Post by matt on Feb 4, 2020 16:18:32 GMT -6
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January 26th, 2020
Chicago, Illinois
Off Camera
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He could feel the eyes of everyone upon him, judging him, as if he had made a mistake. He could feel the eyes of those backstage at the United Center here in Chicago, Illinois questioning his judgment, as if he were to blame for his team’s loss. “The Assassin” Clyde Sutter knows better. Sutter knows that despite their looks and their judgment that he is not to blame. No, he did not lose this Trios Buy In opportunity; he places the blame entirely upon the shoulders of his teammates; Konrad Raab, Aaron Blackbourne, and Owen Cruze…
...but especially Konrad. The old fucker got beat. He was the who got pinned. Konrad’s utter incompetence cost Clyde Sutter a golden opportunity that may never come his way again. Now the next stage of Trios is coming, the draft, one of which will be the choice of the winning team captains and the other being a random drawing. Either way, The Assassin must rely on luck and luck alone to get placed on a Trios team. He doesn’t expect to be chosen by any of the team captains, because they are idiots.
Dumb fucks, the lot of them! They do not have vision! They do not have imagination and most importantly none of the eight captains has the balls to do what is necessary to win. None of them will willingly pick him. They will pick their best friends. Their buddies. And then he will have to rely on the random draw. Needless to say, “The Assassin” is not happy about this turn of events…
“MASON!”
No, he is not happy one bit. His angry gait, the way he storms angrily through the backstage area of the United Center tells of the story of a rampaging monster looking for his prey. Sutter can feel the judgmental eyes upon him but he does his best to ignore them. They are unimportant and irrelevant to him. He only wants to see Mason, to take his anger and frustrations out upon Mason Van Stanton. Someone must pay and he can’t seem to find any of his stupid tag team partners from earlier in the night, so Van Stanton will have to do.
“Where the fuck did you go, Mason?!” The Assassin shouts angrily at the top of his lungs, hoping to get his agent’s attention, wherever he may be lurking. He pauses to give Van Stanton time to respond but after hearing nothing he shouts again, louder this time. “Mason!”
“Looking for someone, mate?”
That voice is familiar but it isn’t Mason’s. This beautiful feminine voice is unmistakable. A smirk forms upon Sutter’s lips. He was not expecting this particular visitor, someone who had been attempting to avoid him for a long time now. Was it cowardice? Fear? Doesn’t matter. Now Glory Braddock sits on a stool still in her wrestling gear, watching with a smug smirk on her lovely face. She seems confident enough to harass him now. Taking his anger out on her may be even better than taking it out on Van Stanton.
“What ya want, bitch?” Sutter snarls angrily as he marches closer to the blonde bombshell. Glory just chuckles and shakes her head.
“Things didn’t go the way you had hoped, did they?”
“What’s it to ya?! I held my own! I did my job!”
“So it was everyone else’s fault then?” Braddock asks, arching her brow out of curiosity. Sutter snidely smirks and nods his head.
“Now yer getting it!”
“Bloody hell you’re thick…” Braddock’s voice trails off.
“Wanna repeat that, bitch?!” Sutter is smirking no more. He is angry yet again, as evidenced by his scowl. Glory hops up off of the stool and approaches Sutter. Neither backs down. They glare at one another.
“Take it from someone who has actually WON a Trios Tournament, you win these bloody things as a team and you lose them as a team.”
“I get that! But what you don’t seem to get is that my TEAM fucking sucked!”
“Oh really? And you were so great, is that it?”
“Yeah...that’s right…”
The British Bombshell shakes her head in disbelief. “Bloody hell, Clyde. Your team had some great talent...well, most of your team had great talent, including you...you have a ton of untapped potential and trust me, I know. You were a part of my school, so I know. What you lack…”
She reaches out and touches his forehead “...is right up here.”
“Huh?” Sutter asks curiously, seemingly lost on what Glory is implying. She rolls her eyes.
“You are dense. You are an idiot. You do not think things through, strategize, or make any plans of any sort. You just go out there and your plan is to beat people up but you do not have any plans on HOW to beat people up.”
“The fuck are you talking about?!” The Assassin exclaims angrily. “There is no thought required! You just go out there and kick their fucking heads in!”
Braddock smirks knowingly. “And that right there, Clyde, is why you lost. You cannot just march into that ring and fight without a plan. You need a plan, you need a strategy, you need...”
“Blah, blah, blah…” Sutter rolls his eyes “...that’s the same boring shit Sophie kept spewing.”
Sophie was once the head trainer of The Braddock Wrestling School. Sophie still does assist in training the students but on a part-time basis. Sophie was the head trainer when Clyde Sutter was at the school. Sophie is also Glory Braddock’s best friend.
“It isn’t bullshit, it is the truth. You can’t win without a proper strategy.” Braddock pauses but then shrugs her shoulders. “But what do I care? Go ahead and screw up your career. Ruin it and send it to hell, not in a blaze of glory but with a whimper. People like you do not belong in this sport.”
That statement, about how Sutter does not belong in this sport, is not arrogant in the same way she has said it to others. This is more vile, more personal. The Assassin can sense this and while it does set him off he decides to pay her back by pushing the buttons of The British Bombshell. And Sutter knows just exactly what buttons to push.
“Awww, I’m hurt. You’re not still sore about how me and your daughter split, are ya?” He sneers, knowing that bringing this situation up will trigger Braddock’s anger. Sure enough, it does, as her eyes light up with rage.
“Do not talk about my daughter you piece of garbage!”
“Women. Ya’ll are nothing but a good lay. Objects.” He chuckles lightly but then shakes his head. “Not Melinda, she was more. Ya raised her well, Glory. We coulda took on the world and kicked its ass, her and I. But she has too much of your bullshit running through her veins. But don’t worry…”
The Assassin winks “...Melinda was damn fine in bed. Gives great blows.”
If Sutter wants to enrage Glory, to push her buttons, then he did just that. Instead of slapping the taste out of his mouth, The British Bombshell balls up her fist and blasts him in the jaw with a right cross. This staggers the bigger man backward. Braddock braces herself for an onslaught but Sutter just chuckles nastily as he rubs his jaw.
“Nice right hand ya got there.”
“I should have you arrested you piece of shit!” Glory exclaims angrily.
“But ya can’t! Because you know just as well as I do that everything Melinda and I did was consensual.”
“Says you. I think she’s just afraid to testify. Afraid to come forward.”
“How the fuck is she afraid to come forward against me?” Sutter asks with a snicker, looking somewhat astonished. “No one likes me, Glory. If I fell off the face of the earth not a damn soul would miss me. She would be perfectly safe testifying against me with the lies you’re spewing. Unless…”
The Assassin’s voice trails off, then a smirk forms upon his face as he begins to realize the truth of the matter “...Melinda has confirmed that everything we did together we consensual, didn’t she?”
Glory glares angrily. If looks could kill, The Assassin would be dead. Still, The British Bombshell doesn’t say a word. Sutter finally remarks. “I thought so.”
“Gloat all you want, mate, but understand that I will not rest until you are right where you belong; in a cage, like the animal that you are, and not out there in MY wrestling ring! The evidence will be there, even if I have to make it up!”
“Tell Melinda I said hello…” Sutter remarks with a wink.
“Go to hell!” Glory snarls as she turns and storms away angrily. The Assassin is pleased. He may not have won his Trios Buy In tonight but at least he enjoyed this interaction with his old mentor Glory Braddock. He pushed all of the right buttons, pissed her off, and now she’s running away. It feels good to intimidate a legend.
Legend. Pffft…
January 26th, 2020
Chicago, Illinois
Off Camera
==========
He could feel the eyes of everyone upon him, judging him, as if he had made a mistake. He could feel the eyes of those backstage at the United Center here in Chicago, Illinois questioning his judgment, as if he were to blame for his team’s loss. “The Assassin” Clyde Sutter knows better. Sutter knows that despite their looks and their judgment that he is not to blame. No, he did not lose this Trios Buy In opportunity; he places the blame entirely upon the shoulders of his teammates; Konrad Raab, Aaron Blackbourne, and Owen Cruze…
...but especially Konrad. The old fucker got beat. He was the who got pinned. Konrad’s utter incompetence cost Clyde Sutter a golden opportunity that may never come his way again. Now the next stage of Trios is coming, the draft, one of which will be the choice of the winning team captains and the other being a random drawing. Either way, The Assassin must rely on luck and luck alone to get placed on a Trios team. He doesn’t expect to be chosen by any of the team captains, because they are idiots.
Dumb fucks, the lot of them! They do not have vision! They do not have imagination and most importantly none of the eight captains has the balls to do what is necessary to win. None of them will willingly pick him. They will pick their best friends. Their buddies. And then he will have to rely on the random draw. Needless to say, “The Assassin” is not happy about this turn of events…
“MASON!”
No, he is not happy one bit. His angry gait, the way he storms angrily through the backstage area of the United Center tells of the story of a rampaging monster looking for his prey. Sutter can feel the judgmental eyes upon him but he does his best to ignore them. They are unimportant and irrelevant to him. He only wants to see Mason, to take his anger and frustrations out upon Mason Van Stanton. Someone must pay and he can’t seem to find any of his stupid tag team partners from earlier in the night, so Van Stanton will have to do.
“Where the fuck did you go, Mason?!” The Assassin shouts angrily at the top of his lungs, hoping to get his agent’s attention, wherever he may be lurking. He pauses to give Van Stanton time to respond but after hearing nothing he shouts again, louder this time. “Mason!”
“Looking for someone, mate?”
That voice is familiar but it isn’t Mason’s. This beautiful feminine voice is unmistakable. A smirk forms upon Sutter’s lips. He was not expecting this particular visitor, someone who had been attempting to avoid him for a long time now. Was it cowardice? Fear? Doesn’t matter. Now Glory Braddock sits on a stool still in her wrestling gear, watching with a smug smirk on her lovely face. She seems confident enough to harass him now. Taking his anger out on her may be even better than taking it out on Van Stanton.
“What ya want, bitch?” Sutter snarls angrily as he marches closer to the blonde bombshell. Glory just chuckles and shakes her head.
“Things didn’t go the way you had hoped, did they?”
“What’s it to ya?! I held my own! I did my job!”
“So it was everyone else’s fault then?” Braddock asks, arching her brow out of curiosity. Sutter snidely smirks and nods his head.
“Now yer getting it!”
“Bloody hell you’re thick…” Braddock’s voice trails off.
“Wanna repeat that, bitch?!” Sutter is smirking no more. He is angry yet again, as evidenced by his scowl. Glory hops up off of the stool and approaches Sutter. Neither backs down. They glare at one another.
“Take it from someone who has actually WON a Trios Tournament, you win these bloody things as a team and you lose them as a team.”
“I get that! But what you don’t seem to get is that my TEAM fucking sucked!”
“Oh really? And you were so great, is that it?”
“Yeah...that’s right…”
The British Bombshell shakes her head in disbelief. “Bloody hell, Clyde. Your team had some great talent...well, most of your team had great talent, including you...you have a ton of untapped potential and trust me, I know. You were a part of my school, so I know. What you lack…”
She reaches out and touches his forehead “...is right up here.”
“Huh?” Sutter asks curiously, seemingly lost on what Glory is implying. She rolls her eyes.
“You are dense. You are an idiot. You do not think things through, strategize, or make any plans of any sort. You just go out there and your plan is to beat people up but you do not have any plans on HOW to beat people up.”
“The fuck are you talking about?!” The Assassin exclaims angrily. “There is no thought required! You just go out there and kick their fucking heads in!”
Braddock smirks knowingly. “And that right there, Clyde, is why you lost. You cannot just march into that ring and fight without a plan. You need a plan, you need a strategy, you need...”
“Blah, blah, blah…” Sutter rolls his eyes “...that’s the same boring shit Sophie kept spewing.”
Sophie was once the head trainer of The Braddock Wrestling School. Sophie still does assist in training the students but on a part-time basis. Sophie was the head trainer when Clyde Sutter was at the school. Sophie is also Glory Braddock’s best friend.
“It isn’t bullshit, it is the truth. You can’t win without a proper strategy.” Braddock pauses but then shrugs her shoulders. “But what do I care? Go ahead and screw up your career. Ruin it and send it to hell, not in a blaze of glory but with a whimper. People like you do not belong in this sport.”
That statement, about how Sutter does not belong in this sport, is not arrogant in the same way she has said it to others. This is more vile, more personal. The Assassin can sense this and while it does set him off he decides to pay her back by pushing the buttons of The British Bombshell. And Sutter knows just exactly what buttons to push.
“Awww, I’m hurt. You’re not still sore about how me and your daughter split, are ya?” He sneers, knowing that bringing this situation up will trigger Braddock’s anger. Sure enough, it does, as her eyes light up with rage.
“Do not talk about my daughter you piece of garbage!”
“Women. Ya’ll are nothing but a good lay. Objects.” He chuckles lightly but then shakes his head. “Not Melinda, she was more. Ya raised her well, Glory. We coulda took on the world and kicked its ass, her and I. But she has too much of your bullshit running through her veins. But don’t worry…”
The Assassin winks “...Melinda was damn fine in bed. Gives great blows.”
If Sutter wants to enrage Glory, to push her buttons, then he did just that. Instead of slapping the taste out of his mouth, The British Bombshell balls up her fist and blasts him in the jaw with a right cross. This staggers the bigger man backward. Braddock braces herself for an onslaught but Sutter just chuckles nastily as he rubs his jaw.
“Nice right hand ya got there.”
“I should have you arrested you piece of shit!” Glory exclaims angrily.
“But ya can’t! Because you know just as well as I do that everything Melinda and I did was consensual.”
“Says you. I think she’s just afraid to testify. Afraid to come forward.”
“How the fuck is she afraid to come forward against me?” Sutter asks with a snicker, looking somewhat astonished. “No one likes me, Glory. If I fell off the face of the earth not a damn soul would miss me. She would be perfectly safe testifying against me with the lies you’re spewing. Unless…”
The Assassin’s voice trails off, then a smirk forms upon his face as he begins to realize the truth of the matter “...Melinda has confirmed that everything we did together we consensual, didn’t she?”
Glory glares angrily. If looks could kill, The Assassin would be dead. Still, The British Bombshell doesn’t say a word. Sutter finally remarks. “I thought so.”
“Gloat all you want, mate, but understand that I will not rest until you are right where you belong; in a cage, like the animal that you are, and not out there in MY wrestling ring! The evidence will be there, even if I have to make it up!”
“Tell Melinda I said hello…” Sutter remarks with a wink.
“Go to hell!” Glory snarls as she turns and storms away angrily. The Assassin is pleased. He may not have won his Trios Buy In tonight but at least he enjoyed this interaction with his old mentor Glory Braddock. He pushed all of the right buttons, pissed her off, and now she’s running away. It feels good to intimidate a legend.
Legend. Pffft…