Post by Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith on Jan 30, 2017 11:49:25 GMT -5
Collision Course 5 has finally hit the books, and there were many surprises along the way. The first was Grimm becoming the new #1 contender for the PCW World Heavyweight Championship. Then, Dan Fierce defied all odds and became the new PCW World Champion. Lunacy returns and becomes the new Underground Champion, beating residential PCW veteran Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith and former champion Cory Steel. Once again, the Underground Championship was right in the Crazy One's grasp, only for it to be taken away by one small mistake. If he could have just recovered fast enough to cover Lunacy, he would have the title around HIS waist, but instead, the Crazy Slam took all of his energy and was too winded to move. Once again, greatness eluded the PCW Hall of Famer and once again, he is sitting there asking the same question he has for over a year now: Does he still have what it takes to keep up with the younger generation?
The show opens up with Tyrone sitting in his living room in his beach house, eyes closed and a scowl on his face. His normally long, blonde hair has been cut shorter and he is growing a goatee of sorts that looks unkempt. He is mumbling something to himself, the audio not picking up any of the words, as his eyes open, looking tired and bloodshot as he slowly gets up from the leather couch. He walks to the wall of the room, staring at it for a few seconds before letting out a blood curling scream, punching the wall hard enough to put a hole in it. In the background, you can see Crazy Boy's older brother, Carlos, run toward the forlorn superstar, putting his hands on his shoulders, shaking him wildly.
(Carlos) Tyrone, calm down! Pitching a fit is not going to solve anything! Sure, you lost another shot at becoming the Underground Champion, but all you can do is pick yourself up and keep on going. You can't continue to drag yourself into the mud and beat yourself up over it. It's been 3 weeks. You will get another shot.
(CB) I am 36 years old now. My body isn't quite as resilient and agile as it used to be. I'm not sure I will get that many opportunities anymore, and I'm squandering every single one that I get. I just don't know how much heartache I can take anymore.
(Carlos) I know that you want the gold around your waist, but you just have to take advantage of the opportunities you DO create. The last couple of times, you had it right in your hands, but you didn't take advantage, either by your own idiocy, or your own stamina failing you. You just need to work on some calisthenics, that's all. Build your body up without the gym. Work on some running, some basic workout regimen and get you back stronger than ever. You'll get there. Age is just a number, after all.
Tyrone stares at the wall for a couple of moments, lost in thought, as he turns around and looks at his brother. His eyes seem to light up for a moment, then go back to the glassy, bloodshot look it has been for a few weeks now.
(CB) I guess I can try it. You are the gym owner. You have the degree in Sports Medicine. I'm sure you know what you are talking about. What do you have in mind?
(Carlos) Go get your workout clothes. Go get ready. We're going to go take a run down the beach.
The Crazy One stares at his older brother with confusion on his face.
(CB) I do that all the time. I run a few miles down the boardwalk a couple times a week. That isn't anything new.
(Carlos) Ah, but you always run down the boardwalk, but how about running on the actual beach? That will get your legs really moving and build muscle and stamina in your legs. You can run on the boardwalk all day, but until you actually push and challenge yourself, you are not going to see any more results.
(CB) Okay, okay. I get what you are saying. Give me a few minutes and let me go get ready. I'll just have to take your word on this.
(Carlos) We'll just take it easy for a bit. We'll ramp it up as time goes along. Don't want to kill you in the first go around.
That puts a smile on his face as he snickers.
(CB) Look at you, oh master of training. Thinking that I can't go for a while. It's just sand. How bad can it be?
Carlos smiles and shakes his head. He walks up to the Hall of Famer and puts a hand on his shoulder, a small laugh escaping his lips.
(Carlos) You really want to go? We can try it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you.
(CB) Yeah, I think I can handle a couple of miles on sand. You underestimate my abilities, Carlos.
(Carlos) Okay, Ty. Don't listen to the person who has the Bachelor's degree. Don't listen to the person that does this kind of stuff for a living. Don't come crying to me when it's too hard.
All Crazy Boy can do is shrug his shoulders as he walks down the narrow hallway to his bedroom, opening up a drawer to grab a few assorted items of clothing. As he walks back up to the large living room, he trots over and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He turns to his older brother and nods his head.
(CB) Let's go.
The veteran superstar and his brother walk across the room, opening the door to the outside as the show fades to black
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When the show opens back up, it is about a half of hour later. The camera shows only black as you hear coughing and a lot of heavy breathing coming through the audio. The camera starts to add a little color and fading back in, like someone is just waking up. All the sudden a blur flies past the camera as the camera bursts with light. The camera turns around to follow the figure, but it is gone. Whoever it was, he or she was moving FAST! All the sudden, the blur starts coming again and it is shown as Carlos. He is comfortably running through the sands of the beaches behind the beach house, running back and forth with ease After a couple more moments, you can hear heavy wheezing and coughing as the Crazy One comes into view, hunched over. His face is bright red, sweat pouring down his face. He seems to be having a little trouble catching his breath.
(CB) How far was that, Carlos?
Carlos just shakes his head and takes a device out, looking at the screen.
(Carlos) About a mile. You sure you want to continue on, Ty? You look dead to the world. I told you this wouldn't be easy. Sand puts more weight on your legs and isn't as shock absorbent as concrete or wood. It will tire you out, trust me.
(CB) How do you DO this, Carlos? I'm dying over here!
(Carlos) I do this for a living, Ty. I run these beaches with some of my students and members of the gym a couple times a week. I'm used to it. I can run for miles now without killing myself. It's all about stamina and leg strength.
Tyrone struggles to open his bottle of water as he takes several large gulps of the drink, still struggling to catch his breath. The sweat is dripping off his face onto the coarse sand.
(CB) I see what you mean. My legs feel like jelly and feel like I can fall over anytime. I guess that means it is doing its job. I don't know how much more I can do today, but I would like to do this a couple more times before Trauma 206.
(Carlos) Oh trust me, I have you started on this regimen, I'm not going to let you stop. I am going to get you as comfortable running across sand as I am. Along the way, we'll add more odd and end exercises to do along the way. I am going to make this a workout that you won't soon forget.
The Crazy One nods and looks behind him, his beach house barely visible in the distance.
(CB) Can we walk back? I don't know if I can handle running all the way back.
Crazy Boy starts to walk toward the boardwalk, but Carlos coughs loudly, stopping the veteran superstar dead in his tracks.
(Carlos) I don't mind walking back, but we'll do it in the sand. Just because there's no running, doesn't mean I can't let up on you. Even walking in the sand is good for your legs.
All Tyrone can do is sigh as he walks up to his brother, taking another large sip out of his drink as they start walking back down the beach, Carlos talking to his brother the entire time, the show fading to black.
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The show opens back up with the Crazy One laying down on the couch in his living room. He is once again by himself, his brother leaving to go check up on the gym before heading home. He is breathing easier and more deliberate, the sweat almost a sticky gloss across his face as he is obviously trying to think about what to say about his match against Kyle Shane.
(CB) This match is going to show all of you, once and for all, that I am not a laughingstock of ANYONE and I still have some years left under my belt. I haven't been myself the past few months, losing matches I should have won, my head not being in the game the whole time. I have been thinking about irrelevant things, and it's been putting a toll on my career.
Crazy Boy continues to lay down on the couch, his breathing slowing and easier.
(CB) At Trauma 206, I face Kyle Shane, who seems to already want to get under my skin. Calling me average and predictable is one of the worst things you can do. I am NOT a PCW Hall of Famer for being f*cking average, Kyle. I haven't busted my ass and got to where I am at for being F*CKING AVERAGE.
Crazy Boy sits up on the couch and leans his head back. His eyes slowly open, flickering like wildfire as he smirks, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
(CB) I've seen your kind before, kid. The cocky, arrogant PUNK that thinks they can walk all over the veteran just because they may be a little younger, smarter, faster and stronger than them. Hell, I was in your shoes once in my career, but then I grew the hell up. I have learned that you don't underestimate anyone in this business, because if you do, you won't get far. No matter who you face, you can always make a mistake, or a lapse in judgment and it could cost you a match, a title or even your career.
Crazy Boy snickers again, shaking his head slightly, his shorter hair waving around his head.
(CB) You haven't been around these parts for a long time, Kyle, so I can't blame you for not doing your research in it's entirety. After all, 10 years in the same company is a long time, so I can't fault you for not knowing every single detail. But there is one thing you should know and that is WHY I am called Crazy Boy.
The Crazy One reaches up and pulls up his sweaty t-shirt, showing off a couple of scars that run across his chest and back. He points to another scar that is under his right eye. he pulls up his sweat pants, showing a couple of deep scars that is around his knee and runs up the side of his leg.
(CB) It's because not only do I have multiple personality disorder, I am not afraid do put my body on the line, doing anything AND EVERYTHING to win a match. I have broke bones, tore muscles, bled buckets and nearly ended my career several times, and yet here I am, still standing, still ready for more. There isn't anything that you can do that I haven't already seen or happened to me already, and at Trauma 206, Kyle, I will show you how f*cking crazy I can be.
Tyrone chuckles softly again, getting up from the couch, walking toward the glass sliding door that leads to the balcony as he opens the door, a gust of wind hitting his face, as the door closes loudly behind him, letting this fade to black.
Static and fade.
End.
The show opens up with Tyrone sitting in his living room in his beach house, eyes closed and a scowl on his face. His normally long, blonde hair has been cut shorter and he is growing a goatee of sorts that looks unkempt. He is mumbling something to himself, the audio not picking up any of the words, as his eyes open, looking tired and bloodshot as he slowly gets up from the leather couch. He walks to the wall of the room, staring at it for a few seconds before letting out a blood curling scream, punching the wall hard enough to put a hole in it. In the background, you can see Crazy Boy's older brother, Carlos, run toward the forlorn superstar, putting his hands on his shoulders, shaking him wildly.
(Carlos) Tyrone, calm down! Pitching a fit is not going to solve anything! Sure, you lost another shot at becoming the Underground Champion, but all you can do is pick yourself up and keep on going. You can't continue to drag yourself into the mud and beat yourself up over it. It's been 3 weeks. You will get another shot.
(CB) I am 36 years old now. My body isn't quite as resilient and agile as it used to be. I'm not sure I will get that many opportunities anymore, and I'm squandering every single one that I get. I just don't know how much heartache I can take anymore.
(Carlos) I know that you want the gold around your waist, but you just have to take advantage of the opportunities you DO create. The last couple of times, you had it right in your hands, but you didn't take advantage, either by your own idiocy, or your own stamina failing you. You just need to work on some calisthenics, that's all. Build your body up without the gym. Work on some running, some basic workout regimen and get you back stronger than ever. You'll get there. Age is just a number, after all.
Tyrone stares at the wall for a couple of moments, lost in thought, as he turns around and looks at his brother. His eyes seem to light up for a moment, then go back to the glassy, bloodshot look it has been for a few weeks now.
(CB) I guess I can try it. You are the gym owner. You have the degree in Sports Medicine. I'm sure you know what you are talking about. What do you have in mind?
(Carlos) Go get your workout clothes. Go get ready. We're going to go take a run down the beach.
The Crazy One stares at his older brother with confusion on his face.
(CB) I do that all the time. I run a few miles down the boardwalk a couple times a week. That isn't anything new.
(Carlos) Ah, but you always run down the boardwalk, but how about running on the actual beach? That will get your legs really moving and build muscle and stamina in your legs. You can run on the boardwalk all day, but until you actually push and challenge yourself, you are not going to see any more results.
(CB) Okay, okay. I get what you are saying. Give me a few minutes and let me go get ready. I'll just have to take your word on this.
(Carlos) We'll just take it easy for a bit. We'll ramp it up as time goes along. Don't want to kill you in the first go around.
That puts a smile on his face as he snickers.
(CB) Look at you, oh master of training. Thinking that I can't go for a while. It's just sand. How bad can it be?
Carlos smiles and shakes his head. He walks up to the Hall of Famer and puts a hand on his shoulder, a small laugh escaping his lips.
(Carlos) You really want to go? We can try it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you.
(CB) Yeah, I think I can handle a couple of miles on sand. You underestimate my abilities, Carlos.
(Carlos) Okay, Ty. Don't listen to the person who has the Bachelor's degree. Don't listen to the person that does this kind of stuff for a living. Don't come crying to me when it's too hard.
All Crazy Boy can do is shrug his shoulders as he walks down the narrow hallway to his bedroom, opening up a drawer to grab a few assorted items of clothing. As he walks back up to the large living room, he trots over and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He turns to his older brother and nods his head.
(CB) Let's go.
The veteran superstar and his brother walk across the room, opening the door to the outside as the show fades to black
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the show opens back up, it is about a half of hour later. The camera shows only black as you hear coughing and a lot of heavy breathing coming through the audio. The camera starts to add a little color and fading back in, like someone is just waking up. All the sudden a blur flies past the camera as the camera bursts with light. The camera turns around to follow the figure, but it is gone. Whoever it was, he or she was moving FAST! All the sudden, the blur starts coming again and it is shown as Carlos. He is comfortably running through the sands of the beaches behind the beach house, running back and forth with ease After a couple more moments, you can hear heavy wheezing and coughing as the Crazy One comes into view, hunched over. His face is bright red, sweat pouring down his face. He seems to be having a little trouble catching his breath.
(CB) How far was that, Carlos?
Carlos just shakes his head and takes a device out, looking at the screen.
(Carlos) About a mile. You sure you want to continue on, Ty? You look dead to the world. I told you this wouldn't be easy. Sand puts more weight on your legs and isn't as shock absorbent as concrete or wood. It will tire you out, trust me.
(CB) How do you DO this, Carlos? I'm dying over here!
(Carlos) I do this for a living, Ty. I run these beaches with some of my students and members of the gym a couple times a week. I'm used to it. I can run for miles now without killing myself. It's all about stamina and leg strength.
Tyrone struggles to open his bottle of water as he takes several large gulps of the drink, still struggling to catch his breath. The sweat is dripping off his face onto the coarse sand.
(CB) I see what you mean. My legs feel like jelly and feel like I can fall over anytime. I guess that means it is doing its job. I don't know how much more I can do today, but I would like to do this a couple more times before Trauma 206.
(Carlos) Oh trust me, I have you started on this regimen, I'm not going to let you stop. I am going to get you as comfortable running across sand as I am. Along the way, we'll add more odd and end exercises to do along the way. I am going to make this a workout that you won't soon forget.
The Crazy One nods and looks behind him, his beach house barely visible in the distance.
(CB) Can we walk back? I don't know if I can handle running all the way back.
Crazy Boy starts to walk toward the boardwalk, but Carlos coughs loudly, stopping the veteran superstar dead in his tracks.
(Carlos) I don't mind walking back, but we'll do it in the sand. Just because there's no running, doesn't mean I can't let up on you. Even walking in the sand is good for your legs.
All Tyrone can do is sigh as he walks up to his brother, taking another large sip out of his drink as they start walking back down the beach, Carlos talking to his brother the entire time, the show fading to black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The show opens back up with the Crazy One laying down on the couch in his living room. He is once again by himself, his brother leaving to go check up on the gym before heading home. He is breathing easier and more deliberate, the sweat almost a sticky gloss across his face as he is obviously trying to think about what to say about his match against Kyle Shane.
(CB) This match is going to show all of you, once and for all, that I am not a laughingstock of ANYONE and I still have some years left under my belt. I haven't been myself the past few months, losing matches I should have won, my head not being in the game the whole time. I have been thinking about irrelevant things, and it's been putting a toll on my career.
Crazy Boy continues to lay down on the couch, his breathing slowing and easier.
(CB) At Trauma 206, I face Kyle Shane, who seems to already want to get under my skin. Calling me average and predictable is one of the worst things you can do. I am NOT a PCW Hall of Famer for being f*cking average, Kyle. I haven't busted my ass and got to where I am at for being F*CKING AVERAGE.
Crazy Boy sits up on the couch and leans his head back. His eyes slowly open, flickering like wildfire as he smirks, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
(CB) I've seen your kind before, kid. The cocky, arrogant PUNK that thinks they can walk all over the veteran just because they may be a little younger, smarter, faster and stronger than them. Hell, I was in your shoes once in my career, but then I grew the hell up. I have learned that you don't underestimate anyone in this business, because if you do, you won't get far. No matter who you face, you can always make a mistake, or a lapse in judgment and it could cost you a match, a title or even your career.
Crazy Boy snickers again, shaking his head slightly, his shorter hair waving around his head.
(CB) You haven't been around these parts for a long time, Kyle, so I can't blame you for not doing your research in it's entirety. After all, 10 years in the same company is a long time, so I can't fault you for not knowing every single detail. But there is one thing you should know and that is WHY I am called Crazy Boy.
The Crazy One reaches up and pulls up his sweaty t-shirt, showing off a couple of scars that run across his chest and back. He points to another scar that is under his right eye. he pulls up his sweat pants, showing a couple of deep scars that is around his knee and runs up the side of his leg.
(CB) It's because not only do I have multiple personality disorder, I am not afraid do put my body on the line, doing anything AND EVERYTHING to win a match. I have broke bones, tore muscles, bled buckets and nearly ended my career several times, and yet here I am, still standing, still ready for more. There isn't anything that you can do that I haven't already seen or happened to me already, and at Trauma 206, Kyle, I will show you how f*cking crazy I can be.
Tyrone chuckles softly again, getting up from the couch, walking toward the glass sliding door that leads to the balcony as he opens the door, a gust of wind hitting his face, as the door closes loudly behind him, letting this fade to black.
Static and fade.
End.
