Post by Corey Black on Jul 18, 2020 16:05:16 GMT -5
Downtown Minneapolis is a ghost town, it seems. Looking down at the normally busy streets from his apartment in the sky is Corey Black, ice pack on the back of his neck due to an attack elsewhere. His reflection in the window appears very sad, and his head turns rapidly to the left as if he heard something. His eyes grow wide, he squints and tries to listen. A puzzled look comes over him, but he does his best to ignore it. There's a tall, leggy blonde in the kitchen behind him making eggs. His apartment is open floor style, so they're a good distance away from one another, but she looks back and sees him with the look of near grief in his eyes. She goes to move, but he moves first, marching toward the door. He exits, leaving her to wonder where he's gone.
A dark night, stars blot the sky and the moon casts its glow upon the landscape. A forest filled with lavish green trees, a hooded man waling among them. The black hoodie he wears offers little to no protection of his identity, his long viking-like beard jettisons out of it toward the soggy ground.
"Real recognizes real. Zaigon Carter, you came into APW and you rose the ranks as fast as anyone has ever seen someone do so. Your triumphs go beyond the squared circle and your skills within it are truly remarkable."
Corey stops.
"Through it all, your entire career in wrestling and outside it, even through your expulsion from the sport, did you ever stop to think that maybe - just maybe - there's a broader world out there that you haven't experienced?
That's where I am from, Mr. Carter. That deep recess of your mind that you want to turn off and ignore. The creeping thought of doubt. Our outer exterior exudes confidence, power and fortune. Inside, you're a broken child. Almost like some Divine Destiny stepped in and ejected your presence from professional wrestling.
You and I are two sides of the same coin. I flip the piece and look at the other side sometimes, while you - Zaigon - you're too consumed with your own past to see what's right in front of you. Living through the day you were ousted, reliving your life as the son of the true Mr. Carter - doing all you can to erase his memory as yours was. Your blinders will be your downfall at Metal.
You claim to represent American values, you do. Values of wealth, caring for yourself before caring for the people, insistence of ignorance to the world beyond your eyesight - you do represent America well. The wrong parts of America, Mr. Carter, the America that kneels and tastes the boot of their treacherous leader.
Turn the coin over and you'll see a man that has dominated the sport for twenty years, including the seven you spent licking your fragile ego's wounds. I've got daddy issues, I have an ego that can be bruised but not broken. I am Corey fucking Black, the King of All Wrestlers.
Your reckoning.
APW isn't here for you to run over to boost your stocks. The competition you have come across has been fierce, hardly legendary. At Metal you're walking into a match with a suspected tag specialist, but as it turns out, I am better than every challenge you've ever had - combined. I am the part of your mind that keeps you awake at night, the lingering feeling that maybe Zaigon Carter just hasn't met his match yet.
I'm not talking about the young lady that you wronged and sent you packing just before New Year's Day seven long years ago. She could only keep you down for so long.
I - Zaigon - can keep you down for so SO much longer.
I'm sure you've heard that your whole life, people have always targeted you for your power. None of that matters to me. My issue is your overwhelming arrogance when it comes to your conduct in the ring. A cheat, a liar and clearly a devil with a silver tongue. Your rhetoric will never sway me or cause me ill fortune. My mind is concrete, my soul is content and my actions will speak louder than your wallet ever could. I don't travel in limos, I don't have hired security. I am America, Zaigon, the true America you look down upon and claim to represent.
I am the working man, the gentleman in the street working on it to make sure people like you won't have to have your driver hit a pothole. I am the guy you hire to mow your lavish lawn and trim your brush. The very beating heart of the country, I am the bleeding organ that gives APW life.
No matter how much you attempt to snuff the flame, use this place as a platform to spew your garbled message to the masses, there will always be one - one to stand up and scream louder than your bullhorn can go."
Corey Black steps forward and unleashes a guttural, nearly shocking bellow that sense scores of birds from their perches in the trees. Corey drops to a knee, breathing heavy after his outburst. His voice quiets.
"While my goal in Alpha Prio was achieved within my first month of working here, my career has been defined by the names I have crossed off. A man on this very roster once claimed his status as legend without proving himself against the King. And when I came knocking, his voice cracked. Just as yours should, but won't, Zaigon. He knew that he was dealing with as much as he wanted to puff a chest and claim foul. He learned quickly that I don't fucking play games. You'll learn just as fast, when this all said and done, you're waking up from your concussion after being pinned, you'll know first hand that when I say I am going to do something, then by GOD I'm going to do it.
Mr. Carter, I am going to humble you.
I am going to elbow you back into reality.
I am NOT a stepping stone. You're the APW World Champion, and yet, here I stand with more prestige than you could ever have. A match against me puts any World Champion as an underdog. You may not know it, but you're favored to lose this contest of skill.
Flip the coin over and take a look."
Corey thrusts his hand into the ground, moving the softened dirt with ease and he pulls what looks like a treasure chest out of the forest ground. He opens it, a golden shine illuminated Corey's face. He pulls a doubloon from the chest, gold on one side. Then he turns it over - it's purple.
"This new morning in APW fucking sucks, Zaigon."
Corey closes the chest, but a golden light still shines upon him. The sun is coming up.
"If APW needs a revolution, a man that can lead it through.. look no further. This place is like a new puppy, at first it's cute and you want to play with it.. then it becomes part of you. Anything that looks to cast a shadow over its light becomes part of the problem."
Corey turns his hand and readies to flip the coin.
"I challenge your throne."
The coin is flicked into the air, tumbling through like a leaf falling from a branch in late October. It lands in Corey's hand, he clasps it closed, not showing what the coin has landed on.
"Two sides of the same coin. Both have worth, but only one can be showered in light - the other lost to the darkness."
Corey opens his hand.
But he doesn't look at the coin. He closes his hand and lifts the chest lid just enough to slip the golden item back in.
"I don't need to see it, Zaigon. I know who I am and I know who you are. You think you know who I am and have no clue who you truly are. I haven't lost once in Alpha Pro, the last time I was pinned was over eight months ago. Full time, two places. And you? You're a lost puppy trying to find his way back to where you think you belong, slipped and fell into a golden strap around your waist. I, Zaigon, have earned the belts I wear. Three hundred and thirty five days as Action Wrestling Hardcore Champion, I have made that belt mean more than both of our World Titles combined, Mr. Carter. You see, the championship doesn't make the man - the man makes the championship. Right now, the APW World Title is a trinket that belongs on a dusty shelf in an attic. Just as you should be. I don't want the Alpha Pro World Title, not in the state it is in now. I just want your blood to be spilled and your eyes to be opened.
For one hundred and ten days I have held the Alpha Pro Tag Team Championship with my friend, my partner Frank Patrick Venable. We blew through the competition just as you have and when we won the championships, they skyrocketed to the forefront of the pro wrestling world. Two retired men teamed up to try to take us down, two men that have almost nothing in common came together in an attempt to dethrone us - that's just what happens when the MAN makes the TITLE."
Corey stands up, stepping on the chest and pushing it back into the ground. Clouds are forming in the distance, in a flash day has turned back to darkness. Rain falls from the sky and begins saturating the already wet ground. Lightning crashes in the distance, casting a familiar shadow through a clearing in the trees. An obelisk appears to be beyond the treeline, but Corey pays no mind.
"The new day of Alpha Pro will be shorter than the winter solstice. Midwinter comes for you in the middle of summer, Mr. Carter. The cold, icy breeze of your damnation glides across the land and comes face tof ace with you on Metal*. When I knock you down a peg, shatter your confidence and make you rethink your return to professional wrestling, I want you to sit down in immense wooded estate, pet your eagle and look at the other side of the fucking coin.
Stained in your blood, etched with my name.
Corey fucking Black.
The King of All Wrestlers."
Lightning strikes once again and the trees cast a shadow onto Corey's face, a familiar marking of days gone. He smiles, then turns away, walking back the way he came. Through the downpour, sloshing through puddles forming beneath him. Thunder echoes off the forest trees, not deterring Corey Black at all.
A dark night, stars blot the sky and the moon casts its glow upon the landscape. A forest filled with lavish green trees, a hooded man waling among them. The black hoodie he wears offers little to no protection of his identity, his long viking-like beard jettisons out of it toward the soggy ground.
"Real recognizes real. Zaigon Carter, you came into APW and you rose the ranks as fast as anyone has ever seen someone do so. Your triumphs go beyond the squared circle and your skills within it are truly remarkable."
Corey stops.
"Through it all, your entire career in wrestling and outside it, even through your expulsion from the sport, did you ever stop to think that maybe - just maybe - there's a broader world out there that you haven't experienced?
That's where I am from, Mr. Carter. That deep recess of your mind that you want to turn off and ignore. The creeping thought of doubt. Our outer exterior exudes confidence, power and fortune. Inside, you're a broken child. Almost like some Divine Destiny stepped in and ejected your presence from professional wrestling.
You and I are two sides of the same coin. I flip the piece and look at the other side sometimes, while you - Zaigon - you're too consumed with your own past to see what's right in front of you. Living through the day you were ousted, reliving your life as the son of the true Mr. Carter - doing all you can to erase his memory as yours was. Your blinders will be your downfall at Metal.
You claim to represent American values, you do. Values of wealth, caring for yourself before caring for the people, insistence of ignorance to the world beyond your eyesight - you do represent America well. The wrong parts of America, Mr. Carter, the America that kneels and tastes the boot of their treacherous leader.
Turn the coin over and you'll see a man that has dominated the sport for twenty years, including the seven you spent licking your fragile ego's wounds. I've got daddy issues, I have an ego that can be bruised but not broken. I am Corey fucking Black, the King of All Wrestlers.
Your reckoning.
APW isn't here for you to run over to boost your stocks. The competition you have come across has been fierce, hardly legendary. At Metal you're walking into a match with a suspected tag specialist, but as it turns out, I am better than every challenge you've ever had - combined. I am the part of your mind that keeps you awake at night, the lingering feeling that maybe Zaigon Carter just hasn't met his match yet.
I'm not talking about the young lady that you wronged and sent you packing just before New Year's Day seven long years ago. She could only keep you down for so long.
I - Zaigon - can keep you down for so SO much longer.
I'm sure you've heard that your whole life, people have always targeted you for your power. None of that matters to me. My issue is your overwhelming arrogance when it comes to your conduct in the ring. A cheat, a liar and clearly a devil with a silver tongue. Your rhetoric will never sway me or cause me ill fortune. My mind is concrete, my soul is content and my actions will speak louder than your wallet ever could. I don't travel in limos, I don't have hired security. I am America, Zaigon, the true America you look down upon and claim to represent.
I am the working man, the gentleman in the street working on it to make sure people like you won't have to have your driver hit a pothole. I am the guy you hire to mow your lavish lawn and trim your brush. The very beating heart of the country, I am the bleeding organ that gives APW life.
No matter how much you attempt to snuff the flame, use this place as a platform to spew your garbled message to the masses, there will always be one - one to stand up and scream louder than your bullhorn can go."
Corey Black steps forward and unleashes a guttural, nearly shocking bellow that sense scores of birds from their perches in the trees. Corey drops to a knee, breathing heavy after his outburst. His voice quiets.
"While my goal in Alpha Prio was achieved within my first month of working here, my career has been defined by the names I have crossed off. A man on this very roster once claimed his status as legend without proving himself against the King. And when I came knocking, his voice cracked. Just as yours should, but won't, Zaigon. He knew that he was dealing with as much as he wanted to puff a chest and claim foul. He learned quickly that I don't fucking play games. You'll learn just as fast, when this all said and done, you're waking up from your concussion after being pinned, you'll know first hand that when I say I am going to do something, then by GOD I'm going to do it.
Mr. Carter, I am going to humble you.
I am going to elbow you back into reality.
I am NOT a stepping stone. You're the APW World Champion, and yet, here I stand with more prestige than you could ever have. A match against me puts any World Champion as an underdog. You may not know it, but you're favored to lose this contest of skill.
Flip the coin over and take a look."
Corey thrusts his hand into the ground, moving the softened dirt with ease and he pulls what looks like a treasure chest out of the forest ground. He opens it, a golden shine illuminated Corey's face. He pulls a doubloon from the chest, gold on one side. Then he turns it over - it's purple.
"This new morning in APW fucking sucks, Zaigon."
Corey closes the chest, but a golden light still shines upon him. The sun is coming up.
"If APW needs a revolution, a man that can lead it through.. look no further. This place is like a new puppy, at first it's cute and you want to play with it.. then it becomes part of you. Anything that looks to cast a shadow over its light becomes part of the problem."
Corey turns his hand and readies to flip the coin.
"I challenge your throne."
The coin is flicked into the air, tumbling through like a leaf falling from a branch in late October. It lands in Corey's hand, he clasps it closed, not showing what the coin has landed on.
"Two sides of the same coin. Both have worth, but only one can be showered in light - the other lost to the darkness."
Corey opens his hand.
But he doesn't look at the coin. He closes his hand and lifts the chest lid just enough to slip the golden item back in.
"I don't need to see it, Zaigon. I know who I am and I know who you are. You think you know who I am and have no clue who you truly are. I haven't lost once in Alpha Pro, the last time I was pinned was over eight months ago. Full time, two places. And you? You're a lost puppy trying to find his way back to where you think you belong, slipped and fell into a golden strap around your waist. I, Zaigon, have earned the belts I wear. Three hundred and thirty five days as Action Wrestling Hardcore Champion, I have made that belt mean more than both of our World Titles combined, Mr. Carter. You see, the championship doesn't make the man - the man makes the championship. Right now, the APW World Title is a trinket that belongs on a dusty shelf in an attic. Just as you should be. I don't want the Alpha Pro World Title, not in the state it is in now. I just want your blood to be spilled and your eyes to be opened.
For one hundred and ten days I have held the Alpha Pro Tag Team Championship with my friend, my partner Frank Patrick Venable. We blew through the competition just as you have and when we won the championships, they skyrocketed to the forefront of the pro wrestling world. Two retired men teamed up to try to take us down, two men that have almost nothing in common came together in an attempt to dethrone us - that's just what happens when the MAN makes the TITLE."
Corey stands up, stepping on the chest and pushing it back into the ground. Clouds are forming in the distance, in a flash day has turned back to darkness. Rain falls from the sky and begins saturating the already wet ground. Lightning crashes in the distance, casting a familiar shadow through a clearing in the trees. An obelisk appears to be beyond the treeline, but Corey pays no mind.
"The new day of Alpha Pro will be shorter than the winter solstice. Midwinter comes for you in the middle of summer, Mr. Carter. The cold, icy breeze of your damnation glides across the land and comes face tof ace with you on Metal*. When I knock you down a peg, shatter your confidence and make you rethink your return to professional wrestling, I want you to sit down in immense wooded estate, pet your eagle and look at the other side of the fucking coin.
Stained in your blood, etched with my name.
Corey fucking Black.
The King of All Wrestlers."
Lightning strikes once again and the trees cast a shadow onto Corey's face, a familiar marking of days gone. He smiles, then turns away, walking back the way he came. Through the downpour, sloshing through puddles forming beneath him. Thunder echoes off the forest trees, not deterring Corey Black at all.
