Post by Nick Watson on Mar 24, 2012 17:48:04 GMT -4
*A Few Weeks Before The Last Overdrive Before Rasslemania*
The helicopter swung low over the jungles of some unknown country that Madok had never heard of and more than likely would never be planning a retreat to. He looked over at the last known man to see his friend and glared at him angrily, was this man telling the truth of Pence's where-abouts or was he just filling his head full of crap, just like the last Pence-sighting in Russia. In truth, Madok was concerned, Pence had been missing for at least two months now, and Madok had of course had no contact with Pence at all. In fact, Pence's cell-phone had been left in house in Hershey and had been collecting quite a bit of dust sitting upon the kitchen table. Madok's concerns had only been growing for his friends over these months as Sasaori had head back to her town to continue teaching, and Matt, though equally concerned, could not leave Nashville, due to the wrestling promotion he was part of. So that left Madok, the billionaire in charge of finding Pence, and no rock was being left un-turned by the billionaire. Madok had thought Jeff of APW would have helped him, but Jeff was always too busy now, too busy for the man who had helped make his show a hit. It had always erked Madok to watch Pence be thrown around like a used towel by Jeff...used to scrub the messes up that Jeff had made. It had started with Level One, but had continued on to this day with Nathaniel Havok. Madok had always told Pence that sooner or later Jeff would give him a big time opponent.
That maybe it took time, that Jeff was getting around to something great for him, but alas...that just wasn't the case. Madok had said those things to keep Pence positive, to keep his head in the game, but after hearing what happened at Christmas Chaos, he could understand why Pence did what he did. Pence threw in the towel, for the first time in his career, and Madok could not blame him for letting it slip by him. Pence had made a statement that he was not Jeff's bitch and in return Pence had obtained a verbal lashing so harsh that most men would have broke, but Pence had stood his ground, and argued with Jeff as well. Neither man had given ground and it had ended with a silent suspension that didn't even reach the ears of any news network. Pence had lived at his home for a month, silently doing nothing, and looking out a window. He remembered trying to talk to him, but could only remember the numbness of his appearance.
It was as if Pence had died a little on the inside and was instead looking outside for answers. Then one day, as Madok had entered into the house to check on his friend, and tell him that the suspension had been lifted...Pence was gone. He had not even left a note and had disappeared entirely off the face of the earth. He had checked everywhere, exhausted every lead, and climbed ever mountain....until now of course. Now all he had to do was bear the obnoxious helicopter rotor and the unbearable heat and then he would find him. He had to find him and bring him back...the fans would save their hero as they always did for Pence. It seemed they really did love him...he had received fan mail asking where he had been, millions of letters from around the world, concerned fans, and friends who wanted to know where the Reaper was. Madok had sent back mass-mail, telling them that he was currently going through a rough patch and had taken some time off...which was half-right. He would bring Pence back for them, he swore it.
"Mr. Mortalis...I hope you know that these woods are dangerous...a man could die out here and the last time I saw him was a few weeks ago. He didn't look like the Pence I saw on television either...he looked rather different."
"Trust me when I say this, you are doing the right thing. You are helping me bring Pence back to the states so that he can entertain. He is going through a huge rough patch and will need fan support like yours to continue to compete...plus I assure you will be reimbursed for all of this."
"I don't need any money...just meeting Pence would be enough for me."
Madok smiled, this was the effect that Pence had on his fans, and this man was going to fulfill a lifetime wish by helping him. He wanted to meet Pence and he was going to meet him, but something was getting at him. Pence was different somehow to this man and the Pence on television usually was the Pence in real-life, he wondered if Pence had changed somehow during this two month period. He remembered a while ago that Pence had of course pitied himself, but the fans had woken him back up...it was then that Pence went on to becoming the APW Xtreme Champion and cemented himself into legend as a triple crown. But...this time things were different. Pence was different to this man and thus would more than likely would be different to him.
"What do you mean by different?"
"He looked like a wild man...a man possessed by some spirit."
Madok looked down, remembering a few times that Pence's rage had taken hold, and remembering the fights that Pence had gotten himself into. Pence was a man of emotion and he didn't hide his love or hate for people, but when someone close to him was hurt by someone...all bets were off. Pence was a fighter, an ex-killer, and one hell of a scholar when it came to researching his opponents...it made him deadly when mad and even worse when enraged. Madok folded his hands on his lap as he began to think it wasn't such a good idea that he was wearing a suit now. He was fearful that Pence had probably jumped off the deep-end and was more than likely going to have a heated confrontation with him and to be quite honest, Madok in a suit against Pence in normal clothes was not a fair fight and he knew that.
"We are here...I'm landing us in that clearing over there."
"Alright...but don't rock the damn helicopter so much...you are making me sick, dude."
A few minutes later and they had landed, Madok disembarked with the man who looked around, holding a rifle. It was true that there were wild animals everywhere and the man's gun would be a priceless insurance of their safety for now. The man waved for Madok to follow and also made sure to indicate to be quiet. So Madok listened, not wanting to awaken any sleeping beasts that were more than likely around them. And that is how they began their travels. For hours, the man led Madok through dense foliage through the jungle around them, but the man did not not lose stride. It was as if the man had an internal map of the jungle, which wasn't too hard to believe as he had said he had grown up out here. Madok listened closely, to the man who's breath was calm and steady, and to the jungle around them just in case he heard some crashing around which was the first sign of an imminent attack. It was then that they heard the crack of a branch. The man stopped and turned around.
"That crack...came from behind us."
He whispered as Madok took a deep breath and turned in fear to look behind him, only to be greeted by nothing. But he got this feeling that they were not alone anymore.
"Madok: Do you..."
"Yes...we are being watched."
The man said calmly as he continued to look around. Madok was shaken, but the man was not, and was clearly ready for anything as he did not even miss a step as he walked around the perimeter of Madok, watching for any disturbances. It was then that he stiffened up and pointed into the distance, Madok strained his eyes, and looked far off into the distance to see a figure he had not seen in months. He was sitting in a tree and was looking at them intently, he wasn't moving, but Madok could feel his eyes, and to be honest he was a bit intimidated. Pence looked like he had been through hell or hell had been through him. He wore animal skins, looked like a mountain man with his beard, and even carried a bow on his back for hunting with a quiver full of arrows.
"This is exactly what he did last time....he sat there and watched. Like an animal...not at all like the Pence I knew."
"Well that is Pence...I guess I should talk to him."
"Good luck...he didn't even want to talk to me."
Madok took a gulp and then began to walk forward, it was then that the world turned upside down. For a second, Madok was confused, but then he realized that this area was booby trapped...Pence had booby trapped this whole area.
" Sorry about that...I was plotting you a course through the traps, but like always you are just too quick to act."
Madok glared over at Pence who looked like the normal Pence now. He stood up in the tree and looked like he was about to laugh, but clearly decided not to as he would more than likely entice a group of animals to attack.
"Hold still...I'm coming."
He said as he jumped from the tree, making weird zig-zags, and movements to avoid invisible traps. Madok didn't know what was going on...or why Pence was living this way, but he was determined to find out.
*TO BE CONTINUED!*
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"The question is not if the people have the faith to follow me on the dark road, but if they can survive the journey. I know the fans will come around...regardless of their false idols and false heroes...they always come back to my side. My fans are the real fans, not these five year old kids who want to promote anti-bullying campaigns, but the men and women who pay the price of admission to watch someone's ass get kicked. But yet, I'm uneasy about the future. I look at what is happening, I pretend that I don't see the tell-tale signs of an entertainment Armageddon, but it is everywhere that I look... I look around at my surroundings...all of these bill-boards and signs promoting fights that could change the future of a brand that no longer has any sort of star power left to give. Sure, the company would paint C.J. Gates the new hero of the story and Kurt Noble his valiant compatriot who stand against the forces of darkness, but how can one fight the darkness when one has not seen the darkness?
How can one fight against something that they have never experienced. No, no, no...these two are not the future, they are a regression of what was once a past that had been long since buried. A past of generic wrestlers that quickly got demolished after the Reaper emerged. This is the truth and there is no way around it. But Gates and Noble aren't the only ones being painted...lets look at the villains as well, the villains of the new era. A group of thugs...nothing more nothing less. What in the hell happened to the verbal lashings, the venom in every single word, and the vile use of self-propaganda? I will tell you where it went...six feet under. Jeff has picked, by far, the worst cast of rejects the world could ask for, and then has marketed them so strongly that the media and audience has been blinded by the clusterfuck of perpetual worthlessness. Now, even they have fallen to the lies and trickery of a corporation that changed from wanting to give grade A entertainment to a company that is looking to make a quick buck on merchandise and television programs.
Sure there are some exceptions to the rules...like Sally and Havok. They came in during an era of extreme entertainment and did their best. They made it to the top of the mountain with blood sweat and tears, instead of being coddled by an owner that doesn't want his prized collection of failures to dirty their hands. I, for lack of a better term, am impressed with both of them, and during this era I feel for them. They too must notice how boring and bland things have gotten...Sally's Happy Ending is the best television I watch now from Overdrive...even the show itself has become nothing more than a joke to a person who has watched it on and off for years. I could blame society for going soft, but that just isn't the case, no...the fault lies in a corporation who's development division has fallen quite far since the days of the true entertainer.
For instance, let us look at my match...if I can even call this disgusting and down right sad fight a match. I am fighting a man in a mask who is named after a common reptilian pet, the bearded dragon...now I ask...am I suppose to be intimidated by a life-form that eats insects? Am I? Or am I suppose to just squash the lizard and walk on about my merry way? The answer is self-explanatory and needs no further explanation. The fact is...I'm not intimidated, neither am I impressed, and neither am I amused. This man has taken a gimmick that has been beaten to death, a name of a reptile that eats insects and small rodents, and has done absolutely nothing to merit any sort of exposure outside of a dark match...but yet here he is! Sitting in my ring, pandering to a crowd that is just eating his shit up like it is a well cooked steak, and getting paid decent money to do so. Surely I'm not the only one who can't help, but see the stupidity in this? Clearly I'm not the only one who seems to care about where entertainment is slowly death crawling to? I refuse to believe there is no one out there who sees this. I refuse, just outright, but you know...it wouldn't surprise me...with you know...all of the t-shirts and memorabilia being sold, that the people are just being led by their johnsons to a false promised land that doesn't exist.
Jeff paints a pretty picture of what is wrong and what is right, he digs the fact that his two top stars are shaking hands, and talking about how they almost got mad in the ring or actually gave in to their need to give it all, but chose to instead give the bare minimum while talking a big game. I ask you, is it fair? Is it fair to constantly watch as you get passed by less than equal stars? To watch as they ruin your legacy by spitting on everything that got you there? Sure, I had allies, people I was buddy-buddy with, but in the end...I still let them have hell if they were my opponent. I had a distinction between friendship and entertainment...and back in the day that was fine! Hell I was told by Jeff to do whatever it took to win...given the green light on anything...and you want to know why? My actions sold more than any actions out there. I brought APW with the help of the masses and the owner who at one time I called a friend, but not so much anymore, to the top. We put it on our shoulders and carried it to the real promised land...but then this happened. Injury, expired contract, and a sense of betrayal...these three things took me away from the show I loved, and slowly, but surely it morphed into the Feel Good Hour on Nick Kids....how I don't know...could be all the crap that is being shoveled their way each night.
No biggy though. It all changes soon. Test for The Best is coming up sometime in July, I guarantee I will compete, and I guarantee I will win. Jeff will have no choice, but to stop coddling his chosen ingrates, and I will smash them...oh how they will bitch and whine about it, but I will just crack their God damn head opens. And you know what? The people will see....they will see that Jeff has painted a false picture, and then they will erupt in to cheers louder than anything that this new era could muster because then...and only then...will they be free. They will be free to actually see the true picture and I will carry them...as I always do, to the promised land where nothing, but pure entertainment will exist, but for now....well there is this match. Don't think I have forgotten about this weak match that you have put together Jeff, because I see it, and though I hate it, I realize what you are trying to do...you want to evaluate the threat?
Well let me tell you what the threat is....the threat spent two months alone in the wilderness away from society, he trained hard using a survival training method used by the Vikings and some martial artists, during this time, the threat learned a bunch of new skills he is dying to use, and is more than likely going to use on your scrubs, and of course...the threat knows where you eat, where you sleep, and where you are every minute of every day thanks to research. Also, lets not exclude the fact that the threat has been keeping track of every megastar in APW via your research and development department. So I know everyone's weaknesses...I know their loves, their hates, and their wants...you know anything that a rising megastar would need to know to stomp a mud-hole in somebodies ass. But, back to this match....you know the evaluation match you think actually is going to give you an assessment of the can of fuck you have opened.
You chose, Bearded Dragon, and a Hollywood Bitch who has no talent other than acting...good job...really, good job. Bearded Dragon, for as much as I know has been a small time guy all his life...always scratching the bottom of the barrel in terms of talent and skill, can't blame the guy...its developments problem for bringing him up to quickly, meanwhile you have this Hollywood guy...this guy who is apparently is making it in the movies, but has yet to star in any relevant movie, but at the same time is an A-lister. May I ask how the man is an A-lister when he has not starred in anything that looks like it actually be good? I mean, so far it looks like he has been an extra, a few more times than he has actually starred in anything worth merit? Or am I wrong? The same could be said about his "talent" this guy has done absolutely nothing, but here he is...outside of a dark match, about to wrestle an APW legend who continuously gets denied entrance into the prestigious hall of fame. His talent in wrestling apparently is limited to his high school career, which by the way is nothing like the wrestling he will be competing in here at APW, and also...am I not the only one who can't wait to laugh at him if he walks down to the ring wearing a helmet like the Olympian wrestlers do? Anyway, this guy, and Bearded are basically the same! Neither of them have made a solid contribution or made an effort to push beyond their limitations or show any one any sort of spark that would suggest that they are APW material, but here they are...mucking it up and fighting me.
I use the term, mucking it up, not to describe myself as a weakling, but to describe the position that Jeff has forced on me as low. This is Rasslemania VIII, after all! I should be competing near the top of the card, in a match to show off my talents, and my skills...not in the bottom of the card where one can be eclipsed just as quickly as one shows up. This is neither fair to me or to the fans, but you know what...probably doesn't bother Jeff. He is just prepping himself to deny me of what I really deserve by making me his weapon again and pointing me at his problem people, but I'm not going to do as he asks...I'm not going to be his slave. I'm going to be my own man and that man is going to lead APW out of this "Friend Era" and into the promised land again. Regardless of what happens, regardless of who he puts in my way...in the end it doesn't matter...because at the end of all this...Pence Weatherlight will still win and he will still be cheered by the ones who know what is going on and booed by the ones who are lost to the madness.
For my opponents, they aren't so lucky...oh no, not so lucky at all...these two are in for the fight of their short-lived careers. Regardless of what happens, they are more than likely scared out of their mind as to what is going to happen to them tomorrow, and you know what...who can blame them? Jeff has put them in this predicament, no one else, and Jeff will not only pay for this in-humane action, but he will learn from it. I would say sorry to the both of them, but I realize now that it isn't really worth it...neither of them have spoken for weeks, and neither of them have made any effort to do any preparation by my reckoning. Oh well...this is once again the fault of Jeff...these two were not ready and I will show that to Jeff by kicking their heads in and then holding my fists high as the referee announces me as the undisputed winner of the bout. Maybe then he will give me an opponent who is worthy of my level of fighting.
For now all we can do is wait...the clock to Rasslemania is ticking rapidly toward the hour of judgement and when it comes...I promise you that I will be there for you. Unlike C.J. and Kurt I will stand there...booed or not and fight for you, because that is what I have always done, because that is who Mr. Main Event is. He is the people's instrument of war...their instrument of absolute justice...and at Rasslemania VIII...he will continue where he left off as only a Triple Crown Champion can...by defeating the weaker fish in the pond and making his way up to the Jeff-created sharks that swim our waters. So keep your eyes on me APW and watch your hero, your true hero, because Pence Weatherlight is not stopping till he sits on the thrown of APW once again in the promised lands of true entertainment."
*The scene bursts to static*
The helicopter swung low over the jungles of some unknown country that Madok had never heard of and more than likely would never be planning a retreat to. He looked over at the last known man to see his friend and glared at him angrily, was this man telling the truth of Pence's where-abouts or was he just filling his head full of crap, just like the last Pence-sighting in Russia. In truth, Madok was concerned, Pence had been missing for at least two months now, and Madok had of course had no contact with Pence at all. In fact, Pence's cell-phone had been left in house in Hershey and had been collecting quite a bit of dust sitting upon the kitchen table. Madok's concerns had only been growing for his friends over these months as Sasaori had head back to her town to continue teaching, and Matt, though equally concerned, could not leave Nashville, due to the wrestling promotion he was part of. So that left Madok, the billionaire in charge of finding Pence, and no rock was being left un-turned by the billionaire. Madok had thought Jeff of APW would have helped him, but Jeff was always too busy now, too busy for the man who had helped make his show a hit. It had always erked Madok to watch Pence be thrown around like a used towel by Jeff...used to scrub the messes up that Jeff had made. It had started with Level One, but had continued on to this day with Nathaniel Havok. Madok had always told Pence that sooner or later Jeff would give him a big time opponent.
That maybe it took time, that Jeff was getting around to something great for him, but alas...that just wasn't the case. Madok had said those things to keep Pence positive, to keep his head in the game, but after hearing what happened at Christmas Chaos, he could understand why Pence did what he did. Pence threw in the towel, for the first time in his career, and Madok could not blame him for letting it slip by him. Pence had made a statement that he was not Jeff's bitch and in return Pence had obtained a verbal lashing so harsh that most men would have broke, but Pence had stood his ground, and argued with Jeff as well. Neither man had given ground and it had ended with a silent suspension that didn't even reach the ears of any news network. Pence had lived at his home for a month, silently doing nothing, and looking out a window. He remembered trying to talk to him, but could only remember the numbness of his appearance.
It was as if Pence had died a little on the inside and was instead looking outside for answers. Then one day, as Madok had entered into the house to check on his friend, and tell him that the suspension had been lifted...Pence was gone. He had not even left a note and had disappeared entirely off the face of the earth. He had checked everywhere, exhausted every lead, and climbed ever mountain....until now of course. Now all he had to do was bear the obnoxious helicopter rotor and the unbearable heat and then he would find him. He had to find him and bring him back...the fans would save their hero as they always did for Pence. It seemed they really did love him...he had received fan mail asking where he had been, millions of letters from around the world, concerned fans, and friends who wanted to know where the Reaper was. Madok had sent back mass-mail, telling them that he was currently going through a rough patch and had taken some time off...which was half-right. He would bring Pence back for them, he swore it.
"Mr. Mortalis...I hope you know that these woods are dangerous...a man could die out here and the last time I saw him was a few weeks ago. He didn't look like the Pence I saw on television either...he looked rather different."
"Trust me when I say this, you are doing the right thing. You are helping me bring Pence back to the states so that he can entertain. He is going through a huge rough patch and will need fan support like yours to continue to compete...plus I assure you will be reimbursed for all of this."
"I don't need any money...just meeting Pence would be enough for me."
Madok smiled, this was the effect that Pence had on his fans, and this man was going to fulfill a lifetime wish by helping him. He wanted to meet Pence and he was going to meet him, but something was getting at him. Pence was different somehow to this man and the Pence on television usually was the Pence in real-life, he wondered if Pence had changed somehow during this two month period. He remembered a while ago that Pence had of course pitied himself, but the fans had woken him back up...it was then that Pence went on to becoming the APW Xtreme Champion and cemented himself into legend as a triple crown. But...this time things were different. Pence was different to this man and thus would more than likely would be different to him.
"What do you mean by different?"
"He looked like a wild man...a man possessed by some spirit."
Madok looked down, remembering a few times that Pence's rage had taken hold, and remembering the fights that Pence had gotten himself into. Pence was a man of emotion and he didn't hide his love or hate for people, but when someone close to him was hurt by someone...all bets were off. Pence was a fighter, an ex-killer, and one hell of a scholar when it came to researching his opponents...it made him deadly when mad and even worse when enraged. Madok folded his hands on his lap as he began to think it wasn't such a good idea that he was wearing a suit now. He was fearful that Pence had probably jumped off the deep-end and was more than likely going to have a heated confrontation with him and to be quite honest, Madok in a suit against Pence in normal clothes was not a fair fight and he knew that.
"We are here...I'm landing us in that clearing over there."
"Alright...but don't rock the damn helicopter so much...you are making me sick, dude."
A few minutes later and they had landed, Madok disembarked with the man who looked around, holding a rifle. It was true that there were wild animals everywhere and the man's gun would be a priceless insurance of their safety for now. The man waved for Madok to follow and also made sure to indicate to be quiet. So Madok listened, not wanting to awaken any sleeping beasts that were more than likely around them. And that is how they began their travels. For hours, the man led Madok through dense foliage through the jungle around them, but the man did not not lose stride. It was as if the man had an internal map of the jungle, which wasn't too hard to believe as he had said he had grown up out here. Madok listened closely, to the man who's breath was calm and steady, and to the jungle around them just in case he heard some crashing around which was the first sign of an imminent attack. It was then that they heard the crack of a branch. The man stopped and turned around.
"That crack...came from behind us."
He whispered as Madok took a deep breath and turned in fear to look behind him, only to be greeted by nothing. But he got this feeling that they were not alone anymore.
"Madok: Do you..."
"Yes...we are being watched."
The man said calmly as he continued to look around. Madok was shaken, but the man was not, and was clearly ready for anything as he did not even miss a step as he walked around the perimeter of Madok, watching for any disturbances. It was then that he stiffened up and pointed into the distance, Madok strained his eyes, and looked far off into the distance to see a figure he had not seen in months. He was sitting in a tree and was looking at them intently, he wasn't moving, but Madok could feel his eyes, and to be honest he was a bit intimidated. Pence looked like he had been through hell or hell had been through him. He wore animal skins, looked like a mountain man with his beard, and even carried a bow on his back for hunting with a quiver full of arrows.
"This is exactly what he did last time....he sat there and watched. Like an animal...not at all like the Pence I knew."
"Well that is Pence...I guess I should talk to him."
"Good luck...he didn't even want to talk to me."
Madok took a gulp and then began to walk forward, it was then that the world turned upside down. For a second, Madok was confused, but then he realized that this area was booby trapped...Pence had booby trapped this whole area.
" Sorry about that...I was plotting you a course through the traps, but like always you are just too quick to act."
Madok glared over at Pence who looked like the normal Pence now. He stood up in the tree and looked like he was about to laugh, but clearly decided not to as he would more than likely entice a group of animals to attack.
"Hold still...I'm coming."
He said as he jumped from the tree, making weird zig-zags, and movements to avoid invisible traps. Madok didn't know what was going on...or why Pence was living this way, but he was determined to find out.
*TO BE CONTINUED!*
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"The question is not if the people have the faith to follow me on the dark road, but if they can survive the journey. I know the fans will come around...regardless of their false idols and false heroes...they always come back to my side. My fans are the real fans, not these five year old kids who want to promote anti-bullying campaigns, but the men and women who pay the price of admission to watch someone's ass get kicked. But yet, I'm uneasy about the future. I look at what is happening, I pretend that I don't see the tell-tale signs of an entertainment Armageddon, but it is everywhere that I look... I look around at my surroundings...all of these bill-boards and signs promoting fights that could change the future of a brand that no longer has any sort of star power left to give. Sure, the company would paint C.J. Gates the new hero of the story and Kurt Noble his valiant compatriot who stand against the forces of darkness, but how can one fight the darkness when one has not seen the darkness?
How can one fight against something that they have never experienced. No, no, no...these two are not the future, they are a regression of what was once a past that had been long since buried. A past of generic wrestlers that quickly got demolished after the Reaper emerged. This is the truth and there is no way around it. But Gates and Noble aren't the only ones being painted...lets look at the villains as well, the villains of the new era. A group of thugs...nothing more nothing less. What in the hell happened to the verbal lashings, the venom in every single word, and the vile use of self-propaganda? I will tell you where it went...six feet under. Jeff has picked, by far, the worst cast of rejects the world could ask for, and then has marketed them so strongly that the media and audience has been blinded by the clusterfuck of perpetual worthlessness. Now, even they have fallen to the lies and trickery of a corporation that changed from wanting to give grade A entertainment to a company that is looking to make a quick buck on merchandise and television programs.
Sure there are some exceptions to the rules...like Sally and Havok. They came in during an era of extreme entertainment and did their best. They made it to the top of the mountain with blood sweat and tears, instead of being coddled by an owner that doesn't want his prized collection of failures to dirty their hands. I, for lack of a better term, am impressed with both of them, and during this era I feel for them. They too must notice how boring and bland things have gotten...Sally's Happy Ending is the best television I watch now from Overdrive...even the show itself has become nothing more than a joke to a person who has watched it on and off for years. I could blame society for going soft, but that just isn't the case, no...the fault lies in a corporation who's development division has fallen quite far since the days of the true entertainer.
For instance, let us look at my match...if I can even call this disgusting and down right sad fight a match. I am fighting a man in a mask who is named after a common reptilian pet, the bearded dragon...now I ask...am I suppose to be intimidated by a life-form that eats insects? Am I? Or am I suppose to just squash the lizard and walk on about my merry way? The answer is self-explanatory and needs no further explanation. The fact is...I'm not intimidated, neither am I impressed, and neither am I amused. This man has taken a gimmick that has been beaten to death, a name of a reptile that eats insects and small rodents, and has done absolutely nothing to merit any sort of exposure outside of a dark match...but yet here he is! Sitting in my ring, pandering to a crowd that is just eating his shit up like it is a well cooked steak, and getting paid decent money to do so. Surely I'm not the only one who can't help, but see the stupidity in this? Clearly I'm not the only one who seems to care about where entertainment is slowly death crawling to? I refuse to believe there is no one out there who sees this. I refuse, just outright, but you know...it wouldn't surprise me...with you know...all of the t-shirts and memorabilia being sold, that the people are just being led by their johnsons to a false promised land that doesn't exist.
Jeff paints a pretty picture of what is wrong and what is right, he digs the fact that his two top stars are shaking hands, and talking about how they almost got mad in the ring or actually gave in to their need to give it all, but chose to instead give the bare minimum while talking a big game. I ask you, is it fair? Is it fair to constantly watch as you get passed by less than equal stars? To watch as they ruin your legacy by spitting on everything that got you there? Sure, I had allies, people I was buddy-buddy with, but in the end...I still let them have hell if they were my opponent. I had a distinction between friendship and entertainment...and back in the day that was fine! Hell I was told by Jeff to do whatever it took to win...given the green light on anything...and you want to know why? My actions sold more than any actions out there. I brought APW with the help of the masses and the owner who at one time I called a friend, but not so much anymore, to the top. We put it on our shoulders and carried it to the real promised land...but then this happened. Injury, expired contract, and a sense of betrayal...these three things took me away from the show I loved, and slowly, but surely it morphed into the Feel Good Hour on Nick Kids....how I don't know...could be all the crap that is being shoveled their way each night.
No biggy though. It all changes soon. Test for The Best is coming up sometime in July, I guarantee I will compete, and I guarantee I will win. Jeff will have no choice, but to stop coddling his chosen ingrates, and I will smash them...oh how they will bitch and whine about it, but I will just crack their God damn head opens. And you know what? The people will see....they will see that Jeff has painted a false picture, and then they will erupt in to cheers louder than anything that this new era could muster because then...and only then...will they be free. They will be free to actually see the true picture and I will carry them...as I always do, to the promised land where nothing, but pure entertainment will exist, but for now....well there is this match. Don't think I have forgotten about this weak match that you have put together Jeff, because I see it, and though I hate it, I realize what you are trying to do...you want to evaluate the threat?
Well let me tell you what the threat is....the threat spent two months alone in the wilderness away from society, he trained hard using a survival training method used by the Vikings and some martial artists, during this time, the threat learned a bunch of new skills he is dying to use, and is more than likely going to use on your scrubs, and of course...the threat knows where you eat, where you sleep, and where you are every minute of every day thanks to research. Also, lets not exclude the fact that the threat has been keeping track of every megastar in APW via your research and development department. So I know everyone's weaknesses...I know their loves, their hates, and their wants...you know anything that a rising megastar would need to know to stomp a mud-hole in somebodies ass. But, back to this match....you know the evaluation match you think actually is going to give you an assessment of the can of fuck you have opened.
You chose, Bearded Dragon, and a Hollywood Bitch who has no talent other than acting...good job...really, good job. Bearded Dragon, for as much as I know has been a small time guy all his life...always scratching the bottom of the barrel in terms of talent and skill, can't blame the guy...its developments problem for bringing him up to quickly, meanwhile you have this Hollywood guy...this guy who is apparently is making it in the movies, but has yet to star in any relevant movie, but at the same time is an A-lister. May I ask how the man is an A-lister when he has not starred in anything that looks like it actually be good? I mean, so far it looks like he has been an extra, a few more times than he has actually starred in anything worth merit? Or am I wrong? The same could be said about his "talent" this guy has done absolutely nothing, but here he is...outside of a dark match, about to wrestle an APW legend who continuously gets denied entrance into the prestigious hall of fame. His talent in wrestling apparently is limited to his high school career, which by the way is nothing like the wrestling he will be competing in here at APW, and also...am I not the only one who can't wait to laugh at him if he walks down to the ring wearing a helmet like the Olympian wrestlers do? Anyway, this guy, and Bearded are basically the same! Neither of them have made a solid contribution or made an effort to push beyond their limitations or show any one any sort of spark that would suggest that they are APW material, but here they are...mucking it up and fighting me.
I use the term, mucking it up, not to describe myself as a weakling, but to describe the position that Jeff has forced on me as low. This is Rasslemania VIII, after all! I should be competing near the top of the card, in a match to show off my talents, and my skills...not in the bottom of the card where one can be eclipsed just as quickly as one shows up. This is neither fair to me or to the fans, but you know what...probably doesn't bother Jeff. He is just prepping himself to deny me of what I really deserve by making me his weapon again and pointing me at his problem people, but I'm not going to do as he asks...I'm not going to be his slave. I'm going to be my own man and that man is going to lead APW out of this "Friend Era" and into the promised land again. Regardless of what happens, regardless of who he puts in my way...in the end it doesn't matter...because at the end of all this...Pence Weatherlight will still win and he will still be cheered by the ones who know what is going on and booed by the ones who are lost to the madness.
For my opponents, they aren't so lucky...oh no, not so lucky at all...these two are in for the fight of their short-lived careers. Regardless of what happens, they are more than likely scared out of their mind as to what is going to happen to them tomorrow, and you know what...who can blame them? Jeff has put them in this predicament, no one else, and Jeff will not only pay for this in-humane action, but he will learn from it. I would say sorry to the both of them, but I realize now that it isn't really worth it...neither of them have spoken for weeks, and neither of them have made any effort to do any preparation by my reckoning. Oh well...this is once again the fault of Jeff...these two were not ready and I will show that to Jeff by kicking their heads in and then holding my fists high as the referee announces me as the undisputed winner of the bout. Maybe then he will give me an opponent who is worthy of my level of fighting.
For now all we can do is wait...the clock to Rasslemania is ticking rapidly toward the hour of judgement and when it comes...I promise you that I will be there for you. Unlike C.J. and Kurt I will stand there...booed or not and fight for you, because that is what I have always done, because that is who Mr. Main Event is. He is the people's instrument of war...their instrument of absolute justice...and at Rasslemania VIII...he will continue where he left off as only a Triple Crown Champion can...by defeating the weaker fish in the pond and making his way up to the Jeff-created sharks that swim our waters. So keep your eyes on me APW and watch your hero, your true hero, because Pence Weatherlight is not stopping till he sits on the thrown of APW once again in the promised lands of true entertainment."
*The scene bursts to static*
