Post by C.J. Gates on Mar 20, 2012 0:51:15 GMT -4
The scene opens up in a mostly empty room. The only stick of furniture still around is a large wooden throne sitting at the back. Seated in that chair, is none other then the self proclaimed King of Asylum, "The Loose Cannon" Rico Casteel. He is sitting straight in the chair, his hands grabbing the ends of the arm rests, his knuckles nearing white. His head is bowed slightly, but his eyes continue to look straight ahead, filled with an unreleased anger. He raises his head, but his eyes remain at the same level, staring forward.
"Last year at Rasslemania, I was entered into the battle royal with a chance at a title shot in the future. At that moment, as the Suicidal champion, I thought that my career was ready to blossom. I felt as though there was nothing stopping me from achieving the greatness that I deserve to achieve. I felt as though the sky was the limit for me and everything that I was capable of doing.
"And I wasn't that far off. Winning that battle royal sent me down the road of success, allowing me to capture the APW World Heavyweight title along the way. But lo and behold, that did not happen free of roadblocks and attempts to sabotage my career. Reginald Schmidt did all that he could to hold me back from the top, from being the King that I rightfully am of this Asylum.
"Of my Asylum.
"Forcing me to fight for the title with a third undeserving party involved, prolonging the time until I was able to win the World title, forcing me to fight a meaningless match to do so. Then throwing every Tom, Dick and Harry my way with hopes that I would fall flat on my face and lose my title. I destroyed BDC. I destroyed Branden Harvey. And if it weren't for the fact that I had to defend my title against four undeserving pieces of shit at One Night in Hell, I would have destroyed all of them on my way to Christmas Chaos and beyond.
"But instead, I'm not. Instead, I sit here looking at the card for Rasslemania and seeing the four team title match that I am a part of. Joy. On the plus side, it's a title match and my partner is the only deserving man in that Elimination Chamber, while on the negative side, there are two teams in this match that do not deserve to be here. Two teams that are just here as God damn filler. As yet another roadblock to try and push me back from holding gold.
"They can sugarcoat it all they want, and Reginald can try and lie his way out of it, lie through his God damn teeth, but Mike and I both know the truth. Mike and I both know that this match should be the Martyrs of Madness defending the titles against the only other tag team worth a damn, the Studmuffins.
"No Hometown Heroes.
"No So Cal Gangstas.
"Just two teams. Just four men. Just the Martyrs of Madness putting the Studmuffins in their places. Those belts, they should already be ours. But alas, they are not. No, instead, we have to jump through hoops that we shouldn't have to jump through just to have our names etched into that golden plate on the title belt.
"But I guess we can humor them. We can play their games just to prove that we are capable. Just to prove what I've had to prove every time I fight in this federation. This might be my Kingdom, but everyone keeps trying to hold me down, all of the executives and the suits, they are holding me back.
"We tried to set the example with Anti Society X, but no one listened. So then we made sure to destroy the Grants, and everyone laughed. Then, we took down the Hometown Heroes, who somehow managed to get a match even though they've already signed their walking papers and lost match after match. The only team we haven't squashed under our foot is the one team that we should never have to face off against.
"To most, destroying the tag team division would be enough. After all, what did the Studmuffins ever do to deserve those titles? Nothing. They waltzed in and just took them. Beat a man that had already beaten himself inside of that ring, and walked out with his belts. At the very least, I can look at that man, at Warren Peace with respect for trying to do the unstoppable, the impossible.
"Not the Studmuffins.
"Forget them.
"They've done nothing but invade our Asylum. My Asylum. My fucking Kingdom.
"But Rasslemania is when we take it back. Rasslemania is when we show the world that this is ours, that this place, is run by us. Reginald might be able to make the matches, but he has no authority around here. He has no pull, no swag, no nothing. He's just the boy who has to do all the dirty work. The real soldiers, the real leaders of this place? Are us.
"The Martyrs of Madness."
Rico chuckles and shakes his head slightly, gripping the arms of the throne tighter, his knuckles turning white.
"Forget the rest of them, they are all just placeholders, peasants who will soon be bowing down at our feet. The heroes don't see it, but they will. The self indulged ego trippers don't want to believe it, but they will soon have to. The gangsters will eventually learn how to spell their own God damn name and then, they too will bow at our feet.
"So let us begin.
"So Cal Gangstas. What have the two of you done that is even remotely close to being a gangster? Have the two of you spent your days running with the wrong crowd, making bad choices for yourselves in life, and doing all sorts of drugs and other such substances? Have the two of you been party to drive bys and robberies? Sticking up old grannies with your loaded weapons only to have them turn around and mace the two of you in the eyes?
"Point is, boys, I'm betting that you've done more in your real lives to be considered gangsters as you have in APW to be considered a co-number one contender for the APW Tag Team titles. And if the two of you are as slow as your spelling would have us all believe, then let me spell it out for the two of you.
"You have done nothing. You have done negative. You haven't earned anything more than your contracts, and even that is a bit of a stretch to admit. But I guess there always needs to be one team in a match that will never win and with the Hometown Heroes questionable to actually show up, that honor fell to the two of you.
"Sure, I bet the two of you think that you have a chance to win. I'm sure that the two of you believe you are actually being talked about as serious threats to win, but I've heard the talk. I've listened to what the people are saying.
"They are saying that the So Cal Gangstas will be going back to So Cal faster then they can buy a ticket to do so. After all, the other alternative is to go through with the match and get the two of you pretty much murdered while you try and play through this fantasy, pretend that you are actual wrestlers with actual skill and actual hope.
"Because you aren't.
"And you will realize that soon enough. It might take a few beatings and probably a few concussions, but you will both see it.
"So who's next?"
Rico sits straight in the throne and his eyes grow wide.
"Hometown Heroes? They are nothing. Plain and simple, they are nothing. They already showed that they couldn't beat Mike and I a month ago, and they haven proven their worth when they packed up and walked out of the Asylum like good fourth string champions. They realized that they never had a shot at anything more than holding others towels, and they decided to find greener pastures. Which is fine, definitely all well and good, really. I'm not going to blame them for realizing what exactly they were and dealing with it.
"Of course, people are still considering them a threat. How and why I will never know. They haven't exactly done much to deserve the recognition, let alone this match. They haven't done much in this entire federation to deserve the chance to stand atop my Asylum as champions. They haven't even done much to earn their contracts, either. Much like those So Called Gangstas, they are basically working on borrowed time. Working on borrowed contracts, taking up space that could go to actual competitors, wrestlers with actual prospects, wrestlers who will actually give a fuck.
"Harsh? Definitely. Lies? Not so much. Because it seems to be the trend. Teams come in, try their hand, realize they aren't up to snuff but instead of working hard to get better and make themselves stand out, they just turn and leave. Anti Society X, Grant Squared and soon, Hometown Heroes, they are all in the same vein.
"Failures.
"Incompetents.
"Ultimate losers."
Rico shakes his head once more as he shifts his seat in the chair. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, his eyes still displaying hatred.
"And what does that leave us with? These so-called winners. The so-called stand outs of the division who are only successful because of favoritism. Because one Reginald Schmidt wants to keep the titles away from me and Mike. Because one Asylum General Manager thinks that we actually give a fuck who we have to beat to claim those titles. Because we don't. We don't care who holds them, they will. Be. Destroyed.
"Of course the two of you are the only other team that deserves to be in this match. If it were up to me, I would have placed the other two in some dark match melee, not in the tag team title picture. Let two worthy teams battle it out. Two teams that have, more or less, earned it. Sure, the Studmuffins stole the place that should have belonged to me and Mike, but they have actually won matches. They have actually put forth some effort, hell, they actually show up when they are booked for a match.
"They obviously give a shit.
"And whether that is because the two of them actually do, or because their manager Biggs is forcing them, it doesn't matter. What it proves is that there will at least be one team there to give us a fight. And yes, boys, I haven't forgotten about your manager. I haven't forgotten that he is a conniving fool. I haven't forgotten that he got by in life because of his underhanded tactics. Of course, unlike some do-gooders I am not worried about that. I am not going to bitch and moan about what Biggs might do, and what he might have planned to give his boys an edge."
Rico chuckles to himself.
"He will do whatever he can, but it still won't matter. It won't matter because Mike and I will have this match in our hands by that point. If Biggs wants to climb up onto the apron and distract the referee, I'll make sure to deliver a Knock Out Punch straight to his face. If Biggs wants to slide in some brass knuckles, I'm sure Mike would have no problem sliding them onto his fingers and making sure that the Studmuffins get what's going to be coming for them.
"Trip our legs? We'll make sure that we plant our boots against your heads.
"Jump on my back? I'll throw you into the front row, you little runt.
"Because no one is going to take this opportunity away from Mike and I. No one is going to screw us out of what should already be ours once again. That has been my story since I entered APW, but I am not going to let that continue to be my story. I'm planning to rewrite history.
"When people look at me, what do they see? They see me as a roided up man, a man filled with anger and vengeance, pummeling whatever comes up to him, pounding his chest like some sort of fucking gorilla. They see me as a useless dolt who can't even tie his own shoes. What they don't see is the cold calculation that I go through. What they don't see is the way I watch everyone all the time, waiting for that one spot to open up, that one weakness. Sure, I pound my way through the defense from time to time, but I also wait. I stalk. I strike. But no one can ever really tell when or where, because that is what I'm all about. That is how I operate. That is why they call me the Loose Cannon, because no one really knows what I'm going to do.
"And Mike?
"They see him as a deranged man, as a man who is simply so far out of his mind that he can't function. That is all they see when they look at him, a man who epitomize madness. What they overlook from him, however, is his skill, his talent, his God damn precision inside of that ring. They laugh because he often has this far out look in his eyes, and they laugh because of the way he makes his way to the ring, but what they don't do is take him as seriously as they should. And the minute they don't pay attention, that is when Mike strikes, and that is when Mike seriously fucks them up. People don't take him seriously, but they should. I did, and I have never had any reason to think otherwise.
"When people look at us, they see misfits. They see a rag tag team with no real desire.
"But we have desire. We have the drive. We have the God damn passion.
"Because when I look at Mike and I, I only see one thing.
"Domination.
"And around our waists sit two shiny belts. Around our waists sit our tag team titles. And while no one else sees that just yet, after Rasslemania they won't have a choice.
"After Rasslemania, it will be the truth."
Rico stares forward for a few more moments, his eyes wide before he releases his grip on the chair, stands up and storms off screen as the scene fades to black.
"Last year at Rasslemania, I was entered into the battle royal with a chance at a title shot in the future. At that moment, as the Suicidal champion, I thought that my career was ready to blossom. I felt as though there was nothing stopping me from achieving the greatness that I deserve to achieve. I felt as though the sky was the limit for me and everything that I was capable of doing.
"And I wasn't that far off. Winning that battle royal sent me down the road of success, allowing me to capture the APW World Heavyweight title along the way. But lo and behold, that did not happen free of roadblocks and attempts to sabotage my career. Reginald Schmidt did all that he could to hold me back from the top, from being the King that I rightfully am of this Asylum.
"Of my Asylum.
"Forcing me to fight for the title with a third undeserving party involved, prolonging the time until I was able to win the World title, forcing me to fight a meaningless match to do so. Then throwing every Tom, Dick and Harry my way with hopes that I would fall flat on my face and lose my title. I destroyed BDC. I destroyed Branden Harvey. And if it weren't for the fact that I had to defend my title against four undeserving pieces of shit at One Night in Hell, I would have destroyed all of them on my way to Christmas Chaos and beyond.
"But instead, I'm not. Instead, I sit here looking at the card for Rasslemania and seeing the four team title match that I am a part of. Joy. On the plus side, it's a title match and my partner is the only deserving man in that Elimination Chamber, while on the negative side, there are two teams in this match that do not deserve to be here. Two teams that are just here as God damn filler. As yet another roadblock to try and push me back from holding gold.
"They can sugarcoat it all they want, and Reginald can try and lie his way out of it, lie through his God damn teeth, but Mike and I both know the truth. Mike and I both know that this match should be the Martyrs of Madness defending the titles against the only other tag team worth a damn, the Studmuffins.
"No Hometown Heroes.
"No So Cal Gangstas.
"Just two teams. Just four men. Just the Martyrs of Madness putting the Studmuffins in their places. Those belts, they should already be ours. But alas, they are not. No, instead, we have to jump through hoops that we shouldn't have to jump through just to have our names etched into that golden plate on the title belt.
"But I guess we can humor them. We can play their games just to prove that we are capable. Just to prove what I've had to prove every time I fight in this federation. This might be my Kingdom, but everyone keeps trying to hold me down, all of the executives and the suits, they are holding me back.
"We tried to set the example with Anti Society X, but no one listened. So then we made sure to destroy the Grants, and everyone laughed. Then, we took down the Hometown Heroes, who somehow managed to get a match even though they've already signed their walking papers and lost match after match. The only team we haven't squashed under our foot is the one team that we should never have to face off against.
"To most, destroying the tag team division would be enough. After all, what did the Studmuffins ever do to deserve those titles? Nothing. They waltzed in and just took them. Beat a man that had already beaten himself inside of that ring, and walked out with his belts. At the very least, I can look at that man, at Warren Peace with respect for trying to do the unstoppable, the impossible.
"Not the Studmuffins.
"Forget them.
"They've done nothing but invade our Asylum. My Asylum. My fucking Kingdom.
"But Rasslemania is when we take it back. Rasslemania is when we show the world that this is ours, that this place, is run by us. Reginald might be able to make the matches, but he has no authority around here. He has no pull, no swag, no nothing. He's just the boy who has to do all the dirty work. The real soldiers, the real leaders of this place? Are us.
"The Martyrs of Madness."
Rico chuckles and shakes his head slightly, gripping the arms of the throne tighter, his knuckles turning white.
"Forget the rest of them, they are all just placeholders, peasants who will soon be bowing down at our feet. The heroes don't see it, but they will. The self indulged ego trippers don't want to believe it, but they will soon have to. The gangsters will eventually learn how to spell their own God damn name and then, they too will bow at our feet.
"So let us begin.
"So Cal Gangstas. What have the two of you done that is even remotely close to being a gangster? Have the two of you spent your days running with the wrong crowd, making bad choices for yourselves in life, and doing all sorts of drugs and other such substances? Have the two of you been party to drive bys and robberies? Sticking up old grannies with your loaded weapons only to have them turn around and mace the two of you in the eyes?
"Point is, boys, I'm betting that you've done more in your real lives to be considered gangsters as you have in APW to be considered a co-number one contender for the APW Tag Team titles. And if the two of you are as slow as your spelling would have us all believe, then let me spell it out for the two of you.
"You have done nothing. You have done negative. You haven't earned anything more than your contracts, and even that is a bit of a stretch to admit. But I guess there always needs to be one team in a match that will never win and with the Hometown Heroes questionable to actually show up, that honor fell to the two of you.
"Sure, I bet the two of you think that you have a chance to win. I'm sure that the two of you believe you are actually being talked about as serious threats to win, but I've heard the talk. I've listened to what the people are saying.
"They are saying that the So Cal Gangstas will be going back to So Cal faster then they can buy a ticket to do so. After all, the other alternative is to go through with the match and get the two of you pretty much murdered while you try and play through this fantasy, pretend that you are actual wrestlers with actual skill and actual hope.
"Because you aren't.
"And you will realize that soon enough. It might take a few beatings and probably a few concussions, but you will both see it.
"So who's next?"
Rico sits straight in the throne and his eyes grow wide.
"Hometown Heroes? They are nothing. Plain and simple, they are nothing. They already showed that they couldn't beat Mike and I a month ago, and they haven proven their worth when they packed up and walked out of the Asylum like good fourth string champions. They realized that they never had a shot at anything more than holding others towels, and they decided to find greener pastures. Which is fine, definitely all well and good, really. I'm not going to blame them for realizing what exactly they were and dealing with it.
"Of course, people are still considering them a threat. How and why I will never know. They haven't exactly done much to deserve the recognition, let alone this match. They haven't done much in this entire federation to deserve the chance to stand atop my Asylum as champions. They haven't even done much to earn their contracts, either. Much like those So Called Gangstas, they are basically working on borrowed time. Working on borrowed contracts, taking up space that could go to actual competitors, wrestlers with actual prospects, wrestlers who will actually give a fuck.
"Harsh? Definitely. Lies? Not so much. Because it seems to be the trend. Teams come in, try their hand, realize they aren't up to snuff but instead of working hard to get better and make themselves stand out, they just turn and leave. Anti Society X, Grant Squared and soon, Hometown Heroes, they are all in the same vein.
"Failures.
"Incompetents.
"Ultimate losers."
Rico shakes his head once more as he shifts his seat in the chair. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, his eyes still displaying hatred.
"And what does that leave us with? These so-called winners. The so-called stand outs of the division who are only successful because of favoritism. Because one Reginald Schmidt wants to keep the titles away from me and Mike. Because one Asylum General Manager thinks that we actually give a fuck who we have to beat to claim those titles. Because we don't. We don't care who holds them, they will. Be. Destroyed.
"Of course the two of you are the only other team that deserves to be in this match. If it were up to me, I would have placed the other two in some dark match melee, not in the tag team title picture. Let two worthy teams battle it out. Two teams that have, more or less, earned it. Sure, the Studmuffins stole the place that should have belonged to me and Mike, but they have actually won matches. They have actually put forth some effort, hell, they actually show up when they are booked for a match.
"They obviously give a shit.
"And whether that is because the two of them actually do, or because their manager Biggs is forcing them, it doesn't matter. What it proves is that there will at least be one team there to give us a fight. And yes, boys, I haven't forgotten about your manager. I haven't forgotten that he is a conniving fool. I haven't forgotten that he got by in life because of his underhanded tactics. Of course, unlike some do-gooders I am not worried about that. I am not going to bitch and moan about what Biggs might do, and what he might have planned to give his boys an edge."
Rico chuckles to himself.
"He will do whatever he can, but it still won't matter. It won't matter because Mike and I will have this match in our hands by that point. If Biggs wants to climb up onto the apron and distract the referee, I'll make sure to deliver a Knock Out Punch straight to his face. If Biggs wants to slide in some brass knuckles, I'm sure Mike would have no problem sliding them onto his fingers and making sure that the Studmuffins get what's going to be coming for them.
"Trip our legs? We'll make sure that we plant our boots against your heads.
"Jump on my back? I'll throw you into the front row, you little runt.
"Because no one is going to take this opportunity away from Mike and I. No one is going to screw us out of what should already be ours once again. That has been my story since I entered APW, but I am not going to let that continue to be my story. I'm planning to rewrite history.
"When people look at me, what do they see? They see me as a roided up man, a man filled with anger and vengeance, pummeling whatever comes up to him, pounding his chest like some sort of fucking gorilla. They see me as a useless dolt who can't even tie his own shoes. What they don't see is the cold calculation that I go through. What they don't see is the way I watch everyone all the time, waiting for that one spot to open up, that one weakness. Sure, I pound my way through the defense from time to time, but I also wait. I stalk. I strike. But no one can ever really tell when or where, because that is what I'm all about. That is how I operate. That is why they call me the Loose Cannon, because no one really knows what I'm going to do.
"And Mike?
"They see him as a deranged man, as a man who is simply so far out of his mind that he can't function. That is all they see when they look at him, a man who epitomize madness. What they overlook from him, however, is his skill, his talent, his God damn precision inside of that ring. They laugh because he often has this far out look in his eyes, and they laugh because of the way he makes his way to the ring, but what they don't do is take him as seriously as they should. And the minute they don't pay attention, that is when Mike strikes, and that is when Mike seriously fucks them up. People don't take him seriously, but they should. I did, and I have never had any reason to think otherwise.
"When people look at us, they see misfits. They see a rag tag team with no real desire.
"But we have desire. We have the drive. We have the God damn passion.
"Because when I look at Mike and I, I only see one thing.
"Domination.
"And around our waists sit two shiny belts. Around our waists sit our tag team titles. And while no one else sees that just yet, after Rasslemania they won't have a choice.
"After Rasslemania, it will be the truth."
Rico stares forward for a few more moments, his eyes wide before he releases his grip on the chair, stands up and storms off screen as the scene fades to black.
