Post by Kyle Shane on Jun 5, 2017 6:45:34 GMT -5
It's finally happening.
Weeks of hard work and preparation have all come down to this. The ranks of Pure Championship Wrestling, after having being on life support so long, flared to life thanks to the efforts of... okay, a few individuals in the Icemann Invitational Tournament. I would say every one's been busting their ass, but we know that's not true. If this was the Battle City Finals in Yu-Gi-Oh, you'd all have crapped out in the first round. And those that are left, it wouldn't take a dark magician to blow them away.
HP: 4000 and falling...
Over the past couple of weeks, something strange has happened, and it came to a head this past week on Trauma. Throughout the IceMann Invational series, being so frequently asked the question of what it took to beat all the competition, even the biggest and potentially strongest person on the roster in Hiroshi Yukio; Despite it being hammered into my head over and over again that Hiroshi was a crowd favorite and force to be reckoned with, Kyle Shane was beginning to have sympathy for the devil played for him. To the point that on Trauma, people were CHEERING FOR ME against Hiroshi. It's a weird thing, but the question is look out my motivation stacked next to his. He doesn't care about building the Underground division up at all. All Hiroshi wants is another check mark on his resume and a big win over Kyle Shane to brag about. But when I checked his references I found one, big, glaring omission. A supposed strong background, an intimidating presence in the Underground scene before... but where did that pay off into championship gold? He may have won sashes, and gold stars in his sumo career, but being heavy and immobile ain't gonna get you a Gold star here.
HP: -1200.
I do find it hilarious how obsessed you are with me, Hiroshi. He name drops me like a teenager writing in her diary about that boy she wants to take her to the Sadie Hawkins dance. It's cute, in it's way, also it just underscores what's so pathetic about you, Hiroshi. Until the past few weeks I never noticed how petty and sad you are. Everything I said last week remains true, and you couldn't even dispute it. You're too arrogant for your own good, and even by kicking my ass. Yeah, I've been open with it. You beat my ass even when I took a weapon to you. I suppose you're expecting me to cry about it. No, instead, I'm gonna applaud you for taking me down before since you've spent so much time talking about how many you've got over Kyle Shane. You finally got one, you seem to finally at last have the Underground Champion where you want him, so I will clap for you. Because you've activated my trap card. The problem it brings up though, is, you've been expertly manipulated into this spot. You've been lead to believe that I've hit you with my strongest attacks and you've shrugged them off. But conversely, I hit you with attacks that were less devastating, but put you off your game and cost you in two matches... so now, you're seeing red. Now you're angry enough to charge blindly, and stupid enough to think that you're in a position where you can trample over the champion with ease. And the more you think you're the favorites to win, when you get taken down by the skinny weak kid who could do you no damage, then what'll hurt worse? You eating a chair shot to the back, and then laying me out and looking strong one week, or you finally getting the shot to step up and claim the title of the hardcore division you claim to be an expert in and losing on the biggest stage of them all?
HP: -750.
But beating you is just the beginning, Hiroshi. My eyes are firmly set right through you, to the finals of the tournament that I screwed you out of. I did that to get the biggest obstacle out of the way, but then the finals itself became an even bigger obstacle than your wide butt, big boy. The Finals of TIIT became my final vindication. You just became the icing on the cake. If I could have the cake and eat it too, I'd be the envy of everyone at the soiree. But to get through that round, I had some strong cards to play, and then the opposing dealer laid down two of the most devastating hands. Now I know I'm in for a real fight... and this next hand is where I earn it. First with Non Compos Mentis. A past time winner, multiple time World champion and having held every single title I can see, a clear favorite to make it through this thing and most established ass-kicker. But the thing is, where's his heart?! NCM, your return set off chain reactions, but since then it's been shockingly tame. This tournament was supposed to highlight the best of the best, but he opened it with a cruising win over a man named SAM, who didn't even know NCM would be competing. And he was so weak that he has yet to be seen in a ring since. NCM had beat NEARLY all the competition, kept his head under NEARLY every circumstance. NCM, You have an army of homeless people at your beck and call like Seromine has his followers. You bring the entire soup kitchen marching out there with you at a moment's notice like some bargain basement Pied Piper. You get by on DQ's and cheap ways to win, and that doesn't signify you're the best. But your record is fluffed up so much by the time you even set your filthy foot back in here, everyone wanted to be the one that ends the run of Non Compose Mentis. And they tried, but where the weak competition in the opening round failed, I am going to be the one that succeeded, and we won't even necessarily have to pin you. Just outlast you. You should have quit when you were ahead. Because now that your return has been shut down in a crucial moment, you don't have the heart to beat it back. Shut down, by Seromine's flock, headed by a man who I beat badly enough to shame him into self-flagellation. Gabriel put you out of the tournament entirely, and while some equations in wrestling aren't that simple, I refuse to believe one and one don't equal a simple expression. You were out of the tournament, point blank, and you only won your way back in via a loophole. The Last Chance Battle Royale, an addition to TIIT for... reasons, being the ability for a loser to win his way back in after being cast out, as if that doesn't completely devalue the point of getting to the finals of the tournament itself. And when you got in that, you didn't dominate, you instead scraped a lucky win by a mentally ill clown. Your past few weeks have been rough, Compy. Allow me to make them rougher. Besides picking the bones of the weak competition and upsetting a pair of unfocused and arrogant battle royalers, what has he done? Nothing. NCM is playing the part of Joey Wheeler in this Battle City Finals. He's enhancement only, he'll talk a big game and bluster about his toughness, but in the end he's going to drop out to build up to the confrontation for the big prize of the tournament.
HP: -1000.
That would leave our "Kaiba". The biggest gun. The one with the strongest tricks in her arsenal, the most unpredictable moves, for most... but the one who is always destined to lose. Alexandra Tamora... the hottest new acquisition to PCW since... well, Kyle Shane, back in November, who by the time he was in the same time-frame she's arrived at now, had already left a much wider historical footprint. I find Tamora fascinating, having studied her profile she put up extensively, and I can't tell if we should shove her in a mental hospital and get her doped up to the gills, because her story falls apart like wet toilet paper, or if we should give her some kind of ribbon or award for being the worst time traveller that history has ever seen. Either way, it's about the plot of 12 Monkeys, right?
HP: -850.
Cold hard facts. (aka don't fuck with a professional nerd): If Alexandra Tamora was a real time traveller, and I dunno, not a hack, then going around as fast and loose as she does then she would pretty much be breaking the space time continuum and putting earth in danger. That's, like, one episode of Doctor Who-worth'a fucking duh. I'm actually about to break poor Tamora's gimmick so bad because it's patently absurd. If she is on a mission and not just a tourist, then being so loud and obvious as to be on TV would be messing with the world in a way that could endanger her own timeline. But if she came here specifically to stop something from happening in her future, then she could end up wiping herself from existence in the event she succeeds at doing anything. Yeah. Not optimal for a time traveller to be messing with a job that includes if simply kicking a person in the genitals and rupturing a testicle means that an entire line of kings gets wiped out of existence in the future. But, conversely to that, it speaks to the fact that if she's here to stop me from winning the Icemann Invitational, and therefore the World Title then it only makes sense that I was supposed to win. Bear that theory out. If someone came from the future to prevent something from happening, it's either pretty great, or pretty terrible. But the reason that Tamora has no chance of changing history is besides the fact that, sloppy Clouseau of time or just an idiot that stumbled into a time machine, either way, she does not have the skill. Nor has she left enough of a footprint here to matter. Once you get past the wackiness of Tamora, she just doesn't feel important enough. It's a limited shelf life. And that's probably why even though she did, cleanly win her way through MOST of the Icemann Tournament... it didn't feel like it mattered when she got to the finals. I got there myself, after week after week of scratching, and clawing. I bled, and sacrificed for my spot. I put my Underground championship up on the line every week. That meant that I put into this something I would be willing to lose, and I still won. Now, I took some bad hits. I didn't always look strong. But that does not matter. Not from my perspective. I see it as losing hit points... but as many times as I've been knocked down, I have risen back up every time. I've been quietly building my resolve for this final hand to be played, when all the cards get laid on the table, and I walk away from the two biggest matches of my life. This then is my strongest card to play. This is my Blue Eyes White Dragon. I have put my faith in the heart of the cards, the core of strength that's made me a champion before. This is me at my most focused and unfuckwithable. If you're the on the other side of the field, you are going to be sent to the shadows, 'cause unlike me, you just don't have the heart to win.
-200/HP, boys and girls...
Endgame.
Weeks of hard work and preparation have all come down to this. The ranks of Pure Championship Wrestling, after having being on life support so long, flared to life thanks to the efforts of... okay, a few individuals in the Icemann Invitational Tournament. I would say every one's been busting their ass, but we know that's not true. If this was the Battle City Finals in Yu-Gi-Oh, you'd all have crapped out in the first round. And those that are left, it wouldn't take a dark magician to blow them away.
HP: 4000 and falling...
Over the past couple of weeks, something strange has happened, and it came to a head this past week on Trauma. Throughout the IceMann Invational series, being so frequently asked the question of what it took to beat all the competition, even the biggest and potentially strongest person on the roster in Hiroshi Yukio; Despite it being hammered into my head over and over again that Hiroshi was a crowd favorite and force to be reckoned with, Kyle Shane was beginning to have sympathy for the devil played for him. To the point that on Trauma, people were CHEERING FOR ME against Hiroshi. It's a weird thing, but the question is look out my motivation stacked next to his. He doesn't care about building the Underground division up at all. All Hiroshi wants is another check mark on his resume and a big win over Kyle Shane to brag about. But when I checked his references I found one, big, glaring omission. A supposed strong background, an intimidating presence in the Underground scene before... but where did that pay off into championship gold? He may have won sashes, and gold stars in his sumo career, but being heavy and immobile ain't gonna get you a Gold star here.
HP: -1200.
I do find it hilarious how obsessed you are with me, Hiroshi. He name drops me like a teenager writing in her diary about that boy she wants to take her to the Sadie Hawkins dance. It's cute, in it's way, also it just underscores what's so pathetic about you, Hiroshi. Until the past few weeks I never noticed how petty and sad you are. Everything I said last week remains true, and you couldn't even dispute it. You're too arrogant for your own good, and even by kicking my ass. Yeah, I've been open with it. You beat my ass even when I took a weapon to you. I suppose you're expecting me to cry about it. No, instead, I'm gonna applaud you for taking me down before since you've spent so much time talking about how many you've got over Kyle Shane. You finally got one, you seem to finally at last have the Underground Champion where you want him, so I will clap for you. Because you've activated my trap card. The problem it brings up though, is, you've been expertly manipulated into this spot. You've been lead to believe that I've hit you with my strongest attacks and you've shrugged them off. But conversely, I hit you with attacks that were less devastating, but put you off your game and cost you in two matches... so now, you're seeing red. Now you're angry enough to charge blindly, and stupid enough to think that you're in a position where you can trample over the champion with ease. And the more you think you're the favorites to win, when you get taken down by the skinny weak kid who could do you no damage, then what'll hurt worse? You eating a chair shot to the back, and then laying me out and looking strong one week, or you finally getting the shot to step up and claim the title of the hardcore division you claim to be an expert in and losing on the biggest stage of them all?
HP: -750.
But beating you is just the beginning, Hiroshi. My eyes are firmly set right through you, to the finals of the tournament that I screwed you out of. I did that to get the biggest obstacle out of the way, but then the finals itself became an even bigger obstacle than your wide butt, big boy. The Finals of TIIT became my final vindication. You just became the icing on the cake. If I could have the cake and eat it too, I'd be the envy of everyone at the soiree. But to get through that round, I had some strong cards to play, and then the opposing dealer laid down two of the most devastating hands. Now I know I'm in for a real fight... and this next hand is where I earn it. First with Non Compos Mentis. A past time winner, multiple time World champion and having held every single title I can see, a clear favorite to make it through this thing and most established ass-kicker. But the thing is, where's his heart?! NCM, your return set off chain reactions, but since then it's been shockingly tame. This tournament was supposed to highlight the best of the best, but he opened it with a cruising win over a man named SAM, who didn't even know NCM would be competing. And he was so weak that he has yet to be seen in a ring since. NCM had beat NEARLY all the competition, kept his head under NEARLY every circumstance. NCM, You have an army of homeless people at your beck and call like Seromine has his followers. You bring the entire soup kitchen marching out there with you at a moment's notice like some bargain basement Pied Piper. You get by on DQ's and cheap ways to win, and that doesn't signify you're the best. But your record is fluffed up so much by the time you even set your filthy foot back in here, everyone wanted to be the one that ends the run of Non Compose Mentis. And they tried, but where the weak competition in the opening round failed, I am going to be the one that succeeded, and we won't even necessarily have to pin you. Just outlast you. You should have quit when you were ahead. Because now that your return has been shut down in a crucial moment, you don't have the heart to beat it back. Shut down, by Seromine's flock, headed by a man who I beat badly enough to shame him into self-flagellation. Gabriel put you out of the tournament entirely, and while some equations in wrestling aren't that simple, I refuse to believe one and one don't equal a simple expression. You were out of the tournament, point blank, and you only won your way back in via a loophole. The Last Chance Battle Royale, an addition to TIIT for... reasons, being the ability for a loser to win his way back in after being cast out, as if that doesn't completely devalue the point of getting to the finals of the tournament itself. And when you got in that, you didn't dominate, you instead scraped a lucky win by a mentally ill clown. Your past few weeks have been rough, Compy. Allow me to make them rougher. Besides picking the bones of the weak competition and upsetting a pair of unfocused and arrogant battle royalers, what has he done? Nothing. NCM is playing the part of Joey Wheeler in this Battle City Finals. He's enhancement only, he'll talk a big game and bluster about his toughness, but in the end he's going to drop out to build up to the confrontation for the big prize of the tournament.
HP: -1000.
That would leave our "Kaiba". The biggest gun. The one with the strongest tricks in her arsenal, the most unpredictable moves, for most... but the one who is always destined to lose. Alexandra Tamora... the hottest new acquisition to PCW since... well, Kyle Shane, back in November, who by the time he was in the same time-frame she's arrived at now, had already left a much wider historical footprint. I find Tamora fascinating, having studied her profile she put up extensively, and I can't tell if we should shove her in a mental hospital and get her doped up to the gills, because her story falls apart like wet toilet paper, or if we should give her some kind of ribbon or award for being the worst time traveller that history has ever seen. Either way, it's about the plot of 12 Monkeys, right?
HP: -850.
Cold hard facts. (aka don't fuck with a professional nerd): If Alexandra Tamora was a real time traveller, and I dunno, not a hack, then going around as fast and loose as she does then she would pretty much be breaking the space time continuum and putting earth in danger. That's, like, one episode of Doctor Who-worth'a fucking duh. I'm actually about to break poor Tamora's gimmick so bad because it's patently absurd. If she is on a mission and not just a tourist, then being so loud and obvious as to be on TV would be messing with the world in a way that could endanger her own timeline. But if she came here specifically to stop something from happening in her future, then she could end up wiping herself from existence in the event she succeeds at doing anything. Yeah. Not optimal for a time traveller to be messing with a job that includes if simply kicking a person in the genitals and rupturing a testicle means that an entire line of kings gets wiped out of existence in the future. But, conversely to that, it speaks to the fact that if she's here to stop me from winning the Icemann Invitational, and therefore the World Title then it only makes sense that I was supposed to win. Bear that theory out. If someone came from the future to prevent something from happening, it's either pretty great, or pretty terrible. But the reason that Tamora has no chance of changing history is besides the fact that, sloppy Clouseau of time or just an idiot that stumbled into a time machine, either way, she does not have the skill. Nor has she left enough of a footprint here to matter. Once you get past the wackiness of Tamora, she just doesn't feel important enough. It's a limited shelf life. And that's probably why even though she did, cleanly win her way through MOST of the Icemann Tournament... it didn't feel like it mattered when she got to the finals. I got there myself, after week after week of scratching, and clawing. I bled, and sacrificed for my spot. I put my Underground championship up on the line every week. That meant that I put into this something I would be willing to lose, and I still won. Now, I took some bad hits. I didn't always look strong. But that does not matter. Not from my perspective. I see it as losing hit points... but as many times as I've been knocked down, I have risen back up every time. I've been quietly building my resolve for this final hand to be played, when all the cards get laid on the table, and I walk away from the two biggest matches of my life. This then is my strongest card to play. This is my Blue Eyes White Dragon. I have put my faith in the heart of the cards, the core of strength that's made me a champion before. This is me at my most focused and unfuckwithable. If you're the on the other side of the field, you are going to be sent to the shadows, 'cause unlike me, you just don't have the heart to win.
-200/HP, boys and girls...
Endgame.
