Post by Corey Black on Nov 27, 2011 14:25:34 GMT -5
Our scene opens in the WCF Arena. Inside a locker room with the name "Corey Black" on the door. It is swung wide open, allowing easy access by the WCF cameraman. Corey is sitting in the room, alone, wearing his casual clothes. Baggy ripped jeans, Amon Amarth t-shirt, black Chucks.. nothing out of the norm. No sign of Creeping Death, no sign of craziness, just Corey sitting there, slumped in a rather nice plush chair.
Corey Black
Things are different here in WCF than it is over in IWF. I don't get my own changing room over there. I'm not 'main event,' I'm one of the low guys on the totem pole because I haven't quite earned my spot there. Here, in WCF, that isn't the case. I'm the fucking top of the totem, and I haven't had a match here in months. I guess name value does carry some merit, it just doesn't transfer when you take another job. That's alright, because I thought my value would go up even more on Thanksgiving, getting the big win for Team WCF in the main event. Oh... no no no...
I ... was pinned by Ryan Blake. Take that in. At the UWA Supershow, in the main event, Ryan Blake pinned my shoulders to the mat.
Granted, it was a show he put together.
Granted, it was a main event he put himself in.
Granted, it was a powerbomb by Odin Balfore that put me down.
... but that doesn't take away from the fact that Ryan Blake pinned me.
What better way to get people into your failing federation by cheating to win in your very own main event?
How would we right a wrong like this? I think I have the perfect plan. Next week, Ryan Blake, you step into a WCF ring with me. No UWA refs that overlook a sure disqualification, no Odin Balfore, no nothing. Just you and me, in the ring, to see how "back to your old epic self" you really are. And why don't we up the ante? Let's throw a cage around the ring to keep Odin out. Oh, he can climb, you say? Fuck it, put barbed wire at the top. No bullshit, Blake. Man up.
Speaking of manning up, tonight, it's myself and Odin as a team, just a few days after pinning the big man. I know the story 'wah wah wah feet on the ropes.' Yeah, well, your stupid UWA ref didn't see it. Fair is fair. He DID see you drop me with the bomb, and didn't do diddly shit about it, so I'd wager to guess he wouldn't have minded my feet on the ropes. I digress, though, it's you and I tonight big man. I know I can't trust you as far as I can throw you, and let's face it, I cannot throw you very far. I'll work the match as long as you stay out of my way. Let a real wrestler get in there and win, you keep your lumbering, bumbling ass on the apron and take notes. We will go one on one sometime soon, Odin, World Title or not, and I will drop you on your fucking skull.
Moving right along to my ... and I mean MY opponents, Johnny Reb and Doc Henry. Everyone can see where this is leading. As much as I think Odin and I won't function as a team, you have Reb and Henry over here, pissing in each other's malt liquor. They're way too focused on each other to even worry about the technical masterpiece I'm about to throw down on them. Typical WCF wrestlers. Overlooking the biggest piece of the puzzle. Johnny's only inkling in this match is Odin finally whipping his ass and taking the World Title back where it rightfully belongs. Yeah, I went there. So Johnny Reb wins War and the vacated World Title... Odin never lost the belt. He proved that. Reb has not only Doc and Odin on the mind, but Seth too. Seth somehow got out of this match, surely because he knew I'd fucking murder him. That's neither here nor there. Reb said one entire sentence to me, and that was asking if I can trust Odin. Well, to answer, in a word, no. I know I can't, he proved that to me when we demolished Seth's car and I ate a fist. I pose the same question to you, Mister Reb... can you trust Doc? Your answer should be the same as mine, and if it's not, you are drunk. Why else would he agree to this? He wants in the same ring as you, so he can kick you in your ovaries. I mean testicles. Whatever.
Congrats on your Supershow win, fellas, it was a doozy. I mean, shit, it's obvious you guys put forth the most effort. Your match was the best, and it was the only WCF win. Congrats. A thousand cheers for the New Confederacy. It's funny, when you think about it, because when people talk about the best tag teams in WCF history, two names seem to come up. New Confederacy and the Man Made Gods. But then when you talk about the best singles, you get names like Torture and Creeping Death, yet Johnny Reb and Doc Henry are mid-list at best. You guys are one trick ponies, and I'm better than you at your own trick. I may have the World Champion on my side, but it could be any jobber WCF has to offer, I'd still get the job done. That is where I am in my career. When WCF last saw me, I was broken and beaten down in the middle of the ring with the greatest of ease. Now? After my stint in IWF, you're looking at a new man. I've never been more on top of my game. Just watch, I'll make you two look like children later tonight, then travel North to New York City and make everyone over in IWF look like babies.
It's funny, when you think about it. After my entire career here, as soon as I leave and go somewhere else, I get ten times better. That tells you the level of competition. That shows you that men like Johnny Reb, Doc Henry, Ryan Blake, and even Odin Balfore are below me. I might be supressing a demon within, but it's making me better, and that doesn't bode well for most everyone I come in contact with.
Shit is about to hit the fan as we head toward One, WCF. Buckle your safety belts, there's no telling where this train is headed. All I know is, for sure, the New Confederacy is heading back to the mid-card after Aftermath. The bells, you Southern motherfuckers, will be tolling for you.
Corey finishes talking and looks to the doorway. Standing there is Nikki Venus, his former girlfriend. Things have changed between them, ever since the whole Kaylyn situation. Their eyes meet, and Corey looks away. She's only there for moral support, but there is resentment coming from Corey. He hasn't gone on records to say why, but it's painfully obvious. He stands up out of the chair and walks to her, pushing her out of the way as he walks through the doorway, into the halls of the WCF Arena. The camera turns to Nikki, who looks heartbroken, but she enters the locker room and waits regardless. This is where the scene fades.
Corey Black
Things are different here in WCF than it is over in IWF. I don't get my own changing room over there. I'm not 'main event,' I'm one of the low guys on the totem pole because I haven't quite earned my spot there. Here, in WCF, that isn't the case. I'm the fucking top of the totem, and I haven't had a match here in months. I guess name value does carry some merit, it just doesn't transfer when you take another job. That's alright, because I thought my value would go up even more on Thanksgiving, getting the big win for Team WCF in the main event. Oh... no no no...
I ... was pinned by Ryan Blake. Take that in. At the UWA Supershow, in the main event, Ryan Blake pinned my shoulders to the mat.
Granted, it was a show he put together.
Granted, it was a main event he put himself in.
Granted, it was a powerbomb by Odin Balfore that put me down.
... but that doesn't take away from the fact that Ryan Blake pinned me.
What better way to get people into your failing federation by cheating to win in your very own main event?
How would we right a wrong like this? I think I have the perfect plan. Next week, Ryan Blake, you step into a WCF ring with me. No UWA refs that overlook a sure disqualification, no Odin Balfore, no nothing. Just you and me, in the ring, to see how "back to your old epic self" you really are. And why don't we up the ante? Let's throw a cage around the ring to keep Odin out. Oh, he can climb, you say? Fuck it, put barbed wire at the top. No bullshit, Blake. Man up.
Speaking of manning up, tonight, it's myself and Odin as a team, just a few days after pinning the big man. I know the story 'wah wah wah feet on the ropes.' Yeah, well, your stupid UWA ref didn't see it. Fair is fair. He DID see you drop me with the bomb, and didn't do diddly shit about it, so I'd wager to guess he wouldn't have minded my feet on the ropes. I digress, though, it's you and I tonight big man. I know I can't trust you as far as I can throw you, and let's face it, I cannot throw you very far. I'll work the match as long as you stay out of my way. Let a real wrestler get in there and win, you keep your lumbering, bumbling ass on the apron and take notes. We will go one on one sometime soon, Odin, World Title or not, and I will drop you on your fucking skull.
Moving right along to my ... and I mean MY opponents, Johnny Reb and Doc Henry. Everyone can see where this is leading. As much as I think Odin and I won't function as a team, you have Reb and Henry over here, pissing in each other's malt liquor. They're way too focused on each other to even worry about the technical masterpiece I'm about to throw down on them. Typical WCF wrestlers. Overlooking the biggest piece of the puzzle. Johnny's only inkling in this match is Odin finally whipping his ass and taking the World Title back where it rightfully belongs. Yeah, I went there. So Johnny Reb wins War and the vacated World Title... Odin never lost the belt. He proved that. Reb has not only Doc and Odin on the mind, but Seth too. Seth somehow got out of this match, surely because he knew I'd fucking murder him. That's neither here nor there. Reb said one entire sentence to me, and that was asking if I can trust Odin. Well, to answer, in a word, no. I know I can't, he proved that to me when we demolished Seth's car and I ate a fist. I pose the same question to you, Mister Reb... can you trust Doc? Your answer should be the same as mine, and if it's not, you are drunk. Why else would he agree to this? He wants in the same ring as you, so he can kick you in your ovaries. I mean testicles. Whatever.
Congrats on your Supershow win, fellas, it was a doozy. I mean, shit, it's obvious you guys put forth the most effort. Your match was the best, and it was the only WCF win. Congrats. A thousand cheers for the New Confederacy. It's funny, when you think about it, because when people talk about the best tag teams in WCF history, two names seem to come up. New Confederacy and the Man Made Gods. But then when you talk about the best singles, you get names like Torture and Creeping Death, yet Johnny Reb and Doc Henry are mid-list at best. You guys are one trick ponies, and I'm better than you at your own trick. I may have the World Champion on my side, but it could be any jobber WCF has to offer, I'd still get the job done. That is where I am in my career. When WCF last saw me, I was broken and beaten down in the middle of the ring with the greatest of ease. Now? After my stint in IWF, you're looking at a new man. I've never been more on top of my game. Just watch, I'll make you two look like children later tonight, then travel North to New York City and make everyone over in IWF look like babies.
It's funny, when you think about it. After my entire career here, as soon as I leave and go somewhere else, I get ten times better. That tells you the level of competition. That shows you that men like Johnny Reb, Doc Henry, Ryan Blake, and even Odin Balfore are below me. I might be supressing a demon within, but it's making me better, and that doesn't bode well for most everyone I come in contact with.
Shit is about to hit the fan as we head toward One, WCF. Buckle your safety belts, there's no telling where this train is headed. All I know is, for sure, the New Confederacy is heading back to the mid-card after Aftermath. The bells, you Southern motherfuckers, will be tolling for you.
Corey finishes talking and looks to the doorway. Standing there is Nikki Venus, his former girlfriend. Things have changed between them, ever since the whole Kaylyn situation. Their eyes meet, and Corey looks away. She's only there for moral support, but there is resentment coming from Corey. He hasn't gone on records to say why, but it's painfully obvious. He stands up out of the chair and walks to her, pushing her out of the way as he walks through the doorway, into the halls of the WCF Arena. The camera turns to Nikki, who looks heartbroken, but she enters the locker room and waits regardless. This is where the scene fades.
