Oppression||Pre-Show||Triple Threat

[Vince McMahon]

Pre-Show Match: Jordan Turner vs Tiffani Rose vs Rain

This is these three superstars opportunity to show management that they can win on a PPV level.

RP Below

[Rain]

"Overkill in its kindest form."

--o--

I didn't take losing to Tiffani as hard as everyone expected. I walked around the catering area for a while after my match. I wasn't surprised at all that I had lost. And quite frankly, I didn't really care. I know that I can easily beat Tiffani, just like how I can beat anyone on the roster. No one, and I mean absolutely no one, can match me in the ring. Tonight, Tiffani managed to have the luck on her side to get the roll up. But I don't mind losing, because everyone loses eventually.

I watched on the backstage viewing screen as Bret Hart and Bob Cena went at it. I didn't watch for long though. I lost interest fairly early into the match. Maybe it was because Bret was washed up and Bob has no in ring talent whatsoever. I wandered around for a little while longer before deciding that I wanted to head back to my hotel room. Of course, I notified the General Manager of my plans to leave, as I don't want any altercations there. While riding to the hotel, I thought about how to better my game, and how I will make quick work of my next opponent. Or maybe, if I'm lucky, I can get more than one opponent. That way I can prove that I truly am as dominant as I play myself off to be.

We reached the hotel rather quick, so I put off my plannings and tried to relax and get some rest. I wasn't all that hurt or fatigued because, well, Tiffani didn't really do much damage to me. It was obvious that I was in control of the match. But like I said earlier, I'm not mad. Tiffani will get hers soon enough. Everyone knows that she is a second rate as it comes. She, like the majority of Thy, have no in ring ability and get by on appealing to the audience. And it seems to work here. Actual in ring skill can only get you so far.

But appealing to the crowd and making it seem like you do everything you do solely for them will make you a legend.

But I had no plans of doing any of that.

I drifted off to sleep sometime around midnight. And in my dream, I was holding the Thy WWE Championship. I had reached the top of the mountain and reigned supreme over any and all competitors. Everyone in the locker room had but no choice but to look up to me. I started at the very bottom, seemingly unknown. But I rose to the top. And I did so by myself.

Sadly it was only a dream. But I knw it was my destiny. I knew it was bound to happen for me anyways.

I didn't really do much the day after Raw. I put on a baseball cap and some sunglasses and walked around town. I didn't really need the glasses and hat, seeing as how I'm not all that known yet. But I still like to wear it anyways. After all, it only takes one person to blow up over knowing who you are and the rest are sure to follow. I like to avoid that.

At around eight-ish, they ordered all Thy WWE employees to get on their respective tour busses and just like that, we were off. While everyone else was socializing and having a good time, I was in the back of the bus- planning a gameplan for whoever my next opponents were.

--o--

Rain. Perhaps he was different from the rest.

--o--

"Can't we wall just be wrestlers? Is that really too much to ask for?"

--o--

 
The camera opens on Rain sitting lazily on a steel folding chair. His surroundings are a familiar callback to his past promos - a backstage arena corridor, dimly lit, with differing shades of gray and earth as the dominant colors. The ever mysterious Rain sits decked out in full wrestling attire, one black-tighted leg crossed over the other. His face conveys disappointment, maybe even frustration, but he keeps it well under control.

Rain: It's been two, two-and-a-half years since the accident involving me, Ryan Lockett, and Jessica Parks. Believe me when I tell you that it was an accident - there was nothing scripted or kayfabe about it. That spear I dealt Jessica damaged her spine to the point that she can no longer walk, and she's going to be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

Rain casts his eyes downward for a moment, running a hand through his smooth brunette hair as he tries to figure out what he wants to say.

Rain: The backlash I received because of it was unprecedented, especially so given that it happened in an untelevised indy promotion. I received hate mail telling me that I should pack it in, hang up my boots, that I don't deserve to call myself a wrestler; I got called a slimeball, a douchebag, a callous son of a bitch; I received threats to my property, threats to my safety, and even threats on my life, all because I accidentally hurt a female wrestler.

Rain looks up, staring back into the camera, his icy blue eyes smoldering.
 
Rain: That's the problem.

He takes a brief pause, giving his words ample time to sink in before speaking again.

Rain: If it had been Ryan Lockett, the way I had intended, there would have been no outcry. I would have been hailed as a badass for putting him on the shelf... but because it was Jessica, because it was a woman, I was villified.

Scratching the bridge of his nose, Rain looks back down at the floor and shakes his head in amazement.

Rain: The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off. The women in this sport, they have it... they have it so easy. They don't have to be confined to their own division - they can wrestle with men if they want. But the second one of those men lays his hands on her, he gets villified, demonized, by default. As soon as Jordan Turner or I go on the offensive against Tiffani Rose this Sunday, it'll become recess on the playground - we'll be the bad guys, the bullies picking on the poor, defenseless girls.

Rain gets up and begins pacing, walking in tight circles around the steel chair. He crosses his arms over his muscular chest and stares at his feet as he walks, now speaking to the camera without looking at it.

Rain: Tiffani... Jordan...

His face hardens further, his lips pressing themselves into a grim line.

Rain: You both make me sick. Your agendas, your pandering... all of it makes me absolutely, unequivocally sick. You want to make this about gimmicks and entertainment? You want to make this about gender? Fine - try all you want, but the fact remains that all our match is about, all it ever has been about and all it ever will be about, is making the impact that will define the rest of your career.

Rain gets out of the chair again; this time, however, he crouches down in front of the camera, getting close enough so that his face fills the shot.

Rain: I'm the only one that seems to realize this - I'm the only one who sees our match at Oppression for what it truly is.

A smile, feral and predatory, twists the Rain's features.

Rain: Jordan. Tiffani. When the three of us step into that ring on Sunday, we will cease to be men and women, and we will no longer be gimmicks and cheap, sideshow entertainment. When the three of us go to Oppression, we will do so as wrestlers - nothing more, nothing less. The difference between us, however, is what we'll be coming out of the match. After it's all said and done...when the smoke and debris clear...

He bares his teeth in a savage grin.

Rain: You, Tiffani, will still be a woman; you, Jordan, will still be a laughing stock of the business. I, on the other hand, will no longer be a wrestler...I'll be a legend in the making.

Rain winks, and the video feed abruptly cuts out.

--o-- 

The wrestling ring is my playground, ladies and gentlemen. Come inside and play if you dare, but know that the game played within is one I never lose.