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Old 01-13-2017, 06:45 AM
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Default Kingdom Come 8: Tyrone Blades vs. Garth Black [Number One Contendership]

A number one contenders match for the world title, fought by two of the most disgruntled WZCW employees? Surely this will be money. Both men have had their ups and downs, with more ups than down. Both linked heavily to Phoenix. One is definitely in the Hollow Ones, the other is likely in the Hollow Ones. How will this fare for the future of WZCW?

Deadline is Monday 23rd January 11:59pm (CT)
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Old 01-23-2017, 12:43 PM
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Ty Burna Ty Burna is offline
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The scene opens to inside the office of Kenneth A Banks. The camera pans around, showing the multiple awards WZCW has received, as well as an original world title belt framed over the large heavy oak desk. Sitting behind a monitor is the very owner, his perfectly coifed suit masking the inner strength of the man who leads WZCW. The shining example of what an owner looks like. He stares down as he quickly fills out final paperwork for Kingdom Come 8. Suddenly a knock comes at his door as he looks up, his secretary standing in the doorway with her coat on.

Secretary: Boss, I'm heading home.

Mr. Banks: Very good, thank you for staying late.

Secretary: Aren't you heading home sir?

Mr. Banks: No, I have some more work to finish for Kingdom Come, you head on out and get some rest.

The secretary smiles and waves as she walks past the large glass window next to the door. Time passes as Mr. Banks continues to toil away, his brow furrowing as he reads over one contract closely. Another knock as a security guard checks in on the owner. No words exchanged but a thoughtful nod between guard and owner. The security guard walks away as Banks leans back in his chair, looking at the contract. At the top, it says in bold, Tyrone Blades vs. Garth Black - WZCW World Heavyweight Championship #1 Contendership. He sighs as he sets it down and quickly signs the bottom when suddenly his computer beeps. He looks up as an email automatically opens with an attachment. Mr. Banks narrows his eyes as he grabs the mouse to go open the attachment when suddenly a large popup comes up and reads.....WITH LOVE......

Mr. Banks: What in the....

Suddenly a chair comes crashing through the windows, glass shattering and falling all over the floor. Three men quickly hop into the room, their heads and faces covered as Banks is quick to his feet.

Banks: Security!

The three men laugh as they quickly corner Banks, one holding a baseball bat as they stare down their target. The one with the bat steps forward, a familiar sounding voice.

Tyrone: There ain't anyone to save you now Banksy boy!

Suddenly the smaller man grabs Banks from behind and places a white cloth over his mouth. Banks struggles against the chloroform, thrashing out as much as he can but soon drops to his knees, his eyes slowly closing as he stares up at the covered up face of Tyrone Blades. The scene goes black as Banks is dragged along the floor. Several moments past before muffled voices can be heard. Suddenly a light shines down from a single light bulb, illuminating Mr. Banks tied up and gagged in a chair, his head slowly moving up as he wakes up. The light is switched off and on repeatedly as the three Hollow Ones stare down at the WZCW owner. Tyrone stands in front, his arms crossed as he reaches out and slaps Banks hard across the face.

Tyrone: Wake the fuck up Banks, it's time you and I had a little chat.

Mr. Banks coughs as he struggles against his restraints, to no avail. Tyrone reaches out and rips the bandanna gagging him. Banks looks up at Tyrone, Phoenix, and Mr. Jones, his eyes showing a mix of fear and anger.

Mr. Banks: You are out of your mind Tyrone! This has gone far enough now! Neither of you are going to see Kingdom Come, you'll be in jail.

Tyrone: Who's to say you see the light of day if you keep talking shit Banks? Way I see it, you don't make the threats.

Tyrone walks up to Banks and presses the end of his bat against the throat of Banks, a sick look forming on the former world champion. Banks tilts his head back, his body shaking slightly.

Tyrone: I do. You see Banks, I'm tired of this game you keep trying to play with me. Now do the god damn right thing Banks and put me in that World Title Match!

Mr. Banks: I'm afraid I can't Tyrone.

Tyrone: Bullshit! You're the god damn owner. I know what type of power that carries!

Tyrone presses the end of his bat against Banks' throat before pulling it back ready to swing when Banks tries backing up with his feet.

Mr. Banks: N......n...no wait! Everything has been approved by the Board, I can't make any changes to the card now!

Tyrone sighs as he lowers his bat looking back to Mr. Jones, who shakes his head in dismay. Mr. Jones crosses his arms, mean mugging Banks in the process. Tyrone turns back to Banks, suddenly rushing towards him and pushing Banks and the chair all the way back to the wall, Banks' head whiplashing in the process as Tyrone gets right into his face.

Tyrone: Banks! Do you know why I started this revolution? Do you know why I have gathered the Hollowed Ones? It's because of you! Look at how you treat your people! Look at Phoenix and how far he fell! Did WZCW even bother to hold their hand out to a former champion? Did you even offer him any sort of help? No, just like everyone else in this god forsaken company you used all of them up and threw them away like trash. The likes of Blade never got his chance. Steven Holmes now walks with a limp and a cane. El Califa Dragon left because of your corporate bullshit! Everything must be so fucking bleached white for you. That's not what made this company what it is. It's on the backs of our workers, our minds that made everything great. I accepted it was our uniqueness that made us great. It allowed the likes of Saboteur and Action Saxton to be the greatest Tag Team Champions, it allowed S.H.I.T. and Barbosa to thrive. All those men cannot survive in the world you have created Banks. You destroyed everything that those men and myself built. And then the ultimate insult, you came to me. You needed my help to help your sagging PPV. I put over those two carnival acts at Kingdom Come, I thought I would help the future become great. But what did it get me Banks? What did it fucking get me?! You burying me.

Mr. Banks: B....but I put you in the Hall of Fame that year! How can you possibly say I buried you?

Tyrone laughs as he twists his head back and forth in front of Banks, tapping his bat back and forth as Banks tries to retreat once more to no avail. Tyrone grabs Banks by the tie, forcing the owner to face him.

Tyrone: Yeah you put me in that fucking dog and pony show. Drag the old man out and make a few more dollars off his name. Give the greatest talker in WZCW one more stage and talk his way to inflating your bank account. Just like you did it while Showtime was sick. You used his situation to gain sympathy points and another fat check in the process. I should have told the fucking world the truth then. I should have told them what YOU owe me. How about the fact that you had to come to me and beg for money to save your company? And I so graciously borrowed you the money with the intent of taking an ownership stake. A handshake deal, I'm not above legal business ventures Banks, but instead you spit in my fucking face, stole my god damn money, and never acknowledged our deal. Look at the fucking book Banks. I deliberately took little to no money from my merchandise sales because I fucking loved this company. It was my god damn life, so much so I ended up losing my wife and daughter over it! There it is in the fucking open. You stole from me my money, my life, and my god damn dignity. It's all your fucking fault Banks!

Tyrone pushes away from Banks as he walks back towards the Hollow Ones, brushing his hair back as he tries to calm down, his body ravaged with anger as he balls his hands up into fists. Mr. Jones slaps Tyrone on the shoulder, looking down at his employer to check on him. Tyrone nods his head as Banks looks on stunned.

Mr. Banks: You promised Tyrone. You promised you wouldn't speak a word of that to anyone! Do you realize what you've done?

Tyrone: Oh, I'm well aware Banks. I'm well aware of what I just did. And the whole world is going to see it to when this hits the air. They're going to know what a piece of shit liar you are! You fucking OWE me. And you didn't hold up your end of the deal.

Mr. Banks: How could I possibly give a maniac like you part ownership of WZCW? Look what you did last time, using your power for your own gains. Punishing those you hated. I couldn't do it Tyrone! I could never approve of you getting your hands on WZCW again.

Tyrone: Then give me my fucking money back!

Mr. Banks: I....I... I don't have it...

Mr. Banks swallows hard as Tyrone slowly turns back towards Banks, gritting his teeth in pure rage as he rushes forward and swings his back, just above Banks' head. Wood shatters all around as the bat explodes as Tyrone slams it repeatedly into the wall. He throws the handle of the bat to the side as he stands over Banks, his breathing labored as he continues to seethe before he crouches down, face to face with Banks once more, his voice suddenly measured and calm as he stares blankly forward.

Tyrone: I get why you put Garth Black and I in a match. I get it Banks. Put your two malcontents against one another and hope they destroy each other for a World Title shot. But there's one major problem with that formula Banks. See while Garth will just sit there and complain about what's befallen him, I'm the mothefucker that gets a god damn gang together to tear the motherfucker to the ground. While he writes in his little fucking journal and sends love letters out, I'm the one cracking skulls with a fucking baseball bat. Garth may be an annoyance and a pain to you, I'm the one that'll put you in a body bag. Let me make this very clear for you Banks, I'm taking this match with Garth Black. I've tried to work with him to both get what we want, after all you screwed us both, but it's clear he has no interest in a mutual success. So, I'll destroy his idea of a revolution, and on its desecrated ruins, I will launch mine. The World Title will follow, and all the power I need to end you will be mine. Your prized title will be in the grasps of a man who's willing to cross that line. And now, you're gonna keep this little conversation to ourselves. You get the cops involved, I know where you live. I can make your life a hell you couldn't possibly fathom. My life was ruined by your actions, I will not hesitate for mine to do the same to yours. Are we clear?

The silence takes over as tears start to stream from his eyes as he realizes the situation he's in finally. He lowers his head as he nods his head slowly.

Mr. Banks: Yes....yes I get it Tyrone. No cops will be involved.

Tyrone: That's what I like to hear. Oh and Banks?

Mr. Banks: Yes?

Tyrone: Nighty night motherfucker.

Phoenix suddenly rushes past Tyrone and pushes the chloroform covered cloth over Banks' mouth again as he struggles, coughing and losing consciousness as Tyrone brushes his hair back once more.

Tyrone: And get me my fucking money!

As Banks fades from consciousness, Tyrone turns and grabs the hidden video camera from a shelf, the scene shaking as he turns and adjusts it, his face filling the screen.

Tyrone: Take a real good look Garth. This is the difference between you and me. You want to talk about changing WZCW, we're the ones making it happen. You sit there complaining that they've screwed you over, yet what do you to rectify that situation? You just sit within the system, another cog in the machine. You don't fix the system while working inside it, you break the god damn machine and rebuild it from scratch. Face it Black, you couldn't do a damn thing until The Hollow Ones stepped in and fixed your problem at Unscripted. Banks and his cronies knew if it was you vs. Live Mas you'd never amount to anything or even remotely sniff the title. So, we took matters into our own hands. We took out Stormrage just for you to give the title right back to him. You were going to the champion we chose and not WZCW Management. And you fucked it all up. Instead of us being the brokers in the shadows, we're forced to step in and take matters into our own hands. So now I gotta put you down at Kingdom Come. We tried diplomacy, after all we work towards common goals, instead you rebuff me and continue your lack of passion for an ideal you claim to hold. I'm done with waiting for you to grow a fucking set of balls and do something about it! But no, you're going to sit there and continue with your woe is fucking me attitude, and when I hit you with that Click Clack, you're going to realize you're completely out of your league. You can't move the needle if your life depended on it, while I'm the one that shakes this industry with a flick of a wrist.

Tyrone pulls the camera back and throws it to Phoenix, who focuses in on his fellow Hollow One as he brushes his hair back, laughing as he turns towards Banks. He holds his hands out as he tilts his head back before pulling his bandanna back over his face and turning back towards the camera.

Tyrone: This is the line I'm willing to cross Black! What do you think I'm willing to do to get that opportunity at the World Title against you? I'm going to break you, and you'll be left in the dust as The Hollow Ones change WZCW into their image. We will make this company great again, and it's going to be after I rip control from this pathetic liar and the World Title from Cooper or Stormrage. All will be right with the world again, and then you can complain how I'm holding you down. And you know what Garth, that's exactly what I'll do, hold you down while I let the guillotine drop down across your neck. I'm not just some malcontent that's not happy with his spot on the card, I'm the motherfucker ready to terrorize and initiate guerrilla warfare until I get what I want. Fact remains this is the hand that was dealt to us Black, so talk all you want about your lack of a rematch, I'm focused on going through you and taking what should have been mine in the first place. Kingdom Come or Apocalypse, it really doesn't matter when I get my hands back on my title. You don't have the fucking guts to do what I'm willing to do, and that's what makes you weak. It's sad really, you would have been an asset in The Hollow Ones. Instead you took our gift and spit on it! We should have forced our way into the World Title match, instead we're stuck underneath, dancing like puppets for their masters. You see what I did to that "master"? I put him out cold after he pissed himself in fear of me.

Tyrone shakes his head as he pulls his hood up, fulling covering his face and head now as he grabs a bat off the floor, slamming it violently into his open hand before pointing it at the camera, his voice dripping with anger and malice.

Tyrone: I tried to help you Garth. I believed in the same message as you. But I'm hoping for others to step up and realize what is going on here. Your heart isn't in it enough to join my revolution. So, I'll cut you out and leave you for dead, another body on the road to WZCW's salvation. I will not let the likes of you deter the inevitable. Once again, it's up to WZCW's greatest warrior to stand up and cull the weak and kick those that have ruined this fucking company off the ledge of the mountain. I've given my life for this god forsaken industry, I will not let my own blood be spilled for nothing! What are you willing to sacrifice Garth? What are you willing to do to make everything right in your own image? Nothing. And that's exactly what they will remember of you after Kingdom Come. Another name lost in the abyss. A footnote in the resurrection of WZCW's golden era. You had your chance at champion and you lost it the very first moment you had to back up your claim. You made us look foolish in backing you, and now I will rectify that mistake, one swing of the bat at a time. And when Kingdom Come is over, you all know the name of WZCW's conqueror and savior. The man they call Tyrone Blades.

Tyrone looks back at Banks, a wicked grin forming on his face as he slams his bat down into his hand one more time.

Tyrone: Time to take out the trash.

The scene fades out, remaining dark for several moments before it comes back inside Banks' office, the owner slumped over his desk. He slowly comes to and begins to sit up, the window still shattered as the security guard can be seen standing in the office.

Guard: Sir, my humblest apologies. I was moving a chair out of the way and I ended up slipping and slamming into the window of your office.

Mr. Banks: Wha.....what are you talking about?

Guard: The glass on the floor, that was from me sir. Oh, and this was taped to your door.

The guard hands over a piece of paper to Banks who flips it over. In large cut and glued letters, it reads:

With Love,

The Hollow Ones
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Old 01-23-2017, 08:12 PM
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Welcome to the mind of Garth Black,
Through the medium of words on a screen
Don't think of this as a cloaked attack
More a reflection on the obscene.

A regurgitation of every event
That's happened over the years
Would be long and laboured lament
That would bore you all to tears.

The soul of wit is brevity
And father time's a thief
So with trademark honesty and levity,
The gospel of Garth stays brief.


I'm not a poet any more.

Expressing oneself creatively is only worthwhile if people understand you. There is nobody in this company with the intelligence to do so, so I gave up.

They will have you think that this was a regular occurrence, that I walk away all the time. The commentators say it on air all of the time. The fans talk about it backstage. How many chances is Garth Black going to squander?

To squander a chance you have to have a chance. I've left this company twice. Once because of events beyond my control when I'd barely been back for a few weeks. Once because I was completely disillusioned by being attacked by a man in a chicken costume. When I completely and utterly destroyed Phoenix, but he made friends with the top brass and so he got opportunities, whilst I got chicken skin and offal.

Everything done in this company is done to undermine me. Why was I put in the Lethal Lottery without any announcement or forewarning. Of course I wasn't going to succeed. It's just a ploy to make me into a loser and to try and stunt my growth.

I have battled my way from the bottom to the top. I have never had an unsolicited conversation with a member of the production crew. I have never made a backstage complaint. I have been a member of this community that is active and positive for years and I have had absolutely no praise for it. I don't expect it, but I certainly don't expect to be criticised publicly by members of the production team for things that I've never done.

In the last year and a half, through all of my very public, very sustained and very pronounced criticism of the company, I've still only had two conversations with those in favour of this company. One was about a plan for how my matches would be handled in the wake of Tastic using his pull for a win at Gold Rush. All of which was completely changed, by the way, without any discussion with me.

The second time was when I took the time to give a heart felt and honest interview with Leon Kensworth after my title victory. You never saw it because... well I don't know but I have it still, in it's complete form, unedited.

Why was it suppressed? It could be due to conspiracy, certainly, it's the sort of thing I'd expect. But what if it isn't? What if it's just ineptitude all along? We see the company all the time not knowing if its coming or going and frankly it's getting a bit ludicrous.

The commentators can change their mind about whether or not to back me every thirty seconds and the crowd aren't much better. It's a total lack of coherence and it is precisely why this company is losing competitors and losing viewers at an alarming rate. This company used to mean something. It used to be a powerful entity.

Well power corrupts.

And absolute power corrupts absolutely.

I guess it's been pretty clear to me for now that the people at the top of this company fall into a third category. Those that think they have power but are weak. And that's the most corrupt category of all - an entity so corrupt that it is lying to itself.

Tyrone Blades is not an idiot. Tyrone Blades is smart. The curtain may have been pulled back and the magician exposed, but the mind games are still there and the wastes of space at the top of the company are oblivious to the obvious. But I see it.

Tyrone has won one match at a PPV show since Kingdom Come VII, back when he was still Ty Burna. A handicap match against someone who isn't even in the company anymore to win the tag titles. Which he then lost and threw his toys out of the pram and stormed out. And they say I'm the one who is a flake.

Yet here he is, facing the true winner of the Gold Rush tournament, and the man who beat the current champion and this year's Hall of Famer on the same night to win the title, and whom was never given a rematch. Which one of those two wrestlers has had the year to justify being a number one contender and which one of those is dining out on former glories?

Tyrone, I embarrassed Tastic, I'm more than happy to do the same to you.

You see, I can see right through you.

When I first fought Abel Hunnicutt over a year ago, I said that this company was literally riddled with 'dark' 'mysterious' characters and that this was utterly ridiculous. It took the company mere months to cotton on to this fact, so they decided to turn on these characters. Even the great Ty Burna couldn't prevent the realism revolution.

So Ty[rone] and his buddy Phoenix are doing what Phoenix always knew best - they are riding on my coat tails. Don't think that wasn't deliberate. Tyrone saw I was gaining traction, saw I was getting a following and he's copied me whilst giving the impression of trying to support me and follow in my footsteps but it's completely cynical.

He has learned the shortcut to the opportunity I earned.

You see Ty[rone] has turned the delusion of grandeur into an illusion of candour. There's nothing honest about his endeavours, but he will whinge until he wins, and the likes of Becky Serra are too weak and too pathetic to say 'listen bud, your days are over, we've moved on.'

The days of going on and on and on are over. Well they should be. The bar's shut, time to go home, Tyrone, and if you need a helping hand out the door, I'm more than happy to provide it.

They always used to say that Garth Black was great at expressing himself but that his character wasn't very good. I never really understood what having a good character meant. Does it mean being honest. Does it mean being truthful or is there something beyond that. I don't mean to sound resentful but there's a difference between the truth and 'the truth'. One is inconvenient, the other is incomprehensible, both have their benefits and their flaws.

My truth is inconvenient, but at least it is honest. There's nothing I have said here that isn't true, and in the world of wrestling that's a big statement. Tyrone's 'truth' is incomprehensible, a man who is given every possible opportunity and yet still finds a way to say that he is oppressed.

To win my WZCW title, I had to beat multiple champions in the same match having already beaten them in a handicap match, having already won a tournament where I beat multiple former Champions having fought and battled for over a year to get noticed.

To win his, Tyrone turned up and was inserted into a title match for absolutely no reason, and lasted about 5 minutes as champion.

Seeing that unfold almost prevented me bothering to come back because it was exactly the same circus that has been going on for years.

Guys like Tastic and Mikey are the establishment choices, and I'll criticise them where it is due, but Tyrone is the very worst of them all. He is the establishment's rounded corner version of me. The only thing that's true about the whole Hollow One's schtick is that it's named accurately. Hollow of any meaning and genuine anguish, instead an empty shell, a facade designed to undermine those who have rocked the boat. But unfortunately, I can see right through you.

This match came from absolutely nowhere, but the more I thought about entering it, I realised this isn't all business, this is personal. I am who I am and who you are not, Tyrone Blades, and I do not appreciate having my name linked with your pathetic and cynical organisation. I hate you, I hate that the company doesn't rumble you and I hope I win for every single wrestler in the back who has been held down while you run roughshod and hold this company to ransom.

The truth will out, and remember that when it comes to the truth, quality far outweighs quantity.
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