Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2015 9:39:22 GMT -5
"Till Death Do Us Part"
Five words have never described my professional wrestling career like these five have. My love for professional wrestling started when I was two years old, a tiny little guy who was enamored by these athletes who would go out and beat the living crap out of each other week in and week out. It became an addiction, literally. Growing up, every store I would walk into would be a trip straight to the action figure section, my parents would spend a sh*tload of money on whatever guy I wanted that day. I would go back home and put the plastic men through hell replicating the moves I saw on television.
And then my love for wrestling became stronger as I turned sixteen. I was in some deep sh*t in my town, I wasn't one of the best kids on the block. Everybody knew me as "The Finisher". If two dill weeds were fighting it out, I was the one to stop it. That nickname fueled my high school life, however short it was. The one constant during that time in my life was professional wrestling. All my friends left me and went on to bigger things in the drug underworld, my parents kicked me out of the house, leaving me on the streets alone. But professional wrestling was always there for me. No matter what happened in my life, I could always turn to pro wrestling to get my mind off things.
When I finally left that scene and made my way down from Calgary to Toronto, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to become a pro f*cking wrestler and I was bound and determined to be the best wrestler to ever lace up the boots. I worked my craft for years in Japan, living and sleeping on the floors of dingy old dojos just for a chance to be able to train with the top stars. I was beaten and battered until I turned fifty shades of black and blue all for my one love: pro wrestling.
I married pro wrestling, never wanting to leave its side.
Pro wrestling raped me from a normal life and I let it.
This is a case of domestic violence, but I am the b*tch who doesn't want to leave.
I don't want to leave my only love, but Lila Sleater may very well force me out. Let's look at the stipulation shall we? If I lose this match, I am fired from the WFWF. Ain't that a b*tch? I would be forced to leave the very thing that I love because of one woman. A woman that I stood side by side to defend the honor of this company and the honor of professional wrestling from the dirty, grimy hands of Trace Demon and Joe Bishop.
2014 Face of the Year.
2014 Feud of the Year.
Two accolades that was voted upon me at this year's awards show. My peers and the viewers at home had voted me as the best good guy in the company, presumably for stopping The Final Revolution to be the final stable in the WFWF, seeing as they would kill it. I may not have been Superstar of the Year, but I was a close second. I should be fighting for that World title right about now, but I have to deal with a petty vindictive bitch who threatening my career in pro wrestling.
Lila Sleater can kiss my ass.
Lila Sleater is dead to me.
This Sunday at End Game, we very well could see the end of the best wrestler in the company. I'm not talking about Phillip Schneider, I'm talking about me. It's time I do something for myself rather than for the company that raped me of my life. It's time that I fight for Dave Demento, not Lila Sleater. It's time for my fight.
I am fighting for my life.
I am fighting for my career and my entire livelihood.
I've been International champion twice now, and now I'm doing a favor for Josh Dean. We will walk in at End Game with a game plan, we are a force to be reckoned with that will take no prisoners to save this company of the poison that is trying to enter its veins. WE ARE THE SAVIORS OF SALVATION, SAVING THIS GOD DAMN COMPANY FROM ALL EVIL.
The KoKaine Konspiracy. A group of dinglenuts who think they are scary? They're run by a midget. Let me tell you something about Donnie Monty Kent, he's the perfect height for sucking cock. DMK would rather suck Michael Kyzer's messiah than keep his mind focused on this match. Samael Ahriman hasn't been relevant in years and is better off behind the announce desk than in the ring. The man doesn't even have a god damn moveset, let alone a damn finisher. And Tugarin Zmey, this supposed monster, is just another man that I will destroy on my way to become the greatest wrestler in this company.
And then we have Hollywood Unhinged, 2.0 is it? Chase Landon ran off because he doesn't want to be seen with such a talentless worker like Jayson Garrett. With Chase Landon out, insert Diamond Jack Sabbath. I know Jack, I've competed alongside him in different companies. I also know that he will be carrying this team. I will dismantle Sabbath to guarantee myself the win against Garrett. Jayson is a follower, not a leader. I kill the leader, I kill the follower.
I will take no prisoners.
I am and always will be a professional wrestling fan.
Lila Sleater has taken my passion for pro wrestling and buried it six feet under.
Death has done us part.
Once End Game comes to a close, win or lose, two words will finish off my career.
"Disappear Here"