Post by Jon Moxley / The Wyatt Family on Dec 19, 2014 15:15:52 GMT -5
Calm. Keep calm.
My stomach is churning. Why am I so nervous?
My flashbacks have reared their ugly heads back into my life again. I need to prove to the world I deserve the main event.
I am a member of the most dominant faction in ThyWWE. I just need more great performances to prove to all of the higher ups, to the geriatrics, that I deserve that spot. I'm going to grab the brass ring.
****
RAW 139
Troy is sitting, his eyes trained on the screen.
That's Beno.
Troy hasn't moved an inch since he saw what was going on.
And that's Zak Shields in the ring, they're fighting.
For the first time in two weeks, Troy has a flashback.
His entire body was numb; it was almost like his body had gotten used to the beatings. He could feel every hit, every slap and every kick, feel the sharp pain from it, but he just couldn't react, couldn't flinch. His head just hung low. He was a defeated man.
A punch caused him to fall back against the wall, the chains holding his arms clanking. Troy barely even grimaces, even as he feels the blood running. Yet another busted lip.
"Come on, Motor. Do something. Get revenge, kid. Come on, get me. Take me out."
But Troy didn't move, not an inch. Blood dripped steadily from the wound in his lip. His eyes were closed tightly shut.
He was taken back to reality, his heart was pounding, his head hurt- Zak had defeated Beno.
Troy blacked out; he was later told he had started with the television.
He obliterated it; kicking it, stomping it, tossing it at the walls.
He tore down any pictures and broke those, too. He put holes in the wall. He smashed everything, and when people finally came to see what was going on, Troy was on the ground, talking rapidly to himself, staring at the lights in the ceiling.
And finally, Troy Motor gave up.
****
Doc helped stitch up Troy's hand. He had gotten a few good punches in on the tv, but it also sliced open a few areas of his hand. It was almost nauseating, seeing Troy's entire hand and forearm saturated in blood. He was lucky they stopped the flow in time.
"I can't sleep, Doc."
"And why is that?" The doctor asked, not all there, concentrating on Troy's wounds.
"Because I get the flashbacks. The nightmares. And I can't stop them, not until I stop him....." Troy trailed off, lost in his thoughts. Doc didn't reply.
He tied the thread and cut.
****
Troy hadn't done his research, not nearly as much as he should have. He was vaguely aware of who FEAR was; he just couldn't be bothered. He buried himself in his thoughts and his beer and his tins of Grizzly.
He knew FEAR was a former Knight; Troy could get his motivation level up with the thought of obliterating a knight. It didn't work.
Troy just took a sip of his beer.
He needed more wins; he was on the best run of his career with the New Age, he couldn't keep up with the other guys if he didn't win his matches. His victory over Kurt put him in a good place; he defeated a former world champion. But none of it was motivation enough.
Troy just took a sip of his beer.
He had to make Beno notice him, make Beno pissed that he hadn't stopped him when he had the chance.
Troy just took a sip of his beer,
And he went on with his miserable life.
****
A clock was ticking.
Troy ran as fast as he could, his legs propelling him down the long, sterile hallway. But the hallway went on and on and on and on, and it began feeling like he was running against the wind. He looked behind.
A dark mist was creeping towards him, slowly overtaking the brightly lit white hallway.
Troy was sweating through his clothes now; he was devoting all of his effort into getting away from the mist, but there was no escaping oblivion.
It collected around him, and he couldn't breathe and his lungs burned and-
Troy woke up with a scream. He was sweaty, and breathing heavily. His heart was pounding hard.
From the bedside table he picked up hiS pHone, opEning it and chEcking the time- it was 5 a.m. Another nightmare, of course. It's just what he needed on a fine Monday morning. At least this time he got himself a few hours of sleeP.
Troy showered, dressed, and packed up all of his stuff. It was his routine these days, he barely thought anything of it. Not like he used to, anyways.
Finally out of the hotel, he jumped into his rental car. He slid on his over expensive headphones, plugged them into his phone, and pressed play on his music. It was the only escape these days.
One of these days the ground will drop out from beneath your feet,
One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat,
One of these days the clocks will stop and time won't mean a thing,
One of these days their bombs will drop and silence everything.
****
By the time Troy arrives to the arena, it's 11:00. He had made a few stops (at a Walmart, his newest action figure was there, which was cool. Low on accessories though). Still plenty of time until the show. Judging by the lack of production trucks, he was there really early. There weren't many people at all.
He took this chance to sit on a chair in the arena; later that night, some fan would sit in this chair, staring down at the ring, and either boo or cheer him. Or give him no reaction at all.
They would cheer or they would boo if FEAR pinned him.
They would cheer or boo if Troy pinned FEAR.
Troy took out his phone, pausing his music, and opened his twitter app.
@thywwe who is this fear guy?
He posted that tweet with a smirk on his face.
****
Showtime. The crowd is hyped for what is no doubt going to be an intense show. Troy is in gorilla, his headphones on again. He is already pumped up, already has adrenaline flowing through his veins.
He's ready for a fight.
He figured people would know not to mess with him when he's in the zone; someone pats him on the shoulder, not hard, but not friendly either. Troy turns around, clenching his fist, only to realize it was Kevin Nash. Troy started laughing, and they hugged.
"How have you been, man?" Troy asked. He hadn't talk to Nash for quite a few months.
"Good, good. I was in the area for a friend, so I figured I might as well stop by. You've got quite a deal going on. This whole New Age thing." Nash chuckled. "Reminds me of the Kliq. You guys got something going here, it's money."
Now Troy chuckled.
"It's not about money anymore, Kev. It was about money when I was busting my ass trying to get to this cesspool in the first place..... now it's about sending a message to the world. It's about us setting up the next generation."
"Nice speech, General." Nash laughed. "I understand you better than most, I know what this is and I think it's great you guys are finally stepping up. I even forgive Joey for my leg, which has healed up quite nicely..."
Troy smirked. In the rush of all of the people in gorilla, all of the tech people, all of the business men who'd never fought a day in their lives, Troy was talking to someone he trusted. Hell, Nash was almost family.
Of course, the moment gets tarnished somewhat by a dumbfuck with a camera. He wants an interview for ThyWWE.com. Troy is about to blow a gasket, but Nash, ever the showman, tells them that they're up for it. In 5, 4, 3, 2....
"Yo, Nash, who is this FEAR dude?" Troy says. Nash leans up against a crate, looking contemplative.
"Y'know Troy, I just can't seem to think...... just can't figure out who he is."
"So he's irrelevant.... I mean, right? Surely Kevin Nash, one of the all time greats in the history of professional wrestling, would know anyone who is a big deal, right?"
"Oh absolutely. I saw just about everyone in the New Age grabbing that brass ring. I'd hate to brag but I've always had that eye. Hell, I remember once, Tiger Woods came to me, I must've hit the golfball 800 yards, and Tiger, he came up to me and says 'Nash, you're so good man, how do you get so good without practice?' Because you know Tiger right, alls he ever does is practice and practice and practice. So I had to let him down gently, you know, tell him not everyone can be legendary like Kevin Nash..."
"Absolutely, I love that story, by the way..."
"But you see, I knew that Triana, that Zak Shields, that Bob Cena, Joey the Bastard, you, I knew you guys were going to lead the company to new heights the world has never seen. I don't see that with FEAR, really...."
Troy looks into the camera and shrugs.
"Sorry FEAR, looks like you don't have what it takes. I'd take Kevin's word as gospel truth as well- this man knew when it was time to step down, when it was time to let the young guys have a go. This man is a legend, and he didn't tarnish that at all by staying for years like most guys do. He let the new generation lead the company. And yet.... while Nash tried to elevate the new gen, all of you geriatric f***s just clung to your spots. You held down people who could have sent this company into the stratosphere. Men who could've really padded Vince's pockets, because let's face it, that's all Vince cares about, isn't it? So now that that's all out of the way, bring your best, FEAR. ThyWWE2k15 preorder bonus? Give me a break. Welcome back, FEAR. Lesson 1: Don't f*** with the New Age."
My stomach is churning. Why am I so nervous?
My flashbacks have reared their ugly heads back into my life again. I need to prove to the world I deserve the main event.
I am a member of the most dominant faction in ThyWWE. I just need more great performances to prove to all of the higher ups, to the geriatrics, that I deserve that spot. I'm going to grab the brass ring.
****
RAW 139
Troy is sitting, his eyes trained on the screen.
That's Beno.
Troy hasn't moved an inch since he saw what was going on.
And that's Zak Shields in the ring, they're fighting.
For the first time in two weeks, Troy has a flashback.
His entire body was numb; it was almost like his body had gotten used to the beatings. He could feel every hit, every slap and every kick, feel the sharp pain from it, but he just couldn't react, couldn't flinch. His head just hung low. He was a defeated man.
A punch caused him to fall back against the wall, the chains holding his arms clanking. Troy barely even grimaces, even as he feels the blood running. Yet another busted lip.
"Come on, Motor. Do something. Get revenge, kid. Come on, get me. Take me out."
But Troy didn't move, not an inch. Blood dripped steadily from the wound in his lip. His eyes were closed tightly shut.
He was taken back to reality, his heart was pounding, his head hurt- Zak had defeated Beno.
Troy blacked out; he was later told he had started with the television.
He obliterated it; kicking it, stomping it, tossing it at the walls.
He tore down any pictures and broke those, too. He put holes in the wall. He smashed everything, and when people finally came to see what was going on, Troy was on the ground, talking rapidly to himself, staring at the lights in the ceiling.
And finally, Troy Motor gave up.
****
Doc helped stitch up Troy's hand. He had gotten a few good punches in on the tv, but it also sliced open a few areas of his hand. It was almost nauseating, seeing Troy's entire hand and forearm saturated in blood. He was lucky they stopped the flow in time.
"I can't sleep, Doc."
"And why is that?" The doctor asked, not all there, concentrating on Troy's wounds.
"Because I get the flashbacks. The nightmares. And I can't stop them, not until I stop him....." Troy trailed off, lost in his thoughts. Doc didn't reply.
He tied the thread and cut.
****
Troy hadn't done his research, not nearly as much as he should have. He was vaguely aware of who FEAR was; he just couldn't be bothered. He buried himself in his thoughts and his beer and his tins of Grizzly.
He knew FEAR was a former Knight; Troy could get his motivation level up with the thought of obliterating a knight. It didn't work.
Troy just took a sip of his beer.
He needed more wins; he was on the best run of his career with the New Age, he couldn't keep up with the other guys if he didn't win his matches. His victory over Kurt put him in a good place; he defeated a former world champion. But none of it was motivation enough.
Troy just took a sip of his beer.
He had to make Beno notice him, make Beno pissed that he hadn't stopped him when he had the chance.
Troy just took a sip of his beer,
And he went on with his miserable life.
****
A clock was ticking.
Troy ran as fast as he could, his legs propelling him down the long, sterile hallway. But the hallway went on and on and on and on, and it began feeling like he was running against the wind. He looked behind.
A dark mist was creeping towards him, slowly overtaking the brightly lit white hallway.
Troy was sweating through his clothes now; he was devoting all of his effort into getting away from the mist, but there was no escaping oblivion.
It collected around him, and he couldn't breathe and his lungs burned and-
Troy woke up with a scream. He was sweaty, and breathing heavily. His heart was pounding hard.
From the bedside table he picked up hiS pHone, opEning it and chEcking the time- it was 5 a.m. Another nightmare, of course. It's just what he needed on a fine Monday morning. At least this time he got himself a few hours of sleeP.
Troy showered, dressed, and packed up all of his stuff. It was his routine these days, he barely thought anything of it. Not like he used to, anyways.
Finally out of the hotel, he jumped into his rental car. He slid on his over expensive headphones, plugged them into his phone, and pressed play on his music. It was the only escape these days.
One of these days the ground will drop out from beneath your feet,
One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat,
One of these days the clocks will stop and time won't mean a thing,
One of these days their bombs will drop and silence everything.
****
By the time Troy arrives to the arena, it's 11:00. He had made a few stops (at a Walmart, his newest action figure was there, which was cool. Low on accessories though). Still plenty of time until the show. Judging by the lack of production trucks, he was there really early. There weren't many people at all.
He took this chance to sit on a chair in the arena; later that night, some fan would sit in this chair, staring down at the ring, and either boo or cheer him. Or give him no reaction at all.
They would cheer or they would boo if FEAR pinned him.
They would cheer or boo if Troy pinned FEAR.
Troy took out his phone, pausing his music, and opened his twitter app.
@thywwe who is this fear guy?
He posted that tweet with a smirk on his face.
****
Showtime. The crowd is hyped for what is no doubt going to be an intense show. Troy is in gorilla, his headphones on again. He is already pumped up, already has adrenaline flowing through his veins.
He's ready for a fight.
He figured people would know not to mess with him when he's in the zone; someone pats him on the shoulder, not hard, but not friendly either. Troy turns around, clenching his fist, only to realize it was Kevin Nash. Troy started laughing, and they hugged.
"How have you been, man?" Troy asked. He hadn't talk to Nash for quite a few months.
"Good, good. I was in the area for a friend, so I figured I might as well stop by. You've got quite a deal going on. This whole New Age thing." Nash chuckled. "Reminds me of the Kliq. You guys got something going here, it's money."
Now Troy chuckled.
"It's not about money anymore, Kev. It was about money when I was busting my ass trying to get to this cesspool in the first place..... now it's about sending a message to the world. It's about us setting up the next generation."
"Nice speech, General." Nash laughed. "I understand you better than most, I know what this is and I think it's great you guys are finally stepping up. I even forgive Joey for my leg, which has healed up quite nicely..."
Troy smirked. In the rush of all of the people in gorilla, all of the tech people, all of the business men who'd never fought a day in their lives, Troy was talking to someone he trusted. Hell, Nash was almost family.
Of course, the moment gets tarnished somewhat by a dumbfuck with a camera. He wants an interview for ThyWWE.com. Troy is about to blow a gasket, but Nash, ever the showman, tells them that they're up for it. In 5, 4, 3, 2....
"Yo, Nash, who is this FEAR dude?" Troy says. Nash leans up against a crate, looking contemplative.
"Y'know Troy, I just can't seem to think...... just can't figure out who he is."
"So he's irrelevant.... I mean, right? Surely Kevin Nash, one of the all time greats in the history of professional wrestling, would know anyone who is a big deal, right?"
"Oh absolutely. I saw just about everyone in the New Age grabbing that brass ring. I'd hate to brag but I've always had that eye. Hell, I remember once, Tiger Woods came to me, I must've hit the golfball 800 yards, and Tiger, he came up to me and says 'Nash, you're so good man, how do you get so good without practice?' Because you know Tiger right, alls he ever does is practice and practice and practice. So I had to let him down gently, you know, tell him not everyone can be legendary like Kevin Nash..."
"Absolutely, I love that story, by the way..."
"But you see, I knew that Triana, that Zak Shields, that Bob Cena, Joey the Bastard, you, I knew you guys were going to lead the company to new heights the world has never seen. I don't see that with FEAR, really...."
Troy looks into the camera and shrugs.
"Sorry FEAR, looks like you don't have what it takes. I'd take Kevin's word as gospel truth as well- this man knew when it was time to step down, when it was time to let the young guys have a go. This man is a legend, and he didn't tarnish that at all by staying for years like most guys do. He let the new generation lead the company. And yet.... while Nash tried to elevate the new gen, all of you geriatric f***s just clung to your spots. You held down people who could have sent this company into the stratosphere. Men who could've really padded Vince's pockets, because let's face it, that's all Vince cares about, isn't it? So now that that's all out of the way, bring your best, FEAR. ThyWWE2k15 preorder bonus? Give me a break. Welcome back, FEAR. Lesson 1: Don't f*** with the New Age."
