Chamber of the Troll (RP 2/3)

['The Shine' Brent Alpine]

WCF Slam April 20th 2014



As he is launched into the air, Alpine reverses it into a huricanrana. He immediately picks up McMorris and hits the Glow Worm.



Zach Davis: Glow Worm! No one's ever kicked out of this...



As a groggy Alpine starts to cover him, 'Gold' by Prince blares over the PA system.



Zach Davis: What?! That's Alpine's old music.



Suddenly, Percy Micro hobbles out to ringside. The electrolarnx on his collar lights up in red and he speaks.



Percy Micro: Brent, how could you not let me know you were still alive? ME - your manager, Percy Micro. Do I mean nothing to you?



The distraction allows McMorris to get up and hit the Axe Wound gutwrench powerbomb. He covers.



ONE...



TWO...



THREE!



Kyle Steel: Here is your winner and number one contender to the United States Title... Zombie McMorris!



Percy Micro trots to the back as McMorris celebrates in the ring with his manager Buddy Roman.



Zach Davis: Alpine's first pinfall defeat!



Erin Robbins: Of course - the Honey Badger is just that damn good.

Brent Alpine tosses and turns in his bed. His eyelids pulse rapidly as he groans and writhes in intense discomfort. The nightmare continues.

WCF Blast 2014



ZMAC hits the ring at the same time as Brent and lays him out over the ropes with a big boot!



Zach Davis: DLO with the Shell Shock! Back pack stunner!



Erin Robbins: But ZMAC runs up underneath him and scoops him on his shoulders.



Zach Davis: Jordan Ciserano is up on a high angle back pack stunner! Hes on DLO's shoulders and DLO is on ZMACS!



WHAM!



Erin Robbins: Good night Jordan.



The pin..



1..



2...



3 !!!



Zach Davis: Wow! What a move! The Vapor Kings pick up another win and keep rolling on with the momentum.

In the dream, the ring bell tolls at uncountable decibels. It startles Alpine and abruptly wakes him from his slumber. Consequently, his little companion tucked up next to him, Percy Micro, also wakes with a grunt and a snort. His headset light flashes on.

Percy Micro: Esther on your mind again?

Alpine turns the bedside light on and erratically rubs his red raw eyes.

Brent Alpine: Of course not.

He sits upright and directs a suspicious gaze towards his porcine partner.

Percy Micro: What?! Do you need more therapy?

Brent Alpine: You tell me.

Percy Micro: I don't follow...

Brent Alpine: I saw it as clear as day. I have been in the WCF before like everyone keeps saying... but you keep denying. Before the hospital. Zombie's right... ISN'T HE?

Percy's light goes out. This provokes Alpine into grabbing the miniature pig with a firm hand.

Brent Alpine: You will tell me the truth! I wrestled in the WCF before. Zombie drove me into a mental breakdown and I quit like a butthurt child. All that talk of 'unusually high brain activity' and 'accelerated cognitive functioning' at the hospital was simply your boss paying off the psychiatric staff to shield me from the truth. ADMIT IT!

There is still no activity on Percy's headset. Instead, the pig squeals anxiously.

Brent Alpine: TELL ME!

Alpine starts to strangle the pig but relents and falls in a dejected heap on his bed. Just as he reaches utter despair, the headset illuminates again.

Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine. My master has informed me that you are now ready to learn the truth of the missing two years of your consciousness. Turn on your laptop.

Hurriedly, Brent retrieves his laptop from his bedside cabinet and switches it on. Immediately, an e-mail notification pops up. It is untitled, from an anonymous sender and has an attachment called 'ALPINE 2014'. Brent clicks on it with some ambivalence.

---

Shelves of books snake around the building like a prison of publications, a maze of words, a forest of literature. There is a large circular clearing signified by a rainbow cross stitched carpet. A single chair is positioned at the back of this area. It seats 'The Shine' Brent Alpine and Percy Micro on his lap. A group of young children sit facing him; their little faces wide and bright with awe. Alpine holds up a book. Its cover image is of Alpine in a knight's armour with two heads speared through a sword's blade, kebab style. The heads resemble Zombie McMorris and Nathan Chambers. The book appears to be titled 'Chamber of the Troll'.

Brent Alpine: Children, I am so much more than a wrestler. As you will hear today, I am also a poet. And I most definitely know it. So, without further ado, let me read from my latest book - Chamber of the Troll! 

One of the only two children with lines of dialogue (because the rest are on cheaper supporting artist contracts) sits up excitedly and speaks. He's a black boy of 5 years old with shoulder length cornrows and cute gaps between his ever changing teeth. Let's call him 'Boy' because... why it's against child protection laws to name minors on internet message boards with high proportions of men who pretend to be wrestlers.

Boy: Hey Bwent... Can I do one of the voices?

Brent Alpine: No.

The boy sits back down, as if scolded.

Brent Alpine: Once upon a time...
There lived a troll in a dark, dark cave
He was big and ugly and smelt of a grave
He was always growling, he knew no peace
All the town feared this beast named Maurice

Yet one man wasn't afraid, one man was brave
He vowed to go and dig up that grave
'If anyone can slay Maurice, surely I can'
Claimed the dashing Prince, Sir JoNathan

JoNathan was most unlike the troll
His mirror reflected back a pretty doll
But he disappointed the Queen which led to his removal
He only wanted Mommy's love and approval

But this is not a tale of pure woe and hate
It's a battle of the heart, a fight of fate
You see, Maurice and JoNathan had a mutual fire
A fair maiden in whom they held equal desire

She lived in a castle that led to the sky
A lofty climb on which many men would die
Her current betrothed could not truly obtain
Her heart despite all the dragons he'd Slane

A little blonde pig-tailed girl in pink spectacles gets up curiously and puts her hand in the air, as if summoning the teacher. Let's call her 'Girl'.

Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine will not be taking questions today. Sit down!

Girl: Bu.. but... I just wanted to know the Princess' name.

Brent Alpine: Her name is... err... Princess Whirl. Whirl Detitel.

Girl: That's a silly name.

Brent Alpine: Shut up and go die.

The little girl bursts into tears. She runs off, crying for her parents.

Brent Alpine: Good. Now the book critic is gone, I'm going to let you literary purists continue to enjoy the story.
The Princess shone with glitter and gold
But never could find the one who fit her mould
So she observed with hope as JoNathan crept
Towards the dank cave where the evil troll slept

He drew his sword and had the blade braced
Until he realised that his hair was out of place
He remembered the Queen's cries of 'IMPERFECTION'
Another pretty boy lost to natural selection

Maurice ripped off his face with gnarly teeth
Spilling blood and brains and veins beneath

More children begin to cry and run off in terror. 'Boy' is left as the sole audience member to Alpine and Percy. He is still a captive listener.

Boy: This is so cool!

Brent Alpine: You can go die too, kid.

The boy quietens.

Brent Alpine: So to no one's sadness, Prince JoNathan fell dead
Yet his measly organs did not leave the troll well fed

Maurice left his cave to pursue the fair wench
Sensing danger, her betrothed tried to quench
But this was a dragon too far, a troll too mean
He wrapped his guts as a gift to his future Queen

He looked upon her, they were all alone now
But she saw he wasn't sufficiently endowed
At that moment, he knew he could never have her
No matter what he did, he would always deter

He always fell short, he could never be fed
So he decided to feast upon her instead
If he couldn't have her, no one could
He wanted to eat her like a good troll should

Just as she got caught between his jaws
A new hero emerged to rapturous applause
Arise Sir Brentalot to win the day
There was a heart to win and a Maurice to slay

He fed the troll with his shining blade
And then licked the poon of the fair maid
Maurice got full and puked up his lungs
His eyes popped out, he spoke in tongues

The last thing to die was the Tommy Lee Bitch Beater
He sandwiched it in Subway to make it taste sweeter
Watching this, the Princess became drippin' wet
So Sir Brentalot laid her down for a sweat

He wrapped her round his waist, drilled her from behind
She screamed and she orgasmed out of her mind
Then he flipped her round and onto her front
So he could fuck her hard up the c...

He is interrupted by an army of angry parents accompanied by a mousy book store assistant girl.

Girl: Mommy, Daddy, make the bad man go!

Book Store Assistant: This man definitely isn't here for an official book signing. SECURITY!

She radios through to security. Within seconds, a large team of them arrive and escort Alpine and Percy out of the building to no resistance. As he is about to be shooed through the door, he turns back to the crying children.

Brent Alpine: And they all lived happily ever after. Except for Maurice, JoNathan, Slane the Betrothed and 4 other morons I didn't bother to mention.

---

During a fractious and humid evening where the blackening sky is tinged blood red, Brent Alpine is right in the centre spot of the world renowned MetLife Stadium, surveying the behemoth structure. It is empty apart from Alpine and Dallas Culture who is seated on a front row seat with Percy Micro in his lap.

Brent Alpine: MetLife Stadium, home of the Giants, the Jets, the Clippers and the Lakers.

Speaking of giants, we're meters away from where Giants fell back in 2010. A mighty Wrecking Ball took its best shot and showed that stadium what it got. How appropriate that the arena where Jimmy Hoffa was allegedly buried under questionable circumstances would be brought to dust. Who'd have thought that something so great could be swept away to leave no trace?

The WCF isn't unfamiliar with giants falling. The relentless pace of staying at the top has taken its toll on far too many men. Natural ICE Beckman sparkled like a shooting star but faded as soon as you could say 'burn out'. Jonny Fly ruled the roost for years but was last seen losing to Teddy Blaze for the title I hold in my arms...

The camera zooms in on Alpine's TV Title.

Brent Alpine: ... and playing around as a feeble sidekick to the far inferior Joey Flash. Speaking of Flash, he proved true to his name. He flashed and disappeared because he could not SHINE. Bobby Cairo came and went repeatedly like a thief in the night, desperately hoping someone wouldn't turn the lights on and expose him for the overrated waste of air that I know him to be. Corey Black fell so hard he made his bi-monthly return from the shadows to feud with the only member of the roster he's now capable of beating, Vic Viceroy. And even that's a stretch.

Then there came DUNE. OOH MIGHTY DUNE. Let's all fear Dune... until, oh wait, he's really quite average. Bye bye Dune.

The giants fell. And so did I.

Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine, are you certain this is a good idea?

Brent Alpine: This is my redemption, Percy. Let me now confront the elephant in the room.

Dallas Culture: Stadium.

Brent Alpine: Right, stadium. Percy has made a full disclosure of everything that you all knew but I was the only one to have forgotten. I WAS here before in the WCF and like the giants I named earlier... I also fell.

The narrative looks juicy, doesn't it? I lose a couple of times to Zombie McMorris - one of them with a jobber partner, by the way, and the other through Percy distracting me. Zombie trolls me. I break down and quit. Twice. Like a chain reaction, it all fits so beautifully. Any story repeated enough can become gospel to millions. Regardless of the fact that it's a narrative only Zombie and his ego affirming rent boys are pushing.

I won't lie. My WCF career has subject to a jealous assault from moment 1 by a secret web of WCF dinosaurs. We're talking the likes of Zombie, Cairo, Price, Balfore, Gravedigger, Calzone, Corey Black, et cetera et fuckin' cetera. They're an incestuous illuminati clan of good old boys who will do anything to keep sovereignty over this federation, even if it means fighting among the family to maintain their deception.

They are the group responsible for hazing, holding bullshit wrestlers courts backstage, positioning themselves as the moral compasses despite not having a moral bone in their bodies and spiritually representing some sort of 'Godfather', wise elder brotherhood of the WCF. They have been a millstone around this company's neck and that neck was only going to snap.

With the vaguely talented guys like Orbit, Beckman and, currently, Mikey eXtreme, they put a condescending arm around their shoulders and took them under their egomaniacal wing. 'Hey buddy, we can lead you to the top!' they promised. Yet they always just kept that person dangling just below them on the totem pole while giving them the occasional scrap from their table. A sloppy seconds bone to chew on.

The second I walked in here, they knew they couldn't manipulate me. They were fully aware they were dealing with someone truly effervescent. My light was too bright for them. So they set to work to make every day of my time here a living hell. They turned the roster and crew members against me, they got in Seth's ear about minimising my exposure. Every day they hit me with subtle psychic attacks and tried to bully me from their lofty but very unstable perches. 

They failed. I continued to rise. In a short space of time, I eviscerated a succession of former World Champions - Logan, Oblivion, Jonny Reb, Nathan von Liebert and, most recently, Steve Orbit.

My biggest mistake was to turn my back on Percy Micro and join up with a group of ragtag idiots known as Sequitus. They were outcasts and I felt sorry for them. They wanted to fight the power and I was willing to help them. I saw them as a bit of a project, I suppose. I had some romantic notion of taking several of the most pathetic, runt of the litter individuals on the roster and turning them into stars. For a while, it seemed to work. Some of my magnificence had started to rub off on them by osmosis.

In fact, Sequitus versus Pantheon was many pundits' pick for Feud of the Year 2014 and I helped that group of losers come within a whisker of taking down the biggest stable in the company's history.

My biggest and only weakness is sympathy and I showed it in spades to Sequitus. So much so that my own career began to suffer.

Percy Micro: You should never have betrayed me.

Brent Alpine: You're right and I'm so sorry.

Every light needs to be channelled. The Sun needs the Moon to keep the Earth in orbit. Percy was my Moon and when I let him go, everything went out of control.

I need to be guided. My talent is so broad and my mind is so great that I can easily wander if I'm not steered correctly. When Percy left, I lost my centre. My brain was concentrating its immense power onto so many different areas that my neurology and physiology became taxed. This led to a progressive meltdown, which is why I quit the first time. The progressive meltdown led to a sudden explosion before War and I was in a psychiatric hospital for nearly two years following.

While I was going through this highly complex and unique situation, you smelt weakness. You can smell weakness because it has a familiar scent to your own stench. You are like a fly swarming around steaming shit, a vulture surrounding a carcass. The trouble for you was that this was not weakness. My experience was totally the opposite; I was too magnificent that my nervous system was struggling to cope. Yet I was not around to frame this correctly and you portrayed it as weakness. You leapt upon it and hilariously claimed dominion over me.

So yes, I was a fallen giant. But you, Zombie, no matter how many stilts you attach to yourself, you will never be a giant here.

Towards the end of my recuperation, I had a bizarre dream of a young Nigerian metrosexual boy and then... I woke up.

Alpine strides confidently to the end zone. He symbolically touches his belt down on the freshly sheared grass.

Brent Alpine: Back to you and your secret web of allies, Zombie.

How are you feeling? You seem more insecure than normal. I don't blame you. Not only has your army of dinosaurs started to become extinct but I am back and ready to consign you to history where you belong.

Cairo's gone, Odin's gone, Price has gone. Your people have deserted you. Evil always consumes itself eventually just as trolls always eat too much and burst. The controversial events in Mexico saw many more roots pulled out of the garden but you've stubbornly stuck around rather than joined your bumhole ticklers in some infinite hell.

I'm not surprised they haven't come back for you, except for Corey of course. Locker room whispers indicated that they saw you as their joker in the pack. The card that no one wanted but couldn't quite throw away. You spoke so much about sandbags and blurred the lines of kayfabe so often that you made them all uneasy. Your complete lack of self control threatened to expose them.

You keep dreaming about some World Title feud with your bosom buddy Corey after Ultimate Showdown. Well, if he makes it past Vic Viceroy, your dream might come true... but it'll be, at most, the Hardcore, Internet or People Titles you'll be contesting for.

Corey dominated the WCF during its infancy when it was a minor league indie fed. Then, the actual competitors started showing up and he went into part time coattail hanging. After the WCF's recent implosion, Corey had the opportunity to join the rest of your vile friends in that other fed. But WCF looked too appealing to him. It reminded him of the desolate wasteland he started in. Well, I'm afraid he's well mistaken. There has been a lot of rubble and ruin around this place in recent months but I will use that to build an even greater federation that will surmount the WCF's previous peak. My influence and very presence here will radiate out to young talent and will bring glory upon glory upon glory. This time, though, the fed will not be infected by a poisonous spider web that tries to suffocate and extinguish any glimpse of light.

I notice that you have made many references to the fact that you were the only one from the Ultimate Showdown main event to show up for a week. Good for you son. You've already busted your load and it wasn't very impressive. You're so desperate for attention and rebuttal like an infant that's longing for Mommy's tit. You're especially hungry for my response because you're secretly in love with me. I bet, right now, you're jacking that shrivelled STD infested thing you call 'Tommy Lee Bitch Beater' to blister. I'm feeding you, troll - EAT UP!

Over 4 years in the WCF and you've proved you're a man of endurance and niche. You're a two time Hardcore Champion and that's the same modality by which you've approached this match. The Hardcore division rewards the workrate types. If you throw enough shit at the wall, eventually it will stick in the Hardcore division. That's exactly what you're doing - hurling faeces indiscriminately like you always do. That's why you care about deadlines and how many promos people shoot. Those incapable of quality always boast about their quantity. Or at least that's what Bonnie Blue told me about you... Ooh, too soon? Did I hit a nerve? Because you barely hit hers.

Your other main forte is the Internet division. Now I've never been a part of it because only complete basement dwellers and cowards spend so much time on their computers posting abuse to other basement dwellers. I prefer to abuse you in person, Zombie, and I will this Sunday. You're a 4 time Internet Champion... truly a legend in your own cyberspace.

I'm also aware that you are a 1 time Tag Champion but we all know who was the force behind that team and I ended his career a couple of months ago. You lucked into a US Title reign too through the Ultimate Showdown match two years ago. Yet you lost it a month later. You're a 1 time TV Champion also. I'm a 2 time TV Champion. I lost it last time through disqualification, not pinfall and I'll lose it again this Sunday. Again, not by pinfall... but by trading it for the World Title.

In four years you've sure been productive but ultimately ineffective. You talk an OK game but, when it comes to the ultimate showdown, the matches that count... you always wilt. You will NEVER be World Champion. Ever. And you know it. You're not good enough. You're not even passable like the disappointing stream of recent Champions you mention like Slane, Purse, Oblivion and Logan.

You've spent years running your mouth, making self aggrandising claims that never quite come to fruition. You're the boy who cried 'Wolf'. At first, people raise their eyebrows and maybe share some trepidation. Then, when no wolf comes, your credibility wanes. Eventually you're left standing there shouting 'WOLF WOLF WOLF' and no one's listening because you've been shouting it since 2012 and your growl is sounding more and more like a fart in church. No Zombie, you won't be winning the WCF World Title this weekend. You're just as far from it now as you have been since you debuted. Just stay in your niche divisions and keep blowing down your houses of straw and sticks. My house is a house of bricks where Red Riding Hoods like you get swallowed whole.

In the build up to this match, you're defensively spending so much time trying to pre-empt any attack on you. I admire your self awareness but pointing out and owning your own flaws does not magically invalidate them. Some of my words against you might have been said before... for example, that you're only a niche guy... but they're true. I congratulate you for making our arguments for you.

You act like you're a fuckin Rembrandt of originality but, as far as I can see, you steal all your shit from Urban Dictionary. You walk around with a fat Jew businessman who continuously shouts 'MY CLIENT MY CLIENT' like an overblown hype machine. We've seen it all before, ZMAC. In fact, Dallas... you had some very apt words about Zombie...

Proud at finally being acknowledged, the unconventional Dallas Culture gets up off his seat and joins his cousin on the pitch.

Dallas Culture: If I can remember them...

He pauses, faking a difficult process of recollection.

Dallas Culture: Zombie McMorris, a man's words are a reflection of his level of consciousness. Your language is from the sewer and you have zero respect for the divine feminine. I say this with compassion and unconditional love but you speak filth because that is what you are. You are a low vibing life form on the same plain of etheric awareness as a typical komodo dragon. All you do is fume and charge around. You are like a dinosaur. All out for yourself, totally ego identified and wrapped up in base chakra issues.

He adopts a dumb voice and dinosaur-esque, stiff persona.

Dallas Culture: ZOMBIE WANT TIT. ZOMBIE WANT FOOD. ZOMBIE SHIT AND PISS. ZOMBIE WANT SEX AND WANT TO POOP ON FLOOR. MOVE OUT ZOMBIE WAY.

That is exactly your consciousness expressing itself; albeit less eruditely. You may have more of a vocabulary than a warthog but you are not far removed spiritually. You are incapable of love. I look into your eyes and they are totally glazed over like a frog. You have no depth and life to you. WHERE IS YOUR SOUL, ZOMBIE?!

Dinosaurs were powerful creatures. They got what they wanted, for a time. But where are they now? Extinct. They lacked the kundalini energy needed to evolve. Being completely devoid of love and totally self focused, they destroyed themselves.

Zombie McMorris, you may be scaring some people now... but 'The Vulture' Dallas Culture is not afraid. You are huffing and puffing but you will soon blow your own house down! That is your karmic destiny and the Universe will not yield to you.

You remind me of a bully called Simon in my Art class at school. I would create these glorious paintings, clay models and wax sculptures but Simon would tear them down whenever I was done. He was jealous of my abundance of creativity. Needless to say, I felt a twinge in my solar plexus chakra. However, after meditating, I had compassion for his prepubescent consciousness and ran my 5D model of forgiveness on him. Then I realised... the world is my mirror. What aspect of myself was Simon reflecting back to me?

The answer was that I could sometimes destroy things. I was not fully using my gifts in those days. So I decided to continue on with my beautiful artwork in spite of Simon's destructive ways. He eventually got tired and began to cry. He could see that I was unaffected. The more he tore down, the more I built up. The more he hurt me, the more I poured him with an abundance of blessings and pink light.

Zombie, you are just like Simon. You are totally devoid of creativity, love and vital life energy. Your ego identification will be your ruin. You may be roaring but you will soon burn yourself out. As I am aligned with the eternal Mother Nature and the supreme totality of divinity, I will never know lack. So you can continue to break us with your dark words but you will never make anything beautiful here in the WCF.

Alpine slow claps as Culture poses triumphantly in a standing lotus pose.

Brent Alpine: You go, Dallas! I've never been so proud of my cousin up until now. In fact, you've earned yourself the chance to finish my promo by talking about Nathan Chambers because, frankly, he's so monotonous that I would need a ton of amphetamines to keep awake after the very thought of him crosses my mind.

Dallas Culture: Of course.

Nathan Chambers, Namaste blessed one. Several weeks ago, my gracious cousin compassionately offered to guide you out of your endless karmic cycle of having to gain validation from your earthly mother. You're currently at the backlash stage again. You reached out to her and she rejected you again. Now you are spurning her back. This is playing out perfectly as the Universe intends. You have root chakra issues with the divine Feminine and have not accepted Mother Nature into your heart and consciousness. Until this pattern is interrupted, you are doomed to manifest this dynamic in all of your soul's incarnations.

Love Adrienne Chambers. Hold her tightly. Even when she neglects or berates you, pour onto her pure heart energy. This is the only way to end the misery you are experiencing.

You seem to project imperfection onto everything. This is because the world is your mirror and, despite your moniker of 'Perfection', you are etherically judging yourself for perceived flaws within your soul. The fact is that everything's perfect as it is. Everything is the Universe divinely expressing itself. Child murderers are perfect. Banks stealing from the poor are truly perfect. Even Zombie McMorris is perfect. These are all just expressions of consciousness and we are all living out the illusion of separation temporarily to learn soul lessons and play in the sandbox of experience.

Truly love yourself, Nathan. You were offered friendship by Brent several weeks ago but you abused that grace by refereeing his match unfairly. Why did you do this? Because Hurt People hurt people. You are so hurt, my child.

You are holding onto this dream of consummating this remarkably fast forming union between yourself and the WCF by winning the World Title mere months after debuting. But Sunday, less than a mile from here in the IZOD Center, your wedding night will end in a swift annulment. My cousin, Brent Alpine, will be making a cuckold of you with the bride that you think is yours. Your sense of identity will be crushed beyond repair and I fear you will leave the WCF and continue in your karmic logjam.

This could all be so different, Nathan. Come to us, myself, Brent and Percy and we can nurture you through your spiritual blockages. You can achieve oneness with us and begin to bathe in the afterglow of Brent's perfect light.

Percy Micro: Speaking of the IZOD Center, are you both aware that it's rumoured to close in 2017?

Brent Alpine: It won't close. It just will be used for a different purpose than to showcase sports and entertainment events.

Percy Micro: What purpose?

Brent Alpine: It will become a shrine to the greatest moment in the history of the universe... the location will be a mecca where many will pilgrimage to. The holy ground on which 'The Shine' Brent Alpine won his WCF World Title. Forever and evermore. Hit the lights... 

All the lights in the MetLife Stadium cut, plunging Alpine, Micro and Culture into darkness.

Brent Alpine: Because The Shine's too bright!