Post by Cross Recoba on Apr 8, 2019 18:08:33 GMT -5
PREVIOUSLY
- Cross joined a poker game with his neigbor, Tim, and other well to do neigbors such as Harvey and Christian
- In South Korea, Cross met Hideo Koshinka, the point man for the Yakuza's plan to launder money, Recoba still can't shake the uneasy feeling the man gave him
- No-one fucked or threatened to fuck Grandma Cooper. In unrelated news, Duracell shares rose
Well, we came up short but not before I left an impression on the Hollister Terminator, no-one designs a cash register to buckle after all. I could congratulate the Zombie Clan on their win but we all know the drill, we’re candid here, and so all I’ll say to our inaugural tag champions is well done, you’re still the answer to a question that no-one is asking.
I still wasn’t done influencing the company once the match finished, I’ll take partial credit for the Fite TV cancellation. Sure, I didn’t electrocute anyone or throw them like a lawn dart off a building - but bounties do funny things, and why would I risk my standing in the company when I could get others to do my dirty work?
If I’d have been more direct in getting my revenge I’d hardly expect to be in the main event for the first show on the African continent, would I? And what a treat it’s going to be - The Box Office of VPW squaring off against Graps Lassie and I intend to make sure that the Apex Champion remembers that he holds that belt, not through skill but because I let him…
They say when you walk down the aisle towards the ring the lights shine brightest and the visceral roar of the crowd reverberates inside of you the loudest. Normally, that would be true, tonight inside the catacomb that was backstage at the Jo-Hall it seemed those accolades were reserved for the medical area.
Cross had been corralled there as soon as he and Spiral had been escorted through the curtain by VPW Security. He’d long grown tired of arguing against it, the term ‘medically disqualified for future events’ and the boogeyman that is whatever athletic commission they invoke were used to make it a mandatory option. The adrenaline was draining from his body, replaced by the reminder that Dakota, as fond of her as he was, had managed to land a perfectly aimed chair shot to his spine.
A bell sounded out somewhere, Recoba wasn’t entirely sure if it was to signify the winners of the match or if Cooper had scored a headshot when he sent him flying into the food truck. Maybe it wasn’t Cooper, the end of the match for Spiral and Recoba had been a blur. Was it the superkick from Devlin? No, he had enough sense to roll out the ring as soon as he could, then there was the leg trip from the Zombie Clan that saw him taking an extreme close-up of the ring apron.
As the medical professional shone a light to Cross’ eyes he quickly scanned around the room and managed to be surprised and unsurprised. There was no Vannah White, but equally, there was no sign of Dakota either.
Now, here’s the great thing about this match-up. Cosmo has predictably come out and tried to act like he’s not bothered, that I’m just something he has to get out of the way in between a media appearance and a set of crunches the following morning. The issue is that if you’re going to come out and take that stance you maybe should wait a while, let the announced card breathe a little. I mean, call me a cynic but while some might listen to the words you spoke and tell me ‘Cross, he’s got your number’ I’m looking at the timing, how you don’t punch down but you will make it your immediate priority to tell me that, how you don’t tend to give people like myself the time of day but wait, you have something to say, we need to give you validation. How you’re going to tell me about the hard work you put in, but I know that I’m just ‘stock opponent #4957’. Tell me, Cosmo, is it wrong that I think I might have you on the backfoot?
I don’t blame you for viewing this match with trepidation; after all, I hit you so hard with that cash register that I’m willing to bet you spent the flight back to California shitting change. You talk about me having your attention for two weeks but ask yourself - ‘Why did Cross single me out?’, then when you’ve gone through all the answers that involve yourself maybe come to the realization that you’ve played your part beautifully in all of this. I got exactly what I wanted out of this, all it took was to call you out - I’ll give you an old Latin proverb to explain it a little clearer for you - here fishy, fishy...
Sleep and a healthy handful of pills had dulled the pain somewhat from last night’s match. Cross, at the very least, was more adept at taking in his surroundings with something approaching clarity. Osaka International was, as expected, teeming with life. A quick glance across the periphery alerted Cross to the omnipresence of photos being taken, the VPW merchandise visible behind the flash. Years ago this could be chalked up to the stereotypical view of the Japanese, but nowadays you were literally a Snapchat or a photo away from TMZ and a barrage of questions to accompany the mundane.
As he approached the boarding gate he spotted a swathe of VPW fans, or to be more precise, a cacophony of Co$mo fans.
“You’ll never beat the best!”
“You cost Cooper the match!”
“You’re not even the best wrestler in your team!”
Cross breathed what some might call a sigh of relief as he handed the attendant his ticket for first class and made a mental note to book an Uber as soon as he could upon landing at JFK.
I’ve told you before but when you arrived I viewed you like a cat might view a mouse, I know I can get you but I can wait, I can be patient. The fact that we were matched up on the pay-per-view became a happy coincidence. I wasn’t going to bust in on the Devlin and Cooper show, mainly because it didn’t affect me. But I’ll give you something for free, I’m not going to threaten your grandmother’s virtue - I don’t need to, you’ve got a fortnight of me residing under your skin, and why? Because of the almighty dollar, because controversy makes cash, but most importantly because while you might be the Apex Champ; to me, you’re just a chump who doesn’t bite but instead chomps!
With the Kobe steak finished Recoba pushed his plate away from him and took a sip of the Japanese malt whisky that sat next to it. He glanced around at his company and predictably saw a sea of laptops and sleeping masks. Sleep wasn’t an option, nor did he bring a laptop. He turned on his phone and looked out of the window, the eight hours left on the plane would need some form of distraction from the endless void that cloud cover created.
He’d been relieved that Koshinka was unavailable in Osaka, the personality of the man continued to grate on Recoba through an unplaceable attribute he still couldn’t name. The phone vibrated twice as it kicked past the booting-up stage and he saw a text from Beasant confirming the Japanese funding had reached New York. It was the second message that raised an eyebrow.
His mind still slightly hazy began to try and calculate the running debt that Tim’s friend, Christian, had accrued throughout their poker matches and, give or take, it was twenty grand and, from experience of playing the man, the debt was only going to travel one way.
Part of Recoba felt a certain amount of guilt and responsibility, it was only natural. Mostly though he’d seen Christian for what he was, what those in Vegas would deem a degenerate gambler. At that moment in time Cross was struggling to find a way to address the debt in a way that would suit both himself and avoid any friction between the group of friends. Currently, he saw him as a man who was betting in a burning house. He looked at his watch, it was just after one in the morning New York time, he could reply now and at least be guaranteed that for at least six hours he wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“What do you have in mind? I’m open to any suggestion for you to readdress the outstanding balance.”
Recoba put down his phone and tried to focus on how the next time he saw Dakota would go, she’d warned him when they rekindled what they had that she’d changed and she hadn’t undersold it. Now it was more of a question as to how she’d approach the small fact that where he had shown mercy and reticence at hitting someone he cared about, she’d shown him eleven pounds of steel swung with everything she had.
His thoughts were interrupted as the phone vibrated once more. He replied.
Now, I know - most of what I’m saying is wrestling sacrilege. You’re Cosmo Cooper, you’re the Lord and Barefoot Savior, you’re ‘Co$mo’. You get offers all over the world, you’ve won everything everywhere you went yet in Japan you came up short. For the first time in VPW you came up short, you can say it was because of Devlin but what caused it to get to that? Want to eat some humble pie and admit that you should have put the match away sooner? That when you hit that overhead belly-to-belly suplex you should have capitalized but instead, because you went for the highlight reel minutes earlier with the suicide dive, you were sucking air on the canvas?
Like it or not, Cooper, we’re more alike than you ever want to admit, the only difference is that despite the fact that you give the crowd every opportunity to be booed they cheer you and that suits you. You NEED to be cheered, and yet at Allegiance, I saw the veneer come off that visage. I saw a man driven by desperation as you threw me into the concession stand, I saw a man having to rely on his B, C, and D game to keep up. I’ll even give you the justification that since you’ve been here you’ve really only seen VPW’s skill level through Cartel and Devlin, that you regard anything that happens before or after you to be of no consequence to you.
That changes in Angola. We get to find out who is the master of our shared finisher, we get to find out if I’m full of shit or you’ve bought into your own hype so much that you don’t know where it stops and your talent kicks in. I mean, it’s fascinating really. How will our Lord Cosmo and Savior deal with his first loss in VPW? Will he walk into the ring without a worry or will he bargain with himself? Will he tell himself that it was all just a blip, that Devlin was the issue, that everything on Planet Cosmo is just chipper?
You tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, I know I have flaws, it’s called being human. I noticed you didn’t make one reference to your loss when you were too busy trying to tear down a myth around me that doesn’t exist. Let me guess, Cosmo doesn’t do the past, of course, he doesn’t. In your eyes, I’m willing to bet you’re happy this a non-title match because who the fuck do I think I am? I’ll let you into a little secret, I’m glad it’s not for the Apex Championship. You see, when, and it is a when, I leave you lying in the ring with a CONSECUTIVE loss you’ll have nowhere to hide. I won’t have upped my game for the title, I won’t have raised my standards because the belt was on the line, I’ll have beaten you because of the truth you know deep down, Valor Pro Wrestling is my playground and you’re just the new kid I let play in the sandpit!
- Cross joined a poker game with his neigbor, Tim, and other well to do neigbors such as Harvey and Christian
- In South Korea, Cross met Hideo Koshinka, the point man for the Yakuza's plan to launder money, Recoba still can't shake the uneasy feeling the man gave him
- No-one fucked or threatened to fuck Grandma Cooper. In unrelated news, Duracell shares rose
Well, we came up short but not before I left an impression on the Hollister Terminator, no-one designs a cash register to buckle after all. I could congratulate the Zombie Clan on their win but we all know the drill, we’re candid here, and so all I’ll say to our inaugural tag champions is well done, you’re still the answer to a question that no-one is asking.
I still wasn’t done influencing the company once the match finished, I’ll take partial credit for the Fite TV cancellation. Sure, I didn’t electrocute anyone or throw them like a lawn dart off a building - but bounties do funny things, and why would I risk my standing in the company when I could get others to do my dirty work?
If I’d have been more direct in getting my revenge I’d hardly expect to be in the main event for the first show on the African continent, would I? And what a treat it’s going to be - The Box Office of VPW squaring off against Graps Lassie and I intend to make sure that the Apex Champion remembers that he holds that belt, not through skill but because I let him…
They say when you walk down the aisle towards the ring the lights shine brightest and the visceral roar of the crowd reverberates inside of you the loudest. Normally, that would be true, tonight inside the catacomb that was backstage at the Jo-Hall it seemed those accolades were reserved for the medical area.
Cross had been corralled there as soon as he and Spiral had been escorted through the curtain by VPW Security. He’d long grown tired of arguing against it, the term ‘medically disqualified for future events’ and the boogeyman that is whatever athletic commission they invoke were used to make it a mandatory option. The adrenaline was draining from his body, replaced by the reminder that Dakota, as fond of her as he was, had managed to land a perfectly aimed chair shot to his spine.
A bell sounded out somewhere, Recoba wasn’t entirely sure if it was to signify the winners of the match or if Cooper had scored a headshot when he sent him flying into the food truck. Maybe it wasn’t Cooper, the end of the match for Spiral and Recoba had been a blur. Was it the superkick from Devlin? No, he had enough sense to roll out the ring as soon as he could, then there was the leg trip from the Zombie Clan that saw him taking an extreme close-up of the ring apron.
As the medical professional shone a light to Cross’ eyes he quickly scanned around the room and managed to be surprised and unsurprised. There was no Vannah White, but equally, there was no sign of Dakota either.
Now, here’s the great thing about this match-up. Cosmo has predictably come out and tried to act like he’s not bothered, that I’m just something he has to get out of the way in between a media appearance and a set of crunches the following morning. The issue is that if you’re going to come out and take that stance you maybe should wait a while, let the announced card breathe a little. I mean, call me a cynic but while some might listen to the words you spoke and tell me ‘Cross, he’s got your number’ I’m looking at the timing, how you don’t punch down but you will make it your immediate priority to tell me that, how you don’t tend to give people like myself the time of day but wait, you have something to say, we need to give you validation. How you’re going to tell me about the hard work you put in, but I know that I’m just ‘stock opponent #4957’. Tell me, Cosmo, is it wrong that I think I might have you on the backfoot?
I don’t blame you for viewing this match with trepidation; after all, I hit you so hard with that cash register that I’m willing to bet you spent the flight back to California shitting change. You talk about me having your attention for two weeks but ask yourself - ‘Why did Cross single me out?’, then when you’ve gone through all the answers that involve yourself maybe come to the realization that you’ve played your part beautifully in all of this. I got exactly what I wanted out of this, all it took was to call you out - I’ll give you an old Latin proverb to explain it a little clearer for you - here fishy, fishy...
Sleep and a healthy handful of pills had dulled the pain somewhat from last night’s match. Cross, at the very least, was more adept at taking in his surroundings with something approaching clarity. Osaka International was, as expected, teeming with life. A quick glance across the periphery alerted Cross to the omnipresence of photos being taken, the VPW merchandise visible behind the flash. Years ago this could be chalked up to the stereotypical view of the Japanese, but nowadays you were literally a Snapchat or a photo away from TMZ and a barrage of questions to accompany the mundane.
As he approached the boarding gate he spotted a swathe of VPW fans, or to be more precise, a cacophony of Co$mo fans.
“You’ll never beat the best!”
“You cost Cooper the match!”
“You’re not even the best wrestler in your team!”
Cross breathed what some might call a sigh of relief as he handed the attendant his ticket for first class and made a mental note to book an Uber as soon as he could upon landing at JFK.
I’ve told you before but when you arrived I viewed you like a cat might view a mouse, I know I can get you but I can wait, I can be patient. The fact that we were matched up on the pay-per-view became a happy coincidence. I wasn’t going to bust in on the Devlin and Cooper show, mainly because it didn’t affect me. But I’ll give you something for free, I’m not going to threaten your grandmother’s virtue - I don’t need to, you’ve got a fortnight of me residing under your skin, and why? Because of the almighty dollar, because controversy makes cash, but most importantly because while you might be the Apex Champ; to me, you’re just a chump who doesn’t bite but instead chomps!
With the Kobe steak finished Recoba pushed his plate away from him and took a sip of the Japanese malt whisky that sat next to it. He glanced around at his company and predictably saw a sea of laptops and sleeping masks. Sleep wasn’t an option, nor did he bring a laptop. He turned on his phone and looked out of the window, the eight hours left on the plane would need some form of distraction from the endless void that cloud cover created.
He’d been relieved that Koshinka was unavailable in Osaka, the personality of the man continued to grate on Recoba through an unplaceable attribute he still couldn’t name. The phone vibrated twice as it kicked past the booting-up stage and he saw a text from Beasant confirming the Japanese funding had reached New York. It was the second message that raised an eyebrow.
“Cross, text me when you’re back in the country, you’ve got to let me win back some of the money. Christian’
His mind still slightly hazy began to try and calculate the running debt that Tim’s friend, Christian, had accrued throughout their poker matches and, give or take, it was twenty grand and, from experience of playing the man, the debt was only going to travel one way.
Part of Recoba felt a certain amount of guilt and responsibility, it was only natural. Mostly though he’d seen Christian for what he was, what those in Vegas would deem a degenerate gambler. At that moment in time Cross was struggling to find a way to address the debt in a way that would suit both himself and avoid any friction between the group of friends. Currently, he saw him as a man who was betting in a burning house. He looked at his watch, it was just after one in the morning New York time, he could reply now and at least be guaranteed that for at least six hours he wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“What do you have in mind? I’m open to any suggestion for you to readdress the outstanding balance.”
Recoba put down his phone and tried to focus on how the next time he saw Dakota would go, she’d warned him when they rekindled what they had that she’d changed and she hadn’t undersold it. Now it was more of a question as to how she’d approach the small fact that where he had shown mercy and reticence at hitting someone he cared about, she’d shown him eleven pounds of steel swung with everything she had.
His thoughts were interrupted as the phone vibrated once more. He replied.
“Texas Hold ‘Em, my house, this week, if I win the debt is wiped out. If I lose, we can have that discussion then…”
Now, I know - most of what I’m saying is wrestling sacrilege. You’re Cosmo Cooper, you’re the Lord and Barefoot Savior, you’re ‘Co$mo’. You get offers all over the world, you’ve won everything everywhere you went yet in Japan you came up short. For the first time in VPW you came up short, you can say it was because of Devlin but what caused it to get to that? Want to eat some humble pie and admit that you should have put the match away sooner? That when you hit that overhead belly-to-belly suplex you should have capitalized but instead, because you went for the highlight reel minutes earlier with the suicide dive, you were sucking air on the canvas?
Like it or not, Cooper, we’re more alike than you ever want to admit, the only difference is that despite the fact that you give the crowd every opportunity to be booed they cheer you and that suits you. You NEED to be cheered, and yet at Allegiance, I saw the veneer come off that visage. I saw a man driven by desperation as you threw me into the concession stand, I saw a man having to rely on his B, C, and D game to keep up. I’ll even give you the justification that since you’ve been here you’ve really only seen VPW’s skill level through Cartel and Devlin, that you regard anything that happens before or after you to be of no consequence to you.
That changes in Angola. We get to find out who is the master of our shared finisher, we get to find out if I’m full of shit or you’ve bought into your own hype so much that you don’t know where it stops and your talent kicks in. I mean, it’s fascinating really. How will our Lord Cosmo and Savior deal with his first loss in VPW? Will he walk into the ring without a worry or will he bargain with himself? Will he tell himself that it was all just a blip, that Devlin was the issue, that everything on Planet Cosmo is just chipper?
You tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, I know I have flaws, it’s called being human. I noticed you didn’t make one reference to your loss when you were too busy trying to tear down a myth around me that doesn’t exist. Let me guess, Cosmo doesn’t do the past, of course, he doesn’t. In your eyes, I’m willing to bet you’re happy this a non-title match because who the fuck do I think I am? I’ll let you into a little secret, I’m glad it’s not for the Apex Championship. You see, when, and it is a when, I leave you lying in the ring with a CONSECUTIVE loss you’ll have nowhere to hide. I won’t have upped my game for the title, I won’t have raised my standards because the belt was on the line, I’ll have beaten you because of the truth you know deep down, Valor Pro Wrestling is my playground and you’re just the new kid I let play in the sandpit!