WRESTLEVERSE IV: EPW INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE: Michael Bastard (c) vs. Impulse

[DBrunkGXW]

For the EPW Intercontinental Title.

Post all RP here.

 

[User Poets]

Five.

"She was always good for nothing when the good broke bad.
All she's got to lose is everything she never had.
Every back turned to her."
- The Birthday Massacre
​

(FADEIN...

"Homemade baked goods! Nothing but the freshest ingredients!"

"Ice cream! Handmade!"

"Good morning, interest you in some earrings for your lady?"

We're walking through the Farmers' Curb Market, in lovely Greensboro, North Carolina. It's an old trick that the last of my mentors gave me... any time you go anywhere, at least for the first time, get there a day or two (at least) early and see the sights. Treat your time in this business like a paid vacation and educate your brain on what happens away from home.

Greensboro is, ironically, the most significant city to my Tribe's history next to New York and Los Angeles, and it's one of the places I've never had any real reason to visit.

Until now.

Lights, camera...)

"The Colossals."

"The Heirs of Wrestling, Steven Shane, and Stalker."

"Copycat."

"Erik Black, the Dopesmoker."

"To date, no one opponent has been able to stop me."

The Heirs, Stalker, and Shane certainly did. Together. But that's my point.

"Including the number one contender to the Empire Pro World Heavyweight Championship."

"Therefore, it doesn't surprise me that my fourth match in the Empire was for a title shot, and it doesn't surprise me that I won, thus making my fifth match with this company for the Intercontinental Championship."

I'm never surprised by anything I do, but that only gets the door open.

Now, I have to walk through it.

"The difference is that Michael Bastard isn't just any ol' bum off the street."

Not that any of my opponents have been.

"The difference is that Michael Bastard is the Intercontinental Champion."

Copycat might be the Number One Contender, but all that means is that he's got the right to step into Anarky's ring. He still needs to prove he belongs in it.

The Heirs of Wrestling owned the World Tag Team Championship, but not after the match was over.

"I have no illusions over how hard fought this match is going to be. Not only am I the challenger - thus the only thing I've proven is that I've got the right to step into Michael's ring - but I'm still a rookie here in the Empire."

"I'm still in the process of proving I belong here, let alone in Michael Bastard's ring."

But I think I'm doing pretty well on that front, so far.

"A victory over Michael Bastard would take care of a lot of questions in one fell swoop. Of course, I'm not that arrogant."

I am that good, however.

"I think The Amazing Logan has done a fine job prepping Michael for this matches so far... but the same old tactics will not work here, Mr. Logan."

Or can I call you The?

"Michael has done well so far as the Wrestler that My Favorite Wrestler is Afraid of, but what happens when the irresistible force meets the immovable object?"

Just call me Rube Foster, Mr. Logan... because I fear nobody.

"Gettin' exciting, isn't it?"

"It's Michael Bastard's ring."

For now.

"We'll see if he's got the ability to keep it."

​FADE
​

​

 

[User Poets]

And now for something completely different

(So RK has been in Greensboro for three days now, seeing the sights, talking to Dan Ryan and the other front office guys over promotion for Wrestleverse in general and his match with Michael Bastard in particular: it's a tightrope walk, apparently, making himself available without trying to take anything over since it's not his place - at least not yet - and getting ready to wrestle in front of millions of people on pay per view.

Lennon Muphy's song would've been apropos - 'Where do I fit in, where's my place here?'

But that's part of the story. And to relieve some of my boredom, I took a train home and picked up some shifts at the bar.

You'd be surprised, working twelve hours at a clip on your feet is a lot less annoying when you don't have to.)

"So let me get this straight," said Valerie, as she leaned against the bar, "You're in Greensboro, in a really nice hotel that's all paid for, and you decided to come back... here."

She gestured to the bar and everything it encompassed: the bar - length mirror, the swinging door to the kitchen where we magick up no less than four different types of bar munchies, the tables and chairs, the meager stage where a band hasn't played in about a month, and the three regular doors: one out the front, one out the back, and one to the loft that I'd most likely be sleeping in for the next two days.

What, I said, and leave all this?

We both laughed.

"Seriously," said Val, "are you still gonna work here after everything blows up for Knox this year?"

Why wouldn't I, I said.

"Hey, two shots of Jack," said a newcomer, a man in his late 20s or so, sitting with another man who looks a few years older.

"Because," said Val, "Knox is about to win two championships and a heavy tournament, which means he's going to be a bonafide celebrity, which means you're gonna be a celebrity. And this isn't like when Juliya was off TV and she was just paying the bills at Cups until Fuse figured out that they were better off with her - this has been your career since you were seventeen and I know you're gonna try to burn the candle at both ends instead of doing what's best for you."

Now, keep in mind that Valerie is a short woman with blonde hair, two lip rings, and lots of tattoos. Not exactly the demographic I thought would watch wrestling. Heck, I only watched the shows RK wrestled on, and now that I'm there with him I don't even do that anymore.

"My boyfriend is a big fan," said Val, apparently reading my mind, "and of course since he's a wrestling fan in general I always made sure we caught you guys, so I learned a few things."

Well, I said, as I made myself a poor - woman's - lemonade, it's been fun so far when I've gotten to get involved, and making those videos was ridiculous, but who really knows how long it's gonna last, right? RK cracked a bone in his neck a few years ago and the doctor said he was really lucky that there was no lasting damage.

I reached down to my knee and adjusted my boot.

I really do have the most ridiculous shoes ever. Half my closet is flip flops, the other half is boots of varying lengths, heels, and zippers-buckles-laces. RK once said that as much of a city girl I am, I'm also a dirty hippie at heart.

"Please," said Val, "You haven't worked an event in weeks, you don't hear all the guys - and girls - that come in looking for you because they saw you on TV and fell in lust."

So everybody wants a piece, I said, so what happens when the TV shows are over? I'm having the time of my life, Val, but I'm also a realist and I'm doing this to support RK. If he stops doing this, I stop doing this. Last thing I want is to be one of those sad sacks on the other side of the bar, waiting around for someone to recognize me.

"Cally, do you really think Knox is ever gonna stop?"

That's not the point, I said, gesturing to the space around us. I stay on this side of the bar and I keep myself in reality. Wrestleverse, down in North Carolina - that's the fantasy world. That's the dream.

"McGinnis still lives it," pointed out Val. She had a point, but it was somewhat off - center.

Miss Ivy lived and breathed professional wrestling for like thirty years, I said. Other than Sean and Shannon, and the guys in Valerian's Garden, that's where her focus is. I'm a high school graduate who tends bar.

Long, cold drink of poor - woman's - lemonade.

The minute I forget that, I said, it's all over.

Two more days and I'd be back in Greensboro for another vacation from my life. But that's all it is.

Just a vacation.

 

[TH]

Re: And now for something completely different

The scene is an abandoned warehouse. Michael Bastard is in a corner, clutching the Intercontinental Championship, while The Amazing Logan stands in front.

TAL: The time has come for a reckoning. On the grandest stage of them all, Michael will unleash his greatest carnage, making an example the likes that have never been seen in this industry, ever. You see, he's been on the sidelines, simmering, stewing, waiting for his chance to make his ultimate mark on this world of wrestling.

At WrestleVerse, the place where legends are born and where dreams are either fulfilled or destroyed, both will happen in the Intercontinental Championship match. Michael's dreams of asserting himself as the greatest Intercontinental Champion and the next number one contender to the World Championship will be fulfilled. And Impulse? Well, his dream of being able to walk without a limp or breathe on his own will be destroyed.

You see Impulse, you, more than any other opponent Michael has had, will suffer the unfortunate fate of the loss of your physical faculties. It's nothing personal, really, but it's necessary. The Empire needs to know that people don't leave encounters with Michael the same.

So, when the dust is cleared, Michael will still have his title. Impulse? You'll be lucky to have consciousness.

Logan abruptly swings his cane, knocking over the camera, fading to static.