Post by Matt Slater on Jan 30, 2012 10:44:47 GMT -4
OOC: This is my RP for the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament over in VWF, but I wanted to post it here too, as it has some sufficient information for Slater's future role in APW. Hope you enjoy it. 
Saturday January 28th 2012
Oakland, California
‘Pugh Championship Wrestling is closing down.’
With a dismal glance, Ryan Pugh validated the seriousness of this abysmal situation towards Matt Slater, who stood opposing the owner of this wrestling conglomerate in the Oracle Arena; an ironic venue considering that Oracle’s were deemed precognitive predictors of the future, and no one had foresaw the deconstruction of PCW in this questionable fashion. But strangely, this wasn’t taking place in an office environment; it was taking place in the actual ring for PCW itself.
‘We’re going to cancel our productions, including Insanity, which was supposed to happen tomorrow night. However, all of the talent will have the option of competing in Underground Pro Wrestling ... or New Edge Wrestling, whichever they prefer.’
Slater didn’t bother to ask about the enigmatic occurrences which had led to this decision. He simply remained silent, watching as Pugh reached for a folder on his desk and flipped it open.
‘I’ve organized your release papers here...’ he said, attempting not to choke on the cigarette smoke he had briefly inhaled. ‘If you’re willing to compete in the Underground, then I can add an extra page from the batch that has been printed off.’
Changing his peripheral vision slightly, Slater noted the stack of documents that had been carefully compiled for those who agreed to the proposition of wrestling in UPW. Pugh studied Slater for a moment as his former employee nodded, indicating that he was indeed interested.
‘We’ve always had our differences but...’ Pugh said as he collected one of the pages and stuck it inside Slater’s personal folder, but he abruptly paused through emotion; the entire impact of PCW’s demise had not sunk in as much as people had comprehended so far, something which Slater was observantly aware of. ‘... Well ... I’ve always respected your abilities as a wrestler, and I feel you’ve made a good decision.’
Pugh stood from his chair and handed the folder over to Slater, the two locking eyes with one another as the transaction came to pass, which Pugh slightly smiled at. Slater was certain that the softness and calmness of his demeanour and attitude had been attributed from his company’s impending closure, and that he felt compelled to act in a manner that he wasn’t commonly used to; albeit with a solemn exterior.
He was one of the authority figures that believed Pugh Championship Wrestling would avoid this kind of erasure, as if it was an invulnerable organization that would continue to flourish and bloom into a monolithic company. Now it was on the verge of going away, with no chance of a secondary resurrection taking place any time soon.
Yet perhaps there was more to this story than Pugh was willingly exposing; or so Slater assumed as Pugh sat back down, looking at the Youngblood Championship which Slater gripped in his right hand.
‘Unfortunately, before you leave this arena, you will need to hand over your title.’
Having understood the lethality of these circumstances and consequences, Slater didn’t hesitate to raise the championship up and drop it onto Pugh’s desk. But in his mind, he knew he was going to be recorded as the last man who held that accolade – undefeated too, to be more technical – and he also realized that his ambitious quests regarding that championship were going to be null and void. He wanted to increase its prestigious acknowledgment by his objectives alone. He had even been the sole survivor of the War Games Match at World War X as the Youngblood Champion.
But now, the certainty of its expansive apparel couldn’t be questioned; it was merely going to be a championship to store away as an artefact that detailed the history of New Edge Wrestling, which it formerly came from.
Slater knew he could keep a replication of the championship, but it wouldn’t be the same. Furthermore, he had nowhere to keep it stored, being a drifter without a permanent home. Perhaps that was something he needed to rectify ... maybe with Cera by his side as they shared the habitual accommodation in a location of their choosing.
‘Thanks, Slater. You’re free to leave now. I’ll see you on the other side ... oh, and one more thing. Good luck in the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament. I’m sure you’ll make us proud.’
Those were Pugh’s final words to Slater as he went back to his important paperwork, Slater not objecting to the forced dismissal and deciding to leave appropriately through the woven ropes.
Unbeknownst to Pugh, Slater wasn’t representing any of his organizations in the tournament; it was just that his company affiliation was a compulsory detail he needed to write down. He had joined-up to set his own ascension into motion, and not slip into the depths of obscurity and damnation like the very company he was now leaving. It had been his comprehensive ambition for weeks now, his passionate obligation to craft and secure; his lonesome objective that would single-handedly appease a career that had suffered through injustice and betrayal too many times to count.
Ascension; no greater reward had tempted him so definitively. The splendour and prestige of being the absolute best, of being regaled and adulated by the supportive individuals that continued to elevate the exposure of the wrestling industry, of simply being second to none; that was what kept him motivated and driven, to manifest those dreams into reality and to liberate himself from the depths of ridicule and mediocrity.
But it wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing was ever that easy.
The only easy thing was that he had been given his release from PCW, and he had earned his way into UPW with one simplistic nod.
However, there was one more organization that Slater was tempted to compete in, and all it would take was one flight to Miami to make his acquisition there possible.
Sunday January 29th 2012
Miami, Florida
Whilst the likes of Kurt Noble, CJ Gates, Johnny Rebel, Level-One and the temporarily available Sally Talfourd were diligently preparing to accomplish their individual tasks of being the lonesome victor against eighty-five other competitors in the Survive & Conquer Match, Matt Slater was backstage inside the American Airlines Arena for an entirely different purpose. He only needed to locate one key person for his unplanned visitation here to achieve its fruitful results. And after finding the correct room of authority, entering its interior confines without being courteous or cordial, Slater knew instantly that he had located his man of urgency.
That man was President Jeff, otherwise known as Hurricane Jeff in some other partnered wrestling communities, the operative owner and commissioner of Action Packed Wrestling.
‘Were you properly raised with manners?’ Jeff rhetorically enquired sternly, agitated by Slater’s sudden arrival. ‘Every person should knock beforehand to alert me of their presence.’
‘That simplistic method of awareness seemed to slip my mind...’ Slater replied bluntly, subsequently reaching into his jean’s pocket and pulling out a folded batch of documents which he quickly threw onto Jeff’s desk.
‘And what are these supposed to be?’ Jeff asked, peering at the documents with an expression of confusion.
‘Termination papers from Pugh Championship Wrestling, my previous employer...’ Slater explained. ‘Their closure is currently pending, but my contractual obligations have already been invalidated.’
‘What do you think I am, some kind of law officer?’
‘From what I’ve heard of you Jeff I know you’re a smart man. You can figure out my presence here fairly quickly ... if you would subdue the tumultuous affairs of Survive & Conquer from your mind momentarily.’
Jeff properly acknowledged the papers after this comment from Slater, not being the least bit discreet as he wordlessly mouthed out passages from the official text. As he turned a page, Jeff closed his mouth and gradually leant his head forward, obviously glancing at one portion of the document that had caught his attention.
‘It says here that you’ll be transferred over to Underground Pro Wrestling once Pugh Championship Wrestling has finalized its dealings...’
‘I’m not being detained by an exclusive contract though...’ Slater responded. ‘You could say I’d like to ... expand upon my newly-formulated horizons by incorporating a change of scenery into my future projects.’
‘This means you’ve shown a keen interest in APW and would like to wrestle here too...’ Jeff concluded as he nodded accordingly. He then finished his detailed analysis of the papers and warily studied Slater, visually thinking about what to do before he exhaled. ‘I’ll tell you what ... if you can be here for the next Overdrive, I’ll sanction you a trial.’
‘I don’t need any trials, Jeff...’
‘It’s to prove if you’ll be a committable asset, not a detriment. I’ve heard stories about you...’
‘Those stories will soon be falsified and erased,’ Slater replied coldly. ‘I’m not fond of people who continuously criticize my ventures for implausible reasons. Plus, you might also know that I’m participating in the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament, with the possibility of going against some of your acclaimed stars in fact.’
‘I have heard that, yes...’ Jeff answered coolly. ‘But for now, I’ll put you on our “pending approval” listings. Turn up for Overdrive next week, and compete. How you do will decide your future here in APW. That is all I ask.’
‘Then I’ll accept the trial...’ Slater said with a tone of approval before he leant forward and collected his papers, turning around to exit Jeff’s office. That was, however, until Jeff delayed his evacuation.
‘I suppose you’re not staying to watch Survive & Conquer this evening then?’
‘On the contrary...’ Slater said as a noticeable smirk formed on his face, ‘... I’ll be watching from afar in one of the press boxes. I am a man who likes to research what he could potentially be up against ... and who he has to be extra vigilant of.’
‘And those fans you apparently despise?’ Jeff enquired again but with deeper clarity, really wanting to get Slater’s answer.
‘... They’ll be tolerated. But soon they’ll learn ... they’ll all learn...
Jeff nodded again, although Slater didn’t notice. Instead Slater turned the handle to the door and opened it without looking back around, purposefully strolling away and allowing the door to shut behind him on its own.
This closure symbolized the finalization of their meeting, but Slater understood that soon enough future occurrences would have them interact again; perhaps with an official contract on that very desk for Slater to sign without reluctance or disapproval.
But now, he was only focused on one more thing that needed his immediate attention.
The CWC Invitational Tournament that would begin for him on February 5th in Chicago, Illinois.
Monday January 30th 2012
Miami, Florida
‘Shockingly conquered!’ Slater vociferously announced away from the camera just as he flicked his finished cigarette over the balcony rail, rubbing his hands as he continues to focus on the inaudible occurrences of a morning in Miami that still show remnants of frost and condensation from the typically cold weather at this time of year. ‘That’s the burdening slogan which Action Packed Wrestling will have to bear for the next year. Unbeknownst to them all, a complete unknown, a miniscule threat, at least according to numerous reports evaluating the Survive & Conquer Match, rose to the occasion and ascended to the top as eighty-five other individuals fell in defeat. Alioth Starre ... what a tremendous victory for you. I have to admit you were the dark horse coming into this thing, but you proved that you shouldn’t be criticized and doubted by the legions of supporters that are still helping our industry flourish ... even under controversial circumstances. As for you Azrael Goeren ... well, I expected more from you in all honesty. A great wrestler such as yourself shouldn’t be playing second fiddle, collapsing at the last hurdle, but I guess we can’t win them all, can we ... mein freund?’
Slater chuckles after sharing his use of the German language, all before slapping his palm down onto the rail to soundly annunciate his change in tone.
‘But that is where I come in. I’m sure you’re all aware by now about the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament that will be taking place soon enough, and if you’re not then you need to start paying closer attention to the happenings of the world. This Tournament is going to feature various wrestlers from different companies fighting for the chance to be somebody, to get noticed more so than usual, to exceed people’s expectations and expand their own horizons. Or maybe it’s just for them to win the CWC World Heavyweight Championship, if that’s their desired motive. I’m telling you all right now ... I’m not in this to represent a single company. I’m not in this to make allies. I’m not in this to make friends. I am in this for my own sole priorities and benefits. Selfish ... perhaps it is, but why risk falling in defeat through the mistake of emotion, like Kurt Noble did?’
‘Moving on with my current address, I’m supposed to be taking part in a Preliminary Match to enter the actual Tournament in the VWF on February 5th, in Chicago, Illinois. My opponents will be Bobby Dean, from New Era Wrestling, and the current VWF World Heavyweight Champion, Jonny Cedrone. We all have nothing in common ... except for one key aspect that my opponents share. They were raised, tutored and still reside in Las Vegas, Nevada. Vegas ... the proclaimed “Sin City”, a “Gambler’s Paradise” of booze, women and money. Know what I call it? A cesspool of human idiocy. That’s what bothers me about addictive gamblers that can’t accept their losses, instead trying in vain to somehow redeem a sense of dignity and pride by walking away with a small amount of cash, to gluttonously gamble until their finances have turned into unmanageable debts ... but of course I digress.’
This is the point where Slater turns his attention to the mounted camera, his eyes filled with inner determination and malice, the kind he is slowly developing and on the verge of exuding in Chicago.
‘Now obviously, there’s a difference in emotions regarding these two individuals ... but at the end of the day, it isn’t going to matter. It isn’t going to create a semblance of change. The people in Vegas that Dean and Cedrone probably know might as well compare their betting losses to those two falling at my feet at VWF Crucifixion. Those environmental familiarizations of going against the odds, of holding on until all the cards are on the table, of rolling the dice and hoping for the best ... they won’t help them against a competitor like me. Your support of Cedrone won’t manifest any alterations that will help him brutalize myself and Dean, who you all seem to hate due to his arrogant, pompous nature, believing he’s the superior man. Well both won’t be superior once our match has reached its devastating conclusion, where their demise will be orchestrated and chronicled, and where my further inclusion in the Ascension Invitational Tournament will be solidified.’
‘Cedrone ... I’ll give him credit, he’s a proficient wrestler, and he has victoriously achieved numerous accolades that can’t go unnoticed, but I’m a different kind of wrestler that Cedrone can’t begin to evaluate or comprehend. He might be an impressive champion, but I’m an even more impressive competitor. He changed his ways not too long ago, transforming himself into a kind-hearted, spiritual warrior that formerly stood as an aristocratic, self-centred, self-righteous egomaniac, and from that ... he’s gotten soft. He doesn’t show that tenacity anymore, that act of fortitude to show he earned that ego with the deepest of regards. Now if he could show a small fragment of ruthlessness and aggression, then I might consider him an able adversary, but the fact remains that just like Alioth Starre at Survive & Conquer, I’m going to walk into his home territory and decimate him beyond repair before attaining the victory. It’s a predictable comparison that’s bound to come true. I’ll make sure of it.’
‘As for you Dean ... you really do love to toot your own horn. You’ve come up with these masterful schemes that mirror insanity and psychotic ... yet you still retain some kind of humanity? Sure your morality is nowhere to be seen, but for a man who spends his time avoiding fights and “being smart”, as you like to call it, I’m not expecting you to last. You may have won championships like Cedrone, but titles and resumes aren’t going to be shared. You might as well just lay down flat and take a beating because that’s all you’re good for, Dean.’
'All that will be shared, gentleman, is that I am going to be the victor at Crucifixion. Chicago will be my territory where your sacrifices will be exhibited, where your blood will be spilled ... where my triumph will be manifested. And then ... and only then, my ascension will truly begin. And just like you guys do in Vegas when your hands have been dealt...’
Slater then leans towards the camera, wanting the equipment to capture every single, noticeable emotion on his face, the callous exuberance emanating from his dark eyes perfectly summarizing just how much he wanted to win this match, let alone the entire Tournament as a whole, before finishing his sentence in a calm yet troubling tone.
‘...You can bet on that.’
With that last statement uttered, Slater then moves his hand forward and stops the recording on the camera; but not before issuing a smile of futuristic absolution, a smile that he will likely demonstrate after this match has come to pass.
For all intents and purposes, the indications and formulations of Slater’s constructed ascension were slowly beginning to unravel.
The Formulations of Ascension
Saturday January 28th 2012
Oakland, California
‘Pugh Championship Wrestling is closing down.’
With a dismal glance, Ryan Pugh validated the seriousness of this abysmal situation towards Matt Slater, who stood opposing the owner of this wrestling conglomerate in the Oracle Arena; an ironic venue considering that Oracle’s were deemed precognitive predictors of the future, and no one had foresaw the deconstruction of PCW in this questionable fashion. But strangely, this wasn’t taking place in an office environment; it was taking place in the actual ring for PCW itself.
‘We’re going to cancel our productions, including Insanity, which was supposed to happen tomorrow night. However, all of the talent will have the option of competing in Underground Pro Wrestling ... or New Edge Wrestling, whichever they prefer.’
Slater didn’t bother to ask about the enigmatic occurrences which had led to this decision. He simply remained silent, watching as Pugh reached for a folder on his desk and flipped it open.
‘I’ve organized your release papers here...’ he said, attempting not to choke on the cigarette smoke he had briefly inhaled. ‘If you’re willing to compete in the Underground, then I can add an extra page from the batch that has been printed off.’
Changing his peripheral vision slightly, Slater noted the stack of documents that had been carefully compiled for those who agreed to the proposition of wrestling in UPW. Pugh studied Slater for a moment as his former employee nodded, indicating that he was indeed interested.
‘We’ve always had our differences but...’ Pugh said as he collected one of the pages and stuck it inside Slater’s personal folder, but he abruptly paused through emotion; the entire impact of PCW’s demise had not sunk in as much as people had comprehended so far, something which Slater was observantly aware of. ‘... Well ... I’ve always respected your abilities as a wrestler, and I feel you’ve made a good decision.’
Pugh stood from his chair and handed the folder over to Slater, the two locking eyes with one another as the transaction came to pass, which Pugh slightly smiled at. Slater was certain that the softness and calmness of his demeanour and attitude had been attributed from his company’s impending closure, and that he felt compelled to act in a manner that he wasn’t commonly used to; albeit with a solemn exterior.
He was one of the authority figures that believed Pugh Championship Wrestling would avoid this kind of erasure, as if it was an invulnerable organization that would continue to flourish and bloom into a monolithic company. Now it was on the verge of going away, with no chance of a secondary resurrection taking place any time soon.
Yet perhaps there was more to this story than Pugh was willingly exposing; or so Slater assumed as Pugh sat back down, looking at the Youngblood Championship which Slater gripped in his right hand.
‘Unfortunately, before you leave this arena, you will need to hand over your title.’
Having understood the lethality of these circumstances and consequences, Slater didn’t hesitate to raise the championship up and drop it onto Pugh’s desk. But in his mind, he knew he was going to be recorded as the last man who held that accolade – undefeated too, to be more technical – and he also realized that his ambitious quests regarding that championship were going to be null and void. He wanted to increase its prestigious acknowledgment by his objectives alone. He had even been the sole survivor of the War Games Match at World War X as the Youngblood Champion.
But now, the certainty of its expansive apparel couldn’t be questioned; it was merely going to be a championship to store away as an artefact that detailed the history of New Edge Wrestling, which it formerly came from.
Slater knew he could keep a replication of the championship, but it wouldn’t be the same. Furthermore, he had nowhere to keep it stored, being a drifter without a permanent home. Perhaps that was something he needed to rectify ... maybe with Cera by his side as they shared the habitual accommodation in a location of their choosing.
‘Thanks, Slater. You’re free to leave now. I’ll see you on the other side ... oh, and one more thing. Good luck in the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament. I’m sure you’ll make us proud.’
Those were Pugh’s final words to Slater as he went back to his important paperwork, Slater not objecting to the forced dismissal and deciding to leave appropriately through the woven ropes.
Unbeknownst to Pugh, Slater wasn’t representing any of his organizations in the tournament; it was just that his company affiliation was a compulsory detail he needed to write down. He had joined-up to set his own ascension into motion, and not slip into the depths of obscurity and damnation like the very company he was now leaving. It had been his comprehensive ambition for weeks now, his passionate obligation to craft and secure; his lonesome objective that would single-handedly appease a career that had suffered through injustice and betrayal too many times to count.
Ascension; no greater reward had tempted him so definitively. The splendour and prestige of being the absolute best, of being regaled and adulated by the supportive individuals that continued to elevate the exposure of the wrestling industry, of simply being second to none; that was what kept him motivated and driven, to manifest those dreams into reality and to liberate himself from the depths of ridicule and mediocrity.
But it wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing was ever that easy.
The only easy thing was that he had been given his release from PCW, and he had earned his way into UPW with one simplistic nod.
However, there was one more organization that Slater was tempted to compete in, and all it would take was one flight to Miami to make his acquisition there possible.
Sunday January 29th 2012
Miami, Florida
Whilst the likes of Kurt Noble, CJ Gates, Johnny Rebel, Level-One and the temporarily available Sally Talfourd were diligently preparing to accomplish their individual tasks of being the lonesome victor against eighty-five other competitors in the Survive & Conquer Match, Matt Slater was backstage inside the American Airlines Arena for an entirely different purpose. He only needed to locate one key person for his unplanned visitation here to achieve its fruitful results. And after finding the correct room of authority, entering its interior confines without being courteous or cordial, Slater knew instantly that he had located his man of urgency.
That man was President Jeff, otherwise known as Hurricane Jeff in some other partnered wrestling communities, the operative owner and commissioner of Action Packed Wrestling.
‘Were you properly raised with manners?’ Jeff rhetorically enquired sternly, agitated by Slater’s sudden arrival. ‘Every person should knock beforehand to alert me of their presence.’
‘That simplistic method of awareness seemed to slip my mind...’ Slater replied bluntly, subsequently reaching into his jean’s pocket and pulling out a folded batch of documents which he quickly threw onto Jeff’s desk.
‘And what are these supposed to be?’ Jeff asked, peering at the documents with an expression of confusion.
‘Termination papers from Pugh Championship Wrestling, my previous employer...’ Slater explained. ‘Their closure is currently pending, but my contractual obligations have already been invalidated.’
‘What do you think I am, some kind of law officer?’
‘From what I’ve heard of you Jeff I know you’re a smart man. You can figure out my presence here fairly quickly ... if you would subdue the tumultuous affairs of Survive & Conquer from your mind momentarily.’
Jeff properly acknowledged the papers after this comment from Slater, not being the least bit discreet as he wordlessly mouthed out passages from the official text. As he turned a page, Jeff closed his mouth and gradually leant his head forward, obviously glancing at one portion of the document that had caught his attention.
‘It says here that you’ll be transferred over to Underground Pro Wrestling once Pugh Championship Wrestling has finalized its dealings...’
‘I’m not being detained by an exclusive contract though...’ Slater responded. ‘You could say I’d like to ... expand upon my newly-formulated horizons by incorporating a change of scenery into my future projects.’
‘This means you’ve shown a keen interest in APW and would like to wrestle here too...’ Jeff concluded as he nodded accordingly. He then finished his detailed analysis of the papers and warily studied Slater, visually thinking about what to do before he exhaled. ‘I’ll tell you what ... if you can be here for the next Overdrive, I’ll sanction you a trial.’
‘I don’t need any trials, Jeff...’
‘It’s to prove if you’ll be a committable asset, not a detriment. I’ve heard stories about you...’
‘Those stories will soon be falsified and erased,’ Slater replied coldly. ‘I’m not fond of people who continuously criticize my ventures for implausible reasons. Plus, you might also know that I’m participating in the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament, with the possibility of going against some of your acclaimed stars in fact.’
‘I have heard that, yes...’ Jeff answered coolly. ‘But for now, I’ll put you on our “pending approval” listings. Turn up for Overdrive next week, and compete. How you do will decide your future here in APW. That is all I ask.’
‘Then I’ll accept the trial...’ Slater said with a tone of approval before he leant forward and collected his papers, turning around to exit Jeff’s office. That was, however, until Jeff delayed his evacuation.
‘I suppose you’re not staying to watch Survive & Conquer this evening then?’
‘On the contrary...’ Slater said as a noticeable smirk formed on his face, ‘... I’ll be watching from afar in one of the press boxes. I am a man who likes to research what he could potentially be up against ... and who he has to be extra vigilant of.’
‘And those fans you apparently despise?’ Jeff enquired again but with deeper clarity, really wanting to get Slater’s answer.
‘... They’ll be tolerated. But soon they’ll learn ... they’ll all learn...
Jeff nodded again, although Slater didn’t notice. Instead Slater turned the handle to the door and opened it without looking back around, purposefully strolling away and allowing the door to shut behind him on its own.
This closure symbolized the finalization of their meeting, but Slater understood that soon enough future occurrences would have them interact again; perhaps with an official contract on that very desk for Slater to sign without reluctance or disapproval.
But now, he was only focused on one more thing that needed his immediate attention.
The CWC Invitational Tournament that would begin for him on February 5th in Chicago, Illinois.
Monday January 30th 2012
Miami, Florida
‘Shockingly conquered!’ Slater vociferously announced away from the camera just as he flicked his finished cigarette over the balcony rail, rubbing his hands as he continues to focus on the inaudible occurrences of a morning in Miami that still show remnants of frost and condensation from the typically cold weather at this time of year. ‘That’s the burdening slogan which Action Packed Wrestling will have to bear for the next year. Unbeknownst to them all, a complete unknown, a miniscule threat, at least according to numerous reports evaluating the Survive & Conquer Match, rose to the occasion and ascended to the top as eighty-five other individuals fell in defeat. Alioth Starre ... what a tremendous victory for you. I have to admit you were the dark horse coming into this thing, but you proved that you shouldn’t be criticized and doubted by the legions of supporters that are still helping our industry flourish ... even under controversial circumstances. As for you Azrael Goeren ... well, I expected more from you in all honesty. A great wrestler such as yourself shouldn’t be playing second fiddle, collapsing at the last hurdle, but I guess we can’t win them all, can we ... mein freund?’
Slater chuckles after sharing his use of the German language, all before slapping his palm down onto the rail to soundly annunciate his change in tone.
‘But that is where I come in. I’m sure you’re all aware by now about the CWC Ascension Invitational Tournament that will be taking place soon enough, and if you’re not then you need to start paying closer attention to the happenings of the world. This Tournament is going to feature various wrestlers from different companies fighting for the chance to be somebody, to get noticed more so than usual, to exceed people’s expectations and expand their own horizons. Or maybe it’s just for them to win the CWC World Heavyweight Championship, if that’s their desired motive. I’m telling you all right now ... I’m not in this to represent a single company. I’m not in this to make allies. I’m not in this to make friends. I am in this for my own sole priorities and benefits. Selfish ... perhaps it is, but why risk falling in defeat through the mistake of emotion, like Kurt Noble did?’
‘Moving on with my current address, I’m supposed to be taking part in a Preliminary Match to enter the actual Tournament in the VWF on February 5th, in Chicago, Illinois. My opponents will be Bobby Dean, from New Era Wrestling, and the current VWF World Heavyweight Champion, Jonny Cedrone. We all have nothing in common ... except for one key aspect that my opponents share. They were raised, tutored and still reside in Las Vegas, Nevada. Vegas ... the proclaimed “Sin City”, a “Gambler’s Paradise” of booze, women and money. Know what I call it? A cesspool of human idiocy. That’s what bothers me about addictive gamblers that can’t accept their losses, instead trying in vain to somehow redeem a sense of dignity and pride by walking away with a small amount of cash, to gluttonously gamble until their finances have turned into unmanageable debts ... but of course I digress.’
This is the point where Slater turns his attention to the mounted camera, his eyes filled with inner determination and malice, the kind he is slowly developing and on the verge of exuding in Chicago.
‘Now obviously, there’s a difference in emotions regarding these two individuals ... but at the end of the day, it isn’t going to matter. It isn’t going to create a semblance of change. The people in Vegas that Dean and Cedrone probably know might as well compare their betting losses to those two falling at my feet at VWF Crucifixion. Those environmental familiarizations of going against the odds, of holding on until all the cards are on the table, of rolling the dice and hoping for the best ... they won’t help them against a competitor like me. Your support of Cedrone won’t manifest any alterations that will help him brutalize myself and Dean, who you all seem to hate due to his arrogant, pompous nature, believing he’s the superior man. Well both won’t be superior once our match has reached its devastating conclusion, where their demise will be orchestrated and chronicled, and where my further inclusion in the Ascension Invitational Tournament will be solidified.’
‘Cedrone ... I’ll give him credit, he’s a proficient wrestler, and he has victoriously achieved numerous accolades that can’t go unnoticed, but I’m a different kind of wrestler that Cedrone can’t begin to evaluate or comprehend. He might be an impressive champion, but I’m an even more impressive competitor. He changed his ways not too long ago, transforming himself into a kind-hearted, spiritual warrior that formerly stood as an aristocratic, self-centred, self-righteous egomaniac, and from that ... he’s gotten soft. He doesn’t show that tenacity anymore, that act of fortitude to show he earned that ego with the deepest of regards. Now if he could show a small fragment of ruthlessness and aggression, then I might consider him an able adversary, but the fact remains that just like Alioth Starre at Survive & Conquer, I’m going to walk into his home territory and decimate him beyond repair before attaining the victory. It’s a predictable comparison that’s bound to come true. I’ll make sure of it.’
‘As for you Dean ... you really do love to toot your own horn. You’ve come up with these masterful schemes that mirror insanity and psychotic ... yet you still retain some kind of humanity? Sure your morality is nowhere to be seen, but for a man who spends his time avoiding fights and “being smart”, as you like to call it, I’m not expecting you to last. You may have won championships like Cedrone, but titles and resumes aren’t going to be shared. You might as well just lay down flat and take a beating because that’s all you’re good for, Dean.’
'All that will be shared, gentleman, is that I am going to be the victor at Crucifixion. Chicago will be my territory where your sacrifices will be exhibited, where your blood will be spilled ... where my triumph will be manifested. And then ... and only then, my ascension will truly begin. And just like you guys do in Vegas when your hands have been dealt...’
Slater then leans towards the camera, wanting the equipment to capture every single, noticeable emotion on his face, the callous exuberance emanating from his dark eyes perfectly summarizing just how much he wanted to win this match, let alone the entire Tournament as a whole, before finishing his sentence in a calm yet troubling tone.
‘...You can bet on that.’
With that last statement uttered, Slater then moves his hand forward and stops the recording on the camera; but not before issuing a smile of futuristic absolution, a smile that he will likely demonstrate after this match has come to pass.
For all intents and purposes, the indications and formulations of Slater’s constructed ascension were slowly beginning to unravel.
