Post by Kai Sanchez on May 15, 2015 6:34:29 GMT -8
So it starts. Golden Gate Wrestling finally gets off the ground and the eagerly anticipated Gold Rush card becomes announced - the main event consists of a Championship match between Drew Stevenson and Frank Washington whilst everyone else is left to break faces in the build up matches. So we're already handing out title shots to shmucks who have done next to nothing to actually warrant them? Ok, fine. Ain't no thang. Forgetting the silver spoon recipients for a moment or so - Gold Rush will also bare witness to the in-ring return of an up and coming London native on the circuit as Kai Sanchez locks up with an unlucky Canadian named Alex Healy. Alex Healy - the 'Canadian Indy Darling'. Yes, he really dubs himself with that moniker.
Word to your mother - drop 'darling', it makes you look like a faggot but that's none of my business.
The last time GGW's resident stripper was pictured inside a wrestling ring was last Autumn in a company named IWC. Before the company owner realized he didn't have a clue how to handle his finances - Kai was riding high as the Overdrive Champion. Consider that slab of gold an investment, a money in the bank kind of deal as it would opportune the recipient a chance to cash in on the top boy/top title of the federation and get a shot at becoming the face of the federation - an opportunity to solidify yourself as the leader of the pack. Just a few weeks prior to IWC closing their doors, Kai seized his chance. Dillon Slade (the shambolic Champion) found himself in the ring labeling everyone else a cunt and fodder for his disposal until Kai ran out to the squared circle and tried throttling Slade. Don't get it twisted, Kai wasn't out there for a heart to heart or to play silly bollocks - this was his time to go. To kill. Unfortunately Dillon Slade knew this wouldn't end well and he not only ran from the ring but also IWC itself. Weeks after, the company died and Kai went back to DJing and stripping. He built quite the beautiful profile up in London. However... he gets a call... GGW. A wrestling fed is opening a door. ermerrgawd. Kai was all over it, with his trusted allies - Camille Westwood and Christie LeFleur - two devilish hellcats that have seen his journey though and will always be by his side.
So settling for the mid-card as we don't have a choice... I'm stuck with Alex Healy. Jesus. It's fine, nope really it is. So picture the scene. We're at the hotel, a fucking lush hotel by the way. Five star and all that shit - man making money and riding high see. I got my girls here, Christy in the bathroom showering up after a night of foul mistreatment and Camille on the bed with me. We're wearing robes because the cameras are on us - aaaaaaand I'm done watching Healy's promo on me. I should have watched that SHIT a couple of days ago but... I got a life away from wrestling so.. soz etc. Camille is seen dividing her attention between a magazine, her phone and my feet... she loves 'em. The nails do the massage a whole lotta justice. As the steam filters through the bathroom and to our bedroom, I break the silence.
"So... I got this guy then... Alex Healy or somethin'?" I ruffle my perfect quiff a little after helping myself to a couple of chewing gums left on the bed. Airwaves Menthol if you're asking. The gurn is on but the set was strong tonight. It all evens out. We got a bunch of different bottles on the silky beige sheets, JD, Goose... Archers? The fuck did that through the hotel room door? Whatever makes these kittens happy. I casually lean over and reach for the remote that turns off the monitor. Healy's last promo was a funny one for all the wrong reasons but that's okay. Education is key in this game. Don't ever try to be a smart mother-fucker when you're still licking piss off the training mat... after how many years now? Anyone can put the world to rights in a speech but when your eyes are empty - so are your words and you tar yourself as a fool. Healy is a fool and he obviously fancies himself as a smart cunt to draw comparisons on me and others.
A dry, empty chuckle escapes my mouth with minimal effort. Sure, I'm in a bad mood this morning and it shows. How can I be, you may ask? I've got two of the finest women in England slobbering all over my cock. I had one one the finest sets in Whisky Mist tonight and I gone done 'bout three grams of the devil's dandruff in the hotel bathroom about an hour ago but nope, today even that won't suffice. We're stripping it back and going back to wrestling. GGW and this punk Healy thinks he's a smart bastard running my name through the mud as if I'm nothing. Running my girls down as if they're just ring-rat fodder. Objects for his disposal.
Bless his cottons. We're Triple Threat for a reason. I'll educate the boy but first I need some knowledge - like who is Healy? What's his story? Why does he think he has this in the bag when it relates to me? Genuinely - I ain't sure.
As I take another sip on my Corona, I look over at Miss Cammy who is seen scrolling through her phone in the hopes of uncovering some dirt on Mr. Healy... naturally there is barely a thing because... this guy is? Yeah, no.. As I adjust the knot on my jet black robe, I dart my glare over at Camille.
"So...? Alex Healy then? Gimme something... anything...?" I ask her with conviction. I genuinely urge for some muck on this schmuck. Cammy adjusts her bra that barely contain her humongous tits inside before looking back at me. Her face says a thousand words, most of them sexual but I can't help being this good looking and she's not getting the 'D' until I'm done with this prick.
"Bae, I tried... I reeeeally fucking tried, okay?! This Alex guy... all I can say is, he's a nobody who couldn't take his eager suckle away from the tit of a dude named Tyson Dux" - I flinch a little as if i'm meant to know this Dux cat. Like, would I be disrespecting the wrestling scene if he hadn't heard of the mighty Tyson Dux? ERMERGAD EWE DUNNO DAT INDIE GUY. SH@ME ON EWE DOH!!!
"Who or WHAT the fuck is a Tyson Dux? I'm hungover and ignorant so indulge my dirty state..." I nudge my girl in the side of her arm as she darts a mucky smirk at me, albeit irritably.
Ever the delectable kitten that she is, Cammy continues her research on Healy and the man that 'made' him... Mr Dux... to her disappointment not a great deal can be brought to the table. Independent wrestlers with no bite. Cool story bro, stay down in the minor leagues before you put me on blast... Camille purses her juicy lips and darts her undivided attention upon my bulge... before sliding them up to my eyes. Biting down on the corner of her bottom lip, my girl would respond.
"So Alex was trained by Tyler Dux... a guy Healy had the 'Match of the year' with for the Triple Crown Championship in Canada or some shit... like whatever" She shrugs her shoulders dismissively as I smirk back at her - those eyes are so piercing and those boobehs just... ugh. "Both of these boys were apparently hot shit in Canada on the Independent scene but it never really amounted to anything. Healy went on to pin some faggot called Phil Atlas and even got his moment of glory when he wrestled... WAIT FOR IT.... X Pac. Like... the ACTUAL X Pac that fucked Chyna and was always the rat of the clique. He also fought Nash..." I scratch the stubble of my chin, this is definitely a revelation. I dunno whether to cringe or have another drink. Fuck it.
I pour another.... Jack Daniels if you wanna know. You so do, you nosey fucker. After Camille's last comment, I down the contents of my glass and wipe my mouth with a sneer. It's getting a little hot in here so I remove my robe and toss it aside.
"X Pac you say? Nash you say? Impressed you say? Fuck nah "Camille and I would burst out with laughter because... why brag about that 'accolade' like that... seriously why doe? Beating Nash or Pac makes you hot shit? Since when? Continuing my sneer with Cammy - I continue "It's funny how this drivel of the dregs didn't mention the outcome of either match. Probably because Healy lost to the most unworthy clique members ever, and yeah that includes Chyna. I'd keep it to myself too. What really winds me up is how this prick finds it appropriate to draw comparisons of my character to the likes of Jamie Static and Matthew Crosslin..." I scratch my neck before continuing my point" Now you've been in the game a lot longer than I have booboo... enlighten me who these two are...?"
With a devilish smirk upon her beautiful face I watch as Cammy rolls onto her back, still maintaining eye contact with me. "Matthew Crosslin... there's a name I haven't heard for a while. The last time I saw that pretty boy he was having his ass annihilated by Jade Jiles in p:Wi. Like literally she slaughtered him and slammed him down for the one, two three before dancing over his pathetic carcass. Jamie Static... he's the bisexual wrestler that's married to Ginny Genocide right?" She asks me like I'm meant to know or something? I shrug before nodding back at my girl "Neither of them had a career and it's only his jobber wife keeping his joke-shop name alive on the scene... totes awkward. Ginny needs a decent boob job by the way. Quote. Unquote. You're welcome bae" Cammy winks towards the camera.
"The Lulz... all of the Lulz. Healy seriously compared me to those two? What a melt" I look towards the camera. "Look Healy, I don't know you son, I was actually prepared to take it easy on you as we're both not 'tough enough' just yet,. That was your first mistake, don't you ever tar me with your pansy brush mate. Sure, I ain't established but just last Summer I walked into my first company and run right through them all. All it took was three months and I had it all. The main belt. The Overdrive Championship in IWC, then I made sure my girls had the gold they craved" I referenced the Tag Team Championships of IWC as I looked over at Camille who met my gaze with a succulent pout. "My girls destroyed the company owner and some rat named Dakota Cuntress to score their belts. Anything we wanted, we took by force.Not because we felt like it, because we COULD" I smirk a little thinking back to IWC "... I ran the 'top boy' Dillon Slade out of the company and I plan to do the same thing here Healy"
"You've got heart son, can't nobody discredit your drive. You've got it. You're the Canadian darling who still hasn't made a name for himself just yet but at Gold Rush - I'll put you on the map fella. Believe me, I will. This Englishman will rip you from limb to limb and no - you ain't gotta worry about my bitches outside of the ring, I mean - they're there but I recon they'll play nice at Gold Rush... ain't that right Cam?" I question my seductress as she sucks her finger suggestively.
"I can't speak for Christy but I'll play nice... I promise I'll behave myself..." She responds with her fingers crossed right before my eyes. I should be mad but how could you ever be angry at something so beautiful? Especially when she takes it up the ass. With a slight shake of the head I address the camera.
"Healy... 'darling'. I ain't scared of you. I know you got a whole bunch of skills but know this - I'm better. Like fo' real. You're my stepping stone in GGW and you can name drop until your face turns blue but just remember - these names won't save you. They won't be at your beck and call when you're in the ring with me at Gold Rush. You are going to lose and it will be painful. I'm not a nasty bugger but I'm telling it to you like it is... you against me - you fail. If you're lucky, there will be no stretcher. I'm fucked off enough that Christy's trainer [Drew] and Frankie automatically get thrown into a Championship match when they've done sweet fuck all to earn it. And then you've got that mouthy gob-shite Arab 'No-Time' squabbling with the biggest joke on the roster - Ward. Then there's Silas - that pretty boy that scored a pin in LEGACY and won't shut the fuck up about it. So many melts on the radar - but at Gold Rush I'll settle for you. Just promise me Alex, you'll at least try and put up a fight. I'd hate to make you more of a laughing stock on the circuit than you already are. Come at me bitch, I got ya"
I wink at the camera as movement to my left ensues - oh it's Christy. The luscious blonde walks into the scene, dripping wet from the shower and only a purple towel covering her modesty. As the succulent minx struts towards the end of the bed, she drops the towel without warning as the scene fades to black.
