Post by warrenpeace on Mar 10, 2013 20:19:19 GMT -4
Mission Accomplished
The now cold sweat is dripping down his face as if he were begin sprayed by hose water. He leans back, unable to truly catch his breath. A familiar feeling of cold steel pressing against the bare skin of his back.
Last week he sat poised just as he is now. The hard wood bench of locker room is much like the one he sat upon this time last week. Tonight however, is monumentally different than before.
This time the heavy leather strap of his North American Championship is clutched tightly, pressing against his stomach. Tonight a goal that was set long ago was achieved.
And he sat on uncomfortably on the hardwood bench and he reflected. The last two years of his career and life. The up's and down's and everything in between that had led to this very moment.
Long after the event was over, and the other performers had hit the road. Warren sat, still in his ring gear holding his title belt. Enjoying the victory and appreciating this brief moment of peace.
This was the calm before the storm, and come tomorrow there would be waves of wrestlers aiming to bear their arms and take this from him.
But tonight Warren would enjoy the fruits of his labor, soon he would be dodging bullets.
Meet and greet
Many wrestlers who are beyond past their primes attend meet and greets as a way to con their wrestling following into shilling out copious amounts of money for an autograph or photo opportunity. today Warren has made time on his way to Niagra Falls to stop at a local fan convention. Wearing the North American title around his waist he walks through the front gate, just like any one else would have to do. Paying for a ticket and having the back of his hand stamped with a color code.
Many of the fans notice him right away, but are a little apprehensive to speak to him due to his entrance. Eventually though as Warren makes the rounds passing by table after table of past their prime performers with jars of cash and small return product. Two fans, a boy and his father call for his attention.
Boy: Warren! Warren!
Warren looks back at them, he makes eye contact with the boys assuring father as the two of them trade nods. Warren walks over and shakes the fathers hand before kneeling down to be eye level with the boy. The boy is wearing a Warren Peace #revolution t shirt and has a plastic replica belt.
Warren: Hey there little guy what's your name?
Boy: My name is Mitch. And you're my favorite wrestler.
Warren: Well, thank you Mitch. That's an honor to hear.
Father: He has all of your merchandise on his wall.
Warren looks up at the boys father, who has no doubt spent a budget on the wrestling toys, clocks, posters, trash bis and whatever else the Action Packed Wrestling company attached his name to.
Warren: That's very flattering. I don't even know of or endorse any of those products. That's not why I am in the business, but it's pretty cool that your dad buys all of that for you.
Boy: You're my dad's favorite wrestler too. He says that you're admirable and someone I can look up to. I agree with him to. You're my hero Warren.
Warren is red in the face with flattery at this point.
Warren: Well, Mitch that is why I do this. It's not about toys or posters, although I bet those are all pretty cool. I do this because no one else will.
Father: It's true, we love what you represent. You're the guy we watch because we know you won't stray into trash television like so many others have.
Warren: well sir, I appreciate your support. Change can't happen overnight, but we are making progress.
Warren looks back at his adoring fan.
Warren: How would you like to take a picture with the North American Championship title belt?
boy: that would be awesome!
Warren: You got a camera dad?
Father: Sure do.
Warren: Ok then lets go.
Warren unstraps the title and hands it to the boy. It is too heavy for him to carry by himself so Warren carries the title for him and puts out a fist. They pose for a few pictures and Warren signs and autograph for the father and son.
Father: This was an incredible treat. The ads didn'nt say anything about you making an appearance here.
Warren: Well that's actually because I am not a performer here. I am on the road to the next Meltdown. There are a few people here who I also paid to see.
Father: Oh wow, well lucky coincidence then. We really do appreciate it Mr. Peace.
Warren: It's no problem at all. and please just call me Warren.
he looks down at the boy.
Warren: You be good for your dad now. He's a good guy.
Boy: Oh, I know. Someday I am going to be just like him.
Warren: You could do worse.
Someone catches Warren's eye. He kneels down and claps the boys hand one lasr time bidding he and his father farewell. He grasps the North American championship belt tightly between his clenched fingers and walks with haste to the far side of the convention center. There is a table setup with tons of photos for purchase, autograph specials, binders, posters, merchandise galore. All with high price tags.
The man sitting behind on the other side of the table is a former legend in the business. He is a "Nature Boy" personified. A man with more title credentials than numbers in his growing age. He sits unaware that Warren Peace has made haste toward him. sipping from liquor from a flask, the man squints his eyes and only looks up at Warren after Peace's shadow cascades the table.
The man smiles at first hoping to sell himself to another fan. The smile fades to an uncertain grin when he makes eye contact with Warren.
Legend: Hello, son.
Warren: Dad.
Silence ensues for what seems like hours, if only for a brief few seconds. Warren's father points to the North American title.
Warrens dad: I was watching when you won that.
As if the notion of this man watching him wrestle did anything for Warren.
Warren: But you were rooting for other guy.
His father chuckles and sips from his flask again. The need to hide his alcoholism from a fan is one thing, but his son a completely different situation. He drinks.[/b]
Warrens dad: You'd like to hear that wouldn't you? The fact of the matter is boy, that I trained you, my tag team partner and stable mates trained you. If not for the Brock family you wouldn't even have stepped through the door in this business. So as a student of ours, we have never stopped watching you.
Warren: Even after I ended Jay Gatsby's career?
Warrens dad: We always knew he was weak. He couldn't handle it. If you hadn't ended it someone else surely would have.
Warren: And would this person go on to win the tag titles without a partner?
warrens dad: I saw that too...I also watched you lose those titles without a partner as well. You backed yourself into that corner.
Warren shakes his head at his old man.
warrens dad: But you fought you way out of it, and recovered nicely. You have a shiny new belt. Nearing the face of your brand. Got a solid gimmick. Hell if you were anything like me you would be out partying, getting laid, celebrating.
Warren: I am nothing like you.
warrens dad: The apple sure did fall pretty far from the tree.
Warren: That tends to happen with all things when cross pollinated.
Warren's dead looks confused.
Warren: Cause you were a sperm donor.
warrens dad: And you were an accident. You weren't even the first, hell I would be surprised if you were the last one too. What the hell do you want anyway? Why are you here, bugging me?
Warren: I came here to show you this title...
warrens dad: And you have. Daddy's proud now move along.
Warren: Don't interrupt me.
His fathers eyes widen.
Warren: I came here to show you this title and to laugh in your face. Because you are a broken down glorified performer at a convention center and I am main eventing with the most successful wrestling company in the world.
You are an alcoholic, womanizing, scum bag and you can thank your past as a wrestling "superstar" for that. Was the spotlight worth all of the conventions and pretend shoot interviews that you have to do now just to keep your buck? Was the spotlight worth becoming this? The occasional independent booking aside, when was the last time you felt it? The ropes, the mat the ring? The rats and booze after a match?
I came here because you helped mold and craft this business into the trash product that it is now. You are a shining example of everything that I hate about professional wrestling. A good looking showman with bright lights and a fake gimmick. Lying to the crowd to sell yourself.
Tricking young women into sexual escapades with the promise of fortune and fame. The booze, the drugs, the entire scene. You are responsible for the mess. Well I came here because in order to clean an oil spill from an ocean, you have to start at the source of the problem.
Warren raises his title and brings it down across his fathers skull several times knocking his unconscious body to the floor. He grabs the cloth resting on the table and yanks it sending his fathers display items scattering about the hall. Warren casually turns around and walks toward the door.
Public enemy no.1
An internet exclusive handheld video of Warren Peace has surfaced on the official Action Packed Wrestling website.
Warren's face is a black and white. The camera footage is shaky as Warren is clearly on the move. Possibly as a passenger on a train.
Warren:Hey everyone, I wanna first thank you all for the continuing support. I can feel the revolution growing daily. Last weeks victory wouldn't have been possible if it weren't you for all getting behind me. So right off the bat I wanted to recognize you all.
Last week was pretty huge. Of course I am talking about my victory over Young Mannie and his stooges to capture the North American championship title. Despite his best efforts, and filthy degenerate tactics in the ring we prevailed and took our championship.
Meltdown is changing, and it's happening fast. new ownership, and the people running the show now have uncertain futures with this company. Mannie, the guy from the other show is no longer carrying out title.
I promised change, and as god as out witness change is a coming. If you look no further than that, than you will see that I am a man of my word. That When I make a promise to you all, I damn sure intend to keep it.
Im just a few weeks we have literally revolutionized Meltdown, but it cannot stop here. There is still plenty of work for us to do on Monday's and with this title. We have validation and clearance to do whatever we have to, to make this show great.
The other night when I won the North American championship, I didn't go out and celebrate in night clubs. I didn't get drunk or use this title to take advantage of any easily persuaded girls.
I sat in the locker room, and I held the title. I contemplated my next move. I sat there for hours. I am a made man yes, but with that comes a huge bulls eye. There is a roster full of people on Meltdown who want to have this championship title as their own.
And if they don't feel up to the task of trying than they should be careful that the door doesn't hit them on their asses on their way out, because there is no room for you here.
I sat there in that locker room and accepted the fact that I am now a human target, and people want to make me a martyr. They want to make us look like chumps. They don't want a revolution because they fear change. They don't know how act beyond their cartoon antics of being Action Packed Wrestling Megastars.
Each and every one of them are rooting against us, praying that we fail swiftly and thoroughly so they can write me off as some transitional champion who had one lucky night.
The odds are already staked against us. At Rasslemania, my first title defense is an eight man ladder match. The other contenders in the bout are everything a champion should fear. They are the top of the line when it comes to competing here on Meltdown.
Nathaniel Havok, Cid Phoenix, Niobe Martin, Robina Hood, Kevin Dahlia, Amy Zing and The Guv’Nor That's a pretty impressive list of people in and of itself, but they throw ladders into the mix.
This is not just an attention grabber, this is not just the desperate work of people trying to keep their jobs, this is the machine trying to put us down before we put them out of their misery.
I can guarantee blood, sweat, tears, physical anguish will be had by all of us, and I can guarantee that despite all of the odds we will walk out of Rasslemania victorious and after our battle wounds have healed we will be even stronger.
But the road to Rasslemania starts this week for us. This Monday there will be tag team action because nothing sells a big match like a tag team scrap. My partner is the Guv'Nor and our opponents are Kevin Dahlia & Nathaniel Havok.
That's a killer main event. And believe it or not I am looking forward to it. Of course they all want to make an example out of me. They all need to look like the best going into our match.
I have already competed against and defeated Kevin, but that was before he had something to prove, and before I had something he wants. This championship. I am not going to underestimate him, far from it.
And Mr. Havok is a staple of the APW. This is going to be a fun one for sure. Not only am I facing two of Meltdowns brightest, my tag team partner, a man who I beat just few weeks ago is possibly the toughest man to come out of the UK, and he sure seems like the type of limey gent who would drop me in the ring just to make sure I know he's gunning for my title.
Luckily enough for me I am the face of a revolution and as such I not only have eyes on the back of my head, but in every which direction and I am prepared for everything that can and probably will go down on Monday.
As I said everyone is now rooting for me to fail, but that has been the situation for my entire life. And every time they think they have me defeated and under control I hit the knock out blow and surprise them all.
Last weeks was a special night, and it certainly raised the bar. And this week I will not let the people down. We have finally taken what is rightfully ours and there is no way in hell that anyone will take it from us.
Guv'Nor listen up Bruv, I have a nasty habit of leaving my tag team partners to face their demise, but I can assure you that will not happen this week. You can trust me when I say that my only intentions are to defeat our opponents and walk away one match closer to our Mania moment.
You can trust that I am not ready to beat the piss and vinegar out of you for a second time. You can trust that you will win this week because the people of the revolution is on your side. There will be no friendly fire from my end.
And the people can trust that their champion will walk out of Meltdown victorious, arms raised above his defeated foes. we are riding this wave of momentum to Rasslemania and wherever it carries us thereafter.
We will not let the fans down, the children who so desperately need a proper hero. The women who need defended against harassment.
We will remain strong, vigilant, constant and of course victorious. For the people, by the people, this your North American champion. The champion that your children can look up to. signing off and shipping out.
The video ends at this moment, jumping back to it's point of origin.
The now cold sweat is dripping down his face as if he were begin sprayed by hose water. He leans back, unable to truly catch his breath. A familiar feeling of cold steel pressing against the bare skin of his back.
Last week he sat poised just as he is now. The hard wood bench of locker room is much like the one he sat upon this time last week. Tonight however, is monumentally different than before.
This time the heavy leather strap of his North American Championship is clutched tightly, pressing against his stomach. Tonight a goal that was set long ago was achieved.
And he sat on uncomfortably on the hardwood bench and he reflected. The last two years of his career and life. The up's and down's and everything in between that had led to this very moment.
Long after the event was over, and the other performers had hit the road. Warren sat, still in his ring gear holding his title belt. Enjoying the victory and appreciating this brief moment of peace.
This was the calm before the storm, and come tomorrow there would be waves of wrestlers aiming to bear their arms and take this from him.
But tonight Warren would enjoy the fruits of his labor, soon he would be dodging bullets.
Meet and greet
Many wrestlers who are beyond past their primes attend meet and greets as a way to con their wrestling following into shilling out copious amounts of money for an autograph or photo opportunity. today Warren has made time on his way to Niagra Falls to stop at a local fan convention. Wearing the North American title around his waist he walks through the front gate, just like any one else would have to do. Paying for a ticket and having the back of his hand stamped with a color code.
Many of the fans notice him right away, but are a little apprehensive to speak to him due to his entrance. Eventually though as Warren makes the rounds passing by table after table of past their prime performers with jars of cash and small return product. Two fans, a boy and his father call for his attention.
Boy: Warren! Warren!
Warren looks back at them, he makes eye contact with the boys assuring father as the two of them trade nods. Warren walks over and shakes the fathers hand before kneeling down to be eye level with the boy. The boy is wearing a Warren Peace #revolution t shirt and has a plastic replica belt.
Warren: Hey there little guy what's your name?
Boy: My name is Mitch. And you're my favorite wrestler.
Warren: Well, thank you Mitch. That's an honor to hear.
Father: He has all of your merchandise on his wall.
Warren looks up at the boys father, who has no doubt spent a budget on the wrestling toys, clocks, posters, trash bis and whatever else the Action Packed Wrestling company attached his name to.
Warren: That's very flattering. I don't even know of or endorse any of those products. That's not why I am in the business, but it's pretty cool that your dad buys all of that for you.
Boy: You're my dad's favorite wrestler too. He says that you're admirable and someone I can look up to. I agree with him to. You're my hero Warren.
Warren is red in the face with flattery at this point.
Warren: Well, Mitch that is why I do this. It's not about toys or posters, although I bet those are all pretty cool. I do this because no one else will.
Father: It's true, we love what you represent. You're the guy we watch because we know you won't stray into trash television like so many others have.
Warren: well sir, I appreciate your support. Change can't happen overnight, but we are making progress.
Warren looks back at his adoring fan.
Warren: How would you like to take a picture with the North American Championship title belt?
boy: that would be awesome!
Warren: You got a camera dad?
Father: Sure do.
Warren: Ok then lets go.
Warren unstraps the title and hands it to the boy. It is too heavy for him to carry by himself so Warren carries the title for him and puts out a fist. They pose for a few pictures and Warren signs and autograph for the father and son.
Father: This was an incredible treat. The ads didn'nt say anything about you making an appearance here.
Warren: Well that's actually because I am not a performer here. I am on the road to the next Meltdown. There are a few people here who I also paid to see.
Father: Oh wow, well lucky coincidence then. We really do appreciate it Mr. Peace.
Warren: It's no problem at all. and please just call me Warren.
he looks down at the boy.
Warren: You be good for your dad now. He's a good guy.
Boy: Oh, I know. Someday I am going to be just like him.
Warren: You could do worse.
Someone catches Warren's eye. He kneels down and claps the boys hand one lasr time bidding he and his father farewell. He grasps the North American championship belt tightly between his clenched fingers and walks with haste to the far side of the convention center. There is a table setup with tons of photos for purchase, autograph specials, binders, posters, merchandise galore. All with high price tags.
The man sitting behind on the other side of the table is a former legend in the business. He is a "Nature Boy" personified. A man with more title credentials than numbers in his growing age. He sits unaware that Warren Peace has made haste toward him. sipping from liquor from a flask, the man squints his eyes and only looks up at Warren after Peace's shadow cascades the table.
The man smiles at first hoping to sell himself to another fan. The smile fades to an uncertain grin when he makes eye contact with Warren.
Legend: Hello, son.
Warren: Dad.
Silence ensues for what seems like hours, if only for a brief few seconds. Warren's father points to the North American title.
Warrens dad: I was watching when you won that.
As if the notion of this man watching him wrestle did anything for Warren.
Warren: But you were rooting for other guy.
His father chuckles and sips from his flask again. The need to hide his alcoholism from a fan is one thing, but his son a completely different situation. He drinks.[/b]
Warrens dad: You'd like to hear that wouldn't you? The fact of the matter is boy, that I trained you, my tag team partner and stable mates trained you. If not for the Brock family you wouldn't even have stepped through the door in this business. So as a student of ours, we have never stopped watching you.
Warren: Even after I ended Jay Gatsby's career?
Warrens dad: We always knew he was weak. He couldn't handle it. If you hadn't ended it someone else surely would have.
Warren: And would this person go on to win the tag titles without a partner?
warrens dad: I saw that too...I also watched you lose those titles without a partner as well. You backed yourself into that corner.
Warren shakes his head at his old man.
warrens dad: But you fought you way out of it, and recovered nicely. You have a shiny new belt. Nearing the face of your brand. Got a solid gimmick. Hell if you were anything like me you would be out partying, getting laid, celebrating.
Warren: I am nothing like you.
warrens dad: The apple sure did fall pretty far from the tree.
Warren: That tends to happen with all things when cross pollinated.
Warren's dead looks confused.
Warren: Cause you were a sperm donor.
warrens dad: And you were an accident. You weren't even the first, hell I would be surprised if you were the last one too. What the hell do you want anyway? Why are you here, bugging me?
Warren: I came here to show you this title...
warrens dad: And you have. Daddy's proud now move along.
Warren: Don't interrupt me.
His fathers eyes widen.
Warren: I came here to show you this title and to laugh in your face. Because you are a broken down glorified performer at a convention center and I am main eventing with the most successful wrestling company in the world.
You are an alcoholic, womanizing, scum bag and you can thank your past as a wrestling "superstar" for that. Was the spotlight worth all of the conventions and pretend shoot interviews that you have to do now just to keep your buck? Was the spotlight worth becoming this? The occasional independent booking aside, when was the last time you felt it? The ropes, the mat the ring? The rats and booze after a match?
I came here because you helped mold and craft this business into the trash product that it is now. You are a shining example of everything that I hate about professional wrestling. A good looking showman with bright lights and a fake gimmick. Lying to the crowd to sell yourself.
Tricking young women into sexual escapades with the promise of fortune and fame. The booze, the drugs, the entire scene. You are responsible for the mess. Well I came here because in order to clean an oil spill from an ocean, you have to start at the source of the problem.
Warren raises his title and brings it down across his fathers skull several times knocking his unconscious body to the floor. He grabs the cloth resting on the table and yanks it sending his fathers display items scattering about the hall. Warren casually turns around and walks toward the door.
Public enemy no.1
An internet exclusive handheld video of Warren Peace has surfaced on the official Action Packed Wrestling website.
Warren's face is a black and white. The camera footage is shaky as Warren is clearly on the move. Possibly as a passenger on a train.
Warren:Hey everyone, I wanna first thank you all for the continuing support. I can feel the revolution growing daily. Last weeks victory wouldn't have been possible if it weren't you for all getting behind me. So right off the bat I wanted to recognize you all.
Last week was pretty huge. Of course I am talking about my victory over Young Mannie and his stooges to capture the North American championship title. Despite his best efforts, and filthy degenerate tactics in the ring we prevailed and took our championship.
Meltdown is changing, and it's happening fast. new ownership, and the people running the show now have uncertain futures with this company. Mannie, the guy from the other show is no longer carrying out title.
I promised change, and as god as out witness change is a coming. If you look no further than that, than you will see that I am a man of my word. That When I make a promise to you all, I damn sure intend to keep it.
Im just a few weeks we have literally revolutionized Meltdown, but it cannot stop here. There is still plenty of work for us to do on Monday's and with this title. We have validation and clearance to do whatever we have to, to make this show great.
The other night when I won the North American championship, I didn't go out and celebrate in night clubs. I didn't get drunk or use this title to take advantage of any easily persuaded girls.
I sat in the locker room, and I held the title. I contemplated my next move. I sat there for hours. I am a made man yes, but with that comes a huge bulls eye. There is a roster full of people on Meltdown who want to have this championship title as their own.
And if they don't feel up to the task of trying than they should be careful that the door doesn't hit them on their asses on their way out, because there is no room for you here.
I sat there in that locker room and accepted the fact that I am now a human target, and people want to make me a martyr. They want to make us look like chumps. They don't want a revolution because they fear change. They don't know how act beyond their cartoon antics of being Action Packed Wrestling Megastars.
Each and every one of them are rooting against us, praying that we fail swiftly and thoroughly so they can write me off as some transitional champion who had one lucky night.
The odds are already staked against us. At Rasslemania, my first title defense is an eight man ladder match. The other contenders in the bout are everything a champion should fear. They are the top of the line when it comes to competing here on Meltdown.
Nathaniel Havok, Cid Phoenix, Niobe Martin, Robina Hood, Kevin Dahlia, Amy Zing and The Guv’Nor That's a pretty impressive list of people in and of itself, but they throw ladders into the mix.
This is not just an attention grabber, this is not just the desperate work of people trying to keep their jobs, this is the machine trying to put us down before we put them out of their misery.
I can guarantee blood, sweat, tears, physical anguish will be had by all of us, and I can guarantee that despite all of the odds we will walk out of Rasslemania victorious and after our battle wounds have healed we will be even stronger.
But the road to Rasslemania starts this week for us. This Monday there will be tag team action because nothing sells a big match like a tag team scrap. My partner is the Guv'Nor and our opponents are Kevin Dahlia & Nathaniel Havok.
That's a killer main event. And believe it or not I am looking forward to it. Of course they all want to make an example out of me. They all need to look like the best going into our match.
I have already competed against and defeated Kevin, but that was before he had something to prove, and before I had something he wants. This championship. I am not going to underestimate him, far from it.
And Mr. Havok is a staple of the APW. This is going to be a fun one for sure. Not only am I facing two of Meltdowns brightest, my tag team partner, a man who I beat just few weeks ago is possibly the toughest man to come out of the UK, and he sure seems like the type of limey gent who would drop me in the ring just to make sure I know he's gunning for my title.
Luckily enough for me I am the face of a revolution and as such I not only have eyes on the back of my head, but in every which direction and I am prepared for everything that can and probably will go down on Monday.
As I said everyone is now rooting for me to fail, but that has been the situation for my entire life. And every time they think they have me defeated and under control I hit the knock out blow and surprise them all.
Last weeks was a special night, and it certainly raised the bar. And this week I will not let the people down. We have finally taken what is rightfully ours and there is no way in hell that anyone will take it from us.
Guv'Nor listen up Bruv, I have a nasty habit of leaving my tag team partners to face their demise, but I can assure you that will not happen this week. You can trust me when I say that my only intentions are to defeat our opponents and walk away one match closer to our Mania moment.
You can trust that I am not ready to beat the piss and vinegar out of you for a second time. You can trust that you will win this week because the people of the revolution is on your side. There will be no friendly fire from my end.
And the people can trust that their champion will walk out of Meltdown victorious, arms raised above his defeated foes. we are riding this wave of momentum to Rasslemania and wherever it carries us thereafter.
We will not let the fans down, the children who so desperately need a proper hero. The women who need defended against harassment.
We will remain strong, vigilant, constant and of course victorious. For the people, by the people, this your North American champion. The champion that your children can look up to. signing off and shipping out.
The video ends at this moment, jumping back to it's point of origin.
