Forging a Legacy, whether you like it or not... IC Tourney
Apr 30, 2017 21:53:53 GMT -5
Andy Johnson Page likes this
Post by TheNewBreed on Apr 30, 2017 21:53:53 GMT -5
We are on the verge of the greatest Sports Entertainment Event in the history of our business.
Men and women will clash on the biggest stage of the year in front of nearly one hundred thousand people in attendance... live... and the millions around the world watching from home!
Wrestle Wars Eleven!!!
The night of Historic Moments is upon us... and while everyone on the roster has a night of memories and lofty goals ahead of them... none have a steeper road than I do.
Sure, the DVC has to retain their Tag Team Titles against whatever team manages to survive the gauntlet of men looking to be the ones to make it to the last match and earn the shot at those Titles... but they will be facing men who have already waged war with the deck stacked in the DVC's favor... all the while, holding all the rest of the cards themselves.
Hardly the challenge they make it out to be.
Sure, THE Glorious Tristan Slater has what has basically become a handicapped match for the most prestigious Title in our company against two of the most devious and conniving men in the industry today... but he is more than ready for the challenge, and he has more skill in his little finger than either of the other two combined. I have faith in my partner to pull off the win over both Paul Frost and that rat bastard MDK and prove, once and for all, who IS the undeniable World Heavyweight Champion of the WGWF.
Easiest fight on the card, all things considered... at least, in my opinion.
Sure, the rest of the pack of athletes who are slated to compete in the Intercontinental Title Tourney will have one hell of a long night ahead of them... to compete in a preliminary qualifying match and then to go back out and put their bodies on the line in a Triple Threat Ladder Match to win the WGWF IC Title is a long night for nearly anyone...
But I am not just anyone.
I am not your average run of the mill talent hawking their tee shirts and beer cozies for the margin share.
I am not just some guy who wandered in off the streets and thought he would take a look around the place and then just never left.
I am Johnathan “THE BEAST” Cable...
Trained by some of the finest personal trainers in the world...
Taught by one of the premier fighters in the world...
Raised my entire life ringside...
Forged in the fires of combat against the best the world could throw at me my entire life...
Tested and proven inside this very ring to be one of the toughest, most determined athletes to grace her canvas that ever laced up a pair of boots...
And I am finally ready to claim my seat among the greatest names in the history of the business, and on Monday night, in front of the entire world, I will climb the tallest ladder of them all, and persevere against all odds, setting more than just one record for Wrestle Wars... maybe even more than two!
That's right ladies and gentlemen... The Beast has set some lofty goals for Wrestle Wars.
I mean, while being the guy to show up at Wrestle Wars Eleven and be the first person to win three separate matches at a single Wrestle Wars card, and in doing so, become the only man to ever win a WGWF Title at Wrestle Wars and defend it on the same show would be impressive... but... If I'm lucky... I could draw Kyle Shane in a preliminary match, or face him in the finals, depending on who gets who in the random draw for brackets... and end his streak to be the first man to ever defeat Kyle Shane at Wrestle Wars!
That would be three WGWF Records shattered in a single night, which would actually give me the record for the most records broken in a single Wrestle Wars Event... at a whopping FOUR... count 'em... FOUR... WGWF WRESTLE WARS RECORDS IN A SINGLE NIGHT... ALL ON THE GRANDEST STAGE OF THEM ALL!!!
Now... you want to talk about pressure, Brother?
That is the kind of shit that forms diamonds right here... the kind of diamonds that shine on in the memories of the world for all time... and I wouldn't have it any other way!
I relish in it... the hunger inside me yearns for the chance to give my Breeders what they deserve... and there isn't a single person standing in my way that night that won't find out exactly what a nightmare it is to find themselves caught in the headlights of the raging Beast barreling at them at full bore, steamrolling right through the ranks of men and woman arrayed before me to solidify my seat at the Table of the Immortals.
No one else in the entire history of the company has ever had the opportunity I have right now, with just the right circumstances falling into place to become the perfect storm I was prophesied to be, and there isn't anyone out there that can stop me this time except me... but with nothing left to lose here for me, everything riding squarely on my shoulders and my shoulders alone, with every single eye focused on every move I make... I am loving every single second of it.
This is the moment I have trained my entire life for, and over the last four months, I have proven to everyone in the locker room, and every single fan out there, that I mean what I say and I bring the best I have to back it up, every time, every night, every single moment, and I am as ready as I have ever been.
Monday night is the night I lay to rest any doubt about who the future of this company truly is...
Monday night is the night that I quell the rumble about who's in who's shadow by putting the ENTIRE WGWF firmly under MY Shadow...
Monday night is the night... finally... that the Beast becomes the Icon I was always meant to be, and there isn't anything that any of you can do about it.
* * *
(Backstage at MONDAY NIGHT BRAWL From the Colonial Life Arena, Columbia, SC on March Sixth inside the locker room of the Glorious New Breed)
FLASH ROTTEN- "What might generate ratings and Pay-Per-View buys will be the ONE NIGHT TOURNAMENT we are going to see at WRESTLE WARS ELEVEN!"
There's a pop from the crowd!
FLASH ROTTEN- "That's right! Four men... three matches... ONE INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION!"
There's another ovation from the crowd as Flash directs his attention towards The Mandingo Man Beast.
FLASH ROTTEN- "Here's your shot. Don't screw it up!"
The Breeders rejoice as "The Glorious Mandingo Man Beast" has just been announced as ONE of the FOUR entrants to the One Night WGWF Intercontinental Championship Tournament at Wrestle Wars Eleven.
* * *
The misty drizzle of a cold spring night falls softly in the darkness of the cemetery as Johnathan Cable approaches the doors to a marble mausoleum adorned with a marble placard
'Winthrop' it reads in crisply chiseled letters.
He makes his way up to the doors quietly and inserts a key into the steel lock. The rusted gears of the machine grind loudly in contrast to the muted sounds of the rainy night as he turns the key in the lock. He pulls the ring handle and the screech of rusty hinges ring out into the night as the heavy steel door swings open before him.
He waits on the threshold for a moment, looking down at the finely polished marble slab floor. It has been a while since he has come here... since the last time he spoke to her... since he laid to rest his beloved Jessica here, in his family plot... right where she belonged.
Finally, he steps through the doorway and opens a small drawer concealed in the wall. He takes out two long, tapered white candles and two small brass bowls with flat bottoms. He makes his way towards the back of the small granite walled room after lighting the first candle on an oil lamp near the door, and comes to look at the plaque on the wall that reads 'Hank Winthrop'.
He places the first small bowl on a shelf of granite next to the plaque and stands the candle in the flat bottom as the flame flickers in the dark casting long, strange shadows against the walls.
“Well, Dad...” he begins after a long moment to gather his thoughts.
“This is it...” he sighs.
“This is my one chance to do it ALL.” he finally just blurts out, almost exasperated at the immensity of it all.
“This is the one shot I get to finally forge a Legacy of my own and make all your work with me actually mean something.” he says with conviction and hope.
“His words ring in my ears all the time, you know?” he reflects cautiously.
“'Here's your shot. Don't screw it up!'...
'Don't screw it up!'...
'Don't screw it up!'...” he repeats nearly in a whisper.
“It isn't the first time I've heard them, either.” he reminds his father's ghost matter-of-factly.
“Every time... every single time someone has said those words to me... I have rose to the occasion... I have beaten the odds... I have proven myself worthy...” he says.
“And this time won't be any different.” he says with a stern conviction as he rests his hand on the cold granite of the wall next to his father's nameplate.
“It won't be any different than when Sean Corvik told me that I only had one chance to save my wife from the Royal Family, and I did that.” he says to the wall as he relives the hellish nightmares of the time his departed wife was kidnapped and tortured by madmen.
“It won't be any different than when Straight Hate told me I had once chance to come get the EWCL Extreme Championship... and I did that.” he recounts as the images of the Iron Circle Match that finished off the job of deforming his face Sean Corvik started just a few weeks beforehand flash through his mind.
“It won't be any different than when my original tag partner, my soon to be brother-in-law, Aaron Gold, told me I only had one chance to reclaim that Extreme Title... and I did that, too.” he says sadly as he remembers the war he and Aaron fought over that Title, and how it affected their lives for years afterward.
“It won't be any different than when Sebastian St. Paul and I went out and won back the PCW Tag Team Titles from the Fabulous Freebooters and became the PCW Tag Team of the Year either.” he says with a smile remembering his return to civilization after a long sabbatical to join Sebastian St. Paul in the PCW and replace his mimic and win the PCW Tag Team Titles.
“It won't be any different than when my doctors told me I would never walk again, let alone wrestle... and look at me now?” he says as the grin spreads wryly across his face as he flexes his legs one at a time.
“I have faced hard challenges my entire life... I have faced tough opponents both inside and outside of that ring... and nothing has ever stopped me from pushing against the adversity... clawing my way forward... straining with everything I've got... giving it my all just to attain my goals and forge the way ahead... and this will not be the night of exceptions for me!” he finishes as confidence wells up within him at what he has faced and not just survived, but excelled ahead at every roadblock.
“You raised me better than that, Dad.” he admits sadly but full of pride.
“There is no quit inside your son... and on Monday night... everything I have worked so hard to achieve throughout my life is finally all right there, just within my grasp... and I'll be damned if anyone... and I do mean ANYONE... is going to get in the way of me doing what I'm coming to Phoenix to do... and that is become a living LEGEND in front of the whole world as my witness!” he says with gritted teeth, the confidence filling his heart with hope and determination for the challenge ahead of him.
“I swear it, Hank. I'll make you proud of me. I will.” he promises as he lays his forehead against the plaque and sighs.
* * *
As John stands there in the candlelight with his forehead pressed against the granite, the creak of the door startles him, and as he spins, he sees someone he never would have expected to be there... and wished immediately that she wasn't.
“What the fuck are YOU doing here?” he demands nearly in a whisper, his immediate rage thick and hot in his throat as he turns to face her across the flickering room, his eyes narrowed and the gaze cutting across the room would kill if it could.
“Oh, now Johnny boy... don't be like that?” she says slyly. Her words drip with danger, and John doesn't mistake the viper for what it is.
“You'll be lucky if I don't beat you to death and drop you off in the nearest swamp, you crazy bitch! Get the fuck out of here, and DON”T EVER let me see you here again!” he screams at her, her audacity fueling his anger and every moment the sly smile graces her face, his rage grows hotter and hotter.
“Now Johnny... it doesn't have to be like that. We could make up and be the best of...” she starts, but he cuts her off.
“I will never forgive what you have done to my family you murderous whore!” he screams at her as he rushes across the room and grabs her by the shoulders, slamming her violently into the granite wall as she screams out in pain.
“Oh... Johnny... I didn't know that this would be one of THOSE kinds of graveyard meet ups. I would've worn better lingerie if I had.” she giggles sadistically at him as he seethes at her.
“Shut the fuck up and get out of here! If there was any way I could, I would have you rotting in the bottom of a jail cell by now!” he shouts at her, his frustration evident, every moment of it spurring her to goad him some more.
“But you can't prove anything... because I'm not an idiot. Now... that mimic I hired to play you while you were away... he was a tool and a half, but your friend Sebastian... now he really knows how to shut a guy up real fast, now doesn't he? It's a shame really... SSP killing the only person who could have testified against me... oh, the headache he saved me right there... you know?” she smiles up at him through her curled brunette tresses.
“It was an amazing shot too... right between the eyes at nearly 40 yards with a revolver... wow! It was so...” she starts to gloat about the night the Cable mimic finally got his just desserts for the murder of Sebastian's adopted son, Charlie and the near death of Nathan Sanity backstage at a PCW taping several years ago, now.
“Shut the fuck up!” John screams at her as he shoves his hand over her face, stifling her words and her airflow.
“You don't get to gloat or be happy about this shit! You killed a kid... Sebastian's son, no less... then tried to kill another man who had nothing to do with this bullshit scheme of yours to lure Jessica away from me and tear the Foundation apart from the inside, and FOR WHAT??? Some fucking money, you greedy bitch?” he screams at her, spit flying from lips as he rages on, seriously contemplating just killing her right then and there in the mausoleum and dumping her ass in the woods somewhere for the gators or the pigs to find.
She laughs at him now, not a mere sly giggle with lecherous intent, but a full super-villain-esque belly laugh. The sound of it echoed through the small granite room as if it were fed through a speaker system, reverberating off of the walls and adding a nearly surreal tone to the whole thing.
“You stupid animal! It was never about the money. HA!” she laughs at him, struggling to free her face from his grip as she tries to composes herself.
“It was never about your damned company either, you dolt.” she admits as she grit her teeth now as John removes his hand, and staggers back a step in disbelief.
“It was always just about tearing everything you had apart and making you suffer you fucking tool. You offered me a chance to live the life I always dreamed of, and then you just took it all away like it was nothing to you. The time I shared with you and Jessica was wonderful... every single moment of it... until you threw it, and me, right into the streets.” she claims calmly, her words even and controlled, but the passion in her for the pain she has caused belies her real feelings. You can hear the psychotic glee elicited by it in her tone as every word strikes home. The fire of the hunter she really is burns inside her and roars like an inferno in her eyes as she looks at John across the small space between them.
“You're fucking crazy you psycho! Get the fuck out of here, seriously, before I change my mind, and give you what you really have coming to you for everything you've done to us! I can't even believe the nerve of you, you insipid ass...” he warns her before she cuts him off, her tone no longer giggly, but serious, and cold.
“You won't do anything scared little twat. You won't dare do what a real man would and finish me off. You're too worried about your god damned fans and your career and your fucking company to grow the nuts you need to actually do it you pussy son of a bitch! You don't have it in you... and that's why you never deserved her in the first...” she scolds him before the mention of his wife makes him snap.
With a lightning fast strike, John backhands her across the face sending her sprawling to the floor.
“You shut the fuck up about her, or I swear to GOD... I will kill your ass right now!” he says to her menacingly as he stands over her glaring at her on the floor.
“Touchy are we, Johnny boy? You don't like it when I tell you why you weren't man enough to keep her ar...” she starts to goad him, but he loses it in an instant as she mentions her again, and John reaches down, grabbing her with both hands around the throat and hoisting her bodily into the air as her feet dangle a good foot from the marble below as one of her heels slip off of her foot and clatters to the stone.
“I said shut the fuck up, Andrea!” he screams in her face as he squeezes the life out of her. Her face turns red, and then finally begins to go purple as her eyes begin to pop from her sockets and the veins in her forehead stand out against her skull as she claws at him to try to get free.
Moments pass like eons as he shakes her like a rag doll and her face puffs up as she runs out of air and the blood is trapped above her neck as John squeezes.
Finally, with a tremendous surge of strength, John throws her through the doorway, bouncing heavily off of the door and rolling down the short flight of stairs into the grass outside in the darkness. Blood drips down her forehead from a gash near her hairline, and her ear is bleeding as the scarlet river trails down her neck and onto the collar of her blouse.
John steps through the doorway behind her, closing the heavy door and turns the key loudly in the rusted lock.
“I 'm only going to tell you this one last time... do not let me see you ever again... anywhere... or I will finish what I just started. I fucking swear it on Jessica's grave!” Johnathan says to her through gritted teeth as he steps over her body and makes his way towards his Jeep as the scene fades to black.
* * *
The scene opens on the now familiar set of 'Ladies night with Denise Essex' as Denise makes her way onto the stage to the standing ovation her in studio audience is showering her with. She makes her way out onto the stage smiling at her fans, and finally gets them settled back in their seats before she begins.
“Ladies... tonight, as part of our series focusing on the greatest show of the year for the WGWF... we are going to have a special guest with us right here in the studio as we examine the road this Superstar has taken to get where he is today, on the verge of shattering Wrestle Wars records left and right... blazing a towering inferno of a trail towards his own Hall of Fame nomination... and making a name for himself here in the last few months, against all odds... founder and President of the Glorious New Breed Foundation... none other than Johnathan “the Mandingo Man Beast” Cable!” she announces as the fans cheer loudly for the guest tonight.
“That's right ladies... tonight, after we examine the circumstances that has led him to this very moment, how everything has come together to allow Cable the rare opportunities he has this weekend in Phoenix to brew up just the perfect storm for record breaking... we will have 'the Man Beast' out here... live... to answer some questions from our followers on Twitter and WGWFInsider... “ she introduces her audience to the agenda for the night happily.
“But first...” she moves along with the intro as the scene fades out, then fades back in later in the episode.
“Welcome back ladies... and now it's that time of the night for your favorite part. I know it's mine...” she says as she smiles shyly and bats her eyelashes as the crowd woos and whistles knowingly.
“It's time to bring out of special guest for the evening... Johnathan Cable everyone!” she introducing him as he enters the stage from the left, and makes his way across the front of the stage to take a bow for the fans out there cheering their hearts out and waving New Breed signs in the back, smiling at them the whole time.
He makes his way to the couches and gives Denise a big hug as she looks over his shoulder and lifts her one leg up winking at the audience who woos and whistles some more at her antics before Cable waves off the adoration with a 'No... no... no... not me... you guys' gesture, the modesty only winning him more cheers and claps from the fans in attendance in the small studio.
“Seriously... this never gets old! It never does...” he says with a grin and stands up goading the fans into more cheers as he bows again and blows kisses at the audience giddily.
“I bet it doesn't for a guy like you. Well you deserve it, anyway. You do so much for so many, all just because you can, and you want to help out.” she says as the fans all cheer and clap yet again.
“I just do what I am capable of doing. It just so happens that with fame comes connections and favors, and instead of using that system of business trading to gain more wealth for myself, I do what I can to ensure the funding of as many non-profit organizations as I can that really make a difference out there in the real world, where kids go hungry and die from violence in the street and families struggle to make ends meet without having to face catastrophes, let alone dealing with a hardship along the way... that's all.” he explains meekly to the adoration of the fans there in the studio.
“John... seriously... to see you in a match like the one with Silence, or the No DQ match with the Extinction... or even the Hell in a Cell just a few days ago... then to see you here, like this now, talking about the charity work that help to facilitate and the great amount of good you do in communities around the world... it is a stark difference! It's as if there are two very different sides of you, and one of them is this gentle giant, so full of life and want to do so many great things, and then there is this monster... the Beast part of you... that quite frankly, terrifies me to no end. Are you a case of Multiple Personality Disorder, or is there something else going on here? How does a man like you have this switch, and how does it work? What makes the Man-Beast tick, so to speak?” she asks longwindedly before turning the mic towards John for a reply.
“Well, honestly, Denise... I have been examined by lots of quacks in my lifetime starting at a very early age, and while I, like nearly everyone else in this business, DO suffer from a plethora of mental challenges... MPD is not part of the cocktail. Sorry. No, inside that ring... it's just that it's never a thing of intimate tenderness... it's ONLY harsh and painful on that canvas... inside those ropes... at the mercy of 'that man over there' trying to hurt you for his own victory rush if you let it be that... but that's the only thing it can ever be. My dad taught me that the real trick to winning any fight you ever get into, as simple as this sounds, is to minimize damage taken and maximize damage inflicted. Last longer than your opponent and strike only when you know you can take away one of their weapons. Patience is power, and when the time is right... you finish it before they finish you. There is no room inside that ring for fanciful ideas about being a performer and making the show good by just grappling your opponent into stalemate counter-chains. There is only winning... by dismantling your opponent and taking your claim to victory by brutally savage methods. No one is ever going to hand it to you... you will always have to take it for yourself.” he answers bluntly with a far away look in his eye, thinking of another place in time.
[Hank stands outside the ring in the dojo downstairs in the gym that is their home. John had been here for a while now and had become one of Hank's best fighters. He is in his training sweats and has almost as much sweat soaking through his gray shirt as John does in the ring.
“Don't you dare hit him. You hear me, John? I want you to wear him out... not beat him down.” Hank shouts into the ring as John touches gloves with another young fighter from the gym.
The kids are both in their late teens, and while John has him in height by a few inches, the mass of knotted muscles piled onto the other kid's frame was impressive for his age.
For his power though, his bulk made him a bit clunky and awkward with his body when he fought. His movements were easy to telegraph. John easily sidestepped or ducked under the powerful swings this kid was throwing but was having a hard time not throwing counter-punches or mounting an offense at all, and it was affecting his ability to flow naturally through the fight. He was having a rough time of adjusting too since the kid was honestly trying to fight John and earn his lunch, so to speak.
It was a little surprising to him, but John was more agile and sure of himself than this powerhouse seemed to be. He easily moved circles around his match-up for sparring that day...
But when the kid DID connect...
When the kid DID manage to land a shot...
They MEANT something.
Every single one of them.
He would feel them for days after this.
“OK... Seriously... When are you going to let me hit him, Hank? I can beat this guy... but man! Those gloves feel like he's got cinder blocks in there!” John huffs and sputters in the corner during a round break.
“I don't want to hear it, John. I said don't hit him. Don't you even take a swing at him! That isn't what today's sparring match is about. I'm trying to teach you something here... if you would just shut your mouth and move more this wouldn't hurt so bad! Now... get in there and dodge your ass off! Hup Hup!” Hank barks at him and yanks the stool out from under him as he climbs back out of the ring to start round five.
“Just keep an eye out for spots you COULD throw punches... and try not to get knocked out. The faster you wind him, the faster you can win without even throwing a blow. Try it out kid... it might just work!” Hank shouts over his shoulder as he reaches the floor again and the bell sounds to start the next round.]
“Well, John... It has been lovely to have you on with us here tonight... but we have to take a commercial break. Stick around with us here on 'Ladies Night with me... Denise Essex... and John Cable'... right after this!” she says as they cut to commercial break.
After the commercial break, the camera pans back in on the set of 'Ladies Night' with special guest host, Johnathan Cable joining Denise on air.
“So... John... needless to say you have a pretty big night ahead of you on Monday. How does someone in your particular situation deal with that kind of pressure and actually keep their focus to do what you have set out to do?” Denise asks him pointedly, wanting to really get inside his method and try to figure him out.
“Honestly, Denise, this is just the kind of thing I have been waiting for to really prove myself. If you haven't noticed, I talk a lot about forging a Legacy, and becoming a Hall of Famer. At my age, with as many places as I have worked across the two decades plus I have been doing this professionally... unless I do something right now... something to be remembered for... it will never happen. I will eventually be forgotten. So, really this isn't just about winning the WGWF Intercontinental Title and claiming my first singles Title in over twenty years. This isn't about being the first man to win a WGWF Title at Wrestle Wars and then successfully defend it on the same night... and there damned sure isn't anyone else who can say they have the balls to step out there in front of nearly a million fans live... in possibly their first WGWF IC Title defense... with an Icon like Famine of the Vile... and try what I am attempting to accomplish here at Wrestle Wars. This is even bigger than being the guy to set more records at a single Wrestle Wars than anyone else in the history of the WGWF! This is about more than knocking off Kyle Shane's perfect streak, and it is about more than even a Hall of Fame nod in the future for me...” he says as he holds his hands up and spreads them wider and wider with each milestone until they are held as far apart as he can hold them.
“This is about my immortality.” he says flatly, his eyes glazed in a far away stare with his hands outstretched before him.
[“You're damned lucky you're not going to rot in a jail cell! I mean... what were you thinking, anyway? I told you to stay as far away from Vinny as you could, and what did you do? You ran right over there, and hopped into the viper's nest, for god's sake!” Hank yells at a seventeen-year-old Johnathan sitting at the foot of the slender staircase that leads up to the apartment above.
“Dad... look I...” John starts to explain again, tears streaming down his face.
“Don't you give me that 'BUT DAD I...' crap! You got her killed, John... and then flushed your whole damned career down the drain with that rampage that cost all those men their lives. Nobody is ever going to sign you to match now, John. No one! Who the hell would sign on to fight a guy who killed almost thirty people and got off on technicalities at the age of seventeen? You've ruined everything... all because you're too stubborn to listen to good reason!” Hank screams, every word cutting like a knife into John's heart.
Just knowing how disappointed Hank was made this whole thing even worse.
Losing his fiance... coming to terms with what he had done... alienating his adopted father, maybe forever this time...
It was all just too much for him to take.
“I'm going for a walk, John. Clean the machines while I'm gone... and we'll figure out what to do with you later. I need some time to think.” Hank says over his shoulder as he walks through the creaky screen door and into the hallways that leads outside.
John sits there, with his head resting on his forearms for a mere moment before the images of Vivian's blood smeared all over his locker room at the warehouse that night started to flood his mind again.
The crimson stains streaked across the walls and the floor... the finger smears of the words written in her blood by his hand...
“NO!” John shouted at himself as he shot up and went to gather a rag and the glass cleaner. That night still hadn't fully processed in his mind yet. It was so... numbing... he whole experience was. To have caused so much damage in the frenzy he had succumbed to over the loss of his fiance`... it made question so much about himself... about who he was that he could be the monster he had to be to have done the things he had just done... but he HAD done them.
He moves along the pictures frames wiping the dust from the edges and clearing the fingerprints of zealous students from the glass of the memorabilia displays. Newspaper clippings and articles about Hank's glory days as a boxer hung from every square inch of the walls.
Every single one of them was given to Hank as a gift, for one reason or another, to display in the gym. They had all been given to him by one of his students, or a charity he had worked with on a fundraiser, or a member of the community... anyone who wanted to acknowledge Hank Winthrop for what he had done for so many people since he had retired and become a trainer.
There were thousands of them.
“And now... his one chance to rekindle the spark of his namesake in the industry he has spent so much of his life devoted to... his chance to have a generational legacy... is all gone like it had never been there... and it's all my fault.” John whispers to himself while he cleans the frames sadly and the scene fades to black.]
* * *