Post by John Barber on Apr 19, 2014 3:26:02 GMT
OOC: The story told in this promo is based on a true story passed down in the family
Well shitfire, IWF. Here we go once again at the monthly pay-per-view and things have most definitely been looking up for the Florida Cracker this month. Win after win. Except for that tag team match right after the last pay-per-view, Iāve put down everyone placed in my path. Iāve been getting it done every week and finally believe I have put that Jimmy Zane tomfoolery behind me. The IWF Invictus championship? A belt that hasnāt even technically been defended yet and yours truly has the chance to become itās second titleholder. To do that, the Florida Cracker has to take on Kristoff Liam Bates. Not only a dastardly name, but the man attached is dastardly as well. Will my win streak end at whatever the name of this here pay-per-view will be called? Nah, donāt count on it. Iām just getting warmed upā¦
The scene opens up in a dimly lit room. All that can be seen are a couple of plush, fancy red high-backed chairs. The kind you see on that there Masterpiece theatre show back in the day. A couple of men in three piece suits stroll onto the scene and they both stop in front of the chairs, slowly sitting down. They are none other than John Barber and his manager Billy. John looks half annoyed as he tugs at his collar where the tie seems to be practically choking him.
Billy on the other hand looks comfortable as he squints with one eye, holding the monocle into place that he wears on his face and he blows bubbles from a plastic pipe, trying to look sophisticated. John turns to Billy. He starts to say something but Billy holds a hand up to stop him.
Billy: I know what youāre going to say, John. āBilly, what the hell are we doing here?!ā
Billy looks at John who stares at him for a couple of seconds before gesturing for him to continue.
Billy: Well, Iām glad I pretended to be you asking me that, John. Itās simple. The fans have been fit to tied over one of your recent promos and how we aināt done it again.
John looks at Billy with a curious look on his face.
John Barber: What promo exactly are they referring to?
Billy slaps his knee as he answers.
Billy: The story time promo, John! The fans want to hear another John Barber story!
John scratches his head thinking.
John Barber: Iām having trouble figurinā out a story to tell, Billy. What you got in mind?
Billy: What about that one story your family passes down all the time and tells at the family gatherings?
John Barber: The injun story?
Billy: Yeah! The one about the Seminoles that killed your great-great-great-great grandfather!
John Barber: What does that have to do with IWF and my match with KLB?
Billy: Because! You didnāt see his promo earlier? He doesnāt think youāre hard enough to hang with him. He talks to you like youāve never dealt with monsters, like you donāt know pain. He talks like heās the only one with some kind of dark past, something to fear. He donāt know the Barber family, none of āem do John.
John looks off to the side for a few seconds and finally nods. He leans back in his chair and sighs audibly. The scene shimmers and moves around.
John Barber: BILLY! What I tell you last time?
The scene goes back to normal and Billy leans back from the camera again and sits back in his chair. Billy turns back to the camera as the scene for real switches out this time. We cut to the wilderness. Weāre along a big river and out in the distance you can see the smoke coming up from the chimney of a nearby homestead. The property is surrounded by a huge fence made of crisscrossed logs like you see in those old Westerns. A couple of packs of dogs roll around in the yard together, half-fighting and half-playing with each other. Cattle roam around in the pasture built inside the fence. Other farm animals can be seen as well, but thatās not whatās important to this scene.
The camera zooms out to reveal a small band of Seminole Indians slowly jogging up through the area, downwind of the dogs and out of sight of the house. The Indian in the front looks like a hardened warrior, the feathers and war paint look as if they just belong on this guy. Like he was born and bred solely for the purpose of looking like some badass Indian. The other four men hardly look it at all, they look like theyāre still boys, but they have an intensity and look about them as if they too should not be messed with. In reality, they are young bucks of their tribe out looking to prove to the rest of the tribe that they are finally men and ready to go out on the normal raiding parties that their people constantly go on.
Youāre probably wondering why the term ānormal raiding partiesā was used and youād be right to wonder. The reason why is because the purpose of this small band of warriors is out here for one purpose. To get revenge on Moses Edward Barber. All the local Indian tribes have grown over the years to hate this one white man, Moses Barber, or āMoseā as the white faces refer to him as. Mose has always been an asshole to the Seminole people since settling down in Florida by constantly stealing from them by driving their cattle away from their herds and taking them for his own. Mose and his group of men who participate in this form of cattle rustling continuously cause the Seminole people to be driven from their lands as a result. It became bad enough that this particular āwar partyā was sent out to do something about it.
Months earlier, the lead warrior and a couple of other braves were sent out for reconnaissance and came back with the unfortunate news that Mose had set up his property in such a way that due to both the fencing and the dogs in his yard, that getting close enough for a rifle shot or a tomahawk throw is next to impossible. Not to mention the fact that Mose was connected and had hired hands always near enough to chase off your average Indian threat. Upon further reconnaissance on Mose Barber, they finally discovered that his brother William Warren Barber, who lived nearby in the next county over (but still real close despite the county line between them). Unlike his brother Mose, Williamās property wasnāt quite set up as well. The braves of this war party made no more than a glance at the property of Mose Barber as they continued on towards Williamās place.
The scene cuts to another house down the road a good ways and we can only assume that itās the house of John Barberās direct ancestor, William Warren Barber. Why? Well probably because this is the story about him and also because thereās a man and woman in the bed doing it.
Billy: Dammit, John. Why do we always have to cut into a bedroom with your relatives or ancestors doing it?
John Barber: This is how the story was passed down, Billy.
The man and woman stop having sex long enough to look up at the ceiling as if they hear Billy and John talking.
Billy: Jeez, remind me to never show up for Barber family time when you guys get together for the holidays. Nothing but porn stories and all that.
John Barber: You want to hear the story or not?
Billy: Fine.
The man and woman eventually stop looking around and go back to doing it. Luckily for the kiddos watching this, theyāre doing it under the covers so they donāt know whatās really going on. The man and woman eventually finish and they lay there worn out. The early light of dawn had just started creeping in through the shade on the window and one of the dogs out in the yard starts whining.
William and his wife Susan look towards the direction of the window and ignore the sound for the most part at first while they lay there relaxing, but eventually after a few minutes, the sound gets to be too much.
Susan: Go get that mutt to shut up while I go check on the youngins!
William mutters to himself as he puts on some clothes and his boots before trudging outside. Susan quietly walks down the hall and peeks into the childrenās room before finally walking back down to her and Williamās bedroom. She starts tidying up the bedroom, fixing up the sheets when out of nowhere the distinct sound of a Cuban musket can be heard. Susanās eyes dart up to look out the window. Standing on top of a log is an Indian grinning at her as he reloads the musket. Her husband William staggers out in view of the window, holding his stomach.
Susan screams as she runs outside and catches William as he falls. He reaches up to her face feebly.
William: Iām done fer, woman. Get the kids and git. Now!
Susan looks up in terror as she notices that there are not one but five Indians. One of them stalks towards the back of the house as it hears a kid crying inside. The Indians start yelling out with war cries and the front door bursts open. Susan and Williamās daughter Rhoda comes running out, clutching a baby, her little brother, in her arms.
Rhoda: Ma! Itās Injuns, injuns everywhere!
Susan is still frozen with fear. The Indians pay her, Rhoda, or the baby no attention as they turn back to William, grinning. Susan finally snaps into action and grabs Rhoda and the three start hightailing it towards the direction of Mosesā house as quickly as possible, before the Indians change their mind about the women.
Once theyāre out of sight, one of the Indians stands there watching as William struggles to get back to his feet, the front of his shirt nothing but a red mess of blood. William looks the Indian who shot him in the belly right in the eye. The Indian smirks and his eyes dart behind William. Before William can turn, he feels a hand grab a handful of hair and pull his head back. Another Indian is back behind him. The Indian reaches to his belt and pulls up a tomahawk. He lets out a blood curdling war cry as he brings the axe to Williamās forehead. The scene cuts away as a second blood curdling scream can be heard coming from William. After that, silence.
The scene cuts up the road later on where Susan, now holding the baby and her daughter Rhoda are still running up the road, nearly out of breath when they catch sight of a group of men riding down the road. Susan cries a happy cry when she sees that itās Williamās brother Moses. Also with him are a couple of other relatives and Susan and Williamās oldest son, Francis.
Moses: What in theā¦Susan?
Susan: Itās Injuns! Injuns! Itās Injuns!
Susan starts telling Moses about what happened and that it was Indians that killed his brother and her husband, William.
Moses: You shore they was genu-ine Injuns? Theyās always reports about āem and ends up being cattle rustlers and nuthin more.
Susan: I sees āem with my own eyes, Mose! Theyās real injuns and they got Will!
Moses curses up a storm and tells the women to head to his place up the road. He sends one of the boys with them and kicks his horse into action followed by Francis and the rest of the men. Mosesā dogs follow close behind as they all hurry up the road after them. They eventually reach the homestead and Moses quickly hops down. He walks up towards the house and off to the side, spots a pool of blood, but no sign of his brother William. He sends a couple of the boys in the house, guns loaded as Moses himself quietly sneaks around the rest of the yard. He finally spots a pair of feet sticking out from behind a shed.
Moses slowly walks around to the spot and sees William lying naked, face down in the dirt. He shoves him over with his boot and instantly knows it actually was Indians. Scalped, bullet wound in the gut, three arrows to the pelvic area and the privates area is gone. Countless knife wounds. Moses yells out in rage. He goes into the house, grabs a bed sheet and rolls his brother up inside of it and brings him into the house. Francis walks up to his uncle Moses.
Francis: We gonna get these Injuns that did this to Pa?
Moses looks at Francis with a pissed off look on his face.
Moses: Bet my life on it we will.
The scene cuts back to the band of Indians who are quickly and quietly poling through the river they passed by earlier. The canoes they are in had been left nearby in an earlier reconnaissance mission in preparation for this day. The idea of canoeing back to the tribe is both for the sake of getting back as quickly as possible and also to keep the dogs from smelling them out since the trail would have ended at the water where they got into the canoe. Itās about a day later and the Indians are finally starting to relax, cheerful and happy to get back home after a successful mission. Moses will have gotten the message and the local tribes will feel a little bit better at all the thieving that Moses had done.
The war partyās leader had been having an uneasy feeling this entire trip back and had been surprised that they were making it back alive. Indian war parties not of significant size hadnāt been known to make it back without trouble, especially in this part of Florida. The sudden glint of the moon off of a metal musket barrel finally confirms the veteran Indianās fears right as the sound of a musket followed by three others going off and all but the veteran Indian drops before they can react. The final Indian in the war party manages to get his musket up and aims at one of the men, but before he can get a shot off, two of the men have already reloaded and both put a bullet each through the heart of the leader.
One of the menās boots stops the canoe and he pulls it to shore. He puts his boot back on the canoe as the men with him check to make sure all five are dead. The outline of the man can just slightly be made out and as he turns to the side, the face of Moses Edward Barber can be seen. He glances down at the dead Indians in the boat and spits a bit of tobacco onto one of the bodies. The scene cuts out.
====================
The scene finally cuts to a more familiar scene, back to the Barber homestead where IWFās own John Barber lives. He is standing beside of a large blue Dodge Ram truck. He is standing on the side of it, reaches in and hits the horn a couple of times. He looks towards the house.
John Barber: Come on, Billy! Itās time to head to the airport! We gotta get to the pay-per-view!
A voice comes from inside the house.
Billy: Imma coming! I gotta finish grabbing my gear. Be out in a minute!
John grins and sighs, shaking his head. He turns to the camera and holds his hands out.
John Barber: Well shitfire, if this aināt as good a time as any, how about we cut this here promo for the pay-per-view? The Invictus Championship. My first title shot in IWF. Itās against this KLB feller and whoo buddy, he seems like an ornery sumbitch. I know that youāve probably been sitting there Mr. Bates watching this promo so far thinking what in the hell does his ancestor getting scalped by a damn Indian have anything to do with our match?
But see, I expect a smart guy such as yerself to figure it out pretty easily, but for anyone wonderingā¦it has EVERYTHING to do with my match. That there story has been passed down for the past few generations in my family. My great-great-great-great grandfather William Warren Barber was scalped by Indians. Even in the face of certain death, he didnāt back down. He made sure his family got away and didnāt die like he knew he was about to. Even with a gut of buckshot, he still put one foot in front of the other. That there story showed the hardiness of the Barber family. It showed what kind of attitude I was raised with.
We Barbers donāt back down. We donāt give a damn what is put in front of us, because we put each foot in front of the other until we get where we need to be. Yeah, Iām facing a dangerous fella in KLB. Heās a veteran in this wrasslin business and this company of IWF. Heās not stranger to championships. Heās beaten champions before here. Yeah, Iāve held a championship in some other company, but itās nothing like what KLB has done. He tells people that John Barber isnāt prepared. He doesnāt know what heās walking into, but it makes me think a little and wonder how he thinks heās prepared. It makes me think about how he knows what heās walking into. How many Florida Crackers have you faced, Mr. Bates? How many John Barbers have you faced before? Yeah, you can respond that youāve faced plenty of green under the gills wrasslers in this business and put them down, but the thing you havenāt done is put ME down. John Barber has never lost to Kristoff Liam Bates. That may happen this Sunday at the pay-per-view or the Florida Cracker may continue to stun the fans and come out on top with another victory and his first championship.
KLB talks about being the first Invictus champion and the road heās traveled to make it here as the Invictus champion. He talks about Mason St. Croix and Bob Pooler and how he beat them for the titles that make the Invictus championship. He runs his mouth about how he destroyed these two people, but I ask what in the world difference does that make? Am I Mason St. Croix? No. Am I Bob Pooler? No. I wasnāt even part of this company when he faced Mason. I was in my third match with this company when he faced Bob Pooler. I wasnāt even part of this company when KLB won match after match, so none of it even matters to me. Maybe if Iād been here for the last six months would either of those wins mean a thing to me.
They donāt because what matters is in the here and now. In the here and now, itās obvious which of us struggles to win matches and who doesnāt. Yeah, you won your big match at High Stakes, but ever since then youāve stared up in the ring as the other wrassler or team in the match had their hand raised and you walked to the back defeated, another loss on your record. Yeah Sephiroth lost you both of your tag team matches and you try to pawn that off on him as if that is not a reflection upon yourself. But see, this is where youāre wrong. Yeah, I have lost a couple of tag matches as well, but when Iām thrown into steel steps, laid out as a result and my partner LITERALLY TRIPS over our opponents to get pinned and then another time attacks me for no reason, itās an entirely different situation. I didnāt pick Jimmy Zane as my partner in those matches. You on the other hand picked Sephiroth du Lac to team with you.
Someone as intelligent as you seem to be should be able to see whatās going on with your tag team partner. In situations like yours, youāre about as much to blame as he is for these losses. I shrugged off those losses and came back to win three in a row. Iāve even been in hardcore and invictus matches even if you say differently so Iām also no stranger in IWF alone to the type of match weāll be in this Sunday. Like Iāve been saying for the past couple of minutes, Iām a Barber. I donāt back down. You can come at me with everything you got, everything you can pick up and everything you can carry, but I wonāt back down. Not because Iām green and stupid, no. Because Iām a stubborn sumbitch from Florida. Iām a Florida Cracker and I aim to show you what Iām all about in that there ring.
Our match Sunday is going to be beautiful, Invictus rules or not. After I won my match Monday, the commentators said our match at the pay-per-view will be some of the best technical wrassling on the planet and I couldnāt agree more. I look forward to taking you on, testing myself against one of the premiere technical wrasslers in our company. I may be green, but I know exactly what Iām walking into here. Iāve studied the tapes, Iāve taken notes. I know whatās going on here. Iām not afraid of the violence. Iām not afraid of the blood. Iām not afraid of the pain. I welcome them. Iām a southern boy through and through. A Florida Cracker donāt back down from nothing and I sure as hell aināt backing down from you Kristoff Liam Bates. That there Invictus championship donāt belong around your waist. You love having it there because it allows you to take out your frustration and aggression out on the world around you. It gives you an excuse to hurt people, to maim people, to break them. That aināt happening here. You say you aināt writing me off, but that I donāt understand what Iām walking into here. The last company I was in, all the matches was no disqualification. Weapons was allowed. Pure violence was allowed. I may not be as experienced in it as you, but I aināt no green foot in this type of match. And besides, experience does not always equal a win here. Ask Caleb White, Jimmy Zane, or Ryan Shane if it does. Theyāll all tell you the same damn story, that you best not cross a Florida Cracker.
Next month marks my one-year anniversary in this here wrasslin business and what better way to start it than as the Invictus champion. You aināt been doing so good here the last few weeks while Iāve finally found my footing and Iām gaining ground. Like my last three opponents, you about to find out what a Florida Cracker is all about!
Just promise me one thing, Mr. Bates. When I make you tap outā¦.donāt take it personal now ya hear?
John Barber smirks at the camera as the scene fades to black.
Well shitfire, IWF. Here we go once again at the monthly pay-per-view and things have most definitely been looking up for the Florida Cracker this month. Win after win. Except for that tag team match right after the last pay-per-view, Iāve put down everyone placed in my path. Iāve been getting it done every week and finally believe I have put that Jimmy Zane tomfoolery behind me. The IWF Invictus championship? A belt that hasnāt even technically been defended yet and yours truly has the chance to become itās second titleholder. To do that, the Florida Cracker has to take on Kristoff Liam Bates. Not only a dastardly name, but the man attached is dastardly as well. Will my win streak end at whatever the name of this here pay-per-view will be called? Nah, donāt count on it. Iām just getting warmed upā¦
The scene opens up in a dimly lit room. All that can be seen are a couple of plush, fancy red high-backed chairs. The kind you see on that there Masterpiece theatre show back in the day. A couple of men in three piece suits stroll onto the scene and they both stop in front of the chairs, slowly sitting down. They are none other than John Barber and his manager Billy. John looks half annoyed as he tugs at his collar where the tie seems to be practically choking him.
Billy on the other hand looks comfortable as he squints with one eye, holding the monocle into place that he wears on his face and he blows bubbles from a plastic pipe, trying to look sophisticated. John turns to Billy. He starts to say something but Billy holds a hand up to stop him.
Billy: I know what youāre going to say, John. āBilly, what the hell are we doing here?!ā
Billy looks at John who stares at him for a couple of seconds before gesturing for him to continue.
Billy: Well, Iām glad I pretended to be you asking me that, John. Itās simple. The fans have been fit to tied over one of your recent promos and how we aināt done it again.
John looks at Billy with a curious look on his face.
John Barber: What promo exactly are they referring to?
Billy slaps his knee as he answers.
Billy: The story time promo, John! The fans want to hear another John Barber story!
John scratches his head thinking.
John Barber: Iām having trouble figurinā out a story to tell, Billy. What you got in mind?
Billy: What about that one story your family passes down all the time and tells at the family gatherings?
John Barber: The injun story?
Billy: Yeah! The one about the Seminoles that killed your great-great-great-great grandfather!
John Barber: What does that have to do with IWF and my match with KLB?
Billy: Because! You didnāt see his promo earlier? He doesnāt think youāre hard enough to hang with him. He talks to you like youāve never dealt with monsters, like you donāt know pain. He talks like heās the only one with some kind of dark past, something to fear. He donāt know the Barber family, none of āem do John.
John looks off to the side for a few seconds and finally nods. He leans back in his chair and sighs audibly. The scene shimmers and moves around.
John Barber: BILLY! What I tell you last time?
The scene goes back to normal and Billy leans back from the camera again and sits back in his chair. Billy turns back to the camera as the scene for real switches out this time. We cut to the wilderness. Weāre along a big river and out in the distance you can see the smoke coming up from the chimney of a nearby homestead. The property is surrounded by a huge fence made of crisscrossed logs like you see in those old Westerns. A couple of packs of dogs roll around in the yard together, half-fighting and half-playing with each other. Cattle roam around in the pasture built inside the fence. Other farm animals can be seen as well, but thatās not whatās important to this scene.
The camera zooms out to reveal a small band of Seminole Indians slowly jogging up through the area, downwind of the dogs and out of sight of the house. The Indian in the front looks like a hardened warrior, the feathers and war paint look as if they just belong on this guy. Like he was born and bred solely for the purpose of looking like some badass Indian. The other four men hardly look it at all, they look like theyāre still boys, but they have an intensity and look about them as if they too should not be messed with. In reality, they are young bucks of their tribe out looking to prove to the rest of the tribe that they are finally men and ready to go out on the normal raiding parties that their people constantly go on.
Youāre probably wondering why the term ānormal raiding partiesā was used and youād be right to wonder. The reason why is because the purpose of this small band of warriors is out here for one purpose. To get revenge on Moses Edward Barber. All the local Indian tribes have grown over the years to hate this one white man, Moses Barber, or āMoseā as the white faces refer to him as. Mose has always been an asshole to the Seminole people since settling down in Florida by constantly stealing from them by driving their cattle away from their herds and taking them for his own. Mose and his group of men who participate in this form of cattle rustling continuously cause the Seminole people to be driven from their lands as a result. It became bad enough that this particular āwar partyā was sent out to do something about it.
Months earlier, the lead warrior and a couple of other braves were sent out for reconnaissance and came back with the unfortunate news that Mose had set up his property in such a way that due to both the fencing and the dogs in his yard, that getting close enough for a rifle shot or a tomahawk throw is next to impossible. Not to mention the fact that Mose was connected and had hired hands always near enough to chase off your average Indian threat. Upon further reconnaissance on Mose Barber, they finally discovered that his brother William Warren Barber, who lived nearby in the next county over (but still real close despite the county line between them). Unlike his brother Mose, Williamās property wasnāt quite set up as well. The braves of this war party made no more than a glance at the property of Mose Barber as they continued on towards Williamās place.
The scene cuts to another house down the road a good ways and we can only assume that itās the house of John Barberās direct ancestor, William Warren Barber. Why? Well probably because this is the story about him and also because thereās a man and woman in the bed doing it.
Billy: Dammit, John. Why do we always have to cut into a bedroom with your relatives or ancestors doing it?
John Barber: This is how the story was passed down, Billy.
The man and woman stop having sex long enough to look up at the ceiling as if they hear Billy and John talking.
Billy: Jeez, remind me to never show up for Barber family time when you guys get together for the holidays. Nothing but porn stories and all that.
John Barber: You want to hear the story or not?
Billy: Fine.
The man and woman eventually stop looking around and go back to doing it. Luckily for the kiddos watching this, theyāre doing it under the covers so they donāt know whatās really going on. The man and woman eventually finish and they lay there worn out. The early light of dawn had just started creeping in through the shade on the window and one of the dogs out in the yard starts whining.
William and his wife Susan look towards the direction of the window and ignore the sound for the most part at first while they lay there relaxing, but eventually after a few minutes, the sound gets to be too much.
Susan: Go get that mutt to shut up while I go check on the youngins!
William mutters to himself as he puts on some clothes and his boots before trudging outside. Susan quietly walks down the hall and peeks into the childrenās room before finally walking back down to her and Williamās bedroom. She starts tidying up the bedroom, fixing up the sheets when out of nowhere the distinct sound of a Cuban musket can be heard. Susanās eyes dart up to look out the window. Standing on top of a log is an Indian grinning at her as he reloads the musket. Her husband William staggers out in view of the window, holding his stomach.
Susan screams as she runs outside and catches William as he falls. He reaches up to her face feebly.
William: Iām done fer, woman. Get the kids and git. Now!
Susan looks up in terror as she notices that there are not one but five Indians. One of them stalks towards the back of the house as it hears a kid crying inside. The Indians start yelling out with war cries and the front door bursts open. Susan and Williamās daughter Rhoda comes running out, clutching a baby, her little brother, in her arms.
Rhoda: Ma! Itās Injuns, injuns everywhere!
Susan is still frozen with fear. The Indians pay her, Rhoda, or the baby no attention as they turn back to William, grinning. Susan finally snaps into action and grabs Rhoda and the three start hightailing it towards the direction of Mosesā house as quickly as possible, before the Indians change their mind about the women.
Once theyāre out of sight, one of the Indians stands there watching as William struggles to get back to his feet, the front of his shirt nothing but a red mess of blood. William looks the Indian who shot him in the belly right in the eye. The Indian smirks and his eyes dart behind William. Before William can turn, he feels a hand grab a handful of hair and pull his head back. Another Indian is back behind him. The Indian reaches to his belt and pulls up a tomahawk. He lets out a blood curdling war cry as he brings the axe to Williamās forehead. The scene cuts away as a second blood curdling scream can be heard coming from William. After that, silence.
The scene cuts up the road later on where Susan, now holding the baby and her daughter Rhoda are still running up the road, nearly out of breath when they catch sight of a group of men riding down the road. Susan cries a happy cry when she sees that itās Williamās brother Moses. Also with him are a couple of other relatives and Susan and Williamās oldest son, Francis.
Moses: What in theā¦Susan?
Susan: Itās Injuns! Injuns! Itās Injuns!
Susan starts telling Moses about what happened and that it was Indians that killed his brother and her husband, William.
Moses: You shore they was genu-ine Injuns? Theyās always reports about āem and ends up being cattle rustlers and nuthin more.
Susan: I sees āem with my own eyes, Mose! Theyās real injuns and they got Will!
Moses curses up a storm and tells the women to head to his place up the road. He sends one of the boys with them and kicks his horse into action followed by Francis and the rest of the men. Mosesā dogs follow close behind as they all hurry up the road after them. They eventually reach the homestead and Moses quickly hops down. He walks up towards the house and off to the side, spots a pool of blood, but no sign of his brother William. He sends a couple of the boys in the house, guns loaded as Moses himself quietly sneaks around the rest of the yard. He finally spots a pair of feet sticking out from behind a shed.
Moses slowly walks around to the spot and sees William lying naked, face down in the dirt. He shoves him over with his boot and instantly knows it actually was Indians. Scalped, bullet wound in the gut, three arrows to the pelvic area and the privates area is gone. Countless knife wounds. Moses yells out in rage. He goes into the house, grabs a bed sheet and rolls his brother up inside of it and brings him into the house. Francis walks up to his uncle Moses.
Francis: We gonna get these Injuns that did this to Pa?
Moses looks at Francis with a pissed off look on his face.
Moses: Bet my life on it we will.
The scene cuts back to the band of Indians who are quickly and quietly poling through the river they passed by earlier. The canoes they are in had been left nearby in an earlier reconnaissance mission in preparation for this day. The idea of canoeing back to the tribe is both for the sake of getting back as quickly as possible and also to keep the dogs from smelling them out since the trail would have ended at the water where they got into the canoe. Itās about a day later and the Indians are finally starting to relax, cheerful and happy to get back home after a successful mission. Moses will have gotten the message and the local tribes will feel a little bit better at all the thieving that Moses had done.
The war partyās leader had been having an uneasy feeling this entire trip back and had been surprised that they were making it back alive. Indian war parties not of significant size hadnāt been known to make it back without trouble, especially in this part of Florida. The sudden glint of the moon off of a metal musket barrel finally confirms the veteran Indianās fears right as the sound of a musket followed by three others going off and all but the veteran Indian drops before they can react. The final Indian in the war party manages to get his musket up and aims at one of the men, but before he can get a shot off, two of the men have already reloaded and both put a bullet each through the heart of the leader.
One of the menās boots stops the canoe and he pulls it to shore. He puts his boot back on the canoe as the men with him check to make sure all five are dead. The outline of the man can just slightly be made out and as he turns to the side, the face of Moses Edward Barber can be seen. He glances down at the dead Indians in the boat and spits a bit of tobacco onto one of the bodies. The scene cuts out.
====================
The scene finally cuts to a more familiar scene, back to the Barber homestead where IWFās own John Barber lives. He is standing beside of a large blue Dodge Ram truck. He is standing on the side of it, reaches in and hits the horn a couple of times. He looks towards the house.
John Barber: Come on, Billy! Itās time to head to the airport! We gotta get to the pay-per-view!
A voice comes from inside the house.
Billy: Imma coming! I gotta finish grabbing my gear. Be out in a minute!
John grins and sighs, shaking his head. He turns to the camera and holds his hands out.
John Barber: Well shitfire, if this aināt as good a time as any, how about we cut this here promo for the pay-per-view? The Invictus Championship. My first title shot in IWF. Itās against this KLB feller and whoo buddy, he seems like an ornery sumbitch. I know that youāve probably been sitting there Mr. Bates watching this promo so far thinking what in the hell does his ancestor getting scalped by a damn Indian have anything to do with our match?
But see, I expect a smart guy such as yerself to figure it out pretty easily, but for anyone wonderingā¦it has EVERYTHING to do with my match. That there story has been passed down for the past few generations in my family. My great-great-great-great grandfather William Warren Barber was scalped by Indians. Even in the face of certain death, he didnāt back down. He made sure his family got away and didnāt die like he knew he was about to. Even with a gut of buckshot, he still put one foot in front of the other. That there story showed the hardiness of the Barber family. It showed what kind of attitude I was raised with.
We Barbers donāt back down. We donāt give a damn what is put in front of us, because we put each foot in front of the other until we get where we need to be. Yeah, Iām facing a dangerous fella in KLB. Heās a veteran in this wrasslin business and this company of IWF. Heās not stranger to championships. Heās beaten champions before here. Yeah, Iāve held a championship in some other company, but itās nothing like what KLB has done. He tells people that John Barber isnāt prepared. He doesnāt know what heās walking into, but it makes me think a little and wonder how he thinks heās prepared. It makes me think about how he knows what heās walking into. How many Florida Crackers have you faced, Mr. Bates? How many John Barbers have you faced before? Yeah, you can respond that youāve faced plenty of green under the gills wrasslers in this business and put them down, but the thing you havenāt done is put ME down. John Barber has never lost to Kristoff Liam Bates. That may happen this Sunday at the pay-per-view or the Florida Cracker may continue to stun the fans and come out on top with another victory and his first championship.
KLB talks about being the first Invictus champion and the road heās traveled to make it here as the Invictus champion. He talks about Mason St. Croix and Bob Pooler and how he beat them for the titles that make the Invictus championship. He runs his mouth about how he destroyed these two people, but I ask what in the world difference does that make? Am I Mason St. Croix? No. Am I Bob Pooler? No. I wasnāt even part of this company when he faced Mason. I was in my third match with this company when he faced Bob Pooler. I wasnāt even part of this company when KLB won match after match, so none of it even matters to me. Maybe if Iād been here for the last six months would either of those wins mean a thing to me.
They donāt because what matters is in the here and now. In the here and now, itās obvious which of us struggles to win matches and who doesnāt. Yeah, you won your big match at High Stakes, but ever since then youāve stared up in the ring as the other wrassler or team in the match had their hand raised and you walked to the back defeated, another loss on your record. Yeah Sephiroth lost you both of your tag team matches and you try to pawn that off on him as if that is not a reflection upon yourself. But see, this is where youāre wrong. Yeah, I have lost a couple of tag matches as well, but when Iām thrown into steel steps, laid out as a result and my partner LITERALLY TRIPS over our opponents to get pinned and then another time attacks me for no reason, itās an entirely different situation. I didnāt pick Jimmy Zane as my partner in those matches. You on the other hand picked Sephiroth du Lac to team with you.
Someone as intelligent as you seem to be should be able to see whatās going on with your tag team partner. In situations like yours, youāre about as much to blame as he is for these losses. I shrugged off those losses and came back to win three in a row. Iāve even been in hardcore and invictus matches even if you say differently so Iām also no stranger in IWF alone to the type of match weāll be in this Sunday. Like Iāve been saying for the past couple of minutes, Iām a Barber. I donāt back down. You can come at me with everything you got, everything you can pick up and everything you can carry, but I wonāt back down. Not because Iām green and stupid, no. Because Iām a stubborn sumbitch from Florida. Iām a Florida Cracker and I aim to show you what Iām all about in that there ring.
Our match Sunday is going to be beautiful, Invictus rules or not. After I won my match Monday, the commentators said our match at the pay-per-view will be some of the best technical wrassling on the planet and I couldnāt agree more. I look forward to taking you on, testing myself against one of the premiere technical wrasslers in our company. I may be green, but I know exactly what Iām walking into here. Iāve studied the tapes, Iāve taken notes. I know whatās going on here. Iām not afraid of the violence. Iām not afraid of the blood. Iām not afraid of the pain. I welcome them. Iām a southern boy through and through. A Florida Cracker donāt back down from nothing and I sure as hell aināt backing down from you Kristoff Liam Bates. That there Invictus championship donāt belong around your waist. You love having it there because it allows you to take out your frustration and aggression out on the world around you. It gives you an excuse to hurt people, to maim people, to break them. That aināt happening here. You say you aināt writing me off, but that I donāt understand what Iām walking into here. The last company I was in, all the matches was no disqualification. Weapons was allowed. Pure violence was allowed. I may not be as experienced in it as you, but I aināt no green foot in this type of match. And besides, experience does not always equal a win here. Ask Caleb White, Jimmy Zane, or Ryan Shane if it does. Theyāll all tell you the same damn story, that you best not cross a Florida Cracker.
Next month marks my one-year anniversary in this here wrasslin business and what better way to start it than as the Invictus champion. You aināt been doing so good here the last few weeks while Iāve finally found my footing and Iām gaining ground. Like my last three opponents, you about to find out what a Florida Cracker is all about!
Just promise me one thing, Mr. Bates. When I make you tap outā¦.donāt take it personal now ya hear?
John Barber smirks at the camera as the scene fades to black.
Well howdy there pardner.