Post by Corey Black on Jul 31, 2016 15:28:01 GMT -5
A dark and stormy night in the distance in Denmark, a pretty normal sight. A small working class village is busy, getting ready to close up all the shops for the night and head on home. Corey Black, dressed in black, hoodie with the hood up, roams the dirt streets of this place he's called home for many years now. His castle, The Dethfort, rests above the village on a cliff, overlooking the settlement. The people of the village don't seem to mind a famous professional wrestler living there, as he seems to help out whenever asked. A baker calls over to Corey as he roams the streets, asking for assistance in bringing the day-old bread across the street to the orphanage. Corey doesn't hesitate, but also doesn't say a word.
Baker
Ah, Mister Black, thank you so very much. I knew I could count on an old friend like you.
Corey just nods as he places the bundles of bread at the doorstep and continues along his way. The baker is confused by the response of only a nod, but he has a duty. He knocks on the door and greets the orphanage worker with the bread. As Corey walks by another man, this time hauling garbage to a dumpster.
Man
Hey, you, help me out?
No response. Not even a nod. Just cold stare at the path ahead. Corey doesn't know this guy, he doesn't owe him anything. He just got to town and opened this store of overpriced junk nobody needs trying to cash in on tourist business.
Man
Well fuck you too, pal.
The man stumbles with all the garbage bags and one rips open, spilling soiled trash over the path. All the other shops and houses seem to be closed up for the night, shutters locked and the only remaining body in the streets is Corey. A slight fog rolls into the area, the precursor to a storm in this land. The storm in the distance draws closer, and it appears to be a doozy. Lightning lights up the sky from the West. Corey puts his head down as he makes his way out of the village and up the hill that leads to his cliff side home.
As he reaches the giant door to his castle, the rain begins pouring down from the heavens. He pushes the door open and then closes it behind him, entering his stone abode. The entryway is decked out in purple, with a coat of arms hanging from the wall featuring items from Corey's past. A ladder, a machete, a Creeping Death mask and a gold title belt. He takes his hoodie off and throws it onto a nearby chair as he walks into the main living quarters. The walls of his living quarters are plastered with large plaques with repica titles he has won, feet tall pictures of the match along with the date. A truly impressive sight when you consider there's 17 total for WCF alone.
Corey walks into the kitchen area to grab a soda, Diet Coke of course. He then heads out, back through the living quarters and down a spiral staircase into the basement of the castle. It's here where Corey Black trains. A black ring sits in the center of the room, with gym equipment lining the walls, a television, and anything else you may need in a training area. Nikki Venus is down here on a laptop, clicking away. The large flat panel TV above her lights up, showing Vic Viceroy's last match in WCF with Oblivion.
Nikki Venus
See how he moves? He gets distracted by the crowd and he can be caught off-guard with a well placed superkick. You love doing that.
Corey nods.
Nikki Venus
And now watch this..
She skips ahead to Oblivion stomping Vic and then pinning him.
Nikki Venus
You can beat Oblivion with your eyes closed and he destroyed Vic. He can blame the loss on you all he wants, he was in the ring with a former World Champion and he dropped the ball. Hard. The pressure he has to be facing by going against you and all your accomplishments - this guy's mother's boots are shaking for him, I can't imagine how his are quaking.
Corey nods again, then pulls out his cell phone and nods to Nikki. She smiles, adjusts her hair, and gives a thumbs up. A video is taken of Nikki Venus.
Nikki Venus
Sit down, Viceroy, I've got a story to tell you. You're not special in any way. You shouldn't feel honored or angry that you were the target of a couple attacks. The fact of the matter is you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's not personal in the slightest, Vic. You just represent everything that is wrong with WCF at this point in time. After the exodus of the top of the card, it allowed men like you to step into the company and immediately work your way up. No longer did you have to prove yourself to get a contract. You could have walked in, put your name down, and got yourself a paycheck. Back in the real WCF, ten - twelve - fourteen years ago, you had to be somebody to get into this company. You had to have a following, people needed to know your name. Look at this roster right now and tell me why Damian Kaine has a job. Who hired Meteoric Rise? What does Captain WCF actually DO for WCF? Psychopomp, Henry Spearman, I could go on and on for hours about these nobodies that came in when the main event left.
That's just it though. That main event didn't leave. The main event has never left. The 'top dog' as you put has never been out shined.
WCF lost Torture, Jayson Price, Dune, Howard Black and Joey Flash. But what WCF kept is what really matters. This company kept the only man in existence that cares enough to test the newcomers' fortitude. If you aren't up to snuff, he'll break your neck and make way for a real wrestler. A dozen or so men came into WCF, and it was Vic Viceroy that was chosen at random. You, Vic, represent the newcomers. So far, surprisingly enough, you've done alright for yourself. Every time Corey puts you down, you get right back up. Hell you even called in your buddies. But even a monster and a pure wrestler won't be enough to stop THE JOMSVIKING from dropping your corpse off the Jersey Boardwalk.
Do you realize exactly what you've got yourself into? It would have been wise to tuck your tail between your legs and retreat on back here to Club Chaos. Once Corey Black is done with you, you'll journey passed this shit hole and head right back to The Creepy Crawl to bounce for the men you try to be. You know what, I'll do you one better. Your ego is going to be raped so bad that you'll turn back into a partier. When drink after demoralizing drink passes through your gullet, remember the man that did this to you is the best wrestler you'll ever step foot in the ring with. Just like your college baseball career, you're going to drink away your only chance at glory in WCF. It's a shame you had to have balls the size of basketballs. But it was pretty clear you'd be the one after the first time Corey saw you, put you down, and you got right back up to mouth off. Ask Adam Young how that goes. Give Doc Henry a jingle and question his logic when he mouthed off to Corey for over a year and got dropped on his dome three times a month. You're just as cocky as they are with somehow even less of the talent they possess.
I find it amusing that a supposed 'street fighter' has to step into the squared circle to get his jollies. Corey Black is no back alley brawler. He's not a fist to fist fighter. You're taller, you're stronger, you weigh more - and you're outclassed. Let me be absolutely frank with you, you've never been in the right with a more dangerous human. What he lacks in stature, Corey MORE than makes up for in technique. Those elbows of his aren't the strongest, but they are the best because he trains day in and day out. He's not sitting at a club sipping on champagne, he's in the fucking dungeon working his ass off to make sure he can eliminate the scoundrels that plague WCF.
You've never seen your opponent speak or wrestle on anything but tape. The man you are tasked with attempting to defeat has never given you the time of day, and he won't, until you're face to face with him. He doesn't need to talk shit to you for weeks on end, endlessly using Twitter to get in your head and make you think you can't beat him. You KNOW you can't. He doesn't have to tell you that at all.
He's been known by many names. Creeping Death, The Human Horror Show, The Avenger, The King of All Wrestlers - all of them fit the man to a tee. But THE JOMSVIKING is the one that fits the most, and it will be shown at your expense, Viceroy. A warrior trained unlike any other. The vikings were ruthless and powerful men, but the Jomsviking were a class above. Like the Samurai or Spartans, the Jomsviking were trained to be the best of the best. And that, Vic Viceroy, is your opponent at Ultimate Showdown. A man coming for your blood simply because you think WCF owes you a debt of gratitude for merely existing on the same planet. A man that has taken a vow of silence until the ego of every single one of the new crop of WCF wrestler is knocked down a peg and they realize it's Corey Black's WCF - you just work in it.
Corey hits the button, stopping the recording and preparing it to be sent off to wcfwrestling.com. Nikki turns back to the laptop and begins another Vic Viceroy match, prepping Corey Black for his triumphant return to WCF action.
Baker
Ah, Mister Black, thank you so very much. I knew I could count on an old friend like you.
Corey just nods as he places the bundles of bread at the doorstep and continues along his way. The baker is confused by the response of only a nod, but he has a duty. He knocks on the door and greets the orphanage worker with the bread. As Corey walks by another man, this time hauling garbage to a dumpster.
Man
Hey, you, help me out?
No response. Not even a nod. Just cold stare at the path ahead. Corey doesn't know this guy, he doesn't owe him anything. He just got to town and opened this store of overpriced junk nobody needs trying to cash in on tourist business.
Man
Well fuck you too, pal.
The man stumbles with all the garbage bags and one rips open, spilling soiled trash over the path. All the other shops and houses seem to be closed up for the night, shutters locked and the only remaining body in the streets is Corey. A slight fog rolls into the area, the precursor to a storm in this land. The storm in the distance draws closer, and it appears to be a doozy. Lightning lights up the sky from the West. Corey puts his head down as he makes his way out of the village and up the hill that leads to his cliff side home.
As he reaches the giant door to his castle, the rain begins pouring down from the heavens. He pushes the door open and then closes it behind him, entering his stone abode. The entryway is decked out in purple, with a coat of arms hanging from the wall featuring items from Corey's past. A ladder, a machete, a Creeping Death mask and a gold title belt. He takes his hoodie off and throws it onto a nearby chair as he walks into the main living quarters. The walls of his living quarters are plastered with large plaques with repica titles he has won, feet tall pictures of the match along with the date. A truly impressive sight when you consider there's 17 total for WCF alone.
Corey walks into the kitchen area to grab a soda, Diet Coke of course. He then heads out, back through the living quarters and down a spiral staircase into the basement of the castle. It's here where Corey Black trains. A black ring sits in the center of the room, with gym equipment lining the walls, a television, and anything else you may need in a training area. Nikki Venus is down here on a laptop, clicking away. The large flat panel TV above her lights up, showing Vic Viceroy's last match in WCF with Oblivion.
Nikki Venus
See how he moves? He gets distracted by the crowd and he can be caught off-guard with a well placed superkick. You love doing that.
Corey nods.
Nikki Venus
And now watch this..
She skips ahead to Oblivion stomping Vic and then pinning him.
Nikki Venus
You can beat Oblivion with your eyes closed and he destroyed Vic. He can blame the loss on you all he wants, he was in the ring with a former World Champion and he dropped the ball. Hard. The pressure he has to be facing by going against you and all your accomplishments - this guy's mother's boots are shaking for him, I can't imagine how his are quaking.
Corey nods again, then pulls out his cell phone and nods to Nikki. She smiles, adjusts her hair, and gives a thumbs up. A video is taken of Nikki Venus.
Nikki Venus
Sit down, Viceroy, I've got a story to tell you. You're not special in any way. You shouldn't feel honored or angry that you were the target of a couple attacks. The fact of the matter is you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's not personal in the slightest, Vic. You just represent everything that is wrong with WCF at this point in time. After the exodus of the top of the card, it allowed men like you to step into the company and immediately work your way up. No longer did you have to prove yourself to get a contract. You could have walked in, put your name down, and got yourself a paycheck. Back in the real WCF, ten - twelve - fourteen years ago, you had to be somebody to get into this company. You had to have a following, people needed to know your name. Look at this roster right now and tell me why Damian Kaine has a job. Who hired Meteoric Rise? What does Captain WCF actually DO for WCF? Psychopomp, Henry Spearman, I could go on and on for hours about these nobodies that came in when the main event left.
That's just it though. That main event didn't leave. The main event has never left. The 'top dog' as you put has never been out shined.
WCF lost Torture, Jayson Price, Dune, Howard Black and Joey Flash. But what WCF kept is what really matters. This company kept the only man in existence that cares enough to test the newcomers' fortitude. If you aren't up to snuff, he'll break your neck and make way for a real wrestler. A dozen or so men came into WCF, and it was Vic Viceroy that was chosen at random. You, Vic, represent the newcomers. So far, surprisingly enough, you've done alright for yourself. Every time Corey puts you down, you get right back up. Hell you even called in your buddies. But even a monster and a pure wrestler won't be enough to stop THE JOMSVIKING from dropping your corpse off the Jersey Boardwalk.
Do you realize exactly what you've got yourself into? It would have been wise to tuck your tail between your legs and retreat on back here to Club Chaos. Once Corey Black is done with you, you'll journey passed this shit hole and head right back to The Creepy Crawl to bounce for the men you try to be. You know what, I'll do you one better. Your ego is going to be raped so bad that you'll turn back into a partier. When drink after demoralizing drink passes through your gullet, remember the man that did this to you is the best wrestler you'll ever step foot in the ring with. Just like your college baseball career, you're going to drink away your only chance at glory in WCF. It's a shame you had to have balls the size of basketballs. But it was pretty clear you'd be the one after the first time Corey saw you, put you down, and you got right back up to mouth off. Ask Adam Young how that goes. Give Doc Henry a jingle and question his logic when he mouthed off to Corey for over a year and got dropped on his dome three times a month. You're just as cocky as they are with somehow even less of the talent they possess.
I find it amusing that a supposed 'street fighter' has to step into the squared circle to get his jollies. Corey Black is no back alley brawler. He's not a fist to fist fighter. You're taller, you're stronger, you weigh more - and you're outclassed. Let me be absolutely frank with you, you've never been in the right with a more dangerous human. What he lacks in stature, Corey MORE than makes up for in technique. Those elbows of his aren't the strongest, but they are the best because he trains day in and day out. He's not sitting at a club sipping on champagne, he's in the fucking dungeon working his ass off to make sure he can eliminate the scoundrels that plague WCF.
You've never seen your opponent speak or wrestle on anything but tape. The man you are tasked with attempting to defeat has never given you the time of day, and he won't, until you're face to face with him. He doesn't need to talk shit to you for weeks on end, endlessly using Twitter to get in your head and make you think you can't beat him. You KNOW you can't. He doesn't have to tell you that at all.
He's been known by many names. Creeping Death, The Human Horror Show, The Avenger, The King of All Wrestlers - all of them fit the man to a tee. But THE JOMSVIKING is the one that fits the most, and it will be shown at your expense, Viceroy. A warrior trained unlike any other. The vikings were ruthless and powerful men, but the Jomsviking were a class above. Like the Samurai or Spartans, the Jomsviking were trained to be the best of the best. And that, Vic Viceroy, is your opponent at Ultimate Showdown. A man coming for your blood simply because you think WCF owes you a debt of gratitude for merely existing on the same planet. A man that has taken a vow of silence until the ego of every single one of the new crop of WCF wrestler is knocked down a peg and they realize it's Corey Black's WCF - you just work in it.
Corey hits the button, stopping the recording and preparing it to be sent off to wcfwrestling.com. Nikki turns back to the laptop and begins another Vic Viceroy match, prepping Corey Black for his triumphant return to WCF action.
