Post by franchiseface on Mar 12, 2022 0:02:01 GMT -5
It was late.
About one thirty AM.
A cell phone rings.
About one thirty AM.
A cell phone rings.
“Idiot Boyfriend” by Jimmy Fallon plays on a loop from the iPhone speaker. After a few moments, you can hear shuffling and then a dim desk lamp turns on and Zelda Knite answers her phone.
“Hello?”
“Z! I hate it here, come pick me up! I want to come home.”
Zelda perked up a little as she noticed the fear and desperation in his voice.
“What? What happened? I thought you were there to take over the company.”
Cut to Steve pacing back and forth in his Halifax hotel room.
“We were. We’ve kicked the Bastards ass twice in a row and now we got a shot at all the titles.”
Steve stops and let’s out a sigh.
But like, Donzig gave me a bunch of poems that don’t rhyme about the devil,
“We were. We’ve kicked the Bastards ass twice in a row and now we got a shot at all the titles.”
Steve stops and let’s out a sigh.
But like, Donzig gave me a bunch of poems that don’t rhyme about the devil,
Timeless and Roxy both keep giving me “the eyes” when they think the other isn’t looking, and Primal just gave me a full set of armor…”
“Hey that last thing sounds kind of cool.”
Zelda said with a smile as she pulled herself up to a seated position on the bed.
“…made entirely from his ass hair.”
Zelda’s smile transforms into a sickened scowl.
“Ewww. I might actually throw up.”
“Yeah…”
Steve holds his stomach.
“I’ve already puked enough. I don’t know what those guys are trying to say, but I’m good.”
“As weird and gross as it all is, maybe they are just trying to show they like you. A sign of friendship.”
Steve looks over at the stinky poop hair armor, the creepy devil book with weird aura, and a note with a lipstick kiss that he randomly got at a Timeless party.
“You think this is just their way of saying they want me to be their friend?
Steve thinks about what it would be like if he and the rest of the Empire became close.
His shoulders slump.
“Do I have to?”
Steve holds his stomach.
“I’ve already puked enough. I don’t know what those guys are trying to say, but I’m good.”
“As weird and gross as it all is, maybe they are just trying to show they like you. A sign of friendship.”
Steve looks over at the stinky poop hair armor, the creepy devil book with weird aura, and a note with a lipstick kiss that he randomly got at a Timeless party.
“You think this is just their way of saying they want me to be their friend?
Steve thinks about what it would be like if he and the rest of the Empire became close.
His shoulders slump.
“Do I have to?”
——
“Well what do we have here?”
The Face of the Franchise has an arrogant smirk on his face as he holds a copy of the card poster for Crowning of a Champion.
“Looks like that says Steve Awesome and Donzig; The Empire verse The Bastards for the NPW Tag Team Titles.”
He whistles in awe at the statement and then pulls his sunglasses down to peer over the frame.
“Boy, this is escalating quickly.”
He says with a sardonic grin.
“It feels like just yesterday I returned to get this Empire party started and we left you boys laying in your own spit and blood. Then we called your tough guy bluff and whipped your asses again. You can say you didn’t lose, but you sure as hell didn’t look like winners with your arms pulled behind your back crying in agony. That’s for damn sure.”
He gives a confident nod of the head.
“And now on March Thirtieth, Donzig and I will come and take the last thing you have left, Bastards. We are going to take those tag team titles from you.”
He shakes his head in disbelief.
“It’s all happening so fast for me. It must feel like a whirlwind for you guys. They always say the fall from the top hurts the worst.”
He shrugs.
“But like Donzig said, we were never really interested in the tag team titles. No way, we have already gotten what we wanted out of you, Bastards.”
Steve stopped and looked up into the camera.
“So you can go ahead and put your cheap outlet mall shirt back on, Rob Riot.”
He continues on.
“We got exactly what we wanted out of every member of the roster who has mentioned our name or came running down to the ring to try to stop us.”
He looks up into the camera.
“We got your attention.”
He smiled arrogantly.
“We got every single one of you sons a bitches to stop and take notice and realize that The Empire is the real threat to every one of you.”
“Gus Arnold knows it. Why do you think he’s showered us with all these title shots. He’s just trying to keep us happy to prolong the inevitable.
He shrugs.
“But so far, all we’ve wanted was to come in and grab the spotlight.”
He glares into the camera.
“And now that The Empire has your attention…”
He smiles menacingly.
“It’s gonna be a sell out at the monitor tonight folks…I want everyone to watch, the fans at home, the sellout crowd, and the boys in the back. As Donzig and I walk into Crowning of a Champion and put the final nail in the coffin of the Bastards.”
He glares into the camera.
“They want to up the ante and make it some kind of big Xtreme last man standing fiasco, we’ll that’s fine by me. It’s not my first choice, friggen Donzig, but if that’s the way you want your ass kicked, then what kind of person would I really be if I said no?”
Another shrug.
“So here’s the deal, Bastards.”
He sighs and shakes his head.
“For the third show in a row you are going to get your ass kicked and left laying by The Empire. And this time we take the tag team titles. I’m always down to be a champion, but more importantly I’m ready to take those belts from you, because I know how much you cherish them and value them as part of your team.”
“The Empire will leave you broken and with nothing left. You’ll have no choice but to go home to the back of the line.”
“And it will be a good message for everyone else who is watching…”
He glares into the camera, brimming with confidence.
“You just don’t fuck with The Empire.”
He smirks.
“And after we beat you for a third time, it’s over, Bastards.”
He cuts the air.
“Sit down.”
He sneers.
“Be humble.”
He crotch chops.
“Suck it.”
The Face of the Franchise has an arrogant smirk on his face as he holds a copy of the card poster for Crowning of a Champion.
“Looks like that says Steve Awesome and Donzig; The Empire verse The Bastards for the NPW Tag Team Titles.”
He whistles in awe at the statement and then pulls his sunglasses down to peer over the frame.
“Boy, this is escalating quickly.”
He says with a sardonic grin.
“It feels like just yesterday I returned to get this Empire party started and we left you boys laying in your own spit and blood. Then we called your tough guy bluff and whipped your asses again. You can say you didn’t lose, but you sure as hell didn’t look like winners with your arms pulled behind your back crying in agony. That’s for damn sure.”
He gives a confident nod of the head.
“And now on March Thirtieth, Donzig and I will come and take the last thing you have left, Bastards. We are going to take those tag team titles from you.”
He shakes his head in disbelief.
“It’s all happening so fast for me. It must feel like a whirlwind for you guys. They always say the fall from the top hurts the worst.”
He shrugs.
“But like Donzig said, we were never really interested in the tag team titles. No way, we have already gotten what we wanted out of you, Bastards.”
Steve stopped and looked up into the camera.
“So you can go ahead and put your cheap outlet mall shirt back on, Rob Riot.”
He continues on.
“We got exactly what we wanted out of every member of the roster who has mentioned our name or came running down to the ring to try to stop us.”
He looks up into the camera.
“We got your attention.”
He smiled arrogantly.
“We got every single one of you sons a bitches to stop and take notice and realize that The Empire is the real threat to every one of you.”
“Gus Arnold knows it. Why do you think he’s showered us with all these title shots. He’s just trying to keep us happy to prolong the inevitable.
He shrugs.
“But so far, all we’ve wanted was to come in and grab the spotlight.”
He glares into the camera.
“And now that The Empire has your attention…”
He smiles menacingly.
“It’s gonna be a sell out at the monitor tonight folks…I want everyone to watch, the fans at home, the sellout crowd, and the boys in the back. As Donzig and I walk into Crowning of a Champion and put the final nail in the coffin of the Bastards.”
He glares into the camera.
“They want to up the ante and make it some kind of big Xtreme last man standing fiasco, we’ll that’s fine by me. It’s not my first choice, friggen Donzig, but if that’s the way you want your ass kicked, then what kind of person would I really be if I said no?”
Another shrug.
“So here’s the deal, Bastards.”
He sighs and shakes his head.
“For the third show in a row you are going to get your ass kicked and left laying by The Empire. And this time we take the tag team titles. I’m always down to be a champion, but more importantly I’m ready to take those belts from you, because I know how much you cherish them and value them as part of your team.”
“The Empire will leave you broken and with nothing left. You’ll have no choice but to go home to the back of the line.”
“And it will be a good message for everyone else who is watching…”
He glares into the camera, brimming with confidence.
“You just don’t fuck with The Empire.”
He smirks.
“And after we beat you for a third time, it’s over, Bastards.”
He cuts the air.
“Sit down.”
He sneers.
“Be humble.”
He crotch chops.
“Suck it.”
