Centurion: Assholes

(Centurion has returned home as he awaits the next step in his plan.

We open up inside the former C&C Inc. Training Facility, the current home of Centurion. There, in the office that has been turned into a makeshift bedroom, we see Centurion standing in front of a white board. Next to the white board is a television, which is playing old XWF matches. Centurion steps back from the whiteboard with his hand on his chin, and we see the notes he has made.)



Centurion: They're like lemings. They just keep following each other off a cliff. Problem is, they won't die. And they're smarter than they look...well, most of them are. Gilmour's still a fucking idiot.

(Centurion glances over at the TV, which is playing the Peter Gilmour/Scully match, the infamous match where Gilmour became Universal Champion. Centurion just shakes his head.)

Centurion: See, even there, when he's supposed to be on his A game, Gilmour sucks! So I just don't get it. What did see in him THEN? What does he see in him NOW? It makes no sense to me.

(Centurion glances back over at the whiteboard.)

Centurion: And what does Madison have to do with all of this? How is she pulling the strings when she's barely even around? Is she even pulling the strings? There's some kind of mystical element involved here that I do not understand. Do you think I'm overthinking this?

Athena: Mrow!

(Centurion turns around and looks at his cat Athena, who has been patiently sitting on the floor behind him, but clearly doesn't give a shit about what he's saying because she's a cat and that would be silly. No one else is in the room. Centurion cracks a smile and bends down to pet his cat.)

Centurion: What do ya think, Athena? Am I going to beat up Peter Gilmour and Tristan Slater?

Athena: Mrowwww!

(Athena lets out a deeper, longer meow as Centurion squeezes the side of her race. She shakes her head and lightly nips Centurion on the hand. Centurion pulls back and looks down at her.)

Centurion: Alright fine, let's find you some food.

(At the word "food", Athena bolts from the room and into the main gym area. Centurion slowly walks out there and over to a table with various cat foods and treats on it. The sound of a running treadmill is heard in the background, but Centurion seems to pay it no mind. He reaches into a bag of treats and sets a few down on the ground, as Athena quickly starts to gobble them up. Centurion turns, and gets shocked by what he sees...

...Boris, laying next to a running treadmill, looking like he fainted.

Centurion just sighs and reaches above the cat treat table to a shelf filled with various vodkas. He grabs one and walks over to Boris.)

Centurion: This doesn't look like cardio.

Boris: No...more...Boris...dies.

(Boris is barely able to speak through his heavy breathing. Centurion hands him the bottle of vodka and Boris quickly opens it and tosses the cap aside. He downs half the bottle, despite his face still being covered in some weird Slavic magic trick, before tossing the bottle aside and doing a kip up.)

Centurion: Better?

Boris: Oppa!

Centurion: Listen, you can't be fucking around here. This group - this Cult - is banking on Madison Dyson winning this tournament. If they're able to get the crown, who the hell knows what they're looking to do with it. Probably something gross.

Boris: Do not worry Good Friend Centurion. Boris is on it!

Centurion: That's exactly what I'm afraid of.

(Boris hops back up on the treadmill as Centurion walks back to the table. Athena has now jumped onto the table of food and treats, and is using her teeth to bite the side of the bag of treats Centurion just grabbed. He runs over and grabs the bag.)

Centurion: Leave it alone!

(Centurion lifts the bag away from Athena, who just sits on the table with her head cocked.)

Centurion: Why aren't you this destructive when you're with Walter? Do you always have to wait until I come home before deciding to be a brat?

Athena: Mrow!

(Centurion sighs, but he can't help but smile as he shakes his head. He picks Athena up and carries the curious looking cat back into the office room. He re-examines the whiteboard and looks over at the TV, just in time to see Gilmour celebrating his Universal Title victory.)

Centurion: Ugh. How did the company even survive? You'd think anything with Peter Gilmour at the top is destined to fail. Maybe that's why Shane loves the dude so much - they somehow survived together. Sometimes I wonder if it's for the best.

(Centurion glances back at the white board once again. He sets Athena down on the ground before picking up the dry erase marker. He draws a line between the images of Peter Gilmour and Shane , and write "survived failure together" underneath it. He then draws a line between and Slater, and puts a big questionmark under it.)

Centurion: But this one, I just don't get. Completely baffling to me. Why would Tristan Slater want to work with Shane ? What would see in Slater? What is the purpose of this relationship? It makes absolutely no sense to me.

(Centurion then draws a line between Slater and Engineer. He doesn't write anything yet - he just stands back, marker in hand, looking it over. He glances back over at his TV, which begins playing the next video in the rotation, which happens to be Leap Of Faith 2019. It is going over several of the matches for the night, including the XWF Television Title match between Tristan Slater and Lux. Centurion lets out a "hmm..." as he approaches the white board. He draws a line from Slater to both Engineer and Gilmour, and writes the words "If he can't beat them, he joins them" on it. He steps back and puts the cap back on the marker.)

Centurion: What do you think?

Athena: Mrow!

------It's so strange when you're down and lying on the floor------

Awe, look at little Gilly Willy acting like a big tuffie!

Good job, Gilly! You're such a big boy! You can say a couple of sentences without pooping your diaper! You're getting to be so good at this! Maybe one day you'll actually say something that makes sense!

Seriously, how are you this fucking dumb? I don't even know how you're able to find the door and step out of the house in the morning. Wait, do you even have a house? Or do you live in some box under a bridge somewhere and tell people it's your "mansion in a tropical paradise"?

Every island is a private island when Gilly is on it because no one wants to be around him.

I mean, I knew you were a dumbfuck. Always have been. But sometimes you say something that defies any sort of human logic. You say something that is so incredibly dumb it actually hurts my brain. Stupidity so foul I feel myself getting an aneurysm.

And you, Gilly? You just released a whole video of them.

I don't like being the kind of guy who replays actual clips from other people's promos, but like...I can't paraphrase any of this shit. These quotes can only be heard in their original form. So forgive me for littering the airwaves with Gill's bullshit once again, but it had to be done in this instance.

Quote:Now we've battled a few times and you've beaten me. I'll admit it. I lost. You were the better man on those nights. But I got to ask you this one question. Why didn't you give me another shot when you won the damn belt? HUH? YOU THERE CENTY?

Here's Gilly, lying on the ground, broken and in agony, and instead of being thankful that I didn't plunge the sword directly into his heart, he yells "YOU'RE SCARED!"

Can anyone tell me how this makes sense, even in Gilmour logic? Why would I grant Gilmour a title shot when A) he already had one, and he lost, B) I've beaten him on every single occasion, and C) he didn't earn one. How were things done back in the days? Did they just assign one challenger to a belt and have them fight for it every week until they finally won it? That would explain how Gil got the Universal Title.

You can keep repeating it over and over again, but I'm not afraid of you, Gil. NO ONE is afraid of you. Greta Thunberg would whoop your ass. Betty White would make you tap out. You're complete garbage, and it doesn't matter how little self awareness you have - nothing is going to change that fact. You were born shit, and shit you shall remain.

Besides, who are you really trying to fool anyway? Even someone with your...lack of mental abilities should know how untrue that is. We've proven it many, many times already. What, am I suddenly going to be afraid of you after the other 200 times I wasn't? It's like Charlie Brown with the football, only your Charlie Brown and the football is important wins in the XWF. It keeps being pulled away from you, but hey, THIS TIME will be the time, right?! Speaking of:

Quote:We battle in a LADDER MATCH which is one of my specialties. Now I know I don't got a good record in those matches but I intend on winning the belt this time even if I have to kill myself in doing it.

How fucking sad is it that you have a match you consider a "speciality", and even you admit you suck at it? Little free lesson for you, Gilman...

IT'S NOT A SPECIALITY IF YOU'RE NO GOOD AT IT!

What you're basically saying is "this is a match I like." Which is fine - I like Chinese checkers, but I'm not any good at it. I sure as hell wouldn't call it my "speciality", though. You have fun being thrown off of high shit and crashing through things that leave scars on your body. Cool! We all have our thing, but "speciality"? Let's not throw that word around too loosely.

You know what my speciality is, Gilligan? Kicking your ass. I do it a lot. And I'm really fucking good at it. I could do it every single day, but I'm bored of it. I don't enjoy myself doing it. I like to get the fans on their feet, cheering and screaming over an intense battle that two warriors who refuse to give up.

I hear crickets when I fight you, Gil. That's because everyone decided to take a piss break during a Gilmour match. Ever wonder why the arenas are so quiet when you walk out? It isn't because they're enjoying that shitty song you walk out to. It's because they left. Either that, or they hanged themselves.

You're nothing more than a bag of meat completely devoid of talent. You are surrounded by enablers who love to see you get beat up, so they tell you to pick fights with people who far exceed your skill level. They want you to fight folks like me, Robbie Bourbon, Chris Page - not because they think you can beat us, but because they find it funny when you get tossed around like a sack of potatos, and they hope you can provide them a bit of a distraction.

You're not a THREAT, Gilgoyle. That's just a word you said once, and , with all the brain damage he's suffered, kept repeating it over and over again until you made it one of your 5,000 nicknames. No, you're not a "threat". No, you're not taking me "To The X-Treeeeme". And no, I certainly don't want to suck your dick. Seriously, stop telling people to do that. Not only is it weird and gross and gay, but in the post-#MeToo Era, you need to watch what you say around certain people.

Then again, maybe you won't get Weinstein'd because no one believes you actually sleep with women. You're certainly not a THREAT to women's vaginas, unless that THREAT is drying them up quicker than water on a rock in the Mojave.

Let your buddy Tristan know that I'll see him tomorrow night. In the meantime, try not to get your ass kicked too much by Noah Jackson. I want to at least have my trip to England be worth it. Last thing I want to do is spend all this time and money traveling across the Atlantic Ocean just to stand in the ring with an unenthuased scarecrow.