A message from Regina Skye
We open up to the scene of a press conference. A number of reporters, journalists and bloggers fill the chairs laid out in front of a podium. The door at the side of the room opens up and out steps Regina Skye, draped in a grey pinstripe suit, her blonde hair tied up in a neat bun at the back of her head.
She steps in front of the podium and holds up her left index finger in order to quieten the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, for those that do not know, my name is Regina Skye and I am the manager of the premier wrestler, “The Ripper” Danny B.
I am here this evening to discuss the result of the match with Duce Jones this past Tuesday at Evolution.
As we all know, this match ended in a time limit draw, the excuse being provided being that only a specific amount of time was allocated to the show, and as such the match could not be allowed to continue any longer. However, upon launching our own investigation, Dark Angel Talent has not been able to ascertain who has placed this restriction on the show, and indeed why it has only arisen in this instance. Therefore, considering the evidence we have available, and the fact that my client would have won if not for the interruption, we have decided that this was a deliberate malicious act against my client.
My client has already had legal complaints with this company in the past regarding ownership of the brand, a claim he kindly dropped in order to allow the brand to continue putting on shows unhindered, however, with this deliberate act now taken into consideration, Dark Angel Talent has teamed with Thorn & Partners law firm to pursue this and other legal complaints against the company.
This is all we have to say on the matter today, thank you.”
And with that, the room erupted as multiple voices began shouting their questions towards Regina, however, she paid no mind to anyone of them as she simply strolled out of the room through the door she had originally entered.
It’s not every day that a busy man gets time to just stop and enjoy some of the tourist attractions in town, something that Danny B had really missed doing in years gone by. But these days, with nothing more to worry about than getting ready for his matches. However, after having to make sure he was in the right place to battle the opponent the caliber of Duce Jones the previous week, Danny felt like he had more time to relax in this instance. After all, his opponent was Tom Marrow. Rather a step down from his previous week of competition, and as such, he felt fine. No worries in the world.
It was for this reason that he, rather than being in a gym, or a ring, or doing literally anything to prepare for this match, was standing in front of the elephant enclosure at Tampa Zoo, just watching the giant majestic creatures go about their day. Every now and again he was interrupted by a fan, which unlike usual, he accepted with grace, taking pictures and signing autographs, but for the most part, he just spent his time watching the animals do their thing.
“You know, I have spent so much time over the last ten years filling my time with other people. From the Master to Claudia, Amber to Scorpion, The Cyndicate to Lexi. Even when my companions haven’t been around, I spend my time with a staff member, or a former trainee, or someone. I have come to realise something lately, people really just fuck me off in general.”
A family walking past him as he spoke shot disapproving looks his way, not that he noticed. He simply continued to watch the elephants do their thing. Honestly, they weren’t doing much in this moment, kind of just ambling around, but this was entertaining enough for him at the moment.
“I know people are going to want me to talk about Tom Marrow, that’s what sells tickets after all right? Well, that’s what I thought, after all, that’s what I built my career on, but I’ll be honest, even after all these years I haven’t the faintest clue as to appease the CWF audience. So, quite frankly, as he poses about as much of a threat to me as wet mud, I shall reserve my comments on him for a little while, and instead, I am just gonna chill for a bit.”
As he finishes speaking, he takes his eyes off of the animals before, instead, turning his head to the sky. The sun burns bright on this clear Floridian day, dousing the entire zoo in brilliant light. Danny basks for just a moment, before finally turning away from the enclosure and starting his way towards the car park. He treads softly as he goes, revealing ever so slightly the damage inflicted during the previous match. But he walks, ignoring the soreness as people move out of his way, allowing him a direct and easy path towards the exit. It doesn’t take him long, and soon he finds himself in amongst many rows of cars.
He takes a moment to look at each he passes. For those not in the know, Danny is rather the petrolhead, and will often be seen in the best and brightest the motoring world has to offer. A quick pan over the park shows no obvious candidates, no bright orange Lamborghinis, no Bentleys waiting for him to climb into the back seat. Danny instead takes his time walking through the rows, admiring the cars as he goes.
“You know, I have been pondering my place in this tournament. It’s fair to say that I am definitely in the category of has-been at this point. Kind of like this ‘92 Dodge Viper. Man, when this thing came out I can imagine just how top of the range it felt. New and unique, people woulda stopped and stared as this thing roared past. Now though, it’s outdated and outmatched, kind of the way people look at me isn’t it? Not proving any better at this point either.”
He continues his path down the parking lot, taking in both the new and exciting looking vehicles, and the beat-up decades-old family cars, all to him were fascinating. He stopped by an Infinti FX, smirking a little.
“This one, this is Tom Marrow. Odd, strange, no one really wants it, but here it is, standing amongst the more regular things. The thing is, it might be the unwanted ugly duckling of the group, the thing that no one can admit they want around, but yeah, here it is.
Tom is an odd one, both in the ring and out. Now I ain’t gonna go after someone for their kinks, but I do know that when the bell rings, and that dog barks, I better not kick it too fucking hard least it start to try and hump me.”
That smile creeps across his face again, the self-doubt ebbing away as he spins the next few lines in his head.
“This is an unusual one for me. I’ll give you that, but it could be a fucking masterpiece when all is said and done. The reason I keep coming back, the reason I keep lacing up these boots is that when you dedicate this long to your art form, you cannot help but try and perfect it little by little, bit by bit. I have said time and time again that I want to return to my roots, become more of the monster I once was, and what a time to do that, when I have someone so willing to let me use him to paint the canvas red?
Tom is looking for a bounceback after a loss to Styles last week, looking to get on the scoreboard, and good for him. I might even be nice enough to allow him to get a few licks in before I pull on that leash and choke the fucking life out of old yeller. No matter what I do however, I can’t really win, because the only way to break him will be to leave him alone in the middle of the ring. No mind, I will come face to face with this diddler and I will take a few teeth for my collection.”
Danny finally turns away from the car, walking with a little more spring in his step, a little more purpose.
“The thing you fuckers don’t understand is that the more that you put me down, the more you hold me back, the more I want to tear that company apart seam by seam. I will take each and every one of you all and break you in half. Tom Marrow, to your pleasure, you get to be my whipping boy on this occasion, a stark reminder that this no fucking game to me. This isn’t a place for me to share my kink with the world, this isn’t a backdrop for me telling a twisting and winding tale of personal discovery. I am sick to holy fuck of these fucking emo wannabes who have a crap life away from the camera spinning themselves to be something interesting. Tom, this is you, I imagine when the camera isn’t rolling you are the least interesting person on the planet, so when the opportunity arose for you to finally explore your sick and twisted fucking mind, you took it so hard in the ass that you can still taste it.
Suits me fine. Wanna know what my kink is Tom? Breaking people. Hell, if I had it my way, I would have this match changed so that I was allowed to do whatever the fuck I wanted without consequence. Alas, this is where we are, so I will use my obviously superior intelligence, my obviously superior skill, and by obviously superior wrestling ability to ensure that your use of the mask is no longer a command, but fucking mandatory.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, that’s mine. A perfect metaphor for me.”
He points down to the bottom of the row he is currently stomping down. Standing out a little from the row, mainly due to the length, was a Midnight Blue Mercedes SLS AMG Black.
“Perfect engineering, great in all situations, looks fucking fantastic and is something you all wish you could have, just once. Yeah, I might be going back to my roots a little, but I ignored something vital when I thought about that. I was a crapshoot at the start, I was one of these million Ford F150’s here. Didn’t stand out, was just like everyone else. But my new friends the elephants reminded me of something, never forget. Never forget where you have come from, and never forget what you have learned.
It allowed me to remember one thing. I am already better that you. So, take that, tap into raw power, sheer drive force, and you have this Merc, and you have me. Better than the rest, dangerous by design, and perfect in execution.
Tom. Buddy. Pal. You’re my test dummy.
Have at you kid.”
With that, he walked towards the car, ready to speed off into the sunset. Danny’s new troupe, vanish at the end of the piece, this modern-day Ripper, but the old one hadn’t vanished forever. He leaned over his shoulder as he walked, flashing a red eye as he does so.
A flick of the wrist and a silver flash could be seen for a brief second before a blackout of the feed was accompanied with the smash of glass. The growl of a V8 is heard as it comes to life, soon dissipating into the air as the car roars away.