Post by The King on Mar 29, 2018 18:44:13 GMT -5
WORLD WAR III::..
22/03/18::..
I head to the back after my humiliating elimination by AWF's own, Hyperion. I hang my head in shame as I slowly walk up the ramp, the fans going crazy about what's currently happening in the ring. I don't wait for Bobby, for I'm really angry and upset, instead I just make my own way back through the curtains and to Gorilla. I watch on a monitor as the AWF Champion, my mentor, is then thrown over the top rope by Hyperion, aswell. I shake my head, full of rage and anger, and wait for him to come back, we need to have a word. After a little while of waiting, he finally emerges through the curtains, just as visibly pissed as I am. I walk on up to him, ready to swing with a punch, to show him that I'm never to be messed with again, but stop, and consider my actions.
Bobby Barratt: Now's not the right time, Swann.
I shake my head, a ball of fire ready to spit right out of my mouth.
Brad Swann: And throwing me in his way was the right thing to do, Bobby?!
I shout, my voice full of despair and lust. He looks at me, in total shock, for this is the first time I've really ever stood up to him. He looks at me in disgust, before smirking, realizing the intensity he's brought on out of me. He loves it.
Bobby Barratt: Oh Swann, these things happen mate. I thought the plan would work, it didn't. That's not my fault, you know?
I shake my head, he thinks this is a fucking joke. It's not. I'm super pissed.
Brad Swann: I thought you entered the battle royal to help me out?! To help me win it! That was the plan! Instead you went into business all by yourself! Tonight was meant to be MY night, man! But you turned it into yours!
Bobby laughs right in my face, he points his finger at my chest.
Bobby Barratt: Look, kid. I'm the star. Not you. Learn your fucking place. If I want to go into business by myself, I'll go into business by myself. You're the Protege, I'm the Prodigy. That's how the ball rolls. You don't understand that? Then get the fuck out of the Icons.
Swann's face drops, he just so wants to punch Barratt in the jaw right now, and as hard as he can. But he doesn't want to leave the Icons, this is the only family he has, the only friends he has, he can't leave. He lowers his head in shame.
Brad Swann: F- Fine. I- I'm sorry.
Barratt barges past his protege, shoulder barging him as he goes. Swann doesn't turn around to face his mentor, instead he carries on staring at the monitor. At Curtis D. Kanyon, winning the match, he was meant to have won.
IN THE CAR (ON HIS WAY HOME)::..
I head to the back after my humiliating elimination by AWF's own, Hyperion. I hang my head in shame as I slowly walk up the ramp, the fans going crazy about what's currently happening in the ring. I don't wait for Bobby, for I'm really angry and upset, instead I just make my own way back through the curtains and to Gorilla. I watch on a monitor as the AWF Champion, my mentor, is then thrown over the top rope by Hyperion, aswell. I shake my head, full of rage and anger, and wait for him to come back, we need to have a word. After a little while of waiting, he finally emerges through the curtains, just as visibly pissed as I am. I walk on up to him, ready to swing with a punch, to show him that I'm never to be messed with again, but stop, and consider my actions.
Bobby Barratt: Now's not the right time, Swann.
I shake my head, a ball of fire ready to spit right out of my mouth.
Brad Swann: And throwing me in his way was the right thing to do, Bobby?!
I shout, my voice full of despair and lust. He looks at me, in total shock, for this is the first time I've really ever stood up to him. He looks at me in disgust, before smirking, realizing the intensity he's brought on out of me. He loves it.
Bobby Barratt: Oh Swann, these things happen mate. I thought the plan would work, it didn't. That's not my fault, you know?
I shake my head, he thinks this is a fucking joke. It's not. I'm super pissed.
Brad Swann: I thought you entered the battle royal to help me out?! To help me win it! That was the plan! Instead you went into business all by yourself! Tonight was meant to be MY night, man! But you turned it into yours!
Bobby laughs right in my face, he points his finger at my chest.
Bobby Barratt: Look, kid. I'm the star. Not you. Learn your fucking place. If I want to go into business by myself, I'll go into business by myself. You're the Protege, I'm the Prodigy. That's how the ball rolls. You don't understand that? Then get the fuck out of the Icons.
Swann's face drops, he just so wants to punch Barratt in the jaw right now, and as hard as he can. But he doesn't want to leave the Icons, this is the only family he has, the only friends he has, he can't leave. He lowers his head in shame.
Brad Swann: F- Fine. I- I'm sorry.
Barratt barges past his protege, shoulder barging him as he goes. Swann doesn't turn around to face his mentor, instead he carries on staring at the monitor. At Curtis D. Kanyon, winning the match, he was meant to have won.
IN THE CAR (ON HIS WAY HOME)::..
22/03/18::..
I'm driving on my way home, the selfishness and arrogance of my mentor not leaving my head, like a headache that latches onto attention. I try and forget our little argument beforehand, but it's of no good use, it's really pissed me off. I turn the radio up, hoping the music will distract my aching mind, but no, still the thoughts remain. I slam my foot on the pedal, driving at quite a considerable rate down the motorway, it's pitch black outside, barely a whisper in the wind. Yet, through this silence there's a defining noise, the noise of Barratt sacrificing me to Hyperion. The noise of Barratt... An enemy.
TWO DAYS LATER::..
24/03/18::..
I look down upon my phone and see a notification, I've been emailed the new card. I open it up and to my disappointment, or excitement, I see that I'm facing the Anonymous Assault Champion himself, I'm facing James Raymond. I put the phone back down and kick my legs up on the leather sofa, here at my Nan's house. I get myself comfortable before realizing, I AM FACING THE ANONYMOUS ASSAULT CHAMPION HIMSELF, I'M FACING JAMES RAYMOND. I quickly pull out my phone once more and open the card back up, and to my ultimate disappointment, find it to be a non-title match. I throw my phone away to get the trash on the screen away from my eyes, I feel offended. I feel as though they've looked down on me, they don't think I'm championship worthy. I'll fucking show them. I've had enough of this reject company, and this fucking V. It's time I proved to them I AM championship material, and to do tha-
-I stop, consider the opportunity that this company has just handed me...
...And to do that I need to beat the champion. Make a fucking mockery of their champion in James Raymond! Show that even Brad Swann can beat him! This is it. This is MY moment! No Bobby Barratt to steal the rug from beneath my feet! It's all about Swann! ME! BRAD SWANN! THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE! No more second fiddle, I'll be the limelight of this federation! No more Protege, for now, I see fit to be called an Icon. Whether Barratt perceives me in that way is up to him, but from here on out, I'm no longer playing any games. This is the time of Brad Swann... And Brad Swann ONLY.
A second vibration from my phone, halfway across the room. I stand up and walk over to it, picking it up and to my surprise seeing a text from my mentor, Bobby Barratt. It reads that he liked the fire he saw from me at World War III, he wants more of it. Hang on, there's more. He's gone on to talk about a tag team. Me and... Him? The Prodigy and the Protege he calls it. B- but I am no longer the Protege. Then I remember, only in my eyes am I not still. He goes on to talk about how Maverick, another Icon stablemate, has set up a tag team with... JAMES RAYMOND. M- my opponent for Anonymous Assault. How he's called any team out, and Barratt wants to put him in his place, take his spot in the tag team rankings, and help prove to the world why Swann and Barratt are truly... Icons... But now I'm confused, am I official? Am I, Brad Swann, an official Icon member? Or does Bobby still perceive me as his young, naive protege? It makes no sense.
I message him back, accepting the offer and telling him about my match at Anonymous Assault. I tell him who I'm facing. His reply seems rather excited, he tells me to get the upper-hand on him, beat him to a pulp so hard that he can barely walk, become the New Age Killer that they pretend to be. I ask him if he'll be in my corner, but I get an immediate no. He tells me to face this alone. He tells me to shine. Making up for WW3, I suppose? I put the phone back down and kick my feet back onto the sofa.
This IS the time of Brad Swann. Barratt will just become a pawn in my game. Raymond, a victim to my name.
See you at Anonymous Assault, I proclaim.
I'm driving on my way home, the selfishness and arrogance of my mentor not leaving my head, like a headache that latches onto attention. I try and forget our little argument beforehand, but it's of no good use, it's really pissed me off. I turn the radio up, hoping the music will distract my aching mind, but no, still the thoughts remain. I slam my foot on the pedal, driving at quite a considerable rate down the motorway, it's pitch black outside, barely a whisper in the wind. Yet, through this silence there's a defining noise, the noise of Barratt sacrificing me to Hyperion. The noise of Barratt... An enemy.
TWO DAYS LATER::..
24/03/18::..
I look down upon my phone and see a notification, I've been emailed the new card. I open it up and to my disappointment, or excitement, I see that I'm facing the Anonymous Assault Champion himself, I'm facing James Raymond. I put the phone back down and kick my legs up on the leather sofa, here at my Nan's house. I get myself comfortable before realizing, I AM FACING THE ANONYMOUS ASSAULT CHAMPION HIMSELF, I'M FACING JAMES RAYMOND. I quickly pull out my phone once more and open the card back up, and to my ultimate disappointment, find it to be a non-title match. I throw my phone away to get the trash on the screen away from my eyes, I feel offended. I feel as though they've looked down on me, they don't think I'm championship worthy. I'll fucking show them. I've had enough of this reject company, and this fucking V. It's time I proved to them I AM championship material, and to do tha-
-I stop, consider the opportunity that this company has just handed me...
...And to do that I need to beat the champion. Make a fucking mockery of their champion in James Raymond! Show that even Brad Swann can beat him! This is it. This is MY moment! No Bobby Barratt to steal the rug from beneath my feet! It's all about Swann! ME! BRAD SWANN! THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE! No more second fiddle, I'll be the limelight of this federation! No more Protege, for now, I see fit to be called an Icon. Whether Barratt perceives me in that way is up to him, but from here on out, I'm no longer playing any games. This is the time of Brad Swann... And Brad Swann ONLY.
A second vibration from my phone, halfway across the room. I stand up and walk over to it, picking it up and to my surprise seeing a text from my mentor, Bobby Barratt. It reads that he liked the fire he saw from me at World War III, he wants more of it. Hang on, there's more. He's gone on to talk about a tag team. Me and... Him? The Prodigy and the Protege he calls it. B- but I am no longer the Protege. Then I remember, only in my eyes am I not still. He goes on to talk about how Maverick, another Icon stablemate, has set up a tag team with... JAMES RAYMOND. M- my opponent for Anonymous Assault. How he's called any team out, and Barratt wants to put him in his place, take his spot in the tag team rankings, and help prove to the world why Swann and Barratt are truly... Icons... But now I'm confused, am I official? Am I, Brad Swann, an official Icon member? Or does Bobby still perceive me as his young, naive protege? It makes no sense.
I message him back, accepting the offer and telling him about my match at Anonymous Assault. I tell him who I'm facing. His reply seems rather excited, he tells me to get the upper-hand on him, beat him to a pulp so hard that he can barely walk, become the New Age Killer that they pretend to be. I ask him if he'll be in my corner, but I get an immediate no. He tells me to face this alone. He tells me to shine. Making up for WW3, I suppose? I put the phone back down and kick my feet back onto the sofa.
This IS the time of Brad Swann. Barratt will just become a pawn in my game. Raymond, a victim to my name.
See you at Anonymous Assault, I proclaim.