LivingLegendAmp
League Member
Fast forward to a home like any other. Family pictures hang on the walls, and on the television is a rerun of some sitcom that no one cares about. On the stove sits a dinner that has been prepared. Maybe a chicken casserole or even some sort of "Meal in a box" prepared using meat biproducts. It remains untouched, as if something else has become more of a priority than feeding a family. And it has... For the person who has spent the time making this food has received a call about their loved one, and were told something that they never want to hear from the voice on the other end. The voice that tells them their loved one received multiple injuries while competing in the event called BattleMania. The voice that tells them that they need to come to the hospital to fill out the necessary forms, as their significant other cannot lift their hand to write, let alone grasp a pen.
It's a scene that echoes around the world... The faces change, but the scenario remains constant. Because on this night, one man has caused more destruction during one contest than any normal wrestling fan could fathom. One man not only declared what he would do in this match of epic proportions, but he backed up every single promise that he made with a purpose. The opportunity to show the wrestling world another level of sin and debauchery was a chance too golden to let slip by. This one man not only promised to walk out of BattleMania as it's winner, but to leave a trail of bodies either lying at ringside, or hauled out of the arena by the local paramedics.
It was all predictions that would come true.
This man may accomplish his goals through unconventional methods... While some professional wrestlers would use a steel folding chair or a wooden table as their weapon of choice, this man fills a tube sock with metal casino chips. It has become a weapon that not only bruises and batters with every sickening shot, but that has also left many former foes bloody and beaten while the man wielding it only laughs hysterically at unleashing his teachings of respect. Men, women, and even his own family... No one has been safe from what has been branded the "Weapon of Cash Destruction."
So now, we have people of the world in one medical facility, sitting beside those that they call family that competed in this spectacular known as BattleMania. They wonder just how devestating the impending news from the doctors on duty will be, as they ask themselves so many questions in their head. Just how catastrophic will the diagnosis be from the physician on duty? How is this going to affect my day to day life? Will I have to quit my job to become an in-home caretaker?
And one question keeps repeating in all of their heads, like a scratched record playing the same verse over and over again...
Who would do this to someone, and why?
The answer to that question is the individual who won BattleMania, leaving that trail of destruction in his wake. That same individual who earned a victory on a national level, in the name of a little promotion in Atlantic City... The man who is known as "The Living Legend." The man who calls himself... Amp.
It's a scene that echoes around the world... The faces change, but the scenario remains constant. Because on this night, one man has caused more destruction during one contest than any normal wrestling fan could fathom. One man not only declared what he would do in this match of epic proportions, but he backed up every single promise that he made with a purpose. The opportunity to show the wrestling world another level of sin and debauchery was a chance too golden to let slip by. This one man not only promised to walk out of BattleMania as it's winner, but to leave a trail of bodies either lying at ringside, or hauled out of the arena by the local paramedics.
It was all predictions that would come true.
This man may accomplish his goals through unconventional methods... While some professional wrestlers would use a steel folding chair or a wooden table as their weapon of choice, this man fills a tube sock with metal casino chips. It has become a weapon that not only bruises and batters with every sickening shot, but that has also left many former foes bloody and beaten while the man wielding it only laughs hysterically at unleashing his teachings of respect. Men, women, and even his own family... No one has been safe from what has been branded the "Weapon of Cash Destruction."
So now, we have people of the world in one medical facility, sitting beside those that they call family that competed in this spectacular known as BattleMania. They wonder just how devestating the impending news from the doctors on duty will be, as they ask themselves so many questions in their head. Just how catastrophic will the diagnosis be from the physician on duty? How is this going to affect my day to day life? Will I have to quit my job to become an in-home caretaker?
And one question keeps repeating in all of their heads, like a scratched record playing the same verse over and over again...
Who would do this to someone, and why?
The answer to that question is the individual who won BattleMania, leaving that trail of destruction in his wake. That same individual who earned a victory on a national level, in the name of a little promotion in Atlantic City... The man who is known as "The Living Legend." The man who calls himself... Amp.
=================================================================================
Many people have asked me just why I have agreed to participate in BattleMania. They come to me with questions like "Haven't you done it all?" and "What motivated you to sign up for the match?" And then of course, I ask myself questions like, "Doesn't Amber Ryan have a sweet looking pooper?" As we all know, those answers are only known to myself. And in fact, I have done it all in the wrestling business. I know that is going to be something that a lot of my opponents claim as well when it comes to their career history, but you cannot argue with that fact when you look back at my title reigns and Hall of Fame inductions. I had never imagined that when I started wrestling back in 1998 that I would even still be here today as one of the most hated individuals in this sport. Back in those days, I was too concerned with getting the fans to like me, and having my likeness on merchandise so that I could make a few extra bucks on the side in royalties. Thankfully, I wisened up not long into my career and realized that if I truly wanted anything in this business, I need not worry about how loud the crowd cheers for me when my theme music plays in an arena, but rather who can I corrupt today to get me closer to my goal? By looking out for myself and not others, my new attitude started paying off in dividends, as I slowly amassed title reigns and main event matches. It seemed like everyone was lining up just to have a shot at "The Living Legend," and one by one, I sent them all packing.
Which brings me to my next answer to the questions... Why sign up for BattleMania? Once the other twenty nine individuals in this match learned that I was involved, they all knew in the back of their mind that if they wanted to make an impact in this match, win or lose... They needed to take me out. So instead of lining them up one by one, this atmosphere provides much more of a challenge. Let them all come at me at once, and be shown just why my nickname isn't something I coined to sell t-shirts, but rather something that was given to me out of respect. Let them all think that they have a chance to eliminate one of the most talked about wrestlers in this match, as they all try to lift me over the top rope and drop me on the ringside floor. They all think that they have a chance at glory going into BattleMania, that they can be the one who eliminated the loudmouth Amp, and gain some much needed momentum in their own careers. So watch as every single piece of shit who even looks at me funny gets pitched over that top rope and on their asses, while I laugh at every single one I eliminate. Imagine my hysterics when I stand alone at the end of this little shindig in the ring, and the referee is raising my arm in victory. All of the fans will be booing and screaming at me, wishing that they were in peak physical condition like myself, instead of "mid-level World of Warcraft player" shape, so that they could step into that ring and take a shot at me themselves. I will find it so fucking funny, that if one could actually die laughing, I would keel over right there, a happy man.
Oh, and to answer that last question, Amber's ass looks delicious. If given the opportunity, I am going to smack the shit out of it. Twice.
Respect is a word so loosely thrown around in this business, that it is almost meaningless. Who truly deserves my respect in this match? Not a whole hell of a lot, that is for sure. In an atmosphere like BattleMania, alliances are short lived, as there can only be one winner. You have to always watch your back, because the person that just assisted you with throwing out an opponent, could try and do the same thing to you only seconds later. When we talk about respect, that is a felling that I don't pass out to individuals very easily. Sure, I do have some sort of respect for a few individuals in this match, but there are a few others that are merely nothing to me, especially those who just couldn't cut it in the ranks of Boardwalk Wrestling. When you walk away from the hottest independent promotion in the country to go curtain jerk for a promotion that no one has ever heard of, just so you can win a title belt that was paid for with barcodes from Cracker Jack boxes and five bucks for shipping charges, then that says a lot about your actual wrestling ability. It's fucking non-existant. And scanning the list of individuals in BattleMania, those "wrestlers" know exactly who they are.
These are the types of people that I hope I encounter in BattleMania. I want to humiliate all of you and show you what a real wrestler can do in the squared circle, so you can run back to your "Mom and Pop Wrestling Federation," and tell all of the night and weekend wrestlers who have clocked in for their second job all about encountering greatness at BattleMania, in the form of "The Living Legend." Hell, half of the competitors in this match... And I use the word competitors loosely... Could only dream about accomplishing the things I have in this business, and about having the skills that I possess. They throw their name in the hat for events like this just hoping that the right agent will recognize them and offer a contract, not realizing that after countless attempts, that they should have given up on that long ago. They have the prayer that some fan out there will remember their name and maybe upload some clips of their spots in the match to some online forum, but it is kind of hard for a fan to do so when your best spot in the match is landing on your ass outside of the ring, or being on the receiving end of someone's finishing move. It's people like that who should be put on suicide watch because they're only hurting themselves.
And so for that half of the competitors who have agreed to participate in BattleMania, and that will be in the arena that night, nervously awaiting their number to be called as the next entrant into the match... Do yourself and all of us a favor. Don't even walk down the aisle. Book yourself a plane ticket and fly back home to save yourself the embarassment and agony of defeat. Why become an example that not only I will laugh and poke fun at, but the fans as well. Those very same fans that will forget your name by the time the actual match is even over, except for the small group of slack-jawed yokels that you brought with you, decked out in sweatpants, fanny packs and t-shirts that have your name written on them with a black marker. Misspelled, of course. But by some chance, if any of you work up the nerve to actually walk down the aisle, and you make it into the ring without pissing yourself in nervousness to face me, then heed my warning. This is BattleMania, and the rules are... There are no rules. Just throw each and every son of a bitch you can over that top rope until you are the last one standing. That even means that if I feel like bringing my "Weapon of Cash Destruction" into the ring with me... And trust me, I will... I will unleash a fury of pain and torture upon you that will cause you to flash back to your childhood when daddy sucked down too much swill and took the frustrations of his meaningless life out on your ass. You will all beg me for mercy once I begin to attack, and I will not let up until I see red. Because all though someone more accustomed to a high flying offense is all but grounded in a battle royal... It always helps to bring an equalizer.
Look into these eyes, and you will see an example of the type of man that your mother warned you about. All throughout childhood, little boys are told not to emulate people like me, for then they grow up to be what some would call a shame to their families by their actions. Little girls are told that men like me are undesirable, for their parents fear that if they were ever to fornicate with the likes of me, they would be addicted to the pleasures I can provide them. They were all told told that if they were to see me walking in their direction, to turn and walk away. If they were ever to hear the words that I spoke, to ignore them and think positive thoughts instead of laugh at anything I might say. But the one thing that parents didn't warn their children about, is that they can't keep them hidden away from the likes of me for their entire lives. Soon, they would have to make those decisions on their own. When you are exposed to various forms of media like music, movies and television, people like me are everywhere. People who not only tell you to reject authority and to buck the system... But who also live their lives by setting an example for others to replicate.
I'm the kind of guys who would start a riot in a school, just because some principal who was laughed at for being a member of the chess club would try and establish some rule by making uniforms a policy. I'm the kind of guy who would gather a pack of individuals such as myself, and run wild in a town or city just because we woke up one day and decided that we had less to do than your average house dog. I'm the son of a bitch that would tie up a woman and cause her body to shake like an epileptic doing the Electric Slide, just by abusing her during intercourse. That's what women like these days anyways, right? If not, your average overweight divorcee wouldn't be lining up outside of a movie theater to watch 50 Shades of Shit, while her purse is stuffed with Gobstoppers and cheeseburgers. As you can see, I'm also the voice that tells it like it is. I'm not afraid to look at you and tell you your faults, even those that you haven't even discovered. I can verbally break you to the edge of insanity, which pays dividends for me when my opponents are too damn self conscious to even concentrate on the match thanks to my revelations about them. I will attack first, and save the questions for the authorities, as I don't have time for the "who, what, when or why's" that comes along with upholding one's reputation. If you cross me, then you had better believe that you will be dealt with in a swift manner.
For anyone who doubts what I am capable of, then I will direct you to watch matches from my past, and how I have no regard for the physical well being of my opponents. I have not a care in the world, as I am a man that has been arrested more times than I can count. I damn near made the national news when not long after moving to Atlantic CIty, I got drunk and beat up a hooker. After what I did to her sexually before that, she should have pressed charges for that instead. When my own daughter forsake my last name and let a family of fuckwads raise her instead... And then had the nerve to try and confront me in a wrestling ring as an adult... I literally whipped her so hard from head to toe that she was unrecognizable. All in the name of respect. Silly little bitches like this tried spouting off about "The Living Legend," thinking that there would be no consequences to their actions. Every single one of those same bitches learned otherwise, when I put them in their places. Hell, my own brother owns Boardwalk Wrestling, and keeps trying to ship me off to other promotions because he is tired of bailing me out of jail. It's a shame that my actions make him so much money, as so many fans continue to tune into the Boardwalk programs, wondering what I will do next.
I've watched what promos have already aired for this event, and minus only a couple, none of them kept my attention. I see your mouths moving, but the words are not registering in my mind. All I can hear each of you saying is, "Amp is going to destroy me if given the opportunity," because all I can envision is the truth. Sure, a few of you have spoken my name in passing thoughts, likely because you have no idea just what you are about to get yourselves into. But it's always so easy to run your mouth when I'm not standing toe to toe with you. Let's see just how many of you start flapping your cock beaters when I'm in the ring with you at BattleMania. There's an old saying of "You can't be something that you're not," and right now, I'm not impressed. Nor will I be by any of you. Because to me right now, I'm going into this thinking that I have twenty nine opponents to defeat in this match, and to teach a lesson in respect. I'm not going to win BattleMania for Boardwalk Wrestling... No, I am winning this for myself. To prove that I am still the greatest, and I always will be, and that all of you are nowhere near my level. And at the end of the night, you will all be made into an example at the hands of "The Living Legend," and you will each walk away, dejected and embarassed, with a new level of respect for me. Remember the name Amp, because it will be announced as the winner at the end of the night. And always remember, that I am very, VERY difficult to fuck with!"
Which brings me to my next answer to the questions... Why sign up for BattleMania? Once the other twenty nine individuals in this match learned that I was involved, they all knew in the back of their mind that if they wanted to make an impact in this match, win or lose... They needed to take me out. So instead of lining them up one by one, this atmosphere provides much more of a challenge. Let them all come at me at once, and be shown just why my nickname isn't something I coined to sell t-shirts, but rather something that was given to me out of respect. Let them all think that they have a chance to eliminate one of the most talked about wrestlers in this match, as they all try to lift me over the top rope and drop me on the ringside floor. They all think that they have a chance at glory going into BattleMania, that they can be the one who eliminated the loudmouth Amp, and gain some much needed momentum in their own careers. So watch as every single piece of shit who even looks at me funny gets pitched over that top rope and on their asses, while I laugh at every single one I eliminate. Imagine my hysterics when I stand alone at the end of this little shindig in the ring, and the referee is raising my arm in victory. All of the fans will be booing and screaming at me, wishing that they were in peak physical condition like myself, instead of "mid-level World of Warcraft player" shape, so that they could step into that ring and take a shot at me themselves. I will find it so fucking funny, that if one could actually die laughing, I would keel over right there, a happy man.
Oh, and to answer that last question, Amber's ass looks delicious. If given the opportunity, I am going to smack the shit out of it. Twice.
Respect is a word so loosely thrown around in this business, that it is almost meaningless. Who truly deserves my respect in this match? Not a whole hell of a lot, that is for sure. In an atmosphere like BattleMania, alliances are short lived, as there can only be one winner. You have to always watch your back, because the person that just assisted you with throwing out an opponent, could try and do the same thing to you only seconds later. When we talk about respect, that is a felling that I don't pass out to individuals very easily. Sure, I do have some sort of respect for a few individuals in this match, but there are a few others that are merely nothing to me, especially those who just couldn't cut it in the ranks of Boardwalk Wrestling. When you walk away from the hottest independent promotion in the country to go curtain jerk for a promotion that no one has ever heard of, just so you can win a title belt that was paid for with barcodes from Cracker Jack boxes and five bucks for shipping charges, then that says a lot about your actual wrestling ability. It's fucking non-existant. And scanning the list of individuals in BattleMania, those "wrestlers" know exactly who they are.
These are the types of people that I hope I encounter in BattleMania. I want to humiliate all of you and show you what a real wrestler can do in the squared circle, so you can run back to your "Mom and Pop Wrestling Federation," and tell all of the night and weekend wrestlers who have clocked in for their second job all about encountering greatness at BattleMania, in the form of "The Living Legend." Hell, half of the competitors in this match... And I use the word competitors loosely... Could only dream about accomplishing the things I have in this business, and about having the skills that I possess. They throw their name in the hat for events like this just hoping that the right agent will recognize them and offer a contract, not realizing that after countless attempts, that they should have given up on that long ago. They have the prayer that some fan out there will remember their name and maybe upload some clips of their spots in the match to some online forum, but it is kind of hard for a fan to do so when your best spot in the match is landing on your ass outside of the ring, or being on the receiving end of someone's finishing move. It's people like that who should be put on suicide watch because they're only hurting themselves.
And so for that half of the competitors who have agreed to participate in BattleMania, and that will be in the arena that night, nervously awaiting their number to be called as the next entrant into the match... Do yourself and all of us a favor. Don't even walk down the aisle. Book yourself a plane ticket and fly back home to save yourself the embarassment and agony of defeat. Why become an example that not only I will laugh and poke fun at, but the fans as well. Those very same fans that will forget your name by the time the actual match is even over, except for the small group of slack-jawed yokels that you brought with you, decked out in sweatpants, fanny packs and t-shirts that have your name written on them with a black marker. Misspelled, of course. But by some chance, if any of you work up the nerve to actually walk down the aisle, and you make it into the ring without pissing yourself in nervousness to face me, then heed my warning. This is BattleMania, and the rules are... There are no rules. Just throw each and every son of a bitch you can over that top rope until you are the last one standing. That even means that if I feel like bringing my "Weapon of Cash Destruction" into the ring with me... And trust me, I will... I will unleash a fury of pain and torture upon you that will cause you to flash back to your childhood when daddy sucked down too much swill and took the frustrations of his meaningless life out on your ass. You will all beg me for mercy once I begin to attack, and I will not let up until I see red. Because all though someone more accustomed to a high flying offense is all but grounded in a battle royal... It always helps to bring an equalizer.
Look into these eyes, and you will see an example of the type of man that your mother warned you about. All throughout childhood, little boys are told not to emulate people like me, for then they grow up to be what some would call a shame to their families by their actions. Little girls are told that men like me are undesirable, for their parents fear that if they were ever to fornicate with the likes of me, they would be addicted to the pleasures I can provide them. They were all told told that if they were to see me walking in their direction, to turn and walk away. If they were ever to hear the words that I spoke, to ignore them and think positive thoughts instead of laugh at anything I might say. But the one thing that parents didn't warn their children about, is that they can't keep them hidden away from the likes of me for their entire lives. Soon, they would have to make those decisions on their own. When you are exposed to various forms of media like music, movies and television, people like me are everywhere. People who not only tell you to reject authority and to buck the system... But who also live their lives by setting an example for others to replicate.
I'm the kind of guys who would start a riot in a school, just because some principal who was laughed at for being a member of the chess club would try and establish some rule by making uniforms a policy. I'm the kind of guy who would gather a pack of individuals such as myself, and run wild in a town or city just because we woke up one day and decided that we had less to do than your average house dog. I'm the son of a bitch that would tie up a woman and cause her body to shake like an epileptic doing the Electric Slide, just by abusing her during intercourse. That's what women like these days anyways, right? If not, your average overweight divorcee wouldn't be lining up outside of a movie theater to watch 50 Shades of Shit, while her purse is stuffed with Gobstoppers and cheeseburgers. As you can see, I'm also the voice that tells it like it is. I'm not afraid to look at you and tell you your faults, even those that you haven't even discovered. I can verbally break you to the edge of insanity, which pays dividends for me when my opponents are too damn self conscious to even concentrate on the match thanks to my revelations about them. I will attack first, and save the questions for the authorities, as I don't have time for the "who, what, when or why's" that comes along with upholding one's reputation. If you cross me, then you had better believe that you will be dealt with in a swift manner.
For anyone who doubts what I am capable of, then I will direct you to watch matches from my past, and how I have no regard for the physical well being of my opponents. I have not a care in the world, as I am a man that has been arrested more times than I can count. I damn near made the national news when not long after moving to Atlantic CIty, I got drunk and beat up a hooker. After what I did to her sexually before that, she should have pressed charges for that instead. When my own daughter forsake my last name and let a family of fuckwads raise her instead... And then had the nerve to try and confront me in a wrestling ring as an adult... I literally whipped her so hard from head to toe that she was unrecognizable. All in the name of respect. Silly little bitches like this tried spouting off about "The Living Legend," thinking that there would be no consequences to their actions. Every single one of those same bitches learned otherwise, when I put them in their places. Hell, my own brother owns Boardwalk Wrestling, and keeps trying to ship me off to other promotions because he is tired of bailing me out of jail. It's a shame that my actions make him so much money, as so many fans continue to tune into the Boardwalk programs, wondering what I will do next.
I've watched what promos have already aired for this event, and minus only a couple, none of them kept my attention. I see your mouths moving, but the words are not registering in my mind. All I can hear each of you saying is, "Amp is going to destroy me if given the opportunity," because all I can envision is the truth. Sure, a few of you have spoken my name in passing thoughts, likely because you have no idea just what you are about to get yourselves into. But it's always so easy to run your mouth when I'm not standing toe to toe with you. Let's see just how many of you start flapping your cock beaters when I'm in the ring with you at BattleMania. There's an old saying of "You can't be something that you're not," and right now, I'm not impressed. Nor will I be by any of you. Because to me right now, I'm going into this thinking that I have twenty nine opponents to defeat in this match, and to teach a lesson in respect. I'm not going to win BattleMania for Boardwalk Wrestling... No, I am winning this for myself. To prove that I am still the greatest, and I always will be, and that all of you are nowhere near my level. And at the end of the night, you will all be made into an example at the hands of "The Living Legend," and you will each walk away, dejected and embarassed, with a new level of respect for me. Remember the name Amp, because it will be announced as the winner at the end of the night. And always remember, that I am very, VERY difficult to fuck with!"