Post by Lord Hastings on Apr 17, 2021 18:54:26 GMT -5
Hastings: Thank you in advance for your attention. Obviously there is a lot going on this week, but I’m sure we can all agree that my match at Incursion is of paramount importance, and there are a number of inequities that need to be addressed immediately.
Donovan stands in the Consortium’s conference room at the UGWC Arena, addressing the impatient looking trio of “Creative Director” Holden Orson, “Sports Entertainment Executive” Owen Peterson, and “Director of Human Resources” Robert Ooley. Donovan is standing in front of a board on which he has affixed pictures of each of his teammates, his own picture being significantly higher and larger, as well as stick figure drawings representing the opponents. Various strings connect some of the pictures and stick figures.
Hastings: As the clear captain of the team and obvious leader of our locker room, it falls to me to inform you that you have done a pitiful job of assembling this card and most emphatically the squad that is specifically intended to back me up. Let’s examine this in further detail.
Donovan extends a pointer which he uses to tap each picture.
Hastings: If you take the number of wins that Carlson Rex has, and you add to it the number of wins that Angel DuMore has, and you multiply that by the combined championships of Rex, DuMore, and Montague Cervantes, you’re left with the same number of wins that Rex has, which is really a small number, probably less than the number of Creative Directors we’ve had over the years.
Ooley: You are shitting on me sideways.
Hastings: If you’ll indulge me, I’ve also prepared a slideshow.
Ooley: Listen, Hamstrings. There’s not much that the Lamestreamer here and I can agree on.
Holden: Scoff.
Ooley: But what I’m entirely sure we’re on the fucking same page about, it’s that we don’t really care what you have to do or what you think about it. We expect a 7-0 sweep in Columbus. Seven matches. Seven wins. You do whatever you have to do to get your part of it done.
Holden: Begrudged agreement.
Ooley stands and thumps his bat on the ground before storming out of the office. Holden gives the door a dismissive wave before leaving out of the window. Donovan glares at Owen.
Hastings: Fools. They don’t get it.
Peterson: I think they do.
Hastings: How can you suggest that?
Peterson: Because they see this for what it is. Everyone does. If you ask anyone to put together a five person UGWC team to take on a rival promotion, they’re going to throw out names like Roberts, Wallace, Somers, and Scott. But none of them are here right now. We don’t have that option available to us. We have you.
Hastings: Me and the people you found loitering in catering. You couldn’t even give me Hide.
Peterson: Hide’s match with Casanova English is just as important as the ten person Co-Op.
Hastings: Then let Hide lead the team and spotlight me against English. I deserve at least that.
Owen sighs.
Peterson: You do. But what does UGWC deserve?
Hastings: I don’t owe UGWC anything. I’ve given it everything I have.
Peterson: Yes, you have. And that’s entirely the point, isn’t it?
Hastings: What do you mean?
Peterson: Those names I mentioned a minute ago, Roberts and Somers and the others...they haven’t always been here. They come. They go. You’ve been here since day one, and you and I both know you’ll be here to turn out the lights when the time comes.
Donovan stares at Owen, but after a moment lowers his head and takes a deep breath, rubbing his forehead before he gently kicks the ground.
Hastings: Make the call.
Johnny: Of COURSE I knew you’d come to your senses eventually. It only makes sense after we won on Synergy IN SPITE OF YOU, that you’d figure out which side you need to butter your bread on. AND AS FAR AS YOUR-
Hastings: Enough.
Johnny and Donovan are alone in Owen’s office.
Hastings: We’re not on a podcast, we’re not being interviewed. There are no cameras here. You don’t need to perform for anyone.
Johnny: Well now I KNOW you have cameras hidden in here, don’t I?
Donovan folds his arms and stares at Johnny.
Johnny: Fine. What do you want?
Hastings: I’m sure you’re aware that Carnage has an insider feeding them information. Someone familiar with our roster is providing them with a game plan, a road map on how to beat us.
Johnny: How DARE you accuse me of such a thing? I’m deeply offended and DEMAND you take it back.
Hastings: No, this is someone that knows what they’re talking about.
Johnny: Well now I’m offended for entirely different reasons.
Hastings: A big part of the reason that I’m the most iconic UGWC Entertainment Professional in history is because my attention has always been fully focused on UGWC. But you, the #1 Hit-Maker, you’ve been around the block. You’re watching everything, looking for talent to vulture and bring into your flock. If anybody around here is going to know the ins and outs of the Carnage team, it’s you.
Johnny: I think you just called me a whore.
Hastings: You know I’m handicapped at Incursion, handcuffed with a disadvantageous team in a match I need to win, facing opponents walking in with cliff notes on what to do. It would be helpful if someone could do the same for us.
Johnny: Fine.
Johnny thinks a moment.
Johnny: Your problem isn’t who these people are. It’s who they AREN’T.
Hastings: What’s that supposed to mean?
Johnny: These aren’t icons of Carnage Wrestling. It’s not Jack Michaels or Maggie Lockheart or Wil Prydor standing across from you. Only one of the group has even been a champion in Carnage. But EACH and EVERY one of them would love to make a name for themselves by pounding the piss out of the 5-Time UGWC World Heavyweight Champion and do what somehow nobody has been able to do yet, which is to shut your damn mouth. They’re hungry in ways I’ve never seen you be since I came here. Maybe there was a time you were, but like I warned you last week, you want to keep riding that whole ‘ding-dang consarn non-UGWCers steppin a-foot on OUR hallowed land’ bullshit, and meanwhile there is an entire legion of people ready to pass you by.
Hastings: Let me make this perfectly clear. I don’t have a problem with a new generation coming to UGWC. I’ve never had a problem with that. Bring everyone in, line them all up. My point is that no one, yesterday, today, or tomorrow, is better than me.
Johnny: Sloane Taylor.
Hastings: I’ve beaten her before.
Johnny: Montague Cervantes. Angie Vaughn.
Hastings: What are you-
Johnny: Hide. Tempest. Centurion. Gabriel Baal.
Hastings: Are you taking attendance?
Johnny: These are all people who have held SINGLES championships THIS YEAR. How long has it been for you? Is it three years or four? And how long since you successfully DEFENDED one? But don’t worry, Donovan. Keep plugging away, and I’m sure the #1 Hit-Maker could find a spot for you.
Donovan clenches both of his fists, and Johnny puts a hand up.
Johnny: No need to summon your thugs. I’ll see myself out.
He strolls towards the door, holding up a picture of Sloane as he goes.
Johnny: Wouldn’t do you any good anyway, I’ve still got plenty of these.
Donovan watches him go before gently kicking the floor and mumbling under his breath.
This year hasn’t gone the way I had planned.
I was supposed to win the Global Challenge, but was undone by chicanery and nonsense. My statement victory at Infinity was marred by the tantrum of a child that took his ball and went home. The Conquest Title, a clear path back to the World Heavyweight Title, ripped out from underneath me. None of it went the way it was drawn up, but then again very little in my career has.
Now I find myself burdened by my latest glorious purpose, leading the way for UGWC against a rabble of the muck that Carnage Wrestling is scraping off its collective boots. As I understand it, we could dub your team the Act of Defiance Also-Rans. Sebastian Hawke loses his title. Dominick Strife blows his chance to win one. The only reason you have a win amongst the whole lot of you is because the Zachs faced each other.
You’re all back on your heels. I get that. I’ve been there. You’re looking for that breakthrough opportunity. Now you come to me with the opportunity to make all of Carnage Wrestling proud. Doubtless great opportunity and reward awaits you all if you could defeat me. You’d likely be granted the championship opportunities of your choosing. Even UGWC would likely lay out the red carpet for you, if the past few years are any indication. They’ll let just about anybody in here these days.
You take a look at the rest of my team, and I’ll allow that it leaves much to be desired. But I’ve overcome greater shackles before. I carried Dave Rydell to a Cooperative Championship. I’ve done the same with others, and have no doubt I could do the same with any among this group. Whatever you think of them, I have no doubts I’ll hear their names long after I’ve forgotten all of yours.
Duncan Ryder had the opportunity to make his name at Infinity. The magnitude of the task was too much for him and he chose instead to walk away. As bitter an aftertaste as his choice left me, I couldn’t help but note a hint of wisdom in his decision. To face me is to find yourself on your knees before your Lord. You all could do yourselves a collective favor and walk away as well, shrink back to Baltimore with your tails between your legs. Spare yourselves the embarrassment that awaits you, and await you it does.
That much is inevitable.
Donovan stands in the Consortium’s conference room at the UGWC Arena, addressing the impatient looking trio of “Creative Director” Holden Orson, “Sports Entertainment Executive” Owen Peterson, and “Director of Human Resources” Robert Ooley. Donovan is standing in front of a board on which he has affixed pictures of each of his teammates, his own picture being significantly higher and larger, as well as stick figure drawings representing the opponents. Various strings connect some of the pictures and stick figures.
Hastings: As the clear captain of the team and obvious leader of our locker room, it falls to me to inform you that you have done a pitiful job of assembling this card and most emphatically the squad that is specifically intended to back me up. Let’s examine this in further detail.
Donovan extends a pointer which he uses to tap each picture.
Hastings: If you take the number of wins that Carlson Rex has, and you add to it the number of wins that Angel DuMore has, and you multiply that by the combined championships of Rex, DuMore, and Montague Cervantes, you’re left with the same number of wins that Rex has, which is really a small number, probably less than the number of Creative Directors we’ve had over the years.
Ooley: You are shitting on me sideways.
Hastings: If you’ll indulge me, I’ve also prepared a slideshow.
Ooley: Listen, Hamstrings. There’s not much that the Lamestreamer here and I can agree on.
Holden: Scoff.
Ooley: But what I’m entirely sure we’re on the fucking same page about, it’s that we don’t really care what you have to do or what you think about it. We expect a 7-0 sweep in Columbus. Seven matches. Seven wins. You do whatever you have to do to get your part of it done.
Holden: Begrudged agreement.
Ooley stands and thumps his bat on the ground before storming out of the office. Holden gives the door a dismissive wave before leaving out of the window. Donovan glares at Owen.
Hastings: Fools. They don’t get it.
Peterson: I think they do.
Hastings: How can you suggest that?
Peterson: Because they see this for what it is. Everyone does. If you ask anyone to put together a five person UGWC team to take on a rival promotion, they’re going to throw out names like Roberts, Wallace, Somers, and Scott. But none of them are here right now. We don’t have that option available to us. We have you.
Hastings: Me and the people you found loitering in catering. You couldn’t even give me Hide.
Peterson: Hide’s match with Casanova English is just as important as the ten person Co-Op.
Hastings: Then let Hide lead the team and spotlight me against English. I deserve at least that.
Owen sighs.
Peterson: You do. But what does UGWC deserve?
Hastings: I don’t owe UGWC anything. I’ve given it everything I have.
Peterson: Yes, you have. And that’s entirely the point, isn’t it?
Hastings: What do you mean?
Peterson: Those names I mentioned a minute ago, Roberts and Somers and the others...they haven’t always been here. They come. They go. You’ve been here since day one, and you and I both know you’ll be here to turn out the lights when the time comes.
Donovan stares at Owen, but after a moment lowers his head and takes a deep breath, rubbing his forehead before he gently kicks the ground.
Hastings: Make the call.
Johnny: Of COURSE I knew you’d come to your senses eventually. It only makes sense after we won on Synergy IN SPITE OF YOU, that you’d figure out which side you need to butter your bread on. AND AS FAR AS YOUR-
Hastings: Enough.
Johnny and Donovan are alone in Owen’s office.
Hastings: We’re not on a podcast, we’re not being interviewed. There are no cameras here. You don’t need to perform for anyone.
Johnny: Well now I KNOW you have cameras hidden in here, don’t I?
Donovan folds his arms and stares at Johnny.
Johnny: Fine. What do you want?
Hastings: I’m sure you’re aware that Carnage has an insider feeding them information. Someone familiar with our roster is providing them with a game plan, a road map on how to beat us.
Johnny: How DARE you accuse me of such a thing? I’m deeply offended and DEMAND you take it back.
Hastings: No, this is someone that knows what they’re talking about.
Johnny: Well now I’m offended for entirely different reasons.
Hastings: A big part of the reason that I’m the most iconic UGWC Entertainment Professional in history is because my attention has always been fully focused on UGWC. But you, the #1 Hit-Maker, you’ve been around the block. You’re watching everything, looking for talent to vulture and bring into your flock. If anybody around here is going to know the ins and outs of the Carnage team, it’s you.
Johnny: I think you just called me a whore.
Hastings: You know I’m handicapped at Incursion, handcuffed with a disadvantageous team in a match I need to win, facing opponents walking in with cliff notes on what to do. It would be helpful if someone could do the same for us.
Johnny: Fine.
Johnny thinks a moment.
Johnny: Your problem isn’t who these people are. It’s who they AREN’T.
Hastings: What’s that supposed to mean?
Johnny: These aren’t icons of Carnage Wrestling. It’s not Jack Michaels or Maggie Lockheart or Wil Prydor standing across from you. Only one of the group has even been a champion in Carnage. But EACH and EVERY one of them would love to make a name for themselves by pounding the piss out of the 5-Time UGWC World Heavyweight Champion and do what somehow nobody has been able to do yet, which is to shut your damn mouth. They’re hungry in ways I’ve never seen you be since I came here. Maybe there was a time you were, but like I warned you last week, you want to keep riding that whole ‘ding-dang consarn non-UGWCers steppin a-foot on OUR hallowed land’ bullshit, and meanwhile there is an entire legion of people ready to pass you by.
Hastings: Let me make this perfectly clear. I don’t have a problem with a new generation coming to UGWC. I’ve never had a problem with that. Bring everyone in, line them all up. My point is that no one, yesterday, today, or tomorrow, is better than me.
Johnny: Sloane Taylor.
Hastings: I’ve beaten her before.
Johnny: Montague Cervantes. Angie Vaughn.
Hastings: What are you-
Johnny: Hide. Tempest. Centurion. Gabriel Baal.
Hastings: Are you taking attendance?
Johnny: These are all people who have held SINGLES championships THIS YEAR. How long has it been for you? Is it three years or four? And how long since you successfully DEFENDED one? But don’t worry, Donovan. Keep plugging away, and I’m sure the #1 Hit-Maker could find a spot for you.
Donovan clenches both of his fists, and Johnny puts a hand up.
Johnny: No need to summon your thugs. I’ll see myself out.
He strolls towards the door, holding up a picture of Sloane as he goes.
Johnny: Wouldn’t do you any good anyway, I’ve still got plenty of these.
Donovan watches him go before gently kicking the floor and mumbling under his breath.
This year hasn’t gone the way I had planned.
I was supposed to win the Global Challenge, but was undone by chicanery and nonsense. My statement victory at Infinity was marred by the tantrum of a child that took his ball and went home. The Conquest Title, a clear path back to the World Heavyweight Title, ripped out from underneath me. None of it went the way it was drawn up, but then again very little in my career has.
Now I find myself burdened by my latest glorious purpose, leading the way for UGWC against a rabble of the muck that Carnage Wrestling is scraping off its collective boots. As I understand it, we could dub your team the Act of Defiance Also-Rans. Sebastian Hawke loses his title. Dominick Strife blows his chance to win one. The only reason you have a win amongst the whole lot of you is because the Zachs faced each other.
You’re all back on your heels. I get that. I’ve been there. You’re looking for that breakthrough opportunity. Now you come to me with the opportunity to make all of Carnage Wrestling proud. Doubtless great opportunity and reward awaits you all if you could defeat me. You’d likely be granted the championship opportunities of your choosing. Even UGWC would likely lay out the red carpet for you, if the past few years are any indication. They’ll let just about anybody in here these days.
You take a look at the rest of my team, and I’ll allow that it leaves much to be desired. But I’ve overcome greater shackles before. I carried Dave Rydell to a Cooperative Championship. I’ve done the same with others, and have no doubt I could do the same with any among this group. Whatever you think of them, I have no doubts I’ll hear their names long after I’ve forgotten all of yours.
Duncan Ryder had the opportunity to make his name at Infinity. The magnitude of the task was too much for him and he chose instead to walk away. As bitter an aftertaste as his choice left me, I couldn’t help but note a hint of wisdom in his decision. To face me is to find yourself on your knees before your Lord. You all could do yourselves a collective favor and walk away as well, shrink back to Baltimore with your tails between your legs. Spare yourselves the embarrassment that awaits you, and await you it does.
That much is inevitable.
