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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Second Chance RP Board
Hope
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Chris Chaos Offline
Corporate Chaos



XWF FanBase:
Very random

(heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)


#1
05-21-2018, 09:34 PM

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The opening avatar came on the screen--dark and bleak, showing a man in a full trench coat walking down an alley, with shots of Chris blending in and out.

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Then the scene cuts to pristine Clearwater Beach, Florida. It shows Pier 60, the cocaine white sand, the greenish hue of the Gulf rolling in. Arial view. It took us over the city of Clearwater and over the Courtney Campbell Bridge, into Tampa.

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The skyline of Tampa is now visible as music plays in the background, light enough to be notice but soft enough not to distract the viewer from what is going on in the picture. It passed by some historic buildings in Ybor City, one of the oldest and most stories districts in the entire city.

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It circled around the city as THE X-TREME WRESTLING FEDERATION PRESENTS: shows up on the screen. Street signs from inner Tampa are shown as it moves away from the city, towards Pasco County.

Finally, it cuts to Chris, taking off his sunglasses and looking into the camera as the scene fades to black.

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THE CHRIS CHAOS SHOW


EPISODE 9

Hope.

Mezian.....oh, Mezian. We meet again. The first ass kicking wasn't enough I suppose. I am more perplexed by how you are the number one contender still after our last tango than I am by why you're still in the company, honestly. I mean, what do you get out of even being here? What do you get out of being in the deep end of the pool without your floaties? You aren't on my level, I have proven that more times than I can count on all of my appendages, but you still keep coming back like an overzealous mosquito. A gnat. You are more useless than GT's Bowflex, but yet you continue to fight on and get yourself in a position to be embarrassed. Why bother even fighting? You're never going to be main event level, so no matter how many victories over even worse talent add up, the path is only going to lead back to me. It is a dead end for you, Mez. You may as well dye your hair back to normal human society standards and hang up those boots because I am going to keep beating you down like a dog every time if you don't. So I am going to walk out yet another XWF show the way I walked in, a double champion and one of the best this company has ever seen. You're going to walk out the same way you walked in also, the most overrated joke perhaps ever. Someone who gets spoon fed title opportunities he doesn't deserve and coming up short. I mean, look at what I did to Finn Kuhn. He is twice the woman you are. Now, Finn has an opportunity to lose again in big match fashion, this time to The Engineer. So, maybe I am wrong here, maybe being just good enough to matter is worth something here. Maybe there is a system in place where under-card "stars" are given hope against the cream of the crop. Maybe there is something to this entire thing, and maybe hope is all you are worth. Maybe hope is enough to get some people by. Maybe hope is all you need. Let me tell you this right now....and take my word however you wish.........

Hope is ALL you have.

Hope that one day you won't be a total waste of life. Hope that Chris Chaos won't hurt you as badly as I am cable of. Hope that maybe one day someone will say "damn...well, at least Mezian tried his hardest!" Because you have about as much of a chance of walking out of this match as the champion as Finn Kuhn has of not telling us how German he is in a promo. Do you know how often that is? Fuck, I think Hitler told people less.

Either way, Mez, this match does not shape up well for you. It is not a good matchup. It is an impossible task to ask of you. George Michael once famously said "Ain't no mountain high enough......."

George Michael was a fucking idiot. Probably some damn liberal pole smoker. There ARE mountains that are too high, and you holding any credible title in this business, and beating ME for it, is one of those mountains. I am Mount fucking Everest, Mez. But you keep getting up, so I guess that is admirable. Or . One or the other. Both? It's almost like I feel bad for you. Almost. Part of me wants to let you cling to that hope just a bit longer, but the other part of me wants to crush you under my boot like the cockroach that you are. The insect that just won't die. The infectious tick in the flesh of professional wrestling. No matter how much bug spray I douse you with, you're a resilient little fuck. So come at me, come try to take this title from me, and get shot down. Come at me for the second title match, and lose even worse than the first time. I admire your heart, but I pity your skillset. I am Rocky, you're Apollo Creed. You may have been good once, but all anyone remembers is you losing.

In the words of Ivan Drago...."if he dies, he dies." If you die out there, Mez, at this point, I may be doing you a favor.


Have you ever seen one of those guys, standing on the corner with their signs? Of course you have, but do you ever take the time to read the signs? No, because nobody ever does. Nobody sees the deeper meaning in anything anymore. Everyone is only in this world for themselves. That sign could literally say ANYTHING, but you just assume it is a pitiful plea from a broken down loser or some sort of scam to weasel guilty white American's out of money. Nobody ever goes on the other side, wondering what it is like to hold that sign. Nobody ever wonders how hope really feels. Hoping someone will pay, whether they need it or not, is all they have to cling to. They can't force you to pay them, but they can all but beg. These people always interested Chris. Lowering themselves to pandering at the level of the lowest common denominator, stomping on pride and pushing ego far to the side. In days before, darker days, Chris would drive right by these people, spitting out the window and hoping the breeze delivered it to their forehead. These people used to disgust him. Now, they intrigued him. He wondered what made them tick, why they were who they were. Why they did what they did.

Driving around on this particular afternoon, he just wanted to get out of the house. Jenny had been acting batty lately, ever since the failure against Mandii and the battle royal elimination last week----she had gone off the rails. She was in the deep end without her floaties. If she wasn't bitching about every little thing possible, she was sitting in their room, in the dark, staring at the wall. She was batshit crazy. She just wasn't the girl that he knew just a few short months ago. All because Mandii Rider was here.

Regardless, he figured a quest like the old days would be good for him. He wanted to find one of these creatures.


The Jeep's motor hummed along. He was just getting over the Courtney Campbell Bridge and into "Tampa". This wasn't quite downtown and was still considered quite the affluent area, down by the bay, with real estate costs some of the highest in the city. It is crazy what people will pay for a view of the water, even if it is just a bay. He knew he would find some of these interesting critters around here, as they wanted the wealthy people coming home from work to see their hopelessness. They hoped, there is that word again, that some of these people would share their hard earned money with them.

They wouldn't.

It didn't take Chris long to spot one of these degenerates. He pulled the Jeep over to the shoulder and rolled down the window, the AC racing out into the hot, stagnant air.


"Hey, broski, come here".

The man looked at Chris, and he smiled a yellow toothed grin. Chris felt himself puke a little, but he choked it back. This dude was a sad sack of shit, for sure. They all were.

The man cut through three lanes of traffic to come over. Finally, he reached the window.


"Whats your sign say there, bub?"

The man showed it to him. It looked like a toddler wrote it. Most of the words were spelled wrong and the handwriting looked like he was mid-seizure while writing it. "Homeless. Need food. Please help."

Chris sighed.

"So what are you looking for? Money? Food? Beer?"

The man shrugged, he would take anything Chris was willing to offer.

"I--sir--thank you--I will take anything"

His breath was as bad as Chris anticipated.

Chris opened the door, getting out of the Jeep. "Let me ask you something, brosef."

He took the sign from the man and laid it on the hood.

"Why do you stand here everyday and hope these fuckboi's and thots, because lets face it thats all Florida has, will pay attention enough to you to read that sign? I mean, for real? Do you think these people will actually help you? They only care about themselves bro. You need to do the same. Why don't you go get a job? Fuck, I think Checkers is hiring."

The man looked at him for a moment, his leathery skin around his eyes squinting in the Florida sun.

"I can't do nothin, sir. I have no skills."

"That sounds like an excuse to me" Chris said. "I think you can do anything you set your mind to. Here is what I think: you have given up on any sort of life, and have resigned to the hope that people are inherently good. Let me tell you something, people aren't good. People are generally evil. The longer you wait for them to give a shit the more hurt you're going to get."

The man seemed to comprehend, but Chris didn't bank on it.

"You have given up. You just go through the motions every day, but do nothing to better yourself."

The man nodded, looking at the ground.

"You know, you remind me of this guy I know. He goes by Mezian. Stupid name, right? Well he's a stupid guy. Let me tell you a little about him, then a little about me. Maybe this will help put shit into perspective for you......."

Chris clears his throat.

"Mezian has mailed it in. He keeps getting opportunities to make life better for himself, but he never takes the chance to run with it. He just comes in, walks around the ring, takes the pin fall and gets other guys over. Mezian has become a punching bag in the wrestling world........but he didn't have to be.......just look at it this way.........your name is?"

"Griffin."

"Gay. Ok Griffin, look at it this way. I was once a Mezian. A terrible, slime-ridden creature dwelling in the depths of mental hell. I lost my Universal Title......"

The man, obviously following loosely, then asked "welp, did ya find it?"

Chris looked at him less than amused.

"No, Griffindor. I didn't. And every match I had for it, whether directly for it or to qualify for it, I got screwed out of it somehow. I hit a bad place, I didn't know my self worth anymore. I thought my career, my life, was over."

The man burped and scratched his head.

"So...uh....what did ya do?"

"Well, I wallowed in it for a bit but then I became whole. I found myself, found who I was, and realized that even if I start back at the bottom and work my way back up, it is better than completely giving up. Now look at me. I am the company's ONLY double-champion, I just pinned the Universal Champion on national television and I carried Peter Gilmour to a tag team championship! Peter Gilmour! Do you know who that is?!"

The man scratched his scruff.

"I think I heard that name before."

"Think of a potato with arms and legs. A Manatee in wrestling tights. If I can carry Peter to a title, I can do anything! If you put your mind to it, you can do anything too!"

The man cocked his head.

"You are still hoping I give you money aren't you?"

The man nodded.

"Some people never learn."

He got back in his car and on his way out he tossed a 100 stack of singles at the man.

"Hope only gets you so far old man. Mezian will learn the same thing Sunday Night."

He speeds off leaving the man beaming.........until his money....and his hope.....ran out.

END SHOW
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[-] The following 2 users Like Chris Chaos's post:
"The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler (05-22-2018), Finn Kühn (05-22-2018)




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