Post by Robert "The Omega" Main on Sept 23, 2023 14:25:41 GMT -5
Robert and Chris stumbled upon a mysterious candy shop tucked away down a narrow alley. The dynamic duo glanced at one another for an instant before wandering into the quaint candy shop with a glimmer in their eyes. As the pair strolled through the door, their eyes widened in astonishment. Shelves upon shelves were filled with sugary delicacies, gummy bears, jawbreakers, lollipops, and even chocolate bars that glistened in the dimly lit store. The walls behind the counter were lined with even more mammoth jars crammed with a multitude of multicolored candies that harbored tantalizing candy of various shapes and sizes. The endearing aroma of sugar welcomed them, immediately transporting them back to their youth. The two gradually leered at one another, grinning from ear to ear, and couldn't help but feel like kids in a candy store.
"I wonder if they have any medicinal candy?"
Robert shrugged while shaking his head.
"Is that all you think about? Oh, and by the way bitch, you're buying after that skydiving stunt you pulled on me..."
Page slapped his knee, then threw his head back while chuckling under his breath
"Can't you just let that go? It was a couple of grand; nothing hurt."
Robert squinted as his nostrils flared and jaw clenched.
"I'm not Elsa, and I'm not letting it go… You owe me."
Page clasped his arms behind his body and moaned as his artic blue eyes darted around the shop...
"I came to your Hall of Legends induction..."
Robert tilted his head and yawned like he was growing bored with their conversation.
"Fine, I'll buy whatever you want from here; it's not like you can spend a couple grand in a damn candy store."
Robert lifted his head while pushing his chest out, pointing his index finger at Page...
"Watch me..."
Page discharges a counterfeit smile, then rolls his eyes and speaks up. At the same time, Robert begins rummaging through candy like an undomesticated animal, loading a basket with one of every mouthwatering treat...
"Jesus..."
Robert gives Page the bird...
"When we chose to step into the ring at the one-year anniversary show, we anticipated what some consider the elite class of this federation to step to the plate, but what we got was Raganarok. In comparison, the rest of the company tucked their tails between their shaky legs and hid themselves away. There's nothing like planting your heads in the sand, ladies and gentlemen. Don't get me wrong, Ragnarok is a stellar hand. But that's where it stops. Mediocracy would some it up sufficiently… Every piece of talent has a glass ceiling. I hate to break it to you underachieving clowns, but you and the rest of this federation are well beneath our feet. We understand why most of the so-called wrestlers elected to vault over this like stank on shit. We are the death blow to your career and have been handing out "L's" for years; we put ghosts in graveyards. After all, Raganarok, it's the exact thing you've done since you've been fastened to the WGWF by leeching onto whatever is sizzling because you can't get over yourself. Oh? Am I lying? Relaunch- Sonya Benson, after getting smacked by her, you moved onto teaming with Damage in an across-the-board fruitless endeavor to the Show Stealerz, and now you've cherry-picked the Cataclysm train AND Cholo at the same fucking time! If that doesn't scream desperation to remain modernistic, nothing will. You left Damage hanging high and dry in what will plausibly be the most consequential battle of your inconsequential career, and while you bartered him in for a newer model, did you envision what Damage might be contemplating? If it were me... I would spoil your party."
Page points to his head while winking as he tore the wrapper off a lollipop; he delicately licked his cherry-red lips before placing it into his mouth.
"Do you not believe in him when it counts? While Goth is a nuanced upgrade, it begs the question, why didn't you go to your boy over someone you hardly know and think with clear thoughts that a thrown-together pairing with absolutely zero chemistry will stand toe to toe with the battalion that is Cataclysm? You are nothing more than sheep being led to slaughter. Back at Summer Madness, we did what we do and ran through Cable and Adams like a warm knife through butter… Those two curtain-jerkers are undoubtedly more accomplished than you could ever imagine. We can applaud you for wanting to jump all over this opportunity, but we can also challenge your level of intelligence because this is hardly the savviest thing you've done. To get here, you didn't invite Damage… Nah, you had Goth and some jobber wrestle it out to see who could stand by your side in the inevitable crash and burn. Like Icarus, you'll acknowledge you are flying too close to the sun, and once those wax wings melt… Boom... Game over! When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, a man I've had ample familiarity with now stands on the other side of the squared circle. It's the returning Goth."
"It's a shame, too."
"We like Goth."
"He's a pretty good dude. I guess…"
With his ever-curious temperament, Robert leisurely approached the counter, placed all three overflowing baskets down, and conversed with the shopkeeper...[i/]
"Good afternoon, Mr.?"
"Jenkins!"
Ah, Mr. Jenkins. How long have you been running this incredible establishment?"
A smile spread across Mr. Jenkins' face as he leaned on the counter.
"Good afternoon, young man. I've been the proud proprietor of this shop for over three decades. It has always been my sanctuary, where dreams are made of sugar and happiness."
In the background, Chris popped open a nearby jar and clutched a handful of colorful jelly beans, unimpressed as he tossed a few back.
"We need to try something extraordinary today, Mr. Jenkins. Something that will make us feel like the kids we used to be. We're getting old..."
A mischievous grin appeared on Mr. Jenkins' face.
"Well, boys, if you're searching for an unforgettable adventure, I have just the thing."
Robert yanked open a bag of sour gummy worms as he overlooked Mr. Jenkins as he reached underneath the counter and demonstrated a small glass bottle labeled "Candyland Elixir." Robert's interest is unexpectedly heightened as he freezes in place, gazing with widened eyes and raised eyebrows.
"What's this?"
Robert requested, his curiosity piqued as Mr. Jenkins leaned closer and whispered...
"This elixir has a magical heritage. Legend has it that it can transport you into the world of candy itself. But be cautious; once you drink it, there's no turning back."
Page is now standing next to Robert with his hands on his hips.
"Well, dick head you were looking for medicinal medicine... Here it is."
Page throws his hands towards the heavens in disbelief.
"We're not going to swallow this stuff and wake up two hours later in an alleyway with our pants down around our ankles, our butts hurting, and not remembering what happened, are we... Because if that's the case, it's a firm no from me."
"Really?"
This is a slippery slope Main..."
"What do we have to lose... It's a drink?"
"Fuck it. Let's try it... We leaped out of planes, and I packed the parachutes and had no clue how to do it."
Robert lowered his head...
"Are you serious right now?"
"Why would I lie about that? It's one hundred percent true. We survived, didn't we..."
Robert places his palms over his face, shaking his head.
"Listen, we understand why you guys would want to seize this opportunity, predominantly coming back from injury at the hands of the yellow-bellied cream puff Joe Montouri. What better way to make a substantial splash and get that fifteen minutes of fame than positioning yourself against Robert Main and Chris Page? Regarding tag team wrestling, no pairing on this planet can hold a candle to what we've got. We are single-handedly the greatest tag team in the chronology of professional wrestling, and if anyone ever has something to say about that. Speak up, and we'll dogwalk you all over the ring like we have done every other team in this industry. For the better part of four years, we have had each other's backs; as a team and singles, we've made a shit load of money off this business, annihilating the best of the best, and guess what? The best in the industry couldn't get it done. They were outperformed, outmatched, hammered into fine dust, and taken to the curb like the trash that they are. Gentlemen, this right here is what is known as the deep end of the swimming pool; you learn to swim, or we drown you."
Robert runs his thumb across his throat.
"People like you can't comprehend that the house that Chris Page and Robert Main built from the ground up is on fire, and we are soaked in gasoline and can't leave the kitchen. We are committed to the cause, gentlemen, and if you want to step up to this, you need to understand what's coming. A swift and fitting end... We have deranged thoughts like Ray Charles Waving chainsaws in that ring. When you signed on the dotted line, you shook the tree. That's fine, but you'll rake the leaves because Cataclysm is about to hit you with a slammer like you are in a cell. We will release the beast, and once that leash gets removed from the dogs that get no sleep, bloodcurdling things transpire to those standing across the ring. We kick like a twelve gauge shotgun and have no consideration for human life once that bell rings, and after we slice you two into a million fleshed-sized bites, the wrestling world will think we work in a butcher's shop. We're surgical; all you've got to do is tell us how you want the end to come. The two of you are nothing more than a piece of meat to the rest of the pussies in WGWF, and Cataclysm will feed the cats!"
Mr. Jenkins filled two small glasses with the orange glowing liquid as Robert and Chris swapped enthusiastic glances, not missing the glimmer of adventure in each other's eyes. They agreed to taste the elixir without hesitation and experience its promised enchanting wonders.
"Just remember, boys don't overeat."
Robert and Chris both ignore Mr. Jenkins...
"I'm sorry, I've got a point of view; it's a loaded pistol pointed directly at both of you. Once this entire thing pops off, there won't be a bridge back to how things were for either of you… You see, Cataclysm will burn the bridge with you two deadbeats on it… Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… And for those who are spineless out there disbelieving in everything Page and I are about to do, this is a vernacular middle finger to every one of you..."
"Some of you have misread our motives."
"Some call it a vanity project."
"Some call it ego strokes."
"We call it our last ride, and we've clarified that titles aren't aspirations; competition is. It's hilarious how some of you puff your chests out claiming this or that until you're faced with two guys that give no fucks about you, your chronologies, or your monikers. We don't want your leather-bound trinkets; we want to smash your ass so bad it hurts your feelings. Some of you have an enormous ego, one grander than Page's; you are too blind to see it. Because you are delusional that once you step through the ropes and the bell sounds, you'll be met with the gates of hell and carpet bombed into absolute oblivion, from pillar to post, there will be no mercy… We've been walking over bodies for years, and it's not about to change here and now to two guys who couldn't find the limelight if it bit them in the asses. The One Year Anniversary Show will be the most prestigious event in the WGWF's relaunch history; we are just a tiny part. Cataclysm understands the nature of an "attraction," if you think we wanted that Main Event slot, you're mournfully mistaken. We want to set the table for Peter Vaughn's second reign as World Heavyweight Champion."
"Thankfully, we do have Goth."
Abruptly, Robert's gummy worms started crawling and slithering on the table. Chris's lollipop grew arms and started waving at him playfully. It was a truly spellbinding sight. In an instant, the world around them transformed. Their surroundings became a whimsical candy wonderland, where candy canes grew like trees, and marshmallow clouds floated in the sky. They found themselves standing on a bridge made entirely of licorice, stretching over a stream of bubbling chocolate.
"Uh, what the fuck just happened..."
"We are in candy land, hoss."
"That old man drugged us."
They anxiously traversed the bridge, investigating the Candyland as if no time had passed. They encountered talking gummy bears, chocolate fountains, and cotton candy bushes. Each step took them deeper into a world where every desire was made a reality.
"This is the best trip I've ever had..."
Robert chuckled while eating some cotton candy from a bush...
"You two are just lamebrained posers dying for an opportunity to gain acceptance... Pursuing clout when none should be given and damn sure not deserved... Cataclysm has become the commander of the people you all despise openly, and together, we will devastate the oppressive movement the two of you are peddling... And when that time comes, you will fall like dominos, and we'll step over those broken bones and rebuild our throne… Let me break this to each of you fair-weathered sons of bitches, nothing that has happened to me has ever phased me. It's tough to talk big with a shotgun in your mouth. The reckoning is here, ladies."
Robert and Chris stumbled upon a metaphysical portal concealed behind a curtain of candy floss. Curiosity overwhelmed them, and they stepped through the doorway without hesitance, not knowing where it would lead. As they passed through the portal, their eyes widened with astonishment. Soon, they came across a village made entirely of gingerbread houses. The aroma of freshly baked cookies and gingerbread wafted through the air, enticing their taste buds. The locals greeted them warmly, who were whimsical creatures made of candy themselves, licorice people, gummy bear residents, and marshmallow folks.
"The history between the two runs more profound than most know. I have very few regrets in this business, but a trip to Sin City Wrestling still looms in my head, not because I took a loss to you, but because I couldn't give you anything promotion-wise. It consumes me today because the business could have been much more prominent. Consider this: consider Denzel Porter's sixteen-man tournament as my make-good. You defeated me once; now let's see you do it again… I have doubts, not because of you or your abilities… But because of who you're standing on the apron with. You can't carry everyone, and you sure as shit can't shoulder Ragnarok against Cataclysm."
Page pulls off a marshmallow man's arm and begins chowing away.
"There are very few people on the planet that I greatly respect; Robert Main is one of them. We don't have to worry about each other; we don't have to try and get on the same page. All we must do is examine one of those numerous disadvantages that both of you will drag into this conflict and manipulate, just like we did at Summer Madness. John thought he had a formidable chance of being hard-headed until we dented his skull. We thought it'd knock some logic into him, but evidently, that was an oversight on our part. Something not going to be a miscalculation is taking you both to school because we can, and neither of you can stop us. Our prominence stands on its own; the teams that have fallen at our feet read like a who's who both of your names will join. We wish things could be different, but we're just playing the cards we were dealt. Let's say hell freezes over, and you two seem to put the pieces together and do what ONE team on the face of the planet has done. Let's say you vanquish us. No, that won't happen; this isn't a Ladder Match."
"Oh, that's right, we haven't been pinned or forced into submission."
"We have resumed our run every time we lace our boots, and this isn't going to be any different. We can applaud what efforts you bring to the table, we celebrate that you both wanted this outing, and we can respect the hustle of trying to use us to get yourselves over. For Ragnarok, it's clout; for Goth, it's looking for a tremendous opportunity that Joe Montouri can't bring… But what happens when you underperform like always? What transpires when you bring everything you have to the table and it's still insufficient? See, boys, this isn't a game to us. This isn't about looking for attention because if that were the case, we'd be all over the fedderverse. We want competition and a good fight…"
"We must wait for the next pairing to step up on a hope and a prayer to garner either."
"Efforts and derivatives are two dissimilar things but need clarification. The two of you are a first and last-time pairing, and it will take a lot more time than two weeks to get on the same page and read the same book. Usually, that wouldn't be bad because every team needs a learning curve moment or two under their belts… Unfortunately for both of you, that learning curve isn't going to come at the expense of Cataclysm. The top of the fucking food chain. Our game plan doesn't adjust, our level of competition doesn't change, and our drive to leave bodies lying in our wake doesn't alter. This isn't more than an exhibition for us because it won't matter if the two of you combust; it will just be a matter of when."
"That one miscue."
"That one blunder."
"That one rudimentary oversight."
"It will be one too many when you're standing in the ring with the two of us."
"Not many teams live up to the advertisement; Cataclysm does."
"There aren't many teams that can be put in the ring with any pairing of people and ELEVATE them; Cataclysm does."
"We aren't coming to Las Vegas to compromise for anything less than having your heads on a silver fucking platter. CCPE Arena will be rocking; over thirty stars of this sport will be looking to steal the show, and you two kids are attempting to take seats at the grown folk's table that you still need to earn. Please don't fret; we will return you to the kiddie table that Joe Montouri is the head of. Many have tried, but we have yet to put us down definitively. That doesn't change on Monday Night Brawl. It's an infrequent treat to get us on free television, but we can't think of a more satisfactory free showing than at the One Year Anniversay of an organization that has disobeyed all odds. This stage has been built on the hard work and faithfulness of the WGWF roster; that fact isn't brushed aside or falls on deaf ears. It will be an honor and a privilege for Cataclysm to grace the ring on Monday Night… We wish it were against a legitimate team over a thrown-together shit show. At least a fundamental team would get something out of it, even in collapse versus Goth and Ragnarok never teaming with each other again. The desperation to be made prominent is real with these two; I'm just afraid that even the star power of Cataclysm is sufficient to make that happen. Singles glory, a lame tag title run, or a random pairing be damned… Your accomplishments are minimal at best… I don't particularly appreciate going back to the same well to drink, but it can't be stated adequately enough that we know each other like the back of each other's hand. We can predict our next move without a word being muttered between us; we have the chemistry that most dream of but never attain."
"You're both about to discover what Cataclysm is about."
As the day diverted to dusk and the atmosphere littered with candy-colored stars, the two friends discovered themselves atop a mountain made entirely of bubblegum. They sat there, overseeing the captivating land, feeling grateful for the extraordinary adventure they had been blessed with. They reluctantly retraced their steps, crossing the licorice bridge back to reality. Robert and Chris watched in terror as their whimsical candy companions grew fangs and sharp claws. Gummy bears became towering beasts with sticky, gooey mouths, while jawbreakers morphed into heavy, rolling balls of terror. Even the chocolates sprouted legs and began scuttling around like spiders.
"Uh..."
"Yeah... Time to go."
Acknowledging they were in grave jeopardy, Robert and Chris attempted to escape the store, but the door refused to budge. Hysteria enveloped them, but they knew they had to be courageous and discover a way out. Thinking on his feet, Robert grabbed a nearby bucket of strawberry-flavored syrup and hurled it at the gummy bear oddities. The sticky substance coated their legs, hindering their movements. Meanwhile, Chris tossed a handful of sour candies at the jawbreakers, causing them to crack and shatter into harmless pieces.
"This is all on you..."
"Always my fault, right?"
With each obstruction they conquered, Robert and Chris grew more confident. They heroically faced the chocolate spiders, pulverizing them underfoot, and continued their desperate escape through the maze-like shelves. But as they neared the exit, the monstrous candy creatures grew more bloodthirsty and uncompromising. Suddenly, a light bulb flickered above Chris' head. He remembered Mr. Jenkins's forewarning about consuming too much candy. An idea scintillated in his mind, and he beckoned Robert to follow his lead. Cataclysm shoveled handfuls of candy, swiftly pushing them into the monstrosity's mouths. The overwhelming surge of sugar nourished them with a wave of energy. They became faster, stronger, and more agile. With newfound power coursing through their veins, they fought off the monstrous candy creatures with heightened speed and precision. And suddenly, the two woke up in the alleyway...
"What the fuck was that, and why are my pants down?"
Page clutches his head, noticing he has no pants on and is stark naked.
"Ugh... How did we get out here? And why in the fuck am I butt naked?"
Robert laughs out loud...
"That's karma coming back around..."
Page tries returning to the candy shop, but the door is locked.
"Karma for what? Shit... My wallet is gone..."
Robert laughs out loud again, pointing at Page.
"You deserve this for that skydiving stunt..."
Page stumbles off-screen as Robert laughs uncontrollably...
"So, here is that chance at the white whale... You mother fuckers have wanted this match so badly you could taste it. Praying that you get one shot in those shit careers to run your tongue over the sugar cube, hoping to get a taste... You two have always needed someone else to do the heavy lifting because when the bright lights are on, you both shit the bed… Because with people like me and Page around, you'll never get the opportunity to shine. We own this fucking place now, and we don't owe anybody an apology for wrecking the shop or being who we are... And while you may not like those uncomplicated facts, learn to live with them or die by the Cataclysm sword... This is what you get when Cataclysm is in your company... You get dominance and broken bodies. Good luck, gentlemen, because you'll need it."