Post by Tombstone on May 29, 2008 0:21:58 GMT -5
Chris Stone jogs in place as he waits for the car to go by. The old woman driving it takes her time. Stone looks at her with annoyance as he listens as "Medicine Man" by Pantera starts to slowly rumble in his headphones. The old woman smiles at him for no particular reason. Stone responds with an overzealous smile and wave. He jogs across the street, letting the music isolate his mind from the outside world. The chugging riffs guide Stone down the street without any effort, as if he was on auto-pilot. He can't help but get pumped up by the sounds of Pantera ringing through his ears. He couldn't wait for Sunday. It was so close, yet so far. Being so far from something he wanted so bad made the feelings that much more intense. The closer Summer Blast-Off got, the more the Brutal Havok Championship was on his mind. It was on his mind for most of today. Right now, he was completing a long day of working out with a nice, calming, long run. But even here, the belt was on his mind and with that came Bo Slade and Prozac.
Stone smiles as the two enter his mind. He turns a corner, glancing down the street for cars before he runs across. Stone had a gut feeling that Sunday was going to be his night in a big way. He was going to fight for what was his to his last breath if he had to. He hadn't put much thought into what he would do if he lost the match, mostly because that was neither an option or an outcome. There was only one, true possible outcome: Chris Stone once again reigning as CPW Brutal Havok Champion. He was going to take back his belt and put it and himself back up on the pedestal both rightfully deserved. Prozac and Bo Slade weren't going to be able to keep him down for long. Stone could care less if he broke himself in half, the Brutal Havok Championship was going back around his waist.
The man he perceived most as a threat was the 'champion' himself, Bo Slade. He had been a man with a purpose inside the Cell at the beginning of this month. But one could attribute Slade's victory that night to his time in the business, ring presence or even luck. Stone took it as a wake up call. He wanted to refuse to even acknowledge Slade as Brutal Havok Champion at first, but instead put his mind on getting back what he still considered was his. And so this entire month, Stone watched Slade make a mockery out of his championship. The words 'Brutal Havok Champion' weren't on the lips of very many people, mostly because Stone's name wasn't behind them. Just like that, his championship was reduced to sporadic sightings, already sitting on a dead end road. The very thought disturbed him, but he saw it as a big boost for himself and the Brutal Havok Championship. This Sunday, he looked to go good on the promise he made for Dia De Los Muertos: defeat Bo Slade and take the first step in establishing his dominance in CPW. No one could deny that the four months leading up to his championship loss was nothing short of dominance. He took every challenge and walked out, the decisive, and sometimes bloody, winner.
The fact that his title was taken from him in what seemed to him a short amount of time drove him crazy. The last two weeks on Pure Chaos just added more fuel to his fire. A hanging from Iron Head and Ricky Ray and an ass kicking from a man he had never seen at both the moment of attack or before in his life. He supposed Bo was trying to send a message of some sort, but Stone saw it as nothing more than a petty insult. He wasn't going to come out and blatantly say things would've ended differently if the lights were on. He knew nothing of this Johnzo Scary guy. He could be a fucking nut for all he knew. CPW was certainly full of them. In fact, the place sort of resembled an insane asylum. Stone chuckled at the thought, knowing he probably should've realized this earlier. Wouldn't have made a difference though. He liked the idea of one day being able to say he climbed the biggest pile of immortally insane people and stood at the top. And this Sunday was the first step.
Stone runs across another street, getting more into the area where his neighborhood is. He tried to understand how his other opponent, Prozac, was so seemingly clueless to what he was getting himself into. He had shown he had the balls to go through with something, but obviously put no thought in how to follow it up. Laying claim to another man's championship while said belt was in the possession a man perceived as champion was like a big slap to the face. And borderline retarded if you ask the right people. But it didn't make Stone look at Prozac as a simple bump. The man got Ricky Ray and, most notably, Iron Head to hang him over the top rope. That alone wanted Stone to pick him apart slowly, but at the same time, he wanted to be him until he was a bloody pulp. He supposed he would wait and see how he feels when he gets in the ring Sunday.
Stone turns a corner and onto his street. He looks at his house all the way at the end, feeling relief. It's been a long day. Tomorrow was also a big day. He had to get prepared for an interview with the Los Angeles Times. Then the rest of his week would be dedicated to Sunday. There was no room for error. There was no room for failure. There could only be victory and success. And the Brutal Havok Championship represented those two things to him. On Sunday, he was going to strengthen the grip he still had on the belt and snatch it away from Bo Slade. Only four days left until everything was right. They couldn't come any sooner.
Stone smiles as the two enter his mind. He turns a corner, glancing down the street for cars before he runs across. Stone had a gut feeling that Sunday was going to be his night in a big way. He was going to fight for what was his to his last breath if he had to. He hadn't put much thought into what he would do if he lost the match, mostly because that was neither an option or an outcome. There was only one, true possible outcome: Chris Stone once again reigning as CPW Brutal Havok Champion. He was going to take back his belt and put it and himself back up on the pedestal both rightfully deserved. Prozac and Bo Slade weren't going to be able to keep him down for long. Stone could care less if he broke himself in half, the Brutal Havok Championship was going back around his waist.
The man he perceived most as a threat was the 'champion' himself, Bo Slade. He had been a man with a purpose inside the Cell at the beginning of this month. But one could attribute Slade's victory that night to his time in the business, ring presence or even luck. Stone took it as a wake up call. He wanted to refuse to even acknowledge Slade as Brutal Havok Champion at first, but instead put his mind on getting back what he still considered was his. And so this entire month, Stone watched Slade make a mockery out of his championship. The words 'Brutal Havok Champion' weren't on the lips of very many people, mostly because Stone's name wasn't behind them. Just like that, his championship was reduced to sporadic sightings, already sitting on a dead end road. The very thought disturbed him, but he saw it as a big boost for himself and the Brutal Havok Championship. This Sunday, he looked to go good on the promise he made for Dia De Los Muertos: defeat Bo Slade and take the first step in establishing his dominance in CPW. No one could deny that the four months leading up to his championship loss was nothing short of dominance. He took every challenge and walked out, the decisive, and sometimes bloody, winner.
The fact that his title was taken from him in what seemed to him a short amount of time drove him crazy. The last two weeks on Pure Chaos just added more fuel to his fire. A hanging from Iron Head and Ricky Ray and an ass kicking from a man he had never seen at both the moment of attack or before in his life. He supposed Bo was trying to send a message of some sort, but Stone saw it as nothing more than a petty insult. He wasn't going to come out and blatantly say things would've ended differently if the lights were on. He knew nothing of this Johnzo Scary guy. He could be a fucking nut for all he knew. CPW was certainly full of them. In fact, the place sort of resembled an insane asylum. Stone chuckled at the thought, knowing he probably should've realized this earlier. Wouldn't have made a difference though. He liked the idea of one day being able to say he climbed the biggest pile of immortally insane people and stood at the top. And this Sunday was the first step.
Stone runs across another street, getting more into the area where his neighborhood is. He tried to understand how his other opponent, Prozac, was so seemingly clueless to what he was getting himself into. He had shown he had the balls to go through with something, but obviously put no thought in how to follow it up. Laying claim to another man's championship while said belt was in the possession a man perceived as champion was like a big slap to the face. And borderline retarded if you ask the right people. But it didn't make Stone look at Prozac as a simple bump. The man got Ricky Ray and, most notably, Iron Head to hang him over the top rope. That alone wanted Stone to pick him apart slowly, but at the same time, he wanted to be him until he was a bloody pulp. He supposed he would wait and see how he feels when he gets in the ring Sunday.
Stone turns a corner and onto his street. He looks at his house all the way at the end, feeling relief. It's been a long day. Tomorrow was also a big day. He had to get prepared for an interview with the Los Angeles Times. Then the rest of his week would be dedicated to Sunday. There was no room for error. There was no room for failure. There could only be victory and success. And the Brutal Havok Championship represented those two things to him. On Sunday, he was going to strengthen the grip he still had on the belt and snatch it away from Bo Slade. Only four days left until everything was right. They couldn't come any sooner.
