A Night to Never Forget (Tribute to Steve and Mike, RIP)
Mar 2, 2024 19:05:36 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by Hyperion on Mar 2, 2024 19:05:36 GMT -5
January 22nd, 2024.
The day the world stood still, all eyes on TV screens, tears streaming down faces and stomachs in a knot.
The 2nd passing in a short lapse of time, and one close to home to the foundation of the XHF. A legend, a long-time household name, suddenly taken from us.
Steve Awesome, Superstar, Legend, Hall of Fame, one of the best to ever do it. Taken too soon, a man too good for this world. Too good for this place. The XHF didn’t appreciate you enough while you were here, and it will mourn your loss for years after.
“This one, I remember his face. I remember his wit and fire. He was a worthy fighter and a good adversary.”
Watching the television screen of the SCCW locker room, Hyperion can’t help but stare at the news of Steve’s passing, his former federation friend and teammate. Knox sits on a bench, taken aback by the news while the ghostly apparition of the Titan stands alongside him.
“Fuck… Steve. We weren’t rock solid close or anything, but we talked. We shot the shit. We had a friendly banter, we had a good rapport. And now… fuck.”
“Time claims all, none can escape that truth. Alas, far too soon for a champion of his caliber to fall.”
Knox sits there, head in his hands, preparing for a match that no longer makes sense. Steve Awesome, an XHF Network legend who welcomed him with open arms. Many of the old guard stick to their cliques, many stick to their old ways. Shut off from new faces and friends, sticking to their guns.
Steve was different, Steve was an open book. He will be long remembered by those old and young, new and seasoned. The XHF lost a true immortal that day.
March 2nd, 2024.
Heartache has turned from grief to sadness, to rage and anger. The list of names departing us too is growing, and the current climate of the world around him is burning to a slow death.
The XHF is decaying, and the turn of time of taking more and more living legends from this place. Rules and obligations seep into the foundation of this business, dominating the joy and cheer that once soaked the halls of the XHF, now replaced with corporate bullshit and backstage corruption.
“Are we ready for this?”
Knox stands in front of an old building, long since dormant and dead. A place he once called home, a place that helped start his tenure in the XHF. Flanked by the voices in his head and the cool winter wind at his back, Knox sits on his parked motorcycle and stares at the worn and tattered sign - Ascension Wrestling Federation.
“This place once housed great warriors, a home for lost wanderers and fighters. A refuge for those chasing dreams and infamy.”
“Yeah… like we were, once upon a time. And now look at it… a shitty, empty building that looks like every other failure in this damn town.”
Bethesda, Ohio. Home of the former AWF, home of Knox and Hyperion, and the first place where the duo met the rocker boy Tommy Strychnine.
“I’ve known two Tommy’s out of this place, and both were fucking rockstars in their own right. Tommy Kelly, our StormCrow that flew too close to the sun. And Tommy Strychnine, who set the fucking place on fire.”
Knox eyes up the front of the building, the doors locked up with a 'Foreclosure' sign on the window. The outside has fallen into disrepair, and the time that has passed without maintenance has broken it down into yet another empty office space.
“Strychnine was something else, I met him backstage one night and we shot the shit. Not long, not for any reason, but the dude… he has style. He liked my leather jacket, I liked his headband, we talked about bikes, broads, and battleaxes.”
“Axes? I do not remember this.”
“Guitars, Hype. It’s slang for a guitar. The guy liked to rock, we liked the same music, and he had the same dreams and aspirations I had. Just he was younger, more likable and not haunted by a fucking demon in his brain like me.”
“Would I not know how weak you are without me, I might take offense to that.”
Knox walks to the front door of the former AWF head office and rattles the door, hoping to pry it open. Failing, he peers inside the window and spies some faces and names along the wall. AWF stars for sure, but XHF legends adorn those walls. Pictures of the great names that helped grow the network, pictures of those that came before him and paved the way for Knox to compete.
"If there is one thing I won’t miss, it’s that fat fucking mug right there.”
Hyperion appears next to Knox, peering in the window alongside him.
“The Destroyer.”
“Mongo. That fat fuck pushed rules and obligations on everyone for so long, made everyone fight and bicker and their moment in the sun. Abide by his rules, listen to his executives, follow his fat fucking lead on everything this network does.”
“The man gathered his former guard, brought back his legends of the ring, and built a foundation around them. He is owed his moment on the throne, much like Zeus. But, much like Zeus, it was only a matter of time before those he ruled would turn against him.”
Spying the names and faces on the wall, Knox sees former allies and former foes. Those he fought with, fought against, and fought for.
“Steve said something to me, that night at Call to Arms… I’ve never let it go, and it never left my brain. Now more than ever, I can’t get his words out of my head.”
“I recall his words, I was there with you.”
“He said, ‘Hyperion, Knox, whoever you are… finish your story, ‘cos it was fucking awesome’, and I didn’t know what he meant at the time. I thought he meant the match, the Call to Arms fight we were about to walk into.”
Knox paces the front of the building, letting his thoughts linger for a bit before returning to his bike.
“He wanted us to finish our story, he wanted us to do what we set out to do. He wanted us, US, to stick to the plan.”
“And that plan is?”
Knox smiles, looking at the apparition of Hyperion.
“He wants to us finish our story. Isn’t that obvious?”
Hyperion looks at Knox, with a somewhat perplexed look on his face but slowly it all becomes clear.
“So… we are to repeat our success of a past to Call to Arms, reuniting with Diamond and the Bastard. And then, I take it we are to return to our home?”
Knox smiles, a somewhat menacing grin on his face. Oddly, Hyperion mirrors this exactly.
“Mongo fucked this Network from the beginning, enforcing bullshit rules and putting people through hoops for nothing. Which fed gets top of the list on his website, which person gets to hold his bullshit crown, which GM gets to kiss his feet the most. Meaningless work for an abysmal reward.”
Knox sits on his bike, gearing up to drive. Hyperion stands in front of him, watching him strap his helmet to his head.
“Steve Awesome saw right through the red tape from the beginning, and Rat Bastard opened my eyes even more. Even Jack Diamond, the success of his ventures and his own business was controlled by Mongo. ‘The Diamond Lounge’ became Mongo’s little pitch piece to offer when coercing more investors to his conglomerate.”
Hyperion leans forward, hands on the handlebars of Knox’s Harley.
“Are we to vanquish the Destroyer once and final?”
“Not yet, we have some other fools first. Each with their own reasons to fight. Death Trap, Mistress Discipline, Bloodied Fox… we’ve dabbled with them all before. We know the outcome that happens when the bell rings. Ding ding, we brawl, we toss them around, and one of us gets the win. I really don’t give a fuck who takes the prize, we are just a half dozen fighters grieving our lost friends.”
“Then why do we fight?”
“We fight… because we get a stage once more. We get to let people see what Mongo had in his hands, and what he is losing. His shitty politics and backstage collusion are driving more and more superstars away from this Network. Like this dead fed here, more will come to the same fate as the AWF. Dead, dormant, moved on from the XHF. Just like we need to do.”
Hyperion looks at Knox, understanding where this is going.
“Diamond and the Bastard have proven to be good allies, formidable counterparts to our power in these fights. Mistress is familiar with our prowess, Death Trap has pledged his adoration to our skills on multiple occasions, and Bloodied Fox is a long-time adversary since the halls of the AWF were alive with energy.”
He walks to Knox’s side, arms crossed.
“This fight only pads the pocked of the Destroyer, and does little to honor the names of those fallen. I am not seeing the picture here, why return to a dead federation, and why sign up for one more fight under the XHF banner?”
Knox kicks out the stand of his bike, firing up his engine with a smirk on his face.
“Steve told us to finish our story, and Tommy told us what we needed to hear. Steve helped us understand our purpose, and Tommy gave us the recipe for success. All that’s left is to do what we have always spoken about.”
Knox revs up the engine of the bike, Hyperion still standing firm by his side.
“Let’s bury the dead. Steve Awesome. Tommy Strychnine. And the XHF Network. Not worth crying and mourning over what we’ve lost, let it go. Memories, history, a saga - it’s all behind us now. Our last night on the main stage for this company, a final Fuck-You to Mongo and his dying empire. One last look at the stars that are leaving for greener pastures.”
Hyperion unfolds his hands, and in a magical means his trident appears in his hand and his armor begins to glow. He transitions from a hallucination to the visage of a Golden God standing in place.
“Yeah you get it… one last tribute night to our fallen brothers, one last middle finger to the XHF. After that, it’s back to our roots. As Steve said, we need to finish our story. So let's do that.”
Knox revs the engine of his bike and lets the back wheel spin a little. Hyperion dissipates into a golden light, vanishing before Knox but letting his booming voice linger.
“We have a Church to rebuild.”
Knox peels off, leaving the AWF behind him once and for all. Leaving the memory of his former foes, allies, and conquests in that dead and empty building. A crypt, to remember the former glory of the world he left behind.
A Night to Remember. One last bash, to see the stars of old and new reunited. One last time.
RIP Steve Awesome
RIP Tommy Strychnine
RIP the XHF
The day the world stood still, all eyes on TV screens, tears streaming down faces and stomachs in a knot.
The 2nd passing in a short lapse of time, and one close to home to the foundation of the XHF. A legend, a long-time household name, suddenly taken from us.
Steve Awesome, Superstar, Legend, Hall of Fame, one of the best to ever do it. Taken too soon, a man too good for this world. Too good for this place. The XHF didn’t appreciate you enough while you were here, and it will mourn your loss for years after.
“This one, I remember his face. I remember his wit and fire. He was a worthy fighter and a good adversary.”
Watching the television screen of the SCCW locker room, Hyperion can’t help but stare at the news of Steve’s passing, his former federation friend and teammate. Knox sits on a bench, taken aback by the news while the ghostly apparition of the Titan stands alongside him.
“Fuck… Steve. We weren’t rock solid close or anything, but we talked. We shot the shit. We had a friendly banter, we had a good rapport. And now… fuck.”
“Time claims all, none can escape that truth. Alas, far too soon for a champion of his caliber to fall.”
Knox sits there, head in his hands, preparing for a match that no longer makes sense. Steve Awesome, an XHF Network legend who welcomed him with open arms. Many of the old guard stick to their cliques, many stick to their old ways. Shut off from new faces and friends, sticking to their guns.
Steve was different, Steve was an open book. He will be long remembered by those old and young, new and seasoned. The XHF lost a true immortal that day.
March 2nd, 2024.
Heartache has turned from grief to sadness, to rage and anger. The list of names departing us too is growing, and the current climate of the world around him is burning to a slow death.
The XHF is decaying, and the turn of time of taking more and more living legends from this place. Rules and obligations seep into the foundation of this business, dominating the joy and cheer that once soaked the halls of the XHF, now replaced with corporate bullshit and backstage corruption.
“Are we ready for this?”
Knox stands in front of an old building, long since dormant and dead. A place he once called home, a place that helped start his tenure in the XHF. Flanked by the voices in his head and the cool winter wind at his back, Knox sits on his parked motorcycle and stares at the worn and tattered sign - Ascension Wrestling Federation.
“This place once housed great warriors, a home for lost wanderers and fighters. A refuge for those chasing dreams and infamy.”
“Yeah… like we were, once upon a time. And now look at it… a shitty, empty building that looks like every other failure in this damn town.”
Bethesda, Ohio. Home of the former AWF, home of Knox and Hyperion, and the first place where the duo met the rocker boy Tommy Strychnine.
“I’ve known two Tommy’s out of this place, and both were fucking rockstars in their own right. Tommy Kelly, our StormCrow that flew too close to the sun. And Tommy Strychnine, who set the fucking place on fire.”
Knox eyes up the front of the building, the doors locked up with a 'Foreclosure' sign on the window. The outside has fallen into disrepair, and the time that has passed without maintenance has broken it down into yet another empty office space.
“Strychnine was something else, I met him backstage one night and we shot the shit. Not long, not for any reason, but the dude… he has style. He liked my leather jacket, I liked his headband, we talked about bikes, broads, and battleaxes.”
“Axes? I do not remember this.”
“Guitars, Hype. It’s slang for a guitar. The guy liked to rock, we liked the same music, and he had the same dreams and aspirations I had. Just he was younger, more likable and not haunted by a fucking demon in his brain like me.”
“Would I not know how weak you are without me, I might take offense to that.”
Knox walks to the front door of the former AWF head office and rattles the door, hoping to pry it open. Failing, he peers inside the window and spies some faces and names along the wall. AWF stars for sure, but XHF legends adorn those walls. Pictures of the great names that helped grow the network, pictures of those that came before him and paved the way for Knox to compete.
"If there is one thing I won’t miss, it’s that fat fucking mug right there.”
Hyperion appears next to Knox, peering in the window alongside him.
“The Destroyer.”
“Mongo. That fat fuck pushed rules and obligations on everyone for so long, made everyone fight and bicker and their moment in the sun. Abide by his rules, listen to his executives, follow his fat fucking lead on everything this network does.”
“The man gathered his former guard, brought back his legends of the ring, and built a foundation around them. He is owed his moment on the throne, much like Zeus. But, much like Zeus, it was only a matter of time before those he ruled would turn against him.”
Spying the names and faces on the wall, Knox sees former allies and former foes. Those he fought with, fought against, and fought for.
“Steve said something to me, that night at Call to Arms… I’ve never let it go, and it never left my brain. Now more than ever, I can’t get his words out of my head.”
“I recall his words, I was there with you.”
“He said, ‘Hyperion, Knox, whoever you are… finish your story, ‘cos it was fucking awesome’, and I didn’t know what he meant at the time. I thought he meant the match, the Call to Arms fight we were about to walk into.”
Knox paces the front of the building, letting his thoughts linger for a bit before returning to his bike.
“He wanted us to finish our story, he wanted us to do what we set out to do. He wanted us, US, to stick to the plan.”
“And that plan is?”
Knox smiles, looking at the apparition of Hyperion.
“He wants to us finish our story. Isn’t that obvious?”
Hyperion looks at Knox, with a somewhat perplexed look on his face but slowly it all becomes clear.
“So… we are to repeat our success of a past to Call to Arms, reuniting with Diamond and the Bastard. And then, I take it we are to return to our home?”
Knox smiles, a somewhat menacing grin on his face. Oddly, Hyperion mirrors this exactly.
“Mongo fucked this Network from the beginning, enforcing bullshit rules and putting people through hoops for nothing. Which fed gets top of the list on his website, which person gets to hold his bullshit crown, which GM gets to kiss his feet the most. Meaningless work for an abysmal reward.”
Knox sits on his bike, gearing up to drive. Hyperion stands in front of him, watching him strap his helmet to his head.
“Steve Awesome saw right through the red tape from the beginning, and Rat Bastard opened my eyes even more. Even Jack Diamond, the success of his ventures and his own business was controlled by Mongo. ‘The Diamond Lounge’ became Mongo’s little pitch piece to offer when coercing more investors to his conglomerate.”
Hyperion leans forward, hands on the handlebars of Knox’s Harley.
“Are we to vanquish the Destroyer once and final?”
“Not yet, we have some other fools first. Each with their own reasons to fight. Death Trap, Mistress Discipline, Bloodied Fox… we’ve dabbled with them all before. We know the outcome that happens when the bell rings. Ding ding, we brawl, we toss them around, and one of us gets the win. I really don’t give a fuck who takes the prize, we are just a half dozen fighters grieving our lost friends.”
“Then why do we fight?”
“We fight… because we get a stage once more. We get to let people see what Mongo had in his hands, and what he is losing. His shitty politics and backstage collusion are driving more and more superstars away from this Network. Like this dead fed here, more will come to the same fate as the AWF. Dead, dormant, moved on from the XHF. Just like we need to do.”
Hyperion looks at Knox, understanding where this is going.
“Diamond and the Bastard have proven to be good allies, formidable counterparts to our power in these fights. Mistress is familiar with our prowess, Death Trap has pledged his adoration to our skills on multiple occasions, and Bloodied Fox is a long-time adversary since the halls of the AWF were alive with energy.”
He walks to Knox’s side, arms crossed.
“This fight only pads the pocked of the Destroyer, and does little to honor the names of those fallen. I am not seeing the picture here, why return to a dead federation, and why sign up for one more fight under the XHF banner?”
Knox kicks out the stand of his bike, firing up his engine with a smirk on his face.
“Steve told us to finish our story, and Tommy told us what we needed to hear. Steve helped us understand our purpose, and Tommy gave us the recipe for success. All that’s left is to do what we have always spoken about.”
Knox revs up the engine of the bike, Hyperion still standing firm by his side.
“Let’s bury the dead. Steve Awesome. Tommy Strychnine. And the XHF Network. Not worth crying and mourning over what we’ve lost, let it go. Memories, history, a saga - it’s all behind us now. Our last night on the main stage for this company, a final Fuck-You to Mongo and his dying empire. One last look at the stars that are leaving for greener pastures.”
Hyperion unfolds his hands, and in a magical means his trident appears in his hand and his armor begins to glow. He transitions from a hallucination to the visage of a Golden God standing in place.
“Yeah you get it… one last tribute night to our fallen brothers, one last middle finger to the XHF. After that, it’s back to our roots. As Steve said, we need to finish our story. So let's do that.”
Knox revs the engine of his bike and lets the back wheel spin a little. Hyperion dissipates into a golden light, vanishing before Knox but letting his booming voice linger.
“We have a Church to rebuild.”
Knox peels off, leaving the AWF behind him once and for all. Leaving the memory of his former foes, allies, and conquests in that dead and empty building. A crypt, to remember the former glory of the world he left behind.
A Night to Remember. One last bash, to see the stars of old and new reunited. One last time.
RIP Steve Awesome
RIP Tommy Strychnine
RIP the XHF
