Post by Stuart Slane on Feb 7, 2016 14:32:33 GMT -5
Besting “The Best”
January 31, 2016 (Sunday)
The WCF Jobber Locker Room
Wells Fargo Arena
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Stuart Slane did not look well.
He was sweating, despite the fact his (successful) Television Title defense had ended nearly half an hour ago, and his complexion wan. His normally perfect posture was currently anything but; as he was hunched forward in the metal folding chair he had placed directly in front of the flat screen TV that was showing the live feed of WCF’s Fifteen Pay Per View. With glazed, unfocused eyes Stuart struggled to observe the match that, besides his own, was the most important on the card to him.
NOTE: All text in brackets was authored by Jay Omega, not myself, and as thus should not be judged as part of my actual role play.
[Black dives forward and hits Fly with a chop block to the front of the knee, sending him flipping forward. Jonny lays on the ground, clutching his leg, and Black locks onto the injury, twisting Fly's leg around his. Jonny sees the move coming though, and quickly pulls himself away before Black can fully apply it. Fly grabs the bottom rope, and uses it to pull himself to the outside. Corey yells at him to get back in, but Jonny gives himself a breather as he takes a lap around the ring. Black gets fed up with Jonny's stalling, and steps out onto the apron intent on-]
“Stuart?”
Doctor Fabian Kaye, “gimmick guru”, approached his one-time patient. Slane ignored him.
The portly little man with the Chevron mustache moved to stand in front of the TV screen, “Stuart?”
“I’m watching this.”
Fabian examined Slane’s face and stance, “Are you alright? You look, well, like you’ve had your bell rung.”
“Move aside, please.”
The psychiatrist did as asked. Finding a chair of his own he sidled alongside Slane and sat, “Stuart, I believe you might be suffering from a concussion. You probably need to be examined.”
“Later,” the big man grunted as he turned what attention he could muster back to the show.
[Fly's arms thrash in the air as he tries to throw Black off of him. Corey jumps up and wraps his legs around the midsection of Fly as he tightens the sleeper hold. The referee checks on Fly who waves him off as he tries to grab hold of Black's hair to pull him off. The referee gives him a warning about pulling the hair as Corey yells out in pain. With Black refusing to be thrown off, Fly stumbles over to the corner, spins around and tries to ram him back first into the turnbuckles. Corey crashes back first into the corner, but refuses to let go. Jonny drives him into the turnbuckle again, then a third time, and finally-]
“I appreciate you taking my advice, Stuart,” Fabian Kaye told him.
“What?”
“About your own match. Pinning Andre Holmes after KL Henson attacked him.”
Slane turned his head to glare at the pudgy therapist, “What are you talking about?”
“At our consultation? I suggested you consider adopting a more, ah, ‘values neutral’ persona, in order to gain more traction with the WCF fan base. Taking advantage of Holmes’s misfortune was the perfect way to do just that.”
The current Television Champion did recall their conversation where Doctor Kaye suggested he ‘turn tweener’. As for the rest, “KL Henson interfered in my match?!”
“He bushwhacked Andre Holmes, delivered him to you on a silver platter, and then crowed about it afterwards, right in the ring,” now it was Fabian’s turn to look incredulous, “Are you trying to say you don’t remember how you kept the title?”
Stuart looked down at the gold plated belt that was draped across his lap, “I thought- the referee had Holmes. My attention was diverted; I expected Dustin Beaver to recover faster; I was anticipating an attack from him.”
Dr. Fabian Kaye’s puzzlement quickly dissipated once he had heard Slane’s defense, “Ah, I see. You were distracted. You no idea that the fix was in. Smart, Stuart, very smart. And this-”
He waved his hands in front of Stuart, gesticulating to his appearance and demeanor his in toto.
“-is very convincing. That Theater Merit Badge you earned back in the day is certainly paying dividends now.”
Slane’s features hardened. He readied a response to the charges the doctor had made but before he could give it the action on the screen again caught his eye.
[At the count of seven, Corey manages to dislodge Fly and clamber back to his feet. He stands looking down at Fly blankly for a second, before he shakes his head, and applies a modified seated abdominal stretch. Black then lets loose a rapid fire string of stiff elbow shots to the side of Jonny's head. Fly struggles to break loose, but eventually succumbs to the punishment. Once the ref sees Jonny go slack, he calls for the bell.]
“My goodness. Corey Black won? Well, it seems I owe Seth a Coke,” Dr. Kaye mused from his chair.
Stuart Slane took the news far harder than Kaye did. He rose from his seat, stunned; ignoring the WCF Television Title as it slid from his lap and clunked down onto the locker room floor. The belt he had been training so hard to earn and keep and ultimately possess; all but forgotten as he watched a humbled and expressionless Jonny Fly exit a Wrestling Championship Federation ring for what was supposed to be the last time.
“Not like this,” Stuart slurred in defiance to the match’s outcome. From the ends of his rangy arms his thick, coarsened fingers twitched and spasmed as if they were not under his control, “Not like this.”
February 2, 2016 (Tuesday)
The Purses’ backyard patio
The Purses’ farmhouse
Wherever the Purses live
Jeff Purse used his tongs to arrange the strip steaks on the grill so that each one was parallel to the rest, “I believe you, Stu.”
He limped away from the barbecue and over to the table where his guest, his wife, and his infant son waited. It was winter, but there was still light out, and the weather was warm enough for all of them to at least spend time before dinner outside. Snagging a beer from its coaster he went on to explain why he had faith in Slane’s take on the ending to his Television Title Match, “It was a three way. Beaver was unaccounted for. You had your head on a swivel looking for him. Add to that fact you were dazed and operating on instinct, and I can get why you missed Henson’s ambush.”
Stuart nodded, “The issue will be trying to get others to see things the same way.”
“My advice, Stu: don’t even try. People are going to think what they want to think,” Jeff sat on the bench next to his bride and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Thing is, given all the craziness that happened at Fifteen, I doubt many will even remember how your match ended. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Jeff’s right,” Kari Purse nestled into her husband’s embrace, her own arms wrapped snuggly around their child Patrick. At least Stuart assumed that was what she was holding; the boy was so heavily swaddled with coats and blankets it could have been a pork roast under those covers and Slane would have been none the wiser, “Sunday night was insane. Oblivion and Bobby Cairo died.”
“I’d be more sure if we saw their bodies,” Stuart noted after a sip of his coffee, “And even that might not be proof enough. It’s more likely there will never be another Doc Henry match than it is that both The Monster and Governor Cairo are truly gone from this Earth.”
“Yeah, it was a big night for a lot of the old guard, wasn’t it? Doc retires. Logan is suddenly relevant again after a year plus as a punchline. Jay Price won the World Title,” Jeff went on.
“Sarah Twilight is back,” Kari said softly. Her face was solemn when she made the observation. Jeff, too, became grave. The returning Mistress of Mischief had history with the Purses. Ugly history.
Knowing it, Stuart did his part to steer the conversation to a less painful subject, “You’re forgetting something, perhaps deliberately.”
“What’s that, Stu?” Jeff asked as he drew his wife tighter to his side. Going by his burgeoning grin, it was obvious the young man’s question was rhetorical, and that he already knew the answer.
“The forced retirement of your former Pantheon stablemate.”
“Who?” Jeffrey was full on smirking now, as he rose from the table to check on their dinner, “Ohhhhh. You mean Jonny?”
“Yes.”
After turning over the steaks Jeff returned, this time taking his son and plopping him down in his lap, “Yeah that was a shock. I guess that will be the last time anyone underestimates Corey. Though all the doubters should have known better; besides Seth himself I don’t think there’s anyone who has more pride in being part of WCF’s history that Corey Black. The only way he’s leaving the company is in a hearse.”
Stuart fidgeted in his chair, “Do you really think he’s gone? Not Mr. Black, obviously. But… his opponent.”
“Yeah, Jonny’s done. He’s not the type to try and weasel out of the stip he and Corey made. We’re not going to be seeing the debut of ‘The Midnight Flyer’ or ‘Mosca Mysterio’ anytime soon. Bet you’re happy about that.”
“Not at all,” there was a hint of indignation in the bigger man’s voice, “While he and I had our differences, I certainly did not want to see him gone from WCF.”
“At least not anymore,” Kari noted, “There was the time you tried getting the authorities to put him in jail.”
All true. It happened on an episode of Slam nearly three years to the day. You can, as they say, look it up.
Stu studied his knuckles fretfully, “Yes, well, that’s before I understood the proper way to settle disputes among wrestlers was in the ring,” he looked over to Jeff, “Have you spoken with J-J-J- him recently?”
Jeff shook his head.
“But you could contact him if you needed to?” Slane checked.
“I could track him down. Why?”
“Well, I had heard rumors that as a result of Mr. Black’s victory there was going to be a special, ah, edition of XIII held next week, and, I was thinking possibly that perhaps Mister F-F-F would be interested in competing there. Against me.”
Jeff was incredulous, “You want to wrestle Jonny? Again?”
“Yes, if he was up for it. I understand this recent loss might have soured him towards the sport, but sometimes the best thing to do after falling off the metaphorical horse is to jump right back into its symbolic saddle. Heh heh.”
The Purses exchanged sidelong glances.
“A couple of things, Stuart. One, there isn’t going to be a special running of XIII. That was all a rib cooked up among Seth, Gravedigger, and Corey. They wanted to convince Jay Price he’d have to defend the World Championship there and run the risk of his second reign being even shorter than his first.”
“Ah. Well. Very funny,” Stuart groused.
“Two, I don’t think trying to wheedle a rematch out of Jonny Fly is something you should be doing. It’s not… smart. All that stuff with the Gang of Fourteen and the Hot Fry Embargo, that’s the past.”
Kari agreed, “You can’t be concerned about avenging some loss from two years ago, Stuart. Especially when, let’s be blunt, you were the one who picked the fight with Jonny.”
“Yep. You and Fly feuded. He beat you. Move on. Fixating on him just isn’t healthy,” Jeff told his protégé.
Logically, Stuart knew all this. However, there were certain matters that went beyond reason; primal wants that had gone un-slaked since the last encounter between himself and his figmental nemesis. Jonny Fly, knowingly or not, took something from Slane. And he wanted it back.
“I suppose you are right,” Slane lied, “What’s done is done. I need to focus on what’s happening now in WCF.”
“Exactly. You said one of the good things about being Television Champion is that it’s going to force you to constantly be at your best every week in order to keep that belt. Trying to get a win back from someone who isn’t even part of the company anymore? That’s counter-productive,” Kari nudged her husband and nodded towards the barbecue.
“I got them,” Jeff said. He returned Patrick to his mother before hobbling back to the grill. Taking up the tongs once again, he removed each choice piece of sizzling beef flesh from the flames, “Right now, Stuart, the only wrestler you should be concerned with is the one you’re wrestling Sunday.”
“Demarcus Jordan,” Slane named the next challenger to his TV Title.
“Yeah. And you should be concerned. Demarcus is good. Real good. I’m really impressed with what I’ve seen from the guy.”
“He’s alright,” Kari adjudged, smiling slightly.
Purse seemed put off, “Just alright? Honey, he’s more than that. Demarcus has got all the tools. Fast. Strong. Excellent striking abilities. And he is fluid in that ring. Smooth, like butter on the tongue. No motion wasted. Gutsy, too; willing to go high risk to get that win. Plus he’s so charismatic! The man oozes appeal. “
“Like butter on the tongue?” Kari smirked.
“Yeah. And smart. Funny. Driven. You know Demarcus’s background, right? He worked his way up from nothing to get to WCF. Faced obstacles none of us had to growing up. That shit he had to put up with from Jordan Wolfram? That was just a taste. He’s inspirational, just inspirational. All that talent, and that story…. Demarcus Jordan is going to be the next big thing in WCF,” the former Future of Wrestling Championship Federation vowed.
Kari and Stuart were quiet for several moments as they processed Jeff’s evaluation of the man who had nicknamed himself “The Best”.
“But you still think I can beat him, right?” Slane checked.
“What? Uh, yeah. Of course. Well, probably. I mean, this is WCF. On any given night, anybody can beat anybody, you know. I wouldn’t bet the mortgage on you winning or anything like that, but I got your back, big guy.”
Kari gave a single cluck of consternation before standing up. With Patrick on her hip she took the plate of steaks away from her husband and walked inside with them, “Let’s go eat before I lose my appetite.”
Jeff awkwardly watched her go, and then turned his attention back to the bemused Television Champion, “You should be fine. Just, you know, ‘Be Prepared’. ”
Purse gave Slane an encouraging slap on the back as the two headed into the kitchen as well.
February 7, 2016 (Sunday)
Backstage before Slam
Fed Ex Forum
Memphis, Tennesee
In Pseudo Screenplay Format
*Hank Brown, Broadcaster of Reknown, is standing with Stuart in front of the traditional WCF backdrop. Stu’s in his ring gear and has the Television Title around his waist.*
Hank: Good evening, WCF Galaxy. This is Hammerin’ Hank Brown, here live, at Memphis Tennessee’s Fed Forum. We are just hours away from another thrilling episode of Wrestling Championship Federation’s Slam! With me now is a man who will be in action tonight, Television Champ Stuart Slane.
*Stu gives a brief wave to the camera.*
Hank: Stuart, before we talk about your upcoming match I want to go back to last Sunday and the Fifteen Pay Per View. What were your thoughts about being on that historic card?
Stuart: It was an honor. WCF is a remarkable organization, and performing at what amounted to its fifteenth anniversary was a great moment.
Hank: That moment was not without controversy, however. You were successful in your defense of your Television Title, but only after the current Head of Talent Relations, KL Henson, attacked one of the men you were facing, Andre Holmes. Do you feel this outside interference taints your victory?
Stuart: While I am confident I would have won the match without Mr. Henson’s involvement, there is no denying what happened. As such, I’ve no choice to agree with those who feel my win is tainted.
Hank: Should Andre Holmes be entitled to a rematch then? What about Dustin Beaver, who was also there fighting for the title?
Stuart: I wouldn’t object to either man being given another shot at my belt if that’s what they want. However, I do note that both Mister Holmes and Mister Beaver have been given other opportunities for championship gold. Mister Holmes has a Tag Team Title Match tonight and a People’s Title Match this coming Wednesday, while Mister Beaver will be eligible for the Trilogy Cup Tournament if he can win tonight as well.
Hank: The winner of The Trilogy Cup Tournament goes on to compete for the WCF World Title at the Asesinato de Mayo Pay Per View.
Stuart: Yes. And while I feel both men deserve these chances, I also believe they were awarded them in part because of Mister Henson’s actions at Fifteen. For Andre Holmes especially; there is no way to look at the Booking Committee’s decision to put him on the card as anything other than a rebuke of Mister Henson and his flagrant abuse of power in indefinitely suspending him.
Hank: What about the possibility people forgot Andre was supposed to be out and he was signed up for a match he wasn’t meant to be eligible for?
Stuart: That seems unlikely.
*Pause for comedic effect.*
Hank: Let’s move on to your match tonight. You will once again be defending the Television Title; this time in singles competition, against Andre Holmes’s Rebellution stablemate Demarcus Jordan. Your thoughts?
Stuart: It’s an interesting choice for a challenger. I wonder if the two being allies played a role in picking Mister Jordan to face me. Rebellution’s raison de entre after all is to fight against the all too frequent injustices those in our profession must endure. The sneak attacks, the run-ins, the beat downs; all of which Andre Holmes suffered through in his match against me, even though I was not at fault.
Hank: Would that possibility upset you? After all, it does remind everyone of the ugly fact that you yourself admitted earlier: not even a month in, and your reign as TV Champion has a blemish.
Stuart: I’m not upset. I understand the, ah, marketability of such a match; one member of Rebellution attempting to avenge another’s loss. And it does draw attention to the group’s overall goal, which I feel is laudable.
Hank: Even if it’s being done at your expense?
Stuart: I’m a big man with broad shoulders, Mister Brown; I can carry the weight.
Hank: Talk about the man you’ll actually be facing tonight: Demarcus Jordan.
Stuart: Mister Jordan is a capable wrestler. He wrestles in a high-flying acrobatic manner that is totally the opposite of how I fight. But I have beaten similarly styled wrestlers since my return here, and beaten them. I’ll beat Mister Jordan as well. His flash, his speed, are no match for my strength. I’m going to toss him around that ring so much he’ll need a Dramamine. I’ll wring out his ‘mad hops’ until nothing remains but the dregs. Whatever is left of Demarcus Jordan after that will be Knotted Up and sent packing back down the card where he currently belongs.
Hank: Demarcus has shown he is more than capable of defeating powerhouse type opponents. He defeated Jordan Wolfram last week.
Stuart: Jordan Wolfram is not on my level. Not even close. He’s a cracked funhouse mirror image of the wrestler I once was. So Demarcus Jordan’s win over him does not impress me. Neither does his record as a whole. He’s been pinned twice in tag matches; though granted both losses came with extenuating circumstances attached. He has a tag team win to his credit, thanks to fellow Rebulltionary Bonnie Blue. His only other singles match saw him pick up the deuce, but it was against someone who washed out of WCF after one week. Don’t get me wrong, Mister Brown, I believe Demarcus Jordan is talented, and can go on to do great things here in the Wrestling Championship Federation. However, “The Best” is going to have to do better if he wants to be seen as anything more than the weakest link in his faction. He’s not going to get the chance tonight. Not against me. But one has to have faith in this business; in yourself, and in the Future. If Mister Jordan can do that after his loss here, and use all those tools he possesses, then he will be on that road to success we all know he’s capable of travelling.
Hank: Stuart Slane, thank you for your time.
Stuart: You’re welcome. And thank you, Mister Brown.
*Slane holds out his hand. Hank warily takes it. That’s how the segment ends; with the pair awkwardly shaking hands.*
