Post by Ezra Gideon on Apr 21, 2023 18:42:38 GMT -5
“War does not determine who is right — only who is left.”
― Anonymous
― Anonymous
Foreword
The door opens and swings open almost silently as I step into the room. I swing the door back closed and it latches with an almost audible click. The studio in our home in Las Vegas is well lit, between the natural light that comes in through the many windows here and the canned light in the ceiling. I move toward the office chair and set my black stetson down there. Then I decide, it’s time to get down to business. Now standing in front of the microphone, I begin adjusting the pop filter, making sure it is exactly where I need it to be.
Well, hello there WGWF. I am freshly back from the dead.
Holding my arms out for all to see, I turn around slowly so they can appreciate the view. Tight wranglers, freshly pressed blue button-down shirt.
Not too bad for an old dead guy, right?
I chuckle softly to myself.
On a more serious note, yes, Bam and I tried to kill each other not so long ago. If you watched the match then you know it was obvious what was going on there. It was an epic and bloody battle in every sense of the word. Bam gave as good as he got, that boys and girls are how you earn respect. You show up and show out. I told Bam the same thing, I enjoyed the fight and the bloodshed, the pain and everything that went along with that territory. Some of the fans commented on my not using weapons.
I make the motion of dusting off my hands and smile.
That’s a super easy question to answer, I’ve been hurting people for a long time. There have been many times that I did not know the limits of my own strength, that I’ve hurt people badly and I don’t want to be the reason that someone can’t feed their family for long periods of time.
I smirk at the lens, all traces of friendliness are now gone.
Unless you’ve earned it. Then you get the maximum carnage from me where everything is on the table. Not a good place to be.
I feel the hate start to surge, some of the people in this match deserve every ounce of hate I can bring to the table, while others have done nothing wrong. My eyes briefly turn as black as the night, then just as quickly revert back to the normal color.
Now I have to turn my attention to the coming war. War Games that is. Both statements are accurate by the way, just in case you lost track or weren’t keeping score at home.
Still holding the rage in check, I sigh a long sigh.
I’ve not forgotten the many beatdowns that, Jon, myself, and Tristan have been on the receiving end of. Or the receipts that are owed to Fred, JMont, Flynn, and others I say almost in a hissing sound. I forget nothing, I could just let it go but where is the fun in that? When there is blood to be shed, I’m here for it.
The black eyes return as the scene fades.
The Aftermath
Moments after the bell had rung, my black eyes returned to their normal color. The rage I had felt slipped away as a tide receded back into the ocean. That rage was replaced with enthusiasm and love by those I was bonded to. They were all there, Whisper, Kim, Kat, Rene, Amber, and many others. They were elated for me and by what I’d done. Another foe vanquished and another fight won. It had been close, closer than any fight I’d had in a while. Bam had tested me in a way that none thought possible. I was extremely proud of him for that, he had come such a long way. Until he proved otherwise, my issues with him were resolved. He was still a part of the Kingdom but now that was more about Fred than anyone. With help of the EMTs, I stood up to the roar of the crowd inside of the arena. I smiled weakly but it was still genuine, I have always appreciated their support, even when I did things that they didn’t approve of. I was standing on my own with a partially patched head wound and that’s when I saw it. I motioned Kat over, “Follow me, sis.” I knew she probably thought I was crazy but I went to the hood of the Dodge Challenger, it had been white before Bam and I got a hold of it. “Take a picture of that, would you? It gave me an idea for something.” She shrugged her shoulders and did as I asked. It was the pattern of the mix of mine and Bam’s blood that triggered my creative side and gave me an idea for a potential template for something really cool. “With a little tweaking this could become a thing,” I smiled as the blood trickled down the left side of my face.
“Brother mine, don’t you think you should let the EMTs finish stitching you up?” I looked up at her and grinned. I looked over at the EMT still standing by the cage door, “Sorry miss, I’ll be right over.” The four women who made up the core of our family, I could have sworn it was in unison as they rolled their eyes at me. I got a little woozy and suddenly I could smell cinnamon as Amber helped Kat support me all the way back to the ambulance. “Stubborn god damned donkey,” I heard Amber whisper to me. I giggled like a schoolboy, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Red.” I know that if I hadn’t already lost a lot of blood and the fact that I was still bleeding was the only thing that kept Kat from smacking me in the back of the head. She gave me a playful headbutt, as did each of them after I had sat down on the gurney. “He’s gonna need a few stitches,” the EMT said as she got me to try and lay back. “There’ll be none of that, young lady.” I said emphatically, “I’ll not be carried away on a stretcher.” She looked puzzled for a moment but it was Kim that intervened, on my behalf. “Miss, give us a moment to talk to him?” The EMT nodded and stepped away. Kim helped me to stand up and then Whisper, Kat, and Amber loaded the gurney back into the ambulance. “You’re still going to the hospital,” Kim said quietly. Then the ladies waited for a moment, “Alright, I understand.” I winked at them and climbed into the back and sat on the gurney.
Amber, “We’ll follow the ambulance and check on you at the hospital.” I waved to them as the EMT shut the door to the ambulance. No sirens, flashing lights, just an easy ride to the hospital. Kat had sent the picture of the car as I had asked, “The Parking Lot Brawl,” I mused, “Gonna be a top seller at the shop.” A new visceral paint design for vehicles, I couldn’t help but be sure that this was gonna be a money maker. “Hell, I’ll even pay Bam royalties for being a contributor.”
Fade
Choosing Your Battles Wisely
I stood in the same spot that I had been in when we finished the Foreword and now it was time to really dig in and talk about some things.
Welcome back ya’ll. Now I don’t want the viewers or my peers to think that I’ve been sitting idle, while I’ve been away. I’ve got a full schedule and have been working through the injuries as best as I can. Competing with Tristan over in TPW, we’re doing pretty well in the Sex Cup, and over in IIW I’m competing in a tournament to crown a new International Champion. None of that mattered to the doc’s here though. The WGWF doctors would not release me to compete until this match was announced. I suspect that was Page or Raven’s doing but I can’t swear to it. They wouldn’t allow me to be even at the arena, so there’s that.
I shake my head in amusement and chuckle lightly.
It might have been that whole concussion thing, but who knows?
I shrug indifferently as I continue.
It doesn’t matter much and so here we are. Another battle royal to fight through in order to be a team captain for the War Games match they want. Over the years, I’ve competed in many war games and have done very well in them. I’ve been on the losing side of things a time or two and that’s okay too, every loss is a chance to learn something.
I smile as I scratch lightly at my hairline, where one of the stitches was recently removed and was still healing.
You get to learn about yourself and just as importantly, you get to learn about the person standing across the ring from you. Now, most people would be saying, what does that have to do with this match?
I smile and then nod my head, staring at my boots. Then I look back up with a twinkle in my eyes and a smile on my lips.
it’s important because my win-loss record here is not exactly stellar. It’s important because a lot of people don’t believe in me. They don’t think someone like me can challenge for the world title.
My smile remains as I continue to address “those people” in my own way.
That’s on me and I accept it for what it is. I’ve had some good outings here in WGWF, but there have also been some lackluster ones. I admit to that freely and I own that shit. You’ll get no excuses from me when I lose.
My smile doesn’t change, but the set of my eyes hardens.
The last battle royal we had here, I was eliminated well ahead of what I had expected. I was fucking embarrassed, to say the least, but I learned a great deal about where I needed to get to in order to make sure that I finish where I expect to be. In years past, I know where I would have been, in the final 3, and should have been the one that was fighting Peter at the end of that thing.
Now the smile fades as my jaw sets.
I say this, because I’ve beaten Mark Cross before, so I know it should have been that way again. Again that’s not what happened and that’s on me. The man that showed up to face Peter, if you can actually call it that. He didn’t show out, that's for damn sure. He just mailed it in, during a shot for a world title. How fucking disgusting is that. Certainly not what I was expecting.
I feel the knuckles in my right hand pop as I form a fist.
That brings us to this match. This battle royal to see who the team captains will be. It’s very nearly a who’s who of our sport. Atara Raven, Lexi Gold, Fred Debonaire, our World Champion Peter Vaughn, our TV champion Sonya Benson, our Intercontinental Champ Cholo, the returning Jim Cadeus, and the list goes on and on. All vying to be one of the captains, for some of the people in this match, I can understand it. People who have led teams before, individuals who have the ability to lead, whether learned or just blessed to have that ability. Some of y'all though should have kept your nose out of this one.
Fade
Business
“That is so badass!” Amber exclaimed, “I can definitely work something up with this.” She smiled at me, not a grin, a full-on Amber smile. “I was curious as to what reason you had for having Kat take this picture.” I shook my head in dismay, “I was so in and out of it at the time, it just struck me that that picture could be a good start to a design that we can capitalize on for the garage.” She was still in shock partially when she started looking at the picture and I knew her mind was already leaping into motion on a design and a plan. “Parking Lot Brawl,” she repeated again and again. “Due to the legal shit, we might have to change the name to something else,” I said quietly. She nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I don't want anyone else to have rights to the design and WGWF could make a case.”
“What do you think about giving Bam royalties, since he did contribute to this,” I asked her. She nodded, “It makes sense, since you know it’s the co-mingling of your blood,” she concluded with that more common vicious smile of hers. Needless to say, my wife has always enjoyed it when I caused others to bleed, especially a match like that with Bam Miller. Now though, I had to focus on this fucking battle royal. What was funny enough was my first encounter with the woman who would later become my enemy and fiercest rival. Ultimately our relationship was just weird, to be honest. We went from trying to kill each other to dating and ultimately we got married. My fond memories and reverie was interrupted by my phone, I looked at the caller id, and it was our friends at Dodge calling. I slid the bar over to accept the call. “Hey chief, how’s it going this morning?” A very excited executive responded, “Mac, buddy, that was the best thing ever!” I laughed, “Ha! I’m guessing you liked that match then?” Again an excited almost fanboy approach, “Liked it? I LOVED IT!!! Not just for the sake of the violence but we got the numbers in since your match with Miller and our sales have exploded!” I smirked and shook my head, “Come on now, it couldn’t have gone up that much,” I said in my polite quiet voice. “18.3%! That my man is fucking huge!”
I looked over at Amber and she just shrugged in indifference. She showed me the design she was working on and you couldn’t have chiseled the smile off my face. “That is a huge number, my man, I’m glad it’s working out this way.” “Me too my friend,” he said and I could hear the genuine smile on the man’s face. “So, what’s next for you and Miller? Another match? Death Match maybe?” he sounded almost as if he was begging and I shook my head. “I’m not sure there is a next for Bam and I but that was the resolution to our issues. Well, until something else pisses one of us off that is.” Now it was his turn to bark a laugh, “Ha! I can make some shit up if you want,” he said through his laughter. “Nah my man, I’ve got this battle royal coming up that I have to be ready for. I feel like he and I are on the same page now and that’s good for our business. Bam is a good dude, he tries way too hard to impress people but he’s a good human, mostly.” He didn’t respond right away, “Alright Mac, I just wanted to give you the good news, we’ll talk again soon, yeah?” “Yeah, man, we definitely will.” he ended the call from his side and I closed out the application. “18.3%,” I said quietly, “That’s pretty fucking good.” She nodded, “he was certainly excited about it.” She turned her laptop around and showed me the design, “Red, that’s fucking fantastic,” I exclaimed. “You like?”, She asked. “I fucking love it, darlin’”
I held up my hands delaying further conversation, then with my right hand, I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got the perfect idea of a test run for this design.” She looked at me and motioned me to continue. “A Ford F150,” I said and managed to say it with a straight face too. She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Trust me, this is going to be perfect, a gift to the man who helped make this happen.” Then it dawned on her why I would choose a Ford, “I like the way you think, Bane.”
From there we went to work on a new truck for a friend.
Fade
Choosing Your Battles Wisely - continued.
continued from the previous match talk section above
I had begun to pace back and forth, there were several ceiling-mounted microphones because we knew this would happen. Nothing was more important to me than the fight itself, so that would be my focus for this promo.
A wise man once said you should pick your battles wisely.
That knowing smirk returns as I continue to pace back and forth.
He obviously never had a professional wrestling match. There’s no fun in that at all. I’ve become accustomed to choosing them all, right or wrong. I’ve always been known, and rightly so, to be reckless but not without purpose or direction. My friendship with Jon Cable and Tristan Slater is a real one, and one that means something to me. My friendships within CCPE mean as much to me as that, but for some we are on different pages right now as people.
I stop my pacing and stand back in front of the microphone once again.
Everything I do is calculated, from the music I choose to my actions in the ring. That’s the reason I am quite deliberate with the things I do inside of the ring. You’ll never be able to say that my words don’t match my actions. I’m a man who says what he means and means what he says. Every move or strike is delivered in a way that leaves no doubt about my intentions inside that ring. I don’t get paid by the hour, but by the victory. I’ll be out there to win a fight, not a popularity contest. For my friends that are watching this right now, those of you who know me well know that I’ve always believed in by any means necessary. That hasn’t changed.
I pause to let that sink in for the audience and my peers.
During the course of matches like this, people will try to forge alliances, in an effort to get to that preferred ending. Those who don’t try to do that will laugh when the alliance implodes. I could make one exception to that, and that’s if someone like Peter were to offer that to me, I would consider it. The caveat to things like that is, you really can’t trust anyone in these matches, no matter how close a friend they may be.
I smirk at the thought of Vaughn and I teaming up, only to get to the final two, that would be interesting to say the least.
Now, Fred Debonaire has made it plain that in this match, he has no friends and that it’s every man and woman for themselves. That’s one thing about Fred, he’s always been what he says he is. You don’t have to like it, but you damn sure better respect it. Freddy and I don’t really play well together, but the respect is certainly there and that’s all I could ask for.
The smile returns, mostly because I’m amused at what I’ve said but more so because I know I’m right.
What this should have been was simply a Kingdom versus anyone from WGWF that had the balls to step in the ring and challenge them.
I cross my arms in front of my chest.
It would have been glorious, a fight for the ages. So, what happened to the Kingdom?
I shake my head in disdain.
it’s hard to keep a group of people with egos on the same page, Fred couldn’t keep them motivated, he couldn’t keep them together as a unit. Peter Vaughn wasn’t supposed to win the title, but he did. That undercut everything that Fred had been preaching from day one. Joe decided that WGWF wasn’t going to be a priority for him or his brother. They cut away from Kingdom and failed to beat the tag team champions, The Show Stealerz. Tristan and I beat Fred and Flynn in a tag match. Flynn has all but disappeared into the void.
I spread my arms out away from my sides.
My match with Bam, solidified what was not going to be a successful venture. Bam earned my respect and I’ve got no issues with him or any of my brothers and sisters from CCPE.
Bringing my arms back to my sides and then hooking my thumbs in my belt, I prepare my closing remarks.
I used that information to reiterate the fact that I don’t choose my battles wisely. I’ve chosen violence every single day of my life it seems and this match will be no different. This is not a team match, this is every person for themselves. No alliances have been offered and I’ll not broker one during the match. I enter this event in “Sigma Wolf '' mode. I’ll have people in this match that I’m friends with or that I like personally. There are also people in this match that I don't get along with. People like Fred Debonaire, that doesn't mean that I don’t respect him as a competitor, we are simply on different pages as people. With time and effort on both of our parts that could change. That doesn’t change my end game. I’m not gonna save anyone if they look like they’re going to be eliminated. I don’t expect that from anyone else, so they shouldn’t expect it from me.
I shake my head in amusement, still smiling as I continue.
I hope you boys and girls are ready for one hell of a bumpy ride, this is my focus and the only task at hand that matters to me right now. I’ll win my spot as a captain for this because I can. Not because I have to or need to.
My eyes narrow and my jaw sets, in an effort to show the intensity that I feel.
Let’s fucking go!
Fade.