Post by Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion on Jun 27, 2016 22:36:25 GMT -5
Fifteen Minutes post-New Nebula loss
To say the air is thick with tension in my locker room after a loss is an understatement. Reo and Steelheart were visibly uncomfortable, they had not seen me walk out of a building with a hard loss. Sure they were around when I lost my championship to Samael but I still walked out of the building on that night with a victory so the air was still reasonably jovial on that night. Not tonight, tonight they’re walking on egg shells and rightly so. I would hate for one of them to open their mouth and set me off. Not to worry though because a resident group of dunces from the WFWF.com web crew came barging into my locker room with a camera in my face before Reo or Steelheart could even think about saying something. I watched as they attempted to stop these men from walking into their almost certain death but there’s no stopping a journalist when there’s a scoop to be had I guess.
A young baby faced kid who didn’t look a day older than twenty one and who looked like he had never been in the same neighborhood of a real fight sidled up right next to me, asking the camera man if he was rolling. This boy barely came up to my chest, I feel like I could probably throw him through the moon.
Richard Donaldson reporting backstage for the WFWF.com New Nebula Fallout show live on YouTube, I’m here with the current WFWF International Champion Lucas Crowe. Lucas, a hard fought match resulting in a losing effort for you here tonight getting pinned by the man you’ll be facing in a few weeks time at WFWF Superbrawl David Brennan. Are there any concerns or doubts in your mind now going forward and especially heading into the next show?
This boy has absolutely lost his mind. I glance over at Reo and Steelheart who are both standing with their hands on their heads and their eyes closed. They have a pretty good idea where this line of questioning is going to lead this strapping young fellow. I look around the room at the camera man to the production assistant encouraging me to answer the question before finally fixing my gaze upon the child stood next to me. I pretty much witnessed his soul leave his body when I made eye contact with him but there was no escape for him as I put my hand on his shoulders, making sure to close my hand like a vice grip.
Y’know I actually do have a concern. My concern is that not one of these people you came busting in here with told you about the first rule when it comes to being in the same room as Lucas Crowe after a loss.
Which would be?
As quick as a bolt of lightning I was behind young Richard Donaldson, instantly locking in the Motor City Blackout which incited an overwhelming panic from everyone in the room. I fall to the ground and grapevine the kid. Reo and Steelheart try to pry me off but I wasn’t letting up. The more I squeezed the more lifeless I could feel the man become. I wasn’t going to be satisfied until every breath in his body was gone or I popped his head off, whichever comes first. Unfortunately for me I wouldn’t get to experience either as Steelheart and Reo wedged their arms between arms and the man’s neck and eventually broke my grasp so I got off. Pretty sure my point was proven anyways.
Nobody speaks, nobody gets choked.
I grab my bag and exit the locker room with Reo and Steelheart. I would like to believe that this is the last time anyone from the website will approach me for an interview. Justin Tyme comes around the corner heading to my locker room as we were exiting. I advised him that it was probably for the best not to go in there. He got the hint, we got in his limo and left the building.
You ever get that feeling where everything you worked so hard to build is starting to crumble? I’m not talking about the feeling of the actual crumbling or destruction but that moment right before, the moment where the foundation is cracking underneath your feet. Or the feeling where everything is unravelling right before your eyes? Because it’s a new sensation for me and it’s not one I can say I’m particularly fond of.
At Black Hole Sun, my apprentice Lucas Crowe toppled my arch rival in this industry Cameron Stone. For all intents and purposes that was supposed to be it for Stone, his swan song. He was supposed to ride off into the sunset like the ing Calgarian cowboy that he is. Instead though, he robs me of that little bit of satisfaction. He couldn’t just let me have this one god damned win now could he? No, instead he claims for some reason that he is now in line for a World Heavyweight Championship match. How a loss equals a number one contender match is logic that is beyond me. And then, in a rare momentary lapse into stupidity, our fearless leader Trace Demon thought that was not too awful an idea. All Stone has to do is win a match and he’s in. It’s the stupidest kind of gambling, Demon is good but there’s such thing as a puncher’s chance. Say Stone wins, then what? We’re back to where we were before Black Hole Sun with Cameron Stone as a primary fly in the ointment when all Demon had to do was say “screw you Stone, Tyme one-upped you on this one. Have fun in Hollywood.”
And then there’s the matter of what happened in the main event of New Nebula. My client Lucas Crowe was thrust into yet another Triple Threat match, the fifty thousandth one in his short career so far and one of the competitors in that match was the man who holds the right to face Lucas at Superbrawl. And he got one over on him. Lucas had his shoulders pinned to the mat for just the third time in his career. So now I have a giant with a fractured psyche on my hands that I have to keep from completely derailing between now and Superbrawl all because of the spiteful Lila Sleater.
And completely derailing is what very well almost happened. Immediately following the triple threat match at New Nebula, Sleater thought it wise to send a camera crew from WFWF.com into Crowe’s locker room to ask him questions about the loss with predictable results. Now Crowe faces a five thousand dollar fine which will be coming out of my pocket and he’s under an administrative watch with one strike against him. Further violence against non-in ring WFWF contracted employees will result in a thirty-day suspension is what I have been told.
If this doesn’t scream “crumbling of the foundation of a solid alliance” then I’m not really sure what does. Superbrawl is only a few months away and Lucas has the chance to do something I never really had the chance to do. I just hope that I can reign him in before he does something really stupid.
Justin and I agreed that the best thing to do for the next couple of days is to completely separate myself from all things wrestling to let the post-New Nebula incident cool off a bit. So I took the opportunity to drive from Pensacola all the way up to Detroit where I planned on putting some training in at the gym I used to frequent. The driving part of it was to give me time to completely clear my head so I was in the proper frame of mind to learn some new stuff. Also on the agenda, or should I say primarily, was meeting up with Amy Sanders.
It’s been harder and harder to keep the interactions with Amy hidden from Justin Tyme. He had expressly forbidden me from interacting with anyone from my former life, citing them as toxic distractions. So even though it’s almost like the father refusing to give his blessing to marry his daughter olde tyme style it still feels like every time I call her or see her that I’m putting my head into the guillotine, just begging Justin to chop it off. I find myself questioning at times why I’m so willing to risk rocking the very, very comfortable boat I’m sitting in.
But then I actually see her and I’m reminded why I’m more than willing to take the risk. I knock on her front door and she answers looking as drop dead gorgeous as ever with a smile that always disarms me. She invites me in with a wave of her arm and I don’t even hesitate. I do stop to give her a businesslike half hug, you know to make sure she knows that these meetings are purely professional based. There’s no time for a personal relationship, not with anyone if I am to stay on top of my game. It’s something I’ve gone out of my way to establish. When Reo asks if I want to go to the clubs with him I tell him that we’re not friends, we’re associates and associates shouldn’t be going to the clubs together. It’s really just my excuse to not have to go the clubs with Reo and play his wingman/bouncer all night.
We both sit on her couch, her gazed fixed on me and me zoned out getting sucked into my own head for a few moments. She puts her hand on mine and I’m snapped back to the present moment.
I’m coming apart at the seams Amy.
She cocks her head quizzically, not fully understanding what I meant.
I had the most dominant rookie year in recent WFWF history, I won three championships inside of one year. I am regarded by many now as one of the top prospects in this industry when at the start people wouldn’t even give me the time of day. Certainly not people of Drakz or Trace Demon’s caliber. Now I found myself in a position where I’m near the top of the summit, I’m in a position where Trace and Drakz view me as a valuable asset and yet… Yet I feel like I’m not viewed as their equal on any ground.
It’s because they don’t view you as being on equal ground. They view you as a valuable asset. An asset that is expendable. It is the exact same way that Justin Tyme has viewed you for some time now. But that’s not what you really are. The fact that they can’t see anything in you beyond dollar signs and security is going to be a mistake that is going to alter the face of this industry as a whole, not just the WFWF. You are going to change the meaning of big money main event star because there has never been anything like you.
Look at you, you stand at nearly seven feet tall and weigh in at over three hundred pounds. By all accounts you are an absolute monster. And yet there have been people of similar stature to enter the WFWF before you and there will be after you. But none of them came into this with the kind of background that you have in combat sports. None of them spent a year under the employ of one of the slimiest players in the game, learning all of the underhanded tactics available to a person without a conscience. None of them formed an unholy alliance with the most dastardly bunghole in this companies history, and because of that none of them felt the power of being completely untouchable. None of them forged a similar allegiance with the WFWF Champion, the man on the silver mountain. An allegiance that you solidified by being the primary assist in allowing him to retain that coveted championship.
There has never been a person of your stature to enter the WFWF and amass the amount of success and learning experiences inside of one year. And I don’t think there ever will be anyone like you after it’s all said and done.
She just gave me the best pep talk I’ve ever received in my life. Nothing Justin Tyme has ever said to me has ever compared to that. Because to insinuate I might be on his level if not higher now would crush his own ego. Never mind the idea that I might be well on my way to being the heir to the throne when Drakz and Trace are finished, something Justin Tyme never even sniffed in his career.
So what’s going through your head now champ?
I think that after a year plus of sitting at the right hand of the devil himself that it might be time for me to assume my rightful place as the new king of sleaze in the WFWF.
That’s not rea-
You’re absolutely right Amy, I have picked up all of the proverbial tricks of the trade from the snake. I am thinking that the old dog has no newer tricks that he can teach me.
You’re also starting to talk in cheesy quips like him which is… unsettling.
It’s time to put the plan in action where we put the snake’s head into the guillotine before mine ends up in there first.
Oh for crying out …
Sorry Amy, I guess there’s some unwanted side effects of being around the man for so long. I just hope that once the dust settles that it’s something that is easy to forget.[/b]
There’s literally no such thing as a wanted side effect of being around Justin Tyme. But the less crapty ones are going to help you survive in the shark infested waters of the WFWF.
I made the choice to completely ignore the fact that Amy just made a lame, generic quip herself. Instead we opted to pop open a strictly professional bottle of wine to enjoy while I catch up with her on non-wrestling related goings on. Strictly professional lines of questioning. All business.
You have not been placed in a particularly enviable position Mr. Bishop. And against my better brainwashed instincts I’m going to resist the urge to make a tired chess related joke. You are joining the very long list of superstars that took leave from the WFWF only to come back and almost immediately get thrust into my path. The problem is that the idea of it is even more sour to me now than it was a few weeks ago.
Prior to New Nebula I just viewed it as sad, pathetic so called stars trying to clutch onto their spotlight by mixing it up with the hottest prospect in the WFWF. They never seemed to offer up much in the way of any sort of meaningful opposition. But as you might have noticed, that changed at New Nebula. In case you weren’t following along though I’ll give you a quick overview. David Brennan waltzes his way back into the WFWF, wins a triple threat match to become the number 1 contender for my newly won WFWF International Championship which I believe would be the “almost immediately thrust into my path” I alluded to earlier. But the icing on the cake is that at New Nebula he actually pinned my shoulders to the mat. He’s only the third person to actually pin my shoulders. Now I have a whole different view on these guys that take a hiatus only to waltz back in and thrust themselves into my spotlight. The timing of which works out poorly for you.
The last time I lost a match I rebounded with such unrivalled rage that I threatened to paint my opponent’s body with his own blood. Now despite what you might have read on the internet, I’ve learned to keep my composure much more effectively following a loss. Justin has taught me breathing exercises and has me listening to The Way Of Zen just to keep me from flying off the tracks. But that doesn’t mean that you’re going to have any chance of escaping this match unscathed. No, see despite the fact that I have no real rhyme or reason to do any sort of meaningful harm to you, you do represent David Brennan in a sense and for that I might just pop your head off. Then there’s a possibility I rip your spine out and play jump rope with it.
Whoops, there I go losing that composure again. Joe Bishop I do extend my deepest and most sincere of apologies to you but really you barely stood a chance against me when I wasn’t a hypergiant ball of nearly uncontrollable rage. I’m going to try my best not to put an end to your triumphant return run so early on but I’ve also learned it’s best not to make any promises in this business. And I suppose that’s the best I can do for you. I might maim you, I might break some bones and I’ll most certainly choke you out but I’ll let you live to fight another day. And that’s the closest thing to a promise you’re going to get from me.
OOC: I struggled mightily with this one, just nothing was coming to my head. I had the idea of Lucas snapping and Justin Tyme starting to feel a little bit of pressure because I'm trying to keep people guessing on who's going to pull the trigger on the separation first but that's really all I had. Not my best, not the longest but I still enjoyed writing the monologue pieces the most.
To say the air is thick with tension in my locker room after a loss is an understatement. Reo and Steelheart were visibly uncomfortable, they had not seen me walk out of a building with a hard loss. Sure they were around when I lost my championship to Samael but I still walked out of the building on that night with a victory so the air was still reasonably jovial on that night. Not tonight, tonight they’re walking on egg shells and rightly so. I would hate for one of them to open their mouth and set me off. Not to worry though because a resident group of dunces from the WFWF.com web crew came barging into my locker room with a camera in my face before Reo or Steelheart could even think about saying something. I watched as they attempted to stop these men from walking into their almost certain death but there’s no stopping a journalist when there’s a scoop to be had I guess.
A young baby faced kid who didn’t look a day older than twenty one and who looked like he had never been in the same neighborhood of a real fight sidled up right next to me, asking the camera man if he was rolling. This boy barely came up to my chest, I feel like I could probably throw him through the moon.
Richard Donaldson reporting backstage for the WFWF.com New Nebula Fallout show live on YouTube, I’m here with the current WFWF International Champion Lucas Crowe. Lucas, a hard fought match resulting in a losing effort for you here tonight getting pinned by the man you’ll be facing in a few weeks time at WFWF Superbrawl David Brennan. Are there any concerns or doubts in your mind now going forward and especially heading into the next show?
This boy has absolutely lost his mind. I glance over at Reo and Steelheart who are both standing with their hands on their heads and their eyes closed. They have a pretty good idea where this line of questioning is going to lead this strapping young fellow. I look around the room at the camera man to the production assistant encouraging me to answer the question before finally fixing my gaze upon the child stood next to me. I pretty much witnessed his soul leave his body when I made eye contact with him but there was no escape for him as I put my hand on his shoulders, making sure to close my hand like a vice grip.
Y’know I actually do have a concern. My concern is that not one of these people you came busting in here with told you about the first rule when it comes to being in the same room as Lucas Crowe after a loss.
Which would be?
As quick as a bolt of lightning I was behind young Richard Donaldson, instantly locking in the Motor City Blackout which incited an overwhelming panic from everyone in the room. I fall to the ground and grapevine the kid. Reo and Steelheart try to pry me off but I wasn’t letting up. The more I squeezed the more lifeless I could feel the man become. I wasn’t going to be satisfied until every breath in his body was gone or I popped his head off, whichever comes first. Unfortunately for me I wouldn’t get to experience either as Steelheart and Reo wedged their arms between arms and the man’s neck and eventually broke my grasp so I got off. Pretty sure my point was proven anyways.
Nobody speaks, nobody gets choked.
I grab my bag and exit the locker room with Reo and Steelheart. I would like to believe that this is the last time anyone from the website will approach me for an interview. Justin Tyme comes around the corner heading to my locker room as we were exiting. I advised him that it was probably for the best not to go in there. He got the hint, we got in his limo and left the building.
Justin Tyme Chapter 5: Running On Empty
You ever get that feeling where everything you worked so hard to build is starting to crumble? I’m not talking about the feeling of the actual crumbling or destruction but that moment right before, the moment where the foundation is cracking underneath your feet. Or the feeling where everything is unravelling right before your eyes? Because it’s a new sensation for me and it’s not one I can say I’m particularly fond of.
At Black Hole Sun, my apprentice Lucas Crowe toppled my arch rival in this industry Cameron Stone. For all intents and purposes that was supposed to be it for Stone, his swan song. He was supposed to ride off into the sunset like the ing Calgarian cowboy that he is. Instead though, he robs me of that little bit of satisfaction. He couldn’t just let me have this one god damned win now could he? No, instead he claims for some reason that he is now in line for a World Heavyweight Championship match. How a loss equals a number one contender match is logic that is beyond me. And then, in a rare momentary lapse into stupidity, our fearless leader Trace Demon thought that was not too awful an idea. All Stone has to do is win a match and he’s in. It’s the stupidest kind of gambling, Demon is good but there’s such thing as a puncher’s chance. Say Stone wins, then what? We’re back to where we were before Black Hole Sun with Cameron Stone as a primary fly in the ointment when all Demon had to do was say “screw you Stone, Tyme one-upped you on this one. Have fun in Hollywood.”
And then there’s the matter of what happened in the main event of New Nebula. My client Lucas Crowe was thrust into yet another Triple Threat match, the fifty thousandth one in his short career so far and one of the competitors in that match was the man who holds the right to face Lucas at Superbrawl. And he got one over on him. Lucas had his shoulders pinned to the mat for just the third time in his career. So now I have a giant with a fractured psyche on my hands that I have to keep from completely derailing between now and Superbrawl all because of the spiteful Lila Sleater.
And completely derailing is what very well almost happened. Immediately following the triple threat match at New Nebula, Sleater thought it wise to send a camera crew from WFWF.com into Crowe’s locker room to ask him questions about the loss with predictable results. Now Crowe faces a five thousand dollar fine which will be coming out of my pocket and he’s under an administrative watch with one strike against him. Further violence against non-in ring WFWF contracted employees will result in a thirty-day suspension is what I have been told.
If this doesn’t scream “crumbling of the foundation of a solid alliance” then I’m not really sure what does. Superbrawl is only a few months away and Lucas has the chance to do something I never really had the chance to do. I just hope that I can reign him in before he does something really stupid.
Lucas Crowe Chapter 27: Head Into The Guillotine
Justin and I agreed that the best thing to do for the next couple of days is to completely separate myself from all things wrestling to let the post-New Nebula incident cool off a bit. So I took the opportunity to drive from Pensacola all the way up to Detroit where I planned on putting some training in at the gym I used to frequent. The driving part of it was to give me time to completely clear my head so I was in the proper frame of mind to learn some new stuff. Also on the agenda, or should I say primarily, was meeting up with Amy Sanders.
It’s been harder and harder to keep the interactions with Amy hidden from Justin Tyme. He had expressly forbidden me from interacting with anyone from my former life, citing them as toxic distractions. So even though it’s almost like the father refusing to give his blessing to marry his daughter olde tyme style it still feels like every time I call her or see her that I’m putting my head into the guillotine, just begging Justin to chop it off. I find myself questioning at times why I’m so willing to risk rocking the very, very comfortable boat I’m sitting in.
But then I actually see her and I’m reminded why I’m more than willing to take the risk. I knock on her front door and she answers looking as drop dead gorgeous as ever with a smile that always disarms me. She invites me in with a wave of her arm and I don’t even hesitate. I do stop to give her a businesslike half hug, you know to make sure she knows that these meetings are purely professional based. There’s no time for a personal relationship, not with anyone if I am to stay on top of my game. It’s something I’ve gone out of my way to establish. When Reo asks if I want to go to the clubs with him I tell him that we’re not friends, we’re associates and associates shouldn’t be going to the clubs together. It’s really just my excuse to not have to go the clubs with Reo and play his wingman/bouncer all night.
We both sit on her couch, her gazed fixed on me and me zoned out getting sucked into my own head for a few moments. She puts her hand on mine and I’m snapped back to the present moment.
I’m coming apart at the seams Amy.
She cocks her head quizzically, not fully understanding what I meant.
I had the most dominant rookie year in recent WFWF history, I won three championships inside of one year. I am regarded by many now as one of the top prospects in this industry when at the start people wouldn’t even give me the time of day. Certainly not people of Drakz or Trace Demon’s caliber. Now I found myself in a position where I’m near the top of the summit, I’m in a position where Trace and Drakz view me as a valuable asset and yet… Yet I feel like I’m not viewed as their equal on any ground.
It’s because they don’t view you as being on equal ground. They view you as a valuable asset. An asset that is expendable. It is the exact same way that Justin Tyme has viewed you for some time now. But that’s not what you really are. The fact that they can’t see anything in you beyond dollar signs and security is going to be a mistake that is going to alter the face of this industry as a whole, not just the WFWF. You are going to change the meaning of big money main event star because there has never been anything like you.
Look at you, you stand at nearly seven feet tall and weigh in at over three hundred pounds. By all accounts you are an absolute monster. And yet there have been people of similar stature to enter the WFWF before you and there will be after you. But none of them came into this with the kind of background that you have in combat sports. None of them spent a year under the employ of one of the slimiest players in the game, learning all of the underhanded tactics available to a person without a conscience. None of them formed an unholy alliance with the most dastardly bunghole in this companies history, and because of that none of them felt the power of being completely untouchable. None of them forged a similar allegiance with the WFWF Champion, the man on the silver mountain. An allegiance that you solidified by being the primary assist in allowing him to retain that coveted championship.
There has never been a person of your stature to enter the WFWF and amass the amount of success and learning experiences inside of one year. And I don’t think there ever will be anyone like you after it’s all said and done.
She just gave me the best pep talk I’ve ever received in my life. Nothing Justin Tyme has ever said to me has ever compared to that. Because to insinuate I might be on his level if not higher now would crush his own ego. Never mind the idea that I might be well on my way to being the heir to the throne when Drakz and Trace are finished, something Justin Tyme never even sniffed in his career.
So what’s going through your head now champ?
I think that after a year plus of sitting at the right hand of the devil himself that it might be time for me to assume my rightful place as the new king of sleaze in the WFWF.
That’s not rea-
You’re absolutely right Amy, I have picked up all of the proverbial tricks of the trade from the snake. I am thinking that the old dog has no newer tricks that he can teach me.
You’re also starting to talk in cheesy quips like him which is… unsettling.
It’s time to put the plan in action where we put the snake’s head into the guillotine before mine ends up in there first.
Oh for crying out …
Sorry Amy, I guess there’s some unwanted side effects of being around the man for so long. I just hope that once the dust settles that it’s something that is easy to forget.[/b]
There’s literally no such thing as a wanted side effect of being around Justin Tyme. But the less crapty ones are going to help you survive in the shark infested waters of the WFWF.
I made the choice to completely ignore the fact that Amy just made a lame, generic quip herself. Instead we opted to pop open a strictly professional bottle of wine to enjoy while I catch up with her on non-wrestling related goings on. Strictly professional lines of questioning. All business.
Lucas Crowe Chapter 28: The Devil’s Bleeding Crown
You have not been placed in a particularly enviable position Mr. Bishop. And against my better brainwashed instincts I’m going to resist the urge to make a tired chess related joke. You are joining the very long list of superstars that took leave from the WFWF only to come back and almost immediately get thrust into my path. The problem is that the idea of it is even more sour to me now than it was a few weeks ago.
Prior to New Nebula I just viewed it as sad, pathetic so called stars trying to clutch onto their spotlight by mixing it up with the hottest prospect in the WFWF. They never seemed to offer up much in the way of any sort of meaningful opposition. But as you might have noticed, that changed at New Nebula. In case you weren’t following along though I’ll give you a quick overview. David Brennan waltzes his way back into the WFWF, wins a triple threat match to become the number 1 contender for my newly won WFWF International Championship which I believe would be the “almost immediately thrust into my path” I alluded to earlier. But the icing on the cake is that at New Nebula he actually pinned my shoulders to the mat. He’s only the third person to actually pin my shoulders. Now I have a whole different view on these guys that take a hiatus only to waltz back in and thrust themselves into my spotlight. The timing of which works out poorly for you.
The last time I lost a match I rebounded with such unrivalled rage that I threatened to paint my opponent’s body with his own blood. Now despite what you might have read on the internet, I’ve learned to keep my composure much more effectively following a loss. Justin has taught me breathing exercises and has me listening to The Way Of Zen just to keep me from flying off the tracks. But that doesn’t mean that you’re going to have any chance of escaping this match unscathed. No, see despite the fact that I have no real rhyme or reason to do any sort of meaningful harm to you, you do represent David Brennan in a sense and for that I might just pop your head off. Then there’s a possibility I rip your spine out and play jump rope with it.
Whoops, there I go losing that composure again. Joe Bishop I do extend my deepest and most sincere of apologies to you but really you barely stood a chance against me when I wasn’t a hypergiant ball of nearly uncontrollable rage. I’m going to try my best not to put an end to your triumphant return run so early on but I’ve also learned it’s best not to make any promises in this business. And I suppose that’s the best I can do for you. I might maim you, I might break some bones and I’ll most certainly choke you out but I’ll let you live to fight another day. And that’s the closest thing to a promise you’re going to get from me.
OOC: I struggled mightily with this one, just nothing was coming to my head. I had the idea of Lucas snapping and Justin Tyme starting to feel a little bit of pressure because I'm trying to keep people guessing on who's going to pull the trigger on the separation first but that's really all I had. Not my best, not the longest but I still enjoyed writing the monologue pieces the most.