Reality Checks Bounce [FML Hardkore No. 1]
Dec 28, 2023 23:54:12 GMT -5
Kira Izumi, mosler, and 1 more like this
Post by flo on Dec 28, 2023 23:54:12 GMT -5
Museums.
In his youth, Florida Boy remembers them being dry, stuffy places - only a few skeletons separating them from being the dusty mausoleums that were libraries. The central air would attract him into these houses of learning on hot days, but there was only so much running around the Floridian youth could get away with before a priceless vase was broken, or a security guard demanded he put his pants back on. Higher education snobs. Dozens of formative moments based around wanting the mummies to roar to life, only to get let down, had left Florida Man of the opinion that museums weren't for him...
...If only he'd come to Japan sooner.
Sapporo.
Your friendly globe trotting smuggler of knockoff iPhones, Florida ManG, is currently stomping around the Hokkaido region of Japan for the Holidays, in anticipation of two career defining matches at the Tsukimasu Green Dome. There is a lot of pressure built on the combination punch of J-RoK's two night Raison D'Etre 4 show. Tension mounted until the gator-faced luchador had to hit the town as a distraction. What to do in Sapporo? Take in a wrestling show? No. That would defeat the purpose of this excursion. Fans may question why the Sunshine State Stud chooses to wear his mask at all times, but the scaly green visage reminds authorities that he is a wrestler, and has probably gotten him out of the drunk tank more times than he can count. Not that Florida Man was ever that good at counting, math, or numbers, to begin with. At the moment, a security guard escorts FML out of a museum... but not because of the reptile's unruly behaviour, rather because it's closing time.
Florida Man (holding up index finger):
One more minute, please?
Unable to speak English, the guard simply shakes his head "No," and having gotten their last visitor through the door, smiles politely before locking up.
Florida Man:
Dang.
Disappointed, Florida Man kicks the air, before looking up at the building in awe.
Florida Man:
...I would miss Japan.
Not even bothering to lift his feet, FML relies on a light accumulation of slush to glide down the steps. Snow is falling, with several inches already covering the sidewalk. Reaching into his tan trench coat, The Floridian pulls out a bullet can - raising it to greet the camera crew before downing it. Discarding the empty in a snowbank, Flo staggers over to the shoot - drunkenly waving his claw at the large building behind him.
Florida Man:
A PROPER BEER Museum. Can you believe it... finally, history worth celebrating.
Pulling another Sapporo bullet can out of his pocket, FML gestures towards a nearby bench, then starts lurching towards it.
Florida Man:
I love Japan. It's one of my favourite Florida states. Only, THEY rarely fly your boy out here...
Arriving at the bench, the Sunshine State Stud runs a claw across it, knocking off most of the snow, before falling back into a seated position.
Florida Man:
You know... at Raison D'Etre 3... I lost to Kira. ...And the minute he'd gotten his win, I couldn't get booked if my life depended on it. Even with new management in Suzuki, it was like they were done with me. Very old school way to handle talent. Reminded me of the territories. So... now a year later, I find myself in the exact same situation... taking on Kira. Loser leaves town. Man would it be sweet to drive him from HIS fed. A fitting revenge. ...but despite being the better wrestler, I didn't pull it off last year. I could lose. Goodbye J-RoK... farewell Japan.
Sighing, FML finds the now empty can cold against his claw, and decides to crush it with his head. Those bullet cans are tough - but mind over matter.
Florida Man:
That happens... and I'm no longer with the company. Only chance I'd have to keep appearing? I'd need a strap. A strap won in a title contest that was already scheduled. A Hardcore strap! LIKE OUR MATCH. That's the dang ticket. Yeah, you'd be my safety net, Steve. (chuckle) Not to worry. I aim to put Kira down for the count... only... doesn't change the fact that OUR fight would be another high stakes "who still has a job" tussle. Only not my livelihood on the line. ...Oh no. This is about your future in the company. We all know you're just a guest star. You don't bleed J-RoK. Far as you'e concerned, this gig might as well be another Shitstorm movie. All we are to you is an extended shoot... No title? You leave.
Shaking his head, Florida Man produces another bullet can.
Florida Man:
You sign the Bastards up for the Sakura Tag league? How about the Anointed? Nah, no glory in tag work. Wouldn't want folks to think you were a regular. Not Steve Awesome, the big man from Hardkore World. Oh no, Steve is only in Japan as a fabulous guest star... title holder, prominent card position, frequent bookings. Appreciation was never on the table...
You've had a good run, Steve.
Living high off the fat of the land.
....But all good things must come to an end... and I've got a bullet with your name on it.
Cracking open the next bullet can, FML raises it in his opponents honour before sloshing it back.
Florida Man:
Parade of 1000 Demons. First one? I got to the semi-finals, before losing to local legend, Dylan Black. I BLED for your championship, Steve. Came just shy of taking it, losing to the eventual winner. Only to keep the semi-injured death match workers from really hurting themselves, J-RoK decided future challengers would be on a voluntary basis... read "wrestlers actively challenge regardless of rankings OR merit." That's reasonable. Only to shore up guest stars, and give the J-RoK boys time to heal, participants in the tournament for the belt weren't actually allowed in the first waves of challengers. So the guys that actually put the work in? We got shafted for the Johnny Snipers of the world... just like the Sakura league that's about to kick off, you couldn't be bothered to join that first demon parade, could you, Steve? At least we see the blueprint for your current embarrassment of riches...
Crushing another can, Florida Man tries to get it in the recycling bin - only to miss completely, because he's had quite a bit to drink. Learning is fun.
Florida Man:
Me? If not for Black, I'd be the inaugural champ... so I figured I should be his first challenger. When that didn't go down... I sure as hell wasn't gonna join the cue. Hell, I might not even know how to write my own name. So me and your Hardcore title was at an impasse.
...But going back to that Kira loss at Raison 3...
2023... J-RoK hasn't really used me. They got a big roster of hungry talent in similar situations, and I guess I was 2021's flavour of the month. It happens. My lizard brain understands... to a degree... almost makes sense of it. Pavlovian conditioning. Like how the producers of your films offer you more money to do worse scripts. You ever read a good script, Steve, and go: "God dang, imma gonna take a pay cut for this... we need to insist on more fart jokes and less Sophie's Choice!" I know you do, buddy. I'm a BIG fan of your movies. ...So J-RoKers don't book me, they WANT me to book myself.
They want your Shitstorm Lovin' Florida Man to demand a Hardcore shot...
Homie don't play that game.
So instead, I bided my time... and instead of asking, I WON my place at the table.
Worth noting Steve, this is your first challenger that actually EARNED his shot. Wonder if that'll be a factor in the result? Like you could have been beaten at any time, if the challenger system wasn't derived from Hobo Fight mechanics. ...Incidentally, I'm good at those too. Only for all the Snipers, Kubos, and Zolothatchs that they fed to you.... I was stuck waiting!
...Which doesn't even include being the official champ defending a J-RoK strap at XHF global events.
In 2023, you appeared as an guest on at least FIFTEEN company events.... not taking away from the skills that got you there, but that is FIFTEEN slots that could have gone to a hungry J-RoK star. THIS HUNGRY J-ROK STAR!
And now... for all the stars this division fed you... it's MY TURN TO FEAST.
If the alligator mask had any functionality, Florida Man would lick his lips. Having run out of beer, the deranged meth dealer decides to fall asleep on the bench. Alcohol has lowered the cold blooded killer's temperature to the point that he hardly feels the snowy blanket.
...Should the Floridian ever wake up, Steve Awesome might be in trouble.
In his youth, Florida Boy remembers them being dry, stuffy places - only a few skeletons separating them from being the dusty mausoleums that were libraries. The central air would attract him into these houses of learning on hot days, but there was only so much running around the Floridian youth could get away with before a priceless vase was broken, or a security guard demanded he put his pants back on. Higher education snobs. Dozens of formative moments based around wanting the mummies to roar to life, only to get let down, had left Florida Man of the opinion that museums weren't for him...
...If only he'd come to Japan sooner.
Sapporo.
Your friendly globe trotting smuggler of knockoff iPhones, Florida ManG, is currently stomping around the Hokkaido region of Japan for the Holidays, in anticipation of two career defining matches at the Tsukimasu Green Dome. There is a lot of pressure built on the combination punch of J-RoK's two night Raison D'Etre 4 show. Tension mounted until the gator-faced luchador had to hit the town as a distraction. What to do in Sapporo? Take in a wrestling show? No. That would defeat the purpose of this excursion. Fans may question why the Sunshine State Stud chooses to wear his mask at all times, but the scaly green visage reminds authorities that he is a wrestler, and has probably gotten him out of the drunk tank more times than he can count. Not that Florida Man was ever that good at counting, math, or numbers, to begin with. At the moment, a security guard escorts FML out of a museum... but not because of the reptile's unruly behaviour, rather because it's closing time.
Florida Man (holding up index finger):
One more minute, please?
Unable to speak English, the guard simply shakes his head "No," and having gotten their last visitor through the door, smiles politely before locking up.
Florida Man:
Dang.
Disappointed, Florida Man kicks the air, before looking up at the building in awe.
Florida Man:
...I would miss Japan.
Not even bothering to lift his feet, FML relies on a light accumulation of slush to glide down the steps. Snow is falling, with several inches already covering the sidewalk. Reaching into his tan trench coat, The Floridian pulls out a bullet can - raising it to greet the camera crew before downing it. Discarding the empty in a snowbank, Flo staggers over to the shoot - drunkenly waving his claw at the large building behind him.
Florida Man:
A PROPER BEER Museum. Can you believe it... finally, history worth celebrating.
Pulling another Sapporo bullet can out of his pocket, FML gestures towards a nearby bench, then starts lurching towards it.
Florida Man:
I love Japan. It's one of my favourite Florida states. Only, THEY rarely fly your boy out here...
Arriving at the bench, the Sunshine State Stud runs a claw across it, knocking off most of the snow, before falling back into a seated position.
Florida Man:
You know... at Raison D'Etre 3... I lost to Kira. ...And the minute he'd gotten his win, I couldn't get booked if my life depended on it. Even with new management in Suzuki, it was like they were done with me. Very old school way to handle talent. Reminded me of the territories. So... now a year later, I find myself in the exact same situation... taking on Kira. Loser leaves town. Man would it be sweet to drive him from HIS fed. A fitting revenge. ...but despite being the better wrestler, I didn't pull it off last year. I could lose. Goodbye J-RoK... farewell Japan.
Sighing, FML finds the now empty can cold against his claw, and decides to crush it with his head. Those bullet cans are tough - but mind over matter.
Florida Man:
That happens... and I'm no longer with the company. Only chance I'd have to keep appearing? I'd need a strap. A strap won in a title contest that was already scheduled. A Hardcore strap! LIKE OUR MATCH. That's the dang ticket. Yeah, you'd be my safety net, Steve. (chuckle) Not to worry. I aim to put Kira down for the count... only... doesn't change the fact that OUR fight would be another high stakes "who still has a job" tussle. Only not my livelihood on the line. ...Oh no. This is about your future in the company. We all know you're just a guest star. You don't bleed J-RoK. Far as you'e concerned, this gig might as well be another Shitstorm movie. All we are to you is an extended shoot... No title? You leave.
Shaking his head, Florida Man produces another bullet can.
Florida Man:
You sign the Bastards up for the Sakura Tag league? How about the Anointed? Nah, no glory in tag work. Wouldn't want folks to think you were a regular. Not Steve Awesome, the big man from Hardkore World. Oh no, Steve is only in Japan as a fabulous guest star... title holder, prominent card position, frequent bookings. Appreciation was never on the table...
You've had a good run, Steve.
Living high off the fat of the land.
....But all good things must come to an end... and I've got a bullet with your name on it.
Cracking open the next bullet can, FML raises it in his opponents honour before sloshing it back.
Florida Man:
Parade of 1000 Demons. First one? I got to the semi-finals, before losing to local legend, Dylan Black. I BLED for your championship, Steve. Came just shy of taking it, losing to the eventual winner. Only to keep the semi-injured death match workers from really hurting themselves, J-RoK decided future challengers would be on a voluntary basis... read "wrestlers actively challenge regardless of rankings OR merit." That's reasonable. Only to shore up guest stars, and give the J-RoK boys time to heal, participants in the tournament for the belt weren't actually allowed in the first waves of challengers. So the guys that actually put the work in? We got shafted for the Johnny Snipers of the world... just like the Sakura league that's about to kick off, you couldn't be bothered to join that first demon parade, could you, Steve? At least we see the blueprint for your current embarrassment of riches...
Crushing another can, Florida Man tries to get it in the recycling bin - only to miss completely, because he's had quite a bit to drink. Learning is fun.
Florida Man:
Me? If not for Black, I'd be the inaugural champ... so I figured I should be his first challenger. When that didn't go down... I sure as hell wasn't gonna join the cue. Hell, I might not even know how to write my own name. So me and your Hardcore title was at an impasse.
...But going back to that Kira loss at Raison 3...
2023... J-RoK hasn't really used me. They got a big roster of hungry talent in similar situations, and I guess I was 2021's flavour of the month. It happens. My lizard brain understands... to a degree... almost makes sense of it. Pavlovian conditioning. Like how the producers of your films offer you more money to do worse scripts. You ever read a good script, Steve, and go: "God dang, imma gonna take a pay cut for this... we need to insist on more fart jokes and less Sophie's Choice!" I know you do, buddy. I'm a BIG fan of your movies. ...So J-RoKers don't book me, they WANT me to book myself.
They want your Shitstorm Lovin' Florida Man to demand a Hardcore shot...
Homie don't play that game.
So instead, I bided my time... and instead of asking, I WON my place at the table.
Worth noting Steve, this is your first challenger that actually EARNED his shot. Wonder if that'll be a factor in the result? Like you could have been beaten at any time, if the challenger system wasn't derived from Hobo Fight mechanics. ...Incidentally, I'm good at those too. Only for all the Snipers, Kubos, and Zolothatchs that they fed to you.... I was stuck waiting!
James Raymond’s Bloodsport.
Phantom of Guilt.
Bad Company.
Someday.
Under Pressure.
It's Not My Time.
...Which doesn't even include being the official champ defending a J-RoK strap at XHF global events.
In 2023, you appeared as an guest on at least FIFTEEN company events.... not taking away from the skills that got you there, but that is FIFTEEN slots that could have gone to a hungry J-RoK star. THIS HUNGRY J-ROK STAR!
And now... for all the stars this division fed you... it's MY TURN TO FEAST.
If the alligator mask had any functionality, Florida Man would lick his lips. Having run out of beer, the deranged meth dealer decides to fall asleep on the bench. Alcohol has lowered the cold blooded killer's temperature to the point that he hardly feels the snowy blanket.
...Should the Floridian ever wake up, Steve Awesome might be in trouble.