Post by Cris on Mar 23, 2013 20:51:03 GMT -4
All that you desired when you were a child
was to be old, was to be old.
Now that you are here, suddenly you fear
you've lost control, you've lost control.
Do you like the person you've become?
was to be old, was to be old.
Now that you are here, suddenly you fear
you've lost control, you've lost control.
Do you like the person you've become?
One decision changes everything.
One decision can alter a life.
One decision can end the world.
All it takes is one decision to leave a mark in history. Be it good or bad, one decision.
But really, we’re not talking about mankind. We’re not talking about the end of the world - this is professional wrestling. Rasslemania IX.
Every ignorant fool will give you their take on professional wrestling - but the wrestlers are real people...who deal with real problems.
Christian Kane is no different. On March 24th APW’s biggest show of the year, Rasslemania will take place in Kane’s hometown of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. But really...it isn’t the Canadian Sensation’s hometown. What has Canada ever done for him? In fact, what has anywhere done for him? Everywhere he goes...he’s the bad guy. Kane isn’t the hometown hero. They’ll cheer, but it doesn’t affect him. Let Logan have it, he probably needs it more than Kane. Christian is a drifter...somewhat of a lone wanderer...until he came to APW.
What is it? Insecurity?
The last time Christian Kane ever committed himself to the tag team division he was in a very, very dark place. Around March 2007...exactly 5 years ago. Not many know this, and those who do choose to ignore it, but Christian Kane’s fiancee passed away. And...it changed him.
All emotion he once had the ability to feel just...washed away. There was no time for grieving. He had to wrestle. He had to make enough money to pay the rent and feed himself. He needed enough money to get the bus to the gym. Money for gas, when he’d drive his shitty little car from shitty southern state to shitty southern state.
No longer did he have confidence. Washed away. Just an empty shell of a man who beat himself up for a living. A young kid, really.
What other option did he have? He sacrificed everything for her. Dropped out of college. Left a job to live with her in Nashville. And it all washed away.
What kind of life is that?
You live for the sole purpose of another and when they cease to exist...what are you left with? A slab of marble to remember them by? Are you fucking kidding me?
That is no life.
No one knows the story of Christian Kane because no one gives a fuck. Maybe if he’d be a little nicer, people would - but what’s the point? This world is beyond saving. Christian Kane is beyond saving. He lives for no one but himself now.
Why shouldn’t he?
A single decision can alter the course of history. Change a life.
Kane’s decision. His life.
Enough. All he does is think about it. He has no one to blame but himself.
...
Under the weight of his own mistakes. That’s how he lives.
Pathetic.
It all crept upon you,
in the night it got you
and plagued your mind,
it plagues your mind.
Every day, it passes
faster than the last did,
and you'll be old,
soon you'll be old.
Do you like the person you've become?
in the night it got you
and plagued your mind,
it plagues your mind.
Every day, it passes
faster than the last did,
and you'll be old,
soon you'll be old.
Do you like the person you've become?
♠♠♠
March 17th
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
“Fucking stupid day.” Kane snaps as he takes headgear from his striking coach, Elijah de Vries. “Green?”
“It’s St. Patricks Day, isn’t it?” The Dutchman responds, a hint of jest in his tone.
Rolling his eyes, Christian throws the headgear aside. “Don’t fucking need it.”
Elijah sighs. Kane can be difficult to work with sometimes, and this was one of those times. He attempted to catch the headgear before the Canadian Sensation threw it aside, but he was way too late. In fact, Kane almost hit his sparring partner with the protective headgear, a young, female boxer from Texas. “Your call, I guess.” Kane turns away from his coach as he puts on his gloves. “Let me introduce you to the girl you’re sparring with today, at least. Audrey, this is Christian Kane. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
The name...so familiar. Snapping his head towards the girl Christian glances at her, then at Elijah. “What did you say her name was? Aubrey?”
The girl seems rather shy, and a little too embarrassed to correct the Original Bad Guy so de Vries speaks for her. “No. Audrey.”
“Is this some kind of joke?” Kane’s voice grows loud, enough for a few people in the gym to turn around and see what’s going on. Defusing the situation quickly, Elijah tells everyone to get back to what they were doing before sending Kane and Audrey into the ring for a sparring session. As Kane gets into the ring Elijah mouths for him to go easy on her.
No one gets anywhere in life if they’re treated like a baby.
“30 percent?” The girl asks, or rather, suggests for the intensity of the sparring session.
With a shrug Kane agrees and they begin to spar. Very lightly at first...but then...Kane’s gets to thinking. And when people like Christian Kane start thinking...bad things happen. One stiff jab turns into two...which then turns into a flurry. Then things start getting blurry. Not much can be remembered. Blind rage.
Thirty percent?
The last thing he remembers is being dragged off her unconscious body after reigning down on her with a heavy ungloved hand. Who the fuck does she think she is?
Cunt.
Christian Kane sits in the locker room across from a dented metal locker, towel around his neck, leaning back, breathing heavy. He takes a look at his blood stained fist, a frown still firmly upon his face. She had no right. No fucking right. One of the most important matches in Christian Kane’s career and he’s supposed to train with a dumb little bitch?
“What the hell happened out there?”
Kane looks away from his fist as Kaylyn James Evans walks into the locker room, pointing behind her where a crowd is gathered around the training ring as first aid is delivered to Audrey.
“I don’t know.”
KJE sighs as she spots Kane’s bloodied hand. She walks over and sits next to Kane. “It’s because of the name, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?” Kane asks, a little surprised that KJE hit the nail on the head so quickly. This has never happened before. Silently, Kane’s a little scared. Scared of himself right now. Aubrey J Parker is in his head. Always on his mind - and she’s not his only opponent on Sunday.
“I trained with her a few days ago. I thought the same thing...but I didn’t do...that. You can’t let her get in your head.”
“She’s not in my fucking head. I just saw red, that’s all.”
KJE nods. She knows the feeling. Who doesn’t? Especially when AJP’s involved. “You do that at Rasslemania and we’ll be fine.”
“Of course we’ll be fine. Girl, we can both go 50% on these guys at Rasslemania and we’ll still walk out with the tag titles.” He wipes the blood off his hand. “Doesn’t matter how we do it, though. Just as long as we win.”
“No room for mistakes.”
“There never is.” Kane retorts quickly. Mistakes, ultimately have plagued the two’s tag team run together, but Rasslemania is a turning point. A crossroads. Their destiny is firmly in their own hands. All they have to do is reach out and grab it.
Easier said than done...but not when you’re Christian Kane and Kaylyn J Evans.
Everyone seems to overlook them, especially in this match - but if they work as a cohesive unit like they know they can...then there’s no reason why they can’t be the new tag team champions of the world come the night of the 24th of March...
♠♠♠
I won’t lie to you. My mind is all over the place right now.
I’m going a little crazy and all I want to do is fight. To wrestle. I want to put my hands on all four of you and hurt you. Me and Kaylyn both do. But I...I feel like I have somewhat of a point to prove. I know I should just ignore it, but I read what people say. Blogs. Twitter. Whatever.
A few days ago I saw a blog by some writer, wanna know the headline?
‘CHRISTIAN KANE - PERPETUAL CHOKER’.
Took all the resolve I had to not track down that motherfucker and knock his ass clean out. I don’t know where all the hatred stems from, but honestly - it’s undeserved. I'm not all about the money. I don’t show up to collect a paycheck. I’ve wrestled for nearly a decade and I have accolades to fucking show for it. I don’t need some fat fuck in his mom’s basement spending all night tapping away at his keyboard in fury at how much of a ‘choker’ I am. I get that I’ve been on a skid. A little downward curve, sure.
I’m enough of a professional to recognize one when I see one and I know for a fact that I can just as easily come out of it as I went into it. My right foot is a stick of a dynamite and in one fucking second I can end a match. One opening. One opportunity is all I need to win the tag team titles for my team.
This writer gave us the name ‘Sex and the Kitty’. Is that a thing? I’m not sure. But the important thing is that ‘APW Tag Team Champions’ will precede that sooner rather than later.
He wrote that ‘we didn’t deserve a place in this match’, well guess what motherfucker? Life isn’t fair. God has figuratively squatted over me and taken a shit on my life SEVERAL times, but I’m still standing. I’m still going and I don’t give a fuck whether or not you think me and Kaylyn deserve to be here or not because we are. M&M and The Dying Breed can suck my fucking dick if they don’t like it. I have nothing to lose going into this match and I’m going to wrestle exactly like that.
We’ll see who’s hiding behind who Sunday night. We’ll see who’s blindly following who and we’ll see who walks out with the fucking titles.
Spoiler alert: it’s gonna be me and KJE.
Aubrey, you have been a thorn in my side for way too long. You’ve got the looks of an angel, but you’re nothing more than an ugly little demon cunt who needs to be put in her place. Luckily for you, I’m an expert at putting ugly little demon cunts in their place, so I’m pretty much perfect for the job. If this was any other match I’d rabble on about how I’m going to grope you and maybe slip a finger in if I get the chance but I’m not going to say or do any of that. I’m just going to break you. Your will, your face, your arm, your leg. Whatever I can. I don’t like you one bit, and no, we can’t be friends after this. We can’t even be enemies. I just want rid of you. No words can express the hatred I harbour for you, so I’m just going to let my actions do the talking. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove by pissing me off, but it’s going to backfire.
And Logan...I’m going to show you why I got signed to such a lucrative contract. You’re right, you’re right - I’ve lost every big match I’ve had here, but I can accept that. It’s cool. I am the best. I know that. I don’t need a title to prove that, but taking them from you makes me want them so bad. It’s a little redundant to say I’m in the best shape of my life, because let’s face it, I always am...but I trained hard for this match. I trained hard to prove people like you wrong. I know I can beat you Alexander and I won’t stop until I do. I’ll keep coming back and I can fucking promise that. We’re both Torontarians, but no doubt you’ll endure the adoration of the crowd much more than me. I’ll be the fucking bad guy and my own town can boo the shit out of me when I’m pounding your stupid face in. Cool.
The Dying Breed. You’re both bitches. Especially you, Anthony, and I don’t give a fuck what you’ve done in this company. You’re a bitch. You’re a bitch on Twitter, you’re a bitch in the ring, and you’re a bitch outside the ring. You live by a solid set of morals and you endeavour to uphold and improve society, but what you don’t understand is that society is fucked. There is no going back now and you’re simply delaying the inevitable. It doesn’t matter what you do. You can defeat me, you can win back those titles but there will always people like me who’ll come back at you. You’re fighting a never ending battle and it’s only a matter of time before your spirit will break. You’re a bitch. So I’m gonna treat you like a bitch.
Now Jair on the other hand...you’re not so much a bitch than a toddler. Do you get who you’re overlooking here, kid? I dare you to act stupid Sunday night. See what happens. You’re preoccupied with M&M and I get that, but turn away from me for one second and you’ll be staring up at the motherfucking lights. I’m done with these fucking articles about me being an ultimate underachiever, a perpetual choke artist - I’m better than that. I can’t prove it with my words, so I’ll do it with my fists.
Gold or no gold, someone’s getting hurt.
#STUDLIFE
I’m going a little crazy and all I want to do is fight. To wrestle. I want to put my hands on all four of you and hurt you. Me and Kaylyn both do. But I...I feel like I have somewhat of a point to prove. I know I should just ignore it, but I read what people say. Blogs. Twitter. Whatever.
A few days ago I saw a blog by some writer, wanna know the headline?
‘CHRISTIAN KANE - PERPETUAL CHOKER’.
Took all the resolve I had to not track down that motherfucker and knock his ass clean out. I don’t know where all the hatred stems from, but honestly - it’s undeserved. I'm not all about the money. I don’t show up to collect a paycheck. I’ve wrestled for nearly a decade and I have accolades to fucking show for it. I don’t need some fat fuck in his mom’s basement spending all night tapping away at his keyboard in fury at how much of a ‘choker’ I am. I get that I’ve been on a skid. A little downward curve, sure.
I’m enough of a professional to recognize one when I see one and I know for a fact that I can just as easily come out of it as I went into it. My right foot is a stick of a dynamite and in one fucking second I can end a match. One opening. One opportunity is all I need to win the tag team titles for my team.
This writer gave us the name ‘Sex and the Kitty’. Is that a thing? I’m not sure. But the important thing is that ‘APW Tag Team Champions’ will precede that sooner rather than later.
He wrote that ‘we didn’t deserve a place in this match’, well guess what motherfucker? Life isn’t fair. God has figuratively squatted over me and taken a shit on my life SEVERAL times, but I’m still standing. I’m still going and I don’t give a fuck whether or not you think me and Kaylyn deserve to be here or not because we are. M&M and The Dying Breed can suck my fucking dick if they don’t like it. I have nothing to lose going into this match and I’m going to wrestle exactly like that.
We’ll see who’s hiding behind who Sunday night. We’ll see who’s blindly following who and we’ll see who walks out with the fucking titles.
Spoiler alert: it’s gonna be me and KJE.
Aubrey, you have been a thorn in my side for way too long. You’ve got the looks of an angel, but you’re nothing more than an ugly little demon cunt who needs to be put in her place. Luckily for you, I’m an expert at putting ugly little demon cunts in their place, so I’m pretty much perfect for the job. If this was any other match I’d rabble on about how I’m going to grope you and maybe slip a finger in if I get the chance but I’m not going to say or do any of that. I’m just going to break you. Your will, your face, your arm, your leg. Whatever I can. I don’t like you one bit, and no, we can’t be friends after this. We can’t even be enemies. I just want rid of you. No words can express the hatred I harbour for you, so I’m just going to let my actions do the talking. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove by pissing me off, but it’s going to backfire.
And Logan...I’m going to show you why I got signed to such a lucrative contract. You’re right, you’re right - I’ve lost every big match I’ve had here, but I can accept that. It’s cool. I am the best. I know that. I don’t need a title to prove that, but taking them from you makes me want them so bad. It’s a little redundant to say I’m in the best shape of my life, because let’s face it, I always am...but I trained hard for this match. I trained hard to prove people like you wrong. I know I can beat you Alexander and I won’t stop until I do. I’ll keep coming back and I can fucking promise that. We’re both Torontarians, but no doubt you’ll endure the adoration of the crowd much more than me. I’ll be the fucking bad guy and my own town can boo the shit out of me when I’m pounding your stupid face in. Cool.
The Dying Breed. You’re both bitches. Especially you, Anthony, and I don’t give a fuck what you’ve done in this company. You’re a bitch. You’re a bitch on Twitter, you’re a bitch in the ring, and you’re a bitch outside the ring. You live by a solid set of morals and you endeavour to uphold and improve society, but what you don’t understand is that society is fucked. There is no going back now and you’re simply delaying the inevitable. It doesn’t matter what you do. You can defeat me, you can win back those titles but there will always people like me who’ll come back at you. You’re fighting a never ending battle and it’s only a matter of time before your spirit will break. You’re a bitch. So I’m gonna treat you like a bitch.
Now Jair on the other hand...you’re not so much a bitch than a toddler. Do you get who you’re overlooking here, kid? I dare you to act stupid Sunday night. See what happens. You’re preoccupied with M&M and I get that, but turn away from me for one second and you’ll be staring up at the motherfucking lights. I’m done with these fucking articles about me being an ultimate underachiever, a perpetual choke artist - I’m better than that. I can’t prove it with my words, so I’ll do it with my fists.
Gold or no gold, someone’s getting hurt.
#STUDLIFE
