[JoeBoXeR]

MAIN EVENT
"Round Two" -- Steel Cage Match
Winner qualifies into the Who's The Man?! tournament

"The Viper" Hunter Sullivan vs. "The Next Conspiracy" Jacob Figgins

(Normal RP Rules Apply)

[huntersullivan]

The Fallen G.O.D.

We open up to Hunter moving swiftly across a street, a camera crew follows him and all is well. People pass by the former Global champion and the wind blows a gentle calm, people passing by comment randomly filling the silence. Hunter looks back at the camera and finally makes a comment.

Hunter: “I had heard of Jacob Figgins back in BTWF, a company led by Brian Blade, originally Maxwell Conners. I didn’t pay him any heed, just some guy, just some wrestler. He was just a guy you heard of in the back of your mind, or a name that followed the phrase “Opening Tonight will be.” I never really had to deal with him or wrestle him until I came across him in GWA, Gambino Wrestling Alliance, ‘Indy Pride’ if you will. He was slightly above the title of ‘no-one’ never really given any notice outside scoffable feuds with Danny deamon and the Late “Rocker.” He never got any of my respect until bouts with Alex lords that led him to become the IGTT. “

Hunter keeps walking, he keeps everything brief and leaves out details because he doesn’t feel the need to spend the whole time talking about their history.

Hunter:” The sad part? I was his parallel. I was a low card nobody who was always “in the back of someone’s head.” I never really found a lot of respect, a few decent matches in Coast to Coast, a tag belt in BTWF, but nothing I would go out of my way to brag about. I hated it, I wanted to be better, get better and go somewhere. I just didn’t know how to go about it, however, what I did know was hardcore wrestling wasn’t going to get me there. So like they teach you in school, I made a goal, and little steps on how to get there. It started with dropping Hardcore wrestling, and obtain something worthy, so my first goal would be beating Jacob Figgins for the IGTT, the then, lowest belt on the totem poll.”

Hunter snickered as he walked along the side walk.

Hunter: “So yeah, I beat Figgy for the Trophy, Figgy and 6 other individuals in an 8 man battle to be exact, however, he beat me again for it not too long after. That was okay with me to a point, I had accomplished that first goal. I proved to me and everyone that MAYBE I can manage to do something with myself. Maybe I can be a world class wrester instead of the opening ‘boy wonder.’”

Hunter: “What were your plans I wonder, your dreams? Was it to rot away a waste of talent? If so, I’d say you succeeded. “

Hunter: “ Skip along the bunny trail and have a gander at PWA. Have a glance at how things became and were. We both started PWA the same week, same show, both of us with wishes or grander pastures. I had eyes set on the IC and you had the GB, it was all fun and games, take PWA by storm and be the best two around. You managed to gain your GB, and I fell short of the IC belt. That would be the only time you bested me in our careers. Come to think of it....”

“It was probably the last time you ever bested me.”

Hunter side steps a bum with his hand out stretched and scoff him off.

Hunter: “In case you haven’t picked up on what I’m eluding to, and the answer for why I’ve come to detest you so much over the last year, well I’ll explain. See, you listed off a few reasons on whatever radio show you decided to show on, that I talk too much, that I’m always trying to be the center of attention, an attention whore if you will. But you? I hate you almost for the exact opposite.”

“I hate you for not having the motivation that I have.”

“I hate you for not accomplishing everything you could have.”

“I hate you for being a poor excuse of a wrestler, when you could of had it all.”

“I hate you for falling into a tag team abyss after G.O.D.”

“I hate that you let yourself lose the Grizzly beer title without even trying to reclaim it.”

“I hate you because I know you should be so much more.”

“You may hate me for my ego and attention whoring, but I hate you because you’re a FIALURE.”

“I think I win out.”

Hunter Smirks as he takes a right on the road and keeps traveling forward.

Hunter: “So feel free to try and boost up your ‘should be non-existent’ Ego by tossing around grade school originality with garden snake and water Venom. So go ahead and think it makes you big, elegant and intelligent to use words larger than the peon fan base, and half the roster can comprehend. Go ahead and think up metaphors and whatever you’re thesaurus can give you and let EVERYONE know you can “talk a talk.” Because you can. You can talk and go on in confidence as if the sky is always blue and there is nothing wrong with you, and maybe for a fleeting moment we all are drowning in your false confidence and vision of grander skill. But only for a moment Figgy. Only for a moment because mere seconds later it dawns on us that this man who keeps talking his talk.”

“Can’t walk the walk.”

Hunter: “ As an old friend would say, “Where’s your crown, king nothing?” Where is the strings you use to keep up that facade of ability. Claiming you’ll stand tall when our last match was nearly whole year ago. And what have you done since? Two tag title reigns with Maverick? Yeah, and that’s IT! That’s IT. Nothing else. As things stand before you, you’re biggest accomplishment was a tie. A tie with me. The biggest thing you ever did was managing to take me to my limits and coming out as ‘co-franchise of PWA’ name holders. Me? I’ve gone more with my time here than tokes you can haul back. Wrestler of the year, Global champion, Beating Jethro even stems a beaming pride from me. We’re lucky if you even decide to try in your matches.”

Hunter pushes by a jogging individual not caring.

Hunter: “But like I told you before, I hate you because you should and could be so much more. Look at the Tag matches we had, greats. Look at the match we had at WTM last year, classic. I remember back to GWA and what we pulled off and I wonder...”

“What happened?”

Hunter: “Why can you only seem to pull out something decent when you face me Figgy? Why. And like you yourself said, I kicked myself when I found out how simple it is. And yeah it may sound Egomaniacal, and yeah you said it wasn’t this at all but at this point I could care less. You know I’m better than you! Shrug it off in a facade of the ‘cool guy’ if you want. I know it sucks away at your nerves and your patience and all you are because you know that this “garden snake” is more deadly than you are. You left Pantheon because you knew sooner or later it would become obvious my superiority to you. You say you helped make PWA a better place, better than Pantheon? You did nothing. You wasted away gripping and clawing trying to escape the tag devision... no, that’s not right at all. What you did was waste away in apathy, mediocrity and became one with the universal gesture of “meh.” “

“You’ve only been tag team champion since march or so of last year.... Meh”

“You hide away in the mid card so short of your potential...... meh.”

“You haven’t held a singles belt since your debut month....meh.”

“You haven’t left the ring leaving behind an impact in god knows long.... meh.”


“But you know.. I guess well...”

	Quote: Figgy:“you weren't really all the successful to begin win.”

	Quote: Figgy:“You were just handed more chances to fail.”

Hunter: “you’re a fucking idiot."

Hunter: “ I wasn’t all that successful? Isn’t this some sort of cliché out of the pot and kettle handbook? No, I guess I wasn’t all THAT successful. I was Just Global Champion, It only took the combined effort of everyone in the War games match to destroy me, and even then it was only temporary. I’ve only been Ic champion, I’m only up there in the main event most weeks, Co-wrestler of the year. No, that’s not successful at alllll. Figgy,I dare shudder at the thought of knocking you over the head with one more Viper snap, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I killed that last brain cell you seem to have left. “

Hunter: “And as for part two of that comment. Handed? Right fucking on, I expected this from Ryan, even Riona, but you. I’m disappointed indeed. I was not HANDED things. Go back to WTM, and look at how I got to the finals. I beat Ian and McNasty to get to the top, MARK MCNASTY, a hall of famer, a former world champion, owner of the longest title reign in the world champion division. Yeah, I was spoon fed to the top...... right. In fact HOW DID YOU get to the finals? Beating Jamie fl- oh wait. Flynn never even showed up and gave you a pass in the tournament. Con-fucking-lations. You were HANDED a chance to face me, not even given a replacement opponent. Nothing. Beat El rey and you are in the finals?”

“That’s just PRIME.”

Hunter: “ I earn what I got in this business, I never used you to “Sky rocket.” And you’re claims of doing all the grunt work? So wrong it’s disgusting. And this glass ceiling, yeah maybe I will hit it, maybe I’ll come face to face with it and smash right through it... and maybe I’ll just Bust on through, or maybe i’ll bounce right back down.”

“At least I had the guts to see it for myself.”

Hunter: “ That was your message. What message? The one I tried to give to you, the one I tried to send your way by snapping your arm. I wanted to piss you off, take away what you love, take you away from the ring. Rob and Chamelion may think it was to test loyalty and your betrayal, but as you said, it was already the Hunter show at this point and what I did was for the betterment of me. I destroyed you to wake you up, but it seems I failed to an extent. I attacked you in hopes one day when you came back you would take what I did and place it in that empty hole where motivation should be and do something with your god damn career. I hoped you would try and do it at my expense, I hoped to bring you to you’re knees when you were the most angry, at your best. What happened instead is you took me out in karma. “

“Well now it’s time for me to show you how vengeance really works.”

Hunter:” It’s my turn to make the return, my turn to take you on at my most determined and my best. I won’t do it to injure or to destroy you.”

“I’ll do it to show you what a real man looks like.”

Hunter: “Call me the center of attention; tell me that I crave it, that I need it. And I’ll tell you I rather have all my accomplishments and standings than I would be a bumbling “what if” of a wrestler. Call down Pantheon and all the good it did. Call me down and tell me I was merely used, abused, and tossed aside in Pantheon, tell me all I care about is being the center of attention. And I’ll tell you what it’s like to be successful and to actually care.”

[celticfury]

Jacob Figgins is seen in his basement, sitting on his couch and watching the television. It seemed he was examining DVDs from the past

“How long has it been, Hunt? How long has it been since we first met inside the ring? Five years? Six?That ill fated tag team match in CTC. Y'know when that event first happened, I thought it was simply another encounter in that worthless company. And hell, I thought that after I walked out of the company, walked out of CTC for good that I'd never see you and your ridiculous Mohawk again. But you know, you came slithering out the wood work in GWA. At first, you didn't bother me at all. You would bugger off and feud about the company's nonexistent Hardcore division. But then, you started to get annoying. It wasn't just me. Why do you think you got dropped from that company? But hey I'm rambling.

“It's your second stint in that company that counts. Am I correct? That's when you started going by your legal name. That's when you saw the 'light' and got into the technical artwork, the human chess part of the game. I always wondered, Hunt. You said once that you became obsessed with the technical half of the game after the Second Undercard Anarchy. That was the first time you clashed with me in the ring and of course six other opponents besides us in the match. But call it ego, call it what you will, but I can't help but notice that I was the most technical worker in this match. So you are saying you learned from me. Try to deny it, but you know? Using one of my old finishers right after I quit using it is pretty good evidence. That was a pivotal match in your career you won the IGTT , but that wasn't what put your name on the radar in that company. It was the classics you had with ME. I was the only one there who would make you use your full talent. I was a key part to you evolving from a garbage wrestler into what you are today. Remember this?”

Screen fades into what looked to be an old video clip from Figgy and Hunters pasts. Just a clip from a match from an Indy promotion.

	Quote: Hunter is knocked hard to the matting as Figgy tries and regain himself. Jacob proceeds to limp around on his leg, surely they have started to even out is disadvantages and advantages. It’s now that he needs to focus on Hunters neck and get him out of the match before his knee can be capitalized. Sullivan rolls over on the matt and slowly starts staggering to his feet with a daze, tripping forward into the ropes once to his feet. Jacob follows up on the kick and attacks Hunter from behind, still on his limp. Forearm, forearm, turning him around as to lay in more strike’s, left, right, euro, forearm, chop, chop, knee. Figgy quickly takes advantage of his dazed and confused state to send him hard into the parallel ropes. Figgy heads off the ropes, bending and awaiting Hunter return. Fig meets his opponent with a stiff Calf kick! Knocking hunter hard onto his back, holding his face in pain. Sullivan shifts to a seated pose Holding his face, Jacob quickly shifts down applying a cravat. Figgy managed to geta good grip on the neck and is now wrenching it hard, He has to weaken Sullivan more for the Spectral Fig Effect. Hunter is in pain as he starts to regain his sense of where the hell he is. Sullivan shifts himself to his knees, pushing himself to a vertical position. Once Figgins saw Hunter to his feet, he bounces off the ropes barreling straight to Hunter attempting to crush his throat with a LARIAT-NO. Sullivan ducked underneath Figgins forearm and slips behind him and wraps his arms around Figgins’ waist and drives him to the mat with a back suplex. Hunter got back to his feet taking a breather while Figgins used the ropes to get back to his feet. Seeing Hunter still resting, Figgins bounced off the ropes, by the time Hunter managed to turned around BAM! CRAVAT CUTTAH. Sullivan was sprawled out onto the ground, holding his neck while Figgins knelt down applying a pin. 1! 2! KICKOUT

The clicking of the remote could be heard, the screen fading back to Figgy lit smoke dangling from his lips. Figgy stared into the camera.

“I remember that match, that was when I took the IGTT from you. The night I made you tap out to the spectral Fig Effect. Look at how we went back and forth, we were showing everyone that we were not going to fade away after that company closes it's doors. I know what I was thinking back then. If I didn't win this match, I was going to make sure that it would at least be a damn good resume for wherever I went. So in a way, you were helpful to me. How about we go back even further? How about our fist encounter in singles match?”

	Quote: Hunter looks to Figgy, growing a small grin as he shifts weight back and forth between his leg’s shifting side to side awaiting for the bell. Figgy is bent over hands on his knees looking directly at Hunter, If the fact that he was never beat for the belt isn’t a good enough reason for a title rematch, he’ll make sure that he give’s management a even better reason. Five of Hunters teeth on there desk. The IGTT will be his. The ref looks to both men, seeing they are clearly ready. DING DING! The ref moves back as Hunter and Figgy move out of there turnbuckles ready to lock up at any moment. Sullivan and Jacob don’t make any attempts to lock up though, not truly trusting each other enough to move in and start it. Hunter makes a movement forward and Figgy will back up and vice versa. Figgy finally puts his arm out to signal a test of strength lock up. Hunter moves in and accepts the lock, interlocking his figures with Figgy. Figgy and Hunter smash together there chests trying to push each other back. Hunter seems to have a slight advantage but soon Figgy sends up a strong knee nailing Hunter in the abdomen causing him to double over. Figgy tugs on Hunter arm sending him into the ropes, coming back after meting the ropes in a rebound. Figgy has his elbow cocked back and goes for a strong shot but Hunter ducks under it as he keeps going to the other side of the ring. Figgy turns and goes to knock Hunter down this time with a big boot. The IGTT counters again sliding under the move as he drops to the mat. Figgy turns again into a flurry of left knuckle shots rocking Figgy back slightly. Hunter has a bit of the upper hand here so far as Hunter see’s Figgy dazed and runs back to the ropes rebounding off and coming in with a shoulder block. The move nails Figgy but he doesn’t go down. Hunter looks at him and makes a challenge holding out his shoulder. The next Conspiracy accepts and runs to the ropes coming off and hitting Hunter with a shoulder block, Hunter to, not leaving his feet. Figgy glares at the champ and sends in a stiff chop, Hunter feeling pain doesn’t show it as he returns the chop. Figgy not to be bested show’s no pain as well. The former champ sends in a elbow rocking Hunter back. Hunter comes back with one of his own rocking Figgy back. Jacob grabs Hunter by the head and sends in a high knee making the champ double over and stagger back. Hunter and Figgy seem to be in the middle of a “im better than you” contest as Hunter regains himself and sends in his own high knee. Figgy recovers and hits a nice toe kick. Hunter returns with one of his own. Figgy cock’s back and hits a nice right hand staggering Hunter. The IGTT smirks as he returns with a nice left shot, clearly having more impact then Figgy’s punch as it staggers him back into the ropes. Figgy grunts and quickly comes up to Hunter grabbing him by his head and sends in a skull shattering Headbut knocking Hunter from his feet.

“That was right after you won the IGTT, when you prevailed in an eight man match. The management had you face me. You were excited, you were jubilant to know that was a non title match. Because you knew before you even stepped between the ropes that I was going to be the biggest test for you. And I was, you may discredit the win like usual. But you can't deny that you got pushed beyond your mental barriers trying to keep me down, trying to make me submit. But every time you slapped me into a hold, you tried to hit a finisher, I countered it. I had you cornered against the wall as you tried to figure out how to slow my advance. You were were a drama club actor, and I was an Avant Garde assassin. I was an artist years ahead of you, and it showed.”

“But you are probably going to run your mouth, state just how far ahead of me you are now. The thing is, kid. I'm twelve steps faster than you will ever be. You can try to be better than me. But when you Zig I will zag and watch you fall flat on your face. I will break every lock, I will break every hold. I will shrug off every toss, slam and suplex. You try to charge me, I will pick you up and slam you face first into that cage. Show me just how much better than me you are . Because so far you are failing miserably. You think I've slacked off? You think I am out of my game? I will answer those questions with an emphatic no. Because I know, you know, the whole of the Figgified Nation knows that one does not prod a sleeping bear. Because they'll bite your motherfuckin' arms off. But you decided to test your luck against the Figeffect. You jumped into the bear's cage and no matter what you do. No matter how much you run. You can no longer escape the inevitable fate about to befall you”

“PWA might of made this a main event just for ratings. Last years Who's the Man!? Winners once again face to face. Can one of us win it two years in a row. Hunter, I frankly do not know if I will. But I will do every thing within my power to make sure that you don't. You won't make it past the quailfier, I will make sure the cage flays you alive. I will make sure that my hands are washed in your blood. I will make sure you won't be able to move a single inch before I even think of climbing that cage. And I'm pretty sure you studied that segment on the video wire long enough hoping you came up with a cracker jack argument. Here is the thing.”

“You're not Motivated, You're desperate. Every one can see it, no matter how much pseudo intellect you try to spray about to argue that point, you are desperate. I maybe a failure, I maybe a defect in the grand machine that is PWA. But at least I haven't lost my soul to this industry, I may have given a lot of my life to this ring, but I haven't lost my soul. Hell, since I am such a failure in your eyes I'll send a resume to the brother hood, I'd get in easy right? But hey I suppose I can learn from all that failure, use every thing I learned against you and watch you get left in the dust. Hell, you know what ?I'll agree with every thought running through your head. I lost something when I left the Pantheon, something in my mind finally shut down, and I just became Jaded about the business. Some caused me to no longer care, and no matter how much I try to justify it with ego, playing to the crowd, or simply shrugging it off. It's staring at me right in the face. I just didn't give a damn.”

“Something in my mind simply said I was burnt out. Wins and losses seemed to be just the same. The twinkle of gold just seemed to dull and fade in the back ground. And hell I might even be mad seeing where you went and where I went. But it's not jealousy and the anger isn't even directed at you. I'm mad at myself for letting my mind slip away from what matters in this company, in this business. I'm at myself for veiwing the titles as just another prop on the stage. Hell, I might even be as bold as to say I don't hate you. Who knows, I just might be misplacing a lot of rage, I might be misplacing a lot of ego just to make excuses. Just to tell myself that I am not as worthless as I look. Just to tell myself that I am not just another talent with potential that got fed up with this industry at way too young of an age. I keep making excuses and hope that ten years from now I'm not working in a grocery store and have to listen to people say. 'Look there's Jacob Figgins, he could have been one of the best but he pissed it all away'”

“You know what, I'll even go into the match with that mentality. I'll go into the match with a shirt simply reading failure across the chest. But before a coy smirk crosses your maw, before you think I'll head into the ring like it is a somber procession. Remember what I said earlier about this mentality, I'm pissed. Wherever that spark is that made me care is having fuel thrown upon it I'll hide behind no monkier, hide behind no persona. I will come down to the Ring simply as Jacob Figgins, no Figgified nation. No conspiracy theories. Just an angry son of a bitch...looking down the barrell and seeing you at the end of it. You want to see the vintage Figgy that you faced so damned long ago? You want to see a raw Figgy. You will see that and so much more. I am Jacob Figgins, and I WILL NOT FUCKING FAIL!”

[huntersullivan]

The Figgified Fraud.

We open to an image of Hunter looking at a picture on a shelf. the camera has a good shot as it is Hunter, Figgy, maverick in the NLS training area, a family friend had taken the time to take a picture of the rookie and his two trainers. Maverick obviously was under the name of chaos at the time as he had the name up his pant leg. Figgy and Hunter actually look fairly happy and content with what they were doing. A time long lost in the turmoil of rivalries and feuding, jealousy, envy, and attention seeking gluttony.

Hunter: “it’s not all that common for me to listen to a reply promo and hear what I heard from you Figgy. It’s not often that I call out someone on all their faults and short comings, their idiot choices, and how I’m am better than them, and they turn around and tell me that I’m right. People normally fight through their pride and refuse for their ego to be shattered to easily. There is a certain respect in that, a certain respect in standing up for yourself and what you’ve done. But not you, you just nostalgia about times of old reassuring yourself that you could still do what you claimed you can. Problem is i know what you COULD do, I just don’t know about now.”

Hunter: “I guess that just shows how pathetic you have become.”

Hunter places the picture back on the shelf and

Hunter: “What happened to your slick words and intelligent metaphors this time Fig? Where did your swagger and confidence go. It’s not hard to tell when someone was actually effected by what you said, it’s not hard to tell when you hit the spot. I told you that you were next to useless in this company today due to your inability to care. And just like I expected you came back with another resounding “meh” No.. no, I think I’m a little off this time, it wasn’t as much of a meh, as it was a depressed confession. “yeah... I do suck””

Hunter: “The truth hurts figgy.”

Hunter wanders to his trophy case of replica belts and smirks, the glimmer brings up his spirits as he continues.

Hunter: “It hurts so much you had to go back and see, see all these technical workings you were known for, look at these skills you pulled off and ask yourself, can I still do that. Can I still work the mat like I once did. You didn’t show those clips to show me that you can wrestle, you did it to show the fans, to show yourself that you can wrestle. Because me? I know you can wrestle, I know what you bring to the table because you said a statement of truth. You played with the idea that I semi idolized you. While I wouldn’t use the term idolize, I used you as motivation, I used Riona, I used Steven twist and Darson. I see you all use your respective styles so well that I wanted in that I could use that to make it to the top just like they had and I felt you would. So when I faced you, yeah I learned, I’d be a fool not to. I learned from one of the better technicians I’ve ever faced. I would never discredit a win, never shrug off the skill it took me to just survive, that’s why I feel some of my matches with you were my best. Why compliment you so much now when I insulted you so much previously. For contrast.”

“You were a friend, someone to learn from, and now, now the only thing I can learn from you is a list or ‘what not to do’. And maybe that’s why I’m so angry with you, why I hate you because somewhere it makes me sad, makes me hang my head and look away to see what you have become. It angers and flatters me as well that most your match accomplishments are with me. It flatters my ego to think that I bring out the best in you, it is flattering to see that you still got it in you and you feel the pride and necessity to bring it all against me for any reason or any reward. It flatters me to think that you need to do this, that is actually might damage your ego and self esteem if we don’t put on the show we are expected to put on. And it disgusts me that you can’t seem to do it any other time. You come up against someone else and you don’t do the same. I do, against Jethro, and Engel,and Robinson, not just you. I do it at every PPV I can, I do it every match I can, that’s why I was able to get here and you stay there. I put the effort forward, I am not a role model in the strictest of ways, but if everyone in this business was a little more intense in what they do, it would be a den of great wrestlers indeed, not a place of potential.”

Hunter: “Hide away behind your fading confidence, with claims of how you will do this or that and fall into the Viktor stone method. Talk about how you will snap me and break me, make me tap and drop me on my head only to be laughed at when he goes out and fails to do anything of impact. I’m not prodding a sleeping Bear, I’m trying to get the damn bear off his circus unicycle and back into the wild he came from. If that means I need to slap some sense and aggression into the fucker I’ll do just that. ”

Hunter: “You are twelve steps ahead of me? I think you’re confused, I’m coming around to lap you .”

	Quote: “You're not Motivated, You're desperate”

Hunter: “ What the fuck, where in the holy high hell do you get that. You merely state that I am and run away as if your word is law. Well fuck that, because it is obviously you who has grown desperate. So desperate that people don’t actually realize what we BOTH know , you are scrambling at little things like why I left GWA, So desperate you try to switch focus and claim I have sold my soul. Fuck that supernatural spirit soul bullshit, what happened is I gave my all to what I love and what I do. Fuck your soul, that’s merely a grasp at straws attempt to make yourself look good. Justify your lazy ‘meh’ life style. “

“I’m The viper, and There is no cure to the sickness you’ve inbedded in yourself.”

[celticfury]

com·pre·hen·sion
[kom-pri-hen-shuhn]
–noun
1.
the act or process of comprehending.
2.
the state of being comprehended.
3.
perception or understanding: His comprehension of physics is amazing for a young student.
4.
capacity of the mind to perceive and understand; power to grasp ideas; ability to know.


Blackness fades from the screen along with the image of the words. Jacob Figgins is seen leaning against a street lamp. No Beer, no cigarette hanging from his lips. Only a coy smirk upon his lips, silver rimmed shades upon his nose. Snow desperately clung to the shady spots around him, hanging on for dear life to survive the on coming advance of spring. Jacob pulls the shades from his face, as he began to walk along the ill maintained side walk. One could see Jacob's shirt, big red letters reading 'Failure' Emblazoned across the chest. Reaching into his left pocket he produced a small tape recorder as he looked directly into the camera.

“Hunter, is it sad that I must explain this to you. That your forked tongue is trumped by your lack of comprehension. Your ability to listen to something, stir it around in your head, take out a few key words and then open your mouth. A scent suddenly wafts across the listeners nose, it reeking of the foulest form of bile. That stench, that atrocity so offensive against anything with sinuses. That is the stupidity leaking out of your mouth. Man, do you really think that I am the type to rollover and die because it took someone six days to come up with an argument? You took an entire six days to come up with all this. If a slow child had that much time to reply even they could sound like a master debater. Once again you fall for a simple trick of mine that others have called out instantly. Ya see, it is a basic theme I have incorporated in a lot of my promos. The point where I tell the opponent to continue to keep their opinions about me. Sometimes I may even apply a hypothetical world for them to cavort around in. Let them indulge themselves in the mind set that I am just a speed bump, just a minor threat. Let them walk into the match with that thought marinating the mind. It just makes the victory all the more glorious when they snap out of the realm of slumber and find that it was ME who out smarted them, ME who outclassed them, Me who gets his hand raised in the end.”

“But as I have stated earlier. In most cases, people are quick to pick up on it, call me out. You, you took it hook, line and sinker. Is the once magnificent Viper losing the sharpness that he once possessed? The mental clarity that he once boasted of? It saddens me Hunter, it saddens me to see you become dazzled by your own ego. To see how easily you let a man you deem a failure, that you deem as an idiot, maroon you into the isle of your own delusion.”

Jacob holds up the tape recorder and hits play.

	Quote: “You may shrug me off, and accuse me of just rambling. I say go ahead, continue to think that I am just a minor threat.”

Jacob hit the stop button shaking his head as he hits play once more.

	Quote: “You're the one facing me this week. You're the one telling me to underestimate you, look past you, and already claim victory. You're the one who seems to know my every step, but I don't march to the beat of your drum, Jacob.”

Jacob stows away the tape recorder into his front pocket and continues walking. He passes through a somewhat shady looking neighborhood. Bums on the side of the rode, housing projects lining the streets. Every building stained with graffiti, marking them to some fledgling street gang.

“You see, that is the usual response. They don't fall for it a single second. Yet you, with your ever widening vacuous void of so called comprehension took my words literally. You did exactly what I told you to do. Much like a lap dog, you complied to my every word. You ROLLED OVER and believed every word I said. You SAT there and let it get settled nice and deep in your mind. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if you fell for it too deep. Will you enter that cage and FETCH me something to hang over your head? While I go in there and teach you how to PLAY DEAD? The sad thing is, the aforementioned lap dog can only be taught these tricks through positive reinforcement. A dog does those tricks because they know that soon they will be taking a treat from their master's hand. What about you? What was your positive reinforcement?”

Exiting the neighborhood, finds a nearby bench of an abandoned bus station. A homeless man laying there, clinging a bottle shaped paper sack close to him. Sleeping off the last night's stupor. Jacob settled down at the edge of the bench, once more, pulling out the tape recorder and hitting play.

	Quote: “Hell, you know what ?I'll agree with every thought running through your head”

“I can't help but hang my head and sigh, as I listen to what I said, and then listen to what you said. The opening sentence of my 'depressed confession' utterly screaming 'It's a trap!' with more bravado than admiral Ackbar himself. But you stepped right into the snare, despite the fact that it was a bright orange hue, standing out within the green foliage. But hey, I guess a broken clock is right at least twice a day. A useless wrestler, will every once and a while find a reason to laugh and show pity toward a member of the higher card. How does it feel , Hunt? How does it feel to be so comfortably numbed by your own festering, fermenting ego that you can't even feel your words biting you in the ass.”

“You are simply another ungrateful. One of those who rant the same pedantic tripe of how you put asses in seats. But at the same time you don't seem to realize that those asses are the same asses who put your ass in a house. You come out here every week and spam the video wire with something you would hear at a high school debate. The thing is Hunt, this isn't high school, this isn't debate team. THIS IS WRESTLING! You seemed to have shown some distaste with how I speak to the fans. How I claim to be their leader, yet at the same am able to admit that I have flaws, that I am human. Here is the thing, while you sit there and try to figure out ways to verbally dissect your opponents. I sit there and do the same, but do you know what I also do? I try to also find a way to connect with the fans. The rich ones, the poor ones, the sell outs, the screw ups, the bright, the dull. All these huddled masses are welcomed openly into the Figgified Nation, whether they decide to stay or go is their choice. You just sit there and drone on, bragging about being Elite, being superior, being motivated. You make no effort to thank, despise, or even mention those who show up and put another zero on your paycheck. You act like those who helped you get where you are today don't even exist. I'll admit, I had a rollercoaster ride with the fans, they loved me, they despised me, they even thought 'meh'. You sit there and tell the fans what to think, and expect them to follow. But what you don't realize is that two minutes into listening to one of your promotional videos, that a lot of the locker room is saying 'meh'. I wonder how many fans have mimicked that expression while listening to you?”

“The truth only hurts for those trying to hide it. I got nothing to hide. But what about you, you're so quick to point out the flaws others. While you continue to try and sweep yours under the rug. You continue to sweep and sweep until that wrinkle under the rug continues to become a mountain. I showed those clips to remind you, to make it know just who the hell you're dealing with. Why your words in all reality, even if I do let them get to, why they mean jack shit to me when I awake the next day. Because I KNOW I can still do what you claimed I have lost. I KNOW that I can make you second guess your tactics. I KNOW that I can find and exploit each and every chink in your armor. I KNOW that deep down inside, you know that every single word out of your mouth is hollow. I KNOW that I can beat you like I have back then. But you know what? Continue to get comfortable. I'm just another Viktor Stone, right? I'm just another name to put down in your list of match of the week. I'm just another to bellow out threats and not capitalize on any. I am only a mere blip on the radar screen. I am just a minor threat.”

“You were a friend, a comrade at arms, hell and even in a sense a mentor. But then you started to believe your own hype. And by saying this I don't mean the hype of others. Solely the hype that brewed in your own head. It's not always a bad thing in this business, when you first start off, who else is hyping you? But you became drunk off it, you let it become some whole new world. Your definition of success, merely became statistics based on the number of plaques and titles you earned. You became the douche bag who brags for years about getting employee of the month. My success is measured by respect. Respect I earned from the likes of Roy Chambers, for showing him that being rookie does not make fighting me a cake walk. Respect I earned from the late, great Rick 'Rocker' Shaddock. Respect I earned from Danny Daemon, Alex Lords, Hated. Even here I continued that trend, Hunter. Respect I earned from Riona, Vitally Petrov, Viktor Stone, Raizzor, Jethro Hayes, Scott Nash Strader. I inspired people such as Johnny Maverick, Ross and Zout, Lacey Gloria, and Gary Maverick. This list goes on longer than your list of week by week achievements. You say I can't put on a decent show without you being present? Then how? How did I earn myself the respect from people that I haven't even had a match with? Why do I get a pat on the shoulder from others when I am heading backstage after a match and being told 'good match, Figs' 'Great match, Figgy'. Because I'm lazy? Because I have fading confidence?”

“Ya know, maybe your words might have a bit more meaning if you thought before you spoke. Your words might actually get to me if you actually took the time from your incessant droning to stop and think. 'Do I actually know this guy as well as I say I do?' You might not come off as an idiot if you took the time to let what I say sink in your head before you throw about insults and start rambling on about the exact opposite of it's meaning. Go ahead, slap me, prod me, knock me off the unicycle. Those will be the last things you do. You won't be able to come back with that smug sense of pride you constantly radiate. Oh and don't worry, there will be enough impact from me to go around.”

“You're not motivated, You're desperate. It is common for man to show their hate towards something deeply imbedded within them. It is a desperate attempt to detach oneself of the trait they are most ashamed of. Somewhere in your mind, Hunter you look at your assumed image of me and realize you are just as prone to it. So you desperately cling to every award, every title. You desperately try to make me look worthless, and make you look like the king. But the thing is where is all that gold now? Where is all those achievements you nuzzle to help you sleep at night? They are all in the past. Wrestler of the year 2009? I'd hate to inform you but it's 2010. What have you done this year? You hid in a hole and taunted a guy you deem worthless. I scramble at little things? You go into depth and spout out circular logic about little things. Your image has tarnished and you are desperately trying to make it regain it's splendor. That's where in the holy high hell I got that. You learn a lot by listening to someone, and you, my friend are an open book. You lost your soul, not in the supernatural sense. It may be a bit of a stretch for your reptile brain but 'soul' can also be another term for 'conscience'. You lost your soul in the drunken haze of your ego. You lost your soul to the numbing buzz success. You lost it at your first taste of it. You lost all sense of logic along with it. Hunter in reality, you are right now, nothing more than a critic. And do you know what I do best? Tell critics to fuck off as they stand in awe of the performance I just put on.”

“I am the FigEffect, and you are just a humble garden snake.”

Jacob gets up from the bench and turns his back to the camera. The graphic upon his shirt becoming visible. It was Hunter Sullivan recieveing the Crisis Averted at war games. Red text below the picture reading. 'Never looked this good'. That was the last thing seen before we.

Glance into the blackness...