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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "CCPE Cannabis Cup 2022" RP Board
2 Gerrys, 1 Cup
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Gerry Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Not Over

(the perfect heel; hated even by the fans who usually cheer heels; pisses off internet fans too)


#1
06-17-2022, 11:34 AM

Las Vegas Sunday June 13th

He didn’t even bother to wait for the show to end. He didn’t even shower. He threw his street clothes on and exited the locker room of Allegiant stadium, the roar of the live crowd for Evolution echoing throughout the hallways of the stadium, nearly making it vibrate. He pulled his hood down over his face as pushed open one of the side doors and stepped out into the warm Las Vegas evening. He immediately regretted the decision of wearing the hoodie but he did not want to be bothered at the moment.

Gerard reached into the hoodie pocket, pulling out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes. He flicks it open and pulls a slightly bent cigarette out and a Bic lighter. Gerry flicks on the lighter and burned the end of the cigarette before letting out an exhale of smoke.

His life had slowly started to unravel. It all started around when he discovered his late mother’s death was potentially a murder. Since then it had been downhill. The two men he paid to watch his back had a falling out. One decided he’d rather run around with his girlfriend than focus on the game plan. The other decided he got sick of it. That video of him trying to strangle his father at the wedding was making the rounds on social media and TMZ got a hold of it. He hadn’t heard anything from Action about it yet. He figured everyone was too busy with the big show to worry about one talent’s extracurricular activities. Gerard figured it would be addressed in the coming days with a fine or suspension of some sort.

The icing on the cake was he lost his United States title tonight without being involved in the fall.

He took another deep drag on the cigarette and leaned back against the wall of the stadium, looking out across the packed parking lot, staring at the pink-red sky. He needed to take his mind off things. There was nothing that could be done about anything at the moment as his life was tanking like the stock market.

Maybe it’s the pills.

Gerry shook his head. No, he didn’t have a problem. Everything he did was strictly recreational.

Sure. That’s what every addict says.

Addict. The word brought thoughts of people stealing money and selling items to pay for drugs. Gerard was a world-famous actor and professional wrestler. He maybe got a little rowdy at times, but nothing destructive.

Your spiral didn’t start with the news about your mother. It started when you opened that pill bottle.

Gerry shook his head again, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He opened his phone and went to the Uber app, looking for a driver. He needed something to take the edge off.

=====

Hey all you cool cats and kittens.

This is a very exciting time you see. You ask why?

Because it’s almost time for the Cannabis Cup. A great big celebration of this business. When Chris Page asked if I wanted to be part of this, I jumped at the opportunity. That’s because I never shrink from a chance to grow my legacy.

Oh, who am I you ask? Let me quote the iconic HOV.

Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Gerard Angelo. I thought about doing a whole rap there but that’s just not in my wheelhouse. What is in my wheelhouse is big tournaments like this one. I have a habit of coming out of nowhere to win massive events like this one. I mean I am one of the best to ever lace up a pair of boots, handsome as hell, and a pretty good cook if I do say so myself.

Plus that trophy is going to look damn good in my big ass house. I got a spot picked out for it and everything. It’s a spot in the trophy room that when it’s the right time of day the sun is going to hit it and, whew boy, that’s gonna be such a great sight.

But before I get too far ahead of myself. I still have to worry about my first-round opponent. Jessie Salco, how you doin’ hon? Hope you’re doing really well because in just a few short weeks you have to go one-on-one with the Living Legend. I know that sends chills up your spine and makes butterflies fill your stomach.

I will admit, I’m not too familiar with you Jessie but ya boy is gonna be firing up that film session soon. I do know that you are a lifer over there at Sin City and I can respect that loyalty and dedication. You’ve won titles, had big matches, and had a pretty decent career. And I heard through the grapevine that you’re seeing this year as one last time on the roads. Congrats on a decent career, girl.

I’m sure you’re thinking right now, “fuck it. I can go out on top by becoming the inaugural Cannabis Cup winner”. And that would be such a great storyline for the tournament. Jessie Salco wins the Cannabis Cup and rides off into the sunset. As a movie star, I can appreciate that it tugs on the heartstrings.

Buuuuutunfortunately, you have to face the guy who’s actually going to win the Cup in the first round. I know that sounds like a rough deal for you but there is some good news about you losing to me in the first round. You get to be immortalized as a trivia question for years to come. Who lost to Gerard Angelo in the first round of the Cannabis Cup? Jessie Salco.

Man, doesn’t that sound great? You can tell your grandkids all about this someday. How you got into the ring with the best damn wrestler to ever live and you got beat by him. You’re getting a once-in-a-lifetime kind of moment here. This is something that gets written down in your roster bio next to all your championships.

Bombshell Tag Champ.
Bombshell Television Champ.
Lost to the “Living Legend” Gerard Angelo.


Yeah, that sounds like a career highlight to me.

You can bring all that fire Jessie, that “don’t take no shit” attitude. Bring it all to the Cup because you’re going to need it. Gonna need it to step up to me. To step into my spotlight and try to take me down. Try is the keyword here.

Because as good as you are Jessie, you can’t beat me.

I’m just better than the rest of these clowns. I’m built different, as the kids say. I plan on being the first person to put my name on that trophy and no one is going to stand in my way.

I always knew I was better than everyone else. Here’s my chance to leave no doubt in anyone else's mind who’s at the top of the industry. You just happen to be the first casualty.

It’s not personal, Jessie. It’s just good business.

=====

Gerard sat in his hotel suite, sitting in one of the high-backed chairs in the room, his feet raised on the ottoman. He clutched a bottle of scotch in one hand, a cigarette clenched between two fingers on the other. The TV was on as he stared at it with heavy-lidded eyes, casually ashing his cigarette on the carpet.

Wow, you’re so fucking cliché. Wrestler drowning his sorrows in the hotel room of insert town.

“Shut the fuck up,” Gerry mutters, taking a swig from the bottle.

No wonder you lost your fucking title. Look at you. You call yourself the best in the business but you lost to a guy you said couldn’t lace your boots. You’re not even the best in your own company but you want to do this Cannabis Cup? You’re gonna embarrass yourself.

“I said shut up.”

You trying to go out there and prove yourself against the rest of the wrestling world is a disaster waiting to happen. You’re washed. You caught fire for a couple of months and now you’re just back to being a man trying to capture past glory again. You’re everything you talk shit about in the past.

“Get out of my fucking head”, Gerry said, standing up on shaky legs. He stumbles over to the mirror, staring at his reflection. He doesn’t even recognize the man in the mirror. It’s the eyes. They look defeated and hallow.

I can’t get out of your head. I am you. I am the truth. I’m everything you know to be true that your overinflated ego won’t let you acknowledge. You’re a has-been. Living Legend? Please. You’re nothing but an addict now.

“You’re not real. You’re not real.”

Oh but I am. Like I said, I’m the real you. Just face it, you don’t have what it takes anymore. Short bursts of success followed by draughts of mediocrity. You always think you can hang with the best, get people talking about you. Then as soon as you get that added pressure you fold. Just like tonight. Give you a little bit of success and you fall flat on your face. Just like at Evolution. Just like what will happen at the Cannabis Cup.

“Get out of my head.”

You just want to drown your problems with pills and booze instead of facing them. Trying to coast on that shallow pool of talent you still have and yet still falling short constantly. Good thing your mother is dead so she can’t see just how pathetic you really are.

Gerard stared back at his reflection and it seemed that his lips were twisting into a cruel smile. Gerard snarled and swung the bottle at the mirror. It connected, leaving a crater as cracks spider-webbed across the side. The bottle slipped from his hand on the impact, it landing on the carpet, staining it with the amber liquid leaking from the bottle Even behind the cracks, his mirror self stared back at him, lips still split in that awful grin. He turned away from the mirror but his foot stepped on the bottle and Gerard slipped. The last thing he saw was the carpet rushing up at him before it went dark.
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