Post by Trent Helms on Jul 5, 2018 3:07:00 GMT
There it is, another week down, and there are many questions people are asking. Why didn’t Dean Harper cash in his Joker in the pack when the opportunity presented itself. How did Dean also lose to James Gilmore? Will the Lakers contend with LeBron James, and why is Trent Helms obsessed with having a framed picture of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader in his locker room?
Many questions, all of which.
Will not be answered here in this presentation.
There are more important issues to discuss.
I gave Roberto Verona time, I know his time is extremely limited, yet he is finding time to battle Todd Williams.
The Todd Williams who is so far removed from being a credible threat, and that his fifteen minutes of fame ended nearly four years ago?
That Todd Williams right?
The same Todd Williams that a primate once confused for Todd Duffee?
I’m still not sure we are even talking about the same Todd Williams. The one who will literally pop up literally moments away the deadline this promotion sets for personal promos to be aired?
I’m glad that is out of the way.
Now riddle me this.
Why is playing around with Todd when he should be finalizing the deal that is going to be a dedicated and determined Trent Helms to IWF.
I’m not talking the being who coasted thru NCW once he got what he wanted.
I’m not talking that Trent Helms who gave you countless match of the year candidates.
I’m talking the Trent Helms, who marched into a newly found promotion. One that was growing but hasn’t found it’s footing by giving flash in the pan competitor chances. Turn everything it believed and made a entire planet believe I was from another planet.
I’m not from another planet?
Shut up gimmick Trent, this is the real Trent Helms speaking.
Have you even noticed that?
No Morgan Freeman, No Bruce Campbell or William Shatner voice-overs?
I want you to know I’m serious.
I’m not going to sing every little thing I did, all the things I’ve done that no other couldn’t being couldn’t.
I could tell you how I’m a Hall of Famer and ride that cashcow to the bank.
Trent Helms doesn’t care about cash. I made more then enough of that if I truly wanted too. I would buy this company outright.
I don’t care about your money. Your cash has never appealed to me. That’s why I would blow thru in a single promo, what seven Nighthawks would make in a single year.
That’s why I’ve never asked for a single cent, nor am I. You have a once in a lifetime offer to get a man who can shake this promotion to it’s very core. A man who shift away from dark and brooding goth types with a fetish for torture. You can move away from wannabe deities who have the vernacular of your common twelve year old kid.
Yes.
Trent Helms just used the word vernacular.
I learnt a big word.
If the above, and three generic athletically gifted primates who traded all the charisma they were ever born with in for another two hundred submission holds that they will never ever actually use in actual combat are your thing. Then all means. Tell me off Robert. Pay me for the time you wasted of mine and send me on my way.
But if you want someone who can do things no other being on the roster can do, if you truly care about the evolution of your own company, if you truly want to see this company get to a entire new level, You know damn well I’m capable of it.
Just look at what I’ve done in just two weeks without being on the active roster.
I made James Gilmore as interesting as he is ever going to be. I’m not Jesus, but that is a testament to my abilities if there ever was one.
I’ve made your unstoppable world champion, The nearly indestructible and timeless Spike Kane, constantly called me out. The dude is so desperate to make me get it up. But news flash.
Spike Kane doesn’t make my dick hard.
He hardly even ruffles my hello kitty pajamas.
Let me put this into context for you.
Your world champion is parading around, and basically saying.
Please Trent. Please punch me in my face so I can use it for my secret fetish where I have an organism when another being punches me in the face.
No Spike.
You will not be Cumming from me Primate.
Nor am I even interested in that piece of gold you carry around.
I can’t even begin to take that championship seriously. It’s nothing but a fake championship.
I’m not crapping on the lineage of it, I’m not putting down every stride Andrew Jacobsen has made in the past three years. The very same Andrew Jacobsen that if I went back into the NCW Archeives, that you badmouth and called a joke, now you’re all chum-ho with.
You make me sick.
You’re a fake, because you change your ideals on the fly, that even you’re not aware of which ideology. You’ve turned good and bad so many times, gave up on relationships the moment they soured. You’re side with the people who swore that they would erase you from this planet.
That’s why I refuse to even acknowledge your championship Reign.
You promised to erase the Pack from this planet, and yet Seven months later. You haven’t moved a second closer to that goal.
You’re clearly too busy refreshing the old, Angels and Goth kid’s drama from day of old and making jokes and cracking one liners.
The Spike Kane who destroyed and conquered didn’t know the meaning of a one liner. His punchline was always a punch, followed by a blunt object against a skull.
You’re soft and I no longer even know this being. I’m pretty sure you’re not even Michael anymore. The person who I truly believed was a god. Now I don’t even know what to believe, you ruined our friendship for what reason? Because you think it makes you look cool, and to continue your own legacy.
Well Spike I built my own legacy, one that was built on transcending past this very industry. I worked my ass off, so that I could do things my way, and believe me. My ideals won’t ever change. You took the route of hitting people over the head, and stabbing people in the back. I did it with a quick tongue and social awareness. We both built impressive legacys, Triple Crowns, World Championships, even a tag championship reign together. We even share this.
{Trent brings his first up to the screen, as there are two rings, the first is a beautiful white silver ring, with a Aqua and Purple Diamond with the words Ashes to Ashes, the other has the huge oversized ring, with the NCW Logo on it, with the words NCW Hall Of Fame, Class of 2013)
Outside of my family, my daughter paige, and Ashlie, this was what made me. Redemption, the look on your faces when you tried to deny me what was mine.
I took on every single person who ever had the honor to wear one of these. Some of them I regrettably retired. Some ended decade long friendships, some of them reforged friendships that were torn apart by combat.
And yet…There was always one single person on that list, when I decided to break character and go out for blood for the first time, One single Hall of Famer, who was too afraid to even battle me and try to stop me.
Any guesses Spike?
Are you too busy coming up with another one liner and ignoring the fact that you’re wrong once again?
It doesn’t matter.
Legacies are bullshit anyways.
You want to know how serious I am.
{Trent pulls the Hall of Fame ring off his finger, as he places it between his palm and closes it. He stares blankly into the camera before dropping the ring to the floor}
These mean nothing to me, these don’t define who I am, like they do with you.
{Trent reaches his hand to the sky, as Mjolnir, the might hammer of thor appears in his hand, as he lunges down, swinging the hammer down with such force that he drops to a knee, as a loud clank is heard, He lifts the hammer back up, and once again brings it back down, as he grunts}
Everything can be destroyed, even my own body has been destroyed twice, Yet here I am
{The camera pans down to showed the destroyed Hall of Fame ring}
This is my new beginning. Everything to this point truly means nothing to me.
{Trent once again lifts the hammer up and yells as he tosses it into a nearby display case, with all the repelica’s of his former championships, as the sound of glass shattering, and metal hitting the floor}
If these are truly what defines who we are, Then yes Spike, I am truly nothing. But that will allow me, to evolve into something else. There will come a time Spike, when management gets off there asses and stops jerking it to the Hot Topic models parading as wrestlers and they sign me here. Considering the fact, they have yet to banish me or censor me, means it is coming.
When that day comes Spike.
I will whisper four words to you.
Then I will show you, what they truly mean.
Many questions, all of which.
Will not be answered here in this presentation.
There are more important issues to discuss.
I gave Roberto Verona time, I know his time is extremely limited, yet he is finding time to battle Todd Williams.
The Todd Williams who is so far removed from being a credible threat, and that his fifteen minutes of fame ended nearly four years ago?
That Todd Williams right?
The same Todd Williams that a primate once confused for Todd Duffee?
I’m still not sure we are even talking about the same Todd Williams. The one who will literally pop up literally moments away the deadline this promotion sets for personal promos to be aired?
I’m glad that is out of the way.
Now riddle me this.
Why is playing around with Todd when he should be finalizing the deal that is going to be a dedicated and determined Trent Helms to IWF.
I’m not talking the being who coasted thru NCW once he got what he wanted.
I’m not talking that Trent Helms who gave you countless match of the year candidates.
I’m talking the Trent Helms, who marched into a newly found promotion. One that was growing but hasn’t found it’s footing by giving flash in the pan competitor chances. Turn everything it believed and made a entire planet believe I was from another planet.
I’m not from another planet?
Shut up gimmick Trent, this is the real Trent Helms speaking.
Have you even noticed that?
No Morgan Freeman, No Bruce Campbell or William Shatner voice-overs?
I want you to know I’m serious.
I’m not going to sing every little thing I did, all the things I’ve done that no other couldn’t being couldn’t.
I could tell you how I’m a Hall of Famer and ride that cashcow to the bank.
Trent Helms doesn’t care about cash. I made more then enough of that if I truly wanted too. I would buy this company outright.
I don’t care about your money. Your cash has never appealed to me. That’s why I would blow thru in a single promo, what seven Nighthawks would make in a single year.
That’s why I’ve never asked for a single cent, nor am I. You have a once in a lifetime offer to get a man who can shake this promotion to it’s very core. A man who shift away from dark and brooding goth types with a fetish for torture. You can move away from wannabe deities who have the vernacular of your common twelve year old kid.
Yes.
Trent Helms just used the word vernacular.
I learnt a big word.
If the above, and three generic athletically gifted primates who traded all the charisma they were ever born with in for another two hundred submission holds that they will never ever actually use in actual combat are your thing. Then all means. Tell me off Robert. Pay me for the time you wasted of mine and send me on my way.
But if you want someone who can do things no other being on the roster can do, if you truly care about the evolution of your own company, if you truly want to see this company get to a entire new level, You know damn well I’m capable of it.
Just look at what I’ve done in just two weeks without being on the active roster.
I made James Gilmore as interesting as he is ever going to be. I’m not Jesus, but that is a testament to my abilities if there ever was one.
I’ve made your unstoppable world champion, The nearly indestructible and timeless Spike Kane, constantly called me out. The dude is so desperate to make me get it up. But news flash.
Spike Kane doesn’t make my dick hard.
He hardly even ruffles my hello kitty pajamas.
Let me put this into context for you.
Your world champion is parading around, and basically saying.
Please Trent. Please punch me in my face so I can use it for my secret fetish where I have an organism when another being punches me in the face.
No Spike.
You will not be Cumming from me Primate.
Nor am I even interested in that piece of gold you carry around.
I can’t even begin to take that championship seriously. It’s nothing but a fake championship.
I’m not crapping on the lineage of it, I’m not putting down every stride Andrew Jacobsen has made in the past three years. The very same Andrew Jacobsen that if I went back into the NCW Archeives, that you badmouth and called a joke, now you’re all chum-ho with.
You make me sick.
You’re a fake, because you change your ideals on the fly, that even you’re not aware of which ideology. You’ve turned good and bad so many times, gave up on relationships the moment they soured. You’re side with the people who swore that they would erase you from this planet.
That’s why I refuse to even acknowledge your championship Reign.
You promised to erase the Pack from this planet, and yet Seven months later. You haven’t moved a second closer to that goal.
You’re clearly too busy refreshing the old, Angels and Goth kid’s drama from day of old and making jokes and cracking one liners.
The Spike Kane who destroyed and conquered didn’t know the meaning of a one liner. His punchline was always a punch, followed by a blunt object against a skull.
You’re soft and I no longer even know this being. I’m pretty sure you’re not even Michael anymore. The person who I truly believed was a god. Now I don’t even know what to believe, you ruined our friendship for what reason? Because you think it makes you look cool, and to continue your own legacy.
Well Spike I built my own legacy, one that was built on transcending past this very industry. I worked my ass off, so that I could do things my way, and believe me. My ideals won’t ever change. You took the route of hitting people over the head, and stabbing people in the back. I did it with a quick tongue and social awareness. We both built impressive legacys, Triple Crowns, World Championships, even a tag championship reign together. We even share this.
{Trent brings his first up to the screen, as there are two rings, the first is a beautiful white silver ring, with a Aqua and Purple Diamond with the words Ashes to Ashes, the other has the huge oversized ring, with the NCW Logo on it, with the words NCW Hall Of Fame, Class of 2013)
Outside of my family, my daughter paige, and Ashlie, this was what made me. Redemption, the look on your faces when you tried to deny me what was mine.
I took on every single person who ever had the honor to wear one of these. Some of them I regrettably retired. Some ended decade long friendships, some of them reforged friendships that were torn apart by combat.
And yet…There was always one single person on that list, when I decided to break character and go out for blood for the first time, One single Hall of Famer, who was too afraid to even battle me and try to stop me.
Any guesses Spike?
Are you too busy coming up with another one liner and ignoring the fact that you’re wrong once again?
It doesn’t matter.
Legacies are bullshit anyways.
You want to know how serious I am.
{Trent pulls the Hall of Fame ring off his finger, as he places it between his palm and closes it. He stares blankly into the camera before dropping the ring to the floor}
These mean nothing to me, these don’t define who I am, like they do with you.
{Trent reaches his hand to the sky, as Mjolnir, the might hammer of thor appears in his hand, as he lunges down, swinging the hammer down with such force that he drops to a knee, as a loud clank is heard, He lifts the hammer back up, and once again brings it back down, as he grunts}
Everything can be destroyed, even my own body has been destroyed twice, Yet here I am
{The camera pans down to showed the destroyed Hall of Fame ring}
This is my new beginning. Everything to this point truly means nothing to me.
{Trent once again lifts the hammer up and yells as he tosses it into a nearby display case, with all the repelica’s of his former championships, as the sound of glass shattering, and metal hitting the floor}
If these are truly what defines who we are, Then yes Spike, I am truly nothing. But that will allow me, to evolve into something else. There will come a time Spike, when management gets off there asses and stops jerking it to the Hot Topic models parading as wrestlers and they sign me here. Considering the fact, they have yet to banish me or censor me, means it is coming.
When that day comes Spike.
I will whisper four words to you.
Then I will show you, what they truly mean.
Well howdy there pardner.