Long Live The King
Jan 28, 2017 20:59:29 GMT -5
Joey Flash, Eddie "Shiro" Felt, and 2 more like this
Post by "Iron Heart" Ethan King on Jan 28, 2017 20:59:29 GMT -5
Death of a Scrub - Part I: "Lion's Den"
“Vinnie Jones, where the fuck do I start with you, my dude? How about the fact that you’re hardly a month into your career here in the WCF, and you’ve already had to take a week off. Was last week a good rest for you? Are you up to your maximum capability? Are you ready to show The World that you alongside ZT are going to be a problem here for many months to come?
“Nah, fuck that noise. You aren’t about that shit, you never have been and you never will be. The odds are stacked against you and your boys and you’re already aware of this shit, that’s why you took last week off. You needed to be at your full potential, you’re not the most durable of competitors as you’ve already mentioned numerous times. I already know the game-plan from guys like you Vinnie, I can see exactly what you were seeing the week before the go-home show before Rise Up.
“You thought you’d be thrown a softball, an easy match to get your rookie momentum continuing, after all, besides your awful showing in your debut match, which was coupled with arguably one of the worst promotional videos I have ever seen in my lifetime, you’ve been relatively successful. Sure, all you’ve managed to do is make an unimpressive Adrian Archer tap, and been handed a win on a silver platter by Jason Cash in a tag match where you barely participated in, but other than that, you have done absolutely nothing of value here since your debut.
“But back to the point, you took the week off, hoping and praying that Seth would take it easy on you, that he’d give you a soft match-up that’d let you continue to rise your stock which at this point is one swift kick away from hitting rock bottom along with the rest of your crew in Zero Tolerance.
“Well, you see that rock bottom, Vinnie?
“You’re about to hit it.
“I want to apologize on behalf of Seth, man. Honestly, the man has already seen what I do to low card scrubs who think they can hang with me (shout out to Adam Burnett), and he decided to ignore that and put me in yet another low-card bout that ends with another fuccboi that ends up being completely overmatched. Unfortunately for you, Vinnie… you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, you’re that fuccboi, you’re that guy being overmatched, you’re that guy being thrown under the bus by an owner who was probably drunk and delirious as he was booking this match-up.
“But Vinnie, look on the bright side. This, this is your first real test since stepping into the WCF. Before this, you have never faced anyone of worth. Sure, you talked a lot of shit toward Kevin Bishop when you were scheduled to face against a Brotherhood team that he was leading into battle, but you never backed up that talk by stepping into the ring and actually facing down the man.
“But don’t worry, you can’t run away this time and hide from the challenge. This time around, you have to face it down and get bitch slapped to the canvas for your insolence. This time around, you get shown for the pretender that you really are. You can’t hide behind a tag team partner or two, you can’t hide behind a lesser competitor getting pinned in your place, like you did in your debut match. No, this time around, you face me. You will step into the most unwinnable match of your career, for now, and forever.
“I’d say this is your death sentence, your execution which you will not be able to return from, but I’d be lying. You already signed for your own death the moment you aligned yourself with Zero Tolerance, a faction that should already be on suicide watch after all the shit they’ve been put through recently. Jason Cash is being thoroughly buried and embarrassed by Adam Young, Crazy J is being murdered by Andre Holmes in a match that he never stood a chance in, and Salem Shepard, the only one in this shit-show of a stable that has any hope of reaching mediocrity, is nowhere to be found.
“Where does this leave you, Vinnie? It leaves you alone, stranded on an island. Unable to receive help from any of your so-called boys, if any of them are in their right mind, they aren’t going to run interference, unless they want to get their skulls fractured prior to their own personal matches. Nobody is going to come to save you from the butchering you’re about to receive.
“And the saddest part about it all? There’s nothing you can do about it.
“Sure, you can continue to run around with your uninspiring dual personality bullshit, just like Crazy J and Salem Shepard have. Unfortunately, you manage to make that even more cringe-worthy and unwatchable than both of them combined, so you don’t have much going for you in that regard either.
“Honestly though? This is some of the most run of the mill shit I’ve ever had to witness, rather than coming up with one interesting persona, you’ve decided to opt for two unbearable ones that nobody can be fucked watching. Crazy J already has his own little overdone shtick of having a good and bad side, although really I think by this point everyone can agree that there is no ‘good’ part about either of you guys and your multiple personalities. When it comes to that shit? Everything’s bad, it’s all utter trash and doesn’t belong anywhere near the WCF.
“Gemini Battle did it all better, and even he was subjected to never-ending ridicule and mockery. What makes Zero Talent, and you especially Vinnie, believe that you can make it work? Hopefully Seth can see through this overused bullshit and fire you all on the spot, and hey, it wouldn’t even really matter to you, would it Vinnie? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been kicked out of something. Remind you of anything?
“Oh yeah, your little basketball team. Had a bit of an implosion, did we? How fucking pathetic. Now you’re trying to pull that gimmick infringement shit on Kyle Kemp.
“Wait, no. Scratch that. That’s being disrespectful to Kyle Kemp. This is why you’re fucking terrible, Vinnie. You can’t even do being a failed athlete right, how in the world do you manage that?
“And I mean, if you can’t even compare to Kyle Kemp, who I am far more talented than, how do you match up? I well and truly am better than you, Vinnie.
“And there you have it, that’s how you infringe a gimmick while making a complete mockery of your opponent at the same time. Not only am I a megastar, not only am I more charismatic and skilled than you are, but I can rip another person’s gimmick better than you. I can rip Kyle Kemp’s shit and nobody will bat an eyelid because…
“1): I am giving his name more value, that’s what happens when you’re mentioned in an Ethan King promotion.
2): I am upgrading the worth of his most used phrase.
“Meanwhile, you’re over here ripping off of not only your own stablemates, but Gemini Battle, and you still can’t even weigh-in at that solid mid-card level yet, you’re still just coming in as enhancement talent for a future World Champion in myself.
“Seth’s already hitting me with that Joey Flash treatment, that prime-time Television Title Joey Flash treatment, to be specific. His logic is that he’ll throw a bunch of unworthy cunts at me, The Future King, in a game where he’ll wait and see how long it takes for me to beat down on the door of the main-event scene. And look at what that’s done for his federation, instead of building up the lower level talents and making them feel good about themselves, look what I’ve done to these low-end scrubs who thought they could box.
“Damian Kaine: Verbally murdered, quit the company mere weeks after I committed said murder.
“Adam Burnett: Killed, twice. Hasn’t had the same fire in his eyes since I doused said fire two weeks ago, now he’s going to get embarrassed by Sebastian Knight, and his once perfect record isn’t going to be looking so hot.
“Jason O’Neal: Murdered both verbally and mentally. Left him so shook by my last promo and my in-ring work that he was too scared to break up the winning pinfall that I landed on his partner, he was well aware of what would have happened had he put himself in my sights once again.
“This is the recurring theme throughout my career. I have been constantly lowballed by Seth, and even through that I have managed to put on brilliant performance after brilliant performance. Stealing shows, dropping pure ether that has left many of my competition questioning if they even belong in the federation even more. All of this has happened within only ten or so matches.
“For a solid eighty percent of this roster, the matches I have been put through in the short span of my career would be looked upon as a solid challenge, a good way to build momentum and make a name. But for me?
“This shit has been me playing on Rookie difficulty.
“This shit has been me doing what I do best, and making it look easy.
“This is me stepping through the ropes and making wrestling look like child’s play, against ‘world-class athletes.’
“My position on the card, the calibre of opposition I’ve been forced to face? It’s downright disrespectful, but I know how this story goes, I’ve seen it transpire time and time again. You, Vinnie, are just another man being thrown into the lion’s den, another sacrifice being used to raise my stock and reputation even higher than what it already is. You are the talentless hack being sacrificed this time around, and you are about to be promptly dealt with and sent packing even further down the card.
“Meanwhile, I’ll be left to continue doing what I’m already doing. I will continue to be denied the opportunities I am rightfully deserving of, as I keep killing low-end competition and conquer this new wave of talent that seem to think they belong here. I will do this until there is literally nothing left for me to do but to take my destined place at the top of the card, where I will remain for however long I please, until I feel my domination has run its course and there is nothing left for me to accomplish.
“This, Vinnie. This is what success looks like, this is what being a young, ultra-talented superstar with near limitless potential looks like. What I’m saying right now, what I’m talking about, my inevitable rise to the top of this company’s ranks… it’s complete arrogance on my behalf.
“But it’s also pure fact.
“It is the utmost confidence that I am greater and more fit to rule than nearly everybody else in this federation, there are few that remain who can stimulate me or give me any type of challenge. The sad reality about this? Most of these men, I am currently aligned with in some way or another due to my ‘connection’ with Jared Holmes.
“This spells disaster for people like you, Vinnie. I am your ceiling, I am the highest peak you will ever reach in your career, the peak that you will swiftly be knocked down from as I show you the overwhelming difference between our levels.
“And then? You will never rise and look me in the eye again, you are going to attempt to overcome the odds at Rise Up and you will be an example of. After that? You’ll linger around with the rest of Zero Tolerance, doing what you’re all bred for – being fed to the greater talents, while running rampant in the lower divisions. On this food chain? Your prey amounts to the Damian Kaine’s and Adrian Archer’s of this World.
“I, on the other hand, have much more to accomplish. Let it be known, Vinnie, that you will be the first to witness this ascent that I am about to go on.
“And that you will be the first victim, of many to come.”
The Future King - Part I: "Enter, The Eminent One."
Ethan walked through the front door with a swagger only a select few could ever hope to muster, he gave a subtle nod toward the suit-wearing doorman, not out of any respect for the man, but for the pity that his whole position in life had been relegated to opening the door for far more successful people, such as himself. He considered letting the man know that the orange bow-tie he wore, which in his expert opinion contrasted quite well with the black shirt he wore, was indeed crooked, tilted to a side that ruined the rest of the aesthetic, but thought against it – the doorman was grown and therefore should be responsible for his own appearance.
Ethan on the other hand? A fine example of what it meant to be a paragon in terms of fashion and style, although even he would admit he was wearing something quite simple in comparison to his usually extravagant outfits. A full light-blue skinny suit, the trousers and tie both matching the aforementioned colour, with brown leather shoes, all by Roger David. Although awfully cheap by his standards, he thought it appropriate for a place such as this, which in itself was hardly grand enough to hold someone of his standing in society.
Even so, he made it a point to ensure he donned his full-gold Dolce & Gabbana aviators, for none of the people present in this humble office block deserved to look him directly in the eye, and witness the coldness that was prominent within those two hazel circles.
And now that the thought entered his mind, he realized that he didn’t even need to be here, although he had been requested by an apparently wealthy business man with a hefty reputation within Los Angeles – not only for his success but the constant rumours that surrounded him in regards to the fate of his competition, who had an odd tendency to disappear or plummet to rock bottom the moment they became visible on his figurative radar.
Naturally, Ethan had researched about the man mere hours after being invited by him to this less than exquisite, generic office space. Even more naturally, Ethan had already forgotten everything he had found out after he had gone on another cocaine binge – a habit that was becoming more prominent by the day; not that it had become a cause for concern for the uber-talented young man.
The look of apathy that had begun to form in a scowl over Ethan’s face too was becoming more transparent, the longer he spent pacing towards the front reception of this short space that could hardly be called a lobby. It was a plain space that was home to one staircase, two elevators, a lifeless grey carpet and equally boring men and women who were seated, texting away aimlessly on their mobile devices, presumably awaiting some sort of appointment or meeting that they had deemed important enough to be in attendance for.
This sight was one that pleased Ethan, knowing that out of everyone here – he was the odd one out. He was the one who merely a week ago could’ve been found hungover, lonely and high in a small, run-down apartment that smelled like shit and held the heavy air of countless dreams which had been broken by the harsh reality of life. While he had been residing there, he could almost sense the type of people that had been living in that space before him, aspiring artists, writers and musicians, those types, all of them living small in Los Angeles, fighting to break out in a place that would never notice them, that would never give them the time of day to become the one thing they so desperately wanted to become. In that regard, he was different too. He was a walking success, only a few years after making the transition from boy to man, and he was the cream of the crop when it came to the talent that had come out of Los Angeles, California.
What a time to be alive.
This, however, was not the only way that he felt out of place in this scenario, as he strutted confidently toward the near-desolate front desk. Everyone else here had a purpose, they were required to be here, they had been coerced here by their own thoughts and feelings, and the duties of their unspectacular daily lives that had brought them here in the first place. Meanwhile, he was a King walking among Commoners.
He had no need to be here, he just decided that he wanted to.
And so he did.
Oh, the feeling, the feeling of power, he had the sensation now, it was coursing through his veins.
He had transcended everything he ever was before, he had transcended everyone.
Long Live The King.
The Man of Glass - Part I: "The Throne"
You, you are the final piece to the puzzle. Everyone that came before you, they were but a small portion of a greater plan. You on the other hand, you’re vital.
I’ve watched over you, and I know I’m not the first to have taken an interest in you. But none of them, none have utilized your full potential, I will be the one to change that.
You started along simply enough, nothing out of the ordinary. You were family first, even though your relationship with them gradually died and fell apart, you being rendered completely unable to stop it from happening.
Then, you reached glory. Your first time ever experiencing such a thing, you took a seat upon a throne. A small one, to be certain. You were but a Lord of a small area, while The World still loomed before you, ready to be taken.
That too, fell apart.
Now you do the bidding of another, and for what? He captured you, and now you work to make the genocide he carried out even more of a reality. Each potential enemy that could eventually come before him, you are swiftly beginning to take out.
Burnett, O’Neal, who next will you snuff out, before they can even begin to combat the tidal wave being launched by The King in Yellow?
I wonder what will happen to you once you’ve removed each and every enemy to the Throne of the 6ix God, I really do. Although I must admit, I already have an idea of what will occur next.
You, the Royal Protector to the 6ix God’s Throne, will become the hated enemy.
And then you, like everyone you butchered without remorse, will be summarily executed and left to rot in a pit of self-loathing and failure.
That will be the fate awaiting you, but I can change that.
But, you only have one chance, one shot to take the opportunity and begin disconnecting from the one ruling over that complex mind you once owned.
Right now, you have the Throne lined up for you. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even a year from now, but you will be seated their one day. The competition for that Throne currently? Fierce. Many are staking their claim to that top spot, it would not be in your best interest to climb toward it immediately.
Instead, I want you to bottle that emotion, that desire to be the greatest, and allow it to fester and in turn… grow into something more deadly than ever before.
And then, only then, will I cut you free from your chain, leaving you to cut a bloody swathe through the WCF, and the rest of The World along with it.
But only if you take my hand, and accept that I am the one that will lead you to your fate.
No King could ever do such a thing for you.
You need a God.
And here I am.
The Future King - Part II: "G.O.D"
He saw the glimmer in the eye of the receptionist, the slight change in demeanour the moment she looked up from her tedious administrative work. She typed away on her computer, while keeping her gaze locked upon the sauntering Ethan, who did not bother to return the demure smile from the blonde. Her smiled wavered as she noticed the look of indifference washed over Ethan’s features, which also caused her to blink rapidly, her blue eyes hiding and reappearing as her eyelids fluttered.
Did he not see her? Or did he just not care about her attempt at a friendly gesture? She wasn’t sure which one hurt more. With pursed lips, she took her hands away from her keyboard, turning around in her black swivelling chair to face Ethan directly.
“Hi, how may I be of assistance?”
Ethan felt his right eye twitch at the effrontery of the young woman, she should be inclining her head downward in reverence toward The Future King, not merely asking what he requests of someone of her low stature. Even so, he responded smoothly, his voice a calm and soothing tone as it rang throughout the otherwise silent foyer.
“I’ve been requested.”
The woman’s eyes lit up in recognition, a frown came over her, although it had not been deliberate. She lowered her voice instinctively, though she knew there were no-one close enough in vicinity to hear what either of them were saying.
“What code were you given?”
Ethan gave an exasperated sigh, could she not tell who he was by his appearance? He was clearly a cut-above everyone else that had walked through these doors prior to him, the fact that she could not evaluate this was impertinent. With an incoherent mumble of barely audible words, he fumbled within his trouser pocket momentarily, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper within, where he had previously written down the code while he was high. Upon glancing at the paper and the letters scrawled across it, he could feel the slightest pang of embarrassment at the fact that his cocaine impacted self could not remember the simple ordering of the letters. With an impassive tone, he spoke.
“G-O-D.”
He watched her eyes widen marginally, her mouth opening uncertainly before closing once more, nothing went unnoticed by The Future King.
“I take it you know who I’m looking for.”
She nodded, but said nothing. Impatient, he leaned forward, placing one hand on the desk before him, a charming, white-toothed smile appearing as his lips parted wide.
“And where would he be, exactly?”
For a moment, he feared he’d have to do more to encourage the woman to speak, but she eventually spun around in her seat, not willing to make eye contact anymore with the eminent figure that now stood before her. She pointed toward the elevator, a small hint of shaking evident in her hand as her index finger directed Ethan that way.
“Take the lift to the eighth floor. In the hallway, go through the middle the door. If he’s not there, check the right or left office, he can be found there.”
Ethan raised a hand in acknowledgement, his back already turned toward the receptionist, who watched his slim, athletic build, clung to by the light blue suit, retreat further and further from her, in the opposite direction she had pointed him to.
“Where are you going?” she said, calling out for him.
“I’m taking the stairs.
The Man of Glass - Part II: "Next In Line"
You’re growing nearer now, and I can feel the time arriving quicker than I ever anticipated. Everything I have built, everything I have created, everything I have worked for, all of it had been for someone like you. I hope you never get that mistaken, I really don’t.
This isn’t some sort of destiny you’re fulfilling, as much as you may believe in something like that. You’re the second attempt at something grand, something that couldn’t be achieved with the last one who filled the role you will now be taking by my side.
You’re an intriguing prospect though, I will admit. You are one of the few I’ve found within The World that can help my desire come into fruition.
Sure, I could do it on my own; but that would be no fun, now would it?
Not too far now, I can feel your presence, the blank stare that you’ve learned and perfected, the sauntering walk with the slow gait, intended to allow everyone to realize that you, yes you, Ethan, are the next in line to take the Throne.
And that reality… is even closer than you may have ever imagined.
The Future King - Part III: "A Favor For G.O.D"
Ethan King didn’t even bother to knock on the heavy wooden double door in the middle of the carpeted hallway, empty and devoid of even the most modest of décor. Had it been any other time, he may have mentally pointed out that fact, but now he had anticipation flowing through him. He had come here on nothing but a whim, a random choice made by a young man who could’ve done and achieved virtually anything he wanted to on that dreary Friday morning.
But a certain feeling had injected into him, the sharp sting of a needle penetrating into his mind and causing a sensation, one that told him either two things would come out of this next interaction.
Either death, or glory. The fact he couldn’t decipher which one it was only empowered him.
“I knew you were brash, but I didn’t expect you to come barging through my front door with that smug look on your face.”
The voice sounded far louder than it should’ve, considering that the man who spoke was turned away from Ethan, seated in a chair that covered his back and head completely, leaving him out of view from the young man stood in the doorway. The man’s feet were kicked up, the two black loafers pressed up against the glass giving an expansive view of the city of Los Angeles.
Ethan surveyed the room quickly, as he always did. Not only to gauge the man’s taste in fashion and aesthetic, but to ensure there were no potential threats to himself. Satisfied that there weren’t any, he adjusted his tie and moved forward, circling around a small bar toward the over-sized semi-circle glass desk that the man behind the chair sat behind.
“No drink? A shame, I would’ve expected someone of your taste to take appreciation in the fine selection I have.”
“Believe it or not, I didn’t come to have a drink.”
“Well, judging by your recent form, I would’ve thought different.”
Ethan hesitated, curious as to how the man had known about his recent ventures into the realm of waking up nearly every day with a hangover. He dismissed the thought almost immediately, he was young, it was a mere assumption on the part of the man, who was yet to turn around and face him.
“Never mind that, I suspect you received my invitation, then?”
“Turn and face me when you say that.”
The man chuckled.
“My apologies.”
He pushes off from the wall, using his feet to help send the chair spinning side-wards, with a delicate touch, the man presses his hand against the glass desk and grabs on lightly, stopping himself front and center before Ethan.
“Gavino Octavian Deltas, though I would much prefer you call me Gavin. I am honoured to make your acquaintance.”
His appearance catches Ethan off guard, a tall and athletic build. His hair is exceptional, a dark blonde undercut gelled to the side perfectly, as noted by Ethan, who subconsciously brushes up a loose strand that had fallen over his forehead during his climb up to the eighth floor of the office block. Gavin had a kindly smile, one that curved up in a way that most would never be unable to identify as false, besides Ethan, who could see it never reached his grey eyes. There was a glimmer there, yes, but it was a glimmer of interest, not of pleasure or kindliness. Suddenly on-guard, Ethan remained standing, hand pressed up against his suit, ensuring that the handgun he had placed in the inside pocket (another one of his habits now) was still there. Assured now that the weapon remained there in case the need arose, he forced a half-hearted smile, while bending down to a take a seat in front of the desk.
“I take it you received my invitation, did you have trouble finding the place?”
“Not at all.”
“Excellent. Well, let’s get down to it then, shall we?”
“Gladly.”
Gavin smiled courteously, before bringing his feet up onto his own desk, leaning back in a relaxed way. He seemed to be calculating what to say, his eyes piercing into Ethan’s, a lesser man would have wavered underneath the gaze, but Ethan remained steady.
“You fascinate me, Mister Atticio.”
“And how did I manage such an impressive feat?”
“You walked in here, mind racing, heart pumping, a feeling of adrenaline rushing through you that you haven’t felt in months. You carry a gun with you, you’re thinking of all the possibilities, all the ways this situation could hypothetically go down, and yet you show no sign of emotion, not even a hint of all of these complex thoughts and self-interactions imploding within your system.”
Ethan said nothing, as a pang of doubt flared within him.
“What also fascinates me, is how patient you are. You sensed danger in me from the very start, yet you haven’t shot me. That’s not the only example though, no. You currently sit behind the power of Jared Holmes, biding your time, waiting for your time to break free from his influence, which is slowly starting to slip. Once upon a time, you were but a mindless goon for the man. But each week, you come more and more into your own. Most by now would’ve taken their chance, but you? You’ve waited, and you will continue to wait until the right time arises – I am certain of it.”
“You’re well-informed aren’t you? Now tell me… who are you?”
“I told you already, I am Gavin. I’m a relatively well-known business man, although some have attempted to slander my reputation as of late due to the failure of their favourite businesses. I’ve been in a bit of strife, I must admit. A couple of complaints have been made, a few court cases here and there… I must say I’ve been quite the busy man as of late. How about yourself though, Ethan? Where do you go from here, when you’re stuck in such an uncertain position, a location that you’ve never been in before?”
He pauses, gauging the reaction of Ethan sitting across from him.
“You’ve never been without a goal. Sure, you have a mission currently, but it’s not one of your own creation. You are being told what to do, and you are doing it like the good little lap dog you are. But tell me… what is it that you really want?”
“…why do you want to know?”
“Because whatever it is, I can give it to you.”
Ethan’s eyes widen, Gavin smiles knowingly.
“As long as you do something for me in return.”
Death of a Scrub - Part II: "Ethan's Guide"
When I see a struggling talent in the WCF, I feel a little something trigger inside of me, you know? It pains me, knowing that no matter how hard these guys try to break out, they’re still going to be stuck in a perpetual rut, so Vinnie, I bring to you…
An official guide, written by the one, the only, Future King. Specialized just for you, Vinnie.
I’m worried you might be somewhat illiterate, considering you’re apart of Zero Tolerance and whatnot, but honestly I’d rather type this shit up than speak it to you. You’re lucky enough you get to step in the ring with someone of my calibre at Rise Up, you aren’t deserving of hearing my voice anymore. So, without further ado, let’s get started.
Tip #1: Make your promo flow.
Let’s get something straight here, Vinnie. When you’re airing a promo for the entire WCF to see, can you make sure it’s not disjointed as fuck? And yes, this is coming from a guy who since return has gone through numerous drug trips and dream sequences, and even through that my shit still has some sort of flow and meaning to it.
You on the other hand?
Just a bunch of countless interactions between you and your ‘inner self’. Great, because that’s what we all want to see. More exposition as to how he makes you do bad things that the ‘Good Vinnie’ would never do. If you didn’t know already, exposition needs to be done correctly, and not thrown out randomly every time you’re given the chance. Ease up, champ. You’ve still got to make a name for yourself before we actually start to give a fuck about why you do what you do, okay?
So those are the first words of advice. Make your shit at least a little watchable, at least try to generate some real intrigue from us instead of constantly using your shitty dual personal as a way to create a cheap sense of drama. The main feature of your promos can’t just be the two equally horrible Vinnie’s going at it with one another, try something new, try set yourself apart. This is especially important to someone like you, Vinnie, since you and the rest of Zero Tolerance are basically the same people at this point, save Jason Cash.
Tip #2: Don’t response shoot.
I saw you doing this shit a couple weeks back on Ryan, and I swear to god you fucking faggot if I air my promo first and you try to pull that shit on me, or if you ever do it on someone else in a different match, I will make it my personal duty to kick your head clean off your shoulders just as I did to Adam Burnett last week. And while we’re mentioning him, we might as well mention Jason O’Neal. Don’t be like him either, you’re already bland and unoriginal enough as it is, so I’d prefer if you didn’t go around trying to predict what other people are going to say before they say it.
Response shooting, predicting shoots, it doesn’t accomplish anything for you. It doesn’t make you seem more entertaining, it doesn’t make you seem like a threat, it just makes you appear as though you’re putting on a mighty façade of pseudo-intellectual bullshit that I’m going to rip through in minutes at Rise Up once I pound your head into the mat and leave you walking out of there with a brand new, third personality (oh god the horror).
And yes, this is now cannon, I am going to punt your fucking skull in and you’re going to come up with a third personality. Not bad Vinnie (regular Vinnie), or cringe-worthy Vinnie (evil Vinnie), but instead you’ll now have mediocre Vinnie. You can thank me later.
Or hopefully, if we’re even more lucky, I’ll rattle your brain so much with my boot that I’ll remove one of the personalities, at least then you wouldn’t be such a fucking drag.
Tip #3: Choose your company wisely.
You have aligned yourself with Zero Tolerance, I have already been through this before… but what the fuck were you thinking? If you weren’t going to already be eviscerated for your generic ass gimmick, then you basically guaranteed it by aligning yourself with these fuckwits. They are a walking joke, and while it’s true that you’re either on or below their level, at least you would’ve been able to save face by not having your reputation lowered even further as these dumbasses tumble further and further down the card.
There are much better people you could’ve chosen to work with. Sure, you wouldn’t have qualified for The Brotherhood, since I don’t think Kevin Bishop would even lower himself enough to take a schmuck like you, but you could’ve created your own faction with other people that were just as bad as you, maybe a group of guys that also had several personalities. You could be the Gemini Battle Fan Club or someth…
Oh…
I forgot.
My bad, dude. Carry on with what you’re doing, that Fan Club has already been formulated in the way of Zero Tolerance LMAO.
Hopefully that means I’ll be able to give you the Gemini Battle treatment once I’m through with you.
Tip #4: Know your strengths.
You are not a good wrestler, you do not have much prior wrestling experience. You have acknowledged this numerous times throughout your promos. You have one advantage in this match between us, you are a big and you are strong. That is the one thing you have over me and I expect you to use it to your full advantage.
Other than that, you do not out-perform me in any other aspect of wrestling, and I also expect you to realize this. I am giving you advice like this in regards to our match because if I don’t, this will go down as one of the biggest white-washes in WCF history. This will be worse than Jared Holmes v Sarah Twilight in the Trilogy Cup, or Pantheon v Team WCF at Helloween.
I am the most well-rounded, gifted athlete that has stepped into this ring since Joey Flash, I am a near unmatched striker and technical wrestler, and I know perfectly well how to use this all to my advantage. The only thing that qualifies as a weakness for me? My strength, and even then I’ll still be able to lift you up and break your fucking neck as I crush you into the canvas time and time again, should I feel I need to go to that length to further cement just how terrible you are in comparison to me.
The outcome of this match is unquestioned at this point, the only thing that’s left is to figure out how long you’re going to last in the ring with someone of my talent and ability. How long you actually do last, though? That comes down to you. Play to your strengths, I’m not going to be going at my hardest, not even close, so that gives you a few minutes to throw me around and do what you do best.
But I want you to struggle, I want you to try, I want you to give me a reason not to cruise through our match, I want you to give me a reason not to put in another half-assed effort. I can phone it in whenever I want and still come out successful on almost every occasion, so how do you propose you’ll push me to put in more effort?
Spoiler: You won’t.
There aren’t many that can.
Tip #5: Don’t take credit for things that aren’t yours.
Yes, I am now speaking directly to Evil Vinnie. Congratulations, you flailing spastic, I haven’t lumped the other half of your personality together and roasted the both of them into a burning pit of eternal fire. Feel proud, feel dignified, you are getting attention from me that you do not deserve.
Evil Vinnie, when the rest of your faction are the people holding the Trios Titles, it is basic courtesy that you don’t address the belts as ‘our’ belts. You did not hold one of those belts, this implies that you were talented and/or lucky enough to earn the belts yourself.
You are not, don’t ever suggest that you are, you are on relatively equal levels with ‘Good Vinnie’ who is arguably the worst member of a stable that has Jason Cash in it.
Remember that.
Those belts were won by the rest of Zero Tolerance in lucky circumstances, they had no real competition to give them a proper challenge. But even with that being true, there is no doubt in my mind that if you were to replace any one of the members of Zero Tolerance that actually won those belts, that you would’ve cost them terribly.
That is how much of a liability you are, and I don’t want you to ever forget that. Okay?
Good.
Tip #6: Don’t contradict yourself.
Don’t ridicule others for doing things that you yourself are doing. Now, I know this one might take a little for you to wrap your head around, but I’ll explain it as best I can.
You tried to attack Kevin Bishop by saying he aligned himself with people who didn’t matter.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
You. Are. With. Zero. Tolerance.
Name one person in that stable who matters, name one person in that stable who has even been regarded as a mid-tier talent besides Salem Shepard. Jason Cash’s only modicum of relevance is coming from the fact he is fighting a draw as big as Yung Adam, a match that someone like Cash doesn’t even deserve in the first place. Crazy J is still to this very moment getting steady killed by Andre Holmes, the only thing in his career that he will ever be known for is the fact that he choked on the biggest stage of them all at ONE, in the biggest match of his career, costing his team the Trios Titles by getting his ass pinned in the centre of the ring.
You tried to get on Bishop for saying he fought alongside people he didn’t matter, but by your own definition, you too are doing the exact same thing. The Brotherhood are arguably better than Zero Tolerance, they have more certified champion’s and people with at least a small amount of ‘potential’ to be decent performers at the mid-card level. Zero Tolerance on the other hand, has already peaked out, all of you have virtually no room left for you improvement, and you still don’t even manage to touch the surface of the upper-echelon of the WCF.
Which brings me to my final point.
Tip #7: Cut your losses.
You’ve already made so many mistakes during your short time with the WCF. You have no type of style or brand whatsoever, you also have nothing that resembles talent and cannot generate interest from an audience.
You are the number four option in a four-man stable, a stable that currently have less relevance than The Brotherhood, who are already dwindling in numbers and are slowly dying out.
Dying out, Vinnie. That’s what you should start thinking about yourself, about the possibility of you fading into obscurity and never coming back. You don’t stand a chance against me, and you don’t stand a chance in this World that you have now entered.
Cut your losses, accept what is already inevitable, that you don’t measure up against the men and monsters that roam this figurative Kingdom. The odds were stacked against you from the very start, and you’ve only managed to make them even worse through your short amount of time here.
So here’s my advice to you, end it all now, you useless cunt.
Whether that be through literally killing yourself, or disappearing like the rest of Zero Tolerance when they finally had a match that was worth something. You will not win this match, you should already expect this and be prepared to live with the consequences and the feeling of despair that come along with defeat, the feeling of being so dramatically out-classed that you felt powerless in comparison.
And after you’ve experienced all these emotions?
Fade away.
The say that the brightest stars burn out the fastest, but this is not the case for you.
Your light was too dim, right from the start of your little story. And now? It all ends in tragedy.
You were at one point the dying embers of hope for a renaissance for your little faction, and now… you’re nothing.
Nothing, forever and always.
Accept what is inevitable for you, Vinnie, there are no solutions for you.
Long Live The King.
“Vinnie Jones, where the fuck do I start with you, my dude? How about the fact that you’re hardly a month into your career here in the WCF, and you’ve already had to take a week off. Was last week a good rest for you? Are you up to your maximum capability? Are you ready to show The World that you alongside ZT are going to be a problem here for many months to come?
“Nah, fuck that noise. You aren’t about that shit, you never have been and you never will be. The odds are stacked against you and your boys and you’re already aware of this shit, that’s why you took last week off. You needed to be at your full potential, you’re not the most durable of competitors as you’ve already mentioned numerous times. I already know the game-plan from guys like you Vinnie, I can see exactly what you were seeing the week before the go-home show before Rise Up.
“You thought you’d be thrown a softball, an easy match to get your rookie momentum continuing, after all, besides your awful showing in your debut match, which was coupled with arguably one of the worst promotional videos I have ever seen in my lifetime, you’ve been relatively successful. Sure, all you’ve managed to do is make an unimpressive Adrian Archer tap, and been handed a win on a silver platter by Jason Cash in a tag match where you barely participated in, but other than that, you have done absolutely nothing of value here since your debut.
“But back to the point, you took the week off, hoping and praying that Seth would take it easy on you, that he’d give you a soft match-up that’d let you continue to rise your stock which at this point is one swift kick away from hitting rock bottom along with the rest of your crew in Zero Tolerance.
“Well, you see that rock bottom, Vinnie?
“You’re about to hit it.
“I want to apologize on behalf of Seth, man. Honestly, the man has already seen what I do to low card scrubs who think they can hang with me (shout out to Adam Burnett), and he decided to ignore that and put me in yet another low-card bout that ends with another fuccboi that ends up being completely overmatched. Unfortunately for you, Vinnie… you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, you’re that fuccboi, you’re that guy being overmatched, you’re that guy being thrown under the bus by an owner who was probably drunk and delirious as he was booking this match-up.
“But Vinnie, look on the bright side. This, this is your first real test since stepping into the WCF. Before this, you have never faced anyone of worth. Sure, you talked a lot of shit toward Kevin Bishop when you were scheduled to face against a Brotherhood team that he was leading into battle, but you never backed up that talk by stepping into the ring and actually facing down the man.
“But don’t worry, you can’t run away this time and hide from the challenge. This time around, you have to face it down and get bitch slapped to the canvas for your insolence. This time around, you get shown for the pretender that you really are. You can’t hide behind a tag team partner or two, you can’t hide behind a lesser competitor getting pinned in your place, like you did in your debut match. No, this time around, you face me. You will step into the most unwinnable match of your career, for now, and forever.
“I’d say this is your death sentence, your execution which you will not be able to return from, but I’d be lying. You already signed for your own death the moment you aligned yourself with Zero Tolerance, a faction that should already be on suicide watch after all the shit they’ve been put through recently. Jason Cash is being thoroughly buried and embarrassed by Adam Young, Crazy J is being murdered by Andre Holmes in a match that he never stood a chance in, and Salem Shepard, the only one in this shit-show of a stable that has any hope of reaching mediocrity, is nowhere to be found.
“Where does this leave you, Vinnie? It leaves you alone, stranded on an island. Unable to receive help from any of your so-called boys, if any of them are in their right mind, they aren’t going to run interference, unless they want to get their skulls fractured prior to their own personal matches. Nobody is going to come to save you from the butchering you’re about to receive.
“And the saddest part about it all? There’s nothing you can do about it.
“Sure, you can continue to run around with your uninspiring dual personality bullshit, just like Crazy J and Salem Shepard have. Unfortunately, you manage to make that even more cringe-worthy and unwatchable than both of them combined, so you don’t have much going for you in that regard either.
“Honestly though? This is some of the most run of the mill shit I’ve ever had to witness, rather than coming up with one interesting persona, you’ve decided to opt for two unbearable ones that nobody can be fucked watching. Crazy J already has his own little overdone shtick of having a good and bad side, although really I think by this point everyone can agree that there is no ‘good’ part about either of you guys and your multiple personalities. When it comes to that shit? Everything’s bad, it’s all utter trash and doesn’t belong anywhere near the WCF.
“Gemini Battle did it all better, and even he was subjected to never-ending ridicule and mockery. What makes Zero Talent, and you especially Vinnie, believe that you can make it work? Hopefully Seth can see through this overused bullshit and fire you all on the spot, and hey, it wouldn’t even really matter to you, would it Vinnie? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been kicked out of something. Remind you of anything?
“Oh yeah, your little basketball team. Had a bit of an implosion, did we? How fucking pathetic. Now you’re trying to pull that gimmick infringement shit on Kyle Kemp.
“Wait, no. Scratch that. That’s being disrespectful to Kyle Kemp. This is why you’re fucking terrible, Vinnie. You can’t even do being a failed athlete right, how in the world do you manage that?
“And I mean, if you can’t even compare to Kyle Kemp, who I am far more talented than, how do you match up? I well and truly am better than you, Vinnie.
“And there you have it, that’s how you infringe a gimmick while making a complete mockery of your opponent at the same time. Not only am I a megastar, not only am I more charismatic and skilled than you are, but I can rip another person’s gimmick better than you. I can rip Kyle Kemp’s shit and nobody will bat an eyelid because…
“1): I am giving his name more value, that’s what happens when you’re mentioned in an Ethan King promotion.
2): I am upgrading the worth of his most used phrase.
“Meanwhile, you’re over here ripping off of not only your own stablemates, but Gemini Battle, and you still can’t even weigh-in at that solid mid-card level yet, you’re still just coming in as enhancement talent for a future World Champion in myself.
“Seth’s already hitting me with that Joey Flash treatment, that prime-time Television Title Joey Flash treatment, to be specific. His logic is that he’ll throw a bunch of unworthy cunts at me, The Future King, in a game where he’ll wait and see how long it takes for me to beat down on the door of the main-event scene. And look at what that’s done for his federation, instead of building up the lower level talents and making them feel good about themselves, look what I’ve done to these low-end scrubs who thought they could box.
“Damian Kaine: Verbally murdered, quit the company mere weeks after I committed said murder.
“Adam Burnett: Killed, twice. Hasn’t had the same fire in his eyes since I doused said fire two weeks ago, now he’s going to get embarrassed by Sebastian Knight, and his once perfect record isn’t going to be looking so hot.
“Jason O’Neal: Murdered both verbally and mentally. Left him so shook by my last promo and my in-ring work that he was too scared to break up the winning pinfall that I landed on his partner, he was well aware of what would have happened had he put himself in my sights once again.
“This is the recurring theme throughout my career. I have been constantly lowballed by Seth, and even through that I have managed to put on brilliant performance after brilliant performance. Stealing shows, dropping pure ether that has left many of my competition questioning if they even belong in the federation even more. All of this has happened within only ten or so matches.
“For a solid eighty percent of this roster, the matches I have been put through in the short span of my career would be looked upon as a solid challenge, a good way to build momentum and make a name. But for me?
“This shit has been me playing on Rookie difficulty.
“This shit has been me doing what I do best, and making it look easy.
“This is me stepping through the ropes and making wrestling look like child’s play, against ‘world-class athletes.’
“My position on the card, the calibre of opposition I’ve been forced to face? It’s downright disrespectful, but I know how this story goes, I’ve seen it transpire time and time again. You, Vinnie, are just another man being thrown into the lion’s den, another sacrifice being used to raise my stock and reputation even higher than what it already is. You are the talentless hack being sacrificed this time around, and you are about to be promptly dealt with and sent packing even further down the card.
“Meanwhile, I’ll be left to continue doing what I’m already doing. I will continue to be denied the opportunities I am rightfully deserving of, as I keep killing low-end competition and conquer this new wave of talent that seem to think they belong here. I will do this until there is literally nothing left for me to do but to take my destined place at the top of the card, where I will remain for however long I please, until I feel my domination has run its course and there is nothing left for me to accomplish.
“This, Vinnie. This is what success looks like, this is what being a young, ultra-talented superstar with near limitless potential looks like. What I’m saying right now, what I’m talking about, my inevitable rise to the top of this company’s ranks… it’s complete arrogance on my behalf.
“But it’s also pure fact.
“It is the utmost confidence that I am greater and more fit to rule than nearly everybody else in this federation, there are few that remain who can stimulate me or give me any type of challenge. The sad reality about this? Most of these men, I am currently aligned with in some way or another due to my ‘connection’ with Jared Holmes.
“This spells disaster for people like you, Vinnie. I am your ceiling, I am the highest peak you will ever reach in your career, the peak that you will swiftly be knocked down from as I show you the overwhelming difference between our levels.
“And then? You will never rise and look me in the eye again, you are going to attempt to overcome the odds at Rise Up and you will be an example of. After that? You’ll linger around with the rest of Zero Tolerance, doing what you’re all bred for – being fed to the greater talents, while running rampant in the lower divisions. On this food chain? Your prey amounts to the Damian Kaine’s and Adrian Archer’s of this World.
“I, on the other hand, have much more to accomplish. Let it be known, Vinnie, that you will be the first to witness this ascent that I am about to go on.
“And that you will be the first victim, of many to come.”
The Future King - Part I: "Enter, The Eminent One."
Ethan walked through the front door with a swagger only a select few could ever hope to muster, he gave a subtle nod toward the suit-wearing doorman, not out of any respect for the man, but for the pity that his whole position in life had been relegated to opening the door for far more successful people, such as himself. He considered letting the man know that the orange bow-tie he wore, which in his expert opinion contrasted quite well with the black shirt he wore, was indeed crooked, tilted to a side that ruined the rest of the aesthetic, but thought against it – the doorman was grown and therefore should be responsible for his own appearance.
Ethan on the other hand? A fine example of what it meant to be a paragon in terms of fashion and style, although even he would admit he was wearing something quite simple in comparison to his usually extravagant outfits. A full light-blue skinny suit, the trousers and tie both matching the aforementioned colour, with brown leather shoes, all by Roger David. Although awfully cheap by his standards, he thought it appropriate for a place such as this, which in itself was hardly grand enough to hold someone of his standing in society.
Even so, he made it a point to ensure he donned his full-gold Dolce & Gabbana aviators, for none of the people present in this humble office block deserved to look him directly in the eye, and witness the coldness that was prominent within those two hazel circles.
And now that the thought entered his mind, he realized that he didn’t even need to be here, although he had been requested by an apparently wealthy business man with a hefty reputation within Los Angeles – not only for his success but the constant rumours that surrounded him in regards to the fate of his competition, who had an odd tendency to disappear or plummet to rock bottom the moment they became visible on his figurative radar.
Naturally, Ethan had researched about the man mere hours after being invited by him to this less than exquisite, generic office space. Even more naturally, Ethan had already forgotten everything he had found out after he had gone on another cocaine binge – a habit that was becoming more prominent by the day; not that it had become a cause for concern for the uber-talented young man.
The look of apathy that had begun to form in a scowl over Ethan’s face too was becoming more transparent, the longer he spent pacing towards the front reception of this short space that could hardly be called a lobby. It was a plain space that was home to one staircase, two elevators, a lifeless grey carpet and equally boring men and women who were seated, texting away aimlessly on their mobile devices, presumably awaiting some sort of appointment or meeting that they had deemed important enough to be in attendance for.
This sight was one that pleased Ethan, knowing that out of everyone here – he was the odd one out. He was the one who merely a week ago could’ve been found hungover, lonely and high in a small, run-down apartment that smelled like shit and held the heavy air of countless dreams which had been broken by the harsh reality of life. While he had been residing there, he could almost sense the type of people that had been living in that space before him, aspiring artists, writers and musicians, those types, all of them living small in Los Angeles, fighting to break out in a place that would never notice them, that would never give them the time of day to become the one thing they so desperately wanted to become. In that regard, he was different too. He was a walking success, only a few years after making the transition from boy to man, and he was the cream of the crop when it came to the talent that had come out of Los Angeles, California.
What a time to be alive.
This, however, was not the only way that he felt out of place in this scenario, as he strutted confidently toward the near-desolate front desk. Everyone else here had a purpose, they were required to be here, they had been coerced here by their own thoughts and feelings, and the duties of their unspectacular daily lives that had brought them here in the first place. Meanwhile, he was a King walking among Commoners.
He had no need to be here, he just decided that he wanted to.
And so he did.
Oh, the feeling, the feeling of power, he had the sensation now, it was coursing through his veins.
He had transcended everything he ever was before, he had transcended everyone.
Long Live The King.
The Man of Glass - Part I: "The Throne"
You, you are the final piece to the puzzle. Everyone that came before you, they were but a small portion of a greater plan. You on the other hand, you’re vital.
I’ve watched over you, and I know I’m not the first to have taken an interest in you. But none of them, none have utilized your full potential, I will be the one to change that.
You started along simply enough, nothing out of the ordinary. You were family first, even though your relationship with them gradually died and fell apart, you being rendered completely unable to stop it from happening.
Then, you reached glory. Your first time ever experiencing such a thing, you took a seat upon a throne. A small one, to be certain. You were but a Lord of a small area, while The World still loomed before you, ready to be taken.
That too, fell apart.
Now you do the bidding of another, and for what? He captured you, and now you work to make the genocide he carried out even more of a reality. Each potential enemy that could eventually come before him, you are swiftly beginning to take out.
Burnett, O’Neal, who next will you snuff out, before they can even begin to combat the tidal wave being launched by The King in Yellow?
I wonder what will happen to you once you’ve removed each and every enemy to the Throne of the 6ix God, I really do. Although I must admit, I already have an idea of what will occur next.
You, the Royal Protector to the 6ix God’s Throne, will become the hated enemy.
And then you, like everyone you butchered without remorse, will be summarily executed and left to rot in a pit of self-loathing and failure.
That will be the fate awaiting you, but I can change that.
But, you only have one chance, one shot to take the opportunity and begin disconnecting from the one ruling over that complex mind you once owned.
Right now, you have the Throne lined up for you. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even a year from now, but you will be seated their one day. The competition for that Throne currently? Fierce. Many are staking their claim to that top spot, it would not be in your best interest to climb toward it immediately.
Instead, I want you to bottle that emotion, that desire to be the greatest, and allow it to fester and in turn… grow into something more deadly than ever before.
And then, only then, will I cut you free from your chain, leaving you to cut a bloody swathe through the WCF, and the rest of The World along with it.
But only if you take my hand, and accept that I am the one that will lead you to your fate.
No King could ever do such a thing for you.
You need a God.
And here I am.
The Future King - Part II: "G.O.D"
He saw the glimmer in the eye of the receptionist, the slight change in demeanour the moment she looked up from her tedious administrative work. She typed away on her computer, while keeping her gaze locked upon the sauntering Ethan, who did not bother to return the demure smile from the blonde. Her smiled wavered as she noticed the look of indifference washed over Ethan’s features, which also caused her to blink rapidly, her blue eyes hiding and reappearing as her eyelids fluttered.
Did he not see her? Or did he just not care about her attempt at a friendly gesture? She wasn’t sure which one hurt more. With pursed lips, she took her hands away from her keyboard, turning around in her black swivelling chair to face Ethan directly.
“Hi, how may I be of assistance?”
Ethan felt his right eye twitch at the effrontery of the young woman, she should be inclining her head downward in reverence toward The Future King, not merely asking what he requests of someone of her low stature. Even so, he responded smoothly, his voice a calm and soothing tone as it rang throughout the otherwise silent foyer.
“I’ve been requested.”
The woman’s eyes lit up in recognition, a frown came over her, although it had not been deliberate. She lowered her voice instinctively, though she knew there were no-one close enough in vicinity to hear what either of them were saying.
“What code were you given?”
Ethan gave an exasperated sigh, could she not tell who he was by his appearance? He was clearly a cut-above everyone else that had walked through these doors prior to him, the fact that she could not evaluate this was impertinent. With an incoherent mumble of barely audible words, he fumbled within his trouser pocket momentarily, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper within, where he had previously written down the code while he was high. Upon glancing at the paper and the letters scrawled across it, he could feel the slightest pang of embarrassment at the fact that his cocaine impacted self could not remember the simple ordering of the letters. With an impassive tone, he spoke.
“G-O-D.”
He watched her eyes widen marginally, her mouth opening uncertainly before closing once more, nothing went unnoticed by The Future King.
“I take it you know who I’m looking for.”
She nodded, but said nothing. Impatient, he leaned forward, placing one hand on the desk before him, a charming, white-toothed smile appearing as his lips parted wide.
“And where would he be, exactly?”
For a moment, he feared he’d have to do more to encourage the woman to speak, but she eventually spun around in her seat, not willing to make eye contact anymore with the eminent figure that now stood before her. She pointed toward the elevator, a small hint of shaking evident in her hand as her index finger directed Ethan that way.
“Take the lift to the eighth floor. In the hallway, go through the middle the door. If he’s not there, check the right or left office, he can be found there.”
Ethan raised a hand in acknowledgement, his back already turned toward the receptionist, who watched his slim, athletic build, clung to by the light blue suit, retreat further and further from her, in the opposite direction she had pointed him to.
“Where are you going?” she said, calling out for him.
“I’m taking the stairs.
The Man of Glass - Part II: "Next In Line"
You’re growing nearer now, and I can feel the time arriving quicker than I ever anticipated. Everything I have built, everything I have created, everything I have worked for, all of it had been for someone like you. I hope you never get that mistaken, I really don’t.
This isn’t some sort of destiny you’re fulfilling, as much as you may believe in something like that. You’re the second attempt at something grand, something that couldn’t be achieved with the last one who filled the role you will now be taking by my side.
You’re an intriguing prospect though, I will admit. You are one of the few I’ve found within The World that can help my desire come into fruition.
Sure, I could do it on my own; but that would be no fun, now would it?
Not too far now, I can feel your presence, the blank stare that you’ve learned and perfected, the sauntering walk with the slow gait, intended to allow everyone to realize that you, yes you, Ethan, are the next in line to take the Throne.
And that reality… is even closer than you may have ever imagined.
The Future King - Part III: "A Favor For G.O.D"
Ethan King didn’t even bother to knock on the heavy wooden double door in the middle of the carpeted hallway, empty and devoid of even the most modest of décor. Had it been any other time, he may have mentally pointed out that fact, but now he had anticipation flowing through him. He had come here on nothing but a whim, a random choice made by a young man who could’ve done and achieved virtually anything he wanted to on that dreary Friday morning.
But a certain feeling had injected into him, the sharp sting of a needle penetrating into his mind and causing a sensation, one that told him either two things would come out of this next interaction.
Either death, or glory. The fact he couldn’t decipher which one it was only empowered him.
“I knew you were brash, but I didn’t expect you to come barging through my front door with that smug look on your face.”
The voice sounded far louder than it should’ve, considering that the man who spoke was turned away from Ethan, seated in a chair that covered his back and head completely, leaving him out of view from the young man stood in the doorway. The man’s feet were kicked up, the two black loafers pressed up against the glass giving an expansive view of the city of Los Angeles.
Ethan surveyed the room quickly, as he always did. Not only to gauge the man’s taste in fashion and aesthetic, but to ensure there were no potential threats to himself. Satisfied that there weren’t any, he adjusted his tie and moved forward, circling around a small bar toward the over-sized semi-circle glass desk that the man behind the chair sat behind.
“No drink? A shame, I would’ve expected someone of your taste to take appreciation in the fine selection I have.”
“Believe it or not, I didn’t come to have a drink.”
“Well, judging by your recent form, I would’ve thought different.”
Ethan hesitated, curious as to how the man had known about his recent ventures into the realm of waking up nearly every day with a hangover. He dismissed the thought almost immediately, he was young, it was a mere assumption on the part of the man, who was yet to turn around and face him.
“Never mind that, I suspect you received my invitation, then?”
“Turn and face me when you say that.”
The man chuckled.
“My apologies.”
He pushes off from the wall, using his feet to help send the chair spinning side-wards, with a delicate touch, the man presses his hand against the glass desk and grabs on lightly, stopping himself front and center before Ethan.
“Gavino Octavian Deltas, though I would much prefer you call me Gavin. I am honoured to make your acquaintance.”
His appearance catches Ethan off guard, a tall and athletic build. His hair is exceptional, a dark blonde undercut gelled to the side perfectly, as noted by Ethan, who subconsciously brushes up a loose strand that had fallen over his forehead during his climb up to the eighth floor of the office block. Gavin had a kindly smile, one that curved up in a way that most would never be unable to identify as false, besides Ethan, who could see it never reached his grey eyes. There was a glimmer there, yes, but it was a glimmer of interest, not of pleasure or kindliness. Suddenly on-guard, Ethan remained standing, hand pressed up against his suit, ensuring that the handgun he had placed in the inside pocket (another one of his habits now) was still there. Assured now that the weapon remained there in case the need arose, he forced a half-hearted smile, while bending down to a take a seat in front of the desk.
“I take it you received my invitation, did you have trouble finding the place?”
“Not at all.”
“Excellent. Well, let’s get down to it then, shall we?”
“Gladly.”
Gavin smiled courteously, before bringing his feet up onto his own desk, leaning back in a relaxed way. He seemed to be calculating what to say, his eyes piercing into Ethan’s, a lesser man would have wavered underneath the gaze, but Ethan remained steady.
“You fascinate me, Mister Atticio.”
“And how did I manage such an impressive feat?”
“You walked in here, mind racing, heart pumping, a feeling of adrenaline rushing through you that you haven’t felt in months. You carry a gun with you, you’re thinking of all the possibilities, all the ways this situation could hypothetically go down, and yet you show no sign of emotion, not even a hint of all of these complex thoughts and self-interactions imploding within your system.”
Ethan said nothing, as a pang of doubt flared within him.
“What also fascinates me, is how patient you are. You sensed danger in me from the very start, yet you haven’t shot me. That’s not the only example though, no. You currently sit behind the power of Jared Holmes, biding your time, waiting for your time to break free from his influence, which is slowly starting to slip. Once upon a time, you were but a mindless goon for the man. But each week, you come more and more into your own. Most by now would’ve taken their chance, but you? You’ve waited, and you will continue to wait until the right time arises – I am certain of it.”
“You’re well-informed aren’t you? Now tell me… who are you?”
“I told you already, I am Gavin. I’m a relatively well-known business man, although some have attempted to slander my reputation as of late due to the failure of their favourite businesses. I’ve been in a bit of strife, I must admit. A couple of complaints have been made, a few court cases here and there… I must say I’ve been quite the busy man as of late. How about yourself though, Ethan? Where do you go from here, when you’re stuck in such an uncertain position, a location that you’ve never been in before?”
He pauses, gauging the reaction of Ethan sitting across from him.
“You’ve never been without a goal. Sure, you have a mission currently, but it’s not one of your own creation. You are being told what to do, and you are doing it like the good little lap dog you are. But tell me… what is it that you really want?”
“…why do you want to know?”
“Because whatever it is, I can give it to you.”
Ethan’s eyes widen, Gavin smiles knowingly.
“As long as you do something for me in return.”
Death of a Scrub - Part II: "Ethan's Guide"
When I see a struggling talent in the WCF, I feel a little something trigger inside of me, you know? It pains me, knowing that no matter how hard these guys try to break out, they’re still going to be stuck in a perpetual rut, so Vinnie, I bring to you…
An official guide, written by the one, the only, Future King. Specialized just for you, Vinnie.
I’m worried you might be somewhat illiterate, considering you’re apart of Zero Tolerance and whatnot, but honestly I’d rather type this shit up than speak it to you. You’re lucky enough you get to step in the ring with someone of my calibre at Rise Up, you aren’t deserving of hearing my voice anymore. So, without further ado, let’s get started.
Tip #1: Make your promo flow.
Let’s get something straight here, Vinnie. When you’re airing a promo for the entire WCF to see, can you make sure it’s not disjointed as fuck? And yes, this is coming from a guy who since return has gone through numerous drug trips and dream sequences, and even through that my shit still has some sort of flow and meaning to it.
You on the other hand?
Just a bunch of countless interactions between you and your ‘inner self’. Great, because that’s what we all want to see. More exposition as to how he makes you do bad things that the ‘Good Vinnie’ would never do. If you didn’t know already, exposition needs to be done correctly, and not thrown out randomly every time you’re given the chance. Ease up, champ. You’ve still got to make a name for yourself before we actually start to give a fuck about why you do what you do, okay?
So those are the first words of advice. Make your shit at least a little watchable, at least try to generate some real intrigue from us instead of constantly using your shitty dual personal as a way to create a cheap sense of drama. The main feature of your promos can’t just be the two equally horrible Vinnie’s going at it with one another, try something new, try set yourself apart. This is especially important to someone like you, Vinnie, since you and the rest of Zero Tolerance are basically the same people at this point, save Jason Cash.
Tip #2: Don’t response shoot.
I saw you doing this shit a couple weeks back on Ryan, and I swear to god you fucking faggot if I air my promo first and you try to pull that shit on me, or if you ever do it on someone else in a different match, I will make it my personal duty to kick your head clean off your shoulders just as I did to Adam Burnett last week. And while we’re mentioning him, we might as well mention Jason O’Neal. Don’t be like him either, you’re already bland and unoriginal enough as it is, so I’d prefer if you didn’t go around trying to predict what other people are going to say before they say it.
Response shooting, predicting shoots, it doesn’t accomplish anything for you. It doesn’t make you seem more entertaining, it doesn’t make you seem like a threat, it just makes you appear as though you’re putting on a mighty façade of pseudo-intellectual bullshit that I’m going to rip through in minutes at Rise Up once I pound your head into the mat and leave you walking out of there with a brand new, third personality (oh god the horror).
And yes, this is now cannon, I am going to punt your fucking skull in and you’re going to come up with a third personality. Not bad Vinnie (regular Vinnie), or cringe-worthy Vinnie (evil Vinnie), but instead you’ll now have mediocre Vinnie. You can thank me later.
Or hopefully, if we’re even more lucky, I’ll rattle your brain so much with my boot that I’ll remove one of the personalities, at least then you wouldn’t be such a fucking drag.
Tip #3: Choose your company wisely.
You have aligned yourself with Zero Tolerance, I have already been through this before… but what the fuck were you thinking? If you weren’t going to already be eviscerated for your generic ass gimmick, then you basically guaranteed it by aligning yourself with these fuckwits. They are a walking joke, and while it’s true that you’re either on or below their level, at least you would’ve been able to save face by not having your reputation lowered even further as these dumbasses tumble further and further down the card.
There are much better people you could’ve chosen to work with. Sure, you wouldn’t have qualified for The Brotherhood, since I don’t think Kevin Bishop would even lower himself enough to take a schmuck like you, but you could’ve created your own faction with other people that were just as bad as you, maybe a group of guys that also had several personalities. You could be the Gemini Battle Fan Club or someth…
Oh…
I forgot.
My bad, dude. Carry on with what you’re doing, that Fan Club has already been formulated in the way of Zero Tolerance LMAO.
Hopefully that means I’ll be able to give you the Gemini Battle treatment once I’m through with you.
Tip #4: Know your strengths.
You are not a good wrestler, you do not have much prior wrestling experience. You have acknowledged this numerous times throughout your promos. You have one advantage in this match between us, you are a big and you are strong. That is the one thing you have over me and I expect you to use it to your full advantage.
Other than that, you do not out-perform me in any other aspect of wrestling, and I also expect you to realize this. I am giving you advice like this in regards to our match because if I don’t, this will go down as one of the biggest white-washes in WCF history. This will be worse than Jared Holmes v Sarah Twilight in the Trilogy Cup, or Pantheon v Team WCF at Helloween.
I am the most well-rounded, gifted athlete that has stepped into this ring since Joey Flash, I am a near unmatched striker and technical wrestler, and I know perfectly well how to use this all to my advantage. The only thing that qualifies as a weakness for me? My strength, and even then I’ll still be able to lift you up and break your fucking neck as I crush you into the canvas time and time again, should I feel I need to go to that length to further cement just how terrible you are in comparison to me.
The outcome of this match is unquestioned at this point, the only thing that’s left is to figure out how long you’re going to last in the ring with someone of my talent and ability. How long you actually do last, though? That comes down to you. Play to your strengths, I’m not going to be going at my hardest, not even close, so that gives you a few minutes to throw me around and do what you do best.
But I want you to struggle, I want you to try, I want you to give me a reason not to cruise through our match, I want you to give me a reason not to put in another half-assed effort. I can phone it in whenever I want and still come out successful on almost every occasion, so how do you propose you’ll push me to put in more effort?
Spoiler: You won’t.
There aren’t many that can.
Tip #5: Don’t take credit for things that aren’t yours.
Yes, I am now speaking directly to Evil Vinnie. Congratulations, you flailing spastic, I haven’t lumped the other half of your personality together and roasted the both of them into a burning pit of eternal fire. Feel proud, feel dignified, you are getting attention from me that you do not deserve.
Evil Vinnie, when the rest of your faction are the people holding the Trios Titles, it is basic courtesy that you don’t address the belts as ‘our’ belts. You did not hold one of those belts, this implies that you were talented and/or lucky enough to earn the belts yourself.
You are not, don’t ever suggest that you are, you are on relatively equal levels with ‘Good Vinnie’ who is arguably the worst member of a stable that has Jason Cash in it.
Remember that.
Those belts were won by the rest of Zero Tolerance in lucky circumstances, they had no real competition to give them a proper challenge. But even with that being true, there is no doubt in my mind that if you were to replace any one of the members of Zero Tolerance that actually won those belts, that you would’ve cost them terribly.
That is how much of a liability you are, and I don’t want you to ever forget that. Okay?
Good.
Tip #6: Don’t contradict yourself.
Don’t ridicule others for doing things that you yourself are doing. Now, I know this one might take a little for you to wrap your head around, but I’ll explain it as best I can.
You tried to attack Kevin Bishop by saying he aligned himself with people who didn’t matter.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
You. Are. With. Zero. Tolerance.
Name one person in that stable who matters, name one person in that stable who has even been regarded as a mid-tier talent besides Salem Shepard. Jason Cash’s only modicum of relevance is coming from the fact he is fighting a draw as big as Yung Adam, a match that someone like Cash doesn’t even deserve in the first place. Crazy J is still to this very moment getting steady killed by Andre Holmes, the only thing in his career that he will ever be known for is the fact that he choked on the biggest stage of them all at ONE, in the biggest match of his career, costing his team the Trios Titles by getting his ass pinned in the centre of the ring.
You tried to get on Bishop for saying he fought alongside people he didn’t matter, but by your own definition, you too are doing the exact same thing. The Brotherhood are arguably better than Zero Tolerance, they have more certified champion’s and people with at least a small amount of ‘potential’ to be decent performers at the mid-card level. Zero Tolerance on the other hand, has already peaked out, all of you have virtually no room left for you improvement, and you still don’t even manage to touch the surface of the upper-echelon of the WCF.
Which brings me to my final point.
Tip #7: Cut your losses.
You’ve already made so many mistakes during your short time with the WCF. You have no type of style or brand whatsoever, you also have nothing that resembles talent and cannot generate interest from an audience.
You are the number four option in a four-man stable, a stable that currently have less relevance than The Brotherhood, who are already dwindling in numbers and are slowly dying out.
Dying out, Vinnie. That’s what you should start thinking about yourself, about the possibility of you fading into obscurity and never coming back. You don’t stand a chance against me, and you don’t stand a chance in this World that you have now entered.
Cut your losses, accept what is already inevitable, that you don’t measure up against the men and monsters that roam this figurative Kingdom. The odds were stacked against you from the very start, and you’ve only managed to make them even worse through your short amount of time here.
So here’s my advice to you, end it all now, you useless cunt.
Whether that be through literally killing yourself, or disappearing like the rest of Zero Tolerance when they finally had a match that was worth something. You will not win this match, you should already expect this and be prepared to live with the consequences and the feeling of despair that come along with defeat, the feeling of being so dramatically out-classed that you felt powerless in comparison.
And after you’ve experienced all these emotions?
Fade away.
The say that the brightest stars burn out the fastest, but this is not the case for you.
Your light was too dim, right from the start of your little story. And now? It all ends in tragedy.
You were at one point the dying embers of hope for a renaissance for your little faction, and now… you’re nothing.
Nothing, forever and always.
Accept what is inevitable for you, Vinnie, there are no solutions for you.
Long Live The King.