Raising the bar
Mar 29, 2012 18:07:52 GMT -5
Post by The Rogue on Mar 29, 2012 18:07:52 GMT -5
A voice cuts through the darkness. Cold. Captivatingly so. Capturing the very essence of the dark black from whence it comes.
Mike: This week there won’t be any pleasantries. There has been no camera following me around, looking in to the ins and outs of my life. The life of the Champion. Lack of gold means lack of interest. But that’s something I wouldn’t miss. All week, all I have heard is Blaine and about my legacy being over. The utter ignorance of all of these statements is blinding. Moronic. Tragically so. How can anyone put into question anything that I have done? First ever FGA Heavyweight Champion. Seven matches undefeated. Still top of the power rankings. Continuously top. The single most dominating force in the entire company and hands down the best wrestler. My only flaw was over confidence. Generally when I hit Epica, there is only one road from there. Blaine brought something extra that I seriously did not expect. Something I felt only I had. The heart of a Champion. Preston Blake is indeed a class act. Love him or hate him, Preston will put up a challenge and push Blaine to the edge of his limits. Unfortunately I see only one end of the main event of Spring Breakage. Blaine’s self belief is now only equaled by one other, and it isn’t Preston Blake. Blaine Harrison will walk out with the Championship still secure in his possession. I am positive of that. So, Blaine. Forget the three victory thing completely. As far as I am concerned there is only one person that deserves the first REAL shot at your gold. The guy at the top of the rankings. The guy who has won three matches twice over with one to spare. The Raise-The-Bar-Superstar is the number one contender. End of. So when my rematch comes, you better be ready. You’re only holding that for me to take away some of the pressure. Now that I no longer have my undefeated streak and no longer have my Title, I have nothing to lose. I don’t have to prove myself, because I have already done it. I don’t have to worry about a further mark on my record because I’ll still be the guy that lasted longer without a blemish than anyone. And regardless of whether or not I take you down, I’ll still be the first ever Champion. You have still everything to prove. Was it a fluke? Did you catch me on the worst day of life? Was I too distracted by the life threatening match I have at the Supershow? Will you walk away from me for a second time with the FGA gold? I doubt it. You do too. But we’ll see. But state the fact that I am coming for you. Believe it. I’m the golden boy of the company. I’m still the top guy even without the title. So the board are going to bend over backwards to accommodate my wishes. You’ll see. Until then, Mr. Harrison.
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March 25th @raisethebar says Ready and willing to finally put an end to all of this.
---------------------------------------
March 25th blog taken from MichaelTomkins.rtbs.com:
Let’s face it, the last few weeks have been sobering. The big target on my back finally caught up with me, and by someone I could not have expected. Blaine Harrison is an admirable wrestler with many fine qualities, and I respect that and him. The one feature that he had in this match was the same as I had going into 2012: A New Odyssey. The underdog vibe. No one expected him to win. Me included. Hell, probably him too. But he managed to use that and dig deep to take my most prized possession away from me. They say time heals all wounds and I believe that. In time, I will have my shot and I will take it with both hands and be the first ever Two Time FGA Heavyweight Champion. You can all quote me on that. But for now I can’t make the same mistake twice, can I? I can not look past the challenge in front of me to what comes after. This match with the Slammer has been a long time coming. Emotions in me have been running wild, because he has time and time again tried to throw me off and finally succeeded. So in our Street Fight, it will finally end. This pointless feud where he will get what is coming to him. Watch this space.
---------------------------------------
Mike: For fuck sake! Jess, have we not been over this? It’s booked. It’s happening! There is no way out of it now. And that’s if I wanted to. Now, more than ever, I have something to prove. Micky has got the best of me on two separate occasions. He’s been out for my blood from his debut and I have to show him that I can not be put down. Blaine beating me has got everyone talking about the Supershow. Everyone that believed I could do it has now turned on me. The whole entire company is backing that Irish fool to do a number on me and end any chance of regaining my momentum that I had. And you want me to step down?
Jess: Mike! This is not about your image. It’s not about you winning or losing. Friday night, win or lose, you are going to get hurt. Bad! Can you not see that? You might walk out with bragging rights, but at what cost? It’s a street fight, Mike. That means he can do anything he wants to you and it will be legal. I have looked into his background. He’s dangerous, Mikey. Really dangerous. I don’t know how or why he managed to get a contract and a work permit in the States, but he is bad news. I am worried.
Mike: Then be worried. And after you will see there was nothing to worry about.
Jess: Oh, great! Do you think that will make me feel better?
Mike: Well what do you want me to say exactly? It’s out of my control.
Jess: It’s your fault in the first place. This match was your idea because your ego got in your way. If you had have just not taken the bate with Grace, you would still at least have Uncle Tim in your corner.
Mike: So now we’re going to pull up that? I did nothing wrong there, Jess. You know that!
Jess: I’m not saying you did.
Mike: Sounds to me like you are!
Jess: Mikey, listen…
Mike: No, Jess, you listen! Friday night will happen and I will look Micky O’Reilly right in the eye and take the fight to him. He will regret the day he ever crossed paths with me. And whoever is backing him will see what a piss poor investment he was and send him home. Problem solved.
Jess: But in the mean time? What about you? He could really hurt you, Mikey. And then what?
Mike: If that happens, we’ll worry about it then. For now, shut your damn mouth and stay out of this.
---------------------------------------
The scene opens to another run of the mill, Holiday Inn hotel room. Nothing different than the last several that Michael Tomkins has stayed in while the FGA continues it’s tour throughout the East. Mike slowly walks out from the right, wearing a navy blue Yves Saint Lauren suit, freshly pressed. He turns, in an intentionally slow manner, smiling arrogantly at the camera. He does a mocking turn, showing it off before a more serious expression crosses his face.
Mike: Micky “The Slammer” O’Reilly. Our night seems to have finally come. Two months, wer have been building to this. Everything that has happened to either of us has led us here. But then, that’s what you wanted, right? You seem to have made your whole career center around me and “exposing me” and all that utter bull shit. That’s all it was, right? The very thing you were accused of the first night you came to the company. You wanted to make a name for yourself by attacking the best guy in Frontier. You thought it would bring you straight to the top of the rankings and make you a Champion. Well that part backfired on you, seeing as Blaine is now the Champion and our match is a non-title match. That’s the one thing about losing the Championship that I am actually happy about. Because the Irish piece of utter garbage will not be the Champion so long as I am here.
He pauses, his serious expression seeming to grow slightly darker. Then a twisted half smile appears. He closes his eyes, thinking. When he opens them, he seems a different person. Almost unrecognizable.
Mike: As for the oh so kind words that you spouted at me in your promo. Well, it just goes to show that you make just as much sense sober as you do when you are inebriated. I will not make any excuses for our past encounters. I get that I might have been bested. That’s fine. After all, you are right. You are the most dangerous man in the FGA. But what you are failing to mention is that I am still the best man in the company. Your unkind words were way off the mark. Forget the cowboy suit and my show size, which is a ten if you wanted to know, because none of that is going to matter at Spring Breakage. Dangerous vs. best will be an explosive encounter where everyone will see what really matters in the wrestling game. And when I beat you in your element, no one will ever question me again. When I have the next legitimate shot at the FGA Heavyweight Champion, there will be no whining or complaining. You think Mercier was a handful, even if you lost “because of you?” Well I am one guy on a list of a few that has defeated him. He is good. I am better. Fact.
He pauses again, trying to let that sink in. His dark expression full of self belief. Michael Tomkins arrogance is seeping through every pour in his body.
Mike: That’s right. I say it all and I mean it. They don’t call me the Raise-The-Bar-Superstar for nothing. People like Mercier and Scott show you what an above average wrestler is capable of, and then I show you what greatness is. Micky you look me in the eyes after our match and try to tell me that I am not the best damn wrestler you have ever gotten into the ring with. I will see for myself how much you lie through your teeth if you do. Even Blaine, who beat me, will admit it. No one has or will ever be this good. Fact. That’s why when people receive a mouthful of my left boot, they get a taste of greatness. And you can try and get into my head anyway that you want. Your two months worth of build up to this match will be over in three seconds fella. Three seconds that I am taking back. My three seconds. This match means everything to you. You want to prove to the company that you are a serious threat. You know what? To me this is just about squashing that annoying fly on my wind shield. After I win, it’s just dotting the exclamation mark at the end of my name. You are not the bane of my existence. I am not afraid. You are just another drunken idiot that I have to step over at the door to immortality.
His hand raises, to show three fingers held up.
Mike: Tomorrow night it finishes. You’re finished. They’ll tear up your papers and send you on the first garbage boat back home. Have a safe trip, Micky. I hope… You know what? I don’t give a shit. Burn in hell, you piece of crap!
The scene fades to nothingness….
Mike: This week there won’t be any pleasantries. There has been no camera following me around, looking in to the ins and outs of my life. The life of the Champion. Lack of gold means lack of interest. But that’s something I wouldn’t miss. All week, all I have heard is Blaine and about my legacy being over. The utter ignorance of all of these statements is blinding. Moronic. Tragically so. How can anyone put into question anything that I have done? First ever FGA Heavyweight Champion. Seven matches undefeated. Still top of the power rankings. Continuously top. The single most dominating force in the entire company and hands down the best wrestler. My only flaw was over confidence. Generally when I hit Epica, there is only one road from there. Blaine brought something extra that I seriously did not expect. Something I felt only I had. The heart of a Champion. Preston Blake is indeed a class act. Love him or hate him, Preston will put up a challenge and push Blaine to the edge of his limits. Unfortunately I see only one end of the main event of Spring Breakage. Blaine’s self belief is now only equaled by one other, and it isn’t Preston Blake. Blaine Harrison will walk out with the Championship still secure in his possession. I am positive of that. So, Blaine. Forget the three victory thing completely. As far as I am concerned there is only one person that deserves the first REAL shot at your gold. The guy at the top of the rankings. The guy who has won three matches twice over with one to spare. The Raise-The-Bar-Superstar is the number one contender. End of. So when my rematch comes, you better be ready. You’re only holding that for me to take away some of the pressure. Now that I no longer have my undefeated streak and no longer have my Title, I have nothing to lose. I don’t have to prove myself, because I have already done it. I don’t have to worry about a further mark on my record because I’ll still be the guy that lasted longer without a blemish than anyone. And regardless of whether or not I take you down, I’ll still be the first ever Champion. You have still everything to prove. Was it a fluke? Did you catch me on the worst day of life? Was I too distracted by the life threatening match I have at the Supershow? Will you walk away from me for a second time with the FGA gold? I doubt it. You do too. But we’ll see. But state the fact that I am coming for you. Believe it. I’m the golden boy of the company. I’m still the top guy even without the title. So the board are going to bend over backwards to accommodate my wishes. You’ll see. Until then, Mr. Harrison.
---------------------------------------
March 25th @raisethebar says Ready and willing to finally put an end to all of this.
---------------------------------------
March 25th blog taken from MichaelTomkins.rtbs.com:
Let’s face it, the last few weeks have been sobering. The big target on my back finally caught up with me, and by someone I could not have expected. Blaine Harrison is an admirable wrestler with many fine qualities, and I respect that and him. The one feature that he had in this match was the same as I had going into 2012: A New Odyssey. The underdog vibe. No one expected him to win. Me included. Hell, probably him too. But he managed to use that and dig deep to take my most prized possession away from me. They say time heals all wounds and I believe that. In time, I will have my shot and I will take it with both hands and be the first ever Two Time FGA Heavyweight Champion. You can all quote me on that. But for now I can’t make the same mistake twice, can I? I can not look past the challenge in front of me to what comes after. This match with the Slammer has been a long time coming. Emotions in me have been running wild, because he has time and time again tried to throw me off and finally succeeded. So in our Street Fight, it will finally end. This pointless feud where he will get what is coming to him. Watch this space.
---------------------------------------
Mike: For fuck sake! Jess, have we not been over this? It’s booked. It’s happening! There is no way out of it now. And that’s if I wanted to. Now, more than ever, I have something to prove. Micky has got the best of me on two separate occasions. He’s been out for my blood from his debut and I have to show him that I can not be put down. Blaine beating me has got everyone talking about the Supershow. Everyone that believed I could do it has now turned on me. The whole entire company is backing that Irish fool to do a number on me and end any chance of regaining my momentum that I had. And you want me to step down?
Jess: Mike! This is not about your image. It’s not about you winning or losing. Friday night, win or lose, you are going to get hurt. Bad! Can you not see that? You might walk out with bragging rights, but at what cost? It’s a street fight, Mike. That means he can do anything he wants to you and it will be legal. I have looked into his background. He’s dangerous, Mikey. Really dangerous. I don’t know how or why he managed to get a contract and a work permit in the States, but he is bad news. I am worried.
Mike: Then be worried. And after you will see there was nothing to worry about.
Jess: Oh, great! Do you think that will make me feel better?
Mike: Well what do you want me to say exactly? It’s out of my control.
Jess: It’s your fault in the first place. This match was your idea because your ego got in your way. If you had have just not taken the bate with Grace, you would still at least have Uncle Tim in your corner.
Mike: So now we’re going to pull up that? I did nothing wrong there, Jess. You know that!
Jess: I’m not saying you did.
Mike: Sounds to me like you are!
Jess: Mikey, listen…
Mike: No, Jess, you listen! Friday night will happen and I will look Micky O’Reilly right in the eye and take the fight to him. He will regret the day he ever crossed paths with me. And whoever is backing him will see what a piss poor investment he was and send him home. Problem solved.
Jess: But in the mean time? What about you? He could really hurt you, Mikey. And then what?
Mike: If that happens, we’ll worry about it then. For now, shut your damn mouth and stay out of this.
---------------------------------------
The scene opens to another run of the mill, Holiday Inn hotel room. Nothing different than the last several that Michael Tomkins has stayed in while the FGA continues it’s tour throughout the East. Mike slowly walks out from the right, wearing a navy blue Yves Saint Lauren suit, freshly pressed. He turns, in an intentionally slow manner, smiling arrogantly at the camera. He does a mocking turn, showing it off before a more serious expression crosses his face.
Mike: Micky “The Slammer” O’Reilly. Our night seems to have finally come. Two months, wer have been building to this. Everything that has happened to either of us has led us here. But then, that’s what you wanted, right? You seem to have made your whole career center around me and “exposing me” and all that utter bull shit. That’s all it was, right? The very thing you were accused of the first night you came to the company. You wanted to make a name for yourself by attacking the best guy in Frontier. You thought it would bring you straight to the top of the rankings and make you a Champion. Well that part backfired on you, seeing as Blaine is now the Champion and our match is a non-title match. That’s the one thing about losing the Championship that I am actually happy about. Because the Irish piece of utter garbage will not be the Champion so long as I am here.
He pauses, his serious expression seeming to grow slightly darker. Then a twisted half smile appears. He closes his eyes, thinking. When he opens them, he seems a different person. Almost unrecognizable.
Mike: As for the oh so kind words that you spouted at me in your promo. Well, it just goes to show that you make just as much sense sober as you do when you are inebriated. I will not make any excuses for our past encounters. I get that I might have been bested. That’s fine. After all, you are right. You are the most dangerous man in the FGA. But what you are failing to mention is that I am still the best man in the company. Your unkind words were way off the mark. Forget the cowboy suit and my show size, which is a ten if you wanted to know, because none of that is going to matter at Spring Breakage. Dangerous vs. best will be an explosive encounter where everyone will see what really matters in the wrestling game. And when I beat you in your element, no one will ever question me again. When I have the next legitimate shot at the FGA Heavyweight Champion, there will be no whining or complaining. You think Mercier was a handful, even if you lost “because of you?” Well I am one guy on a list of a few that has defeated him. He is good. I am better. Fact.
He pauses again, trying to let that sink in. His dark expression full of self belief. Michael Tomkins arrogance is seeping through every pour in his body.
Mike: That’s right. I say it all and I mean it. They don’t call me the Raise-The-Bar-Superstar for nothing. People like Mercier and Scott show you what an above average wrestler is capable of, and then I show you what greatness is. Micky you look me in the eyes after our match and try to tell me that I am not the best damn wrestler you have ever gotten into the ring with. I will see for myself how much you lie through your teeth if you do. Even Blaine, who beat me, will admit it. No one has or will ever be this good. Fact. That’s why when people receive a mouthful of my left boot, they get a taste of greatness. And you can try and get into my head anyway that you want. Your two months worth of build up to this match will be over in three seconds fella. Three seconds that I am taking back. My three seconds. This match means everything to you. You want to prove to the company that you are a serious threat. You know what? To me this is just about squashing that annoying fly on my wind shield. After I win, it’s just dotting the exclamation mark at the end of my name. You are not the bane of my existence. I am not afraid. You are just another drunken idiot that I have to step over at the door to immortality.
His hand raises, to show three fingers held up.
Mike: Tomorrow night it finishes. You’re finished. They’ll tear up your papers and send you on the first garbage boat back home. Have a safe trip, Micky. I hope… You know what? I don’t give a shit. Burn in hell, you piece of crap!
The scene fades to nothingness….