Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Chris Chaos · (12-14-2016)

The Best Celebrations……..Are Short Lived

FLASHBACK:

The ref’s hand hit the mat for the third time. Chris counted along with it. He yelled “THREE” as the hand hit, then rolled off the two mangled bodies below him and threw his hands to his blood stained mane of golden locks. He waited for the cage door to open, for the belt to be thrust into his hands. His body was wracked with pain…..but he survived goddamnit. He survived. That is all he needed to do.

Survive.

Then, he felt it. He felt the cool steel against his shirtless body. He hugged it close. It still wasn’t real yet. It couldn’t be.

He looked down at the 20 lb concoction of leather and metal and gold plating…….it said Gilmour…..it had blood on it…….Chris’s blood.

Tig O'Bitties: And the winner of this match……..and NEWWWWWWWWW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION…..CHRIS CHAAAAOOOS”

It was real.

He HAD done it. He said he would, and he did. In 3 months he did what took some people three years. Crawling over to the now open door, he saw Bruce and Jenny standing on the ramp way. Just like his dream!

He took a step, his foot was numb, but he continued to push forward. He got a little outside the chamber, and turned, looking back. Bruce and Jenny were at his side now. Bruce held his arm up…..Jenny was smiling and pointing at the crumbled bodies in the ring. Before he knew it, he was on his ass. Sitting down, with a crazed expression, hugging the belt tight as confetti fell. Mike Stump was yelling into a microphone somewhere. He swore he could see the XWF logo in his eye floater as Wild Card Weekend went off the air with him standing, though gingerly, with Bruce and Jenny on each side and his arms in the air……

...and in is hand…….

THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP.

[Image: jFoHbGn.jpg]

REALITY

It was a bummer, really. But they were his words, he said them, and now he would honor them. He would celebrate like a true champion, but it would be short lived. Saturday Night he was back in the ring again. Not only was he back in the mix, but he was in the ring versus Dolly Waters. Formidable, scrappy, a fellow champion. Dolly knew what it took to be competitive and successful in this business. She knew what it took to make the most of opportunities, to hold titles, to be “Super Star of the Month”. Dolly was going to need more than a pretty white belt and some employee of the month photo’s on the wall to overcome what awaited her.

The party was, because he is a man of his word, the biggest the beach had ever seen. Traffic was backed up for miles up the bridge and the restaurants had waiting lists a novel long and football field length waiting lines. The prodigal son had done it. The local kid from the 813 had reinvigorated an entire geographical area. He hadn’t see the bay area this vibrant since the Bucs made the Super Bowl. They lost, but they got there. The Rays in the playoffs, they lost but they got there. Maybe these examples aren’t good. Okay, the bay area hasn’t been this vibrant since the Lighting won the Stanley Cup in 2004. There’s one. Going on 13 years ago. You know what else happened 13 years ago? Somewhere in the bowels of East Bumfuck, Kentucky, Dolly Waters squeezed out of some farmer’s wife’s snatch and disgraced this planet with her existence. Yeah, 13 years ago.

There was volleyball, soccer, football….the beach was alive. There was live music at every bar and “Equalizer” shots featured at every beach side outdoor bar. Rockaway even made “Chaotic Desire” a drink. Chris wasn’t sure what was in it, but for $12.50 it better be fucking good.

Chris and Bruce sat on the top floor balcony of the Sand Pearl Hotel, facing the wide open gulf. Bruce had a cigar in his mouth and a silk collared shirt on. The old man looked good, bless his soul.

Chris sat in his TapOut tee with the XWF logo on the back. A pair of gym shorts and Nike Air Max’s rounded out the outfit. Chris swirled his gin and tonic before taking a sip.

“You did it, champ---I can call ya that now” Bruce said, “you said you were going to do it and you fucking did it! Look at this! This entire city is rallying behind their hometown kid! You are the fucking man now baby!”

The ice in Chris’s drink smacked together as he lowered it from his lips.

“Yeah, Bruce, I did. But at what cost? Men had careers shortened in that match...hell I may have even”

Bruce looked a little taken aback.

“Are you telling me you of all people feel remorse for the violent actions that took place in that cage?”

Chris took another sip of his drink, then grinned that wicked grin we all know and love.

“No….haha. Fuck them. I survived, and that was all I needed to do. I said I was going to do it and I did. But, I also said I was going to be a fighting champion. I said I was going to go out there night after night, week after week, and defend this great honor. That means it is back to the drawing board—it is back to the preparation and rigorous training. Sure, this feels good but the euphoria is all but over. It is time to get back to business.”

Bruce finishes his cigar and ashes it in the tray beside him. The sun was beginning to set over the Gulf.

“That is why you will be one of the best champions this business has ever seen. Your drive, your passion, your hunger. I have known you since you were 17, Chris, and your hunger has never died. You are on top of the world and now you want to grab Mars”.

Chris smiled as Jenny—who by the way was walking a little funny, also as he promised---brought a freshly polished Universal Title Belt, which he put over his shoulder. The three stood and looked out at the Gulf and the raucous party—thrown for him—going on below them.

+_________+__________+________

"Dolly.....

Dolly, Dolly, Dolly. We meet again. Last time I saw you, little girl, you were unconcious in the center of the ring after winning the Hart Title. Who did that to you, Dolly? That's right, it was me. I was welcoming you to the big leagues, so to speak. But also showing you that I am NOT the same guy you stepped in the ring with back in September. I am not the same man that failed to win the Television Title and sat back idly and watched as your tore through Savage with reckless abandon. Oh no, that's not me now. I am a new man, a new monster, and a new champion. I am the upper echelon now...the top of the mountain. Everyone, including you, is looking up at me now. So much for "Chris Chaos can't win the big one." You have no more propane to fuel that fire with, girlie."

“You see Dolly, I watch a lot of sports. I have been around sports my entire life. Let’s break down, in sports terms, where we both are at this moment in our careers. Despite us both being champions, there is a steep drop off between us. Just like there is a difference, a drop off, between first and third place. Look at it from sports terms, Dolly. You are a good team, Dolly, you have been dominant to say the least. But at this point, you aren’t on my level. You won your conference championship, I won the Super Bowl. There is a difference. I am the champion that everyone remembers, will remember, and will talk about for ages.

Little girl, you can spew out all the hot garbage you want but that doesn’t hide that the fact it is still just that, hot garbage. You can say it until your little peach-fuzzed face turns blue that you beat me. Fine and dandy because we both know, everyone knows, you never “beat” me. I lost the match because I didn’t “win” the match, if that makes any sense. You never pinned me…...Kennedy and I double pinned each other. May I speak a little truth here? You won your precious little title, Dolly by default. And you won it just 1 week after I beat your father to within an inch of his life and set him on fire. So before you go spewing your nonsense about “beating me”, let me tell you my only losses since day fucking 1 are Drake Knight, Dillinger and that cheating scumbag Robbie Bourbon. That Savage Match for that title was a draw, in my eyes, as well as the Ravenwolf fiasco. 13, 3 and 2. So go ahead, continue claiming you “beat me”. Whatever helps you sleep in your plastic Princess Jasmine bed at night.

May I open your eyes to a little more truth? Or do you not believe it unless Social Media tells you to? Dolly…….I have been making you and your family my bitch since the seasons changed. I put your father on the shelf. I equalized you and left you laying in a pile of your own self pity. And who do you think put the hammer in that tool box that Doctor D’Ville used on your precious little boyfriends fingers? Vinnie can claim responsibility all he wants….it was me. More truth? Okay…..more truth. Dolly, sure, Vinnie has a rule that singles champions can only hold one belt at a time here. But you know as well as I know, that rules are made to be broken. The ONLY reason this match is non title is because Vinnie didn’t want me to win two of this company's most prestigious titles in the span of 7 days.

….and you know that is true.

Then then lets explore the word prestigious, shall we? The only thing prestigious about the belt that you hold onto currently is the name attached to it. The Hart Family. But the staple of the Hart family, the hit man, has fallen victim to the chaos as well. I kicked his head off his shoulders and left him laying. Your belt only holds weight because of Stu Hart and the memory of Owen—who was too stupid to understand that descending to the ring with a cable was a bad idea. So lets not get too ahead of ourselves and start calling anything you have done here an “accomplishment”.

What I hold around my waist is the most prestigious title in wrestling. I did that in three months. I was put into the same match as you were on that fateful night, but my heart wasn’t in it. That wasn’t the belt I wanted. I said since Day 1 this what the title I was coveting. I did in three months what it has taken others years to do. So I will give you a slow clap, Dolly, because you won the TV Title in your first match. For those months you were meandering through the mid-card and defending a TV Title that doesn’t even deserve to be on television. While you were barely squeaking by in these matches I was quietly building a chaotic title wave...and it has finally washed ashore. Who did you beat, by the way, to win the Hart title? Jakob Davis. Please.

In three short months I have accomplished more than you ever will. Sure, you have been superstar of the month. I have beaten Doctor D’Ville, your ‘legendary’ father, and every opponent who has stepped in my path. Now, your career has hit a plateau. Because as long as I am Universal Champion, you will never get your freshly polished nails on this belt.

Ever.

…..So celebrate, Dolly, go ahead. Toot your horn. But I will beat you this weekend and bring a chaotic end to your riot. Bring a fitting end to your facade of a career. So celebrate, go ahead….

Because the best celebrations are short lived.

Prepare to be equalized.”

He blows a kiss and turns away from the camera, Bruce rubbing his shoulders as the sun fades over the Gulf of Mexico.

Fin.

[Image: WsCsn5L.jpg]

XWF RECORD: 13-3-2
XWF Universal Champion 1x (Current)
[Image: oci5jo8.png]

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Best Celebrations……..Are Short Lived
Author	Message