Post by JD Storm on Jul 13, 2011 0:30:25 GMT -4
Scene opens in a dimly lit room. Smoke can be seen rising in the little bit of light that’s available. A spotlight illuminates a generic looking poker table. A card dispenser is set up at the right hand side of the dealer’s spot, full of cards. Standing in the dealer’s spot is the Gambler. Across the table from him are two tall chairs.
Gambler
Evening, gentlemen. Ready for the game? I certainly hope so. We’ve got a hell of a three-way set up. In one corner, a paper champion. In the second corner, the unluckiest man currently holding an APW Contract. In the third and final corner is your soon-to-be Suicidal Champion and, quite honestly, one of the greatest things to happen in APW during the last year……..me! We’ve got a match involving one of APW’s hottest feuds, in recent history. Well, I shouldn’t call it a feud, per se, as it’s been more like a lopsided ass kicking. Just to make everyone feel better, I’ll just call it a “hot feud” anyway. This feud, obviously, involves myself thumping the one and only Chris Cyrus.
Over the course of several months, Cyrus has been nothing more then a crash test dummy; a dummy that’s been in one too many crash tests. The tackling dummy that should’ve been put into retirement along time ago like an old antique. Perhaps the dumpster would be a better choice. That’s were old, broken, useless junk usually goes. Unless you work here. Seems as though APW has turned into a hoarders paradise, with Hurricane Jeff & Reginald being the kings of the garbage pile. Instead of watching Asylum or Overdrive, APW fans should just be watching A&E on a nightly basis. There’s always an overabundance of episodes.
Just like any episode of Hoarders, there’s always a certain level of cleaning that takes place. Trash is thrown. People stop being so attached to their crap. They realize that they need to get rid of their trash, not only for their own good. It’s done for the good of all those that they care about, the good of those that may live with them. Perhaps it’s so they can get their kids back. Maybe they can use this as a chance to get a spouse to return.
Whatever the reason, the trash is tossed, disposed of forever. Like any good Hoarders episode, there needs to be that one person who intervenes, typically a therapist specializing in such problems. Lucky for everyone here, I’ll be doing the intervention. Lord knows I’m an expert at it. Had enough damned interventions in my life, but that’s for another day. First time I’ve ever been in an intervention unrelated to drinking, gambling or unclean women. Certainly the first time I’ve been on this end of the intervention. Again, I’ll save that for another time.
APW, and more importantly, Asylum, get their much needed intervention on Sunday. Won’t be easy. Certainly won’t be pretty. Treatments are often long, drawn out affairs. Part of the treatment ends at Shockwave in a Deuces Wild Match, making a pit stop at Asylum, this Sunday. While I’ll do my damnedest to treat APW of it’s disease, there’s still a Wild Card to contend with. Alright, it’s not much of a wild card. It’s rather pathetic, honestly speaking. Still an important part of the equation, though. Could prove to be a dark horse, if I’m not careful.
After all, our dark horse has the most to gain. Isamu Suzuki, after all, has the most to lose. Either myself or Cyrus wins and he loses everything. The money, the fame and the Suicidal Championship. Isamu Suzuki….I think I used to own one of those things, in my younger days. Damned crotch rockets; never did see how anyone could get into those things. Nothing but a bucket of bolts.
Isamu, you’re about as generic as every piece of crap Suzuki that’s ever been built. There’s truly nothing special about you. Just some punk kid that came from nothing with the hope that he could finally be something. Kid, I’ll give you props. You’ve made a hell of a gamble. You had little to wage with. Little at a time, you kept making bigger and bigger bets. Placing the long shots, you kept walking away with some pretty nice earnings. Finally, after many years in squalor, you finally made it to the big time. It took a lot of blood, sweat and Saki, but you finally did it.
You even managed to convince a few people that you were a High Roller by winning the Suicidal Championship at Mayhem. Defeating Rico Casteel and James Chambers is impressive for such a young, inexperienced kid. Taking the Suicidal Championship from under their noses is actually pretty cool. Though, I doubt you ever saw the impending irony of your victory. Sweet irony it’ll be. Just like you had to beat Chambers to take the gold away from Rico, I’m not even bothering to pin your sorry ass for the title. I’m personally going to enjoy the irony when everyone sees that you lose the Gold in the same fashion that Rico lost he gold.
Then again, maybe I will give you the dignity of beating you outright. Don’t need you pissing and moaning that you were never pinned or forced to tap out. That, and I don’t want to give away the ending of my Shockwave match early by pinning Cyrus for the title. Nobody will want to buy the pay-per-view if they know in advance that he’s got no chance in actually winning.
Speaking of chances and odds, I want to break down the current odds, according to Vegas. Triple threat match. Two other men fighting you for the Suicidal Championship. Only one man can walk out with the gold. Only way you can leave Asylum as Champion, Isamu, is if lightening manages to strike twice. You have better odds of winning the lottery then pulling off a triple threat victory, again, with your title on the line.
As for you, Cyrus, you’ll have to chalk this up as another lost title opportunity. Instead of interfering in a match, I’ll do the job directly this time around. No sucker punching you. No sneaking up from behind. This time around, I’ll rob you of the title by doing it in the middle of the ring. I won’t even need my best hand to do it. All I need is the Hitchcock. Not sure what a Hitchcock is? Google it, net geeks.
I’ll be doing some house cleaning on Sunday. We’re going to need the shelf space for something useful. Instead of the clutter that’s been building up around Asylum, we’re going to keep only nice stuff….such as my new Suicidal Championship.
Lots of luck, ladies. You’ll need it.
Gambler grabs some cards from the card dispenser and tosses them at the camera. The lights go down as the scene ends.
Gambler
Evening, gentlemen. Ready for the game? I certainly hope so. We’ve got a hell of a three-way set up. In one corner, a paper champion. In the second corner, the unluckiest man currently holding an APW Contract. In the third and final corner is your soon-to-be Suicidal Champion and, quite honestly, one of the greatest things to happen in APW during the last year……..me! We’ve got a match involving one of APW’s hottest feuds, in recent history. Well, I shouldn’t call it a feud, per se, as it’s been more like a lopsided ass kicking. Just to make everyone feel better, I’ll just call it a “hot feud” anyway. This feud, obviously, involves myself thumping the one and only Chris Cyrus.
Over the course of several months, Cyrus has been nothing more then a crash test dummy; a dummy that’s been in one too many crash tests. The tackling dummy that should’ve been put into retirement along time ago like an old antique. Perhaps the dumpster would be a better choice. That’s were old, broken, useless junk usually goes. Unless you work here. Seems as though APW has turned into a hoarders paradise, with Hurricane Jeff & Reginald being the kings of the garbage pile. Instead of watching Asylum or Overdrive, APW fans should just be watching A&E on a nightly basis. There’s always an overabundance of episodes.
Just like any episode of Hoarders, there’s always a certain level of cleaning that takes place. Trash is thrown. People stop being so attached to their crap. They realize that they need to get rid of their trash, not only for their own good. It’s done for the good of all those that they care about, the good of those that may live with them. Perhaps it’s so they can get their kids back. Maybe they can use this as a chance to get a spouse to return.
Whatever the reason, the trash is tossed, disposed of forever. Like any good Hoarders episode, there needs to be that one person who intervenes, typically a therapist specializing in such problems. Lucky for everyone here, I’ll be doing the intervention. Lord knows I’m an expert at it. Had enough damned interventions in my life, but that’s for another day. First time I’ve ever been in an intervention unrelated to drinking, gambling or unclean women. Certainly the first time I’ve been on this end of the intervention. Again, I’ll save that for another time.
APW, and more importantly, Asylum, get their much needed intervention on Sunday. Won’t be easy. Certainly won’t be pretty. Treatments are often long, drawn out affairs. Part of the treatment ends at Shockwave in a Deuces Wild Match, making a pit stop at Asylum, this Sunday. While I’ll do my damnedest to treat APW of it’s disease, there’s still a Wild Card to contend with. Alright, it’s not much of a wild card. It’s rather pathetic, honestly speaking. Still an important part of the equation, though. Could prove to be a dark horse, if I’m not careful.
After all, our dark horse has the most to gain. Isamu Suzuki, after all, has the most to lose. Either myself or Cyrus wins and he loses everything. The money, the fame and the Suicidal Championship. Isamu Suzuki….I think I used to own one of those things, in my younger days. Damned crotch rockets; never did see how anyone could get into those things. Nothing but a bucket of bolts.
Isamu, you’re about as generic as every piece of crap Suzuki that’s ever been built. There’s truly nothing special about you. Just some punk kid that came from nothing with the hope that he could finally be something. Kid, I’ll give you props. You’ve made a hell of a gamble. You had little to wage with. Little at a time, you kept making bigger and bigger bets. Placing the long shots, you kept walking away with some pretty nice earnings. Finally, after many years in squalor, you finally made it to the big time. It took a lot of blood, sweat and Saki, but you finally did it.
You even managed to convince a few people that you were a High Roller by winning the Suicidal Championship at Mayhem. Defeating Rico Casteel and James Chambers is impressive for such a young, inexperienced kid. Taking the Suicidal Championship from under their noses is actually pretty cool. Though, I doubt you ever saw the impending irony of your victory. Sweet irony it’ll be. Just like you had to beat Chambers to take the gold away from Rico, I’m not even bothering to pin your sorry ass for the title. I’m personally going to enjoy the irony when everyone sees that you lose the Gold in the same fashion that Rico lost he gold.
Then again, maybe I will give you the dignity of beating you outright. Don’t need you pissing and moaning that you were never pinned or forced to tap out. That, and I don’t want to give away the ending of my Shockwave match early by pinning Cyrus for the title. Nobody will want to buy the pay-per-view if they know in advance that he’s got no chance in actually winning.
Speaking of chances and odds, I want to break down the current odds, according to Vegas. Triple threat match. Two other men fighting you for the Suicidal Championship. Only one man can walk out with the gold. Only way you can leave Asylum as Champion, Isamu, is if lightening manages to strike twice. You have better odds of winning the lottery then pulling off a triple threat victory, again, with your title on the line.
As for you, Cyrus, you’ll have to chalk this up as another lost title opportunity. Instead of interfering in a match, I’ll do the job directly this time around. No sucker punching you. No sneaking up from behind. This time around, I’ll rob you of the title by doing it in the middle of the ring. I won’t even need my best hand to do it. All I need is the Hitchcock. Not sure what a Hitchcock is? Google it, net geeks.
I’ll be doing some house cleaning on Sunday. We’re going to need the shelf space for something useful. Instead of the clutter that’s been building up around Asylum, we’re going to keep only nice stuff….such as my new Suicidal Championship.
Lots of luck, ladies. You’ll need it.
Gambler grabs some cards from the card dispenser and tosses them at the camera. The lights go down as the scene ends.
