Post by TheNewBreed on Aug 11, 2023 22:51:10 GMT -5
Robert… I don’t need to warn you about the type of man Chris Page is. You know him very well. That’s why I find it so strange that the two of you, knowing your history and knowing your egos, would choose now of all times to relaunch your former tag team and threaten to run roughshod over any and all challengers to your Legacy.
He vowed to the world nearly a year ago that he wouldn’t be appearing on WGWF Programming unless it was warranted, and honestly… to stroke his own ego and try to hang on to the last shreds of any glory left in his career before hanging it up just doesn’t seem justified to me.
That’s why I asked Spencer to team up with me again and answer your open challenge on BRAWL.
See… I’m sure you both have this twisted vision of the why’s and whatfor’s in your mind.
You probably think we see this as some opportunity to grab at the heels of the Legacy you had ages ago and increase our own stock in the process like some glorified clout chasers, right?
You probably think this is some attempt to put another Legend’s chalk outline at my feet to match the garden of them I’ve been growing my entire career, and to carve another notch in the budding WGWF career that Spencer has begun here, huh?
Trust me Mr. Main… you couldn’t be further from the truth.
We answered this challenge because we stand on the cusp of something greater here in the WGWF, and we weren’t about to stand by and allow the poor judgment of an egotistical power hungry Owner like Chris Page to take away the progress that we’ve made on our own since Relaunch.
Time and time again we have heard Page extol about how the roster has done an amazing job since Relaunch and how without the men and women of the locker room the WGWF Would be nothing… and he was absolutely right.
Now… coming up on one of the year's biggest nights for the WGWF… in what is arguably THE most ICONIC arena in the wrestling industry… the both of you wanted to toss your weight around and snub the men and women of the WGWF who have put in so much work… so much blood spilled… so many tears cried in anguish and agony… so much effort towards climbing the ladder of success and building the WGWF brand this year, and you just wanted to take the spotlight for yourselves.
You wanted to use your Legacies to secure a spot in one of the most exclusive cards in wrestling history.
You wanted to flop your ancient shriveled roosters on the table and steal the show… steal the show from men and women who have put their very lives on the line to get where they are today… and I for one… am not about to let you take one second away from them at the Garden.
Instead… whether we win or lose… it’s us you’re facing at Summer Madness. Adams and I are not going to stand for your bullshit. Every person on that card has worked their asses off this year to get here, and they deserve their own spotlight.
You two?
Hell… you coasted in here on someone else’s coattails, Main, and you haven’t done shit for the WGWF, and Page is so caught up in his own Legacy that he would let the company sink if it meant he could show the world just one more time that he is the only one around here that matters… but we won’t let you HAVE that luxury, boys. You’re going to have to go through us to TAKE it.
He vowed to the world nearly a year ago that he wouldn’t be appearing on WGWF Programming unless it was warranted, and honestly… to stroke his own ego and try to hang on to the last shreds of any glory left in his career before hanging it up just doesn’t seem justified to me.
That’s why I asked Spencer to team up with me again and answer your open challenge on BRAWL.
See… I’m sure you both have this twisted vision of the why’s and whatfor’s in your mind.
You probably think we see this as some opportunity to grab at the heels of the Legacy you had ages ago and increase our own stock in the process like some glorified clout chasers, right?
You probably think this is some attempt to put another Legend’s chalk outline at my feet to match the garden of them I’ve been growing my entire career, and to carve another notch in the budding WGWF career that Spencer has begun here, huh?
Trust me Mr. Main… you couldn’t be further from the truth.
We answered this challenge because we stand on the cusp of something greater here in the WGWF, and we weren’t about to stand by and allow the poor judgment of an egotistical power hungry Owner like Chris Page to take away the progress that we’ve made on our own since Relaunch.
Time and time again we have heard Page extol about how the roster has done an amazing job since Relaunch and how without the men and women of the locker room the WGWF Would be nothing… and he was absolutely right.
Now… coming up on one of the year's biggest nights for the WGWF… in what is arguably THE most ICONIC arena in the wrestling industry… the both of you wanted to toss your weight around and snub the men and women of the WGWF who have put in so much work… so much blood spilled… so many tears cried in anguish and agony… so much effort towards climbing the ladder of success and building the WGWF brand this year, and you just wanted to take the spotlight for yourselves.
You wanted to use your Legacies to secure a spot in one of the most exclusive cards in wrestling history.
You wanted to flop your ancient shriveled roosters on the table and steal the show… steal the show from men and women who have put their very lives on the line to get where they are today… and I for one… am not about to let you take one second away from them at the Garden.
Instead… whether we win or lose… it’s us you’re facing at Summer Madness. Adams and I are not going to stand for your bullshit. Every person on that card has worked their asses off this year to get here, and they deserve their own spotlight.
You two?
Hell… you coasted in here on someone else’s coattails, Main, and you haven’t done shit for the WGWF, and Page is so caught up in his own Legacy that he would let the company sink if it meant he could show the world just one more time that he is the only one around here that matters… but we won’t let you HAVE that luxury, boys. You’re going to have to go through us to TAKE it.
“I need you to send a memo to Sandra in Acquisitions... I need her to find out how we can maximize the production values on Spencer's clothing line.” Johnathan's gravelly voice rumbled from his lips as he looked out across the New York Skyline from his penthouse suite speaking on his cell.
The ceiling to floor windows overlooked a massive sprawling metropolis below, needle-like buildings sprouting from the center like a crystalline bloom of concrete, glass, and steel, cars inching through the congested streets like ants so far below.
“Yeah, full spectrum. I want to find the most efficient production sites and streamline the materials as much as possible. Find out how his supply chains work, and see if we have anything in the pipeline that can help him out. If we can increase sales and production and source workers his way, then let’s get that going too. If we can actually do anything for him, I need her to write up a production and delivery contract for Spencer to look over and see what we can do to help him out.” John says into the phone, staring out over the city.
“Get her to put it together and run it by him. I'll ask Adams later today who he wants us to send them to. Thanks... OK. I'll talk to you after the session today. Alright... Talk to you later.” John pressed the red circle on the screen of his phone and slid it into the pocket of his charcoal gray slacks.
“IDEA... can you pull the last three years worth of TV content on Robert Main and zip it to the laptop so I can look through it later?” John asks into the empty air of the sparsely furnished room.
“Yes, John Cable. The files will be transferred directly. Is there anything else you would like me to do for you?” The small drone's electrical buzz and robotic tone rang through the room from everywhere all at once as if R2-IDEA was the room.
“Compile all relevant articles published during this time frame, and set up a timeline of his matches and links for those shows, please?” John asks.
“Of course, John Cable. Will that be all?” the buzzy words echoed through the room again.
“Schedule unchanged. I’ll be ready to go in about 15 minutes. Standby, please?” John says as he grabs a blue gym bag with dark blue straps and puts a couple of cream colored towels inside. Fetching a few things for the gym, he packs the duffel and once more stands near the window looking out over the horizon stretched before him.
John slides his hand into his pocket and pulls his phone out again. He opens the screen, slides his gnarled fingers across it a few times and puts it to his mask. Moments pass before he looks at the phone and then puts it back to his mask.
“Hey Spencer... um... was just trying to verify the schedule for today. I'm going to head to the gym a little early today, but were you still planning on being there at two? Let me know... I got a couple of guys coming to work, so... yeah. Anyway, I'll see you later. Bye.” John stammers a little awkwardly leaving the message before hanging up and sliding the phone back into his pocket and grabs his bag headed towards the door.
“I’ll meet you street-side soon. On the way now.” John says to nothing once again.
“Affirmative, John Cable.” the buzzy noises respond while John exits the room and the door closes behind him as the scene fades.
The familiar sound of bumps on an old wooden ring deck can be heard… softly at first as a fuzzy orange light begins to fill the scene, then louder as the gym room of the Forge becomes more clear and crisp in our view. Two men in black kick pants run the ropes of a ring that is obviously old, but well worn and handled, not ruined by the ages of use. Each man passes each other in opposite angles across the ring, narrowly missing each other as they race from one rope to other, only to launch from the blue and white colored cables and zoom across the other way, only just missing the other man once more. Over and over they rush the eighteen foot gap from rope to rope, inching closer and closer to each other with each pass, both knowing that one misstep… one faltering foot… one momentary loss of focus or momentum… and CRASH!
Finally… The fateful moment of a kinetic energy explosion happens as one of the men loses his footing, stumbles across the center of the ring… and eats a massive running shoulder tackle from the other man as he blows right through him in his trajectory across the squared circle.
The man bumps hard, throwing his arms out and smacking the ring, trying to spread the impact out across his shoulders as the air is forcefully expelled from his lungs and he gasps.
“You need a few more hours on the treadmill, Greg. Cardio, Cardio, Cardio as I always say.” The man grasping into the ropes heaves between his own gasps for air as the man he had run over rolls to his right and begins to wobble to one knee.
“Fuck you, Mark. We can’t all run 10Ks in our sleep, OK?” Greg retorts from the center of the mat with a heaving chuckle, still trying to catch his breath.
“Alright guys… run ‘em again, then head over to the pool for cool downs. I’ll be over there in a minute. I gotta make a phone call.” John says with a laugh of his own, proud of the two guys who had come up from Texas to help him and Spencer train. They came with high praise from his managers at the gym out there, and he was told they were exactly what he had been looking for. As usual, they hadn’t let him down with their advice.
The two men groaned sarcastically as they took their places at opposite angles of the ring and shook their heads as Cable grabbed his phone from the duffel near the ring-post and walked towards the double-door entrance to the gym. He slid his thick fingers across the screen and then held the phone up to his mask. After a few moments, he shook his head, and cleared his throat.
“Hey, Spencer… you missed the session today. I tried to get a hold of you earlier to confirm the time, but I couldn’t reach you. I guess let me know if you need anything… talk to you later.” John says as he closes the call and walks out the doors into the hallway and disappears.
Mia: John Cable really set all this up, huh?
She was right to be caught off guard. In more ways than one, John embodied exactly why not to judge a book by its cover. While he’d spent years in the business becoming rugged and worn on his own exterior, the penthouse that John had set us up in was sleek as can be. The bulk of the space was marble that swirled white and black together in such pristine condition that reflections could be made out from the other side of one of the many rooms and with a towering overlook of the city, it became clear what John’s objective was.
Spencer: Makes sense though, doesn’t it?
Mia: How so?
Spencer: John’s had a rough go of it, ya know? I mean, I suppose a lot of us have in our own ways, but I think he’s counting on this. Maybe John needs to feel on top of things, needs to feel things are going his way.
Mia: And you’re the key to that?
Spencer: It’s hard to explain, but when you’ve got things that are weighing you down, you start to wonder what it would be like to float, even if it’s just for a second.
Mia: Mmm..I love it. Always so thoughtful, Mr. Adams.
She crinkles her nose and steps up to pull me towards her before being interrupted by the buzz in my side pocket.
Cable (2)
mobile
The whimsy on her face seemed to drain quickly in response to my own lack of energy.
Mia: What’s up?
Part of me would’ve liked to think that I was right, that it was just John who needed “this”, whatever that may be or what exactly that may mean to him? I’m not sure it entirely mattered in that moment, because maybe we aren’t so different beyond our covers. Maybe I needed “this”, maybe even more so than he did.
Mia: Where are you going?
With a jacket thrown over myself, I turned back towards Mia, looking mostly past her and out through the floor to ceiling windows on the other side of the penthouse. With a swelling of pressure just beyond my eyeballs that I was determined to hold back, I forced a half grin while the follow up seemed to fall out of my mouth rather than my trying to speak.
Spencer: I won’t be long.
The trickle of rain against the top of Spencer’s hood droned on, a pitter pattering stimuli bringing him in and out of thoughts he wished he weren’t thinking. Their sounds were broken up with a voluntary swirl of a Four Roses bottle against the planks beside him while his legs dangled over the edge of Pier 1 from a sitting position.
John: You know… I never knew anyone who actually solved anything by running to the bottom of a bottle. I’ve known a lot of people who have tried… but never met anyone it actually worked for.
Spencer puffed a humored bit of air through both nostrils that caused his forward bent head and upper body to bob up and back down momentarily.
Spencer: How’d you find me?
John: In my lines of work, it pays to have a lot of reach…
Spencer: Don’t worry. Bottle is still sealed. I just wanted a little insurance, you know? In case I decided tonight would be one of those nights.
John: Oh, I’m not worried. You’re a grown man. I understand it… I’ve had plenty of those nights myself.
The Beast approaches and uses the post next to his partner to lower himself to the edge of the pier and sit beside him in the darkness.
Spencer: It’s hard, John. Sometimes, I find myself wondering why I’m still doing this. Wrestling giveth and it sure as shit taketh away.
John: Tell me about it. I'm 53 already, and here we are about to embark on yet another pay per view, the both of us double booked to boot! I’ve lost almost everyone I’ve ever let into my life, and still… There are men out here striving to take away any scraps of the life I have left.
Spencer: You and I both. In some roundabout way, it’s either loved ones passing as a result of this or walking away, because of the challenges I’ve created. It would be nice if just once, shit could be normal..ya know…sustain itself, I mean.
Badmon turns the bottle over in hand, not so much paying attention to its details as he does stare through it as he zones out.
Spencer: I just don’t know if I’m ever doing the right thing.
John: None of us ever do, really. We have a choice every day what direction we take life in, and every morning is a new day to change our mind. I try to make my decision to do the best I can for the people counting on me every day, and as long as I do that, then I have done all I can today to make the world a better place. Sometimes, that means I have to do things I might not like… things that I might not think I can accomplish… things I have never done before… but in doing them… I find out what my limits are. I find out how far I can go and how far I can push myself to be better.
Spencer: …Right..
Spencer turns the bottle over once more, gripping it by the neck while still staring straight ahead, never once turning his gaze from the water.
Spencer: I guess we’ll push.
Badmon pushes back up to a standing base and grips the neck tight before hurling the bottle of bourbon into the water below.
John: Looking for a solution to our grief is never easy. A lot of times, we seek solace in the wrong places, and it takes a strong man to admit he’s made mistakes. It Takes a stronger man to really try to fix them.
John pulls on the post nearby and stands up on the edge of the pier looking out over the water and sighs to himself as the raindrops splash across his mask and run down his suit coat.
John: I know it’s hard to believe in the moment… but things really do get easier. You might not ever forget the pain or the sorrow… but the weight gets lighter the longer you carry it as long as you learn to let it go as you grow into the thing you will become in the future. If you don’t… the weight will drown you in the sorrow of it all.
John turns to look at Adams now, the drizzling rain soaking them both to the core.
John: I try to use the pain as fuel, you know? You prove the haters wrong… and you prove to those who cared enough to support you through your darkest times that their efforts on your behalf weren’t in vain. Somewhere out there, someone wants to see you succeed, and when you do… you give them hope that they can too.
Robert Main.
Funny where fate steers us sometimes, isn’t it?
Two months back, it was Jim Caedus whose status as a Wargames captain brought us together. It wouldn’t just be our first time teaming, but our first encounter period. For years, Spencer Adams and Robert Main were names synonymous with one brand and one brand only, two defining members of the respective companies that signed our checks. Fast forward and we’re in opposite corners and for what? What must we point to and give credit for the budding history of Spencer Adams and Robert Main? Look no further than your greatest weakness which is, of course, your habitual indecisiveness.
Historically, I’ve found my own choices in alliances coming under fire. “This person carries”, “you carry this person”, “why so damn many dance partners?” and yet..I remained true and sure about every decision I’ve made in who I choose to stand side by side with. Whether it was #FightSmart, People’s Choice, Kill or Cure, Lockhart, or King Shit..I never hesitated. All of these people got every bit of Spencer Adams that I could give any time I was given the opportunity. You, on the other hand, have gone from break up to dating like a middle school-er still figuring things out.
Coming here wasn’t ever in the cards for you until it was. Hell, I’m not even talking about the “will they won’t they” nature of your brotherhood with Caedus, though I could stop short there and have my point heard plenty clear. Keeping that in mind, I’m looking at you buddying back up with someone you swore up and down you wanted nothing to do with, someone you supposedly couldn’t stand in Chris Page. I’m sure there’s a lot of people out there wondering what changed and truth be told, nothing really has.
You’re Robert Main, an industry legend who arrived here off MacGyvering broken and burnt bridges with rubber bands and duct tape and calling it good enough. The very foundation that you’re standing on right now is rickety at its best while I maintain pathways and make asterisks my bitch. I LIKE John and there was never any reservation or hesitation as to our union just as there was never any question about coming down and taking you and Page up on your challenge and proving your pairing as unstable as we all know it is.
Though..it wouldn’t be fair to put all of it on you now, would it? It takes two to tango and we both know that all you ever need to make Chris Page appear is a namedrop and “Chronic” is summoned with a pre-roll between his lips like Thicc Beetlejuice. Between your lust for cute little “on again off again” things and Page’s horniness for a little light beam and monopolizing talent for the sake of letting the world know that he can, it all makes sense. Cataclysm is a supergroup on the outside and a current Chris Page vanity off-shoot if you strip back even a single coat of paint.
You, Chris Page…you know damn well what the difference is. In fact, I’ve SHOWN you the difference while under the politician before you. You saw me alongside two of my brothers in AW and you felt enough back to canvas to take your breath away, impact and unity that dealt with your patchwork answer for a three on three bout. We didn’t necessarily NEED to provide further proof to the grift that is CCPE, but we did it anyway… because you provided us the opportunity. You let in the clapback and clapback we DID.
You may not prove to be much of a leader, but you are a world class swindler, something I know you have to pride yourself on. We can talk accolades and in-ring ability and I’d admit that you have that shit in spades, but your true bread and butter is playing the role of white Don King, a puppeteer whose dummies don’t realize that you’ve put strings in their back and had them dancing like they’re the avatar and you’re in the driver’s seat piloting them along a career path that they’ve given up equity in by signing their names on the dotted line. At your very core, you are a fucking con man.
My dislike of you isn’t driven by a need to pull back the curtain on Chris Page, because you don’t work from behind one. You operate in broad fucking daylight and expect not one person to say anything. I take issue with you, because if James Raven and a handful of investors or board members weren’t around, you’d rename WGWF to CCPW in a fucking HEARTBEAT and have everyone you’ve knighted as a Motown minion doing what they do in the name of you, breeding this generation and every generation after it to serve your image and your mission like the Warren Jeffs ass bitch you are.
I’ve answered the call, because you deserve to have your teeth fed to you by someone who won’t hesitate to do so the second you smile for the cameras. I’m here, because John Cable is a real motherfucker who I’m proud to share a corner with. When they ring that bell, I’m shoving dick down your throat until you cough like it were the loud pack because if nothing else, I’ll have granted those in attendance and watching at home a few precious moments where Chris Page has finally been made to shut the fuck up for a change.
To think, this could’ve been different. John and I could’ve made the choice to walk into the tag title match and wreak havoc for the sake of adding another piece to our individual mantles, but you two had to dangle temptation in front of us. This is us putting the whole fucking division on notice, a narrative hanging overhead of every Turmoil pairing for the duration of night one’s opener. This could’ve been a lot of things. It could’ve been local talent or Milk Mason and Coding Rhodes signing up to get steamrolled, but instead, it’s the big guy and myself seeing to it that it’s Chris Page as the one getting used for a change. After all, somebody needs to balance the scale.