Post by Thunder on Aug 17, 2006 12:10:43 GMT -5
An episode of WFWF Code Red is playing on a very large television. The referee in the ring has a title belt in his hand. He gives it to Thunder, the other man in the ring, and raises his hand. He climbs up the middle rope and holds the belt up in victory. Suddenly, the picture freezes. The camera slowly pans back, making more the surroundings visible. The TV is placed in the middle of a huge entertainment center, along with a DVD and VCR player. The Thunder eventually comes into view. The only light that is on in the room comes from the fireplace behind him. He wears a suit and sits on a luxurious leather recliner. He holds the remote in his hand. But he is not sitting the way one would expect: relaxing with his feet up and back against the chair. Instead, his body is tense. He sits up as if he is completely transfixed on the image burned onto the screen. Eventually, as if he has seen enough, he becomes less tense and finally sits back in the chair.
Becoming a champion is a champion is an amazing thing. It is something that even my massive amount of money cannot buy. The feeling that you get when the referee’s hand hits the mat for the third time and he raises your hand is sheer euphoria. When that belt is in your hand you feel like you are on top of the world. It is what every wrestler dreams about, it is what they crave. But so few ever get championship gold in their hands. I have been there once before, I am a former TV Champion. Anyone who is a former champion knows about another feeling that you get. You are at the top of your game, but then suddenly, out of nowhere, it’s gone.
Thunder picks up the remote, and with a press of the power button the TV screen turns black. The remote drops to the floor; the batteries fly into the air upon impact.
There’s no way around it. It happens to every champion. You defeat all comers until one day you meet your match. You come up against someone who is as good or better than you in every single way. And when the champion meets his match, more often than not he falls. Bronx Bomber, tonight is that night for you. Sure, you did good defending the title on house shows but now you have to do it on the biggest stage of them all—Superbrawl IV. And as if it wasn’t bad enough for you already, you’ve got to defend the Internet Title against seven other men. It’ll be too much for you to take. You will crumble under the pressure and I will be there to pick up the pieces. But I’m not over looking my other six opponents. Let’s take a moment to size them up, or at least the ones who have a chance of showing up.
The other six men in this match are quite the motley crew of wrestlers. But they all have one think in common: they need a reality check, and that’s what they’re getting at Superbrawl IV. Take Brady Cool for example. How can you honestly say that after one match in WFWF that you are a “winner”? You are going to find tonight that to be a winner you need talent. It has recently come to my attention that the other wrestlers in the match have a tendency to blow off their matches and not show up. Are you kidding me? This is the big time and if you care so little that you don’t come to your matches, than I’m not wasting my breath talking about you. If you don’t want it that bad, then give it to someone else. Let me tell everyone right now, I want that Internet Title more than anyone else.
But I as I sit here right now, I begin to wonder why I want to be champion so bad. With all of my money, I could simply create a title like someone else. I could sacrifice my body in hardcore matches for a chance at a belt. But I am above all of that. I want to go into that ring and by own wrestling ability, defeat another man knowing that I am better than him. And that is what will happen to you tonight, Bronx Bomber. Hold the Internet Title tightly in your hands because while you are fending off six other men, I’ll snatch it away. And then you will feel the same cold, unwelcoming feeling that every champion gets at the end of their reign. The belt that once sat on your shoulder will suddenly be gone.
The camera moves closer to the TV, eventually leaving Thunder out of view. It moves closer until the blank image on TV consumes the entire picture. The scene fades.
OOC: I thinked it turned out okay. The description is lacking some, but I think the dialogue
is good. Feedback is welcomed.
Becoming a champion is a champion is an amazing thing. It is something that even my massive amount of money cannot buy. The feeling that you get when the referee’s hand hits the mat for the third time and he raises your hand is sheer euphoria. When that belt is in your hand you feel like you are on top of the world. It is what every wrestler dreams about, it is what they crave. But so few ever get championship gold in their hands. I have been there once before, I am a former TV Champion. Anyone who is a former champion knows about another feeling that you get. You are at the top of your game, but then suddenly, out of nowhere, it’s gone.
Thunder picks up the remote, and with a press of the power button the TV screen turns black. The remote drops to the floor; the batteries fly into the air upon impact.
There’s no way around it. It happens to every champion. You defeat all comers until one day you meet your match. You come up against someone who is as good or better than you in every single way. And when the champion meets his match, more often than not he falls. Bronx Bomber, tonight is that night for you. Sure, you did good defending the title on house shows but now you have to do it on the biggest stage of them all—Superbrawl IV. And as if it wasn’t bad enough for you already, you’ve got to defend the Internet Title against seven other men. It’ll be too much for you to take. You will crumble under the pressure and I will be there to pick up the pieces. But I’m not over looking my other six opponents. Let’s take a moment to size them up, or at least the ones who have a chance of showing up.
The other six men in this match are quite the motley crew of wrestlers. But they all have one think in common: they need a reality check, and that’s what they’re getting at Superbrawl IV. Take Brady Cool for example. How can you honestly say that after one match in WFWF that you are a “winner”? You are going to find tonight that to be a winner you need talent. It has recently come to my attention that the other wrestlers in the match have a tendency to blow off their matches and not show up. Are you kidding me? This is the big time and if you care so little that you don’t come to your matches, than I’m not wasting my breath talking about you. If you don’t want it that bad, then give it to someone else. Let me tell everyone right now, I want that Internet Title more than anyone else.
But I as I sit here right now, I begin to wonder why I want to be champion so bad. With all of my money, I could simply create a title like someone else. I could sacrifice my body in hardcore matches for a chance at a belt. But I am above all of that. I want to go into that ring and by own wrestling ability, defeat another man knowing that I am better than him. And that is what will happen to you tonight, Bronx Bomber. Hold the Internet Title tightly in your hands because while you are fending off six other men, I’ll snatch it away. And then you will feel the same cold, unwelcoming feeling that every champion gets at the end of their reign. The belt that once sat on your shoulder will suddenly be gone.
The camera moves closer to the TV, eventually leaving Thunder out of view. It moves closer until the blank image on TV consumes the entire picture. The scene fades.
OOC: I thinked it turned out okay. The description is lacking some, but I think the dialogue
is good. Feedback is welcomed.
