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Topics - Jack Michaels

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1
Bad Company IV / Subtleties of the Storm Part Two of Two
« on: August 24, 2018, 12:24:23 AM »

The man known as “The Blast” stood with his arms around Kyra Johnson while the rain formed puddles on the sand at their feet. It was a warm embrace between lovers as Jack took her hand softly and walked back towards the bungalow. He gazed into the camera before running a hand through his hair; a soft mist of water spritzing the air. He looked back out towards the storm as a smile formed on his lips.
 
I was always a big fan of the rain… Growing up in the desert makes you appreciate what a cool mist can do. Everything that was once dirty becomes clean… Everything that was without life becomes vibrant. To me… It was as if God’s tears poured from Heaven to give us back the purity in which we had lost…
 
Jack continues to watch the storm as a reflective look comes over his eyes.
 
It never ceases to amaze me how much we lose as the years go by. Call me an old man but I remember when there was so much more to this world than just the ability to beat our own chests. We used to stand for what we believed in and reached for the sky. We did things for pride… To give a sense of worth to this thing we call life. It was never about giving out participation awards or just trying to meet the status quo but rather about being the best at what we were. 
 
A small smile parts Jack’s lips as memories seem to flood onto him.
 
It was simply better for us back then… A time when I was proud to be a pro wrestler and even prouder to be a champion. The world meant something to us all and we did whatever we could to stand tall in that time. 
 
The smile starts to fade from Jack’s lips as the glow from his eyes becomes dim.
 
But then… Something changed. We stopped being who we could be and instead turned into shells of what we were. There was no respect anymore… No passion for the sport. We wanted the cars, the women, the power… But we didn’t want to work for it. Didn’t want to EARN it. We forgot how we stood atop the shoulders of great men and instead fell into this role of superficial facades. Who we are means nothing as long as we get what we want. 
 
A small heartless chuckle escapes Jack’s throat as he turns to the camera.
 
I look at this world we live in and yeah. I get it. I’ll never know how it happened exactly but I’m not blind. I’m not stupid. I get that we have grown complacent in what is around us. I get that it’s easier to just say ‘hey, this is the way the world is now.’ The fact is, though, no matter what way you spin it… WE have chosen this path… WE choose to be settled. To give up. To quit… And honestly? I don’t want to see it anymore. 
 
Jack takes his gaze from the camera and looks back at Kyra who is now sitting on a table. He smiles lightly at her as he continues on.
 
It came to pass that I had to be the one to start the change because there was no one else who was willing to do it. The ones from my era… They were too beat up to keep going. They didn’t have the drive to be at the top anymore. They couldn’t handle what it was going to take to put the whole damn thing in reverse. I was all that was left and I started to find those around me who could help put it back the way it was. We started in High Stakes Wrestling. We came to Carnage Wrestling. We went to UGWC and now we are here In 4CW… To win Bad Company and become the new face of an old ideal. 
 
Jack turns back towards the camera as some conflicting emotion seems to be on his face. He looks down at the ground as he brings a hand to his head.
 
You do understand that I never wanted to be put into this role, right? That I never wanted to be the single torch bearer for what has to be done. That I never wanted to be forced to keep going at the age of 51. For Christ’s sake… Who would? For belts? For money? For glory? For… FUN? 
 
Jack looks back up, a fire burning in his eyes.
 
Is that what you all think? That Jack Michaels, Kyra Johnson and the whole of Paragon are here for their own twisted egos? Believe me… I never said to my doctor ‘gee, why don't you stick that needle in my back so I can have one more go?’ I never said to my daughter ‘sorry honey, I can’t come to your college to watch you compete because I need to get my blood splattered.’ But hey now, maybe the fun begins when I get smashed, bashed and crumpled to the end of my life? Is that when the fun begins for me? IS IT? WHOOPEE, HAS THE PARTY FUCKING STARTED?   
 
Jack’s breath becomes ragged as we see Kyra shift uncomfortably on the table behind him. He closes his eyes tightly and audibly cracks his neck as his breathing begins to slow down.
 
No... It hasn’t. 
 
Jack opens his eyes back up and glares back into the camera. His voice has taken on a sharp edge at this point; a powder keg of emotion.
 
I didn't want any of that but yet here I am… CHOOSING to keep pushing myself. CHOOSING to be that last hero in the world. That choice has led me here and the world of 4CW knows who I am. They have heard the stories. They have seen the fights. They can ask the Jay Moras or the Alessandros or the Bronxs or the Cosmos what Jack Michaels has done. What he has sacrificed. What hell he has brought to anyone that has stood between him and what he hopes to achieve. They may mock me, they made cut me, they may hurt me… But deep down they know maybe, just maybe, we can bring it back. That we can have the respect that is needed for our world and that maybe… I am the son of a bitch who can DO IT. 
 
Jack walks away from the camera and takes a seat on the table next to Kyra. We hear his knees pop a little as he grimaces. Kyra puts a hand on his arm out of concern but Jack shakes his head before looking back towards the camera.
 
I should be done. I know this. My body is a crossroad of pain and suffering from 21 years of proving why I had a place at the top of our industry. It’s for that very reason that there is still a piece of me that knows it can make that difference… Every broken bone, cut eyebrow, lost tooth… It all pushes towards what I’ve always known our sport could be. But, even then…   

Jack lets out a sigh as he stares back out towards the rain.
 
Until each individual wrestler from the main event star to the guy who moonlights putting the cheese on the nachos knows what the real score is… Nothing will change. No beating will help. No drugs will work. I can preach until I am blue in the face but nothing changes until you allow yourself to not be settled anymore. To not be afraid to fail. To not be afraid of what people may think. To not be afraid to be honest with who we are… We must remember what it took to get us to this point and honor those who gave us this tower to sit on. It won’t be easy… Lord knows that. We also know it won’t happen overnight. At times, it may the most downright brutal thing we put ourselves through but in the end... It's all we are going to have. 
 
Jack puts his arm around Kyra who snuggles up into him. Jack looks back down into the camera.
 
I’m not here to be your champion nor is Paragon here to be your idols… All we are is that little bit of burning desire that has not quite flared out yet. To the Outcasts in the first round… To the Reckless Elite… To the Carlson Dynasty and to every other person that does not wear the Paragon logo on their sleeve… It’s not personal. It’s not even professional… It’s simply the way fate has drawn us in. Paragon will be the winners of Bad Company. Paragon will hold the 4CW Tag Team Championships with pride and most importantly… Paragon will bring back that which has been lost. 
 
The camera pulls in tight to Jack’s face as a bolt of lightning flashes outside.
 
Embrace what was to change what is. Ladies and gentlemen…



….

…..

  Welcome to Paragon.    

 
The shot fades to black...

 

2
Non-Active Talent / Paragon #1 Info Jack Michaels and Kyra Johnson
« on: August 23, 2018, 06:11:15 PM »
Team Paragon

Theme Song - Simon Belmont Theme In Heavy Metal Version Composed By Naoto Shibata
https://www.youtube.com/watch?annotation_id=annotation_406408&feature=iv&src_vid=yBN1iWHZ2Hs&v=Fm0izZwnSGo
 

Team Finisher - The Fall from Heaven

Desc - A Doomsday Device Dropkick https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iit6IzvfAS8

Jack Michaels Bio Info - http://www.carnagewrestling.com/forum/index.php?topic=1172.0


Kyra Johnson Bio Info - http://www.carnagewrestling.com/forum/index.php?topic=138.0

3
Adrenaline / What we fight for...
« on: July 15, 2017, 05:08:37 AM »



Blackness.
A faint movement in the dark.
The sound of a cork being pulled out of a barrel.
A glass being filled.
The cork being shoved back in.
A maddening drip as a voice breaks the darkness...


--------------------

I know what you’re thinking...

Drip...

You’re trying to figure out why somebody like me is coming after the 4CW Tag Team Titles.

Drip...

“But he’s old... He’s a relic... He’s a fading memory of a time nobody cares about...”

Drip...

I’ve heard it all before and frankly...

Drip...

You’re right.

Drip...

I’ve got nothing left to prove. I don’t need anymore to gain. Hell, I don’t HAVE to do anything anymore... 

Drip...

...

Drip...

But... 

Drip...

What if there was something I needed to prove? What if there was something I needed to gain? I mean what if...

Drip...

What if that something was more than what I was? More than what I could ever be? What would I do to achieve that goal?

Drip...

Would I fight for it?

Drip...

Would I cry for it?

Drip...

Or maybe... Just maybe... Would I die for it?

Drip...

How far would one man go to achieve what his purpose really is?

Drip...

So... 

Drip...

What are you thinking now?

--------------------


A soft light breaks the darkness as we see a man cracking open a large, rustic door. The camera takes in what appears to be an ancient warehouse filled with dust, barrels and casks. As the light illuminates the room, we get a good look at the man standing in front of us. Standing over 6 feet tall and filling out his beige Poplin suit with well earned gym muscles, we soon realize we are looking at wrestling legend and High Stakes Wrestling CRO  “The Blast” Jack Michaels. At 50 years old, the salt and pepper in his close cropped hair and wrinkles around his face do not take away from the overwhelming presence he possesses. The two most startling features are his granite jaw and piercing eyes which come back to where the camera lies. A small caption appears towards the bottom of the screen as Jack walks towards the camera and picks up a glass filled with Scotch.


July 14th, 2017
Speyside, Scotland
Chivas Regal Storage Facility A
3:40 PM Local Time 


I remember picking up Chivas Regal as a sponsor for High Stakes Wrestling but I never figured I’d have a chance to visit their bottling facility. Then again, I never thought I’d be stepping into the ring for 4CW either so I guess life is just full of surprises.

Jack takes a sip off of his drink and takes a seat next to the cask he apparently pulled his drink from. He hammers the leaky cork with his fist and exhales deeply.

When my partner, Christy, told me about this tournament, I must admit I was a bit skeptical. I mean, what was the point for us to come halfway across the world to fight for one more title... One more trophy... One more piece of flash that while I do respect, I really couldn’t care less if I held onto it or not. But then... Something changed.

Jack chuckles lightly as he looks at the smoky, amber liquid in his glass. The smile fades from his lips as he ponders it deeply.

Do you believe in fate? That somehow we are all predetermined to do something in our lives in order to fulfill a greater purpose? That one day, you, me and everybody will find themselves in that moment which will define not only who we are as human beings but the very essence of what it means to be alive?

Jack takes his eyes off the glass and his gaze wanders far beyond what we can physically see.

I used to think that I controlled my destiny... That somehow I was the one that made the choices that shaped the world. It was all about me. Me. ME.

A look of disgust crosses Jack’s face as he looks up directly into the camera.

But no... It’s not about me at all now is it? It’s not about being your hero... It’s not about being the champ... No...

Jack stands up from the chair and walks over to where the light wind blows across the Scottish fields. He takes a deep breath and a new, small smile forms on his lips.

It’s about doing what’s right so the next generation can get what they deserve. It’s about proving once and for all that it’s never been about flash... It’s never been about money... It’s just proving that it’s about who is the best. Proving who can stand toe to toe and say ‘HERE I AM.’ God... It’s beautiful.

With a slight tear in his eye, Jack finishes his Scotch and puts the glass on a small table next to him. He turns back to the camera and nods his head.

This is the reason I am here. I am here to stake the line and dare anybody to cross into what we have built. You see, this generation of professional wrestlers have seemingly forgot where we came from. They want to believe that they are “special.” That they are “unique.” That somehow, someway, they are better than what I was... What my partner is... And what High Stakes Wrestling represents.

Jack turns and walks out of the warehouse as the camera spins to the front of him. He walks along the grass as he continues to speak.

So here we are then. Round one of the Bad Company tournament where two legends of the squared circle set to rectify the wrongs of this sport by squaring off with the current Pride champion Amber Ryan and her Johnny Come Lately partner Danny B. I mean, it’s really an interesting partnership isn’t it? One being the former face of Boardwalk, the other being some carny trash street thug with a penchant for violence. I mean, with the gold Danny won in the past, the Pride belt Amber wears on her shoulder and the sheer talent these two have, you would think that a washed up retiree like me would be worried wouldn’t you?

Jack suddenly stops and smirks into the camera.

You’d be wrong.

We hear the honking of a horn as a car starts pulling up the country road where Jack is. Jack turns to look at it and raises a hand in acknowledgment before continuing on.

You see, our first round opponents are exactly what I am out here fighting against. You think for one second that some reject from the Jersey Shore and his scarred up, hardcore, barbwire whore do anything to make me feel hope for the future of our sport? No... All it does is make me want to throw up. Let me give you a newsflash and this is more directed towards the Courtney Love reject more than anything... Hardcore doesn’t scare me. Extreme doesn’t scare me. More importantly... YOU don’t scare me. 

We see a slight tinge of anger cross Jack’s face as he cranks his neck slightly. He clears his throat and points at the camera.

While you were still getting drunk off the Jack Daniels soaking in your mother’s tit, I was out winning world titles. While you were douching with thumbtacks and masturbating with a barbwire bat, I was running a successful wrestling school and actually doing something to BETTER the sport instead of making it a mockery. While you tried to bleed your way to stardom, I made others bleed for ME. Everything, AND I MEAN EVERYTHING, you ever hoped to accomplish in this sport has already been done by ME. World titles, million dollar contracts, fan respect, global acclaim... I DID IT. And you know what? So did my partner. So have my students. So have dozens of other wrestlers like me that didn’t take a dump on the sport with this ultra violent crap and instead made it worth something to be a professional wrestler. We have respect, we have class and we have the desire to push this thing back to where it needs to be.

The car Jack waved at earlier has now made it’s way to where he stands and we see that it is town car being driven by Christy Clark-Chaos. She puts it in park as Jack looks back to the camera one last time.

I need everyone to understand that what Christy and I represent is so much bigger than what any one person could hope to accomplish. High Stakes Wrestling is not just a cute name because we are based in Las Vegas... But rather what we are willing to risk in order to prove that what we believe in is right. So whether it is Danny and Amber, the Asshole Antagonists, Cheech and Chong, Simon and Garfunkel, Hall and Oates or the reanimated corpses of Laurel and Hardy... We are going burn a fire in this tournament and piss on the ashes. And remember... It’s not about the titles... It’s not about the money... It’s only about the RESPECT. Oh, and as I always say...

IT’S GOING TO BE A BLAST!

Jack turns to look at Christy and laughs.

That’s my line.

Yeah, but I say it way better.

Christy smiles broadly as Jack continues laughing. He heads over to the car as the screen fades to black... 



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