Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2016 19:52:35 GMT -5
{It was one for the history books. In what was arguably the shock of the night, the Nation’s Trending Topic succeeded in proving why in fact he is the Hardcore Champion. But unfortunately the celebration would be short lived as he would thereafter be victim of an ambush at the hands of an envious rival waiting in the wings.
The Assassin was said to be on immediate bed rest following his defeat at Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre; and it seems the time away had done no favors to his attitude. Following the attack, the camera comes into focus inside the Trainer’s Office where Trenton appears to be waiting on the results of his tests; still dressed in his in-ring attire – dark nylon trunks, knee pads, and high wrestling boots – with an ice pack sleeping on the back of his neck and Stephanie at his side – just as loyal as always – as he rests on the patient’s table.}
Trenton: He’s really done it this time…if he thought he’d seen me at my angriest – if he thought two months ago was brutal – then he hasn’t even begun to understand the meaning of the word(s). What occurred at Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre will look like a day at the beach compared to what I’ll do to him at Spring Breakdown. Lying helplessly in a hospital bed while I paraded around with – what is now, my, Hardcore Championship for two months may have seemed like Hell to him; but he’ll come to find that there are worse fates than sitting on your ass with an easily treatable injury. Fates such as never being permitted to wrestle again.
{Stephanie looks at him with sorrowful eyes, bringing her arms to a fold around his right arm, and laying her head on his massive shoulder to console him.}
Stephanie: Whatever happens to him is too good. He deserves a lot worse for putting his hands on you, AGAIN. I don’t know what his problem is.
Trenton: I’ll tell you what his problem is; Assassin doesn’t have respect for anyone but Assassin. Albeit, I couldn’t care less if he respects me or not, but as the previous holder – as a man who for forty two days has ate, slept, and bled as the Hardcore Champion – at least respect what it stands for. But he couldn’t even do that! I guess having to take a backseat to the very guy who’d taken him to his limits was just too mighty an idea for his ego to bear. If you ask me, he doesn’t deserve to be within spitting distance of this Title; although as hard as it is for me to admit, that isn’t my call to make.
{Stephanie makes another attempt at consoling him with her delicate touch; she further squeezes his arm and strokes the side of his hair. Suddenly the door swings open and in comes the Head Trainer. In his hand he holds a clipboard, attached to it were results that Trenton’s life depended on. }
Head Trainer: Well Trent, we got your results back and as luck would have it, you’re in the clear. I would prescribe some aspirin and maybe a good night’s rest, you should be as right as rain in the morning.
Stephanie: Thanks Mitch.
{She nods so graciously, somehow maintaining a level of cool as she wanted to jump out of her skin from excitement. Once the Head Trainer, Mitch, departs from the room again; she leans in to stamp his cheek with a kiss.}
Stephanie: Wow, what luck, huh?!
{But what was this? Trenton not showing an ounce of relief from the news; ‘what could be wrong now’, she thought to herself.}
Stephanie: Hello, Earth to Trent! You just got some pretty fantastic news; you should be leaping for joy right now.
{His face was tight and focused at first, he’d soon begin to move, ever so slowly forcing himself to peer in her direction in order to address her latest claims.}
Trenton: Maybe ‘cause he didn’t attack me with any intent on injuring me. Come on you’ve seen Assassin, does he look like the type of guy who can’t get the job done? If he had half a mind to do me in, he’d done so without hesitation. The fact that I’m still able to walk out of here with only a few scratches and a bruise here or there isn’t by way of luck or a miracle, he’s sending a message. Telling me to prepare for the fight of my life. Well, the message has been received, loud and clear. If he wants a piece of me, then I’m prepared to bring him the whole enchilada.
{That intense glare never left his face; he meant every word that rolled off his tongue and he was prepared to put said words into action.}
The Assassin was said to be on immediate bed rest following his defeat at Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre; and it seems the time away had done no favors to his attitude. Following the attack, the camera comes into focus inside the Trainer’s Office where Trenton appears to be waiting on the results of his tests; still dressed in his in-ring attire – dark nylon trunks, knee pads, and high wrestling boots – with an ice pack sleeping on the back of his neck and Stephanie at his side – just as loyal as always – as he rests on the patient’s table.}
Trenton: He’s really done it this time…if he thought he’d seen me at my angriest – if he thought two months ago was brutal – then he hasn’t even begun to understand the meaning of the word(s). What occurred at Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre will look like a day at the beach compared to what I’ll do to him at Spring Breakdown. Lying helplessly in a hospital bed while I paraded around with – what is now, my, Hardcore Championship for two months may have seemed like Hell to him; but he’ll come to find that there are worse fates than sitting on your ass with an easily treatable injury. Fates such as never being permitted to wrestle again.
{Stephanie looks at him with sorrowful eyes, bringing her arms to a fold around his right arm, and laying her head on his massive shoulder to console him.}
Stephanie: Whatever happens to him is too good. He deserves a lot worse for putting his hands on you, AGAIN. I don’t know what his problem is.
Trenton: I’ll tell you what his problem is; Assassin doesn’t have respect for anyone but Assassin. Albeit, I couldn’t care less if he respects me or not, but as the previous holder – as a man who for forty two days has ate, slept, and bled as the Hardcore Champion – at least respect what it stands for. But he couldn’t even do that! I guess having to take a backseat to the very guy who’d taken him to his limits was just too mighty an idea for his ego to bear. If you ask me, he doesn’t deserve to be within spitting distance of this Title; although as hard as it is for me to admit, that isn’t my call to make.
{Stephanie makes another attempt at consoling him with her delicate touch; she further squeezes his arm and strokes the side of his hair. Suddenly the door swings open and in comes the Head Trainer. In his hand he holds a clipboard, attached to it were results that Trenton’s life depended on. }
Head Trainer: Well Trent, we got your results back and as luck would have it, you’re in the clear. I would prescribe some aspirin and maybe a good night’s rest, you should be as right as rain in the morning.
Stephanie: Thanks Mitch.
{She nods so graciously, somehow maintaining a level of cool as she wanted to jump out of her skin from excitement. Once the Head Trainer, Mitch, departs from the room again; she leans in to stamp his cheek with a kiss.}
Stephanie: Wow, what luck, huh?!
{But what was this? Trenton not showing an ounce of relief from the news; ‘what could be wrong now’, she thought to herself.}
Stephanie: Hello, Earth to Trent! You just got some pretty fantastic news; you should be leaping for joy right now.
{His face was tight and focused at first, he’d soon begin to move, ever so slowly forcing himself to peer in her direction in order to address her latest claims.}
Trenton: Maybe ‘cause he didn’t attack me with any intent on injuring me. Come on you’ve seen Assassin, does he look like the type of guy who can’t get the job done? If he had half a mind to do me in, he’d done so without hesitation. The fact that I’m still able to walk out of here with only a few scratches and a bruise here or there isn’t by way of luck or a miracle, he’s sending a message. Telling me to prepare for the fight of my life. Well, the message has been received, loud and clear. If he wants a piece of me, then I’m prepared to bring him the whole enchilada.
{That intense glare never left his face; he meant every word that rolled off his tongue and he was prepared to put said words into action.}