Post by The Hitman on May 2, 2012 18:41:54 GMT -4
When Steve Stryker woke up this morning, he never really expected things to go the way they did.
SMASH!
The window next to Steve Stryker’s head was broken open. Stryker jumped up from bed to peer out the window. No one was there, and no other noises were heard except from the traffic on the street. The sun felt good against Stryker’s face but his heart was still beating from the abrupt end to his dream about Kate Upton. He looked around the area of the broken window to see what caused such a disturbance. It didn’t take long for him to see the culprit. A rock about the size of his fist had come through the window. He picked it up to examine it. There was no markings, no name, no just cause. But in reality, Stryker already knew.
The Night Before:
Stryker hated this bar. He hated the people, he hated the bartenders, he hated the food, he hated everything about it. But of course, as inspires all adult male behavior, there was a girl. It’s always about the girl.
Stryker turned off his Moving Pictures album by Rush as he pulled up in front of “The Place”. What a douchy name. Stryker shut his car door and double checked that it was locked with his automatic starter. The familiar sound of a car beeping in Detroit was just another of a multitude of sounds in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, the loudest noise was from the bar, Ke$ha, Katy Perry, who really knows?
Luckily this time Stryker knew someone before he even made his way in. His friend Jim Cooper was working the door tonight. They used to work as bouncers together at the House of Blues down the street, Styker went on to work security at General Motors which was a far better job. He eventually left that job to start an MMA career. Always a good head on his shoulders. He and Jim had always gotten along before, tonight started no differently.
“Coops, what’s up?” Coops, what a ridiculous fucking name.
“Oh hey, hey, Mr. Stephen Stryker himself. Big man on campus slumming at The Place tonight?”
“Ah, the woman is meeting me here. Sometimes you gotta take one for the team.” Had she known she was being called “woman” Stryker wouldn’t have gotten laid for weeks.
“I feel ya man. Don’t worry about the cover, get in and get out man.” Well, at least there’s that.
Stryker shook hands with Jim Cooper and walked into the bar. Another man came up to him looking for the cover charge. Jim quickly turned and told the guy to fuck off and let Stryker in.
He started making his way through the bar, which, at 10:30pm, was no easy task. Fresh 21 year olds all over the place, guys standing in corners in big groups looking as tough as a cookie trying to loft out their scent for women to come flocking to them. Stryker had a feeling that the men would be on their own with this attitude. That, or they’d wait until last call and start picking up the scraps. Something that Stryker did in his college heydays, so he’s not one to really judge.
After examining the bar for a few minutes, Stryker realized he doesn’t have any common friends yet. He works his way through the line of people at the bar and orders a Bud Light. When did Bud Light become the big drink? When Stryker was in college it was always Budweiser, now kids called a regular old Bud a “Bud Heavy”, what a stupid name. He considered this fact for a few minutes longer while quickly polishing off his Bud Light.
Finally, he looked up, it was as if the crowd parted in the middle like the Red Sea. How fitting too that she’d be wearing a bright red dress. Just drop dead gorgeous, the type of beauty that men open doors even if she’s not going through them. The type of beauty that can leave a man literally breathless. Everyone has said it about their own girlfriends before that they’re “breath-taking” but normally it’s all platitudes. But, this girl, this girl was going to be the end of Stryker.
Her name was Bianca. Bianca De La Rosa. I mean, the name just flows so fluidly off the tongue. Oh god, can’t start thinking about her tongue. Bianca is 5’3”, an Olympic snowboarder in training. She was born in Mexico, but transplanted to Detroit when she turned 5 years old. So she has the slightest bit of an accent, but she’s a Detroit girl through and through.
Stryker made eye-contact with Bianca and as she smiled, his heart melted on the inside. What a feeling, truly made him weak in his knees.
“Hey stranger.” The Spanish accent came through on the “ger” sounded more like a “her”.
“Talk about a sight for sore eyes.” Clichéd hack.
“Thanks for coming down here, I know this isn’t normally your scene.”
“Well, that’s the understatement of the year.” As he responded he realized his surroundings even more and realized just how much he really cared for this woman.
Present:
Stryker swept up the glass and opened the door out to his yard and swept the shards out the door. Not a problem in the house now is it. When does he ever use the yard really?
He walked into the kitchen and grabbed some paper bags under the sink and a roll of duct tape from his junk drawer. This would be the quickest fix he thought. It’s warm enough, but who needs the bugs. Stryker created a window out of the paper bags and duct taped around the edges until it was a job that anyone describe as “good enough”.
Well, after last night, Stryker now needed a job, a girlfriend, and to get the hell out of Detroit. I guess really anyone should’ve seen it coming.
Last Night:
It was getting to be about 12:30am and Stryker had just enough of being at “The Place” he had quite a bit to drink and it was really time to get the hell out of there. Bianca was with her friends next to him, but not even really with them. Stryker ordered one last drink before he was going to tell Bianca it was time to go.
Before that though, he had to expel some of the alcohol from earlier in the urinal. He tells Bianca that he’ll be right back and makes his way through the crowd again.
Quick trip, no problems in there, which was good because as Stryker saw, there were problems at the bar. As normally happens, someone finds the balls to start talking to Bianca. The unfortunate part this time though was that this time the person was close to as big as Stryker was.
Stryker isn’t the biggest guy in the world, but he’s normally the biggest guy in the room at 6’3” and 285 pounds. But this fool trying to hang all over Bianca was close.
“Alright pal, move along.” Big time tough guy, Steve Stryker ladies and gentlemen.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Well that went as expected.
“She’s with me hot-shot, move along.”
“Well, why don’t we let the lady decide?” Flawless logic.
“I’ve already made the decision big boy, you’re done here.” Stryker starts turning on the intimidating boyfriend mojo.
“So you’re saying the nice lady here isn’t allowed to make a decision? Sounds like a real good relationship.” He turns back to Bianca. “If you want a real man sweetheart, find me before you leave.”
Well, that was all it really took for Stryker. He winds up knocks the poor guy to the ground with one punch.
“I told you, the decision was already made.”
The man had a tough time standing up, but it happened quickly enough. He went for a return punch but Stryker saw it coming and pushed it out of the way and drove his elbow into the man’s throat. The man grasped at his neck as the airflow was clearly restricted after a hit like that. Stryker was unfortunately done after that hit though as he felt four pairs of arms grab him and begin to drag him out.
Ok, so he was being thrown out, he had been thrown out before. Jim Cooper was on one side of him.
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Cooper screamed into his ear.
“Oh come on Coop, you must’ve seen it coming with me being here.”
“I don’t give a shit about that, do you know who you just beat the hell out of?”
Stryker had to rack his brain for a second. He certainly didn’t look familiar.
“What are you talking about?” Truly, no idea.
“That was Peter Fraz’s son!” Cooper let the words sink for a second.
Oh fuck. Peter Fraz is unfortunately the namesake of “Fraz’s Dungeon” Stryker’s home MMA fighting ring and his only sponsor. So, for all intents and purposed, Peter Fraz is Stryker’s boss.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? He didn’t even put up a fight!”
“He’s nothing like his old man, the only thing he got from his was his size and his mouth.”
Well, that’s a kick in the gut. Stryker was on his own now, out in the front of the bar. Bianca was following behind him. Thank God she wasn’t too pissed to leave him. She had before after he gets into bar fights. Which, is one of the main reasons he prefers to stay out of bars.
Stryker shook hands with Jim Cooper again and Cooper wished him luck. Stryker and Bianca walked to the car in silence and both entered. Stryker put his key in the ignition and roared up the engine of his 2009 Mustang. His big purchase after he was fired by General Motors. Guess it would’ve been better if he went with a Japanese made car, but figured Ford was good enough.
The two drove in silence for a bit longer before Bianca finally broke the silence.
“Why do you always have to do that?” Not a bad question.
“You know I’m over protective of you. I hate guys ogling you like that.”
“He made a good point about you not letting me make the decision.”
“Why? Were you going to pick him?”
“No, no, of course not, but wouldn’t have that been a bigger failure for him if I picked you right in front of him?” Good point.
Stryker didn’t have much to say after that.
Present:
Stryker began making breakfast and turned his TV on for background noise. He made himself a Denver Omelet that was cooked just perfectly. Such an odd talent for him to have.
As he finished cooking the omelet he walked over to the couch to take a seat. He checked on his TiVo for what had been recorded. He realized that he had a recording of Thursday Night Overdrive from Action Packed Wrestling. He switched it on and began to watch.
Last Night:
Stryker’s phone rang loudly in the silent car and he fumbled for it a bit before looking to see who was calling.
Peter Fraz, who would’ve though.
“Hi Peter, how are you?”
The voice coming from the other side of the phone was so loud that people driving on the other side of the hallway probably heard it.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, what the hell are you doing? If I ever find you I’m going to beat the ever living shit out of you. You better fucking go into hiding or I swear to God I will bury you six feet below my fucking building!” Eloquent.
Stryker hung up the phone. He knew it was only a matter of time before that phone call came in. Bianca looked at him with a very strange look. Stryker suddenly realized losing his job wasn’t the only issue he’s having tonight.
“What’s up B?” Smooth.
“What? Oh, nothing.” Denial!
“Oh come on B, I know when something is on your mind. This happens whenever I go to a bar, I know you’re upset, but there’s nothing that can be done now.”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s uh…”
“Spit it out B, you know you can tell me anything.”
“Well, I got a call from ESPN this morning.”
“Oh that’s great!”
“Well, yeah, but the thing is that I’m going to have to move to Burlington, Vermont for the next two years and commute between there and Montreal. They’re giving me a coach to work with before the next Olympics.”
Normally this would be an issue, but, Stryker just lost his job, they probably need security guards in Burlington too.
“That’s great sweetie, I can even come with you!”
“Well, yeah, that’s the thing. I don’t think you should.”
“What? Why not?”
“Uhm, there’s, just, there’s…”
Stryker screeched the car to a stop and pulled it over to the side of the road.
“There’s what B?”
Bianca burst into tears. “There’s someone else Steve.”
“You, you, you fucking bitch. Get out, get out of the damn car.”
“I only live a few miles away Steve, just bring me home.”
“Get. Out. Of. The. Fucking. Car.”
Bianca gets out of the car as Stryker speeds away.
Present:
Stryker finished his omelet and looked down at the rock that had gone through his window. So, it could’ve been Peter Fraz, his son, or even Bianca. But, the definite is that Stryker needed to get out of here.
He started to space out a bit looking at the television. As he watched the wresters on the screen he started to fantasize a bit. He could do that. Why doesn’t he just become a wrestler? That’d be perfect.
Good god. He did it. It’s a way out, it’s a job, and there are hot chicks around there all the time. He’d be just fine.
Three Hours Later:
“Mr. Rebel, thank you so much, yes, yes, please, that would be great. I’m so glad you saw my MMA bouts on YouTube, this is awesome.”
“Lexington, Kentucky? Yeah, I can get there by Sunday. No problem at all.”
“Warren Peace? Is that a real name?”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right. Uh, well, Steve Stryker is a pretty good name I think.”
“Yeah you’re right, I need an edge. Uh, how about, “The Hitman”?”
“Perfect, thanks again Mr. Rebel, I’ll see you this weekend!”
The Hitman? What a stupid nickname. Oh well, stuck with it now. Well, thank god for YouTube, who would’ve ever thought he’d get a chance with the best wrestling brand in North America. But, Lexington, Kentucky? Figured there would be maybe a better market than Kentucky. But, hey, keep on working, keep on working.
First match on Monday already, Stryker couldn’t believe it. Against Warren Peace? What an intriguing name. What kind of professional wrestler wants to promote “Peace” in their name. If anything you think they’d highlight the “War” part of the name. To each their own though.
What a great entrance into APW this will be though. First match on Monday Night Meltdown, Stryker will be able to prove himself immediately. No jitters when you’re the very first match. Only a matter of time before he works himself up to Thursday Night Overdrive and is taking on the biggest names of the APW.
Next Day:
Stryker was on his way to Kentucky driving in his car when he realized one part of professional wrestling that he had completely overlooked. Cutting a promo. Stryker was never an on-camera type of guy. But, in the world of APW and the world of professional wrestling he’s going to have to get comfortable in front of the mic.
He thought about this for a few minutes longer while spacing out driving.
“Well, no better time than the present.” Give it a go.
“Warren Peace, you may be two sides of a coin and who knows if we’ll see the War side of you or the Peace side of you, but no matter who I see, I will certainly be ending it with aggressive negotiations. We’re clearly both looking to make a name for ourselves here in APW, Warren, but unfortunately for you, I’m prepared for this. I’ve been brawling my entire life, and Monday will be no different. I’ll be all over you every second of that match.
I’m “The Hitman” Steve Stryker, and there is a bounty out on your head Warren. I’m just here to cash it in.”
What a line, “Bounty on your head”. Who came up with that? Hulk Hogan?
This was going to be a long road to the top of APW, but for now, Stryker had to worry about the long road to Kentucky.
SMASH!
The window next to Steve Stryker’s head was broken open. Stryker jumped up from bed to peer out the window. No one was there, and no other noises were heard except from the traffic on the street. The sun felt good against Stryker’s face but his heart was still beating from the abrupt end to his dream about Kate Upton. He looked around the area of the broken window to see what caused such a disturbance. It didn’t take long for him to see the culprit. A rock about the size of his fist had come through the window. He picked it up to examine it. There was no markings, no name, no just cause. But in reality, Stryker already knew.
The Night Before:
Stryker hated this bar. He hated the people, he hated the bartenders, he hated the food, he hated everything about it. But of course, as inspires all adult male behavior, there was a girl. It’s always about the girl.
Stryker turned off his Moving Pictures album by Rush as he pulled up in front of “The Place”. What a douchy name. Stryker shut his car door and double checked that it was locked with his automatic starter. The familiar sound of a car beeping in Detroit was just another of a multitude of sounds in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, the loudest noise was from the bar, Ke$ha, Katy Perry, who really knows?
Luckily this time Stryker knew someone before he even made his way in. His friend Jim Cooper was working the door tonight. They used to work as bouncers together at the House of Blues down the street, Styker went on to work security at General Motors which was a far better job. He eventually left that job to start an MMA career. Always a good head on his shoulders. He and Jim had always gotten along before, tonight started no differently.
“Coops, what’s up?” Coops, what a ridiculous fucking name.
“Oh hey, hey, Mr. Stephen Stryker himself. Big man on campus slumming at The Place tonight?”
“Ah, the woman is meeting me here. Sometimes you gotta take one for the team.” Had she known she was being called “woman” Stryker wouldn’t have gotten laid for weeks.
“I feel ya man. Don’t worry about the cover, get in and get out man.” Well, at least there’s that.
Stryker shook hands with Jim Cooper and walked into the bar. Another man came up to him looking for the cover charge. Jim quickly turned and told the guy to fuck off and let Stryker in.
He started making his way through the bar, which, at 10:30pm, was no easy task. Fresh 21 year olds all over the place, guys standing in corners in big groups looking as tough as a cookie trying to loft out their scent for women to come flocking to them. Stryker had a feeling that the men would be on their own with this attitude. That, or they’d wait until last call and start picking up the scraps. Something that Stryker did in his college heydays, so he’s not one to really judge.
After examining the bar for a few minutes, Stryker realized he doesn’t have any common friends yet. He works his way through the line of people at the bar and orders a Bud Light. When did Bud Light become the big drink? When Stryker was in college it was always Budweiser, now kids called a regular old Bud a “Bud Heavy”, what a stupid name. He considered this fact for a few minutes longer while quickly polishing off his Bud Light.
Finally, he looked up, it was as if the crowd parted in the middle like the Red Sea. How fitting too that she’d be wearing a bright red dress. Just drop dead gorgeous, the type of beauty that men open doors even if she’s not going through them. The type of beauty that can leave a man literally breathless. Everyone has said it about their own girlfriends before that they’re “breath-taking” but normally it’s all platitudes. But, this girl, this girl was going to be the end of Stryker.
Her name was Bianca. Bianca De La Rosa. I mean, the name just flows so fluidly off the tongue. Oh god, can’t start thinking about her tongue. Bianca is 5’3”, an Olympic snowboarder in training. She was born in Mexico, but transplanted to Detroit when she turned 5 years old. So she has the slightest bit of an accent, but she’s a Detroit girl through and through.
Stryker made eye-contact with Bianca and as she smiled, his heart melted on the inside. What a feeling, truly made him weak in his knees.
“Hey stranger.” The Spanish accent came through on the “ger” sounded more like a “her”.
“Talk about a sight for sore eyes.” Clichéd hack.
“Thanks for coming down here, I know this isn’t normally your scene.”
“Well, that’s the understatement of the year.” As he responded he realized his surroundings even more and realized just how much he really cared for this woman.
Present:
Stryker swept up the glass and opened the door out to his yard and swept the shards out the door. Not a problem in the house now is it. When does he ever use the yard really?
He walked into the kitchen and grabbed some paper bags under the sink and a roll of duct tape from his junk drawer. This would be the quickest fix he thought. It’s warm enough, but who needs the bugs. Stryker created a window out of the paper bags and duct taped around the edges until it was a job that anyone describe as “good enough”.
Well, after last night, Stryker now needed a job, a girlfriend, and to get the hell out of Detroit. I guess really anyone should’ve seen it coming.
Last Night:
It was getting to be about 12:30am and Stryker had just enough of being at “The Place” he had quite a bit to drink and it was really time to get the hell out of there. Bianca was with her friends next to him, but not even really with them. Stryker ordered one last drink before he was going to tell Bianca it was time to go.
Before that though, he had to expel some of the alcohol from earlier in the urinal. He tells Bianca that he’ll be right back and makes his way through the crowd again.
Quick trip, no problems in there, which was good because as Stryker saw, there were problems at the bar. As normally happens, someone finds the balls to start talking to Bianca. The unfortunate part this time though was that this time the person was close to as big as Stryker was.
Stryker isn’t the biggest guy in the world, but he’s normally the biggest guy in the room at 6’3” and 285 pounds. But this fool trying to hang all over Bianca was close.
“Alright pal, move along.” Big time tough guy, Steve Stryker ladies and gentlemen.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Well that went as expected.
“She’s with me hot-shot, move along.”
“Well, why don’t we let the lady decide?” Flawless logic.
“I’ve already made the decision big boy, you’re done here.” Stryker starts turning on the intimidating boyfriend mojo.
“So you’re saying the nice lady here isn’t allowed to make a decision? Sounds like a real good relationship.” He turns back to Bianca. “If you want a real man sweetheart, find me before you leave.”
Well, that was all it really took for Stryker. He winds up knocks the poor guy to the ground with one punch.
“I told you, the decision was already made.”
The man had a tough time standing up, but it happened quickly enough. He went for a return punch but Stryker saw it coming and pushed it out of the way and drove his elbow into the man’s throat. The man grasped at his neck as the airflow was clearly restricted after a hit like that. Stryker was unfortunately done after that hit though as he felt four pairs of arms grab him and begin to drag him out.
Ok, so he was being thrown out, he had been thrown out before. Jim Cooper was on one side of him.
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Cooper screamed into his ear.
“Oh come on Coop, you must’ve seen it coming with me being here.”
“I don’t give a shit about that, do you know who you just beat the hell out of?”
Stryker had to rack his brain for a second. He certainly didn’t look familiar.
“What are you talking about?” Truly, no idea.
“That was Peter Fraz’s son!” Cooper let the words sink for a second.
Oh fuck. Peter Fraz is unfortunately the namesake of “Fraz’s Dungeon” Stryker’s home MMA fighting ring and his only sponsor. So, for all intents and purposed, Peter Fraz is Stryker’s boss.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? He didn’t even put up a fight!”
“He’s nothing like his old man, the only thing he got from his was his size and his mouth.”
Well, that’s a kick in the gut. Stryker was on his own now, out in the front of the bar. Bianca was following behind him. Thank God she wasn’t too pissed to leave him. She had before after he gets into bar fights. Which, is one of the main reasons he prefers to stay out of bars.
Stryker shook hands with Jim Cooper again and Cooper wished him luck. Stryker and Bianca walked to the car in silence and both entered. Stryker put his key in the ignition and roared up the engine of his 2009 Mustang. His big purchase after he was fired by General Motors. Guess it would’ve been better if he went with a Japanese made car, but figured Ford was good enough.
The two drove in silence for a bit longer before Bianca finally broke the silence.
“Why do you always have to do that?” Not a bad question.
“You know I’m over protective of you. I hate guys ogling you like that.”
“He made a good point about you not letting me make the decision.”
“Why? Were you going to pick him?”
“No, no, of course not, but wouldn’t have that been a bigger failure for him if I picked you right in front of him?” Good point.
Stryker didn’t have much to say after that.
Present:
Stryker began making breakfast and turned his TV on for background noise. He made himself a Denver Omelet that was cooked just perfectly. Such an odd talent for him to have.
As he finished cooking the omelet he walked over to the couch to take a seat. He checked on his TiVo for what had been recorded. He realized that he had a recording of Thursday Night Overdrive from Action Packed Wrestling. He switched it on and began to watch.
Last Night:
Stryker’s phone rang loudly in the silent car and he fumbled for it a bit before looking to see who was calling.
Peter Fraz, who would’ve though.
“Hi Peter, how are you?”
The voice coming from the other side of the phone was so loud that people driving on the other side of the hallway probably heard it.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, what the hell are you doing? If I ever find you I’m going to beat the ever living shit out of you. You better fucking go into hiding or I swear to God I will bury you six feet below my fucking building!” Eloquent.
Stryker hung up the phone. He knew it was only a matter of time before that phone call came in. Bianca looked at him with a very strange look. Stryker suddenly realized losing his job wasn’t the only issue he’s having tonight.
“What’s up B?” Smooth.
“What? Oh, nothing.” Denial!
“Oh come on B, I know when something is on your mind. This happens whenever I go to a bar, I know you’re upset, but there’s nothing that can be done now.”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s uh…”
“Spit it out B, you know you can tell me anything.”
“Well, I got a call from ESPN this morning.”
“Oh that’s great!”
“Well, yeah, but the thing is that I’m going to have to move to Burlington, Vermont for the next two years and commute between there and Montreal. They’re giving me a coach to work with before the next Olympics.”
Normally this would be an issue, but, Stryker just lost his job, they probably need security guards in Burlington too.
“That’s great sweetie, I can even come with you!”
“Well, yeah, that’s the thing. I don’t think you should.”
“What? Why not?”
“Uhm, there’s, just, there’s…”
Stryker screeched the car to a stop and pulled it over to the side of the road.
“There’s what B?”
Bianca burst into tears. “There’s someone else Steve.”
“You, you, you fucking bitch. Get out, get out of the damn car.”
“I only live a few miles away Steve, just bring me home.”
“Get. Out. Of. The. Fucking. Car.”
Bianca gets out of the car as Stryker speeds away.
Present:
Stryker finished his omelet and looked down at the rock that had gone through his window. So, it could’ve been Peter Fraz, his son, or even Bianca. But, the definite is that Stryker needed to get out of here.
He started to space out a bit looking at the television. As he watched the wresters on the screen he started to fantasize a bit. He could do that. Why doesn’t he just become a wrestler? That’d be perfect.
Good god. He did it. It’s a way out, it’s a job, and there are hot chicks around there all the time. He’d be just fine.
Three Hours Later:
“Mr. Rebel, thank you so much, yes, yes, please, that would be great. I’m so glad you saw my MMA bouts on YouTube, this is awesome.”
“Lexington, Kentucky? Yeah, I can get there by Sunday. No problem at all.”
“Warren Peace? Is that a real name?”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right. Uh, well, Steve Stryker is a pretty good name I think.”
“Yeah you’re right, I need an edge. Uh, how about, “The Hitman”?”
“Perfect, thanks again Mr. Rebel, I’ll see you this weekend!”
The Hitman? What a stupid nickname. Oh well, stuck with it now. Well, thank god for YouTube, who would’ve ever thought he’d get a chance with the best wrestling brand in North America. But, Lexington, Kentucky? Figured there would be maybe a better market than Kentucky. But, hey, keep on working, keep on working.
First match on Monday already, Stryker couldn’t believe it. Against Warren Peace? What an intriguing name. What kind of professional wrestler wants to promote “Peace” in their name. If anything you think they’d highlight the “War” part of the name. To each their own though.
What a great entrance into APW this will be though. First match on Monday Night Meltdown, Stryker will be able to prove himself immediately. No jitters when you’re the very first match. Only a matter of time before he works himself up to Thursday Night Overdrive and is taking on the biggest names of the APW.
Next Day:
Stryker was on his way to Kentucky driving in his car when he realized one part of professional wrestling that he had completely overlooked. Cutting a promo. Stryker was never an on-camera type of guy. But, in the world of APW and the world of professional wrestling he’s going to have to get comfortable in front of the mic.
He thought about this for a few minutes longer while spacing out driving.
“Well, no better time than the present.” Give it a go.
“Warren Peace, you may be two sides of a coin and who knows if we’ll see the War side of you or the Peace side of you, but no matter who I see, I will certainly be ending it with aggressive negotiations. We’re clearly both looking to make a name for ourselves here in APW, Warren, but unfortunately for you, I’m prepared for this. I’ve been brawling my entire life, and Monday will be no different. I’ll be all over you every second of that match.
I’m “The Hitman” Steve Stryker, and there is a bounty out on your head Warren. I’m just here to cash it in.”
What a line, “Bounty on your head”. Who came up with that? Hulk Hogan?
This was going to be a long road to the top of APW, but for now, Stryker had to worry about the long road to Kentucky.
