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Post by Shaun Hart on Nov 14, 2022 19:17:24 GMT
Main Event World Heavyweight Championship Triple Threat Match Blade Alexander vs Crush vs John Cavanagh (c)
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Crush
Junior Member
Posts: 57
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Post by Crush on Nov 21, 2022 2:36:36 GMT
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Post by Blade Alexander on Nov 27, 2022 20:18:14 GMT
“Indulge me while I start off with a little bit of a story” We find Blade Alexander alone, dressed in a white suit. The room around him seems nice like a private room at a restaurant or a very nice private box at an arena.
“A long time ago, over twenty years ago my dad was a professional wrestler. For most of you this isn't news but it's probably more than Crush or John Cavanagh would look into, but what they know isn't important yet.” “What's important about my dad is that around this time he was building his own name in this business and came across this little promotion in Detroit trying to carve it's own path. It's one of those times that you could say it's fate if you believe in such a thing. In that company my dad won his first World Championship in the business and that company skyrocketed, at least while he was there. That promotion: IIW.” He reclines back in the padded off chair he's sitting on and smirks.
“No not THIS IIW, but still. It was enough that many years later when an envelope with a contract for IIW, our IIW found its way into my mail, I took note. The rest they could say is history, but we're going to dig up some of that history because someone needs a lesson.” “The guy that shouldn't need a lesson is our current World Champion, John Cavanagh. Now I'd like to say that he's being clever, sitting back giving his opponents enough proverbial rope to hang ourselves with, but for any of us who have been following along, we know that's just not true. Good ol' Johnny Cav is more of a slacker than that. If it's not the last minute then he's just not ready yet. We're not going to hold that against him because when the bell rings, he's pretty good.” “Your welcome, by the way, Cav. Without me you would be hiding your head in shame at not just an embarrassing beat-down by the job squad after the main event of Mayhem, but you'd also have to hang your hat on a loss to them too. But, luckily for you, you had a partner with the wits and focus enough to actually get the job done while you and the stooges you like to play Sopranos LARP with were capering around at ringside. It's bad enough you actually think anyone cares about your little hobby or thinks that having a little gang like you're living during the prohibition era is still cool, but loosing to the generic flunkies of Ryan Hawkins? That's an embarrassment that no amount of big shiny gold belts can get you out of.” He glances at his left shoulder and shrugs. He then glances at his right and shrugs. Finally, he stands and undoes his suit jacket to find nothing but an ordinary black dress belt around his waist. “It seems like I've just pointed out a big weakness, right? Out of the guys in the Explosion main event, here I am with no big shiny gold belt that says World Champion around my waist. John Cavanagh at least carries OUR belt to the ring, claiming to all that he's the IIW World Heavyweight Champion.” “Who did you beat for that belt, John?” “Oh yeah, THAT guy.” “Thanks for shutting him up and sending him on his way, by the way. The only thing worse than having to suffer a loud mouth douche-bag celebrate himself each and every week on TV is having to do it from your own home because he's got a General Manager in his back pocket who's keeping you at home so you can't come to work and embarrass his Twitter friends in front of the world. It took you a while but eventually you ran them all off and we're all the better for it.” “That doesn't make you the champion though.” “You remember that saying right? The one this business is known for? Of course, you do. See you didn't beat the man, you just snuck in from the back, fouled up one match in an Elimination Chamber, then got a second go at it. You beat a guy not good enough to be champion in his home promotion, so he had to come here and have the GM hand him the title and he's so good he still found a way to fuck that up and you BARELY beat him.” “You didn't however, beat Russel Wayne, who you all fear so much that you had to have a cabal take him out to get him out of the way. Coming from where you are I don't blame you, the last time you faced him he embarrassed you.” “There seems to be a lot of that going around these days in IIW.” He takes a moment to compose his thoughts.
“Since we're talking about it, let's talk about that other embarrassment with a belt. Crush. First of all, Crush, are you even vaguely aware of how stupid you are when you open your mouth? I hope you know it, because I'm sure going to point it out.” “First of all, Mister 'I don't need a gimmick', 'King of Extreme' is a fucking gimmick. Secondly, so is Crush, because I'm sure your parents didn't actually name you Crush like your Cher, which by the way isn't her full name. That means you had to make that up to give yourself something to be marketable, and in the infinite wisdom of one who was so inevitably born to do this you just randomly decided to pick out of the ether that your ring name should just so happen to be the same as a mediocre wrestler from the mid 90's. A time at which you were wrestling, I might add. Which means not only did you just happen to pick his ring name, at a time when he was still wrestling, but you did so knowingly to steal some of his clout and draw attention to yourself. You could throw yourself on a card and have someone see it and say, 'Oh there's that guy that was part of Demolition' and have them see you.” “That's layers of disappointment no one should have to experience.” “But this would be a building theme in your career, wouldn't it? Trying to sell yourself as something you're not so that people wouldn't notice how blindingly mediocre you are.” “Better find a seat kiddies, this could be a longer one.” “So first you bill yourself on this notion that you don't have a gimmick, even though we just covered how every bit of your names is entirely a gimmick. Not only that, but you even have catch phrases. Shitty catch phrases. But let's just drive that point home based on something else you keep saying over and over. How great you are in the ring. If you were close to HALF as good as you think you are in the ring, then you wouldn't have you little King of Extreme name because you'd be King of the Ring or something else as wholly original. Don't scratch your head thinking about it, I'll explain. If you were that great in the ring your actual wrestling skill would be as synonymous with your work as going to extremes.” “And while you think you're so hardcore, chew on this little nugget for a minute. In the not-too-distant past I took a piece of metal to the eye of my own boss for SOMEONE ELSE'S gain. It wasn't even for something I cared about. And since you're as new and innocent as a baby deer around here, the man who's eye I was very much set to remove was Osh Vaghaun. The very man who named me for this match.” “Meanwhile you got picked because Shaun Hart couldn't pick one of his own guys. Not that it would matter, but still, it must wound that immense pride to know that you were the top of the rest. Not the best, not deserving, just the best of the bad bunch. Without John's crew, the Originals, or even whatever Shaun's group is telling calling themselves, it was pretty much you or Stoner.” “And Shaun's judgment has always been questionable at best. Out of all the people he could have chosen he pick you, fresh off losing whatever midcard title they made up to give you a belt and make you feel important, to Freddy Debs of all people. You're so great and inevitable and so born to do this you came up short on the over the hill token guy who usually gets tossed into these matches to take the fall.” “Guess what your roll in this match is by the way? Take a good honestly look at what you're in the ring with and really tell yourself you're not. The one title you had here you lost as quick as you got it to a guy that John Cavanagh has for breakfast. You carry another companies World title on your shoulder to make yourself feel more important, but no one here, no one watching our shows gives a crap about your belt. You're not making yourself look better, you're making that company look worse. Sure, you raise the value of that belt walking into the main event of our pay per view, but what about when you walk out? When you walk out of Mayhem without your IIW midcard title on one shoulder, but that belt on the other you make it look worse. Bringing that belt to our main event makes it look good, but when you walk out but nothing but defeat you make that company's title look like less.” “The truth is it's less and every fan and even the man that holds it knows that. Every title is worth less, that's why you came here in the first place. You cut a promo for our match that sounds a lot more like a pep talk to yourself than a promo so you can get your head around the fact that you stick out like a sore thumb in this match. You talk about how little I've done, when I bring out the best in everyone that dares step in that ring with me, when everyone I beat just shows how you've only faced the lowest rung here, when people still talk about my accomplishments daily. When people walk out on your match to buy my shirt, you convince yourself that what you do matter.” “The last time I held a title in IIW they had to close the fed, run a tournament and it STILL took them seven guys, a crooked ref and a gross misuse of power by Osh to get it out of my hands. That was all just for the tag team titles. The ONLY time I was in a World Title match it took Osh's nephew Jay and the best champion this business has yet to see to give me the only real loss I've had in an IIW ring.” “And before any of you try to get on me about that one, you've both more matches and for far less than I did. In fact, in your case John, you tried it and came up short against the same guy, speaking of real World Champions.” “What neither of you want to openly admit, but we all know, is that I'm THE best wrestler in the world today. Explosion isn't about me finally climbing the ladder and taking the World Championship. It's about me sending the same statement I have since Osh took off Shaun Hart's shackles and put me back in the game.” “I didn't get my spot in this match because I'm someone's favorite. I didn't get it for any favors I've done. I got this spot because he knew I EARNED it. In spite of what I've done to him personally in the past, Osh KNEW I'm the best fucking wrestler in this company, on this earth and at Explosion I'm going to prove it. I'm not going to fluke out and beat one of you or the other. I don't care about either of you, I care about MY title. Have all the belts you want, it doesn't make me any less the best, and not having the IIW World Championship around my waste only serves to expose you two as the frauds you are.” He takes a moment to take off his jacket and loosen his tie.
“But it doesn't end there. At Explosion I'm going to stack you both up and beat you both to prove to everyone where the best in this business is and to think twice before they want to come to IIW and try to make it into some bad joke. I'm sick and tired of seeing the untalented shameless promoters who think they're good come and try to step on my toes. I'm tired of being in my prime in this business and sitting at home because the people coming into IIW with all the fanfare and red carpets need to be protected from real competition because their egos are HUGE, and their talent is tiny.” “But see it's more than that. I've got to beat the both of you just to stay alive in IIW. With Osh gone it's the Shaun Hart shit show. If I don't establish my place and let John just get the easy win over Crush then John's mediocrity flies high as the banner of IIW excellence, Crush deludes himself into thinking he belongs in the main event and Shaun has every reason to bench me again and keep quality off his show.” “For the two of you, when you lose, nothing changes. Neither of you are a real threat. Maybe you John, but you've got yourself a nice little gang to back you up. Crush, well you just prove you're the disappointment everyone knows you to be, but I lose out. With the World Title not only will I be the best wrestler on the planet, but I'll be a World Champion and Shaun CAN'T bench that. Not only can't he push that aside, but he also knows after seeing firsthand everything that Osh went through since IIW has been reopened, after seeing everything I put him through, Shaun Hart knows he can't take that title from me.” “No one rebuilds IIW but those that are fit for it, and IIW will never be the breeding ground for mediocrity. You want to succeed here you can't just talk a big game and hope people believe it, hope you believe it. You have to back it up.” “I've literally hung for this company. At Explosion there's nothing I won't do to get what I want. Coming from me those aren't just the words of an empty threat, I've proven myself and what I'll willing to not just dish out but also take. This time I'm taking the IIW World Heavyweight Championship. Fade.
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Post by The Celtic Club on Nov 29, 2022 21:42:05 GMT
The IIW Netflix was greeted by the sound and sight of static which quickly disappeared to reveal the current reigning IIW World Champion, “The One Man Dynasty” John Cavanagh, standing behind the bar at The Blarney Stone Pub & Grill. Off to John’s right hand side sat a bottle of his favorite spirit, whiskey–Jameson to be exact, with a shot glass placed next to it. John stared down towards the glistening championship that rested upon the top of the bar. The letters “IIW” emblazoned with gold trim and diamonds encrusting the lettering. It was a sight to behold, a sight to cherish, a prize to yearn for and a prize to spill your own blood for. This was all that mattered now…John Cavanagh: You see this?John looked down at the glistening championship belt located directly underneath him on top of the bar. John Cavanagh: This is a prize that many people lust for, yet very few individuals ever have the ability to attain it and call it their own. This championship belt, the precious metals, the stones, the leather that binds the plates together–it’s a symbol. This beauty right here symbolizes many things: the IIW, Osh Vaughan’s insanely deep pockets, a champion…but more so than that, it symbolizes grit, determination, ambition and dominance. This championship belt had a bit of a stain fall over it not too long ago. A stain that occurred the moment Russell Wayne was forced to vacate this championship due to an injury. A stain that continued to fester, and bleed to other parts of the championship with each passing addition of Monday Night Mayhem. A stain that was damn near impossible to remove as evidenced by an Elimination Chamber where an official was CLEARLY in the pockets of a group called the CCPE. The stain on this beauty was an unbearable sight, so much so that good old Johnnie Cav took it upon himself to not only rescue the damsel in distress but to also be the one to resolve the issue of said stain. Cavanagh paused for a moment and sucked his front teeth. He collected his thoughts, he wanted to be sure to get his point across.John Cavanagh: So what did this Irish son of a bitch from the West Side of Manhattan do? Johnnie Boy went to Detroit, Johnnie Cav went into enemy territory and did EXACTLY what he said he would do–he left as your brand new IIW World Heavyweight Champion! And whatever became of that stain? Well, the stain that was on the championship was removed as quickly as a fresh stain with a Tide to Go pen the moment I hoisted this beauty above my head. Maybe there were other moving parts to that moment but in the end, the outcome is the same…stain removed, glory restored and it all came at the hands of the same prick that everyone in this locker room never wanted to see return again. Myself, Trig, Andy…we all began our tenure as contracted IIW talent on the “wrong side of the tracks” so to speak. See, when we poked our heads into this promotion–there wasn’t one person who was happy to see us. Not one of the boys in the locker room wanted The Celtic Club parading around here, why? Because each and every single one of them was fully aware of our capabilities. People saw their chances at the top prizes in this company shrivel up and die like a raisin sitting in the Sun. So many members of this organization hoped that when FCPW closed down Johnnie and the rest of The Celtic Club wind find greener pastures anywhere…but here. People like Jonny C, Jake E. Dangerously, Blade Alexander, Russell Wayne, ad nauseum they all were fully aware of what was destined to happen the moment I signed my John Hancock on that contract that Osh Vaughan presented me with.
The One Man Dynasty looked down towards the IIW World Championship once more, he kept his focus for a few moments before returning his face to the camera with a slight smirk on the right side of his mouth.John Cavanagh: Speaking of Osh Vaughan, let me share my feelings on that subject. Osh, we all know that you’re one hell of a businessman, you built the deep roster that I encountered upon my arrival to the IIW. Osh Vaughan and the roster he had acquired as the reason why Johnnie Cav found his home in the IIW. Johnnie Cav could have laid his cap down in a piss ant promotion like the NPW but where would the fun in winning their top prize be when there was nobody worth getting into a tussle with? I could have stayed there in the NPW until I took home XHF’s top prize but after being crowned Iron Man in their annual battle royal, I realized that the talent pool wasn’t anywhere near as deep as it actually seemed. So Johnnie came running when Osh came calling–it was time for this bastard to hold the only championship he needed. See, I’ve been all over just like so many people, held championships here and there–some more important than others–but in the end, this bad boy that you created, Osh, this son of a bitch was the cherry on top of the sundae, the jewel in the crown if you will…if I was the British Empire this championship was my India! This prize kept calling my name, it kept pulling me back to this place, attracting me as a gnat is attracted to a lightbulb in the dead of night. So, Osh, you used it to your advantage and made sure to get my name on that dotted line. Unfortunately for Osh, he wouldn’t get to maintain control of his creation even long enough to see me resurrect his secondary title from the ashes because his dumbass lost control of his company!
The Irishman from Hell’s Kitchen paused briefly. He rubbed his hands together, up and down before continuing his train of thought. John Cavanagh: Osh, I’m not trying to be mean…I’m not trying to single you out buddy, what I’m trying to do is open your eyes to the lunacy that has occurred in this promotion since you had me sign on the dotted line. I have witnessed you lose control of this company, the resurrection of the International Championship, the prestige of the World Championship and it’s epic fall from grace, taking part in winning you this company back and then after that whole laundry list of bullshit was completed? I just went on ahead and rid this place of a cancer that should have been caught in its infantile stages–unfortunately your replacement was a bit too “blinded by the light” to understand what was happening all around him. Now, here we find ourselves Osh, the owner of the IIW and the IIW’s one hope for a return to normalcy–and we find ourselves at odds. Maybe “at odds” is a bit strong but it’s clear that Osh Vaughan’s vision for this company might have not been good old Johnnie Cav sitting at the summit of the mountain…or was it? I mean, let’s face it, I’m sure Blade Alexander and his infinite, infallible wisdom will bring up that Johnnie Cav said he would be World Champion the moment he arrived–so maybe Osh Vaughan knew that this was the way the story was meant to be written from the word “go”. Maybe I’m too hard on you, Osh, maybe we both had the same plan the day you reached out to me but we both had different visions of how it would be attained.The blonde haired Irishman paused, he rubbed his right hand against the stubbles of his chin. “Did Osh sign me to be the World Champion or did Osh sign me for name value?”, “Did Osh get what he wanted at Red Alert?”, these and many more questions floated through Cavanagh’s head. He was unsure of the answers but he did know one thing: the answers to these questions were immaterial at best, the only thing that mattered was the present…here and now. John Cavanagh: I’ve done some bad things in life, there is absolutely nothing I can do to change that. There are some very questionable acts I’ve committed as well, and I’m not ashamed of those. But, when push came to shove and when the IIW needed someone to save it from the depths of hell, when this company and promotion needed someone to ensure that it didn’t find itself on a self-destructive path from which it could never return, the IIW was given it’s hero…a hero it never thought it needed or wanted! If you look at my track record the last thing one would expect is for Johnnie Cav to be waving the flag of anything other than The Celtic Club. I’m sure Osh never expected Johnnie Boy to be the knight in shining armor to save the kingdom from the invading hordes but, ya know, someone had to handle that situation while Osh Vaughan was busy blowing his trust fund. Somebody needed to man the fuck up and carry the IIW on it’s back while people like Jonny C, Jay Vaughan and Blade Alexander licked their wounds from the comfort of their own homes–probably because the so called “originals” knew that they didn’t have what it takes to get the job done. Maybe Johnnie Cav wasn’t the image that Osh and company had in their head when they thought about the quintessential World Champion to represent this promotion, but guess what boys? I’m the son of a bitch you’ve got…and I’m the son of a bitch that is going to bring this promotion into the next calendar year. I’m the leader that the IIW was so desperately in need of and the man to bring this locker room to its next level. If the boys and girls watching at home thought that the competition level here in the IIW was something to behold right now, just wait as the calendar flips to 2023 and the entire world realizes that they are about to begin living in the true era of The Celtic Club here in IIW. John reached to his side and poured himself a shot of Jameson, the amber liquid quickly filled the void that was found inside of the shot glass. Cavanagh lifted the glass to his face and just as quickly as it was poured, it disappeared. Cavanagh filled another shot as he looked to the camera.John Cavanagh: IIW has been, and will continue to be, the definition of greatness in the industry of professional wrestling. Johnnie Cav has been, and will continue to be, the measuring stick in this promotion and therefore the measuring stick for an entire industry. I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, regardless of who the IIW wants to put in my path–Johnnie Cav is going to be the one to knock them down. When I came to this promotion I said my eyes were on Jake E. Dangerously and the IIW World Heavyweight Championship. Sure, I may have gotten a little sidetracked along the way, I may have been a bit preoccupied with the International Championship and an old foe of mine, but, every single one of the wrestlers in the locker room knew that at some point, one day, John Cavanagh was going to have his day as World Champion. It was written in stone because the talent pool was lacking around here, nah that wasn’t the case, it was written in stone because Johnnie Cav spoke the words and put it out into the Universe. That’s right, Johnnie Cav is going to get all Middle School Guidance Counselor on you boys now with some Mindset lessons. All it takes is the power of positive thinking and you’ll get what you want. That and your prayers and vitamins, brother! No, in all reality, it took some breaks. It took some pitfalls and it sure as hell took some detours but at the end of the story–we all wound up just where this mick from Manhattan’s West Side said we would be. No matter how much a certain someone said it couldn’t happen and no matter how much Shaun Hart tried to stop it–it’s like he’s Mr. McMahon and I’m some dude called Stone Cold that you all may have heard about before. Well, we all know how that one turned out… John Cavanagh: Yeah, kind of like that. I guess Shaun Hart had quite a few things in common with good old Vinny Mac at Red Alert. Watching as the prized possession he yearned for walked out of the arena with the horse that he didn’t back. Oh, well, enough about that…I’ve given Shaun and the nameless pion enough time for one promo.John grabbed the shot glass he had previously poured and tossed another one down the hatch. He slammed the glass back onto the bar counter before filling it once more. Cavanagh hoisted the IIW World Championship up from the bar and placed it neatly on his right shoulder. John Cavanagh: So, now that we have revisited the events of the past, I’d say that it is finally time to look towards the future. The future that was set in stone when Osh Vaughan elected to give Blade Alexander a title opportunity. Now, I know, all of the fans at home and myself included wanted to know…why wasn’t it Jonny C? Why not let the guy who defended this belt the most times try and take it away from Johnnie Cav? Welp. But, that isn’t even the end of the story. Osh goes on to tell Shaun to select someone who wasn’t involved with that cesspool known as the CCPE. So, now you’ve got this poor bastard handcuffed and instead of picking J Mont or Fred Debonair, ya know a match that might have been worth seeing, he goes to the kitchen cabinet and grabs himself a little box of Crush. Whatever that is! So, we could have have Explosion light the wrestling world on fire with a main event triple threat of Johnnie Cav defending the IIW World Championship against Jonny C and, fuck it let’s get historical, Fred Debonair and instead we are left with Cavanagh, Blade and Crush? John Cavanagh: I can’t exactly blame the fans at home if they feel a little let down, a little underwhelmed. Ain’t this supposed to be the big one? Ain’t Explosion supposed to be the show that people talk about until the next year’s Explosion and all you guys manager to get together was Crush and Blade Alexander?! I can ALMOST forgive Shaun’s pick of an opponent since he wasn’t allowed to use his normal crush but Osh, my man, why?! I can’t wait until the next time I get to face somebody like Jonny, Jake or Fred and they try and cut me down by saying my first two defenses should be stricken from the record books because they were against El Landerson and the Crush Alexander squadron! Cavanagh ran his fingers through his full head of hair, grabbing at the back of his head momentarily before taking a deep breath. John Cavanagh: Whatever, let it be Johnnie, you can only control so much. Ain’t that the fucking truth, sad as it may be. Well, now that all of the cards are on the table I guess it’s time for us to get the good old run down. Guess it’s time for the boys and girls at home to hear Johnnie Cav rant and rave about the man spearheading the IIW Originals and, um, Crush?John Cavanagh: So, first and foremost, I wanted to address something that was said by one of my opponents on a recent addition of Monday Night Mayhem. This is the opponent I mentioned earlier, the guy who thinks he knows everything, that token annoying know it all asshole that nobody likes…ever. Yeah, Blade Alexander, that guy, you all knew who I was talking about. See, Blade you decided to point out that I had the chance to win the World Championship from Jake E. Dangerously and when I failed I went back to squaring off against my old rival Tyler Debonair. Let me refresh your memory a bit Blade, I beat the ever loving piss out of that little cunt Tyler, took the International Championship from him and he went running behind his daddy, Fred Debonair, my actual long time rival. Tyler, Fred, a small error but an error nonetheless. Now, this may be a minute mistake, it may be a small blip on the radar, hell it may even be excusable but what it does show the world–is just how fallible Blade Alexander is. For a guy that walks around with the same air of douchebag that a police officer holds it’s pretty ironic that you wouldn’t do that list bit of investigating, ya know cross the t’s and dot the i’s type of deal. Someone with that much arrogance to feel as if he knows the story of Johnnie Cav but can’t even get all of the details correct…is that really the type of person that can end Johnnie Cav’s reign? I wouldn’t think so. A small mind fart like this, they tend to lead to bigger mental lapses…you all there up top Blade? All the chair shots in your lifetime finally starting to take its toll? Early onset dementia? Of course, you’ll say no, you’ll say I’m blowing something insignificant out of proportion and you very well may be correct but the fact of the matter remains…the know it all, doesn’t, in fact, know it all.Cavanagh smiled as his shoulder rolled, momentarily catching one of the many diamonds in the World Championship, sending a perfect sparkle in the direction of the camera. John Cavanagh: I know this must be a painful fact for you to come to grips with, Blade, but you’re just not a walking encyclopedia, and that’s ok none of us are, but maybe don’t parade around as if you were. Maybe don’t walk around as if your shit doesn’t stink when you forgot to wipe your left ass cheek. The one ounce of respect I had for you was that you, along with the other Originals, decided to come down and help me with that beat down at the end of Red Alert. I’ve been known to be a prick from time to time but shit, I gotta give credit where credit is due…props. Cavanagh lifted the shot of Jameson from the bar. Johnnie saluted the camera as if Blade Alexander were present in The Blarney Stone and took his third shot of the promo. He put the glass back down without filling it.John Cavanagh: Well, that’s where all of the pleasantries end. I did actually think for a split second that myself and you might have been able to coexist, if not even have some form of a shaky alliance since we both shared a common enemy but then that enemy kind of hit the dusty trail, didn’t he? Is that why you did it, Blade? Is that why a man who is so well known for his superkick was able to pull off a picture perfect, beautiful, Shawn Michaels saying “I Love You” superkick that happened to “accidentally” connect with my jaw? I mean, yeah, it could have been an accident but I don’t buy it. The dim wit color commentators even made mention on that Mayhem that you were a master of the maneuver and yet you weren’t able to hit the brakes when you saw that the intended target had dropped to the mat? I call bullshit! I know a hustle when a see one, Blade, and you ain’t gonna out hustle the hustler. Maybe the intended target got out of harm’s way but you took that liberty to try and catch me off guard. You took that split second of Johnnie Cav having his guard down to connect with one hell of a shot. My jaw was stiff for a few days after that one, not gonna lie. While it may not be the move you call on to win your matches, it's safe to say that it’s one hell of a tool that you can whip outta your shed at any given moment. A lesser man, ya know like Crush, it would probably put him down for the three count. So, maybe in that respect, I do need to watch out for that kick–and not just when you’re coming at me with it. While I was livid that night, I’m ecstatic to know that I took that shot when I did. Why? It gives me a better understanding of the field of battle at Explosion. While I’m sure Blade still has some tricks up his sleeve, it’s always good to see one or two revealed before our date with destiny arrives.John looked at the bottle of Jameson, he poured himself yet another shot. He screwed the top back onto the green bottle as he brought his eyes back to the camera. John Cavanagh: And that date with destiny isn’t exactly far off, Blade. We are but a mere handful of days away from Explosion. In under one week Blade and I do battle, with Crush probably laying in a corner telling anyone who will listen that he’s still the ECE Champion…let’s not get sidetracked Johnnie Boy, we will get to Crush soon enough. For now, I need to continue to focus my thoughts on Blade Alexander although I’m sure Blade wishes I would just shut my mouth. Blade and I, we are two different people, one of us is far superior to the other and unfortunately for Mr. Alexander, he seems to think he is the superior force. The reality of the situation is that the thought of Blade Alexander leaving Explosion as your new IIW World Heavyweight Champion is laughable at best. Blade Alexander has been hiding underneath a rock for the past few months while the CCPE has been having their way with the IIW like a Letterman with a drunk virgin on prom night and all Blade Alexander did was sit there and let it all play out. You’re as pathetic as the loyalists that fled to Canada after the British were kicked out of the Colonies. The type of human being to pack up their shit and flee and the first sight of struggle rather than dig the trenches and prepare yourself for a long, arduous battle for what you believe is correct. It really is a crying shame when the most righteous person in an entire professional wrestling promotion is Johnnie Cav. It’s amazing to think that around two years ago Johnnie Cav was public enemy number one in this bitch and now, well, he might still be public enemy number one because of the championship he holds but–he’s also basically the new Founding Father whether Blade Alexander likes it or not. Not putting those who came before me down, we all learn from history or we are doomed to repeat it, however, it’s clear to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that Johnnie Cav has EASILY earned his place on the IIW’s Mount Rushmore. And what other faces would grace that mountainside? I’d say right next to me, regardless of how painful it may be for me to admit, you’re going to have a Jonny C and a Jake E. Dangerously–the fourth? Shit, I can’t be certain…Russell Wayne? Maybe that ball of joy Curtis? Shit, maybe even Osh Vaughan but ya know who definitely ain’t gonna be on that Mount Rushmore? Blade Alexander. That’s right Blade, for all of the time you put in for this company, for all of your blood, sweat and tears, when push came to shove you did NOTHING for this company. You did zilch to help the situation that Osh Vaughan found himself in, you forgot that this company even existed when it was time to make sure some pompous douche nugget never held the most prized possession in our sport! No, you were too busy sitting poolside, sipping on a Strawberry Daiquiri, stroking your own ego while trying to figure out how you could put a little more respect on your name when you returned. Well, Blade, if it wasn’t for me…you’d be returning to a toxic work environment, so, with that being said…you’re welcome.The IIW World Champion shook his head back and forth for a moment before continuing.John Cavanagh: As a matter of fact you’re welcome for more than that. You’re welcome for even having a workplace to return to! If it weren’t for the events that transpired at Red Alert–there’s a good chance that the IIW wouldn’t even exist anymore. There is a possibility that you would be wrestling in some far off bingo hall for cents on the dollar that Osh Vaughan pays you because the CCPE would have controlled this place and ran this bitch right into the ground! Without the risk of sounding redundant, I’ll move on and only say this once more…you’re welcome.Cavanagh chuckled under his breath for a few seconds before licking his lips and bringing his focus back to the camera. John Cavanagh: Well, that takes care of one of these two “challengers”, I guess that means I’ve got to move on, right? Well, for those of you who have problems sleeping…get ready because I have to talk about Crush now which will probably leave you all drooling on a pillow, balls deep in the rapid eye movement portion of your sleeping cycle. Maybe that was a little harsh, it is me speaking now…not Crush. Even when the topic of conversation is something as mundane and inconsequential as Crush, I can captivate the crowd and keep their attention. So, let’s get to it shall we? The man Crush, the man who fancies himself some kind of important figure in this industry, toting around some championship gold…for some promotion that no one has ever heard of. As a matter of fact, Crush, outside of yourself and your steroid filled brother, PG-13, who the hell has ever heard of or competed for the ECE?John Cavanagh: Please, for the love of everything holy do not answer that question Crush…it was one hundred percent rhetorical. It truly is a sad turn of events when Shaun Hart is almost forced to give a championship opportunity to a human being who has fantasized and created a promotion in his brain so that he can parade around and call himself a World Champion. Crush, what the hell does that piece of tin that you tote around with you everywhere even mean? It’s almost like Ted DiBiase with the Million Dollar Championship for all of that time. For so much time, he called himself a champion but in reality…he was not. In all actuality, while the championship he held may have been an iconic piece of professional wrestling history, the truth of the matter is–it meant nothing. So, while you dance around as if you’re someone special and important… John Cavanagh: Just remember that the entire locker room sees nothing more than a clown each time you step out of that curtain claiming to be the ECE Champion. We all get a kick out of the wig and the makeup of a champion that you wear because of how desperately you desire the approval of your peers.John Cavanagh: I’ll keep it one hundred with you Crush, no one is going to take you seriously…ever. We all sit around and laugh at your imaginary championship, we all thought your brother Poltergeist Gary was a joke and I haven’t heard much about that washed up comedy act since I sent him packing prior to the Elimination Chamber. Maybe that should have been a bit of a heads up for you, Crush, maybe Johnnie Cav making PG-13 tap out in the center of the ring should have been enough for you to realize that your gene pool doesn’t have what it takes to hang with good old Johnnie Cav. Maybe it’s me, really, maybe we can trace all of this back to Pop Dukes himself, the patriarch of the Cavanagh family. See, when I was a wee little Johnnie Boy my father did his best to instill in myself, and Trigger, that we are better than the average guy walking the streets. What has that equated to? That has equated to good old Johnnie Cav gladly stating his superiority to other athletes when we are in the same matchup. Why? Because that’s what we do. We compare ourselves to our allies as well as our opponents. See, I need to know what Blade Alexander and yourself have to offer, Crush. I like to be as aware as possible of what kind of battle I’m heading into. I like to be fully capable of having all of my bases covered. I would prefer to be aware of all of the strengths and weaknesses that my opponents have. I already let the world in on the little secret weakness that our common opponent has–that being Blade Alexander’s ability to think he is infallible and all knowing. You, Crush? What might your weakness be…John Cavanagh: I think it’s pretty clear that Crush’s imagination is his greatest weakness. The man who was drinking some orange soda at his training school and decided “Crush” that’s what I’ll call myself. The man who paid for and created his own championship just so he can walk around pretending to be a champion. See, when what we crave is the approval of our peers–we are willing to go to any lengths to obtain it. Whether that be good or bad for ourselves, it is what it is. So, Crush, with your original ring name, your “coveted” championship, your wrestling lineage, and whatever other crock of shit you want to cook up–none of that matters to me. So, while Fanta, I mean Crush, is prancing around the IIW in his ECE World Champion Halloween Costume…Johnnie Cav has been getting to work and getting shit done! Johnnie Cav has been setting an example for everyone else in that locker room, for every young kid looking to break into this industry, for every fan sitting at home wishing they could have their moment in the Sun as a World Champion–that’s what I do! I set the example, I chose the path, I am the one driving the goddamned car to its location and people like Blade Alexander and Crush are just lucky enough to be able to get themselves a seat on the ride. Crush, maybe I sound a little harsh, maybe I’m going a little hard on you and Blade–nah, fuck that, I think I’m at the precise point where I need to be in order to drive the point home to you two knuckleheads. No one in this company would have been able to do what I did the last few months, that includes you two. No one in this company would be able to do what I WILL do in the coming calendar year. Mark it down ladies and gentlemen, the reign of John Cavanagh may have begun in September 2022 but 2023–that will be the year of John Cavanagh here in the IIW. 2023, will be the year of John Cavanagh in the sport of professional wrestling. All I need to do is make sure that I pin one of you two to the mat. Trust me, it will be just as easily done as it was said. See you boys on Sunday.Cavanagh turned to his left and walked off of set, as he left the scene cut to static.
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Post by Blade Alexander on Dec 2, 2022 6:05:09 GMT
“It must be absolutely glorious to be that utterly delusional.”
The former Managing Director of IIW Bob Mitchell comments flippantly from his desk. “You're so fucking Irish, have you even BEEN to Ireland without your wrestling boots?"He stops to pull out a bottle from his bottom drawer. Whiskey, Irish Whiskey. Jameson. “Tell us that big guy. Actually, tell me why all you fucking New Yorkers all want to act like you're all landed immigrants? You weren't born or raised in Ireland. You're fucking play acting. You're acting to the point you made a biker gang, or maybe I guess you're the Irish mafia because you can't handle the fact that you're from Long Island sucks.”
Someone else cuts in. “Rangers suck, Yankees suck, Giants suck. Mets suck. Islanders suck. Knicks suck. Anyone else I missed sucks too.”
It's, of course, Blade Alexander standing there, unamused. “But really when it comes down to it you suck worse than them all John. Thanks for the pointless history lesson, buddy. Out of every single thing I said the best you could come up with was 'Well I won the International Title from Tyler, so I guess you don't know everything.' Very good, you pointed out public knowledge that didn't need to be pointed out, but since you need validation for beating up the crazy son of your old nemesis, then here you go.”
Both Blade and Bob give John Cavanagh the slow clapping ovation he deserves in a way he would appreciate. “I didn't claim to be an encyclopedia of historical knowledge, but sometimes things needed to be pointed out. Like the idea that you're on the Mount Rushmore of anything but numbskullery being a hilarious idea. You really think you deserve to be there? After what? The last company you were champion of went bankrupt. How's that for a history lesson. Yes, by all means everyone let's stick John Cavanagh, a man so great he couldn't carry a wrestling show out of Toronto on his back.” “What happened there John, you history nut? I know it's a little too recent for you to bring up because you're the king of dated references, but it sank like the Titanic... You should get that one... Then we bought it and brought it here and turned it into a women's show and your stink was still on it so bad it went tits up like three times before they pulled the plug.”“You talk about how we all feared you and your 80's cartoon stooges, but you've been here almost two years, you floundered here John, because all your career you've been a big fish in little ponds and then once you got here the fish got bigger and the pond became an ocean.” “Sure, you ran the roost in Toronto, but that company was built to support you, no wonder it failed. It took you like five guys to not lose your title to Jonny C and you were too scared to ever face Jay or I in the three or four weeks that company could actually afford us.”
“So, let's talk about more recent history. Let's talk about the event I was FORCED to sit out of, World's Collide. If your ego could manage it John, you'd realize the only reason you ever won back control of IIW for Osh was the fact I wasn't there. Don't believe me? Facts speak for themselves. Who forced Osh out of power? Me. Who forced the reins of power to change hands in IIW for a year, a whole year where you came in and set your roots. A year that you didn't quite reach the heights you were used to. A year when everyone was talking about guys other than you. That was ME John. Not you.”
“You were one of the guys who won it back, sure. You won it back on a stacked team of worthless idiots so bad they had to dredge up every wrestling school in the northern hemisphere, rig the opposition themselves, and get a mole on the other team. You did really well. You take a lot of credit for sitting back and letting others do all the work.” “But then came your time to shine, and shine you did when you fell on your ass against a lap dog in an Elimination Chamber match and on what should have been your crowning night turned into you laying there empty handed while some bumble fuck from the boondocks raised what should have been your title over his head.” “So, onto the second chance and you finally got the ball rolling. It's a good thing for all of you that the top line was benched. I know you cling desperately to the fact that we were on the sidelines thanks to Shaun Hart, but you should be embarrassed that you weren't because it means he didn't consider you a threat! He should have, but after running in a company like IIW for a year he forgot just how you measure up to outside talent, he only had us for comparison. You're good John, but you're never going to be my level.” “You got the big gold belt because everyone had to be taken out of your way. All of your accomplishments are shadows of things I've already done, and your track record shows that any time any real pressure is put on you, you fall right on your face.” “You asked again and again why you couldn't have a match against Freddy Debs and Jonny C at Explosion, but frankly that's pretty rhetorical now isn't it? You've fought Fred what three? Four hundred times? No one wants to see that. You want it because you think it would make for an easy win. You bested him before and he's a shadow of his former self, so you'd have his number now, right?” “And then there's Jonny C. You're delusional so in your head you think you've got that one in the bag too. Sure, he's defended the World Championship the most, but you have that win over him in First Class a hundred years ago, and we all know how you love ancient history, so you figure you've got him again. But fact is you don't have all those guys now to get involved, you wouldn't come out on top there.” “But that's not your road, John. You got me. You've got the hardest one and you know it. You know Osh picked me for a reason, just like he picked you. He picked you to come here and win that, and you took your sweet time doing it. He picked you again to get him his company back, but that time he had to stack the deck for you. He lost confidence in you, and you know it.”
“He bet the farm on you, and he walked out empty handed. He had to build it all up again on his own, and you sit there smug with that belt now, but you're a disappointment. You want to think things are better now because you're the champion, but you know they're not. You let the man down and his last act on this earth was to name your replacement.” “It's funny how it all worked out isn't it? You think you're so great, but you've failed to fill your own expectations. Now here we are. You talked about how the locker room didn't want you in it but look at me. I had to fight my way BACK into IIW. I wasn't signed here at first, Bob had to force Osh's hand to get me back. To a guy like you it's because I wasn't good enough, but my record in the ring speaks for itself. When I did get back it took armies, Osh's armies to keep me back and even then, even when he took his best shot, he couldn't keep me from prying his own company out of his hands.” “The things you brag about I've actually accomplished John, and when Osh needed someone with a strong enough hand to lead IIW into the future, he didn't look at you, he looked at me. He named me as the guy who's finally going to take that title and, in his memory, secure the future. No more in fighting, no more hot dogging. I'm the one to bring prestige and stability back to the World Championship and I'm going do it by beating the man who never quite lived up to the hype.”
He sits back against the desk and takes a breath.
“Don't you think for a minute that you're excused from this, Crush.”
Bob Mitchell pipes up.
“I'm a little bit surprised you're in all this but good for you. Maybe you can avoid all this embarrassment to come if you just take a little walk and you don't end up where every single person knows you're going to, flat on your back.” “I know you think you're cock of the walk around here now because you went to some house and beat up Ryan Hawkins, but I don't know if you noticed, but that doesn't count for much anymore. Ever since his clear-headed days trying to be the dream killer and Blade hit him so hard, he lost his mind and hasn't been able to find it since. He was a good talent at one point I swear.” “What's worse is that apparently Cav thinks you're going to get dropped by a superkick from our man here, Blade.” “That's the funniest story going into this match, everyone's built my superkick just because it laid out Cav.” “What's the verdict there?” “Total misfire. I didn't mean to hit him, but I sure don't feel bad about it. Now all of a sudden, I have this deadly kick and I'm a master of it when really, it's like my twentieth best move, so if these two are falling over themselves to avoid the kick, then they're in for a longer, more painful night then I thought.” “Painful is what sitting through promos has been. Crush runs these things like it's 1997 still and it's just a mess. No one cares about your damned wife or what you did somewhere else. At least Cav can talk like a grown up. Crush is such a bad man he's going to vague things to win the title because he's good and entertaining. You know why the fuck people react to this man, Crush?”
He indicates, of course, Blade.
“You know why people react to John Cavanagh?”
"It's not because they want to have the best five star matches some fucking nerd neck-beard in his basement can rave about or hit big moves or try to sell themselves on a pile of gimmicks and say they don't need gimmicks because they have all the personality of a wooden door stop. It's because they don't give a shit about any of that stuff. Being the best comes from doing anything to win and get what they want. You want to threaten this man of all people, THIS man with physical violence?” “This man will cripple you in front of that little wife you saved just a few weeks ago for nothing more than standing in his way. If you want to keep him from the World title at Explosion, then you really better buckle up because nothing you have ever done before is going to be enough. If you have friends get them because you'll need them all.” “Time is running out so I urge you to watch as much tape on the man as you can, not for finding some weakness to exploit, you won't. It's just to know. Know what you're up against and what this man has done and what he's willing to do just to get what he's been kept from for so very long.”
“The feeling is in the air. There's always a buzz when it comes to Explosion, it's a big event but we can all feel the change. Crush you're dense enough to think it's about you. For John it's that sound in his voice, you know the one. The one he gets when that conviction drops and he's not sure of himself. You hear it in his words when he's grasping at straws for some, for any mental upper hand in a losing battle.” “It's in yours too Crush, that lack of verbal punch. You had a big wind up, but you just whiffed the follow through in a big way. Shaun Hart was desperate to name you when he had no other option and with the pressure on, you're blowing it on the biggest stage you've ever had. At least Cav's verbal jabs land even if they have no impact. You're shadow boxing like you've never thrown a right in your life. It's sad, but that's what putting you in this position always was, some sad attempt to fill a void that didn't need to be filled.” “That electricity in the air you think is for you, Crush? That's for Blade. This is the culmination of a long journey. We are finally here at the end of 2022 and Crush and John Cavanagh are the exclamation point that Blade Alexander is going to put on the new era of IIW.”
“The only way to ensure you have a future in this business is by taking it with your own hands. In just a few days at Explosion, Blade Alexander takes his future, our future in his hands and does what he always has to make sure we have a future filled with strength, filled with the best the world has to offer. We've seen what happens now when IIW is delivered into the hands of failures, and we've seen that there's only one man fit to carry us into the future.” “Once upon a time I asked you, Blade, to deliver IIW into my hands and you didn't let me down. Now we find ourselves about to fulfill another promise, this time to the one we took it all from to begin with. It's time to take the IIW World Championship and place it here and close the story two years in the making. Take back the future that's been stolen from us.”
We end upon Bob's desk, and upon that desk is a mantle. In times past that mantle held championship belts, long stolen from this very office. Belts that if they were still placed where they ought to be who could guess at the path that IIW would have taken in the years that have unfolded since. That's a story we'll never know, but until then the mantle beckons to be filled. It may not have to wait long.
Fade.
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Crush
Junior Member
Posts: 57
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Post by Crush on Dec 2, 2022 19:27:25 GMT
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Post by The Celtic Club on Dec 2, 2022 22:05:49 GMT
The IIW faithful were greeted to the sounds and sights of static. The static came to a screeching halt as the oxidized bronze of Lady Liberty, her torch high in the air to welcome the immigrants of America’s long, and sometimes forgotten past. It was this sight that John Cavanagh’s grandparents first saw when they migrated across the Atlantic Ocean to New York City. The camera panned out to expose “The One Man Dynasty” John Cavanagh in a black hoodie with green lettering that read “Property of Celtic Club”, blue denim jeans, a pair of wheat colored Timberland boots and the IIW World Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder.John Cavanagh: Let me tell all of you a little story. When my grandparents decided to leave their homeland, Ireland, to immigrate to the United States they were fed lies about “streets paved with gold”. Believe it or not, they were gullible enough to believe that when they embarked on their voyage. I still, to this very day, can remember my grandmother, Margaret, telling me about all of the great things they were told about the States. There were jobs galore, equality, riches to be had, streets of gold and an American Dream to chase after. Well, I can’t say how much of it was really true…but I can tell you one thing, I’m happy as shit that they went through that struggle. See, without that generation opting to undergo that struggle, the future generations would not have it as good as we currently do. Many Americans may bitch and moan but the fact of the matter is–we have it so much better than the majority of human beings that we share this planet with. So much so that many of us, now, feel it is wrong to allow a new group of immigrants to join in on that dream. Well, I stand here in front of the Statue of Liberty, in front of every single fan of the IIW–regardless of country of origin–to state that Johnnie Cav supports anyone going after their “dream”. Whether that be a poor immigrant from a far flung country that struggles to get to a new, strange land and does everything in their power to succeed or that be a little prick with a silver spoon in their mouth that just wants to run their mouth and hope that it will, someday, somehow, make their dream of being a World Champion…a reality.The Irishman smiled at the camera as the World Championship glistened in the Sun. Cavanagh took in a deep breath before exhaling, the steam produced by his body showing the frigid climate that he currently lived in.John Cavanagh: See what I did there? That’s called a hook. It’s something that teachers attempt to teach their students when drafting essays and term papers. It’s something that screenwriters attempt to do within the first few minutes of a show. A hook to make you interested in what the subject is about to write or say, what the show is going to present to you. I’m sorry to break this to my opponents this Sunday but it’s clear to me that neither of them have the ability to hook the audience and captivate them enough to even sell a few pay-per-view buys. Sure, Crush and Blade Alexander can sit on their high horses and claim to be better than each other, better than me, claim to be the most dominant force in this business or claim to be the poster boy for the IIW–after Sunday night, when Explosion has ended, you can bet your ass that Johnnie Cav will be forcing both Crush and Blade Alexander to eat their insignificant words–all in front of a sold out arena and in front of millions watching at home. Just as the poor immigrants of old were hooked into the belief that the United States was the land of promise–Blade Alexander and Crush have also bought into the belief that Explosion is the event that they have been waiting for, for the entirety of their careers. Blade and Crush both yearn to become the IIW World Champion, and I truly can’t blame them, it’s a goal that every single athlete who enters the world of professional wrestling should hold. However, while I may not be able to blame either of you two for desiring what I possess–I can guarantee that Johnnie Cav is going to do everything and anything in his power to maintain his status as the World Champion and maintain his status as the Final Boss of the IIW. Now with all of those pleasantries being stated–we can all impatiently await the triple threat match at this year’s addition of IIW Explosion. The showdown between Bob Mitchell’s man crush and, well, Crush.
John smiled as he cocked his head to the side momentarily. He looked to the skyline of Manhattan, a sight that had become world famous. As he stared at the City he also knew of the thousands of scams that could be occurring on any given inch of that concrete jungle, but, he also knew that The Life he had found himself a member of wasn’t going to be the answer for the problems that he was set to confront at Explosion. John Cavanagh: Hey Crush, good old Johnnie Cav has a question for you. How are you going to say that the IIW is a legendary promotion but all of the talent that they have created means nothing. How is it that the talent that has built the house that you now call home are nothing more than “rejects”? Rejects of what, Crush? Rejects of you and that bullshit promotion you walk around representing? I’m not sure if you have been paying much attention to the events that have been occurring in the IIW the last few months but–you’re not the first one to prance around here thinking that they’re superior to the talent found in the IIW. Matter of fact, the night that I won the IIW World Heavyweight Championship…I had to defeat some other obnoxious prick that thought he was above the rest of us. Funny, after all was said and done with that douchebag he packed his bags, tucked his tail between his legs and left the IIW. I wonder, Crush, will the same be said of you after Explosion? Will the almighty “King of Extreme” be able to survive his shortcomings when he walks up that rampway, stares back down at the squared circle and sees that this Irish mick from Hell’s Kitchen is still hoisting the World Championship high above his head? Can the ECE continue to exist once the king of this imaginary kingdom is toppled by The One Man Dynasty. Matter of fact, I’;m assuming that is why you haven’t used that piss ant championship to gain yourself an opportunity at a World Championship of value. See, Crush, that just goes to show that my intelligence level lapped your level years ago. Why? It’s quite easy to see actually, see, when I came to the IIW I held a championship of a defunct promotion, the FCPW Canadian Championship, instead of parading around like it held its weight–I decided to use it for the best possible scenario, put it on the line in a unification match. That’s when I went and beat the ever loving piss out of Tyler Debonair–like I was explaining to Blade in my last promo. And ya know what happened to that defunct championship? I mean, I guess it technically belongs to whoever is the International Champion at any given moment but the moral of the story is…it’s dead. It’s six feet under the goddamn ground and it ain’t coming back–similar to how Crush will be at the conclusion of our encounter at Explosion.John Cavanagh: Now, don’t take that the wrong way Crush–the other mutt that left this place was a cancer–that can kill you…I’d compare you more to the common cold. Annoying as shit but a slight inconvenience. I heard you spewing all of that nonsense regarding how every superstar that the IIW has produced has been surpassed by others–how none of them could lick your boots. So, um, are you including Johnnie Cav in that list of “rejects” as you put it, or is Johnnie Cav a product of something else? I’m genuinely interested in your opinion on this because I have been around the block quite a few times but at the same time, my career has witnessed a bit of a resurrection since I came to the IIW. Let’s not forget the stand I just put up for those three letters as well, I would say that makes good old Johnnie Cav firmly an IIW Superstar. Huh, would you look at that? Crush did the best he could to insult Blade Alexander, and everyone else in the locker room, but he forgot that THIS IIW Superstar is one hundred percent superior to him. Now, Crush, let’s face reality anyone CAN lick your boots–the problem is someone like me isn’t about to degrade myself just to stroke your pathetic little ego. A man like Johnnie Cav is going to walk his ass down that aisle, take a beating, beat the shit out of you, pin you, hold the belt up high for all to see and get my ass to the pay window. See, that’s what a “superstar” does. A superstar faces off against his competition knowing that he has one hell of a battle ahead of him. A superstar squares off against an opponent knowing, regardless of their own strengths, there is ALWAYS the chance that the opponent might be better on a given day. That train of thought…it’s called being realistic, it’s called being intelligent, it’s called using that lump that is located three feet above your goddamn ass! Unfortunately for the King of Extreme it seems as if he waved goodbye to his cerebrum quite some time ago. Not sure if it was being “extreme”, or dealing with PG-13 his entire life, or just bad genetics but everyone and their mother can see that Crush is just biding his time, hoping and praying that no one realizes that in reality, the man has never mustered a single original thought in his life.John Cavanagh: You like to try and shit on the talent that shares the locker room with you, which I can completely get when it comes to a know it all, opportunist piece of shit like Blade Alexander, but yet, you do your best to…I guess make amends with me? You talk all of this nonsense about how the talent in this organization just can’t cut it, they can’t hang with you, they’re inferior, they’re this, they’re that but then when it comes time to talk about Johnnie Cav specifically–what did you do? The first thing you mentioned was the amount of “respect” you have for the current reigning IIW World Heavyweight Champion. Well, I mean, I hate to beat a dead horse but like I just said…it seems as if you waved goodbye to your cerebrum quite some time ago. I mean, just listen to some of the verbal diarrhea you uttered from that good for nothing mouth of yours…all I can do is accept my fate? What the hell kind of nursery rhyme garbage is that you came up with? Did you mother crochet that on some doily that rests on your dining room table or did you just come up with that epic statement all on your lonesome? You’re the King of Extreme and that’s not a gimmick? Good for you, “legend”. See, I can flip that on you very easily. I’m The One Man Dynasty and that ain’t no goddamn gimmick! While you say you’re a fifteen million time World Champion, thirty-eight time Hotdog Eating Contest winner, six hundred seventy-two time Fastest Jerkoff Trophy holder, I don’t need to list my accomplishments…they precede me. I can tell you each and every single stop on the journey of John Cavanagh’s career and list off whatever championships I may have won, but, the fact of the matter is…I’m not trying to put ZzzQuil out of business the way you are. I’m not trying to be the professional wrestling world’s sleeping pill. I went where I went, I won what I won and I did what I had to do. Like Julius Caesar, veni vidi vici….I came, I saw, I conquered. I’ll gladly leave my past accomplishments in the past to focus on the here and now and the future. John Cavanagh has been the World Champion in multiple different promotions BUT the only one of those championships that matters at this moment is the championship that I currently call my own.John Cavanagh: Crush, you can take whatever color you want out of your art kit and attempt to paint whatever pretty picture makes you feel special. You can regurgitate your resume for the entire world each and every single promo, you can tell your opponents that you’re better than them until you finally believe your own goddamn lies but in the end…nothing will change the painful truth that you are forced to face each and every single time you look into the mirror. You ain’t built the way you think you’re built. You have one thing right…in a few days we will both step in between those ropes. We will both stare down, we will both fight but it won’t be just you and I. For someone who has spoken on Blade Alexander, it’s quite comical how rapidly you forget his existence in our triple threat match this Sunday at Explosion XVIII. And, on that note, what the hell sneak attack are you even talking about? Buddy, I just found out you were my opponent the other Mayhem and haven’t had one thought of a sneak attack on you…it ain’t worth my time. I mean, I guess I could let Eoin O’Rourke handle your pathetic ass but then again…if I’m going to toss my new ally a little bread to take care of business, I’d rather it actually be business that NEEDS to be taken care of. Trust me, Crush, that ain’t you, buddy. Shit, I could send Trigger after you and I feel as if that would be plenty sufficient to take care of you. You can sit there and brainstorm a fairytale of Crush’s Dominance over the landscape of professional wrestling all you want. As a matter of fact you can show us exactly how much INTELLIGENCE you have when you submit a Harvard style outline of all of the reasons why Crush is the greatest wrestler in the history of professional wrestling. Then, when you’re done with all of that–maybe you can formulate a well-crafted term paper on all of the different rinky dink promotions around the world, ya know all of those places that everyone other than Crush has competed, and be sure to not use Wikipedia as a source in your Works Cited as I am one hundred percent certain that it isn’t always a reliable source for information.
John Cavanagh: As a matter of fact, Crush, you can go to whatever “intense measures” you think you’ve got up your sleeves because the truth of the matter is that Johnnie Cav has seen anything and everything that this business has to offer. There ain’t nothing that Crush is going to be able to pull out of his back pocket that is going to catch this son of a bitch by surprise. Doesn’t matter if you’ve dominated the ECE, doesn’t mean jack shit if you’ve held every different form of championship under the Sun…all that matters is what happens at Explosion. The events of our triple threat match with Blade Alexander and the results of said competition are the ONLY truths that will hold any weight after we finish up our business at Explosion. There isn’t going to be a ticker tape parade for Crush at the end of the show. There won’t be balloons falling from the rafters and confetti littering the squared circle and ringside area. There will be no moment of glory for you, or Blade for that matter, at the conclusion of our encounter. At the end of the night, when IIW Explosion draws to a close, there is only one of us who can come out the victor…only one of us who can hoist this sport’s top prize high above their head with pride…and you can bet every last penny that you two dimwits have in your bank accounts that the man who hotels the IIW World Heavyweight Championship at the start of the show…he’s going to be the same exact son of a bitch that walks out of the arena with that strap and his name is John fucking Cavanagh!
John Cavanagh: Crush can sit back, kick up his feet and call himself the standard of excellence if he so chooses. Problem is, I don’t see any excellence on his resume. ECE Champion–nice little paperweight you’ve got to walk around with, buddy. Beaten a list of competitors that is mostly just a laundry list of glorified enhancement talents. You making a big deal about defeating somebody like TJ Alexander would be like me bragging about retaining the World Championship against El Landerson or the International Championship against Anthony Phoenix–yeah, it’s a win…but a win that ain’t really worth mentioning once the night has passed. See, Crush, I haven’t seen you do jack shit since I came back from my injury. When it was time to crown a new World Champion, if memory serves me correctly, you weren’t even able to qualify for the goddamn Elimination Chamber! Yeah, that’s right, I remember you taking the L to Sean Raines when it mattered most. Instead of joining the fray in the Corrupted Chamber you faded off into nothingness and faced off against Poltergeist Gary for the Fairytale World Championship…yeah that is exactly what the “standard of excellence” within a promotion would do…fight for a championship that isn’t even associated with said promotion. Asshole, I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, it doesn’t matter what paint brush, canvas or paint that you use–in the end, your art isn’t worth the check that Osh Vaughan signs to keep you under contract. You may believe that you are an unstoppable force but the reality is that you have been stopped before by athletes who haven’t been able to hold up in the ring against me. I hate to be the one to break that news to you but if I was able to outlast Sean Raines in that Elimination Chamber there is a very strong possibility that there is no way in hell you would be able to outlast myself in a one on one matchup let alone a triple threat match that also includes Blade Alexander. I don’t know man, maybe you’ve got a little bit of that Steiner Math running through your neurotransmitters or something because all of the bullshit you spew…none of it adds up. You say every superstar that has ever stepped to you found themselves in over their head, yet you’ve already won and lost the IIW United Kingdom Championship…and to Fred Debonair no less. You have got to be kidding me! You actually think you have an opportunity to defeat me when you couldn’t get the job done against BOTH Sean Raines AND Fred Debonair? Two pieces of shit that couldn’t hold Johnnie Cav’s jockstrap?! Now I know for a fact that you’ve been huffing glue while eating lead paint chip Cheerios. I’m not sure there is enough medicine in the modern world to save your brain, Crush, I think you’re pretty much up Shit’s Creek without a paddle. Now all I need is a little popcorn to watch the rest of this depressing biopic of Crush’s life to unfold. I hope I don’t hurt that gigantic ego of yours too much at Explosion, I would really hate to hear Shaun and Osh bitch about how I chased a “talent” out of the promotion…AGAIN!John Cavanagh: Maybe that’s the problem, actually. It’s that the average competitor in this world thinks so highly of themselves that once they fail they feel the need to backtrack and go back to a place where they feel more comfortable, more able to handle the competition. I can’t blame them. Let’s face reality, I’ve been guilty of it in my life outside of the ring. Fuck up, spend some time as a guest of the State, and go right back to the same neighborhood, with the same people and all of the same stressors. Yet, now, I stand here in front of Lady Liberty, standing in front of the beacon of hope for millions that came to these shores, holding the ultimate prize for a professional wrestler. I stand here as THE beacon of hope for anyone who was ever told that they weren’t going to “make good”. That’s me, that’s Johnnie Cav. Who in the blue hell would have thought I’d be saying that in a million years? I know one person who will tell anyone who will listen that I’m full of shit and that’s Blade Alexander.John rubbed his chin before glancing at the IIW World Championship. It was true that Blade was a second generation talent, something John knew a bit about just in a different world. It was true that Blade’s father was a former World Champion in IIW during its infancy. It was amazing, the know it all didn’t have to fabricate reality in that instance–the exact opposite of Crush.John Cavanagh: Well, there he is. The most blinded person in the history of professional wrestling. Some second generational talent that feels that he is better than everyone else because his father was able to claim the IIW World Championship as his own once upon a time. I’m not the type to make up bullshit, Crush pretty much has the patent on that, so I’ll give your father the props he deserves. Your pops may have helped to build that incarnation of IIW, he may have been one hell of a competitor, hell, for all I know he might have even been able to take me in the ring but, guess what, buddy? Just because your father was able to get the job done in the past doesn’t mean that his offspring will be able to get the job done in the present. Just because you share some of the genetic makeup of an individual doesn’t exactly equate to having the same skillset. See, my brother Trigger, he ain’t never been a World Champion. He’s tried, but he hasn’t exactly gotten the job done in that respect. Trig, sorry kid, but the truth is the truth. Blade, I’m not going to take anything away from your family name or from your father, but when it comes to you–I know you, whether you like to admit it or not. I know that Blade Alexander is the same little snot nose brat that I encountered when my mother did her best to keep her children from following their father’s footsteps and brought us out to the ‘Burbs. Such a great place to live–less crime, less drugs, more acceptance, they said. MY ASS! You go to the ‘Burbs and you’ve got just as much crime, if not more, just less murders…you’ve got neighborhoods of rich little brats that have no street sense whatsoever that have access to every drug known to man and what’s worse is that mommy and daddy keep their pockets flush with cash…and then wonder why their little baby OD’d. Acceptance? Yeah, ok. Every piece of shit I met when I was moved from the Concrete Jungle to picturesque Long Island was just like Blade Alexander. A little know it all that was raised with a silver spoon in their mouth. A little punk that thought they could live off of the name that their father had established. I can see the teenage Blade Alexander right now…about to get into a fist fight at school just to shout out “Do you know who my father is?!?!?!”. How Jersey Shore of you, Blade.John Cavanagh: Actually, fuck it, since we’re on the topic of Dirty Jerz anyway. Sopranos? You’re really cute, my guy. Almost as cute as that mucus infested tissue that we used to call Justin York. Really? You’re going to compare me and my boys to some imaginary characters in a show created by some shithead named David Chase? The real Jersey boys were called the DeCavalcante Family, not that I would expect some snot nosed brat from New Brunswick to even understand what the hell a family or borgata even is. See, you’re part of the world, you’ve got some little pansies that like to wear red and white, and name themselves after a squadron of American fighters from World War 2. Now, I’m not saying they wanted an American name they just took it because who the fuck would be afraid of a motorcycle gang from Canada–probably give themselves the name the Mighty Ducks or something to do with hockey. I mean, it is kind of fitting though. You want to poke fun at my life, my choices, the people I associate with but yet–you live in Canada. Ya know, the United States without the whole military thing. You’re boasting about how great you are, how amazing your father was, how much of a clown I am, yet you come from a country that is stuck between its British identity, its half assed American identity and its French identity. Shit, son, you might not even be living in Canada in a few years–the fact that the loose confederation that y’all have has stuck together this long is an utter miracle of world history. But, maybe I should stop, I’m not really trying to bash on all Canadians. I met Vito Rizzuto when I was younger, he was a cold dude, a lot scarier than anything Blade Alexander or Crush could ever conjure up in their little bird brains. But, that’s what happens when you name yourself after some steroid dealing wrestler from Hawaii from WWF’s Golden Era and that is also what happens when you decide to use accomplishments of your family to build yourself up. I could list all the shit my father got in to when he was running the streets of the Kitchen, but, ya know, what the fuck good would that do? Yeah, this is wrestling, but even if it’s brought up in the streets–I ain’t him, just like you ain’t your pops. Sorry to get a bit distracted but the fact that you would even compare us Irish from the Kitchen and Long Island to a few farmers down in Jersey shows just how delusional you are. John Cavanagh: Actually, no, scratch that…ya know what really proves how delusional you are Blade? The fact that you would sit here and thank me for defeating “that guy” and then go on to use Shaun Hart as a cop out reason for why your bitch ass was sitting at home during that entire dilemma. Shaun Hart refused to let you compete? Give me a goddamn break! Everyone knows that Osh controls everything in the end, Shaun found that out the hard way shortly after Red Alert and guess when Blade Alexander decided to show the world his ugly face…yeah, that would be AT Red Alert. So, if Shaun wouldn’t allow Blade Alexander to get involved why the hell was Blade Alexander backstage all night at Red Alert? I’m not naive, my name isn’t Crush, if you were able to get to Red Alert without Shaun having your punk ass escorted out by the pigs then you could have showed up at any time your little heart desired. Same with Jay Vaughan, same with Jonny C and any other of you “Originals” who went hiding when THAT guy was around. Blade, let’s kick the ballistics man, we all know the reason you weren’t around was because you knew that you didn’t have what it takes to get the job done against those CCPE jerkoffs. Hell, if you had any cares for seeing them completely expunged from the IIW the last thing you would do is fight Johnnie Cav. I look around the locker room–I’m not seeing too many names that can topple J Mont or Fred Debonair, but, we all know that I can…and that I will when their day comes. Wait, Johnnie, shut up before you get side tracked and go on a tangent about people who aren’t worth your time at the moment. The World Champion shook his head back and forth in a physical plea to stop with his train of thought.John Cavanagh: At least we can agree on one thing, Blade…Crush’s purpose in this match. I’m not going to be the cocky son of a bitch to say “we all know I’m going to win”, you’ve all heard me say that enough in my tenure in the IIW, but we all definitely see the difference in talent levels in this match. There are clearly two men who can score a pinfall, and one guy who is eating the pin and that’s our main man, Kona. Shit, man, we should kind of feel bad for him at this point. Or maybe we shouldn’t. That poor schmuck really needs to have his eyes opened anyway–just like you Blade. Both of you need a rude awakening at Explosion because this is the true welcoming party to the new era of Intense International Wrestling. This event will be the welcoming party to the true onset of the John Cavanagh era. After I can say not only did I win the championship but I also defended it against a shit eating original and the other “World Champion”...and that would be defense number two on my way to proving that Johnnie Cav is the GREATEST World Champion in the history of IIW. Yes, that means I will far surpass the ECE reign of Crush…well, that already happened, I just needed to win the title to do that. It also means that I will surpass your father and leave his legacy behind in the dust, Blade. How much will that sting when the accomplishments you hold so near and dear, those of your father, are eclipsed by someone who you seem to view as a talentless hack? Or, maybe I’m not a talentless hack as you seem to be going back and forth between how much of a threat I am. Keep second guessing yourself, Blade, keep overthinking and overreaching for random bullshit. Hell, let Bob Mitchell cut your promos for you with all of his old school rhetoric that no one wants to hear in 2022. Bob, just so you know, I can’t wait to get my hands on you at Explosion as well. You can insult me all you want but just know that if you ever visit Tipperary Town, and you find a Cavanagh, that’s my kin tell ‘em that Johnnie Boy said “hi” and I’m sure they’ll tell you “oh that’s fookin’ grand!” So, ya know, pog mo thoin and all those pleasantries.John Cavanagh: Well, I’ve said what I feel I need to say. Blade, Crush, Bob Mitchell, Shaun Hart, I’ll see all of you shitheads soon and when I do, I’m sure you’ll all have your eyes on the prize that sits so beautifully upon my shoulder. Bob climaxing in his pants for being so close to it, Crush looking at the ECE Championship as if it was a child’s toy he purchased at WalMart, Shaun with eyes green with envy knowing the CCPE won’t ever touch it and Blade Alexander wishing he had one-tenth the talent that his father had. Until Sunday…Cavanagh took a step to his right as the scene cut to static.
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