Post by Chris Chaos on Aug 12, 2023 17:45:52 GMT -5
ČĤŔĨŚ ČĤĂŐŚ ĨŚ ŤĤĔ РŔŐĎÚČŤ ŐŦ ŃĨĞĤŤМĂŔĔŚ.
ĤĔ ĨŃŚŤĨĹĹŚ ĂĹĹ ŐŦ ŤĤĔ ŦĔĔĹĨŃĞŚ ŤĤĂŤ МĂĶĔ Ă ŃĨĞĤŤМĂŔĔ ŴĤŐĹĔ.
They say when your body goes to sleep, your brain wakes up.
You can't read while you are dreaming, or even tell time. Ever notice that? You may associate sleeping with peace and quiet, but actually our brains are more active during sleep than during the day. Body dead, brain alive. Many people claim that they don’t dream at all, but that’s not true: we all dream, but up to sixty percent of people don’t remember their dreams.They seem so real, so intense, when they happen though, don't they. Almost as if you were actually there. You can touch, smell, see, feel. A dream is like an alternate universe, no different than a video game. But the word dream is misused, is it not? We call our aspirations dreams, as if we want more than anything else to live in a fantasy world.
It is proven that in dreams we can only see faces that we have seen in real life before. So beware: that scary-looking old lady next to you on the bus might as well be in your next nightmare. That is what Chris is to Jonathan Cable. He sees that match in his dreams, he sees him whenever he closes his eyes. All of the hopes, dreams, and aspirations that Cable had were crushed in one fell swoop. Now he has had weeks to sit back and think about them, to remember them, and to obsess over them. Chris Chaos is a familiar face so deeply ingrained in the hippocampus that John Cable could remember the smallest of details. John Cable could see the little red blood lines in Chris's eyes. He could see the grains and imperfections in his face. He could remember Chris's skin so well that he could almost feel it.
Dreams tend to be negative
Surprisingly, dreams are more often negative than positive. The three most widely reported emotions felt during dreaming are anger, sadness and fear. Johnny has been feeling fear every time he has closed his eyes since the match was announced. He has felt anger--knowing he is inadequate and not stacking up to the men he wants to desperately to emulate. Sadness that his career was seemingly cut short because he doesn't know how to keep his head on a swivel. Fear----because he knows he isn't as good as he claims to be. Fear that Chaos truly does consume him.
Sleep paralysis is real
Hell is real, and sleep paralysis is the closest thing to it. It doesn’t feel like a dream, but 100% real. The sheer fear instilled by the inability to move at all, no matter how hard you try, and a sense of an extremely evil presence in the room with you.
Johnny has been stuck in this for a while. He is directionless. He talks to himself. He is living in a dream like fantasy world at all times, and but doesn't realize that his fear of failure has paralyzed him.
Johnny can't make the first move because he is too afraid of stepping out of his dreams and entering reality.
Amygdala is real, and during an attack, sleep paralysis sufferers show an overwhelming amygdala activity. The amygdala is responsible for the “fight or flight” instinct and the emotions of fear, terror and anxiety.
ǟʍʏɢɖǟʟǟ
When you think of the amygdala, you should think of one word. Fear. The amygdala is the reason we are afraid of things outside our control.
The rats didn't seem to care, they ran around with reckless abandon. The rats are normally afraid of cats--a natural predator---and hide at any and all cost.
Some of the rats were jumping from the couch, falling to fatal injuries or sudden death, but these were leaps that they never before would take.
Climbing on the backs of the cats. Over their heads, right by their sweeping paws. Some of the rats even bit at the cats.
On the other side of the room, a man had a pistol in his hand. He had a smile on his face as he put it to his temple.
A woman whose worst fear was drowning was now tying the rope to her arms that were connected to cinder blocks hanging over a big water tank.
A child had a knife, and was running around with it.
A man was told he had stage 4 lung cancer, and just shrugged, lighting another cigarette.
There were people on the roof, jumping off, not knowing what would happen when they hit the bottom.
They didn't have fear. The rats, like the people all had their amygdala removed. The removal of the amygdala had taken away the rats' and people's memory of fear, therefore the rats did not fear anything. The people had no clue what being afraid was.....they did what they wanted because they could........
Remove all fear from the equation, and nothing can conquer you. John Cable is consumed with fear, but that fear is the most primal and primitive kind. It is a fear of himself.
He doesn't want to get to the level needed to extract revenge. Chaos has taken over, upset the established order, and he is left in limbo---not sure which side to choose. In order to take chaos out, he needs to bring out an evil that he cannot comprehend. In order to bring out those demons, he needs to understand who he is.....
Can Cable live up to his dreams or will he be nothing more than his own nightmare?
Have you ever seen your friends die?
It was a beautiful place, forests nearby, streams for fishing. It was happy there. The evening was warm with a clear, cloudless sky. Above was a ceiling of stars, a blanket of celestial bodies that you could lose yourself in for hours.
That same night, an accident occurred near the town. Even the most perfect places aren't exempt from chaos.
BOOM.
Two huge explosions shook the earth beneath their feet. Every man, woman and child heard the bangs. They had no idea what it was.
None of them could fathom what was about to unfold.
A pillar of smoke rose up in the clear night sky. Through the inky black sky anyone who looked could make out twinkles of flame in the distance. Some had thought was had broken out.
It hadn't.
They watched in horror as a huge stream of ionizing radiation shot into the heavens. Lighting up the night with a hideous blue glow. They thought the world was ending.
For them, it certainly was.
It was titanic. Like looking into the face of God. A gargantuan mass of pure energy...it was.....beautiful.
THEY WEREN'T READY. YOU'RE NOT READY.
The bussed in a troop of entertainers to keep the villagers calm as they died of radiation poisoning.
A beautiful ballerina, dancing her final dance. Strands of her blonde hair floated to the floor as she twirled. Blood leaked from her nostrils, down her cheeks as it seeped from her ears. When she finished, the children ran to her with flowers, their hair and teeth already starting to fall out.
The generator stalled and for several months they were plunged into darkness. If anyone were to look close enough they could see those flowers, and the children, glowing in the dark.
Next in came the liquidators. A disgusting euphemism, really. The condemned fit better.
Do you know what its like to look a friend in the eye and tell him that he has to walk towards his own painful death? Do you know what its like to see children being burned from the inside out, dying the most painful death imaginable, never knowing how or why they were being murdered by something even see.
They thought nothing of it until it was upon them.
Chaos is terrifying. Chaos isn't always visible.
Chaos is unstable. A reactor with a fatal design flaw. Chaos can be its own worst enemy, but then mis-handled, mis-treated, and not taken seriously, chaos can be......
Toxic.
Chris Chaos was the death of WGWF, and he was coming without warning. A painful, slow-acting toxin that will eat them away from the inside and turn this happy community into a barren wasteland of abandoned humanity.
WGWF is Pripyat.
Welcome to your nightmare.
Sometimes the world isn’t what it seems. Sometimes the world is a dark, nasty place with big fang teeth and ripping claws. It doesn’t matter if it is 80 degrees everyday and bright sunshine….even the sunniest days can look like a gloomy rainstorm. It all all the perception of the eyes that view it. Sometimes you can feel like the world is collapsing in around you and there is nobody, not a single being of the 8 plus billion that inhabit this sphere in this universal abyss, that is on your side or has your back. Not a single one that cares about your feelings. Age is just a number. It doesn’t matter how young or old you are….you can feel this way. You can be 8 or 80, and pain is still the same….it just manifests in different ways. It shows itself in different forms. Every human is uniquely and beautifully individual, and we all handle said pain differently.
“Hello Mr. Cable…
–Er, let me start over. Mr. is a surname to address a man of honorary distinction, one that you respect. Neither of those apply to you.”
*clears throat*
“Hello………John.
Yeah, John. Johnny. John-o. J man. J money. I am glad to see that you know so much about me. Makes it so much nicer to roll into town and have the locals familiar. You put together quite the checklist for me. Let me ask you, how many sleepless nights did it take you? How many mindless hours of scrolling and clicking did it take for you to come up with this laundry list of “facts” about me? I’d say I’m flattered you took the time but honestly it’s fucking pathetic. Like a love-struck middle schooler doom-scrolling their crush’s page and collecting all the “dirt” they can on them, just in case they decide to turn them down. I’d say I am impressed that you were able to list off all my best qualities, but then I’d be giving you more credit than you deserve.
"Yeah... I know you Chris Chaos."
Clearly, I need no introduction but just in case you missed anything let me tell you just who the fuck it is that I am.
I am the best in the world at what I do. I am a fucking rockstar whose name transcends this game, is a marquee no matter which company I go to, and has a certain aura to it that sometimes can’t be explained.
Let me ask you something, Johnny, which match is the most polarizing on this card? Which match makes Summer Madness Night 2 worth ordering? What has been the most anticipated match of the event?
–and please, don’t tell me it's Caedus vs. Vaughn part fucking numerous because Peter needs and opponent and Jim is good at cupping the balls during felicio….throw some other rando in there to make it a ménage de trois of monotonous bullshit–
No, the match that everyone is talking about, the RETURN that everyone is talking about……..is MINE. I haven’t stepped foot in that ring officially and if the World Title wasn’t involved we’d be the show-fucking-closer.
What does that tell you? Say all you want about me John–and you’re not wrong–say all you want about me but I just did your floundering career a favor. I just elevated you to the next level. I just put you on a pedestal, and all you had to do was sit there with that goofy fucking mask and be you. Boring, basic, bland, you.
I’d say you’re welcome, but you don’t deserve that either.
I hate to break it to ya—ahh who am I fooling I’d love to break it to ya!--but all of that work you did, all that bravado and pizzazz you tried (and failed) to deliver it with…..all of it is just like your chances of ever being relevant here again……up in smoke.
You listed character traits, and that’s fantastic. You tried to get in my head and play therapist, and tell me how I supposedly feel. It was all dramatic and you tried SO hard…..but all I can say is yes. Sure. You’re right. All those things you want to call me, you’re correct.
Sticks and stones.
But what you FAILED (seems to be the trend we’re getting at here when it comes to you, doesn’t it?) to mention were my rivalries, my past history with some of the biggest names here, my stumbles against them, and my triumphs. All you did was use big words to make yourself sound smarter, and try to tell the entire world in far too many words what they already knew.
I’m an asshole.
Boom, there is your promo, John. Chris Chaos is an asshole. Signed, sealed, delivered. Great trash talk buddy, and you wonder why you’re stuck in the quicksand of the mid-card.
I came here because I saw names that I remembered from the glory days. I came here because if I was going to give it one last run I WANTED it to be against the Robert Main’s, the Peter Vaughn’s, the Jim Caedus’s, the Chris-fucking-Page’s. John Cable doesn’t fit into that list. You were in XWF for a hot second and took off quickly once you realized you were in the deep end without your floaties.
You come here, and you’re just another name in the ranks. It pains you, I know it does. As big and as bad as you want to make us think you are, you’re an insignificant twerp with a big ego and famous ‘friends’ to gaslight you into a delusional reality. I’ve seen them all, I’ve beaten them all. You’ve seen them all, and you’ve run away if you didn’t think you had a shot. I’ll be honest, as much as the XWF and I don’t see eye to eye, they had some of the best talent in the world. I competed there for almost a decade, and made their Top 50 All Time list. I am a hall-of-fucking famer and you? You’re just a guy in a Halloween costume.
Even Main said you’re an anchor. You probably look at it like an anchor in bowling, patting yourself on the dick and thinking you matter. What Main means is that you’re the one they throw overboard to hold the boat down while they sit topwater doing rockstar shit. Robert Main and Jim Caedus, as much as they are my biggest rivals and thorns in my ribcage, they are fucking rockstars in this industry. They have done all of the same shit as you accuse me of doing, they just swallow the load when done. So you want to be like them? Considered in the same sentence as them? You better open those lips a little wider.
I am in the same class as of them, but we are different. While they were sitting in the front, soaking in everything, passing the classes with straight A’s, I was the one in the back of the class hitting on baddies and shooting spitballs with my feet on the desk. The point is, I was in that class.
You?
Remedial English, with a resource officer checking your agenda planner.
I’ve seen so many come and go in my day. You don’t intimidate me. I’ve walked with legends, you’ve carried their luggage.
BUT, BUT CHAOS, JOHN……JOHN WAS A WORLD CHAMPION!
Whoopty fucking do.
I was the Universal Champion in my first six months in that company and I had to beat arguably the greatest of all time in Doctor D’ville to do it. I have signature win after signature win, why do you think I am in the defacto main event in my first match here?
Am I perfect? No. Far fucking from it. I’ll be the man you refuse to be and admit that I have lost big matches just like I have won them. Robert Main and Jim Caedus were the bain of my existence for a long time, and made things difficult for me. I weathered the storm. I stood in the face of giants and I didn’t back down. I sure as shit didn’t hide behind a mask.
I understand how you feel. I lost that Universal Title and it ate me alive. I never won it again while I was there, and guys like Robert and Jim made that title their play toy, another artifact to put on the mantle, another trophy bust on the wall. I get how seeing someone else holding the belt that means so much to you can be a devastating reality to live though. I understand that it can consume you, and it can distract you from the goal at hand—to be the best you possibly can. You’re off your game, John, because winning that title (and proving that you’re worthy of winning that title) is your entire reason for existence. I have stepped away, and reflected.
Grew.
Adapted.
I want to give this one last run and if I am lucky enough to be given the shot at the World Title here, best believe I’ll take it. You defaulted to the same argument about me that everyone else spews from their dicktraps. I have been self consumed, worried about what the fans think (I have been a heel since jumpstreet, when have I ever given a fuck about the fans?), about what peers think (I have been the most hated man in wrestling since 2017, when have I ever given a fuck about what my peers think?), and all that nonsense. What you didn’t touch upon, J man, is that I’ve taken stacked deck after stacked deck, dropped trow and pissed on it. I have taken all the of the bullshit that has come my way and I made a goddamn mansion out of it.
You spent a half hour telling us how it’s not about your belt and how it doesn’t make you worthy, then you want to tell us that it's about you……with or without the belt. Make up your damn mind.
All you have on me is perceptions, spoon fed to you from those who hate me. What I have told the world about you is facts. You spend weeks looking me up, doing your research, and you have a big plate of nothing. You knew I was a big name, you knew this would arguably be the match of your career, you knew that you needed to bring your big guns–yet you showed up with a water gun.
I didn’t spend more than five minutes on you.
My time is precious. You're mid-card, wanna be status is not.
I can tell by taking one look at you that you’re a sniveling coward, lying to all of us about your inner working of strength and courage but you went running back to the mask the moment shit got too real for you. It gave you a chance to hide from all that plagues you. It gave you a chance to look into the mirror and see a man who has never amounted to anything but an also-ran transformed into a monster of his own creation. It helps you sleep at night because that mask is exactly that, a mask, for your failures. Your failures as a wrestler, as a man, your failure as a husband. It’s your crutch, your fallback, your excuse. I’ve never needed an excuse, hell I haven’t cut my hair in 6 years.
What is going to be the next play? When I beat you in that ring at Summer Madness are you going to start wearing full body leathers and adopt a BDSM gimmick? Are you going to go slipknot on us and go for shock value? You’re a runner, John, not a fighter. You may be big, you may be physical, but inside you’ve got the heart of cottage cheese and I don’t think you have what it takes to put this old horse down. A bullet between the eyes, and you’re out of gunpowder.
Pompous.
Arrogant.
Insufferable.
Childish.
Spoiled.
Self Righteous.
Entitled.
Self Absorbed.
Narcissistic.
When you’ve accomplished what I’ve accomplished, by hook or by crook, all those ‘insults’....well, they become compliments. I embrace them. I’ve EARNED them. I’d rather have them talking negatively about me than not talking at all.
Where’s your press?
You couldn’t make the headline of a high school newsletter.
I didn’t need to spend countless hours looking up everything I can about you because you don’t matter to me. You’re below me. You’re insignificant. Not only that, but you’ve given me all I needed to know the moment you opened your mouth. You know why I’ve been silent all this time yet the anticipation has been through the roof?
A wise man once said nothing at all.
You showed your ass, you went all out, and you delivered the main course of hot, steaming nothing.
But anyone who KNOWS you, knows that’s all you’re really capable of.
I am going to rip that mask off your head and shove it up your ass. I am going to take away your ability to hide from your biggest fear–yourself–and I am going to bring you one step closer to reality. Chris Chaos is a legend, and tonight in front of a capacity crowd at the World’s Most Famous Arena……you’re going to find out why.
I welcome a fight, I welcome a war, I welcome pain. All I can hope for is that you can bring it in spades.
If you want to beat me, you’d better kill me in that ring.
I didn’t come out of retirement to die of boredom.”
They say when your body goes to sleep, your brain wakes up.
You can't read while you are dreaming, or even tell time. Ever notice that? You may associate sleeping with peace and quiet, but actually our brains are more active during sleep than during the day. Body dead, brain alive. Many people claim that they don’t dream at all, but that’s not true: we all dream, but up to sixty percent of people don’t remember their dreams.They seem so real, so intense, when they happen though, don't they. Almost as if you were actually there. You can touch, smell, see, feel. A dream is like an alternate universe, no different than a video game. But the word dream is misused, is it not? We call our aspirations dreams, as if we want more than anything else to live in a fantasy world.
In our dreams we only see faces that we already know
Dreams tend to be negative
Surprisingly, dreams are more often negative than positive. The three most widely reported emotions felt during dreaming are anger, sadness and fear. Johnny has been feeling fear every time he has closed his eyes since the match was announced. He has felt anger--knowing he is inadequate and not stacking up to the men he wants to desperately to emulate. Sadness that his career was seemingly cut short because he doesn't know how to keep his head on a swivel. Fear----because he knows he isn't as good as he claims to be. Fear that Chaos truly does consume him.
Sleep paralysis is real
Hell is real, and sleep paralysis is the closest thing to it. It doesn’t feel like a dream, but 100% real. The sheer fear instilled by the inability to move at all, no matter how hard you try, and a sense of an extremely evil presence in the room with you.
Johnny has been stuck in this for a while. He is directionless. He talks to himself. He is living in a dream like fantasy world at all times, and but doesn't realize that his fear of failure has paralyzed him.
Johnny can't make the first move because he is too afraid of stepping out of his dreams and entering reality.
Amygdala is real, and during an attack, sleep paralysis sufferers show an overwhelming amygdala activity. The amygdala is responsible for the “fight or flight” instinct and the emotions of fear, terror and anxiety.
ǟʍʏɢɖǟʟǟ
When you think of the amygdala, you should think of one word. Fear. The amygdala is the reason we are afraid of things outside our control.
The rats didn't seem to care, they ran around with reckless abandon. The rats are normally afraid of cats--a natural predator---and hide at any and all cost.
Some of the rats were jumping from the couch, falling to fatal injuries or sudden death, but these were leaps that they never before would take.
Climbing on the backs of the cats. Over their heads, right by their sweeping paws. Some of the rats even bit at the cats.
On the other side of the room, a man had a pistol in his hand. He had a smile on his face as he put it to his temple.
A woman whose worst fear was drowning was now tying the rope to her arms that were connected to cinder blocks hanging over a big water tank.
A child had a knife, and was running around with it.
A man was told he had stage 4 lung cancer, and just shrugged, lighting another cigarette.
There were people on the roof, jumping off, not knowing what would happen when they hit the bottom.
They didn't have fear. The rats, like the people all had their amygdala removed. The removal of the amygdala had taken away the rats' and people's memory of fear, therefore the rats did not fear anything. The people had no clue what being afraid was.....they did what they wanted because they could........
Remove all fear from the equation, and nothing can conquer you. John Cable is consumed with fear, but that fear is the most primal and primitive kind. It is a fear of himself.
He doesn't want to get to the level needed to extract revenge. Chaos has taken over, upset the established order, and he is left in limbo---not sure which side to choose. In order to take chaos out, he needs to bring out an evil that he cannot comprehend. In order to bring out those demons, he needs to understand who he is.....
Can Cable live up to his dreams or will he be nothing more than his own nightmare?
Have you ever seen your friends die?
It was a beautiful place, forests nearby, streams for fishing. It was happy there. The evening was warm with a clear, cloudless sky. Above was a ceiling of stars, a blanket of celestial bodies that you could lose yourself in for hours.
That same night, an accident occurred near the town. Even the most perfect places aren't exempt from chaos.
BOOM.
Two huge explosions shook the earth beneath their feet. Every man, woman and child heard the bangs. They had no idea what it was.
None of them could fathom what was about to unfold.
A pillar of smoke rose up in the clear night sky. Through the inky black sky anyone who looked could make out twinkles of flame in the distance. Some had thought was had broken out.
It hadn't.
They watched in horror as a huge stream of ionizing radiation shot into the heavens. Lighting up the night with a hideous blue glow. They thought the world was ending.
For them, it certainly was.
It was titanic. Like looking into the face of God. A gargantuan mass of pure energy...it was.....beautiful.
THEY WEREN'T READY. YOU'RE NOT READY.
The bussed in a troop of entertainers to keep the villagers calm as they died of radiation poisoning.
A beautiful ballerina, dancing her final dance. Strands of her blonde hair floated to the floor as she twirled. Blood leaked from her nostrils, down her cheeks as it seeped from her ears. When she finished, the children ran to her with flowers, their hair and teeth already starting to fall out.
The generator stalled and for several months they were plunged into darkness. If anyone were to look close enough they could see those flowers, and the children, glowing in the dark.
Next in came the liquidators. A disgusting euphemism, really. The condemned fit better.
Do you know what its like to look a friend in the eye and tell him that he has to walk towards his own painful death? Do you know what its like to see children being burned from the inside out, dying the most painful death imaginable, never knowing how or why they were being murdered by something even see.
They thought nothing of it until it was upon them.
Chaos is terrifying. Chaos isn't always visible.
Chaos is unstable. A reactor with a fatal design flaw. Chaos can be its own worst enemy, but then mis-handled, mis-treated, and not taken seriously, chaos can be......
Toxic.
Chris Chaos was the death of WGWF, and he was coming without warning. A painful, slow-acting toxin that will eat them away from the inside and turn this happy community into a barren wasteland of abandoned humanity.
WGWF is Pripyat.
Welcome to your nightmare.
Sometimes the world isn’t what it seems. Sometimes the world is a dark, nasty place with big fang teeth and ripping claws. It doesn’t matter if it is 80 degrees everyday and bright sunshine….even the sunniest days can look like a gloomy rainstorm. It all all the perception of the eyes that view it. Sometimes you can feel like the world is collapsing in around you and there is nobody, not a single being of the 8 plus billion that inhabit this sphere in this universal abyss, that is on your side or has your back. Not a single one that cares about your feelings. Age is just a number. It doesn’t matter how young or old you are….you can feel this way. You can be 8 or 80, and pain is still the same….it just manifests in different ways. It shows itself in different forms. Every human is uniquely and beautifully individual, and we all handle said pain differently.
“Hello Mr. Cable…
–Er, let me start over. Mr. is a surname to address a man of honorary distinction, one that you respect. Neither of those apply to you.”
*clears throat*
“Hello………John.
Yeah, John. Johnny. John-o. J man. J money. I am glad to see that you know so much about me. Makes it so much nicer to roll into town and have the locals familiar. You put together quite the checklist for me. Let me ask you, how many sleepless nights did it take you? How many mindless hours of scrolling and clicking did it take for you to come up with this laundry list of “facts” about me? I’d say I’m flattered you took the time but honestly it’s fucking pathetic. Like a love-struck middle schooler doom-scrolling their crush’s page and collecting all the “dirt” they can on them, just in case they decide to turn them down. I’d say I am impressed that you were able to list off all my best qualities, but then I’d be giving you more credit than you deserve.
"Yeah... I know you Chris Chaos."
Clearly, I need no introduction but just in case you missed anything let me tell you just who the fuck it is that I am.
I am the best in the world at what I do. I am a fucking rockstar whose name transcends this game, is a marquee no matter which company I go to, and has a certain aura to it that sometimes can’t be explained.
Let me ask you something, Johnny, which match is the most polarizing on this card? Which match makes Summer Madness Night 2 worth ordering? What has been the most anticipated match of the event?
–and please, don’t tell me it's Caedus vs. Vaughn part fucking numerous because Peter needs and opponent and Jim is good at cupping the balls during felicio….throw some other rando in there to make it a ménage de trois of monotonous bullshit–
No, the match that everyone is talking about, the RETURN that everyone is talking about……..is MINE. I haven’t stepped foot in that ring officially and if the World Title wasn’t involved we’d be the show-fucking-closer.
What does that tell you? Say all you want about me John–and you’re not wrong–say all you want about me but I just did your floundering career a favor. I just elevated you to the next level. I just put you on a pedestal, and all you had to do was sit there with that goofy fucking mask and be you. Boring, basic, bland, you.
I’d say you’re welcome, but you don’t deserve that either.
I hate to break it to ya—ahh who am I fooling I’d love to break it to ya!--but all of that work you did, all that bravado and pizzazz you tried (and failed) to deliver it with…..all of it is just like your chances of ever being relevant here again……up in smoke.
You listed character traits, and that’s fantastic. You tried to get in my head and play therapist, and tell me how I supposedly feel. It was all dramatic and you tried SO hard…..but all I can say is yes. Sure. You’re right. All those things you want to call me, you’re correct.
Sticks and stones.
But what you FAILED (seems to be the trend we’re getting at here when it comes to you, doesn’t it?) to mention were my rivalries, my past history with some of the biggest names here, my stumbles against them, and my triumphs. All you did was use big words to make yourself sound smarter, and try to tell the entire world in far too many words what they already knew.
I’m an asshole.
Boom, there is your promo, John. Chris Chaos is an asshole. Signed, sealed, delivered. Great trash talk buddy, and you wonder why you’re stuck in the quicksand of the mid-card.
I came here because I saw names that I remembered from the glory days. I came here because if I was going to give it one last run I WANTED it to be against the Robert Main’s, the Peter Vaughn’s, the Jim Caedus’s, the Chris-fucking-Page’s. John Cable doesn’t fit into that list. You were in XWF for a hot second and took off quickly once you realized you were in the deep end without your floaties.
You come here, and you’re just another name in the ranks. It pains you, I know it does. As big and as bad as you want to make us think you are, you’re an insignificant twerp with a big ego and famous ‘friends’ to gaslight you into a delusional reality. I’ve seen them all, I’ve beaten them all. You’ve seen them all, and you’ve run away if you didn’t think you had a shot. I’ll be honest, as much as the XWF and I don’t see eye to eye, they had some of the best talent in the world. I competed there for almost a decade, and made their Top 50 All Time list. I am a hall-of-fucking famer and you? You’re just a guy in a Halloween costume.
Even Main said you’re an anchor. You probably look at it like an anchor in bowling, patting yourself on the dick and thinking you matter. What Main means is that you’re the one they throw overboard to hold the boat down while they sit topwater doing rockstar shit. Robert Main and Jim Caedus, as much as they are my biggest rivals and thorns in my ribcage, they are fucking rockstars in this industry. They have done all of the same shit as you accuse me of doing, they just swallow the load when done. So you want to be like them? Considered in the same sentence as them? You better open those lips a little wider.
I am in the same class as of them, but we are different. While they were sitting in the front, soaking in everything, passing the classes with straight A’s, I was the one in the back of the class hitting on baddies and shooting spitballs with my feet on the desk. The point is, I was in that class.
You?
Remedial English, with a resource officer checking your agenda planner.
I’ve seen so many come and go in my day. You don’t intimidate me. I’ve walked with legends, you’ve carried their luggage.
BUT, BUT CHAOS, JOHN……JOHN WAS A WORLD CHAMPION!
Whoopty fucking do.
I was the Universal Champion in my first six months in that company and I had to beat arguably the greatest of all time in Doctor D’ville to do it. I have signature win after signature win, why do you think I am in the defacto main event in my first match here?
Am I perfect? No. Far fucking from it. I’ll be the man you refuse to be and admit that I have lost big matches just like I have won them. Robert Main and Jim Caedus were the bain of my existence for a long time, and made things difficult for me. I weathered the storm. I stood in the face of giants and I didn’t back down. I sure as shit didn’t hide behind a mask.
I understand how you feel. I lost that Universal Title and it ate me alive. I never won it again while I was there, and guys like Robert and Jim made that title their play toy, another artifact to put on the mantle, another trophy bust on the wall. I get how seeing someone else holding the belt that means so much to you can be a devastating reality to live though. I understand that it can consume you, and it can distract you from the goal at hand—to be the best you possibly can. You’re off your game, John, because winning that title (and proving that you’re worthy of winning that title) is your entire reason for existence. I have stepped away, and reflected.
Grew.
Adapted.
I want to give this one last run and if I am lucky enough to be given the shot at the World Title here, best believe I’ll take it. You defaulted to the same argument about me that everyone else spews from their dicktraps. I have been self consumed, worried about what the fans think (I have been a heel since jumpstreet, when have I ever given a fuck about the fans?), about what peers think (I have been the most hated man in wrestling since 2017, when have I ever given a fuck about what my peers think?), and all that nonsense. What you didn’t touch upon, J man, is that I’ve taken stacked deck after stacked deck, dropped trow and pissed on it. I have taken all the of the bullshit that has come my way and I made a goddamn mansion out of it.
You spent a half hour telling us how it’s not about your belt and how it doesn’t make you worthy, then you want to tell us that it's about you……with or without the belt. Make up your damn mind.
All you have on me is perceptions, spoon fed to you from those who hate me. What I have told the world about you is facts. You spend weeks looking me up, doing your research, and you have a big plate of nothing. You knew I was a big name, you knew this would arguably be the match of your career, you knew that you needed to bring your big guns–yet you showed up with a water gun.
I didn’t spend more than five minutes on you.
My time is precious. You're mid-card, wanna be status is not.
I can tell by taking one look at you that you’re a sniveling coward, lying to all of us about your inner working of strength and courage but you went running back to the mask the moment shit got too real for you. It gave you a chance to hide from all that plagues you. It gave you a chance to look into the mirror and see a man who has never amounted to anything but an also-ran transformed into a monster of his own creation. It helps you sleep at night because that mask is exactly that, a mask, for your failures. Your failures as a wrestler, as a man, your failure as a husband. It’s your crutch, your fallback, your excuse. I’ve never needed an excuse, hell I haven’t cut my hair in 6 years.
What is going to be the next play? When I beat you in that ring at Summer Madness are you going to start wearing full body leathers and adopt a BDSM gimmick? Are you going to go slipknot on us and go for shock value? You’re a runner, John, not a fighter. You may be big, you may be physical, but inside you’ve got the heart of cottage cheese and I don’t think you have what it takes to put this old horse down. A bullet between the eyes, and you’re out of gunpowder.
Pompous.
Arrogant.
Insufferable.
Childish.
Spoiled.
Self Righteous.
Entitled.
Self Absorbed.
Narcissistic.
When you’ve accomplished what I’ve accomplished, by hook or by crook, all those ‘insults’....well, they become compliments. I embrace them. I’ve EARNED them. I’d rather have them talking negatively about me than not talking at all.
Where’s your press?
You couldn’t make the headline of a high school newsletter.
I didn’t need to spend countless hours looking up everything I can about you because you don’t matter to me. You’re below me. You’re insignificant. Not only that, but you’ve given me all I needed to know the moment you opened your mouth. You know why I’ve been silent all this time yet the anticipation has been through the roof?
A wise man once said nothing at all.
You showed your ass, you went all out, and you delivered the main course of hot, steaming nothing.
But anyone who KNOWS you, knows that’s all you’re really capable of.
I am going to rip that mask off your head and shove it up your ass. I am going to take away your ability to hide from your biggest fear–yourself–and I am going to bring you one step closer to reality. Chris Chaos is a legend, and tonight in front of a capacity crowd at the World’s Most Famous Arena……you’re going to find out why.
I welcome a fight, I welcome a war, I welcome pain. All I can hope for is that you can bring it in spades.
If you want to beat me, you’d better kill me in that ring.
I didn’t come out of retirement to die of boredom.”