Post by Shadow on Jul 1, 2013 2:48:48 GMT -4
THEN...
[shadow=white,left,1200]Phoenix, Arizona
June 17, 2013
Local Time: 10:32 PM[/shadow]
The monochromatic screen, displaying the date and time, cuts to a locker room at the U.S. Airlines center in Phoenix. Meltdown! Shadow is shown sitting in his locker room. How he got in the arena without Hannah Storm finding out, no one knows. He is watching something on his laptop. The audio is what gives it away.
Johnny Chase on Laptop: Shadow's fading...
The June 13th edition of Overdrive. Shadow watches himself fighting his way back to his feet against Jake Titan. While he's sitting there hunched over in the steel chair staring at his screen, you can see the anger slowly over taking him. He again feels rush when he drove Jake Titan to the mat with a powerful spinebuster. But Shadow knew what was coming. Titan is slow to his feet while Shadow tries to get oxygen to his brain. He staggers and charges going for the Big Boot, but Jake Titan ducks it! Shadow turns, grabs Titan's fist and delivers the Eclipse! The count is heard
Cheering Overdrive Crowd on Laptop: 1...2...
BAM!
Shadow flinches in real life. The bell rings as Shadow watches. The booing of the crowd can be heard on the laptop. Suddenly, Shadow's hand twitches because Alexander Duvall appears on stage. That face, Shadow would never forget his face. Someday, somehow, Shadow would have his revenge.
Alexander Duvall: Well, well, well. Look at that. You actually won. After everything I threw at you, I have to say, I'm a little impressed. Still, you didn't PIN Jake Titan. So you're not fired from APW. Just OVERDRIVE!
You can hear the roar as the onscreen Shadow grabs both members of NBK and delivers that monstrous double chokeslam. Back in the locker room, the big man pauses the video, and calmly closes his laptop. After setting it down in his duffle bag, Shadow stands up, sniffs and then cracks his neck to the side. There is a folded stack of papers in Shadow's hand that is now visible; his Meltdown contract no doubt.
Shadow: Okay. Now I'm ready.
He's pissed. Without any hesitation, Shadow signs the contract and drops it onto the steel chair. He turns to the door and marches toward it as the security camera feed cuts out: 10:37 PM.
NOW...
“Shadow, man? You in there?”
The pale glow cast on the walls of the study is cut by the bright yellow light coming from beyond the opening door. Sean Michaels poked his head through the crack and looked at Shadow. The big man was doing crunches in front of the television. Surprisingly the room really is a study, except there is a television is over the fireplace, a punching bag hangs from the bottom of the overhead second level. And there is a weight lifting bench on the opposite side of the room.
“I don’t know why you call this gym a study.” Michaels begins as he looks around shaking his head.
“There’s a fireplace!” Shadow argues as he motions to it.
Michaels shakes his head. He closes the door as he enters. Shadow begins another set as Sean looks at the screen. It’s a Test for the Best promo from 2010. The specific scene shows Shadow taking a swig of a bottle of whiskey and hurling the bottle across the room at an APW intern.
“Looks like wrestling.” Michaels comments on the television.
“My old promos. From back before the return, before the Hall of Fame, before APW. Back when Slade and I used to drink a lot.” His voice is nostalgic, but there is a hint of disgust. “I mean we pulled some pretty heinous crap back in the day. And booze used to be a big part of it.”
“Those were different times.”
“How many times were we arrested Sean?”
Shadow finishes his set and looks at Michaels.
“Several times,” Michaels shrugs as he responds. He starts counting on his fingertips. “There was the fight with the cop in WAW, the “hostage” situation in ECFW, something in DUW. Oh can’t forget the prison riot.”
“Alright I’m sorry I asked.” He holds up his hand. “But the point I’m trying to make is about this cat Leon Roberts.”
“Your opponent this week?”
“Yeah that’s the chump.”
“What about him?”
Shadow stands. Picking up the remote, he cuts off the T.V. Something is troubling him, something deep down in the pit of his stomach. Whatever it is, it has to do with Roberts and Shadow knows it.
“Be honest, am I the only person who sees it? The similarities?” He motions to himself.
Michaels tilts his head to the side and leans against the wall. There was no denying it. Roberts did look like him. And thinking back, Michaels could remember how Shadow’s life was almost exactly like Roberts.
“Where are you going with this man?” Sean finally asks.
“Was I like that too?”
It was a powerful question. Everyone was floored when Slade quit drinking. Just up and all of a sudden, no one ever knew what happened that night. Just Slade. Shadow didn’t think much about it back then. Hell he didn’t quit for a-whole-nother year. But Shadow didn’t have an epiphany. He just decided to do it for the good of his health. Looking back on things all the stupid things he used to do, Shadow was disgusted with himself.
“You weren’t that bad.” Michaels tries to play it off.
He was lying. At least that's what Shadow thought at first
“Don’t,” Shadow started. “We both know that was rhetorical question. It don’t matter how you spin it. That’s what we were. This guy, Leon Roberts, he’s just a re-imagination of what we were. NBK/AKA they’re-"
“They’re a bastardization of what we WERE”
Michael steps forward. He was an original Ass Kicker. Him and Slade both.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. We did we got our asses in some deep sludge back in the day. Back before you joined up Slade and I did our time behind bars. We earned every moment of it. But we did it with ‘puh-nazz.’ Don’t ever compare the Killa’s to the AKA. They will never be what we were. You know better than that. You may be the only one of us left, but there has not and WILL NOT ever be a faction like the AKA. Take pride in who you are man. You bring it up often enough.”
Shadow wasn’t expecting Michael’s to come unhinged like this.
“And another thing.” He walks over and grabs the remote and turns the television back on, the promo cueing up once again. “This segment here. The one with, what’s that kid’s name? Yeah, Chip Sterling. You were in a bad mood that night. You were dealing with that bullshit you went through with Victor Hades. You were pissed. Leon Roberts is just some punk looking for a good a time. He creates trouble wherever he goes because he thinks he worships chaos...anarchy. The AKA was the pure embodiment of anarchy. We took orders from nobody, we worked together we were free dammit! This man, this man and his lawlessness are not us. They are a perverted interpretation anarchy. Their freedom is corrupted by chaos and disorder. So what if he looks like you, if he acts like Leon Roberts is not you.”
Michaels buries his index finger in Shadow’s chest. The big man was still recovering from the shock of Sean’s words.
“You’re right.” Shadow says He nods remembering. “This asshole ain’t some new age AKA… the NBK do not compare.”
Shadow stands there looking at the screen while he feels the fire burning inside his chest. He takes a deep breath as he watches himself on television. There was a reason these actions landed Shadow in the Hall of Fame, there was a reason he was known for who he was. He was going to remind Leon Roberts why that was.
On Meltdown last Monday, I made a statement. And dammit, this Monday night I will deliver! Leon Roberts, you want some giveback? Alright. I'll go one man wrecking crew on that pathetic dysfunctional troupe of inbreds you call the Natural Born Killas. First up was Jake Titan, now you. Hrm, I wonder if Michael Jennings will stay wise and keep himself off my radar.
Hell, I'm surprised you boys are even still together after screwing one another out of the Test for the Best battle royal. Seriously; first, all three of you couldn't make it through your qualifiers and then the battle royal? You eliminated your own partner! Sure blame it on Buckson Gooch, or Duvall for booking ya’ll against one another all you want; you still took out Jake Titan. With teamwork like that, I can see why the Killas are a force to be reckoned with.
Bullshit... You know what we all think of NBK? NoBody Kares.
But let's talk about Leon Roberts. That’s who we're all here for tonight anyway. Leon Roberts the "beast” with black face paint. Well son, I want to make something perfectly clear before we get started... Leon Roberts, I am not your father. I just wanted to get that out there. Dude, I'm not kidding, Look at you. All tall, blonde using my fucking moves. Pentagram slam? Bitch, you just can’t pull off the real Eclipse from the middle of the ring. So you see why I perceive as such. However, had you'd been my kid, I'd have sold your ass a long time ago.
Come on, look at you. You actually expect me to take you seriously? Walking around running your mouth, telling people how you got shot 14 times? You know damn well that you earned everyone of those... asshole. You actually think that you and that skank-trap slutbsag you call a manager, "Demonica," are supposed to be cool? Drinking, gambling... all that other dumbass shit you did that night... Is that what makes you a rebel? At least back when I had the tendency to drink my ass off, get into public altercations with my smoking hot real wrestler sidekick, Dita Morgan, we did it with style.
So no... Leon Roberts, you do not impress me. You’re no beast, you’re just another oversized, steroid-ridden, high school dropout reject with a subconscious wish to be Shadow. People like you Leon, you’re the reason people don’t respect us. You make wrestlers look like talentless rockstars with impulse control problems.
I get it, you're big; you're tough; you’re ugly. Who wouldn’t think you're a 'monster.' But I’m not afraid of you. What is there for me to be afraid of? So someone else wants to be just like “daddy.” That’s fine. I’ll treat this like my last tear through Meltdown.
Oh yeah, you weren’t around for that. Here let me give you a brief recap: every week - the same thing. Johnny Diamond pitted me against the next Meltdown “MonStar.” So every week I would walk out to that ring, hoping... screw that I was PRAYING that one of those rookies would give me a real fight. And sadly, every night ended with disappointment...
HEY! Your girlfriend know what that’s like too, doesn’t she? I mean come on, the bitch hires hookers because you can’t please her.
Jeez you’re pathetic.
What? You expected something more from me Leon? Why? Why should I respect you? You hit me with a fucking chair... TWICE! Respect you? Hell No!
But I will say this. You are not like the undedicated rookie trash I took out last year on Meltdown. You’ve made a name for yourself. Look at you list of accolades. All this “bad ass” stuff from other places. Big words like longest reigning... first and only. I got some words like that in my list too. It’s called Hall of Fame. I’m going to show you what that means.
Moreover, I’m going to show you what it means for the Hall of Famer to be back on Meltdown:
My last act as a Meltdown Megastar, at One Night in Hell 2012: I ended Michael Lively’s reign as North American champion. Then it took six simultaneous slash consecutive chair shots to put me down.
And then... Alexander tore me from this show when he took over Meltdown and tore me from the show. They dragged my lifeless body from this show. That’s what it took to tear me away.
What do you think I will do now that I’m home?
“Pure Destruction?” “Becoming what tried to break you and loving every second of it?” Son, I am going to break you.
