Post by Lord Hastings on Jul 9, 2017 19:53:49 GMT -5
Name: Cypress Morgan
Alias: Salem, Boogeyman
Nicknames: The All-American Asshole, Zombie Jesus
Year Inducted: 2017
Major Promotions: GIW, PPW, UGWC
Accomplishments:
Championships Held
HSW Tag Team Champion (w/ Bloodhound and Bryan Bryn Bryson)
PPW Television Champion
uCw Universal Heavyweight Champion
uCw King of Hardcore Champion
uCw Cross-Hemisphere Champion
UGWC World Heavyweight Champion
UGWC Cross-Hemisphere Champion
UGWC Cooperative Champion (w/ Chaos)
Achievements
UGWC Massive Melee Winner 2014
UGWC Creative Director (2016)
Career Notables:
Feuds
Chris Ward (PPW, 2008)
Donovan Hastings (UGWC, 2013)
Partnerships
Chaos (2013) - The Devil's Most Wanted
Matches
PPW Mutilation 2008 - Salem vs Chris Ward vs Harmony Taylor, Ascension and Television Titles
GIW Battleground 2009 - Salem vs Mickey Dragon
UGWC In Your Hands 2013 - Cypress Morgan vs Phrixus Deimos, Cross-Hemisphere Title
UGWC Battleground 2013 - Cypress Morgan and Chaos vs Jet Somers and Travis Pierce, Cooperative Title
UGWC Horizons 2013 - Cypress Morgan vs Donovan Hastings
UGWC Infinity 2014 - Cypress Morgan vs Donovan Hastings vs Zane Scott, Triple Threat for the World Heavyweight Title
UGWC No Holds Barred 2014 - Cypress Morgan vs Travis Roberts, Blindfold Match
Induction:
Clad in a standard - albeit extremely large - tuxedo, the man known throughout his career as 'The Drunken Buzzsaw' walks out onto the stage to a raucous ovation from the fans here in his adopted home city of New Orleans. Taking a gulp from the beer that is in his right hand, he places it down onto the podium, as he steps up towards it. A slight smile forms on his face, as he takes in the reaction from the fans - and wrestlers - that are in attendance here this evening. After a few months, he leans towards the microphone.
"God damn," he begins, his smile growing slightly bigger, "it hasn't been that long since you've seen me, has it?"
A chant of 'WELCOME BACK' begins amongst the sea of fans, and is soon replace by a chant of 'ONE MORE MATCH'. Chaos begins motioning for the crowd to pipe down.
"While I appreciate the welcome more than any of you will ever know," he begins, as the crowd begins to quiet down, "this night isn't about me. And it sure as hell isn't about me having any more matches. Besides, there is a certain cocksucker that saw to it, that the possibility of that is damn near zero."
The crowd boos as Chaos glares down at Baal and Ichabod, who are seated beside one another, off to his right. That glare is soon replaced with a smile though, as he leans towards the microphone again.
"Then again, never say never, right?"
Another round of cheers erupts, as Chaos immediately begins motioning for the crowd to calm down.
"Seriously though," he begins, "this shit ain't about me tonight. And I've already been told by Hans not to go long, because apparently on the microphone at live events, I'm considered to be somewhat of a liability to the company. Fucked if I know why…"
A smile from Chaos to Creative Director Hans Lieberjosch who is out in the crowd, and then Chaos gives the man the old one-fingered salute, much to his dismay.
"But I'll play by the rules, which I know is music to the ears of Xandy," he asks, as he looks down at Alexandra Burke, as she holds their beautiful nineteen-month-old daughter, Hayleigh Marie, "Right babe?"
Xandy yells out an exasperated 'yes', causing all in attendance to begin laughing, which in turn causes the child commonly referred to as Hay-Hay to begin yelling out as well, while she points up at her Daddy on the stage.
"Damn right, Hay-Hay," he says, as the crowd grows quiet, "you give 'em hell and keep their asses straight down there, alright?"
Chaos reaches into his inner tuxedo pocket and pulls out a stack of cue cards. He begins leafing through them, before looking back out at the crowd.
"I figured with tonight begin as important as it is," he begins, continuing to leaf through the cue cards, "I'd jot my thoughts down, so I don't leave anything out. But all of you guys that really know me… you know I'm better when I'm spitballin'. So fuck it…"
Chaos tosses the cue cards into the air, and watches as each flutters aimlessly to the ground.
"With all due respect to Horizons," he begins, as every set of eyes is directed towards him, "Wrestlestock is the single greatest wrestling event of the year, regardless of company name or location. From the people, to the festivities surrounding it, to the multi-day extravaganza itself… Wrestlestock is unlike any regular occurring event in wrestling history. Add in the fact that this year it is in front of the greatest fuckin' fans in the world, and it makes the whole shindig even more special."
A round of applause for the city of New Orleans, as Chaos waits for it to die down before continuing.
"It's damn fitting, if you ask me," he continues, "that this city is where I have been asked to come and speak to all of you here this evening. As all of you know, my wrestling career had come to a close years ago, and I never envisioned there being a scenario where I would find my way back to the squared circle. But like I said earlier… never say never. You see, one of my oldest and dearest friends had given me a call. He needed 'The Buzzsaw'. And he, and all of you, got 'The Buzzsaw'."
He takes another gulp from his beer.
"I've met a lot of people over the years in this industry," he continues, as he slightly loosens the black bowtie that is around his neck, "some I've liked, and some I haven't. Some I've grown to respect, and some I'm learned to detest. It has been a literal 'Who's Who' of names within this industry that I've stood with, and stood again… names like Ryp Fandango, Aaron McFleese, Buck Unreal, Klaus vonKnorre, Raenius, Baggs… but there has been one that has stood out through it all. Through all the long road trips, all the nights away from home, all the injuries sustained, all the ass whippin's handed out… through all of the shit that a person will go through when in this business, there has been one person that has always been there when I've needed him. One person that would have given me the shirt off of his back had I ever needed it. One person whose family took me in, and made me one of their own."
"I've watched in awe as this man has continued to defy expectations, regardless of what it was that he was trying to accomplish. Never make it in this business? Make them eat their words. Never be a champion? Win multiple titles in every company he's ever been in. Never be a legend in the ring? Have you heard the chants he still gets at shows?"
As if on cue, the crowd begins a 'CY-PRESS', chant, causing Chaos to break out into a large grin.
"Fuckin' a right," he agrees, as he points out at the masses. "Fuckin'. A. Right!"
Chaos drains the remnants of his beer, as the chants continue, forcing him to hold up his hands.
"Give me two more minutes, so he can enjoy this shit with me," he says, as a few of the wrestlers in attendance chuckle. "From uCw, to GIW, to PPW, to UGWC… he is a man that has carried entire company's on his back when situations have warranted. People like Chris Ward and Donovan Hastings have never been the same, after having feuded with him… and I can attest to that just by watching Hastings on a regular basis."
Donovan ignores the remark, choosing not even to look at Chaos after he has said it.
"PPW Mutilation 2008, GIW Battleground 2009, UGWC In Your Hands 2013, UGWC Infinity 2014… all events where this man absolutely stole the whole fuckin' show, and that is just a drop in the bucket with regards to what he has done in a wrestling ring. He is a multi-time champ, winning gold in damn near every company that has employed him… and when his wrestling career all but came to a stop, he only went on to become one of - if not the - greatest Creative Directors in company history. Man of many talents, and a fuckin' master of them all."
Another small chant of 'CY-PRESS', begins, forcing Chaos to speak over them.
"Whether you call him a former wrestler, a former Creative Director, the President of the Devil's Most Wanted, or simply Daddy… I have, still, and will continue to call this man my brother… because he has been that in every sense of the word for the last twenty years. He is the best friend a guy could have, and the best husband and father that I've ever known… ladies and gentlemen, get your asses up in respect for my brother, and the newest inductee into the UGWC Hall of Fame… CYPRESS FUCKIN' MORGAN!"
The crowd roars in approval as Chaos announces his name, the lights throughout fade to black. The sounds of a massive block engine ignite and tear through the auditorium, the guests and entertainment professionals looking a little nervous, whispers of "He wouldn't really ride his bike out on stage, would he?" permeating the area.
The screen lights up to reveal a scene of Bourbon Street in the well known French Quarters of New Orleans, a panoramic view as the sound of the engine being revved persists. A pair of headlights come to life and reveal a jet black 1977 Pontiac Trans Am trimmed in gold complete with a T shaped top and the screaming eagle on the hood. The fans go wild as we find none other than Cypress Morgan sitting behind the drivers seat, his hands gripping the wheel, the street lights reflected in a pair of Aviator styled sunglasses. The camera pans beside him to reveal a passenger, none other than the orginal Bandit himself, Burt Fucking Reynolds.
Mr. Reynolds: Punch it, kid, we got a long way to go!
Cypress: No, it's not far by any means actually... It's right over there.
Cypress motions with his head.
Mr. Reynolds: God damn it son, I said we got a long way to go!
Cypress: Oh! And a short time to get there!
With that, Cypress throws the car into a higher gear and stomps the gas, the car twisting in the street, a cloud of smoke from its tires before it explodes off into the distance. The sounds of the engine roaring only grow louder as the consideration of the crowd changes to the possibilities that Cypress Morgan is about to drive a car through the festivities. Even Chaos looks around in the light of the video.
The sound of the engine roaring grows its loudest just before the lights come on, people screaming nervously some running for the exits as a black blur erupts from the backstage area in the form of a beer cooler painted black and rigged up with a motor, gocart wheels, and handle bars. Black Label Society's "World of Trouble" begins...
"I drank all my fucking brew, and I ain't got no more..."
As the music blares over the speakers The All-American Asshole gets up from the motorized cooler and opens it up, tossing Chaos a fresh cold one. His longtime tag team partner cracks it open on the spot and toasts Cypress. Cypress grabs a few more and tosses them out to people in the crowd: to his wife Jezebel Saint, seated in the front row, beside her, his sister Eden Morgan, who sighs but opens it the beer and just looks at it. Jet Somers grabs one out the air, Lucky snatching one as well. The crowd roars in laughter as Cypress' son, Dyson, tries to steal the beer from his uncle, Jet sitting him down in his chair with a laugh. Cypress tosses him a beverage as well, the camera zooming in to reveal that it's a root beer, his daughter face-palming and hiding her face in shame.
Cypress tosses Chaos another since he's downed his already. The camera cuts to Eden who just looks at her beer, Killian King rolling his eyes beside her as he reaches over and plucks it out of her hands, popping the tab. Eden looks at him in surprise as he starts to drink, Cypress and Chaos nodding in approval and holding their beers up from the stage. Killian stops halfway through, makes a face, looks to the empty chair with "Alan Wallace" written in black marker on a piece of paper beside him, and then pours the rest of the beer out into the empty chair, the crowd booing.
Cypress takes another drink, standing on the stage in a solid black suit, his hair down, a chain still hanging from his belt, and the noticeable dark hued snake skin boots made from the dastardly cottonmouth. Cypress Morgan walks toward his longtime friend and confidant, he and Chaos opening their arms and embracing one another. A few pats on the back before Cypress kisses the top of that shiny bald scalp of Chaos' head. The crowd cheers as Cypress steps before the podium, placing his beer logo out toward the camera for product placement.
Cypress: Jesus H. Tap Dancing Christ, how about all this?
He smiles as the crowd goes wild again.
Cypress: I... for once have no words. I mean thankfully I can finally go without Jez using her award as an argument ender. "Oh? And where's your Hall of Fame award?"
He mocks Jez all the while watching her.
Jezebel: I still got mine first!
Jezebel shouts up at him, Cypress grinning.
Cypress: That's always the case mama...
Cypress winks as the crowd burst into chants of "That's what she said... That's what she said..."
Cypress: When I first started, I was trained by a man named Hal "Snowman" Winters, a legend in his own right. Long time active wrestler in places like GCW... Most of you younger cats probably have no idea who he is, but he was a guy cutting the early path for us and trailblazing the way that most of us followed. Hal made me his protege, his understudy, made me put in the time, long hours of training, I even had to put up with his tag team partner, some arrogant prick who was barely a few years older than me at the time. I used to wish that mother fucker's hair would fall out...
Cypress looks over to Chaos, already glaring at him.
Cypress: Sorry about that, brother.
Chaos shoots Cypress a middle finger before running his hand over his scalp. Cypress laughs and then looks back out at the crowd.
Cypress: Long story short... Hal was retiring and left me to run the roads with this asshole. Long nights, longer road trips, piss poor, living out of a car, shitty hotels, and even crappier food. But it was there I found my best friend, my brother... and the best god damned tag team partner in history. In life, and in this business we all love.
He looks to Chaos then back to the crowd.
Cypress: For those who don't remember, I used to wear a leather mask, and quote horror movies all day. I think my gimmick was a psychopathic film critic or some shit... and I took shit for it, from a guy with a badly done, fake German accent, wearing a trench coat, listening to industrial metal... and made a name for himself by hating everything.
A "KvK" chant starts up.
Cypress: Add to that a drunk Irishman... who also wore a mask, and the car got a lot more cramped. But we made it, and collectively had enough money to afford beer. Life was good.
He smirks, winks to his wife and continues.
Cypress: But as is life, Chaos took some time off, Klaus started teaming up with a psychotic serial killer clown who talked to his dog, and a soapbox preacher. They hit the road and Raenius and I were left alone. While drunk one night, we hatched an idea for a new stable.
He fingercombs through his beard
Cypress: I never even joined it, and I'm still apologizing for The Covenant after all these years. For the record... I'm sorry.
Cypress grips the podium and looks down for a moment, then back up.
Cypress: I moved on and started pulling this southern cult leader gimmick, years before anyone else, and still wore the mask...
He shakes his head.
Cypress: So then, Hal introduced me to a new kid he's discovered and like those before me, I treated him like shit...
Cheers go up around him.
Cypress: And then, Bryan Bryn Bryson went onto become my brother, joined then by my long time amigo Scott, who the world knows as Bloodhound. A little something called The Order of Chaos was born.
The crowd begins to chant O...O...C.
Cypress: Spanning six feds, and fifteen members simultaneously, we did alright.
Another cheer goes up, Cypress smirks.
Cypress: Fast forward a few years... The money is coming in, the opportunity is coming in, but I'm still miserable as hell. Something's missing in my life... and then she happened.
He points out to Jezebel.
Cypress: She tells me to stop covering up this handsome damn mug and smile a little.
The camera pans in on Mrs. Morgan also known as Jezebel Saint. The crowd chanting for the fellow Hall of Famer.
Cypress: So now I'm married to the hottest woman in the world, we have a couple of kids, I've taken a step back from the business. The Devil's Most Wanted are nationwide, I've opened a brewery. And we have the new generation, our legacy.
He looks to some of the current roster members as the fans begin to chant.
Cypress: UGWC... is and forever will be home for me. I love you guys, even Donovan.
Laughter all around, Hastings making a face at Cypress.
Cypress: We've had some amazing moments, and I cherish each and every one of them. I've been your World Champion, your hero, your heel, I've been the Creative Director with my red power tie, and now... Now I'm an immortal. To everyone and all those involved, thank you. To the fans and fellow talent, thank you. I could sit here all night and go on and on, but I'm going to leave you on this note.
Cypress pauses for a moment. Chaos approaching him as if to support him, before pulling out a black roll of cloth and unrolling it to reveal a Devil's Most Wanted tee shirt and holding it up.
Cypress: Support your local DMW, and buy any and all of our merchandise found outside this facility, and anywhere UGWC products are sold. Also, drink responsibly.
He smiles as cheers and laughter erupt around him at his shameless plug.
Alias: Salem, Boogeyman
Nicknames: The All-American Asshole, Zombie Jesus
Year Inducted: 2017
Major Promotions: GIW, PPW, UGWC
Accomplishments:
Championships Held
HSW Tag Team Champion (w/ Bloodhound and Bryan Bryn Bryson)
PPW Television Champion
uCw Universal Heavyweight Champion
uCw King of Hardcore Champion
uCw Cross-Hemisphere Champion
UGWC World Heavyweight Champion
UGWC Cross-Hemisphere Champion
UGWC Cooperative Champion (w/ Chaos)
Achievements
UGWC Massive Melee Winner 2014
UGWC Creative Director (2016)
Career Notables:
Feuds
Chris Ward (PPW, 2008)
Donovan Hastings (UGWC, 2013)
Partnerships
Chaos (2013) - The Devil's Most Wanted
Matches
PPW Mutilation 2008 - Salem vs Chris Ward vs Harmony Taylor, Ascension and Television Titles
GIW Battleground 2009 - Salem vs Mickey Dragon
UGWC In Your Hands 2013 - Cypress Morgan vs Phrixus Deimos, Cross-Hemisphere Title
UGWC Battleground 2013 - Cypress Morgan and Chaos vs Jet Somers and Travis Pierce, Cooperative Title
UGWC Horizons 2013 - Cypress Morgan vs Donovan Hastings
UGWC Infinity 2014 - Cypress Morgan vs Donovan Hastings vs Zane Scott, Triple Threat for the World Heavyweight Title
UGWC No Holds Barred 2014 - Cypress Morgan vs Travis Roberts, Blindfold Match
Induction:
Clad in a standard - albeit extremely large - tuxedo, the man known throughout his career as 'The Drunken Buzzsaw' walks out onto the stage to a raucous ovation from the fans here in his adopted home city of New Orleans. Taking a gulp from the beer that is in his right hand, he places it down onto the podium, as he steps up towards it. A slight smile forms on his face, as he takes in the reaction from the fans - and wrestlers - that are in attendance here this evening. After a few months, he leans towards the microphone.
"God damn," he begins, his smile growing slightly bigger, "it hasn't been that long since you've seen me, has it?"
A chant of 'WELCOME BACK' begins amongst the sea of fans, and is soon replace by a chant of 'ONE MORE MATCH'. Chaos begins motioning for the crowd to pipe down.
"While I appreciate the welcome more than any of you will ever know," he begins, as the crowd begins to quiet down, "this night isn't about me. And it sure as hell isn't about me having any more matches. Besides, there is a certain cocksucker that saw to it, that the possibility of that is damn near zero."
The crowd boos as Chaos glares down at Baal and Ichabod, who are seated beside one another, off to his right. That glare is soon replaced with a smile though, as he leans towards the microphone again.
"Then again, never say never, right?"
Another round of cheers erupts, as Chaos immediately begins motioning for the crowd to calm down.
"Seriously though," he begins, "this shit ain't about me tonight. And I've already been told by Hans not to go long, because apparently on the microphone at live events, I'm considered to be somewhat of a liability to the company. Fucked if I know why…"
A smile from Chaos to Creative Director Hans Lieberjosch who is out in the crowd, and then Chaos gives the man the old one-fingered salute, much to his dismay.
"But I'll play by the rules, which I know is music to the ears of Xandy," he asks, as he looks down at Alexandra Burke, as she holds their beautiful nineteen-month-old daughter, Hayleigh Marie, "Right babe?"
Xandy yells out an exasperated 'yes', causing all in attendance to begin laughing, which in turn causes the child commonly referred to as Hay-Hay to begin yelling out as well, while she points up at her Daddy on the stage.
"Damn right, Hay-Hay," he says, as the crowd grows quiet, "you give 'em hell and keep their asses straight down there, alright?"
Chaos reaches into his inner tuxedo pocket and pulls out a stack of cue cards. He begins leafing through them, before looking back out at the crowd.
"I figured with tonight begin as important as it is," he begins, continuing to leaf through the cue cards, "I'd jot my thoughts down, so I don't leave anything out. But all of you guys that really know me… you know I'm better when I'm spitballin'. So fuck it…"
Chaos tosses the cue cards into the air, and watches as each flutters aimlessly to the ground.
"With all due respect to Horizons," he begins, as every set of eyes is directed towards him, "Wrestlestock is the single greatest wrestling event of the year, regardless of company name or location. From the people, to the festivities surrounding it, to the multi-day extravaganza itself… Wrestlestock is unlike any regular occurring event in wrestling history. Add in the fact that this year it is in front of the greatest fuckin' fans in the world, and it makes the whole shindig even more special."
A round of applause for the city of New Orleans, as Chaos waits for it to die down before continuing.
"It's damn fitting, if you ask me," he continues, "that this city is where I have been asked to come and speak to all of you here this evening. As all of you know, my wrestling career had come to a close years ago, and I never envisioned there being a scenario where I would find my way back to the squared circle. But like I said earlier… never say never. You see, one of my oldest and dearest friends had given me a call. He needed 'The Buzzsaw'. And he, and all of you, got 'The Buzzsaw'."
He takes another gulp from his beer.
"I've met a lot of people over the years in this industry," he continues, as he slightly loosens the black bowtie that is around his neck, "some I've liked, and some I haven't. Some I've grown to respect, and some I'm learned to detest. It has been a literal 'Who's Who' of names within this industry that I've stood with, and stood again… names like Ryp Fandango, Aaron McFleese, Buck Unreal, Klaus vonKnorre, Raenius, Baggs… but there has been one that has stood out through it all. Through all the long road trips, all the nights away from home, all the injuries sustained, all the ass whippin's handed out… through all of the shit that a person will go through when in this business, there has been one person that has always been there when I've needed him. One person that would have given me the shirt off of his back had I ever needed it. One person whose family took me in, and made me one of their own."
"I've watched in awe as this man has continued to defy expectations, regardless of what it was that he was trying to accomplish. Never make it in this business? Make them eat their words. Never be a champion? Win multiple titles in every company he's ever been in. Never be a legend in the ring? Have you heard the chants he still gets at shows?"
As if on cue, the crowd begins a 'CY-PRESS', chant, causing Chaos to break out into a large grin.
"Fuckin' a right," he agrees, as he points out at the masses. "Fuckin'. A. Right!"
Chaos drains the remnants of his beer, as the chants continue, forcing him to hold up his hands.
"Give me two more minutes, so he can enjoy this shit with me," he says, as a few of the wrestlers in attendance chuckle. "From uCw, to GIW, to PPW, to UGWC… he is a man that has carried entire company's on his back when situations have warranted. People like Chris Ward and Donovan Hastings have never been the same, after having feuded with him… and I can attest to that just by watching Hastings on a regular basis."
Donovan ignores the remark, choosing not even to look at Chaos after he has said it.
"PPW Mutilation 2008, GIW Battleground 2009, UGWC In Your Hands 2013, UGWC Infinity 2014… all events where this man absolutely stole the whole fuckin' show, and that is just a drop in the bucket with regards to what he has done in a wrestling ring. He is a multi-time champ, winning gold in damn near every company that has employed him… and when his wrestling career all but came to a stop, he only went on to become one of - if not the - greatest Creative Directors in company history. Man of many talents, and a fuckin' master of them all."
Another small chant of 'CY-PRESS', begins, forcing Chaos to speak over them.
"Whether you call him a former wrestler, a former Creative Director, the President of the Devil's Most Wanted, or simply Daddy… I have, still, and will continue to call this man my brother… because he has been that in every sense of the word for the last twenty years. He is the best friend a guy could have, and the best husband and father that I've ever known… ladies and gentlemen, get your asses up in respect for my brother, and the newest inductee into the UGWC Hall of Fame… CYPRESS FUCKIN' MORGAN!"
The crowd roars in approval as Chaos announces his name, the lights throughout fade to black. The sounds of a massive block engine ignite and tear through the auditorium, the guests and entertainment professionals looking a little nervous, whispers of "He wouldn't really ride his bike out on stage, would he?" permeating the area.
The screen lights up to reveal a scene of Bourbon Street in the well known French Quarters of New Orleans, a panoramic view as the sound of the engine being revved persists. A pair of headlights come to life and reveal a jet black 1977 Pontiac Trans Am trimmed in gold complete with a T shaped top and the screaming eagle on the hood. The fans go wild as we find none other than Cypress Morgan sitting behind the drivers seat, his hands gripping the wheel, the street lights reflected in a pair of Aviator styled sunglasses. The camera pans beside him to reveal a passenger, none other than the orginal Bandit himself, Burt Fucking Reynolds.
Mr. Reynolds: Punch it, kid, we got a long way to go!
Cypress: No, it's not far by any means actually... It's right over there.
Cypress motions with his head.
Mr. Reynolds: God damn it son, I said we got a long way to go!
Cypress: Oh! And a short time to get there!
With that, Cypress throws the car into a higher gear and stomps the gas, the car twisting in the street, a cloud of smoke from its tires before it explodes off into the distance. The sounds of the engine roaring only grow louder as the consideration of the crowd changes to the possibilities that Cypress Morgan is about to drive a car through the festivities. Even Chaos looks around in the light of the video.
The sound of the engine roaring grows its loudest just before the lights come on, people screaming nervously some running for the exits as a black blur erupts from the backstage area in the form of a beer cooler painted black and rigged up with a motor, gocart wheels, and handle bars. Black Label Society's "World of Trouble" begins...
"I drank all my fucking brew, and I ain't got no more..."
As the music blares over the speakers The All-American Asshole gets up from the motorized cooler and opens it up, tossing Chaos a fresh cold one. His longtime tag team partner cracks it open on the spot and toasts Cypress. Cypress grabs a few more and tosses them out to people in the crowd: to his wife Jezebel Saint, seated in the front row, beside her, his sister Eden Morgan, who sighs but opens it the beer and just looks at it. Jet Somers grabs one out the air, Lucky snatching one as well. The crowd roars in laughter as Cypress' son, Dyson, tries to steal the beer from his uncle, Jet sitting him down in his chair with a laugh. Cypress tosses him a beverage as well, the camera zooming in to reveal that it's a root beer, his daughter face-palming and hiding her face in shame.
Cypress tosses Chaos another since he's downed his already. The camera cuts to Eden who just looks at her beer, Killian King rolling his eyes beside her as he reaches over and plucks it out of her hands, popping the tab. Eden looks at him in surprise as he starts to drink, Cypress and Chaos nodding in approval and holding their beers up from the stage. Killian stops halfway through, makes a face, looks to the empty chair with "Alan Wallace" written in black marker on a piece of paper beside him, and then pours the rest of the beer out into the empty chair, the crowd booing.
Cypress takes another drink, standing on the stage in a solid black suit, his hair down, a chain still hanging from his belt, and the noticeable dark hued snake skin boots made from the dastardly cottonmouth. Cypress Morgan walks toward his longtime friend and confidant, he and Chaos opening their arms and embracing one another. A few pats on the back before Cypress kisses the top of that shiny bald scalp of Chaos' head. The crowd cheers as Cypress steps before the podium, placing his beer logo out toward the camera for product placement.
Cypress: Jesus H. Tap Dancing Christ, how about all this?
He smiles as the crowd goes wild again.
Cypress: I... for once have no words. I mean thankfully I can finally go without Jez using her award as an argument ender. "Oh? And where's your Hall of Fame award?"
He mocks Jez all the while watching her.
Jezebel: I still got mine first!
Jezebel shouts up at him, Cypress grinning.
Cypress: That's always the case mama...
Cypress winks as the crowd burst into chants of "That's what she said... That's what she said..."
Cypress: When I first started, I was trained by a man named Hal "Snowman" Winters, a legend in his own right. Long time active wrestler in places like GCW... Most of you younger cats probably have no idea who he is, but he was a guy cutting the early path for us and trailblazing the way that most of us followed. Hal made me his protege, his understudy, made me put in the time, long hours of training, I even had to put up with his tag team partner, some arrogant prick who was barely a few years older than me at the time. I used to wish that mother fucker's hair would fall out...
Cypress looks over to Chaos, already glaring at him.
Cypress: Sorry about that, brother.
Chaos shoots Cypress a middle finger before running his hand over his scalp. Cypress laughs and then looks back out at the crowd.
Cypress: Long story short... Hal was retiring and left me to run the roads with this asshole. Long nights, longer road trips, piss poor, living out of a car, shitty hotels, and even crappier food. But it was there I found my best friend, my brother... and the best god damned tag team partner in history. In life, and in this business we all love.
He looks to Chaos then back to the crowd.
Cypress: For those who don't remember, I used to wear a leather mask, and quote horror movies all day. I think my gimmick was a psychopathic film critic or some shit... and I took shit for it, from a guy with a badly done, fake German accent, wearing a trench coat, listening to industrial metal... and made a name for himself by hating everything.
A "KvK" chant starts up.
Cypress: Add to that a drunk Irishman... who also wore a mask, and the car got a lot more cramped. But we made it, and collectively had enough money to afford beer. Life was good.
He smirks, winks to his wife and continues.
Cypress: But as is life, Chaos took some time off, Klaus started teaming up with a psychotic serial killer clown who talked to his dog, and a soapbox preacher. They hit the road and Raenius and I were left alone. While drunk one night, we hatched an idea for a new stable.
He fingercombs through his beard
Cypress: I never even joined it, and I'm still apologizing for The Covenant after all these years. For the record... I'm sorry.
Cypress grips the podium and looks down for a moment, then back up.
Cypress: I moved on and started pulling this southern cult leader gimmick, years before anyone else, and still wore the mask...
He shakes his head.
Cypress: So then, Hal introduced me to a new kid he's discovered and like those before me, I treated him like shit...
Cheers go up around him.
Cypress: And then, Bryan Bryn Bryson went onto become my brother, joined then by my long time amigo Scott, who the world knows as Bloodhound. A little something called The Order of Chaos was born.
The crowd begins to chant O...O...C.
Cypress: Spanning six feds, and fifteen members simultaneously, we did alright.
Another cheer goes up, Cypress smirks.
Cypress: Fast forward a few years... The money is coming in, the opportunity is coming in, but I'm still miserable as hell. Something's missing in my life... and then she happened.
He points out to Jezebel.
Cypress: She tells me to stop covering up this handsome damn mug and smile a little.
The camera pans in on Mrs. Morgan also known as Jezebel Saint. The crowd chanting for the fellow Hall of Famer.
Cypress: So now I'm married to the hottest woman in the world, we have a couple of kids, I've taken a step back from the business. The Devil's Most Wanted are nationwide, I've opened a brewery. And we have the new generation, our legacy.
He looks to some of the current roster members as the fans begin to chant.
Cypress: UGWC... is and forever will be home for me. I love you guys, even Donovan.
Laughter all around, Hastings making a face at Cypress.
Cypress: We've had some amazing moments, and I cherish each and every one of them. I've been your World Champion, your hero, your heel, I've been the Creative Director with my red power tie, and now... Now I'm an immortal. To everyone and all those involved, thank you. To the fans and fellow talent, thank you. I could sit here all night and go on and on, but I'm going to leave you on this note.
Cypress pauses for a moment. Chaos approaching him as if to support him, before pulling out a black roll of cloth and unrolling it to reveal a Devil's Most Wanted tee shirt and holding it up.
Cypress: Support your local DMW, and buy any and all of our merchandise found outside this facility, and anywhere UGWC products are sold. Also, drink responsibly.
He smiles as cheers and laughter erupt around him at his shameless plug.
