The New BrotherhoodOriginally Posted by Harry Morgan
The arena goes dark, and the crowd knows what is going on as they immediately start to boo! Fuentes flashes over the CWAtron as Remember the Name by Fort Minor blasts in the arena. Lights flash in a circle in the center of the stage, and Rolando slowly starts to raise up from the stage. Rolando is smiling his cocky smile as usual. He is wearing his custom made suit, his hair is nice and done, and he walks down the aisle. Rolando doesn’t acknowledge any of the fans, and he just goes to the ring, grabs a microphone, and starts to talk.
The crowd begins to boo loudly as Rolando tries to speak. They will not allow him to speak, so Rolando leaves the ring and goes straight to the commentators booth. Clint Shepard and Tim Coleman look confused, Rolando puts on the headset, and begins to talk.
Rolando Fuentes: Why do you guys look so confused? These people here do not deserve to hear what I have to say if they are not going to shutup, and respect who and what I am!
Rolando Fuentes: Please don’t flatter yourself Shepard! You don’t hang out with me, you are not a friend of mine, when you address me, you will address me as Mr. Fuentes! So go ahead, rewind your speech, and address me the right way.
Clint Shepard: Errr ok Mr. Fuentes, these are the CWA fans, they are able to do and say what they want! You do not dictate what they can and can’t do!
Rolando Fuentes: Buckworth, let me tell you something I am a professional wrestler, not only am I a professional wrestler, but I am one of the best wrestlers in the world, and I am by far the best wrestler in this company! As a wrestler, and a very good wrestler, I can manipulate these fans any way I feel the need to! If I want these idiots to cheer me, I could get them to. Don’t even get me started.
With the ring empty, and nothing going on the crowd begins to chant bullshlt. You can hear Rolando laugh at the commentators table.
Rolando Fuentes: See, if you could do what I do, then he would not be here commentating my next great match, and you Tim, you Coleman you just continue to call my matches, and you continue to say how great I am! Now that we have all that crap out of the way. DAMN CONTINUE TO LISTEN TO THESE FOOLS!! The crowd is still chanting bullshlt. I am here for one reason, and one reason only, and that is to continue to let everyone know that I am the man here in the CWA. Mr. Willis this former legend, this man who just like Roberto left the CWA, and decided to make a comeback during one of my matches to make a name for himself.
Clint Shepard: If you are so good why did you lose the World Title, not really being able to defend the title once.
Rolando Fuentes: Old man you should realize that I work for the A company, not the B company, and I held the World Title for the A company, not the secondary title of the B title. I am main event brother, you will always be my semi-main event.
Clint Shepard: If it wasn’t for the contract I signed saying I could not lay hands on any of the wrestlers I would take you out right now!
Rolando Fuentes: Oh well you signed a contract, so just sit there, and realize you can’t do anything to me. Now back to Mr. Willis. Willis you come back to the CWA, because you couldn’t make it in the B company. You come back during my match, let me reiterate, my main event match, at the biggest Pay Per View of the year, and next thing I know I am no longer the World Champion! I am getting tired of this crap! I am tired of these so called legends trying to make their names off of me. I have said it time and time again, for some reason these legends do not respect me. I could list my accomplishments, and it would take up the whole time on this Pay Per View. Yet these so called Legends call me out! Mr. Willis your accomplishments have been grand, your accomplishments in the past have been some of the greatest feats I have ever known, but you need to realize that this is the new era! I am the new era, I am the one who has taken the CWA into the 21st century, but for some reason I am always put on the back burner. When I was fighting in MMA, my trainer told me that I had to make my own luck, I had to make my own opportunities! So this is what is going on here. I am going to make my own opportunities. Willis, you are the toughest challenge I have in front of me. You have been the World Champion, and you beat one of the most dominant World Champions of all-time. You took a savage in NovaKain, and in the end you were declared the victor. You have to realize Mr. Willis that I am the new age. This company was put on my back, when you took your ball and went home. I went out, and headlined five Pay Per Views in a row! I headlined Five Star Attraction, the biggest Pay Per View of all-time, and I was in the Tope Rope Observer Match of the Year. Mr. Willis you have my respect, but you have forgotten how great I am! It has seven letters, and when your feet are touching the heavens, your brain will know what is going on, and your body will freeze, because you know that I will drop you with my Ice Pick! You have forgotten who I am, and I will be the cure for your amnesia!
Rolando gets up from the announce desk, and puts the headphones down. The crowd begins to boo as soon as he gets up, and Rolando just goes into the ring, goes to the middle of the ring, raises both of his arms, he laughs, and leaves the ring with Remember the Name blasting over the arena! The crowd is booing loudly!
Clint Shepard: If I was not retired I would have beat that young brat all over this arena!
Tim Coleman: No need to get worked up champ, but you should show him some respect next time
Originally Posted by BenWah“HIT IT HARRRRRRD!!!!”
*Cameras are off location at what appears to be a generally run-down old gym. The dulcet tones of a crotchety old man ring out as several men of varying ages are working out all around him. Of particular note is who appears to be his prized student and current trainee The Guardian Devil*
“HIT IT HARD A TOUSAN TIMES UNTIL YOU CAN’T HIT IT NO MOR!”
GD: “Ok Rick, you got it!”
“AND WHAT’S WIT ALL DIS BACKTALK?! YOU GOT DOOKIE IN YOUR BRAIN?”
GD: “I’m not even sure what that means….”
Rick: “SHADDUP AND HIT DA BAG!”
*GD turns his attention to the heavy bag he was working and continues to lay shots into it. Out of view, GD’s partner Kyle Crosby calls out to him.*
Crosby: “Hey GD, what in sweet sweet Christmas is'a goin on here?!”
GD: “Ohay Kyle, just doin a little workout you know? Gotta get ready for our 18th match with the Gang Bangs and such, tryin’ a new method here.”
Crosby: “Truthfully, would they be able to go 18 matches with prime talent like ourselves? I know they came on top at the last Adrenaline Rush...”
GD: “…via shady methods!”
Crosby: “Precisely! Via shady methods, so apparently that’s deserving of another World Tag Team championship match with us? Come on now, I reinvented the method of winning via shady methods. They're really gonna ave to bring their primitive minds back from the stone age if they want to best, well.....the best!”
GD: “Well yeah, see, the way I figgers it, I oughta get some hard workouts in so we can really knock their blocks off, end this bamboozle.”
Crosby: “Knock their block off? What are you, Wally Beaver?”
GD: “Is that a porno?”
Crosby: “What the?! No, it’s a wholesome family show from the 60’s. If you're talking porno, i would have said something like polish off their-”
GD: “NEVERMIND! Anyhow, I deducified that if we are to move on to the greeniest of pastures, we need to finish these guys off once and for all. THUSLY, if I get in the best shape in the history of evers, we might be able to accomplish that mighty feat.”
Crosby: “Well, I can’t blame a guy for working hard I guess. But why this place? Quite frankly it stinks.”
Mick: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT STINKS!!?! WHO IS THIS UGLY BUM, ROCK?!?”
Crosby: “What's a Rock have to do with anything?”
GD: “I have no idea, he’s been calling me Rock for a few weeks now and I just haven’t bothered to correct him. I read he was the best and has helped other underdog fighters BECOME the best, so that’s why I’m here, weird name be damned. But yeah, the place is a bit fresh but I figger what better way to get my blood, sweat, tears, excrement, beer, saliva, and eye boogers on than an old timey gym built in the 1900’s?”
Crosby: “I guess…..something just seems so…….I dunno…..familiar about this setup?”
GD: “How so?”
Crosby: “I’m not sure, just getting this weird vibe I’ve seen this place somewhere before. Maybe in a past mind…..er life or something. What’s this place called anyhow?”
GD: “It’s Rick’s Gym. Honestly my old buddy Ken Leblanc told me about it and I just kinda reached in the ol’ bag o’ tricks to get an edge on the Bang Stars.”
Crosby: “And you figured taking advice from a guy who’s abandoned you half a dozen times might be a good idea going into this huge championship match?”
GD: “…..couldn’t hurt?”
Crosby: “Couldn’t it?”
Crosby: “Couldn’t it?”
*GD puts his head down*
GD: “Yes. But look bro, look at these pipes baybay!”
*GD goes into pose down mode, flashing several different stances over and over to accentuate the work he’s put into his workouts over the past month.*
Crosby: “Huh…you do look relatively impressive for a guy who used to just play video games and eat nachos all the time.”
GD: “Yeah, but now I do all that stuff AND work out with Rick over here.”
Rick: “Speaking of, CAN WE GET SOME BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS GOIN OVER HERE? WOULD THAT BE OK? WOULD THAT BE TOO MUCH TROUBLE TO ASK?! NOW HIT DAT BAG, HIT IT HARD, GO ‘HEAD, HIT IT TILL YOUR ARMS FALL OFF, 10 TOUSAND TIMES!”
Crosby: “Just so I have this straight, you got this physique, working out with this old geezer for a month, and you’ve been doing nothing but boxing training?”
GD: “Yeah dudefish, pimpcakes eh?”
Crosby: “Any chance your time would’ve been better spent training in an actual wrestling ring, with actual wrestling training, with an actual wrestling trainer?”
*GD has a huge grin on his face and goes back to pounding the heavy bag he’s been working on for seemingly hours*
Crosby: “All right then, while you're training with old slick Rick here, I happen to know a certain ex wrestler who just happened to have some free time on his hands. This was a guy who really helped me find my calling. I'll be working off any ring rust with him.
GD: Oh yeah, whose that?
Crosby; Oh, just the Icon Clint Shepard.
GD: *grunting* “9,999…..10,000! Whew! That’s a workout my man! That's cool dude bro, I had heard you two had patched things up. I'm sure he could show me a thing or two as well, once I'm done with nachos of course.”
Rick: “OK YOU BUM, TIME TO PASS THE MEDICINE BALL AROUND, THEN YOU CHOP A TREE DOWN AND GO FOR A RUN IN THE SNOW.”
GD: “Ok Rick, you got it!”
Crosby: "We do have some other stuff to workout before we head off to our big match tonight."
*GD begins hurling a medicine ball with one of the other trainers while Rick looks on eagerly.*
GD: Speak my boy!
Crosby: “Ok then. So, we’ve only had a few matches as partners and I think we need to cover a few of the basics that haven’t come up yet.”
GD: “Sounds good to me bro, PASS IT MAN, NO PAIN NO GAIN. What did you have in mind?”
Rick: “YOU TWO NANCIES NEED A ROOM!?!? PASS DAT BALL AROUNDDDDDDDD!”
Crosby: “Well I…yeah. First off and most importantly, we don’t really have a team name yet.”
GD: “Valid point *Grunting as he quickly passes the heavy ball*, New Brotherhood sound good to you?”
Crosby: “Really? Why don’t we just call ourselves Devil and Crosby?”
GD: “You think that’d get us more lady fans?”
Crosby: “Ugh……fine, New Brotherhood it is.”
Crosby: “Yeah, ok second item on the agenda. We need an entrance theme.”
GD: “What’s wrong with Holy Diver?”
Crosby: “Well, A) It’s too slow B) It doesn’t fit either of our gimmicks C) I don’t like it.”
GD: “Bbbbut, it’s iconic! Sigh, fine, I guess to truly be a team, you gotta give a little, take a little, let your poor heart break a little.”
Crosby: “Did you just Glory of Love me?”
GD: “No good?”
Crosby: “Oh it’s fine, I love that song, but it’s not a good entrance theme.”
GD: “Party pooper. Okay how about I let you pick?”
Crosby: “NOW we’re talking.”
GD: “So long as it’s by Dio.”
Crosby: “OH COME ON!”
GD: “El Dio baybee!!!!!!”
Crosby: “Whatever, the only song I like by him is Rainbow in the Dark. At least it has a badass intro.”
GD: “Done! RITD it is!”
*Rick interjects again*
Rick: “I’LL RAINBOW YOUR DARK IF YOU DON’T GET OUT DERE AND CHOP UP DAT CHERRY TREE FOR FIRE WOOD SO WE DON’T FREEZE TO DEATH IN HERE!!!! OUTSIDE NOW!”
GD: “Yes sir! You wanna get in on this action broseph?”
Crosby: “I’ll pass thanks. I’m not the rugged, outdoorsy type. And what did he mean by firewood?”
GD: “Dunno, I don’t really question him at this point. The pipes don’t lie man!”
*Rick and GD head outside. Kyle Crosby, looking more perplexed than normal by GD’s unusual choices, heads outside to try and continue their conversation. GD removes his shirt in a very uncharacteristically erotic way before picking up the axe to begin cutting down the tree*
Crosby: “I’m not gonna ask. Another thing we haven’t really talked about, is a tag team finishing move. You know? We need something that really sets us apart from from everybody else.”
*GD has knocked the tree down and is furiously chopping logs out of what’s there. Muscles, glistening with sweat in the sun as he takes chop after chop…too erotic for cable.*
GD: “Well, I’m open for suggestions. I’ll let you have this one.”
Crosby: “So I’m thinking, you already do the Steeple’s elbow right? What if we BOTH do a top rope elbow drop onto the downed opponent? Double the crushing blows!”
GD: “Yeah, that seems kinda obvious though. Mine is brutal cuz I jump most of the way across the ring. Might not be as potent if they are closer to my side. What else you got?”
Crosby: “Ok ok, hows about a powerbomb/neckbreaker combo? Since you do a powerbomb, I figured it wasn’t much of a stretch.”
GD: "Ya know, I think that's gonna be the bottle rocket to blow up the picnic!"
Crosby: "I'm just gonna assume that's you saying yes. I definitely think that could assure us the victory we already had coming."
GD: "Hot sauce! And we can utilize some other tandem moves as well."
Rick; WHAT IS THIS CRAP?! THERE IS NO UTILIZATION, THERE IS ONLY EXECUTION AND DOMINATION!
*Both men have begun to ignore Rick some what*
Crosby: Really, like what? Although I think I like where this is going.
GD: I was thinking that with my brute force and Superman like strength, backed up by your Robin-esque agility and technical know how, we could take these boys to school on Krypton and the Bat Cave!
*Crosby is intrigued, but he seems a little annoyed*
Crosby: "So you get to be Superman."
GD: "Of course, the ladies all call me the man of steel!"
Crosby: "But instead of being Batman, I get to be Robin?"
Rick: YOU TWO LOONEY TOONS NEED TO GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF THE CLOUDS AND ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT STUFF THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS, LIKE WINNING!
GD: "I thought it was befitting, since he was very acrobatic and technical."
Crosby: "I guess you're right. Anyways, how about a sweet high low type of combination?"
GD: "Righteous! I could hit a clothesline from hell up top while you sweep the leg in unison!"
Crosby: "Yeah, or you could Irish whip them into the corner, then you whip me but i reverse it and you hit a corner clothesline. Then I set them up on the turnbuckle for chest kicks and a frankensteiner, but you're ready below with your knees up for a frankensteiner backbreaker combination!"
*GD gets a fearfully amused expression on his face*
Crosby: "What's wrong?"
GD: "I'm just so glad you're on my team bro. You may have had a recent change of heart, but you're still just as crazy as ever."
Crosby: "I'm prepared to take on the two of them by myself if I have to! Nothing is going to stop us from retaining our titles and showing everyone in CWA universe that this isn't a fluke! But It's always good to be prepared with an even bigger arsenal."
Rick: YOU THINK HE'S CRAZY? YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE WORST THAT I HAVE TO OFFER! NOW GET YOUR BUTTS OUT IN THE SNOW FOR A TWENTY MILE RUN!
*Both men trudge outside of the gym and into the Texas desert like terrain and begin their run, all the while Rick struggles to keep up with them while coughing, hacking, yelling, and cursing up into a storm like frenzy. All the while, a familiar song begins to play somewhere off in the distance.*
*Both men are pushing each other beyond their limits as they keep running on and on.*
Crosby: "Do you think Cool and the Gang have been training this hard?"
GD: "Not hardly. Old Rick back there might look like a miserable and mean old tired sack of monkeys covered in molasses, but he's the best there is at what he does."
Crosby: "Maybe so, but that means we'll have to be prepared for anything. The thing that makes them so dangerous aside from their lack of experience, is that they are probably willing to do anything to win."
*As both men make their way into Houston, a fairly large crowd of fans begins to follow along and cheer on both men as they run.*
GD: "And You and I will be willing to do anything to stop them. This is more than just the beginning of one of the greatest tag teams of all time. It is more than both their little careers combined. We aren't just representing ourselves here, we're representing the CWA and tag team wrestling as a whole, to the entire world."
Crosby: "Wow GD, that's kind of poetic."
GD: "I'm also doing it for my baby back home in Philly."
*Crosby is finally starting to put things together. The gym, the training, GD wearing a headband and grey sweatsuit, the random music as well as nonexistent snow.*
Crosby: "You aren't from Pennsylvania GD, and I'm pretty sure you're single. This is like something from a movie I've seen before."
*A big grin creeps across GD's face as they stop at the top stairs of city hall amidst all their cheering fans.*
GD: "I was wondering if you were ever gonna pick up on anything."
Crosby: " Ain't it a movie that came out in the 80's?"
Crosby: "I thought it had some big time action star in it too."
GD: "You're getting warm."
Crosby: " Wasn't Arnold Schwarzenegger in the movie?"
GD: "Oh for Pete's sake, It was Sylvester Stallone in Rocky! You young Canadians think you know everything."
Crosby: "Well one thing I know for sure is that we got this match beat!"
GD: "Preach the truth my brother!"
*The crowd cheers as both men slam their arms together in a powerful armlock like handshake. Although both men suddenly look worried*
Crosby: "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
GD: "Yeah, we forgot about Rick!"
Crosby: "Who knows where that crazy old coot is at now!"
*Both men run for a nearby cab as the music fades and the screen goes to black, all while their fans cheer and chase them.*
The Gang Stars - Krash
The Gang Stars - Alyster BlackOriginally Posted by Punk WolfCWA Tag title match – Gang Stars vs Devil & Crosby
Three years ago.A young and timid man named Krash stepped out of thelocker room, running a hand through his multi-colored hair as he looked around nervously. Backstage officials here and there could be seen preparing for tonight’s show, which would be the debut of a slew of new wrestlers, Krash one of them. It would be the first time he would be seen on a nationally-televised wrestling company. To say the kid was nervous would be a mild understatement. It didn’t help that he was the youngest here. Everyone was in their mid-twenties, while Krash had just passed 19.
Krash stepped outside for some fresh air, and sat down on the concrete steps. He breathed out, running a hand through his hair, when a voice next to him spoke.
“The hell you shivering for?”
Krash jumped and whirled around, seeing a man in a mask watching him oddly, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingertips.
“Ah, you’re one of the new acquisitions too, eh?” The mask man asked, and Krash blinked.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin. First time on national TV, hmm?”
Krash nodded, and opened his mouth to speak when the door to the arena shot open and slammed into his face.
“Hey, watch it, ya fricken’ newb!” A voice shouted out at Krash, who merely groaned. “And what you lookin at, Masky? You think you’re better than me?”
“I don’t think, I know I’m better than you.” The masked man coolly replied. “Now unless you want to lose the ability to reproduce, I suggest you f*ck off.”
“Oh, big words! C’mon, I bet you couldn’t be able to hit the broad side of a barn!”
From his vantage point on the floor against the railing, Krash watched as the masked man took another drag of his cigarette, before flicking it away and turning to face the man who clearly had issues. In one swift movement, the masked man slapped the other guy in the face, before crouching low and punching him in the groin with a vicious haymaker. The man moaned, instantly going limp, and the masked man gave him a light push. The troublemaker toppled over into the dirt, one hand on his bruised baggage.
The masked man turned back to Krash and offered a hand. Krash warily accepted it, and the masked man helped him to his feet. “Your nose is bleeding.” He noted.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it kinda is.” Krash agreed, somehow feeling… safer?
“Name’s Alyster Black.” The masked man said. “You?”
“Krash, huh? I got the feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other, Krash. I’ll see you later.”
-=-=-=-Krash sat on the caramel-brown couch lazily, playing with a yoyo half-heartedly as time ticked by. Growing restless, he tossed the yoyo over his shoulder, either not noticing or plainly ignoring the sound of its mashing against something fragile. He breathed out, rubbing his hands over his face, and sighed. Wearing a pair of blue jeans along with a white T-shirt underneath a dark red waistcoat, Krash drummed his fingers against the side of the couch and noted how time seemed to be passing extra slow today. Flicking on his laptop, Krash scrolled to YouTube for the latest My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic episode. Maybe it’d help pass the time.
February 18th, 2012.
But even his favorite show couldn’t keep his attention right now. With a defeated sigh, Krash closed the laptop as the opening credits ran, placing it on the coffee table and laying back down on the couch. This had been happening all day. He couldn’t keep his attention focused on things, his mind kept drifting away to ponder things Krash really didn’t want to ponder.
The sound of the front door slamming shut caught his attention, and he looked up slightly as Alyster Black entered the room, threw a bag on the floor (where an audible ‘CRACK’ was heard) before stomping past the couch into the kitchen.
“Alyster? You okay?” Krash called after him.
Alyster didn’t respond, or at least not verbally. The sound of Alyster opening the fridge and grabbing a can could be heard, before Alyster slammed the fridge door much like he did the front door. Concerned, Krash rolled off the couch and fell to his feet, cautiously approaching thekitchen. “Alyster?” Krash softly called again, as he stepped through the doorway.
If Alyster heard his partner he showed no sign of it. Alyster Black, de facto leader of the Gang Stars, sat at the kitchen table with a freshly-opened can of alcohol in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, his back to Krash. This in itself was not that unusual. What was unusual was that Alyster’s trademark mask had been taken off and placed in the middle of the table. Seemingly oblivious to Krash’s presence, Alyster took a long drag of the cigarette, exhaling in relief before downing a small mouthful of liquor.
“Alyster?” Krash mumbled, staring at the back of Alyster’s head. It has been a long time since he had seen Alyster without a mask on, and now that it was off… It seemed unnatural. “Alyster?
“I can’t take it anymore.”
Krash blinked. “S… Sorry?”
“I can’t take this sh*t anymore.” Alyster said forcefully, putting the can on the table and reaching for his mask. He pulled it on, before turning around. And gave Krash a look that did so much more than unsettle him.
The mask did nothing to deter the effect.
“I’m sick of this.” Alyster said, flicking the cigarette onto the floor. “Krash, do you remember what I said to you a few nights ago?”
Krash froze, any and all traces of smiles slowly disappearing from his expression. He shuffled his feet and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, mentally going back to the conversation mere nights ago.“Yeah.” He muttered. “I remember.”
“Well, have you thought about what I said since then?”
Krash fidgeted. “A-A little bit, yes…” Well, alright, a little more than a little bit…
“And, well, I, um…” Krash muttered, before dropping into silence.
“Well?” Alyster prodded. “Speak up.”
“I think you’re being a bito verly critical.” Krash finally let out, before falling silent again.
Alyster paused, considering Krash’s words, before shaking his head in disappointment. “You haven’t learned a thing. You… you’re still so… so godamned delusional!” Alyster spat. “Why can’t you see what’s written so plainly in front of you?!? Those pathetic wastes of people don’t care about you! They don’t care about us! They clap their hands and wet themselves whenever they see the grossly-overrated Brotherhood, and why? Because, they’re, quote, ‘Home-grown heroes.’ They turned their back on us the second Leblanc appeared and again when Crosby filled in for him, purely for nostalgic purposes! We’ve done everything they asked us, jumped through every hoop and over every hurdle, and this is how the fans treat us? Stabbing us in the back, abandoning us?”
“That’s not true-” Krash interrupted, but Alyster quickly shut him down.
“That IS true and you know it! Meanwhile Brotherhood has done nothing but ride on their reputation, and kiss enough ass to allow everything to go their way! You’ve seen the messageb oards, heard the chants at the shows… You’re in denial, Krash! You still think you’re loved by these people who clearly don’t! And for that…” Alyster paused, shaking his head. “For that, I pity you. I pity you because you’re too short-sighted to see that pandering to these ungrateful idiots has gotten you absolutely nowhere. You go out there, each and every week, put your body on the line and risk your life… And what do you have to show for it? Nothing. Nothing at all. All these people, the fans and the bookers and everyone, all they do is spit in your face and kick you away. And… you somehow think that if you smile enough everything will be alright? Newsflash, this isn’t a f*cking fairytale! The good guys don’t always win! Krash, this is going to sound really, really bad, but… Sometimes, you need to be cruel.”
Krash looked at Alyster with an expression of hurt on his face. Deep down, he knew what his friend was saying was right… But still…
Alyster sighed. “Look, I understand that you’re more sensitive and whatnot. But these people, the fans, other wrestlers, even the bookers, have been neglecting us nonstop. Krash, I’m going to tell you something a very wise man once told me. If you kick a dog often enough, soon they’ll be doing one of two things: Cowering at your feet, or attacking you with a vengeance if you so much as go near them. Guess which type I am. Here’s a hint: I’m not going to be groveling at anyone’s feet anytime soon. And you shouldn’t either. You need to think for yourself and stop letting yourself be pushed around by these jackoffs.”
Krash stood silent, quietly staring at the floor as Alyster’s words revolved in his head.
“Think about what I said. Really think about it.” Alyster softly said, patting Krash on the shoulder before walking out of the kitchen.
Krash heard Alyster go through the front door, get in his car, and drive away. Alone with his thoughts, Krash gingerly sat down on one of the chairs and put his head in his hands.
-=-=-=-Clutching at his newly won world title, Krash limped backstage in the Takedown arena, still feeling the after-effects of taking a fireball to his face and having his wrist basically crushed by a returning Ryan Evans, Derek Levy, and Matt Ashburn. He didn’t even get the chance to celebrate what could be the pinnacle of his career before he was attacked.
Late-2010, a few days after Takedown’s Manifest Destiny PPV.
Up ahead in the corridor, the sound of a shouting match caught his attention. Normally Krash would’ve avoided such a thing, but one of the voices sounded oddly familiar.
“No, I DON’T give a damn whohe is! He left the company, what, six months ago, and when he comes back and attacks me and Krash instantly after our match, I’m just supposed to sit back and smile politely while he buries me?!?”
“Look, Mr. Black, I understand you’re unhappy, but-”
“You don’t understand sh*t!”
“We figured that such a loyal figurehead of the company would have a better returning impact if-”
“’Loyal figurehead’? He abandoned you six months ago, turned his back on you, and you respond byl iterally giving him the number one contender spot to the word title when he hasn’t done a damn thing to earn it?!?”
Krash paused in the hallway outside the room where the shouting match was taking place, frowning. That was Alyster, alright.
“Mr. Black, I’m sure-”
“If there’s one thing I can’ts tand, it’s petty backstage politics like this! F*ck you and this company, if you’re going to push me aside for some no-talent moron with his lips firmly planted on your ass, then I quit!”
The doors to the room flung open, and former Takedown world champion Alyster Black stomped out in an angry rush. He paused in front of Krash, who was now bearing an expression of shock on his face.
“Alyster, you don’t mean that, do you?” Krash asked.
“I mean every word. I’m quitting this place before all this backstage politics makes it disappear up itso wn ass.”
“I’d jump ship too if I were you. You know they’re just going to feed you to Evans thanks to his ‘loyal figureheadedness’ to the company.”
“Alyster, this is the first fed that accepted me. I grew up here. I’m not going to quit just because I don’t like what’s happening.”
“Then you’re stupider than you look. Bye for now, maybe forever, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when this place goes belly-up.”
With that note, Alyster Black walked away.
It would be a very long time before Krash saw him again.
Takedown closed about four months later.
-=-=-=-Alone in the Gang Star HQ, Krash thought about Alyster’swords. He wanted to believe that Alyster was wrong, so very wrong. Oh, how he wished Alyster was wrong.
But beneath himself he knew his friend was right.
Though try as he might to block out the negativity, it didn’t completely escape Krash that the fans weren’t cheering him as much as they used to.
What had he done wrong? He didn’t go out of his way to make enemies. He didn’t try to bury his opponents. He was polite and civil outside the ring. And yet, the fans chose to cheer on Brotherhood, who did the exact opposite. Brotherhood cheated to win, using every loophole in the book, and were cheered relentlessly. Anything wrong Brotherhood did, the fans still cheered for them and tried to justify their actions. The Gang Stars, meanwhile, did the best they could, not only to win, but to give the fans their money’s worth, and were spat in the face in response.
Shaking his head, Krash got to his feet and walked into the empty living room. “Alyster, I…” He began, before cutting himself off. Alyster was gone. Krash was alone in the Gang Star HQ for now. Sighing, Krash took a step forward-
And tripped over the lump of a bag on the middle of the living room floor.
Wincing, Krash rubbed a hand against his head and looked at his feet.
The bag Alyster had dropped when he first came in stared back at him.
Krash sat up, pulling the bag onto his lap. “Alyster, you forgot your ba… right, forgot.” He laughed nervously, the laugh of someone who was very close to the edge, mentally speaking.
He moved to put the bag on the coffee table, when curiosity struck. Krash glanced at the bag, remembering the odd ‘crack’ sound it made when it smacked against the floor, and shrugged. “Oh, what the hell.” He zipped it open and peered inside.
His nervous smile disappeared as he pulled out a broken picture frame and a photo, waving off broken shards of glass. He set the frame on the coffee table as he gazed at the photo, one taken a long time ago if the date in the corner was anything to go by.
It was a photo of Krash and Alyster Black at a local bar, not posing… just being normal. Just being themselves. Being friends with no worries. Alyster had a large smile on his face as he nursed a glass of liquor, a smile devoid of anger or force, while Krash was playing with the miniature umbrella that came with his drink. The two were laughing, smiling, having a good time like two friends rarely do.
Seeing the photo embedded with broken bits of glass and nearly torn up… it made something snap inside of Krash’s already fragile mind.
All the emotions he had blocked out – hatred, anger, jealousy – all burst forth at once as his mind clicked and the gears turned. Suddenly, everything made so much more sense. Krash was wrong… everyone had well and truly turned their back on the Gang Stars. The fans, the bookers, even Steve Storme… everyone. Krash and Alyster hadn’t been able to enjoy themselves because no-one would let them. They had kept prodding, cheering on the bad guys and spitting in the face of the Gang Stars, that it was an actual relief to embrace the hatred instead of bottling it up inside himself.
The Gang Stars had been abused.
Stabbed in the back.
The fans had been so fixated on coming up with excuses to make them the bad guys that after a while, it had created exactly what theywere looking for.
Krash looked up from the photo, and gone was the cheerful expression that was usually found on his face.
Gone was the sense of childish glee that what made him so popular.
Gone was the innocent twinkle in his eyes.
Instead, the cheerful expression was replaced with a glare of bitterness.
The sense of childish glee was replaced with an aura of danger.
The innocent twinkle was replaced with a dull shine.
Krash spoke in the empty Gang Star HQ, and if anyone had heard him they would’ve been quite unnerved by the path Krash had chosen to go down.
“Alright. You pricks want a bad guy? Fine. I’ll be your f*cking bad guy.”
-=-=-=-Krash frowned as he read the words printed on the contract in front of him, scanning the text quickly and efficiently before looking up at Alyster. His friend’s face was unreadable, no big surprise with the mask, but even without it Alyster’s expression would’ve be difficult to decipher. Krash put the document on the coffee table, and stroked the side of his face thoughtfully.
Slightly less than one year ago…
“Okay. Explain this to me one more time.” Krash asked, running a hand through his multi-colored hair. Alyster made a small sound of minor annoyance as he sat down across Krash, leaning forward slightly.
“It’s simple.” He explained. “This wrestling promotion is on the lookout for some new talent. I’ve been drifting between companies for a while now, and this one looks stable and won’t close after a month or two. I could go in by myself and reign havoc and chaos and all that, but I was thinking… Theirt ag division seems pretty thin at the moment…”
A small smile made its way across Krash’s face as the implications sunk in. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Then why me? Why not Steve?” Krash asked, and Alyster paused.
“We… don’t get along very well anymore. Don’t worry about him. What matters is us, you and me, the only pairing of the Gang Stars who haven’t won gold together. And besides, I’dr ather go in with a friend watching my back that anyone else. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
Krash took a moment to think, before a large grin spread across his face. “Fun, you say? Alright, Alyster, you got a deal.”
Originally Posted by RawrThe scene openes in Gang Star HQ where the two Gang Stars are lounging around the living room. Krash is watching TV on the couch while Alyster sits on the lounge chair to Krash’s right, writing up a new blog on his laptop. Alyster pauses for a minute and starts clicking around the browser on his laptop, he starts reading the official CWA message boards. After a few minutes of reading Black closes his laptop and puts it down on the coffee table to his right. He leans back in his seat and presses his hands to his face, moaning rather loudly. Krash looks over at him.
Krash: Something wrong dude?
Krash: Use your words buddy.
Alyster drops his arms onto the armrests but still leans his head back over the top of the chair.
Black: It’s these goddamn message boards man. I swear no one out there is showing us any love or support.
Krash: Are you serious bro?
Black: Everyone wants to see the Brotherhood defend the tag titles...they don’t want to see us get them back.
Krash: Huh, well...guess we gotta win them back at Uprising.
Black: I don’t think it’s going to be that simple. These guys, for the most part, are showing a cult-like sense of loyalty to the Brotherhood.
Krash and Alyster sit in silence for a minute, lamenting on their dwindling fanbase. Alyster gets up off the chair and walks over to the kitchen, he opens the fridge and takes out a six pack of beer. He returns to the living room where Krash has taken his laptop to read the discussion on the message boards. Alyster sits back down in his chair and pulls a can of beer off the plastic holding it. He offers it to his partner but is turned down. Alyster puts the other five beers down on the coffee table and rolls his mask up above his mouth so he can drink his beer. He occasionally glances over to Krash who’s facial expressions show how hurt he is by the total distain that the CWA faithful have for the Gang Stars.
Krash: This guy wants me to trip off the top rope and die.
Black: At least they didn’t accuse you of wearing a mask because you’re ugly.
Krash: This other guy said that if I was his son he’d have me put down for being so “tweaked” all the time.
Black: Someone on there said that they want me to get lung cancer.
Krash: Do they really hate us that much?
Krash: But it’s just a small minority of them, I mean how many people post on the CWA message boards? And these are just die-hard CWA fans. Of corse they’re going to support the Brotherhood over us.
Alyster is taken aback by his partner’s acceptance of the CWA faithful’s response to the team. He chokes on his beer for a second then spits it out. He put shis can down on the coffee table and stands up, looking down at his partner.
Black: It wasn’t like this before Krash. They used to have good things to say about us on those message boards. But now, no. To them we’re stale, we’re trash, we’re not as good as their precious Brotherhood.
Krash: Come on man...they don’t all think that.
Black: Have you heard them at the house shows? The ammount cheering the Brootherhood compared the ammount of fans cheering for us are...I don’t know, they don’t cheer for us anymore.
Krash: We still have fans though.
Alyster shakes his head.
Black: Not when we go up against the Brotherhood. Don’t you see? They’ve turned their backs on us Krash. The moment Kyle Crosby walked through those curtains; they turned their backs on us. Like a child with ADD whose seen something shiny. They turned their affection away from us and gave their hearts and admiration to the Brotherhood. And this wasn’t a sudden change either...no, it’s been building up for a while now. These people have been on the fence about us ever since Ultimate Pain and Guardian Devil showed up on our doorstep. At that very moments they secretly turned away from us, from the Gang Stars...and they started living in the past again. Don’t you see Krash, we’re the future of Adrenaline Rush, we’re the future of the CWA. But these people are still living in the past. They worship farmiliar faces and condemn...us.
Krash looks uneasy, he’s never been the unpopular one before. He’s always been the underdog, sometimes the favorite. Boos were almost foreign to him. But he had noticed a change among the crowd recently.
Black: I don’t want to pander to these people anymore. They have no loyalty to us. We have them one of the best years of our lives, and for what? Just so we could be opponents to boo against their favorites.
Krash: No...it’s not like that. When we go out there at Uprising, they’re going to cheer for us and we’re going to put on a show for them.
Black: Don’t be so naive Krash. We’re better than this. We don’t need to pander to these people. We don’t need to put on a show for them. If anything we should be putting on a show for ourselves. We should be one hundred per cent focused on bringing those tag team titles back home where they belong, by any means necessary.
Krash: Are you sure Al?
Black: As sure as I’ll ever be of anything. I say **** the people, it’s time we started doing things for ourselves.
Krash looks back at the laptop and starts scrolling again. Black again shakes his head at his partner.
Black: Look I’m going out for a walk, I’ll let you sit there and lament on the fact that these people have betrayed us, I trust you’ll adopt a similar attitude towards them that I have.
Krash doesn’t respond. Alyster rolls his mask back down his face and makes his way out the door, which he slams shut rather hard.
Author: Mr. Black
Listening To: “Ascendency” – Trivium
What can I say? Five Star Attraction didn’t go the way we planned. But you know what, neither did Redemption. But you know what has gone the way we planned. Every single other pay-per-view match we’ve been involved in, and (for me at least) every match on Adrenaline Rush. Do you people know what my record is in CWA? It’s pretty good, I’ve only lost two matches here. TWO MATCHES. How many other people in CWA can say that they’ve only lost two matches? The list is very short, I can tell you that. So for all the people out there who are selling the Gang Stars short this Wendsday, who are saying that we don’t have a chance in hell of beating this New Brotherhood. I say thee nay! We do have a chance in hell of beating this New Brotherhood. We’re better than good enough to do it, we’re the best tag team in the whole of the CWA. To all you doubters and haters, I say screw you. Purchase the pay-per-view instead of streaming it for free and watch as Krash and I prove you wrong.
In the future we’re all going to look back on this and laugh. Kyle Crosby is going to look back on this and fondly remember the time he spent at the top, fighting the best new tag team that Adrenaline Rush has ever seen. Kenneth LeBlanc is going to look back on this and be grateful that he had a run in the spotlight, he’ll be like a fat man whose been thrown a bone by a women, “Oh thank you so much, I love you”. Guardian Devil, he’s going to look back on all this with regret. He’s going to regret grabbing his friend Ultimate Pain and coming back. He’s going to regret enlisting the help of Kenneth LeBlanc and Kyle Crosby. He’s going to regret crossing our path. You see I can’t be sure that this will be the last time we face Mr. Devil. I was sure that the last time we were going to face off with Mr. Devil was Five Star Attraction, but that wasn’t the case. So if Uprising isn’t the last time we fight then things are only going to get worse, we’re going to delve into those gimmick matches. Those ridiculous hardcore and death matches (which I excel at BTW). We’re going to engage in wars, we’re going to be main eventing pay-per-views. If this keeps going on, if no one else steps up to fight for those tag team titles. Then the Brotherhood and the Gang Stars may be locked in a never ending battle, Krash and I will face off against Guardian Devil and a rotating cast of team mates, all of whom will abandon and save him, time and time again. That’s the formula for this little feud, and in the future Devil will look back on this with regret and he will say to himself, “Why didn’t I take LeBlanc’s lead and just leave?” You really should Devil, you should do what LeBlanc did and just go. Get the hell out of our hair; you’re making things stale for us.
I’d like to address a trend that I’ve noticed recently, that is you people, you pathetic, moronic fans, I’ve noticed that you’ve taken a rather strong liking to the Brotherhood, or should I say the New Brotherhood. Ever since Crosby showed up you people have been turning against us. Well you know what? That’s not cool. Krash and I have given you one of the best years of wrestling, period. We’ve been pandering to you people, performing moves to keep you entertained as opposed to try and win. We’ve shown up and performed at second rate house shows. Signed autographs and posed for pictures. And for what? Just so you could all turn your backs on us? Well **** you all. You’re not turning your backs on us. We’re turning our backs on you. No more posing for pictures, no more autographs. No more going above and beyond the call of duty just to entertain you. From now on everything we do, we do for ourselves. You want to see someone almost kill themselves doing some spectacular move off the top rope without rhyme or reason? Ask Guardian Devil to do it. You can all go to hell for all I care.
- Mr. Black