Post by #HEEL Dark Lord on Feb 27, 2012 22:29:50 GMT -5
The most important flight of my career. One airplane flight could determine my career in XWA. When I arrive, I am mere days away from the biggest match of my life. Sure, I have fought the Boss before. But, this time, it's in his own backyard.... West Virginia. It will be me vs Him, and all of those lowly, pathetic, vile insects. As far into my career as I am, I was still being disrespected and frowned upon; not only by some of my peers and Legends in the industry but, all of those miserable lowlifes, who call themselves "wrestling fans" who piled into every arena around the World, always reminding me of why immensly disliked their miserable lives, and wished they would just fall off the face of the Universe.
And if things couldn’t get any worse, I had to prove them all wrong, in this horrible excuse for a State. I am pretty sure Iser picked his hometown, because, he knows how much I despise it here. Trying to take me out of the fight, by, making me fight this very place. But, what he doesn't know, is my hatred for this place, is what is going to propel me into defeating him, and making all of these rednecks cry in vain, as I vanquish their hero, in front of their eyes.
There I was, studying the scenery of the land below, the plane slowly, and painstakingly making it's way towards that dreaded destination. No doubt, I will be staying in some bumpkin hotel, when, a star of my stature, deserves first class accomdations. Lost in my thoughts, I hear the vauge, and mind-numbing conversations the other passengers are having. Such trivial people. None of their problems, could compare to mine. After all, I was the one going to West Virginia, to fight for my life. These people, are probably just tourists, who will buy every single souvenir they could get their grubby little hands on. Shaking my head solemnly, I can only hope this flight ends rather soon. I cannot take being this high up in the air, with such common people. Averting my gaze outside once again, my mind drifts to Daffney. We could have been on the same flight, but, some Old Man cried and moaned about not making it to his Grandson's Birth. Clearly, me being on a plane with people I know, is way more important than some kid being born.
Feeling disgusted, I put on some headphones, and drown out the constant bickering. Getting lost in the sonic noise, of the music I am listening to, I begin to feel my body shut down. In a few hours, West Virginia won't know what hit it. The Dark Lord is coming.
Saturday, February 25th
Morgantown, West Virginia
"So, ya just want the coffee?"
I didn’t respond to the rather large waitress who stood next to my rundown table. Scanning the menu, I felt my stomach churn, reading the assortment of meals. "Biscuits and Gravy" "Chicken in Gravy" "Mashed Potatos and Gravy" Everything with gravy, so, the coffee seemed like the ideal choice. I silently nodded, not wanting to give her the pleasure of hearing my dashingly awesome voice. The lady proceeded to mutter something under her breath, probably thinking I am too good to talk, which, I am, as she placed the steaming mug down clumsily, the liquid spilling onto the surface of my table. Typical West Virginia service. The lady shook her head then sighed loudly and left a receipt before awkwardly strolling off in search of another customer. Good riddance, the less I have to deal with these people, the better.
This was typical West Virginia behavior. When these people aren't fixing their tractors, or, making homemade moonshine, they lazily complete tasks with little competence or effort. It maks me ashamed to be a human being, and, having to be associated with such people. Shaking my head vehemently, I picked up the hot mug, and take a sip of the hot drink. The dull sense hit my taste buds. Fitting, their coffee tastes just as bland as this entire city. Setting the mug back down, I survey the other patrons in this small cafe. The typical country folk, I remark silently in my head. Every stereotype you could possibly imagine was here. Your usual hicks, the people who are trailer park rednecks. The people who act too black, or, in this instance, act way too trashy. Rolling my eyes, I looked down at the mug of coffee, the dull, completly bland black liquid, that was slowly decaying my body. Fumbling with my wallet, I placed a couple of my hard earned dollars on the table. God forbid, these people get a real job, and earn their money. Getting up from my seat rather quickly, I push open the door, and meet the cold, unforgiving, West Virginia weather.
Watching as several poor fools attempt to window shop, I head down the neighboring street, as I see some people fighting over tractor parts at a local swap meat. This is what My life has come to? Having to kill time, by watching people argue over tractor parts. Sighing in defeat, I walk down a sullen looking path, where my eyes land on a few kids, who seem to be wrestling. It seems like Iser has a big impact on these kids. Now, all of these ingrates think they have what it takes to be a wrestler. Walking over to the kids, they stop their embarassing attempts at holds, as they look up at me with wide gazes.
"You're Raven!"
"He's the XWA Champion!"
"Way Cool"
Smirking at the little children, I bend down on my knee so I am at their level.
"So, you want to be wrestlers when you grow up?" I ask, in a rather light tone.
"You Bet!"
"I want to be like Seth Iser!"
Shaking my head, at their vague, and idiotic responses, I avert my gaze to their faces.
"Well, let me tell you, I hope all of your food stamp parents buy you kids WrestleMania, I am going to destroy your so-called "hero" and, in the process, make damn sure, none of you ever want to become real wrestlers!"
"You're Mean!"
"You bully!"
"I like Tractors!"
Shaking my head at these low life kids, I get up, and continue walking. See what you have created Iser, see the little illusions you have given these kids. They should be worshiping me! I am the champion! Feeling rather bitter, I walk until I find an empty bench. Resting my aching muscles, I take a seat, and look at the mountain landscape. Mountains, and trees.... all that fill this dank abyss known as MorganTown. Adjusting the beanie, that covered my golden blonde locks, my mind wanders to last years Mania. I have regained what was rightfully mine, the XWA World Heavyweight Championship, in my own Hometown of Toronto, Canada. A city held in high regard, for it's rich wrestling history. This year, it's held in the exact opposite, the only events that should be held here, is a NASCAR event, or, who can assemble their tractor the fastest.
Laughing loudly at my own remarks, I am interrupted by the sound of my cellphone's ringtone.
"Raven, it's Daff" her soft, sweet voice enters my ears.
"Hello, Daffney" I say happily. "Where are you?"
"I am at the hotel, with all the other superstars" she said with a short laugh. "You better get your ass over here, they are scheduled to do the press conference with you and Iser pretty soon"
"Oh, how could I possibly miss this" I said with obvious sarcasm tracing my words. "I will be there as soon as I can"
"Alright, I'll see you when you get here"
"Bye"
Daffney, my sweet Daffney. Such a great ally, most of all such a great friend. Who knows, maybe one day, something more. Grinning to myself, I get up from my seated position in search of the nearest Taxi cab. Who am I kidding? I should be looking for someone driving a tractor on the side of the road! Scanning the rather empty roads, to my surprise, I find a taxi. I flag him down, and tell him where to take me. He looks back at me, through the mirror, and begins to drive. Great, here I am, stuck with yet another poor disgrace for a human being. The sooner Wrestlemania comes and goes, the sooner I can get out of this hell whole.
Waterfront Place Hotel
Surviving the hectic ride from hell, by Cousin Eddy himself, I find myself at our hotel. It looks pretty snazzy, compared to the other various buildings I have seen in this ransack city. Pushing open the large doors, I am greeted by the local bellhop. Glancing at him, and shrugging him off, I begin to wander the halls in search for my room. Now, where would the star player in the company be? Looking at the numbers on the doors, I am snapped out of my counting, as I feel someone from behind nudge my shoulder. Spinning around on my heels, I am greeted by the face of the one and only, Daffney. She reaches outwards and gives me a hug. Happily returning the hug, she looks into my eyes, and jerks her head to the left.
"This is where we are staying" She says with a sly grin, she points to the end of the hall. "Down there is where we need to go now, the press conference is about to begin"
Nodding my head, I begin to follow Daffney into the large room. Upon entering, I am greeted by a ton of local news representitives, and various camera people. Looking forward on the stage, I see the GM himself, seated in front of a desk, looking rather serious. The boss is always serious. In this case, all of this surrounds him. Afterall, this is his hometown. Casually walking up to the stage, I take my seat next to the GM, as some random guy, I do not know, takes the microphone.
" I would like to thank all of you for attending this years WrestleMania conference. Before you are the two men who will be in the biggest Main event in Wrestlemania history. We are honored, to have them here today. You may ask them any questions you seem fit, that has to do with the match, or the event itself. But, before that, I would like to introduce at this time, the man in charge, and the #1 contender to the XWA World Heavyweight Championship. The GM of XWA, Seth Iser!"
The local media baboons applaud, and cheer on the hometown boy, as I roll my eyes. Iser slowly stands up and approaches the microphone. The media eagerly awaiting what he has to say.
And if things couldn’t get any worse, I had to prove them all wrong, in this horrible excuse for a State. I am pretty sure Iser picked his hometown, because, he knows how much I despise it here. Trying to take me out of the fight, by, making me fight this very place. But, what he doesn't know, is my hatred for this place, is what is going to propel me into defeating him, and making all of these rednecks cry in vain, as I vanquish their hero, in front of their eyes.
There I was, studying the scenery of the land below, the plane slowly, and painstakingly making it's way towards that dreaded destination. No doubt, I will be staying in some bumpkin hotel, when, a star of my stature, deserves first class accomdations. Lost in my thoughts, I hear the vauge, and mind-numbing conversations the other passengers are having. Such trivial people. None of their problems, could compare to mine. After all, I was the one going to West Virginia, to fight for my life. These people, are probably just tourists, who will buy every single souvenir they could get their grubby little hands on. Shaking my head solemnly, I can only hope this flight ends rather soon. I cannot take being this high up in the air, with such common people. Averting my gaze outside once again, my mind drifts to Daffney. We could have been on the same flight, but, some Old Man cried and moaned about not making it to his Grandson's Birth. Clearly, me being on a plane with people I know, is way more important than some kid being born.
Feeling disgusted, I put on some headphones, and drown out the constant bickering. Getting lost in the sonic noise, of the music I am listening to, I begin to feel my body shut down. In a few hours, West Virginia won't know what hit it. The Dark Lord is coming.
Saturday, February 25th
Morgantown, West Virginia
"So, ya just want the coffee?"
I didn’t respond to the rather large waitress who stood next to my rundown table. Scanning the menu, I felt my stomach churn, reading the assortment of meals. "Biscuits and Gravy" "Chicken in Gravy" "Mashed Potatos and Gravy" Everything with gravy, so, the coffee seemed like the ideal choice. I silently nodded, not wanting to give her the pleasure of hearing my dashingly awesome voice. The lady proceeded to mutter something under her breath, probably thinking I am too good to talk, which, I am, as she placed the steaming mug down clumsily, the liquid spilling onto the surface of my table. Typical West Virginia service. The lady shook her head then sighed loudly and left a receipt before awkwardly strolling off in search of another customer. Good riddance, the less I have to deal with these people, the better.
This was typical West Virginia behavior. When these people aren't fixing their tractors, or, making homemade moonshine, they lazily complete tasks with little competence or effort. It maks me ashamed to be a human being, and, having to be associated with such people. Shaking my head vehemently, I picked up the hot mug, and take a sip of the hot drink. The dull sense hit my taste buds. Fitting, their coffee tastes just as bland as this entire city. Setting the mug back down, I survey the other patrons in this small cafe. The typical country folk, I remark silently in my head. Every stereotype you could possibly imagine was here. Your usual hicks, the people who are trailer park rednecks. The people who act too black, or, in this instance, act way too trashy. Rolling my eyes, I looked down at the mug of coffee, the dull, completly bland black liquid, that was slowly decaying my body. Fumbling with my wallet, I placed a couple of my hard earned dollars on the table. God forbid, these people get a real job, and earn their money. Getting up from my seat rather quickly, I push open the door, and meet the cold, unforgiving, West Virginia weather.
Watching as several poor fools attempt to window shop, I head down the neighboring street, as I see some people fighting over tractor parts at a local swap meat. This is what My life has come to? Having to kill time, by watching people argue over tractor parts. Sighing in defeat, I walk down a sullen looking path, where my eyes land on a few kids, who seem to be wrestling. It seems like Iser has a big impact on these kids. Now, all of these ingrates think they have what it takes to be a wrestler. Walking over to the kids, they stop their embarassing attempts at holds, as they look up at me with wide gazes.
"You're Raven!"
"He's the XWA Champion!"
"Way Cool"
Smirking at the little children, I bend down on my knee so I am at their level.
"So, you want to be wrestlers when you grow up?" I ask, in a rather light tone.
"You Bet!"
"I want to be like Seth Iser!"
Shaking my head, at their vague, and idiotic responses, I avert my gaze to their faces.
"Well, let me tell you, I hope all of your food stamp parents buy you kids WrestleMania, I am going to destroy your so-called "hero" and, in the process, make damn sure, none of you ever want to become real wrestlers!"
"You're Mean!"
"You bully!"
"I like Tractors!"
Shaking my head at these low life kids, I get up, and continue walking. See what you have created Iser, see the little illusions you have given these kids. They should be worshiping me! I am the champion! Feeling rather bitter, I walk until I find an empty bench. Resting my aching muscles, I take a seat, and look at the mountain landscape. Mountains, and trees.... all that fill this dank abyss known as MorganTown. Adjusting the beanie, that covered my golden blonde locks, my mind wanders to last years Mania. I have regained what was rightfully mine, the XWA World Heavyweight Championship, in my own Hometown of Toronto, Canada. A city held in high regard, for it's rich wrestling history. This year, it's held in the exact opposite, the only events that should be held here, is a NASCAR event, or, who can assemble their tractor the fastest.
Laughing loudly at my own remarks, I am interrupted by the sound of my cellphone's ringtone.
"Raven, it's Daff" her soft, sweet voice enters my ears.
"Hello, Daffney" I say happily. "Where are you?"
"I am at the hotel, with all the other superstars" she said with a short laugh. "You better get your ass over here, they are scheduled to do the press conference with you and Iser pretty soon"
"Oh, how could I possibly miss this" I said with obvious sarcasm tracing my words. "I will be there as soon as I can"
"Alright, I'll see you when you get here"
"Bye"
Daffney, my sweet Daffney. Such a great ally, most of all such a great friend. Who knows, maybe one day, something more. Grinning to myself, I get up from my seated position in search of the nearest Taxi cab. Who am I kidding? I should be looking for someone driving a tractor on the side of the road! Scanning the rather empty roads, to my surprise, I find a taxi. I flag him down, and tell him where to take me. He looks back at me, through the mirror, and begins to drive. Great, here I am, stuck with yet another poor disgrace for a human being. The sooner Wrestlemania comes and goes, the sooner I can get out of this hell whole.
Waterfront Place Hotel
Surviving the hectic ride from hell, by Cousin Eddy himself, I find myself at our hotel. It looks pretty snazzy, compared to the other various buildings I have seen in this ransack city. Pushing open the large doors, I am greeted by the local bellhop. Glancing at him, and shrugging him off, I begin to wander the halls in search for my room. Now, where would the star player in the company be? Looking at the numbers on the doors, I am snapped out of my counting, as I feel someone from behind nudge my shoulder. Spinning around on my heels, I am greeted by the face of the one and only, Daffney. She reaches outwards and gives me a hug. Happily returning the hug, she looks into my eyes, and jerks her head to the left.
"This is where we are staying" She says with a sly grin, she points to the end of the hall. "Down there is where we need to go now, the press conference is about to begin"
Nodding my head, I begin to follow Daffney into the large room. Upon entering, I am greeted by a ton of local news representitives, and various camera people. Looking forward on the stage, I see the GM himself, seated in front of a desk, looking rather serious. The boss is always serious. In this case, all of this surrounds him. Afterall, this is his hometown. Casually walking up to the stage, I take my seat next to the GM, as some random guy, I do not know, takes the microphone.
" I would like to thank all of you for attending this years WrestleMania conference. Before you are the two men who will be in the biggest Main event in Wrestlemania history. We are honored, to have them here today. You may ask them any questions you seem fit, that has to do with the match, or the event itself. But, before that, I would like to introduce at this time, the man in charge, and the #1 contender to the XWA World Heavyweight Championship. The GM of XWA, Seth Iser!"
The local media baboons applaud, and cheer on the hometown boy, as I roll my eyes. Iser slowly stands up and approaches the microphone. The media eagerly awaiting what he has to say.
