Post by Mark Storm on Jan 15, 2018 15:24:59 GMT -8
Legacy.
That's what this was about now. Everything else had been pushed aside and cementing his legacy into the archives of the professional wrestling industry was now a necessity. Week by week, he was inching his way closer and it didn't matter where he competed, it was still getting done. His name, already household, was now about to be elevated with the greatest of all times and he believed that there was nothing, no one - could do about it.
A successful title defense against Chris Crippler, his arch-nemesis, had ended their heated feud, for now. There was no doubt in the mind of Mark Storm that eventually, Crippler would rise once again and offer him a challenge to his coveted crown. But not now. Now, Mark had to focus on the next talent to emerge from the cesspool of the roster. That talent who was now stepping up to the challenge, was Tapioca Joe.
A man who earned his opportunity at facing the champ a fortnight ago, after defeating Brittney Anders and Chris Compact. Whilst Mark hadn't paid attention to it initially, he'd done his research and made sure to watch the match in it's entirety. He was impressed. This grizzled veteran showing no weakness against two competitors almost half his age. That took more than just skill, it took desire and determination. I mean't you'd have to put everything you have in your locker on the table.
"I like you Joe." he said confidently, nodding his head at the camera, appreciative.
Bruised, he looked like a broken man who'd just been through a turbulent war. That was because he had just been through a war, with his brothers in battle known as "The Dogs of War", they'd managed to win the Championship Wrestling Coalition - Weekend of Trio's event - which consisted of a number of matches throughout two long nights. But they'd emerged as victors, winning the whole damned thing. In front of him, was the coveted trophy that he and his brothers had worked so hard to secure. Another accolade in the cabinet. He sighed, running his fingers through the top of his now short shaven hair. He was exhausted but that was expected.
"I like you a hell of a lot more than I like most of the people in this place. You're someone who hasn't said much. Someone who's been under the radar, as if you were wearing an invisibility cloak. But you're someone, who has continuously rose to the occasion and bested your opponents. I admire that. I admire the fact that you don't need to say much because you do the talking inside the confides of the ring."
"There's too many people, Joe - you and me both know, there's too many people who wanna say that they matter. They wanna say that they're important yet they haven't done anything to back up their statement.
"They're pretenders, Joe. They're the worst kind because it doesn't matter how much they lose, or how much they look like an idiot - they'll continue to talk, because that's all they can do. They pose on social media, claiming to be the most talked about thing about this place, yet I'm the one with the American Justice title. I am, not them - because they failed. It bugs me, man. It bugs me because I don't think they understand how irrelevant they really are."
"Truth is, I'm the guy who makes this place tick. Everyone else is the handle on the clock whilst I'm the battery. I'm the guy who draws the crowd without fail and sells out arenas. I'm the guy who makes people wanna buy DVD's of our shows because they know that Your Hero and Mine was in the Main Event and it was certainly a classic!"
"I am the one who is running this place and some people don't even wanna admit it." he scoffed, disgusted at the individuals who'd claim they were superior to him.
Buckled around his waist was his American Justice championship, and it shone marvelously as the camera zoomed into it for a moment, before zooming back out. He was cutting this promo in the Dojo, already in Japan for his upcoming tour with Kamikaze Pro Wrestling. But that wasn't going to stop him from getting his message out to Joe.
"I'm what makes this place tick, Joe. I need you to acknowledge that. I need you to understand that because if you don't, Friday night is going to be a very embarrassing night for you, my friend. I need you to know - not fear - that this Friday, you are going to lose. It's inevitable. I'm not saying you're not good enough Joe because you are."
"In fact, I think you're probably one of the best in this place. You're up there in the upper echelon. But I've already surpassed the upper echelon, Joe. I'm on my own level, I've reached an omega level that has never been seen before in the history of this profession as a whole."
"It's true. Ask anyone about it across the industry and they'll agree with the fact that right now, there is no stopping Mark Storm. The only person who can stop Mark Storm is Mark Storm, and I'm not really feeling ending this little conquest that I'm on - not anytime soon, not ever."
"This championship reign of mine, ends when I feel it's best to relinquish the title but to be honest with you Joe, I don't think I'm ever going to feel like that. This championship hasn't made me, I've made it. I've made it one of the most desirable gems in all of professional wrestling."
"A fortnight ago, standing across from me inside that four sided ring was Chris Crippler. He stood there with hope, hope that he'd be able to dethrone me in my first defense. Hope that he'd be able to be the beacon of light for this company and the face that runs the place. I took that hope and I ripped away from him, dismantling him as a man and as a competitor, so much so that he's now an opening act. I'm not kiddin', check the card and the proof is in the pudding."
He paused, allowing his signature smirk to cement upon his upper lip.
"There's more to you than meets the eye, Joe. A lot of people see an ordinary man, but I don't. I see a grizzled veteran who's come back to the fold in the hopes of reliving those memories he cherished whilst in the prime of his career. I see a man who's been through a couple of wars himself, a fair share to know what kinda talent you're up against. You're vastly skilled with an array of mixed martial arts in your arsenal, as well as an aggressiveness that only comes out when needed."
"A man who's never held a world title and he's come back in order to try rectify that. I'm going to tell you now for your own benefit Joe. This isn't going to work out the way that you think. This fairytale where you somehow managed to defeat me, is pseudo. It's not real, it's made up - a story that you probably have in your head right now."
"You've never won a world title in your prime, what makes you think you can dethrone one, who's in his prime? Because whilst I'm here, that dreams of yours is nothing more than dream. It's nothing more than an idea. My plan is to stay here for a very long time Joe. You're gonna have to take that dream to the graves and that's a damn shame."
"Maybe in another life you could've done it. Another life, in another world where Mark doesn't exist. Except that's not the case. I do exist and I'm the American Justice champion. I'm Your Heron and Mine and you're living in my world."
He sadistically smiled, clasping his hands together. To say that he was confident would've somehow been an understatement. He was more than just confident. But words were just words, with no real relevance or importance. Now it was just about deliverance. There was nothing more important than that.
"I've got the whole world in my hands, Joe. But like my other opponents, I bid you good luck. Deacon Crane, Nameless, Compact, Crippler... I wished them all good luck and their fates are sealed. Crane and Nameless are nothing more than a distant memory, a memory that I have tarnished and burned into ashes. Crippler is now an opening act but he'll rise, eventually. But you see the pattern don't you?"
Rhetorically, he asked.
"They've all fallen, and your fate will be no different."
"From Your Hero, and Mine."
The scene faded to black.
That's what this was about now. Everything else had been pushed aside and cementing his legacy into the archives of the professional wrestling industry was now a necessity. Week by week, he was inching his way closer and it didn't matter where he competed, it was still getting done. His name, already household, was now about to be elevated with the greatest of all times and he believed that there was nothing, no one - could do about it.
A successful title defense against Chris Crippler, his arch-nemesis, had ended their heated feud, for now. There was no doubt in the mind of Mark Storm that eventually, Crippler would rise once again and offer him a challenge to his coveted crown. But not now. Now, Mark had to focus on the next talent to emerge from the cesspool of the roster. That talent who was now stepping up to the challenge, was Tapioca Joe.
A man who earned his opportunity at facing the champ a fortnight ago, after defeating Brittney Anders and Chris Compact. Whilst Mark hadn't paid attention to it initially, he'd done his research and made sure to watch the match in it's entirety. He was impressed. This grizzled veteran showing no weakness against two competitors almost half his age. That took more than just skill, it took desire and determination. I mean't you'd have to put everything you have in your locker on the table.
"I like you Joe." he said confidently, nodding his head at the camera, appreciative.
Bruised, he looked like a broken man who'd just been through a turbulent war. That was because he had just been through a war, with his brothers in battle known as "The Dogs of War", they'd managed to win the Championship Wrestling Coalition - Weekend of Trio's event - which consisted of a number of matches throughout two long nights. But they'd emerged as victors, winning the whole damned thing. In front of him, was the coveted trophy that he and his brothers had worked so hard to secure. Another accolade in the cabinet. He sighed, running his fingers through the top of his now short shaven hair. He was exhausted but that was expected.
"I like you a hell of a lot more than I like most of the people in this place. You're someone who hasn't said much. Someone who's been under the radar, as if you were wearing an invisibility cloak. But you're someone, who has continuously rose to the occasion and bested your opponents. I admire that. I admire the fact that you don't need to say much because you do the talking inside the confides of the ring."
"There's too many people, Joe - you and me both know, there's too many people who wanna say that they matter. They wanna say that they're important yet they haven't done anything to back up their statement.
"They're pretenders, Joe. They're the worst kind because it doesn't matter how much they lose, or how much they look like an idiot - they'll continue to talk, because that's all they can do. They pose on social media, claiming to be the most talked about thing about this place, yet I'm the one with the American Justice title. I am, not them - because they failed. It bugs me, man. It bugs me because I don't think they understand how irrelevant they really are."
"Truth is, I'm the guy who makes this place tick. Everyone else is the handle on the clock whilst I'm the battery. I'm the guy who draws the crowd without fail and sells out arenas. I'm the guy who makes people wanna buy DVD's of our shows because they know that Your Hero and Mine was in the Main Event and it was certainly a classic!"
"I am the one who is running this place and some people don't even wanna admit it." he scoffed, disgusted at the individuals who'd claim they were superior to him.
Buckled around his waist was his American Justice championship, and it shone marvelously as the camera zoomed into it for a moment, before zooming back out. He was cutting this promo in the Dojo, already in Japan for his upcoming tour with Kamikaze Pro Wrestling. But that wasn't going to stop him from getting his message out to Joe.
"I'm what makes this place tick, Joe. I need you to acknowledge that. I need you to understand that because if you don't, Friday night is going to be a very embarrassing night for you, my friend. I need you to know - not fear - that this Friday, you are going to lose. It's inevitable. I'm not saying you're not good enough Joe because you are."
"In fact, I think you're probably one of the best in this place. You're up there in the upper echelon. But I've already surpassed the upper echelon, Joe. I'm on my own level, I've reached an omega level that has never been seen before in the history of this profession as a whole."
"It's true. Ask anyone about it across the industry and they'll agree with the fact that right now, there is no stopping Mark Storm. The only person who can stop Mark Storm is Mark Storm, and I'm not really feeling ending this little conquest that I'm on - not anytime soon, not ever."
"This championship reign of mine, ends when I feel it's best to relinquish the title but to be honest with you Joe, I don't think I'm ever going to feel like that. This championship hasn't made me, I've made it. I've made it one of the most desirable gems in all of professional wrestling."
"A fortnight ago, standing across from me inside that four sided ring was Chris Crippler. He stood there with hope, hope that he'd be able to dethrone me in my first defense. Hope that he'd be able to be the beacon of light for this company and the face that runs the place. I took that hope and I ripped away from him, dismantling him as a man and as a competitor, so much so that he's now an opening act. I'm not kiddin', check the card and the proof is in the pudding."
"The same thing will happen to you Joe, if you don't give me the respect I've earned."
He paused, allowing his signature smirk to cement upon his upper lip.
"There's more to you than meets the eye, Joe. A lot of people see an ordinary man, but I don't. I see a grizzled veteran who's come back to the fold in the hopes of reliving those memories he cherished whilst in the prime of his career. I see a man who's been through a couple of wars himself, a fair share to know what kinda talent you're up against. You're vastly skilled with an array of mixed martial arts in your arsenal, as well as an aggressiveness that only comes out when needed."
"A man who's never held a world title and he's come back in order to try rectify that. I'm going to tell you now for your own benefit Joe. This isn't going to work out the way that you think. This fairytale where you somehow managed to defeat me, is pseudo. It's not real, it's made up - a story that you probably have in your head right now."
"You've never won a world title in your prime, what makes you think you can dethrone one, who's in his prime? Because whilst I'm here, that dreams of yours is nothing more than dream. It's nothing more than an idea. My plan is to stay here for a very long time Joe. You're gonna have to take that dream to the graves and that's a damn shame."
"Maybe in another life you could've done it. Another life, in another world where Mark doesn't exist. Except that's not the case. I do exist and I'm the American Justice champion. I'm Your Heron and Mine and you're living in my world."
He sadistically smiled, clasping his hands together. To say that he was confident would've somehow been an understatement. He was more than just confident. But words were just words, with no real relevance or importance. Now it was just about deliverance. There was nothing more important than that.
"I've got the whole world in my hands, Joe. But like my other opponents, I bid you good luck. Deacon Crane, Nameless, Compact, Crippler... I wished them all good luck and their fates are sealed. Crane and Nameless are nothing more than a distant memory, a memory that I have tarnished and burned into ashes. Crippler is now an opening act but he'll rise, eventually. But you see the pattern don't you?"
Rhetorically, he asked.
"They've all fallen, and your fate will be no different."
"From Your Hero, and Mine."
The scene faded to black.
