AoN: Mikey Stormrage vs. Mason Westhoff

[Kermit]

This is a gateway match for Mikey Stormrage. As many have witnessed, Mikey has been on warpath ever since his partner James Howard fell victim to Grand Mystique and The New Church. Now, as punishment for his continued disruptions, Mikey will have to go through Westhoff first before he can finally sink his teeth into Mystique. However, General Manager Big Dave also wanted to punish The New Church for their actions. Therefore he is going to allow Stormrage the pleasure of fighting Mystique in the confines of a Steel Cage if he can get past the cunning Westhoff.

NOTE: Grand Mystique must submit his RP in this match. Mikey Stormrage's RP against Westhoff will be used against Grand Mystique should he win the first match.

Deadline is Tuesday February 19, 2013 at 11:59 PM (Central). Extensions as per thread.​

 

[Viola Moonlight]

Grand Mystique has been granted a 24 hour extension.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

The rustling and crunching of dry leaves broke the stillness in the cold air. We had been walking for a few minutes, but already the cold air was biting at our faces.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" The voice of Leon Kensworth was barely audible above the leaves.

I stopped walking and placed my hand on Leon, using my free hand to signal the cameraman with us to stop as well. "Don't worry about it, nothing will go wrong man."

I continued walking, but Leon remained in place. "Well what we are doing is technically illegal."

"It is only illegal if you don't have a permit, and you get caught. That is why I picked the spot I did. Now come on, we are almost there."

"Do you have a permit?"

"No, I have never done this before. The idea came to me in a dream."

Leon and the cameraman picked up their pace to catch up with me. After a few more minutes of walking through the forest we came upon a building at the edge of a clearing. We approached the door, but Leon was once again apprehensive.

"I'm still not convinced this is a good idea." The nervousness in his voice was apparent.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Trust me Leon, the boss wouldn't let me bring you out here if you were going to die."

I nodded my head to signal the camera man to follow me. I slowly opened the door, not completely sure what I expected myself. Instantly the eyes of an entire congregation were upon us. I scanned the room quickly, my eyes shifting back and forth, until I found an empty pew at the back of the room. Leon and the cameraman took a seat next to me and after a few more awkward stares the preacher began his sermon again.

As he stood in front of his congregation, dressed in a sharp white suit, his heavy southern accent boomed through the microphone. "As I was saying, you must have faith in the Almighty! Through the Almighty all things are possible! He can heal the sick, he can make the blind see again! I'll say it again, all things are possible through the Almighty! If you have sin in your heart, you must confess and replace those sins with the love of the Almighty! For those who do not accept the love and glory of Him, shall forever burn in an Apocalypse of Hell fire!"

Apocalypse, fitting that my current troubles started at an event bearing that name. I did my best to get comfortable, Leon was still looking nervous. The preacher took a short break to get a drink of water from his podium before he continued.

"I stand before you today, full of the love and protection of the Almighty! I know that so long as I have him in my heart, I can not be harmed by the Devil creatures of this world! Can I get an amen?"

Many people in the room erupted in unison with an "amen" while some others began to stand, arms raised high singing their praises. One man stood and began to walk toward the stage, as if drawn by an unseen force. He began to speak in an incomprehensible language as he walked. Then another followed. Soon four or five people were drawn to the stage, speaking in tongues.

"These souls are filled with the love of the Almighty! His love conquers all and he can..."The preacher himself began to speak in tongues.

Almost on cue two men in the front row stood up and walked to the stage. They knelt beside a small table and each removed a box. They opened the lid of the box and each pulled out an angry rattlesnake. They handed them to the preacher who continued to speak as if possessed. They returned to the table and produced two more boxes, again filled with venomous snakes. They continued this until everyone in front of the stage had a snake in their hands.

I looked at Leon, who was sweating he was so nervous. "Is this great or what?"

"These people are crazy! No wonder this is illegal."

I rolled my eyes at Leon as the preacher resumed his sermon, still handling the dangerous serpent. "Is there anyone who wants to be filled with the love of the Almighty? Those who are filled with his love can accomplish all things!"

I stood up and grabbed Leon by the arm. "Come on, lets go be filled with His love." I pointed at the cameraman. "Make sure you get all this."

As we approached, Leon fighting me the whole way, I spoke up. "I want to feel the Almighty. I want him to help me fulfill my desires."

We stood on stage, Leon keeping his distance from the reptiles. "To receive the blessing of the Almighty, you must confess the sins in your heart! Tell me and tell Him, have you sinned?"

I nodded my head. "I have sinned! I have been slothful! I have been lustful! I have consumed the Devil's nectar! I have hurt those who claim to follow the Almighty! I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I knew it was in me. I tried to fight it, but they brought it out of me!"

"Hallelujah! Let the grace of the Almighty flow through this man! The preacher slapped me on the forehead and handed me one of the snakes. I was nervous, but took the snake into my hands. The preacher then turned his attention to Leon. "What of you sir? Do you want to feel His love?"

Leon stuttered over his words. "I...I guess."

"Then confess to me your sins!"

Leon thought for a moment. "I can't really think of anything, I usually spent most of my time being harassed and beaten up by people I'm supposed to interview. Last time I was around animals a baby giraffe nearly trampled me to death."

"Then accept His love!" The preacher smacked Leon before handing him one of the snakes. He nervously took it into his hands, but squeezed too tightly, causing the snake to bite him on the hand.

"Oh shit!" I yelled dropping my snake, kneeling next to Leon. "Dude, you should have confessed your sins, that would have never happened."

Most people in the front few rows who weren't already handling snakes quickly retreating to the back of the room or stood on top of their pews as the snake crawled around on the ground.

"What are you talking about? I haven't sinned!" he screamed in agony as he held his hand.

The preacher stood over us, glaring down at Leon. "Do not lie to me in the presence of the Almighty! Confess your sins if you wish for him to protect you now!"

Leon continued screaming. "Yes it is true, I have pleasured myself to images of Celeste Crimson. I have sinned!"

I looked at the preacher. "He is telling the truth, I looked through his phone on the drive over."

"Then let this man be healed!" The preacher brought his hand down hard over the snake bite, causing Leon to cry out in pain.

I walked over to the cameraman laughing. "Can you believe this? This is awesome. This has been so worth it." I looked back to check on Leon. "We better get him some real help."

As the cameraman and I helped Leon back to the car I took the cameraman aside. "You still got tape?"

He nodded, before pressing record. "Make sure Westhoff and Mystique get this. I have cleansed myself of my sins. I am pure. You two are nothing more than false prophets. The fancy robes, the mask, the sneak attacks, they are nothing but window dressing. It has all been for show because you can't hang with me. Fancy bells and whistles to cover up your own sin, the sin of underestimating me. I may not be much to look at, but you are in for a world of hurt. Don't believe me? Ask The Beard, I suplexed him off a ladder at Kingdom Come. I have crashed through tables, only to rise and conquer my own fears to capture gold. I crushed Saboteur multiple times without remorse to get back the gold I so coveted. I have no issue with those men, and you have seen what I did to them. I have endured your attacks, I have suffered at your hands, and have dealt with loss because of you. I have a reason to hurt you. You can't keep me down, I have bounced back from each attack. Westhoff, you better hope you kill me in that ring, because if not, I will not quit. I will end you, and when I am finished with your stooge, I am coming for you Mystique. You can't run from me anymore. You will feel the weight of your sins when I crush you beneath my feet like the piss ants you are. I am going to watch your worlds burn and then I will dance upon the ashes!"

 

[Thriller Ant]

The past few weeks have been some of the toughest of my life. My church, my life’s work, was reduced to a pile of ash and rubble. Brother Jacobs and I lost in the Tag Team Championship tournament, leaving my attempt at becoming a tag team champion unsuccessful. Most recently, we received word that Brother Jacobs might not ever wrestle again due to repeated concussions. Here I stood, in the middle of the night in an abandoned parking lot in between nowhere and somewhere with a camera and a lot of explaining I needed to do.

The New Church is dead.

As the words escaped my lips, serenity came over me. The depression, anger, frustration; all of them were gone. I was never one to believe that The Almighty gave second chances, but I could not deny that I was getting one.

When I arrived in WZCW and joined forces with Brother Jacobs to form The New Church, we had goals beyond wins and losses inside the ring. We wanted to show the WZCW fans and wrestlers the power of The Almighty and the path to salvation. That was, of course, until we united with Grand Mystique. He helped us to realize that the uncultured swine that sit in those seats and back here in the locker room are beyond their own help.

Even though I improved every time I stepped into the ring, I have always known that I will never be as comfortable wrestling as I am preaching the words of The Almighty. I’ve been quiet for a couple weeks, but speaking now brings back any self-confidence The Bearded Gentlemen may have taken. My words have always been my greatest strength and it was time to use them again.

Joe Mason was the first. We had both Steamboat Ricky and Grand Mystique claiming to be prophets from The Almighty, so we appeased them both. Ricky was rid of the leech WZCW assigned him and Mystique won an important match.

The night we took out Joe Mason is one I will always remember fondly, even if Brother Jacobs is no longer able to. We were being overlooked by most of the roster and there is nothing that offends me more than being overlooked. Joe Mason may have had the potential to be something in WZCW, but that night, Brother Jacobs and I permanently relegated him to a minor footnote in the history of this company.

Everyone thinks that Mikey Stormrage was next, but Brother Jacobs and I had nothing to do with that. Grand Mystique was very hands on in making everything come together, even as we started to move closer toward working with Ricky.

Looking back, I can see how naïve I was. There was no way that Steamboat Ricky could have been the one I was searching for. I let my foolish hunt cloud my judgment. Grand Mystique has cleared my sight on many things, but I should not have needed him for this one.

Finally, at Unscripted, it all came together. Steamboat Ricky became the second and James Howard was the third.

Unscripted will always rank among the proudest days of my life. That night, I believe, showed the true beauty and power of our trio. On one hand is Steamboat Ricky, a false prophet that was punished for his sins. On the other is James Howard, a man that took his growing family for granted and was sacrificed as an example. In one night, we were able to take care of our own business and sacrifice a man for the benefit of all of those watching.

The only person left standing that we’ve targeted is the glutton, Mikey Stormrage. Not just in the way that has made him into a repulsive tub of lard, but also in the way he eats up sympathy from everyone. If he really was concerned about James Howard’s well-being, he would’ve broken away from Grand Mystique and saved him. Or, even better, told Mr. Howard to go home and be with his family, like a true friend would have done. Mikey Stormrage could have prevented what happened, but instead, is using it to his advantage.

Mikey Stormrage had been a much more formidable opponent than Grand Mystique or I had anticipated. He came back incredibly quickly from Grand Mystique’s attack and managed to stay strong both physically and mentally despite our efforts to break him. As pathetic as their support is, the fans are definitely helping him. For now.

This Sunday at All or Nothing, it comes to an end. No more gluttony. No more Strikeforce. No more Mikey Stormrage. They say that in wrestling there are many times when wins and losses don’t matter. This Sunday, my job is not to win my match. I will sacrifice myself in order for Mikey Stormrage to be sacrificed at the hands of Grand Mystique inside a steel cage.

I know The Almighty had led me to cross paths with Grand Mystique for a reason. As I spoke our mission, I felt a pride and happiness that I hadn’t felt in years. Thanks to Grand Mystique, I truly am saying and doing what The Almighty has intended for me, and there is no greater feeling than that.

There’s a couple days left before the show. Mr. Stormrage, I want you to go to anyone important in your life and tell them as much. Before you leave for the show on Sunday, I want you to eat your favorite meal, which I’m sure will take you hours to complete. I want you to be as satisfied with your life as you can be because at All or Nothing, Grand Mystique and I will finish the job and make sure you join Joe Mason, Steamboat Ricky, and your partner, James Howard upon The Sacrificial Altar.

 

[a0161613]

“I don’t see why Austin Reynolds of all people gets the red carpet treatment.”

Mason Westhoff and The Grand Mystique cast a foreboding presence as they walk backstage at All or Nothing. Westhoff is a picture of piety in his priestly vestments while GM is ominous and hunched over in a hooded outfit.

“The guy is the worst kind of loser, a waste of space who never achieved half of what he could have. On your return you achieved what he could never do and beat David Cougar, the World Champion. That alone proves that he is not worthy of the hero worship he receives from some here.”

“He would make a fine sacrifice, we could make our presence known in the World Championship match. He wouldn’t even be a factor. We are better than Mikey Stormrage and the other reprobates who we are being forced to compete with.”

The Grand Mystique, until now a solemn and silent force, now growls in a low voice that Brother can barely hear him.

“Austin Reynolds is an insolent prick but he is not a factor in our cause. He will never be able to stop our progress. He is not the immovable object to me that he once was.”

“To you? Wait...”

The priest looks intrigued. There is no shock, for there was much that Westhoff was left to find out about his leader.

“Brother Westhoff, the time is near. We need to prepare to bring our sacrifice to the altar. We must focus.”

GM continues to walk off, while Westhoff seems more than a little put off by this revelation until he smiles a little and nods.
____________
XXXXXXXXXXXX

Five years ago...

“Faster.....GO!”

We hear a steady rhythm of pounding footsteps on a canvas and then a loud slam before the instruction is barked again. The footsteps come back before another slam on the mat. We see a group of young men taking turns to run the rope of a wrestling ring. One more muscular man watches on, yelling and instructing one by one, the youths run by him, hit the ropes and run towards him where he hits an arm drag, where he plants them in the dead centre of the ring. Having just been dropped hard in the ring, one of the youngsters bounces back up and gets in the face of the large man.

“I can do this all day. Let’s do something more exciting already.”

“Fine, hit me with your best Reynolds, you cocky little shit.”

He shoves the young Reynolds away into a beast of another man who stands behind him who is just as youthful but much taller and stands over him ominously, as he waits his turn. The two youngsters have a short lived staredown before the much larger youngster stands back. Reynolds comes right back at the instructor, he ducks his first charge and the youngster springboards off the middle ropes, flips backwards into the middle of the ring and behind the larger man where he hits a rolling cutter! The young men watch on enthralled as the instructor recovers, his face a beetroot red mix of shock, embarrassment and pain. He stands up as quickly as he can, going eye to eye with the arrogant youngster.

“Austin, get over here. Now!”

The young lad bounds out of the ring and over to an older man who wears a smart suit.

“Boss, you need to get someone who is not better than the guys that they are training.”

“Enough Austin. I’ll deal with that later. We need to talk.”

The older man leads Austin into a small room where a young looking Chuck Myles is already in there. Austin sits down without taking the eye of the man already in the room.

“This is Chuck Myles of WZCW. He’s here because they have taken an interest in you.” Austin smirks as if to demonstrate his confidence in being scouted by the massive wrestling company. “They’d like to see you in action in the States to see what you can do.”

“Of course.”

“Austin, have you ever wrestled in a mask?”

The three men continue their meeting in the small room and neither of them catch sight of the giant who jealously watches on through the glass window that separates the office from the gym outside.

Four years later at the first Lethal Lottery at Skydome...

The Grand Mystique is eliminated after a spectacular but record short entry into the Lethal Lottery match. When he gets backstage, he rips off his shirt and his mask to reveal a much younger Austin Reynolds, he throws his vest to the floor.

“God damnit! That is a damn cluster out there! Will is going into business for himself! Nobody knows what they are doing!”

A few agents approach him and try to usher him away but he will not be silenced as he spots Chuck Myles watching a monitor intently.

“Chuck....Boss!”

“Not now Austin. I’ve not got the time for you right now!”

“You’re a god damn prick Myles, you know that?”

A few more agents come by and push Austin away. Austin gets free for a second and launches his mask at Myles, it lands at the feet of the General Manager who doesn’t give it a second look.

____________
XXXXXXXXXXXX

We see a pair of eyes in front of a set of dancing candles.

“The man that was the Grand Mystique in WZCW was an impostor. He hid behind a facade; he cowered behind the misunderstanding of destiny and fortune. And he became one of the biggest heroes in WZCW. That man, Austin Reynolds, has returned and his mere presence makes me sick because of all the heroes in WZCW, Reynolds represents the falsest of idols.”

The flames flicker and dance playfully in the eyes though the words are anything but.

“He hid his past from the fans and even at his worst, he never mentioned what he had previously achieved. He hid behind a smokescreen, a disguise that allowed him to revel in the role of heroism. Only when faced with evil and Chaos, did he succumb and fall apart.”

The eyes blink once more and then close, extinguishing the flame permanently
____________
XXXXXXXXXXXX

Three months later at the first Kingdom Come at the Florida Citrus Bowl...

The Grand Mystique has another brief showing in the original King for a Day match. It was an uninspiring performance in an insipid match that had become a-typical of the product that was being produced at the time. When he reaches the gorilla area, he once again vents his frustration at the nearest people that he sees.

“This is it! I’ve had enough.”

Chuck Myles storms up to the frustrated young superstar.

“Austin, calm down!”

“This company has no idea! I can’t polish turds boss man! I’ve had it up to here!”

“That’s enough!”

“No, it’s not! You know what? I hate it, I hate the fed, I can’t stand the idiots who are being pushed to the top and above all, I hate, I detest this mask!”

With that, the sparkling disguise is ripped off his face and shoved into the chest of Chuck Myles. Austin walks away as Myles contemplates his next moves but before Austin makes it for him.

“I quit. Consider this my notice. No more crystal balls, no more prophecies, I’m done after Redemption.”

Myles toys with the mask, moving it around in his hand before he focuses on the image above the eyes.
____________
XXXXXXXXXXXX

We see the Grand Mystique alongside Mason Westhoff and a third druid-like character who is shrouded and hidden. All three wear identical robe-like outfits. The room is dark but a dark oak altar can be seen in the dim light. GM steps forward and produces a crystal ball from his sleeves.

“Mikey Stormrage didn’t choose to face evil like Austin did. The evil picked him and dragged him out of the ordinary. Strikeforce didn’t deserve to be the target of the most dominant actions of my brothers and I. Mikey doesn’t have what it takes to be a hero. That very basic of traits is why he and Strikeforce were the first victims of The New Church that was led by The Grand Mystique.”

He turns and climbs the altar. He places the crystal orb in front of him where it seems to float in the darkness.

“But The New Church is dead; the organism that destroyed James Howard and forced Mikey to watch my brothers feast at the table of champions has evolved. The remnants of Strikeforce gave us the energy to fuel a development that will cleanse WZCW in our image.”

Mason steps onto the side of the altar.

“The signal of that change was the destruction of the Bridge to Salvation Church in Texarkana.”

The hooded shadow steps on to the structure. All three men place a hand on the crystal ball and the orb begins to glow.

“On the night that is an anniversary of Strikeforce’s destruction, we have to finish our feast and complete the evolution. A steel cage is beyond the perfect setting as we will be forced to survive.

The unidentified figure growls in such a low tone, almost inaudibly so. Mason and The Grand Mystique look on admirably before GM moves to continue.

“Once my brothers and I are finished with Mikey Stormrage, Strikeforce will barely resemble an idea consigned to history. Let this be a reminder of what being a hero can do for you. Strikeforce are the first of many to be laid at The Sacrificial Altar...”

The two men either side of The Grand Mystique remove their hands.

“Of the Father,” GM raises his hand in the air, allowing the orb to float. “The Son,” He moves his arm down and then across. “And Holy Spirit.”

The orb drops to the floor and the lights cut out but the deep growl of The Grand Mystique can be heard uttering one last sentence.

“May someone have mercy on Mikey Stormrage, because we will not.”