Post by Icon Lord Leon Corbin on Jun 27, 2015 18:35:37 GMT -6
Icon Corbin: Every fucking time!
Titan was over and in the books, most people had already left the Slaughterhouse but the World champion was still there, in his locker room, and aggressively hurling items into his open bag on the floor. Dressed in the way he’d arrived, he rolls up his trunks and launches them at his bag and getting half a victory as half spills and hangs over the handle. A boot would soon follow, missing entirely and scuffing the side of the calf as it slides over the stone floor.
Icon Corbin: Every time, no match can ever come to a proper conclusion! Some bastard has to either get involved, speed things up, sabotage fucking cages, try to get one over on me! When does that shit stop happening?!
The other boot flies even further, the champion throwing his arms into the air when a knock on the door brings him back to the here and now. Who was even still here? An opportunist? Had someone been sent to finish off the champion? Maybe a bitter contender or a sore loser? Taking no chances and fully aware that it was obvious he was in the room after his outburst, he immediately moves to his bag, pulling everything back out to get a hand on his baseball bat. Clothes strewn around his bag seemed the last of his problems as he headed for the door, bat at the ready. He didn’t even ask who was there. He just opens the door and takes a wild swing, almost removing the head of the person standing there had they not moved with lightning reflexes. Two hands up and the vision of black and white stripes is what greets him.
Icon Corbin: Trystan?!
Trystan: I thought you might be in this mood. I only came to see how you were and I can leave if you prefer.
It was hardly a response but Leon lowers his bat and walks back inside without closing the door and the referee took that as a positive, following him inside and locking the door behind him. Trystan scans the room, noting the mess and flushed face of the champion as he drops the bat on his bag and takes a seat against the wall with an aggressive sigh.
Trystan: This is probably a ridiculous question but are you okay?
Icon Corbin: Do I look okay? Actually, I am. Really, I am, but I’ve had enough of this bullshit. I’m a fucking world class athlete and well-rounded player of this sport. I am experienced in that ring, on that mic and absolutely everything else in between. I TEACH how to be the best and yet, show after show, my career is made a mockery of with stupid matches, stupid opponents, stupid angles, and stupid fucking decisions. Eighteen years, Trys! Eighteen years and this is the crap I am reduced to in what is supposed to be the best company of this industry.
Trystan: But you’re still champion. Surely that has got to count for something.
Icon Corbin: Oh yeah because that means something in this company these days, doesn’t it? Do you know why I came back? I came back to save this place from its inevitable demise. Tried to add class back to dying divisions and uplift the spirits of the lazy cunts that wander the backstage area. Oh yeah, they really are lazy cunts just feeding off the fat of the land while they rest on their laurels or their fucking sofas. I came back to try and remind people that this used to be a great place to be and that it could be once again but instead my wings get clipped and I get lumbered with dead wood that is so fucking delusional it hurts. I mean, really. Alex Cross?! You know me, Trys. I could end that bitch’s career with a snap of the fingers and any part of his body I wanted but instead I have to suffer this idiot because there is no one better. For fuck sake, Trys. What is this place coming to if Alex Cross is the best they have to give me?! And they’re doing me favours by throwing Sean Locke at me now? Did you see what that cock had to say out there? He still hasn’t got clue what goes on, what has happened and somehow that’s what is supposed to succeed me?!
A swipe of the hand and water bottle beside him goes flying off the bench and against the wall across the room before it rolls away a little.
Icon Corbin: This place is such a joke now that even the students would rather try their luck on the independents because at least they’d be allowed to have proper matches with interesting talent. They’d rather do that and take a major pay cut than partake in the terrible matches in GZW because they anticipate being miserable and not doing what they work hard to do. And what can I even say to convince them otherwise when they see what I do in class and then see the crap I’m a part of on television? GZW needs a complete overhaul, Trys. It needs major change where people like Cross and Locke are put where they should be and are not simply a by-product of “every dog should have its day”. That is NOT what makes a champion. They are NOT championship material and somewhere between their pathetic and quiet failure runs in the other divisions and the haphazard decision to elevate them beyond their true calling that is all just forgotten.
Trystan: I know how you feel…
Icon Corbin: Do you though?! I’ve given everything to this sport and to this company but this? I don’t want this!
Trystan: I know you don’t, Leon but who else is there?
Icon Corbin: That’s the problem, isn’t it? Who in their right mind would find GZW tantalising that they would want to lace up once again now? The golden era is gone. I mean the real golden era, not that bollocks back in the early two thousands either. Fuck me, that was cringeworthy and held in regard beyond its real value. I’m talking oh five, oh seven. That was exciting. There was so much talent GZW was spilling over with it. It was the place to be but not anymore and frankly, if GZG didn’t have the budget it has, it would have gone under a few years ago already. Yay for having too much money that you’re infallible though, ay? So much money and they don’t know where to invest properly in their own business anymore…pathetic…
Trystan: Then, what are you going to do about it? You’re the world champion, Leon. No one else, you. The company is on your shoulders so what are you going to do to make a difference?
Icon Corbin: Is that some kind of sick fucking joke? I go out there and cut vicious promo after vicious promo. Words that hack and slash at my victims and instead of the comebacks I used to receive that would inspire me and have me thinking hard about who stood in front of me I’ll get a brainless response that has me wondering why I bother and piss poor attempts at one-upmanship. And that’s if people respond at all. You know, I have a wife and I have four wonderful children. I could be spending valuable time with them instead and I resent the waste of my time it is to be around this slop. Bunch of fucking parasites, the lot of them. You can’t help any of them. You can’t get them off their arses and take their careers and their job seriously. I have to wonder why they have even chosen to do what they do and it seems that mostly people just want the fame, the money, the status. They don’t care about professional wrestling at all and how disrespectful it is to even employ them let alone push them to heights they can’t handle…Ugh…makes me so fucking sick!
He tugs on his beard while Trystan slowly walks over and takes a seat where the bottle once sat. He turns to face him, hand on the champ’s shoulder.
Trystan: Leon…
The Ring of Honor Icon turns his head and glances at Trystan out of the corner of his eye.
Trystan: I know you and I know how much this is upsetting you but please, you have to keep at it. You are the best this company has but it needs you to keep going out there and giving your all.
Icon Corbin: My all?! I am not allowed to be at my best because it would shine a light so fucking bright on just how shit the rest of them are compared to me so I have to lower my standards to meet theirs, Trystan! Can you believe that? I have been violated, disrespected, neglected, raped, mugged, ridiculed on my path to be the very best and all I get is this?! Maybe I should just forget what they want me to do and go back to being the old Vicious. Maybe I should end careers. Maybe I should hurt people so badly that they have to think twice before mouthing off to me. Maybe I should just hurt whoever the fuck I want and remind them that this isn’t a fucking playground, it’s a dangerous place to be if you want to stand in front of me or in my way.
Trystan: Leon, you know I won’t be able to let you do that on my watch. I can’t.
Icon Corbin: It would never be on your watch so don’t worry about it. Doesn’t even need to be in a match. Maybe I don’t even care if Alex can’t even make it to the Heatwave main event.
Trystan: Come on. You don’t need to stoop like that. You have the talent to beat anyone between those ropes. Don’t validate Cross by behaving the same way as he is.
Icon Corbin: Behaving like him? He’s the poor man’s Vicious, not me! And if he’s not careful he’s just gonna be a poor man full stop because I WILL break that neck of his so he can’t move again. And after seeing how it affected my wife and Kandi, I know just how much it will break his spirit as well.
Trystan: Okay stop…
He stands, and casts his huge shadow over his long-time friend and ex-lover.
Icon Corbin: No. I want rid of him. For good. Alex Cross is going to leave Heatwave on a stretcher and I will leave in a stretch limo with MY fucking title. It really is that simple. I am going to break his neck by the time that match is over.
Trystan: Leon…
The first ever Grand Slam champion stands up, nose to nose with the former CSW champion, their eyes locked.
Trystan: Look, I am not trying to start a fight but I really think you need to get out of this building and cool off, get your head right before that mind set really takes hold and you go and injure Cross just because it feels good.
Icon Corbin: No. He thinks he can go around and do what he likes? Wait and see what happens when I do what I want. I’m bringing that stupid little bitch down a peg or two. He WILL be humbled at Heatwave and then it’s goodbye Two Stripe. And if Sean has anything to say, I’ll tear him down where he stands as well. Enough is enough…I’m too good to put up with it, so I won’t…
As Trystan opens his mouth to speak, Leon disarms him with quick kiss on the cheek and leaves him with a wink and a smirk before he gathers his belongings and shoves them into his bag. Draping the world title through the handles of the bag, he picks it up and grabs the bat in the other hand before unlocking the door and leaving Trystan with no choice but to watch.
Trystan: Well, shit…
Titan was over and in the books, most people had already left the Slaughterhouse but the World champion was still there, in his locker room, and aggressively hurling items into his open bag on the floor. Dressed in the way he’d arrived, he rolls up his trunks and launches them at his bag and getting half a victory as half spills and hangs over the handle. A boot would soon follow, missing entirely and scuffing the side of the calf as it slides over the stone floor.
Icon Corbin: Every time, no match can ever come to a proper conclusion! Some bastard has to either get involved, speed things up, sabotage fucking cages, try to get one over on me! When does that shit stop happening?!
The other boot flies even further, the champion throwing his arms into the air when a knock on the door brings him back to the here and now. Who was even still here? An opportunist? Had someone been sent to finish off the champion? Maybe a bitter contender or a sore loser? Taking no chances and fully aware that it was obvious he was in the room after his outburst, he immediately moves to his bag, pulling everything back out to get a hand on his baseball bat. Clothes strewn around his bag seemed the last of his problems as he headed for the door, bat at the ready. He didn’t even ask who was there. He just opens the door and takes a wild swing, almost removing the head of the person standing there had they not moved with lightning reflexes. Two hands up and the vision of black and white stripes is what greets him.
Icon Corbin: Trystan?!
Trystan: I thought you might be in this mood. I only came to see how you were and I can leave if you prefer.
It was hardly a response but Leon lowers his bat and walks back inside without closing the door and the referee took that as a positive, following him inside and locking the door behind him. Trystan scans the room, noting the mess and flushed face of the champion as he drops the bat on his bag and takes a seat against the wall with an aggressive sigh.
Trystan: This is probably a ridiculous question but are you okay?
Icon Corbin: Do I look okay? Actually, I am. Really, I am, but I’ve had enough of this bullshit. I’m a fucking world class athlete and well-rounded player of this sport. I am experienced in that ring, on that mic and absolutely everything else in between. I TEACH how to be the best and yet, show after show, my career is made a mockery of with stupid matches, stupid opponents, stupid angles, and stupid fucking decisions. Eighteen years, Trys! Eighteen years and this is the crap I am reduced to in what is supposed to be the best company of this industry.
Trystan: But you’re still champion. Surely that has got to count for something.
Icon Corbin: Oh yeah because that means something in this company these days, doesn’t it? Do you know why I came back? I came back to save this place from its inevitable demise. Tried to add class back to dying divisions and uplift the spirits of the lazy cunts that wander the backstage area. Oh yeah, they really are lazy cunts just feeding off the fat of the land while they rest on their laurels or their fucking sofas. I came back to try and remind people that this used to be a great place to be and that it could be once again but instead my wings get clipped and I get lumbered with dead wood that is so fucking delusional it hurts. I mean, really. Alex Cross?! You know me, Trys. I could end that bitch’s career with a snap of the fingers and any part of his body I wanted but instead I have to suffer this idiot because there is no one better. For fuck sake, Trys. What is this place coming to if Alex Cross is the best they have to give me?! And they’re doing me favours by throwing Sean Locke at me now? Did you see what that cock had to say out there? He still hasn’t got clue what goes on, what has happened and somehow that’s what is supposed to succeed me?!
A swipe of the hand and water bottle beside him goes flying off the bench and against the wall across the room before it rolls away a little.
Icon Corbin: This place is such a joke now that even the students would rather try their luck on the independents because at least they’d be allowed to have proper matches with interesting talent. They’d rather do that and take a major pay cut than partake in the terrible matches in GZW because they anticipate being miserable and not doing what they work hard to do. And what can I even say to convince them otherwise when they see what I do in class and then see the crap I’m a part of on television? GZW needs a complete overhaul, Trys. It needs major change where people like Cross and Locke are put where they should be and are not simply a by-product of “every dog should have its day”. That is NOT what makes a champion. They are NOT championship material and somewhere between their pathetic and quiet failure runs in the other divisions and the haphazard decision to elevate them beyond their true calling that is all just forgotten.
Trystan: I know how you feel…
Icon Corbin: Do you though?! I’ve given everything to this sport and to this company but this? I don’t want this!
Trystan: I know you don’t, Leon but who else is there?
Icon Corbin: That’s the problem, isn’t it? Who in their right mind would find GZW tantalising that they would want to lace up once again now? The golden era is gone. I mean the real golden era, not that bollocks back in the early two thousands either. Fuck me, that was cringeworthy and held in regard beyond its real value. I’m talking oh five, oh seven. That was exciting. There was so much talent GZW was spilling over with it. It was the place to be but not anymore and frankly, if GZG didn’t have the budget it has, it would have gone under a few years ago already. Yay for having too much money that you’re infallible though, ay? So much money and they don’t know where to invest properly in their own business anymore…pathetic…
Trystan: Then, what are you going to do about it? You’re the world champion, Leon. No one else, you. The company is on your shoulders so what are you going to do to make a difference?
Icon Corbin: Is that some kind of sick fucking joke? I go out there and cut vicious promo after vicious promo. Words that hack and slash at my victims and instead of the comebacks I used to receive that would inspire me and have me thinking hard about who stood in front of me I’ll get a brainless response that has me wondering why I bother and piss poor attempts at one-upmanship. And that’s if people respond at all. You know, I have a wife and I have four wonderful children. I could be spending valuable time with them instead and I resent the waste of my time it is to be around this slop. Bunch of fucking parasites, the lot of them. You can’t help any of them. You can’t get them off their arses and take their careers and their job seriously. I have to wonder why they have even chosen to do what they do and it seems that mostly people just want the fame, the money, the status. They don’t care about professional wrestling at all and how disrespectful it is to even employ them let alone push them to heights they can’t handle…Ugh…makes me so fucking sick!
He tugs on his beard while Trystan slowly walks over and takes a seat where the bottle once sat. He turns to face him, hand on the champ’s shoulder.
Trystan: Leon…
The Ring of Honor Icon turns his head and glances at Trystan out of the corner of his eye.
Trystan: I know you and I know how much this is upsetting you but please, you have to keep at it. You are the best this company has but it needs you to keep going out there and giving your all.
Icon Corbin: My all?! I am not allowed to be at my best because it would shine a light so fucking bright on just how shit the rest of them are compared to me so I have to lower my standards to meet theirs, Trystan! Can you believe that? I have been violated, disrespected, neglected, raped, mugged, ridiculed on my path to be the very best and all I get is this?! Maybe I should just forget what they want me to do and go back to being the old Vicious. Maybe I should end careers. Maybe I should hurt people so badly that they have to think twice before mouthing off to me. Maybe I should just hurt whoever the fuck I want and remind them that this isn’t a fucking playground, it’s a dangerous place to be if you want to stand in front of me or in my way.
Trystan: Leon, you know I won’t be able to let you do that on my watch. I can’t.
Icon Corbin: It would never be on your watch so don’t worry about it. Doesn’t even need to be in a match. Maybe I don’t even care if Alex can’t even make it to the Heatwave main event.
Trystan: Come on. You don’t need to stoop like that. You have the talent to beat anyone between those ropes. Don’t validate Cross by behaving the same way as he is.
Icon Corbin: Behaving like him? He’s the poor man’s Vicious, not me! And if he’s not careful he’s just gonna be a poor man full stop because I WILL break that neck of his so he can’t move again. And after seeing how it affected my wife and Kandi, I know just how much it will break his spirit as well.
Trystan: Okay stop…
He stands, and casts his huge shadow over his long-time friend and ex-lover.
Icon Corbin: No. I want rid of him. For good. Alex Cross is going to leave Heatwave on a stretcher and I will leave in a stretch limo with MY fucking title. It really is that simple. I am going to break his neck by the time that match is over.
Trystan: Leon…
The first ever Grand Slam champion stands up, nose to nose with the former CSW champion, their eyes locked.
Trystan: Look, I am not trying to start a fight but I really think you need to get out of this building and cool off, get your head right before that mind set really takes hold and you go and injure Cross just because it feels good.
Icon Corbin: No. He thinks he can go around and do what he likes? Wait and see what happens when I do what I want. I’m bringing that stupid little bitch down a peg or two. He WILL be humbled at Heatwave and then it’s goodbye Two Stripe. And if Sean has anything to say, I’ll tear him down where he stands as well. Enough is enough…I’m too good to put up with it, so I won’t…
As Trystan opens his mouth to speak, Leon disarms him with quick kiss on the cheek and leaves him with a wink and a smirk before he gathers his belongings and shoves them into his bag. Draping the world title through the handles of the bag, he picks it up and grabs the bat in the other hand before unlocking the door and leaving Trystan with no choice but to watch.
Trystan: Well, shit…
