Post by Stephen Singh on May 12, 2019 12:19:30 GMT -5
Open with just my voice. That’s it. Just my words. No pictures painted, no scenes set, no depiction of something that will assuredly be a metaphor or an allegory or some other stretch of your simple imagination whose only purpose was to later be linked back to the match at hand. To whatever little story we’re telling or about to tell inside that ring.
No.
None of that.
Just my voice. Afterall, that’s what made me different, right? That’s why I’m a triple crown champion, an ultimate showdown winner, a two-time world champion: my words. That’s what brought me everything I got in this place, right? My words. My verbal violence. My devious dialogue. My vitriolic verbosity. My malignant monologuing. The shakespeare of shoot leaving them
That’s what I’m supposed to be doing here, right? Talking legacy? Falsely fellating the memory of my “career” here? Talking about what a lasting and significant imprint I’ve left on this place? Talking about how the WCF will never forget the name Steven Singh?
Heh.
The WCF is dead. Make no mistakes about it, it is past the point of no return. The talent pool today has demands that everyone who has been a part of this front office is unable to meet. So listen not to the hopeful words of veterans who’ve seen it rise from the ashes so many times one assumes it’s a mentally retarded phoenix.
The WCF is dead.
And the name Steven Singh...much like the name Ethan King...is already forgotten.
November 20, 2016
A random fuckin’ Slam
Lilith/Oblivision vs CAPTAIN PANTHEON/Steven Singh
Tag Team Title Match
Oblivion looks down at the downed Captain Pantheon before stepping over to Lilith to ask what she had done, but the brunette was having none of it as she throws a right hand right into Oblivions face, knocking the monster back. Lilith climbs back into the ring, the referee seemingly acknowledging the hit as a tag and Lilith BOOTS Oblivion right in between his legs, causing the monster to collapse onto the canvas in agony. Lilith grins down at the two men by her feet as she reaches down and grabs Captain Pantheon around his neck, picking him up off the canvas.
Freddy Whoa: Lilith looks like she's wondering what to do here…
Zach Davis: Lilith looks like she's going to go in for The Kiss of Death but does not plant her lips onto the Captains…
Freddy Whoa: KISS-LESS OF DEATH!!!
Zach Davis: What?
Freddy Whoa: I don't know. Lilith is going for the cover!!!
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
Zach Davis: NO! Steven Singh is in the ring and attacks Lilith!
The bell sounds.
Freddy Whoa: Lilith and Oblivion win... but by DQ?! No new Tag Team Champions?!
Zach Davis: Lilith's plan worked to a point - but she didn't count on Singh coming back!
Singh lifts Lilith up but Lilith shoves him away and out of the ring.
Freddy Whoa: What a coward.
Zach Davis: Not sure what we expected from this match, but... Not this.
The fans boo!
Zach Davis: What did we just witness!?
Freddy Whoa: I have no idea. Clearly, Lilith believes herself to be the new Tag Team Champions - which given the last few Title changes, anything can happen - but really, the ref called for a DQ there. Singh and Captain hung onto the belts.
Back to just me. A disembodied voice in a pitch black room. Speaking of “bodied,” what you just bore re-witness to was my first loss. See, Ethan, I’m giving everyone the walk down memory lane they think they want but I’m giving us the send off we need.
We’re not going to revisit my highlights, my best moments. Instead, we’re going to be dancing in the darkness of my failures. Because if we’re being frank here, that’s what this is. The WCF closing is a failure. You and I not getting this match, not closing our little saga when it still had the juice, is a failure. And our careers? They’ve been fucking failures.
I’d been in the most important wrestling federation in the world for less than three months and had finessed my way into a Tag Title reign with a sweet mentally disabled make-a-wish boy while absolutely pissing in Teo’s eye. Everything was on the upswing. I’d already made it clear how destined for greatness I was. And then I lose.
To fucking Lilith.
DQ or not, I could give two squirts. I lost to Lilith. It’s fitting though, Ethan. Because like it or not, her name is going to mean more to the history of the WCF than ours ever will. She can’t begin to compare to our win-loss records, our title history or our talent. But her name will be remembered. Loathed? Sure. But that’s what we’re supposed to be doing here isn’t it? Evoking some type of emotional reaction, right?
That’s one thing you could never muster you tween-faced-twink. No matter how good you were in the ring, no matter how much time and effort you put in and no matter how much everybody in the back said it was your time and you were truly deserving--you couldn’t make anyone FEEL anything. No one truly gave a shit about a single word you said or move you made. Yeah, we all acknowledged that it was skilled but no one cared. No one was moved by it. You didn’t even care, Ethan.
That was the problem. That was always the problem. No matter what, your apathy bled through and kept you from getting over that hump. From actually putting your fingers on that brass ring. What was it, Lionheart? Ironheart? I don’t remember and I don’t care. Whatever it was, it was a fucking misnomer. Because you had no golden goddamned heart. And we could all see it.
That’s what cost me my perfect record: apathy. I settled into complacency after steamrolling over and through every single mook and mulkie they’d put in my path. So I stopped that. I realized that anybody that’s signed a contact here is worth paying attention to. Even if, like you, they can barely pay attention to themselves.
Los Angeles, CA
February 26, 2017
Timebomb
Stephen Singh vs Joey Flash
World Title Match
Freddy Whoa: Sanchez is in the ring! David Sanchez has no business out here! He doesn’t even have the briefcase anymore!
Zach Davis: Captain is in his face trying to send him to the back but Sanchez doesn’t even look like he hears him.
Suddenly, Sanchez shoves Captain off of him and locks Joey Flash in his Single Wing Choke.
Freddy Whoa: M.99! M.99 on Flash! Sanchez is choking the life out of the World Champ!
Zach Davis: And that’s it! Captain Pantheon has to call for the bell! He’s….He’s DISQUALIFIED his tag team partner! Joey Flash retains the title!
Freddy Whoa: Holy shit, Steven Singh is barred from competing for the World Title...ever again!
Captain Pantheon is trying to pull Sanchez off the World Champ but the choke is cinched in tight. Meanwhile, Singh is back on his feet.
Freddy Whoa: Singh grabs Captain Pantheon from behind and…THIEF IN THE NIGHT!
Zach Davis: Singh is assaulting Captain Pantheon!
Singh picks his tag team partner back up and snaps him back down with another rolling cutter as Sanchez finally lets Flash’s body go limp to the mat. The two men look at each other and suddenly embrace.
Freddy Whoa: What is going on here?! The two men celebrate over carcasses of Joey Flash and Captain Pantheon as Singh demands his Tag Team title from the timekeeper.
Zach Davis: Wait a minute, who’s this?!
Freddy Whoa: #Beachkrew may be in shambles, but here comes Jared Holmes, and never one to do things alone, he’s brought other reinforcements!
And again you’re back from those exciting in-ring visuals to a black screen with just the dulcet tones of the Superstar to guide you. Do you like where I ended that scene, Ethan? You remember what came next? You, of course. Little, insignificant you. The crippled third leg of Everest. The only one of us that failed to turn our utter dominance into a World Title reign.
What’s worse, Ethan? David cementing his reputation as the great choke artist. As the man who could get the girl home but STILL manage not to fuck her. Even if it looked like it was going to be as easy as undoing the belt from a Dion Necurat for christ’s sake. So is it worse to be that guy or the guy who never even gets the girl home? The guy who can’t even get the girl to respond to him in the bar? The guy who the whole damn world seems to look at and go “Hmph, he definitely has a shot.” But in reality, you never do. You can never quite muster the chutzpah to swing the bat. So no homeruns like your Golden God and no strikeouts like the Mayor. Instead, just a DNP-the universe’s decision.
Anyways, this loss isn’t relevant because it kicked off our time together. It’s relevant because it was my SECOND shot at the world title and more importantly, The World himself, Joey Flash. The first time I didn’t have a shot. I had no idea what I was in for and to be perfectly honest, after I watched his very first promo I was done. He’d convinced me I didn’t belong in the ring with him. But then the way that match went...the way he felt in the ring...Made me think I did have a chance. Made me think I could move some pieces around, I could train a little harder, get a little stronger and I could dethrone Joey fuckin’ Flash.
And then I lost.
And then I knew what I know now as I shovel dirt onto the grave of WCF: I don’t belong in that conversation. I’m not in that Flash-Fly tier. Few are but I truly thought I was. But when you fail to best a man in back to back matches that you truly threw your absolute all into...Well then you learn something. But I learned that and instead of practicing new fighting techniques, I practicedpatience. I waited for moment where there were no Fly’s nor Flashes to swat off of the World Title. Then I came for the gold like a Thief in the Night.
And where were you? While I realized my place in the all-time echelons and used that knowledge to put my name under the heading of “WORLD CHAMPION” while I could...what did you do? You stood in that ring with me on that night...and failed. Your killer instinct failed, your intelligence failed, your ruthlessness failed.
Or maybe you didn’t want it? Because you knew that there’s only one thing that comes after a World Title win…
October 1, 2017
WAR XVI
John Rabid vs Teo del Sol vs Stephen Singh
World Title Match
Zach Davis: V-TRIGGER! HE HAS HIM BY THE ARM STILL! THE V-TRIGGER STOPPED THE BRASS KNUCKLES PUNCH AND RABID PULLS HIM AGAIN!
Freddy Whoa: V-TRIGGER! ANOTHER V-TRIGGER HOLDING HIM BY THE ARM! SINGH IS ON WOBBLY KNEES, HE CAN’T EVEN SEE RIGHT! RABID PULLS HIM AGAIN FOR THIRD TIME’S A CHARM!
Zach Davis: KINGDOM DESTROYER!!!!! KINGDOM DESTROYER!!!!! IT’S OVER! HE GOT THE KINGDOM DESTROYER!!! TEO DEL SOL IS FIGHTING TO GET IN THE RING, RABID HAS THE PIN ATTEMPT. IT’S A FIGHT BETWEEN TEO DEL SOL AND JOHN RABID. WHO WILL WIN FIRST?!
Freddy Whoa: ONE!
Zach Davis: TWO!
Freddy Whoa: THREE!
Zach Davis: THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! WE'VE GOT A NEW WORLD CHAMPION!
Freddy Whoa: John Rabid waited so long and went through so much to get to this point. He's given WCF everything he's got, but for one reason or another, he never got to the top of the mountain.
Zach Davis: ...Until now.
Freddy Whoa: Teo del Sol looks on from the outside, cursing to himself as Rabid is handed the World Title. What a moment for this man!
Zach Davis: Rabid climbs up one turnbuckle, holds the belt tight to his chest for one moment before raising it high above him in the air!
Freddy Whoa: Knowing Stephen Singh, he'll be coming for that belt to get it back. And Teo didn't get pinned.
Good ole Fredward, doing the thankless work of putting over a fucking whelp like me. I barely squeaked past Teo the month prior. I had to have him arrested via false accusations to retain the World Title one time.
One fucking time.
And then I dropped it to John Rabid. The on-again, off-again uber-schemer who was finally getting his moment in the sun. It was his time to shine. He’d finally etched his name into the record books where it belonged.
Except it didn’t belong.
His won’t ring in this place’s empty halls after it’s been long-closed, the same fate that will be suffered by each of us King. The difference between Rabid and myself is that deep down, I always knew. I knew I’d lied, cheated, and stolen my way to the top. I knew that I was only successful by playing the angles and taking every shortcut I could find. Him? He thought it was his birthright, he thought it was owed to him. He actually thought he was good enough.
How about you, Ethan? Are you good enough? Do you deserve to be in the top tier?
The answer, of course, is a deafeningly loud no. But I was at least interested to hear what you THOUGHT the answer was. If you truly believe that your name belongs in the same sentence as Balfore and Dune then I’d be shocked.
Because for all the swagger, all the arrogance you so consciously put forth into the world, it always seemed obvious to me that you never believed it. That’s why you couldn’t get there. You knew you didn’t belong there. You chose to stand alongside Sanchez and I--superior talents, without a doubt--because it would provide you with an excuse to remain in the shadows. It allowed you a reasonable explanation for your own failure, for now living up to what others saw as your “potential.”
What I saw wasn’t potential. I saw a boy whose shoulders were perfect for standing on. A competent competitor who was filled with enough self-awareness of his own limitations that I could convince him to get down on all fours while I used him as a step-stool to grab that brass ring for myself.
That’s what I realized in this loss, King. I watched Rabid BELIEVE he’d ascended. I realized that you didn’t have the same convictions he did. You didn’t believe yourself entitled to greatness the way he did. You knew you were just outside that level, you were good but not that good. That’s when I knew your impressive showing at WAR wouldn’t mean anything to you. That’s when I knew no matter what I did for you, no matter what we did for each other in the death throes of Everest, you couldn’t be built up. You couldn’t be used as a true weapon alongside me nor as a proper rival across from me, instead you just had to be a stepping stone for me. You were twice the fighter was with half the faith. It was after this loss I knew that in a few short months, I’d need to rid the WCF of Ethan King’s cloying, perpetual mediocrity.
February 25, 2018
Til Death Do Us Part
Stephen Singh vs Odin Balfore
World Title Match
Odin kicks Singh in the gut…
WHAM!
Zach Davis: Mark of Odin!
Freddy Whoa: And Odin stays with him.. He lifts him back up..
Ragnarok!
Zach Davis: BAD MOTHER FUCKER!
The pin..
1..
2..
3…
DING DING!
Stanley Moses calls for the bell!
Zach Davis: HE DID IT! THE ALL FATHER HAS DONE IT. IT’S BEEN SEVEN LONG YEARS BUT ODIN BALFORE IS ONCE AGAIN WORLD CHAMPION!
That was it then. My last great failure. My first--of many--losses to Odin Balfore in what everyone considered the best feud of 2018.
What an honor. The best feud of the WCF’s year on life support. And a feud in which I lost...over and over again.
This was the last twilight of the Golden God. This was the one that proved to me and everyone else--beyond a shadow of a doubt--my place on the all-time WCF food chain. My place? Barely existent.
My place was proven then to be where it is now. Our match on the final night of the final card of the WCF is opening for the legends. We did just enough in this place to convince the powers that be that we belong on night two but they rightfully keep us in the undercard.
That’s who we are, Ethan: curtain-jerkers to the greats. Everest spent a year as the most dominant stable in the WCF and will be quickly forgotten. The Church of Singh kept my coffers full and kept my name atop the federation for another year but it was forgotten before it was even gone. And they both died not with a bang but with a whimper.
So here we are, Ethan. How do we end? With a bang or a whimper? How about three bangs? Three bangs of a hand on the mat next to your head as you stare up at the Bright Lights one last time, a smile on your face knowing you can finally accept your role as here as a jobber to a jobber to the legends.
I’ll admit to my disappointment that the name across from mine for this Endgame was yours. I didn’t deserve to be in the ring with the true legends but what about those just outside of that upper echelon, those just outside the inner sanctum of superiority? Those men that I saw myself standing shoulder to shoulder with: Jared Holmes, ZMAC, Wade Moor?
No, it turns out the WCF doesn’t see me that way. Instead, the Golden God is condemned to stomping in the brains of a frat boy whose most impressive skill was internet bullying. Instead of fighting the apprentice Jared Holmes to a great like Joey Flash, I’m fighting the apprentice TO the apprentice. I’m snapping the neck of Dwight fuckin’ Schrute. I’m bound to bludgeon the right hand man’s right hand man. I’m booked against a flailing fuckchop whose biggest claim to fame before standing next to me was a feud with a starfish.
This is not facetiousness or metaphor. His biggest feud before I put him on on top of a mountain was with a starfish. That’s real. I think.
So that’s what’s left for me. One last time in the ring. One last time to put to use those failures I’ve walked us through, to remember them, to learn from them, and to avoid that feeling one last time.
Neither of us have ever been happy, Ethan. That might’ve been Everest’s great bond: three chronically joyless shitheads trying to properly time a mutual backstabbing for our own individual success. But I’ve known joy. I’ve known joy and it comes between those ropes, Ethan. It’s fleeting and it’s fickle and it evaporates mere minutes after you exit that ring but in there are moments...with the crowd booing...and your hand raised...and your opponent felled by hook or by crook...where there is joy.
So that’s what I’m looking for one more time. The ring is the only place I’ve ever felt that joy, the only place I’ve ever felt I belong, the only place I’ve ever felt at home. So I’m going home one last time, Ethan. And I’m going to feel that fleeting joy one more time. And as the boos rain down on me one last time, the crowd deeply unhappy with what they’ve seen, maybe you can feel it too.
Then you can know, as I have, what comes after that feeling. I’ll tell you now so you can start to prepare. What will come next for us after that joy, is the same thing that will come next for the WCF: absolutely nothing. So we all chase fleeting moments of joy until that sweet release of the great nothing. In life for most, in wrestling for us. And now the WCF can be empty just like us. Obituaries run on Tuesday.
No.
None of that.
Just my voice. Afterall, that’s what made me different, right? That’s why I’m a triple crown champion, an ultimate showdown winner, a two-time world champion: my words. That’s what brought me everything I got in this place, right? My words. My verbal violence. My devious dialogue. My vitriolic verbosity. My malignant monologuing. The shakespeare of shoot leaving them
That’s what I’m supposed to be doing here, right? Talking legacy? Falsely fellating the memory of my “career” here? Talking about what a lasting and significant imprint I’ve left on this place? Talking about how the WCF will never forget the name Steven Singh?
Heh.
The WCF is dead. Make no mistakes about it, it is past the point of no return. The talent pool today has demands that everyone who has been a part of this front office is unable to meet. So listen not to the hopeful words of veterans who’ve seen it rise from the ashes so many times one assumes it’s a mentally retarded phoenix.
The WCF is dead.
And the name Steven Singh...much like the name Ethan King...is already forgotten.
*******************************
Denver, CONovember 20, 2016
A random fuckin’ Slam
Lilith/Oblivision vs CAPTAIN PANTHEON/Steven Singh
Tag Team Title Match
Oblivion looks down at the downed Captain Pantheon before stepping over to Lilith to ask what she had done, but the brunette was having none of it as she throws a right hand right into Oblivions face, knocking the monster back. Lilith climbs back into the ring, the referee seemingly acknowledging the hit as a tag and Lilith BOOTS Oblivion right in between his legs, causing the monster to collapse onto the canvas in agony. Lilith grins down at the two men by her feet as she reaches down and grabs Captain Pantheon around his neck, picking him up off the canvas.
Freddy Whoa: Lilith looks like she's wondering what to do here…
Zach Davis: Lilith looks like she's going to go in for The Kiss of Death but does not plant her lips onto the Captains…
Freddy Whoa: KISS-LESS OF DEATH!!!
Zach Davis: What?
Freddy Whoa: I don't know. Lilith is going for the cover!!!
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
Zach Davis: NO! Steven Singh is in the ring and attacks Lilith!
The bell sounds.
Freddy Whoa: Lilith and Oblivion win... but by DQ?! No new Tag Team Champions?!
Zach Davis: Lilith's plan worked to a point - but she didn't count on Singh coming back!
Singh lifts Lilith up but Lilith shoves him away and out of the ring.
Freddy Whoa: What a coward.
Zach Davis: Not sure what we expected from this match, but... Not this.
The fans boo!
Zach Davis: What did we just witness!?
Freddy Whoa: I have no idea. Clearly, Lilith believes herself to be the new Tag Team Champions - which given the last few Title changes, anything can happen - but really, the ref called for a DQ there. Singh and Captain hung onto the belts.
****************
Back to just me. A disembodied voice in a pitch black room. Speaking of “bodied,” what you just bore re-witness to was my first loss. See, Ethan, I’m giving everyone the walk down memory lane they think they want but I’m giving us the send off we need.
We’re not going to revisit my highlights, my best moments. Instead, we’re going to be dancing in the darkness of my failures. Because if we’re being frank here, that’s what this is. The WCF closing is a failure. You and I not getting this match, not closing our little saga when it still had the juice, is a failure. And our careers? They’ve been fucking failures.
I’d been in the most important wrestling federation in the world for less than three months and had finessed my way into a Tag Title reign with a sweet mentally disabled make-a-wish boy while absolutely pissing in Teo’s eye. Everything was on the upswing. I’d already made it clear how destined for greatness I was. And then I lose.
To fucking Lilith.
DQ or not, I could give two squirts. I lost to Lilith. It’s fitting though, Ethan. Because like it or not, her name is going to mean more to the history of the WCF than ours ever will. She can’t begin to compare to our win-loss records, our title history or our talent. But her name will be remembered. Loathed? Sure. But that’s what we’re supposed to be doing here isn’t it? Evoking some type of emotional reaction, right?
That’s one thing you could never muster you tween-faced-twink. No matter how good you were in the ring, no matter how much time and effort you put in and no matter how much everybody in the back said it was your time and you were truly deserving--you couldn’t make anyone FEEL anything. No one truly gave a shit about a single word you said or move you made. Yeah, we all acknowledged that it was skilled but no one cared. No one was moved by it. You didn’t even care, Ethan.
That was the problem. That was always the problem. No matter what, your apathy bled through and kept you from getting over that hump. From actually putting your fingers on that brass ring. What was it, Lionheart? Ironheart? I don’t remember and I don’t care. Whatever it was, it was a fucking misnomer. Because you had no golden goddamned heart. And we could all see it.
That’s what cost me my perfect record: apathy. I settled into complacency after steamrolling over and through every single mook and mulkie they’d put in my path. So I stopped that. I realized that anybody that’s signed a contact here is worth paying attention to. Even if, like you, they can barely pay attention to themselves.
*****************
Los Angeles, CA
February 26, 2017
Timebomb
Stephen Singh vs Joey Flash
World Title Match
Freddy Whoa: Sanchez is in the ring! David Sanchez has no business out here! He doesn’t even have the briefcase anymore!
Zach Davis: Captain is in his face trying to send him to the back but Sanchez doesn’t even look like he hears him.
Suddenly, Sanchez shoves Captain off of him and locks Joey Flash in his Single Wing Choke.
Freddy Whoa: M.99! M.99 on Flash! Sanchez is choking the life out of the World Champ!
Zach Davis: And that’s it! Captain Pantheon has to call for the bell! He’s….He’s DISQUALIFIED his tag team partner! Joey Flash retains the title!
Freddy Whoa: Holy shit, Steven Singh is barred from competing for the World Title...ever again!
Captain Pantheon is trying to pull Sanchez off the World Champ but the choke is cinched in tight. Meanwhile, Singh is back on his feet.
Freddy Whoa: Singh grabs Captain Pantheon from behind and…THIEF IN THE NIGHT!
Zach Davis: Singh is assaulting Captain Pantheon!
Singh picks his tag team partner back up and snaps him back down with another rolling cutter as Sanchez finally lets Flash’s body go limp to the mat. The two men look at each other and suddenly embrace.
Freddy Whoa: What is going on here?! The two men celebrate over carcasses of Joey Flash and Captain Pantheon as Singh demands his Tag Team title from the timekeeper.
Zach Davis: Wait a minute, who’s this?!
Freddy Whoa: #Beachkrew may be in shambles, but here comes Jared Holmes, and never one to do things alone, he’s brought other reinforcements!
******************
And again you’re back from those exciting in-ring visuals to a black screen with just the dulcet tones of the Superstar to guide you. Do you like where I ended that scene, Ethan? You remember what came next? You, of course. Little, insignificant you. The crippled third leg of Everest. The only one of us that failed to turn our utter dominance into a World Title reign.
What’s worse, Ethan? David cementing his reputation as the great choke artist. As the man who could get the girl home but STILL manage not to fuck her. Even if it looked like it was going to be as easy as undoing the belt from a Dion Necurat for christ’s sake. So is it worse to be that guy or the guy who never even gets the girl home? The guy who can’t even get the girl to respond to him in the bar? The guy who the whole damn world seems to look at and go “Hmph, he definitely has a shot.” But in reality, you never do. You can never quite muster the chutzpah to swing the bat. So no homeruns like your Golden God and no strikeouts like the Mayor. Instead, just a DNP-the universe’s decision.
Anyways, this loss isn’t relevant because it kicked off our time together. It’s relevant because it was my SECOND shot at the world title and more importantly, The World himself, Joey Flash. The first time I didn’t have a shot. I had no idea what I was in for and to be perfectly honest, after I watched his very first promo I was done. He’d convinced me I didn’t belong in the ring with him. But then the way that match went...the way he felt in the ring...Made me think I did have a chance. Made me think I could move some pieces around, I could train a little harder, get a little stronger and I could dethrone Joey fuckin’ Flash.
And then I lost.
And then I knew what I know now as I shovel dirt onto the grave of WCF: I don’t belong in that conversation. I’m not in that Flash-Fly tier. Few are but I truly thought I was. But when you fail to best a man in back to back matches that you truly threw your absolute all into...Well then you learn something. But I learned that and instead of practicing new fighting techniques, I practicedpatience. I waited for moment where there were no Fly’s nor Flashes to swat off of the World Title. Then I came for the gold like a Thief in the Night.
And where were you? While I realized my place in the all-time echelons and used that knowledge to put my name under the heading of “WORLD CHAMPION” while I could...what did you do? You stood in that ring with me on that night...and failed. Your killer instinct failed, your intelligence failed, your ruthlessness failed.
Or maybe you didn’t want it? Because you knew that there’s only one thing that comes after a World Title win…
***********************
Tokyo, JapanOctober 1, 2017
WAR XVI
John Rabid vs Teo del Sol vs Stephen Singh
World Title Match
Zach Davis: V-TRIGGER! HE HAS HIM BY THE ARM STILL! THE V-TRIGGER STOPPED THE BRASS KNUCKLES PUNCH AND RABID PULLS HIM AGAIN!
Freddy Whoa: V-TRIGGER! ANOTHER V-TRIGGER HOLDING HIM BY THE ARM! SINGH IS ON WOBBLY KNEES, HE CAN’T EVEN SEE RIGHT! RABID PULLS HIM AGAIN FOR THIRD TIME’S A CHARM!
Zach Davis: KINGDOM DESTROYER!!!!! KINGDOM DESTROYER!!!!! IT’S OVER! HE GOT THE KINGDOM DESTROYER!!! TEO DEL SOL IS FIGHTING TO GET IN THE RING, RABID HAS THE PIN ATTEMPT. IT’S A FIGHT BETWEEN TEO DEL SOL AND JOHN RABID. WHO WILL WIN FIRST?!
Freddy Whoa: ONE!
Zach Davis: TWO!
Freddy Whoa: THREE!
Zach Davis: THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! WE'VE GOT A NEW WORLD CHAMPION!
Freddy Whoa: John Rabid waited so long and went through so much to get to this point. He's given WCF everything he's got, but for one reason or another, he never got to the top of the mountain.
Zach Davis: ...Until now.
Freddy Whoa: Teo del Sol looks on from the outside, cursing to himself as Rabid is handed the World Title. What a moment for this man!
Zach Davis: Rabid climbs up one turnbuckle, holds the belt tight to his chest for one moment before raising it high above him in the air!
Freddy Whoa: Knowing Stephen Singh, he'll be coming for that belt to get it back. And Teo didn't get pinned.
***********************
Good ole Fredward, doing the thankless work of putting over a fucking whelp like me. I barely squeaked past Teo the month prior. I had to have him arrested via false accusations to retain the World Title one time.
One fucking time.
And then I dropped it to John Rabid. The on-again, off-again uber-schemer who was finally getting his moment in the sun. It was his time to shine. He’d finally etched his name into the record books where it belonged.
Except it didn’t belong.
His won’t ring in this place’s empty halls after it’s been long-closed, the same fate that will be suffered by each of us King. The difference between Rabid and myself is that deep down, I always knew. I knew I’d lied, cheated, and stolen my way to the top. I knew that I was only successful by playing the angles and taking every shortcut I could find. Him? He thought it was his birthright, he thought it was owed to him. He actually thought he was good enough.
How about you, Ethan? Are you good enough? Do you deserve to be in the top tier?
The answer, of course, is a deafeningly loud no. But I was at least interested to hear what you THOUGHT the answer was. If you truly believe that your name belongs in the same sentence as Balfore and Dune then I’d be shocked.
Because for all the swagger, all the arrogance you so consciously put forth into the world, it always seemed obvious to me that you never believed it. That’s why you couldn’t get there. You knew you didn’t belong there. You chose to stand alongside Sanchez and I--superior talents, without a doubt--because it would provide you with an excuse to remain in the shadows. It allowed you a reasonable explanation for your own failure, for now living up to what others saw as your “potential.”
What I saw wasn’t potential. I saw a boy whose shoulders were perfect for standing on. A competent competitor who was filled with enough self-awareness of his own limitations that I could convince him to get down on all fours while I used him as a step-stool to grab that brass ring for myself.
That’s what I realized in this loss, King. I watched Rabid BELIEVE he’d ascended. I realized that you didn’t have the same convictions he did. You didn’t believe yourself entitled to greatness the way he did. You knew you were just outside that level, you were good but not that good. That’s when I knew your impressive showing at WAR wouldn’t mean anything to you. That’s when I knew no matter what I did for you, no matter what we did for each other in the death throes of Everest, you couldn’t be built up. You couldn’t be used as a true weapon alongside me nor as a proper rival across from me, instead you just had to be a stepping stone for me. You were twice the fighter was with half the faith. It was after this loss I knew that in a few short months, I’d need to rid the WCF of Ethan King’s cloying, perpetual mediocrity.
***********************
Philadelphia, PAFebruary 25, 2018
Til Death Do Us Part
Stephen Singh vs Odin Balfore
World Title Match
Odin kicks Singh in the gut…
WHAM!
Zach Davis: Mark of Odin!
Freddy Whoa: And Odin stays with him.. He lifts him back up..
Ragnarok!
Zach Davis: BAD MOTHER FUCKER!
The pin..
1..
2..
3…
DING DING!
Stanley Moses calls for the bell!
Zach Davis: HE DID IT! THE ALL FATHER HAS DONE IT. IT’S BEEN SEVEN LONG YEARS BUT ODIN BALFORE IS ONCE AGAIN WORLD CHAMPION!
*************************
That was it then. My last great failure. My first--of many--losses to Odin Balfore in what everyone considered the best feud of 2018.
What an honor. The best feud of the WCF’s year on life support. And a feud in which I lost...over and over again.
This was the last twilight of the Golden God. This was the one that proved to me and everyone else--beyond a shadow of a doubt--my place on the all-time WCF food chain. My place? Barely existent.
My place was proven then to be where it is now. Our match on the final night of the final card of the WCF is opening for the legends. We did just enough in this place to convince the powers that be that we belong on night two but they rightfully keep us in the undercard.
That’s who we are, Ethan: curtain-jerkers to the greats. Everest spent a year as the most dominant stable in the WCF and will be quickly forgotten. The Church of Singh kept my coffers full and kept my name atop the federation for another year but it was forgotten before it was even gone. And they both died not with a bang but with a whimper.
So here we are, Ethan. How do we end? With a bang or a whimper? How about three bangs? Three bangs of a hand on the mat next to your head as you stare up at the Bright Lights one last time, a smile on your face knowing you can finally accept your role as here as a jobber to a jobber to the legends.
I’ll admit to my disappointment that the name across from mine for this Endgame was yours. I didn’t deserve to be in the ring with the true legends but what about those just outside of that upper echelon, those just outside the inner sanctum of superiority? Those men that I saw myself standing shoulder to shoulder with: Jared Holmes, ZMAC, Wade Moor?
No, it turns out the WCF doesn’t see me that way. Instead, the Golden God is condemned to stomping in the brains of a frat boy whose most impressive skill was internet bullying. Instead of fighting the apprentice Jared Holmes to a great like Joey Flash, I’m fighting the apprentice TO the apprentice. I’m snapping the neck of Dwight fuckin’ Schrute. I’m bound to bludgeon the right hand man’s right hand man. I’m booked against a flailing fuckchop whose biggest claim to fame before standing next to me was a feud with a starfish.
This is not facetiousness or metaphor. His biggest feud before I put him on on top of a mountain was with a starfish. That’s real. I think.
So that’s what’s left for me. One last time in the ring. One last time to put to use those failures I’ve walked us through, to remember them, to learn from them, and to avoid that feeling one last time.
Neither of us have ever been happy, Ethan. That might’ve been Everest’s great bond: three chronically joyless shitheads trying to properly time a mutual backstabbing for our own individual success. But I’ve known joy. I’ve known joy and it comes between those ropes, Ethan. It’s fleeting and it’s fickle and it evaporates mere minutes after you exit that ring but in there are moments...with the crowd booing...and your hand raised...and your opponent felled by hook or by crook...where there is joy.
So that’s what I’m looking for one more time. The ring is the only place I’ve ever felt that joy, the only place I’ve ever felt I belong, the only place I’ve ever felt at home. So I’m going home one last time, Ethan. And I’m going to feel that fleeting joy one more time. And as the boos rain down on me one last time, the crowd deeply unhappy with what they’ve seen, maybe you can feel it too.
Then you can know, as I have, what comes after that feeling. I’ll tell you now so you can start to prepare. What will come next for us after that joy, is the same thing that will come next for the WCF: absolutely nothing. So we all chase fleeting moments of joy until that sweet release of the great nothing. In life for most, in wrestling for us. And now the WCF can be empty just like us. Obituaries run on Tuesday.
