Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Centurion · (12-19-2019)

Athena: Mrow!

(Centurion awakens in a condition he's used to - a splitting headache and a body full of regret.

Last night, Centurion hit the town with his friends on his first night out in Atlantic City in a long time. Centurion can party with the best of them, but the locals in Centurion's hometown step their game up. What started as a night to rewind and a celebrate turned into a night of blackouts and questionable decisions.

Oh, and a cat.

Centurion slowly opens his eyes to see Athena, the cat he adopted in his drunken stuper, curling up next to him. The older black cat pushes her head under Centurion's arm, causing Centurion to stir in his cot.)

Centurion: I actually did adopt a cat. Huh.

(Centurion rubs his head and attempts to shake off some of the cobwebs. He sits up, causing Athena to jump down from the cot. Sitting up only causes Centurion's head to spin more, and he closes his eyes as he drapes his feet over the side of the cot.)

Athena: Mrow!

Centurion: You better hope drunken me bought food for you last night or else you'll be eating salami for lunch...cats can have a little salami, right?

(Athena just tilts her head, obviously not listening to anything Centurion is saying.)

Centurion: Just like every other woman in my life.

(The sound of a bag opening causes Athena to bolt from the bedroom and into the gym. Centurion raises an eyebrow and slowly stands up, bracing himself against the wall before slipping on a pair of slippers and walking out of the room. Standing in the gym, opening a large bag of dry cat food, is Walter Crowe. He scoops out some food and pours it into a bowl as Centurion just groans.)

Walter: Well, good morning, Sunshine. Did you have fun chasing your youth last night?

Centurion: ...you brought cat food?

Walter: Someone had to. Poor kitty would starve if I didn't jump in and take care of it. Sounds like someone I know.

(Walter reaches next to him and grabs a Starbucks cup. He holds it out in front of him, as Centurion slowly shuffles toward him and grabs the cup.)

Centurion: I expect some sort of hour long lesson because of this.

Walter: Actually, I think it's great. A pet will bring a lot of balance to your life. Gives you something to take care of and focus on.

(Centurion looks down at Athena, who is munching away on food. Centurion lets out a slight laugh.)

Walter: So, I did some calling around. If you match wasn't a random draw, no one is telling me. By all accounts, it looks like this was completely random.

Centurion: Chris Chaos wins a match to be number one contender for the Hart Title, and he just happens to be RANDOMLY drawn into the same chamber match as me, and in the pod directly before mind? You know how suspect that looks, right?

Walter: Trust me, I don't know how much I really believe it, either, but I can't find any definitive proof that this was all set up by someone, other than the fact that it looks that way.

Centurion: Whatever. If the XWF wants to burn this match already, they're welcome to do so. They're just leaving money on the table in my mind, but I'm not in charge.

Walter: And we're all better off for it.

(Centurion gives Walter the "mad dog" eyes as he takes a sip of his coffee, but he seems completely unphased by it. Walter takes a quick sniff of the surrounding area, and immediately makes a face as if he is repulsed by it.)

Walter: Ugh, go shower. You smell like you slept in a bed filled with cigarette butts and Tito's Vodka.

Centurion: I may have gone through a lot on my life, but I would never lower myself to a point where I'm drinking Tito's.

(Centurion takes a large swig of his coffee before setting it back down and walking away from Walter. He walks over to the entrance of what was once the shower area for the previous trainees. Next to the door is a suitcase, which he flips open to grab some clothes and a towel before stepping into the room. After a few seconds, the sound of the water is heard, as Walter walks over to the door and stands next to the entrance in order to continue his conversation.)

Walter: You know, now might be a good time to consider moving up and challenging for the Universal Title. There's not much else to prove in the Hart division, and the Universal division is wide open.

Centurion: (Yelling through the shower) But it's not, though. Robert wants another shot at the belt, I'm sure. And the next pay per view is run by Fuzz, and I bet he's going to put himself in a Uni Title match.

Walter: He claims he's not going to. Besides, he has a briefcase now. There's no reason to do that. He's in the position of power right now.

Centurion: I guess we'll see.

Walter: That's my point, though. Go beyond one or two names, and there isn't a lot of competition left. At this rate, Lux is going to hold on to the Universal Title for a really long time.

Centurion: Didn't you hear? He goes by "The Engineer" now.

Walter: I don't care! You can beat him...and you might be the only one around that could.

(The sound of the water being turned off is heard, as if a few drips onto the shower floor. For some time, there is just silence, as neither Walter nor Centurion speak. Finally, Centurion breaks the silence, with his voice now no longer in a yelling tone.)

Centurion: I've thought about it, absolutely, but at the same time...that division is a mess. I just watched deaths take place on live TV. Shane

still has his slimy paws in that division. I feel like, if I decide to go for that belt, I'll be rolling around in the shit like everyone else.

(Centurion steps out from the shower area, wearing a fresh set of clothes. He has his towel over his head as he continues to try and dry his hair.)

Centurion: Besides, I still have more to do with the Hart Title. I'm already the greatest Canadian Title holder of all time. Why not...

(Centurion takes the towel off his head and glances over at Walter, who had not moved, or said a word. Centurion looks confused as he drops his towel and looks in the direction Walter is staring. There, standing inside, just in front of the doorway, is Erin Morgan, and standing next to her, is her fiance...holding a present.)

Nellie Cortinovis: Merry Christmas, Dad.

------Arntcha' comin' after all------

"Tis better people think you a fool, then open your mouth and erase all doubt."

If you told me ole Honest Abe was talking about Chris Chaos, I would believe you.

I've chucked at dumb things people have said before, but never have I been blown away by someone's pure stupidity like I am now. The absolute insanity coming out of the mouth of a man who thinks he's actually worth something, it's...well, it's almost enough to make me speechless.

Almost.

While I would love nothing more than to just stand here and yell "YOU'RE STUPID!" and be done with this, that wouldn't be very entertaining for the fans, and Chris Chaos would learn nothing by it. As everyone knows, I'm the kind of person who loves to teach people things. So I'm going to teach Chris Chaos a few things.

First of all, it's downright hilarious that you think I would he afraid of you in any capacity. You've done nothing - shown nothing - that would make me think you're some kind of threat. I get it - you're a badass. Whoopie Doo. You think I haven't come face to face with your type before? Like you're the only person I've been in the ring with who has had a little bit of success and suddenly they think they rule the world?

News flash: you're a dime a dozen. There's nothing new or original about you. You're a modern day Dynamic Dynamite. You're someone who had a neat run against inferior competition, and now you're being exposed as the pansy you are, and it's driving you mad.

Don't think you're anywhere near my league. That's insulting. I'm a REAL legend. I had to earn my status in an actual wrestling match. Ask Fuzz about that. I became a legend before "legend" was a title handed out arbitrarily by James Raven to whoever slid into his DMs that week.

By the way, if any of the so-called "Kings" has a problem with what I'm saying, they know exactly where to find me. John Samuels, John Madison, Theo Pryce - any of those assholes want to knock me down a peg, they can step right up.

You cling to that "Top 50" list like it's gospel. Let me tell you - there are some names not on that list that would whoop your ass. It's a neat list. Something nice for the fans to look at and debate. But it means nothing in terms of actual accomplishments. There isn't some set of criteria that you met that put you on that list.

It's remarkable to me the amount of people from the

Era who will tell old folks like me to "stop clinging to the past" and "quit talking about old accomplishments", while simultaneously talking about titles and wins they had four years ago. I understand "tunnel vision" is real - just look at some of the crap CCP's friends were spewing when they first came back. Folks like Bigg Rigg and Famine Of The Vile wanted to diminish the current crop of talent and claim their accomplishments "shouldn't count", which is also a load of bull. The

Era folks have that same mentality, as do some of the current era stars.

I have over 150 wins in this company. You want to know what my most impressive ones are? My most recent. Because, while I can brag about beating Erik Furious and winning my first Canadian Title in 2001, no one will know who Erik Furious is, the Canadian Title doesn't exist anymore, and half the roster wasn't born in 2001. And yet, still, I'm able to go out there, and not only compete, but win matches each and every night. I'm not just one of the best of all time - I'm one of the best in the industry TODAY, which is a far bigger accomplishment.

Despite all the things you've said about yourself and you've said about me, though, the most annoying, most asinine stuff came out of your comments to Robert Main following Saturday Night Savage. It's not a surprise you decided to go after Robert again - after all, he's the one to make you run out like a pansy - but what you said just irked me.

You went on and on about the "death of Apex". You mocked Robert for not having any friends left, and then said some shit about being the next Hart Champion. History lesson - Apex, in it's original form, no longer exists. Instead, it is now Apex Prophecy. It is the combination of the traditional Apex tag team with The Prophecy, a stable I created.

That's right, Chris - I created. The seeds of the most dominant stable in history weren't planted a couple years ago - they were planted over a decade ago, when I saw a young man by the name of James Raven and thought he had talent. From there, the ball started rolling, and the experiences and the information I passed on to Raven was since passed on to Robert and Drew. What's my point? This:

Apex Prophecy is dead when I fucking say it is. The fact that you think this group can be dismantled just because some folks are at home resting shows how little you know about something as simple as friendship. We don't have to be around all the time, tagging in every match and interfering in each other's matches in order to exist. This may come as a shock to you, but people can have a friendly relationship OUTSIDE of wrestling! *gasp!*

I don't know if you actually believed all that, or if it was just wishful thinking on your part. You know you'll never be invited to the cool kid's table, and once we're all in the same place at the same time, it will be nothing but swirlies and being shoved into lockers for you.

Hey, Michael Archer, calm down dude. You don't want to give yourself a concussion before this match even starts. I'd hate to step into the ring and see an empty pod.

I get it. You're angry that you're being overlooked. You don't like it when people handwave you. That's fine, but you have to see where we're coming from - you're nobody. Right now, all you are is a guy with a roster page that got Steve Sayors to sit down with him.

By the way, Steve Sayors will interview anyone anywhere. Literally. He's followed wrestlers to the gates of Hell before.

Why SHOULD we give you any respect? Why SHOULD we do anything other than overlook you? Just because you demand it? Just because you slap yourself in the face to make yourself look like a total badass? Word of advice - you're going to need to do more than that.

You never back down? So what? Did you think you were coming into a wrestling company where everyone is afraid to fight? No one backs down here...well, very few, anyway. Some folks like to scream from the back and cause chaos without actually wanting to fight.

Looking at you, Vita.

For the record, I never assumed you were going to just roll over allow us to do whatever we wanted, Michael. I assume you're going to come at us with everything you've got. I assume you're going to run into that cage with as much energy and enthusiasm as you can muster. I assume you're going to give it your all, and do whatever it takes to walk out as champion.

I just said you weren't any good.

I don't want you to back down, Michael. I want the best you can give me. Anything less, and this just wouldn't be any fun. I want you to see what true talent looks like. I want you to witness first hand what it's like to be in the ring against a superior athlete and a superior wrestler. In order to do that, though, you have to survive until I get in the ring.

I will say, though, that I may have been wrong and underestimating Michael's chances in this match. He may not be the first one eliminated. Which means...

Hello, Barney. Yup, you're back to being the weak link. I was hoping it wouldn't be you again. Really, Barney, there are some of us who want to root for you, but you continue to disappoint us all.

You're not "someone new" Barney. Stop with that. You're the same old Barney Green I beat a few months ago, which is the same Barney Green I've been beating up for a decade. You're a little thinner. You're a little tougher. But you're still terrible, and the fact that you think you even have a remote chance at beating me means you're brain is starting to turn to mush. You want to keep holding on to that vision of hope in your brain? Fine by me. I know you, Barney - once I absolutely demolish you, you'll forget all about it in a week, and go back to talking about "That one time I wrestled Centurion to a decent match seven years ago."

And that leaves me with...ah, yes, Robbie. I called you the "wildcard", and oh boy, have you not disappointed.

First of all, I want to apologize for assuming Robbie's weight would be what sets him back in this match. That was wrong of me. Somebody's weight does not determine how they will do in the ring, and for me to say otherwise was a mistake on my part.

No, what will hold Robbie back is his mouth...and his inability to see how much of a self parody he is.

First, let's get this out of the way immediately - you may have officially become the 500th wrestler to claim they were going to retire me. Congratulations! There's a cake that will be delivered to you soon. What you should be aware of, though, is fact that, out of those 500, about 450 of them were far more talented than you. We're talking legends - ICONS of the sport - declaring to the world in definitive fashion that they would be the one to put me on the shelf forever.

Hi. Still here.

Though, given your track record of "running people off", I think your threat is actually a good thing for my career. You ran off the Nazis? That's weird, I just saw Madison Dyson paling around with the Universal Champion. You got rid of the pedophiles? I was the one who had to bury Michael Graves for good. You got rid of the rapists? Shane

wrestled just a few weeks ago! For someone who claims to have gotten rid of the monsters of the

Era, you've done a real shit job at it.

If I was here, I would have done the job properly. I would have eliminated every last one of those sick fucks that thought criminal activity was the key to entertainment...by the way, that includes your buddy Dr. D'Ville. I would have made it so none of those folks would have their name etched in stone, remembered for all time. I would have systemically, one by one, destroyed every one of them.

But you're right. I wasn't here. You were. And you failed.

I'm going to give you a little history lesson, Robbie. Throughout the existence of the XWF, there have always been Nazis and rapists within the halls of the locker room. We'd also have psycho killers and evil beings from both the past and the future. You want to know why you don't hear much about that?

Because we took care of it. Those of us with any level of talent made sure none of them rose to the top. We prevented that shit from happening, and we dumped out the trash as quickly as possible. One slipped through our fingers - Cyren, and that's because he had his own enablers at the top that we needed to eliminate first.

So now you come for me, puffing your chest out and acting like your some kind of Lethal weapon, when you're nothing more than a foam bat. You elevate your accomplishments hoping no one checks your work. If you were the real badass, the real monster of that era, you would have been the one to finally send Unknown Soldier back to whatever circus from Hell he crawled out from. Instead, Lux had to do it...sorry, "The Engineer", who is also, apparently, another fucked up person from the

Era.

You're not a monster, Robbie. You're not a weapon of a cursed era. You're nothing more than a hanger-on. You taunt me, talking about being "old man Centurion", but I'm at least building my legacy every day. You keep yourself above water. You do just enough for people to remember that you're here, but not enough to be exposed as being a total fraud.

Lucky me, that's my job.

I have presents for everyone - pain. Pain you're going to receive when you get your...

SEASONS BEATINGS!!!

...son of a bitch, that one's worse than the last one! It sounds like the name of a shitty indie pay per view. I have one last one, and it will be a good one, I swear.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Human After All
Author	Message