Post by ππ’π₯ππ¬ πππππ on Nov 10, 2019 19:47:30 GMT -5
With the first round of the Wrestler of the Year Tournament in the books, Corey Black moved on to the second round. Las Vegas clearly wasn't his style, but his stay was extended. With a full week to kill, Corey did the only thing he could think to do - get the hell out of Las Vegas. He headed to Los Angeles, a manageable drive, and went to the LA Zoo. Naturally, at his side is Taylor Swift. They seem to be there early in the morning, before the public is allowed in. A few workers are rummaging around but Corey and Taylor are walking by animal enclosures with no bother.
"It's wonderful to get out of those stuffy arenas and hotel rooms, isn't it?" Taylor asks as she peers over a ledge into the gorilla exhibit.
"Anything to get away from the lights and depression," retorts Corey.
"You have quite the task coming up."
"Nothing I can't manage with preperation."
Taylor shrugs and continues walking, Corey slowly dropping behind. His eyes are fixated on the ground, until a large thud emanates from the distance. This causes Taylor to yelp, her body jolts in surprise. Dead ahead is a raging elephant, locked inside a sturdy glass enclosure but it is charging at the entrance. As it's large head ricochets off the reinforced walls, a nearby worker grabs a remote device and presses the button on it, seemingly unleashing an internal taser and rendering the animal unconscious. The whole affair has Taylor gasping for oxygen, clearly shaken. Corey Black didn't even notice, it seems.
"HOLY crap can we please get the heck out of here?!" Taylor basically screams, knocking Corey out of whatever was i his mind.
"Oh, what, yeah! Let's go. This isn't for me either."
The duo rapidly head for the exit and get into Corey's car. As they drive away, Taylor turns to Corey.
"Why would they even keep an animal like that around if they have to have something like that to stop him? The workers should do something."
"Their job, Taylor. Their job is to watch out for that elephant and keep everyone safe. They get paid to keep a close eye on it."
"Maybe there's something we can do then? It seems dangerous."
"It's fine, all the precautions are in place. There's nothing we could do that hasn't already been tried, I'm sure. That's just how it is and that's it. He's a beast, should have been put down years ago, at least locked far away from mankind. But he's behind protection with the key to stopping any rampage never far. It isn't ideal. Is anything ever ideal? Am I ideal?"
Taylor turns and gazes out the window. "It's always something with you."
"I'm serious, I have flaws just like everyone else does. I'm not a danger to anyone that isn't in a wrestling ring with me but the baggage is plentiful."
"Everyone has baggage. There isn't a soul walking this Earth that doesn't wish they could go back and change something."
"Exactly. The folks that are a danger are put behind plexiglass and bars. Well, most of them anyway."
Taylor turns back to Corey, placing her hand on his.
"You can beat him. I always bet on Black, remember?"
Back in Las Vegas, Corey is in his hotel room at the beautiful, luxurious Slickie T Guilano Hotel and Casino. He's got a tablet, his phone and the TV all on watching similar things - Action Wrestling shows. Specifically Walter matches. He's got a notepad, scribbling down whatever he sees. The hotel door opens, in steps Taylor Swift and an Action Wrestling staffer. Taylor puts down her bags and looks over to Corey.
"This guy wants an autograph and also you presence in the conference room down the hall, apparently you're scheduled for a Youtube promo," she says condescendingly.
In a huff, Corey stops all his screens and marches down the hall. He enters, the camera and banner setup as last week. He stands in front of the Action Wrestling logo and awaits the countdown from the cameraman.
"Man evolved. Normally, I'd begin these by saying I've seen someone just like who I am fighting against. Twenty years in the business, there's bound to be some repeats. But Walter is something entirely new. He's huge, capable, willing and frankly - destruction wrapped up in a human package. He's less wrestler, more beast. Within the confines of the squared circle, I am the best wrestler. I can out-wrestle anyone on this roster. Walter doesn't wrestle. He attacks to maim. He has a one track mind and nothing will stop him from his goal - ultimate annihilation.
Nothing will stop him.. except Kyle Kemp.
Now, I realize Walter brutalized Kemp on more than one occasion, but there was one night - Carnage, to be exact - where the indestructible man became human again. To someone like Derrick Vayden, it was just a match his opponent was in. Nothing remarkable about it at all, he has the biggest task of his life and couldn't get it done because he didn't see what I see. To a veteran, it was the path to victory.
That was the moment when the world bore witness to a monster becoming human again. It IS possible to defeat the giant. The slingshot is within everyone's grasp, you just have to know what you're doing with it. Don't aim for the head, go for the throat. Kyle Kemp latched onto Walter's neck and choked him out as he has done to countless others. It was a case of sweet, sweet revenge as Walter's life was strangled out of him. We've seen him pass out, we've seen him bleed - and that's all I need to see. If he bleeds, I can beat him.
That doesn't hinder someone like Walter. He doesn't care who is in front of him, all he knows is that they have life and he wants it gone. The US Title is nothing more than an object that signifies he has destroyed a man to win it. The true meaning of the championship is lost on the brutal being, and that is the most dangerous piece of the puzzle. Not his size, strength or unwavering mission to inflict punishment. No, Walter's overwhelming trait comes in the form of his lack of relationship with wrestling as a whole. There's no planning for him. He doesn't train every day for this. He doesn't study tapes. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into.
But like every evil, there's some good. Manufactured or not, more vulnerability was shown. Roger Payton Jr's sister, Alyssa. The beast feels, as well. He can form, at the very least, a friendship. There's compassion within his heart. A chink in the armor of the bulletproof behemoth.
It's a strange case of Jekyll and Hyde, isn't it? He goes to the ring to live out his perversions of violence. And he does just that. A streak unlike anything we've seen lately. But Alyssa has broken through to him. Etta seems to know his true nature outside the ropes as well. They make it seem like he's almost human, a split personality, likely bipolar and on the extreme end, certifiably insane.
The more I sit here and talk about Walter, the more similar we sound. We have both done some things in our past we'd like to forget. We've shown our hand when it comes to muses. And, at one time or another, we both had an on and off switch. Something inside that clicked and let the beast out. I beat my demon. I drove it away. It doesn't make me stronger, or even better. It makes me - ME. I'm still the name people tremble seeing theirs against. I'm still the measuring stick, the best to ever get it done.
Walter is a walking freak show, a disgrace to the SPORT. As similar as we are, we're vastly different beyond those fleeting comparisons. I stunned the wrestling world last week when I sent the number four seed in Alex Richards packing. I'm not surprised at all. I stood in front of this camera and told you exactly what was going to happen.
Here I stand, doing it again.
I do not fear Walter. I do not take him lightly, either. He's an unpredictable machine, it will take everything I have to slay him. I give everything I have every time I'm out there. That's why I'm unwavering. I am the owner and operator of this Action Wrestling Slaughterhouse.
You've been chosen to spend your final moments in this tournament with me, Walter.
I used to be a fucking monster. I would walk to the ring and not leave it until my opponent was in a pool of blood, win lose or draw. But then I earned my humanity. I realized that winning didn't mean shit if nobody cares for you. You can only celebrate alone so many times before your heart just doesn't feel it anymore. I've suffered so many personal losses, so many people important to me no longer live among us. I had nothing and it was because of the demon that was inside.
I can't fix Walter. I can't do anything to show him the light or tell him what to do. Hell, maybe he likes it this way. All I can do it go to the ring and do what I do best. Man or monster, it doesn't matter. That isn't my fight. My fight is for Wrestler of the Year and my task is a great one, beat the near unbeatable.
I made my career doing just that. Hellz Angel, Logan, Torture, Skyler Striker, Thomas Bates, Alex fucking Richards. All names that are bigger, stronger and had the upper hand.
There is no upper hand against me. I have the advantage every single time. I know my opponent, I know what they are capable of, and I know how to beat them. The only intangible is how I get there. And it doesn't matter to him, because he is overwhelming to most. Most. Not me. I am the guy that wrestled six deathmatches in seven days and didn't lose one. Walter is going to brutalize me if he can get his hands on me. I am prepared. I'll be lucky to get back to my hotel room in one piece, there's no avoiding it. But there is nobody else on this roster that can take what he has and still pull it off. He can unleash every evil intention he has, I will get back up and ask for more until my body literally cannot go. Who has more will? He wants to win, he's made it clear. He wants to be recognized as the best in Action Wrestling. He wants the trophy and the World Championship not because that signifies he beat the best to get there, but because men were put in his way and he did what he does best.
I didn't come back full time just to get punked out in the second round of a tournament against a killing machine that doesn't even fucking wrestle. Some programmed science experiment robot that needs a button to care about literally anything. I am the Last King, and I'm here to drive my elbow into that circuit board brain of his and choke him the fuck out like Kyle Kemp did. While Derrick Vayden is checking under his bed nightly making sure Walter isn't there, when I move on in this tournament, the beast is going to be checking under his bed for me.
Man evolved, he says. That's what he thinks of himself. He's the next evolution in our kind. Evolution isn't manufactured. For a man to evolve he has to spend countless years honing his craft and perfecting everything he does. Sacrificing mostly everything to become the very best version of himself. You don't evolve with implants. Kim Kardashian isn't the next evolution of anything except scum sucking bitch. I am man evolved. I am what every person on this roster should strive to be, even Walter. Especially Walter. I am everything he thinks he is. I am a better version of him in every sense of the term. Only the strongest will survive this. The strongest will. The strongest brain. The strongest heart.
I've never been the strongest when it comes to physical stature. Clearly I am outmatched in that aspect here too. It has never once stopped me from going out there and shocking the world. A world that should maybe start believing. Walter is getting that same six time World Champion Richards got, he's getting the guy that crushes tournaments like they're breakfast. I am not to be overlooked simply because the opponent is bigger.
I'm about to topple the biggest. The scariest. The strangest. I am about to expose Walter and show him that he's in the wrong place, there's men in this world that will stand up to his destruction for the love of the sport and the will to stand victorious. I've had this will since 2001, Walter. Long before I was on national television, I was on the indie circuit winning titles at the age of eighteen. Most of my life has been dedicated to perfecting the ART of professional wrestling, I'll be damned if I succumb to a sociopathic beast like you. This is about more than Wrestler of the Year, this is about overcoming the obstacles in life that just aren't fucking fair. I didn't ask to be saddled with Creeping Death. I didn't want it. You WANT to wring the necks of everyone you step into that ring with. You want to choke the life out of me, not because I did anything to you, but because in your dark heart, that's just who you fucking are. You shouldn't be here in Action Wrestling, Walter, you belong in a dark room with chains and dread.
That shit just doesn't fly with me, Walter. We've never spoken to one another, we've never even crossed paths as far as I know. You're just malicious because you can be. Well, heh, newsflash. You can't be with me. You can't do anything that I haven't already experienced. Me though. You've never had your skull shattered by an elbow. You've never had a grown man flip through the sky and drive the life out of you with a Phoenix Splash. And Walter.. you think you're too big for the Burning Hammer? Nobody is too big for that. I'll drop you on your dome and send you back to Haddonfield Psychiatric.
It's high time someone stands up to you and shows you that you're truly human, Walter. You bleed, your pass out, and at Clash.. you're defeatable. It won't be a cakewalk, you're fucking dangerous. But you aren't untouchable. You aren't unbreakable."
Corey nods to the camera and it is stopped, without saying much of anything he darts out of the conference room and back into his hotel room. Inside he finds Taylor has changed the channel, no longer is the television on a Walter match. Taylor sits up and hits pause.
"You need to calm down," she says, in that tune. Corey isn't amused.
"This dude is a wrecking machine Taylor, I can't goof off. Even if you are watching the 1991 cinematic classic Point Break."
"Did Johnny Utah spend his whole life sizing up Bodhi and the Ex-Presidents or did he have a little fun in between?"
"Excuse me?!"
"Utah had time to develop a relationship with Tyler, learn how to surf AND he still had time to crack the case."
"No offense but Walter would eat all the Ex-Presidents for fun."
"So unleash the 50-Year Storm on him. You just don't have to become obsessed all the time. He's a bad dude, sure, but you're the baddest to ever lace them up. You're the Last King, Corey, you shouldn't worry yourself so much. You got this. You have them all."
"Worry? It's studying. Something he won't do because he is so big and so strong, he doesn't think he needs to do it, it's my advantage. He could knock someone out with one strike, he can choke out a boar. If I can pinpoint his unorthodox style, I will make my life way easier. I'm close to breaking it, I have something in my back pocket he sure isn't going to expect."
"I'm just saying, get out there and win it, but enjoy the rest of your life too. Vaya con dios."
"This is my life, there is no off season. I don't drop an album and tour, then take years off writing another album. I am out there week to week. I should have been MVP of WrestleSeason, I should be Wrestle of the Year. I am the only one out there going at this level for this long and still destroying people that are inexplicably ranked higher than me. He's number six in this ranking, I'm thirteen."
"And Richards was four, you beat him and you didn't spend all your free time watching his matches."
"I know Alex Richards, I know what makes him tick and what makes him him."
"You know what makes Walter go too."
"I do, but I don't know what his movement will be. He's unpredictable and dangerous."
Taylor is getting frustrated with this conversation. "Let's go surfing. Or rob a bank. Maybe both?"
Corey sits down beside her. He breathes in deep and paces his arm around her.
"Tell ya what, if I pull this one off, we'll go surfing and rob a bank."
Her eyes light up, she reaches behind the bed and pulls out Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter masks. Corey finally breaks, he laughs. It's just so absurd. Corey puts his mask on and delivers a German suplex onto the bed, launching Taylor foot over head! She puts the mask on as well and comes back with a Stone Cold Stunner!
"It's wonderful to get out of those stuffy arenas and hotel rooms, isn't it?" Taylor asks as she peers over a ledge into the gorilla exhibit.
"Anything to get away from the lights and depression," retorts Corey.
"You have quite the task coming up."
"Nothing I can't manage with preperation."
Taylor shrugs and continues walking, Corey slowly dropping behind. His eyes are fixated on the ground, until a large thud emanates from the distance. This causes Taylor to yelp, her body jolts in surprise. Dead ahead is a raging elephant, locked inside a sturdy glass enclosure but it is charging at the entrance. As it's large head ricochets off the reinforced walls, a nearby worker grabs a remote device and presses the button on it, seemingly unleashing an internal taser and rendering the animal unconscious. The whole affair has Taylor gasping for oxygen, clearly shaken. Corey Black didn't even notice, it seems.
"HOLY crap can we please get the heck out of here?!" Taylor basically screams, knocking Corey out of whatever was i his mind.
"Oh, what, yeah! Let's go. This isn't for me either."
The duo rapidly head for the exit and get into Corey's car. As they drive away, Taylor turns to Corey.
"Why would they even keep an animal like that around if they have to have something like that to stop him? The workers should do something."
"Their job, Taylor. Their job is to watch out for that elephant and keep everyone safe. They get paid to keep a close eye on it."
"Maybe there's something we can do then? It seems dangerous."
"It's fine, all the precautions are in place. There's nothing we could do that hasn't already been tried, I'm sure. That's just how it is and that's it. He's a beast, should have been put down years ago, at least locked far away from mankind. But he's behind protection with the key to stopping any rampage never far. It isn't ideal. Is anything ever ideal? Am I ideal?"
Taylor turns and gazes out the window. "It's always something with you."
"I'm serious, I have flaws just like everyone else does. I'm not a danger to anyone that isn't in a wrestling ring with me but the baggage is plentiful."
"Everyone has baggage. There isn't a soul walking this Earth that doesn't wish they could go back and change something."
"Exactly. The folks that are a danger are put behind plexiglass and bars. Well, most of them anyway."
Taylor turns back to Corey, placing her hand on his.
"You can beat him. I always bet on Black, remember?"
Back in Las Vegas, Corey is in his hotel room at the beautiful, luxurious Slickie T Guilano Hotel and Casino. He's got a tablet, his phone and the TV all on watching similar things - Action Wrestling shows. Specifically Walter matches. He's got a notepad, scribbling down whatever he sees. The hotel door opens, in steps Taylor Swift and an Action Wrestling staffer. Taylor puts down her bags and looks over to Corey.
"This guy wants an autograph and also you presence in the conference room down the hall, apparently you're scheduled for a Youtube promo," she says condescendingly.
In a huff, Corey stops all his screens and marches down the hall. He enters, the camera and banner setup as last week. He stands in front of the Action Wrestling logo and awaits the countdown from the cameraman.
"Man evolved. Normally, I'd begin these by saying I've seen someone just like who I am fighting against. Twenty years in the business, there's bound to be some repeats. But Walter is something entirely new. He's huge, capable, willing and frankly - destruction wrapped up in a human package. He's less wrestler, more beast. Within the confines of the squared circle, I am the best wrestler. I can out-wrestle anyone on this roster. Walter doesn't wrestle. He attacks to maim. He has a one track mind and nothing will stop him from his goal - ultimate annihilation.
Nothing will stop him.. except Kyle Kemp.
Now, I realize Walter brutalized Kemp on more than one occasion, but there was one night - Carnage, to be exact - where the indestructible man became human again. To someone like Derrick Vayden, it was just a match his opponent was in. Nothing remarkable about it at all, he has the biggest task of his life and couldn't get it done because he didn't see what I see. To a veteran, it was the path to victory.
That was the moment when the world bore witness to a monster becoming human again. It IS possible to defeat the giant. The slingshot is within everyone's grasp, you just have to know what you're doing with it. Don't aim for the head, go for the throat. Kyle Kemp latched onto Walter's neck and choked him out as he has done to countless others. It was a case of sweet, sweet revenge as Walter's life was strangled out of him. We've seen him pass out, we've seen him bleed - and that's all I need to see. If he bleeds, I can beat him.
That doesn't hinder someone like Walter. He doesn't care who is in front of him, all he knows is that they have life and he wants it gone. The US Title is nothing more than an object that signifies he has destroyed a man to win it. The true meaning of the championship is lost on the brutal being, and that is the most dangerous piece of the puzzle. Not his size, strength or unwavering mission to inflict punishment. No, Walter's overwhelming trait comes in the form of his lack of relationship with wrestling as a whole. There's no planning for him. He doesn't train every day for this. He doesn't study tapes. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into.
But like every evil, there's some good. Manufactured or not, more vulnerability was shown. Roger Payton Jr's sister, Alyssa. The beast feels, as well. He can form, at the very least, a friendship. There's compassion within his heart. A chink in the armor of the bulletproof behemoth.
It's a strange case of Jekyll and Hyde, isn't it? He goes to the ring to live out his perversions of violence. And he does just that. A streak unlike anything we've seen lately. But Alyssa has broken through to him. Etta seems to know his true nature outside the ropes as well. They make it seem like he's almost human, a split personality, likely bipolar and on the extreme end, certifiably insane.
The more I sit here and talk about Walter, the more similar we sound. We have both done some things in our past we'd like to forget. We've shown our hand when it comes to muses. And, at one time or another, we both had an on and off switch. Something inside that clicked and let the beast out. I beat my demon. I drove it away. It doesn't make me stronger, or even better. It makes me - ME. I'm still the name people tremble seeing theirs against. I'm still the measuring stick, the best to ever get it done.
Walter is a walking freak show, a disgrace to the SPORT. As similar as we are, we're vastly different beyond those fleeting comparisons. I stunned the wrestling world last week when I sent the number four seed in Alex Richards packing. I'm not surprised at all. I stood in front of this camera and told you exactly what was going to happen.
Here I stand, doing it again.
I do not fear Walter. I do not take him lightly, either. He's an unpredictable machine, it will take everything I have to slay him. I give everything I have every time I'm out there. That's why I'm unwavering. I am the owner and operator of this Action Wrestling Slaughterhouse.
You've been chosen to spend your final moments in this tournament with me, Walter.
I used to be a fucking monster. I would walk to the ring and not leave it until my opponent was in a pool of blood, win lose or draw. But then I earned my humanity. I realized that winning didn't mean shit if nobody cares for you. You can only celebrate alone so many times before your heart just doesn't feel it anymore. I've suffered so many personal losses, so many people important to me no longer live among us. I had nothing and it was because of the demon that was inside.
I can't fix Walter. I can't do anything to show him the light or tell him what to do. Hell, maybe he likes it this way. All I can do it go to the ring and do what I do best. Man or monster, it doesn't matter. That isn't my fight. My fight is for Wrestler of the Year and my task is a great one, beat the near unbeatable.
I made my career doing just that. Hellz Angel, Logan, Torture, Skyler Striker, Thomas Bates, Alex fucking Richards. All names that are bigger, stronger and had the upper hand.
There is no upper hand against me. I have the advantage every single time. I know my opponent, I know what they are capable of, and I know how to beat them. The only intangible is how I get there. And it doesn't matter to him, because he is overwhelming to most. Most. Not me. I am the guy that wrestled six deathmatches in seven days and didn't lose one. Walter is going to brutalize me if he can get his hands on me. I am prepared. I'll be lucky to get back to my hotel room in one piece, there's no avoiding it. But there is nobody else on this roster that can take what he has and still pull it off. He can unleash every evil intention he has, I will get back up and ask for more until my body literally cannot go. Who has more will? He wants to win, he's made it clear. He wants to be recognized as the best in Action Wrestling. He wants the trophy and the World Championship not because that signifies he beat the best to get there, but because men were put in his way and he did what he does best.
I didn't come back full time just to get punked out in the second round of a tournament against a killing machine that doesn't even fucking wrestle. Some programmed science experiment robot that needs a button to care about literally anything. I am the Last King, and I'm here to drive my elbow into that circuit board brain of his and choke him the fuck out like Kyle Kemp did. While Derrick Vayden is checking under his bed nightly making sure Walter isn't there, when I move on in this tournament, the beast is going to be checking under his bed for me.
Man evolved, he says. That's what he thinks of himself. He's the next evolution in our kind. Evolution isn't manufactured. For a man to evolve he has to spend countless years honing his craft and perfecting everything he does. Sacrificing mostly everything to become the very best version of himself. You don't evolve with implants. Kim Kardashian isn't the next evolution of anything except scum sucking bitch. I am man evolved. I am what every person on this roster should strive to be, even Walter. Especially Walter. I am everything he thinks he is. I am a better version of him in every sense of the term. Only the strongest will survive this. The strongest will. The strongest brain. The strongest heart.
I've never been the strongest when it comes to physical stature. Clearly I am outmatched in that aspect here too. It has never once stopped me from going out there and shocking the world. A world that should maybe start believing. Walter is getting that same six time World Champion Richards got, he's getting the guy that crushes tournaments like they're breakfast. I am not to be overlooked simply because the opponent is bigger.
I'm about to topple the biggest. The scariest. The strangest. I am about to expose Walter and show him that he's in the wrong place, there's men in this world that will stand up to his destruction for the love of the sport and the will to stand victorious. I've had this will since 2001, Walter. Long before I was on national television, I was on the indie circuit winning titles at the age of eighteen. Most of my life has been dedicated to perfecting the ART of professional wrestling, I'll be damned if I succumb to a sociopathic beast like you. This is about more than Wrestler of the Year, this is about overcoming the obstacles in life that just aren't fucking fair. I didn't ask to be saddled with Creeping Death. I didn't want it. You WANT to wring the necks of everyone you step into that ring with. You want to choke the life out of me, not because I did anything to you, but because in your dark heart, that's just who you fucking are. You shouldn't be here in Action Wrestling, Walter, you belong in a dark room with chains and dread.
That shit just doesn't fly with me, Walter. We've never spoken to one another, we've never even crossed paths as far as I know. You're just malicious because you can be. Well, heh, newsflash. You can't be with me. You can't do anything that I haven't already experienced. Me though. You've never had your skull shattered by an elbow. You've never had a grown man flip through the sky and drive the life out of you with a Phoenix Splash. And Walter.. you think you're too big for the Burning Hammer? Nobody is too big for that. I'll drop you on your dome and send you back to Haddonfield Psychiatric.
It's high time someone stands up to you and shows you that you're truly human, Walter. You bleed, your pass out, and at Clash.. you're defeatable. It won't be a cakewalk, you're fucking dangerous. But you aren't untouchable. You aren't unbreakable."
Corey nods to the camera and it is stopped, without saying much of anything he darts out of the conference room and back into his hotel room. Inside he finds Taylor has changed the channel, no longer is the television on a Walter match. Taylor sits up and hits pause.
"You need to calm down," she says, in that tune. Corey isn't amused.
"This dude is a wrecking machine Taylor, I can't goof off. Even if you are watching the 1991 cinematic classic Point Break."
"Did Johnny Utah spend his whole life sizing up Bodhi and the Ex-Presidents or did he have a little fun in between?"
"Excuse me?!"
"Utah had time to develop a relationship with Tyler, learn how to surf AND he still had time to crack the case."
"No offense but Walter would eat all the Ex-Presidents for fun."
"So unleash the 50-Year Storm on him. You just don't have to become obsessed all the time. He's a bad dude, sure, but you're the baddest to ever lace them up. You're the Last King, Corey, you shouldn't worry yourself so much. You got this. You have them all."
"Worry? It's studying. Something he won't do because he is so big and so strong, he doesn't think he needs to do it, it's my advantage. He could knock someone out with one strike, he can choke out a boar. If I can pinpoint his unorthodox style, I will make my life way easier. I'm close to breaking it, I have something in my back pocket he sure isn't going to expect."
"I'm just saying, get out there and win it, but enjoy the rest of your life too. Vaya con dios."
"This is my life, there is no off season. I don't drop an album and tour, then take years off writing another album. I am out there week to week. I should have been MVP of WrestleSeason, I should be Wrestle of the Year. I am the only one out there going at this level for this long and still destroying people that are inexplicably ranked higher than me. He's number six in this ranking, I'm thirteen."
"And Richards was four, you beat him and you didn't spend all your free time watching his matches."
"I know Alex Richards, I know what makes him tick and what makes him him."
"You know what makes Walter go too."
"I do, but I don't know what his movement will be. He's unpredictable and dangerous."
Taylor is getting frustrated with this conversation. "Let's go surfing. Or rob a bank. Maybe both?"
Corey sits down beside her. He breathes in deep and paces his arm around her.
"Tell ya what, if I pull this one off, we'll go surfing and rob a bank."
Her eyes light up, she reaches behind the bed and pulls out Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter masks. Corey finally breaks, he laughs. It's just so absurd. Corey puts his mask on and delivers a German suplex onto the bed, launching Taylor foot over head! She puts the mask on as well and comes back with a Stone Cold Stunner!