A very abrupt boom of thunder shook the arena, causing the lights on the ceiling to flicker. The thunder was replaced with the outcry of jeers from the audience, but they were soon overpowered by another shockwave of The Storm's fury. A flash of lightning streaked across the dome of the arena, shutting off all the lights as it disappeared. It could only mean one thing: The Storm was coming.
A lone guitar began to quietly play over the sound system, mixing in with the distinct sound of raindrops hitting steel. The eerie music that had ushered in Matt Shanahan since Wrestlemania 2013 had become a staple in the industry, and tonight, it was going to usher him home to FFA.
Short Change Hero - The HeavyThe 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. The rain could be heard pouring, but no one knew to what degree it had overtaken the arena. As the intro began to wind down, the fans let out another disapproving roar 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. The flames spread all over the stage, bathing it in fire and fighting against the 'rain' pouring from the ceiling of the arena. As if on queue, the lights came with a dark-blue hue, just barely giving the fans a glimpse of their surroundings The dim lights revealed that this rain was falling all across the arena. The audience, the stage, the ramp, even the ring itself was being poured down upon by the deluge from the ceiling. 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 roaring fans knew who he was. The platform kept rising as the song went on and the rain slid off of his trenchcoat.
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, glaring at his latest rival. Brantley Summers. A man that he had been set to fight many occasions, and yet this would be the first time they truly clashed.
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, well protected from the rain thanks to his hooded coat.
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 rain and 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 Summers with his head down to hide his face from view. He lifted his baseball bat up and slid it down his back, notching it in the custom holster on his trenchcoat meant specifically for the weapon.
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. With it, 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. The pouring rain stopped, entire indoor arena damp; luckily, most fans had realized to bring rain jackets and water-resistant items after Shanahan's previous entrances. His cold, calculated stare fixated on Brantley Summers, a challenger he had anticipated for half of a year. The cheering fans pushed Matt onward in this match, and encouraged him to taunt Summers even more. Matt abruptly reached into his trenchcoat and ripped the Team Rocket Championship off of his waist, hoisting it high in the air for the world and Cyrus to see. A championship that proved as nothing more than a gimmick for this match to happen.
After displaying his title to the world, Matt pushed the belt into the referee's hands and began to remove his trenchcoat. He tossed it over the ropes at one of the stage hands and began to flex his hands, ready for combat. Summers vs Shanahan. The Storm vs The Cool Representative. ICW Tag Team Legend vs ICW Hall of Famer. This clash had more poetry in it than a Shel Silverstein book.
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