Post by Nick Watson on Oct 14, 2009 20:49:53 GMT -4
*Moscow, Russia*
**Three Days Ago**
The streets of Moscow's suburbs seem almost empty, a couple of lone light posts stand on the sidewalks around the road, casting light down on the empty roads, it is clearly a late hour in the night as the moon is almost in the middle of its' night time path. A loud noise is heard from behind a Jewelery shop as two men come out of the alleyway. One looks rather wasted and the other completely sober, the sober one has the drunken one leaning on him for support as they make their way down the road. The light from the lamp post reveals Pence Weatherlight as the sober one, he is wearing an over shirt with a jacket thrown over it, a pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. The other man who is not familiar, is wearing a similar setup, except that this man has stain spots from the alcohol he has clearly been consuming, and of course one sleeve of his jacket is ripped off.
Pence: I tried to help you man, but you fell pretty hard against that dumpster, are you sure you are alright?
Man: Clearly I ain't! I am wasted, I lost my job, and I think my wife is leaving me.
Pence: You don't have a wife, Miles.
Miles: Wait! She already left! Man, I need another beer!
Pence: I think you have had your fair share of the broosky, let me get you home before you do something stupid.
As if on que, Miles decided to vomit all over Pence's nikes. Pence sighed and grumbled before continuing on his way, trying his best to ignore the smell of the vomit that was on his shoes. He then realised he had no clue where his long time friend Miles lived. Miles had been his friend since he had first came to Russia over ten years ago, Miles had saved his skin twice during that trip, once from the Russian mob which clearly had some power here in Russia, and the second time from his mark which had hired an assortment of other hitmen to guard him. Miles who had once been an illegal arms dealer shipping to America guns that were not supposed to be in the hands of thugs was now nothing more than a drunken cleaner.
Pence: Man, how the times have changed for the both of us.
Pence remembered when Miles had told him he planned on becoming legit and Pence had not taken him serious. Miles had always taken an interest in cleaning and wanted to open his own dry cleaners, it was surprising that when he had arrived he found out that Miles was indeed legit, but not in a very successful way. Miles had used the majority of his money setting up his place of work, but then found himself with very few to no customers, soon Miles found himself without much money to his name, and struggling to make ends meet. Pence felt sorry for the man, his life was rather nice, but his friends usually ended up like this, suffering and walking around like zombies from one day to another. He had to find a way to help his friend, even if it took him a long time to do so.
Pence: Where do you live Miles, I can't just carry you around like this for hours on end, I have stuff to do before my big match at Overdrive.
Miles: Just turn the corner here, my house is the fourth down.
Pence followed his instructions and found himself standing in front of a rather run down home, Miles walked himself to the door, waved, and went inside. Pence sighed, he didn't know how Miles could live in the shit hole, but apparently he could. Pence shrugged to himself and put his hands in his pockets on his jacket, taking his time walking towards the hotel off in the distance. The walk alone by himself was rather silent, but he ignored it, the silence was a great escape from the shit he had to listen to every week from Level One and his croneys. He embraced the silence as if it were his brother and continued on his way without taking one look back at Miles' home or thinking about what he would have to do this week on Overdrive.
He had three more days till his match and so far he had mostly been relaxing, taking a break from his normal routine of studying and research. All of that was now taking a sort of back seat to his training regime which was full of street fighting to prepare for the Hell in a Cell match. That was how he had met Miles, during one of his matches he had beaten a rather tall Russian who was built like a tank, he had found the drunken Miles in a sort of predicement with several other drunken citizens. Pence had dispensed with them easily with a few right and left hooks and even had to disarm one with a broken bottle for a weapon. Pence had then offered the drunken Miles an escort out of the bar and all those events led up to what Pence was doing now, walking by himself, calmly and peacefully towards his current place of residence.
Upon arriving at the hotel he was greeted by a mass of early morning reporters looking to get the inside scoop on Pence's thought for Overdrive and One Night in Hell. Dodging the majority of them and making his way towards the elevator, Pence sighed in relief, he didn't like the reporters, and their questions. He wanted to keep his plans 100% secret, but with all of them prying all the time Pence didn't know how much longer he could keep them hidden. Pence entered the hotel room with another deep sigh and then lay down on the bed quickly and silently. Pence closed his eyes as sleep took him, he needed his rest for tomorrow's training, and he intended to wake up bright and early for it as well.
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*Moscow, Russia*
**Two Days Ago**
The sound of hard breathing and hard hits filled the abandoned warehouse, it was about one'o clock in the afternoon and the training had only begun, but Pence had already taken a beating. A russian man named Vlad was overseeing his training today, which mostly was him being hit by weapons that would be found in a hell in a cell or him dodging these weapons and trying to counter attack. The whole point of this dangerous training was for Pence to know the weapons that would be used the most by adversaries inside such a match and to find easy and natural counters to them. So far Pence had been hit with clubs, chairs, and sledgehammers, everything that was known to be in a match. Pence called this training "Endurance" training to ease his son's worrying who was now traveling with him. When Pence had came home with bruises all over his body Matt had been a little freaked out, but Pence explained that he had been training against a strong foe in an endurance or iron man match set up. This had eased his son's mind, but in truth Pence was purposefully being hit with weapon after weapon and then trying to counter with what he thought would work.
So far Pence had natural counters to the chair shot and the sledge hammer, the club was still giving him some issues, but Pence knew that a few more days of practice would fix what he lacked. Vlad swung for the gates with the club and Pence jumped back narrowly missing the heavy hit that would have knocked the wind out of him. Pence went to disarm the Russian, but found that the man's grip was stronger than he thought, Pence was brought in for a hard right hook across the face, which sent Pence stumbling to the floor to the right.
Vlad: Get up Weatherlight, much more you must learn before you can tango one on one with Lester.
Pence stood back up rubbing his jaw and brandishing a busted lip, both men went back at it, with Pence on the defensive, and Vlad on the offensive. Pence narrowly dodged a jab from the club and retaliated with a downward kick on top of the club, which actually caused Vlad to fall a bit forward in surprise at how quick Pence had reacted. Pence uppercutted Vlad, or would have if Vlad wasn't quick enough to dodge the attack. Pence smiled as Vlad wagged his finger and both men shook hands.
Vlad: Clearly you are getting better, but much more must be learned.
Pence: Well I know that and with your help I know I can become prepared for whatever Level has planned in that Cell.
Vlad: I hope so, because we do not have much time left to prepare. Now get back out there, I am going to use the club again till you can counter it naturally in your sleep.
Pence nodded making his way back into the center of the make shift ring that had been constructed in the warehouse. Pence's secret weapon was his determination, at least that was what Vlad had told him, determination to succeed would lead to victory, and the only way to use that determination was to disarm a man who could clearly use street weapons as well as he could. Vlad told him that it would be hard, but he foresaw Pence coming out on top even if Level came at him with everything he had, because Level had forgotten what determination was a long time ago. Pence saw Vlad get back into the ring, this time holding a club with barbed wire wrapped around it. Pence knew that disarming a weapon like that would take a level of skill that he hoped he still had. Vlad came at him with full force, swinging the weapon around like a kid with a new toy. Pence barely dodged the first few hits before being hit across his bare chest, Pence fell to the floor blood gushing from the wounds created by the barbed wire.
Vlad: Do not fall to the floor, even if you are hit by a weapon like this you must be able to continue to stand. Do I make myself clear?
Pence nodded his head returning to a vertical basis and once again preparing to be assaulted by Vlad with the club with barbed wire. Pence dodged a couple jabs, a few swings, and even a down ward hit that would have hurt Pence and most likely ended his training for at least a week. When Vlad came at him again, Pence spun around the weapon and elbowed Vlad in the face, causing Vlad to stumble, and then kicking his leg out from underneath him. Pence knew that Vlad would be quick to recover so he went for something he didn't do often, a submission maneuver. He locked in a sort of arm, hold, putting Vlad's arm behind his back, and putting alot of pressure on the arm.
Pence: Yield.
Vlad: Alright, alright...I yield.
Pence released the hold and offered his hand to the fallen Vlad who accepted it and pulled himself off the ground using Weatherlight's hand. Vlad was practically beaming as he sat down and took a sip of his water, Pence joined him, and he too was a little happy with the moderate success, maybe there was some truth behind his determination being the ultimate weapon.
Vlad: Let me be honest, Pence. This match is truly not about Level One, it is about you, only you can lose this match for yourself, do not give into pain, and do not accept defeat. As long as you are determined to win, you will win, there are no, ands, ifs, or buts about it. Remember that when you step into the cell, remember that when you see your opponent standing in front of you, and remember that as your opponent attacks you and most importantly never give in. If you remember these things this match should be a walk in the park for you.
Pence: I hope you are right Vlad, there are a lot of people counting on me to succeed...so many fans out there that need someone to step up to the plate and do something about the ass Level One has become. I fear that if I don't stop him now, nobody will be able to stop him.
Pence sighed to himself. It was going to be a long week.
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*Moscow, Russia, Inside the Bolshi Theatre*
**Present Day**
The whole theatre is empty except for a lone figure and his camera crew which are on stage. Pence Weatherlight is enjoying himself looking around the large theatre, which is quite breath taking for a first time visitor. How any place could be so beautiful eluded Pence, but clearly this place took the cake in beautiful architecure and was considered to be one of the most historical significant theatres in all of Russia. Pence sat down on the stage, his legs dangling off to the floor below, and Pence turned to look over at the camera crew which were getting pictures and video of the elegant theatre as requested by the Reaper himself. Pence beckoned one of the many camera men over to him, it was time to begin, and Pence didn't want to spend any more time looking around other wise he would get lost in thought.
Pence: How are the kids Benny.
Benny: Good Mr. Weatherlight, how are you feeling today?
Pence: Better by the second Benny, we rolling? Because I think I'm reading to give a verbal beating to some lackeys and an over rated champion.
Benny: Ready when ever you are Mr. Weatherlight.
Benny counted to three and then nodded his head, the signal that the transmission was now live.
Pence: Hello ladies and gentlemen as you can see I am here in Russia in one of the most historically significant Theatres in all of Russia, The Bolshoi Theatre. I'm not here to talk about the elegance of this place or the architectual beauty that has gone into making this extravagent theatre, I am here to talk to my opponents for next Overdrive. You know....the queer, the dick, the under achiever, and satan's bastard love child. Before we begin discussing why this team fails, I think it is only proper to address my allies and let the world know who is going to be kicking ass along side The Reaper. First we have Shadow, the big man, the muscled out destroyer of worlds. This man is out for blood and I guarentee this man is going to kick ass tonight and at One Night in Hell no matter what the fucking out come is. I guarentee this man is going to shatter bones with every punch and every kick. I have a lot of faith in Shadow doing a good job, so I am putting faith in him to beat the fuck out of the chicken shits on the opposing team and of course softening up my opponent for One Night in Hell...Level One. I know this man is more than capable of beating the hell out of about anyone in the APW, you learn a lot about a man when you have fought him, and clearly this time I know what this man is capable of so I can safely say, I'm not at all worried about the big man letting me down in terms of power. He is stronger than me clearly, so in that respect he could own the munchkin in comparison, Biggs. Shadow, I know we have a sort of sore past, but things are different now, you will see why I was at one time a contendor for the tag belts on EWC, I will promise you that, so go ahead, and count on me to get the job done if you need me to. Then we come to what a team needs the most, a fast assaulter, in that respect we have Slade Craven.
Slade Craven I don't know very well, but I know the man is more than capable of flying off that turn buckle and crushing opponents underneath him. He is the only true high flyer in APW and in that boat deserves everyone's respect for using a fighting style that is dangerous for both himself and his opponent. It takes someone with real balls to use a style like that and I respect that he is willing to sacrafice his body for some star studded techniques. He is also almost completely unpredictable and fast, a deadly combination. In the streets the man who can be the most unpredictable and the fastest usually has the greatest advantage clearly Slade has this in the bag, his style sort of unorthodox and using speed to the best he can he has every right to be here in the main event along side me. Hell I could see him being APW World Heavyweight Champion one day and I look forward to proving myself to him and showing him I am capable enough to be a champion myself. Just know this Slade, there was a reason I came out and saw your match personally, and that is because I know you are talented. So now that we have talked about speed and power, what else is there left to cover? Well there is always the confidence to cover in any team, this confidence has taken the form of Jesse Nunez.
Nunez may be a lot of things, people may sometimes dislike him for his actions, and he is sometimes mocked by upper tier wrestlers, but Jesse Nunez is more than capable of dishing out a heaping helping serving of pain. This man has confidence out of the ass, he doesn't care how big or bad his opponent is, he steps into the ring, and he knows damn well that he can take him, no matter how hight the odds are stacked against him! He may not be doing the best right now, but I expect that this match he will be the sleeping giant of our team...awakening to kick the shit out of a man that sickens me and him both, Victor Hades, and kicking the shit out of a man who deserves to have his face rearranged, Level One. Jesse has the heart of a lion and can stand up even after his day has been completely fucked up and wrestle as if he is fresh off the bench in a football game. I may hate some of what he does, but this man has impressed me with his confidence and will to win, I know that he will not let this team down or me down in kicking everyone's ass. Finally every team needs the man who can think one step ahead, that man is me, but clearly I need not speak about myself because that is egotistical, and clearly against what I brought this up to begin with. Moving on to the opponents on the other side of the ring, we will go down up from least talented from most talented and mark the flaws of each man clearly visible from what I have seen.
We will start with Chris Cyrus. Why is Chris Cyrus the weakest you ask? After all he has held the extreme title for a considerable amount of time and has yet to have it be taken away from him...why would he be the weakest? Simply put...he puts no effort into what he does in promos or in the ring. Look at his promo for this week, a three minute long jail scene that had everyone in the world, yawning, and changing the channel to another channel. As you can see I have watched the promo and would rather suggest if you are interested in watching it, just simply listen to the synopsis I am about to give you. Cyrus goes to jail, Biggs and Man Beast show up to save him and bail him out. Chris does a little monologue about how he thinks I'm undeserving or how I am whining, blah blah, and then it ends with how I felt after watching the promo, a good old laugh at the expense of the dumb fuck extreme champion. For someone who has been spoon fed easy opponent after easy opponent you sure as hell have a lot to say about how I suck or how you want to suck Level One's dick because he saved you from a good old beat down on Overdrive.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it Chris you are a rather egotistical character and have no real depth...thank you for being utterly shallow and completely ignorant to everything in the world, because without one of you what would APW be like? Well it would be better, but still...I mean who says you know anything? Who even decided you had permission to speak? Did you ask Lester the Molester in a special way to get the privilege to be the first to be rather dissapointing this week? I bet you did! Who is a good tool Chris! You are a good tool! Now be a good tool and go over there and stroke Lester's ego with your only love, Ms. Righty, and whisper to him lies like, "You stand a chance against the Reaper, Level" or "Pence is not a considerable opponent." or even better "Pence is not going to break his foot off in your ass for being completely pathetic, Level.". If you want to go see whining and bitching look no farther than the man you support, all he did was whine and bitch for a month after I was named Special Guest Referee for his match at Shockwave, or the time he whined and bitched about me being APW champion and came up with a real stupid list that he thinks effected something.
Pence sighs and begins speaking again in a rather irritated tone.
Pence: After watching Chris Cyrus make himself look like the gay fan boy that I always knew he was I didn't think it could get any worse. As I turned the channel I came face to face with another three minutes of effort, Level One suck off promo. After watching the clearly three minute long promo and finding myself having the urge to find the director of the show and blow him up like a Fourth of July Fire Cracker, I noticed that Biggs had rather stupidly made himself the receiver of a royale ass kicking tonight. I don't know if he notices that if he opens his mouth for too long that shit falls out or such, whether that means he is full of shit, a shit eater, or has diahrea of the mouth is clearly up to you all the fans. As I watched the man who is shorter than me claim something along the lines that the Axis of Awesome was more than a clump of shit stuck on the bottom of the APW's shoe. Consider this a wake up call Biggs, you are a stepping stone, and I am a stepper, so get ready to be walked over in the ring, out of the ring, in your place of living, and even more so at One Night in Hell when you and Cyrus both get the ass kicking of a life time from the AKA.
Biggs is really a train wreck waiting to happen, he acts like a dick instead of acting to his true nature, which is clearly effecting him in a negative way. He puts in a miniscule amount of effort even though I know he is capable of doing great things he has been dissapointing me as of late. Replacing skill with cheating doesn't make you a superior wrestler, it just makes you a rather unworthy man. Earn your championship fair and square and I will take that statement back, but otherwise I do think it's safe to say you are not a real champion until you do so. Look at what I have said, listen real closely, because I am speaking to you from a point of view that can clearly be understood, and that is the point of view of the masses. The Axis has really annoyed me this week with a rather lack luster showing, I expect more of you, and I hope this stupidity that you seem to have caught from Level One, fades in time.
Pence stands up and begins to pace on the stage. He gives the fans a few minutes to digest what he has said before beginning again.
Pence: Next on the list is Victor Hades, this emo fuck, satanist, anger management reject, or however you want to view him has been discussed before. I beat him, I claimed a victory over him and what is worse I beat him and Level after being exhausted from the match. I know Victor is truly not ready to accept that I have beat him, clearly he must be under the weather because he has still not posted a promo for this match, I know I have no room to talk several minutes before deadline transmitting makes me angry too, but not angry enough to deny fans some sort of respect. Clearly that is where me and Victor differ, yes we both have anger, but we both use it in a rather different way. For me I use my anger to beat the ever living shit out of my opponent for Victor it is to rather intimidate or make little children sad. I who barely ever get angry because I choose to just view things differently, have to use a calm head and try not to be a raging bull charging at the first sight of red. Victor however embraces this and rationalizes this state of mind, he is more bull than man, charging at his opponent without a moment of thought or clarity, and then when he misses he gets his ass kicked.
Well even after a match he is like this as you all have seen, pushing Shadow around, a big mistake that he will pay for tonight, and stealing Jesse's wife away, another thing that he will get payed in full for tonight. Victor is however the only real power player on their team, Level doesn't even have a chance in hell of scraping shit off his shoes in comparison with the power behind Victor. Victor however is nothing compared to Shadow, so I'm going to be the big man is going to kick his ass so hard that he will be shitting blood for weeks to come. There is however one more opponent that must be gone over, one more fuck tard on the boat to fuck town that is going to get his ass kicked tonight in this warm up match for One Night in Hell and that man is Level One.
Pence smiles at the camera.
Pence: First off, have you improved since our last little battle, no you haven't, that is what I thought. You are still the same old Lester that I thought at Test for the Best, where I have been training with weapons and training myself to be more brutal, you have been in the back sipping mocha, and making plans to do with the demons of my past. First of all, nobody cares about your half ass plan that is destined to fail, and secondly I am not intimidated by you or any fucking demon you've got in the back for me to fight. There is no mountain I can not climb, no river I can not cross, and no ass I can not kick. I am determined to prove to you...no to the mother fucking world, that Pence Weatherlight is the real APW World Heavyweight champion, and tonight I will have that opportunity, tonight I will have backup, but at One Night in Hell I won't. It doesn't matter if I win this match, no, all that matters is that I break you tonight with the assistance of my tag partners, and that is a fate that you can not escape from Lester.
You know there is no escape, there is no surprise attack waiting to be fulfilled, there is only my fist and your face which have dinner arrangements tonight. So comeon down, Lester, bring that ego that you love so much, bring down all of your demons so that my angels can crush them like ants. I am the future Lester and you are the past that is a fact. I am the face of APW now and you are nothing more than the faintest drop in the ocean of what is to come. Once I beat you, I know there is no one left to beat me, I know that I am the top dog, and like it or not, you know just how fucking determined I am to prove I am the top dog. I am willing to take risks that I normally would view as irrational, willing to throw myself into weapons to simply crush you like an ant, willing to bleed out if only it means you die too, and more so I am willing to go through hell, fight all my demons, and walk out the same if that is what it is going to take for me to be the champion again.
I'm undaunted by the task in front of me, I know it will be difficult to take down the old alpha wolf, but I know that this young wolf that I am has enought tricks up his sleeve to become alpha wolf one more time, and this time I will be the alpha for a very long time instead of a fleeting second. So get ready, all of you, for the coming of the Reaper, for when his sickle comes to your throat and you see the pearly gates of heaven, know that you are not on Heaven's list for the Reaper has deemed you all to be sent straight to hell. This is the Reaper signing off, enjoy the rest of your arrogance while it lasts, because the end is near.
*the scene bursts to static*
**Three Days Ago**
The streets of Moscow's suburbs seem almost empty, a couple of lone light posts stand on the sidewalks around the road, casting light down on the empty roads, it is clearly a late hour in the night as the moon is almost in the middle of its' night time path. A loud noise is heard from behind a Jewelery shop as two men come out of the alleyway. One looks rather wasted and the other completely sober, the sober one has the drunken one leaning on him for support as they make their way down the road. The light from the lamp post reveals Pence Weatherlight as the sober one, he is wearing an over shirt with a jacket thrown over it, a pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. The other man who is not familiar, is wearing a similar setup, except that this man has stain spots from the alcohol he has clearly been consuming, and of course one sleeve of his jacket is ripped off.
Pence: I tried to help you man, but you fell pretty hard against that dumpster, are you sure you are alright?
Man: Clearly I ain't! I am wasted, I lost my job, and I think my wife is leaving me.
Pence: You don't have a wife, Miles.
Miles: Wait! She already left! Man, I need another beer!
Pence: I think you have had your fair share of the broosky, let me get you home before you do something stupid.
As if on que, Miles decided to vomit all over Pence's nikes. Pence sighed and grumbled before continuing on his way, trying his best to ignore the smell of the vomit that was on his shoes. He then realised he had no clue where his long time friend Miles lived. Miles had been his friend since he had first came to Russia over ten years ago, Miles had saved his skin twice during that trip, once from the Russian mob which clearly had some power here in Russia, and the second time from his mark which had hired an assortment of other hitmen to guard him. Miles who had once been an illegal arms dealer shipping to America guns that were not supposed to be in the hands of thugs was now nothing more than a drunken cleaner.
Pence: Man, how the times have changed for the both of us.
Pence remembered when Miles had told him he planned on becoming legit and Pence had not taken him serious. Miles had always taken an interest in cleaning and wanted to open his own dry cleaners, it was surprising that when he had arrived he found out that Miles was indeed legit, but not in a very successful way. Miles had used the majority of his money setting up his place of work, but then found himself with very few to no customers, soon Miles found himself without much money to his name, and struggling to make ends meet. Pence felt sorry for the man, his life was rather nice, but his friends usually ended up like this, suffering and walking around like zombies from one day to another. He had to find a way to help his friend, even if it took him a long time to do so.
Pence: Where do you live Miles, I can't just carry you around like this for hours on end, I have stuff to do before my big match at Overdrive.
Miles: Just turn the corner here, my house is the fourth down.
Pence followed his instructions and found himself standing in front of a rather run down home, Miles walked himself to the door, waved, and went inside. Pence sighed, he didn't know how Miles could live in the shit hole, but apparently he could. Pence shrugged to himself and put his hands in his pockets on his jacket, taking his time walking towards the hotel off in the distance. The walk alone by himself was rather silent, but he ignored it, the silence was a great escape from the shit he had to listen to every week from Level One and his croneys. He embraced the silence as if it were his brother and continued on his way without taking one look back at Miles' home or thinking about what he would have to do this week on Overdrive.
He had three more days till his match and so far he had mostly been relaxing, taking a break from his normal routine of studying and research. All of that was now taking a sort of back seat to his training regime which was full of street fighting to prepare for the Hell in a Cell match. That was how he had met Miles, during one of his matches he had beaten a rather tall Russian who was built like a tank, he had found the drunken Miles in a sort of predicement with several other drunken citizens. Pence had dispensed with them easily with a few right and left hooks and even had to disarm one with a broken bottle for a weapon. Pence had then offered the drunken Miles an escort out of the bar and all those events led up to what Pence was doing now, walking by himself, calmly and peacefully towards his current place of residence.
Upon arriving at the hotel he was greeted by a mass of early morning reporters looking to get the inside scoop on Pence's thought for Overdrive and One Night in Hell. Dodging the majority of them and making his way towards the elevator, Pence sighed in relief, he didn't like the reporters, and their questions. He wanted to keep his plans 100% secret, but with all of them prying all the time Pence didn't know how much longer he could keep them hidden. Pence entered the hotel room with another deep sigh and then lay down on the bed quickly and silently. Pence closed his eyes as sleep took him, he needed his rest for tomorrow's training, and he intended to wake up bright and early for it as well.
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*Moscow, Russia*
**Two Days Ago**
The sound of hard breathing and hard hits filled the abandoned warehouse, it was about one'o clock in the afternoon and the training had only begun, but Pence had already taken a beating. A russian man named Vlad was overseeing his training today, which mostly was him being hit by weapons that would be found in a hell in a cell or him dodging these weapons and trying to counter attack. The whole point of this dangerous training was for Pence to know the weapons that would be used the most by adversaries inside such a match and to find easy and natural counters to them. So far Pence had been hit with clubs, chairs, and sledgehammers, everything that was known to be in a match. Pence called this training "Endurance" training to ease his son's worrying who was now traveling with him. When Pence had came home with bruises all over his body Matt had been a little freaked out, but Pence explained that he had been training against a strong foe in an endurance or iron man match set up. This had eased his son's mind, but in truth Pence was purposefully being hit with weapon after weapon and then trying to counter with what he thought would work.
So far Pence had natural counters to the chair shot and the sledge hammer, the club was still giving him some issues, but Pence knew that a few more days of practice would fix what he lacked. Vlad swung for the gates with the club and Pence jumped back narrowly missing the heavy hit that would have knocked the wind out of him. Pence went to disarm the Russian, but found that the man's grip was stronger than he thought, Pence was brought in for a hard right hook across the face, which sent Pence stumbling to the floor to the right.
Vlad: Get up Weatherlight, much more you must learn before you can tango one on one with Lester.
Pence stood back up rubbing his jaw and brandishing a busted lip, both men went back at it, with Pence on the defensive, and Vlad on the offensive. Pence narrowly dodged a jab from the club and retaliated with a downward kick on top of the club, which actually caused Vlad to fall a bit forward in surprise at how quick Pence had reacted. Pence uppercutted Vlad, or would have if Vlad wasn't quick enough to dodge the attack. Pence smiled as Vlad wagged his finger and both men shook hands.
Vlad: Clearly you are getting better, but much more must be learned.
Pence: Well I know that and with your help I know I can become prepared for whatever Level has planned in that Cell.
Vlad: I hope so, because we do not have much time left to prepare. Now get back out there, I am going to use the club again till you can counter it naturally in your sleep.
Pence nodded making his way back into the center of the make shift ring that had been constructed in the warehouse. Pence's secret weapon was his determination, at least that was what Vlad had told him, determination to succeed would lead to victory, and the only way to use that determination was to disarm a man who could clearly use street weapons as well as he could. Vlad told him that it would be hard, but he foresaw Pence coming out on top even if Level came at him with everything he had, because Level had forgotten what determination was a long time ago. Pence saw Vlad get back into the ring, this time holding a club with barbed wire wrapped around it. Pence knew that disarming a weapon like that would take a level of skill that he hoped he still had. Vlad came at him with full force, swinging the weapon around like a kid with a new toy. Pence barely dodged the first few hits before being hit across his bare chest, Pence fell to the floor blood gushing from the wounds created by the barbed wire.
Vlad: Do not fall to the floor, even if you are hit by a weapon like this you must be able to continue to stand. Do I make myself clear?
Pence nodded his head returning to a vertical basis and once again preparing to be assaulted by Vlad with the club with barbed wire. Pence dodged a couple jabs, a few swings, and even a down ward hit that would have hurt Pence and most likely ended his training for at least a week. When Vlad came at him again, Pence spun around the weapon and elbowed Vlad in the face, causing Vlad to stumble, and then kicking his leg out from underneath him. Pence knew that Vlad would be quick to recover so he went for something he didn't do often, a submission maneuver. He locked in a sort of arm, hold, putting Vlad's arm behind his back, and putting alot of pressure on the arm.
Pence: Yield.
Vlad: Alright, alright...I yield.
Pence released the hold and offered his hand to the fallen Vlad who accepted it and pulled himself off the ground using Weatherlight's hand. Vlad was practically beaming as he sat down and took a sip of his water, Pence joined him, and he too was a little happy with the moderate success, maybe there was some truth behind his determination being the ultimate weapon.
Vlad: Let me be honest, Pence. This match is truly not about Level One, it is about you, only you can lose this match for yourself, do not give into pain, and do not accept defeat. As long as you are determined to win, you will win, there are no, ands, ifs, or buts about it. Remember that when you step into the cell, remember that when you see your opponent standing in front of you, and remember that as your opponent attacks you and most importantly never give in. If you remember these things this match should be a walk in the park for you.
Pence: I hope you are right Vlad, there are a lot of people counting on me to succeed...so many fans out there that need someone to step up to the plate and do something about the ass Level One has become. I fear that if I don't stop him now, nobody will be able to stop him.
Pence sighed to himself. It was going to be a long week.
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*Moscow, Russia, Inside the Bolshi Theatre*
**Present Day**
The whole theatre is empty except for a lone figure and his camera crew which are on stage. Pence Weatherlight is enjoying himself looking around the large theatre, which is quite breath taking for a first time visitor. How any place could be so beautiful eluded Pence, but clearly this place took the cake in beautiful architecure and was considered to be one of the most historical significant theatres in all of Russia. Pence sat down on the stage, his legs dangling off to the floor below, and Pence turned to look over at the camera crew which were getting pictures and video of the elegant theatre as requested by the Reaper himself. Pence beckoned one of the many camera men over to him, it was time to begin, and Pence didn't want to spend any more time looking around other wise he would get lost in thought.
Pence: How are the kids Benny.
Benny: Good Mr. Weatherlight, how are you feeling today?
Pence: Better by the second Benny, we rolling? Because I think I'm reading to give a verbal beating to some lackeys and an over rated champion.
Benny: Ready when ever you are Mr. Weatherlight.
Benny counted to three and then nodded his head, the signal that the transmission was now live.
Pence: Hello ladies and gentlemen as you can see I am here in Russia in one of the most historically significant Theatres in all of Russia, The Bolshoi Theatre. I'm not here to talk about the elegance of this place or the architectual beauty that has gone into making this extravagent theatre, I am here to talk to my opponents for next Overdrive. You know....the queer, the dick, the under achiever, and satan's bastard love child. Before we begin discussing why this team fails, I think it is only proper to address my allies and let the world know who is going to be kicking ass along side The Reaper. First we have Shadow, the big man, the muscled out destroyer of worlds. This man is out for blood and I guarentee this man is going to kick ass tonight and at One Night in Hell no matter what the fucking out come is. I guarentee this man is going to shatter bones with every punch and every kick. I have a lot of faith in Shadow doing a good job, so I am putting faith in him to beat the fuck out of the chicken shits on the opposing team and of course softening up my opponent for One Night in Hell...Level One. I know this man is more than capable of beating the hell out of about anyone in the APW, you learn a lot about a man when you have fought him, and clearly this time I know what this man is capable of so I can safely say, I'm not at all worried about the big man letting me down in terms of power. He is stronger than me clearly, so in that respect he could own the munchkin in comparison, Biggs. Shadow, I know we have a sort of sore past, but things are different now, you will see why I was at one time a contendor for the tag belts on EWC, I will promise you that, so go ahead, and count on me to get the job done if you need me to. Then we come to what a team needs the most, a fast assaulter, in that respect we have Slade Craven.
Slade Craven I don't know very well, but I know the man is more than capable of flying off that turn buckle and crushing opponents underneath him. He is the only true high flyer in APW and in that boat deserves everyone's respect for using a fighting style that is dangerous for both himself and his opponent. It takes someone with real balls to use a style like that and I respect that he is willing to sacrafice his body for some star studded techniques. He is also almost completely unpredictable and fast, a deadly combination. In the streets the man who can be the most unpredictable and the fastest usually has the greatest advantage clearly Slade has this in the bag, his style sort of unorthodox and using speed to the best he can he has every right to be here in the main event along side me. Hell I could see him being APW World Heavyweight Champion one day and I look forward to proving myself to him and showing him I am capable enough to be a champion myself. Just know this Slade, there was a reason I came out and saw your match personally, and that is because I know you are talented. So now that we have talked about speed and power, what else is there left to cover? Well there is always the confidence to cover in any team, this confidence has taken the form of Jesse Nunez.
Nunez may be a lot of things, people may sometimes dislike him for his actions, and he is sometimes mocked by upper tier wrestlers, but Jesse Nunez is more than capable of dishing out a heaping helping serving of pain. This man has confidence out of the ass, he doesn't care how big or bad his opponent is, he steps into the ring, and he knows damn well that he can take him, no matter how hight the odds are stacked against him! He may not be doing the best right now, but I expect that this match he will be the sleeping giant of our team...awakening to kick the shit out of a man that sickens me and him both, Victor Hades, and kicking the shit out of a man who deserves to have his face rearranged, Level One. Jesse has the heart of a lion and can stand up even after his day has been completely fucked up and wrestle as if he is fresh off the bench in a football game. I may hate some of what he does, but this man has impressed me with his confidence and will to win, I know that he will not let this team down or me down in kicking everyone's ass. Finally every team needs the man who can think one step ahead, that man is me, but clearly I need not speak about myself because that is egotistical, and clearly against what I brought this up to begin with. Moving on to the opponents on the other side of the ring, we will go down up from least talented from most talented and mark the flaws of each man clearly visible from what I have seen.
We will start with Chris Cyrus. Why is Chris Cyrus the weakest you ask? After all he has held the extreme title for a considerable amount of time and has yet to have it be taken away from him...why would he be the weakest? Simply put...he puts no effort into what he does in promos or in the ring. Look at his promo for this week, a three minute long jail scene that had everyone in the world, yawning, and changing the channel to another channel. As you can see I have watched the promo and would rather suggest if you are interested in watching it, just simply listen to the synopsis I am about to give you. Cyrus goes to jail, Biggs and Man Beast show up to save him and bail him out. Chris does a little monologue about how he thinks I'm undeserving or how I am whining, blah blah, and then it ends with how I felt after watching the promo, a good old laugh at the expense of the dumb fuck extreme champion. For someone who has been spoon fed easy opponent after easy opponent you sure as hell have a lot to say about how I suck or how you want to suck Level One's dick because he saved you from a good old beat down on Overdrive.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it Chris you are a rather egotistical character and have no real depth...thank you for being utterly shallow and completely ignorant to everything in the world, because without one of you what would APW be like? Well it would be better, but still...I mean who says you know anything? Who even decided you had permission to speak? Did you ask Lester the Molester in a special way to get the privilege to be the first to be rather dissapointing this week? I bet you did! Who is a good tool Chris! You are a good tool! Now be a good tool and go over there and stroke Lester's ego with your only love, Ms. Righty, and whisper to him lies like, "You stand a chance against the Reaper, Level" or "Pence is not a considerable opponent." or even better "Pence is not going to break his foot off in your ass for being completely pathetic, Level.". If you want to go see whining and bitching look no farther than the man you support, all he did was whine and bitch for a month after I was named Special Guest Referee for his match at Shockwave, or the time he whined and bitched about me being APW champion and came up with a real stupid list that he thinks effected something.
Pence sighs and begins speaking again in a rather irritated tone.
Pence: After watching Chris Cyrus make himself look like the gay fan boy that I always knew he was I didn't think it could get any worse. As I turned the channel I came face to face with another three minutes of effort, Level One suck off promo. After watching the clearly three minute long promo and finding myself having the urge to find the director of the show and blow him up like a Fourth of July Fire Cracker, I noticed that Biggs had rather stupidly made himself the receiver of a royale ass kicking tonight. I don't know if he notices that if he opens his mouth for too long that shit falls out or such, whether that means he is full of shit, a shit eater, or has diahrea of the mouth is clearly up to you all the fans. As I watched the man who is shorter than me claim something along the lines that the Axis of Awesome was more than a clump of shit stuck on the bottom of the APW's shoe. Consider this a wake up call Biggs, you are a stepping stone, and I am a stepper, so get ready to be walked over in the ring, out of the ring, in your place of living, and even more so at One Night in Hell when you and Cyrus both get the ass kicking of a life time from the AKA.
Biggs is really a train wreck waiting to happen, he acts like a dick instead of acting to his true nature, which is clearly effecting him in a negative way. He puts in a miniscule amount of effort even though I know he is capable of doing great things he has been dissapointing me as of late. Replacing skill with cheating doesn't make you a superior wrestler, it just makes you a rather unworthy man. Earn your championship fair and square and I will take that statement back, but otherwise I do think it's safe to say you are not a real champion until you do so. Look at what I have said, listen real closely, because I am speaking to you from a point of view that can clearly be understood, and that is the point of view of the masses. The Axis has really annoyed me this week with a rather lack luster showing, I expect more of you, and I hope this stupidity that you seem to have caught from Level One, fades in time.
Pence stands up and begins to pace on the stage. He gives the fans a few minutes to digest what he has said before beginning again.
Pence: Next on the list is Victor Hades, this emo fuck, satanist, anger management reject, or however you want to view him has been discussed before. I beat him, I claimed a victory over him and what is worse I beat him and Level after being exhausted from the match. I know Victor is truly not ready to accept that I have beat him, clearly he must be under the weather because he has still not posted a promo for this match, I know I have no room to talk several minutes before deadline transmitting makes me angry too, but not angry enough to deny fans some sort of respect. Clearly that is where me and Victor differ, yes we both have anger, but we both use it in a rather different way. For me I use my anger to beat the ever living shit out of my opponent for Victor it is to rather intimidate or make little children sad. I who barely ever get angry because I choose to just view things differently, have to use a calm head and try not to be a raging bull charging at the first sight of red. Victor however embraces this and rationalizes this state of mind, he is more bull than man, charging at his opponent without a moment of thought or clarity, and then when he misses he gets his ass kicked.
Well even after a match he is like this as you all have seen, pushing Shadow around, a big mistake that he will pay for tonight, and stealing Jesse's wife away, another thing that he will get payed in full for tonight. Victor is however the only real power player on their team, Level doesn't even have a chance in hell of scraping shit off his shoes in comparison with the power behind Victor. Victor however is nothing compared to Shadow, so I'm going to be the big man is going to kick his ass so hard that he will be shitting blood for weeks to come. There is however one more opponent that must be gone over, one more fuck tard on the boat to fuck town that is going to get his ass kicked tonight in this warm up match for One Night in Hell and that man is Level One.
Pence smiles at the camera.
Pence: First off, have you improved since our last little battle, no you haven't, that is what I thought. You are still the same old Lester that I thought at Test for the Best, where I have been training with weapons and training myself to be more brutal, you have been in the back sipping mocha, and making plans to do with the demons of my past. First of all, nobody cares about your half ass plan that is destined to fail, and secondly I am not intimidated by you or any fucking demon you've got in the back for me to fight. There is no mountain I can not climb, no river I can not cross, and no ass I can not kick. I am determined to prove to you...no to the mother fucking world, that Pence Weatherlight is the real APW World Heavyweight champion, and tonight I will have that opportunity, tonight I will have backup, but at One Night in Hell I won't. It doesn't matter if I win this match, no, all that matters is that I break you tonight with the assistance of my tag partners, and that is a fate that you can not escape from Lester.
You know there is no escape, there is no surprise attack waiting to be fulfilled, there is only my fist and your face which have dinner arrangements tonight. So comeon down, Lester, bring that ego that you love so much, bring down all of your demons so that my angels can crush them like ants. I am the future Lester and you are the past that is a fact. I am the face of APW now and you are nothing more than the faintest drop in the ocean of what is to come. Once I beat you, I know there is no one left to beat me, I know that I am the top dog, and like it or not, you know just how fucking determined I am to prove I am the top dog. I am willing to take risks that I normally would view as irrational, willing to throw myself into weapons to simply crush you like an ant, willing to bleed out if only it means you die too, and more so I am willing to go through hell, fight all my demons, and walk out the same if that is what it is going to take for me to be the champion again.
I'm undaunted by the task in front of me, I know it will be difficult to take down the old alpha wolf, but I know that this young wolf that I am has enought tricks up his sleeve to become alpha wolf one more time, and this time I will be the alpha for a very long time instead of a fleeting second. So get ready, all of you, for the coming of the Reaper, for when his sickle comes to your throat and you see the pearly gates of heaven, know that you are not on Heaven's list for the Reaper has deemed you all to be sent straight to hell. This is the Reaper signing off, enjoy the rest of your arrogance while it lasts, because the end is near.
*the scene bursts to static*
