Post by Frank Venable on Nov 10, 2019 23:10:08 GMT -5
FPV RP #11 - Sam Kidsgrove is Cancelled
One down, three to go.
Three headshots, and the King of Slabs was done, eliminated from the Turmoil Tournament. The former Evolution main eventer is just going to have to wait a little bit longer for his shot. In three headshots I managed to single-handedly bust almost everyone's brackets for the tournament. They were so focused on KOS' previous win against me that they forgot who I am and what I'm capable of when my mind is set on something. In three headshots, I secured $3000 worth of donations to a charity of my choosing. Perhaps Doctors Without Borders this time?
In three headshots, I inched my way closer to that World Title.
Life is good. I couldn't feel better about my next opponent, Sam Kidsgrove. We've been through hell once before, and my team came out the other end victorious, while his Hollywood Elite entered into a tailspin they could not recover from. Now he's stableless, winless, and about to take his leave from AW for good at the end of the month.
Not if I have anything to do with it, that is. If I have my way, Sam Kidsgrove isn't even going to make it to Turmoil.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Today I was back at PepsiCo, meeting with Ramon to discuss the next phase of what I've begun to refer to as the Mountain Dew Initiative. When I went to meet him this time, he somehow seemed even more excited about the Initiative than the first time. Perhaps he was getting into his own supply and was on a sugar rush? Who knows.
One down, three to go.
Three headshots, and the King of Slabs was done, eliminated from the Turmoil Tournament. The former Evolution main eventer is just going to have to wait a little bit longer for his shot. In three headshots I managed to single-handedly bust almost everyone's brackets for the tournament. They were so focused on KOS' previous win against me that they forgot who I am and what I'm capable of when my mind is set on something. In three headshots, I secured $3000 worth of donations to a charity of my choosing. Perhaps Doctors Without Borders this time?
In three headshots, I inched my way closer to that World Title.
Life is good. I couldn't feel better about my next opponent, Sam Kidsgrove. We've been through hell once before, and my team came out the other end victorious, while his Hollywood Elite entered into a tailspin they could not recover from. Now he's stableless, winless, and about to take his leave from AW for good at the end of the month.
Not if I have anything to do with it, that is. If I have my way, Sam Kidsgrove isn't even going to make it to Turmoil.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Today I was back at PepsiCo, meeting with Ramon to discuss the next phase of what I've begun to refer to as the Mountain Dew Initiative. When I went to meet him this time, he somehow seemed even more excited about the Initiative than the first time. Perhaps he was getting into his own supply and was on a sugar rush? Who knows.
Ramon: Frank! My friend of friends, come in, sit, sit.
I did as he asked, strolling casually into the office and sitting down at his desk.
FPV: Howdy Ramon. I assume you've got some news for me, yeah?
Ramon: Oh, not just any news! I've heard back from RND, and they've given the greenlight on the first product of the line. We're beginning production on "Blue Headshot" tomorrow!
FPV: Oh, that's just fantastic!
Part of my job as ambassador was the wonderful task of brainstorming new, limited edition flavors for Mountain Dew, the first of which was to be "Blue Headshot", a blueberry-flavored beverage with a reworked mix of sugars and other flavorings. It was the first idea that I had pitched to them, and to see it accepted was exciting.
FPV: Excellent! Glad to hear that you all enjoyed the idea.
Ramon: Enjoyed it? Friend, we were in love with it! It was so...simple, yet it made SO much sense. It was one of those moments where when we first heard name, we knew we had to produce it right away. Just...WOW, I am so glad that the AW audience chose you as their ambassador.
FPV: Heh. Imagine how I feel.
Ramon: Speaking of which, I saw your performance last Monday. You made such an EMPHATIC statement against Mr. Adams, it was very encouraging to see our ambassador do so well.
A short, chuckle came out of me. One of the few times I let my cocky side out is in front of this man, make him feel like he's getting all his money's worth with me.
FPV: Well get used to that feeling, sir. I don't intend on letting go of this momentum any time soon.
And in that moment, a thought popped into my head. An opportunity to not only get more out of this partnership with Ramon and PepsiCo, but to also stick it to one Sam Kidsgrove. Another moment in my petty streak, sure, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up.
FPV: Say Ramon, what plans are there for the Blue Headshot commercial, if there are any yet?
Ramon: Ah, yes. The commercial. Our plan was to slot you into our newest line of commercials, I'm sure you've seen them on TV, and have you promote Blue Headshot. Will that be a problem?
FPV: Actually quite the opposite, it's perfect.
His radiant smile beamed at me once again. From over his shoulder I caught a quick glimpse at the calendar hanging on his wall. He actually did as I asked last week and marked down the 24th of November. I met his smile with my own smirk.
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The on-set dressing room afforded me the perfect amount of privacy to cut a promo. I was the only one in it at the moment, though hair and makeup would soon be making their way inside. My costume for the commercial, a facsimile of the various brands of power armor from the Fallout series, lay slumped to the side, waiting to be donned, while I sat in front of a large mirror, still dressed in my normal clothes. I had about fifteen minutes to myself, although I was certain I wouldn't need that much time. I took my phone out and began to record.
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The on-set dressing room afforded me the perfect amount of privacy to cut a promo. I was the only one in it at the moment, though hair and makeup would soon be making their way inside. My costume for the commercial, a facsimile of the various brands of power armor from the Fallout series, lay slumped to the side, waiting to be donned, while I sat in front of a large mirror, still dressed in my normal clothes. I had about fifteen minutes to myself, although I was certain I wouldn't need that much time. I took my phone out and began to record.
FPV: Hello Kidsgrove! I hope this video finds you well. I know we're set to meet for the second time on Monday, but I just had to show you this. I'm in your world today, Kidsgrove! Shooting commercials for Mountain Dew. I must say, getting that leading man feeling is pretty exciting, but I have to focus on the important things here right now, so I'll get right to the point.
Last week, I showed everyone in the AW locker room and everyone in attendance the power of a well spent second chance. I avenged my loss to KOS and made my way into this match against you, Kidsgrove. You of all people should know about the power of a second chance. When your career was all but over, and you sat there a shell of your former self, you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps, signed that UCI deal and cleaned yourself up. That's not something everyone in that position is able to do, and so I congratulate you on that front, Sam. I mean this when I say I'm glad you're still with us.
But you know about more than just second chances, yeah? You know quite a bit about third chances, and fourth chances, and fifth chances, et cetera et cetera. I've never seen a man lose so consistently to one man over and over again like you've lost to Dandy. True, you bested him the first time, that can't be denied. But in every single confrontation you two have had since then, it's been you on the losing end. What happened, Sam? Surely you should be able to beat a piece of trash like Dandy, no? I know that you have the ability to do it, you've already done it once before! But apparently only the once.
You make yourself up to be this Hollywood gentleman, an icon of class. But I know better, Sam. We all know better. We all see that fire in your eyes when things don't go your way. We see that underneath that facade of class (and yes, it is a facade), that you are an absolute savage with no control over yourself. If I had known any better I'd say it was the drugs, but you've been clean for so long that you don't have that excuse. No, that side of you is the real Sam Kidsgrove: feral. And the one catalyst that can set you off more than anything currently has the World Title over his shoulder.
We've all seen the lows you can go to to get back at that man. Paying off a referee to get added into the Elimination Chamber is certainly on-brand for someone like you. And really, it should have worked out for you. By all means, YOU should be the current world champion. You caught Dandy off-guard, had him out numbered two to one in the start of the match. And yet, you failed. You failed and let Dandy be the one to put you down. All the odds were stacked in your favor, and yet you still failed. He didn't even finish you off, it was Odin Balfore who took you out, you just allowed Dandy to be the one who pinned you because that's just how this eternal dance goes. Dandy pins Sam. Forever.
And now, if you can beat me on Clash, you have a fifty-fifty shot at getting what must be your fifteenth crack at Dandy at this point. I'll just give you a light spoiler warning now before hair and makeup get here: THAT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN. I'm way too fired up from last week, I can't let this energy die, Sam. You may just be looking to get just one more definitive pin on Dandy and end your contract on a high note, but my goal is much simpler: become the World Champion. And If I want to be that, then I'm gonna have to put you down a few weeks earlier than you anticipated. And I'm fully prepped and ready to go, but I can hear people coming to my dressing room, so I'll leave it there for now. Talk to you later.
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A short, middle-aged man by the name of Eddie Crispin, began to shout out his directions to everyone on set. The shoot had been going for about an hour or so at this point, and I had only been seen on camera in my power armor helmet. Crispin's directions were coming to me, but only muffled, as the helmet they had me wear made hearing difficult.
Eddie: Alright camera 1, you focus on Frank and everything he does, stay static! Prop department, get me the sniper rifle right now. Frank, go through lines 7 to 9 of the script, got it?
I gave him a quick thumbs up, as I was pretty sure he wouldn't catch anything I tried to tell him anyways.
Eddie: Good. PROPS, one more thing! Get me a fresh can out of the cooler, we need that thing DRIPPING wet when it comes out.
A lady from the prop department came rushing in, holding a prop sci-fi style sniper rifle in her hands. The juxtaposed image of this tiny woman holding such a comically large gun was pretty amusing, and within my helmet I could get a laugh out without many people noticing. Eddie then directed the girl to hand the gun to me, which I did. For as big as it looked, the gun was actually quite light, probably due to it's nature as a simple prop. A young man then came to Eddie and I, handing me a cold can that bore the design of Mountain Dew's new Blue Headshot flavoring.
Eddie: Alright, places people, places! Quiet on set!
I took my position near Camera 1, shifting myself to look off slightly to the left. Behind me and on the ground was green-screen, with a mountainous desert background to be chroma-keyed in during post. I waited for Eddie to give the word.
Eddie: Aaaaaaaaaaaaand ACTION!
Now performing, I took the rifle in my hands and pretended to look through the scope for just a second, making sure as to not take too long and save precious seconds. I acted as though I had just taken the fatal shot, pulling down on the trigger and reeling back from a recoil that didn't exist. The only noise heard on set was the click of the trigger, the sound of a gunshot would be added in post, I was told. I set the rifle down on the ground before removing my helmet as dramatically as I could. I gazed off to "see my work" and smirked.
FPV: Boom. Headshot.
Without shifting my position at all, I reached for the nearby can and popped the top, drinking in a big gulp. Of course the only thing in the can was water, since the final mix had not been widely produced yet, but I acted as though the drinking was the tastiest carbonated sugar beverage this side of the Mason-Dixon. I kept drinking until Eddie intervened.
Eddie: And CUT! Good work all around, let's go for one more take before moving on, give ourselves something to work with in the editing room, alright?
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The shooting finished about an hour or so later, having gotten all the needed footage of me, as well some footage of a faceless mook in a mask getting blasted in the face. Though I was no longer needed and could leave if I chose to, I instead stayed until the very end of the shoot, both to make a point and also in case I was unexpectedly needed. After a few insert shots were taken, Eddie called out to everyone on set.
The shooting finished about an hour or so later, having gotten all the needed footage of me, as well some footage of a faceless mook in a mask getting blasted in the face. Though I was no longer needed and could leave if I chose to, I instead stayed until the very end of the shoot, both to make a point and also in case I was unexpectedly needed. After a few insert shots were taken, Eddie called out to everyone on set.
Eddie: Alright everyone, that's a wrap! That was a very breezy shoot, thank you all so much for that, and expect to see this thing on TV soon! Lend a hand in tear down and you're free to go.
With everyone helping to tear down the set, I finally had a moment alone with Eddie. When I found out from Ramon I was so giddy, knowing this guy's history.
FPV: Well that was easier than I'd thought it'd be.
Eddie took his gaze away from the crew tearing down and back over to me.
Eddie: Yeah, as far as shoots go this was perhaps the easiest. I'll admit, when I heard it was you I'd be working with, I got a little nervous. I don't do well with wrestler-types, you know?
FPV: Really? Is there any reason for that? I mean, we're not ALL bad, at least I hope we aren't.
I already knew the answer to the question I posed to him, but I still let him answer it himself.
Eddie: Nah trust me, I've had my fair share of shitheads over the years. Be it commercials or cameo appearances on sitcoms and reality shows, they always seem to be ego-driven assholes. But one of them, the one that reeeeally takes the case, was this cat by the name of Kidsgrove. He was starring in this movie I was doin', and I dunno WHAT kinda stuff he was on, but every day on set with him was a goddamn herculean struggle. We'd get into shouting matches right there in front of everyone, and I don't get into shouting matches. But he drove me there. The entire shoot was a shitshow, and by the end of it I had my name Alan Smithee'd off the credits and put it past me. When I found out that he had become a wrestler years later, my first reaction was "Good, put him there with the rest of the shitheads."
This gossip was just too juicy. I had known vaguely of Kidsgrove's dark period before, but to hear this first hand account from someone who lived through it was exciting. It was like listening to a veteran rattle off war stories.
FPV: Well hopefully I've been better to work with than Kidsgrove was. Us wrestlers aren't all bad folk, I promise.
Eddie: Eh, it's gonna take a while to start thinkin' that. But...you're a good start, i'll give you that.
I lended a hand in helping tear down, and was soon off back to Las Vegas. It was almost time to start getting ready for Clash, and the hype to take down Sam Kidsgrove was real.
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Sitting by myself in the seats of the Slickie T Casino and Sports Bar, the silence of the arena where I had beaten KOS the previous week contrasted deeply by the explosion of cheers I had drawn when my hand was raised in victory. It was a situation I was sure to repeat this week against Sam Kidsgrove. I sat and watched as the ring crew began setting up the ring, putting it together piece by piece. In a few hours, when they tear this ring back down, I'll have moved on to face either Lissie Hope or Dandy Devito for the World Title. I took this moment to breath, knowing the week ahead would be a wild one.
Taking my phone out of my pocket once again, I hit record for my final video to Kidsgrove.
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Sitting by myself in the seats of the Slickie T Casino and Sports Bar, the silence of the arena where I had beaten KOS the previous week contrasted deeply by the explosion of cheers I had drawn when my hand was raised in victory. It was a situation I was sure to repeat this week against Sam Kidsgrove. I sat and watched as the ring crew began setting up the ring, putting it together piece by piece. In a few hours, when they tear this ring back down, I'll have moved on to face either Lissie Hope or Dandy Devito for the World Title. I took this moment to breath, knowing the week ahead would be a wild one.
Taking my phone out of my pocket once again, I hit record for my final video to Kidsgrove.
FPV: You need this, don't you Sam? You need this match against me, the chance to get revenge on Dandy, that World Title he's got on him, the works. But most importantly, you need to go out on a high note. End your contract with AW, walk out of the company with the top belt and status as Wrestler of the Year secured.
I can't let you do that, Sam.
There is no reality that I can allow to come to pass where Sam Kidsgrove is crowned Wrestler of the Year at Turmoil, and I have a few reasons why. Firstly, and perhaps the simplest reason, you just haven't won enough. You had a brief flurry of success with The Hollywood Elite's tag reign, and had you carried on with that success, you could've made quite the name for yourself in the latter half of the year. But that tag reign has been your only source of success. You failed to win Havoc, you failed to beat Dandy, you failed to win the title at Execution, you lost your International Title to Dandy, you lost to The Man Made Gods in Hell in a Cell, and finally you lost the Trios tournament and let your most out-there member unilaterally declare The Hollywood Elite extinguished.
That is the year you've had so far, and by all accounts you've had a shitty year. You're already one foot out the door, and you think that just one single day as World Champion before AW inevitably strips you of the World Title is going to make any of what I just listed off feel better at all?
That's the second reason I can't let you win Sam. I don't want a shitty ending to the Turmoil tournament.
You're a movie star, for christ's sake! You should understand how storytelling works and what makes for a satisfying conclusion to any story. Sure, YOUR story might end well if you win, but for literally everyone else in AW, it would be flat, anticlimatic and disappointing to have a guy win your Wrestler of the Year tournament after losing every important match he's been given, after all the shit he's pulled with The Hollywood Elite, only to have him walk out of the door right after winning. It would have been like Hector Rodriguez winning if Lissie hadn't knocked him out first round. No one would have been happy with that ending, and they would have pitched shit to AW if it happened.
I'll give you one more reason, Sammy. I've already beaten you once before under harsher circumstances, and I can do it again without a Cell looming over our heads. I'm on WAY too much of a roll right now, and intend to keep that momentum going until November 24th. I'm just getting started, you're winding down into a temporary retirement. There's a clear better winner of this match between the two of us, I'll let you figure out who that is exactly, Sam.
You could've had this same momentum if you could've just beaten us at WrestleSeason, you know? The whole four weeks before our match, you and your boys had me and my boys right where you wanted us. Every turn, we'd get jumped by you, attacked without provocation, just because I had the moxy to call you out in front of everybody for the bribe you pulled to get into the Chamber. Everyone thought y'all were the clear winners heading into that match, saying that the addition of RJ would hold us down and cost us the match. And you know what happened? RJ kicked ALL of your asses like the madman that he is, and secured us the win. That in and of itself is bad, but I'd reckon that if this was just a handicap match without RJ, that Corey and I still could have won.
You know why I feel so confident saying that, Sam? You know why you lost that match, Sam? Because you and the rest of the Hollywood Elite are cowards with no gumption.
Sure, you can stage a hell of a beatdown, but when it came time to actually square off you three were an uncoordinated mess and fell apart. The next week during the Trios Tournament, the same thing happened, you lost your first round match and your boys peaced out and left you with nothing but yourself. It'd be an amazing redemption run, you clawing your way up the brackets to win the tournament after losing your stable. It would if you weren't such a piece of shit.
You know WHY I'm doing so well right now, Kidsgrove? Why I'm getting all of these opportunities these past few weeks. Because I am the PEOPLE'S CHAMPION and I will do everything I can for those people. They give me the energy I need to do things like beat KOS in round one, or be given a lucrative sponsorship right into the palm of my hands. You've got NOTHING right now, Sam. Why is that, Sam? Why do people not like you these days?
Maybe it's because you threw away every inch of good will you had with the people when you joined with The Hollywood Elite and talked down to them as if they were infants?
Maybe it's because you're so insecure of your own masculinity that you have to refer to me as "basically a woman" to show that you have a chance of beating me (even if I went on to beat you pretty soundly in the Cell.)
Maybe it's because you quite clearly bribed your way into a main event you had no business in for a quick shot at your arch rival (even if you weren't able to win that match in the end?)
Maybe it's because you're such a distrusting misanthrope that you only care about a select group of people and no one else like a typical Hollywood primma donna?
Maybe it's because they remembered from when you were a drunk and remembered how much of a shithead you were?
Maybe it's because you can never beat Dandy these days?
Maybe it's because your Fortnite movie sucks?
Maybe it's just because you're a loser?
Or maybe it's all of those reasons. Either way, you're gonna have to contend with an army backing me up.
Sam Kidsgrove, the time has finally come to cancel you. You're slowly but surely regressing into the asshole-ish tendencies you had before you got clean and sober. You had been doing so well, you had so many fans from both UCI, NBW, AW, Last Action Hero and Destination: London, and yet, none of that matters now. In just a few months, you've managed to turn everyone off of you, alienate anyone from ever working with you, make a fool of yourself with these dire, dire losses, the list goes on. You're a shell of your former self, Kidsgrove. You may have had a hand in helping mold companies like UCI and AW into what they are, but you're just like you were on those z-list reality shows: WASHED UP.
When I beat you at Clash, I'm taking your spot just like I took KOS' spot. You both are pillars of AW that need refurbishing. I'm on the rise, in my prime, and I'm not going to let anyone, let alone a washed up has-been like you stop me anytime soon. I hope you have no more booked dates after I beat you, and that you spend your days outside of the ring mellowing out and taking a much needed chill pill. Maybe then you can come back to AW and get another crack at establishing your dominance. Maybe
Your plans for winning the Turmoil Tournament are cancelled, Sam Kidsgrove. Make peace with that fact soon.