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Post by Shaun Hart on Jul 25, 2022 17:41:15 GMT
Main Event
IIW World Heavyweight Championship
Special Guest Referee: Shaun Hart
Elimination Chamber Match
TJ Alexander vs Sean Raines vs John Cavanagh vs Tyler Debonair vs Curtis vs Justin York
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Post by "Casino Kid" Justin York on Jul 26, 2022 14:01:17 GMT
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Post by The Celtic Club on Jul 30, 2022 1:50:37 GMT
The scene opened to smoke billowing in the air inside of a musty, old Irish pub with outdated decor. The camera follows the smoke to the source, a cigarette held in the hand of Trigger Cavanagh. Trig pulled the bogie to his mouth, he took a drag and as he exhaled the bar became briefly illuminated as an off-screen door can be heard swinging open. Trigger looked up, he acknowledged the as of now unidentified man walking towards Trigger. A brown paper bag thudded against the table that Trigger was seated at. Trigger raised his eyebrow and looked up at Andy Donahue.
Let Johnnie know that we had a good week, alright Trig?
Trigger picked up the bag, he felt it in his hands as if his hands were digital scales. Chris smiled at Andy and took another drag from his cigarette.
Something tells me the main mick is gonna be able to tell when I hand him this rock you tossed at me.
Andy nodded his head, he looked around as if he were looking for someone.
Johnnie around?
He’s in the back, not sure what he’s up to but he will be back up here when he’s free.
Good…good.
Andy took a deep breath and looked at Trig.
How’s Johnnie doing?
With what?
IIW. It’s been a while since they called us for a match, ya know, I ain't had the chance to shoot the shit with him about it much.
Thank fucking God they ain't called us. Kid you got no idea how quick your body is going to start bitching at you.
I want to get back to that second stream of income.
I’m sure we will be back at some point, you’re still young–you’ve got time. As for Johnnie, he’s had a lot of time taken up by this Elimination Chamber coming up.
I know, we've been taking care of almost everything in the neighborhood.
Trigger nodded his head and laughed.
Of course we are, that’s the point. A guy like Johnnie ain’t supposed to be having to show his face at poker games and the like.
Nah, of course, I get it…just, it’s like dude is a ghost lately. Does he need us for Mayhem?
Before Trigger could respond, a door behind him, fuzzy yet visible to the camera, swung open and there he was, John Cavanagh exiting the door shooting a glare at Andy.
Now, just why in the blue hell am I going to need you two at Monday Night Mayhem?
Trigger looked down towards the ground, he knew that Andy was done for at the moment.
It’s just…just…
Just what, Andy? If this was a set of deadlifts you’d get it done without hesitation, now I’m standing here and you’re finding it difficult to formulate a sentence? You’ve got to be kidding me!
Fine, Curtis, there I said it.
Trigger’s eyes popped, all hell was about to break loose as he put the butt of his cigarette out. He reached to the table and picked up a green pack of cigarettes that read Kool and lit another one while shaking his head.
Curtis?! That’s what all of this bullshit about me needing you on Monday is about?!
John began an aggressive walk towards Andy. The much more muscular Andy Donahue had a look of bewilderment flash across his face–what was he going to do? John got to within a few inches of Andy to where some bits of spit propelled towards Andy as Johnnie screamed in his face.
CURTIS!!! You and Trigger couldn’t take the goddamn Tag Team titles off of him a few months back and you’re talking to me about Curtis?! Let me tell you something you lughead, piece of shit, you’ve only even had opportunities in life because your grandfather meant something to me!
Andy’s head began to cower down as if he were a canine being scolded by its master.
You make a few collections, hold Tag Championships in a no longer existing promotion, add a few pounds to your bench press and think that the entire world owes you something! I have busted my ass to become who I am today and I did ninety-nine point nine percent of it before Andy Donahue ever laced up a pair of boots or made a fucking collection! I’ll take care of Curtis, I’ll make the freeloader TJ Alexander wish he wasn’t gifted his spot, send Tyler Debonair to a hospital…again, make Sean Raines cry for his mother and cause Justin York to lose enough blood that he’s going to need some O negative for transfusions! And you know what I’m going to do when I’m done, Andy?
Andy looked up with a nervous glance before mumbling…
Be the World Champ?
Yeah, smart ass, but after that…I’m gonna fly back to JFK, have you pick me up and bring me home so I can make love to my gorgeous fiance, Shannon, all while you’re waiting outside. And you know why?
Andy shrugged his shoulders.
Because when I’m done, I’m going to smoke a joint to calm down. Then I’m going to come down to the street, pull you out of that brand new Benz you copped yourself, and beat the piss out of you for even entertaining the idea that Johnnie Cav might need your help to win this Elimination Chamber.
John turned on a dime, he began to storm off but he stopped next to his brother as Trigger was taking a drag from his cigarette. The elder Cavanagh ripped the cigarette from his brother’s hand and put it out on the ashtray.
When the hell are you gonna have enough brain cells to quit those disgusting things? Those things are the reason you never reached your full potential as a single’s competitor. I feel like I’m stuck in a Sopranos episode as Uncle Junior, only I got two assholes who never had the makings of a Varsity athlete to deal with.
The One Man Dynasty threw his right hand in the air as he walked back towards the office door that he came from. Once the door slammed shut Trigger looked at Andy.
When are you gonna stop thinking for yourself? Nothing good ever comes from it.
Trig, you seen the line, right?
Yeah, I know, Justin York is slightly favored to bring home the IIW World Championship in this Chamber match. Andy, you realize we got bookies right? It’s part of my job to know the line.
Of course, that’s what I’m saying. Johnnie ain’t the odds on one to win it.
Trigger shook his head and grabbed his pack of Kools once more.
Shut up, Andy. Go to gym or go see the girls over at the Sunrise Motel. Stop agitating the guy who decides if you eat or if you sit on the shelf.
Andy rolled his eyes and turned for the door. Trigger lit up another cigarette and took a drag as the scene cut to static.
The static came to an abrupt conclusion and the IIW faithful were greeted once more by the familiar face of “The One Man Dynasty” John Cavanagh. Cavanagh’s face was void of its normal cocky grin, his blonde hair slicked back and his icy blue eyes staring into the soul of the viewer at home. John cleared his throat and began to speak.
The greatest story ever told. Ya know, there are plenty of people who have attempted to use that line and paint a portrait to fit their narrative. So, without further adieu, let’s let Manhattan’s favorite potato eater take a shot at it. The IIW has had its fair share of stories. Just since I’ve been here we have witnessed Osh Vaughan lose control of the company and regain the company. We have witnessed flames burn brightly, and disappear into the night without a whimper. We have seen the birth of new championships, family feuds, the reigniting of past rivalries…it’s almost like if you have a pulse you should be tuning into Monday Night Mayhem on Netflix each time the show airs. Now, without taking anything away from everyone else, it is time for the greatest story ever told in the history of the IIW, no scratch that, the history of professional wrestling to be told. A long time ago, a year and change now, good old Johnnie Cav walked out of the backstage area and entered an IIW arena for the first time ever. Johnnie Boy went on to capture the International Championship and take that belt to new heights with the longest reign the IIW has seen since its relaunch. Now, unfortunately, that championship is no longer in my possession—it’s in the possession of some smug punk that’s only a week and a half or so from learning the lesson of a lifetime at my hands. But, with that being said, that chapter is just one section of this story that is being weaved in and out of the IIW’s folklore. Just to continue, this Irishman had an opportunity while International Champion to take the World Championship off of Jake E. Dangerously and that Irish bastard kicked the World Champ’s ass from corner to corner, dominated ninety-five percent of the god damned match until some jerkoff from my past decided he still couldn’t let go of the only feud in his career that ever carried any form of significance. Now, many of us would go off of the deep end—and let’s just say I did. Johnnie Cav’s mind eye no longer looked forward to the World Championship…it looked forward to ending the career of some prick named Fred Debonair. Well, those turn of events send Johnnie Cav on a little whirlwind as it were. The One Man Dynasty, somehow took his eyes off of the prize for a little bit. He had to focus his carnal instincts on the man that cost him what was rightfully his. Problem for the nobody trying desperately to hang onto my coattails was Johnnie had some business to take care of back State side and had to go bye bye for a little while. Suffice it to say, the world wasn’t prepared for Johnnie Cav to come back as a hired gun on Team Osh in the War Games match. There wasn’t a soul in our sport that could have foretold that Johnnie Cav was returning to the IIW to help out Osh Vaughan of all people. And wouldn’t ya know it? Team Osh came out victorious…now, there wasn’t a traditional submission so I’ll give our opponents credit where it was due, but, let’s face it—they basically got dominated from the moment they stepped into that cage until the moment the referees stopped it for the well-being of our opponents. See, that is what happens when a few people on a team have the correct carrot dangled in front of their eyes. When the man signing the checks owes you, that is one hell of a position to be in.
The One Man Dynasty sucked his front teeth and shook his head while looking off to the side. John ran his left hand through his hair as he brought himself about face to the camera.
So there Johnnie was, riding high, top of the goddamn world. Then a wake up call happened—I mentioned it prior to last Mayhem—Curtis. Funny how such a little pest could present such an issue for someone like John Cavanagh. A throwaway match on a relatively mundane episode of Monday Night Mayhem that would put things in perspective. That was a match that should have been a win, there wasn’t a soul in the world, other than Curtis, who thought he could win that match. But when the bell rang, we all saw that the unthinkable was the reality…Curtis defeated John Cavanagh. Now I’m sure there were plenty of people around the wrestling community that were shocked with this outcome but none more so than myself. The second that hand hit the mat for the third time I couldn’t believe it. I thought I was on acid or magical mushrooms or some shit that was causing hallucinations to seep through my brain. The reality of the situation was that the greatest wrestler to ever lace up a pair of boots was defeated by someone who has become meme material for the Internet. Well, I thank you Curtis…your power of positivity overcoming my superior wrestling abilities and ruthless tendencies forced me to look at things from a different angle as it were. Johnnie Cav was forced to face the reality that every dog truly does have their day. Just as in the game of baseball where the best team can be defeated by the worst on any given day, so it is true in our sport. I’ll take that as a lesson learnt and be thankful it didn’t occur at the conclusion of this Elimination Chamber match. It’s almost as if the past events that have occurred with me here in the IIW are all leading and preparing the company for the date that awaits us, the day of The One Man Dynasty finally ascending to the throne that is rightfully his. Johnnie just has to go through five other bastards to get that shiny piece of hardware to bring back home to Hell’s Kitchen.
The Irishman looked upward, smiling at the thought of himself holding the currently vacated championship belt. His words, stating that he would be the World Champion, that he echoed when he first entered the IIW replayed in his head…over and over again…as they had been since a few days after he lost the IIW International Championship.
I’m sure you’re all waiting for me to explain how simple this is going to be, like taking candy from a baby but I know the facts. Six men, locked inside of an unforgiving structure such as the Elimination Chamber, this is the kind of match that shortens careers and can very well end them. I remember some pissant claiming that he would end my career, he would make me scream like a little bitch and tap out to earn himself a spot in this special edition of Monday Night Mayhem but where is he now? Oh yeah, he couldn’t stand the pressure I put on his neck in the Celtic Deathlock and his not so Rated R punk ass tapped out real quick. That’s what leads Johnnie Cav to where he stands at this very moment. That was the final stepping stone to gain my next opportunity. Now, I may have held World Championships and top titles in other promotions but that’s neither here nor there. I’m not one of these new kids in the locker room who need to brag about other promotions to add inches to their package and justify their own oversized egos to themselves. I came to the IIW after dominating a promotion in the Northeast of the United States and in Canada for one reason and one reason only…to dominate the BEST competition that this industry has to offer. Nothing more, nothing less. The mick from the West Side of Manhattan didn’t provide his John Hancock on that parchment paper that Osh Vaughan wiped out last spring for a free ride. To hell with that noise, I ain’t a goddamn Debonair…Johnnie Cav ain’t never been the type to settle in life for some secondary role!! This ain’t just another step on the road to establishing a legacy and greatness…this is the LAST jewel to be set in the crown of The One Man Dynasty! Oh boys, let me tell you, just like the British Empire was completed when they acquired their “Crown Jewel” in India, this is the crown jewel for my crown. Every other accomplishment, regardless of promotion, regardless of opponent, regardless of period in my career including that International Championship some snot nosed brat currently holds…they’ve all just been bullet notes on an incomplete outline. That last false summit before reaching the peak of wrestling’s Mt. Everest…the IIW World Championship.
Johnnie waved his hand in the air, crossing his body a couple of times.
I’m not trying to get you guys all teary eyed and sentimental, Johnnie Cav ain’t never been that type, but that pile of leather and gold, that is what every single man walking around a locker room strives to hold before they leave their boots in that squared circle. An accomplishment only a few have known the feeling of achieving since this promotion was brought back from the ashes. Jake E. Dangerously, Jonny C, Russell Wayne…three sons of bitches that beat Johnnie Cav to the punch. Hm, you five really think I’m going to allow a fourth person to get what I desire before I FINALLY strap that beautiful belt around my waist?! You little boys really think that you have what it takes? We all saw miracles never cease to exist with Curtis and I, but, I am taking a liberty to inform you five, the humble and the arrogant, it’s going to take death or EMTs strapping me to a stretcher and driving me to a local medical facility to keep that championship out of my hands come Monday Night Mayhem.
John’s Adam’s Apple protruded as he swallowed. As a veteran competitor he was all too aware of what it took to get to the top of the mountain in a wrestling promotion, not only that, he knew what it meant to be THE guy and he knew all of the hazards of keeping that spot as everyone else gets locked and loaded and comes hunting.
I don’t think you five truly understand the insatiable hunger that I hold for the ultimate prize in our industry, the IIW World Championship. While men like Curtis tote the righteous fight, I’ve been living my life in the trenches in order to make sure that this moment comes into existence. While second generation stars like Tyler Debonair show their shine was all of the dollar store variety, Johnnie Cav has proven time and time again that this star ain’t prepared to go supernova and cease to exist just yet! People like Sean Raines can sit there and bide their time all they want, those moments of hesitation that they show are the moments that set men like me apart from them. Others, like TJ Alexander feel confident in their chances while being given the opportunity, an opportunity I’ve earned over and over again yet still had to make PG-13 tap to “earn”. Little shit stains on the inside of an old man’s Depends like “The Casino Kid” Justin York who have been spending their careers kissing ass to people like Shaun Hart, all the while Johnnie Cav has made his own rules every single time he had to deal with authority. Let’s face it boys, you five may have the chance of a lifetime at Monday Night Mayhem but do you boys really know what it will take to achieve it? It’s going to take you five bringing more than your so-called “A game”. It’s going to take you putting on the performance of a goddamn lifetime and at the same time bringing it to levels of violence that you may not be prepared to reach. See, while I sit here and say I’m quasi changed…I’m more open to the reality that even the greatest can have sputtering moments…I know exactly what I’m capable of with my hands. Do a little research, for you youngins like Justin and Tyler that’s akin to taking your iPhone and saying “Hey Siri”, on what Johnnie Cav may or may have not done in his lifetime. Are you going to be able to stomach looking at yourself in the mirror each morning knowing the level of carnage you needed to unleash in order to hold the IIW World Championship? That’s just it…I’m not quite sure any of you children have the testicular fortitude to use the force necessary to get this job done.
Cavanagh’s infamous devilish smirk began to grow along the right side of his face, his chest rose as he chuckled slightly.
Testicular fortitude to get the job done? It’s kind of comical that I would word it that way. Ya know, when I started in this industry…Curtis, Justin York and Tyler Debonair…their testicles didn’t even drop yet, those three punks hadn’t even reached puberty. Now look at them, preaching positivity and Zen, and ya know, whatever bullshit is spewing out of the mouth of the kid whose Mommy didn’t breastfeed him enough. Three of the men in this match couldn’t even whack their own meat when I was starting off my career. I’m sure somebody like Justin York will try to spin that into some kind of Tweet reading something along the lines of “keep walkin old man. U aint washed up ur a never was. ROFLMAO bruh!!!” That’s not what my statement was meant to be. While the youngsters may look at me having a decade and then some on all of them as a disadvantage–I’ve forgotten more about professional wrestling than the three of them collectively understand and I still have a higher in-ring acumen than all three of them. That’s the saddest part of this entire Pony show that Shaun Hart and Osh Vaughan seem to be putting on–they’re deciding to back the wrong horse. I mean, I get it, Shannon is quite a bit younger than myself so I understand when a man a little further on in years wants to settle down they usually opt for a younger model then themselves. I’m not hating on anything that is going on in this Sugar Daddy, Sugar Baby relationship you two got going on here but just remember who you were backing when Johnnie Cav is the one holding the World Championship. Now, I’m not Justin, I wouldn’t play that kind of game with you Shaun but in the end–I’m sure the pretty young face working the casino floor would have settled for a few chips to line his purse if that’s all Daddy was offering.
The One Man Dynasty’s small grin had continued its development into a full out shit eating, open mouth, pearly whites in your face type of smile. John may have been the guy running crews before, he may still have The Celtic Club at his beck and call, but, he couldn’t help but go after Justin a bit…he could feel the blood rushing to Justin’s face at this very moment.
That’s right Justin, Shaun, Chris Page, Fred Debonair and whatever other little minions are involved in your little Welcoming Committee can play your games behind closed doors and poke fun at the nobodies walking around the locker room but I ain’t the one to play with. The second Justin York and his merry little band of assholes decided to put themselves on the same path I was traveling…it was only a matter of time before words became fists, fists became knives, knives became guns, et cetera, et cetera. So is life, am I wrong? When you have two people who think they’re God’s gift to the professional wrestling industry, under contract to the same company, it's painfully obvious that those two bastards are going to be on a collision course. The moment The Casino Kid decided he wanted to be the only professional wrestler worth mentioning by holding the IIW World Championship…that was the moment he etched his future in stone. That was the moment that Justin York guaranteed that he was going to be taught a lesson at the hands of The One Man Dynasty. Unfortunately for Justin York, he just didn’t have the cognitive functionality to see further than a half of a step ahead at a time. I guess he and Chris Page just thought “Oh, Cavanagh is gone…now is our chance!!!” It probably was. The fact that you didn’t make sure you got to the IIW World Championship while I was missing in action is going to be the biggest mistake of your career. Why, Justin? I hate to be the, wait who the hell am I kidding, I love to be the bearer of bad news for a smug little prick like yourself…once Johnnie Cav straps that championship belt around his waist, Justin York will never be able to say he was the IIW World Champion. See, Justin, that championship you hold right now, the International Championship, you look at who held that championship longer than anyone else since IIW reopened and you see one person’s picture on that Wikipedia page.
Cavanagh pointed his left index finger towards himself.
This miserable Irish bastard! The championship you so proudly hold, the championship that finally gives validity to the man that lost his virginity on Prom night to the ugly fat bitch that couldn’t get a date?!? That championship carries significance because John Cavanagh made that championship relevant once more. I took that from our co-competitor Tyler Debonair and no one could take that thing off of me for damn near ten months! You know who else has been able to hold on to a major championship here in the IIW for that stretch of time since Osh reopened the place? Jake E. Dangerously, the former IIW World Champion. Ya know, I don’t like Jake, Jake didn’t like me, but the two of us had this kind of mutual respect. When we locked up for the World Championship it wasn’t an “anything you can do I can do better” shouting match, it wasn’t a brash young punk going up against the grizzled vet, it wasn’t some new school verse old school crap, it was two men getting into the ring and beating the ever loving piss out of one another over the one championship that means something in this entire goddamn sport! And ya know what, Justin? Johnnie Cav was the International Champion when this match with Jake happened. I had the title that you feel makes your name carry a little weight and it meant NOTHING next to the championship that Jake walked out of that arena with. There was no handshake, there was no hug, no cinematic Hollywood bullshit when it all ended. But ya know what? The next time Jake and I crossed paths in a hallway backstage, words weren’t exchanged, but there was a level of respect from two men who gave everything they had that night for THIS promotion and for THAT championship! Justin, I hate to show my hand this early on in the game but to hell with it, I’m really hoping that you and I get to start this match and I’m praying to every god from every major religion that when I’m left with only one other sack of shit, at the conclusion of this war, that it’s The One Man Dynasty and The Casino Kid standing inside of that Chamber alone for the second time that night. I can see it now…a referee’s hand hitting the mat for a three, Justin York shaking off the cobwebs in the corner, some other schmuck walking out as the door is opened, eliminated, and then…the young York will finally collect his senses. He will finally look up and see me, probably rocking a very fashionable crimson mask and looking like a redhead rather than a blonde, then, Justin is gonna look around for a few seconds and realize it’s just him, left all alone with a goddamn madman. How does that sound, Justin? Are you liking the way those events sound? I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you’ll try to say I’m such a delusional middle-aged old fart with early onset Alzheimers or Dementia…and ya know what, so be it, use your nonsensical retort. Continue to sound like you’re some Varsity ball player that peaked in High School while striving to make people think you’re still “cool” and “popular” with your little Welcoming Committee. Keep living in the past, keep living in your pipe dreams that Shaun Hart and Chris Page keep selling you. Hell, I can tell there ain’t one complete brain between the three of you guys–you’ve got good old Freddie Boy on your squad and didn’t even think to find out from him. Shit, Fred should be able to explain it to his long lost twin and Justin better than anyone else in the IIW could. Fighting against Johnnie Cav isn’t a winnable war. Even if you manage to escape a battle with a victory and relatively unscathed–it’s not over…it’s NEVER over.
John let out a slow, deep, maniacal cackle as if he were some serial killer in a slasher film.
I will get the prize that I desire, even if it means I have to take every single member of The Welcoming Committee and skin them like a fresh kill on a hunt. Fred knows, he tried to play ball with the biggest shark in the ocean plenty of times and poor Freddie Boy, he still can’t figure out how to beat the master at his own game. So, with that being said, what makes Justin York believe that he is any better at this sport than a veteran like Fred Debonair? I feel like Fred should be insulted. Justin York’s brash confidence going into a showdown with a guy like Johnnie Cav? The kindergartener is basically shitting on everything you’ve ever done Freddie Boy…now, I knew you weren’t exactly my equal but, I never knew you to take shit sitting down. Hm, how the world has changed in the few months that I had to take off. Well, Justin my boy, I won’t continue to beat a dead horse, I’m sure I’ll be forced to mention your ass again in another promo before Monday Night Mayhem comes. I’ll let you sit there, in the comforting arms of your Sugar Daddy, ignoring the text messages of warnings being sent by Fred Debonair and stew with the knowledge that was just dropped upon you. Try not to have a brain aneurysm while you digest everything.
Cavanagh shook his head back and forth as if he was shaking off the thought of Justin York. A smile broke over John’s face and he began to speak again.
Time to move on, shall we. How about we move onto a topic that might be a little lighter, so to speak. Not too long ago we all saw that TJ Alexander not only returned to the IIW but, he was also just given a spot in this Elimination Chamber. Now, I’m not exactly sure what qualifies TJ Alexander as one of the six top competitors in this promotion so I’m partially aghast at his inclusion in this matchup. I mean, kudos to you TJ, you didn’t have to beat some steroid freak like PG-13 to earn the right to put your physical well-being on the line in the Elimination Chamber. The only problem I see in that is, it makes every other member of this match see a rather large bull’s eye on poor little TJ’s back. Don’t get me wrong, TJ, Justin’s attitude gives him a bull’s eye twice or triple the size of yours but you’ve still got one for sure. Now, I may not know every footnote of your backstory TJ but I do know that you were a star pupil at Wrestling Underground in London. I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’ve heard of the school, but I’m also not going to tell you it means nothing. You like at the MLB, the worst player on the worst team in baseball was once upon a time the star pupil at their school. While I’m not putting down that players’ skill level, when comparing said player to the others…they’re trash. You were a star pupil, you may have been the greatest talent coming out of the London area at that point in time so the IIW used their proverbial draft pick on the hot, upcoming prospect from London. Now, you’re in the big leagues, it seems you made it out of Spring Training because you were able to get yourself a little taste of championship glory with the Television Championship. That’s all good and grand but the problem for you is–we ain’t playing Spring Training games no more, kid. We are ready to play ball and Opening Day passed you by while you were on the shelf and myself and the rest of the men in this match earned their spots. I hope that six man tag you were in last Mayhem was sufficient enough to shake off all of that ring rust. I’d really hate to win the World Championship and then find out that TJ Alexander was being handed a second opportunity for free because the poor baby wasn’t prepared, give me a break this is professional wrestling this ain’t Christmas morning!
The former International Champion spat on the floor in disgust of TJ Alexander’s inclusion in the Elimination Chamber match. As much as he loathed other members of the fray, at least they earned their spot.
Let us not forget the other young boy of this matchup, one I’m quite familiar with already in the young man’s career, Tyler Debonair. The man who held the International Championship before Johnnie Cav made his debut and made the newly crowned International Champion an afterthought just moments after winning the title. It wasn’t long before your championship was mine, remember Tyler? Oh, I’m sure you do buddy, you haven’t been quite the same since good old Uncle John taught you a lesson that your cowardly father never had the gaul to teach you himself. That’s what's wrong with all of you Debonairs in reality, Tyler. None of you have the ability to act like a goddamn man! None of you have the capability of going into a situation with one set goal in mind and getting the job done. It’s like your family crest has a glass that is half filled, but half empty, and nothing else. We’re good, I mean, we’re like halfway there…but we aren’t bad! It’s an entire gene pool that decided to settle for nothing better than mediocrity in the sport of professional wrestling and it can all be traced back to the decisions made by your oh so loving father. I mean, shit kid, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you came under Uncle Johnnie’s wing or something–it's obvious your father no longer wants anything to do with your miserable existence. That has GOT to sting, right? The man you looked up to as an uncle took your first championship from you and put you in the hospital. About a year later, your other idol, your very own father…the man that shot out twenty-three of the forty-six chromosomes that created you from his nutsack tossed you to the side like you were the wrapper off of a McDouble on the highway! Jesus Christ, if anyone was ever in desperate need of a therapist it's this poor kid right here. Tyler Debonair has become the poster boy for therapy in the world of professional wrestling. Such a goddamn shame, Tyler. You had the makings of a star kid and now here you are flickering on and off like a lightbulb with a dying filament. I hope I’m not being too harsh on you kid, I’d really hate to bruise your delicate mental condition any further than your father has. Do us all a favor, ok kid, just don’t get in my way at Mayhem. I will be on the hunt, I will be showing absolutely no mercy to you five men…find a way to avoid me, Tyler! I don’t want to hurt you again, I did it once…I taught you a lesson…I’m not a vindictive kind of person, I’m not that cruel…am I?
The leader of The Celtic Club let out a deep breath. He felt half sorry for what had become of Tyler Debonair yet he knew that come Monday Night Mayhem, if push came to shove, he was going to unleash whatever form of mayhem that he deemed necessary to eliminate Tyler from contention.
And onward we move to the man that beat the other half of the Steroid Non-Creative Family, Sean Raines. Ya know, Sean, I really am happy that you got the win over that moron Crush…I was really afraid for a minute that I was going to have to put that mutt in his place inside of the Chamber the same way I put his brother Poltergeist Garry in his place. Now, Sean, I find you in this awkward place when it comes to the level of importance in this matchup. See, I have five opponents that I need to eliminate one by one. Of course, one of you guys could do me a solid and send one of the others packing and make my job a bit easier, however, I need to prioritize who I get rid of and who I save for later. Obviously, you’re a bit more of a threat than some punk like TJ Alexander who just gets to waltz his sorry ass down the aisle and join in on all of the fun. Yet, I don’t see you as much of a threat as some other members of the match like, let's say Curtis, yeah you’re definitely less of a threat than Curtis. As a matter of fact, it seems almost safe to say that TJ, Raines and Tyler are almost the three afterthoughts in this matchup. Most betting men seem to be throwing their chips behind York, Cavanagh or Curtis while you three are the guys that people feel the need to throw a few bucks on due to payout. It’s not that Sean Raines is a man to be taken lightly, it's just, Sean Raines is this type of guy who is all brawn and no brain. You’re the stereotypical monster that needs to be in a match like this. You’re the guy sitting in the pod and the crowd goes nuts when it's your turn to come out because the poor bastards in the ring, they’re gonna get tossed around like rag dolls for a few moments. That’s great, that’s intimidating and terrifying to the average competitor, and if I’m one of the men in the ring I’m sure my beaten and bruised body will catch a few licks at that moment as well. The problem in your tactics though, Sean? You’re not intelligent enough to keep on pouring it on to one person, pinning them and then moving on to the next. If you’re the sixth entrant…I can paint the picture now…big boot to Justin, clothesline Curtis inside out, Irish Whip and a boot for myself, chokeslam for Tyler and a spear for TJ and instead of hooking the leg you’ll get up and roar like a big moron! That’s always the problem with the big brutes like you, it’s like I keep telling Andy Boy, you’ve got to know when to capitalize on the situation instead of just throwing around your power. I’m dropping gems on all of you punks in the match, I’ll be expecting a cash payment for my tutoring services before the Elimination Chamber gets underway.
The One Man Dynasty laughed, he was enjoying picking apart each other competitor in this match. He had addressed four, there was just one more name that needed mentioning…
Last but most certainly not least, we come to the Prince of Positivity himself, Curtis. How ya doin’ kid? Fun to find myself able to share the ring with you, again. As if you pulling off the upset of the century and then being on the opposing side of our six man tag match on the last edition of Monday Night Mayhem wasn’t enough…we both found our way into this shit show of a match, huh? Well, Curtis, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I will give respect where respect has been earned. I’ll put some respect on your name, kid. All of those positive thoughts, I guess being able to quote a book like The Secret, whatever it is, it came in handy and took you to that next level. Shit, am I proud to say that I have now helped propel the career of Curtis beyond the middle card and Tag Team Championships. Curtis has eclipsed the productivity of my younger brother Trigger, that’s something I’m going to have to make sure Trigger knows about next time I see him. Curtis, you more than anyone else not named John Cavanagh, deserves a spot in this Elimination Chamber. I’m sorry to say I don’t want it to come down to just us, but I’m kind of hoping you’re that guy I pin before it comes down to just Johnnie Cav and Justin York. Now, while I’d love to lock in a Celtic Deathlock and watch the life ooze out of Justin York’s face before he taps out and I’m handed my championships…I won’t be looking to put Curtis into a hospital bed. Curtis, I’m looking forward to watching you thrive as a superstar in the IIW even though your positivity makes myself and every other sane person on this roster sick to their stomachs. And the only reason why I can’t wait to watch you thrive is because you were able to shed some light on my most glaring weakness–a weakness that has been so apparent for probably my entire career yet Johnnie Cav never took the time to notice or address it. My innate ability to write off some of the lesser competition. Curtis is the reason why I won’t take Sean Raines and TJ Alexander lightly. Curtis, I really hope that after I win this World Championship and send Justin York back to suck off his Sugar Daddy’s tit that you can tap into your power of positivity once more and take that International Championship from him. I’m not really sure anything in this world would make me more satisfied than personally ending Justin York’s World Championship aspirations and then getting to witness him drop the only item that validates his very existence to a man that would probably help Justin York’s grandmother carry her grocery’s home. Now, my friends, that is what we call must see TV.
A slight chuckle came from John’s gut, he sucked his front teeth once more.
Some of us may have never met inside of a ring on opposing sides, some of us have. This is going to be a battle unlike no other that the IIW has ever seen. The six men that enter the Elimination Chamber, and the IIW as a whole, will never be the same again after this day of reckoning has come to pass. So this is what it all boils down to. All of the matches, all of the hours on the mat, days of our lives spent on the road, pain from injuries, all of those aches we caused at the gym…it all comes down to one date. One date with destiny that we ALL share. A special edition of Monday Night Mayhem, akin to a pay-per-view, where an Elimination Chamber will be lowered and enclose the squared circle. Two men will start, four in pods, one enters from time to time. Five men will be pinned or made to submit. Six men will enter, five will perish and one will emerge the new IIW World Champion. ONE of the six will stand above the rest and hoist that championship high in the sky while all of the Internet wrestling community erupts. Justin York, TJ Alexander, Curtis, Tyler Debonair, Sean Raines and myself. Boys, there is only room for one of us at the summit of the mountain. There can only be one number one. A solitary person will gain the notoriety of being the ONLY person of relevance in the entirety of our industry…and you’re looking at him. “The One Man Dynasty” John fucking Cavanagh…no Trigger, no Andy, just the king himself.
Cavanagh continued to stare into the camera, his eyes held intently without a blink as the scene cut to static.
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Post by "Casino Kid" Justin York on Aug 1, 2022 8:25:44 GMT
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Post by Sean Raines on Aug 2, 2022 5:44:19 GMT
Sunday, July 31st 2022 Chicago Illinois A busy summer afternoon, the sun is shining and people fill the sidewalks in Chicago’s Lincoln Park area. The sidewalks seem to be forever moving as people come and go through the local shops and restaurants. Hundreds scurrying along the sidewalks, and no one paying attention to the cameras filming in the streets. The patios of the local restaurants and pubs fill parts of the sidewalks, maxed to capacity of people meeting with friends and the occasional business meeting. As the camera makes its way down the busy street we start to see a large old brick building come into focus, posted on the aging brick wall “Chicago Humane Society”. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt Raines wanders the aisles of cages looking at the animals locked up in the facility. Raines not paying attention to anyone else in the room, acknowledges the camera as he starts to speak without making actual eye contact. Raines: “Just over a week. One week away from the Special Edition of Monday Night Mayhem in the dirty, filthy scum ridden shit pool that is Los Angeles California. The Elimination Chamber, which I am sure the structure is known to the state of California to cause cancer, will house six of us all looking to walk out with the top prize in our company, the world title. A recently vacant title, dropped by Russell Wayne after a career ending injury. As they do, the IIW saw fit to pull the puppet strings and put us all into qualification matches, to prove we have earned the spot to be in there. MY qualification was a little different than the rest, but we will go back to that in a little bit.”
Raines: “Lets first talk about what exactly we are heading into as Monday Night Mayhem slowly approaches. And with that, is why I am here. I have a strange habit that had developed many years ago, that when I have a high profile match coming up I like to go places to mentally prepare myself for the fight. This just so happened to be the best analogy I could come up with to focus my thoughts on. This match is exactly like the cages you see before me. One large area, separated from the outside world, made up of several smaller cages used to house the dogs, isolating them until their turn comes. The dogs here do not know what is going to happen, much like the six of us standing in those pods waiting on out chance. One by one released, ready and willing to enter the fight that they have been forced to watch for the last little while. And much like these dogs, we all stare out into the world, just waiting for that cage door to open and allow us to exit the containment and into the match. And much like these dogs, we all happily go along with it. Knowing at some point that containment door will open and our turn will come. We all anxiously await the timer to be free, but we are not sure exactly what we are waiting for. The excitement over the release shadows our fear f the unknown. What happens when that time runs down? What happens when they let us out of our cage? We do not think or process these types of ideas until the moment we are forced to, long term plans are not important at that time, only the importance of opening the containment pod. But soon we realize that we have been released into a more dangerous situation than we had been in previously. In our case, open into a much larger cage, with other people who want nothing more than to hurt us and hold you down from what you are here for to begin with.”
Raines: “Much like these cages the animals in here are very similar to all of us inside that cage. We are all represented within this room. John Cavanagh, represented by this German Sheppard. Loyal to those who he sees fit, and a threat to anyone trying to do the big dog harm. John I know we are not friends. We really don’t have a whole lot of experience being around each other. Both of us selected as part of Team Osh inside the War Games cage. Only this time we are facing off, for the same prize. You are the one competitor stepping into this thing that I have even an ounce of respect for. We have very similar histories. You grew up running the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, fighting to survive and sometimes just for the sake of fighting. I respect that, you do what you need to do, but that is exactly what I have planned heading into this match. I will do whatever I need to do in order to stop you for reaching the top of the mountain and walking away with that title over your shoulder. You see the issue I am having with you John is your lack of…I don’t want to say respect because I haven’t given you enough to gain respect on yet. Let’s go with the word appreciation. You don’t appreciate what I bring to this fight. Yeah I know you see me as the bottom of the match. And honestly you may not be wrong on that. I am defiantly not the type of competitor you would normally see in a World Title match. I like to hurt, I like to break….I don’t do technical, this has been proven time and time again. I work on power and aggression. I know you have seen this because you have made assumptions based off of it. Assumptions based on previous matches and how I go about entering them. Those matches that you watched do not compare to the Elimination Chamber, this is unprecedented to me, so my game plan is not per-determined. There are only two things I know for sure before we get locked in there. Number one is that the title is on the line. The second is that my main reason for wanting in this match is to get my hands on the neck of Justin York. John, we have been in a cage as partners of some degree but that doesn’t matter if you get in my way. My main objective it hurting York, I really don’t give a shit about that title. If you want it, go get it. But stay the fuck out of my way.”Raines continues down the row of cages of animals, stopping at a small, scruffy mutt. Raines: “Look at this scrappy little street mutt. Another representative of the Elimination Chamber in just over a week. We all know this mutt. Always around, but no one ever wants to take possession of the little shit. This person will be the owner, but eventually the novelty wears off and he’s off to be someone else’s problem. Getting the picture yet? He finally finds a pack of street dogs he can be around, but he just barked too much. They get sick of him and once again finds himself alone. So for the next little bit he just barks at things. He doesn’t seem to be that bright so he just barks at things so that he can bark. A squirrel, the mailman, his own reflection sometimes. But for a creature that continuously chases after whatever ball is thrown, too stupid to see the danger in running out into the street. Much like the similar combatant in the chamber, keeps showing up to the fight even though the other five in the cage are much bigger and stronger. But this mutt has the underdog appeal, everyone cheers for the underdog.”
The street mutt starts to bark at Raines, over and over again. The sharp little bark muffles out the other dogs that are now barking along. Raines: “See. They all joined him. Everyone roots for the underdog. They all back him up, but no one actually wants to back this little bastard in the fight. No one wants to be the one backing the smallest dog that just likes to bark. In his own head he barks as heavy as the big dogs, therefore he is a big dog…. such a delusional little prick.”The mutt snarling and growling, standing low on his front legs, all his teeth visible to Raines as he starts to walk past the cage. Before he completely passes the cage, he snarls back at the mutt, who just intensifies the barking back. Raines: “Shut up Curtis!”
Raines makes his way down the cages once again, looking back and forth to find another animal. Finding something that will fit the point he is making he stops. Raines: “Sometimes you find an animal that is willing to get in the fight, that is to confident for the fight and doesn’t know the danger.”Raines leans down to one of the bottom cages. Putting his hand out to the cage a small kitten makes its way over to the door rubbing his head against the wire door. Raines: “Oh too fitting isn’t it? This little kitten, smart enough to know how vulnerable it is by itself will look to join a group of animals to help protect it. It will look for those it knows it cannot dominate in order to not have to fight them. Are you catching it yet? Justin York, although he barks like one of the big dogs is nothing but a pussy. But before we get into my hatred for you, you annoying little shit, I need to address something else. I know Canadian are stereo typically annoying polite, but fuck. I admittedly don’t know how they do things in Toronto but back in Chicago we are not big believers in participation awards. Are you confused Justin? Why do I bring this up? Well it is actually pretty simple. You should be pretty easy to follow along, you seem to like simple things. You seem to have this weird thing with the so called Cannabis Cup. Admittedly I was quite intrigued with the thoughts of this tournament. Really it is exactly what I enjoy to do. All things a go, brutal, bloody and carnage. An extreme tournament that leaves a pile of bodies in its path, a few days and every match a suicide mission. I loved everything that it stands for, but it lost me when Justin started talking about it. Justin, you hyped up the tournament but then you stopped. But why would an egotistical prick like Justin stop promoting a tournament he spent weeks talking about? Well you didn’t completely stop did you Justin? No, you started to praise yourself for making it as far as you did. Justin, you lost. But instead of being a man about it, admitting you didn’t have what it took to make it through suck a wildly sadistic tournament . I thought you were beyond the nonsense. I thought you had the balls to take the loss. But I was wrong, instead you moved from I am the best and I will win…settling on of look how far I made it. I’m so great because I made it really far. Fuck your participation award Justin, we don’t praise your loss. You just didn’t have what it takes to win the tournament, but for some fucking reason you think you deserve a participation award. How very millennial of you Justin. I did enjoy the fact that you referred to me as, and I quote…itching powder on a sweaty asshole in 44 degree weather…. I am not even going to question what kind of weird shit your whore wife is into for you to know that reference! Just knowing that I get under your skin that much makes it all worth it Justin. Why am I trying to get under your skin? Truthfully I am not. That is a situation happening in your own head Justin. You really aren’t that important to me, or that important to the IIW. And you seemed very confused. Did me smacking you across the face with a chair do more damage than I expected? You ramble on and on about me. How you are better than me. How I have been talking about you since the day you showed up…ahhh I think that may be a little wishful thinking there Yorkie. Ya see…. you were already here when I made my way back into the IIW. I don’t know why you were thinking about me for the first month, but I didn’t know who you were at the time. And then we get to your weirdly inflated ego, do you really think the world revolves around you? I guess you are from Toronto huh. How about we just set the record straight right now. When I showed up, I had no idea who Justin York was. No idea what you do, or what you have done. But over a couple of weeks I learned, not because I took interest and looked into you…no that wasn’t it. Week after week you ran your mouth about how great you thought you were, how you did all of this great stuff. About how you won your first title in some redneck hillbilly fed, the type of place that would have housed the likes of Alex Kincaid. You seemed to leave out the fact that you didn’t deserve to be anywhere near that title. It was daddy's fed wasn’t it Justin. Your daddy spoon fed you a title and then gave you no one to really defend it against. Your entire career people have been helping blow smoke up your ass. And then you came to IIW, where somehow I was against you before I knew who you were. You were getting no where Justin, and since you couldn’t beat them, what did the insecure little Justin do? He joined them. The prom committee. Maybe they can make you as famous as you believe you are Justin. But that is a pretty big ego to try and fill. You mouthed off to Jonny C and what happened? You got your ass kicked. Then came Crush, well he beat your ass around that ring as well. I don’t understand why you had such a tough time, I went toe to toe with him…until he got distracted and ran away. But anyway, let’s focus on the most recent nonsense you are rambling about. How I interfered in your street fight to…as you believe cost you the title? That is just not true you stupid little fuck. First off, it was a street fight so me showing up was just part of the course. But, you did misread the situation. You saw me give Fenix a kick leaving the arena, which you read as me getting him back in the ring. I just wanted to see the fight continue, I really didn’t care who won or lost. Me showing up and smacking you in the face with a chair, that was not to cost you the match. No, it was solely because I really wanted to smack you in the face with a chair…nothing more. I knew if I actually cost you the match the prom committee would find a way to get me out of the Chamber because that’s what bitches do. Do you remember the last time we were in a cage together Justin. I believe you were a little bloody and I tossed your bitch ass through the side of the fucking thing? And you really think this time will be different? This time.. what you will walk out as the champion? Justin seriously you need a fucking reality check. How many fucking feds do you talk about? I don’t know the name of the fed, where ever Page first started resting his nuts on your chin. Oh and you also ramble about Cunt…no that’s not it…Cult. I assume that you think you are this great everywhere, even made these same claims somewhere else. But where else are you World Champion? That’s right, nowhere. You talk a big game Justin but you are just a loud mouthed bitch. The World Title shot is a nice bonus, but I look forward to those pods opening and giving the opportunity to beat the living fuck out of you again. I don’t honestly care about the title, I just want to try and push your face through the back of your fucking head. Let the blood start to pour as I watch your chances of being the World Champion go down quicker than your wife on the IIW locker room. “Raines once again continues his way down the rows of cages. Stopping at the only cage containing two dogs. Two puppies sit in a larger cage, the cage looks like it was intended for a much larger dog. One of the dogs sits in the corner just staring at the grey plastic wall, lost to the world. One of the other dogs is mounted up and pounding away at a stuffed toy in the back of the cage. Raines: “Fitting given what we are talking about. This lost little fucker on the left here is perfect to represent Tyler Debonair. Taken from his parent, not sure as to what he should be doing. Just lost and confused he stares at the walls waiting for some instruction from someone who isn’t there. Tyler you got some family issues going on, not quite my daddy is the boss, oh no never mind he is just the resident dickhead…but issues none the less. You walk into this match with a hatred for the prom committee, and with the same type of family drama as fucking Curtis. I really don’t have an issue with you, we are looking for blood from the same places, just don’t get in my way. You want the World Title so you can show Daddy that he made a mistake and didn’t give you the credit you deserve? That’s fine, but I do not plan on walking out of there a loser either, so sooner or later we are going to have some words.”Raines looks over at the other puppy, still pounding away in the corner. Raines: “Then we have TJ Alexander. This one is too fitting. That dog, and TJ in the chamber have this one thing in common. He is just fucking in there, and no one knows why. Former ECWF Horror Core Champion? What the fuck is that? Who came up with that shit? One of the last English twats left in this fed, at one point they were all over the place. Your big claim to fame is starting out in Wrestling Underground in London. You an Osh may be the only two that know what the fuck that is. It really doesn’t matter, and I don’t know a lot about your career but you sure as fuck do not belong in this match. Not that you don’t have the skill, you were handed the spot when the rest of us had to earn it.”Raines gets to the end of the run and exits the end of the hall into the front office of the building. In the corner sits a small desk, a phone, computer and filing cabinet. Raines approaches the desk and pulls out the green chair sitting on the client side of the desk. A young blonde receptionist looks up from her work as Raines sits. Reception: “Mr. Raines, have you selected a rescue yet?”Raines stops and thinks for a moment. Raines: “Well there are five that I do not think will be selected for new homes based on traits I have witnessed. Who has been here the longest? Give me whatever one that is.”
Reception: “Mr. Raines? None of them stuck out more than others to you?”Raines: “No, they were all basically the same. Barking and making noise as I approached the cages. But when they are finally released that cower in the corner because they are no longer protected by the safety of the cages. The once big and brave become mild and humble. Realizing that they were only excited for the unknown of what was beyond the cage. Much like the entries inside the Chamber, everyone is excited about the cage opening and being released only to find out it is just the means to the end, for many it means death. But to those selected few it means everything, and a new chapter. To the five men I will be facing in just over a week, take this advice and do whatever you see fit with it. Don’t be the dogs left behind. One of us will walk out Champion, but when it is all over and the most brutal battle is over…. not all of us will be able to walk out. See you next week fellas, may the toughest survive. I will come back in a week's time and see who survives."
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Post by TJ Alexander on Aug 2, 2022 15:37:35 GMT
(The scene open up and we are inside of a hotel room in Los Angeles, California where this week’s Monday Night Mayhem is taking place, TJ who is wearing some blue jeans, and a black t-shirt is standing on the balcony looking over the city.)
“We are on the cusps of if not the greatest Monday Night Mayhem show that IIW has ever put a show on, in what has been built up as a special attraction match that myself, Justin York, John Cavanagh, Sean Raines and Curtis, and Tyler Debonair, we are all going to be trapped inside a steel hell called the Elimination Chamber, from steel chains to being isolated into pods and ready to be released to fight, we are on the verge to either cut our careers short or win the ultimate prize, and that ultimate prize is the IIW World Heavyweight championship, and I know that I am in a different situation than the others involved. Because when Russell Wayne vacated the world title, Shaun Hart had only myself in mind for the last spot and even though we had differences a while back myself and Shaun Hart know that we do the right thing for business and it was the right thing for business that Shaun Hart put the true special attraction inside this main event...ME. And with that it rubbed people the wrong way and it pissed off a lot and all I can say is fuck you all.”
(TJ smiles)
“I say fuck you all and if you disagree with how I got placed in the world title match, then again fuck you all too. I know I am world heavyweight material and I know sooner or later than I would eventually be heading towards the world heavyweight title picture anyway, all I ever need is a chance, and I will succeed. Now I know that I face tough competition and five others with their own agendas and will to gain that prestigious world heavyweight title, but none of them are and willing to do what I am willing to do. And they can all trash talk all day long like Justin York has been spewing, but in the end and when that dusts settles it will be me holding that world heavyweight title over my ahead and turning heads in IIW.”
(TJ pauses)
“Now speaking of that little puke head Justin York, smoke is so far up your own arse it is going to be sweet as fuck knowing that I have my boot over your throat and watching your eyes pop out of your little head, and I’ll do the world a favour and shut your damn mouth. Sure you’ve been impressive, you’ve been unstoppable, although riding Chris Page’s coat-tails does help, but you have been a impressive International champion but that’s the only championship that you’ll ever get close too, because this elimination match is for men and not little boys with ego’s over sizing their own bodies, Justin York with all the talent you have, you’re not ready. You not ready to be on top of the mountain-top and be the face of the company, that role belongs to me, because I am ready. I am ready to put this company on my shoulder and carry it into the future, and when I will the IIW world heavyweight championship I’ll also be winning the ECE United States championship in one weekend too. “
(TJ smiles)
“Sure you’ve bested me once before Justin York but that was a fluke, a lucky win and now your time and your luck is running out day-by-day and when we get to Mayhem I hope that I am facing you first too, because I am going to love knocking your head straight off your body and putting it on a pike for the world to see, I will be the hunter that collects heads and spines for trophies and I will have your head on a mantle back at home with my World heavyweight title in my hands. Through all your trash talking Justin you best be ready to with that fight in your gut, because if you start to tremble in which I think you will, you’d be dead on arrival. Your living on a thin line Justin and when that thin line finally dissolves into thin air, you’ll be falling from the dream world that you’ve been living in and I will be their watching you fall and I will be their with a smile on my face waving you down to hell. You strut around here Justin thinking everyone is envy of you, that you hold all the talent in the world and that you’re the best, but you’re wrong. In fact your dead wrong and I will show the world how wrong you are when I beat your arse and make you scream like a little bitch that you truly are. So Justin keep trash-talking all day long and I’ll wait until I see you in the ring and I’ll shut your damn mouth and show the world how much of an idiot you truly are.”
(TJ smiles)
“Then we have John Cavanagh and one thing about listening to what John had to say is that in some parts John was right, I didn’t have to go through hopes to get into this match, I didn’t have to bust my body in a match prior to get included into this elimination match, I was placed by Shaun Hart due to the fact that Shaun Hart knew he NEEDED me in this match, he heeded me to show up and put this match on another level and when I get into that ring I will definitely do such a thing. Now John Cavanagh I’m gonna’ try and stay away from calling you an old-man in this business trying to stay as long as you can in a sea of younger talent. Because frankly most of the younger talent around here and in the wrestling business your ten times better and you always will be, but not me. There are a few and I do mean a few younger talents around that will not only beat you on any day but will surpass you, and I’m one of them. I’m one of those younger talent’s that will sky-rocket once I win the IIW world heavyweight title this past week on Mayhem. I have no doubt that your probably the toughest Son of a bitch in this match, but I consider you and I are from a different cloth to everyone else in this match, I may not have the same years in this business as you but I know how to handle myself in a fight, living in London you’ve got to and I come from a big family and we’ve all fought for what we want in life and I will FIGHT until my dying breathe to get that world heavyweight title. Sure I’ve held the Television championship in which I didn’t receive my rematch for that by the way but I am going to become the world heavyweight champion by beating every motherfucker in this match in front of the world. But when you talk John you’ve sound a little jealous, jealous of the fact that I walked into this match and was given and sure I was given a spot, but who wouldn’t grab that opportunity. And My body is at one hundred percent ready and I’m in physical condition to last through whatever pain and torture is ahead, but John I don’t think you are. In this type of match it will cut short careers and in your case, it may end it all together. “
(TJ pauses)
“I know I said I was going to try and stay away from the age factor John but it just couldn’t happen, you’re in a spot where you could be dead at the end of this match John because of how gruel and torturous this will be so why don’t you bow out and do yourself a favour and fight another day, because in the end, it will be me holding that world heavyweight title anyway. Bow out John Cavanagh and fight another day.”
(TJ smiles)
“Then we have the monster in this match and that is Sean Raines and this is the first meeting between myself and Sean Raines locked inside of a elimination chamber, the Goosebumps are standing tall on my arms because I know that Sean Raines is a built brute beast and this type of match falls on his feet for Sean Raines, he is brawler and this match suits him, but he doesn’t know me. As much as I like to fly in the air, and I can do all the flips needed, I know how to fight and I know what’s coming. I know that I am going to fight from the bottom and work myself to the top of the mountain knocking off Sean Raines. I’m not gonna’ lie Sean I don’t know your history and really until this match you haven’t been on my radar, but now you are and right now I am gathering every match you’ve been in and studying your ways and watching you fight, learning everything I can and then I’ll be ready to brawl and beat you at Elimination chamber, the advantage I have over you Sean Raines is that I’m not some steroid using freak, my body is one hundred percent natural trained, not one syringe has been inside my arms to give me any added boosts, my body is one hundred percent conditioned and ready, can you say the same? In all honesty I doubt that you can and that is why I will last longer than you, I will dig deep and fight longer than you and I will win and become the world heavyweight champion over you.”
(TJ pauses)
“Next and very least we have is Tyler Debonair and even though we teamed together a few weeks ago, if anyone doesn’t deserve to be in this match it’s you. You have walked into IIW with using your father as the door opener and getting your feet planted firmly into IIW, but do you really deserve it? I don’t think so, like I don’t think you deserve to be the first and former IIW International Champion either, I’ve been slagged off all week for how I have gotten into this match but nobody mentions about how you’ve come to be, and I’m are given opportunity after opportunity but now that were locked inside the Elimination Chamber I’m gonna do Fred Debonair a favour and put you in a body bag and send you to the morgue, and secretly Fred Debonair will be glad I’ve done it, because I bet deep inside your a disappointed to him, deep inside I bet he wished to have pulled out of your momma’ before ever making you, and this week on Mayhem I’m gonna’ do him this favour in beating you and zipping you up inside a body bag, that’s for damn sure.”
(TJ pauses)
“And Curtis you’re a biggest mystery to us all and maybe that works for you most of the time but for this instance, were locked in an elimination chamber, there’s no escape for you and there’s nobody that can help you either not Osh Vaughn and not Johnny C because you are on your own and that is something that will hold you back and be your downfall and I don’t see you lasting very long with the rest of us because there is no faith for you inside an elimination chamber, only a broken body and a broken dream, you are not ready for this.”
(Scene ends)
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Post by The Celtic Club on Aug 4, 2022 1:34:57 GMT
The IIW Netflix faithful are greeted to the muttered sound of a balding, middle aged Caucasian man with thick glasses and a protruding gut pushing through his alarmingly tight Polo shirt. The man on the other side of this winner of the genetic lottery was the bodybuilding physique of Andy Donahue. Andy nodded, he wasn’t paying attention and couldn’t understand why this moron couldn’t get the hint. Suddenly Andy abruptly interrupts the man.
Tommy, just give me your fucking bet, alright?
The newly identified Tommy looked upset, shocked and confused, as if his ailing mother had taken away his last slice of cake. He handed the paper he held in his pocket over to Andy who aggressively snatched the paper.
Th, the, um, thanks An…Andy.
We’ll settle up next week.
Of course Andy, you know me, I’m always on time.
Yeah, except when you ain’t, right?
Tommy shed a forced, nervous smile and turned around leaving The Blarney Stone. Andy looked down at the paper for a moment, reading the wagers cast by Tommy he rolled his eyes before handing the paper over to Trigger who was puffing away on one of his signature Kools.
Tommy O’Leary every week since Johnnie and I was taking small bets on games and fights back in High School. I tell ya, Johnnie was always a man on the rise, Andy.
Yeah, you look at it?
No, what the fuck do I care, we will find out who owes and who we pay at the end of the week…I’m enjoying my espresso.
Trigger picked up his tiny cup and took an obnoxious sip as he smiled at Andy.
He bet on York in the Chamber match.
And?
He always puts his bread on Johnnie, you ain’t worried about signs like that, Trig?
Trigger placed his espresso cup down on the table in an extremely delicate manner, he was always the “fancier” and “flashier” Cavanagh brother–they were almost a ying and a yang.
Tommy O’Leary is a degenerate gambler, he will bet anything on anything. If I told him you and I were having an arm wrestling contest and I had better odds he would bet on me. Remember, the guy put his money on them trash can slamming Astros last year when Johnnie told everyone to put their scratch on the Braves.
Wait, Trig, you saying Johnnie is the Braves and Justin is the Astros?
I mean, the Atlanta Braves are a fine organization and so is The Celtic Club but, shit, dammit Andy you’re completely missing the point.
The gaze on Andy’s face went from intent to almost a sad puppy dog. He had always looked up to the Cavanaghs, it was the happiest day of his life when his grandfather introduced Andy to John and The Life. Andy did his best, he really did, but he couldn’t help but feel a little upset when he fell short of their lofty demands.
Sorry, teachers used to always tell me I needed to be explained a few times.
They were saints.
Andy’s face seemed to grow a tad confused at Trigger’s comment.
No, my teachers…not saints.
Trigger smiled and shook his head.
I guess that went over your head.
Over my head? Trig, you forget I was a star Varsity athlete in football and baseball!
Trigger’ eyes bulged, he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing come from Andy’s mouth–it was as if the gorilla of a man had no idea that the words of the English language were able to be twisted and manipulated in many different forms. Trigger let out a shriek and then placed his right hand up to the temple of his head.
What’s wrong, Trig, everything ok?
Trigger stood to his feet, shaking his head at Andy’s question.
Yeah, I’m gonna go in the back and smoke a joint.
Andy’s eyes lit up at the proposal.
Sounds like a good time, man, cool if I come too?
No!
Trigger stormed off towards the back shaking his head as Andy was left in the middle of The Blarney Stone with a confused look on his face.
Greedy bastard, what the hell did I do?
Just then the door to the front of The Blarney Stone swung open, Andy turned to see if it was another betor. Andy’s confused face turned to a smile as the camera panned back to get a glimpse of “The One Man Dynasty” John Cavanagh entering the bar in a typical late 90s, early 2000s New York City summer fatigues–a white tank top, blue True Religion jeans with red stitching and a pair of wheat Timberland boots with the tongues leaning outwards and the laces untied–it was clear these “work boots” had never seen a day of work in their existence.
Johnnie! How we doin’ baby!?
John tossed Andy a wondering glare, it was just a few days ago that John had torn his protege a new asshole for worrying about Johnnie in the Chamber and for having the audacity to believe that The One Man Dynasty needed help from the remaining members of The Celtic Club to get the job done at the next Monday Night Mayhem.
I’m good, kid, how you feeling today?
My traps and shoulders are a little sore but you know what they say, Johnnie, no pain no gain am I right?
Cavanagh chuckled and shook his head–Andy knew everything there was about physical conditioning but ask him how to operate a calculator and the poor guy’s brain might explode.
You see Tommy on your way in?
John looked at Andy, surprised at such an “out of the blue” question.
Yeah, I saw that guy…maybe you should be his personal trainer, poor schmuck looks like he’s put on quite a bit of weight since that bitch of a wife of his left him. I mean, could you blame her, he lost the family business his pops left to him.
Yeah, speaking of which, that deli is doing pretty good since we took it over, Johnnie.
Of course it is, it was doing fine before we did too stupid ass O’Leary just didn’t know how to NOT gamble all of his profits away. That’s what I mean when I’m telling you be careful on your little excursions to Atlantic City, Andy, that shit can be as addictive as dope but you won’t ever OD on it…you’ll just lose everything and have to live with it.
No, you’re right Johnnie, but, did he tell ya about his bet for Mayhem?
No, I don’t discuss bets with the degenerates that cast them. Ain’t no point, then one day they can testify about me knowing their bets…what good is that for me?
So he didn’t have enough balls to tell you he put money on Justin York?
The leader of The Celtic Club’s right eyebrow rose up slightly before he provided Andy with his retort.
Tommy O’Leary didn’t tell me his bet because he knows better than to share it with me…unless I expressly ask. I don’t EVER expressly ask, not just for the legality of the situation, but because who he bets has no bearing on the outcome of any competitive sport. I don’t know if you noticed from the looks of the guy, but the closest thing to a “sport” he takes part in is fantasy football or Madden or Road to the Show. How long do you think he would last on an elliptical?
Andy laughed.
I’m not sure he could even get his ass onto the machine without being out of breath.
I rest my case. You are too worried about this Elimination Chamber match and this betting line and the douche bags that place the damn wagers! When I pin Justin York’s shoulders to the mat after a Hell’s Kitchen Drop or make him tap like a little bitch in the Celtic Deathlock…we get paid, twice! Can you stop being a little Nervous Nelly now?
Andy slowly bobbed his head up and down as if he was saying “yes”.
Good.
I mean, John, it ain’t that I’m doubting you man…you’re God on Earth to a little mick from the neighborhood…but, I ain’t never seen betting odds come out and Johnnie Cav ain’t number one.
John smiled and slapped his hand on Andy’s left shoulder.
There’s a first time for most things in life Andy. I've been the underdog before and took home the W…I’ll do it again next Monday. Now, be a good kid, get your ass behind the bar and make me an Irish coffee, ok? I got some work to do.
Andy nodded his head and began his short journey to the bar to begin making John his drink. John walked back towards his office before shouting…
Make it a little extra strong and uh, some spaghetti eaters are gonna stop by to talk with me…send ‘em to the back as soon as they get here. Wait…one more thing…I signed you and Trig up for some Tag Team contendership tournament they’re throwing in IIW. Figured you’d be happy to know.
Fuck yeah! I’m itching to go, Johnnie.
I know you are, kid. Get my brother’s bum ass into the gym and get him in shape for it.
Andy smiled as the scene abruptly cut to static as John shut the door behind him. The silence was momentary, however, as Netflix opened up to a black and white image of a gym. There were heavy bags, speed bags, dumbbells, cardio machines, weight lifting machines, some mats and in the back the faint sight of a ring was seen. Smoke poured in front of the camera from the left hand side, the camera continued to pan and John Cavanagh was spotted, seated on a bench with a drenched shirt, smoking on a blunt. John took another long hit followed by a deep inhale, he put the blunt out and let out a gentle exhale and began to speak without facing the camera.
Time is one hell of a concept. Time is a way that we are able to divide our lives into different chapters. Decades, years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds…anyone of the aforementioned units of time can be used to mark differences, even turning points, in a lifetime. For the dim witted amongst the IIW personnel let me spell it out a bit. About a decade ago Johnnie Cav was a World Champion in a different promotion, just a year or two after that I was back sitting in a concrete slab, a guest of the lovely State of New York. When I came home and decided to lace the boots up again it was merely a matter of months before Osh Vaughan was knocking on the door of The One Man Dynasty to get my signature on a contract. Just a few short weeks ago, Johnnie Cav made some bitch named PG-13 tap out like the coward he was and qualified for an Elimination Chamber match for the IIW World Championship. Five days from now we'll all bear witness to the events of Monday Night Mayhem, the events of that “devil’s playground” that we will be entering. After a couple of hours of the show that Chamber will enclose The One Man Dynasty and the five other pieces of shit that will meet their maker and be forced to watch as their opportunity at the IIW World Championship slips away…minute after minute until Johnnie puts one bastard’s shoulders to the mat for what will prove to be the most important three seconds in IIW history!
Cavanagh outstretched his arm and raised his fingers while mouthing the words “one, two, three”. A grin grew on the side of his face that faced the camera as he continued.
In such a short amount of time six gladiators will enter the modern day Roman Coliseum to do battle. The difference? We won’t all enter this Coliseum fighting to entertain the crowd and fighting to gain a wooden sword to represent our newly found status as free men. No, see, we aren’t slaves. We have all studied the greats and fighting arts in our own ways, yet, none of us were forced. At Monday Night Mayhem the six of us will enter this Coliseum with a different prize gleaming in each of our eyes. While we will all hope to be victorious there will be no Emperor to give a thumbs up or thumbs down, although I’m nearly positive Shaun Hart fancies viewing himself in such a light. The victor of this gladiatorial combat will raise their hands themselves and hoist the most prestigious prize in our sport high in the air for all to see. A championship befitting of one man and one man only on this roster, Johnnie Cav! I’m the sick, sadistic puppy that has zero issue putting his well-being and the well-being of others aside to get the job done. No gladiators will perish from the Earth in this showdown of epic proportions, but five of the six gladiators involved will have a severe blow to their ego dealt their way. Now, while all six of us may still be able to fill our lungs with air at the conclusion of our epic little showdown, none of us will ever be the same again. I’ve been in matches like this, I’ve bled, had body parts mangled…I know an event like this changes the participants, there ain’t no way that it won’t. When you face the trauma of five other men tossing your helpless body against that cold steel, when you get hit with a suplex, slam or piledriver on those grates…you’ll feel that shit every single time it rains for the rest of your years on God’s green Earth. Matches like this Elimination Chamber seriously begin to put your life and your career into a new perspective. For all the tough guy shit some of my competitors, namely Justin York, may spew from their mouths in the ensuing days, one thing is crystal clear to my eyes, none of these men have any idea what the bastard Johnnie Cav has in store for them. Whether I’m the last pod to open or I’m one of the two poor schmucks that are going to have to start this hellish contest off—I’m prepared for it. The mick from Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t give a damn if he enters with an advantage or disadvantage because he is already keenly aware of the situation that he’s been placed in. I’ve been put into this asylum that has been constructed by Shaun Hart in an attempt to get the IIW World Championship under the control of The Welcoming Committee and into the hands of that little privileged snot Justin York.
Johnnie spun on the bench and turned to face the camera as he rolled his eyes. He was used to dominating promotions, he wasn’t used to having help from those in positions of power though–authority figures never liked him, he always wondered why. Now, he was here, in a position where the authority figure had his hand picked puppet and Johnnie, for once, could almost be seen as “the good guy”.
Before Justin and Shaun get ahead of themselves and start gossiping like the little bitches they are, “Cav’s making excuses already” or “We got Johnnie scared now”, that ain’t it at all little girls. I’ve had my back up against the wall plenty in my life whether we are talking about this industry or the streets. Us potato eaters, we are a rebellious, thick headed bunch, don’t ya know? The Romans gave up on their conquest, the British had to constantly fight us until they lost the majority of the country to its rightful inhabitants, those of us who came to the States? Well, we were the toughest and most outlandish of the lot. We were the poor country folk accustomed to living in harsh conditions escaping famine and persecution or the sons of bitches that were wanted for fighting for their homeland! We fought each other and every other ethnic group that came to this City for damn near a century and some of us are still as rough and tumble as our immigrant past that paved the way for us today. Now, that you’re aware of all of that, does the moronic Justin York still feel as if he has a chance at suppressing the savagery that exists not just in my mind but deep in my heart and soul? Does an all brawn and no brain Sean Raines have what it takes to take his carnage to a level beyond my own? Does an undeserving piece of pigeon feces like TJ Alexander even deserve to breathe the same air as someone like myself? Could the Prince of Positivity’s powerful thoughts outweigh my own at the moment? Has Tyler Debonair learned enough about this industry to finally hang with The One Man Dynasty?I’ll tell you flat out, the answer to that laundry list of questions, that’s a definitive and finite “no”.
Although the footage was black and white the icy glare from John’s piercing blue eyes could still be felt through the screen. Many of the veterans of the IIW locker room had been around the night that Johnnie was nearly crowned the World Champion. The majority of them knew he had been on a little rampage ever since that night–one family was all too familiar with Cavanagh’s wrath since that day…now these five were going to pay the price for all of the rage stored up since that fateful night.
Now, I’m sure all five of these punks will come back with their own long-winded, repetitive retort to each word that comes out of my mouth. Well, I’m sure their hardcore fans are about to get a little annoyed with me but oh what the hell allow me to proceed to sum up each one of the five for everyone. If you’d like to hear some cocky for no reason bum, tune into Justin York. Incoherent rambling more your thing? I hear that Sean Raines is perfect for that type of time wasting jibber jabber. Trouble falling asleep at night? TJ Alexander has actually been prescribed as the cure to insomnia by nine out of ten physicians. Feel the need to hear someone who is a second generation failure? Go listen to Tyler Debonair. Kids haven’t annoyed you to death during summer vacation yet? Curtis promos are perfect for you. You would all probably be better off saving your brain cells and just skipping these promos and get the hell outside, it’s beautiful out—albeit it pretty god damn hot here in the Big Apple.
The One Man Dynasty chuckled slightly and smiled. He could be a serious prick the majority of the time but those who knew him best knew this grouchy old Pit Bull actually came equipped with a pretty decent sense of humor.
I need everyone who is paying attention to the IIW right now to listen very closely to what good old Johnnie Cav has to say. There are some boys in this matchup who aren’t quite picking up what I’m putting down if you know what I mean. It really seems as if this ignorant little puss Justin York believes he will be walking out of the Elimination with HIS championship. Do you fully comprehend what you’re saying new kid—I know that Johnnie Cav had to go handle some things here or there and depart the IIW for a little bit but before I left you weren’t exactly much of anything around here. Congratulations, you’ve reached the International Championship, forgive me for failing to give you a cookie or a round of applause but this tough SOB just ain’t impressed with your “rise to power”, chicito. You may view 2022 as “your'' year as if you’re the dragon or more likely the rat in some kind of Chinese New Year but let me tell you something, Sonny, you’ve only been able to attain any semblance of status in this promotion because the big dog wasn’t around to protect the yard. You really think that I’m going to let you claim and obtain “your” championship when the only man in this goddamn business who deserves it is me? It should have been mine before your new lap dog, Freddie Boy, got involved in my utter slaughter of Jake E. Dangerously. I don’t know why I even bother, it’s quite clear from the oral diarrhea you unleashed you eat up every word you state. I know what this all is though. The new pup came in and started yapping at the mouth, making a lot of noise, nipping at the less hostile dogs in the yard and started to think his balls dropped and people owed him a little bit of respect, am I right? I nailed all of that right on the head for your sensitive little ass, Justin, didn’t I? Doesn’t it irk you just a little bit that the man who set the bar for the title you hold is one of the five that will be sharing this devilish compound with you? Doesn’t it make your skin boil that until you surpass my reign you’ll never be truly viewed as “the best International Champion”? I mean, I don’t really give a flying shit how you feel, it’s a rhetorical question, please don’t waste our time by answering it.
The laid back, relaxed, smiling John Cavanagh had left the building, the serious prick had returned almost as quickly as you could write the name “Justin York” on a sheet of paper.
You make me smile though sometimes, kid. I can’t help but see a little bit of myself in you, the demeanor, the approach. There are slight differences, however, well major differences. Whenever Johnnie Cav went into a promotion and formed an organization to dominate…he came in by himself, won the big belt, and then proceeded to build a solid team around him that protected the man who rightfully DESERVED the World Championship. Hell, you must think you’re some savvy student of the game, studying the greats like Johnnie Cav but the problem for you is…John Cavanagh didn’t leave his boots in the ring yet! Justin York enters the IIW trying to talk his way to the top of the mountain. Justin York comes with a crew of miscreants to try and gain himself the top spot in this business! Hey, Fred, if you’re listening while you suck Justin’s ass ask yourself…did you ever think you would see the day when John Cavanagh was the man on the righteous side of a fight? I hate to slander myself but I can tell the world with undoubted certainty I definitely didn’t think this day would ever come.
The Irishman shook his head from side to side in disbelief. His entire life he had been “the bad guy”, he was the one that the fans, the promoters, the other competitors…they always loathed him. Now, the promoters and some other competitors for sure, but it seemed as if more and more people may have been getting behind the “John Cavanagh as the IIW World Champion” train, could you blame them when faced with the other option?
Hey, Justin, actually, I wanted to let you and the world in on a little secret. Your level of arrogance, you’re a talented microscopic prick, seriously, you’ve found a way to do something quicker than most and that’s getting under my god damned skin! Usually, when Johnnie Cav has to deal with an opponent, I treat it as a one night treat for the poor bastard. I’m going to give this guy the biggest brush of their entire career and its all because they’re receiving the honor and privilege of sharing a ring with The One Man Dynasty. Very few people have been able to drive me to a point where I want to hurt them multiple times. This guy Lou Natic, your latchkey Fred Debonair and now…you.
The former International Champion shook his head, he couldn’t believe someone had gotten on his nerves this quickly. Justin didn’t even have to do much, he was just being…Justin.
I truly look forward to our dance with the devil inside of the Elimination Chamber. I can’t wait to tear your flesh off of your face. Maybe I’ll permanently remove that cocky little shit eating grin with the chains of the Chamber. No, don’t like that idea? Ok, try this one on for size, maybe I’ll pummel you so badly that I can pull you or chase you to the top of a pod. At that point I’ll proceed to turn your face into hamburger with my fists all before pulling you up in the air and leaping off, crushing down on the mat, destroying that weak little neck you’ve got with a Hell’s Kitchen Drop, give you a memorable moment before I send you back to your one hit wonder reign as International Champion. You know that’s what this is right? Right place, right time, you caught lightning in a bottle, kid. You’re Prince Iaukea with the Television Championship in WCW, kid, after you drop it you’re going right back to curtain jerking where someone of your skill level belongs. You talk all this nonsense about the other people in the Chamber not being on your level and you couldn’t be more correct when it comes to me. I’m not on your level buddy, I surpassed your level a long time ago. If you’re lucky and you keep honing your skills, one day you might be able to say you’re on my level though, try to keep up little guy. You seem so proud of what you’ve done and what station you find yourself at in life at this very moment but you gotta understand, I did all of that by the fourth show I was on here in IIW…Justin. I took some time off, worked out a better contract, came back and was inserted directly into a main event War Games for a reason. People don’t worry about ring rust with John Cavanagh. Osh knew I was the key to winning his position back so of course I was his final surprise even after your buddy Chris Page. We now find ourselves at the same EXACT station…you, me, the other four, all waiting on the platform of the Subway for the IIW World Championship line to come in. Only problem is, the train only has enough room for one of us six and you’re all going to have to take the last breath out of my lungs to board this damn train.
The New York native pointed to himself, signifying that he was going to have to be dead before one of his opponents would win the Chamber.
You may think that the pissants you disposed of in the Cannabis Cup Tournament impress some folks around here, but honestly, it doesn’t. No one gives a damn. You can proceed to rant and rave for five or ten minutes about physically abusing a female or defeating however many other guys I’ve never heard of but that’s neither here nor there. I am really starting to feel like a broken record ever since I returned to IIW. I had to explain this to the two bitches fighting over some non-IIW championship on an IIW show, what you’ve done elsewhere holds equal value to yesterday’s newspaper here in the IIW. None of you would be HERE unless you knew that this is where, sorry to steal the phrase, “big boys play”. I honestly figured this was just some kind of learning disability that ran in their family but maybe it’s just some crazy delusion that all of you little babies have. Not one of you has an original thought on how to get into your opponents heads so you spit out random, useless facts about how you beat up Angelina Jolie’s stunt double, the spokesperson for Maker’s Mark and Lee Harvey Oswald’s corpse. Just like you say the guys you beat mean something and no one here has done it, I hate to break it to you but not one of those unworthy of a Google search shitheads you rattled off never met me and that’s a god damned fact! And I’m telling you now, Junior, if they couldn’t beat you…they most definitely can’t hang with Johnnie Cav.
Hell’s Kitchen’s Favorite Son rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe the things he had been hearing for three out of the last four shows–three different people blabbering about useless information from elsewhere. IIW may have never traveled to Johnnie’s City, but this was the New York City of professional wrestling–if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.
You wanna sit here and call out Jake E, let me tell you something Homecoming King, I have had the pleasure of sharing that ring with him and your bitch ass ain’t built for that showdown so I can only imagine the level of competition you’ve already defeated to think that your shit smells like roses. The funny part is that while you try and tear somebody like myself down all you’ve been able to do is prove your own dismal mental abilities. You plan on outsmarting me? You don’t even realize the championships I’ve held. I mean, Justin, thank you for predicting that I will one day be a former IIW WORLD Champion because I am currently unable to say that, it would be quite foolish of me to take that undue credit. All the more reason for The One Man Dynasty to win the World Championship on Monday—would hate to make you look that stupid, right? And on the subject of stupidity…my moniker, really? You really want to bring up that subject? The Casino Kid? Really? Give anybody all the shit you want but at least have something better to back it up with laddy. Uh, why do I even try…I’m talking to a goddamn wall. This poor kid is confused on how to do research, he’s probably studying Trigger Cavanagh footage and thinking that is the Cavanagh in the Chamber Match. Wait, maybe that explains his entire delusional rant regarding how easy this match is going to be…he thinks he’s facing Trigger!! Wait, that can’t be…you’ve said John multiple times…oh well, whatever, I tried to give you an out and you still failed.
The Celtic Club’s founder couldn’t help but laugh. He was beginning to realize how much of a dumbass IIW’s new resident smartass was in reality. This Elimination Chamber was going to be a rough fall from grace for poor Justin York.
One thing I can say though…I’m glad that you’ve been able to find your way to a CVS and grab some Q-Tips in order to listen to the stories of this “John Cavanagh of old” you speak of. Of old…cute, kid. You must fancy yourself some kind of clever wordsmith, maybe after I win the World Championship and visit the pay window I’ll buy your oblivious ass a thesaurus and a book of proverbs and idioms to expand your colloquial phrases a tad. You heard I’ve put on instant classics, you’re damn right I have and you can safely bet that little clam that Stacey has that I’ll be doing it again. The only problem is, to put on a classic you need a worthy opponent. Look at PG, I made him look like some Middle School child in the ring…wait…I get it. The Casino Kid thinks that he has what it takes to give Johnnie Cav his next classic, really kid? You’re that cocky that you believe you already have the in-ring capabilities to push The One Man Dynasty to his limits? Very few have had the ability to do it…I’d say just Jake and your newly acquired errand boy. I’m not quite sure you’re on their level, Justin. I’ll tell ya what though, since I’ve been feeling a bit more generous lately and overall have been thinking outside of the box I’m willing to do something I’ve NEVER done before…all for you Justin.
Johnnie smiled as he held up one finger in the air. He couldn’t believe he was about to say this but for the first time since Fred Debonair screwed him out of the World Championship, he just had the carnal urge to mangle another human being.
You want to know what it is? Oh, I’m sure that everyone is dying to find out so I’ll just put it out there now. After I make a mockery of yourself and the other four, I’ll be sure to get you the first one on one opportunity at MY championship. And ya know what? After I defeat you in our first ever one on one encounter, you can go cut a promo against Whiskey Willie or whoever the hell makes you feel like the superior athlete about how you are one of the few who could make a classic with Johnnie Cav…if you want. I’m sure it won’t be a classic, you couldn’t hang with Jake and if Fred stopped falling victim to the Debonair Curse then he would have you making a call to your dentist way before I do on Monday night. The problem for Justin York is that he doesn’t realize that he is the IIW version of those little fleas, the Island Boys. That’s what you are…granted, you don’t have as many ugly tattoos or as original of a hairstyle but that’s your ceiling. The International Championship is your one hit wonder, it is your one time in front of the limelight, the one true opportunity you have to gain respect, fame or financial security…whatever the hell it is that your crusty ass is after in the end anyway. So, please, before little Stacey leaves you and breaks that poor little heart of yours…be smart with your money, invest it, before her dumbass realizes that you’re nothing…and leaves you for the next twat waffle that thinks he’s the next Johnnie Cav. I’ve been impersonator time and time again in this great business, and while the old cliche is that impersonation is the sincerest form of flattery, I’m not feeling all too flattered. You and all of the other pieces of garbage in this industry like you Justin, you guys are gonna have to keep being second rate John Cavanagh rip offs and wait your goddamn turns because the OG of this shit ain’t ready to let the pups run the yard just yet. When you meet me on Monday night, Justin, you will find out that the Elimination Chamber is a beastly asylum and I am the inmate in charge of that son of a bitch! I will be the ONLY one deciding who leaves on their own power and who needs a gurney to bring them to the goddamn hospital! Myself and myself only will decide when the pain and suffering ends for you, Justin. The others can fight amongst themselves for the other four spots, I don’t really give a damn about any of them, Johnnie Cav is coming to take your goddamn head off, Ichabod. Maybe I will play the role of the Headless Horseman, maybe I’ll just chase you out of the IIW during this match just as the Horseman ran Ichabod from Sleepy Hollow.
Cavanagh chuckled, that had always been a favorite story of his ever since he was a little ruffion running the streets of Hell’s Kitchen while his father helped to RUN the streets.
Look at me talking about fictional children’s stories. I guess that about does it and sums it up for Justin…his pipe dream of jumping me in line for the IIW World Championship…it’s just a nice children’s story. Enough about The Casino Kid though, I’ve got other fish that I’m going to have to fry during this Elimination Chamber match so let me get to it now that I’ve pretty much exhausted what I have to say about York for the time being.
John took a deep breath, he knew he had four other opponents it was just this York kid was the one he looked forward to pummeling the most.
Did the entire world just think I was going to forget about Sean Raines? I’m sure Sean won’t admit that he hopes I did but I also know he’s smarter than Justin York so I’m sure he knows that I didn’t. How could anyone forget the image of that rabid animal standing in kennels made for dog fights. Shit, man, I know I’ve done some messed up things in my life but you are taking these “click bait” and “shock value” moments a bit too far. As an owner of a Pit Bull, ya know the dog most often abused in these forms of combat, I’m deeply insulted. I mean, don’t get me wrong I ain’t about to get all teary eyed over it, I’m not naive I know how this cold world of ours works more than the majority of Americans out there but knowing you felt comfortable standing in such an area makes my stomach turn. Not like, I want to vomit because of nerves. It's almost as if you standing in those cages makes me view you in the same light as a dogfighter. You visiting a rescue and relating it to those dogs as fighters may be an issue in your head but I get where you were trying to go with it. Maybe I’ll enter that Elimination Chamber, a rabid, hungry, abused Pit Bull and head right for the dogfighter, Sean Raines, and tear him limb from limb. I mean, that is of course if little Justin is still safely tucked away in his pod. Maybe I should actually go after you before Justin. While some may think being compared to a German Shepherd is a compliment due to their loyalty and intelligence, a guy like me don’t take too kindly to being compared to the police dog, my guy. For someone who says they have a bit of respect for me, I gotta say that comparison ain’t showing it. Now, I’ll take that you and I had similar upbringings, I’ll take that we are both survivors at the very least and that we both know how to give somebody a set of hands but that is where the similarities come to a screeching halt. You do whatever it is you have in store to “stop” Johnnie Cav on Monday Night Mayhem, seriously, bring the absolute best that Sean Raines has to offer because after Monday night Johnnie Cav ain’t trying to hear any excuses from any of you five! I don’t want to hear you didn’t get enough sleep, one of you stayed out drinking, flight came in late, stubbed your toe on the coffee table, whatever excuses you’re cooking up Sean, and whatever excuses the rest of you other four are pondering at this very moment, erase them from your goddamn memories! There will be no excuses, there will be no surrenders, no prisoners taken, no love shown nor lost…there will only be the moment I predicted the SECOND I walked into this promotion…Johnnie Cav, bloodied and battered, the IIW World Champion! You use every ounce of your strength and capabilities inside of that cage Sean, I know damn well what you’re capable of from War Games, you’re a sick puppy just like me but that ain’t gonna change the outcome of the Elimination Chamber. No, Sean, nothing you got is going to be able to change the sight of the potato eater from the West Side of Manhattan with that beautiful championship belt strapped tight around his waist to close off Monday Night Mayhem. I implore you, bring everything, I honestly wouldn’t mind watching you hurt Curtis, Justin and TJ at all…I’d probably enjoy it. I tell ya what, big guy, you do a good enough job with some of these other little shits in the Chamber, come down to The Blarney Stone in the Kitchen, I might have some work for ya.
A gigantic smile took over the Irishman’s face–never could have too many sets of fists in this world.
There is one thing you’ve got one hundred percent incorrect though–where Johnnie Cav views Sean Raines as far as this match goes. I truly believe you could toss any one of us, myself included, around like a god damned rag doll if you really wanted to. I know you’re going to be the one that will be the least fun to knuck up with and exchange blows with back and forth in the center of the ring. Justin, TJ, Curtis, Tyler…they aren’t as much of a monster as Sean Raines is. I even said it the first time I opened up about you, you’re the type of guy to beat the shit out of everyone in the match but not take advantage by eliminating some of them via pinfall when they’re down. You’re the kind of guy that dishes out a lot of pain and then goes on to receive a lot of pain before going out like a candle in the wind. You, much like young Tyler, are more in need of someone to guide your potential than anything else. I don’t see you as the absolute bottom of this match, that honor befalls TJ Alexander–that guy is trash, I don’t know how many other ways I have to explain it…dude didn’t even earn his spot, I’m not even sure if I should keep giving him recognition as a human being let alone a competitor. You may feel as if your newly found environment may lead to a change in character and strategy for you but we all know that most human beings are creatures of habit. None more so than the big, dumb oafs in need of leadership like you, Sean. You will do everything that I have predicted, you will cause pain and suffering probably for all five of us but in the end, when you run out of gas, it ain’t gonna take much more than a small package to pin the mighty Sean Raines and send his ass back to the showers where he can meet TJ Alexander who will mostly definitely be eliminated before Sean on Monday night. So, while we may share a few similarities Sean, let's get one thing perfectly clear, we are not the same. Johnnie Cav is a god damned winner, it's what he has done the majority of his life even when the odds were stacked up against him, I can’t safely say the same holds true for Sean Raines or any of the other four bastards walking into this Chamber. Also, Raines, while I may have a reputation as being world renowned a first class asshole, even I wouldn’t go visit an adoption center with no intention of bringing one of the poor dogs home…what kind of a heartless savage are you, anyway? I mean, it is poetic, just like you got all the hopes up of all those poor canines–you, Justin, Tyler, Curtis and TJ also have their hopes at the highest levels. All five of you believe you have a real opportunity at the IIW World Championship but none of you are going to go far enough to make it happen because none of you little boys have it in you to get the goddamn job done…and that most definitely includes you, Sean.
Cavanagh spit to the ground in disgust. He was ready for Monday Night Mayhem to come and pass. He knew there were plenty of others–wrestlers, fans–that couldn’t wait either but this kind of wait was unlike anything he had felt in quite some time.
Let us not forget about the freeloader of the group, Shaun Hart’s final selection to be an entrant in the Elimination Chamber, TJ Alexander. Can we just stop and think about this situation momentarily, why would Shaun Hart elect TJ Alexander to take Russell Wayne’s spot in this match? TJ Alexander isn’t a former World Champion. TJ Alexander wasn’t in some banger of a match earlier in the night. This guy just randomly returned and he got inserted into this match? Not the last World Champion, Jonny C? I mean, Jonny and I hate the site of one another but I could at least respect putting the most recent World Champ in without a qualifier. Jake E. Dangerously? Bring the IIW’s former final boss out of retirement so that he and I can make mincemeat of Justin York together before rehashing our differences inside of the Chamber? While that would have been an epic moment, Shaun Hart failed to deliver on that as well. Instead he brought out TJ Alexander…I’m sorry, who?!?!? What the hell has TJ done to deserve this golden opportunity to be handed to him? There was even another edition of Monday Night Mayhem where you could have had a final qualifier or a battle royal or some shit, hell Shaun I’m not bookerman around this place this shit isn’t reflected in my salary! Whatever, what's done is done. Shaun Hart decided to gift TJ Alexander a spot in the Elimination Chamber because according to TJ he’s the “main attraction”. You have got to be kidding me! You may feel as if you’re the main attraction, and frankly that’s all fine and dandy with me, but its crystal clear why this asshole Shaun Hart put your punk ass into this match up free of charge. Shaun, Justin and their little puppet master Chris Page need to make sure that there is another entrant who has no chance of defeating poor little Justin. That’s why you’re in this match TJ. You wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of hanging with Justin York, Tyler Debonair, Curtis, Sean Raines or myself! You were one of the safest bets on the roster that Shaun Hart could have made as far as hedges his bets went. Are you that oblivious to the reality of the situation five of us find ourselves in this Monday night? Shaun Hart is the special guest referee, Shaun Hart wants to make sure that Justin York leaves Los Angeles with the IIW World Championship because then Justin York can feel peer pressured into a finger poke of doom moment with the mastermind behind this whole Welcoming Committee, Chris Page. I know, TJ, I get it, you’ve been gone for a little while…I was too but I caught up so I figured Johnnie Cav would do the polite thing for once in his life and provide you with a little knowledge, ya know get one of his opponent’s up to speed with the happenings around these parts. Holy shit, I really must be turning a new leaf, if I do say so myself.
John shook his head, he was bewildered, not so much at his action but more about how naive someone like TJ Alexander who was in fact “the main attraction” of the IIW could be.
Like you said yourself, TJ, Shaun Hart “needed” you in this match. Why would he need someone deserving? Why would he need someone who poses a threat to his little baggage handler? He needs the baggage handler to get the World Championship and keep it warm for the man he truly lusts for, Chris Page…the Fred Debonair doppelganger. Back to a more serious train of thought though, TJ, I am happy that you believe in yourself so much. The fact that you already believe that you are my equal or superior speaks loads about your confidence. Some view confidence as a negative trait but the truth is it's a characteristic that every champion needs. If you don’t believe you have the skills to push across the finish line then, really, who the hell else is going to give a shit about you or your chances of success? The problem I see with your confidence is this though, it seems more as if you’re saying these things to yourself and that you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re actually THAT good. I mean, it sure as shit didn’t sound like you were trying all that hard to convince me or anyone else for that matter. It seemed more like you kept repeating yourself so that you would hear it a sufficient amount of times that you would begin to believe the myths you’ve created about yourself. You say you’re already better than someone who is ten times better than the majority of people walking around our locker room, you say you’re the goddamn main attraction, well guess what TJ? There isn’t a single soul walking this planet that believes a single syllable that has come out of your mouth since Shaun Hart paraded out the dog and pony show that is the sixth and final entrant in this Elimination Chamber. You can try to crack whatever jokes about the “old man” all you want TJ, whatever makes young punks like yourself and Justin feel as if you actually have a chance to win this match and championship on Monday night. We all need help going to sleep at night sometimes, right? I prefer to smoke a little bud and make some love to Shannon, Justin York prefers to cuddle up to Shaun Hart while they stare off into a photo of Chris Page, you like to make yourself feel significant. Sorry, TJ, you’re just not one of the names that get listed in the significant column. If IIW was a club and had a VIP section your name would most definitely not be included on that list. Shit, you would probably be waiting behind the velvet rope hoping the bouncer let you in. Hold up, I found the perfect new line of work for Sean Raines after he fails to win this title, he can be the bouncer at one of the clubs we got in Manhattan with strict orders to never allow entry to TJ Alexander’s bitch ass.
The One Man Dynasty began to laugh, his chest raising with each breath of air entering or leaving his body. He began to shake it off, he had business to attend to and he wasn’t about to waste anymore time.
Now, the world has already heard what I’ve had to say about two other entrants in this Chamber. Unfortunately, unlike Justin, Sean and TJ, we haven’t had the pleasure of hearing from Curtis and Tyler Debonair on the issue of the Elimination Chamber just yet. That’s OK, I understand boys, cat’s got both of your tongues. Not too big of a deal and all…
John rolled his eyes as he looked to the ceiling. He smiled before continuing.
Tyler, Curtis, I really did expect to hear from the both of you pretty quickly. Ya know, Tyler having been cursed to try and live up to the lofty expectations of his estranged father and Curtis having the most obnoxious smile in the history of the world. I figured Tyler Debonair, the son of Chris Page’s newest follower Fred Debonair, would be on some kind of a warpage to try and prove to the world that he had grown as an athlete in the last year or so since his Uncle Johnnie took his ass to school inside of an IIW ring. I also kind of figured that Curtis would be all too quick to rub it in my face that he had a victory over me and that he, maybe, slightly, but definitely didn’t, succeed in changing Johnnie Cav just a little bit. It’s all good guys, I get it, you’re a little flabbergasted. Neither of you two are quite sure what to make of this Elimination Chamber match. Neither of you have ever had to step into a structure this unforgiving before. Like the freeloader said, this thing can shorten or end careers. Curtis is looking around trying to find a way to spin this whole Chamber that ends careers thing into a positive, I guess he’s just having a little difficulty with it. Tyler, I don’t know kid, maybe your father turning on you just made you turn into a mute. Is that what happened? Does Tyler not like to talk anymore? Has the Zen God morphed to some kind of “oh, woe is me” Emo God? I don’t know boys, maybe it’s just, I thought a little more highly of the two of you than this. Tyler Debonair and Curtis just skating around the fact that they’re taking part in what is quite probably the biggest match in the history of Monday Night Mayhem. A vacant World Championship sits waiting for its new owner to take possession of it after pouring blood and sweat all over the canvas and neither of you two can formulate a single thought? I have to say, that is a pretty sad reality if you ask me. I’m assuming you actually give a damn about my opinion since you’re still watching.
The Irishman got to his feet for the first time and began a slow waltz towards the ring in the back. He was silent during this time period but once he arrived at the ring, he placed his hand on the hardest part of the ring, sighed and looked back at the camera.
While I may not give many people their due very often, the majority of us bust our ass each and every single time we walk through that curtain, step between these ropes and put it all on the line. Some of us do it for sport, some for the pay, some for recognition, even the ones that don’t bust their ass do it for a reason. I say this because there is one person that I haven’t really been speaking to directly much. Sure, I’ve made allusions to the man trying to play Oz but I am one hundred percent willing to expose the little coward masquerading to the world from behind the safety of a curtain. Our special guest referee, Shaun Hart. Shaun, I get it, you’re trying to hedge your bets. You’re trying to make sure that the horse you have been backing these past few months finally get across the finish line and get you what you want. You have this grandiose vision where your man crush, Chris Page, is the World Champion and what you are trying to do to get there is make sure that Justin York wins this Elimination Chamber…why? Because you, Justin and Chris know that Justin can’t beat me without help. And ya know what else? You three little bitches are also fully aware that Chris Page can’t beat Johnnie Cav without some help either. Shaun, I beg of you, remember your surroundings when making decisions this Monday night. Remember that there are five of us who aren’t very fond of that little lap dog of yours. Also, remember that if you won’t do the right thing when I have pretty boy’s shoulder down to the mat for that three count…you’re locked inside of that Chamber with Johnnie Cav just like Justin York is. I’m not asking for your help, I ain’t Justin, I don’t think I need it, I am telling you for your own god damned benefit…call it down the line at the end. Don’t let the horse you’ve been backing come back to bite you in the ass this Monday night. This is my world, I do this to put food on the table and I do this because I love to test myself against other human beings. If you decide to play games with my enjoyment or the money that allows me to live–you will see a side of Johnnie Cav reserved for very few, and that is a goddamn promise, Shaun!
John rubbed his hand across his face before continuing.
One last thing before I go, this is more of a personal thing guys so if you want to tune me out, feel free. I feel that it’s fitting that this matchup would take place in Los Angeles. I was just there not too long ago during my little absence. Great weed, great weather, felt at home even though I’m a New Yorker. I’ve always had a love for the motorcycle culture that originates from Cali, always loved lowriders and believe it or not this Irish son of a bitch loves to bump a little Tupac when he’s behind the wheel. I heard Justin York employ the phrase “me against the world”, how would you know what that truly feels like. In this chamber it will be Me Against the World for Johnnie Cav, and it will be All Eyez On Me after I win the World Championship, and you boys know what that means? It means Better Dayz for the IIW…some may not believe it but does anyone actually think Curtis or Justin York on top is actually a better option? If you do, I got some ocean front property in Iowa for sale. So boys, when we enter this structure in the City of Angels, we will show the world what kind of hellish mischief the IIW can cook up and what kind of demons will be unleashed from the six of us inside of that Chamber. Until next time boys, keep hitting those glass dicks to keep your pipedreams going…Monday is getting close, soon you’ll be facing the harsh reality of life on Tuesday, without the World Championship.
Cavanagh walked away from the ring, this time the camera did not follow. The camera stayed focused on the ring, the battleground that would be at the center of the Elimination Chamber for a moment before cutting to static.
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Post by Sean Raines on Aug 5, 2022 4:35:47 GMT
Tuesday, August 2nd 2022 Los Angeles California
Raines: “I decided to fly in a little early this time, have a look around and see if this city holds up to the hype. As it turns out…it doesn’t. If you take the filth of New York, the crime of Detroit and mix it with the ego of Toronto and you end up with swirling sect pool of penicillin and regret that is Los Angeles. This city smells of failure, how many souls have given up everything they ever had to try and make it in the city of dreams. But once they arrive, they bitterly and quickly notice this city will eat you alive and spit out your bones, your dreams and your existence.”
Raines: “Much like all of those musicians, aspiring actors and those hippies of the 60’s looking for a new start, many of the IIW roster will be coming to this city with dreams and hopes but will only find death and despair. For those who kiss ass and live off of someone else’s fortune the city is beautiful and aspiring. The Prom Committee will surely love it here, with all of them having a firm lip lock on Shaun Hart’s ass. Except, of course for the douchiest of the nut sack warmers Justin York. This lost soul just follows along, keeping Page’s balls warm for him. But like I said before….if you can’t beat them join them right Justin? Now let’s not let anyone be a fool here. We all know that with a member of the prom committee acting as ref, we aren’t exactly going to be in there for a fair fight. Which is why, I am bringing a little back up of my own. We have big plans for the chamber. Without knowing the order at which those pods are going to open, obviously a full game plan isn’t going to work out now is it? No, I figure some of you have brought up some good points in the past week. John figures I am just going to storm around and kick people in the head…which I am not going to say is wrong. I don’t walk into any situation with a full plan. I rather just grab a chair, wrap it around your dumb mug and move on with the match. From multiple opinions I am the wild card inside that cage. I have done a couple of cages since coming back to IIW. I’ve even used Justin Yorks face to open it up. And I fully intend on doing it yet again. When it comes down to is I don’t really care who the hell is in there, I just want to show up, and bust some of you bitches up like Stoner with some fresh weed. But I stray from my point. Many of you see me as not fitting inside this match, but I assure you I have earned my fucking spot. I won my qualifying match, one of which I was a sever underdog. I defeated Scotty Adams, the man who took the title from TJ Alexander. I defeated Crush, a man who bitch whipped Justin York like a pimp who was shorted a dollar. And I defeated Stoner is that match, a man who is as unpredictable as they get. And I earned my place inside that cage. But I ended up earning more than a title shot that night didn’t I? Yes, I earned an opportunity. The opportunity to be the new face of the IIW? Yeah sure maybe, but that wasn’t the exciting part. I earned the opportunity to get into that chamber with some of the top guys around here, and beat the living fuck out of them in an environment that is basically the inmates running the asylum. John Cav, Justin York, TJ Alexander, Curtis, Tyler Debonair and myself all walking in but who walks out as champion? Looking forward to the insanity of this one gentlemen! The Bastard Son Of Hell’s Kitchen, the Self-Important Princess of Yonge Street, The High Flyer, Osh & Jonnie’s Weird Triangle Sex Child, The Unwanted Son and The Mentally Disturbed.”
Raines: “I may not be the favourite to win in this match, but I am defiantly a major threat. Time and time again I have proven just how dangerous I can be over the last four months. And those who have a long running history here in the IIW, know what I am capable of. The Elimination Chamber is right around the corner, the insanity that we bring to Los Angeles will go down in the record books. The Crypto Arena, since 1999 it played home of the Los Angeles Kings of the NHL, the Lakers & Clippers of the NBA, it is contracted to play host to events in the 2028 Summer Olympics. For one night on Monday August 8th 2022 the Crypto Arena becomes the home on IIW Monday Night Mayhem on what is being billed as a Special Edition. The booking team of IIW have not publicly stated why it is being deemed as special but I have my own opinions. Special to me solely due to the fact that I get another opportunity to smash Justin York’s face against that steel wall, to tear his flesh and watch him bleed. To take a chair and wrap it around his forehead one more time. Justin you irritating little fuck, bashing your face in will be the highlight of my night. Not the only thing I am looking forward to, but defiantly the top of the list.”
Raines: “Like me or not gentlemen, we are all meeting up in that death trap of a cage. The Elimination Chamber, the angel city where the devil plays…it will be a night to remember. It will be a night no one will forget. One of us will leave with the IIW World Title, but who? Who has the best game plan? Who has some tricks up their sleeves? I have watched, and I have listened to the ramblings of my opponents heading into this match. And I know that I am walking into what will prove to be the toughest and most brutal match I have seen since coming back here. I have gotten to witness what you are all capable of inside that ring. For most of you I have shared a ring with, and some I just don’t want to. My inner most thoughts of this event are very torn. On one hand as I have stated previously I am looking forward to the chaos that this type of match will surely bring. But, on the other hand I don’t truly have any interest in a match against some of you. Not that I have any fear of losing to you, but simply because I find you boring. Your careers don’t have anything that interests me. York, Cav & Debonair.. I have seen all of you have incredible fights. I know what to expect out of stepping in with you. Curtis is the one I don’t know what to expect from, and quite frankly don’t believe TJ has earned or has any right to be in there. Too many times has the IIW just handed out title shots, but not everyone has to earn their own and TJ is one of those. Monday night John Tolly defends his title against El Landerson….really? How many times is Landerson going to get a title show? He lost the bloody title, stop giving this guy title shots. We went into War games in order to bring back Osh, and to change the way things were done here in IIW. All that has happened is the new boys club have made random decisions and none of them make any fucking sense. From this point on I am on a mission to make changes and hold those responsible for the bullshit accountable. I will see you guys in a few days.”
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Post by TJ Alexander on Aug 5, 2022 14:53:44 GMT
(The scene opens up and we are somewhere backstage at the Crypto Centre, Los Angeles, California. As we see the IIW backdrop , a few seconds later TJ Alexander steps in front of the camera, all dressed up in a well tailored gray suit and wearing some sun-glasses, as TJ is about to do some media press conferences.)
“A lot of talk has been spewing over the last couple of days between us six, and we are almost there just two days away that we all will be locked inside a steel cage and I am here to get my last words in, everyone is coming up and chatting their last words before the match so here I am.”
(TJ pauses)
“Firstly I‘d like to direct my attention to Johnny Cavanagh and John Cavanagh my good old buddy, do you know what this is?
(TJ puts his hands in a gesture of a small violin position)
“This John is a world’s small violin and the reason I’m playing this is because you are so invested in the fact that I was given this opportunity that you are harping on it so much that you cannot come up with anything else, now John you I know that you’re a tough son of a bitch and I know that you’re a hard bastard but I didn’t know that you were a whining little bitch, shouting from the roof-tops how I was given this chance has really gotten under your skin and you know what that means? I am rent free in your head sweetheart, and I am going to play on that violin and pull the strings inside the elimination chamber and a I do that you’ll make mistakes. Mistakes that will ultimately be your downfall, but let’s just flip it, you hang around a lot of bikers and motorcycle clubs right? Would the men in their be bitching like you? Would the men in their scream and shout about it? No. The men in their would probably down some shots, hope on their bikes and come and find me and deal with me am I right? Well Johnny Cav I am here in The Crypto Centre right now, come and find me? I bet you don’t. I bet you’ll wait and fester the thought of how I was given this opportunity, and while your festering that thought and acting like a wounded animal.”
(TJ pauses)
“I am right here dreaming on becoming world heavyweight champion in two days, and in two days overcoming every obstacle and overcoming all the odds that have been placed in front of me, you wanna know what Johnny Cav, over here in the States you have Mount Rushmore and it is a mountain with figures of the presidents of the past, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, and all were great in their own way I’m sure of it, even though I’m British, what I’m saying is wrestling have their own Mount Rushmore of their favourite wrestlers too, and you can guarantee that I’ll be on their mount Rushmore of their favourite wrestlers in the years to come, because I have the time on my hands. I have the talent and skill that I possess to surpass every motherfucker in this match ten-fold and while I am on their Mount Rushmore and the face of IIW, you won’t make a top ten, let alone anyone’s mount Rushmore, and you’ll be lucky to not be walking around with a Zimmer frame after this match Johnny Cav because of the brutality that everyone will experience.”
(TJ pauses)
“It’s gonna’ be something incredible when everything is said and done and I am left standing tall with the world heavyweight title over my shoulder showcasing how awesome I truly am and knocking you on your arse your gonna’ have to crawl back to the motorbike club hand in hand begging for them to let you in and you wanna know what their gonna do? Laugh at you? They’ll laugh at the fact that you lost the big-one, in this city. You’ll have nowhere to go and you’ll be on your own sitting on a curb somewhere with a bottle of jack drowning your sorrows and while I and Shaun Hart, John Dixon are celebrating in Los Angeles in the VIP of some club with my World title. You John Cavanagh have actually ran your mouth a little too much on this one old man.”
(TJ smiles)
“This coming weekend is probably the most important weekend of my career so far because while I at Mayhem for the Elimination Chamber on Monday winning the world heavyweight title, on Sunday Night I wrestle at ECE on X-Rated at their pay-per-view called Sign of Victory and I’ll be bringing home the gold when I win their United states championship from Jason Scott, at the Oracle Arena, in Oakland so this city and this weekend will be important to me and I will be a double champion.”
(TJ pauses)
“I will be the true definition of a belt collector so everyone else in the elimination chamber can kiss my arse when you all are lying on your backs watching me celebrate and that’s for damn sure.”
(Scene ends)
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Post by The Celtic Club on Aug 6, 2022 22:22:30 GMT
The scene opened to a drip of sweat falling to the ground, in slow motion the droplet was captured splashing off of the small puddle that had formed on the black mat that had been placed against the wooden floors. The scene panned out to expose John Cavanagh getting some last minute push ups in. He shot off a few more as the sweat continued to drop off of his face, this was the end of his workout, it was time to let his chest fire until failure. Another, and another, and another, and then the door swung open…
Shannon - Johnnie, baby, you can’t go this crazy.
The soft voice of Shannon Riley carried from the doorway to John, although John’s music could be faintly heard from his ear buds he quickly paused the music for the beautiful blonde woman gracing the sweaty, smelly beast.
John - Shan, you know that I gotta do what I gotta do to make sure this trip to Los Angeles is fruitful.
Shannon rolled her eyes. Ever since John had qualified for this Elimination Chamber match it was as if the leader of The Celtic Club was in his own world, on his own planet, hell, his own Universe. John had been training non-stop, the type of training that would make the gym rat of the group Andy Donahue blush something fierce.
Shannon - I know, this is your chance to take the championship…the big one. I just don’t want to see you tearing a muscle when you’re at the finish line.
The Irishman popped to his feet and took his ear buds out, resting them on the bench he had used previously. John picked up a towel and wiped his face clean of perspiration.
John - Trust me, babe, I am all too aware of my own limitations when it comes to pushing my body. I’m going to be one hundred percent on Monday night and I am going to leave that Elimination Chamber the brand new IIW World Champion if it’s the last thing I do.
Cavanagh clenched his fists, he looked out towards the window in the room. John’s eyes wandered down to the bustling streets of Hell’s Kitchen. His mind began to wander before Shannon snapped him back into reality.
Shannon - John, you need to give yourself a little rest, at least from this kind of training…
John - This kind of training?
Shannon smiled and bit her lip, John’s eyes popped.
John - You mean, I need a little extra cardio?
Shannon - Yeah, I guess that’s one way you could put it.
John smiled at Shannon.
John - Always trying to make sure I am ready, huh?
Shannon smiled and winked.
Shannon - You know me, babe, always looking out for my man.
The scene cut to static before reopening to John Cavanagh seated in front of an IIW banner. John rubbed his hands back and forth, took a deep breath and began to speak.
John - Forty-eight hours from now the world of professional wrestling will be able to witness what is quite possibly the single most important match in the history of IIW Mayhem. Six men will be locked inside of the most hellacious structure ever introduced to this sport. Forty-eight hours from now Johnnie Cav will be locked inside of a chain linked cage, grates surrounding the ring only expanding the surface area where we will all put our bodies to the test…pods to house each inmate of the asylum until it’s their lucky, or unlucky, turn to enter this unforgiving, unrelenting nightmare that has been bestowed upon us by the powers that be…namely Shaun Hart. Now, while a man like myself is fully capable of admiring the vision of Mr. Hart in booking such a matchup, I am having a hard time grasping why he wants this match to occur. Why does Shaun Hart want to lock his little puppet Justin York into a Chamber with five people who, honestly, share a disdain for Justin York and a desire for the World Championship…nothing more, nothing less. Curtis, Tyler Debonair, TJ Alexander, Sean Raines and myself aren’t friends, we are not allies, shit, we are all barely acquaintances at this point. The five of us don’t care for one another, as a matter of fact I’m pretty sure the only one with one ounce of positivity towards another member of this match is that annoying little shit Curtis. I just want to know ahead of time, what is the purpose of the party, Shaun? Why are you locking your little pet inside of this match with us and more specifically…with me? You know damn well I don’t take kindly to people in general, and when they’re annoying, chauvinistic and an all around untalented piece of shit…yeah I really don’t take to those kind of people, ever.
The One Man Dynasty let out a short cackle before snapping his fingers as if he were bringing himself back to reality.
John - Shaun Hart wants to play match maker, he wants to play special guest referee, he wants to play God…well, Shaun, be my god damned guest! I don’t mind if you want to stack the chips up on Justin’s side of the table. I really don’t. The last thing that Johnnie Cav is going to bitch and moan about it some opportunistic bastard taking advantage of what looks to be a golden opportunity. I mean, would I shout and tell an authority figure who has decided to help me “no, I don’t want your help”? No, of course I wouldn’t. I may seem as if I have been turning some kind of new leaf, and in some ways I most definitely have, but when push comes to shove I’ll still always be the same Irishman that learned all of life’s harsh lessons on the streets of the West Side of Manhattan. One lesson those streets made me keenly aware of, was to not turn down an easy score. Same miserable old schmuck comes in the bar and gets smashed every day…does that mean you don’t take that alcoholics next order? A degenerate gambler walks in and wants to wager his kid’s college fund on a college football game…who am I to stop them? See, that’s where Shaun Hart and Justin York decided they knew better than me. The two put their bird sized craniums together and came up with this Chamber idea where Shaun Hart would be able to legitimately babysit this idiot Justin York. Let me tell you mutts the truth, I’m pretty damn glad that this is the way all of this is going to go do. As a matter of fact I’m actually ecstatic! I am so enthusiastic to get into this chamber where Shaun Hart is going to be forced to witness good old Johnnie Cav tear his little play toy apart limb by limb. I can’t wait to watch the look on Shaun’s face as I tear away at Justin’s flesh, using every inch of metal inside of that cage to cut deeper and deeper until the world can easily see the white of his goddamn bone!
The look on John’s face grew intense. He wasn’t about to let Shaun Hart and Justin York have their plan work to perfection at Monday Night Mayhem. As a matter of fact, he was willing to do everything in his power to ensure that Shaun and Justin’s little plan to bring the World Championship to The Welcoming Committee was going to go up in flames—Hindenburg style.
John - The saddest part about Justin York though? The saddest part is that this little bastard doesn’t even realize how pathetic he is. Everyone and their uncle can see that this little prick wreaks of desperation. Justin York is desperate to be the IIW World Champion. Now, Justin, you may feel the same exact way regarding myself but that would be the greatest lie you’ve ever spoken. The biggest difference between my thirst for championship glory and yours is that you NEED to win in order to vindicate yourself. You need to find a way to make yourself believe all of the bullshit that reverberates from your vocal chords. Me? I need to win this World Championship but not to vindicate myself. No, see there isn’t one person in this match other than your barely breathing self that takes me lightly, not one person stupid enough to just outright try and write off good old Johnnie Cav. Yet, each opponent you have in this Elimination Chamber has already called your bluff. We all know that The Casino Kid ain’t nobody special. We can all tell that you’re all bark and no bite. Well, you bite but your little Chihuahua powered attacks ain’t gonna do much more than provide a minor annoyance for those of us who find ourselves on the receiving end of your poor excuse for strikes. Justin York is willing to tell anybody that will listen about my how good he is and how nobody can hold his smelly ass jockstrap…and we are all keenly aware why you need to constantly repeat this shit. You need to constantly spew the exact same lies because you NEED yourself to start believing it. Justin York knows that deep down inside, himself and everyone else associated with The Welcoming Committee is nothing more than an overrated clown. That’s right, I said it, I’ve been watching you, I’ve known Fred Debonair for decades, I’ve seen Shaun Hart’s actions since I came to the IIW and yes I have even paid enough attention to Chris Page to realize that all you guys are is a bunch of weak bitches looking to team up to extract a little bit of power and authority. It’s clear as day. All four of you know that you’re all pieces to a puzzle, pieces that without the other three pieces are basically just a steaming pile of dog shit falling out the ass end of a large breed dog.
John shook his head as he took another hit off of his joint. He was having a hard time figuring out exactly what made Justin York feel he was so important. He was the International Champion, sure, but then again, Tyler Debonair had been as well and we can all see he hasn’t exactly lit the world on fire just yet.
John - Justin York can tell himself, he can inflate Shaun and Chris’s egos all he wants but the fact of the matter remains…none of y’all have proven shit to me! Why does it matter if you’ve proven yourself to me? Well, I may not sign your checks and I may not keep you warm at night but in case you haven’t been paying close enough attention to this place before you two decided to waltz in. You know how I know that to be true, Justin? It’s because if you two had been watching, reading or even vaguely paying attention to the IIW you would already know—when it comes to this promotion, this miserable bastard spitting facts is the god damn measure stick! Neither of you little punks have accomplished anything until you’ve been able to say you beat Johnnie Cav. You know who can say that they took a win over Johnnie Cav in the IIW in the last year and change? Three people. That’s it. Jake E. Dangerously, Russell Wayne and, as much as it pains me to admit it, Curtis. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m not perfect, contrary to what the Casino Bitch and Fred Debonair’s long lost brother would have the world believe there isn’t one human being walking this planet who is. While Justin and his buddy Chris may view themselves as the perfect wrestler, the greatest to ever do it, the true World Champion, blah blah blah, copy and paste Ric Flair promo here and insert some words that the advertisers are gonna have a shit fit over because it makes them feel as if they matter. These men aren’t talented, these men haven’t been able to think up one original thought when it comes to me since they got here and yet they’d like to claim they have done me favors? Justin wants to claim that The Welcoming Committee gave Johnnie Cav a free win in that little six man tag team match last Mayhem? See, this is why I know I need to knock over a truck or two and get you not only a Thesaurus but probably cotton swabs as well. I told you, Fred and the three pieces of shit on the opposing side of the ring—I didn’t give a rat’s ass what team won that six man tag team match. I wasn’t in that match to get a win, I ain’t hurting for the dough so what window I collected my paycheck from at the end of the night meant absolutely nothing to this potato eating bastard! I was in that match to study you morons, watch you and Curtis and Tyler and that little undeserving bastard TJ and took some notes on all of your strengths and weaknesses from that match. Why? Because although I know my skill level far surpasses the majority of the locker room, I am intelligent enough to fully comprehend that in order to be THE BEST, you’ve got to constantly learn. See, the professionals in the education system aren’t wrong—learning is a lifelong process. If you stop trying to learn, you’ll fall behind. If you just keep saying the same bullshit over and over again, yes Justin York, you and the other imbeciles in The Welcoming Committee and the fans that don’t know how to use a shower or buy a stick of deodorant will all continue to bask in your self created “glory”. You and that segment of the fan base can continue to believe the same vat of nonsense as long as you want but the problem is Justin York and the rest of The Welcoming Committee, y’all already defeated yourselves.
Cavanagh roasted his joint, he took a few puffs to bring the cherry back to life before blowing the ash off of the joint. The ash flew to the ground, falling slowly yet eventually colliding with the ground, similar to Justin York’s future once he collided inside of the Elimination Chamber with John Cavanagh.
John - That’s right, The One Man Dynasty, might be sounding a little cliche when it comes to that but it’s something that I had to learn the hard way and it took decades for it to occur. If you think you’ve already won the battle before it even began, then trust me everyone, you’ve already lost the goddamn war! See, that’s one of the areas you boys fall far short of my level in. You, Fred, Shaun, Chris…none of you have been through my life, none of y’all could walk a block in my goddamn shoes but yet you all think that you’re better because of some nobody you beat in some other promotion. I won’t continue to waste my breath and energy trying to explain to you, Chris and whatever other idiots can’t figure out anything to say other than what they did elsewhere. Jesus, I could probably take up a full twenty-four hours of IIW programming on Netflix just talking about the battles I’ve been through with just your newest buddy Fred. That’s what you guys really don’t get, some of us here have history with each other and have tussled in or their promotions…so maybe we remind each other, ya know? Like former World Champ Jonny C? I had his number each time we faced off in Canada. Your new, shiny toy, Fred Debonair? Best the piss out of him more times than you and Chris Page can count back in this place called Fearless Championship Wrestling. Yet, you don’t hear me talking about how big my dick is due to those matches. However, we all had to listen to Justin York’s blabber about the Cannibus Cup for a good thirty minutes. I’m not even facing off against that schmuck Chris Page but, yeah, I caught his promo…more of the same. No wonder you guys travel together and contemplate what to do as far as your opponents go. You two shits are sharing the same exact brain! Maybe between the two of you, there might be sufficient brain computing capabilities that you two might be able to graduate from a High School…I don’t know about university entrance exams though, I’m probably giving you guys a bit too much credit on that one.
The One Man Dynasty smiled briefly, he took another hit and blew the smoke through his nostrils.
John - The best part about you though, Justin? You provide the entire locker room with some much needed comic relief. While I may take our industry more serious than most, it is painfully obvious that you and Chris Page are completely out of touch with the reality of the situation. You’ve all done what you’ve done elsewhere, you’ve both attained a few noteworthy accomplishments which I won’t take away from you but yet the way you both attempt to construe yourselves as some larger than life, larger than the IIW, larger than the sport of professional wrestling itself even. The most laughable part of you two, and by extension Shaun Hart and Fred Debonair, not one of us is more important than this industry, not one of us is more important than the World Championship that we will mane our bodies for this Monday night. While Justin York prances around with his ego that just so happens to be bigger than the Empire State Building! You told the world you’ve been saying the same thing since the beginning—that you’re the greatest wrestler in the world. I’ve heard you say how easy it will be to walk into this Elimination Chamber at Monday Night Mayhem and beat us all with little to no effort. Are you kidding me, kid? Anyone with half of a brain will know that this ain’t going to be easy…for anybody. If winning this match was going to be as simple as you claim it to be there wouldn’t be a need for the match. Not only that, you wouldn’t be wasting your time entertaining this matchup. The real question I have is—why in the blue hell would Shaun Hart even bother putting you into the match? Wouldn’t he just simply say “hey, Justin, you did a good job last night here is this new, shiny belt and it’s all for you, keep up the good job buddy!” See, that’s where you’re fucking it all up Justin…you’re just a pawn, you’re nothing special. Shaun Hart doesn’t give a damn about you and Chris Page? That piece of shit doesn’t give a damn about you or Shaun Hart. The three of you, actually check that the four of you as we will toss Freddie Boy under the bud as well, none of you give a shit about the other one. The Welcoming Committee thinks they run the show, they think they’re the hottest act in wrestling, well, they ain’t shit. They’re four miserable brats who all want the SAME thing…to control the IIW World Championship. Don’t you dimwits understand that you’re breeding disloyalty within your ranks? Justin, you have first dibs at this title for one reason and one reason only, so pretty boy Chris Page doesn’t have to get his hands dirty. Shaun Hart is the referee for one reason only…to make sure the World Championship goes with Justin York…so Chris Page doesn’t have to have a REAL opponent to fight for that championship. And Fred? Well, I’ll burst the bubble for you guys since none of you are intelligent enough to do a little homework. Fred is a backstabbing piece of shit, he will tell you he is part of your squad until the moment presents itself where HE can have a World Championship opportunity…and then? He’s going to find a way to get in a match, convince you he’s on your side and find a way to sneak off with your title. Trust me, I know the man, I know how he operates.
The Irishman shook his head back and forth. The idiocy of The Welcoming Committee made him truly worried for their future decision making and where it might lead the four knuckleheads…the trunk of a car, maybe?
John - Now, Justin, once again you are trying to use your impeccable, expansive vocabulary to try and put someone down by just calling them a “bitch”. I’ve been in the ring with Russell Wayne and while I wrote him off similar to how you are back then, it was the wrong thing to do. This is what I mean by the whole, Justin York is full of shit and doesn’t have one coherent thought exiting his mouth. Justin York can claim the International Championship is the premiere championship in the IIW, but, buddy, ask yourself why? Ask yourself why you currently find yourself yelling at the top of your lungs in an attempt to notify the entire world that you are number one. Because you know goddamn well this is the one and only time you will EVER be able to make that claim. You won’t be number one after I pin you to the mat on Monday Night Mayhem, you’ll be forced to see that you’re the number two man according to titles and well, probably the third most important person in The Welcoming Committee. Since you’d be third in line there, and I would be World Champion that makes you, at best, the fourth most important person in the IIW. Damn, how MY International Championship has fallen…when I held that championship it was treated with prestige and honor amongst many of the members of that locker room. While some despised me, they all respected that championship. Everyone despises Justin York, even his mother and that little clam following him around Stacey, and now no one has respect for the International Championship. Why? Simple, why in the blue hell would anyone have respect for a title that is basically a consolation prize? Justin, Shaun and Chris know you’re either not winning the World Championship or that you’re handing it right back over to Chris Page. Shit man, the guys in your own faction don’t even like you…they just like to try and control you.
Cavanagh chuckled, he found it quite amusing how naive Justin York has proven himself to be in the last couple of weeks. He pulled the joint to his mouth, took another hit and continued.
John - Justin, it’s one of the most pathetic stories I have seen since I came to IIW. I see a talent that believes he actually means something to the rest of the roster but yet, you mean absolutely nothing to the men you call your friends, allies, families whatever. See, us in The Celtic Club, we are an actual family. Yes, Trig and I share chromosomes, but Andy isn’t viewed as some second class citizen in the same manner you are. You’re really having a problem grasping that you don’t mean anything to Shaun or Chris. You never have and you never will. If, by some miracle, you happen to walk out of that Elimination Chamber with the World Championship strapped around your waist…you’ll be finding out rather quickly just how much Chris Page and Shaun Hart care about your bitch ass. No one gives a damn about Justin York other than Justin York. No one thinks you’re important, no one thinks you’ve got talent, everyone thinks you’re desperate and a jerk off. I’m sure you don’t give a damn but I figured I would just take a short amount of time to inform you…just because I like being that much of a dick. I mean, why wouldn’t I be that blunt and that honest with someone who tries to act like a smart ass for knowing Wolverine’s government name…like congratulations, you’ve discovered how to use Wikipedia. The man who wants to ask who I am, the man who wants to sit here and pretend as if he’s THAT good to think an Elimination Chamber with five other wrestlers?! My man, I know I enjoy a bit of Mary Jane to relax myself and have a good time but whoever you’re getting your trees from is probably the guy I need to start talking to because I ain’t never met someone as delusional as you. You have got to be higher than the summit of Mt. Everest. After all of that bullshit about some nonsensical tournament called the Cannabis Cup I finally get it. You went to the Cannabis Cup and had the bright idea to try and hang out with the big boys. Justin York decided it would be a clever idea to try and out smoke Snoop Dogg and Cheech and Chong at the same time. Consumed so much of that little green leaf that you think you’re trying to figure out what your name is, eh? Too bad for you that you’ll be in Los Angeles for Monday Night Mayhem, I guess you might get a little to blitted and forget how to make your way down to the arena.
Johnnie laughed as he reached to his side, picking up a joint that he had placed on the bench he sat on. Cavanagh flicked his Bic and lit up his joint. He took a deep drag, an inhale and then a few seconds later he let out a cloud of smoke.
John - As a matter of fact, the simple thought you echoed of Chris Page and Justin York being the money maker in this promotion is laughable. Once again, I reiterate, who the hell do you think you are?! What the hell has Justin York done to really set him apart from the rest of the shitheads walking around the locker room at this very moment? I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to say this—no one gives a damn about Justin York. The only reason you have some semblance of meaning at the very moment is because you occupy one of six slots in the Elimination Chamber this Monday. As a matter of fact, the only reason you hold any weight at the moment is because some, less knowledgeable individuals, are of the opinion that you actually might be able to take this championship back to The Welcoming Committee. While any of us are fools for believing this is going to be easy, as I’ve pointed out to you just a short while ago, this will most definitely not be your night. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, Justin York is NOT leaving Los Angeles as the IIW World Champion. Justin York and the rest of the little pansies in The Welcoming Committee are going to have to cart my body off, wrap it up in a rug, toss it in a trunk and then dig a hole with a little clay and lime before they’re going to be able to pin my shoulders to the mat. You know what that means you little shit? It means you, it means Shaun Hart, it means Chris Page…you’re all leaving Monday Night Mayhem just a little upset with the outcome of that Elimination Chamber.
John rubbed his hands together and spit on the ground. He was about to address one of the most ludicrous statements that Justin York made.
John - Let me get this straight, you’re so full of yourself that you DON’T spend time preparing for your matches? Your infantile mind would prefer to sit and judge people based on their surroundings rather than judging them based on their abilities? You’d rather write off Johnnie Cav as some old, musty, however you described him…because the bar looks that way? Well, I don’t really need to explain the bar to you but I will…it was my father’s, we allowed it to stay the same. But, what is a bit more important is that you aren’t spending the time prepping yourself for the hell on earth you’re about to embark upon. Are you actually a professional wrestler or are you some shithead making videos on YouTube that decided to cross over and got lucky because he was Eifell Towered by Shaun Hart and Chris Page behind the arena a few times? If you’re not preparing your body and pushing yourself to another level prior to each match, well, what the hell are you doing even bothering competing at this level? This ain’t some piece of crap independent promotion running out of some bar like the other joints you were able to dominate. The men walking around this locker room ain’t the soft skinned little cunts that you faced in the Cannabis Cup. The five people you find yourself batting in the Eimination Chamber are NOT going to let you walk out all nice and “easy” like your convoluted ass believes. I guess this promotion must have been dying to get some talent in the door while I was gone to let you and your superior take hold and act like your shit doesn’t stink every show. Shaun must have been really desperate to up those viewership numbers on Netflix with The One Man Dynasty absent that he must have just thrown his arms up in the air and said to hell with it I’m just gonna let these two run the show—I’ve lost my sanity and all ability to control the locker room. A Jonny No Balls Knockoff? How cute and original you must think you are. See, boys and girls, this is what happens when people without the proper mental facilities spread themselves too thin…they just regurgitate shit that they’ve heard from OTHER wrestlers in OTHER promotions. Now, while you may have committed that Cardinal sin of being a completely lackluster promo, you’ve also committed the sin of just copying and pasting someone else’s words…again! Now, as if that wasn’t enough laughable bullshit to come out of your mouth regarding myself you want to call me a knockoff or Jonny C? Buddy, do a little research, read up on a little history…when I was a guest of the State it was one of my favorite topics to read about, I’m sure you would do better with coloring books but that’s neither here nor there. It wasn’t that long ago Jonny C was trying to dethrone me in another promotion, but, at the risk of sounding hypocritical I’ll drop it. When Johnnie Cav stepped foot in this promotion you know what Jonny C wanted? Jonny C wanted to square off with Johnnie Cav in the ring here…because he knew that this Irish bastard, regardless of my age Sonny, is the goddamn measuring stick! Johnnie Cav is the man you see in the ring to prove what it is that you’re exactly made of. If you knuck up with this bastard and walk away victorious OR walk away failing but gaining my respect…then everyone in this business knows that you mean something. You on the other hand? You are just a little insignificant leech that will never amount to anything greater than a one and done IIW International Champion. The type of talent who has a ceiling of being Chris Page’s sidekick. The type of wrestler who fancies himself the greatest to ever do it but yet has never been in the ring with Johnnie Cav. The type of little punk to run his mouth over and over again and still never deliver a goddamn word of substance! You wanted to try and sum me up by judging my surroundings…well, there you have it you pissant, you’ve been judged by your actions since I have returned to this promotion. While you sit here calling out people like Jonny C and Jake E. Dangerously you fail to realize that they’re so far ahead of you in this profession that it would not be beneficial for them to face off against you. What the hell does it gain Jonny C or Jake E. Dangerously to waste their time with you? They’re not going to get any rub off of facing you…they’re not going to get an extra big pay day…why do you think I am just now facing you? I’ve heard you screaming for attention is desperation to be seen as something worth their weight in gold when it’s blatantly obvious that your bitch ass isn’t even worth its weight in salt. It’s funny how you can continue to ramble on more and more yet still never get to your goddamn point. You want to continuously say how good you are, how I’m not shit, how easy this will be for you yet you never met explain why. You never prove why you think you’re this good…so, when Monday Night Mayhem happens and you find yourself on the outside looking in at Johnnie Cav holding the IIW World Championship. Keep it going buddy, if you’re lucky you might get the consolation prize of losing a few pounds after this Eimination Chamber when the chief of staff of IIW’s medical staff decides your jaw needs to be wired shut after I break it.
Cavanagh went back to his joint and took another hit. He took a moment to gather his thoughts.
As far as I’m concerned that’s enough when it comes to Justin York. The time of my life that I’ve already wasted talking about him is agonizing enough. Allow me to speak on the other four miscriants in this match. When it comes to Sean Raines and TJ Alexander I feel as if I’ve already exhausted everything I have to say about them. TJ is an undeserving bastard, he doesn’t belong in this match and shouldn’t have been presented with the opportunity to enter the Elimination Chamber. Sean Raines, this is a man capable of pure domination of those opposing him but yet the poor bastard is in desperate need of some serious guidance. I will see you two, our little shithead Justin as well as the silent Curtis and Tyler Debonair at the Elimination Chamber this Monday. Best of luck boys.
The scene cut to static.
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Post by "Casino Kid" Justin York on Aug 6, 2022 22:40:09 GMT
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