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Post by Osh Vaughan on May 31, 2021 14:01:18 GMT
vs Acheron Revok vs TJ Alexander TJ is recovering from his loss in the International title tournament and Acheron Revok has stated his intent at the recent Mayhem
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Post by Acheron "Headsman" Revok on Jun 7, 2021 14:01:11 GMT
“A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.”
Prospero, The Tempest, Act IV, Scene 1
The viewer returns to the high-ceilinged room – populated with pristine male mannequins, replicas of famous statues, and paintings – that is Acheron “Headsman” Revok’s “workspace.” It is likely dusk, and the room is lit by candles placed on the desks that also litter the room.
The shot is wide, with Revok contemplating something at a desk in the middle. Revok is dressed in all black -- a t-shirt with the Earth sigil on it, denim jeans, and unlaced black boots. His hair is tied back. Revok, at 6'5'', appears to be slimmer than usual. Some type of early industrial music haunts the space.
On the desk is Revok's executioner's hood, a resin model of the human heart, an antique straight razor, and some old books. Approximately five feet away from the desk, Dierdre lays in a "nest" of Micro Machine-themed blankets, his bountiful heft bottled up by a SCUBA suit. He appears to be sleeping and dreaming.
Dierdre (muttering, asleep): Oh. Well…yes. I do like to wear my slacks high on the waist. What? Adults can’t get Happy Meals? It's for my child then. What? Of course I can sire children.
Revok stifles a laugh and the camera zooms in on him. He stands up and begins to walk towards some of the mannequins. The camera follows him from behind.
He pauses, in disbelief, as he comes upon a mannequin with a tiny and hollow strap-on dildo draped over its shoulder.
Revok (yelling, in his stilted and clownish voice): Dierdre, what fresh hell is this? I don’t have a problem with the implement itself, but why the curious storage choice? And is this gently used?
Dierdre (suddenly awake): Ohhhh, sorry. That’s my fanny pack to hold my Skittles. I got so wrapped up in pulling up my pants that I’d forgotten where I’d left it. I usually keep it in my car seat.
Revok: …oh, Dierdre. If I didn’t love you so much, I would have the good doctor make a house call to cure what ails you.
Dierdre stumbles over to the mannequin, takes the “Skittles fanny pack” and disappears.
Revok: TJ Alexander. Unfortunately, you are my first IIW opponent. If I were you, I would be locked in a room right now feverishly attempting to determine who made the call to ensure that my career ends next Monday, June 14th. And at the hands of a "new guy," no less.
As both personas and performers, we all have things that define us. It might be a personality trait, a mat style, or a personal or historical event that inspires us to do what we do. As far as I can tell, Alexander, you are defined by a pair of immensely unflattering concepts: inertia and provincialism.
Regarding the former, you clearly just don’t have much time for this business. The passivity you’ve demonstrated during your short time in IIW is alarming. You fancy yourself an “aerial assassin,” but any time you try one of your seldom-practiced tricks from the sky on me, I promise you that I will catch your frail shape and aggressively bury you with The Dull Axe. Any and every goddamn time. Just like I did to Bobbi 2 Condi several weeks ago.
And because your all-encompassing prosaic existence irritates me so much, after the first time you feel the Axe, I’ll wait however long it takes for you to get up again so you can try another one of your little somersaults. I will carry you to the top rope and force you to do it. And I will catch you again, and bury you again. I will challenge your heart to continue beating and your brain to continue thinking. I will absolutely do more than necessary to defeat you. I will acquaint you with the Outer Dark. You will never be the same again after we meet.
As for the latter concept, your provincialism; well, you are a boring, unremarkable man from a boring and unremarkable town. As most men who came up in tiny and nugatory locales are. It speaks for itself, and it’s pathetic. You are essentially faceless in this organization and in the world.
I am motivated by the rage I feel toward the ghoul that slashed my neck and left me with this silly voice. But you are so unendingly insignificant in comparison to him that that motivation is entirely ineffectual here. So I’ll just have to reach – though not very deep, mind you – into my soul and tap into the vast part of it that is singularly focused on causing havoc and pain. The Outer Dark.
When I ponder the relative death blow of this oration, my mind takes me, unmistakably, to a single place – Dierdre wouldn’t even deign to pee on you. And to my knowledge, Dierdre has never met a man he wouldn’t pee on.
As the screen fades out, Dierdre can be heard screaming "PEEPEE!!!" maniacally, from the shadows. A crashing sound resonates, suggesting that Dierdre has tripped over something and fallen hard.
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Post by TJ Alexander on Jun 7, 2021 17:23:41 GMT
[The scene opens up and were inside of a hall-way, a very long-wall in the IIW arena. As the camera pans down the long hallway we see that TJ Alexander is sitting on a production box. TJ is wearing some blue jeans and a black hooded jacket.]
“It’s been several weeks now since the Worlds Collide pay-per-view that anyone has saw me, it’s been several weeks now that I wrestled two matches in one night, one match was a tag team match with Mickey KinKade against Tyler Debonair and Thomas Stone. And the other match I had was against Tyler Debonair in the International title match, in which Tyler Debonair beat me and became the International champion. Most people thought that they saw the last of me and thought that I would tuck my tale in between my legs and run back across the pond, but despite my start here in IIW I’m going to fight my way through and earn the respect. I have decided to stay and fight.”
[TJ pauses]
“And now that I am staying and since the worlds collide pay-per-view a host of new faces have arrived in IIW and one of them is my next opponent that person is Acheron Revok and it seems that Acheron Revok is already making assumptions and what happens when you make assumptions, it makes your look like are arsehole. And Acheron Revok you’ve stepped into IIW and already has an opinion on me. You’ve allowed what you’ve seen to form a small opinion and I’m gonna be happy to wipe that opinion from your face. I’m gonna be happy stepping into the ring and going head-to-head with you Revok.”
[TJ Pauses]
“But most of what you’ve said is complete and utter false, it’s a lie and you will be shown up. You said I am unremarkable for the company; I am markable for this company and any other company. I am a face you can put on a dollar note or on championship gold. And I know I am down the pecking order right now but a win against you Acheron Revok will catapult me into the conversation. I am going to make myself a name for this company. I am going to wear gold by the end of the year and I am going to out-shine everyone now that worlds collide is over and done with.”
[TJ Smiles]
“From what I see in you Revok is a reject from bare-knuckle boxing and that wrestling is only a way back into that world of boxing. Well my passion for this business is higher than you can imagine and I wear my heart on my sleeve and what I can do in the ring will shock and awe you. You Revok may like to keep it on the ground in a mat style wrestling but I will take to the air and I will out-shine you. With what I can do I’m gonna’ make you walk around in circles and your head spin like the exorcist before I beat you. “
[TJ Pauses]
“I know that you’re still just assuming about me and I am going to be happy when I walk away with the victory. This kid from a small town making it big is an underdog story and I will succeed. I will win and I will boost my stock here in IIW. There’s nothing you can do about it. Acheron Revok never just assume on anyone and never judge someone on what you see and hear, when you see me across the ring you’ll see that I am serious about this. You’ll see that I am more than just a rookie and I am more than what you’ve seen. I am the future of IIW.”
[TJ Smiles]
“Acheron Revok you say you are motivated by rage, well I am motivated by passion and that passion trump’s whatever rage you think you have and I beat its all ego anyway, I bet in a week’s time after I beat your arse you’re the one that will disappear. You’re the one that will realise that wrestling isn’t for you and you will be in some dingy dark barn somewhere trying bare-knuckle boxing again. I will own that ring and I will own you, I will have a move to counter any move you have in store and I will always be two steps ahead. “
[TJ smiles]
“I can’t wait to prove you wrong about me Revok and I can’t wait to take the win and shove it in your face, knowing you are on your back looking up at me with my hands raised is going to be a joy to be seen. I will also be happy to send you back to the bare-knuckle scene because you are not worthy of being in the wrestling ring let alone being in the ring with a calibre of talent that I am. You will witness it first hand and you will eat your own words at Mayhem.”
[Scene ends]
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Post by Acheron "Headsman" Revok on Jun 11, 2021 13:40:20 GMT
"My ascension removes me from the disk in the loop. I am near the final stage. Some mornings I can see the infernal plane.” -- Errol Childress, True Detective
It is February 2015. At about 1:15 a.m., several inches of snow on the roof of an Elks Lodge in Maryville, Tennessee melts under drooping and dilapidated street lights overhanging the edifice.
Warmth is radiating from the building itself; however, it is not from the hall inside, but the basement below it. The basement is surprisingly large, with a maximum capacity of 350-400 people. And it is full. Spectators, mostly at the tail end of a weeknight drunk, are preparing to leave the basement by way of stairs that lead to the alley behind the building. At the center of the basement is an elevated wooden platform covered with blood. A goofy little fellow, on his hands and knees, scrubs out the blood on the platform that hasn’t soaked into the wood, farting and cackling.
In a back room sits Acheron Revok, very obviously in disbelief, removing bloody tape from his hands. The scar on his neck that is a faded, lurking specter in present day is then fresh – a garish magenta, raised, and gnarled. One of his eyes is swollen shut, his nose is obviously broken, and he appears to be nursing a broken rib or two.
Back in the basement, spectators shake their heads, obviously having seen something troublingly transcendent.
Spectator 1: Ah’ve never sane eenythang like it. No one’s ever taken Revok that far. 33-0 all over the South. And who the hell was that Jack guy? Ain’t seen, nor read about ‘eem anywhere on this circuit.
Spectator 2: And both fellas near death, but…for what? Who’n the hell even won that thang?
Revok looks up in the back room and sees "The Country Doctor" Jack Hill, with injuries nearly identical to his own.
Jack Hill: Whoo boy... that sure was some kind o'scrape out there. Gon' be feelin' this'n fer quite a while...
Hill pauses, waiting for Revok to respond, but after a few moments of silence, he sucks his teeth and offers a curt nod.
Hill: Anyhow, jus' wanted t'say thank ye fer the fight; it sure was a learnin' experience. Maybe we'll fin' ourselves crossin' paths again - maybe can have another go when there ain't no bell t'cut short our fun.
Revok puts his head back down, pauses for a moment, spits out a tooth, stands up to follow Hill, but he is gone.
***
It is now June 2016, and Revok stands outside of a rundown boxing gym in southern West Virginia in the very late evening. He has clearly just finished some kind of fight, his taped hands are bloody and he appears to have a few broken knuckles, but there isn’t a scratch on him otherwise. A slight man stands six feet away from him, behind three hulking bodyguard-types, trying to explain something to Revok, with visceral fear in his eyes.
Slight Man (Billy): Revok, you’ve burned every bridge in the South, and word has traveled North, as well. I don’t know how else ta say it…but you’re done in bare knuckle. Bare knuckle means PUNCHES, MAN! You’re fuckin’ tossin’ dudes around and droppin’ ‘em on their skulls Undytaker style and you have been for near six months now!
Revok: Billy, I merely put a new spin on the contest. I’m an innovator. Once I put the fists down, these brutes know what’s coming and they can defend themselves as best they know how. No one is stopping them from “Undytaker-ing” me back, after all. They just can’t. And the people love it, which is all you dickheads seem to care about anyway. When a man becomes unbeatable, he becomes boring. I’ve added something fresh to the mix.
Billy looks pensively at the largest bodyguard, who hands Revok a fat manila envelope, presumably filled with cash. Revok aggressively slaps the manila envelope out of the bodyguard’s hands, and walks away. Dierdre comes out of the boxing gym and follows him, excitedly.
Revok sees a man and does a double-take, but still cannot recall who the man is. The man is Jack Hill.
Hill: Acheron Revok, terror o'the never-were boxers o'the deep south. You'n yer... li'l friend there don't seem t'reco'nize me in mah sund'y best. Name's Jack Hill; we had us a fearsome tussle in Tennessee a ways back.
Jack pauses for a moment as he approaches the pair, wide winning grin standing in stark contrast to the state Acheron has last left him in.
Hill: I's passin' through an' heard that y'might be appearin' here tonight, so I thought I'd come'n see if'ns mah recollection o'yer fearsome fury in the ring was backed up by the current reality. Also happened t'hear that y'might be on yer way out o'the circuit, due t'some truly despicable collusion from some folks what don' know their asses from a hole in the ground.
Revok starts to turn to walk away, having heard enough mockery for one lifetime, but Hill jogs around to get in front of him once again, hands raised up in a placating gesture.
Hill: Now, I ain't here t'kick a feller when he's down. T'the contrary! I's here t'offer a hand back up onto yer feet, an' point y'all in a new direction. See - these folks here, they ain't got th'imagination t'appreciate the kinda potential you gots about ya. They wants t'saddle ya with all these restrictions in the name o'parity - tryin' t'give fellers what can' hold a candle to ya in that ring a puncher's chance. But mah friend, it ain't gotta be that way. There's all kinds o'folks tusslin'n all sorta differ'nt ways. I been travellin' aroun' mahself findin' folks like that, finding ample diversion an' opportunities fer growin' mah... independent business, too.
Hill then reaches into his pocket and grabs a business card, which he holds out towards Revok. Revok eyes Hill and doesn’t take it, but Dierdre does.
Hill: Y'might wanna think about lookin' into it yerself. If'ns y'got the time t'spare, that is.
He then winks at the pair, turns on his heels, and walks out into the darkness.
Once Hill is out of sight, Revok’s demeanor alters, indicating that he is pondering Hill’s words. He takes the card from Dierdre.
Revok (muttering): Professional wrestling…
Revok looks towards the sky.
***
A fan video of an outdoor supercard event from a tiny indie in California in the summer of 2018 blips onto a screen. The ring is obviously in declining shape and there are no seats surrounding it, but about 300 people crowd around the ring.
In the ring, Revok drags an opponent towards the corner of the ring. Both men are clearly very tired, and both men’s faces are covered with blood.
Unnamed Solo Announcer: Folks, we may be about to witness one of the most meteoric rises by a rookie in the west coast independent wrestling scene. Both of these men are at the end of their ropes, but Revok is somehow standing.
Revok ascends the turnbuckle and lands the Death from Above (split-legged moonsault) on his opponent. It takes him nearly 90 seconds to stand up and then pull his opponent up. He then drops his opponent with The Dull Axe (cradle piledriver), and pins him for the three count. In a very ECW-like move, the crowd erupts, but not just for Revok; for both performers, because of the show they put on.
Announcer: We have a new California champion! “Headsman” Revok now holds the strap after just six months in the company!
The referee approaches Revok with the belt. Revok reluctantly takes it, drops it on the ground, and flees the ring, never to wrestle for the company again.
***
In the present day, the screen fades in to a shot of a grocery store aisle from the front end. There are pallets strewn about and a compact man is polishing the floor with a large machine, so it is likely overnight.
No customers are in sight until Acheron Revok turns the corner of the aisle at the far end of the aisle and slowly pushes the cart towards the camera. As Revok and the cart approach, it becomes clear that Dierdre is in the cart, though obviously too big for it, and is sitting among a variety of processed, shelf-stable meat products.
Revok: TJ Alexander. I was astounded by the boldness you demonstrated in attempting to string together some words about our upcoming meeting! I may have underestimated you! Unfortunately, you failed to finish the research that you started. I am obviously done with bare knuckle boxing and I am singularly focused on this world now. And, to be honest, I couldn’t go back to boxing, even if I wanted to.
[Dierdre lets out a slow fart and giggles. Revok pauses.]
While enduring your tedious harangue, during which you extolled the virtues of your passion for this and that, a couple of things struck me.
First, as I watch modern wrestling documentaries, which are all over the place these days, I notice that a common thread is that there is a point or an event in the wrestler subject’s life that they develop that passion. They just knew they wanted to become a wrestler.
But how many thousands, even millions, of would-be performers come to that point or experience that point in their lives, but never have a documentary made about them, much less make a mark in the business?
As an agent of chaos, I am well aware that anything can happen. And I have been wrong before. But I fear, for your sake, that you are one of those poor souls who never make a mark. Alexander, I dare you to prove me wrong.
And passion? In this world, as it pertains to effectiveness, success, and capability, passion is folly. It is a sadly luminous fiction. TJ, do you know who else has a passion for this business? Every slobbering and balding chubbette who lives in their parents’ basement and has a wall of VHS wrestling tapes. So what sets you apart from them? The only difference I can discern is that you’re not obese.
[Dierdre releases a high-pitched machine gun fart while tears pour from his beady eyes. Revok nods his head in appreciation.]
In the end, grasping for whatever humanity I have left, I feel that your earnestness is endearing. And I think you are a sweet boy. But none of that will matter on Monday night. You are not only my opponent, but my first opponent. So I’ll have to make an example out of you.
Finally…nothing to say about about my speculation that Dierdre would not pee on you? For shame.
[Dierdre unleashes a thunder fart, a monolithic slab of low-end fury, but does not titter this time, as it is apparent to him that he has blown his ass out in his hot pants. He touches his lumpy ass, confirming that his clothes are overflowing with acrid waste. He pensively waits to see what Revok will do. The screen cuts quickly once Revok starts cackling and Dierdre joins in.]
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