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Post by Deleted on May 17, 2023 13:21:41 GMT -6
*There comes a time in a lot of wrestler's careers, where they reach a crossroad. There were no fans, no lights, no cameras when it happened, and they found themselves searching the deepest parts of their souls, trying to decide if the road forward was even worth traversing. For some, maybe it's simply because they can't seem to find a way to win. There is, however, the rare occurrence of the man who wanted more and could have it but was far more interested in the chase than the destination. This was the case with Sammeal McBane as he sat across the table from "Spanky" Evans, a writer for one of the dozens of wrestling dirt sheets across the web. Sammeal had called Evans ...it hadn't been the other way around, and that, in and of itself, had brought Evans running. It wasn't often that a guy like himself would be contacted by a professional wrestling superstar and asked for an interview, instead of the other way around, but maybe in the case of Sammeal, the man who prides himself on doing things his own way, perhaps it was par for the course for him to do the unexpected. And so, here they found themselves, in a bar downtown from the venue, an appetizer of chicken wings and a pitcher of beer between them as Sammeal was just finishing up a crazy road story from one of his times traveling with The McBane Family*Sammeal: And that's when I looked up and saw Gabriel's bare ass, hanging over the railing of the second story walkway, with the shorthand name of the fed, and his butt crack was the 'I'.*Spanky chuckled a bit, and shook his head, taking a drink of his beer. The reporter sat the glass back down, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small recorder, hitting the record button*Spanky: It's not that I haven't enjoyed hanging out with you, but I'm pretty eager. You said on the phone, you had some things that you needed to get off of your chest, and I'm a little eager to hear it.*Sammeal settled back in his chair, and takes a drink of his beer, pursing his lips a bit, and shaking his head. He shifts his weight a bit, and nods*Sammeal: As a professional, on the outside of the business looking in ...where do you see Extreme Championship Wrestling Federation in five years?*Spanky blinked a bit, taken aback by the question, and shifted his weight a bit*Spanky: Well, the average new fed has a pretty finite life span. Not everybody can be like the McMahon empire.Sammeal: Then you think it's failing??
Spanky: ...do you?
*Sammeal remains silent for a moment, taking a chicken wing and eating it quietly before washing it down with a gulp of beer, and a grimace. Spamky was a professional, he recognized what it was. Sammeal was stalling on the answer*
Sammeal: I Hate American Beer. Always tastes like, Luke warm piss.
Spanky: You haven't answered the question.
*Sammeal shifts his weight a bit, and peers around the bar before looking at Spanky*
Sammeal: You know what I am, Spanky? You know, my profession??
Spanky: I doubt, we'd be having this conversation if I didn't.
Sammeal: But do you know what it means to me? I'm a wrestler, I'm a professional. And I take a lot of pride in my body of work. You have guys in this business with twenty, thirty title reigns across however many different promotions, you've got guys with accolades longer than my arm. I've been in this game for a few years, and maybe I don't have as many championships, or as many accolades, but I'm the guy who strikes fear into the hearts of my opponents anyway. I'm the guy, who doesn't need a title belt around my waist to command respect from my opponents or the fans. And that's just fine with me, because I'm in this game for the competition of it all, the contest.
*Spanky nods his head, and shrugs a bit*
Spanky: It's my opinion, that you're not far off with that. You've made it a point to say, that you're capable of beating anyone in this business …
Sammeal: On any given night, yeah. The problem is that, when I get bored of the chase, bored of the competition, then my motivation is drained very quickly. And the fact is, that I'm kind of finding myself in that spot right now. That's why after this pay-per-view for ECWF, I'm going to be on a leave of absence for a few weeks.
*Spanky remains silent for a few moment*
Spanky: Temporary, or what?
Sammeal: Haven't decided yet. The fact is that, ECWF is kind of my last bastion, and right now it doesn't look like there's anything there for me. The competition is down to basically myseld and Lil' Ms. Haze. Every time I turn around, I'm getting saddled with crap tag partners, and mystery opponents, basically designed to deliberately try to give me a challenge, but it's a false challenge. It's basically the equivalent of being handed a blindfold, and told to throw the darts …because that's really the only way, that anyone around has a chance to beat you.
*Sammeal nods toward the dart game going on. Spanky turns back to look, and then looks back at Sammeal*
Spanky: I guess, I can see that angle.
Sammeal: Good. Because it annoys the absolute shyte out of me, and that annoyance isn't doing anything more than hastening a call to just out and out retire.
Spanky: Don't you have another mystery opponent at this show?
Sammeal: Absolutely. You're surprised by this? Because I'm not. The whole idea is to try to stop me from running rough shots over the entire rest of the roster. It's a good plan, but it's an eye opener for me in that apparently, there just isn't anyone outside of a few people in ECEF that Kaleb Steele feels comfortable can even compete on my level without handicapping me. And that's what this one is. Whoever this mystery opponent is, I guarantee you, Steele knows and feels it in his bones that they simply can't challenge me straight up, so he's got to wait and throw it at me from the shadows, because otherwise, I'm going to pull apart everything they do and expose them for the crap workers that they are. So, this week, I'll play Kaleb's game, maybe I'll still win the match, probably not. Then I'm going to go and recharge my batteries, and go from there.
*With those words, Sammeal dropped some money on the table and headed out of the bar*
~Part Two~
Shadow Walker: What do you mean, I don’t know what I'm getting into??
*The Shadow Walker looks at Rambles, the white stuffed rabbit being all fluffy and cuddly. One of his eyes hanging off, who gives a stern look back as Shadow Walker shoulders shrink and he looks dejected*
Shadow Walker: No, what you are saying is right. Maybe, I’ve bitten off more than I could chew. I don’t even know, who I am stepping in the ring with. I don’t know what kind of maniac, freak, pest is getting in there with. Heather Haze sounds like the most gawd-awful Power Ranger, all dressed in a brown turd like leotard. I don’t know, if she is a fricking Snowman, Kitty cat, and she is from the block, or if she’s still doing rock …I hope not, maybe this company is slack on the wellness programme, if that’s the case Rambles? We can start tooting that tin-foil like the good ol’ days. Well Rambles, there’s only one thing to do, let’s go and find these people. You know, like Pokemon Go or some shyte …but the people we are finding, we want to violently bury in the ground instead of catch, yeah?
*Shadow Walker looks at Rambles, and a smile emerges as they walk down the street, approaching a bus stop. Shadow Walker dressed in a purple suit, green waistcoat and shirt, his green slicked back hair looking like it's about to crawl off the top of his head and walk down the street itself. His face smudged in a gruesome mask that looks like it's been there since the last time he did a kids party years ago, the last time a parent was stupid enough to book the most horrendous, drunken, drugged up clown there is to ruin their kids' parties. He has Ramble with him, his manager and best friend, a rabbit he has had since childhood, he drags him along holding his hand. They approach the stop as a bus pulls up, the doors open and the driver looks weirdly at Shadow Walker and Rambles they get on*
Shadow Walker: Two tickets please, Sir …
Driver: You mean, one?
Shadow Walker: No, two please…one for me, and one for him ..
*Shadow Walker lifts Rambles up by the arm, looking at the bus driver like he’s an idiot. The bus driver awkwardly gives him two tickets, and looks him up and down. Shadow Walker holds Rambles to his ear, and mutters back*
Shadow Walker: I don’t know what his problem was? Why don’t you ask him, I don’t want to cause a scene.
*Shadow Walker sits down at the back, looking around him, placing Rambles next to him*
Shadow Walker: Hold on Ram, I don’t want a repeat of last time you getting stuck between the gap at the bottom, having to pick year old chewing gum out of your scrotum again.
*Shadow Walker looks around at people, before lowering his ear to Rambles, he then looks back up to a 63 year old gray haired woman sitting by the window daydreaming about days gone by*
Shadow Walker: Are you sure Rambles? I mean, I don’t want to question your knowledge of the wrestling business, I know you’re a veteran, but you think that’s Haze over there? I thought Heather was going to be a woman, a lot younger than that person. Ok Ok, I do respect you, it's just …I don’t know how I feel about beating an old lady black and blue in a ring? Surely, she isn’t capable of wrestling is she? Ok, here goes.
*Shadow Walker stands up, and scoots over to the old woman who looks at him scarily, dressed like a freak with a mask covering his grizzly face, he awkwardly smiles at the woman, who is too scared to even talk*
Shadow Walker: Haze??
*Shadow Walker shakes her hand as he sits next to the frightened lady*
Shadow Walker: I have to be honest with you Haze, I wasn’t expecting you to look like you do, no offense, You’re beautiful on the outside, and I am sure on the inside …but I just can't imagine crashing your head and scalp into that canvas. I mean, you look like you’re pushing 70, and I don’t mean to be rude …but are those both your hips? Or have you upgraded? I know, I know …it’s a sensitive subject, don’t answer it, but I can't see you busting me open, Haze. I feel like you don’t have the same bark you used to have, maybe it's time to put the old bytch down, if you know what I mean.
*Shadow Walker holds Rambles to his arm, looking shocked*
Shadow Walker: Oh god, no, by no means am I advocating suicide by the way Haze …I think it's time you hung up those wrestling boots, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t come out and wrestle at the show. It would make me feel better about crashing your balding gray forehead into the canvas and worry whether or not your heart has stopped beating. I don’t want the death of Haze on my hands. Well, not in front of people …if you know what I mean. But if you do come out, I’ll tell you what, I’ll set a little chair up for you down near the front …so you don’t have to walk far, I’ll request a little padding for that tooshy of your's, and I’ll bring you down a hot flask of tea, and you can sit there and soak in the atmosphere as you watch me bleed anyone, grabbing the golden leather trophy, and I’ll look down and give you a little wave Haze. How does that sound?
*The old woman is terrified, and shakes her head as Shadow Walker. Who smiles, as he stands up to leave the bus*
Shadow Walker: See you in the ring hHaze, you gutsy old bytch.
*Most of the passengers are appalled by Shadow Walker's language as he gets off the bus with Rambles in tow, being dragged by his arm. They step off into a different neighborhood*
Shadow Walker: Thanks Rambles, I think that went fantastic. I mean, at first …I was a little bit weary, she looks like she can pack a punch, but I called her bluff, and I think in the end …we have a mutual respect for each other.
*As the two walk down the street, they pass a woman runner, all dressed up, athletic, sweating, carrying her water bottle. Shadow Walker pauses, and looks at Rambles*
Shadow Walker: Are you sure? It's just that, what’s the chances of us bumping into TWO of my competitors in our nearby neighborhood, on the bus and running? Seems a little strange.
*Shadow Walker holds Rambles to his ear, and all of a sudden pushes him away holding his ear, gesturing to the stiffed rabbit*
Shadow Walker: Ok, ok, calm down! You’re right, you don’t let me down often. Just that time, I trusted you to fry the eggs for breakfast and I came home to a burnt home …and signed Rambles, or that time …I trusted you to rep me at the gym, and I almost choked to death! So my horrific pathetic life flashes before my eyes. Or that time, you entered me into a Sonny and Cher competition …and you left me on stage, dressed like a transsexual looking Cher and you refused to sing. But I trust you …
*Shadow Walker stops the women running past*
Shadow Walker: Heather, so nice to see you, how strange that you’re running around the block? Get it, I am a clown. I am full of funnies like that Haze.
Runner: Oh, I am sorry, you must be mistaken, my name isn’t Heather …
*Shadow Walker looks at Rambles like he is going to throttle him, he holds him up to his ear and then smiles*
Shadow Walker: It's ok Heather, we get it. You’re out here doing your thing, you want to win this match more than anything, and you’re running whilst dressed disguised. That explains, the horrible fake nose you have attached.
*The woman looks pissed off*
Runner: It's NOT fake, it's REAL asshole, and I broke it in Fifth Grade.
Shadow Walker: Whoa, that’s awkward. Less of the name calling, it's not my fault your nose gets in the way whilst you run. How do you even wrestle with that on your face? I know, you’re so used to wrestling with a tee shirt on over that honker you have really strong arms? I get it now! Well, listen, my name is The Shadow Walker and this here is Rambles, my manager, and best friend. We will be participating in the match at Rain In Blood for the Heavyweight Championship? It’s a pretty big deal to us, so if you could keep that nose, however hard that be …out of our business, then I am sure we can be friends once that bell rings and I’m victorious,? I might even let you touch the belt, huh?
*The woman looks disgusted and holds her bottle up to squirt Shadow Walker in his masked face*
Shadow Walker: Woah there Heather, not the face …not the gawd damn face! Do you know what happened last time Rambles had fluid on him? Poor little bastard had to get flung around the washing machine a thousand times. And to make it worse, he came out smelling like meadows. Which for the record, he effin' hates. Why don’t you save all that angst you have towards me, and that nose of yours, and save them for the ring, you’re going to have to bring your C, B, and A game, because I means business when I step into the ring, I bust tops and take knocks like nobody in the business today. Haze, you better carry on your running, and if I were you in those shoes, with that nose, I’d keep on running, Forrest Gump-esque until you can't run anymore, until you’ve missed the event, and missed the inevitable ass kicking you’re going to get.
*Before Shadow Walker can get attacked, he skips away from the bemused angry women, down around the corner of the street, clutching Rambles tight all the way, breathing heavily as he talks*
Shadow Walker: Are we away from her nose yet? Jeepers, you see the size of that thing, imagine the pain and destruction she is going to inflict in the first blood match with that thing attached to her face. She has a disadvantage though, there’s no way she can win with that thing! She’s going to seriously struggle, and I’ll be there to reap the benefits of having a slim line nose.
*Shadow Walker adjusts his suit, and slicks back his hair*
Shadow Walker: Ooooh, we’re here!
*The pair look up and they are at their local hardware store. They walk towards the entrance, looking all dusty, a sign in the window saying ‘OPEN’ with generic posters of drills and other hardware accessories in the window. As they walk through the door, that annoying bell sound pops up scarring Stitches to shit as he nearly tosses Pickles across the room. He composes himself and looks around. He feels out of place here, men with muscles and mustaches test drills and hammers, as he looks at tape measures all coy carrying a teddy with make-up on and green slick hair. An employee approaches him*
Employee: Hi Sir, anything I can help you with today?
*Shadow Walker mutters under his breath out of ears reach from the other people*
Shadow Walker: Can you point me in the direction of the staple guns, please …
*The Shadow Walker looks at the employee's name tag*
Shadow Walker: Um, Peter.
Peter: Sure, this way Sir.
The Shadow Walker follows him, tucking Rambles into his suit jacket pocket, like a baby kangaroo. They approach the staple guns tucked away in the corner of the shop away from everyone as The Shadow Walker spots a massive set, pulling it out from the rest, he rubs it up and down, pressing his face up against the metal, smelling it, leaving make-up behind on it. He opens it out, and estimates how many staples it can hold. Peter is beginning to look a little bit worried who this clown is in his shop*
Shadow Walker: Peter, tell me, do you mind if I give this bad boy a try right here?
*Peter shrugs his shoulders*
Peter: Go ahead, I guess …
*Shadow 2 takes a few steps back, stops, looks around him taking it all in, and continues to fire off the staple gun*
Shadow Walker: You see, what I am doing here Peter? I’m ascending, I have begun my ascension Peter. Metaphorically my mind is leaving my body, my spirit rising up to Valhalla, or whoever you believe is up there, and heading towards heavens. Or that’s what a dictionary would tell you Peter. But what I am doing here, is I am ascending, I am taking claim, laying down the gauntlet to everyone in the wrestling business, watch out, Heather Haze bleeds like a motherfucker. You see, a staple gun very similar will be in the middle of that ring at Rain In Blood, in front of a live crowd, paying human beings and home, watching their favorite superstars try and win. Haze, the silly old bitch. But their new favorite superstar, Shadow Walker…the unhappiest clown of them all, will be victorious. When I bleed her in the middle of the ring, taking the strap on top.
*Peter looks confused, as Shadow Walker now sits on the very top shelf. He takes Ramles out of his pocket, and sits him on his lap as they look out from 10ft up*
Shadow Walker: You know something Rambles, each staple down there represents a roadblock, a curveball that life threw us on the way. That bottom step? That’s childhood, that’s being beaten black and blue by whatever waste of human skin my whore mother brought home and chose to be my new ‘Daddy’. We will overcome that bottom step, like we did before, only this time with less bruises and tears and heartache, this time we will take that step with ease. That second step? That second step represents society. Society chews me up and spits me out at every opportunity like a tasteless, fatty piece of fat from a steak. Society left me chewed up on the side of the plate, and all beaten up and dejected so much that nobody else in society wanted me, just you Rambles. Well you know what, we’re going to beat the shit out of society, and that second step… That third step? Every person who ever poked fun at me, laughed behind my back, called me a freak, a weirdo, told me to go and join a circus. They think I dress and wear this make-up for fun? Jokes on them if they think that’s true. You see the other steps Peter?
*Peter nods quizzingly*
Shadow Walker: The other steps are future curveballs, future shunning from society, jokes, bullying, heartache, all types of stuff life likes to throw at you. And me and Rambles here are going to achieve them all, conquer each step and sit amongst it all like now, reigning in glory and gold, for the first time ever we will have achieved something great, something we have never done. Peter, you tell Ms. Haze when it comes to Rain In Blood …I will be the one ascending, and I will be the one with my arm raised, and it will be The Shadow ONE, life Zero! Remember, Bytches get Stitches …and we all,what you are!!
*The scene fades to black as Shadow Walker and Rambles hold up the gray steel staple gun in the crappy hardware store with Peter looking up and them with confusion on his face still*
Sammeal's Voice: Ms. Haze, do not dismiss me like you did the Lady Rose. For the military taught her, restraint ….where I grew up, in the Black Forest …I was taught to fight for survival!!
*The sounds of a deep laughter fills the air, but it quietly comes to an abrupt end*
Sammeal's Voice: While, you simply look at this as a Title defense …I see it as a Champion versus Champion Match, who truly is The Best Of The Best?!?
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