Post by dropkickgregory on Jun 23, 2016 21:35:21 GMT -5
(Sixteen months post injury)
Greg St. Matthews sits slumped in the easy chair surounded by beer cans and pill bottles. The last sixteen months had been complete hell on him and he was having trouble coping. All he could do was sit there and drink and pop pain pills. He sits there lost in thought.
" What if I'm really never able to wrestle again? What am I going to do? All I ever do is sit here and wallow in my own filth and self pity, I don't even remember the last time I tried to walk. Ya know what fuck this wallowing shit I gotta get up I've been damn near dead for the last year and a half and I don't intend on withering away to nothing"
St. Matthews starts to stand and grunts as the familiar pain in his back surged. He forces his way through the pain and to his feet to realize that the pain isn't as bad as he had expected. He started to walk around slowly at first then gradually the spring starts to return to his step. He walks to the mantle and looks at the PTW World Heavyweight title that PTW management had been so nice as to let him keep. Looking at the belt put a fire in his stomach. He was pissed and ready to get his shit back on track.
" I'm far away from the 235 pound heavyweight contender that I was but if I put some work in I should be OK."
He walks to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror and says aloud "what a piece of shit you turned into." He grimaces at himself and turns on the shower. After his shower he shaves his face and brushes his teeth and hair for the first time in days and pulls his long hair back into a bun. "Time for me to get back in shape." Just then he hears a knock on his door. It kind of startles him but he makes his way to the door. He looks through the peep hole and sees his sister and brother, Danielle St. Matthews and Tommy St. Matthews stood at the door patiently waiting for him to open the door. They had become Greg's angels over the last year and had kept him alive on more than one occasion so they we're pleasently surprised when a cleaned up Greg St. Matthews answered the door.
"Bub are you OK?" Danielle asked in some shock
"Yeah I'm good sister" Greg replied, "just tired of being a poor pathetic piece of shit. I'm sorry for everything guys thanks for being here for me but I need your help. I gotta get outta this house I need to do something, anything, I just need to feel alive."
"We'll we were going rock climbing you wanna come?" Tommy asked.
"Hell yes I wanna come." Greg replied happily.
(6 months later)
In the time since his decision to get back into life Greg St. Matthews had developed a new addiction, adrenaline. Anything he could do to feel alive he did. But even through all this he only wanted one thing, to win another championship. PTW had folded and was no longer an option. He was ready to give up hope when he was told about WCF in Reading he immediately got in touch with management and entered into training in anticipation of a main roster debut.
During his training Greg could feel the ring rust that had set in but after a few vigorous workouts he realized that his smaller size and lack of fear had actually done wonders for him. His moveset improved, he was quicker on his feet, and capable of things he didn't think he would be.
He thought to himself "I wish I could bitch smack that doctor that told me I would never wrestle again. I doubted myself for so long because of that prick and didn't have to. What a waste of my fucking life."
6 months later Greg St. Matthews made his debut in WCF but seemed to have a hard time getting a hold on himself. After each loss he would go back to the hotel and meditate and look at the Heavyweight title that had cost him a year of his life and the fire would be renewed in his gut. This week was especially important to him because he knew that a good showing at his first PPV may put his name in the ring for a title shot and that was his motivation.
St. Matthews walks into the arena to cut his Blast promo. As he walks he holds his PTW world heavyweight title in his hands. He walks through the main door to the locker room where he puts on his gear and awaits the camera man.
"You can start whenever you are ready Mr. St. Matthews," the camera man told him.
Greg St. Matthews looks at the PTW title one more time and feels the fire come back to him.
"I was a broken man once, I lived my life hopping from one addiction to another to another. I was nearly dead for a year and a half. I realized a few months ago however that no matter what I did there was really only one thing that I have ever needed and that is championship gold." He flashes the PTW title and continues "this title right here nearly cost me my career and in a round about way my life. I have a serious chip on my shoulder you could say but that's OK I live life to every extreme. I have a triple threat match coming up at Blast this Sunday against Severan King and The Heavy Metal Machine. I want both of you crazy bastards to know that I could care less about either of you. You are both just pissant stepping stones to my ultimate goal. Trust me you don't want to get in my way at Blast because I will run straight through both of you without so much as a second thought. And even better the match is a no disqualification match which is a terrible thing for you guys because I mean honestly, I jump off of bridges and shit what makes you think for a second that I'll have any regard whatsoever for your guys well being when I don't even care a bout my own. So bring everything you can get your hands on to the ring bring your friends, bring your family, bring weapons and get ready for the ass whipping that both of you really really need. Maybe when I'm done your "followings" will see you two for the tired pieces of shit that you actually are."
At that St. Matthews stands up and leaves the room slamming the door behind him. You hear him laughing to himself as he walks down the hallway and he starts to sing
"Hard row to sow by yourself"
The camera man cuts the feed and the camera fades to black.
Greg St. Matthews sits slumped in the easy chair surounded by beer cans and pill bottles. The last sixteen months had been complete hell on him and he was having trouble coping. All he could do was sit there and drink and pop pain pills. He sits there lost in thought.
" What if I'm really never able to wrestle again? What am I going to do? All I ever do is sit here and wallow in my own filth and self pity, I don't even remember the last time I tried to walk. Ya know what fuck this wallowing shit I gotta get up I've been damn near dead for the last year and a half and I don't intend on withering away to nothing"
St. Matthews starts to stand and grunts as the familiar pain in his back surged. He forces his way through the pain and to his feet to realize that the pain isn't as bad as he had expected. He started to walk around slowly at first then gradually the spring starts to return to his step. He walks to the mantle and looks at the PTW World Heavyweight title that PTW management had been so nice as to let him keep. Looking at the belt put a fire in his stomach. He was pissed and ready to get his shit back on track.
" I'm far away from the 235 pound heavyweight contender that I was but if I put some work in I should be OK."
He walks to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror and says aloud "what a piece of shit you turned into." He grimaces at himself and turns on the shower. After his shower he shaves his face and brushes his teeth and hair for the first time in days and pulls his long hair back into a bun. "Time for me to get back in shape." Just then he hears a knock on his door. It kind of startles him but he makes his way to the door. He looks through the peep hole and sees his sister and brother, Danielle St. Matthews and Tommy St. Matthews stood at the door patiently waiting for him to open the door. They had become Greg's angels over the last year and had kept him alive on more than one occasion so they we're pleasently surprised when a cleaned up Greg St. Matthews answered the door.
"Bub are you OK?" Danielle asked in some shock
"Yeah I'm good sister" Greg replied, "just tired of being a poor pathetic piece of shit. I'm sorry for everything guys thanks for being here for me but I need your help. I gotta get outta this house I need to do something, anything, I just need to feel alive."
"We'll we were going rock climbing you wanna come?" Tommy asked.
"Hell yes I wanna come." Greg replied happily.
(6 months later)
In the time since his decision to get back into life Greg St. Matthews had developed a new addiction, adrenaline. Anything he could do to feel alive he did. But even through all this he only wanted one thing, to win another championship. PTW had folded and was no longer an option. He was ready to give up hope when he was told about WCF in Reading he immediately got in touch with management and entered into training in anticipation of a main roster debut.
During his training Greg could feel the ring rust that had set in but after a few vigorous workouts he realized that his smaller size and lack of fear had actually done wonders for him. His moveset improved, he was quicker on his feet, and capable of things he didn't think he would be.
He thought to himself "I wish I could bitch smack that doctor that told me I would never wrestle again. I doubted myself for so long because of that prick and didn't have to. What a waste of my fucking life."
6 months later Greg St. Matthews made his debut in WCF but seemed to have a hard time getting a hold on himself. After each loss he would go back to the hotel and meditate and look at the Heavyweight title that had cost him a year of his life and the fire would be renewed in his gut. This week was especially important to him because he knew that a good showing at his first PPV may put his name in the ring for a title shot and that was his motivation.
St. Matthews walks into the arena to cut his Blast promo. As he walks he holds his PTW world heavyweight title in his hands. He walks through the main door to the locker room where he puts on his gear and awaits the camera man.
"You can start whenever you are ready Mr. St. Matthews," the camera man told him.
Greg St. Matthews looks at the PTW title one more time and feels the fire come back to him.
"I was a broken man once, I lived my life hopping from one addiction to another to another. I was nearly dead for a year and a half. I realized a few months ago however that no matter what I did there was really only one thing that I have ever needed and that is championship gold." He flashes the PTW title and continues "this title right here nearly cost me my career and in a round about way my life. I have a serious chip on my shoulder you could say but that's OK I live life to every extreme. I have a triple threat match coming up at Blast this Sunday against Severan King and The Heavy Metal Machine. I want both of you crazy bastards to know that I could care less about either of you. You are both just pissant stepping stones to my ultimate goal. Trust me you don't want to get in my way at Blast because I will run straight through both of you without so much as a second thought. And even better the match is a no disqualification match which is a terrible thing for you guys because I mean honestly, I jump off of bridges and shit what makes you think for a second that I'll have any regard whatsoever for your guys well being when I don't even care a bout my own. So bring everything you can get your hands on to the ring bring your friends, bring your family, bring weapons and get ready for the ass whipping that both of you really really need. Maybe when I'm done your "followings" will see you two for the tired pieces of shit that you actually are."
At that St. Matthews stands up and leaves the room slamming the door behind him. You hear him laughing to himself as he walks down the hallway and he starts to sing
"Hard row to sow by yourself"
The camera man cuts the feed and the camera fades to black.
