Post by Deleted on Sept 21, 2009 16:52:09 GMT -5
Slam ended over an hour ago and there is barely a soul left in the arena except for a few people breaking down the ring. Throughout the rest of the arena there is nothing found but silence and darkness and the occasional janitor sweeping the floors. It is here, in this empty arena, that the future of professional wrestling sits admiring how quickly he has gained attention for himself. Merely an hour ago Jay Price was in the biggest match of his young career, facing off against his 2nd and so far tougest opponent, Anastasia Petrova, for the WCF Television title. It was a grueling contest that saw both competitors throw everything they had at each other but in the end the best in the business overcame the fan favorite.
As Price sits in the dimly lit locker room on a metal folding chair, his title belt resting on the folding table in front of him, he cannot help think of where he was just a short time ago. Just a month before his debut he was just another young wrestler trying to impress the scouts that were always stopping by to see the talent. And impress he did. For weeks Price showed off every bit of talent he had, from his vast knowledge of submission skills to his hard hitting punches and kicks, to his mobilitity off the top rope. For weeks the scouts were able to see the biggest unsigned talent in history and all of them failed to consider this "young street punk from Philly", as they called him, a true wrestler of the future. And then just three weeks later there came a visit from someone new, someone that no one in Philly had heard of before. The man was from a place called WCF and he was looking to bring in new, fresh talent to an organization in need of someone to run the show, to turn it into a major success, and that was the day that Price was discovered. And the rest is simply history. One week ago the biggest debut in history happened and it happened in the way that everyone knew it would. Price had his hand raised high by the referee following the three count and the beginning of the end for everyone elses hopes and dreams came to an end. Then tonight Price used his opportunity to become a household name by winning a highly anticipated match against Anastasia Petrova and winning the TV Title from her.
As Price sits, still thinking about how far he has come and how far he will eventually go, a janitor sweeping the floors happens to walk by the slightly ajar door and noticing the light on pokes his head in.
Janitor: "Oh i'm sorry Mr. Price, I thought someone accidently left the light on in here. I didn't even realize that anyone was still in the building after the show."
The Janitor notices the belt on the table.
Janitor: "Oh wow I see you're a champion! Did you just win that belt or have you had it for long?"
Price: "You have to be joking right? You seriously have no idea what went on tonight?
Janitor: "Well to be honest I didn't really watch most of the matches tonight, I was kind of busy cleaning. But I did happen to catch the big main event. A hell of a match I must say."
Price: "You call that garbage of a match a "main event"? A three team tag match with no obvious implications for the WAR PPV, no gold on the line, just six wrestlers that no one hardly cares about, was supposed to be the big match that the rest of the night built up to. I on the other hand was forced to be a mid-card wrestler once again, even though I was in what could be called the match of the century for the TV Title."
Janitor: "Oh really I didn't even know you had a match scheduled for tonight. Well congratulations on your win and your shiny title belt, and good luck at WAR, hopefully you make it past a few of those veterans. I really should get back to sweeping these hallways so have a nice night."
As the janitor turns to leave the room, Price's face fills with anger at the lack of respect he was just given. He stands up and charges at the janitor, leveling him with a vicious clothesline from behind.
Price: "You ignorant piece of trash, you're no better than the waste of human life that surrounds the ring each night. Those people that call themselves fans of wrestling choose to cheer those that pander to them and yet boo the person that is the future of wrestling."
The janitor is on the ground, writhing in pain, trying to crawl away from Price, but his leg is quickly grabbed and he is pulled back into the locker room. Price slams the door shut and begins stomping on the back of the poor person lying on the ground, screaming in pain.
Price: "You will know my name after tonight you ignorant piece of shit. You and everyone else will come to learn that not showing respect for me is an offense that will not be taken lightly, and you will pay for it dearly."
Price walks over to his bag and produces his trustworthy Louisville Slugger. With a look of anger mixed with that cocky smile so many have come to know, he places the barrel of the bat against the back of the janitors head and pushes his face into the floor.
Price: "When this all over you will remember the name of Jay Price and what he is capable of. The so called veterans of WCF have never seen a force so unstoppable before and it's only a matter of time before my full potential will be shown."
Price then steps back and swings the bat full force into the janitors right knee. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!Three shots to the knee and one to the head later Price walks back over to his bags, grabs them and steps over the now motionless body of the poor individual. He walks out the door and down the hallway to the parking lot, a sadistic grin on his face as he takes pleasure in dealing out so much pain to those that deserve it.
As Price sits in the dimly lit locker room on a metal folding chair, his title belt resting on the folding table in front of him, he cannot help think of where he was just a short time ago. Just a month before his debut he was just another young wrestler trying to impress the scouts that were always stopping by to see the talent. And impress he did. For weeks Price showed off every bit of talent he had, from his vast knowledge of submission skills to his hard hitting punches and kicks, to his mobilitity off the top rope. For weeks the scouts were able to see the biggest unsigned talent in history and all of them failed to consider this "young street punk from Philly", as they called him, a true wrestler of the future. And then just three weeks later there came a visit from someone new, someone that no one in Philly had heard of before. The man was from a place called WCF and he was looking to bring in new, fresh talent to an organization in need of someone to run the show, to turn it into a major success, and that was the day that Price was discovered. And the rest is simply history. One week ago the biggest debut in history happened and it happened in the way that everyone knew it would. Price had his hand raised high by the referee following the three count and the beginning of the end for everyone elses hopes and dreams came to an end. Then tonight Price used his opportunity to become a household name by winning a highly anticipated match against Anastasia Petrova and winning the TV Title from her.
As Price sits, still thinking about how far he has come and how far he will eventually go, a janitor sweeping the floors happens to walk by the slightly ajar door and noticing the light on pokes his head in.
Janitor: "Oh i'm sorry Mr. Price, I thought someone accidently left the light on in here. I didn't even realize that anyone was still in the building after the show."
The Janitor notices the belt on the table.
Janitor: "Oh wow I see you're a champion! Did you just win that belt or have you had it for long?"
Price: "You have to be joking right? You seriously have no idea what went on tonight?
Janitor: "Well to be honest I didn't really watch most of the matches tonight, I was kind of busy cleaning. But I did happen to catch the big main event. A hell of a match I must say."
Price: "You call that garbage of a match a "main event"? A three team tag match with no obvious implications for the WAR PPV, no gold on the line, just six wrestlers that no one hardly cares about, was supposed to be the big match that the rest of the night built up to. I on the other hand was forced to be a mid-card wrestler once again, even though I was in what could be called the match of the century for the TV Title."
Janitor: "Oh really I didn't even know you had a match scheduled for tonight. Well congratulations on your win and your shiny title belt, and good luck at WAR, hopefully you make it past a few of those veterans. I really should get back to sweeping these hallways so have a nice night."
As the janitor turns to leave the room, Price's face fills with anger at the lack of respect he was just given. He stands up and charges at the janitor, leveling him with a vicious clothesline from behind.
Price: "You ignorant piece of trash, you're no better than the waste of human life that surrounds the ring each night. Those people that call themselves fans of wrestling choose to cheer those that pander to them and yet boo the person that is the future of wrestling."
The janitor is on the ground, writhing in pain, trying to crawl away from Price, but his leg is quickly grabbed and he is pulled back into the locker room. Price slams the door shut and begins stomping on the back of the poor person lying on the ground, screaming in pain.
Price: "You will know my name after tonight you ignorant piece of shit. You and everyone else will come to learn that not showing respect for me is an offense that will not be taken lightly, and you will pay for it dearly."
Price walks over to his bag and produces his trustworthy Louisville Slugger. With a look of anger mixed with that cocky smile so many have come to know, he places the barrel of the bat against the back of the janitors head and pushes his face into the floor.
Price: "When this all over you will remember the name of Jay Price and what he is capable of. The so called veterans of WCF have never seen a force so unstoppable before and it's only a matter of time before my full potential will be shown."
Price then steps back and swings the bat full force into the janitors right knee. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!Three shots to the knee and one to the head later Price walks back over to his bags, grabs them and steps over the now motionless body of the poor individual. He walks out the door and down the hallway to the parking lot, a sadistic grin on his face as he takes pleasure in dealing out so much pain to those that deserve it.
