The Beginning of a Legacy

[Nick Knight]

{Nick Knight is sitting in his electric chair in the darkened room lit only by a single naked bulb. He is dressed in his pin strip suit for the first time in weeks and his plague doctor mask rests on his knee, which bounces nervously. A uncomfortable smirk painted on his face as he slowly begins to clap. The pace of his clapping increases until it’s full on applause, then as quickly as it begins it stops.}

Congratulations Angel, you once again managed to beat me by this much.

{Knight holds up his hand, the thumb and forefinger an inch apart.}

You’ve earned a shot to wrestle your stepson for a chance to become World Television Champion for the very first time. It would be another notch on your proverbial bed post, but no one will fucking care. Just like they don't give a shit that Sabin has the belt right now. That belt is going to be thought of as the Nick Knight championship, at least until someone has the balls to eclipse my accomplishments.

Does the all mighty 'God of Wrestling' have what it takes to carry this company week in and week out, or would he be another pay-per-view only champion? I think we all know the answer because, despite you bullshit insistence that you're the face of IWF, you and Sabin went four fucking months without defending the tag team championships. Sure, you were also World Champion, but that's just more proof that your giant ass ego is going to destroy the IWF.

I refuse to let that happen! IWF is too damn important to the sport of professional wrestling to let a family in Halloween makeup put it in it's grave. That is why this week I'm not fighting for my legacy, but for the legacy of this entire damn company.

I know ain’t going to be easy, but the past few months I’ve been trying to take the easy way out. Hatred had blinded me to the point that the only way I could see to save IWF was to slay ‘God.’ Had I just opened my fucking eyes I would have seen that there is another path. I must walk a road that winds through Hell, but on the other side is the Invictus Championship.

{}

Now most people really couldn’t care less about the Invictus Championship because it has jack shit for tradition. There have been a grand total of three champion, and not a single one of them has done anything to make people fucking care. You’ve got the inaugural champion Stephen Terrella who decided that the brand new title would be a part time one only defended on pay-per-view. He dropped the strap to Matt Knox, who at least defended on TV, but he did absolutely nothing memorable. Now we have a champion, Alexandra Calaway, that would rather try to win another championship that defend the one that she already has.

That is all going to change once that beautiful belt is around the waist of ‘The Hollywood Butcher’ because I know how to make a championship important. Just look at my run as World Television Champion and you will a masterclass in how to make people give a shit about a championship, and sure as Hell ain’t by only defending it on pay-per-view. No, it’s by taking the company on your back and defending your title week in and week out until your greatness can’t be denied. Most importantly I will raise the Invictus Championship until there is no doubt that it’s on the same level as The World Championship, taking all of the power away from Angel Blake’s merry band of rejects.

None of this matters though if I’m not the last person standing on Sunday night, which is going to be a tall task. There is no match in all of professional wrestling that I hate more than a battle royal because they’re so fucking unpredictable. Sure, it’s every person for themselves, but you never know who is going to decide to make some sort of an alliance mid-match. Worse of all you never fucking know when someone is going to stab you in the back.

I’m not going to pretend like I have any friends going into this match because I don’t. Chris Diamond and I have butted heads more than once over the past couple of years, and there’s still no love lost. ITAMI is someone that I respect from my time around her back in The Church of Crosse days, but I have a feeling that she probably hates my guts for getting her fired. Then there’s Caleb Cannin who is just an arrogant little prick that I wouldn’t piss on if he was on fire.

I’ve never been inside of the ring with any of the rest, but I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. So, let’s see ULTIMO Valiente the very worst sort of wrestler that lucha libre has ever produced. A squeaky clean technico that cares way more about looking good and being a role model for the niños than he does about actually winning matches. Trust me, I’ve spent a whole lot of time in Mexico kicking the shit out of wannabe superheroes wearing masks just like him.

Then there is Emmanuelle, who is a wolf in sheep's clothing. She looks like one of the vapid blood bimbos I see all over LA. The kind that get by in the world with a big ass and a set of tits that may or may not be real, but she has a brain inside of her head. That makes for a dangerous combination because the second you get lured in by the beauty she’ll bite your fucking head off. Trust me I live with a couple of women just like that, except, lucky for me, they don’t know how to wrestle.

Let’s see…

{Nick looks at a sheet of paper he has sitting on the arm of his chair.}

Ah yes, Frank Black. Frank enjoyed some success when he was younger tagging with his brother, whose untimely passing has motivated him to climb back into the ring. It’s really a touching story, and I think I would do the exact same thing if anything ever happened to James. The only problem is Frank, you’re nothing more than a Wish Nick Knight. You know a whole bunch of throws, just like I do. You can throw hands with the best of them, just like I can. Hell, you use Pantera as your entrance music, just like I did most of the first twenty years of my career. The problem is that you never really learned how to do anything else, which is why you were in a tag team that your older brother carried, and I was traveling the world winning championships.

Virginia Stepanov and Legion well, quite frankly they are a couple of bad ass bitches. Watching either of them in a fight reminds of some shit I once when I was working as a bouncer in a biker bar in West Texas. This was the kind of place where there was chicken wire around the stage to protect the bands from flying bottles, and the sawdust on the floor was to absorb the blood. Well it was a Saturday night just before closing time and this one drunk chick decided that would be a good time to confront her cheating boyfriend, and he didn’t want to deal with her. So, he pulls a knife and is about to cut her when all of a sudden I see a chair explode into a hundred pieces his back.

The person that swung the chair wasn’t another customer looking out from the woman, because they were all chicken shit. It wasn’t any of the other bouncers because they were all too far away the same as me. No, it was this little five foot nothing waitress we had named Steph that laid out this great big three hundred pounder. She was absolutely fearless and from that night on I never worried about her being able to take care of herself.

Virginia and Legion are two women cut from the same cloth as Steph. You never ever have to worry about themselves being able to handle themselves in a fight against anyone, even if they have to use a chair to get their point across. This is the thing that makes them most dangerous any match, but especially in a match like this one.

Last, and probably least we have HIJOU. A shorter, lighter, and way less talented version of Itami that is just breaking into IWF. I mean, how fucking threatened should I feel by someone that uses Baby Metal for their etrance music. Then again she is the biggest wildcard in the match and the person that worried the most because I’ve had so little film to watch.

I honestly think that most of the people in this match are capable of winning. It’s going to really come down to who has the most luck, and catches a break at the right time. I hate to sound ike a broken record, but with this much talent the margin of error. If I’m going to be honest, this match would be the main event of a lot of wrestling shows.

Good luck to my opponents, and may this be the beginning of your legacy.

{The End}