Post by Dave D-Flipz on Apr 4, 2020 22:03:57 GMT -5
*We open up in a hotel room. Again. Quarantine and all. The weather outside the window is gray and dreary … how British … shots fired? … We see Death Trap sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He brushes the hair back on his head and reclines back on his hands on the bed. With his right hand he grabs a remote and clicks a button. The TV comes to life. We see a familiar site for the people of MCCW at this point.
*The camera turns around and we see DT taking the whole scene in. We don’t know which match he is watching but he is obviously not just studying the matches to see where he went wrong or right. The music still pours out of the TV.*
"I'm paranoid, and sick of this world's misconception of things I did. My language poured across this wrist in a metaphoric disaster. My guess, I'm missing out the punchline, unless this hanging noose is fitted to be all mine. I stood by everything I loved, while you never understood me much..."
*DT looks away seemingly deep in thought.*
"Cuz there's only one ... of me. And too many of you, fighting over nothing. There's never enough cool for everyone and before you know it you're selling out to be in."
*He pauses the TV again and flops backwards onto the bed. He stares at the ceiling again before realizing he has left his phone camera on. The one we are looking at him through.*
: It’s always the hard sell isn’t it? These vignettes we do to the camera, these matches we have. We are all in some way just out to sell our vision, our version of ourselves aren’t we? Every action we take with the camera watching. Any time we know it’s there … you can’t really know if what you are seeing is the real us or just the version we want you to buy at any given time. The only time you really know is when you get those odd stolen footage clips where it seems to be we don’t know some XHF bastard is filming us in the name of the almighty Mongoloid the Destroyer. Or when someone fucks up. And fucks up hard at that. Hi, Steve Awesome. Reality TV is the pits isn’t it?
*He kips up off the bed … kind of, it’s a bed and elevated so not really impressive … he’s 40 give him a break*
: It’s the single toughest thing for us as wrestlers to do is sell ourselves to you the fans. To make you love or hate us, to make you care. We put on personas and gather nicknames and do crazy shit all to sell ourselves as worthy of your attention. And that of our colleagues and higher ups. There are some who can dazzle with the in ring talent and that drives them to success, others get to the top using nothing but their appeals to the crowd, the salesmen among us. And I look back at my career and I see the intricacies of my character and who I was and who I am. Or rather the lack thereof. Looking back through the archives … I didn’t really have a sense of self. I was all over the place just trying to be something, trying to get that spotlight on me and only me. In ECF I debuted after failing out of the minor leagues for professional baseball. I was cut, svelte, and not very talented. I made people care with over the top theatrics with my bat and a new theme song every other week. I was a high flier … go figure.
*He looks down at his considerable bulk now. Yes the abs are … of course there … and amazing … but he is bulky, stocky, a sturdier build, embracing his age and the soon to come dad bod. He pats his abs and smirks*
: Maybe I could still … no no stop it DT … no delusions, stick to what you know. The point is I had to learn. By the time I was International champion and beating Magnus for that belt … I was the Master of Puppets. And the fans loved me. I rose through the ranks based on that love. And then I was the hero of ECF stopping Harry from poisoning his own creation. By that time I’d adopted using a power game. I was ripped out of my mind. And it went to my head. My sense of who I was faltered. I got jealous of the fans resonating with Gravedigger more. I forgot how to sell myself. And then the XHF Takeover. There aren’t many who would call my initial run here a success. The fans here hated me as an invader. And it went to my head. I forgot that the point was to get people to care, to want to see me rise or fall. I basically just shouted and threatened people for a while. And somehow … I got people to HATE me. I was in the darkest place of my career when I won the World Title. I was on a one man crusade to destroy Mongo Corp … whom everyone hated … and yet they rooted for HIM! I somehow got everyone to care enough to want me dead even at the expense of cheering Mongo! I mean it’s fucking Mongo! Nobody likes Mongo. Not even Mongo. I mean they like him when he grants them a match where 8 men can pin one man to become octochamps … no I haven’t forgotten Mongo. The heat was real man.
*DT walks to the window of his room and peaks out at the view of … a parking lot. Outside is his blue corvette. Clearly this vignette was filmed before the one driving into the heart of Manchester and before his surprising appearance in the main event of SWAT Battleground. You should all go read that show btw.*
: The point is … I was paranoid. I couldn’t see the fact that I somehow managed to make bank on the hard sell. The people bought into me. I was the hated champ everyone wanted to see fall. As it turns out … I’ve always been good at selling me, even when it wasn’t the real ‘me’ I was actually trying to sell you. I used to make people buy into Death Trap. I even made people buy into a DT who was literally parodying a rival. Most everyone in XHF Network old and new … they know me as Death Trap, the Main Attraction. That’s just who I am. It’s always been me. No. I took up this nickname as a way to piss off the man I was trying to destroy … Venom. He was the world champ, the ‘main event’. And in the build up to that final showdown where he put me down ... I tried to outsell Venom. I became the Main Attraction to spite him. And lo and behold but I sold it. Nobody questioned afterward when I decided this was the real me showing through. From that spite was born my first REAL self-realization. The Main Attraction, this cocky, spotlight hogging, showboat … was the first true shred of me that came through. I mean I still alienated everyone.
*He shrugs and shakes his head and steps away from the window*
: The fact of the matter is … I became the main attraction for real. In 2006 I entered number 15 in the rumble and lasted until the final 2. I have tasted near victory before. And the fans wanted me to have it. I had come back and won them over. I repeat … I … know how to make the hard sell. And I didn’t even really know who I was supposed to be. I sold so many versions and variations on myself. Which is why when I finally was able to return to the ring it became my theme, my calling card. Over the time away from XHF I finally honed in on what worked for me, I finally became myself. The Death Trap who debuted last year in MCCW is the first time I’ve been honest with myself in that ring. You’ll notice I cut the fat, got rid of the power moves that I couldn’t support a long match with, I ditched the high flying attempts that would hurt my already messed up head. I honed in on what I did best. Using my martial arts prowess to strike and reverse people with a minimal expenditure of energy on my part, using my submissions to drain the life out of foes and give myself the advantage, using my unparalleled endurance and stamina to out last anyone … and soaking in the adoration of the crowd… being the main attraction on any card I was on. Look I don’t take credit for making MCCW as impressive as it is, we have some damn fine wrestlers including some legends from other areas. Myself and Nelly, Swann, Raiden, Jason Justice. We have guys trained by legends like Leon Chant and Jay Carter. But I will say I help keep the butts in the seats. The people come out to see me, Death Trap sells out arenas. And I’ve done it this time around without selling out who I am. I’m selling you all … me … Dave … the guy who just wanted to entertain and be in the brightest of lights on the biggest of stages. And after all this time, all these years … I’ve never felt more in tune with myself. And that … makes me dangerous.
*He rewinds the tape and replays the entrance letting the song blast at volume for the camera*
: One thing I take away from looking back at my career … is I truly did stand by everything I loved. And so many people misunderstood me. I loved the sound of the crowd. Enough that when they booed me I would just say things to bring it down louder. They didn’t understand I thrived on their participation. Which is why toward the end when I got complacent, in a malaise … people would tell me I was boring. People would say I was too long winded, didn’t have anything worth saying. I poured my heart into my promos in a metaphorical and literal disasterpiece. And I had to step away. Because I wasn’t being understood. I loved this sport so much that I had to step away and get right. I had to free the real me. And so I sunk alone into depression and head trauma side effects. But I stand by this sport. And that’s why I had to come back. I had to stand … by what I loved. I had to give my everything and pour my heart and soul out in front of these fans. I had to show everyone that DT never quit, he never gave up, he never sold out. He simply … got lost within himself.
*He turns off the TV and points to his head*
: For years I was alone in here. I couldn’t free the real me. For years there was only one of me, fighting so many of my demons, and the trauma of my career, of my stupid choices in making that hard sell. Michael Storm loves to talk about his 52 seconds in hell. He loves to talk about his fight from hell and back and his desire to bring that pain to everyone else. He praises himself and his viciousness. He praises the monster within him that he became. He holds himself the victor when fate held the shovel to his grave. I guess I missed the punchline because that is a funny joke. He lost himself, he is dead and buried. What you see now isn’t the real Michael Storm, it’s a shell of a man who sold his soul to be in, to be cool, to be something he thought he needed to be to have value. He couldn’t make the hard sell, so he had to sell out to try again. He looked deep within himself and he hated what he saw. So he left himself on the operating table, and he decided to play God and try to end careers. All under the guise of making others suffer like he did, all for what end? His façade fell the minute he got his ass kicked. Some of us Michael … had to fight for literal years to reclaim our senses. To become ourselves again. You were “dead” for 52 seconds and in a coma for a few months. I was losing my mind for years. I was lost and alone in my own head for years. Hell you somehow managed to win a match I was in when I first started to see clearly for the first time. You had a truly harrowing ordeal … and it broke you. I had a decade of being lost in a fog, fighting alone while the XHF Network rose. And I found myself. I came out of it a better man, you came out of it a broken man.
*He sits on the bed*
: There’s only one … of me. One man standing by everything he loves. Standing by the good in this business. The fun, the fans, the spotlight, the entertainment. Fighting from less than nothing and clawing back. Finding myself again. And once again making the hard sell. Believe in me. Believe in DT. I’ve been gone a while. You saw me grocery shop at Home Depot and lose a match to a man in a coma, but trust in me. I’m back. The real me. Better than ever. Follow me as I help put a new company on the map. Allow me to show you this place where talent resides you may not know is here. And within a few months I had sold myself to everyone again. Within a year I was winning global tournaments. I made good on my promises. And so people can continue to trust in me when I have to make that hard sell again. Like in this rumble. I’ve been here before. Before I was my best self. In 2006 I was inches away from winning. Now I have a clear strategy in mind. Now I have a better sense of self. And I have the right attitude. There’s only one of me … but there’s too many of you, fighting over nothing. There’s never enough for everyone. And while you all sell out … I will again make the hard sell. I will again have the crowd chanting my name. I will again be the main attraction lighting up the night. Because nobody can sell themselves like DT can. Though I admit there are a few who certainly try. I haven’t forgot about you Ratty…. Or you Caffrey … but for now … there’s one more zealot self-promoting madman I need to talk … to … first …
*He looks out the window again and grabs his keys. He heads to the door to go drive into the city.*
: After all … he is keeping my crown warm for me.
Aleister Mayfield: And entering next, at 260 pounds, from Seattle, Washington – he is the 2019 End of Days winner … DEATH TRAP!
*The haunting vocal intro for "The Hard Sell" by Coheed and Cambria hits the speakers and the lights dim and blue and gold spotlights strobe around the arena. The XtremeTron lights up with a familiar theme as it reads, "Main Attraction ... Showing Once Again" A foot shatters the screen and we cut to images from DT's matches in MCCW against the likes of Nelly Angel, Weaselpop, and Eichi Yamaguchi. The first verse sets in as the screen shows DT landing on the floor of the arena and being handed the MCCW World title.
*The haunting vocal intro for "The Hard Sell" by Coheed and Cambria hits the speakers and the lights dim and blue and gold spotlights strobe around the arena. The XtremeTron lights up with a familiar theme as it reads, "Main Attraction ... Showing Once Again" A foot shatters the screen and we cut to images from DT's matches in MCCW against the likes of Nelly Angel, Weaselpop, and Eichi Yamaguchi. The first verse sets in as the screen shows DT landing on the floor of the arena and being handed the MCCW World title.
*The camera turns around and we see DT taking the whole scene in. We don’t know which match he is watching but he is obviously not just studying the matches to see where he went wrong or right. The music still pours out of the TV.*
"I'm paranoid, and sick of this world's misconception of things I did. My language poured across this wrist in a metaphoric disaster. My guess, I'm missing out the punchline, unless this hanging noose is fitted to be all mine. I stood by everything I loved, while you never understood me much..."
*DT looks away seemingly deep in thought.*
"Cuz there's only one ... of me. And too many of you, fighting over nothing. There's never enough cool for everyone and before you know it you're selling out to be in."
*He pauses the TV again and flops backwards onto the bed. He stares at the ceiling again before realizing he has left his phone camera on. The one we are looking at him through.*
: It’s always the hard sell isn’t it? These vignettes we do to the camera, these matches we have. We are all in some way just out to sell our vision, our version of ourselves aren’t we? Every action we take with the camera watching. Any time we know it’s there … you can’t really know if what you are seeing is the real us or just the version we want you to buy at any given time. The only time you really know is when you get those odd stolen footage clips where it seems to be we don’t know some XHF bastard is filming us in the name of the almighty Mongoloid the Destroyer. Or when someone fucks up. And fucks up hard at that. Hi, Steve Awesome. Reality TV is the pits isn’t it?*He kips up off the bed … kind of, it’s a bed and elevated so not really impressive … he’s 40 give him a break*
: It’s the single toughest thing for us as wrestlers to do is sell ourselves to you the fans. To make you love or hate us, to make you care. We put on personas and gather nicknames and do crazy shit all to sell ourselves as worthy of your attention. And that of our colleagues and higher ups. There are some who can dazzle with the in ring talent and that drives them to success, others get to the top using nothing but their appeals to the crowd, the salesmen among us. And I look back at my career and I see the intricacies of my character and who I was and who I am. Or rather the lack thereof. Looking back through the archives … I didn’t really have a sense of self. I was all over the place just trying to be something, trying to get that spotlight on me and only me. In ECF I debuted after failing out of the minor leagues for professional baseball. I was cut, svelte, and not very talented. I made people care with over the top theatrics with my bat and a new theme song every other week. I was a high flier … go figure.*He looks down at his considerable bulk now. Yes the abs are … of course there … and amazing … but he is bulky, stocky, a sturdier build, embracing his age and the soon to come dad bod. He pats his abs and smirks*
: Maybe I could still … no no stop it DT … no delusions, stick to what you know. The point is I had to learn. By the time I was International champion and beating Magnus for that belt … I was the Master of Puppets. And the fans loved me. I rose through the ranks based on that love. And then I was the hero of ECF stopping Harry from poisoning his own creation. By that time I’d adopted using a power game. I was ripped out of my mind. And it went to my head. My sense of who I was faltered. I got jealous of the fans resonating with Gravedigger more. I forgot how to sell myself. And then the XHF Takeover. There aren’t many who would call my initial run here a success. The fans here hated me as an invader. And it went to my head. I forgot that the point was to get people to care, to want to see me rise or fall. I basically just shouted and threatened people for a while. And somehow … I got people to HATE me. I was in the darkest place of my career when I won the World Title. I was on a one man crusade to destroy Mongo Corp … whom everyone hated … and yet they rooted for HIM! I somehow got everyone to care enough to want me dead even at the expense of cheering Mongo! I mean it’s fucking Mongo! Nobody likes Mongo. Not even Mongo. I mean they like him when he grants them a match where 8 men can pin one man to become octochamps … no I haven’t forgotten Mongo. The heat was real man.*DT walks to the window of his room and peaks out at the view of … a parking lot. Outside is his blue corvette. Clearly this vignette was filmed before the one driving into the heart of Manchester and before his surprising appearance in the main event of SWAT Battleground. You should all go read that show btw.*
: The point is … I was paranoid. I couldn’t see the fact that I somehow managed to make bank on the hard sell. The people bought into me. I was the hated champ everyone wanted to see fall. As it turns out … I’ve always been good at selling me, even when it wasn’t the real ‘me’ I was actually trying to sell you. I used to make people buy into Death Trap. I even made people buy into a DT who was literally parodying a rival. Most everyone in XHF Network old and new … they know me as Death Trap, the Main Attraction. That’s just who I am. It’s always been me. No. I took up this nickname as a way to piss off the man I was trying to destroy … Venom. He was the world champ, the ‘main event’. And in the build up to that final showdown where he put me down ... I tried to outsell Venom. I became the Main Attraction to spite him. And lo and behold but I sold it. Nobody questioned afterward when I decided this was the real me showing through. From that spite was born my first REAL self-realization. The Main Attraction, this cocky, spotlight hogging, showboat … was the first true shred of me that came through. I mean I still alienated everyone.*He shrugs and shakes his head and steps away from the window*
: The fact of the matter is … I became the main attraction for real. In 2006 I entered number 15 in the rumble and lasted until the final 2. I have tasted near victory before. And the fans wanted me to have it. I had come back and won them over. I repeat … I … know how to make the hard sell. And I didn’t even really know who I was supposed to be. I sold so many versions and variations on myself. Which is why when I finally was able to return to the ring it became my theme, my calling card. Over the time away from XHF I finally honed in on what worked for me, I finally became myself. The Death Trap who debuted last year in MCCW is the first time I’ve been honest with myself in that ring. You’ll notice I cut the fat, got rid of the power moves that I couldn’t support a long match with, I ditched the high flying attempts that would hurt my already messed up head. I honed in on what I did best. Using my martial arts prowess to strike and reverse people with a minimal expenditure of energy on my part, using my submissions to drain the life out of foes and give myself the advantage, using my unparalleled endurance and stamina to out last anyone … and soaking in the adoration of the crowd… being the main attraction on any card I was on. Look I don’t take credit for making MCCW as impressive as it is, we have some damn fine wrestlers including some legends from other areas. Myself and Nelly, Swann, Raiden, Jason Justice. We have guys trained by legends like Leon Chant and Jay Carter. But I will say I help keep the butts in the seats. The people come out to see me, Death Trap sells out arenas. And I’ve done it this time around without selling out who I am. I’m selling you all … me … Dave … the guy who just wanted to entertain and be in the brightest of lights on the biggest of stages. And after all this time, all these years … I’ve never felt more in tune with myself. And that … makes me dangerous.*He rewinds the tape and replays the entrance letting the song blast at volume for the camera*
: One thing I take away from looking back at my career … is I truly did stand by everything I loved. And so many people misunderstood me. I loved the sound of the crowd. Enough that when they booed me I would just say things to bring it down louder. They didn’t understand I thrived on their participation. Which is why toward the end when I got complacent, in a malaise … people would tell me I was boring. People would say I was too long winded, didn’t have anything worth saying. I poured my heart into my promos in a metaphorical and literal disasterpiece. And I had to step away. Because I wasn’t being understood. I loved this sport so much that I had to step away and get right. I had to free the real me. And so I sunk alone into depression and head trauma side effects. But I stand by this sport. And that’s why I had to come back. I had to stand … by what I loved. I had to give my everything and pour my heart and soul out in front of these fans. I had to show everyone that DT never quit, he never gave up, he never sold out. He simply … got lost within himself.*He turns off the TV and points to his head*
: For years I was alone in here. I couldn’t free the real me. For years there was only one of me, fighting so many of my demons, and the trauma of my career, of my stupid choices in making that hard sell. Michael Storm loves to talk about his 52 seconds in hell. He loves to talk about his fight from hell and back and his desire to bring that pain to everyone else. He praises himself and his viciousness. He praises the monster within him that he became. He holds himself the victor when fate held the shovel to his grave. I guess I missed the punchline because that is a funny joke. He lost himself, he is dead and buried. What you see now isn’t the real Michael Storm, it’s a shell of a man who sold his soul to be in, to be cool, to be something he thought he needed to be to have value. He couldn’t make the hard sell, so he had to sell out to try again. He looked deep within himself and he hated what he saw. So he left himself on the operating table, and he decided to play God and try to end careers. All under the guise of making others suffer like he did, all for what end? His façade fell the minute he got his ass kicked. Some of us Michael … had to fight for literal years to reclaim our senses. To become ourselves again. You were “dead” for 52 seconds and in a coma for a few months. I was losing my mind for years. I was lost and alone in my own head for years. Hell you somehow managed to win a match I was in when I first started to see clearly for the first time. You had a truly harrowing ordeal … and it broke you. I had a decade of being lost in a fog, fighting alone while the XHF Network rose. And I found myself. I came out of it a better man, you came out of it a broken man.*He sits on the bed*
: There’s only one … of me. One man standing by everything he loves. Standing by the good in this business. The fun, the fans, the spotlight, the entertainment. Fighting from less than nothing and clawing back. Finding myself again. And once again making the hard sell. Believe in me. Believe in DT. I’ve been gone a while. You saw me grocery shop at Home Depot and lose a match to a man in a coma, but trust in me. I’m back. The real me. Better than ever. Follow me as I help put a new company on the map. Allow me to show you this place where talent resides you may not know is here. And within a few months I had sold myself to everyone again. Within a year I was winning global tournaments. I made good on my promises. And so people can continue to trust in me when I have to make that hard sell again. Like in this rumble. I’ve been here before. Before I was my best self. In 2006 I was inches away from winning. Now I have a clear strategy in mind. Now I have a better sense of self. And I have the right attitude. There’s only one of me … but there’s too many of you, fighting over nothing. There’s never enough for everyone. And while you all sell out … I will again make the hard sell. I will again have the crowd chanting my name. I will again be the main attraction lighting up the night. Because nobody can sell themselves like DT can. Though I admit there are a few who certainly try. I haven’t forgot about you Ratty…. Or you Caffrey … but for now … there’s one more zealot self-promoting madman I need to talk … to … first …*He looks out the window again and grabs his keys. He heads to the door to go drive into the city.*
: After all … he is keeping my crown warm for me.
