Post by patera on Jul 8, 2011 20:48:04 GMT -5
Another match, another casualty. It never gets old now, does it? I mean, I warned you all that I would be destroying whomever was placed in the ring with me at Retribution, but did anyone listen? Oh hell no. Don’t act like you miss our resident angry redneck though. Let’s be honest. He was all hype and no skill to begin with anyway. Good old Chuck Johnson, the loudest boozehead in the business, is now just another wheelchair rider with broken dreams.. Courtesy of me.
How many people is that now that I have put on the shelf? I am starting to lose count to be honest. This would be a whole lot easier if someone would just do as I have said many times now and brought my World Championship back into my possession. I am the rightful owner after all. The man that you all see parading around with it in all of his “Justin Beiber meets Final Fantasy” glory is an imposter. I will talk more on him later though. The truth of the matter is, I am the REAL World Champion. No one has ever pinned my ass for that World Title and to be honest.. No one ever will. That whole little screw job involving Brett Cross was just that…
A screw job.
Now, before I get into the meat and potatoes of why I am going to fucking eat my opponents alive, I wanted to remind the world of something. You can’t fight fate. You see, just as Chuck Johnson learned at Retribution, I am a fucking freight train. This train is moving at light speed and there ain’t no stopping me now. That World Title will be mine once again, even if I have to fill up an entire emergency room full of the EUW roster to get it. I promise you that. Wait, I guess we are the Asylum now, aren’t we? Fuck it…
Different name… same bullshit.
St. Joseph’s School for Juveniles.
Summer of 1989.
The cold San Francisco Bay air blows over the well worn down plaster that surrounds the facility as a school yard springs to life. Various doors open, strategically positioned around the yard as armed guards patrol above on walkways. A clock strikes 12:00 pm exactly as the boys (or inmates) enter the yard. A large group of boys walk into view at the far side of the yard, huddled against one another. There is a bit of pushing and shoving, nothing too extreme, as one of the guards takes notice only to continue on with his patrol with a slight shake of the head.
Down in the yard, one boy who seems much larger than the others, grits his teeth as the rest around him grunt and toss what looks to be money on the muddied grass before him. Across from the large boy, another kid slams his fist into the other hand as what looks to be a fight is about to take place. With a smile, he then shouts out loud with a aggressive tone, declaring his dominance. “Is that it?! Come on down and watch me split Billy the Fat ass’s lip in two!! There is no way that he can take on all three of us at once. Easy money if you ask me!”
“Three of us?” mumbles the boy now known as Billy in response. “That wasn’t the deal.”
Laughing, the boy continues to taunt Billy. “What? Are you afraid?! Look, Billy Johnson is wimping out like a bitch!”
“Who’re you calling a Bitch!” grunts Billy now. “I will take on all three of you then! Just say the word!”
Stepping in to view now are two other boys, each one slightly larger than the first. The crowd continues to form around the boys as a human wall is slowly created to not only block the view of the guards… but to keep the fighters enclosed within. A few tense moments go by now, as Billy bites down upon his lip. Stretching his fingers, he scans each opponent, noticing every flaw about them. They all have one thing in common..
They are already afraid.
“DO IT! NOW!” shouts an onlooker.
Immediately, all four of the kids slam into one another! Being the largest of the pack, Billy uses his body size to position himself in just the right spot. Reaching out, he grabs for anything that he can, finding flesh in the form of an exposed neck! He grips it hard, surprising his own self in the process as that flesh crumbles within his fingertips! His vision is immediately obscured now as he takes a shot to the cheek from an incoming punch. This only adds fuel to the fire as he flings one kid aside, grabbing a hold of the new one standing before him! With a hard elbow, he drives it into the face of attacker. He repeats this again and again, all the while carrying the last boy that is still up upon his large back! Above the raucous, the guards finally take notice as one runs to another with rifle in hand and yells “Hey man, signal the bell! Do you see what is going on down there?”
“Sure do.” answers the other guard. “I see a kid about to win me fifty bucks. Let it happen.”
A sickening thud echoes through the air as another person falls at Billy’s dirtied sneakers, a victim of a hard headbutt that instantly shatters nose cartilage. Having finally seen enough, the guard shoves his way into the security hub and signals the alarm. “That’s it!”
Ripping the last of his opponents off of his back, Billy begins to strangle him. His eyes are a deep shade of crimson as he finds himself lost in a blood rage like never before! Images of his mother and father enter his mind, memories of them abandoning him just 10 years prior. These images put Billy over the edge as he begins to clamp down hard on the neck of the last opponent. Behind him, the crowd begins to disperse as heavily armored prison guards race to the scene! With a hoarse whisper, Billy leans in and speaks to his prey through sprayed spittle. “Now.. WHO IS THE BITCH?!”
Billy then leans foreword as his arms are yanked back behind him! The inmates begin to scream “TITAN TITAN TITAN!” as he is slowly yanked away from his prey! Still lost in the fury, Billy opens his mouth and literally takes a bite out of the now unconscious boy in his hands before finally being yanked off of him! Quickly, stun guns and shock sticks are applied to his flesh, sending jolts of electricity through his body. Still awake, Billy falls down upon his back. His eyes are open as he takes in the hushed cheers of the prison yard…
Despite the odds.. The monster had prevailed.
Present Day. Somewhere between California and New York.
American Airlines, Flight 34.
“Billy, wake up! BILLY! Are you okay?!!”
Suddenly finding himself awake, Billy Johnson aka TITAN, looks around as he shakes off the grogginess. Nearby airline passengers glare at him with disdain as he turns to look at the man who had awakened him so suddenly. Clearing his throat after, Titan lets out a short laugh as he straightens his silk shirt. Stepping back now, Barry Jordan finds a seat once more beside Titan. Always dressed to the nines, Barry does his best to reassure the passengers around them with a handsome smile before turning to speak to his prized client. “Bad Dream?”
“Bad?” answers Titan with out any emotion. “Not at all. Was more like.. A memory best not forgotten.”
Satisfied with the answer, Barry leans back in his seat and sips coffee out of his shiny Asylum mug. The flight from California to New York had been quite uneventful to this point, with hardly any hold ups due to the increased security in the face of the terrorist attacks on 9/11. Barry was actually quite surprised that Titan seemed so calm at all with how things had gone at the last show. At Barry’s urging, Titan walked out to the ring and spoke to a packed house, declaring his candidacy for the World Championship. Yet, nothing was ever a sure thing as Jack Bull made his way to the ring as well to argue the point. Before the night was over, Titan had received the title shot though. The catch? A fatal fourway affair with Jack Bull, Scorpion, and Roy Viper as special guests on the Billy Johnson show. Any normal man would be fuming with the odds so obviously stacked against him. Titan was proving to be no normal man however. This excited Barry to no end. Perhaps he had finally found.. The chosen one.
“Do you need anything, son?” asked Barry now, trying to get some type of conversation going. “I can hardly tell if you are alive over there!”
“Oh, I am alive.” answers Titan as he slowly shuts his eyes once more. “I am just.. Waiting.”
“Waiting?” continues Barry once more. “Billy, you have a huge match ahead of you! The World Title can be yours once again! I can’t understand how you can be so calm right now. Where is the ferociousness? Where is the blind rage? Where is the-”
“Are you reading those fucking comic books again or something?!” laughs Titan now. “I have no reason to lose my cool. The way I see it, I am in the driver’s seat. All there is to do now is lean back in this fucked up coach class seat that you bought us… and try to get some rest.”
Still not sure of Titan’s mind set, Barry pushes the subject once again. “No reason to lose your cool? I don’t mean to over step myself by your opponents are killers, man. Plus, with Mark Rivera as the official and Roy Viper now his golden boy, it’s almost too obvious what the rules of the game will be.”
“Rules?” answers Titan suddenly. “Screw the rules. I play the game my own damn way. You see, I was cheated out of that World Title while fighting in a fatal four way match. Now, I get the chance to set things right under the same premise. It doesn’t matter who the fuck they stick in the ring with me, be it Jack Bull or Superman! I am going to take back what is mine and no one will ever fucking doubt me again. You see killers out there? I see nothing but a bunch of half assed pansies. As for Mark Rivera, I say let him get involved. He knows where the power is in that company. He wouldn’t dare fuck me over. It would be a real shame if this whole Asylum bullshit ended after only two shows if you catch my drift..”
“Alright.” answers Barry with a sigh. “Just remember, overconfidence can be a huge weakness.”
“Weakness?” answers Titan as he leans back once more. “Ask Jack Bull about weaknesses. He showed plenty of that when he had failed in that last title shot of his. Hell, you could even ask that prick, Roy Viper, about weaknesses if you want! That kid is still trying to be a Chris Sabora clone but only finds himself failing miserably in the process. No, I have no weaknesses. If you want to continue to be my manager… you’ll start seeing that yourself.”
Closing his eyes once again, Titan tries to fall back to sleep as Barry Jordan turns to look out the window to his left. A small smile appears upon his face as he lets himself drown in the moment. All his life he had struggled to find the next big thing, be it in the boxing world or the wrestling industry. Men who showed such promise often turned out to only be a flash in the pain, easily forgotten as time went by. This kid was something entirely different though. It was as if he fed on some type of rage, implanted within him at an early age. This was a rage that seemed to burn without provocation, endlessly scorching his soul as a reminder of some type of tragedy. What this tragedy could be, Barry was not so certain. Thinking that it would be wise to learn of his clients history, Barry quietly removes his cell phone from his pants pocket. Glancing in Titan’s direction, Barry dials a number and waits for a dial tone.
“Hello? Yes. I want you to get me the background on Billy Johnson. Yes, he goes by TITAN. I want to know everything about him from the moment that he was conceived to the last time that he had breakfast. Good… I will wait on your word.”
Hanging up the phone, Jordan leans back in the chair and continues to watch the clouds pass by the window. In the distance, he could see the tall buildings of New York City approaching. It was within this state that Titan would regain his World Championship, his career coming full circle. With all of his constant growling and anger, Titan also brought suppressed memories. It was these memories that obviously fueled his rage. Barry vowed to himself to learn of these memories and ensure that they stay in the former champion’s mind for years to come.
There was no need to wreck a good thing now.. Was there?
Here we are once again. The eve of destruction. It’s moments like these that I live for. I will get the chance to win back something that should NEVER have left my personal possession in the first place! A crime will be redeemed and things will be set right once again.The World Championship will be with it’s rightful owner.
To say that I am hungry would be an understatement. All week long, I have watched the news in hopes of finding some type of indication that my opponents are just as eager as I am to get this party started. Yet, as I sat on my couch, twiddling my fingertips, the closest thing that I have seen to any type of manhood from my three competitors is a right guard commercial starring Jack Bull. The ironic thing about that commercial is that even with all of that deodorant sponsorship of his… the man still stinks. So, it will be me who fires the first shots I suppose. I am not surprised in the least, really. You see, since I have arrived in the EUW… or Asylum… I have had to deal with being placed in the ring with sub-par talent constantly. What ever happened to the slogan “Do you want to be a champion?” I will tell you what happened to it…
It died before it was ever implemented… just like the rest of the promise of talent around here.
In just a few short days, I am scheduled to step in the ring with three fucktards who in my honest opinion, shouldn’t be in the ring with me at all! I mean, come on. Roy Viper… really? Jack Bull too? Perhaps the biggest joke of them all though is the man who is carrying around my world championship though.. Scorpion. No, if anything, this title opportunity only sickens me and that is putting it mildly. Look at what I have done this year and tell me that those fools stand a chance against me?!! I have literally put to rest some of the best in this damn business without batting an eye! From Chris Sabora to Chuck Johnson, no one has even come close to putting me to the test. Hell, if you want to be truthful about it, even the current World Champion hasn’t been able to handle me either. He won that little strap thanks to some much needed help by Brett Cross. There will be no Cross to save him this time though. The reality is this..
Scorpion should invite Brett Cross to every damn Christmas party he hosts for the course of his lifetime. Had there been no Cross.. there would be no World Championship for him.
Scorpion knows this though. That is why he insists on ducking me. This man chooses to remain silent and wander the halls of the company like he is some sort of enigma or something when in truth, he is nothing more than a fucking coward. That’s right, I said it. The Scorpion is a coward and I aim to prove it to the world. Now, the smart man would believe me considering my track record and all. I have studied this man since that lucky break of his and taken notes. There is nothing that he can do in my ring that will surprise me now. He is a man of opportunity, the kind of guy who hedges his bets on stealing a win rather than actually getting it straight up. From his fancy talk to his endless ranting about bullshit religions, I have truly had enough of him. The man wants to meet his maker pretty bad from the sounds of it… and I am more than happy to send him there. The way he dodges problems and still comes out ahead, he might have a future career in politics. The Democrats would love to have him..
Of course, there will always be other issues to tend to when dealing with matters of this kind of importance. I will have to divide my attentions to the other two scrubs in the affair but make no mistake about it, it won’t be a problem for me at all. Mark Rivera’s newest “Golden Boy”, Roy Viper, is finally getting a World Title shot. Now, I don’t know how in the fuck his name even came up in this but so be it. I can only imagine the amount of times that Viper has gone down on his knees to secure a place in this match. Sadly, it is all for nothing. That little fuck is going to receive a harsh dose of reality. What he should do is take a good hard look in the mirror and really ask himself if he values his life. I don’t mean the normal type of value either. I am talking about, does he wish to continue his career and lifestyle as he has been doing? If the answer is yes to any of this, then he should avoid the arena on Sunday like the plague! You see, all I have been hearing lately is his name being tossed around! I am sick of it! The man walks out to the ring one day and attacks Kirk Kennedy with a chair and all of a sudden the entire world is bowing to this man! What the fuck is that about?!
No, I am going to break that G.I.JOE themed kid in half and make an example out of him. There is only one man to fear in this fed and that is ME! I have dealt with plenty of idiots who stake their careers on mixed martial arts training like he does. They are all the same. Viper will come at me with all of that “Bruce Lee” shit and quickly realize that he doesn’t stand a chance in hell… plain and simple. If he is lucky, I may take that wrecked bitch of a girlfriend that he has after the match and bring her home with me. It’s been awhile since she has felt the touch of a real man, after all. See? I am not always a monster..
Wow, did I get caught up with that Viper kid or what? Don’t worry, my mind has never forgotten about the last opponent in my match come Sunday… Jack “I can’t win the big one” Bull. I bet that stung, didn’t it? The truth fucking hurts. I mean, Jack could say that I was only World Champion for a week but in truth, that is 7 days more than he has ever held it. As a matter of fact, I often find myself sitting here and laughing out loud when thinking over how retards like him end up in the main event. Yet, the company never learns. They just keep shoving people like him into the limelight over and over until either the fans grow tired of it or the talentless competitor gets hurt. Well, since the fans seem to eat up everything that Bull says, I am left with the lucky job of hurting the man… permanently. It shouldn't be hard to do, really. How much drive could this man possibly have left in him, right? As of late, he has had his ass handed to him by pretty much everybody! This is what the Asylum thinks about when choosing a World Title contender? Fuck, I bet even that douche bag Diabolik could take him out right now..
That is why I will relish the opportunity.
You see, someone needs to knock Jack Bull on his ass. I don’t mean an inspiring ass kicking just to push the man to fight harder. No, I am talking about a full fledged slaying that leaves him rethinking his future career options. Will it be the wheelchair or a wooden leg? Should I break his back or his jaw? How about all of the above? Let’s start with the jaw first so that we can finally have some peace and quiet around here from his constant shit talking! I will give credit where credit is due though, he certainly talks a mean game. That’s where it ends though. Once the bell rings, good old Jack is nothing more than a fast talking bitch with a lackluster Pure Title reign to brag about. That’s right, let’s be honest here. Who the fuck was even around to truly challenge the man? Was it Brett Cross? Come on now. Warrior? That old fuck is too stupid to realize that his best days, if there ever truly was any, are long gone. Danny Tenfold? Wait.. He broke Jack off and took the title from him. I could really dig harder and find out just who Jack faced but I won’t bother. The man is a fucking joke. Good comedy? Sure. Not much else though. Bottom line, he should have stayed out of my affairs. This is HIS fucking fault.. Not mine.
That brings us to our fake World Champion once again. The very man that I began this rant about is the man whom I will end it with. The Scorpion, the man who once lit his own damn arm on fire to prove a fucking point will be my main focus. I can not wait for that bell to ring. I am literally shaking over here in anticipation! For the past few months, I have had to endure countless remarks about my week long title reign thanks to him. The anger in me has had time to just stew and boil over now until it has reached it’s breaking point. No amount of push ups nor sit ups have sufficed to take my mind off of Scorpion long enough to give me a moments peace. When I close my eyes, I picture that man lying in his own blood. When I dream, it’s of me snapping his fucking arm in two! That is how serious this is to me. No one will get in my way, I promise you that. Scorpion is doing nothing more than returning my World Championship to me on Sunday. I will thank him by painting his eye black in return with my knuckles.
The time is almost at hand and the gauntlet is set to begin. A man who claims to be “Righteous” has lived in sin, claiming to be a world champion that he is not. It's time to correct this. I will remind the world why I am the most dominant man to ever step in that ring. There has never been a man of my caliber in the history of the Asylum. No one can stop me… NO ONE! Despite the odds… This Monster Will Prevail like he always does...
On Sunday, it will not just be the time for victory...
IT WILL BE TIME TO FEAST!!