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  1. #1
    Down Since Day One Ish
    Join Date
    May 2018
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    52

    LPW VERTIGO: WASHINGTON VOTING AND PROMO THREAD


    Production camera flicks on presenting the inside of a boxing gym in Kent, Washington, a suburb just outside of Seattle. The room, jam packed with boxing and wrestling fans, watch on as a young prospect hits a heavy bag as LPW Heavyweight Champion Mourn Despana and Reece Raymond look on. The publicity session, being filmed by not only LPW cameras, but local TV cameras as well, films the young dark skinned boxer’s routine to polite claps from the two wrestlers and those in attendance. Once the display is finished Reece hands the LPW Champion gloves of his own and tapes the wrists tight to secure them for his boss. Once done, the prospect steps aside as Mourn comes over to the bag.

    Despana: Now, boxing was my first love. My father was hugely into that when he was younger. All the Mexican kids in his area were.

    The champ starts laying in a few jabs, nothing too impressive in skill, but the impact behind each power jab leave a nice impression being on the facade of the bag.

    Despana: If you can imagine how much my wife doesn’t like that I take blows to the head in wrestling, think if I was a boxer. I envy those who dedicate themselves to the sweet science. The heart needed to face up with a man and know you are likely to get hit with their best punch…

    Mourn rolls his eyes as commotion starts to build off camera.

    Despana: Reece, can you see what’s going on-

    An excited murmur builds amongst the crowd, and said intrigue manifests into instigating “oohs” and cheers as Chris Austin strolls into the gym as patrons form a makeshift entourage around him, as if enamored by the noted recluse’s unexpectedly public appearance. Raymond sneers, trying to force his way to Austin, who sees him.

    Austin: I’m not here to throw hands with you, kid. Doesn’t end well for you. Now … what do we have here? The Champ’s getting reacquainted with his roots? How precious.

    After laughter from the audience dies down, Mourn smirks Austin’s way.

    Despana: Reece… Austin, pleasant surprise. You want to step in the ring? I am sure someone around here can find a pair of gloves for you. We can put on a show.

    Austin: People of this gym… is this something you all want to see? A show?

    After a hearty cheer from the onlookers, Mourn shakes his head.

    Despana: Someone get this victim a pair of gloves.

    Austin: I don’t need gloves...

    Austin calmly strolls to the center ring where Mourn waits.

    Austin: Didn’t need them in Monte Carlo. Won’t need them now.

    A few large men step between Mourn and Chris, with Reece adding a layer of security behind them.

    Despana: This would be a sparring session, not a sanctioned bout. I do not think you want to risk losing food off your table, now do you ...

    Mourn grits his teeth, making sure the last bit is said quieter so the home camera barely picks it up and the audience paying attention doesn’t.

    Austin: Wait a minute… I show up to YOUR gym. In YOUR city. In front of YOUR people, and after I accept YOUR challenge to dabble in YOUR Sweet Science … YOU want me to reconsider? What happened to giving everybody a show?

    The crowd “ooos.”

    Despana: And if I pop you in the face for reals, you can get me arrested. Nice try. A show is one thing. I have a much needed match at the upcoming Vertigo. You would enjoy nothing more than to stop me from wrestling in front of my home crowd. I mean, must sting that the last time you did ...

    Austin smirks, stifling a chortle.

    Austin: For all the cameras rolling, all the people with the phones out, I want you all to get a good look at this. I accepted a challenge to throw hands from the best pure striker in LPW and he tries to use the threat of arrest as a way to dodge me calling his bluff. It’s as if he’s forgotten how we go about business against one another.

    Mourn looks off away from everyone shaking his head. He chuckles as people start to egg him on.

    Despana: I said gloves. You said no. No fight.

    Boos rain down from the crowd.

    Despana: Don’t boo me, it is THIS man who wants to take money off my plate.

    The boos lighten up a little with a few stifled chuckles.

    Despana: Ain’t nothing funny about that!

    Spectator: SO WHEN ARE YOU GUYS ACTUALLY GOING TO GO AT IT ONE-ON-ONE??

    Despana motions to Reece.

    Raymond: Session’s over! Autographs and photos will be taken out back.

    Despana: You want to come do this shit, and maybe talk this through like men? Or you gonna continue to force PR to kill your game?

    Austin grins and leaves the ring.

    Austin: PR work … like I’m the one whose brand needs protecting. To answer your question, random fan… Never. Whether it’s today, tomorrow, next week, month, year … the day I beat Mourn Despana for the LPW Heavyweight Championship, it won’t come in a straight up one-on-one match. I will have to go through him, Reece, Kassandra, and perhaps some referee he bought off.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, the Champ is a damn shady character. Damn dangerous, too. He’s as sound as there is in pure physicality. However, Mourn Despana is aware that he cannot defeat me straight up. This was proven at Altered Reality when he and his wife played yours truly like a fiddle. Fair enough. I’ll hold that L and move forward.

    Austin winks at Mourn during the last sentence, making his way to the door.

    Austin: But deep down, “Seattle’s finest” knows he couldn’t beat me one-on-one if his life -- or his reputation -- depended on it. And even if he could? Well, as we just saw this lovely afternoon … he doesn’t have the balls to even try. Good luck at Vertigo, Mourn. I’ll be watching you do what the Champ does.

    Austin then leaves. Once Austin’s out the door, Despana furiously pushes the largest of the men away and The LPW Champ looks to Reece as he motions the camera cut.

    Despana: Call Kassandra … have her get on the horn with Gorbachev … let him know, I want terms for …

    Camera cuts off




    LPW VERTIGO LIVE from the ShoWare Center in Kent, Washington!

    Event Card:

    Three-Way Dance:
    Chris Paradise (w/Enyo) vs Alex O’Rion vs Sebastian Flynn

    Singles Match:
    Phantom Lord vs. Sixx King

    LPW Western States Heritage Championship Match
    Bobino (c) vs. Matthew Kazama

    Main Event Non-Title Match:
    “The Professional” Steven Thornridge vs. LPW Champion Mourn Despana (w/Kassandra)

    PLUS! A special announcement about LPW management, the exciting location reveal for Homecoming, and an update on the health of Robert Lillehammer! AND MORE!

    Promo Only until Wed, August 14th, 2019 at 11:59pm PDT, Promo and Voting only until Friday, August 16th 2019 at 11:59pm PDT, Voting Only until Saturday, August 17th 2019 11:59pm PDT

  2. #2
    As it should be. Macho Mourn's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2018
    Posts
    294



    Hello Steve. Come on a trip with me, shall we?

    Remember when I decided to try the “good” life? You know, righteous? At about the same time we met and this whole Chris Austin mess started and I was gratefully rewarded with:

    - The kidnapping of my girl
    - Getting beaten down with the rest of the roster
    - Isolation after being reasonable
    - The loss my championship
    - An idol of mine attacking me for no reason
    - And being split from my “best friend” in the re-drafting of rosters

    Leading up to the last time I wrestled in front of my hometown at the University of Washington. I want to thank you. I would never have been Western States Heritage Champion if it were not for you.

    Now that the formalities are out of the way, I did not “need” you that night if the cage wasn’t used against me by someone. I had beaten Storme. And that’s the point. I was meant to lose. After the woman I fought for left me with a child that I thought was mine.

    I was meant to lose but had found a way to win, except a man who wasn’t involved in the match got in the way.

    That man? Chris Austin.

    A man, in this day and age, can be a woman.

    My wife, is a woman.

    A woman who was not involved in his match cost Chris Austin a chance at a title.



    Altered Reality was a great occasion.



    Through my time being side by side with you and seeing you face down below me, I have come to the realization that you are nothing more than Allana with balls. A fractured soul who goes out of his way to gratify himself in ways that seem endearing until you look underneath the surface. Ain’t that right Nova?

    You needed me to survive in this cruel world and expected ACTIONS to not have consequences.

    Well, Allana’s actions landed her in a grave …

    Killing is not my game. You are not worth the jail time. But to teach you a lesson? That I can do.

    This will be our third solo encounter. The first of which was a wrestling match between budding friends. Forced upon us when we wanted to fight anyone but ourselves.


    The second time was when I went out of my way to break that friendship in the worst way possible. I mean, what did you expect? Me, a man who survives shit, to walk up to you before the match and tell you; “We are not friends anymore. Fight me like anyone else.” No one would be that stupid.

    So, it leaves us to a question. Why are you mad at me? You should be mad at yourself.

    - Considering you chose to defend the indefensible.
    - Considering it was you who saw my actions coming and apologized, hoping it would stop me from handing you your ass.
    - Considering it was you who holds onto embarrassment when everyone else does not give enough of a hoot about Steven Thornridge to be embarrassed about you.

    The last time we fought, I aimed to prove what happens when you fuck with family issues. Instead of moving along after being saved by Al, you kept clapping. So, this third match is where I keep coming and you are witless to stop it. All you ever do is act like that guy from Austin Powers who won’t move out of the way from being flattened ... when he’s well aware all he needs to do, is leave.

    As it is, I march in straight ahead with many options to travel down a road that leads to the heaving carcass of a post match Thornridge. Just for you, I choose a steamroller.

    Hope you enjoy the slow and the agonizing reality that you could have stopped this from happening…


    As it should be.







    Kassandra Jimenez shakes her head in disgust as Gabriel changes his tie. “No.” She barks his way.

    Gabriel Jimenez, LPW's Mourn Despana, finishes the last loop without replying, his eyes looking across the room to a phone reading Reece Reymond.

    Kassie steps in front of his view. “You fuckin’ listening to me? You should have someone there with you to meet up with Austin.”

    “It is dinner.” Mourn replies while trying to rubberneck around his wife’s head. “That is all. You have had meals with your enemy. Sometimes you must find common ground to make-”

    Kassandra turns to see what Reece is doing. After a small laugh from Reece, the champ and his wife both smile his way.

    Sensing the uncomfortable gaze laid upon him, Reece’s face snaps upwards. “Yes? Chatting with my mechanic.”

    “Cool... ” Kassandra says. “You want us to hire your mechanic?

    “Huh? No, she’s a friend, not my mechanic mechanic.”

    Kassie scoffss his way while slowly heading to where he’s seated. “Is she a good mechanic with just her body, or is she good with her hands as well?”

    Reece, eyes wide, waves his hands in the air. “Whoa. No. NO. Just a fan.”

    “And your other half?” Kassie shakes her head. “Would she buy this?”

    Reece’s face turns pale. “No…”

    Kassie extends her hand.

    Reece stares at her in shock. “Really?”

    “For real reals.” Her serious gaze not leaving his face. “I insist.”

    “It’s personal-”

    “IN-” She pulls her hand in and back out asking for it again. Her eyes slowly gaining in anger “SIST.”

    “I’d do what she asks Reece.” Mourn pipes in. “This isn’t life and death, is it?”

    He sighs. “Here.” He hands the phone over. “Seriously, all she does is ask if I am okay and how my day is. Sometimes a funny meme. We met when I was in Vegas. She’s-”

    Mourn interrupts. “Not a fan!”

    During Reece’s spiel, Kassie’s nimble fingers are fast at work. She pulls out her phone, types something in, and hands it back to him.

    “Dipshit…” She responds. “You were doing work for us. She’s trying to keep tabs on you. Likely has your number watched. Once it pops on, she knows where you are and can track us.”

    Kassie turns to Mourn who shakes his head in disappointment. He addresses Reece after a sigh. “This is a lesson Reece. Once is a mistake. Twice isn’t acceptable.”

    Reece nods, soaking in the warning. “I... listen, I didn't mean an-.”

    “Stop it Reece.” Kassie playfully slugs him in the shoulder. “No one’s dead. It’s a local number, I’ll get on finding out who the fuck she is and do what should be done. It will be stopped.”

    “Hey, take it easy on her. She seems nice and I appreciate the support.” Reece’s confused eyes looking towards Kassie.

    Mourn walks over and sits next to Reece.

    “A god doesn’t answer every prayer, and a wrestler shouldn’t care for every fan. We provide a service and such, have the right to refuse our services to anyone. Especially to the female variety. One mistake and your life can be ruined. Take it from a man who almost lost everything from a female he trusted.” Mourn pats him on the shoulder. “Take the day off and clear your head. But for god's sake, dodge the texts from female fans. Might as well have them slide into your DMs.’ Mourn pulls out his wallet and stuffs a few bills into Reece’s inside coat pocket. “Now, I have dinner to make it to. Keep your phone open… just in case.” Mourn stands as Kassie heads to the door. “My wife will make sure this is a fan issue, not worse.”






    Save the games for once Austin. Be straight up. Give me the respect I deserve.

    We know each other’s game. Why not? We have only been fighting for five years. Four after we needed to. I, the man who orchestrated the biggest failure of your career, give this to you as a courtesy. A Hail Mary.

    There will be no violence during a meal. To do so is against my creed.

    But this is our last chance to stop what is coming. And here’s me, once again, being the voice of reason…







    Kassie adjusts her business skirt and steps through the door of the Japanese restaurant, gazing out at the the international district of Seattle Washington. She swiftly pulls out the keys to her Maserati before her body becomes rigid, feeling a malicious stare on her back. She turns around and locks eyes with Chris Austin, who is neatly dressed in jeans and a blazer and has been on the premises for the past 45 minutes. He slowly removes his shades and tucks them in the collar of a crisp white T-shirt. Making it a point to relax his formerly clenched, vengeance-starved hands, Austin slowly approaches the woman as his dog tags click and clack off of the frames and his eyes dart about, learning his surroundings.

    She sighs his way and slowly walks past. “I wish I could be sorry for what happened.” She softly says. “You know?”

    “No. You don’t.”

    “I have my loyalties, and you yours.” She pauses her step. “I know what’s coming. Make sure it’s clean and the aim pure. You’ll likely get one shot.” She toothily smiles over her shoulder. “Enjoy the food.” She nods his way and continues on her path.

    “One day, you’ll learn that sometimes, Gabriel needs to solve his own problems. This is clearly not that day. But I’m sure he’ll appreciate this sacrifice and those to come. Good night...” Austin sneers. “Unless you find it best to join us. My treat.

    With that, Austin bows and walks away, leaving Kassandra visibly offended.






    A young Japanese waitress finishes retrieving the dishes from in front of the men. She re-fills Mourn’s sake and Austin’s water respectively and bows to both before leaving.

    Mourn smiles across the table. “She has definitely earned her tip. Very good work by her… far better than when she first started...”

    “She’s earned more than that. But now’s not the place for baser urges to win out,” Austin says. “Not a bad choice of fare on your part.”

    Surprised at the compliment, Mourn toasts his drink Austin’s way before taking a sip. “I’d say ‘any time’ but, well…” Mourn barely holds in a chuckle.

    “Baby steps, of course. There’s still that ugly elephant in the room to address. Also… about that incident at the boxing gym…” Austin exhales. “Probably could have gone about that a different way. But you know, selling tickets, gaining fan interest. That’s part of what we do now.”

    “You really think the trash talk backstage loses me sleep? Dude, let people talk. Man… There is an allure to being able to pop off once in a while… but more of one to me to shut you up when you do.” He winks his way. “I figure you think the same.”

    “You and I both know every word said… was meant,” Austin says before taking a sip of water. “But as you like to say, there’s a time and place for business.”

    “If it is a match you want, you do not need to fly halfway across the world to DDT me in a casino to get one…” He winces. “Good move by the way. Never thought of perfecting it. Seemed too… I dunno… you do you…”

    “At the time I felt you needed to know how serious I was,” Austin says with a shrug. “But I learned in high school that simple done well wins ball games. Your recent rise to glory was an admittedly bitter reminder of that, and …”

    Austin hesitates to rub his jaw, it having had a recent run-in with the champion’s elbow before continuing. “... let’s just say that some of the best lessons come from the unlikeliest of sources.”

    “What is it you want? When I was younger, I figured out what happens when you don’t accept openings and such.” Gabriel sips his alcohol. “I guess… I looked at the tape, I know what you tried…”

    “Ah, the business portion of the deal. Cutting right to it,” Austin says before placing his hands together contemplatively. He exhales. “Isn’t it obvious? You have something I feel belongs to me. I plan to take it, as you well know, and you have different designs. The site and stipulations don’t matter to me. But I’d like to see you fight the battle as the champion you believe yourself to be. Alone. Me versus You. No torches, no valets, no young boys. Better man wins.”

    “In all fairness.” Mourn sits up. “How am I to believe you? The one time I asked you not to do anything, you did exactly what I asked you not to.”

    “You still won, and I almost broke Thornridge’s neck in response to his interference. In retrospect that seems like it came up aces for you,” Austin says with a smirk.

    “That sounds like something I would come up with to justify something. You know you had a shot coming from me.” Mourn’s hand grips the table. “I held up my end of our bargain. And I won our match within the rules that were set. Even though I risked every bit of my opportunity for your stupid ass.”

    Austin’s eyes close. The residual sting of Mourn’s final two words sparks off a certain darkness within the Student of the Game.

    “Guy makes one mistake and he’s suddenly a stupid ass...” he utters. “You sure you want to stand on that, Champ?”

    “I never claimed to be a genius. I have only claimed to be able to use what amount of intelligence I have better than, well, you for one.” Mourn sneers. “You, a man of perfecting the simple steps in life, should know when you sit across someone who is as capable of such a task. We have our strengths. But the path to where we’ve reached was arrived through the same amount of dedication.”

    “I see,” Austin says with a snarling low tone. “Plan B it is. Perhaps … as you say ... as it should be.”

    “You want a match, correct? If so, just ask. That’s all I ever wanted. I can get you a one on one match. I have a stip-”

    “I asked already. You of ALL people danced around the matter and called my integrity into question,” Austin cuts. “So plan B it is, Gabriel.”

    “This feels like more of the same from Chris Austin. His way or no way. Sounds like fear to me.” Mourn sits at attention. “Is it?”

    “Rich coming from a megalomaniac. Takes one to know one perhaps,” Austin says. “But now that I have your attention… hmm… how should I put this…”

    “Get on with it. My time is money. Unless you want to buy my time of course... ” Mourn sneers. “If you are hinting anywhere what I think, I suggest remembering who I am. I do not want it this way. Give me SOMETHING to believe in…”

    “Neither do I, Gabriel. But at this point … you should have figured out what kind of person I am after Monaco. You think your wife hasn’t figured out the same yet?”

    Mourn stands from the table. “You do it, there will be hell. You do not want that.”

    “Neither do you,” Austin says as he rises, and throws two $100 bills on the table. “But yet you told her to open the gate.”

    “As you have always said…” Mourn extends his arm motioning the man out the door. “I never had… a choice…”

    Austin’s head drops and he smiles. “Neither one of us did. See you around, Champ.”

    Mourn waves him off and stomps out of the room, blowing past the waitress who tries to thank him. Austin offers a warm smile to the waitress and apologizes on Mourn’s behalf.

    “Don’t mind him. He has a business matter to tend to.”






    [Later that night.]


    Kassie taps her steering wheel with her phone up against her ear. ”And?”

    “We know this number” A thick Japanese accent voice says from the other side of the phone. A hint of annoyance building. “Wait.”

    ”Shit.”

    “Okay.” The man returns after several minutes. “Eastside. Call when you are in the area. Come alone.”



    Why juggle a shitty personal life and a shitty professional life? If you choose the hard fought way of dividing time between the two you never reach your potential. That happened when I was both a runner then when I was an actress. Both taught me to work harder. And to live harder. That’s why my ass loves my husband. Dedication is a hard road. Being the best takes sacrifice. That’s why I’m here. To make that sacrifice as easy on him as I can.

    I dedicated sixteen years of my life to a craft. Each step taught skills I needed to survive. This job sent me to every corner of the globe. Drinking. Eating. Fucking. All I had to do is make sure my phone was on call, and I didn’t care what man wanted my time. Every bit of those moments taught me about people. How to read them. And, of course, how to trick them.

    It was a thrillride of drugs and forgotten nights in which I never accepted a dime for extra activities. But when the clock was on, no family, no games, no distractions. Nothing ever to tie me down… well, not without my permission.

    The trick was to never refuse a job. And never ask questions.

    My future is paramount and contingent on standing side by side with the one person who believes in me. Questioning me about my past would be dangerous for your health…

    C'est la vie.




    Half an hour later, Kassie stands at a city block adhering to the instructions of her return call. She impatiently taps her toes on the pavement while leaning against a lamppost. A nearby conversation catches her ear when a second, recognizable, voice reaches her ear.

    “You sure you have to leave?” Mei Im pleads.

    “I wish I had the time.” The woman responds. “But, I have other plans too. You’d understand.” The small woman, wearing a hoodie, gives the woman a hug. “I’ll see you around Love you. Be safe.”

    After the door closes the young woman stomps down the steps. Once near Kassie, the light brings the woman’s features into view. Her face round with obvious Asian features. Glistening almost tan skin and dark make-up on her face. The biggest thing that stands out from the baggy clothed woman is her eyes.

    “You’re definitely his daughter.” Kassandra fights through chills to deliver a warm smile the young woman’s way.

    The woman across from her stays stoic. “You know a place we can talk, alone?”

    Kassie slowly nods. “My contact has a place. Follow me.”

    The two walk a few blocks while Kassie texts away. They reach a large house and stroll through a side gate, and along a small path to the backyard towards a large covered botanical garden. Once there, the door is held open by an elderly man who nods to both women. Kassie slips the man something and he leaves them alone.

    “My father…” Mourn’s daughter responds. “ You texted him, didn’t you?”

    “I see you are connected...” Kassie responds disappointingly. “What do I call you?”

    “Marilith is my birth name.” She stares at the Kassie, her brown eyes studying the movements of her guest. “Maririsu in Japan. I know what you are...” She straightens her posture trying to look bigger than her 4’8” self. “Your work before marriage, you enjoy it?”

    “At times.” Kassandra calmly responds with her hands folded over her chest. “Why?”

    “Figures...” Marilith snickers. “You ever kill an innocent? Someone not involved.”

    “Sometimes there has to be collateral damage.” Kassandra keeps a straight face

    “The first?” Marilith shakes her head. “They say the first is what shapes a killer.”

    Kassie’s poker face cracks slightly as she sneers towards the smaller woman. “I had no choice. It was her life or mine.”

    “You ever find redemption? Saved a life that was forfeit? ”

    “I stopped your father from killing himself.” She sighs, looking down. “The man, who I witnessed survive by a miracle, was going to kill himself because his former ho lied to authorities.” Kassie looks away from the smaller woman.

    “This whole marriage thing…” Marilith studies her face. “This love or the best you can get?”

    “Honey, what’s with these questions?” Kassandra calmly responds.

    “You are the woman married to the only father I have.” She says defensively. She rolls her shoulders and takes a step back. “And I know my father deserves better.”

    “Not my job to make you happy.” Kassandra’s face starts to turn red. “Your father and I didn’t need a bunch of shit like romance to know we love one another. Besides, not many people can deal with us, you know?” She holds back a curse.

    Marilith shakes her head. “I bet you are willing to burn everything in your family’s way just to get ahead.”

    “I will if I have to…” Kassandra shrugs. “Would you be against my prosperity little one?”

    Both women stare at one another until Kassie tries to break the tension with a smirk that causes Mary to take a step another back.

    Kassie shrugs. “I see it like this.” Her voice dry, emotionless. “To most, because of my profession, I am irredeemable. Not in his eyes. If he can forgive and be proven wrong about someone, that makes him more pious and righteous than anything you have in mind.”

    After a pained smirk the young woman starts to walk away. Kassandra, after thinking, starts to close the distance. After a few steps, Marilith spins on her heels and points a revolver at Kassie.

    “I’d like a father that doesn’t die young because his bitch can’t help him like she did before.” Marilith says with a smile. “I’d be very careful, murderer. I kill you here, he would never find out you met me. I may even find the moment, pleasurable. I’ll be around. Watching you. Always.”

    Kassandra stays frozen in place. Her face blank staring down the barrel of the gun.

    Mary retreats a few steps and slips out the garden.

    Once the door to the covered garden is closed Kassandra lets out a breath. The Dark Maiden’s shaking hand slowly moves away from the holster of her concealed firearm.

    Kassandra waits, blankly staring forward, until the garden opens again. When Gabriel quickly enters Kassie looks towards her husband and sighs exasperatedly.

    “You…” Mourn looks around expecting someone else there. “Okay?”

    “No…” She mumbles.

    “You want a drink?” Mourn smiles hopefully at her.

    Kassandra forces out a smile. “You too?”



    Last edited by Macho Mourn; 3 Days Ago at 10:32 PM.


    “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."

  3. #3
    "They're ready for you now, Mr. Flynn." says Blake, the staffer tasked with handling Sebastian's integration into the LPW, as he pokes his head out from an office door.

    Sebastian nods. He knew they were ready. He'd already heard them say so. He also knew they weren't best pleased that he didn't appear for his scheduled interview slot with Rose in Oregon a few weeks back and that what lay in front of him now was a flex from the powers that be to show Mr. Flynn that there are consequences to his actions. He was happy to play along.


    This should be fun.

    "Where's the camera crew?" asked Flynn, glancing around a makeshift office with very little else other than Blake and two others looking back at him, "And Rose, is she not doing this interview?"

    Like little worker bees, getting on with the tasks they feel are oh so important making them completely oblivious to the spiderwebs web being built around them.

    "My name's Jules, I'll be carrying out today's interview." Says a rotund woman, early 40's, jet black hair who is sat behind a desk with a laptop open in front of her. "And this is Phil." she points to a slim, balding man with glasses stood behind her. Phil's eyes are fixed on the computer screen, his gaze lifts momentarily to briefly acknowledge Sebastian's existence.

    "I think we've got our wires crossed here, I was supposed to be having an interview with Ro-"

    "I think I can expl-" Blake tries to interject before being cut off himself.

    "Given you couldn't find the time in your busy schedule to attend your previously arranged interview slot - a prime time, mid show slot - your segment has been dropped to a written piece in the monthly magazine." snapped Jules.

    "Oh, fantastic. I'm much more of a fan of the written word anyway. Sometimes my accent distracts people from what I'm actually saying. That and my face." Flynn's finger circles his face, a cheesy grin appears. "Money maker."

    "Phhft." Jules lets a disapproving snort escape from her nostrils while Phil's expression morphs from 'don't want to be here' to 'really don't want to be here'.

    Flynn's grin widens.


    You know how they say dogs can smell fear? It's true...well I can't be sure but I'd tend to believe it. I believe it because I can smell fear. Not in a Bob's Burgers type of way, more in that fear, happiness, lust, anger and other emotions are just like fruit, they've all their own scent - and I can smell them.

    I bet you'd never guess what fear actually smells like. What do you think? Go on, have a guess.

    Wrong.

    Wrong again.

    It's creamy. Fear smells creamy. I'm telling you. It's like sweet milk or a pink rose. That's why I sometimes think half of you fuckers can smell it too, only reason I can see why you're constantly trying to instil it. It took me a while to work out the scents of each emotion, some are stronger than others and from person to person it varies. Some people are smelly...and some are not. Right now, Jules has a faint stink of pepper. Pepper generally signifies anger, but by god I'm not quite sure what I've done to merit that reaction!

    "Shall we start, my dear?" asks Flynn.

    “Sooner we start, the sooner we’re done.” Snaps Jules, causing Blake to let out a small bubble of nervous laughter. She flicks through her notes, rustling at papers and crossing a few lines out with a pen. “We don’t need that” she says to herself as her pen moves down the page before circling something and nodding.

    Sebastian was watching through her eyes as she scribbled through some highlighted text - “How did you feel after winning your first match against Andy Savana?”- before her eyes stop on the text “Generic question about future”.

    “Where do you see yourself in five years’ time?” asks Jules in a monotone voice.

    “Aww, I hoped you would ask me about my encounter with Savana.” Replies Sebastian, causing Jules to do a double take on her notes and glance toward Phil with slight confusion. "I’d love the readers to experience the nerves, the excitement and the victory with me!”

    “Eh- no, we’ll just start off with the question about your future.”

    “What was it again? You have a beautiful haircut by the way.”

    Jules head juts back, creating a wonderful double chin, and her eyes narrow on Flynn, “Where do you see yourself in five years’ time?”

    “Oh, well in five years time we could be walking round a zoo, with the sun shining down over me and you..” replies Sebastian in song.

    Jules’ grimaces and turns to Phil who shakes his head disapprovingly back.

    Peppery.

    Phil reaches over Jules shoulder and taps the screen. 'Bad boy'?

    "You've been called a Bad Boy, is that an image you're trying to portray?" questions Jules halfheartedly.

    "Who's been calling me that?" Answers Sebastian through a toothy grin, "Yourself?"

    Peppery. Heart rate is rising. Sweat glands are beginning to kick into gear to cool this boiler back down. Keep buzzing little bee, I've almost got you.

    "Listen, I don't want to be here. You clearly aren't taking this seriously. Can you please just answer the question so we can put something to print for this god forsaken newsletter that nobody reads and you can go and do whatever it is you type do with yourself."

    "You need to take a breath, Julie."

    "Jules." says Blake apologetically.

    "That's what I said, isn't it? No? My apologies." Sebastian smiles politely.

    Jules clenches her jaw and applies fingertip pressure to her temples. Snorting hot air from her creased up nose she turns to Phil who's lifeless expression doesn't change other than the raising of an eyebrow for a split second. The silence is awkward. For them. She turns to Blake.

    "Can you do som-"

    "Why so prickly, Jules?" Sebastian interrupts her this time, as she sharply inhales preparing to respond he continues, "I get it, you feel like you've been gave a shitty hand. We're punishing this guy for no showing his last interview...hmmm..what's a good punishment, oh I know, an interview with Jules! How does that make you feel? That they deem punishment for me is talking to you? The higher ups feel an ample amount of discipline is me spending ten minutes with you. Your self worth must be on the floor."

    Jules deflates. Phil slinks back into his seat, his gormless ghoul-like face morphing into one of clear discomfort.

    The peppery taste of anger is dissipating. The flies are caught in the web. What's that on my pallet? The sour taste of self loathing. Like a lemon drop to the eye ball. Jules got issues, man.

    "Look, I don't know who you pissed off to deserve to be the punishment, but fuck them guys. Turn this around. Flip it on it's head. This is an opportunity for both of us. And you too Phil." Flynn shoots an finger gun toward an unimpressed Phil, "Let's make this the finest piece of journalistic media LPW has ever seen!"

    Jules looks on sceptically. Blake scans the room nervously. Phil looks at his watch.

    "You wanted to know if I was a bad boy or something, right?" asks Flynn, "That's the narrative these guys might be trying to push but it couldn't be further from the truth. You know why I didn't make the live show? Why I missed the interview with Rose they're so keen to use as a rod for my back?"

    "Why?"

    "I was doing my shift at the homeless shelter." says Sebastian with sincerity in his voice.

    "...oh." mumbles a disarmed Jules.

    Jules, Blake and Phil look at each other with puzzlement on their faces.


    "Or was it visiting the old peoples home.." Sebastian's face contorts to a self serving smile, "Or was I actually doing lines of coke off a strippers left titty? I doesn't fucking matter, Jules. We can tell the world what we want. We can sell it. We can shape it. We can decide what people think of us, not worry about it."

    The air of confusion that engulfed the room evolves to shock before slowly graduating to a realisation that what Sebastian is saying might just be true.

    "Blake, go and get these fine people a coffee and then sit down and devise a strategy that's going to strap a rocket on my back that we can all ride to the top. Jules, Phil I know you two deserve better. You don't come in here and work your skin to the bone for nothing, you need to get recognised for the outstanding work you do for this company. Let me be the vehicle which takes you to the top."

    The two LPW employees look at each other, they glance back at the screen in from of them - Sebastian watches through Phil's eyes as Jules takes control of the mouse, hovers it over the close symbol in the top right corner of the screen before clicking - she turns to him and nods with assurance. Phil shrugs in agreement.

    "You know what, Sebastian? You're right. We're in." gleams Jules.

    Mint. It's my favourite. You fear mongering bad boys can stick your creamy tones where the sun don't shine. I want to live in a world where everything is minty fresh. Mint is the fragrance of desire. The smell of want. It is the aroma of people eating out of your hand as they believe you have what they dream of.

    "Cool. Blake, once you're back with those coffee it's brain storm time." smiles Sebastian, nodding to his newly assembled PR team, "I've another meeting I need to get to but I couldn't be leaving this in safer hands. Go team!"

    ...

    I'm not a bad guy, regardless of whatever sort of picture the management would like me to paint. It's not in me. I've never really got the whole 'bad boy' attraction. There seems to be a commonly accepted idea that there exists a direct paradox between how successful you are in business, with women, shit, with life in general and how big of a cunt you are. More cuntish, more ladies. More cunty, you get a bonus, pal. If it wasn't obvious to me growing up it sure as shit became impossible to ignore once I started to be able to smell le'ourder de'motion.

    A part of me admires people who can't help but being horrible fuckers. They just do not give a flyin' fuck who they upset as long as it gets them to where they want to be. What I can't get my head around is how people let them get away with it, and not only that there's a good chunk of people who seem to actively seek someone to make them feel shit about themselves. Fuel to the fire if you will.

    I feel for them though. There's an emptiness behind their eyes, and in their hearts. Happiness is not a scent they're familiar with it and I pity them for it. What's the point in being such a unscrupulous bastard to get what you want when you can't even enjoy the fruits of your labour? Such a waste of the little time we have on this earth.

    My aim is to be happy. Be content. Be able to look myself in the eye, give myself a wink and smile and be on my day knowing that it's going to be a good one.

    Take today for example, I took what was supposed to be a slap on the wrists for all parties and turned it into a goddamned celebration of what we could achieve. I played their little minds like a flute. Led them on an emotional rollercoaster which allowed that light bulb moment that illuminated their dark, pathetic existences with hope. With me. A little Sebastian can go a long way.

    If you only take away one thing from our time together, make it this - Don't be a dick.

    Be Sebastian Flynn.


    "Well?" asks Sebastian.

    "So far, so good." comes the reply from a husky voiced older man.

    "Any chance you'll tell me why you wanted me to get those staffers onside?"

    "It's all a part of the big picture, Sebastian. Trust the process."

    "...as if I have a choice."

    "Of course you do. Win or die. Quite straight forward from where I'm sitting."

    "When you put it like that..."

    "Chris Paradise and Alex O’Rion, what do you know about these two men?"

    "Nothing much. Blake's putting together some video footage for me."

    "Good. Study it. It's their world, Sebastian, not yours. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail."

    "I liked your pep talks better when you where beating me to a pulp."

    "Don't worry, that can be arranged. Goodluck, Sebastian. I'm sure you'll hear from us again soon."

    "Can't wait. None of the kinky stuff this time, blind folds and nose plugs really make it hard for me to get it up..."

    "Goodbye, Sebastian."

  4. #4
    The scene opens up inside of a physical rehabilitation gym where we see Phantom Lord sitting on a leg press. He is grimacing through pain as he pushes well over 500 pounds of weights with his legs. After a rep he stops and drinks some water. A young woman in a doctor's coat comes over to talk to Phantom

    Physical Therapist Excellent session today. Your knees are in probably the best shape they have been in years.

    Phantom: (annoyed tone) In Shape? I need these things to be marble columns. I have an entire company to carry.

    Physical Therapist: I have a lot of you wrestlers as clients. Why do you do all of that to your body's if it's not even...

    Phantom: I'm gonna stop you right there. You were going to say real. The scars, the broken bones, the bulging discs, it's real as real at it gets. It's the foundation of a multi million dollar company. Football players if they are lucky they'll make a lil bit of money in five years and still not made the impact I have in da business. Twenty years in and I'm as prime as time and I'm not stopping. The day all this pain, the blood loss and the sweat feels like it's not worth it...that's the day I'll say it's not real and then I'll pack all my gear into a box and throw it in a closet.

    Physical Therapist: Well, you must be proud of your accomplishments?

    Phantom: I don't show off trophy's. I show off the scars.

    The shot fades to black

    A new shot fades up from black and we see an empty arena but hear the sounds of fans chanting L P DUB...L P DUB. A the camera pans the arena, the shot goes to the ring and we see Phantom Lord standing in the middle of the ring dressed in a blue suit with a black shirt and red tie

    Phantom: It brings back a lot of memories to hear those chants. For the better part of almost eighteen years my brothers and sisters in this business have left it all here in this ring. But the world turns and hard times have come to this company and LPW is not what it used to be. This building will be packed...but it won't be sold out. We have to accept the harsh truth that we are not what we use to be. But don't worry.

    Phantom points to himself

    Phantom: There is always a real man with a plan.

    Phantom pulls out a black baseball cap from his jacket pocket that has those words across the cap and he puts it on

    Phantom: Now I know what you are thinking. Oh Phantom, you don't need to do this. You all ready are a hall of famer and have cemented your legacy that's going to be immortalized for generations to admire. I could walk away from all of this and ride off into retirement and hit the wrestling convention circuit and charge $200...NO, $300...No...$500 dollars for you to shake my hand and tell me I'm the greatest. But I wouldn't do that to you the fans. I mean to be honest, $500 is a lot for ham' n' egger's like you. You see, I have a duty...a calling if you will as one of the all time greats to ensure what I have built will flourish and prosper and reign for years to come.

    Now I look at a guy like my opponent on Vertigo...Sixx King and I ask myself what have you done to secure my legacy? You are a very talented wrestler. And I'm sure you know your way around a bar room brawl. Breaking skulls and stabbing backs. These things are not unfamiliar to you. I can respect a man like that. And if you show me your worth being in my company...I might even have a job for you. But more on that as time goes on.

    I haven't gotten myself into the best shape of my life for nothing. It all has a purpose and that is what I have learned over time. I was meant with these strong legs to carry all of the guys in the back to new heights in this business. I have benched bridges to make sure they run on the mountain peaks of my shoulders. I have done the one thing no wrestler and no fan has ever done for this business. I have sacrificed my life and my body for THIS company. I have bled to entertain YOU and I have done my jobs for the boys in the back to get a paycheck. We are in ruin and we need someone to peak up the pieces and start anew. And that someone is me.

    Because we are not what we used to be, does not mean we can't be great once again. I have seen the horizon of this company and it still shines bright. I have seen the mountains majesty and they are just as purple as the bruises that come to us every night. I have heard the trumpets call. I have heard the shots in the distance. AND I AM GOING TO FIGHT...AND YOU ARE HERE TO FIGHT WITH ME.

    And Sixx King, you will be the first stop in what I am calling a crusade. A crusade filled with VIOLENCE and BLOODSHED and your body will my podium as I stand and deliver all of you from the evil that is keeping this fed from reaching it's true potential.

    I AM GOING TO

    MAKE

    LPW

    GREAT

    AGAIN.

    Phantom leaves the ring as the shot fades to black as you once again hear the cheers L P DUB...L P DUB

  5. #5
    A million thoughts running through my brain
    Keeping my eyes wide open at night
    It’s sending me to the brink of insane
    It’s difficult keeping my thoughts to the light
    A gang assault leaving my mind under strain
    In the spotlight, an ongoing blight
    In the darkness, my mind will remain
    Until this ‘wrong’ is turned back to ‘right’



    This is something that I have been wanting and craving for some time - this one opportunity.

    Ever since you made your thoughts known through your actions the last time we faced off each other, I’ve wanted this. Not for prestige, or honour, or titles. No. The only reason I wanted this was out of pride.

    When we first began our friendship, out of the ashes I lovingly refer to as the ‘incident in Phoenix, I was proud to call you a friend and a rival. That was despite what everyone was telling me in the back, that you’re shifty, you can’t be trusted. I took pride in defending your good name, suffering verbal barbs on the way.

    Meat shield. Lapdog.

    You proved them right when you decided to lay waste to me when we faced one on one. And you did a great job in doing so, A-plus for effort. I’ll be sure to ask Nabakov to put a gold star on your file for that.

    I’m getting off-topic, but I haven’t been one to stay on track, have I? My mind is a bit scatterbrained, whether it be through concussion or my personality, or even possibly both. One thing I took comfort in, was knowing that I could possibly rely on someone, or even trust in someone.

    You taught me to be more cautious with who I associate myself with. That is a lesson I have learned two-fold now. Once from yourself, and once from Reece when he decided to be my replacement for you. I’m not dumb, I know he’ll be around somewhere. I’m sure he’ll be keeping your best interests at heart, as will your wife.

    I was the best man at your wedding. That obviously meant nothing to you.

    Let me take a breath here…

    The more I think about it, the more I believe that I was nothing more than a pawn on your chessboard, made to think I was much more than I really was. One that couldn’t possibly fathom the dizzying heights that you hold yourself on. I’m just on the bottom of the mountain, looking up at the crown on your head.

    But in the end you’re still flesh and bone, no matter how eloquently you put it. A successful and dangerous pile of flesh and bone, but still just as mortal and pathetic as I am.

    There’s only been one time before, when I have taken sole focus on a single person, entity, or thing. His name was Calvin X. Carter. Now I’ll admit in front of everyone, the fact that I was able to take him out before he caused lasting damage to this place was a fluke. But I got the job done.

    Mourn, I have no problems taking the same liberties with yourself if the opportunity arises, before you leave a bigger stain around Lords of Pain Wrestling.

    I just need one opportunity, to single you out, without any of your hired help to distract me.

    I just need one opportunity to wrap my arm in razor wire and cut and gorge out a valley of sinew and take back all the blood that was deprived from me.

    I just need one opportunity to hand down my Professional judgement to send you to the hell that you deserve.

    But don’t worry, I’m coming with you. And I will take pride in doing so.

    That, is what I will give to you Mourn Despana, out of the goodness of my heart. Sleep well, no matter what happens the future holds some painful nights for both of us.

    I just hope that’ll be the last thing we share.

    G’night to you.




    01001001 01110011 00100000 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100110 01100101 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 01100001 01101100 00111111 00001101 00001010 00001101 00001010 01011001 01100101 01110011 00101110 00100000




    Dr. Songhurst: Steven Thornridge?

    I shifted nervously in the uncomfortably padded chair as I look over to the gorgeous lady sitting beside me, gulping a little in fear of what this appointment might bring.

    “Do I have to do this?”

    Faye: You’d better if you want to be cleared in time. I’ll be waiting for you out here to make sure you don’t escape. We both know the last time you dodged a doctor’s appointment.

    The last time referred to the time I had the motorhome crash through the side of the medical practice like it was the Kool-Aid man. It caused enough confusion to get me out of there quick smart. I was sure to settle the damages outside of court, but it was the reason I was at a different practice, with a different doctor. I picked myself up and began walking down the hallway alone towards the open door of Dr. Robert Songhurst.

    Dr. Songhurst: It’s been a long time since we have had a celebrity walk through here.

    “Who was the last one?”

    Dr. Songhurst: Damon Heta. A darts player. Maybe you’ve heard of him. He recently won the Brisbane Darts Masters against a top-class field. He really took the opportunity and ran with it.

    “I must admit the name does seem familiar.”

    The bane of my life, small talk. I have never been good at it. Quite odd considering I constantly get partnered up with children during LPW events. Mostly the sickly ones who need a little bit of cheering up. I sat down on the chair as the doctor closed the door. I know I could have a repeat of F.A.D.V.O.S. crushing down the wall with a press of a button on my watch…

    Dr. Songhurst: LPW management has asked me to conduct a concussion test, but I also want to test for something else.

    “Um… what were you looking to find?”

    He’s a doctor, I know that if there was anyone I could trust, it was this guy. This guy on the other side of the world from my normal workplace in the United States. It doesn’t explain why my breath suddenly quickened, and my heart started racing. The fear of the unknown. My fingers are nervously clasping at each other, as if to find some sort of comfort here in this brightly lit room.

    Dr. Songhurst: In the past two weeks, have you found yourself feeling panicked?

    “Apart from right now?”

    Dr. Songhurst: I’ll take that as a yes then.

    This guy spoke my language it seemed. His voice was calm, fluid, straight to the point with little or no fluff. He didn’t need to impress me, and I didn’t need to impress him. It put me at ease, at least to get my fingers away from the escape button.

    Dr. Songhurst: Have you intentionally avoided anyone in hopes of making your day a little easier?

    “I have.”

    I intentionally left this meeting to the last minute. I don’t like doctors. Nothing against them, but after discovering that some LPW superstars had been implanted with a brain chip, it was hardly an area that I could consider trustworthy. Until now, seemingly.

    Dr. Songhurst: Have you ever thought of the worst case scenario when it comes to the day to day situations in your life?

    “I think…”

    I paused for a moment and thought about what I was about to say, overly cautious in giving away too much information to this man. But then again, he was nothing more than a stranger to me, so it wouldn’t hurt, right?

    “I think I’ve been having those sorts of thoughts for a very long time now. Afraid that my girlfriend will leave me, afraid that people hate me, afraid that I won’t make out of my next match alive…”

    Dr. Songhurst: It’s quite possible that you are experiencing anxiety.

    I was stopped in my tracks as I blinked at him.

    “Are you sure about that?”

    Dr. Songhurst: Outside of your work obligations, when do you go out and socialize?

    “I can’t say that I do. I keep to myself a lot. The last time I went out and socialized was with Bronx when we were tag team partners.”

    Dr. Songhurst: The Professionals, yes?

    “Yes.”

    Okay, so I know this guy is at least aware of my profession, at most a huge fan.

    Dr. Songhurst: Well at this moment I would suggest counselling however we both know you are on a tight time schedule so I think something else might be of service to you.

    I look at him reaching for his keyboard, searching through a seemingly never ending list of anxiety medication. I can’t make heads or tails of it.

    Dr. Songhurst: I’ll prescribe you some medication at least to dull down your anxiety. The medication won’t take hold for a few weeks so I will get you to come see me after the next event. What I also will suggest is to make some time to meet one of your fellow workmates outside of work. Maybe for a drink, go bowling perhaps?

    “I guess that wouldn’t be too hard to organise.”

    I did have plans to meet someone when I was back in the United States. After I had been attacked two on one, it would be good to have someone watch my back, and I do the same for them.

    Dr. Songhurst: Is there anything else?

    “Um… the concussion test?”

    Dr. Songhurst: Let’s get right onto that...

  6. #6
    I'm The Best Around

    2 months ago…

    "The Crippled Crusader" Chris Paradise and his personal caretaker Enyo stand in their locker room getting ready for their next big match, Chris begins wrapping up his wrists and turns to look at Enyo.

    "You ready to rock Enyo?"

    Enyo nods with a solemn look as she finishes lacing up her boots. Chris meanwhile stands up and is about to shut his locker when he is blindsided, his head bouncing off its frame. As Chris crumpled to the floor seeing stars he looks up at his attacker: none other than "The Master Of Darwinism" Bobino shouting something at him as his voice grew more and more distant. Enyo does her best to interfere but is taken out with a jumping knee as Bobino turns his attention back to Chris, wedging his arm in the locker door and booting it shut. A sickening crack fills the air as Paradise flops to the side clutching his arm and screaming in pain, Bobino looking satisfied with his handiwork saunters out with a smug smile as trainers flood the room attending to both Chris and Enyo.
    --------------------------------------------------------------
    A few hours later…

    "Well Mister Paradise we've looked over your X-rays and luckily it's nothing serious," the doctor replied with a smile "It's just a simple broken arm and with enough rehabilitation you could be back in the ring within 2-3 months." he continued as Chris sat on the table his arm in a cast and splint.

    "Thanks doc…" Paradise muttered as he hopped off the table with assistance from the doctor and walked back into the waiting room where Enyo sat flipping through assorted magazines as Chris approached.

    "So how are we feeling Mister Chris?" she asked her tone full of concern, "I also called Ophelia so she'll be stopping by the apartment later."

    "I'm fine...it's just a broken arm, doc said I should be back in the ring in a few months." he replied as the pair made their way out of the office.

    The pair travels down the street stopping at the nearby bus stop.

    "Well Mister Chris you should be happy, now you can stick it to LPW by collecting paychecks and not having to wrestle in that dump." Enyo said playfully punching Chris in his good arm.

    "You'd figure it would but it doesn't" Chris muttered his shoulders slumping, "Wrestling is one of the few things I'm good at so as much as I hate LPW it'll decay even quicker when I'm not around."

    "So what do you plan to do?" Enyo responded, her voice slightly muffled by the dull rumble of the bus as it pulled up.

    Chris looked back at Enyo with his trademark smirk as the bus doors opened with a hiss "The same thing we always do Enyo, it's time to train."
    --------------------------------------------------------------
    (Author's note to get the full effect of the montage play this as you read along: https://youtu.be/3-3Yok5D3Aw)

    Push it to the limit!
    Walk along the razor's edge
    But don't look down, just keep your head
    And you'll be finished.

    *Flashing along the screen is Enyo with a stopwatch barking orders as Chris ran up each set of stairs in his apartment building*

    Welcome to the limit
    (Limit)
    Take it baby one step more
    The power game's still playing so
    You better win it.

    *Cut to Chris furiously working over a speed bag while Enyo shouts motivational messages*

    Going for the back of beyond
    Nothing gonna stop you, there's nothing that strong
    So close now you're nearly at the brink
    So, push it, ooh yeah!

    *The montage ends with Chris doing a set of push ups staring with disdain at a photo of the LPW Hardcore Title before jumping up and ripping the poster off the wall as Push It To The Limit fades away and all we're left with is the voice in Chris's head.*

    "For what seems like years now LPW has done it's damnedest to cast me aside and make me look like a joke, while it does nothing but stir in it's own decay and mediocrity. Little do they know that now is when they need me the most, so I can bring real wrestling back to this company and save LPW from itself...whether they want me to or not."

    *Chris's thoughts are interrupted by Enyo barging into the room phone in hand.*

    "Great news Mister Chris, LPW has scheduled your return match now that you're back to 100%, a three way dance between yourself Alex O'Rion and Sebastian Flynn" she exclaimed excitedly waving the phone back and forth."

    "Alex O'Rion and Sebastian Flynn huh?" Chris replied as he wiped the sweat from his face and began stroking his chin in thought. "This should be interesting."
    --------------------------------------------------------------
    Present Day…

    The scene opens up on the set of the Paradise News Network as the opening theme fades out the studio lights flash to life revealing none other than "The Crippled Crusader" Chris Paradise, big smile plastered on his face as Enyo looms ever so silently behind him.

    "Hello all of you shiftless layabouts! It's certainly been awhile since I was horrifically put on the shelf with an injury thanks to that troglodyte mouth breather Bobino. However, I have excellent news for all you: I'm all healed up and ready to return!"

    A chorus of canned cheers fill the room as Chris takes the time to mockingly bow in his chair before continuing on.

    "I knew you'd all be overjoyed by the news, because I know I am! All that time that I was on the sidelines and LPW got worse and worse, festering like a fresh infection after you pull the splinter out. But don't worry everyone I'm taking the time of my busy schedule to help each and every one of you ingrates by using the power of positivity like the inspirational icon that I am! Let's get down to the nitty gritty shall we?"

    Chris reaches under the desk and pulls out a stack of papers and flips through them in a cartoonishly exaggerated motion before throwing them offscreen.

    "Turns out I'm going to be a participant in a three way dance against Alex O'Rion and Sebastian Flynn. Turns out I have no idea who either of them are so let's throw up the stats starting with Alex O'Rion, get em on the screen!"

    The lights dim as a side window flashes onto the screen showing Alex O'Rion and displaying the following:

    Name: Alex O'Rion
    Unremarkable.
    Bland
    Wallflower Supreme

    After a few moments the stat disappears and the lights brighten back up.

    "Alex O'Rion is a bit of a tricky subject...namely because I don't know the first thing about him! He walks around telling anyone he can that "You know who I am and why I'm here" and well...I hate to burst your bubble Alex but you are one of the most unremarkable people I've ever met. What laurels do you possess? What accomplishments can you claim? Do you have a single defining characteristic? Because I look at you and all I see is a mannequin made of Styrofoam.

    But you know what? That's okay. I enjoy having someone that I can mold and impart my wisdom to, someone to help me on my crusade to bring Proper Competition to this combat cesspool. I'd say we can get to know you by how you talk but it seems that you can't even do that either! What's wrong are you shy? Oh I know, you're simply in awe of such an inspirational hero like myself but don't be nervous I'm just like you! I put my pants on one leg at a time, I'm just happen to be better than you in every conceivable attribute. I look forward to meeting you in the ring Alex if for nothing else than seeing if your personality isn't completely sandblasted off, now let's move on to someone more interesting shall we?"

    The lights dim once more and the stat window pops up onto the side of the screen again however the information scrawled onto it.

    Name: Sebastian Flynn
    Tortured Soul
    Bad Guy (?)
    Don't Worry Be Happy?

    The lights come back up as the usual smirk fades from Paradise's face only to be replaced by a look of puzzled confusion.

    "Sebastian Flynn...you are definitely an enigma. They call you The Bad Boy but you couldn't care less, you smile wide and excite fans but you seem unfulfilled, you're happy but sad, yin but also yang and it is absolutely fascinating. I can tell just by watching your match against Andy Savana that you are methodical yet empty, wrestling not for enjoyment but as a distraction so you don't have to think about Sebastian Flynn. I can't even believe that I'm about to say this but I'd like to help you because at one time I was exactly like you, every day was a battle in my own head until I found something to believe in: namely my fight to bring Proper Competition into the wrestling world!

    With my spirit finally invigorated the devil on my shoulder never bothered me again. So let me ask you Sebastian, what do you believe in? Is there a way for you to escape the overwhelming dread that you put yourself through on the daily? Well I'd certainly hope so because as good as I am I don't think I could drag both of you sad sacks through a good match. So I'd like to offer you a proposal: let me help you, join my Proper Competition Campaign and fill that void in your heart with meaning for once!"

    As Chris finishes his impassioned speech he turns to look at Enyo.

    "What do you think Enyo?"

    Enyo stares forward stone faced and silent for several minutes only to slightly shrug her shoulders much to Chris's amusement.

    "That's why I like you Enyo you always know how to answer the tough questions!"

    Chris's smile suddenly falls from his face replaced by a somber scowl.

    "All of you ingrates and neophytes have treated me like a joke since day one while I have done nothing but try to educate and assist you out of the goodness of my heart, LPW it's 2019 and you've resisted the winds of change for far too long and it ends now. At Vertigo it starts with 2 ignorant boobs and that'll only mark the beginning, LPW is rotten from the inside out and it's my job to clean it. I will be the savior to each and every one of you hardcore loving mouth breathers wether you accept it or not."

    Chris cracks into a big smile as the peppy corporate theme of the Paradise News Network starts up again.

    "That's all the time we have today folks, I'm "The Crippled Crusader" Chris Paradise and I want you to remember to stay hydrated and to "End Your Silence and Tone Down The Violence!"

    The scene fades away as Paradise flashes his signature thumbs up at the screen.
    Last edited by TheCrippledCrusader; 3 Days Ago at 03:56 AM.

  7. #7
    Junior Member
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    October, 2009

    “What the hell was that Alex? You looked drunk in the ring, you could have killed that kid!” a hand slams down on a desk drawing “Are you even listening to me?”

    Slowly Alex O’Rion, former Full Metal World Champion, and current main eventer for the star studded “Nova Scotia All Star Wrestling” at the semi packed West Kings High School auditorium, looks up from the bat he rolls over and over in his hands. The one memento he keeps from his time as a star. The former Pride of Nova Scotia has gained a bit of weight, his once lustrous locks of blonde hair now tangled and unkempt. He looks up at the man across the table, one of the only promoters around still willing to put up with the former stars attitude with a sneer.

    “Kid didn’t belong in there with me anyway. Not my fault nobody taught him how to take a dive to the outside and he decided to use his neck to break his fall.” He says as he tosses the bat into a bag by his chair, pulling out a bottle of whiskey instead. The owner just shakes his head as O’Rion opens it and takes a healthy swig.

    “Maybe, maybe not. But I pay YOU to teach these kids, lord knows you don’t do much else anymore, so you need to get your shit together and TEACH! I’m gonna be docking your pay until you start earning it. Being a past star doesn’t mean anything to me if your not gonna do the job I hired you for!”

    “Maybe you should get someone else then” O’Rion mumbles around the bottle.

    “What was that?”

    “GET SOMEONE ELSE THEN! I QUIT!” O’Rion roars slamming the bottle down so hard it shatters across the mans desk. Not waiting for an answer he grabs his bag and storms out, slamming the door behind him for good measure. Walking through the darkened halls of the high school the twenty something year old man curses to himself, occasionally taking a swig of the whiskey as he heads for the exit.

    “Mr. O’Rion!” A voice calls from behind him causing the blondes shoulders to slump briefly before turning angrily, a snide remark dying on his lips as he sees who approaches. Two men of similar height dressed in fine cut black suits, and clichely wearing sunglasses inside….at night. But O’Rion recognizes these men, or at least their type. They’ve been following him ever since the day he left Full Metal, them and others, all working for the same man.

    Ethan Black.

    With a scream of pure rage O’Rion throws his bag, and the heavy metal bat in it, into the legs of the man on the right to trip him. As he falls his partner reaches into his jacket, but before he can pull it back out O’Rions foot crashes into the bridge of his nose with a sickening crack. Eyes rolling into his head as blood spurts from his deformed nose the man topples hard into lockers before coming to the ground. Alex doesn’t pay attention after the kick, years of fighting instinctively telling him the man was down.

    Turning he steps over to the first man as he starts to rise from the floor. A quick kick to the ribs puts him back down there. Alex grabs his wrist and twists, holding it behind the mans back.

    “WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT!” O’Rion screams into the mans ear, grinding his head into the tile with his free hand.

    “Mr……Mr.Black…….he wants…….to talk.” The man gasps out between pained breathes. Alex looks surprised, loosening his grip a bit, before quickly applying more pressure and breaking the wrist with a satisfying scream from the black clad man. Letting go Alex crouches next to the man and looks down with disdain.

    “You tell Black to fuck off. I’m done, with him, this, everything. He took my brothers, he took my love, he even took my fucking soul. I’ve got nothing left for him to take, so I’m done.” Taking a deep breath Alex stands and kicks the man in the head to put him out before walking away. Leaving two broken men, his bat, his wrestling gear, everything.

    “I’m done.”

    July, 2014

    The cliffs of Peggys Cove outside of Halifax, one of the most dangerous places to be in the best of times. Many people just wanting to see natures beauty have fallen to their deaths from these heights to the treacherous waters below. The man standing on the edge of the cliff knows these things, but as he takes another draw from the bottle of amber liquid he finds he doesn’t care. The whiskey burns its way down, warming him against the tempest outside. Dirty long blonde hair whips wetly around his head as the summer storm rages, lightening flashing constantly over the sea. A straggly blonde beard catches the liquid that misses his mouth as blood shot eyes stare at the rocks below him.

    The storm feels right he finds, fitting the world should rage when his was burned out.

    The bottle falls from his hands and falls the hundred feet to shatter amongst the sea spray and with a sob he takes one more hesitant step towards the edge. For five years he’s been going on as a husk, a shell where a man used to be. He died years ago, but tonight, tonight he’s finally going to lay down.

    One more step brings him to the edge and he looks down at the swirling dark waters below. The bolts of light from the heavens showing him clearly the rocks he intends to make his final resting place.

    He lifts his foot out over nothing, closes his eyes and takes one last deep breath.

    Suddenly a sound.

    He can barely hear it, he draws his foot back and keeps his eyes closed, straining.

    There!

    He can barely hear it but a faint whine and cry is coming from just down the cove. Opening his eyes he sees a small dark shape struggling in the waves just off the rocks. Without a though Alex throws himself from the cliff into the waters below just missing the rocks he had planned to use to make his grave.

    Struggling against the wind and current he makes his way closer to the shape with every stroke. His legs pumping to keep him off the rocks. Getting closer he can clearly see the shape turn into a dog, a frightened black lab fighting for its life in the water. Reaching out a hand Alex grabs hold of the dog by the scruff of its neck just as a large wave grabs both and flings them at the coast. A quick glance behind shows rocking coming quick, Alex wraps his arms around the whimpering mutt just as they hit.

    Then nothing.

    …….

    A rough tongue rasping across his face slowly bring Alex back to the land of the living, opening his eyes he’s welcomed by a big wet tongue and mop of black hair. Sitting up he looks around at the beach they’ve washed up onto. The storms broken and the sun begins to peak through. The black lab, tag wagging enthusiastically tackles O’Rion to the sand again and begins to slobber on him before the man, laughing for the first time in years pushes him off.

    Hugging the dog he notices its collar for the first time. It doesn’t have an address or owners name, just one word.

    “Hunter, eh?” the man chuckles as the dog barks to his name.

    “What ya say bye? You wanna come with me?” another bark causing the man to laugh again.

    “Alright then bye, what’s say we go find somewhere to warm up? O’Rion and Hunter, kinda has a nice ring…..”

    April, 2019

    The building is dark except for the light over the bar and a flickering TV nearby showing highlights from the most recent Lords of Pain wresting show. Hunter, the black lab showing a bit of grey along his muzzle, sits in a beat up old chair under the TV, napping. Alex stands behind the bar cleaning the last few glasses from the night, idly watching the action up on the screen, as he has more and more often the last while. Each time he does he feels a pang of something can’t quite place, but it makes him feel more and more like there is something else he should be doing than tending the bar night after night.

    “We’re closed.” He calls out hearing the door chime as it opens. His blood runs cold on the response.

    “Mr. O’Rion.”

    Slowly he raises his eyes from the glass and stares in disbelief at the two black clad, sunglass wearing men in the doorway. For a second something clicks behind Alexs eyes a slow lazy smile comes across his face. He barks out a laugh startling Hunter in his chair.

    “Ten years later. Ten fucking years later. And you two are still chasing after me? God you byes must hate me!” he gets out between chuckles. The two men don’t look amused, the ones with the shiny plastic looking nose lets a flash of rage cross his face before both resume more professional tones.

    “Mr O’Rion, Mr. Black would STILL like to talk to you. It is about a mutually beneficial deal he said.”

    “And I believe I told you” Alex says still chuckling “When I gave your partner there his sweet sixteen nose job that I was done. Also to fuck off. So once again, fuck off byes or this time Ill rearrange something more noticeable.”

    “Well, that’s not very friendly now is it, brother.”

    Alexs head whips back around towards Hunters chair and for the second time that night his blood runs cold. His heart skips a few beats as he stares at a broken mirror. Just a few inches smaller than Alex himself, dark haired instead of blonde, green eyed instead of blue, and just a few years younger. He lacks the light blonde beard Alex sports but the features are too similar to be anything but family.

    “Adrian" Alex says, his voice choked with emotion as he stares at the younger brother he hasn’t seen in nearly thirteen years.

    “Long time no see bro. You are not an easy man to find. And hiding out on the west coast, a good ole bye like you? If I hadn't killed pops that'd give him a heart attack for sure, you know how he hated Westerners.” The younger O'Rion chuckles as idly scratches hunter behind the ears. The hunting knife he holds in his free hand inches behind the dogs head as it unashamedly pushed its head into the petting.

    “Get away from my dog Adrian"

    “Now is that anyway to greet long lost family.” Adrian responds with a smirk.

    “What the fuck do you want bye? And get. The fuck. Away. From. My. Dog.” Alex bites out in response eyeing the knife warily. Adrian chuckles again and backs away from Hunter, sheathing the knife. Not needing it since the two cronies at the door had long since pulled out pistols and trained them on the man behind the bar.

    “Like Heckle and Jeckle” Adrian said pointing to the pistol toting men “Have been trying to tell you every damned time they found you and you slipped away for the last decade, Black has a deal. He wants to talk.”

    Alex closes his eyes, taking a deep breathe to keep calm. Even after a decade plus the name Ethan Black brings out strong emotions in him.

    “ Why the fuck would I ever make a deal with that fucking devil. Just because your happy sucking Satans di…””Teresa”

    Alex stops his rant cold. The name of his one tike fiancé bouncing around his head like a wrecking ball, making it impossible to think of anything else.

    “What….” He starts dumbfounded

    “You do what he asks for a specific period of time” Adrian begins, smiling like he already knew how this conversation was going to go “He lets her go. Simple.”

    Alex is quiet for a moment as he tries to collect his thoughts

    “Last time I saw her" he begins slowly “He had her so twisted she wanted to be there. She wasn’t a slave, she was his lover.”

    “Come om bro, you know as well as anyone what Black can do. Drugs, brainwashing, these are childs play. But she wasn’t meant to be that way forever. Drugs lose effectiveness and people resist being what they aren’t. She’s her again, the only value she has to the bossman is as chip to get you onside. If she isn’t good for that…..well who knows he might cut his losses.” Adrian says with a sadistic gleam in his eye and a cruel twist to his mouth. He watches as Alex’s shoulders fall. Knowing his brother even after all these years, and knowing Alex only has one real choice.

    “How do I know your telling the truth bye?” Alex says quietly.

    Adrian doesn’t respond he just pulls a cell phone from his jacket and tosses it to Alex. The older brother puts it to his ear. Immediately his eyes widen. Slowly tears form in their corners and begin to leak down his face. He doesn’t say anything, just listens before taking the phone away from his ear and tossing it back. A blank determined look dawning on his face.

    “What do I have to do.”

    Adrian jerks his thumb at the TV showing LPW.

    “What you do best.”

    August, 2019

    “I never thought I’d be here again.

    I thought I was done. I WANTED to be done.

    Or at least that’s what I thought.

    But I wrong, I may have been forced to come back, but the truth of it is.

    I needed to.

    Because inside that ring is the only place I’ve ever felt truly alive, the only place I was free to be me without any of the bullshit of life I the way. There’s still that fire inside me that burns to know can I be the best at what I love.

    So Paradise, Flynn. Here I am. And I need a favor from the two of you byes. I haven’t done in this in a long damn time. I need to find what I can still do. So I need you push me, hurt me, make me fight. Bring me your best because I NEED to know if I can still put it down for the count.

    I need to remember why I was a world champion once.

    I need you two to remind me.

    See you in there byes, this is gonna be fun"

  8. #8
    Junior Member
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    LPW VERTIGO LIVE from the ShoWare Center in Kent, Washington!

    Event Card:

    Three-Way Dance:
    Chris Paradise (w/Enyo) vs Alex O’Rion vs Sebastian Flynn
    I had to vote me, but all three promos were compelling in their own rights. Good job guys!

    Singles Match:
    Phantom Lord vs. Sixx King
    PL showing why hes been a legend long as I've been doing this.

    LPW Western States Heritage Championship Match
    Bobino (c) vs. Matthew Kazama
    Cant vote for what I cant see.

    Main Event Non-Title Match:
    “The Professional” Steven Thornridge vs. LPW Champion Mourn Despana (w/Kassandra)
    This was a tough tough choice, kudos to both.

  9. #9
    Sebastian Flynn
    Phantom Lord
    Bobino (c) - Disappointing how this played out, or did not play at all to be more accurate.
    Mourn Despana (w/Kassandra)

  10. #10
    Chris Paradise (Sorry gotta vote for myself but my opponents crushed it with promos)

    Phantom Lord (He showed up)

    Bobino (Same thing but this is a match that needs a proper build)

    Thornridge (What can I say? I like the underdogs)

  11. #11
    Down Since Day One Ish
    Join Date
    May 2018
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    52
    O'Rion
    Phantom
    Kazama
    Mourn

  12. #12
    As it should be. Macho Mourn's Avatar
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    LPW VERTIGO LIVE from the ShoWare Center in Kent, Washington!

    Event Card:

    Three-Way Dance:
    Chris Paradise (w/Enyo) vs Alex O’Rion vs Sebastian Flynn

    I wouldn't be opposed this being ran back again at some time with people knowing the stakes. Great writes by all, thoroughly enjoyed reading them a few times each.

    Paradise your best work. Keep it up. I thoroughly enjoyed it

    Flynn, you bastard. I had a few good laughs with the interview.

    O'Rion with the nod. Welcome back, and great show. Good doggo.

    Yep, you guys stole the show.

    Singles Match:
    Phantom Lord vs. Sixx King

    I vote for the promo that's here.

    Good read too.

    LPW Western States Heritage Championship Match
    Bobino (c) vs. Matthew Kazama

    Man....

    Main Event Non-Title Match:
    “The Professional” Steven Thornridge vs. LPW Champion Mourn Despana (w/Kassandra)


    Cheers, good show.

    Thanks for everything you've done for me the last cycle.
    Last edited by Macho Mourn; 2 Days Ago at 12:22 AM.


    “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."

  13. #13
    Chris Paradise
    Phantom Lord
    No Vote For No Promos
    "The Professional" Steven Thornridge

  14. #14
    As it should be. Macho Mourn's Avatar
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    294
    Bob's votes:

    Paradise
    Phantom

    Thornridge


    “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."

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