Villain

A wandering silence took hold of the Cliffside as the wind swirled manically. The ocean below chomped at the rocks that guarded the hillside before diving backwards once more. A solitary figure stared out at the vast blue stretch of water with a sense of nostalgia; after all, the past was all he had left.

Knocking a stray strand of hair out of his eye line, he huffed with the air of man resigned to his fate. He knew the inevitable would now claim him. He had done what he set out to do.

He had proved himself to be the best.

“I don’t have anything more to give to the world,” he announced, sounding quite content with his words. “This is the end, my friends.”

A brooding thunderstorm loomed overhead as a bolt of lightning crashed against the rocky, mountainous terrain authoritatively. His thoughts meandered to happy memories from yesteryear; the image of Cesar Champion and Georgina greeted him with open arms. However, he knew that he had to move forward... literally.

Pacing towards the cliff edge, he hovered over the canyon and peered down with a sense of fulfilment. The time had come. After years of enduring battle after battle, it seemed fitting that Champion would die alongside his beloved NLCW.

It had been written in the stars. It was simply meant to be.

“We’re not here for a long time... we’re here for a good time.”

No other words needed to be spoken. He knew as much.

Though people all around the world mourned for the loss of the great Rick Majors, the untimely demise of Chris Champion would be welcomed by a good proportion of the wrestling community. At times, the wily Brit had been labelled as too much of a playboy for the sport. There was an element of truth in it, of course, but in all honesty, nobody had ever done as much for the sport of professional wrestling as the charismatic flag bearer of No Limits Championship Wrestling.

For every boring, bog standard Rick Majors promotional speech at Avulsion tapings, Champion had dozens of idiotic sketches that had seen him do a variety of wonderful things: he’d ridden goats, smeared dog shit over locker rooms and even been involved with an unforgettable cross dressing moment. The general public would never acknowledge his genius of his creativity due to his uncontrollable mood swings, habit of domestic violence and all round drunken stupor, but... like him or not, he was always the guy that strived to offer that little hint of magic to the crowd with each passing show.

“Farewell, cruel world,” he nodded, saluting the horizon for the final time.

And with that... he fell to his knees.

The poison that had rotted his insides for so long finally took hold of his body and paralysed him. He tried to force his legs forwards so that he would be able to enjoy the sweet touch of water upon his skin for the final time, but he simply couldn’t. He clutched at his throat as projectile vomit spewed all over the rocks and down the mountain side. Rolling over onto his side, he peered up towards the Heavens as the clouds parted, almost inviting him in.

Suddenly, a titanic gust of wind took him over the edge and sent him into free fall down the cliff side.

Amongst the paralysis, he managed one final grin of fulfilment as he plunged through the surface of the waves below and into the water. With eyes that longed to return to the past, he faded into unconsciousness and died knowing that his life story would be revered as one of the greatest ever...

Even in death, his ego continued to work overtime.

“Goodbye, Daddy,” announced the sombre voice of Cesar Champion from afar. “You are forever in my heart.”

... and everyone else’s too, Cesar, for both better and worse.

The entire world had witnessed the demise of three very different things at Slamfest...