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S.O.T.F. II; State of the Federation
Topic Started: Aug 10 2009, 12:58 AM (2,044 Views)
BrahmaBull10
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Fun-Haver
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OOC: Feedback is appreciated on this one. I didn't feel as though a normal State of the Federation address would be completely appropriate, so I went in a different direction. This is in-character, so please don't anyone catch feelings.
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The scene is not buzzing and jam-packed as was the first State of the Federation. In fact, the only person in the room is Colossus, sitting at a massive mahogany table, World Title belt face-up in front of him with the big man's name proudly engraved on its shining gold.

The young man has a somber demeanor, a few days' worth of facial hair (neatly trimmed, however), a fitted black suit with gold cuff-links, and a red silk tie.

What pants and shoes is he wearing? Well, silly, the camera shot is desk and chest and above only, so don't you worry your pretty little head about that.

The Champion speaks with a slow, authoritative cadence, motioning occasionally with his hands.


"Last year, the buzzword was 'excellence.' I exhorted this company to excellence in all things, and I should say I got it many times over. Not perfectly, but what in life is perfect? Excellence, my friends, I rose that standard high and asked you to follow me in its pursuit."

"For the most part, you did, and for that I am truly grateful."

"This year, the sentiment is different."

"The word is 'loss.'"

"I lost a true friend and a magnificent wrestler, Tara Shannon, and this company lost a wrestler with untapped arsenals of excellence in eXponent."

"Now, you may be saying to yourself: 'Why be negative? You just won the greatest prize in this sport for the second time, something very few people in the history of this company have done. Look to the brightness of the future, not the doldrums of the past.'"

"To that, I would say: 'I am tired of putting on a happy face day in and day out.'"

"I miss Tara Shannon on the road. My wife works her ass off as a schoolteacher, a job she loves, and she can't follow me around like some doting, kiss-ass sycophant of a woman. Growing up, I had no brothers, I had no sisters. I have a couple real friends in this world, and Tara Shannon was one of them. I miss talking to her about things unrelated to wrestling. I miss asking her opinions on weighty matters. And yeah, I damn sure miss fighting her in that squared circle. And I'll never get to do that again, partially because of the man whose ass I whooped at Immortals, partially because of the man whose ass Big Evil whooped at Immortals, but mostly...

...mostly because of Johnny Karisma, you scheming, vile, crippled fuck of a man."

"I was told by the Board of Directors that they'd really, really love if I got all the boys and gals together and did a sequel to my State of the Federation Address. They said the last one did gangbusters ratings, got all the Internet talking, etcera, etcera, blah blah blah. I told them I'd give them ratings. So here goes."

"What the fuck do I have left to prove, Johnny? Why am I even here anymore? You played the prominent role in sucking every last ounce of joy out of this company, with the introduction of The Family. You simply could not leave well enough alone. You had to prove to Big Evil that you were the draw. That you were the top dog."

"You once told me to keep your name out of my mouth. What the fuck are you gonna do about it now, Mr. Karisma? Nudge me off a goddamn cliff with your wheelchair? You single-handedly fucked up everything I love in my life--my job, my home life with the bullshit hours I had to put in to keep The Family from bulldozing every decent person in this company, and my friend Tara Shannon, who you put into the frying pan...the fire...and in the middle of the Tienanmen Square tanks that are Ryan Murdoch and Gogz--you single-handedly fuck all this up, and I'm supposed to care about a Title now...?"

"Let's cut the modesty crap. You poll 100 guys in the business, and 99 are gonna tell you that I'm the best damn wrestler in this company. So, Johnny, tell me from your be-wheelchaired state...what do I have left to prove? I've beaten Big Evil, I've beaten Gogz on the biggest stage in this industry, I've beaten Halo, I've beaten Murdoch, I've beaten Plus, I've beaten eXponent, I've beaten Kid Disturbed, I've beaten Cobain, I've beaten Josh Dean, I've beaten Storm, Bobby Mitchell, Jonathan Night, Dan Sorbello, and Phenetic. I would whoop Harmony's ass if you put her in front of me..."

"Oh. And I've beaten you."

"So, again, when I lose a woman like Tara Shannon and a young talent from this company like eXponent...what do I have left for which to wrestle?"

"The atmosphere? My main man Chain is doing God knows what, on the outs from all the little birdies I hear, my friend Dan is focused--rightly so--on raising his baby girl and treating his wife right, Andy Chills and Simon hang together constantly, eXpo's gone, and most everyone else is either a vile prick or someone I'm not close to."

"The wrestling? Johnny, you ran the ship of Meltdown on shore by first being a shitty General Manager, and then leaving us WITHOUT one. So two for two on the fuck-up scale, there. Am I not supposed to say these things about a former wrestler? Am I not supposed to tell the truth because I'm the 'nice guy' here in BQWA?"

"FUCK. THAT. I am sick and tired of playing Little Orphan Annie. The Sun will NOT come out tomorrow, because your idiocy SNUFFED OUT your Sun's--my friend's--wrestling career. How does that feel, Johnny? To know that the ONE time you don't fuck up royally in your career, the ONE time you get someone so out of your league, you STILL manage to screw it all up."

"See, Gogz and Murdoch mocked you because they hated that your love was pure. They hated the fact that someone could find a measure of love and salvation in another person. They don't understand that connection, they literally don't. It is like electricity hitting rubber for them, it just does not register."

"I understand that kind of love, Johnny. I don't hate you for that. I hate you because you were too fucking stupid to realize that love like that does NOT mix with psychopaths and men who beat the hell out of each other for a living. You brought her into this, and you got her taken out on a stretcher that matched yours."

"What do I have left to prove, Johnny? Tell me why I shouldn't smother you with this fucking belt like I've wanted to do a few times since I won it again and started thinking?"

"You're the only guy I've legitimately despised in my time here at BQWA, Johnny. Phenetic was and is a fucking junkie child that I went out on a limb for about 17 times too many. Murdoch is no more man than Terminator, and I don't hate machines. I barely even try to understand them. Gogz is a prick, but he never made any bones about it. He was always malicious and straightforward and brutal...but always, always like that. Never anything too complicated. Just a nasty sonofabitch. Big Evil? Just a hybrid of Gogz and Murdoch, really, all of their bad parts and a couple of good parts of his own. He was always straightforward, too, and if I had a problem with him I'd punch him in his fucking mouth and we'd kill each other in the ring."

"But you, Johnny, you're the only guy who ever tried to be a puppet master. And that shit is what angers me above all else. Big Evil? No. He was barely a leader of men in The Featured Attraction and the EWA redux. Those were vanity projects. Those were expressions of ego and hubris, not the will to CONTROL. The will to dominate other wrestlers, sure, but never to CONTROL them. Big Evil just wanted to beat the shit out of anyone who get in his way and reign supreme as King of BQWA. You, Johnny, you wanted to manipulate. Big wants to destroy people, Simon Swinger wants to piss them off, Andy Chills wants to out-wrestle them, and Chain wants to live out a dream..."

"You just wanted to manipulate. And you fucked that up, too. End result is you and your beau in wheelchairs. Congratulations, moron."

"What's the State of our Federation, folks? Reasonably fucked up, since Johnny stuck his hands into it like a retarded Dr. Frankenstein to try and manipulate that which he had no business trying to touch and mold."

"Going forward, you want some happiness and some positive talk? Here's some."

"One on one, in a big match atmosphere, I am un...stoppable. And if you don't believe me, ask Bobby Mitchell, Big Evil, Johnny Karisma, and Gogz."


"Andy Chills, Plus, Simon Swinger."

"Prove. Me. Wrong."

"The State of our Federation sucks right now. But I'm Champion again, so it will suck much, much less."

"There's your ratings, Corporate. Now give me someone to fucking fight."

Fade out.

The words of Alex Kingman, aka Colossus, do not necessarily represent the views of BQWA, its sister companies, its sponsors or potential sponsors, or the Lord Jesus Christ Almighty. The BQWA works tirelessly with advocates of the differently-abled.
Edited by BrahmaBull10, Aug 10 2009, 12:58 AM.
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Big Tuna
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The Master and Ruler Of The World

That was awesome. I'd do a retort, but I already promo'd today (plug. "Their Story. Naturally.), and will be editing MD soon.

For the record, I'd be more than happy to prove you wrong given a date, time, and proper PPV format for such a colossal swinging encounter.
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Chain
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Killed Phenetic & Probably Andy Chills
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Holy Shit. punk'd.
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Ford
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You seem unhappy. I like that.

"Should've killed you when I had the chance..."

The sneering visage of one Ryan Murdoch lights up the screen. If you couldn't tell from the last two evening's events...he's more than just a little pissed. The man's been a ticking time bomb, seething with ever-present rage for months now....rage that has driven him to torture, to violate, to maim and cripple, to terrorize without mercy. But beneath all that, there was always a direction, a prime focus...a hidden desire that guided every action, forced every malicious movement to it's dire end...but in the wake of the events of Immortals, and Meltdown...Ryan Murdoch is a different man. A changed man.

There is no vision now. No plan. No Gogz, no Halo, no Sex and Violence.

For Ryan Murdoch, there is only chaos.

Pure, unerring, malevolent, chaos.


"Let's all shed a tear for dear Colossus. His precious girl-on-the-side got stupid and got her neck snapped, and he's never been the same. Oh, what woe he must endure!

Fuck you, you capricious little shit.

You want to find out what real suffering is? I'll show you. I'll show you gladly. I make every agonizing second you've spent shedding tears over the crippled body of Tara Shannon seem like a lifetime of joy and merriment. Do you understand me? It'll be me, and me alone. Not Gogz. Not Halo.

And certainly not Johnny fucking Karisma.

That's what makes me so fucking sick about you, Colossus. You bitch and you moan and you shake your fist in anger at poor little Johnny...You place the noose around his neck for a crime he had no hand in. Sure, Johnny may have opened the door, may have given me the keys to get inside...

...but he never had a clue what he was dealing with. WHO he was dealing with. None of them did. When I looked down from that top rope...when I saw those tears streaming down that little whore's cheeks....the sheer horror in her eyes...I smiled. I smiled for the first time in ten years, Alex. I smiled not because I was accomplishing a task set out for me by some higher power, not because I was executing someone else's divine mandate...I smiled because I was giving that whore what she deserved. I smiled because when I heard her neck snap beneath my weight...I could look up, and see the fire in Johnny Karisma's eyes fade to nothingness. I smiled because finally, after all these years, I WAS IN CONTROL.

You want to blame someone, Colossus? You want to point a finger? You want to know why you lay awake every night, wondering why you even bother going on in this business? It's not because of The Family. It's not because of Johnny Karisma.

It's because of me.

I made the choice to shatter your dearest friend's neck. Just like I made the choice to make Johnny part of a matching set of worthless cripples just a few weeks later. Just like I bloodied Atkie...like I terrorized Kate Harrison and Big Evil's family...Just like I dragged Greg Atkins right back down here in the shit with the rest of us."

He smirks, behind wild, savage eyes, the grin leaving as quickly as it came.

"And now Gregory's back to his old tricks again. Demanding title shots, puffing his chest out like King Shit of Fuck Mountain...that's just for starters. Next comes the neglect, the hurtful words...the drinking, the using...he'll be slapping poor pregnant Katie around in no time!"

A malevolent snicker.

"See, pinned or not...I still win. The old Big Evil comes back, and dearest Gregory loses everything that matters to him because of his own ignorant, selfish behavior. Big Evil still dies cold, alone, and miserable.

And for what it's worth, Colossus, thank you for accepting his challenge. See, Greg needs that brass ring. He needs it more than life itself. It's the one thing that defines him. And when you beat him--and you will beat him, I have no doubts about that--he'll just dig in deeper, and struggle even harder to get back on top again. He'll bury himself in old habits, in the old Big Evil...and then? I win.

Hear that, Greg?

Even without pinning your shoulders to the mat...

I STILL WIN, GREG!

...The better man always does."

Another snicker.

"But I digress from my point. That being, dear Colossus...a matter of reciprocation.

See, you have some things that belong to me. Some things that are rightfully mine. Two shiny golden trinkets your filthy hands should have never had the opportunity to touch. Two titles given, but unearned. A world championship held out of my reach unjustly for far too long...and a tag team championship I never lost.

By the way...if my name was Simon Swinger, or Andy Chills...I'd be on my knees tonight praying to whatever Gods I worshipped for protection. You disrespected me...

....And it will NOT be taken lightly. I promise.

But again, I digress. Back to the matter at hand. Reciprocation, as it were. You have two things that belong to me, Colossus...and I want them. I want them in the worst way. I'll do whatever I have to...WHATEVER IT TAKES...to get them. I think by now you realize what exactly that entails."

A predatory glare.

"And now, I'm sure you're asking yourself: "So he wants my belt. Could've seen *that* coming. But what's in it for me? What's in it for Colossus?" And you'd be right to ask. I've been called alot of things, but unfair has never been one of them. So what's in it for you, Alex? Simple.

I can give you what months of screaming and decrying the name of Johnny Karisma never, ever could. I can give you what you've wanted ever since the night you sat by your precious Tara's bedside and promised her you'd never give in.

Closure.

You want to put that righteous fury to use? You want to do what's right for your fallen friend? You want to be the shining, iconic example of good finally triumphing over the wickedness of man? I can give it all to you, on a silver platter. It won't give you your friend back...but it's as close as you'll ever, ever come.

I can give you what you need, Colossus...and all I'll take in return is 16 plus pounds of leather and gold. Gold that's rightfully mine.

And then, when you're lying there, bleeding...watching them raise my bloodied and battered hand in victory...you'll have your closure, Colossus. You'll have beaten me to a bloody pulp, you'll have gone to war for your friend, you'll have fought the good fight...

...And died, like all good heroes do."

Smirk.

"And then, dear boy, the only person you'll have to blame...

Is yourself."

-fin-


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TURNCOAT
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Whoa. Solid from Colossus, but what a follow up by Ford. Absolutely DRIPPING with venom there, I loved it.

Colossus/Murdoch feud plz
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Dusty Wolfe
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Seriously, give that man the title. Solid from Col, but absolutely stunning follow-up.
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The Magic Rat
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If I could ever be half the heel Ford is, I'd consider myself a success. You two are fucking amazing and thos proves it. Awesome shit, keep it up fellas
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Chain
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If I could have my neck broken by anyone it would have to be ford. Awesome follow up.
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Andy Bernard
I am a rube of the highest order

After a bold statement from the World Champion and a venomous follow up from Ryan Murdoch the crowd expects to see someone like Big Evil, Gogz, or A Plus light up the screen. But no, they get Verne Gagne Memorial Champion Andy Chills. Mind you, this is the same man who at the last SOTF came up through the ground and made a mockery out of the entire event. But this isn’t the same man as last time. This is a man who just walked through Hell and back to beat eXponent. This is a man who just stood toe to toe with Sex and Violence and very well may have cost them their tag team championships. And now, that man has something to say.

Oh boy.

Nobody’s excited.


“Jesus Ryan. Can I even call you Ryan? I figure we’re on a first name basis since you once maimed my best friend and I just embarrassed you on Meltdown, so I’ll call you Ryan. But Jesus Ryan, that was harsh. Like, that was really fucking mean. You’re just so full of hate. And you might say you want your tag team titles back but really you just want a damn world title shot.

Too bad you’re not in Colossus’ league.”

Woah. Did he just go there?

The collective gasps of every wrestling fan in the country can be heard from space as fans fully understand what Andy just said.


“Oh, I went there.

Because you come out here, and you demand to have what’s rightfully yours. You run your mouth, demand your titles back, and run what’s basically a glorified scare tactic to try and get Colossus to bend to your wants. But that’s not going to happen Ryan. Not at all. Sure, you’re one intimidating guy, but what have you really done? You claim to have brought Big Evil down into the dirt, but at Immortals you were the one standing tall.

What do you have Ryan? You beat Maxwell for the International Title and then you were beaten by a janitor a few weeks later? You win the tag team titles and then lose them in what might as well have been your very first defense? As far as accomplishments in this company go, you don’t have any.

But let’s look at the flipside of the coin Ryan. I’m the first ever two time International Champion in the business. I’ve won the tag team championships twice. I’m a two time Custom Champion and the match I just won it in is being called a match of the year contender. I’ve beaten Big Evil, eXponent, Johnny Karisma, A Plus, and yes, even you. I main evented a pay-per-view against Charles Everton, one of the greatest world champions of all times, and took him to the edge and back. I’m heralded as a future world champion, and the future of this company.

You? You’re nothing.

You’re a roided up guy that has daddy issues and just takes it out on the people around him. And Ryan, you can do whatever you want to me. I’ve been through your game before. Beat me up backstage, beat me up in the ring, it’s nothing I haven’t experienced. Please, try and scare me and soon realize that you can’t do it anymore. Whatever you threaten me with will not phase me. I play the underdog game to a tee now. I take a beating but I always come back. And that’s not going to change.

Yes, I probably cost your titles. Maybe I even embarrassed you. But you know what, that’s what happens sometimes. So stop your fucking complaining. If you want a match, you’ve got one. Because I’m not fucking scared of you.”

A pause here, because it’s a good place for one.

“And Colossus, I respect the hell out of you. Really, I do. You’re a great guy backstage and one hell of a competitor in the ring. But be careful what you wish for. You claim that you’re the best big match wrestler in the BQWA, but I’ve beaten just as many names as you, and I’ve done it on some damn big stages. You and I may as well be the same wrestler, except you’ve got the world title around your waist, and I’m just remembering a guy who’s still alive

Colossus, I can sing your praises all day. But you can’t say that you can’t be stopped, until you’ve wrestled them all or you’ve been through what I have. I’ve almost broken my neck at two Immortals in a row, but I’ve still been able to win both times. I’ve beaten future hall of famers, and current hall of famers. I’ve taken more beatings than any red headed stepchild or wrestler in this company. And unlike either of those groups, I always come back for more, better and stronger than I was the last time.

So Colossus, be prepared for when the day finally comes. Because when Andy Chills and Colossus finally main events like it rightfully should, not only will we tear the fucking house down, but you’ll be losing your belt.

And Ryan, like I said, if you want a match, just ask for one.”

Scene fade as Andy awaits potential verbal murder from both Colossus and Ryan Murdoch.

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Big Tuna
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The Master and Ruler Of The World

response to all of yalls coming before I go to sleep. Which could be any time in the next 5 hours for all I fucking know. Enjoyed Murdoch's piece the most so far.
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Phenetic
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Killed BQ
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“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Who’s sleepin on me here?”

The crackhead appears on the screen still visibly upset at Immortals and the past events of Meltdown. Freshly kicked out of BQWA Headquarters, he managed to catch the SOTF 2 promo that Colossus did along with Ryan and Andy, making him even more upset. He rubs his face for a brief moment, trying to collect some sort of words after hearing two amazing promos and an atrocious attempt by the retard meat of BQWA. Phenetic smirks into the camera as he proceeds on talking.

“See that’s a bad move Andy, I hear you running your mouth about how you’re the biggest future star in this company. The problem with me right now is that I have been thinking way too much to find some kind of reason that makes you a valuable asset to this company. I’ve been thinking so much that thinking has become redundant. I mean come on, if your head was any farther up Colossus’ ass, you’d be looking right out of his mouth with that ugly, ogrish grin of yours. Is it for sympathy for when the god awful match up of you and Colossus go one on one so that Alex doesn’t totally decimate you in front of your fans? Or maybe it’s because you can slither your way into the limelight and get a title shot? I mean, according to you, you are a future world champion…”

“Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on.”

A brief chuckle by the former Primetime Champion.

“I mean come on, you want to run your mouth about how much you run through opponents, well news flash dipshit: You still haven’t beaten me. How about we flash back to Immortals VI, who had Tristriam Fox locked in the submission before the match ended? Oh yea me, where were you? Getting your face stomped in by Daniel Sorbello. Who had to pick up your slack in Patron Saints? I did. Who did you beat to take away MY Custom Championship? It should as hell wasn’t me. Face it, I carried your ass since the day I got here, and you have nothing to show that you are your own man.”

“When you rolled in with Patron Saints, who did Whacko decide to mentor afterwards? Was it the bright shining star named Andy Chills? Nope, he recognized real talent and took ME under his wing. But we all know how much of a son you are to Biggie, how close you two are, how tight you’ve been since EWA. So naturally you’d be his favorite, right?”

A sly smirk by Phenetic.

“Guess again.”

“Who did Biggie decide to train personally? Who did Biggie want to continue on at the top after him? Was it the glorified spot man Andy Chills? Nope, once again a veteran recognized real talent and took me under his wing. You want to say you rolled with the best, about how you’ve worked with them? Fine, but who did they dump to the side like a crippled homeless man? You so they could simply replace you with the better upgrade: Me.”

Phenetic laughs for a brief moment, remembering a few things from the past.

“You’re the same guy who owes Atkie $10,000, got his dick sucked by Trish Evil … twice and got herpes both times, then you partnered with King David. Yea that’s right, King David, the same guy who is promoting for Wrestling Society, the same piece of fuck federation that Diablo is running. You’re old partner is wrestling for BQWA’s version of Eugene. Now you have the audacity to call out Murdoch because he isn’t in Colossus’ league but you somehow are?”

A loud psh from Phenetic who is visibly disgusted and shocked.

“Fuck you Andy, you’re not in my league.”

It seems as if the camera is about to fade, but Phenetic holds up his hand to stop the camera.

“I’m not done yet, I wills ay something to Colossus: I’m done. I don’t have anything else to say to you, I don’t have any problems you with anymore. But as for you Murdoch, I could call you a monotone robot bitch, I could make fun of you for being writing like Tyler Black, I could make fun of you for a lot of things, but who wants to go around the same cycle again and again?”

“That is what normally happens with you right? I mean you try to act like a sadistic monster, but in reality you are some punk who writes the says the same damn stuff day in and out. It’s always the same biblical bullshit with you, and it got annoying 3 years ago, why bother coming back anyways? I thought you killed yourself for losing to Jason Storm and Gogz? Come on, when you can’t even lock a victory over someone like Jason Storm or even one victory over a janitor, then something is wrong with you. Granted I lost at Immortals, but at least I put the chump down at Resurrection. You, on the other hand, just got your ass handed to you.”

Phenetic stops for a moment, letting out a laugh before trying to continue on.

“I know you’re looking at the screen with the big huge Grizzly Adams beard you grew with your hair-roids. But what’s more absurd is the fact that you’ll end up throwing a hissy fit and leave due to “creative differences” like the other 6, 7, 8 times you’ve done it. You’re a joke, simple as that. Things don’t go your way, you up and leave because that’s the kind of punk bitch you are, I’m surprised you even stuck around this long without upping and leaving. But I will agree with Andy on one thing here, you aren’t in Colossus’ league, not mine…”

“Not Big Evil’s.”

“Not Andy’s.”

“Not A Plus’.”

“Not even Jason Storm’s.”

“Pray that Everton or the new GM doesn’t let me back into BQWA, because if I return, havoc will wreak.”

Phenetic knocks the camera down to be a dick and walks off, trying to sneak back into the building.
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Big Tuna
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The Master and Ruler Of The World

"Clean that stage off. I'm serious. I'm not getting up there until you sweep and spray his shit stench off of the podium."

Aw yeah. Simon Swinger in this bitch. He gets up from his place next to Andy Chills, Maxwell Starbux, and for some reason, Dolph Lundgren. Wearing a suit, he confidently walks to the stairs of the stage. The janitors clean that shit off. Not Chain though, unfortunately. The janitors file off and Simon nods at them. Walks up onto the stage and podium.

"That's better. Just got a few comments I want to address. I'll go in order of importance from least to greatest."

"I'm not entirely sure how everyone's least favorite crackhead managed to get on here without security tackling him again. You know, since he quit and shit. But hey, Charles Everton is generally wildly incompetent and corrupt, so I can't expect any kind of consistency from a guy who was brought in to restore law and order, and has seen attacks in parking lots, a fucking SWAT team being brought in, a match at Immortals nearly being a murder, and who booked a four corners tag 100% guaranteed to devolve into complete chaos."

"Anyways, Phen actually did fine here. Maybe fucking up and quitting was necessary to light a fucking fire under him, who knows? Gotta admire the set of balls on him, in a completely figurative way. Comparing Ryan Murdoch to Tyler Black? Sweet jesus, you best walk quietly the next time you sneak into an arena. Doesn't seem like exactly a wise career move. But hey, neither does becoming a massive cocaine addict and quitting in a fit of rage after you couldn't beat Chain."

Simon merely shrugs it off. Straightening the tie, naturally.

"Next up, we've got my buddy Andy Chills. I'm proud that you didn't blow a hole in the stage, but that's largely irrelevant to my point. Don't go taking all the credit for supposedly costing Sexy Violence those nice tag titles. Which, as this doesn't fit into any of my other pieces, we do have our eyes set on. Andy, you didn't do it on your own."

"Like it or not, we happen to make one hell of a team. We might be an odd couple, but goddamnit, we're a highly functional high amount of chemistry having odd couple."

"It takes two to tango, yes. Common phrase. What many of you might not know is that it actually has a second part, but it's not one you often here. The full phrasing is "It takes two to tango, but it also takes two to perform a Stereo Tope Suicida." True story. If I may say so, it was a damn fine Stereo Tope Suicida, but I do happen to be rather biased. I suppose you could ask Gogzington how my side of it felt though, and since he's some 16 pounds lighter, I'd say it worked pretty damn well."

Simon puts that notecard down, and looks down. He gets an odd look on his face, as he examines the ones in front of him.

"Screw it. I made State in speech six to seven years ago. I bet none of you motherfuckers have ever done that, right? Yeah, I don't need notecards for these last two."

He tosses them to the side, and returns back to the speech.

"I said earlier that we went in importance from least to greatest, but since I'm now speaking from the heart, or a combination of heart and brain, that's not true. My bad. If I did that, then Colossus would go last, but for the importance of a solid flow and being smooth as shit, he's going here."

"Congratulations. See? I can be a sportsman. Congrats on the title, and I'm sorry you're so damn angry at the cripple. Can't exactly empathize with your situation, but I also can't say I've ever had a female best friend fall in love with my boss who I hate, who also palled around with sociopaths who then crippled both of them. Not a common situation, by any means."

Simon can only briefly grimace and look off to the side. Can't really be sympathetic here, it'd be phony as shit.

"Anyways, I'm not up here to make an American flag come down from the ceiling and say that Change has come to America. Been there, done that. This time, I'm not a cocky newcomer who does comedy. I mean, I still do enjoy a good joke and happen to take pleasure in fucking with people who deserve it, but that's not why I'm here."

"I want to challenge you. Simple as that. You say you want, nay, NEED competition. You say you've beat everyone. Okay, fair point, if not factually accurate.

You haven't beaten me."

Simon nods his head, accepting something in his head.

"Now, I know that's not exactly some big bold statement, like I'm a dude who's been here as long as you have and we've never met or I've beaten you a bunch or anything, but shit. It's still a completely valid claim. I'm not going to issue a massive threat with some bullshit veil of "getting closure" or whatever. I haven't fucked with your family or been here long enough like Andy to have this list of people I've beaten.

What I will do is stand up here like a man, and say I want a title match. I want to be BQWA World Champion.

Nothing personal.

You're just in the way."

This is not typing like Tyler Black, btdubz.

"I can hear people saying, "Hey Simon? What the fuck? You just got here, wait in line, broseph." "

He just shakes his head.

"No.

If I want something, and I feel I'm capable of achieving it, why wait? Sure, I get that you've got a title match with Big Evil scheduled, and hell, I respect that.

Should be a fine match.

Man to man, I just think you should be aware that I'm waiting for the winner."

New subject, as alerted to us by Simon turning to the other side of the room with a smile.

"I feel that my time will soon become occupied as well."

And finally...

"Ryan Murdoch."

"You hold Andy and I responsible, and say we should pray to the Gods of our choice."

Simon turns back to the other camera, and nods his head.

"You see, because he's implying he'll murder us. It'd be a hell of scare tactic to use if I was a cowardly little bitch who was afraid of the big bad giant with the beard and the aggressive streak. I'm assuming Andy isn't frightened by it either, and if he is, I'm pretty goddamned ashamed of him."

Simon slowly shakes his head to the side.

"A big teddy bear. A cute cuddly little teddy bear beneath all this GRR ARGLE FUCKING BARGLE I HATE FAGGOTS JESUS I WILL MURDER YOU GOD.~ bullshit that he's cultivated to try and make everyone think he's some kind of badass sociopathic murderer.

He's not. But you fine people all knew that, I hope. They're just words. The truth of the matter is that he preys on weak people. When he crippled Tara Shannon, she suffered from a moment of weakness in trying to save her phone pal Johnny, and didn't realize the enormous stupidity of running down to the ring with three highly trained world class wrestlers bent on destruction while she was already injured, and they had injury on the mind. When Johnny got injured, he was a complete shell of the man he was, and didn't have the fight. He'd quit his job, lost the friendship of a man who he considered to be his best friend, and simply didn't have the will to fight back."

What the fuck are you doing, Simon?

"There's always been a saying about prison, and I think it holds true here as well. The idea is that to really establish yourself, early on, you find the biggest, toughest, meanest and most dominant guy you can, and you make your name on his expense."

Simon surveys the crowd.

"It's a damn fine idea."

A simple nod of the head, and a smirk creeps in.

"Unfortunately, both Big Evil and Colossus were occupied"

Oh shit. Jesus. Just put the mic down.

"Ryan, old buddy. You want to talk shit about how you'll murder us if you ever see us? That's great.

We're not going anywhere. Well, I mean, I'm going back to my seat, but logistically, Andy and I will remain in the BQWA. We're not hard to find, if you want to actually threaten and try to hurt people who aren't weak emotionally and physically crippled shells of once proud wrestlers."

Simon goes to leave, but turns back.

"Oh, best of luck to Colossus in his title defense against Gogz. No need for that faggot to disgrace the title again."

Simon walks off stage, whistling. Perhaps not fully aware of what the fuck he's just done, or maybe he just doesn't care. Either is frightening, quite frankly.
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Big Evil
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On TBS. Very Funny.

The cold, refreshing sound of an ice cold beer opening up is heard in the back of this dimly lit, but obviously large enough to hold random amounts of people who apparently appear and dissapear at the drop of a dime. This faint sound is loud enough, however, to cause the entire room full of superstars and degenerates to turn around and see who the guilty party is, just who in the hell is opening an alcoholic beverage during a time like this?

Big Evil: ...What?

Everyone's eyes are locked hard on the Living Legend. He slowly sips his fresh can of Budweiser, looking around, chugging longer and longer until people's eyes move away from him. But alas, he runs out of beer. He puts the can to the side, takes his forearm across his mouth to wipe away the extra foam. He sees that everyone is still looking at him; some from annoyance, some from intrigue. He shrugs his shoulders and steps forward.

Big Evil: Well if that's my cue to talk, then fair enough.

Evil marches up to the front of the room. He looks around, surveying the room quite well.

Big Evil: Why don't we all call this what is is? This is a bitch session. This is also a chance for everybody to bitch about the giant whale in the room, and I don't mean Harmony. I mean the fact that me, Big Evil, of all people, is getting a World Title shot.

Grow up, people. I mean come on. Don't worry about who I'm facing, don't worry about who Colossus is facing. Everyone wants a shot at the World Title. That's everyone's one goal for someday. But right now? It's not your turn. The champ has the last call...

Did he pick me because I'd be a great challenge, an awesome opponent and we'd make tons of money together?

Of course he did.

Did he pick me because he thinks I'll be easy, a roll over, someone he can scoot by quickly while still receiving a paycheck?

Of course he did. If he truly believes that, then good for him. I've always supported the mentally handicap. But it's not that crazy, if you think about it. Maybe he can beat me easily? It's his choice..

That's why I faced A+ for a year straight.

Because it was easy.

You can't hate on somebody for taking it easy, especially after the stuff he's went through. I mean afterall, if I lost MY World Championship to a mutated cunt with legs? Why, I don't even think I'd be able to get out of bed in the morning, let alone still wrestle!

Colossus is fuming mad, but out of respect of the SOTF, he keeps his cool. Big Evil notices this and smirks. He takes a minute to survey the room again, he sees he has everybody's attention now, so he goes for the kill.

Big Evil: This should be a meeting of the minds. This should be a celebration. Because this is the greatest group of athletes ever assembled under the BQWA banner. Instead, we've got Colossus still hung up on what happened with Johnny Karisma and Tara Shannon. We get it, they're crippled. We've moved on. Hell, from the looks of it, so have Johnny & Tara! You need to get a life, pal. This has always been your problem, and I told you this a long time ago, back when I was still retired, that you need to learn to let shit go.

Of course, I'm a hypocrite because just as soon as I tell you to leave me out of your fucking mouth, boom, there I am as your number one contender.

I digress...

Then you've got Ryan Murdoch coming in here, you've got that fucking plush toy coming in here, red in the face, wet in the pants and more sociopathic than ever screaming a bunch of huge words in hopes that somehow, somebody will understand what he's saying, and tell him so he can know how angry he's acting.

You don't seem to understand that you didn't win, literally or figuratively, at Immortals. You got your ass whooped. And yeah, I'm back on the road. But that's not going to have any effect on my life. Because this time, I'm not married to a cunt..

And Andy Chills? Honestly dude? I mean, fuck, I've bent over backwards for you for HOW long? You still have a fucking job because of me. I'VE MAIN EVENTED IMMORTALS, BITCH. WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?!

You come in here and you run your mouth, you think you're some fucking big shit now because you won the "Custom Title"...Let me get that right, "Custom Title", equals you being a tough guy now?

I love you to death, but shut the fuck up. You didn't even stick up for me when the other two school yard bullies came in here spouting off at the mouth. So, thanks for that.

Phen, I know you got kicked out and all again, but -- god damn -- Son, you need to lay off whatever fucking drug it is you're doing now. OR, up the doseage, because when some of these guys get out of here, and get ahold of you for what you just spewed up, you're going to need to be comfortably numb, and I ain't talkin' about the song.

And finally, Simon Swinger. What a character. A legit guy, a straight shooter -- I like him. He knows how to have a good time, and he knows when to be serious. He does his "serious, grown up words" in the ring, like it should be done.

But to claim you're ready for a World Championship shot?

I'll pass...

I got all the respect in the world for you and what you've done here in the BQWA, and in other places. But this ain't about amount of time spent here or talent you've been able to display. It's about getting what you want by simply -- taking it.

You all sit in here and you bitch this time every year, you complain about not being the World Champion in one way or another, but none of you have the balls to just reach up and grasp it.

That's why I gotta respect people like Gogz, even though it makes me sick to respect a half a faggot, because at the Mind Games, he knew what he needed to do, so he began the betrayal of Johnny Karisma by making the World Title vacant. Then, at the Rumble, he planted the seeds for perhaps the greatest, and most shocking, Rumble win of all-time.

He saw the brass ring. He saw others reaching for it, but they kept on hesitating. So he reached right ahead of them, said 'fuck you', and took it.

I didn't even need to do that. I went out to that ring the other night to tell the people I was going home for a bit, and the fuckin' 'brass ring' came lowering down to me.

You all hate me, the fans don't know what to do with me, but this company needs me.

You needed me when the roster was over flown with talent and they needed a new place to go.

You needed me when your brand of wrestling needed extra spice, so you had me turn it 'Extreme'.

You needed me when your World Champion's just weren't cutting it, so for ten months, I reigned.

You've needed me since January 3rd, 2006, the day I signed my contract to this place, and quite frankly, it's only gotten better because of me.

I'm not a bad guy, I'm not a good guy, I'm just me.

That should be scary enough for you.

Evil hops down off the stage and doesn't make eye contact with anybody at this point. He goes back to his seat in the back of the room, sits down, takes out a can of Skoal, takes a pinch out, puts it in his lip, and begins spitting it into an empty cup next to him, letting the tobacco flow into his bloodstream, and relax him for now.

More fire was on the way, he just didn't know what direction it was coming in next...
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Chain
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Killed Phenetic & Probably Andy Chills
[ *  *  * ]
Chain comes staggering through the door drunk as all hell just as Bigs finishes his spill. He stumbles through smoke in one hand and a turkey in the other, his International title still missing in action.

Chain: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Everyone turns around and stares at him in disgust for interrupting the proceedings.

Chain: What?

One of the janitors who so kindly helped out Simon before hurries over to update Chain on what is actually taking place. He whispers.

Janitor: Chain, buddy, maybe you should call it a night huh?

Chain: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Still whispering.

Janitor: You are interrupting Colossus' SOTF. We have heard from him, Murdoch, Andy, Phentic, Swinger and Big Evil.

Chain: Ok got it. You can have a seat over there then.

Chain points to a vacant seat next to Murdoch who doesn't at all look happy for a low life janitor to be seated next to him.

Chain: Go on, it'll be fine.

The janitor walks over while Murdoch glares at him and takes the seat next to him. Murdoch looks him up and down.

Chain: Right. Only going to be a second here guys.

Chain is swaying, left to right.

Chain: Has anyone here seen Bobby Mitchell.

A confused look spreads through out the room. Colossus eventually breaks the silence.

Colossus: What are you talking about Chain?

Chain: That fuck stole my title and I am going around to a friends place for dinner and wanted to impress him by wearing my title.

Colossus: Chain, this is not the place nor the time.

Chain: So you are all saying you have not seen Bobby Mitchell.

Colossus although playing it cool at first becomes slightly outraged at the interuption.

Colossus: NO. Now either sit down or leave.

Chain: Ok... ok.... my bad. But if anyone does see him let us know.

Chain turns and staggers back out the door. Just as the door is about to close it swings quickly back open and Chain pops his head through the gap.

Chain: OH YEAH, AND I WANT A SHOT AT THAT TITLE
Edited by Chain, Aug 11 2009, 07:37 PM.
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Dusty Wolfe
Enhancement Talent
[ *  *  * ]
When you say Ford, you mean Murdoch, right? :TEHNEWNINJA~!:
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Chain
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Killed Phenetic & Probably Andy Chills
[ *  *  * ]
Hahaha fuck. yeah. fixed.
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TURNCOAT
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Guys I'm shaking
[ *  *  * ]
Disrespect the title?

Oshit. The (now former) World Heavyweight Champion's voice cuts through the stunned silence that was left in Chain's wake. Clearly still hurting over his double title loss, he stands up and looks around the room and he just can’t mask his distaste for everyone he’s sharing said room with. He slowly walks to the podium and the silence keeps so his unamplified voice can be heard.

Mister Swinger, ah’ve never had a beef wi’ ye before. In fact ah’ve been highly complimentary towards yersel’. So wi’ that in mind, ah’d like tae ask jus’ whit the fuck yer smokin’?

Ye say me an’ Murdoch prey on the weak. The scared. Those too afraid tae…tae fight back.


He takes his position at the podium, planting his hands firmly at each side and leaning forward like a particularly fire-and-brimestone-heavy Revival Priest, and his voice (now aided by the microphones) fills the hall.

Pride comes before a fall. Ye wanna spout all this crap like gospel because ye won a match against a kid whose head clearly wisnae in the game? Because ye brawled wi’ the most dominant tag-team in BQWA history fir a minute or two an’ cost us the titles? Because ye tricked a cripple intae signin’ that ridiculous contract?

Naw. Swinger, yer a good kid but ah swear tae God that if ye keep runnin’ yer mouth the way ye are, we will slaughter ye. We will kill ye. Yer wee partner? Andy? Yeah. Hi. Remember all those times ye’ve been starin’ up at the ceilin’ courtesy o’ me? All those times in this company, in other companies, all over the world? Maybe next time ye decide tae stand up an’ run yer mouth, ye’ll think back an’ remember that.

Andy? Simon? Leave well enough alone. Go…go eat yer luthar burgers an’ play wi’ yer dinosaurs or whitever it is ye dae. Jesus, I dunno.


Gogz surveys his “flock”.

Wha’ else was given a mouth by The Lord and decided that gave them divine right tae use it? Phenetic? I’ll keep this one brief.

Gogz clears his throat for this.

Away an’ crawl intae some dumpster an’ die, ye talentless, waster piece o’ shite. Ah might hae mah differences wi’ everyone in this company but ah can safely say ah speak fir everyone when ah say that we’d be quite happy if ye kept good o’ yer promise o’ quittin’. In fact, we’d be quite happy if ye stepped in front o’ a movin’ bus.

We dinnae like ye here.

We dinnae want ye here.

I might no’ like guys like Colossus, guys like Plus, guys like Andy Chills but ye ken whit? They are HONEST. Yersel’, on the other hand…well, ye are a drain on society, an’ when even Mister Goody Good Colossus, an’ ah’ll get tae ye in a minute dinnae worry, has run oot o’ patience fir ye, it’s time tae dae the decent thing an’ take an acid bath. So, again, just in case yer wasted junkie head misinterpreted that, go die in a fuckin’ fire ye cunt.


The audience of peers might not like Gogz but they appreciate the sentiments; fuck you, Phenetic, and we hope one of your family members dies. Moving on.

Who else? Big Evil? Aw man, ah’ve bin doon that road before…me an’ Murdoch both. Ah’ve no desire tae tread old ground and talk about wrestling’s past…other than tae say that when ah take mah title back next week, an’ ah WILL take it back, ah understand ah’ll hae tae go through ye again. That’s fine. Once ah’ve done that, ah’ll take the other bit o’ gold that belongs tae me that dangles fae yer shoulder. Yer a relic o’ a bygone age an’ if ah hae tae consign ye tae the past mahsel’ then so fuckin’ be it.

Why does no one try to make new friends at these things? There is a lot of hate in this room, so much you can almost taste it.

Which leads me, neatly, tae mah partner. Murdoch, ah agree wi’ just aboot everythin’ ye said there…except fir one thing. Ye aimed a lot o’ hate at Colossus an’ said ye were gunnin’ fir his belt. Two things, first off it’s MY belt. Second, when ah crush him next week and take back mah property, it’ll be ME that’s top dog again. So ye want a title match, brother?

Ye got it.

Aye, we’ve got oor differences. Aye, we’re on edge. But ye ken whit? Ah win that belt, ah’ll gie ye that shot…keep it in the Family, eh? Ah mean if ye want to chew up Colossus an’ spit him oot an’ send him tae join the Roller Twins in the hospital, then by all means go ahead an’ ah’ll hold the fucker doon whilst ye dae it…ha ha.


Uncomfortable.

Which leads me, finally, tae Colossus, the man o’ the hour. Ye ken ah kin sit here an’ make excuses, but whit’s the point? Ye beat me fair and square. Well done. Congratulations. Ah mean it only took ye a restarted match, but all is fair in love and war, right?

Smile, applause. Not sure if forced or mocking.

See, ah gather yer still pretty pissed off aboot the poor, crippled whore an’ that’s fine, ah guess. Clearly yer pissed off that her paralysis below the waist means ye hae tae dae all the work and ye cannae hae yer quick shufties up against the bins or whitever it is ye get up tae. So…aye. Ye’ve got mah belt, yer pissed off at Johnny Karisma, blah blah blah. That’s fine, ah guess.

But ah had ye beat at Immortals once…an’ ah damn near had ye beat a second time that night. Oor match was that close. Could’ve went either way, it went yours. Noo next week, we dae it all again. An’ this probably won’t come as shockin’ news, but ah dinnae intend on’ losin’ a third championship match in two weeks. So Colossus, enjoy yer second title reign.

It’ll be a short one.

That title comes back tae Gogz.

Yer other title comes back tae Sex an’ Violence soon enough.

Sex an’ Violence has been on…hiatus. We’ve had a wee break. Next week?


A sick, twisted grin covers his face, contorting it even more.

Next week, we start it all again.

Rape, pillage, loot the village.

Last year, roond aboot this time, we put the BQWA on notice. This year, we’re doin’ the same thing. Consider this yer only warnin’; things are done oor way. No exceptions.

It’s a Sex n’ Violence world. Get the fuck used tae it.

Expect us.


Without another word, Gogz pushes the microphone from the pulpit away and spins on his heel, storming out the door and leaving his words to reverberate around the shell-shocked (but not totally unsurprised) room.
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Exponent
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The Italian Stallion
[ *  *  * ]
Awesome job Colossus, Ford, Andy, Simon, Big Evil, Chain, and Gogz. Real quality stuff here.
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Harmony
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Gogz once fucked a ginger
[ *  *  * ]
Fantastic work boys, really good stuff.
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The Southside Kid
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You know who I am
[ *  *  * ]
“For far too long, all I’ve done is sit by. Sitting quietly by, merely observing if you will. Intently watching every move you make. But you don’t see me. I’m merely an afterthought in all the big scheme of things. But I regress, I need to stay on topic.

What I’ve seen from all of you makes me lucky to hold my lunch down.

The state of this fed…is one of disappointment.

I say disappointment for a variety of reasons. All of you sit and you blame your disappointments on someone else. You try to look in the mirror each day and make peace with the disappointment, because it's not your fault. But what do you really see when you stare in the mirror? What's staring back at you?”

We fade in to see a pair of tan Lugz boots. It’s dark enough for the naked eye to make out the reflection. Rails line our setting, so we know that the owner is seated. The pants that cover the tops of his boots are ruffed and torn. We see him put his hands on his knees. There is a stack of money laying beside his right foot.

“It’s our nature to act this way. We try to mask that disappointment we feel every day. And I can’t be mad at you for that.

Just disappointed.

I’ve been listening to everyone’s claim of being the best. But who are you trying to prove it to?

The Board of Directors?

…the Network…..these people could care less about that. All they care about are ratings. All they care about is what you see beside me. And you tell yourself this lie to give yourself a reason to get up in the morning. But you don't believe it."

He reaches down and picks up the stack of money and flips it around in his hand.

“Money talks…doesn’t it? It talks to us all, making us do things we never thought we would. It’s a voice that we all hear in our heads. It’s that green drug that we know is bad, but the high we get from it clouds our visions.

What disappoints me most is all of you are aware of this.

But you do it anyway, knowing it’s for all the wrong reasons. You sacrifice yourselves to get that high. You alienate the people that you care about for it. You drive yourselves to the bone, putting on the face day in and day out. ”

Reaching toward railing, he pulls himself to his feet. Out of the shadow and into the faint light, do we finally get a glimpse of him. He shakes his head as he raises it. We see the familiar ice blue eyes as they pierce. His face has developed a substantial amount of scruff. We see his shirt torn in multiple regions. It’s understating to stay that this man has lived hard times recently.

“I guess I have to be the one to provide that wakeup call you desperately need.

See when you’ve been where I have and you’ve experienced what I have, you have time to think about these sort of things. You have time to reflect, and see the error of so many people’s ways. Their mistakes make you become stronger.

You become very, very dangerous.

I've heard you talk about loss, talk about taking beatings, and talk about title shots. But things like that don’t matter where I’ve been. “

As he steps fully into the light, we see Josh Dean holding a stack of money. A small smile creeps across his face.

“Survival is the only thing that matters where I’ve been. Getting your next meal matters where I’ve been. And those kinds of things make a man use all of his resources. His brain and his body.

Joe Buckshaw Lawrence looked up one day. And you saw the end result of what he saw on Meltdown.”

He walks over to the railing and looks down over it. We see the empty arena. From this view, it’s evident that Dean is in the rafters. And how long he’s been there is only a guess at this time.

“What you saw was the beginning of a partnership that will not only benefit Joe's agenda, but mine as well. The missing link in the unsolvable puzzle. The truth behind what makes our business go around and around.

It’s the great ones that see it and know how to embrace the high. They know how to keep the high strong and consistent. They’re the ones that know how to gain it, without losing themselves. The great ones know that it’s not about in ring ability, but the ability to make money. The ability to use their mind to make money, and spare their body the pain.

For six months, I’ve sat in the rafters bidding my time, observing my surroundings from a far. And it sickens me to think that you all know pain, that you know loss, that you know helplessness. Because none of you have been where I have. None of you have seen what I’ve seen. None of you have felt what I’ve felt! And until you experience it, you can’t understand.

But you will feel it. And you will understand it. This game we find ourselves in is psychological, not physical. The mentally strong are the only ones that survive.”

Dean takes the stack of money and stuffs it into his pocket.

“Money talks….Those who think enough to listen to it, achieve greatness.”

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