Post by stratford on Jul 13, 2020 18:41:35 GMT -5
… july 10th 2020, sundown, french district nola ...
Tapping carefully at the keys of his laptop, he looked up over the rim of his glasses toward the window. The dusk was coming, the last of the daylight disappearing over the horizon. (Sorry flat-earthers, it’s a thing. The sun disappears because of the rotation of the big rock we’re all stuck on.) It isn’t long before he will be on the road again, leaving his house behind for another week.
He was content living the way he had lived for the past ten years, that much is sure, but that itching feeling deep under his skin where he couldn’t reach? That’s where he’d started feeling relief ever since he signed that contract with Johnny Stylez two months ago.
That idiot had no idea what he was getting himself into, though. The Protagonist did so through grit teeth, then sat back and observed as what he thought to be true started unveiling itself before his very eyes.
As is well-told by now, The Protagonist had somewhat of an issue with unchecked power. Well, unchecked, checked, whatever. Power corrupts all. So when he saw what went down at INJUSTICE 4 ALL, he started plotting his move. It was no surprise, however, when all the little pieces started falling into place between HIGHWAY 2 HELL and now, preparing themselves for STAIRWAY 2 HEAVEN.
Id: It has always been predictable. This faux power struggle, what wrinkle will we see this week? Another knife in the back? Another twist that “nobody expects”? It’s interesting though, because there is a wildcard in play. Something that nobody, not even me, predicted. This week things could get real fucking interesting.
He was talking, of course, about the main event at Showcase #16.
Id: This week, there’s a psychopath on the loose and Swan can’t just buy off the opposition this time. I’ve always hated telenovelas, but this one episode has just got me by the nuts. I can’t wait to see her drown in her own arrogance, with all her peons from both sides sat on the sidelines, unable to do a fucking thing about it. I haven’t drank in years, its a problem for me, but to watch that?
that’ll be a cold one
..STRAIGHT UP..
The Protagonist was stood at his window, facing away, looking onto the street outside. Just a block away from the riverfront, there was milling foot traffic even at this time of day, even in this time of pseudo lockdown. He rolled his eyes, and gripped his bicep through the black longsleeve cotton shirt he was wearing. The cuff was upturned to his elbow, and the buttons weren’t done. A rare glimpse at his chest, which was usually covered even when competing. He had several tattoos, including a prominent pointed star that jutted out toward his collarbone. Cracking his neck to the side, he turned back around and edged closer to his desk once more, steel-toed combat boots clicking the hard polished wooden floor.
Id: See, Apathy’s not just the filler and pawn that you hoped she would be when this match was made. She’s coming in hot, and I can’t wait to see how they dress this up to keep everything all nice and neat and in a bow. If Swan walks away with the title, it will be because Apathy got fucked over in the highest order. Take that as a fact. And I watch on intently, because I want to disrupt the status quo, I want to grab this place by the neck and shake the stupid out of it.
DISLODGE THE ROTTEN APPLE
FROM THE TOP OF THE TREE
...before the disease spreads…
Id: I’m not selfish in my desire to save OPW from the very people who conceived it. Whether it is me, Apathy, Scotty Adams, or any other of the pawns that’ve been lined up to take part in STAIRWAY 2 HEAVEN its all the same. The sooner they are demonopolised, the better. The problem I got, though, is whether Apathy is legit or not? The more and more I look at shit, the more and more incest I see. She’s sucked all the same dicks, swallowed all the same cum as Swan, so what’s the difference anyway? Apathy, Swan, Wolf, whatever. Wipe them all out, just to be sure. What’d they say?
STAY HOME.
STOP THE SPREAD.
SAVE LIVES.
.
.
.
...ITS ME...
...ALONE...
.
.
...ITS ME...
...ALONE...
AGAINST THE ESTABLISHMENT
and i can't fucking wait
and i can't fucking wait
He heaved out a sigh, closed his eyes, and grabbed his travel bag that was by the door.
... july 14th 2020, 5pm, detroit michigan ...
‘This is it’, he thought to himself, as he prepared himself for the show. He always went through a ritual with himself, to snap him out of the keyboard warrior that he’d become, and into something more gladiatorial.
He sat on the edge of a lumpy bed that creaked whenever he shifted position, listening to the sound of distant traffic filter through the thin walls of the motel room that Outlaw Pro Wrestling had sequestered him in for this show. The sound mingled freely with the noise of a television set in an adjacent room tuned too loudly to a ball game. The Protagonist concentrated on the sound for a moment, and guessed that the Red Sox were at Fenway. No live sport at the moment, but like most networks, it was likely showing a rerun. He was the last one to perform sport at Fenway, he thought to himself. For a moment, he considered flicking on the set in the corner of his room, but decided against it. He hated the Red Sox, and they’d probably win, it was probably that year, and he didn’t want to experience more frustration, not even the transitory frustration that sports fans across the world undergo in the toils and troubles of following a team. Instead, he turned to the window, staring out into the evening. He had not drawn the shades, and could see headlights slicing down the nearby interstate highway. There was a red neon sign by the driveway to the motel, which informed drivers that nightly, weekly and monthly rates were available, as were kitchenettes such as the one he occupied, although why anyone would want to stay in that location for more than a single night eluded the Protagonist.
He rose from his seat and went into the small bathroom. He inspected his appearance in the mirror above the sink. What looked back at him was always a surprise, because he felt like the man that he was 15 years ago, but what stared back at him was an aged man. Grey hairs that were once sprinkled in his auburn hair and beard were starting to take over. The shaved sides were completely white, his beard barely had a single one. But not only that, his face was weathered, contoured, aged. His eyes, framed by thick eyebrows, looked wearily back at him. A handful of cold water splashed against his face, and a sigh.
Years of solitude had meant that he didn’t have a great need or want to look after himself in the traditional aesthetic sense, he didn’t take care of his skin or pay much attention to what he was consuming until much more recently, when he had decided that he wanted to achieve something once more. But the one thing his years of solitude had done for him, however, was help him to feel comfortable in silence. He didn’t feel the need to do something all of the time, he was happy to just go at his own pace. He had been collecting his thoughts ahead of his battle with Scotty Adams at Showcase #16, and now he was just preparing himself mentally to go and deliver. He had already scribed his thoughts on the matter, so it was a matter of execution.
He arched his back, again at the window, looking on the parking lot down below. On the bed was his Macbook, open on Google Docs, his notes written out.
Adams is probably one of the few that its clear is not involved in this weird push and shove of power between the Wolfpack and the Syndicate. I’m pretty sure its the reason I’ve been given him, or it might be because he fought X last week. Whatever. It doesnt matter, he’s just a guy, and I know they’re trying to bury me, trying to make me seem insignificant. Last week it was that nobody Kip Kutler, made light work of him. Sure, talk about the fabricated obscene end to the fight if you wish, but that was a mismatch of the highest order, it wasn’t even remotely close. Now Adams.
Somehow, Adams is going to Stairway 2 Heaven alongside me. I know he wants to be a dark horse, just like me. He’s good, but he’s never been relevant, not at THIS LEVEL. There are levels to this game, we show it each and every week, each and every fight. There are levels. Adams belongs in a different division, he hasn’t had the life experience required to step toe to toe with the behemoth that looms over OPW, he has no idea.
The machine will eat him up and spit him out, he hasn’t got the wily grit and determination to persevere. Like I said, they’re burying me, trying to make me think I’m overhyped, I only beat the equivalent of local talent, or something.
Give me somebody worthy.
When it comes to Stairway 2 Heaven, Adams is the kind of person I will need to look out for, he could be a difference maker, because I know he has no allegiance to either side and they have no allegiance to him. He’s too insignificant, but that is what makes him a kingmaker.
This week, I get to step up to him, to go man to man, to taste the flavor of his fight. Measure him up for size. Some other cliches that I probably forgot, you know what I mean. This is such an important fight. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter, it has never mattered. Its about the end goal, its about what happens above that glass ceiling, its about Stairway 2 Heaven, all roads lead there. If there’s a bump on the road, it is there to learn from.
I know, all variables aside, I will tear that poor kid to shreds and leave him unsure of his position in the organization, in his profession and in his manhood. But this is a world where things just happen, for no reason at all, and I’ve come to live with that, to understand it. So I will focus on the things that matter, learning what I need to learn, gaining the upper hand for when the upper hand matters.
Scotty Adams is the Kingmaker, controlling his destiny at Stairway 2 Heaven is going to be the difference in the power struggle at the top, I will make sure he personally crowns me champion. He will end the dynasty, the oligarchy, and I will fucking make him because of what I do to him at Showcase.
Mark my words.
Despite all of their attempts to stifle my rise, Stairway is undeniable. They won’t deny me any more. I will be noticed.
Give me somebody worthy.