AF14: Connor Reese vs. S.H.I.T

[Viola Moonlight]

From the events that have occurred between S.H.I.T, Barbosa & Alhazred, these three men have been isolated and split between the three shows to prevent any more tragedies from occurring. S.H.I.T has been placed on Aftershock where he will be taking on Connor Reese, a man who has successfully pinned the Mayhem champion and has started making a name for himself.

Deadline 19th of September, 11:59pm Central Time. No extensions allowed​

 

[Miko]

S.H.I.T stares at its wooden prison, the box used to transport it from show to show, stacked away with all the other equipment, itself simply waiting for its next match. A match against the rookie Connor Reese, another match that will no doubt be ruined by Barbosa.

S.H.I.T had been close, it had Alhazred exactly where it wanted him before Barbosa’s appearance, it had Black Dragon physically unable to answer a 10 count before Barbosa’s appearance. All because he wanted an answer to a question, an answer that if he doesn’t have now, he will never be able to fully comprehend.

S.H.I.T has always been like this, its purpose spanning no longer than the time it takes to destroy its next opponent, the purpose and direction were always those of other people, Ty Burna the most prominent example, S.H.I.T was merely the mechanism used to complete his schemes, with or without Ty Burna, S.H.I.T simply destroys its opponents. But being controlled had taken its toll, if emotion were possible from this Machine, then it would only feel hatred towards Ty and Alhazred, Ty is gone, unreachable, but Alhazred still needed to be punished for daring to control the Machine. His time would come at Apocalypse.

Barbosa has upset the system though, S.H.I.T has twice now found itself unable to finish an opponent, being denied its very purpose for the sake of a stupid question that it cannot provide an answer too. Barbosa must be dealt with, if it were possible for S.H.I.T to feel emotion, it would feel hatred towards Barbosa, the weak Human depriving S.H.I.T of the very thing it was constructed for, all for the sake of an answer.
He’d never get that answer, but he would get destroyed for his troubles, he along with that mad Dr/Mister. Come Apocalypse, both their times would come. How dare they disrupt the system!

HOW DARE THEY!

Before that it had other matters to attend to, the powers that be have decided to put S.H.I.T/Alhazred/Barbosa on different shows. A foolish idea, S.H.I.T may have no warm feelings for its future opponents, but it knows that these are people that are not to be denied what they want. It’d have to be on the lookout.

It had been placed on Aftershock, a small part of it could believe that this was a slight, it had been relegated to the third show while its opponents have been given higher billing on the main two shows.

This fact was incomprehensible, S.H.I.T considers itself the finest example of what a consistent performer should be, it had beaten everyone that had been put in front of it, all of them, Alhazred had only just returned and Barbosa is fluctuating to a point that would make Matt Tastic envious.

S.H.I.T was the most dangerous Apostle, yet it had to qualify for a World Title match, it was being held down, slapped down, nothing showed this more than the pathetic Fantabulous Fifteen, after weeks and weeks of dominating the opposition with the Apostles, after the break up S.H.I.T is nowhere to be found on the list, while the previously mentioned Matt Tastic sat in the top 10. It beat one of WZCW’s finest in Celeste Crimson but yet it had to share the last spot with Barbosa. The Fantabulous Fifteen was a triviality, not important, but perhaps it pointed to something bigger. Perhaps management still hadn’t forgiven it for Kingdom Come, perhaps the stigma from that would hold S.H.I.T back forever.

Unimportant, it would never get the opportunities it deserved while Barbosa was interfering, S.H.I.T couldn’t give him an answer, but it could give him a beating, it could talk the language a being like Barbosa would understand. Violence.

Connor Reese stood in the way for the meantime, its chosen opponent was laudable, the man who has toppled Ace Stevens. It could look like he was being thrown in at the deep end, but S.H.I.T knew better, it wouldn’t be able to let its guard down.

It wouldn’t let its guard down!

Connor Reese may be a bright young star with a big future, but his rise would hit the immovable object on Aftershock, S.H.I.T had clawed hard to be considered a feared presence in the locker room, it wasn’t going to let that be taken away, not by Connor Reese, Barbosa, Alhazred, not by anyone.

It walks around its box, calmly surveying its home/prison. A life of isolation, only coming out when it was time to destroy its intended target. A life that Barbosa has tried to force upon himself but would never truly understand. S.H.I.T was built for this, it could not be copied, or imitated.

Now it was time for isolation again, only to come out when it was time to destroy, Barbosa and Alhazred needed to be destroyed, but unless an opportunity presented itself that would wait until Apocalypse.

S.H.I.T stepped back into its box.

Connor Reese wouldn’t wait, at Aftershock S.H.I.T would be forced to make an example out of him, an example to Alhazred, and example to Barbosa. An example to anyone who thought that because S.H.I.T has no Human to guide it anymore, it would simply go away.

It is stronger than ever!

 

[Remix]

Connor hates this tiny, tiled room. He hates the overly sterile tiles; he hates the perfect whiteness of every surface within it. But most of all he hates significance this tiny changing room still holds in his mind. It was in this room where he would mentally prepare for torture. Here was where he'd massage as much pain out of his battered body as he could in preparation to do the same thing tomorrow. Showing weakness was a luxury he had been denied since signing with STA. He stares at the maddeningly uniform tiles on all surfaces. All of them pristinely white. But they weren't a minimalist design statement, like some may have thought. No, he knew they had been chosen out of necessity. Nothing was easier to wash blood off of than these tiles. Too much blood had been spilled in this room. Whether dripped to the floor from some cut or another, or smeared on one of the surfaces en route to the equally sterile shower. Connor snarls for a moment. Disgusting. The one thing he doesn't hate is its only imperfection. Somebody broke the looking glass. Probably in a fit of rage about the barbaric training; the lectures over chess; but most of all being a thing... a product in the eyes of his masters. He looks at his shattered reflection, absentmindedly rubbing his knuckle. The act of rebellion had been worth the blood and hours of pain he'd suffered as a consequence. A knock at the door breaks his reverie. Not waiting for him to answer, Kara walks in.

"They're here, Con. Shall I get him?"

He nods and walks towards the attractive woman. "Thank you." He leans in and kisses her. "I'll See you after they've left. I've got something special planned for tonight." He grabs his jacket, putting it on. Time to go to work.

He walks down the plain corridor to where he and Sascha had arranged for this little publicity stunt. Reaching the end, he takes a deep breath steeling himself - as he always did for what - was about to come. "Welcome, to the wonderful circus." Flashes everywhere. How many calls did that woman make? "Here you will learn the secret to my success." There's a light murmuring in the mob at those words. Hook. "I should start with myself, before revealing more about why this place has made me a force to be reckoned with." He walks around the circular room, stopping next to a rack of kettlebells. "Pop quiz, who am I?"

There's a stunned silence, before a reporter holding an iPad opens his mouth. "You're Connor Reese." There's almost a note of mocking in that voice. He would enjoy poking a hole in that one's ego.

"You have an excellent grasp of the obvious." The rest of the hacks laugh at that. "What else do you know about me?"

Affronted, the man instantly responds. "You’re a naturally gifted athlete who..."

Line. "Hold it there." Reese walks towards the ring in the centre of The Circus and immediately turns to the pack, which spreads out around the ring."You think that I'm a 'naturally gifted' athlete? I have a brother. Any of you know that?" Silence, naturally. Why would Alexander want his less than impressive family to be public knowledge?" Of course not. He's not a three time All-American. He's a type 2 diabetic who hasn't been in a gym since the Clinton administration. Is he a 'naturally gifted' fatass? Hell no!" He climbs the turnbuckle. "There's no such thing as a 'naturally gifted' athlete. The only people who buy into that are those looking for an excuse for why they're worse than people like me at any sport you can name." Reese dismounts the turnbuckle, removing the jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him, his shirt quickly follows.

"How much of this do you think is natural. Anyone?" He waits a few moments. No takers. "No, I didn't think so. You want to know why I was a three time All American? Because I worked damn hard. Everything I have, I earned with hours of busting my ass day in and day out. I competed in NCAA cross country races with ribs I broke two days before in football practice. I didn't go crying to my coach afterwards complaining that breathing felt like inhaling fire. My opponents did though. Tried to get me busted for steroids. I didn't need a crutch to beat whiny, excuse making athletes like them." The scorn in his voice as he recalled those competitors is palpable. "I'm not the future of professional wrestling because I'm naturally gifted. Hell, I'm not the future because I'm athletic. I am the future because I'm the antithesis of what it has become. The sport I love has become a showground for guys like Dave Cougar or Titus. People who aren't wrestlers. You think people cheer for Showtime because of his matches? Don't fool yourself. They cheer for him because they remember how funny "The Show" was. If you think people still talk about Red Mask with fondness because of the Red Comet, you're delusional. They remember it because Titus is an entertaining sonofabitch and a good enough actor that people started buying into him as a real life Super Hero." He takes a deep breath, as if to calm himself, though he is perfectly calm. Just because he was rallying against 'entertainers' is no excuse abandon theatrics when playing to the cameras. "Ace Stevens is the embodiment of this. He's not a wrestler, he's a stand up comic who took his act to the ring, and that pisses me off. I'm not like that. I'm not an entertainer. I'm not going to climb the ladder by using a time machine to mock Everest. I'm not going to save my career by relocating to Kansas. And I'm certainly not going to crack any jokes. I'm going to end this era by doing what I do best. Win. The days of entertainers playing wrestler are coming to an end." He walks forward, leaning into the nearest video camera. "WZCW, you've been warned." Silence.

"What about your match this week with S.H.I.T.?"

"Oh, is he my opponent? I hadn't even thought about this week's match. This is a speed bump in my road to my Mayhem Championship win. Win, lose or draw I will defeat Ace Stevens at Apocalypse. I'm no expert on S.H.I.T., but I've seen enough of him to know that he's a bona fide war machine." He smirks. "And I know a thing or two about wrestling a war machine..." Sinker.

"Wilkommen, zum den Zircus Wunderbar!"