Post by casablancas on Aug 26, 2015 15:34:11 GMT -5
They say 'heavy lies the crown', and Leo Casablancas knew that only too well. He had been king for a day, NGW General Manager for one night and one night only. He had built the card around his plans and visions, dishing out reward and punishment in equal measures. Devlin Scott had relinquished his power and the keys to the kingdom were firmly in the hands of the man from New York. He had control, he had the capacity to do as he pleased, and an opportunity to rebuild the company in his image. It wasn't beneficial to thrust himself straight into Heavyweight Title picture, he knew that. If he lost his shot at the Title he would only fall back down the mountain from whence he came and be back on the undercard curtain jerking against midgets and underdogs. So he made his call to arms and repaid those who elevated him into the limelight. And so it came to pass. It didn't entirely go to plan but the first job was done. Keg was removed from the Five Lakes Title picture, but one step forward became two steps back when Devlin pushed the drunken anti-hero into the Heavyweight Title scene. And to make matters worse The Phoenix rose from the ashes dashing all hopes and dreams of his revolutionaries prising the belt from the fingers of Carmine Reaper.
A suspension to boot and the subsequent release of TJ McDaniels from his contract left a bitter taste in Leo's mouth. Back in his New York apartment he painted a very lonely picture, surrounded by empty beer bottles and dozens of cigarette butts. The curtains were drawn, and the smoke-filled room saw very little light bar the flickering images of the television screen. He had watched the events unfold in his absence, allowing himself a wry smile as Devlin's 'chosen heroes' fell from grave. Keg, for the time being would have to wait for his Heavyweight Title shot, much to Leo's pleasure. And Carmine Reaper was dethroned, just as he had hoped. It didn't matter who beat him, John William Kkngsley had been thrown into the fire when he was General Manager for the purpose of upstaging Stone Hemingway. But he took full advantage of his opportunity and now he was champion. Power to him, Leo thought. He loathed every one this side of the Atlantic but Leo wasn't particularly patriotic. The American fans that hurled abuse at him from behind their plastic cups and television sets only further severed his pride in the Star-Spangled Banner.
He leant forward from the sofa and waded through the mess that had gathered on his coffee table in his lethargic slumber. Underneath the plethora of ash trays, empty beer cans and half-eaten take-outs he found his laptop and lifted the screen up to face him. As it loaded he lit another cigarette and blew the smoke towards the screen. As it swirled around the corners of the device and back towards him he hit a button initiating a red light to record.
LEO: Three hard earned victories against zero defeats. And what do I get to show for it? A two week suspension and demotion to the bottom of the barrel. I sacrificed a chance to fight for the Heavyweight Title, I sacrificed a shot at the Five Lakes Title. I let others have their moment in the spotlight. I gave TJ McDaniels his moment in the spotlight and he failed, just like he always has done. But Charlie Ngatai, the only man worth his salt around here.. He got the job done.
But where is my reward for this selfless act? Where does Devlin Scott get off on suspending me despite laying on the best night if wrestling since this company's inception? Try as he might to hold me back but one by one I will rid this place of the talentless saps that he pushes to the moon. But what of me? What of Leo Casablancas? A paltry number one contendership to the Marquee Title. A chance to represent the gateway to this circus of sports entertainment, a fitting name for this freak show.
I left my reputation at the door when I came here. I paid my dues on the New York wrestling scene and I was the biggest name on the books. But I wasn't satisfied. I needed another feather to my bow, and I went in search of new adventure. NGW, I thought, would be the place to quench my thirst. But I was wrong. I am three and 'O'. That's three wins and no defeats. The same win-loss record as Alioth Starre. Yet somehow he has an opportunity to win the Heavyweight Title three weeks from now, while I'll be in the shadows facing either a woman or a midget.
Don't get me wrong, Alioth Starre is a proficient wrestler. They detest the very sound of his name but he knows he has all the ambivalent indie darlings in his pocket once he steps out into that ring. But this isn't about him. You see, I knew what he was, I knew what he had to offer and that's why when I was General Manager I put him in the ring against John Carter. I sat in the back and watched with satisfaction as the "Great American Underdog" John Carter humiliated himself in front of his own fans. He brought shame, and disgrace to the Star-Spangled Banner. It didn't matter to me who beat him, I didn't care what flag found it's way to the top of that pole. Great Britain, Canada, Papa New Guinea, it's immaterial. I just wanted to see John Carter let the fans down. And he duly obliged.
You see since this company opened its doors it's been a revolving door of talent, bar the loyal few jobbers that have stuck around. Most of them are out the door as quick as they came in. So you have to ask yourself, Devlin, why is that? Is it because of their hectic wrestling schedules? No. Is it because they weren't good enough? Wrong again. It's because their eyes were firmly open. They saw this car crash coming and they didn't want to be a passenger when it happened! For too long now Devlin Scott has pushed his chosen few into the big time! Guys like Carmine Reaper, Keg, Hayden Phoenix, and of course John Carter. Even now, he continues to bury this company into the ground by hand picking opponents for his chosen starlets! Tell me, why is Tara Blackhart going one on one with a midget porn star, when she should be defending her Title against myself? Why am I subjected to this cesspit of misfits to earn what's rightfully mine? John Carter is a TWO TIME Five Lakes champion, yet he's only ever won four matches? What does that tell you about his unmerited opportunities? It reaks of nepotism if you ask me. And the idiot fans that cheer for these people are just as bad if not worse! John Carter doesn't deserve your support! Neither does Keg, Carmine Reaper, or Hayden Phoenix. Tell me, what's so amiable about a drunken hobo like Keg? Or a lonely recluse like Carmine Reaper? Or even a man like Hayden Phoenix - who, if you'll recall, almost sold his soul to creep his way into the Heavyweight Title picture. And why do you cheer for his talentless sidekick, Isabella Rossi?
I guess the 'Summer of Izzy' is almost over now, and what is there to show for it? A tainted XX Title run, and more recently an embarrassing defeat to a horny dwarf! You don't deserve this shot, Isabella. You're exactly what Devlin Scott wants, what he continues to push on the fans as the "heroes" of NGW.."
He made inverted commas with his fingers.
"..talentless and tenacious. That's what he likes. That's what he gives the fans. People who give their all, but ultimately, they get found wanting. What use is tenacity when you have no talent? This new belt is fast becoming a joke. Super heroes, randy midgets, assholes, mother fuckers. It's like a touring freak show. And Rossi is no exception. A bold young woman trying to make her way in a man's world. I applaud your courage but despise your stupidity. The XX Title was taken from your hands before you ruined its already waning reputation, and since then what have you done? You don't belong here, Isabella, you never will.
But everyone gets hand outs in NGW, whether they deserve then or not. Isabella, Carter, and 'The Asshole' is no exception. A debut win in front of an empty arena, fitting for a hollow victory against piss poor opposition. And then last week was merely a formality. TJ McDaniels had more opportunities than anyone. I even gave him one myself. But each and every time he failed. He was big, strong and powerful, but his head was full of air. And he didn't know an Irish whip from a Russian leg sweep. So spare the forthcoming hyperbole, Dagger, you haven't done ANYTHING here yet.
The age of mediocrity is over. This belt is beneath me and so are the characters that make up this scene. I am the star of the show here. I am the rapture of wrestling. I am the first coming, I am the second coming. I am the only coming. This is my platform to greatness. I will preside over this circus once more, the ringmaster to the freaks. It's all just a matter of time."
A suspension to boot and the subsequent release of TJ McDaniels from his contract left a bitter taste in Leo's mouth. Back in his New York apartment he painted a very lonely picture, surrounded by empty beer bottles and dozens of cigarette butts. The curtains were drawn, and the smoke-filled room saw very little light bar the flickering images of the television screen. He had watched the events unfold in his absence, allowing himself a wry smile as Devlin's 'chosen heroes' fell from grave. Keg, for the time being would have to wait for his Heavyweight Title shot, much to Leo's pleasure. And Carmine Reaper was dethroned, just as he had hoped. It didn't matter who beat him, John William Kkngsley had been thrown into the fire when he was General Manager for the purpose of upstaging Stone Hemingway. But he took full advantage of his opportunity and now he was champion. Power to him, Leo thought. He loathed every one this side of the Atlantic but Leo wasn't particularly patriotic. The American fans that hurled abuse at him from behind their plastic cups and television sets only further severed his pride in the Star-Spangled Banner.
He leant forward from the sofa and waded through the mess that had gathered on his coffee table in his lethargic slumber. Underneath the plethora of ash trays, empty beer cans and half-eaten take-outs he found his laptop and lifted the screen up to face him. As it loaded he lit another cigarette and blew the smoke towards the screen. As it swirled around the corners of the device and back towards him he hit a button initiating a red light to record.
LEO: Three hard earned victories against zero defeats. And what do I get to show for it? A two week suspension and demotion to the bottom of the barrel. I sacrificed a chance to fight for the Heavyweight Title, I sacrificed a shot at the Five Lakes Title. I let others have their moment in the spotlight. I gave TJ McDaniels his moment in the spotlight and he failed, just like he always has done. But Charlie Ngatai, the only man worth his salt around here.. He got the job done.
But where is my reward for this selfless act? Where does Devlin Scott get off on suspending me despite laying on the best night if wrestling since this company's inception? Try as he might to hold me back but one by one I will rid this place of the talentless saps that he pushes to the moon. But what of me? What of Leo Casablancas? A paltry number one contendership to the Marquee Title. A chance to represent the gateway to this circus of sports entertainment, a fitting name for this freak show.
I left my reputation at the door when I came here. I paid my dues on the New York wrestling scene and I was the biggest name on the books. But I wasn't satisfied. I needed another feather to my bow, and I went in search of new adventure. NGW, I thought, would be the place to quench my thirst. But I was wrong. I am three and 'O'. That's three wins and no defeats. The same win-loss record as Alioth Starre. Yet somehow he has an opportunity to win the Heavyweight Title three weeks from now, while I'll be in the shadows facing either a woman or a midget.
Don't get me wrong, Alioth Starre is a proficient wrestler. They detest the very sound of his name but he knows he has all the ambivalent indie darlings in his pocket once he steps out into that ring. But this isn't about him. You see, I knew what he was, I knew what he had to offer and that's why when I was General Manager I put him in the ring against John Carter. I sat in the back and watched with satisfaction as the "Great American Underdog" John Carter humiliated himself in front of his own fans. He brought shame, and disgrace to the Star-Spangled Banner. It didn't matter to me who beat him, I didn't care what flag found it's way to the top of that pole. Great Britain, Canada, Papa New Guinea, it's immaterial. I just wanted to see John Carter let the fans down. And he duly obliged.
You see since this company opened its doors it's been a revolving door of talent, bar the loyal few jobbers that have stuck around. Most of them are out the door as quick as they came in. So you have to ask yourself, Devlin, why is that? Is it because of their hectic wrestling schedules? No. Is it because they weren't good enough? Wrong again. It's because their eyes were firmly open. They saw this car crash coming and they didn't want to be a passenger when it happened! For too long now Devlin Scott has pushed his chosen few into the big time! Guys like Carmine Reaper, Keg, Hayden Phoenix, and of course John Carter. Even now, he continues to bury this company into the ground by hand picking opponents for his chosen starlets! Tell me, why is Tara Blackhart going one on one with a midget porn star, when she should be defending her Title against myself? Why am I subjected to this cesspit of misfits to earn what's rightfully mine? John Carter is a TWO TIME Five Lakes champion, yet he's only ever won four matches? What does that tell you about his unmerited opportunities? It reaks of nepotism if you ask me. And the idiot fans that cheer for these people are just as bad if not worse! John Carter doesn't deserve your support! Neither does Keg, Carmine Reaper, or Hayden Phoenix. Tell me, what's so amiable about a drunken hobo like Keg? Or a lonely recluse like Carmine Reaper? Or even a man like Hayden Phoenix - who, if you'll recall, almost sold his soul to creep his way into the Heavyweight Title picture. And why do you cheer for his talentless sidekick, Isabella Rossi?
I guess the 'Summer of Izzy' is almost over now, and what is there to show for it? A tainted XX Title run, and more recently an embarrassing defeat to a horny dwarf! You don't deserve this shot, Isabella. You're exactly what Devlin Scott wants, what he continues to push on the fans as the "heroes" of NGW.."
He made inverted commas with his fingers.
"..talentless and tenacious. That's what he likes. That's what he gives the fans. People who give their all, but ultimately, they get found wanting. What use is tenacity when you have no talent? This new belt is fast becoming a joke. Super heroes, randy midgets, assholes, mother fuckers. It's like a touring freak show. And Rossi is no exception. A bold young woman trying to make her way in a man's world. I applaud your courage but despise your stupidity. The XX Title was taken from your hands before you ruined its already waning reputation, and since then what have you done? You don't belong here, Isabella, you never will.
But everyone gets hand outs in NGW, whether they deserve then or not. Isabella, Carter, and 'The Asshole' is no exception. A debut win in front of an empty arena, fitting for a hollow victory against piss poor opposition. And then last week was merely a formality. TJ McDaniels had more opportunities than anyone. I even gave him one myself. But each and every time he failed. He was big, strong and powerful, but his head was full of air. And he didn't know an Irish whip from a Russian leg sweep. So spare the forthcoming hyperbole, Dagger, you haven't done ANYTHING here yet.
The age of mediocrity is over. This belt is beneath me and so are the characters that make up this scene. I am the star of the show here. I am the rapture of wrestling. I am the first coming, I am the second coming. I am the only coming. This is my platform to greatness. I will preside over this circus once more, the ringmaster to the freaks. It's all just a matter of time."
