Post by Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion on Aug 29, 2016 0:06:08 GMT -5
Lucas Crowe Chapter 29: Victim Of Changes
If you were to say that the past few months in the life of Lucas Crowe has been on the tumultuous side of things I would have to nominate that for understatement of the year. But the past thirty days has given me plenty of things to ponder. Chief among those, the question of just where do I factor into the WFWF scene coming off a thirty-day suspension? It’s been the one question that has been battering my brain the most as early as twenty-four hours after my suspension was made public.
On one hand, you have a scenario where you have a man who was once a bright star on the horizon in the world of professional wrestling. I was crowned rookie of the year after having one of the most dominating first years in WFWF history. And just as fast as my rise happened, I seemed content to snuff out the flame. Unravelling at the seams following two consecutive losses. Add on top of that with how fast this business moves, in just thirty days’ time already there is a handful of prospective contenders chomping at the bit to make a name for themselves at the expense of one self-destructing superstar that just couldn’t quite handle the pressure. Even though he’s still the WFWF International Champion for now, Lucas Crowe becomes a victim of changes.
But then you have the other scenario. The scenario that anyone that has known Lucas Crowe for any length of time would know is the much more likely of the scenarios. The scenario in which a thirty-day suspension did nothing to sooth the rage of the beast but took more than enough steps towards lighting a fire deep in the pit of his stomach. That same fire that burned out of control at the beginning of this journey just one year ago. Complacency, more than anything or anyone else, had become my number one enemy and now I’m going to make complacency my bitch.
Don’t go to bed thinking that Lucas Crowe has been sitting at home playing video games or watching television for these last thirty days. I’ve been training harder than I have in my entire life. Harder than I trained for my first match, harder than I trained for my National Championship match and harder than Justin Tyme pushed me for my match with Cameron Stone. And the best part? I haven’t even come close to reaching my limit. The Lucas Crowe that is coming back from this little sabbatical isn’t anything resembling the Lucas Crowe the WFWF has grown accustomed to in the past year. I think it’s time I start making some more people a victim of my changes.
The Wreckers Part 14: F*cking With Fire
It’s back to the good ol’ training center down in Pensacola where I have practically been living for the past thirty days. It’s nice to have the weight of the suspension finally lifted from my shoulders. I’d be lying if I said I’ve been paying attention to the goings on in the world of the WFWF over the course of the month I’ve been gone. Reo and Steelheart have been working me harder than I’ve ever worked. After the loss at Exodus something finally clicked for me. I’ve gotten as far as I can get in the WFWF with just being the monster with basic combat sports experience that can just smash his way through weaker opponents. Once I won the National title I should’ve seen it then, as soon as you win your first championship the caliber of competition goes up. But when I won the National Title I didn’t feel like that was the case. I was completely untouchable and on top of the world.
But then I won the International Championship and the difficulty spike happened. Now realistically speaking I was on the cusp of being in the World Championship picture and suddenly the talent pool became stiffer like the drinks David Brennan imbibes on the regular. Suddenly just being the big man on campus wasn’t going to cut it anymore. I’d have to believe that’s where a lot of the frustration that boiled over stemmed from. That I went from being regarded as untouchable and unbeatable to looking very human. But that’s not the case, I am not human. Regular humans are not designed the way I am. I am something much more.
I’ve been sparring extensively with Steelheart, a former Olympic caliber wrestler, who has been working hard to sharpen my wrestling skills which were almost non-existent. He’s used his connections to bring in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu coaches, Judo coaches, Kickboxing coaches. Because, as he says, the only thing scarier than a seven-foot giant that can smash your face with his fist is a giant that knows the best way to break every other bone in your body.
TIME!
Reo isn’t necessarily the most well versed in any discipline of combat but he’s got the loudest mouth so he’s been tasked with timing each round with the very specific direction to yell ‘time’ as loud as he can to save the other guys’ life. I let the other guy up from the armbar I almost had cinched in. We meet in the center of the ring, touch gloves and head back to our corner.
How are you feeling champ?
I feel like I could have got that arm if I pushed for it a little harder at the end there.
Could have. However always remember the downside of forcing the issue. You try armbar, you maybe forget about other body part. Next thing you know, he has you in kneebar. Don’t force issue or next time you’re out of action it may be for longer than thirty days and may be for surgery.
I give Steelheart a knowing nod. For as much friction as there was between the two of us when Justin brought him into the camp we’ve definitely bonded more in the past month than we had since I met him. I attribute it to him recognizing how hungry I was to prove myself as the baddest motherf*cker in the WFWF locker room. Steelheart pats me on the back and tells me to take five so I peel off the gloves and grab a water bottle. Reo gives me a fist bump as he takes the break as an opportunity to head into his office at the training center to make a phone call.
As I’m sitting in the ring catching my breath, the door swings open with authority. Justin Tyme comes power walking in, I haven’t really seen Justin since the day after Exodus when the suspension notice was posted on WFWF.com. He walks past Steelheart, giving him a quick handshake before continuing his beeline to the ring. He hops up onto the apron and enters between the ropes, sitting tailor-fashioned in front of me. He says nothing for a few moments, he just stares at me with an almost expressionless look on his face. Finally he cracks a smile.
How’s training going champ?
It’s going well enough.
Oh I’m sorry, am I paying for “well enough” now?
I haven’t seen Justin in almost a month and he starts the conversation like this?
Well…
Don’t answer that. I am not paying for well enough Lucas. I am paying for greatness. I am paying for the best that money can buy. Does your level of pay not reflect that?
You need to calm down.
You need to shut the f*ck up for one god damn second and listen to what I have to say.
I pull myself to my feet using the top rope. Justin springs to his feet as well, standing chest to chest not backing down. I haven’t seen him this fired up in I don’t know how long.
Where the hell is all of this coming from? Is this because of the elbow at Exodus
No it’s coming from a place of irrelevance which is exactly where you’re heading. I know all too well what it's like to be cast aside and treated like a leper in this industry. And I've been doing this for a lot longer than I care to remember. You've been doing this for a little over a year, are they going to even remember you once Brennan ends your International Championship reign?
F*ck you Justin.
That’s kinda what it feels like you’ve been doing the past three months Lucas. You’ve been f*cking me. You won the International Championship and then what? Throw in the towel because that’s the peak of your career? The Lucas Crowe I hired had a little more desire than that.
You think I’ve been down here all day and all night since the day after Exodus training my ass off for craps and giggles?
You demonstrate this effort now for this big, triumphant return in a throwaway Tag Team match but what about the show after that? Are we going to return to the same old crap that you’ve been churning out since after Black Hole Sun? Y’know I thought the goal was to deliver every single championship in the WFWF not just two. I won the International Championship once too y’know, trust me it’s not big enough of a deal for you to piss away everything that we’ve strived for.
I figure it’s probably best to just bite my tongue less I make Justin bite his.
Now you say you’ve been down here every single day since Exodus? I want to see what you’ve got and maybe I’ll consider keeping you on the payroll. Go on and get the dummy in the ring with you.
Justin points to Reo. Reo looks at Justin completely dumbfounded, pointing at himself as if to say “who, me?”
Yes you, you’re the only one standing there for crying out f*ck. Grab some headgear and get in the ring with the champ. C’mon we don’t have all day.
Justin, I’m really not sure what this is going to accomplish.
Sure you do, either you drop him or I drop you. It’s not that hard to understand.
You’ll drop me? I’d like to see you do something that stupid. You like the spotlight too much to be without me. You like feeling relevant.
Oh please, people like you are a dime a dozen Lucas. You’d think you would have figured this out by now. Why do you think Trace Demon chose David Brennan as his replacement in the Tag Team Championship match instead of you, his supposed associate?
I hear the words David Brennan and it sends me into a tizzy every single time. This time is no different. Justin sure does enjoy pushing my buttons sometimes when it benefits him the most. Sometimes I'm too stupid to see the game. This is probably one of those times.
Trace chose Brennan as his replacement in the Tag Team Title match?
I got the word from the horses ass itself. They told me about it while I was covering for you in one of those piddly WFWF.com interview so I called Trace himself and he basically told me screw you big guy, you’re too much of a liability at this point.
Bullcrap, Trace screens your phone calls.
Trace screens everyone’s phone calls. It’s what important people do. But when it comes to the business of Lucas Crowe he felt compelled to answer. Well maybe he didn't say that exactly but the point is, Brennan is taking opportunities that should have been yours because you’ve been acting like an unhinged lunatic. Brennan must be thinking at this point that it’s only a matter of time before he takes that International Championship off your shoulder too. So for your sake I hope you’ve been here working as hard as you say you’ve been.
Motherf*cker!
In a fit of blind rage, I spin around and connect with a punch directly to the chin of Reo, turning the lights out. He crumples into a heap unconscious on the mat. I stare down at Reo and feel a distinct absence of compassion. I just dimmed the lights on one of the only true friends I have right now. I turn to look at Justin who is now wearing a big smile. As I posture up to him the smile fades but he still wears a smug expression.
Ah! There it is. I dare say this is the Lucas I remember. The Lucas the I plucked from obscurity from the downtrodden cesspool of Detroit, Michigan and placed him front and center to be an international superstar. The Lucas Crowe that went from a penniless no body to the WFWF International Champion with a bank account capable of making any man green with envy.
Seething with rage, I place my fist on the chin of Justin who flinches ever so slightly.
You realize you’re f*cking with fire here, right?
My boy, I smell like smoke because I’ve been through fire. Don’t worry, you’ll go through it all too. Now take five, get some rest. I don’t want you squandering all this pent up rage before your match at the Horizon show. Just try to take it out on contracted in ring talent this time.
I choose to back down from this one, something I’m sure he took as a personal victory. Steelheart is already in the ring tending to Reo who is just beginning to regain consciousness. I look back and see Justin leaving the building.
I'll be in touch champ!
I direct my attention back to Reo who’s just staring at me with a faraway look in his eyes.
Told you he was a snake Lucas.
I just nod my head as I help Reo to his feet and out of the ring. We both sit on the apron, the best part about having Reo around is his ability to still talk smack after having just been knocked for a loop. He made sure to let me know that it was a lucky shot and that if he was ready it would’ve been a roll reversal. Justin may have been a snake but he somehow managed to surround me with quality people.
Lucas Crowe Chapter 30: Delusion Pandemic
“The best” is a description that is thrown around very liberally nowadays without much thought behind it. My tag team partner on Horizon considers himself to be one of the best in the game just as I’m sure The Future is more than willing to side with the people who consider him to be one of the all-time greats. And I’m sure Cam Nitta would be willing to tell people he was one of the best. You don’t get to this point in the business without believing that you’re the best. It’s a delusion pandemic sweeping its way through our locker room.
The strangest thing though is that until I entered the world of Professional Wrestling I never considered myself to be the best at anything. Perhaps it was a product of my upbringing, I had parents who were convinced I could never possibly amount to anything resembling success. Or perhaps you can call it a lack of motivation to be anything other than a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool but before I entered into the WFWF I was directionless. I was a mediocre boxer, there were plenty of people training at the same gym I was in Detroit that had a much stronger claim to being the best than I had. But then the wonderful world of pro wrestling found me and I finally found something that I could reasonably consider myself as one of the best. And for three hundred sixty-five days, every time I set foot in the ring I was one step closer to proving to more and more people that I was one of the best.
But that’s the problem, I don’t want to be one of the best. I am fighting for definitive. I definitively had the greatest rookie year of all time, no one can tell me any different. I was the definitive WFWF National Champion. During that reign I beat the longest reigning WFWF National Champion, some might claim he was the best to hold that belt. When I beat David Brennan at Superbrawl, I’ll be one step closer to etching my name as definitively the greatest WFWF International Champion of all time. By the end of year two I plan on hoisting the WFWF Heavyweight Championship and at that point and at that point only will I be satisfied and at that point there will be no doubting it, I will be definitively regarded as the best in the WFWF.
This tag team match at Horizon is a strange one because we’re four strong individuals, I would dare to say we all work better on our own than we do as a team. The road to Superbrawl is often a strange one though which is why you get scenarios like this one. Four individuals all looking to gain some momentum down the home stretch. So many variables, what happens if I break The Future’s leg? What happens if I tear off Cam Nitta’s arm? What happens if Dex decides to bake in the spotlight a little too long and ends up with a dislocated shoulder courtesy of his tag team partner? I mean I’m fairly certain I warned the brass before about the road ahead getting a little corpse-y.
In all honesty, it is hard for me to speak ill of an icon of the WFWF like The Future. Futch has come strolling back into the scene and has been welcomed back with open arms and for good reason, he’s proven that he’s still got it. He has been able to hang with the best of what the current era of the WFWF has to offer. And now he’s poised to make a triumphant appearance at Superbrawl to much fanfare I’m sure. It would just be a real shame if something terrible were to happen on the road to Superbrawl that would prevent this little fairy tale story from having a typical happy ending.
Cam Nitta, on the other hand, is an individual I now have a bone to pick. Before we met at New Nebula, I would’ve put you in the same boat as The Future. An inconsequential relic of an era of the WFWF that predates the arrival of Lucas Crowe, pre-year one if you will. I had planned on placing the blame of my recent downturn on your shoulders just as much as I have placed said blame on David Brennan however the past thirty days has taught me that pointing fingers accomplishes nothing because every time you point a finger there’s three pointing back at you. Instead I decided that pointing a fist directly at your face the next time I saw you is a much more therapeutic option.
As for my tag team partner, Dex? Well he has made it very clear that he doesn’t think he wants or needs my help in this match and usually when someone decides to make such brazenly stupid declarations I’m inclined to let them have their desires played out. But y’know I’m just so ready to show the world this new side of Lucas Crowe that I just don’t think Dex is going to get his wish on this one. You see, I’m kind of coming off a spell of the loseies that I’m really hankering for a strong rebound from. So with all due respect to the perennial mountain climber, I would like to politely ask that you stay out of my way. Just do your darndest to not tag yourself in or you might just be eating all your meals between now and Superbrawl through a straw.
Would it be nice if I could play role reversal with David Brennan and compete in a Tag Team match with actual tangible stakes? Absolutely. But at the same time I accept that I may not be regarded as the most upstanding of citizens in the locker room at the present moment and they aren’t very well going to award me another championship match coming off what I’ve just come off of. Instead, I am going to take this opportunity to present the match I’m in as a sort of parallel to that of my Superbrawl opponent. Where I will be saddled with a mule and still pull out a victory, David Brennan will be teaming with a man that some foolishly consider to be among the greatest WFWF superstars in recent memory, a man who is barely a grand slam champion, in what will surely be a losing effort. And then all the talk of momentum and just who is the best can be tossed out the window in favour of the only talking that really counts, the talking that my fists can do.