Post by Frank Venable on Apr 26, 2020 13:04:45 GMT -5
FPV RP #7 - SO YOU HAVE CHOSEN DEATH
I just wanted to be happy for just one moment.
Just. One. Moment.
With all the shit going on in my personal life, from losing Ramon in perhaps the messiest breakup imaginable, to losing my AW World Title just one week after winning it (again), I figured that going out to my people, the great people of Louisiana, would helped set me to ease. I was there to cheer on my tag team partner Corey Black as he participated in the main event of the night, and to take in the love of the crowd. That's all I was there for. No more, no less.
That was obviously too much to ask for.
Jayson Price and Seth Lerch. Two men I have VERY complicated feelings about. To see Seth alone in the ring with me was surreal to the point that I was questioning if I was seeing the real former owner of the WCF there in front of me. I knew for sure it was him when he attacked me with my own belt. To see Price afterwards was just the icing on the weird cake. I didn't pay full attention to everything they said, so by the time I was in the back, road agents were informing that the match between those two and the Man Made Gods at Gods of Wrestling was official. I nodded to them, as if I knew everything that was going on, got my stuff and made arrangements to leave, making my way to the hotel right across the street from the Cajundome. Only one thing was on my mind.
Vengeance.
The next day I was in the local gym in Lafayette, going harder than any man has the right to. I had made myself perform more reps, go for longer times and generally push myself to the absolute limits. To help me, I had recruited one of the gym's regulars, a chiseled man who looked like he could run a marathon every day if he wanted to, to help me as my spotter.
I just wanted to be happy for just one moment.
Just. One. Moment.
With all the shit going on in my personal life, from losing Ramon in perhaps the messiest breakup imaginable, to losing my AW World Title just one week after winning it (again), I figured that going out to my people, the great people of Louisiana, would helped set me to ease. I was there to cheer on my tag team partner Corey Black as he participated in the main event of the night, and to take in the love of the crowd. That's all I was there for. No more, no less.
That was obviously too much to ask for.
Jayson Price and Seth Lerch. Two men I have VERY complicated feelings about. To see Seth alone in the ring with me was surreal to the point that I was questioning if I was seeing the real former owner of the WCF there in front of me. I knew for sure it was him when he attacked me with my own belt. To see Price afterwards was just the icing on the weird cake. I didn't pay full attention to everything they said, so by the time I was in the back, road agents were informing that the match between those two and the Man Made Gods at Gods of Wrestling was official. I nodded to them, as if I knew everything that was going on, got my stuff and made arrangements to leave, making my way to the hotel right across the street from the Cajundome. Only one thing was on my mind.
Vengeance.
The next day I was in the local gym in Lafayette, going harder than any man has the right to. I had made myself perform more reps, go for longer times and generally push myself to the absolute limits. To help me, I had recruited one of the gym's regulars, a chiseled man who looked like he could run a marathon every day if he wanted to, to help me as my spotter.
Gymrat: Gotta say, never worked out with a wrestler before, but I'm sure we'll do good!
FPV: Oh we will, all right. Just you wait.
I do not exaggerate when I say that I took this man to his limits, and he wasn't even the one who was working out. He struggled to keep up with the pace I was going at, and was baffled at every new workout I told him to get me ready for. At one point he just straight up asked me...
Gymrat: Dude, what kinda exercise routine are you DOING here?!
FPV: The one that'll get me ready for my next big wrestling match. Well, I lied. Two big wrestling matches.
Gymrat: You mean that Havoc Rumble I've been seeing all those commercials for?
I chuckled, but lightly enough to where he didn't feel I was mocking him.
FPV: No no, that's next week. This week I've got two recovering alcoholics I've got to run down and teach a lesson to.
His jaw practically dropped through the floor and into the core of the earth.
Gymrat: You're doing this entire, intense routine, just to get ready for a match against ALCOHOLICS?!
FPV: Yup. Couldn't have said it better myself, honestly.
Gymrat: What is wrong with you, dude?! What did they ever do to you?!
FPV: Oh man, what HAVEN'T they done to me over the years...
Gymrat: So just because these two wronged you in some way you find it necessary to go through all this prep, more prep than that giant sixty-man match...
FPV: Uh uh, that's where you're wrong. I'm preparing even harder for that match, harder than this match.
Gymrat: HARDER THAN THIS?!
He then proceeded to scream out of exasperation, thank god there was no one else there in the gym to hear him. I merely smiled to him once his yelp was over.
FPV: That's the business of pro wrestling for you. We're the hardest sport in the world, and that's a fact you just can't dispute. Football? Basketball? MMA? None of those can hold a candle to what we wrestlers have to go through to be who we are. IT's obvious you're not used to the pace we go at, and that's okay! Want a crash course in how we REALLY do things? Meet me next week when I'm getting ready for thee Rumble. You'll see the REAL me come out then, and fair warning, he can get quite...intense, hehe.
That man could not run out of my face any faster than he did. I laughed, what else could I do in response to how he reacted. In any case, the most strenuous training was done. After this it was just small stuff to get ready for the eradication of Price and Lerch. The pettiness in my soul couldn't wait.
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I had put some thought into where I would record my promo for Gods of Wrestling, and from the start only one location truly made sense.
Back when I was a full time WCF wrestler, they had cut back on national touring and had settled in Reading, Pennsylvania. They would do all of their shows at the now closed WCF Arena, and to facilitate an easy life, I bought a house in Reading that I stayed in for some time.
Now, after years of not living there, I made my way back inside my once humble abode (with the explicit permission of the home's current owners.) Surprisingly little had changed about the place, all the furniture was in the same configuration, though obviously upgraded for the times, and it truly felt like, in at least one way, I was coming home. As I took a seat on the couch I once spent many a sleepless night thinking about my career, I took my phone out, hit record, and went live knowing that my goal with this promo was simple.
Demoralize.
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I had put some thought into where I would record my promo for Gods of Wrestling, and from the start only one location truly made sense.
Back when I was a full time WCF wrestler, they had cut back on national touring and had settled in Reading, Pennsylvania. They would do all of their shows at the now closed WCF Arena, and to facilitate an easy life, I bought a house in Reading that I stayed in for some time.
Now, after years of not living there, I made my way back inside my once humble abode (with the explicit permission of the home's current owners.) Surprisingly little had changed about the place, all the furniture was in the same configuration, though obviously upgraded for the times, and it truly felt like, in at least one way, I was coming home. As I took a seat on the couch I once spent many a sleepless night thinking about my career, I took my phone out, hit record, and went live knowing that my goal with this promo was simple.
Demoralize.
FPV: Well well. Looks like we've gotten ourselves wrapped up in a bit of a doozy, haven't we? Let me just get right to the point, my primary goal this week isn't to defend the APW Tag Team Title. No no no, that'll come with the accomplishment of my primary goal, which is to make Jayson Price and Seth Lerch rue the day they EVER thought it would be a good idea to cross me, the Man Made Gods, or the wrestling landscape with their insulting presence. No pretense of sportsmanship here today. Only anger, hatred, and a need to KILL.
Let's start with you Price. The Man who always felt like a legend, and yet at the same time also a joke. I mean, people accuse me all the time of being a gold goblin, only caring about his accolades he's racked up in his career, and I'll be honest, at this point I can't deny that point. But you....oh boy YOU. You've literally DEFINED your whole persona as Mr. EVERY TITLE. The only man to hold EVERY SINGLE TITLE the WCF had to offer. Which considering the bloated amount of titles the WCF allowed to exist under Seth's watch, is definitely a feat. Yet give that accolade to anyone else, a Corey Black, a Gravedigger, a Slickie T, a Skyler Striker, ANYBODY. Give it to ANYBODY and that accolade means something. Yet when that accolade gets applied to you? It's quickly followed by laughter from the audience. Because they don't take you seriously, and they never have for years.
I'll admit, once upon a time you were something. Something to be respected, heck maybe even feared! Nowadays tho? You show up for a returnee pop you have neither earned nor the audience thinks you deserve, hype up one match every six months, take part in that match giving only the BARE minimum effort, and trust me IT SHOWS. You treat the audience, the people who your reputation (that you have obviously built your entire persona around as Mr. Every Title) with such disdain and apathy it actually sickens. Tell me Price, what do you truly care about in life? To be a loved successful wrestler, or a badass drifter who cares not for the common man's opinion of him. Cause you can be the second quite easily! Trust me on that. And I'm sure you've tried that approach to being a human before, only difference is that you can't even pull of THAT simple a persona without your entire being falling apart.
Your return on Metal inspired nothing but apathy.
The same apathy you have inspired in audiences ever since the closure of WCF.
And you think one Serenity Prayer and one appearance on Metal will change that?
Fuck you.
You will always be a hopeless drunk trying to act more important than he actually is.
And if I sound extra vindictive in my tone today, you've only got yourself and ole' Seth Lerch to blame for that.
Speaking of which...man, what a fucking trip it is to see this man in my life again.
I'll tell you this Seth, you could not have reentered at a worse time in my life. Without going into too much detail about it, because let's be real, you were never really too interested in the specifics of things in the first place, I've been falling apart for various reasons, and the one night I decide to just come out and commiserate with the fans, like everything you touch you just come and ruin it.
I find it, honestly, very confusing just how something so life changing, so influential to so many different people, some thing that has literally made people into the stars that they are today, was made by someone so undeserving of a legacy as you are. Cause Seth Lerch, you deserve to be nothing more than a squashed gnat on the windshield of humanity's achievements. The accolade of being the one to claim as the founder of Wrestling Championship Federation could not have gone to a more undeserving person. It may only be in hindsight, but in hindsight I can certainly see the WCF as a whole as being greater than the sum of it's parts. As a singular legacy greater than any one individual. One drunk misanthrope does not equal the joy and adulation he can give to so many hundreds of people throughout the years.
In fact, let's look at the numerous times you stepped away from the fed owner game for just a moment. You know what happened during those times? We survived. We THRIVED. It didn't matter who you put in charge, they took the ball you started and held it better than you ever could on your own. So why then, did your final heir apparent to take over from your final exit of the business, why did he fail so hard that the company fell apart?
Simple. Because he was Jayson Price. A drunken misanthrope, hired halfheartedly by another drunken misanthrope.
Seth, when we step in that ring I'm taking out over 9 years of pent up frustration on you. I was content to just let it simmer, thinking I'd never see you in my life again. But then...then you and Price chose death. So I have no choice but to end you. Your APW return was fun while it lasted, all of one week. It'll be a shame when the concussion my fucking boot gives you is going to put you on the shelf and end your sorry excuse for a "wrestling career." I don't have time for two pitiful has beens to make a shot at glory.
I'm here making my own glory.
See you on Monday, chucklefucks.
