Post by The Paragon of Hardcore on Oct 12, 2008 23:21:24 GMT -4
*The pirated video feed of The Blackwells' Personal Cameraman, Emrys statics into life to show a rather pissed off King of Hardcore stalking down a back hallway of The Sun Arena in Mie Perfecture, Japan. One fist is clenched at his side, the tension running up his arm and into his shoulders. The other is wrapped tightly around his Singapore Cane, twisting into it until the wood splinters in his fingers. His jet black hair is tied back in a ponytail, leaving his face clear to show its hard lines and edges and third degree burns. Gone is the portable heart monitor. Gone are the soft casts. His famous ice blue eyes flash with rage, burning with an ineffectual hatred for a man that beat him at Aftershock no matter what it took. Matt Metal just kept coming. He just kept hitting our "hero" with everything he could. He stops outside a wooden door that reads, "APW Owner: President Jeff." And does he get his rematch with Metal at Overdrive? Does he get his chance for payback against the man that nearly killed him?
No...
He gets...
Trevor: DITA VON FUCKING AMORA???
*This is was the roar that escaped The Career Killer's lips as he kicked through the door in a fit of anger. He found our boss... The Failed Superhero... The Legendary Hurricane Jeff sitting at his desk... staring at his computer screen... his Hurri-Cock in his hand... jacking off to pictures of Level One... C'mon... I know its unrealistic... but he really has been jocking that guy lately. Jeff jumps and covers his little friend... more like a slight breeze then any sort of natural disaster. The APW Owner's face turns bright red as he starts to sputter and ask the obviously irate Excellence of Extreme just what the fuck he thinks he's doing barging into his office like this but Blackwell steamrolls right over him.*
Trevor: What the fuck is this bullshit???
*The President stammers and scurries to close out his internet connection.*
Jeff: I... It's not what you think... I was just researching talent and... and...
*The King of Hardcore would've laughed if he even realized what he'd just walked in on but he was nothing more then a freight train driven by emotion.*
Trevor: I mean seriously, Jeff! Dita Von Amora???
*The Career Killer starts to pace back and forth in front of the President's desk like a caged lion, never letting go of the tight grip he has on his Singapore Cane. The Former Superhero knows that look in his long-time adversary's eyes and hits the button underneath his desk that summons help.*
Trevor: Is this what you think I'm worth? A match with Dita Von Amora? The girl couldn't even beat Michael Lively for his belt. Are you pissed at her or something? Why would you put her in the ring with me? Did you see my match with Metal?
*President Jeff sits up in his chair, leaning over the desk and covering the bulge he was still sporting from looking at some loser from EWC.*
HJ: Its just an Overdrive, Trevor. You have a match with Dita Von Amora. Matt's not complaining about fighting Iggy...
*Trevor Blackwell suddenly wheels on his former boss and Jeff jumps despite himself. Everyone jumps a little when those ice blue eyes focus on them. From outside the President's office door, a loud commotion can be heard... bones snapping... fists hitting flesh... a thud against the wall...*
Trevor: Iggy has talent! Iggy is a champion. He may not be the Xtreme Heavyweight Champion that I was. He may not be the Xtremist that Tony was. But he's better then Dita. And he's higher up on the card then I am!
*Jeff looks up at him, unable to help the hurting comment that's really just stating the obvious. His eyes flick towards the door though.*
HJ: Well, he did beat you at Aftershock...
*The King of Hardcore swings his Singapore Cane at the Boss. Jeff shows off that Hurricane like reaction timing and narrowly ducks the shot. Do you have any clue how many times Trevor Blackwell has taken a swing a President Jeff? He's used to it by know. He also remembers what that Singapore Cane feels like well enough to know to move out of the way.*
Trevor: THAT WAS A FUCKING FLUKE!!!
*The Hardcore Icon visibly composes himself and HJ frantically presses the button a few more times.*
Trevor: Did you see that match? Did you see what we put each other through? Did you see what I put my body through just to sell your tickets and push your PPV buy rates and make sure every damn member of MY APW Faithful went home with their money's worth? And how do you show your appreciation??? By setting me up in a match with Dita Von Amora! You're an arrogant prick, Jeff... and an all around piece of shit...
*President Jeff smiles again... a bit uneasy this time as more noises can be heard from outside... cries of pain... shouting swear words... the unmistakable smack of a Singapore Cane hitting someone in the face.*
HJ: And yet I'm the man who signs your payroll paperwork... Now shut the fuck up and get ready for your match. You need me at least as much as I need you. Now go.
*Trevor Blackwell's face brightens with a sick smile as he turns towards the door.*
Trevor: You and I will meet in the ring again one day, Superhero. And then we'll see who the true talent is around here...
*Jeff smiles as Trevor opens the door.*
HJ: And don't let the doorknob hit you where the good lord split you, Trevor.
*"The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell slams President Jeff's office door behind him as he steps out into the backstage corridor. Emrys's camera shot pans out a bit to show the entire area. Half a dozen Security Guards are slumped against walls and otherwise strewn about the scene. Blood smears a wall next to his 9 yr old daughter's head. "That Icon" Skylar Blackwell holds a full sized Singapore Cane. Aunt Kristina calls it "Big Girl Sized"... and its stained with more of that blood... further examination would no doubt show that it belonged to one of the men currently comatose in her vicinity. Her aforementioned Aunt stands beside her and regards her big brother with cold eyes that match those of Trevor and Skylar. The Hardcore Princess puts an approving arm around her niece. The little girl smiles proudly up at the King of Hardcore.*
Skylar: I took two of these guys down all my myself, Daddy. I used that spin move that Aunt Kalayla taught me and whacked him right in the knees.
*The Career Killer smiles and eclipses one of her small hands in a much larger one of his.*
Trevor: That's my girl...
*Kristina Blackwell shakes her head as she starts to follow her family down the hallway.*
Kristina: Y'know, Trev... you're lucky you had us here to watch your back. Are you done throwing your temper tantrum? You do still have a match with Dita Von Amora whether you like it or not. If you're not going to go out to the ring and cut a promo, you should at least cut one with Emrys here. That is why he still collects a paycheck from us y'know...
*The Excellence of Extreme glances towards Emrys and the camera man shrinks back a bit from his employer's gaze. He's been working for The Blackwells and has worked in the past with the likes of Fyre Angel and Kenny Lambardo and Sabur and Spirit and still Trevor Blackwell scares the shit out of him. Fear is good though. It keeps you alive... and employed. The King of Hardcore speaks through clenched teeth and Emrys has to take a deep breath and center himself in order to keep his hands from shaking.*
Trevor: Fine... Dita Von Amora... What can I say... I've noticed that we haven't heard a word from you or seen you since your loss to Michael Lively at Aftershock. And I have to say that really may be your best course of action at this point. It really may just be a good idea for you to be a good girl and keep your mouth shut... because I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... you have a match with me, "The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell this Monday at Overdrive. I know. I know. But it could always be worse. Count yourself lucky that President Jeff wasn't mean enough to make this match No DQ. Because I have to tell you, unlike Jason Ricochet and some of the other guys around here, I have no problem with breaking you in half with a Full Throttle. I don't give two shits if you're a woman, a man, a monkey, or an iguana. Once you're between those ropes all I see is another victim. All I see is another warm up before I get my rematch against Matt Metal. You're a jobber. You're someone just put into this match to showcase my talent and make me look better. Back in the day they would've called you an Enhancement Wrestler. You're in this match to enhance my image of being the most Hardcore Motherfucker on the Planet and look really good in losing to me. This is a squash match pure and simple. This is President Jeff giving me an easy match for my first match back after that bloodbath I went through at Aftershock.
*Skylar glanced up at her Daddy when he said "motherfucker" but has already gone back to watching him with amazement.*
Trevor: I've watched you when I was bored over the last month since I've been back in APW. And I'm seriously not impressed. First of all, you seriously need to lose this whole Dominatrix gimmick. You're really bad at it. Take this from someone who used to have a real Dominant/submissive relationship with a girl named Fallen Angel back when I worked for CWF. I don't know where you got the idea of what a Mistress is supposed to be like but you're doing it all wrong. If you learned it from someone else who claims to be a Master, he obviously wasn't a very good one. You treat your "slave" like a pet and he never looks like he's actually enjoying himself. "I'll punish you later..." What kind of pansy assed bullshit is that? But I understand. You're just doing this for a gimmick. Its cute. But don't quit your night job. And at Aftershock I'll show you the flip side of the coin. I'll show you what a sub is supposed to feel like. I'll dominate you and give you a taste of true, delicious pain. I'm sure you'll enjoy it more then your "slave" does. Maybe I'll help you unlock a whole new gimmick. Anything's gotta be better then this one. I mean, did you see Aftershock? Do you realize what you're getting yourself into with this match? Yeah, I lost to Matt Metal but did you see what it took to take me down? I was electrocuted. I was burned half to death with hot oil. I was hit with a car. I was DDT'd on solid concrete. AND I KEPT COMING. Trust me, beneath all of his ego, Matt Metal will never be the same after that match. And let me tell you, Dita, you sure as hell are no Matt Metal. You don't stand a chance in hell against me. And I still stand by the fact that I refuse to show pity and take it easy on you this Monday. I'm going to use you for precisely the job you were meant for. You're going to be a warm up. You're going to keep me fresh and help me shake off any lingering effects from Aftershock. You're going to be proof that the Street Fight didn't do a damn thing to curb my momentum. Its a shame. One day you'll be able to look back on all this and understand that you very well may have had a rather promising future as a career midcarder had you not fallen upon the misfortune of being matched up against "The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell.
*He looks at Emrys behind the camera, a smirk playing across his lips.*
Trevor: What? I'm done. What the hell are you still rolling for?
*The Blackwells' Personal Cameraman jumps and turns bright red as he shuts the video feed, Trevor's voice still playing as the scene fades out.*
Trevor: Can we go get something to eat now?
No...
He gets...
Trevor: DITA VON FUCKING AMORA???
*This is was the roar that escaped The Career Killer's lips as he kicked through the door in a fit of anger. He found our boss... The Failed Superhero... The Legendary Hurricane Jeff sitting at his desk... staring at his computer screen... his Hurri-Cock in his hand... jacking off to pictures of Level One... C'mon... I know its unrealistic... but he really has been jocking that guy lately. Jeff jumps and covers his little friend... more like a slight breeze then any sort of natural disaster. The APW Owner's face turns bright red as he starts to sputter and ask the obviously irate Excellence of Extreme just what the fuck he thinks he's doing barging into his office like this but Blackwell steamrolls right over him.*
Trevor: What the fuck is this bullshit???
*The President stammers and scurries to close out his internet connection.*
Jeff: I... It's not what you think... I was just researching talent and... and...
*The King of Hardcore would've laughed if he even realized what he'd just walked in on but he was nothing more then a freight train driven by emotion.*
Trevor: I mean seriously, Jeff! Dita Von Amora???
*The Career Killer starts to pace back and forth in front of the President's desk like a caged lion, never letting go of the tight grip he has on his Singapore Cane. The Former Superhero knows that look in his long-time adversary's eyes and hits the button underneath his desk that summons help.*
Trevor: Is this what you think I'm worth? A match with Dita Von Amora? The girl couldn't even beat Michael Lively for his belt. Are you pissed at her or something? Why would you put her in the ring with me? Did you see my match with Metal?
*President Jeff sits up in his chair, leaning over the desk and covering the bulge he was still sporting from looking at some loser from EWC.*
HJ: Its just an Overdrive, Trevor. You have a match with Dita Von Amora. Matt's not complaining about fighting Iggy...
*Trevor Blackwell suddenly wheels on his former boss and Jeff jumps despite himself. Everyone jumps a little when those ice blue eyes focus on them. From outside the President's office door, a loud commotion can be heard... bones snapping... fists hitting flesh... a thud against the wall...*
Trevor: Iggy has talent! Iggy is a champion. He may not be the Xtreme Heavyweight Champion that I was. He may not be the Xtremist that Tony was. But he's better then Dita. And he's higher up on the card then I am!
*Jeff looks up at him, unable to help the hurting comment that's really just stating the obvious. His eyes flick towards the door though.*
HJ: Well, he did beat you at Aftershock...
*The King of Hardcore swings his Singapore Cane at the Boss. Jeff shows off that Hurricane like reaction timing and narrowly ducks the shot. Do you have any clue how many times Trevor Blackwell has taken a swing a President Jeff? He's used to it by know. He also remembers what that Singapore Cane feels like well enough to know to move out of the way.*
Trevor: THAT WAS A FUCKING FLUKE!!!
*The Hardcore Icon visibly composes himself and HJ frantically presses the button a few more times.*
Trevor: Did you see that match? Did you see what we put each other through? Did you see what I put my body through just to sell your tickets and push your PPV buy rates and make sure every damn member of MY APW Faithful went home with their money's worth? And how do you show your appreciation??? By setting me up in a match with Dita Von Amora! You're an arrogant prick, Jeff... and an all around piece of shit...
*President Jeff smiles again... a bit uneasy this time as more noises can be heard from outside... cries of pain... shouting swear words... the unmistakable smack of a Singapore Cane hitting someone in the face.*
HJ: And yet I'm the man who signs your payroll paperwork... Now shut the fuck up and get ready for your match. You need me at least as much as I need you. Now go.
*Trevor Blackwell's face brightens with a sick smile as he turns towards the door.*
Trevor: You and I will meet in the ring again one day, Superhero. And then we'll see who the true talent is around here...
*Jeff smiles as Trevor opens the door.*
HJ: And don't let the doorknob hit you where the good lord split you, Trevor.
*"The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell slams President Jeff's office door behind him as he steps out into the backstage corridor. Emrys's camera shot pans out a bit to show the entire area. Half a dozen Security Guards are slumped against walls and otherwise strewn about the scene. Blood smears a wall next to his 9 yr old daughter's head. "That Icon" Skylar Blackwell holds a full sized Singapore Cane. Aunt Kristina calls it "Big Girl Sized"... and its stained with more of that blood... further examination would no doubt show that it belonged to one of the men currently comatose in her vicinity. Her aforementioned Aunt stands beside her and regards her big brother with cold eyes that match those of Trevor and Skylar. The Hardcore Princess puts an approving arm around her niece. The little girl smiles proudly up at the King of Hardcore.*
Skylar: I took two of these guys down all my myself, Daddy. I used that spin move that Aunt Kalayla taught me and whacked him right in the knees.
*The Career Killer smiles and eclipses one of her small hands in a much larger one of his.*
Trevor: That's my girl...
*Kristina Blackwell shakes her head as she starts to follow her family down the hallway.*
Kristina: Y'know, Trev... you're lucky you had us here to watch your back. Are you done throwing your temper tantrum? You do still have a match with Dita Von Amora whether you like it or not. If you're not going to go out to the ring and cut a promo, you should at least cut one with Emrys here. That is why he still collects a paycheck from us y'know...
*The Excellence of Extreme glances towards Emrys and the camera man shrinks back a bit from his employer's gaze. He's been working for The Blackwells and has worked in the past with the likes of Fyre Angel and Kenny Lambardo and Sabur and Spirit and still Trevor Blackwell scares the shit out of him. Fear is good though. It keeps you alive... and employed. The King of Hardcore speaks through clenched teeth and Emrys has to take a deep breath and center himself in order to keep his hands from shaking.*
Trevor: Fine... Dita Von Amora... What can I say... I've noticed that we haven't heard a word from you or seen you since your loss to Michael Lively at Aftershock. And I have to say that really may be your best course of action at this point. It really may just be a good idea for you to be a good girl and keep your mouth shut... because I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... you have a match with me, "The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell this Monday at Overdrive. I know. I know. But it could always be worse. Count yourself lucky that President Jeff wasn't mean enough to make this match No DQ. Because I have to tell you, unlike Jason Ricochet and some of the other guys around here, I have no problem with breaking you in half with a Full Throttle. I don't give two shits if you're a woman, a man, a monkey, or an iguana. Once you're between those ropes all I see is another victim. All I see is another warm up before I get my rematch against Matt Metal. You're a jobber. You're someone just put into this match to showcase my talent and make me look better. Back in the day they would've called you an Enhancement Wrestler. You're in this match to enhance my image of being the most Hardcore Motherfucker on the Planet and look really good in losing to me. This is a squash match pure and simple. This is President Jeff giving me an easy match for my first match back after that bloodbath I went through at Aftershock.
*Skylar glanced up at her Daddy when he said "motherfucker" but has already gone back to watching him with amazement.*
Trevor: I've watched you when I was bored over the last month since I've been back in APW. And I'm seriously not impressed. First of all, you seriously need to lose this whole Dominatrix gimmick. You're really bad at it. Take this from someone who used to have a real Dominant/submissive relationship with a girl named Fallen Angel back when I worked for CWF. I don't know where you got the idea of what a Mistress is supposed to be like but you're doing it all wrong. If you learned it from someone else who claims to be a Master, he obviously wasn't a very good one. You treat your "slave" like a pet and he never looks like he's actually enjoying himself. "I'll punish you later..." What kind of pansy assed bullshit is that? But I understand. You're just doing this for a gimmick. Its cute. But don't quit your night job. And at Aftershock I'll show you the flip side of the coin. I'll show you what a sub is supposed to feel like. I'll dominate you and give you a taste of true, delicious pain. I'm sure you'll enjoy it more then your "slave" does. Maybe I'll help you unlock a whole new gimmick. Anything's gotta be better then this one. I mean, did you see Aftershock? Do you realize what you're getting yourself into with this match? Yeah, I lost to Matt Metal but did you see what it took to take me down? I was electrocuted. I was burned half to death with hot oil. I was hit with a car. I was DDT'd on solid concrete. AND I KEPT COMING. Trust me, beneath all of his ego, Matt Metal will never be the same after that match. And let me tell you, Dita, you sure as hell are no Matt Metal. You don't stand a chance in hell against me. And I still stand by the fact that I refuse to show pity and take it easy on you this Monday. I'm going to use you for precisely the job you were meant for. You're going to be a warm up. You're going to keep me fresh and help me shake off any lingering effects from Aftershock. You're going to be proof that the Street Fight didn't do a damn thing to curb my momentum. Its a shame. One day you'll be able to look back on all this and understand that you very well may have had a rather promising future as a career midcarder had you not fallen upon the misfortune of being matched up against "The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell.
*He looks at Emrys behind the camera, a smirk playing across his lips.*
Trevor: What? I'm done. What the hell are you still rolling for?
*The Blackwells' Personal Cameraman jumps and turns bright red as he shuts the video feed, Trevor's voice still playing as the scene fades out.*
Trevor: Can we go get something to eat now?
