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Post by Cleo Phillips on Dec 18, 2022 17:57:43 GMT -5
Hard open on an illuminated shot of Cleo Phillips, in a dark room. She sits on a steel chair in her usual backwards fashion for style. The PWS World championship drapes over the back part of the chair in front of her, her shades are pulled up over her head atop a “Merry Xmas” ballcap and she has her serious face on as she addresses the camera.
“I ain’t always been perfect.” said Cleo, keeping a firm gaze on the camera, “I'm just out here trying to be a fighting champion, a positive example for the next generation. I came to realize, there’s still a lot people don’t really know about me. Sure people know I have a criminal past, that I’ve done time on more than one occasion and how I grew up in poverty. But who really is Cleo Phillips? Surely she must have many stories to tell, and she does.
Cleo takes in a deep breath as she continues on.
“As we went into Dishonored, you all were treated to the first of my Life of Cleo videos.” she continued her voice shaking slightly, “The first of many, in which you got a peek at a tragic event in my love life, the death of my girlfriend Juliet….”
The event, which was years ago at this point clearly still weighs heavy on her mind.
“I know it may have been a bit too real for some” Cleo continued on, “But that’s just me, that’s the life I lived. I can’t be anything but real with ya’ll. Before we discuss Mike Hawk, and how he has every tool to be a World Champion, but he isn’t the champion we need right now, not with all the David Shane bullshit going on. In any case, please enjoy the followup to my Dishonored video.
_______
On a solid black background, some words appear, read by the voice of Z-Money before, the video clip starts.
The following is a reenactment of a moment in the life of Cleopatra Phillips using paid actors and actresses, it may contain violence and subject matter not suited for young children.
Viewer Discretion is Advised.
A young man stands selling drugs on a street corner, he seems to be in a calm state until a car comes screeching to a stop just in front of him, and the same actress from last time jumps out, playing the part of Cleo. Rage on her face and pistol in hand, she charges the guy and presses him up against the wall.
“Who the fuck did it?” she demanded.
“The fuck you on bitch?” the guy replied, showing no fear even while pinned against the wall of a liquor store.
“One of your fucking people killed the woman I love, and I’m not gonna let them get away with this shit.” said Cleo, “Who the fuck you got doing drive-bys?”
“Man, I don’t fucking know.” the guy replied, “I just work the corners.”
Cleo scowls, and spits in the guys face before pistol whipping him, the guy crumbles to a knee.
“Then I guess you’re fucking useless to me.” Cleo said, cocking the gun. “You’ll make a fine message though.”
“You gonna shoot me in cold blood?” the guy said, “Then fucking do it, right here on this street corner in broad daylight.”
Cleo huffed, she knew it wasn’t the best idea and people were watching, someone had to of called the cops by now.
“C’mon” the guy taunted, managing to grab Cleos arm and force the gun to his own head while still in Cleos grasp. “Fucking pull the trigger, get your revenge.”
Seething with anger, Cleo pushes the gun harder into the guys forehead, just before hearing someone call her name.
“YO CLEO!! CHILL!” the camera pans, and it’s Z-Money who apparently has decided to play himself.
Z-Money hustles over to Cleo, out of breath
“Yo, Cleo….chill” said Z-Money, “ You smoke this fool, that’s it. You’re done. You’ll get locked up for murder, you know that ain’t our style. We don’t kill people.”
“One of them fucking killed Jules, and tried to kill me!” Cleo spat back angrily.
“I know..” said Z-Money, “I was rollin’ up when it happened, I saw you speed off in her car. I knew you had to be going to one of their corners, you know how fucking fast I had to bike here?”
“What about Jules?” said Cleo, “She didn’t deserve to be shot.”
“I know.” said Z-Money “But this? This isn’t justice Cleo. It’s cold blooded murder, and that’s not you.”
“Yeah, listen to your boy, you don’t have it in you to pull the trigger.” the other guy snarked.
“Shut the fuck up, ain’t nobody talking to you.” said Z-Money before punching the guy in the face, the guy crumbled to the ground, as Cleo lowered the gun to her side.
“He’s not worth it Cleo.” said Z-Money “Let’s just get the fuck out of here before the cops show up.”
Cleo sighed, this wasn’t what she wanted but she knew Z was right, she was no killer and this wasn’t justice.
“Hop in, and we’ll get out of here then. ” said Cleo not sounding fully satisfied, a last kick to the guys chest while he was on the ground seemed to pacify her, as she hopped back in the drivers seat of the car, with Z riding shotgun. They drive off, and the camera stays on the drug dealer wincing in pain on the ground, but alive.
—------
We return back to the real Cleo in the same room, on the same chair, title still draped over the backside, shades still pushed up on her head over the “Merry Xmas” ballcap
“Z saved my life that day.” said Cleo. “I’ve always been somewhat of a hothead, sometimes I just kinda lose myself, but Z has always been able to pull me back, and keep me grounded when I get a bit too….aggressive, and don't worry I bought him a new bike.”
She shrugged to herself.
“You should really be thanking him Mike” Cleo continued, her eyes still fixated on the camera., “He saved you from getting your head ripped off when you decided to mock my words to David Shane, because I was coming for blood, all you did was make it personal. You showed me that night that while you have all the tools to be a champion, you are NOT the champion we need at this moment.”
She lifts up the championship and looks at it proudly, as she rests it on her shoulder.
“This company needs a champion that will stand up and fight. A champion that will show David Shane and ANTITHESIS no fear. Not a champion that constantly picks the lowest hanging fruit in order to make a few jokes.” Cleo continued on, “It’s not like you don’t have what it takes to take a stand against them either, you and I both share the same disdain for Jonathan Sanders, your problem is you take nothing seriously, and that’s not what PWS needs at this moment.”
The look Cleo carries in her eyes tell how much being champion means to her, and her overall aura as she speaks gives leadership vibes.
“You know Team Star has some heavy hitters on it’s team, but if I wasn’t dealing with you Michael, I would have been one of the first to sign up.” Cleo said, “I like to imagine your hatred of Sanders means you quite possibly feel the same way, and maybe in some other multiverse, you and I have joined forces and put an end to ANTITHESIS once and for all. Unfortunately for you, we live in this multiverse where you and I have a score to settle.
Pausing for a moment, she nods to herself, as she ponders her next words.
“I’ll give you credit.” she said, “You laid out the challenge. You wanted this to be an Ironman match because you have something to prove and in your own roundabout way, you want to prove it in the best way possible. I respect that. I do. I just want you to put the jokes aside and focus on your actual talent. I want you to just come out there and fight.Show me the best Mike Hawk has to offer, the real Mike Hawk. The one you and I both know you like to keep hidden behind that comedic persona. There’s a real fucking fighter in there, I saw it when you stood up to Sanders, I saw it when you challenged me a few weeks ago. I want to fight THAT Mike Hawk. I DON’T want to fight the one that makes a mockery of someone who was taking a stand for the very company that changed their life. That’s all I ask Mike, just come at me real. Because If I’m honest, belt or no belt, I will always be a champion."
She takes in a deep breath and nods slightly again.
“Because this belt, it’s nice and it’s a valuable symbol of ones status as a champion. But if you have something in here…” she said tapping her chest, near her heart. “You have something that can never be taken away by anyone. I have the heart of a champion, and I will always champion for these people. I don’t need the belt to prove myself to anyone. The fans know who the realest in this company is, and they also know that means I won’t just roll over and die for you.”
Her tone becomes a bit more intense, as she starts getting more focused and serious.
“I’m going to bring something out of you, that you probably didn’t know existed Michael.” she said, a sly grin on her face, “I’m going to take you to places you might not be ready for because I’m a born fighter. We’re going to bleed Michael, and we’re going to hurt each other. But when the smoke settles, no matter how many points you score on me, I will still manage to do what I do best and just keep fighting until my hand is raised, and I walk into the new year as World Champion.”
She keeps the grin on her face, and continues on.
“The bottom line Michael is we all know this Team Star and Team David stuff is only the beginning.” she continues, “This company is gearing up for a war and we need to make sure we’re on the right side. I know what side I’m on, and what Star Stormz needs going into the future, what PWS needs going into the future is the leadership of Queen Cleopatra. What they aren’t going to need, is the court jester.”
She winks, and grins at the camera.
“Hey, I’m not against jokes.” she says “But I’m just saying, there’s more to you than the jokes Mike, and I know it, and I’m going to pull it out of you. Just remember, YOU wanted this. You called for it so when I walk out, still PWS World champion then you have nobody to blame but yourself.”
She proudly pats the championship on her shoulder.
“I am Cleopatra Phillips.” says proudly, “And I am the PWS Apex World Champion. I will continue to be it’s champion for a long time and if ANYONE has a problem with that, be it Mike Hawk, David Shane, Any of the Russows, Any of the ANTITHESIS assholes. Give me Slaps, let Alexis and I have another classic. Or perhaps I can do my part in teaching that dirtbag ho Heather Haze a lesson or two. I don’t care. Anyone wants these, they are going to have to go through hell itself to take it because I’m not letting it go so easy. I’ve fought too hard, not just in PWS but my whole life, and this moment right now as PWS champion is truly the greatest moment in my life and probably will be until the day I die. I might even win it multiple more times, but this first run will always mean the most, and I want to make it one of the best. Mike Hawk, you better damn well be as ready as you say you are, because it’s going to be time once again for me to…”
“SET IT OFF!!”
The camera lingers on her face, as she lowers her shades.
“Oh yeah.” she says “Happy Holidays everyone..”
She nods with a smile at the camera, as the scene slowly fades out.
_______
With the holiday season upon us, its the time for people to give thanks and show appreciation and love for the people closest to them in their life, for PWS World Champion Cleo Phillips that person is in fact Zachary McNeil, known to PWS fans as Z-Money. The two have taken sometime for themselves to just relax, and exchange some gifts before Cleos big match with Mike Hawk in Barcelona.
The Christmas music plays in the small European cafe, as Cleo and Z-Money sit at a table with their coffee and wrapped gifts in front of each of them.
#Run, run Rudolph, Santa's gotta make it to town Santa, make him hurry, tell him he can take the freeway down Run, run Rudolph, I'm reelin' like a merry-go-round#
“Still alive..” Z-Money muttered to himself, “This is gonna be my year.”
“What are you talking about?” questioned Cleo
“Whamageddon.” Z-Money replied, “From December first, until Christmas you have to try and NOT hear Last Christmas by WHAM!”
Cleo laughed and just shook her head
“You don’t think Mariah Carey is a better choice?” she replied
“Well, she does come out of hibernation every winter to serenade us,.” Z-Money said with a laugh of his own, “But I didn’t make up the game, and the rules are for the Wham! Song.”
“Well, good luck.” Cleo said, taking a sip of coffee. “So, you gonna open your present?”
“Thought you were gonna go first” Z-Money replied, “But if you insist.”
With the enthusiasm of a small child on christmas, Z-Money rips into his gift, to find Cleo got him an expensive gold watch.
“Rolex!” he says his eyes growing wide, “You serious tho?”
Cleo smiled, “Hey, you’ve been by my side all year, through everything. It’s the least I could do. Being the champ comes with some perks in the ol 'paycheck.”
“That’s wassup tho.’” said Z, still smiling, “I preciate’ it. How bout you open yours now.?”
Cleo nodded, happy at seeing her friend smile as she opened her present, she looked down at it and her smile grew even bigger.
“It’s a picture all of us, the last time we were all together. Look there’s Trisha and White Boy Roy, there’s Charlie Boy, Shitty Pete, unfortunately I couldn’t crop out Big Mo’ so her trifilin ass is there too.” Z said pointing to all their old friends, “There’s me, there’s Lester, you’re right there…and there’s Lato..”
“Juliet took this picture…” said Cleo interrupting, the slightest crack in her voice.
“Yeah…” said Z-Money, “I know it’s not a Rolex, but I had it framed and everything. I figured..”
“I love it.” she Cleo interrupted again, “We had some good times back then didn’t we?”
“Yeah, we did.” said Z-Money, “Bad ones too, but I wouldn’t change anything."
“Yeah, me either. That’s just a chapter in our lives we’ve closed now.” said Cleo “But we’ll never forget where we came from.”
“No doubt.” nodded Z.
“I’m just glad you’re still here with me for this new chapter. Team Cleo is going to have an even better 2023. Started as US champion, and ending it as World Champion. BET.” Cleo states.
“Just don’t let Hawks antics get to you. He only wants to get under your skin, you know that’s all he wants.” said Z-Money “He isn’t any problem you haven’t handled before.”
“That may be, but he has a different fire in his eyes recently.” Cleo replied, “It won’t be so easy this time.”
“That may be.” said Z-Money “But so do you. Ever since you won that belt you’ve stepped up even more. Mike Hawk better hope he knows what he got himself into”
“Oh I’m sure he has something up his sleeve.” said Cleo, “But as always, I’m ready for anything that’s thrown at me, and I’m not about to let Mike Hawk of all people prevent me from going into the new year as champion.”
Cleo takes a sip of her coffee, and looks at the picture she got from Z-Money once again, as a look of horror overcomes Z’s face as he hears the song being played in the cafe.
#Last Christmas I gave you my heart But the very next day you gave it away This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special#
“Oh sunuvabitch!!” Z said, pounding a fist on the desk, elsewhere someone else could be heard cursing as well.
“Better luck next year Z..” Cleo said with a shit-eating grin.
“Yeah very funny.” Z-Money said with a pouty expression.
Cleo just laughed to herself, Z-Money got over it after a few minutes and the two continued to laugh and talk about old stories and all the things their futures might still have in store.
_______
Cleo sits alone, on a quit European hilltop, away from the lights, camera and sizzle of PWE. She came without Z, and setup her own tripod to address her tans, the people that supported her and believed in her enough to allow her to have this new life, she still wasn’t sure she even deserved.
The cool air blows through her hair, as she overlooks scenery that looks as though it’s pulled straight from Lord of The Rings.
“I still can’t believe this is real sometimes you know.” she says, not fully looking at the camera, but very much giving it her attention at the same time. “I mean I got to tour Europe. The last few years of my life have been such a dramatic change that I just never thought possible.”
A bird caws overhead, and Cleo smiles up at it.
“I know I probably sound like a broken record.” she says, “But when you come up like I did, and are gifted the life I have now, you can’t be anything but thankful. I was given a second chance, and i intend to make the best of it.”
She pauses for a moment, just taking in the scenery.
“I’m far from the streets of New York.” she said “I don’t think the old me would appreciate the beauty of this place. But now, the personal growth I’ve gone through since arriving in PWS. I have to say, she’s wrong. It’s calming out here, you can just sit and think.”
Some more birds caw, as they fly overhead.
“I owe everything to my fans, and I don’t plan on letting them down. I can’t.” she said, “I want to be the leader for this company, because I owe this company my life. That’s something Mike Hawk just can’t get through his hatchet-head, and that’s why I took his mockery personally. If it wasn’t for PWS, I would still be running the streets on the same ol’ bullshit. Truth be told, I’d probably be dead. It’s just the harsh truth. This company needs someone who will stand up and champion for it, not someone like Mike Hawk who will champion for themselves.”
Another short pause, just taking in the beauty of the hills around here, giving the viewer a comforting feel as she speaks.
“It’s the only way I feel I can pay all my fans back for believing in me.” she said, “By continuing to be an example of change, that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel and no matter where you come from you can become a champion like me. Maybe you have to work a little harder than some, and it may not be fair but it makes you stronger, gives you more grit, gnomesayin’?
She stands up, and stretches her arms outward, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air around her.
“I still have so much to tell, so much to give.” she continued, “I want to be somebody who, one day inspires someone younger than me. I want the future generation to mention my name as someone who inspired them, and that only happens by putting in hard work.”
She looks up again, at some more birds, perhaps they were migrating. Although it felt a bit late in the year for that.
“The bottom line, is simple Mike Hawk isn’t ready to actually be champion.” she continued, “To him, it’s just going to be some shiny jewelry he can carry around and show off to people. He isn’t about the hustle, the grind, the spirit it takes to be a world champion.”
She turns, and walks close to the camera, picking something up from nearby it, it’s the World Championship, which she rests on her shoulder.
“I toured Canada with this, and then I toured Europe.” she began, “And I had a great time doing it. But now it’s time for me to take this belt home, and I can only do that by beating Mike Hawk at Crusade and going into the new year still PWS World Champion.”
She nods,and looks at her belt with a great look of pride and confidence.
“He’ll probably talk and make jokes about myself, about Z, , maybe even do some parody of some famous christmas movie and make it relate to our match somehow, but that’s just not enough to make one a champion.” she said. “Remember talk is cheap, and at Crusade our match will be anything but funny. I am your PWS World Champion, and if I can promise one thing, Crusade will bear witness to the most important hour of Mike Hawks life., and when the smoke settles the final score will show that I am STILL your PWS World Champion.”
She hoists the championship high in the air, and stands tall, with a scene rolling hilltop as the backdrop, looking ready for anything, the champion vibes silently emitting off her. She’s ready, and if Mike Hawk isn’t, then he better get ready real quick or it’s going to be a long night at Crusade for the President of Professional Wrestling.
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Post by Mike Hawk on Dec 18, 2022 20:40:47 GMT -5
*In a darkened room, in a small, quaint house in the middle of a snowy city, lies Mike Hawk. He’s sleeping, but soon he is attempted to be awoken by a familiar face. Someone he’s faced off against in the past, and been nothing but a nuisance to ever since: Richard Rider. Rider suddenly appears in the room as a spooky ghost, but not as a Halloween ghost, as a Christmas ghost. Meaning that nothing changes appearance-wise, he just sometimes makes the sounds of sleigh bells when he moves.*
Richard: Boo!
*Hawk remains asleep.*
Richard: Ahem... BOOOOOO!!!
*Hawk doesn’t budge. He mutters something about French toast. Rider sighs.*
Richard: Oh, for the love of…
*He walks to the other side of the room, turning the lights on, then comes back over, putting a hand on Hawk’s shoulder and vigorously shaking him awake.*
Richard: BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
*Hawk finally stirs, looking at his specter.*
Mike: Oh no, it’s a just okay James Bond film!
Richard: Mike… I am the ghost of Christmas past.
Mike: Long past?
Richard: No, your past.
Mike: Well, I AM pretty long. Alright, let’s give it a shot!
Richard: What?
Mike: Well, you’re gonna take me through my past misdeeds and tell me that I had never been born or whatever, I never saw the movie. So let’s go, I’m ready.
Richard: First, Mike, you will…
Mike: Look, I’m a busy guy, I’ve got a world title match tomorrow, can you hurry this up, please?
Richard: Fine. Mike, this was your first match in PWS: Apex!
*He teleports Mike to the scene, standing outside an Apex ring. The camera shows Hawk wrestling. It’s clearly stock footage of the match. The camera cuts back to Hawk and the ghost.*
Mike: Who’s that guy?
Richard: That’s you.
Mike: Oh. And who’s that guy across from me?
Richard: That is one of PWS: Apex’s finest developmental talents. And you beat him in 2 minutes and 41 seconds.
Mike: Wow! It really took me that long? Today I’d finish him off in half that time!
Richard: Mike, this is serious.
Mike: Is it? Because you’re in one of MY promos. You know that, right?
Richard: I mean, fair enough, but…
Mike: By the way, who are you?
Richard: I already told you, I am the ghost of Christmas past!
Mike: Long past?
Richard: We did this bit already!
Mike: Oh. Well, whatever the case, you might wanna call yourself something else. Pretty sure Christmas is copyrighted by Coca-Cola.
Richard: Uh…
Mike: What about “Holiday Humphrey”?
Richard: Mike…
Mike: “Merry Mr. Mistoffelees"!
Richard: No!
Mike: ...How about “Gus”?
Richard: Mike, will you please just listen to me!? Your past misdeeds led you down a dark path. You lost match after match after match and that damaged your ego, so you felt you needed to change.
Mike: Yeah, with AMAZING results!
Richard: I’m the one telling the history here! I had to watch a backlog of your matches for this.
Mike: I don’t see how that’s a negative.
Richard: The point is, when you first started in the company, you were seen as nothing but a joke. People didn’t take you seriously because of your name and mannerisms. You felt like a black sheep in a field of cows. But then…
Mike: I’m sorry, I felt like a what!?
Richard: A black sheep in a field of cows. It’s a metaphor, it…
Mike: Pretty sure it’s a simile.
Richard: Fine, it’s a simile, it means… ugh, I don’t have to explain myself to you!
Mike: Good. Don’t.
Richard: You know what? Fuck this. It’s time for the next spirit! One you’ll be a bit more familiar with!
*He claps his hands a few times and vanishes. Hawk’s left in a snowy field.*
Mike: Who was that guy?
*Suddenly, Mike wakes up in his bedroom. He sighs a sigh of relief. Soon after, however, his relief is immediately changed to annoyance as the next spirit manifests in an array of blue smoke. It’s Cleo Phillips! The current world champion looks down at Hawk with a disapproving stare.*
Cleo: Hello, Mike.
Mike: Hey, Cleo, how are ya?
Cleo: I am the ghost of Christmas present.
Mike: Just one?
Cleo: Huh?
Mike: I think you mean “The Ghost of Christmas Presents”.
Cleo: Not present as in gift, Mike, I mean present as in here and now.
Mike: Oh, so you mean there’s one for me here?
*He looks around his bedside for this mysterious Christmas present.*
Cleo: No, Mike, there isn’t a present here. I wanted to show you how your current actions are affecting the PWS landscape, and how you vs. me at Crusade is going to be a great match due to our separate histories, as well as our recent accomplishments.
*Hawk finds a present, pulling it out from beside his bed and showing it off. It’s wrapped immaculately in green paper brandished with candy canes. There’s a red bow on top.*
Mike: Found it!
Cleo: Found what? Who even left that for you?
*He looks at the tag.*
Mike: “To Mike, from Devon.” Oooh, I wonder if he took a break from moping long enough to read my list!
*Cleo snaps her fingers and suddenly they’re teleported to a night Mike’s familiar with. The night of the Riot Battle Royal.*
Mike: Hey! I wasn’t gonna open it, it’s not Christmas yet!
Cleo: Mike… I know this is a hard concept for you to understand, but FOCUS! We can’t be seen or heard by anyone here, so you can’t mess around anyway.
*Mike wanders off somewhere and comes back with an apple. He takes a bite out of it as he looks up at a bewildered Phillips.*
Cleo: …Where did you get that!?
Mike: Some guy.
Cleo: You took that from someone? How? We’re intangible!
Mike: Maybe you’re just a shitty ghost.
Cleo: Mike, focus! This match was ALMOST won by you, but you came up just a little short. Still, this match is a milestone in your career, because it’s really when you were fully established as the man you are today. The person the fans see you as is the one that first came about in this very match. You even eliminated the man who had been the source of so much grief for you for so long!
*A clip is played of Hawk eliminating Sanders.*
Mike: Oh yeah, I did do that, didn’t I? Heh, that's pretty cool… hey, can I have a drink to go with this apple?
*A drink appears in his hand in a styrofoam cup with a lid on it. A straw sticks out the top, and Hawk sucks on it.*
Cleo: If it’ll get you to pay attention, sure.
Mike: It won’t.
Cleo: Alright, look... I was going to explore a bunch of your recent matches and talk about how your shift in character makes you a worthy opponent, but how you’re still not ready, but you’ve taken up all my time with stupid nonsense, so I’m making a decision.
*Mike looks up from his drink long enough to give a sarcastic and unenthusiastic “Oooh” before taking another bite of apple.*
Cleo: If you won’t listen to ME, I’ll find someone you WILL listen to.
*Hawk shrugs.*
Mike: …Okay.
*He’s left in a snowy street again, but this time he doesn’t appear back in his room. Instead he wanders around for a little while, seeing the cobblestone road beneath him, lampposts all around with wreaths hung on them, large pine trees strewn with lights, and a gentle snowfall that made the scene look all the more Christmassy.*
Mike: Wow… I have no idea where I am. Which one of these lampposts is my final ghost?
*He turns around to meet a looming figure in a large black hooded cloak. The cloak blows in the winter wind. The figure crosses its arms, breathing heavily as it overlooks Mike.*
Spirit: Your final spirit, Michael…
*He pulls down his hood, revealing Jonathan Sanders.*
Jonathan: Is ME.
*Hawk, who was too busy sipping his drink at the time to pay attention, looks up at him, startled.*
Mike: Okay, Cleo wasn’t lying. That haircut’s scarier than any ACTUAL ghost you could throw at me.
Jonathan: I am…
*Mike sighs.*
Mike: Let me guess… the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Ejaculate?
Jonathan: The gho- what?
Mike: Y’know… pent-up? On the edge? Ready to splooge?
Jonathan: No, Michael. I am a grim reflection of your future. The specter of a lonesome and horrible demise.
*Hawk starts slowly moving his lips towards his straw, finally starting to suck on his drink.*
Jonathan: You and I will fight forever, Michael. I am your destiny! Your impossible question! And once you are broken, a shell of the man you once were, ruined and destroyed, devoid of any semblance of joy… that is when you will finally realize the true meaning of it all. The fact that everything you have ever accomplished, and everything you are yet to accomplish, will be rendered pointless in the great extinction. Everyone you love, everyone you have EVER loved, and everyone you WILL ever love, will all be DUST in the end. And YOU will be dust as well! And every championship you will ever win, every great moment you will ever have, will all be for NOTHING.
*Hawk continues to sip on his drink, paying Sanders absolutely no mind as The Lost Cause speaks. Hawk continues not to listen even when Sanders is done talking, instead keeping his eyes on his cup. Sanders, in a fit of rage, smacks the cup out of Mike’s hands from the bottom, causing the lid to come off and the liquids inside to come spilling out onto the cobblestone sidewalk below.*
Mike: MY LEMONADE!
Act 2: HIS LEMONADE!
*Mike wakes up, jolting upright in bed, holding his chest in a panicked way. He pants, looking around his bedroom, and sighs in relief when he realizes it was just a dream, seeing, on his bedroom nightstand, a white styrofoam cup full of lemonade.*
Mike: Oh, thank god.
*He picks it up and starts sipping it like he did in the previous segment, but this time with nobody to stop him, it goes on for an entire 60 seconds, before the camera pans out of the window on a diagonal, giving a shot of the beautiful Christmas scenery below.*
Act 3: The (Semi-) Serious Part
*The camera cuts to a snow-covered park at night. There are Christmas lights on all the trees, and every single one of the benches is coated in lights and snow to match. There’s a footpath designated by hundreds of footprints, and just a more unevenly snowy surface in general. Night has just come, so it looks like the lights have probably just turned on. The camera pans around the area, showing people walking around looking at the lights, other people taking pictures, and still others sitting on benches, happily chatting with one another. Meanwhile “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” plays in the background, played by a small band of 4 people who are taking donations. Someone walks over and places money in their tuba case. Yes, tubas have cases… I’m pretty sure. Anyhow, amongst these waves of people is Mike Hawk, dressed in winter attire, including a large green coat, heavy pants, a black beanie with the phrase “Hail to the Chief” on it, boots, a scarf, and even gloves. The whole kit and kaboodle. He looks at the camera, a big grin on his face.*
Mike: I love Christmas.
*He looks around at all the people, and all the lights around them.*
Mike: It’s my favourite time of year. And not just because I have a world title match… though that certainly helps!
*He chuckles a little as he walks down the path.*
Mike: No, Christmas is my favourite time of year because it’s a time for family. For caring. For understanding. For eating too much. And for generosity. And, frankly, at Christmas… it’s okay to be just a little greedy. I mean, it is the season of giving, after all.
*He continues to walk through the park, sitting on a bench with people already packed onto it. He squeezes in, looking at the others with an exasperated expression.*
Mike: Do you mind!?
*The person on the end stands up, and soon Hawk’s the only one left on the bench. He stretches out, looking into the camera, which is now fixed in place, looking at the bench..*
Mike: Speaking of giving… thank you, Cleo, for giving me an opportunity to fight for the PWS: Apex world title. Legitimately, thanks for that. And there’s nobody I’d rather take it from.
*He smirks, giving a small little nod.*
Mike: And much like Return of the Jedi for the Star Wars franchise, that’s where the positives end. Because I’m about to list a bunch of REALLY good reasons why I deserve to be PWS: Apex world champion instead of you, Cleo. ‘Tis the season, as they say.
*With this, he reaches into his coat pocket, taking out a bottle of water, which is somehow not quite frozen, and opens the cap.*
Mike: Let’s pour one out for the poor souls who didn’t even get a shot at the title because Cleo was too selfish not to take it from them.
*He pours the water all over the ground in front of him, before tossing the bottle haphazardly towards, and thoroughly missing, a nearby trash can.*
Mike: Someone’ll get that.
*He shrugs, looking back at the camera.*
Mike: As I was saying… so many people didn’t get a title opportunity. And still haven’t, even after years of being in the company! I mean, sure, to be fair, you were already the #1 contender, but that doesn’t excuse leaving the rest of us in the dust! The belt was immediately vacated, and instead of having a fair, balanced way of deciding who gets it, they might as well have just personally handed you the title! And I’m not saying you don’t deserve the belt, you’ve certainly earned it, but what I’m saying is, I can name at least half a dozen other people in this company who put in the work necessary to win that championship, and yet have never even had a shot at it. Meanwhile, you had already been 2 separate champions in the past year, and STILL got this for free! Why should WE all reset while you get to continue from your last save file? So what I'm saying is, maybe give someone else a chance!
*He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees as he looks directly into the camera.*
Mike: Like, for example, the guy who’s never had a world title in his life. The guy who never had even a SINGLE championship reign before his time in PWS: Apex. The guy who GAVE UP the ONLY title he has EVER had, just for a shot at that, and STILL lost, leaving him with NOTHING to show for his dedication and tenacity!
*He grimaces into the camera.*
Mike: Maybe give that guy a shot at the belt, rather than taking it for your greedy little self, hm? But no… of course not. Why would you? You were handed the opportunity on a silver platter and you seized it. Can’t say I blame you, really. Anyone in your position would do the same thing. But anyone in MY position, the plucky underdog who has to actually put in the work for his title shots, would be a little less enthused. Oh well... it just means I have to work twice, maybe three times as hard, to take that title from you. Not because you don’t deserve nice things… but because I DO.
*He sighs, looking around a little bit more.*
Mike: But that’s not the only reason I'm more suited to be champion, Cleo. Not even close! How about the fact that you haven’t changed a goddamn thing about yourself since 2020?
*He softly nods, adjusting his beanie.*
Mike: Yeah, I said it. And I mean it, too. When I look back on my journey in this company, I see a distinct change. I came in as a plucky young up-and-comer, then I started losing match after match after match. And I realized I needed to change SOMETHING. So I did. I changed. And the process was slow, and it was hard, and I kept losing, because it took a while to even know what was working and what wasn’t. And look at me now. Three world title shots in one year? Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty good. On top of that, my merch has FLOWN off the shelves, people love the schtick I do every week, and it’s all thanks to how I’ve changed and evolved. I’ve put my blood, sweat and tears into this company, I’ve dedicated my LIFE to it, because I’m that passionate about the fans, and about the sport of professional wrestling.
*He leans back on the bench, interlocking his fingers.*
Mike: But as for you, Cleo… the biggest babyface in the company, the one who seized the golden opportunity and became the face of the company, who was handed a title match while the rest of us actually put in the goddamn work, what’s your trajectory been like? Well… I wouldn’t call it a trajectory so much as a… horizontal line. See, one of the big differences between us, Cleo, is that you haven’t changed since Jonathan Sanders threw you off a roof. Ever since Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes stopped being Little Miss Baddy-Two-Shoes, everything about you has stayed completely the same. You come out and say you’re badass because you’re from the Bronx, and you went to prison, and you spout old, hackneyed cliches that were done to death 50 years before you were even born! And don't even get me STARTED on "Set It Off"! But all that, Cleo... that's why we still get a split reaction. That’s why fans cheered me and laughed along with me when I did my little parody of your “I stand with Star” promo and made it about SpongeBob fucking SquarePants.
*Someone walks in front of the camera, slipping on the now-frozen water Mike poured out earlier, and falling flat on their back. Mike stifles a laugh as he looks down at them, his finger unlocking from one another as he continues.*
Mike: It’s because you’re getting stale, Cleo. Like old crusty bread that’s been left out too long. Meanwhile, I’m the fine wine. And I’ve aged to perfection. I’ve evolved like some kind of weird sardonic dinosaur! And I’m better than I’ve ever been. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I learn from my mistakes.
*Someone else trips on the ice, giving a little “Aah!” as they fall. Mike stays stoic as he looks into the camera.*
Mike: Oh, and ABOUT that parody, by the way… I wanted to address that too. Because yes, Cleo, I did it on purpose, but no, it was not EXCLUSIVELY to get in your head. I mean, yes, it was for that too, to prove the otherwise level-headed world champion can be driven to the point of mindless violence, but I did it primarily for a different reason. And that reason is simple. Something that I’ve been dealing with my whole life… you haven’t been taking me seriously.
*He blows some hair out of his eyes as his expression turns sour.*
Mike: Ever since I got here, I’ve been looked at as nothing more than a clown. A joke. Someone to mock and ridicule. “Really? Him?” is a phrase I saw on message boards, heard in WrestleTalk list videos about me, even hearing similar thoughts and opinions from people backstage, from day 1. And honestly? Most of the time, I don’t mind that. I’m flippant, I ignore my opponent, I talk about dicks, everyone has a good time. But when the world champion comes out a few shows before one of the BIGGEST Pay-Per-Views of the year, cuts a massive promo, and gives her #1 contender only a passing mention before going into a rant about a match that’s completely unrelated!? That’s too far.
*Hawk pauses here, the band now going into a different song. This one is “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”. He bops along to the beat somewhat before continuing.*
Mike: I had to get your attention somehow. And at the same time, let you know that for once, this is no laughing matter. I’m dead fucking serious about this. This is the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had. I NEED this. I need this more than I’ve ever needed anything. And not just for me. Sure, it’s great for me. It means more money. More fame. A better life. A more interesting existence. But it’s moreso for everyone else. Everyone who’s ever doubted me. Everyone who’s disregarded me, thought of me as nothing more than the class clown of PWS. Everyone who thinks there’s only one “correct” way to cut a promo. Everyone who thinks I’m not good enough to win the world title, or even be in a world title MATCH…
*He breathes heavily, in and out, in and out, looking down, before looking back up at the camera, leaning forward.*
Mike: This is to prove all of them wrong. To prove to everyone, myself included, that I AM good enough for this. That I’m not just some clown, some afterthought that’ll be lost in the shuffle within 5 years. That this business is better because I’m in it. It’s to prove that I matter, that I actually mean something to this business, to the fans, to my peers, and that everything I’ve ever done up until this point isn’t completely worthless! And maybe… just maybe… with the previous “golden girl” gone… this will prove that I finally have a chance at the greatness I’ve always been denied.
*Mike pauses, thinking hard about what to say next. He looks around at all the wonderful scenery and takes another deep breath, smiling as he exhales.*
Mike: Cleo… I appreciate that you’re so tenacious. I do; that and your admittedly kickass theme song are the two best things you’ve still got going for you. But our match determines the iron man. You have to bring your all, and prove you can endure 60 minutes of some of the most brutal offense you’ve ever received. Because I’m not only not holding back… I’m going all out. I’ll pull out all the stops. There are no DQs. Nothing to stop me from doing WHATEVER IT TAKES to win. And that’s exactly what I’m willing to do. Because it’s what I HAVE to do. For me… and for everyone who thinks I can’t.
*Hawk stands up, stretching, before walking off, the camera turning to follow him down the path, but itself remaining stationary. Hawk swaggers down the path, a pep in his step, as the Christmas lights twinkle in the background, the sweet sounds of holiday-appropriate music coming from the instruments and moving through the crisp night air. With this pleasant imagery fading out, the camera slowly but surely fades to black.*
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