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>Systematic solutions. The basis for every problem solved by human beings. We analyze. We use tools to make determinations. Facts to make decisions. All of this pales in comparison to the paradox at hand. Can Gabe Reno, with all of the tools at his disposal, dispose of the two men who currently light up the XWF with gold and conquered recent conquests? Of course he can. Potential is what you do with it. No one walking backstage had more potential than 'The Radical'. Everyone knows that if he can keep his emotions in check just long enough, that he can be the best in the entire place. But the internal battle weighs on. Can he actually do that? Will he do it? Wednesday Night Warfare will tell the ultimate tale for Reno. He will be banished forever into the eternal hull of losers who could'a should'a. Or he will rise to what he should have always been, and defeat the very aspects that have already tried to take him down a notch. Chaos and Nixon have scored individual matches over this very Radical. But together, they almost pose less of a threat, how can that be? Because Gabe Reno backs down from no challenge. And the bigger the challenge, the more he shows up to decipher the wheat from the chaff. The right from the wrong. The pretenders from the contenders. It is a formula as true as time. and this time, the formula will announce itself undoubtedly to the masses. Gabe Reno isn't just here to talk, here's here to win.<
☆ "SYSTEMATIC" ☆
Gabe Reno sits in his breakfast nook, dressed well with a bag packed next to him, as if ready to leave after a bite. He is looking over the morning paper with bulging eyes from the angle created by his reading glasses. His cat gets up on the table to get a sip of the milk in his cereal; Gabe pushes it off the table. He switches from the scores of the weekend's football playoffs, to a full page ad commemorating the unique experience that will be Warfare on a Cruise Ship. The article states that it make be a dangerous stunt finally taken too far by a place that has been pushing the boundaries for years and could finally fall in its own muck. Reno chuckles and takes a sip of orange juice. He turns the page, seeing quotes from various backstage personalities about their thoughts. Most feel the event will be safe, as long as they avoid ice bergs and Vince isn't driving. Reno's eyes scroll down to a few quotes taken from a Chris Chaos promotion. Immediately, his eyes like a firefly can't resist the urge to look.
"As long as I have this 20 pound hunk of precious metal over my shoulder, I AM THE ALPHA MALE. I am the top dog here. No match is going to define that until someone beats me for this belt."
Well, it looks like Mr.Chaos is over there ego-trippin' again. WHat a surprise... right Mr.Kitty? Ya know, someone should tell him that while this is a non-title match, that if he loses it paves the way for Nixon or yours truly to get an automatic bid in a title match after beating the reigning champion. I guess Chaos doesn't want to hear that. I guess he is fine going around giving quotes about how ALPHA he is to every low life who will listen. Because low life's are the only ones who wish to be him, who admire him enough to sing his praises. The rest of us looks at his victories as circumstantial, and see it as only a short matter of time until he becomes another Scully... or Gilmore... one of the shortest tenured Universal Champions in XWF history. I guess he thinks it is better to be in the history books that to face that stark reality. But on that Cruise ship... he will have no other choice... as someone else's hand will be raised, and he sits in self pity, wondering how this could have happened.
His eyes scroll to the next quote, while the cat hops back up and starts drinking the milk from the cereal bowl with him intently distracted.
"Every Gabe Reno and Thomas Nixon this company has will see me as a target. See me as weak. And the fact that I haven't wasted time spewing out useless promo's about how my sub par competition is "main event level" and how cool dragons and unicorns are that I am for some reason scared. Nervous. Jittery. Hell no. I am simply not going to do exactly that, "waste time". When you are in my shoes, you say what you want, when you want. The difference between me and these two clowns is that when I speak, people actually listen. Gabe Reno's nonsense promo's are cute..."
About as cute as your blind ignorance to the matter at hand. It cracks me up that Nixon and Chaos all week have sat on their thrown's... talking about all their past accomplishments as if they serve any purpose to prove who will win this match. Meanwhile Nixon gets blindsided by Jim Caedus and loses the Television Championship he spent ten days trying to say made him whole and he would be the ultimate respect maker for. That it would be the best title known in XWF after his long time as ball carrier in the XWF football league. Yet, where is that Championship now... draped over the shoulder of a newcomer... far from the grasp of the very man who claimed to be transcending its value. Words are a funny thing. Especially when someone forces you to eat them. I don't plan on eating my words at Warfare, but I do plan on quite the feast. Because there is no way come hell or high water that I will walk out any less than victorious. Avenging two loses at once, and again proving that when I am on my game, I am one simple phrase... the very best, nothing more, and nothing FUCKING LESS! That is what I came to XWF to do, and by God, one way or another, I will get that Universal strap on my waist, and I will make the Erratic Enigma the only thing people remember about this match. "Who were those two guys who faded away after that match on a Cruise Ship again 'The Radical', I can't recall." That's because no one will be able to. They will be footnotes in my story. AT BEST.
He see's the cat sipping milk and says "fuck it", gazing to the next quote, toward the bottom of the page. He eyes light up. He springs out of the breakfast nook with a fiery demeanor.
"You would think, in Gabe Reno's case, that this was a speed race. Whoever puts out the most promo's wins. That would be false. It is what happens in the ring that decides fates. In the ring I am nearly flawless. In the ring he is still trying to find his way. He is a lost little boy."
Well, not all of us can go on and on saying the say shit for hours until the audience falls into a deep hibernation. I guess my ability to captivate a crowd, as noted by both you and Thomas Nixon would only serve to prove the opposite of your half assed desperate point. I do what needs to be done. If that means promo's, if that means wrestling, if that means running into your house and setting the entire place A FUCKING BLAZE! WOOOO! I will do it. Because I possess the thing that neither of you ever can. True charismatic pride. I can take my licks and keep on ticking, better, and stronger. You don't hear me like Thomas Nixon crying about losing a belt that was my identity. My identity, who I am at the core, if far more engrained that the sad state you two chums find yourselves in heading onto that Cruise Ship. You will get into your rooms... try to relax. But in the back you your minds, you both know that the end is coming just as quickly as the beginning did. You can rise quickly in XWF... until someone slaps an entire humble pie in your face. Gentleman... you are looking at that humble pie. I am the be all, end all of erratic behavior. It works for me, and against me. BUT IT SURE AS HELL WORKS AGAINST YOU! You never know where I will be or which version will show up... but every once and a while, when the moon is just right... 'The Radical' awakes and decides to punish the people who hold XWF hostage by touting their accomplishments like teenage girls over everyone else. You will lose this match. You will plummet down the ranks faster than an Oregon football player during conditioning. You will learn the meaning of being HUMBLED! I will not stop until you do, no matter what it takes. So Chaos... talk you fucking weak circular game that never gets out of first gear. Nixon, say that you are glad again that we are happy you lost. Because happiness will be the furthest thing from either of your minds in a few hours.
He see's one more that he missed just under where his thumb had been holding up the paper.
"Go around me or go over me, that is your choice, but for your long term health I suggest you choose option one. I am not going anywhere, slugger, perhaps I was just waiting for you to come to me. Lying in wait…..like a true predator waiting to ambush his prey…..his favorite prey…….and your blood will be so delicious..."
What kind of narcissistic asshole would threaten to feed on another man's blood? I have seen less denial in the men's room of Thomas Nixon's Viagra spot. Okay, okay, it wasn't real. But you get the picture. It is painting crystal clear. That, my friends, is what it looks like when Chris Chaos is out of juice, out of time, and grasping at straws to fire some kind of comeback in my direction. You've seen better days Chris... certainly that is a fact. But another facts remains. One of true paradox in your scene that you chose to blatantly disregard. You don't have enough to beat me when I am at my best. You don't have the right cards to win this hand. Because the dealer has already seen you turn them over... and he's fucking disgusted. The house always wins in Radical situations. And no amount of chaos will chance the reality that you are less of a man, and less of a wrestler. Those two things will shine brighter than ever at Warfare. People will say Chris Chaos has been exposed. I will provide the blueprint to every hungry man in the back ready and drooling to take your title. You don't have to thank me. But you will fucking bleed. Maybe I will too. You can taste it if it suits your fancy, and apparently it does. But I will pull this out. And you will be out, as ALPHA anything, and a hollow paper champion when people go, "WAIT, this guy is the Champion, still?" Enjoy the hours while they last. Before I beat you until you beg for mercy and from pain start to twitch. From a Radical beating, by the very best, you sarcastic, unruly, pathetic, little... BITCH!
Gabe picks up the bowl from the table and dumps it down the drain. Like Chaos' chances, it swirls around a few cheerios, then eventually gets garbage compacted. Reno walks into the other room, ready to leave for boarding of the ship. He turns and smiles at Mr.Kitty. They share a special moment of victorious refuge in the heart of Nixon and Chaos' torment from a systematic beatdown they never saw coming.
☆
>Radicality unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity, and completes every paradox. <
Check out Backstage Page for full list of XWF achievements.
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