Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson

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Posts : 143 Join date : 2013-01-16 Age : 35

Active Defense

Scene 1

“I just want to put this on record—I have the BEST fans in the world. Over the past couple of weeks I’ve gotten a lot of fan mail and emails, showing support of the incident that happened with my mother. She was admitted to the hospital last week.

“To be honest I really don’t want to jump into her condition right. Sorry, but I’m sure you all understand. But I will talk about how I’m feeling about the ‘suspect.’

…

“Pissed off doesn’t do my anger justice; but it is the closest thing that I can write down right now.

“You know, when you get into the business you only worry about a few things. You worry about money, you worry about traveling, you worry about your reputation, and you worry about your general health. We aren’t cops, we aren’t political figures—we are just wrestlers.

“We shouldn’t have to worry about our families being threatened or kidnapped.

…

“I suppose I should talk some wrestling shouldn’t I?

“Tim Patrick won the High Impact title last week, which means I will face him at the pay-per view. There’s no secret—Tim and I haven’t gotten along here in IWF. But, that’s to be expected I guess; proud men often clash with each other. Now, I’ve had quite a few tag-team matches with Tim—I’ve kicked his ass in all of them. So, I’m not really too concerned about him. BUT, then there is Gordon Fury. Apparently the fool gets a rematch. So, instead of the singles match that I EARNED, I’m going to be thrown into ANOTHER multi-person.

“The way the booking is here, you would think it was against company policy to have singles matches.

“Or, maybe IWF is just dicking around with me—stranger things have happened in this business.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know about my chances of winning this match. I’ll certainly be the best wrestler stepping into that ring. But there are just so many, ‘variables,’ that can pop up. And when it comes to me and IWF, ‘variables’ always seem to pop up.

“But hey, I should look at the bright side right? I mean, I did get to pick the match; that’s a plus.

…

“Speaking of picking the match, I guess I should probably explain stuff. No, I don’t work the indy scene; however, I do watch some indy wrestling in the little bit of spare time that I have. This is one match that I saw a couple of years ago. I remember that card—it sucked ass. The Lego Death Match was the main event. Now, perhaps it was the craziness of the match, or maybe it was the low quality of all the other matches—but the crowd was white-hot during the match. Hell, it was probably a combination of the two.

“Now, if some no-names in tiny indy fed can get a match over, then I KNOW that I can. Plus, people have been waiting to see wanting to Johnson vs. Patrick, and Johnson vs. Fury. Why not make the first encounter memorable?

…

“One last thing before I go.

“A couple of days ago I met up with a guy named Jared Fenton. Mr. Fenton owns a small independent movie company called Vital Studios. He contracted me with an interesting offer; one that I accepted. You know, I could go on this really long rant—but there’s no need. In short, Vital Studios wants me to make a documentary about my life as a wrestler. I’m going to shoot it myself; I went out to the store and bought a camera last night. Once I feel like I have enough footage, Vital and I are going to sit down together and edit.

“Some people may not know, but I did have a ‘Best-of’ DVD. It wasn’t published many four years ago or so.

“That DVD was strictly matches. This DVD is going to more personal.

“I’m also going to include a lot of my ‘friends’ in this documentary. There won’t be a lot of IWF people, but you will see some wrestlers that I worked with and trained with in the past. Actually, I’m going to do my best to have people with me…it would probably be terribly boring if I didn’t.

“But yeah, sooo---that’s about it.”

Scene 2 The Documentary: Chapter One
4/23/2013

There scene opens up to shaky shot of Flex’s face and upper body. After messing with the camera a bit, the picture becomes clear.

The camera is sitting on a table.

“I’m starting this documentary off in the most boring way—sitting here at the Starbucks. Honestly, I’m not even a big coffee drinker; I enjoy tea over coffee. But actually, I’m waiting on a friend to show up. When I was a trainer in Japan, I had the honor of working with a lot of talented students. Manabu Fujiwara was my favorite student to teach. He is a second-generation star; he was born in L.A., but he decided to train in Japan. He was a natural in class; he picked up even the most difficult concepts in a short time.

“Manabu kind of wrestles part time at the moment. Well, I shouldn’t say that. Manabu isn’t signed to a major company at the moment. He was about seven months ago. He worked for a UWA and won their world champion, twice. But the company folded, so he went back to his day job. Before wrestling Manabu worked as a high-paid paralegal; that’s his primary job now. But on weekends he works the California indys.”

Flex reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his cell phone. He checks the time—it’s 3:17 p.m.

“It’s not 3:25 yet, so Manabu still has time.

“Ha, it’s funny—ever since I was really young I’ve been time orientated. I HATE being late, or when other people are late. That’s kind of why I always show up to place early ya know. It’s better to be early than to be late.”

An Asian American walks up behind Flex. He taps Flex on the shoulder. Flex turns around and spots Manabu.

“Sup,” says Flex as he shakes Manabu’s hand.

“Hey Flex.” Manabu looks at the camera. “What’s with all this?”

“I’m recording a documentary.”

Manabu has a seat while Flex adjusts the camera so the both of them are in the shot.

“How’s the wifey doing?”

“She is good. How about yours?”

“She is good—she is over in Europe right now. One of the soccer teams signed her to a five game contract.”

“That’s what’s up.”

“Yeah.

“But hey, I wanted to pick your brain about something.”

“Shoot.”

“How do you feel about managers?”

“I mean, they are cool I guess. They have their place, just like any wrestler.

“Why what’s up?”

“Well, you know I’m in two indy feds. Now, the first fed wants me to try and find a manger. I went the upper officials and basically they told me I couldn’t talk.”

Flex shakes his head.

“Really?”

“Yeah—I couldn’t believe it.”

“Did they explain why?”

“They gave me some bullshit excuses.

“First, they said that they had received complaints from the fans—apparently the fans say I have a ‘heavy Asian accent.’”

Flex bursts out into laughter.

“Now Flex, you know me—I moved to the U.S. when I was six; I’ve lived here 20 years. There’s no way that I have an accent.”

“So who are they trying to pair you with?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Manabu laughs.

“I don’t even know why I asked you. You’ve been spoiled.”

Flex laughs.

“I’ve been spoiled huh?”

“Yes!”

Manabu looks directly into the camera.

“All you fans out there. I’m going to tell you the ‘normal’ process to becoming a wrestler. And then we will discuss this bum’s process over here.”

Flex laughs.

“Now—you start of by finding the right wrestling school. You take a beginning course, which usually lasts around six months. If you are super talented, you might start working after the beginning course; however, most people take an intermediate course at the very least. An intermediate course is another six to eight months. After that, one of two things normally happens. If you are lucky, like this guy over here, you will get singed by a big company. And even then, in most cases you will get signed to some type of developmental deal. However, like I said, that’s for the very fortunate. MOST wrestlers have to hit the indy scene. That means driving 74 hours to a small no name town to wrestle in front of four people for $20.

“And once you struggle on the indys for at least two years, you might get looked at by a bigger fed.”
Manabu laughs.

“Unless you are Flex Johnson—no Flex got hired by the largest company three days after graduating wrestling school.”

Flex holds up a finger.

“AND, they stuck me in developmental for the three months.

“The way yall tell it, I got pushed to the moon right after signing.”

“Hold on! In that fed, your first official match was in the main event right?”

“Well, yeah.”

Manabu points at the camera.

“See!”

“Hold up a minute.

“Mongo was talking this same shit. Yall trying to make it sound like I haven’t paid my dues.”

“Flex, you trained me; hell I’ve been to your house. I know your story—I know you have paid your dues. But, some people don’t feel that way.”

“So I’m the talk of the town huh?”

“Not exactly. But your name does come up when I traveling the indys.”

Flex sighs.

“Well, let me tell my side of the story. A lot of you IWF fans may not know much about my backstory.

“So, I didn’t get into the wrestling business until after I graduated college—I earned my Master’s before I started training. I trained at New York Alliance Wrestling. The school was medium sized, but the class size was pretty small; there were 15 people in the class.

“I guess you could say that I stood out a bit. A lot of the people in my class weren’t serious—they were just there for show. Out of the 15, only four really had a passion of the business.

“So, when Studio 21 Wrestling called NYAW to inquire about talent, my name came up.

“I went down to the Studio 21 headquarters and did a tryout match. It wasn’t the best match ever, not at all. But, the management said they saw something in me. I was signed to a developmental deal; they told me if I worked hard then I would succeed and eventually move up the ranks.

“Ha, I was excited to work for Studio 21, but never at the same time. They fed me that ‘if you work hard’ line, and I believed it whole heartedly. That is until I got a chance to speak with a few of the wrestlers. For some, developmental is a stepping-stone. But for others, it is an eternal purgatory. I met people had worked seven to eight years in Studio 21’s developmental program ya dig.

“I asked myself, ‘what do I have to do to not end up like them?’ My answer—was to train. I started training two to three times a day, six days a week. It was a pain, but it worked wonders. Management started looking at me; they started observing. Additionally my style was different back then. Back then I didn’t give a fuck about my body; I was a high flyer—I’d to anything for a crowd’s reaction. Studio 21 saw and this and took note.

“About three or four months after being in developmental, a big rumble style match was announced. I didn’t win, but I did pretty well. A week so later I got a call; they had planned to bring me up onto the main roster. So, I got called up, did that one main event match, and blew my knee out.”

Flex sighs.

“Studio 21 fired me; I spent the next eight months going through surgery and rehabbing. If I had to pick the roughest patch in my career, it would have to be then. It was agonizing to have to sit at home and watch my spot get snatched.

“As I began to heal, I started to reach out to some feds—no of them wanted to hire me. Hell, the indy feds didn’t even return my calls.”

Flex holds up a finger.

“Now, I’m not going to spill all of my business today; hell, I got a whole DVD to fill. But the notion that I haven’t paid my dues—that’s false. I was a struggling Negro with a pile of student loans when I hopped into wrestling. I put my head down, trained hard, and perfected my craft early. That’s how I got to my current position.”

Manabu shakes his head.

“Ha, sorry to get you all fired up.”

“It’s cool.”

“But speaking of training, we better hit it. If not all the scrubs are going to beat us to the gym.”

Flex laughs. He reaches and shuts off the camera.

Scene 3
4/27/2013

Flex had been sitting in Boston’s TD Garden for the past hour or so. He couldn’t explain why, but, something had drawn him to Boston a day or so early. Flex had only been to Boston a few times in his career; he neither hated nor loved the place—it was just another town.

But, this trip felt…different. The once joyous town had been tainted by tragedy and vengeance. Being from New York, Flex was very familiar with the two characteristics.

Back in his younger days, Flex used to always get to the arena a day or so early. We would then pick a seat, way up in the bleachers. He would sit back and watch the crew set up the ring as he cleared his thoughts for the upcoming match. As Flex became larger household name, his free time was diminished; he couldn’t continue his practice.

Today was out of the norm.

Today, Flex didn’t have any prior obligations. There were no autograph signings, no press conferences, no radio interviews.

There was just time.

Flex leaned back in the stadium seat. He closed his eyes, in an attempt to relax, and to focus.

“You know what’s really crazy?

“There was time when I thought I’d never be a champion in this business.

“Everyone has the same type of goals when they are training to be a wrestler. Everyone dreams of getting singed by a huge company and making a boat load of money. Everyone dreams of tour the world; they dream of having legions of fans. And, lastly, everyone dreams of being a champion.

“Ha, a championship means so much more than some metal and some leather. In most cases, if you are a champion, that means you are the best in the company. It also means that you a good representation of the company.”

Flex sighed.

“But, notice I said ‘in most cases.’

“There are times when outliers slip through the cracks, and get their unworthy hands on some gold.

“Tim Patrick—YOU are an outlier.

“Wrestlers are known for having fucked up pasts; hell, it’s almost a requirement. But your past Tim, woo, it’s more fucked up than the norm. We could delve into the abuse subject again, but why rehash old shit…

“…Especially when some new shit has just risen to the surface.”

Flex laughed a bit.

“You see everyone, our new High Impact Champion used to be a member of the Irish Republic Army.

“Now, that probably doesn’t alarm most people. But it should. Let me give you all a little background information. Now yes, at first, the IRA did some positive things for the country. Without the IRA, Ireland probably would not have become an independent state. And if the IRA’s story would have stopped there, everything would have been cool.

“But it didn’t stop there.

“For a period of time, Ireland was at peace. Everything was going great—but the IRA had different plans. When asked to put aside their guns for the good of the country, the IRA refused. And instead of allow the country to rest, the IRA brought bloodshed and violence to the Ireland’s doorstep. Battles and skirmishes broke out, but, there wasn’t a real enemy in sight for the IRA.

“So, who did the military end up killing?

“Innocent women and children of course. The IRA slaughtered the countryside and raped the women.”
Flex shrugged his shouldered.

“IWF, this is the group YOUR champion joined; this is what he did before coming to IWF. Is this really the person you want representing the company.

“Tim, I’m not the CIA. I don’t know exactly what you did while you were with the IRA. You could have killed hundreds of Irish citizens…OR you could have been the most upstanding solider ever. To be honest, it really makes no difference—you are guilty by association holmes.”

Flex laughed.

“Tim, did you ever sit back and wonder WHY you never really got a push? Not just in IWF, but in the business period. THIS is the reason Tim!”

Flex was silent for a moment.

“Fuck-ups beget fuck-ups Tim. Your parents weren’t shit, and then they gave birth to you. Your childhood was deplorable, which lead to you being a jack-up adult doing despicable things. And all those fuck-up lead to you having a horrible wrestling career.

“How about that?”

Flex sighed.

“Let me ask you something Tim.

“How much does that title really mean to you? You see I know people like you Tim. You probably honestly believe that winning that title means something don’t you? You have been a screw-up ALL your life; you’ve been a screw-up ALL of your career. You believe that title brings you a hint of redemption.

“But you are mistaken Tim.

“Your High Impact title reign means absolutely nothing.”

Flex went silent for a moment.

“I’ve have an absolute distain for you Tim; I’ve had distain for you ever since I had the conversation with you in the locker room. No, it’s not because you are bat-shit, a lot of wrestles are. I dislike you because you try to be something you are not!

“Over the past month or so it appears you have been getting close to Blyss and Storming Raven. You ‘act’ as if you are their friend, their comrade, their brother. But that’s not true is it Tim? Deep down, you are just a tortured, abused soul. And at the first opportunity, you are going to do the same thing to those two—abuse them!

“Oh, but that’s not it.

“You also ‘pretend’ to be a wrestler. But, you aren’t a wrestler Tim. You didn’t get into this business because you had a passion for it. You got into wrestling because you wanted to hurt people. Perhaps the rush of killing them wore off for you. Perhaps you just wanted to beat and scar people instead.”

Flex shook his head.

“Tim, the fact of the matter is, you don’t deserve to be a champion. The champion is supposed to be the best wrestler in the company. But, that’s not you Tim. In fact, you will NEVER be the best wrestler in IWF. You don’t have the skill, and you don’t have the dedication. You may have heart, but so do wolves in the wild.

“I’ve kicked your ass in every tag match that we have faced off in. You aren’t better than me Tim. I’m going to snatch the High Impact title from you.”

Flex then held up a finger.

“No, I’m not going to snatch the title from you. Actually, I’m going to walk up and take it from you. That’s what a real man does, that’s what TRUE champion does!”

Flex sighed. He opened eyes and looked down at the ring crew. They were struggling to put on one of the ring pads. He laughed to himself at first. But, he admired their effort.

“Effort and wrestling go hand in hand. A person can be naturally talented, but with hard work and effort, they will never progress.

“Mr. Fury, you know something about effort don’t you? Or, at least you should; it was your lack of effort that lost you the High Impact Title in the first place wasn’t it? Now, you probably argue and say that the match was close, that the match came down to the wire…

“…I’d argue that you didn’t put forth the required effort; you didn’t want to win the match bad enough.”

Flex shook his head.

“You know what bothers me about you Gordon?

“I don’t like your style!

“I don’t know you personally, but you give off this ‘goodie two-shoes’ vibe. Furthermore, you feel like you actually belong to hang with the top contenders. But the truth of the matter is, you don’t. Let me say this Gordon—one title reign does not a superstar make.

“Do you think you are somebody because you held the High Impact title for a few months?”

Flex laughed.

“Gordon, do you remember some fool named Khaos? He worked for IWF for about 30 minutes before getting kicked out. The man is a disgrace to the business. But, I’m bringing him up for a reason. You see Gordon, Khaos has held three or four titles in his life time. Do we proper the man up on a pedestal? Do we profess him to be some great legend in the business?

“Hell No!

“We bash that bash that man and man and call him an asshat!

“Why?

“You see Gordon, it’s not the title that makes the man. No, in fact it’s the man that makes the time. I’m a nine time champion, but you know what—I would have still become legend even if I hadn’t won a single one. When my name is brought up, titles aren’t the first thing on everyone’s mind. The first thing that comes to people’s mind is my work ethic, and how I pride myself on putting on the best match every night. Then people talk about my promos; I’ve delivered some of the best promos that this business has ever seen. And, people also like to look at what I’ve done outside the ring. Unlike a lot of older wrestlers, I’ve given back the business. I’ve been a trainer, I’ve given seminars; I’ve helped mold future stars.

“Oh, an after people remember all that stuff, THEN they bring up my title reigns.

“Gordon, stars shine even when they don’t have titles around their waists.”

Flex sighed.

“So I guess that leaves us with on nagging important and interrelated question.

“First—what do people think about when they hear the name ‘Gordon Fury?’ Do they think about the MAN; or, do they simply think about the High Impact title?”

Flex laughed.

“I’m willing to bet it’s the later.

“I mean come on, what does IWF REALLY known about you Gordon, minus you title reign?”

Flex pondered for a second.

“Besides the fact that you are kind of an ass, IWF doesn’t know shit about you. The fans, management, they don’t see the man behind the gold Gordon—they are blinded by the belt.

“Furthermore, what have you done for this business kid?

“…Yeah, I’m waiting on a response.

“But, the fact of the matter is, I’d be waiting forever. Ha, if anything, you have left a blemish on this fine business. Every time one of you fucking backyard wrestlers get ‘converted,’ the sport gets a little bit weaker.”

Flex shook his head.

“Face it Gordon, you aren’t a star kid. If it wasn’t for you holding the High Impact title, no one would know who you are; nobody would give a fuck about you. You are just another fool wandering around the business, TRYING to be great.”

Flex leaned back his seat a little more.

“Until you discover yourself; until you learn who you are—you will never be great. You might obtain gold, you might obtain fame—but you’ll never be fulfilled; you’ll never go down as one of the greats.”

Flex stood up.

“I guess that still leaves one last question…

“Why am I wrestling for this title then?

“To be honest, this match isn’t really even about the title. More or less, this match is about pride. I don’t want to win because there is a title on the line. No, I want to win because I know that I am the best man in the ring!”

Flex looked down at the ring crew—they were still struggling. Flex shrugged his shoulders. He started to walk down the steps to try and help.

Scene 4 The Documentary: Chapter Two
4/27/2013

The camera is set up so that we get a shot of Flex’s head and his upper body. Flex is sitting inside his house, resting on the couch. He has on a gray t-shirt with “NAVY” written across it.

“It’s a little later 3:30 a.m. right. Mya is upstairs sleep, like a sane person. Me on the other hand, I’m sitting here on the couch watching Youtube videos on my Macbook.”

Flex sighs.

“I’ll be honest; I came down here to clear me head. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. For the most part I kept tossing and turning. I did fall asleep for maybe 30 minutes, but that didn’t last too long.

“I don’t sleep very well. Honestly I don’t think I’ve ever been a real solid sleeper. When I was younger I used to have a lot of dreams and what not. As I grew older, those dreams stayed with me. Normally my dreams are pretty tame. But, recently, I’ve been having a great deal of nightmares.

“I really don’t want to describe what nightmares are right now.”

Flex is silent for a bit. He puts his hand on his head.

“Mya wants me to speak to someone about it. At first I said no. But, hey, I might as well give it a shot right? What’s the worst thing that can happen, I lose a little money?”

Flex shrugs.

“Crazy huh?

“I’ve only been film this documentary thing for a few hours, and it’s already time to deal some deep shit.

“Anyway, I guess I’ll cut it right here.”

Flex turns the camera off.

END

Tuesday, April 16, 2013
1:30 AM
Grand Irish Hotel
Dublin, Ireland
~ON CAMERA~

It is a few hours since Battle Grounds went off the air in Belfast. Having just won the High Impact Championship and being smuggled out of the country to prevent capture from the Northern Ireland Police, Tim Patrick has just arrived in a hotel room in Dublin, across the border in the Irish Republic. He is alone in his hotel room when the IWF.com camera-crew arrives for a brief interview. He is exhausted and stands holding his newly won title and begins to speak.

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson 5

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson 5

Tim Patrick:

I never thought it would be this way. What just happened was the single most insane thing in the history of Professional Wrestling. A former member of an illegal Irish freedom paramilitary walked into Belfast and won a major sports championship and started a riot on world-wide television. It was the biggest “Fuck You” to the bastards who run that country in years! It was the biggest “Fuck You” to No Limit Wrestling Federation I could have done. They told me that I was a loser, a horrible wrestler. They made me want to quit the business. While they're enjoying a “Renaissance” without any real interesting talent, myself and Gordon Fury just put on the most intense segment of any wrestling event in history. That right there is why I love so called “mid-card” Championships. The guys in the High Impact division are the ones who can go out there and fight for an hour straight. We're the guys that when people leave our events they talk about on the ride home, and the next day, and the day after that. “Yeah man, that World Title match was something but DID YOU FUCKING SEE THE HIGH IMPACT MATCH?!” So congratulations, Gordon. What just happened will go down in history. You might have to believe that the outcome of our match was a fluke in order for you to sleep at night but let me assure you that it was not. I have been doing this off and on for 14 years. I rarely get Championship opportunities. Tonight, I grabbed the world by the balls and there was nothing you could have done that would have stopped me from winning. This was no fluke. It was justice. It was right. It was what was supposed to happen.

I'm no longer Professional Wrestling's whipping boy. I'm a Champion. My day....is here.

14 Years. Thank You, IWF. Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson 8

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson 8

~~The Scene Fades~~

Monday, April 22, 2013
3:30 AM
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Stadium Hotel
~OFF CAMERA~

The scene opens in the early morning hours. Battle Grounds is later in the day. After drinking all night, Tim Patrick finally was able to get to bed a few hours ago. He has been on top of the world for the past week after winning the High Impact Championship, but every night he's been having nightmares. He has been suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder since childhood. Childhood sexual abuse combined with combat in Northern Ireland and being tortured in a British-run IRA Prisoner of War prison. The nightmare he's been having on this night is particularly bad. He has been screaming in his sleep for the past thirty minutes and is soaked in sweat. Suddenly, loud knocking is heard on his hotel room door. Tim wakes and sits up, holding back tears from the horrific dream he just had. He puts on the black shirt he was wearing earlier in the night and slowly walks across his room and opens the door.

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson JonMoxley

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson JonMoxley

Blyss Lockhart stands there with a sympathetic and worried look on her face as Tim opens the door. Immediately, Tim's expression changes to a smile. Blyss and Tim have developed a strong sibling-like relationship over the past several months, and he trusts her more than anybody in his life currently.

Blyss Lockhart:

You were having another nightmare, weren't you?

Tim Patrick:

How could you tell?

Blyss Lockhart:

Tim, I could hear you screaming and thrashing around in your bed from my room next door. What has been going on with you lately?

Tim Patrick:

Late April is a weird time for me. (Tim sighs) You wanna come in?

Blyss nods and follows Tim into his room and they both sit down on the couch next to his bed.

Blyss Lockhart:

A week ago you did something you always dreamed of doing. You've been on top of the world. Why are you having such crazy nightmares?

Tim Patrick:

My abuse as a child started in the month of April and the two week long interrogation I went through in a secret British prison started in late April. I get this way each year. Something clicks in my brain late at night and I have these nightmares remembering all of it. Marathon dreams, one after another. (Clearly fighting back tears at this point) I hate how I don't allow myself to get over this bullshit.

Blyss Lockhart:

Tim, it's all over. None of those people can hurt you anymore. (Blyss reaches over and grabs Tim by the hand) It's all over.

Tim Patrick:

I know. I can't figure out how to stop these dreams though.

Blyss Lockhart:

You need to stop masking your pain with alcohol. You need to see a therapist about this.

Tim Patrick:

I've seen therapists. All they do is tell me what I want to hear and nothing changes.

Blyss Lockhart:

Then it's up to you to change it. This isn't the first night I've heard you have loud nightmares where you scream and the entire hotel can hear it. These memories will kill you if you don't just accept that it's over. You're a man and whatever happened to you as a kid can no longer hurt you and you're out of Belfast and they can't arrest and imprison you there now. Damn, Tim. You're the High Impact Champion. Enjoy your life! Most people would be dead if they went through what you went through. You're alive and loved. Accept that.

Tim forces himself to smile, although it's sort of half-hearted. He's embarrassed by the situation and totally ashamed of himself.

Tim Patrick:

I'm sorry, Blyss. I have lose a lot of friends because of all of this. I don't want to lose you because of my...issues.

Blyss Lockhart:

Relax. You won't. Listen, lay down in bed. You need to sleep. I have a silly idea.

Tim laughs to himself, walks over and lays in his hotel bed.

Blyss Lockhart:

Now shut your eyes and listen.

Tim sighs and closes his eyes.

She begins to sing

Blyss Lockhart:

“Dear Mr. Fantasy
Play us a tune
Something to make us all happy
Do anything, take us out of this gloom
Sing a song, play guitar
Make it snappy

You are the one who can make us all laugh
But doing that, you break down in tears
Please don't be sad if it was the straight life you had
We wouldn't have known you all these years”

As Blyss finishes the final verse of that song, Tim is clearly fast asleep. She smiles, shuts off the lights and leaves the room. There are no more nightmares on this night, just peaceful slumber.

~~The scene fades~~

Saturday, April 27, 2013
Boston, Mass
Backstage at TD Garden
4:00 PM
~~ON CAMERA INTERVIEW/SHOOT~~

Homecoming is tomorrow night. IWF.com has assembled a camera-crew backstage and has been interviewing IWF talent all afternoon backstage at the arena. Immediately after his press conference with local Boston media has finished, Tim Patrick sits down with David Lester for an interview.

David Lester:

Tim, how does it feel to finally be a champion in wrestling again?

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson Dean-ambrose

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson Dean-ambrose

Tim Patrick:

Honestly, Dave...the actual possession of the belt doesn't mean all that much to me. What matters to me is how I won it. That match in Belfast was all I ever really wanted in this business. If you asked me a year ago what my fantasy match situation would be, it would be winning a championship in Belfast in front of that crowd. Half of the building wanted to kill me on the spot, the other half looked at me like I was their hero. You have to understand, Irish nationalists in Northern Ireland haven't had a lot to celebrate in the past several years. The way things are over there, if Britain ever leaves it'll be a fucking miracle. The Irish nationalists who once fought British rule in politics are now working with the Brits, and the old Provisional IRA have disarmed. What was all the fighting and killing and dying for? I can't answer that. But I know that my victory a couple of weeks ago has energized the nationalist community. It was huge to them. If it inspired people over there that they too can do great things, or spread the word about the cause of Irish freedom across the globe then that's all I wanted. It's all I can do anymore for them. I'm done with the IRA. Their fight, with armed struggled at least, is over. The only people over there still fighting in the streets have no political support. It's a lost cause at this point.

David Lester:

I saw you mentioned No Limit Wrestling Federation in your statement the night you won. Why?

Tim Patrick:

The ownership there thought I was nothing. They thought I was less than nothing. My title win was a “fuck you” to both the British government and their loyalist thug supporters in Ireland and NLWF. Yeah, they're back. But so what? Their shows are unwatchable. Same old shit. Insurgency Wrestling Federation is where it's at, and I'm not just saying that because I work here. I had the opportunity this past winter to leave and work somewhere else. I stayed here because I believe in this place. I'm glad I did.

David Lester:

What are your feelings of Gordon Fury?

Tim Patrick:

Gordon is a great wrestler. And I respect his in-ring ability. I think he acts like a child sometimes backstage. His overall bitchiness that he has shown Blyss in recent weeks bugs me. I hear they're training again, which is good. I don't know, he really rubbed me the wrong way with that bullshit. Friends don't force friends to choose between people. I have been friends with her for a little while now and we're very close. I never would have even suggested she stay away from somebody just because they're my opponent in the ring. But I guess they're putting that behind them. Good. We're all adults here and this isn't high school. Hopefully his loss to me in Belfast humbled him.

David Lester:

What is your relationship with Blyss?

Tim Patrick:

Brother/sister like. Nothing else. She's really great. She's an incredible wrestler and a better friend. I would be lost without her, truthfully. She's going up against Storming Raven tomorrow. They're both friends of mine and I know they'll have a great match. Enough with the softball questions, David. Hit me with something hard.

David Lester:

Haha, alright. Your match is Lego Deathmatch with Gordon and Flex tomorrow night. We've heard some rumblings that you aren't thrilled about this. Why?

Tim Patrick:

David, the last match I had ended up being the craziest thing to ever happen in IWF. Suddenly, I'm forced to have some Triple Threat Lego Clusterfuck. Who allowed this nonsense? We're having a major event in Boston and the three people who have the ability to steal the show are having a match that's basically what happens when 3 little kids get together, build a Lego tower, and a fight breaks out. I'm still unclear of the rules. Does the match end when Gordon skins his knee? Does Flex have to take a nap? Do we all get milk and cookies when it's over? Do our mothers drink in the other room? What happens if I bring out Mega-blocks? Do I get disqualified? So many ridiculous unanswered questions. I mean, I know the true nature of what we do is to entertain the fans. And I'm sure this will be entertaining and I know that the three of us are the only people on the roster that can make this silliness work. So whatever. I'm just puzzled. Next time IWF ownership wants to put me in some silly fun time happy hour match, just book me in a tickle fight with one of the divas. At least I'll look forward to that.

David Lester:

What are your thoughts on Flex Johnson?

Tim Patrick:

Incredible athlete, silly name. Was “Bendy Penis” not an acceptable ring name or something? Seriously though. Flex has beaten me here before. He's not somebody to take lightly. He has come from nothing and has ended up as one of the most exciting wrestlers on Earth. I have a lot of respect for him. But he has a lot to overcome. Gordon and I are at the top of our game right now, and he's coming off an embarrassing performance at the last Pay Per View where his offense included touching a ladder one time and that's it. I'm not sure what happened there but he looked like a fool and he better make sure he snaps out of his brain fart and makes an impact at Homecoming.

~~The Scene Fades~~

Posts : 215 Join date : 2012-10-05 Age : 32

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson FuryCD

“The Truth Comes Out”

The scene opens up in a familiar gym, the one where Gordon Fury and Blyss Lockhart usually train. Gordon is at the punching bag in his Muay Thai gear, throwing combos at the bag, harder than usual.

I have been training a shit ton more since I left Ireland. I tell myself that it is because that match's brutality made me want to train harder, but the true reason is as clear as day. The reason that the High Impact championship isn't sitting next to my bag in my locker right now.

He slams his knee into the bag again, as if his own thoughts triggered a reaction.

I hear the door open behind me, and Blyss walks in, dressed in her Muay Thai gear. She walks straight to her locker without even looking at me. I turn to look at her just as she puts her Phoenix Championship belt in the locker, and she looks at me just as I look away, but I think she saw me looking regardless. I turn back to the bag and power into it with a hard side kick.

Gordon Fury: I'm surprised you are here Blyss.

I can hear her walk up behind me as a throw a straight right into the bag. She walks behind the bag and braces it for me, as if she is just going through the motions.

Blyss Lockhart: I don't shirk commitments Gordon. I did expect you to know that, but it seems like I can never do anything right huh?

Gordon Fury: Back off Blyss. Besides, it didn't sound like you wanted to speak to me anyway. I called you back after you left that message, and you hung up on me.

Blyss Lockhart: So you got that one, but didn't get the others? That's weird.

Obvious sarcasm is obvious.

Gordon Fury: Blyss, do NOT start me.

At that she steps out from behind the bag and pushes me, before closing the distance.

Blyss Lockhart: Don't start you Gordon? I didn't even fucking know you were stopped! I don't have a clue what is going on with you lately! I have tried to be there for you, reached out to talk to you, and all you have done is blow me off. Then you post those things on twitter? What is wrong with you?!

I can't hold it in anymore, I step right up to her face, which forces her to take a step back.

Gordon Fury: What is wrong with ME?! Are you fucking KIDDING ME!? What the fuck is wrong with YOU?! You were the only person I trusted to truly have my back! We are the only reason that the other left with a title at Ascension, and I thought I truly had found someone I could rely on. And then I lose my title, so close to my goal, and you go out to celebrate with Tim?! Celebrate the destruction of months of hard work? Matches upon matches on being the greatest champion this fed has ever seen, gone!? You celebrated the fact that the very man who helped you inside and outside that ring to break your losses and become a champion, lost the thing that meant the most to him! What did you expect me to say? What could I say to you over the fucking phone?

Blyss once again takes a strong stance and stands her ground.

Blyss Lockhart: Are you fucking serious? Tim is my friend too, Gordon. I'm not going to turn my back on him just because you lost your title belt! And we just happened to know we're in Rio at the same time so yeah! But you? Who the hell knows?!

I force back Blyss until I have her backed up and pinned to the punching bag.

Gordon Fury: You were the ONLY ONE who knew how much being a champion meant to me! You KNEW that being a champion was more important to me than anything else! You were the only one who knew just how much I was willing to sacrifice to be the greatest champion that IWF has ever had! YOU! NOONE ELSE! You knew how I would take this, and all I get is a bunch of fucking phone calls?! While you go and fucking CELEBRATE WITH TIM PATRICK!

I lean in to her, almost face to face, my rage almost uncontrollable. I see tears welling in her eyes, as she can do nothing but stare at me, speechless.

Gordon Fury: You were the ONLY person I counted on to be there for me, to understand! And instead you abandon me when I needed you most! What was I supposed to do? What am I-

Before I can react, Blyss grabs me by the back of my head, tears streaming down her face.. and kisses me.

What the fuck?!

Trust me, I am confused as you are. Having no control of my emotions, I give in to her, and we kiss for what seems like an eternity, before I slowly pull away from her. She looks at me with wide eyes, like she only just realised what she had done. I can do nothing but just look at her, with a gobsmacked look on my face.

Blyss Lockhart: Gordon... I'm... I don't...

She doesn't finish her sentence as runs towards the door, quickly grabbing her bag and title, before ramming the door open and running through it. I snap back to reality just in time to see her leave.

Gordon Fury: Blyss wait!

I'm obviously too late as I just stand in the gym, alone and confused, wondering what the fuck just happened.

I bet you didn't expect this when you woke up this morning huh?

No, I think its pretty safe to say I didn't. I lean against the gym bag and close my eyes, trying to catch my breath. I suppose at least that is my workout done for the day.

The camera zooms out on Gordon before fading to black.

“Refinding The Fury”

The scene opens up with Gordon Fury and Chris Cryptic in their casual clothes, sitting on a lounge chair in front a old shitty shitty TV, in yet another old shitty motel room. What the fuck Gordon?

What?

You were High Impact champion for over one hundred days, surely you can afford a better motel room than this!?

Yeh but it just wouldn't be the same to stay in a proper, nice motel. It's the little things, you know?

I know your insane for choosing to stay in places like this, but whatever.

Chris has been bitching at me all week to come over and watch my match in Ireland, since he missed the live recording on TV. I had been reluctant to show him, you know, because I LOST, but he finally forced my hand. The riot at the end of the show is currently on the screen as the show ends, pausing on Tim Patrick holding the High Impact title. Chris just sits there in stunned silence for a few seconds.

Chris Cryptic: Wow...

Gordon Fury: Yep, pretty much.

Chris Cryptic: That was insane.

Gordon Fury: Indeed.

Chris Cryptic: Gordo?

Gordon Fury: Yeh?

Chris Cryptic: Why the fuck did you sing God Save the Queen? You don't believe in god and you hate England?

Gordon Fury: True, but the Irish hate them more.

Chris Cryptic: You are such an arsehole.

Gordon Fury: Why thank ya sir.

I look back to the TV and Tim is staring me right in the face, the happiest I have ever seen him, holding my title. Chris must have noticed, because he immediately speaks up.

Chris Cryptic: You know you fought one hell of a match Gordo. You left everything you had out there.

Gordon Fury: You are right Chris, I did. And yet it still wasn't enough.

Chris Cryptic: Gordo you can't think like that.

Gordon Fury: I know man, but I did at first. I was a complete wreck.

Chris Cryptic: Yeh but that is not the only reason for your breakdown was it?

Gordon Fury: What do you mean?

Chris Cryptic: Come on Gordo do you think I am blind? You know exactly what I mean.

Gordon Fury: Blyss has nothing to do with it.

Chris Cryptic: The very fact you knew who I was talking about says otherwise.

He got you good Gordo.

Shut the fuck up.

Gordon Fury: I was upset about losing my title. That's it.

Chris stands up at faces me, a look of frustration on his face.

Chris Cryptic: Bullshit! Don't fucking lie to me! You can keep your little secret inside so it can eat you up like a coward if you want, don't you dare sit there and lie to my face!

I stand up to him face to face.

Gordon Fury: I am many things Chris, but I am NOT a coward.

Chris Cryptic: Then don't fucking act like one.

Are you two gonna destroy ANOTHER hotel room.

Gordon Fury: Fine, Blyss is part of the reason. Happy?

Chris Cryptic: It's a start.

Chris sits down on the couch and I sit next to him again.

You are about to have a D&M right now aren't you.

I think so.

That's pretty gay.

I know, but I really don't want to pay damages for another motel room, so this is the only option.

Gordon Fury: Well since the week Tim attacked me...

Chris Cryptic: Fucking coward.

Gordon Fury: Indeed. Well since then, things have been pretty volatile between Blyss and me. Was the reason for it my fault? More or less, but I feel like I was justified. Anyway, she asks to start training again, so we meet at the gym. And of course, when she arrived, she couldn't leave well enough alone, and I blew up at her. Badly.

A look of concern crosses Chris's face.

Chris Cryptic: Gordo... you didn't...

Gordon Fury: What? Oh no I didn't go all Chris Brown on her arse or anything, but it was pretty full on. Her reaction however, was even more full on.

Chris Cryptic: She attacked you?

Gordon Fury: No, at least that would have been less confusing. She kissed me.

Chris Cryptic: She what?

Gordon Fury: Yeh, trust me, I know.

Chris sits there for a few seconds, trying to process all the information. Its takes a bit, because Chris is stupid.

You are lucky he can't hear you.

Indeed.

Chris Cryptic: So, have you talked to her about it?

Gordon Fury: What do you think?

Chris Cryptic: Of course you haven't, you stubborn prick. You know Gordo, this could actually be a blessing.

Gordon Fury: Could it now?

I hate it when Chris gets ideas.

Chris Cryptic: Well, from what she did, it's obvious Blyss doesn't hate you right?

Gordon Fury: Right...

Chris Cryptic: Well then you don't really have anything weighing you down before your rematch at the Pay per view right?

...That actually makes sense. I am a little scared.

Gordon Fury: You know what Chris, that actually makes sense.

Chris Cryptic: Of course it does, I always give good advice.

Gordon Fury: Uh huh. At the very least, whatever is going on with me and Blyss can wait till after Homecoming. Time to focus on what matters right now, and that is winning back my High Impact Championship.

Chris leans over and pats me on the shoulder.

Chris Cryptic: Good to hear buddy. You know Gordo, you are lucky you backed down, I would hate to have to beat you up again.

Gordon Fury: What ever you reckon! I beat the shit out of you last time, and I could easily do it again.

Chris Cryptic: Only cause you cheated, there would have been no alarm clock to save your arse this time.

We both laugh as he punches me in the arm. This is exactly what I needed. Clearing the air, clearing my head, at least for a little while. I am ready to take my title back. It's time to get to work.

The camera fades to black.

“Breaking the Barriers”

The scene opens up with Gordon Fury sitting once again in his shitty hotel room sitting at a shitty desk, on a shitty chair, staring at the screen of his laptop. Wait a minute, Gordo, didn't you say it was time to get to work?

So?

So, I assume you meant training for your match. How is this work?

Time to get to work rejoining humanity. I bought a new phone, and have checked my facebook and twitter accounts for the first time in a few weeks. Besides, I am always training, even I deserve a break.

Uh huh.

Twitter is an interesting beast. It can sometimes be a useful source of information, and sometimes a huge mess of people talking about shit noone cares about. Then again, its the internet, what can you expect? I'm busy reading away when my feed updates, and a comment made by Blyss shoots to the top. I go to click on reply, but I reconsider and close the browser instead. Fuck, what is wrong with me?

Kurt Lowe: Still having problems Gordo?

I turn around and Kurt is sitting on the bed behind me, looking over my shoulder at the screen.

Gordon Fury: Don't you start on me. I have already talked this shit out with Chris. I am focused and good to go.

Kurt Lowe: That may be the case, but what is going to happen after Homecoming?

Gordon Fury: That is not my concern. My focus is on here and now.

Kurt Lowe: You should be concerned. No matter how much you want it to, what happened between you and Blyss won't just go away.

Gordon Fury: Who said I want it to go away?

Kurt Lowe: Dude. For the hundredth fucking time, I am you. Remember?

Gordon Fury: Fuck, of course you are.

Kurt Lowe: You can't just ignore her forever, you already tried that, and it didn't work. So what are you going to do?

Gordon Fury: I...I honestly don't know. The last time I was kissed like that by someone, it ended up with them trying to kill me.

Kurt Lowe: Blyss is not like Tracey, and you know it.

Gordon Fury: Do I? Blyss is an enigma, its part of the reason I like her, but it also means I don't have a clue what she is thinking. She just got over a breakup herself, how do I know I'm not just a rebound guy? How do I know she isn't just after something?

Kurt Lowe: The fact that this bothers you shows that you care for her. And do you really think there is some ulterior motive?

Gordon Fury: I don't fucking know Kurt, that's the problem. And you can analyse it all you want, but it doesn't change the facts. It could very well be something as simple as a heat of the moment thing, it could have meant nothing to her.

Kurt Lowe: Did it mean something to you? Do you have feelings for her?

Gordon Fury: Why are you even asking? You already know the answer.

Kurt Lowe: I do, but you need to admit it to yourself.

Gordon Fury: I...I can't. There are too many unknowns. The last time I took my guard down I paid for it. She may not be Tracey, but just like Tracey, she is unpredictable. And that isn't a good thing. The only thing I can do is deal with what I can control, focus on what I KNOW I have to do, and that is winning back my High Impact title at Homecoming. Hopefully, once that is done and dusted she will make the first move, if not...

Kurt Lowe: Hmm?

Gordon Fury: Then I suppose I wing it from there.

Kurt just shakes his head at me. He knows as well as I do (because he is me) that I can be a stubborn prick sometimes...

Being a bit generous there Gordo.

...fine, most of the time.

Kurt Lowe: You are terrible you know that? You realise this is more than likely going to end badly right?

Gordon Fury: What else is new? It wouldn't be my life if it didn't.

Kurt Lowe: That's a fair point.

Gordon Fury: Now if you excuse me...

I turn back to my laptop, before opening the web browser.

Gordon Fury: Time to facebook stalk some hot friends from school

Good to see that you focus on the important things Gordo, you are a real role model.

Word.

Kurt just shakes his head again as the camera fades to black.

Tim Patrick [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson FuryShoot

“Mark of a Champion”

The following scene uses actors that look like current IWF stars, but aren't. Except, you know, me.

This shit again Gordo?

Hey I had to kiss a LOT of arse this week to get the budget I needed, this was a small time task.

Do I even want to know?

No. No you don't.

The scene opens up in what looks like the ancient Roman Colosseum. The camera is high above the arena, all the people inside no bigger than ants, the sound of clashing Steel can be heard through the air, piercing the uninterrupted roar of the crowd. The camera zooms into the action in the arena, where two gladiators are doing battle, one of which is obviously Gordon Fury, and the other looks remarkably like Tim Patrick. Both men are dressed like classic gladiators, and by that I mean they are wearing a cock sack and nothing much else.

I probably would have called them hessian jocks, but each to their own.

Both men are wielding short swords and shields, matching each other practically blow for blow. Tim goes for a spinning back strike to the legs, but Gordon moves his right arm which is holding the shield to block it. With his shield low however, Gordon is out of position and Tim shield bashes him in the face, forcing Gordon to take a step back, throwing his arms out beside him, leaving himself wide open. Tim lunges in for the killing stab, but Gordon suddenly comes to life, bashing Tim's sword away, and putting all of his effort into a sword slash to Tim's throat. Tim's eyes go wide as he pushes his neck back as far as he can, the tip of the sword just cutting into his neck, leaving a clear gash. This strike put s Gordon off balance, and Tim swings around for a spinning back heel trip, sending Gordon down hard into the sand. Tim points his sword to Gordon's throat, ending the fight. The crowd is going absolutely ballistic as a man in a glorious white robe appears on a balcony high above the gladiators, the crowd immediately becoming silent when he holds up his hands.

Announcer: What a magnificent fight! After an absolutely dominating run as arena champion of the midday games, Gordus Furion has finally been defeated at the hands of Timeon Patrika! And now, to pass judgment on the former champion, The Emperor himself, Coriah Caseyus!

The crowd roar as a man in a similar robe rise and walks to the front of the balcony, while the other man sits down. This robe however is trimmed in gold, and the man has a bunch of stupid looking leaves stuck to his head. He lifts his hands up and the crowd goes silent.

Coriah Caseyus: People of the Insurgency, behold your new champion!

The people go nuts as Timeon salutes the people and the emperor, while Gordon stares up at him in defiance.

Coriah Caseyus: And now for the fate of the former champion...

Coriah raises his right fist into the air, with his thumb pointed to the side, and Timeon grips his sword even tighter in preparation. Coriah surveys the arena as all of the crowd are on their feet, a single chant being heard.

“Let him live! Let him live! Let him live”

Coriah doesn't look pleased at this, and with a look of almost pain on his face, he turns the thumb up, cuing Tim to take a step away from Gordus, and the fans roar again. A gate at the side of the arena opens, and and guards come out and escort Gordus and Timeon back to their holding cells. Timeon is given wine and women for his victory, while Gordus just sits alone in his cell.

?: Oh How the mighty have fallen.

Gordus looks up and sees Coriah Caseyus himself smirking at Gordus from outside the cell.

Coriah Caseyus: You probably forget what true defeat feels like after being champion for so long don't you? The self pity and disappointment that clouds your mind? Get used to it slave. Your time in the sun is over. You may have your life, but it is now the life of a defeated, hopeless shell of a man you once were.

Gordus doesn't look up, or even move.

Gordus Furion: That is where you are wrong Coriah.

Gordus then raises his head and slowly rises to his feet.

Gordus Furion: Just because I don't hold the title of champion does not mean I am no longer a champion. I will relentlessly fight from the bottom where you have put me, and mark my words Emperor, the time will come where I once again will stand on the sand as Arena champion. Timeon may have won the battle, but he hasn't won the war...

Gordus walks up to the cell wall, and suddenly the background of the cell fades out, and the scene fades back in inside a well lit library. Gordon, who is now in his everyday casual gear, closes the book he has in front of him.

Gordon Fury: ...And he won't. You see, unlike the gladiators who go straight back to the bottom when they lose, I have one more chance to reclaim what is mine, and I am NOT going to waste it. What few people understand is that while what you do when you are champion is important, the true measure of a champion comes after defeat. Because the fact is, the greater champion you are, the worse the defeat is, the more you have to prove that you are still a champion, whether you hold the belt or not. That is what you fail to understand Tim.

Don't get me wrong, the night you won the High Impact championship, you deserved to win it. I have new found respect for your in ring skill Tim, and noone can ever take that night away from you. But the fact of it all Tim, is that you don't deserve that belt. You are no champion.

Gordon stands up and walks around the table to the front of it.

Gordon Fury: You proved that before you even won it. You said it yourself: “I don't even care about what happens tomorrow or next week or next month or next year.” Despite everything else you have said and done Tim, that comment is by far the worst. A true champion does NOT openly say once they win a belt they don't give a fuck what happens later! Winning the belt is the smallest step in becoming a champion Tim, after 2 years of fighting to become one, I would have thought you had known that by now. That comment from you Tim proves that you don't deserve to be High Impact champion. I swore to myself that the person I finally was defeated by to end my reign would be someone that deserved to be champion. I thought that could have been you. I was wrong. The fact you thought I would fade into obscurity after my loss shows how much you have no idea what being a champion is about Tim. Just because you spent most of your career as the man that no one talked about, that does not mean I am going to share the same fate. You see Tim, you were incorrect again when you said you knew how much I loved that belt. Because the belt, at the end of the day, is nothing but a symbol. What I love, is being a champion. Being the guy that everyone is gunning for, having targets painted on your back. Having to fight like its my last fight EVERY fight so that I can still be a champion. Holding that belt high showing everyone that I can carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and still be a champion. Do you have the drive and dedication to do that Tim? From what I have seen, the answer is no.

Gordon continues walking along the front of the desk to a slightly different part of a library, where a line of computers are seen set up along the back wall of the room. Gordon glances at them before turning back to the camera.

Gordon Fury: It is also apparent that you don't have the focus to be a champion either. I mean I'm no gym junkie, but training is important, and mentally I make sure I am always ready. You however, seem more concerned with what is going on between me and Blyss. I mean do you think those petty jabs over twitter accomplish anything Tim? Do you think it is going to achieve a thing? Because the only thing it achieves in doing, in showing me that you are a child who can't keep his nose out of other peoples business. How about you spend less time worrying about Blyss, and more time getting ready to defend the title huh?

Despite all these things Tim, I do understand your frustration. I mean I was here for a couple of months before I got my title shot, but it took you two years. But have you ever wondered why Tim? Have you ever stopped to think why for two years management didn't give you a shot? Because maybe, just maybe, you didn't deserve one? I mean if you are going to winge and bitch at someone, if you are going to attack someone because it took you so long, then punch yourself in the nuts Tim. It took you 2 years to get this shot Tim, and it is now your chance to show everyone that you won't fuck it up. But I have a strong feeling you will Tim, and then we will see how you handle the failure.

Over the last few weeks Tim, you have had quite a lot to say about me. I mean, if you talked about me any more I might just have to ask you out on a date.

GAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Indeed.

Gordon Fury: Because you have one win over me you assume you have the advantage, whereas I beg to differ. On that night in Ireland, you had more on the line than I did. You had a personal stake in the match, and on that one night, when all of the circumstances were in your favor, you wanted it slightly more than I did, and you won. Flex in a way was right. I wanted to retain, but Tim simply wanted it that little bit more. It's as simple as that. But Homecoming is different. For me, THIS is personal, defeat has driven me harder than victory in the past, and this is no exception. Tim, the only advantage you had is gone, and the tables have turned on you. I hope you enjoyed your several days as champion Tim, because Sunday is going to be your last.

Gordon walks further through the library into another section. There is a sign above his head that reads “Black History”. Gordon stops and turns back to the camera.

Gordon Fury: Flex Johnson. For a man that barely knows me you sure had ALOT to say. Full of wise advice and all that shit ay? Flex I had somewhat respect for you, and was going to be somewhat light on my words, but then you went and questioned my drive . MY drive! THE hardest working member of this whole fucking roster and one of the greatest champions this fed has ever had!

You done goofed Flex.

Gordon Fury: You know what is funny Flex? You said that I lost my title because I didn't put enough effort in, and as I said before, it is somewhat true. You want to talk about effort? How about we talk about Ascension Flexy? You know the event where you had the PERFECT chance to show the world you still had it and choked like a bitch? The event where your greatest offense was touching a fucking ladder? And you have the fucking NERVE to question my drive? The thing about you veterans Flex, is that you all assume that because you have done this for a long time that you automatically deserve respect and recognition. How about you earn it through your actions. Speaking of actions, a fucking LEGO DEATH MATCH! Are you butt-fucking KIDDING ME! Tim and I had one of the most brutal matches IWF has ever seen, and you back it up with THAT?! How do you possibly hope to earn respect with that shit? I mean you have skill in that ring, no doubt about it, but not enough to warrant the accolades you put on yourself. I mean lets reverse roles here Flex, without the long list of titles that you hold from a dead federation that mean nothing anymore, what do the people of IWF see? What have you done here to deserve respect? The answer is fucking NOTHING Flex. A veteran the caliber of you has done nothing to impress, and that makes you angry.

That is why you try to belittle my title reign. Because in IWF, I am higher on the totem pole than you are. When people compare the MEN that are Gordon Fury and Flex Johnson in IWF, people will ALWAYS rank me higher. That's not boating Flex, that's fact. And that makes you wild that an upstart newbie like me is considered higher than you.

Gordon walks out of the area and walks into a final room, where the shelves and books look in almost pristine condition. Above Gordon head is a sign in gold and silver that reads “Champions of Their Genre.”

Gordon Fury: In answer to your question Flex, when people here the name Gordon Fury they think about the man who has NEVER and will NEVER let anything stand in his way to achieve what he wanted. I wanted Chuck Matthews injured and Bad Company dead, it happened. I wanted the Empire destroyed despite all the firepower they had, and that happened too. It may take a couple of tries Flex, but I don't believe in defeat. I believe in being given another chance to try again. THAT is what people think of when they here Gordon Fury. One of the greatest champions in IWF history is just Icing on the cake. When people here the name Flex Johnson, they think of a jealous bitter old man who knows he is past his prime and is just trying to convince others that he is better than them and pray they don't try and make him prove it.

Take notice boys, I am not fucking around. The High Impact championship is not a toy, being High Impact champion is not a joke. I refuse to let either of you drag the title back through the mud after I spent 113 days bringing it back to where it belonged. After Homecoming comes and goes, the month will end just as it began: with me holding the High Impact Championship above my head, with my two defeated opponents under my feet. It is time for both of you to face the fury...

...Mates.

Gordon walks out of shot as the scene fades to black.

» Gordon Fury [vs.] Flex Johnson
» Hollywood's Fucking Finest [vs.] ASS & Johnson [vs.] Neart le Cheile Axle Vengeance & Ace Static [vs.] Flex Johnson & Desmond Young [vs.] Tim Patrick & Sean Libby
» Tim Patrick [vs.] Flex Johnson
» Gordon Fury [vs] Tim Patrick
» Tim Patrick [vs.] Sean Libby [vs.] Gordon Fury [vs.] Parker Wayde [vs.] Steel Angel [vs.] Alex Dillinger [vs.] Alexander Remington