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Post by Shaun Hart on Jan 30, 2023 19:15:43 GMT
( After being embarrassed last week by The World Heavyweight Champion Shaun Hart has called on The leader of The Purge Ryan Hawkins to challenge John Cavanagh for the World Heavyweight Championship in hopes he wins and turns Cavs dreams into Nightmares but the taste won't be easy as John Cavanagh has defended his Championship multiple times against the best in IIW.)
Main Event
World Heavyweight Championship
Standard Singles Match
Ryan Hawkins vs John Cavanagh
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Post by Ryan Hawkins on Feb 2, 2023 17:44:41 GMT
The scene begins in the woods where nothing grows as the ground is dry and a dark cloud hangs over it, blocking the sun from shedding any light but as it gets darker we see a small fiery blaze in the distance. As we get closer we can see a small pit fire burning in the middle of the woods with who we believe to be Ryan Hawkins sitting alone until Lady Purge appears out of the shadows, she's dressed in an all-black dress with a veil over her pink Purge mask that hides her face, she slowly approaches the fire pit humming in a slow but soothing tune while holding an object behind her hands that she won't let us see. She comes to a stop and places her hand on Ryan Hawkins shoulder and leans into his ear.
Lady Purge: Caleb Scott has been a great asset to The Purge, since the days you looked upon him and gave him the nod of approval we all knew Caleb would accomplish great things at the expense of other dreams and deserves all the praise and admiration.
Lady Purge twists her head a little.
Lady Purge: But too many have forgotten the origins of this family. Too many look at the name Ryan Hawkins now with a smile. They no longer fear THE NIGHTMARE, they no longer toss and turn knowing they will have to look across the ring at you.
Lady Purge shakes her head.
Lady Purge: And it's just not the fools in the locker room, It's the fans, management and the most egregious is that some of The Purge Followers I've noticed here at the manor don't look at you with the same admiration as they once did before.
Lady Purge looks off to the side.
Lady Purge: Seasons change, time continues to move forward and ideology evolves but one thing everyone should know is that DREAMS TURN TO NIGHTMARES!!!!!
Lady Purge echoes throughout the woods with so much disdain that a flock of ravens comes flying through in a pathetic and only nearly missing Lady Purge and Ryan, resembling a rushing flow of water being split by a boulder in its path. After the Ravens settle back down in the tree, Lady Purge leads back into the ear of Ryan.
Lady Purge: They don't know the horrors you've done to earn the right to be known as the reaper of dreams that's haunted the nightmares of many IIWs beloved like John Tolly and TJ Alexander who came for you when you were the most dominant Television Champion before Caleb possessed it. They forget your dominant Tag Team Title run with Chris Nitro and how you carried Anthony Phoenix to relevancy for the first time in his career and they forget how you were the only one that could defeat the red-hot Rogue and send him spiraling down into a shell of his former self that he's never stepped foot into a wrestling ring.
Lady Purge begins humming that soothing tune again for a moment.
Lady Purge: But someone that's always cared for you, has been watching you as they have before. They see you need an opportunity to prove your dominance and how much people should fear your sight again. So through the wind, they sent their voice to the ear of Shaun Hart who was scrambling for a challenger to face the great Irish warrior from Hell's Kitchen New York.
Lady Purge giggles and then uses her free hand to reach into her pocket and throws a green stone into the fire that feeds the flame and gives off a slight green color.
Lady Purge: The World Heavyweight Champion John Cavanagh has been chosen to be your victim that you will sacrifice on Monday Night Mayhem by turning his Championship dream win into an everlasting Nightmare by taking away the Championship and changing the course of the Keys 2 Success Main Event and with the court jester Joe Montouri now playing referee the odds are over more in your favor but don't get overzealous Dream Killer.
Lady Purge looks at the green flame as it continues to grow with more aggression.
Lady Purge: Cavanagh has taken down many idolized names in this company. You can go from Tyler Debonair and all the way to the cancer that was festering its way inside of IIW Chris Page. John is someone that has a plan and a backup plan for when the first one goes south. He’ll be prepared for this match and even more motivated to send a message to The Mecca after their last couple of encounters but your motivation and what you have to lose is so much more precious than a piece of fabric with a gold plate on top of it.
Lady Purge puts her hand back on Ryan's shoulder.
Lady Purge: Your Legacy and reputation of who you are will be at stake. The person who has your best interest in mind and has gifted you this opportunity to remind the World exactly who Ryan Hawkins is. They need to be remembered and know that The Purge is much more than what they see on Friday Nights, they need to know that while some were adopted into the dark, you were born and nurtured into it. It's time Ryan, it's time to remind them exactly who you are by slaying Hells Kitchens Champion!
Ryan lifts his head up for the first time with a sinister smile on his face as he locks eyes with the flame in front of him.
Ryan Hawkins: I find this all rather amusing Lady Purge, but I find it even more insulted that some out there think a showdown with me is a walk in the park. The audacity of some of them to act like I haven't left a path of destruction each time I've stepped into a ring and left people in a state of shock but no matter I will do Shauna dirty work and answer the call of the voice you speak of that demands I remind the world of who I am.
The flame in front of Ryan intensifies.
Ryan Hawkins: You know I must admit that I have not been myself up until now. I got a little lazy after bringing Caleb in The Purge, my focus was on putting him in a better position to succeed and that's happened. He's ascended to the top elite status of this company and I'm proud of him for that but now it's time for The Dream Killer to return to the top of the IIW mountain.
For far too long I've been fighting back these thoughts in my mind, I've been too hesitant this day with spreading fear but not anymore! My inner demon has been awakening and now my own fire deep down inside has been re-lit!
Lady Purge looks over her shoulder at the object behind her back.
Lady Purge: They know what you are capable of Ryan, they've been part of your journey for a very long time but since you went your separate ways your hunger to be cruel and unleash chaos has disappeared. Replaced with useless emotions that have only been holding you back but no worries they found their way to seek you out and return to you.
Lady Purge kneels down in front of Ryan now and slowly reveals the object to be the doll known as Hannabale that Ryan uses to carry around with him during his beat days in IIW. Ryan admires the doll at first and then slowly takes it out of the hands of Lady Purge. He holds Hannabale gently in his hands as he admires her for a moment.
Ryan Hawkins: I knew one day we would find each other again. I knew the journey you sent me on to rebuild The Purge and make it stronger than ever but I knew without you it would be a challenge but I did it but it cost me my edge. Without your voice to guide me, I fell into obscurity while giving others a helping hand but now I see you've still had my best interest at hand and now with you back in my ear I can unleash my full potential on this God for sake promotion.
Ryan stands up now as he clutches the Hannabale doll close to his chest and stares at the flame with a smirk on his face.
Ryan Hawkins: John Cavanagh you are fierce and have been the top guy in this company for a few months now and many may think your Dreams have been accomplished but as I look closely into your soul I see your true ambitions. Your desire is not only to be the World Heavyweight Champion of IIW you want to be the greatest World Champion this company has ever known.
Ryan rolls his eyes in the back of his head.
Ryan Hawkins: Oh I know it all John boy, I see you chasing the legacy of Jake E Dangerously but I also see your desire to be the one to take credit for taking out The Mecca and running them out of IIW, but your reasons for this isn't as legitimate as you make it out to be. You see you don't care about IIW you only care about who runs it and right now while you hold the World Heavyweight Championship, you have no hold on the IIW.
The Mecca has been running around here owning everyone accord for me because I choose not to get into a pointless power of control. After all, you fools try to control chaos when all I want to do is let it run rapidly!!!
Ryan smirks as the fire crackles and pops.
Ryan Hawkins: John you're only happy if the Celtic Club is running things and if they aren't you are ready to turn IIW into a turf war until you have that control but I'm here to play disappointment for you. I'm coming to take the match you want with Joe away from you, I'm coming to take the World Heavyweight Championship away from you John, I'm coming to end your Championship Dream and turn it into an agonizing Nightmare that you can never escape from and of you don't believe me just ask the man you beat at Explosion.
Ryan smiles sinisterly.
Ryan Hawkins: Yes that’s right Crush, a man you and your protege Andy have managed to beat and that’s all thanks to me and I’ll tell you how in just a moment. You see people have this idea that I must win the match to affect your mind and soul… but oh no Champ that is not the case. You see my influence on dreams and souls comes from putting my opponent through unimaginable pain physically but more importantly mentally!
Ryan points to his temple.
Ryan Hawkins: I put Crush through so much during our feud that even in victory he hasn’t been the same Extreme King he once was when he walked into IIW and it’s no coincidence that he hasn’t won a match since our battle. Crush is a broken man deep inside and that is thanks to me. You only really had to worry about Blade because Crush was already defeated before he stepped foot in that ring. He questions his wrestling ability constantly and struggles with the demons in his head that I UNLEASHED!
I sent you an easy victim to claim John Cavanagh but now that Nightmare is coming you way and I have no doubt you will do anything to make sure you're prepared for it but John I promise no amount of weight lifting and ring training will prepare you for the battle that awaits you on February 13. I know most Irish practice the way of the Roman Catholic so I'm going to assume you do as well because regardless of your religious practice you're going to need the power of God to help you as you go into battle with the nightmare known as The Dream Killer Ryan Hawkins!!!
Ryan picks up a bag that was sitting beside him and walks closer to the fire with it.
Ryan Hawkins: John I won't be a fool to tell you this fight between us won't be personal because it's always personal when someone has something to lose and I refuse to be the one to walk away empty-handed. Hannabale has chosen you to be my messenger to the whole world as they watch me put out the flame of the Irish Warrior from Hell's Kitchen!!!
Ryan dumps some black sand on top of the green burning flame until it stops burning and all that remains of the flame is the smoke that dances away in the wind.
Ryan Hawkins: COME AND SEE!!!!!!
The lasting image we see as the scene fades out is Ryan clutching the sinister smiling doll Hannabale.
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Post by The Celtic Club on Feb 8, 2023 18:05:43 GMT
The IIW faithful are greeted by the familiar sound of static before the static dissipates to a cigarette being ashed into an ashtray. A gravely voice is heard…
Voice: So, I heard those Mecca boys are fuckin’ with you good, lately, huh?
The camera pans to the blonde haired Irishman that is currently called the IIW World Champion. He is seated with a map of Italy in the background and a red tablecloth draped over the table he is at. A large plate covered in pasta and red sauce sits in front of him with a glass of red wine off to the side. The smoke billows up from the ashtray alluding to the fact that another man is seated across from Johnnie Cav.
John Cavanagh: Yeah, well, you must have not seen the last episode of Mayhem because I’m pretty sure it was us fuckin’ with those Mecca boys, no?
The camera pans out showing an olive skinned man with a black pompadour haircut, an obnoxiously large nose and a diamond encrusted gold pinky ring on his hand. The man takes a pull from the cigarette and smiles at John. This man was more well known in New York City’s criminal underworld than John himself, this man was Vinny Abruzzo and he was a Caporegime in the Genovese Family, the largest of New York’s five Cosa Nostra families.
Vinny Abruzzo: Yeah, I must have missed that one. Ya know, Johnnie Boy, that’s life in the fast lane for ya. You miss out on a lot of shit.
Cavanagh nodded his head in agreement prior to picking up the glass of wine and scarfing it down in one gulp.
John Cavanagh: I’ll never quite understand you goombahs and your vino. Shit tastes like five day old cabbage. You guineas ain’t got no Jameson in this bitch?
Vinny Abruzzo: Ohh!!!! You micks from the West Side never learned proper manners, huh?
The two friends share a laugh. They had known each other for decades and while they didn’t always see eye to eye they always found a reason to coexist–money.
Vinny Abruzzo: You know, all jokes aside, you made me a lot of money when you won that title. Lots of people were betting on that other mutt, that annoying prick with the long blonde hair, what was his name anyway, that three dollar bill lookin’ guy…
John waved his hand in the air.
John Cavanagh: Cowards who were castrated at birth don’t have names.
Vinny chuckled and nodded his head as he took another pull from his cigarette. Vinny exhaled through his nostrils before putting the cigarette out in the ashtray.
Vinny Abruzzo: Good point. If everyone felt that way there would be less of the boys sitting in the clink right now.
The two men nodded their heads slowly, solemnly. Behind Vinny sat a photo with a small light shining down. A tradition within Cosa Nostra, when a member of the family is a guest of the government. Vinny looked behind him towards the picture and looked back to Johnnie.
Vinny Abruzzo: My fuckin’ brother. Put away for a seven year stretch all because some prick out in Astoria couldn’t do the right thing.
John Cavanagh: So few are ready to do the right thing nowadays.
Vinny shook his head back and forth, it was clear that this was a topic he felt rather passionate about.
Vinny Abruzzo: Yeah especially some immigrant fuck from Albania? You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?! Some Albanian mutt gonna get my kid brother jammed up? How would you feel?
John looked confused, puzzled. He seemed as if he didn’t want to speak anymore, as if this was a subject he wasn’t comfortable with.
Vinny Abruzzo: What?!
Cavanagh pointed to his ears as he said…
John Cavanagh: The walls.
It was an old expression within the criminal underworld. “Be careful, the walls have ears”. It was clear to Vinny at this moment that John was being cautious, he didn’t want his voice to be picked up on a wiretap.
Vinny Abruzzo: Mikey went through the place and swept for bugs before I came in–it’s cleaner than the fuckin’ Virgin Mary in this place right now.
John Cavanagh: Well, with that being said I think I wanna take a contract out on this prick Shaun Hart, motherfucker is one of the most cuniving pieces of shit I’ve ever met in my life. Maybe I’ll have Andy catch him after a show with a couple of the boys from the Kitchen, take out the trash, ya know?
Abruzzo looked at John and raised one of his eyebrows. Did he actually just hear what he thought he heard? Johnnie Cav thinking of whacking out the guy running the IIW for the recently deceased Osh Vaughan? Couldn’t be.
Vinny Abruzzo: Hey, I don’t wanna hear about this shit! I brought this up because of some Albanian mutt, not some knock off Bret Hart wannabe. You wanna whack out the fuckin’ canuck go for it, no sweat off my back.
Cavanagh began to laugh. He wasn’t being serious, he had no actual reason to make Shaun Hart wear a pair of cement shoes but he had to be honest…it had entered his dreams once or twice.
John Cavanagh: Yeah, you’re right Vinny. So, this Albanian…
Vinny Abruzzo: Yeah, Roan, his last name sounds like Martini almost, you’d almost think this mutt was a paisan, fugheddaboutit! This prick got his little gambling operations going, my brother goes to make a collection, what does this fuck do?
Vinny reached into the right breast of his suite to produce his trademark pack of Marlboro Reds. He lights up another cigarette, takes a deep breath and exhales.
Vinny Abruzzo: This mutt thinks we’re stupid, huh? This mutt thinks that I don’t know he was the one that tipped off the cops about the pistol in my brother’s stash box? Seven fucking years, State time?! You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?! Givin’ me fuckin’ agida! My brother, he’s a stand up guy of course, but he ain’t the type to be inside of a cell.
John Cavanagh: I don’t think any of us really are, Vin.
Vinny Abruzzo: Yeah, but you know what I mean, he’s a family guy. Got a wife and two kids at home, a goomah that he pays rent for, then on top of that the guy’s got a business and this chick from there…
John Cavanagh: Vinny, you hear yourself? You think the average person is gonna call the guy who is married with kids, has a mistress and then owns a strip club where he bangs one of the girls a “family guy”?
The Mafioso smirked at the Irishman.
Vinny Abruzzo: Hey, what we do in our private time is our own damn business! Not to mention he’s a good earner!
John Cavanagh: I mean, let’s be real, you see the girls at his club? You give me ten bitches between five six and five nine all with long legs, double Ds and cute faces and I’d be one of your best earners too.
Vinny laughed as he drank a bit of his wine, he snapped his fingers in the air and a waiter appeared to refill his glass to were it once was and refill Cavanagh’s glass as well. John looked at the glass and rolled his eyes.
John Cavanagh: Still no Jamo…
John picked up the glass and chugged the red wine as if it were a shot of whiskey. Vinny chuckled before sliding a match box across the table.
Vinny Abruzzo: Now, I got word from the Old Man that he doesn’t want this to get messy but he didn’t say anything about a fire.
The Irishman raised his right eyebrow as he looked down towards the book of matches.
Vinny Abruzzo: Ya know, he’s got this restaurant out in Astoria, Taste of Sarajevo, shit food, I’m tellin’ you us Italians the only white people ever knew how to cook.
John Cavanagh: So you’re telling me I shouldn’t give the place a chance?
Vinny Abruzzo: Fuck no, if it ain’t Italian it ain’t worth eatin’.
John Cavanagh: I’m pretty sure some bitch named Gianna told me that once upon a time but she was wrong.
The two men begin a deep belly laugh. Sexual adventures, always a topic of great comedy for these kind of guys–at least it was less morbid than laughing over someone losing an eyeball or getting their brains blown out.
Vinny Abruzzo: I don’t know what the Albanian Independence Day is or nothing like that but maybe show this guy the Fourth of July a little early, capisce?
John Cavanagh: Non parlo italiano but I got you.
Vinny Abruzzo: I ever tell you, you’re my favorite prick?
John Cavanagh: I figured your favorite prick was that excuse of a dick you walk around with.
Vinny Abruzzo: Always the ball breaker…
John got up from the table, he placed his leather jacket over his shoulder and smiled to Vinny.
John Cavanagh: Always. I’ll get somebody on this…I’ll let you know when it’s done.
Vinny raised his wine glass as the scene momentarily cut to static. The scene reopened nearly immediately to John Cavanagh once again, however, this time he was solitary. This time the only thing that could be seen with the IIW World Heavyweight Championship hanging from a buckle on a wall. Nothing else of the room could be made out other than Cavanagh’s upper body and the World Championship that hung behind him.
John Cavanagh: What would an edition of IIW Monday Night Mayhem be without Shaun Hart sticking his nose into somebody else’s business? Would it really hurt Shaun that much to just sit in the back for a couple of hours and let the inmates run the asylum? I mean, let’s face the facts Shaun, you’ve got more pull around here than the fucking President of the United States does in the White House but yet you’ve got less respect than Barry Horowitz had at the height of his less than historic career. I mean, I guess I might as well just suck it up and deal with it because it seems that unless somebody renovates Shaun’s head to include a moonroof this dumb prick just ain’t gonna pick up what I’m putting down. Well, that ain’t my problem Shaun, the reality of the situation is that each time you decide to make it a “problem” for me…I solve that problem with prudence. See, I don’t trust you for a split second. Nobody should trust your ass, especially not the mindless sacks of shit you’ve got following you around in The Mecca. Last time you had the leader of a faction wrapped around your little finger you gave the prick every advantage in the world and guess what…he failed. Then what happened? You couldn’t even keep your butt buddy around long enough to watch him crash and burn a second time. So, what do you do?
The leader of The Celtic Club shook his head back and forth in disbelief as if he wasn’t a living, breathing part of the Shaun Hart saga here in the IIW.
John Cavanagh: You find what you think is the next best thing. You back your first buddies little sidekick, watch him, through some stroke of luck, win the Ice Crown Battle Royal and then, ya know since he’s already the International Champion, send him gunning for the top dog. Well, that’s cool by me, I’m ready, willing and able to take on every single mutt you decide to send down that aisle but, ya know what I’m not cool with Shaun? I’ll tell you, I’m not cool with you deciding to continually pile onto the shit storm to give your little hand picked champion slightly better odds at getting the job done against The One Man Dynasty because I’m going to break your delusional dreams now…it ain’t gonna happen! You can send Ryan Hawkins down to the ring, you can give him a championship opportunity, you could make it some kind of insane gimmick match to try and get more eyes on the product, whatever the fuck you want Shaun. You want to throw me in a match with Ryan Hawkins in the lead up to Keys 2 Success? I’m fine with that. You want to put the most prestigious prize in the game on the line? Yeah, check that box, ain’t got no problem with that decision either. Why ain’t I sitting here bitching about these decisions you’ve bestowed upon me? It’s probably because I am one of the only people in this entire industry who can say “I don’t give a fuck” and actually mean it! I told you all going into Red Alert that I would win the World Championship by hook or crook and I did it. I made lightwork of El Landerson when he got his golden opportunity…but what the hell else did y’all expect? I told you all going into Explosion that Crush and Blade Alexander, collectively, didn’t have what it would take to finish off good old Johnnie Cav and I left that show with the Championship, still! Now we move on to Ryan Hawkins. It’s like J Mont and Shaun Hart can’t take a breath of air without trying to fuck somebody over in this promotion the problem is that they are now trying to fuck over the one that ain’t gonna take their shit!
The One Man Dynasty pointed one solitary finger upwards towards himself. He had never been the type to take shit from another human being but this has been an entirely different level of fuckery. He had dealt with promoters who weren’t his biggest fan in the past but this had reached a new level of ridiculousness.
John Cavanagh: I know our path of destruction truly began last spring when Shaun Hart and the rest of the CCPE maggots decided that they were going to have a monopoly over the IIW. They had the Tag Belts, they had the International Championship and they were literally ejaculating in their pants looking at the newly vacated World Championship. Well, Johnnie Cav tossed the ultimate curveball into those plans and made sure that the World Championship stayed with someone who actually deserved to have that beautiful strap. When I did that, their mighty leader went and found himself a bath house or something like that and disappeared leaving half of the Tag Titles vacated in the process. Then these mutts, to show their absolute respect for this promotion, took the Tag Titles and tossed them in the trash, Alundra Blayze style. Oh yeah, I missed in there that one of Shaun’s little lap dogs got all butt hurt and left the promotion in the interim–vacating the International Championship that I had worked so hard to build back up. I mean, I guess Shaun is finally coming to the realization that regardless of what opponent is tossed my way…I’m going to get out there like a one percenter and take care of some goddamn business! Now, before I make everyone forget that we have an edition of Monday Night Mayhem coming up and continue down the Shaun Hart and J Mont path I think it is only fair that I place some of my attention onto the task at hand–the new challenger that wants to take my World Championship…Ryan Hawkins.
Johnnie cleared his throat as he gathered his thoughts for a moment. He knew that Ryan Hawkins wasn’t a Shaun Hart boy. He knew that Hart had no desire to see Ryan Hawkins as the IIW World Champion, but he knew a set up when he saw one.
John Cavanagh: Ryan, I have to keep this one hundred percent truthful with you…we both know that Shaun didn’t give you this title match because he would rather you holding the title than me. We both know that Shaun Hart didn’t book this title match because you happened to earn a championship opportunity. Nah, Shaun Hart booked this match because he wants to see you beat the piss out of me and me beat the piss out of you. This match is booked on Monday Night Mayhem to sell a few extra tickets–a World Championship match and you don’t even need to buy a pay-per-view to witness it! This match was booked so that J Mont could have another opportunity to scout The One Man Dynasty. This showdown of Johnnie Cav and Ryan Hawkins is only happening because The Mecca knows that without Ryan Hawkins softening me up a bit, J Mont has less than a one percent chance of walking out of Keys 2 Success as the IIW World Heavyweight Champion. We are going to get into that ring this Monday night, beat the ever loving shit out of one another for the fans of the IIW, for the prestige of the IIW World Championship, for the right to be called the absolute best that this sport has to offer…and in the interim…we will do EXACTLY what Shaun Hart and J Mont have been having wet dreams about. Neither of us will leave this match without scars and injuries. Neither of us will be giving into the other one without being completely incapacitated. The aforementioned facts, those are the facts that The Mecca are holding near and dear to their heart when it comes to Mayhem. So, with that being said Hawkins, let’s just be sure that you and I give the people what they want…shit…let’s make sure we even give those pricks that are salivating at the thought of our showdown what they want.
Cavanagh chuckled momentarily. He thought of the pain, the carnage and the violence that were in store for himself and Ryan Hawkins this Monday night at Mayhem. Some would shy away from such an encounter, not Johnnie though, he was reveling in another opportunity to show that he was, in fact, the greatest World Champion that the IIW would ever see.
John Cavanagh: Ryan, I admire your carnal instincts. I’ve found myself watching in amazement multiple times at the amount of pain your body can endure and keep on chugging on. It’s like you’re a man after Mick Foley’s own heart. You can dish out an ass whooping and take an ass whooping all in the same match. You use your body as an instrument of destruction–even if it means destroying your own body. It’s almost as if you are the literal, walking definition of “giving zero fucks”. Now, we may not be able to beat each other’s ass from one side of the arena to the other. We might not be able to send one another crashing through tables, smashing one another with chairs, lacerating each other with barbed wire and slamming one another into about a thousand thumb tacks BUT that don’t mean that good old Johnnie Cav and the sick puppy Ryan Hawkins ain’t gonna find a way to go medieval on one another. Will there be blood? Quite possibly. Will there be pain? You can bet your bottom dollar on it! You can feel free to place every last penny that you might have on this match being, as one of this sport’s most famous voices would say, a goddamn slobberknocker. I’m sure J Mont and Shaun Hart will be watering at the mouth watching Ryan Hawkins pick up John Cavanagh and slam him against the mat. Every submission hold, each strike, every single moment of uncertainty–they’re going to be eating it up like a rabid pack of hyenas that just came across a carcass on the African Savannah. I hate to be the one to call out the reality of the situation to you Ryan, but I’m gonna have to be that asshole right about now.
The World Champion rubbed the palms of his hands together. He knew that Ryan Hawkins was deserving of a World Championship opportunity and he knew that Ryan was going to fight with all of his heart to try and win that championship…he didn’t expect anything less.
John Cavanagh: They do not expect you to win this match, nor do they really want you to win this match. The only thing that The Mecca hopes to see in this match is Johnnie Cav, bloodied, with his hand raised and a few injuries at the end of it. Why? Because they don’t want J Mont and Ryan Hawkins at Keys 2 Success. Who in the blue hell is going to buy that pay-per-view? What moron is going to buy a ticket to that show? Only the die-hards that already purchased their tickets. Johnnie Cav and J Mont…The Celtic Club and The Mecca…that’s where the greenbacks are. Or, to make this British owned company feel better, that’s where the Pounds are I presume. Now, with that being said, I’m sure J Mont wouldn’t mind having to face off against Ryan Hawkins rather than myself. Let’s face it, he was always the second tier option for that group to begin with, since I chased off the leader he’s gotta be thinking he’s the consolation prize. That’s it, J Mont is probably sitting there with a pair of pom poms, a short skirt and a sweater that says “Hawkins University” or some bullshit like that. See, for J Mont, it makes sense that Ryan Hawkins is the better option to face–yeah Hawkins might be sadistic but he doesn’t think about what he’s about to do. He’s kind of like an Enforcer in a Motorcycle Club…he doesn’t need to know why he has to hurt someone, he just knows he needs to hurt them. That’s Ryan Hawkins in a nutshell, a man who just knows that when that bell rings–it’s time for him to inflict as much pain and misery onto his opponent’s body as possible. The problem with going into battle with that logic, Ryan, is that you aren’t going in with a game plan. Yeah, it’s great to injure your opponent–but if all you do is throw them around, throw your fists, flail your legs…there’s no rhyme or reason to what you’re doing. And that one fact, that is why Ryan Hawkins will fail this Monday.
Cavanagh snapped his fingers. It was a small gesture but it had a large symbolic meaning. As a New Yorker, he had fully embraced the expression that everything can change in a New York minute–this was no different. He knew that at one minute he could be the defending champion and a minute later–he could be the former champion.
John Cavanagh: That is all it will take. One split second decision, one slight miscalculation, one miniscule error and the entire thing comes unraveled. If I forget for just a cunt hair of a second that I am in a fight for my life–Ryan Hawkins goes to Keys 2 Success to face off against J Mont and we all know that at the conclusion of that imaginary contest…Shaun Hart finally gets what he wants–a handpicked World Champion. Well, I’m not going to be the one committing that faithful error on Monday. Ryan, all due respect, but I don’t need to beat you. I can slide underneath the ropes, walk away, let the zebra count to ten, take the L and get to maintain my status as IIW World Champion. You, on the other hand, have all of the pressure in the world–shit it might even be enough pressure to turn coal into a diamond. That would be the easy route, live to defend another day with every inch of my being in the same condition it started the night in. Fuck that shit! This Monday night Johnnie Cav locks horns with Ryan Hawkins and these two miserable bastards are going to go to war. This is going to be a war that would make Genghis Khan or Ragnar Lothbrok blush. Ryan Hawkins and John Cavanagh will be lucky to leave this match in one piece but one of us will leave the World Champion and that son of a bitch is gonna be good old Johnnie Cav. Ryan, I embrace the hell that I’m going to put myself through this Monday night and I wholeheartedly thank you for this tune up match before I end that prick J Mont’s career and crush that jerk off Shaun Hart’s dreams. See you soon.
John’s words stopped, he continued to stare into the camera as the scene cut to static.
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Post by The Celtic Club on Feb 11, 2023 21:25:33 GMT
The IIW faithful are greeted to the sound of static prior to the familiar sound of the default factory iPhone ring.The name on the glass screen simply read "Fitz". A large hand grabbed the phone and placed the device up to the right ear of Andy Donahue.
Andy Donahue: Yeah?
An inaudible voice, presumed to be "Fitz", is heard on the opposite end. Andy sighed.
Andy Donahue: Always with the bad news, huh? I'll let him know.
Andy removed the cell phone from his head, ended the call and rubbed the temples of his head as the scene cut back to static. The scene reopened within a couple of seconds to a flaming steel garbage pale that illuminated "The One Man Dynasty" John Cavanagh. The IIW World Heavyweight Champion turned towards the camera and began to speak.
John Cavanagh: Shaun fucking Hart. Am I right or am I right? This guy can’t seem to keep his nose out of my business. Not only does he want to make good old Johnnie Cav face off against Ryan Hawkins but the prick is also going to go ahead and add J Mont into this mix as the special guest referee? I have to be one hundred percent transparent with you two–this is a desperate play that just adds to the mountain of bullshit you’ve already thrown at me. Is this really how it’s going to be from here on out Shaun? What’s your plan next? After I find a way to defeat Ryan Hawkins while J Mont’s bitch ass is the retarded zebra is it going to be me facing off against J Mont in a Blindfold on Johnnie’s Eyes Match? And then after I find my way passed, is it going to be defending against Fred Debonair with one arm tied behind my back and both legs attached to one hundred pound weights? Then defend against Bam Miller and Justin York with both of the previous stipulations at the same time? I know, that all seems a bit outlandish and unnecessary but ain’t that what Shaun Hart’s reign as IIW’s head honcho has been? Isn’t it getting a bit repetitive? Where the fuck is Osh Vaughan’s ghost when we need it? Oh yeah, probably haunting some raunchy brothel. I might know the place actually over on 45th.
Cavanagh shook his head in disbelief. He knew that Shaun Hart was an annoying little prick on the best of days but this newest move was completely out of pocket.
John Cavanagh: Is this one of those situations where Shaun is realizing this may be his best bet at getting the title off of me? That’s gotta be it. I can’t figure out another reason why he would try and stack the odds this high against me when his new favorite weekend lover is set to face off against me for the World Championship in the not so distant future. I get it, Shaun, I really do. You were so certain that the pretty boy that used to blow you in the parking lot would be your hand picked “corporate” champion, if you will. I guess J Mont is your new attempt at christening your own Dwayne Johnson to my Steve Austin, ain’t that right…Vinny Mac? I guess it all is starting to make sense now–another delusional, egotistical, arrogant douche bag in charge of a multibillion dollar multinational corporation. Well, fuck me, if it ain’t just history repeating itself over again. Different names, different prize, different place, different time but in the end it’s the same old story, just our own version of it. I gotta feel bad for Ryan Hawkins though–I know I compared the guy to Foley the last time but this is getting a little sad really. We all remember Foley as the guy who took pain from all angles and just kept coming, similar to Hawkins, correct? Yeah, unfortunately for Hawkins he doesn’t have the loveable idiot part down yet. See, when Vince wanted The Rock as the number one he used Foley, we all know that, but in the end Foley turned it into a blessing. Ryan, it ain’t gonna go that way for you. J Mont may have wet dreams of getting to face you for the championship instead of myself but I’m going to find a method to conquer all of this madness that Shaun Hart has concocted in that demented, putrid bird brain of his.
Johnnie spat on the ground in disgust. He was used to the odds being stacked against him, he had absolutely no problem with it. As a matter of fact he often felt it helped build character, establish a chip on a shoulder that could help someone later in life. But this was getting a little absurd.
John Cavanagh: Whatever, what the fuck am I going to do? Stand here and bitch for a year and a half? Nah, ain’t no reason to continue that. Not when I do have an actual challenger in Ryan Hawkins that would have provided a challenge without the screwjob lineup that has since been presented. Ryan, I gotta be real, I’m sure that this may feel like a dream come true–a golden opportunity to challenge for the IIW World Championship. A chance to become the top dog in the professional wrestling industry. A fortuitous moment that should never be taken for granted as they don’t come by all too often. It’s just a shame that your opportunity has now been made a mockery of. You know you’re just a pawn in a chess game that is much larger than you, Lady Purge or any other freak show associated with The Purge can even begin to fathom. I remember what you were doing when I first entered the IIW locker room–I may have received more than my fair share of blows to the head in my career but my memory is still pretty clear…well, unless I conveniently catch a case of amnesia during questioning.
The Irishman chuckled for a moment and gathered himself. If there was one thing he had come to learn in life it was that you always had to find a little humor to ease a situation that may be eating at you a bit.
John Cavanagh: That psycho bitch you walk around with may have a few good points. She knows the odds are now severely stacked in your favor. I would never attempt to deny that, it’s the exact game that Shaun and Montuori like to play. They’re salivating at this one. J Mont has zero reason to count any pinfall that I make and every reason to fast count each time you get my shoulders down. I ain’t putting you down man, but even the bootleg sorceress, oracle, whatever the fuck she is knows that I’m not exactly the easiest guy to punk. On my worst day I’m better than ninety-nine percent of the people to have ever stepped foot inside of a wrestling ring. Like she said, I always have a plan and I always have a backup plan. Trust me, Ryan, this Mayhem will be no different–the plan may just need to be a bit more creative now that I have to deal with this completely legitimate match stipulation. Leave it to The Mecca, the bastard offspring of the CCPE, to try and defy the prestige of the World Championship that good old Johnnie Cav so proudly holds. Must really suck to be Ryan now that I say that. If Ryan won this title in a regular match he’s got himself some serious bragging rights and a decent foundation to start his title reign off with. The Dream Killer gets the one, two, three over The One Man Dynasty this Monday and he’s just the guy that got gifted a title reign because The Mecca decided to hedge their bets. I’ve never gone so far as to call you a walk in the park but Joe and Shaun already know I’ve defeated someone superior to Joe so they’re figuring the devil they don’t know must be a better option than the devil they know. I know that’s kind of the opposite of that old expression but nobody said Montuori or Hart were intelligent human beings.
The One Man Dynasty paused for a moment. “Intelligent?” he thought to himself. That word should never be mentioned alongside the name of a member of The Mecca under penalty of execution by firing squad. Suddenly, John started clapping slowly.
John Cavanagh: Congratulations, no seriously, they truly are in order. You and The Purge have succeeded in elevating Caleb Scott to a level the poor guy has never been at previously. Caleb is now the inaugural IIW Global Champion–Combat’s top prize, not too shabby. Major props to the man Caleb Scott ain’t ever had beef with him but maybe one day down the line the top dog of Combat and the top dog of Mayhem can find their way into the same squared circle. No, Ryan, the top dog of Mayhem isn’t going to be you after Monday. It ain’t gonna be a big, happy championship family over in the locker room of The Purge. At the conclusion of Monday Night Mayhem it’s going to be a bit more of a somber occasion for you and the rest of your crew of misfits. How are you going to be able to live with yourself after you realize you lost your opportunity to be crowned the IIW World Champion when you had literally every single goddamn odd in your favor? You mentioned that this match is a great chance for you to remind everyone of who Ryan Hawkins is but it’s looking more and more like the death of whatever legacy you believe you have. You were on fire when I first arrived here, since then I’ve lapped you at least twice–International Championship and World Championship look lovely on my resume but, yet, I don’t see either of those accolades located anywhere on yours. Maybe it was a typo but I’m pretty sure you just haven’t found a way to reach that next level in this profession. I hope you’ll be able to bounce back from this upcoming defeat you have in store for yourself on Monday night and finally figure out how to get to that next level. Why? Because at some point, you’ll probably be approaching the front of the line for another opportunity at the top prize again because I fully intend on knocking down every single pin that is set up by management. You can say that we’ve all forgotten what you’re capable of but that’s a flat lie…Johnnie Cav never forgets what challenges an athlete can bring to the table.
Hell’s Kitchen’s Favorite Son wagged his finger back and forth in the air signifying “no”. He always found it a bit comical when other wrestlers claimed people had been overlooking them or not showing them their due respect. The way Johnnie saw it, this was professional wrestling, a blood sport where you went out and earned the respect of your peers–it ain’t a motorcycle gang, you can’t bitch for respect, smack one or two little poindexters at a bar and say “yeah, they respect me now!”
John Cavanagh: Like I said, Ryan, I ain’t writing you off. I didn’t get to the pinnacle of this profession by mailing it in and thinking that any match was going to be a walk in the park. If anything I will be over preparing for you. While others may think it be best that I keep the majority of my focus on Joe Montuori and whatever little trick Shaun Hart has up his sleeve next the reality of the situation is that if good old Johnnie Cav isn’t able to retain against Ryan Hawkins, well, then Johnnie Cav ain’t gotta worry about Joe Montuori and Shaun Hart anymore now does he? And for that reason, you have taken center stage Ryan. You are the name that keeps running through my mind–not because you’re better than Joe, not because I believe you have a higher likelihood of defeating me but because a smart champion focuses on the task at hand. Am I making my plans for the future, of course, but first I will take care of The Dream Killer this Monday night on Mayhem. Those of you who decide to tune in this week to Netflix will be treated to a rarity–a World Championship match highlighting Mayhem. While I’m sure Joe and Shaun’s mothers wait anxiously to see the screwjob and all ten of The Purge’s fans hope that these shenanigans bare fruit…you’ll all be left feeling empty handed at the conclusion of Mayhem. See, I said it when I won this championship, Johnnie Cav is going to prove himself to be the greatest World Champion that this promotion has EVER seen, regardless of incarnation. As far as I’m concerned there are two ways to do that–hold the championship longer than anyone else or retain the championship more times than anyone else. As far as Johnnie Cav is concerned, he’s going to take option number three…both of the above. I ain’t letting this title belt out of my grasp until I’ve surpassed every championship reign and defended that son of a bitch more than any other prick to ever hold it. Sorry Jonny C, sorry Jake E. Dangerously, I’m going to do everything in my power to erase your two names from the history books. This will be defense number three, can somebody get me an actual concrete number on how many more I’ve got before I make the world forget Jonny C actually holds a record in this company?
The leader of The Celtic Club chuckled. Jonny may not have anything to do with him at the moment and Jake is, wherever the hell he may be, but he couldn’t help but throw a little shade their way.
John Cavanagh: Ryan, you’re one hundred percent correct when you say I want to be the one to run The Mecca out of the company. Is it because I love this promotion with all of my heart? Maybe you’re right, maybe Johnnie Cav doesn’t. Maybe I just despise what The Mecca is, what they were and everything that each one of those spare parts represent. Shaun Hart, Joe Montuori, Fred Debonair, Bam Miller, that new ogre they got and the world’s least favorite couple, the Yorks, none of them deserve a spot in this promotion. We’ve seen their buddies be defeated by both myself and your side project, Caleb Scott, and seen both of those assclowns pack their bags and leave once they realized that the competition might be a bit more fierce around here than they could have ever imagined. I may like to dominate, you may be correct that I’d prefer if The Celtic Club was running the show, but one thing I’ve never been cool with was cowardice. They made the expression that birds of a feather flock together and it couldn’t ever be more true. The Purge, a bunch of sick puppies united in their quest for blood. The Celtic Club, a bunch of tough guys from different walks of life that are just trying to make sure they end up in a better spot than their parents when the reaper calls. The Mecca, the former CCPE, a bunch of morons who just can’t seem to get out of their own god damned way!
Cavanagh took a deep breath. It was far from a secret the disdain he had for The Mecca and every time he mentioned their names he could feel his blood boil just a bit more. It took a lot to get to the point were an adversary had actually got under John’s skin but Shaun Hart and his minions had managed it over the last six months or so…touche boys.
John Cavanagh: Ryan, you can sit there and go through all of the pain and damage you did to Crush before I faced him, I don’t give a shit. Crush was always a faulted athlete. When you claim to have no gimmicks yet call yourself Crush and The King of Extreme it’s kind of obvious that paint chip Cheerios were a constant fixture in your diet. The ECE Champion has never been anything more than someone running his mouth, pleading for attention, hoping that some moron sitting at home would actually take him as a serious threat. He’s got a run as UK Champion under his belt so can’t really write him off completely but let’s just say he ain’t on my level. Shit, Crush wasn’t even on Andy’s level and my boy still has plenty more to learn about this sport. Why you would bring up the mental torture you put Crush through I have no idea, it’s not too hard to torture someone with a brain the size of a goddamn pea. Watch, I’ll send a word search to Crush’s locker room on Monday and the guy will probably blow a gasket. This poor fool can’t dodge the gunfire even when he’s got nothing to do with the match. My condolences to Mama Crush, she shouldn’t have to constantly hear her baby boy being ridiculed for no reason.
Johnnie smiled, the first full smile the IIW faithful had been treated to in quite some time. He had learned to live and let live a bit more, not be so tightly wound but the events of the past few months have done nothing but made him into a ticking time bomb–one that might just go off in Ryan Hawkins’ vicinity in about two days’ time.
John Cavanagh: Care to know the main issue I see with your chances of taking the IIW World Championship from me on February 13th, Ryan? It’s your own arrogance. I know, it’s kind of an odd thing to say about the guy who talks to a doll, prays to witches and wizards and believes in things that go bump in the night but it’s the truth. You make assumptions that I am fighting The Mecca for all the wrong reason, that I only defeated Crush due to mental damage you previously inflicted, that because I’m Irish I follow the Roman Catholic Church–boy give it the fuck up! Stop making assumptions, stop jumping to conclusions and maybe, one day, you, your drugged out oracle and your guys’ little sex doll can finally figure out that you’re all nothing more than a novelty. A group of oddities that fill the needs of a niche group of fans. The type of people that liked the Firefly Funhouse Inferno Match…that niche. Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t need the assistance of God to get the better of you at Mayhem. Quite honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass if God is on my side, your side or taking a nap for this one because God ain’t got shit to do with this struggle my doll loving friend. This one is coming down to pure ability, grit and determination and I promise you I’ve got more of all three of those attributes than you could ever dream of having. While you were busy taking part of Annabelle and mixing it with Freddy Kreuger and sprinkling a little bit of Sister Abigail on top of it, I was busy perfecting my craft and becoming the best this company has to offer! You think that your little gimmicks and special effects are going to be able to stand the test when you meet the IIW’s Final Boss inside of that squared circle? If you still do then I plead with you to pass that Mary Jane you’ve been puffing on over this way because I need to get some of that shit!
The so called "Irish Warrior", according to Hawkins, shook his head back and forth. We all knew he loved a good smoking session but his opponent was clearing smoking something manufactured in some top secret government lab to believe he was going to leave Johnnie without the IIW World Championship come Tuesday morning.
John Cavanagh: One thing I promise you this Monday Night, Mr. Freddy Kreuger, after Monday Night ends...it won't be Johnnie Cav having nightmares about Ryan Hawkins. In fact, it will be the exact opposite of the situation that you've proposed. You and Lady Purge will have nothing but recurring, vivid nightmares of the golden opportunity that was squandered when Johnnie Cav pins your shoulders to the mat and a reluctant J Mont is forced to make the three count, thus sealing his fate. That's really what this is all about in the end...get the belt off of Johnnie because Shaun, Montuori and the rest of the jolly morons in The Mecca know that they've met their superior. Like I said Ryan, I feel some sympathy towards you for being nothing more than a glorified pawn in this battle which is just one stage of a much larger, overarching conflict for the heart and soul of this promotion. I just hope that you find a way to bounce back, no reason for me to live rent free in your head as well because you should know...after I'm done with you...I'll just remember you as one of the many who couldn't end what will be a historic championship reign. Get some rest and sleep, Dream Killer, because I'm sleeping easy.
The scene cut to static.
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