Picking Your Moments (EoD CD)
Oct 19, 2020 10:03:51 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 3 more like this
Post by Cross Recoba on Oct 19, 2020 10:03:51 GMT -5
There are many times when the words ‘Fuck Mongo’ are used by those who compete on the XHF Network but in this moment, Cross meant every word of it. The New Davao Matina Gallery could be described with many adjectives but luxurious and comfortable wouldn’t be ones that anyone would dare to use when talking about the backstage area.
The smell, no matter how much bleach had been laid down, was acrid with sweat and chicken death and left an odor inside of your nostrils that only inflamed the rancour held against a decision to host an event here that must have involved kickbacks galore.
With all that being said, ‘Fuck Mongo’ was also being heavily channeled into the realization that, as per the agreed terms, Cross had seen both of his win bonuses forfeited due to the inclusion, by Mongo, of a ‘Morality Clause’. In plain speak, any wins gained by illegal methods would see Cross lose that bonus. He’d tried to argue that people tuned into watch Recoba matches because of his mastery of the dark arts of the ring, not in spite of them but after a protracted stalemate he realized that they’d only lowball his guaranteed amount to a figure far below one that included their ‘insurance policy’.
High Finance without the cheating was like trying to watch Riverdance but only seeing the top halves of the dancers, it wasn’t what people came to see. Besides, there were three things Cross loved - Dakota, winning, and money. The order was up for debate.
His representatives had come close to being given their marching orders when one, the idealist of the group, dared to ask him if he didn’t already have enough money. You know the people that ask that question? People who don’t have that much money in the first place. Sure, it’s a lovely idea but when you get to the point where you think you’ll be happy with the money? You want more, just look at any religious institution. They were either greedy or were happy to follow a deity that squandered any and all money gifted to him.
Besides, Cross had seen the merchandising projections and you know, offering a High Finance member more money and expecting them to turn it down on a moral objection was less likely to happen than Spermy Boi chairing the next Presidential Election Debate.
He turned his attention back to the AWF United States title match that he’d had to stream on his phone, on his dime, from the XHF Network - figured there wasn’t much call for those into cockfighting to need to watch backstage.
As NJC tries to make it to his feet, Jennings wraps her arms around his waist, SHE LIFTS HIM IN THE AIR WITH A GERMAN SUPLEX, BUT GOES INTO A MID AIR CROSSBAR!
Taylor: DKO MARK THREE! SHE'S GOT IT LOCKED IN DEEP!
NJC THRASHES AROUND BUT THIS TIME SHE HAS THE ARMBAR PERFECTLY LOCKED IN! THE REFEREE ASKS HIM IF HE WANTS TO QUIT AS HE TRIES TO REACH OUT FOR ANYTHING, BUT THEY'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING! JENNINGS YELLS FOR HIM TO TAP!
Taylor: THIS MIGHT BE IT!
Romano: CARNER HAS NOWHERE ELSE TO GO!
Taylor: JENNINGS HAS THIS, NJC IS GOING TO HAVE TO SUBMI-
Cross found himself raised from his chair…
Come on….
"AWW, FUCK YO' HEADPHONES!"
The curse was kicking in. Was the metal used for the United States title mined from a Native American burial ground? He’d tried to warn Dakota about this but figured that Garcia and Williams were still nursing the wounds of their loss. She’d sooner take a chair to his own head than look like she needed him to survive in the ring. Beck playing now meant one thing, The ReVenant’s were now lackeys to The Great American Ego, Seth Dillinger.
The result was now beyond question. Garcia and Williams had made it ringside and this was going to be a mugging. He reached into his jacket pocket and felt for the black ring box inside, weighing up whether tonight would be the place of all places to ask the question. He found himself weighing up that thought as Carner’s music spread across the arena like a bad taste in his mouth.
As he grabbed a bottle of water, the cage had come down around the ring and what it contained could only be described as pure brutality. First, a headbutt busted open Dakota and Cross’ mind cast itself back to every prediction by every self-proclaimed expert, how she’d used each one to drive her through her training for the match. As she connected with the Shining Wizard he felt like the match was going to turn her way.
Dakota: Sorry “my liege” … I have a date with the finals.
She begins to climb the cage. As she reaches the top she is met by a steel chair to the face from Gareth Mitchell who has set up a ladder and climbed it. Dakota comes flying off the top of the cage and Swann springs up catching her with the Fine Ending!
Taylor: NO THAT DAMN ROYAL SIMP HAS COST DAKOTA THE MATCH!
Romano: After that fall and DDT, she must be done. She’ll be lucky to survive.
As soon as Swann hit the Fine Ending he knew that a Dakota pissed that he ignored her request to not get involved would be easier to deal with than one who had been told she had nothing to lose in the tournament only to get this far and come away with nothing.
As he reached ringside all he could do was help her to her feet in victory. The smile that shone through the crimson mask on her face said everything he needed to hear.
“Zoran, you’re next”
The smell, no matter how much bleach had been laid down, was acrid with sweat and chicken death and left an odor inside of your nostrils that only inflamed the rancour held against a decision to host an event here that must have involved kickbacks galore.
With all that being said, ‘Fuck Mongo’ was also being heavily channeled into the realization that, as per the agreed terms, Cross had seen both of his win bonuses forfeited due to the inclusion, by Mongo, of a ‘Morality Clause’. In plain speak, any wins gained by illegal methods would see Cross lose that bonus. He’d tried to argue that people tuned into watch Recoba matches because of his mastery of the dark arts of the ring, not in spite of them but after a protracted stalemate he realized that they’d only lowball his guaranteed amount to a figure far below one that included their ‘insurance policy’.
High Finance without the cheating was like trying to watch Riverdance but only seeing the top halves of the dancers, it wasn’t what people came to see. Besides, there were three things Cross loved - Dakota, winning, and money. The order was up for debate.
His representatives had come close to being given their marching orders when one, the idealist of the group, dared to ask him if he didn’t already have enough money. You know the people that ask that question? People who don’t have that much money in the first place. Sure, it’s a lovely idea but when you get to the point where you think you’ll be happy with the money? You want more, just look at any religious institution. They were either greedy or were happy to follow a deity that squandered any and all money gifted to him.
Besides, Cross had seen the merchandising projections and you know, offering a High Finance member more money and expecting them to turn it down on a moral objection was less likely to happen than Spermy Boi chairing the next Presidential Election Debate.
He turned his attention back to the AWF United States title match that he’d had to stream on his phone, on his dime, from the XHF Network - figured there wasn’t much call for those into cockfighting to need to watch backstage.
As NJC tries to make it to his feet, Jennings wraps her arms around his waist, SHE LIFTS HIM IN THE AIR WITH A GERMAN SUPLEX, BUT GOES INTO A MID AIR CROSSBAR!
Taylor: DKO MARK THREE! SHE'S GOT IT LOCKED IN DEEP!
NJC THRASHES AROUND BUT THIS TIME SHE HAS THE ARMBAR PERFECTLY LOCKED IN! THE REFEREE ASKS HIM IF HE WANTS TO QUIT AS HE TRIES TO REACH OUT FOR ANYTHING, BUT THEY'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING! JENNINGS YELLS FOR HIM TO TAP!
Taylor: THIS MIGHT BE IT!
Romano: CARNER HAS NOWHERE ELSE TO GO!
Taylor: JENNINGS HAS THIS, NJC IS GOING TO HAVE TO SUBMI-
Cross found himself raised from his chair…
Come on….
"AWW, FUCK YO' HEADPHONES!"
The curse was kicking in. Was the metal used for the United States title mined from a Native American burial ground? He’d tried to warn Dakota about this but figured that Garcia and Williams were still nursing the wounds of their loss. She’d sooner take a chair to his own head than look like she needed him to survive in the ring. Beck playing now meant one thing, The ReVenant’s were now lackeys to The Great American Ego, Seth Dillinger.
The result was now beyond question. Garcia and Williams had made it ringside and this was going to be a mugging. He reached into his jacket pocket and felt for the black ring box inside, weighing up whether tonight would be the place of all places to ask the question. He found himself weighing up that thought as Carner’s music spread across the arena like a bad taste in his mouth.
As he grabbed a bottle of water, the cage had come down around the ring and what it contained could only be described as pure brutality. First, a headbutt busted open Dakota and Cross’ mind cast itself back to every prediction by every self-proclaimed expert, how she’d used each one to drive her through her training for the match. As she connected with the Shining Wizard he felt like the match was going to turn her way.
Dakota: Sorry “my liege” … I have a date with the finals.
She begins to climb the cage. As she reaches the top she is met by a steel chair to the face from Gareth Mitchell who has set up a ladder and climbed it. Dakota comes flying off the top of the cage and Swann springs up catching her with the Fine Ending!
Taylor: NO THAT DAMN ROYAL SIMP HAS COST DAKOTA THE MATCH!
Romano: After that fall and DDT, she must be done. She’ll be lucky to survive.
As soon as Swann hit the Fine Ending he knew that a Dakota pissed that he ignored her request to not get involved would be easier to deal with than one who had been told she had nothing to lose in the tournament only to get this far and come away with nothing.
As he reached ringside all he could do was help her to her feet in victory. The smile that shone through the crimson mask on her face said everything he needed to hear.
“Zoran, you’re next”
