Post by The Paragon of Hardcore on Sept 10, 2008 23:53:36 GMT -4
*He just sits here... at the Grand Opening of a WalMart on his home turf of Long Island, New York. Here he is the Hometown Hero. Here the people form a line that wraps around the building. Men... Women... Children... They all jockey for position just to get the chance to meet him... To shake his hand... To snap a picture... To take home a memory...*
*Once he was the hero to millions... Once they lined up around the block for the chance to put down their hard earned money just to see the Excellence of Extreme in action. They were his Faithful. He was their Hardcore King. He was once their Savior... Their Kratos... The only man with the testicular fortitude to try to take down a powerful madman with delusions of megalomania. He did it for the people. He did it for the glory. He did it for his legacy... And he damn near succeeded. With a mighty Full Throttle off of a balcony, he silenced the capacity crowd, shattered the KaotiK, and broke his own neck in the process. He was the God Killer that the masses had begged for... the heir apparent to the APW World Heavyweight Championship... and he would've been the Last Man Standing if it hadn't been for Kowardly Kenny and his corporate backing.*
*He has been on the Disabled List for three months now and he was completely blown away by the turnout for his first public appearance since APW's Mayhem. His Financial Adviser, Steve Beckett said that this would be a good way to reach out to the people again... An opportunity to remind his Faithful of their love for him. Wrestling fans have such notoriously short memories...*
*Trevor was convinced that his fans would think him a failure. He had not only come up short of his bid for the APW World Heavyweight Championship and failed to dethrone the evil Kenny Lambardo... But he then left them and nursed his badly injured neck when they still desperately needed him. But now as he sits here and looks into the faces of his hundreds of Faithful assembled here today, he sees naught but admiration in their eyes. Maybe a return to the ring is a good idea after all...*
*"The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell looks up from his most recently autographed picture, an uncharacteristically genuine smile spreading across his lips. His ice blue eyes fall on the face of a 16 year old girl wearing a faded "Future Shock" T-Shirt depictin a much younger Hardcore Icon with the CWF Xtreme Championship Belt over his shoulder standing alongside old friends such as Fallen Angel, Glove Guy, Saber, Blaze, Hawk, and Night Shade. This fan smiles and flirts and asks the same questions the last 200 or so have asked. "How have you been?" "When will you return?" "Do you still talk to Tony and Kristina?" "How is your neck?"*
*How is his neck... It is a testament to the phenomenal resilience and Wolverine-like healing powers of The Blackwells that he is even capable of walking. Only three short months ago, he laid on a gurney in Stonybrook Hospital. His brother, Tony; his sister, Kristina; and his daughter, Skyler sat by his side as famed Sports Surgeon, Dr. James Youngblood showed them Trevor's x-rays and spoke about three horribly fractured vertebrae. He talked about an experimental bone fusion surgery and spending at least six months in rehabilitation before possibly being able to resume an in-ring career. But his mind was haunted... Visions of violence and brutality plagued the sleepless nights that followed his incredibly successful procedure.
Images of Kenny Lambardo taunting him as he hid behind Trevor's own daughter, Skyler and her mother, Diana Steel... as he would later stand by and let her die... slaughtered by a drunk driver...
Images of Hurricane Jeff screwing him out of the title by making himself yet another enemy in a long list instead of the Enforcer he professed to be.*
*He lifted steadily increasing weights in his private gym in the bowels of The Blackwell Academy in Lake Grove, Long Island, New York. This building was supposed to be the halls of the future... The training grounds for the Hardcore Heroes of tomorrow. Now it was his sanctuary... His place of healing and rebuilding as he built up armors of muscle to protect his still healing neck... With each push of the weight bar, he saw the men that robbed him of his immortality. He tasted the sweat as it dripped down his face, pooling in his mouth with a salty metallic taste that drove him to press on and remake himself. A sweeter taste dripped from his lips. The flavor of revenge. News of the current state of affairs in Action Packed Wrestling had leaked out to the Career Killer and in half the time that Dr. Youngblood had predicted, Trevor Blackwell was back in ring shape. He had heard that Kenny Lambardo was gone, injured as well after plummeting off the Titantron. He had heard that Dr. Matt was coming out of his drug induced coma and was finally making a return to the ring. He had heard that an old rival of his had recently captured the World Heavyweight Championship that was rightfully his. And he had seen the face of his first target while he watched APW's most recent Pay Per View.*
*We return to our hero at the WalMart. Already his hand is cramping from writing his name over and over on glossies of his face. He was about to get ready to end this session when his cell phone rings. He picks it up with a smile.*
Trevor: Hey there, Little Sister... How goes things on your end?
*A pause as a frown creases his scarred brow.*
Trevor: Those fucking pussies... Leave it to Jason Royce and The Hardcore Kid to cheat to save their own hides. Its alright... they can't hold onto those titles for long. How did the rest of our plan go?
*He pauses again and a sick smile crosses his lips as he stands and shoulders his red and black duffel bag, heading for the parking lot and his waiting 1979 Harley Davidson Fatboy.*
Trevor: Good... You think he got the message?
*He laughs, his ice blue eyes flashing as he pauses next to his bike.*
Trevor: Perfect. Leave it to Jeff to book me for the very next show the moment he hears I'm returning. I'll catch a flight out tonight.
*One more pause.*
Trevor: I love you too, Kid... I'll see you tomorrow.
*The once and future Hardcore King closes his cell phone and returns it to his leather biker's jacket as he kicks his Harley into ignition... reveling in the roar of its horsepower... Yes... It was time for his return. APW was growing stale and the plans that were about to be put into motion will shake the wrestling world to its very foundations.*
*Once he was the hero to millions... Once they lined up around the block for the chance to put down their hard earned money just to see the Excellence of Extreme in action. They were his Faithful. He was their Hardcore King. He was once their Savior... Their Kratos... The only man with the testicular fortitude to try to take down a powerful madman with delusions of megalomania. He did it for the people. He did it for the glory. He did it for his legacy... And he damn near succeeded. With a mighty Full Throttle off of a balcony, he silenced the capacity crowd, shattered the KaotiK, and broke his own neck in the process. He was the God Killer that the masses had begged for... the heir apparent to the APW World Heavyweight Championship... and he would've been the Last Man Standing if it hadn't been for Kowardly Kenny and his corporate backing.*
*He has been on the Disabled List for three months now and he was completely blown away by the turnout for his first public appearance since APW's Mayhem. His Financial Adviser, Steve Beckett said that this would be a good way to reach out to the people again... An opportunity to remind his Faithful of their love for him. Wrestling fans have such notoriously short memories...*
*Trevor was convinced that his fans would think him a failure. He had not only come up short of his bid for the APW World Heavyweight Championship and failed to dethrone the evil Kenny Lambardo... But he then left them and nursed his badly injured neck when they still desperately needed him. But now as he sits here and looks into the faces of his hundreds of Faithful assembled here today, he sees naught but admiration in their eyes. Maybe a return to the ring is a good idea after all...*
*"The Career Killer" Trevor Blackwell looks up from his most recently autographed picture, an uncharacteristically genuine smile spreading across his lips. His ice blue eyes fall on the face of a 16 year old girl wearing a faded "Future Shock" T-Shirt depictin a much younger Hardcore Icon with the CWF Xtreme Championship Belt over his shoulder standing alongside old friends such as Fallen Angel, Glove Guy, Saber, Blaze, Hawk, and Night Shade. This fan smiles and flirts and asks the same questions the last 200 or so have asked. "How have you been?" "When will you return?" "Do you still talk to Tony and Kristina?" "How is your neck?"*
*How is his neck... It is a testament to the phenomenal resilience and Wolverine-like healing powers of The Blackwells that he is even capable of walking. Only three short months ago, he laid on a gurney in Stonybrook Hospital. His brother, Tony; his sister, Kristina; and his daughter, Skyler sat by his side as famed Sports Surgeon, Dr. James Youngblood showed them Trevor's x-rays and spoke about three horribly fractured vertebrae. He talked about an experimental bone fusion surgery and spending at least six months in rehabilitation before possibly being able to resume an in-ring career. But his mind was haunted... Visions of violence and brutality plagued the sleepless nights that followed his incredibly successful procedure.
Images of Kenny Lambardo taunting him as he hid behind Trevor's own daughter, Skyler and her mother, Diana Steel... as he would later stand by and let her die... slaughtered by a drunk driver...
Images of Hurricane Jeff screwing him out of the title by making himself yet another enemy in a long list instead of the Enforcer he professed to be.*
*He lifted steadily increasing weights in his private gym in the bowels of The Blackwell Academy in Lake Grove, Long Island, New York. This building was supposed to be the halls of the future... The training grounds for the Hardcore Heroes of tomorrow. Now it was his sanctuary... His place of healing and rebuilding as he built up armors of muscle to protect his still healing neck... With each push of the weight bar, he saw the men that robbed him of his immortality. He tasted the sweat as it dripped down his face, pooling in his mouth with a salty metallic taste that drove him to press on and remake himself. A sweeter taste dripped from his lips. The flavor of revenge. News of the current state of affairs in Action Packed Wrestling had leaked out to the Career Killer and in half the time that Dr. Youngblood had predicted, Trevor Blackwell was back in ring shape. He had heard that Kenny Lambardo was gone, injured as well after plummeting off the Titantron. He had heard that Dr. Matt was coming out of his drug induced coma and was finally making a return to the ring. He had heard that an old rival of his had recently captured the World Heavyweight Championship that was rightfully his. And he had seen the face of his first target while he watched APW's most recent Pay Per View.*
*We return to our hero at the WalMart. Already his hand is cramping from writing his name over and over on glossies of his face. He was about to get ready to end this session when his cell phone rings. He picks it up with a smile.*
Trevor: Hey there, Little Sister... How goes things on your end?
*A pause as a frown creases his scarred brow.*
Trevor: Those fucking pussies... Leave it to Jason Royce and The Hardcore Kid to cheat to save their own hides. Its alright... they can't hold onto those titles for long. How did the rest of our plan go?
*He pauses again and a sick smile crosses his lips as he stands and shoulders his red and black duffel bag, heading for the parking lot and his waiting 1979 Harley Davidson Fatboy.*
Trevor: Good... You think he got the message?
*He laughs, his ice blue eyes flashing as he pauses next to his bike.*
Trevor: Perfect. Leave it to Jeff to book me for the very next show the moment he hears I'm returning. I'll catch a flight out tonight.
*One more pause.*
Trevor: I love you too, Kid... I'll see you tomorrow.
*The once and future Hardcore King closes his cell phone and returns it to his leather biker's jacket as he kicks his Harley into ignition... reveling in the roar of its horsepower... Yes... It was time for his return. APW was growing stale and the plans that were about to be put into motion will shake the wrestling world to its very foundations.*
