Post by Joshua Dane on Oct 29, 2015 10:21:34 GMT -6
It was a chilly day in Chicago. Just now creeping back above forty-degrees. The quick Autumn that would undoubtedly lead to a long Winter was upon the city. However in this room, in this space it was not cold. At least not this man’s body temperature. His workout was in full swing. The camera focused in time to watch him run towards a wall, jump, and kick off of it with his formerly injured leg. As he sprung off the wall he reached out and just missed grabbing a small flag that was clipped onto a rope hanging from the roof. Joshua Dane landed in a crouch. Quickly punching the floor and rising.
Joshua: Damn!
He bounced from leg to leg feeling things out. He was frustrated but also encouraged. A week straight of intense training and his leg felt great. He was confident that it had fully healed and was back to 100%. The annoyance came from knowing he would need more. From his leg, from every inch of himself. This tournament would not be easily won. The competition ahead was no joke. Even if the other participants were treating it and especially him as such.
Joshua: You can do this. Explode…
Joshua backed up. He was focused on his target and began running at the wall again with ferocity. He leapt at the wall, sprung off of it with his leg, arm outstretch in the air, and this time his fingers clutched the flag. He again landed in an athletic crouch, prize in hand. He quickly hopped up.
Joshua: WOO! YES! Ha. There it is!
Joshua pumped his fist. After taking a few breaths he finally looked towards the camera. He could be embarrassed that he was caught exalting with such childlike glee. But when you’ve spent the previous few months gallivanting around in a cowboy costume, not much gets to you.
Joshua: GZW2K1 World Heavyweight Champion. It’s a hell of a thing. The thing every single person who steps into the ring everywhere around the world wants. The crowning achievement. The top pedestal. These are exciting times. The old guard seems to have broken down and finally passed on. Leaving the torch up for the grabbing. Who better to be in contention then four of the best wrestlers on the planet today… Or three best according to Champa…. Or two best according to Kolic… Or just the best wrestler on the planet and three easily defeatable schleps according to Munin.
Joshua shakes his head. You can almost see the chip firmly planted on his shoulder.
Joshua: Apparently I’m a non-factor. Maybe I brought that on myself. If there’s a dark horse or underdog. That guy would be me. No one expects me to win. Hell I’m apparently not even supposed to put up a fight. Kolic knows who I am and doesn’t care. Then again Marcus doesn’t care about a whole hell of a lot lately. He didn’t care when he lost friends. He didn’t care when he lost respect. He doesn’t even seem to care that his wife hasn’t spoken to him in over a month.
Joshua gives a sardonic thumbs up.
Joshua: Good job buddy. You’ve officially become the very thing you claimed to be trying to rid this company of. You tried to excavate the poisoned well but got thirsty and drank from it instead. I would very much like to face you in the finals of this tournament. At the very least you acknowledge my existence in this tournament. We have unfinished business. Perhaps we’ll get the chance to settle that score with the biggest prize on the line.
Joshua likes the idea. Kolic thought he’d ended his career and a bit of insanity mixed with the most ridiculous of loopholes, because, well… Wrestling. Brought him back. The chance to make it to the finals, get his redemption, prove himself, all the while leaving Kolic a hair breath away from accomplishing his goal. That. That was a fun thought. But Kolic wasn’t the only potential opponent for the finals. There was another. The only person in this industry he called a friend. Or did he? Sometimes he wasn’t sure how much he could trust Munin. Which was more on him then her.
Joshua: Of course some would say the clear favorite to make the finals and win the title is Lady Munin herself. Returned and reinvigorated. Munin did not see herself returning to the title hunt. Something changed. The fire rekindled. I couldn’t be happier for her or for this company that it did. You look up and down this roster. It hard to deny that Munin is the best. The only way to disprove that is to beat her. Now. In this tournament. Now look, Munin is a friend. We were both on very different paths in this company not too long ago.
She wasn’t all too concerned with titles, to me it appeared as if she was learning how to enjoy wrestling, not the bloodlust or the victories, but truly enjoy being in the ring, the moments that far too often slip past us as competitors. I had my sights set on the aforementioned Kolic with a crazy plan and gimmick. Munin for her part stabilized me. Pushed me, prodded, and guided me back to sanity. She encouraged me to leave the cowboy behind and stand up as a man.
It happened at the perfect time. That façade would not have held up in this tournament. At the same time this very tournament is what drew Munin...the Queen of the industry back into the light.
Now here we are. Friends and soon possible combatants. I know she could be, would be the greatest challenge I’ve faced in my career. She… well…
Joshua shakes his head. He’s struggling to find the words.
Joshua: Well… I think she knows I’m in tournament…
He pauses again. Lets out a sigh.
Joshua: I guess because she… “Rehabilitated” me. She doesn’t see me as much of a challenge. I’m not even sure she envisions me going to the finals. A time may come soon where Munin will have to pay much more attention to me. Not as a friend in need. Or a trivial project she can improve. As a force, as the only thing between her and The Championship. We are friends… So, for now… For now, I’m not too concerned with you either. Because that would be looking ahead. Something you seem to be doing. As far as I can tell from your words, you’ve got this title won. I have other ideas. And that all starts with John Champa.
Joshua smiles. You can almost see a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Joshua: John Champa. Hi. You seem to be a little confused. As much as I appreciate you thinking I’m some young new upstart trying to make a splash. That’s just not true. I get it, you’ve got the big ego. You probably only watch promos and matches that you yourself produce. There’s a chance that you won’t even see this. I wonder if I. Hmmm. Let me try something… Champa! Champa! CHAMPA!!!
Joshua jumps into a fighting stance and eyes the room around him. He shrugs then smiles resuming his relaxed posture.
Joshua: Worth a shot. Anyway, in case you actually take time away from your John Champa DVD collection or Action Figure set. My name is Joshua Dane. You may remember me from such storylines as. Indy wrestler Tamer joins GZW and teams up with Vernon Vanderbilt. Tamer has a drinking problem. Tamer fails in GZW Parts 1, 2, and 3. Or my more recent work: The Desperado rides. Any of this ringing a bell… No?
Joshua shrugs.
Joshua: I have a feeling I’ll be talking more to the GZW Universe then to Champa on the road Artic Blast. Unlike many others in this tournament I am not taking a single opponent for granted. I can joke about John Champa as much as I like. Frankly it’s fun and if you’ve ever heard the guy talk; then you know he is a walking punchline. In the ring. It’s a different story. I understand that John Champa is one of the baddest dudes to ever lace up. It’s why he gets away with being such a cocky, self-absorbed, S.O.B. He may not know who I am now, He may still be confused, or uninformed the night of the match. But one thing is for sure. When the bell rings. He will learn. Very. Very quickly.
Joshua turns from the camera and walks over to a mechanism on the wall. He unlatches a lock and turns a wheel lowering down the rope the flag was previously hanging from. Once lowered he reattaches the flag. Then returns to the mechanism raising the flag higher than it was previously and locks it into position. He lines himself up with the wall and gets to his starting point. Rolling his shoulders and bouncing from leg to leg to loosen himself. Takes a few short deep breaths. Then explodes running at the wall. Leaping towards it. Bounding off of the wall towards the flag hand outstretched. BLACKOUT
Joshua: Damn!
He bounced from leg to leg feeling things out. He was frustrated but also encouraged. A week straight of intense training and his leg felt great. He was confident that it had fully healed and was back to 100%. The annoyance came from knowing he would need more. From his leg, from every inch of himself. This tournament would not be easily won. The competition ahead was no joke. Even if the other participants were treating it and especially him as such.
Joshua: You can do this. Explode…
Joshua backed up. He was focused on his target and began running at the wall again with ferocity. He leapt at the wall, sprung off of it with his leg, arm outstretch in the air, and this time his fingers clutched the flag. He again landed in an athletic crouch, prize in hand. He quickly hopped up.
Joshua: WOO! YES! Ha. There it is!
Joshua pumped his fist. After taking a few breaths he finally looked towards the camera. He could be embarrassed that he was caught exalting with such childlike glee. But when you’ve spent the previous few months gallivanting around in a cowboy costume, not much gets to you.
Joshua: GZW2K1 World Heavyweight Champion. It’s a hell of a thing. The thing every single person who steps into the ring everywhere around the world wants. The crowning achievement. The top pedestal. These are exciting times. The old guard seems to have broken down and finally passed on. Leaving the torch up for the grabbing. Who better to be in contention then four of the best wrestlers on the planet today… Or three best according to Champa…. Or two best according to Kolic… Or just the best wrestler on the planet and three easily defeatable schleps according to Munin.
Joshua shakes his head. You can almost see the chip firmly planted on his shoulder.
Joshua: Apparently I’m a non-factor. Maybe I brought that on myself. If there’s a dark horse or underdog. That guy would be me. No one expects me to win. Hell I’m apparently not even supposed to put up a fight. Kolic knows who I am and doesn’t care. Then again Marcus doesn’t care about a whole hell of a lot lately. He didn’t care when he lost friends. He didn’t care when he lost respect. He doesn’t even seem to care that his wife hasn’t spoken to him in over a month.
Joshua gives a sardonic thumbs up.
Joshua: Good job buddy. You’ve officially become the very thing you claimed to be trying to rid this company of. You tried to excavate the poisoned well but got thirsty and drank from it instead. I would very much like to face you in the finals of this tournament. At the very least you acknowledge my existence in this tournament. We have unfinished business. Perhaps we’ll get the chance to settle that score with the biggest prize on the line.
Joshua likes the idea. Kolic thought he’d ended his career and a bit of insanity mixed with the most ridiculous of loopholes, because, well… Wrestling. Brought him back. The chance to make it to the finals, get his redemption, prove himself, all the while leaving Kolic a hair breath away from accomplishing his goal. That. That was a fun thought. But Kolic wasn’t the only potential opponent for the finals. There was another. The only person in this industry he called a friend. Or did he? Sometimes he wasn’t sure how much he could trust Munin. Which was more on him then her.
Joshua: Of course some would say the clear favorite to make the finals and win the title is Lady Munin herself. Returned and reinvigorated. Munin did not see herself returning to the title hunt. Something changed. The fire rekindled. I couldn’t be happier for her or for this company that it did. You look up and down this roster. It hard to deny that Munin is the best. The only way to disprove that is to beat her. Now. In this tournament. Now look, Munin is a friend. We were both on very different paths in this company not too long ago.
She wasn’t all too concerned with titles, to me it appeared as if she was learning how to enjoy wrestling, not the bloodlust or the victories, but truly enjoy being in the ring, the moments that far too often slip past us as competitors. I had my sights set on the aforementioned Kolic with a crazy plan and gimmick. Munin for her part stabilized me. Pushed me, prodded, and guided me back to sanity. She encouraged me to leave the cowboy behind and stand up as a man.
It happened at the perfect time. That façade would not have held up in this tournament. At the same time this very tournament is what drew Munin...the Queen of the industry back into the light.
Now here we are. Friends and soon possible combatants. I know she could be, would be the greatest challenge I’ve faced in my career. She… well…
Joshua shakes his head. He’s struggling to find the words.
Joshua: Well… I think she knows I’m in tournament…
He pauses again. Lets out a sigh.
Joshua: I guess because she… “Rehabilitated” me. She doesn’t see me as much of a challenge. I’m not even sure she envisions me going to the finals. A time may come soon where Munin will have to pay much more attention to me. Not as a friend in need. Or a trivial project she can improve. As a force, as the only thing between her and The Championship. We are friends… So, for now… For now, I’m not too concerned with you either. Because that would be looking ahead. Something you seem to be doing. As far as I can tell from your words, you’ve got this title won. I have other ideas. And that all starts with John Champa.
Joshua smiles. You can almost see a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Joshua: John Champa. Hi. You seem to be a little confused. As much as I appreciate you thinking I’m some young new upstart trying to make a splash. That’s just not true. I get it, you’ve got the big ego. You probably only watch promos and matches that you yourself produce. There’s a chance that you won’t even see this. I wonder if I. Hmmm. Let me try something… Champa! Champa! CHAMPA!!!
Joshua jumps into a fighting stance and eyes the room around him. He shrugs then smiles resuming his relaxed posture.
Joshua: Worth a shot. Anyway, in case you actually take time away from your John Champa DVD collection or Action Figure set. My name is Joshua Dane. You may remember me from such storylines as. Indy wrestler Tamer joins GZW and teams up with Vernon Vanderbilt. Tamer has a drinking problem. Tamer fails in GZW Parts 1, 2, and 3. Or my more recent work: The Desperado rides. Any of this ringing a bell… No?
Joshua shrugs.
Joshua: I have a feeling I’ll be talking more to the GZW Universe then to Champa on the road Artic Blast. Unlike many others in this tournament I am not taking a single opponent for granted. I can joke about John Champa as much as I like. Frankly it’s fun and if you’ve ever heard the guy talk; then you know he is a walking punchline. In the ring. It’s a different story. I understand that John Champa is one of the baddest dudes to ever lace up. It’s why he gets away with being such a cocky, self-absorbed, S.O.B. He may not know who I am now, He may still be confused, or uninformed the night of the match. But one thing is for sure. When the bell rings. He will learn. Very. Very quickly.
Joshua turns from the camera and walks over to a mechanism on the wall. He unlatches a lock and turns a wheel lowering down the rope the flag was previously hanging from. Once lowered he reattaches the flag. Then returns to the mechanism raising the flag higher than it was previously and locks it into position. He lines himself up with the wall and gets to his starting point. Rolling his shoulders and bouncing from leg to leg to loosen himself. Takes a few short deep breaths. Then explodes running at the wall. Leaping towards it. Bounding off of the wall towards the flag hand outstretched. BLACKOUT
