Post by TheLostBoys on May 1, 2017 1:27:18 GMT
It was a fine morning over Toledo, Ohio. Bright, sunny and calm. Sam Braxton stepped out onto the balcony of a room at the Hotel at Oberlin to enjoy the panoramic view of the bustling cityscape beneath him. The days since Motor City Mayhem had passed by in an almost euphoric blur and needless to say Sam was enjoying himself and his heightened sense of elation to the fullest. He stretched out his arms wide and stood, in all his glory to breathe in the serenity.He noticed a young mother and her son staring at him wide-eyed from an adjoining balcony.
"G'day." He said simply, with a sheepish smile on his face.
In response the mother gasped and shrank bank, covering her sons eyes with her hand and retreating back to the sanctity of their own room. See what you may fail to realise is that Sam Braxton was completely naked and seemingly oblivious to the abhorrence his current state of undress was causing others. hat or he didn't care. He felt on top of the world, empowered since the definitive victory over the Renegades at Motor City Mayhem. And if any one from the hotel complained, well hat would be future Dean's problem.
But speaking of Dean...
Sam stepped back inside the room and looked over to the vacant bed that belonged to his best friend. Since the pay-per-view Dean had been acting a lot more aloof and making a habit of staying out late. Later than even Sam, a remarkable feat in and of itself. As if on cue Dean made his entrance and instantly balked at the fully exposed Sam Braxton that stood before him.
"WHOA! I knew you enjoyed the pay-per-view, but I didn't realise you enjoyed it THAT much."
Sam looked down and shrugged nonchalantly.
"What can I say, I'm an early riser."
"Uhuh. Well don't raise me until around lunch time. Oh and we should probably think about preparations for our match against the Bueno Club."
"Think? Prepare? What for? We'll just march right in and do to them what we did to the Renegades and we'll leave laughing. We're untouchable now."
"First off, this isn't a hardcore match so walzting in with weapons a-swining is a surefire way to get us disqualified. A result neither we nor the Club want. Second...I'm too exhausted for this shit right now. Yes we overcame the devils at our backs, the Renegades, but they were simply the first of many obstacles yet to come. And if you recall thy very nearly brought us to ruin. So despite having some momentum we should still not grow careless."
"Same old Dean, still worrying too much. Trust me. There is nothing that anyone on the IWF roster can throw at us that we can't handle if we're together. We're invincible! And woe betide any who dares think to get in our way as we take the express elevator straight to the top."
"Alright, whatever. Do what you want. Just don't wake me. But for the love of god please do it with some clothes on! You may think us now above the folly of the IWF but we are still subject to American Law and I do not want to bail you out of lock-up for indecent exposure."
"No promises". Sam said playfully.
Dean groaned and collapsed onto his bed. In the blink of an eye he was gone to the world. Sam hesitated a moment and studied his friend, not sure if he should be worried about the shifts in Dean's behaviour or not. Sam quickly quashed any feelings of doubt and negativity. After all, they were the Lost Boys and they had finally found their place in the hostile and foreign environment that was the IWF.
"Don't you worry mate. I'll get us to the top. That I promise you. No one is ever going to stop Sam Braxton from the worldwide recognition and respect I truly deserve. No one." He whispered and with a large, impish smile he went about to enjoy the day.
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"The Bueno Club...El Grande Malo and Zasshu..."
The camera cuts in to a stereotypical parking lot located somewhere within a quieter suburban area of Toledo. Sam Braxton and Dean Coulter are reclined back atop the hoods of two random cars, arms crossed behind their heads and gazing up into the sky.
"Our first in-ring encounter was something of a disappointment to me. It was tarnished by the presence of the Renegades. If not for them we may have had a contest worthy of a main-event."
"We probably also would have won." Sam snidely added.
"Luckily the Fennells have finally been taken out of the picture and we can make up for lost time."
"Dean here is very much looking forward to this match. He has constantly been singing your praises Zasshu and Malo. Emphasising your accomplishments, your talent and all that nonsense. That's because Dean is very much a decent bloke at heart. He may enjoy beating up a guy, but he'll always be a gentleman about it. Me? Not so much. I just want to get in, kick your arses and be done with it."
"But Sam, knowing the story of our two opponents, is a good way to better understand how we can beat them. You know, knowledge is power. Zasshu and El Grande Malo have overcome insidious outside forces trying to tear them apart, coming together in a common cause and forging an effective and talented team that should not be overlooked or underestimated."
"Fuck that. The best way to beat someone is to knock them on their back and cover them for the pin. Or make them tap out. Whatever takes your fancy. I mean who is the Bueno Club really? Especially when compared to the Lost Boys. What purpose do they have that is anywhere near as profound as ours? Except perhaps just to keep them both working and not get deported, or forced to build that Wall that was promised."
"Jesus Sam. Trash-talk is good and all but if your going to make racially charged insults, make sure they are actually correct. Zasshu is from Japan, residing in Mexico, whilst Malo is from Mexico in Maine."
"There's a second Mexico? Eh, it's all the same to me and doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. We're not about to let anyone, regardless of their origins, stop our momentum from building."
"You may be tactless Sam but you do raise a good point."
"It happens from time to time."
"Bueno Club, for all your talent in the ring, the most pressing question truly is this...What exactly are you fighting for? What drives you?"
"Dean and I have bee perfectly clear multiple times on what it is we will achieve."
"And because of this we are inspired to fight harder, to persist and endure. To use any and every means necessary. A necessity I had to learn the hard way, but one I am willing to share with you Zasshu and Malo. Because if you want to get anywhere in this business, sometimes you just have tread upon the dark side for a while."
"Just ask the Renegades what we are capable of, if they are even conscious yet. And even then you'd still only get a slither of an insight into the Lost Boys."
"Without such a force behind you Bueno Club, I'm afraid you will inevitably fall short. Though I do expect and hope you will make a dogged fight out of it. For our sake, more than yours....For all my talk of anticipating and enjoying this coming match, like Sam, I am going to enjoy beating the two of you all the more! So if I seem to be raising you onto a pedestal, it is only so we can have the personal satisfaction of knocking you down off of it!"
"G'day." He said simply, with a sheepish smile on his face.
In response the mother gasped and shrank bank, covering her sons eyes with her hand and retreating back to the sanctity of their own room. See what you may fail to realise is that Sam Braxton was completely naked and seemingly oblivious to the abhorrence his current state of undress was causing others. hat or he didn't care. He felt on top of the world, empowered since the definitive victory over the Renegades at Motor City Mayhem. And if any one from the hotel complained, well hat would be future Dean's problem.
But speaking of Dean...
Sam stepped back inside the room and looked over to the vacant bed that belonged to his best friend. Since the pay-per-view Dean had been acting a lot more aloof and making a habit of staying out late. Later than even Sam, a remarkable feat in and of itself. As if on cue Dean made his entrance and instantly balked at the fully exposed Sam Braxton that stood before him.
"WHOA! I knew you enjoyed the pay-per-view, but I didn't realise you enjoyed it THAT much."
Sam looked down and shrugged nonchalantly.
"What can I say, I'm an early riser."
"Uhuh. Well don't raise me until around lunch time. Oh and we should probably think about preparations for our match against the Bueno Club."
"Think? Prepare? What for? We'll just march right in and do to them what we did to the Renegades and we'll leave laughing. We're untouchable now."
"First off, this isn't a hardcore match so walzting in with weapons a-swining is a surefire way to get us disqualified. A result neither we nor the Club want. Second...I'm too exhausted for this shit right now. Yes we overcame the devils at our backs, the Renegades, but they were simply the first of many obstacles yet to come. And if you recall thy very nearly brought us to ruin. So despite having some momentum we should still not grow careless."
"Same old Dean, still worrying too much. Trust me. There is nothing that anyone on the IWF roster can throw at us that we can't handle if we're together. We're invincible! And woe betide any who dares think to get in our way as we take the express elevator straight to the top."
"Alright, whatever. Do what you want. Just don't wake me. But for the love of god please do it with some clothes on! You may think us now above the folly of the IWF but we are still subject to American Law and I do not want to bail you out of lock-up for indecent exposure."
"No promises". Sam said playfully.
Dean groaned and collapsed onto his bed. In the blink of an eye he was gone to the world. Sam hesitated a moment and studied his friend, not sure if he should be worried about the shifts in Dean's behaviour or not. Sam quickly quashed any feelings of doubt and negativity. After all, they were the Lost Boys and they had finally found their place in the hostile and foreign environment that was the IWF.
"Don't you worry mate. I'll get us to the top. That I promise you. No one is ever going to stop Sam Braxton from the worldwide recognition and respect I truly deserve. No one." He whispered and with a large, impish smile he went about to enjoy the day.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The Bueno Club...El Grande Malo and Zasshu..."
The camera cuts in to a stereotypical parking lot located somewhere within a quieter suburban area of Toledo. Sam Braxton and Dean Coulter are reclined back atop the hoods of two random cars, arms crossed behind their heads and gazing up into the sky.
"Our first in-ring encounter was something of a disappointment to me. It was tarnished by the presence of the Renegades. If not for them we may have had a contest worthy of a main-event."
"We probably also would have won." Sam snidely added.
"Luckily the Fennells have finally been taken out of the picture and we can make up for lost time."
"Dean here is very much looking forward to this match. He has constantly been singing your praises Zasshu and Malo. Emphasising your accomplishments, your talent and all that nonsense. That's because Dean is very much a decent bloke at heart. He may enjoy beating up a guy, but he'll always be a gentleman about it. Me? Not so much. I just want to get in, kick your arses and be done with it."
"But Sam, knowing the story of our two opponents, is a good way to better understand how we can beat them. You know, knowledge is power. Zasshu and El Grande Malo have overcome insidious outside forces trying to tear them apart, coming together in a common cause and forging an effective and talented team that should not be overlooked or underestimated."
"Fuck that. The best way to beat someone is to knock them on their back and cover them for the pin. Or make them tap out. Whatever takes your fancy. I mean who is the Bueno Club really? Especially when compared to the Lost Boys. What purpose do they have that is anywhere near as profound as ours? Except perhaps just to keep them both working and not get deported, or forced to build that Wall that was promised."
"Jesus Sam. Trash-talk is good and all but if your going to make racially charged insults, make sure they are actually correct. Zasshu is from Japan, residing in Mexico, whilst Malo is from Mexico in Maine."
"There's a second Mexico? Eh, it's all the same to me and doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. We're not about to let anyone, regardless of their origins, stop our momentum from building."
"You may be tactless Sam but you do raise a good point."
"It happens from time to time."
"Bueno Club, for all your talent in the ring, the most pressing question truly is this...What exactly are you fighting for? What drives you?"
"Dean and I have bee perfectly clear multiple times on what it is we will achieve."
"And because of this we are inspired to fight harder, to persist and endure. To use any and every means necessary. A necessity I had to learn the hard way, but one I am willing to share with you Zasshu and Malo. Because if you want to get anywhere in this business, sometimes you just have tread upon the dark side for a while."
"Just ask the Renegades what we are capable of, if they are even conscious yet. And even then you'd still only get a slither of an insight into the Lost Boys."
"Without such a force behind you Bueno Club, I'm afraid you will inevitably fall short. Though I do expect and hope you will make a dogged fight out of it. For our sake, more than yours....For all my talk of anticipating and enjoying this coming match, like Sam, I am going to enjoy beating the two of you all the more! So if I seem to be raising you onto a pedestal, it is only so we can have the personal satisfaction of knocking you down off of it!"
Well howdy there pardner.