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Blood-Soaked!; Marsham v. Ross: #1 Contendership to IC
Topic Started: Aug 23 2009, 11:46 PM (83 Views)
Justin Marsham
CZW Wrestling God
Blood Soaked
Justin Marsham v. Chris Ross: Number One Contendership To Intercontinental Championship



Scene One: Blood Soaked

Dark, ominous clouds scour the landscape. Video footage opens from atop a skyscraper. The setting is that of a metropolis – the hustle and bustle of the city streets echoing up from below. Lightning illuminates the clouds and the roar of distant thunder warns the world of its presence. It is not long before the pitter-patter of rain drops emerge; and quickly – this calm rain – evolves into a steady down pour.

Droplets of water splatter against the top of a black umbrella. Beneath, an aristocrat and his wife are shielded from the storm. Black raincoats are whipped by the cold wind, but not long touched for the warm embrace of a downtown restaurant welcomes them. Doors are opened by a pair of hostesses and the pair enters with ease, stepping into the random chatter of the patrons.

De La Café – a premier restaurant fashioned after Wolfgang Puck’s cooking and designed by Spain’s foremost trend-setters. Cameras break from the couple and redirect the audience to a large round table. Tables have been treated to small flower arrangements and crystal vases. Glasses of white wine, blackberry brandy and gin and tonics litter the table – both empty and full. Empty plates of food have since been removed and now all those who sit at this table have to digest is each other’s conversation.

Five chairs – evenly spaced beside each other – are occupied by an old professional wrestling alliance. Championship titles, accomplishments and awards reach high into the double digits if counted amongst these five individuals. The camera circles the table, capturing each countenance.

The first is that of Reva Douglas – a face that had not been seen on CZW in a while. She has often been seen on the arm of Justin Marsham and has not competed in singles competition for months. Yet, this has not kept her out of shape. On this night, she wears a simple red dress. Thin straps hang down from her shoulders, unveiling a curvy shape and voluptuous form. Soft, tawny lashes flutter as she smothers a chuckle of laughter.

Attention shifts to the source of her laughter – a subtle remark unheard by the camera – from the lips of The Sensational One. This performer – Steven Slade – is an old tag team partner of Justin Marsham. For nearly a decade he had been known as The Sensational One, but in recent months has shifted his nickname to The Hot Commodity. His brown hair is streaked with blond highlights, flesh tanned to resemble a Caribbean islander and dresses like a GQ model.

More renowned in the Orient than North America, Slade has not wrestled in the United States for several years. A recent spinal injury has forced him to take a hiatus from wrestling and seek out medical assistance. During this break, he has opted to spend some time with the Epitome of Technical Finesse; and he is doing so tonight.

Beside Slade sits the ever-present Man of a Thousand Faces, Agent of the Stars – Solomon Black. His distinct Southern accent taints his voice as he bids a reply to Slade’s joke. A white suit endows him with an undeniable style reminiscent of the aristocrat that entered a while back. Solomon is currently still under a CZW contract, though he has not been seen or heard from for weeks. He is in the final stages of reworking a new contract and meeting with his and CZW’s legal teams. Until then, he has been widely kept from television. But, that does not stop him from continuing his duties as an agent; and though he is an agent, Solomon had once performed in the ring under the moniker Super Nova. That was how he had first met Marsham, joining forces in a faction known as the Inner Circle.

Now, the only Inner Circle that exists is the unspoken friendship between these people. One man who could be seen as a new fixture in this circle of friendship is Moses al-Ashrad. His ebony skin is dark like molasses. When Moses speaks, it becomes clear that Solomon is not the only one at the table with a distinct accent. Moses’ thick South African accent makes his statements hard to understand for those not accustom to him. He is Solomon’s most prized new client, though he performs strictly in Mexico.

The fifth and final person at the table is the one who brings all of these individuals together – Justin Marsham. The ups and downs, highlights, and epic battles of Marsham’s career are well known in CZW. His light blue shirt is unbuttoned two from the collar and his sleeves are rolled up to just below the elbow. Marsham leans towards the table and laughs, his attitude apparently light even despite the loss of his precious championship belt.

Cameras capture the conversation, revealing a table of fun-loving professionals. Yet, little do any of the patrons know what dastardly things these people have done. Furthermore, no one knows of what wicked deeds the subject of this segment – Justin Marsham – has done or will do. A light, soft song by DeVotchKa guides the scene.

Rumbles of thunder rattle the restaurant, but do nothing but forebode the future of CZW. Storms are brewing and by the time Hatewave arrives, it is inevitable that many will be left in utter devastation. Even despite being at a table, surrounded with his friends and fellow colleagues, Marsham cannot help but allow his mind to play.

While a remark from Slade goes uncaptured by the audio, the song fades and Solomon’s proclamation are the first words to be heard. ”I still do not see why you are in a contendership match for a championship that is yours. You should just be handed the match on a silver platter. These damn reviews and contract negotiations. I wish—damn—I just wish I could be doing—”

With a laugh, Marsham retorts, ”In due time. In due time.”

”That was a travesty!” Moses exclaims.

”I lost the title by my own hand. It was my mistake for underestimating El Pablo, trying to battle him at a game of mind games. Next time, he won’t be so lucky. I am just as confident as ever – but there’s no way that belt isn’t going to return to my waist.”

Slade cackles. ”You’ve got a nice match this week though. Remember that bastard?”

”Chris Ross,” mutters Marsham.

Battles with Chris Ross have long been catalogued in the history of CZW. This weekend will add another exciting chapter to that history. Marsham has another opportunity to compete for the Intercontinental Championship; however, to get to that match, he will have to defeat the man who had long been a thorn in his side. There is no telling what will become of the match, especially with such a reward on the line.

Marsham flashes a grin. ”Chris Ross hasn’t wrestled in a while now around here, so I have no intentions of allowing his triumphant return to be all that triumphant. Take Kris Kash for instance. That former Intercontinental Champion whom I so had the pleasure of beating this past week. He wanted to make a return and I wanted to make it sour.”

”So, after this match, your championship shot at Hatewave is guaranteed?” questions Slade.

Solomon quickly answers. ”Yes which was a very well written contract.”

”No stipulations?” Slade continues.

”Not yet,” Solomon answers.

”Enough talk of the future. I’ve made such a damn mess of this championship and landed myself in a predicament where I have to regain it by looking too far into the future. Right now is the most important time. Now – I have to face Chris Ross. Now – I have to beat him. THEN, I can look to El Pablo – all of his Five Star load of shit; and THEN I will regain my belt. This week, though, is a completely different situation. Look at the scars I still have from that war. I still have my wrestling attire from the night of that Last Stand Match; and it remains completely blood soaked still to remind me of that match. Sometimes I think the word war doesn’t do what I experienced justice. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just pure brutality.”

Brutality.

The last match that pitted Marsham against Ross was brutal.

What will this encounter be?

"I haven't really spoken to Ross since we last teamed in that hellacious tag team match, but I can imagine he'll see this as his opportunity to redeem himself in the lime light. After all of those matches we had, we ended up even. I won the matches, but what he cost me was much more: all the physical and emotional pain, lost opportunities. I know he wanted a shot at that Intercontinental belt just as badly as I did. But, look at who it was who won it. Me! Now, it's finally time to see who the best is. This will be the be-all-end-all of my confrontations with Ross. We'll see who'll be standing now."

On his road to recovery, Marsham will face Ross and take back what he has deemed so rightfully his -- contendership for the Intercontinental Championship. The storms are fast approaching, but only one man will rise from the devastation. Justin Marsham intends to be that man.

He is well-connected.

He has a support group - an inner circle of comrades - that cannot be denied.

He has desire.

He has technical finesse.

Justin Marsham is technical finesse.
Edited by Justin Marsham, Aug 23 2009, 11:57 PM.
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