Post by Mikey eXtreme on May 10, 2019 22:58:28 GMT -5
THE BOOK OF EXTREME
It was raining hard in Brooklyn, and the bus that Mikey eXtreme was riding was barely able to stop in time for a small group that chose to cross on a don't walk light. It's funny, you always think you have enough time, that you're quick enough, until you're not.
That's where Mikey was with WCF ENDGAME. He knew he was quick enough to get across the threshold first, he knew he was hard enough to rip through his opponents. But, what if he wasn't? What if he wasn't good enough? It wasn't hard to second guess yourself in a match that was full of WCF Legends (and Andre Holmes, what a bum?). But, what if Mikey couldn't get the job done?
Was everything for nothing? If Mikey went out without that title, could he truly call himself the KING OF EXTREME? In theory, he could, but would it be believable? Would he become a joke?
The B82-SBS bus was driving down King's Highway, a fitting path for a man destined to be the true King of Darkness, Ride the King's Highway, baby. A path that he had been taking regularly the past few weeks as he contemplated his future. He had a war coming up with Ryan Lockhart for the AW World Championship, and Torture was trying to get him locked down to a full time AW contract, that until recently, Mikey never would have even thought about. WCF was his home. WCF was the only thing he’s known for so long that it feels weird for him being billed at the largest spectacle that AW has ever known.
But, before that happens, Mikey has his last true date with the WCF. Mikey will be stepping into that WCF ring one more time to show the world why he is the Greatest Competitor that this sport has ever seen, and he gets to the opportunity to add gold to his name one last time.
The bus pulled over at one of the stops, riders exited and new riders filled almost instantly. The rain made people less likely to walk, and the bus was always packed. The windows were fogged over and you could barely tell where you were, but Mikey didn’t seem to care. He might not know where the bus was but he could just feel that it wasn’t his stop, and if he did miss his stop he would just take the bus to Coney Island and figure it out. That was the thing about the SBS, the Select Bus Service, it didn’t stop at every stop, just the more frequented stops. Mikey didn’t really have a destination in mind, he was riding the bus to relive the past, to do the things that he did before he was a “star,” before people knew who he was. Today, he was just a punk teen without a purpose, again.
The bus pulled over again, this time at 86th St, and Mikey hopped off the bus. It was loud, the rain was pouring down, and there was a subway train coming to a stop above him. A bum was sitting on a chair under the overpass asking passerbys for quarters. Mikey rolled his eyes at her, in disgust, and walked right past her as he opened the large umbrella over his head. He could head over to L&B Spumoni Gardens from here, but he was never a fan of their pizza, despite many claims of “Brooklyn’s Best!” They were okay, nothing to rave about. Instead, Mikey headed across the street and ordered two slices and a drink from a pizza joint under the train station, paid, and sat down.
doc: Really, Mikey? You come all the way over here and you ain’t going to L&B? Tsk tsk tsk.
Mikey rolled his eyes.
This wasn’t a Brooklyn pizza tour, this was a moment for Mikey eXtreme to clear his mind. This was a chance for Mikey to get back down to the “nitty gritty,” and get himself ready for the END. Darkness was on the horizon, much like it was over Brooklyn during this storm. There was no coming back from this, this was the END of WCF. The END of the Hardcore Championship. The END of everything you’ve ever known. One of the longest reigning federations out there, brought down to rubble at the feet of the KING of DARKNESS.
mikey extreme: This is just as good, Doc. Maybe even better.
Mikey could feel the gasp of horror that was unable to escape the mouth of Doc. He almost enjoyed the reaction, as he takes the final bites of his slice, followed by a short gulp of the remainder of his drink. He would walk up 86th street and feel the wind blowing as he cleared his mind on the road to his final WCF Hardcore Championship.
II
mikey extreme: Frankie, do you want to die?
A cold hard stare into the camera.
mikey extreme: I ask this as if it is a question, when we all know that you have no say in the matter. You're stepping into a ring that you don't belong in because across from you stands the sadistic face of violence. Across from you stands your biggest fear: somebody better than you.
You are one of the most decorated individuals in this companies existence, but we both know that you can't hold a candle to me. You were lucky that you were able to thrive in an environment that was bare of predators like me. You were lucky to compete in a company that had not seen brutality like what I bring, and I will be bringing that brutality to you Frankie.
I will be bringing you down to your knees, where you will beg for mercy. Begging on deaf ears because there is no mercy when it comes to me. There is no easy way out for you. This is the END, Frankie. This is the end of you having any matter in the eyes of the world. You will fall away, out of the public eye, because nobody cares about people like you.
They are all around you, bigging you up. Hyping you to the moon, but once I snap these fingers, and the dust settles..?
A smile comes across Mikey's face.
mikey extreme: You'll be gone. You'll be defeated. You'll barely be a memory.
And they'll continue to talk about me. They'll continue to praise me because I am the Greatest Competitor in Wrestling.
It's not even close.
Mikey turns his attention to Odin Balfore,
mikey extreme: Sure, Odin dethroned me. Sure, he humiliated me. Sure, he took everything I worked for.
But it wasnt because he was better, no. I merely slipped up. The ring was slippery those days and I didnt have enough time to prepare. I am prepared now, though. Prepared to go to the biggest War this world has ever seen, bigger than that alien invasion horror movie shit that happened not too long ago, you remember that shit?
Carnage is coming to New York and it ain't Cletus Kasady.
This is our last war inside that WCF ring, Odin, and I'll be damned if I'm going to allow you the pleasure of the ultimate humiliation. That pleasure is all mine and when I pin you in the middle of that ring, the world will finally know who the real GOD is.
Mikey eXtreme.
Mikey glides his hand over his scalp. He sits in a dark room, his face is the only thing visible. His eyes are bright and draw the viewer in. It's a shootout in Brooklyn and Mikey carries the big guns.
mikey extreme: Do you think that piece of shit, Andre Holmes is going to show up this time?
He chickened out of the Age of Ultron match, fleeing Mexico with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Do you think this match is going to be any different? The world knows that hes a coward. The world knows that he has no shot in there with the reigning Hardcore Champion of the Year.
Yeah, he might look good in there with Oblivion and Speede, with FPV and Odin.. but this is my match to win. This is my championship. This is my entire fucking world and if you think for one moment that I'm going to allow anyone to take this from me?
Mikey's voice cracked, he was emotional. He wanted more than anything to become Hardcore Champion once more. He wanted to be remembered, needed to be remembered. His eyes were on the future but his pride was rooted firmly in the past. He needed these accolades to feed into his ego. He had to become Hardcore Champion again, he just had to.
mikey extreme: Since day one, since that first clusterfuck to open my very first Slam, all I ever wanted to become was WCF Hardcore Champion. I tried, and tried, and tried again. But it always escaped me. I was always outdone at the very last second and it hurt. It hurt more than you'll ever know.
I questioned myself every time. I thought about hanging up the boots and leaving. I didn't deserve to step into that ring if I wasn't able to prove myself.
I began to drink heavily and second guess everything. Why wasn't I good enough?
But then it all clicked. Everything came together perfectly and I went on to become one of the greatest Hardcore Champions of all time. I went on to show the world that I mattered, that I belonged, and more importantly that there is nobody better than me. Not Odin, not FPV, not Roy Speede, Oblivion, or Andre Holmes.
Me.
Only me.
I am the Hardcore Champion that the WCF deserves and I will be that Champion, come Endgame.
Mikey felt it deep down. He knew that it was possible he was inching closer to that reality. There wasn't much time left and as each day ticked away, Mikey's confidence grew.
mikey extreme: This match is something out of a time warp, the best wrestlers from the history of this company from all eras, and Andre Holmes.
It's almost something you would see in a lost of dream matches where they select the greats of a division and stick them together.
Sadly, once they added my name into this match it made the match too one sided for anyone to care about.
Oblivion? A monster that should be feared. A monster that just seemed to dwindle once a true monster like myself emerged onto the scene. Why? Because I am real fear. I am what nightmares are made out of and I will be that nightmare once the bell rings and Jakob Lister realizes he is trapped in there with me. This is my world. This is the Hardcore Championship. This is everything to me.
This is my past, present, and future.
All Hail the King.
The Hardcore King.
The Last Hardcore Champion.
All Hail Mikey eXtreme.
The scene fades to complete black.
