One Misstep...But The Right Direction...

[StrongStyleNightmare]

Moments…some are good and some are bad. 

Last week, Renee had one of those good moments. 

Me…not so much. 

One mis-timed move and I’m at the loser’s paycheck window. 

I had you, Renee…and you knew I had you, because I saw it in your eyes. You and I both know it…the fans…they saw it so they know it. But you still managed to walk out with the one thing that I needed. And normally this is the part where I say that I was robbed. This is normally the point where I talk about how I should get a rematch. But I won’t. 

You see you and I both know what that match should have been. 

And I want you to sit on that fact for a minute. I want you to let I soak in that it was a mis-positioned ref that saved that title for you. But rest assured, I will make my way back to you and that Imperial Championship. That’s if AJ allows you to walk out with it. With that being said…I plan on fixing some things. I plan on changing things, you see I owe the good people of Body Count. 

When I was at a low, they extended their hand. When I was falling, they threw me a rope and pulled me up. And so far, I haven’t held up my part. I have been letting the family down. And being the good family that they are…they have allowed me to continue being around because they have love for the thing we are trying to do. But love only goes so far. 

So this is where the love stops and the business begins. And it starts with the new comer who has decided that this is the path to take. Like this is the cakewalk way to get your jump in this company. And you know…I have allowed that to happen and continue. But we will address that issue when the time comes. So feel free to take this as a warning. As a brief tap on the shoulder before that first punch gets thrown. 

Oh and believe me.... 

That first punch is coming…and it will be followed by a whole gang of others. 

{The fans cheer for Mason as he kicks out again, and now it's Pleasant who's barking at the ex-baseball upmire over his slow, methodical count. Showing incredible restraint, the official calmly holds up two fingers as Pleasant continues his argument, which gives Kyle the chance he needs to slowly pull himself back together and shake the fuzzies out of his mind. Without warning, Mason sneaks in and delivers his springboard clothesline called “Hit the Pause Button,” knocking Pleasant senseless! The champ doesn't go down and staggers around the ring, eventually bumbling his way toward Mason as he prepares his prelim for his STRIKE CITY finisher, but the ensuing mist the flies accidentally blinds the referee instead! Now it's the official who can't see as he tries desperately to shake the stuff off of his noggin! Mason can't believe what he just did as he prepares for a second attempt at his Strike City finisher—only to wind up on the wrong end of Pleasant's cutthroat back chokeslam that's called the RAV! Mason lies spread-eagle in the middle of the ring as the crowd groans, knowing what's coming next. A replacement referee rushes into the ring to make his count.} 

1...! 

2...!! 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

[DING-DING-DING!!!] 

Terri Morasco: And there you have it! 

Vasco Dias: Another one bites the dust, Terri. 

{Renee celebrates over Kyle’s beaten body as the IWF logo appears in the corner.} 

 

I get it, DT…I honestly and truly get it. All this talk about me being a forgotten memory. As washed up, never was that is taking up roster space..  

But for some reason, for some odd reason you have chosen to target me. 

You have chosen me to be your little punching bag for your first match in the IWF. 

And I really do get it. Target the guy on the horrible losing streak. Taking advantage of the wounded dog limping around...  

Heh, the thing is, DT, you have just stepped into the wrong place at the wrong FUCKING time. And I know that your plan is beating up the poor ol’ white boy. I get that you most likely are trying to work out the anger over that whole 40 acres and a mule shit, but listen…I have nothing to do with that. Those years of unjust treatment and beatings, I have nothing to do with that, DT. But you know what I will have something to do with? I will have something to do with the beating that is about to be dished out to you this week. And not because you are Black or because you seem to be one giant, retarded stereotype one two legs.  

I’m going to break you in half because I was ONE mistimed move away from being Imperial Champion. 

ONE!!  

You think you are the first big guy to step into the ring and talk as if he is the next big thing. I hate to break it to you, kid, but being big and black only means something in Basketball, Football and Porn. And while The Conway train has been fucking over everyone in sight, this isn’t the set of IWF gone wild. And even though sometimes the refs seem blind, this isn’t the NFL. And even though Kathleen Conway seems to be feed more balls then a center in the paint…this isn’t the NBA. 

This is the IWF.

And I am not in the mood for the bullshit that you are attempting to bring.  

You see I’m not in the mood to entertain your “Big bad Black man fantasies”. What I’m here to do is to teach a lesson that I had to learn the very hard way. I am going to teach you about being humble. I am going to teach you a brief lesson on this little thing called respect.  

Because, DT, my patience levels aren’t as high as they used to be. 

So when that bell rings…when the ref calls for the match to start, I am going to tear you into pieces.  

So you bring that size and power. You bring that brawling style with you. I am going to welcome all that to the ring.  

And since you are going to bring all that with you…since you will be giving, allow me to give back. 

Allow me the honor of giving you the gift of tap, because all that tough talk you bring with you to the ring, I’m going to allow you to leave with. Ok, let me be honest, I must likely will be in a taking mood this week, DT. So while I’ll let you take all that other shit back to the locker room with you…I’ll make sure you leave me a little something to say thank you for the lesson. The question is what should you leave? What should you leave behind as a payment for what I’m about to teach you. And you know what…after thinking and thinking about it, I think I came up with a solution. You see I plan on getting back to the spot I was at last week. Contesting for the Imperial title. 

In order to do that, I am going to welcome to a little tour that I’m putting together in honor of the good people at The Body Count.  

It’s called the Body Part tour…and you seem like the perfect person to set this tour off in the right way. And it is so easy to be a helping part of what will go down as a great tour. All you have to do is pick which limb you would like to donate to the tour. Now listen…I know you may be having a hard time deciding, but allow me to help you out by giving you a few options to pick from. Now there is the all time favorite is a leg. Now you could easily choose the whole leg or pieces of the leg. I mean there is the ankle or the knee. Now another one you could offer is the arm. Now I personally love the arm because that seemingly gives you the most options. Like a whole arm, the wrist, the elbow or the going in popular choice of things…the shoulder. 

Now there is one that not many people normally pick but is a fun choice none the less. And that is the back. The back is one that, to me, is a sleeper choice for a big guy like you. And do you know why? Because with the back gone…that cuts out a lot of things that you are able to do. All those power moves…gone. All that flexing…gone. 

Yeah…I think that is the way to go. 

Because just beating you into the mat wouldn’t be enough for a big guy like you. You are the type of guy that needs to have something big taking away from you in order to understand that sometimes your mouth could be your worst enemy. 

So go enjoy that new Drake and Future CD. Go get yourself a ticket and watch Straight Outta Compton. Go clean up your Air Force Ones and take a nice stroll through your hood. 

Because after our match, you won’t get a chance to do those things. After our match, you won’t get to enjoy those little moments. Because you may be bigger and stronger, but I am something you aren’t, sunshine. 

I’m pissed the fuck off and I’m looking for someone to stomp a hole into. 

So when that bell finally rings, buddy boy. Don’t worry about The Body Count. Because the Strong Style Nightmare is going to make sure you have a grand ol’ time… 

Trust me… 

 

:: The scene opens to the night of Mason’s Imperial Championship match. Mason came within a hair’s width from becoming champion. One mis-timed move sent his dreams shattering on that night. Kyle isn’t taken the defeat very well. :: 

SON OF A BITCH!!!! 

I had that motherfucker dead to rites and that ref gets in the way… 

:: Mason bangs his fist on the table in front of him before flipping it in the air out of rage. Natasha jumps back as the table comes crashing down onto the ground and breaks. Mason kicks the shattered pieces of table out of his way as he slumps up against the dressing room wall. The frustration boiling over in his face. :: 

Natasha: Kyle…you need to… 

:: Kyle shoots her a look that cause her to stop in mid sentence. This wasn’t the Kyle that she knew. She has seen Kyle on a low, but this was something different. This isn’t the Kyle she knows. She didn’t not know this man in front of her. :: 

I want the first flight out of here and I want time in the best gym in the area of the PPV…