The Magical Land Of NLW | Cage Homecoming II
Nov 20, 2021 21:28:03 GMT -5
Jimbo, bloodiedfox, and 2 more like this
Post by Drag on Nov 20, 2021 21:28:03 GMT -5
#NLW #NathanCage #RabidDog
NLW WRESTLER INVADES LOCAL INDIE SHOW
Unsteady and out of focus, the footage is amateurish at best. Even still, the wrestling ring with a suit clad man stood in its centre is unmistakable. While the audio is also of poor quality, it's clear by the title held in the man’s hand, the athlete standing next to him and the proud tone of the man’s voice that this is a landmark moment.
The man holds up and presents the title to the crowd who politely cheer before moving to hand it to the wrestler at his side, when all of a sudden the crowd’s prior reaction detonates. Cheers and boo’s engulf the small gymnasium as a well known psychopath marches through the curtain and towards the ring.
Immediately the suited man begins to frantically yell at the oncoming thug. Stating it’s not “His time” to appear yet. This falls on deaf ears while the Rabid Dog enters the ring. The man is pushed back by his new Champion who places himself in the psychopath’s crosshairs.
The company’s newly decorated World Champion is immediately dropped by a swift headbutt from Nathan Cage.
Without missing a beat, Cage yanks the microphone from out of the suited man’s hand, who takes the opportunity to flee the ring.
“I like this company!”
Cage is only barely audible over the manic crowd reaction after he just knocked out their world champion.
“I just had another company in this fuckin’ city; tell me they ain’t gonna be bringin’ their cameras ‘round to film what I have to say, ON THE LEADUP to their biggest show! Why? ‘Cause I’ve been too outta control? ‘Cause my match ain’t gettin put on their record books? ‘Cause I don’t take any of their SHIT!?”
The man outside waves his arms, signalling security to lumber down the aisle, confused if this is part of the show or not. Cage leans over the ropes and points to the man.
“You better not do a FUCKIN’ THING! Considerin’ I’m about to give this promotion more attention in five minutes than it’s had its entire lifetime!”
The man weighs his options for a moment and signals for security to stand down. Though they remain at ringside, arms folded. Cage moves back to addressing the audience and their sea of phones and cameras.
“Nathan Cage is a commodity! I got a track record of givin’ the top brass headaches, but I line NLW’s pockets with GOLD!”
“Unfortunately that don’t matter so much to ‘em with how many times I get fined or chastised or passed over. But it don’t surprise me. People ask me in that company every fuckin’ day! “Why’re you so bitter?”. Well I tried early on in my career to sit on my hands, respect the locker room, wait for an opportunity and show ‘em what I can do. But there’s a BB Gunn and there’s a Tommy Kelly in every fuckin’ company. A piece of shit, sittin’ in a corner, paddin’ out his win loss record and tryin’ to cash in a few more paychecks ‘fore he retires.”
He scoffs.
“Well now I don’t wait for SHIT! I did my waitin’, six years of it! Locked up and told what to do, when to sleep, when to eat! I make my own opportunities now! Tommy, woulda drifted along, hoverin’ around the main event scene, till he retired or his liver finally kicked it. But now, he’s locked into this match with no way out, ‘cause one guy forced it to happen! Make no mistake, Kelly’s trapped here, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Despite all his titles, despite that he’s never been legitimately pinned or submitted in NLW, despite his win-loss record he liked braggin’ about on Ascendancy. Nobody gave two shits about challengin’ him! Nobody was bangin’ down his door beggin’ for a shot at the Stormcrow! See, these past several months, all that’s came outta his mouth is that I’m a punk, or that I’m tryin’ to climb the ladder usin’ his head. But really, it’s the other way ‘round! Strip away that belt and apparently NLW runs fine without Kelly! You, ya stupid bastard, need this match for those reasons! YOU, need to take your place back on top, need to shut me up, need to feel important!”
Cage reaches into his pants and pulls out a crumpled, autographed photo of “Deathless” Tommy Kelly.
“I have here an autograph from Tommy that I got online. Presumably ‘cause the seller couldn’t wait until he’d died.”
Cage holds the picture up and parades it around the ring as he speaks.
“Son, don’t think for a single second I’m underestimatin’ you like you have me this whole damn story. Cause ya used to be the measurin’ stick! Unbeaten. On top. But ya don’t get to walk into the sunset with just some interference or a lil multi-man match loss stainin’ your record. You don’t get to save face like that. You will get your ass kicked by a man who ALSO ain’t been legitimately pinned or submitted in NLW. ‘Cause we’re gonna show that NLW’s got a new ceiling. And his name’s Nathan! FUCKIN'! CAGE!”
Cage spits in the photo and crumples it in his hand. He chucks it at the suit clad man who barely avoids being smacked in the face. Clear disgust in his expression.
“Unsanctioned’s just a fancy word so that the NLW brass won’t have to officially write down that one of their best got his ass handed to him! And there ain’t gonna BE any interference. There ain’t gonna BE any doubt. There won’t be ANY of that crap for ya to hide behind! Kelly’s gettin’ dragged into the spotlight courtesy of me. For as long as I make my point off the back of “Dickless'' Tommy Kelly, he’ll likely still be a big ‘ol star after I get done with him. But if he's got any fight left, rest assured we’re gonna find it together!”
Cage leans on the ropes. His intensity that held the crowd’s crazed reaction, shifting to contemplation. The audience quiets to a buzz as they await him to continue.
“If I’m bein’ blunt to ya Tommy, it’s that winnin’ against you’s secondary for me. You wanna beat me to sate your ego and keep your spot. But I don’t care about your millions of names, or puttin’ myself over off beatin’ ya like you’ve claimed the past several weeks.”
“Don’t want ya to shake my hand and call me the better man after the match. Don’t want your money, your spot, your lady. I don’t want anythin’ you’d have to give. The only thing I want is to cross your name off my list. To show that, when push comes to shove. I'm tougher than you.”
Cage’s voice begins rising. As before, there are boo’s and cheers in the audience as the crowd rises with Cage.
“What I want is for a way to tell you, every cunt from the NLW locker room to all the ones I’ve had to deal with before it, to go FUCK themselves!”
“What I WANT, is for you to wake up every mornin’, drag yourself outta bed, down a bottle of Jack Daniels for courage and look in the mirror and KNOW. That you are OFFICIALLY. ON THE SHELF. AND THAT NATHAN CAGE PUT YA THERE! THE TWENTY-SEVENTH IS GONNA BE THE FIRST DAY OF YOUR NEW LIFE! OR WHAT’S FUCKIN’ LEFT OF IT!”
“DEATH! BY! CAGE!
DEATH! BY! CAGE!”
The local audience, still with its detractors, seems to have taken the side of NLW’s renegade.
“THE MAGICAL LAND OF NLW CAN SHILL THIS SHIT AS MY TRIAL BY FIRE. CAST ME AS THE UNDERDOG. “CAN NATHAN CAGE DO IT?”, “DOES HE GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO RUN WITH THE BEST IN NLW?”. BUT I AIN’T CJ WALKER AND I SURE AS HELL AIN’T THE FORMER CHAMP FINN WHELAN. FITTINGLY ENOUGH, NATHAN FUCKIN’ CAGE IS A WHOLE OTHER LEVEL! SO TOMMY KELLY!... You keep yourself real safe until Homecoming. Understood, boy?”
“Cause I’m about to walk up to that old prick in the corner of every locker room. And rip his fucking throat out.”
Cage then hurls the microphone at the man ringside, causing a shrill echo to pierce through the arena. This action serves as the impetus for security to storm the ring and apprehend Cage. He drops the first guard much like the company’s champion, then begins throwing hands with the second before three more slide into the ring and try to pin Cage back.
They drag him out the ring with serious visible effort as the Rabid Dog lives up to his namesake. Amidst all this carnage, the crowd’s reaction never wavers.
“DEATH! BY! CAGE!
DEATH! BY! CAGE!
DEATH! BY! CAGE!”
