Post by Mr. Showtime on Oct 16, 2015 19:23:35 GMT -5
Shake the hornets’ nest. It’s what the Black Hand has done since their infiltration of Pure Class Wrestling. Without chaos there can be no order. Before their arrival PCW was stricken by their darkest days. They gave everyone the rallying cry. One central team to hate above all else. A team that could draw the depraved from the shadows and into the light. A strategy that was beginning to pay off.
No one has preached the righteousness of the Black Hand more loudly they “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. Time and again he’s shouted that they are the heroes in this crazy mixed up world. Though never denying their mission was to destroy the present to make way for a better future.
Deadly Intentions was no different. Again it was put in his corner to right the wrongs of the wicked. Rhodes and Eira were the definition of villains. Two people that embodied evil, but trick the public in thinking they are better than they are. Kaard was always the adipoma of privileged, never earning his own. If everyone didn’t see that Showtime was the clear face of the four-some then there was something seriously wrong.
After the show had died down and the crowds went on their way it was clean up time around the arena. Most of the talent had gone home for the night and only those that needed to be there stayed around. Michael Wryght determined that he needed to be one of those people who hung around. The last thing he wanted was to see any Pure Class officials at his house in the morning. He knew that he’d drawn a significant amount of heat that night, so he kept a low profile.
Some may have said that he hid in Frank Foley’s office, but he called it waiting. The office was a mess, something Showtime could appreciate. He knew how tough it was to run the pay-per-view events, being the only wrestler to ever be a part of the executive team.
He sat in Foley’s own chair as the door creaked open. As Foley entered a look of displease crossed his face. First his eyes fell upon Showtime’s feet, which were resting up upon the desk, then to the North American and International title belts. The belts were clasped and propped up as if displayed in a trophy case. Foley was getting more perturbed as his gaze finally landed on Showtime’s face, which wore his patented cocky half smile. Foley could only grind his teeth at the smugness Showtime was oozing.
“You know Frankie, this used to be my office,” said Showtime, nonchalantly. “Can’t say I enjoy the changes. If you’d like I can have an interior decorator come in and take care of it for you.”
Showtime hated the fakeness of his words, but he still had a character to play. He wore his former bravado like any other movie role he’d taken on.
“You have some nerve.”
“Yeah I do, but not as much as you do,” replied Showtime, not showing a single chink in the armor.
“Excuse me?”
“I really don’t get you sometimes. What’s the point of having four former World Champions step into a ring and water it down with multiple winners? You had an opportunity of a lifetime out the Francis. I ended that match the way that it was supposed to end. One winner. One Undisputed North American and International Champion. One champion to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” asked Foley, not impressed.
“Very much so,” replied Showtime, as he shook his head in pleasure. “Doesn’t change the fact that everything I said was true.”
“You ruined a perfectly good match. A match that we’ve had in PCW before.”
“No, the last time these title were put up in the same match the stipulations were you could capture either title in a ladder match. That’s not the same as giving one away after physically pinning another wrestler. There’s a big difference there, my friend. Why was the North American title given away first? Shouldn’t that have been the International? First to win gets the higher title.”
“We don’t designate which title is higher around here. The champion makes the title, not the other way around.”
Showtime knew that’d be his response, cookie cutter as always, and his smile grew larger. “Well even better. I made sure that someone else didn’t do the other title a disservice. I was clearly the better man this night and either title would have suffered being the consolation prize. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you!” Foley roared, clearly losing his patience. “Thanks to you, now everyone thinks I’m in the pocket of the Black Hand.”
“Well aren’t you?” coyly replied Showtime.
Foley’s face begun to take a reddish hue, but he slowly regained his composure. He blatantly ignored the question and started to make his own demands, “You need to give one back.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I have a contract that says that first winner receives the International Championship. The rules in the ring that were explained to me were that the first winner receives the North American Championship. So the way I see it is that the first winner received the North American and International Championships. It’s pretty simple really.”
“Then we’ll get the Pure Class Legal team involved,” threated Foley. This was received with a roar of laughter. Foley didn’t appreciate that one bit, but he came off more confused than mad.
“No wonder you didn’t find success in the political sector. So you’re threatening me with a legal team that couldn’t draw up a simple match contract correctly when I have a world class legal team working for me? Mind you the same legal team that I lent to Whitey Ford to get him off a murder charge. You have to be joking. I might as well throw your job into the mix to compensate for my pain and suffering.”
“You couldn’t.”
“You don’t think I still have friends on the executive board of PCW? I could be acting president tomorrow if I wanted. Especially after you bungled something as simple as a match contract. I think I’ll just keep both and call it a day. Though I’ll need you to change it to the Undisputed North American and International Champion.”
“I’ve already decreed the match. At Trauma Eira, Rhodes and Kaard will face off in the main event. The winner will receive one of those two titles.”
“What? I don’t even get a chance to retain? Real nice Frankland, how is that fair?”
“Fair? You knowingly broke the rules of the match. Why should any of this be fair? I could just strip you of both titles and call it a day.”
“And what, give the Pure Class faithful two paper champions? It’s bad enough that you’re trying to give them one as it is. I’m telling you that your best course of action is to leave me with both titles, or at least let me defend one of them. You know, make it official.”
“Please Michael, let’s just make this easy on the two of us and give me one of the titles,” Frank asked, trying to catch his fly with honey rather than vinegar. The words tasted sour in his mouth, but it was worth a try.
“Nah, if I don’t have a chance to keep both of them then I’m going to let the legal team hash it out. Either way it’s easier for me, but I promise you that I won’t reveal which one it is until Trauma’s main event. I’ve always been a sucker for the suspense.”
Foley audible growled at Showtime’s response and with teeth clenched replied, “Fine then at Trauma you’ll face off against Nathan Saniti, how do you like that?”
“Is that supposed to be a threat? What is Saniti going to do? Pull a rabbit out of his ass?”
“No but the insult is that you’ll be the second match on the card.”
Showtime made an over exaggerated gasp and held his chest, “Heavens no, you monster.” Showtime stood up, still mocking, holding both hands under his left breast. He staggered towards the door as Foley shot daggers his way. Showtime bumped into the door frame, as if seriously wounded, and slammed the door behind him. Once was out of ear shot his playfulness vanished.
“Second match?” Foley’s punishment perfectly wounded the ego that Showtime so adamantly denied still existed. Maybe it wasn’t ego, but there was unwritten rules in the world of wrestling that Foley had purposefully ignored. Showtime had seen a rough sketch of the card with a few absent names. He now knew that he, a holder of two titles, would now be working a match before the Tag Team contendership matches, the Underground title match and a three way match full of participants that he’d just defeated. He didn’t even have the honor of opening the show to set the tone for the night.
“You cut deep Frankfurt,” he muttered under his breath. Though the one good thing that he would take away from this was that he had the chance to get his hands on Nathan Saniti. An evil man who’d spent months upon months tricking everyone that he was on the side of good. Nothing but parlor trick and hate he was. A man that Showtime would take great pride being the second member of The Black Hand in a row to beat the dark wizard down.
Nex Addo[/b]
No one has preached the righteousness of the Black Hand more loudly they “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. Time and again he’s shouted that they are the heroes in this crazy mixed up world. Though never denying their mission was to destroy the present to make way for a better future.
Deadly Intentions was no different. Again it was put in his corner to right the wrongs of the wicked. Rhodes and Eira were the definition of villains. Two people that embodied evil, but trick the public in thinking they are better than they are. Kaard was always the adipoma of privileged, never earning his own. If everyone didn’t see that Showtime was the clear face of the four-some then there was something seriously wrong.
After the show had died down and the crowds went on their way it was clean up time around the arena. Most of the talent had gone home for the night and only those that needed to be there stayed around. Michael Wryght determined that he needed to be one of those people who hung around. The last thing he wanted was to see any Pure Class officials at his house in the morning. He knew that he’d drawn a significant amount of heat that night, so he kept a low profile.
Some may have said that he hid in Frank Foley’s office, but he called it waiting. The office was a mess, something Showtime could appreciate. He knew how tough it was to run the pay-per-view events, being the only wrestler to ever be a part of the executive team.
He sat in Foley’s own chair as the door creaked open. As Foley entered a look of displease crossed his face. First his eyes fell upon Showtime’s feet, which were resting up upon the desk, then to the North American and International title belts. The belts were clasped and propped up as if displayed in a trophy case. Foley was getting more perturbed as his gaze finally landed on Showtime’s face, which wore his patented cocky half smile. Foley could only grind his teeth at the smugness Showtime was oozing.
“You know Frankie, this used to be my office,” said Showtime, nonchalantly. “Can’t say I enjoy the changes. If you’d like I can have an interior decorator come in and take care of it for you.”
Showtime hated the fakeness of his words, but he still had a character to play. He wore his former bravado like any other movie role he’d taken on.
“You have some nerve.”
“Yeah I do, but not as much as you do,” replied Showtime, not showing a single chink in the armor.
“Excuse me?”
“I really don’t get you sometimes. What’s the point of having four former World Champions step into a ring and water it down with multiple winners? You had an opportunity of a lifetime out the Francis. I ended that match the way that it was supposed to end. One winner. One Undisputed North American and International Champion. One champion to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” asked Foley, not impressed.
“Very much so,” replied Showtime, as he shook his head in pleasure. “Doesn’t change the fact that everything I said was true.”
“You ruined a perfectly good match. A match that we’ve had in PCW before.”
“No, the last time these title were put up in the same match the stipulations were you could capture either title in a ladder match. That’s not the same as giving one away after physically pinning another wrestler. There’s a big difference there, my friend. Why was the North American title given away first? Shouldn’t that have been the International? First to win gets the higher title.”
“We don’t designate which title is higher around here. The champion makes the title, not the other way around.”
Showtime knew that’d be his response, cookie cutter as always, and his smile grew larger. “Well even better. I made sure that someone else didn’t do the other title a disservice. I was clearly the better man this night and either title would have suffered being the consolation prize. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you!” Foley roared, clearly losing his patience. “Thanks to you, now everyone thinks I’m in the pocket of the Black Hand.”
“Well aren’t you?” coyly replied Showtime.
Foley’s face begun to take a reddish hue, but he slowly regained his composure. He blatantly ignored the question and started to make his own demands, “You need to give one back.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I have a contract that says that first winner receives the International Championship. The rules in the ring that were explained to me were that the first winner receives the North American Championship. So the way I see it is that the first winner received the North American and International Championships. It’s pretty simple really.”
“Then we’ll get the Pure Class Legal team involved,” threated Foley. This was received with a roar of laughter. Foley didn’t appreciate that one bit, but he came off more confused than mad.
“No wonder you didn’t find success in the political sector. So you’re threatening me with a legal team that couldn’t draw up a simple match contract correctly when I have a world class legal team working for me? Mind you the same legal team that I lent to Whitey Ford to get him off a murder charge. You have to be joking. I might as well throw your job into the mix to compensate for my pain and suffering.”
“You couldn’t.”
“You don’t think I still have friends on the executive board of PCW? I could be acting president tomorrow if I wanted. Especially after you bungled something as simple as a match contract. I think I’ll just keep both and call it a day. Though I’ll need you to change it to the Undisputed North American and International Champion.”
“I’ve already decreed the match. At Trauma Eira, Rhodes and Kaard will face off in the main event. The winner will receive one of those two titles.”
“What? I don’t even get a chance to retain? Real nice Frankland, how is that fair?”
“Fair? You knowingly broke the rules of the match. Why should any of this be fair? I could just strip you of both titles and call it a day.”
“And what, give the Pure Class faithful two paper champions? It’s bad enough that you’re trying to give them one as it is. I’m telling you that your best course of action is to leave me with both titles, or at least let me defend one of them. You know, make it official.”
“Please Michael, let’s just make this easy on the two of us and give me one of the titles,” Frank asked, trying to catch his fly with honey rather than vinegar. The words tasted sour in his mouth, but it was worth a try.
“Nah, if I don’t have a chance to keep both of them then I’m going to let the legal team hash it out. Either way it’s easier for me, but I promise you that I won’t reveal which one it is until Trauma’s main event. I’ve always been a sucker for the suspense.”
Foley audible growled at Showtime’s response and with teeth clenched replied, “Fine then at Trauma you’ll face off against Nathan Saniti, how do you like that?”
“Is that supposed to be a threat? What is Saniti going to do? Pull a rabbit out of his ass?”
“No but the insult is that you’ll be the second match on the card.”
Showtime made an over exaggerated gasp and held his chest, “Heavens no, you monster.” Showtime stood up, still mocking, holding both hands under his left breast. He staggered towards the door as Foley shot daggers his way. Showtime bumped into the door frame, as if seriously wounded, and slammed the door behind him. Once was out of ear shot his playfulness vanished.
“Second match?” Foley’s punishment perfectly wounded the ego that Showtime so adamantly denied still existed. Maybe it wasn’t ego, but there was unwritten rules in the world of wrestling that Foley had purposefully ignored. Showtime had seen a rough sketch of the card with a few absent names. He now knew that he, a holder of two titles, would now be working a match before the Tag Team contendership matches, the Underground title match and a three way match full of participants that he’d just defeated. He didn’t even have the honor of opening the show to set the tone for the night.
“You cut deep Frankfurt,” he muttered under his breath. Though the one good thing that he would take away from this was that he had the chance to get his hands on Nathan Saniti. An evil man who’d spent months upon months tricking everyone that he was on the side of good. Nothing but parlor trick and hate he was. A man that Showtime would take great pride being the second member of The Black Hand in a row to beat the dark wizard down.
Nex Addo[/b]
