Afterburn for Vertigo E71

[FGA Office]

Catch up with your favorite FGA grapplers on Afterburn! Get their thoughts on the latest, their opponents, and other backstage happenings right here, only on Frontier+.

[Marlon Cure]

(OOC: Apologies to both TJ & Terr for not getting this in for the show in a timely manner to help with my part with the feud. I kinda got caught up with work and it got held off as a result. Hopefully, it's up to par with everything that's been done so far)

Geoff Penzer: Kendall Kingham has just been eliminated after lasting one hour in the Gold Rush Rumble! What a performance!

Stephy Auger: If only she won!

The crowd can’t help but to applaud Kingham’s spirited performance. Harter takes notice of this and trolls the audience by bowing as if the cheers were for him. Harter heads over and slowly pulls a still groggy Cure back to his feet. Once the Tenacious Little Bastard takes control of his back, the crowd sighs, groans and boos.

Stephy Auger: Harter’s about to punch his ticket to All-Star Showdown Eight!

Harter flashes his trademark crooked smirk as he rolls Cure in front of him and delivers Mors Proditoris!!!





























Kris Cruise: NO!!!

The crowd gasps when Cure ducks at the last second. When Harter turns around, the crowd gasps again when King Cure quickly lifts him up onto his shoulders!

Geoff Penzer: Cure’s got him up!
















Cure pushes Harter up off his shoulders…




















… falls back…





















… and connects with The Blackout (Fireman's Carry dropped into an Overhead Kick)!!!

A dazed Harter stumbles back towards the ropes! Cure returns to his feet with a kip up, charges forward and connects with a running clothesline, sending Harter over the top rope and to the floor!!!!!

Dom Harter - ELIMINATED

“Public Service Announce” blares throughout the arena.

Kris Cruise: CURE’S DONE IT! CURE’S DONE IT! MARLON CURE IS THE GOLD RUSH RUMBLE WINNER!

J.A. Aldridge: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 2019 Gold Rush Rumble… MAAAAAARRRLOONNNNNN CUUUUUUURRRRRRE!!!

Cure heads over into the corner. After Cure climbs onto the middle ropes, he surveys the crowd. Cure stands with both arms outstretched on either side of him, eyes closed and his head tilted back, soaking in the atmosphere and energy from the crowd. The camera pans around Cure as the fan reaction grows louder and louder.

Marlon Cure: Ain’t it crazy how much can change in a year…?

The camera cuts to show Cure’s entrance during last year’s Gold Rush Rumble, with the cocky smirk etched onto his features as he makes his way down to the ring for his offcial FGA Debut.

Brian Stryker: A lot of people get caught up in the face that the guy loves to talk, that he’s the show off that big ups himself and that he’s flashy.

Stryker shakes his head.

Brian Stryker: Don’t let that the bragging fool you. The guy lives to be great and there’s very few that have the drive and determination to put in the kind of work he has to get to that point. That have broken themselves down to the barebones and rebuilt themselves into what he’s become.

This match with Fujiko isn’t just a World Title Match. It’s a clash between two people who sincerely believe they’re on top of the wrestling world and they’ve both got an argument. And that’s the kind of big match pressure he lives for.

THWACK!

THWACK THWACK!

THWACK!

The sounds of flesh smacking against a heavy bag echoing throughout serves as the transition to this vignette as we see a quick camera cut of Marlon Cure, drenched in sweat, going to work as he unleashes on the bag with a series of strikes. Aside from the sounds of Nipsey Hussle’s “Hussle & Motivate” in the background, there’s no other sign of life while Cure strikes away at the bag. How long he’d been in the gym is a mystery, as the sun looks as though it’s only just begun to rise over the horizon it seems. “King Cure” himself lost track of exactly how long he’s been her, but knows that every second counts to get himself ready as he throws a bicycle knee, nearly folding it in two.

Marlon Cure: I came into FGA through the Rey Del Aire and signed the official contract not long after the tournament concluded. From the second my piano hit for the first time, to me walking out onto the stage, I had all eyes on me. So naturally, I hit the ground running when I got here. I faced off against the best and brightest that FGA had to offer, snatched up championship gold and I’m now a short stone’s throw from making history.

The camera cuts to show Cure training with a fellow wrestler as the two engage in a match of sorts. Each movement from Cure is crisp, fluid as he takes down his training partner with a Japanese Armdrag and quickly transitions into an Armlock. Cure shakes his head and the words “Again” are audible coming from him as they go through the different drills. Different transitions and openings. Despite Cure’s fluidity in between the ropes, it’s clear he’s not satisfied with his movements.

In his mind, anything less than perfection isn’t enough for what’s to come.

Marlon Cure: Everyone points to the fact that I put on, that I love to brag and boast, that I enjoy flaunting my success and skill, letting my ego and arrogance get to a hundred, thousand, trillion at times. Yet nobody’s been able to shut me up. No one has been able to humble me. Nobody has been able to stop me.

The Crimson Baroness: Marlon Cure? I think we crossed paths once or twice in NKP. He was still trying to find his footing back then. Just, you know, trying to find that groove. But you could tell he had talent, even back then when he was the European champion. And he’s grown since then...so good for you, sweetie.

We all know winning the Mid-Atlantic Legacy title is no easy feat, and the Gold Rush Rumble has been won by a select few, so while I might not be...overly fond of him...I can’t deny his talent.

The camera cuts to show Cure doing weighted dips, pushing himself to keep going as he pulls himself back up with two 45 pound weights hanging from his belt. Quick cuts show us Cure going through a variety of exercises. 1,000 Meter Row, Medicine Ball Tosses, all geared towards pushing himself to his absolute limits as Cure’s intense expression never wavers. He’s determined to go further, go farther than he has before.

Marlon Cure: I wasn’t groomed for this, I didn’t have the respect or claims til I moved past the greats and become one myself. I’ve bled, I’ve been broken down, I’ve trained myself into the ground til I couldn’t go no more, picked up and did it again til I got right with one aim in mind: To stand at the top of the business that took me in when I had nothing and run the game i’m in. Be seated in my throne, overlooking the world I’ve put a third of my life into and so far..? I’ve done just that.

The instrumental of “Hussle & Motivate” kicks back in and a bit dog the chorus plays as we see Cure’s “Takeover” entrance from Winter Frontier where everything that encapsulated The Would-Be King came out in full force: The showmanship, the confidence and desire to win and win it big as Cure holds up the Mid-Atlantic Legacy championship high above his head.

Marlon Cure: And then there’s Fujiko Mine…

The “Hussle & Motivate” instrumental is cut as the low and the camera shifts as the softer tones of “Can You Feel It?” Is heard. A camera cut later shows the first meeting between Cure and Fujiko. The small staredown during the match and light back and forth banter between the two over the next year that would be a catalyst for what would possibly be the biggest match of both of their careers so far.

Marlon Cure: One night, on one show she got one on me. Aiight, bet. I can admit when I got caught slipping. Fast forward to her winning the title and now? She’s feeling herself a little more. Standing a little taller, thumping her chest a bit more and talking that slick shit after beating an obviously shook Evan Envi. And yet somehow she’ll tell you with a straight face that she went through hell on earth to get there because she was given the runaround. Somehow, someway Fujiko spin the fact that she and hers were stuck doing the chase for months on end not because of anything Envi & Valero did, but because she allowed herself to get caught lacking in an industry where you gotta keep your head on a swivel when you’re on top or gunning for it.

The camera then cuts to the first Vertigo following Only The Strong Survive, showing Fujiko & Marlon staring down once again after Cure made his challenge official.

Marlon Cure: Don’t get it twisted and assume that I don’t know who I’m going up against. Is Fujiko good? Absolutely. 1 in a Million, even. You don’t accomplish all that she has, do the things she does and not be considered as such. But she seems to be severely underestimating it is she’s stepping into the ring with in a few weeks, out of ignorance or just suicidal overconfidence I don’t know but let me clue you in.

Highlights of Cure’s career up to this point begin to play, intertwining with his voiceover.

Marlon Cure: I’m generational in this business. Once in a lifetime, one of a kind. Blood of a king, mentality to get it done by any means when I’m in my zone. When those lights are on bright, when the stakes are at their highest and when you have, there’s nobody in the world that can see me. That performs on the level I do and comes through with that shit that you’ve gotta see to believe. Nobody in any locker room, any roster, any federation, alliance or pro grappling company that can talk the big shit i talk, do the shit i do in the ring and back it up, let alone do it on the nightly. In between those ropes, I’m un-f*ck-withable.

The camera cuts to show Cure in a film room, watching highlight reels and matches. He stops on the Fujiko/Envi Match from Only The Strong Survive and watches intently. Mentally picking the match for angles and all the little things his future opponent seems to favor in the ring.

Marlon Cure: And at All Star Showdown, you get to see the fact live and direct. I’m not one for waiting and being patient ain’t me. I’ve been in it to get mines however I need to, no matter what it takes. I ain’t come this far, do the dirt that I’ve done, to settle for 2nd best... 

I came to reign.

The vignette ends with Cure leaning against the ropes at the end of this year's Gold Rush Rumble, his head held high and a determined look in his eye as the All Star Showdown banner looms prominantly in the background of his victory celebration.

[Deleted]

Annie Zellor: I told you all…

Annie chirps cheerfully, beaming a wide smile towards the camera as she sits on the trunk of their rented Chrysler - unusually, there’s a pair of inflatable legs sticking out of trunk near her feet. The former Mid-Atlantic Legacy champion looks to have recovered from her match earlier in the night, and has changed out of her ring attire; dressed casually in a pair of Blvck sweats and one of her old—lets call it ‘retro’—#grrface hooded tops. Her hair cascading down across her shoulders as the Seattle Pro tag team title rests on the trunk next to her.

Annie Zellor: ...all Kazu Hirano really needed was a proper challenge - not like that Trevor Philips failed to give him a few weeks ago.

There’s no mention of his victory over Fenrys though. That’s still something of a sore point among The New Murder, especially after the events of tonight, and his loss to Jillian Clay - even with the support of ‘Inflatable Dom’. So there, beneath the illuminating sodium lights of the parking garage, Annie keeps smiling at the camera as she speaks.

Annie Zellor: And now, like, someone’s gone ahead and given Kazu another chance—and another challenge! ‘Cause next Saturday at All Star Showdown 8, you get to go one-on-one with me. And, like, I know how much you’re looking forward to that, Kazu.

A hint of sarcasm managed to find its way into that last sentence as Annie smirks for a moment. She pushes her hair back behind her ear before picking up the Seattle Pro tag team title, holding it in both hands on her lap as she speaks again.

Annie Zellor: Tonight you suffered your first loss here in FGA. And I want you to remember this moment, Kaz—remember who pinned your shoulders to the mat tonight—

Because Annie can’t remember doing so!

Annie Zellor: —‘cause we both know you’re gonna use that loss to push yourself forward. Probably into your FGA pay-per-view debut, into your first title shot here in FGA...maybe even into a title victory…

She pauses, the smile on her face waning as Annie glances down at the title belt in her hands. The Tenacious Wrecking Crew are having greater luck with those titles than Annie has had in her singles runs thus far this year; they’ve managed to defend the belts against The Good Guys here in FGA, against Brytain and Lucie over in MIllennium, the Daughters of Janus in Underground, and against Coral Rose and Jason Cashe in Seattle Pro itself.

They’ve got more defenses planned between Seattle Pro and Napa Valley Revolution...but that still doesn’t take away the sting of the Rose City Macaria Championship becoming retired while Annie was still champion. It doesn’t make losing the Bloodlust title to Brytain Rollins any easier - especially when Annie was this close to retaining! And going through that flaming table in MIllennium will probably always be a sticking point, in much the same way that loss to Marlon Cure continues to eat away at her, despite Annie’s protestations to the contrary! Annie shakes her head as she readies herself to speak again.

Annie Zellor: But not before me! You wanna set your sights on Mid-Atlantic Legacy or the Pride title. And maybe one day you can do it, Kazu...but not today. And not at All Star Showdown! This is one of the biggest shows of the year and if I’m gonna put the disappointments of Revelations and Only The Strong Survive behind me—

Marlon Cure can’t stop her this time!

Annie Zellor: —and walk outta the Staples Center with a win to my name. A win over you, Kazu. ‘Cause I said earlier in the year that 2019 is gonna be my most successful yet, and I’m gonna hold FGA gold again before the end of the year whether you like it or not...so put that in your pipe and smoke it…

With that, Annie jumps down off the trunk of the car, her title still in hand, as the scene comes to an end.

[Seth Iser]

We get a view from the trainer’s room and standing away from one of the chairs is Seth Iser after taking that defeat getting looked at for a potential concussion. We seem to have caught him at the end of all of this. Though there is one grunt from Seth as we’ve caught him at the end, the doctor seems to give a nod and the camera man tries to tilt the door slightly more to get a better view of the conversation. Unfortunately for him it seems to be at an end as Seth reaches behind him to grab his FGA Pride championship and lumber out of the room. And he notices the camera man. And he doesn’t look happy.


Seth Iser: What the HELL is wrong with you?


The champion marches further and puts his palm over the lense and you can hear him shove the man on his back. He’s far from pleased at the potential eavesdrop.


Seth Iser: Don’t you have any common sense at all!? You realize this would get your sorry ass arrested for snooping if we weren’t in a wrestling building right? Would you do that bullshit to someone like my daughter if she ever took this line of work? We don’t get much privacy to begin with because of media obligations and people like YOU make it worse. Honestly I’d kick your ass right here on the spot if it weren’t such a huge fine and that we wouldn’t want such an incident before the biggest show of the damned year. Count your blessings on that.


Seth shakes his head as he releases his hand from the camera and his great anger is giving him an adrenaline rush to pace back and forth even if he’s gritting his teeth doing so. With a scowl he shoots a dirty look back in that man’s direction before he finally calms down for a moment.


Seth Iser: But if you want something that damn bad, I’ll be brief and that is MORE than what you deserve…


Seth is spitting fire and there isn’t any joy in his step.


Seth Iser: Wasn’t my night in a six person tag but Tyler hasn’t conquered Wrestling’s Greatest Mind in the ultimate chess game in our sport. Two out of Three falls means you need to do something different all the time. Yeah he’s got that great weapon...the Eye of the Storm. But he’s going to need EVERY bit of his toolbox to try to rip away my chance at freedom. It won’t get him two falls against me.


Seth’s face lightens slightly as if he’s dawned on something big.


Seth Iser: Hell, I don’t think it’ll get him one. I think my freedom from this misnomer that you’re better than me...is I don’t think you can fight me left handed so to speak. I’ve had to adapt to the Pride Title rules...and I can’t use my greatest weapon, my right handed punch. But Tyler, your Eye of the Storm won’t beat me. If anything, I promise the unleash a completely different kind of storm to tear down the prison YOU built on me.


Seth’s face then darkens slightly as he taps the championship on his shoulder but there is a slight wince.


Seth Iser: And on that type of even ground...I’ll kick your ass all over L.A. You might be at your physical peak, dare I say a better wrestler than you were before the back injury. You’ve surpassed your previous limitations. I give you all the credit in the world for that. I’ll give you more credit for trying to live up to a certain championship I won in Australia and doing well for yourself in that regard. Hell, it even got you those victories over me. I’m not one who will come out here and tell a lie. But you’re not the only one who has evolved…


Seth’s face cracks into the slightest semblance of a smile.


Seth Iser: I might have lost this battle...but I think I just won our war in the States. Consider the code to what you are...cracked. It’s been revealed to me. Now it’s a matter of showing the work in L.A.There won’t be any talk of Vincent Moretti, or loaded pads, or these god damned fans thinking YOU are better than me. The only result is that there won’t be any doubt that at this point in time...even with what you are now...you’re inferior to me in the mental chess game. I’ll have my freedom from this prison, I’ll still be YOUR Pride Champion whether the sons a bitches who pay the tickets like me or not. And I’ll continue down my path of being the greatest holder of this championship this title has EVER seen.


And with that warning Seth delivers one brief glove shove to the camera man who tried to stand up again in a show of intimidation before he lumbers off in the opposite direction.

[Deleted]

Vertigo has come to an end, and the fans have begun to head towards the exits. Some satisfied with what they’ve seen and heard tonight, some not so much. But none of them are as pleased with the events of this evening as much as one woman backstage.

Peaches: I ain’t gonna lie, y’all…

There’s a smile on her face...somewhere beneath the guacamole. Peaches pushes her hair back from in front of her eyes, glancing down at the floor for a moment.

Peaches: ...that felt good. Real good.

Peaches grabs a nearby towel from off the bench she’s sitting on, using it to wipe the rest of the guacamole off her face before flicking it away to the floor. She looks towards the camera again, still smiling as the memories of laying Piper Lennon out among the remnants of lost tacos play over again in her mind.

Peaches: And next Saturday is gonna feel even better, when I do this all over again. Only that time when I do, I’m gonna take that Mid-Atlantic Legacy title from around her waist…

On that note, Peaches pushes herself up from the bench and walks away as the scene comes to an end.a

[The Mason]

We open up on a shot of the door to the trainer’s room. For a few moments, our shot lingers there seemingly without reason until finally the door is pulled open from the inside. Evan Envi walks out of the room, holding a black bag of cold compress against his face. His nose is visibly red and beginning to grow purple from the knee strike from Harter earlier in the night. Envi gives a nod to the doctor inside the room before the door swings shut-- but he audibly sighs as he takes a few steps… right into the path of the awaiting Spencer Burke.

Spencer Burke: That looks bad.

Evan lowers the cold pack and a small, bitter laugh escapes his mouth.

Evan Envi: Yeah. Yeah, it is. I promise you though…

He pauses, wincing as he presses the cold pack back to his nose, giving his voice a nasally octave as he continues.

Evan Envi: ...ha, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it does knowing that Dom’s walking around here somewhere... gloating, with another W over yours truly. That... that is the part that sting, man.

Spencer Burke: Well, on the subject of Dom Harter, I wanted to catch up with you because it’s been brought to my attention that you’ve officially accepted his challenge to a one-on-one match at All-Star Showdown.

Evan Envi: Ow. Yeah.

Envi sniffs a bit as he lowers the cold pack, giving Spencer a nod.

Evan Envi: Dom has a gripe for how things ended at Final Frontier. He legitimately feels that I stole the Frontier Lion’s Cup from him. That I stole a chance at the World Championship from him.

Sniff.

Evan Envi: Fine. I’ve heard every single word that he’s said. But what’s really starting to irk me is that Dom, somehow, has confused “unjust victory” with “inferior professional wrestler”, and that’s… hah, that doesn’t fly with me.

Evan shakes his head a bit, jaw clenched.

Evan Envi: Dom and Annie got the better of me twice in a row and I’ll be the first to admit--- Dom Harter’s steadily climbing back to the top of his game. And since I lost the World Title, I need to be doing the exact same thing. But obviously better. I don’t know what it is I’ve lost aside from that championship… but I’ve definitely lost something.

Envi looks like he’s prepared to see more, but with his lips still parted, his eyes drift up to something, or somebody past Spencer. The camera pans out to see the Tenacious Little Bastard himself walking towards the pair; that shit-eating grin on his face, his Seattle Pro tag team title on his shoulder, and his arms held out to his side in a welcoming gesture as he speaks up.

Dom Harter: I’ve heard the good news, Evan! Congratulations on sacking up for once in your life.

The back-handed compliment is met with steely derision from Evan, who knows better than to respond directly to it. That’s how Dom will bait him, and damn if he’s going to fall for the first one!

Spencer Burke: Dom, first off congratulations on the wi—

Dom Harter: Save it for someone who cares, Spencer. Because that’s two shows in a row I’ve came, I saw, I conquered. Two different tag team partners who couldn’t carry your sorry ass to a victory over me, Evan—amazing what a difference you not kicking me in the dick makes, right?

Evan rolls his eyes, laughing bitterly for a moment before turning toward Dom with a raised brow.

Evan Envi: If you’re really still that bent about it, let me remind you that you’re the one that started the whole ‘low blowing’ contest, y’know… you just didn’t get a trophy for it.

Mockingly, Evan winces a bit.

Evan Envi: Mm. Or a World Title, I guess.

But Harter just scoffs and slaps Evan on the shoulder. He doesn’t react though, not wanting to give Dom the satisfaction of knowing how much the Tenacious Little Bastard bugs him—or bugs everyone, really.

Dom Harter: Funny man! You’re a funny man, Evan. And do you know what’s even funnier is that I know nobody is going to address the content of what I said earlier. They’ll likely address the tone; they’ll tell me I’m crying again, that I’m whining because somebody else got what I wanted, or that maybe I should shut up and do something about it…

Spencer Burke: Wel—

Dom Harter: ...and they’ll likely ignore our esteemed World champion hark back to some innocuous Twitter poll eighteen months or two years ago, right? Because it’s one rule for me, and one rule for everybody else. But, you see, I’m still here! I’ve beaten Johnny Karma, I came within an inch of winning the Gold Rush Rumble for a third time—only to lose to someone who’d be forgotten in an instant, apparently! And soon—very soon, Spencer!—thanks to Evan finally stepping up and being a real man for once in his life. Not hiding behind Camp Envi, or the Good Guys and that fine, glorious, Wondercup winning running back you’ve got in your employ…

Evan’s eyebrow quirks upwards at the implication; he’d almost forgotten that Nat plays for the Denver Divas - the LFL team co-owned by Dom Harter and Annie Zellor. But Dom, and that ever familiar crooked grin won’t let him forget it now.

Dom Harter: ...and next Saturday, in Los Angeles, we’ll be going one-on-one. An epic rematch for the ages! Two former FGA World Champions doing battle on the grandest stage! And soon—VERY SOON, Spencer!—I’ll have another name added to my list. Another former FGA World Champion fallen at my feet. And then—THEN!—nobody, not even Jenevieve Geroux herself, will be able to deny me my rightful shot at the FGA World Championship. Right, Evan?

Evan narrows his eyes at Dom-- and blinks a few times, clearing his throat. Whereas Dom just continues smirking at his foe.

Evan Envi: Sorry. I started zoning out there. But I caught up in the end. And-- look, dude, if you’re looking for a World Title shot, you’re not going through me to get it. I’ve been trying to give you a little credit, man, but don’t let these two tag matches fool you. When it’s just you and me out there at All-Star Showdown…

Evan sighs a little, giving Dom a once-over before smirking into the face of the Tenacious Little Bastard.

Evan Envi: I’m gonna sabotage your whole five-point World Title plan.

He winks at Dom and gives Spencer a nod.

Evan Envi: These things happen. Later, guys.

Evan turns to make his way back toward the dressing room area, only to get grabbed by the shoulder. Harter spins him around and the two men are face to face once again.

Dom Harter: We’re not done here, Evan.

Envi glances at Dom, then to the spot on his shoulder where he was grabbed, looking down for a moment with a thoughtful expression before he looks back up toward Harter curiously.

Evan Envi: We’re about as done as…

He leans forward a bit, looking into Dom’s eye as he continues quietly.

Evan Envi: ...your title aspirations, Dom. What’s it been-- nine months since you choked in the Frontier Lions Cup? Two years since you choked against Johnny Karma? And, what-- five years since you last had a proper shout for a shot at the FGA World Championship? But sure, keep dreaming…

Evan twists the dagger in Dom’s heart a little more with that last sarcastic jibe, before he turns around to leave once more-- only to get spun around again! This time, however, Dom doesn’t want to talk. That Seattle Pro tag team title that was on his shoulder is now in his hand as he slams it into Evan’s face, knocking The Chief flat on his back.

Spencer Burke: Oh--!

Envi blinks hard, raising a hand to his nose, stunned from the impact. Disoriented, he holds his crimson-covered fingers in front of his face, eyes glassy. The blood starts to trickle from Envi’s nose again as Harter stands over him, chest heaving, nostrils flared in anger...when he turns to see a terrified Spencer Burke standing there. It all happened in an instant, and the interviewer is still trying to process it. So Dom flashes him a quick, unconvincing smirk.

Dom Harter: Nothing to see here, Spencer…

Dom quips as he tries to walk away, leaving Evan down on the floor. Spencer takes a timid step forward before shouting into the distance.

Spencer Burke: Uh-- help?

Spencer looks nervously down at Evan before walking into the trainer’s room to find help as the scene comes to an end, fading to black on the barely-conscious Chief.