Post by Emi's Imaginary Friend on Aug 17, 2012 14:35:57 GMT -5
Chilling in his apartment, John Fisherman was scrolling his laptop, checking out the latest news on the MPW roster. Only one thing was worth mentioning.
"Huh. So that little runt finally got a job? I'll give him a week. Should make as big an impact as the spectacular Jordan..."
Meanwhile, it had been a week since her older sister had left her apartment, but Ms. Jasmine Biguns was still in a foul mood. After a chaotic week with her brutally annoying sister, the bitter taste of aggravation continued to linger. However this week, she was more upset about what happened at the Monday Night Main Event, and more significantly, some particular banter from earlier in the week.
John was suddenly interrupted by the vibration of his cellphone once again. He let out a brief sigh as he answered.
"Hi John."
"You alright Jasmine? What's up?"
"Have you checked what's on Twitter?"
"Come on Jasmine, you know I don't use that garbage!"
"Well that pompous ass Justin has posted some horrid shit to me. Where the hell does he get off calling me boobzilla!"
John couldn't help but let out a slight giggle, much to Jasmine's disgust.
"John!?"
"Sorry Jasmine. But what do you want me to do about it? You're the one with a Twitter account!"
"I know, it's just, that guy just makes me so angry! And you know what? He's not the only one. This entire company is full of sexist pigs! Aidan, Rage, they're all the same! We have to do something!"
"Okay calm down. Look, can't we talk about this later? Like after High Stakes or something?"
"Yeah, alright. But if that damn mutt lays another hand on me again, he's got another thing coming!"
"Okay, I'll see at the gym later. Oh, and did you find those sparring partners I asked for?"
"Yeah, they'll meet you down there as well."
"Awesome. See you later!"
And with that, they both hung up. It was about time John Fisherman got ready for his regular training regime, he had been mooching on his beloved couch all morning. By the time he got to his regular gym, it was in the early afternoon. Ms. Biguns had already arrived, as well as an MPW camera crew, who followed the orders of John's manager.
"Have the guys arrived yet?"
"Yep. Everything's set. We're ready."
"Cheers Jasmine, you're the greatest."
He gave her a slight kiss on the cheek, something that Jasmine was not used to from her clients (or at least her current client). Touching her cheek, Jasmine watched as her man jumped into the training ring, surrounded by ladders, where a bunch of cameramen had positioned themselves, as if they were filming a live show. Hanging above the ring was what a mock contract. It was time for yet another John Fisherman promo.
Standing in the middle of the ring, John introduced himself to the rolling cameras.
"Hi. I'm John Fisherman, but of course, you all already know that by now. But for a change, I thought that I'd introduce the MPW universe to where I train. This place has all the facilities and equipment that I need to whip into shape and prepare for my next match. And speaking of matches, I bet you're all excited about watching either Aidan Caine or Kurt Newman or even Enigma coming out on top in the Roll of the Dice match at High Stakes, right? But don't worry, I don't aim to disappoint, I am going to satisfy you all. Guaranteed by the end of the night, you'll all be cheering me on as I walk out with that contract in my hand. And who can blame you? You'll have a chance to witness the king of the world finally claim his throne here in MPW! Now of course, you're probably expecting a repeat of last Monday, right? A showcase indeed!"
John rested on the ropes.
"That's why I invited you all here today. You see, I'm about to give you a real showcase, a chance to witness what to expect at High Stakes, a sneak preview if you will. So if you don't like spoilers, you'd better look away now."
Suddenly the ring was surrounded by four individuals. As John prepared himself in the corner, the four people entered the ring, as if they were all preparing for a match. One of the cameramen hopped into the ring to catch a glimpse of the first competitor, however he was not exactly an intimidating individual. John made the announcements out of shot.
"Introducing first, from the army, weighing in tonight as who the hell cares, he is the mutt that needs to be put down, Bloodhound!"
Of course, the person on camera was not Bloodhound. The person was a weakling, no heavier than a hundred and ten pounds, wearing a baggy military private uniform that looked much too big for him. Then the camera spun to the next individual.
"From the local park, acting tonight at about nine years and three months old, it is already way past his bed time. This is the boy that thinks he's awesome, Kurt Newman!"
A nine year old boy, dressed like the wrestler in question, was in the spot where Kurt should be, but alas, this was just another way of John making fun of his upcoming adversaries. The next shot was that of a little person, who wore a shirt that simply read "Rage".
"And now, from Canada, thinking that he's about two hundred and seventy five pounds, but is in fact another loser, please welcome the man who calls himself Rage!"
Up next was what appeared to be a woman in a Chewbacca costume, the only way of telling were the curves across the chest area.
"Up next, from god knows where, weighing god knows how much, and recently bathed in god knows what, one half of the Nightdyne Rebel Alliance, some wookiee called Enigma!"
The person in the costume let out a failed attempt of a wookiee cry, but what came next was a blatant insult to the North American champion.
"And from Charlotte, North Carolina, a man who is surprisingly our North American champion, but then again, he's not the first American to beat a German at something...but please welcome the most boring plank of wood on the planet, Aidan Caine!"
The fifth individual was not even a person. It was just a plank of wood with a smiley face scribbled on it, lifelessly sitting on the ring apron. John was personally proud of this one.
"And finally, from Denver, Colorado, weighing two hundred and twenty seven pounds, he is the epitome of talent, the king of the world, the greatest face to grace a wrestling race, and the soon-to-be MPW World champion, the one, the only, the original JOHN FISHERMAN!!"
Proud of himself, he arrogantly held up his arms, soaking in the cheers in his mind, but in reality, all that could be heard was the echoing clap of Jasmine's hands in the background.
DING DING DING!"
An overview shot of the ring saw John Fisherman immediately surround himself with the competition, but he approached the situation with ease. The little person made the first move, only to be harshly face-palmed onto the canvas. As 'Rage' rolled out of the ring, the woman in the Chewbacca costume made the next move. She tried a bear hug, only to be elbowed in the gut and thrown over the top rope and onto the floor below. As Ms. Biguns cheered on with delight in the background, John caught the young boy, who tried to fire a slingshot at him, and shoved him to the ground with his boot. John tripped up the army wimp before picking up the plank of wood and snapping it over his knee, throwing the pieces to a distance. All that was left was the army wimp. As he climbed back to his feet, John kicked him in the gut, hooked his arm over his neck and hit him with a vicious Fisherman Suplex. As John kicked the lifeless body of the wimp to the floor, Ms. Biguns was struggling with a ladder outside. It took some effort, but she managed to slide the ladder under the ropes. John continued to gloat as he positioned the ladder in the middle of the ring and ascended to the top, where he easily grabbed the mock contract hanging above.
"And your winner, John Fisherman!!"
John climbed down with the mock contract in hand. John celebrated in the middle of the ring as Ms. Biguns entered and gave him a joyful hug. You could have sworn that they had just won the title already!
"Yeah! That's how you do it! I'm the fucking man!"
"You da man!"
As Ms. Biguns clapped away, John Fisherman climbed the turnbuckle in celebration, holding his arms out proudly.
The camera then faded to a shot of John Fisherman, with a bottle of water in hand, sitting on the ring apron, accompanied as usual by Ms. Biguns. Clearly the action was over, all the joke characters had left, and it was time to get serious.
"How about that then? Pretty accurate, huh?"
"That's right. That was just a preview of what to expect at High Stakes. You see, I was the first man to qualify for the Roll of the Dice match, and therefore, I've been waiting the longest, I've had the most time to prepare, and I've been wanting this opportunity more than anyone else. So if anyone deserves to come out on top, it's me. If anyone is going to walk out with that contract, it's me, and if anyone is going to cash it in and win the World title, it's going to be me!"
"Damn straight!"
"But now onto my opponents. Jokes aside, I understand what I'm heading into at High Stakes. If any of you think that I won't be taking you seriously after all this, then you're wrong. Since coming here, week after week I've been screwed out of what should have been easy wins, and many of you think that it was only by chance that I even managed to qualify for this match. You all think that I'm going to be some pushover, that the main story will revolve around Rage and Caine, or that Kurt Newman will take all the glory and come out on top. I've held my share of championships in the past, but I would be lying if I told that this wasn't going to be the biggest match of my career. But trust me when I say that I'm not going to be screwed out of another victory, and this will be the night where I finally claim my spot in the top flight of this company. Then you will not treat me as a pushover, you will all treat me with the respect that I truly deserve."
"Exactly! And that's why I chose you as my client John. I saw the potential in you since I first met you. Believe me, I looked around the roster, but none of them, I guarantee, will not have the glorious future that my man is bound to have here in MPW. This will be the night where my man soars like an eagle as the main man of this company!"
"Thanks Jasmine. I promise that you will not be disappointed. And speaking of disappointment..."
John faced the camera once again.
"...Enigma, you must have been just as disappointed as me about what happened last week. But let me ask you something about this little cult of yours. Now I think we can both agree that this is not some guild on World of Warcraft, or another Star Wars fan group. It's this group dedicated to making people truly feel free and blah blah blah. And yet there are only two of you, and the other member happens to be your brother. I just have to wonder, are you really hoping to make an impact here or what? Because quite frankly, I don't think anyone here cares about you and your hooligan brother, and incidentally, no one gives a crap about what you douchebags think. However, I do not appreciate these assumptions that you have about my relationship with my darling manager. It's clear to me that someone needs to pull that mask, sling it back into your egg of a head and put you back in your place, a zoo to be exact, like the shaved gorilla that you are!"
Ms. Biguns laughed to herself after that last comment.
"And while we're on the topic of animals, don't think that I've forgotten about you Bloodhound. You're the guy that completely fucked up my match last Monday, and you're the guy who chased Jasmine from ringside. If you have any obedience and that tiny brain of yours, then you'd better listen to me and listen carefully. If you even think of scaring Ms. Biguns like that again, you have another thing coming!"
"Yeah, so next time, you better back off otherwise we'll have you neutered!!"
"Damn Jasmine..."
"What? I mean it! I will rip his balls out if he touches me again!"
"..."
A brief, awkward silence.
"Moving on...now onto Kurt Newman. Kurt boy, how about changing the tune every once in a while? It's come to the point where you childish remarks don't seem to fluster anyone anymore. Your charisma is starting to fail you. That ridiculous title belt you carry around has become nothing more than a reminder of what an utter joke you really are. Kurt, you got lucky last week. That filthy mutt wasn't supposed to make that count. That's why I'm more determined than ever to humiliate you in the middle of that ring at High Stakes. No more mister nice guy Kurt, the third time will be the charm, or for me at least. As for you, not so well. I'm prepared for you this time Kurt, and like everyone else, you'll be just another witness to my ultimate rise to glory. Oh, and I believe Jasmine has a few things to say to you..."
"That's right. Kurt Newman, I've paid close attention to everything you've said, and quite frankly, you're full of crap. You've never 'scared me off', I just refuse to lower myself by speaking to an insignificant troll like yourself and give you any footage that you may use in your 'personal' life. And you want to know why I hang around with John? I think I've already explained that he has the potential to become the biggest name in professional wrestling, and if anyone deserves my company and services, it is him. Now let me tell you a little secret. When I first got here, while I was still searching for my first client here in MPW, I admit that I had a look at you, and quite frankly, I saw nothing. Nothing unique, nothing special, nothing remotely worth my time. I hope you've managed to control your hormones long enough to listen to what I said, and I sincerely hope that you have learned something here."
"Probably not. He's like a kid on puberty. He probably paused some of that footage just so he could..."
"No thanks, I don't wanna think about it!"
"Okay then. Well then, that leaves two more. Rage. To be honest, that midget that pretended to be you earlier was far more convincing than you. You know, I when I first got here, I was a little intimidated by you. I admit it. But after watching you these past couple of weeks, it seems perfectly clear to me that even you're not worthy to be competing in this match at High Stakes. You must rely on the skills of your fellow TWI member, Johnny Clash, to make a name for yourself. I hate to use another Star Wars reference, but while Johnny Clash is Jabba the Hutt, you're that scrawny little shrimp that basks in his glory. That is why you decided to let that loser Jason join, correct? That is why you chose Jason over me. You figured that having somebody even more pathetic in the group might make you seem a little more significant, am I right? Well I'm not buying it. That is why I am now refusing any future offers to join the True Wrestling Icons, if the only reason you hire new members is to make yourself feel a little better about yourself. You're not fooling anyone. What's more pathetic is that you decided to vent your frustrations at that pitiful excuse of a North American champion Aidan Caine. Well you can have your little school yard fight all you want, that'll just make my rise to glory a little quicker."
John took a sip from the bottle of water as Ms. Biguns continued to smirk by his side.
"And speaking of Caine. Of course, you're the main man around here aren't you? So hip, so outgoing, such a fun guy to be around, right? Well no, to me, you're pretty much a common jock. You think you're better than everyone else, right? Everything that you say matters, all the ladies want to be with you and all the guys want to be you, right? But more importantly, you know how to kick ass, correct? So you managed to beat that Sauerkraut last Monday, big deal! Whenever I look at you, all I see is another joke, a boring one at that. I mean, you're about as interesting as a plank of wood! It doesn't just take a loud voice to get people to notice you, you've got to offer something to make people keep taking notice of you. Sure, you've got the North American title, even though you've only defended it against one guy so far, but then again, that's still more than some people..."
"Listen Candy Caine, you're one of those other guys that I looked into as a possible new client when I first came here, and here's the truth. You're loud, you're obnoxious, you're ridiculously opinionated and ignorant, you seem to only care for yourself, and you're desperate for attention. Worst of all, you're an ass kisser. That's why you're even involved in this match, that's why you were allowed to participate in this match without forfeiting that title. And the only reason why you're still the champion is because you've only defended it twice, against the same guy on both occasions. You haven't been put up against a formidable challenger yet, but believe me when I say that at High Stakes, you'll be in way over head."
"Couldn't have put it better myself. You see Aidan, I bet that if we were to ever meet in singles competition for that belt, you would not be as lucky as you've been so far. I bet that I'd not only beat you and win the title, but I'd also knock some sense into that lowly noggin of yours and bring you back to the realization that you are nothing but a dull, uninteresting, untalented joke."
John took another sip from his bottle.
"So you see folks, I am dead serious. Never before have I been so serious. At High Stakes, you'll be witnessing history as I climb that ladder and take that contract for myself, taking my first step to ultimate glory. At High Stakes, the king of the world will be one step closer to finally claiming his throne. At High Stakes, the epitome of talent will showcase his abilities by smacking five other guys into the dust and claiming his spot as the top contender in this company. I promise you, before my days are done, I will win this match, and then, whether it be Blaze or Baxter, I will beat the crap out of either one and become the MPW World Heavyweight Champion."
The camera zoomed closer to John's face as he gave a rather cocky grin.
"Spoiler alert...I'm going to win!"
With a wink to the camera, the scene faded out, thus ending yet another John Fisherman promo. He seemed awfully confident in himself, but will he be able to back up his words? Tune in this Monday as MPW hosts its first pay-per-view event. Tune in to find out if your favorite wrestler comes out on top!
"Huh. So that little runt finally got a job? I'll give him a week. Should make as big an impact as the spectacular Jordan..."
Meanwhile, it had been a week since her older sister had left her apartment, but Ms. Jasmine Biguns was still in a foul mood. After a chaotic week with her brutally annoying sister, the bitter taste of aggravation continued to linger. However this week, she was more upset about what happened at the Monday Night Main Event, and more significantly, some particular banter from earlier in the week.
John was suddenly interrupted by the vibration of his cellphone once again. He let out a brief sigh as he answered.
"Hi John."
"You alright Jasmine? What's up?"
"Have you checked what's on Twitter?"
"Come on Jasmine, you know I don't use that garbage!"
"Well that pompous ass Justin has posted some horrid shit to me. Where the hell does he get off calling me boobzilla!"
John couldn't help but let out a slight giggle, much to Jasmine's disgust.
"John!?"
"Sorry Jasmine. But what do you want me to do about it? You're the one with a Twitter account!"
"I know, it's just, that guy just makes me so angry! And you know what? He's not the only one. This entire company is full of sexist pigs! Aidan, Rage, they're all the same! We have to do something!"
"Okay calm down. Look, can't we talk about this later? Like after High Stakes or something?"
"Yeah, alright. But if that damn mutt lays another hand on me again, he's got another thing coming!"
"Okay, I'll see at the gym later. Oh, and did you find those sparring partners I asked for?"
"Yeah, they'll meet you down there as well."
"Awesome. See you later!"
And with that, they both hung up. It was about time John Fisherman got ready for his regular training regime, he had been mooching on his beloved couch all morning. By the time he got to his regular gym, it was in the early afternoon. Ms. Biguns had already arrived, as well as an MPW camera crew, who followed the orders of John's manager.
"Have the guys arrived yet?"
"Yep. Everything's set. We're ready."
"Cheers Jasmine, you're the greatest."
He gave her a slight kiss on the cheek, something that Jasmine was not used to from her clients (or at least her current client). Touching her cheek, Jasmine watched as her man jumped into the training ring, surrounded by ladders, where a bunch of cameramen had positioned themselves, as if they were filming a live show. Hanging above the ring was what a mock contract. It was time for yet another John Fisherman promo.
Standing in the middle of the ring, John introduced himself to the rolling cameras.
"Hi. I'm John Fisherman, but of course, you all already know that by now. But for a change, I thought that I'd introduce the MPW universe to where I train. This place has all the facilities and equipment that I need to whip into shape and prepare for my next match. And speaking of matches, I bet you're all excited about watching either Aidan Caine or Kurt Newman or even Enigma coming out on top in the Roll of the Dice match at High Stakes, right? But don't worry, I don't aim to disappoint, I am going to satisfy you all. Guaranteed by the end of the night, you'll all be cheering me on as I walk out with that contract in my hand. And who can blame you? You'll have a chance to witness the king of the world finally claim his throne here in MPW! Now of course, you're probably expecting a repeat of last Monday, right? A showcase indeed!"
John rested on the ropes.
"That's why I invited you all here today. You see, I'm about to give you a real showcase, a chance to witness what to expect at High Stakes, a sneak preview if you will. So if you don't like spoilers, you'd better look away now."
Suddenly the ring was surrounded by four individuals. As John prepared himself in the corner, the four people entered the ring, as if they were all preparing for a match. One of the cameramen hopped into the ring to catch a glimpse of the first competitor, however he was not exactly an intimidating individual. John made the announcements out of shot.
"Introducing first, from the army, weighing in tonight as who the hell cares, he is the mutt that needs to be put down, Bloodhound!"
Of course, the person on camera was not Bloodhound. The person was a weakling, no heavier than a hundred and ten pounds, wearing a baggy military private uniform that looked much too big for him. Then the camera spun to the next individual.
"From the local park, acting tonight at about nine years and three months old, it is already way past his bed time. This is the boy that thinks he's awesome, Kurt Newman!"
A nine year old boy, dressed like the wrestler in question, was in the spot where Kurt should be, but alas, this was just another way of John making fun of his upcoming adversaries. The next shot was that of a little person, who wore a shirt that simply read "Rage".
"And now, from Canada, thinking that he's about two hundred and seventy five pounds, but is in fact another loser, please welcome the man who calls himself Rage!"
Up next was what appeared to be a woman in a Chewbacca costume, the only way of telling were the curves across the chest area.
"Up next, from god knows where, weighing god knows how much, and recently bathed in god knows what, one half of the Nightdyne Rebel Alliance, some wookiee called Enigma!"
The person in the costume let out a failed attempt of a wookiee cry, but what came next was a blatant insult to the North American champion.
"And from Charlotte, North Carolina, a man who is surprisingly our North American champion, but then again, he's not the first American to beat a German at something...but please welcome the most boring plank of wood on the planet, Aidan Caine!"
The fifth individual was not even a person. It was just a plank of wood with a smiley face scribbled on it, lifelessly sitting on the ring apron. John was personally proud of this one.
"And finally, from Denver, Colorado, weighing two hundred and twenty seven pounds, he is the epitome of talent, the king of the world, the greatest face to grace a wrestling race, and the soon-to-be MPW World champion, the one, the only, the original JOHN FISHERMAN!!"
Proud of himself, he arrogantly held up his arms, soaking in the cheers in his mind, but in reality, all that could be heard was the echoing clap of Jasmine's hands in the background.
DING DING DING!"
An overview shot of the ring saw John Fisherman immediately surround himself with the competition, but he approached the situation with ease. The little person made the first move, only to be harshly face-palmed onto the canvas. As 'Rage' rolled out of the ring, the woman in the Chewbacca costume made the next move. She tried a bear hug, only to be elbowed in the gut and thrown over the top rope and onto the floor below. As Ms. Biguns cheered on with delight in the background, John caught the young boy, who tried to fire a slingshot at him, and shoved him to the ground with his boot. John tripped up the army wimp before picking up the plank of wood and snapping it over his knee, throwing the pieces to a distance. All that was left was the army wimp. As he climbed back to his feet, John kicked him in the gut, hooked his arm over his neck and hit him with a vicious Fisherman Suplex. As John kicked the lifeless body of the wimp to the floor, Ms. Biguns was struggling with a ladder outside. It took some effort, but she managed to slide the ladder under the ropes. John continued to gloat as he positioned the ladder in the middle of the ring and ascended to the top, where he easily grabbed the mock contract hanging above.
"And your winner, John Fisherman!!"
John climbed down with the mock contract in hand. John celebrated in the middle of the ring as Ms. Biguns entered and gave him a joyful hug. You could have sworn that they had just won the title already!
"Yeah! That's how you do it! I'm the fucking man!"
"You da man!"
As Ms. Biguns clapped away, John Fisherman climbed the turnbuckle in celebration, holding his arms out proudly.
The camera then faded to a shot of John Fisherman, with a bottle of water in hand, sitting on the ring apron, accompanied as usual by Ms. Biguns. Clearly the action was over, all the joke characters had left, and it was time to get serious.
"How about that then? Pretty accurate, huh?"
"That's right. That was just a preview of what to expect at High Stakes. You see, I was the first man to qualify for the Roll of the Dice match, and therefore, I've been waiting the longest, I've had the most time to prepare, and I've been wanting this opportunity more than anyone else. So if anyone deserves to come out on top, it's me. If anyone is going to walk out with that contract, it's me, and if anyone is going to cash it in and win the World title, it's going to be me!"
"Damn straight!"
"But now onto my opponents. Jokes aside, I understand what I'm heading into at High Stakes. If any of you think that I won't be taking you seriously after all this, then you're wrong. Since coming here, week after week I've been screwed out of what should have been easy wins, and many of you think that it was only by chance that I even managed to qualify for this match. You all think that I'm going to be some pushover, that the main story will revolve around Rage and Caine, or that Kurt Newman will take all the glory and come out on top. I've held my share of championships in the past, but I would be lying if I told that this wasn't going to be the biggest match of my career. But trust me when I say that I'm not going to be screwed out of another victory, and this will be the night where I finally claim my spot in the top flight of this company. Then you will not treat me as a pushover, you will all treat me with the respect that I truly deserve."
"Exactly! And that's why I chose you as my client John. I saw the potential in you since I first met you. Believe me, I looked around the roster, but none of them, I guarantee, will not have the glorious future that my man is bound to have here in MPW. This will be the night where my man soars like an eagle as the main man of this company!"
"Thanks Jasmine. I promise that you will not be disappointed. And speaking of disappointment..."
John faced the camera once again.
"...Enigma, you must have been just as disappointed as me about what happened last week. But let me ask you something about this little cult of yours. Now I think we can both agree that this is not some guild on World of Warcraft, or another Star Wars fan group. It's this group dedicated to making people truly feel free and blah blah blah. And yet there are only two of you, and the other member happens to be your brother. I just have to wonder, are you really hoping to make an impact here or what? Because quite frankly, I don't think anyone here cares about you and your hooligan brother, and incidentally, no one gives a crap about what you douchebags think. However, I do not appreciate these assumptions that you have about my relationship with my darling manager. It's clear to me that someone needs to pull that mask, sling it back into your egg of a head and put you back in your place, a zoo to be exact, like the shaved gorilla that you are!"
Ms. Biguns laughed to herself after that last comment.
"And while we're on the topic of animals, don't think that I've forgotten about you Bloodhound. You're the guy that completely fucked up my match last Monday, and you're the guy who chased Jasmine from ringside. If you have any obedience and that tiny brain of yours, then you'd better listen to me and listen carefully. If you even think of scaring Ms. Biguns like that again, you have another thing coming!"
"Yeah, so next time, you better back off otherwise we'll have you neutered!!"
"Damn Jasmine..."
"What? I mean it! I will rip his balls out if he touches me again!"
"..."
A brief, awkward silence.
"Moving on...now onto Kurt Newman. Kurt boy, how about changing the tune every once in a while? It's come to the point where you childish remarks don't seem to fluster anyone anymore. Your charisma is starting to fail you. That ridiculous title belt you carry around has become nothing more than a reminder of what an utter joke you really are. Kurt, you got lucky last week. That filthy mutt wasn't supposed to make that count. That's why I'm more determined than ever to humiliate you in the middle of that ring at High Stakes. No more mister nice guy Kurt, the third time will be the charm, or for me at least. As for you, not so well. I'm prepared for you this time Kurt, and like everyone else, you'll be just another witness to my ultimate rise to glory. Oh, and I believe Jasmine has a few things to say to you..."
"That's right. Kurt Newman, I've paid close attention to everything you've said, and quite frankly, you're full of crap. You've never 'scared me off', I just refuse to lower myself by speaking to an insignificant troll like yourself and give you any footage that you may use in your 'personal' life. And you want to know why I hang around with John? I think I've already explained that he has the potential to become the biggest name in professional wrestling, and if anyone deserves my company and services, it is him. Now let me tell you a little secret. When I first got here, while I was still searching for my first client here in MPW, I admit that I had a look at you, and quite frankly, I saw nothing. Nothing unique, nothing special, nothing remotely worth my time. I hope you've managed to control your hormones long enough to listen to what I said, and I sincerely hope that you have learned something here."
"Probably not. He's like a kid on puberty. He probably paused some of that footage just so he could..."
"No thanks, I don't wanna think about it!"
"Okay then. Well then, that leaves two more. Rage. To be honest, that midget that pretended to be you earlier was far more convincing than you. You know, I when I first got here, I was a little intimidated by you. I admit it. But after watching you these past couple of weeks, it seems perfectly clear to me that even you're not worthy to be competing in this match at High Stakes. You must rely on the skills of your fellow TWI member, Johnny Clash, to make a name for yourself. I hate to use another Star Wars reference, but while Johnny Clash is Jabba the Hutt, you're that scrawny little shrimp that basks in his glory. That is why you decided to let that loser Jason join, correct? That is why you chose Jason over me. You figured that having somebody even more pathetic in the group might make you seem a little more significant, am I right? Well I'm not buying it. That is why I am now refusing any future offers to join the True Wrestling Icons, if the only reason you hire new members is to make yourself feel a little better about yourself. You're not fooling anyone. What's more pathetic is that you decided to vent your frustrations at that pitiful excuse of a North American champion Aidan Caine. Well you can have your little school yard fight all you want, that'll just make my rise to glory a little quicker."
John took a sip from the bottle of water as Ms. Biguns continued to smirk by his side.
"And speaking of Caine. Of course, you're the main man around here aren't you? So hip, so outgoing, such a fun guy to be around, right? Well no, to me, you're pretty much a common jock. You think you're better than everyone else, right? Everything that you say matters, all the ladies want to be with you and all the guys want to be you, right? But more importantly, you know how to kick ass, correct? So you managed to beat that Sauerkraut last Monday, big deal! Whenever I look at you, all I see is another joke, a boring one at that. I mean, you're about as interesting as a plank of wood! It doesn't just take a loud voice to get people to notice you, you've got to offer something to make people keep taking notice of you. Sure, you've got the North American title, even though you've only defended it against one guy so far, but then again, that's still more than some people..."
"Listen Candy Caine, you're one of those other guys that I looked into as a possible new client when I first came here, and here's the truth. You're loud, you're obnoxious, you're ridiculously opinionated and ignorant, you seem to only care for yourself, and you're desperate for attention. Worst of all, you're an ass kisser. That's why you're even involved in this match, that's why you were allowed to participate in this match without forfeiting that title. And the only reason why you're still the champion is because you've only defended it twice, against the same guy on both occasions. You haven't been put up against a formidable challenger yet, but believe me when I say that at High Stakes, you'll be in way over head."
"Couldn't have put it better myself. You see Aidan, I bet that if we were to ever meet in singles competition for that belt, you would not be as lucky as you've been so far. I bet that I'd not only beat you and win the title, but I'd also knock some sense into that lowly noggin of yours and bring you back to the realization that you are nothing but a dull, uninteresting, untalented joke."
John took another sip from his bottle.
"So you see folks, I am dead serious. Never before have I been so serious. At High Stakes, you'll be witnessing history as I climb that ladder and take that contract for myself, taking my first step to ultimate glory. At High Stakes, the king of the world will be one step closer to finally claiming his throne. At High Stakes, the epitome of talent will showcase his abilities by smacking five other guys into the dust and claiming his spot as the top contender in this company. I promise you, before my days are done, I will win this match, and then, whether it be Blaze or Baxter, I will beat the crap out of either one and become the MPW World Heavyweight Champion."
The camera zoomed closer to John's face as he gave a rather cocky grin.
"Spoiler alert...I'm going to win!"
With a wink to the camera, the scene faded out, thus ending yet another John Fisherman promo. He seemed awfully confident in himself, but will he be able to back up his words? Tune in this Monday as MPW hosts its first pay-per-view event. Tune in to find out if your favorite wrestler comes out on top!
