Post by Logan on Sept 4, 2013 5:34:44 GMT -5
Earlier that day cameras revealed Logan standing inside a museum eyeing the skeleton of a T-Rex. This fierce creature once the predator of all predators, somehow wiped from existence with no definite explanation, only theories. Maybe the world iced over. Maybe it was plummeted with rocks soaring in from outer space. Who knew. Nothing more now than a trophy on display. A relic of the past. What once was of the world...
Joe Smith: Fascinating.
Logan: Fuck T-Rex.
Joe Smith: What?!
Logan: He's lucky I wasn't around back then. He would have had ME to deal with.
Smith rolls his eyes.
Logan: Let's go, Seth. This place bores me.
Joe Smith: Stop calling me Seth!
Logan: Your name is Seth.
Joe Smith: My name is Jo -
Logan: SHUT UP!
Some time has passed since the museum. Joe Smith and Logan are seated in a car with Joe behind the wheel.
Joe Smith: We need fuel.
Logan: I don't want to stop. We need to stay in motion, the only way to reach progress.
Joe Smith: Stop being silly. We'll run out of gas.
Logan: We can't stop.
Joe Smith: Logan...
Logan: The Sopranos is about to come on!
Joe Smith: So? What about the Deuce promo? I thought we were doing that.
Logan: I don't have Tivo. Deuce can wait.
Joe Smith: We need gas.
His arms of treachery folded over and tucked into his sides.
Logan: Better make it quick.
Joe Smith: I'm sure they'll rerun the episode again. Hell, you could just buy the shit on DVD.
Logan: I don't do reruns. What if I stumble across a Myspace message that happens to behold serious mind blowing spoilers that will ruin my experience of watching The Sopranos?
Joe Smith: Myspace? Who the fuck uses Myspace?
Logan: Damn you, Seth!
Smith shook his head, pulling into the gas station and parking the car just beside a pump. The two sat in a moment in complete silence.
Joe Smith: So...
Logan: H'm?
Joe Smith: We need gas.
Logan: Yup.
Joe Smith: Sure would be nice.
Logan: Wouldn't it?
Joe Smith: Yup...
More silence lingered on.
Joe Smith: Logan, you make way more money than I do.
Logan: I wouldn't say that.
Joe Smith: Get some gas. And yes you do.
Logan: Even if I did...
Joe Smith: What?
Logan: I don't pump gas.
Joe Smith: You don't pump gas?!
Logan: I do not.
Joe Smith: Why not?
Logan: The pump handles are full of bacteria.
Joe Smith: You're afraid to touch them?
Logan: Yes. What if a zombie came passing through at night and slapped his undead penis on the gas pump? How could I possibly know?
Joe Smith: You're being ridiculous.
Logan: Am I, Seth? Am I really?
Joe Smith: My name isn't... sigh, so, when you're alone.. who pumps your gas?
Logan: Whoever doesn't want a ticket to Connector City.
Joe Smith: So you threaten to attack strangers if they don't grab the fuel pump and pump gas for you?
Logan: About twice a week.
Joe Smith: Jesus...
Logan: Seth?
Joe Smith: What?
Logan: We're missing The Sopranos.
A frustrated Joe pushed open the car door and fled over to the gas pump mumbling sneers under his breath. Logan opted to stretch his legs, stepping out and leaning against the hood. An attractive woman walked past him.
Logan: Hey babygurl.
Chick: You're talking to me?
She stopped, having his attention.
Logan: You've been working hard.
Chick: I have?
Logan: Yes, ma'am. You need a vacation.
Chick: Uh... excuse me.
Logan: A trip, ma'am. You want a ticket to Crotch City?
He shot her a pelvic thrust.
Chick: What a perv...
Logan: HEY! SHUT UP! I'm not a pervert.
He grabbed her from behind and gave her a Connector on the hard concrete surface.
Logan: Would a pervert have done that?!
Smith came rushing over.
Joe Smith: What are you doing?!
Logan: She grabbed my Jumbo Hotdog of Treachery, Seth. I had to defend myself!
Joe Smith: Whoa... really?
Logan: Yes!
Joe Smith: Good call then. We better go.
Logan: I know, we've already missed the first five minutes of the show, and all over this hotdog snatcher.
He kicked the down woman. It was later that the pair arrived at Logan's mansion, the television had already been tuned to Logan's liking, however the show he wanted to watch had already aired and ended.
Logan: This is all your fault, Seth. Thanks a lot.
Joe Smith: Stop calling me Seth!
Logan: SHUT UP!
Mr. WCF exhaustedly fell down into his couch.
Logan: I have little control over anything these days. I can't even control who my tag team partner will be on a given week. You know that Deuce is more than he says he is. That man is secretly out to get me. I know it. Where the hell did he come from anyway?
Joe Smith: What makes you think that?
Logan: Didn't you watch Slam? That was a fix. He's trying to sabotage my reputation. He used every chance he could to fall on his back, begging for someone to pin him. Nobody tries to play me and gets away with it. And what's wrong with that boudle anyway? I called him a boudle and he takes it in stride and prances around the name like he was just knighted.
Joe Smith: Maybe he likes being called a boudle.
Logan: Nobody should, Seth. Boudle is scum. It's an insult.
Joe Smith: I'll admit that does not make much sense.
Logan: Nope. Seth... I need you to do me a favor.
Joe Smith: Uh..
Logan: Stop booking me in tag team matches with boudles. If you want to team me up with somebody do it with a person that's actually in our group.
Joe Smith: What group?
Logan: The ToT. Have you been drinking, boudle?
Joe Smith: Wha -
Logan: SHUT UP!
Joe Smith: I don't unde -
Logan: SHUT UP!
Joe Smith: LOGAN!
Logan: What?
Joe Smith: Are you okay?
Logan: Yes, Seth. I'm sorry I yelled at you; you didn't deserve that. Let's hug this out.
Joe Smith: We don't have to, and damnit... I'm Joe Smith!
Logan: Sure you haven't been drinking? It's okay, just come here.. give me a hug. It'll make you feel better.
He pushed on, grabbing Joe and giving him a hug while patting him on the back too. His mouth just a few inches from Joe's ear.
Logan: Go find the boys, Seth. Tell Jack of Blades and Lawnmower Jones to meet me here. We need to talk about these hideous tag team matches you keep throwing me in.
Smith backed away, eyeing Logan with confusion.
Joe Smith: Those guys aren't around.
Logan: Where are they -
Joe Smith: They haven't wrestled here in years. Logan, are you sure you're okay?
Logan: Don't be ridiculous. Ultimate Showdown was just last month right?
Joe Smith: Well about two months ago...
Logan: One month, two months, it just happened. I have just gone from taking that boudle Torture to Connector City to getting teamed up with this unknown bastard, Deuce.
Joe Smith: Wait... Torture? You didn't wrestle at this years Ultimate Showdown.
Logan: I did too you moron. How could you have missed me? You booked the damn match. I was in the main event!
Joe Smith: You were?
Logan: Yes, fighting Torture.
Joe Smith: Logan...
Logan: Why are we even talking about this? Go rally up the rest of the Team of Treachery and stop wasting my time.
Joe Smith: That was 2006...
Logan: SHUT UP!
Joe Smith: It's 2013, man.
Logan: Go get Jack and Jones and tell them it's high time we put an end to The New Dynasty.
Joe Smith: But you guys DID end The New Dynasty. It's already happened - years ago!
Logan: You're killing me, Seth. You really need to lay off the booze.
Joe Smith: Unbelievable. You're messing with me aren't you? This is some kind of prank. I mean, nobody could actually be this nuts... right?
Logan: You're the only nutjob in this house.
Joe Smith: Open your eyes, take a look outside, hell, look at EPPW... the roster...
Logan: I have things to do.
Jakobs lifted Deuce up for a Burning Hammer. That might do the little boudle in. I'm definitely super kicking this Jakobs asshole in the mouth if he hits it. Deuce escaped, good for him, and here he comes to tag me in. I'd love nothing more. I reached out my hand.
Logan: Hurry up, boudle!
Sarah Twilight seemed more than anxious upon seeing me step through the ropes. She demanded Jakobs tag her. Go on, give the witch a slap on the hand. Good job, Jakobs. Here she comes. She looks mad.
Logan: You want the bitch slapped out of you -
Oof! She interrupted me with a right into my jaw and I happily responded back with one of my own. We brawled the ring and the red headed witch managed to gain an upperhand. I felt her arms quickly wrap my sides and my feet left the surface of the ring sending me airborne. My skull bounced off the matt and for a moment I could barely lift myself up. My head was swimming and the arena spun out of control from my sight. I rubbed at my eyes, finding the sight of Sarah locked into a Dragon Sleeper through blurred vision. If anyone was going to make her scream tonight it would be me! Fighting off the dizziness, I dove into Waylon and knocked him loose from Sarah. I reached down, grabbing him by the hair, and pulling him up. He broke free. The spinning returned and I could hardly make out where he was - not until his kneecap plunged into my forehead putting me back down. I was really getting my ass handed to me here. Everything was black. Where was I? My eye lids flapped open and closed again but it was still hard to regain vision. I could hear his voice... now I could see his feet circling my downed body. Was I really seeing this - Torture standing above me?
Torture: Get up, Logan!
My sight cleared and Torture had vanished with it. Gobble slipped in with a Crossface Chickenwing just I was beginning to get up. The pain brought back the spinning, and through the gaps in the locked fingers of John Gobble I could see Torture plain as day, knelt down beside me, a big grin on his face while he watched me wither away in pain.
Torture: Having fun?
I picked my face off the sweat stained mat and looked up into Torture's eyes. The bastard that I owed any ounce of hate to that ever surged through me. Everyone else nonchalantly brawled as if he wasn't here. I looked beside me to the red head and the other guy while they traded punches... when did they interfere in our match? And where the hell did they come from? I never recalled seeing them before now. Are we just letting people off the streets into WCF? I looked back to where Torture had been and couldn't find him; instead a kid reached out from over the ropes begging for me to tag him. Who the fuck is that?
Logan: Who the fuck are you?
Deuce: What? Tag me in, Logan!
I can't remember a time ever being more confused. I stumbled into the corner and tagged the stranger in. When did this become a tag match with a bunch of strangers? Was I knocked out? I thought I was wrestling Torture.
Logan: Torture!
I shouted while looking around the arena. Where had he gone? Maybe he slipped through the audience; the audience that were holding up signs with names that had no business in WCF. Seriously, what the fuck happened? Did Seth Lerch sign a bunch of boudles overnight? The kid was on his back and getting pinned, his eyes gazed into my direction as if he expected me to break the fall. Okay... I guess. Before I could even get close that red headed woman close lined the shit out of me and I went over the ropes and to the outside. Since when did we start letting women wrestle here? Either way, she could hit hard. The bell rang and obviously that meant the match was over but I hadn't pinned Torture and he hadn't pinned me. So who's match was this? I needed answers. Now. The backstage was even more disturbing than the ring. Fresh faced kids I had never seen wore wrestling gear and walked past with a nod or a hello as if we had all known each other for years. Where was JJ Biggs, Nate Nytro, Jack? Where had everyone gone? Was that Bobby Cairo? He was the only face I recognized and I tried to catch up with him to see what was up with all the new guys before bumping through a door that read "EPPW" on it. A staff member passed beside me and I reached out for him.
Logan: Why do I keep seeing EPPW logos around here?
Staff Member: Because that's the name of the company.
Logan: What the hell are you talking about. This is WCF.
Staff Member: It was...
Logan: Where is Seth Lerch?
Staff Member: He's around somewhere. I think Eric Price is close by if you want to talk to him though.
Logan: And why would I want to talk to him?
Staff Member: He's the owner.
Logan: You think this is cute isn't it? You in on this bullshit?
The staff member looked more confused than I did but that didn't stop me from grabbing him by his shirt and slinging him down the hall. I looked at the EPPW logo hung onto the wall, and my hands death gripped the banner ripping it down to the floor.
Logan: THIS IS WCF! YOU GOT THAT?
That was yesterday. Since then I knew of only two things. One... I was wrestling a fellow named Deuce this Sunday, and secondly... Jack of Blades, Lawnmower Jones, JJ Biggs, my entire team was missing. I would find them, and I would find Torture as well. Torture and I weren't through, not by a fuckin' long shot.
Joe Smith: Fascinating.
Logan: Fuck T-Rex.
Joe Smith: What?!
Logan: He's lucky I wasn't around back then. He would have had ME to deal with.
Smith rolls his eyes.
Logan: Let's go, Seth. This place bores me.
Joe Smith: Stop calling me Seth!
Logan: Your name is Seth.
Joe Smith: My name is Jo -
Logan: SHUT UP!
Some time has passed since the museum. Joe Smith and Logan are seated in a car with Joe behind the wheel.
Joe Smith: We need fuel.
Logan: I don't want to stop. We need to stay in motion, the only way to reach progress.
Joe Smith: Stop being silly. We'll run out of gas.
Logan: We can't stop.
Joe Smith: Logan...
Logan: The Sopranos is about to come on!
Joe Smith: So? What about the Deuce promo? I thought we were doing that.
Logan: I don't have Tivo. Deuce can wait.
Joe Smith: We need gas.
His arms of treachery folded over and tucked into his sides.
Logan: Better make it quick.
Joe Smith: I'm sure they'll rerun the episode again. Hell, you could just buy the shit on DVD.
Logan: I don't do reruns. What if I stumble across a Myspace message that happens to behold serious mind blowing spoilers that will ruin my experience of watching The Sopranos?
Joe Smith: Myspace? Who the fuck uses Myspace?
Logan: Damn you, Seth!
Smith shook his head, pulling into the gas station and parking the car just beside a pump. The two sat in a moment in complete silence.
Joe Smith: So...
Logan: H'm?
Joe Smith: We need gas.
Logan: Yup.
Joe Smith: Sure would be nice.
Logan: Wouldn't it?
Joe Smith: Yup...
More silence lingered on.
Joe Smith: Logan, you make way more money than I do.
Logan: I wouldn't say that.
Joe Smith: Get some gas. And yes you do.
Logan: Even if I did...
Joe Smith: What?
Logan: I don't pump gas.
Joe Smith: You don't pump gas?!
Logan: I do not.
Joe Smith: Why not?
Logan: The pump handles are full of bacteria.
Joe Smith: You're afraid to touch them?
Logan: Yes. What if a zombie came passing through at night and slapped his undead penis on the gas pump? How could I possibly know?
Joe Smith: You're being ridiculous.
Logan: Am I, Seth? Am I really?
Joe Smith: My name isn't... sigh, so, when you're alone.. who pumps your gas?
Logan: Whoever doesn't want a ticket to Connector City.
Joe Smith: So you threaten to attack strangers if they don't grab the fuel pump and pump gas for you?
Logan: About twice a week.
Joe Smith: Jesus...
Logan: Seth?
Joe Smith: What?
Logan: We're missing The Sopranos.
A frustrated Joe pushed open the car door and fled over to the gas pump mumbling sneers under his breath. Logan opted to stretch his legs, stepping out and leaning against the hood. An attractive woman walked past him.
Logan: Hey babygurl.
Chick: You're talking to me?
She stopped, having his attention.
Logan: You've been working hard.
Chick: I have?
Logan: Yes, ma'am. You need a vacation.
Chick: Uh... excuse me.
Logan: A trip, ma'am. You want a ticket to Crotch City?
He shot her a pelvic thrust.
Chick: What a perv...
Logan: HEY! SHUT UP! I'm not a pervert.
He grabbed her from behind and gave her a Connector on the hard concrete surface.
Logan: Would a pervert have done that?!
Smith came rushing over.
Joe Smith: What are you doing?!
Logan: She grabbed my Jumbo Hotdog of Treachery, Seth. I had to defend myself!
Joe Smith: Whoa... really?
Logan: Yes!
Joe Smith: Good call then. We better go.
Logan: I know, we've already missed the first five minutes of the show, and all over this hotdog snatcher.
He kicked the down woman. It was later that the pair arrived at Logan's mansion, the television had already been tuned to Logan's liking, however the show he wanted to watch had already aired and ended.
Logan: This is all your fault, Seth. Thanks a lot.
Joe Smith: Stop calling me Seth!
Logan: SHUT UP!
Mr. WCF exhaustedly fell down into his couch.
Logan: I have little control over anything these days. I can't even control who my tag team partner will be on a given week. You know that Deuce is more than he says he is. That man is secretly out to get me. I know it. Where the hell did he come from anyway?
Joe Smith: What makes you think that?
Logan: Didn't you watch Slam? That was a fix. He's trying to sabotage my reputation. He used every chance he could to fall on his back, begging for someone to pin him. Nobody tries to play me and gets away with it. And what's wrong with that boudle anyway? I called him a boudle and he takes it in stride and prances around the name like he was just knighted.
Joe Smith: Maybe he likes being called a boudle.
Logan: Nobody should, Seth. Boudle is scum. It's an insult.
Joe Smith: I'll admit that does not make much sense.
Logan: Nope. Seth... I need you to do me a favor.
Joe Smith: Uh..
Logan: Stop booking me in tag team matches with boudles. If you want to team me up with somebody do it with a person that's actually in our group.
Joe Smith: What group?
Logan: The ToT. Have you been drinking, boudle?
Joe Smith: Wha -
Logan: SHUT UP!
Joe Smith: I don't unde -
Logan: SHUT UP!
Joe Smith: LOGAN!
Logan: What?
Joe Smith: Are you okay?
Logan: Yes, Seth. I'm sorry I yelled at you; you didn't deserve that. Let's hug this out.
Joe Smith: We don't have to, and damnit... I'm Joe Smith!
Logan: Sure you haven't been drinking? It's okay, just come here.. give me a hug. It'll make you feel better.
He pushed on, grabbing Joe and giving him a hug while patting him on the back too. His mouth just a few inches from Joe's ear.
Logan: Go find the boys, Seth. Tell Jack of Blades and Lawnmower Jones to meet me here. We need to talk about these hideous tag team matches you keep throwing me in.
Smith backed away, eyeing Logan with confusion.
Joe Smith: Those guys aren't around.
Logan: Where are they -
Joe Smith: They haven't wrestled here in years. Logan, are you sure you're okay?
Logan: Don't be ridiculous. Ultimate Showdown was just last month right?
Joe Smith: Well about two months ago...
Logan: One month, two months, it just happened. I have just gone from taking that boudle Torture to Connector City to getting teamed up with this unknown bastard, Deuce.
Joe Smith: Wait... Torture? You didn't wrestle at this years Ultimate Showdown.
Logan: I did too you moron. How could you have missed me? You booked the damn match. I was in the main event!
Joe Smith: You were?
Logan: Yes, fighting Torture.
Joe Smith: Logan...
Logan: Why are we even talking about this? Go rally up the rest of the Team of Treachery and stop wasting my time.
Joe Smith: That was 2006...
Logan: SHUT UP!
Joe Smith: It's 2013, man.
Logan: Go get Jack and Jones and tell them it's high time we put an end to The New Dynasty.
Joe Smith: But you guys DID end The New Dynasty. It's already happened - years ago!
Logan: You're killing me, Seth. You really need to lay off the booze.
Joe Smith: Unbelievable. You're messing with me aren't you? This is some kind of prank. I mean, nobody could actually be this nuts... right?
Logan: You're the only nutjob in this house.
Joe Smith: Open your eyes, take a look outside, hell, look at EPPW... the roster...
Logan: I have things to do.
Day Before: Slam 09/01/13
Jakobs lifted Deuce up for a Burning Hammer. That might do the little boudle in. I'm definitely super kicking this Jakobs asshole in the mouth if he hits it. Deuce escaped, good for him, and here he comes to tag me in. I'd love nothing more. I reached out my hand.
Logan: Hurry up, boudle!
Sarah Twilight seemed more than anxious upon seeing me step through the ropes. She demanded Jakobs tag her. Go on, give the witch a slap on the hand. Good job, Jakobs. Here she comes. She looks mad.
Logan: You want the bitch slapped out of you -
Oof! She interrupted me with a right into my jaw and I happily responded back with one of my own. We brawled the ring and the red headed witch managed to gain an upperhand. I felt her arms quickly wrap my sides and my feet left the surface of the ring sending me airborne. My skull bounced off the matt and for a moment I could barely lift myself up. My head was swimming and the arena spun out of control from my sight. I rubbed at my eyes, finding the sight of Sarah locked into a Dragon Sleeper through blurred vision. If anyone was going to make her scream tonight it would be me! Fighting off the dizziness, I dove into Waylon and knocked him loose from Sarah. I reached down, grabbing him by the hair, and pulling him up. He broke free. The spinning returned and I could hardly make out where he was - not until his kneecap plunged into my forehead putting me back down. I was really getting my ass handed to me here. Everything was black. Where was I? My eye lids flapped open and closed again but it was still hard to regain vision. I could hear his voice... now I could see his feet circling my downed body. Was I really seeing this - Torture standing above me?
Torture: Get up, Logan!
My sight cleared and Torture had vanished with it. Gobble slipped in with a Crossface Chickenwing just I was beginning to get up. The pain brought back the spinning, and through the gaps in the locked fingers of John Gobble I could see Torture plain as day, knelt down beside me, a big grin on his face while he watched me wither away in pain.
Torture: Having fun?
I picked my face off the sweat stained mat and looked up into Torture's eyes. The bastard that I owed any ounce of hate to that ever surged through me. Everyone else nonchalantly brawled as if he wasn't here. I looked beside me to the red head and the other guy while they traded punches... when did they interfere in our match? And where the hell did they come from? I never recalled seeing them before now. Are we just letting people off the streets into WCF? I looked back to where Torture had been and couldn't find him; instead a kid reached out from over the ropes begging for me to tag him. Who the fuck is that?
Logan: Who the fuck are you?
Deuce: What? Tag me in, Logan!
I can't remember a time ever being more confused. I stumbled into the corner and tagged the stranger in. When did this become a tag match with a bunch of strangers? Was I knocked out? I thought I was wrestling Torture.
Logan: Torture!
I shouted while looking around the arena. Where had he gone? Maybe he slipped through the audience; the audience that were holding up signs with names that had no business in WCF. Seriously, what the fuck happened? Did Seth Lerch sign a bunch of boudles overnight? The kid was on his back and getting pinned, his eyes gazed into my direction as if he expected me to break the fall. Okay... I guess. Before I could even get close that red headed woman close lined the shit out of me and I went over the ropes and to the outside. Since when did we start letting women wrestle here? Either way, she could hit hard. The bell rang and obviously that meant the match was over but I hadn't pinned Torture and he hadn't pinned me. So who's match was this? I needed answers. Now. The backstage was even more disturbing than the ring. Fresh faced kids I had never seen wore wrestling gear and walked past with a nod or a hello as if we had all known each other for years. Where was JJ Biggs, Nate Nytro, Jack? Where had everyone gone? Was that Bobby Cairo? He was the only face I recognized and I tried to catch up with him to see what was up with all the new guys before bumping through a door that read "EPPW" on it. A staff member passed beside me and I reached out for him.
Logan: Why do I keep seeing EPPW logos around here?
Staff Member: Because that's the name of the company.
Logan: What the hell are you talking about. This is WCF.
Staff Member: It was...
Logan: Where is Seth Lerch?
Staff Member: He's around somewhere. I think Eric Price is close by if you want to talk to him though.
Logan: And why would I want to talk to him?
Staff Member: He's the owner.
Logan: You think this is cute isn't it? You in on this bullshit?
The staff member looked more confused than I did but that didn't stop me from grabbing him by his shirt and slinging him down the hall. I looked at the EPPW logo hung onto the wall, and my hands death gripped the banner ripping it down to the floor.
Logan: THIS IS WCF! YOU GOT THAT?
That was yesterday. Since then I knew of only two things. One... I was wrestling a fellow named Deuce this Sunday, and secondly... Jack of Blades, Lawnmower Jones, JJ Biggs, my entire team was missing. I would find them, and I would find Torture as well. Torture and I weren't through, not by a fuckin' long shot.
