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| Blood is Thicker than Water (The Hot Gates) | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 30 2010, 01:55 PM (163 Views) | |
| Alan Fiscus | Jul 30 2010, 01:55 PM Post #1 |
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Sadistic Solution
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"Each life makes its own imitation of immortality." - Stephen King -\| The scene fades in on the familiar CZW headquarters building in northern Stamford, Connecticut. The building is an off-yellow color, with a steel rendition of the CZW logo on the side of it. The building is at the northern tip of the main district area in the city, and the traffic is heavy. The sun beats down on the people walking and the cars driving as most people are just getting off work in the late afternoon. People walk by the building, which is active in itself, as some CZW corporate employees are leaving as well while some production people are coming in for work. CZW films a lot of their promos and their interviews during the early evening hours, as well as vignette editing, considering that most of the time the wrestlers have just flown in on the same day. A gray 2009 Chrysler 300's tires screech as it zooms by the building, and then turns to its right to the north side of the building where the parking lot is. The vehicle recklessly parks... in a handicap spot at that... and turns off. Both car doors open at once, and from the driver's side, Alan Fiscus reveals himself. His dirty blond hair blows in the medium breeze, and he is wearing black sunglasses. he sports black jean shorts, and black combat boots. His shirt is plain black, with a smiling skull in the center. He leans back into the car, and pulls out the CZW World Heavyweight title and straps it around his waist. On the passenger side, is of course, Alan's beautifully insane lover, Hellena. She is wearing skin tight blue jeans, also with black combat boots, and a dark purple cut off "Black Sabbath" t-shirt. Her black hair is down, with a few strips colored dark red. She wears old style sunglasses, like the ones John Lennon made famous. Alan walks around the car and grabs her, kissing her briefly and smiling. She is enamored with the man, as you can see it in her eyes. They walk around to the front of the building, and approach the entrance doors. Before they enter, Alan's cell phone rings from his left pocket. |\- Alan, looking at the caller "Great. It's Frank." -\| Hellena rolls her eyes, as Alan answers. They stay paused at the door, with the in-and-out traffic having died down, and he puts the phone on speaker. |\- Alan, with absolutely no enthusiasm in his voice "Yo... Frank. What's up, buddy." Frank, on the other end "Alan! Hey man... I've been trying to get a hold of you for a while now. But, no worries, I understand why you've distanced myself. I'm just calling to let you know that I plan on addressing the issue in the ring on Overdrive, and I hope you'll give me a chance to speak my piece to you, face to face." Alan, now also rolling his eyes "That's fine, Frank. I haven't purposely been avoiding you, I've just been busy. I have a lot on my plate now... I hope you can at least imagine what it's like to be successful. You're still my friend, and I will listen to what you have to say, man. You have to find your own path, and we can talk more about that as well. I'll see you in Grand Rapids." -\| Alan hangs up the phone, looking at Hellena, who has a fed up look on her face. As if to say 'forget about it,' Alan grabs her again and hugs her closely, making her squeal with happiness. They walk into the building, where a CZW rep has been waiting for them to enter. He greets them, and after a small exchange of information, he leads them to the room where they film the majority of their in-house promos. Alan is greeted by the personnel, and they all indicate that they are ready to begin filming. Hellena takes off her sunglasses, but Alan chooses to keep his on, as they go to the hot spot in front of the main camera. There is a black cloth draped on the background wall, with the CZW logo imprinted on it in the center and in large font. The overhead light is turned on, as Alan and Hellena take their stances in front of the drape and in front of the camera. Alan wraps his arms around the slightly shorter Hellena. Alan takes a quick drink of water that was handed to him by a CZW employee, and nods that he is ready to begin. The count light turns on, in red, and counts down from five. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. |\- Alan, with Hellena smiling sinisterly at the camera "Well, well, well... here we are. Only a few weeks away from the biggest event in this company's existence. The flagship show that this company works towards 364 days of the year. The pay-per-view of ALL pay-per-views, our coup de grāce. Hatewave III. Chicago, Illinois... a second home of mine. The city where the legendary music labels Wax Trax Records and Touch and Go Records released albums from amazing bands like Big Black, KMFDM, the Jesus Lizard, Ministry, and Brainiac. The city that bolsters two of the greatest baseball franchises in the game, the Cubs and the White Sox. The city where the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup, with Patrick Kane scoring the game-winning and Cup-clinching goal in overtime. A perfect home to the third installment of this mega event. This is the going to be the biggest of them all, boys. It's going to take the place at the top of the list that reads 'Best CZW Show Ever.' Which I think, and of course... my opinion is the only one that matters, is the first Hatewave back in 2008. Where that show holds a specific place in my heart, this one is going to top it by leaps and bounds. You may ask yourself why, and if you do, you're a huge moron, son. It's obvious why. It's because the greatest champion in _ALL_ of CZW's history will be headlining the show. It's because this company's most accomplished wrestler is the poster boy for their main cash cow. Many want to claim the nick name, the moniker if you will... but Alan F'N Fiscus is the only man in this company who can call himself the Franchise player. I am the chosen one, the golden son. And -everyone- knows this. The card is one of the most solid cards this company has ever booked, and this company has held a LOT of amazing shows. From top to bottom, amazing match after amazing match until it is time for the last one. The main event. For the first time in HISTORY... a four way dance of death Riot match for the CZW World Heavyweight title. History will be made on August 22nd when I -successfully- defend the title and retain not only that, but also the winning streak I have in my own creation. I have won every Riot match that has ever been held, except the one that Rowan and Covey had. And I had been in that one, I would have won it too. You bet your ass." -\| Alan pauses and smiles for a moment, as Hellena chimes in with a "That's right!" |\- Alan "But there's more to talk about than that match, MUCH more. It all revolves around it, certainly, as this World title is the only thing ANYONE should be thinking about in this business. Allow me to dissect this, engage branch by branch the matters at hand. First and foremost, let me tell something to you personally, MORTIUS." -\| Alan's smile disappears, as his eyebrows lower with animosity. |\- Alan "You may think you're in my head, darkness, but you're not. I DO have darkness in my heart, however, but it's not you... it's real. I'll keep this brief, as I have plenty of time to address you. I am going to make it plain and clear. I am going to hurt you in Chicago. I am going to kill the myth that you are supernatural, and show the world and the people who are obsessed with you, that you are nothing more than a below average human being. Underneath the get up and the production, you are a simple neanderthal reading lines written for him. You don't deserve to challenge for this title in the first place, and I plan to open the eyes of those blinded fools who you let you back in MY company. Beware, Dark Shadows... beware." -\| Alan pauses, signifying the change of subject. |\- Alan "He's not the only one I have to worry about, however. There are two other CZW veterans in this match, that in my humble opinion, DO deserve a shot at this title. Maynard O'Toole and Godzilla Sawyer. Two men, who in what has to be divine intervention, have each pinned me while I was champion. Regardless of how lucky they are, I am intelligent enough to recognize their dues. Where they are wanting to do the impossible and claim the belt as their own, I will be doing what I do to tie up the loose ends. To make amends for their miraculous victories over me. Vindication and closure will be mine. Now it's important, fellas. Now it matters. Where I face these men on August 22nd, I face one of them in another match a lot sooner than that. In Grand Rapids, on August 9th, they've booked what they have to think is a very clever main event. An ultimate preview to Hatewave, pitting four men against four men... an assortment of four matches that will take place in Chicago. First you have the colliding monsters, who will meet in Hatewave's opening contest... in a Hell in a Cell match. A Hell in a Cell match is opening the show. THAT'S the magnitude right there. The Mountain Man against my own cousin, Garrett William. These two alone could bring the roof down on the United Center. It only gets better from there. Then you have the newly crowned CZW X-Division champion, my brother, Sam Attic... against CZW's own super hero, the first ever X-Division champion, El Pablo. They will clash for Sam's first title defense, and it's going to be epic. Then you have the precursor to the main event, the second to last match of the card. Kimo Newton will get a one-on-one title shot against the current Intercontinental champion... and one of my partners for one night only... Mike King. Let's start with that right there. King, we've had many... MANY differences over the years, and we still do. You choose to punish yourself with sobriety, not partaking in the things you consider poisons... when in actuality, they are tools for enlightenment. But that is not important right now, no, where we clash personality-wise can be put aside for this one evening. I didn't chose to have you as my partner, I certainly don't WANT you as my partner, but I understand the significance of you being my family's partner, and I say so be it. I can think of worse partners to be placed with, but that's the only smoke I'll be blowing up your ass. If you know what's best for you, you'll follow OUR rules, and stay out of MY way." -\| Alan removes his arm from around Hellena, as he starts getting more animated while he continues. |\- Alan "And doesn't our team look like the thousands of Persian soldiers marching towards the three hundred Spartan-led resistance in the Battle of Thermopylae. Our opponents don't have a snowball's chance in hell. This marks the first time I am paired with my family members, Sam and Garrett. More history being created, every day. With a team of this caliber... the swift, predator-like offense of the reigning X-Division champion... the raw strength and brute force that is the Colossus... and the mastermind, the veteran, the Franchise player in myself... and King, the icing on the cake... what assemblage could withstand us? Certainly not this group of misfits that will stand before us in Grand Rapids. At the lead of this team, is the OGT himself. Maynard, I'm going to say this only once, and loud and clear. You are a man I have considered a close friend in the past, and you have become one of my favorite opponents of the present. In a business where it clearly lacks, I _DO_ respect you, O'Toole. I respect your ability, I respect your career. But that respect goes out the door with a quickness once those two bells start. The bell that starts our eight man tag match, and the bell that starts the biggest main event in CZW history at Hatewave III. I can only expect the same from you, and I know what you are capable of, believe me. On that same coin, however, you know what I am capable of as well. But you've never faced me when I have my BEST allies in my corner. My brother and my cousin are the best back up a man could ask for. You're going to get a preview of what's to come, my man. I'm going to humble you, and prove to you once again, that when it comes to you and I... you will always be the runner up. You will always get second best, achieving the silver, but NEVER the gold. It is you, not I, who will be swept into the Undertow. I will knock you Sober with my Intolerence. When I am through with you, Prison Sex won't seem so bad. I will pry open your Third Eye and spit in it. Of course, you've always been a Useful Idiot. So I won't be reading you your Eulogy just yet, no, like I said... just a taste. A preview. A preclude. In Chicago, you're going to hit the Bottom. And you'll only be able to Crawl Away from the wreckage, IF you survive. We have had The Grudge for many months, almost to the point that you are a Part of Me... but the crowd will fall into a silenced Hush, as I leave you laying in a puddle of your own Sweat and blood. I can taste it on my lips, Maynard. It's going to be Cold and Ugly." -\| Alan licks his lips, sneers an evil smile, and mockingly wipes his face. |\- Alan "And as for the rest of your wreck of a team, I can only laugh to myself when thinking about it. Sure, you've got two former World champions and a former Ultraviolent champion in your midst. But you're dealing with a team that three of the four members are CURRENT champions. You are formerly champions, meaning you were formerly good enough, but not no more. El Pablo, CZW's own pink flying squirrel. The first Grand Slam champion... whoopty do. What that tells me, is that you've won four different titles... and you've LOST four different titles. You can grasp at however many straws you like to beef up your career, it makes no difference to me. But, I do have to admit it, you are perhaps the most beloved wrestler in the CZW. For some reason, these endless stream of faceless sheep that pay money to see CZW have always loved you and your ballerina style of wrestling. You are the ultimate paragon of virtue, the kind of guy all parents would want their children looking up to. You are a god damn CARTOON CHARACTER. You are a glorified stunt man, trying to make it in a sport full of actual athletes. That's the bottom line. Don't get your butt hurt, El Pablo, it's just business. Where you have always been the five star superstar, I have always been the six star superstar, you dig? You can do your bells and whistles act for only so long, before it comes down to the pure grit and raw determination, and for Christ's sake... you wear ridiculous outfits and masks, you look like a damn clown! How can anyone take you seriously? I never have, and I never will. You are the comedy, but what you haven't realized yet, is that you're also the tragedy. A small and insignificant fly, buzzing around, looking to get smashed. Don't get me wrong, like I said... I understand your contributions to this company. And after I'm done pillagin' and plunderin' that ass, you can go back to being the kid friendly puppet you've always been. I hope you bring your best in Grand Rapids, and I hope you can bring even better at Hatewave. Because my brother is going to own you like property, son. It's going to become a tradition for a Fiscus to beat your ass at the grandest stage of them all." -\| Fiscus thinks to himself for a moment, before moving on. |\- Alan "And speaking of puppets, that brings me to someone else who has been one his entire career thus far in the CZW. Tim Timmons' own personal gimp. Tell me, Newsome, does me make you wear an all latex outfit and a mask with a ball gag attached to it? Does he keep you in a cage until he's ready to make use of your... attributes? Do Tim and Caleb take turns at it, sharing in your 'potential'? The Next Generation you call your little gang bang... what a farce THAT is. You allude to greatness, yet you mean the next generation of talentless hacks who fill up the lower levels of the roster. Newsome, I've seen Deliverance, son... and let me tell you, I'm not impressed. You've got some steam heading into the pay-per-view, what, with you defeating Frank Finch and then causing Garrett to lose against Godzilla the way that you did. You might think the ball is in your court now. But anyone who can be blinded by Tim's empty lies, can be blinded by their own confused ego. Just like at the last pay-per-view, Garrett is going to dismantle you and if you're not careful... cripple you. Confined inside of a steel structure, the devil's playground... and let's be clear. Garrett William isn't stuck in there with you... you're stuck in there with Garrett William. It's going to be fun getting in the ring with such an aimless beast such as yourself, a perfect work out. A great exhibition. It doesn't matter how big you are. It doesn't matter how strong you are, Josh. Josh. Lord, I hate that name. It doesn't matter how thick your beard is, punk! I am infinitely more intelligent than you, and that is your fatal flaw. I'll have you so wrapped up, you'll be kicking your own ass." -\| Fiscus shows more emotion, thinking about who is next. |\- Alan "And last... and most DEFINITELY least... we have the reject from the islands of Hawaii. The alcoholic who likes to cuss a lot. The delusional joke that is Kimo Newton. This moron has himself convinced HE should be challenging for the World Heavyweight title. He has himself convinced that his match with Karl Jackson that went to a NO CONTEST, was actually a victory. A man so into himself, so self centered, he is offended he isn't getting much coverage on the web sites and what not. Pathetic. You are obsessed with your own self, Kimo, but let me lay it down for you straight. YOU'RE NOT AS GOOD AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. You want credit where credit is due? Okay, you got it. I AM THE BEST. That's all the credit that's deserved when it comes between you and me, Newton. You are nothing but a joke in that ring, and you are nothing but a joke in the locker room. Your bluntness and toilet humor? Bland and cheap. The words that spew from your mouth like diarrhea, they don't intimidate anyone. They don't earn you respect. Your teenage mentality only gets mocked. Your juvenile demeanor only gets mediocre concern, at best. You're not on the web sites because NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU. You are empty filler, who should feel LUCKY to be getting ANY kind of title shot in this promotion. You'll take on all comers, is that right? You don't care who it is, you're pissed and you're not taking it anymore, is that it? Cry like a baby all day and all night, but nothing will change. You wanna run down Derek Damage, the OWNER of this company, in hopes of getting noticed. You wanna run down Rob Wright as if he were nothing... at least he's done SOMETHING of merit in his career. You don't impress me, you don't intimidate me, and you barely garner any mention in the first place, you piece of trash. Your mouth is writing checks your ass won't be able to cash. In fact, your ass is about to go bankrupt... because if it comes down to you and me in that ring in Grand Rapids at any point.. I'm going to shut your loud mouth UP, son. And EVERYONE will applaud me for it. The boys in the back, the boys in that ring, and even all the humanoids in the stands will clap as you're knocked the hell out, courtesy of an Overthrow. I'm going to drop you so hard on your head, you're going to be talking out of your ass not only figuratively... but LITERALLY as well. Then I will lock you up in the Manic Compression, and pull back with all my force... until I break you like a wishbone. You are the epitome of what's wrong with society these days. All arrogance, no virtue. You want all the rewards, but you don't want to do the work to achieve them. You think... no, you DEMAND everything to given to you on a silver platter. As if your very existence deserves worship. Your arrogance... and your ignorance... will be your downfall. You can take your shitty rum, you can take your jerking off powder, and you can stick them straight up your ass where you think everyone's noses should already be. You make me sick. You give Hawaii a bad name. I don't know why CZW thought it'd be a good idea to hire a brainless and simple street thug that used to be Ross' circle jerk partner, but it doesn't really matter. You are fodder, and nothing... NOTHING more. You should feel privileged to be in the ring with me, even if you should be kissing my boots rather than trying to oppose me. Get over yourself, Kimo... because that's the only way you'd get over." -\| Alan then spits to his right, meaning it for Kimo. |\- Alan "Let me tell ALL of you maggots on the active roster something. It doesn't matter WHO it is, all eyes should very much so BE ON ME. I am the champion of YOUR world, it's about time you all start realizing it and accepting the fact that NONE of you are good enough to beat me. Not when the CZW World Heavyweight championship is at stake. Big Nasty, you claim someone has hired you to 'take me out.' Well, I'm right here, bitch. I don't sweat you. I truly hope you win that Money in the Bank and try to cash in on me, so I can rape you of your good fortunes and leave you in a darkened pit of broken hopes and dreams. And Cage Stryker, you're vowing to come and 'get revenge' for putting you out for so long, and for what happened to your little blonde bimbo. You should have stayed retired, little man. You should heed my words, and stay out of my way. You don't want any piece of this after I humiliated you at Road To Glory. You are just deluding yourself like Kimo is. Filling yourself up with delusions of grandeur. You're never going to be champion again, not as long as I'm still alive and kickin'! It doesn't matter who it is." -\| Just then, Hellena speaks |\- Hellena "Sirena Starr... bitch, you don't belong in CZW. You and your man are nothing but trash. You ever want a piece of me, I'll be more than happy to oblige." -\| It's then Hellena's turn to spit, showing what she thinks of Sirena. Alan continues, smiling with pride at his woman's bad assness. |\- Alan "Matt Covey, Buzzsaw, Waylon Krew, Eddie Rowan, Jacob Havok, Edward Croft, even Jack Abraham. Krimzon Blaze, Brian Blaze, Johnny Kerosene, hell, even Disco Inferno... you want some? Come and get some. I am willing and more than able to take on all comers, and leave each and every one of you defeated and meaningless. That's about all I have to say on the matter. When it comes to Alan Fiscus, you don't get a lot of dramatic scenes and love story bullshit. You don't get 'A Day in the Life.' This is professional wrestling. This is a SPORT. These other wrestlers want to make it a soap opera, that's their failed call, not mine. This is about competition, this is about winning. I tell my story in the ring. I do my talking with my talent. I don't need a fancy gimmick, and I don't need a hyped up production to get my point across. This isn't a sketch show, this isn't Saturday Night Live. This is real. And this is dangerous. Because I make it dangerous. I put every ounce of my being in my career, and into this company. I eat, sleep, and breathe this business. When I say I am the best, it's because it's damn true and it rings out in all of your ears. I am better than ALL of you. All of the wrestlers in this company, all of the wrestlers in ANY company, the sheep in the crowd, the employees behind the scenes. I'm better than the cameraman standing behind the camera, right now. You want a piece cameraman?" -\| You hear a faint 'no!' in the background. |\- Alan "Damn straight you don't. In closing, it really makes no difference that I have to deal with three different people in the title match at Hatewave. It makes no difference which of the four men I face in Grand Rapids gets in my sights. You're ALL going down. I'm not the hunted because I am the champion, I am the hunter because you are PREY. Game I will easily dupe and conquer, and meat I will eat for dinner. Your heads will be mounted on my wall, with that last gasp of life still on your frozen faces. I will clean my teeth with shards of your bones. No one is safe. No one.... can escape the Riot!" -\| Hellena gets a wicked look in her eye, as she grabs Alan and draws him near. |\- Hellena "I LOVE it when you talk sexy!" Alan, looking at the camera "THAT'S RIIIIIIGHT!" -\| Alan and Hellena begin passionately making out, with Hellena caressing his face. The camera feed slowly fades to black, along with the scene itself. |\- |
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