Post by Icon Lord Leon Corbin on Jul 12, 2015 14:29:47 GMT -6
Icon Corbin: Last lap, ay Alex?
Kowloon Park at dusk and the area he was occupying was a sight to behold. The green surrounding him with flourishing trees, a river to his right and bench to his left to enjoy the view. The title draped comfortably on his shoulder, the World champion stood serene in his usual kind of attire of tight leather trousers, New Rocks and a Munin “Paint it Red” T-shirt that had the sleeves cut off. His pink hair was gelled back slightly while his beard remained the same as before, finely groomed and outlining the subtle smile he had in place.
Icon Corbin: Not long before what for you is actually judgment day. One night in Kowloon Park will determine whether all the pointless sacrifices and self obsession of yours ways off or whether you leave Hong Kong with nothing but a broken body and a tattered ego because after all this, that is all you will have, Alex. Nothing but your thoughts to destroy you, and let me tell you something right now. If you think you’re suffering already and that you feel all a little bit crazy just you wait for the real consumption to take place. For months you’ve hounded me, singling me out, thinking you were justified in your actions of trying to break me down but all you’ve really done is revealed that you’re just a desperate little man with no fact or balls to back him up. I mean, why the desperation if you’re as confident in your ability as you’d have others believe? Why the urgency if you’re apparently the future of this business?
It was all matter of fact to the Ring of Honor Icon who had achieved more by the time he was Alex’s age even if there was only five years between them anyway. Not that age mattered to him when he considered himself still perfectly in his prime. Something that kept eluding the not-so-young-anymore Alex Cross. He paused as if he waited for a response or maybe it was to give the chance to think about his words before he once again broke his silence.
Icon Corbin: I’ll tell you, Alex. It’s because you in no way represent anything truly great. Never have, never will. So much so that deep down, even you are all too aware of it. You can walk out there with all that false bravado and puff your little pigeon chest out at the world, hitting women and mindlessly screw people over but it doesn’t guarantee you a fucking thing at Heatwave. In fact, you’ve never looked so vulnerable. You’re actually quite afraid, and it’s as clear as a summer fucking day that you will cling to your lies and delusions to get you through your miserable, lonely little life. You can’t even take responsibility for yourself so how can you be trusted with entire company on your shoulders? The Cross era now? Fuck that! I mean, I have had to cover for you when the fans get pissed, Alex. Imagine that. I am trying to get you out of the shit because you don’t want to do what you get paid to do. The future, yeah? Able to carry the weight, yeah? What kind of poster boy would you really make when you epitomise everything that is wrong with it?!
Even through his smile, his eyes gave away his derision for his challenger. He shook his head, shifting his weight onto his left leg and moved the title back up an inch.
Icon Corbin: Poster boy… I would never have hung you up on my wall as a kid. Never would have idolised you or found you inspiring. You’re no fucking Corbin, whether it’s me or my father. See, that man knew how to bring real heat and still make you cheer him. Still make you turn up to see him wrestle and spend your cash at the stalls even if you hated him. You just wanted to advertise how much you loved or loathed the man and I am no different. In fact, I am even better, but you? There are more fucking Clan Mayhem shirts being sold than yours and I have it on good authority their sales are pretty bloody dismal when compared to the main roster.
So are we really anything alike? Are you really the second coming of Vicious? Fuck no! You don’t have my skill set, my microphone skill, my tenacity, my drawing power or my good looks. In every way you are inferior to me, Two Stripe. And it’s not going to change so the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you to move on and get over it just like Munin is doing right now with you. The easier it will be for you to take the ever so inevitable loss at the hands of GZW’s greatest of all time.
The way he pouted would probably rile in no time, his signature sideward smile coming into play as he cocks his head a little, looking down his nose.
Icon Corbin: Did that sound a bit too confident for you? Well, tough shit poppet because it’s not arrogance when you can actually back it up and it’s high time you were made to face these cold hard facts. Forget the World title and your hilarious attempts at notoriety. I’ve got this shit covered and I don’t need your help when all you’re doing is bringing me down with you and giving me a bad name by association. You’re not the future when you act as a repellent for those who would seek a career in this industry, you’re just ludicrous. Everything about you is just fucking stupid that it’s an insult you would be given a match with me at all let alone me having to defend against you. Ludicrous… Right down to the way you would try to manipulate a teenage boy, emotional blackmail to get back the woman you dared lay your hands on like it earns you any respect.
He clucks, licking his teeth after, clearly pleased about something.
Icon Corbin: Oh, you thought I wouldn’t find out? Can you imagine what went through Munin’s mind when she was the one who heard that voicemail? Who do you think she went to, Alex? You might as well give up on her because that bridge is so burnt it might as well have never existed. You talk about how what happens between you two is no one else’s business but it’s looking more and more like you have less to do with her than everyone else now. You’re just a fading sour note. You mean NOTHING, Alex. To Munin, to GZW, and definitely not to me. You are slowly but so surely becoming irrelevant and, as you think you have seen? Well…you are definitely replaceable, soon to be forgotten. Considering the pounds of flesh you owe, you probably will need to be replaced on this roster after I leave you as nothing but a lifeless little carcass where the vultures of GZW will likely fancy taking my scraps. Disagree?
Do you realise how many people are backing me to beat your worthless little arse come Heatwave and teach you a lesson you won’t so soon forget? How many people would get such utter satisfaction to see you brought to heel? Now what kind of person would I be if I didn’t aim to please? That’s just who I am, Alex. I’m a crowd pleaser while you do nothing but disappoint at every level, personal and professional. Meanwhile, I’m the meat and fucking potatoes of this company while you are just the vegetable… How fitting is that going to be, ay?
He chuckles beneath his breath, moving his head slightly to gaze upon the belt on his shoulder before resting his gaze back on the lens.
Icon Corbin: I wonder what you’re doing right now. I don’t mean right this second because I know your blood is set to boil but in general. Repenting perhaps? So much hangs in the balance and all you can do is wait. Wait for your chance once again only for you to squander it yet again while you longingly stare at a replicated piece of worthless shit trinket. See, for all the fuss about taking my title belt, it’s a bit annoying for me to listen to people fail to comprehend, but for you it’s painful. Painful because we know the truth behind the pissy farce of yours. I can ignore idiots like Samson who you probably suck off for him to push you as something you can never hope to be, endorsing his fellow fucking idiots but what do you really think when you stare at that counterfeit belt you have, the only thing that can console your fragile little feelings?
Actually, I couldn’t give a flying fuck. Why should I care when you cannot even be bothered to get to know who and what I really am because you’re so far up your own arse, so self-absorbed that nothing and no one else matters? You’re actually there trying to contradict Sean Locke when you’re as ill-informed as he is. Don’t admit my mistakes? Oh, I’ve made plenty in my time. The entire world has borne witness to most of them but I’d say the biggest to date is giving a cock like you the time of day. Not for much longer because soon you’ll be a pissing, sobbing little mess and will probably disappear when you fail YET AGAIN to win the big one.
With his smirk shifting to an outright grin, he shrugs with a flick of the wrist, dismissing the man who has been a thorn in his side for the best part of eight months.
Icon Corbin: But you, Sean? Still you cling to false information in the hopes of marring my name and reputation with everyone else’s brush, but you embarrass yourself with your lack of basic knowledge of the goings on in GZW and, trust me, considering how badly you and statistics go, I do not believe for one minute that…YOU are the one bringing buy rates and filling up Kowloon Park!
You need some truth in your life, you useless, lazy fuck and the truth is you’re nothing but a flat third wheel, an extra no one can do fuck all with in what should have been a one on one competition. And just because you apparently went out for injury, it doesn’t entitle you to just walk in and take title shots you’ve NEVER deserved – EVER!!
He looks away sharply, and then straight back at the camera.
Icon Corbin: Bitch, don’t even talk to me about World title divisions and how badly in shape it is when I have tried to revive what YOU near fucking buried beyond all recognition. It’s not as if I took that title while you made it so prestigious and blinded everyone with its brightness. It was dying. Long, slow and painful. Pretty much a testament to your title reigns, huh, Sean? History is a bitch, ay? But you can’t get away from it no matter what crap you spit out of that little cock hole. That’s not even me being derogatory when not a single person can work out why you’re really in this match other than you’ve given a mighty blowjob to someone high up. And don’t even bother about how the fans wanted you back. They will think what they’re told to think and production has a whole lot of editing to do to put those cheers in for you. So who was it, Sean? Who did you have to give “lip service” to? Who did you have to sell your soul to? Even as a Corbin, the infamously over privileged in everyone else's eyes, I didn’t just get a World title shot on my in-ring return match. Not that I wanted to either. But politics, huh, Sean?
He shrugs, seeming impartial to his random third challenger before he swipes his hand sideways, scrolling away from the second man to somehow win the Grand Slam. The man’s eyes narrow with his focus on the camera again.
Icon Corbin: And how about you, Big Shot? Trying to disarm the roster by anticipating them calling you out on your bullshit but that’s exactly what people will be doing. What they SHOULD be doing because in all the years you’ve been around, spewing bullshit is the one thing you have done consistently and successfully. I mean…cash cow?! What the fuck, man?! Since when has anyone relied on you? Begged for your presence? How does this work anyway? Is it the kids in the crowd? Do you think they are glued to a rambling motherfucker who doesn’t sound as if he has two brain cells to rub together and make a spark to donate to Sean Locke?! Doubt that.
Maybe it’s the girls? Well, you’re no silver fox but you’re going grey and getting a little soft around the edges. That gut you’ve got these days is beginning to show what happens when you take everything for granted and think the world just falls into your lap because you’re John Champa. So, not the females that will follow as you are more irritating than you are attractive and trust me, I know these things.
Must be the men, then, right? Well…no. How could they ever find you inspiring? Never have I heard anyone utter how they want to be like John Champa. I have never seen anyone emulate you, whereas I have been flattered on more than one occasion. Corbins usually are imitated but never duplicated.
Maybe they love a badass? Well, I’m already here, Johnny boy so that makes you redundant so that just leaves the senior citizen fans but I imagine they’d wanna whip you’re impertinent little arse before ever cheering or booing you. So, I guess that means no one is really paying to see John Champa and who could blame them?
The man sighs, and in another setting may have even been exasperated but he just laughs to himself, stopping with a quizzical expression on his face.
Icon Corbin: But I have to ask what exactly it was that you were searching for. What does ostensible perfection have to look for when there is nothing else he needs? Or how about admitting why you disappeared off the face of the earth the moment I tore you a new one, John, because that’s what happened. You dared to open your mouth and I shut you down. That’s what I do, “BS”. I decimate people before they even get to the ring while you send them into a coma and flee. Cash cow, though, yeah?
You had a shot. I opened the challenge and you ran, John. Do you really think people have forgotten that quickly? It’s back to the bottom for you. Why don’t you try to defeat Piper first before you even think about the World title? Because this is not your time. It’s not Sean Locke’s time and it sure as fuck isn’t Alex Cross’s time either. It’s mine and I’m not going anywhere.
He shakes his head, a native couple quickly walking past to get out of the shot as he waves a finger. He was resolute as he stood his ground.
Icon Corbin: In fact this match has a rubber stamp on it as far as I am concerned no matter what stipulation those idiots up finally decide on. You’re looking at the reigning champion of Heatwave and thereafter. I am that confident that I will walk out a clear and clean winner I am laying it all on the line. My belt and my career. I mean, if I can’t even beat two midcard-at-best underperformers then I simply don’t belong.
With that, he leaves his stare to linger for a moment before he walks out of view altogether.
Kowloon Park at dusk and the area he was occupying was a sight to behold. The green surrounding him with flourishing trees, a river to his right and bench to his left to enjoy the view. The title draped comfortably on his shoulder, the World champion stood serene in his usual kind of attire of tight leather trousers, New Rocks and a Munin “Paint it Red” T-shirt that had the sleeves cut off. His pink hair was gelled back slightly while his beard remained the same as before, finely groomed and outlining the subtle smile he had in place.
Icon Corbin: Not long before what for you is actually judgment day. One night in Kowloon Park will determine whether all the pointless sacrifices and self obsession of yours ways off or whether you leave Hong Kong with nothing but a broken body and a tattered ego because after all this, that is all you will have, Alex. Nothing but your thoughts to destroy you, and let me tell you something right now. If you think you’re suffering already and that you feel all a little bit crazy just you wait for the real consumption to take place. For months you’ve hounded me, singling me out, thinking you were justified in your actions of trying to break me down but all you’ve really done is revealed that you’re just a desperate little man with no fact or balls to back him up. I mean, why the desperation if you’re as confident in your ability as you’d have others believe? Why the urgency if you’re apparently the future of this business?
It was all matter of fact to the Ring of Honor Icon who had achieved more by the time he was Alex’s age even if there was only five years between them anyway. Not that age mattered to him when he considered himself still perfectly in his prime. Something that kept eluding the not-so-young-anymore Alex Cross. He paused as if he waited for a response or maybe it was to give the chance to think about his words before he once again broke his silence.
Icon Corbin: I’ll tell you, Alex. It’s because you in no way represent anything truly great. Never have, never will. So much so that deep down, even you are all too aware of it. You can walk out there with all that false bravado and puff your little pigeon chest out at the world, hitting women and mindlessly screw people over but it doesn’t guarantee you a fucking thing at Heatwave. In fact, you’ve never looked so vulnerable. You’re actually quite afraid, and it’s as clear as a summer fucking day that you will cling to your lies and delusions to get you through your miserable, lonely little life. You can’t even take responsibility for yourself so how can you be trusted with entire company on your shoulders? The Cross era now? Fuck that! I mean, I have had to cover for you when the fans get pissed, Alex. Imagine that. I am trying to get you out of the shit because you don’t want to do what you get paid to do. The future, yeah? Able to carry the weight, yeah? What kind of poster boy would you really make when you epitomise everything that is wrong with it?!
Even through his smile, his eyes gave away his derision for his challenger. He shook his head, shifting his weight onto his left leg and moved the title back up an inch.
Icon Corbin: Poster boy… I would never have hung you up on my wall as a kid. Never would have idolised you or found you inspiring. You’re no fucking Corbin, whether it’s me or my father. See, that man knew how to bring real heat and still make you cheer him. Still make you turn up to see him wrestle and spend your cash at the stalls even if you hated him. You just wanted to advertise how much you loved or loathed the man and I am no different. In fact, I am even better, but you? There are more fucking Clan Mayhem shirts being sold than yours and I have it on good authority their sales are pretty bloody dismal when compared to the main roster.
So are we really anything alike? Are you really the second coming of Vicious? Fuck no! You don’t have my skill set, my microphone skill, my tenacity, my drawing power or my good looks. In every way you are inferior to me, Two Stripe. And it’s not going to change so the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you to move on and get over it just like Munin is doing right now with you. The easier it will be for you to take the ever so inevitable loss at the hands of GZW’s greatest of all time.
The way he pouted would probably rile in no time, his signature sideward smile coming into play as he cocks his head a little, looking down his nose.
Icon Corbin: Did that sound a bit too confident for you? Well, tough shit poppet because it’s not arrogance when you can actually back it up and it’s high time you were made to face these cold hard facts. Forget the World title and your hilarious attempts at notoriety. I’ve got this shit covered and I don’t need your help when all you’re doing is bringing me down with you and giving me a bad name by association. You’re not the future when you act as a repellent for those who would seek a career in this industry, you’re just ludicrous. Everything about you is just fucking stupid that it’s an insult you would be given a match with me at all let alone me having to defend against you. Ludicrous… Right down to the way you would try to manipulate a teenage boy, emotional blackmail to get back the woman you dared lay your hands on like it earns you any respect.
He clucks, licking his teeth after, clearly pleased about something.
Icon Corbin: Oh, you thought I wouldn’t find out? Can you imagine what went through Munin’s mind when she was the one who heard that voicemail? Who do you think she went to, Alex? You might as well give up on her because that bridge is so burnt it might as well have never existed. You talk about how what happens between you two is no one else’s business but it’s looking more and more like you have less to do with her than everyone else now. You’re just a fading sour note. You mean NOTHING, Alex. To Munin, to GZW, and definitely not to me. You are slowly but so surely becoming irrelevant and, as you think you have seen? Well…you are definitely replaceable, soon to be forgotten. Considering the pounds of flesh you owe, you probably will need to be replaced on this roster after I leave you as nothing but a lifeless little carcass where the vultures of GZW will likely fancy taking my scraps. Disagree?
Do you realise how many people are backing me to beat your worthless little arse come Heatwave and teach you a lesson you won’t so soon forget? How many people would get such utter satisfaction to see you brought to heel? Now what kind of person would I be if I didn’t aim to please? That’s just who I am, Alex. I’m a crowd pleaser while you do nothing but disappoint at every level, personal and professional. Meanwhile, I’m the meat and fucking potatoes of this company while you are just the vegetable… How fitting is that going to be, ay?
He chuckles beneath his breath, moving his head slightly to gaze upon the belt on his shoulder before resting his gaze back on the lens.
Icon Corbin: I wonder what you’re doing right now. I don’t mean right this second because I know your blood is set to boil but in general. Repenting perhaps? So much hangs in the balance and all you can do is wait. Wait for your chance once again only for you to squander it yet again while you longingly stare at a replicated piece of worthless shit trinket. See, for all the fuss about taking my title belt, it’s a bit annoying for me to listen to people fail to comprehend, but for you it’s painful. Painful because we know the truth behind the pissy farce of yours. I can ignore idiots like Samson who you probably suck off for him to push you as something you can never hope to be, endorsing his fellow fucking idiots but what do you really think when you stare at that counterfeit belt you have, the only thing that can console your fragile little feelings?
Actually, I couldn’t give a flying fuck. Why should I care when you cannot even be bothered to get to know who and what I really am because you’re so far up your own arse, so self-absorbed that nothing and no one else matters? You’re actually there trying to contradict Sean Locke when you’re as ill-informed as he is. Don’t admit my mistakes? Oh, I’ve made plenty in my time. The entire world has borne witness to most of them but I’d say the biggest to date is giving a cock like you the time of day. Not for much longer because soon you’ll be a pissing, sobbing little mess and will probably disappear when you fail YET AGAIN to win the big one.
With his smirk shifting to an outright grin, he shrugs with a flick of the wrist, dismissing the man who has been a thorn in his side for the best part of eight months.
Icon Corbin: But you, Sean? Still you cling to false information in the hopes of marring my name and reputation with everyone else’s brush, but you embarrass yourself with your lack of basic knowledge of the goings on in GZW and, trust me, considering how badly you and statistics go, I do not believe for one minute that…YOU are the one bringing buy rates and filling up Kowloon Park!
You need some truth in your life, you useless, lazy fuck and the truth is you’re nothing but a flat third wheel, an extra no one can do fuck all with in what should have been a one on one competition. And just because you apparently went out for injury, it doesn’t entitle you to just walk in and take title shots you’ve NEVER deserved – EVER!!
He looks away sharply, and then straight back at the camera.
Icon Corbin: Bitch, don’t even talk to me about World title divisions and how badly in shape it is when I have tried to revive what YOU near fucking buried beyond all recognition. It’s not as if I took that title while you made it so prestigious and blinded everyone with its brightness. It was dying. Long, slow and painful. Pretty much a testament to your title reigns, huh, Sean? History is a bitch, ay? But you can’t get away from it no matter what crap you spit out of that little cock hole. That’s not even me being derogatory when not a single person can work out why you’re really in this match other than you’ve given a mighty blowjob to someone high up. And don’t even bother about how the fans wanted you back. They will think what they’re told to think and production has a whole lot of editing to do to put those cheers in for you. So who was it, Sean? Who did you have to give “lip service” to? Who did you have to sell your soul to? Even as a Corbin, the infamously over privileged in everyone else's eyes, I didn’t just get a World title shot on my in-ring return match. Not that I wanted to either. But politics, huh, Sean?
He shrugs, seeming impartial to his random third challenger before he swipes his hand sideways, scrolling away from the second man to somehow win the Grand Slam. The man’s eyes narrow with his focus on the camera again.
Icon Corbin: And how about you, Big Shot? Trying to disarm the roster by anticipating them calling you out on your bullshit but that’s exactly what people will be doing. What they SHOULD be doing because in all the years you’ve been around, spewing bullshit is the one thing you have done consistently and successfully. I mean…cash cow?! What the fuck, man?! Since when has anyone relied on you? Begged for your presence? How does this work anyway? Is it the kids in the crowd? Do you think they are glued to a rambling motherfucker who doesn’t sound as if he has two brain cells to rub together and make a spark to donate to Sean Locke?! Doubt that.
Maybe it’s the girls? Well, you’re no silver fox but you’re going grey and getting a little soft around the edges. That gut you’ve got these days is beginning to show what happens when you take everything for granted and think the world just falls into your lap because you’re John Champa. So, not the females that will follow as you are more irritating than you are attractive and trust me, I know these things.
Must be the men, then, right? Well…no. How could they ever find you inspiring? Never have I heard anyone utter how they want to be like John Champa. I have never seen anyone emulate you, whereas I have been flattered on more than one occasion. Corbins usually are imitated but never duplicated.
Maybe they love a badass? Well, I’m already here, Johnny boy so that makes you redundant so that just leaves the senior citizen fans but I imagine they’d wanna whip you’re impertinent little arse before ever cheering or booing you. So, I guess that means no one is really paying to see John Champa and who could blame them?
The man sighs, and in another setting may have even been exasperated but he just laughs to himself, stopping with a quizzical expression on his face.
Icon Corbin: But I have to ask what exactly it was that you were searching for. What does ostensible perfection have to look for when there is nothing else he needs? Or how about admitting why you disappeared off the face of the earth the moment I tore you a new one, John, because that’s what happened. You dared to open your mouth and I shut you down. That’s what I do, “BS”. I decimate people before they even get to the ring while you send them into a coma and flee. Cash cow, though, yeah?
You had a shot. I opened the challenge and you ran, John. Do you really think people have forgotten that quickly? It’s back to the bottom for you. Why don’t you try to defeat Piper first before you even think about the World title? Because this is not your time. It’s not Sean Locke’s time and it sure as fuck isn’t Alex Cross’s time either. It’s mine and I’m not going anywhere.
He shakes his head, a native couple quickly walking past to get out of the shot as he waves a finger. He was resolute as he stood his ground.
Icon Corbin: In fact this match has a rubber stamp on it as far as I am concerned no matter what stipulation those idiots up finally decide on. You’re looking at the reigning champion of Heatwave and thereafter. I am that confident that I will walk out a clear and clean winner I am laying it all on the line. My belt and my career. I mean, if I can’t even beat two midcard-at-best underperformers then I simply don’t belong.
With that, he leaves his stare to linger for a moment before he walks out of view altogether.
