Chris Cryptic [vs.] Noah Marshall

500 words minimum - 5000 words maximum
RP HERE

The decision I just recently made was a tough one that I had to think about for a long time.  Ever since Kurt, and then Gordon, became pro wrestlers, the thought was always in the back of my head to join them, to go pro.  However I knew that life wasn't for me.  I've got no time for all of that bitchy backstage pro wrestling politics bullshit, that is why I created In Your House Wrestling Alliance in the first place.  It was just somewhere that people could come and wrestle, and you get your shots and victories based on skill alone.  It was raw, it was unedited, it was REAL.  Not only was I the owner and promoter, I was also a member of the roster, so I was with these guys and girls through everything.  So when I finally decided to hand ownership of IYHWA over, and leave the roster to live in America with my then-girlfriend, I was officially out of the wrestling game.  That said, I couldn't get out of the world as easily as I thought.  On several occasions I helped train and prepare close friend, and fellow IYHWA wrestler, Gordon Fury, when he got his contract with IWF.  

I have been mostly inactive in the wrestling world since then, but suddenly an opportunity presented itself that made me truly reconsider my “retirement”.  The IWF Underground.  A show under the IWF banner, but kept completely separate from the main card bullshit.  A place where people can come and hone their craft, where what you earn depends on what you do in the ring, not the strings you pull outside of it.  When I finally decided to sign a contract, I knew a few things had to change.  I was a power fighter, but I always had issues catching the smaller, faster guys.  So because of that, I slimmed down a bit, worked a lot on my cardio, stamina, and speed, trying to fill in my weaknesses while still capitalising on my strengths.  A spur of the moment shaved head later, and I was physically ready.  Insurgency Wrestling Federation was about to get Cryptic.


The scene opens up with me in my home in Miami.  I'm in a white singlet and board shorts, and I am in my kitchen, preparing a smoothie.  My house isn't exactly posh, but I wouldn't call it cheap either.  The polished wooden floorboards, and the almost flawless condition of my brick house, inside and out, makes it seem a lot more upscale than it actually is. I take care of my shit.  Over the wizz of the blender I hear my front door slam open followed by footsteps inside.  A brief moment of panic sets in before a familiar voice is heard.

?:Knock knock mother fucker.

I smirk and shake my head as I instantly recognise the voice.  I stop the blender and pour my smoothie into a glass.  I roll my eyes.

Chris Cryptic: Yeh, come on in Gordo, no worries.

I sense someone over my right shoulder, and I turn to face the person, who turns out to be Gordon Fury leaning against the kitchen door frame.  What a shock.

Gordon Fury: Don't worry buddy, I did.  Just saving you time, cause I'm a good friend.

Chris Cryptic: Yeh right.

Gordo walks over to me as we engage in a bro hug.  Gordo drives me fucking insane sometimes, but he is a good mate.  We let go as I pat him on the shoulder.

Chris Cryptic: Good to see you Gordo.

Gordon Fury: You too Chrissy.

Without blinking I punch Gordon hard in the arm.

Gordon Fury: Ow! What did I do!

Chris Cryptic: I wonder.

Gordon grins before looking at my head.  A look of mild shock replaced quickly with a smirk is seen on his face.  Here we go.

Gordon Fury: Holy bald Chris, Batman!

Gordon is nothing if not predictable.  I was kinda expecting that to be the first thing he said, not the second.  He's slipping.

Gordon Fury: What the fuck happened?

Chris Cryptic: I shaved my head.

Gordon Fury: Well yeh, but why?

Chris Cryptic: Because I wanted to.  Is that a problem?

Gordon Fury: Well no but.. but...

I let out a sigh.

Chris Cryptic: Just say it.

Gordon Fury: Your head looks like a penis. Like a, pasty white penis.

And there it is.  Fucking idiot.

Chris Cryptic: Of course it does.

I shake my head as he chuckles to himself.  I notice his eyes go to my green smoothie I just made, and I get a look of concern from Gordo.

Gordon Fury: Chris no! Don't tell me those veggie bastards got to you too!

I can't help but laugh out loud.  Even now after all of this time, Gordo still makes me laugh.

Chris Cryptic: Easy Gordo, I still love my steak and bacon.  Unlike you though, I look after my body, and this drink actually tastes awesome, for it being healthy anyway.

Gordon Fury: I don't believe you.  

Chris Cryptic: Or course you don't.  You don't trust anything without SOMETHING unhealthy in it.

We both laugh before I take a drink of my smoothie.  Not bad.  

Gordon Fury: So Chris, rumour has it you are joining IWF.  Finally decided to go pro, where you belong?

Chris Cryptic: Yes and no.  I am joining the Underground, and I intend to stay there.

Gordon, as expected, doesn't agree with my decision.

Gordon Fury: Come on man don't do that.  If you are anything like you used to be, you could easily beat half of the main roster.  You don't deserve to be stuck in Underground.

Chris Cryptic: I'm not gonna be “stuck” anywhere Gordon.  Underground is the sort of show I BELONG on.  I mean you are doing awesome on the main show, but I'm not moving up just to be fucked over again.

Gordon Fury: Dude, what happened to you before was straight up cunty, but that won't happen again, Alex isn't like that.

He is talking about shit he doesn't understand.

Chris Cryptic:You don't fucking know that Gordon!  I refuse to take the chance of putting myself through that again.  You got lucky with how your shit has turned out, but you know what? Some people aren't so fucking lucky!  Some people have their dreams and goals crushed between the hands of some fuck face in a suit and tie!

I take a deep breath.  I need to calm down.

Chris Cryptic: Underground is what I know.  Fighting against people who want to scratch and claw up the totem pole bit by bit.  Gritty, brutal, and unforgiving.  Where the only thing standing between you and success is your opponent.  I'm not dissing you at all man, but it isn't for me.  I was never in this to get noticed or be famous.  I wrestle, because I love to wrestle.  Wrestling has always been apart of my life, and I may not be known, but that's what the matches are for.

Gordon nods his head before shrugging.

Gordon Fury: I see you are convinced man, and while I think its a shame, I understand.  I mean its probably for the best.

He smirks at me.

Gordon Fury: Now you don't have to fight me.  I would have hated to have embarrassed you in front of millions of people.

I start laughing out loud.  Hard.

Chris Cryptic: Yeh good joke Gordo.  Too bad alarm clocks aren't legal huh?

For people not in the know, Gordo and I brawled in a motel room once, and I was gonna win, but then he smashed me in the head with an alarm clock.  Cheap shotting prick.

Gordon Fury: Like I need that to beat you... Chrissy.

He then blows a kiss at me, and my fists instantly close, as I take a few steps towards him.  Sensing danger, Gordon does the manly thing.

Gordon Fury: Fuck this!  

Gordon then runs around the corner, his loud footsteps heard across the floorboards, as I leave the scene, chasing after him.

Chris Cryptic: Get back here you little bearded bitch!

The two sets of feet thunder down the house as the scene fades to black.


The scene opens in what looks like a dark, neglected gym, because funnily enough, it IS a dark neglected gym.  In the middle of this gym, is a old, broken down wrestling ring.  I am standing in said wrestling ring, in my normal casual clothes, looking around. Written on the canvas under my feet, are the faded letters, “IYHWA”.  I slowly walk over to one of the corners, a shit eating grin on my face.  I remove the turnbuckle cover and chuckle to myself.

Chris Cryptic:  These were the days.  I didn't have enough money to build the ring properly, so I think I used about 10 rolls of duct tape to hold the fucking turnbuckle together.  You know what they say, if you can't fix something with duct tape. You aren't using enough.  

I run my hand along the top ring rope, the dust from it going into the air.

Chris Cryptic:  This takes me back.  The duct tape turnbuckles, the stiff as fuck, constantly breaking ropes, the makeshift canvas.  It wasn't pretty, it wasn't glamorous, but it was real, and it was ours.  Not just mine, but everyone who set foot in this ring.  Because at the end of the day, the wrestling business is about the WRESTLERS, and the wrestling they do inside of the ring.  It seems pretty fucking simple, but a lot of people in this industry tend to forget that simple fact.  They get so caught up in political bullshit, in being famous, that people forget what wrestling has ALWAYS been about. The mother fucking wrestling.

I'm glad to see that this week I am facing a man with similar values.  Noah Marshall, I respect your attitude and your dedication man, I really do, and you were impressive in your win last week.  That said, make no mistake.  I am NOT Joey Myles.   If you think you are going to walk into that ring and beat me the same way you did him, you have another thing coming.  You have the best intentions, and I admire your drive, but at the end of the day, put your intentions in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one gets filled first.

You may have been able to get a win over an unfocused douche bag who is doing this for the wrong reasons, but you need to step up your game if you want to beat me.  See, I am somewhat one of those people you mentioned last week.  My dad never took me anywhere, I don't really know him, but wrestling has always been my escape from life.  So much so that wrestling became my life.  I mean I founded, owned, ran and competed in my own federation off of my own back for christ sake. That takes just a tad bit of effort.  While I haven't been active for a long time, wrestling always has, and I suppose always will be apart of my life.  It is EVERYTHING to me.  Coming to the Underground, into a tournament to crown its first champion? I am more motivated than ever to win this.  You may be serious about this Noah, but you are not ready for me.

I lean of the closest top rope, causing the ropes to squeak.

Chris Cryptic:  You see Noah, not only are you not mental ready to beat me, you aren't physically ready either.  I mean from what I can see, you specialise in suplexes, which I can appreicate.  The thing is though, as you admitted yourself, you aren't strong, technical, or fast. The problem that you have Noah, is that I AM technical, I AM strong, and if you try to play MY game against me, I guarantee that you won't win. Just because you know some suplexes, it doesn't mean I won't repeatedly throw you across the ring. You see Noah, there is more to a suplex than knowing the hold.  You have to know how to use it, which throw suits certain situations, and you can't alwayts take your time.You wrestle the same style as me Noah, but even on top of all the other advantages I have, the main one, is instinct.

Its one thing to learn, it is another thing to feel.  I developed my in ring insticts over my years of being in the ring.  You learn your style, you learn its strengths, and its counter, and you have to adjust on the fly.  I have no doubt if you keep it up, one day you will have to it, but as for right now, I can guarantee you aren't nearlly as ready as you no doubt think you are.

As I said man, you have a lot of heart, and I admire that, but against me, heart is just not gonna be enough.  We are gonna out there, and put on one hell of a main event for these people, but make no mistake.  I WILL be the one getting my hand raised at the end of the match.  This is the chance for me to show the world what I am about, and I am going to make an impact.

I step through the ropes onto the apron.

Chris Cryptic: The Cyptic age has begun, and I'm going to hit it off with a master explosion.  I hope you are ready Noah, because its throwing season, and you are my first volunteer.

I drop down from the apron, leaving the shot.  The scene fades to black.