Post by The Anarchist on Sept 12, 2020 19:31:09 GMT -5
"Sooo. About Grimm."
Willard was frozen in place by Medusa. Thankfully for him the effect wasn't permanent. His efforts to have Melanie come over to him were almost fruitful, but then she had to have her attention pulled by something else.
This is when he looks up to the paragon of beauty and smiles. "Grimm? As in Phinehas? Uhh...well, you see..."
"You won't be alone for the match. Not this time."
"I wasn't alone the last few times, either. The referee was there and---"
"Babe." Here it comes. He picks himself back up and braces for a trip down memory lane.
-----
MASS DESTRUCTION IX - March 17, 2019
And Grimm is not pleased by the sight. Seromine lifts his head up. Sensing the inevitable, he fearfully eeks out "Mommy..." before the shovel is plunged diagonally between his eyes!! There is a mass collective chant of HOLY SHIT as the object is partially embedded. Blood spurts out of the wound. Grimm pulls it back as Seromine face plants on his hands. Grimm slams the shovel over and over and over to the head, neck, and back of Seromine, a play on his ABSOLUTION STOMP. Each shot unrelenting in its viciousness.
Finally...it ends. Lucy Willard has frantically raced down to the ring with overwhelming concern, bringing with her a white towel that gets tossed in at the referee's feet. The referee accepts the decision and calls for the bell. Lucy is in the ring and by her son's side before Nigel Gale even turns back around.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, Grimm!
-----
"That's why I won't let you get hurt again." He had missed what she said. No worries. Grimm was someone they had talked before. The incident was a freak accident, his face had healed, his therapy had finished. He was fine now. Really.
NOBODY envies a match with Grimm for any reason. But this wasn't Seromine he would be seeing. Nor was it a fragmented, childlike, momma's boy. He was back to his most infamous gimmick and that was something Grimm never experienced one-on-one.
The sad reality is that it wasn't happening in his glory years. All of his recent venom was being injected into Stormm. For that, evena man an entity like Grimm should be thankful. If this were an encounter taking place long before now, that shovel shot would be a love tap compared to the return fire.
"Are you listening to me babe?"
Destiny had to gently shake her husband by his shoulders. It was meant to be playful, but at the same time she wanted her concerns heard.
"Of course, my love. There's history between Stormm and Grimm, right? And I've been putting Stormm down without so much as a fine or suspension. So he cries to whoever will listen and gets me booked against Grimm, thinking he'll soften me up before our showdown."
Destiny smirks at the suggestion.
"Don't worry so much. I'm onto his game. Stormm will answer for it sometime during that night. As for Grimm, we can figure out a plan if that will make you feel better. Besides, I miss having you there."
-----
The final Trauma before Deadly Intentions was now in the rear view mirror. There was an upset in the tag team match. Gerard Angelo becoming the final entrant in the Deadly Rumble. Holden Ross saying hello to Rick Majors by way of ax handle.
And there was The Willards keeping their word. First, Destiny made a surprise appearance to deny Grimm an outright victory. Jason's mind wasn't fully on the match and it certainly affected his performance. But Grimm is as tough as they come. Easily the best competitor PCW has ever had. A legend. A boogeyman. An entity of nature.
Even he wasn't invincible to the stinging sensation of being misted in the eyes. The tactic was a staple from the very beginning. The color was almost always red, but there was an occasional purple during his UnHoly Alliance days. The Hangtown Death Grip was a diabolical finisher. It's far better to receive The Harvest than to feel the hand of death squeezing your jugular pressure points.
Then came Stormm.
For almost twenty years they have wanted to have a program between them. A small sample size of individual and tag matches wasn't anything but passing time. They had even aligned under the best forgotten banner of Nightmare 2 Society for a brief stint. Stormm was someone Willard thought of as a blue chip talent. An underrated individual with enormous talent. A champion in every company he was with.
A man with a death wish.
Willard made sure to remind Stormm of this with each passing attack. The Anarchist was dormant until Stormm decided to do everything he could do to bring the TRUE "force of nature" back out! This wasn't something being built over the course of two pay per views. Stormm took away Seromine's cult leading identity by ending Salvation. He saw to it that Willard wouldn't win the World Title again.
He made sure that the influence of the woman who gave birth to him was broken. His transgressions were built over the course of several years. Willard pushed back and pushed back for as long as he could until his true wrestling identity had finally been pieced back together. Stormm wanted The Anarchist to be revived and he got it!
But at a detrimental cost to his own health.
Stormm was a battered and bloody mess by the time Willard left the ringside area. There was no remorse. There was no second guessing. There was just chaos. An outburst of excessive violence. A reminder of all things Anarchist since the very beginning. Had it been the worst attack in their feud?
Stormm wasn't done.
Medical attention would have to wait. He had something else in mind. A fitting match for their feud. One that brought with it the highest of stakes. Willard stood there and never hesitated to agree to the requests.
Hell in A Cell.
Title versus Career.
He said all he had to say during the attack.
-----
After they get home, Willard starts to think about everything. He decides to look at his previously won championships and remembers how he felt at the time. He thinks about everyone he ever worked with. He thinks about his legacy and how proud he is of it. He also thinks about how it'll feel to defeat Stormm and end his near-record setting title reign.
He walks away from those and now puts his attention on photos of his family. His children through the years, from sonogram to their current age. Some goofier photos of not only them but of him and Destiny. Two crazy teenagers from Anaheim who fell in love at first sight in 1995. Nothing made him prouder than to be a husband and father.
"Coming to bed, babe?"
Destiny is off to his side with the sweetest of smiles and a hand held out. He was so swept up in his memories that there was a slight startle. He holds her hand and returns the smile.
"I love you."
Willard was frozen in place by Medusa. Thankfully for him the effect wasn't permanent. His efforts to have Melanie come over to him were almost fruitful, but then she had to have her attention pulled by something else.
This is when he looks up to the paragon of beauty and smiles. "Grimm? As in Phinehas? Uhh...well, you see..."
"You won't be alone for the match. Not this time."
"I wasn't alone the last few times, either. The referee was there and---"
"Babe." Here it comes. He picks himself back up and braces for a trip down memory lane.
-----
MASS DESTRUCTION IX - March 17, 2019
And Grimm is not pleased by the sight. Seromine lifts his head up. Sensing the inevitable, he fearfully eeks out "Mommy..." before the shovel is plunged diagonally between his eyes!! There is a mass collective chant of HOLY SHIT as the object is partially embedded. Blood spurts out of the wound. Grimm pulls it back as Seromine face plants on his hands. Grimm slams the shovel over and over and over to the head, neck, and back of Seromine, a play on his ABSOLUTION STOMP. Each shot unrelenting in its viciousness.
Finally...it ends. Lucy Willard has frantically raced down to the ring with overwhelming concern, bringing with her a white towel that gets tossed in at the referee's feet. The referee accepts the decision and calls for the bell. Lucy is in the ring and by her son's side before Nigel Gale even turns back around.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, Grimm!
-----
"That's why I won't let you get hurt again." He had missed what she said. No worries. Grimm was someone they had talked before. The incident was a freak accident, his face had healed, his therapy had finished. He was fine now. Really.
NOBODY envies a match with Grimm for any reason. But this wasn't Seromine he would be seeing. Nor was it a fragmented, childlike, momma's boy. He was back to his most infamous gimmick and that was something Grimm never experienced one-on-one.
The sad reality is that it wasn't happening in his glory years. All of his recent venom was being injected into Stormm. For that, even
"Are you listening to me babe?"
Destiny had to gently shake her husband by his shoulders. It was meant to be playful, but at the same time she wanted her concerns heard.
"Of course, my love. There's history between Stormm and Grimm, right? And I've been putting Stormm down without so much as a fine or suspension. So he cries to whoever will listen and gets me booked against Grimm, thinking he'll soften me up before our showdown."
Destiny smirks at the suggestion.
"Don't worry so much. I'm onto his game. Stormm will answer for it sometime during that night. As for Grimm, we can figure out a plan if that will make you feel better. Besides, I miss having you there."
-----
The final Trauma before Deadly Intentions was now in the rear view mirror. There was an upset in the tag team match. Gerard Angelo becoming the final entrant in the Deadly Rumble. Holden Ross saying hello to Rick Majors by way of ax handle.
And there was The Willards keeping their word. First, Destiny made a surprise appearance to deny Grimm an outright victory. Jason's mind wasn't fully on the match and it certainly affected his performance. But Grimm is as tough as they come. Easily the best competitor PCW has ever had. A legend. A boogeyman. An entity of nature.
Even he wasn't invincible to the stinging sensation of being misted in the eyes. The tactic was a staple from the very beginning. The color was almost always red, but there was an occasional purple during his UnHoly Alliance days. The Hangtown Death Grip was a diabolical finisher. It's far better to receive The Harvest than to feel the hand of death squeezing your jugular pressure points.
Then came Stormm.
For almost twenty years they have wanted to have a program between them. A small sample size of individual and tag matches wasn't anything but passing time. They had even aligned under the best forgotten banner of Nightmare 2 Society for a brief stint. Stormm was someone Willard thought of as a blue chip talent. An underrated individual with enormous talent. A champion in every company he was with.
A man with a death wish.
Willard made sure to remind Stormm of this with each passing attack. The Anarchist was dormant until Stormm decided to do everything he could do to bring the TRUE "force of nature" back out! This wasn't something being built over the course of two pay per views. Stormm took away Seromine's cult leading identity by ending Salvation. He saw to it that Willard wouldn't win the World Title again.
He made sure that the influence of the woman who gave birth to him was broken. His transgressions were built over the course of several years. Willard pushed back and pushed back for as long as he could until his true wrestling identity had finally been pieced back together. Stormm wanted The Anarchist to be revived and he got it!
But at a detrimental cost to his own health.
Stormm was a battered and bloody mess by the time Willard left the ringside area. There was no remorse. There was no second guessing. There was just chaos. An outburst of excessive violence. A reminder of all things Anarchist since the very beginning. Had it been the worst attack in their feud?
Stormm wasn't done.
Medical attention would have to wait. He had something else in mind. A fitting match for their feud. One that brought with it the highest of stakes. Willard stood there and never hesitated to agree to the requests.
Hell in A Cell.
Title versus Career.
He said all he had to say during the attack.
-----
After they get home, Willard starts to think about everything. He decides to look at his previously won championships and remembers how he felt at the time. He thinks about everyone he ever worked with. He thinks about his legacy and how proud he is of it. He also thinks about how it'll feel to defeat Stormm and end his near-record setting title reign.
He walks away from those and now puts his attention on photos of his family. His children through the years, from sonogram to their current age. Some goofier photos of not only them but of him and Destiny. Two crazy teenagers from Anaheim who fell in love at first sight in 1995. Nothing made him prouder than to be a husband and father.
"Coming to bed, babe?"
Destiny is off to his side with the sweetest of smiles and a hand held out. He was so swept up in his memories that there was a slight startle. He holds her hand and returns the smile.
"I love you."