Post by FPV on Dec 27, 2015 17:30:31 GMT -5
STAPLES CENTER - DEC. 27, 2015 - DAY
It’s the morning of WCF ONE, and already the feeling of excitement is in the air. People are already beginning to show up to the Staples Center for all the pre show fun. Away from all of this, VIC VENABLE watches from afar, detached from the
crowd.
Fade.
It’s the morning of WCF ONE, and already the feeling of excitement is in the air. People are already beginning to show up to the Staples Center for all the pre show fun. Away from all of this, VIC VENABLE watches from afar, detached from the
crowd.
VIC
You know, the more I look at how excited these people are, how pumped they are for the biggest show of the year, it makes me wish in some weird way I could be like them. Just a fan of good old fashioned pro wrestling, not some convict turned wrestler. These fans...as much as they love the product, they will never understand the scope of what we put our minds and bodies through to entertain them. That’s a stone cold fact. And the match I’m about to walk into tonight, Tables, Ladders and Chairs, that shit’s gonna be the closest thing to hell on Earth this side of Detroit. Limbs will be broken, careers could potentially end, blood will be spilt. It comes with the territory.
I won’t lie and say I’ve had a peachy clean year. No, the best word I could use to describe this year would be...eventful. All that Cappo business, my re-debut to WCF, the formation of The People’s Choice, it’s all been a wild ride. And along the way I’ve had pain inflicted on me the likes of which I have never felt before, I’ve been insulted on national TV and all across the internet, and I’ve had probably my closest friend since I was a kid betray me and sell me out to my enemies. But I’ve also felt the absolute satisfaction of ripping the tag team titles away from #BeachKrewe by their own dirty means, and I’ve met two men who I’d easily call my closest friends in this entire business.
And tonight, I step in that ring to nab those Tag Belts one more time with Spencer. And all that pain, all that suffering I’ve felt this year? When I walk out on the entrance ramp tonight, I’m gonna make all of that stuff worth something.
Believe that shit.
Preecha, you stand there tall and silent, and you let your buddy Armand do all the talking for ya, but deep down inside, the both of you know you can’t win. You’re a disorganized team, you and Patrilli. The two of you can’t see eye to eye on anything. You guys are out of sync? Spencer and I? Shiiiiiiiiit, we got this thing on lockstep. No way you can take us off our game. That Muay Thai boxing won’t do you any good when you got two guys on you while your buddy is nowhere to be
found. There’s no chance in hell that you two will win.
But if you guys have no chance in hell, then Raymond Hatcher and Adam Young have no chance in HEEEEEEEEEEELLLL of winning. Why? Because Raymond’s gonna be weighed down by the Albatross of the WCF himself. If I know anything about Adam Young, it’s that he doesn’t mesh well with others who aren’t either his close buddy or a relative. As far as I know Raymond isn’t either of those things. I see you two working about as well together as peanut butter and olive oil. I’d argue that Raymond has the least to lose going into this match simply because everyone knows he won’t win, but I’m gonna make damn
sure he doesn’t gain anything either.
And then there’s the big one. Johnny fucking Rabid. The man who stole the Tag titles away from Spencer and I. Tsk tsk fucking tsk. When will you #BeachKrewe fucks learn that crime never pays? I know that’s some shit Teo would say, but it’s the truth. I haven’t forgotten about that night you and Kemp took the gold from us. I’ve been reliving that night in my head, using it as fuel for the fire. It’s made me determined, it’s made me push myself further. It’s made me fucking hate your guts. And tonight, after so long Johnny, I’m finally gonna give you what you’ve got coming to you.
You think you got this shit on lock? You can think that all you want. But I can guaran-damn-tee you that once Teo is done with Kyle at the top of the show he’ll be nothing more than a walking puddle of flesh and bone by the time he comes out that curtain. And you certainly can’t cheat your way out of this one. No rules, mate. Only rule is to grab the belts. I’mma tell you right now I’m going for the legs, Rabid. I’m gonna go for the legs and shatter them so hard there will be no way for you to climb that ladder. So you can continue to shit talk us all you want, go on and on about how the people didn’t choose us. You’ll be eating those words Monday morning, cunt.
The People’s Choice stands poised to capture the Tag Team titles back and in doing so lay claim to no less than SIX belts. Think about that, SIX FUCKING BELTS. It’s been our little mantra as we head into One. Six fucking belts. I’m walking into this Trios Champ, and you can be damn sure I’m walking out of it Double Champion once again. Believe that shit.
You know, the more I look at how excited these people are, how pumped they are for the biggest show of the year, it makes me wish in some weird way I could be like them. Just a fan of good old fashioned pro wrestling, not some convict turned wrestler. These fans...as much as they love the product, they will never understand the scope of what we put our minds and bodies through to entertain them. That’s a stone cold fact. And the match I’m about to walk into tonight, Tables, Ladders and Chairs, that shit’s gonna be the closest thing to hell on Earth this side of Detroit. Limbs will be broken, careers could potentially end, blood will be spilt. It comes with the territory.
I won’t lie and say I’ve had a peachy clean year. No, the best word I could use to describe this year would be...eventful. All that Cappo business, my re-debut to WCF, the formation of The People’s Choice, it’s all been a wild ride. And along the way I’ve had pain inflicted on me the likes of which I have never felt before, I’ve been insulted on national TV and all across the internet, and I’ve had probably my closest friend since I was a kid betray me and sell me out to my enemies. But I’ve also felt the absolute satisfaction of ripping the tag team titles away from #BeachKrewe by their own dirty means, and I’ve met two men who I’d easily call my closest friends in this entire business.
And tonight, I step in that ring to nab those Tag Belts one more time with Spencer. And all that pain, all that suffering I’ve felt this year? When I walk out on the entrance ramp tonight, I’m gonna make all of that stuff worth something.
Believe that shit.
Preecha, you stand there tall and silent, and you let your buddy Armand do all the talking for ya, but deep down inside, the both of you know you can’t win. You’re a disorganized team, you and Patrilli. The two of you can’t see eye to eye on anything. You guys are out of sync? Spencer and I? Shiiiiiiiiit, we got this thing on lockstep. No way you can take us off our game. That Muay Thai boxing won’t do you any good when you got two guys on you while your buddy is nowhere to be
found. There’s no chance in hell that you two will win.
But if you guys have no chance in hell, then Raymond Hatcher and Adam Young have no chance in HEEEEEEEEEEELLLL of winning. Why? Because Raymond’s gonna be weighed down by the Albatross of the WCF himself. If I know anything about Adam Young, it’s that he doesn’t mesh well with others who aren’t either his close buddy or a relative. As far as I know Raymond isn’t either of those things. I see you two working about as well together as peanut butter and olive oil. I’d argue that Raymond has the least to lose going into this match simply because everyone knows he won’t win, but I’m gonna make damn
sure he doesn’t gain anything either.
And then there’s the big one. Johnny fucking Rabid. The man who stole the Tag titles away from Spencer and I. Tsk tsk fucking tsk. When will you #BeachKrewe fucks learn that crime never pays? I know that’s some shit Teo would say, but it’s the truth. I haven’t forgotten about that night you and Kemp took the gold from us. I’ve been reliving that night in my head, using it as fuel for the fire. It’s made me determined, it’s made me push myself further. It’s made me fucking hate your guts. And tonight, after so long Johnny, I’m finally gonna give you what you’ve got coming to you.
You think you got this shit on lock? You can think that all you want. But I can guaran-damn-tee you that once Teo is done with Kyle at the top of the show he’ll be nothing more than a walking puddle of flesh and bone by the time he comes out that curtain. And you certainly can’t cheat your way out of this one. No rules, mate. Only rule is to grab the belts. I’mma tell you right now I’m going for the legs, Rabid. I’m gonna go for the legs and shatter them so hard there will be no way for you to climb that ladder. So you can continue to shit talk us all you want, go on and on about how the people didn’t choose us. You’ll be eating those words Monday morning, cunt.
The People’s Choice stands poised to capture the Tag Team titles back and in doing so lay claim to no less than SIX belts. Think about that, SIX FUCKING BELTS. It’s been our little mantra as we head into One. Six fucking belts. I’m walking into this Trios Champ, and you can be damn sure I’m walking out of it Double Champion once again. Believe that shit.
Fade.
