Post by Nick Watson on Dec 17, 2010 0:00:44 GMT -4
*Long Island, New York, A Few Days Ago*
Madok: Can you believe what just happened in there?
It had been a long few weeks for the Cloud Chaser as he had been from meeting to meeting with training thrown in between to get himself prepped for the big match this at Massacre on 34th street. Or more like two matches. Madok knew that he was either going in to win or not do anything at all and as such he had been doing more and more conditioning training as to increase his stamina and endurance for the long road ahead. It would be difficult, Madok knew that, but that didn't stop him from believing that he could take it all. That he could walk out of Massacre with a clear cut victory and an Insane Championship around his waist, but that was the type of guy Madok was. Always looking to make it big regardless of the competition he was against.
Nicky: You knew you had this coming as soon as you challenged the censors of the APW.
Madok looked at the bill in his hand. It was a sizeable bill, $20,000 dollars worth of a bill to be exact, and it was all because Madok had cursed and spit like a complete and total dick. Madok of course had payed, he had taken out his wallet, and handed the man behind the desk $50,000 just for good measure. Promising to the man that there would be more obscenity and vulgarity to come, regardless of what the new IWC people wanted, Madok would do as he pleased, and if that meant cursing out every fucking dick in the IWC...then so fucking be it.
Madok: Could have been worse....they could have just out-right fired me for all the shit I have been pulling. The whole disrespect to the brand and shit like that.
Nicky: You were lucky they didn't.
Madok: Please! I knew that they wouldn't fire me. I'm the reason that the checks come out every week to unworthy fucks like Trevor Blackwell and Damian Dimitri. I'm the IWC's cash cow in more ways than one.
Nicky: What does that mean?
Madok looked at her as if she were the dimmest light bulb in the pack before walking away shaking his head. She would follow of course, wondering what exactly Madok had meant by the whole thing.
Nicky: Are you not going to tell me?
Madok: I'm a billionaire, Nicky. I have invested money into the companies future because I have the dollars to do so. This PPV is actually more of a joint effort between APW and Mortalis Incorporated than the paper will actually tell you.
Nicky: How much of an investment are we talking about?
Madok turns around and begins to walk backwards as he gives Nicky a large smile before replying.
Madok: Just a few thousand...it really is nothing major. It is actually great that they asked for my help in my opinion. It gives me more of a role in deciding this companies direction. Namely when it comes down to getting rid of certain individuals. Like the Blackwells. Seriously they have rubbed everyone in the corporation the wrong way with their next generation bull shit. Trevor is way too fucking old to be considered the next generation of anything except when it comes down to adult diaper advertisement. I mean lets face it, nobody can beat him in that department...even BDC is worse than he is when it comes to adult diapers. Then of course we got his entourage...or the bitch brigade as I like to call them. You got the giant fairy, Damian Dimitri.
I mean look at that guy's fucking hair! Who in their normal mind would want to...on second thought, he is not in a normal state of mind. You would have to be fucking retarded to follow Trevor Blackwell and case and point Damian fits that role. He is like a loyal dog, he barks when his master tells him to, and he is more than willing to play dead to allow Trevor to walk out with a championship around his waist. Shame that is never is going to happen. I mean, look at what we will miss out on! We will miss out on all of the fun things they do! Like Trevor putting an ice bag on his knees, or Damian covering himself in baby oil and then trying to put Trevor into some kind of submission maneuver. Fucking hell, these two are hardcore personified...hardcore gay that is.
If Trevor didn't get on his knees so much then he wouldn't have to ice them down and if Damian wasn't such a bitch ass fairy then he might actually make a point. Calling my Cloud Chasing a gay act...bitch doesn't know shit about me. Nobody does and that is why I am intimidating. No one knows how to prepare for a match against me because quite frankly...I'm a hardcore mother fucker. Forget all the non-sense dribble those two fags have been saying over the past week and it is clear as day what I am. I am as unpredictable as the fucking weather. One moment I'm a nice sunny day and the next I'm a God damn rain storm or a fucking snow flurry. The fact is...they don't know what is going to happen, and that of course leads me to the blind bitch, Kristina Blackwell.
She clearly has a chip on her shoulders, for what reason I don't know. Maybe it is because she is associated with the fairy squad or some shit like that because I don't see how one can be proud for beating talentless hacks....oh wait! I forgot, she still hasn't won a fucking match yet has she!? You see for the Blackwells to even come close to calling themselves the future then they have to at least have some sort of fucking proof that they are the future. Exclude the track records of the supposed "Paragon of Hardcore" and really they are a bunch of flickering images without any sort of talent or skill or anything. Everyone in APW views them like that, but because they happen to have a big stake in IWC as well with Trevor supposedly creating the show so long ago, they get cheered here. Yet, the funny thing is...I get the same amount of cheers. I guess talent does speak louder than words and apparently your's truly has plenty of talent.
Madok's back hits a lamp post as he nearly falls forward on his face. This causes Nicky to laugh and Nicky quickly goes quiet after the sudden outburst as soon as she sees Madok's face. Madok is not too happy with just happened, but he shrugs it off. As he continues to walk, face pointing forward this time.
Madok: Call the limo around would you? I would like to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible so I can meet up with Pence before he flies off to go participate in Christmas Chaos.
Nicky nods her head as she pulls out her cell phone and calls the driver, meanwhile Madok sits down on a bench, and shivers a bit as a blast of cold wind hits him. Madok tucks his jacket around him tightly as Nicky sits down right next to him as they wait for the limo to drive up.
Nicky: He is on his way. Got caught in some serious traffic.
Madok: It is alright, if anything I should give that driver a raise for the fine job he does. Quite honestly he is the best driver out of the forty that I have had in my life.
Nicky: You have had forty limo drivers...what happened to...
Madok: Don't ask. Lets just say it is hard to find competent help these days. Hell, that is what the IWC is going through right now. They can't find competent competition for their top tier athletes. I mean look at the battle royale for instance...all of these shitty wrestlers with a few bright spots thrown in to keep it all interesting. Quite frankly half of my competition for this match would be better if they didn't have a name and to just to further prove that point most of them have sent out little to no promotions for themselves...and can I blame them? I'm in this match after all...the fact is by myself I bring enough star power, but put Damian Dimitri, one of the biggest advocates for gay marriage and other vocalizations of fagdom, in the match, and you instantly have a crowd...a crowd composed of gays and intelligent people. Don't get me wrong...some of these other wrestlers have potential and in the future could be quite competent, but the fact of the matter...this is the now we are speaking of. This is not some fruity future dealt up by the imaginations of a group of retarded puppies...this is the now! You know...the time we live in. And in this battle royale there is no one bigger than me...in talent, not size.
I'm pretty sure James Chambers, that hulk of a human being, is actually the biggest man in the match. Not in dick size because quite honestly we know that I am packing the most heat in that regard, but in size and strength...I'm pretty sure James has everyone beat. How do you conquer something like that...I really draw blanks when I think about this. I know that I am a fast and innovative mother fucker who is quite capable of surprising and maybe even turning a few heads in this match, but when it comes down to it...I'm going to need a great deal of ring savvy to beat James Chambers regardless of what match type this is. In a battle royale however, I'm pretty sure James will be an early target. Wrestlers like him usually are. People with bright spots in their career before hand quite honestly are going to be on the chopping block the whole fucking night regardless of what is going on. James is such a man and that is why I believe it will be a swarm of guys throwing him over the top rope...regardless of his martial arts prowess or whatever the fuck he has.
Speaking of people with prowess...lets talk about someone who doesn't have any in Harry Durden. This guy looked like he was something special. A guy who was cut straight from the Pence Weatherlight mold and could fill his role in IWC quite nicely as a high tier talent, but then what happened? Disappointment. This guy has yet to send anything out, he has shown us no mic-skills, no in-ring displays, and worst of all he has shown us absolutely fucking nothing! But somehow this manages to allow him to enter into this match to qualify. For some fucking reason which I don't even know, he gets the shot. Maybe because Regi hopes he will turn into Pence Weatherlight over night and give us some Main Event buzz, but the sad thing is...that shit ain't happening. He is in a perilous no-man's land and let me tell you he most likely is not going to be giving us anything to cheer for this Sunday.
Speaking of not cheering for something on Sunday, lets talk about somebody so stupid that he forgot to even mention I was even in the match...fucking Anthony James. No offense to this kid, unlimited potential, and stuff like that, but when you can name such faggots like the guys he named, but not name the guy who is literally the best candidate to fight Trevor Blackwell in the Main Event and...win! Then seriously you have issues. Flying under the radar or not, I now know who I want to eliminate first...Anthony James made a serious enemy when he forgot about me that is all I got to say. For a heartbeat I thought he was good, but then when he forgot about me and went on a monologue of sorts...then I just completely forgot about everything I thought and was pissed to high heaven, but then again it is not hard to piss me off. Just ask Rico Casteel about how his head feels for the effort he put up against me to find out if I'm lying or not.
Speaking of lying, lets talk about Isabella for a second. I would be lying through my teeth if I didn't pop a boner when I start thinking about her...mostly inappropriately and in no clothing, but beyond that she has some talent. She is like me in many ways...a sexy woman version of me! She flies, she does anything she needs to win, and she also is feisty...lets just say the Invoker likes feisty and after the match I would love to show her some "in-ring maneuvers" that will indefinitely make her scream in tongues, but that is after. During the match...I'm going to play it safe with her. Not falling for her tricks is a good start and just playing my game...which just happens to be similar to hers in most ways. Meh, it was bound to happen that I would meet a wrestler who fights like me sooner or later, and what a treat for me that it is a sexy lady.
Speaking of ladies that leads me outside of my match...I hope you don't mind if I rant and spew a little more do you?
Madok looked at Nicky who was clearly listening to every word as she shook her head. She knew better than to stop Madok now. She didn't want to end up unemployed after all. Madok continued after she had gave him the go ahead.
Madok: Alright, lets wrap this up quickly because I know you would rather be doing something else...anyway, the ladies outside of my match are quite simply everyone else who is not in the royale. None of these fuckers have what it takes...not Trevor, not the Gambler, not Jason, not Chris, not Delilah, and sadly...not Arcadia. Its just how things go I guess, but in the end there can only be one Insane Champion and I promise that I am going to be that guy and to the rest of them I've only got two words to say...fuck off. Oh and Damian...you might want to work on not sucking before Sunday because unlike Trevor...I am not old and I can slip out of cheap ass submission maneuvers...
Madok snaps his fingers.
Madok: Just like that. Anyway a special fuck off to you, Damian.
The scene fades to black as a limo begins to pull around the corner.
*Scene fades to black*
Madok: Can you believe what just happened in there?
It had been a long few weeks for the Cloud Chaser as he had been from meeting to meeting with training thrown in between to get himself prepped for the big match this at Massacre on 34th street. Or more like two matches. Madok knew that he was either going in to win or not do anything at all and as such he had been doing more and more conditioning training as to increase his stamina and endurance for the long road ahead. It would be difficult, Madok knew that, but that didn't stop him from believing that he could take it all. That he could walk out of Massacre with a clear cut victory and an Insane Championship around his waist, but that was the type of guy Madok was. Always looking to make it big regardless of the competition he was against.
Nicky: You knew you had this coming as soon as you challenged the censors of the APW.
Madok looked at the bill in his hand. It was a sizeable bill, $20,000 dollars worth of a bill to be exact, and it was all because Madok had cursed and spit like a complete and total dick. Madok of course had payed, he had taken out his wallet, and handed the man behind the desk $50,000 just for good measure. Promising to the man that there would be more obscenity and vulgarity to come, regardless of what the new IWC people wanted, Madok would do as he pleased, and if that meant cursing out every fucking dick in the IWC...then so fucking be it.
Madok: Could have been worse....they could have just out-right fired me for all the shit I have been pulling. The whole disrespect to the brand and shit like that.
Nicky: You were lucky they didn't.
Madok: Please! I knew that they wouldn't fire me. I'm the reason that the checks come out every week to unworthy fucks like Trevor Blackwell and Damian Dimitri. I'm the IWC's cash cow in more ways than one.
Nicky: What does that mean?
Madok looked at her as if she were the dimmest light bulb in the pack before walking away shaking his head. She would follow of course, wondering what exactly Madok had meant by the whole thing.
Nicky: Are you not going to tell me?
Madok: I'm a billionaire, Nicky. I have invested money into the companies future because I have the dollars to do so. This PPV is actually more of a joint effort between APW and Mortalis Incorporated than the paper will actually tell you.
Nicky: How much of an investment are we talking about?
Madok turns around and begins to walk backwards as he gives Nicky a large smile before replying.
Madok: Just a few thousand...it really is nothing major. It is actually great that they asked for my help in my opinion. It gives me more of a role in deciding this companies direction. Namely when it comes down to getting rid of certain individuals. Like the Blackwells. Seriously they have rubbed everyone in the corporation the wrong way with their next generation bull shit. Trevor is way too fucking old to be considered the next generation of anything except when it comes down to adult diaper advertisement. I mean lets face it, nobody can beat him in that department...even BDC is worse than he is when it comes to adult diapers. Then of course we got his entourage...or the bitch brigade as I like to call them. You got the giant fairy, Damian Dimitri.
I mean look at that guy's fucking hair! Who in their normal mind would want to...on second thought, he is not in a normal state of mind. You would have to be fucking retarded to follow Trevor Blackwell and case and point Damian fits that role. He is like a loyal dog, he barks when his master tells him to, and he is more than willing to play dead to allow Trevor to walk out with a championship around his waist. Shame that is never is going to happen. I mean, look at what we will miss out on! We will miss out on all of the fun things they do! Like Trevor putting an ice bag on his knees, or Damian covering himself in baby oil and then trying to put Trevor into some kind of submission maneuver. Fucking hell, these two are hardcore personified...hardcore gay that is.
If Trevor didn't get on his knees so much then he wouldn't have to ice them down and if Damian wasn't such a bitch ass fairy then he might actually make a point. Calling my Cloud Chasing a gay act...bitch doesn't know shit about me. Nobody does and that is why I am intimidating. No one knows how to prepare for a match against me because quite frankly...I'm a hardcore mother fucker. Forget all the non-sense dribble those two fags have been saying over the past week and it is clear as day what I am. I am as unpredictable as the fucking weather. One moment I'm a nice sunny day and the next I'm a God damn rain storm or a fucking snow flurry. The fact is...they don't know what is going to happen, and that of course leads me to the blind bitch, Kristina Blackwell.
She clearly has a chip on her shoulders, for what reason I don't know. Maybe it is because she is associated with the fairy squad or some shit like that because I don't see how one can be proud for beating talentless hacks....oh wait! I forgot, she still hasn't won a fucking match yet has she!? You see for the Blackwells to even come close to calling themselves the future then they have to at least have some sort of fucking proof that they are the future. Exclude the track records of the supposed "Paragon of Hardcore" and really they are a bunch of flickering images without any sort of talent or skill or anything. Everyone in APW views them like that, but because they happen to have a big stake in IWC as well with Trevor supposedly creating the show so long ago, they get cheered here. Yet, the funny thing is...I get the same amount of cheers. I guess talent does speak louder than words and apparently your's truly has plenty of talent.
Madok's back hits a lamp post as he nearly falls forward on his face. This causes Nicky to laugh and Nicky quickly goes quiet after the sudden outburst as soon as she sees Madok's face. Madok is not too happy with just happened, but he shrugs it off. As he continues to walk, face pointing forward this time.
Madok: Call the limo around would you? I would like to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible so I can meet up with Pence before he flies off to go participate in Christmas Chaos.
Nicky nods her head as she pulls out her cell phone and calls the driver, meanwhile Madok sits down on a bench, and shivers a bit as a blast of cold wind hits him. Madok tucks his jacket around him tightly as Nicky sits down right next to him as they wait for the limo to drive up.
Nicky: He is on his way. Got caught in some serious traffic.
Madok: It is alright, if anything I should give that driver a raise for the fine job he does. Quite honestly he is the best driver out of the forty that I have had in my life.
Nicky: You have had forty limo drivers...what happened to...
Madok: Don't ask. Lets just say it is hard to find competent help these days. Hell, that is what the IWC is going through right now. They can't find competent competition for their top tier athletes. I mean look at the battle royale for instance...all of these shitty wrestlers with a few bright spots thrown in to keep it all interesting. Quite frankly half of my competition for this match would be better if they didn't have a name and to just to further prove that point most of them have sent out little to no promotions for themselves...and can I blame them? I'm in this match after all...the fact is by myself I bring enough star power, but put Damian Dimitri, one of the biggest advocates for gay marriage and other vocalizations of fagdom, in the match, and you instantly have a crowd...a crowd composed of gays and intelligent people. Don't get me wrong...some of these other wrestlers have potential and in the future could be quite competent, but the fact of the matter...this is the now we are speaking of. This is not some fruity future dealt up by the imaginations of a group of retarded puppies...this is the now! You know...the time we live in. And in this battle royale there is no one bigger than me...in talent, not size.
I'm pretty sure James Chambers, that hulk of a human being, is actually the biggest man in the match. Not in dick size because quite honestly we know that I am packing the most heat in that regard, but in size and strength...I'm pretty sure James has everyone beat. How do you conquer something like that...I really draw blanks when I think about this. I know that I am a fast and innovative mother fucker who is quite capable of surprising and maybe even turning a few heads in this match, but when it comes down to it...I'm going to need a great deal of ring savvy to beat James Chambers regardless of what match type this is. In a battle royale however, I'm pretty sure James will be an early target. Wrestlers like him usually are. People with bright spots in their career before hand quite honestly are going to be on the chopping block the whole fucking night regardless of what is going on. James is such a man and that is why I believe it will be a swarm of guys throwing him over the top rope...regardless of his martial arts prowess or whatever the fuck he has.
Speaking of people with prowess...lets talk about someone who doesn't have any in Harry Durden. This guy looked like he was something special. A guy who was cut straight from the Pence Weatherlight mold and could fill his role in IWC quite nicely as a high tier talent, but then what happened? Disappointment. This guy has yet to send anything out, he has shown us no mic-skills, no in-ring displays, and worst of all he has shown us absolutely fucking nothing! But somehow this manages to allow him to enter into this match to qualify. For some fucking reason which I don't even know, he gets the shot. Maybe because Regi hopes he will turn into Pence Weatherlight over night and give us some Main Event buzz, but the sad thing is...that shit ain't happening. He is in a perilous no-man's land and let me tell you he most likely is not going to be giving us anything to cheer for this Sunday.
Speaking of not cheering for something on Sunday, lets talk about somebody so stupid that he forgot to even mention I was even in the match...fucking Anthony James. No offense to this kid, unlimited potential, and stuff like that, but when you can name such faggots like the guys he named, but not name the guy who is literally the best candidate to fight Trevor Blackwell in the Main Event and...win! Then seriously you have issues. Flying under the radar or not, I now know who I want to eliminate first...Anthony James made a serious enemy when he forgot about me that is all I got to say. For a heartbeat I thought he was good, but then when he forgot about me and went on a monologue of sorts...then I just completely forgot about everything I thought and was pissed to high heaven, but then again it is not hard to piss me off. Just ask Rico Casteel about how his head feels for the effort he put up against me to find out if I'm lying or not.
Speaking of lying, lets talk about Isabella for a second. I would be lying through my teeth if I didn't pop a boner when I start thinking about her...mostly inappropriately and in no clothing, but beyond that she has some talent. She is like me in many ways...a sexy woman version of me! She flies, she does anything she needs to win, and she also is feisty...lets just say the Invoker likes feisty and after the match I would love to show her some "in-ring maneuvers" that will indefinitely make her scream in tongues, but that is after. During the match...I'm going to play it safe with her. Not falling for her tricks is a good start and just playing my game...which just happens to be similar to hers in most ways. Meh, it was bound to happen that I would meet a wrestler who fights like me sooner or later, and what a treat for me that it is a sexy lady.
Speaking of ladies that leads me outside of my match...I hope you don't mind if I rant and spew a little more do you?
Madok looked at Nicky who was clearly listening to every word as she shook her head. She knew better than to stop Madok now. She didn't want to end up unemployed after all. Madok continued after she had gave him the go ahead.
Madok: Alright, lets wrap this up quickly because I know you would rather be doing something else...anyway, the ladies outside of my match are quite simply everyone else who is not in the royale. None of these fuckers have what it takes...not Trevor, not the Gambler, not Jason, not Chris, not Delilah, and sadly...not Arcadia. Its just how things go I guess, but in the end there can only be one Insane Champion and I promise that I am going to be that guy and to the rest of them I've only got two words to say...fuck off. Oh and Damian...you might want to work on not sucking before Sunday because unlike Trevor...I am not old and I can slip out of cheap ass submission maneuvers...
Madok snaps his fingers.
Madok: Just like that. Anyway a special fuck off to you, Damian.
The scene fades to black as a limo begins to pull around the corner.
*Scene fades to black*
