Post by Frank Windsor on Oct 18, 2019 15:53:34 GMT -5
"THE WINDSOR EFFECT"
"BEFORE"
So this was it. This was to be his return to greatness. This was Frank’s getting his big shot at being the best damn wrestler in the world. It all has to start somewhere right? We can’t all wake up on day and be signed to a six figure salary and main eventing pay per views. Even though some of the roster think they are better than their skill set lets on we all have a humble beginning. A point in our life when we decided we wanted to be a professional wrestler.
Come on, we all have those stories? Even a perfect specimen of male like Frank Windsor has a back story, skeletons in his closet. No pun intended.
Well let us take us back to the beginnings and then take it from there.
Frank had come a long way to be where he is right now. He had started off in some piss poor city in Yorkshire. His mother was a local lass that worked in the boozer and his father worked for one of the local mine companies. When he was a young kid, his doctors told his folks Frank had a problem, whatever the hell that means. Just because Frank liked to hit other kids he was trouble. It’s not as if there’s a lot else to do around where he lived. He could not remember this one time, his cousin and him were in the backyard one school holiday, and Frank dared his cousin to jump off the roof into a pile of dirt. Like it was Frank’s fault he went to hospital with a broken leg.
It wasn’t until High School that Frank discovered wrestling. But those assholes wouldn’t let him compete. Those arrogant wankers thought Frank should stay away from it just because he was short for my age. But to be honest it wasn’t like Frank had seen on television, but he still got in trouble. Frank once popped a lad’s shoulder out. And there was this time he was pissed off with this guy who had got in his face so he choked him with a headlock until he passed out.
But it’s not like you can find a job wrestling anywhere these days. He was out of juvie when Frank heard about this wrestling school in Blackpool where they teach you the stuff you see on television. So he stole His father’s car and drove down there and signed up. A lot of the guys there were pissed off ‘cos of Frank being from Yorkshire but he didn’t care less.
One day this dude showed up at the school, he worked for a big time wrestling promotion, he liked what he saw in Frank, and why wouldn’t he? Frank is great. He said he didn’t need a gimmick as Frank could just be himself. So he began training Frank personally, getting him ready for something big he said. It was awesome as Rob Riot was this household name for the wrestling marks as he’d wrestled big matches around the world.
After a few months he came to Frank with the news he’d got Frank his first gig, working for a local group who were running shows in Manchester. Wrestling every weekend as well as trying to keep up his day job was hard but it was fucking fun to be doing what he loved. There’s nothing better in life than the sound of a folding chair smacking into someone’s head. He’d done whatever it takes to get the win as he didn’t care how the job got done as long as it gets done. Eye gouges and low blows got him wins. Weapons get the job done quickly, especially if you didn’t get caught.
Weeks turned into months and that turned into a year. It was a big learning curve and eventually Rob came to Frank with an idea he’d had to take it to the next level. It was to be Frank’s last night wrestling for this company. This was to be his swan song. Rob and he was to face each other for the first time before he left for the big times with him; before he left for the fun that was Wrestle Wars, a new company from the States.
Rob Riot stood in the ring with Frank, “So you’ve sorted your basics in the ring but do you think you deserve a shot at the big times?” he said as he faced Frank as they were standing in a wrestling ring at some independent show in Manchester.
Frank couldn't believe that Rob had changed the stipulation of their match at the last minute. He stood in the ring with the referee clapping the cuffs to his wrists, annoyed all the more because he just knew the reasoning behind the switch in stip. As soon as Rob stepped foot through the ropes, Frank went for him, wasting no time in kicking him.
Soon however, Frank found himself face planted into the mat, his arms beginning to ache from being in bondage at the small of his back. Rob bent over him and with a snarl changed the stipulation once again, declaring the match to now be an 'I Quit match'. Rob went to wailing on the floored Yorkshire born wrestler, beating him with the bat in his hand, and repeatedly shoving the microphone into Frank's face.
"You think because you’re leaving that I’ll take it easy on you?” Rob shouted making sure the crowd took it in. “Say it, do you give up now?"
Frank panted, and growled. "No!"
Rob pummelled him more and dragged him to one corner, propping him into the turnbuckle.
"Why are you still wearing that merchandise?" Rob shouted, tearing Frank's shirt completely off. His hair fell into his face as Frank sank to the mat, the bits of his ripped shirt hanging limply around his wrists, hung up on the cuffs. Frank tried to cover himself up.
Moments later the whole match had spiralled out of control. The rest of locker room had all took up for opposite sides. The match ended with Rob walking back up the ramp, as the referee freed Frank from his bondage.
Frank was left in the ring, rubbing at his wrists, as he watched the referee stride back up the ramp. This was his last day here; he was going to this new international company and was going to make a name for himself out there. He was now moving onto the big time. Wrestle Wars had approached him with a contract after they’d tried to get Rob to sign but Rob had an idea in his head and away to elevate his flagging international career was born. Originally they’d wanted to team Rob with some clown called Whale Jones because Frank was an unknown but Rob had managed to get a compromise out of them by putting them together with another Brit that they’d signed but he’d yet to meet this guy.
With a shake of his head, Frank ducked out of the ring and took himself backstage, now more confused than ever. He plopped down onto the first thing he saw that he could use as a makeshift seat, just an overturned crate. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair which he meant to shave for his debut and shook his head, catching his breath.
He knew why Rob had done what he had done, though he was perhaps the only one. Rob wanted to push his protégé as he knew deep down that he was the real deal. It didn't seem to be enough that Frank knew Rob was the better wrestler, which he had for a long time flaunted in Frank's face—as if Frank cared. He was going to Wrestle Wars with Rob to improve his career, and one day he would prove to the world that he is going to be the best in the world.
What Rob had told Frank that he’d managed to get him into Wrestle Wars, a company not short of being involved in controversy but hiring Frank was going to be an eye opener for them. If they courted controversy then the character Frank was going to be portraying on their shows was going to be on a different level than anything they’ve ever seen.
Wrestle Wars didn’t know what they had done by signing what was going to become the biggest thing in professional wrestlers known simply as the Bastards. Joining Rob and Frank had been another wrestler that had been about the circuit called Billy Fowler. Frank had seen him on television when he’d wrestled for other companies but he’d never really fitted in with the group as he took things way to serious. It was like he had a stick constantly stuck up his ass but together they became the greatest trio in wrestling.
A professional wrestling promotion with television and pay per view rights, now that is what beckoned to Frank. He got his chance to wrestle the best in the business. He gets to showcase his god given talents I have to a wider audience.
A chance to be all he can be.
Finally collecting his wits, Frank got up to his feet and made his way to the dressing room. He opened the door and moved inside; peeling off layers of clothes as he went—although Rob had already helped him with his t-shirt. Wrestle Wars was going to be huge but it would only be Frank’s first step to greatness.
The soundman nodded as he followed Adrian Styles out of the door.
“I can’t believe I’ve been sent out here,” he muttered to himself not realising that they were live at the time. “I should be doing this from the Crow’s Nest and not outside in the freaking dark. I’ve got things to do and I’m saddled with this to do.”
They didn’t have to go far as they spotted a figure. The figure was just stood in the centre of the parking lot outside the arena. Darkness surrounded him, as he leaned against a chain link fence, with his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned into the fence a bit more and bounced off the fence to stand up straight and look directly into the camera that Adrian had brought with him. Only his eyes were visible.
Adrian just stood perfectly still next to him, grinding his teeth together and looking surprised at the figure.
“So I’ve been told by the boss to interview you for the website Frank,” Adrian started. “After tonight’s action what’s on the champion’s mind? What is the future for you when it comes to Global Championship Wrestling now you’re the World Heavyweight Championship?”
The man just stood, no expression in his eyes, as he neared the camera, until his upper body was the only thing seen. He was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of “THE FRANK WINDSOR” upon it. He sneered at the camera. He then turned to face the sky and spoke, as if speaking to the heavens above, or as if speaking to himself.
“Do you fucking know who I am for god’s sake?” Frank said. “I am not a fucking dried up Womble’s cunt like the illustrious fucking Robbie Riot. Oh come on Camera-Man don’t give me a fucking trout pout bitch and do your fucking job or I’ll get you fired.”
The Camera-Man tried to get him in focus as well as the two others stood next to him. It was Frank’s Alaskan girlfriend Natalia Santiago and his protégé Finn Corbyn. Frank looked into the camera’s lens and started.
“After what had fucking gone down earlier tonight you would be surprised to know that the management had actually talked me into making my fucking Global Championship Wrestling in ring wrestling debut on their next Onslaught show,” Frank said. “I had actually turned up here tonight and was due to be fucking interviewed backstage but had seen what had fucking gone down in the arena with those wrestlers earlier in the night and couldn’t fucking stand there and do nothing. People know that’s not how I fucking roll.”
Adrian looked confused but then it slowly dawned on him that this tirade didn’t have anything to do with him. He was just using the cameras to get his anger out to the world for what went down.
“Coming out there tonight and stealing your thunder was fucking priceless,” Frank said. “People that don’t know the company has been trying to sign me for a long fucking time; they’ve been negotiating with me for nearly six fucking months to come into the company. I am the hottest fucking free agent in the freaking industry and it didn’t hurt that I also had the GCW Hybrid Championship belt around my goddamn waist.”
He nodded and looked into the camera.
“So when I came back I was fucking promised a few things,” he said. “And the first of those was if I traded in goddamn my GCW Hybrid Championship belt I’d get a shot at the fucking champ. Oh right, I did that already Kintauru or whatever your fucking name is. Word from the back office is he’s hurt and out for a bit. Tough luck bro, but if you can’t hang with really fucking wrestlers then maybe taking a fucking break is the best thing for your fucking career, right? But that leaves me with the guy gunning for this belt; Rob Riot.”
He unclipped the GCW World Heavyweight Championship belt and threw it over his shoulder.
“We go back a long way don’t we Robbie,” Frank said. “I probably need to give some people a fucking history lesson of sorts Adrian, right?”
Adrian shrugged his shoulders and held the microphone up higher.
“Finally Frank fucking Windsor has made it to the GCW,” Frank said. “All those days on the road travelling together were fucking informative weren’t they Rob? It was on the road that I finally had the epiphany bitch; I finally worked it all out Robbie. I finally saw the real you. You are a fucking leach in this industry of ours aren’t you Robbie? Fowler had worked it out and that’s a fucking miracle on its own.”
Frank caressed the gold strap on his shoulder.
“Wrestle Wars was supposed to be my big fucking break,” Frank said. “I had sat in the back of the first fucking show of Wrestle Wars pilot show and had watched all the proceedings. It was fucking amazing to watch it all unfold. Even though there wasn’t a lot of people there for their freaking launch, you could feel the fucking buzz in the building as every match and every in ring promo went down. It was fucking amazing, how everyone worked with each other to make the best fucking product that could be done.”
He nodded as he got into his rant of sorts.
“And then the shit hit the fucking fan,” he said. “That was when the Bastards were formed. I was joining this family of like-minded wrestlers all out for the same fucking goal; or so I thought. You were using both me and Billy weren’t you Robbie. I don’t know why I couldn’t fucking see it then but since I’ve had time to think for myself I’ve seen what you are fucking like. Trying to fucking protect yourself as you were the goddamn star and I was the guy that protected our interests. I can’t fucking believe I fell for your bull shit Robbie but I was a naive fucking rookie trying to break into the industry.”
A smirk crossed his lips.
“I had some fucking success and becoming the Wrestle Wars tag champion with Billy was my sign of acceptance that the fucking company saw something in me but you managed to spoil that didn’t you Robbie,” Frank muttered. “Even though you were mincing about with your Wrestle Wars World Heavyweight Championship belt you wanted in with the fucking tag belts and decided to make the belts able to be defended by anyone in the faction under Bastard’s rules. Yes we did brilliant with them as we were the dogs bollocks but you couldn’t let either me or Fowler outshine you could you?”
He took the belt off of his shoulders and gazed at it.
“Fast forward to Riot Star Wrestling, the Rob Riot fucking vanity project,” he mumbled. “Wrestle Wars had gone out of business and you wanted to build a fucking promotion around you Robbie. You started it up as a way to fucking distance yourself from Fowler and myself. I cannot believe you tried to reinvent yourself without the Bastards but it fucking failed for you didn’t it? After a few months of shows you had alienated yourself from all of those people that had followed you in Wrestle Wars and had been eclipsed by the likes of Nocturnal, Morcant Davis and even some moron called Dylan Erickson. Your pity vanity project had backfired and smacked you straight in your fucking gob Robbie. So what did you do? You reached out to the thing that made you great; namely Fowler and myself.”
Frank polished the belts front plates before he handed it to Natalia to hold.
“We returned as a fucking unit of destruction and took Riot Star Wrestling by storm, “ he said. “Hell, we did so well that we had this fucking parody group mocking us for months before we destroyed them also. We were once again riding high but that was when the green eyed fucking monster showed once again. Didn’t it Robbie? With me being a World Champion finally there and Fowler managing to fucking bribe himself into being put in their Hall of Fame you were left behind. Oh boo fucking hoo! Pretending to be sitting in your office pencil pushing while you were probably knocking one off to the Ruby Walsh sex tape on Porn Hub right? And I surpassed you there in your own fucking promotion didn’t I?”
Finn smirked as Frank continued.
“You were fucking embarrassed weren’t you?” he said. “You felt left out of being the self-proclaimed man didn’t you? And your fucking embarrassment split the band; Fowler disappeared from wrestling for a while before returning one night hiding in the rafters in what we will call his Emo period. I won’t judge him for this call for help period of his life but when you saw the makeup wearing Crow-clone all I felt was fucking pity for him. He’d really been screwed over by Robbie that there was nowhere else he could go but right to the fucking bottom once again.”
Natalia put the belt over her shoulder.
“And me, what the fuck happened to my career?” he said. “You tried to sabotage my career by turning me into this homo fucking erotic sort that went around dressed like a fucking Elton John cosplayer with a bunch of fucking midgets as sidekicks. What the fuck was that all about? Robbie you thought that would break me didn’t you? But alas it fucking just made me stronger. But then the final nail in the fucking coffin; That anniversary show for Riot Star Wrestling where I was booked to fucking job in a triple threat with the three of us Bastards. What am I breaking Kayfabe or something talking like this?”
He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the camera.
“It should have been this Game of Throne’s like battle of the ages,” Frank muttered. “The three Bastards duking it out in the squared circle to show who the best of us was BUT you couldn’t let it go down to that could you Rob? No, you had to make sure we were onside so you couldn’t lose in what would be your last show on your vanity project before jumping ship to this place. So, I was booked to end the show looking up at the lights and you sailed away into the sunset with your fucking dignity intact. How’d you feel seeing me again today Robbie? Did you fucking piss yourself in panic? I think you’re one eyed friend Parsons think so.”
“He looks like a shaved penis,” Natalia said but Frank ignored her comment.
“Chris Parson,” Frank muttered. “Do you think that attaching yourself to Robbie will elevate you more in this industry? You were always this pitiful little fucker in Riot Star Wrestling who wanted to be the biggest wrestler on the planet but a lack of fucking talent hindered your chances. Is that how you want to live your best life? Nice for you but you’ve got to get over yourself as Frank fucking Windsor doesn’t give a rat’s ass who you’ve been selling your ass to but remember from our RSW days Robbie’s a bit partial to using that black dildo of his.”
A look of shock crossed Adrian’s face once again.
“Oh Frank can still shock people on the stick,” he said with a smile on his face. “I know I’ve fucking toned it down these last few years as I’ve wanted to be taken a bit more fucking serious and not as some fucking Yorkshire man who swears every other fucking word. I have moved with the fucking times and this week on Onslaught the team of Robbie Riot and your visually impaired, hetero life partner Chris Parson take on me and some random guy they’ve found to team with me. This is where I’m going to show the world what it’s like to be a fucking champion; but I digress, you two got matching ring attire now that you’re a team? Maybe just matching cunt harnesses?”
Adrian looked confused.
“Cunt harness, shit splitter, box hammock, a fucking G-String Adrian,” Frank said as he turned back to the camera. “You should know all about them as your mothers got hers so far up her ass its freaking dental floss. But anyway teaming me with this random punk that seems to be some moronic monster could be the biggest disaster or more likely the greatest thing that the GCW front office has done. They need to protect their investment and not let me get injured before their upcoming pay per view. They can’t fucking jeopardise that by having Robbie and his buddy jumping me out of spite for being their World Champion. That is probably why the front office has employed this mercenary of sorts as my bodyguard in this match. Tarrasque I believe he’s called but it doesn’t really matter what he’s called as long as he does his fucking job and protect me right?”
Frank took the belt back off of Natalia.
“Tarrasque is supposed to be this monster but had some fucking wanker controlling his every moves,” he said. “Sound familiar Robbie? I broke free of you much like this guy has done his controller so you and your penis look-a-like partner Parsons better be fucking ready to bring it otherwise you’ll end up wanting.”
He turned and looked at Adrian.
“That is all you are excused,” Frank said. “The fucking champ needs to get stuff done.”
The Camera-Man joined Adrian as they walked away from Frank and his entourage.
“That went quite well,” Natalia said as she leaned in and gave Frank a peck on the cheek. “Now you’ve brought it this first show; it is time for you to prove to everyone watching that you are the best in the world babe.”
“I bet you after this show this will be the number one highlight streamed on YouTube Frank,” Finn said. “They should know that you are the real deal. When you came out to the ring tonight me and Nat were backstage and there was this intake of breath when they realised it was you. You are going to be a force to be reckoned with champ!”
“As always Finn,” Frank muttered. “This is my time to shine out of the shadow of Robbie and Billy. Those two twats kept me down to further their careers and keep their spots but now it’s my time Finn. We’re going to do good things here. Now we need to go and find somewhere to get some food as I have noticed that catering here is fucking dire.”
Come on, we all have those stories? Even a perfect specimen of male like Frank Windsor has a back story, skeletons in his closet. No pun intended.
Well let us take us back to the beginnings and then take it from there.
Frank had come a long way to be where he is right now. He had started off in some piss poor city in Yorkshire. His mother was a local lass that worked in the boozer and his father worked for one of the local mine companies. When he was a young kid, his doctors told his folks Frank had a problem, whatever the hell that means. Just because Frank liked to hit other kids he was trouble. It’s not as if there’s a lot else to do around where he lived. He could not remember this one time, his cousin and him were in the backyard one school holiday, and Frank dared his cousin to jump off the roof into a pile of dirt. Like it was Frank’s fault he went to hospital with a broken leg.
It wasn’t until High School that Frank discovered wrestling. But those assholes wouldn’t let him compete. Those arrogant wankers thought Frank should stay away from it just because he was short for my age. But to be honest it wasn’t like Frank had seen on television, but he still got in trouble. Frank once popped a lad’s shoulder out. And there was this time he was pissed off with this guy who had got in his face so he choked him with a headlock until he passed out.
But it’s not like you can find a job wrestling anywhere these days. He was out of juvie when Frank heard about this wrestling school in Blackpool where they teach you the stuff you see on television. So he stole His father’s car and drove down there and signed up. A lot of the guys there were pissed off ‘cos of Frank being from Yorkshire but he didn’t care less.
One day this dude showed up at the school, he worked for a big time wrestling promotion, he liked what he saw in Frank, and why wouldn’t he? Frank is great. He said he didn’t need a gimmick as Frank could just be himself. So he began training Frank personally, getting him ready for something big he said. It was awesome as Rob Riot was this household name for the wrestling marks as he’d wrestled big matches around the world.
After a few months he came to Frank with the news he’d got Frank his first gig, working for a local group who were running shows in Manchester. Wrestling every weekend as well as trying to keep up his day job was hard but it was fucking fun to be doing what he loved. There’s nothing better in life than the sound of a folding chair smacking into someone’s head. He’d done whatever it takes to get the win as he didn’t care how the job got done as long as it gets done. Eye gouges and low blows got him wins. Weapons get the job done quickly, especially if you didn’t get caught.
Weeks turned into months and that turned into a year. It was a big learning curve and eventually Rob came to Frank with an idea he’d had to take it to the next level. It was to be Frank’s last night wrestling for this company. This was to be his swan song. Rob and he was to face each other for the first time before he left for the big times with him; before he left for the fun that was Wrestle Wars, a new company from the States.
Rob Riot stood in the ring with Frank, “So you’ve sorted your basics in the ring but do you think you deserve a shot at the big times?” he said as he faced Frank as they were standing in a wrestling ring at some independent show in Manchester.
Frank couldn't believe that Rob had changed the stipulation of their match at the last minute. He stood in the ring with the referee clapping the cuffs to his wrists, annoyed all the more because he just knew the reasoning behind the switch in stip. As soon as Rob stepped foot through the ropes, Frank went for him, wasting no time in kicking him.
Soon however, Frank found himself face planted into the mat, his arms beginning to ache from being in bondage at the small of his back. Rob bent over him and with a snarl changed the stipulation once again, declaring the match to now be an 'I Quit match'. Rob went to wailing on the floored Yorkshire born wrestler, beating him with the bat in his hand, and repeatedly shoving the microphone into Frank's face.
"You think because you’re leaving that I’ll take it easy on you?” Rob shouted making sure the crowd took it in. “Say it, do you give up now?"
Frank panted, and growled. "No!"
Rob pummelled him more and dragged him to one corner, propping him into the turnbuckle.
"Why are you still wearing that merchandise?" Rob shouted, tearing Frank's shirt completely off. His hair fell into his face as Frank sank to the mat, the bits of his ripped shirt hanging limply around his wrists, hung up on the cuffs. Frank tried to cover himself up.
Moments later the whole match had spiralled out of control. The rest of locker room had all took up for opposite sides. The match ended with Rob walking back up the ramp, as the referee freed Frank from his bondage.
Frank was left in the ring, rubbing at his wrists, as he watched the referee stride back up the ramp. This was his last day here; he was going to this new international company and was going to make a name for himself out there. He was now moving onto the big time. Wrestle Wars had approached him with a contract after they’d tried to get Rob to sign but Rob had an idea in his head and away to elevate his flagging international career was born. Originally they’d wanted to team Rob with some clown called Whale Jones because Frank was an unknown but Rob had managed to get a compromise out of them by putting them together with another Brit that they’d signed but he’d yet to meet this guy.
With a shake of his head, Frank ducked out of the ring and took himself backstage, now more confused than ever. He plopped down onto the first thing he saw that he could use as a makeshift seat, just an overturned crate. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair which he meant to shave for his debut and shook his head, catching his breath.
He knew why Rob had done what he had done, though he was perhaps the only one. Rob wanted to push his protégé as he knew deep down that he was the real deal. It didn't seem to be enough that Frank knew Rob was the better wrestler, which he had for a long time flaunted in Frank's face—as if Frank cared. He was going to Wrestle Wars with Rob to improve his career, and one day he would prove to the world that he is going to be the best in the world.
What Rob had told Frank that he’d managed to get him into Wrestle Wars, a company not short of being involved in controversy but hiring Frank was going to be an eye opener for them. If they courted controversy then the character Frank was going to be portraying on their shows was going to be on a different level than anything they’ve ever seen.
Wrestle Wars didn’t know what they had done by signing what was going to become the biggest thing in professional wrestlers known simply as the Bastards. Joining Rob and Frank had been another wrestler that had been about the circuit called Billy Fowler. Frank had seen him on television when he’d wrestled for other companies but he’d never really fitted in with the group as he took things way to serious. It was like he had a stick constantly stuck up his ass but together they became the greatest trio in wrestling.
A professional wrestling promotion with television and pay per view rights, now that is what beckoned to Frank. He got his chance to wrestle the best in the business. He gets to showcase his god given talents I have to a wider audience.
A chance to be all he can be.
Finally collecting his wits, Frank got up to his feet and made his way to the dressing room. He opened the door and moved inside; peeling off layers of clothes as he went—although Rob had already helped him with his t-shirt. Wrestle Wars was going to be huge but it would only be Frank’s first step to greatness.
NOW
The soundman nodded as he followed Adrian Styles out of the door.
“I can’t believe I’ve been sent out here,” he muttered to himself not realising that they were live at the time. “I should be doing this from the Crow’s Nest and not outside in the freaking dark. I’ve got things to do and I’m saddled with this to do.”
They didn’t have to go far as they spotted a figure. The figure was just stood in the centre of the parking lot outside the arena. Darkness surrounded him, as he leaned against a chain link fence, with his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned into the fence a bit more and bounced off the fence to stand up straight and look directly into the camera that Adrian had brought with him. Only his eyes were visible.
Adrian just stood perfectly still next to him, grinding his teeth together and looking surprised at the figure.
“So I’ve been told by the boss to interview you for the website Frank,” Adrian started. “After tonight’s action what’s on the champion’s mind? What is the future for you when it comes to Global Championship Wrestling now you’re the World Heavyweight Championship?”
The man just stood, no expression in his eyes, as he neared the camera, until his upper body was the only thing seen. He was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of “THE FRANK WINDSOR” upon it. He sneered at the camera. He then turned to face the sky and spoke, as if speaking to the heavens above, or as if speaking to himself.
“Do you fucking know who I am for god’s sake?” Frank said. “I am not a fucking dried up Womble’s cunt like the illustrious fucking Robbie Riot. Oh come on Camera-Man don’t give me a fucking trout pout bitch and do your fucking job or I’ll get you fired.”
The Camera-Man tried to get him in focus as well as the two others stood next to him. It was Frank’s Alaskan girlfriend Natalia Santiago and his protégé Finn Corbyn. Frank looked into the camera’s lens and started.
“After what had fucking gone down earlier tonight you would be surprised to know that the management had actually talked me into making my fucking Global Championship Wrestling in ring wrestling debut on their next Onslaught show,” Frank said. “I had actually turned up here tonight and was due to be fucking interviewed backstage but had seen what had fucking gone down in the arena with those wrestlers earlier in the night and couldn’t fucking stand there and do nothing. People know that’s not how I fucking roll.”
Adrian looked confused but then it slowly dawned on him that this tirade didn’t have anything to do with him. He was just using the cameras to get his anger out to the world for what went down.
“Coming out there tonight and stealing your thunder was fucking priceless,” Frank said. “People that don’t know the company has been trying to sign me for a long fucking time; they’ve been negotiating with me for nearly six fucking months to come into the company. I am the hottest fucking free agent in the freaking industry and it didn’t hurt that I also had the GCW Hybrid Championship belt around my goddamn waist.”
He nodded and looked into the camera.
“So when I came back I was fucking promised a few things,” he said. “And the first of those was if I traded in goddamn my GCW Hybrid Championship belt I’d get a shot at the fucking champ. Oh right, I did that already Kintauru or whatever your fucking name is. Word from the back office is he’s hurt and out for a bit. Tough luck bro, but if you can’t hang with really fucking wrestlers then maybe taking a fucking break is the best thing for your fucking career, right? But that leaves me with the guy gunning for this belt; Rob Riot.”
He unclipped the GCW World Heavyweight Championship belt and threw it over his shoulder.
“We go back a long way don’t we Robbie,” Frank said. “I probably need to give some people a fucking history lesson of sorts Adrian, right?”
Adrian shrugged his shoulders and held the microphone up higher.
“Finally Frank fucking Windsor has made it to the GCW,” Frank said. “All those days on the road travelling together were fucking informative weren’t they Rob? It was on the road that I finally had the epiphany bitch; I finally worked it all out Robbie. I finally saw the real you. You are a fucking leach in this industry of ours aren’t you Robbie? Fowler had worked it out and that’s a fucking miracle on its own.”
Frank caressed the gold strap on his shoulder.
“Wrestle Wars was supposed to be my big fucking break,” Frank said. “I had sat in the back of the first fucking show of Wrestle Wars pilot show and had watched all the proceedings. It was fucking amazing to watch it all unfold. Even though there wasn’t a lot of people there for their freaking launch, you could feel the fucking buzz in the building as every match and every in ring promo went down. It was fucking amazing, how everyone worked with each other to make the best fucking product that could be done.”
He nodded as he got into his rant of sorts.
“And then the shit hit the fucking fan,” he said. “That was when the Bastards were formed. I was joining this family of like-minded wrestlers all out for the same fucking goal; or so I thought. You were using both me and Billy weren’t you Robbie. I don’t know why I couldn’t fucking see it then but since I’ve had time to think for myself I’ve seen what you are fucking like. Trying to fucking protect yourself as you were the goddamn star and I was the guy that protected our interests. I can’t fucking believe I fell for your bull shit Robbie but I was a naive fucking rookie trying to break into the industry.”
A smirk crossed his lips.
“I had some fucking success and becoming the Wrestle Wars tag champion with Billy was my sign of acceptance that the fucking company saw something in me but you managed to spoil that didn’t you Robbie,” Frank muttered. “Even though you were mincing about with your Wrestle Wars World Heavyweight Championship belt you wanted in with the fucking tag belts and decided to make the belts able to be defended by anyone in the faction under Bastard’s rules. Yes we did brilliant with them as we were the dogs bollocks but you couldn’t let either me or Fowler outshine you could you?”
He took the belt off of his shoulders and gazed at it.
“Fast forward to Riot Star Wrestling, the Rob Riot fucking vanity project,” he mumbled. “Wrestle Wars had gone out of business and you wanted to build a fucking promotion around you Robbie. You started it up as a way to fucking distance yourself from Fowler and myself. I cannot believe you tried to reinvent yourself without the Bastards but it fucking failed for you didn’t it? After a few months of shows you had alienated yourself from all of those people that had followed you in Wrestle Wars and had been eclipsed by the likes of Nocturnal, Morcant Davis and even some moron called Dylan Erickson. Your pity vanity project had backfired and smacked you straight in your fucking gob Robbie. So what did you do? You reached out to the thing that made you great; namely Fowler and myself.”
Frank polished the belts front plates before he handed it to Natalia to hold.
“We returned as a fucking unit of destruction and took Riot Star Wrestling by storm, “ he said. “Hell, we did so well that we had this fucking parody group mocking us for months before we destroyed them also. We were once again riding high but that was when the green eyed fucking monster showed once again. Didn’t it Robbie? With me being a World Champion finally there and Fowler managing to fucking bribe himself into being put in their Hall of Fame you were left behind. Oh boo fucking hoo! Pretending to be sitting in your office pencil pushing while you were probably knocking one off to the Ruby Walsh sex tape on Porn Hub right? And I surpassed you there in your own fucking promotion didn’t I?”
Finn smirked as Frank continued.
“You were fucking embarrassed weren’t you?” he said. “You felt left out of being the self-proclaimed man didn’t you? And your fucking embarrassment split the band; Fowler disappeared from wrestling for a while before returning one night hiding in the rafters in what we will call his Emo period. I won’t judge him for this call for help period of his life but when you saw the makeup wearing Crow-clone all I felt was fucking pity for him. He’d really been screwed over by Robbie that there was nowhere else he could go but right to the fucking bottom once again.”
Natalia put the belt over her shoulder.
“And me, what the fuck happened to my career?” he said. “You tried to sabotage my career by turning me into this homo fucking erotic sort that went around dressed like a fucking Elton John cosplayer with a bunch of fucking midgets as sidekicks. What the fuck was that all about? Robbie you thought that would break me didn’t you? But alas it fucking just made me stronger. But then the final nail in the fucking coffin; That anniversary show for Riot Star Wrestling where I was booked to fucking job in a triple threat with the three of us Bastards. What am I breaking Kayfabe or something talking like this?”
He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the camera.
“It should have been this Game of Throne’s like battle of the ages,” Frank muttered. “The three Bastards duking it out in the squared circle to show who the best of us was BUT you couldn’t let it go down to that could you Rob? No, you had to make sure we were onside so you couldn’t lose in what would be your last show on your vanity project before jumping ship to this place. So, I was booked to end the show looking up at the lights and you sailed away into the sunset with your fucking dignity intact. How’d you feel seeing me again today Robbie? Did you fucking piss yourself in panic? I think you’re one eyed friend Parsons think so.”
“He looks like a shaved penis,” Natalia said but Frank ignored her comment.
“Chris Parson,” Frank muttered. “Do you think that attaching yourself to Robbie will elevate you more in this industry? You were always this pitiful little fucker in Riot Star Wrestling who wanted to be the biggest wrestler on the planet but a lack of fucking talent hindered your chances. Is that how you want to live your best life? Nice for you but you’ve got to get over yourself as Frank fucking Windsor doesn’t give a rat’s ass who you’ve been selling your ass to but remember from our RSW days Robbie’s a bit partial to using that black dildo of his.”
A look of shock crossed Adrian’s face once again.
“Oh Frank can still shock people on the stick,” he said with a smile on his face. “I know I’ve fucking toned it down these last few years as I’ve wanted to be taken a bit more fucking serious and not as some fucking Yorkshire man who swears every other fucking word. I have moved with the fucking times and this week on Onslaught the team of Robbie Riot and your visually impaired, hetero life partner Chris Parson take on me and some random guy they’ve found to team with me. This is where I’m going to show the world what it’s like to be a fucking champion; but I digress, you two got matching ring attire now that you’re a team? Maybe just matching cunt harnesses?”
Adrian looked confused.
“Cunt harness, shit splitter, box hammock, a fucking G-String Adrian,” Frank said as he turned back to the camera. “You should know all about them as your mothers got hers so far up her ass its freaking dental floss. But anyway teaming me with this random punk that seems to be some moronic monster could be the biggest disaster or more likely the greatest thing that the GCW front office has done. They need to protect their investment and not let me get injured before their upcoming pay per view. They can’t fucking jeopardise that by having Robbie and his buddy jumping me out of spite for being their World Champion. That is probably why the front office has employed this mercenary of sorts as my bodyguard in this match. Tarrasque I believe he’s called but it doesn’t really matter what he’s called as long as he does his fucking job and protect me right?”
Frank took the belt back off of Natalia.
“Tarrasque is supposed to be this monster but had some fucking wanker controlling his every moves,” he said. “Sound familiar Robbie? I broke free of you much like this guy has done his controller so you and your penis look-a-like partner Parsons better be fucking ready to bring it otherwise you’ll end up wanting.”
He turned and looked at Adrian.
“That is all you are excused,” Frank said. “The fucking champ needs to get stuff done.”
The Camera-Man joined Adrian as they walked away from Frank and his entourage.
“That went quite well,” Natalia said as she leaned in and gave Frank a peck on the cheek. “Now you’ve brought it this first show; it is time for you to prove to everyone watching that you are the best in the world babe.”
“I bet you after this show this will be the number one highlight streamed on YouTube Frank,” Finn said. “They should know that you are the real deal. When you came out to the ring tonight me and Nat were backstage and there was this intake of breath when they realised it was you. You are going to be a force to be reckoned with champ!”
“As always Finn,” Frank muttered. “This is my time to shine out of the shadow of Robbie and Billy. Those two twats kept me down to further their careers and keep their spots but now it’s my time Finn. We’re going to do good things here. Now we need to go and find somewhere to get some food as I have noticed that catering here is fucking dire.”