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 EAW Promoz!

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Xaypay

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Posts : 1
Age : 18
Hailing From : Wherever I Want
Status : Soon To Be Signed With EAW

20160630
PostEAW Promoz!

Here you can write promos about shows, Elitist, Vixens, matches, or anything else in EAW. Please do not spam, or put pointless things that aren't promos and DO NOT CHALLENGE ANYONE and remember, THIS IS ALL FAKE AND STORYLINE so please do not take anything serious. Thank you.

ALL CARDS POSTED ON THE HOME PAGE OF THE FORUM!


Last edited by Xaypay on June 30th 2016, 10:32 pm; edited 1 time in total
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EAW Promoz! :: Comments

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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 9th 2016, 6:11 pm by Rex32
Well, after some serious thought about the changes that happen here from time to time, you would believe after being in this company for eight months that this should be something I'm used to by now. The reluctance to lash out without recourse, for past transgressions made by the suits in an effort to hold my head down underwater, is a thing of beauty. They tried to drown me, but I held my breath. I survived the poignancy period early on, and then I began to rise above it all. Year ten of EAW is yet another chance to make a splash. Swimming on my own, going my own way with no life preserver, no life raft. I know there is always that chance I could almost drown again, l doubt it, but you never get to find out if you don't try to swim on your own. This ocean is big, and the possibility to thrive or get swallowed alive is always going to be there, but you still have got to try, throw caution to the wind, or else you'll never know. 

So the draft is tonight, huh? Exciting, isn't it? The unknown. Where will I be by next week? Does it affect my momentum? So little was made of the progress that I had made in the remainder of my time on Showdown. Remarkably, I was like the San Antonio Spurs, where I was winning matches, but doing so with very little being made of it. Nobody really talking about the 180 i was doing week after week all the way into Pain For Pride. Even my performance in Cash In The Vault speaks volumes of how far I will go to achieve victory. If not for the Grand Slam by The Nas off the top of the ladder, I might be calling myself Mr. Cash In The Vault. Again, nobody cares. I should find that rather insulting, right? I mean, I work my tail off for results, and proceeded to find my place in the pecking order rising with each victory. I am not insulted though. Just expect that i will work that much harder. The next place I go, I WILL make a positive impact right away, proving that my success of the last few months wasn't simply the result of finally getting a firm grasp of things as they were being run from week to week on Showdown. I've intently kept up with EVERYONE and EVERYTHING. Wherever my next destination is, I will start to reape the rewards of my hard work this time around. My momentum will continue, and nobody can shake me or derail me off my path. Wherever I go, I will make it a point to become the face of that Brand. Mark my words.

Lots of new talent have made the waves here in 2016, and that's what I'm up against as I try to move up. Other new talent that want it as much as I do. If it's not Showdown that I return to, then believe that Dynasty, Voltage, or even Turbo will come to know what I'm all about. Time to continue my evolution here in Elite Answers Wrestling. The only question I have for fellow new talents is, whose going to evolve with me?
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 9th 2016, 1:52 am by Hades
**The camera comes into focus of a seemingly deserted piece of land possibly hundreds of miles away from civilization.  Judging from the positioning of the glowing moon in the starry sky, the time could be anywhere between 11pm to 2am.  At first we are welcomed to the serene surroundings of the beautiful country side at dark; there’s an ovation of fireflies surrounding a large 20ft. by 20ft. wooden shed attending a recital colonized by a choir of chirping crickets until.. the roar of an ’85 Chevrolet K20 is heard.

Its depiction.. lifted several feet off the ground.. colored charcoal black with the high beams dialed all the way up, reflecting on the shed in question.  Shortly after the vehicle’s placement in park, the engine is shut off and proceeds to cool to the hardly audible but gradual knocking.  Though turned off, the lights remain on.  The door on the driver’s side opens and out steps the 6ft. 10in. Hellraiser from Devil Town, North Carolina; donning a flannel checkerboard printed apparel, dark denim jeans, dark working boots, and a biker rag crowning his forehead while his auburn brown hair cascades down his shoulders.  

He slams the door shut without a word at first, exceeding towards the dual doors of what is presumed to be his shed, grabbing firm hold of the door handles and pulling them back with enough force that they part open completely.  His rather large footsteps fill the area with suspicion.  What could be in there?  What could be his purpose for being here?  The answers resided in the truth of the light.  A swift tug on a foot long piece of string overhead powered a  single light bulb which gave more visual clarity to the area that surrounded the former Answer’s Champion.

Hades was surrounded by deadly agricultural tools that anyone aware of his hot temper and violent mood swings, would not only expect but commend him on his efforts to keep them out of plain sight.

The inside walls of the shed were coated with shovels, grubbing axes, asparagus knives, pitch forks, sledgehammers, biker chains, etc.  Motioning forward, he takes a moment to admire the serration of each dangerously sharp blade, grazing the edge of his fingers on the bend of the grass hook specifically.**

"Like a passing storm, Pain for Pride has come to pass and left us -- the victors, survivors, poets of history, and forgers of our own destinies -- to cope with the aftermath.  There is destruction and ruin where there was once life and prosperity.  For many of us that means a chance to rebuild.  Turn these rundown living quarters into empires to be marveled in making them the envy of every self-imposing God that rests atop a cloud; such as Lucian Black.  But for me, Pain for Pride IX was about defending the honor of a legacy that has been made a mockery of since the day I hung up my cape and felt hat.  The Darkness.  I recall a simpler time when it meant something.  Men like myself, who put themselves in harm’s way performing death defying stunts that would’ve sent us to an early grave if we’d given it a second’s hesitation.  It was that, doing things that normal men -- sane men wouldn’t dare do -- choosing to go against the grain and daring to be an individual THAT made us one with the Darkness.  So it isn’t all witchcraft and devil worship.  Every man and woman in the EAW has that in them.. that burning desire or that tiny two-horned fellow that sits on their left shoulder convincing them to do that which their conscience refutes.. but what separates us is the testicular fortitude to actually implement it."

**For the first time throughout this entire scene, he pry’s himself from the wall full of tools and turns his full attention to the camera present.  The chilling glare in his eyes cold enough to make Hell freeze over.**

"I was fooled into believing this entire time, that Eclipse wanted to destroy me so that he could be the new standard for darkness.  But now I see clearly.  He was but a fan of mine, with hopes of reacquainting me with the lost art I’d forsaken.  However, his “help” came at a price too steep for me to pay.  He wanted to utilize me in the same way Crash had, as his instrument of destruction; but what he, like many in the EAW have forgotten, is that I am NO man’s instrument.  These that lace this very wall behind me.. are instruments of destruction.. mere tools that I bend at my will and imagination.  Who am I?  I am the wielder, the handler, the craftsman of destruction."

**He removes the bandanna from his head, followed by the flannel button-up.  Taking it from the lower hem and pulling it directly over his head prior to throwing it carelessly to the dirt ground he stood on.**

"Ironic isn’t it?  Instead of making me one with their army, they in their attempts to do so unintentionally became one with mine, the dead.  The unfortunate souls who were carried to lands outlawed to the living; soon to be joined by a hopeful third."

**Hades glances over to the left, where in the corner resides a nearby hook.  On it is his long black trench coat and felt hat.  He takes his time in taking hold of it, draping his coat over his broad herculean shoulders and placing his hat firmly on his head.  A twisted sideways grin takes mold of his bearded lips.  In the midst of this pause he also takes hold of the grass hook recklessly toying with its razor sharp edge in one hand while the other remains firmly on the handle.**

"So, the real Kevin Devastation has reared his ugly head.. I can’t even begin to fathom the logic behind your reprehensible actions, as there’s simply no justifying what you did.  I wasn’t as mistakenly optimistic about your erratic return as the rest; I knew that you were only using my quarrel with the Sanatorium to get your name back on a marquee and I was fine with it, as long as you could do your job and we could all go home happy but that was obviously too big a chore for you to handle wasn’t it?  You just couldn’t bear the thought of being reduced to standing in the shadows while the next person has their moment to pickle in the limelight; and I believe that to be the saddest attribute one of your status could encompass.  You have everything – wealth, credentials, etc. – and yet you’re driven to such poignant tactics by your insecurities; it’s simply pathetic!  It’s no secret that I’ve always despised you.. but at the very least I could say that there was a tiny shred of respect for you somewhere in my nonexistent heart.  But now?  Now I just pity you.

In the EAW I’ve encountered my fair share of assholes.. Ares Vendetta, Tyler Parker, Eclipse, and Erebos.. but you, Kev-o, you really take the cake.  Perhaps you can have your cake and eat it too?  Well, I surely hope it’s been sweet because here is where things are bound to turn bitter for you.  It all starts with the realization, you’re on cloud nine still riding the high from Pain for Pride when you realize, ‘holy shit, this isn’t over’.  When you realize that you’ve bargained safe days of sunbathing on the shores for dangerous nights burning in a hell of your own making.  No longer will Death tread softly at the mere mention of your name.  The time has come where even Kevin Devastation must perish; not by my hand or wish, but by his own.  Within the instant of your latest swerve you had proverbially carved through your veins with a hungry knife blade.. you’re approaching the state of critical, where death is imminent.. now it’s only a matter of time."

**He pulls his hand from the blade of the instrument and he appears to be bleeding.  Blood trickles down his fingers and palm, but he shows little to no emotion or pain from it.  Hades proceeds to lick the blood off his hand and wipe the remains across his chest.  With the grass hook, he looks to make his exit from the shed, turning off the light overhead and motioning toward the exit only to glance over his shoulder back into the camera one last time to say.. **

"My army will surely strengthen in your sacrifice."

**Fin.**
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 11:57 pm by Aria Jaxon
SINK OR SWIM -- ORLANDO, FLORIDA.

I don’t know who to blame for this. Ashten Cross, maybe, since he was the one who made you feel like you were somebody? He had an entire rookie class to choose from, and he chose you. I suppose that makes you feel like you got bragging rights, since you're the one with the prize at stake here. If anything, me not being the defending Cup holder is all the motivation I need to go out there and knock you off the pedestal you never deserved to stand on in the first place. I need to right a wrong. You're not the best newcomer to have passed through EAW's doors in the last year, I am. You holding the Cup doesn't make any sense, so I have to rectify that. I don’t know who got in your ear and made you feel like a franchise player when you’re really just a glorified benchwarmer. Truth is, the so-called “Wrestling Machine” is actually nothing more than a cog in the EAW machine, and a faulty one at that. You’ve conveniently been able to divert a little attention from that as of late. Like I’ve said more than once before, the lackluster people you’ve crossed paths with -- the Berettas, Terry Chambers, and the Nobis of the world -- made it easy to disguise your very real weaknesses and flaws as a competitor, because let’s face it, you didn’t have to tackle any real challenges. If recent history has taught us anything, it’s that whenever Lucas Johnson faces someone even remotely good, he chokes. You’re in over your head here. You can use your brushes with some of EAW’s best and brightest and wear them as badges, but I’ll shake my head and laugh. You just survive run-ins with top dogs, whereas I’ve proven I can actually beat them. That is what you’re dealing with, Lucas. And if you don’t believe me, remember that many of the men you’ve name-dropped before are people I’ve shared the ring with as well, and surely, I gave them more of a run for their money than you did. Hell, I even beat a couple of the ones you listed. Again, that’s the difference -- you survive, I thrive. It’s taken everything outta you just to keep your head above the surface of the water. Not to say I haven’t had to bust my ass as well, but man, I make hard work look good. It’s taken this much for you just to be viewed in halfway-serious light, and I can’t help but to think that it’s still not enough. The Young Lions Cup is your life preserver, and it’s the only reason you’re floating now. Tomorrow night, I take it from you. I wonder how long it’ll take you to sink to the bottom. That’s your rightful place, isn’t it?

I’m supposed to be intimidated by you saying you suplexed my friends all over the ring last weekend, Lucas? Am I supposed to be put off by you threatening to break my arm? Let’s be honest, over the last couple of weeks, it wouldn’t be the first time you’d said shit like that to a Vixen. I’m somehow meant to be shaking in my boots at your implication that you could go out there during our match and exploit your very real size advantage and bulldoze over me. I’m sure you feel as though you’ve got something to prove, in that regard. It’s always been true in wrestling that the biggest and the strongest people can’t necessarily always be penciled in as the winners. You found that out the hard way, didn’t you? You spent the entire duration of your time in the match against women who were a fraction of your size, who you undoubtedly outweighed and could manhandle. And yet...when it came down to it, all your amateur acumen and strength wasn’t enough to claw your way outta that hole. Or outta Cailin’s clutches, for that matter. So spare me. You can put on your bravest face and showcase your scariest snarl to try and cause nonexistent feelings of fear in me to bubble to the surface, but you’re grasping for straws. What does you having been “on fire” back at Pain for Pride have to do with anything? It was your strongest in-ring performance to date, but what good does that do when even your best isn’t good enough to get the job done? You might’ve been on fire, but the Vixens sure knew how to extinguish it. I feel like it eats away at you, because in the interest of sounding a little immature, that tapped into every little boy’s worst fear: getting beat by a girl. Oh, you were advertising all the same shit you’re saying to me now, talking about how much bigger you are, how much stronger you are, and how you were bound to hurt every woman who crossed your path. How’d that work out for you? We might not be on that grand stage anymore, but the stakes are even higher now, because the Young Lions Cup is at stake. At least this time, the numbers aren’t working against you. You don’t have to contend with five Vixens, just one. Don’t foolishly think this is the equivalent of getting off easy. You couldn’t withstand the division’s front line, so in your words, you’re tryna cut off the head. You think, if you trample over me, somehow it’ll atone for your failures last week. You won’t get that chance. You’ll just have to take that loss for what it was, because I don’t foresee you getting the opportunity to do anything to make the world forget about you not doing what you said you would. We both lost last week, but the difference between you and I is that I’m about to rebound quick as hell. That division that beat your ass? I was forged in that fire. The Vixens division of present day has a way of weeding out the weak and turning those left behind into the toughest women in the world. Ascending to the top of it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I had it in me. That is why I look at you as someone I can beat, because I’ve already tangled with the same women who beat your ass. Your faulty promises of my demise and your victory don’t scare me. I couldn’t think of a better place for all of this to happen. It’ll be a night to remember. It’s a night of new beginnings, and closing older chapters. It’s a night where an “anything can happen” vibe wafts through the air. The night of the Draft, Battleground ends, and so does your time as the Young Lions Cup holder. While some Elitists are being traded to new brands and starting new periods in their careers, I open a new chapter in my own story, where I stand atop this illustrious freshman class as the Young Lions Cup holder. Me being ready for this was never a question, and who would leave Orlando with the Cup was never truly in question. I was always prepared for this challenge. The Cup was always gonna be mine. You were always doomed to fall short -- at the Empress’ feet, no less.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 11:54 pm by Stephanie Matsuda
Battleground Promo #3

“No More Chances”


He was right. I tried to warn you, tried to make an offer to you. You still don’t get it. Maybe you believe in yourself to the point of delusion. This attitude has brought you a moderate amount of success, but it won’t take you to the upper echelon Cailin. Not while you're prone to walking away from things that make you uncomfortable. That’s pretty much what you did with us. I stopped being fun for you and the reality of having actual consideration for my feelings cramped your style. Keep believing that you’re some kind of true neutral bad ass, always ready for a fight. Keep thinking you’re going to take this victory from me. The only way we find out if we square off. The stars are aligned and we both knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. You no longer have to worry about me hanging on to something that once was. You gave me your answer and now you’re the enemy.

I didn’t want to harbor my hate against you. When one stands back and looks at it from a distance, the issue is not as big as it seems right? We both were dicks to each other and now we’re over. But just standing there...taking your bullshit. I could no longer stomach it. That white hot rage came boiling from the depths of my insecurities. Yes, I felt insecure around you and Tarah. It had nothing to do with your talents...but rather the anger I had with myself to allow myself to be treated in such a way. Coming off such a personal battle with Haruna changed me...tamed me in a way. I come back home to find my lady distracted, being led around like a puppy with ADD. You can call yourself Poison Ivy, Captain America, and whatever names you need to convince yourself that your confidence can stand against the tide of My Reality. At the end of the day, you’ll just be known as another uninspired HBB clone. HBG #2 perhaps? Cailin Michaels? Who the hell knows. (sighs)

No longer breathing for you, from the clouds comes lightning. I will strike you down with every ounce of fury in the very fiber of my being Cailin Dillon. I will shock you to the depths of your core. The sound of thunderous fury will clap against your ears as you feel the full extent of my rage. No more olive branches, no more passes for because of an old romance. I will break your body and diminish your spirit. As the ref counts three I will stand above you and see the look of horror on your face when you realized you nowhere near the level of skill I’m at. Keep skateboarding with Tarah and Ryan. Keep going shopping with Aria. Keep losing time at the gym as I SPEND EVERY WAKING MOMENT PERFECTING MY ART! You wanted your friends circle? You got it. What you lose is the ability to prove you’re better than a focused Cloud Matsuda...an unlocked War Queen who has become the Sword of Sanatorium. At the end of these things I usually say time to fly, but I plan on clipping your wings for good. In that case…

Prepare to get cut.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 11:42 pm by Guest
Another fight looks to be denied when someone follows an impulsive mind set rather than the truth that is laid out in front of him, a disaster that could have been avoided but instead will only cause him to sink further into despair. I wasn’t set on proving but rather further highlighting what is already known: that any path I am placed on will inevitably be set ablaze as I continue to march with no distractions. These are not words used to rejuvenate an aching and defeated body as even those who look at me from the other side of the squared circle know that I fire on all cylinders. This isn't naive arrogance over a second wind gained which could easily be lost through carelessness, or me walking out of Pain for Pride one of the few who prevailed, facing a man who walks away from the spectacle losing one of the biggest matches of his life because I knew that it wasn’t so black and white. I thought the man I was facing knew how to move forward, but instead he reveals just how confused he is on which direction to go. Showing an affinity for going backwards as he pretends that this "invincible" coping mechanism didn’t lose decisively against his rival just a couple of months ago, or still holding onto the notion that his Grand Rampage victory is anything more than just the answer to a trivia question. When we have our bouts, we all want our opponents to be shoved in little boxes so that it becomes easy to not feel challenged, to cast others as one dimensional so that criticizing hardly comes their way. This is the hand we are dealt when men are callously pigeon-holed. When they see a man once vulnerable, they feel obligated to walk right past him, only to spiral in confusion when one of them doesn’t budge. Underdogs race to shed their flaws away as they come to the realization that time works against them and they will be crushed by misfortunes, but what happens above to the few who get more concerned over annoyances than actual loss that pain feels like it creeps up on them? They act like the interior is still fine, but come crawling forward and try to gorge on other names like vultures, believing that they still get to play executioner when it is their head that is in the guillotine.

Despite so many finding a way to toy with you as if you were a puppet, I won’t play with the insecurities that must be swarming your brain. You’re fuming deep inside, but you didn’t fall off the proverbial ladder and have to climb back up like so many, you close your eyes as you wipe away your tears and stop quivering, but wake up still up in the clouds as losses that kill careers can’t stop you. Through defeat, you still experience respect being given to you even by those who curse your name, only few can ever fathom that, but that doesn’t cause you to leap for joy the same way a rookie does when he wins his first title. I now stand on the precipice of this industry one of the greatest wrestlers, but you’re right, that doesn’t make me a free man for I pace back and forth constantly thinking of what is in arm's reach even through sleep, however—neither are you. Because we become restless for our ambitions which are created faster than we can finish them, like a carrot dangling over our head that will always be replaced. Seven reigns is the goal now, some would say that can be the final, but when your perpetual rival manages to catch up to you, you will take your aging ruined body and head back into the fray once more to grab another one, and another one and another one. You can repress your humanity but much like flaws, it will continue to rise to the surface. Fight believing that you drowned out all the experiences that make you happy or make you cry, but that means nothing if with each step you take, you still show the anger, jealousy, and an impatient desire to be feared which can only come from a man who knows he's been wounded. Because that’s all this is. The Machine at this point means nothing for no matter how many title reigns you have, even you are a cog as long as you don’t add on to that, as long as those who spit on your name face no consequences. And does not fearing you mean the same as spitting on your legacy? Then add me to the list too. This isn’t the lower rung where the ideologically deprived thrive and all that matter is if you can overpower me, yet you feel the need to get bigger, get a different paint job no matter how nothing changes from within, but your legend dictates this is all you are and all the perks and drawbacks that come with it. I am walking into the draft show to face a man who has six reigns to his belt, but I am also facing the man who lost in the main event no matter how much he distances himself from it. I see the few get swept off their feet due to downplaying the reality of time. Only short-sighted into believing that if nobody is able to provoke them now then they can continue the same routine through the future. One shot is all it takes to destroy rumors of invincibility and you can try to hide it, but you're leaving a trail of blood. At this stage, you’re a shark not realizing that he is only showing his teeth to other sharks, a predator believing that I will play the same role as so many who fell, but you know that's not going to be the song and dance. I wasn’t a happy go lucky prisoner who simply wanted to bask in the sunlight, but a pragmatist who had a plan since day one. Despite how no strings are attached to me, I still am a slave to my ambitions just as much as you are. I neglect my body, but that is the price I am willing to pay to make sure a new chapter starts. Better to shed blood, then to suffer mental anguish.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 10:26 pm by Lucas Johnson
EAW Draft Promo #5 - The Cloud Moves On....

When I was handed the Young Lions Cup I thought it was my time to shine, I thought the New Breed was going to shine with bringing back the concept that worked before and sure as hell will work again this time around. Aria not only you but the whole locker room is trying to make excuses that I was handed the Young Lions Cup and don't deserve it. I damn well deserve this shinny and beautiful trophy, I deserve every accomplishment I have done so far in my career and I truly fucking believe I am the next person in line to get a shot at the New Breed Championship. Pain for Pride 9 may have not been night but it was damn sure something that will not go to waist, that night I was on fire. I was blazing through the whole vixens team that are your friends Aria....belly to belly, german after german after german suplex right into the canvas! I also was about two seconds away from breaking someone's arm and ruining their night by sending them to the hospital and that hospital bill maybe coming your way Aria if you are lucky enough and don't piss me the hell off. But seriously any other person on the roster could have been awarded the cup first over me like Christian Locke, Phoenix Winterborn, or even Beretta but you guys decide to pick on me just because I was first in line? I don't think so Aria, if anything you should be the one with the bigger target on your back over me because you are the fastest rising star not only in the Vixens division right now but the whole main roster on it's own, you were awarded Rookie of the Year for a reason! Want to know the reason? Want to know the reason why I have such a big target on my back right now? It is because I have the one thing that is helping me get one step closer to capturing the New Breed Championship and that is the beautiful Young Lions Cup. You claim I am using the cup and yourself as a stepping stool? Your damn right I am using the Young Lions Cup as a step stool because I want championship gold around my waist, why else would I want the cup Aria? Am I just going to defend the cup every week and go no where in my career? Hell no! You have to think about bigger and better things in life to achieve goals and the one and only goal I have in mind right now is capturing the thing JJ Silva is holding and that is not Zack Crash's balls, that is the New Breed Championship. But the million dollar question is am I Lucas 'The Wrestling Machine' Johnson using the empress of the elite, Aria Jaxon as a step stool to reach greater success? The answer to that million dollar question is hell no, do you want to know why I wanted this fight for so long? Oh my god....he just used the word match over fight! You're damn right I just did because I can't wait to rip you into shreds, get your blood all over my hands and especially get this black cloud over me. Ever since Pain for Pride I just have seen your reflection in the mirror, the mind games have started ever since then and they need to end tomorrow night. I couldn't defeat the Vixens division as a team but I realized what I need to do, to avenge my loss at Pain for Pride I need to take out the leader of the Vixens division at least in my mind and that is you Aria Jaxon. 

The amounts of glass in my hand still won't get your reflection out of the mirror, I look to you as a sister Aria, almost as a tag team because we have such similar lives right now. It will hurt me very much to fight you on Battleground but I have to do this for myself and my well being, I didn't only do this to get the black cloud over my head but I also needed this match-up to prove everyone in the back that it's time to put up or shut up. It's time to prove to everyone that I can beat someone that is equally or better to JJ Silva and prove I am in the title contention with him, the New Breed Championship means everything to me right now and I will not stop until I capture that championship gold. I've done fine? I was the one that said to the Voltage executives and Ashten Cross himself that I bring on all comers, I don't care who I face I will defend my Young Lions Cup proudly they just happened to pick Nobi and Luke Reign. While Luke Reign may have been a walk in the park, I have to say Nobi was very close to knocking me off the throne and capturing the cup not even a week since I was awarded it from Ashten Cross. I will be perfectly honest and say Nobi is probably the future of the New Breed division and will no doubt be a big star down the line but right now it's my time baby. Want to talk about making history? How about I will be the first time in a long time if not ever to defeat you Aria for the second time in a row after suffering a huge Pain for Pride loss and not your rebound and making yourself relevant again in the title picture. How about that making history? How about also I become the first man to cash in the Young Lions Cup since it was reintroduced? How about I become the first man to break your damn arm when I make you say the words 'I Quit' when you scream like a little girl tomorrow night at the draft lottery? The black cloud is about to move onto another individual and the mirror will finally fall with Aria Jaxon's face on it as Lucas Johnson's face rises once again with two victories away from earning a title shot that I will earn! The time has come for all of this to end, for all this drama and talking to be done. It's time to put up or shut up, the lion is ready Aria the question is are you?
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 9:36 pm by J.D. Damon
“Let me ask you… When you look into my eyes, what do you see? I can tell you what you don’t see. You no longer see the eyes of the Pure Champion. You do not see the eyes of a man who was victorious against seventeen others and is currently carrying around the 24/7 contract. That, my friends, is what you do not see. You want to know what I see? When I look into a mirror, I see the eyes of a man who is hell-bent on doing whatever it takes to make sure that he is the more superior competitor on a brand. I see the eyes of a BEAST who is hell-bent on regaining his throne at the very top. I realized that I do not need a fancy championship belt around my waist nor do I need a piece of paper in order to be great. Those things are not what makes someone great, because I, my friends, am already GREAT. And it does not matter one bit which brand I end up on tomorrow night. Showdown, Dynasty, hell, I could stay right here on Voltage. It doesn’t matter to me one bit, because regardless of who ends up where, J.D. Damon will still be the alpha male of that brand. You don’t believe me? Try me.”
 
“Tomorrow night I will step into the ring alongside “Mr. 24/7” himself, Christian Locke, against two men who I have quite the history with in Carson Ramsay and Kenny Drake. First and foremost, Christian Locke, my tag team partner for tomorrow night's draft show, congratu-fucking-lations on walking out victorious at Pain for Pride 9. So, how does it feel, Christian? How does it feel beating a plethora of competitors in order to earn that fancy piece of paper? I'm sure it feels pretty frigen good; knowing you overcame the odds on the grandest stage of them all. I applaud you on that. Nobody thought that you could actually do it, and you proved every single doubter, including myself, wrong. I described you as being nothing more than the newest flavor of the month, and you know what? I still stand behind that remark. You may have won that contract in which you may challenge ANY champion for their belt at any time, but will you stick around long enough in order to accomplish that? Hell, even if you do, will you be able to actually overcome those odds and walk out with a shiny piece of gold around your waist? I highly doubt it, but then again - I have been wrong before. Tomorrow night, though, for a few minutes we need to put our differences and bullshit in the past. This tag team match is a match that could end up going down in history as one of the greatest matches ever in our industry. A match where I need you to have your head in the game and help me beat - no, ANNIHILATE - these two rejects. It is time once and for all to put an end to the bullshit that Carson Ramsay and Kenny Drake infest us all with. It's time to put an end to their careers. Can you help me do that, Christian? I know you can."

"Carson Ramsay, how does it feel walking around without that belt in your possession? How does it feel? You feel empty and hopeless; which is exactly how I had felt for so long. And now you know exactly what is like to be me. It feels pretty shitty, doesn't it? And who did you end up losing that Pure Championship to? An old timer who is retiring from professional wrestling! A man who claims to actually care about this sport and who claims to actually care about the Pure Championship, but in reality? He doesn't give a flying fuck. Out of all of the people on this roster you lost it to StarrStan! That must make you feeling like absolute shit. I know that you will try to shrug it off because he's a Hall of Famer and all of that lame shit, and you will say something stupid along the lines of, "It was an honor and privilege to face him at Pain for Pride." Give me a break, Carson! That's exactly why I am finally going to kick your teeth down your stupid throat, for those stupid thoughts going through your head. And Kenny Drake, why are you still even around? Why am I facing you... yet again? When you beat me during our death match weeks ago, I thought that was the end of you and I. I thought it was over, but apparently I thought wrong. Now that powers to be in this company want to watch me beat your ass... again. Which I have absolutely no problem doing. Hell, I will even get some sort of sick pleasure in doing so. Tomorrow night, boys, I will make sure to change your lives; but, not for the good."
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 9:19 pm by Carson Ramsay
For the first time in a long time, I'm rendered speechless. Tight-lipped, at a peculiar loss for words. Worst part of it all? I know exactly why. If only I was oblivious to the reason, if I was merely the victim of a fateful occurence that was not fruit of something I had a hand in hatching. Granted even if that hypothesis was a reality, the thread sewing my lips shut wouldn't suddenly become of spider silk, but at least it would have pulverized most of the feelings that consume the very core of me as I speak. Pain for Pride didn't leave a simple mark on me upon its conclusion, my match with Starr Stan didn't just leave me contending with a stamp of defeat; I wish it was that easy. Last weekend engraved a myriad of scars into every scratchable inch of my body, and I'm far from exaggerating. Failure, regret, shame, abnegation even; all of said traits and more of the same foul nature came raining down on me the moment I was laid out by an Olympic Slam for a comfortable three count. Afterwards though, a swarm of a different scent was poured my way and all it took was a few words from a legend. Unbeknownst to me at that time, all that I needed to combat the effects of a defeat - especially one of PFP's magnitude - and rekindle the flame was a peptalk. It's not like I couldn't be able to dust myself off on my own and just continue reaching for the sparkly whites in the sky, I easily could have. I've been thrown down deeper and much murkier pits than a championship loss, against one of the absolute greatest this business has ever had no less. And I survived them all, regardless of how long it took me to. Howbeit, for a man who once publicly claimed that he lost all faith in you and that you have succumbed to being a disgrace to the Pure Championship, for said man to grab a microphone just after a hellacious battle with you and begin singing the praises of your performance for eighty some thousand people in attendance to soak in is just a tad bit more special. Not only that but it also helped quickly thrust my morale upward; where it always stood. Which brings me back to the plight that I introduced earlier; ever since Pain for Pride came to a close and up until today, I've stayed silent. Unlike most of my peers, I didn't immediately go out to abuse the luxury of being exposed at such an international level, I didn't empty the paycheck on cruises and women; I just packed my things up and left for Boulder City. There awaited the perfect atmosphere for me to take some time to unwind and lick my wounds, so to speak. Bottle in one hand, shards of glass and blood covering the other; separate shots were not going to do me any good. From one bottle to two, from two to four, from four to ten; one thing that was a nagging constant in all of this was recalling every word Starr spoke of me over and over again, every single FUCKING DAY. Of course, the scenery wouldn't be complete if flashes of him slamming me onto the ground and raising MY title over his head didn't ceaselessly play in the back of mine right after. Yeah, that's about it; that's all that Carson Ramsay has been up to since the second of this month, ladies and gents. Jot it all down TMZ, this scoop might actually make you partially relevant again. 

What really bugged me though, what truly shat on my nerves is the fact that I never uttered single word about the whole ordeal, not even to myself. I'm sure this will be mistaken for a madman's motto, and maybe it is, but I tend to converse with myself on the daily. Reason being is rather discernible; nobody else understands me better. So when yours truly finds it daunting to communicate with his own conscience, that is of perilous rarity. And I had to live with that, for five days drunken o' me had to wrap his head around the situation and come up with a solution. While I was in the midst of attempting to do as such by first recapping just how deep into shit I was at that stage, my phone started ringing. Lo and behold, it was non other than the only person in this company that I can have a laugh at and actually be genuine about it; Kenny motherfuckin' Drake. The dude was stoned, as per usual, with the smoke of weed almost emanating from the phone itself. Under the influence or not though, Kenny called to check up on my state a couple of days ago and went on to grace me with an Aristote-esque slice of advice; "You done fucked up with the title, man. But hey! At least Vin Diesel admitted to what we both are already aware of; you're the future." Upon breezing past the hiccups that continously heckled KD's sentence, I realized that he was speaking the truth. Yeah, maybe I lost the title; but I've only just begun. I've only had less than a year worth of experience within the doors of EAW, if anything the fact that I was champion for close to three months in that period of time is humbling in its own right. Yeah, maybe I fell short on stealing Pain for Pride 9 in its entirety by coming out of it a victor; but it was my first experience on the grand stage — certainly not the last — and I shared it with arguably its don in Starr Stan. Long conclusion shortly put, the benefits of my loss at PFP in the long run outweigh the hindrances and I wasn't going to allow the temporary bitterness of losing a match blind me from seeing that. I'm not going to oppress it anymore either; the amped-up frustrations need to be offloaded in order for me to continue my ascension. Fortunately for me, that was the essential reason for Kenny's call that day. He told me that him and I are sharing the battle lines against some assclown and a supposedly dead man walking at the Draft Show. Christian Locke and J.D Damon; boy, am I going to have some fun with both of you tomorrow night.

Since I'm on the topic of starting off fresh, let's talk about the greenest leaf of bunch first shall we? I had to admit Locke, you got quite the yapping pair of lips. You went through an entire sheet of names, dissecting each one of them, in one setting. I would say that I'm impressed and in any other given outline I would be but, nah. You're not lacking a stroke of your ridiculously disproportionate ego because you're doing a mighty fine job at it on your own. But who's to blame you, right? After all, you outlasted seventeen individuals to win the 24/7 contract. Congratulations, kid. Tremendous job, really. It takes a godly effort for one to surmount such an exquisite selection of top notch wrestlers like Terry Chambers, Beretta and a couple of whores who got turned down by Hooters because they smell; a match which at one point had a FUCKING GIRL come down to the FUCKING RING to FUCKING GET JIGGY WITH IT BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT THE FUCKING MATCH WAS A DANCE PARTY. By far, only a select lucky few get to relish what you're feeling right now Christian, all of whom — aside from you — have disappeared off the face of the planet and nobody remembers a single one of them. By all mean though, keep rubbing that piece of paper against your body as it deludes you into believing that you're at a god-like stature now. I mean no offense to whoever coined the concept for the Battle Royal, but when was the last time someone said "Jeesh, I can't wait for PFP! I desperately want to see who wins the 24/7 contract this year."? Let's be real, not a single soul willingly admits to that. I don't think half of the participants in the match even care about winning it, they're probably just there because they had no plans for that night.But, but I digress. Humor aside, the 24/7 contract that you possess is a golden ticket. How you went about retrieving it doesn't matter at this moment, because you're virtually guaranteed a match for ANY title of your choosing and that's big. Big for anyone in your shoes but even bigger for someone who's barely scratched the surface of the craft. I could crack jokes about the other saps involved in the match all day but you Locke, your case would prove tricky to tackle. You've done a stellar job climbing up the ranks in the company, albeit slowly, and that's only tipping one of many common points between us both. We also share the fact of facing Starr Stan, and being perceived as the underdogs that are just there to make the slightly watered down version of EAW's Elite look his best. We both also went on to shove those words right back the throats that they came from by giving Stan some of his best matches to date. However, regardless of the many similarities that we both owe each other, there's one meager difference that flushes it all down the drains. You're confident Locke, very confident. You believe that the world is yours and it is of your sheer mercy to let people exist in it, I believe so too. But unlike you, I also believe that there are boundaries to the notion, that going around in claims of owning the land and the feet that walk it would only serve deride and discredit my cause. You on the other hand have traced along those lines ever since your inception. You go around trying to impose the idea that depicts you as the truth bearer that everyone avoids but deep down craves, when all that spews out of your mouth is childlike banter of how valuable you view yourself to be and how people should to. It's not working, Locke; you're only further cementing the stereotype of newcomers who think they're the shit when they haven't accomplished shit. Granted, in your exceptional scenario, you have the contract but until you cash it in; you're literally just waving a piece of paper in our faces like a radical Christian on a Sunday morning. When or IF you win a title off of it, you'll earn yourself a clap from ya' boy. But that's then, this is now and the only thing you've earned for yourself is a good ol' beat down. 

Why? Not because you openly foretold me winning a world title in the near future, which will probably be the case. Hell, I'm flattered by that and everything tolerable to the ear that you've said in my name. It's just your cockiness, man. I don't know how to describe it; my face just clenches whenever yours oozes with that overconfident, dweeb in a football jersey trying to fake a life for attention kind of vibe. That probably makes sense if you let it sink in for a minute. Aside from having a punchable visage, you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time Christian. It's like I stressed earlier, I have a lot of sour grapes I need to get out of my system and our tag team match is the perfect restroom in sight for that. My boy Kenny and I already know how to establish the "beat" from your deadbeat of a partner Damon and when we're done shoving him out of the picture, which won't take long, we're gonna take our sweet time dismantling the new fish. No hard feelings, really. I like you as a person, you'll just need to be hospitalized for a couple of days after Saturday and preferably a facelift; if you don't want what's bound to transpire tomorrow happen again in the future. Take heed, Christian.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 7:36 pm by Aria Jaxon
NATURAL SELECTION -- ORLANDO, FLORIDA.

When it comes to the lineage of the Young Lions Cup, I think it’s been best to start from scratch. Or at least, disregard everyone who held the Cup before you, Lucas. Do you realize what an extraordinary thing you’ve been entrusted with? When it was handed to you (emphasis on handed), you had the opportunity to re-write history. You were given the chance to make your time holding the Cup so amazing that it could outshine anything that happened before. That gap in time before it was resurrected would mean nothing, because what you could do after the Cup’s absence was take it to never before seen levels of prominence. And you know what? You’ve done okay. You’ve turned back the challengers you’ve faced thus far. You’ve been upfront about just how much it means to you. Hell, you took it with you all the way to Pain for Pride. You’ve been tasked with taking the Cup’s legacy to a new level, and you’ve done just fine, Lucas.

But I could -- and will -- do better.

You’ve handled being the Young Lions Cup holder with as much seriousness and grace as anyone could’ve ever expected, and for that, you should pat yourself on the back. Don’t worry! It’ll be in even better hands after this weekend. You’re tryna use the Cup as a springboard. Just possessing it hasn’t been enough to catapult you to the level of relevance you wanna get to, but it’s been a hell of a start. No one can deny that. You look at me as a springboard, too. If, through some ridiculous act of God, you managed to beat me, well...your tenure as Young Lions Cup holder would be legitimized, wouldn’t it? No one would be worried about how you largely carried a team on your back at Pain for Pride, and they wouldn’t be trippin’ over the lack of substance possessed by the other two previous challengers. No, they’d be forced to stand up and take notice because finally Lucas Johnson would’ve punched his way to the bragging rights he wanted. Lucas Johnson would join a small and selective club of people who could actually say they’d one-upped the Empress of Elite. You needed me here, Lucas. I’m not just your opponent. I’m not just bound to be the person who conquers you, either. I’m the true test you haven’t had up to this point, and you know it. You’ve admitted that in more ways than one. A match against me is the test of your mettle that you’ve been seeking out so far. Getting to Pain for Pride might’ve been a shock to you, being entrusted with the Young Lions Cup might’ve blindsided you, but being on stages where I can prove just how good I am is never something that catches me off-guard. In both victory and defeat, all I’ve done since I’ve been in this company is show how bright the future of EAW truly is. Safe to say this match is being treated sort of as a marquee one just because of my presence. You’re welcome.

Blazing a new trail of YLC holders is your chance to do what I’ve been doing for months, Lucas. You can talk about our similarities all you want, and in many cases, it’d be hard for me to disagree with you. But when it comes to making history and simply being a footnote in history, well...you and I are on different sides with that one. Holding the Young Lions Cup is the first even remotely noteworthy thing you’ve done, and that’s why you hold onto it the way you do. You know if you do anything shy of notching the necessary wins and cashing it in for a championship, it could be a shortcoming you can’t come back from. You might not ever get a chance to ascend to the levels of the top-tier wrestlers you love to name-drop so much. I don’t have to recount my battles with EAW’s best and brightest to make myself sound like a more formidable challenger. You said you watched tape on me, right? Then you know. You know I’ve put men and women alike flat on their asses. You know I’ve beaten both ends of the spectrum -- legends and fresh-faced newcomers -- and everything in between. You know damn well I’ve beaten better and been beaten by better than you, and that’s why you’re sweating this the way you are. Man, the stakes alone would’ve been high enough, but to know you’ll be standing across the ring probably didn’t do anything to keep your anxiety levels from spiking. You said that, for the last week or so, every time you’ve stared at your reflection in the mirror, you’ve seen my face. And frankly, that didn’t come across sounding as intense or edgy or intimidating as you probably thought it would. It sounded kinda...sad. All I’ve done is say what I thought we true, Lucas. I didn’t have any interest in playing mind games with you, even though you’re convinced that’s what every Vixen does, regardless of the match. Seriously? I’ll admit, more than a few of the Vixens, myself included, are at least a teensy bit adept at psychological warfare, but the occasion didn’t call for it here, Lucas. Do you know why my friends’ words cut so deep at Pain for Pride, and why you used to your most unoriginal material in response? Because they knew what was at stake. It was the biggest show of the year, after all, and they were just acting accordingly. Maybe it’s just a byproduct of having been hardened by how fierce and competitive the Vixens division is. Maybe that’s why I’ve come across considerably more vicious than I intended, at least in your eyes. That’d explain the whole reflection thing. I’m in your head, and I didn’t even have to try. Go on, Lucas. Next time you see my face in the mirror, just go ahead and one-punch the glass. You can pick the shards of glass outta your fist, you can stitch up your hand, you can wipe up the blood, and the physical pain will subside. I know all about your pain threshold, Lucas. You ain’t gotta tell me about the physical trials and tribulations you faced with your surgery back in your Ohio State days. No pain, no gain, right? Physical pain -- whether we’re talking about compound fractures in an arm or glass shards in a fist -- it always passes. I have no doubt you’ll be quick to bounce back from whatever skin-deep, visible injuries you might very well pick up during our match. It’s the wounds you can’t see that you should be worried about. Me ripping the Young Lions Cup from your grasp is what’s really gonna hurt, and honestly, I’m not sure you’ll be able to cope with that.

You’re right, Lucas. You’d be the very unlikely winner. You’re the one at a disadvantage, which sounds sorta weird at first, considering you’re the one with the prize up for grabs. Then we remember who exactly it is that you’re dealing with, and it doesn’t sound so weird anymore. It sounds like you’ve called the situation exactly as it’s meant to be seen. You told the truth; you’re walking into this as the prey. I’m just higher on the food chain than you are, Lucas. This is just how shit is supposed to play out. Me beating you is just doing what’s expected of me. It’s survival of the fittest coming into play. Being the Young Lions Cup holder is just what I’m supposed to do. I’m in the spot I should be in, and that includes standing over you raising the Young Lions Cup high in the air. Some things you just can’t fight, Lucas. This is natural selection at work, and the prey never fares well in situations like that.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 7:14 pm by TLA
RESPETO

The camera cuts to TLA sitting down on a metal chair hands folded as he looks up at the camera with a straight expression on his face.

Iight I gotta admit somethin’ to y’all. This is a new one for me. Since I came to Showdown, hell since I came to EAW in general I ain’t never had an opponent like this. Usually my opponent turns out to be some arrogant blowhard like Mexican Samurai, or Rex McAllister, or Chris Elite. Someone who has their head so far up their ass that all the shit they say is just words. Sure they might be talented people, but you know that half the shit they say doesn’t have anything to do with that, and they are just posturing with their ego. They are just trying to make you doubt yourself, doubt your abilities, and mock and ridicule you because they can, and because they can’t admit to themselves that I am a formidable opponent who can hang with the best in the world. I excel at proving people like that wrong, and most of them I have proved wrong including the three I just named. I could name more, but I’m not here to be like them, I’m not here to brag. I’m here to acknowledge that I’ve fallen somewhat into a pattern. Since my opponents don’t really give a fuck about what they got to say, I really haven’t either. So I go out, I hype the match, I talk shit, cuz words are weapons, then I kick they ass. But this week… something is different, it just ain’t right. It ain’t right to not care, it ain’t right to talk shit.

I’ll be fully honest and admit that when I first saw the Pizza Boy sitting in a hospital bed, crying, and going on and on about his injuries, I figured it was some stupid prank. Some kind of joke, that considering your reputation, was always a possibility. I figured, sure you appeal to my sensitivities, but then the moment I show any kind of sympathy or respect, or basic human decency you would take advantage. Just like all the rest of the people I’d face you’d mock that as weakness and go out bragging about how with your superior intellect you outsmarted TLA. But at this point, I really don’t care. It’s still a possibility that you are faking it, that you are just playing some sort of sick game with me, but at this point you have advanced it so far that you will really just be making an ass out of yourself. So I’m going to trust you, and I’m gonna apologize for my insensitive comments, because I understand how serious a brain tumor can be, and I understand the hell you have been through.

So lo siento senor, and allow me to say that I really do respect you especially after the shit you have been through over the past few months. I respect you because in spite of that, you are a two time National Elite Champion, I respect you because you overcame the odds, and I damn sure respect that despite sitting in a hospital all week feeling like shit, despite any diagnosis the doctors gave you, that you fully intend to not only step into the ring against me, but you intend to win. That is the true definition of a champion right there, and it is exactly the kind of champion I hope to be. I will take on anyone, anytime, anywhere, which for the record includes you no matter how hurt you are when your music hits.

You want to know what I believe in? I believe in equality. I believe that no man’s worth should be held above another’s. I believe in hard work. I believe that hard work will always be rewarded, and that it is each person’s own personal responsibility to succeed. I believe in loyalty to a cause to those who have stood by you. To those who have gone out of their way to support you. However, I also believe in loyalty to yourself. To believe in what you believe not just because it is what your supporters tell you is right, but because it is what you believe to be right. That being said, I believe in freedom and independence, two of the founding principles of our great nation. Not only this nation, but many other great nations as well have been built on similar principles. No man should be a slave, and all men deserve the right to choose. I believe in honesty, I keep it real 24/7 and what you get from me is 100% TLA, and y’all can take that to the bank. But I also believe in admitting when you are wrong, or when you have changed your mind. Cuz it ain’t do no good to be stubborn. Resisting change just gonna hurt you in the long run, so you gotta be able to adapt. You gotta be able to look at your views in the mirror, even the ones you hold most dear, and ask yourself… do I really believe in this shit anymore? Cuz everything changes and you gotta keep up with the times, and as far as I’m concerned there ain’t no hypocrisy or betrayal involved as long as you admit the truth.

Y’all think you are a better role model, a better hero, than me and dawg you can have that. I ain’t never claimed to be a hero, ain’t gonna start now. If people wanna look up to me, that’s their choice, but I am proud of who I am, and I am proud of what I stand for. I have repped Showdown to the best of my abilities, and I have repped my fans by staying true to myself. Y’all say all I represent is having a good time and slacking off. I say y’all need to spend more time with me in the gym to see how hard I go. You don’t get to where I am, and you don’t stick around as long as I have in this business if you just fuckin’ around. Sure I like to have a good time, but who doesn’t? As far as I’m concerned, if fans turn on they TV and see me having a good time, maybe just maybe, some of that positivity will radiate through the TV screen and they can have a good time too. Maybe the fans who be comin’ out in droves to catch an EAW show will be able to share in the good time and if I’m part of that then I have done my job. 

So don’t think I don’t respect you Pizza Boy cuz out of the dozens of jackasses, egomaniacs, cult leaders, and crime families backstage you be one of the few people here who actually deserves my respect. So when I say it, you can believe it, or not. When I step into the ring against you on Battleground, you will see just how much I respect your talents. You will see exactly how seriously I am taking you when I drop yo ass with the Miami Destroyer and pop that tumor straight outta yo head! Cuz I been tryin’ to be respectful, and if y’all don’t believe me this time, ain’t nothin’ more I can do but take you out to the Poon Palace and get you in on that good time and make yo ass forget all about that nasty ass shit goin’ on in yo life. It ain’t harmin’ nothing’ and sitting around crying yo ass off just gonna leave you worse off. This some shit luck for you, but you still alive and it ain’t the end of the world. I been watchin’ the Pizza Boy for a long time, and as far as I can tell you like to have a good time just as much as I do, so don’t hate, don’t disrespect, and recognize that this week we got an opportunity. We got an opportunity to have a match without all the usual bullshit. You ain’t gotta worry about a crime syndicate, or some cheating ass motherfucker, or a gang jumpin’ yo ass after the match. It’s just gonna be TLA vs. The Pizza Boy to decide who is the better man, and the dominant champion on that night. Cuz you been through hell and back. Let me give you a welcome back present, and remind you exactly why we fell in love with this sport to begin with.

TLA gets up from the chair and walks out as the camera fades to black.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 4:49 pm by Christian Locke
(The screen shows two highlights. The first one is from the 2016 EAW Hall of Fame ceremony and it is Xavier Williams saying this, “Christian Locke; the man hasn't been here long, but I don't think there's one person in this company that he hasn't caught the attention of.” The other highlight airs on the screen, which occurred at Pain for Pride: “Christian Locke is handed the contract and attached trophy by Corporate HRDO, and Locke holds it up in the air as confetti rains down over him.” Christian is in his Toronto home, sitting at his usual spot at the head of the dining room table. He reaches down and grabs the 24/7 Contract and trophy. He stares at both objects momentarily as he thinks of what to say, his mouth opens.)

Because I'm Christian Locke. 

(Still staring at the contract, without one single blink, he looks up at the camera and resumes speaking.)

Since my huuuuuge victory at Pain for Pride 9, countless reporters have come up to me and ask, “How exactly did you outlast seventeen other competitors?” My answer is simple, it's because I’m Christian Locke. The week leading up to Pain for Pride, I made my intentions perfectly clear. I told my opponents, the EAW fans, and the entire fucking universe that I was going to become Mr. 24/7, one way or another and oh my, I did it! Yay me! Now, now, now — I could handle this win with class and give respect to the men and women I shared the ring with last Saturday night. You know, tell them to keep their heads up! To keep trucking along! Convince them that there’s light at the end of the tunnel! So yes, I could very well do that, but I choose not to. I won't do it because one of the last things I said last week was if I win this match, then god help you all because you’re never going to hear the end of it. I gave them all fair warning! You could've stopped this you know? ‘Cause you see I was clearly vocal this past week, by spreading the truth like wildfire and I managed to get under their skin with ease. With me flapping my gums, I obviously painted a giant red target on my chest, inviting the willing to hit a bullseye. Just daring them as I taunt! Now some would argue that's a terrible strategy. I should've been a snake in the grass instead. Go fly under the radar in stealth mode! Except they could've used that as an excuse! And then they would go on and on with the same boring ass routine as the sore losers before them and say my win’s a fluke. That's what always happens. Why? Why try to ruin someone’s hard fought victory? Why not just let them bask in their glory? You know why? It's because EAW is ego driven. By attempting to tear down another elitist’s imagine or career, it helps them sleep better at night; instead of their normal tossing and turning, wondering why they can't be as naturally gifted as a man like me. I don't know! It's a curse? Sure lets go with that. Now I'm not here to just talk about my victory. There are a few other objectives on the list to cross off, including Christian Locke himself, delivering on a promise. I must be a god damn fortune teller because I picked out lines from my opponents last week, saying I would use them in my victory speech and in response, they of course took the immature route and laughed at me, as if I'm some big jokester, but as Mr. DEDEDE would say, he who laughs last, laughs best, so here we go. 

Terry Chambers, one of the last men I personally eliminated said, and I quote, “Christian is an easy elimination.” What happened there, big man? It's almost as if I'm just straight up better than you! Weird right?!

Liam called me nothing more than a filler in that match. Bravo! You're wrong yet again. It's incredible how you keep one upping yourself when it comes to your blatant stupidity. 

Nobi said I was just another competitor in the match, acting like I'm not cut from a stronger material, whereas my opponents are cut from the same old dusty cloth. Your mistake. 

My own partner for this week, JD Damon said I don’t have what it takes to be crowned Mr. 24/7. So mean, man. I didn't tell you this last week, but that comment really got to me, you know? I'm going to wipe my tears with this contract, hold on. 

Also, before I move on I just want to point something out. Ready? Okay so, he's a 2011 EAW Hall of Famer, 2-Time World Heavyweight Champion, a Cash in the Vault Winner, he's even a former 24/7 Contract Holder! That's just one of many men that I personally tossed over the top ropes. But I'm not bragging about it or anything. 

(Christian grabs the contract and holds it in his arms like a baby.)

This little bundle of joy is not just a sheet of paper to me. It's s ticket. A golden fucking ticket and I'm not going to exchange it for a tour at Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. This guarantees me a future title shot, of my choosing. So what title do I have my eye on? One of the three world titles? Perhaps. Or I could go and end The Pizza Boy’s or TLA’s or JJ Silva’s reign in a snap of a finger. So yes that's also a possibility or you know what?  Fuck it, I could go take HBG’s Vixen’s Championship and put it around my waist because it's 2016, where equality is often preached until our ears bleed. The reality is I haven't made my decision yet. I want to make the champions sweat a bit first, you know? So when will I know the timing is right? Simple, when I see a Christian Locke logo out in the night sky, then I'll know it's time to strike. This brings me to the EAW Draft, this Saturday night, hosted by Battleground! It's rather funny because I've been asked which brand do I prefer to be on? Do I want to stay in my comfort zone that is Voltage, or do I embark on a new journey and go to Dynasty or Showdown? Personally I don't really care either way. Just know that whichever brand gets me, they’ll hit the lottery. They get a man that will one day hold a world championship. You'll get a man that can cause a spike in the ratings. You get a guy that you can build your brand around. Most of all, you'll get a guy that's Christian fucking Locke. What else needs to be said? Now let's talk about this little tag match. We got two friends on one side, Kenny Drake and Carson Ramsay. The two have gone on a movie date before and today they went to go get coffee. Not going to lie, I'm feeling kind of left out. Why was I never invited? Is it because you two don't know what it feels like to win at Pain for Pride and I do? I guess that would've been kind of awkward if I was there, just gloating about my inspirational victory and stuff, while your tears fill your cups. So good call on that rain check. Now Kenny, nobody thinks you are a joke. In fact you were the odds on favorite to win the 24/7 battle royal — that is until the week prior to PFP, it was announced that I too would be a participant and let's be honest, it was game over. The fat lady had already sung. It was a wrap! But, you had a good showing. Think about it, it took a Hall of Famer to eliminate you. So no reason to feel disappointed. That's all in the past anyways! This is about the EAW Draft! And now we meet face to face for a second week in a row. That’s right, I step foot in the wolves den as you call it, once more. Being fed to hungry wolves is never a fun or easy task, but time and time again, I come back leader of the whole pack. But what I don't get is why are you so salty? Didn't you say something along the lines of how you don't need this contract anyways, but I do? Sure, I'm a sore winner, I admit that, but do you always act like a little child when things don't go your way? Go stomp on the ground some more and fold your arms as you stick your lip out and stare off into the distance. I won, you lost. I'm going to win a title in the near future, you won't. That's the way the cookie crumbles. But sure, you can be called the future of EAW, if you want. It just means that time still has to pass before you reach your low ceiling potential, that's all. While you do that, I'll be working on becoming the PRESENT of EAW. That goes for both definitions of the word by the way, since I am also a gift that keeps on giving! So Kenny, I have one question for you, before I move onto your friend and that is what are we going to see from you that we haven't already witnessed this Saturday? That's what you said right? Because this match alone is redundant in a way, since yet again Kenny Drake and JD Damon are in a match together! It never gets old! It's something new and exciting! It's fresh — like moldy bread.

Then there is Carson Ramsay. What happened to you man? How could you lose to that patriotic has been, huh? How could you let an old senile man pin you in the middle of the ring, with hundreds of millions people watching around the world? Because Starr has clearly lost a step or two or thirty, like what the fuck man? Now I know you are not a threat moving forward. You're all hype, bro! All hype! Those words I just uttered? Are words that I was forced to listen to. Last week all of my opponents, especially Terry Chambers, went on and on about how that one clean loss defined my career. I've been in your shoes, or I suppose boots being more accurate, before. I too lost to Starr Stan. Before you, I was the only man he beat on his little farewell tour and that fact ate away at me. I'm not saying your loss makes me feel better because quite frankly, it doesn't. It still gets to me because that is still my only legitimate loss I've suffered since I've been in EAW. I guess I'm a bit of a perfectionist in that sense. I suppose what I'm trying to get at is they don't understand. His whole farewell tour was a trip down memory lane. He faced his friends. Guys like Diamond Cage, Brian Daniels and Cyclone. He also fought Eris LeCava. While he was battling them, he was having a good time, with past memories flashing in front of his very eyes from time to time. But you and I? We were different. We aren't his allies, we have no ties to him. When he saw us, his blood boiled, for different reasons. For instance, he couldn't accept the fact that some newcomer named Christian Locke beat him in a Grand Rampage qualifier. From there, people labeled Starr as the victim, even though he cost me my match the following week. He was the first one to fire the shot, not the other way around! I wanted to move on, while he clearly didn't, which goes back to my comment when I stated that EAW is ego driven. From there, our brief feud was over once Triple Threat concluded. It's kind of like how he came out of the woodwork to question the authenticity of your Pure title reign. He always gets involved, doesn't he? Fast forward to Pain for Pride, you gave it your all man. You dug down deep, you used every weapon and secret from your arsenal and it still wasn't enough. Many fans were moved by your performance, acting like you didn't have the potential to become the next big thing, prior to the match — but I've known it since the day I got here. My nickname is The Truth, although today I prefer to go by Mr. 24/7, I’m even thinking about changing my legal name to that, but as I was saying, since the day I got here, yes you hear about the legends of this business. The likes of Mr. DEDEDE, Y2Impact and so on. But truth be told, two men really captured my eye from the get go. Those two being The Mexican Samurai, or should I say Alex Wilder and you, Carson Ramsay. Two future world champions in my eyes. So in a way, I respect you Carson. I admire your work thus far and am genuinely interested to see where you go from here. What? Judging by my reputation, you were probably expecting me to go on an insult frenzy for ten minutes straight, right? Nope, real recognizes real. Plus you have yet to do or say anything that would set me off. Although there is still plenty of time for that. Plus it helps that this match isn't make or break for me. I've just been in a good mood for the past six days, what can I say? So with that said, this is in fact a tag match, a type of match that I've never been a big fan of because often times, you have to rely on your partner for a bit and JD Damon and I aren't exactly on the best of terms, for obvious reasons. We don't go see movies together. We don't go on coffee runs. We have never bonded over a single thing and we probably never will. So on paper, you two are probably seen as the favorites to win this match — kind of like Pain for Pride all over again, huh? Good times. 

(Christian whistles to a random tune and grabs the contract and trophy and makes his exit from the room, holding both objects above his head with his back turned. Scene fades to black.)
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 4:03 pm by ThePizzaBoy
The camera opens on PB bowing his head in the hospital breezeway, looking fairly morose as he raises up and straightens his posture.  He looks upward toward the sky, letting the sunlight hit his tear stained and dirty cheeks.

"Pardon my current predisposition heading into our match TLA. I've gotten some...well, not good...and not bad...I guess the word that best suits it is the word assigned to it: benign.  I've gotten some benign news, which isn't benign at all when you think about the definition of benign.  Yeah, it's not cancer but it's still a brain tumor.  Brain tumors can still affect you negatively.  It's the reason my skull feels like an infected blister about to pop at every hour of the day and night.  That and the thing that caused it, which is the constant head trauma brought on by this full contact sport of ours.

  I fully recognize that Cerberus did more than carry their weight in our Pain for Pride match, but I'm not talking about that.  I'm talking about before that when DEDEDE and Ryan Savage abducted me for their team against HexaGun in the elimination match against the faction that left me facing down the whole cadre by myself in the end.  I was the only one to eliminate someone.  I was the only one standing for my team at the end.  I'm the only one who made a difference.  I'm also talking about when Drake and Jones 'retired' HBB, when I called them out for a two on one encounter. I'm counting every time Judas and those two ambushed me, leaving me to fight for my life against the odds before one, two, or all of their Omerta thugs interfered on the other's behalf.  And yeah, even when it came down to Pain For Pride, it was about gold with Cerberus, that was their only true vendetta.  As for me? All three men vowed to make me the old defenseless tap dancing monkey I was before HBB took me under his wing.  It may sound arrogant or dismissive, but Drake, Jones, and Judas may have been build to fight me, Brian, and Cyclone, but if they walked away empty handed knowing that I wasn't going to be able to walk at all they would have felt vindicated."

PB glares into the camera with disgust.

  "But hey, so what if I'm being self-centered and paranoid.  We all have flaws, don't we TLA? We all try to make it about us, try and justify our actions to the ones who believed in us when we know full well there aren't enough words to excuse our...how should I say this? Violations? Maybe we let people down around us blindly because we think that our actions don't matter to them, don't effect them, don't concern them, but they do.  Every little boy and girl at home watching me say that I've gone it alone since Heartbreak Boy exited this company believe me.  If I go back on that word or I'm proven to be a hypocrite, then that makes me a violator of their trust.  I've put myself in a position as a public figure to be a role model, a super hero to these kids who don't have anyone in their lives to look up to.  You are too.  The things we say and do aren't benign.  They spread like cancer over our careers, they take over our title reigns, and they make every single thing we do a do or die situation.  I plan on going into Battleground to beat you and show the world that I am the better representative for this company, for this Nation, for this division.  I stand by that word, because I will give you everything I have to take you down and prove that my credo, my gospel, my word isn't something I take in vain.  I've always believed in working hard and not taking shortcuts or expecting handouts.  It's as true today as it was when I was flipping dough for a living.  What do you believe in TLA?"

PB sneers, nearly spitting out of the side of his mouth as he tries to talk through clinched teeth.

   "A good time? slacking off? being the grasshopper to my ant and still somehow making it through this cold industry of ours without busting your ass to prepare for what's next?  I really want to walk into this match without a halo over my head and a crucifix on your back but you don't respect me.  You say you do, but your actions speak volumes that drown out and contradict your silver tongue.  Yeah, you might be a good guy.  You might tussle my hair and give me an 'atta boy in passing, but isn't it all just passive aggressive bullshit to proclaim superiority over me?"

PB peers out over the city thoughtfully.

   "Whatever it is, it certainly does far too much  damage to my opinion of you to be something benign.  I'll see you at Battleground, TLA.  Until then, I'll be training my ass off and passing ImPACTt tests that I shouldn't be able to in my current state.  You just keep having a good time at my expense.  See where it gets you this time..."

PB tips an invisible cap to the camera and heads back inside as the camera cuts to black.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 1:16 pm by Lucas Johnson
EAW Draft Promo #4 - The Lion Takes Down The Empress

Mexican Samurai on Battleground...StarrStan on Voltage....Dark Demon, Y2Impact, Carlos Russo. The list goes on and on of the people I started out on the rocky road adventure that is the land of the elite when I first arrived here At first i knew it was the inexperience in the sport, I've been only training at that time in developmental for only two months tops. After those two months I was brought in as the hottest free agent that this business has signed in a very long time and put me against then the current Interwire Champion, Mexican Samurai in a non-title match on Battleground. The expectations were very high for the NCAA Division I Heavyweight Champion from Atlanta and had an outstanding record at Ohio State. In my final days wrestling at Ohio State I suffered a very serious arm injury that needed surgery and was forced to vacate the championship and was going to be on the shelf for multiple months. A week later back in Atlanta I went into surgery and got everything fixed up, couple of weeks later while in physical therapy I get a call from one of the top recruiting executives here at Elite Answers Wrestling and they want me to come into the headquarters and sign me to a developmental contract. I was a hundred percent interested in signing here, this is where I always wanted to be in life, I wanted to be at the top company fighting with the best talent in the world today and I had a chance to do that. The company knew about my injury and they told me they have one of the best medical staff in the country and will get me to a hundred and ten percent within two months when the normal shelf time is six. I questioned it at first but I went with the ball and was going to see where It took me and every single day I was shocked on how good the results were. After the second month to the day I was cleared by the doctors could finally train for real inside the squared circle to get ready for my debut, after a couple of weeks everything was good to go and I was ready to be sent off on my on. I was ready to conquer the world, I was ready to take on all comers but just like that everything fell flat on my face and started on that rocky road. Even though the win column was looking good at first the executives still saw something in me that knew it was good not only for myself but for them long term and gave me a chance in my family's home town in the Open Fight Gauntlet in New York City, I was feeling the energy that night I knew something special was about to happen but then that all got washed away when Hamau Koa costed me the match. That night will go down as one of the darkest nights in my career that can never be put to rest but I promised myself that I will not stop until I get my redemption and capture the one thing I want and that is the New Breed Championship. The last couple of months have been building up this big underdog or comeback story in my career even though I have only been here less than a year but that story was put on hold when I was defeated by The Vixens Division, the night was just a ball of emotions put into one and just crashed on-top of my head and I am still getting over it to this day, Pain for Pride should be one of the best nights in our business but last weekend just wasn't my night. 

This whole week just has been a reflection on my career so far and everything I compare it to I just see the similarities between myself and you Aria Jaxon. Every time I look at myself in the mirror this week I just see your face in the reflection, I try to punch the wall to see if it will go away but it won't. I don't know if my mind is just reading this as a similar happenings between you or myself or just that I know that this match on Saturday night will either make or break my career. The million dollar question you want to know right now is "How is Lucas Johnson going to beat Aria Jaxon?" A wise man once said Aria, "to be the man you have to beat the man" and that is exactly I am going to do to you this coming Saturday night on the final edition of Battleground. I don't want to dislike you either Aria, I think you are no doubt of the best young talents the company has to offer right now and want to consider you a friend but you made this personal by making the joke about comparing me to a poor man's StarrStan. You made it personal from their and decided to shrug it off like nothing happened so you decide to play the bad guy in this story when I make a simple joke about you and Aren's relationship? This is my time to shine Aria, this is my time to get rid of the black cloud above me and turn this storm into a golden age when I am three wins away from earning the one thing I desperately want and need which is the New Breed Championship. You claim that I had the clear shot to take at Dillion and Tarah at Pain for Pride and also you this week and I take the easy way out and just call you guys sluts? Do you know why I did that? I did that because you girls were the one's that wanted to play the mind games, all of this in the Vixens division is just games to you guys, so you wanted to play games? I will play games but you better be ready to play hard ball this Saturday night because I am not afraid to shed blood, I am not afraid to go to the extreme, I am not afraid to take my frustrations out on you Aria. I consider you a friend Ms. Jaxon but I will be the writer of my own story, you will NOT end my reign as the holder of the Young Lions Cup, you try to keep it professional now but trust me when that bell rings on Saturday it is anybody's game. For the first time the lion walks in as the prey instead of the predator but I am ready to take down the Empress of the Elite....
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 9:07 am by TLA
EMPEZAMOS LA FIESTA

The camera cuts to the gym where TLA is shown pumping iron. TLA takes a break to take a sip of that fresh Florida water as he looks up towards the camera.

TLA: Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about holmes. I knew you had some fight left in ya! I knew that y’all would come at me. Cuz this ain’t no time for tears. This be a time for celebration! Y’all may be a broken man but you is the TWO TIME TWO TIME EAW National Elite Champion! And yo boi is the TWO TIME TWO TIME EAW Interwire Champion! Moments like this don’t come along everyday so we gotta enjoy them while they last ese. We gotta put shit in perspective and realize yo shit could be so much worse. You say this a war not a party? I say what better reason than war between two of EAW’s finest to throw a fiesta amigo. I say imma party all night until we go to war and fuck each other up. Then we gonna party again afterwards cuz that’s how we do. Yo I ain’t got no beef with you, but if you want me to show up at yo hospital with flowers or some shit I don’t roll that way. After the draft tho win or lose you gonna come out with yo boi to the Poon Palace, we gonna hit up the club for real. Cuz we champions. We livin’ that good life and we gotta represent ours.

TLA throws up a Sureno gang sign, though in this case it represents for Showdown.

TLA: Y’all said you stand for the fans, and for yo crew back in the Dynasty locker room, and I’m just goin’ out to do the same. Cuz this might be our last chance to do so. We might be swappin’ out them colors after that night. Shit depending on how the night goes, we might even be walking into this match reppin’ somethin’ different. That’s why I gotta show the Showdown fans how much they mean, how much of an impact they have made on my career, and my life this past six months. Imma talk that crowd into they seat cuz somebody gotta. Y’all just gonna make them depressed. You gotta pull yo ass up out that hospital bed, cuz if you ain’t prepared to compete, you damn sure shouldn’t be gettin’ into the ring with TLA.

Cuz I hurts people.

TLA: I ain’t really down for beatin’ on a cripple so you best be able to do more than stand up. You better be ready for the fight of yo life, cuz if you thought the struggle y’all been through at Pain for Pride was bad. You ain’t never been in the ring with me! Lil white boi wanna talk about the struggle against the odds. He wanna talk about how he road been so much more difficult than mine. I got mad respect for you weyito but when you start takin’ shots I ain’t got no choice but to respond. I ain’t gonna let you try to talk down what I’ve accomplished cuz from where I sit ain’t shit that much different. Cuz we both two time champions, we both took back our titles from the same man who took them from us in the first place. Y’all wanna talk about going to war against this and that.

Yo check my rep homie… my whole life been a war.

TLA: I been to war with Zack Crash when he runnin’ the whole damn company. I took his ass down but I ain’t done it alone and I recognize that. You gotta recognize that too cuz you may have climbed a ladder and pulled down them titles for yo team. But don’t forget… you did that as a team. Y’all did that three on three so don’t act like the odds were against you. Don’t act like you bein’ oppressed bein’ put up in them matches dawg cuz you had yo whole crew with you helpin’ you out all along the way. But still yo ass wanna take shots and act like I ain’t shit, come at me like I ain’t a threat to you even when you sittin’ in a hospital bed lookin’ like you can’t even get up, and I start to get offended.

Cuz I been takin’ you seriously all this time holmes, why ain’t you do me?

TLA: I been showin’ you the respect you due after the wars you been through. I be givin’ the match between us the hype it deserves. TLA vs. The Pizza Boy. The draft might be the main attraction, but we gonna steal the show. This is a match that could’ve been on Pain for Pride if we had these titles a couple weeks ago. Yo I gotta be honest holmes, I ain’t down with none of this depressing shit, this ain’t you dawg, so praise Allah y’all finally gonna man up and come at me. We started this party holmes and we gonna keep on keepin' on. You gonna get yo Pizza Party, you gonna get yo fight on yo terms cuz for real that’s all I ever wanted. I just wanna take on the best in this business each and every week I go out there. I give it my all, and y’all can act like you more accomplished, I ain’t gonna argue too much more. Cuz now I got somethin’ to prove. Y’all givin’ me a goal and imma go for it. Imma just go out and prove what happens when y’all put TLA as the underdog. When y’all prop yo self up on a pedestal. When you don’t take TLA seriously, you gonna find out just how seriously you should’ve. One on one ain’t nobody beaten me cleanly in 2016. Will yo ass be the first?

Or will you be sittin’ back in that hospital once again beaten and broken so bad you got no choice but to give up and change yo name to some gay ass shit like Alex Wilder.

TLA shudders as he turns around as he lays back down on the bench and gets back to that grind.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 8:48 am by Y2Impact
With the proper accoutrements, even a liar can look like a prophet.

With a championship, a steadfast and outspoken refusal to waver, a notion in mind that nobody can reclaim, rebuild, or get redemption, you win a match and suddenly all of your worries vanish in the next breeze that blows past you. And it’s easy to view reality through that lens because of its convenience, because when the dust settled, one man ended up exactly as he promised he would — vindicated — while three others were left trying to reconcile their defeats and the fact something seemingly so close slipped through their grasp in one solitary instant where time felt frozen still. 

But that’s just the thing — time doesn’t stand still. Time is an uncontrollable constant. It doesn’t stop for me, and it certainly isn’t going to stop for you. But that’s the beauty of time, the fact that I can waltz on out the next week after a crushing, demoralizing Pain for Pride loss and re-stack the blocks that were cracked down. I don’t have to wallow in my suffering. I don’t have to reflect on my suffering; I can just as easily choose to forget a disastrous outing as I can choose to remember one.

But time, I’m afraid, can only mend temporary wounds; this is permanent.

This is a deep scar I can’t just put some ice on and approach as if I have amnesia. It’s one that pierces every square inch of my body. As if I were trekking through a desert that felt endless and in my journey finally saw the oasis I thought would liberate me from my struggling, yet I’d awoke to find myself buried in the same sun-scorched heat I’d left off in — quickly coming to the realization that my nirvana was merely a mirage.

That’s what Pain for Pride 9 felt like. The euphoria I felt when I expected myself to once again be victorious at the grand stage, and the suffering I felt when I discovered all that adrenaline rushing through my veins as I walked down the ramp in front of a crazed capacity crowd was just a prelude to the ultimate disappointment. “How can I possibly recover from this?” I thought to myself as the bell rang and another man’s name was called out as the Answers World Champion. “This is my night,” I believed with the certainty of a psychic. But it wasn’t my night, and after a long night of drinking my scars away and lamenting my Miami meltdown, it hit me in the worst kind of way — I’m not the Answers World Champion. I’m not the Quintessential Champion. I had the perfect opportunity to silence the critics forever, but instead of walking out as the newly crowned champion swimming through a sea of envious spectators, I walked away with my blood in the water. Forget the Grand Rampage win, the thirty-nine dreamers I quashed, the gusto, the glory, the pageantry, the statistics — I lost. No more could I claim to “win forever” — “forever” couldn’t even amount to one night — and at that point it dawned on me that on top of everything else I couldn’t call myself anymore, one look in the mirror confirmed my fears: I can’t even be Y2Impact. 

All I can be is The Machine.

It occurred to me that I didn’t walk away from Pain for Pride 9 empty-handed because I’d forgotten what it means to be Y2Impact; instead, it was because I constantly reminded myself what he was. An insecure man clinging to his humanity trying so desperately to ensnare one last moment in the sun — and it proved fleeting. It wasn’t because I’d become The Machine; it was because I didn’t fully commit to being The Machine. When it struck me that I’d lost everything I’d been striving for, I thought, is this what The Machine would do? Is this how The Machine would react? Nah, the man who entertained thousands of fans in New Miami Stadium most definitely wasn’t The Machine — it was just Y2Impact. The Machine could have taken down Ares Vendetta, Tyler Parker, and Devan Dubian in a three-on-one handicap match. After all, I had no problem mercilessly disposing of the thirty-nine people who all vied to get the spot my inferior other half squandered. Y2Impact couldn’t even keep his grip on the reins of Voltage before everything fell apart at the seams. But The Machine? He can succeed where Y2Impact failed. He can dominate the lawless land, he can overcome his competition regardless of any odds, he can rally the troops to a decisive victory, he can beat Cyclone, and most importantly, what proved elusive for Y2Impact is within a metallic, wiry arm’s reach for The Machine: 7 reigns. That’s who you’re talking to now, Cyclone. You talk about neglecting your body and sacrificing your flesh just to avoid the pain of defeat, but your body is frail — meant to be broken. Your limbs, your shoulders, they may be strong enough to proudly wear your half of the Tag Team Championships down to the ring with you — but they’re not strong enough to outdo The Machine. As with all the greats of our industry, you hate to lose more than you love to win, and that’s exactly why it’s so unfortunate after such a momentous victory for you… To be caught in my crosshairs. In escaping everyone else, you’ve finally crawled out of that underdog shadow that followed you around everywhere. How does it feel, finally being your own man? How does it feel, finally shedding the labels? How does it feel, detaching yourself from the stigma? Damn good, I imagine. As good as it feels to repress my humanity and bury it in a place deep inside, I wonder? You’ve been carrying around that sword against your will for ages, you’ve selflessly fallen on it for the sake of men and women that don’t deserve your kindness, and now you feel liberated — freed from your career-long imprisonment. Now you see the outside world, you hear the birds chirping in the morning and you relish your newfound independence, but one thing a man stuck in solitude for so long couldn’t possibly account for is the dangers of your new environment — the threats lurking in the shadows. How ironic that just as you awake from one nightmare, another just waits around the corner smelling blood in the water and anticipating your next false step — and maybe your last. Suddenly, the innocent prisoner who finally escaped from the shackles and is just learning to appreciate the fresh air he’s now breathing takes a leap too far and suffocates on his own overconfidence. It’s a story spanning as long as time itself, and you, free bird, better revel in the short time you have to chirp before The Machine comes to clip the wings you’ve so valiantly worked to attain. Suddenly, you start reflecting and those shackles seem a little more comfortable. That prison seems a little cozier. That tiny little room that once made you feel so claustrophobic now feels like a mansion. And finally, you understand what everyone sooner or later learns — “freedom” isn’t so free, underdog.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 8th 2016, 1:03 am by Aria Jaxon
FRIENDLY ADVICE -- ORLANDO, FLORIDA.

I appreciate your honesty, Lucas. You’re not really walking into this blind, and you know what? I’m gonna applaud you, for realizing this to be the precarious situation that it is. It could’ve been easy for someone in your position to try and wave me off with a hand, insisting that I was nothing more than just another in a long line of unworthy challengers. I can tell you’ve grasped the gravity of what exactly is awaiting you on the last episode of Battleground. During the time you’ve held it, the Young Lions Cup has never been in this much jeopardy before. Let’s face it. When it came to the scrubs you faced before, your name was already penciled in as the winner in those matches, but if anything, you still owe them a debt. They might’ve been walks in the park, but you should thank them for being your warm-ups. Your glorified punching bags. Still, Nobi and Luke Reign didn’t exactly put you through your paces. You can give a PC response, if you’d like, and take the good guy route by slipping in some cliche line about how they fought hard, and you were just the one who prevailed in the end...but come on. You know what I know, Lucas. Not only am I the challenge that’s been denied to you during your tenure as Young Lions Cup holder, I was always gonna be the one to take it from you. That’s how I see it. I didn’t initially have the foresight to focus on that when I lost last weekend, but I’ve snapped out of it. That’s unfortunate for you. Dejected, post-title loss Aria Jaxon still more than likely would’ve been able to cut Lucas Johnson off at the knees, but you actually stood a chance in hell against her. That’s not who you’re getting. There is no pessimism, and my vision isn’t clouded. I’m staring straight ahead to our match, to the beginning of my time as the Young Lions Cup holder. That’s exactly what this match is for me: an inevitable win. I was meant to get here. I was meant to make history all over again. There’s no coincidence involved here. Just me, you, a shiny trophy, and all the heartache you’re bound to be feeling when it’s all said and done.

I really don’t wanna dislike you, Lucas. You seem likable enough, and you’re easy to root for. For a while, in everything we said to each other, you still never lost that...I dunno what it is. That All-American boy next door aesthetic, or whatever. With that being the case, I’m about to offer you some friendly advice -- watch your tongue, and make sure every word that comes outta your mouth is YLC-centric. Keep this professional. Keep this about wrestling, and don’t give me a reason to dislike you. Don’t give me any reason to wanna enjoy knocking you off your pedestal in front of God and everyone in Orlando. Keep Aren’s name outta your fucking mouth. Don’t try dredging up anything that doesn’t have shit to do with this match. What, did you wanna make your moronic little shpiel a little more heavy and star-studded by name-dropping the EAW Champion? Now that I think about it...I shouldn’t be shocked. This is the same motherfucker who lobbed basic ass insults at the entire Specialists team during Pain for Pride week. This is so typical of you! Tarah and Cailin had you running scared and you knew your fucked up team was gonna get picked apart, so you called them sluts unjustly and poked fun at their love lives. Ooh, this looks familiar. You’re down in the trenches with me for all of a day or two and already, I got you backpedaling. This is how I know you ain’t got shit of value to say, when you stop focusing on how your time as Young Lions Cup holder is coming to a close, and you start focusing on other aspects of my life. Did you run outta material that fast, Lucas? Did I send you running for cover already? This is your chance to hit me with cold hard facts and at least try to knock me on my ass, but instead you’re veering into left field. I don’t blame you. If I were you, I’d be dreading facing me, too. I’d be scrambling for the right words to say, tryna speak all kinds of nonsense into existence and foolishly clinging to the hope that I could actually pull off some kinda heist and topple someone as good as Aria fucking Jaxon. You can charge full-steam ahead and take on this challenge as willingly as you want, but it won’t change anything. It won’t change the fact that you’re horribly ill-prepared for what it’ll mean to face someone like me. It won’t change the fact that I already know doubt has crept into your feeble little mind, and every lispy word that comes outta your mouth is nothing more than a thinly-veiled attempt at tryna get me to buy into your reality. In your version of events, you prevail. It’s not realistic. One-hit wonders like you don’t have the substance to derail the entire careers of future Hall of Famers like me. This is a mismatch, Lucas, and I don't believe anyone who says different. I didn’t wanna believe it. I just wanted to treat this like a match. I wanted it to be a strictly business kinda thing; get in, get the Cup, and get out. It didn’t need to be any deeper than that. I decided to tread water and you dove down to the depths to open your mouth and try to bring my boyfriend into this. It’s like you want to give me ammunition. Don’t make a mistake, okay? Actually, run that back...don’t make another mistake. Your first mistake was not turning this match down when you had the chance. You’ve already agreed to walk into a match you can’t win, but don’t do something else equally as stupid. I’m telling you -- for your sake, not for mine -- don’t give me any underlying motivation to kick your jaw into the nosebleed section. You know where the lines and boundaries are. You know what subjects you should be delving into, and which ones you shouldn’t. It’s not rocket science. You can tease crossing the line all you like, but don’t actually do it. Keep this about the Cup, Lucas. By agreeing to this match, you already gave me the green light to end your tenure as the Cup holder and begin mine. I have the go ahead to take everything from you! I’m standing on the threshold of taking the only thing of value you’ll ever attain in your EAW career. Don’t give me a license to do anything worse than that.

The question you posed is, how does Lucas Johnson beat Aria Jaxon?

He doesn’t.

There’s no realistic version of events where he does.

That honesty I applauded you for? It began and ended with you giving me my just due. Yes, you were smart to do that. And yes, I might be the single greatest obstacle that EAW’s ever placed in front of you, but you’re not about to take that and try to turn this into something where you somehow overcome the odds and walk away victorious here. If you were truly as realistic and as honest as I’d initially believed you were, then you’d have already resigned yourself to defeat. Oh, but you’d never do that, would you? No, because Lucas Johnson never quits. And unfortunately for you, neither do I. If your resolve is cranked up to a ten, mine’s at eleven. If you’re great on Saturday night, I’ll still be even better, and that is the reality of all of this. You can study all the film in the world, and nothing will compare to the real thing. Facing me isn’t something you’ll be able to completely prepare yourself for by watching a bunch of my matches on a loop, but fine, you go on believing that. You’re tryna use my matches -- my wins and my losses, my triumphs and my downfalls -- against me, and you think dissecting them will somehow help you conjure up a win that you so badly need. You can put your faith in whatever you think you need to. You can latch onto whatever you think you should, if it’ll make you feel better about your chances against me. Just don’t be too shocked when I bulldoze through it all and take the Young Lions Cup.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 11:07 pm by The Consigliere
Oh, snap! I just became the history-making, death-defying, ever-surviving, forever-conquering four-time Vixens Champion, and Tarah Nova still pulls from out of her guts, from what little courage she has, the audacity to tell me that I couldn't get the job done at Pain for Pride! I have completely overshadowed whatever moment she could get from winning the divide and conquer match, as she pities herself for being slapped in a match with the rookie wrestlers, because showing her bravery by defending the Specialist Championship without the added effects and ridiculous stipulations, really is something nobody wants to see. And instead of genuinely congratulating me for becoming the well-deserved Vixens Champion and asking for tips like the fucking incompetent human garbage disposal that she is, she chooses to discredit me further, and tell the world how I'm not really close to being a Champion in her eyes as if anybody would hear out that downright stupid opinion to begin with without the need to laugh their hearts out at this utter foolishness. Because all Tarah Nova can do right now is sit in the corner of her room and convince everyone that she is more than just an insecure piece of shit who will probably never amount to anything more than standing in the sidelines and falling second place to superior wrestlers like myself, for the reason that she brings just about equal amount of entertainment value as JJ fucking Silva. So what does she do? She makes assumptions so she doesn't lose her mind thinking what it would take to get her confidence back, when every fucking soul that looks at every facial expression, every shrug, every eye roll can tell that anybody can play mind games with her fragile ego, and prove her wrong any day of the fucking week without breaking a sweat. That's how brittle her legacy is to her own audience's eyes. That is exactly what she has amounted to. From the top of the world defending the Vixens Champinship in a respectable manner against nine other opponents to a year later when she's pitted against random people that her likes happened to piss off for the mere fact that she exists. So now what, Tarah Nova? Are you seriously going to act like a complete bad girl right now? The typical rebellious Tarah Nova out there to prove how tough and independent she is, and that she would lay down for no one, but falls flat on her face the very second someone lands a fucking punch? Are you making it seem like you're this big and bad werewolf who would maul the entire village and those who refuse to submit to him despite having the fierceness of a damn poodle? Give me a fucking break, Tarah Nova. Every word coming out of your disgusting mouth just makes you look like a laughingstock as you aimlessly point fingers to the things I have done wrong, yet you refuse to listen to your own words to see the downpour of flaws in your own logic. Do you realize what I have just done, Tarah? I defeated Aria Jaxon, a person who had just won against me at Triple Threat. I swore that would be the last victory she ever had on me, and as a woman of her word, anyone with a fucking brain could see that I live up to my threats, and a feeble-minded albino bitch like you simply cannot comprehend that I just fucking killed the hype of a person people loved to believe in considering all you have done in your time as "The Killer of the Vixens Division" is bully the likes of Haruna Sakazaki and Madison Kaline only to have her ass get handed to her by the same people in her Championship matches, in the most humiliating way possible. So should I really be concerned about your thoughts on me, Tarah? Should I really take to heart these ideas that you intend to plant in everyone's heads that Aria Jaxon is "better than me" despite all the evidence that the entire world saw for themselves proving otherwise? Should I really be watching my back because Tarah Nova, no sarcasm at all, had me figured out and she predicts that I would lose this Championship faster than Aria Jaxon lost hers? Oh, fucking shit, all you’ve done is create messes you can’t clean up. All you have done is give your opinion that is in no way been backed up by actual facts to make me even doubt myself and rethink the decisions I have made. All you have done throughout this verbal vomit that you're spewing is give your two cents on these matters when nobody asked for it, because that pretty much sums up your existence in this industry -- a crazed bitch who calls herself a freak to appeal to your god-awful fans, when in reality nobody really cares about her or anything that she does! You could die tomorrow and people won't miss you. You could threaten to drink fucking bleach and show off your new set of knives on twitter that you'll use to cut yourself with, and I bet half your followers would be encouraging you to go ahead. Because that's how little you mean to the world, and that's how little you mean to me. So I'm not a Vixen in your eyes? I cry every time. Fuck, who the hell would dream of becoming an insignificant little cunt like yourself? You are not a better Champion and there's not a damn era where you rule in. I have said this before, and I will keep saying it until you fully understand what it means when dealing with the Heart Break Gal... Tarah Nova, you are just a freak waiting to die. 

You've made the mistake of attempting to bully probably the biggest bully in this company. Play with fire, expect to be burnt. I will not flinch over your empty threats. 

In Sheridan's head, there are two versions of the story -- the first version is that the Heart Break Gal lost at Triple Threat and is then granted by the management another match against Aria Jaxon, because apparently her history and relationship with the company was enough to put her in another headlining vixens match, despite plotting schemes in the past to take over every brand in this industry! The second version of her story is that The Heart Break Gal, after Triple Threat, got on her knees in front of Aria Jaxon for days and weeks, and begged her to give me another shot at the title at Pain for Pride.

And here's the real version of the story from my point of view. Uncut. Unrated. And totally uncensored:

IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER, YOU STUPID BITCH.

It's not my fault that you spend most of your time running around in circles figuring out how to make the best of your opportunities. It's not my fault that even after winning the Vixens Cup, no Champion blinks an eye or is threatened by your presence. It's not my fault that you had to walk in matches and troll Madison Kaline just to get noticed by what little fanbase you have for that gold comedy prank that you pulled. You don't get to dance with the Champions because nobody sees you as anything more than a run-of-the-mill wrestler, and that basically half the things you spew are nothing but random buzzwords that serve no purpose but to attempt to hype yourself up to no avail. If you want to be seen as someone worthy of being granted more than you've been given, being a wrestler isn't enough. You need to be a tactician. You need to be conniving. You need to prove to the world that you are more than what you lead on, and that you can think your way out of situations and march on the pathway to the gold, especially when nobody expects it. Because this is a kill or be killed world, Sheridan, survival of the fittest has always been our code, and there is absolutely no room for bumbling weaklings like yourself. Why do you think the likes of Cloud Matsuda never held on to the Specialist Championship? Why do you think Haruna Sakazaki in November couldn't get through one Championship defense? Why do you think Aria Jaxon fell so hard after just one month of experiencing what it's like to be Champion? It's because they don't understand what it means to keep your gold around your waist and defend it like it was your own dear life. Winning Championships can be an easy task, but to prove that you’re worth the title is a completely different story as you have to evade all the idiots and the glorified parasites who are out to get you whilst dealing with the non-believers who scream that you are trash. Anyone can be determined. Anyone can be charismatic. What it boils down to is how you handle yourself when standing up among the rest. You were never made for that role, Sheridan. Nobody screams your name when they think of the main event. Your name doesn’t come to mind when they think of the main attraction. Nobody yelps JUSTICE4SHER every single time grandiose moments and opportunities pass you by, because a disgraceful German filth like yourself doesn't even pass as anything remotely close to the whole fucking package. To complain about why Vixens like you are constantly being left behind, is like complaining of your own incompetence and unwillingness to move forward, and refusal to think of something more creative than jokes about old age, because if people look at me and you side by side, it would be obvious who is more toned, more experienced in this craft, and more valuable overall in this company. Do you want to know the true story of how I got the Vixens Championship match? Watch Voltage. I challenged Aria Jaxon, a person who could have easily let me down, but foolishly accepted after I have proven myself in one match thinking that I would have the same bold face, the same tricks and the same schemes that I had at Triple Threat. She is no longer champion because of her own decisions. She is no longer champion because she made the horrible mistake of assuming that I would let myself get defeated again. I didn't need to use my resources or pull any string, at least not this time around. She brought this upon herself, all I did was beat her. Does that answer your concern, Ms. German Efficiency? Or are you going to keep telling me that my points are trash and completely illogical, without ever explaining how so, besides the fact that you disagree? 

I choose what I represent, and I only represent me. I am the Heart Break Gal, the four-time Vixens Champion, and it means that it’s another accomplishment added to my resume as a Hall of Famer. It means that I get to keep this title and defend it by any means necessary so people like you will cry more about how opportunities have gone away, and complain about how I get better treatment than the rest of you. It means that nothing is left for the Vixens to fight for, other than that bastardized version of the Vixens Championship that Tarah Nova is currently holding, which if I get the chance I will take away from all of you as well. Do you honestly think I give a shit what you intend on doing about it? Do you honestly think I give a single thought about the betterment of the Vixens Division while I was in that match at Pain for Pride? Oh, honey, there's still so much that you need to learn. That's just the thing, Sheridan, you ALMOST beat me. You ALMOST pulled a victory over me. Your career after the Vixens Cup event has been full of almost’s and what-ifs, because you never get the drive to push forward and create it into something that is a thing of the present. Never will you see me brag about my almost-wins because to me, a loss is a loss that I have to accept no matter how fucking discouraging it gets. If my carelessness cost me a win, then I have nobody to blame but myself. But that's just the thing, I don't just get stuck in the blame-game where I feel sorry for myself every day of the week. If I wasted an opportunity, then by any means necessary, I would shatter glass windows with my own fucking fist just to break into a new one, I would cross oceans and back as fast as I can if it means even a slight chance of accomplishing more than I already have, and just because your miserable, incompetent, repulsive existence makes you unable to do the same thing, and you have the mental capacity equivalent to a fucking peanut that you simply can't reason, doesn't mean that this world is being unfair, Sheridan, sometimes it's just how you are wired. So go ahead, tell me that I'm wrong without actually explaining it, and tell more tales about this company's conspiracy against you. It’s real original. Tell me how I'm going to lose and that you'd break me. Please make me fear the wrath of your finishing maneuver with a cringeworthy name "Sherplex", that I apparently should be watching out for as if I've never taken worse hits in the past year alone. But by the end of it all, you will have to deal with the fact that nothing you say is enough to make me doubt myself. Nothing you do will be enough to make me fall. Even moments when you've felt relieved to see me down and dead in the middle of the ring, I kick out and rise back up to hunt you down just to spite you and to prove that I'm not killed off that easy. 

For this is true efficiency that you continue to preach but will never live up to. 

This is true superiority that you can only dream of. 


This is The Heart Break Gal.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 10:04 pm by Cailin Dillon

Battleground #3
 
Why on earth did you beg for me to come at you only to turn around and tell me to stand down? Why beg me to submit to a mercy killing? You call yourself a monster now, well that’s so originally boring of you. As boring as me being the all-american tough girl who just won’t quit trying. I might not be original, but I’m also not finished. My glass ceiling hasn’t been reached. These ways you compare us and claim I haven’t accomplished anything more than you have… you’re probably one of the only people that truly feels that way. But if you are indeed to become a monster, I better let you in on a secret. Whether you intend to live under the bed or in the closet, or maybe you just plan on emerging in my dreams… monsters aren’t real. Either are these threats you’re making. Are they threats? Of course. Are they actually things you are capable of doing? No, not even for a second. You can misconstrue that all you want and act like you just caught me, like I never believed you were capable of anything, but you’re the one who’s seeing through the colored glasses now. You know who I worried about at Grand Rampage? It wasn’t the Heart Break Gal. It wasn’t Haruna. It was you. Because I knew how badly you wanted to take that from me and prove to the world that you were more than just Cailin Dillon’s girlfriend. And I’m just fine that you did. Sure, you acted like an ass hat afterwards, mainly toward me, but as we know now… that’s just who Stephanie Matsuda is.
 
You say all these things that you and the Sanatorium are going to do and what you’re trying to point out. But at the surface, this match really turns out to be about the hatred you harbor towards me over the way our relationship deteriorated. Maybe I should have stood up for you at some point other than just submissively telling her to stop saying things about you. To stop calling you Aquaman. But the deed is done and this is where we are. There’s no turning back and no reason to look back and wonder what we could have done differently. I accuse you of wanting us to choose because sometimes words don’t tell the whole story. It was something I knew you were thinking. Sometimes relationships end. This isn’t a sob story. This is just a run of the mill breakup. We were doomed. You’re hanging on to it now. You’re urging me to take your side now and see your side of things. Telling me to open my eyes to your extremely narrow view of the world. You’ve joined the woe is me party. The group that claims everyone is getting jipped and they want to make things fair again. That’s not what’s going on here. Your match at Triple Threat wasn’t fixed. You could have won at Pain for Pride, but you took yourself out of the match. There were no politics involved there. Just poor decisions.
 
I never thought you were scared of me. Not even for one second. Why would I be afraid of you? Because you’re with Eclipse now? You guys will carry out your plan and maybe you’ll experience a fair deal of success. But I’ve been in your shoes before. Believe me, the Iconomy wasn’t all that far from what Eclipse has organized now. But I decided to stand up for myself then, and I’m still standing up for myself now. That’s why no matter what kind of weapons you plan on coming to our match strapped with, no matter what kind of monster you want to pretend to be, I will be ready. I would never say you deserve anything that happened to you. But I still don’t see this as a move of evolution for you. I feel like this offer was put out above your head and left there. A standing offer. When things got tough, you didn’t stand up for yourself and fight your way out of the hole. That’s what I’m doing. No, you took the offer and signed your name in blood. You put your soul out there on the line. This doesn’t make you more dangerous, it makes you more desperate. You don’t hear me talking about things in the script. I’m talking straight to you about things that really happened. We grew distant because I was too competitive and too emotional. I created extra distance between us by pushing myself away and moving out. I needed the distance. IF you think a break up is cause to become a monster, than you’re sadder than I believed. If you think a few losses is a reason to join Sanatorium and blame the world for your problems, then you’re just a sore loser.
 
You admit that I have stood tall and done big things here, but now you’re choosing to elevate yourself high above me without really any merit at all. I consider us to be equals, and I have for a long time. I always treat opponents with the same competitive respect. Let’s talk shit back and forth. But when we get into the ring it’s all equal again. May the best woman on that night win. I was damn near the best woman in this company for five months. Maybe I fell off, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of beating you. We’ve all been in the same places, experienced some of the same kind of crap in our lives, but you challenging anything I have to offer to this match is the most laughable thing you’ve done all week. Ok then, you think I’m scared of a Cloud 9? Maybe we’re equals, or maybe I’ll make you leave this match feeling like you’re nothing but hot air. Maybe you’ll walk away from the ring thinking this isn’t about backstage politics and quick counts after all.

I’m not going to promise I’m the best in the world or even the best Vixen right now, but I’ll promise you I walk out of this match standing on both legs and with a smile across my face. My hair will still be orange and there won’t be even a drop of my crimson smeared across the canvas. I’ve faced plenty of dark challenges, and I have no doubt you think you are capable of being the darkest ever. You’re fighting for glory and your insatiable hunger. I’m fighting with an insatiable hunger you can’t even imagine. No politics backing me up. I’m not about the prize at the end, but I am about beating the field to reach the top. If I beat everyone that’s put in front of me, the reward at the end will take care of itself. Empress of Elite? I’ll win it. Vixen’s title? I’ll take it for my own. And it won’t be because I kissed the right asses or joined the right group at the right time to spearhead my way to greatness. And it won’t be because of Tarah Nova or Aria Jaxon. I will do what it takes to become the best in this company. I will fight you and I will keep ticking on, unscathed. Unbroken.
 
Your clouds might still breathe for me, but your remaining love is nothing more than a façade. I won’t stand down. I won’t get down on my knees and give up for you. I will not suffer any consequences. I will save myself by beating you. I will expose you as nothing more than a common girl pretending to be a monster. I’m not scared of monsters and I’m sure as hell not scared of you. I won’t back down and I won’t give up. Your offer is declined. And your destiny is to lose to me in this match. Not because of the ill-will you harbor between us, but because that’s just how it’s going to be. Don’t believe me? You better bring the boys to make sure you win this match. You’re going to need all the help you can get.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 8:01 pm by kennydrake
ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Some Random Street
12:30 pm on THURSDAY

Outside a Starbucks. Carson Ramsay and Kenny Drake lean against the railing. Kenny’s smoking a cigarette. Carson sips at his pussy drink Frappuccino.

Remember when Coffee shops just sold coffee?

Nope.

Yeah, me neither...this Fru-Fru Frappuccino is good, though.

It’s a milkshake.

Yeaaaah, it’s just a milkshake...so people drink this shit in the morning?

Yup. Gross, right?

It’s pretty...yeah, it’s pretty gross.

Carson continues sipping.

Aaaaand continues.

Aaaaaaaaaand continues.

...Jesus, come up for air, Shamu.

You gonna...I dunno...breathe anytime soon?

The sound of sucking through an empty straw, signaling the end of Carson’s drink.

I’m sorry, it’s just so disgusting...so deliciously disgusting.

OH….MYgod….

Carson and Kenny turn and look straight at an overly obese man wearing a “PAIN FOR PRIDE 5” shirt. The poor shirt is barely holding in the waves of flab as the man waddles over to Carson and Kenny.

You’re Carson Ramsay!

Yup. You got me.

... “ohmygod, isthatKENNYDRAKE?” Who said that?

The Fan turns and looks around. He doesn’t see anyone and turns his attention back to Carson.

I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you! I mean….YOU’RE CARSON RAMSAY!

...and Kenny Drake…

Uh-huh. Mr. Ramsay! Can I get a picture with you?

Of course, man.

Ohmygod...this is so cool.

The Fan simply hands his phone to Kenny Drake and stands beside Carson, who just chuckles to himself. Kenny looks...well, he’s not STOKED this is happening, let’s say that.

Kenny begins to type furiously on the phone. The Fan holds the pose next to Carson.

Keeps holding...Kenny types more.

Holding…

The Fan’s face goes from jovial to confused.

Excuse me, Kevin Drake, right?

Yup. Kevin Drake.

What exactly are you doing?

Just texting random people...going through your pictures and shit...man, you take a LOT of dick pics…

Carson turns to the fan and looks him up and down, as if studying him.

...Clark Duncan?

Excuse me, Kevin. Don’t go through my phone!

My man, you straight HANDED it to me.

To take a selfie.

First off, a SELFIE is where you take a photo of yourself. THIS? THIS is a PHOTO. Don’t be an asshole. Second, you never specified what I was supposed to do, you just handed me the phone. But if you want a selfie, a selfie you shall get.

Kenny raises the phone into the sky and purses his lips into a duck beak. After a few clicks, Kenny undoes his belt and pulls his pants open. He points...and clicks…

THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, MAN?!

Taking selfies. AND I’m adding to your dick pic collection. You’re welcome.

Kenny tosses the phone into the air, sending The Fan scrambling to catch it. Carson just shakes his head as Kenny lights up another cig.

The Fan checks his phone and glares at Kenny, who blows him a kiss back. The Fan shakes his head and turns his attention back to Carson.

So you’re taking on Christian Locke and J.D. Damon on Saturday, right?

Yep. Me and this grumpy bastard.

The Fan looks back at Kenny, who smiles like a goon and waves awkwardly. Fan turns back to Carson, his voice now a whisper.

...Him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him?

No offense to Kevin Drake, but...you can do a LOT better.

You know I can hear everything you’re saying, right?

But we’re whispering.

Oh, ok...my mistake then.

Kenny shakes his head and continues his cigarette, rambling something in Hindi to himself.

Is he ok?

What, like, generally? Nah, not really.

No, I mean now. He’s talking to himself.

Yeah, that’s kinda his jam, my friend. What’s your name, by the way?

Todd. Two D’s

Oh, FUCK YOU. TODD. WITH TWO D’S.

Carson and Todd are taken aback by Kenny’s outburst.

...uhhh…

“Uhhhhh! UHHHHH Wha? Wha? Cheeseburgers? Did you say Cheeseburgers?” CAN YOU TELL IF SOMEONE PRONOUNCES YOUR NAME WITH ONE D?!

I’m…

A FUCKBOY?! YEAH! I KNOW!!

Ohno…

YOU LISTEN HERE, YOU FUCKIN’ SLOTH-MAN! MY NAME IS KENNY FUCKING DRAKE! KENNY! NOT KEVIN DRAKE, NOT DRAKE JAEGER althoughthatwouldbesuperawesomeifiwas BUT KENNY DRAKE!

I’m sorry…

YOU SURE ARE! YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN THIS SATURDAY, TODD?!

...n...no…

THIS SATURDAY, YOU FUCKBOY,  I’M GOING TO PROVE TO THE WORLD THAT I AM NOT A GOD DAMN JOKE! I AM NOT A FUCKING LOWER-TIER TALENT!! I AM THE FUTURE OF EAW, AND THAT I DON’T NEED SOME SONOFABITCHING 24/7 CONTRACT THAT SONOFABITCHING CHRISTIAN LOCKE HAS TO PROVE IT!! THIS SATURDAY, YOU ARE GOING TO WITNESS SOMETHING YOU NEVER SAW COMING!! YOU UNDERSTAND?! THIS SATURDAY, I SHOW THE WORLD THAT I AM THE GREATEST SONOFABITCHING WRESTLER TO HAVE EVER WALKED THE FUCKING PLANET! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, TODD...WITH TWO FUCKING D’S?!

Todd with Two D’s doesn’t know what to do. He looks at Carson for help, but the former Pure champ simply shrugs and points at Kenny, who is FUMING mad. Todd with Two D’s cuts his losses and simply walks away, leaving a calm Carson and infuriated Kenny.

...you handled that REALLY well, man. Real professional.

NO, YOU'RE CRYING!

Kenny turns and stomps away, going out of his way to yell at a random old woman at the nearby bus stop. Carson just stares.

...welp...that’s why we love him…hate him?....no, love him.

Carson takes a final sip from his empty cup and tosses it into the street. We hear a car slam on it’s brakes, a horn, and a loud crash.

“OH MY GOD!! SOMEONE CALL THE AMBULANCE!!”

“WHO THREW THAT CUP!? OH MY GOD, THIS GUY IS BLEEDING OUT!!

Carson looks around and walks away, whistling his theme song.

[BLACK]
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 5:28 pm by Stephanie Matsuda
Battleground Promo #2

“Monsters”


“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

There we go. There’s the Cailin Dillon that I wanted to see. Poke a dangerous animal a few times and it’ll bare its fangs. The only difference though this time is mine are bigger than yours (winks). You know it never cease to amaze me how dimwitted you and Aria really are. Somehow the rest of the world gets it, except for the two of you. If I was chilling with someone and they popped shit about you or Aria, I wouldn’t have sat there and laughed it off. I would have either walked away or smacked them like the no good piece of shit they are- YES CAMERA GUY I’M SWEARING AGAIN!

(sighs)

So much for what loyalty gets you. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for the #Squad. Maybe I was kept around as some kind of jester, as some pet mascot to make everyone feel good about themselves. With you, I can see this happening. But with Aria...she’ll get hers. She, Aren, and the rest of the Boxcar Kids she hangs out with nowadays.  By the way, I never said you had to choose. Not until the end. Not until that bitch crossed the line. But as we made our way to the point of no return you kept swearing up and down those were my intentions. Maybe she fed you those lies, maybe you tricked yourself into believing it, so you didn’t have to be responsible for what happens next.

Spoiler Alert!:
 

(Gives Camera Guy the finger)

Even when the devil looks you in the eye, you just smile like you’re not afraid. Need I remind you that you’re just not facing any vixen? You’re squaring off with me. One on one. No Sanatorium, no Tarah, just us. And quite frankly Cailin karma’s on my side. Aria lost her title and Alex lost his identity, something he stole from me. Maybe me winning the Specialist Championship from you- yes that’s how I’m telling it- was the universe telling me to move on. I should’ve paid attention to the signs. Maybe this suffering I still feel in my heart are my sins coming home to roost. Maybe I deserve the bad things that happened to me. That’s the funny thing about life: you never know. I am still bitter Cailin. Your poison still runs through my veins, corrupting my soul. There’s several things I can’t agree with you on though. This is not an identity crisis, but evolution. This is me standing up for myself. This is me at my most dangerous. See it. Know it. Understand it. This is not a scripted story where the orange haired heroine wins. This is Our Reality where I make you see where you fucked up at. I show you that all the confidence and hair color changes in the world can’t save you from your fate. Kayfaybe can’t save you Cailin Dillon.

You’re right about standing tall above the competition. You showed and proved during your year here at the Land of Elite. But no matter how you look at it, you’ve reached your glass ceiling. And up till now I’ve been where you were. I’ve held the Specialist Championship, defeated veteran Vixens, and came out on top battling multiple opponents. There’s nothing new you can show me except what a human incarnation of Fireball whiskey looks like. I was an Indie darling like yourself, I was engaged to a man who broke my heart. You and I traveled to all the same places at different times. What could you possibly show me that I haven’t seen? The Phoenix Splash? I can do that with my eyes closed. Eyes of Texas? Just another superkick. If I can catch two Craze Daze’s to the face and still get up, then your thing is nothing. What do you have in your bag of tricks that I should be afraid of Cailin Dillon!? Your unbreakable confidence!? Your All-American spirit!? WHY SHOULD I BE AFRAID OF YOU!?

(Breathing heavily)

I don’t give a damn how good you think you are. You’re not walking out of the ring on both legs. I gave you an olive branch and you still refuse the clouds that breathe for you. Fine, I’ll be your monster Slayin Dillon. I’ll be the darkest, deadliest thing to ever come out of the abyss. I’ll sank my fangs and suck out your very life force, your will to continue on in this business. But remember this : the monsters you fight are a reflection of yourself. I may not give a shit about EAW’s false symbols of excellence, but I still hunger for glory. I still hunger for beating the best. I still hunger for defeating you. This hunger will be my my drive as I show the EAW universe that fighting for the sake of competition should be enough. These politics...these extra things that are added onto our industry is a virus that will consume us.  You’re no politician, that much I know. You may not follow the status quo, but you are a tool being used to maintain it. If I have to break the tool known as Cailin Dillon then so be it. There’s only so far you can get playing the unassuming tough girl. Your personal limitations will be revealed in our upcoming match. You fight for yourself, but I’m getting back my self-respect. You claim I made a questionable decision instead of building myself back up and becoming the competitor everyone expects me to be!?  Did you guys ever really believed in me? I seriously doubt it. Maybe you think the Sanatorium is using me or vice versa. But, your brother and I already had that conversation. We know what’s going to happen when a specific situation takes place. It’s just a matter of who strikes first when it happens.

But all in all, the clouds will continue to breathe for you. This attempt number two to get you to stand down Cailin. I know you won’t accept it, but with what love I still have for you demands I make you another offer. So here it is: Stand down Saturday and I’ll spare you. If you come, join me. If not, suffer the consequences. Tarah can’t save you, neither can HRDO, James Shields, or Ashten Cross. Kayfabe can’t save you. 

Only you can save yourself.
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 12:49 pm by Lucas Johnson
EAW Draft Promo #3 - The Cloud Around Me

The Young Lions Cup isn't a guaranteed title match, you need to fight your way to the big one. You need to bust your ass every single damn week and you need to give your hundred and ten percent every single time. This isn't like the Cash in the Vault, the King of Elite, the 24/7 Contract Battle Royal or the Open Fight Gauntlet when you get to choose your title match right away I need five total victories while defending my trophy to earn a title match, it could be the Pure Championship, it could be the Interwire Championship, but the one championship I only care about right now is the New Breed Championship. I want to be the god, I want to be at the top of the food chain, I want to be the man that runs this place here in the New Breed division, you start from the bottom and you earn your way up and if I want to earn a World Heavyweight Championship match down the line in my career I want to do it the right way and that is work from the bottom of the totem pole and work my way up. I do realize that this Saturday night maybe my last night as an Voltage roster member but it also could be the last night I could be the holder of the Young Lions Cup trophy. I swear to god a couple of moments in my career I thought were bad like Fighting Spirit 2 but this past weekend at Pain for Pride 9 felt like my worst nightmare, it all felt like I was having the worst dream ever. I walk into Pain for Pride and have one of the best performances in my career apart of Team New Breed but unfortunately my team mates didn't capitalize on helping out myself and current New Breed Champion JJ Silva. It felt like I was trapped inside a dark cloud of emotions that was bringing back to my child hood and I couldn't wake up from the nightmare because it's real life and it is reality. Tarah Nova was cleaning house for the Vixens Division and that was expected but pretty much carrying her whole team the entire match up? It was like I was playing Whack-A-Mole because I was trying to hit the mole every time but I would just miss and one by one, the mole would win each round. I'll be perfectly honest the last couple of days I was depressed over my Pain for Pride loss because I thought for the year I had, I thought all my hard work would finally pay off. I thought my redemption is finally here, not only for me but for my family in attendance watching me capture something I have been trying to grab ever since I arrived here at the land of the elite and that is the New Breed Championship. But I couldn't let the depression get to me, I lived in a cloud of sadness but looking back at my days at the Ohio State University, my coach Nick would always say never dwell in the past you need to pick your head up and focus on the present and that's picking my head up and defending my trophy for the third time. "Third time is the charm" That statement is a legend in itself because if I make it through you Aria and the next two defenses It will be third time I would be going for the New Breed Championship and the third time is the charm for the win column while defending the Young Lions Cup trophy....

Go losing your sense of humor on me? You now claim I was a poor man's StarrStan and now you claim that was all a joke? Oh no.....oh hell no Aria, don't try and start playing these mind games with me now. You want to turn this all into a joke now when I caught you red handed in the cookie jar? You're damn right about I am starting my career up while he is closing his but do you want to know how many times I get compared to StarrStan in a bad way? A LOT ALMOST EVERY FUCKING DAY! Don't you dare try to play mind games with me, don't you dare try to play with the ball of my emotions, don't you dare become the horrible human being in this story.....it seems to me that your boyfriend Aren taught you the horrible ways of life when he taught you to wear the pants in the family eh? Do you want me to turn this back on you Aria because I can play hard ball. You're damn fucking right about myself facing someone like you that is on another level, I have never faced someone like you and for the first time in my life defending the Young Lions Cup I am the under dog in the betting odds. I don't want this friendship to burst into a storm just because our losses at Pain for Pride turned us into a new person but my frustrations and my nightmare will all come to an end this coming Saturday night at the EAW Draft LIVE on Battleground for the final time. Nobi and Luke Reign may have been bench warmers are a walk in the park but trust me when I tell you this I need to take my anger out on someone and Aria Jaxon that person unfortunately needs to be you. Do you know what I want? For once in my life I don't care how bad my opponent gets injured, I don't care if you become a bloody mess and bleed like a stuffed pig. I don't care if they're broken bones like when I put you into The Machine Break, and I frankly don't care how long I got to wrestle because I want to release the inner demons from inside me and I want to prove to you Aria and everyone in the back that I can not only hang with the greatest but also beat the greatest. But the question is how do I defeat someone like you Aria? You are so great for someone at such a young age and I will tell you how, that is by studying film. I traveled back to Atlanta and found all the latest matches on the EAW Network and studied Aria Jaxon to a tee, I know how your Plan A, B and C walking into every match. I know what your weakness' are and knowing all these tools I am going to use it to my advantage. The games are over the first time in her career, The Empress of the Elite falls to the Wrestling Machine!
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 9:34 am by ThePizzaBoy
The cameras open once again to a quiet hospital corridor where Pizza Boy sits looking down at a set of x-ray print outs on his lap.  All joy, color and fight has been drained from his face as he fights to lift his head up and stare into the camera, visibly fighting back tears.

PB: I wish I had your enthusiasm, TLA.  I wish I had your gumption and your 'swagger', but as I go into this match I do so as a fairly broken man.  You're right, we've both proven men like Mexican Samurai wrong, and if he was as vicious and brutal with you as he was with me, I'm sure you've got your battle scars to show as well.  That makes it all the more remarkable that you can go out there with your song and dance with such energy and vigor in your step as you talk up a war between two champions like it's some house party.  Despite my name I'm no longer a kid, and that means play time is over for me.  It has been for awhile really, but one little dark spot on a CAT scan has made my misery and dread a physical manifestation.  I haven't been in to talk to the doctor about the results yet, but I'm pretty sure I know what they have to say.  At least most of it anyway.  It's not a good sign when the technician with no real medical background knows what she's looking at on a monitor.  Eh, but go ahead.  Talk that crowd into their seats, bring a little bit of color to this match, make it more about the event than it is about the gold, but just like whatever is growing inside of my skull right now is a physical manifestation of everything going wrong with my life, the EAW National Championship is metal and leather proof of my perseverance.  


PB stands up, staring the camera down with great frustration as he does so.

PB: Sorry, I forgot I was dealing with someone who doesn't speak or read English well.  The cliffs notes version is that I'm sick.  I'm really really sick, sick in ways men don't get over, sick in ways that could put me in a coma or worse, but I walked into Pain for Pride a sick man and I walked out a two time champion, and while it's true that you did so also, you did so as an able bodied man.  But who am I to be the wet blanket of reality, have your fun, party it up.  Enjoy the prestige of that Interwire Championship now, while you still can, with that Orlando crowd in your ear telling you that you're the better man.  In that ring none of that matters, in that ring we'll be at the eye of the storm, unable to hear that dueling chant of 'Let's Go Pizza', 'T-L-A!'.  We both know wherever we land after the draft that those chants wont be silenced, regardless to whether or not we come out the victor of this encounter, but there's an unequivocal, without a doubt, etched in the record books fact that one of us is going to get the bigger pop when the night is done.  One of us will be viewed as a dominant champion of a superior pool of contenders.  They may cheer for us both TLA, but they'll cheer louder for me when I pin you to that mat.

PB clutches the side of his head and winces.  He turns on his heels and begins stomping away in angry pain as his x-rays float out of his hand and to the floor as both hands find his throbbing temples.  He quickly turns, charging at the camera with a rage in his eyes.

PB: My life is a headache, my brain is on fire, and my pain threshold is constantly screaming at a fever pitch.  The back of my head has met unforgiving oak, my face has tasted turnbuckle post, I've willfully flung myself off of ladders and been stomped in the face by three different pairs of malcontent feet.  Compared to what I've been through over the past three weeks, this match between you and I TLA is a walk in the park.  I don't mean to sound bitter and I don't mean to be brash, but between the two of us only one of us has been to war against the most insurmountable odds in EAW, and it didn't all start and end at Pain for Pride.  I fought HexaGun by myself, I fought the Mercenaries and won, I've taken on Omerta and walked away lobotomized with a championship title around my waist that shouldn't have left it in the first place! Yeah, Mexican Samurai is a punk with a vendetta against anyone who gets ahead of him in this industry, but he's the preschool to my high school honors classes in the school of hard knocks!

PB winces and grabs two handfuls of hair and backs away once again gnashing his teeth as his brain tries to find equilibrium.  Seething, he looks into the light of the camera once more as he tries to fight for composure as his forehead starts to sweat

PB: I'm really trying to come into this match with respect for you TLA, but if you're not going to take me seriously then you're the same as all the rest.  You're right.  We're going to throw down, we're going to have a knock down, drag out, piss blood in the morning fight the likes of no other because we're two champions, and champions don't go in half cocked.  Champions don't leave change on the table.  Champions live, die, and resurrect all in one night to prove that they're the champion for a reason.  There's no party waiting for you in that ring, TLA unless you're planning to go to a Pizza Party.  A pizza party doesn't stop until you're on your back, clutching your gut, unable to eat another bite of solid food.  Not because you're full, but because your jaw is wired shut from where I kick it in with my size nine and a half.  I'm done living in shadows.  I lived in Tony's, I lived in HBB's, I lived in HexaGun's, and I lived in Omerta's.  No more.  Now is my time to bask in that hot sunlight, where the EAW National Championship can get some well deserved shine and I can get that champion's tan.  It's time for me to come out of the darkness and live the good life on top.  It's time for me to be everything that men like you obnoxiously say I'm not with your back handed compliments.  It's my time to shine, TLA, and it's your turn to be made in the shade.

A man in a lab coat makes his way down the hallway, nearly passing PB and the camera crew.  He stops, shakes PB's hand, and snatches the x-rays off of the floor.  He takes one dooming glance and then flashes a smile at the Pizza Boy.

Doctor: Andrew?

PB: Uhm, yeah.

Doctor: Ah yes, we need to talk.  If you could just, um, maybe dismiss the cameras?

PB: Oh yeah, sure sure.

PB awkwardly shoves his hands into his pocket and nods at the cameras in a dismissive fashion before puppy dogging into a room behind the good doctor.  The door shutting behind him as the cameras unceremoniously cut off.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 7:16 am by Guest
Battleground #3

'' That's right. You can't have two days on your own. You're a wrestler, we work over three hundred days a year and travel across states and countries to entertain crowds who have paid good money to see us, and when we're not wrestling, we're training. You don't get a rest, you don't get to celebrate. I'm not going to congratulate you on your Vixens Championship win, would you like to know why. It's because it's undeserved. You had your chance at Triple Threat, that event, which you were the main event of. You lost. You actually lost clean after Eris injured herself. Yet you went to management with your little tail between your legs, and tears welling in the corners of your eyes, and what a surprise, you got yet another opportunity. I'm not complaining about you, oddly enough, I'm complaining about the opportunities and chances you get compared to the rest of the division. These chances are gifted to you based upon your history and your relationship with the company, not because of your wrestling ability. It should only be about wrestling ability, whilst the actual wrestlers, who train and work their asses off, don't get any matches against a champion, you do because what, you didn't like how your lost one went. You have the nerve to mock me for complaining about this, yet you complained when you lost to Aria to get another title shot. It makes me wonder, it makes me tilt my head at the thought of how long you were on your knees begging to get that match with Aria. I'm not the voice of the new generation, neither am I here to claim we're taking over. But I am Sheridan Müller, the Personification of German Efficiency. You say you are willing to break bones so you can retain your championship. That will be fun to test out, however due to your old age I fear the only bones which will be breaking will be yours. I have very little idea where you got the thought that facing Kendra Shamez was a privilege. That match was simply a case of putting down another old bag, a jealous one at that. I'm not sure if you're aware, as you clearly don't pay attention to the rest of the Vixens division, and just walk in and out of it whenever you wish, but I am somewhat of a big deal. I'm very good at beating people. I'm quite brilliant at it in fact, I am also skilled in my words, when I state something, it tends to happen without a fault or a re-run. I don't need a second chance unlike you, if I were in that main event at Triple Threat, I would have won. I'd saunter out of it with the championship around my slender waist and a smile upon my face, as opposed to a pout, and throwing a tantrum backstage. That's the difference between you and I, Heart Break Gal, I don't need to mindlessly turn on the water works to get what I want. I get what I want because I am a determined individual, I am the most efficient wrestler in this division, and I will have absolutely no rebuttals with getting to prove that on Battleground. ''

'' I've been sleeping well, actually. I have a very quaint bed which supports my back so I don't tend to go a night without seven to eight hours of sleep. You know, it's quite amusing to me how you bring up this whole hunter and prey idea. Then you try to play with your words like you would food, and attempt to give evidence to a illogical hypothesis that I am in fact the prey in our little situation. Quite frankly you are nowhere close to the truth, as a matter of fact you're speaking complete rubbish, as the opposite of this statement is the truth. I am the hunter. You are the prey. It's odd you believe I think about anything else apart from actual wrestling. I stand for wrestling. Don't make me bring up the fact I've wrestled more and won more matches than you have in these past three months. Hell, if it were not for Madison Kaline I would have easily pinned you on Dynasty. I have spent seven months now working towards making this division an efficient place, where the only thing that actually matters is wrestling, and what goes on in the wrestling ring. I have worked so endlessly to remove the whole sports entertainment concept from the mouths of these women. So for you to even claim that I think about anything other than wrestling is a joke, and shows that you care very little for this division, and put yourself first as opposed to thinking about the division. Which is funny, considering you're supposed to represent each and every one of us, you are the Vixens Champion after all, ja. But instead you're a selfish, bitter old bitch who cannot stand to see anybody else succeed in this division. You got very lucky against Aria at Pain For Pride, and you're demonstrating in this video as if you beat her without a mark on you, when we both know, and even Tarah might know, that is far from the truth. Hey look, you made a World War II joke. I should probably criticise such but you were actually in that war, you would have been what, around thirty years old at that point. I'll let it slide. I'll tell you who put me in charge, Heart Break Gal, considering you want to know ever so desperately. I put myself in charge. When I came into this division, you weren't even here. Eris was champion, and she was in a rivalry with Madison. There was no leader of this division, despite the fact Tarah will tell you ever so differently. You were meddling in the tag division. So I appointed myself the leader, and hasn't it gone oh so well so far. I am the only woman to win the Vixens Cup, that cup which I can cash in on you whenever I feel like it. I even managed to secure the Vixens a main event at an event, despite the fact the women in it were a disgrace, that in itself is a big accomplishment. I made myself the leader of this division for I am the most intelligent, beautiful and most talented wrestler in this division, therefore, along with German Efficiency, I can show others the way. I've eliminated the likes of Raven Lee, Vanessa Holiday and Madison Kaline from this division, and it has become a better place for it. So don't you fucking even think about saying I'm not the leader of this division, considering you only swanned in here because you weren't efficient enough to hold onto your Tag Team Championships, bitch. You want to know why you should listen to me, ja. Well, I am the holder of the Vixens Cup. I can cash in this whenever I wish, be it on you, or be it on Tarah, whenever I wish to. I still have about eight months to do so. If you honestly want to under-estimate what I can do, and just throw the word rookie into my face then you go right ahead, it will only be more daunting and embarrassing for you when I successfully cash in my title opportunity, on you, and win. Hey, even if I don't win, which won't happen, and you somehow manage to beat me, I can just go to management, cry a little, and they'll give me another match. That's how it works, right. That's what you did, right? You're a selfish bitch, not worse than Tarah, but you're more interested in partying than actually elevating this division. You're supposed to represent this entire division, and as you've just stated, you could not give a shit what happens to it. That's a very bitter, poisonous attitude to hold. If Aria somehow fails to beat you within her rematch, and somebody like Cloud or Cailin can't, then I will happily retire you for the sake of this division. I'm warning you, don't under-estimate me just because of how long I've been here, time doesn't equal ability. I am more efficient than you, I am a superior athlete in comparison to you. I could out brawl you, out submit you, out manoeuvre you and out do you with a click of my fingers. If you want to diminish German Efficiency, and call my cup, how do you say it, a dusty piss cup, then you go right on ahead, but I know that I can beat you, and beating you at Battleground will justify such a statement. You're the best in-ring performer in the entire of Elite Answers Wrestling. Hahahahahaha. Oh, wait, you're serious. Oh dear, I don't know how to tell you this, but you've tested positive for stupid idiot, I'm going to have to diagnose you with Schizophrenia. Sorry Heart Break Gal, but that simply is not true. I'm not going to beat around the bush, but if you honestly think you're the best performer in this division, let alone this promotion then you're in for a very rough, very tedious short reign as the Vixens Champion. I'm sure this will be a learning experience for you, you've said yourself you don't care for this division, so I'm sure you'll learn a lot about how efficient and talented this division has become because of me. You were in the main event of Triple Threat because of the work I had done. Let me bring up again the fact you got another championship opportunity, despite being pinned by Aria at that main event. Also, how come I almost beat you at Dynasty, if Madison wasn't there I can confidently say I would have won. You've amalgamated your little video so that you avoid these critical questions which I will ask you persistently until you give me a legitimate answer. The fact of the matter is, whilst you call me a joke, the only joke here is you. Maybe before I dominate you and Casper at Battleground you can try and fight your way from these questions. But we all know the truth. There's favouritism in the Vixens division, and you are a shining example of this. You have no qualms about burying other talent so you can reign on the division, like the power hungry hippo you are. You want to throw audacious, laughable claims out there like you're going to cut my head off at Battleground. That is simply not true. I can make some easy to follow predictions for Battleground. I will win. You will lose. Catch you in the ring bitch, you should probably call your funeral director and push the plans ahead. I plan to Sherplex you so hard you fall into a coma. I am happy to once again demonstrate that German Efficiency is the future of the Vixens Division, and if that means putting another old, spiteful, indignant whore such as yourself, then I can only comply with absolute drive and determination. ''

'' On the topic of whores, Hey Tarah. When I opened your little promotional sports entertainment hype video thing, I laughed within the first five seconds. You're the better Vixen in this division. Have you and Heart Break Bones been sniffing the same substance or something similar. What are with these patronising, nonsensical women thinking they're the best in this division as they're treated as a teachers pet and beg for any opportunity they have ever had. Did I miss something, whilst originally funny, I begin to see how twisted and cruel this company is when handing out opportunities to women. So when you got absolutely decimated in that Hall Of Fame Championship match, instead of the company seeing, hey she's lost another match, we should probably not trust her in the Vixens division for a while, they give you a Specialists Championship opportunity upfront. Does anyone else smell that, it holds the scent of bullshit. I mean, what, how does that work. I don't know which higher power you begged to to receive that Specialists Championship match,but they clearly didn't need convincing much. I am the most talented Vixen in this division. I am the most efficient, I have justified everything I have said in these videos and have nothing against continuing to prove myself until I sit on the throne of this division, with the Vixens and Specialists Championships around my waist, and I defend them weekly, to elevate this division, to an efficient, perfect standard. I have goals and objectives here, I have carefully written plans, which, aside from Kendra Shamez putting myself a week or two behind, have been followed and performed to perfection. It frustrates me that both you, Casper, and her over there, Pensioner, both claim to run this division, and make it how it is today, all that bullshit. You're both spouting the same message, despite these claims being fuelled by lies. I made the division what it is today, yes yes. You made it what it was six months ago, you made it what it was when you were the only talented fish in the bowl. Since I've arrived, since Aria and your good friend Cailin have arrived, you've fallen down the pecking order a little. You made this division what it was when it was absolute shit, and people used Vixen matches to re-stock their food bowls or go and relieve themselves on the toilet. I have made this division what it is today, an efficient, happy place, with my own dainty, manicured hands, I'm sorry to tell you. You played no part in retiring bitches to make this division a better place. You had no role in my Vixens Cup win, and as you've said, this is the first time we are going to meet in the ring so I have little idea where you've constructed the idea that you're the leader of this division. Did somebody bump their head after sucking off the authorities of Elite Answers Wrestling again. Tut tut. I get you're not like other girls. You can't tan, your hairstyle is silly, you're not independent, you don't have to spell it out for me, I know what you are, I didn't need your help collecting my thoughts and finding out who you are. Thanks for treating me like I'm disabled but I am far from such. You wish to claim I've never stepped in the ring with you, but the same holds true on the other foot. You've never stepped in the ring with Sheridan Müller, The Tigress, the Personification of German Efficiency. I am the most efficient individual Elite Answers Wrestling has ever seen, since arriving here I have accomplished so much, and done so much for this division and I haven't even floated to the top of it yet. That will come when I cash in my guaranteed title opportunity, which I can do at any time I wish. Oh look, Tarah's crying because I don't deserve to be the Vixens Cup holder. Look how that one turned out for Rey and Kendra Shamez. Have a go if you want. I give permission for you to attempt to wrestle me out of this golden opportunity which I so rightly and cleanly earned. I can only assure you, however, that you will lose. You know what really caught me off guard, though, is that you're the first woman to stand up and say this isn't Germany, and you're absolutely right. We're not in Europe, we're in a country which runs by the rules of sports entertainment, where social media is encouraged and these videos for example are encouraged. It's nice to be a foreigner in another country, I like it, I learn new things every day. But one thing which will always hold true is sports entertainment makes me sick. German Efficiency is a lifestyle which will bring you success, when a perfectionist like myself runs with German Efficiency, add in a little pitch of my talent too, and you are guaranteed success. Every match I participate in is match of the night. I elevate all my opponents. You can't deny the Vixens are treated more seriously in the eyes of the fans due to me. I have brought a taste of real wrestling, from the most efficient country in the world, to America. The home of efficiency meets the home of sports entertainment wrestling. There's only going to be one winner, and that winner is going to be Sheridan Müller. You say I have nothing against you. Is this one of these sports entertainment things which my fickle German mind cannot comprehend. Excuse me if I'm wrong but I'm a better wrestler than you, right. I don't beg for championship matches, and get given them based on who I am dating, right. So you're telling me I can't cash in my Vixens Cup and embarrass you by taking away that Specialists Championship. Silly me, why wasn't I listening to the self proclaimed leader of the Vixens division. What a stupid bitch I am. Get a fucking grip you Casper the friendly ghost trophy girlfriend. You claim it's lucky that I beat four women in two nights, and you claim I'm lucky that I beat Kendra Shamez, I wish to see if you'll claim the same once I beat you, will it be luck then my friend. I doubt it. The thing is, there's no such thing as luck in my brain, German Efficiency doesn't believe in luck, only ability. I won the Vixens Cup for I am a talented wrestler. I, easily might I add, dispatched of Kendra Shamez because I am the better wrestler, hey, here's one you'll like, Madison Kaline, that woman which beat you at the Vixens Cup, retired because of me. She wasn't efficient enough. I ridiculed and embarrassed her to the point where the retired. Was that luck. What a false claim, if I had luck you wouldn't be champion based off of who you are fucking in the company. I'm not scared to say that, you're only champion due to backstage politics, allow me to bring up a point I brought up in my previous video, I've wrestled, and won, more matches since winning the Vixens Cup, yet here you stand as a champion, whilst I haven't had any championship match of the sort. Wow, I suppose I am lucky. ''
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Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 4:01 am by Aria Jaxon
THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM -- ORLANDO, FLORIDA.

The thing about holding the Young Lions Cup is that there’s no automatic payout, and that’s assuming you can even get your hands on it in the first place. The person who holds it doesn’t even get the privilege of enjoying the spoils of war initially, first being forced to add a handful of successful retentions to their name before even THINKING about moving themselves into New Breed title contention. It’s not a Cash in the Vault-esque situation, where you can kinda just drop outta the sky whenever and swoop in on the championship of your choosing. There are easier ways to get into a title picture, frankly. It’s like walking on a tightrope; one misstep, and you lose the Cup. One wrong move and you’ve gotta start from scratch, your journey toward gold momentarily halted. It’s not for the faint of heart. There are roads more traveled, far easier ways to reach the gold that people use to pay their way forward in EAW, but that’s the thing -- I’m not interested in what’s easy. I’m not put off by the fight that Lucas can and will put up, and the idea of what awaits me once I win isn’t off-putting either. Lucas’ words only cemented in my mind what I already knew: he’s tryna keep a death grip on that trophy. He was within arm’s reach of the New Breed Championship at Pain for Pride, and he wants to ensure that’s not the closest he gets to it. If things had gone differently, Lucas’ journey to that title could’ve ended last weekend. If the Specialists team hadn’t prevailed, who knows? Lucas could’ve gone on to put JJ Silva away and then, this back and forth exchange wouldn’t even be taking place. He’s made no bones about the fact that last weekend’s events were terribly disappointing to him, and Lucas wasted no time putting his original plan back into motion. He’s a man on a mission, and I can respect that. Yes, I said it. I respect your drive, Lucas. I think it’s fantastic that you’re channeling all at PFP-related frustration into something positive, and that you’re now setting your sights on the New Breed Championship with a renewed, almost-scary fervor. You’ve got it all laid out, don’t you? You’ve really thought this through. You took in what I said about being your toughest challenge yet, but still made up your mind that you’d beat me. If anything, you might’ve looked past it all, staring straight ahead to a couple more successful defenses and a date with JJ for the New Breed Championship. If you were facing anyone but me, I’d be able to buy into your version of events. If anyone else was standing where I am now, I’d wholeheartedly believe what you were saying. Hell, I’d probably even support you in those endeavors, but from where I’m standing...I can’t. I can’t sign off on it all, because I know I have to be the person -- the catalyst -- to derail your quest completely. I sit here now knowing that I’m about to be the blemish on your otherwise-spotless run as Young Lions Cup holder. I almost feel bad about it. Almost. I know you’ve given a tremendous amount of yourself in order to get to this spot, but so have I. You’ve silenced many a detractor to stand where you do now, and so have I. You’re risking life and limb in order to get that first taste of gold...and I’ve been there already. If you think you’re willing to push yourself to the brink just to ascend to championship heights on time, you have no idea what I’m willing to do to get back to that perch again. I’ve latched onto this opportunity, Lucas. And again, the thing is that Young Lions Cup’s payout isn’t automatic. Winning it means tiptoeing through a minefield of hungry challengers before getting within a football field of any kinda gold. I can do it. I can beat you, and I can topple anyone in front of me who comes after that, riding that wave all the way to the New Breed Championship.

Now, don’t go losing your sense of humor on me. The joke about you being a discount bin Starr Stan was just that -- a joke. I mean, c’mon, another white dude in a singlet with amateur wrestling credentials shows up years after Starr’s already made his mark. Of course the comparisons will be unavoidable, and, as you pointed out, also rather transparent. Outside of that, y’all don’t really have much in common. While people like you and I are just beginning our careers here, he’s wrapping his up. While we’re laying the foundations for our legacies, he’s on his way out. I don’t know how you can get so in your feelings over the comparison when you’ve said yourself that you’ve done everything you can to cement your own place and carve out a path completely different than the one trekked down by your idol. You’ve made headway, I can give you that much credit. You summed it up quite well, Lucas -- you clawed your way from relative obscurity to rise up and loom over me now as the man with misfortune of holding onto a prize that I’ve set my sights on.

The third time truly is the charm. I’m the third New Breed prospect given the opportunity of a lifetime and dispatched to pry the cups from your hands, Lucas. Two before me stepped up, and two before me promptly had their asses beat. I can promise you, I’ll be able to do what Nobi and Luke Reign couldn’t. Truthfully speaking, is there even any comparison between me and the two benchwarmers you bulldozed over en route to our match? Get real. You put on the performance of a lifetime back at Pain for Pride. With the right teammates standing beside you, who knows, maybe you could’ve cleaned house. The point is, you’re far too good to have been saddled with the God-awful level of opposition you’ve faced thus far. I’m the challenge you deserve, and all in the same breath, I’m the obstacle you were never ready for. It’s not even a “don’t send a man to do a woman’s job” kinda thing. It’s a matter of not sending subpar members of our illustrious group of freshmen to chase after one of the most coveted prizes being dangled in front of our collective faces. I’ll admit, I might’ve jumped the gun (and been terribly unoriginal) when I pointed out how you came to be the holder of the Cup in the first place. It might’ve fallen into your lap, but obviously you did everything right. There’s no shortage of young talent in EAW, and yet you were apparently enough of a standout to be trusted with writing a new chapter in the Cup’s history. Still, Lucas, you knew the naysayers would come in droves. You knew what was being asked of you now, and instead of letting the newfound weight on your shoulders hold you down, you trudged forward. With every advancing step you’ve taken, you’ve proven yourself to be a worthy Cup holder, that can’t be debated. The one not-so-great thing about the steps you taken forward is that they led you right to me. They led you past all the bottom-rung adversaries you were saddled with before, and the eventual victor you might not ever have been game enough to face. I’m glad you realized I was unlike anyone else you’d dealt with up to this point, but don’t you get it? That’s my not-so-secret weapon, the fact that I’m more than a few tiers above the normal Cup challengers you’re used to. You’re not quite equipped to get past me with the Cup still in your grasp, and it’s really not your fault. You were just doing what anyone in your position would do; the challengers were sent your way, and you flattened them in decisive fashion. That’s what you got used to. It represented business as usual to you, but I am coming to shatter that sense of normalcy. You charting a course for the New Breed Championship should no longer be the plan. It won’t be, not after the Draft. On a night where EAW is annually shaken to its foundation, I’m coming to institute a change of my very own, and you’ll feel the brunt of it, Lucas. Aria Jaxon as the Young Lions Cup holder is the new normal.
Re: EAW Promoz!
Post on July 7th 2016, 12:40 am by Guest
I fight knowing that I neglect my body as I add new legends to my name through excruciating pain, that one day I might wake up and discover that it crippled me, but it is the pain suffered from simply losing that lasts longer. It is the feeling of an emptiness that won’t go away as you fight for what seems like hours, but never cause a dent that sends me to an eternal rage. Those were years ago, memories people lived through but do not remember. But I do, because I have to. I had to train until my legs felt like they were going to give, I had to fight like the underdog even when my opponent signed his contract yesterday, and I had to look at wrestlers I wanted to prove my name to and put a red mark on their forehead no matter how intimidated I was. I remember these things so that I can move an inch each day, to chase ambitions that people say might lead me to a very dangerous mindset, but I fight knowing that I risk everything at one fell swoop because if I don’t sacrifice, then what can I have? If I don’t spill blood for what I believe in then what does that say about my resolve? A man recently questioned why it is that my name is propped up over a multitude of competitors and the answer to that is accountability above all else. I come back after two long years and rather than try and beg the audience into sympathizing with me, I make fools out of the people who don’t learn, innovate or excel. I now live my life with silence all around me as there's nothing to laugh or criticize. There is no underdog story at play here, no pulling myself from the rubble for one last chance. I now walk a straight line knowing that anything I want is inevitable at this point because victory at the end comes at no cost. There are no surprises when I walk out of that curtain. I entered Pain for Pride a man knowing that no matter how many tables ladders and chairs were thrown at me, that I would walk out of that hellhole with my arm raised and the title by my side. Because I know that I am getting close, that I’m fingertips away from a goal known to me since I was in the dark underbelly of this industry fighting for a shot at EAW. Many men when they’re young are told about the omnipotence that comes with being God, but they don’t understand it. No matter how much they savor it, they don’t understand.

I got tired of being seen as a ghost, my actions disappearing in seconds. Tired of being in the crossroads for other people's stories and being the harbinger for their ambitions. I would witness many people I looked up to and fought come back seemingly showing unbridled passion and they would scream that they're alive, only to fade with time. Hundreds of people come to EAW, but only some of them stay, only a few of them make an impact. Now the world waits for what I do.

I said that I was going to have all three of those unlucky individuals in the palm of my hand and the world waited. They didn’t pay no mind to their laughter as their guffawing grew more quiet the longer this war went on. But is it safe to call it a war when they were always on the receiving end? No, it was a massacre not initiated by us. Drake and Jones continued to scream that we took their titles, but now we lift them high up in the air with their blood soaked into the straps. Judas laughed at my belief of retribution coming his way like a bullet train, only to open his eyes to the image of Pizza Boy ending this fight once and for all. Our strongly forged pact comes to an end with victory as the draft comes near and I am ready. If I get drafted then that means I will leave the brand I have always called home without losing a match in that squared circle. If I stay then that means all who have been familiarized with what I am capable of doing better get out of the road that I already paved. I walk with clear intentions to the dismay of many as there is no chink in the armor to slow me down. I’m ready for the draft and therefore I am ready for you, Y2Impact. I’m not going to add salt to the wound for it doesn’t matter if you won or lost the match. I could be facing the Answers World Champion right now and my words would still be sharp, still hold meaning for my actions validate them. But that’s not enough, is it? I can hit you nine times out of ten, but people will expect you to change the course of the match with the tenth due to the legend you built. It doesn’t create animosity nor jealousy, no, instead it only makes me more eager to face you and brings a smile to my face; a smile that was not found during Pain for Pride. I was your student and that bore fruit. I was given money and power, but it is my dream that separates us and forces me to pave my own path and not look to being seen as a successor. I climb upward in becoming the crown jewel of this promotion by beating men like you, but how would I continue to do that if everything I learned was what you taught? Through numerous downfalls and picking myself back up, through trial and error I have become a different man and therefore have been given the opportunity to strike you down. I will show you why I am not the same person who asked you for help during my darkest moment. Why me acting with certainty is not the same as being stubborn. Give me the fight that was denied at Pain for Pride.


Last edited by Cyclone on July 7th 2016, 4:45 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : homer)
 

EAW Promoz!

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