Post by Gerard Angelo on Apr 28, 2024 13:59:05 GMT -5
“Okay and three, two, one,” the doctor counted down before he stuck the syringe into Tony Angelo’s IV, injecting one more drug for the cocktail as Gerard looked on. He sat in a chair next to the hospital bed the unconscious body of his father. Tony was kept in the hospital ward of the Phoenix Project facility. Gerard looked around at the doctors and nurses milling about the room, checking the machines and the vital signs of his father. The last time Gerry was here was when he tried to free his father from these people. Now he was working with them to wake him up.
Gerard gazed over at his father as if noticing for the first time how different he looked. His usually short-cropped dark hair was reaching down towards his shoulders now and a full beard adorned his normally clean-shaven face. Tony looked much more frail than the last time he saw him. Gerard closed his eyes and rubbed them with a thumb and pointer finger. He hoped that after this, it would all be over and his father would be back to his normal self sooner rather than later. Someone approached Gerard, making the wrestler look up. It was Windthrope.
“The drug cocktail has been administered,” the doctor said, adjusting his thin-framed glasses, “All that’s left to do is wait.”
“How long will it take?”
“An hour? A day? A week?” Windthrope just shrugged, “Medically induced comas are not an exact science. I suggest you just get comfortable. You may be here a while.”
Gerard gave him a look of annoyance but simply nodded.
“All there is to do now is wait,” Windthrope continued, “Nurse McDaniels will be here to monitor everything or get you anything you need.”
A thin, middle-aged, woman turned and gave a little wave to introduce herself before she went back to checking vitals on her tablet. Windthrope clasped his hands behind his back as he turned back to Gerard.
“I will check in later with you. I have other matters that require my attention. We’ll give you some privacy.”
With a curt nod, the doctor turned on his heel and exited the room, most of the doctors and nurses trailing after him. Nurse McDaniels moves over to Gerard.
“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” She asked. Gerard shook his head.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She nodded and exited herself, leaving Gerard alone with the beeping of the monitors and his thoughts. He sat back in the chair and sighed. This wasn’t what he signed up for. Gerard wasn’t expecting to spend days just sitting here in this uncomfortable chair. He didn’t bring an overnight bag nor extra clothes and he doubted they’d let him leave. Just his luck this was happening the same week he needed to prepare for not one but three contenders for his World Championship. He fought Teo and Odin enough to know that if he wasn’t overly prepared and focused, his title reign would end before it even got started. Muru was new but Gerard knew from experience that didn’t matter. He had won his first World title six months into his ADub career and he wasn't about to be on the losing end of another shocking title change if he could help it.
Gerry sighed again. He didn’t know he kept getting tied up with organizations trying to control the world. All he wanted to do was wrestle and star in the occasional motion picture. He was pretty sure dealing with all of this was taking years off his life. He wondered if Tony would even appreciate all he was doing for him or would he just do what he always did and look for the negatives in everything. Gerard thought more than once about just cutting his losses and leaving Tony to his fate. It felt like his karma for his choices in life. He looked over at his father for a long while before he shook his head.
No, he wouldn’t do that. Despite all his father’s flaws and faults, he didn’t deserve to go out this way. His baby brother didn’t deserve to grow up without his father and Katia still needed Tony. He was doing this for them and Sean, the people he loved. Deep down he was doing it for himself. Maybe saving his father would finally let Gerry let go of the past and begin to heal from old wounds. Hell, maybe he’d even go back to therapy once this was over.
Gerard pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked on the Paramount+ app. Since he had to wait, he may as well be productive and do some scouting. He thumbed through to the ADub area of the app before pulling up the World title match from April Fools Gold. Gerry watched Teo and Odin battle but as much as he tried to fight it, he felt his eyelids getting heavy. His eyes kept shutting and opening as he battled but finally succumbed to sleep, dozing off in the chair.
A lot of shocked faces at the end of Clash, huh? A big surprise, eh? I fucking told you what the end of Clash was going to look like. I did what I always do and spoke my truth into existence. I said I was gonna win the tag match. I said I was gonna go All-In and become champion. Hell, those are just recent examples of me manifesting my destiny like a middle-aged white woman. It’s like I can see into the future. I’m doing it right now and I can tell ya I’m walking into Blast as World Champ and, despite Brady Dolt’s best efforts, I’m walking out World Champ. I’d do a while bit of “Gerry Math” but rambling incoherently about nonsense is Odin’s gimmick.
You know, Muru, if I were you I’d be pissed that I had to go through a whole-ass battle royal to earn a title shot at Blast, only to have Teo and Odin get added into the match because they’re butt-hurt dorks. You should be coming out here ready to set the world on fire that you got your chances of winning a title drastically cut, ready to beat the fuck out of all of us. But from what I’ve seen you’re just happy that you don’t have to face the Living Legend one on one with piss running down your leg. I get it though. Having to face the greatest professional wrestler of all time one-on-one in your first title match is intimidating for a lesser man. It's easier to have two more geeks in the match so there’s a built-in layer of excuses for when you walk out empty-handed and go back to the bottom of the card where you belong.
You’re too much of a beta cuck to be in the main event, Muru. You’re gonna get eaten alive being as soft as baby shit like you are. You said you didn’t know if you could do what I did to become champion. That’s why you won’t win. You don’t have the fucking stones to do what is necessary to be the top fucking dog in the industry. You are all such fucking dorks talking about honor and respect when it comes to this fucking business. I had a guaranteed title match whenever I wanted. Why the fuck would I announce that ahead of time? This business isn’t about making friends and having the best matches, it’s about making money and winning titles. No one remembers how you won a championship. They only remember how many you won.
You wanna question how I conduct my business? ME? I’m sitting here a three-time ADub World Champion while you’re a forty-two-year-old failure still looking for his big break in this business. But I’m the one making the wrong choices. If you wanna be cliche and ask me how I sleep at night, I get a full eight hours buddy. If you were less of a pussy maybe you’d be sitting in the big house, counting your millions of dollars while getting your dick sucked by a famous actress. You asked me how it felt to be so desperate. Lemme ask you how it felt to feel my boot stomp your ugly fucking face into the canvas and pin you?
Windthrope stood in his high-security lab, checking the vitals on one of the artificial wombs that were used to grow and maintain the specimens. The doctor pushed his glasses up with one hand and used the other to rub his eyes. Windthrope would be happier once this entire ordeal was over. He was honest when he told Gerard that the situation raged out of control like wildfire. He panicked when Tony told him his funding was being cut. This was his life’s work and he knew without funding from AngTech, he would have lost everything. The clone wasn’t supposed to replace Tony for this long. John can honestly say he got carried away with the power. It wasn’t until he sent the clones of Gerard Angelo like he was putting a hit out on someone to see how far he had strayed from his original mission. He wanted to make things right.
Sure, he could’ve kept going down the route he was but John Windthrope thought of himself as a good man. He was going to seamlessly bring Tony back to the real world and his family. He just needed some assurances as he knew how petty and angry Tony Angelo could get. He could ruin him. That’s why he needed Gerard. The young man would convince his father and then the future of the Phoenix Project and ultimately, the human race would be secured. Windthrope glanced up at the containment pod, the blonde women suspended in the embryonic fluid with wires and tubes attached. He was going to reward Gerard with what he wanted.
Odin Balfore, you’re a waste of fucking oxygen. You wanna save Action Wrestling? The best thing you could do for the company is drown in a pool. I’m getting sick and tired of bench players talking like starters. The only reason you got thrust back into the main event scene after years away from it is because ADub had a mass exodus. A year ago you were begging for a tag partner because ADub was talented for your old ass to go it alone. You saw a power vacuum at the top of the card you tried to claim only to see it filled by Teo Blaze of all people. The cream always rises to the top, Odin, and you sunk like fucking lead. You keep spouting off how you’re the best we have here and how you need to be World Champ to #SaveADub. You’re a fucking mid-carder punching above his fucking weight class and I’m about haymaker you like Tyson.
Every time it comes to winning a title that matters here in Action, you fucking whiff on it. All-In? Nope. World title? Nope. You choke worse than Quavo trying to respond to a Chris Brown diss track. But yeah Odin’s big and just did a cycle, so let’s keep shoving him in there. It’s probably for the best though. One week with you as champ would have CBS trying to cancel their contract with us because you talk like you were the first person over the threshold on January 6. It’s time you stop rambling into the mic and ramble over to the retirement home, grandpa. We done with the fucking 90s.
I guess you even are a little self-aware and thought you needed to freshen up your whole… thing... You do. But you decide to be even more cringe and making fucking ZMac the guy who talks for you? Jesus fucking Christ you jumped the fucking shark, huh? You think that’s exciting and fresh? He just says the same dumb shit you say but in a dumber fucking cadence. Good thing I cashed in on your little impromptu match. No way am I letting you two dumb fucks ruin the fucking company with coke-fueled idiocy and CTE that makes Antonio Brown look like Richie Cunningham. You done after I beat your dumb fucking ass again, Odin. You ain’t ever gonna win this world title. Leave the boots in the ring after Blast, take your Hall of Fame induction, and fuck off forever. You don’t got it no more, old man.
Gerard watched as row after row of clones marched through the streets, houses burning as thousands of men with his face moved towards him like an unstoppable flood. He turned and ran but they bared down on him, swarming him like buzzards on a carcass. Gerry tried to escape but thousands of hands grabbed and clawed at him. Gerard stared up and the faces changed into Odin’s, Teo’s, and Muru’s but twisted into hideous, demonic, grins. He felt their claws dig into him and tear his flesh, tearing them apart. Their horrible maws split open and Gerard heard a terrible beep sound. The demons continued to tear Gerry apart, skin and muscles tearing…
Gerard's eyes snapped open as the long extended beep rang out. He looked towards the bed and stood up when he saw Tony sitting up, tearing the wires off his chest as he was trying to yank the breathing tube from his throat.
“Dad! Stop!” Gerard screamed as he rushed over and tried to stop Tony from hurting himself. He swiftly hit the emergency button on the bed as he tried to pin his father down but he was manic and swinging at his son. Nurses and orderlies soon came through the door, helping hold Tony down even as he struggled. After a few moments, he seemed to calm down even starting to register where he was. His eyes settled on Gerard and he seemed to have a moment of clarity.
“Gerry? Where the fuck am I?”
Teo, I did some reflecting on your World title run and I’ve concluded that when you’re not wrestling other vanilla dorks you’re just simply mid. No shame in that though. Not everyone is built to be the top dog. We had the experiment, but it failed so I took back what is rightfully mine. The World Heavyweight Championship. Not a cruiserweight in the name, so after this you can go win your title back from Addy and get back into your niche, buddy.
I know you want to be the face of Action Wrestling. You worked so hard to make everyone take you as a serious champion as you beat Jaice Wilds and Odin Balfore. Everybody beats them, Teo. But I know in your heart of hearts you think you can be the guy around here. You carried CruiserClash! Why not the whole of Action Wrestling? Which is silly because being the face of CruiserClash is a completely different universe than being the face of the entire company, buddy. Hell, despite you being considered the Cruiser Great, you've never consistently been the face of the show your synonymous with. QDT, Regan Vorhees, Addy A, Serenity Holmes, hell even that attention hog Lissie Hope pushed you to the side to be in the spotlight.
And you did nothing about it, pal. You were all too content to watch these people rule over CruiserClash while you did dumb fucking skits with Jenson and held the cosplay tag titles unopposed. That's not the kind of person to lead Action Wrestling. Action needs an alpha, not a guy who's just going to stand aside and let someone else be the face of the brand. To quote James Imgram, You gave it your best but your best wasn’t good enough. There's a reason you stayed on the B show for so damn long. It's because you're a B-plus player. It's because you can't handle being the guy. You'd rather stand aside and let others lead while you crack wise and follow.
And that's fine. Not everyone can stand at the top of the mountain. Not everyone can be the lead actor. You're fit for a supporting role and that's fine. I’ll fill the lead role like only Gerard Angelo can.
I’m not losing my strap to any of you dorks. Blast ends just like Clash did.
With a Hollywood Ending.
Gerard gazed over at his father as if noticing for the first time how different he looked. His usually short-cropped dark hair was reaching down towards his shoulders now and a full beard adorned his normally clean-shaven face. Tony looked much more frail than the last time he saw him. Gerard closed his eyes and rubbed them with a thumb and pointer finger. He hoped that after this, it would all be over and his father would be back to his normal self sooner rather than later. Someone approached Gerard, making the wrestler look up. It was Windthrope.
“The drug cocktail has been administered,” the doctor said, adjusting his thin-framed glasses, “All that’s left to do is wait.”
“How long will it take?”
“An hour? A day? A week?” Windthrope just shrugged, “Medically induced comas are not an exact science. I suggest you just get comfortable. You may be here a while.”
Gerard gave him a look of annoyance but simply nodded.
“All there is to do now is wait,” Windthrope continued, “Nurse McDaniels will be here to monitor everything or get you anything you need.”
A thin, middle-aged, woman turned and gave a little wave to introduce herself before she went back to checking vitals on her tablet. Windthrope clasped his hands behind his back as he turned back to Gerard.
“I will check in later with you. I have other matters that require my attention. We’ll give you some privacy.”
With a curt nod, the doctor turned on his heel and exited the room, most of the doctors and nurses trailing after him. Nurse McDaniels moves over to Gerard.
“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” She asked. Gerard shook his head.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She nodded and exited herself, leaving Gerard alone with the beeping of the monitors and his thoughts. He sat back in the chair and sighed. This wasn’t what he signed up for. Gerard wasn’t expecting to spend days just sitting here in this uncomfortable chair. He didn’t bring an overnight bag nor extra clothes and he doubted they’d let him leave. Just his luck this was happening the same week he needed to prepare for not one but three contenders for his World Championship. He fought Teo and Odin enough to know that if he wasn’t overly prepared and focused, his title reign would end before it even got started. Muru was new but Gerard knew from experience that didn’t matter. He had won his first World title six months into his ADub career and he wasn't about to be on the losing end of another shocking title change if he could help it.
Gerry sighed again. He didn’t know he kept getting tied up with organizations trying to control the world. All he wanted to do was wrestle and star in the occasional motion picture. He was pretty sure dealing with all of this was taking years off his life. He wondered if Tony would even appreciate all he was doing for him or would he just do what he always did and look for the negatives in everything. Gerard thought more than once about just cutting his losses and leaving Tony to his fate. It felt like his karma for his choices in life. He looked over at his father for a long while before he shook his head.
No, he wouldn’t do that. Despite all his father’s flaws and faults, he didn’t deserve to go out this way. His baby brother didn’t deserve to grow up without his father and Katia still needed Tony. He was doing this for them and Sean, the people he loved. Deep down he was doing it for himself. Maybe saving his father would finally let Gerry let go of the past and begin to heal from old wounds. Hell, maybe he’d even go back to therapy once this was over.
Gerard pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked on the Paramount+ app. Since he had to wait, he may as well be productive and do some scouting. He thumbed through to the ADub area of the app before pulling up the World title match from April Fools Gold. Gerry watched Teo and Odin battle but as much as he tried to fight it, he felt his eyelids getting heavy. His eyes kept shutting and opening as he battled but finally succumbed to sleep, dozing off in the chair.
A lot of shocked faces at the end of Clash, huh? A big surprise, eh? I fucking told you what the end of Clash was going to look like. I did what I always do and spoke my truth into existence. I said I was gonna win the tag match. I said I was gonna go All-In and become champion. Hell, those are just recent examples of me manifesting my destiny like a middle-aged white woman. It’s like I can see into the future. I’m doing it right now and I can tell ya I’m walking into Blast as World Champ and, despite Brady Dolt’s best efforts, I’m walking out World Champ. I’d do a while bit of “Gerry Math” but rambling incoherently about nonsense is Odin’s gimmick.
You know, Muru, if I were you I’d be pissed that I had to go through a whole-ass battle royal to earn a title shot at Blast, only to have Teo and Odin get added into the match because they’re butt-hurt dorks. You should be coming out here ready to set the world on fire that you got your chances of winning a title drastically cut, ready to beat the fuck out of all of us. But from what I’ve seen you’re just happy that you don’t have to face the Living Legend one on one with piss running down your leg. I get it though. Having to face the greatest professional wrestler of all time one-on-one in your first title match is intimidating for a lesser man. It's easier to have two more geeks in the match so there’s a built-in layer of excuses for when you walk out empty-handed and go back to the bottom of the card where you belong.
You’re too much of a beta cuck to be in the main event, Muru. You’re gonna get eaten alive being as soft as baby shit like you are. You said you didn’t know if you could do what I did to become champion. That’s why you won’t win. You don’t have the fucking stones to do what is necessary to be the top fucking dog in the industry. You are all such fucking dorks talking about honor and respect when it comes to this fucking business. I had a guaranteed title match whenever I wanted. Why the fuck would I announce that ahead of time? This business isn’t about making friends and having the best matches, it’s about making money and winning titles. No one remembers how you won a championship. They only remember how many you won.
You wanna question how I conduct my business? ME? I’m sitting here a three-time ADub World Champion while you’re a forty-two-year-old failure still looking for his big break in this business. But I’m the one making the wrong choices. If you wanna be cliche and ask me how I sleep at night, I get a full eight hours buddy. If you were less of a pussy maybe you’d be sitting in the big house, counting your millions of dollars while getting your dick sucked by a famous actress. You asked me how it felt to be so desperate. Lemme ask you how it felt to feel my boot stomp your ugly fucking face into the canvas and pin you?
Windthrope stood in his high-security lab, checking the vitals on one of the artificial wombs that were used to grow and maintain the specimens. The doctor pushed his glasses up with one hand and used the other to rub his eyes. Windthrope would be happier once this entire ordeal was over. He was honest when he told Gerard that the situation raged out of control like wildfire. He panicked when Tony told him his funding was being cut. This was his life’s work and he knew without funding from AngTech, he would have lost everything. The clone wasn’t supposed to replace Tony for this long. John can honestly say he got carried away with the power. It wasn’t until he sent the clones of Gerard Angelo like he was putting a hit out on someone to see how far he had strayed from his original mission. He wanted to make things right.
Sure, he could’ve kept going down the route he was but John Windthrope thought of himself as a good man. He was going to seamlessly bring Tony back to the real world and his family. He just needed some assurances as he knew how petty and angry Tony Angelo could get. He could ruin him. That’s why he needed Gerard. The young man would convince his father and then the future of the Phoenix Project and ultimately, the human race would be secured. Windthrope glanced up at the containment pod, the blonde women suspended in the embryonic fluid with wires and tubes attached. He was going to reward Gerard with what he wanted.
Odin Balfore, you’re a waste of fucking oxygen. You wanna save Action Wrestling? The best thing you could do for the company is drown in a pool. I’m getting sick and tired of bench players talking like starters. The only reason you got thrust back into the main event scene after years away from it is because ADub had a mass exodus. A year ago you were begging for a tag partner because ADub was talented for your old ass to go it alone. You saw a power vacuum at the top of the card you tried to claim only to see it filled by Teo Blaze of all people. The cream always rises to the top, Odin, and you sunk like fucking lead. You keep spouting off how you’re the best we have here and how you need to be World Champ to #SaveADub. You’re a fucking mid-carder punching above his fucking weight class and I’m about haymaker you like Tyson.
Every time it comes to winning a title that matters here in Action, you fucking whiff on it. All-In? Nope. World title? Nope. You choke worse than Quavo trying to respond to a Chris Brown diss track. But yeah Odin’s big and just did a cycle, so let’s keep shoving him in there. It’s probably for the best though. One week with you as champ would have CBS trying to cancel their contract with us because you talk like you were the first person over the threshold on January 6. It’s time you stop rambling into the mic and ramble over to the retirement home, grandpa. We done with the fucking 90s.
I guess you even are a little self-aware and thought you needed to freshen up your whole… thing... You do. But you decide to be even more cringe and making fucking ZMac the guy who talks for you? Jesus fucking Christ you jumped the fucking shark, huh? You think that’s exciting and fresh? He just says the same dumb shit you say but in a dumber fucking cadence. Good thing I cashed in on your little impromptu match. No way am I letting you two dumb fucks ruin the fucking company with coke-fueled idiocy and CTE that makes Antonio Brown look like Richie Cunningham. You done after I beat your dumb fucking ass again, Odin. You ain’t ever gonna win this world title. Leave the boots in the ring after Blast, take your Hall of Fame induction, and fuck off forever. You don’t got it no more, old man.
Gerard watched as row after row of clones marched through the streets, houses burning as thousands of men with his face moved towards him like an unstoppable flood. He turned and ran but they bared down on him, swarming him like buzzards on a carcass. Gerry tried to escape but thousands of hands grabbed and clawed at him. Gerard stared up and the faces changed into Odin’s, Teo’s, and Muru’s but twisted into hideous, demonic, grins. He felt their claws dig into him and tear his flesh, tearing them apart. Their horrible maws split open and Gerard heard a terrible beep sound. The demons continued to tear Gerry apart, skin and muscles tearing…
Gerard's eyes snapped open as the long extended beep rang out. He looked towards the bed and stood up when he saw Tony sitting up, tearing the wires off his chest as he was trying to yank the breathing tube from his throat.
“Dad! Stop!” Gerard screamed as he rushed over and tried to stop Tony from hurting himself. He swiftly hit the emergency button on the bed as he tried to pin his father down but he was manic and swinging at his son. Nurses and orderlies soon came through the door, helping hold Tony down even as he struggled. After a few moments, he seemed to calm down even starting to register where he was. His eyes settled on Gerard and he seemed to have a moment of clarity.
“Gerry? Where the fuck am I?”
Teo, I did some reflecting on your World title run and I’ve concluded that when you’re not wrestling other vanilla dorks you’re just simply mid. No shame in that though. Not everyone is built to be the top dog. We had the experiment, but it failed so I took back what is rightfully mine. The World Heavyweight Championship. Not a cruiserweight in the name, so after this you can go win your title back from Addy and get back into your niche, buddy.
I know you want to be the face of Action Wrestling. You worked so hard to make everyone take you as a serious champion as you beat Jaice Wilds and Odin Balfore. Everybody beats them, Teo. But I know in your heart of hearts you think you can be the guy around here. You carried CruiserClash! Why not the whole of Action Wrestling? Which is silly because being the face of CruiserClash is a completely different universe than being the face of the entire company, buddy. Hell, despite you being considered the Cruiser Great, you've never consistently been the face of the show your synonymous with. QDT, Regan Vorhees, Addy A, Serenity Holmes, hell even that attention hog Lissie Hope pushed you to the side to be in the spotlight.
And you did nothing about it, pal. You were all too content to watch these people rule over CruiserClash while you did dumb fucking skits with Jenson and held the cosplay tag titles unopposed. That's not the kind of person to lead Action Wrestling. Action needs an alpha, not a guy who's just going to stand aside and let someone else be the face of the brand. To quote James Imgram, You gave it your best but your best wasn’t good enough. There's a reason you stayed on the B show for so damn long. It's because you're a B-plus player. It's because you can't handle being the guy. You'd rather stand aside and let others lead while you crack wise and follow.
And that's fine. Not everyone can stand at the top of the mountain. Not everyone can be the lead actor. You're fit for a supporting role and that's fine. I’ll fill the lead role like only Gerard Angelo can.
I’m not losing my strap to any of you dorks. Blast ends just like Clash did.
With a Hollywood Ending.