Post by Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith on May 20, 2019 18:28:15 GMT -5
Underground Rules. Underground Championship. The thought would normally make Tyrone “Crazy Boy” Smith jump for joy. After all, Crazy Boy has made his name in hardcore and extreme rule matches. He has been in every kind of hardcore match imaginable: Light tube Log Cabin, Tables, Ladder Match, No Holds Barred.
Normally, Crazy Boy would jump at the opportunity, foaming at the mouth for a match like this, but this time Tyrone isn’t smiling. As he is approaching 40 years old, his body isn’t as durable and can’t take as much stress as it used to be able to.
But if he wants to prove to Pure Class Wrestling that he is the king of Underground and live up to the style of match that he feels so comfortable in.
He is going to have to step out of his comfort zone at Trauma if he is going to succeed.
The scene opens up in Tyrone’s older brother’s gym. Normally, he would be working out or doing some sparring session in the ring to get ready for an upcoming match, but this time he is sitting in his brother, Carlos’s, office. He is staring at the wall, a frustrated look on his face as he doesn’t notice Carlos making his round around the gym. Tyrone’s eyes are almost glazed over before Carlos makes his way into his office. He glares at his younger brother and shakes his head slowly.
“You can’t be moping in my office all day, Tyrone. Either cheer up and get out there and train, or go home and spend time with your wife. You can’t be here all day though!”
Tyrone shakes his head furiously, life returning to his eyes as he blinks twice, looking up at Carlos with a frustrated look on his face.
“I just don’t know Carlos. I have all these scars on my body and memories of broken bones and black eyes. I am really looking forward to Underground rules matches. That is up my alley, and you know that. But I don’t know if I can handle this match at Trauma.”
Carlos sighs and walks to his desk, sitting down in the chair and stares at his distraught brother. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and grabs a few papers and a pen, writing down some membership information on some forms.
“You have to get over this, Ty. You can’t continue to let your career go into flux because you are getting older. You are just going to have to accept the fact that you are older and you are going to have to vary up your wrestling style to match your age and your deteriorating body. And you wonder why you are floundering while there have been all of these guys passing you by, becoming world champions and champions in their own right. You are a Hall of Famer and you have NOTHING to show for it since you’ve gotten inducted.”
That gets Tyrone’s attention. His head whips toward his brother, his eyes showing fire, but his face still showing frustration. He sighs heavily and rubs his temples slightly, trying to get rid of a headache that is forming.
“You don’t understand, Carlos. I’ve done everything there is to do in this business. I haven’t accepted the fact that I’ve almost become a “pass the torch” kind of guy. I feel like I still have some gas left in the tank. It’s still a little rough on me, but I’ve learned to adapt and adjust to where my wrestling style has changed. I still feel like I can bring out the wild side and show these young guys that the old guard still has a few tricks up his sleeve. I need this win, Carlos. I need to win the Underground Championship, not only for me, but for my sanity too.”
Carlos sighs and looks up from his papers and rolls his chair to the computer and boots up the internet. He types on the keyboard a few times and pulls up a video.
“Come here for a minute, Ty. You need to see this.”
The Crazy One sighs and gets up from the chair and walks up behind his brother as the video is played. Slowly the promo from Razor Blade appears. Crazy Boy halfheartedly pays attention to the promo until he gets to what he has to say about the veteran superstar. As he runs him down, calling him basically a nobody, that actually gets Crazy Boy’s blood boiling. You can see his knuckles turning white from the clenched fists and his face turning a shade of red. Carlos flips off the video and turns back toward the desk, looking his ever growing angry brother.
“Look at that. Some of your opponents are not even acknowledging your presence. Razor Blade just blatantly acted like you don’t exist. To him, you are so insignificant that she just completely snubs your existence. This is what you have to deal with. It doesn’t matter who your opponent is, if you act like a bitch, you will be treated like a bitch.”
Crazy Boy is a little taken back by Carlos’ words but just nods his head slowly.
“I’m tired of people underestimating me. Treating me so insignificant that I am not even worth the mud under their shoes. I’m sick and tired of it. But this is hard for me Carlos. For over 20 years, I have dazzled and sacrificed my body doing what I love. These scars and broken bones prove that. I know I have to do these things to further my career, but if you follow something for so long, it’s hard to break, you know. I’m still not sure if I’ll be able to adjust completely and throw my more hardcore life out of the window, but if it’s to further my career and save my body, then it’s something that I will have to do.”
Carlos just shrugs his shoulders and gets back to what he was doing with his paperwork.
“Do what you want, Tyrone. I did my peace. Darren Hughes hasn’t done a promo, so I can’t really tell you what’s on his mind. And Sicko, the champion? He hasn’t said anything either, but usually his promos and what he says sound like a bunch of nonsense, but let me tell you this, younger brother. If you continue down this way, you will just continue to spin your wheels like you are now. Don’t sit idly, Ty. No matter how hard it can be, you need to do something, or your career is just going to flounder.”
The Crazy One gets up from the chair and pounds his fists on Carlos’s desk, his face turning a bright shade of crimson red.
“I KNOW THIS CARLOS! I know that my career is in flux right now. But it’s hard for me to this when it was hardwired into my being for so long. I’m going to go out there and do my thing, but I can’t in my right mind just flip a switch and not think hardcore when I’m in these kind of matches. It’s just not me. I’ll go out there and just do what I know what I am capable of and be the best performer in the ring. I have to sacrifice my body a little more. I need to become a champion once again.”
Carlos just shrugs his shoulders, not looking up from his paper work as Crazy Boy sighs in exasperation and tells his brother he is going to do some training. He leaves the office and jumps on one of the weight machines as the thoughts course through his mind.
He is going to get the job done at Trauma. It’s just going to have to be a different approach that what everyone else is going to be used to.
Static and Fade
End.
Normally, Crazy Boy would jump at the opportunity, foaming at the mouth for a match like this, but this time Tyrone isn’t smiling. As he is approaching 40 years old, his body isn’t as durable and can’t take as much stress as it used to be able to.
But if he wants to prove to Pure Class Wrestling that he is the king of Underground and live up to the style of match that he feels so comfortable in.
He is going to have to step out of his comfort zone at Trauma if he is going to succeed.
The scene opens up in Tyrone’s older brother’s gym. Normally, he would be working out or doing some sparring session in the ring to get ready for an upcoming match, but this time he is sitting in his brother, Carlos’s, office. He is staring at the wall, a frustrated look on his face as he doesn’t notice Carlos making his round around the gym. Tyrone’s eyes are almost glazed over before Carlos makes his way into his office. He glares at his younger brother and shakes his head slowly.
“You can’t be moping in my office all day, Tyrone. Either cheer up and get out there and train, or go home and spend time with your wife. You can’t be here all day though!”
Tyrone shakes his head furiously, life returning to his eyes as he blinks twice, looking up at Carlos with a frustrated look on his face.
“I just don’t know Carlos. I have all these scars on my body and memories of broken bones and black eyes. I am really looking forward to Underground rules matches. That is up my alley, and you know that. But I don’t know if I can handle this match at Trauma.”
Carlos sighs and walks to his desk, sitting down in the chair and stares at his distraught brother. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and grabs a few papers and a pen, writing down some membership information on some forms.
“You have to get over this, Ty. You can’t continue to let your career go into flux because you are getting older. You are just going to have to accept the fact that you are older and you are going to have to vary up your wrestling style to match your age and your deteriorating body. And you wonder why you are floundering while there have been all of these guys passing you by, becoming world champions and champions in their own right. You are a Hall of Famer and you have NOTHING to show for it since you’ve gotten inducted.”
That gets Tyrone’s attention. His head whips toward his brother, his eyes showing fire, but his face still showing frustration. He sighs heavily and rubs his temples slightly, trying to get rid of a headache that is forming.
“You don’t understand, Carlos. I’ve done everything there is to do in this business. I haven’t accepted the fact that I’ve almost become a “pass the torch” kind of guy. I feel like I still have some gas left in the tank. It’s still a little rough on me, but I’ve learned to adapt and adjust to where my wrestling style has changed. I still feel like I can bring out the wild side and show these young guys that the old guard still has a few tricks up his sleeve. I need this win, Carlos. I need to win the Underground Championship, not only for me, but for my sanity too.”
Carlos sighs and looks up from his papers and rolls his chair to the computer and boots up the internet. He types on the keyboard a few times and pulls up a video.
“Come here for a minute, Ty. You need to see this.”
The Crazy One sighs and gets up from the chair and walks up behind his brother as the video is played. Slowly the promo from Razor Blade appears. Crazy Boy halfheartedly pays attention to the promo until he gets to what he has to say about the veteran superstar. As he runs him down, calling him basically a nobody, that actually gets Crazy Boy’s blood boiling. You can see his knuckles turning white from the clenched fists and his face turning a shade of red. Carlos flips off the video and turns back toward the desk, looking his ever growing angry brother.
“Look at that. Some of your opponents are not even acknowledging your presence. Razor Blade just blatantly acted like you don’t exist. To him, you are so insignificant that she just completely snubs your existence. This is what you have to deal with. It doesn’t matter who your opponent is, if you act like a bitch, you will be treated like a bitch.”
Crazy Boy is a little taken back by Carlos’ words but just nods his head slowly.
“I’m tired of people underestimating me. Treating me so insignificant that I am not even worth the mud under their shoes. I’m sick and tired of it. But this is hard for me Carlos. For over 20 years, I have dazzled and sacrificed my body doing what I love. These scars and broken bones prove that. I know I have to do these things to further my career, but if you follow something for so long, it’s hard to break, you know. I’m still not sure if I’ll be able to adjust completely and throw my more hardcore life out of the window, but if it’s to further my career and save my body, then it’s something that I will have to do.”
Carlos just shrugs his shoulders and gets back to what he was doing with his paperwork.
“Do what you want, Tyrone. I did my peace. Darren Hughes hasn’t done a promo, so I can’t really tell you what’s on his mind. And Sicko, the champion? He hasn’t said anything either, but usually his promos and what he says sound like a bunch of nonsense, but let me tell you this, younger brother. If you continue down this way, you will just continue to spin your wheels like you are now. Don’t sit idly, Ty. No matter how hard it can be, you need to do something, or your career is just going to flounder.”
The Crazy One gets up from the chair and pounds his fists on Carlos’s desk, his face turning a bright shade of crimson red.
“I KNOW THIS CARLOS! I know that my career is in flux right now. But it’s hard for me to this when it was hardwired into my being for so long. I’m going to go out there and do my thing, but I can’t in my right mind just flip a switch and not think hardcore when I’m in these kind of matches. It’s just not me. I’ll go out there and just do what I know what I am capable of and be the best performer in the ring. I have to sacrifice my body a little more. I need to become a champion once again.”
Carlos just shrugs his shoulders, not looking up from his paper work as Crazy Boy sighs in exasperation and tells his brother he is going to do some training. He leaves the office and jumps on one of the weight machines as the thoughts course through his mind.
He is going to get the job done at Trauma. It’s just going to have to be a different approach that what everyone else is going to be used to.
Static and Fade
End.
