Post by King on Nov 19, 2024 5:59:49 GMT
A full day before Survival Of The Fittest, inside of American Airlines Center, in Dallas, Texas; the IWF crew has erected the steel cage around the ring ahead of the pay-per-view Sunday as a bit of a test run, wanting to ensure everything is set for the World Tag Team Championship match. The building is mostly empty for the moment, sans for a young man standing behind the camera as he captures footage of the Black Widow, Stephen Terrella and Portia standing inside of the cage.
"The steel cage is one of the most historic stipulations in wrestling history. Sixteen-foot-high panels of unforgiving steel," Portia remarks, gazing into the lights to glimpse the cage's summit, "surround the ring on all sides, with the potential to shred human flesh. Built to keep people in just as much as it is built to keep people out, this one-ton-plus of metal shortens careers with every collision the human body makes with it. The only way to win is to escape it."
"Columnists, wrestling podcasters, our own broadcasters; they're all going to try to sell you on the idea that in a structure like this, anyone could win. That's their job. Hope sells, and the idea is to cash in on the chaos and the carnage that takes place in this type of environment. "
"They're going to try to sell you on RAM's youth, and how he is on the cusp of finally tapping into all of that unrealized potential in front of his home state fans." Portia snickers, having heard that story many times before.
"They're going to try to sell you on Nick Knight's determination to ensure Stephen and the Black Widow here," Portia gestures to Terrella and Cvetkova, "do not leave the cage with the World Tag Team Champions, and how that could carry him and RAM to tag team gold."
"They're going to want to sell you on the sheer size of Cyrus Daniels, and the how the ferocity of his strikes make him tailor made to survive within the confines of this cage."
"They will even want to sell you on Vivienne Daniels," the name rolls off of Portia's tongue with disgust, "ability to take a beating, and how that resilience could propel her to gold once again."
"More than anything though, they're going to try to sell you on Bella Morte's love story, and how they'd die for each other in this cage. They'll remind you of how they've already beaten Stephen and the Black Widow to become the champions, earning their place on top of the mountain, where they'll stay."
"The smart ones might even sell you on Savage By Nature. Stephen and the Black Widow are the former champions." Portia glances at Stephen, who is standing to her left with his arms folded across his chest. "When it comes to tag team wrestling, only three men have held one of those belts twice, and my man happens to be one of them. He has more tag team experience than anyone in this match." Portia casts a quick look Cvetkova's way, presenting her with the turn of a hand. "Couple that with the Black Widow's thirst for blood, and it should be easy to see how good this team is. And the cage?"
------------------------------
The early morning sun sneaks a peek through the jet-black curtains draping Brandy's bedroom window. After a night of heavy drinking, the sun's warmth is of absolutely no comfort. She rolls over in bed, trying to face away from the sunrays' reach. Not two minutes later, her phone vibrates on the stand beside her bed. Firmly in the grips of sleep inertia, she fumbles her hand over the phone, trying to silence what she perceives as it's pounding vibrations.
A moment of silence.
Less than a minute later, the phone vibrates again. Half-awake and suffering from a brutal headache, the Black Widow unleashes a primal growl. She reaches out from beneath the covers, feeling around to try to disconnect the charger from her phone. After rolling over onto her back with phone in hand, her eyes are once again assaulted by the sun's ray. She rubs at her eyes; her vision slowly coming into focus as she stares at her phone.
"Fuck," the Black Widow mutters. Her fingers furiously jump from key to key on her phone.
She flings the phone onto the stand and sits up at the edge of the bed. The Black Widow sweeps her hair from her face. She remains motionless for a few moments, feeling her head pound. A cigarette might fix this, so she reaches for the open pack on the stand and pops one in her mouth to light up. The phone starts with a chain of vibrations. Brandy reads the messages.
Brandy exhales, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. She goes at the keys on her phone once again.
The Black Widow blocks the number on her phone.
------------------------------
The Black Widow approaches the cage, and consequently, the camera as well. She laces her fingers through the cage, giving the fencing a pull. "I know what it's like to be locked in a cage; you see, I've felt that way for most of my life. Everyone wants to tell you who they think you are, or what you're supposed to be. The judging eyes, the sideways glances; your every action on full display for a world that doesn't give a damn. So, this... this is just a chance to be locked in a cage and strike back. I don't fear that; I delight in it. Maybe that makes me a little insane, but insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.”
Terrella, who had been gazing down at the canvas with his head lowered, looks up and aggressively strokes his chin. "And maybe I ain't as fucking comfortable as Cyrus with being caged, being I didn't have ten years practice; but I am the motherfucker, that beat the motherfucker, that beat the motherfucker that invented the Death Cage! Go back, since the day I got here, no one has had as many violent stip matches as me! I know what this shit is. I know what I'm walking into. This is home to me."
"That's what the smart people will try to sell you on," Portia says, "and you should buy it."
"If you need any more proof than that though, allow me to remind you what happened the last time everyone that is going to be in this cage tomorrow was in a ring together. That's right, a couple miles down the road from here, Savage By Nature carried Bella Morte to a win over Cyrus, Vivienne, Nick and RAM in that little eight-person tag. My man pinned RAM clean in the middle of the ring." Portia sports a smug smile, knowing full well the role she played in that.
"Knight, that's the piece of shit you're bringing into this as a partner, too. And thing is," Terrella says, holding his hand chest-high, with his thumb and first two fingers loosely extended, while the other two are slightly curled, "I thought you fucking knew better. We take you out. You fight and you claw your way back like a roach refusing to die, only when you get your chance to even the score, you scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel for someone to have your back. You bring a kid into this that's fucked in his head, and you toss his ass in the water with sharks."
"And they call me the asshole." Terrella smirks.
"You know what we'll do to that kid, Knight. He tries to talk the fucking talk, but at the end of the day, kid is still latched onto Fiona's tit. Life gets a little hard, and he breaks. He couldn't even stop himself from quitting when he was ready to quit on life I just ain't figured out if you're too stupid to fucking notice, or to self-serving to give a damn. But when we finish the job he tried to start, that's on you, Nick."
Terrella points at the camera "But you can bet your ass, I'm personally going to finally put you in the ground beside him."
"See," Portia says, "I told you all earlier what they were going to try to sell you- that hope. Hope is fun. It inspires people. Let me explain to you what will be, though: because a broken man, a loser, a convict, a traitorous bitch and two dead girls together aren't enough to keep Savage By Nature from surviving the cage and once again becoming the tag team champions of the world."
"That's not a sell; but if you don't believe me, just buy the PPV and watch."
"The steel cage is one of the most historic stipulations in wrestling history. Sixteen-foot-high panels of unforgiving steel," Portia remarks, gazing into the lights to glimpse the cage's summit, "surround the ring on all sides, with the potential to shred human flesh. Built to keep people in just as much as it is built to keep people out, this one-ton-plus of metal shortens careers with every collision the human body makes with it. The only way to win is to escape it."
"Columnists, wrestling podcasters, our own broadcasters; they're all going to try to sell you on the idea that in a structure like this, anyone could win. That's their job. Hope sells, and the idea is to cash in on the chaos and the carnage that takes place in this type of environment. "
"They're going to try to sell you on RAM's youth, and how he is on the cusp of finally tapping into all of that unrealized potential in front of his home state fans." Portia snickers, having heard that story many times before.
"They're going to try to sell you on Nick Knight's determination to ensure Stephen and the Black Widow here," Portia gestures to Terrella and Cvetkova, "do not leave the cage with the World Tag Team Champions, and how that could carry him and RAM to tag team gold."
"They're going to want to sell you on the sheer size of Cyrus Daniels, and the how the ferocity of his strikes make him tailor made to survive within the confines of this cage."
"They will even want to sell you on Vivienne Daniels," the name rolls off of Portia's tongue with disgust, "ability to take a beating, and how that resilience could propel her to gold once again."
"More than anything though, they're going to try to sell you on Bella Morte's love story, and how they'd die for each other in this cage. They'll remind you of how they've already beaten Stephen and the Black Widow to become the champions, earning their place on top of the mountain, where they'll stay."
"The smart ones might even sell you on Savage By Nature. Stephen and the Black Widow are the former champions." Portia glances at Stephen, who is standing to her left with his arms folded across his chest. "When it comes to tag team wrestling, only three men have held one of those belts twice, and my man happens to be one of them. He has more tag team experience than anyone in this match." Portia casts a quick look Cvetkova's way, presenting her with the turn of a hand. "Couple that with the Black Widow's thirst for blood, and it should be easy to see how good this team is. And the cage?"
------------------------------
The early morning sun sneaks a peek through the jet-black curtains draping Brandy's bedroom window. After a night of heavy drinking, the sun's warmth is of absolutely no comfort. She rolls over in bed, trying to face away from the sunrays' reach. Not two minutes later, her phone vibrates on the stand beside her bed. Firmly in the grips of sleep inertia, she fumbles her hand over the phone, trying to silence what she perceives as it's pounding vibrations.
A moment of silence.
Less than a minute later, the phone vibrates again. Half-awake and suffering from a brutal headache, the Black Widow unleashes a primal growl. She reaches out from beneath the covers, feeling around to try to disconnect the charger from her phone. After rolling over onto her back with phone in hand, her eyes are once again assaulted by the sun's ray. She rubs at her eyes; her vision slowly coming into focus as she stares at her phone.
702-555-8199: Hey Dove. I know you will become a champion again on Sunday.
702-555-8199: Could you get your old man a ticket? I want to see you.
702-555-8199: Could you get your old man a ticket? I want to see you.
"Fuck," the Black Widow mutters. Her fingers furiously jump from key to key on her phone.
206-555-0120: NO! FUCK OFF!
She flings the phone onto the stand and sits up at the edge of the bed. The Black Widow sweeps her hair from her face. She remains motionless for a few moments, feeling her head pound. A cigarette might fix this, so she reaches for the open pack on the stand and pops one in her mouth to light up. The phone starts with a chain of vibrations. Brandy reads the messages.
702-555-8199: I'm not asking you to forgive me for the things I've done.
702-555-8199: I was a terrible father.
702-555-8199: Still am.
702-555-8199: I just want to talk to you.
702-555-8199: I am so proud of you. Keep being better than your old man.
702-555-8199: I was a terrible father.
702-555-8199: Still am.
702-555-8199: I just want to talk to you.
702-555-8199: I am so proud of you. Keep being better than your old man.
Brandy exhales, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. She goes at the keys on her phone once again.
206-555-0120: YOU were never there!
206-555-0120: Elena is a bitch but you still were never there!
206-555-0120: What makes you think I need or want you now!?!?!? FUCK OFF!!!
206-555-0120: Elena is a bitch but you still were never there!
206-555-0120: What makes you think I need or want you now!?!?!? FUCK OFF!!!
The Black Widow blocks the number on her phone.
------------------------------
The Black Widow approaches the cage, and consequently, the camera as well. She laces her fingers through the cage, giving the fencing a pull. "I know what it's like to be locked in a cage; you see, I've felt that way for most of my life. Everyone wants to tell you who they think you are, or what you're supposed to be. The judging eyes, the sideways glances; your every action on full display for a world that doesn't give a damn. So, this... this is just a chance to be locked in a cage and strike back. I don't fear that; I delight in it. Maybe that makes me a little insane, but insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.”
Terrella, who had been gazing down at the canvas with his head lowered, looks up and aggressively strokes his chin. "And maybe I ain't as fucking comfortable as Cyrus with being caged, being I didn't have ten years practice; but I am the motherfucker, that beat the motherfucker, that beat the motherfucker that invented the Death Cage! Go back, since the day I got here, no one has had as many violent stip matches as me! I know what this shit is. I know what I'm walking into. This is home to me."
"That's what the smart people will try to sell you on," Portia says, "and you should buy it."
"If you need any more proof than that though, allow me to remind you what happened the last time everyone that is going to be in this cage tomorrow was in a ring together. That's right, a couple miles down the road from here, Savage By Nature carried Bella Morte to a win over Cyrus, Vivienne, Nick and RAM in that little eight-person tag. My man pinned RAM clean in the middle of the ring." Portia sports a smug smile, knowing full well the role she played in that.
"Knight, that's the piece of shit you're bringing into this as a partner, too. And thing is," Terrella says, holding his hand chest-high, with his thumb and first two fingers loosely extended, while the other two are slightly curled, "I thought you fucking knew better. We take you out. You fight and you claw your way back like a roach refusing to die, only when you get your chance to even the score, you scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel for someone to have your back. You bring a kid into this that's fucked in his head, and you toss his ass in the water with sharks."
"And they call me the asshole." Terrella smirks.
"You know what we'll do to that kid, Knight. He tries to talk the fucking talk, but at the end of the day, kid is still latched onto Fiona's tit. Life gets a little hard, and he breaks. He couldn't even stop himself from quitting when he was ready to quit on life I just ain't figured out if you're too stupid to fucking notice, or to self-serving to give a damn. But when we finish the job he tried to start, that's on you, Nick."
Terrella points at the camera "But you can bet your ass, I'm personally going to finally put you in the ground beside him."
"See," Portia says, "I told you all earlier what they were going to try to sell you- that hope. Hope is fun. It inspires people. Let me explain to you what will be, though: because a broken man, a loser, a convict, a traitorous bitch and two dead girls together aren't enough to keep Savage By Nature from surviving the cage and once again becoming the tag team champions of the world."
"That's not a sell; but if you don't believe me, just buy the PPV and watch."
Well howdy there pardner.