eron
New member
BB: It can’t be! I can’t believe what I am seeing!
SB: No, it can’t be true! Not in CSWA! Who ever allowed him here? This isn’t how it is all supposed to go!
(CUTTO: Eron grabbing Troy Windham around the head, tightening his arm and interlocking his fingers, before hooking his leg around Troy’s in the middle of the ring.)
BB: ROGUE DDT! ROGUE DDT!
SB: C’mon, Troy! Not tonight! Not ever! You are supposed to be the best this business has to offer!
CUTTO: Eron rolling Windham over, heavy breaths slamming through his body, hooking Windham’s right leg and once again interlocking fingers.
BB: THIS IS A TRAVESTY OF CSWA! HE HASN’T PAID HIS DUES!
SB: NOT TROY WINDHAM! KICK-OUT! KICK THE (bleep!) OUT!
CUTTO: The referee’s hand pounds the mat.
One!
Two!
…
Three!
SFX: CRUISE HORN.
BB: NO!
SB: GOD NO!
BB: NOT HIM! NOT HIM!
CUTTO: Eron slowly getting up, his body bruised and sweaty, the crowd beginning to throw garbage inside the ring. Several wrestlers, the camera panning too quick, stand by the ring in shock, unable to properly think of what to do with the sight they are seeing. The referee slides out of the ring to grab up the Greensboro Championship and the Unified Champion, before bringing it to Eron.
SB: I… I don’t feel good.
BB: Me neither. I can agree with you. Me neither.
CUTTO: Eron, taking both belts, and holding them high up in the air.
“I hope this is what you wanted, because this is what you get.”
Backstage, just moments after the impossible occurred, stood Mr. Thomas and Mr. Merritt, looking at the monitor as they seen a hot, rabit crowd turn black and red in rage. They came to see the CSWA superstars show their dominance over the rest of professional wrestling. They stayed loyal to CSWA due to the men and women who lived, breathed and bled CSWA. And now, they had a new Champion. A new Champion of their city, and a new Champion of the company they paid to see. And he wasn’t CSWA. He wasn’t even Pro Wrestling. He was all about himself. Relentlessly about himself.
“To be honest, I never expected him to get this far. I guess, you underestimate people who seem to create a black streak wherever they go. I thought he’d be good to create a little heat, but… I guess I calculated wrong.”
Frozen upon the screen, was the sight of Eron the Relentless, both titles high in the air, sweat running down his body as behind him, the CSWA audience was filing out. It was a vivid image. It was a painful image.
“I guess we can call this a swan song, huh Stephen?”
“I… I guess so.”
[FONT="][/FONT]THE IVY LEAGUE:
NO MORE.
I can’t believe what I just witnessed.
Everything I believed was right and just in this world has been flushed down the ****ing toilet, and I can’t take it.
The Suckfest? Champion of everything? Champion of MY CSWA? No. I can’t take it.
My heart wasn’t just stabbed. It was stabbed, shot, raped and pillaged. There is nothing left for me here. I try to think of the good times, I try to remember the love I used to have, but the love is gone. It will never return. Quite frankly, you can consider it to have never existed, because whenever I look back, all I feel is pain.
No more. This is the last of me in CSWA. This is the last of everything that used to be CSWA.
I wish I could give everyone hope, but hope is the denial of reality. The reality is… CSWA is dead.
Long live the monkey king.
This is Ivy… the final time.
“1!
2!
3!”
Ding Ding Ding!
“Your winner, Troy WINDHAM!”
It wasn’t a very long walk for Troy Windham. The school auditorium had the Boy’s lockers set up only a few feet from the ring, so wrestlers could enter in and out with ease. It was good, because Windham needed to sit down. A nerve in the back of his neck was causing some pain against the 20 year old student of his. Getting back to the locker, he sat down, rubbing his neck.
It wasn’t very long before someone tapped him on the shoulder. Looking up a little, he seen a glossy photo of himself and a pen attached. When his eyes focused better on the photo, that nerve pinched him harder. It was Troy Windham, circa 2006, with the CSWA Unified Championship.
“Please, don’t show me this. Don’t you have a better picture?”
The man standing with the picture happened to me a young wrestler also on the local card. It wasn’t hard to see that aside from being half asian, this wrestler was already trying to be what Troy Windham used to be, back in the late 90’s. He wanted to follow in the footsteps of not just his fathers favourite wrestler, but his own as well. A frown appeared on his face, but he was resilient to get his autograph.
“But Troy, this is you at your best. This is when I was your biggest fan.”
Leaning against the yellow locker, Troy stopped rubbing his neck enough to notice that this one autograph would probably let the kid leave him alone. Putting his hand out, he grabbed the picture and the pen, quickly scribbled his name on the photo, and handed it back. He at least wished it would be that easy.
“Troy… why did it all fall apart?
Windham cracked a small smile. They tell you your entire life that words really don’t hurt, but that truly made him feel ill. Looking up at the kid, he seen the glimmer in his eyes, the life that him, Troy Windham, that instilled into him becoming a professional wrestler. Now, working for scraps of money at a local independent as a headlining star, he looked at what was supposed to be the future of pro wrestling. What a joke. However, someone had to carry on this hopeless future.
“I guess it all fell apart, because everyone was too wrapped up in pride to see there was something to fear that night. Something to be truly afraid of. We all thought it would be like any other night. People come in, got the world and fall. All of CSWA would move like it always does, Dan Ryan would try to get back at me, Eli Flair would get his last shot before retirement, and maybe a few names stick around after the Gold Rush. Instead… like a bad dream… everything got twisted. Everything went wrong. And now, everyday, I wake up and goto bed, with a pinched nerve in my neck from when he drove my head to the canvas. I don’t think its there from the impact of the DDT, but the impact it did to my heart. He killed it all. He seems to do it everywhere he goes, he just kills everything people work for. I guess it all fell apart… because…”
A void.
A black, lifeless void.
Everything died. Everything withered away. A future thrown off the world.
All that was left in the void, was Eron the Relentless. All that was left, was that smirk. That scar. That bandanna. That Ø. Those blue eyes that watched everything fall apart in front of him. Pupils like hourglasses, watching the world fade inside of them. Slowly, his lips opened.
“This… is the future of CSWA. Don’t believe me? Think it is all a bad dream? Then I suggest… you stay in bed on August 27th.”
Just a void.
SB: No, it can’t be true! Not in CSWA! Who ever allowed him here? This isn’t how it is all supposed to go!
(CUTTO: Eron grabbing Troy Windham around the head, tightening his arm and interlocking his fingers, before hooking his leg around Troy’s in the middle of the ring.)
BB: ROGUE DDT! ROGUE DDT!
SB: C’mon, Troy! Not tonight! Not ever! You are supposed to be the best this business has to offer!
CUTTO: Eron rolling Windham over, heavy breaths slamming through his body, hooking Windham’s right leg and once again interlocking fingers.
BB: THIS IS A TRAVESTY OF CSWA! HE HASN’T PAID HIS DUES!
SB: NOT TROY WINDHAM! KICK-OUT! KICK THE (bleep!) OUT!
CUTTO: The referee’s hand pounds the mat.
One!
Two!
…
Three!
SFX: CRUISE HORN.
BB: NO!
SB: GOD NO!
BB: NOT HIM! NOT HIM!
CUTTO: Eron slowly getting up, his body bruised and sweaty, the crowd beginning to throw garbage inside the ring. Several wrestlers, the camera panning too quick, stand by the ring in shock, unable to properly think of what to do with the sight they are seeing. The referee slides out of the ring to grab up the Greensboro Championship and the Unified Champion, before bringing it to Eron.
SB: I… I don’t feel good.
BB: Me neither. I can agree with you. Me neither.
CUTTO: Eron, taking both belts, and holding them high up in the air.
While we were hunting rabbits
I came upon a clear
the sky its stars like fortune
I came upon a clear
the sky its stars like fortune
Drilled me…
“I hope this is what you wanted, because this is what you get.”
Backstage, just moments after the impossible occurred, stood Mr. Thomas and Mr. Merritt, looking at the monitor as they seen a hot, rabit crowd turn black and red in rage. They came to see the CSWA superstars show their dominance over the rest of professional wrestling. They stayed loyal to CSWA due to the men and women who lived, breathed and bled CSWA. And now, they had a new Champion. A new Champion of their city, and a new Champion of the company they paid to see. And he wasn’t CSWA. He wasn’t even Pro Wrestling. He was all about himself. Relentlessly about himself.
“To be honest, I never expected him to get this far. I guess, you underestimate people who seem to create a black streak wherever they go. I thought he’d be good to create a little heat, but… I guess I calculated wrong.”
Frozen upon the screen, was the sight of Eron the Relentless, both titles high in the air, sweat running down his body as behind him, the CSWA audience was filing out. It was a vivid image. It was a painful image.
“I guess we can call this a swan song, huh Stephen?”
“I… I guess so.”
Until now I was a soldier
Until now I dealt in fear
These years of cloak and dagger
Have left us… disappeared…
Until now I dealt in fear
These years of cloak and dagger
Have left us… disappeared…
Ivy League: No More.[FONT="][/FONT]
NO MORE.
I can’t believe what I just witnessed.
Everything I believed was right and just in this world has been flushed down the ****ing toilet, and I can’t take it.
The Suckfest? Champion of everything? Champion of MY CSWA? No. I can’t take it.
My heart wasn’t just stabbed. It was stabbed, shot, raped and pillaged. There is nothing left for me here. I try to think of the good times, I try to remember the love I used to have, but the love is gone. It will never return. Quite frankly, you can consider it to have never existed, because whenever I look back, all I feel is pain.
No more. This is the last of me in CSWA. This is the last of everything that used to be CSWA.
I wish I could give everyone hope, but hope is the denial of reality. The reality is… CSWA is dead.
Long live the monkey king.
This is Ivy… the final time.
And I dance and I sing
and I'm a monkey in a long line of Kings.
and I'm a monkey in a long line of Kings.
2!
3!”
Ding Ding Ding!
“Your winner, Troy WINDHAM!”
It wasn’t a very long walk for Troy Windham. The school auditorium had the Boy’s lockers set up only a few feet from the ring, so wrestlers could enter in and out with ease. It was good, because Windham needed to sit down. A nerve in the back of his neck was causing some pain against the 20 year old student of his. Getting back to the locker, he sat down, rubbing his neck.
It wasn’t very long before someone tapped him on the shoulder. Looking up a little, he seen a glossy photo of himself and a pen attached. When his eyes focused better on the photo, that nerve pinched him harder. It was Troy Windham, circa 2006, with the CSWA Unified Championship.
“Please, don’t show me this. Don’t you have a better picture?”
The man standing with the picture happened to me a young wrestler also on the local card. It wasn’t hard to see that aside from being half asian, this wrestler was already trying to be what Troy Windham used to be, back in the late 90’s. He wanted to follow in the footsteps of not just his fathers favourite wrestler, but his own as well. A frown appeared on his face, but he was resilient to get his autograph.
“But Troy, this is you at your best. This is when I was your biggest fan.”
Leaning against the yellow locker, Troy stopped rubbing his neck enough to notice that this one autograph would probably let the kid leave him alone. Putting his hand out, he grabbed the picture and the pen, quickly scribbled his name on the photo, and handed it back. He at least wished it would be that easy.
“Troy… why did it all fall apart?
Windham cracked a small smile. They tell you your entire life that words really don’t hurt, but that truly made him feel ill. Looking up at the kid, he seen the glimmer in his eyes, the life that him, Troy Windham, that instilled into him becoming a professional wrestler. Now, working for scraps of money at a local independent as a headlining star, he looked at what was supposed to be the future of pro wrestling. What a joke. However, someone had to carry on this hopeless future.
“I guess it all fell apart, because everyone was too wrapped up in pride to see there was something to fear that night. Something to be truly afraid of. We all thought it would be like any other night. People come in, got the world and fall. All of CSWA would move like it always does, Dan Ryan would try to get back at me, Eli Flair would get his last shot before retirement, and maybe a few names stick around after the Gold Rush. Instead… like a bad dream… everything got twisted. Everything went wrong. And now, everyday, I wake up and goto bed, with a pinched nerve in my neck from when he drove my head to the canvas. I don’t think its there from the impact of the DDT, but the impact it did to my heart. He killed it all. He seems to do it everywhere he goes, he just kills everything people work for. I guess it all fell apart… because…”
I'm just a boat on the ocean
and I'm just a ship lost at sea.
and I'm just a ship lost at sea.
A black, lifeless void.
Everything died. Everything withered away. A future thrown off the world.
All that was left in the void, was Eron the Relentless. All that was left, was that smirk. That scar. That bandanna. That Ø. Those blue eyes that watched everything fall apart in front of him. Pupils like hourglasses, watching the world fade inside of them. Slowly, his lips opened.
“This… is the future of CSWA. Don’t believe me? Think it is all a bad dream? Then I suggest… you stay in bed on August 27th.”
Just a void.