Post by Reaver on Nov 18, 2012 22:50:56 GMT -4
When the boy was born.......like all New Yorkers, he was inspected. If he had been small or puny or sickly or misshapen, he would have been discarded.
Flashes of light flicker throughout the small apartment in the Bronx. Lightning crashing through the night sky in anger before fading to black.
From the time he could stand, he was baptized in the fire of combat.
A small child pushed out onto the streets. Scenes glancing forward as he rummages through trash cans for food only to get into fights with homeless people over it. Clawing and scrapping to survive. Beaten and broken down, covered in filth and blood; only to get back up again.
.....taught never to retreat, never to surrender. Taught that death on the battlefield is service to “the family” and was the greatest glory he could ever achieve in life. Since the age of 6 when he was kicked out, he was plunged into a world of violence. Manufactured by hundreds of years of Italian society to create the greatest men the world has ever known.
The small child is seen on top of another; bashing his face in with his fists; blow after blow with more blood spilling. He stands tall, fists drawn and teeth snarled. Face battered and numb, bruised and scarred.
The Agoge, as it's called, forces the boy to fight. Starves them, forces them to steal.....and if necessary, to kill to survive.
The child, a little older, is bound and forced punishment while wrapped around a pillar. Forced to take beating after beating merely as a means to justify the end.
By rod and lash, the boy was punished. Taught to show no pain, no mercy. Constantly tested and tossed into the wild........Left to pit his wits and will against nature's fury.
He continues to roam around the city streets; looking for his next meal and perhaps his next shelter for the night.
It was his initiation......his time in the wild....for he would return to “his family” as a champion....or not at all.
The young man is confronted by men with guns who appear out of the shadows of the alley. They begin to circle the boy; pointing their steel at him. Their trench coats as dark as night, eyes glowing from the reflection of the streetlights as if to be jewels from the pits of hell.
They tease the boy, taunting him, savoring the victim to come. It's not fear that grips the boy, only a heightened sense of awareness as the cold air passes in and out of his lungs from the night sky.
His hands remain steady. His form.......not so perfect. Flashes of light illuminating the alley as the sounds echo off the brick. Bodies fall.....they missed. The fade to black is temporary as it returns and he walks into the warehouse, bloody, and bruised, hands filled with the spoils of looted bodies.
And so the boy, given up for dead.....returns to “his family” a champion, OUR CHAMPION! JOHNNY KNUCKLES!!
It's been more than 20 years since the thugs and the winter cold. And now, as then, a beast approaches. Patient and confident, savoring the meal to come. But this beast is made of gold and reputation. An army of slaves, vast beyond imagining, ready to follow him and entice his ego that much more. Ready at a moments notice to make him stronger with every word. Ready to snuff out APW's one hope for reason and justice.
….and it was Johnny Knuckles himself who provoked him.
The scene cuts forward to Asylum, after One Night In Hell. Jason Kash vs Chris Strike where Johnny Knuckles attacks Strike but nails Kash costing him the victory and the Suicidal Championship. The scene flips over to Knuckles inside an empty ring at the KFC YUM Center in Louisville, KT. No lights, no music, no fans roaring the roof off. Just him, a camera, and a spotlight dead center.
Knuckles: This is it. The more work I put in, the more I sweat here, the less I bleed in the ring later. Contrary to belief. Over the years I've learned that fear is a constant. But by accepting it, I become stronger. My true strength is the warrior inside, by honoring the people I serve with respect then it will return back to me. I serve under no god, but under the people itself. The same people I've spent day after day to entertain for the past three years under the APW banner. This is where my respect goes.
I do not fear you Strike. I accept the beatings and look forward to the challenge. While you look at me with disgust and animosity, I send it right back because with all the punishment I've received over the years, I grow stronger. The strength that not even a “god” could achieve. And while Chris Hemsworth begs to have his gimmick back, you stand in awe of me. How long did you look on at APW looking to pick a spot? You watched as I crawled my way to secure my spot only for you to swoop in and snatch it from me like a vulture. You fancy yourself a “god” but have shown to be nothing more than a coward in sheep's clothing.
I see right through your bullshit Strike. You do for you because you know nothing else. You may have Jeff and Reginald fooled, you may have the fans fooled......but not me. You spent a lot of time preparing to take away from me which I have worked so hard for. Some might say you were malicious in your approach knowing that there would be almost no time to prepare for the likes of you but I say otherwise. Maybe I just ended up at the right place at the right time for you to make your impact. How does it feel to steal the thunder away from a mere man? To have your own reputation here in APW as “The God Of Thunder” knowing that the fans watched you steal mine? It's actions like this that prove that you are indeed what I say you are......a fraud.
You are nothing more than a thief who stole my rights and now blame me for taking them back. I do what I have to in order to survive and you are no different. You blocked my path only to watch me build my way around it. I've made lots of lemonade since I've been here in APW and the likes of you will not be my downfall. I have put down kings and “gods” all the same, just go ask Alioth Starre at the unemployment line just how he got there. You may see my actions as madness, but this isn't SCW, this is APW......THIS IS ASYLUM!! (ha Kash
)
Images of past battles are showcased from TCW. Battle after grueling battle, match after brutal match, the trials and tribulations of success and failure. With each passing, he grows stronger in will, mind, and body. A tradition of violence, a tradition in which not even Knuckles could defy. Violence is law. And no wrestler or owner, man or woman, contender or champion is above the law.
There is no room for weakness in this business. Only the hard and strong may call themselves champion......only the hard.....only the strong. We fight for our people, for our families......for our freedoms.
A man is seen learning techniques to protect himself against other styles of combat. An iron will can only get you so far. You must fight with your head first, then with your heart. He is constantly pushed to his limits and broken down. He is defeated at the hands of his own inexperience. The images of his constant defeats are used as fuel to push forward towards a victory. The anger, the hatred, the rush.....all desires that feed his hunger to succeed.
No sleep tonight, not for him. All of his years in the business have been a straight road to this one gleaming moment in history. This one radiant clash of titans.....his only regret, is that he can only sacrifice himself so much.
The boy, now a full grown man, constantly fighting to survive. Loss after loss, strength growing with every battle.....a title finally around his waist. His blood spilled has become worth the trials and dedication. Closed doors make for empty champions.
To the ring he marches. Through the narrow corridors he marches, where the great numbers of the people, won't account for anything. Wrestlers, champions, contenders, owners....we march. Brothers, fathers, sons....into hell's mouth, we march.
For honor, for duty, for glory....he pushes forward to be somebody. His entire career has been about becoming a better fighter, a better person. Trying to grow, to learn. Without adaptation, there is no success. Without sacrifice, there is no victory. From company to company he travels, honing his skills to match up and defend against. His failures become greater as does his strength of mind and body.
Freedom comes at the cost of blood. His freedom, lost at he hands of a would be “god”. He saw but a fraction of the monster that is known as Chris Strike. He smiles. He has fought countless times, but has yet to face anybody that would give him, what champions call, “a beautiful end”. He could only hope that this self proclaimed “god”, with all of the worlds fans gathered against him, Strike would be up to the task.
He must make the “god” pay for his barbarism. His reputation is not his anymore for he faces free men in APW. Knuckles knows this to be true and stands ready inside the empty ring. Mentally preparing for his toughest face to face challenge to date. The single overhead light goes out which sends chills up his spine but a smile on his face. He knows that he will fight no matter what, even in the shade. Soon; the battle will ensue and the fight for dominance will be at hand.
Knuckles: This is where the people will hold you, where we fight and your reputation dies. They will remember this day for it will be theirs for all time. My gift to them. You want what I have Strike? Come and get it! I will give nothing to you but take from you, everything! No prisoners, no mercy.
In the presence of some false “god”, in the face of annihilation, I stand here defiant. I tried to reason with you because it would be a regrettable waste if I didn't try. There's so much culture and expertise we could share one another but in case you haven't noticed, I've shared my culture all over your face for weeks now. Whether it be the blood, or the nonsensical humor I've had at your expense. Now that I've made you a champion, the world can see how you never earned it. And the title I hold near and dear to me is worth countless times more than anything YOU could do with it. The title doesn't make the man, the man makes the title. Even a so called, “god” would know such a thing.
You and your reputation don't scare me. I dare you, if you can, end my career. Face me like a god and fall like a man. Give me that opportunity to show the people who paid their hard earned money to watch me beat down a new champion. I dare you to fight back and watch as everything you and your reputation has to offer, fails under the weight of your own success. By this, you will be known as a generous “god”, only a madman would refuse.
For all of the successes in your life, none of them have ever been greater than anything you may achieve here in APW. This is THE premier organization to be in. It's no wonder that you came to stand toe to toe against the best but you made a foolish mistake in fucking over......a has been? A never was right? You choose to face an absolute nobody instead of taking on the top talent because you know damn well that they would destroy your reputation, your “skills” the very first night. That's why you stalked me. You targeted me knowing that you would succeed without realizing the backlash it would entail.
You will never know the hell I had go trudge through to get to where I am. For all of the honor you claim to have, you sure threw it out the window the very second you choose to step over our best to cheat me. You sealed your fate and I will make you suffer for your sins. My obsession, my animosity, my pride.....will be your pain and suffering.
I refuse to kneel to the likes of you Chris. The thought of being able to slaughter your APW career has left a nasty cramp in my leg. There WILL be glory in my sacrifice because the people will know that a free man stood up against a tyrant. They will see; before the fight is over.......
…...that even a GOD can bleed.
Flashes of light flicker throughout the small apartment in the Bronx. Lightning crashing through the night sky in anger before fading to black.
From the time he could stand, he was baptized in the fire of combat.
A small child pushed out onto the streets. Scenes glancing forward as he rummages through trash cans for food only to get into fights with homeless people over it. Clawing and scrapping to survive. Beaten and broken down, covered in filth and blood; only to get back up again.
.....taught never to retreat, never to surrender. Taught that death on the battlefield is service to “the family” and was the greatest glory he could ever achieve in life. Since the age of 6 when he was kicked out, he was plunged into a world of violence. Manufactured by hundreds of years of Italian society to create the greatest men the world has ever known.
The small child is seen on top of another; bashing his face in with his fists; blow after blow with more blood spilling. He stands tall, fists drawn and teeth snarled. Face battered and numb, bruised and scarred.
The Agoge, as it's called, forces the boy to fight. Starves them, forces them to steal.....and if necessary, to kill to survive.
The child, a little older, is bound and forced punishment while wrapped around a pillar. Forced to take beating after beating merely as a means to justify the end.
By rod and lash, the boy was punished. Taught to show no pain, no mercy. Constantly tested and tossed into the wild........Left to pit his wits and will against nature's fury.
He continues to roam around the city streets; looking for his next meal and perhaps his next shelter for the night.
It was his initiation......his time in the wild....for he would return to “his family” as a champion....or not at all.
The young man is confronted by men with guns who appear out of the shadows of the alley. They begin to circle the boy; pointing their steel at him. Their trench coats as dark as night, eyes glowing from the reflection of the streetlights as if to be jewels from the pits of hell.
They tease the boy, taunting him, savoring the victim to come. It's not fear that grips the boy, only a heightened sense of awareness as the cold air passes in and out of his lungs from the night sky.
His hands remain steady. His form.......not so perfect. Flashes of light illuminating the alley as the sounds echo off the brick. Bodies fall.....they missed. The fade to black is temporary as it returns and he walks into the warehouse, bloody, and bruised, hands filled with the spoils of looted bodies.
And so the boy, given up for dead.....returns to “his family” a champion, OUR CHAMPION! JOHNNY KNUCKLES!!
It's been more than 20 years since the thugs and the winter cold. And now, as then, a beast approaches. Patient and confident, savoring the meal to come. But this beast is made of gold and reputation. An army of slaves, vast beyond imagining, ready to follow him and entice his ego that much more. Ready at a moments notice to make him stronger with every word. Ready to snuff out APW's one hope for reason and justice.
….and it was Johnny Knuckles himself who provoked him.
The scene cuts forward to Asylum, after One Night In Hell. Jason Kash vs Chris Strike where Johnny Knuckles attacks Strike but nails Kash costing him the victory and the Suicidal Championship. The scene flips over to Knuckles inside an empty ring at the KFC YUM Center in Louisville, KT. No lights, no music, no fans roaring the roof off. Just him, a camera, and a spotlight dead center.
Knuckles: This is it. The more work I put in, the more I sweat here, the less I bleed in the ring later. Contrary to belief. Over the years I've learned that fear is a constant. But by accepting it, I become stronger. My true strength is the warrior inside, by honoring the people I serve with respect then it will return back to me. I serve under no god, but under the people itself. The same people I've spent day after day to entertain for the past three years under the APW banner. This is where my respect goes.
I do not fear you Strike. I accept the beatings and look forward to the challenge. While you look at me with disgust and animosity, I send it right back because with all the punishment I've received over the years, I grow stronger. The strength that not even a “god” could achieve. And while Chris Hemsworth begs to have his gimmick back, you stand in awe of me. How long did you look on at APW looking to pick a spot? You watched as I crawled my way to secure my spot only for you to swoop in and snatch it from me like a vulture. You fancy yourself a “god” but have shown to be nothing more than a coward in sheep's clothing.
I see right through your bullshit Strike. You do for you because you know nothing else. You may have Jeff and Reginald fooled, you may have the fans fooled......but not me. You spent a lot of time preparing to take away from me which I have worked so hard for. Some might say you were malicious in your approach knowing that there would be almost no time to prepare for the likes of you but I say otherwise. Maybe I just ended up at the right place at the right time for you to make your impact. How does it feel to steal the thunder away from a mere man? To have your own reputation here in APW as “The God Of Thunder” knowing that the fans watched you steal mine? It's actions like this that prove that you are indeed what I say you are......a fraud.
You are nothing more than a thief who stole my rights and now blame me for taking them back. I do what I have to in order to survive and you are no different. You blocked my path only to watch me build my way around it. I've made lots of lemonade since I've been here in APW and the likes of you will not be my downfall. I have put down kings and “gods” all the same, just go ask Alioth Starre at the unemployment line just how he got there. You may see my actions as madness, but this isn't SCW, this is APW......THIS IS ASYLUM!! (ha Kash
) Images of past battles are showcased from TCW. Battle after grueling battle, match after brutal match, the trials and tribulations of success and failure. With each passing, he grows stronger in will, mind, and body. A tradition of violence, a tradition in which not even Knuckles could defy. Violence is law. And no wrestler or owner, man or woman, contender or champion is above the law.
There is no room for weakness in this business. Only the hard and strong may call themselves champion......only the hard.....only the strong. We fight for our people, for our families......for our freedoms.
A man is seen learning techniques to protect himself against other styles of combat. An iron will can only get you so far. You must fight with your head first, then with your heart. He is constantly pushed to his limits and broken down. He is defeated at the hands of his own inexperience. The images of his constant defeats are used as fuel to push forward towards a victory. The anger, the hatred, the rush.....all desires that feed his hunger to succeed.
No sleep tonight, not for him. All of his years in the business have been a straight road to this one gleaming moment in history. This one radiant clash of titans.....his only regret, is that he can only sacrifice himself so much.
The boy, now a full grown man, constantly fighting to survive. Loss after loss, strength growing with every battle.....a title finally around his waist. His blood spilled has become worth the trials and dedication. Closed doors make for empty champions.
To the ring he marches. Through the narrow corridors he marches, where the great numbers of the people, won't account for anything. Wrestlers, champions, contenders, owners....we march. Brothers, fathers, sons....into hell's mouth, we march.
For honor, for duty, for glory....he pushes forward to be somebody. His entire career has been about becoming a better fighter, a better person. Trying to grow, to learn. Without adaptation, there is no success. Without sacrifice, there is no victory. From company to company he travels, honing his skills to match up and defend against. His failures become greater as does his strength of mind and body.
Freedom comes at the cost of blood. His freedom, lost at he hands of a would be “god”. He saw but a fraction of the monster that is known as Chris Strike. He smiles. He has fought countless times, but has yet to face anybody that would give him, what champions call, “a beautiful end”. He could only hope that this self proclaimed “god”, with all of the worlds fans gathered against him, Strike would be up to the task.
He must make the “god” pay for his barbarism. His reputation is not his anymore for he faces free men in APW. Knuckles knows this to be true and stands ready inside the empty ring. Mentally preparing for his toughest face to face challenge to date. The single overhead light goes out which sends chills up his spine but a smile on his face. He knows that he will fight no matter what, even in the shade. Soon; the battle will ensue and the fight for dominance will be at hand.
Knuckles: This is where the people will hold you, where we fight and your reputation dies. They will remember this day for it will be theirs for all time. My gift to them. You want what I have Strike? Come and get it! I will give nothing to you but take from you, everything! No prisoners, no mercy.
In the presence of some false “god”, in the face of annihilation, I stand here defiant. I tried to reason with you because it would be a regrettable waste if I didn't try. There's so much culture and expertise we could share one another but in case you haven't noticed, I've shared my culture all over your face for weeks now. Whether it be the blood, or the nonsensical humor I've had at your expense. Now that I've made you a champion, the world can see how you never earned it. And the title I hold near and dear to me is worth countless times more than anything YOU could do with it. The title doesn't make the man, the man makes the title. Even a so called, “god” would know such a thing.
You and your reputation don't scare me. I dare you, if you can, end my career. Face me like a god and fall like a man. Give me that opportunity to show the people who paid their hard earned money to watch me beat down a new champion. I dare you to fight back and watch as everything you and your reputation has to offer, fails under the weight of your own success. By this, you will be known as a generous “god”, only a madman would refuse.
For all of the successes in your life, none of them have ever been greater than anything you may achieve here in APW. This is THE premier organization to be in. It's no wonder that you came to stand toe to toe against the best but you made a foolish mistake in fucking over......a has been? A never was right? You choose to face an absolute nobody instead of taking on the top talent because you know damn well that they would destroy your reputation, your “skills” the very first night. That's why you stalked me. You targeted me knowing that you would succeed without realizing the backlash it would entail.
You will never know the hell I had go trudge through to get to where I am. For all of the honor you claim to have, you sure threw it out the window the very second you choose to step over our best to cheat me. You sealed your fate and I will make you suffer for your sins. My obsession, my animosity, my pride.....will be your pain and suffering.
I refuse to kneel to the likes of you Chris. The thought of being able to slaughter your APW career has left a nasty cramp in my leg. There WILL be glory in my sacrifice because the people will know that a free man stood up against a tyrant. They will see; before the fight is over.......
…...that even a GOD can bleed.
