Post by rickrampage on Apr 16, 2024 9:24:31 GMT -6
The scene opens with Rampage sitting alone at a bar in the Royal National Hotel in London, England. It had been a whirlwind week leading up to his trip to the UK. He had gone from Atlanta, where he watched The Lad defend his Television Championship and guarantee Rick his own shot at the title in Peru. In Peru, he had come moments away from securing his first title in the EWC when his knee gave out and he quite literally fell into his opponent’s submission move, which he tapped out to. Now he was here, in London, waiting for his next match at Stranglemania. It was still several days away, but at this moment, the match itself wasn’t what was on his mind.
The Iggy Swango Memorial Cup, which would be a part of a type of match that only took place in the EWC, The Hellevator Match. It was a match to honor a lost friend and competitor to the EWC and their fans. In the match, Rick would be competing against eleven others, and only one of them had he competed against as of yet in the EWC. This match was going to be a tough one to win; facing off against several competitors that he didn’t know, in a type of match that there was no way he could mentally prepare for. Still, that wasn’t even what was weighing on his mind as he sat at the bar. Fairly soon, the bartender made his way over to Rick,“How are you doing tonight, sir?”
“Could be better; could be worse.” Rampage replied as he looked towards the barkeep, rubbing his knee as he sat there. The slender man began to wipe down the bar as he spoke once more,“So, what can I get for you today.”
“Any bourbons you can recommend?” The massive man asked, and the bartender quickly replied,“I have a bottle of the Pappy Van Winkle Family Reserve Twenty Year. It’s four hundred pounds per pour.”
“What, you trying to fucking rob me? You think it’s funny to pull one over on the Yank?”
“No sir, I didn’t mean any offense. We have a few lower end bourbons as well, like the Woodford Reserve Double Oak. It’s forty-eight pounds per pour.”
“I’ll take two doubles neat,” Rampage snarled as he continued to nurse his sore knee.
The bartender simply nods as he goes to get the bottle and the glasses. After a few moments, he returns and begins to pour the drinks,“That’s one hundred and ninety-two pounds.”
Rampage hands him one hundred and ninety-two pounds, and then picks up the drinks before heading to a lounge table with them alone. He places both drinks down on the table, one in front of him and the other off to the side, almost as if it was for someone that was going to be joining him later. Rick just sat there, his hand around the glass as if he was going to drink, but he wasn’t just yet. He leaned forward, hunched over the table, before he began to speak,“There is a code in wrestling, and it’s a code that I am not willing to break. That code is that when it comes time to pay tribute to those we have lost, we all come together. We put our petty bullshit aside and we act like decent human beings; we pay our respect. In London, that is exactly what I will be doing.”
He pushes the drink just slightly away from him, an intense look appears on his face,“Now, I know I am one of the new kids on the block, and I never met Iggy; but none of that matters. Iggy was one of us… A Spartan Warrior…. A Gladiator. The ring was her Colisseum, and the Mat was her blood soaked sand; and when a famed Gladiator died, the other Gladiators took to the Arena and they fought in their honor and that is exactly what we are going to do here in London… AT STRANGLE…MANIA. Everyone will eventually set foot in that elevator and when we do, we will be fighting in her honor. Her spirit will be with us as we compete so that her soul and her spirit can know the feeling of competition once more.
Regardless of the respect that I have for a fellow gladiator, it’s not going to stop me from going in there and doing what I do best…. And that is lay waste to all those who set foot in that elevator. I will leave a trail of bloodshed and carnage on the sands of our Arena come April Twenty-Second. It’s not going to be easy, this match will bring competitors at me from all angles, and I am sure they will team up to try and get me eliminated as early as they can, and that’s fine; I’m ready for it.
I know that I will be facing some of the toughest competition that the EWC has to offer. Some of these competitors are champions, such as The Lad, who defeated me in my last match. Some are like Apollo Polamalu who has competed in main events and fought for titles as well. This entire match is filled with some serious threats; and I won’t be going easy on them. It doesn’t matter who it is, whether it’s ZERO or Caleb Scott; I will take them down eventually. It could be Melinda or Dalilah or Narumi who comes after my weakened knee; it won’t matter, because I will continue to push through with the heart of a gladiator. At the end of it all, it won’t be Justin or Phoenix or Bruce or Direwire that is left standing tall; IT WILL BE ME! I will stand tall in this match and when I win…I will draw comparisons to the Hall of Famer we are honoring.
And as we do battle, people all around the world will be watching and honoring her; from her hometown of San Fransisco, California to the Dreamatorium, they will be watching and cheering us on as we do battle inside The Hellevator. And when it’s all said and done, and my very own Moonage Daydream comes to play, I will have honored her. With the blood of my enemies staining the sands, and my sweat pouring down my perfect body; she will have once again have been a part of the biggest event in all of wrestling, Stranglemania.
I will start the show off with a bang in Iggy’s honor, and I will make sure that this match lives up to her name. I will fight like the champion she was and I will push myself to the limit, just as she did; and at the end, I will have my arm raised high, just as she did as well. As Stranglemania comes to an end, some will be talking about this title match or that title match; but everyone will be talking about how I won the Iggy Swango Memorial Cup. In her honor, we will steal the show. I will put on a match worthy of her, and I will fight until I am the only one left that is able to stand."
"So tonight, I raise a toast,” Rampage spoke as he grasped his glass once more, raising it up in front of him. “To Iggy Swango, you were taken from us far too soon. You were a sister, a kindred spirit; you fought amongst us, you battled with us, and you bled with us. You hoisted titles high above your head and you bested some of the best around. You are the reason that I am here in London, to fight in your honor. On April Twenty-Second, you will be remembered through me. They will see me as a the kind of Gladiator you were and they will love us for it.
I will make you proud; I pray that you watch me and accept my gift to you. I pray that you cherish it and fight alongside me. Join me on that night; help lift me up and inspire me to be the best version of myself. And once it’s all said and done, help me raise my arm in victory. For only through my victory, can you truly be honored, because I am the only true future EWC Hall of Famer in the bunch. So here is to us, Iggy, two EWC Hall of Famers; one current, and one future.”
Rampage moves his glass over to the other one that is sitting in the empty space next to him. He clinks the glass together before tapping his glass on the tabletop one time before drinking. The massive man slams the drink down and stands to his feet, walking away, the glass still in his hand as he makes his way out. As he does, the camera moves back to the table, where we see the other glass, which is now somehow empty.
The Iggy Swango Memorial Cup, which would be a part of a type of match that only took place in the EWC, The Hellevator Match. It was a match to honor a lost friend and competitor to the EWC and their fans. In the match, Rick would be competing against eleven others, and only one of them had he competed against as of yet in the EWC. This match was going to be a tough one to win; facing off against several competitors that he didn’t know, in a type of match that there was no way he could mentally prepare for. Still, that wasn’t even what was weighing on his mind as he sat at the bar. Fairly soon, the bartender made his way over to Rick,“How are you doing tonight, sir?”
“Could be better; could be worse.” Rampage replied as he looked towards the barkeep, rubbing his knee as he sat there. The slender man began to wipe down the bar as he spoke once more,“So, what can I get for you today.”
“Any bourbons you can recommend?” The massive man asked, and the bartender quickly replied,“I have a bottle of the Pappy Van Winkle Family Reserve Twenty Year. It’s four hundred pounds per pour.”
“What, you trying to fucking rob me? You think it’s funny to pull one over on the Yank?”
“No sir, I didn’t mean any offense. We have a few lower end bourbons as well, like the Woodford Reserve Double Oak. It’s forty-eight pounds per pour.”
“I’ll take two doubles neat,” Rampage snarled as he continued to nurse his sore knee.
The bartender simply nods as he goes to get the bottle and the glasses. After a few moments, he returns and begins to pour the drinks,“That’s one hundred and ninety-two pounds.”
Rampage hands him one hundred and ninety-two pounds, and then picks up the drinks before heading to a lounge table with them alone. He places both drinks down on the table, one in front of him and the other off to the side, almost as if it was for someone that was going to be joining him later. Rick just sat there, his hand around the glass as if he was going to drink, but he wasn’t just yet. He leaned forward, hunched over the table, before he began to speak,“There is a code in wrestling, and it’s a code that I am not willing to break. That code is that when it comes time to pay tribute to those we have lost, we all come together. We put our petty bullshit aside and we act like decent human beings; we pay our respect. In London, that is exactly what I will be doing.”
He pushes the drink just slightly away from him, an intense look appears on his face,“Now, I know I am one of the new kids on the block, and I never met Iggy; but none of that matters. Iggy was one of us… A Spartan Warrior…. A Gladiator. The ring was her Colisseum, and the Mat was her blood soaked sand; and when a famed Gladiator died, the other Gladiators took to the Arena and they fought in their honor and that is exactly what we are going to do here in London… AT STRANGLE…MANIA. Everyone will eventually set foot in that elevator and when we do, we will be fighting in her honor. Her spirit will be with us as we compete so that her soul and her spirit can know the feeling of competition once more.
Regardless of the respect that I have for a fellow gladiator, it’s not going to stop me from going in there and doing what I do best…. And that is lay waste to all those who set foot in that elevator. I will leave a trail of bloodshed and carnage on the sands of our Arena come April Twenty-Second. It’s not going to be easy, this match will bring competitors at me from all angles, and I am sure they will team up to try and get me eliminated as early as they can, and that’s fine; I’m ready for it.
I know that I will be facing some of the toughest competition that the EWC has to offer. Some of these competitors are champions, such as The Lad, who defeated me in my last match. Some are like Apollo Polamalu who has competed in main events and fought for titles as well. This entire match is filled with some serious threats; and I won’t be going easy on them. It doesn’t matter who it is, whether it’s ZERO or Caleb Scott; I will take them down eventually. It could be Melinda or Dalilah or Narumi who comes after my weakened knee; it won’t matter, because I will continue to push through with the heart of a gladiator. At the end of it all, it won’t be Justin or Phoenix or Bruce or Direwire that is left standing tall; IT WILL BE ME! I will stand tall in this match and when I win…I will draw comparisons to the Hall of Famer we are honoring.
And as we do battle, people all around the world will be watching and honoring her; from her hometown of San Fransisco, California to the Dreamatorium, they will be watching and cheering us on as we do battle inside The Hellevator. And when it’s all said and done, and my very own Moonage Daydream comes to play, I will have honored her. With the blood of my enemies staining the sands, and my sweat pouring down my perfect body; she will have once again have been a part of the biggest event in all of wrestling, Stranglemania.
I will start the show off with a bang in Iggy’s honor, and I will make sure that this match lives up to her name. I will fight like the champion she was and I will push myself to the limit, just as she did; and at the end, I will have my arm raised high, just as she did as well. As Stranglemania comes to an end, some will be talking about this title match or that title match; but everyone will be talking about how I won the Iggy Swango Memorial Cup. In her honor, we will steal the show. I will put on a match worthy of her, and I will fight until I am the only one left that is able to stand."
"So tonight, I raise a toast,” Rampage spoke as he grasped his glass once more, raising it up in front of him. “To Iggy Swango, you were taken from us far too soon. You were a sister, a kindred spirit; you fought amongst us, you battled with us, and you bled with us. You hoisted titles high above your head and you bested some of the best around. You are the reason that I am here in London, to fight in your honor. On April Twenty-Second, you will be remembered through me. They will see me as a the kind of Gladiator you were and they will love us for it.
I will make you proud; I pray that you watch me and accept my gift to you. I pray that you cherish it and fight alongside me. Join me on that night; help lift me up and inspire me to be the best version of myself. And once it’s all said and done, help me raise my arm in victory. For only through my victory, can you truly be honored, because I am the only true future EWC Hall of Famer in the bunch. So here is to us, Iggy, two EWC Hall of Famers; one current, and one future.”
Rampage moves his glass over to the other one that is sitting in the empty space next to him. He clinks the glass together before tapping his glass on the tabletop one time before drinking. The massive man slams the drink down and stands to his feet, walking away, the glass still in his hand as he makes his way out. As he does, the camera moves back to the table, where we see the other glass, which is now somehow empty.
