The Continuation of The Renaissance
Jan 1, 2017 15:34:10 GMT -5
6ix God, Wade Moor, and 2 more like this
Post by FPV on Jan 1, 2017 15:34:10 GMT -5
FPV Promo #12 - The Continuation of The Renaissance
If any city is to be associated with celebrating New Years Day, it's New York fuckin' City. That's exactly where I was in preparation for New Years Bash.
The aftermath of the biggest event of the year was a week long break to celebrate Christmas, which I dearly needed after expending most of my energy in defending my Television Title. I was an exhausted (both physical and emotional) wreck after my match with Polar at One, and was glad I didn't go to the depths I thought I was going to have to. Another successful defense under my belt, I spent the next week happily doing nothing but overseeing day-to-day operations of The People's Grounds and binge watching One Piece. Once Christmas was all wrapped up, I decided to go somewhere I don't usually have the pleasure of going to, New York City.
Looking over the city from the observation deck of the Empire State Building, a feeling of superiority washed over me. And why shouldn't it? Watching the ant-sized people go about their business below me as I began to approach day 77 of my Television Title reign, the thought crossed my mind: am I becoming a God in this TV Division? I might as well be, I've handled every other challenger before me with ease, taking them down one by one. Fuck, the toughest competition I've had so far is coming up in a few days against folk who should be aspiring higher then where they are currently, but are stuck playing second fiddle to an computer-illiterate Italian. So sad.
The TV Title has history, prestige, lineage.
The Trios Titles would probably fetch about $50 on Pawn Stars, no title belt expert required.
I laughed to myself, pulled out my phone and went live on Facebook.
The aftermath of the biggest event of the year was a week long break to celebrate Christmas, which I dearly needed after expending most of my energy in defending my Television Title. I was an exhausted (both physical and emotional) wreck after my match with Polar at One, and was glad I didn't go to the depths I thought I was going to have to. Another successful defense under my belt, I spent the next week happily doing nothing but overseeing day-to-day operations of The People's Grounds and binge watching One Piece. Once Christmas was all wrapped up, I decided to go somewhere I don't usually have the pleasure of going to, New York City.
Looking over the city from the observation deck of the Empire State Building, a feeling of superiority washed over me. And why shouldn't it? Watching the ant-sized people go about their business below me as I began to approach day 77 of my Television Title reign, the thought crossed my mind: am I becoming a God in this TV Division? I might as well be, I've handled every other challenger before me with ease, taking them down one by one. Fuck, the toughest competition I've had so far is coming up in a few days against folk who should be aspiring higher then where they are currently, but are stuck playing second fiddle to an computer-illiterate Italian. So sad.
The TV Title has history, prestige, lineage.
The Trios Titles would probably fetch about $50 on Pawn Stars, no title belt expert required.
I laughed to myself, pulled out my phone and went live on Facebook.
FPV: I don't want to mince words here, so folks, I'm going to get right to the point. At New Year's Bash, the TV Title Tag match shall be the match of the night. Fuck a World title match, with Sanchez as ref there's bound to be shenanigans. Fuck a gimmick ball drop match that doesn't even have anything on the line. No, my match is gonna have everyone tuned in, fully entranced with what's happening in the ring. There won't be no "Oh jeez just do your interferance spot" like in Flash vs. Digger. In this match, everyone will be thinking "Can they do it? Can the Brotherhood really defeat the new Trios Champs?"
The answer, of course, is yes. Why? Because outside of Flash and Sanchez, the rest of Pantheon has had a SHIT year, so to speak. Half of the stable is a big waste of space. Corey Black lost to Bates, a man he so handely put down at WAR, and promptly fucked right off. Has ZMac succeeded in doing ANYTHING other then losing dat Horror-kore (a title my Swamp Thing inspired Sea Monster failed to capture at One)? Dune is considered a member despite doing NOTHING since the group formed. Jay Price wasted all of our time with his stupid little El Hijo De Price bit, only to get pinned 1, 2, 3 by Jason. O. Neal. Price quite frankly should've stayed retired after I beat him in the Classic, but that's neither here nor there.
Too many cooks, too many cooks.
Now Jared Holmes is off getting hitched, so he can't be here this week. Sad, I would've liked to have given his receipt for making a mockery of my TV Title, but that'll be another day. So it'll have to be you two, Wade and Jason.
I'll start with you Wade. After all, you're a former World Champ just like me. So let's metaphorically compare dicks for a minute? I won my World title in a Fatal Four Way that included The Monster Guardian of the Nae Nae back in his prime, the man your little Stable leader tried so DESPERATELY to copy, and the same man he's facing this week for the World Title. So in short? Real competition.
Your reign started because Seth got drunk and made an impulsive decision to change the main event on the fly after you whined like bitches over Twitter because of the outcome of WAR.
Fuckin' what?
You wanna know why no one took your World title reign seriously, Wade? Let's not even take into account how you WON the belt. They never took the reign seriously cause they didn't take YOU seriously, you Everglades reject. You are the living embodiment of every bad Florida Man joke.
Florida Man attempts to smoke crack in ICU, almost burns down hospital.
Florida Man escapes adult novelty store with $300 Jenna Jameson doll in tow.
Florida Man murders his own father in a swamp because THE VOICES IN MY HEAD TOLD ME TOO.
You get the idea.
Your ill-begotten World Title reign was only the beginning of the whole sale devaluing of the title. Of all people to lose the belt to, you lost it to Jay Price, a man who, just one year later, failed in winning a belt meant for rookies. He then lost it to Joey Flash, who got cashed in on by Logan, who lost it about a month later to DA MONSTER GUARDIAN, who in turn lost it to Jeff Purse, who then lost it...oh you get the point Wade.
I'm only going to say this once Wade. I will NOT let you do the same thing to this TV Title. I reached day 77 of my reign by defending this belt every week. You could reach day 77 of your Trios Title reign by doing literally nothing, knowing how often that belt is defended. That match you had with my bro Vic? Yeah, this won't be no encore of that. I've worked too damn hard to make this belt important again, and I will NOT have all that work go to waste by having it fall in your Cheeto-dust encrusted hands. Capiche?
As for you Jason, I'll work extra hard to make sure this belt doesn't fall in your hands either. That's right, JASON. Not Johnny. We're off Twitter, I feel like we can call each other by our real names here.
You know for a guy who seems so hell bent on taking over the wrestling industry by force you're doing quite a shit job at it, don't you think? You came to the WCF about a year ago, and in that time you've not come any closer to the domination you said you'd bring. The only thing you have to your name is a new and already worthless reign as Trios Champion and a Television Title reign that never got off the ground due to the events of Mexico. I suppose you feel you're owed you're "rightful belt", right?
HA.
If you think I'm just gonna hand this bad boy to you on a golden platter like everything else in your life has been, you've gotten another thing coming you wank pheasant. If you're supposed to be The Serpent, then consider me The Mongoose who swoops in and rips you to pieces. You talk like you should have been World Champion ages ago, yet walk like another dime-a-dozen midcarder who gets burnt out and quit because they couldn't get what they want. Just like your co-champion Jared Holmes.
Speaking of ole' boy, I find it sad how you opposed this man for so long, fought over control of #Beachkrew for so long with him, and now all of a sudden, you two are all buddy buddy? Fuck, not even buddy buddy, but CO-CHAMPIONS? Talk about giving up on your ideals. At least with Bishop and I our beef was exclusively over the People's Title, beyond that we held mutual respect for one another. Did you two just give up fighting because you realized how little the name #Beachkrew name means now that Pantheon has risen? I suppose so.
Most champs get this week off. I do not. I'm going to defend this title as if it was another singles defense. I'm not gonna settle with Bishop being pinned in this match to retain my title. I will only accept one outcome, and that is total victory.
2016 was just the beginning.
2017, the renaissance continues.
Happy New Year, Pantheon.
It's a good thing Kevin Bishop is on my side, because the fucker knows everything I'm going to do before I do it.
We had been sparring for a bit at the local gym in New York, in preparation for New Year's Bash. Having both teamed with the man and faced him one on one, the chemistry between us was beginning to show. For every attack I gave him, he fund a counter for it. With every hold he tried to put me in, I wiggled free and landed some stiff shots. We went tit-for-tat, and only ended when we both decided to grab a splash of water.
The gym wasn't anything to write home about. Scattered across were young upstarts sparring with fellow rookies across five rings. On the walls, various posters of people who trained at this gym hung. I felt like I was in a Rocky movie, training for the big fight at the end of the movie. There was a veritable hustle and bustle within this gym, and Bishop and I were right in the middle of it.
As we rehydrated, I could see in his eyes that Bishop was thinking. Thinking hard about something, although I couldn't figure out what.
We had been sparring for a bit at the local gym in New York, in preparation for New Year's Bash. Having both teamed with the man and faced him one on one, the chemistry between us was beginning to show. For every attack I gave him, he fund a counter for it. With every hold he tried to put me in, I wiggled free and landed some stiff shots. We went tit-for-tat, and only ended when we both decided to grab a splash of water.
The gym wasn't anything to write home about. Scattered across were young upstarts sparring with fellow rookies across five rings. On the walls, various posters of people who trained at this gym hung. I felt like I was in a Rocky movie, training for the big fight at the end of the movie. There was a veritable hustle and bustle within this gym, and Bishop and I were right in the middle of it.
As we rehydrated, I could see in his eyes that Bishop was thinking. Thinking hard about something, although I couldn't figure out what.
FPV: You okay, dude?
Kevin Bishop: I am, just brainstorming.
I had no clue what he was saying, but decided not to press it further. That is, until I saw him beckon a young rookie on over. The kid seemed starstruck, considering who he was now talking to.
Rookie: Oh my god, you're...you're FPV and Kevin Bishop, aren't you?
Kevin Bishop: Indeed we are, and we're in need of some help, if you don't mind of course.
Bishop was working that cult leader charm on this kid, cause the young'un seemed excited at the prospect of helping us out.
Kevin Bishop: We've got this new move we've been working on, but haven't tested it out yet. Would you mind taking this move, just once?
Rookie: What kind of move?
Kevin Bishop: A finisher, I suppose you could call it. But like I said, you'd only have to take it once.
Rookie: I...I suppose so. But only if you promise to do this move on Rabid and Wade.
Kevin Bishop: Oh trust me my boy, we will.
I couldn't say I enjoyed Kevin's approach to getting this kid to take this move, mostly because I had no idea what the actual MOVE we were doing was. Bishop then leaned over and whispered it into my ear.
A Black Death into a Headshot.
By God.
I was close to protesting all of this, but after thinking about it for a bit, the idea of this combination move seemed...well, it seemed badass as hell. So the three of us got into the ring to do this thing. Bishop stood on the apron, while I stood near the kid, waiting. Bishop hopped onto the ropes and into the air...BOOM, Springboard Code Breaker. The move was a thing of beauty. Mentally I was replacing the image off this poor kid to that fatfuck Wade Moor, imaging him taking it instead, and smiled. The boy had only a second of reacting to the move before I went in for the kill.
Boom.
Headshot.
EPILOGUE: Deep Within A Mail Truck
The date is December 23rd, 2016. On a random mail truck headed for the state of Louisiana was a box. Within this box, one could hear the jingling of a broken title belt, the meal shards bouncing up and down with each pot hole. The label on this box read...
Scibbled onto the mailing label, in black marker...
MERRY CHRISTMAS, YA FILTHY ANIMAL.
TO: RICKY RICHARDS
MARRERO, LA
70072
FROM: FRANK VENABLE
MARRERO, LA
70072
FROM: FRANK VENABLE
Scibbled onto the mailing label, in black marker...
MERRY CHRISTMAS, YA FILTHY ANIMAL.