| CPW Showcase Match: Mr. Abraham vs. Solidus Filth | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 18 2012, 11:08 PM (247 Views) | |
| Bobbie Hearst | Nov 18 2012, 11:08 PM Post #1 |
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Mr. Abraham vs. Solidus Filth 2 rp limit Deadline: Thursday December 13th at 11:59 EST |
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| Abraham | Nov 23 2012, 07:23 PM Post #2 |
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“I'm getting too old for this.” For what must have been the two dozenth time that day I found myself thinking that thought. The last year or so had not been kind to me. For the past several months I'd been locked away locked away in a minimum security prison, my greed having finally caught up with me and my record now containing charges of insider trading, tax fraud and tax evasion. And honestly had that been all I wouldn't be complaining right now. No, you see my board of directors and my back stabbing little brother had finally grown sick my antics. The slimy, traitorous little pricks had been trying to find ways to make me take an early retirement from my position as CEO of Iron Head Gyms for years. The whole jail thing had simply provided them with the ammunition they needed to make the shot and take my baby away from me. It had taken me years to build the franchise up from some low rent gym in Florida that I inherited from my late manager to a multimillion business that included gyms, health clubs, spas and numerous sponsored athletes. It had taken them a couple days in court and some very good lawyers to take that away from me. “Those sons of bitches will get theirs,” I found myself muttering as I stepped back into the squat rack. I was down, but not out, not by a long shot. I still had money stashed away in accounts where those vultures and their lawyers couldn't get to it. It wouldn't last forever but it was enough for the present. I still remembered what it was like to bounce around in the indies and live out of my truck. I might not have enjoyed it but I could do it. Besides, I highly doubted this latest hit to my standard of living would ever be hard enough to knock me back into those kind of conditions. “Just a few more sets,” I thought as my now screaming legs carried the two hundred and fifty pounds of weight I had across my shoulders down to the floor and back up again. More importantly than the money though I still had connections. I had been and most likely still was a prick. There was no sugar coating that. By almost any reasonable standard I had been a total prick but I had been a smart prick. In my various business dealings over the years I hadn't made a lot of friends but I had helped a number of influential men fatten their wallets. Sure if it benefit them, most of the men in question would throw me under a bus with an honest to God smile on their face (not that I wouldn't do the same to them) but since working with me had proven to be mutually beneficial the first time they were willing to throw me a bone and work with me again. One of them was Bobbie Hearst, a man that I or my company had done business with in one form or another in the past. Whether the guy was a lucky fool or a mad genius when it came to business I had yet to figure out. Regardless he and the his latest venture, a grand inter-promotional wrestling fed called Visionary Wrestling, was a big part of the reason that I was where I was at today; in some podunk, rough looking MMA gym in New York City trying desperately to keep pace with guys a good ten or more years younger than me. All it had taken was a few phone calls and some paper work. “Ugh fuck...” I groaned though it was masked by the loud clank that resounded as I set the weight back onto the rack. It was amazing to me how far out of shape I had gotten since my prime. I was never the type to just let myself go but back in my earlier days the routine I was doing now would have been child's play. I would have been able to do it then a couple hours later run drill or do cardio with no problems. Now though...now my body was screaming to stop though I had to keep going, especially after seeing who I was up against. My opponent for Showcase Zero, my first real opponent in a long time, was Solidus Filth. Like me he was a long time veteran of the ring, a former world champion in fact, who was making his return for reasons only he knew. He was also one of three men who could perhaps make a legitimate claim to being the best submissionist in Chaotic Pro Wrestling history. The other two being myself and the highly overrated Andrew Helms. I'd faced him before, and knew his type well. He was going be hungry to prove that he wasn't past his prime and that he even the best of the best needed to watch out for him. Simply scraping by with the old one, two, three wasn't going to be enough for him. He was going to be looking to make a statement. That was fine. He wasn't the only one. With these thoughts in my head I threw on a weight belt, clipped a couple of 45 pound plates to it and headed over to the pull up bar. I had a lot of work to do before December 15th. **** A few days later found me tired and sore, worn out and beat up from my training but nobody would ever be able to tell that just from looking at me. I was in a rented out office building dolled up and wearing one of the my most expensive suits. I'd agreed to shoot a promo for my match at Showcase Zero, one that, according to Visionary Wrestling's marketing department was meant to do two things. The first was to hype the match between me and Solidus Filth, make people remember why they used to pay so much money to see guys like me and him fight. The second was to make them hate me again. Apparently they felt that I'd been away for so long that I'd all but lost whatever heat I my have had in my time away from the cameras. That wouldn't be a problem. Getting to the people to want to see me get my ass kicked was always one of my top talents. I sat behind a freshly polished desk with my shoes propped and sporting a smile scientifically designed, tested and proven to make people want to see me get punched right in the face. The average wrestling fan didn't know about my monetary or legal issues. To them I was still the politicking prick. The sick sociopath. The old Machiavellian millionaire that they loved to loath. I could go on but you get the idea. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and I use those terms loosely. Did you miss me?” I said as soon as I was given the signal that the cameras were rolling. “It's been a long time since you pitiful creatures had the honor of throwing your money away in hopes that your hero of the month would somehow put me in my place. To those of you haven't gotten to have such an honor yet don't worry you soon will. December 15th is a date you should all make sure to remember. Write it down, mark it on your calendars, get it tattooed on your arms if you have to because when that night comes Visionary Wrestling Incorporated will present Showcase Zero and you miserable maggots will get to see exactly why these,” I shudder with disgust “other federations aren't even worth mentioning in the same breath as Chaotic Pro Wrestling unless, God forbid, I'm competing in them. Don't believe me? Come the 15th you'll see it with your own eyes when I take on one of CPW's founding fathers in what should probably be the main event since it's going to inevitably steal the whole damn show.” It was at this moment that I took my feet off the desk and ditched the smile. “Speaking of which how have you been Mr. Filth? It's been awhile since you and I crossed paths hasn't it? Not since my Asha days anyways and if I remember correctly we never did figure who just who among us was the best at making others tap out or pass out.” My voice was more intense now and my there was a more focused look in my eyes. Most of this was an act, something that stemmed from years of practice in front of audiences, cameras and mirrors but a small part of it was legit. “We both know that I don't particularly care about titles unless I feel like I need a pay raise or that wearing some gaudy golden belt will help me prove one point or another but I take great pride in my work as a submission master. I can't even begin to count the number of days, weeks and months I've spent in the gym learning and perfecting new ways to get that wonderful high that only comes from feeling a normally great fighter go limp in my arms or to hear that wonderful music that's only produced by muscle and bone when it finally gives in and snaps. It's because of this pride Mr. Filth that it still bothers me that somewhere out there there are those who think that my skills in that area are inferior to yours.” I chuckle a light but sadistic sounding chuckle. “And that...well that just won't do. Our match in Madison Square Garden can theoretically end in a number of ways. It can end with a true spear out of nowhere. It could end when one of us gets bored and decides that match could use a bit more blood and metal. It could even end by one of us refusing to get back in the ring for whatever reason. But if I have my way and I sincerely hope that if you have yours, there's only one way it will really end. Either you will become the first man in history to make me submit to you or I will become the second man in history to make you submit to me. The last couple of years have not been kind to me Mr. Filth. Come Showcase Zero, I plan to change all that. I hope you're ready Solidus because you can be damn sure that I will be.” And with that I was given the signal and the scene cut to black. |
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| Solidus | Dec 1 2012, 01:15 PM Post #3 |
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He'd known the ring, once. He'd known it well. But that had been a lifetime ago. Perhaps it had been another life entirely. A half-cocked dream, pitched with fever and grand delusions. For all his experience, all his renown --he could scarcely remember what the canvas felt like. Once, he'd held the squared circle dear. Once, he'd been a wrestler. A prodigal son, the uncrowned Prince of CPW. But that had been a lifetime ago... "Tell me... why come back? Why return to represent the company you left behind? What about your son?" The scene might have been familiar, to another man. A man who'd lived his life as a public spectacle. A man who prided himself on putting on the best show of the night. A man that Solidus Filth might have been, once upon a time. A man he was no longer. As he surveys his surroundings on this night, a surreal feeling creeps on over him. Just how long had it been? The last time he'd stepped foot in an arena... He'd been prepared to kill a man. "Why... I think what you really mean... is should I be returning, to represent the company my father built." A Grand Stadium. Madison Square Garden. Some say it is the grandest stage of all. Here, on the precipice, it might very well be. Showcase Zero draws near, and as the day comes close -the more the stage is set. The crews, the banners, the lights, the cameras... a familiar scene, to another man. Solidus stands at the precipice of the stage, gazing. His eyes are drawn back, and dulled. A camera stares him dead in the eye. And the only thing he can remember was wanting to kill a man. Wanting to die... when he was already dead. "There was a time... not so long ago, even... that I would have been the first person who rightfully should represent CPW. In anything. Today, however, too many would agree that I am the last person who bears right to wear the company logo. I can't say that I would argue that, either. I've thought about it... a lot. And you know, when it came down to it... it wasn't a question of should I, or shouldn't I. The answer I found, when I asked myself why I should be here. Well, I'm not sure how to say this... The answer... is I have to be here." They say that when you die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. Nobody ever talks about what happens when you keep on living, however, after your entire life has vanished. When everything you ever were is suddenly gone, how do you keep going? There are a million ways that you're told to deal with grief. At first, you'll find sympathy. You'll find empathy. A shoulder to lean on, to cry on. But none of that makes the pain go away. Sooner or later, you're simply told to move on. But how can you? No matter what, under any circumstance... the most you can hope for is to accept the pain. Accept the giant hole torn inside you. But what will never happen, what cannot happen -you cannot go back. You can manage the pain, but you'll never be the same again. Ever. "I have to be here, and I can't explain it. Everyone in CPW knows what happened. I lost my wife, Simone, and--- I never recovered. I tried my damnedest to get Joe Summers to kill me. And you know what, he actually went through with it. He's a good man, and I forced him to do something no man should ever have to be put through. But he brought me back. He killed me, my heart stopped -and then he resuscitated me, shutting the door between me and damnation. I... I couldn't forgive him, for that. And now, I don't know if I can forgive myself. But I'm not looking for forgiveness. Truth be told, I don't know what I'm looking for. I see my son, and I remember when he came out to that ring and pleaded with me... Daddy... Daddy stop, he said. And that was the last time I ever entered the ring." Memories. Sometimes that's all you have. And they can be so misleading. You remember who you were. Who you thought you were. But were you ever that person? How can you have been that person, and still have turned out the way you are? Memories are sometimes best left behind, just in the far reaches of dim recollection. No man can ever fight against fate. But he can accept truth. He can accept himself. In spite of everything. In spite of failure, triumph, happiness and sadness. He can confront his self and take his own actions in hand. Sometimes, with what you have, that's all you can do. "I want to make one thing clear. I am not looking for justification. I'm not looking to prove myself, not to anyone. You can talk about glory. You can talk about making a statement. You can talk about the past, present, and future. And it doesn't matter. I suppose that sets me apart from most of my competition. I'm no savior. I'm no answer. I'm... just me. A fucked up guy, looking for my own piece of mind. And when I get down to that ring, I want my son to see --I want him to... Look, I stood for Chaotic Pro Wrestling for years. My father built this company. I ran it. I won gold there. I found myself in that ring, in a way I never imagined. Chaos might have defined me, for a time. But I want my son to see that not everything has to end that way. I want him to know that we're not defined by any one moment of our lives. I want him to see that you can accept what's happened, and fight on." He'd known the ring. He'd known it well. But that had been a lifetime ago... he was a new man, now. |
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| Abraham | Dec 9 2012, 10:56 PM Post #4 |
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Lee couldn't believe it. That son of a bitch had actually no sold him. The old vet had seen Solidus' little promo. He'd watched on his lap top over and over again on loop. He'd watched as a once great wrestler ignored the fact that he had a match at a major and had instead opted to bitch and whine about things nobody else could possibly care about. Honestly Lee Abraham was insulted. He'd figured he was at least still relevant enough to make some washed up, old, mostly retired has been pay attention to him. “You know Solidus, even for you that was fucking pathetic...” The scene opens inside Mr. Abraham's bedroom. The promo was being filmed from the camera on Abraham's lap top, inside his dimly lit hotel room. “I mean you've shown in the past that you can be a whiny, self entitled, over emotional little bitch but I think that might have been a new low even for you. Here I am training my ass off, getting my body and my mind into the best fighting shape either have been in in years thinking I'm going to be facing a returning ex-world champion, a veteran, who's as determined as myself to prove that he still has all the qualities that made people stand up and pay attention to begin with. Instead you give me...” There is a long pause as an absolute look of disgust appears on the ex-world champion's face. “...Whatever you want to call that miserable abortion you just made myself and the rest of the world suffer through seeing. If I wanted to listen to some overly emotional man child bitch about how hard he has it I would have found some idiot trying to do the dark and edgy gimmick in some shitty independent fed nobody gives a rat's ass about like Warped or New Wave and had them fight me instead. At least that cocksucker would be thankful for the opportunity. I mean hell Solidus you act like you're the only one whose ever gone too far or lost someone close to you and if you really do believe that. If you really are so fucking stupid that you think that even a single syllable of that is true then look at the man who, not to long from now, is going to be trying his damnedest to choke the life out of you in front of the world. We all know about me and Axl, about how he murdered my sister on live television and got away with because her injuries were suffered during the match and wrestlers in Chaotic Pro Wrestling are thoroughly protected from such liabilities due to all number of legally binding documents. Lord knows I've ranted and raved about it enough times that I'm fairly confident I could actually use that story to bore most of my opponents into submission so I'll spare you the pain. The short version of it is this Solidus: If Simone was still around she would slap the shit out of you you selfish, self loathing, son of a bitch. You have a chance for redemption Mr. Filth a chance to get your feet back on track and your head back in the game. You have a chance to make your young son feel a sense of pride in his father again instead of a sense of absolute shame and all you can do is bitch and moan about Joe Summers this and Joe Summers that. Are you really so self absorbed and narcissistic that you actually think anybody still gives a shit? We have chance to do something great on fifteenth Solidus and I'll be damned if I let you take that opportunity away from me. Remember Solidus, one of the differences between guys like you and Joe and a guy like me is that I actually know what it feels feels like to end a life. I discovered that feeling as a soldier in the Marines before I ever set foot in the ring. I felt it again when, at my command, my stable made Joe and Denni Summers lose their child. And I got to learn what it felt like being on the receiving end of those kinds of actions when I watched Axl take my baby sister away from me and my family, all so that he could prove a point to me. It hurts like hell but after awhile you get used to it. Right now the biggest difference between me and you Solidus is that I'm focused squarely on the present and the future. I'm not interested in redemption, or forgiveness or any of that other bullshit moralist mumbo-jumbo like you seem to be. I don't care about making anybody look at me in an all new light. In fact, I honestly couldn't give less of a shit of the whole world thought I was the devil incarnate. Showcase Zero is MY chance to get MY life back on track and I'll be damned if I let you ruin that chance for me! I want to face Solidus Filth the multiple time champion and former world champion. I want to face Solidus Filth the master of the Solidus Sleeper and one of the greatest god damn submission masters the wrestling world has ever known. If you don't give me what I want you can rest assured that I won't be as kind of Mr. Summer. Unlike him I won't chicken out when I decide to put you out of the world's misery because I know that like him and Axl and myself and anybody else who has ever accidentally gone just a little too far I can get away with it without any sort of repercussions other than perhaps a canned apology because it will all be seen as just another part of the show. I hope we have an understanding Solidus. Either you step up at Showcase Zero and give me the Solidus Filth that I want or so help me I will put you down.” And with that Mr. Abraham reached forward and turned off the camera causing the scene to cut to black. The video would be sent to the Visionary Wrestling Incorporated's marketing department where I would be uploaded first on the company's main page and then later onto Youtube and other such sites where it would hopefully go viral. As for Mr. Abraham and whether or not he truly meant what he was saying or if he was simply trying to rile Solidus Filth up and get under the man's skin as he been apt to do in the past. Well, that remained to be seen. Edited by Abraham, Dec 9 2012, 10:56 PM.
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3:40 AM Jul 11