Post by TactilizingOne on Aug 14, 2022 22:58:17 GMT -5
EXP 29 was a tough show to be at, even tougher than I had realized it would be, and it had nothing to do with the vapid ‘cheese heads’ heckling the Game Changers in the ring and at the airport. After going over strategy with ISAAC and Drake in our dressing room, I had let them know I would meet them at Gorilla.
As I began putting on my accessory ring gear and made final mental preparations, there was a knock on the door was followed by a sliver of light as it cracked open. I was broken out of my reflection and looked up, a sneer on my face. Somewhere in my mind, the image of Cesar Salvador Ramon involuntarily forced its way in, but the idea of his being on the other side of the door was soon dispelled by the site of some production stooge, wearing a black pants and matching polo, with the Level Up logo on a left breast pocket. Upon seeing me, the stooge flinched and quickly muttered, “Mr. Tact… Trent wanted me to let you know—”
“Trent can go suck his mother’s tit!” I growled as I stood.
“S-sir, I was t-told to let you know he’d like you at the stage in five minutes,” the Stooge stammered as quickly as possible before he scurried away.
“Not even the decency to close the door,” I groused and looked down at the sofa I had been sitting on. I took the Power title in hand along with a water bottle and swung the door open. I paused at the doorway, peered out to make sure no one was about to take my head off with a forklift; a repeat of that incident from Super Adventure Island was not on my wishlist. Seeing a quiet and empty hallway, I shut the door behind me, slung the Power title over my shoulder, and unscreewed the cap of the water bottle, lathering some liquid over my hair before drinking the rest and tossing the bottle… wherever, out of sight.
As I continued on towards my partners, I recalled earlier in the night when EAB had experienced another setback at the hands of the enigmatic Stephen Stratford. Reclaiming his stride was something Mister Blizzard needed to achieve, and the Game Changers were certainly supportive of that. At his peak, he was nigh unstoppable. The start of my Level Up tenure was an example of how we all lose our footing at times and it called for a soft reset. Mister Blizzard would be alright, just as I was, and ISAAC and Drake were, after they dispatched of ‘The Wizard’ James Wilcox. However, Trent was nothing if not a master of fuckery in the intentions of others. Word was he was as stubborn and unyielding to achieve his own will as anyone in professional wrestling. Combine that with the power he possessed, and it presented an issue that would need to be addressed sooner than later. I wasn’t about to allow one man to disrupt the Game Changers continued progress, even if he did run this place.
I passed by the locker room of the general roster, those directionless or largely unable to fit in with others and play nice, as we in the Game Changers had band together and done, earning a dressing room of our own. Who cares if the remainders agreed that our presence in this locker room wasn’t wanted? The feeling was mutual anyway. I didn’t need to vomit looking over and seeing the likes of Robert McAlroy and Eli Goode anywhere in my vicinity. You know who is still in there, though, and preparing for their match? That would be the newest member of the Game Changers – no matter how we tried to disguise it – Ziggy Morgan. We decided part of his ‘initiation’ would be a period of being barred from our exclusive dressing room. The No-Tech Cowboy was facing none other than Sebastian Everett-Bryce, a man I had come to realize was as double-edged as any sword, and to my chagrin, sharp with the skill he wielded it. SEB – no longer the Third, having purged his familial numeral due to whatever aristocratic bullshit the haughty tool ‘suffered’ from – had been one of the mass of new blood to Level Up that arrived earlier in the year. There was no way around the fact he was a threat, and on this night, that threat was on our doorstep, engaging the closest thing the Game Changers had to a doorman. It would be a competitive match, one that I’d have my eyes on.
For my part, I had to process what had occurred in the past month. One of the steps was to defend this Power title on my shoulder, and do it without question as to how dominant a champion I had been to date. However, the other part of it all was outside the ring, in my own abode. The waters had only gotten choppier with Cindy having taken me to the floor, figuratively; and taken our living room cocktail table to its proverbial knees. We had to make amends, and that wouldn’t happen until I was no longer Power Champion. I was between a rock and a hard place, needing the Power title as a means to the end that was the Triforce Championship, then Final Fantasy. It would be the biggest gauntlet I could ever face in my career to reach a World Champion. I’m sure Duncan Shepard would have it no other way, too, which made this journey all the more imperative.
I turned a corner that led to the stage, and find a leftover Super Adventure Island poster on a supply case, surely marked for giveaway, but really deserving incineration. I stopped for a moment and set down the Power title on the case in order to seize the poster in my hands. It was one that featured the Final Boss Championship contenders, including the aforementioned champion, Duncan Shepard. I still can’t believe Trent had the effrontery to make that a Skeleton Key match. My eyes drift to one of the other contenders, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise as my blood boils.
“Mr. Tact, did you get the message from—”
“Shut your mouth, stooge!” I scowled at yet another assistant running up to me. “Where is this going?” I motion to the poster.
“I’m not exactly sure…” Stooge #2 replied, and I shook my head.
“Useless,” I spat, both in reference to Stooge 2 and the poster. I tore it in half, crumpled it up, and bounced it off his head as I collected the Power Championship and continue on, fastening the title around my waist.
Sloane Taylor. The roiling, unresolved friction with Cindy had taken a toll, and it had allowed Sloane to slip through my hands, which were meant to send a message to both she and that uppity meatsack, Sebastian: Don’t try to bully in on Game Changers turf. Instead, she netted herself a victory over me, personally! There’s not a doubt in my mind Trent was giddy at that, and now booked Sloane in a Power Championship number one contenders’ match. Not to mention, Sebastian is now looking to do the same against Ziggy. Another pair that could become problematic, if allowed to run roughshod.
As the steps to the entrance came into view, and I spotted ISAAC and Drake, I knew there was still plenty of heavy lifting to do. However, the Game Changers weren’t above putting in the work to make our bread. It was how we liked it, especially when you consider we have our proprietary recipe for success.
No one does it like the Game Changers, and in Level Up, no one can stand up to us when we’re locked in. This multiplayer match? I won’t allow myself to be wavered from my purpose by other fronts that weigh in shuffle on my mind.
My hands remain steady, readied with malice for the undeserving and the opportunistic. The Game Changers overarching dominance shall continue, and the cost will be assessed and processed.
This I vow.
“Allow me to take you on a little journey through professional wrestling.”
I glare through the lens of the drone cam, which is hovering feet in front of me and a touch above, preventing nosey passersby to interfere with the shot; and simultaneously catching a fine angle of myself. The Power Championship is snug around my waist, the sun glinting off of its polished face. Behind me, Manhattan skyline as I film on one of the observation decks of this building. I’m ready to commence.
“You may be surprised to know it’s not only my journey, but the journeys of those who wish to snuff out my purpose, my very presence in this industry. Why? They may sell you all a bill of goods that I’m full of it, or my means are nefarious in achieving undeserving and unreasonable ends. They could try to pass themselves off as fine, upstanding members of every roster they inhabit, while I’m some unreputable, despicable being. Now, if you ask me for the Tact Facts of it all? Mainly, it’s due to their own lack of belief in themselves to exist with someone of my legitimate stature and intentions. They won’t dare risk the endangerment of their flavor of the month fascinations, or goals that are somehow more credible because they crafted an image of this pairing that no fan seems to want to disbelieve. The Level Updogs are no different, allowing these two to place rose-colored glasses and shower them with sickly sweet sentiments to ensnare hearts. But when they are in the face of those with the sheer force of will to move mountains and surpass them, they try to discredit and deflect. Well, I’ve had quite enough of it, and fortunately for me, Mister Blizzard… and Ziggy… the Game Changers live to correct the expectations of the uninformed.”
“Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Sloane Taylor. Since I’ve had a match with Sloane recently, allow me to indulge a few comments towards our resident jolly ole pasty Brit – as opposed to our selfish, conceited, sarcastic, sometimes borderline Ambien alternative of a Brit, ‘Commando’ Dunk-On Schlepard. He’ll get his humble dose another day, of course, but as the phrase goes– today is not that day. I will give Dunk-On one nod, and that’s for his entrance to Level Up Wrestling. The man came in without much fanfare, mainly due to his broke ass needing a loan from The Developer, whose name I don’t feel like mentioning this moment, so the Developer it is. In as stark a contrast as possible, Sebastian, you not only entered in the closing segment of an EXP show, but you did it in the position I always, rightfully peg you in: On the coattails of your better Bully half, Sloane. Tell me it’s because you’re a gentleman and a man who doesn’t mind ceding the spotlight to his partner. Go ahead, make the sensible of us all nauseated by this image of the adorable power couple. Talk about an oxymoron.”
“Tact Fact of the matter is, Sebastian? You’ve got a bigger ego than everyone claims I do -- wrongfully. For one thing, our first match with one another is not this one, is it? We’ve met in Pro Wrestling Valor a handful of times. The first of which being a multiplayer match, not entirely different from this one, minus the trios. After the match, we faced each other one-on-one and you had the insolence to fabricate holding victory over myself, directly when I wasn’t involved in the decision. I’d imagine you may try and spread that bit of misinformation to the Level Updogs, who are thirsty for your little romance with Sloane over there. Your ego simply couldn’t resist the temptation of claiming a victory over me, and the bald clarity of that was only dwarfed by how you like to discredit the victory I do hold over you in that solo match. Again, the swell on that head of yours is going to cause every hair follicle you have to blow right off.”
“You’re a man who’s bought into his own hype, Sebastian. It’s a credit that you’re able to hold such an overinflated opinion of yourself, and simultaneously manage to overcome it with your actual wrestling ability. No one wants to believe me when I say that? Guess what, this guy thinks he’s a world beater and he’s been in the ring for less than two years, or thereabouts. Anything less than five, don’t tell me you got your wings yet. You’re still a punk with some bills to throw around, and you clearly have a personality that fits the caricature of American excess and conceit. It’s funny, I bet you were looking at the United States of America when you were younger, and still spoiled. I bet you looked at what we have here, and the things we do here for recreaction, and you quietly belittled it, all the while flashing Kid Sebastian’s shiny grin to cover your bourgeoning truer nature. Now, you’re indulging in the ‘American Way,’ and I’m sure you justify it by telling yourself it was just the wit of a kid, which happens to remain the level of your grasp on American English, not that stodgy Bri-tish garbage. Horrible accents, too.”
“But hey, you’ve won championships and curried the nationwide favor of fans. With your ‘wit’ and ability in the ring, I’d say that combination will give you a decided advantage over a lot of the competition. Of course, you think I’m going to tell you that, ‘The Game Changers are the exception. We aren’t the everyday wrestling group because we aren’t your average individual wrestlers.’ Well…“
I give a minor shrug of the shoulders.
“If you’re already thinking it, and the boorish Level Updogs are thinking it… why should I stop you? In fact, you’ll find that we’ve already meaningfully raised the standard of this entire company, through holding titles and making our impact felt at all levels. When a group came together, sheerly out of spite for our accomplishments, we went to war with them. We stepped into War Games, having the graciousness and resolve in our purpose to accept the match, and we took down those ragtag misfits. That victory was so foundation moving, as it affirmed our place at the top ranks of Level Up, that the Developer himself, the man who had yet to make himself known to anyone? He decided it wouldn’t do any longer to hide behind smoke machines and cheap tapestry. Trent Steel made his presence known as the Owner of Level Up ONLY after we emerged victorious in War Games. Try and discredit our achievements and my achievements as Power Champion, all you want, Sebastian. You can’t take away or labors in the ring, and our track record. The worst news of it for you? You’re next on our plate. While we understand that your record here doesn’t reflect the full extent of your potential, Sebastian, we also refuse to be blown away by the proper gentleman that you like to fancy yourself. We don’t stan you, we don’t seek you out for a match like JC– no. The Game Changers see the British Bullshitter before us, and we aren’t going to permit your glorious entrance and simmering streaks to leave brown stains on the progress we’ve delivered to this company. We’re going to tourniquet this young blood, and his partners, too.”
“Oh, Sloane. I wouldn’t forget about you, of course, the next in line to find out what my Power division brings to the match. Hint: Chairs aren’t the goddamn half of it! While Sebastian brings that polished bullshit, you seem to bring a bit of a different angle. You portray yourself as this fun woman with great resolve and determination. You’ve won the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship, among others, and you love to extoll the advantage you and Sebastian hold over teams because you won, ‘Even when we weren’t together.’ Look out for that amazing quality, a team that is proud of winning and not fucking each other like common horny teenagers. If I could change the channel off your promos, believe me, I would in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, I’m more serious about winning than to allow my temptations to overcome my rationale. In more ways than one, I’ve learned lately that I’m able to see what needs to be done, and make painful decisions in order to maintain my position on the tactful path to ultimate successes. This is no different, and believe me, I’ll have our previous match well in mind. You may think I despise you, and that’s largely correct, Sloane. Still, it’s a credit to myself that I’m capable of identifying threats on sight, and like Sebastian and Catalina, you’re precisely that. I’ll also remind you of the obvious condition I was in during our prior match. I had just been given the WildKat special by that unscrupulous butcher, Kat Jones, at Super Adventure Island. That’s the kind of match someone would get time off from, but our deranged owner of the company decided, ‘Nah’ for giving me time off. So I endured, and while you gained a duke, it will ultimately be nothing but a salve. A salve for the defeat I deal you at Combat Evolved. A salve for the defeat your team is going to suffer from at EXP 30. It’ll be a landmark show, and with it this is a landmark match. Eyeballs will be on the screen, and you’ll have plenty of tweeting to do afterwards, to explain away the loss along with Sebastian and Catalina. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of Curious Cat questions to keep it out of mind, and tweets to deflect the disparagement you should be feeling. You and Sebastian should both take this as a preview: For your shot at the Power Championship, and for every time Sebastian thinks CCPE is anything to sniff at compared with the Game Changers. We’re not a bunch of testosterone oozing out of orifices in all directions. We’re a curated collection of honed talent, and we’re going to squeeze the bullshit right out of you and onto all the Level Updogs.”
“However, there is one hope. You have one hope to bring us down at EXP 30, and it’s Catalina Cortes. This woman isn’t just confident, she’s one beast of a bitch. Sloane is a Bully and does underhanded and despicable acts that she then finds herself disavowed of, for no valid reason by the way. But Catalina, you don’t try to hide who you are. We have to appreciate that you are someone who is comfortable in their skin. You don’t take bullshit, which will make it a horror to team with your partners this week. You’ve got a fire that I can understand and acknowledge. It’s the mark of a truly dominant champion. I know because I’ve had it for decades. You need it to be able to return to this sport, and from what I heard you survived in Carnage, it’s at once surprising and expected you’d be back. Surprising because I don’t see a whole lot of people who come back after going through a particularly grueling run with a World Championship, and necessarily be the same as they were. It seems you keep your touch. But it’s expected you’d find your way to Level Up. You know where the nexus of your desires lies. You see the potential this place has, and you also have that fire to see the view from the top again. I get it, and I like it. Here’s the problem, Cat… you’re playing for the wrong team. EXP 30, you’re not in the lane of Tact, and while I don’t hate to break it to you, I have to say I’m a tad melancholy we need to run through the Carnage World Champion so soon. But as I said, it’s what’s necessary for us to stay on the path we have earned our way on. We’ve been a team that knows how to win big matches, and as the go-home to Combat Evolved, facing my own challenger for my Power Championship? Yeah, this will mean something, even without it being a landmark 30th show. So, Catalina… another Cat to oppose me… you’re going to learn the same lesson as the other Kat did.”
We zoom out to find the skyline is of New York City, and we are on the spire of the Empire State Building.
“Game Changers don’t blink at the challenge. We rise up, and we smash down upon you. This is the only Empire that will dominate and stand atop Level Up. All others will look up in adoration.”
As I began putting on my accessory ring gear and made final mental preparations, there was a knock on the door was followed by a sliver of light as it cracked open. I was broken out of my reflection and looked up, a sneer on my face. Somewhere in my mind, the image of Cesar Salvador Ramon involuntarily forced its way in, but the idea of his being on the other side of the door was soon dispelled by the site of some production stooge, wearing a black pants and matching polo, with the Level Up logo on a left breast pocket. Upon seeing me, the stooge flinched and quickly muttered, “Mr. Tact… Trent wanted me to let you know—”
“Trent can go suck his mother’s tit!” I growled as I stood.
“S-sir, I was t-told to let you know he’d like you at the stage in five minutes,” the Stooge stammered as quickly as possible before he scurried away.
“Not even the decency to close the door,” I groused and looked down at the sofa I had been sitting on. I took the Power title in hand along with a water bottle and swung the door open. I paused at the doorway, peered out to make sure no one was about to take my head off with a forklift; a repeat of that incident from Super Adventure Island was not on my wishlist. Seeing a quiet and empty hallway, I shut the door behind me, slung the Power title over my shoulder, and unscreewed the cap of the water bottle, lathering some liquid over my hair before drinking the rest and tossing the bottle… wherever, out of sight.
As I continued on towards my partners, I recalled earlier in the night when EAB had experienced another setback at the hands of the enigmatic Stephen Stratford. Reclaiming his stride was something Mister Blizzard needed to achieve, and the Game Changers were certainly supportive of that. At his peak, he was nigh unstoppable. The start of my Level Up tenure was an example of how we all lose our footing at times and it called for a soft reset. Mister Blizzard would be alright, just as I was, and ISAAC and Drake were, after they dispatched of ‘The Wizard’ James Wilcox. However, Trent was nothing if not a master of fuckery in the intentions of others. Word was he was as stubborn and unyielding to achieve his own will as anyone in professional wrestling. Combine that with the power he possessed, and it presented an issue that would need to be addressed sooner than later. I wasn’t about to allow one man to disrupt the Game Changers continued progress, even if he did run this place.
I passed by the locker room of the general roster, those directionless or largely unable to fit in with others and play nice, as we in the Game Changers had band together and done, earning a dressing room of our own. Who cares if the remainders agreed that our presence in this locker room wasn’t wanted? The feeling was mutual anyway. I didn’t need to vomit looking over and seeing the likes of Robert McAlroy and Eli Goode anywhere in my vicinity. You know who is still in there, though, and preparing for their match? That would be the newest member of the Game Changers – no matter how we tried to disguise it – Ziggy Morgan. We decided part of his ‘initiation’ would be a period of being barred from our exclusive dressing room. The No-Tech Cowboy was facing none other than Sebastian Everett-Bryce, a man I had come to realize was as double-edged as any sword, and to my chagrin, sharp with the skill he wielded it. SEB – no longer the Third, having purged his familial numeral due to whatever aristocratic bullshit the haughty tool ‘suffered’ from – had been one of the mass of new blood to Level Up that arrived earlier in the year. There was no way around the fact he was a threat, and on this night, that threat was on our doorstep, engaging the closest thing the Game Changers had to a doorman. It would be a competitive match, one that I’d have my eyes on.
For my part, I had to process what had occurred in the past month. One of the steps was to defend this Power title on my shoulder, and do it without question as to how dominant a champion I had been to date. However, the other part of it all was outside the ring, in my own abode. The waters had only gotten choppier with Cindy having taken me to the floor, figuratively; and taken our living room cocktail table to its proverbial knees. We had to make amends, and that wouldn’t happen until I was no longer Power Champion. I was between a rock and a hard place, needing the Power title as a means to the end that was the Triforce Championship, then Final Fantasy. It would be the biggest gauntlet I could ever face in my career to reach a World Champion. I’m sure Duncan Shepard would have it no other way, too, which made this journey all the more imperative.
I turned a corner that led to the stage, and find a leftover Super Adventure Island poster on a supply case, surely marked for giveaway, but really deserving incineration. I stopped for a moment and set down the Power title on the case in order to seize the poster in my hands. It was one that featured the Final Boss Championship contenders, including the aforementioned champion, Duncan Shepard. I still can’t believe Trent had the effrontery to make that a Skeleton Key match. My eyes drift to one of the other contenders, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise as my blood boils.
“Mr. Tact, did you get the message from—”
“Shut your mouth, stooge!” I scowled at yet another assistant running up to me. “Where is this going?” I motion to the poster.
“I’m not exactly sure…” Stooge #2 replied, and I shook my head.
“Useless,” I spat, both in reference to Stooge 2 and the poster. I tore it in half, crumpled it up, and bounced it off his head as I collected the Power Championship and continue on, fastening the title around my waist.
Sloane Taylor. The roiling, unresolved friction with Cindy had taken a toll, and it had allowed Sloane to slip through my hands, which were meant to send a message to both she and that uppity meatsack, Sebastian: Don’t try to bully in on Game Changers turf. Instead, she netted herself a victory over me, personally! There’s not a doubt in my mind Trent was giddy at that, and now booked Sloane in a Power Championship number one contenders’ match. Not to mention, Sebastian is now looking to do the same against Ziggy. Another pair that could become problematic, if allowed to run roughshod.
As the steps to the entrance came into view, and I spotted ISAAC and Drake, I knew there was still plenty of heavy lifting to do. However, the Game Changers weren’t above putting in the work to make our bread. It was how we liked it, especially when you consider we have our proprietary recipe for success.
No one does it like the Game Changers, and in Level Up, no one can stand up to us when we’re locked in. This multiplayer match? I won’t allow myself to be wavered from my purpose by other fronts that weigh in shuffle on my mind.
My hands remain steady, readied with malice for the undeserving and the opportunistic. The Game Changers overarching dominance shall continue, and the cost will be assessed and processed.
This I vow.
“Allow me to take you on a little journey through professional wrestling.”
I glare through the lens of the drone cam, which is hovering feet in front of me and a touch above, preventing nosey passersby to interfere with the shot; and simultaneously catching a fine angle of myself. The Power Championship is snug around my waist, the sun glinting off of its polished face. Behind me, Manhattan skyline as I film on one of the observation decks of this building. I’m ready to commence.
“You may be surprised to know it’s not only my journey, but the journeys of those who wish to snuff out my purpose, my very presence in this industry. Why? They may sell you all a bill of goods that I’m full of it, or my means are nefarious in achieving undeserving and unreasonable ends. They could try to pass themselves off as fine, upstanding members of every roster they inhabit, while I’m some unreputable, despicable being. Now, if you ask me for the Tact Facts of it all? Mainly, it’s due to their own lack of belief in themselves to exist with someone of my legitimate stature and intentions. They won’t dare risk the endangerment of their flavor of the month fascinations, or goals that are somehow more credible because they crafted an image of this pairing that no fan seems to want to disbelieve. The Level Updogs are no different, allowing these two to place rose-colored glasses and shower them with sickly sweet sentiments to ensnare hearts. But when they are in the face of those with the sheer force of will to move mountains and surpass them, they try to discredit and deflect. Well, I’ve had quite enough of it, and fortunately for me, Mister Blizzard… and Ziggy… the Game Changers live to correct the expectations of the uninformed.”
“Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Sloane Taylor. Since I’ve had a match with Sloane recently, allow me to indulge a few comments towards our resident jolly ole pasty Brit – as opposed to our selfish, conceited, sarcastic, sometimes borderline Ambien alternative of a Brit, ‘Commando’ Dunk-On Schlepard. He’ll get his humble dose another day, of course, but as the phrase goes– today is not that day. I will give Dunk-On one nod, and that’s for his entrance to Level Up Wrestling. The man came in without much fanfare, mainly due to his broke ass needing a loan from The Developer, whose name I don’t feel like mentioning this moment, so the Developer it is. In as stark a contrast as possible, Sebastian, you not only entered in the closing segment of an EXP show, but you did it in the position I always, rightfully peg you in: On the coattails of your better Bully half, Sloane. Tell me it’s because you’re a gentleman and a man who doesn’t mind ceding the spotlight to his partner. Go ahead, make the sensible of us all nauseated by this image of the adorable power couple. Talk about an oxymoron.”
“Tact Fact of the matter is, Sebastian? You’ve got a bigger ego than everyone claims I do -- wrongfully. For one thing, our first match with one another is not this one, is it? We’ve met in Pro Wrestling Valor a handful of times. The first of which being a multiplayer match, not entirely different from this one, minus the trios. After the match, we faced each other one-on-one and you had the insolence to fabricate holding victory over myself, directly when I wasn’t involved in the decision. I’d imagine you may try and spread that bit of misinformation to the Level Updogs, who are thirsty for your little romance with Sloane over there. Your ego simply couldn’t resist the temptation of claiming a victory over me, and the bald clarity of that was only dwarfed by how you like to discredit the victory I do hold over you in that solo match. Again, the swell on that head of yours is going to cause every hair follicle you have to blow right off.”
“You’re a man who’s bought into his own hype, Sebastian. It’s a credit that you’re able to hold such an overinflated opinion of yourself, and simultaneously manage to overcome it with your actual wrestling ability. No one wants to believe me when I say that? Guess what, this guy thinks he’s a world beater and he’s been in the ring for less than two years, or thereabouts. Anything less than five, don’t tell me you got your wings yet. You’re still a punk with some bills to throw around, and you clearly have a personality that fits the caricature of American excess and conceit. It’s funny, I bet you were looking at the United States of America when you were younger, and still spoiled. I bet you looked at what we have here, and the things we do here for recreaction, and you quietly belittled it, all the while flashing Kid Sebastian’s shiny grin to cover your bourgeoning truer nature. Now, you’re indulging in the ‘American Way,’ and I’m sure you justify it by telling yourself it was just the wit of a kid, which happens to remain the level of your grasp on American English, not that stodgy Bri-tish garbage. Horrible accents, too.”
“But hey, you’ve won championships and curried the nationwide favor of fans. With your ‘wit’ and ability in the ring, I’d say that combination will give you a decided advantage over a lot of the competition. Of course, you think I’m going to tell you that, ‘The Game Changers are the exception. We aren’t the everyday wrestling group because we aren’t your average individual wrestlers.’ Well…“
I give a minor shrug of the shoulders.
“If you’re already thinking it, and the boorish Level Updogs are thinking it… why should I stop you? In fact, you’ll find that we’ve already meaningfully raised the standard of this entire company, through holding titles and making our impact felt at all levels. When a group came together, sheerly out of spite for our accomplishments, we went to war with them. We stepped into War Games, having the graciousness and resolve in our purpose to accept the match, and we took down those ragtag misfits. That victory was so foundation moving, as it affirmed our place at the top ranks of Level Up, that the Developer himself, the man who had yet to make himself known to anyone? He decided it wouldn’t do any longer to hide behind smoke machines and cheap tapestry. Trent Steel made his presence known as the Owner of Level Up ONLY after we emerged victorious in War Games. Try and discredit our achievements and my achievements as Power Champion, all you want, Sebastian. You can’t take away or labors in the ring, and our track record. The worst news of it for you? You’re next on our plate. While we understand that your record here doesn’t reflect the full extent of your potential, Sebastian, we also refuse to be blown away by the proper gentleman that you like to fancy yourself. We don’t stan you, we don’t seek you out for a match like JC– no. The Game Changers see the British Bullshitter before us, and we aren’t going to permit your glorious entrance and simmering streaks to leave brown stains on the progress we’ve delivered to this company. We’re going to tourniquet this young blood, and his partners, too.”
“Oh, Sloane. I wouldn’t forget about you, of course, the next in line to find out what my Power division brings to the match. Hint: Chairs aren’t the goddamn half of it! While Sebastian brings that polished bullshit, you seem to bring a bit of a different angle. You portray yourself as this fun woman with great resolve and determination. You’ve won the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship, among others, and you love to extoll the advantage you and Sebastian hold over teams because you won, ‘Even when we weren’t together.’ Look out for that amazing quality, a team that is proud of winning and not fucking each other like common horny teenagers. If I could change the channel off your promos, believe me, I would in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, I’m more serious about winning than to allow my temptations to overcome my rationale. In more ways than one, I’ve learned lately that I’m able to see what needs to be done, and make painful decisions in order to maintain my position on the tactful path to ultimate successes. This is no different, and believe me, I’ll have our previous match well in mind. You may think I despise you, and that’s largely correct, Sloane. Still, it’s a credit to myself that I’m capable of identifying threats on sight, and like Sebastian and Catalina, you’re precisely that. I’ll also remind you of the obvious condition I was in during our prior match. I had just been given the WildKat special by that unscrupulous butcher, Kat Jones, at Super Adventure Island. That’s the kind of match someone would get time off from, but our deranged owner of the company decided, ‘Nah’ for giving me time off. So I endured, and while you gained a duke, it will ultimately be nothing but a salve. A salve for the defeat I deal you at Combat Evolved. A salve for the defeat your team is going to suffer from at EXP 30. It’ll be a landmark show, and with it this is a landmark match. Eyeballs will be on the screen, and you’ll have plenty of tweeting to do afterwards, to explain away the loss along with Sebastian and Catalina. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of Curious Cat questions to keep it out of mind, and tweets to deflect the disparagement you should be feeling. You and Sebastian should both take this as a preview: For your shot at the Power Championship, and for every time Sebastian thinks CCPE is anything to sniff at compared with the Game Changers. We’re not a bunch of testosterone oozing out of orifices in all directions. We’re a curated collection of honed talent, and we’re going to squeeze the bullshit right out of you and onto all the Level Updogs.”
“However, there is one hope. You have one hope to bring us down at EXP 30, and it’s Catalina Cortes. This woman isn’t just confident, she’s one beast of a bitch. Sloane is a Bully and does underhanded and despicable acts that she then finds herself disavowed of, for no valid reason by the way. But Catalina, you don’t try to hide who you are. We have to appreciate that you are someone who is comfortable in their skin. You don’t take bullshit, which will make it a horror to team with your partners this week. You’ve got a fire that I can understand and acknowledge. It’s the mark of a truly dominant champion. I know because I’ve had it for decades. You need it to be able to return to this sport, and from what I heard you survived in Carnage, it’s at once surprising and expected you’d be back. Surprising because I don’t see a whole lot of people who come back after going through a particularly grueling run with a World Championship, and necessarily be the same as they were. It seems you keep your touch. But it’s expected you’d find your way to Level Up. You know where the nexus of your desires lies. You see the potential this place has, and you also have that fire to see the view from the top again. I get it, and I like it. Here’s the problem, Cat… you’re playing for the wrong team. EXP 30, you’re not in the lane of Tact, and while I don’t hate to break it to you, I have to say I’m a tad melancholy we need to run through the Carnage World Champion so soon. But as I said, it’s what’s necessary for us to stay on the path we have earned our way on. We’ve been a team that knows how to win big matches, and as the go-home to Combat Evolved, facing my own challenger for my Power Championship? Yeah, this will mean something, even without it being a landmark 30th show. So, Catalina… another Cat to oppose me… you’re going to learn the same lesson as the other Kat did.”
We zoom out to find the skyline is of New York City, and we are on the spire of the Empire State Building.
“Game Changers don’t blink at the challenge. We rise up, and we smash down upon you. This is the only Empire that will dominate and stand atop Level Up. All others will look up in adoration.”
FADE OUT
