Post by Frank Venable on Aug 30, 2020 18:45:04 GMT -5
FPV RP #12 - To Be Frank...
The trainees of the Burning Hammer Dojo in Minneapolis were deeply focused with their training, all of them here to learn the fundamentals of the industry they have chosen. They had made the choice to take one of the most difficult career paths one could take, and almost all of them were succeeding with flying colors. I had begun to make a point of doing regular appearances at Corey Black's dojo, occasionally performing a seminar on some aspect of wrestling but almost always doing my best to keep the trainees motivated.
My previous attempts at adopting a trainee and teaching them the industry of professional wrestling have been met with minimal success. My biggest success (if you could call it that) was introducing the world to my blood brother Alexander, then known to the world as "Da Funk." Aside from his short, mildly okay run, no one else I've trained has accomplished anything of note. It's one of the definite low points in my resume and one that I had decided was in need of some serious correcting.
Yet as I began to make my leave of the Dojo, I happened across a young man hunched over on a bunch, towel draped over his head and breathing heavily. He wasn't looking well at all, and I grabbed the bottle on the floor beside him and handed it to him.
FPV: Easy there, friend. Hydrate, it'll fix you up. Trust me.
He shakily took the bottle from my hands, gulping down the remainder of his water fairly quickly. I finally caught a glimpse of his face, young yet drained of all energy, his hair a mess of sweat. His breathing began to return to normal as he looked up towards me.
FPV: We all have our days like that. Even the best in the business still have a troublesome day every now and then. Tell me, what's your name kid?
Trainee: Davie. My name's Davie.
FPV: Mmm. Good name.
Davie: Can I be honest with you? For just a second?
FPV: By all means.
His demeanor changed, his face scrunching up with bashfulness and just a hint of shame.
Watching Davie in the state he was in, I couldn't help but feel for the kid. He reminded me way too much of myself when I was still a rookie, discouraged by my lack of progress. I knew all too well just how rough the opening stages of a wrestling career could be; not everyone has it in them to be a prodigy right out of the gate. Maybe it would be through Davie that I finally learn how to be a proper mentor to the new generation.
Davie: Right now? I guess so.
FPV: Good. Meet me here tomorrow.
Davie: But we don't have a training day tomorrow.
FPV: I know. You'll be getting a private session with me. Iron sharpens iron, and Davie, I'm the sharpest iron you're going to find around here.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the day ended and students began clearing out the dojo, I was left to my own devices for a minute. The perfect time to contemplate what was to come in APW.
The Showdown match was looming, and with it my first chance at APW World Title gold since the days of Smith Jones. Yet as tantalizing as the prospect of beating Zaigon for the big strap was, there was perhaps a more pressing matter on my hands at that show. Frank Lowe and his Hangman Henchmen coming in to stake their claim towards tag team greatness. That was the main focus of this pay per view, and one which I was NOT about to take lightly.
I began to speak as soon as I hit the record button on my phone.
FPV: How simple, the power a single name holds. There are names so legendary, so revered that you need only speak them to illicit a grand reaction. Names like Jonny Fly, Corey Black, Slickie T, the list goes on and on. And over the past year or so, I’ve made sure that when wrestling fans the world hear my name, that they lose their FUCKING minds. One single name to make them realize that they are about to witness GREATNESS at hand!
One name. FRANK.
How simple, the power a name like that can hold. Too bad you’ve had to come and fuck it up, Lowe.
Let’s get one thing clear, Lowe. When these fans hear the name Frank, they are never going to imagine you in all your barrel chested misogynistic infamy. No, they’ll imagine me. Frank Patrick Venable. God Victorious. The only man to hold the AW World Title three times, and with my boy Corey, the current longest reigning champion in APW.
That’s a fact I find extremely pertinent considering the event we find ourselves at. Showdown, the ultimate clash of champions with a shot at dethroning Zaigon as World Champion. But take a good hard look at who our current champions are. Because when the Man Made Gods first became champions, every belt had a different owner. As the months have gone on, the landscape of APW as we know it has changed completely.
Yet there has always been one, constant comfort throughout all of these months. The Gods were you’re tag team champions.
There’s been another constant throughout our reign, though. Everyone who has tried to dethrone Corey and I have been hopelessly out of sync with each other, a team in name only. Look at them all. Richards and Balfour. Price and Lerch. Oblivion and Wilds. Apokalips and Blade. All mismatched like a clashing wardrobe.
Make no mistake, the Hangmen are just like everyone who’s come before.
Don’t get me wrong, out of everyone who’s challenged us, you three are the most cohesive unit. At least y’all have some experience together, you couldn’t say that for any other team. But I’ve seen the way you lot interact with each other, I’ve seen how you shout over each other and slap each other around like a bunch of wannabe alphas striving for dominance. It’s not a fucking good look at all. That’s not how champions interact with each other. You’re all acting like juvie kids, and it sickens me.
Also I’m not one to tell anyone they can’t call themselves something, but fucking really? Noose and Shooter? In this fucking age of unrest and violence, you two really think it’s acceptable to call yourselves Shooter and Noose? Seriously now, read the fucking room.
Now Corey, Graham and I? We’re the most cohesive unit you can find in any federation. We all like each other, we all work well with each other, and I know for a fact that I’m loyal to those men till the bitter end, and they’d do the same for me. That kind of loyalty you can never buy, Lowe. Not in a lifetime.
But you don’t care much about that kind of thing, do you? You want something you just throw an angry tantrum until you get what you want. Lowe, you are the saddest man I think I’ve ever met in my life. Your version of masculinity....fuck, you actually make me feel ashamed to call myself a man. You’re a cartoon villain, an amalgamation of every rapist bad men that’s ever been in a Lifetime movie. You. Are. Misery. Personified.
It’s gonna feel so GOOD to beat you, though. I’m everything you hate in a man, aren’t I? I’m a liberal leaning rich man who isn’t afraid to love another man in the public eye. I may not meet your criteria for manliness, but I don’t want to. Not if it has asses like you as it’s stalwart. I just...cannot wait to hear you beg for the mercy of the gay boy shoving his boot into your jaw. I look forward to that very much.
But...well, there’s one other reason I don’t like you, Lowe. Because you’re a stone. Cold. Killer.
We all saw you kill Raging Dead on Clash, don’t try to not mention it like it never happened. And now that I’m facing off against you, I just can’t help but feel a little want for justice and vengeance well up I side me. Hell, I didn’t even know Gust that well, but seeing your lack of remorse towards him...it sends a chill down my spine.
You must really have no heart, Lowe. Just seeing how brazen you are about this...it’s disgusting. I dunno if you’ve seen my exploits against another murderer in this business, the AW Champ Walter, but suffice it to say I do NOT play around with this kind of thing.
So if the law won’t put you down like you deserve, I will. I will my that ring my own personal courtroom and I will condemn you for the sins you have committed. Trust me.
Names have power. The name of Frank Venable symbolizes greatness. The name of Frank Lowe does not, and will never symbolize greatness. The best you can ever hope for is pity. All is going to take is one match for me and the Gods to run this false Frank out of town, because the false Frank will NEVER be welcome in my territory.
Nothing changes at Showdown. The Godsreign will continue, just like it always has. Champions. In. PERPETUITY.
