Post by kaster on Jan 15, 2024 6:03:58 GMT
The ballroom has a stale aroma of beer and what feels like too much body spray. A ring is set up in the center, surrounded by hundreds of Los Angeles residents. In the first row, Charlie Van Ruth sits in a metal folding chair. Being at this local show reminds him of his own career on the independents. The Florida circuit was intense but rewarding. This California show has a similar vibe, though he is only here to watch one person.
Yeah, check this ol’ fly shit out, word up
Cash rules everything around me
Take you on a natural joint
C.R.E.A.M. get the money
Here we, here we go
Dollar, dollar bill y’all
Check this shit, yo
Out comes a familiar face. Cash steps out from the smoke, wearing a white leather jacket and blazing orange tights. He rocks his head to the beat and bars of Wu-Tang Clan while the L.A. crowd chants the chorus lines at him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, from Anaheim, California… weighing in at 217 pounds… he is CASH KONGO!!!”
Cash Kongo vaults over the top rope and rolls into a standing pose. He takes a wad of bills out of his jacket pocket and makes it rain out to the front row. As soon as he sees Charlie in the audience, he gives him a small wink before turning back around.
Van Ruth smiles as the crowd roars in approval for Kongo’s entrance. He watches the people next to him clutch the bills in their hands. Upon a focused inspection, he finds out that they are fake bills with Kongo’s face plastered on them. The realization causes Charlie to chuckle slightly before looking back towards the ring.
The Kings of Flight sit next to each other, adorned in matching black and gold hoodies. They are currently sitting in the empty stands of the Petersen Events Center, which the camera briefly pans out to. Once the shot comes back to the Kings, they are both looking ready to go.
“I said that 2024 was going to be our year and by god, I meant it. We came off a hard-fought loss to Savage by Nature at Survival of the Fittest. We put our bodies on the line, just like we do every single night when we have a match.”
“We’re all game for doing tags again, even though we both found some pretty good singles success in the past few weeks. This time, though, we are gonna have ourselves a little triple threat tag! Ain’t that right, Charles?”
“Team MOD, the Ravens, psh. That’s all they have for us? The Ravens got lucky when Terrella cost us the match against them. As for the MODders, we haven’t officially crossed paths but I don’t think some weird timeshare island cult is going to stop either of us from winning. But there is one wrinkle in this match…”
“We know it’s a triple threat. We know it’s a tornado tag. And-”
Tyson shakes his head and has a small laugh with himself.
“Now they wanna put Savage by Nature as the guest referees? All these hurdles, all these roadblocks, most people would whine and complain… but not us. I’ve never been that type of guy. Charlie has never been that type of guy. When we see the deck stacked against us, it only makes us work twice as hard.”
“And twice as fast.”
“You’re damn right, ‘cause unlike these other teams around here, we got the spirit. The HEART. People like Terrella and Widow can put us down, but we get right back up! So throw in all these teams, throw in a no DQ match, throw in those little bitches as the refs, we REFUSE to be stopped!”
“I think it’s hilarious that the only time Terrella and the Widow want to show up is when they don’t have to fight us. They got away with that bullshit at Survival of the Fittest, but now they act too high and mighty to face us. They’re scared, I can see it. What will happen if their secret weapon Portia isn’t there to help them? What would be the result if it was just two-on-two, no weapons and no blood? I think it would be a VERY different story. It’s a story they don’t want to tell, because it doesn’t exactly have a fairytale ending for them.”
“Y’all gathered three teams that could challenge for those tag titles at any moment. You got the team who SAY they should be number one contenders overlookin’ the whole thing. You might not see it, but there’s a lot up for grabs at Odyssey. If we get the chance, we can set the stage for our division to blow up. We can carry those championships on shoulders, hold ‘em loud and proud because we WANT to be a team! We NEED to be a team!”
“We can take those tag team titles to places they’ve never been. To Blake and Wraith, they’re just trinkets. Little pieces of gold to carry onto. For us, they’re everything. They represent the hard work and sacrifices we’ve made to get this far. All we need is one shot and I promise you, WE promise you… there will be a changing of the guard.”
“2024 is the year where the Kings of Flight are no longer waiting in the wings. This year, we are going to cement our place among the all-time great tag teams in the Imperial Wrestling Federation! On Tuesday, we figure out who’s at the top of the totem pole here! It’s either some crazy cult people, a couple little birdies… or the top dogs in this place. Nobody soars higher-”
“Nobody goes faster-”
“And nobody can bring it like the Kings.”
“There is going to be one hell of a tornado in Pittsburgh. We can fly right through it. Can you?"
A slight buzz in Charlie's pocket tears his attention away from the exhilarating match in the ring. He fishes through his jeans before pulling out his phone and answering the call.
"What's up?"
"Yo, you got the call about our next match, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be on my way-"
The ring bell interrupts his response. Wu-Tang Clan echoes through the ballroom as Van Ruth covers his free ear.
"Listen! I'll be on my way tomorrow. I had to take care of some stuff before I went anywhere. I have to go. I'm in a, uh, busy area!"
"Wait, C-"
Charlie ends the call, right as Cash gets up on the turnbuckles to celebrate. His gaze connects with Van Ruth's as he scans the crowd. A big grin shows the battle scars of the match: a nasty busted lip, with blood staining Cash's pearly whites. Charlie simply responds with a head nod and a thumbs up.
Yeah, check this ol’ fly shit out, word up
Cash rules everything around me
Take you on a natural joint
C.R.E.A.M. get the money
Here we, here we go
Dollar, dollar bill y’all
Check this shit, yo
Out comes a familiar face. Cash steps out from the smoke, wearing a white leather jacket and blazing orange tights. He rocks his head to the beat and bars of Wu-Tang Clan while the L.A. crowd chants the chorus lines at him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, from Anaheim, California… weighing in at 217 pounds… he is CASH KONGO!!!”
Cash Kongo vaults over the top rope and rolls into a standing pose. He takes a wad of bills out of his jacket pocket and makes it rain out to the front row. As soon as he sees Charlie in the audience, he gives him a small wink before turning back around.
Van Ruth smiles as the crowd roars in approval for Kongo’s entrance. He watches the people next to him clutch the bills in their hands. Upon a focused inspection, he finds out that they are fake bills with Kongo’s face plastered on them. The realization causes Charlie to chuckle slightly before looking back towards the ring.
The Kings of Flight sit next to each other, adorned in matching black and gold hoodies. They are currently sitting in the empty stands of the Petersen Events Center, which the camera briefly pans out to. Once the shot comes back to the Kings, they are both looking ready to go.
“I said that 2024 was going to be our year and by god, I meant it. We came off a hard-fought loss to Savage by Nature at Survival of the Fittest. We put our bodies on the line, just like we do every single night when we have a match.”
“We’re all game for doing tags again, even though we both found some pretty good singles success in the past few weeks. This time, though, we are gonna have ourselves a little triple threat tag! Ain’t that right, Charles?”
“Team MOD, the Ravens, psh. That’s all they have for us? The Ravens got lucky when Terrella cost us the match against them. As for the MODders, we haven’t officially crossed paths but I don’t think some weird timeshare island cult is going to stop either of us from winning. But there is one wrinkle in this match…”
“We know it’s a triple threat. We know it’s a tornado tag. And-”
Tyson shakes his head and has a small laugh with himself.
“Now they wanna put Savage by Nature as the guest referees? All these hurdles, all these roadblocks, most people would whine and complain… but not us. I’ve never been that type of guy. Charlie has never been that type of guy. When we see the deck stacked against us, it only makes us work twice as hard.”
“And twice as fast.”
“You’re damn right, ‘cause unlike these other teams around here, we got the spirit. The HEART. People like Terrella and Widow can put us down, but we get right back up! So throw in all these teams, throw in a no DQ match, throw in those little bitches as the refs, we REFUSE to be stopped!”
“I think it’s hilarious that the only time Terrella and the Widow want to show up is when they don’t have to fight us. They got away with that bullshit at Survival of the Fittest, but now they act too high and mighty to face us. They’re scared, I can see it. What will happen if their secret weapon Portia isn’t there to help them? What would be the result if it was just two-on-two, no weapons and no blood? I think it would be a VERY different story. It’s a story they don’t want to tell, because it doesn’t exactly have a fairytale ending for them.”
“Y’all gathered three teams that could challenge for those tag titles at any moment. You got the team who SAY they should be number one contenders overlookin’ the whole thing. You might not see it, but there’s a lot up for grabs at Odyssey. If we get the chance, we can set the stage for our division to blow up. We can carry those championships on shoulders, hold ‘em loud and proud because we WANT to be a team! We NEED to be a team!”
“We can take those tag team titles to places they’ve never been. To Blake and Wraith, they’re just trinkets. Little pieces of gold to carry onto. For us, they’re everything. They represent the hard work and sacrifices we’ve made to get this far. All we need is one shot and I promise you, WE promise you… there will be a changing of the guard.”
“2024 is the year where the Kings of Flight are no longer waiting in the wings. This year, we are going to cement our place among the all-time great tag teams in the Imperial Wrestling Federation! On Tuesday, we figure out who’s at the top of the totem pole here! It’s either some crazy cult people, a couple little birdies… or the top dogs in this place. Nobody soars higher-”
“Nobody goes faster-”
“And nobody can bring it like the Kings.”
“There is going to be one hell of a tornado in Pittsburgh. We can fly right through it. Can you?"
A slight buzz in Charlie's pocket tears his attention away from the exhilarating match in the ring. He fishes through his jeans before pulling out his phone and answering the call.
"What's up?"
"Yo, you got the call about our next match, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be on my way-"
The ring bell interrupts his response. Wu-Tang Clan echoes through the ballroom as Van Ruth covers his free ear.
"Listen! I'll be on my way tomorrow. I had to take care of some stuff before I went anywhere. I have to go. I'm in a, uh, busy area!"
"Wait, C-"
Charlie ends the call, right as Cash gets up on the turnbuckles to celebrate. His gaze connects with Van Ruth's as he scans the crowd. A big grin shows the battle scars of the match: a nasty busted lip, with blood staining Cash's pearly whites. Charlie simply responds with a head nod and a thumbs up.
Well howdy there pardner.