Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2012 4:27:23 GMT -5
{A screen pops up on a TV with a scene paused. It’s a scene from last Loaded, when Shawn Malakai made an unsuspecting appearance. Displeased by seeing Mak Cross, Ace Bennett, Ripp Jackson and Thunder brawling, he took it upon himself by setting the four straight with a verbal bashing. The scene begins to play again.}
Shawn Malakai: Mak Cross, you are envy. You are jealous, whether you want to admit it or not. Ever since you lost your undefeated streak to Ripp Jackson, you’ve been plotting, hoping and praying for a second chance at him. You wanted to take from him what he took from you and you figured you could do that by softening him up here tonight. Well guess what? Raider just did that about five minutes ago, so man up and fight Jackson at Survival of the Fittest. Have some dignity brother.
{The screen stops.}
As much as I don’t want to kick myself while I’m down, he’s right. I was jealous. He gets a win on me, and he gets my push? Never mind I was not at all one hundred-percent mentally either, never mind my family conflicts at the same time, I let down my guard at the exact same time he decided to take a risk. If you look at the right moment, you can see the camera got a shot of me as I was pondering his statement.
It’s pretty funny, Malakai seemingly jumps the ship, no one sees or hears from him for months, and next thing any of us know, here he is, perturbed at a scuffle. Apparently a damn mind reader, too. I’ll admit, every time I’m told who I’m facing and it’s not Ripp, a little of me died. Chalk it up to being bitter, whatever, but who makes a guy wait that long? Then, it hit me: They’re waiting for some high stakes and sure enough, before you can say “No day but today”, there they are. This rematch between us, has the winner advancing to the Elimination Chamber at Survival of the Fittest. High stakes indeed.
Of course…that’ll happen when it happens. My current situation now, is arguably a bigger deal than the chance at the Chamber. Because you see, if you win the Elimination Chamber, you get an automatic WFWF Heavyweight Championship match against the champion whoever that so may be.
But what happens when you have the chance at beating the current champion before his championship match at the very same event?
{That question’s been on the mind of Mak’s since the moment he heard he not only was in the main event of the upcoming Loaded, but it would be against Philip Schneider, current WFWF Heavyweight Champion. Mak always tends to space out whenever he thinks about his matches…but sometimes, he does so at the wrong moments.}
Travis: Mak? {Waves hand in front of Mak’s face.} Mak….earth to Mak!
Mak:[/color] Huh? What’s wrong?
Travis: You spaced out there for a sec, bud.
Mak:[/color] Really? Didn’t notice.
Travis: Tell me why exactly do I have you driving then?
Mak:[/color] Because you aren’t allowed to drive my car. Ever.
Travis: You’re still holding that ONE crash over my head?
Mak:[/color] Your license was revoked for almost a full year. Not to mention this is a NEW car, because remember, YOU TOTALED THE OTHER ONE?!
Travis: You were just the one in a completely different world, o obedient one.
Mak:[/color] One more thing, and I’m driving towards the quickest bridge with a body of water over it and driving off it, with you inside.
Travis: Oh, and like you’ll be perfectly fine.
Mak:[/color] I’m the one of us that can swim.
Travis: Let’s just hope there aren’t any goldfish in the water.
Mak:[/color] Let’s not talk about that.
Travis: Seriously though, how does one do what you did?
Mak:[/color] I SAID let’s not talk about it…besides, they never proved it was me. NO ONE proved it was me.
Travis: It was you.
If you decide you want to become a professional wrestler, your number one dream is to be a world champion. Sure, there is the whole specification crap about WHICH company you want to be champion for and in WHAT fashion and WHO you want to beat and HOW you want to beat them. But call me crazy, I never was that detailed. My dream was straightforward. Be a world champion.
This is the closest I’ve been in years.[/color]
{As Mak and Travis drive to their destination, April and Travis’ not-girlfriend-but-actually-is-but-neither-will-admit-it-girlfriend Katy decide to have a girls’ day out. Now, they’re at lunch and enjoying a nice day, when a particular subject matter comes up.}
Katy: So, have you two…thought about having kids yet?
{April nearly chokes as she drinks.}
April: Well, what brought that up?
Katy: Mild curiosity, I guess. I mean, I’m not crossing any invisible boundaries here, am I?
April: No, no, not at all. We just…I guess what I’m trying to say is that the thought rarely pops up.
Katy: As I personally see it, you two have stable jobs, are fairly frugal, sane…ish.
April: Ish?
Katy: I’ve heard about the Apple Jacks fiasco.
April: That’s completely blown out of proportion. Temporary insanity is all that was.
Katy {with a slightly concerned look to begin with}: Anyway…if nothing else, you two have been happily married for years now. Plus, you two fu*k like mad anyway…
{April chokes again.}
…you clearly haven’t lost a step in terms of sexual activity.
April: As…convincing as your argument was, you forget the main thing we haven’t really discussed kids. Mak’s still wrestling.
Katy: I may not be all that into wrestling and all, but I’m pretty sure families can exist in the world of it.
April: Well yeah, they do, but he never liked the idea of it. And it’s not like we’ve never seriously discussed it, but it always ends up the same: not now.
Katy: Well you know how I feel, you two would make awesome parents.
April: If you’re so eager for us, why don’t you and Travis get a head start?
Katy: One, God no, I’d be a terrible mother and two, Travis and I aren’t together-
April: Lies.
Katy: Doesn’t that get tiring to say?
April: Not at all.
Mak {While trying to catch his breath}:[/color] Whew…beat you…again.
Travis: Anyone can beat someone in a race if they cut them off before the finish!
Mak:[/color] You still let someone who smokes every now and again win in a race.
Travis: You beating me by nearly making me bust my ass does not make it more impressive because you have a pack a year. If that.
Mak:[/color] That’s because my addiction is competition, I get my high from the thrill of the fight.
Travis: Pretentious bunghole. {The two share a laugh.}
Speaking of pretentious bungholes, Philip Schneider’s your opponent for Loaded.
Mak:[/color] Yes, like you, and about thirty others have reminded me. I don’t think I’ll forget this time.
You generally don’t forget those with championships.[/color]
Travis: I haven’t seen nor heard you mention the man’s name out loud once.
Mak:[/color] That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about him or the match.
Trust me, I haven’t.[/color]
Travis: Fair enough, but you’ve always had something to say about everyone, even if you were praising them. Now, not a peep. Has Mr. Not-So-Secret Sh*ttalker finally been quieted before he’s reached the ring?
Mak:[/color] Not in the slightest.
Travis: So what’s keeping you?
Hell if I know.[/color]
It’s not like I don’t have things to say. When you hear the name Philip Schneider, you expect something WILL happen, or something already HAS. We know who he is, what he’s about and yet at the same time, he’s the most mysterious son of a bitch in the room.
We know of the accomplishments he’s achieved in WFWF. We know of the Hall of Fame career.
We know of the streak with the only blemish being a ladder match loss to Hutton Brown.
We know of the never-ending feud with Michael Kyzer. Now we add Hutton and Raider to the mix, and we have a foursome porn companies would die for just based off of name value alone.
Yes, I did just mention those four names and pornography in the same sentence. Do I have your attention now? Good, because I actually do have some things I need to get off of my chest.
We know of all of these things. Why? Because they’ve been effectively shoved down our throats so many times we could literally regurgitate everything that’s been shoved, and replicate it to the letter. But just whose fault is that? Is it the fault of guys like Schneider? Is it the fault of the fans? Is it the fault of management?
Not really. It’s the other guys in the back. Those guys that look backstage at the monitors and mark out seeing the main event guys do their thing. Those guys that don’t want to do anything TOO risky, because we don’t want to get on the bad side of said “superstars” and next thing we know, our career’s are dead before they really even begin.
Guys like…me.
I sold my soul to the devil
and all I got was my skull nearly cracked open.
So I try to pick myself back up
And then someone else comes to fu*k up my progress
That’s me in a nutshell. At this point, my soul’s on layaway, and I’m just about running low on making substantial payments. It’s a reverse Midas touch, everything I touch simply deteriorates.
Start to improve yourself? Get the fans on your side? Company closes.
Transfer to the company’s successor, beat the former company’s number one guy twice and become groomed to be its first made man?
That company swan dove faster than AJ King’s WFWF career.
Suddenly, that dream of yours becomes a tad more difficult to make a reality.
Then you realize just how impossible it is to be broad with wrestling dreams. No one cares if you win the big one in a high school gym in a shoddy ring. No one pays attention if you’re the top guy in a company who’ll be lucky to have a few dozen people. So you begin to specialize. You stop saying, “I want to be on a championship team.” You start saying,
“I want to win the NBA Finals.”
“I want to win the World Series.”
“I want to win the Super Bowl.”
“I want to win the Stanley Cup.”
“I want to win the WFWF Heavyweight Championship.”
That’s where I stand. That’s not where I was eight months ago. Back then, I was a guy coming back to a lost love, wondering if he still had it in him after a break. But it wasn’t a break back then. Back then, I was done. Something that I had invested so much time, so much money, so much of my blood, sweat and tears decided to slap me in the face and I completely bitched out. I was willing to be done with it. I was content where I was, shockingly enough.
But something lit that passion back up. I literally went to sleep and woke up wanting to be a professional wrestler again. Call it never really being away, call it an impulse.
I’ve been calling it fate.
You know how two guys can be in the same company, live in the same city and never come in contact with each other? That’s Schneider and I in a nutshell. Two guys, in the same profession, in the same company in that profession, are living in the same city as the other, and we’re in completely different spectrums of the universe.
And now suddenly, we’re expected to face each other in that ring and beat the living hell out of each other.
You don’t call that fate?
You’ve been on the top for so long Schneider, it’s a wonder you haven’t gotten vertigo…at least, that’s probably what you would have us to believe.
Is it nice having to deal with someone new for a change?
Or are you still on your hissy fit that you don’t get automatic title shots at any title you want?
You must not be that big on privacy, because there are so many people in the back just thinking you’re something of a crybaby.
So what you haven’t faced Cam Nitta? Hell, I held the door open for him, I showed him to Xavier Pierce, I’m the one that put the inkling of reputation I’ve gained here on the line for that kid, and look at him, not even ten matches under his belt here and he’s already a champion.
So what makes him more important than me?
A championship belt? An “accolade” that will give you nothing but immortality right? On the Internet, maybe.
Is that title more important than your squeeze? Your kid?
Why would a World Champion need to stoop so low on the card, for a title that’s ultimately meaningless?
You already have the top title.
You’re already in the Hall of Fame.
You’ve become so focused, you’ve let yourself become delusional. You can either trump Kyzer, Brown and Raider, or focus on the Grand Slam. You can’t think of having both anymore.
But, we’re alike in that respect Schneider. We do what we want in this business. You feel your status entitles you to go where you please. And if you want to be the one who keeps away the promo time of the others, just so you can measure your d*ck that much longer, you feel you can go right ahead. While I think this entire company needs a DRASTIC overhaul in who’s featured, who gets the chances, and just how long the old guard needs to stay. Why do you think we’re facing each other? Why would of all the people planning to be inserted in the Survival of the Fittest tournament, I am the one who faces who may very well be the champion at the end of it all?
Because I’m the one crazy enough to go inside the belly of the beast and implode it from within.
This implosion doesn’t start at Survival of the Fittest. This implosion doesn’t start at the PPV after that either. This implosion starts at Loaded. In Malakai’s words, I need to man up and show some dignity. Who better to start than against the champ?
Deep down, I think that makes you concerned Schneider.
Mak Cross is someone who’s gone all in before, crashed and burned and still got up.
Mak Cross is someone who tests the patience of Satan himself, just because he wants what he sets his mind to.
Mak Cross is someone who is going to show you just why this is the perfect mix of the old guard vs. new guard.
Why he will at the very least, take you to the limit and even if he loses, places himself in a secure spot on your radar.
But this isn’t the story where after it’s all said and done, you remain the same.
We both will walk out of this a different man, and if I can be completely honest, I really hope you win at Survival. That way, I can go ahead and be the number one contender, and the true rematch of the century happens.
Until then, we have Loaded. People might get the urge to call me crazy, or think I must be on some kind of drug to be thinking the way I am. And while I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days, and I’m damn near about to collapse…
…I’ve never felt so ready in my life. Bring it on Obo.[/color]
Shawn Malakai: Mak Cross, you are envy. You are jealous, whether you want to admit it or not. Ever since you lost your undefeated streak to Ripp Jackson, you’ve been plotting, hoping and praying for a second chance at him. You wanted to take from him what he took from you and you figured you could do that by softening him up here tonight. Well guess what? Raider just did that about five minutes ago, so man up and fight Jackson at Survival of the Fittest. Have some dignity brother.
{The screen stops.}
As much as I don’t want to kick myself while I’m down, he’s right. I was jealous. He gets a win on me, and he gets my push? Never mind I was not at all one hundred-percent mentally either, never mind my family conflicts at the same time, I let down my guard at the exact same time he decided to take a risk. If you look at the right moment, you can see the camera got a shot of me as I was pondering his statement.
It’s pretty funny, Malakai seemingly jumps the ship, no one sees or hears from him for months, and next thing any of us know, here he is, perturbed at a scuffle. Apparently a damn mind reader, too. I’ll admit, every time I’m told who I’m facing and it’s not Ripp, a little of me died. Chalk it up to being bitter, whatever, but who makes a guy wait that long? Then, it hit me: They’re waiting for some high stakes and sure enough, before you can say “No day but today”, there they are. This rematch between us, has the winner advancing to the Elimination Chamber at Survival of the Fittest. High stakes indeed.
Of course…that’ll happen when it happens. My current situation now, is arguably a bigger deal than the chance at the Chamber. Because you see, if you win the Elimination Chamber, you get an automatic WFWF Heavyweight Championship match against the champion whoever that so may be.
But what happens when you have the chance at beating the current champion before his championship match at the very same event?
{That question’s been on the mind of Mak’s since the moment he heard he not only was in the main event of the upcoming Loaded, but it would be against Philip Schneider, current WFWF Heavyweight Champion. Mak always tends to space out whenever he thinks about his matches…but sometimes, he does so at the wrong moments.}
Travis: Mak? {Waves hand in front of Mak’s face.} Mak….earth to Mak!
Mak:[/color] Huh? What’s wrong?
Travis: You spaced out there for a sec, bud.
Mak:[/color] Really? Didn’t notice.
Travis: Tell me why exactly do I have you driving then?
Mak:[/color] Because you aren’t allowed to drive my car. Ever.
Travis: You’re still holding that ONE crash over my head?
Mak:[/color] Your license was revoked for almost a full year. Not to mention this is a NEW car, because remember, YOU TOTALED THE OTHER ONE?!
Travis: You were just the one in a completely different world, o obedient one.
Mak:[/color] One more thing, and I’m driving towards the quickest bridge with a body of water over it and driving off it, with you inside.
Travis: Oh, and like you’ll be perfectly fine.
Mak:[/color] I’m the one of us that can swim.
Travis: Let’s just hope there aren’t any goldfish in the water.
Mak:[/color] Let’s not talk about that.
Travis: Seriously though, how does one do what you did?
Mak:[/color] I SAID let’s not talk about it…besides, they never proved it was me. NO ONE proved it was me.
Travis: It was you.
If you decide you want to become a professional wrestler, your number one dream is to be a world champion. Sure, there is the whole specification crap about WHICH company you want to be champion for and in WHAT fashion and WHO you want to beat and HOW you want to beat them. But call me crazy, I never was that detailed. My dream was straightforward. Be a world champion.
This is the closest I’ve been in years.[/color]
{As Mak and Travis drive to their destination, April and Travis’ not-girlfriend-but-actually-is-but-neither-will-admit-it-girlfriend Katy decide to have a girls’ day out. Now, they’re at lunch and enjoying a nice day, when a particular subject matter comes up.}
Katy: So, have you two…thought about having kids yet?
{April nearly chokes as she drinks.}
April: Well, what brought that up?
Katy: Mild curiosity, I guess. I mean, I’m not crossing any invisible boundaries here, am I?
April: No, no, not at all. We just…I guess what I’m trying to say is that the thought rarely pops up.
Katy: As I personally see it, you two have stable jobs, are fairly frugal, sane…ish.
April: Ish?
Katy: I’ve heard about the Apple Jacks fiasco.
April: That’s completely blown out of proportion. Temporary insanity is all that was.
Katy {with a slightly concerned look to begin with}: Anyway…if nothing else, you two have been happily married for years now. Plus, you two fu*k like mad anyway…
{April chokes again.}
…you clearly haven’t lost a step in terms of sexual activity.
April: As…convincing as your argument was, you forget the main thing we haven’t really discussed kids. Mak’s still wrestling.
Katy: I may not be all that into wrestling and all, but I’m pretty sure families can exist in the world of it.
April: Well yeah, they do, but he never liked the idea of it. And it’s not like we’ve never seriously discussed it, but it always ends up the same: not now.
Katy: Well you know how I feel, you two would make awesome parents.
April: If you’re so eager for us, why don’t you and Travis get a head start?
Katy: One, God no, I’d be a terrible mother and two, Travis and I aren’t together-
April: Lies.
Katy: Doesn’t that get tiring to say?
April: Not at all.
Mak {While trying to catch his breath}:[/color] Whew…beat you…again.
Travis: Anyone can beat someone in a race if they cut them off before the finish!
Mak:[/color] You still let someone who smokes every now and again win in a race.
Travis: You beating me by nearly making me bust my ass does not make it more impressive because you have a pack a year. If that.
Mak:[/color] That’s because my addiction is competition, I get my high from the thrill of the fight.
Travis: Pretentious bunghole. {The two share a laugh.}
Speaking of pretentious bungholes, Philip Schneider’s your opponent for Loaded.
Mak:[/color] Yes, like you, and about thirty others have reminded me. I don’t think I’ll forget this time.
You generally don’t forget those with championships.[/color]
Travis: I haven’t seen nor heard you mention the man’s name out loud once.
Mak:[/color] That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about him or the match.
Trust me, I haven’t.[/color]
Travis: Fair enough, but you’ve always had something to say about everyone, even if you were praising them. Now, not a peep. Has Mr. Not-So-Secret Sh*ttalker finally been quieted before he’s reached the ring?
Mak:[/color] Not in the slightest.
Travis: So what’s keeping you?
Hell if I know.[/color]
It’s not like I don’t have things to say. When you hear the name Philip Schneider, you expect something WILL happen, or something already HAS. We know who he is, what he’s about and yet at the same time, he’s the most mysterious son of a bitch in the room.
We know of the accomplishments he’s achieved in WFWF. We know of the Hall of Fame career.
We know of the streak with the only blemish being a ladder match loss to Hutton Brown.
We know of the never-ending feud with Michael Kyzer. Now we add Hutton and Raider to the mix, and we have a foursome porn companies would die for just based off of name value alone.
Yes, I did just mention those four names and pornography in the same sentence. Do I have your attention now? Good, because I actually do have some things I need to get off of my chest.
We know of all of these things. Why? Because they’ve been effectively shoved down our throats so many times we could literally regurgitate everything that’s been shoved, and replicate it to the letter. But just whose fault is that? Is it the fault of guys like Schneider? Is it the fault of the fans? Is it the fault of management?
Not really. It’s the other guys in the back. Those guys that look backstage at the monitors and mark out seeing the main event guys do their thing. Those guys that don’t want to do anything TOO risky, because we don’t want to get on the bad side of said “superstars” and next thing we know, our career’s are dead before they really even begin.
Guys like…me.
I sold my soul to the devil
and all I got was my skull nearly cracked open.
So I try to pick myself back up
And then someone else comes to fu*k up my progress
That’s me in a nutshell. At this point, my soul’s on layaway, and I’m just about running low on making substantial payments. It’s a reverse Midas touch, everything I touch simply deteriorates.
Start to improve yourself? Get the fans on your side? Company closes.
Transfer to the company’s successor, beat the former company’s number one guy twice and become groomed to be its first made man?
That company swan dove faster than AJ King’s WFWF career.
Suddenly, that dream of yours becomes a tad more difficult to make a reality.
Then you realize just how impossible it is to be broad with wrestling dreams. No one cares if you win the big one in a high school gym in a shoddy ring. No one pays attention if you’re the top guy in a company who’ll be lucky to have a few dozen people. So you begin to specialize. You stop saying, “I want to be on a championship team.” You start saying,
“I want to win the NBA Finals.”
“I want to win the World Series.”
“I want to win the Super Bowl.”
“I want to win the Stanley Cup.”
“I want to win the WFWF Heavyweight Championship.”
That’s where I stand. That’s not where I was eight months ago. Back then, I was a guy coming back to a lost love, wondering if he still had it in him after a break. But it wasn’t a break back then. Back then, I was done. Something that I had invested so much time, so much money, so much of my blood, sweat and tears decided to slap me in the face and I completely bitched out. I was willing to be done with it. I was content where I was, shockingly enough.
But something lit that passion back up. I literally went to sleep and woke up wanting to be a professional wrestler again. Call it never really being away, call it an impulse.
I’ve been calling it fate.
You know how two guys can be in the same company, live in the same city and never come in contact with each other? That’s Schneider and I in a nutshell. Two guys, in the same profession, in the same company in that profession, are living in the same city as the other, and we’re in completely different spectrums of the universe.
And now suddenly, we’re expected to face each other in that ring and beat the living hell out of each other.
You don’t call that fate?
You’ve been on the top for so long Schneider, it’s a wonder you haven’t gotten vertigo…at least, that’s probably what you would have us to believe.
Is it nice having to deal with someone new for a change?
Or are you still on your hissy fit that you don’t get automatic title shots at any title you want?
You must not be that big on privacy, because there are so many people in the back just thinking you’re something of a crybaby.
So what you haven’t faced Cam Nitta? Hell, I held the door open for him, I showed him to Xavier Pierce, I’m the one that put the inkling of reputation I’ve gained here on the line for that kid, and look at him, not even ten matches under his belt here and he’s already a champion.
So what makes him more important than me?
A championship belt? An “accolade” that will give you nothing but immortality right? On the Internet, maybe.
Is that title more important than your squeeze? Your kid?
Why would a World Champion need to stoop so low on the card, for a title that’s ultimately meaningless?
You already have the top title.
You’re already in the Hall of Fame.
You’ve become so focused, you’ve let yourself become delusional. You can either trump Kyzer, Brown and Raider, or focus on the Grand Slam. You can’t think of having both anymore.
But, we’re alike in that respect Schneider. We do what we want in this business. You feel your status entitles you to go where you please. And if you want to be the one who keeps away the promo time of the others, just so you can measure your d*ck that much longer, you feel you can go right ahead. While I think this entire company needs a DRASTIC overhaul in who’s featured, who gets the chances, and just how long the old guard needs to stay. Why do you think we’re facing each other? Why would of all the people planning to be inserted in the Survival of the Fittest tournament, I am the one who faces who may very well be the champion at the end of it all?
Because I’m the one crazy enough to go inside the belly of the beast and implode it from within.
This implosion doesn’t start at Survival of the Fittest. This implosion doesn’t start at the PPV after that either. This implosion starts at Loaded. In Malakai’s words, I need to man up and show some dignity. Who better to start than against the champ?
Deep down, I think that makes you concerned Schneider.
Mak Cross is someone who’s gone all in before, crashed and burned and still got up.
Mak Cross is someone who tests the patience of Satan himself, just because he wants what he sets his mind to.
Mak Cross is someone who is going to show you just why this is the perfect mix of the old guard vs. new guard.
Why he will at the very least, take you to the limit and even if he loses, places himself in a secure spot on your radar.
But this isn’t the story where after it’s all said and done, you remain the same.
We both will walk out of this a different man, and if I can be completely honest, I really hope you win at Survival. That way, I can go ahead and be the number one contender, and the true rematch of the century happens.
Until then, we have Loaded. People might get the urge to call me crazy, or think I must be on some kind of drug to be thinking the way I am. And while I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days, and I’m damn near about to collapse…
…I’ve never felt so ready in my life. Bring it on Obo.[/color]
I dont know good luck 
