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Chris Chaos · (02-01-2017)

Come. Crashing. Down.

"He who conquers others is strong; He who conquers himself is mighty."---Lao Tzu

It was a sunny day in Clearwater Beach, Florida. Sun is nothing new to a city that set a Guinness Book of World Records for the most consecutive days of sunshine with 361. The sun shines high above the clear, ice blue skies. There isn't a cloud for miles in any direction. Paradise for most, just another day for Chris. The temperature is around 81 degrees. Cars rolled down Mandalay Ave, blasting music. Motorcycles souped up sedans roared. A hot air balloon could be seen in the distance. The stores and shops on Mandalay were preparing for the upcoming spring break, and there were discount signs all over. The gulf was a bluish green and whitecaps broke over the cocaine white beach. Yes indeed, it was another great day in Clearwater, but then again, when isn't it?

We see Chris's 10th floor condo balcony at Belle Harbor, the most exclusive property on the beach. Today was a big day for the beach. Today was the day the Adam's Mark Hotel, a staple hotel and seedy after hours nightclub joint, got demolished in order to make room for newer, nicer real estate. Chris remembered the Adam's Mark fondly. It was right at the pier connecting to the channel that led the inter-coastal to the open Gulf of Mexico. He remembered getting fucked up there on more than one occasion. Their outdoor porch with the lights was awesome, and a great place to pick up chicks.

We see the inside of Chris's luxury condo, as Jenny is in the fridge pulling out a champagne bottle. She has a short skirt on, of course. Her hair was done for the occasion. Her bare feet shuffled on the expensive tile floor as she moved from the fridge to the counter. The camera pans around to see the living room, the entrance to the two bedrooms, and the porch, where Chris sat in his porch chair, feet up, and a cigar in his mouth. A glass ash tray sat on the table next to him. He had a glass of a clear liquid next to that, with a lime. It was clearly a gin and tonic. His drink of choice. Peter Gilmour isn't the only one with nice things. Chris lived in paradise, and he didn't need modern day slaves to keep it up. Everything he had, he earned. And he maintained. He deserved. Tonight, a staple of his younger self was coming down. On Wednesday, a staple of his profession was coming down. Crashing down.

Sometimes when something is a staple---be it of a community, a company, a state, village or country, it is sad to see it fall. Sometimes you know it is coming and agree with it--it was past it's time, it needed to go. Sometimes when something is past it's prime, it has to go, and sometimes you have to be the one to do it. In the case of the Adam's Mark, Chris wasn't the one to do it, but he understood.

Jenny opened the slider door with two glasses of champagne. The sun was setting over the Gulf, and a large group of people had gathered on the beach to watch. Chris could see them from his balcony. They looked like ants from here. Where he sat, he had a prime view. His 60 inch LCDHDTV was on and running. One of the ones that is curved in the middle. It was running an XWF Warfare advertisement. This was going to be huge. Chris took the glass from Jenny and the two toasted.

"So, why is this place coming down such a big deal?"

Chris took a sip, then a puff of his cigar.

"Well, a long time ago, this beach was nothing. It was honkey tonk. It was nothing but bikers and hippies looking to get out of the structure of urban Tampa. There was nothing on this beach. The Adams Mark was the first of the tall hotels at the end of the beach. It symbolized the progression of this place. It symbolized what it has become now, it was a vision."

Jenny takes a sip. The camera is able to get an upskirt shot as the shifts position and re-crosses her legs.

"So why take it down?"

"It is old now. Clearwater Beach has become a tourist destination. Not only that but it has become a luxury place to live. The Adam's Mark was old. And the club, Sheppards, was old and seedy. Sure, I liked it. It represented the old Clearwater and was is the last remaining place that reminds me of what this beach used to be like. Now, they want a new face. A newer, younger, progressive face. They want a new image. A better image. I understand it. Sometimes, even the mightiest have to fall."

A horn sounded, it was time.

Men in hard hats were ushering the people back, keeping them at a safe distance. Then, as if shots rang out from an invisible cannon, small orange lights could be seen from inside. Then came the series of pops.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop. Pop.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

10 in total. Then, in a split second, the aging hotel imploded in on itself, leaving any eminence of the old beach tradition behind.

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It took only a matter of seconds for the hotel to crumble like a gingerbread house. A small part of Chris wanted to shed a tear as he remembered the times he had there, but the other part of him wanted to smack that part of him for being soft.

This was good. This is was needed. With all of the other high priced real estate and modern looking hotels, this old worn out hotel was just simply no longer a good fit. Sometimes you had to let go of something dear to you to truly understand why it was better to move on.

"Do you think I can beat Peter?" Chris asked. Jenny put her glass down, wiping her lip. The glass had a red ring around the edge now.

"Of course I do. I don't know much about him but---"

She leans in close.

"I think you can beat anyone you put your mind towards beating. I think you are the best of the best, Chris, and this Peter character.....well....he is just......blah. I mean, for real. I have never even heard of him."

"I have. I think anyone who has watched wrestling for the past decade has. This is a match that will define my career. Sure, I won the belt, but now I have to make sure that I keep it. Peter's career will come crashing down like that hotel we just saw. A 12 year career, 7 of them given to this company, will all go poof in the blink of an eye. Peter Gilmour will come crashing down to reality this week. The only thing I wonder is if I really AM the champion. You know? Like am I truly deserving of this?"

She leaned in and kissed him.

"Chris, you are going to do great. I have faith. Just go into that match and do what you do, dominate. Kick some ass. Make him pay. Then come back, and make me pay....if you know what I mean..."

She looked at Chris with a wink.

He looked out over the beach, which was now filled with a haze from the destroyed buildings and the particals that filled the air.

He COULD beat Peter. He WOULD beat Peter. He would send this veteran, this legend, this All-Star, crashing down. He would end his career, for all intents and purposes......not because he wanted to, but becaue he needed to. Chris was the new face of this company.....

Out with the old, in with the new.

Peter Gilmour, the 40 year old Italian with an ego the size of Mongolia. Peter Gilmour, the symbol of what once was. Peter Gilmour, the Adam's Mark.

......out with the old, in with the new.

Chris swore he saw construction trucks, hired to build the new Aqualia 5 star hotel, coming over the bridge onto the island. The fall was quick, the time for change had come.

..........His time was now.

Looking into the camera, he took a drink before ashing his cigar and taking a deep breath before talking into the camera.

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"Peter. I knew this was going to be a war of words. I knew you would have a lot to say. I thought I had you figured out, but truth is, I figured out a lot about you during your little video shoot. Did I expect you to say that I in any way shape or form give you a hard dick? No, no I did not. Did I know you were 40? No, but then again I never really took the time to check. I never gave more than half a shit. I knew you were older than me, but age doesn't necessarily matter in this business. Ric Flair won the Intercontinental Championship in 2005 at 56 years of age. It doesn't matter what age you are if your motor still runs. If your drive is still there, your will to compete, your will to win. I touched a little bit on will in my last promo. The drive I still have, the hunger. I don't just have a hunger to win, I have a hunger to maim. You see, leading up to this championship run I wanted to hurt people to prove a point--to force Vinnie's hand in a way. I have steered away from that but there is still something boiling up inside me that is getting harder and harder to suppress. That will to want to rip the flesh off your body. That will to want to leave you not just pinned and beaten but in a pool of your own excrement and blood, with your career and overall healthy teetering in the balance. That is what made me who I am, that is what got me to where I am. That is what made Chris Jackson from Tampa Chris Chaos from your own personal hell.

But there is a lot that people don't know about me. Let me tell you a little story, while I have you all here. Let me show the world who Chris Chaos was, is, and will be. I have a brash persona, I know this. But I am human. I do get nervous. I do get worried. These are natural human emotions. I know that I CAN beat you---but like every human on the planet I wonder if I will. What would happen if Chris Chaos loses his belt in his first title defense after all the shit he talked? What would happen to Chris Chaos after Peter Gilmour, the 40 year old sociopath in the twilight of his career, beat him? Well, THAT is the outcome that I try to avoid. THAT is the outcome, or possible outcome, that keeps me hungry. I cannot let that happen. You see Pete, it is nothing but wrong place wrong time for you. For once in my life I have a chance to be something. For once in my life I am looking at a big time match from the favorite point of view, instead of the underdog. Sure, I can beat up on 'nobodies', as you phrased them, but anyone on our level can and should. I am not like Thomas Nixon who brags about beating nobodies. I am bored with them. I want matches like these. I need matches like these. I thrive in this atmosphere, or so I think. I guess I won't really know until that bell rings. But you bring up a good point in saying that I didn't pin you in the chamber. I didn't "win" the big match, I simply survived as I have stated numerous times already. You don't think that eats me alive? You don't think it kills me to throw this title over my shoulder every single night and wonder if I really did win it? Of course it does. I wouldn't be human if it didn't. This is the big match that I need to really vindicate my career. To really call myself a champion. Sure, you haven't been relevant recently, but like even you said, you are a legend here. You have been here 7 years. You are about as deeply ingrained in this business as you can get. You have seen the ups and downs. I have been here a mere 6 months. But, I have already done in 6 months what most people can never do. I have gotten to this point where I am the main event, I hold the top prize in the business, and I have an entire roster looking up to me. But I feel like maybe I haven't done enough, and that is what I struggle with. Most people could do what I have done in 6 months and call it a career. Most people work their way up from Federweight, through the belt system, and maybe, possibly, if they are lucky, one day get here. But I am here. I have bee thrust into the limelight. Now, I need to find out who I really am.

You claim you were violent before violence existed? Oh goodie. I need that. You see, you can taunt me all you want about the match at the last Warfare but the truth is it didn't LOSE that match either. I haven't LOST since August. I got screwed once, had a head scratching draw once, fell victim to a lunatic who claims she's a witch which resulted in a draw, and lost a match by default....simply because I did not win. Reno can't beat me, and he knows it, so he pinned Nixon. But because of that 'loss', I have undercard wrestlers like Michael Graves calling me out for shots. A win over you, and that all goes away. A win over you and my spot is justified. A win over you and these ants stop trying to eat the dog. They stay where they are in the natural order of things.

So isn't this a unique position you are in, Peter? Quite the conundrum. The champion needs this match more than you do. The champion needs to win, despite having a pretty stellar win loss record and string of performances recently, he needs to win it for nobody but himself. His world is crumbling internally, inside him, and his mind is eating him alive. My mind is crumbling like your career is crumbling. I am an animal backed into a corner, Pete, which makes me even more dangerous. I have a gamut of title shots coming up, and I need to be on the top of my game. Right now, I am not. Up until this match, I have been on cruise control. The match against McBride woke up my violent side, and now I need to kick it into hyper drive. I need to beat you down like you, Mr. Violence himself, have never been beaten down before. I need to embarrass you. I need it for me. So that is my motivator. That is my driving factor. You can get all the hard dicks you want, Pete. The mind state I am in, I may just cut it off and shove it down your throat. You claim I desecrated the title? I have ALREADY held it longer than you have, and I have only had it for a month. If anyone is the disgrace here, old man, it is you. BUT, you are a "legend", and I have to give you props for that. That is why I need to beat you like a government mule. If you were some scrub who batted his eyelashes at Roxy Cotton and got a title shot, maybe it would be different, but it is your status that makes this Warfare the biggest we have seen in a long, long time. It you perceived status that makes this arguably the biggest match of my career. You see, Pete, there is an old sports saying that says "Offense Sells Tickets, Defense Wins Championships." This is a defense where in my case, it keeps championships. I am here, I am on top of the mountain, and I need to cut your cables before you can even get a glimpse of the top. Your time here is over, Peter, as I have told you before. You were good once, hell even great. Even elite. But everyone crumbles eventually. Everyone falls at some point. Everyone's time comes. Mine is here, yours has come. Facts are facts. What you don't seem to realize is that sometimes it is just business. It is just life. I am the new face of Xtreme. You are simply an afterthought. You are simply a memory of what once was. That is okay, truly. Sometimes people aren't truly appreciated until they are gone. Sometimes you never know what you've got until it is gone. So look at me taking you down a few notches as a favor, in a twisted sort of way.

You claim you created chaos many moons ago? That you are the GOD of extreme? I'd like to see it, honestly. I am curious. It is beating a dead horse at this point but I said I was going to be a fighting champion, and that I am. But what is really interesting to me is that you said even if you have the cheat, you will? Way to give me an advance on your game plan, douche bag. You better be ready to cheat, because you are going to NEED to. Do you want to know why my list of 'nobodies' has been so high Pete? It is simply a product of scheduling. There is NOBODY on my level. Vinnie has said it himself. He came to me secretly and told me that he has a hard time booking me on Savage because it is hard to keep the competition level up. It is hard to book me because nobody can compete with me other than a select few. So these nobodies, they are simply nobodies because I am that damn good. I have said time and time again, I am the best in the world at what I do. I just need to know that. I need that confirmation. So beating you is not just going to happen, it HAS TO happen.

You make a lot of claims, Pete. But all you sound like is a scared little bitch. Here you are telling me I have beaten nobodies, but go ahead and look at your track record. You have lost every big match you have been in since I have been employed here. Sure, you won the Universal Title but the toughest grannie at the nursing home could have taken that belt off Scully. But honestly, I can ask you conversely, what have YOU done? I mean sure, your "Backstage Page" is longer than most government bills, but this is a what have you done for me lately business and lately Peter you have been equivalent to a steaming pile of bulldog shit. All I need to do is wipe you off my shoe. All I need to do is know that I CAN wipe you off my shoe.

You claim the "fans" need you as the face of the company? You mean the same fans you walk around the ring flicking off? The same fans you thrust your crotch at? The same fans you have said before you don't give two shits about? Which is it, because you are talking in circles. It just goes to show everyone how nervous you truly are. And the face of the company? You want the face of this company to be that scruffy mug? Take a shower once and a while and maybe it has a shot. And your girl? Jesus Christ, Pete. I am not sure what breed she is, but she doesn't qualify for the Thanksgiving Dog Show. I not only am the champion but have the hottest girl in the business on my shoulder. Can life get much better for me? Yes it can, when I beat you and finally do what we have all wanted to do for so long and that is shut you up. You claim they haven't lost respect for you since you began your period? I beg to differ. I have had numerous superstars and staff members tell me to do them a favor and shut your mouth. They seem to have faith in me that I can do it, and now all I need is faith in me that I can do it. That faith comes when I pin you 1-2-3 in the center of that ring and take you out of the title picture completely. But yes, the face of this company? Oh no, no no no. Not with that mug you two have. The face of the company is the two blonde bombshells from Tampa and Vegas......Chaotic Myst. When I beat you in the center of that ring, Peter, your career will truly come crashing down around you. You will have nothing left. I am hungrier than an Ethiopian kid to prove my worth and earn my stripes, and you are victim number one.

You may not care what happens to your body, and that is a good thing. Because, like you, I will do what I need to do to make sure your body is unrecognizable to you. You want to take me around the arena? Great. I welcome the challenge. I welcome you to push me, Peter, but when the smoke clears and the bell rings the results will be the same as they always are. Chris Chaos walking out of Warfare with MY title, MY dignity and another notch on MY belt.

You may be a legend here Peter, but I am the modern day legend killer. I know I have it in me, and I will prove it to you, myself, that locker room, and all of those Brazilian fans. I want this, I need this, and I am going to take this.

You may have been good at one point Peter, but Wednesday Night you will be....like all others before you.....you will be Equalized."

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XWF RECORD: 21-4-2
XWF Universal Champion 1x (Current)

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