Post by chrisgibson on Jul 8, 2022 11:37:58 GMT -5
“At least try and enjoy this shit man, me and Cyn had to cut a serious check to get this place rented out on such short notice.”
The scene opens up to a bar just on the outside of New York City. The bar was semi filled with dumbass Yankees and not the ones from the baseball team.
Chris Gibson was clutching his newly won Prestige Championship, but instead of jumping up and down with bundles of joy as if this was new to him, it was the complete opposite. At the beginning of his career he may have enjoyed this attention of holding a championship and also being honored with the OPW match of the week, but at thirty-eight and fourteen years in, all the attention the media became annoying as fuck.
That however wasn’t the reason Gibson wasn’t feeling the vibe, although he appreciated what his best friends Cynthia and Jonny were doing for him, he only had retribution on his mind.
Gibson rubbed the back of his neck and snarled just thinking of the moment when he can finally wrap his hands around the neck of Brandon Moore and squeeze until his eyes pop out of his head.
Moore and Gibsons career have been parallel and yet they’ve never crossed paths until now.
Gibson knows just a small amount of what Brandon Moore is all about, he’s a loud mouth extremist who decided to take up professional wrestling in the wrong decade. He runs around like a maniac with no sense, and a place like OPW is perfect fit for someone like Brandon Moore.
The old Chris Gibson would choose to match violence with violence…
“Dude lighten the fuck up.” Jonny said snapping his fingers. “We’re going to get that asshole sooner or later man alright, just take it easy, I can see it all over your face.”
“Yeah Chris.” Cynthia added. “We can’t be more excited over your big win than you are.”
“Bartender!” Jonny stated. “Three more shots please we have a party pooper over here.”
“Fuck you.” Chris replied with a light smirk.
“That’s my buddy.” Jonny returned.
The bartender approached the trio and poured whiskey into their shit glasses, Jonny and Cynthia wasted not time, Chris hesitated.
“I want to kill that motherfucker.” Gibson said with pure aggression before taking back the shot also.
Cynthia and Jonny looked on, concerned for their friend for over 20 years. They all had some times to the professional world. Jonny being the youngest son to Ricky Morton of the Rock N’ Roll Express and Cynthia being the niece of Dory Funk Jr. and Terry Funk.
“Like Jonny said Chris, he’ll get what’s coming to him. You should be focused on that Rivers fellow.” Cynthia stated.
“Fuck Rivers, he’s not Chris, he’s no challenge.” Jonny stated in an exciting tone.
“No she’s right.” Gibson defended. “Cant take nobody lightly in this industry and you know that Jonny, and speaking of that when the fuck do you plan to join me so we can run the tag team division like back in the day.”
Jonny sighed. “You know the ACL man is still healing.”
Gibson rolled his eyes because he knew the abundance of excuses were following.
“…and besides I’m an alcoholic now just like my old man.” Jonny said as he motioned to the bartender to bring another line of shots.
“Whatever man, I’m about to get up out of here.” Gibson replied as he grabbed the illustrious OPW Prestige Championship and draped it over his shoulder.
“Dude what the fuck?!?” Jonny said.
“Relax man, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Gibson replied placing his hand over Jonny’s shoulder whispering something into his ear.
“You guys better not be talking about me.” Cynthia said.
I knew what that smart ass statement was about, she was missing this dick. Jonny loved Cynthia tho, and if he ever found out that I was blowing her back out every chance I get then he’d probably commit double murder suicide, so what he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him.
“The world doesn’t revolve around you babygirl, how many times have we been through this.” Chris replied.
Cynthia smirked, Jonny turned his head and the smirk went away quick.
“Fuck it, since hot shot over here is leaving us deserted you want to hit the club?” Jonny questioned.
“I’m going to leave you to love birds to figure that out.” Chris said, he threw back the glass of whiskey before leaving a hundred dollar tip for the bartender.
As Gibson was leaving the bar, and walking towards his black tesla, he could hear in the far distance…
“That’s definitely Chris Gibson…”
“holy fucking shit”
Gibson could hear the click clack of heels so he knew exactly what was coming, and he was right, groupies…two of them. They looked about twenty-five maybe twenty-six, blonde and a brunette so they’ve probably been on and off friends for some time now.
They both ran up and gave Gibson a hug simultaneously almost knocking him down, the OPW Prestige Championship however fell to the ground and everything in life seemed to pause.
They both went down to grab the title and knocked heads, almost as if they were competing with each other, it was amusing to Chris. They each held one strap of the title and was presenting it to Gibson who just glared at the young women.
He smiled.
“We apologize Mr.Gibson.” the two said simultaneously.
Gibson slowly grabbed his title from the two and placed the title back over his shoulder.
“What are y’all twins?”
The two smiled. “No we’re best friends.”
Gibson nodded. “You two are from around here?”
“We’re from New Jersey, we came to New York when we found out that you was an active wrestler again and signed with OPW, we had to come see you, I’ve been a fan of yours for years” the blonde woman stated.
Gibson could see Jonny and Cynthia coming out of the bar from a distance, Jonny had his arm over Cynthia and could barely walk, poor guy, Cynthia is the one who should be drunk, I mean that’s how I ended up clapping those cheeks.
Cynthia and I locked eyes, she saw the two women dying for my attention, and dying to get piped down by him.
She almost dropped Jonny for how long she stared, Gibson knew she was jealous, but she had nothing to be jealous over honestly, Gibson isn’t tied down to no woman, Chris through life experiences has learned to not become attached to nothing in this world especially women.
Gibson turned his attention to his next victims.
“…So what are you two ladies doing tonight.” Gibson stated.
“Well we were just on our way back home.” the brunette replied.
“Change of plans.” Gibson said with a sly smirk.
The two almost instantly began to blush, and they were equally thick in all the right places, it only made for a great night for the new champ.
———
Chris Gibson sat in a dark room, he wore glasses with a black suit, the OPW Prestige Championship
draped over his shoulder, a beer in his left hand.
He took a sip and then looked up to the only light that shine in the room.
I told you people exactly what I was going to do. I told you that I was going to put to rest the facade of one Jason Ryan and win the Prestige Championship.
Are you all paying attention now?
Now is this time where you all think I’m supposed to fold, maybe just maybe my win of Jason Ryan could’ve been a different story without the presence of Dark Tiger, but make no fucking mistake Tiger or no Tiger the outcome would’ve been the same, me standing over the broken body of Jason Ryan.
It’s easy to become champion, but it’s hell to stay champion, and a championship like this that is defended religiously is even more difficult to compete because week in and week out I must be on the top of my game.
You see the thing about this industry is that some people peak early, and some peak later in their careers. I’ve been in the game a long damn time, and I can assure you that this is the final form of Chris Gibson that will show the world that I am everything I say I am and more.
Gibson takes another long sip of his beer, and wipes his mouth and adjusts his championship.
You see for years and years I tried desperately to be at the top that I began to become such a rebel to ownership that anyone who didn’t see me as the best fucking product in the business was all apart of a conspiracy to keep me grounded. I was naive the, a prisoner in my own mind.
I became unhinged, but honestly it was because I’ve been misunderstood my entire life. Nobody understands me, that’s why I march to my own beat, you don’t see me with followers nor do you see me being a lackey to anybody, anyone I’ve ever associated myself with has been an enemy of mine beforehand. I trust nobody in this industry, I am a product of my environment.
Which brings me to Christian Rivers.
I come from a different era in this game Rivers. You see I’m not your typical loud mouthed arrogant S.O.B, no sir. I’ve become comfortable with my own career and my own journey that I can give respect where respect is due and you Rivers have ultimately earned my respect.
The old and in retrospect younger version of myself would hurl at the idea of giving anyone their flowers, but you Rivers have earned them from me.
How can that be when I know little to nothing about you?
My idol Niccolo Machiavelli once stated “Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”
You appear to be a challenge Rivers, you appear to be a noble man with little to no negative qualities about yourself. You’re well dressed, well mannered you understand what this business is all about but that’s what you APPEAR as.
You may be internally weak, a shell of your former self, a man who is indecisive so how can you be a man if you can’t even decide if you want to be technical or a busier. You can’t truly be a challenge to me and this championship, I can respect you and cast my doubts about you.
I think you’ve had a great career, and that I should be your last match. Think about it this way, you lost to the best professional wrestler in the world in your last match, you gave it your wall, all your bloods sweat and tears you’ve given up until this point wasn’t in vain no it’s been put to well use.
There’s no shame in defeat Rivers, you can leave this industry that has caused you all kinds of torment and pain with your head held high, your balls still in tact, your limbs flexible enough to go find a regular job that you’ll be able to make grown man decisions about.
This however has passed you by, but that’s evolution sir.
I’d be honored to put you down for good Rivers, I’d be honored to be your final contest in the world of professional wrestling, just as you would be honored for be the first man to lose to me for this coveted championship, it’s a win-win situation.
However, if you decide to go against my word and continue to pursue me and this title then I’ll have no choice but to end you without your consent.
I can be vile Rivers, you’ve seen it on display on Jason Ryan a man you couldn’t defeat and a man I made look like a second rate wrestler.
Show me, show the world, show those idiotic OPW fans how good you are, if you are everything you proclaim to be and try and take this championship away from me, I just hope…you’re ready to die trying.
STATIC