2014.07.11: PWN - LEGACY - The Gentleman's Challenge
Independence Day... wow! What a show! Full of chills, thrills, twists, turns, and some really epic beatings.
Take Terry John, for example. Take Ryan Hawkins too. Hell, why not take Bulldozer Brixton most of all! Sure, he wasn't in the match, but my fuck did he get some beat.
So badly, so so sooooHOHOHO badly, that he cried. That's right, you read that correctly, he. cried. He made a promise he couldn't keep, and...
Say, why don't we just cue to the appearance of The Number One Hit-Maker and Gentleman Thug themselves so they can tell you more? Hmm? Shall we? Let's!
And appear they do, as Johnny Bonecrusher watches on whilst his man Ade, Adrian... Abernathy... Gates for those not in the know just yet, takes his fisticuffs game to new heights as he goes one-on-one with... a... kangaroo... in the ring... in front of many spectators.
But we'll get back to that shortly. Time for a piece of information that may be a tough pill for many to swallow. It's becoming commoner knowledge that The Johnny's always on the lookout for potential clients, but did you also know that he's also taking young wrestlers under his wing, training them in secret locations in the hopes they become stars that shine even greater than he kinda sorta does right now?
Here's a spoonful of sugar for that pill now: Johnny Bonecrusher's been training Twitter darling Liz Smalls. Oh, did I say "darling"? Hmm, I'm sure the actual word's a close equivalent, but never mind. After a rocky start, and then a rocky restart, the Canadian native has finally begun taking his knowledge of professional wrestling and applying it to the 19-year-old in the attempts at creating something so great that even if people frown upon his association with the California girl, they'll be able to see past that and understand he's doing John's work.
But he won't be able to take all the credit; some other schmucks are trying to train her too! Surely their insight isn't as great as his, and he'll have a lot of damage to repair in order to turn Liz Smalls, yes, you're reading that right, Liz Smalls... into a force even greater than his most reviled of lady wrestler enemies in Artemis Kaiser.
The hard part will be convincing her to come to either MSW or Legacy so he can manage her to the top personally. All so he can laugh in Artemis' FUCK!!! FACE!!!
Sorry for the swearing. Trying to keep it to one f-bomb per.
Anyway, back to the kangaroo.
Oh, is this me now? I thought I was narrating all of this, but I guess not, huh? Well, whatever, I'm back. So yeah, my man Ade's in the ring, boxing a kangaroo - but only because we couldn't hire on a bear in time. Ade ducks and weaves, delves out debilitating body blows to the much larger marsupially-inclined foe. Tiring of this child's play, the kangaroo unleashes a devastating double-foot kick to the abdomen of the Brixton native, causing him to crumple and roll out of the ring. First aid attendants quickly swoop in, examine the big man, ask him some questions, wrap up the ol' breadbasket with some bandages... then get shoved aside for their troubles!
Ade's mad now! Pain is a memory that emotional amnesia's taken away from him! He's not planning on going down this way! Oh, my man Ade! My maaaannnn Aaaade! My man!! He's so badass. I'm almost jealous of his tenacity and fortitude!
...Almost.
So the kangaroo looks on expectantly at the now-injured albeit temporarily-invincible Gentleman Thug. Now, the kangaroo was no thug, but he was also a threat that needed to be neutralized. The kangaroo wasn't acting out of malice; it was just a gimmicked beast in a land he doesn't belong in. I felt bad for the poor bastard, so I roll into the ring to stop the match.
...Then, I immediately roll the Hell out of there, as I'm not keen on getting decapitated by a kangaroo foot.
"Ade... Ade! We're calling this off now, man! Ade... Ade? Ade!!!"
Ade keeps turning to look at me each time his name is said, but between that, he's glaring at the martially-sound animal. After moments of looking like he desperately wants to tear the relocated creature asunder, he concedes, rolling out of the ring, slapping the mat several times before he power walks past me so mightily that the wind he produces ruffles up my t-shirt a bit. I shake my head.
Meanwhile, Ade made a beeline to the punching bags, waling at them with all his might. His accent's so thick as he makes short work of the bag that I now have to pay for as he plowed it off the chain, its contents exposed due to an Ade-induced tear.
Thanks, Ade.
I give him some time to settle down; this was, strange as it may seem, another side of The Chav-Buster. He was mostly reserved when outside the ring and not partaking in some maybe-criminal activity that I'm neither denying nor admitting. After his little sulk, I approach him.
"Ade... dude... that was hardly worth the reaction there!"
"I am most fully aware ov dat, Bones. Dat fing in th' ring dere's not no person, but th' way I figured it, iv I can takes on one ov dem fings, I can takes on anyfing! An' wot does dat runt do? 'e uses dem feet ov 'is an' makes short work ov me!"
I shrug and maintain; what can I say that won't make Ade feel silly for whinging about getting served by a superhuman kangaroo? I relax my shoulders and drop my arms.
"Well, if you start coming up against opponents covered in fur and boasting tails and muzzles, we'll revisit this, uh, unorthodox training. Until then, need I remind you that you not only defeated your opponents... did you hear that? Opponentssss?! Meaning plural? Meaning it was a handicap match... not in your favour? And you handily trounced them in record time? And by virtue of breaking that epic record, you indirectly caused Bulldozer's-"
Now I should point out here that I refer to Bulldozer Brixton by first name alone because I don't want to confuse Ade. I think he thinks the former Legacy star's name was "Bulldoze Brixton", which he would have taken maximum offense to.
"-termination of employment? And even though that meant no match between you two, you still got to show him who's boss with that ever-lovin' dung-kicking you gave him. Everything's coming up The Ace of Ades, and you're focusing on a freakin' kangaroo? Your opponent next time we're booked isn't gonna be a kangaroo! Who cares about some kangaroo?!"
Ade looks at me very seriously. It's almost like he's examining a raw piece of meat, but it's more likely he's trying to register what's been said to him and formulate the appropriate response.
So I wake up the next morning all groggy and halfway off my hotel bed. I feel like I've been hit by a ton of bricks. Bricks-ton. Brixton. The man from Brixton. Ade... Ade?... Ade!!!
Again?!
I intentionally allow myself to slump to the floor. I shake the cobwebs off, and get a good look at my surroundings. I slowly get to my feet. I am not impressed. I obviously didn't get a good enough look at my surroundings, because the man in question was sitting directly behind me on the other side of the bed! Man he hit me hard, son!!
"My condolences fo' dis nasty bit ov unfortunance, but iv it's any connnn-sullashun to yas, I do feel much betters now."
I narrow my eyes at the massive Brit. One of these days, Ade, ONE OF THESE DAYS! In all seriousness, one of these days, I'm going to have to teach him just a modicum of self control.
"Oh, well, that's just wonderful then, isn't it?"
Ade makes patronizing sounds at me as he gets up and embraces me with one arm. I ache. But I don't dare break free.
"Aww, don't be like dat, Bones, nuffin' like dat's personal!"
He lets go of me, and I suddenly have the uncontrollable urge to collapse onto the bed. The floor would have done, had I been unlucky.
He paces about the room, and I situate myself on the bed in a more dignified position.
"But I did get to finkin'-"
Oh, this should be rich.
"De next time I get into dat ring dere in Legacy, 'ho would I be facin' anyways? No one knows, right? Well, I got me an idea or two. 'ow 'bout instead of waitin' for an opponent dat's t' be picked for me, 'ow 'bout you go an' talk to management, like? Let 'em knows dat I wanna makes my next match an open challenge wot anyones can accept!"
My eyes widen; did my man Ade just come up with a brilliant idea behind my back? Instead of us choosing his next opponent, or the booker choosing his next opponent, we let whoever choose to be his next opponent!
Man, I swear, this guy's got some amazing things hidden up his ample sleeves!
"Y'know Ade, that's a not-too-bad idea there, actually! We asked for a two-on-one match, we got it, we dominated, and we sent Bulldozer packing, all in one go! I even heard Terry John's gone too! And while that's a shame, hey, this is quite the little setup we've got going, huh? We demanded a match, that went perfectly for us, so now someone else can demand to face us! That's gold! I'll get that Petey Bauer on the ol' Johnophone and make it happen, cap'n!"
Ade gives me that same look from earlier, and I immediately consider investing in a stun gun.
But then, his hardened look softens, and some semblance of a smile creeps onto his face. He nods in approval.
"Awright den! Dat's wot I likes ta hear! 'ere, meanwhiles, you fink you could get me into contact wiv one o' dem wrestlin' bears I hear so much abouts?"
...Baby steps, Johnny... baby steps...
