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Author Topic: Hold Back the Night  (Read 649 times)

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Offline Arizona's Most Wanted

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Hold Back the Night
« on: October 22, 2016, 04:47:32 PM »
I think I've played this song before
The melody is different, but I hear the drums of war

So it seems my mission is the same
What always ends in bloodshed,
begins as just a game

History repeating...

Who do they call when idiots need defeating?

They call me, that's who. And lemme tell you there are a looooooot of idiots needing defeating. Luckily, 'cha boy's up for the job. Man it's starting to feel like the good old days again, finally. All it took was some dolt calling the motherfucking FBI for the dumbest reason possible to unlock Classic Adrian. Who knew? I kinda hope Sativah makes it past the Twitter Troll if only so I can punch her in her stupid painted up face for making me have to explain to some nice old people why a sweaty dude in tights was coming out of a black unmarked van in the middle of their old white suburban neighborhood. They were cool though. Eventually. Nana Mary makes some amazing raisin cookies.

...Who the fuck am I talking to? There's no camera here. There's no setting either. It's just... words floating in a void. In color...

Oh dear god, I'm become one of them.

Adrian: Awkward.

Oh good it's me! Wait, I'm me. How can I be me and be him at the same time, and how can he be standing there if I'm over here talking into space like some kind of asshole with no concept of being able to talk about a match and have things happen during your talking at the same time. This doesn't make any sense.

Adrian: ...Maybe it's a dream?

Oh hey, that's a good point! Of course it's a dream. That would explain why I was standing in some weird... warehouse... looking thing. It looked like a warehouse, but it also looked like some kind of rift in time and space- with the buildings that clearly didn't fit crushed inside the warehouse, stairs wrapping around into the roof and then coming out of a different part of the warehouse. I tilted my head in confusion at, well, all of this.

Adrian: I am certainly doing that. Also, you do narration now?


Adrian: Well now I know it's a dream.

Cecil: The 'talking to your own weird incorporeal voice didn't clue you in in the first place, huh?

Cecil Kennedy. Another former multi-time tag team partner and co-champion, and my other best friend. He seemed to be taking this better than I was, but then he was always that way.

Adrian: Hello Ceece. And no, it's Halloween. We've both seen weirder.

Cecil: This is true.

We both shivered. We only had to think of Shiro Zombies to remember what a true nightmare really looked like. Nobody should ever be subjected to Shiro Zombies. Not even the Twitter Trolls.

Adrian: Eh, maybe them. So you have any idea what the fuck's going on here, Ceece?

Cecil: I dunno, but I'd bet it's got something to do with your upcoming Halloween Hell or whatever.

Adrian: Warzone of Horrors but I get your meaning. Weeeell, I have a feeling it's only gonna get weirder from here. Wanna take a walk and check things out?

Cecil: Sure! I've got nothin' better to do, it bein' your dream and all.

Adrian: Sweet.

We walked around for a bit, noting the seeming tears in reality that led to awful, horrible alternate Earths- places where Eli Carlson won things and held any sort of real sway outside of being Daddy's Pet Royal and fake champion of a no-longer existing brand. Did he ever even do anything about Cashe stealing his title? Does anyone actually care? Probably not. We eventually came upon a series of identical doors on both sides. It looked like something out of a Scooby Doo bit. I was almost tempted to run through one and see if I came out the other side of a different one. But thankfully we'd find out shortly why running in blind was a bad idea.

Adrian: Would we? Well with that ominous warning I guess one of us has to look in one the-

Cecil: Not it.

Adrian: ...Seriously?

Cecil: What? This is your dream, man. The nightmare fuel's alllll on you.

Adrian: You suck.

I took a deep breath and opened the nearest door.

Adrian: Hey this isn't soOHDEARGODNO!

Annnnd quickly slammed it shut again.

Cecil: Pat?

Adrian: Pat.

I shivered again, rubbing my arms. The horror of having to remember that "Platinum" Pat ever existed making my stomach turn.

Adrian: Your turn.

Cecil: Alright fine, I got this one!

He opened the door next to mine- and immediately also slammed it shut, his face turning a weird shade of green that I don't think I've ever seen anyone turn before.

Adrian: Pat?

Cecil: Worse!

Adrian: Yuko?

He furiously shook his head.

Cecil: Naked... Things... Bad Touch... Bad End...

I looked away as he threw up his lunch in the corner. After a few moments he stood back up, his face still green but slowly getting back to normal color.

Cecil: I want to carve out my own eyeballs.

Adrian: I don't blame you. Do we want to even bother with the rest of these knowing how they're probably going to turn out?

Cecil: I dunno. Weird narrative first person disembodied voice of Adrian, what do you think?

Terrified but needing to move the fuck on, we opened the rest of the doors. Thankfully, nothing was as bad as the first two, but they were still pretty shitty. One of them led to a world where the Tara/Marquis ass-eating match was the only thing on TV. Anywhere. In the whole world.  Another led to a world where people didn't use lame stand-ins for their opponents in their promotional videos as the literal only way to make fun of them.

Adrian: That was my favorite one.

Cecil: Also the least horrifying.

We continued on until we came across a lone door standing in the middle of an open section of the 'warehouse.' No room attached, just a door. I started to approach it but Cecil stopped me.

Cecil: Oh god I know this one. Trust me, you don't wanna go in there.

Adrian: Why?

Cecil: That leads to the Island of Doctor MorÚn.

Adrian: ...Do you mean Doctor Moroe?

Cecil: No I definitely mean Doctor MorÚn.

Adrian: ...It's Brandon, isn't it?

Cecil: When is it not?

Of course it was Brandon.

Adrian: What did he do?

Cecil: You don't wanna know.

Adrian: I really do.

I really did.

Cecil: Belieeeeve me, you don't.

[Cut to Brandon Young inside of a laboratory, wearing an oversized lab coat and a wig with frizzled hair that looks like it's been electrified, standing over a table as he works to attach multiple animal heads to what looks like Maddox Lucien's corpse.]

"Doctor Professor" Young: Muahahahahahaha!~

[Cut back to 'normal.']

Cecil: You reaaaaaaalllly don't.

I squinted, staring at Cecil curiously. What could be that terrible- Then I remembered, it was Brandon we were talking about. I shook my head.

Adrian: Ooookay. Carrying on, then.

We carried on. Eventually we came to a giant ravine. In the middle of a 'warehouse.' Dreams are fuckin' weird, man. Cecil, being Cecil- which meant spending almost the entirety of our stint as NEXTWIVE climbing the most ridiculously tall things he possibly could- of course wanted to climb it. Before I knew it he had on a harness and was latching a hook to the most sturdy rock possible. I chuckled.

Adrian: Still can't get outta the 'climbing tall things for shits and giggles' phase, huh?

Cecil: Hey, a man's gotta do-

At this point I wondered how badly my brain was actually fried because Cecil, my other best friend since like third grade- morphed into a Cecil-version of Captain Hammer from Doctor Horrible-

Cecil: What a maaaaaaaaan's gotta do!

-And I suddenly turned in Penny.

Adrian: Yooouuuu came from abov- oh come the fuck on!

Cecil: Seeeems Destiny, ends with me saving you!

Adrian: We are not doing this.

Cecil: When youíre the best, you canít rest, whatís the use

Doctor Youngibble: Are you kidding?!

Adrian: My thoughts exactly.

Cecil: Thereís ass needs kicking, some ticking bomb to defuse

Doctor Youngibble: What heist were you watching?

Adrian: I refuse to be a part of this.

Cecil: The only doom thatís looming is you loving me to death

Doctor Youngibble: Stop looking at her like that

Adrian: C'mon  brain, you're better than this.

Doctor Youngibble: Did you notice that he threw you in the garbage?
I stopped the van, the remote control was in my hand!

Cecil/Adrian: So please give me a sec to catch my- Nope.

I pushed away from Ceece, who was leaning eerily close to me. The 'world' changed back to 'normal,' including "Doctor Youngibble" disappearing in a puff of smoke. It's a dream. Shit's fucked.

Adrian: Look man, you're my brother and I love ya, but we're NEXTWAVE, not JPD and Eli.

Cecil: Really man, gay jokes? From you? After all the times people gave us that shit back in the day?

Yeah man, that's messed up.

Adrian: Okay first of all, weird first person narration thing- you're me! Shut the fuck up. Secondly, Ceece, we've never been involved in a backstage bit where our significant others caught us rolling around on the floor while another dude held his dick through a glory hole not more than five feet away from us. Not so much a joke as what actually happened.

Cecil: ...Fair.

Adrian: Now, do you wanna talk about what the fuck just happened here or do you wanna keep trying to figure a way out of this place and hopefully waking me up from this ridiculous ass hell of a dream?

Cecil: The second, please. I think the less said about Doctor Youngibble, the better.

Adrian: That I'll agree with. Take it away, weird first person disembodied voice of myself... thing.

We kept on keeping on, worming our way through various stupid ventures that are too dumb for even me to describe, and describing stupid ventures is basically my life! Having Brandon for a brother-slash-manager is taxing sometimes, I tell you what. I love the guy, though. After a while, we ended up at what seemed like the final door in this ridiculous madhouse of a dream. We knew this because it said "Final Door." Shocking, yeah? I shared a knowing (read- it's going to be terrible) look with Cecil and pulled on the doorknob.

Adrian: Well that's-

Cecil: -new.

We walked inside the door and found ourselves in what looked like a bad reproduction of that one scene from the Matrix. You know the one with all the TV monitors? Yeah. Only all but one, all alone in the very middle of the giant circular room of monitors, was turned off. I looked at the one that was turned on and playing video footage.

"Speaking of your on and off again significant other. We all know how sheís probably cooping with all of this. Sheís probably out blowing KD, then blowing JPD, then blowing my partner, Adrian Tanner." (Johnny gives a playful wink, but hidden along with that wink is an expression of great sincerity) "What, you donít think it can happen? Maybe we should just drop that discussion??"'

Adrian: No, no the fuck it couldn't.

I shook my head, trying to hold down the contents of my stomach at the thought. I glanced over to Cecil who'd found a remote sitting on a table nearby.

Cecil: ...This remote has thousands of numbers on it. Literally thousands.

Adrian: Of course it does. Dream, remember?

Cecil: Ah, right. Welp.

He randomly pressed a button, suddenly every single monitor came to life, all at once, showing an oversized digital version of Brandon wearing a lab coat and standing over the multi-headed corpse of Maddox Lucien.

"Doctor Professor" Young: Muahahahahahaha!~ You fools! You've fallen right into my Trap, now I will force you to watch Da Troll Guy's promos on loop for-

Adrian: Nope.

I grabbed the controller out of Cecil's hands and pressed all the buttons I could to make it stop.

Adrian: Whew, disaster averted. That was close. Well I think this is as good as any place to drop the hammer on some bitches, what do you think Ceece?

Cecil: Drop the whozit on the whatnow- Oh, do the promotional thing. Yeah I'd say this is probably the best we're gonna get so go for it.

He walked out of shot, finding something interesting on the other side of the room.

Adrian: You know what I love?

Cecil: Mint Chocolate ice cream?

Cecil said as he walked back into view with a pint of ice cream.

Adrian: Well, yeah. You know what I really love? When people go through a bunch of stupid bullshit in their promotionals leading towards a multi-man clusterfuck match that has nothing to do with anything and then end it with "I have nothing to say to any of you because you all suck and I rule." Which of course is code for: "I have nothing to say to any of my opponents because I am a fucking hack and can't think of anything interesting to say. And we're supposed to believe YOU are the greatest most awesome people on the planet?

Yeah, no.


Adrian: Thanks, weird disembodied first person narration of me.


Adrian: Now we come to the fun part, wherein I embarrass everyone involved in this thing and stake my claim to the 4CW World Championship. Now, admittedly I've been kinda laid back recently, coasting off of my tag partner but I mean- my first opponents in this place were Dante Anglais and Anna Badstreet. And it only got more sad from there. I let myself get, well, lazy, if I'm be honest. Not in training or practice mind you, but in the department where I shine the most in- making people eat their words for breakfast, lunch and dinner. There's one thing I like more than making bold-faced liars out of people who say they're going to 'destroy me' and 'take me to school, son' and all that lame shit, and that's telling them exactly how I am going to do it- and then doing it.

Cecil: You do that voodoo, that you do-do!

Adrian: Damn skippy. Do you people know how to do anything that doesn't involve using fake versions of your opponents in your promotional videos? I count three versions of this shit from three different people alone, and that's only counting this show! Are you all really that creatively bankrupt that this is all you can pull off? Being the World Champ is supposed to mean being the BEST in the entire roster, and I know our World Champs leave a lot to be desired lately but not a single one of you fuckin' jokes deserves to hold that belt or win this contract when you can't pull anything outta your ass further than "insult my opponent by hiring actors to pretend to be them in my video." I'm lookin' directly at you, Genie. You broke at least two of the Cardinal Laws of Things You Don't Do If You Want To Look Like a Competent Professional Wrestler, and that's only the two I cared enough to pay attention to. I already mentioned number one. Number two? Acting like you concocted some amazing plan to "trap" Sativah so you could break up with Twitter Troll #2.

You didn't plan shit. You got called the fuck out and you're playing damage control. Anyone who's seen the two of you dopes on twitter would know this "divorce" is a weekly thing and you'll be back together by the end of the damn pay-per-view. Might as well, right? You can console each other over losing.



Adrian: You're not "inside anyone's head." Oh hey, that makes three- The rest of the roster's got you and Eli so figured out you're clinging to whatever little bit of luck you pulled off by pissing Sativah off to pretend we don't. The Warzone's going to eat your ass for dinner and not in the way Marquis probably would if she were in this match.

Cecil: Do we really have to bring that up again?

Adrian: Sorry, sorry. Speaking of ol' Eli, 'sup brah? We seem to be at a misunderstanding here. You think I 'need' the praise of others to live my life, and while its true that I thrive off of the fans chanting my name, while I'm at my best when they're cheering their hearts out for my mad skills in that ring it's not a necessity. What is necessary is you understanding how little I value or believe anything that comes outta your mouth. Before the world had ever heard of 4CW OR Eli Carlson I was out there, doing my damn thing, lighting up arenas of all sizes, getting reactions you could only DREAM of! There's nothing about me that isn't the realest of the real, while you- you are nothing but a phony. A fake. A fraud.

Keith Daniels beat your fuckin' head in on Adrenaline and you walk in the next show and act like nothin' happened. Because that's the type of guy you are, that's the type of guy 3/4s of this roster is. You don't show weakness, you CAN'T because Raptor Jesus forbid someone see you as something not perfect like you portray yourself as. And yet I'M the one looking for attention and praise? Ninja please.

Cecil: Oh no he di'nt.

Cecil Z-snaps all over your face!

Adrian: And don't get me wrong, Daniels and Sativah are walking caricatures pretending to be real people, but I'd still take either of them at face value before I'd take anything Eli says for real.

Darin Matthews and Scott Stevens? Who cares? Why are they in this match again? At least Hashtag Da Troll Guy had a few matches before he was thrown in with the Big Kids.

Tara- Honestly? I got nothin' bad to say about you. As usual, I respect you and your husband, though him slightly less than you. That Lifetime pitch was fuckin' hilarious, bravo. I'm still gonna have to do whatever I can to smash your pretty brains all over the mat but, I respect you. Lookin' forward to seein' you in the Cage, honest.

JPD. Fuck you, you fucking fuck. Kidding!


No but really, you are far away and the top competition in this thing. You've been on fire around here and you are the odds on favorite to win.

But Johnny's gonna kick your fuckin' head in. You've got it coming pal, and I for one welcome our new XTC Overlord!

Cecil: Has anyone ever told the 4CW higher ups that XTC sounds like some kind of sexual disease?

Adrian: Probably.

Does that cover the important guys? I would say more about Hashtag Da Troll Guy but he did a Gagnam Style promo and I just- the less said about that the better.

I sigh heavily, rubbing my hands together as I look into the camera.

Cecil: Still doin' the self-narration thing huh?

Adrian: Shhh.

Look, question my wrestling ability all you want. Every given Sunday and all that, anyone can and probably will walk out of this thing as the winner. But do NOT question my heart, my will! My desire to be the BEST runs through my bones. My heart lives and breathes for this business!

You wanna go to war? I've been to war! I've been in wars that took years off of my life, and this is looking like another one. I will gladly walk this road if it means 4CDub can have a Champion worth something again. Tara's right, we need a Champion we can be proud of, and Jair Hopkins and Dakota Smith ain't it.

I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, I'm not saying it's gonna be a cakewalk. My arrogant demeanor aside there's some real talent in this match. I walked into this show not really wanting this opportunity. I wanted to earn it through sweat and blood, but now I'm here and we're days away and I'm wide awake and wondering why the fuck I'd ever want anything different.

Fuck the Genie Show. Fuck the JPD Kingdom. Fuck the Eli Carlson Express.

It's time for the ma-fuckin Adrian Tanner Experience. One-way train ticket to my boots raining down on your face while I climb the ladder to success once more and do what I came here to do in the first place- win all your shit.

It's go-time kiddos. And the Arizona Assassin's playing for keeps.

Pointin' that gun right up in your viewing globes.

Adrian: Bang.

[FADE to your mothers.]