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Post by REDEFINE Pro on May 17, 2015 2:15:08 GMT
Tag Team Grudge Match: Jack Owyns & Grayson Shaw vs John Pariah & Declan Black
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Post by Jack Owyns on May 17, 2015 22:19:00 GMT
Music blared, and a haze of cigarette smoke lingered in the air. The bar was half full. Drunken people busted a move on the dance floor, and others screamed over the tune ‘GDFR’ by Flo Rida. In the midst of it all, off in the corner, by himself, sat Jack Owyns. His eyes were bloodshot red, most likely intoxicated by alcohol; drugs, too. He pounded back the substance in his glass, most likely whiskey, and, when finished, slammed the glass on the table. Jack Owyns began to shout.
“Declan Black; fuckin’ John Pariah. Let me tell you a story, and no, no, no. Not just any story, a story that, at times, may seem unbelievable but the harsh reality of it. This story, it’s about to become a fuckin’ true story. Yep, yep motherfuckers: May 23, this story comes to life.”
A blond waitress took a seat beside Jack Owyns as she sat her tray down and delivered two more glasses full of whiskey.
Jack Owyns went on, “The story begins, one night. Jack 'The Villain' Owyns: Yeah, yeah, fuck fake names, going with real names for this shit. So yeah, one night, Jack Owyns, after Declan black pinned Grayson Shaw, Jack headed down to the ring. Congratulations was not in order; oh, no — the match was shit, top to bottom. Declan Black defeated the not-ready Grayson Shaw. Hey, Shaw, don’t worry; ole’ Jackie Boy will teach you the winning way. So Jack strolled down to the ring, gave the fans their fuckin’ money's worth, and kicked the shit out of Declan Black.”
Jack took a chug of his drink.
"Then — then — John Pariah came to the rescue. That was a stupid, stupid move, man. He should have minded his own business and stuck to what he was good at — commentary. But even at that — even that — he fuckin’ sucks. Listen to him talk; it's like standing in front of a semi-truck fuckin’ air horn, loud and so damn annoying.”
The blond waitress passed something to Jack underneath the table and then kissed him on the cheek and left.
“John Pariah saved Declan Black from what was needed, and then, you know what this stupid mother fucker did? He challenged Jack Owyns and Grayson Shaw to a tag team match, for this Saturday. Jack Owyns was ecstatic by the news; not only does he get to beat one pussy, Declan Black. Now, he gets to beat two pussies. It couldn’t get any better than that.”
Jack Owyns finished off the drink and grabbed the other drink the blond waitress had brought.
“Then, the best fuckin’ part, people, came that Saturday, when Jack Owyns and Grayson Shaw went to battle with Declan Black and John Pariah, a night that would haunt Black and Pariah for the rest of their meaningless lives.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
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Post by John Pariah on May 18, 2015 2:14:44 GMT
[Its a sunny afternoon and the House Pariah, Lillith is laying out in the sun, and Madison is running around her wooden play set with one of her little friends from school. The sound of a grill firing can be heard-and the sound of searing meat permeates the children laughter. The grill lid closes, and we see John Pariah manning the grill. He see’s the camera and smirks-setting his utensils down.]
Pariah: Hey Lillith, I’ll be back in a second. Madison-be good.
[He walks into the house and sits down. The entrance to his home from the back patio, leads right into a room full of musical gear. A large “Stone The Pariah” banner adorns the wall, he walks out of the room, and through a living room-into his office. He pulls his desk chair out, and looks at his desk. He sits down and picks up a comic book off the desk-thumbing through it before setting it back down.]
Pariah: You know Jack….I read a lot of comic books, and there is something of a common thread between them. The Villains are so egotistical, so full of themselves, so believing their own hype and misguided self worth-that they don’t shut up. Lex Luthor just prattles on and on about his xenophobia. The Joker-just talks in circles about death and destruction. And you-Mr. Owyns…are cut from that very cloth. You prattle on and on and on about your accomplishments. You talk about how you’re going to beat me, how you’re going to beat Declan. I won’t lie to you Jack-you might. I am not taking a single thing from you-or your partner Grayson Shaw. In the ring-you two have a very bright future in 2CW. As people? You’re perfect for each other. I question whose head is further up whose ass.
[He smirks, sitting back in the chair.]
Pariah: Jack-come Saturday, come REDEFINE-it will be our last stop before REvolution. It will be the last night before we go live to the masses, and you get your very well earned title shot. Don’t forget, there is a roadblock standing in your way my friend. A roadblock named John Pariah. A roadblock named the EFed Bullet Club. You’ve fired the first shots? You’ve told a wonderful story, the world of fiction that you have weaved is marvelous at worst. But that’s just it-fiction. Jack in the other room there are 23 World Championships that prove other wise. Dozens of belts and awards that prove that I am what I say I am. The Best in the fucking World. So prepare Jack, prepare for what is about to come. Your fate-at REDEFINE, is mine to decide….
[He chuckles and stands up-walking out of the office as we cut to black]
to be continued…
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Post by Jack Owyns on May 18, 2015 13:50:08 GMT
We picked up where we had last left off. The music was still blaring, but the bar appeared emptier than before. Jack, however, was still sitting in the same place we had left him. There were more empty glasses than before, and the waitress who had served him all night; now joined in.
"Where the fuck was I...Oh right, right the story, the story of Declan and John's demise."
Jack finished off another glass of whiskey, slamming it down abruptly on the table top.
"So then came the night, the night -- What the fuck you watching!?"
Jack turned his attention toward the blonde, yanking the phone from her hands. He restarted the video and watched while slowly drinking, not taking his eyes away.
"What is this?"
"Who cares? Come on, let's leave already."
"Park it; shut it, bitch."
Jack cleared the table with his arm, pushing every glass off the table. The blonde waitress jumped.
"PARIAH! Should of fuckin' figured you'd be the first to open your mouth, yapping those fuckin' gums, spitting a bunch of nothingness all over the airways."
Jack stood up from the table.
"I already fuckin' told you Pariah -- do you even listen, bro? Your championship; awards mean shit all to me. What, you don't think I've won fuckin' loads of championships and awards over my fuckin' 12-year wrestling career? Here is a fuckin' tip I have: you know everything I won back then means shit to me now; it's in the past, and saying it, motherfucker, over and over like a merry-go-fuckin'-round...I've won this, and this; oh, this too, and that -- stroke my fuckin' dick -- and that too. Guess what? Doesn't fuck change it, cuz it's in the past, and we ain't the past, we the present. Now and then is two completely fuckin' different times."
Jack pulled a cigarette pack from his coat pocket.
"Fucking people, think cuz they won all this shit, they the best in the world, HA...HA! Get real man."
Jack was talking to himself as he lit his cigarette.
"You know what? Wanna talk comic book villains and me, ME!? Well here is the thing, Pariah, you don't know shit, man, about me. The villains, those villains you've read about and seen in the Hollywood blockbusters don't even fuckin' touch who I am. I'm here, I'm real, and I'm right in front of you, man, knocking at your doorstep; Knocky fuckin' knocky. Your family, Lilith, the bitch, will cry for you, and Madison, oh, Madison, she will look at you with terror in her eyes because when I'm fuckin' done with you, you'll look like the monster hiding beneath her fuckin' bed; face all deformed."
Jack tossed the cigarette away.
"And let's get one thing straight, I'm not Grayson Shaw. I'm fuckin' more sick and twisted and, all around, a better fuckin' wrestler. There is no length to what I would do, to win or hurt my opponent. Remember that; remember it well."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Post by Grayson Shaw on May 21, 2015 17:35:04 GMT
We fade in on a motorcycle, in a garage. The camera angle widens, and we see Grayson Shaw admiring it.
Its a thing of simplistic beauty, isn’t it? Something so straight forward, something insanely fierce. Something that used the wrong way, can be deadly.
Shaw turns to the camera, and gazes into it.
I’m a very simple man, of very simple tastes. I like loud bikes, loud music, hard whiskey-and hurting people. People have asked me, they’ve said ‘Grayson, why didn’t you come up the right way. Climb the ladder, and await your god-given opprotunity?’ Well, allow me to explain myself. I came to Second City-because I wanted to prove to the world that I am the absolute best-BAR NONE. So yeah, I started small. I let them feed me their enhancement talent-talent like Mikal Drakin and Takeru Ibushi. Hell, Drakin is even a man I offered to take under my wing-until he proved he couldn’t hack it. After a few weeks of that, I heard a washed up has been named John Pariah open his mouth. That’s when I made a choice.
He pauses and smirks, stroking his head.
See, Life? It’s all a series of chocies. Some good, some bad. I made a choice-and decided to point my crosshairs at the big dogs. I haven’t been wrestling for decades like John Pariah. I haven’t wrestled infront of millions like Declan Black-but I’ve been fighting my whole life. Fighting for food, fighting for money, fighting to stay alive-and now, I fight for a prize. You see, I made a choice to go after Pariah and use him as my stepping stone. I broke his spirit-going after his wife, and ensuring Pariah would give me what I want, and that’s a match at REvolution against him. But allow me to back up to this weekend, to REDEFINE, to our tag team match.
He chuckles.
They’re calling it All Out War. Fitting-because thats exactly what it will be. There’s the champion Declan Black, there is his Number One Contender Jack Owyns, there are two of the top names in 2CW in this match, along with the “ICON” himself John Pariah. Then there is me, right? The rookie, the new kid, the man who will destroy John Pariah at REvolution-and than Owyns, Black-I’m coming after you.Pariah says that a demon has awoken in him, and that’s fine-because I control that demon. Jack Owyns? Don’t worry about me. I’ll leave enough od Declan Black for you to finish at REvolution, just remember to stay out of my way-and I’ll show you that none of you…can hang with the devil…
He smirks and sits on the bike, and the scene fades to black
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Post by Jack Owyns on May 21, 2015 19:13:02 GMT
Audio on.
Tick tock, tickie fuckin’ tock! Do you see it? Fuck, do you hear it? The hand on the clock…ticking. Moving closer and closer, until that sound, the sound we all fuckin’ know quite well. A sound two people are dreading hearing tonight – yes, you, Black and Pariah. I’m talking about you two. That sound…DING! Motherfuckers. When the talking stops and the fist cuffs go flying, and I, Jack, unleash the beating of a lifetime on you both. And I show everybody watching the true fuckin’ force of Owyns.
I’d start with you Pariah, locking up in the center of the ring, and after an eye gouge – but that’s fuckin’ cheating Jack, eye gouge. And I’d be like, fuckin’ VILLAIN HERE! Yeah, but anyways…eye gouge. Then I’d take my two hands and grab your skull to keep steady and proceed to drive the hardest part of my skull into your face, over and over…CRACK! Then, I’d drag your body, your bloody body, to your corner and, with assistance, grab your wrist and smack Declan right across the face.
Then, THEN! What the entire fan base of 2CW has been waiting for, screaming for…Declan Black and Jack Owyns finally face off one on one in the ring. They are screaming, chanting for this to go down. So I raise my fist, ready to pounce on my prey, but at the sight of my fist, Declan’s skin goes white, his entire body trembles, and the smell of shit haunts my nostrils and those of the people at the ringside. Everybody knows Declan just shit himself in fear. He falls on the canvas, just wanting it all to be over. PIN ME, END ME! Declan cries like a little bitch.
I barely touch him — the smell is too fuckin’ rank – I’m trying to plug my nose, but it just isn’t doing the job. I manage to pin him with the heel of my boot: one, two; THREE!
HA!
But shit, let’s be serious now. I’m coming to the ring tonight; I'm bringing a fuckin’ war with me. No holding back, 'cause with every war I wage inside the ring, I give it everything. I fight like it may be my last; I fight like it's life or death. Pariah, Black, you won’t stop me, maybe be an obstacle, but that won’t last 'cause I will figure you out. Truthfully, I already have, and I will defeat you. Pariah, you're fuckin' old news in this new age of 2CW. The clock has already ended for you, punched fuckin’ out. Declan, your clock is still ticking, but only a faint ticking, 'cause you still have one more week to go before I put the nail in the coffin.
Shaw, consider tonight a learning lesson. I’ll show you what a champion really is and why you’re not even fuckin’ close to it. Partner.
Audio off.
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Post by John Pariah on May 21, 2015 19:54:09 GMT
[The sounds of bodies hitting the mat can be heard as the camera turns on. We see Declan Black in the ring, delivering a training seminar to students at the ICONIC Academy in Chicago. The angle zooms back, to one of the other rings, where John Pariah is standing-watching everything unfold. He leans on the ropes and lets out a chuckle.]
PARIAH: You see, at REDEFINE, there’s going to be a war.My friends, you can do whatever you feel is nessecary. Grayson Shaw-you can fix all the bikes in the world. Jack Owyns-you can spend as much time in a jail cell as you need-because none of it is the proper preparation. This right here? This is what works. This is what is needed.
[Pariah looks down at the 2CW Championship sitting on the ring apron, as well as his own ICONIC Championship. He smiles and looks to the camera.]
PARIAH: Grayson Shaw says is the devil-and the devil controls all demons. That’s funny Grayson, because I’ve looked the devil in the face. I saw the devil in the eyes on John Ojeda-when he kidnapped my daughter. I saw the devil standing in the shadows as I gazed down a dark hospital hallway-when my wife had a miscarriage with our son. I fought the devil last year at Cardinal Sin-when Michael Norcia came to Second City Wrestling for my head. Mr. Shaw, my friend-if you are the devil-than can me John Constantine-because I will hold the exorcism you so greatly need.
[He smirks-letting out a sigh.]]
PARIAH: Then, there’s Jack Owyns. Jack..fucking..Owyns. The guy whose going to head butt me to death. Right? Look, that tattoo ink must be seeping into your blood stream and effecting your brain Jack. Or was it all the prison rape? Who knows really. What I do know is this. It will be bloody, it will be violent-that’s a guarantee. it will be hard hitting, and the strikes will be felt around the world. The only thing though-that will be hitting your face-is my elbow when I give you a nice, healthy dose of Mirakuru. That’s more than a promise Jack-it’s fate.
[He pauses and smiles, stepping off the ring apron and grabbing the belts-as he sees his students clearing out of the other ring. He slides in and hands Declan Black the 2CW Championship-and he slings it over his shoulder as Pariah holds up his ICONIC Championship. The two look in the camera and Pariah smirks.]
PARIAH: This my friends…is Declan Black. He is the 2CW Champion. My name, is John Pariah-and I am ICONIC. Together, the fate of Jack Owyns and Grayson Shaw are ours to decide…
DECLAN BLACK: ...And trust me boys-everything we do is just…too…sweet..
[The two make guns with their hands-and smirk as we fade to black]
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Post by declanblack on May 22, 2015 3:24:24 GMT
-The following is a blog post from DeclanBlack.com, made on May 20th, 2015.-
Being 2CW Heavyweight Champion is a full time job. I mean, it's not just show up, shine up the belt, wrestle, and leave. There's a lot of responsibility in being the champion, the face of the company. There's a lot of responsibility in being the face of a Tribune subsidiary. I mean, any given day, I could be on the WGN morning show, go talk to a high school, talk to my business partners about my new acquisition, host a lunch for charity, go roll at a local wrestling school, then come to the show, sit, cut my promo, shine my belt, go wrestle a match that probably wasn't the one I signed up for, win, then finish the night at some charity event.
I'm not saying this to complain. I love my job, I love Chicago. I love being an employee of 2CW and of Tribune. I love giving back to the fans. But it isn't the fun and games that a lot of people think it is. It's a job, no more, no less. Good job. Enjoyable job. But a job, nevertheless. And in the context of a job, there's not really much opportunity for fun.
But this week, this week is different. Not because I won't have my responsibilities-I will, no doubt. Not because it won't still be a job, being champion-because no doubt, it will. And not because it's gonna end-because it won't anytime soon, at least not till REvolution: Owyns vs. Black. I'm happy because for the first time in a long while, I get to have some fun.
#EFEDBulletClub was never some totalitarian plot to take over wrestling. It was never some faction, with an elitist power structure that would inevitably topple. And it never will be. It's a bunch of good friends, talented people who thrived and thrive on being the best professional wrestlers they could possibly be. Among them, Declan Black and John Pariah probably fared the best, as we continue to. Both world title holders in multiple promotions, both reasonably well respected in our midst. I'd be lying if I didn't say that part of the appeal of signing with 2CW was that I got to hang with my good buddy and his wonderful family.
I haven't gotten to do that quite so much as I wanted to, primarily because I won the 2CW Heavyweight Championship faster than I ever thought I would. But Thursday night, I finally get to do just that. I get to throw back a few, wrestle, and kick back with one of my best friends. Will we win? Will we lose? I don't know. Either is possible, Jack Owyns and Grayson Shaw are great opponents. But I feel like I've belabored that point over the last few weeks.
Thursday, I get a few hours off from responsibilities. And that makes me happier than I've been in a while.
See you there.
-DB
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