Post by bad guy™ on Oct 24, 2017 20:32:14 GMT -5
The WFWF is waaaaaay more of a sh*tfest than I ever thought it could possibly be. I grew up watching men like Thunder, Burton and Drakz constantly winning championships…they made the business seem glamourous. Well…I’m not entirely sure if the name Drakz and the word glamour ever can go in the same sentence. But the hoopla of being on top…it was energizing to feel as a fan. I remember sitting in front of my TV in 2010, watching Thunder fall on Kurt Burton and begin the longest championship reign, of any kind, in history. Thunder took on all comers, dispatching his own brand of ass kicking on the WFWF roster, falling short finally after five hundred and nineteen days of dominance. But since then…what’s happened with the International Championship? Demon held it for a while, and no one remembers that reign. Dave Demento held it for a while. No one remembers him. I remember someone lighting themselves on fire to win a match for the International Championship. I think his name was $#@w4 M@!@k@!. There, happy? Not named specifically. But seriously though, what’s become of this championship I grew up idolizing? My dad held it…but I can’t even remember who beat him for it. So…what now? The WFWF is such a mess, we’ve got one guy holding all of the titles and no one able to step up singularly to fight him. It’s SO bad, we’re coming to Puerto Rico with just one match. Open invitation match I only agreed to so I could come and spend a couple of weeks aiding in hurricane relief and get paid for it. Christ, this company is almost as much of a mess as this RP.
Speaking of messes though, Brennan, how you doin’ handsome? You’ve been a busy bee since I disappeared. You’re still claiming the WFWF Tag Team Championships even though my dad’s long retired. You’ve recently smacked Bishop back to Britain…thanks for that one, and got the WFWF Championship for your troubles. At least something good came of me failing against his goon Lynn. And, of course, you’re still International Champion. I take issue with some of this, man. I mean, you’re the guy. After over a decade in the WFWF of falling short, you’ve finally been added to the list of names forever enshrined in our companies’ title history. Not only that, but you’re a Triple Crown champion all in a matter of a few weeks. But when is enough enough? You’re not one to shy away from a fight, but when a new team comes up, who are you going to find to work with you when you’ve run through the whole roster? I’m your friend. I’m not your ally. And any opportunity offered to…whoever, to be your partner, you really think they’ll work along side the WFWF Champion? Hell no. They’ll take the free title reign for one night and stab you in the back in hopes of getting a WFWF Championship shot if they piss you off enough. And tonight, you’re fighting all comers at the behest of ownership. You think you have the stamina to wrestle four, five, six matches in one night? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the cooperate bodies that be may see the situation as I do. You’re one man running roughshod over the WFWF, and while you’ve more than earned your seat at the table of the greats...one man holding all of the championships isn’t best for business.
So here’s what I’m gonna do.
I’m not gonna sugarcoat and fluff myself and my resume. I won’t say that I suck, but I’ve hardly made an impact since I got here. I’ve made more enemies than friends, and I’ve been set aside as a part-time attraction. The daughter of a once was. I have little hope for this match, but I am making a promise that you will not walk out champion. You’re probably on cloud nine right now, all of that gold unable to weigh you down as much as the liquor used to. I have no delusions of winning this match. I do, however, have faith that as your friend I can kick your head hard enough to make the job easier for someone else to finish it.
We’re friends, David. Well, I consider you a friend. And as a friend, I can’t let this reign continue. And as a member of the WFWF’s…ahem…limited roster, I have to do my best to make sure opportunities can fall to those who deserve them most. The roster is suffering under your rule, hogging all the gold and glory. It’s about time that changes.
Oh, and Frank Lynn. You’re announced for this match too. I haven’t forgotten what I owe you, buddy. If I get the chance, you’re eating sh*t.
Speaking of messes though, Brennan, how you doin’ handsome? You’ve been a busy bee since I disappeared. You’re still claiming the WFWF Tag Team Championships even though my dad’s long retired. You’ve recently smacked Bishop back to Britain…thanks for that one, and got the WFWF Championship for your troubles. At least something good came of me failing against his goon Lynn. And, of course, you’re still International Champion. I take issue with some of this, man. I mean, you’re the guy. After over a decade in the WFWF of falling short, you’ve finally been added to the list of names forever enshrined in our companies’ title history. Not only that, but you’re a Triple Crown champion all in a matter of a few weeks. But when is enough enough? You’re not one to shy away from a fight, but when a new team comes up, who are you going to find to work with you when you’ve run through the whole roster? I’m your friend. I’m not your ally. And any opportunity offered to…whoever, to be your partner, you really think they’ll work along side the WFWF Champion? Hell no. They’ll take the free title reign for one night and stab you in the back in hopes of getting a WFWF Championship shot if they piss you off enough. And tonight, you’re fighting all comers at the behest of ownership. You think you have the stamina to wrestle four, five, six matches in one night? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the cooperate bodies that be may see the situation as I do. You’re one man running roughshod over the WFWF, and while you’ve more than earned your seat at the table of the greats...one man holding all of the championships isn’t best for business.
So here’s what I’m gonna do.
I’m not gonna sugarcoat and fluff myself and my resume. I won’t say that I suck, but I’ve hardly made an impact since I got here. I’ve made more enemies than friends, and I’ve been set aside as a part-time attraction. The daughter of a once was. I have little hope for this match, but I am making a promise that you will not walk out champion. You’re probably on cloud nine right now, all of that gold unable to weigh you down as much as the liquor used to. I have no delusions of winning this match. I do, however, have faith that as your friend I can kick your head hard enough to make the job easier for someone else to finish it.
We’re friends, David. Well, I consider you a friend. And as a friend, I can’t let this reign continue. And as a member of the WFWF’s…ahem…limited roster, I have to do my best to make sure opportunities can fall to those who deserve them most. The roster is suffering under your rule, hogging all the gold and glory. It’s about time that changes.
Oh, and Frank Lynn. You’re announced for this match too. I haven’t forgotten what I owe you, buddy. If I get the chance, you’re eating sh*t.
OOC: Participation piece as I promised to Trace. There's a reason I'm tied at the moment. But I promised a one off to keep the card rolling, so here we go. Maybe I'll outlast File. Maybe.