Because I don’t like people looking at me when I don’t want them to!  You’re doing it now aren’t you?  You’re looking at me?!  I SAID STOP IT!!!   
 
[Brody calms himself quickly, then travels from the mirror he shattered to another, this one with a rather large crack in the center.  Brody gazes into it, several reflections of himself staring back at him, one in each crack.  He takes a hand and rubs it along the glass, a river of blooding following its path.]
 
I looked at my opponents, and all I see are the voices and faces that torment me!  All I see is bitterness, anger, hatred, and so many negative emotions.  I even see those in my supposed “allies”.  I look at you all, and whenever any of you talk, I don’t hear words.  All I hear is…
 
[Brody turns as a reflection in the mirror speaks to him.]
 
Mirror {#}1{/#}:  Broooooody!!!
 
Mirror {#}2{/#}:  Help us!!!
 
Mirror {#}3{/#}:  We’ll kill you!!!
 
Mirror {#}4{/#}:  Hahahahaha!!!
 
[Brody turns away, trying to ignore the ambient noises clashing with his thoughts.]
 
They won’t stop.  Not until I make them stop!  Because these voices just aren’t in my head.  I hear them echoing in the locker room.  I hear them in your eyes!  I know how this company views, and although I may be crazy, that doesn’t mean I’m deaf and stupid.  I know that a good majority of people think I’m a joke and that I’m not really a threat to anyone.  But let me assure…YOU’RE ALL WRONG!!!  Apparently nobody seems to remember how I dominated AWF!  Nobody remembers how I won the EAW Tag Team Championships in my debut match in EAW!  I AM “THE MAD BEAST” PSYCHO BRODY!!! 
 
[Brody smashes his head against the bloodstained mirror, penance for having used the “P” word to describe himself, which is a rule Dr. Vance has diligently drilled into the mind of his patient.]
 
Why don’t any of you remember that?  WHY?!?!  You all have forgotten that there are indeed monsters hiding under your bed and in your closet!  You think you’re big boys and girls, standing up bravely against the big, bad Brody.  But Doc has always told me there is a thin line between being brave and being ignorant.  This is a line ALL of you have crossed!  You’re not brave!  YOU’RE STUPID!!!  You’re all stupid because you’ve forgotten who and what I am!  I don’t whether you all did it on purpose, or whether you’re all just blind, but you have forgotten.  Now you need reminding.  And when it comes to the unwilling, the ignorant, or the stubborn, only vicious, harsh…VIOLENT examples will accomplish anything!  For months I’ve tried to hold back the urges eating away inside of me.  I did it because I thought I could be accepted.  But I was wrong, and now the urges are so strong I don’t think I can control them…and I don’t think I want to anymore.  I let them out last week, when I DOMINATED the so-called “Hall Of Famer” Hurricane Hawk.  And it felt sooooo good!  I could feel inside me the pain he was feeling…and I loved it!  I want that feeling again, and there are soooo many people to do it to!  I have no current beef with any of you, but I don’t care!  Whether you hurt me or not, I just wanna bring you all down into my world.  Because none of you would last one day in the world of crazy!  It would break your mind like these mirrors surrounding me.  And it’s that same “crazy” that you look down on me for that grants me abilities and strengths you couldn’t hope to surpass or even obtain!  Me and Dr. Vance have tapped into a power-source nobody ever dared to willing explore because you all feared the insanity.  But I looked into the heart of darkness, and I did NOT walk away from it.  Instead…I BECAME ONE WITH IT!!!  Now I will take this power and use it until you all realize that I am the monster of your nightmares!  I will take everything you value most in this world and destroy it, simply for the joy of your tears!  I will crush your dreams, only so that I may watch your spirit crumble!  I will drag you all down into insanity’s pit, so that I can leave you there to rot!  Laugh at me, underestimate me, do whatever you want, it’s all been done to me before.  Just realize that you cannot break what has already been broken.  You are whole, but also weak and fragile.  And one intact mirror is not nearly as dangerous as a million broken shards digging into your skin!  I may be broken but you…ALL OF YOU…still have something to lose.  You still need someone…TO BREAK YOU!!! 
 
[To illustrate his point, Brody lifts up his boot and smashes the only remaining, intact mirror inside the “funhouse”.  Standing amidst the mess for a moment, Brody finally starts to walk out, the shards crunching beneath his feet, much as he hopes to crunch the body’s of his opponents…and even possibly his allies at Triple Threat.
 

Fade to black.]

The Life and Times of Vance Tybull
Grand Rampage 2015 Special Edition
Part Four


Sun City, AZ
4/20/15

[It’s 4/20 in Sun City, and all the city’s stoners are toking like you wouldn’t believe. We’re talking doctors, lawyers, tramps and thieves all puff-puffing away on the ganja like it was going out of style. This is no exception for the Black Label Society biker club – named after their favorite band – in Sun City. About 30 rough looking men all sit about the club house, passing bongs, blunts and brownies, all in a jovial, celebratory mood. There is a loud knocking at the door, and a sudden hush among the bikers as the reggae music stops playing. (Yes bikers listen to reggae music on 4/20) The club’s leader, is one of Vance’s best friends, Red Harrison. He gets up and answers the door, seeing his long lost friend on the other side.]

Red Harrison: Vance Tybull, where have you been all this time!?

Vance Tybull: On television.

[Vance begins walking in the club house, and Red follows him. Various members greet Vance in between his conversation with Red.]

Red: You didn’t stop to think maybe to come by and see us before now!? How long have you been out of prison!?

Vance: A few months now. I got together with some of my father’s old friends and they trained me to wrestle, and then pulled some strings with some old connections and landed me a contract with EAW.

Red: EAW!? No effing way!

Vance: You don’t watch it anymore?

Red: Nah dude, club business got really hectic, I haven’t watched TV in… I don’t know how long.

Vance: Damn son. So you haven’t seen me go undefeated?

Red: No way dude! You’re undefeated?

Vance: Yeah man, I beat Montell Smooth.

Red: NO WAY BRAH! YOU BEAT MONTELL!? Damn son, I remember when he was the champ back when we were in high school. 

Vance: I know. I mean, dude came out and distracted him, but as far as I’m concerned, he shouldn’t have taken his eye off the ball. It wasn’t like TLA went out there and attacked him, I just took advantage of him getting distracted.

Red: I feel you, man. Wow… I can’t believe you were able to pin him, still! That’s huge. I’m so proud of you man. I can’t believe that what you’ve been doing all this time. You really haven’t let prison get you down at all!

Vance: I guess you could say that, man. 

[They suddenly stop as they are greeted by their friend, Big Krizz.]

Krizz: Yo, Vance!

Vance: What’s up, Krizz! Man, I haven’t seen you in forever!

[Krizz and Vance shake hands and do a fist bump.]

Krizz: What was it like in the joint, man?

Vance: Boring. I kept to myself and nothing happened really. What’s been happening since I’ve been gone, man? Why does it say you’re the Vice President, now? Did Bryce quit the club?

[Vance points to Krizz’s cut, which reads “Vice President.”]

Red: No, Vance. We promoted Krizz because, well… Bryce overdosed on heroin while you were in prison. He died man.

[Vance seems very taken aback by this. He doesn’t know what to think.]

Vance: I thought he gave up that shit?

Red: Well, that’s what we thought, but somebody gave him a large amount, and he didn’t tell anybody. He stuck the needle in his neck, man. We think it may have been foul play from a rival gang. Nobody here would have given Bryce something like that, we all knew about his relationship with Mr. Brownstone man. 

[The entire clubhouse speaks up and agrees with Red.]

Vance: I have no doubt that you guys had nothing to do with it. But I trust you guys to find those bastards who did that to him and give them concrete shoes. But let’s celebrate, because I know Bryce wouldn’t have wanted us to miss 4/20. I won’t smoke, but I’m sure I’ll get plenty high just being here…

[Vance slaps Red on the back and they all go back to having a good time. Red leads Vance to a frame on the wall that holds his old cut, that reads “Tybull, Original 5, Vice President.” Later on in the evening, Vance slips out of the clubhouse, weary, and head back to his hotel room, alone in his thoughts.]

“It’s nice to see the Black Label Society continue on without me. But I know that I have to carry on with this. I need to make Bryce proud. I hope one day I get to see the prick who did that to him face to face, so I can give him the beating of his life.”

[Vance slips back to his hotel room, opening the door. As he does, he notices a brown manila envelope that has been slipped under his door. Vance picks the envelope up and shuts the door behind him, he sits on his bed and opens the envelope, pulling out a large, blown up picture. Vance examines the picture with a horrified look on his face. The picture is of Bryce Lund, his now late friend, being handed a brown package in a back alley. The photo was taken at night, and while Bryce is being illuminated by a light hanging above him, the man handing him the package is obscured by darkness. All Vance can make out is a red bandana.]

“This can’t be.”

[Vance flips the photo around, and there is a note written on the back.]

“This is how your friend acquired all the heroin that killed him. If you want more clues, come find me.”

[Vance places the picture on his lap and looks up, puzzled. He didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that whatever it was had to wait, because the Grand Rampage is coming too quickly, and he didn’t have time to solve mysteries just yet.]

--

Grand Rampage 2015 – Promo {#}4{/#}


Vance: The time is almost at hand. The anticipation has reached its climax and will soon be satiated, as soon I will be entering the Grand Rampage for the very first time in my life. It’s at times like these that I like to pause and reflect on what has led me to this point. I mean, it was only a few short months ago that I wasn’t even in Elite Answers Wrestling, and now, with only nine matches under my belt, I stand to possibly gain entry into the Main Event of the grandest showcase this business has to offer.

This has all happened really, really fast.

I mean, I knew I was a natural in high school, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think this would translate into the professional circuit. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined tearing through EAW like this in such a short time. Sure, I’ve mainly defeated other rookies, but these rookies have far more experience than I, having had the luxury of competing on the independent circuit. Me? I was thrown to the wolves.

But despite being thrown to the wolves, I’ve found myself thriving. Thriving in perhaps the most chaotic jungle of them all. Over sixty of the most talented men and women adorn this roster here, and 29 of them stand to be my opposition in a very short time from now.

And it’s in a time like this, that other, weaker-minded rookies would re-think their choices. They would feel the pressure mounting on their shoulders as the expectations for a good showing grow even more, week-by-week. And for all of this momentum to culminate in my entry into the largest battle EAW has to offer? Others would be quaking in their boots with fear.

But yet I look on, fearless. Because I know that the pressure mounted on my shoulders doesn’t lie on me winning this match. Nobody expects me to win this match, undefeated or otherwise. That’s reality. The pressure is the expectation of a good showing. And that’s where my confidence is.

Throughout my entire life, I’ve been surrounded by competition. Good, bad, they’ve all come to me in order to prove themselves. Sometimes I won. Sometimes I didn’t. But one thing I always did, was I proved to the man who would oppose me, that they should respect me. That I’m not some ancillary player, but rather a force to be reckoned with. A force that cannot be stopped. Montell Smooth sure respects me, now. He surely knows I’m a force to be reckoned with as well. That I can’t be stopped.

But that’s the catch about the Grand Rampage. While it is most certainly impossible to stop me from achieving my goals one day, it really isn’t that difficult to throw me over the top rope of a ring. No man can claim to be impervious to being lifted and dropped, not even the largest of giants. That’s that chaos thing I’ve talked about so affectionately before. It’s that air of unpredictability. That air of excitement, the feeling that anything could happen.

I live for that feeling. I live for the feeling of not knowing whether or not my opponent is better than I. Because it is in those moments that you find the measure of your heart. It is in those moments that you can really pinpoint your shortcomings, and find your limits. And once you find your limits? You can push past them.

So come the Grand Rampage, I will be ready to go to all-out war. I will march on with an unwavering step, never looking back. Because the chaos in this match is something I’m used to. Survival in chaos has been paramount to my continued existence. But in EAW, the chaos comes with great reward. In my past life, chaos has only led to death. So at the Grand Rampage, I will march directly in to the mouth of hell, stare it down, and give hell every last ounce of fight I have in me. I will take this opportunity by its throat and I am going to squeeze every last little bit of life out of it, until there is absolutely no doubt in the minds of every man and woman in the EAW Universe that Vance Tybull is the future of EAW. Vance Tybull will prove that he is exactly what he says he is – unstoppable! Just take a look at history, and you will see…

The past has never been able to stop the future from happening.

Voltage Promo #4 "How it goes"

*Keller sits in a hotel room, he looks tired, he's wearing a Trenchcoat, Jeans and black boots*

Keller: *gets up* it is time now... To lend me your hate in a project... Just Kidding!! I'm not Draven, but of course I have something to say, I'm Kerry Keller after all... I'm famous for having a lot to say. So... Tomorrow is my fated match against, The Frequent Flyer, The Freak, and The Jobber. I went to the gym today and gave myself a good workout to be ready, and you guys better be ready for Draven, Tyberns and I, we've already shown that we don't play around, and we aren't beaten easily. We have nothing to prove... Besides our superiority over every single other person in EAW. We're completely ready and capable of doing that... Now

*Taylor walks out of the bathroom, she's fully clothed and her hair is wet*

Keller: Oh, hey sweets, didn't know you were out of the shower!!

Taylor: Yep... Are you talking to yourself again?

Keller: no, don't you see the camera? *points to the camera*

Taylor: are you trying to make a sex ta-

Keller: NO, I'm trying to cut a promo!!

Taylor: ooooh well.. I mean.... We could

Keller: as I was saying, The New Ministry... Are juggernauts of the Wrestling business, and we'll be ready to show it tomorrow... Be sure of that

Voltage Mini-Promo #4 "Deadly Games"

*Keller is sitting in a room on a chair backed up against the wall, he smiles and begins talking*

Yes... Yes... Bowing at our feet indeed... The blood of our enemies will fill our mouths, and we will make them cower, and crawl, and grieve, and beg for their lives... They will except us as their superiors, they WILL UNDERSTAND THE NEW MINISTRY MEANS GODDAMN BUSINESS... We're going to make them grovel at our feet... And then... Draven will finish them... He will finish... All of them... The deadly game draws near... Are you ready to play?

Voltage Promo #4 "Thou art I, I art Thou, Thou hast opened thine eyes... AND THE TIME... IS NOW!" *Keller sits in a room, only illuminated by a dim light that seems unidentified* Yes... ???: Yes? Keller: Yes... I have opened my eyes... The time... Is now... You're more right than I thought you would be... I never realized so much darkness would make me feel so powerful... ???: exactly what I was trying to tell you Keller: Indeed, that is what you were trying to tell me... But I am a young idiot and I didn't realize you were trying to right me instead of wronging me... I would not- ???: would not be the victim? Not again? Keller: Have you read my thoughts? ???: no... I just know exactly how you feel Kerry, so underutilized... So underappreciated... Keller: *he nods and you hear the door open and the light turn on, you see Mr.Davis walk into the room and Tyberns standing behind Keller as they talk.



Tyberns: now you see... What is ahead of you? Keller: *He nods again and turns to Tyberns* yes... I see what is in front if me... I see what is ahead of me *Keller flips the black hoodie he has on up and goes to greet Mr.Davis* Davis: I heard you're joining us... Keller: you heard correctly my new comrade *he shakes Davis' hand* Davis: *shakes back* well... Welcome aboard! The more the merrier is what I always say. Keller: it's a philosophy to live by my comrade... Do we have more to go over? Davis: *nods* let's go to my locker room... *they all exit and the lights shut out* the viewer can hear in the darkness "I am thou, thou art I, thou hast open thine eyes... AND THE TIME... IS NOW!!

Fighting Spirit Promo #4 "The Sufferer and the Witness" I'm glad... I'm glad I'm facing you Calliban... I'm glad I'm facing someone who has a lot to say, yes, my partner did split from me... Yes, I am in a way, angry, and no, I don't know what will become of this match due to his refusal to be in it... BUT, don't get that confused with what the point is. You, (in your more dilusional mind than mine, apparently) think your better than me... You have no proof, no proof that your better than Kerry Keller, you beat Maxwell, and while I couldn't help him, maybe it's because I didn't want to help him... Did you ever think about THAT? I don't help traitors, and that's all that Maxwell is to me right now... A Traitor. And you and your stupid ass "hacker" thing are getting me angrier by the second. You seriously think that yelling your head off, and then trying to be half profound will deturr me? The death threats from Tyberns didn't even deturr me. I sit here on the mean streets of Lansing... Where I was a poor child, where wrestling was my only escape from my problems... But that's all fine, you seem to be good, now let me admit something before going any further, your more agile than me... But I have every single other advantage over you. EVERY SINGLE ONE, and if you don't think you would fall victim in that environment... You've got another thing coming, your entertaining, you can do a couple of flip-de-do's, but truthfully, that isn't gonna help you against me. I'm out for blood tomorrow night, and whether Maxwell comes out or not, I'll be damned if I can't at least get a chance to win. It's time... Time for Fighting Spirit. I'll be showing my best fighting spirit, you show yours... Or be SILENCED

Dynasty promo #4
☤Tiberius Jones is seen standing inside a small foreign hairstyling store in Canada annoyed talking to a man at the counter. ☤

TJ: What you mean she’s not here right now, I have an appointment. These people need to see my hair be done live, I heard from a friend this was the best service.

Man: Yes, yes, I can see that, but you’ll have to wait, she’ll be around in an hour or two.

TJ: Then why didn’t you let me pick a time that could be in an hour or two.

Man: You know Haitians, we work on our clock.

TJ: This is why we as a people never go anywhere….

☤Tiberius gives up and just lets it go while turning to shake his head and smiling to the camera. ☤

Sorry everyone, no dice it seems. There’s nothing worse than people who think you have all the time in the world just to deal with their shit 24/7.

That reminds me, that A-Will guy was getting real tense because he wasn’t be waited on hand and foot, calling me a coward for not responding. I wonder what’s taking him so long now, not that I really want to hear from him or anything, his words and mindset are as messy as my uncombed hair right now because some people just have no consideration for others.

He was acting like he had such important topics to talk about that couldn’t wait a few hours before being spoken. Something about some mysterious other figure who is going to get his ass kicked on Dynasty besides-ha ha- me , probably Tyler Parker’s opponent based on what he’s been putting on social media. What makes the guy think his words and view point have any importance on something on the grand scale of Tyler Parker vs Montell Smooth? Why would Tyler Parker even want him to have his back if it isn’t for shits and giggles? In the end, I don’t really care, just responding to his riddle is enough of a waste of my talents and brain power.

Anyways, I’d never play mind games with A-Will like he thinks I am with my so called silence, things that do not exist cannot be played with, I don’t play air guitar and even if I was to force my hand through A-Will’s skull I would not come to pretend there is anything there for me to mess with.  I mean clearly this man is an idiot, he thinks hyping up the fact of his lack of stats not meaning he is a rookie is a good thing, as if being a veteran who hasn’t done shit is better than being a rookie fresh to take the plate. If you’ve done this countless times, and haven’t reached success A-Will that makes you a bad talent that makes you someone who consistently fails and only has longevity to back him up.

Then again, I might be totally off base due to our different concept of “countless”. To me countless is such a large number that you’d either not be able to fathom it, or is so you large you’ve lost track of count. But to you? With your level of intelligence “countless” can just be any amount of times over 2.

Which is quite suitable for you because it’ll probably feel like the ref hit the canvas an infinite amount of times after you replay our match again and again and painstakingly observe how you were unable to respond to the three count when I decided I was done with you. It’s a shame that you seem to be the type of person who likes to observe people like Carlos Rosso, Lucian Black and Aren, yet don’t take anything away from it. Do you see any of those guys talk just to hear the sound of their own voice? Do you see any of those guys give open invitations for others to speak? Of course not, because all of that is a waste of time. I don’t need your invitation to express myself, whether you had given it or not I would have been out here to say what I had to say and I’d do it the in the way that only the Komodo Dragon can. After all, a gunslinger doesn’t need an invitation to roll up in town at high noon and put a bullet through the skull of any punk who thinks he can take over the place, it’s simply a matter of nature, and it comes with the job of being an extremist that your foes have a voice of their own, I just hope you don’t think I’m going to need another invitation too when it comes to wrestling you in that ring, because with or without your permission, I will have my way with you. Let’s just say, that at the end of Dynasty, you and a certain Charlie Scene will have a lot in common to talk about.

 
 
 
???: Interesting how the more things change, the more they stay the same, isn’t it? They took the Extreme out, and yet the EAW you knew and detested is still running on as per normal. Well, I suppose one thing came out of this. At least I won’t be the worst former wrestling personality to debut in EAW this year.
 
 
???: Not the most evil?
 
 
???: Not the most manipulating?
 
 
???: Hmm…So it appears the client doesn’t think much of his savior. Is that the case?
 
 
???: No, no. Don’t worry. I get it. Many people don’t think well of me, if they think anything at all. I have your father’s confidence, but in the world of wrestling? If anyone could recall my past dealings with some of my previous clients…Well, it’s not like what we plan on doing is going to alter those perceptions all that much anyway. Remember, my friend. This is all about recovery. You lost yourself, and soon I will find the true you in the ruined remnants of your psyche. And if you have to smash open a few skulls to do it…Well these people signed up for it and have health insurance. The type of recovery you need goes far beyond a few bone fractures or torn ligaments.
 
 
Hawke: Well, my friend…Therapy is now formally in session.
 
*As the feed fades out, a quick transition sends the video a week into the future in GI’s native state and country of Ontario, Canada. GI and Crane are both entering into a press conference, with many wrestling journalists around them. Crane once again is wearing his very plain suit, while GI wears a much more formal one. Not that you could tell from their respective body language, however, as GI immediately leans back on his chair and starts fingering through his phone, while Dr. Hawke sits upright and smiles back to the sea of faces in front of him*
 
Hawke: Now do we have any questions?
 
Journalist #1: Bill Apter, 1Wrestling.com. GI Styles…Just where have you been these past 8 months?
 
Hawke: I’m afraid that most of that has to remain quite confidential. GI is naturally entitled to his private life, and I expect everyone to respect that right. I will say that he has been training, as evidenced, so you don’t need to worry about that, and that is about all I can tell you.
 
Apter: But I was asking G…
 
Hawke: I will be fielding all of GI’s questions for the immediate future, thank you. Now next question?
 
Reporter #2: Mark O’Meley, Pro Wrestling Illustrated. We understand that you are a licensed psychiatrist, as well as a retired wrestler. In which capacity are you using to manage GI, if I may ask?
 
Hawke: *stroking his chin* Well, I suppose the correct answer is both. Obviously, my knowledge of the wrestling industry, as short as it was, does give me more than sufficient credentials to manage GI and make sure that unfair factors don’t weigh against him. Still, I think it needs to be said here and now…Over the 8 months, GI developed a sickness. I think it is alright for me to say this on the record, because rumours will soon be bound to get out. I can’t tell you where it stemmed from, or even what precisely he has, because that would breach doctor/client confidentiality, but GI was in a bad mental state when I first met him.
 
As it should be known, I am a family friend, and had worked beside GI’s father, the great Gendo Itami, so I am here to help lead him through a rather…Unconventional means of treatment. Let’s just say that the big reason GI is as he is, which is so different from the loud, boisterous and grandiose GI Styles that you all know and love, probably reflects his truer self. Once again, I won’t go too much into it and…*Hawke’s watch starts beeping* Oh, please forgive me.
 
 
Hawke: Sorry about that. It was time for his medicine. Now if…
 
Reporter: OK, what the hell was that?
 
Hawke: That was medicine my good man. Unless any of you and your medical degrees wants to discuss the validity of that with me, can I please go on?
 
 
Reporter #3: Dick Botcher, Lords of Pain.net. GI Styles is scheduled to face “The Sexual Panther” TLA in his return match on Dynasty. Do either of you have any thoughts?
 
Hawke: Well, as a psychiatrist I would have to say that everyone who calls himself “The Sexual Panther”, and regularly hangs around with an eccentric black person and a borderline prostitute has to be overcompensating for something, but with all things considered…
 
 
Hawke: Well, let me just say this about TLA. I think he’s pretty good. In GI’s storied career, he has faced and beaten a lot better, but at the same time, he’s probably fallen against some people who are worse. As his manager, I also have to respect people who have taken influence of other wrestling styles from other countries, so as a man who incorporates a mixture of the old and new styles of Lucha Librè, I think both GI and I respect his skills as a competitor.
 
With that said, as this is GI’s return match…Well, this is not one in which he can afford to lose. This is the man who was the greatest EAW National Extreme, now Elite, Champion of all time. This much is indisputable. And you expect him to fall against the #1 Contender for said belt? While TLA is a fine wrestler, the timing for him is all wrong. While Mr. Corrupt may be an adequate champion, and while TLA may go on defeat him in the coming weeks, TLA is in a position where it would be unacceptable for him to topple the likes of GI Styles. That’s not to say that he can’t win, because only fools deal with absolutes, but from a physical and mental standpoint, it’s going to take a lot more than TLA in a throwaway singles match to even have a chance of defeating GI Styles on his path to redemption.
 
Reporter #4: Skip O’Hanlon, Squared Circle.com. How will you deal with all of TLA’s ‘great equalisers’, in the form of The Pride?
 
Hawke: Skip, Skip, Skip…
 
 
Hawke: Unlike that clown Mustafa, his overgrown mutt or his harlot, I am a professional. Also, unlike all of them, I have acquired a certain level of education of all forms of medicinal, biological and chemical matters, which is why I was able to succeed as a wrestler despite my, let’s say, fairly unintimidating frame. It doesn’t matter how large The Pride is. As long as it is made up of such simple-minded fools and walking stereotypes, they won’t be a match for GI Styles, nor for me.
 
Now, I think we have said all we have come to say. GI, time to take our leave.
 

Kerry Keller wrote:

Voltage promo #4: "Take her to my barracks now she's scared and your embarrassed filled with terror chop your legs off and tell you to run some errands" You seem persistent Mr. "Franchise Demon" So I will tell you again. I will be the victor on Friday, I will be the one with my hand being raised, your the one who will be six feet under this Friday... I WILL BEAT YOU TO A FUCKING PULP AND THEN BEAT YOU AGAIN!!! You have another thing coming if you think your beating EAW's resident Silencer. I will silence YOU and the rumors of my weakness. I'll be getting away with murder this Friday.... You'll see...

Voltage Promo: Their was a storm in the Northeast last week....and their's gonna be a storm coming to EAW. Get ready cause the storm is going to becoming right over you're grave.... Enjoy you're last breaths and get ready to get buried SIX! FEET! UNDER!

Voltage promo #4: "Take her to my barracks now she's scared and your embarrassed filled with terror chop your legs off and tell you to run some errands" You seem persistent Mr. "Franchise Demon" So I will tell you again. I will be the victor on Friday, I will be the one with my hand being raised, your the one who will be six feet under this Friday... I WILL BEAT YOU TO A FUCKING PULP AND THEN BEAT YOU AGAIN!!! You have another thing coming if you think your beating EAW's resident Silencer. I will silence YOU and the rumors of my weakness. I'll be getting away with murder this Friday.... You'll see...

[size=16]CHAPTER 20 - THIS IS HELL (ATHENS, GREECE)
(King Of Elite Promo #4)
"Pounding out aggression, turns into obsession, cannot kill the battery…" - "Battery" by Metallica

***

Hell. Fire. Brimstone. Destruction. Chaos. Havoc. Now I could spend all my time boring all of y'all out of your minds whilst I sit here idly by doing nothing but saying noun after noun after noun, but the matter of the fact is simple. Hell…it's everywhere. Every single person, every single thing, every single object that we can fucking pick up and just stare at…or hold…our touch…has a heaven side to it, and a hell side and as much as the vast majority of us would love to see the heaven side, that good pure side come out and make itself known…it rarely happens. Because people's darkness takes over. People's disdain and disgust for the whole world around them will take over. Their personal hell WILL TAKE OVER.

And unfortunately for some of those people, no matter what others try to do…try to help…try to put together all of the fucking puzzle pieces for them so they'll "oh I don't know" get some form of resolve? They don't want the help. They don't want to actually be decent, and ACTUALLY be good. Instead they let that darkness eat away their soul, and that hell burn everything until all that is left…is nothing.

***

Scotty-boy. Oh Scotty. Man…do YOU ever shut up!? I mean for god's sake kid, at least when you talk or try to explain to the EAW Universe why you deserve that belt and why you deserve to retain…AT-FUCKING-LEAST make some sense. So I' m going to go ahead and break down a few things to the point where even people like yourself who once again wanna solve every single problem by bashing someone's head in can easily understand.

"I respect wrestling and that's why I'm winning the title!" Wow. What a summary. You've nailed it kid, for real. Because out of my 15 minute shindig, I only spent what 1 minute talking about that!? I mean after watching your most recent video that good ol' Zack Crash emailed to me I had a little laugh at first. I mean that's all you went on about. THAT'S THE ONE FUCKING THING YOU HAD A PROBLEM WITH ME TALKING ABOUT! RESPECT…RESPECT…RESPECT!

Well yeah, respect is important…but all the things you described man? Falling on concrete? Getting ourselves dropped on our heads? Doing all of that for this business we work in? The industry that we rightfully call ours? That to me is LOVE. Which is well once again…what I already explained before. Do I have to keep repeating myself to you Scotty? Is that what you want before everything I'm saying, ultimately makes sense in that little brain of yours? Because you already contradicted yourself in the opening seconds of your video, then you keep talking about love for this business and not respect. I mean I'm not going anywhere for a few hours so I can repeat myself again!…But frankly son, you're just ain't worth my fucking time.

LOVE FOR THIS INDUSTRY! Is pushing yourself to the limit 24 hours a day. It's knowing that you can't see your family for 300 days a week because you're on the road constantly in this business. It's getting your FUCKING NECK BROKEN BECAUSE SOME DUMBASS KID THINKS HE CAN HIT A POWERBOMB AFTER ONLY ONE MONTH OF TRAINING. THAT IS LOVE! BUT RESPECT!? That's actually GIVING A FUCK ABOUT YOUR PEERS. That's actually GIVING A FUCK ABOUT YOUR FANS. And most importantly…it's walking into that very, very, VERY RING AND HAVING A CLEAN MATCH.

NO FUNNY BUSINESS. NO UNDERHANDED TACTICS OR SHIT BECAUSE YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN'T BEAT ANYBODY FAIR AND SQUARE SO YOU GOTTA BUST 'EM OUT TO GET AHEAD DON'T YA!? ACTING LIKE TOUGH!? YOU WANNA BE TOUGH!? WELL PROVE IT! STOP PULLING THIS BULLSHIT! STOP DOING ALL THIS MONKEY ASS SHIT, AND ACTUALLY WRESTLE SCOTT! Wrestling!? Heard of that word!? HAVE YOU! YOU PROBABLY HAVEN'T BUT I'LL TELL YOU WHAT IT MEANS ANYWAY, "CHAMP!" Wrestling means NO PUNCHING BEFORE MATCHES. It means NO KICKING SOMEONE IN THE FUCKING HEAD BECAUSE YOU'RE PISSED OFF! And it most importantly means YOU RESPECT YOUR COMPETITORS!

You respect and give the satisfaction to everyone you compete in that ring. Because wrestling made you? Yeah it has. BUT WRESTLING HAS MADE EVERYBODY ON THIS EAW ROSTER WHO THE FUCK THEY ARE TODAY! You're not the only one so stop throwing on and parading this goddamn fucking god complex that you've been tossing around ever since you got here son. Wrestling has made…all of us. That's a goddamn fact.

"I respect wrestling and that's why I'm winning that title." Yeah I'm going to back that. Yes I don't give a shit if you don't like it. You know that I've basically took apart your entire promotion video to fucking shreds and that's the only thing you got from that, and guess what? You wanna know why that's the only you thing you got form it!? Because I know why! OH YEAH PICK ME! PICK ME! COME ON MISS JENKINS I KNOW THE ANSWER! It's because you know the rest of what I said…was true.

That's why you've gone mute about it huh? That's why when I called you out on bitching about your accolades, that's when I called you out on "hating people", and that's why when I called you out on that whole spiel I did on "Respect your motherfucking elders" you had nothing to say about it…nothing to comment. Nope it's all "RESPECT THE BUSINESS! RESPECT THE BUSINESS! RESPE-" SHUT. THE FUCK. UP! You had no comment. Nothing to say. So you admit I was right! Holy shit, Scott Oasis admitting Zach Genesis that he's right! I never thought I'd see the day, but you know what there's a first for everything. Thank you for helping me prove my point! You deserve a medal! Honestly! Must have been tough for you BUT CONGRATU-FUCKING-LATIONS SCOTTY-BOY!

So let's keep going on, Genesis is on a roll here! YAY! In a perfect world you talk about my rag to riches story, blah blah blah, getting my dream, blah blah blah, yada fucking yada. Well newsflash dumbo, "dare to dream". You remember this little speech I did months ago? Something my dad used to always tell me? Dreams are what the world is made of. Without dreams you got no hope. Without dreams you have nothing. Without dreams…you're dead inside. You have no drive, nothing to push you…we all have dreams don't deny it…

Although your dream might be about beating some person's face in just because he looked at you funny or some shit mine is about taking that gold. It's what drives me…motivates me…it's the one thing that will make me succeed. BECAUSE I HAVE THAT DRIVE. THAT PASSION. THAT EMOTION! That will be one of the differences come our match on Saturday night…because all you're thinking about is kicking my face right? IT'S WHAT YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW HUH!? BECAUSE IF THE ONLY THING YOU'RE FOCUSED ON IS KICKING MY FACE IN…then you will LOSE…why? Because you're not thinking of what's truly important. Meanwhile my mind? My focus? Gonna be on that Interwire Championship you're currently claiming is yours.

Everything I do at King Of Elite, everything I push myself through come FPV night, every single move, attack and decision I make during the process of that lil' collision course that you and I are gonna be having. Everything I do…one eye will be on you…one eye will be either your friend or my friend Nick Makarov, that remains to be seen…but my mind? My brain? My single train of thought pushing through my head the entire single time? That championship belt. Holding it…embracing it…cherishing that moment…and most of all? Celebrating with all of my fans in Athens the night I win it, because I ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT MY FANS, UNLIKE SOME OTHER PEOPLE.

"WAH! I'm Scott Oasis! WAH! I wanna play the book but I can't! WAH! I CAN'T BECAUSE MY WHOLE LIFE IS BUILT AROUND EVERY PERSON WHO SPAT ON ME, EVERY PERSON WHO SAID I WOULDN'T MAKE IT!" Oh for fucks sake Scotty-boy, grow a pair and man-up. CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER FOR GODS SAKE! You think I had the easiest time growing up!? My dad was never home because he was working late, my mother was an alcoholic that left the family when I was 10 and since that I had to look after my younger brother Aaron. I've been spat on. I've been told COUNTLESS TIMES that I'd never amount to anything, so yes growing up…I had a similar upbringing to you did.

But you know what? Unlike you, I DIDN'T TURN OUT LIKE A POMPOUS, CHEATING, LYING SHITHEAD WHO THOUGHT THE BEST COURSE OF ACTION WOULD BE TO DO AS LITTLE WORK AS POSSIBLE, AND TRY AND GET THINGS DONE "THE EASY WAY!" I took all that heat! All of that hell! All of that criticism, hate and everything that came with out and I used it as fuel. Fuel to my fire. I don't use it to BEAT PEOPLE UP. I don't use it to SMACK INNOCENTS IN THE HEAD! YES! I FUCKING WENT THERE! I used it to get better, to PROVE EVERYONE WRONG by working and pushing myself…the honest way. The proper way. I don't blame my outbursts and aggression on it…I use it to shape myself to become the person I am too. AN ACTUALLY GOOD PERSON. Now I know "good" doesn't exist in Scott Oasis's personal dictionary, but it's who I am, it shaped me, and that's fucking. fact.

Alright enough dawdling, enough running around, time to wind all this shit down. You claim that next to serial killers you're sane? Hell my alcoholic mother who would beat me with her belt, and on my birthday would give me her "present" by throwing her beer bottles at me but personally missing would be sane next to a serial killer too kid. But in this business you're nothing more than a sadistic sick freak who loves nothing more than to stomp people in, and kick heads when it isn't warranted. There's nothing about you being sane champ. There's something about you being sick, disgusting and an absolute disgrace to what I do for a living.

You placed a target on yourself? YOU'VE ALWAYS HAD A TARGET ON YOUR BACK SCOTTY! EVERY GOOD GUY IN THIS EAW LOCKER ROOM WERE ALWAYS STARING AT THAT TARGET! JUST WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO TAKE AIM, AND CONNECT WITH THEIR SHOT! And the lovely, lovely people of EAW management have decided that I'm the man to take the job. I'm the man that has the golden gun. And I'm the man who will fucking aim and fucking. fire.

You've seen what I've done when I'm at my A-Game. Brian Daniels…Troy Archello…those are just a few names of people that I've been victorious when I have nothing on my mind except my eyes on the prize. And sadly for you, come Athens, Greece. Come KOE I will be at my A Game. I WILL BE AT MY PEAK! I mean for fucks sake, that's your reasoning for why you'll win? You survived way too much for this? Beat you until you can fight no longer and even then you think it won't be enough?

Choice words for a champion. Because I mean not stating your athletic abilities or your skill in the ring, yeah good job proving to me, everyone and everyone's mother that you're going to retain. TOP EFFORT CHAMP! Your mind is too focused on me and not what's important here. The belt. The gold. The title. You're going to be off your game. You're not going to focus on what matters. YOU WON'T, AND I WILL. And that will be the deciding factor in two nights time. Your mind is foggy, you're preoccupied. Mine is clear, and focused. And the absolute second you slip up WHICH YOU WILL, I WILL CAPITALISE! I WILL TAKE YOU DOWN AND ALL IT TAKES IS THREE FUCKING SECONDS AND YOU WILL BE HISTORY!

1…

2…

3…

See you Saturday…Scotty.

***
"Circle of destruction, hammer comes crushing, powerhouse of energy…"
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