Post by Jason Cashe on Mar 19, 2022 11:37:17 GMT
SMACK!
Falling to a knee, the boy Champion with the Belt that had 'IWF' written on it in marker holds his face. It was red as tears build up in his eyes and he looks up at the man who slapped him. Jason Cashe.
"Are you going to DO anything?" Cashe asks the boy Champion. "Get up. I didn't even slap you that hard.." Adding, as he reaches down and offers a hand for the boy to rise with.
SMACK!
No sooner does the man child 'Champion' rise is he slapped down for a second time. Much louder the second time as the gym echoes from the slap.
"GOT daaaamn!" Cashe shakes his hand, that one stung his palm numb. "Bet that did more than tickle huh?" Laughing and shaking his head, Cashe was playing games with this guy.
"I will smirk and throw a drink in your face! Don't test me!" The man child warns. Cashe chuckles upon hearing the threat if that's what you want to call it.
"Empty threats at best.." Scoffing as he begins to pace from side to side. Jason Cashe keeps his eyes firmly on the boy 'Champion' of IWF as he gets into shooting off at the mouth. "Know what really works my nerve?"
Cashe begins to explain as the man child is kneeled down with one side of his face turning a deep red in color.
"People who have actually showed up WANTING to win this Roulette match to add to their legacies. To get a Title shot or just outright get paid!"
A momentary pause, Cashe plugs his left nostril and blows out from his right. He had an itch. "Now from what I can see? From the tape I have watched and the internet marks who put together fan pages of the history of this company…
I have found that it caters to a certain type of person. That those who do well here are those who kiss the right ass for their opportunities. Take your pick. Ulf, Wraith, Rob Diamond when truth be told, I'd draft Dean Harper in the first round and the rest of you MIGHT be second round talent.. If we're being generous!"
"I've got talent, my Mom is famous!" The boy Champion says with his whole chest stuck out as if her accomplishments and her fame was something he could share.
"Yeah and your Aunt has the biggest head I've ever seen on a woman.." Cashe smiles. "The point is. Every last one of them have spouted off about the reasons why they are here, why they are competing. I have done the same in some respect but why I am here is not with the goal of becoming a Male Only World Champion. I respect equality, I have known the strengths of a woman inside the ring. No, me winning that belt is not high on my to do list."
"Good because I'll say I will fight you but since you left me alone, I've pretended like you never existed!"
"Obviously. Remember that FIGHT NYC Event? Whooped your ass then, nothing. No retaliation. You might as well still be holding your Mother's purse or coattails. At least she has BALLS!"
The man child 'Champion' gasps as his jaw drops open. "You wish you could hold her coattails!"
"I have held plenty of her, trust me!" Letting his mind wonder in a now faded memory, Cashe shakes off the thought and returns to the now. Remembering where he was going with his point, he continues.
"In truth? I wish you were in this match. I wish you were in it to defend not your title but the opportunity for a Title Match. You win, you get the night off. It counts as you defending the belt even without it actually being on the line. You lose, you find yourself in the same boat you are currently in and gain a Contender. Someone who jumped on a Speed Train to a shot at the gold..
Like Robb who loves this company. He expressed this plenty, a real kiss ass. He really wants to win. Dean Harper thinks we are all half assing it and by the looks of the majority? He isn't wrong. I expected more to be honest.."
"Like what?" The man child 'Champion' asks, now seemingly interested in what Cashe was going on about.
"I expected JC Keeton to talk more shit." Shrugging, he supposed he wasn't entirely surprised. "Maybe he still will, he seems very last minute and probably NEEDS the last word to feel accomplished.."
"You don't seem to have much respect for some of the more respected names in IWF.. Why even join this match if you have no interest in the company or the Title shot if you win?"
It was a good question. One that Cashe had an answer for but also had an action for in his response to it. "One second.." Holding his index finger up, Cashe exits the ring.
He grabs a folding chair and slides under the ropes to reenter the ring with the chair in hand. "I have slapped you, beaten you down on TWO occasions Wraith..
I have called you out. I have beaten Ulf in another company. I have fought Matt Knox behind a Chillis. I have traded words with JC Keeton, he says he will throw me over.. And Angel? He just has a punchable face.."
"It's the paint job!" The man child 'Champion' adds in agreement.
"Right?" Cashe snickers. "The point is.. I can only do so much in a Tweet. I can only go so far whooping your ass outside of Daycares at Strip Clubs and I can only hope that Keeton keeps himself in a match that he agrees to be booked for.." Holding the chair up, Cashe rubs the seat of it. "So I figured, fuck it. Let's go to where they have home field advantage. Let me take the fight to all of you!"
Cashe, with the chair gripped with both hands, snaps forward and clobbers the man child 'Champion' over the head with the steel folding chair. Instantly knocking him limp. The man child 'Champion' is laid out on the canvas.
Leaving the ring once more, Cashe picks up the IWF foam Championship that has the initials written across it in marker. "I'd win this just to spite the majority of you… Fuck this belt though, I want bodies."
Dropping the belt, Cashe heads to the back. He is done training for the Roulette.
Falling to a knee, the boy Champion with the Belt that had 'IWF' written on it in marker holds his face. It was red as tears build up in his eyes and he looks up at the man who slapped him. Jason Cashe.
"Are you going to DO anything?" Cashe asks the boy Champion. "Get up. I didn't even slap you that hard.." Adding, as he reaches down and offers a hand for the boy to rise with.
SMACK!
No sooner does the man child 'Champion' rise is he slapped down for a second time. Much louder the second time as the gym echoes from the slap.
"GOT daaaamn!" Cashe shakes his hand, that one stung his palm numb. "Bet that did more than tickle huh?" Laughing and shaking his head, Cashe was playing games with this guy.
"I will smirk and throw a drink in your face! Don't test me!" The man child warns. Cashe chuckles upon hearing the threat if that's what you want to call it.
"Empty threats at best.." Scoffing as he begins to pace from side to side. Jason Cashe keeps his eyes firmly on the boy 'Champion' of IWF as he gets into shooting off at the mouth. "Know what really works my nerve?"
Cashe begins to explain as the man child is kneeled down with one side of his face turning a deep red in color.
"People who have actually showed up WANTING to win this Roulette match to add to their legacies. To get a Title shot or just outright get paid!"
A momentary pause, Cashe plugs his left nostril and blows out from his right. He had an itch. "Now from what I can see? From the tape I have watched and the internet marks who put together fan pages of the history of this company…
I have found that it caters to a certain type of person. That those who do well here are those who kiss the right ass for their opportunities. Take your pick. Ulf, Wraith, Rob Diamond when truth be told, I'd draft Dean Harper in the first round and the rest of you MIGHT be second round talent.. If we're being generous!"
"I've got talent, my Mom is famous!" The boy Champion says with his whole chest stuck out as if her accomplishments and her fame was something he could share.
"Yeah and your Aunt has the biggest head I've ever seen on a woman.." Cashe smiles. "The point is. Every last one of them have spouted off about the reasons why they are here, why they are competing. I have done the same in some respect but why I am here is not with the goal of becoming a Male Only World Champion. I respect equality, I have known the strengths of a woman inside the ring. No, me winning that belt is not high on my to do list."
"Good because I'll say I will fight you but since you left me alone, I've pretended like you never existed!"
"Obviously. Remember that FIGHT NYC Event? Whooped your ass then, nothing. No retaliation. You might as well still be holding your Mother's purse or coattails. At least she has BALLS!"
The man child 'Champion' gasps as his jaw drops open. "You wish you could hold her coattails!"
"I have held plenty of her, trust me!" Letting his mind wonder in a now faded memory, Cashe shakes off the thought and returns to the now. Remembering where he was going with his point, he continues.
"In truth? I wish you were in this match. I wish you were in it to defend not your title but the opportunity for a Title Match. You win, you get the night off. It counts as you defending the belt even without it actually being on the line. You lose, you find yourself in the same boat you are currently in and gain a Contender. Someone who jumped on a Speed Train to a shot at the gold..
Like Robb who loves this company. He expressed this plenty, a real kiss ass. He really wants to win. Dean Harper thinks we are all half assing it and by the looks of the majority? He isn't wrong. I expected more to be honest.."
"Like what?" The man child 'Champion' asks, now seemingly interested in what Cashe was going on about.
"I expected JC Keeton to talk more shit." Shrugging, he supposed he wasn't entirely surprised. "Maybe he still will, he seems very last minute and probably NEEDS the last word to feel accomplished.."
"You don't seem to have much respect for some of the more respected names in IWF.. Why even join this match if you have no interest in the company or the Title shot if you win?"
It was a good question. One that Cashe had an answer for but also had an action for in his response to it. "One second.." Holding his index finger up, Cashe exits the ring.
He grabs a folding chair and slides under the ropes to reenter the ring with the chair in hand. "I have slapped you, beaten you down on TWO occasions Wraith..
I have called you out. I have beaten Ulf in another company. I have fought Matt Knox behind a Chillis. I have traded words with JC Keeton, he says he will throw me over.. And Angel? He just has a punchable face.."
"It's the paint job!" The man child 'Champion' adds in agreement.
"Right?" Cashe snickers. "The point is.. I can only do so much in a Tweet. I can only go so far whooping your ass outside of Daycares at Strip Clubs and I can only hope that Keeton keeps himself in a match that he agrees to be booked for.." Holding the chair up, Cashe rubs the seat of it. "So I figured, fuck it. Let's go to where they have home field advantage. Let me take the fight to all of you!"
Cashe, with the chair gripped with both hands, snaps forward and clobbers the man child 'Champion' over the head with the steel folding chair. Instantly knocking him limp. The man child 'Champion' is laid out on the canvas.
Leaving the ring once more, Cashe picks up the IWF foam Championship that has the initials written across it in marker. "I'd win this just to spite the majority of you… Fuck this belt though, I want bodies."
Dropping the belt, Cashe heads to the back. He is done training for the Roulette.
Well howdy there pardner.