(New) Money Moves [Inferno #17]
Mar 2, 2022 2:43:45 GMT -5
anthonycaffrey and Jonnie Valentine like this
Post by Dylan on Mar 2, 2022 2:43:45 GMT -5
Dylan limps backstage, holding a towel to his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Somehow despite his victory, this didn't feel like a win to him. His name was on the C.O.C.K. Battle Royale trophy, but perhaps it was because it was shared with another person it was tainted.
No, not another person. A pest. An insect. A dung beetle.
Evan fuckin' Valentine Jr.
Come on, it had to be him? There were a dozen of other people in that match and it had to be him? Rat Bastard is an ally from the #FuckMongo crew, they'd have fleshed well together. Randy Angel and Florida Man are both J-ROK allies, that'd have been a good dominant slap of who's the superior company. Donzig is... Donzig. Subject #42 is a delightful ball of fury, and a GWA alumni.
But it had to be Evan?
Even in his locker room, Dylan could hear the Valentine cousins and New Money association parading the halls. He placed ear buds in his ears, hoping to drown the sound out while he showered off and destressed. But no matter how thunderous the water and how eardrum-shattering the music, the Valentine celebration ceremony thundered on. Was this a ploy of mind games to get into his new tag team partner's head? Regardless, the jeers and cheers slowly fade away and Dylan finally exits the dirty Philly water spout and towels off. He puts on some regular clothes, before getting his velcro sneakers (what, do you expect him to tie shoes with one hand?) and strapping them shut. The door to his room finally opens and Dylan's head perks up, to see his manager Antonio. Beaming down and with a roll of papers in his hands, he closes the door behind him and turns to Dylan.
Antonio: My boy, we just might pull this off! There is a good chance this quick run in FIRESIDE might get us just enough money to get you a new arm!
Dylan raises his eyebrow quizzically at Antonio, before leaning back down to finish closing up his shoes.
Dylan: And how might you have accomplished that? I didn't even think we'd get this far.
Antonio: Title matches call for bigger bucks boy! Since you've punched your ticket to a tag title match, I was able to just squeeze a few more pennies out of the payroll people here... well squeeze a few more pennies for your future paychecks. Not this one. You get what you bargained.
Antonio hands an envelope to Dylan, who pockets it in his pants pocket.
Antonio: Now, I am aware of just how... unfortunate you may think this scenario is. Evan took your Battle of the Best win from you, albeit via many shenanigans, and took that win to put a stranglehold on the X*Crown. I don't have to have you confirm to just know there is a lot of ill feelings towards him. All I'm just asking is... play nice?
Dylan says nothing, perhaps intentionally struggling with his shoes so he doesn't have to acknowledge his advocate.
Antonio: It will be a lot easier for everyone to just go with it. Take a few insults, be a verbal punching bag a bit, there'll be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Of that I'm certain.
Still nothing. Antonio sighs and turns to the door, before Dylan finally speaks up.
Dylan: I can't promise much. I'll play along as much as I need to. But the second I can score some well-earned payback without crossing lines, I'm socking that fucker in the jaw. It's the least I can do.
Antonio chuckles and leaves, leaving Dylan to his devices. He finally finishes fucking with his shoes and stands up.
Dylan: Yeah, I'm thinking a few socks to the jaw are gonna be what he gets for his bullshit.
I did say I could take any thrown-together duo and turn shit into diamonds. I, uh. Didn't count on this though.
We open on Dylan, packing up his suitcase in his room in the XHF Network House. Despite being here a whole month he didn't actually see any other wrestlers here. Was this a rib by E.V.E.? Who knows, who cares.
Still, a promise is a promise and I intend to follow through. Even if I have to share a corner with the biggest rat bastard in FIRESIDE not named Rat Bastard, there is no doubt in my mind that the winners of the C.O.C.K. Battle Royale are going to exit the ring one day holding the FIRESIDE Tag Team Championships high above their heads.
But...
He sighs. This is not where the fun begins.
No. Now's not the time to dwell on the Battle Royale I won to get to this position. The match specifically designed to designate the next challengers to Los BANG! Hermanos! Or so I thought. See, FIRESIDE has one real convenient policy. I think we all know the one, the Open Door Policy, that says win a tag team match and you become the next challengers for the FIRESIDE Tag Team Champions, Los BANG! Hermanos.
Dylan raises an eyebrow, and stuffs some shirts in the suitcase.
I hope you see the predicament you have created, Death Trap. You and Mistress Discipline, like many teams before you, opened the FIRESIDE Door and walked through to claim your shot at the FIRESIDE Tag Team Champions. Unfortunately for you, you tried to step in front of the two guys who scraped their way through 12 other people to get in your position. Not cool bro. Were Top of the Class too good to scrap with the rabble of the C.O.C.K. Battle Royale? Sure seemed that way. But while you two were having playtime with the Boarding Party, Evan and I were scrapping our way to where we are now! The next challengers for the FIRESIDE Tag Team Championships! The next Champions even!
A pause, and he frowns.
See DT, we thought that when you went down on the sinking SWAT ship that that'd be the last we see of you. But like a puppy, where Mistress Discipline goes you're incredibly close behind. Leeching off her popularity, your success. Without you by her side, MD has been swimming fine in this ocean. But without her? People forget about the self-proclaimed Main Attraction. Without MD by your side you're just a brute who's particularly good at wrapping people up in submissions. Yeah, I've been studying the tapes Dave. After you damn-near killed me at Night of Champions 11 I promised to myself I'd never be humiliated like that again. AND LOOK HOW THAT TREATED ME! FOR 9 MONTHS I WAS THE MOST DOMINANT CHAMPION ON THE SCENE! I LET MYSELF BE BACKED INTO CORNERS JUST FOR THE THRILL, AND FOUGHT BACK OUT! AND 6 MORE MONTHS I MADE SURE MY PRESENSE WAS STILL FELT ALONG THE NETWORK! Until...
A hand runs along the spot where his right arm was. A sigh.
Well yeah. I let Steve happen. But I've been working on myself since then. Trying to be a one-armed fighting machine. I may have let myself be humiliated... again... but I'm not going to be embarrassed by someone with a bowler hat fetish. I'm here to make sure that Top of the Class remains where they belong... in second place.
Dylan draws a thumb across his throat, before grinning.
Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about you Kanyon. There's a lot of pent-up feelings I've had since you took my AXW Undisputed Championship from me almost 4 years ago, but I... really think I want to let my fists do the talking. I know that you're going to be a large roadblock for me, but you are gonna be a roadblock for DT as well and frankly, I'm fine with you blocking him off. If we're lucky, the two XHF OGs will butt heads and focus on each other enough so I can take advantage of you guys.
He places a hand over his mouth, feigning shock.
Whoopsie, shouldn't have said that out loud. But Dave, Kanyon, you two are going to be dropped down in front of me so I can guide Evan across as the newest rag tag duo to win the FIRESIDE Tag Team Championships. I will plow both of you while Evan tackles Combatiente and Mistress, then we will boot Los BANG! Hermanos out of the office! That's a spoiler boys, take that to the bank.
Dylan closes his case and sits on it, smiling for a beat before a finger gun to the camera.
Beware the Daemon of Mayhem and Heir to the Valentine Throne. Beware Dylan Black and Evan Valentine Jr.
Beat.
God I hope he doesn't coin a stupid name for us.
Cut to black.
Fin.
No, not another person. A pest. An insect. A dung beetle.
Evan fuckin' Valentine Jr.
Come on, it had to be him? There were a dozen of other people in that match and it had to be him? Rat Bastard is an ally from the #FuckMongo crew, they'd have fleshed well together. Randy Angel and Florida Man are both J-ROK allies, that'd have been a good dominant slap of who's the superior company. Donzig is... Donzig. Subject #42 is a delightful ball of fury, and a GWA alumni.
But it had to be Evan?
Even in his locker room, Dylan could hear the Valentine cousins and New Money association parading the halls. He placed ear buds in his ears, hoping to drown the sound out while he showered off and destressed. But no matter how thunderous the water and how eardrum-shattering the music, the Valentine celebration ceremony thundered on. Was this a ploy of mind games to get into his new tag team partner's head? Regardless, the jeers and cheers slowly fade away and Dylan finally exits the dirty Philly water spout and towels off. He puts on some regular clothes, before getting his velcro sneakers (what, do you expect him to tie shoes with one hand?) and strapping them shut. The door to his room finally opens and Dylan's head perks up, to see his manager Antonio. Beaming down and with a roll of papers in his hands, he closes the door behind him and turns to Dylan.
Antonio: My boy, we just might pull this off! There is a good chance this quick run in FIRESIDE might get us just enough money to get you a new arm!
Dylan raises his eyebrow quizzically at Antonio, before leaning back down to finish closing up his shoes.
Dylan: And how might you have accomplished that? I didn't even think we'd get this far.
Antonio: Title matches call for bigger bucks boy! Since you've punched your ticket to a tag title match, I was able to just squeeze a few more pennies out of the payroll people here... well squeeze a few more pennies for your future paychecks. Not this one. You get what you bargained.
Antonio hands an envelope to Dylan, who pockets it in his pants pocket.
Antonio: Now, I am aware of just how... unfortunate you may think this scenario is. Evan took your Battle of the Best win from you, albeit via many shenanigans, and took that win to put a stranglehold on the X*Crown. I don't have to have you confirm to just know there is a lot of ill feelings towards him. All I'm just asking is... play nice?
Dylan says nothing, perhaps intentionally struggling with his shoes so he doesn't have to acknowledge his advocate.
Antonio: It will be a lot easier for everyone to just go with it. Take a few insults, be a verbal punching bag a bit, there'll be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Of that I'm certain.
Still nothing. Antonio sighs and turns to the door, before Dylan finally speaks up.
Dylan: I can't promise much. I'll play along as much as I need to. But the second I can score some well-earned payback without crossing lines, I'm socking that fucker in the jaw. It's the least I can do.
Antonio chuckles and leaves, leaving Dylan to his devices. He finally finishes fucking with his shoes and stands up.
Dylan: Yeah, I'm thinking a few socks to the jaw are gonna be what he gets for his bullshit.
I did say I could take any thrown-together duo and turn shit into diamonds. I, uh. Didn't count on this though.
We open on Dylan, packing up his suitcase in his room in the XHF Network House. Despite being here a whole month he didn't actually see any other wrestlers here. Was this a rib by E.V.E.? Who knows, who cares.
Still, a promise is a promise and I intend to follow through. Even if I have to share a corner with the biggest rat bastard in FIRESIDE not named Rat Bastard, there is no doubt in my mind that the winners of the C.O.C.K. Battle Royale are going to exit the ring one day holding the FIRESIDE Tag Team Championships high above their heads.
But...
He sighs. This is not where the fun begins.
No. Now's not the time to dwell on the Battle Royale I won to get to this position. The match specifically designed to designate the next challengers to Los BANG! Hermanos! Or so I thought. See, FIRESIDE has one real convenient policy. I think we all know the one, the Open Door Policy, that says win a tag team match and you become the next challengers for the FIRESIDE Tag Team Champions, Los BANG! Hermanos.
Dylan raises an eyebrow, and stuffs some shirts in the suitcase.
I hope you see the predicament you have created, Death Trap. You and Mistress Discipline, like many teams before you, opened the FIRESIDE Door and walked through to claim your shot at the FIRESIDE Tag Team Champions. Unfortunately for you, you tried to step in front of the two guys who scraped their way through 12 other people to get in your position. Not cool bro. Were Top of the Class too good to scrap with the rabble of the C.O.C.K. Battle Royale? Sure seemed that way. But while you two were having playtime with the Boarding Party, Evan and I were scrapping our way to where we are now! The next challengers for the FIRESIDE Tag Team Championships! The next Champions even!
A pause, and he frowns.
See DT, we thought that when you went down on the sinking SWAT ship that that'd be the last we see of you. But like a puppy, where Mistress Discipline goes you're incredibly close behind. Leeching off her popularity, your success. Without you by her side, MD has been swimming fine in this ocean. But without her? People forget about the self-proclaimed Main Attraction. Without MD by your side you're just a brute who's particularly good at wrapping people up in submissions. Yeah, I've been studying the tapes Dave. After you damn-near killed me at Night of Champions 11 I promised to myself I'd never be humiliated like that again. AND LOOK HOW THAT TREATED ME! FOR 9 MONTHS I WAS THE MOST DOMINANT CHAMPION ON THE SCENE! I LET MYSELF BE BACKED INTO CORNERS JUST FOR THE THRILL, AND FOUGHT BACK OUT! AND 6 MORE MONTHS I MADE SURE MY PRESENSE WAS STILL FELT ALONG THE NETWORK! Until...
A hand runs along the spot where his right arm was. A sigh.
Well yeah. I let Steve happen. But I've been working on myself since then. Trying to be a one-armed fighting machine. I may have let myself be humiliated... again... but I'm not going to be embarrassed by someone with a bowler hat fetish. I'm here to make sure that Top of the Class remains where they belong... in second place.
Dylan draws a thumb across his throat, before grinning.
Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about you Kanyon. There's a lot of pent-up feelings I've had since you took my AXW Undisputed Championship from me almost 4 years ago, but I... really think I want to let my fists do the talking. I know that you're going to be a large roadblock for me, but you are gonna be a roadblock for DT as well and frankly, I'm fine with you blocking him off. If we're lucky, the two XHF OGs will butt heads and focus on each other enough so I can take advantage of you guys.
He places a hand over his mouth, feigning shock.
Whoopsie, shouldn't have said that out loud. But Dave, Kanyon, you two are going to be dropped down in front of me so I can guide Evan across as the newest rag tag duo to win the FIRESIDE Tag Team Championships. I will plow both of you while Evan tackles Combatiente and Mistress, then we will boot Los BANG! Hermanos out of the office! That's a spoiler boys, take that to the bank.
Dylan closes his case and sits on it, smiling for a beat before a finger gun to the camera.
Beware the Daemon of Mayhem and Heir to the Valentine Throne. Beware Dylan Black and Evan Valentine Jr.
Beat.
God I hope he doesn't coin a stupid name for us.
Cut to black.
Fin.