Post by Ghost Spike on Nov 28, 2016 17:16:59 GMT
Evolution. Natural Selection. Survival….of...the...fittest. It’s that time of the year when everyone loses their damned minds and starts trying to relate themselves to darwinism, or trying to find some metaphor to link themselves to natural selection and why they will walk out with a championship. Thing is? This is my second Extinction Event, and it’s my second going in as a champion, and do you know what is so funny?
I’ve beaten everyone who can take this title off me within the last month or so.
The three supposed “challengers” standing on the opposite side of the ring from the House of Howlett, plus supporting acts Jessica Reed and Crystal Whats-her-face? They’ve all been defeated in one way, shape, or form, within the last months or so by your truly, and I’d even go as far as to say most of them have been beaten by Cable too! So, really...what are we supposed to do? Take you as a threat? Because trust me when I say this…
None of you are a threat.
I look at the man most likely to target me, JFK. A man who has had no trouble showing his disdain for me, his seething hatred, the very emotions that have seen him fall by my hand time...after time….after time. You throw insults my way James, either from a distance, or behind a keyboard….but when I offer you a one on one shot - you run and hide. You don’t back your words up - EVER! You sling mud at me, and actually expect me to be upset with what you’re saying. Am I such a horrible person for FAKING CANCER?
YES!!!
I never tried to say I wasn’t. I fucking thrive off the wave of patheticness it caused when all you little bitches got so upset. “Waah my mom died to cancer” tough shit! “Waaah my best friend died to cancer” sucks to be him! Because me? I’m alive and fucking kicking. I reeled you all in, and just when you all started to believe me, just when you were starting to feel sorry for the poor twenty year veteran who was on his way out the door both figuratively and literally…..I pulled the rug from underneath you all…
And each and every one of you fell for it.
So tell me James, are you really that upset about Spike Kane doing exactly what Spike Kane does? Or are you angry at yourself for being fooled? Are you angry that you were suckered in, Or ….are you just angry that I took your title from you and made you look like a bitch in front of the entire world? I know it’s a pretty solid list, and yeah...kicking your ass is starting to get a little boring, but I promise you this James...you keep coming? I’ll keep knocking you down, because I enjoy it, I thrive off of it...and there is nothing you - nor some dead never-was can do to stop me….and it burns you up inside doesn’t it? It tears you up to be so fucking useless….but it just fills me with such a warm feeling, I love watching you squirm, I love watching the anger take it’s hold…
I’ve seen one Karn fall to their darkside, and I bet it’s just a matter of time before you do too James...that, or you hang up the boots and piss right off...because let’s be honest, this is your last hurrah, right? This is your last chance to prove to the IWF fans that you aren’t some relic from a bygone era, that you got it done in nCw! You deserve to be here! When the brutal, hard truth is…
This isn’t nCw…
The competition here far exceeds that of that hell hole…
You.
Can’t.
Cut.
It.
See you in the cell James, for one last time, before I send you packing for good.
~~~
We open up on a large indoor play area for kids, sitting on the huge padded entrance to one of the weird climbing frames is Rob Diamond and Spike Kane, clearly watching their kids playing in the area. They looks happy, which is something we haven’t seen for quite some time.
Rob Diamond: This was a good idea man, nice to get out let the kids blow off some steam.
Spike picks up a couple of balls from the ball pit, and starts to juggle them around a little, he smirks at Rob, but not in that shit-eating-cockiness kind of way, more in a “thanks for stating the obvious buddy” kind of way.
Spike Kane: Things have been tense man, for all of us….every now and then, it’s nice to slow things down and just enjoy everything.
As Spike throws a ball in the air, Rob swipes in and slaps it away from him. It flies into the ball pit and hits some random kid in the back of the head. Rob and Spike both burst out laughing, but quickly turn away from the kid so that he cannot see who threw the ball at him. Just as they’re about to turn around a young boy comes up to Rob and Spike, with his mother behind him. She could be much older than her early twenties, but she nudged the boy closer to them.
Boy: Ugh...ugh…..Mr Spike...Mr Rob...can I p-p-please have your autograph?
The mother folded her arms, probably expecting the Infamous pair to tear the kid a new one, or laugh in his face, they’d clearly met some wrestlers before, but to her shock Spike nodded his head and leaned into take her sons pen.
Spike Kane: Of course little buddy, what’s your name?
Boy: George!
Spike ruffles the kids hair as he takes the pen and begins to sign an autograph. Rob looks down at his watch, and then over his shoulder for Hope, before he took the pen from Spike and signed his too. He smiled at the kid, and then up at the mother too, who looked very grateful for them taking the time.
Boy: I hope you kick butt at Survival of the Fittest!
The three adults laugh out loud, as Spike high fives George, but suddenly his cell phone begins to ring. He holds up a finger to the group, before excusing himself. He walks a few feet away from everyone before pulling his phone out and checking the caller ID.
[Incoming Call…...Freya]
Spike cocks an eyebrow as he answers the phone.
Spike: Hey Freya….ugh….don’t really hear from you often what’s u-
Freya cuts Spike off before he can even finish the sentence.
Freya: Spike.it’s Brad…..he’s had a heart attack….Mike….he’s dead….
The words hit Spike like a freight train, he lowers the phone but doesn’t hang, the noise of the kids playing around him just blurs into one noise, almost like a concussion grenade had gone off. Rob sees what is happening and comes running over, he’s shouting Spike’s name, but Spike doesn’t react, he just stares, before eventually Rob just takes his cell phone off of him and talks into it, after hearing what Freya has to say, he turns to face Spike, and hangs the phone up. He puts a hand on Spike’s shoulder, and Spike swallows hard, as we fade.
~~~
Who’d have thought the “leader of lost souls” would find his way into this match? It’s funny, it really is….because I’ve been listening since you showed up Kyle. I’ve been paying attention to what you’ve not been saying. You came in here, expecting to be handed the Imperial Title, or at least some kind of shot at it….and you all but demanded it, like some kid throwing his toys out of his pram…
I won’t talk til I win the Imperial title…
I guess we won’t be hearing much from you for a very long time, huh, Kyle?
People were probably expecting a more amicable reception from me towards you when you first showed up, but I ask them, why? Because we’re such good friends? When was the last time we talked Kyle? When was the last time you check in on me, or my kid? Where were you when Ana Valentine ripped my heart out and stomped on it….oh, I remember, anywhere but here, right! Cause when the going gets tough, Falcon gets the fuck out of there. Yet, no the competition thins out….people like Jayson Fucking Matthews are getting Imperial Title shots and a lightbulb goes off in your head! This is your chance! This is your time to win big and go down in history alongside names like Angel Blake, and Spike Kane! …...I see right through you.
Thing is, you’re not on our level Kyle, you never were, and you never will be.
You used to stand for something, or so you’d have people believe, at least. You were the white knight, the hero, the lawful good paladin, but behind it all...you only did what was best for you. When we joined up in the Forgotten, I saw your motives, I saw your message and I believed it, I believed in it, and you…..but it didn’t take long for that t fall apart. As soon as things don’t go your way, everything goes out the window. You’re a man of principle? Bullshit. You’re as much a snake as I am!
You put me in fucking hospital.
You nearly ended my career, and what was my crime? Standing up against the second coming of the Age of the Revolution. Spike Kane, the nastiest, cruelest, son of a bitch on the planet was actually trying to do some good, and what did he get as a reward? The “white knight” shelved him for months….yeah, that is who I see when I look at you Falcon. I see a hypocrite. I see someone who is so full of shit, that they can’t talk anymore, because everything they spit is just lies and bullshit. Face it old man, you’re past it, you can’t cut it anymore, and you most certainly do not belong in this match. You don’t belong anywhere near Noah’s Invictus Championship, you most certainly don’t belong anywhere near MY Man of Steel championship….which means, quite frankly, you don’t belong in the same ring as the champ himself….
I’m not blowing smoke, Cable is a dick….he thinks the same of me, but I respect what he’s done, and what he’s capable of….you?
You’re yesterday's news, a magazine in the era of the tablet, a cd-rom in the era of digital downloads, fucking dial-up in the era of fibre optic….
It might hurt to realise it all Kyle, but trust me, once the dust settles after the Extinction Event? All will become clear, and you’ll finally have your excuse to hang the boots up for good, to turn your back and walk out…
One.
More.
Time.
~~~
“My brother and I were not the best of friends.”
The scene shows a graveyard, touched by the morning's frost, but dry enough not to be muddy. A pair of black shoes steps in front of the camera, followed by the black trousers the legs are connected to.
“In fact some people might have called us bitter enemies. You see this scar on my hand? ….that was Brad.”
“Thing is, Brad and I were close for the vast majority of our lives. It’s ironic that whilst we were in the womb it was his heart that gave out, and mine that supported us both….leading to my own heart complications, so for Brad to go the way he did….it hit harder than some might think.”
Now the figure walks up to the plot that holds a brand new expensive looking headstone with Bradley Allen Kane etched in gold. The coffin rests just above the grave, and Brad’s family is sat around, almost all of them in tears. Spike didn’t know them all, he should have, he knew that, but he and Brad had grown so far apart that he’d stopped bothering, but seeing Brad’s kids so torn up, hit a note.
“We went through a lot as kids, and we were torn away from each other. Separated and scattered across the world, but we still found each other. They say that twins have a special connection, and it can’t be pure coincidence that several years later we would both wind up wrestling for the same company!”
Spike makes eye contact with Freya, who is sat with her own kids, and he’s hit with another pang of guilt for not getting to know them either.
“Our family has never been what most would call normal, but when we found each other? We made it work. We were happy, and we had Freya too. We tried to make our little piece of life better for each other, and eventually for our own kids…..we carved a legacy, each of us, well respected and legends within our craft…...but it feels almost hollow, knowing that one of the last conversations I had with my brother was him cussing me out for faking cancer….”
“People might not believe me, but I loved my brother. I held his opinion of me within the highest regard, and it breaks my heart that I’ll never get to make amends, it breaks my heart that I see all of you here today, and I barely know you…..because of my own actions, and my own ego. Things like this put everything into perspective, and I hope that one day people will look at me the same way they looked at Brad. With respect, with warmth, with love….”
“That is the legacy that Brad leaves behind, and it is a legacy any man would be more than honoured to do so. I love you brother…...rest in peace.”
~~~
I am so sick and tired at the sight of you Cutler.
No matter what happens, no matter how many times you get your ass whooped….you never change, you never adapt, you just spit the same rhetoric over and over. To the point where I’ve stopped believing that you’re trying to convince the fans, and believe you’re trying to convince yourself…..because no matter how badly you get beaten, how badly you get your ass kicked…
You’re still here!
Right, isn’t that your go-to thing? Guess what Dre, that isn’t even remotely original. You know, it’s kind of funny, because I know of at least three people who’ve used that arguement, who wore it like armour and expected it to save them….wanna know who? An asshole named Kevin Hardaway, and guess what?
He ain’t here!
Next up? Joe freakin’ Everyman. The IWF’s first ever Imperia Champion, he had a lot in common with you, average dude, working his balls off to get his neck above the water line, to break through that glass ceiling, but guess what Dre?
He ain’t here!
And the last? Our very own resident clown - Todd Williams. Yeah, he shows up very now and then, when he fucking feels like trying to make an effort. He spouts off about how he means business, and how despite everything that has gone his way - he’s still here...but what is he really Dre? He’s a fucking joke. Is that what you want to be? Is that the future you envision for yourself? I mean, there main difference between you and Todd, is that Todd doesn’t play the race card like you do.
Woe is me, I’m black, waah waah wahh.
It’s twenty fucking sixteen, get over yourself.
Oh, I’m sorry, where you expecting me to apologise for my ENTIRE RACE? The fuck do I have to apologise for? My ancestors didn’t do shit, in fact mine where treated like shit! Our land was stolen, our farms and produce taxed and stolen…..just, don’t even get me started, because I’m so sick and tired of people like you being so self-entitled expecting the whole world to hand them everything, shake their hand, and fucking apologise for any triles and tribulations you might have to go through…
That’s what we get for giving our participation trophies I guess.
It’s the tumblr world we live in, white people who have had nothing to do with the slave trade, or any other horrible events in the world's history trying to apologise for those issues and events. It’s like the Chinese apologising for fucking Pearl Harbour, but you know what? I ain’t sorry, I don't give a shit…
Black people sold other black people to “the white man” there are only two fucking genders, you can be whatever sexuality you want, the world doesn’t own you shit, you’re not going to get your dream job, and you’re going to spend the majority of your life in debt
That do anything for you Dre? Do you understand where my thought process is now? I don’t care who you are, I don’t care where you come from, I don’t care what religeon you are, I don’t care what colour skin you have, and I most of all do not give a flying fuck about those things in relation to your love life…..all I care about, is what goes down in that ring, and the last time we met? You got the upper hand…
For once.
I spent an entire month putting you down, and you expected to be able to go on and beat Cable for the Imperial Title? Please son, that isn’t how this shit works. Now...I’m not Cable’s biggest fan, and you can bet your sweet fucking ass I’m not going to sacrifice myself so he can keep his belt, that just isn’t how I work, and Cable knows this. You see, I see a lot of myself in Cable, I see the pride, I see the arrogance, but I also see the skill, the desire, and the passion….things people like you, JFK, and Falcon choose to ignore….ooh, we’re the bad men, so we deserve to lose…
Don’t worry about our lives, what we’ve been through, about our families...nah, we don’t work the way you want us too, so we don’t deserve to….right?
Hypocrites, each and every one of you….
Then there is Eternity.
Oh, I know I can’t legally put my hands on you little girly, but don’t think for a fucking second I’m not very aware of your presence in this match. You’ve taken my son, and one way, or another….I’ll get him back but you play your little games...if anything, you’re just going to help prove my point either Warren really is a Kane?
Or ….y’know….the other thing.
One things is for sure, it doesn’t matter who comes after me in that Cell. I am going to walk in there the God of Steel, and I will 100% be walking back out, STILL the God of Steel, and each and every one of you will kneel before me, and truly realise who the fuck you’re being locked in a cell with….and the entire IWF roster…
Will All. Bloody. Hail!
Well howdy there pardner.