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Post by Shaun Hart on Apr 4, 2022 18:44:30 GMT
Tag Team Championship Match Standard Tag Team Rules CCPE vs Debonair Inc
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Post by Tyler Debonair on Apr 8, 2022 13:11:11 GMT
Los Angeles, California - 13:15.
Many different things have come to pass since the elder of the two started his journey in the world of Professional Wrestling almost quarter of a century ago. He’s won title after title, accolade after accolade and even got his Hall of Fame induction into two different promotions without retiring once... But then he did retire, not through injury or any other kind of fuck up, no he merely decided he was going to settle down, run a Wrestling school in Los Angeles and spend some much needed quality time with his children… But in true typical fashion, the kids decided they wanted to become Wrestlers and so the roles reversed and he never really got what he wanted in the end…
Outside of Wrestling he went through a hell of a lot too, growing up in Hell’s Kitchen, an associate of the infamous Greenberg crime family and also connected well to others whilst always staying neutral… Neutral was always good. And yet he couldn’t just seem to get away from the nefariously corrupt FBI and NYPD… So, with his West-Coast wife and children, he hopped on a plane to the other side of the country and settled in Los Angeles, California. After that, his life became quite mundane…
As for the younger member of the duo, his life was anything but mundane. Growing up the son of Professional Wrestlers and touring the country and the world, whilst at the same time having an imaginary friend who not only came to him at night, in his dreams, but also managed to flood the laundry room, shoot a cat with a catapult and push his baby sitter down the stairs… Once he was old enough to go to Wrestling Academy and train to become a Wrestler, his imaginary friend didn’t disappear but quite the opposite, it got stronger and he found himself checking in, to a psychiatric facility for around five years before finding himself at the doors of Intense International Wrestling.
Once he got there, he took the promotion by storm. Becoming fully invested and cementing his place among the top ranked athletes in the organisation and even becoming the inaugural IIW International Champion after a mentally exhausting tournament…… And then there was the disappearing into thin air and waking up somewhere completely different, mid-match no less, along with the talking to his higher self and the flashbacks to his time at the aforementioned psychiatric hospital in which he voluntarily checked himself into, in order to find the peace and quiet to study the Seven Stages of Alchemy… So he thought, at least.
But now, why am I telling you all this? Why am I going through all this information regarding these two men? Well, because I’m the narrator of this story and it requires a bit of ‘previously’ ahead of the next match and of course there needs to be some direction for those who’re going to toe with Fred and Tyler Debonair because unless you’re a true Wrestling fan, an aficionado of the sport, you won’t have a clue in hell who Debonair Inc are… The man driving the car from LAX to the Resnick Psychiatric Hospital has likely never watched a day of Wrestling in his life and believes the suited figure of Tyler Debonair in the backseat to be someone medical or psychological in stature. As the car pulls up outside the stone building, Tyler steps out, palming the driver more bills than he cares to count and telling him to keep the change, as he shuts the door and walks toward the structure.
He presses the buzzer on the panel outside the main doors and a somewhat elderly lady looks up through the glass doors, lowering her glasses and lets out an audible gasp before pressing the button to allow Tyler to open the doors. He steps in, looking around the hospital foyer and letting out a low whistle as he does so…
Tyler: ”Wow… This place hasn’t changed a bit has it… (he cocks an imaginary finger gun, pointing it at the receptionist) and you haven’t changed either have you, Maggie?”
Maggie: ”Is… Is it really you, Tyler?”
Tyler: ”Oh it’s me, ma’am (he flashes a cheeky smile) in the flesh… Look, I know there’s policy but, she’s been calling me and —“
Maggie looks around, leans into a draw, pulls out a lanyard which reads ”GUEST” in big letters across the front and tosses it across the desk at him. She nods silently and points toward a stairwell that Tyler knows only all too well, leading to the “day room”. He nods back in understanding and pushes his way through the double doors, beginning to make his way up the flight of stairs behind them. The brickwork hasn’t been altered in any of the almost seventy five years the hospital has been standing, although there have been many attempts to paint over graffiti and graffiti over paint.
Tyler walks through another set of double doors, two floors up, flashing his lanyard at a couple of orderlies who are walking the other way. He turns a corner and enters the “day room”, looking around for a moment before spotting her sat ironically at his former favourite table, by herself and looking miserable. He slowly approaches her and without looking up, Mercedes-Jane Debonair raises a hand slightly in a partial wave.
MJ: ”Hey…”
Tyler: ”Okay, I’m not going to lie, but even for being in this place you seem like shit, Mercy! How are you doing?”
MJ: ”Miserable as all hell, little brother. I hate it here, it’s making me feel even more insane than I was before! (she looks up at him) I’ve been here less than three months since Auntie Casie kicked me from First Class and I don’t feel anything but shame, regret and anger… Mostly towards myself.”
Tyler: ”Has anybody come to see you, yet? Have you called anyone but me?”
MJ: ”I tried to call dad, but I hung up before it started making that stupid across the pond ring… (she giggles but the tears are showing through) probably a good thing actually, given as he’s gonna be extremely pissed off, when I show you what I wanted to… Did you bring it?”
Tyler just looks at his sister for a brief moment, before slipping his hand into his suit pants and removing an old mobile phone which he passes to her.
Tyler: ”I can’t believe this was still stashed in that burned down wreck you used to call a home… So what’s this about, Mercy? You said it was extremely urgent?”
Mercedes sighs and turns the phone on, still more than seventy percent battery, good. She dives into her voice notes and finds the one she wants. She looks up at Tyler without saying a word and presses play…
MJ [on voice note]: ”Hey Abe, it’s me... How’s Asher? I miss him, tell him that please? But listen… We’re coming over to England with Tyler, he’s joining the IIW after all… And erm, yeah, after all these years he still believes he was at Resnick voluntarily...”
His head seems to involuntarily echo as his eyes glaze over, Tyler Debonair can’t believe what he’s hearing, but the sound in her voice and the look in her eyes tells him, this is genuine... He remembers the day they left Resnick for England, but he doesn’t remember Mercedes leaving a message on her phone. It’s there though, right in front of his eyes, well ears… He hears his sister trying to get his attention, sees her fluctuating in and out of vision, but can’t seem to focus…
MJ: ”Tyler… Are you, ok? Ty? I’m sorry it had to be done like this, I never wanted to mention it, but —“
Tyler: ”Who else knew?”
MJ: ”What?”
Tyler: ”It’s not a difficult question, Mercy… (He looks up at her) Obviously you and Abe knew, I’m guessing Pops… What about Auntie Casie? Steph even?”
The look on Mercedes’ face says everything Tyler needs to know and he sighs heavily, pushing back from the table causing an orderly to rush in from the hallway outside. Tyler sees him and holds his hand up, indicating that nothing is happening before he turns back toward his sister, a scowl on his face.
Tyler: ”So, what’s the truth? I mean I was here, for over five years… Never treated as intensely as Darius was, or other patients. I was allowed a lot more leniency here and shit, now I’m getting major shutter island vibes! And ON TOP of all that! It seems Jonny C was absolutely accurate on his faux promo visiting here, when he said I wasn’t here of my own accord! Damn that makes me look pathetic!”
MJ: ”We thought we were doing right by you, Tyler. It’s not like we lied to you… You believed you were there voluntarily and we just didn’t correct you.”
Tyler: ”And you allowed me to think that I didn’t need psychological help! You, Pops, my own girlfriend?!”
MJ: ”… It worked, didn’t it?”
Tyler just stares at Mercedes who looks apologetic, but defiant. Suddenly a look crosses her face, her mouth opens in an O shape and she begins pointing at Tyler as she scoots her chair backwards and joins him in standing up.
MJ: ”Oh… No, no wait a minute… You’ve got the tag-title match with dad against CCPE at the upcoming PPV haven’t you?! Oh my God, I should have waited until after to tell you all this…”
Tyler: ”Yeah, I do. But I think you knew that and I think you picked the perfect time to tell me all this, Mercy…”
MJ: ”No! Tyler you’ve got to believe me. I know why I’m in here and I’m fully aware of what I’ve done to get me here, but I don’t hold any animosity against you, dad, Casie… Anyone! I messed up and I’m owning that, this has just been plaguing my mind for so long!”
Again, he can see the sincerity and truth in her eyes. She was right though, in less than two weeks he’d be standing beside his father, in a Wrestling ring ready to take on the current IIW tag champs, CCPE, “Chronic” Chris Page and Thaddeus Duke in order to take back said IIW tag-titles… But how is he going to be able to do that, with this knowledge hanging over his head?! How is he supposed to stand side by side with somebody he no longer believes he can trust? His own father no less… He finally breaks eye contact, approaches Mercedes and gives her a kiss on the forehead, leaving her to look on after him, as he walks back through the doors of the “Day room”…
…Manchester, England - 19:00.
He steps off the sidewalk and slowly makes his way across the deserted road underneath the railway bridge. His jacket hanging over his arm as his blonde locks tassel with his shirt collar. He approaches the black Aston Martin Vulcan before messing with his hair in the window reflection and pressing the key fob to unlock the ever so slightly more humbling red Nissan Skyline GTR R34, parked in front of it.
Man: ”Idiot is gonna get that beauty smashed to shit, leaving it parked out here.”
He opens the car door to step inside, before feeling a couple of objects hit his back and another the roof of his car. He hears some youngsters shouting for him to “fuck off, back home to America” before spinning around. Fred Debonair watches all three boys’ faces morph into shock and fear as he looks down at the Coke cans and Kebab wrappers that are clearly the culprits of the “attack” one of the boys stutters…
Boy: ”Oh… M… M… My God, Mr. Debonair! We’re s… S… So sorry! We thought you were Chris Page!”
Fred: ”Do I LOOK like Chris Page?!
The silence is palpable and awkward as two of the boys shake their heads “no” really fast, the third however gives an extremely slow nod “yes” in Fred’s direction. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head before climbing into the car and gunning the engine, driving off… He speaks out loud asking the car’s phone device to make a phone call and listens as the ringing tone fills the car, before we hear a click and a voice answers on the other end of the line.
Voice: ”Fred my boy… To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Fred: ”Abe, you good? By the sounds of the tone, you’re in the country am I right?”
Abe: ”You certainly are my friend, you certainly are. What can I do for you?”
Fred: ”You’ve heard what’s going down at KKND by now, I assume? So, Thaddeus Duke… Chris Page, talk to me…”
Abe: ”You’ve never heard of them?”
Fred: ”Of course I’ve heard of them, Abe. I’m asking you to talk to me. What do you know of them?”
Abe: ”I mean, there isn’t much I can say about them Fred, especially Page that he doesn’t constantly remind people all the time, but sure. Multiple time World Champion, three time Hall of Famer, businessman in every sense of the word, Fred there’s no denying he’s a draw and a huge one at that. You know he actually reminds me of —”
Fred: ”Beautiful… And what about his tag partner, Thaddeus Duke?”
Abe: ”Another big player but a lot younger, more Tyler’s age. Strange because he has a finishing move… The Heatseeker.”
Fred: ”Uh-huh, I saw him use it against Team Friendship, more than once.”
Abe: ”Well… That move is a clone of Tyler’s Peacemaker. I mean, Fred, honestly you two and these guys? It’s bloody weird is what it is, that’s all I can say.”
Fred: ”What’s weird my bearded Rabbi-like friend, is the fact that these guys are such big players in the industry, of this there’s no doubt and yet even whilst I was retired and training the new breed of Wrestler, I never came across either of them.”
Abe: ”And I’m sure they’ll say they’ve no idea who you are either, Fred, even if they do. The kid probably had posters of you on his wall as he was growing up…”
Fred: ”It was probably Page to be honest.”
Abe: ”Hah! Now you’re getting it, pal. I am aware that they’ve frequented around 5-6 promotions between them though and sometimes not one at a time.”
Fred: ”Hey, we’d all be organisational Gypsy’s if we could Abe, let’s not knock it! Anyway about that other business…”
Abe: ”Tomorrow morning, Courthouse rooftop?”
Fred: ”You’ve got it, see you then brother…”
Fred hangs up from the call, just as he’s pulling up to his Manchester apartment, shutting the car off and just sitting there for a little while… Suddenly his phone flashes to life with a text and without opening it, Fred reads it from the Home Screen…
Fred: ”Ahh shit…”
He closes his eyes and slowly bashes his head onto the steering wheel, allowing for the horn to go off, several times…
… Manchester, England: The Courthouse Rooftop - 11:00.
One of the two men are sat on an old metal school chair, dressed in thick white Nike sneakers, faded denim jeans and a black hooded top with “The Original” written on the front with a caricature of himself on the back. Fred Debonair takes a huge pull on the fat spliff he has in his hands and blows out smoke, offering it out to the other man, Abe Greenberg, who takes it. He is dressed in his usual attire of a three-piece Italian suit and a black “pork-pie” hat. Abe takes a draw on the joint and leans against the edge of the rooftop, looking out at the skyline, speaking without looking back at Fred.
Abe: ”So, what it’s coming down to, Fred, is that you are never to set foot in Hell’s Kitchen again, you are never to take up with the family again and in return, he will not seek you out and blow your fucking nuts, out of your scrotum.”
Fred: ”And did he say this in so many words, Abe?”
Abe: ”No, Fred. He said this in those exact words. Verbatim.”
Fred: ”Well look, I don’t have any plans to travel back to Hell’s Kitchen any time soon, so he can wait to collect on that threat. But he’d better be prepared to deliver because I have business in that part of New York and I will indeed be going back there.”
Fred stands up from the chair and takes the spliff back from Abe, inhaling another big toke, before waving his hand signalling he has something to tell him.
Fred: ”So, er we need to talk brother… Urgently.”
Abe: ”Oh? About?”
Before he can open his mouth again, the door to the rooftop bursts open and Tyler Debonair comes storming out, a look of blood fury on his face. Fred hands Abe back the joint and raises his palms toward his son.
Fred: ”Yeah, bit too late to explain, you’ll see.”
Tyler heads straight for Fred, completely ignoring Abe who tries to say hi, except for one finger pointed straight up as he passes him. He launches himself at Fred, grabbing him by his hoodie and forcing him all the way back to the edge of the rooftop and over the wall slightly.
Fred: ”Been to see your sister, eh?”
Tyler: ”Yep…”
Fred: ”And now you’d like me tell you, that what she said was bullshit, right?”
Tyler: ”Yep…”
Fred and Tyler just look at each other for a good eight to ten seconds, before the elder Debonair shakes his head.
Fred: ”I’m sorry Ty, I can’t do that…”
Tyler: ”So, it’s all true?! (he let’s go of Fred and pushes himself back throwing his hands up) all this time you’ve known and were in on it, allowing me to believe that I checked myself in, I sectioned myself?!”
Abe: ”Oooh… That’s what this is about….”
Tyler: ”Yeah, Abe! That is what this is about! And you, one of my Pops oldest partners and generals couldn’t even tell me?!”
Fred: ”Son, you’ve got this so far wrong you’re lost! Nobody was “in on” anything! Everything done, was to help you.”
Tyler: ”Seeing things?! Talking to people?! You put all that in my head too?”
Abe: ”No mate, that has been all you unfortunately… (offers the spliff) you want some of this? You’re seeming a far touch away from “The ZENsational” we all know and love…”
Tyler: ”Abe, with all due respect would you please stop talking to me you’re making things worse. The two of you can easily see I’m still very much calm through all this (he looks to Fred) but you? You’re my Pops man… How have you never explained what happened to me, there??”
Fred: ”Because there’s nothing to explain, son. You were sick, you believed you were responsible for your own incarceration in that place and we were able to fight for you every step without you realising that you needed it.”
Tyler just stands there, looking at Fred, through him and past him… The cogs are turning in his head, but he’s still finding it exceptionally difficult to separate the assistance from the hindrance and is unable to understand, still, why what was done had to be.
Tyler: ”We have a tag-team title match to prepare for and belts to bring back to the company. Right now I’m trying to work out how I’m supposed to work alongside you, when you’ve done what you have…”
Fred: ”C’mon Tyler! I’m your father man!”
Tyler: ”Yeah and that’s what makes this so much more difficult… Fred. (he turns and walks away, calling out behind him) We’ve got an interview scheduled with Michael Morrison in like three hours…”
Tyler continues toward the rooftop door, as Abe whispers a curse word, dropping the roach now burning his fingers onto the floor. Fred puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, watching the door slam shut…
…Manchester, England: Manchester Arena - 14:30.
Fred is stood in the arena, just before the entrance ramp dressed in an all black ensemble of sneakers, jeans and a “Debonair Inc” t-shirt. A camera crew are getting set up and Michael Morrison is checking microphone levels with the sound technician. They look over at Fred who smiles and holds his thumb up, then looks at his watch and sighs. He turns to grab a cup of water when suddenly, from the curtain appears Tyler, dressed in all white from head to toe, including a t-shirt that reads “ZENsational” on the front.
Fred: ”Hey Ty, we good? We really should talk about what’s happened son…”
Tyler: ”Oh we’re gonna discuss it, but let’s just get this out of the way shall we?” (shouting to Morrison) hey Michael? Sorry I’m late! We’re good when you are!”
Michael Morrison breathes a sigh of relief and pats the cameraman on the shoulder as they both approach Fred and Tyler. Morrison stands between them, microphone in hand and the cameraman counts him in from 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
Michael Morrison: ”Alright ladies and gentlemen welcome to another edition of Mayhem with Morrison, except this is a special edition with IIW’s PPV KKND coming up in just over a week and the two men standing with me right now, Fred and Tyler Debonair also known as Debonair Inc, will go head to head with our new Tag-Team Champs, the “Outsiders” if you will… CCPE, Chronic Chris Page and Thaddeus Duke. Before I get into that, Fred I do want to ask you what is going on between you guys and The Celtic Club currently?!”
Fred: ”Hey Mike, jumping straight in there aren’t ya? We’re good firstly thanks for asking and I hope you’ve had a pleasant weekend! But okay let’s get right to be the point of your question before addressing the thing that matters most right now! So… The Celtic Club! Now ya know, I knew what John Cavanagh had been saying when our last match was done, how that ended everything between us and put it to bed and I completely disagreed! You see I felt that final match had opened more doors than it closed and I said this to Cav and since then it’s felt like The CC have been going out of their way to make sure that there was never a continuation! So far at least…”
Michael Morrison: And that of course included stealing your baseball bat, Cindy-Lee as well as attacking your sister, the current GM of First Class, Casie… However a couple of weeks back on Mayhem, you showed The Celtic Club that you weren’t about taking things lying down and you got some revenge in the way of destroying their locker room and then goading Andy Donahue and Trigger Cavanagh! So, what’s next?”
Fred: ”Well of course I didn’t get to finish things off as I’d have liked to, but I did (leans down and brings up the black and red bat, Cindy-Lee) get my baby back and here she is! I put her to work straight away too! But I’m saving the real fun, for after we’ve dealt with the business aspect.”
Michael Morrison: ”And that was about to be my next topic, guys, this tag-title situation. A couple of weeks ago Team Friendship, consisting of course of Russell Wayne and Curtis, issued an open challenge via IIW, to any and all tag-teams who’d hear it and that invitation landed on the doorstep of one “Chronic” Chris Page… He in turn hit up good friend Thaddeus Duke and together the two men came to IIW and well, they took the belts back with them and now you’ve got your chance to shine…”
Tyler: ”Got our chance to shine, Morrison? Our chance to shine? Man we had to snatch that son of a bitch from the grasp of Jenny Fletcher and IIW because for some strange reason the entire promotion somehow forgot that my Pops and I existed! Someone up there in the offices that deals with the roster clean had a lapse in focus when trying to work out who Team Friendship could face when it came to defending the IIW tag-titles! And even then! Even when we came out publicly on Mayhem right before the tag-title match and made it clear we were declaring ourselves the number one contenders for the belts, Jenny Fletcher had other ideas and decided she’d chuck us into a “number one contenders match” against her fWo lackeys, The BITCH Squad!”
Fred: ”You see, Michael, there are two kinds of people in this world… Those who wait to be asked and those who just take and we fall into the latter category, always have! Better to ask for forgiveness, than permission. And as we saw over the last month, Page and Duke are also that kind of duo… Now I may not like them very much, hell I don’t particularly like the guys at all, but I do respect them and what they’re about! We said this on Mayhem that we’d be more than willing to take them on and it would be a match we’d relish! Just as long as they understood that they wouldn’t be leaving KKND as the IIW tag-champs… You see it’s a good thing, confidence, when you’ve got it stored in the right places…. But sometimes that confidence can overspill into cockiness and arrogance and something tells me that Chris Page and Thaddeus Duke are those who’ve got a mop and bucket on hand every step of the way.”
Tyler: ”I mean these guys can’t even figure out what kind of tag-team they are, Page talks about how he doesn’t make it a habit of just walking into another promotion trying to take their belts and in the next breath he’s talking about how there’s nothing more satisfying than taking something that somebody else has worked hard to achieve and obtain, that to me sounds like people who definitely make this kind of gig, a habit. For us it’s a different scenario though, we work hard to take what we deserve and right now, what we deserve is the IIW tag-titles around our waists! Let’s forget the fact that the promotion we are contracted with, ignored us. Let’s forget that the company went out of their way to find opposition for Team Friendship outside of their doors only to now suddenly have that in-house opposition in the first place…”
Fred: ”But it’s okay, because we know our worth Michael and always have done… And when we bring about the end of CCPE here in IIW and take those belts back to where they belong, then those who seem to be doubting us, will understand that we may have had a blip throughout the last few matches but form is only temporary and we’re still the biggest and baddest names on any roster at any given time… Debonair Enterprises has been around as an entity for the best part now of something like quarter of a century! But listening to people around the Wrestling world you’d think we had next to no chance!”
Michael Morrison looks slightly confused when Fred finishes speaking, turning to face both men back and forth.
Michael Morrison: ”Sorry Fred, but what do you mean no chance? Everybody is hailing you as the winners in this match, from Shaun Hart right up to one half of the former tag champs, Russell Wayne.”
Tyler: ”Business approach my man, Shaun Hart? Works for IIW, same goes for Russell Wayne and anyone else that’s currently had the back of Debonair Inc when discussing the upcoming match! They have to say us or it looks bad… But you go on ahead and take a look at the likes of Wrestling expert, Denzel Porter or certain publications and you’ll see that everybody has CCPE coming out of this match the victors! That’s okay though Michael because we’ve always known we’d be the underdogs in this fight… Why? Because everybody loves a spitfire! Everybody loves the guys who come out all guns blazing with zero context to what they’re ranting about, it’s just a perception field to hide their insecurities, but you know what? The fans lap it up…! Commentators and pundits, the same!”
Fred: ”The simple fact of the matter Michael, is that Social Media has flipped everything on its head. You know, when I first stepped into a Wrestling ring at sixteen years old there wasn’t much of Social Media, Internet Wrestling forums of course but nothing like Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. I’m pretty sure though when Page first Wrestled there wasn’t even an Internet! (He looks between both Morrison and Tyler) Did you guys know how old he is?! I was shocked when I found out… Also I’ve seen some photos of the guy, when he wrestled in WGWF and I’m pretty certain he’s had some work done… You know, just saying! I’ve known obsessive fans to do worse! Anyway I digress. Social Media has made people brave Morrison… Brave, but stupid!”
Tyler pulls a cellphone from his pocket and opens up a page, showing it to Michael Morrison, then the camera, before slipping it back into his pocket.
Tyler: ”Stupid is as stupid does though, Michael and if the truth is to be spoken right now, that’s the tagline for our faux tag-team champions! They gloat and they brag and all we’ve been hearing is that they’re both multiple this and multiple that and that Thaddeus has this record and Page has been a member of this special group of people or has that accolade and I don’t think we could make it any clearer if we literally turned down all that noise and… (waves the camera closer to him and whispers) come here… And said. So - what?!”
Fred: ”You see Michael, I’ve taken a look through Chris Page’s history and I’ve checked his haul and to a neutral fan of Wrestling, yeah it’s impressive. I mean the guy’s had World Title reigns, he’s had tag reigns, he’s topped feuds and been best and most hated Wrestler at the same time I mean that’s no mean feat eh?! But Morrison, I could sit here and spout off about my multiple Title wins, my Hall of Fame inductions, plural… I could speak on my North American Title claims, my Tag title hauls, my matches of the year, youngest Wrestler of the year, Wrestler of the year… I mean my list could go on and on… But there’s a saying that goes as follows. “He who knows, does not speak. He who speaks, does not know”… Lao Tzu.”
Tyler: ”Or you could take the quote from Matthew Prior… “They talk most, who have the least to say.” In either case they’re both fitting and both work. You see you wanna advertise your what? Seventeen, eighteen World Title wins Page? You know what that tells me? That you’ve lost those belts just as many times as you’ve won them. All it says is that you hoss, have been chasing those belts, as many times as you have been, a champion… And then you waltz into IIW, under this pretence you’re “just answering an open challenge” when in reality you’re stinking the place up with desperation, with this urge to continue to be relevant in a way that, granted, has been a bit of thinking outside the box.”
Fred: ”But really, underneath the masquerade of being some genius Professor Xavier sans powers and baldness, however I bet if we looked carefully we’d see you’re getting there Page… You’re nothing more than a sad little man who grew up friendless and dreamed of being Magneto. The super villain who drew everything toward him by force because he couldn’t stand being alone and couldn’t do all the work himself! It scared him, scared him to the point that despite all the stuff he’s won and has been able to add to his name, he feared he was losing that touch! So he needed this band of Merry Men and Women to help carry this “Chronic Chris Page” name! (he smirks slightly) And you know why he’s called “Chronic” right? It isn’t anything smoke related, well I guess it is… But it’s to do with the CHRONIC arthritis he suffers, comes with age honestly! I’m sure I’ll get there in about a decade…”
Tyler holds out his arms, palms down and slowly takes a breath in as he closes his eyes, as a symbol of getting back into a place of peace and relaxation. He exhales and opens his eyes again.
Tyler: ”And then we have Geppetto’s boy-child… Thaddeus Leander Duke the second. Thad as I’ve seen him mentioned as… A friend of ours recently said there’s a lot of similarities between Debonair Inc and this particular CCPE pairing. Now, I can kind of see that with my Pops and Page but Thaddeus and myself? Nah. The only similarities are age and the fact that we both turn peoples lights off, with the same move, just with a different given name. You’ll see me sitting here calm as the ocean on a summers day, cool as a cucumber if you will, then you get “Thad” over here, we had a little, conversation if you will, over Socials this week and he started getting a little triggered over the mentioning of losses he and Page took, separately I might add, in a tournament this last week! (shakes his hands and fingers in mock Thad fashion) ”Ooh! You can’t talk about G1! There were so many variables in those losses me and my big daddy took!” (straightens back up and shakes his head) eh-uh! That’s wrong, hoss! You see it doesn’t matter if it’s a tournament, a singles match or tag action! It doesn’t matter if there’s variables, decibels or crucibles! A loss, is a loss, is a loss! I mean otherwise right now you’re looking at the two most undefeated athletes in the world of Professional Wrestling! But you can at least take one thing from those losses though, Thad. Neither of you were the pinned party, so there’s that!”
Fred: ”You fellas have also got that obvious connection, where nobody but each other will do inside the ring, it’s quite sweet really! Pair you up with other people and you fall flat on your face, but put you next to one another and the outcome is potentially a win in your column… You know each other so well and oh, we already know that you’ll probably come out and say, despite the fact we’ve been known in this industry for as long as you have, possibly even longer… You don’t know who we are, you’ll say this because you think it’ll get under our skin (makes a mocking tone) ”No Fred, we say it because it’s true!” (he chuckles and winks at Michael Morrison) Sure thing boys! But here’s the difference between us, come here I’ll let you in on a little secret… You see Page, Thad… We know EXACTLY who you are. We just… Simply don’t care!”
Tyler: ”We don’t care if you’ve held the WGWF world title many times, we don’t care if you’ve been inducted into the Hall of Fame, Hall of Legends or Hall-ics Anonymous of any kind! We really aren’t bothered if you once held titles in the XWF, OCW, ABC, LSD, OCD, or PHD! But what we do care about boys, is the fact you’re holding the IIW Tag-Team titles when you’re not even contracted here… Now I get it, you answered a call and kudos to you for besting Curtis and Russell Wayne but just understand that whilst you are currently holding those belts, you are only keeping them warm, for us! You boys can keep doing your “holier than thou” schtick all you want but believe me when I say the only thing that matters, is how we fare in the ring at KKND! You could be holding eight different titles from eight different promotions each and it wouldn’t make a lick of difference when you step into the ring on April seventeenth!”
Fred: ”You see to us, it seems as if you boys have had it easy, walking in somewhere and leaving with gold or at the very least, a victory. You got lucky with Team Friendship and it appears to have given you a false sense of entitlement where opposition in IIW are concerned… Well, no offence to Russell and Curtis, but we’re not them fellas! So you keep that ego running if it helps you sleep, you keep that confident arrogance burning on the log fire if it gives you the warm fuzzies before you step into the ring with Debonair Inc… Just know as much as we respect your abilities we aren’t afraid of, or concerned with, either of you. Have a good one, guys. See you at the Pay-Per-View.”
/fin.
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Post by Chris Page on Apr 12, 2022 15:27:28 GMT
I wish I could stand before you and say that we didn’t tell you so when it came to smacking around your so-called best tag team on the roster while taking the IIW Tag Titles, but that wouldn’t be the truth. It would be like me saying Jonny is a legitimate World Champion. Neither of those dogs hunt, Ya see. Team Friendship was and is a joke just like Jonny parading around with a title that he represents poorly; and while I’d love to shred Jonny, that time shall come. Walking through the front doors of the IIW shocked the wrestling world, and rightfully so, I meanyou’ve seen the low level of talent on this roster just like I have so to see someone of my caliber show up and answer an open challenge got a lot of panties wet behind that curtain. It would have been one thing if I walked through those doors alone… but I happened to bring one of the young prodigies of the business in Thaddeus Duke with me as collectively mopping the floors with all of you without breaking a sweat is exactly what is about to take place. I’m a man that’s known around the globe for being one of the greatest to lace a pair of boots. I didn’t get that honor by showing up weekly or biweekly to simply go through the motions, I didn’t get that honor by phoning shit in until it matters, and I sure as shit didn’t get that honor because I can’t back my play.
Unlike you, I’m successful everywhere I’ve gone.
Unlike you, my brand is a household name.
… and unlike you, I can leave the business tomorrow while being remembered for eternity.
___________________
Behind the Scenes: Down the Rabbit Hole April 3, 2022
Chris Page and Candice Wolf had just finished recording “Down the Rabbit Hole”- their biweekly, or monthly podcast for those unfamiliar, and if you are, shame on you. They’ve recorded in Candice’s office at the world-renowned Velvet Rabbit. The headsets have come off, the microphones turned off as Chris is finally able to take a long sigh that catches Candice’s attention.
CANDICE WOLF: Everything okay?
Chris immediately yawns as he covers his mouth using his left hand while sitting across from Candice who is seated behind her desk. With the yawn complete Chris responds.
CHRIS PAGE: I’m just tired.
CANDICE WOLF: You need to get some rest, Chris. You’ve not slowed down since September of last year, and I mean you did just get back from an overseas trip.
CHRIS PAGE: I wish that was in the equation.
CANDICE WOLF: Well, if you get up and go back to the bedroom it can be. I’ve got some business to handle downstairs anyway.
CHRIS PAGE: That’s not what I mean… I’ve got to do Johncast in literally an hour.
Candice starts to shake her head from right to left slightly as she responds.
CANDICE WOLF: You don’t slow down, do you?
CHRIS PAGE: It gets worse…
Candice laughs under her breath while Chris smirks before continuing.
CHRIS PAGE: I’ve got pret-apes tomorrow morning for Fight’s Venom, hop on my plane and fly out for Action Wrestling Monday Night, I have the XWF’s Warfare to contend with, the IIW Tag Titles, the Havoc Rumble, Uprising’s deal that you’re a part of, the Cannabis Cup, and Fight is clamoring for me to get back into the ring with them.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve had my foot on the gas for a hot minute. There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with being Chris Page from in-ring commitments, podcasting with Candice Wolf, working on launching a new program, managing the premiere talents in the business today, consulting behind the scenes with several promotions, and running a multi-million dollar conglomerate that is CCPE… When I say I am the hardest working man in the business today those words I dare someone, anyone to prove them wrong.
There’s not a talent in the business right not that wields the stroke that I do, that’s a goddamn fact. With all the travel, with all the appearances, with all the glitz that comes with being me I’m a little disappointed that I haven’t found a federation worthy enough to have my name on the dotted line with a full-time contract; trust the offers are there. Such is the case with the IIW. I see a group of misfits that are trying to play professional wrestlers but when push comes to shove you don’t know a thing about the business or what makes it tick. Such is the case with our next set of victims.
CANDICE WOLF: I just don’t see how you manage to keep it all straight.
CHRIS PAGE: Of course you do… I’m a businessman, you’re a businesswoman. We both live for what we do. We’re never content or complacent while chasing after the next big success… not to mention all these per appearance deals are tremendous on the bank account.
There’s a momentary pause from Chris as he then states.
CHRIS PAGE: I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet while traveling from federation to federation, or making the loops as I call them, my record is damn near impeccable. Is it flawless? Of course, nobody is perfect but I will say that these should have only hit the mat once since September of last year. Can the Debonair say the same? No, wait, they’d rather poke at Thaddeus or me over a GeminiOne series that one of those cunts dared to claim it’s a fake tournament because what, exactly? Because they aren’t involved. See kids, I want you to pay close attention to what comes next because this separates the bitch ass rooks of the business from everyone else. I’ll swat this down with one very simple question but the rest of the ass-chewing that follows is just because I want to educate you all on how not to be a stupid dick trying to jock ride off of people that are simply better than you in every sense of the words; doppelganger.
Why didn’t you or your brother sign your names on the dotted line to compete since it WAS open to any team on the planet for well over a month, promoted daily via Splat on Twitter and other media outlets? There’s your question that smacks the shit out of your attempt to throw some sort of shade on a tournament that I am taking part in because guys like YOU would rather wave your goddamn pom-poms from the sidelines versus daring to be different, by stepping out of your corner and exploring options that are out there. Spare me the “I didn’t know” and man the fuck up admit that you and your brother are better suited on those sidelines spouting off where the bitch boys belong.
CANDICE WOLF: Can I get you anything while I’m downstairs?
Candice asks as she gets out of her chair and walks around the desk to the chair that Chris occupies. She starts to rub his broad shoulders. Chris reaches across his body to his left shoulder grabbing his left hand of Candice as he rubs his thumb across her knuckles.
CHRIS PAGE: Nah, I’m good.
He pats the top of her left hand. She pats him on the shoulders before turning and leaving him to enjoy the sounds of silence within a busy world. His phone begins to ring, because why wouldn’t it? Chris looks over at Candice’s desk seeing the name displayed. He takes it from the desk sending the call to voice mail.
CHRIS PAGE: I can’t right now.
Or what about this by my fellow look-a-like. How about how in the same random tweets you want to toss out some random drivel about doing what we accused Team Friendship of doing?
I tell you what buttercup if you or anyone else that claims to be a team were worth shit the IIW wouldn’t have put a call out to ANYONE else to slap those chumps around like we did to take those titles. I’m not going to pretend I know your history because honestly, you’re not worth that kind of time or energy when we all know this ends with CCPE retaining the Championship. What I will say is for someone that has talked a big game behind a keyboard I certainly hope that you bring that kind of fire to the table when you drop that promotional package for little ole Tyler shit the bed more than a three-month-old baby.
… more on that to come.
There’s no one looking forward to shutting your mouth more than I am because it’s one thing to look like me but it’s something else completely if you think I’m buying into the bill of goods that you’re trying to sell. You don’t pack much of a punch when you’ve been around for a hot minute and yet I’ve never heard of you or so much as seen you compete until I watched you two weeks ago; what did a see?
A cheap Chris Page knockoff.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, consider myself flattered to have garnered so much of your attention.
____________________
Present Day: Featuring Denzel Porter
We fade in on the Breaking News set of one Denzel Porter who can be seen sitting behind his news desk…
His attention is directed toward the camera. He takes a sip from his coffee cup, placing it back on the desk he’s counted down off-screen.
DENZEL PORTER: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to another edition of “Breaking News”, I am Denzel Porter.
His attention shifts to the camera left as he adjusts his body.
DENZEL PORTER: Today on the program I’ve got a good one for you. He’s a man that I’ve interviewed on a few occasions; each time better than the previous so I expect this to be no different, ladies and gentlemen joining me on this special edition of “Breaking News” ... He is one-half of the IIW World Tag Team Champions, the figurehead of CCPE, he is the legend that is “CHRONIC” CHRIS PAGE!
The live audience gives up a nice pop as the countdown clock ticks down to zero before shifting into “Judas” by Fozzy. Chris Page walks out onto the sound stage…
Chris stops and waves toward the audience before turning towards Denzel’s desk where Denzel is standing and applauding Chris as he walks over to the chair next to the desk. Denzel stops applauding as he extends his right hand answered by Page’s as he reaches the stage. The handshake takes place, Chris takes his seat, and the music fades away at the chorus of the track leaving the fans that sing along.
“I BECOME, I BECOME, I BECOMING!”
“I BECOME, I BECOME, I BECOMINNNNNNNGGGG!”
“JUDAS IN, JUDAS IN YOUR MIND!”
Chris Page laughs from his seat before standing up and applauding the crowd which in turn draws applause from them. He retakes his seat opposite Denzel as the crowd continues to cheer while Denzel welcomes Chris to his set.
DENZEL PORTER: Chris man, it’s always a pleasure to sit down with you because one thing is for certain… nothing is for certain.
The crowd quiets down as Chris responds.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s always good times for sure…
Chris turns his head towards the unseen studio audience.
CHRIS PAGE: And thank all of you for that warm welcome. Sing-A-Longs are always a welcomed addition to any appearance.
Chris once again directs towards Denzel.
CHRIS PAGE: Mr. Porter, what’s going on bud?
DENZEL PORTER: Man you tell me. You are all over the place, but we might need to address the elephant in the room.
Denzel’s statement piques Chris’s interest right off the jump.
CHRIS PAGE: Oh? I love those, due tell?
DENZEL PORTER: You haven’t made a lot of friends over in Action Wrestling with that open letter leading into the Havoc Rumble.
Chris responds with sheer sarcasm.
CHRIS PAGE: Oh that…
DENZEL PORTER: Yes that, don’t be all nonchalant with me.
The crowd applauds Denzel as Chris gives Mr. Porter his props with a fist bump.
CHRIS PAGE: In regards to all that, I’m not going to pretend that all of the masses have the slightest clue as to what you’re talking about, but for those that do I’ll just say this. My appearance in the Havoc Rumble is going to be one to be remembered. I don’t care if I didn’t make friends, I have plenty that might be showing up… if you catch my drift.
DENZEL PORTER: Oh it’s caught Mr. Page, but do you think you went a little too far?
CHRIS PAGE: Not, as a matter of fact, I’ll say I didn’t go far enough… but let me ask you this, did it get people talking?
Denzel immediately responds.
DENZEL PORTER: No doubt.
CHRIS PAGE: That’s the win. You’re welcome to Action Wrestling.
Chris shoots a thumbs up at the camera.
DENZEL PORTER: Uprising, you’re on the cusp of a 6 Person Tag; you, Brittani Helms, and Jackie O Lantern are taking on Clyde Cheney and the Crowe Brothers with Father Cheney and Mr. Crowe in their corner.
CHRIS PAGE: You forgot to mention that accompanying us on our side of the equation is none other than the Velvet Rabbit’s own Candice Wolf and the legend that is Centurion.
DENZEL PORTER: True, true.
CHRIS PAGE: I’ve been wanting to get my hands on Father Cheney in some form or fashion since that stunt he pulled at the Velvet Rabbit with that protest nonsense. He wasn’t man enough to get in the ring with me thus sends some minions. Cool story, what’s not going to be cool is the result. Brittani Helms and Jackie came to my aid, so now I’ll come to theirs.
Chris pauses.
CHRIS PAGE: And let Father Cheney stick his nose in this business… my backup will be looking for any reason to bring the CCPE Cannabis Cup to come early.
DENZEL PORTER: Speaking of CCPE, an enterprise of talent that you’ve brought together.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s your show, hoss. Who do you want to talk about?
It’s not a secret or a surprise that CCPE is a hot topic of conversation. I’ve assembled the best of the best in and around the wrestling business from the premier companies today. Sorry IIW isn’t one of them.
DENZEL PORTER: The obvious place to start is with the Xtreme Wrestling Federation; not only do you have CCPE members on the roster but you are running the Wednesday Warfare program. How can you manage a show that features some of the talents with CCPE?
CHRIS PAGE: Easy.
Chris winks at Denzel.
CHRIS PAGE: No seriously, as a part of my agreement with the XWF figureheads; Vinnie Lane and Theo Pryce, if any favoritism is shown under any circumstance I will immediately be relieved of my duties as General Manager. Now, I’ve heard the rumblings myself so let's address it. CCPE talents win or lose on their own merits without me in the mix.
There’s a pause from Page before he continues.
CHRIS PAGE: Every person I’ve signed to this brand are stars all on their own. The list reads like a who’s who when it comes to the best all-around performers within the business today. We all believe we are the best, and we all go out of our way to prove it. This isn’t just a company it’s a frame of mind, Mr. Porter. If you look at March Madness just a few weeks ago there were two matches pitting CCPE vs CCPE. No favoritism on my end.
DENZEL PORTER: When it comes to the Warfare brand what are you hoping to accomplish considering you’ve recently assumed the role?
CHRIS PAGE: It’s one of those situations where I can use the experience I have when it comes to running a successful product that generates real feelings and emotions. I’m not here to slam Derrick Diamond or Smokin’ Bob because they did the best they could; however, I fully plan on going down as the best General Manager the XWF has ever seen with an unbiased eye.
DENZEL PORTER: You mentioned earlier the who’s who of talent that has signed on with your brand. Let’s talk about them for a second; Joe Montuori out of Fight NYC…
Chris starts to laugh under his breath which prompts Denzel to ask.
DENZEL PORTER: What’s up with J-Mont, man? He recently has been through a lot of things, contract negotiations and all that. What made you seek him out for CCPE?
CHRIS PAGE: Montuori is just a few pieces away from having the entire puzzle put together. He had some personal things, some false accusations made that we’ve since cleared up. His Fight contract is still being negotiated, or so I should say… but what I will say is that Miss F hasn’t made any attempts to return my calls to talk terms. That ball is in their court. They know when his shit expires.
Chris pauses before he continues.
CHRIS PAGE: As for the latter he is a no-brainer for CCPE. Part of what I am looking for are guys like Joe who HAVE been overlooked by the places they call home. Fight has overlooked and misused J-Mont since the end of season one. Not denying it. There are some bigger things on his horizons with or without Fight NYC money.
DENZEL PORTER: While on the subject of Fight it’s going to take me to Sahara.
CHRIS PAGE: The only female within the ranks of the Enterprise, and the only person that rightfully has a bigger chip on her shoulder than J-Mont. Why hasn’t she been given a shot a the Empire Championship? She’s beaten damn near everyone that has crossed her path, and yet gets no respect for her accomplishments.
I bet you’re wondering how is any of this relevant, right? Why am I wasting precious airtime explaining what CCPE is? It’s painlessly simple because it’s relevant to who the fuck I am and what I am doing outside of this little pond you call the IIW but more importantly why the IIW reached out to me to give this place some much-needed exposure since guys like the Debonair have done such a PHENOMENAL job in making this company mainstream.
CHRIS PAGE: Prove me wrong.
DENZEL PORTER: I can’t say you’re wrong. I’ve been following Sahara for a while, and she’s taken her game to a completely different level.
CHRIS PAGE: She’s a spitfire, although she’ll tell you the word spit isn’t in her vocabulary.
DENZEL PORTER: Sebastian Everett Bryce.
CHRIS PAGE: UGWC’s own, as well as another member of the Fight roster. Sebastian Bryce has been to the top of the mountain and will soon get there again. He’s lighting up the wrestling world, including Pro Wrestling Valor, sorry forgot to mention them moments ago, but I say all that to say that here’s a guy that plenty of federations want him to be a part of. He can write his ticket anywhere, and he trusts me.
Here’s something I’ll never fully comprehend. I’m a self-professed asshole in every sense of the word because I’m the guy that’s going to shoot straight regardless of if you get butt-hurt. After all, facts are facts even if you choose to ignore them. My clients are well aware of who I am, what I’m capable of, what I can do for them, but more importantly at the end of the day that I am what’s best for business. The wealth of knowledge I bring to the table is something that most of you would dare to have shared. Unfortunately, there’s no room under my learning tree for guys that phone it in on a regular.
CHRIS PAGE: I don’t have to do a whole hell of a lot for Sebastian other than be there for him when he needs me.
More on that to come… just not here.
DENZEL PORTER: Another youngster you’ve taken under your wing that started in Fight but has branched out is Ricky Rodriguez.
Chris nods his head at the mention of Ricky’s name.
CHRIS PAGE: A young kid that has nothing, but unlimited potential written all over him. He continues to learn with every outing he has in victory or defeat. He’s got a plethora of top-notch, high-level guys within CCPE to learn this business from. It couldn’t be a better situation for someone like Ricky to be involved with so many Main Event players.
DENZEL PORTER: Mac Bane out of Sin City Wrestling, and current SCW World Heavyweight Champion.
CHRIS PAGE: Another guy that was successful before Chris Page entered his life. Mac has all the talent and ability which he has proven time after time after time as he is carrying SCW on his back but he’s also doing some stuff in the XWF amongst others.
DENZEL PORTER: Who else have you got in the mix out there? One-half of the current XWF World Tag Team Champions.
CHRIS PAGE: Flynn is as dangerous as they come because people tend to sleep on him. He’s recently ventured out to Thunder Pro Wrestling, he’s someone to keep your eyes on.
DENZEL PORTER: Thunder Pro Wrestling, Peter Vaughn is the TPW International Champion.
CHRIS PAGE: Indeed, he is. Peter Vaughn has taken the wrestling world by storm over the last five months. People will knock him for losing titles like they’ve run with three at one time. Fuck man, I can’t even make that claim. He’s doing some stuff in Leveled Up, the XWF, Valor on top of being the first and ONLY TPW International Champion, and let’s not forget that we are currently taking part in the Splat Gemini One Tag Team deal.
I’ve got an all the time in the world for Peter Vaughn. He’s a guy that is hitting his stride and one that takes this job seriously.
DENZEL PORTER: Ah yes, the Gemini One, the senior Debonaire had a lot to say about that.
Chris immediately responds with some sarcasm in the tone of his voice.
CHRIS PAGE: Oh, we’re going to get there, my man, but before we do while we’re on the subject of Thunder Pro Wrestling, I’d like to also point out that Vaughn recently retained the TPW International Title over that bitch ass rook that calls himself Matt Knox. Always a treat to watch that fuck eat his words, but it was through Thunder Pro and seeing the Exiles that I got my first look at what I feel is a tremendously underrated performer in Xavior Lux.
DENZEL PORTER: Xavier doesn’t get a whole lot of attention as he flies under the radar.
CHRIS PAGE: He’s a guy that is on the cusp of breaking through that glass ceiling. He’s had an incredible run over the last several months with impressive performance after performance inside the ropes, which is always a treat. I had a chance in Tokyo back at the XWF’s March Madness to watch Lux versus Mac Bane… dude, talk about an instant classic. I guarantee gold around his waist in some fashion in short order.
Are you starting to see where I’m going with all of this, or do you belong riding on the short bus?
DENZEL PORTER: Elijah Martin is another guy within CCPE, recently lost the Anarchy Championship but had a hell of a run with it.
CHRIS PAGE: Elijah made the Anarchy brand within the XWF his bitch. It’s time for him to move up the ranks. He’s already opened his eyes, now he takes it to the next level. He’s been very impressive in his own right.
DENZEL PORTER: That only leaves one other person.
Chris smirks before he asks.
CHRIS PAGE: Of course, you’re talking about the other half of the IIW Tag Team Champions?
DENZEL PORTER: One Mr. Thaddeus Duke, the first official signing to CCPE.
CHRIS PAGE: When I first started to conceive CCPE, thinking about the various talents out there who would I want to be the cornerstone of the Enterprise Thad’s name was on top of the list. Mutual respect between the two of us after feuding for nearly eight long months has led to the two of us becoming the reigning IIW World Tag Team Champions.
Now is the part you IIW folks should start paying attention to since the groundwork has officially been laid for the present that sees Chris Page and Thaddeus Duke as the reigning, defending, undisputed, unbeaten IIW World Tag Team Champions that has brought more eyes to the promotion, you’re welcome.
Imagine the eyes that you will draw with me as your World Champion.
Follow me and I’ll take you out of one country and take your goddamn global! That’s the kind of drawing power that I bring to the table; not that any of you’d care because let’s face it, regional is more your style anyway.
CHRIS PAGE: You know what Mr. Porter; I don’t need to speak for Thad… He can speak for himself. Yo, Thad!
DENZEL PORTER: Are you telling me that Thaddeus Duke is here with you today?
CHRIS PAGE: I don't know, am I?
There’s applause heard as we cut to the side stage where Thaddeus Duke emerges. He waves to the crowd as Denzel Porter is shocked.
CHRIS PAGE: Expect the unexpected, am I right?
Chris stands as he applauds Thad as does Denzel. Thad reaches the two where a second seat has been brought out. Duke and Page fist bump as Denzel and Thaddeus shake hands. Duke once again waves out to the crowd as he then takes the seat next to Chris Page.
DENZEL PORTER: I wasn’t expecting all of this, but I ain’t mad at it either! Mr. Duke welcome to the show.
Surely you didn’t think I’d roll into a Tag Team Title defense and not work WITH my partner, right? It’s a beautiful thing when you work with people that care as much about the business as I do. Thaddeus is the man that has a plan, and collectively we are going to hold onto these paperweights as long as we choose to because they damn sure aren’t going to be taken away by Dumb and Dumber.
THADDEUS DUKE: Always a pleasure to meet my fans.
CHRIS PAGE: I assume this is the portion where we want to plug IIW because I mean why not?
DENZEL PORTER: The two of you put some light on the English-based promotion by answering an open challenge to face their Tag Team Champions, you beat Team Friendship, and now are going to be defending against a Father/Son team of the Debonairs.
THADDEUS DUKE: First and foremost, the younger Debonair. What’s his name?
CHRIS PAGE: Trevor.
DENZEL PORTER: Tyler.
THADDEUS DUKE: Whatever. Anyway, what the kid needs to do is kick his deadweight dad’s ass to the curb and strike out on his own. I did it. My father was a wrestler too and let me tell you DP… can I call you DP?
DENZEL PORTER: I’d… rather you didn’t.
THADDEUS DUKE: I’m calling you DP. So let me tell you about that big sumbitch that I’m supposed to call “Dad.” See, he felt threatened by me. By my presence. With my star power and DP, he felt himself losing the grip on the legacy he fought so hard to keep. So, every time he felt the heat from the burning star in the center of the Duke universe that is me he had to attempt a comeback. He had to remind all those folks at home just who he was and every time he came back he was just… a little less.
Chris chimes in.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s true.
THADDEUS DUKE: Damn right it is! So rather than allowing him to drag down the legacy of my name, I set out to finish him. We had a match this past January and I tapped him out in the middle of the ring because it needed to be done. I put a death grip on my name, on my legacy and I’m not letting it go. I ended that man’s career because it needed to be done and more importantly… simply… because I could.
CHRIS PAGE: When you sit back and take a good long look at this upcoming Tag Title defense with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Duh is how they think they are some sort of big deal when in reality these are two guys that phone it in the week after week until they come across our paths.
It was good to see young Ty put forth some sort of effort which I can assume that Father Time will do as well. Yet, you played right into my narrative like a fucking fool. Where has all this effort been before now? Maybe if you showed half the fire you “tried” to show you wouldn’t be chasing your tails within this massive business known as Professional Wrestling versus being the bud of the jokes.
CHRIS PAGE: Keep in mind that ole Tyler is the same blithering idiot that when it came to me said what, exactly? Oh yeah, that’s right… nobody cares about my accomplishments. Talk about something that made me roll my eyes. Can anyone in the IIW show any signs of originality or is that a lost art? The reason you don’t care is that you have NOTHING that compares to them thus you retort the road always traveled, considering the sperm you evolved from I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Chris’s eyes shift to Denzel.
CHRIS PAGE: Surely you can see how hard it is to take people like this seriously when they can’t even bring anything new or clever to the table? No wonder the IIW is regional.
Thaddeus chimes in.
THADDEUS DUKE: Oh no, Chris. I got something better.
Thaddeus glares into the camera with intensity in the tone of his voice.
THADDEUS DUKE: They forgot you existed. They forgot you existed!? IIW, the place you call home, forgot you existed, and made you fight for the number one contenders to OUR tag team championships? Must suck to be you. It must suck to go through life when the people that pay you, the people that sign your paychecks forget you exist. I’ve never had that problem Tyler. Everywhere I’ve gone I’ve had all the eyes following me. XWF. OCW. IIW. And not just the wrestling, either.
CHRIS PAGE: To be such afterthoughts doesn’t lend to them as viable opponents if you ask me. Maybe that’s why Team Friendship had such a lengthy run in the first place.
Thad steps in with a smart-ass tone.
THADDEUS DUKE: Catch up, old man.
Chris responds.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s called further laying the story, prick. So, the point I am drawing towards rests within circling back around to the cold, hard fact that NOBODY in the IIW is in the leagues of any member of CCPE.
I hate to break that news to you but the guys within CCPE that would be considered mid-card could walk all over the IIW upper echelon. The fact that you refuse to see that tells me how blinded you all are yet it further explains why we are here, to begin with. The hostile takeover has already begun, it started with beating Team Friendship; something none of you COULD do. Yet you want to try and throw some stones while living in that big ass glass house?
Doesn’t fit the narrative of the real world versus what both of you pricks want everyone to believe. But we get it, guys. We understand that for you this is the single biggest moment that you’ll ever have when it comes to stepping in the ring with REAL talents of this profession, and by real talents, I am referring to people like us that have carved reputations throughout the globe while guys like you can barely scratch the surface.
THADDEUS DUKE: Walk softly and carry a big stick, as they say. Except that’s not my thing. I come in loud, proud, and in your face, whether you like it or not I dare them to try and stop me. They had to fight for the contenders while we… just had to show up. That’s what sets needle movers and earth-shakers like us apart from also-rans like the two of you. Doors are opened and you’re ushered out of the hallway so that guys like us can walk right in and take everything.
Thad looks directly into the camera speaking directly to…
THADDEUS DUKE: Fred… you don’t like my cockiness? You don’t like my arrogance? You don’t like the fact that I exude confidence from every pore in my body? I’ve earned every damn bit of it. From tip to tail what you see before you are a professional wrestling megastar that has beaten a lot of the very best this industry has to offer. So before you drone on and on endlessly, reminding me that I’ve never faced you, I’ll remind you very kindly that IIW does not have the best talent.
Thad pauses for a moment before he continues.
THADDEUS DUKE: Cocky. Arrogant. Confident. I am all of those things and more and I apologize for absolutely none of it. I earned the right to be what I am by beating the best of the best and stealing the show simply because I can. You don’t have to like it, but you do have to accept it. I’d tell you to go ahead and beat it out of me but better men than you have tried and none of them have succeeded. You can both bitch about what kind of tag team we are. You can say whatever it is you want. What matters is that this isn’t our first foray into tag team wrestling. He and I know each other like the backs of our hands and we can only achieve that by beating the absolute hell out of each other time and again.
Chris chimes in.
CHRIS PAGE: Told ya.
Thad continues.
THADDEUS DUKE: What matters is that each time we’ve ever teamed up we’ve gone to the proverbial pay window and unfortunately for you two, neither of you, not separately, not collectively, has what it takes to defeat the two of us. Let me fill you in on something though. It’s not that you have next to no chance to beat us. It’s that you have… no chance at all. You’re in this match because you’re the number one pretender stepping to the front of the line just to get put down and shoved to the back all over again. I hate to be the bearer of bad news fellas, but you’re wasting a monstrous amount of time pretending to be a threat to myself and Chris Page.
Chris starts laughing which draws Denzel’s attention.
DENZEL PORTER: What’s so funny, Chris?
Chris composes himself before he responds.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s funny because it’s true, and to take it a step further when it comes to the father/son combo… one of the only reasons you’re in this position isn’t because you’re good at what you do but because there was ONE show before this Pay-Per-View and both of you mixed with the other two jabroni’s didn’t have shit going on.
It baffles my mind how you two think you’re such a big deal when all evidence points to the contrary. You are fillers put in place for us to shine over. Not that overshadowing either of you is a challenge within any sense of the word because collectively Thad and I are two guys that can give two shits about making YOU look good because for as talented as we are not even WE are miracle workers. You both might be a little butt-hurt that we are carrying the IIW straps but really and truly you should be appreciative of it since our reach has cast some light on this federation since Team Friendship did such a great job of that.
That was called sarcasm.
Listen, I don’t care about your grievances, I don’t care about what you THINK you are going to accomplish because I live in the real world where none of those fucking matters. What’s going to shake down come K.K.N.D. is nothing more than a successful title defense at the expense of you two dumb fucks. But I tell you what, since you want to get upset that we have the IIW straps and aren’t under contract, why don’t I give you a REAL reason to be upset by going ahead and issuing a challenge to WHOEVER leaves with IIW World Title? Boy, that’d burn those butt hairs.
CHRIS PAGE: I think it’s safe to say that we’ve covered IIW business, wouldn’t you say?
THADDEUS DUKE: Am I needed for anything else?
CHRIS PAGE: Nope, you’re good.
There’s another fist bump between Page and Thad as Thad responds.
THADDEUS DUKE: Always a pleasure Chris…
Thad glances toward Denzel.
THADDEUS DUKE: Always a pleasure DP.
The young Thaddeus gets out of his seat and exits the stage to a round of applause from the crowd. This leaves Chris Page and Denzel.
CHRIS PAGE: Thaddeus Duke everybody!
DENZEL PORTER: Chris, man you do have your fingers on the pulse of the wrestling business. What do you see coming next for you? I saw a post saying two new members of CCPE are on the way, can you elaborate on who they are? Or maybe a federation affiliation?
CHRIS PAGE: Ah Mr. Porter, now you know that when I sign talents, I leave the discretion up to them on when they choose to make things public… and no, I won’t be dropping any scoops on today’s program other than you might want to pay attention to the landscapes because they’re all about to shift.
I’ve just begun building my empire with the elite of this profession. The ranks will continue to grow, the success will continue to build, and the fun is going to be had. Keep pretending that my accomplishments mean nothing, keep pretending the groundwork I’ve done over the last nine months building an enterprise from the ground up means nothing while might I suggest you pull your head out of your ass unless like the site of your sphincter.
I mean it is 2022.
CHRIS PAGE: If you don’t believe me, just watch.
DENZEL PORTER: Chris, man I gotta ask you before we close this out… I gotta line on someone that I think you should take a look at. Would you do me that favor?
CHRIS PAGE: Let’s chat off the air.
DENZEL PORTER: Absolutely! Ladies and Gentlemen, the one and only, “CHRONIC” CHRIS PAGE everybody.
There’s applause from the crowd as Chris raises his right hand to acknowledge them.
DENZEL PORTER: We will be right back.
FADE.
____________________
It all comes down to this.
The Semi-Main Event will be looked back on as the show-stealer even if it’s against a couple of scrubs that don’t belong anywhere near pieces of talent like the Lionheart or myself. It’s okay though, I always say you got to make chicken salad out of chicken shit which is exactly what we are here to do.
We don’t care if you don’t like us.
We ain’t here to be liked.
We’re here because the IIW feels the need to cough up a large sum of money to have us show up for their event. As long as they’re paying we’re staying. Deal with it. In the meantime, we understand why everyone is so threatened by our presence in your space because you either adapt or die. Team Friendship was the peak of this division… until we showed up, and with all due respect if they ran for six months we’re running for eternity.
Try as you might, and you too shall fail. This isn’t our end, it’s our beginning.
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Post by Thaddeus Duke on Apr 16, 2022 3:21:31 GMT
Woolworth Tower - Tribeca - New York City
I spend a lot of time with my children. Nothing I do in my life is more important than they are. Nothing is more important than being their father. With the passing of Frankie’s biological father recently, it has only brought me closer to all three of them. It has caused me to rethink some things in my life and has me considering the future.
Not of my wrestling career. That will continue on in all probability.
What I mean is the future of the Illuminatus State. I’m fully aware that those of you inside the “hallowed halls” – and I use that turn of phrase extremely loosely – of IIW have no idea what I’m referring to. While I intend to show you and the IIW viewers very little, if any at all, of that part of my life, I feel it’s important that you know it, all the same.
I’m not just a professional wrestler. So many of the men and women that lace up their boots, they eat, sleep, breathe this industry and I get it. You’ll receive no shame from me. The fact is though, I’m not that guy. Yes, I love it. I’m damn good at it. Putting on classic after classic, winning title after title, beating name after name... makes my dick figuratively hard. Unlike the vast majority of those inside this business though, professional wrestling is just one more thing I do. Leading the Illuminatus State, is another. First and foremost I’ll try to stick to what’s important without droning on and on and boring you to death like a Debonair.
For all intents and purposes, the Illuminatus State is in its death throes. It is a military state without borders entirely governed by monarchy starting with my Grandfather in the 70’s. Slowly but surely he amassed a fortune and hundreds of followers. Through the decades, he acquired more cash, more followers and by the time my Grandfather passed and my father was King, the Illuminatus fortune stood well north of a billion dollars, the population grew to a quarter million fighting men and a very strong military was formed. All with the intent of crushing the Catholic Church.
My grandfather’s lies perpetuated a series of events that I’ve been trying to right since the day I stole my father’s crown. For decades my grandfather spit out lie after lie convincing every single person that ever followed him to believe that the Church had stolen a legacy belonging to the original Illuminatus way back in the first century. The war between the Church and the Illuminatus raged quietly in the shadows until 2015.
After the military acquisition, more lies, more plots, more death lead to an open conflict between our side and theirs. To make things worse, I was just a teenage boy trying to live up to the lofty expectations my grandfather had set for me. He put me at the head of our armed forces and one by one, the dominoes fell. I had a knack for getting people to trust me. I had a natural ability to lead grown men, even at just sixteen years old. Despite my inexperience, I showed a gift in operational tactics and on Christmas Eve, Illuminatus tanks rolled through the city of Rome. At the stroke of midnight beginning Christmas Day, beginning my 17th birthday, the Church surrendered the Vatican to me.
At the time, I was elated to deliver my grandfather's life’s work to him. He would not live to see December 26th. His death and the ascension of my father to the Illuminatus throne, the throne of Saint Peter, ensured that anyone with Duke blood coursing through their veins would always be a target.
My fathers reign as King lasted less than six months. I scared the hell out of him. Not because I’m some huge imposing figure, because I’m not. I’m anything but. Armed with a million dollar smile, a pretty face, and curls that literally have women (and men) throwing their panties at me, it was easy to get people to trust me. I’m not a liar, so I don’t mean that I’d charm people into doing deceitful things. They trusted me, because I’m a trustworthy man. My father viewed me as a threat and he couldn’t have been more correct.
One of his first acts beneath the Illuminatus crown was to remove me from military operations and instead, made me an ambassador. With the war won and the Illuminatus flag flying above Vatican City, he sent me abroad from nation to nation with the intent of turning the world in our favor.
I was good at that too. The world was coming into the fold as friends and allies of the Illuminatus State. The United Nations even recognized us as a legitimate nation due to my efforts. Until ISIS. Yes, that ISIS. I guess having a newly formed nation made us a target and as such, they captured and murdered 13 of our troops out on leave. It enraged my father, and rightfully so. Acting on faulty intelligence that he wasn’t patient enough to confirm, my father bombed what he thought was a warehouse harboring ISIS terrorists in Northern Iraq.
He was wrong.
Had he waited to confirm the intelligence, he might still be King today.
What he bombed was a school killing 268 Iraqi children.
Inexcusable and unforgivable. That act set course to a bloody civil war. With the world community quickly turning against us, my fathers own military chiefs planned a coup that would install me as King, rather than see us all destroyed. Followed closely by what he thought was my security detail, armed to the teeth, we entered the Basilica to confront my father, the King. Unarmed and with no detail of his own anywhere around him, he hesitantly gave up his crown and left the city. Not before vowing to make me earn it.
Split almost in half, Illuminatus forces battled Illuminatus forces. Within a few months, my forces beat him all the way to Paris where he made his last stand. He tried to take his own life instead of surrendering but I didn’t give him the satisfaction. He was taken into custody for war crimes and my crown was secure. At my fathers trial, I let him out of both execution and imprisonment. Instead, I stripped him of his Illuminatus State citizenship, making him just another American civilian. He was to never again have any involvement in Illuminatus affairs as dictated by the government of the United States.
That was a concession on my behalf, because had I not agreed to it, their military would have annihilated ours… eventually. To make things worse, with my crown secure, I set out to discover the truth of what my grandfather always maintained – that the Church had stolen the Illuminatus legacy – only to find out it was all lies. You can ask yourselves how one man can poison the brains of so many people and get them to believe such fallacies, I only point to the modern day American Republican party where they take lessons from Adolf Hitler and the psychological analysis by the Office of Strategic Services of the infamous dictator back in 1943 – Never allow the public to cool off. Never admit a fault or wrong. Never concede that there may be some good in your enemy. Never leave room for alternatives. Never accept blame. Concentrate on one enemy at a time and blame him for everything that goes wrong. People will believe a big lie sooner than a little one, and if you repeat it frequently enough, people will sooner or later believe it.
At the end of the day, I was King of the Illuminatus State, a military state built on lies and I’ve been trying to ‘quit’ ever since. Every time I’ve dealt with an enemy and put dissolution on the table, another enemy pops up and I have to defend my people. As such, my forces have been engaged in a war with an entity known as the Ares Project for the last three years. The end is nigh. Soon, I will have eradicated the final enemy. When the last enemy is defeated, the dissolution of the Illuminatus State begins.
You might question why I’m telling you about it if I’m intending to end it to begin with. The answer is state of mind. I have a singular focus. Annihilate the Ares Project and preserve the lives of my children by dissolving the whole damn thing. Their lives and their safety is what drives me. The only way to ensure they live long, happy and healthy lives is to end the one thing that promises to one day kill every last person with my last name.
Death is certain. None of us can avoid it forever. I’ve never been afraid to die and maybe that’s created this sort of air of invincibility. I don’t think I’m invincible. I’m neither immortal nor do I wish to rush it. Having been shot in the heart and dying once in my lifetime, having survived three plane crashes, I could very easily let it go to my head and think that I’m some Golden God that just can not and will not be killed.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
For the last several months I’ve lived my life fast and loose despite my marriage to Lauren. Near death experiences can change a person.
-I was shot in the heart and was born to live again.
-My fighter jet was shot down over Poland.
-My personal 747, Illuminatus One, was shot down and plunged into Long Island Sound killing everyone on board… except me.
-The new Illuminatus One I crash landed after Frankie and I were hijacked.
It changes you.
Not necessarily for the better.
There was a time that I was pushing everyone away from me that loved me. After all, they’d deal with my demise a lot easier if they hated me rather than loved me, right? An ex-boyfriend, Garrett Wentworth. Mother to my twins, Elizabeth Tate. Ex-girlfriend Adi Gold. My best friend and chosen brother, Corey Smith. That’s just the ones in the public spotlight. There have been several others over the years that no one even knows. Even recently, I found myself trying to sabotage my own marriage in order to save Lauren from the heartache of having to bury her husband. Or at least, that’s how I rationalize it in my head. Honestly, I’ve just been selfish. I know my life can be snuffed out at any time and… I just… started doing whatever and whomever I wanted without really considering the consequences, without considering other people's feelings.
Especially Lauren’s.
Recognizing it is just the first part of the equation. Now, I’m trying to turn the corner. I’m trying to put her in a better position to be a good and committed wife. I’ve not made it easy, previously. Over our first couple months together I set her up to fail as my wife… and she just wouldn’t do it. It took a lot of fights, it took a lot of introspection for me to see what was up and what was down. I realized just how much I love her. I realized I want this marriage to succeed. In order for that to happen, I resolved to be a better husband, a better man.
We both have very strong personalities so the fights still crop up, but they’re not very serious. They’re also fewer and further between.
Thaddeus Duke || Lauren 'Sahara' Duke || Frankie Duke || 'Chronic' Chris Page Dressed in our ring gear and drenched with sweat, our chests heaving as we try to catch our breath, Lauren and I come to stop in the middle of the ring in our home gym.
“That was intense,” she says through panting as she steps toward me and gives me a kiss.
“If you think that was intense,” I joke with a smile, the insinuation very much obvious.
“AHHHHHHHHHH!” yells Frankie, my adopted 11 year old son as he flies off the top rope. I almost didn’t see him and quickly turned to catch his flying cross body block. Like a good dad, I fell to the mat with him on top of me. Lauren hits the mat to count.
“1!
“2!
“3! Frankie Duke wins again!” Lauren cries out as Frankie jumps to his feet in the ring. Pretending to be exhausted and out of breath, he limps toward the corner where he picks up my tag belt and climbs the turnbuckles to celebrate.
Getting to my feet, I join him in the corner.
“Frankie, you’ve just won the biggest match of your life, how do you feel?” I ask him, pretending to hold a microphone.
“Thaddeus Duke is a great competitor,” he begins. “But I’ve literally beat him in this ring like a hundred times and I’ve won every title he’s ever won,” he continues on, causing me to chuckle.
“And each and every one of those victories are just as legitimate as Gemini One,” I joke back.
“Fact is Jerry,” that’s what he calls me during the ‘post match victories’. “I feel like a billion dollars,” he says with a knowing smile. “Nobody beats Thad like I do and every time it feels just a little better than the last!”
“Know what Frankie?” I say to him as his father and not Jerry the interview guy. “You’re only 11 and all those people mark out like crazy for you.”
“Marks gonna mark man,” he says coolly.
“I’mma just cut to it, buddy. Do you have dreams of doing this for real some day?” I ask him as he turns around and sits on the top turnbuckle.
“I don’t know,” he answers with a raised eyebrow. “I have a lot of fun but…” his voice trails off.
“But what?”
“I saw what it did to you and your dad,” he continues on, causing me to sigh.
“Wrestling was never a cause of any of our problems Frankie,” I begin to explain to him. “It was just another symptom.”
“If I did want to be a wrestler, would you train me?” he asks and I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of seven years ago when I asked my dad to train me. Except, as I explained earlier, my father always felt threatened by me and initially refused. He only agreed because he watched me damn near break my best friend's neck.
“I would absolutely train you,” I answered him. “But if you’ll take a word of advice early, don’t go to the XWF.”
“Why not?”
“Because even if you are one day better than me you’ll never earn the right to go into the Hall of Legends,” I remind him. Stupid Legacy rule. My average at best father that protected himself for the vast majority of his career has locked me out of attaining the same prestige in the only real home I’ve ever known.
“What if I don’t care about the Hall?”
“Then why do you want to do it?” I ask him and he falls silent. “Frankie, if you’re not aiming to be one of the best ever, then there’s no point in it. You’ll make an okay living. You’ll be famous and successful, but if you can’t attain the very pinnacle of your profession, then what are you even doing?”
“Do you regret staying in the XWF?” he asks and this time I fall quiet for a minute. “You’ve spent most of your career there. You’ve won all their stuff. But you can’t get in the Hall so like… do you ever regret just staying there and not starting your career somewhere else?”
“Not really,” I answered him as honestly as possible. “Part of the reason I signed with them and kept re-signing is so that I could show them the mistake they made by putting my dad in the Hall. I’m better than he ever was. I know it, and now everyone else does too.
“Now that I’ve taken his legacy and made it mine, I want to expand it elsewhere.”
He looks at the tag strap he has clenched in his fist.
“First was OCW, and now IIW.”
“So… you’re looking for a new beginning?” he asks. To which I nod my head. “I have a question though. If they’re Intense International Wrestling… then how come they never leave England?”
“Ha!” I laugh aloud with the boy. “Maybe they don’t know what ‘International’ means.”
“And they say the American school system is screwed,” he jokes… sorta.
“You wanna come to Gemini with us?” I ask my closest little buddy.
“Ehhhhh,” he answers without really answering.
“What’s wrong?” I ask of him as I relieve him of the tag title, laying it down on the apron.
“Nothing,” he answers while climbing and trying to stand on the top rope. “How the hell do you do this all the time?” he asks as he tries to maintain his balance, nearly spilling to the outside multiple times.
“A lot of training,” I answered his inquiry. “Plus it helps that I’m a naturally gifted athlete. If you try to stand there with your knees locked, you’ll fall at the slightest shake. You gotta keep a little give in ‘em. Like shock absorbers on your dirt bike.
“Gotta balance your weight, too.”
“Okay, let me try,” he says as he slowly stands up on the top rope. Just like I warned him not to do, he locks his knees anyway as he tries to balance his frame. Gently, I shake the rope and he just about spills off the side causing him to yelp out. He’s my boy though. Not a chance in hell I’mma let him get hurt, so I catch him and place him back up top.
“Maaan, I can’t get it,” he says aloud, more to himself than to me.
“Spread your legs a little,” I advise him. “You got ‘em right next to each other. That changes your center of gravity.”
He tries, but fails to spread them apart. Frankie is too concerned with falling to trust himself.
“Put your hand on me,” I say to him as I step in front of him. After doing as I tell him, I spread his feet apart for him. As I back off, Lauren, quiet and watching through all of this, drags the crash mat from the other side of the ring to near Frankie’s corner.
“Now stand boy,” I tell him, adopting a fake supervillain voice. He smiles and with his legs a little shaky, he stands up, but this time doesn’t lock his knees. “You lock your knees again, you’re gonna fall at the slightest bounce of the ropes.”
“Okay,” he replies. “Shake them a little bit. But don’t grab me if I fall.”
“You sure?” I ask him with a smile.
“Hell yeah I’m sure,” he insists.
Inside, I beam with pride. He’s 11 and I’m 23 so obviously he’s not mine by blood. But he is 100% mine in spirit and in every other conceivable way. Like his adoptive father, he has this unrelenting determination and a will to succeed.
As he requested, I shake the ropes gently. He starts to topple but flails his arms and keeps his balance.
“Harder,” he requests. I look at him with a smile but entirely full of doubt. “Don’t look at me like that, do it!”
God I love it. As he requests, I shake the ropes harder and harder and he nearly loses his balance several times. Without grabbing onto me or his step mother, he rights himself quicker and quicker each time.
“Okay okay,” he says with a laugh and I slow the shaking ropes down.
“Alright!” I yell out and reach my hand up. He high fives me but I keep his little hand clenched in my own.
“Not agaaain,” he cries out as I lift him off the top rope and toss him across the ring onto the crash mat. He lands with a ‘thwap’ as he sinks into the mat. “I hate when you do that,” he says from his comfortable position inside the mat.
“No you don’t,” I reply to him with a laugh.
“Yeah,” he smiles. “You’re right.”
One hopping myself to the top turnbuckle, I tight rope run the top rope and leap into the air.
“OH MY GOD THAD!” he shouts out but too late, as I back flip in mid air and crash down on him with a shooting star press as he was trying to climb out of the crash mat to avoid his ‘doom.’ There was no real contact, but my body weight pins him to the crash mat with his face smashed against the edge of it. “I do hate ven you do dat doe.”
“You never answered me,” I remind him. “You comin’ to Gemini with us or are you staying home?”
“Tad I really can’t move my vace,” he pleas with me. I lean off him a little so he can move and he squirts out to the ring mat. “It’s fake.”
“Hmmm,” I grunt.
“It’s like…” I can see the figurative wheels turning in his brain as he looks up at the lights to find the right words. “I don’t know what.”
“It bores you,” I suggest.
“Yes! To like the highest degree!” he yells out. “You’re not really winning or losing anything. It’s all an act and it’s stupid.”
He makes me laugh a little.
“Like some dude just comes in your locker room before the match and tells you whether you win or lose and how you win or lose. I don’t get it.”
“Frankie, you’re 11 years old and you understand that better than some grown ass men that are old enough to be my father,” I joke with him… but not really. “Yeah, it’s an act. It’s a show. Outcomes are scripted, sure. But between the bells, that shit still hurts. Plus, telling the men and women that do that sort of stuff regularly that it's fake is like… a big time no-no.” I try to explain to him. “It’s really disrespectful. They’re still putting their body at risk for the fans' enjoyment.
“And after Gemini, you’ll come with me to Manchester too for IIW. And to Vegas for Warfare.”
“At least that’s not fake,” he laughs. “If its fake…”
“Scripted,” I correct him. “You have a role in ‘My Undead Detective.’ That’s fake. It’s scripted television. Does it make it less enjoyable to the fans of your show when they know that it's scripted?”
“I guess not.”
“We’re doing Gemini because someone thought it’d be a good idea, and it's a fun time,” I try to explain.
“Finnnne, I’ll go,” he finally relents, albeit reluctantly.
Looking across the ring at Lauren. “Then it’s a date with two of my favorite people.”
BACKSTAGE AT GEMINI ONE TOURNAMENT FOR SPLAT TV For what it’s worth, the Gemini One tournament isn’t entirely without value. While there’s no real wins or losses and everything is scripted and predetermined, the fans are still into it. They have a good time watching quality professional wrestlers from all walks of life from all different genres within the industry mix it up in the ring where in all likelihood, due to the nature of the business, those professional athletes would not have a chance to hook up otherwise. That’s the real draw for a guy like me and I’d imagine, many others.
“Can’t wait to lose again,” Lauren mocks as we walk into our locker room.
“You signed up for it,” Frankie chimes in. “Idiots.”
“Relax,” I laugh it off. “It’ll all be over in a couple weeks and we can just refocus on the legit stuff.”
No sooner do I toss my bag in a corner and a knock comes at our door. A second later, my agent and IIW tag team partner Chris Page enters.
“The King and Queen of New York City!” he yells out exuberantly.
“And the Prince too,” Frankie chimes in as he kicks his feet up and starts playing his game.
“Forgive me young Francis,” Page fakes a curtsy.
“Chris,” I say to him and he looks me in the eye with his sideways smile and steps almost face to face with me.
“Thad,” he replies.
“Promo time,” I say to him and we both look at the camera lookin’ at us.
“Oh, well why didn’t you say so!” Chris turns towards the camera as he starts spouting out. “We are here live at the Splat Gemini One Tag Team Extravaganza where Chris Page and Peter Vaughn have racked up eight points…”
“Not that promo! IIW.”
“Oh.
“It’s not a big secret that Chris is a man of MANY words when it comes to dealing with the bottom feeders of professional wrestling in the case of the Debonair’s.
“Where should we start? How about the one sides predictions some poser that claims to be an insider to the business put out? You know, the one that says we’re predicted to lose our titles.”
“Come on Chris, I thought you would challenge me as opposed to throwing me a softball to start it off with. I mean, of course they predicted their own to shock the world and defeat us; but as we’re already shown the peeps within the IIW aren’t the sharpest knives in the draws.
“Hell, Frankie could’ve tackled that one by himself."
“He’s right,” Frankie calls out without even looking at us. “I could out talk both Debonair’s and their daddies too.”
“I know! I mean any promotion that thinks Jonny is a top draw makes me question more than just the intelligence of it all."
“This is the minor leagues, Chris.”
“Oh yeah, forgot for a minute.”
“It’s okay. I’ll always remind you. Besides, if I choose to sign that full time contract offer… it won’t be the minor leagues for long. Thaddeus Duke on the card on the regular? Floodgates will open.
“And I can see it now. Those minnows thinkin’ they’re the big fish in the pond right now, they’ll be begging to get back to the days before Thaddeus ruined their status and they all crashed to the bottom of the card where they all truly belong. They've been ridin’ around all this time in a rusted out Pontiac thinkin’ it’s a Bentley.
“I’m the Bentley.
“I’m a well-oiled, finely tuned professional wrestling heat magnet… and they don’t even know it yet because I’ve quite honestly been on cruise control for six months. It’ll be OCW all over again. Thad walks in, the flood gates open because unlike these fools, my name is actually worth something in the shoot wrestling business, and they all quietly cry and cry to the man in the high tower to void my contract and close the gates.”
“Where’s ole Freddy? Why so quiet over the last week or so? Ah, you probably haven’t pulled your head out of your ass yet after being made to look like the fool that you truly are. Do you want to hear a fun fact, Thad?”
“I’m always down for a fun fact of the day.”
“Pops is busy trying to figure out how to save face when there’s not a way he can do it. Tyler, I mean this in the nicest possible way; but you can fuck off three ways from Sunday? When you try to assassinate someone you at least have to load your chamber with live rounds versus the blanks you started to fire.
“The reason guys like us are more successful than guys like you is so much more than sheer ability alone. It’s because we embody what this sport is all about, it’s because we don’t live under labels… we conquer the world.”
“We understand that fact might be to difficult for you to comprehend based on what you’ve already had to say but at the end of the day when the smoke clears and the dust settles you will be left with the bitter taste of disappointment while we will continue to thrive, we will continue to grow, we will continue to take the wrestling world by its balls… and you’ll do what, exactly?
“You’ll draw your head back into your shell while making every excuse in the world for being a damn failure.”
There’s a smirk from Chris before he states. “In all seriousness, Freddy… Listen, we know that here in the minor leagues of IIQ…”
Thad quickly corrects. “W.”
Chris responds in kind. “Always looking out.”
“Duuuuuhhh.”
“We know that here in the minor leagues of IIW that maybe, just maybe your name might mean something. You don’t take kindly to strangers walking into your house, walking into your kitchen, opening that fridge, and helping themselves to your last two brewski’s. It’s a bitter pill to swallow knowing that the brass behind the scenes do not have the faith in any of you to bring their business to the next level."
“He’s blinded by his own insecurities.”
“Maybe they should direct their hostilities where they belong, and thank us for doing them the favor because we all know this is the first time Fred or the IIW has had this kind of REAL mainstream exposure."
“What can I say? I have a far reach and a voice people listen to when it’s heard. Voice of an angel, even.”
“Indeed you do.”
“Fredward, I’m the guy that’s gonna slap the dentures out of your mouth while sending you back to whichever senior housing will take you. You’re gonna look awfully funny sucking some d— without any teeth. To the recipient, you’re welcome.”
“We’ve got them nailed individually, we’ve got them nailed collectively. At what point does everyone wake up and smell the roses? At what point do you concede that CCPE is greater than any combination of Debonair’s? Greater than any combination in the world, for that matter? Fuck, I could stand on the apron and let Thad pick you both apart without him breaking a sweat.”
“I really… really could. This is your last glimmer of hope, Fred. You might look like Chris Page, you might try to emulate Chris Page, but understand this… you’ll never be Chris Page.”
Chris glances over at Thad. “Nicely done.”
Thad glances at Page. “Yes, I know.”
Both redirect towards the camera. “As far as the lesser Debonair is concerned… I hate to be the guy to break it to you, but you stand zero chance within this entire equation. Your old man isn’t as deep rooted as he wants to think he is, and he’s played you like a fool… his own son. He’s led you down this road under the false pretense that HE can help you along in this business, only he’s led you straight to slaughter, good little sheep. I wish I could take pity on you but you had a choice.”
“People are defined by the choices they make, Tyler. You might not want to give us the credit we deserve, and that’s fine. We’ll just take it in the form of leaving you and your daddy broken in the center of that ring like the broken records you’ve both proven yourselves to be. Page and I aren’t rookies. We know that we have targets on our back but unlike you… we enjoy them.”
Chris chimes in. “The bigger the target the better.”
Thad takes back over. “Damn right! We enjoy those targets while most avoid them because with them comes a lot of guys like you; guys that truly believe in their heart of hearts that they are something special, that they will slay the dragons only to find themselves nothing more than an appetizer. You had the choice of walking away, now we choose to make you regret that you didn’t.”
“The world is a funny place. It can gift you opportunities at every turn if you’re woke and paying attention. This is the opportunity for you two to stand in the ring with THE best of the best. It’s one thing to say the words, it's another thing to go out on a weekly basis across multiple platforms and prove it. You boys don’t scare anybody and you certainly don’t threaten our run as IIW Tag Champions. It doesn’t get any higher profile right now, or in the foreseeable future for either of you… Tell me I’m wrong.”
Chris winks at the camera.
“Y’all in IIW remember, it’s you that called us the Outsiders? If anything, we’re the ultimate insiders. I’d say don’t choke, boys, but…”
“That ship has already sailed,” Frankie chimes in as the scene fades.
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Post by Devlin Knight. on Apr 16, 2022 19:30:14 GMT
The Television set comes to life, with white noise and static. Suddenly a picture appears depicting Fred Debonair of over a decade ago…
This is a man who had, by this point in his career, had so many highs. He had won title after title, accolade after accolade and had a reputation that carried far beyond the reaches of most in the Wrestling industry… But he also bore the weight of a thousand lows. His personal life was in turmoil and things just weren’t great at home. What we see next is a videotaped interview conducted by Doctor Richard Bracewell of the Resnick Psychiatric facility, with Fred Debonair regarding his son, Tyler… Ten years old.
We find ourselves inside Doctor Bracewell’s office as the image on the screen suddenly changes. Fred is sat on a black leather couch dressed in black jeans, white polo neck and black loafers whilst Doctor Bracewell is on a chair opposite him in a suit. It is two thousand and eight and he has just won the FcW Extreme Championship as well as being the winner of the FcW Seven Deadly Sins match, which then enabled him to take a guaranteed slot in the Fearless Match against John Cavanagh and Amber Raines which he subsequently won.
Essentially the life of Fred Debonair “The Original” was going great but outside of the ring… For Fred Debonair the man, the father, husband, things were less than good especially through the behaviour of his son... Writing on a notepad, Doctor Bracewell looks up at Fred who is looking out of the window.
Dr. Bracewell: ”So, Fred. I hear congratulations are in order? Another belt to your collection I’ve seen?”
Fred: ”Oh yeah, Doc… That was an amazing night! Couldn’t believe I’d come away with the win, second belt in the space of four months and in line to pick up Wrestler of the year as well as match of the year.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”So why have you come to me today, Fred? You seem quite deflated…”
Fred: ”It’s Tyler again, Doc… I’m not sure what’s going on with him, his personality seems to be changing continuously, he’s in his own little bubble all the time and he got into some trouble at school again.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”Let me just ask, Fred. When did you and your family move to Los Angeles? You were originally in New York, correct?”
Fred: ”That’s right and it was about six to eight months ago now.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”And he’s getting into trouble in school? With the other kids? Teachers?”
Fred: ”Well both but most recently with the Principle.”
Doctor Bracewell writes a little more on his notepad, as Fred stands up to get a better look outside the window.
Dr. Bracewell: ”So, what was the issue with the Principle?”
Fred: ”He got in trouble for taking and dissecting an animal…”
Dr. Bracewell: ”But surely, all kids are dissecting things in school these days?”
Fred: ”Are all kids bringing stray cats into school and dissecting them, in the playground?”
Dr. Bracewell: ”Ahh, I see… (turns sheepish as he writes in his pad again) Has he explained why he did this?”
Fred: ”I tried to talk to him Doc, he says he was given the task… But is adamant the cat was already dead and that it was no longer suffering…”
Dr. Bracewell: ”And do we know if the cat was dead or had been sick?”
Fred: ”There had been a very sick cat that lived near his school, to be honest, but I’m not sure if it’s the same one…”
Dr. Bracewell: ”Has anything happened since?”
Fred: ”Since the cat dissection? No, nothing.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”What about, at home? All okay there?”
Fred: ”Angeline and I are okay, but there’s strains I’m not going to lie. What with Mercedes and now Tyler beginning to act the way he is… (He sighs, stepping away from the window) I’m not too sure how much longer we can hold on like this, Doc.”
Dr. Bracewell: Ok… Well there is one thing we can discuss, but I think Tyler may be a bit young right now.”
Fred: ”Doc, anything you feel can help us, help Tyler… I’ll give it a go.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”Fred, I must warn you… It involves monitoring Tyler for a prolonged period… In fact it would be quite a few years, until he reaches eighteen.”
Fred raises an eyebrow and sits back on the couch, more at the edge this time though.
Fred: ”But Doc, he’s only ten right now. You’d want to monitor him for eight years before making any diagnoses?”
Dr. Bracewell: A decision, Fred. It’s not so much a diagnoses. That’ll come later… But yes, we would monitor him until he turns eighteen, then decide.”
Fred: ”And what if I, we, don’t wanna do that for eight years? Can we… I dunno, watch him at home and if we decide the intervention is required, come back to you?”
Dr. Bracewell: ”Of course, Fred. He will still have his regular sessions with me. But if anything happens outside of what we’ve been talking about or, it gets progressively worse… (He looks seriously at Fred) we start the process.”
Fred: ”Okay… I think (he sits there contemplating) Yes, yeah we can do that.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”Okay good, let’s get the ball rolling and we can see how that plays out. Fred I’m certain this is just a phase with Tyler, family distortions can often cause dissociative episodes among children but a lot of the time… As they reach their teens, they generally phase out of that fixture in their lives.”
Fred: ”I sure as hell hope so Doc… I really do.”
Dr. Bracewell: ”You’ve got my number, Fred and I’ve got yours. So just get back home to your family, don’t fret about this and just keep an eye on Tyler for the time being.”
Fred and Doctor Bracewell both stand and shake hands as the image becomes distorted and tracks back into static white noise…
Present day: Tuesday, April 12th, 2022 - 11:00… Somewhere on the M6 Motorway.
Fred Debonair is in his Nissan Skyline headed south. His radio is playing but it’s very low as he has his cell set up to call someone. The phone rings several times before sounding like it’s been answered.
Voice: ”Hey this is Tyler… I’m not available right now. Please leave your name, number and what’s up and I’ll get back to you when I can.”
Fred sighs and shakes his head as the beep sounds.
Fred: ”Tyler c’mon this is silly man… There’s nothing I haven’t told you. But if you actually picked up your phone or came to see me, I’d be able to explain everything about that time and we could just drop it all. I’m headed to Birmingham to help your Aunt Casie out. Call me.”
He hangs up the phone and sees a sign for Motorway Services. Suddenly his phone rings, he clicks the green button and activated the in-car speaker.
Fred: ”Tyler??”
Abe: ”No chap, it’s me. Have you still not spoken to him yet?”
Fred: ”Nope, he’s refusing to answer my calls, I’ve even hit him up on that bird app and no reply.”
Abe: ”Is he at home?”
Fred: ”Wasn’t there when I went around. I’ll speak to Steph tonight at the arena…”
Abe: ”Speaking of, are you on the road now?”
Fred: ”Sure am, not too far from services. What about you??”
Abe: ”Oh I’m already in the city, what services are you stopping at?”
Fred: ”I’m thinking Hilton Park…?”
Abe: ”Oh mate, you don’t want to go there! I mean it’s not bad, but Corley would be better for you… Closer to the NEC as well.”
Fred: ”Okay, I’ll give it a shot. I’m just wanting to eat man. Need to keep my energy levels up, with a week until the Pay-Per-View.”
Abe: ”Speaking of, did you know those two were on that Denzel Porter’s show?”
Fred: ”So I’ve heard, haven’t bothered to check it yet but hey, it is what it is…”
Abe: ”You want me to call Howie up?”
Fred changes lanes and glares at a driver that almost cut him up. The passenger of the other car sticks up his middle finger, until he sees who’s driving and suddenly drops his hand and stares forward. Fred chuckles to himself and shakes his head.
Fred: ”I’ve been doing this gig for close to twenty five years now, Abe. In that time I’ve been on Stern’s show about three times, I’ve done Larry, Conan, Letterman, Kimmel, Leno, Trevor Noah, Fallon, Graham Norton and Jonathan Ross out here in the UK and even Ellen… Never got around to Cordan but that’s another story… And you know what I’ve learned about being on those shows?”
Abe: ”That unless you’ve got someone in your corner, the money they offer you is absolute garbage?”
Fred: ”Well yeah, but besides that… It’s that it makes absolutely no difference to the outcome of the match you’re about to take part in! I mean sure you can promote said match, yes you can make more people aware of said match… But it literally makes not one lick of difference in what’s going to happen when I meet CCPE in the middle of the ring at KKND. So nah, let’s not call Howard, leave them to chat to Denzel and I’ll leave my actions doing the talking Sunday.”
Suddenly Fred notices another call coming in, on his phone.
Fred: ”Abe, gotta run, Casie’s calling. See you soon!” (switches over calls) Sister, dear sister…”
Casie: ”Hey! You on your way or what?”
Fred: ”Nice to hear from you too! Yes I’m on the way, I’ll be hitting Corley Services shortly then I’ll be a little over ten miles out.”
Casie: ”Okay good, I’ve got something for you to do before you look through this stuff from Benson.”
Fred: ”I’m not grabbing you milk and bacon from the superstore for you…”
Casie: ”That wasnt what I was going to say actually, you big oaf! You need to call Tyler!”
Fred: ”I’ve been trying, Cas! I’ve hit him up on Twitter, I’ve called him and I’ve even been around his apartment…”
Casie: And you’ve had next to nothing in response?”
Fred: ”Not next to nothing, Cas’ literally nothing.”
Casie: ”Man, he really has taken this whole thing badly hasn’t he?”
Fred: ”What the hell was there to take badly, though? Mercedes has opened her mouth again and although she probably didn’t mean anything this time, she has given him out of context information and like he ALWAYS does, he’s flown off the deep end and blown a gasket!”
Casie: ”Alright, look get here as soon as you can and then we can work this out, Abe just turned up outside… You and Tyler have got a huge match ahead of you against CCPE, you don’t need to be at each other’s throats going into that match.”
Fred: ”If anyone is at a throat, it’s Ty, but we’ll work it out don’t worry. I’ll see you in a little while…”
Fred hangs up the phone and turns up his radio as “Carry on my Wayward Son” by Kansas begins to blast through his speakers and he speeds off the Motorway, toward the Services…
The screen comes to life again, the white noise and static distorts into another image…
Yet more gold and accolades for the man, who at this juncture in his career was going by no monicker, just his own name… For now these would be the final pieces for his case at home. Four years had passed since we last saw him speaking with the Doctor at Resnick and things had taken a turn for the better, but as we open up on some home style archive footage of a docuseries made to follow the Debonair family through Wrestling, training and home life in two-thousand twelve, things hadn’t fared much better on the situation with Tyler.
At “The Courthouse” training academy, Fred is watching two of his students combating in the middle of the ring, documenting their form and making notes on who he feels he’ll be pushing for big promotions down the line… The next two in are “Marc Twoo” (pronounced Mark II) and “Fly-High Ty” (Fred’s fourteen year old son, who’s been training close to a year now to keep him focused and out of trouble). Fred is watching both guys carefully and pumps a fist when Tyler leapfrogs his opponent and catches him with a hip-toss before skimming around Marc and catching him with a sleeper hold.
Fred watches as Tyler’s eyes begin to glaze over as he puts pressure on Marc’s neck and specifically his windpipe, the move is wrong. He sees Marc tap and can see his eyes bulging…
Fred: ”Tyler… Ty he’s tapping! And your arm is too deep in, raise it slightly… Tyler?!”
Fred jumps up onto the apron and climbs into the ring, dropping down in front of Tyler and locking eye contact with him. Tyler suddenly takes a gasp of breath, letting Marc go who follows suit with a gasp of breath of his own. Marc Twoo scrambles away from Tyler and spins around looking at him.
Tyler: ”Ahh… Ah shoot I’m really sorry! Marc, dad… Sorry… I…
Fred: ”You should go to the office, cool off… (he turns to Marc) Are you ok?”
Fred helps Marc to his feet, taking him to another student and instructing they get him some water, as Tyler storms off to the office. Fred walks in behind him and shuts the door.
Fred: ”It happened again, didn’t it?”
Tyler: ”Yeah, but it’s not my fault…”
Fred: ”Tyler… (he sighs and sits next to Tyler) It’s never your fault… Son you’re fourteen. You need to start taking responsibility for your actions.”
Tyler: ”But Pops I swear it’s not my fault this time…”
Fred: ”Tyler, you shouldn’t even be here right now! You’re too young to be here but your mom and I figured this would be good for you… But now…”
Tyler: ”Then tell that to your coach who was telling me where to place my arm then!”
Fred’s head snaps in Tyler’s direction and he raises his eyebrows looking at his son, with extreme concern and curiosity.
Fred: ”Who? Ty, I’m the only one coaching you know that… What was this person saying to you?”
Tyler: ”He told me I had my arm too high! Told me to pull back and then, then I don’t know what happened! You were standing in front of me…”
Fred: ”Ok son… This isn’t the first time you’ve seen him though, is it?”
Tyler: ”No sir… How did you know that?”
Fred: ”Just the way you reacted when telling me the story, have you seen him outside training? (He watched Tyler nod) At our house??”
Tyler: ”Yeah, but Pop I’ve seen him in a… Here! Right here!”
Tyler points to a photograph situated on a collage on the wall of the office. Chills completely cover Fred from head to toe. The photo Tyler is pointing at, shows Fred laughing presumably backstage at an event, with a man dressed from head to toe in black, his face painted black and white and his hair tied back…
Tyler: ”But he, he wasn’t wearing face paint he was… Yeah, yeah this is him.”
Tyler points to another photograph, this one is of the man on his own, sans face paint… And this photo, isn’t in the collage, instead it too sits alone, in a frame, on Fred’s desk… And this solidifies it. Tyler Debonair was seeing and receiving bad advice from his own uncle, Fred’s brother, “The Curse” Pacey Debonair… But why? Why would Pacey do this, to his own nephew? It made no sense. Fred decided there and then, to contact Dr. Bracewell…
Present day: Thursday, April 14th, 2022 - 18:00 EST… Wenwen Restaurant in Brooklyn, New York.
The man isn’t difficult to spot, dressed in black suit pants, shoes, and a blazer with white vest underneath it. His shades rest on the table as he tucks into a dish of braised pork belly and cuttlefish… Tyler leans forward as he reaches for his glass of water, taking a sip as the waitress approaches him…
Waitress: ”Mr. Debonair? Your guest is here…”
Tyler: ”Thank you, Chia-Wei, send him through…
The waitress, Chia-Wei, bows toward Tyler and leaves the room. Tyler takes another mouthful of his pork belly and cuttlefish before the man approaches the table. Tyler takes another sip of his water and stands as Asher Greenberg, son of Abe and head of the Greenberg crime family in NYC, holds out his hand for a shake. Tyler raises an eyebrow and pulls Asher in and the two hug it out laughing. Asher asks Chia-Wei for a bottle of Bud, “no food though thanks”, and the two men sit.
Tyler: ”C’mon man if two guys who were almost brothers in-law can’t hug, who can??”
Asher: ”Hah! True… Listen, speaking of that. How is your sister?”
Tyler: ”Well, she doesn’t seem as crazy anymore if that’s what you’re asking…? Though she is the root cause of all this going on right now.”
Asher: ”So you said on the phone, you know I’m flying to England in a few days right? You really didn’t have to come all the way out here.”
Tyler: ”Eh, I needed to get away from it all, Ash… I still can’t believe what I’ve heard these past few days. Look, you and I have been friends for quite some time, even before I went to Resnick… What’s your take in all this?”
Asher: ”You really want to know, man?”
Tyler: ”One hundred percent. I came here to clear my head, but I also knew you’d give me a straight answer hoss…”
The waitress brings over Asher’s Bud and sets it on the table. He contemplates pouring it into the glass that came with it, but opts not to as he necks it back, popping the glass bottle now just over half full, back on the table. He sighs and leans in to Tyler as he watches him eating his pork belly main.
Asher: ”I think you’re not thinking logically and you’re allowing past scenarios to dictate what’s going on here.”
Tyler: ”Wait, what? (he almost chokes on his water) You seriously think that?”
Asher: ”Very much so, my friend… Look, I was there when you first went to the Psych and believe me, they wanted to explain to you that the place was in your best interest but honestly? They didn’t need to.”
Tyler: ”Elaborate?”
Asher: ”You already know what I’m about to say, Tyler… You were convinced, you were meant to be there. Your dad even tried to tell them it wasn’t the time, you were going back home with him… You didn’t want to.”
Tyler finishes the last of his meal, asking Chia-Wei for the bill and downs the last of the water, as Asher finishes his bottle. Tyler leans back and thinks for a moment before he turns back to Asher.
Tyler: ”You’re serious aren’t you? Damn… But still he was in the wrong, it doesn’t matter if I genuinely felt that I belonged there or not, Fred should have told me what was going on.”
Asher: ”That’s what you’re going with now eh? You’re not even calling him “pops” anymore? And tell me something, junior… IF they’d have told you, that you in fact didn’t belong there, would you have believed them?”
Tyler: ”Of course I would have! (he thinks for a moment) Maybe… Okay probably not!”
Tyler shakes his head and sighs, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands as Asher just shrugs and smiles a little. He takes the bill from Chia-Wei and drops a handful of notes, then he and Asher stand and make their way out of Wenwen.
That static, white noise distortion returns as the set in front of you sparks to life once again and along with it, another image…
The year is now two thousand fourteen and Fred Debonair hasn’t actively wrestled on much more than charity shows and small house events. He was still however doing autograph sessions as well as churning out the crème de la crème of Wrestling excellence at his Academy, “The Courthouse” including his own son and daughter who are doing exceptionally well… Everything on the Wrestling front, is bliss.
As always though, everything else is far from it. Home life is at an all time high in terms of the temperature gauge and as Fred walks through the door of his Los Angeles home, he spots two suitcases by the door and can hear his wife, Angeline Schüller also known as Dark Angel in the wrestling world, upstairs in the bedroom.
Fred: ”Erm, what’s going on?”
Angeline: ”You weren’t supposed to be home yet… Sorry.”
Fred: ”Sorry? You’re about to walk out on our marriage of fifteen years and we’re going to do it while I wasn’t home… And you’re “sorry” Ang? Where are Mercedes and Tyler?”
Angeline: ”Mercedes is with Casie and Tyler is at a friends, they’ll both be back for dinner. I’m going to stay at my parents in Glendale…”
Fred throws his arms in the air and huffs, he walks around to face Angeline and shakes his head.
Fred: ”I don’t get it though?! I know Tyler has been a struggle and I know it’s caused some tension between us, but c’mon Angeline we’re better than this!”
Angeline: ”It isn’t just Tyler though, Fred. Of course his situation hasn’t helped us but come on, you know things have been tense for a while.”
Fred: ”Not really...? Look Doctor Bracewell said this may take some time, why are you completely against trying to make this work?!”
Angeline: ”I’m not, Fred but you’ve got to understand—“
Fred: ”Understand what, Ang? I mean Mercedes needs as much help as Tyler, she isn’t even your own daughter and yet you seem to tolerate her more than Tyler?! Your own blood?!”
Angeline just stares off into the distance, as if Fred wasn’t there. He’d seen this blankness before, but right now all that mattered was that his wife was walking out on him, walking out on the family… Suddenly a car honks in the driveway which seems to shake Angeline awake. She picks up the bags that are left on the bed and begins to head out of the door, but stops right in front of Fred.
Angeline: ”That’s my can… I’ve got pretty much all my stuff, but I’ll come and get what is left, at the weekend. And Fred I really am sorry…”
She kisses Fred on the forehead, wipes his cheek and leaves the room and him standing there just staring toward the window.
Having to tell Tyler and Mercedes that their mom had left that night wasn’t the hardest part of it all… It was having to assure and reassure both of them that it was nothing to do with either of them and as much as that had partially been a lie and that Tyler at least would never believe it, Fred knew he had done the right thing…
Present day: Thursday, April 14th, 2022 - 13:30… Blackbushe Airport, just outside London.
Fred Debonair is sat in a private lounge, dressed in black sneakers, faded jeans and a white hooded top, his hair is tied back in a ponytail. He’s currently awaiting his plane to be readied for a flight, one he’s been preparing to take for the last two hours because of information he had received from Abe Greenberg’s son Asher. Currently Fred is on the phone to Abe…
Fred: ”So he’s definitely still out there?”
Abe: ”Asher says he’s staying in the old apartment. Apparently he’s going back at the weekend, obviously before KKND, but he thinks you should probably go out and see him before this all comes to a head.”
Fred: ”I’m already preparing to leave for JFK. We’ll be back for the Pay-Per-View, no need to worry about that. I just hope I can get through to him.”
Abe: ”Ash says it won’t be an issue… Just remember though—“
Fred: ”I know, I know… Some little cheese-dick has a hard-on for giving me lip service in the negatory and wants to stir the pot by making threats… Well literal family bloodline business trumps his ego, so he can say what the fuck he wants and if Fred Debonair wants to step inside Hell’s Kitchen then it’s just what I’m going to do.”
Abe: ”As we all know it would be. Let me know when you’re on the way home.”
Fred clicks the hang up button on his cellphone and places it on the table in front of him. He looks off into the distance at the crew working on his jet, as he leans his arm against the back of the chair he’s sat on, taking a deep breath… He sighs.
Fred: ”Where to begin…? I mean I honestly don’t know where to start with these guys that I haven’t gone over before… In less than three days time myself and Tyler, Debonair Inc, have the chance to bring the IIW Tag-Titles home against Fagan and The Artful Dodger… If you haven’t seen Oliver Twist I suggest you get to watching or reading and educate yourselves, because the analogy is completely relevant especially in this day and age and to clarify, Page is Fagan and that other kid is Dodger… I say that other kid because quite frankly I’m refusing to call you “Thad”, I sound like someone with a lisp explaining your emotional state! Your middle name is Leander right? Cool, then Leanne it is. For those of you who don’t quite get the analogy, Fagan was this older guy who ran this scheming operation of con games, petty theft and that kind of thing, only issue was Fagan didn’t do a thing, he had this group of rag-tag kids, do it for him but short of Page not doing any of the work himself the story is still very similar.
I mean you’ve got a man who’s almost dropping fifty candles on his birthday cake running around creating this stack of boys and girls to surround himself with, of how many I’m still unsure have even seen their twenty fifth birthday yet! CCPE? Sounds more like Peewee’s Playhouse! But I digress, who Chris Page surrounds himself with is no concern of mine, so long as they keep their nose out of IIW business, we’ll be golden… Only problem with that is, already knowing what CCPE are like, I don’t think they can… Now Chris Page likes to call his relationship with Leanne “extensive”, this consists of a year of hating one another becoming a year of loving each other, I’ve had longer and better, relationships with a lunchtime sub… The truth is, you could have picked any member of Chronic Chris Page Enterprises, from J Mont, to S.E.B and back around again to Ricky Rodriguez or even The Mechanic and it wouldn’t make a lick of difference, because it doesn’t matter what duo you put in front of Debonair Inc, it doesn’t matter which two individuals enter the ring against Fred and Tyler Debonair at KKND, there is no greater pairing than the combination of a father and son…
And sure it may seem like there’s trouble in paradise with myself and Tyler, it may seem like we’re not on the same page, but that’s just the family dynamic. I know everyone watching and listening to this, knows what I mean! But you want to talk about a rough-tide family dynamic, look no further than the guys and girls of CCPE… I mean I’ve been wandering around and just generally paying attention to what’s being said around that way and it just seems like certain individuals don’t get on with others in the group, perhaps that’s why Page chose Leanne? Who knows…?! (he shrugs and checks his nails) All I know is, you’d better be ready to link as a cohesive unit when you step into the ring against Debonair Inc because you can bet your ass we will be a united front in all manner of speaking…”
Fred continues to look off in the distance as he sees the crew members and staff putting the finishing touches to the plane…
Thursday, April 14th, 2022 - 19:30 EST… Hell’s Kitchen, New York.
The scene switches to inside a very oldschool style apartment in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen. Sitting in a wide wicker chair, relaxing with his eyes closed, sits Tyler Debonair. He’s dressed in a pair of black jeans, black sneakers and black shirt unbuttoned at the top. He’s watching in his minds eye, as the sun is beginning to set behind the city outside…
Tyler: ”Chris Page… The Pied Piper of Hamlin, loves to think of himself as some major global force in terms of his business, in terms of his “Enterprise” when in truth he’s nothing more than a modern day Ray Kroc. This whole idea of branching out, of Franchising, isn’t new Chris… In fact my Pops has been Franchising since the turn of this current century. Admittedly this wasn’t to the extent that you’ve been taking things, recruiting guys and girls to work in different promotions so kudos for that but I mean, is it really that impressive? You know, being a journeyman…? Is it really that great-a-feat, bouncing from promotion to promotion trying for this title, that title? Don’t you have the balls to finish stories you start, Page? Or is it that you feel you’re some kind of free spirit?! Wandering the world of Professional Wrestling, until you get it right? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re now trying to live vicariously through these guys and girls you put together to compete “in your name”… How have none of them figured it out yet?
How have none of these poor saps figured out how much you’re using them, Page? Or are they content in you having them do your bidding like some kind of messiah, some kind of false prophet…? It’s funny though Chris, hilarious even, that youse assumed the reason you were being given a chance at the IIW Tag-Titles to begin with was because there was a lack of competition in IIW… Sure, there weren’t as many teams on the hunting ground as there probably could have been but the talent itself? As much as I dislike a lot of the guys here, it’s still immeasurable hoss! I mean just look at us, Fred and Tyler Debonair… Initially believed we’d been left behind and forgotten about when in truth it was more because the high ups allegedly didn’t think we’d be interested in the tag gold! Didn’t think that my Pops and I would really want to make that run together but how wrong they were, at the time…
But the thing I’m not getting here, is this, CCPE. You figured you were coming in to take the tag-titles due to lack of competition in IIW, correct? Then let me ask you what that says about Christopher Page and Thaddeus Leander Duke “the second”, hm? You guys make a habit of walking into promotions with a weak status for certain titles do you? You walk in and pick the belt that looks like it has a, what would you call it? “Ineffective challenger base”, in order to make you guys look better than you are?! Well… Guess what ladies, I said this to Thaddeus a week ago and I’ll say it again. You’ve never stepped into the ring against Debonair Inc, not “a team like” us… But us and at KKND you will understand the error of your underestimating ways…”
Tyler opens his eyes, leans forward and stands up from the chair. He takes a deep breath in and walks toward the window as the last remains of the suns rays bounce around from the windows all the way down in TriBeCa… He opens the window allowing for the sounds and smell of New York to infiltrate his senses…
Thursday, April 14th, 2022 - 15:00… Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.
Fred Debonair’s private jet is currently cruising at forty thousand feet, headed towards the good ol’ US of A. The man in question is sat in one of the plush white leather seats, glass of Rémy Martin on ice sits in front of him, one leg crossed over the other. He’s looking out of the window, watching as the sun hits some of the vessels making their journeys across the huge body of water. He picks up the glass taking a huge swig, placing it back down on the table and spinning it slightly.
Fred: ”Leanne Duke, according to his father, mentor, Priest or whatever, Chris Page… At twenty three years old, has apparently accomplished more than most have in God knows how long. Now trust me when I say I’ve done extensive research into you, Leanne and I’ve gotta say that what I’ve seen is definitely not something to be sniffed at! But the truth is, none of that matters right now. I won my first belt at the age of sixteen, my first World Title, seventeen. By twenty-three I had been a two time tag-team Champion, a three time HTTC Champion, a two time Television Champion, a three time World Champion, to name a few; but look where each of our paths has taken us, Leanne… We’re both going to be standing across the same ring from one another at the upcoming IIW Pay-Per-View so it just goes to show that bragging means absolutely nothing.
Leanne you got severely pissed off so I’ve been told, that Chris hadn’t challenged you, when he took the offer against Team Friendship, although to think that match was anything but close is delusional… Well now maybe you can cheer up a bit eh? Given as you’ve got that challenge. We’ve got a mutual understanding with Team Friendship, I guess you could call it a friendship if you will… But Debonair Inc are nothing like any team you’ve faced before. Debonair Inc aren’t just another tag-team, but as I clearly knew you would, you’ve decided you needed to know nothing about your opposition. You’ve decided that, seemingly as always, you’re too good and where it may have worked for you guys previously, it’ll ultimately be your downfall… I mean I’ve heard your passive-aggressive rumblings enough to understand what I need to, Leanne. Oh you aren’t putting anybody down but so few are on your level when (he tries to stifle a laugh but can’t) We all know what the truth is, don’t we brother?
The one pure takeaway from all of this, is the simple matter of finding somewhere that you fit in, once you got the knack of doing that the rest came easy. You found challenges you were able to overcome without any issues and you took advantage of that situation, for lack of a better way of putting it, you guys were smart enough to “pick your battles” as it were… But what happens now, when your opposition isn’t one you knew you’d be facing? When your opponents aren’t the ones you chose? Things go a little differently then, don’t they? Gotta say we found highly amusing moments after defeating The B.U.M Squad to solidify our place in this match, you appear to talk some trash yet you couldn’t even be bothered enough to know who you were even facing! You had no idea who you were up against, because as you put it youse were too busy at some other promotion. Funny thing was I turned on TV when I’d got home that night expecting to find you guys busting your asses in some main event match, yet all I saw was you, Chris Page, chatting shit to another promotions Champion, while your little boy toy was nowhere to be seen.”
Fred chuckles and shakes his head as he picks up the glass of Rémy Martin and knocks back what’s left. He then turns his attention back to the window…
Thursday, April 14th, 2022 - 23:30 EST… Hell’s Kitchen, New York.
The scene switches once again as we fly from Fred Debonair’s private jet, through the clouds and find ourselves on the rooftop of the same apartment block as before and spot Tyler Debonair sitting on his haunches, overlooking the city. He’s dressed in black sneakers, same coloured jeans and a funky paint splatter designed Marc Jacques Burton double-hooded top with “Debonair Inc” patterned across the back in the designers signature stitching, one of the hoods adorns his head. The moon is now high in the sky and he watches it as he scans the skyline…
Tyler: ”It must really eat at you, Thaddeus, or at least it did… Seeing me and Fred working together as we did. I know nothing of your history with your own father but when one talks about “once and for all finally putting down” said father, you’d be forgiven for assuming that things aren’t all Kosher in the Duke household… Sorry, Kingdom. There’s one of the big differences between us, Duke Deus, you live in some big Penthouse Mansion that reaches (raises his hand really high above his head) way up here, in TriBeCa, whilst I’m content staying in my modest, humble abode down here in Hell’s Kitchen despite the fact that my Pops and I could buy Chris Page’s entire portfolio from under his nose and still have change to take your Penthouse Mansion and rent it back to you for free…
I’m genuinely unsure of what your mentor has told you Thaddeus, but you’re quite sorely mistaken if you genuinely believe that you guys are renowned the world over whilst IIW are nothing… Neither Tyler nor Fred Debonair would have walked into IIW had they been the outsiders in any stretch, you see if you really want to do this, Thaddeus we can. The Debonair name has been synonymous with the world of Professional Wrestling for at least half a century now, from my Grandpa to my Pops and now me… We’re quite literally Wrestling Royalty so whatever it is you THINK you are, coming in here Duke, you’re not. But hey! You’ve made a name for yourself in the last two years and I’ve done the same in the last twelve months, independently that is… This match really is going to be something special… You referred to yourself recently as Great White Sharks, am I right? Well, say hello to the Megalodon and the Kraken.
I’m very confused Thaddeus at how, considering it’s all you guys in CCPE seem to do, you don’t exactly know how answering an open challenge works… You just had to show up? Well duh? That’s the entire point, yet Debonair Inc having to Wrestle in a contendership match is an internal and personal situation between Jenny Fletcher and ourselves. See this the problem with you entitled kids, always thinking something is coming your way, well believe me hoss this time around… Something is. You want to keep banging on about how we have “no chance” at beating you? Oh the ending of this saga is going to be so damn sweet Thaddeus, it’s going to be SO good, watching the looks on yours and Page’s faces when those belts come whisking themselves past your heads and into the hands of Debonair Inc…”
Tyler stands up and leans against the edge of the rooftop, listening to the noises of the city, the sirens, the cars honking… The bliss.
Friday, April 15th, 2022 - 00:30 EST… New York City.
A black Ford F Series comes careering around a New York corner and proceeds down The Avenue of The Americas. Behind the wheel, obviously, is Fred Debonair. He’s tapping the steering wheel as an absolute classic in “Area Codes” by Ludacris blesses the vehicle.
Fred: ”Now Leanne, pointing out how cocky and arrogant you are doesn’t necessarily mean I dislike it, it just doesn’t fit you well at all. You go in all guns blazing about how you’ve earned the right to exude the confidence that you do talking about how you’ve faced the very best the world of Pro Wrestling has to offer but IIW doesn’t have the best talent (he laughs loudly and shakes his head) brother you and your geriatric patient are so damn predictable! We knew full well the route you’d take as it seems to be your Modus Operandi, brush off anything your opposition has done or accomplished in their career and make it about you, you, you… I’m telling ya, you guys should give me a call after we’re done here because I could write both your biographies without having to consult either of you, once.
It’s funny that you claim “unlike” people, your brand is a household name, Page. Snap. It’s funny Page also, that you claim “unlike” people you’ve been successful everywhere you’ve gone. Snap… That if you were to leave the business tomorrow, you’d be remembered for all eternity… Snap. You see Chris, Leanne, whether you want to admit or believe it is irrelevant. My boy Abe was accurate, there are way too many similarities between yourselves and Debonair Inc, so many in fact it’s scary. If the Multiverse theory was real I’d have to be looking very carefully in the direction of Chris Page and… The other one, but I’m not overly certain I buy that one right now. What I do know is the only thing that hasn’t happened yet is that we face off, the only thing that has yet to happen is an outcome when CCPE and Debonair Inc set foot in the ring together. The only thing that hasn’t happened… Is you realising that this time; you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, you’ve overstepped your mark...
I’ll tell you guys what, how about you focus on CCPE, Gemini One, Action Wrestling… You keep focused on things happening outside of our match and then when I’ve laid one of you boys out with the God Complex or Enigma Divide, you can claim that you weren’t ready, talk about how generally you’ve had great success when you’ve walked into a promotion and ran your mouths but this time around things just weren’t swinging in your favour and you feel perhaps you should have a rematch for the belts yadda yadda… And don’t worry boys…. We’ll definitely consider it. The fact you believe that Team Friendship for as much as I like the guys, were the “peak” of the tag division says everything needed about your thought process… I truly hope you aren’t going into this match legitimately blinkered and thinking it’s going to be a cake walk gentlemen because I can absolutely assure you, you’re wrong… How wrong you have been, I’ll let you know when we’re standing face to face in the middle of the ring, in Manchester in a few days from now…
Fred peels past a set of lights, taking another turn and slowly pulling up…
Friday, April 15th, 2022 - 00:45 EST… Hell’s Kitchen, New York.
The scene changes a final time and we find ourselves back inside the apartment block where Tyler Debonair has been staying. He’s sat back in the wide wicker chair, this time the blinds cover the window but the TV is on, showing the last edition of Monday Night Mayhem with the sound off…
Tyler: ”It’s funny you guys sit there and say it’s okay if I don’t give you the credit you deserve, you effectively asked Team Friendship what the point was, you weren’t going to return the favour. So which is it boys? Are you honestly not that bothered or are you crying for approval and hype right now? As a matter of fact both myself and my Pops have stated on a number of occasions we respect your ability… We also respect what you’ve accomplished, however the fact you’ve sat there pretending you’ve never heard of us doesn’t piss me off it makes me laugh, it amuses me because you’re either trembling inside both with excitement and fear at the thought of facing us, or… Or you have genuinely not done enough homework and are about to get absolutely steamrolled by people you didn’t know had more reputation and talent in their little fingers individually, than you both combined.
In true predictable fashion, you gentlemen made sure you spent the majority of any air time you were given to talk about yourselves and the projects you’ve started which obviously self advertisement is generally the way, but it’s as if you legitimately forgot you had opposition. It’s as if you forgot that you were going to have people on the opposite side of the ring to you at KKND, it’s actually as if you… As if you thought this was some kind of training exercise, well Christopher, Thaddeus it is not and the level of disrespect you’ve chosen to send in our direction? Won’t stand boys… You claim that you’ve earned everything you’ve got, well the only thing you’ve earned from Debonair Inc is the beatdown that’s coming at the Pay-Per-View!
The crux of your success is a simple one, CCPE… You’re gambling men, you like the game of roulette. Yeah, I see it, chance is in your mantra and you like taking risks… Clearly those risks you’ve taken have reaped you fair rewards up to this point, right? And you keep gambling with the same ol’ routine… You keep kissing that same lucky dice and you keep shooting them until one miserable Sunday evening, when everything appears to be going wrong and your luck suddenly runs out. Your gamble doesn’t pay off and the transparency you emanate, that shines like a beacon well it gets read and your days as infallible, invincible beings end. Spoiler alert gentlemen, that day is tomorrow night at KKND! You spew more toxic garbage from your mouths than all the toxic waste dumps in New Jersey combined but soon they’re gonna get shut for ya, real quick. Enjoy your weekend boys, drink fast, eat good and lay well because believe me when I say you’re gonna need every ounce of strength, some Sunday…”
Tyler leans down from the chair, picking up a bottle of Armand de Brignac Midas and swinging a mouthful as the door of the apartment opens. Tyler looks around as Fred walks in, sitting in the chair beside his and taking the bottle Tyler is offering him.
Fred: ”I knew I’d find you here…”
Tyler: ”Oh, I knew you did.”
Fred: ”C’mon son, we’ve gotta talk…”
/Fin… Well , almost…
…It’s two thousand sixteen. Fred Debonair and an eighteen year old Tyler have just finished looking around the Resnick Psychiatric hospital. Fred looks increasingly worried but Tyler seems relatively happy.
Tyler: ”Man, this place is great (to Doctor Bracewell) I love it, can I get the keys today?”
Fred: ”Wait, keys? Ty what do you th—“
Dr. Bracewell: ”Of course Tyler, we can organise that (to Fred) This is progress! If he believes he is happy moving in here, let’s not challenge that.”
Tyler: ”What do you mean, dad? These dorms are great! You’ll get to do what you need to at home, Mercy can study and I’ll have the quiet in this place to recoup!”
Fred really isn’t sure how to react. He just takes a deep breath, nods and walks into his son as they embrace in a hug…
Now… /Fin.
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