Post by Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith on May 22, 2017 20:58:35 GMT -5
A black, sleek Ford Mustang Shelby GT 500 can be seen leaving a beachhouse in the busy beaches of Biloxi, Mississippi, heading out in the cool, crisp night, toward the lights and sounds of the bustling and busy city. As the car drives turns onto Highway 90 from a red light, the scene flashes inside the car where it shows PCW superstar, Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith, with a scowl on his face. His body is bandaged up from the match against High Tide at the Icemann Invitation Tournament. When he gets to another red light, he slams his fists on the dashboard and mumbles softly to himself, knowing that he let a win slip away from him. When the light flashes green again, he slams on the gas, peeling out from the red light, as he growls in frustration, slamming his fists against the steering wheel.
CB: Maybe I just don't have it anymore. I can't seem to win a match for the life of me. First I lose another chance to win the Underground Championship, then I lose to High Tide multiple times, then lose to him again in the Icemann Invitational Tournament . Maybe I'm just not cut out for the business anymore.
Tyrone sighs and winces in pain, taking one hand off of the wheel to clutch his side as he shakes his head slowly, the bandages slowly unraveling from his head. The Crazy One just lowers his head and continues to speak.
CB: That's the way this business goes sometimes. And now I realize that I have an apology to make. It's long overdue and I think it's deserving for them. I'm talking about Cassie, Carlos, Tommy and most of the people in PCW. I should have realized that I'm a bit older and not resilient that I used to be. All I cared about was getting that one win and continue to put my body on the damn line week after week. I'm just a damn fool. The wins will come, I just have to adjust my style.
Crazy Boy growls at his latest apathetic state as he continues to speak.
CB: It took me losing to High Tide over and over again to realize that I need to adjust my style and quit hurting myself and cutting my career shorter than it will already be. I just need to play it a little safer and stop being such a damn daredevil.
Tyrone sighs as he drives his Shelby down the Mississippi highway, watching the scenery and hotels fly by his window like a blur as he turns down another road, headed toward the hotel he is staying at for the evening. As the scenery continues to fly by, Tyrone grabs a cd from his middle console and pops it in his player, the harsh sounds of Dr. Acula filling the mustang. As he starts to listen to the song "Shocker on Shock Street", he continues to speak.
CB: The Icemann Invitational, I had me another chance to prove myself in PCW and put me in a match against High Tide, who has been making my life hell the past 2 months. All I had to do was put on a good showing and maybe that would have put my career back on track, but I couldn't even do that. I completely humiliated myself everyone in PCW. I'm doing Pure Class Wrestling more harm than good, and frankly I don't think anyone would miss me if I left.
Tyrone just sighs and pulls up into a parking lot to a beachline parking lot and parks his Shelby in one of the parking spots, opening the door and gingerly taking a step out, walking toward one of the piers, a light limp in his left leg. He continues to speak as he slowly starts to make his way toward the end of the pier.
CB: So I just have to say one thing: I'm sorry PCW. I'm sorry everyone that busts their ass day in and day out. I'm sorry fans of Pure Class Wrestling. You will not hear from me again.
Tyrone walks to the end of the pier and stares out in the distance and then turns around, growling at the cameraman, forcefully covering the lens with his hand as the show fades to black.
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THE NEXT DAY
This portion opens up with Tyrone sitting down in his beachhouse, sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. As he is staring a hole in the wall, he feels his phone vibrate with a barrage of text messages. The Crazy One sighs as he slowly reaches in his pocket, grabbing his cell phone to take a look at the messages. When he realizes that it's from PCW, announcing the next card, he almost doesn't read it, standing up to put the phone in his room, but he stops in his tracks and takes a seat in one of the chairs next to the front door. He clicks on a couple of links that direct him to the card from his cell phone as he scrolls down the card. When he finds out his name, he takes a close look at the match that he is in:
Last Chance battle Royale in the Icemann Invitational.
Tyrone can only stare at his phone in disbelief for a few moments before putting it back in his pocket. After the initial shock wears off, he shakes his head slowly, thinking this may be some kind of cruel joke, the Gods laughing at him.
CB: I don't believe this! Is this PCW's idea of a damn joke? What have I done to even get close to get another shot in the tournament, much less a battle royale? I haven't won a match in a month, at least. I haven't done much of anything of relevance at all. And they are giving me a another shot at the tournament?!
Tyrone picks up a bag that is sitting by the front door and flings open the front door to the beach house, gingerly walking toward his car. As he walks across the parking lot on the cool day, Tyrone continues to speak.
CB: Okay PCW, I'll play your little game. I'll bite. I appreciate the fact that you think I'm worthy of a another tournament shot, and apparently, you really want me to stay around. I don't know what I have done do deserve any of this, but I guess I can consider this a third chance. I don't see why you would give someone like me so many chances, but I won't mess this one up. I will go out there, face everyone in that battle royale like a man, give it my all, put on a good show hopefully, and maybe.. just lucky.. the gods will smile on me at Trauma 212 and I will actually achieve something in my ten years in Pure Class Wrestling.
Tyrone cackles and throws the bag in the backseat of his car and slowly makes his way into the front seat of his car, wincing in pain as he cranks up his mustang and pulls out of the parking lot. He continues to speak, chuckling in between some of the words, a fire seemingly being lit under the older Tyrone's ass.
CB: I know that everyone has gotten the best of me in the past few months, and I know that I'm not in a lot in your leagues, but I am going to go out there and give it the best shot I can damn well give. PCW is one of the best federations in the whole world, and I have all the respect in the world for you all. But just know this, ladies and gentlemen. There is a time in a man's life where you just step back and wonder where the hell you have gone wrong in your life, and I've been doing quite a bit of that lately. I keep getting shot after shot to prove myself in Pure Class Wrestling, and I know that I'm running out of shots and time. I have so much to prove, and a lot of you have already proven everything there is. All I can say to you all is don't get cocky. Even though I am in quite a slump lately, you still know that I'm one of the most underrated and best superstars in the world myself. I thrive on people making one little mistake. You make one little mistake, and I will capatilize and finally get a win in the Icemann Invitational, which would be my first one in my history.
As Tyrone starts to pull off onto the main highway, he clutches the steering wheel until his knuckles start to turn white. He tilts his head slightly to the right as he chuckles, continuing to speak.
CB: This is my shot. This is my proving grounds. This is my chance. And you will will NOT take it from me.
As Tyrone pulls up to his brother's gym, he steps out and takes a look around. Nothing out of the ordinary as he walks in. You can see his brother, Carlos, talking to a familiar looking female. The Crazy One can't put a finger on it, but she seems strangely familiar. She has long, blonde hair, and has somewhat of a slender frame. Her eyes are piercing blue and her smile seems warm, yet a little cold at the same time. As Crazy Boy is studying her, Carlos walks up to him and pats him on the shoulder.
Carlos: She needs to talk. We haven't seen her in 15 years.
Crazy Boy's eyes bulge out of his head as the familiarity and memories come rushing back to him. The long, lost Smith sibling that was estranged from the family 15 years ago because of a certain incident.
His younger sister... Brooklynn.
Static and fade.
End.
CB: Maybe I just don't have it anymore. I can't seem to win a match for the life of me. First I lose another chance to win the Underground Championship, then I lose to High Tide multiple times, then lose to him again in the Icemann Invitational Tournament . Maybe I'm just not cut out for the business anymore.
Tyrone sighs and winces in pain, taking one hand off of the wheel to clutch his side as he shakes his head slowly, the bandages slowly unraveling from his head. The Crazy One just lowers his head and continues to speak.
CB: That's the way this business goes sometimes. And now I realize that I have an apology to make. It's long overdue and I think it's deserving for them. I'm talking about Cassie, Carlos, Tommy and most of the people in PCW. I should have realized that I'm a bit older and not resilient that I used to be. All I cared about was getting that one win and continue to put my body on the damn line week after week. I'm just a damn fool. The wins will come, I just have to adjust my style.
Crazy Boy growls at his latest apathetic state as he continues to speak.
CB: It took me losing to High Tide over and over again to realize that I need to adjust my style and quit hurting myself and cutting my career shorter than it will already be. I just need to play it a little safer and stop being such a damn daredevil.
Tyrone sighs as he drives his Shelby down the Mississippi highway, watching the scenery and hotels fly by his window like a blur as he turns down another road, headed toward the hotel he is staying at for the evening. As the scenery continues to fly by, Tyrone grabs a cd from his middle console and pops it in his player, the harsh sounds of Dr. Acula filling the mustang. As he starts to listen to the song "Shocker on Shock Street", he continues to speak.
CB: The Icemann Invitational, I had me another chance to prove myself in PCW and put me in a match against High Tide, who has been making my life hell the past 2 months. All I had to do was put on a good showing and maybe that would have put my career back on track, but I couldn't even do that. I completely humiliated myself everyone in PCW. I'm doing Pure Class Wrestling more harm than good, and frankly I don't think anyone would miss me if I left.
Tyrone just sighs and pulls up into a parking lot to a beachline parking lot and parks his Shelby in one of the parking spots, opening the door and gingerly taking a step out, walking toward one of the piers, a light limp in his left leg. He continues to speak as he slowly starts to make his way toward the end of the pier.
CB: So I just have to say one thing: I'm sorry PCW. I'm sorry everyone that busts their ass day in and day out. I'm sorry fans of Pure Class Wrestling. You will not hear from me again.
Tyrone walks to the end of the pier and stares out in the distance and then turns around, growling at the cameraman, forcefully covering the lens with his hand as the show fades to black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE NEXT DAY
This portion opens up with Tyrone sitting down in his beachhouse, sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. As he is staring a hole in the wall, he feels his phone vibrate with a barrage of text messages. The Crazy One sighs as he slowly reaches in his pocket, grabbing his cell phone to take a look at the messages. When he realizes that it's from PCW, announcing the next card, he almost doesn't read it, standing up to put the phone in his room, but he stops in his tracks and takes a seat in one of the chairs next to the front door. He clicks on a couple of links that direct him to the card from his cell phone as he scrolls down the card. When he finds out his name, he takes a close look at the match that he is in:
Last Chance battle Royale in the Icemann Invitational.
Tyrone can only stare at his phone in disbelief for a few moments before putting it back in his pocket. After the initial shock wears off, he shakes his head slowly, thinking this may be some kind of cruel joke, the Gods laughing at him.
CB: I don't believe this! Is this PCW's idea of a damn joke? What have I done to even get close to get another shot in the tournament, much less a battle royale? I haven't won a match in a month, at least. I haven't done much of anything of relevance at all. And they are giving me a another shot at the tournament?!
Tyrone picks up a bag that is sitting by the front door and flings open the front door to the beach house, gingerly walking toward his car. As he walks across the parking lot on the cool day, Tyrone continues to speak.
CB: Okay PCW, I'll play your little game. I'll bite. I appreciate the fact that you think I'm worthy of a another tournament shot, and apparently, you really want me to stay around. I don't know what I have done do deserve any of this, but I guess I can consider this a third chance. I don't see why you would give someone like me so many chances, but I won't mess this one up. I will go out there, face everyone in that battle royale like a man, give it my all, put on a good show hopefully, and maybe.. just lucky.. the gods will smile on me at Trauma 212 and I will actually achieve something in my ten years in Pure Class Wrestling.
Tyrone cackles and throws the bag in the backseat of his car and slowly makes his way into the front seat of his car, wincing in pain as he cranks up his mustang and pulls out of the parking lot. He continues to speak, chuckling in between some of the words, a fire seemingly being lit under the older Tyrone's ass.
CB: I know that everyone has gotten the best of me in the past few months, and I know that I'm not in a lot in your leagues, but I am going to go out there and give it the best shot I can damn well give. PCW is one of the best federations in the whole world, and I have all the respect in the world for you all. But just know this, ladies and gentlemen. There is a time in a man's life where you just step back and wonder where the hell you have gone wrong in your life, and I've been doing quite a bit of that lately. I keep getting shot after shot to prove myself in Pure Class Wrestling, and I know that I'm running out of shots and time. I have so much to prove, and a lot of you have already proven everything there is. All I can say to you all is don't get cocky. Even though I am in quite a slump lately, you still know that I'm one of the most underrated and best superstars in the world myself. I thrive on people making one little mistake. You make one little mistake, and I will capatilize and finally get a win in the Icemann Invitational, which would be my first one in my history.
As Tyrone starts to pull off onto the main highway, he clutches the steering wheel until his knuckles start to turn white. He tilts his head slightly to the right as he chuckles, continuing to speak.
CB: This is my shot. This is my proving grounds. This is my chance. And you will will NOT take it from me.
As Tyrone pulls up to his brother's gym, he steps out and takes a look around. Nothing out of the ordinary as he walks in. You can see his brother, Carlos, talking to a familiar looking female. The Crazy One can't put a finger on it, but she seems strangely familiar. She has long, blonde hair, and has somewhat of a slender frame. Her eyes are piercing blue and her smile seems warm, yet a little cold at the same time. As Crazy Boy is studying her, Carlos walks up to him and pats him on the shoulder.
Carlos: She needs to talk. We haven't seen her in 15 years.
Crazy Boy's eyes bulge out of his head as the familiarity and memories come rushing back to him. The long, lost Smith sibling that was estranged from the family 15 years ago because of a certain incident.
His younger sister... Brooklynn.
Static and fade.
End.