Post by Kaden Kessler on Jan 16, 2020 3:20:33 GMT -5
OOC NOTE: So first off, huge shout out to Britney, Tony, Matt & Jess for trying your best to keep this going. But people started to leave for whatever reasons and some reasons I know of. It's mentally frustrating to me that no matter how hard we all try it's the same people. I believe you all are the only ones left and it's not fair to pit you against each other week after week or bi weekly. I had huge hopes and plans for Premier, Nex-Gen and Knockouts but no one wanted to give the site a chance and that's my fault. I failed each of you and I do apologize from the bottom of my heart.
I've been sitting here for the last sit hours how I would apologize to each of you for letting you down as a fed head, a fellow rper and to some a friend. This was my last hurrah in running a fed and more than likely role playing in a fed. You each are amazing fucking role players and you deserve the best from a fed head and that's not me. My mental capacity is just isn't there as I've seen each of you try to recruit and bust your ass on twitter as well as sending in segments for each show. We started off amazing and maybe it was the way I was promoting or maybe i was the way I wanted to be different with results. I dunno but I failed and I take full blame in that.
So with that being said, I am sorry but the run is over for me as I said above. Long with probably efedding in general. Brit your friendship has always been amazing to me and special, Jess you know where we stand, Tony you're an amazing role player and love reading your work from day one. Matt, it's been a true honor to see you do the work that you do. I'm sorry we didn't meet earlier when I was running Honor back in the day. So none o you be a stranger and if you ever need anything just ask, I'll be there to help..
Thank you again...
Lillian Cane defeats Shawn Hunter
Neveah Moore defeats Brandon Mercer
Tony Savage Segment
Everything is pitch black in the MGM Grand. The lights are completely off for what is only a few moments, but feels like hours. People are stumbling around and confused, using anything they can get their hands on to provide some illumination;smart phones, cameras, cigarette lighters. Considering Vegas is a weed legal town, there are a lot of lighters being flicked on.
Along with many joint and blunt cherries lighting up the darkness, sneaky stoner bastards!
Some fans seated close to the ring do notice a shade moving around in the ring, but they can’t determine who or what it it, until a single spotlight is pouring bright, white, and very hot light down to the ring slightly left center.
There’s a stool planted in that spot. Seated on said stool, is a man with taped fists, blue jeans, and a black hoodie, with his head hanging down. When his neck tilts up, and the face is exposed, the fans cheer.
*Insert picture here*
Tony: This was the gear I wore over 2 years ago when I started in Premiere. Back then, I was a whole ‘nother animal. Left one place I spent years successful in,and I was homeless.
Not in the literal sense, oh God no, don’t matter in or out of a ring, I always get paid.
He grins as he flashes a Rolex on his right wrist;that searing illumination creating a blinding spectacle of sparkles and bright spots. He puts his hand back down, and the smile turns upside down.
Tony: In the wrestling sense, I was a total nomad. Bouncing around, trying to figure out the next move, the next feeding grounds. In all fairness at the time, I didn’t expect that Premiere would pan out;way my luck was going at the time, it would be just another failed experiment in my career.
After a nice stretch of making long money and having it good, I was needing to find shelter again. For a lot of people, that’s a humbling and shitty experience, and to be honest, it had had me feeling like fucking trash.
For a moment.
Then I let that frustration and grumbling in my gut take over once taping started, and everything changed. It felt good again, felt real. I let hunger take the wheel, and months later, I laid a path of destruction in my wake.
He stands up, moving the stool back a bit so he has some room to pace. That spot light tracks him every step back and forth.
Tony: International title run, The World belt. I was taking down men and women who were world champions in other places. Hell, I flat out ran some motherfuckers off…
In retrospect, not proud of that. With the exception of a few bad apples, I never enjoyed hurting somebody’s ability to make money in the biz. But being hungry does things to you, puts you in a survivalist state of mind. Sorry about that, but, there’s only enough for one of us to eat, and I’m not going home with empty pockets and a rumbling stomach.
I operated like what I did wasn’t quite good enough, that one more tweak in my game was needed. I’m not training quite right. Nothing, as well as it was working, quite cut it for me. It worked out so well. I just didn’t become the face of Premiere, I was the foundation. Not only did I find a home, I helped build it. No feeling like that in the world.
Flash forward a few year later…
Came back with a whole different mentality. Slick suits, fancy trinkets, and a whole lotta hype swirling around the man with the best resume in the company’s history coming back to do it again. I bought that hype. Let a full wallet and stomach make me comfortable. A hot start didn’t help matters, either.
No grime, I didn’t take a hard look at what was also in the place with me.
A deranged activist who was trying to run people out of the building, hell, the sport, making life miserable for everybody from the janitor to the management team. Good God, that woman went out of her way to try to get me to leave or kicked out because I was the “wrong” gender and skin color. Britt comes out of nowhere and Pearl Harbors me. Straight up ambush.
He laughs, shaking his head.
Tony: My wife had a chuckle about it. Course she did. She’s married to me; I don’t blame her sometimes for wanting to see me get hurt.
Pretty much anybody in the crowd in a relationship laughs at that.
Tony: She also said that’s what I needed, because I was, in her words…
“Acting like some entitled wanker who forgot what the bloody fuck got him there in the first place!”
He says this in a falsetto posh British accent, and he half smirks and grimace. His wife HATES it when he makes fun of the way she acts and talks.
Tony: She was right, though. Just like this spotlight, that junk punt exposed some shit. Brought it out into the light.
It also brought out something dark and nasty I’ve been missing so dearly. That thing that turns laughing princesses into wheezing shits thinking they’re gonna die in the ring.That crushes people in the ring in record times week in and week out.
The type of thing that’ll make motor-mouth Matt and his billion goofy ass monikers wish he never opened his maw in the first place, let alone, dare people to shut them up.
Hey, can’t knock a guy that’s found a way to turn his most obnoxious aspect/bodily function to make some loot. People willing to shell out dough to try to keep his dick-holster sealed, get paid. Me…
I’ve already pledged enough dough during the holidays to people with dysfunctions; I’m not about to help him keep up that look he’s rocking; strip club D.J. that sells fake cocaine to tourists!
People start laughing. Even Tony cracks up a bit.
Seriously, check out the booths at the gentlemen’s clubs around here; you’d swear his brothers and cousins were spinning records during pole dances for side cash. Goofy, gum flapping, Nuck jackass…
He doesn’t suck at his job, though. Don’t expect another squash that takes less time than it takes to brew coffee. He does have that International strap, and unlike Princess Anorexia,who stamps her feet and gripes about it all the time, he does have a world championship resume.
He’s also gotten complacent, though. That trait Britt had…
Until the wizard of Oz gave her a heart punch! Now she’s been real polite on the twitter to me.
But they’re making the same mistake I made when I came back; complacency. They’re running around thinking they’re just going to coast through this. I see that hunger leaving their systems.
Me; my stomach’s rumbling again. Famine’s starting to set in, despite still doing well.
As he paces back and forth, he’s thinking what to say next. That’s when he scans the arena, seeing his face amongst others on a banner hanging from a banner. He smiles briefly, then that pretty face of his scrunches in anger.
Tony: I’ve had people since I returned go out of their way to make me feel unwelcome in a place I helped build with my blood, sweat, and pain. Sucker punches, smear campaigns and social media harassment, even going so far as to bleed their beefs with me into ventures outside the ropes. Oh, have they gone out of their way to push me aside. But here I am, one step away from another shot at the big belt, and moments away from hurting Matt so bad, shutting up won’t be an option, because I’ll hurt him so bad, all he’ll do is gripe and cry about it.
Five minutes, five hours, five days. Don’t matter how long it takes. After all the fucking bullshit I’ve been through since coming back, I sure as FUCK not gonna let it all be in vain and step back again.I’m tired of motherfuckers dictating to me what I can and can’t do in my goddamn house. I’m fed up with prisses in tiaras using my goddamn name to fatten their resume…
Sick of people trying to shove me out of my way to a decent meal.
So tonight, fight night, Matt’s the next dinner course. His obnoxious banter and stupid challenge, not my concern. What my concern is, what’s he going to do when a swarm of locusts comes down on him? Merciless, single purposed, and eating everything in its path.
He’s in my way to making Premiere history, from making the score between me and Britt even…
He’s just in the goddamn way, and it doesn’t matter how good you are, you block my feast…
The mic is pocketed, and Tony brings his punching hand down on the stool, shattering it into splinters. A shard of wood protrudes from his finger. He smiles, licking the blood the trickles from the cut.
Tony; Sorry I wasn’t myself when I first came back; too fat and happy. That’s not the guy I am.
Sometimes, you’re you when you’re hungry!
Along with many joint and blunt cherries lighting up the darkness, sneaky stoner bastards!
Some fans seated close to the ring do notice a shade moving around in the ring, but they can’t determine who or what it it, until a single spotlight is pouring bright, white, and very hot light down to the ring slightly left center.
There’s a stool planted in that spot. Seated on said stool, is a man with taped fists, blue jeans, and a black hoodie, with his head hanging down. When his neck tilts up, and the face is exposed, the fans cheer.
*Insert picture here*
Tony: This was the gear I wore over 2 years ago when I started in Premiere. Back then, I was a whole ‘nother animal. Left one place I spent years successful in,and I was homeless.
Not in the literal sense, oh God no, don’t matter in or out of a ring, I always get paid.
He grins as he flashes a Rolex on his right wrist;that searing illumination creating a blinding spectacle of sparkles and bright spots. He puts his hand back down, and the smile turns upside down.
Tony: In the wrestling sense, I was a total nomad. Bouncing around, trying to figure out the next move, the next feeding grounds. In all fairness at the time, I didn’t expect that Premiere would pan out;way my luck was going at the time, it would be just another failed experiment in my career.
After a nice stretch of making long money and having it good, I was needing to find shelter again. For a lot of people, that’s a humbling and shitty experience, and to be honest, it had had me feeling like fucking trash.
For a moment.
Then I let that frustration and grumbling in my gut take over once taping started, and everything changed. It felt good again, felt real. I let hunger take the wheel, and months later, I laid a path of destruction in my wake.
He stands up, moving the stool back a bit so he has some room to pace. That spot light tracks him every step back and forth.
Tony: International title run, The World belt. I was taking down men and women who were world champions in other places. Hell, I flat out ran some motherfuckers off…
In retrospect, not proud of that. With the exception of a few bad apples, I never enjoyed hurting somebody’s ability to make money in the biz. But being hungry does things to you, puts you in a survivalist state of mind. Sorry about that, but, there’s only enough for one of us to eat, and I’m not going home with empty pockets and a rumbling stomach.
I operated like what I did wasn’t quite good enough, that one more tweak in my game was needed. I’m not training quite right. Nothing, as well as it was working, quite cut it for me. It worked out so well. I just didn’t become the face of Premiere, I was the foundation. Not only did I find a home, I helped build it. No feeling like that in the world.
Flash forward a few year later…
Came back with a whole different mentality. Slick suits, fancy trinkets, and a whole lotta hype swirling around the man with the best resume in the company’s history coming back to do it again. I bought that hype. Let a full wallet and stomach make me comfortable. A hot start didn’t help matters, either.
No grime, I didn’t take a hard look at what was also in the place with me.
A deranged activist who was trying to run people out of the building, hell, the sport, making life miserable for everybody from the janitor to the management team. Good God, that woman went out of her way to try to get me to leave or kicked out because I was the “wrong” gender and skin color. Britt comes out of nowhere and Pearl Harbors me. Straight up ambush.
He laughs, shaking his head.
Tony: My wife had a chuckle about it. Course she did. She’s married to me; I don’t blame her sometimes for wanting to see me get hurt.
Pretty much anybody in the crowd in a relationship laughs at that.
Tony: She also said that’s what I needed, because I was, in her words…
“Acting like some entitled wanker who forgot what the bloody fuck got him there in the first place!”
He says this in a falsetto posh British accent, and he half smirks and grimace. His wife HATES it when he makes fun of the way she acts and talks.
Tony: She was right, though. Just like this spotlight, that junk punt exposed some shit. Brought it out into the light.
It also brought out something dark and nasty I’ve been missing so dearly. That thing that turns laughing princesses into wheezing shits thinking they’re gonna die in the ring.That crushes people in the ring in record times week in and week out.
The type of thing that’ll make motor-mouth Matt and his billion goofy ass monikers wish he never opened his maw in the first place, let alone, dare people to shut them up.
Hey, can’t knock a guy that’s found a way to turn his most obnoxious aspect/bodily function to make some loot. People willing to shell out dough to try to keep his dick-holster sealed, get paid. Me…
I’ve already pledged enough dough during the holidays to people with dysfunctions; I’m not about to help him keep up that look he’s rocking; strip club D.J. that sells fake cocaine to tourists!
People start laughing. Even Tony cracks up a bit.
Seriously, check out the booths at the gentlemen’s clubs around here; you’d swear his brothers and cousins were spinning records during pole dances for side cash. Goofy, gum flapping, Nuck jackass…
He doesn’t suck at his job, though. Don’t expect another squash that takes less time than it takes to brew coffee. He does have that International strap, and unlike Princess Anorexia,who stamps her feet and gripes about it all the time, he does have a world championship resume.
He’s also gotten complacent, though. That trait Britt had…
Until the wizard of Oz gave her a heart punch! Now she’s been real polite on the twitter to me.
But they’re making the same mistake I made when I came back; complacency. They’re running around thinking they’re just going to coast through this. I see that hunger leaving their systems.
Me; my stomach’s rumbling again. Famine’s starting to set in, despite still doing well.
As he paces back and forth, he’s thinking what to say next. That’s when he scans the arena, seeing his face amongst others on a banner hanging from a banner. He smiles briefly, then that pretty face of his scrunches in anger.
Tony: I’ve had people since I returned go out of their way to make me feel unwelcome in a place I helped build with my blood, sweat, and pain. Sucker punches, smear campaigns and social media harassment, even going so far as to bleed their beefs with me into ventures outside the ropes. Oh, have they gone out of their way to push me aside. But here I am, one step away from another shot at the big belt, and moments away from hurting Matt so bad, shutting up won’t be an option, because I’ll hurt him so bad, all he’ll do is gripe and cry about it.
Five minutes, five hours, five days. Don’t matter how long it takes. After all the fucking bullshit I’ve been through since coming back, I sure as FUCK not gonna let it all be in vain and step back again.I’m tired of motherfuckers dictating to me what I can and can’t do in my goddamn house. I’m fed up with prisses in tiaras using my goddamn name to fatten their resume…
Sick of people trying to shove me out of my way to a decent meal.
So tonight, fight night, Matt’s the next dinner course. His obnoxious banter and stupid challenge, not my concern. What my concern is, what’s he going to do when a swarm of locusts comes down on him? Merciless, single purposed, and eating everything in its path.
He’s in my way to making Premiere history, from making the score between me and Britt even…
He’s just in the goddamn way, and it doesn’t matter how good you are, you block my feast…
The mic is pocketed, and Tony brings his punching hand down on the stool, shattering it into splinters. A shard of wood protrudes from his finger. He smiles, licking the blood the trickles from the cut.
Tony; Sorry I wasn’t myself when I first came back; too fat and happy. That’s not the guy I am.
Sometimes, you’re you when you’re hungry!
Amaya Storme defeats Brady Vega
Britney Anders Segment
Britney Anders: The definition of a CLOUT CHASER is as follows. A person that only hangs with certain people or starts beef with people to gain popularity.
Britney looks directly into the camera with a confused look on her face.
Britney Anders: So my opponent tonight, little Miss Ryanne already admitted that she started issues with me because of my popularity. That isn't the part that has me confused, the confusing part is the execution of that entire little plan. What has happened since then, Ryanne? Have you gained popularity? Have you been extremely successful? Have you set yourself up on a path for stardom? The answer to all of those questions is no. If anything, you set yourself up for a path of failure. Look at tonight for example. You have the chance to qualify for a championship match, the right to compete to crown a new champion in Premier's reboot, and who do you have to face? The undeniably hottest talent in all of Premier, I'm talking about the Premier Princess herself, Miss Main Event...ME.
Ever proud of herself, Anders smirks.
Britney Anders: I honestly don't think you would have much luck against the other two fighting for a chance at gold either, one is already a champion, and the other is the former champion of this company, so lets face it..you're the odd ducky here. As much as you wanted clout, or to be the popular girl, you're still the outcast sitting at the table in the corner getting laughed at, while I'm not only the head cheerleader, but I'm the academic success, and the teacher's favorite, the teacher in this little scenario being the fans. Face it Ryanne, everyone has rejected you and your little attempt to fit in, and all your left with is yourself, your failure, and wondering if you would have done things differently if maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't find yourself here right now. Maybe you could have even been sitting at my table.
Britney raises a finger to the camera and wags it.
Britney Anders: After tonight, I will be competing against either Tony Savage or Matt Stone in the finals to crown a champion, and I really have no preference. I know both have the ability to lead this company...straight to the dumps.
Laughing sarcastically, she protests.
Britney Anders: Okay really they would be decent champions, they have talent, but they aren't me. Nobody has had more main events and NOBODY has a better win-loss record than I do, so after I defeat Ryanne tonight, Matt, Tony, whichever of you two boys has the balls to stand across from me? Protect them, because I'm doing whatever it takes to walk out as champion. Now get the hell out of my locker room.
She points towards the door, as she's preparing to get ready for her main event match later in the evening against Ryanne.
Britney Anders: The definition of a CLOUT CHASER is as follows. A person that only hangs with certain people or starts beef with people to gain popularity.
Britney looks directly into the camera with a confused look on her face.
Britney Anders: So my opponent tonight, little Miss Ryanne already admitted that she started issues with me because of my popularity. That isn't the part that has me confused, the confusing part is the execution of that entire little plan. What has happened since then, Ryanne? Have you gained popularity? Have you been extremely successful? Have you set yourself up on a path for stardom? The answer to all of those questions is no. If anything, you set yourself up for a path of failure. Look at tonight for example. You have the chance to qualify for a championship match, the right to compete to crown a new champion in Premier's reboot, and who do you have to face? The undeniably hottest talent in all of Premier, I'm talking about the Premier Princess herself, Miss Main Event...ME.
Ever proud of herself, Anders smirks.
Britney Anders: I honestly don't think you would have much luck against the other two fighting for a chance at gold either, one is already a champion, and the other is the former champion of this company, so lets face it..you're the odd ducky here. As much as you wanted clout, or to be the popular girl, you're still the outcast sitting at the table in the corner getting laughed at, while I'm not only the head cheerleader, but I'm the academic success, and the teacher's favorite, the teacher in this little scenario being the fans. Face it Ryanne, everyone has rejected you and your little attempt to fit in, and all your left with is yourself, your failure, and wondering if you would have done things differently if maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't find yourself here right now. Maybe you could have even been sitting at my table.
Britney raises a finger to the camera and wags it.
Britney Anders: After tonight, I will be competing against either Tony Savage or Matt Stone in the finals to crown a champion, and I really have no preference. I know both have the ability to lead this company...straight to the dumps.
Laughing sarcastically, she protests.
Britney Anders: Okay really they would be decent champions, they have talent, but they aren't me. Nobody has had more main events and NOBODY has a better win-loss record than I do, so after I defeat Ryanne tonight, Matt, Tony, whichever of you two boys has the balls to stand across from me? Protect them, because I'm doing whatever it takes to walk out as champion. Now get the hell out of my locker room.
She points towards the door, as she's preparing to get ready for her main event match later in the evening against Ryanne.
Matt Stone defeats Tony Savage
Britney Anders defeats Ryanne Stone