Post by Tim on Jun 16, 2013 12:45:45 GMT -5
(Since the end of WCF, I made it my number one goal to get what was rightfully mine. The one thing I deserved the most, and lets be honest for a minute, there is nobody else who deserves it more than me. I have said it once and I'll say it again, I sat there patiently waiting for my turn while everybody else got to have their fun. It was only when I came back that I decided enough was enough and it was time to take what was mine instead of sitting on my ass and twiddle my thumbs. I have had critics throughout my career saying I wouldn't make it. Some were real and then there were those who shit on me for wanting an opportunity, yet it was just one disturbed motherfucker under a number of personalities and whatnot but I digress.
The fact remains is that I have been in the position of the underdog for a large portion of my career in professional wrestling and although I have mostly shed the label due to what I do in that ring, I know in some instances I will be doubted by those who think I don't have a chance and it's fine with me. I have come to accept that. I'm not going to get all butthurt and shit when I am picked against. Predictions mean fuck all in the grand scheme of things. The only thing that truly matters is going out to that ring, busting your ass and getting the job done. For me?
I do that often.
And I will continue doing that until my career has ended. One attribute that is associated with me whether I was known as the "cheetah mask guy" with a Code of Honor, or the ruthless bastard I am today, is that I don't give up. When something is bad, I fight until I cannot go any longer. I always give one hundred ten percent in every endeavor I take part in. There's no half assing it in the world of professional wrestling. If you do such a thing, expect your ass to be out of here as fast as you got in. Seriously, I always hated those who wouldn't give it their all in that ring no matter how beat up they are. Not going to toot my own horn more than I have already, but I wrestled for damn near five months until I ultimately had no choice but to get surgery and be away from the ring for two months.
The jist of it all is to never give up and work until that bell rings. Speaking of that, I have always wanted to be like a lot of legends in the business of professional wrestling. There are those who have inspired me in my ring work and how I conduct myself. Legendary figures such as Jack of Blades, a Mace and a Allen Gulliano, no shit on the last one. They inspired me to be what I am. I studied competitors like them and I worked endlessly on getting my abilities to the highest of levels so I can be taken as seriously as I am today. In the world of life, we call that passion. Something I know I have, yet was foolishly questioned by the pretend Jose under at least three of his different personalities. I know I'm rambling about that piece of shit again and beating a dead horse. I can't help it. I'll try not to mention him again.
But luckily I have a point to this as well. That passion I have is what led me to getting the opportunities I have had in this company. That same passion helped me become the number one contender for the Television title. It's the same damn reason why I have put in the work and finally gotten my well deserved opportunity at the WCF Television Championship, and it's because of my passion and dedication towards this great sport that I will stay in the main event scene and refuse to go back down the card. They say hard work will be rewarded in kind and you know what?
It has paid off.
Which I must say is a very good feeling and it's gratifying to know that I didn't take any shortcuts to get to where I am today. I might have brutally hurt Eric Price along the way but honestly, who fucking cares about that particular piece of shit? Nobody in this company even likes the motherfucker. To me, he's like Dwight Howard, except he doesn't really produce much of anything that's good for the business, and he has like zero talent. But my point still stands, it's a satisfying feeling to know that hard work does pay off.
The world of WCF is one crazy place. We have Anarchic violence, we have murders that end in absolute chaos, we have dumbass idiots like Hank Brown providing us with his crappy interviews filled with blandness and Logan deservedly tells him to shut up and we have great in-ring action that's not seen anywhere else. We do whatever we want, whenever we want. It sounds like my type of place. Where do I fit in with all this craziness? Strangely enough, I fit in quite nicely. Everybody is all cray cray in the world of WCF and at the root of it all, we strive to be the very best in this company. As you will often hear in a lot of professions in sports...
Competition is a wonderful thing...)
(Scene one: Preparing for the Road Trip)
The scene opens up to my home in San Diego, California. It's really just another normal day in the state of California. Good looking weather, a day to do some yard work and it's still relatively early enough for every citizen of the neighborhood to get up and start off their day. For me, that's exactly what I'm doing here as I'm just now getting out of the bed after a good night's sleep. Well a better one than I have had in a while. I get up out of bed and go downstairs. Once I'm down there, I head into the kitchen and grab me a glass, pour some milk in it before grabbing some breakfast and sitting at the table
Girlfriend: Sleep well?
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah. It wasn't bad at all.>
Girlfriend: That's very good. I noticed you've had a spring in your step for the last month or so.
Cheetah Fighter: <Well when shit has unraveled and now everybody believes in you again, can you really blame me for being rejuvenated?>
Girlfriend: Not at all. And knowing what you went through and all, I'm glad to see you relieved.
Cheetah Fighter: <Me too. And not to mention, the big chance is drawing closer and closer. I can't wait.>
Girlfriend: Neither can I. This is your chance, you finally get it after so long.
Cheetah Fighter: <Obstacle after obstacle. Hurdle after hurdle. But no bullshit and no excuses going forward.>
Girlfriend: Indeed. How are you going to prepare for it?
That question is one I have thought of many many times now. I always trained for every match the same way. Stick to a certain work out plan. But this... this is a little different. I know my opponent well enough, but the stakes are higher than ever. A situation unlike anything else. Yes, I have been a challenger for a championship on numerous occasions, but this is the Television title. Not big, but still a deal in our industry and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling any pressure. I don't show it but I know it's there.
Cheetah Fighter: <A little different but at the same time, I'm going to just do what I have to do and see if it's enough.>
Girlfriend: Sound plan there. Stick to what you know and if you see any openings, go for it.
Cheetah Fighter: <I will. I've been studying the tapes and gather as much information as I can to be successful.>
Girlfriend: Yeah and I know you want to be successful here.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn right I do. Five months all leading to this very moment. Excited doesn't even cover it.>
Girlfriend: I know and we know it's a big deal. I believe in you, always have.
<Cheetah Fighter>: Thanks. I know you're one of my biggest supporter. You and the others.>
Girlfriend: Exactly. Although as we all know, skills matter too.
Cheetah Fighter: <Definitely. And I have plenty of that.>
Girlfriend (smirking): You sure do.
Cheetah Fighter: <Hehe. Indeed baby. Indeed.>
Girlfriend: So, since our day's are just beginning. What is it that's planned for the day?
Cheetah Fighter: <Well, we...>
Just as I was about to speak, I hear the door bell ring.
Cheetah Fighter: <I wonder who that could be?>
I walk towards the door and open it and, speak of the devil, there's my friends standing at the doorstep. Funny, considering I was about to tell my girlfriend that they were coming over, just didn't think it was going to be now. I hug and high five them before letting them in the house where they also greet her before sitting on the couches.
Cheetah Fighter: <Glad you guys are here. What's up?>
Goth guy: You know, same old same old. We're all preparing for the big event coming up. Excited is the word I'm looking for here.
Joker: He's more than excited.
Cheetah Fighter: <Haha. And who can blame him? I would be too knowing you're getting another chance at a huge poetry competition.>
Goth guy: Indeed and I'm going to kick Jerry's ass with words.
Cheetah Fighter: <I know you will. You are the next Lord Byron. Jerry can't beat you in the front and his assistant can't interfere either.>
Joker: And we are going to be front row of Slam.
Cheetah Fighter: <Hehe. You're damn right. The first Slam of the month is going to be an eventful night for us all.>
Shopaholic: Speaking of that. How are we going to get there... transportation wise?
Cheetah Fighter: <Hmm. Times like this, I'm glad I bought that new Dodge Caravan we have in the driveway.>
Girlfriend: We use it for groceries and to take around the kids.
Cheetah Fighter: <We could always use it to get all of you to travel with us while making it much cheaper.>
They all look at each other and then back at Cheetah Fighter.
Jerk: Can we all fit inside that thing? Because no offense to anybody in this room, but there's A LOT of humanity within our group.
Party Girl: For once, he makes a point.
Cheetah Fighter: <It's a mini-van. There's a ton of room. Here's how I see it, me and my girlfriend in the front, then goth dude, jackass and shopping addict here in the first back seat.>
Goth boy, jerk and shopaholic celebrate being seated together.
Cheetah Fighter: <Then it's the prankster, party addict, camwhore and lady PMS here sitting together.>
The four of them nod their heads and bump knuckles.
Cheetah Fighter: <And of course in the very back, you have the skater boy and drunkard together.>
Shopaholic: I have another question if you don't mind.
Cheetah Fighter: <Go right on ahead.>
Shopaholic: Do you recommend over-packing or not packing enough?
This is something I can't really speak too much about as I am a very fashionable dude, despite wrestling. I like to pack a lot of clothes and that's double for shoes as I love shoes. Can't get enough of them in all honesty. I'm not to the point where I hoard that stuff and buy them constantly, but I do love the hell out of them a lot. After all, I did come from the modelling world before and I did break the motherfucking stigma that most of the talentless individuals from the modelling world put on bodybuilders in wrestling. It's disgusting. I look at Miss Prada, then up at the ceiling again before looking back at her and giving my thoughts.
Cheetah Fighter: <I say do what's best. If you pack more than you need, you're going to carry around more crap than you want to do. If you pack less, then you may run out of clothes before the trip ends. Pack whatever clothes you need for the amount of days you'll be gone and there you go. Problem solved.>
Shopaholic: Well I won't pack any high heels or anything so there's that.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah. And word of advice ladies. Never and I mean NEVER wear stiletto's at a wedding, especially one where you know you're going to have to kick somebody's ass. My feet still hurt like hell from that.>
Miss Polarity: Thank god I wore flats. I can't walk in stiletto's to begin with, but flats are far more comfortable.
Girlfriend: I love stiletto's but I can see why there are those who are not that keen on them. Depends on the situation really.
Shopaholic: Like a casual date. I'd wear stiletto's, but for weddings and something similar... I'm with her on wearing flats.
Jerk: Wait, you'd wear the fancy heels and the dress if say we went on a date?
Shopaholic: Of course.
Jerk: Hehe, I should feel pretty fucking special.
Girlfriend: When you're with a woman, you should feel pretty fucking special.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn straight. And if you're good to your woman, you may get extras. Maybe though.>
Girlfriend: He's right. A little advice for you all, especially for the young ones here. You have to put in some work to make the relationship strong. It's a two way street.
Cheetah Fighter: <And most of all, give your partner some breathing room every now and then. Most can use the little break to get their shit together and all.>
Girlfriend: Very true baby. I give you your room every now and then just like you do for me.
Cheetah Fighter: <Indeed. And the rest of you who are with other people, you guys should do the same. Can't always be up in each others space all the time. Call and text each other is fine, but there has to be a happy medium between that, just like with seeing a person you're not living with.>
Joker: So give space in other words and not be so... overbearing?
Girlfriend: Correct. And having a longer wait only builds the want to see each other.
Cheetah Fighter: She's right. When it comes to her and I... I just want to see her all the time, and look at that ass.
Girlfriend: Boy, stop it. Although to be fair, I share the same towards you. Point still stands though.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah.>
Jerk: Man fuck the love. I'm hungry. What is there to eat?
Party Girl: When are you never hungry?
Jerk: I can eat. It's just me. I want some motherfucking food.
Cheetah Fighter: <There is still breakfast in there you guys can eat if you'd like.>
Jerk: Thanks, dude.
The asshole gets up off the couch and rushes into the kitchen as fast as he could.
Joker: That motherfucker just... he likes his food.
Cheetah Fighter: <Some people like to eat. The rest of you are welcome to eat too, if you want to get some before douchebag eats it all.>
Everyone all hop off the couch and go into the kitchen, except the Marilyn Manson clone, who shrugs his shoulders and goes into the kitchen as well.
Cheetah Fighter: <Kids and their food.>
Girlfriend: Yeah. Thank god we made a lot.
Cheetah Fighter: <Indeed.>
We both watch the rest of our friends eat the rest of the breakfast food as the scene fades out.
(Scene two: Making sure I'm good to go and bailing my friends out of jail)
Days later, we are in Rio Rancho, New Mexico inside of the B&B Chiropractic PC. In a little office, I am sitting on a bed waiting to see if I have any injuries. With the title match coming up against John Gable, I don't want to have to end up taking any time off and in turn letting this opportunity pass by the wayside. I don't need to explain too much how much this means to me because it does, it means a lot. A short time later, a doctor comes into the room and speaks.
Doctor: Cheetah, right?
Cheetah Fighter: <No shit, sherlock.>
Doctor: Okay. Now what are you in here for today?
Cheetah Fighter: <Well I have a big match coming up at a show called Slam and the WCF Television Championship is at stake. I want to make absolutely sure that there are no injuries with me whatsoever.>
Doctor: Do you have a history of injuries?
Cheetah Fighter: <I do. The last injury I had was a torn meniscus and I worked on that injury for almost five months until being put out of action at the start of 2012.>
Doctor: I see. What are you wanting to get checked out?
Cheetah Fighter: <My knee, since that is where the recent injury was and I had an ankle injury almost four years ago but you can never be too careful... oh and my neck too since nearly three years ago, I almost had my career ended due to a horrific neck injury.>
Doctor: Rising Sun Puroresu, right?
Cheetah Fighter: <That's right. As I said, I want to make sure there's no injuries. This is the most important chapter of my career. I want that World title and I'll be damned if injuries prevent me from achieving my goal.>
Doctor: Alright. Now stretch out the leg and we'll test it.
I stretch out my leg and the doctor taps lightly on my knee to see if it hurts. He shifts over to my left ankle which I injured very early in my career back in the Rising Sun Puroresu promotion, goddamn I feel old as that was so long ago, despite me being the youngest.
Doctor: Does either of them hurt?
Cheetah Fighter: <Not at all.>
Doctor: Okay. Now turn over on your stomach so we can figure out your neck prognosis.
I turn over to my stomach with no problem and the doctor begins to touch my neck lightly to see if there is any pain.
Doctor: Anything at all?
Cheetah Fighter: <Thankfully no. It's not hurting.>
Doctor: Okay. That's good. So all in all, you're good to go for that big wrestling pay-per-view.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah. Thank you for taking me in on a short notice.>
Doctor: You're welcome and good luck.
I get off the bench and I shake the doctor's hand before I grab my gym bag and walk out of the medical room. From there, I walk out of the building itself and go to my car. I open up, get inside and close the door. Once I buckle myself up, I start up the car and drive on out of there and the scene fades out. A couple of hours later it comes back up and I am laying on the bed in my hotel room staring up at the ceiling. I'm thinking about the title match itself as I cannot help but think how big it is and how I am going to come into this match against somebody of Gable's caliber. It's coming closer and I am only getting more anticipated for that very moment. Suddenly, I hear a knock on the door.
Cheetah Fighter: <Oh shit. I forgot all about that.>
I get up off the bed and go to the door. I open it up and it's room service with a steak dinner with a baked potato and a salad on the side, a chocolate cake and a two liter bottle of coca cola.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn. This is awesome. Let me give you something.>
I go to my wallet and get out a fifty dollar bill. I come back and hand it to the room service personnel person. I grab all the food and place it on the table before giving the cart back to the man who goes on about his business and walks away. I close the door and go to the table and I am astonished at what I have received. I take a seat and begin to eat what is my dinner for the night. Who would have ever imagined food service tasting good? Wait, it does. As I am eating, my phone rings and I look at it before answering.
Cheetah Fighter: <Hello!>
Girlfriend: <Cheetah!>
Cheetah Fighter: <Baby. What's up?>
Girlfriend: We may have a problem here.
Cheetah Fighter: <Do I want to know what happened?>
Girlfriend: If you don't want to know about shithead and beer belly getting arrested... then no!
Cheetah Fighter: <Shit... what happened exactly?>
Girlfriend: We went to a wrestling show because hey, we want to see how it's like here.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah.>
Girlfriend: Long story short. There were a few fans who were heckling and insulting us, me and jerk-off in particular. Real-life Homer took offense and popped off at them. He and the jerk got shoved and they went and fought with those fans.
Cheetah Fighter: <Did anybody get hurt?>
Girlfriend: Both of them have a few cuts on them, but they're the ones that are fine. The ones heckling us? Yeah... two of them didn't end up okay.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn. How much is their bail?>
Girlfriend: For each? Five hundred dollars.
Cheetah Fighter: <I'll get the money and get them out. I'm not going to blame them though because from the way you say it, they were defending themselves.>
Girlfriend: Yeah. When will you be here?
Cheetah Fighter: <When I'm done with dinner. I just woke up from a nap, called room service and they gave me dinner.>
Girlfriend: Okay, I will be waiting right outside the police station when you come.
Cheetah Fighter: <Sounds good. See you then, hun.>
The phone call ends and I shake my head knowing all that chaos translates out of the ring although I cannot say I blame the two idiots for taking the fight to them. I go back to eating and then I have to get the hell out of here and bail them out of jail. I eat everything on my plate, including the dessert. Don't judge. This is a cheat day. I will work all of this off. I put my phone in my purse before picking it up and leaving the room.
At about forty five minutes later, I have arrived at the police station. It's the basic place that contains all they truly need. No state of the art type of stuff. I find my girlfriend sitting on the outside jamming out with headphones in her ears. I tap on her shoulder and she springs up to her feet, almost like she was startled or something.
Cheetah Fighter: <A little jumpy today?>
Girlfriend: Sorry.
Cheetah Fighter: <It's fine. Where are they?>
Girlfriend: Follow me. Do you have the money?
I pat my stomach as I follow her inside of the police station. We step inside and we go to the front desk where an officer who looks like he hasn't missed a meal in years is sitting there and not surprisingly, he's stuffing his face with donuts. How ironic.
Officer: What do you want?
Cheetah Fighter: <I'm here to bail these two out of jail.>
I take out photos of the two nitwits.
Officer: Do you have the money?
I take out the envelope full of money out of my jacket and hand it to the officer. The officer opens it up and counts the money to make sure it's all there, even though I already counted the thing before I left the hotel. He finishes counting and looks back up.
Officer: They will be right out.
Cheetah Fighter: <Thank you.>
The officer gets up off his ass and goes to get them out. He walks like a damn penguin for Christ sake. My girlfriend and I cannot help but chuckle underneath our breaths at the way that cop walks.
Girlfriend: I wonder if he eats raw fish? I mean, that is what penguins eat.
Cheetah Fighter: <I don't think they serve sushi here.>
Girlfriend: Well whatever, he looks like a goddamn whale.
I nod. Not long later, those two arrive. My girlfriend runs up and hugs and kisses beer breath on the cheek while jerkface and I look on before the four of us walk out of the police station and to the car where we get inside. We all buckle up and before I can start up the car, the alcoholic begins to speak.
Drunk: Free at last. Free at FUCKING LAST!
Cheetah Fighter: <What exactly went on with you three?>
Drunk: I am assuming she told you the short story?
I nod slowly.
Drunk: Well I was being called the N word and the fans were calling her a spic. They even called her a whore which majorly pissed him off.
Joker: They're lucky I didn't fucking stab them... if I had a goddamn weapon.
Drunk: Oh yeah. Anyways, he traded insults back and forth with them. He said something they didn't like and we got shoved and then it was on. I broke one of their jaw's and I cannot remember if it was the other guy I was fighting or the one he beat the hell out of, but I know one of them was beat into unconsciousness.
Cheetah Fighter: <Holy shit! That's... that's insane.>
Joker: And the show was shit to boot.
Cheetah Fighter: <Like HWF shit, WCW shit, Truly Horrible shit... or worse?>
Joker: Worse.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn. Glad I didn't go then.>
Drunk: Be very thankful. Last time I'm going to one of those here.
Joker: Same.
Girlfriend: Yeah.
Cheetah Fighter: <I think you guys have had enough of this crap for the day. Let's get the hell out of here.>
I start up the car, put it in reverse and back out. Once I press the break, I put it in drive and we drive away from the police station as the scene fades out.
The End
In the art of battle, you win some and you lose some. Not every battle is going to be a win in this profession. The most important thing is the end result of a war. Yes, this past Rapture was in the loss column, but don't think we didn't make an impact because we did such a thing. Eric Price learned the hard way how much one will pay for fucking with me to the point where we will snap and beat the holy hell out of those in our way, and Brad Kane knows how far I am willing to go to make an impact. I'm a reasonable man with a short temper. If somebody like a Price, Kane or Jonny Fly dares to fuck with me. I make no bones about it.
They will be obliterated.
Now that we have gotten that out of the way. I'm not going to sit here and bullshit everybody when I say this because I want to be as truthful as I can, but I want the world, goddammit. The world. Hell, I want a lot of things, but the WCF Television Championship is at the very top of that list. It has been that way since this company started. If you're not in this business to be at the top, why the fuck would you even be here to begin with? There are a numerous amount of memorable people who have been in my position before. WCF's first true great Television Champion Biohazard was in this position despite his retardation, then after him was CyRax. From there, Creeping Death, PC Cradle and Madd Dogg made that title more prestigious. And it grew from there when one of the greats, Dake Ken, won it. We even witnessed Jack of Blades become a Television Champion right here in WCF.
It's moments like that with those who held the holy grail of this company, that makes this business all the more special and I damn sure want one of those moments. Yes I have held championships throughout my career. My history with the WCF is evident enough and I am proud as all hell of the months I've stayed here, but having that special moment of winning the WCF Television Championship would just be icing on the cake for me and it would add to a very stellar career I have had in this industry up to this point. I stated earlier that I wanted the fucking world.
My opportunity is right here.
And the man in my path to achieve said opportunity, is the man holding all the cards. I'm actually fairly familiar with John Gab;e, despite him rescuing me from Eric Price and his peons. Whether it's from that shitty ass stable called Rebellion, and all the way to the here and now. Few months of total destruction on our separate ways and really, he's been billed as such since the very get-go, winning the Tel... actually, you cannot call the EPPW belt a "Television Championship", that's a fucking disgrace to all meaningful undercard Championships. But anyways, he won their stepping stone title in a month's time and despite being a rookie, he was really the cream of the crop in WCF. Some may debate whether or not he was a quick learner, or the rest of the roster itself being that goddamn horrendous, but the facts are still there. He dominated that ring with ease.
Fast forward to when he won the title. Now for those who don't know your WCF, WCF has always been competitive and unlike most rosters, we don't have a shitty fucking roster and we certainly consist of actual people, but nonetheless Gable has been relatively dominant here, proving that he is indeed one of the most underrated wrestlers in the world. He has slayed the likes of Pantheon among others before winning the title.
Why am I stating all of this? Because research is key. It's something I know a lot of people in this company do not bother doing, and I like to know what I am getting myself into. When I face an obstacle, I like to go at it with full force. Do I think this is going to be an easy contest? Hell no, and I wouldn't have it any other way. On the surface, ever since winning the contendership spot, Gable's cockiness has only increased. He began the bullshit of playing cutesy little games and has gone back to business. It seems ever since I pointed out that he lost an edge of sorts, he's only upped his game and personally, I'm happy to see that because the wrestling business isn't one for the faint of heart. It's not one for weak individuals. The phrase "the strong survives" is evident enough.
Back to the subject at hand. Gable, I know you're a challenge, only an idiot would say otherwise and I know what type of brutality you're capable of dishing out. I have watched from afar, I have watched everything and I'm sure you can say the same about me. You have said I am the biggest threat to your title reign a few times. Not to toot my own horn or boost my own ego, but that's a very accurate statement and one I completely agree with. The way I see it, we are two different individuals who fight for different causes, me helping fight for the good of WCF to dethrone the idiot Eric Price, while you remind the people that you are who you are while destroying any motherfucker in your path... but at the same time, we are similar in the course of dominating anybody who is place in our paths and in a strange way, we both enjoy seeing others suffer in the anguish of severe pain and punishment. At least I have started to grow accustomed towards enjoying it. The pain and misery that Eric Price was put through is a prime example of such, even though Eric is by nature, a weak piece of shit of a man who got what he deserved.
As has been obvious for quite sometime, even before I took a couple of months off to heal my injuries after working for several independent promotions. This match up between us is something we both wanted, whether a championship was at stake or not, and it was one that would happen eventually. We never got the chance in ADM and knowing the damage that you took against Morientes, I'm sure that's a moment that's motivated you for this match and has remained in the back of your mind ever since I laid a mark on you while you were looking up at the stars. I will go on record to say that doing that was nothing personal, at least for me it wasn't. It was all business, and just like our match up tonight.
It's all business.
But the key thing here is that the title is on the line. The match by itself is a motivator, but I'm extra motivated towards getting the job done. I'm not going to sit here and make vague guarantees like they mean something because that could just as easily blow up in my face and make me look like a complete and total jackass. I might be an outspoken individual with a temper that's short and a mind of destruction, but here... well the mind of destruction will stay in-tact. I plan on doing everything I physically can do and achieve my number one goal. John Gable, you have had a nice run with the WCF Television Championship and you can surely say you can hold the biggest prize in the business, but will it last much longer? Not sure, but you better believe I will try and bring it home to me. Cheetah Fighter being the new WCF Television Champion? I like the sound of that very very much. It has a nice ring to it.
Tonight, Gable. I'll be leaving EPPW with the title in my hands. Tonight until it happens. Until then...
Welcome to my hell.
See you at Slam, John.
The fact remains is that I have been in the position of the underdog for a large portion of my career in professional wrestling and although I have mostly shed the label due to what I do in that ring, I know in some instances I will be doubted by those who think I don't have a chance and it's fine with me. I have come to accept that. I'm not going to get all butthurt and shit when I am picked against. Predictions mean fuck all in the grand scheme of things. The only thing that truly matters is going out to that ring, busting your ass and getting the job done. For me?
I do that often.
And I will continue doing that until my career has ended. One attribute that is associated with me whether I was known as the "cheetah mask guy" with a Code of Honor, or the ruthless bastard I am today, is that I don't give up. When something is bad, I fight until I cannot go any longer. I always give one hundred ten percent in every endeavor I take part in. There's no half assing it in the world of professional wrestling. If you do such a thing, expect your ass to be out of here as fast as you got in. Seriously, I always hated those who wouldn't give it their all in that ring no matter how beat up they are. Not going to toot my own horn more than I have already, but I wrestled for damn near five months until I ultimately had no choice but to get surgery and be away from the ring for two months.
The jist of it all is to never give up and work until that bell rings. Speaking of that, I have always wanted to be like a lot of legends in the business of professional wrestling. There are those who have inspired me in my ring work and how I conduct myself. Legendary figures such as Jack of Blades, a Mace and a Allen Gulliano, no shit on the last one. They inspired me to be what I am. I studied competitors like them and I worked endlessly on getting my abilities to the highest of levels so I can be taken as seriously as I am today. In the world of life, we call that passion. Something I know I have, yet was foolishly questioned by the pretend Jose under at least three of his different personalities. I know I'm rambling about that piece of shit again and beating a dead horse. I can't help it. I'll try not to mention him again.
But luckily I have a point to this as well. That passion I have is what led me to getting the opportunities I have had in this company. That same passion helped me become the number one contender for the Television title. It's the same damn reason why I have put in the work and finally gotten my well deserved opportunity at the WCF Television Championship, and it's because of my passion and dedication towards this great sport that I will stay in the main event scene and refuse to go back down the card. They say hard work will be rewarded in kind and you know what?
It has paid off.
Which I must say is a very good feeling and it's gratifying to know that I didn't take any shortcuts to get to where I am today. I might have brutally hurt Eric Price along the way but honestly, who fucking cares about that particular piece of shit? Nobody in this company even likes the motherfucker. To me, he's like Dwight Howard, except he doesn't really produce much of anything that's good for the business, and he has like zero talent. But my point still stands, it's a satisfying feeling to know that hard work does pay off.
The world of WCF is one crazy place. We have Anarchic violence, we have murders that end in absolute chaos, we have dumbass idiots like Hank Brown providing us with his crappy interviews filled with blandness and Logan deservedly tells him to shut up and we have great in-ring action that's not seen anywhere else. We do whatever we want, whenever we want. It sounds like my type of place. Where do I fit in with all this craziness? Strangely enough, I fit in quite nicely. Everybody is all cray cray in the world of WCF and at the root of it all, we strive to be the very best in this company. As you will often hear in a lot of professions in sports...
Competition is a wonderful thing...)
(Scene one: Preparing for the Road Trip)
The scene opens up to my home in San Diego, California. It's really just another normal day in the state of California. Good looking weather, a day to do some yard work and it's still relatively early enough for every citizen of the neighborhood to get up and start off their day. For me, that's exactly what I'm doing here as I'm just now getting out of the bed after a good night's sleep. Well a better one than I have had in a while. I get up out of bed and go downstairs. Once I'm down there, I head into the kitchen and grab me a glass, pour some milk in it before grabbing some breakfast and sitting at the table
Girlfriend: Sleep well?
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah. It wasn't bad at all.>
Girlfriend: That's very good. I noticed you've had a spring in your step for the last month or so.
Cheetah Fighter: <Well when shit has unraveled and now everybody believes in you again, can you really blame me for being rejuvenated?>
Girlfriend: Not at all. And knowing what you went through and all, I'm glad to see you relieved.
Cheetah Fighter: <Me too. And not to mention, the big chance is drawing closer and closer. I can't wait.>
Girlfriend: Neither can I. This is your chance, you finally get it after so long.
Cheetah Fighter: <Obstacle after obstacle. Hurdle after hurdle. But no bullshit and no excuses going forward.>
Girlfriend: Indeed. How are you going to prepare for it?
That question is one I have thought of many many times now. I always trained for every match the same way. Stick to a certain work out plan. But this... this is a little different. I know my opponent well enough, but the stakes are higher than ever. A situation unlike anything else. Yes, I have been a challenger for a championship on numerous occasions, but this is the Television title. Not big, but still a deal in our industry and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling any pressure. I don't show it but I know it's there.
Cheetah Fighter: <A little different but at the same time, I'm going to just do what I have to do and see if it's enough.>
Girlfriend: Sound plan there. Stick to what you know and if you see any openings, go for it.
Cheetah Fighter: <I will. I've been studying the tapes and gather as much information as I can to be successful.>
Girlfriend: Yeah and I know you want to be successful here.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn right I do. Five months all leading to this very moment. Excited doesn't even cover it.>
Girlfriend: I know and we know it's a big deal. I believe in you, always have.
<Cheetah Fighter>: Thanks. I know you're one of my biggest supporter. You and the others.>
Girlfriend: Exactly. Although as we all know, skills matter too.
Cheetah Fighter: <Definitely. And I have plenty of that.>
Girlfriend (smirking): You sure do.
Cheetah Fighter: <Hehe. Indeed baby. Indeed.>
Girlfriend: So, since our day's are just beginning. What is it that's planned for the day?
Cheetah Fighter: <Well, we...>
Just as I was about to speak, I hear the door bell ring.
Cheetah Fighter: <I wonder who that could be?>
I walk towards the door and open it and, speak of the devil, there's my friends standing at the doorstep. Funny, considering I was about to tell my girlfriend that they were coming over, just didn't think it was going to be now. I hug and high five them before letting them in the house where they also greet her before sitting on the couches.
Cheetah Fighter: <Glad you guys are here. What's up?>
Goth guy: You know, same old same old. We're all preparing for the big event coming up. Excited is the word I'm looking for here.
Joker: He's more than excited.
Cheetah Fighter: <Haha. And who can blame him? I would be too knowing you're getting another chance at a huge poetry competition.>
Goth guy: Indeed and I'm going to kick Jerry's ass with words.
Cheetah Fighter: <I know you will. You are the next Lord Byron. Jerry can't beat you in the front and his assistant can't interfere either.>
Joker: And we are going to be front row of Slam.
Cheetah Fighter: <Hehe. You're damn right. The first Slam of the month is going to be an eventful night for us all.>
Shopaholic: Speaking of that. How are we going to get there... transportation wise?
Cheetah Fighter: <Hmm. Times like this, I'm glad I bought that new Dodge Caravan we have in the driveway.>
Girlfriend: We use it for groceries and to take around the kids.
Cheetah Fighter: <We could always use it to get all of you to travel with us while making it much cheaper.>
They all look at each other and then back at Cheetah Fighter.
Jerk: Can we all fit inside that thing? Because no offense to anybody in this room, but there's A LOT of humanity within our group.
Party Girl: For once, he makes a point.
Cheetah Fighter: <It's a mini-van. There's a ton of room. Here's how I see it, me and my girlfriend in the front, then goth dude, jackass and shopping addict here in the first back seat.>
Goth boy, jerk and shopaholic celebrate being seated together.
Cheetah Fighter: <Then it's the prankster, party addict, camwhore and lady PMS here sitting together.>
The four of them nod their heads and bump knuckles.
Cheetah Fighter: <And of course in the very back, you have the skater boy and drunkard together.>
Shopaholic: I have another question if you don't mind.
Cheetah Fighter: <Go right on ahead.>
Shopaholic: Do you recommend over-packing or not packing enough?
This is something I can't really speak too much about as I am a very fashionable dude, despite wrestling. I like to pack a lot of clothes and that's double for shoes as I love shoes. Can't get enough of them in all honesty. I'm not to the point where I hoard that stuff and buy them constantly, but I do love the hell out of them a lot. After all, I did come from the modelling world before and I did break the motherfucking stigma that most of the talentless individuals from the modelling world put on bodybuilders in wrestling. It's disgusting. I look at Miss Prada, then up at the ceiling again before looking back at her and giving my thoughts.
Cheetah Fighter: <I say do what's best. If you pack more than you need, you're going to carry around more crap than you want to do. If you pack less, then you may run out of clothes before the trip ends. Pack whatever clothes you need for the amount of days you'll be gone and there you go. Problem solved.>
Shopaholic: Well I won't pack any high heels or anything so there's that.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah. And word of advice ladies. Never and I mean NEVER wear stiletto's at a wedding, especially one where you know you're going to have to kick somebody's ass. My feet still hurt like hell from that.>
Miss Polarity: Thank god I wore flats. I can't walk in stiletto's to begin with, but flats are far more comfortable.
Girlfriend: I love stiletto's but I can see why there are those who are not that keen on them. Depends on the situation really.
Shopaholic: Like a casual date. I'd wear stiletto's, but for weddings and something similar... I'm with her on wearing flats.
Jerk: Wait, you'd wear the fancy heels and the dress if say we went on a date?
Shopaholic: Of course.
Jerk: Hehe, I should feel pretty fucking special.
Girlfriend: When you're with a woman, you should feel pretty fucking special.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn straight. And if you're good to your woman, you may get extras. Maybe though.>
Girlfriend: He's right. A little advice for you all, especially for the young ones here. You have to put in some work to make the relationship strong. It's a two way street.
Cheetah Fighter: <And most of all, give your partner some breathing room every now and then. Most can use the little break to get their shit together and all.>
Girlfriend: Very true baby. I give you your room every now and then just like you do for me.
Cheetah Fighter: <Indeed. And the rest of you who are with other people, you guys should do the same. Can't always be up in each others space all the time. Call and text each other is fine, but there has to be a happy medium between that, just like with seeing a person you're not living with.>
Joker: So give space in other words and not be so... overbearing?
Girlfriend: Correct. And having a longer wait only builds the want to see each other.
Cheetah Fighter: She's right. When it comes to her and I... I just want to see her all the time, and look at that ass.
Girlfriend: Boy, stop it. Although to be fair, I share the same towards you. Point still stands though.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah.>
Jerk: Man fuck the love. I'm hungry. What is there to eat?
Party Girl: When are you never hungry?
Jerk: I can eat. It's just me. I want some motherfucking food.
Cheetah Fighter: <There is still breakfast in there you guys can eat if you'd like.>
Jerk: Thanks, dude.
The asshole gets up off the couch and rushes into the kitchen as fast as he could.
Joker: That motherfucker just... he likes his food.
Cheetah Fighter: <Some people like to eat. The rest of you are welcome to eat too, if you want to get some before douchebag eats it all.>
Everyone all hop off the couch and go into the kitchen, except the Marilyn Manson clone, who shrugs his shoulders and goes into the kitchen as well.
Cheetah Fighter: <Kids and their food.>
Girlfriend: Yeah. Thank god we made a lot.
Cheetah Fighter: <Indeed.>
We both watch the rest of our friends eat the rest of the breakfast food as the scene fades out.
(Scene two: Making sure I'm good to go and bailing my friends out of jail)
Days later, we are in Rio Rancho, New Mexico inside of the B&B Chiropractic PC. In a little office, I am sitting on a bed waiting to see if I have any injuries. With the title match coming up against John Gable, I don't want to have to end up taking any time off and in turn letting this opportunity pass by the wayside. I don't need to explain too much how much this means to me because it does, it means a lot. A short time later, a doctor comes into the room and speaks.
Doctor: Cheetah, right?
Cheetah Fighter: <No shit, sherlock.>
Doctor: Okay. Now what are you in here for today?
Cheetah Fighter: <Well I have a big match coming up at a show called Slam and the WCF Television Championship is at stake. I want to make absolutely sure that there are no injuries with me whatsoever.>
Doctor: Do you have a history of injuries?
Cheetah Fighter: <I do. The last injury I had was a torn meniscus and I worked on that injury for almost five months until being put out of action at the start of 2012.>
Doctor: I see. What are you wanting to get checked out?
Cheetah Fighter: <My knee, since that is where the recent injury was and I had an ankle injury almost four years ago but you can never be too careful... oh and my neck too since nearly three years ago, I almost had my career ended due to a horrific neck injury.>
Doctor: Rising Sun Puroresu, right?
Cheetah Fighter: <That's right. As I said, I want to make sure there's no injuries. This is the most important chapter of my career. I want that World title and I'll be damned if injuries prevent me from achieving my goal.>
Doctor: Alright. Now stretch out the leg and we'll test it.
I stretch out my leg and the doctor taps lightly on my knee to see if it hurts. He shifts over to my left ankle which I injured very early in my career back in the Rising Sun Puroresu promotion, goddamn I feel old as that was so long ago, despite me being the youngest.
Doctor: Does either of them hurt?
Cheetah Fighter: <Not at all.>
Doctor: Okay. Now turn over on your stomach so we can figure out your neck prognosis.
I turn over to my stomach with no problem and the doctor begins to touch my neck lightly to see if there is any pain.
Doctor: Anything at all?
Cheetah Fighter: <Thankfully no. It's not hurting.>
Doctor: Okay. That's good. So all in all, you're good to go for that big wrestling pay-per-view.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah. Thank you for taking me in on a short notice.>
Doctor: You're welcome and good luck.
I get off the bench and I shake the doctor's hand before I grab my gym bag and walk out of the medical room. From there, I walk out of the building itself and go to my car. I open up, get inside and close the door. Once I buckle myself up, I start up the car and drive on out of there and the scene fades out. A couple of hours later it comes back up and I am laying on the bed in my hotel room staring up at the ceiling. I'm thinking about the title match itself as I cannot help but think how big it is and how I am going to come into this match against somebody of Gable's caliber. It's coming closer and I am only getting more anticipated for that very moment. Suddenly, I hear a knock on the door.
Cheetah Fighter: <Oh shit. I forgot all about that.>
I get up off the bed and go to the door. I open it up and it's room service with a steak dinner with a baked potato and a salad on the side, a chocolate cake and a two liter bottle of coca cola.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn. This is awesome. Let me give you something.>
I go to my wallet and get out a fifty dollar bill. I come back and hand it to the room service personnel person. I grab all the food and place it on the table before giving the cart back to the man who goes on about his business and walks away. I close the door and go to the table and I am astonished at what I have received. I take a seat and begin to eat what is my dinner for the night. Who would have ever imagined food service tasting good? Wait, it does. As I am eating, my phone rings and I look at it before answering.
Cheetah Fighter: <Hello!>
Girlfriend: <Cheetah!>
Cheetah Fighter: <Baby. What's up?>
Girlfriend: We may have a problem here.
Cheetah Fighter: <Do I want to know what happened?>
Girlfriend: If you don't want to know about shithead and beer belly getting arrested... then no!
Cheetah Fighter: <Shit... what happened exactly?>
Girlfriend: We went to a wrestling show because hey, we want to see how it's like here.
Cheetah Fighter: <Yeah.>
Girlfriend: Long story short. There were a few fans who were heckling and insulting us, me and jerk-off in particular. Real-life Homer took offense and popped off at them. He and the jerk got shoved and they went and fought with those fans.
Cheetah Fighter: <Did anybody get hurt?>
Girlfriend: Both of them have a few cuts on them, but they're the ones that are fine. The ones heckling us? Yeah... two of them didn't end up okay.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn. How much is their bail?>
Girlfriend: For each? Five hundred dollars.
Cheetah Fighter: <I'll get the money and get them out. I'm not going to blame them though because from the way you say it, they were defending themselves.>
Girlfriend: Yeah. When will you be here?
Cheetah Fighter: <When I'm done with dinner. I just woke up from a nap, called room service and they gave me dinner.>
Girlfriend: Okay, I will be waiting right outside the police station when you come.
Cheetah Fighter: <Sounds good. See you then, hun.>
The phone call ends and I shake my head knowing all that chaos translates out of the ring although I cannot say I blame the two idiots for taking the fight to them. I go back to eating and then I have to get the hell out of here and bail them out of jail. I eat everything on my plate, including the dessert. Don't judge. This is a cheat day. I will work all of this off. I put my phone in my purse before picking it up and leaving the room.
At about forty five minutes later, I have arrived at the police station. It's the basic place that contains all they truly need. No state of the art type of stuff. I find my girlfriend sitting on the outside jamming out with headphones in her ears. I tap on her shoulder and she springs up to her feet, almost like she was startled or something.
Cheetah Fighter: <A little jumpy today?>
Girlfriend: Sorry.
Cheetah Fighter: <It's fine. Where are they?>
Girlfriend: Follow me. Do you have the money?
I pat my stomach as I follow her inside of the police station. We step inside and we go to the front desk where an officer who looks like he hasn't missed a meal in years is sitting there and not surprisingly, he's stuffing his face with donuts. How ironic.
Officer: What do you want?
Cheetah Fighter: <I'm here to bail these two out of jail.>
I take out photos of the two nitwits.
Officer: Do you have the money?
I take out the envelope full of money out of my jacket and hand it to the officer. The officer opens it up and counts the money to make sure it's all there, even though I already counted the thing before I left the hotel. He finishes counting and looks back up.
Officer: They will be right out.
Cheetah Fighter: <Thank you.>
The officer gets up off his ass and goes to get them out. He walks like a damn penguin for Christ sake. My girlfriend and I cannot help but chuckle underneath our breaths at the way that cop walks.
Girlfriend: I wonder if he eats raw fish? I mean, that is what penguins eat.
Cheetah Fighter: <I don't think they serve sushi here.>
Girlfriend: Well whatever, he looks like a goddamn whale.
I nod. Not long later, those two arrive. My girlfriend runs up and hugs and kisses beer breath on the cheek while jerkface and I look on before the four of us walk out of the police station and to the car where we get inside. We all buckle up and before I can start up the car, the alcoholic begins to speak.
Drunk: Free at last. Free at FUCKING LAST!
Cheetah Fighter: <What exactly went on with you three?>
Drunk: I am assuming she told you the short story?
I nod slowly.
Drunk: Well I was being called the N word and the fans were calling her a spic. They even called her a whore which majorly pissed him off.
Joker: They're lucky I didn't fucking stab them... if I had a goddamn weapon.
Drunk: Oh yeah. Anyways, he traded insults back and forth with them. He said something they didn't like and we got shoved and then it was on. I broke one of their jaw's and I cannot remember if it was the other guy I was fighting or the one he beat the hell out of, but I know one of them was beat into unconsciousness.
Cheetah Fighter: <Holy shit! That's... that's insane.>
Joker: And the show was shit to boot.
Cheetah Fighter: <Like HWF shit, WCW shit, Truly Horrible shit... or worse?>
Joker: Worse.
Cheetah Fighter: <Damn. Glad I didn't go then.>
Drunk: Be very thankful. Last time I'm going to one of those here.
Joker: Same.
Girlfriend: Yeah.
Cheetah Fighter: <I think you guys have had enough of this crap for the day. Let's get the hell out of here.>
I start up the car, put it in reverse and back out. Once I press the break, I put it in drive and we drive away from the police station as the scene fades out.
The End
In the art of battle, you win some and you lose some. Not every battle is going to be a win in this profession. The most important thing is the end result of a war. Yes, this past Rapture was in the loss column, but don't think we didn't make an impact because we did such a thing. Eric Price learned the hard way how much one will pay for fucking with me to the point where we will snap and beat the holy hell out of those in our way, and Brad Kane knows how far I am willing to go to make an impact. I'm a reasonable man with a short temper. If somebody like a Price, Kane or Jonny Fly dares to fuck with me. I make no bones about it.
They will be obliterated.
Now that we have gotten that out of the way. I'm not going to sit here and bullshit everybody when I say this because I want to be as truthful as I can, but I want the world, goddammit. The world. Hell, I want a lot of things, but the WCF Television Championship is at the very top of that list. It has been that way since this company started. If you're not in this business to be at the top, why the fuck would you even be here to begin with? There are a numerous amount of memorable people who have been in my position before. WCF's first true great Television Champion Biohazard was in this position despite his retardation, then after him was CyRax. From there, Creeping Death, PC Cradle and Madd Dogg made that title more prestigious. And it grew from there when one of the greats, Dake Ken, won it. We even witnessed Jack of Blades become a Television Champion right here in WCF.
It's moments like that with those who held the holy grail of this company, that makes this business all the more special and I damn sure want one of those moments. Yes I have held championships throughout my career. My history with the WCF is evident enough and I am proud as all hell of the months I've stayed here, but having that special moment of winning the WCF Television Championship would just be icing on the cake for me and it would add to a very stellar career I have had in this industry up to this point. I stated earlier that I wanted the fucking world.
My opportunity is right here.
And the man in my path to achieve said opportunity, is the man holding all the cards. I'm actually fairly familiar with John Gab;e, despite him rescuing me from Eric Price and his peons. Whether it's from that shitty ass stable called Rebellion, and all the way to the here and now. Few months of total destruction on our separate ways and really, he's been billed as such since the very get-go, winning the Tel... actually, you cannot call the EPPW belt a "Television Championship", that's a fucking disgrace to all meaningful undercard Championships. But anyways, he won their stepping stone title in a month's time and despite being a rookie, he was really the cream of the crop in WCF. Some may debate whether or not he was a quick learner, or the rest of the roster itself being that goddamn horrendous, but the facts are still there. He dominated that ring with ease.
Fast forward to when he won the title. Now for those who don't know your WCF, WCF has always been competitive and unlike most rosters, we don't have a shitty fucking roster and we certainly consist of actual people, but nonetheless Gable has been relatively dominant here, proving that he is indeed one of the most underrated wrestlers in the world. He has slayed the likes of Pantheon among others before winning the title.
Why am I stating all of this? Because research is key. It's something I know a lot of people in this company do not bother doing, and I like to know what I am getting myself into. When I face an obstacle, I like to go at it with full force. Do I think this is going to be an easy contest? Hell no, and I wouldn't have it any other way. On the surface, ever since winning the contendership spot, Gable's cockiness has only increased. He began the bullshit of playing cutesy little games and has gone back to business. It seems ever since I pointed out that he lost an edge of sorts, he's only upped his game and personally, I'm happy to see that because the wrestling business isn't one for the faint of heart. It's not one for weak individuals. The phrase "the strong survives" is evident enough.
Back to the subject at hand. Gable, I know you're a challenge, only an idiot would say otherwise and I know what type of brutality you're capable of dishing out. I have watched from afar, I have watched everything and I'm sure you can say the same about me. You have said I am the biggest threat to your title reign a few times. Not to toot my own horn or boost my own ego, but that's a very accurate statement and one I completely agree with. The way I see it, we are two different individuals who fight for different causes, me helping fight for the good of WCF to dethrone the idiot Eric Price, while you remind the people that you are who you are while destroying any motherfucker in your path... but at the same time, we are similar in the course of dominating anybody who is place in our paths and in a strange way, we both enjoy seeing others suffer in the anguish of severe pain and punishment. At least I have started to grow accustomed towards enjoying it. The pain and misery that Eric Price was put through is a prime example of such, even though Eric is by nature, a weak piece of shit of a man who got what he deserved.
As has been obvious for quite sometime, even before I took a couple of months off to heal my injuries after working for several independent promotions. This match up between us is something we both wanted, whether a championship was at stake or not, and it was one that would happen eventually. We never got the chance in ADM and knowing the damage that you took against Morientes, I'm sure that's a moment that's motivated you for this match and has remained in the back of your mind ever since I laid a mark on you while you were looking up at the stars. I will go on record to say that doing that was nothing personal, at least for me it wasn't. It was all business, and just like our match up tonight.
It's all business.
But the key thing here is that the title is on the line. The match by itself is a motivator, but I'm extra motivated towards getting the job done. I'm not going to sit here and make vague guarantees like they mean something because that could just as easily blow up in my face and make me look like a complete and total jackass. I might be an outspoken individual with a temper that's short and a mind of destruction, but here... well the mind of destruction will stay in-tact. I plan on doing everything I physically can do and achieve my number one goal. John Gable, you have had a nice run with the WCF Television Championship and you can surely say you can hold the biggest prize in the business, but will it last much longer? Not sure, but you better believe I will try and bring it home to me. Cheetah Fighter being the new WCF Television Champion? I like the sound of that very very much. It has a nice ring to it.
Tonight, Gable. I'll be leaving EPPW with the title in my hands. Tonight until it happens. Until then...
Welcome to my hell.
See you at Slam, John.