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| Glacier vs. Fred Debonair | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 20 2010, 06:44 AM (140 Views) | |
| Kassie Khane | Apr 20 2010, 06:44 AM Post #1 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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Glacier vs. Fred Debonair 3 RP Limit, 2 per person, 4 per team for tag matches Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday, April 27, 2010 ~~Good Luck Everyone!~~ |
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| Glacier | Apr 20 2010, 02:12 PM Post #2 |
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The Coldest Mofo Around
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“I don’t know!” The last words I heard from that man before his life ended. I hated Davis, not for what he done but for he had become. He had become the cold hearted guilt-ridden bastard that I was. For the rest of his life, he will have to live with another man’s blood on his hand. Every night he sleeps, every morning he daydreams, and every single second in between. I wonder if Heaven exists. I know I’ll never see it nor will Hudson; Davis sure as hell won’t now. I know him; he won’t regret what he has done. He’s gone too far to turn back now. Yet that is only his mindset for Davis is not the killer of Officer Gaines. He did not murder Gaines, I did. I was the one who cocked back that gun and pulled the trigger. I am the sole party responsible for that man’s death. Davis was simply a man put with his back against the wall. I, Anthony Thomas, am the man who took the life of Officer Gaines. A dark night only leads to darker intentions. Lay back in my seat watching the rain pour down the windshield as the storm began to rumble. I found myself unreasonably comfortable with it. It was almost as if it was the perfect conditions. I saw the unmarked cop car pull up across the street. I looked around to make sure no one followed him; it was just…too easy. He got out the car and walked across the street. I saw him head to the passenger door, I unlocked it. The man was overweight, covered in water, and out of breathe from just jogging from point A to point B. I already hated him. But I had to pretend to give half a damn about him if I wanted things to work out my way. He smirked at me; he had the markings of a dirty cop. The cocky God-like attitude that was only furthered by their pathetic thought they are getting one up on “evil-doers”. It was hard to put on a fake smile, the only thing I was happy to do was get revenge. “Officer, nice to see you on such a terrible night. I seem to remember telling you we would meet this evening before the storm.” “You know how it is, got to put the kids in bed – the usual.” “I’m sure. Davis. Justin Davis. I presume you finally went about finding him and telling him he’s the number one suspect in this case?” “Yes, he sure didn’t like it but I’m here to do my ‘job’. My job is not to console and pat people on the back.” “No, it most certainly is not. Your purpose on this earth, Mr. Gaines, is to be used to destroy lives through deceitful lies which earn you a big bonus onto that small check you get every two weeks.” “I wouldn’t put it like that but yes, I do what I have to so my kids can have the best things in life.” “Same here, I wouldn’t particularly charge an innocent man with the disappearance of a woman when I know who the person that did it is but eh, different strokes for different folks. Now, Amber will be in…” We sat there and plotted like high school students preparing to cheat on a test. It was almost sickening. I felt the cold shiver coming up my back but it didn’t stop me. If anything, it almost kicked in as a boost to carry on. I could only think about how Davis stood above me with MY belt. I could only swear that anyone and everyone who ever screwed me over would pay revenge. To me, Davis needed to lose something a bit more than a belt. Yet what could be as cold and calculating as befriending him while screwing him over? Just as he had done to me. There was nothing more satisfying than being up and close to watch his every facial expression as he grimaced at the thought of losing Amber and being charged with her kidnapping. I could salivate at his pain and myself being intelligent enough that I maneuvered myself in position to be able to stare him dead in his face while I rip every single opportunity from underneath him. Candy. It was too sweet to be able to crush his little hopes and dreams while realizing my own. If I could I’d hold him down and grab my two hands around his throat and watch as his light blue eyes roll in the back of his head as he died from asphyxiation. Something is seriously wrong with me. No, it’s not. No one thought there was a single thing wrong when they saw Davis stand over me as I laid there crumpled on the mat. Not a soul would reach out a hand and help their former SCW tag team champion. No one gave a damn and now I should return and forget all of it? Fuck THAT. And fuck you if you really thought I would be so light hearted. You thought I would turn a blind eye? Who the hell do I look like to you? Charlie Brown? I don’t repeatedly run after a punt and miss every time. I’m the not the simple-minded goon I pretend to be. I do that because you pathetic imbeciles cannot handle the idea of me being far more superior to any person you have met. I play second-fiddle for the sake of people’s minds not combusting from my greatness. And look at those suckers. Ooh poor Anthony, he must be shitting his draws seeing a man die. Admittedly, I didn’t expect Davis to grow some hair on his balls and do that but it took me minimal time to get over it. Now I play the “hard guy turned soft at the sight of a dead man’s body” so that the plan continues. We wouldn’t want Gaines life to have gone in vain would we now? His poor kids would never understand that their father was a simple pawn to my plans. I admit I didn’t want him to be removed this early from the game but now is better than never. I’m playing chess with Poker cards. I lost my rook because my Diamond wanted to play hardball. But it amuses me; Davis lashes out in the most malevolent ways when he has his back against the wall. Know what that means? He’s vulnerable. He’s only prepared when he has another way out. When he’s not able to power through he’ll weasel out. He felt he had no other option so he took a man’s life which, honestly, should be your last option. It also means he is not aware of all his options. He could have had him moved from his office to the other side of the country, he could have threatened, and hell Davis could have found a way to have him fired. Yet he chooses to take this corrupted pig’s life. I’m finding out so much about Davis while doing so little. I could practically take him on in a match right now and know every weakness. Rachel is to Davis what Joker is to Batman. He cannot be fueled to such levels without having a spine. Rachel is his spine, the backbone a coward would need to pull a gun. Davis is not a coward but he is certainly not a natural killer. I pace up and down in my hotel room as those two goons sit in another enjoying life. It was sickening. His girlfriend is missing. He pulled a trigger on a man who was supposedly ‘doing his job’. Yet there he sat enjoying life like it was a fucking beach. It’s just one big whoop, huh? My brother warned me bad things would go down in California; our last week spent here someone lost their life. There is nothing good that can come from The Golden State apparently. Hmm, no wonder why there are a bunch of gays and skateboarders running around being governed by a wrinkled up action movie star. I told Davis ahead of time that I would be heading back to New Jersey to take care of some business. He’s under the pretense that I’m just heading there to see my family. Amber is in New Jersey. No worried, I plan to move her right under his nose. I’m putting her over in Boston where I have a couple of friends who will overlook her until things go my way. How can you trust Bostonians when Davis is their hometown hero? Can I tell you a little rumor I heard? Well, rumor has it that when good ol’ Kentucky farmboy Davis came to Boston he met a person who loved wrestling as much as him. They trained together and when Davis was signed to his first federation he was suppose to get this buddy of his a contract. He didn’t, he turned his back on him and since then local wrestlers of Boston have never been too friendly to The Loud Mouth. Even though Boston fans clamor to him, true wrestlers from the area would spit at him if they could. I got in with a couple of the guys since Shorty sometimes runs a local tryout where they come down from Boston to New York to be looked at by scouts. I hanged with a couple of them from his gym, that’s how I heard the story. So I told one of them my situation and they decided they would help me out. They would hold Amber hostage for me while I make my rounds in SCW and finally exact revenge on Justin Davis. To them, I am exacting revenge for their fellow wrestler who was left in the dust when Davis was signed. Little tidbits like that amuse me. Everyone assumes I’m the asshole because I choose to show my true colors in front of everyone without fear of repercussion while you have people like Davis who do cold hearted things behind closed doors and everyone pretends like he is a misguided innocent guy. How quickly the mood changes when you realize a guy like him is no better than me. He just chooses to hide his evilest deeds while I piss in the wind and move out the way so my urine can splatter in your face. I could care less how you feel about me. I played the meek quiet version of myself and I did it well. I’ve done it so well that Davis still doesn’t have a clue that it’s me. No one does, except you – the listener. Yes, you – who has to sit in shock and disbelief as you hear every wretched word drip out of my mouth. IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE THIS BAD. To be so cruel and calculating, to make another man suffer without him having a clue that you are the source of his pain – many have tried and failed to be where I am at. You are either too evil to be trusted or too good to be evil. I am the balance you have tried to be. You fail miserably as you tip over the scales every single time. Within a few days, Amber will be in route to Boston. I remember when I saw her – distressed about her situation with Hudson. Now she’s getting passed around like a collection plate – awhaha. Oh boy, I wonder how Rachel would like to hear the boys she runs with in Foxx Global are heartless men who used some innocent woman as a tool to get revenge on one another. Ah Amber’s a whore anyway – she cheated on Hudson and got pregnant by another man if my mind serves me right. After awhile I never heard from her again and now I heard Davis has her. Now I’m taking her for a spin. Thank God I’m not a sick puppy like Hudson; he’d probably screw her and dump her in a whore house. Ah I miss that piece of shit, where is he now? SCW Champion again? Who’d he screw over to win that? Next trip is to Boston. Yes, I’m landing in New Jersey and driving up to Boston. How else would I be able to bring that pretty girl with me so some of Justin’s “good friends” can take care of her for me? Ha-ha. Maybe I’m an asshole but no one can say that I am wrong for taking revenge. You may not like the form I took it in and while two wrongs don’t make a right – it sure as hell makes for an “even”. Well if it isn’t our reigning Underground Champion. Ah, the Underground division – how often have I found myself around those people? If it wasn’t Davis winning the Underground title, it was Shorty Junior commanding the Underground division while fighting with his own wrestlers. That kid is a moron with no ability to control anything including his mouth – probably why he was socked in it so many times. I rather not talk about the irrelevant I rather talk about you – hot shot. No, I’m not hitting on you. If you wore a pretty skirt and some lipstick THEN we’d be talking. All jokes aside, I suppose you’re going to look at me as an enemy right? Now because we face up you immediately assume I’m coming for you and your title. While you are not my original target, you choose to stand in front of me and what I want – you might as well consider yourself good as dead. Eh, I hate talking about death. It’s too – ball and chain. I don’t feel like death or talking about it. Fred, I feel like a free man who is about to be released from prison. I’m at the gate and I’m waiting for the guard to pull the level or press the button to allow it to pull back and let me free. I can breathe the air, I can taste it. It’s there. Don’t know what I’m talking about? I’m talking about freedom, Debonair. I’m talking about being able to do what I want, where I want, when I want. Something that I have not been able to do since my return – I will soon. First, I will start by showing you all that pretend hardcore garbage you’re carrying on with in the ring is child’s play. So how does it feel to play with the kids like Knight and Helms? Are you ready to step up and put on your pull-up trainers? Maybe you can then be taken serious as a champion and a competitor instead of prancing around with the absurdly stupid buck-tooth English man…and Lucas Knight. If you know anything, like the bottom of your underwear knows your ass from being wedged up there for so long as you play the snobby high classed wrestle, you would know that us German breeds are a bit more than just Mercedes-Benz engineers. We have a dark history and I have every intention so show you it and I’m not running after a title shot for your belt but trust me if it’s on the line I don’t intend to let you walk away with it. Glacier – SCW Underground Champion. Nah, let’s try this: GLACIER THE UNDISPUTED COLDEST SCW UNDERGROUND CHAMPION IN HISTORY. No? Too dramatic? Ah, personally I thought it had a nice ring to it especially when you throw in the “Coldest” somewhere near my name to pretend to be unique and cool. Fred, I worry for you. Yes, I do. You seem to be very unstable – one minute you get whipped by Knight next minute you’re standing above him and Helms with your belt around your waist. Now granted, he beat you in a six-man tag we still don’t need an Underground champion who only wrestles when his belt is on the line. You shouldn’t have to desire shedding blood when you have the potential to lose something valuable. That should always be in your system – it’s an animalistic trait and if you can’t get in touch with the beast within you – I’ll tell you like I told Starr – I’ll gladly take your title if you don’t want it or can’t handle it. It almost seemed as though you lost your cool in the ring at Tactical Warfare. The heat too much, Fred? No worries, the title can rest on my waist – I promise to keep it warm for when you want to grow some hair on your chest, fight for it, and be a real man. That or you can keep playing footsies over there with Chris Lawler and company until someone gets sick of it and bashes your head into a turnbuckle then takes your title. Presumably, that person would be me. Yes, I’m the only one that will fight you for the sake of fighting you – not for the sake of the title. Fred, let me introduce you to SCW. You have schemers like Jason Zero and Greg Cherry – only picking fights that will be in their best interest to win. Then you have scrappers like me and Justin Davis – people who will fight for the hell of fighting. We don’t make ‘career deciding moves’, we decide to move our fist so far back into your head that we end your career. I’ve walked down the career path of a tag team wrestler for most of my life but if you think you’re good enough to take me on, I might take your gold and head to the Underground division. While yes, I know your belt is not on the line and I am potentially jumping the gun in threatening to take it from you – you should always know that even if I’m not the one staring you down there will always be a target on you as long as you hold gold in this company. Schemers, Scrappers, and everyone in between wants what you have and it’s probably the only reason any one pays you any attention. Not much of a guy with personality from what I gathered. Don’t feel bad, most guys who hold the hardcore title aren’t known to have much about them worth noting with the exception of their brutal fighting style. For example, one of the most celebrated Hardcore champions – The Real Speed – when you break him down he was nothing more than a drunk white trash wrestler who an North American-obsession with Asian culture. Another pathetic kid who thought “Being down with the Kids from Chinatown” would make him any more of an actual samurai or Asian warrior. I guess playing “pretend ninja” with some Korean kids in the back alley of their Chinese restaurant is what they call “understanding Eastern culture”. Go figure. I take it you would agree that he was a drunken idiot who had no clue what he was doing and let me guess, you won’t be like him. I’m happy to know you’re not another version of him – you would have been quickly dispatched a long time ago if you were. You might last a bit longer than him but given your about as hallow and wretched as him minus the drinking stupor, I don’t see much coming from you this upcoming Breakdown. Let’s just hope that you won’t have to wait until your title is on the line to gather some courage and duke it out like a man. Edited: Didn't put in the BBCode before I clicked reply. |
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| Debonair | Apr 26 2010, 06:10 PM Post #3 |
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Newbie
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Date: April 18th, 2010. Time: 22:45. Location: Somewhere around the arena, at the ending of Tactical Warfare. [align=center]:::This is the story of what you did not see live on air at the Pay-Per-View event... I could hear the crowd chanting my name as the big screen inside the arena showed me with the SCW Underground title pressed firmly against one shoulder and my bag over the other. Blood poured down my face still, each inch of my body battered, broken and bruised in one of the most hellacious battles I’ve ever had against two men who I could clearly tell wanted to win this belt just as much as I wanted to continue holding it, no matter who I was or what was going on, being the SCW Underground Champion meant it all, to me it meant everything and more than anything else in the world, well it meant more than almost, anything else. My right eye was torn, I could barely see out of it and as I opened the emergency exit to get to my car and drive my fucked up ass to the hotel and get some well deserved shut-eye before my next road trip I could barely make out the two individuals who were perched on my hood... They were suited, that much I could see and both of them were handing their wallets to me, no wait, they were holding up badges. The audience watching this happening could see me through the camera which was arched over me and through their eyes I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty; every bit of my stomach lurched toward my throat and I knew there and then this news was either going to make my night that much better, or turn it into a living nightmare... One of the men approached me as I slowly placed my bag on the floor:::[/align] Man 1 Mr. Debonair? My name is Detective Carlisle and this is Detective Burdock. Debonair Detectives? Is this about Lizzy and my daughter? Have you found them? Carlisle You tell us, Mr. Debonair... We have reason to believe you know full well where both your daughter and fiancée are. [align=center]:::My heart stopped beating, I knew it had because my breathing had ceased along with it; I couldn’t comprehend what it is this man was telling me, must have been an injury to my ear too. It sounded as though he were accusing me of knowing what there was to know about my daughters disappearance; Lizzy’s too... I tilted my head slightly as the second man, Burdock, approached me:::[/align] Debonair I’m sorry, what?? What’re you talking about!? Burdock Mr. Debonair you’re under arrest for the disappearance and suspected unlawful imprisonment of one Lizzy Quinn and Mercedes Jane Debonair. You have the right... [align=center]:::As he read me my rights I could feel the tension being built up in the arena behind me, I could hear people chanting my name even through the thick brick of the stadium and I could hear the animosity towards these Federal Agents, as they slapped the cuffs on me and began taking me from my own vehicle to the one they had on standby as a million thoughts swam through my head... Was this how things were going to be now? Did they know...? And was it going to work? Only time would tell. But that’s something we did not have much of, time::: ~*~*~*~[/align] Date: April 21st, 2010. Time: 15:45. Location: Somewhere in the middle of Nevada. [align=center]:::My eyes fluttered open and all I could see was the sun, boring itself down onto me and covering my skin with a poker iron red tattoo... Looking around I realised I was indeed lying in the desert and not three feet from my right leg, sat a scorpion. It wasn’t paying any attention to me and no sooner had I pulled myself into a sitting position had it scuttled off towards the casino’s in the distance. I looked around me and saw the SUV parked just a little further down by a roadside... How long had I been out? I wasn’t sure, but the woman sitting in the open vehicle was now looking at me with intriguing surprise as she sipped on her, whatever kind of soft drink it might have been, from whatever fast food restaurant we’d visited in the past hour and stood up, walking toward me. I jumped to my feet and grabbed the white T-Shirt on the floor beside me, dusting it and shaking it off for spiders, scorpions or anything else that might have thought about using it as a new home and chucked it over my torso, as I went to meet her... She didn’t look like a Fed; in fact she looked like anything but. Pink flannel shirt with probably only a bra underneath, denim jeans and a pair of girly Timberland boots, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing a pair of FBI Issued shades okay, so there went the pretence fantasy of her not being an authority figure. She stuck her hand out and I notice she had another Sippy-Cup, I took it and realised it was still ice-cold; taking the straw in my mouth I sucked up what was clearly Mountain Dew, Code-Red and slurped on that bitch, greedily as she kept her hand out for a shake which I reciprocated:::[/align] Woman Detective Lacy Gardner, sir... Debonair Nice to meet you Detective Gardner, Fred Debonair... Gardner No you’re not... Debonair I’m, sorry? I’m not what? Gardner You’re not, Fred Debonair. Debonair Uhm, yeah... I am ma’am. Hold up let me get my licence and whatever else I might have... Gardner Sir, you’re not Fred Debonair... This is your debrief. You’re Xavier Cain and it’s an honor to work for, with and alongside you and your whole division. [align=center]:::This stopped me for sure, completely halted me in my tracks. What, no Fred Debonair? This was my debrief? What the heck was she talking about? I had been ‘Fred Debonair’ for over a decade now... Sure okay it started out as a Professional Wrestling “ring name” but then it became my pseudonym. My alter-ego if you will, my ‘undercover brother from a made up mother’. There’s no way that could be over in a short run of the mill twelve hours, or could it? I took a walk toward the SUV and sat at the step of the open sliding back door before downing some more Mt. Dew, I felt around my jeans until I found what I was looking for, the cigarettes and lighter. I sparked one up and offered one to Gardner, who surprisingly took one and lit it. I guess actually now I’ve mentioned it, it should not have surprised me the way this day was going... She sat down next to me, removed the shades and looked into my eyes. Her own were a forest green, lush, beautiful. Not in the way that I was thinking oh wow I’m going to screw her right here and now and cheat on Lizzy, God no, just extremely... Captivating. She smiled then composed herself pulling out a laptop and booting the thing up:::[/align] Gardner The Debonair assignment is over. As far as we could tell from your meeting with Sylvain and Macready the other night, the man in charge of this entire operation was in attendance at Tactical Warfare as you suspected he might be; hence going along with your plan to have you ‘arrested’ by us and taken into custody so that Xavier Cain could get on with what it was, he needed to do. Debonair And so this concludes ten years of servitude under the Debonair name? What about Teresa? Is she continuing the pretence of Casie Debonair? Gardner She will be, for the time being. But right now we have to get you into the clearing and back onto the radar, or at least underneath it... Word is spreading that Connor Slade the multi-millionaire who owns about half a dozen of the Casino’s on the strip in Las Vegas has a hand in this so it’s up to us to go in there, “Ocean’s Eleven” style and flush him out. Debonair Anything more been sent to your people as to why they’ve got my girl kidnapped? Gardner Nothing whatsoever, they’re supposed to be contacting our New York office to talk with Macready again in twelve hours from now. So we need to get ourselves hooked up into a hotel suite and settled before the next phase. Debonair And we’re gonna roll up into a hotel parking lot, which could very well be owned by none other than Mr. Slade himself; in a Fed-issued SUV? Gardner Hahahaha! Of course not, silly... Look. [align=center]:::My shoulder still bled pain as I spun around in the direction she was pointing and my eye was still completely screwed up but even I could see the Ferrari FXX that was moving at top speed in our direction... The man behind the wheel? Detective Carlisle from the night I was “arrested” at Tactical Warfare. He skidded to a halt not thirty yards from the SUV and I jumped up headed toward the ride, smirking a little as I did. I held out my hand for the keys but Carlisle chucked them straight across the car toward Gardner, she poked her tongue out at me and high fived Carlisle as she jumped into the driver’s seat. He was grabbing our bags from the other car and dumping them into the boot and as he did I couldn’t help the disbelief that these guys were Feds at all, from running through my head as a small laugh escaped me. Carlisle approached me, shook my hand and gave me the same ‘it’s an honor’ speech as Gardner had before hopping into the SUV and taken off in the same direction he’d come. I turned to the female detective who was now my ‘partner’ so it seemed and saw the impatient look on my face as she patted the passenger side to the FXX... I shrugged, jumped in and barely had time to buckle up before we were roaring onto the road and toward the Las Vegas Strip::: ~*~*~*~ :::I sit on the hood of the Ferrari FXX looking into the lens as if this might be the last time any of these guys and girls who’ve worshiped every canvas I’ve stepped on, will see me. I look deep into the camera as it focuses on me but not much more than I am focusing on it... I tilt my head slightly, a smile creeps across my lips but it does not reach my eyes. I suck in a deep breath and I begin:::[/align] Debonair Where do I begin? Where in the world is it possible, to begin... By the time you’re watching this you’ll have no doubt realised that Fred Debonair is no longer around, Fred Debonair is no more than a figment of your imagination and therefore by association has never existed. Does this mean that I should be stripped of the SCW Underground Championship because of course it has HIS name engraved on the front? No, it does not because I WILL ALWAYS BE, Fred Debonair except in name; in spirit, in fighting physicality he’ll always be a part of me but from this day on you’ll know me as nothing more than Xavier Cain. This is who I really am, who I have always been and who I shall be until the day when I actually do fall six feet deep, eternally asleep in some rotting casket in a cemetery in the heart of Butt-Fuck, U.S.A. Now as I said by the time you’ve watched this Debonair will be no more and a lot of bad shit would have already taken place... “Fred Debonair” would have been arrested after Tactical Warfare for the disappearance of his fiancée and daughter; Fred Debonair would also have been taken to jail and oh yeah; Xavier Cain would have probably, in the line of duty of course, killed about a dozen people and rescued said fiancée and daughter from the grips of a mad psychotic individual with a brainwashed army he promised control and riches to. Control and riches in a country which is run by a bunch of egomaniacal self-centred underground secret society running pricks anyway!? You’ve got to be kidding me, right?? But that’s not all that would have happened... You see, what else would have happened is that “Glacier” would realise that he’s no longer taking on a man by the name of Fred Debonair who is this homely, house-husband, good type of father kind of feller; and he would understand that I’m every bit as tormented soul as he believes himself to be! [align=center]:::I light up a cigarette and take a huge draw from it, blowing out smoke as I shield my eyes from the raging Nevada sun by placing a pair of Oakley’s over them. I pull them down slightly just so as you or whomever else is paying attention can see that I am still focused on each and every one of you, especially Glacier. I continue on:::[/align] Debonair At Tactical Warfare I showed not only David Helms but also Lucas Knight exactly what I was capable of if I put my mind to it, I’d been having some off time and that was obviously evident what with my streak in SCW but at the Pay-Per-View I put that all behind me. I’ve noticed that neither Knight nor Helms have wished to speak up on the matter and that’s okay because it’s going to be painfully obvious of their thoughts anyhow. Helms will have congratulated me on a hard fought match and known that the best man of the three of us won the match; however Lucas Knight would turn around and claim a fluke, he’d claim that I’d beaten him by luck and noted how it was not he who was pinned but rather David Helms and therefore yet again in a match he and I were both in together I’ve still yet to beat him and that’s okay because his day WILL come but until then, I’ve another soul to crush and another bit of ice to break with the one calling himself “Glacier”. The first thing that disturbs me about Glacier is that, forgetting the fact that I am male, which by definition means I have a set of balls and a penis; he claims were I to wear a nice little skirt and apply some lipstick to my mouth he may actually go for me; I sense a huge shudder coming on here people, okay it passed. Glacier my friend I’m sorry but I don’t swing that way even if the other person was dressed in an effeminate manner... Each to their own though and I’m not going to judge on your sexual preferences, this is about taking on Xavier Cain, the SCW Underground Champion! Now son I didn’t “choose” to stand in front of you, run you down, pin your shoulders to the mat, whichever way we deem to look at it; all I did was walk out of Tactical Warfare still holding my belt. You might want to look at the boss for a little explanation as to how you and I are standing in the ring together because kid? I didn’t expect to get you as an opponent as much as you were shocked you got me, believe me... Whether or not I look at you as an enemy however is irrelevant. I see you as my opponent for Wednesday night and that’s that, I’ve got no beef with you, no issues. Hell I’d even shake your hand before we go out into the ring and also after regardless of who were to win the match! In all honesty though sunshine, I’m really glad I’ve given you the opportunity to face someone in a match of your liking, a match where the only rule is to hurt your opponent and nothing more. A match where ‘Glacier’ it appears you deem yourself to be in your element, so to speak... That’s good, I like bringing out the best in people. But please, do me a favor okay son? Stop with this ‘what you know already as hardcore is crap, I’m going to show you what real hardcore is’ bullshit okay? Because it gets boring... Now, what I came across with Helms and Knight at T.W might not exactly have been your definition of hardcore son but I can tell you right now it wasn’t as ‘weak’ as you might have thought. And trust me, I spent many-a-year down in Mexico I’ve spent a long time in Japan and I know what ‘Hardcore’ is kiddo, believe me... [align=center]:::At this point the slight smile that was creeping across my face and yet not touching my eyes, became a sincere gut-wrenching laugh. It is noticed that I’m watching Glacier’s “promo” from a monitor situated not a foot to the left of the camera which is recording my very words and evidently something that was said I found extremely humorous. I raised an eyebrow and held up my index finger to signal I’d still need a moment to regain my composure but yet, when I did my face had set like stone; there was a gleam in my eye that I could feel and yet still did not recognize myself as I continued to speak:::[/align] Debonair I “play” a snobby high-class Wrestler? Mr. G, have you actually ever listened to me speak, son? Have you ever actually watched me wrestle? Do you ACTUALLY know anything about Fred Debonair or Xavier Cain? I can’t imagine you do with all that bullshit you’re spewing from out of your mouth! High-class? I’m working class, blue collar down to the bone! Snobby? I lived a life of street-crime and anti-Semitism abuse from the minute I stepped onto the streets in Los Angeles all the way down to Houston, Texas! And you want to claim I’m high class and snobby and that I “play” this kind of character...? Oh boy you don’t know me at all, right. What you see with me is what you get boss and what you see with me right now is one pissed off son of a bitch ready to tear you a whole slew of new assholes! Oh and the only ‘dark history’ I know about you “German Breeds” is that which my Grandpa told me about and in case you forgot son? We won that one... So now here you are Mr. German Iceberg trying to educate Fred Debonair, trying to educate Xavier Cain in the art of the world of Wrestling? Bitch please, I’ve been fighting stupid ass wannabe’s since before you learned how to walk and smashed your milkies on the side of dads liquor cabinet! And outside of the wrestling ring I’ve been dealing with colder ass-hats than dildos you’ve played with! And I’m not talking about ‘ring masters’ and guys who’ve trained day in and day out to entertain a crowd I’m talking about monstrous mother[CENSORED] who’d shoot a child just to get the reward packet the person who hired him, promised! Kid if you really want this belt then I’ll tell you what, as a solid promise from me to you... Beat me at Breakdown and I’ll HAPPILY put this little tin can on the line against you at “Taking Hold of the Flame!” whether or not I’m in more than one match it doesn’t matter to me because boy? You’ve no clue who I am and trying to preach to the choir just does not cut it, in my books... You seriously need to get your head examined ice-man or at least look at some real hard facts before you come spouting your mouth off, playing footsie with ‘Chris Lawler’? Who’s that...? Oh wait, does he run the company, look after the company or something? Is this some insinuation that Xavier Cain, that Fred Debonair, is some kind of corporate puppet? Well excuse me for not having the faintest idea of what the [CENSORED] you’re talking about Glacier! I work by myself, for myself and I have nothing to prove to anybody... If Chris Lawler wants to ride my coat-tails? So be it, but you can bet your cold, frozen nugget that I work for NOBODY and I do NOBODY’S bidding but my own! Heh and so you’re apparently the only person who will fight me for the sake of fighting and not for anything in particular, Glacier? Wrong kid; get in line because there are people more murderous than you, hell more murderous than your worst nightmares as a child! Wanting a piece of me... You think you’re some kind of special? Special Ed’ perhaps but nothing more. I feel sorry for you Ice, really I do because you seem to think you’re putting the frighteners on Fred Debonair, the willies up the spine of Xavier Cain but my friend? The things I’ve been through and the things I’ve seen and done, they make your “tales of terror” look like bedtime fairy tales... You’ve looked past me, Glacier and believe me sunshine that was definitely the wrong move to make! You’ve taken one look at what you’ve been shown and like the flock you’ve ran in the wrong direction. Much like the lovely citizens of this great nation, you’ve chosen to believe the faux story put in front of your eyes and for the sake of not wanting to argue have held up your hands, sighed in resignation and gone with the ‘general consensus’. Open your eyes you Muppet and see that the only truth is the one standing before you! At Breakdown it’s not Fred Debonair you have to deal with; it’s not this “punk kid Wrestler” it’s Xavier Cain, a man with more knowledge of brutality than you couldn’t even fathom if you watched a thousand Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan movies combined with some special novelty items from the great Quentin Tarantino and then went to the library and read through an entire collection of Dan Brown, Dean Koontz and Stephen King books! You’ve opened your mouth Ice-Man now let’s hope you can back up what you’ve said because I’m telling you this for free... If, and even to me it’s a relatively big if, I beat you at Breakdown and smash every single damn bone in your body and you daren’t put up a fight? I shall be EXTREMELY disappointed, in you... Extremely disappointed. [align=center]:::I threw the cigarette down and watched it fizzle out slowly, in the desert sand, before turning and walking away from the camera... I climbed into the Ferrari FXX and revved the engine; taking off leaving a trail of dust behind me::: ~*~*~*~[/align] Date: April 26th, 2010. Time: 19:30. Location: The Hyatt Regency Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada. [align=center]:::The keys were with the valet. I watched him drive the Ferrari FXX in the parking lot as I turned toward Lacy Gardner. She was now dressed in a hot pink “boob tube” top and a very short white denim skirt, along with high heels. I myself was now dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of three-quarter length faded denim jeans... She walked toward the hotel entrance and I followed suite as she pulled the hair-band out, letting her pony-tail down and shaking her hair about. Popping a piece of gum into her mouth, she headed straight for the concierge desk, both of us only having one suitcase each... He saw her, he stammered, he smiled:::[/align] Concierge Room for one, or two Madam? [align=center]:::Suddenly her accent was a thick, southern drawl. I did not recognize her, as the same person I’d spoken to only moments earlier:::[/align] Gardner Oh no, Sir! We’ve already got the big room booked, hehe! Me and my HUSBAND here... We’re on our honeymoon see!? Mr. And Mrs. Gabriel Hale. [align=center]:::FADE – TO – BLACK!!:::[/align] |
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7:45 PM Jul 10