Shady Deals & Sexy Wheels {Spike CTA}
Jun 1, 2021 17:15:11 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Curtis D. Kanyon, and 5 more like this
Post by Spike Kane on Jun 1, 2021 17:15:11 GMT -5
“You failed”
The words burned into him, even still. Despite coming from Lucifer himself, they felt like they were coming from his father, like the disappointment carried within them could only be carried by a parent.
“Perhaps you were not properly motivated?”
It was hard for Spike to even react, let alone reply. He’d spent far too long trying to please others, far too long paying for his sins. The things he’d overcome, the things he’d been forced to do…..and the people he’d protected along the way that would never know, and never understand.
“It’s time we fix that, don’t you think?”
The surroundings were slowly becoming familiar to Spike. The walls, the banners, the stale smell in the air. The trophy cabinet seemed to be the only thing lit up, for the Kane Academy was in quite a state of disrepair.
Spike: This doesn't make sense…
“Why not?”
Spike: Because I left it to Pan, Astrid….and Hope.
“And?”
Spike: It was home. It was our home….this is bullshit, I don’t believe you, you’re the king of lies after all.
Now Lucifer came to stand next to Spike, as the two looked between the two dust ridden training rings, where Spike’s achievements were on display. There was a gap in the middle, a gap Spike didn’t remember being there before.
“You’ve said this yourself my dear child, why lie when the truth is so much more painful?”
Spike: I….I thought I made amends….I did everything I could, everyone I could….
“You thought they’d love a monster like you?”
Spike: …..I tried to earn it.
“Come now, the things you’ve done? There’s a reason we’re besties Michael.”
Spike’s shoulders drop as another dagger to the heart sinks in.
Spike: What do you want from me?
As he turns to look at the fallen one, Lucifer smirks and folds his arms.
“Did you know the voted Gilmore wrestler of the year?”
Spike: Shut the fuck up!
“I’m serious”
Spike: I hate you.
“I love you too. Sit, rest a while….”
In a whoosh of flames, Lucifer disappears and the TV Screen in the corner of the room flickers to life, flashing through the events that have passed since Spike Kane died. The people he cared about moving on, those honoring him, those slandering him, and how the festering disease of Spike Kane was still infecting and ruining the lives of everyone he ever cared about, poisoning them against him, his legacy, and everything he stood for. As he stared, and watched, it was like the very colour of his eyes drained away.
He lost track of how long he had sat and watched those he had cared for the most in his life slowly turn away from him. From such heartfelt and loving goodbyes, to such hatred and disdain. It broke him, it was as if everything he had lived for had been for nothing. The person he had tried to be had never been enough, and it never would be enough. The only thing worth talking about Spike Kane in today's day and age was in discussions about wrestling. Outside of that, he was simply a warning to companies and how they look after their workers' health. Just as he’d often said in his life, the only thing that had ever been there for him, was wrestling. He said it with bravado, but there was always an underlying conviction, now he knew it was true. Spike Kane the person was detested. But Spike Kane the wrestler?
He was still a god.
FWOOSH.
In an instant Spike was surrounded by flames starting in a circle at his feet, before he was pulled through them and very suddenly in an ostentatious office. All sorts of books on the shelves, trophies, plaques, photographs, a drinks cabinet. It was the fanciest thing Spike had ever seen, he wondered why Mongo’s office was so shit in comparison. Then he saw them, standing by the huge desk, Lucifer, and...JFK. Spike cocked his head in the clearest “WTF” you could imagine.
JFK: That’s better than how I expected you to act.
Spike: Like dive over the desk and rip your throat out.
JFK: You could try. I’m surprised you didn’t try at least.
Spike: Consider me intrigued.
Lucifer smirks, and let’s out an amused chuckle as Spike slowly walks towards the two of them. He notices a large script of parchment on the desk and takes a deep breath.
Spike: The fuck is going on?
JFK: Let’s just say I’ve got an out for you.
Spike: An out of what?
JFK: Like an actual out.
Lucifer: As in out of hell.
This causes Spike to laugh. He exaggerates looking up to the ceiling and back down again, shaking his head as he laughs, before he sits down in one of the arm chairs and puts his feet up onto JFK’s desk. It clearly makes JFK flinch, as if he was going to strike out.
Spike: Please James, tell me what the fuck could possibly be worth doing business with both him, and me? Like, do you need someone killed or something? There has to be a reason.
JFK: Please Michael. As if I’d stand here and spill any plans or deals I may have to someone like you. Looking for an in, or an exploitation. Remember, I led an Empire too.
Spike: I never forget.
JFK: It’s easy Spike, it should be for you. Win the X*Crown, and you’ll be free.
He sits for a moment, with an eyebrow raised, looking from JFK to Lucifer and back again. He slowly runs a hand through his hair, trying to see the outcome of all this, what could backfire against him.
Spike: I don’t get what you get out of this.
JFK: It’s just business Spike, it’s nothing personal. You are simply a means to an end.
Spike: Lovely…
As he speaks Spike lowers his feet, and leans over the desk to read the contract in front of him. Lucifer sits down on the desk and folds his arms as he waits for Spike to read, while JFK moves to his cabinet and begins to mix three drinks.
Spike: What’re these circle symbols?
JFK looks over his shoulder and makes eye contact with Spike.
JFK: You know damn well what they are.
He turns back and picks up the three glasses, bringing them over and offering one to Lucifer who takes it and tilts it towards him with a smile. He holds the other out in front of Spike, who looks up from the contract and nods his head, before taking the drink. JFK raises his glass, and the three clink glasses, before drinking their drinks. Spike turns back to the paper, drink in hand, before placing his hand on it. The paper stabs his hand, and a drop of blood falls, spelling out his full name on the dotted line. As soon as it does, Spike is once again surrounded by flames, and transported to an empty street, every single thing around him on fire. Almost like there was a bubble around him inside an eternal flame. He looked down at his drink.
Spike: Well, I can’t wait to see how this backfires…
He took a huge swig of the drink, before tossing the glass behind him, it smashed before becoming engulfed in flames. His ears twitched, and for a moment he thought he had finally gone insane as he swore he could hear “Highway to Hell” playing from somewhere. That was when a huge burst of flames erupted in front of him, and out of nowhere the BANG! Bus appeared. The doors swing open and Kanyon cocks his head to the side.
Spike: You?
Kanyon: You…...want a ride?
Spike shakes his head and sighs, the memory of losing the XHF Title to the other Kanyon flashing into his head.
Spike: ….sure.
For a second Spike looks around hesitating, weighing up whether he preferred the hellscape he was already on, or the one he was about to step into. He reaches out for the hand rail and recoils at the look on Kanyon’s face. Spike nods with a grim realisation as he steps onto the bus and begins to look for a seat.
Kanyon: Well, welcome to the team!
Spike: Whatever.
The Bang Bus finally arrives at the prison. The door slides open and Steve Awesome’s camera crew practically falls out due to how crammed everyone was. The rest of the crew climb out of the bus.
Curtis: *GASP!* Oh man, fresh air, finally! The only thing worse than a van full of sex musk is one that’s also full of gaffer B.O.
EC: Lo que necesito eran mis fosas nasales
Spike: Surprisingly worse than sulfur and brimstone.
Steve: Eh, I’m used to the smell.
Donny: Which one?
Steve: Anyway, what’s the plan gents? Did we get the penthouse sweet?
Curtis: Nope. We got cell block six! The most haunted of all the blocks! You see, there’s a mystery afoot! That’s why, in collaboration with Bang Bus and WB which secretly owns them, as I’m sure you are aware everything is owned by the bunny or the mouse, we’re also team building with a real life escape room type Scooby Doo mystery! Show ‘em Bear!
Bear, the Bang Bus driver, comes out of the car and slaps a large “Mystery Machine” magnet on the side of the bus. So it now reads “The Bang Bus Mystery Machine.”
Curtis: I call dibs on Freddy since I’m the leader and I look great with an ascot.
Steve: Ooo! I’m Daphne because I’m the sexy one.
Spike: I should be Scrappy because everyone hates me.
Curtis: You’ll be Scooby for obvious reasons.
Javier: El Combatiente will be Shaggy, because he likes...snacks...yes snacks.
Javier winks. Combatiente looks confused as to what is going on. Donny looks around counting.
Donny: Wait a minute! Does that make me Velma? I don’t want to be Velma! That’s not cool. I don’t like this game.
Steve: Yeah, whatever Velma.
Curtis: Ha ha ha! What playful team banter. I love it! Come on guys, let's go inside!
Everyone except Donny seems to be excited now that Javier has explained to El Combatiente what is going on.
Donny: I should have just stayed home today.
As the group enters the prison, Spike pulls up his hood and walks off following the signs towards cellblock 6. As he did so he became aware of a growing number of cats circling around his feet and trailing around him as he did so. He slowly took in the feel and the nature of the building, and the history that lived in the walls.
“They’re ghosts.”
The voice startled Spike, as the hunchbacked form of former XHF Superstar Snake appeared next to him.
Spike: For fuck sake Snake, you scared the shit out of me.
Snake: Yeah, cool. The cats are ghosts.
Spike: What the fuck, why?
Snake: I dunno, maybe because so many of them died here that the negative spirit energy was high enough for them to manifest form.
Spike: ….I didn’t expect an actual answer. What the fuck do you want?
The two kept walking through the halls and corridors, for all intents and purposes Spike was talking to himself, most people would just see Spike walking down the halls, no cats, no demon Snake.
Snake: I see you’re hanging with some of the old boys.
Spike: Not by fucking choice.
Snake: That’s rude.
Spike: Do I look like I fucking care?
Snake: Could you just….you know, tell them I’m here? Let them know I can communicate with them?
Spike: No. Why in the blue hell would I do that, and who would even want to talk to you!?
Snake: Your words are hurtful.
Spike: I can’t believe what my life has become!
He throws his hands behind his head, exasperated. He begins to kick out at several of the ghost cats as he storms off angrily, away from the hunchback charged with keeping tabs on the Spiked One. Absentmindedly Spike walked through the prison, ignoring the wails, the oohs, the boss, that came his way. He’d been to hell, this was child's play. Lost in his thoughts, trying to contain his anger, he heard a voice from down the corridor.
“I swear you’re supposed to be dead!”
Steve? Spike cocked his head, was he talking to Spike? He turned around a corner to see Steve Awesome, the source of the voice and the other members of his supposed team talking to none other than Bill Cosby.
Donny: No I’m pretty sure I read that he died…
Bill Cosby: Nope! I’m very much alive.
Steve: Dude, you’ve gotta show me that drink trick you do.
Spike joins the team as he stares daggers at Cosby.
Spike: Yeah, I’ve seen your room in hell. If I were you I’d try and stay alive as long as possible. Oof.
Steve: You’re supposed to be dead too!
Cut to a close up of Steve facing his crews camera.
[Steve Awesome
Probably your Dad.]
Steve: Spike died. The wake was good at least.
Spike is staring absolute daggers at Steve, raising an eyebrow and scrunching up his face in confusion.
Spike: Oh my god, fuck this shit. See you fuckers at the scooby bullshit.
Steve looks from the camera crew, to Spike as he walks off, back to Kanyon, and then Donnie, Javier and El Combatiente
Steve: Something I said?.
I am Spike Kane.
The words burned into him, even still. Despite coming from Lucifer himself, they felt like they were coming from his father, like the disappointment carried within them could only be carried by a parent.
“Perhaps you were not properly motivated?”
It was hard for Spike to even react, let alone reply. He’d spent far too long trying to please others, far too long paying for his sins. The things he’d overcome, the things he’d been forced to do…..and the people he’d protected along the way that would never know, and never understand.
“It’s time we fix that, don’t you think?”
The surroundings were slowly becoming familiar to Spike. The walls, the banners, the stale smell in the air. The trophy cabinet seemed to be the only thing lit up, for the Kane Academy was in quite a state of disrepair.
Spike: This doesn't make sense…
“Why not?”
Spike: Because I left it to Pan, Astrid….and Hope.
“And?”
Spike: It was home. It was our home….this is bullshit, I don’t believe you, you’re the king of lies after all.
Now Lucifer came to stand next to Spike, as the two looked between the two dust ridden training rings, where Spike’s achievements were on display. There was a gap in the middle, a gap Spike didn’t remember being there before.
“You’ve said this yourself my dear child, why lie when the truth is so much more painful?”
Spike: I….I thought I made amends….I did everything I could, everyone I could….
“You thought they’d love a monster like you?”
Spike: …..I tried to earn it.
“Come now, the things you’ve done? There’s a reason we’re besties Michael.”
Spike’s shoulders drop as another dagger to the heart sinks in.
Spike: What do you want from me?
As he turns to look at the fallen one, Lucifer smirks and folds his arms.
“Did you know the voted Gilmore wrestler of the year?”
Spike: Shut the fuck up!
“I’m serious”
Spike: I hate you.
“I love you too. Sit, rest a while….”
In a whoosh of flames, Lucifer disappears and the TV Screen in the corner of the room flickers to life, flashing through the events that have passed since Spike Kane died. The people he cared about moving on, those honoring him, those slandering him, and how the festering disease of Spike Kane was still infecting and ruining the lives of everyone he ever cared about, poisoning them against him, his legacy, and everything he stood for. As he stared, and watched, it was like the very colour of his eyes drained away.
~~~
Who is Spike Kane?
Why should I care?
I honestly don’t give a fuck if you care or not, I don’t care who you are, I don’t care where you come from. How big of a fish in your tiny pond you might be, or how much you stuff your shoes to try and act like hot stuff. I gave you all a warning before the Rumble, it was a warning shot fired across the bow of the entire XHF Network and everyone involved. To the pretenders who think they have what it takes to try and fill the boots of the God of Xtreme, to those who are so ignorant to everyone else around them, they’re likely to get ten shades of shit kicked out of them the moment they open their mouths.
I am Spike Kane.
I’m a 16 Time World Champion.
I’m the God of Xtreme.
I’m the future X*Crown Champion.
You should care, because knowing who is standing across the ring from you, is the only advantage you could ever gain. Prepare yourself, know what to expect, and then deal with it when this freight train hits you with the intent of ending your career. Every single one of you is standing between me and Misha Constantine..
The X*Crown Champion.
How fitting? Constantine, man, Rob would be marking out like fuck right now….
The Rumble was supposed to be my moment, returning to the place that catapulted my career and thrust Spike Kane into the limelight, and the main event. The gauntlet was laid down, and right from the beginning the bar was set, and raised over and over again. If that taster wasn’t enough to let you know what you’re in for the moment I get into that ring?
Throw in the fact that I’m also a thirty times tag team champion.
THIRTY TIMES.
I know what it takes to get it done in a team. Twenty Five years of knowledge, training, tactics, and experience lives inside this brain, and I’ve never been afraid to think outside of the box to get things done, because that was always what XTREME was meant to be, going that extra mile to get shit done, to prove a point, and to win…..and trust me, if you don’t know me? If you don’t care about who I am, or what I’ve done? Know one thing…
The last person who beat me had to kill me to do so.
~~~
He lost track of how long he had sat and watched those he had cared for the most in his life slowly turn away from him. From such heartfelt and loving goodbyes, to such hatred and disdain. It broke him, it was as if everything he had lived for had been for nothing. The person he had tried to be had never been enough, and it never would be enough. The only thing worth talking about Spike Kane in today's day and age was in discussions about wrestling. Outside of that, he was simply a warning to companies and how they look after their workers' health. Just as he’d often said in his life, the only thing that had ever been there for him, was wrestling. He said it with bravado, but there was always an underlying conviction, now he knew it was true. Spike Kane the person was detested. But Spike Kane the wrestler?
He was still a god.
FWOOSH.
In an instant Spike was surrounded by flames starting in a circle at his feet, before he was pulled through them and very suddenly in an ostentatious office. All sorts of books on the shelves, trophies, plaques, photographs, a drinks cabinet. It was the fanciest thing Spike had ever seen, he wondered why Mongo’s office was so shit in comparison. Then he saw them, standing by the huge desk, Lucifer, and...JFK. Spike cocked his head in the clearest “WTF” you could imagine.
JFK: That’s better than how I expected you to act.
Spike: Like dive over the desk and rip your throat out.
JFK: You could try. I’m surprised you didn’t try at least.
Spike: Consider me intrigued.
Lucifer smirks, and let’s out an amused chuckle as Spike slowly walks towards the two of them. He notices a large script of parchment on the desk and takes a deep breath.
Spike: The fuck is going on?
JFK: Let’s just say I’ve got an out for you.
Spike: An out of what?
JFK: Like an actual out.
Lucifer: As in out of hell.
This causes Spike to laugh. He exaggerates looking up to the ceiling and back down again, shaking his head as he laughs, before he sits down in one of the arm chairs and puts his feet up onto JFK’s desk. It clearly makes JFK flinch, as if he was going to strike out.
Spike: Please James, tell me what the fuck could possibly be worth doing business with both him, and me? Like, do you need someone killed or something? There has to be a reason.
JFK: Please Michael. As if I’d stand here and spill any plans or deals I may have to someone like you. Looking for an in, or an exploitation. Remember, I led an Empire too.
Spike: I never forget.
JFK: It’s easy Spike, it should be for you. Win the X*Crown, and you’ll be free.
He sits for a moment, with an eyebrow raised, looking from JFK to Lucifer and back again. He slowly runs a hand through his hair, trying to see the outcome of all this, what could backfire against him.
Spike: I don’t get what you get out of this.
JFK: It’s just business Spike, it’s nothing personal. You are simply a means to an end.
Spike: Lovely…
As he speaks Spike lowers his feet, and leans over the desk to read the contract in front of him. Lucifer sits down on the desk and folds his arms as he waits for Spike to read, while JFK moves to his cabinet and begins to mix three drinks.
Spike: What’re these circle symbols?
JFK looks over his shoulder and makes eye contact with Spike.
JFK: You know damn well what they are.
He turns back and picks up the three glasses, bringing them over and offering one to Lucifer who takes it and tilts it towards him with a smile. He holds the other out in front of Spike, who looks up from the contract and nods his head, before taking the drink. JFK raises his glass, and the three clink glasses, before drinking their drinks. Spike turns back to the paper, drink in hand, before placing his hand on it. The paper stabs his hand, and a drop of blood falls, spelling out his full name on the dotted line. As soon as it does, Spike is once again surrounded by flames, and transported to an empty street, every single thing around him on fire. Almost like there was a bubble around him inside an eternal flame. He looked down at his drink.
Spike: Well, I can’t wait to see how this backfires…
He took a huge swig of the drink, before tossing the glass behind him, it smashed before becoming engulfed in flames. His ears twitched, and for a moment he thought he had finally gone insane as he swore he could hear “Highway to Hell” playing from somewhere. That was when a huge burst of flames erupted in front of him, and out of nowhere the BANG! Bus appeared. The doors swing open and Kanyon cocks his head to the side.
Spike: You?
Kanyon: You…...want a ride?
Spike shakes his head and sighs, the memory of losing the XHF Title to the other Kanyon flashing into his head.
Spike: ….sure.
For a second Spike looks around hesitating, weighing up whether he preferred the hellscape he was already on, or the one he was about to step into. He reaches out for the hand rail and recoils at the look on Kanyon’s face. Spike nods with a grim realisation as he steps onto the bus and begins to look for a seat.
Kanyon: Well, welcome to the team!
Spike: Whatever.
~~~
There’s a connection to my life before all this going into this Call to Arms shit I’ve now got to deal with, a connection over 15 years old. A connection wrapped in infamy. One we both have with the REAL Lord Dominicus, because #InFamous is for life.
And apparently death too.
Knowing I have Steve Awesome on my side, means I know I don’t have to worry about being stabbed in the back, at least not until there’s a logical reason to do so of course. Because as much as I love Steve Awesome, I also think he’s a massive douchebag, but you see, I’m allowed to. Because as far as Steve is concerned, to the likes of Rob Diamond and myself? He’s our douchebag. One of the most talented men to ever grace an XHF ring, he might be the biggest tool outside of the ring, but who am I to judge? Our history goes back to XHF in its prime, through nCw, IWF, and many other places too. Hell, we even tried to bring AJ Phoenix and MGK’s failed faction “Overdrive” back to life…
Not our fault we killed the competition.
My point is simply, I don’t have to watch my back, and I don’t have to worry about my teammates holding up their end. As long as they do theirs, I’ll do mine. We’ll sort the rest out after the final bell, as I’m sure they’re all aware, and all preparing for. As I’m sure everyone one of you jumped up little pricks out there are doing also. Watch out for the backstab after the final bell, watch out for the turn!
I don’t really care.
My team are a means to an end. My team will get me one step closer to Night of Champions, once again, and one step closer to the X*Crown Championship. One step closer to erasing the one black spot on my absolutely stellar career. I’m asking you to listen to me, and I’m begging you all to take me seriously. I am a very fucking dangerous man, and if something, or someone is in my way, I have no problem plowing right through them and leaving a trail of carnage in my wake. I’ve ended careers, I’ve injured my friends, I’ve crushed dreams, and I’ve stepped on anyone and everyone to get to where I am today, to have the legacy that I have, and to be known as the fucking best there ever was.
I built a career out of spite, and I’ve become very fucking good at what I do.
Ask yourselves…
Are you even ready for the destruction coming your way?
There’s people out there who think they’re on my level, there’s people out there who think that they’ve surpassed the “legendary” Spike Kane, but I’m here to tell you, you’re pretty fucking far from the truth. Oh there’s talent out there, trust me, I’m well aware of it, well aware of who my targets are, and what potential threats may get in my way. Because that’s the point I need to drive home, and it’s the point I need you all to really focus on. I don’t care about who is on my team, and I don’t care about who I have to face in this match. I would literally go through every single member of every single federation associated with the XHF Network, to get to the X*Crown Championship.
That’s not a type of determination you want to fuck with.
Trust me.
Don’t believe me? Well there’s extensive XHF and nCw archive footage available on the XHF Network, still only $9.99.
Do some fucking research.
~~~
The Bang Bus finally arrives at the prison. The door slides open and Steve Awesome’s camera crew practically falls out due to how crammed everyone was. The rest of the crew climb out of the bus.
Curtis: *GASP!* Oh man, fresh air, finally! The only thing worse than a van full of sex musk is one that’s also full of gaffer B.O.
EC: Lo que necesito eran mis fosas nasales
Spike: Surprisingly worse than sulfur and brimstone.
Steve: Eh, I’m used to the smell.
Donny: Which one?
Steve: Anyway, what’s the plan gents? Did we get the penthouse sweet?
Curtis: Nope. We got cell block six! The most haunted of all the blocks! You see, there’s a mystery afoot! That’s why, in collaboration with Bang Bus and WB which secretly owns them, as I’m sure you are aware everything is owned by the bunny or the mouse, we’re also team building with a real life escape room type Scooby Doo mystery! Show ‘em Bear!
Bear, the Bang Bus driver, comes out of the car and slaps a large “Mystery Machine” magnet on the side of the bus. So it now reads “The Bang Bus Mystery Machine.”
Curtis: I call dibs on Freddy since I’m the leader and I look great with an ascot.
Steve: Ooo! I’m Daphne because I’m the sexy one.
Spike: I should be Scrappy because everyone hates me.
Curtis: You’ll be Scooby for obvious reasons.
Javier: El Combatiente will be Shaggy, because he likes...snacks...yes snacks.
Javier winks. Combatiente looks confused as to what is going on. Donny looks around counting.
Donny: Wait a minute! Does that make me Velma? I don’t want to be Velma! That’s not cool. I don’t like this game.
Steve: Yeah, whatever Velma.
Curtis: Ha ha ha! What playful team banter. I love it! Come on guys, let's go inside!
Everyone except Donny seems to be excited now that Javier has explained to El Combatiente what is going on.
Donny: I should have just stayed home today.
As the group enters the prison, Spike pulls up his hood and walks off following the signs towards cellblock 6. As he did so he became aware of a growing number of cats circling around his feet and trailing around him as he did so. He slowly took in the feel and the nature of the building, and the history that lived in the walls.
“They’re ghosts.”
The voice startled Spike, as the hunchbacked form of former XHF Superstar Snake appeared next to him.
Spike: For fuck sake Snake, you scared the shit out of me.
Snake: Yeah, cool. The cats are ghosts.
Spike: What the fuck, why?
Snake: I dunno, maybe because so many of them died here that the negative spirit energy was high enough for them to manifest form.
Spike: ….I didn’t expect an actual answer. What the fuck do you want?
The two kept walking through the halls and corridors, for all intents and purposes Spike was talking to himself, most people would just see Spike walking down the halls, no cats, no demon Snake.
Snake: I see you’re hanging with some of the old boys.
Spike: Not by fucking choice.
Snake: That’s rude.
Spike: Do I look like I fucking care?
Snake: Could you just….you know, tell them I’m here? Let them know I can communicate with them?
Spike: No. Why in the blue hell would I do that, and who would even want to talk to you!?
Snake: Your words are hurtful.
Spike: I can’t believe what my life has become!
He throws his hands behind his head, exasperated. He begins to kick out at several of the ghost cats as he storms off angrily, away from the hunchback charged with keeping tabs on the Spiked One. Absentmindedly Spike walked through the prison, ignoring the wails, the oohs, the boss, that came his way. He’d been to hell, this was child's play. Lost in his thoughts, trying to contain his anger, he heard a voice from down the corridor.
“I swear you’re supposed to be dead!”
Steve? Spike cocked his head, was he talking to Spike? He turned around a corner to see Steve Awesome, the source of the voice and the other members of his supposed team talking to none other than Bill Cosby.
Donny: No I’m pretty sure I read that he died…
Bill Cosby: Nope! I’m very much alive.
Steve: Dude, you’ve gotta show me that drink trick you do.
Spike joins the team as he stares daggers at Cosby.
Spike: Yeah, I’ve seen your room in hell. If I were you I’d try and stay alive as long as possible. Oof.
Steve: You’re supposed to be dead too!
Cut to a close up of Steve facing his crews camera.
[Steve Awesome
Probably your Dad.]
Steve: Spike died. The wake was good at least.
Spike is staring absolute daggers at Steve, raising an eyebrow and scrunching up his face in confusion.
Spike: Oh my god, fuck this shit. See you fuckers at the scooby bullshit.
Steve looks from the camera crew, to Spike as he walks off, back to Kanyon, and then Donnie, Javier and El Combatiente
Steve: Something I said?.
~~~
What lengths are you willing to go to?
What lengths are you willing to fight with, or for, your team to? Can you honestly say that any of you have anywhere near the laser levelled focus on this match that I do? I don’t even think my own team cares about this match as much as I do, and that is saying something, because whether or not anybody would like to admit it, it’s a god given fact that having Spike Kane on your side, certainly raises your chance of winning.
No need for -that- maths lesson.
Hah!?
Hah!?
All you need to ask yourself is this: Why do people keep going to extraordinary lengths to bring me back? There has to be a reason, right? There has to be a reason why whenever my name is brought up, there’s hype around it. I’m not like you new kids, jumping from fed to fed, working my fucking socks off in the minor leagues to try and make a name for myself, or make enough money to be self sufficient. No, I’ve done my time down in the dirt, down in those shark infested waters. I’ve seen and been a victim of the political game that runs rampant throughout this business. I’ve been held down, I’ve been sabotaged, and attacked from every single angle. I’ve done it all, absolutely everything I wanted to do…
Except win the X*Crown Championship.
How fitting that doing so would not just fill that hole in my trophy cabinet, but the hole inside of me too. The bonds of my life have been broken, and severed, I have nothing else to live for. Nothing else to gain, and nothing else to lose. So tell me, who can possibly stand in my way, who could stand in the way of me and my team? I don’t care if we stomp through you all, or I do it myself like I did in the rumble., the BANG! Bros are going to win, and when the dust settles? My teammates will have a first hand example of what they’ll have in store for them in the future.
Just in case anybody needs a reminder.
I doubt you do though, I imagine you’re probably sick of me already, because nobody likes to talk about Spike Kane, more than Spike Kane. I know there’s going to be resentment out there, punks getting pissed off because I walked in and took someone's spot. Well tough shit, when you reach my level of infamy, my level of success? Doors tend to open, because having the name Spike Kane involved in pretty much anything, guarantees money, guarantees asses in seats, and at the end of the day? That’s all Mongo wants. Line his fat pockets, and if you idiots are happy to keep doing it, and paying me for crushing peoples dreams and being the most violent man in the history of all wrestling? Fuck yeah, I’ll go until my heart stops.
Again.
Call to Arms is going to be chaos incarnate, and that is, and always has been, an environment where I thrive. Give me a glimmer of a chance, and I’ll do something nobody will forget, I’ll defy the odds, I’ll break someone if I have to….and I don’t care who it is, because why the fuck should I? I’m a living legend, a 16 time world champion, a 4 time hall of fame inductee. I’ve held every major championship, in every major company I’ve been in since BLW, before signing to XHF….
All except one.
It’s going to be mine, if I have to burn down every single federation, and every single superstar along the way. Male, female, veteran, rookie, legend, jobber….I just. Don’t. Care. I will do whatever it takes to become the X*Crown Champion, and that…..that is your final warning. Anything that happens after this, is on you all. I gave you an out, I gave you a chance, I will not be held responsible for the carnage the Blood God brings.
I am Spike Kane.
The God of Xtreme.
Trading one prison for another.
All fucking Hail.