Post by Centurion on Jul 1, 2020 17:38:37 GMT -5
Centurion: Sure is beautiful, isn’t it?
(UGWC City, the custom built city in the middle of the Sonoran Desert, made specifically for the UGWC’s WrestleStock Festival. The city is beautiful – an oasis in the middle of an otherwise baron place. Pools, nightclubs, hotels, restaurants – it is the kind of place you see in your dreams.
We open up overlooking the city from somewhere high up. Gazing into the city is XWF legend Andy “Centurion” Cortinovis, as well as his manager and longtime business partner, Walter Crowe. Centurion has a grin on his face as his eyes dart around the various sights of the city.)
Centurion: It’s unbelievable the amount of work that went into this place. How a wrestling federation was able to build their own city from scratch is beyond me. The International Olympic Committee doesn’t have that kind of pull.
Walter: The UGWC has been doing great business for over a decade now, and they didn’t have a Shane Carver running the place who was squandering all their money. This is what can be achieved with the right leadership.
Centurion: Absolutely fascinating. You know, they say you can see this city from space.
Walter: Yeah. They designed it to be a beacon that can be seen for miles.
Centurion: …THEN WHY THE HELL CAN’T WE FIND IT?!
(The image of the city crumbles in Centurion’s hand as we see that it was not the city, but rather just a picture of the city that they were gazing into. Instead, we see Centurion and Walter standing in front of some old, shady gas station in the middle of the desert. There is no traffic for miles, and civilization seems far away, if it exists at all. Centurion raises his arms in the air and paces back and forth in front of their Rolls-Royce Phantom.)
Centurion: “No, you have to take care of your own travel, but don’t worry, Mr. Cortinovis. It will be easy to find.” Remember that shit? We should have demanded travel, Walter. I TOLD you we should have demanded travel.
Walter: We weren’t going to get travel. What we SHOULD have done is ask for GPS coordinates before we got in the plane, but someone said “Oh, we’ll just wing it.”
Centurion: Well I expected there to be, like…signs and shit! Go to any Podunk county fair in the country, and you’ll see signs for several miles in either direction. It’s almost like they don’t want us to find this place.
(Centurion stops pacing and places his elbows down on the car before burying his head in his hands. The usually white Phantom is covered in dust – dust that is now all over Centurion’s elbows and arms. He does not seem to care, though, as he rocks his head back and forth in his hands.)
Centurion: We’re going to die out here.
Walter: Quit being so dramatic. We’re not going to die out here. This isn’t the Arizona Desert in the 1800’s. We’re only a few miles from the Mexican border. Worst case scenario, we head to Mexico, find a bar, get smashed on Tequila, and call it a weekend. Besides, if we don’t check in with the UGWC, someone will check in on us.
Voice: You boys lookin’ for that there rasslin’ show?
(Centurion picks his head up as he and Walter turn to face the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway of the gas station is a clerk, wearing a white shirt and a beat up pair of jeans.)
Centurion: Yeah. You know how to get there?
Clerk: Shur do. Just keep goin the way yer goin for ‘nother 10 minutes, then take a right and jump on 610. Make shur yer headin’ East – if ya go West, yer gonna wind up in Flagstaff.
Centurion: We’re in Arizona. Why do you have that thick Texas accent?
Clerk: This ain’t no Texas accent. Yer just too lazy to research what a rural Arizona accent sounds like fer this roleplay.
Centurion: What?
Clerk: What?
Walter: Thank you for your time. Do these pumps still work? Can we get some gas?
Clerk: Shur…if y’all got cash.
(Walter reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He leafs through it a bit before pulling out a fifth and handing it over to the clerk. The clerk just nods before turning around and walking back into the store. Walter pulls out the nozzle and starts filling up the car.)
Walter: See. All you had to do was ask for directions.
Centurion: Who are you, my wife? It’s not the point! The planning for this whole trip has been piss poor.
Walter: It’s not my fault. In the XWF, you get told a venue and a city, and I’m able to make all the proper arrangements around that. Here, I’m told it’s some mystical city in the middle of the desert, and the hotel room is provided, and we get to feast on buffets filled with cannoli’s.
Centurion: Cannoli’s?
Walter: You can’t have any, you’re wrestling this weekend. Point is, I was told very little information except for what was in the press release.
Centurion: Hey, I understand. Same thing happened to me. All I was told was “sign up”, and next thing I know, I’m in a tournament with a bunch of dudes I never met before and I’m facing Travis Roberts on the second night of the show.
Walter: Pierce.
(Centurion turns his head and raises his eyebrows at Walter.)
Centurion: What?
Walter: Travis Pierce. That’s your first round opponent. Travis Roberts is a completely different person entirely.
(Centurion gets a confused look on his face as he shuffles through his pockets. He pulls out a folded up piece of paper with some notes on it. He quickly unfolds the notes and points to them as he addresses Walter.)
Centurion: No, see, here are my notes. Travis Roberts, born the same year I was, calls himself The Blessed One, cocky asshole, lots of suplexes…
(Before Centurion can get further in his notes, Walter reaches into his own pocket and pulls out a flyer for the event. He hands it over to Centurion as the gas stops pumping.)
Walter: Here’s the official card. You’re facing Travis Pierce. You did research on the wrong person.
(Centurion looks at the flyer, and back to his notes, and back and forth a few times. Each time his eyes go back and forth, the look on his face gets angrier and angrier. Finally, he takes both pieces of paper and crumbles them up.)
Centurion: You gotta be joking me! There are two Travis’s? Who the hell hires two Travis’s?! Especially two Travis’s with generic ass last names! Oh, this is awful. Who the fuck is Travis Pierce?! Now I gotta research THAT guy…
Walter: Oh no! God forbid you find out who your opponent is less than two weeks before you have to face them! You know, you’ve been really jaded in your comeback. Back in the old days, you would go up against mystery opponents or take part in tournaments where you would have no idea who you were going to be in the ring with. Now you’re booked once every two weeks, if that, and you get ample opportunity to watch all the film you want on them.
(Centurion takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.)
Centurion: Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Travis Roberts, Travis Pierce, Travis Barker, Travis Hedlund – I guess it doesn’t really matter which Travis I end up fighting, the goal remains the same. No matter which Travis I face, I will be facing someone I haven’t met before. I guess that’s the whole point of this tournament, isn’t it?
(Walter looks at the amount of gas he has pumped into the car, as well as the amount of money he has spent, which is considerably less than $50. He looks towards the gas station, and back to Centurion.)
Walter: You think he would give me change?
Centurion: I wouldn’t push it, if I were you. I’m going to be honest – surprised he didn’t come running out with a shotgun looking to steal the car.
(As soon as Centurion says that, the sound of a gun being cocked is heard from inside the gas station. Centurion and Walter both go wide eyed as they stare at each other.)
Walter: I believe that is our cue…
(Centurion and Walter both scramble to the car as the camera cuts.)
---Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself------
Well, isn’t this some shit?
The year is 2020, and not only is Centurion still wrestling, but he has decided to step outside the confines of an XWF ring to take part in the UGWC’s WrestleStock Tournament. If you so much as suggested all of this five years ago, you would have been mistaken for a crazy person. My career was dead to rights. Then, it was a neat, nostalgic little comeback. And now? Now, I’m looking at winning one of the biggest tournaments in professional wrestling after coming off of one of the greatest Hart Title reigns in history.
…oh, wait, I’m sorry. I forgot I’m speaking to a brand new audience. I mean, I’m sure the real pro wrestling fans know who I am, but for all you casuals who turn into UGWC and nothing else – hello! I’m Centurion! XWF Legend, all time wins record holder, multiple time champion…
…and you’re next WrestleStock Open Champion.
“But Centurion”, you may be saying out loud at your computer while sucking down that leftover Subway sandwich that doesn’t taste very good but, fuck it, you paid for it and you’re going to eat it “EVERYONE says that when they enter the tournament. How are you any different?”
I can stand here and speak in platitudes all day long. I can fluff up my resume and talk like a hot shot and rattle off names of opponents I beat that you never heard of, but none of that is going to convince you that I’m honestly the best wrestler in this field. So, don’t take my word for it…take UGWC’s word for it.
See, I randomly decided to enter this tournament as people talked about it on Twitter. I thought it would be fun. I’ve faced everyone in the XWF, so why not expand my horizons a bit and see how well I do against new competition? So I submit my name for the tournament, send along all of my information to the people at the top, and announce my entry on Twitter.
And then all Hell broke loose.
Not long after I signed up for the tournament, Shawn Warstein decided he was going to enter, because of course he fucking did. There isn’t anything I do that that asshole won’t do immediately after me. He has built an entire career out of trying to show me up. A lot of times, it has been successful. Sometimes it hasn’t. Still, whatever, he was entering the tournament. No big deal.
Then Vinnie Lane opened his fucking mouth, and suddenly this was no longer a fun, weekend adventure. Without my knowledge or permission, I was drafted into a war.
So while I will talk up the XWF – yes, it’s the best fed with the best wrestlers – don’t expect me to be some cheerleader for my colleagues. This isn’t one of those “if I can’t win, I hope one of you do” situations. No, fuck all of them, ESPECIALLY Vinnie Lane. If anyone deserves to win this tournament LESS than he does, I don’t know who it might be.
Most of you won’t know who the XWF guys are when we step foot into the ring, so allow me to help you along with your research. Vinnie Lane is a burnout. He won a bunch of matches several years ago when the federation was on life support. He somehow – God only knows how – got roped into the front office. Instead of settling in and doing his work, he decided to give his girlfriend a job for no fucking reason whatsoever. To this day, I don’t even know what she was being paid to do, except blow Vinnie under the desk. While the UGWC was saving up money for a fucking city, the XWF was hiring the significant others of the bosses and giving them six figures to do absolutely nothing.
Oh, hi Roxy Cotton! I’m sure you’re probably watching this. Know that I never liked you.
But that wasn’t enough for Vinnie. No, he then had to create his own show, Anarchy, which is exactly how it sounds. Nobody actually wrestles on that show. I once saw two men fight on a glass boat floating around a ring. That’s the kind of braindead ideas this dude had. Luckily, Theo Pryce and James Raven ended up buying up shares in the company, and they’ve actually been keeping the place well maintained while Vinnie does coke in the ladies’ locker room.
And if he was JUST a strung out hippie who got paid to sleep in the office, that would be fine. I wouldn’t like it, but I can live with it. Doesn’t bother me. But no, he decides he wants to issue a “warning” to the UGWC, listing those of us who decided to sign up for the show as his “representatives”, AND he decides to enter himself in the tournament – you know, as an “insurance policy”. Just in case his current Universal Champion, current Anarchy Champion, three former Xtreme Champions, and a living legend of the XWF can’t get it done.
That statement pissed us off so much that Warstein DROPPED OUT of the fucking tournament! The XWF Universal Champion, the person who is supposed to be the top “representative”, and he decided he didn’t want any part of this after all. Not that I blame him – I considered doing it, too, but I think winning it and rubbing it in Vinnie’s face would be sweeter than just walking away.
Fuck you, Vinnie. You put an unnecessary target on our backs, and you did it all so the talent that can take you down gets eliminated early. You can beat most of these UGWC folks. I know you can. But the incoming XWF talent? Oh, we’d all kick the shit out of you. That’s why you refuse to lace up the boots back home – you know full well how embarrassing it would be for you. But, if you can talk a big game about how great we all are, and how we’re coming to send some sort of message, maybe the bookers will throw the best talent they have at us in order to stop us.
Back to my original point. You want to know why I’m hot shit – because the UGWC decided to take one of their own – the most decorated UGWC member to sign up for the tournament – and place him against me. They could have drawn me against a free agent. They could have put me against Jack Puffer – dude has a funny name, is from a fed I never heard of before, it would be a fresh match. But no, they put me up against former UGWC World Heavyweight Champion Travis Ro…Pierce. Travis Pierce.
The strategy here is simple – knock me out early and try your luck against the rest of the XWF “representatives”. It’s not a terrible strategy, considering who is in the Open Tournament. I already touched on Vinnie Lane…as has most of the tri-state area. Big D has gone from trying to elevate himself into a legitimate Universal Title contender to being the biggest name on the shittiest show where he faces C level talent every two weeks. Don’t listen to whatever he says – dude is pretty harmless. He won’t make it out of the first round.
Felix Jones is brand new and completely overrated. He won the Xtreme Title upon walking into the company and everyone decided to anoint him as the next big superstar. He has then proceeded to let everyone down. And Ned Kaye is my buddy, but he apparently has decided to run under his own flag. Fair enough – get as much value out of your brand as possible. If he does well, a massive pay day is in store for him. Well done, indeed, though I have to say, I don’t know how much I like his chances. He’s paired off against Adelaide Ainsworth, who I’ve never met, but her reputation precedes her. She’s tough, and Ned has a soft spot for the ladies.
There are other XWFers coming in to fight in the Cross Hemisphere thing, including my homegirl Ruby who is going to walk away with the whole thing, but when it comes to the main tournament – the IMPORTANT tournament – I’m the biggest threat there is from the XWF side.
So you’re the hope, Travis Pierce. You’re the one the UGWC has called upon to put down this “invasion”, and bring home the big one for the home team. That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person. Of course, you’ll say you’re “up for it”. You’ll act cool and calm, and right now, you might be. In fact, you might be looking at this tournament, this many days out, and thinking you already have it won. But there’s a LONG time to go before the festivities kick off, and the closer we get, the more the pressure is going to be placed on you.
You’re going to get a phone call from your bosses, telling you what it would mean to the UGWC to have one of their own win the tournament. You’re going to have your colleagues tell you how proud of you they will be when you defend this federation’s honor. And you’ll get letters from UGWC fans from all around the world, cheering you on and telling you how much they’re rooting for you. And after a while, that can begin to fuck with you.
You may not know a ton about me, Travis, so let me fill you in on some things. Back home, I am considered one of the biggest fan favorites in the entire federation. For nearly two decades, fans have gotten behind me and cheered me on as I faced some of the most vile people in professional wrestling. I was an icon, and a hero to a lot of people. This isn’t to toot my own horn – it’s just to show you where my placement in the XWF has been since 2001.
But in UGWC? I know I’m not going to get that. I know I’m going to be walking into enemy territory, and the fans are going to boo the hell out of me the moment I step out from the back. I am going to go from the biggest hero to the biggest villain all in the manor of one weekend, and let me tell you, Travis – I’m really looking forward to it. I look forward to them booing me everytime I punch you in the face, I look forward to them booing me when I pin you, and I look forward to them booing me when I stand victorious at the end of the weekend as your WrestleStock Open Winner. You want to know why, Travis?
Because no matter what happens, you’re going to have to live with it the following week. If you disappoint the UGWC audience, that isn’t my concern in the least. You’ll be walking down to the ring, looking at the disappointed fans in the audience, while I’m off being great somewhere else. The cheers you receive at WrestleStock will turn into boos the very next night, when the icon of the UGWC, the one meant to bring home the trophy for the entire UGWC faithful, the one who MADE THE FUCKING THING, couldn’t get the job done in the first round. People are fickle, Travis. They love you when they think they can get something out of you. Right now, you’re the most loved person in the UGWC. Even those who are considered your enemies are going to be buttering you up and pushing you to greatness. But the moment those dreams come crashing down? Suddenly all those who loved you are nowhere to be seen.
And hey, I know I said I’ll do this and dip out, but who knows? If I win the WrestleStock Open, maybe I’ll stick around and challenge for the World Title. I know I can beat Angie Vaughn. Then again, having to hear Sarah Lacklan bitch about it on social media may not be worth it.
Go ahead and take your shots at me, Travis. Go ahead and stand in front of your camera, and in front of your audience of zero, and make your stupid jokes and your stupid catchphrases. I don’t know who could possibly care, but whatever, be my guest. Talk shit about my hair or my age or the fact that I have a tooth directly in the middle of my face. I guarantee there isn’t a single thing you can say about me that I haven’t already heard before. 20 years – eventually everything gets thrown at you, so I’m not even going to be insulted. Whatever you say will either be A) an old hat, or B) completely false.
I will say, I do feel slightly bad for you, Travis. See, you’re going to get my full, 100% attention. All these other folks in the tournament – I may or may not be facing them, so I don’t really have the time to start studying tape on every single one of them. If I end up facing someone like Jack Puffer or Duncan Ryder or…Sheeta Thor? Shinta? Sh…Thor, it’s not going to be easy. I’ll have to adapt on the fly. Ah, but you, Travis Pierce of Los Angeles, California? You don’t have that luxury. Before the festival starts, I’m going to know everything about you. I will have a counter for every move in your arsenal.
To the UGWC front office – you better hope Duncan Ryder puts on the best performance of his career. You better hope Lucy Wylde actually likes you and commits to sticking around. After July 11th, these are the only two wrestlers you’re going to have left in the tournament your hosting. I say this with zero hesitation – Travis Pierce can not beat me, and if this truly was the best you could find, then you’ve already lost.
Vinnie Lane thought he was starting a war. Instead, what he has done was create an outlet for me to prove my naysayers wrong one more time. “You can’t come back”, they said. “You can’t main event pay per views anymore”, they said. “You can’t win a title”, they said. And now they say “You can’t win a non-XWF sanctioned tournament.” Watch me. Fuck around and find out. When I do win, though, I won’t be walking into Anarchy, or Savage, or Warfare to receive my standing ovation in my sea of pyro. No, I’ll be walking into Synergy, cup in my hand and a smile on my face. And I expect pyro. I expect balloons and confetti and the entire red carpet treatment. And I will be boo’d out of the building. I will likely start a riot. But these will be my demands as your WrestleStock Open winner. And I want Travis Pierce there, too. And Angie Vaughn. And every other member of the UGWC roster. I want them standing in that ring so they can take a good look at what a real champion looks like. I want to see the sweat form on Angie Vaughn’s perfectly manicured eyebrows. I want Konrad Raab to take a look at the man he wishes he could be. And I want to see the shame in Travis Pierce’s eyes as the UGWC tosses him into the trash, and hoists me up as their new hero. But understand, none of this is personal, Travis. It’s just the hand you were given. If this bothers you, take it up with the committee who put this tournament together. It’s their fault you were never given a chance. You just aren’t as good as I am, and that’s the truth.
…and the truth hurts. *wink*