Post by King Richius on Sept 5, 2017 18:50:01 GMT -5
Prologue: The Blame Game
Vancouver, Canada : August 25, 2017
I look at the poor man, wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy in a museum display. I know I said some harsh things about him but damn, he did not deserve this. All he wanted was a small piece of the fame and fortune that comes from being a WFWF star.
Damn shame nobody will ever know his name or his face. He spent his time behind a dog mask and now he’s burned beyond recognition, his only claim to fame is that Schneider added him to the list of nobodies he brags about putting out of the business.
Should have joined the circus, kid.
It’s no solace to you but Phillip Schneider is not only on my radar, he has jumped past Trace Demon to become public enemy number one. Trace is limiting his violence to wrestlers who should know better and be prepared for Demon’s asshattery. Nobody is safe from Schneider, not even a harmless mascot passing out free merchandise for the kids.
I hear footsteps coming from behind me. Please don’t let it be the kids family. I don’t think I can look them in the eyes without breaking down.
Hello Frank. Surprised to see you here.
I could say the same to you, Lila.
Forget a knife, you need a chainsaw to cut the tension.
Believe it or not, I do care.
I don’t believe you.
Not enough to do anything about it.
What would you have me do? Schneider and Whitner are intent on murdering each other. I’ll let them if that saves more innocents from joining Dog in the ICU.
What about Devilkiller? You know he’s here too. Two busted legs thanks to Trace Demon. He’ll be lucky to walk without a limp. Highly doubtful he ever wrestles again.
Trace is a special case. Damn that contract of his. And you.
What the f*ck? How am I a part of this? Crazy bitch.
Me?!?!
Haven’t you noticed how he has escalated his attacks since you embarrassed him, choked him out in the middle of the ring?
And that makes the Future and Devilkiller my fault?! What, I should have kept the Dasochoku on until he took his last breath? Is that what you really wanted when you made it a street fight?
No response. She won’t admit that I was supposed to be her tool. God how I want to scream I didn’t do it for you!
If you want to point fingers, go look in a mirror. You suck at your job. It’s your inept booking and complete lack of discipline that has resulted in the WFWF becoming an asylum. All the bodies falling by the wayside are on you. Don’t try to shift the blame to me.
You think you could do better?
A trained chimpanzee could do better!
I have more, much more that I want to say but our raised voices have drawn the attention of a nurse. I see her giving us the evil eye, channeling the spirit of Nurse Cratchet which sends a chill down my spine.
This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this.
I leave the ICU as quickly as I can. One more second looking at Lila’s face and I’ll lose it, anger management and scary nurses be damned. Lila mumbles something I can’t quite make out and am not inclined to ask her to repeat.
Do something, Frank. Please.
WFWF Ashes to Ashes RP
Man Up
featuring Frank Lynn
I have lived through others for far too long… Now, my brother, I shall be... king.
Framingham, MA : September 1, 2017
Answer your damn phone Joe!
Voicemail.
Again.
Swearing doesn’t cut it anymore. I think I’ll just scream.
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!
Shouldn’t have thrown my phone. Piece of junk is lying on the floor in pieces. Now I have to get a new one.
Not even 8 AM and I already hate this day.
* * *
3 PM and still no word from Joe. Not answering his phone. Not returning my calls. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
I wish I had that reporters’ number, the one who follows Joe around like a lost puppy with cartoon cupids flying around her head. Maybe she could tell me if Joe is even alive much less interested in continuing the revolution now that he has lost his title.
I don’t have her number so I have to assume the worst. David Brennan not only beat Joe Bishop… He broke him. Not physically, which would be bad but Joe could recover from. Brennan broke Joe’s spirit.
It’s not that farfetched given the tightrope Joe was walking recently trying to balance the revolution with being champion. Daphne saw it first. It took a week of silence from Joe for her to convince me.
I felt like there should have been an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other arguing over what I should do but one of them never showed up. The other won the argument by default. Let’s hope Daphne was the angel and not the devil.
Joe turned out to be a figurehead with his too soft philosophy of lead by example. That’s probably why he shut me off. He failed to lead by example and had nothing left to fall back on. That’s Daphne’s take on the situation and Joe hasn’t give me any reason to disagree.
I have no choice. Joe’s silence means I am on my own… again. Time to man up and take charge.
I look around me, taking in the ambience of my backyard barn turned into gym. The ring, the bleachers, the smell of day old sweat, the dim lighting all add to the atmosphere. My backyard gym embodies the roots of wrestling and the aims of the revolution: one on one competition to see who is the better wrestler. It reminds me why this is all worth it.
Then I look at the faces looking back at me in anticipation. Daphne, the almost fanatical manager. Sarah, the skeptical yet supportive almost girlfriend. Scott, the marketing guru. Abraham, the mentor and voice of wisdom.
These are my generals. The fans are my army. With them at my side, I will lead the revolution to success.
Joe can sit back and watch me work.
I sit on the ring apron opposite the bleachers where the four of them are sitting.
Joe has gone off the grid.
The mere mention of Joe’s name draws many angry looks. They are all well aware of how Joe has not answered any of my calls.
That means that for the time being, his opinion is irrelevant.
Abraham senses the mood and chimes in, his words spoken in a soothing yet serious tone reminiscent of Morgan Freeman with a bit more bass.
Listen up. Joe Bishop had a huge weight on his shoulders trying to lead a revolution AND defend a World Championship. We shouldn’t be angry at him. We should pity him. It was too much weight for him to bear and he cracked. Maybe he will come around, maybe he won’t but that’s his choice, not ours. So move on from Joe.
The revolution is not one man. It is an ideal. Any man can pick up the banner and lead the charge.
The fans sensed it. They were cheering you during your match with Anna. They booed Joe when he came out to face Brennan. The fans believe in the revolution and they chose the man they want to lead it. They chose you Frank.
An unusually long speech for Abe but his glowing endorsement and reminder of why we are meeting defuses any anger towards Joe. Abe is right. This was never about being Joe’s ally. This is about fighting for a cause and I will do that with or without Joe.
Well said. We aren’t here to kick a man while he is down. If Joe comes around I’ll welcome him with open arms… as long as he accepts me as a true equal. Right now we have to get the revolution moving forward again. Step one: I have to beat Lucas Crowe. Build momentum by stringing together some victories instead of this win one, lose one pattern I’m stuck in.
Daphne’s turn as she explains how to beat Lucas Crowe in detail… perhaps a little too much detail for the rest of the group. She’s a great manager and even better friend but sometimes I wish she had an off switch.
I’ll make sure you’re ready for him. We showed the bratty princess what’s what and we’ll do it again to Lucas. This time your opponent will have the size and strength advantage so we’ll work on speed and technique. Get ready to study a lot of film on Royce Gracie. He made a career out of beating men twice his size using his superior technique. Crowe is a big beefy brawler. You’ll be a master of technique and style. Use his mass and power against him. Get him off his feet and hit him with all kinds of submission holds…
Like I said, where is the off switch? I politely cut her off before we get sidetracked.
I have no doubts you’ll have me ready for Crowe but beating him isn’t enough. That is “leading by example” which as we’ve seen doesn’t work. We need to do more. What have you got for us Scott?
Scott rubs his chin pretending to be in deep thought. I suspect he is playing up the moment and already has some ideas he wants to present, but in typical marketing fashion he can’t resist adding a little drama to the proceedings.
First, let’s get back on social media. Daphne, you’re a natural. Fire up your phone and don’t stop this time. Target everyone: Trace Demon, Phillip Schneider, Ante Whitner, Lila Sleater, the anonymous owner… rip them a new one.
Daphne smiles that evil cartoon villain smile of hers.
YES! With pleasure. So much ammo with burning mascots, baseball bat attacks, and a freakin’ flamin’ barbwire match. That’s NOT wrestling! I can’t wait to get back at it!
You said “first”. What else do you have for us Scott?
Scott takes an overly dramatic pause.
We go nuclear.
That sounds extreme. No clue what the f*ck he means though. Neither does anybody else as we all look at him with puzzled expressions.
Isn’t it obvious? I’m talking about MAINSTREAM MEDIA.
A few light bulbs go off over our collective heads.
I want to hold a rally before the next WFWF show. All we need is a few hundred rowdy fans to show up in front of some local and national news crews. Show people how the typical WFWF match is a glorified criminal assault that goes unpunished because it is “sports entertainment”. The revolution will be on all the news programs: Today, GMA, CNN, Fox. You name it, we’ll be on it. I’ll make sure of that.
Sarah, ever the skeptic, coughs loudly to get our attention.
Is that a good idea? Making the WFWF look bad in the media could backfire. Lila and the owner could see that as Frank trying to destroy the company.
Maybe but I feel it is worth the risk. Its only a matter of time before I get targeted for one of these assaults. I’d rather not wait to take action.
Its not as risky as you think. Management may not say it but they love anything that brings more eyes on the product because that translates to more money in their pockets. If all those eyes demand a more honorable form of combat sport then management will have to listen.
I don’t like it. Frank could lose his job. Nobody likes a rabble rouser. You’ll get busted faster than a striking air traffic controller.
Its nice to hear an opposing opinion but Sarah is missing the point.
You have to understand, I’m not sure I want to be in a WFWF as it exists now. It’s too out of control… like a twisted game of ten little indians. We have to change it before there’s nothing left but psychopaths and cripples.
Save some of that for the rally. The passion… the energy… those exact words. That is what we need. Trust me, this will work. Its all about applying maximum pressure until management has no choice.
There’s no stopping you so go for it. But tell me, where is all this heading? What is your end game?
She has a point. The revolution is a lot of meaningless bitching unless you have a definite goal in mind.
Good question. No, make that GREAT question. I didn’t have an answer until I ran into Lila while visiting Dog in the ICU. Lila gave me my end game.
Last time you asked me that I wasn’t sure. I am now but I think I’ll keep it to myself for a little while longer. No point in getting everyone’s hopes up until the suits actually crack. Trust me, this is going somewhere and if… no… when we pull it off, it will be a game changer.
I scan their faces and see everyone, even Sarah, nodding in agreement.
Enough talk. We have a plan. Make it happen Scott. You arrange whatever you need for this rally. I’ll be there with bells on ready to fire up the fans and put on a show for the media. Until then, Daphne and I have a lot of work to do so I can wrestle a walking talking brick building.
I hope Joe comes out of hiding because I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a show.
Framingham, MA : September 3, 2017
Welcome back, Lucas Crowe!
It really is you, isn’t it?
I mean, it’s hard to tell. You have hair! Who knew?
Nine months you’ve been gone. Besides the rather obvious change that you weren’t really bald, what else is different? You were a big man before. Now you are a huge man. Some might even call you a monster amongst men.
I can only guess at what juice you’ve been drinking the past nine months but it sure does a body good.
Did it do anything for your brain is the real question.
The Lucas Crowe of old wasn’t a shining example of pro wrestling at its best. You were a mercenary who would do anything if the price was right. You were a trained attack dog for men like Justin Tyme and Trace Demon who used and abused you. You were a beast who beat Cameron Stone in my vote for match of the year to unify the International and National titles only to lose it all to David Brennan at SuperBrawl.
And then you disappeared.
Ultimately, you were a disappointment.
You became a warning to future rookies of the year that these are the pitfalls of the hype machine. Live up to it and you are a star assured of main event matches, championship glory, and if you’re really good, a spot in the Hall of Fame. Come up short and you are quickly forgotten, your career forever described by the words what could have been.
Are you still that same Lucas Crowe, with a little more hair and muscle?
Are you still hanging out with the Russian reject and the guy who is named after a bad 80s rock band that was named after a long defunct manufacturer of fire trucks? (Didn’t know that? Read a freakin’ book!) Are you back to kissing the ass of Justin Tyme?
I haven’t forgotten how it was you that saved Drakz after he crashed and burned inside a steel cage. I haven’t forgotten how many times that pair of wannabes, the Wreckers, stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.
Do I have to say it?
If you are that Lucas Crowe then you have no place in the WFWF that I and the revolution are trying to make.
Or have you truly changed?
Are you a renewed Motor City Nightmare whose cryptic videos are more than you blowing smoke up our collective ass? Are you a lone wolf ready to be your own man both in and out of the ring?
There’s room for a new Lucas Crowe in the revolution’s WFWF. As long as that new Lucas Crowe is a man who fights by the rules.
For all his faults, David Brennan has shown that a brawler who prides himself on brute force can have good clean matches and dominate the WFWF. His biggest fault isn’t his ego. It’s that he can’t or won’t have a good clean match every time out. He keeps falling back on his old tricks.
Sadly, for better or worse he is now the man.
Hell, with his current collection of championship belts, we might as well rename the company to the DBWF. How long before some marketing genius copyrights DB f’n WF, makes a ton of t-shirts, and watches the money roll in?
But I digress. David Brennan is Danny Young’s problem at Ashes to Ashes. You are my problem.
Who are you Lucas Crowe?
It makes a huge difference to me.
If you’re an asshat with no place in a post-revolution WFWF then I not only have to beat you, I have to make sure it is as embarrassing and one-sided as possible. Call it tough love. Call it punching a bully in the face. Call it whatever you want… it will be another notch on my belt and another blow against asshats everywhere.
If you’re playing it above board, I only have to beat you. I will spare you any extra embarrassment. I will even shake your hand, be the first to say Welcome back, Lucas Crowe, and wish you luck in your future matches.
So tell me Lucas Crowe…
Who are you?
Fort Lauderdale, FL : September 8, 2017 : Ashes to Ashes
A little after 6 PM. Fort Lauderdale local news broadcast. The anchor sends the broadcast to a live remote shot. An attractive mid-twenties female in an outfit that shows just the right amount of cleavage and thigh holds a mic at the ready, station logo facing the camera, waiting patiently for her cue.
Good Evening. I’m Julia Renner, standing outside the Lockhart Stadium where in a few hours the WFWF will be putting on a professional wrestling show sure to shock many viewers. The main event is being advertised as a “no ropes flaming barbwire match” between Phillip Schneider and Ante Whinter. One is a psychopath with a long bloody history and the other has been making anti-semitic statements for months.
They are typical of the top stars of the WFWF. Controversial at best, despicable at worst.
The burning barbwire match is just one example of the depths of depravity that the WFWF has sunk to, one of many that has inspired a WFWF superstar to make a stand. His name is Frank Lynn.
The camera pans around behind Julia to show a crowd of wrestling fans gathered in front of a platform. On the platform are several amp stacks on either side of a large flat screen. The screen is showing images and video clips of recent WFWF matches showing examples of extreme violence: a man in a dog suit being set on fire; a man getting stabbed through the hand with a sword; Frank Lynn being handcuffed to a fan; a woman attacking a man with a chain mesh glove wrapped in barb wire; and many more examples of graphic violence.
Frank Lynn is a former MMA fighter who has been wrestling in the WFWF for the past sixteen months. I spoke with him earlier and he told me that he has seen too much violence and rule breaking. Inspired by former champion Joe Bishop, Frank is fighting a “revolution” to reform the WFWF into a true combat sports promotion.
Let’s take a moment to listen as he continues his speech which started over fifteen minutes ago.
In front of the screen, pacing back and forth with a microphone in one hand speaking to the crowd is Frank Lynn. He is decked out in full propaganda gear: baseball cap, t-shirt, waving a flag with the trademark image of Frank celebrating his win over Trace Demon; every item emblazoned with the words “Join the Revolution!”
Don’t get me wrong. I love professional wrestling. I love it so much I bought a piece of Legacy Professional Wrestling. I want to be a part of something great and I think that pro wrestling is great.
But the WFWF is not professional wrestling! It is a sh*t show of rule breaking and ultra-violence where the perpetrators are constantly rewarded for their bad behavior. Of all the professional combat sports - amateur wrestling, boxing, kickboxing, MMA, etc. - only the WFWF has allowed itself to sink to new lows of violence and bullsh*t tactics. Only the WFWF allows, condones, and even endorses the use of deadly weapons and matches where the object is not to defeat your opponent but to maim them! Only the WFWF watches as its stars fall one by one to the violence, the suits shrugging their shoulders and telling us “It’s okay. There are plenty of wrestlers we can sign to take their place.” What they really mean is there are plenty of willing victims ready to be led like sheep to the slaughter!
The camera pans through the crowd again, showing it to be a diverse cross section of wrestling fans of all ages. There are the twenty somethings in their black shirts with the latest trending indy anti-hero, older fans wearing brightly colored shirts of the stars of the 80s, and of course many parents with young children wearing shirts of the stars of today.
We don’t have to be sheep mindlessly following the status quo and secretly wishing that the really bad sh*t happens to somebody else. We can be wolves taking the WFWF and remaking it to suit our idea of professional wrestling!
It is the faces of the parents that gets the most camera time as they pay close attention to Frank’s every word while the violent images display behind him and then pulling their kids a little closer in protective hugs with grim looks of concern on their faces.
That’s just a sample of Frank’s speech as he addresses what I would estimate is a crowd of close to a thousand wrestling fans attending the rally. I talked to numerous fans who share his sentiments and want the WFWF to take responsibility for the actions of the WFWF superstars. Several parents went so far as to say they will not let their children watch tonight’s main event. They said they will walk out before they let their children watch such a barbaric match.
Once again the camera pans around the crowd as Frank’s speech reaches a climax. Julia’s voice can barely be heard over the crowd as they respond to Frank so she shuts up and let’s the story play out.
What do we want?
Wrestling!
When do we want it?
Now!
WHAT DO WE WANT?
WRESTLING!
WHEN DO WE WANT IT?
NOW!
*** WeeeeeeOooooooWeeeeeeOooooooWeeeeeeOoooooo ***
Everybody is silenced by the extremely loud siren. The camera pans to the back of the crowd even as everybody turns in that direction. A black car has pulled into the parking lot. A figure is standing up through the sunroof holding a megaphone, his thumb firmly pressed on the button that creates the ear piercing siren noise currently deafening all the rally goers.
If I’m correct, that is none other than Trace Demon. Frank Lynn has singled out Mr. Demon on several occasions as the number one cause of the problems in the WFWF. Get a close up Sam.
The cameraman complies, zooming in so that Trace Demon’s smiling face fills the shot. Seconds later, it is joined on a split screen by a close up shot of Frank Lynn.
I’ll give you points for style Frankie and I'm sorry I'm the one who's got to burst your bubble, but the truth is you've still not quite got your head out of Bishop's ass and that sh*t's blinding you something fierce. Stop talking and listen to your superiors, these people don't want to see wrestling. They want to be entertained. I'm entertaining. You're not.
All the “This is wrestling!” chants I’ve been hearing lately say different. Great displays of skill trump your brand of ultra-violence. The days of blood and gore will be replaced by honorable combat and pure athletic skill.
Oh come on Frank, I thought you were meant to be smarter than that. Well, obviously I didn't, but let's play pretend on that one for now shall we? You've got to put on your side show attractions to bring fans to the show. All I have to do is be in the building. It doesn't matter how many times you make it rain flyers, how many silly catchphrases you come up with, or how many tailgate parties you hold… you'll always be nothing but an afterthought compared to me. Hell, only reason I'm here right now is because I wanted to give all these people a chance to see somebody that really matters.
That is changing. The fans... these fans... are waking up to a different type of WFWF. A better brand of pure combat sports that you aren't a part of. In the future these fans will be talking about great technical matches and the wrestlers who have them, not lunatics committing crimes.
Not bloody likely. Tomorrow I am the one they will be talking about, not you and your stupid revolution. Mark my words, Frank. I am the show. Do you hear me? I AM THE MOTHER F*CKING SHOW!
The fans in attendance for Frank’s rally show their very clear anti-Trace bias, mocking him with a chant that drowns out both wrestlers.
GO TO SLEEP!
GO TO SLEEP!
GO TO SLEEP!
Trace gives Frank a mocking wave and smug smile before dropping down into the car, which quickly drives away to the indoor parking reserved for wrestlers. Frank continues pacing the stage, this time more like a caged animal itching for a fight, while the fans continue with the chanting and waving signs that Frank’s people handed out. The signs are varied in color and design but all make the same two points: We want wrestling! and Join the revolution!
It looks like the rally is wrapping up. I for one won’t be watching the flaming barbwire match tonight but I expect we will be hearing about it later. The fire department and paramedics will be on stand-by, which is the only concession to civility that the WFWF has made.
For a more in depth look at the WFWF, be sure to watch this Sunday at 7 PM for a network news special report The WFWF: New American Blood Sport?
Julia smiles for the camera for a few seconds waiting for the feed to jump back to the studio. The audio is still on and she can be heard in the background even as the anchor apologizes for the profanity that was heard in the report.
Hurry up Sam. I want out of here before these f*cking idiots start a riot.
* * *
Well that was interesting. Trace is an attention whore so it’s no surprise he showed up. Equally unsurprising that he had a megaphone. Trace has to be sure his is always the loudest voice in any room.
Still, he showed up at MY rally. He wasted his precious time on ME.
(Which is more than I can say for his lordship Joe Bishop.)
I must be getting under Trace’s skin.
Good.
I think I won that round. I certainly feel better than I did after he barged his way into the Legacy facilities and tried to embarrass me in front of the LPW wrestlers.
Judging from the ear to ear smile on Scott’s face, I know where he stands before he even says a single word.
Great job! I caught part of a local news broadcast and you were golden!
I couldn’t tell from up there on the stage. I meant every word I said but I’ve said it so often that it is starting sound like I’m reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
Don’t worry. You came off heartfelt and sincere.
But what about the crowd response? I sometimes wonder about wrestling fans. They have this need to be part of the show and don’t care how they do it. Were they sincere or is chanting “This is wrestling!” just a fad that they will move on from in a month or two?
You had those fans in the palm of your hand. They believe because you believe. They will go to war for you. Don’t lose faith now. We’re too close to the finish line.
Will they go to war? The fans turned on Joe Bishop. They could turn on me.
Damn it, Trace shows up and my resolve goes to sh*t. Remember the most important advice Josh and Joe ever gave me: Don’t let Trace Demon get in my head.
Easier said than done.
What about Trace? The assh*le tried pretty f*cking hard to derail the rally.
Are you kidding me? The stupid bastard played right into our hands. I almost cried when he mocked the wrestling side of the WFWF. It was beautiful. He proves our point every time he opens his mouth. We should invite him to all of our events.
Like the drunk uncle who ends up wearing a lamp shade while singing show tunes? I could definitely do without that. But Scott is the expert.
If you say so.
I still can’t get over how many Canadian fans cheered Trace. His charisma is undeniable. So is his skill for that matter. It’s just his attitude that sucks big hairy balls.
Time will tell whose message was heard and whose fell on deaf ears.
I can’t worry about it now because I’m hours away from a giant wrecking ball named Lucas Crowe trying to knock my head off my shoulders. I have to shift gears because he’s an obstacle that demands one hundred per cent of my attention.
Fort Lauderdale, FL : September 8, 2017 : Ashes to Ashes
Hello again Lucas.
I’m going to share a secret with you. Almost a year ago, when I was a green as grass rookie, I sent an e-mail to Lila Sleater. I was feeling my oats having feasted on a bunch of nobodies that I could name here if I was an arrogant prick like Phillip Schneider. I’m not so I won’t because they are names best forgotten.
My point is that in this e-mail I wrote the following:
Lucas Crowe vs Frank Lynn is a match that could one day main event SuperBrawl.
Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. I followed up on that incredible display of braggadocio by losing two shots at the Golden Opportunity and making a fool of myself in the Supreme Gauntlet.
At least I kept on showing up. Can’t say that about you.
Looked like the great Frank Lynn vs Lucas Crowe match I predicted would never happen. Two consecutive rookies of the year falling flat on their faces, one in front of the whole world and the other in private, apparently running off to hide in a shack somewhere to bulk up and have a good cry over how that mean David Brennan hurt you.
Oh how the tides have turned. I found my footing and am climbing up the rankings. Whitner… Demon… Quinn… Ahriman… all of them found out first hand I’m no pushover. You’re next, Lucas Crowe!
Nine months after disappearing, you’re back even bigger and badder than before.
Nice job producing those creepy videos. They might scare a lesser man but not me. I’m onto you. You might as well be that SNL wannabe Danny Young wiping out a monastery full of kung fu monks with a smirk on your face and a cheeky “Gotcha!” as you exit stage left.
You’re overcompensating for something. Whatever it was that drove you into hiding is still there in the back of your tiny little brain making you nervous about your comeback.
Is it the voice of David Brennan telling you what a piece of sh*t you are?
Is it the voice of Justin Tyme thanking you for dumping him before he could dump you because you weren’t good enough?
Is it the voices of the Wreckers calling you a failure and laughing at how stupid they were for following your lead?
Or is it the voice of Frank Lynn telling you a truth you don’t want to hear?
You have nine months of ring rust to work off.
I’m not the man you should be wrestling as you try to get your form back. I’m on fire right now. I’m riding a wave of success. Real success. Not that pie in the sky fake success I had going for me last year.
In case you haven’t been paying attention, let me catch you up on current events.
David Brennan has been on a tear and is now the owner of every belt in the goddamn universe. He can’t possibly hold onto all those belts. Either he will tire himself out trying to take on all comers OR Lila will strip him of a belt or two. One way or another, Davey boy’s grip on the gold will loosen. The opportunity is there for someone to step up and make their claim.
While Brennan was playing King Midas, I was working my way up the ladder to contender status. I got a little payback against Ante Whitner at Ultimate Supremacy. I choked out Trace Demon to add to my résumé. I gave notice to Joe Bishop that I was a lot closer to being one of the elite than he or anybody else thought. Last show, Anna Ahriman tried to use me as a stepping stone but I shut that sh*t down.
I am making a strong case for myself the old fashioned way. I’m earning it.
You already have a strong case. You were the National Champion and unified it with the International Championship. Even after your loss to Brennan you were still a contender. I’m sure there was a spot in the Supreme Gauntlet for you if you had wanted it.
By the way, thanks for saying no and leaving us with a Hugh Jass and the flippy floppy shooting star guy. They really added to the prestige of the tournament.
Regardless, any seven foot tall damn near four hundred pound monster who is a past champion has to be considered a contender no matter how long a break from wrestling he has taken.
So here I go again.
I’m in a match where I have to win to keep myself at the top of the potential contenders list that I’m sure Lila keeps locked in her desk drawer next to a half empty bottle of scotch because there is no way that bottle is full after dealing with all of the lunatics in the WFWF.
Be warned Luke. I’m not the rookie you may remember. I am a veteran now, hungry to start filling up my résumé with some meaningful accomplishments. I am the Rookie of the Year who IS living up to the hype. I’m the Lethal Weapon Frank Lynn!
The WFWF writers said it best: I am the real deal!
You may think you’re the one coming after me so you can send a message that the Motor City Nightmare is back with bad intentions.
You’re wrong.
I’m coming for you!
Size doesn’t matter. The bigger they are the harder they fall.
I’m sure you’ve heard both before.
Its a very apt description of our match because I know every throw and hold that will use your own size against you. What you think is your greatest advantage is actually a disadvantage when facing an experienced MMA fighter. I will take you down, twist you up like a pretzel, and make you cry like the world’s largest baby.
Don’t take it personal. It’s what I do.
It’s too bad the suits didn’t hype this match more. It may not be the main event of SuperBrawl but it is the first ever meeting between the last two WFWF Rookies of the Year. They really should have played that up. Unlike Anna Ahriman, who for all her bluster turned out to be nothing more than a rookie in need of more training and experience, you really are a rising star. Our match is two of the best and brightest rising stars fighting for dominance. My star just happens to be shining a little brighter than yours.
I’m going to beat you and get one step closer to a championship match. How badly I beat you is entirely dependent on whether you want to play by the rules or not. I may be focused on earning a title shot but that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about the revolution. Do something unworthy of a pure wrestling match and I will make you pay.
I hope you man up, fight a fair fight, and stick around after I beat you. The WFWF needs all the warm bodies it can get.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll get bored at some point down the road and take a break, opening the door for you.
That’s the only way you or anybody else is getting a shot because as long as I’m around, the door of opportunity is closed to all but me. Ask Anna Ahriman. Slammed that f*cking door right in her face.
Welcome back, Luke.
I’m waiting to slam the door in your face.
Vancouver, Canada : August 25, 2017
I look at the poor man, wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy in a museum display. I know I said some harsh things about him but damn, he did not deserve this. All he wanted was a small piece of the fame and fortune that comes from being a WFWF star.
Damn shame nobody will ever know his name or his face. He spent his time behind a dog mask and now he’s burned beyond recognition, his only claim to fame is that Schneider added him to the list of nobodies he brags about putting out of the business.
Should have joined the circus, kid.
It’s no solace to you but Phillip Schneider is not only on my radar, he has jumped past Trace Demon to become public enemy number one. Trace is limiting his violence to wrestlers who should know better and be prepared for Demon’s asshattery. Nobody is safe from Schneider, not even a harmless mascot passing out free merchandise for the kids.
I hear footsteps coming from behind me. Please don’t let it be the kids family. I don’t think I can look them in the eyes without breaking down.
Hello Frank. Surprised to see you here.
I could say the same to you, Lila.
Forget a knife, you need a chainsaw to cut the tension.
Believe it or not, I do care.
I don’t believe you.
Not enough to do anything about it.
What would you have me do? Schneider and Whitner are intent on murdering each other. I’ll let them if that saves more innocents from joining Dog in the ICU.
What about Devilkiller? You know he’s here too. Two busted legs thanks to Trace Demon. He’ll be lucky to walk without a limp. Highly doubtful he ever wrestles again.
Trace is a special case. Damn that contract of his. And you.
What the f*ck? How am I a part of this? Crazy bitch.
Me?!?!
Haven’t you noticed how he has escalated his attacks since you embarrassed him, choked him out in the middle of the ring?
And that makes the Future and Devilkiller my fault?! What, I should have kept the Dasochoku on until he took his last breath? Is that what you really wanted when you made it a street fight?
No response. She won’t admit that I was supposed to be her tool. God how I want to scream I didn’t do it for you!
If you want to point fingers, go look in a mirror. You suck at your job. It’s your inept booking and complete lack of discipline that has resulted in the WFWF becoming an asylum. All the bodies falling by the wayside are on you. Don’t try to shift the blame to me.
You think you could do better?
A trained chimpanzee could do better!
I have more, much more that I want to say but our raised voices have drawn the attention of a nurse. I see her giving us the evil eye, channeling the spirit of Nurse Cratchet which sends a chill down my spine.
This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this.
I leave the ICU as quickly as I can. One more second looking at Lila’s face and I’ll lose it, anger management and scary nurses be damned. Lila mumbles something I can’t quite make out and am not inclined to ask her to repeat.
Do something, Frank. Please.
WFWF Ashes to Ashes RP
Man Up
featuring Frank Lynn
I have lived through others for far too long… Now, my brother, I shall be... king.
Framingham, MA : September 1, 2017
Answer your damn phone Joe!
Voicemail.
Again.
Swearing doesn’t cut it anymore. I think I’ll just scream.
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!
Shouldn’t have thrown my phone. Piece of junk is lying on the floor in pieces. Now I have to get a new one.
Not even 8 AM and I already hate this day.
* * *
3 PM and still no word from Joe. Not answering his phone. Not returning my calls. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
I wish I had that reporters’ number, the one who follows Joe around like a lost puppy with cartoon cupids flying around her head. Maybe she could tell me if Joe is even alive much less interested in continuing the revolution now that he has lost his title.
I don’t have her number so I have to assume the worst. David Brennan not only beat Joe Bishop… He broke him. Not physically, which would be bad but Joe could recover from. Brennan broke Joe’s spirit.
It’s not that farfetched given the tightrope Joe was walking recently trying to balance the revolution with being champion. Daphne saw it first. It took a week of silence from Joe for her to convince me.
I felt like there should have been an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other arguing over what I should do but one of them never showed up. The other won the argument by default. Let’s hope Daphne was the angel and not the devil.
Joe turned out to be a figurehead with his too soft philosophy of lead by example. That’s probably why he shut me off. He failed to lead by example and had nothing left to fall back on. That’s Daphne’s take on the situation and Joe hasn’t give me any reason to disagree.
I have no choice. Joe’s silence means I am on my own… again. Time to man up and take charge.
I look around me, taking in the ambience of my backyard barn turned into gym. The ring, the bleachers, the smell of day old sweat, the dim lighting all add to the atmosphere. My backyard gym embodies the roots of wrestling and the aims of the revolution: one on one competition to see who is the better wrestler. It reminds me why this is all worth it.
Then I look at the faces looking back at me in anticipation. Daphne, the almost fanatical manager. Sarah, the skeptical yet supportive almost girlfriend. Scott, the marketing guru. Abraham, the mentor and voice of wisdom.
These are my generals. The fans are my army. With them at my side, I will lead the revolution to success.
Joe can sit back and watch me work.
I sit on the ring apron opposite the bleachers where the four of them are sitting.
Joe has gone off the grid.
The mere mention of Joe’s name draws many angry looks. They are all well aware of how Joe has not answered any of my calls.
That means that for the time being, his opinion is irrelevant.
Abraham senses the mood and chimes in, his words spoken in a soothing yet serious tone reminiscent of Morgan Freeman with a bit more bass.
Listen up. Joe Bishop had a huge weight on his shoulders trying to lead a revolution AND defend a World Championship. We shouldn’t be angry at him. We should pity him. It was too much weight for him to bear and he cracked. Maybe he will come around, maybe he won’t but that’s his choice, not ours. So move on from Joe.
The revolution is not one man. It is an ideal. Any man can pick up the banner and lead the charge.
The fans sensed it. They were cheering you during your match with Anna. They booed Joe when he came out to face Brennan. The fans believe in the revolution and they chose the man they want to lead it. They chose you Frank.
An unusually long speech for Abe but his glowing endorsement and reminder of why we are meeting defuses any anger towards Joe. Abe is right. This was never about being Joe’s ally. This is about fighting for a cause and I will do that with or without Joe.
Well said. We aren’t here to kick a man while he is down. If Joe comes around I’ll welcome him with open arms… as long as he accepts me as a true equal. Right now we have to get the revolution moving forward again. Step one: I have to beat Lucas Crowe. Build momentum by stringing together some victories instead of this win one, lose one pattern I’m stuck in.
Daphne’s turn as she explains how to beat Lucas Crowe in detail… perhaps a little too much detail for the rest of the group. She’s a great manager and even better friend but sometimes I wish she had an off switch.
I’ll make sure you’re ready for him. We showed the bratty princess what’s what and we’ll do it again to Lucas. This time your opponent will have the size and strength advantage so we’ll work on speed and technique. Get ready to study a lot of film on Royce Gracie. He made a career out of beating men twice his size using his superior technique. Crowe is a big beefy brawler. You’ll be a master of technique and style. Use his mass and power against him. Get him off his feet and hit him with all kinds of submission holds…
Like I said, where is the off switch? I politely cut her off before we get sidetracked.
I have no doubts you’ll have me ready for Crowe but beating him isn’t enough. That is “leading by example” which as we’ve seen doesn’t work. We need to do more. What have you got for us Scott?
Scott rubs his chin pretending to be in deep thought. I suspect he is playing up the moment and already has some ideas he wants to present, but in typical marketing fashion he can’t resist adding a little drama to the proceedings.
First, let’s get back on social media. Daphne, you’re a natural. Fire up your phone and don’t stop this time. Target everyone: Trace Demon, Phillip Schneider, Ante Whitner, Lila Sleater, the anonymous owner… rip them a new one.
Daphne smiles that evil cartoon villain smile of hers.
YES! With pleasure. So much ammo with burning mascots, baseball bat attacks, and a freakin’ flamin’ barbwire match. That’s NOT wrestling! I can’t wait to get back at it!
You said “first”. What else do you have for us Scott?
Scott takes an overly dramatic pause.
We go nuclear.
That sounds extreme. No clue what the f*ck he means though. Neither does anybody else as we all look at him with puzzled expressions.
Isn’t it obvious? I’m talking about MAINSTREAM MEDIA.
A few light bulbs go off over our collective heads.
I want to hold a rally before the next WFWF show. All we need is a few hundred rowdy fans to show up in front of some local and national news crews. Show people how the typical WFWF match is a glorified criminal assault that goes unpunished because it is “sports entertainment”. The revolution will be on all the news programs: Today, GMA, CNN, Fox. You name it, we’ll be on it. I’ll make sure of that.
Sarah, ever the skeptic, coughs loudly to get our attention.
Is that a good idea? Making the WFWF look bad in the media could backfire. Lila and the owner could see that as Frank trying to destroy the company.
Maybe but I feel it is worth the risk. Its only a matter of time before I get targeted for one of these assaults. I’d rather not wait to take action.
Its not as risky as you think. Management may not say it but they love anything that brings more eyes on the product because that translates to more money in their pockets. If all those eyes demand a more honorable form of combat sport then management will have to listen.
I don’t like it. Frank could lose his job. Nobody likes a rabble rouser. You’ll get busted faster than a striking air traffic controller.
Its nice to hear an opposing opinion but Sarah is missing the point.
You have to understand, I’m not sure I want to be in a WFWF as it exists now. It’s too out of control… like a twisted game of ten little indians. We have to change it before there’s nothing left but psychopaths and cripples.
Save some of that for the rally. The passion… the energy… those exact words. That is what we need. Trust me, this will work. Its all about applying maximum pressure until management has no choice.
There’s no stopping you so go for it. But tell me, where is all this heading? What is your end game?
She has a point. The revolution is a lot of meaningless bitching unless you have a definite goal in mind.
Good question. No, make that GREAT question. I didn’t have an answer until I ran into Lila while visiting Dog in the ICU. Lila gave me my end game.
Last time you asked me that I wasn’t sure. I am now but I think I’ll keep it to myself for a little while longer. No point in getting everyone’s hopes up until the suits actually crack. Trust me, this is going somewhere and if… no… when we pull it off, it will be a game changer.
I scan their faces and see everyone, even Sarah, nodding in agreement.
Enough talk. We have a plan. Make it happen Scott. You arrange whatever you need for this rally. I’ll be there with bells on ready to fire up the fans and put on a show for the media. Until then, Daphne and I have a lot of work to do so I can wrestle a walking talking brick building.
I hope Joe comes out of hiding because I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a show.
Framingham, MA : September 3, 2017
Welcome back, Lucas Crowe!
It really is you, isn’t it?
I mean, it’s hard to tell. You have hair! Who knew?
Nine months you’ve been gone. Besides the rather obvious change that you weren’t really bald, what else is different? You were a big man before. Now you are a huge man. Some might even call you a monster amongst men.
I can only guess at what juice you’ve been drinking the past nine months but it sure does a body good.
Did it do anything for your brain is the real question.
The Lucas Crowe of old wasn’t a shining example of pro wrestling at its best. You were a mercenary who would do anything if the price was right. You were a trained attack dog for men like Justin Tyme and Trace Demon who used and abused you. You were a beast who beat Cameron Stone in my vote for match of the year to unify the International and National titles only to lose it all to David Brennan at SuperBrawl.
And then you disappeared.
Ultimately, you were a disappointment.
You became a warning to future rookies of the year that these are the pitfalls of the hype machine. Live up to it and you are a star assured of main event matches, championship glory, and if you’re really good, a spot in the Hall of Fame. Come up short and you are quickly forgotten, your career forever described by the words what could have been.
Are you still that same Lucas Crowe, with a little more hair and muscle?
Are you still hanging out with the Russian reject and the guy who is named after a bad 80s rock band that was named after a long defunct manufacturer of fire trucks? (Didn’t know that? Read a freakin’ book!) Are you back to kissing the ass of Justin Tyme?
I haven’t forgotten how it was you that saved Drakz after he crashed and burned inside a steel cage. I haven’t forgotten how many times that pair of wannabes, the Wreckers, stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.
Do I have to say it?
If you are that Lucas Crowe then you have no place in the WFWF that I and the revolution are trying to make.
Or have you truly changed?
Are you a renewed Motor City Nightmare whose cryptic videos are more than you blowing smoke up our collective ass? Are you a lone wolf ready to be your own man both in and out of the ring?
There’s room for a new Lucas Crowe in the revolution’s WFWF. As long as that new Lucas Crowe is a man who fights by the rules.
For all his faults, David Brennan has shown that a brawler who prides himself on brute force can have good clean matches and dominate the WFWF. His biggest fault isn’t his ego. It’s that he can’t or won’t have a good clean match every time out. He keeps falling back on his old tricks.
Sadly, for better or worse he is now the man.
Hell, with his current collection of championship belts, we might as well rename the company to the DBWF. How long before some marketing genius copyrights DB f’n WF, makes a ton of t-shirts, and watches the money roll in?
But I digress. David Brennan is Danny Young’s problem at Ashes to Ashes. You are my problem.
Who are you Lucas Crowe?
It makes a huge difference to me.
If you’re an asshat with no place in a post-revolution WFWF then I not only have to beat you, I have to make sure it is as embarrassing and one-sided as possible. Call it tough love. Call it punching a bully in the face. Call it whatever you want… it will be another notch on my belt and another blow against asshats everywhere.
If you’re playing it above board, I only have to beat you. I will spare you any extra embarrassment. I will even shake your hand, be the first to say Welcome back, Lucas Crowe, and wish you luck in your future matches.
So tell me Lucas Crowe…
Who are you?
Fort Lauderdale, FL : September 8, 2017 : Ashes to Ashes
A little after 6 PM. Fort Lauderdale local news broadcast. The anchor sends the broadcast to a live remote shot. An attractive mid-twenties female in an outfit that shows just the right amount of cleavage and thigh holds a mic at the ready, station logo facing the camera, waiting patiently for her cue.
Good Evening. I’m Julia Renner, standing outside the Lockhart Stadium where in a few hours the WFWF will be putting on a professional wrestling show sure to shock many viewers. The main event is being advertised as a “no ropes flaming barbwire match” between Phillip Schneider and Ante Whinter. One is a psychopath with a long bloody history and the other has been making anti-semitic statements for months.
They are typical of the top stars of the WFWF. Controversial at best, despicable at worst.
The burning barbwire match is just one example of the depths of depravity that the WFWF has sunk to, one of many that has inspired a WFWF superstar to make a stand. His name is Frank Lynn.
The camera pans around behind Julia to show a crowd of wrestling fans gathered in front of a platform. On the platform are several amp stacks on either side of a large flat screen. The screen is showing images and video clips of recent WFWF matches showing examples of extreme violence: a man in a dog suit being set on fire; a man getting stabbed through the hand with a sword; Frank Lynn being handcuffed to a fan; a woman attacking a man with a chain mesh glove wrapped in barb wire; and many more examples of graphic violence.
Frank Lynn is a former MMA fighter who has been wrestling in the WFWF for the past sixteen months. I spoke with him earlier and he told me that he has seen too much violence and rule breaking. Inspired by former champion Joe Bishop, Frank is fighting a “revolution” to reform the WFWF into a true combat sports promotion.
Let’s take a moment to listen as he continues his speech which started over fifteen minutes ago.
In front of the screen, pacing back and forth with a microphone in one hand speaking to the crowd is Frank Lynn. He is decked out in full propaganda gear: baseball cap, t-shirt, waving a flag with the trademark image of Frank celebrating his win over Trace Demon; every item emblazoned with the words “Join the Revolution!”
Don’t get me wrong. I love professional wrestling. I love it so much I bought a piece of Legacy Professional Wrestling. I want to be a part of something great and I think that pro wrestling is great.
But the WFWF is not professional wrestling! It is a sh*t show of rule breaking and ultra-violence where the perpetrators are constantly rewarded for their bad behavior. Of all the professional combat sports - amateur wrestling, boxing, kickboxing, MMA, etc. - only the WFWF has allowed itself to sink to new lows of violence and bullsh*t tactics. Only the WFWF allows, condones, and even endorses the use of deadly weapons and matches where the object is not to defeat your opponent but to maim them! Only the WFWF watches as its stars fall one by one to the violence, the suits shrugging their shoulders and telling us “It’s okay. There are plenty of wrestlers we can sign to take their place.” What they really mean is there are plenty of willing victims ready to be led like sheep to the slaughter!
The camera pans through the crowd again, showing it to be a diverse cross section of wrestling fans of all ages. There are the twenty somethings in their black shirts with the latest trending indy anti-hero, older fans wearing brightly colored shirts of the stars of the 80s, and of course many parents with young children wearing shirts of the stars of today.
We don’t have to be sheep mindlessly following the status quo and secretly wishing that the really bad sh*t happens to somebody else. We can be wolves taking the WFWF and remaking it to suit our idea of professional wrestling!
It is the faces of the parents that gets the most camera time as they pay close attention to Frank’s every word while the violent images display behind him and then pulling their kids a little closer in protective hugs with grim looks of concern on their faces.
That’s just a sample of Frank’s speech as he addresses what I would estimate is a crowd of close to a thousand wrestling fans attending the rally. I talked to numerous fans who share his sentiments and want the WFWF to take responsibility for the actions of the WFWF superstars. Several parents went so far as to say they will not let their children watch tonight’s main event. They said they will walk out before they let their children watch such a barbaric match.
Once again the camera pans around the crowd as Frank’s speech reaches a climax. Julia’s voice can barely be heard over the crowd as they respond to Frank so she shuts up and let’s the story play out.
What do we want?
Wrestling!
When do we want it?
Now!
WHAT DO WE WANT?
WRESTLING!
WHEN DO WE WANT IT?
NOW!
*** WeeeeeeOooooooWeeeeeeOooooooWeeeeeeOoooooo ***
Everybody is silenced by the extremely loud siren. The camera pans to the back of the crowd even as everybody turns in that direction. A black car has pulled into the parking lot. A figure is standing up through the sunroof holding a megaphone, his thumb firmly pressed on the button that creates the ear piercing siren noise currently deafening all the rally goers.
If I’m correct, that is none other than Trace Demon. Frank Lynn has singled out Mr. Demon on several occasions as the number one cause of the problems in the WFWF. Get a close up Sam.
The cameraman complies, zooming in so that Trace Demon’s smiling face fills the shot. Seconds later, it is joined on a split screen by a close up shot of Frank Lynn.
I’ll give you points for style Frankie and I'm sorry I'm the one who's got to burst your bubble, but the truth is you've still not quite got your head out of Bishop's ass and that sh*t's blinding you something fierce. Stop talking and listen to your superiors, these people don't want to see wrestling. They want to be entertained. I'm entertaining. You're not.
All the “This is wrestling!” chants I’ve been hearing lately say different. Great displays of skill trump your brand of ultra-violence. The days of blood and gore will be replaced by honorable combat and pure athletic skill.
Oh come on Frank, I thought you were meant to be smarter than that. Well, obviously I didn't, but let's play pretend on that one for now shall we? You've got to put on your side show attractions to bring fans to the show. All I have to do is be in the building. It doesn't matter how many times you make it rain flyers, how many silly catchphrases you come up with, or how many tailgate parties you hold… you'll always be nothing but an afterthought compared to me. Hell, only reason I'm here right now is because I wanted to give all these people a chance to see somebody that really matters.
That is changing. The fans... these fans... are waking up to a different type of WFWF. A better brand of pure combat sports that you aren't a part of. In the future these fans will be talking about great technical matches and the wrestlers who have them, not lunatics committing crimes.
Not bloody likely. Tomorrow I am the one they will be talking about, not you and your stupid revolution. Mark my words, Frank. I am the show. Do you hear me? I AM THE MOTHER F*CKING SHOW!
The fans in attendance for Frank’s rally show their very clear anti-Trace bias, mocking him with a chant that drowns out both wrestlers.
GO TO SLEEP!
GO TO SLEEP!
GO TO SLEEP!
Trace gives Frank a mocking wave and smug smile before dropping down into the car, which quickly drives away to the indoor parking reserved for wrestlers. Frank continues pacing the stage, this time more like a caged animal itching for a fight, while the fans continue with the chanting and waving signs that Frank’s people handed out. The signs are varied in color and design but all make the same two points: We want wrestling! and Join the revolution!
It looks like the rally is wrapping up. I for one won’t be watching the flaming barbwire match tonight but I expect we will be hearing about it later. The fire department and paramedics will be on stand-by, which is the only concession to civility that the WFWF has made.
For a more in depth look at the WFWF, be sure to watch this Sunday at 7 PM for a network news special report The WFWF: New American Blood Sport?
Julia smiles for the camera for a few seconds waiting for the feed to jump back to the studio. The audio is still on and she can be heard in the background even as the anchor apologizes for the profanity that was heard in the report.
Hurry up Sam. I want out of here before these f*cking idiots start a riot.
* * *
Well that was interesting. Trace is an attention whore so it’s no surprise he showed up. Equally unsurprising that he had a megaphone. Trace has to be sure his is always the loudest voice in any room.
Still, he showed up at MY rally. He wasted his precious time on ME.
(Which is more than I can say for his lordship Joe Bishop.)
I must be getting under Trace’s skin.
Good.
I think I won that round. I certainly feel better than I did after he barged his way into the Legacy facilities and tried to embarrass me in front of the LPW wrestlers.
Judging from the ear to ear smile on Scott’s face, I know where he stands before he even says a single word.
Great job! I caught part of a local news broadcast and you were golden!
I couldn’t tell from up there on the stage. I meant every word I said but I’ve said it so often that it is starting sound like I’m reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
Don’t worry. You came off heartfelt and sincere.
But what about the crowd response? I sometimes wonder about wrestling fans. They have this need to be part of the show and don’t care how they do it. Were they sincere or is chanting “This is wrestling!” just a fad that they will move on from in a month or two?
You had those fans in the palm of your hand. They believe because you believe. They will go to war for you. Don’t lose faith now. We’re too close to the finish line.
Will they go to war? The fans turned on Joe Bishop. They could turn on me.
Damn it, Trace shows up and my resolve goes to sh*t. Remember the most important advice Josh and Joe ever gave me: Don’t let Trace Demon get in my head.
Easier said than done.
What about Trace? The assh*le tried pretty f*cking hard to derail the rally.
Are you kidding me? The stupid bastard played right into our hands. I almost cried when he mocked the wrestling side of the WFWF. It was beautiful. He proves our point every time he opens his mouth. We should invite him to all of our events.
Like the drunk uncle who ends up wearing a lamp shade while singing show tunes? I could definitely do without that. But Scott is the expert.
If you say so.
I still can’t get over how many Canadian fans cheered Trace. His charisma is undeniable. So is his skill for that matter. It’s just his attitude that sucks big hairy balls.
Time will tell whose message was heard and whose fell on deaf ears.
I can’t worry about it now because I’m hours away from a giant wrecking ball named Lucas Crowe trying to knock my head off my shoulders. I have to shift gears because he’s an obstacle that demands one hundred per cent of my attention.
Fort Lauderdale, FL : September 8, 2017 : Ashes to Ashes
Hello again Lucas.
I’m going to share a secret with you. Almost a year ago, when I was a green as grass rookie, I sent an e-mail to Lila Sleater. I was feeling my oats having feasted on a bunch of nobodies that I could name here if I was an arrogant prick like Phillip Schneider. I’m not so I won’t because they are names best forgotten.
My point is that in this e-mail I wrote the following:
Lucas Crowe vs Frank Lynn is a match that could one day main event SuperBrawl.
Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. I followed up on that incredible display of braggadocio by losing two shots at the Golden Opportunity and making a fool of myself in the Supreme Gauntlet.
At least I kept on showing up. Can’t say that about you.
Looked like the great Frank Lynn vs Lucas Crowe match I predicted would never happen. Two consecutive rookies of the year falling flat on their faces, one in front of the whole world and the other in private, apparently running off to hide in a shack somewhere to bulk up and have a good cry over how that mean David Brennan hurt you.
Oh how the tides have turned. I found my footing and am climbing up the rankings. Whitner… Demon… Quinn… Ahriman… all of them found out first hand I’m no pushover. You’re next, Lucas Crowe!
Nine months after disappearing, you’re back even bigger and badder than before.
Nice job producing those creepy videos. They might scare a lesser man but not me. I’m onto you. You might as well be that SNL wannabe Danny Young wiping out a monastery full of kung fu monks with a smirk on your face and a cheeky “Gotcha!” as you exit stage left.
You’re overcompensating for something. Whatever it was that drove you into hiding is still there in the back of your tiny little brain making you nervous about your comeback.
Is it the voice of David Brennan telling you what a piece of sh*t you are?
Is it the voice of Justin Tyme thanking you for dumping him before he could dump you because you weren’t good enough?
Is it the voices of the Wreckers calling you a failure and laughing at how stupid they were for following your lead?
Or is it the voice of Frank Lynn telling you a truth you don’t want to hear?
You have nine months of ring rust to work off.
I’m not the man you should be wrestling as you try to get your form back. I’m on fire right now. I’m riding a wave of success. Real success. Not that pie in the sky fake success I had going for me last year.
In case you haven’t been paying attention, let me catch you up on current events.
David Brennan has been on a tear and is now the owner of every belt in the goddamn universe. He can’t possibly hold onto all those belts. Either he will tire himself out trying to take on all comers OR Lila will strip him of a belt or two. One way or another, Davey boy’s grip on the gold will loosen. The opportunity is there for someone to step up and make their claim.
While Brennan was playing King Midas, I was working my way up the ladder to contender status. I got a little payback against Ante Whitner at Ultimate Supremacy. I choked out Trace Demon to add to my résumé. I gave notice to Joe Bishop that I was a lot closer to being one of the elite than he or anybody else thought. Last show, Anna Ahriman tried to use me as a stepping stone but I shut that sh*t down.
I am making a strong case for myself the old fashioned way. I’m earning it.
You already have a strong case. You were the National Champion and unified it with the International Championship. Even after your loss to Brennan you were still a contender. I’m sure there was a spot in the Supreme Gauntlet for you if you had wanted it.
By the way, thanks for saying no and leaving us with a Hugh Jass and the flippy floppy shooting star guy. They really added to the prestige of the tournament.
Regardless, any seven foot tall damn near four hundred pound monster who is a past champion has to be considered a contender no matter how long a break from wrestling he has taken.
So here I go again.
I’m in a match where I have to win to keep myself at the top of the potential contenders list that I’m sure Lila keeps locked in her desk drawer next to a half empty bottle of scotch because there is no way that bottle is full after dealing with all of the lunatics in the WFWF.
Be warned Luke. I’m not the rookie you may remember. I am a veteran now, hungry to start filling up my résumé with some meaningful accomplishments. I am the Rookie of the Year who IS living up to the hype. I’m the Lethal Weapon Frank Lynn!
The WFWF writers said it best: I am the real deal!
You may think you’re the one coming after me so you can send a message that the Motor City Nightmare is back with bad intentions.
You’re wrong.
I’m coming for you!
Size doesn’t matter. The bigger they are the harder they fall.
I’m sure you’ve heard both before.
Its a very apt description of our match because I know every throw and hold that will use your own size against you. What you think is your greatest advantage is actually a disadvantage when facing an experienced MMA fighter. I will take you down, twist you up like a pretzel, and make you cry like the world’s largest baby.
Don’t take it personal. It’s what I do.
It’s too bad the suits didn’t hype this match more. It may not be the main event of SuperBrawl but it is the first ever meeting between the last two WFWF Rookies of the Year. They really should have played that up. Unlike Anna Ahriman, who for all her bluster turned out to be nothing more than a rookie in need of more training and experience, you really are a rising star. Our match is two of the best and brightest rising stars fighting for dominance. My star just happens to be shining a little brighter than yours.
I’m going to beat you and get one step closer to a championship match. How badly I beat you is entirely dependent on whether you want to play by the rules or not. I may be focused on earning a title shot but that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about the revolution. Do something unworthy of a pure wrestling match and I will make you pay.
I hope you man up, fight a fair fight, and stick around after I beat you. The WFWF needs all the warm bodies it can get.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll get bored at some point down the road and take a break, opening the door for you.
That’s the only way you or anybody else is getting a shot because as long as I’m around, the door of opportunity is closed to all but me. Ask Anna Ahriman. Slammed that f*cking door right in her face.
Welcome back, Luke.
I’m waiting to slam the door in your face.
Notes:
The quote from the e-mail in the closing monologue is pulled straight from my “Furious Frank” RP for The Gate show last year. I’d like to think that bad guy™ would be proud of me for pulling out a year old nugget for this match.
Thanks to Rated R for the use of Trace Demon and the help getting his dialogue just right.
Good luck to Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion .
I dont know good luck 
