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 Jason Gabriel [vs] Griffin Hawkins

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Alex Dillinger

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Join date : 2012-12-06
Age : 31
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PostSubject: Jason Gabriel [vs] Griffin Hawkins   Thu Jul 25, 2013 6:53 am


SINGLES MATCH
Jason Gabriel
[vs]
Griffin Hawkins

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Stygian

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IWF Record: 0-0-0
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PostSubject: Re: Jason Gabriel [vs] Griffin Hawkins   Sun Jul 28, 2013 6:44 pm

-[OFF CAMERA]-

Every time I think my luck has run out, it seems to enjoy proving me wrong.  Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it.  Don’t get me wrong, plenty bad has happened in my life.  But good always seems to come along to balance it out.  But it’s not the bad luck I think about as I stare out the Indianapolis hotel room at the rising sun.  I think about the times I screwed up my own luck.  I think about the opportunities I’ve pissed away and wonder how many more I’ll be given if I keep pissing them away at this rate.  In the window, I catch the reflection of the half-naked blonde in my bed, lightly rolling over to escape the invading sliver of sunlight threatening to rouse her from slumber.

Would I want Vanessa if she wasn’t a wrestler?  Who wouldn’t?  Would I have met her without wrestling?  No.  Nor Jaci.  Nor Tina and Amber.  I’m not sure if I have Vanessa or if this is a protracted road fling.  To be honest, I don’t care at the moment.  But I wonder if this isn’t invariable, anyway.  Everything wrestling has given me; it’s taken away a short time later.  It gave me Christina, my erstwhile wife, and a madman in a mask handcuffed me to the ring and took her away.  It gave us Amber after we married, and took her from me, and ultimately Christina I suppose, a short time later.  It gave me Jaci Sovereign.  How the hell I hit that lottery a third time?  I don’t know.  And I should have bailed.  I never should have gone to Full Throttle Wrestling.  I should have followed the impulse I had; to wait for the divorce to come through and just marry Jaci.  But I had to get back in that ring.  The truth is, I got in the ring before I was ready.  I paid for it.  I started drinking because I saw Lilith and Lilah driven through that table every time I closed my eyes while I was alone.  I kept drinking when I’d go home and see her.  The drinking brought out the worst in me.  She left because she gave me the best of her, and got the worst in return.  I don’t blame her.

I could have stopped Jaci leaving, but I was too proud to do that.  I could have kept Christina and Amber away from this madness, but I liked showing off.  Whatever this thing with Vanessa is, however serious it does or doesn’t get…how long until my actions are responsible for her going away?  Or worse yet will I let that feeling of dread; will I let my history of running good women off because I can’t find the kind of gratification I need professionally, keep this thing with her from reaching its full potential?  Questions without answers.  No answers.  Fickle old bitches spinning a loom, and they won’t let you see the pattern until they’ve already woven it.  I can’t control this.  I can’t control any of it.  Maybe that’s why I grew my hair out and burned the old ring gear.  Like I can blame Stygian for all my problems.  Stygian’s vanity put Christina and Amber in the ring that night.  Stygian drinking and drove Jaci off.  Maybe it was time for Jason Gabriel to stand up and take responsibility for his own life.  

Vanessa murmurs incomprehensibly as she tries in vain to close her eyes and pretend like it’s not that time.  But, you don’t get a body like hers by blowing off the daily workout.  I don’t get one like mine by skipping workouts, either.  Her eyes open and she watches me a moment.  I’m not sure if I feel her eyes on me, or just see her reflection.  Either or.  I turn around and smile at her.  She kicks the covers off the bed and slides off the other side.  It’s time to hit the gym.


-[ON CAMERA]-

Jason Gabriel stands shirtless in a gym setting somewhere.  He wears black, knee-length mesh shorts with a white Nike swoosh at the bottom of the right leg and black and gold Nike Air Force 1 hightops from the tops of which nondescript black sweat socks protrude.  His uncharacteristically long black hair is bound with a simple black rubber band as fists bound in white cloth tape pound on a heavy bag repeatedly.

Jason Gabriel (Voiceover):  What is really in a name?  I mean really.  Not in the Shakespearean “roses smelling sweet” sense; I’m more into Voltaire and Aristotle.  But purely from a philosophical standpoint, what truly is in a name?

Jason throws a left jab, a low left hook and steps into a heavy right hand high.

Jason Gabriel (Voiceover):  George Carlin had a bit he’d do about names.  He implied, for comedic effect, that names had some kind of inherent power.  He’d say, “Who do you want on your side in a fight; Percy, Nigel, Seymour and Alfred, or Nitro, Skull, Hacksaw and Rhino?”  He posited that World War II would have been over a lot faster if we had been fighting, “Skip Hitler.”  

Jason leads with a right jab, throws a quick left, and finishes with a right elbow that starts in the ball of his foot, surges up through his legs and chest and explodes through his right arm into the bag.

Jason Gabriel (Voiceover):  Who would you rather be in a fight, Stygian, or Jason?

Jason steps back, plants his left foot, and drives his right straight into the bag.  His dreaded Spartan Kick, which seems to have gotten more lethal since his return to IWF.  The bag swings up and into a circular steel pipe fitted to a suspension system mounted into the ceiling, presumable placed there just in case anyone else saw Kickboxer and decided to try and be Jean-Claude Van Damme.  Jason stops it on the rebound with a right hand inot he bottom half of the bag to cancel out the kinetic energy.

He steps away, grabbing a St. Louis Cardinals water bottle from where it rests next to a similar gym bag and squirting some into his open mouth.  He fishes a black towel out of the bag and wipes perspiration from his face and neck, before hanging it around his shoulders as though it were a wrap meant to accessorize a high-end designer gown.  He walks away from the bench, smoothing down the tape over his forearms by twitsting them into the splayed fingers of the opposite hands one-by-one.  He swings his arms, trying to loosen them up as he walks.  The camera moves to keep him in frame as he walks out of the gym and onto a concrete terrace running down the length of the building.  He steps out of the shadow of the building, into the sun and leans forwards onto the wrought iron handrail framing the terrace.


Jason Gabriel:  Weather man says this is hot.  It’s like, 80, tops.  Humid, though.  But still, the people running around in tank tops and shorts, fanning themselves and looking up exasperatedly at the sun, like they’re trying to beg Apollo, or Ra or whoever to crank the dial down a little bit?  They make me laugh.

Jason pulls his phone from the pocket of his shorts and draws the unlocking pattern.  He pulls up the weather, which does indeed say it’s currently 80 degrees in Indianapolis, Indiana.  He taps the screen and flips through a screen keeping taps on Englewood, Colorado where he makes his home, until he draws up a screen that reads “Bullhead City, Arizona”.  The reading makes him smile.

Jason Gabriel:  One-oh-four.

He locks his phone again and returns it to his pocket, leaning upon the rail once again.

Jason Gabriel:  I like to think that because I grew up on Hell’s front porch that I know things about heat and pressure that nobody else does.  But of course, that’s bullshit.  Like everything else I used to say, it’s all bullshit.  Sometimes people create personas.  It isn’t just an entertainment thing, or a sports thing.  You see it there more, I’ll grant you.  We’ve all heard of athletes who were rampaging beasts on the field, and mild mannered men off of it.  I knew a guy in high school who was an All-American wrestler.  Nicest kid you  could know in the classroom.  When I saw him on the mat?  I’m reasonably sure it was only the timely intervention of the referee that kept him from killing a man.  He was a completely different beast that whole day.  If you talked to him at a meet?  He spoke in short, clipped growled sentences through gritted teeth.  If you said more than one sentence to him?  He gave you the kind of look that made you want to dig your own grave and jump in it.

Jason clears his throat and makes an uncertain “heh” noise.

Jason Gabriel:  I’d like to be able to say that was the genesis and purpose of Stygian, but it didn’t even come from so pure a place.  Truth be told?  It started in Japan.  Most significant developments in my career do.  True, like just about anyone else, I started out working for peanuts in high school gyms and piss-smelling arenas like we all did.  Place was called Golden State Wrestling, went up and down the California coast, sort of like a territory.  But come on…”JC Gage” who “pushed the Gage into the red line”?  That was going nowhere.  But I was seven feet tall, I was in good shape, and even buried under a generic badboy act, it was clear I had something.  When the scout from All Star Japan Wrestling came to see the Golden State Champion, a guy named Xander Black, and he proceeded to go out and fizzle?  That scout was disappointed, but for one shiny glint in the muck and mire.  He saw one tiny sliver of light in that heap of sewage that he thought might be a diamond, so the next week he came back for a second look.  After he saw what he needed to see, he hazarded getting his hands dirty, reaching into the filth to examine that lone bright spot buried on that card.  A seven foot tall kid called JC Gage who was fresh out of the service and still putting on muscle.  A diamond in the slime to be sure, but it would need to be cut and polished.  It would need the right setting to be admired by the masses.  Still, he whisked me away on a plane to Tokyo, like Carl Denham finding Kong on Skull Island.  

Jason Gabriel:  And like Kong I was locked in chains and put on display.  No, not literally; that might have been kinder.  Hey, a lot of you have probably been there, maybe you yourself have, Griffin Hawkins.  Is the Rock Star thing really you, or is it a part of you that someone dug up and said “you should wear it to the ring”.  I ask that because when I got to Japan, they threw me into a few matches to see what I had, and then they called me into the office and told me what I was going to do if I wanted to work there.  Not the first wrestler it’s happened to, probably won’t be the last.  So many of you started your career the same way, I’ll bet.  The promoter calls you in and says, big smile on his face, “You want to work here, kid?  Here’s what you’re gonna do.  You’re gonna dress this way, come out to this music, use these moves and here is your name.”  This was my turn to get that conversation, only, in Japanese through a translator.  

Jason shakes his head, turning to face the camera now, leaning back so his ass rests against the hand rail.

Jason Gabriel:  The chains they wrapped me in were another man’s clothes.  Another man’s success.  Because what’s wrestling if it’s not a copycat industry?  You ever notice rip-offs seem to go East to West?  We rip off music from the United Kingdom all the time.  Rock and roll, heavy metal, etcetera.  Well one thing they do in Japan?  They are obsessed with American culture the way we’re fixated on British culture.  So when they got their hands on an able-bodied seven footer who didn’t speak the language?  They wrapped him in a package which was better off if he didn’t speak.  It added to the mystique that I didn’t talk for the year and a half it took me to learn Japanese.  I was given a name, and told I would be imitating a much more famous American wrestler.  Who?  Well, I was called The Reaper, came out to funeral organ music and I know the Tombstone Piledriver very well; you do the math.

Jason Gabriel:  Like Kong, I was given a grandiose name, wrapped in bondage and put on display for the amusement of a crowd in a foreign land.  They paired me with a pretty, fledgling American model who could speak Japanese, I later married her.  Because it looked good, they also paired me with a beautiful Japanese model as a second valet.  What’s the first thing you think of when you think of Stygian?  For a lot of you, it’s probably Lilith and Lilah.  One of the fundamental precepts of the persona, and I didn’t develop it.  It started on someone else’s whim in Japan.  When Ayaka didn’t want to come to the US with us, Mike Nelson paired us up with a former UNLV cheerleader because he liked the look so much.

Jason pushes off the rail and wipe his brow on the towel again, he moves back into the shade and sits down on a bench built into the side of the building.

Jason Gabriel:  So you see, that was the genesis of Stygian.  I started my career imitating another man whose career will always far out-stripe my own.  When I came to the US I was told to do an imitation of that imitation, allowed to make it just enough my own so that a lawsuit didn’t come down from New England.  By the time I’d made a name for myself?  I was trapped in that role.  I believed in the persona I’d lost myself in.  When the foundation of the persona was cracked, it ultimately came undone.  The end of Stygian came at the hands of Death Angel.  When he cuffed me into that corner and destroyed Lilith and Lilah?  He made Stygian mortal.  Only Stygian thought he was still immortal.  The flaw met its logical conclusion at the hands of Matt Ford in Full Throttle Wrestling.  So there’s the answer to the trivia question, boys and girls.  Who was the Dragonslayer?  Death Angel and Matt Ford killed the dragon.

Jason takes a deep breath and lets that sink in.

Jason Gabriel:  Full Throttle Wrestling…that debacle was the ultimate expression of an inevitable flaw in my career.  The truth is simple; I never should have gotten in the ring again after what Death Angel did to my family.  Would that have saved my marriage?  As she was walking out, she told me no, it wouldn’t have.  But I would have gotten out of this business and I probably would have married Jaci Sovereign.  I would have finally taken the path my education laid out for me.  I probably would have been happy.  Because that’s the thing about this business and the way it works.  This business has given me everything, made me everything I am today.  But everything this business gives me, it seems to delight in turning around an taking away from me.

Jason Gabriel:  “But Jason, what about that rumor about you and Vanessa Cade?” some of you may ask.  First off?  None of your fucking business.  It’s between her and me.  Second off?  There’s another beautiful, remarkable woman I met because of this business.  In nearly ten years, I haven’t had a relationship with a woman that didn’t come from this business.  And remember what I said about his business givin me things?

Jason laughs dismissively, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare directly into the camera.

Jason Gabriel:  So…why did I come back at all?  I said I should have rode off into the sunset, and I could have.  Just fade back into the crowd and leave a short legacy of dominance, like Sandy Koufax.  It’s not that I don’t know anything else.  It’s not that I don’t have other career paths.  Hell, I’ve made more money out of the ring than in it.  I don’t need the crowd, or the adulation.  I don’t need people kissing my ass and signing autographs.  I don’t need shameless ring rats showing up to my hotel at 2am wearing nothing but an overcoat.  We know these things come with the business, and some of us need them.  Some of us stay in the business for the roar of the crowd and the spreading of questionable legs.  But that’s not why I came back.  The reason I came back, Griffin Hawkins, is the same reason I didn’t want this fight with you.

Jason Gabriel:  I’m not afraid of you, Griffin.  I’m not afraid of any man.  Because when you look at those two hellholes good old Dubya…since you’re Canadian allow me to elucidate: that’s a derisive nickname for President George Walker Bush…of the two hellholed Dubya dropped us into?  I did time in both of them.  Yeah, I was a tech for the Air Force; but I still saw The Reaper’s work.  I saw caravans that went out with five vehicles, and returned with three.  I saw collections of bloody rags who had been men sitting across the chow tent from me that morning frantically dragged into the medical tent as they hooked machines up to them an tried to save their lives.  I saw more flag-draped coffins than I ever thought I’d see.  My fear comes on a different level and from a different place than anyone can inflict upon me in a wrestling ring.  So really?  Bret Michaels after a session of Tae Bo doesn’t scare me.

Jason Gabriel:  I wasn’t scared of you, Griffin Hawkins.  I just didn’t want to fall slave to that name again.  You don’t give a shit about Jason Gabriel, you want to try and beat Stygian to make your dick bigger.  Nothing new.  That doesn’t make you special or unique.  That doesn’t inspire me.  What it does?  It pisses me off.  It’s not the slap in the face, or that little pouty look you gave me when you made the challenge…it was the fact that you’re another guy who wants to slay the Black Dragon, even though it’s already been done and at this point you can only engage in a glorified form of necrophilia; or perhaps beating a dead horse.  I didn’t wind up taking this match because of what I did to Thor.  I took this match because you pissed me off.  You can go on about respect and the challenge…if that’s what’s going to wave your flag?  Fine.  Me, I’m pissed off!

Jason stands again, walking towards the door.  The camera cuts to back inside the gym as he walks in.

Jason Gabriel:  I hate to borrow from someone like Emimem, but, “I’ve created a monster!  Nobody wants to see Jason no more, you want The Dragon.  I’m chopped liver.”

Jason reaches out and tags a speed bag with one good punch to set it bouncing back and forth on the swivel board it hangs from.

Jason Gabriel:  I came back because up until last week in Oklahoma City?  I have never stood in that ring as my own man.  I was so tired of hearing the crap.  I heard it all.  I wasn’t’ so tough.  I wasn’t that good.  I wouldn’t get on the card if I didn’t have the eye candy to draw their attention.  I wouldn’t get noticed if I didn’t play up the creepy vibe.  I only won because I played head games and cultivated a scary image.  Yeah, that’s what it was.  You guys seem to forget that 77% winning percentage.  You forget five world titles.  You forget that you’ve now had the UECW championship in your possession for as long as I once did; but the difference is you got to take it home when the company closed and I defended the damn thing week in and week out.

Jason Gabriel:  Someone might just say I owe my whole career to Stygian.  You know what I owe him?  A staph infection that nearly cost me my arm.  I owe him a drinking problem that alienated me from one of the few genuinely nice people I’ve met in this business; male or female.  I owe him a divorce.  I owe him flashbacks that still wake me up in the middle of the night screaming my ex-wife’s name as I see her driven through that table over and over again.  I owe him the awkward conversation I’ve had to had with two different women now about how that night continues to haunt me.  I owe Stygian a top notch promotion that I can never set foot in again because I was so obsessed with living up to his fucking pride that I drank and swore and raised hell in the point where when I left, I’m sure they breathed a sigh of relief.  

Jason shakes his head.

Jason Gabriel:  It’s easy to look at the women and say I owe that to Stygian.  Lilith, Lilah, Jaci Sovereign, Vanessa Cade?  Yeah, just about any heterosexual male would kill for just ten minutes woth any one of them.  It’s easy to look at the five world titles and say I owe them to Stygian.  It’s easy to look at my obscenely large house in Englewood, Colorado and say I owe it to Stygian.  It would be easy to look at my whole life and say I owe it all to Stygian.

Jason shakes his head with a foreboding chuckle.

Jason Gabriel:  That’s why I drove that DeLorean to San Antonio.  That’s why I came out and hit the kind of bomb in Oklahoma City that they wished Kevin Durant had hit again the San Antonio Spurs a month ago.  And that is why I am going to come down to that fucking ring in Indianapolis and kick-stop your fucking heart Griffin Hawkins.  Everyone thought it was the dragon.  Everyone thought it was the trench coat, the Tron lines, the pyro and the pretty girls.  But that’s all been stripped away.  No smoke machine flooded the ring when I force fed Shata’thor his teeth from the heel of my boot last week.  I didn’t light him on fire and make the dragon wings against a backdrop of pyro.  That was me.  That was flesh and bone.  That was my heart pumping my blood.

Jason Gabriel:  So when I come to the hallowed home of Hoosier Nation and beat down the former world champion?

Jason shrugs.

Jason Gabriel:  You called this the greatest test of your career.  This is the first test of my life.  Standing in that ring as my own man, with my own name.  Carrying the state flag of my home state on my back and making my name my own for once in my career.  I’m not some mutated freakish distortion of a guy who started his career while I was still in grade school.  I’m not the shitty knock off Mike Nelson and Eric Telfor evolved him into like a reject Pokemon.  I know you said you don’t care what the name is, Griff.  You say I’m the same guy.  That’s why you’ve pissed me off.  You’re coming into this match looking for a dragon scale to take home as a trophy.  But I shed that skin.  I did it because I have to know.  I have to know it in my heart, and I have to show it to the world.  And maybe, like KISS taking off the makeup, I will be worse off than I was.  We all know KISS sucked without their stage personas.  Maybe I should go out right now, buy a trench coat, charter a flight to get Lilith here and walk down to that ring with her and Lilah.  But to be honest?  Doing that scares me.  I’ve been in a tailspin since Death Angel destroyed my family.  I’ve been floundering.  I’ve been running from that dark night, and the demons that have haunted me ever since.  No more.  I didn’t ditch the name Stygian and the persona that came with it because I’m afraid of being remembered as a cheesy novelty act.  I didn’t think I could hide from my demons by changing my clothes and using a different name in that ring.  I changed to my real name because when I get in the ring and beat those demons one-by-one?  I want the nme in the record books to say “Jason Gabriel”.

Jason whips the towel off his shoulders and into the red Cardinals bag.  He drags a black t-shirt out of it and turns his back to the camera to pull it on.  Without turning back, he speaks.

Jason Gabriel:  You say you want to challenge yourself against the best?  You say that this match is all about respect?  Fine, I’ll take your at your word.  I’ll take your kind words, in fact, they have truly touched my heart.

Jason turns around to reveal that he’s wearing an old UECW-era Kaden Kessler shirt, the one that just says “DRAGONSLAYER”.

Jason Gabriel:  And now my foot is gonna truly touch your ass.  If you win, you’ll say you beat Stygian.  Oh how good for you.  But when you lose?  What are you going to tell yourself…when Jason Gabriel beats you?

Jason shrugs and hauls his gym bag up onto his shoulder, leaving that question to hang in the air as he walks out,a nd the screen fades to black.

____________________________________________________________________________




(1/29/12 - 2/13/12)
(9/30/12 - 11/25/12)

(12/4/11 - 1/29/11)
Relinquished to become the #1 Contender for the IWF Title.

@ Corey Casey: If Styg wanted ur opinion
@ Corey Casey: He'd take his dick out yo mouth


Figeffect: ...Why am I talking about Styg's sentient penis?


@Steel Angel: congrats Styg, you just earned yourself douchebag of the year Razz


Jaxx Ryder: see what happens when you pick a fight with an evil genius? You get schooled lol

--Said in deference to the master.

@Parker: Stygian be scary.


Last edited by Jason Gabriel on Mon Jul 29, 2013 1:52 am; edited 2 times in total
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Griffin Hawkins

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Location : The State of Euphoira

PostSubject: Re: Jason Gabriel [vs] Griffin Hawkins   Sun Jul 28, 2013 9:47 pm

(OOC- Sorry its short..had a long week)

I sit at the bottom of the stairs on this somber night in Indianapolis. The camera man pans out as he gets a closer look at me as I am dressed in black ripped jeans and a Fear Factory T-shirt. The silver aviator shades mask my eyes as I lean against the wall. I crack my knuckle..making a fist as I lean against the wall. I finally speak after taking a deep breath.

"This cliche is heard a lot...but the greatest battle ever is just hours away from taking place. I face a man who I have never faced in my career...ever. I face the man who was once referred to as The Black Dragon. I go one on one with none other than Jason Gabriel. A man who was revered as the be all end all of Insurgency back when he was known as Stygian. These days he doesn't go by that name anymore. He goes by Jason Gabriel. He has something to prove in this match. No longer is he known as The Dragon..no longer is he Insurgency's superhero. As the song goes...Superman is dead. He decided to go by his name. But names and monikers don't matter in this match, for this is a battle of respect. When he made short work of Sah'ta Thor..that tells the whole story. he is ready. I will be on my game as always..but will this new you be on your game Jason?.."

Honestly, I didn't care what he called himself. I was ready for war.

"Jason..I am a lot like you. Starting out at the bottom and being told that I would never make it. Being told that I would amount to absolutely nothing..that I was just some gimmick. I was kicked out of an elite stable by the leader who had done nothing but take credit for my success since day one. He said that I was nothing without him or the group and that it would be just a matter of time before I would come crawling back..or just fade into obscurity. And a lot believed him..they never gave me a chance. I wasn't supposed to succeed, I wasn't supposed to win Championships on my own and get to the top of every company I ever worked for..but I did. I did everything people said that I would never do..just like you. There were times when people doubted you, but like me you made them eat their words. But how will it feel to eat your own words?"

I pull out a cigarette and place it in my mouth, lighting it up. I continue my spiel as I hold the cig in my hands.

"To answer your question Jason...no, I'm not some gimmick. What you see is the real me. I'm not some character some marketing genius slapped on me to sell T-Shirts and DVDs and action figures. What you see is the real deal. That's why many people despise me..because I am able to be myself and say whatever is on my mind. And that intimidates them. I represent the disenfranchised and the mistreated souls out there who were told that they would amount to nothing. My reign as Champion didn't last long because the powers that be at the time didn't want someone like me representing Insurgency. That's why I made it my mission to recapture the Gold. You and me both are no strangers to Gold. We both know what it's like to be on top of the mountain."

It would be interesting if myself and Gabriel clashed one day for the World Heavyweight Title.

"Like you I was the UECW World Heavyweight Champion. But I guess you never saw my reign because I defended the belt month in and month out just like you. I took on all comers who wanted the belt. David Caid, Allison Cooper, The Dark Angel, Aries Armadaist, Jack Savage, they all tried and failed. I was the last ever UECW World Heavyweight Champion..something that Alexander Remington tried..and failed to take away from me. When people think back on the history of UECW..they'll think of the both of us as two of the most dominant Champions in history. But UECW is dead and buried..Insurgency lives. The both of us are looking to go back to the top of the food chain, and if we have to go through eachother...then so be it."

I take another puff of the cig before stretching out my feet.

"You may not be the Black Dragon no more..but you are still a man. Now, I'm not one of those young punks looking to make a name for himself at your expense and use you as a stepping stone. Since I came to this company I heard all the words about the almighty Stygian...and I wanted to one day step in the ring and see if The Rock Soldier can stand up to Superman. But after Death Angel assaulted your loved ones..you took your time off and left the company. And now here I stand...face to face with you.."

I flick away the cigarette butt and look at the camera. I take off my sunglasses so my eyes can be seen.

"You take a look into these eyes Jason...do I look scared to you? I don't fear anyone on this roster. Nobody on this earth scares me. The only man I fear is the Tax man..and he doesn't wrestle anymore. You know that I respect you and all that you've done Jason. A victory over you would be a feather in my cap...a victory for you over me would prove that you still got it..that somewhere deep inside..there is a little bit of The Black Dragon left in the tank. You don't need all the bright lights and all the hoopla that made you famous. All you need is a pair of boots. All you need is to meet me in the ring, not for a match...but a fight. You may no longer be Superman...but you're gonna get rocked by the kryptonite. Heroes also die....but Heroes can be reborn.."

I get up and make my way up the stairs as cameras fade to a commercial.

____________________________________________________________________________



Greatest Hits

Baron Tomson(x6)
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PostSubject: Re: Jason Gabriel [vs] Griffin Hawkins   

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Jason Gabriel [vs] Griffin Hawkins
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