Post by Stuart Slane on Jun 19, 2016 15:00:06 GMT -5
Father’s Day for Stuart Slane*
*At least the pertinent parts. You don’t really want to read awkward small talk between him and his kids, do you? Got to keep the padding to a minimum!
June 19, 2016
Reading, Pennsylvania
Day’s Inn Suite
Parenting via Skype
Stuart Slane had reproduced. Thrice.
It’s not discussed much, for good reason. The WCF wrestler, early on his career, had noted how the more morally and creatively bankrupt members of the roster would target a rival’s loved ones in an attempt to gain an advantage against them in the ring. There was no way this was going to happen to Stuart. He was willing to play the game within reason, but family; even one he was physically and emotionally detached from, would be off limits. Building a match through child endangerment did not seem like good business to him. So, as his rise through the ranks of Wrestling Championship Federation took place, Slane willingly made the decision to isolate himself further from his (now former) wife and children.
He had done it before, after all, with his biological family. One of the happiest days in Stuart’s life was when he dropped the last $500 he owed his father for taxidermy school into his lap and told him simply: ‘We’re done.’ And he kept his word on that. Ephraim Slane should not be expecting a call this Father’s Day from his third born child.
Cutting the cord with his own sons and daughter (Ron, Wilson, and Reagan) took more of a mental toll on Stuart. He would still provide for them financially, that would never change, but his presence in their lives would be scaled back to bi-weekly phone calls and Skype sessions that would allow the Iowa born big man to ‘touch base’ with his brood. At the time this decision was made none of the parties involved objected. Stuart’s wife and children had endured years of emotional abuse from the former Scoutmaster, and suffered through his domineering, judgmental ways long before he had brought his Demerit Badges to WCF. Good riddance to bad rubbish had been the consensus the Bergers (Slane’s wife’s maiden name) had reached in family therapy.
For Stuart, the act of renouncing his claim as paternal figurehead was equivalent to cauterizing a festering wound; something that had to be done to protect them from his enemies (both real and imagined) and to ensure his own personal mission of bringing decency and order to the WCF Galaxy would not be compromised. Not once back then did he believe the family would flourish when they were free from his brutish, bullying ways, but that was exactly what had happened. Now, an older, wiser, seemingly more self-aware Stuart Slane knew the truth: that taking himself out of the Slane family portrait was the right thing to do for the simple fact he was a bad dad.
Still, it was Father’s Day, and certain familial obligations were honored. That was why Stuart Slane was sitting at the work station of his hotel room in front of his computer, typing in the Bergers’ Skype account number wearing the dark teal polo shirt he had bought with the gift card his children had sent him.
It was not any of his children that answered the call, however, but their mother. Letitia Berger was a pixyish blonde with robin’s egg blue eyes and pale skin dotted with freckles. Still dressed in her church clothes, she set her tablet down in their (really her) kitchen’s breakfast nook and gave Stuart an even smile.
“Good morning, Stuart. Happy Father’s Day.”
“Thank you. Please tell Charles the same for me if you speak with him later today.”
Charles was Stu’s ex-father-in-law. Mentioning him caused Letitia’s face to briefly harden, as there were few people Charlie Berger wished to hear from less than Stuart Slane, “I will,” she lied, “You know, your call is a little early. The kids aren’t here.”
“They didn’t attend services with you?” Slane inquired, attempting to maintain a neutral and unobtrusive tone despite the personal question.
“They did. But Reagan is playing chauffer right now; driving home a couple of the older parishioners. Ron and Wil went along for the ride.”
“I see,” Stuart, visibly chastened at learning his absence from the family had led to his children becoming more philanthropic, “Uh, the early call is intentional, as I wanted to have some time to speak to you.”
“About what?” Tisha removed the jacket to her church dress and rolled up her sleeves.
“Do you remember the checking account I had set up to finance our emergency plan?”
“The slush fund? Yes. What about it?”
Slane pursed his lips sourly, “The account is still open, apparently, and is being used in an attempt to frame me for malfeasance.”
Walking to the refrigerator, Letitia opened the door and began removing food for lunch, “Are they really framing you or is this one of your wrestling things?”
“It is both,” Stuart assured her, “I’m not sure how much the children have told you about my recent run in WCF, but I am currently being accused of paying off parties to assault me in an attempt to build sympathy. Those parties have as evidence of my complicity cancelled checks from that account.”
There was so much Letitia Berger could have asked her ex-husband about what he had just told her if she cared; but she did not. Outside of an encounter with Steven Orbit (yep, you can look it up) years ago the she was happy remaining ignorant of Slane’s current line of work, “So, what are you asking me, Stuart? Because I know nothing about the account. I thought it had been closed after the Scouts found out you were embezzling from them.”
“I might have left the ledger for the account in the basement study. I was wondering if you could see if it’s still there,” gave the reason for calling prior to the scheduled time.
“The study was cleared out years ago. Reagan uses it as a weight room now. If you left some of your checks here, they are long gone,” Letitia got a bread loaf from the pantry and set it down on the kitchen counter. A matter not yet discussed did concern her enough to cease her sandwich preparation and sit in front of Stu, “There was something, though. I was going to bring it up anyway, since it was so weird and out of the blue. A man claiming to work for the Scoutmaster General came by to talk to us about you last week.”
The news caused Stuart’s pulse to quicken, “Really? What in particular did they want to know?”
“How you were treating us, essentially; were you paying child support; stuff like that. Don’t worry; I told them you were doing your duty.”
“I wasn’t worried, Tish. I know you’re not so petty as to lie about me,” Slane replied, “Are you sure of the identity of this man; that he truly represented the Scoutmaster General?”
“I assume he did. He had the uniform. He was a big guy, though; like you. Not your typical Boy Scout material.”
“If he truly works for the SG, there was nothing typical about him. Only the cream of the crop is selected to become part of the Scoutmaster General’s coterie,” Stuart told her grimly.
Tish shrugged her slim shoulders and dealt out eight bread slices onto four plates, “Anyway, I figured you should know the BSA is still checking up on you, even after your excommunication.”
“Yes. Thank you for the information,” Stuart pondered what Letitia had told him, trying to decide if this made the Scoutmaster General a more or less likely suspect as the mastermind behind the current plot against him. The SG might have sent his agent to see if Stuart had told his suspicions to his family.
“You’re welcome, Stuart,” she looked down away from the screen, seemingly self-conscious by what she had to say next, “Uhm, unless there’s anything else, I’m going to let you go. I have lunch to do and then laundry. I’ll have the kids’ call you when they’re back and done eating. Is that ok?”
Stuart blinked, “Of course. Thank you for your time.”
Letitia gave her former husband an uncomfortable nod farewell and cut the feed, leaving him alone to ruminate on what he had learned from her, as well as the realization that the woman who had once pledged to live the rest of her life with him now wasn’t comfortable making small talk for half an hour until their children to came home to take his call.
June 19, 2016
Reading, PA
Day’s Inn Suite
Promo via Skype
Stuart had switched into his ring gear: a green compression shirt and carpenter shorts. Not that you can see the latter, since he’s seated at a desk holding his laptop. Looking solemnly into the camera, he addressed the WCF Galaxy
“Seth Lerch, in a bit of creative booking, has scheduled for the main of event of Slam this Sunday a tag match between the finalists of the WCF Classic and the four men wrestling for the Internet Championship at Blast. Myself, World Champion Jeff Purse, Hardcore Champion Nathan Chambers, and James Chevalier will face Internet Champion Zombie McMorris, Night Rider, “Freezer Burn” Wayne Hammon, and Drax Durant. Now, some wags will claim this is a mismatch due to the supposed value of each title, as the WCF World Championship is the most sought after prize in the sport and many consider the Internet Belt worthless. There has been more than one former holder of the ‘Trash-Talk Title’ who have cast it aside like so much garbage; men and women like Vengeance, Lilith, and Jayson Price who thought they were too good to wear the strap. They were all wrong.”
“Another criticism of the Internet Championship is that it only exists to make one man-coincidentally, it’s current holder- relevant. That while Zombie McMorris drags it around as proof he is a force to be reckoned with in WCF, in reality it is nothing more than a security blanket for The Coked Up Mad Man. This is also wrong. This line of thinking does both the belt and its wearer a disservice. I know this as much as anyone.”
“The Internet Championship is how I made my mark in WCF. It was the first of the three titles I’ve won here, and it was what I used to get noticed. You ask the WCF Galaxy who the greatest Internet Champion is; Mister McMorris wins that vote in a landslide. If you ask it who comes second, it would be the abdicated Arch Duke of Confusion Alexander Richards. But inquire as to who had had the most memorable reigns as Internet Champion, those in know would say Scoutmaster Stuart Slane.”
WCF’s former Virtual Ambassador to the World Wide Web’s proud expression transforms to one of unease.
“Now, looking back, perhaps my tenure with the belt was remarkable for reasons that were less than noble. I did attempt to ban emoticons from the company website. But the fact remains I took a title most saw as a hindrance to a career and used it to get noticed. Unfortunately for me, some of that attention came in the form of a brutal ambush by members of the stable known as the Misfits. Their attack would sideline me for several weeks, and I was forced to vacate the belt. However, I am convinced it was my time as Internet Champion that afforded me the opportunity to wrestle Steven Orbit for his United States Title at One. Seth knew I would show the same zeal and determination as challenger for that belt that I had for my previous one, and that I had what it took to beat Mister Orbit, whose own star was rapidly ascending the WCF Firmament at that time. And at the company’s biggest event of the year I did just that. I beat The Mack clean as sheet at One, became United States Champion, and again had one of the most notorious reigns with that Title anyone has had. There was a reason Pantheon forced me to defend that title four times in nine weeks; back then I claimed it was because they were trying to silence the voice of ‘Right America’, but now I know it was for a simpler reason: they knew I could, and could make the company money while doing so.”
“Why am I spending so much time talking about my history with the Internet Championship when I’m not one of its contenders? Because I want those in the WCF Galaxy who call this Sunday’s Main Event a waste of time to realize it is anything but. I know how the Internet Title is perceived. And I know how those four men fighting to win it at Blast SHOULD feel; that the world doubts them, that they have no business facing the WCF Classic Finalists who will be competing for the World Title at the Pay Per View, unless it is to ‘do the job’.”
Slane awkwardly raised and crooked his fingers while speaking those last three syllables.
“This attitude should outrage them. Misters McMorris, Rider, Hammon, and Durant should see this tag match the same way the latter three men should see the Internet Title: as a chance to make a name for themselves and the division they are representing. If they are any kind of competitor at all they should want to destroy me and the other Finalists at Slam; to demonstrate to the Internet Championship’s detractors their title is a worthy one, and that capable, driven, fearsome men are fighting to possess it. It is the Champion that makes the Title; not the other way around. The same is true for the Title’s contenders.”
“We WCF Finalists need to have the same mindset. Myself, Jeff, Mister Chambers, and Mister Chevalier all have already punched our tickets for the main event at Blast. Nothing outside of injury will change that. However, if we were to lose Sunday, if we were to let Mr. McMorris’s team beat us, it will be a mark against our collective claim to be the four best wrestlers in the WCF, and the ones most deserving to hold its highest honor. This has already happened last week when I walked out on my tag team partner Nathan Chambers, allowing Dat Hawt American Darkness to win our match. By putting my personal animosity towards Mister Chambers ahead of the integrity of the sport I failed to demonstrate the competitive spirit a true champion possesses. That is why, despite how deserved the little pisher’s abandonment was, I must a-a-“
Slane’s right eyelid fluttered briefly.
“-apologize to Mister Chambers. Make no mistake, had the match ended differently he still would have been on a receiving end of a beatdown; it just would have come at my hands.”
Pause for effect.
“Though I would have allowed Misters McMorris and eXtreme to join in the mugging, if they weren’t willing to wait for the scraps. Irregardless, it was wrong of me to lose my temper and walk out on Mister Chambers, no matter how provocative his earlier actions were. Our World Champion, Jeff Purse, once told me the best way to tell the ‘good guys’ from the ‘bad guys’ in this business is how they comport themselves between the bells. It was advice I have taken to heart until last week. I have not rejected Jeff’s words outright, however. In fact, I am invoking them to all my tag team partners, in the spirit of the greater good. We four are the last wrestlers standing in the WCF Classic. We should be seen as the elite competitors in the company. That is why we must do our best, do our duty, and work together to defeat our opponents at Slam. Only a victory will justify our spot on the card. A loss would cast into doubt the entire WCF Classic tournament itself, which, given our company’s current circumstances, should be avoided.”
“And a win is not a given thing. Do I think the men we will be facing at Slam are at our collective levels? No. In all honesty, the only one who comes close is Mister McMorris, and even that assessment needs to be qualified. For Zombie McMorris can only be counted on to deliver when, to twist his catchphrase a half turn, ‘give a shinola’.”
“Now, on the surface this should be obvious, as it is true of everyone; if you care, you try; if you try, you succeed. But what inspires ZMac? Based on my observation it appears to be two things: making whatever title he’s holding seem the most important in WCF and protecting Wrestling Championship Federation from those he considers unfit to be part of the company; certainly noble goals for a undead drug fiend with a penchant for home invasion. But you can see it in how vociferously he defends the honor of whatever belt he carries, and how he will focus any new hire that comes in too big for his or her britches with the intent of putting them in their place. There is a method to the Coked Up Madman; one I expect Heavy Metal Machine Logan and any of the challengers to his Internet Belt who do not take their opportunity to become champion seriously will get to experience soon.”
“This Sunday, though, I wonder how motivated Mister McMorris will be. He’s not defending the Internet Championship. His tag partner, Mikey eXtreme, isn’t in the match with him, so he won’t be jonesing to demonstrate their dominance of WCF’s non-existent tag team division. He got his chance to put the boots to that loudmouth Nathan Chambers last week. Considering all that Mister McMorris may feel he has nothing to prove this week, and simply use the match as an opportunity to better judge the talents of the three men who are scheduled to wrestle him for his belt at Blast.”
“Not that he should need more time to scrutinize Night Rider. The Angel of Death is a WCF journeyman, having nearly as many runs with the company as I’ve had. A former People’s Champion and a two Time Tag Champion, Misters Rider and McMorris have crossed paths before. I’m nearly positive they were stablemates in one of those dark, brooding factions Night Rider is most famous for putting together. Anarchists of Darkness? Aspirants of Decay? Something like that. My apologies, I have so many angles running concurrently I’m forgetting the past efforts of others. It is interesting to note there would be no better time for the quasi-supernatural contract killer to reform the old Acolytes of Doom clique, given the disturbingly high number of candidates that the company recently signed. Putting together another circus of social outcasts would be the only success Night Rider can expect to have in the coming days. He’s not winning the Internet Title at Blast and his team will be on the losing end tonight. Night Rider might be a multi-time champion in WCF, but that’s having the knack of being in the right place at the right time. Even with his size and unlikely agility Mister Rider is average at best in the ring. He’s not as good as me or any of my teammates, though I do consider him the second most dangerous man we will be facing at Slam.”
“The third dangerous by default would be Freezer Burn. I noted with some bemusement that two weeks ago prior to our tag match Mister Hammon spent some considerable time to call me out personally during his hype promo. He called me ‘pitiful’ and a ‘has-been’ that was not worth his time. This was right before he promised we would meet again, in singles competition, where he would put me in my place. I can’t decide if his rant was more ironic or desperate. This corpse of a wrestler more desiccated than the actual zombie he’ll be fighting alongside Sunday is accusing me of being a wash up? Mister Hammon, you’re a hack. A rambling old coot so needy for attention you went with the ‘false messiah’ canard hoping it would gain traction with the WCF Galaxy. Bad timing on your part, given since your ‘revelation’ at least two more religious kooks were added to the roster. But I tell you what, Mister Hammon; since you were so eager for my personal attention; after the WCF Classic, after I settle accounts with Brent Alpine and Percy Macro; you have next. Does that work for you, Freezer Burn? I hope so. Until then you can enjoy the preview of how our match will go by taking part in a losing effort against me. Again.”
“That leaves Drax Durant as the last man who challenges me and my fellow WCF Classic Finalists at Slam. Like my teammate Nathan Chambers, Mister Durant is a recent addition to the company, coming in after whatever happened in Mexico, uh, happened in Mexico. Unlike Mister Chambers, however, I don’t see much main event potential in the Straight Edge Savior. He’s good enough in the ring to be there when his side won the opportunity to lose to Zombie McMorris at Blast, but I think that moment of serendipity will be the high point of Mister Durant’s career. He could prove me wrong, of course. The idea of winning the Internet Title and using WCF’s vast social media platform as a bully pulpit from which to spread his pro-abstinence screed may be appealing enough to him that he pulls off the upset of the century at the next Pay Per View, but I doubt it. Just as I doubt he will be much of a factor Sunday.”
“I’ve run down the men I will be facing Sunday, figuratively and literally. But they won’t be the ones who decide the outcome of the match: it’s us. Myself, James Chevalier, Nathan Chambers, and Jeff Purse are the better wrestlers. And if we work as a cohesive group, as a team, then our opponents should have no chance. The issue is: can we do that? In a week the four of us will be fighting for the highest prize in this great sport, in a match that by its very nature allows for rules to be bent, for corners to be cut. And when that contest comes, you can be sure I will fight as hard as anyone, using any advantage I can, to win. Before that, though, we have this tag match at Slam. We shouldn’t be operating as enemies Sunday, or even rivals; we should want to make it clear to everyone watching we are the superior competitors and the ones deserving the opportunity the WCF Classic gives. It’s clear Seth booked this match because he sees the inherent suspense in having men who in a week will be tearing each other apart forced to work together for a goal that seems superfluous. But winning in WCF should never be seen that way. That’s why I pledge, on my honor, to set aside the differences I have with Mister Chambers and work with him to defeat our opponents. And that I promise Misters Purse and Chevalier I will put forward my best effort Sunday, and that after we win I will offer my hand to all of you in the name of good sportsmanship. That’s what you, and the entire WCF Galaxy, deserves.”
*At least the pertinent parts. You don’t really want to read awkward small talk between him and his kids, do you? Got to keep the padding to a minimum!
June 19, 2016
Reading, Pennsylvania
Day’s Inn Suite
Parenting via Skype
Stuart Slane had reproduced. Thrice.
It’s not discussed much, for good reason. The WCF wrestler, early on his career, had noted how the more morally and creatively bankrupt members of the roster would target a rival’s loved ones in an attempt to gain an advantage against them in the ring. There was no way this was going to happen to Stuart. He was willing to play the game within reason, but family; even one he was physically and emotionally detached from, would be off limits. Building a match through child endangerment did not seem like good business to him. So, as his rise through the ranks of Wrestling Championship Federation took place, Slane willingly made the decision to isolate himself further from his (now former) wife and children.
He had done it before, after all, with his biological family. One of the happiest days in Stuart’s life was when he dropped the last $500 he owed his father for taxidermy school into his lap and told him simply: ‘We’re done.’ And he kept his word on that. Ephraim Slane should not be expecting a call this Father’s Day from his third born child.
Cutting the cord with his own sons and daughter (Ron, Wilson, and Reagan) took more of a mental toll on Stuart. He would still provide for them financially, that would never change, but his presence in their lives would be scaled back to bi-weekly phone calls and Skype sessions that would allow the Iowa born big man to ‘touch base’ with his brood. At the time this decision was made none of the parties involved objected. Stuart’s wife and children had endured years of emotional abuse from the former Scoutmaster, and suffered through his domineering, judgmental ways long before he had brought his Demerit Badges to WCF. Good riddance to bad rubbish had been the consensus the Bergers (Slane’s wife’s maiden name) had reached in family therapy.
For Stuart, the act of renouncing his claim as paternal figurehead was equivalent to cauterizing a festering wound; something that had to be done to protect them from his enemies (both real and imagined) and to ensure his own personal mission of bringing decency and order to the WCF Galaxy would not be compromised. Not once back then did he believe the family would flourish when they were free from his brutish, bullying ways, but that was exactly what had happened. Now, an older, wiser, seemingly more self-aware Stuart Slane knew the truth: that taking himself out of the Slane family portrait was the right thing to do for the simple fact he was a bad dad.
Still, it was Father’s Day, and certain familial obligations were honored. That was why Stuart Slane was sitting at the work station of his hotel room in front of his computer, typing in the Bergers’ Skype account number wearing the dark teal polo shirt he had bought with the gift card his children had sent him.
It was not any of his children that answered the call, however, but their mother. Letitia Berger was a pixyish blonde with robin’s egg blue eyes and pale skin dotted with freckles. Still dressed in her church clothes, she set her tablet down in their (really her) kitchen’s breakfast nook and gave Stuart an even smile.
“Good morning, Stuart. Happy Father’s Day.”
“Thank you. Please tell Charles the same for me if you speak with him later today.”
Charles was Stu’s ex-father-in-law. Mentioning him caused Letitia’s face to briefly harden, as there were few people Charlie Berger wished to hear from less than Stuart Slane, “I will,” she lied, “You know, your call is a little early. The kids aren’t here.”
“They didn’t attend services with you?” Slane inquired, attempting to maintain a neutral and unobtrusive tone despite the personal question.
“They did. But Reagan is playing chauffer right now; driving home a couple of the older parishioners. Ron and Wil went along for the ride.”
“I see,” Stuart, visibly chastened at learning his absence from the family had led to his children becoming more philanthropic, “Uh, the early call is intentional, as I wanted to have some time to speak to you.”
“About what?” Tisha removed the jacket to her church dress and rolled up her sleeves.
“Do you remember the checking account I had set up to finance our emergency plan?”
“The slush fund? Yes. What about it?”
Slane pursed his lips sourly, “The account is still open, apparently, and is being used in an attempt to frame me for malfeasance.”
Walking to the refrigerator, Letitia opened the door and began removing food for lunch, “Are they really framing you or is this one of your wrestling things?”
“It is both,” Stuart assured her, “I’m not sure how much the children have told you about my recent run in WCF, but I am currently being accused of paying off parties to assault me in an attempt to build sympathy. Those parties have as evidence of my complicity cancelled checks from that account.”
There was so much Letitia Berger could have asked her ex-husband about what he had just told her if she cared; but she did not. Outside of an encounter with Steven Orbit (yep, you can look it up) years ago the she was happy remaining ignorant of Slane’s current line of work, “So, what are you asking me, Stuart? Because I know nothing about the account. I thought it had been closed after the Scouts found out you were embezzling from them.”
“I might have left the ledger for the account in the basement study. I was wondering if you could see if it’s still there,” gave the reason for calling prior to the scheduled time.
“The study was cleared out years ago. Reagan uses it as a weight room now. If you left some of your checks here, they are long gone,” Letitia got a bread loaf from the pantry and set it down on the kitchen counter. A matter not yet discussed did concern her enough to cease her sandwich preparation and sit in front of Stu, “There was something, though. I was going to bring it up anyway, since it was so weird and out of the blue. A man claiming to work for the Scoutmaster General came by to talk to us about you last week.”
The news caused Stuart’s pulse to quicken, “Really? What in particular did they want to know?”
“How you were treating us, essentially; were you paying child support; stuff like that. Don’t worry; I told them you were doing your duty.”
“I wasn’t worried, Tish. I know you’re not so petty as to lie about me,” Slane replied, “Are you sure of the identity of this man; that he truly represented the Scoutmaster General?”
“I assume he did. He had the uniform. He was a big guy, though; like you. Not your typical Boy Scout material.”
“If he truly works for the SG, there was nothing typical about him. Only the cream of the crop is selected to become part of the Scoutmaster General’s coterie,” Stuart told her grimly.
Tish shrugged her slim shoulders and dealt out eight bread slices onto four plates, “Anyway, I figured you should know the BSA is still checking up on you, even after your excommunication.”
“Yes. Thank you for the information,” Stuart pondered what Letitia had told him, trying to decide if this made the Scoutmaster General a more or less likely suspect as the mastermind behind the current plot against him. The SG might have sent his agent to see if Stuart had told his suspicions to his family.
“You’re welcome, Stuart,” she looked down away from the screen, seemingly self-conscious by what she had to say next, “Uhm, unless there’s anything else, I’m going to let you go. I have lunch to do and then laundry. I’ll have the kids’ call you when they’re back and done eating. Is that ok?”
Stuart blinked, “Of course. Thank you for your time.”
Letitia gave her former husband an uncomfortable nod farewell and cut the feed, leaving him alone to ruminate on what he had learned from her, as well as the realization that the woman who had once pledged to live the rest of her life with him now wasn’t comfortable making small talk for half an hour until their children to came home to take his call.
June 19, 2016
Reading, PA
Day’s Inn Suite
Promo via Skype
Stuart had switched into his ring gear: a green compression shirt and carpenter shorts. Not that you can see the latter, since he’s seated at a desk holding his laptop. Looking solemnly into the camera, he addressed the WCF Galaxy
“Seth Lerch, in a bit of creative booking, has scheduled for the main of event of Slam this Sunday a tag match between the finalists of the WCF Classic and the four men wrestling for the Internet Championship at Blast. Myself, World Champion Jeff Purse, Hardcore Champion Nathan Chambers, and James Chevalier will face Internet Champion Zombie McMorris, Night Rider, “Freezer Burn” Wayne Hammon, and Drax Durant. Now, some wags will claim this is a mismatch due to the supposed value of each title, as the WCF World Championship is the most sought after prize in the sport and many consider the Internet Belt worthless. There has been more than one former holder of the ‘Trash-Talk Title’ who have cast it aside like so much garbage; men and women like Vengeance, Lilith, and Jayson Price who thought they were too good to wear the strap. They were all wrong.”
“Another criticism of the Internet Championship is that it only exists to make one man-coincidentally, it’s current holder- relevant. That while Zombie McMorris drags it around as proof he is a force to be reckoned with in WCF, in reality it is nothing more than a security blanket for The Coked Up Mad Man. This is also wrong. This line of thinking does both the belt and its wearer a disservice. I know this as much as anyone.”
“The Internet Championship is how I made my mark in WCF. It was the first of the three titles I’ve won here, and it was what I used to get noticed. You ask the WCF Galaxy who the greatest Internet Champion is; Mister McMorris wins that vote in a landslide. If you ask it who comes second, it would be the abdicated Arch Duke of Confusion Alexander Richards. But inquire as to who had had the most memorable reigns as Internet Champion, those in know would say Scoutmaster Stuart Slane.”
WCF’s former Virtual Ambassador to the World Wide Web’s proud expression transforms to one of unease.
“Now, looking back, perhaps my tenure with the belt was remarkable for reasons that were less than noble. I did attempt to ban emoticons from the company website. But the fact remains I took a title most saw as a hindrance to a career and used it to get noticed. Unfortunately for me, some of that attention came in the form of a brutal ambush by members of the stable known as the Misfits. Their attack would sideline me for several weeks, and I was forced to vacate the belt. However, I am convinced it was my time as Internet Champion that afforded me the opportunity to wrestle Steven Orbit for his United States Title at One. Seth knew I would show the same zeal and determination as challenger for that belt that I had for my previous one, and that I had what it took to beat Mister Orbit, whose own star was rapidly ascending the WCF Firmament at that time. And at the company’s biggest event of the year I did just that. I beat The Mack clean as sheet at One, became United States Champion, and again had one of the most notorious reigns with that Title anyone has had. There was a reason Pantheon forced me to defend that title four times in nine weeks; back then I claimed it was because they were trying to silence the voice of ‘Right America’, but now I know it was for a simpler reason: they knew I could, and could make the company money while doing so.”
“Why am I spending so much time talking about my history with the Internet Championship when I’m not one of its contenders? Because I want those in the WCF Galaxy who call this Sunday’s Main Event a waste of time to realize it is anything but. I know how the Internet Title is perceived. And I know how those four men fighting to win it at Blast SHOULD feel; that the world doubts them, that they have no business facing the WCF Classic Finalists who will be competing for the World Title at the Pay Per View, unless it is to ‘do the job’.”
Slane awkwardly raised and crooked his fingers while speaking those last three syllables.
“This attitude should outrage them. Misters McMorris, Rider, Hammon, and Durant should see this tag match the same way the latter three men should see the Internet Title: as a chance to make a name for themselves and the division they are representing. If they are any kind of competitor at all they should want to destroy me and the other Finalists at Slam; to demonstrate to the Internet Championship’s detractors their title is a worthy one, and that capable, driven, fearsome men are fighting to possess it. It is the Champion that makes the Title; not the other way around. The same is true for the Title’s contenders.”
“We WCF Finalists need to have the same mindset. Myself, Jeff, Mister Chambers, and Mister Chevalier all have already punched our tickets for the main event at Blast. Nothing outside of injury will change that. However, if we were to lose Sunday, if we were to let Mr. McMorris’s team beat us, it will be a mark against our collective claim to be the four best wrestlers in the WCF, and the ones most deserving to hold its highest honor. This has already happened last week when I walked out on my tag team partner Nathan Chambers, allowing Dat Hawt American Darkness to win our match. By putting my personal animosity towards Mister Chambers ahead of the integrity of the sport I failed to demonstrate the competitive spirit a true champion possesses. That is why, despite how deserved the little pisher’s abandonment was, I must a-a-“
Slane’s right eyelid fluttered briefly.
“-apologize to Mister Chambers. Make no mistake, had the match ended differently he still would have been on a receiving end of a beatdown; it just would have come at my hands.”
Pause for effect.
“Though I would have allowed Misters McMorris and eXtreme to join in the mugging, if they weren’t willing to wait for the scraps. Irregardless, it was wrong of me to lose my temper and walk out on Mister Chambers, no matter how provocative his earlier actions were. Our World Champion, Jeff Purse, once told me the best way to tell the ‘good guys’ from the ‘bad guys’ in this business is how they comport themselves between the bells. It was advice I have taken to heart until last week. I have not rejected Jeff’s words outright, however. In fact, I am invoking them to all my tag team partners, in the spirit of the greater good. We four are the last wrestlers standing in the WCF Classic. We should be seen as the elite competitors in the company. That is why we must do our best, do our duty, and work together to defeat our opponents at Slam. Only a victory will justify our spot on the card. A loss would cast into doubt the entire WCF Classic tournament itself, which, given our company’s current circumstances, should be avoided.”
“And a win is not a given thing. Do I think the men we will be facing at Slam are at our collective levels? No. In all honesty, the only one who comes close is Mister McMorris, and even that assessment needs to be qualified. For Zombie McMorris can only be counted on to deliver when, to twist his catchphrase a half turn, ‘give a shinola’.”
“Now, on the surface this should be obvious, as it is true of everyone; if you care, you try; if you try, you succeed. But what inspires ZMac? Based on my observation it appears to be two things: making whatever title he’s holding seem the most important in WCF and protecting Wrestling Championship Federation from those he considers unfit to be part of the company; certainly noble goals for a undead drug fiend with a penchant for home invasion. But you can see it in how vociferously he defends the honor of whatever belt he carries, and how he will focus any new hire that comes in too big for his or her britches with the intent of putting them in their place. There is a method to the Coked Up Madman; one I expect Heavy Metal Machine Logan and any of the challengers to his Internet Belt who do not take their opportunity to become champion seriously will get to experience soon.”
“This Sunday, though, I wonder how motivated Mister McMorris will be. He’s not defending the Internet Championship. His tag partner, Mikey eXtreme, isn’t in the match with him, so he won’t be jonesing to demonstrate their dominance of WCF’s non-existent tag team division. He got his chance to put the boots to that loudmouth Nathan Chambers last week. Considering all that Mister McMorris may feel he has nothing to prove this week, and simply use the match as an opportunity to better judge the talents of the three men who are scheduled to wrestle him for his belt at Blast.”
“Not that he should need more time to scrutinize Night Rider. The Angel of Death is a WCF journeyman, having nearly as many runs with the company as I’ve had. A former People’s Champion and a two Time Tag Champion, Misters Rider and McMorris have crossed paths before. I’m nearly positive they were stablemates in one of those dark, brooding factions Night Rider is most famous for putting together. Anarchists of Darkness? Aspirants of Decay? Something like that. My apologies, I have so many angles running concurrently I’m forgetting the past efforts of others. It is interesting to note there would be no better time for the quasi-supernatural contract killer to reform the old Acolytes of Doom clique, given the disturbingly high number of candidates that the company recently signed. Putting together another circus of social outcasts would be the only success Night Rider can expect to have in the coming days. He’s not winning the Internet Title at Blast and his team will be on the losing end tonight. Night Rider might be a multi-time champion in WCF, but that’s having the knack of being in the right place at the right time. Even with his size and unlikely agility Mister Rider is average at best in the ring. He’s not as good as me or any of my teammates, though I do consider him the second most dangerous man we will be facing at Slam.”
“The third dangerous by default would be Freezer Burn. I noted with some bemusement that two weeks ago prior to our tag match Mister Hammon spent some considerable time to call me out personally during his hype promo. He called me ‘pitiful’ and a ‘has-been’ that was not worth his time. This was right before he promised we would meet again, in singles competition, where he would put me in my place. I can’t decide if his rant was more ironic or desperate. This corpse of a wrestler more desiccated than the actual zombie he’ll be fighting alongside Sunday is accusing me of being a wash up? Mister Hammon, you’re a hack. A rambling old coot so needy for attention you went with the ‘false messiah’ canard hoping it would gain traction with the WCF Galaxy. Bad timing on your part, given since your ‘revelation’ at least two more religious kooks were added to the roster. But I tell you what, Mister Hammon; since you were so eager for my personal attention; after the WCF Classic, after I settle accounts with Brent Alpine and Percy Macro; you have next. Does that work for you, Freezer Burn? I hope so. Until then you can enjoy the preview of how our match will go by taking part in a losing effort against me. Again.”
“That leaves Drax Durant as the last man who challenges me and my fellow WCF Classic Finalists at Slam. Like my teammate Nathan Chambers, Mister Durant is a recent addition to the company, coming in after whatever happened in Mexico, uh, happened in Mexico. Unlike Mister Chambers, however, I don’t see much main event potential in the Straight Edge Savior. He’s good enough in the ring to be there when his side won the opportunity to lose to Zombie McMorris at Blast, but I think that moment of serendipity will be the high point of Mister Durant’s career. He could prove me wrong, of course. The idea of winning the Internet Title and using WCF’s vast social media platform as a bully pulpit from which to spread his pro-abstinence screed may be appealing enough to him that he pulls off the upset of the century at the next Pay Per View, but I doubt it. Just as I doubt he will be much of a factor Sunday.”
“I’ve run down the men I will be facing Sunday, figuratively and literally. But they won’t be the ones who decide the outcome of the match: it’s us. Myself, James Chevalier, Nathan Chambers, and Jeff Purse are the better wrestlers. And if we work as a cohesive group, as a team, then our opponents should have no chance. The issue is: can we do that? In a week the four of us will be fighting for the highest prize in this great sport, in a match that by its very nature allows for rules to be bent, for corners to be cut. And when that contest comes, you can be sure I will fight as hard as anyone, using any advantage I can, to win. Before that, though, we have this tag match at Slam. We shouldn’t be operating as enemies Sunday, or even rivals; we should want to make it clear to everyone watching we are the superior competitors and the ones deserving the opportunity the WCF Classic gives. It’s clear Seth booked this match because he sees the inherent suspense in having men who in a week will be tearing each other apart forced to work together for a goal that seems superfluous. But winning in WCF should never be seen that way. That’s why I pledge, on my honor, to set aside the differences I have with Mister Chambers and work with him to defeat our opponents. And that I promise Misters Purse and Chevalier I will put forward my best effort Sunday, and that after we win I will offer my hand to all of you in the name of good sportsmanship. That’s what you, and the entire WCF Galaxy, deserves.”
