Post by Jack Lockhart on May 25, 2013 12:03:39 GMT
It is to that one Walmart where JackHammer, the man who was one of the many staples of NCW, is heading. JackHammer is in the back of an SUV with a black leather interior. He is dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. On the shirt is an image of JackHammer, standing at left side profile. The JackHammer on the shirt is wearing his wrestling gear, a chest plate, bracers and greaves. In his left hand is a broad sword and in his right is a shield. A purple cape is draped over his shoulders and he is wearing a crowd. Behind the image are the words “The Chi-Town Terror” in bold golden letters
JackHammer is looking out the window as the SUV drives down the highway
“Allow me to explain to you how the world works Stephen Kingsley.”
He turns his head forward and lifts his arm above his head. He holds his hand parallel to his head.
“At the top of the pile, you have your main event stars. These are the people who get to be world champion. They are the people who bring in the biggest crowds, get the endorsements and move the most merchandise. These are the people that the company revolves around. They get the exposure, the perks, and the glory.”
JackHammer lowers his hand to his eyes.
“Next you have the mid-card level wrestlers. This is the stock that breeds the main event crowd. These people hold titles, but rarely ever reach world title level. At this level, you can get a third or second tier title. The occasionally form successful tag teams. These people can draw crowds, and sell merchandise. Not at a main event level, but still enough. You can get a pretty good house show crowd on these guys alone, as long as you throw in a title match.”
Again, he lowers his head. This time, it is mid chest.
“After that mid-card level, you have the curtain jerker. These people are not going to be champions. This class of wrestler may get a title shot here and there, and in a miracle, might even win one on a fluke, but it will be a short reign. Usually it is that third tier title. The only time they get a second tier or world shot is when the champion needs an easy victory. Occasionally, one or two from this stock may form a pretty good tag team or even a great one. There is even a chance that people at this level may get enough of a following to garner a t-shirt being made for them.”
“You have that rare group from the curtain jerkers that reach mid-card level and then flounder back to curtain jerker. However, in that rare moment, they attract a following which gets them at least one t-shirt or they can get a little more exposure.”
“Now main event wrestlers often bounce to mid-card level, and mid-carders can flounder to the curtain jerker level, but there is that one class that will never amount to anything. Every now and then, a wrestler falls down to this level. Yet there are those who start at this level and never break free of it.”
Leaning down in his seat, JackHammer lowers his hand as far down as he can, which is just about mid-calf.
“Once you hit that point, you get to the absolutely, pathetic, worthless nobodies. These are wastes of space wrestlers who no one cares about. They have no ability to move merchandise or draw a crowd. In all honesty, they may not even get a reaction. It is from here that most of the dead weight is cut when a company starts releasing people. They exist simply to elevate better talent with a simple win in an exhibition. They are nothing and will never be anything.”
JackHammer sits back up.
“Do you want to try and guess where in the hierarchy you fall Stephen Kingsley?”
“I mean it really shouldn’t be that hard for you to figure out. I mean, it’s pretty obvious where you fall on the food chain here in the IWF, especially in my eyes.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“No? Can’t figure it out? It really shouldn’t be that hard Stephen Kingsley. All you have to do is think of everything you will try to do in attempting to beat me Monday and that should help you figure out your place in the peeking order, as they call it.”
“Still can’t figure it out? Well allow me to tell you then Stephen Kingsley.”
“You, are part of that bottom rung of the ladder.”
JackHammer points at the camera.
“You are a no body in my eyes Stephen Kingsley. No one watching Sacrifice says, “oh I hope Stephen Kingsley is wrestling tonight”. You walk out to the ring and the crowd is silent for you. They neither love you nor do they hate you. To them, you are just a giant blah. You are a waste of space and you always will be.”
“You should know now, you will never be a champion. You will never get a t-shirt. You are not going to sell out an arena. The only reason you are even on Sacrifice was simply because the IWF didn’t have anyone else to qualified enough to compete on the show, like they ever did. No one actually thought you were good enough.”
“As long as we’re being honest, I don’t think anyone believes you can win this match either. I have to ask, do you honsetly think that you can beat me Stephen Kingsley? I am asking because I do not know and I care even less. You pathetic mince meat aren't even a flash in the pan. You are just dead weight and that is so very sad.”
Slowly, JackHammer takes his left hand and slides his thumb and fingers down his chin. As his hand lowers from the chin, he flexes and wiggles the fingers. He sounds a little upset.
“Frankly, Stephen Kingsley, the fact that I have to wrestle you at Sacrifice is insulting.”
“Stephen Kingsley is neither worth the time nor the effort I am going to put into beating you. And make no mistake about it, Stephen Kingsley; I am going to beat you, and make you suffer much pain. Do you really think the outcome of this match can be any different than me getting the win? No. It won’t be.”
“Stephen Kingsley this would be like a gnat trying to take down a lion. It’s like an ant trying to beat a dragon. The odds are so astronomically against you that even David himself would tell you to give up. This will not be a David beating Goliath story. No, it will be Goliath crushing David under his boot.”
“Look what you are up against fellas. I mean really take a good look at it.”
With both hands, JackHammer gestures to himself
“I am a former world champion. I accomplished more then you ever will. I am a damn legend here in this business. They call me The Chi-Town Terror because I am one of the best in the world and because sooner or later, I always get a championship around my waist. I sell out arenas and I move merchandise.”
“Yes, people pay to see me wrestle because they are hoping I will lose. I walk into just about every arena there is knowing full well that I will be booed right out of the building. They paid good money simply to hate me.”
“But you know what the really great irony is? As much as they hate me or love me, they will still buy the crap with my name on it. It is amazing. I made a few million dollars in my career in royalties because people in the crowd bought one of my shirts or my hat or an action figure of me. I made more money in t-shirts alone just in t-shirts than you will ever make in a year here in IWF.”
JackHammer gestures to the t-shirt just to point out the fact that he has t-shirts.
“As for you jaborini, the majority of your time in wrestling has been spent on your back, being pinned or losing in some other way. And when you lose to me at Sacrifice, you will have accomplished nothing. You will have proven to be exactly what I've called you, nothing.”
"You are nothing but a no talented waste of space Stephen Kingsley. You call yourself the Killer Croc, but you really are just the Killer joke.
JackHammer smiles his cruel, sadistic smile. His eyes gleam with that predatory glare.
“You are going to lose this match Stephen Kingsley. Nothing can change that. Nothing you do will prevent it. You are simply not good enough to beat me. You never have been and you never will be.
“The only thing you can do is at least try to put up something of a fight before I finish you. Who knows? I might actually break a sweat before beating one of you. I doubt it though. No Stephen Kingsley you will go to the ring, lose and honestly, beating you will do nothing for me. I mean sure it is a win, but I fail to see how beating you so pathetic as you you gets me closer to the IWF World Heavyweight Championship.”
“At Sacrifice in my hometown of Chicago, you are about to step into the biggest match of your life. This, a*sholes, is the closest that you will ever get to being in the ring with a guy who has been world champion. I am hoping that you will make it worth my time , but I doubt it. I’m sure the both of you haveheard this a lot, but you are not in my league.”
From inside the SUV, it is clear that the vehicle has stopped. JackHammer unbuckles the seatbelt and opens the door. He glances at the camera as he exits the vehicle.
“You never will be.”
On the back of JackHammer’s shirt is written in bold, gold letters “Optimus Maximus”. In Latin, this means “The best and the greatest”. The scene fades out.
Fade to black.............................................
JackHammer is looking out the window as the SUV drives down the highway
“Allow me to explain to you how the world works Stephen Kingsley.”
He turns his head forward and lifts his arm above his head. He holds his hand parallel to his head.
“At the top of the pile, you have your main event stars. These are the people who get to be world champion. They are the people who bring in the biggest crowds, get the endorsements and move the most merchandise. These are the people that the company revolves around. They get the exposure, the perks, and the glory.”
JackHammer lowers his hand to his eyes.
“Next you have the mid-card level wrestlers. This is the stock that breeds the main event crowd. These people hold titles, but rarely ever reach world title level. At this level, you can get a third or second tier title. The occasionally form successful tag teams. These people can draw crowds, and sell merchandise. Not at a main event level, but still enough. You can get a pretty good house show crowd on these guys alone, as long as you throw in a title match.”
Again, he lowers his head. This time, it is mid chest.
“After that mid-card level, you have the curtain jerker. These people are not going to be champions. This class of wrestler may get a title shot here and there, and in a miracle, might even win one on a fluke, but it will be a short reign. Usually it is that third tier title. The only time they get a second tier or world shot is when the champion needs an easy victory. Occasionally, one or two from this stock may form a pretty good tag team or even a great one. There is even a chance that people at this level may get enough of a following to garner a t-shirt being made for them.”
“You have that rare group from the curtain jerkers that reach mid-card level and then flounder back to curtain jerker. However, in that rare moment, they attract a following which gets them at least one t-shirt or they can get a little more exposure.”
“Now main event wrestlers often bounce to mid-card level, and mid-carders can flounder to the curtain jerker level, but there is that one class that will never amount to anything. Every now and then, a wrestler falls down to this level. Yet there are those who start at this level and never break free of it.”
Leaning down in his seat, JackHammer lowers his hand as far down as he can, which is just about mid-calf.
“Once you hit that point, you get to the absolutely, pathetic, worthless nobodies. These are wastes of space wrestlers who no one cares about. They have no ability to move merchandise or draw a crowd. In all honesty, they may not even get a reaction. It is from here that most of the dead weight is cut when a company starts releasing people. They exist simply to elevate better talent with a simple win in an exhibition. They are nothing and will never be anything.”
JackHammer sits back up.
“Do you want to try and guess where in the hierarchy you fall Stephen Kingsley?”
“I mean it really shouldn’t be that hard for you to figure out. I mean, it’s pretty obvious where you fall on the food chain here in the IWF, especially in my eyes.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“No? Can’t figure it out? It really shouldn’t be that hard Stephen Kingsley. All you have to do is think of everything you will try to do in attempting to beat me Monday and that should help you figure out your place in the peeking order, as they call it.”
“Still can’t figure it out? Well allow me to tell you then Stephen Kingsley.”
“You, are part of that bottom rung of the ladder.”
JackHammer points at the camera.
“You are a no body in my eyes Stephen Kingsley. No one watching Sacrifice says, “oh I hope Stephen Kingsley is wrestling tonight”. You walk out to the ring and the crowd is silent for you. They neither love you nor do they hate you. To them, you are just a giant blah. You are a waste of space and you always will be.”
“You should know now, you will never be a champion. You will never get a t-shirt. You are not going to sell out an arena. The only reason you are even on Sacrifice was simply because the IWF didn’t have anyone else to qualified enough to compete on the show, like they ever did. No one actually thought you were good enough.”
“As long as we’re being honest, I don’t think anyone believes you can win this match either. I have to ask, do you honsetly think that you can beat me Stephen Kingsley? I am asking because I do not know and I care even less. You pathetic mince meat aren't even a flash in the pan. You are just dead weight and that is so very sad.”
Slowly, JackHammer takes his left hand and slides his thumb and fingers down his chin. As his hand lowers from the chin, he flexes and wiggles the fingers. He sounds a little upset.
“Frankly, Stephen Kingsley, the fact that I have to wrestle you at Sacrifice is insulting.”
“Stephen Kingsley is neither worth the time nor the effort I am going to put into beating you. And make no mistake about it, Stephen Kingsley; I am going to beat you, and make you suffer much pain. Do you really think the outcome of this match can be any different than me getting the win? No. It won’t be.”
“Stephen Kingsley this would be like a gnat trying to take down a lion. It’s like an ant trying to beat a dragon. The odds are so astronomically against you that even David himself would tell you to give up. This will not be a David beating Goliath story. No, it will be Goliath crushing David under his boot.”
“Look what you are up against fellas. I mean really take a good look at it.”
With both hands, JackHammer gestures to himself
“I am a former world champion. I accomplished more then you ever will. I am a damn legend here in this business. They call me The Chi-Town Terror because I am one of the best in the world and because sooner or later, I always get a championship around my waist. I sell out arenas and I move merchandise.”
“Yes, people pay to see me wrestle because they are hoping I will lose. I walk into just about every arena there is knowing full well that I will be booed right out of the building. They paid good money simply to hate me.”
“But you know what the really great irony is? As much as they hate me or love me, they will still buy the crap with my name on it. It is amazing. I made a few million dollars in my career in royalties because people in the crowd bought one of my shirts or my hat or an action figure of me. I made more money in t-shirts alone just in t-shirts than you will ever make in a year here in IWF.”
JackHammer gestures to the t-shirt just to point out the fact that he has t-shirts.
“As for you jaborini, the majority of your time in wrestling has been spent on your back, being pinned or losing in some other way. And when you lose to me at Sacrifice, you will have accomplished nothing. You will have proven to be exactly what I've called you, nothing.”
"You are nothing but a no talented waste of space Stephen Kingsley. You call yourself the Killer Croc, but you really are just the Killer joke.
JackHammer smiles his cruel, sadistic smile. His eyes gleam with that predatory glare.
“You are going to lose this match Stephen Kingsley. Nothing can change that. Nothing you do will prevent it. You are simply not good enough to beat me. You never have been and you never will be.
“The only thing you can do is at least try to put up something of a fight before I finish you. Who knows? I might actually break a sweat before beating one of you. I doubt it though. No Stephen Kingsley you will go to the ring, lose and honestly, beating you will do nothing for me. I mean sure it is a win, but I fail to see how beating you so pathetic as you you gets me closer to the IWF World Heavyweight Championship.”
“At Sacrifice in my hometown of Chicago, you are about to step into the biggest match of your life. This, a*sholes, is the closest that you will ever get to being in the ring with a guy who has been world champion. I am hoping that you will make it worth my time , but I doubt it. I’m sure the both of you haveheard this a lot, but you are not in my league.”
From inside the SUV, it is clear that the vehicle has stopped. JackHammer unbuckles the seatbelt and opens the door. He glances at the camera as he exits the vehicle.
“You never will be.”
On the back of JackHammer’s shirt is written in bold, gold letters “Optimus Maximus”. In Latin, this means “The best and the greatest”. The scene fades out.
Fade to black.............................................
Well howdy there pardner.