Post by Your JESUS on May 15, 2013 22:43:27 GMT -4
(OOC: I wrote this four days ago and needed to proof read it before posting. After TJ's post confirming that he was done which i had thought, it seems stiff, but I don't have time to redo it...sorry if offense come about)
~May 19th, mid afternoon~
"For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10,11ESV)
Please don't freak out, this is not an Anthony Bailey piece of feel good bullshit. No you have tuned in to the right grimy channel, you are definitely entrenched in the mud, and everything that you witness moving forward can be considered somewhat of Foul Play. With that disclaimer put forth I'm sure you are still scratching your head while I'm scratching my balls.
"Bible verses Lively...what's up with that?"
Well I'm not honestly sure myself, but reading it I can tell you that my manipulative mind can spin into something quite relevant.
"Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me"
The man or woman who first spoke those words couldn't of comprehended the level in which their words would carry on through out generations. The one thing they must of known as they muttered that statement, surely to another who had just offended them, is that those words are over run with LIES!!! Words are deadly, and through out history the tongue has been referred to as something as sharp as a knife. Mine, how ever I like to think of it as dangerous as a katana, Hattori Hanzo steel as a matter of fact.
The words I spit from time to time slice through your skull leaving your gray matter exposed. pulsing and porous like a sponge ready to welcome the poison I let loose. That venom starts to flow and settle in on that portion of your brain that produces confidence. It stifles production, and leaves an opening for doubt to seep in.
The honesty of the matter is that I have built a career on that simple strategy. I'm no physical monster. I wasn't blessed with with some GODLY gift that makes me virtually better then all others. Two things have lead to me becoming one of THEE most decorated championship caliber wrestlers APW has ever seen, intense work ethic!! I make sure I am ready and willing to do anything I must inside that ring. The second is defeating my challenger before they even face off with me. It's a simple equation that has brought me boat loads of success, and a strategy I plan to employ for Mayhem. I'm sure my first little offering did a little justice already. Like I said we are dealing with a man looking to no longer carry a burden, and I saw that wound and decided to rip it open letting the fresh air sting the bare flesh. Like a bomb the shrapnel might have spread toward the rest of the contenders in this match, but tonight is Mayhem, and before we go live I plan to finish the job. The wounded lying there in shock, clutching their wounds, will be finished off with my intense slicing and dicing Hattori Hanzo like sword of a tongue. Once wounded, or poisoned so to speak, the rest is simply just wrestling. Being here at the Pre show kick off party and the arena jam packed, what better way to let my words be heard then a live in ring address. Knelt down in the corner by a black curtain, I whisper out loud.
"As it says let my words go out and be seeds to sow!! On this evening, when that bell rings I want you to sit back and take a load off. That's right Lord, you have done enough and on this day of Sabbath it's your turn to rest. But do not just ease your mind, or calm your spirit...you put me here to entertain and as I do I maim...so let me be your entertainment Lord."
With that I stand smiling with arrogance, my eyes gravitate toward the sound engineer who I let know I am ready to embark upon this arena with a surprise appearance. AFI blasts out the melodic intro of Misseria Cantare which unsurprisingly induces the deepest bowels of hatred from these Brazilians ready to witness an APW PPV. Their roaring and ranting inflates me to an arrogantly bloated level as I part those curtains. I whip out my arms, close my eyes and welcome the shower of hatred as this place shows me just how they feel. I shake my head a bit as if trying to sift through the thick roar of disdain I was just presented and strut toward the ring.
With a mind full of confidence and an intent to displease these people I stalk up the stairs and drag my feet across the apron. I shoot a dastardly grin their direction as I enter the ring spinning around before standing in the middle of the ring giving an I am JESUS pose once more. With my music fading I scurry towards the time keepers side of the ring calling for a microphone. Once in my grasp I spin around looking out to the full arena then toward the hard camera so anyone in the nose bleeds can feast their eyes upon my on our wonderfully large Mega-tron.
On many occasions I thrill the followers of APW with my antics, my outlandish ideals, and usually cut loose on location. This night, for this match, it boils down to business, so I decided to offer up my verbal assault in a place where the business is done night in and night out.
Lively: Brazil...how fitting a place for me to continue my historic journey. You people erected not to far from this arena a large picture of the first savior doing his best Michael Lively impersonation...
These dirty bastards that live in such a shit hole of a country accelerate their fever pitch of fury toward me. Who knew they took that statue so serious.
Lively: You know the one up on a hill, with his arms outstretched. You see this will be a fitting town for my newest accent to glory. Like all you people hover under neath the statues man parts looking up, so will all the hopefuls in the Knockout Rules Tapout title match later on tonight...the difference is it will be my balls they look up at as I hold the title over my head. A Savior of sorts just the same. You see in a few hours five men will enter with one goal in mind...excuse me four men will enter with one goal in mind, the other looking to lighten his load...right TJ?
I walk toward the ropes leaning forward on them smiling like a smart ass.
Lively: It seems you have a broken heart, or just a case of the crazy bitch. Either way Aubrey J. Parker has had your number, your wallet, hell the woman has what ever of yours that she pleases as of late. She knocked you out, and prepared you for this evening. The reality is that you are welcoming the KO, looking for the extended nap time. Blah-blah-blah right, all things I have pointed out. What I am looking for is the Soul of Philly that the world has been talking about ever since I returned. The TJ that fought through hell to win his first championship here in APW and refused to accept no as an answer. That TJ resurfaced slightly to bring the battle to the Undisputed champions door step, but with defeat also came deflation. I have watched you TJ, and you are way off your game. Things outside of APW must really be dragging you down? You seem like a man pulled in many directions, a gentleman whose time is too consumed with multiple tasks to really stay focused on what truly matters. Then again everyone has different priorities, mine is relieving you of that belt. Yours was to capture gold in this company, and that must of been it. Now you seem like a car with no engine, a tractor with no pull, a train with no push. No worries a loss tonight will be just what the doctor ordered.
I back off the ropes, and look at a different camera.
Lively: You see when faced with defeat is one thing, but losing your first championship is a whole other ball game. Men are made and broken all in that task. As bad as I wish the words I speak will ignite the fire under your ass to come out guns blazing, it seems I may be let down on that silly pipe dream. No sure you are running on fumes and just coasting into this match. Well when you see me hoist the title over your groggy head you will either dig deep into that pocket and pay for a refill, or decide that public transportation isn't so bad. Either way I will be your motivator, I will be your deciding factor, and in a strange way I can be your Savior TJ!!!
I flash a huge grin as I wave to the camera almost hoping TJ is somewhere watching closely. There is way more to this match then simply dealing with TJ, and that's where the challenge of this comes into play. I have been forced into his shoes before and no one to blame but myself, as does he. Like I mentioned , three other men have the hopes of their hand being raised at the sound of the bell. Now where is my sword again...
Lively: That brings me to the rest of you. I have a choice I could pick each one of you out by name and rattle off your inadequacies as a wrestler, I could systematically point out how I plan to dismantle you during this match, and I could explain the Chess Master like mindset that I possess that will find holes in all your games which I will inevitably exploit to bring about your defeat.
I shrug my shoulders at that option.
Lively: Or I could point out that the three other men in this match are out to prove something. Clinging at straws if you will, all of them struggling to get out from under neath the shadows of others. Williams born in the overcasting cloud of his fathers so called fame, found a home with the Dying Breed and honestly it was an easy transition for the guy. Same shit different day if you know what I mean. He traded one shadow for the next. Young Mannie and Logan Alexander are also trying to step out from shadows, in an attempt to make a name for them selves independently. I have to say I would be looking to do the same thing if I strolled into APW riding a woman's coat tails too, but then again I wouldn't of put myself in the situation to be a purse carrying bitch.
I shake my head with disgust.
Lively: And...Mannie, don't think I forgot about you. I see you over there trying your damnedest to get out from behind that big Red Shield!! You have tried to rebuild yourself over and over again. Retool something in hopes to legitimize yourself. I watch you trying to eliminate things from your life when people bring them up in a negative fashion. These things hurt you when you are already so vulnerable, you try to stuff them in a closet hoping no one will see them. I would have more respect for you had you thrown up your middle finger, puffed the joint and said "fuck what you think" while slapping a mother fucker dead in the face. Instead you see the mold, like so many you hop in it, hoping the BRASS will notice you. You, like Alexander, like Williams are all desperate for the attention. Some form of notoriety that this title may bring. You are all chomping at the bit to prove your status in APW...
I smile toward the crowd with a shit eating grin. You see I enjoy my job way too much. Every moment I get to soak up the attention of the world my hungry ego gets fed.
Lively: I on the other hand, have nothing to prove, nothing to lose...I'm just a guy doing what he loves to do, taking what ever I want along the way. I don't have nerves binding up my stomach. I don't have pressures of what could be weighing heavy on my mind. Desperation to prove to the world that I belong isn't something that will polute my mind when times get tough. I will simply enter this ring like I always do, look each one of you in the face, and confidently start to break your wills. The truth is you all NEED this title, where I just WANT it. Anything I have ever wanted, I have attained. Success comes so easy when you are calm, cool and collected. It just becomes a natural progression, and something I have grown accustomed to.
Again I switch cameras as the fans whimper at my non stop barrage of poison spewed from my lips.
Lively: There will be those who wish to spin my words for their gain in an attempt to convince themselves they aren't at a disadvantage. They will stick to some notion that my recent run in APW has been something to be ashamed of. Not one man inside this ring has scored a victory over Level One or CJ Gates, yet I beat both at once. No one in this match has achieved the pinnacle of success in APW like I have. Lets see a former North American champions, yep I did that, and did it first. A couple of former Tag Team champions, again first and with way more style. These men will also grasp at pathetic things like my arrogance will lead to a lack of drive, or that I don't have a hunger. You silly little kids haven't a clue. Never question my drive, because I have plenty of hunger! While you are all looking for self belief or validation, I am out stacking up championships, shitting on dreams, and having fun every step of the way. For me, drive is a secondary thing, a by product if you will. I am driven because I already know how fucking good I am, and its my pleasure to shove my greatness down your throats night in and night out. I wake up in the morning and think it would be a damn shame if i didn't do what i was born to do. I look at title matches like this as coming up completely short if i didn't insert myself I to the mix. I'm not some pup bouncing around looking for approval from a master who signs the checks and named himself after a natural disaster. With or without it, I still lace up these boots and bring the fucking heat. As for motivation, I am motivated only to break the wills of others, and tonight my target is you three. The championship belts along the way have just been tools of the trade, that work wonders on crushing egos. Since TJ has all but given up, I will take great pleasure in scribbling the three of your names onto my list of fragile egos that I have arrogantly crushed. There has never been a more humiliating and humbling sight, then a Baptism Of The Balls, when I set my nuts on your faces, consider your selves blessed, and washed anew.
I grab my balls with one hand while drooping the mic in the other the fans roar with hatred but seem to find comfort in the fact that I am no longer talking. I quickly toss the microphone over my shoulder and quickly whip my arms outward as my music erupts which in turn sparks these people into a frenzy. As if there was a sign above the ring giving direction they start to shoot vulgar words my direction. I smirk with a smart ass grin and roll out of the ring. As I walk up the ramp I can't help but get over run with confidence. I have no distractions, my mind completely focused on my task at hand. To win one of the few remaining championships I seem to be missing on my mantel. These guys all with numerous things clouding their minds, and hands full. Weighed down with the pressure of this evening. As I enter the back stage area distraction free I intend to head toward my locker room and prepare for another night of Michael Lively like glory!
Instead I am stopped dead in my tracks looking rather shocked by the sights my eyes behold. My mother...what in the world is she doing her, and why would she fly all this way just to undertake any of my antics or cruel treatment?
Lively: What in the hell are you doing here?
The look on her face is like nothing I have ever seem before. She just hesitates, as I tilt my head sideways looking for an answer. Before I can I ask her again, she moves closer placing her hands on my chest.
Terri Lively: M..Michael, I wanted to be, I need to tell you...
My patience wears thin as I grab her by the shoulders pushing her back looking her in the eyes.
Terri Lively: Michael your father is dead!!
I release my grip and look puzzled. I thought she was unsure of who my father was exactly? The news confuses me slightly and I am not sure how to handle what just punched me in the gut. I kind of just walk off towards my locker room to prepare for the match.
~May 19th, mid afternoon~
"For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10,11ESV)
Please don't freak out, this is not an Anthony Bailey piece of feel good bullshit. No you have tuned in to the right grimy channel, you are definitely entrenched in the mud, and everything that you witness moving forward can be considered somewhat of Foul Play. With that disclaimer put forth I'm sure you are still scratching your head while I'm scratching my balls.
"Bible verses Lively...what's up with that?"
Well I'm not honestly sure myself, but reading it I can tell you that my manipulative mind can spin into something quite relevant.
"Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me"
The man or woman who first spoke those words couldn't of comprehended the level in which their words would carry on through out generations. The one thing they must of known as they muttered that statement, surely to another who had just offended them, is that those words are over run with LIES!!! Words are deadly, and through out history the tongue has been referred to as something as sharp as a knife. Mine, how ever I like to think of it as dangerous as a katana, Hattori Hanzo steel as a matter of fact.
The words I spit from time to time slice through your skull leaving your gray matter exposed. pulsing and porous like a sponge ready to welcome the poison I let loose. That venom starts to flow and settle in on that portion of your brain that produces confidence. It stifles production, and leaves an opening for doubt to seep in.
The honesty of the matter is that I have built a career on that simple strategy. I'm no physical monster. I wasn't blessed with with some GODLY gift that makes me virtually better then all others. Two things have lead to me becoming one of THEE most decorated championship caliber wrestlers APW has ever seen, intense work ethic!! I make sure I am ready and willing to do anything I must inside that ring. The second is defeating my challenger before they even face off with me. It's a simple equation that has brought me boat loads of success, and a strategy I plan to employ for Mayhem. I'm sure my first little offering did a little justice already. Like I said we are dealing with a man looking to no longer carry a burden, and I saw that wound and decided to rip it open letting the fresh air sting the bare flesh. Like a bomb the shrapnel might have spread toward the rest of the contenders in this match, but tonight is Mayhem, and before we go live I plan to finish the job. The wounded lying there in shock, clutching their wounds, will be finished off with my intense slicing and dicing Hattori Hanzo like sword of a tongue. Once wounded, or poisoned so to speak, the rest is simply just wrestling. Being here at the Pre show kick off party and the arena jam packed, what better way to let my words be heard then a live in ring address. Knelt down in the corner by a black curtain, I whisper out loud.
"As it says let my words go out and be seeds to sow!! On this evening, when that bell rings I want you to sit back and take a load off. That's right Lord, you have done enough and on this day of Sabbath it's your turn to rest. But do not just ease your mind, or calm your spirit...you put me here to entertain and as I do I maim...so let me be your entertainment Lord."
With that I stand smiling with arrogance, my eyes gravitate toward the sound engineer who I let know I am ready to embark upon this arena with a surprise appearance. AFI blasts out the melodic intro of Misseria Cantare which unsurprisingly induces the deepest bowels of hatred from these Brazilians ready to witness an APW PPV. Their roaring and ranting inflates me to an arrogantly bloated level as I part those curtains. I whip out my arms, close my eyes and welcome the shower of hatred as this place shows me just how they feel. I shake my head a bit as if trying to sift through the thick roar of disdain I was just presented and strut toward the ring.
With a mind full of confidence and an intent to displease these people I stalk up the stairs and drag my feet across the apron. I shoot a dastardly grin their direction as I enter the ring spinning around before standing in the middle of the ring giving an I am JESUS pose once more. With my music fading I scurry towards the time keepers side of the ring calling for a microphone. Once in my grasp I spin around looking out to the full arena then toward the hard camera so anyone in the nose bleeds can feast their eyes upon my on our wonderfully large Mega-tron.
On many occasions I thrill the followers of APW with my antics, my outlandish ideals, and usually cut loose on location. This night, for this match, it boils down to business, so I decided to offer up my verbal assault in a place where the business is done night in and night out.
Lively: Brazil...how fitting a place for me to continue my historic journey. You people erected not to far from this arena a large picture of the first savior doing his best Michael Lively impersonation...
These dirty bastards that live in such a shit hole of a country accelerate their fever pitch of fury toward me. Who knew they took that statue so serious.
Lively: You know the one up on a hill, with his arms outstretched. You see this will be a fitting town for my newest accent to glory. Like all you people hover under neath the statues man parts looking up, so will all the hopefuls in the Knockout Rules Tapout title match later on tonight...the difference is it will be my balls they look up at as I hold the title over my head. A Savior of sorts just the same. You see in a few hours five men will enter with one goal in mind...excuse me four men will enter with one goal in mind, the other looking to lighten his load...right TJ?
I walk toward the ropes leaning forward on them smiling like a smart ass.
Lively: It seems you have a broken heart, or just a case of the crazy bitch. Either way Aubrey J. Parker has had your number, your wallet, hell the woman has what ever of yours that she pleases as of late. She knocked you out, and prepared you for this evening. The reality is that you are welcoming the KO, looking for the extended nap time. Blah-blah-blah right, all things I have pointed out. What I am looking for is the Soul of Philly that the world has been talking about ever since I returned. The TJ that fought through hell to win his first championship here in APW and refused to accept no as an answer. That TJ resurfaced slightly to bring the battle to the Undisputed champions door step, but with defeat also came deflation. I have watched you TJ, and you are way off your game. Things outside of APW must really be dragging you down? You seem like a man pulled in many directions, a gentleman whose time is too consumed with multiple tasks to really stay focused on what truly matters. Then again everyone has different priorities, mine is relieving you of that belt. Yours was to capture gold in this company, and that must of been it. Now you seem like a car with no engine, a tractor with no pull, a train with no push. No worries a loss tonight will be just what the doctor ordered.
I back off the ropes, and look at a different camera.
Lively: You see when faced with defeat is one thing, but losing your first championship is a whole other ball game. Men are made and broken all in that task. As bad as I wish the words I speak will ignite the fire under your ass to come out guns blazing, it seems I may be let down on that silly pipe dream. No sure you are running on fumes and just coasting into this match. Well when you see me hoist the title over your groggy head you will either dig deep into that pocket and pay for a refill, or decide that public transportation isn't so bad. Either way I will be your motivator, I will be your deciding factor, and in a strange way I can be your Savior TJ!!!
I flash a huge grin as I wave to the camera almost hoping TJ is somewhere watching closely. There is way more to this match then simply dealing with TJ, and that's where the challenge of this comes into play. I have been forced into his shoes before and no one to blame but myself, as does he. Like I mentioned , three other men have the hopes of their hand being raised at the sound of the bell. Now where is my sword again...
Lively: That brings me to the rest of you. I have a choice I could pick each one of you out by name and rattle off your inadequacies as a wrestler, I could systematically point out how I plan to dismantle you during this match, and I could explain the Chess Master like mindset that I possess that will find holes in all your games which I will inevitably exploit to bring about your defeat.
I shrug my shoulders at that option.
Lively: Or I could point out that the three other men in this match are out to prove something. Clinging at straws if you will, all of them struggling to get out from under neath the shadows of others. Williams born in the overcasting cloud of his fathers so called fame, found a home with the Dying Breed and honestly it was an easy transition for the guy. Same shit different day if you know what I mean. He traded one shadow for the next. Young Mannie and Logan Alexander are also trying to step out from shadows, in an attempt to make a name for them selves independently. I have to say I would be looking to do the same thing if I strolled into APW riding a woman's coat tails too, but then again I wouldn't of put myself in the situation to be a purse carrying bitch.
I shake my head with disgust.
Lively: And...Mannie, don't think I forgot about you. I see you over there trying your damnedest to get out from behind that big Red Shield!! You have tried to rebuild yourself over and over again. Retool something in hopes to legitimize yourself. I watch you trying to eliminate things from your life when people bring them up in a negative fashion. These things hurt you when you are already so vulnerable, you try to stuff them in a closet hoping no one will see them. I would have more respect for you had you thrown up your middle finger, puffed the joint and said "fuck what you think" while slapping a mother fucker dead in the face. Instead you see the mold, like so many you hop in it, hoping the BRASS will notice you. You, like Alexander, like Williams are all desperate for the attention. Some form of notoriety that this title may bring. You are all chomping at the bit to prove your status in APW...
I smile toward the crowd with a shit eating grin. You see I enjoy my job way too much. Every moment I get to soak up the attention of the world my hungry ego gets fed.
Lively: I on the other hand, have nothing to prove, nothing to lose...I'm just a guy doing what he loves to do, taking what ever I want along the way. I don't have nerves binding up my stomach. I don't have pressures of what could be weighing heavy on my mind. Desperation to prove to the world that I belong isn't something that will polute my mind when times get tough. I will simply enter this ring like I always do, look each one of you in the face, and confidently start to break your wills. The truth is you all NEED this title, where I just WANT it. Anything I have ever wanted, I have attained. Success comes so easy when you are calm, cool and collected. It just becomes a natural progression, and something I have grown accustomed to.
Again I switch cameras as the fans whimper at my non stop barrage of poison spewed from my lips.
Lively: There will be those who wish to spin my words for their gain in an attempt to convince themselves they aren't at a disadvantage. They will stick to some notion that my recent run in APW has been something to be ashamed of. Not one man inside this ring has scored a victory over Level One or CJ Gates, yet I beat both at once. No one in this match has achieved the pinnacle of success in APW like I have. Lets see a former North American champions, yep I did that, and did it first. A couple of former Tag Team champions, again first and with way more style. These men will also grasp at pathetic things like my arrogance will lead to a lack of drive, or that I don't have a hunger. You silly little kids haven't a clue. Never question my drive, because I have plenty of hunger! While you are all looking for self belief or validation, I am out stacking up championships, shitting on dreams, and having fun every step of the way. For me, drive is a secondary thing, a by product if you will. I am driven because I already know how fucking good I am, and its my pleasure to shove my greatness down your throats night in and night out. I wake up in the morning and think it would be a damn shame if i didn't do what i was born to do. I look at title matches like this as coming up completely short if i didn't insert myself I to the mix. I'm not some pup bouncing around looking for approval from a master who signs the checks and named himself after a natural disaster. With or without it, I still lace up these boots and bring the fucking heat. As for motivation, I am motivated only to break the wills of others, and tonight my target is you three. The championship belts along the way have just been tools of the trade, that work wonders on crushing egos. Since TJ has all but given up, I will take great pleasure in scribbling the three of your names onto my list of fragile egos that I have arrogantly crushed. There has never been a more humiliating and humbling sight, then a Baptism Of The Balls, when I set my nuts on your faces, consider your selves blessed, and washed anew.
I grab my balls with one hand while drooping the mic in the other the fans roar with hatred but seem to find comfort in the fact that I am no longer talking. I quickly toss the microphone over my shoulder and quickly whip my arms outward as my music erupts which in turn sparks these people into a frenzy. As if there was a sign above the ring giving direction they start to shoot vulgar words my direction. I smirk with a smart ass grin and roll out of the ring. As I walk up the ramp I can't help but get over run with confidence. I have no distractions, my mind completely focused on my task at hand. To win one of the few remaining championships I seem to be missing on my mantel. These guys all with numerous things clouding their minds, and hands full. Weighed down with the pressure of this evening. As I enter the back stage area distraction free I intend to head toward my locker room and prepare for another night of Michael Lively like glory!
Instead I am stopped dead in my tracks looking rather shocked by the sights my eyes behold. My mother...what in the world is she doing her, and why would she fly all this way just to undertake any of my antics or cruel treatment?
Lively: What in the hell are you doing here?
The look on her face is like nothing I have ever seem before. She just hesitates, as I tilt my head sideways looking for an answer. Before I can I ask her again, she moves closer placing her hands on my chest.
Terri Lively: M..Michael, I wanted to be, I need to tell you...
My patience wears thin as I grab her by the shoulders pushing her back looking her in the eyes.
Terri Lively: Michael your father is dead!!
I release my grip and look puzzled. I thought she was unsure of who my father was exactly? The news confuses me slightly and I am not sure how to handle what just punched me in the gut. I kind of just walk off towards my locker room to prepare for the match.
