Post by Centurion on Apr 17, 2021 19:59:10 GMT -5
----------April 13th, 2021----------
(In less than a year, Centurion has gone from being a complete insider – a so called “invader” from the XWF given the opportunity to compete in the UGWC’s yearly multi-federation invitational – to being a champion and a staple of the locker room. That kind of rise would be impressive for a hot shot rookie looking to make a name for themselves. For a 44 year old veteran who was retired from the business for nearly a decade? Well, it’s completely unheard of.
But now, a new chapter in Centurion’s career awaits him. No longer just the “invader” and no longer just the “up and comer”, Centurion has now been placed into a position where he actually has to wrestle for UGWC’s honor. Incursion, the cross branded event between the UGWC and Carnage Wresting, features matches between the champions of the various promotions. Given that Centurion is the Cross-Hemisphere Champion, it means he gets to go one on one with the Baltimore City Champion – Carnage Wrestling’s resident superhero, The Avenger.
In the past, for events like these, Centurion approached them almost unwillingly. He hardly ever cared about federation supremacy, and his pay wasn’t ever increased because of it. Sometimes, he approached them just like any regular week. But this event? Centurion is…strangely excited for it, so much so that he decided to get out of the cold air of Chicago and head to the desert.
We open up inside the Pioneer Saloon in Goodsprings, Nevada. There, we see Centurion sitting at the bar next to his daughter and companion for this particular journey, Nellie. Centurion has a glass of some sort of liquor on ice in front of him, while Nellie has a glass of beer in front of her. The rest of the bar is fairly empty – a lone old man sits on the extreme opposite end of the bar, and a table of three men, who look as if they had just gotten off a golf course, sit at a table. There is also a bartender dipping glasses into a sink behind the bar. The emptiness of the bar comes as no surprise, as it is the middle of the afternoon, and Goodsprings has a population of approximately 230. For Centurion, though, who is used to the sounds of the big city, this might as well be a ghost town.)
Nellie: So, explain to me again what we’re doing out here? I didn’t quite understand it the first four times you told me.
Centurion: Well, I don’t know what YOU’RE doing out here. I didn’t think you’d come along. This really isn’t your speed.
Nellie: I needed to get away. I got pretty tired of hearing angry white men yelling about how the school board is destroying a child’s mind because we waited a full year before we allowed in person classes again. As if they care if a child’s mind is destroyed. In three years, that child is going to read Karl Marx and those same angry dudes will scream about how they were “indoctrinated by the feminazi liberals.”
Centurion: You can’t blame them. We all know reality has liberal bias. The more you open their mind, the more they no longer have to listen to the bullshit spewed by uneducated dolts who think they know anything about the world just because they happened to survive this long.
Nellie: But that’s why I’m doing out here. What are YOU doing out here?
(Centurion swirls his drink around for a bit before taking a sip and setting it back down on the bar.)
Centurion: I wanted to go somewhere where I can focus. Where I can get back to being myself and not have to worry about the distractions of everyday life. The desert of Nevada was where I started my UGWC journey, and it just seems fitting that I would return before this next match. There’s a special…connection I get while I’m here. An attachment to the environment. Maybe it’s because it’s been relatively untouched for over a century, I’m not sure, but this place…it just calls to me.
Nellie: Uh huh…and none of it has anything to do with the fact that this is the starting location in Fallout: New Vegas, which you just happen to have been starting your 8th playthrough of last week.
(Centurion’s eyes grow wide as he looks away from Nellie and takes a sip of his drink.)
Nellie: You’re such a fucking nerd!
Centurion: It’s the first thing I thought of, ok! I knew I wanted to get out of Chicago, and I had “Big Iron” stuck in my head, and one thing lead to another…
Nellie: This sounds like the beginning of a TERRIBLE sex story.
Centurion: I mean, I’ve never fucked to Marty Robbins, but it’s not something I would consider to be a dealbreaker.
Nellie: ALRIGHT!
Centurion: All that other stuff is true, too. I wanted to get back to where it all began. I just…don’t quite remember where that was. Walter and I got lost along the way, and the UGWC doesn’t pay yearly rent on an entire fucking town, so I figured this was the next best thing. Besides, this part of the country is kind of cool, don’t you think?
Nellie: It’s great, but I expected there to be more sand.
Centurion: Yeah, everyone not from here just assumes the desert is sand, but it’s really dirt. Flat dirt. It’s the same way in the Middle East. You watch these movies or cartoons or whatever and they portray the area as filled with sand dunes, but really, it’s just land devoid of vegetation.
Nellie: And we could have admired the dirt and dust from the top of a really fancy casino in Vegas, but noooo…..
Centurion: I didn’t come here to gamble, Nell Bell. I didn’t come to galivant around like I normally do. I came here to focus. This is a big match for me.
Nellie: Yeah, and you haven’t exactly explained WHY it’s a big match for you. You were never like this before. You had World Title match and championship defenses, and in most of those, you just sort of sat around, lying in the sun, flirting with Ruby.
(Centurion does a slight nod as he takes another sip of his drink.)
Centurion: It’s true. Which is partially why I didn’t want to invite Ruby to come along this week. When we get together, I just can’t keep my hands off her, you know? And we never get ANY sleep, what with all the ban…
Nellie: Dad, if you want me to keep any semblance of what remains of my sanity, you’ll not only not finish that sentence, but you’ll never discuss such things in my presence ever again.
Centurion: I can do the first. Can’t promise the second. Anyway, I needed this week to be about me. I’m not just wrestling to add another win to my record. I’m essentially defending my legacy in front of a brand new audience. These Carnage fuckers…
Nellie: Dad, you barely know them. Don’t call them fuckers.
Centurion: Fine. These Carnage assholes have never seen me in the ring before. If they know me at all, it’s either in passing, or it’s through Twitter. And I don’t want to be Chet Dakota. I want to be known as more than just “the Twitter guy”. So I need this.
Nellie: You don’t NEED this. You WANT this. Which is two very different things.
Centurion: I know the difference, Nell, but I promise you…this is a need. I don’t have to defend my legacy in the XWF. That’s already sealed. The UGWC is now beginning to know who I am and what I am capable of. But I want this to be global. I want wrestlers from every corner of the world to know who the hell I am. You know how weird it was to debut in UGWC and get so many people sitting on their hands because they didn’t know who I was? People don’t have to like me, but I do want them to know me. I didn’t break my body for two decades just so people can say “who?” when my name is announced.
Nellie: What you’re asking for is impossible. There are people out there who have had very long careers, racking up numerous World Titles and breaking all sorts of records, and you don’t know who they are. You’re never going to be able to reach everyone. You can only reach the people who are looking in your direction.
Centurion: Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. Legends expanding their brand and dominating elsewhere has become the new cool thing to do. Warstein’s doing it. Raven’s doing it. I want a slice of that pie, as well.
(Nellie glances over at her father and takes a sip of her beer. She wipes her mouth and puts the glass back down on the bar before she readjusts her barstool to face Centurion properly.)
Nellie: Ok…well, if that’s the case, then you need to go in prepared. We need to get back to the room and start ordering Carnage pay per views. We need to see what you’re up against. If you’re going to do this, then we’re going to do it right.
(Nellie drinks the rest of her beer and places the glass back on the bar before the camera fades to black.)
------For The Stranger There Among Them Had A Big Iron On His Hip------
-----------April 16th, 2021----------
(We open up inside a Dollar General store just outside of Goodsprings, Nevada. The places is relatively empty, save for a couple of employees chatting about at the cash registers. In one of the aisles is Centurion, holding a shopping basket. The camera zooms to him, and he speaks directly into it.)
Centurion: In the US Constitution, it is mandated that every area that has a zip code must also have a post office. I believe this might be true of Dollar General’s, too. Seriously, travel anywhere in the country, and you won’t be far from one of these stores. And they are all pretty much the same, too. The aisles are set up in exactly the same way. They all have more things in there than are actually needed. And they all could use about another 200 square feet of space in order to make sure you’re not running into old ladies looking to purchase terrible perfume.
But I’m not here to talk shit on bargain stores. There is a reason they exist, and talking them down would be a bit…elitist of me, wouldn’t it? Besides, I’m the kind of person who has millions of dollars and still orders McDonalds. So I don’t want to be mistaken as being some sort of snob.
(Before Centurion starts his next sentence, he stops in the middle of the aisle. He looks over to his right, and sees the section of Dollar Store brand cookies. He grabs one container of Fudge Stripes and tosses them into his basket. He goes to take another step, but before he does, he grabs two more containers of cookies and tosses them into the basket, as well.)
Centurion: I’m shameless, alright? What do you want from me?!
Anywhere, there is a place for dollar stores, just like there is a place for expensive, fancy stores. They all have their purpose in the world. It wouldn’t be right to say that Dollar General’s Fudge Stripes is “stealing” from Keibler. It’s just different. It’s cheaper. It’s not as good, but it’s fine. We have that same situation in professional wrestling right now.
Avenger…you are the Dollar General version of Ruby.
Did you “steal” a gimmick? No, of course not. There have been multiple superhero wrestlers to exist within the fabric of all space and time, and pointing to one of them as the true “owner” of the cape and mask combination would be impossible. But this isn’t about who was first. It’s about who is BEST.
I understand I am coming at this with a little bit of bias. After all, I’m not fucking Avenger…at least, I don’t think I am. Call me after a few martini’s and we’ll talk. So naturally I’m going to think Ruby is great and perfect at everything she does. But it isn’t just me who thinks that…it’s a LOT of people. See, this professional wrestling thing…it’s all just a side gig for Ruby. She can take it or leave it. Her true calling is to catch and beat up bad guys. It’s what she loves to do. And before you say “but Andy, if she wants to catch bad guys, why doesn’t she become a cop?”, it’s because she doesn’t have that ingrained racism needed to be a cop in the United States.
You, Avenger? Avey? Avs…can I call you Avs? You, Avs, do what you do in order to get noticed. You like the notoriety. You know that the whole “Marvel” thing is in vogue right now, and you decided to run with it. And I’ll be honest, it’s pretty convincing. If people didn’t know you any better, they’d think you were a real, honest to goodness superhero, out there fighting crime for the good of humanity and bringing criminals to justice!
…too bad the entire thing is steeped in bullshit.
You’re a fraud, Avs. You’re nothing more than a really self-marketer. “What’s the best way to make money in professional wrestling? Oh, I know! Sell a bunch of shitty masks and shirts! The kids will eat it all up!” And it’s worked, hasn’t it? Put on a cape and a smile, and everyone buys it. But I know people like you, Avenger…in fact, I’m not going to call you Avenger anymore. It doesn’t really suit you. I’m going to call you Steve.
But I know people like you, Steve. You go out there, get your pictures taken, get a bunch of videos put on the internet…and then to take off the mask, roll around in your money, and throw a middle finger out the window, because you’re not a superhero. Hell, you’re not even a good person. You’re the sketchbook creation of an indie wrestler who couldn’t get signed for five years and needed something to send energy into your career.
What’s funny is, I know EXACTLY how this ends, too. You’re going to go on a losing streak. I know, I know, you’re undefeated this year, but trust me – losing streaks happen. They happen to everyone. There isn’t a single wrestler who hasn’t been through one. And it is in that very gully that you’ll rip the mask off and become “evil”. You’ll denounce your old costume and your old ways and you’re going to become “the real you” – The Real Steve, or whatever – and you’ll be this bitter man. And it will work…for a bit. But even while you win, your bank account suffers, and you’ll toss the mask back on because selling t-shirts means a hell of a lot more than winning wrestling matches.
Am I in the ballpark, Steve? Any of this sound familiar? It’s ok, you don’t have to answer out loud. You’re not there yet. You have the winning streak, and the belt, and everything is going all right, so there’s no need to blow your cover now, but you also know that I’m right, and that pisses you off.
That’s one of the major differences between you and I, Steve. What you see is what you get when it comes to me. I don’t need to hide behind anything. A lot of people will tell you that I am “boring”. That’s because I’m a real dude. A real dude with LOTS of money, but a real dude nonetheless. And in professional wrestling, that is rare.
Now, I’ve shit talked your personality. You’ll notice I haven’t mentioned your in ring abilities yet. That’s because, quite frankly…I don’t know. I have no idea if you’re any good or not. Sure, you’re the Baltimore City Champion, but I don’t know if that’s because you’re good, or if it’s because the rest of Carnage sucks. I’ve watched a few matches, but again, that doesn’t really tell the whole story. You could be dogshit. You could be among the worst wrestlers to ever hold a championship in professional wrestling. You could be so terrible that people literally vomit the moment you attempt wrestling moves….orrr…
…you could be good. You could be great. Hell, you could be SPECTACULAR, and I could be in for the fight of my life. How exciting would that be? If you turn out to be a world class superstar, we could tear that house down Monday night, so much so that Hide and What’s His Face will be crying about how lackluster their match was in comparison. Honestly, that is what I am hoping for, Steve. I hope I piss you off so much that you find that extra spark in your body that makes you evolve into a version of you that has never existed before. I hope you are the best wrestler in Carnage, and just by insulting your cape and your mask, you end up becoming among the greatest wrestlers of all time. That would be absolutely splendid.
But I’m going to go out on a limb and say that’s not you. I don’t think you’re complete shit, but I don’t think you’re the greatest thing to step into the ring, either. You sit somewhere in the middle. Where, exactly? That I’ll have to find out on my own, now won’t I?
But here is your problem, Steve. I’m preparing for this match as if you ARE one of the best in the world. I’m going into this match as if I was facing Sloane Taylor or Shawn Warstein or Sebastian Everett Carstairs Paramore McNealy Snorlax XIX, and that’s going to be a problem for you, because if you AREN’T any of those people, then you don’t stand a chance. If you’re amazing, then we will have an all time historic match. If you’re just decent, I’ll beat you in 15 minutes. If you’re terrible, you won’t last 30 seconds. So ask yourself, Steve…where do you think you stand on that scale? Do you think you’re great? You better, because if you have even a sliver of self-doubt, I will exploit it for all it’s worth.
The fact is, Steve, this match was decided when it was announced. Carnage knew what they were doing. No one on the roster was going to beat me, so they decided to toss you to me. That way, it frees up some of the better wrestlers to walk away with some victories, and maybe give Carnage the overall victory at the end of the night. And where will that leave you when it’s all done? All the doubts that are already creeping into your head just amplified by suffering your first loss of the year.
You’re not the best superhero in professional wrestling – Ruby is.
You’re not the best wrestler in the world – James Raven is.
You’re not the best champion competing at Incursion – I am.
Which means all you are is just another decent wrestler who won’t get over that next hurdle, and who, just like so many others before you, will meet your…
FINAL FANTASY!!!
