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ProtoWolf 2.0 Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 8:07 pm
Counting All The Assholes In The Room
Well I'm Definitely Not Alone... Well I'm Not Alone.
You're A Liar You're A Cheater You're A Fool
Well That's Just Like Me Ooohoo. And I Know You Too
Mr. Perfect Don't Exist My Little Friend And I Tell You That Again, And I Do It Again Counting All The Assholes In The Room Well I'm Definitely Not Alone. Well I'm Not Alone. Still Counting - Volbeat[Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome back Kelly King 2.0!] King came out onto the stage, walking with a dedicated purpose, doing his best Paul Heyman impression as he made his way down to the ring with a mic in his hand, fixing the tie on his suit. The fans boo'd him, having been subjected to the torture of his voice quite enough at the top of the show, but he had promised a monumental announcement during the show, and damn if Kelly King 2.0 didn't keep his promises. King stalked down the ramp and made his way up into the ring without issue, his kingly decrees for the night having already been enacted...
It was time to settle some more personal business.
King stood in the center of the ring, his free hand slipped between his shirt and his tie as he wheeled the wrist of the hand that held his microphone. He looked rather somber about the entire situation, whatever that situation may be. He took a long moment to start talking, especially because the fans in the arena were still passionately trying to tell him he was awful, scum, or otherwise a complete a*****e. Smacking his lips he tried to power through there chants. "Ladies and Gentleman, I have been working tirelessly all evening to solve some business related issues, and I have just gotten confirmation from my contacts. It is with extreme regret and apprehension that I must announce..."
"That Kelly King 2.0 vs Matt Shanahan will not happen at Spring in the Ring." King finished after a moment of hesitation, and just as he predicted, the fans began to boo. It took every ounce of will to keep from smirking at that, knowing the truth behind the lies he was about to spin.
"But do not blame me. I fought and clawed to save this match, I guarantee you people, which is why I spent all night on my cell phone. Unfortunately, I received some grievous news from the Philadelphia police department late yesterday afternoon. Matt Shanahan, after cutting his promo in which he declined my challenge to a match for control of the company... Well... Apparently Mr. Shanahan has been going through a lot recently. As many people know, a few years ago Matt lost someone very special to him, a man who was like family. He never really took it very well, and it has been very clear to those around him that he has been somewhat unbalanced since the incident. Unfortunately, the loss of control of BBW compounded on these already sensitive emotions... and..."
"In his grief, it appears that Matt began to drink heavily, and it came to a head last week. In his drunken stupor, Matt... burned his house in Philadelphia to the ground. Apparently, from what the officers tell me, some of the house was saved from becoming a smoldering ruin, but Matt was no where to be found." King said solemnly, trying to keep his... emotions together. He attempted to keep his smile hidden under a veil of crocodile tears welling up in his eyes.
"Now. I know we've had our differences, but the fact of the matter is I consider Matt a member of my extended family. I always have. He helped me raise my kids, for better or for worse. I only wish I could have been there for him more, to prevent this tragedy from happening. BBW takes care of it's employees, present and former, and I have spared no expense arranging for crews to search for our former GM and the founder of this company. We want to make sure that he is safe, and we want to help him get healthy. So Matt, if you're out there somewhere, listening... I'm here for you brother. I'll always... be here for you." King said straight into the camera. He frowned and shook his head, slowly lowering it to cover his eyes. He made a motion, seeming to wipe his tears on his sleeves...
When he rose his head to look at the camera, he was smiling as though he had not a care in the world.
"Matt Shanahan, unfortunately, has run away from his problems. And while we will always be here to back him up and stand beside him, I, at least, must look toward our future. My future. Without Matt to challenge my authority, I must make sure that such things like this never happen again. I swear to you fans, and I swear to all of my employees, that as long as I am the Owner of this amazing company, I will look out for your rights and your personal well-being. And I will rule this company with an iron fist, to make sure that Matt Shanahan's spirit is represented from this night and all other nights to come, in the name of BBW!" King said, holding out his fist tight from his body as he smirked, evil satisfaction resting on his face. If it wasn't clear before, many of the fans were starting to doubt the validity of the story that King was telling them.
"To a glorious new age of BBW! Long! Live! THE ONE. TRUE. KING!"
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 8:36 pm
"... Long! Live! THE ONE. TRUE. KI-"The classic line that marked King's legacy would not be finished that night. For as he began to utter the very last syllable, a familiar sound cut him off. A sound that if he listened, he would've heard it on the night that Matt's house burned to the ground. A sound that haunted the King family for two years. A sound that ushered in the one force that man could stop.
The sound of thunder echoed through the arena.
The lights flickered, as another sonic boom of thunder ripped through the air.
The fans rose to their feet, screaming in adoration for the all too familiar sound. One that people never thought they'd hear in BBW. One that brought a reckoning that swore to never compete in a BBW ring.
The Storm.
The lights flashed off with a spark of lightning, sending the arena into a state of darkness and disarray. The fans screamed in approval as the ominous guitar riff began to play over the speakers, ushering in the man who once owned the giant known as BBW.
Short Change Hero - The Heavy
The slow, haunting intro to the familiar theme music echoed through the darkness, leaving the sea of fans visionless in the massive room. The titantron flickered on to display an image of storm clouds surging with electricity, filling the skies with their ominous light. Aside from the titantron, there was only darkness. As the intro began to wind down, the fans let out another cry of adoration for what dared to follow. And with that noise...
BOOM!!!
A thunder-clap with the force of a sonic boom shook the arena as a bolt of lightning struck the center of the stage, causing a pillar of flames to shoot up from it. As if on queue, the lights came with a dark-blue hue, just barely giving the fans a glimpse of their surroundings. The music kicked back in, now with a distinct drum beat to it. The center of the stage was wide open with fog billowing out, concealing the figure that began to slowly rise from it...
I can't see where you comin' from, But I know just what you runnin' from. And what matters ain't the "who's baddest" but, The ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder, baby...
The figure continued to rise up from the hole in the stage as the song played; his head was covered by a black hood, attached to a long, black leather trenchcoat. His head was kept down to hide his face from view, even though the arena knew who he was. The platform kept rising as the song went on, dragging out the eagerness that everyone was wiggling with. The Storm was here, in Nebraska, and he probably wasn't happy at all.

And you feel like you're feelin' now, Doin' things just to please your crowd. But I love you like the way I love you, And I suffer, but I ain't gonna cut you 'cause...
As the first verse finished, the platform ended it's rise to the the stage. Matt Shanahan lifted his head to stare down at the ring, revealing hints of his features to the glaring crowd. His face was emotionless, a blank slate. It was a sight that no one had seen in BBW before; he had always worn a wide grin or a smirk when appearing before the fans. Tonight, he was cold. He was angry. And he was staring right. At. Kelly King.
His right hand was gripped around his legendary weapon, the 'Punk-ville Slugger', only loosening to give the bat a single twirl to his side. The chorus began as The Storm slowly began to step down the ramp.
This ain't no place for no hero. This ain't no place for no better man. This ain't no place for no hero to call "home."
This ain't no place for no hero. This ain't no place for no better man. This ain't no place for no hero to call "home."
As he moved down the ramp, some fans would dare say he was simply floating through the fog in his way, as his legs seem to just barely stride down the metallic walkway. On the last two lines of the chorus, a flash of lightning ripped across the roof of the arena, causing the dark-blue lighting to go out once more. The Storm didn't remotely pause in his wake tonight though.
Every time I close my eyes, I think, I think about you inside. And your mother, givin' up on askin' why - Why you lie, and you cheat, and you try to make A fool outta she...
Three more bells chimed as the bridge was sang through-out the arena. Each time, there was a quick flash of light to give the fans a split-second view of what was happening; Matt was still making his way to the ring. With each flash, he was closer. It was almost haunting to see the black-clad figure suddenly moving positions through the darkness.
I can't see where you comin' from...
The drumbeat kicked back in on queue, the dark-blue lighting throughout the arena returning with it. Matt had shifted to stand at the steel steps, ascending up the platforms the moment the lights phased back in. He carried himself on the apron and stopped midway to step through the ropes, his trenchcoat dragging behind him. Once in the ring, he faced King dead-on with his head down to hide his face from view.
But I know just what you're runnin' from. And what matters ain't the "who's baddest," but the Ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder, 'cause...
Right before the chorus began, The Storm grabbed his hood with his right hand as he pulled it from his head and tossed it back, revealing his clean shaven features to the world, and to former best friend. He had a stitches riddled across his forehead, only adding to the horrific visage that was The Storm. With this motion, another booming thunder to echo through the arena; a lightning bolt followed and shot across the ceiling overhead as the lights flowed back into their normal, colorless hue. His cold, calculated stare pierced into Kelly King's soul, as if trying to draw it right out of his body. The music began to die away as he looked over the mass of people in attendance.
In silence, Matt glared at King. He glared at the man that stole his company and invaded his home. The man that he wanted to break. One. More. Time.
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ProtoWolf 2.0 Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 8:55 pm
The thunder hit the arena, the lights turned dark and smoke billowed. He could almost feel rain falling on him, like some kind of bad dream or flashback. King's eyes dilated and his skin turned pale at the neck, all color leaving his face. He was sure this was just some kind of technical malfuntion, and someone would be getting fired for it. He loosened the tie around his neck, swallowing thickly as he moved to the ropes, facing the ramp, trying to yell to the camera crew, the light crew, and the pyro crew, to get things under control.
That music was like... a death march.
The sudden thunder-clap sent King scurrying back into the center of the ring, covering his head as though lightning might strike him dead at that very moment. Luckily for him, he hadn't challenged any gods to do so, so perhaps that is why he was spared... but he wasn't spared from the coming of the Storm. What had they said? Rain had put the fire out?
Oh.
Damnit.
King stood in the center of the ring as Matt Shanahan, living and breathing, made his slow way down to the ring, smoke clouding on the stage and keeping the hooded monster's apperance rather shrouded, even as he made it all the way down to the ring. King tried to put up his best face of fortitude, his lips tightening and frowning as the bigger man stepped up onto the apron. But when Matt threw back his hood and confirmed that it was, indeed, The Storm, King dropped his microphone in the center of the ring and... fell to his knees.
King shook his head in disbelief at what he was seeing, staring up at Matt Shanahan even more so now. When Matt made his way into the ring, King quickly fell on his a** and scampered, scooting back on his rear all the way into the relative safety of one of the corners of the ring, wrapping his arms around the bottom rope like a ******** teddy bear. "Nononono... no... it's not real."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 9:43 pm
King scurried to the corner of the ring, and the fans were loving it. The entire arena was screaming his name, letting their approval for The Last True God be known. It's a shame that to Matt, there was no sound. There was only Kelly King, begging for reality to change. Begging for The Storm to pass over.
The Storm would do no such thing.
The emotionless state of Matt's face slowly began to morph into a look of disgust. Slowly, he stepped to the center of the ring and leaned down to pick up the microphone King had left behind. Wielding the voice amplifier in his left hand, he rose back to his feet and glared down at King, the man who took everything from him.
"... A drunken stupor? Claiming I burned down my own house?... You make me sick," Matt hissed into the microphone, his deep, commanding voice vibrating the room. "Are you done telling your lies, Kelly? Or shall I inform the world about what really happened to my home? I figured you'd be proud and tell them all... tell them how you sent your brats to invade my personal home. Tell them how they were to beat me to a pulp and leave me to rot. Tell them how you burned my home to the ground, leaving me to burn in it! YOU SICK. PIECE. OF FILTH."
Matt's voice roared into the microphone, his features visibly showing signs of anger at this point. The room was electric with his words, loving the grilling that he was giving Kelly King.
"You disgust me... to think, you're considered one of the best. That says a lot about this industry... how spineless slugs like you can thrive and be praised, when you can't even handle business on your own. That's where you and I differ... I can handle my own affairs. Now, I'm handling my last one. I will not stand by and let you get away with such acts. I will not stand by... and let you become a monster."
Despite how one could take Matt's words sincerely, the anger and venom to them suggested otherwise. "Two years ago, we waged war. I invaded your home, I instilled the fear of a God into your family, and I broke you. You proclaimed that you fought me, to stop a monster. Two years later, here I stand... staring at the monster who dared take my company, invade my home, and ruin everything I had... It's time I repay that favor."
"You sent your little shits to attack me. To provoke me. You claimed that night... that Matt Shanahan, and his legacy, had effectively died. You couldn't... be more... wrong," Each word he breathed into the microphone was laced with hatred and clear disdain for the man before him. It was rare that someone could provoke Matt to the point that King had; in fact, King might be the only man to do so within the past half a decade.
"My legacy lives... and it thrives... and now, I'm here to take it back. I'm here to kill a monster. I'm here... to take. You. Down."
It was as if another bolt of thunder shook the arena with how loudly the audience was screaming. They wanted it. They wanted to see King brought to justice. They wanted Matt Shanahan to win his company back.
They wanted The Last True God to face The One True King. One more time.
"... Starting now," Matt's grave tone echoed into the microphone. The microphone fell from his hand, and The Storm went charging before it could even hit the mat. He charged at Kelly King, his baseball bat in hand! What he planned to do, not even the crowd knew; they were just excited to see the results!
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ProtoWolf 2.0 Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 9:52 pm
The Storm and the crowd would never find out, honestly, what was in store. King's hands tightened on the bottom rope and he immediately pulled his slithering body out of the ring and down onto the ring floor. He scrambled on his hands and knees, frantically crawling to the barricade. He looked over his shoulder at Matt Shanahan, and shook his head wildly, before attempting to leap into the crowd to escape the Storm before judgement could be passed down on him.
And then something... rather wonderful happened.
Wonderful for television, not for King, that is.
King tried to force himself through the sea of people, but found, oddly, resistance. It was as though there were an invisible forcefield, pushing him back towards the ring, keeping him from making that last step over the barricade. Try as he might, he could not seem to break the hold, the way the force pushed back against him. King struggled and tried to put all his might, but the magic was to strong...
And then King realized that it wasn't some mystical tornado erected by Shanahan himself that was keeping him from entering the crowd... it was the people. Dozens of hands reaching out and pushing him back. Dozens of hands keeping the security guards at bay. A rowdy BBW crowd who wanted justice, pushing King back over the barricade and keeping him from freeing himself from his waking nightmare. As King crashed against them, they crashed back, pushing with all their might to keep King on his side of the barricade, and not on theirs.
Finally with another strong push, keeping King from becoming a body surfer, 2.0 was rejected and thrown down onto the floor by the fans. The incredulous look on his face, his wide eyes, the rage on his face only matched by the sheer terror that he felt.
Thinking fast, King scuffed his shoes on the arena floor, as he pushed himself to his feet and ran like a scolded dog to the ramp, fleeing the fans and the force of nature in the ring.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 9:59 pm
The Storm stopped short of the turnbuckle as King disappeared under it, effectively taking away Matt's target. He watched with clear frustration as King tried to escape into the crowd, but he didn't chase after him. No, he would let the people do his work for him. They seemed content preventing Kelly King from getting anywhere else at the moment.
The Storm watched as King finally wised up and ran for the stage instead. He could escape to the back, he would be safe there.
If he could get there.
While King was scrambling up the ramp, Matt was stepping towards the center of the ring with his baseball bat firm in his hand. Right as 2.0 approached the top of the stage, Matt lifted his legendary Punk-ville Slugger and pointed it right at the back of King's head.
Suddenly, a lightning bolt shot out of the dome of the arena, crashing down onto the stage... just a step away from Kelly King.
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ProtoWolf 2.0 Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2015 10:03 pm
King was bolting up the ramp at break-neck pace, right when lightning struck the stage next to him. The bolt struck right next to his feet, causing him to leap into the air in fright, throwing his body backwards. "JESUS TAP DANCING CHRIST!" He landed on the very edge of the stage, precariously wheeling his arms about.
2.0 fought for his balance, trying to regain it after the lightning strike, only for him to teeter and fall backwards off the stage like some kind of reverse Shoal.
He hit the floor after the short fall, utterly humiliated. King threw himself up to his feet, holding his back. King looked back over his shoulder, at the smoldering metal where the lightning had struck, and then very quickly shot his gaze back to the nightmare that was standing in the middle of the ring with his ungodly baseball bat.
Holding his shoulder with the opposite arm, Kelly King 2.0 fled. He fled the arena, he fled Nebraska, he fled BBW.
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