Redemption 127: Night Three Press Conference Thread

[Slaine Rodrick]

The following fighters must present their press conferences here. No real restrictions, write whatever you want, how long you want as long as it pertains to the match. Because of the large amount of fighters, they are separated by two tables. Those booked on the left are seated at the left PC table, and those booked on the right are seated at the right PC table.

BAD ASS © vs. James Edwards

Sandy Makel vs. Sherry Diamond © 

Masaru Inoue vs. Jason Jackson © 

Zola Star vs. Conor Blackburn

Tyberius King vs. Rex Evans

Heavy ‘Chevy’ Blythe vs. Carrick Price

Ernest Cauldwell vs. Lance Winters © 

Rowyn Starr vs. Anastasia Starling ©

PRESS CONFERENCES DUE BY AUGUST 5TH @ 11:59 PM EST

[Jason Cashe]

The podium was empty as were the tables where Wrestlers competing in Iron King would be sitting soon enough. There were whispers and conversations buzzing about in the conference area as Media and fans waited for the Redemption 127 Iron King Night 3 Press Conference to get underway. The double doors at the right side of the room pop open and Jason Cashe enters the room. It grabs the attention of a few but that few turns into plenty and as steps around one of the tables and reaches the podium, everyone in the room is all eyes on him. "I don't really have anything prepared.. Heh.."

Trying to place focus on what he wanted to say, he also knew he had to put words towards what needed to be said. Someone from the press shouts out. “You’re not in Iron King! How high are you right now Cashe?”

“Wavy, and I know I’m not in Iron King..” He responds as casual and chinese eyed as ever. I take a spotlight so unless someone is willing to come up here and stop me? I like Press Conferences so.. Questions?” Hands started rising atop the heads of the growingly packed crowd. Selecting one at random, they spoke up.

"Yeah, Mike Jones from Space City Sports in Houston, TX. My question though is why?" Staring back at the skinny toothpick who asked the question. Cashe was unsure what why he was asking about. Did he just not hear it, did he zone out? The whole question was finally asked. "Why should anyone believe in Jason Cashe?"

The room was quiet but you felt it as the question covered everyone like a blanket. Another forced smile and Cashe responded. His hesitation gives you only a smidge of hope that he put thought into his response.

"Do you believe you will leave your house tomorrow and be safe, that your belief will truly keep all the bad in the world from happening to you? Accidents happen as my Momma once said... Now I can't sit here and tell any of you people what to believe in. How foolish would that make me seem if I tell you how to think or what choices to make because I might make or believe in them. Frankly I don't rightly give the smallest of fucks if you do believe in me! So.. There is that! Does that answer your question?"

There was a few laughs, a few claps and cheers. A few heads shaking left to right and on those faces, a look of disgust or disappointment. Cashe looked and took in all their expressions. His blood rising a touch and he was feeling a little springy standing at the podium. "You. Yellow shirt." He calls out wanting the next question and making his choice as to from who he would get one. A face of disgust.

"Do you feel that whatever Lega--"

"Wrong." Cutting the question short. Cashe raised a hand and shook his index finger at the man in the yellow shirt. "First day? That’s not how you do this! Come on maaan.. Who ya is, where ya from? Let’s hear it properly done now.."

"I-I.." His disgust turned to confusion but the man complied. "Richard Spot from Wrestl--" This time his cut off came with laugher from Cashe. An hysterical chuckle.

"Wait! Your name is Richard Spot?! Dick Spot!! Hahahahahaha!" Far too many people laughed and most were probably just laughing because others were. Fucking zombies. Cashe was just trolling this guy in a sense. He could tell before even calling on him for a question, he had a look of ugh about him. "I'm sorry.. Really haha.. What's your question?"

Giving it a moment as Cashe still had a few giggles in him. The time came and the question was asked. "What of your Legacy? Starting fresh and then right away an injury? Are you here to just collect a paycheck?"

"That’s more than one question fyi but let me respond.." Clearing his throat, Cashe lost the humor. Well almost. "Dick Spot let me explain a few things that will clear up any misconception on my 'legacy' which I have never claimed to have or bragged about. What exactly ruins what I have done in the past? Every reign finds eventual defeat. Every loss is a lesson. So what ruins it? To me bringing it up, using it has and will be what ruins it most. Dragging it through the dirt with me like it is a security blanket is what will ruin it. What you are referring too and what I will address briefly is my being fired from the place I was with before now, yes?"

Chirps and whispers grow in the crowd. It's something that has to be on their minds. Cashe was there for almost 5 years. "Some of the best talent in the world. Nobody can argue that. Yet not at ONE time I was there could I STAND Management! If ever there was a time I was just floating along or collecting a paycheck, it was the last 2 years of my career.. All the titles, the Hall of Fame nod. Everything I was first in doing and even setting the foundation of what they are today. I don’t want it.."

His pause was short lived, only long enough to wipe his mouth. ”I don’t want it if I cannot move forward without having more success in this business. I don’t want it if the success I had is overshadowed by the times I have fallen. Keep it. Rewrite it, erase it from the history books.

It’s Public information that I threatened to walk a few times. I wanted out. I was pulled back in and awarded Hall Of Fame ONLY to get a match and it's one of the few I have won all year. I was without motivation. So luck.. Simply the right time and place gave me the out I wanted because I couldn't break free from the contract I was signed too and I got fired. That son of a bitch did me a FAVOR firing me!"

Breathing out to let the fumes igniting within him free. Cashe bounces and shakes at the shoulders before adding to the spoken words already said. "So now.. Now Dick Spot, you have no need to place any focus on what happened before now. The only thing that matters is that I have held over 40 Championships on record. I have competed at every level since 2001 on a consistent basis and I am now in Phoenix Wrestling and if I cannot be something here then what I was in the past means nothing. History is forgotten when nobody cares to remember it. I am now ready to compete again, motivated to compete AND win! Fuck a paycheck, pay me in blood. Pay me in my hand being raised as my opponents pile the fuck up!"

Stepping back. Cashe was hyped up! People were clapping and others stood just watching. There were always going to be doubters and haters and those who watch simply to hope for his loss. Its wrestling! You watch to see spots, to see pay and loss. Hands raise and without even choosing, a voice speaks up with a question.

"So your opponent for August 7th is Kelli Torres. Any words for her?" Forgetting about the right way to ask questions, Cashe heard a cute female voice and wanted to see if she was hot. He had a finger scale to help determine how many he’d cut off if he could fuck her. Nodding, he stepped forward back to the mic.

"Kelli Torres.. Nope don't know her. Not personally anyway. I did a little bit of scouting on the girl. Sent a homie of mine to where she trains to spy on her. Find strengths and holes and I must say.. If I wasn't hooked up? I'd want to explore her holes a bit more."

Scoffing from the women who asked the question. Jeers were even heard as he shows a touch of sexist in his words for an upcoming opponent. You can see a handful of the guys are nothing but smiles. "As for the competition aspect of it? She will probably say she doesn't know me. Probably yap on how I sprained my ankle. So on August 7th at Redemption 127! This.. 125 pound opponent of mine will bring her striking and Knockout seeking self into the ring with me." Slapping an open palm down onto the surface of the podium. Cashe demanded attention. ”WOOOO! I am ready! I am gooooood to GO and little Ms. Torres needs to be very aware of what she is getting into! She will not be handled with kid gloves. She will not be played with. I place an oath to it.. You. Will. Lose this match. Swing for the fences but find yourself gazing up dazed as that slap to the canvas reaches three! Defeated and mistreated! No foreplay, straight to a rough FUCKING!”

He was done taking questions. He wanted to be direct with his thoughts, concerns and jabs he had bouncing around in his head.. ”I look at this card and see Shooter Reed in line for a Title opportunity and I think.. Why? Filler at best. I beat that punk chump after tearing through a six man tag match match literally before our match! My ankle? It’s fine. A sprain aint shit! If I hadn’t sprained it, I’d be IN Iron King and I’d be shouting “KING ME” like we was playing chess. So I don’t want to hear about concerns over my Legacy or if I still got it because I don’t see too many motherfuckers out there debuting in not one but two back to back matches and looking as good doing it as I did!”

He inhales deeply before rambling on into more words spoken. “So who knows? Maybe before I step in the ring with this P.Y.T. O-P-P, I will insert myself in the Rising Phoenix Championship contenders match. Maybe I will slow clap everyone out there, do what was so hated of me in the last company I was with. Do what the fuck I do and TAKE attention instead instead of sitting around yapping backstage about being this and that. I come see if words can be backed up! That way we find out MUCH quicker who can keep from seeing defeat. You want trouble? I been had plenty!”

“Cashe! Cashe! Question. Jamie Stroud, Haddenfield Press. Do you have aspirations to become a Champion again? Knowing you went so long avoiding them with your former employer..”

“Let me answer that question with a question. Is a pig’s pussy pork? You answer that and you’ve got your answer! You want something that grabs attention, that demands a spotlight? Watch Phoenix Wrestling. Tune in and watch what happens when beauty stands across from a beast..”

Saluting the crowd with a middle finger, Cashe turns and leaves the podium and conference area back the way he came.

[Tritch]

At the table on the right, near the center, one man looks much different than the last time he sat at a table like this. Before the first round, Rex Evans dressed in his most expensive suit and sunglasses, and proceeded to be drawn to the screen of his phone for a majority of the press conference. Today, he’s dressed in a pair of Brutal Apparel warm-up shorts and a #BRUTAL sweatshirt, with the hood pulled over his head. His legs are moving rapidly and his fingers rap against the top of the table as his eyes dart around the room.

He seems eager to listen, intent to hear everything that happens in this press conference in contrast to his last. In fact, it almost seems as though he’s upset by the fact that nothing has happened yet. Some reporters are still funnelling into their seats while others gather their notes and prepare. All of their attention is suddenly drawn to the stage however, due to the sound of someone tapping on their microphone. When they look up, a bit confused, they see Rex leaning forward and clearing his throat.

“‘Scuse me,” he mutters, before clearing his throat once again. “I know these things are more question and answer than anything, you guys ask questions we answer them and go on diatribes about or preparations and feelings and all that, and that’s fine. Great. I’m looking forward to participating in all of that, I just feel like I need to get something off my chest quickly first.”

The reporters look around at each other quite puzzled, but they begin rapidly flipping to specific pages in their journals and holding up their recorders, as those journalists who hadn’t yet gotten to their seats rush to find them. Rex adjusts his positioning in his seat, clearing his throat a third time as he just slightly casts a glance to his direct left, where Carrick Price is sat.

“I am fully aware that I’m not here because of anything I did, but rather because of the fate of someone else’s bad luck,” a muffled sigh as he glance out at the sea of reporters. “This man to my left beat me fair and square in the center of that cage, and I was prepared to return home to Atlanta no longer a competitor in the 2018 Iron King Tournament.

“But that’s not what the fates had in store. I’m truly sorry for what happened to Starlight, I can imagine the only thing worse than getting eliminated from a tournament via split decision would be having to leave despite winning,” a deep breath. “But that brings me to my point. It was a split decision that sent Carrick into the second round, which means at least one person thought I won that match. None of these other competitors went the limit, none of these other fighters had to bring in the judges.

“People can look at that a multitude of ways, but the fact of the matter is Carrick Price is one of the best damn fighters in the CGFC,” Rex looks a little more directly at the man who beat him on the previous Redemption, a slight nod. “I took him the distance and I think I proved once and for all that I’m much more than just an arrogant professional wrestler.

“Anyways,” another breath as Rex realizes he went down a tangent. “My point is, Starlight can’t compete. Somebody had to fill in. And I think more than anybody else who got bounced out in the first round, I am the won who deserved this spot, as the scorecard proves. I’m not taking anything away from Carrick, and I’m prepared to step back into the Phoenix Wrestling ring and earn my way back into this tournament by beating one of the best athletes in professional wrestling.”

Rex lingers at the microphone, taking another deep breath and clearing his throat once again, before nodding subtly, muttering alright as he leans back away from the microphone. An awkward moment of silence fills the room after the speech, before dozens of hands shoot up and the reporters all begin speaking at once, shouting over one another, all eyes still on the Avatar of Brutality. Bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he sighs before nodding a few times and adjusting his posture as he points at a reporter near the front.

“Mr. Evans, an impassioned speech, thank you for your candor,” the reporter begins, allowing Rex to nod in response before breathing in deep and diving into his question. “But how does it feel knowing that, even if you overcome all of the odds and go onto win this tournament, there will be an asterisk next to your name in the record books?”

The former world champion’s shoulders slump, but only slightly, barely even detectable as he mulls over the question a moment, swallowing hard and leaning in to respond.

“It sucks,” he says quite plainly, shaking his head. “Like I said, Carrick beat me fair and square. One judge thought I won, but two judges chose him. My hat’s off to him and I look forward to seeing his next fight. But I was given a second chance, a second opportunity and I’m not going to squander it simply because it’s controversial. My middle fucking name is controversy, have you watched my career?” Several people in the room chuckle at that comment, but Rex still looks quite serious. “Knowing that at the end of the day, all things said and done, if I win… people will have excuses to talk shit, tear me down, and tell me I don’t deserve it… how is that different than any other day in my career?”

The reporter’s brow raises as he nods, seemingly content with that answer. But it seems Rex isn’t quite done.

“I fight tooth and nail each and every time I step into that ring. I go out there to fight, to scratch and claw my way to the top. It’s how I’ve always been and it’s how I’ll always be. If my fight with Price proved anything, it’s that. A lot of people said he wasn’t just going to beat me, but he was going to finish me. He didn’t. I’m going to keep scratching, keeping clawing, keep fighting for as long as I’m in this tournament until somebody tells me to go home,” Rex seems to be breathing rather rapidly as his speech comes to an end, seemingly getting heated up as he talks. “Next question.”

“Hi, Rex,” a second reporter stands up on the other side of the room, a few rows back, waving with a smile. “In the first round of the tournament, you fought under grappling rules. Although, as you mentioned, there was certainly a large group of people who thought Carrick would make you tapout, many others looked at the grappling night as the one night where professional wrestlers have the advantage over the mixed martial artists in the tournament. How do you feel heading into night three under pancrase rules?”

“One thing people some to forget about me as that I am a mixed martial artists. I might not compete for an MMA company, but like I said on Twitter recently, I’ve been training in muay thai and boxing just as long as I’ve been training in wrestling,” a beat. “I get it. There are a lot of pro wrestlers out there who train specifically for the squared circle and never open their horizons to other fighting styles, but still get a big head and decide to step into the cage and embarrass themselves. But that’s not all of us. That’s not me.

“As for Pancrase Rules specifically, they seem super similar to Heritage Rules from back in Sin City Wrestling, which I’m quite familiar with,” Rex nods. “I think I’ll certainly feel more comfortable this time around considering a lot of my repertoire revolves around my striking game, and my experience with Heritage Rules will definitely help in my opinion.”

“Heading into round two,” a third reporter is handed a microphone, and begins asking his question right away. “You’ll be facing Tyberius King, a decorated professional wrestler and one whom many would consider one of the best in the game today. Do you feel more or less comfortable stepping into the ring against a pro wrestler, even one of Ty’s caliber, than you did stepping into the ring with a pure mixed martial artist?”

“It’s a horse a piece in my opinion,” the Brute shrugs. “Both of them are going to throw things at me that I’ve never seen before, both of them are going to come at me in ways I’ve not experienced. Background doesn’t matter, all that matters is what you do once you’re in between those ropes. I prepare for individuals, I don’t prepare for backgrounds or archetypes. I’ve been studying his matches just like I studied Carrick’s fights, and I’ll feel just as comfortable stepping into the ring against him as I did against Carrick.”

“If that’s the case, do you honestly think you can win?” The reporter jumps in with a follow up before the microphone can be passed along, causing Rex’s eyes to narrow. “If you’re stepping in just as comfortable as you were against Carrick, and you’re doing all of the same stuff you did in preparation for Carrick, don’t you think the results will end up the same as they were… against Carrick?”

There’s a long pause as Rex swallows hard, staring down the reporter before sighing.

“That’s not what I said. I said I’m studying my next round opponent just like I did with my first round opponent, just like I do with every opponent. My preparation has been completely different other than that one constant, because like I said, I prepare for individuals. I’ve adjust my workouts and spars to fit with Ty’s proven style, and I’m preparing for variables as everyone has the ability to switch things up and learn new things. I’m ready. I’m prepared. I’m confident. I’m comfortable. That’s it.”

The microphone is taken away from the reporter, but instead of pointing again, Rex leans forward and mutters a thank you into his own mic before pushing it away and leaning back in his chair, signaling that he wasn’t going to be taking any more questions.

[turdferguson]

Cameras pan over to the right hand side table where Conor Blackburn is seated, trying his best to remain comfortable despite his massive frame having to sit at a table with so many other competitors. A few hands raise up and flashbulbs go off, and he clears his throat, while adjusting his mic.

Conor Blackburn: Greetings everyone, thank you for your gracious attendance. Unfortunately, I felt like at the last press event, people jumping in and out with unrelated questions caused a disconnect and lack of flow with me conveying information that I needed to in a timely and efficient manner. So, to make sure my time is not wasted, I will not be taking open questions.

A groan and dissatisfied grumble goes up from press row.

Conor Blackburn: Instead, I will be taking questions from a journalist I trust implicitly, Mr. David Scriven of the Pro Wrestling Observer.

BIG DAVE grins as he gets some dirty looks from other reporters in attendance.

Conor Blackburn: I realize some may not understand why this is best, but rest assured I will be answering more questions to make up for it. So, while you will not get your air time during the press conference, you will get to jot down more quotes from me, the actual subject of your stories-- Mr. Scriven, you may begin.

The reporter shuffles through his notes.

Dave Scriven: Um yeah, hi Conor, so looking back at your last fight, it was a striking match. There were shots landed by each side, you took some fouls. Then at Underground: Signal To Noise it looks like y’know, you tweaked your knee or something. That was something that got worked over. Obviously you can’t give it all away, but I just wanted to know if you can give us a general idea of your condition heading into Round 2.

That question seems to amuse Blackburn, who lets out a low chuckle.

Conor Blackburn: To bust out a cliche, there’s a big difference between being hurt and injured, and I think everyone in the combat sports industry fights hurt or banged up. But, there’s no need to be vague, because I have nothing to hide. Obviously, getting struck repeatedly in the testicles is not a great feeling, neither is getting your knee worked over. However, I have always been a fast healer. That’s one of the benefits of keeping yourself in peak physical condition. It’s an investment in yourself that pays dividends down the line. Not to mention it’s been over a week since I last competed, that would be enough time for even someone who isn’t in quite the condition I am to be fine to compete again. I am doing quite well.

Scriven furiously writes that all down.

Dave Scriven: You’ve got a reputation as a very particular person, how does the way your fight ended play into your mindset heading into this one.

A shrug.

Conor Blackburn: If I must bring it up, I was clearly winning, had knocked him down and he was unraveling like I said he would. Yes, a knockout would have been ideal, but as my next opponent managed to show, even a TKO can be called controversial. What happened says more about him than it does me, and I’m not fighting him next, so it doesn’t really affect my mindset heading in here. It’s onto the next one, and the next one is the young lady at the table over.

The cameras pan over for a moment to where Zola is sitting.

Dave Scriven: Well uh, we might as well get to it then. You do your research, what y’know do you think of Zola Star and how you match up? There’s actually a bit of a connection that some people might not realize.

Conor laces his fingers together and stretches his arms.

Conor Blackburn: Yes, I am familiar with the young lady, even beyond my usual scouting. She came from the RISE gym, where I did get invited by my old tag partner Aurora to do some guest speaking. Honestly, she’s a good young competitor, who I think has the tools to make it pretty far in her line of work. I know that some aspects of her may seem a bit cookie cutter, but you can’t be snowed by that when looking at her. She’s obviously gotten excellent training: I’ve either teamed with, taught a lot of lessons to, or competed against and defeated three different members of that training staff-- and she’s done a pretty solid job of applying that knowledge.

A beat skips.

Conor Blackburn: She knows the value of being a dedicate self-promoter, and is supremely confident. I think the aspect that might get overlooked a bit is that she’s actually a very hard-nosed and tough competitor who likes to make things a scrap. Some people have been taken in by the fact that she seems pretty vapid, but she knows how to work, and has a chip on her shoulder. Now, is she the most skilled or technical at this point in her career?

He shakes his hand back and forth.

Conor Blackburn: No, no so much. She has explored some different areas to try and round out her skill set with striking, submissions, flying and all that, but each of those areas isn’t likely to match up with someone who is at a high-level of schooling and polish in that facet. As far as how I match up, she hits pretty hard and is quick, but realistically I have a massive physical edge and a massive skill edge. There’s a difference between being explosive and hitting hard at my size, and at hers, that’s just physics. But someone at her level can absolutely cause problems for someone more experienced and polished.

A nod.

Conor Blackburn: There’s a real danger in going in with the mindset that whatever your opponent does isn’t going to work, because it’s not as technical as you, or they don’t hit as hard as you. That’s where someone with that more scrappy, street-smart style can catch you with a strike that doesn’t have the textbook set up. Or you can get caught in a mental lapse in one of the in-between phases between striking and grappling. I have every tool to win decisively, but I cannot go out there acting like it’s a sparring or training session, because that’s where her drive and that attitude that comes with her level of experience where you don’t know you can’t do something, so you go out and accomplish it anyways gets an opponent in trouble. I am absolutely locked in and treating this like a dangerous fight.

Dave Scriven: And what’s your mindset for Pankration Rules, how do you think it affects the both of you?

Blackburn brushes a few stray hairs aside before answering.

Conor Blackburn: Well, there’s the obvious that with my mental prowess, with my skill in both striking and grappling, with my deeper set of tools and layers to my game there are going to be a lot more openings for me to exploit than the last round. Now, those in between spaces are also going to present a danger area for me if I allow them, since there can be shifts between strikes and grappling. There’s also the upside for her that strikes on the ground aren’t allowed, because having someone much larger than you on top in a mounted crucifix smashing you with elbows will make you lose a lot more than a match.

A sly wink.

Conor Blackburn: Naturally, having a well-schooled grappler with a significant size advantage working their top game-- and I do have an educated one-- is still a bad predicament to be in. But, the long and short of it is, I prepare to be ready for any rule set I compete in. Each setting can either work to my advantage, or disadvantage depending on how I approach them. It is not about that, it is about me as a competitor, performing at my peak. I’m not looking to rely on just my size, or just being a ‘veteran who can teach lessons and give a prospect loss’ or any one aspect to win me this fight. My mindset, my job is to go out there and be superior. That means having the right frame of mind, treating this as the fight it is with the proper intensity, game planning properly, and allowing myself to see the proper moves to make as the fight unfolds and adjust as necessary.

He gives what could be deemed a dismissive wave of the hand.

Conor Blackburn: I am absolutely not disparaging my opposition, I am being honest in assessing her strengths and weakness. If I wanted to be cruel or dismissive, I would have mocked her for tweeting her doing some glorified cardio kickboxing as ‘preparation’ for a striking match, but I am not doing that. Because the fact is, what she did worked for her; that deserves to be acknowledged. But the fact of the matter is, it is up to me how far I go, no matter who the opponent. My capabilities are at that level, and my destiny is in my own hands.

Conor casually pushed the mic away.

Conor Blackburn: Thank you for your time.

[BAD ASS]

(For whatever reason Torreon was incapable of hosting a press conference with a strong AC unit. What these poor wrestlers, MMA fighters, and journalists got was a muggy 85 degrees. Not the hottest but the humidity was like walking through a damp, warm cloud. Which left a lot of the performers on the stage airing out their shirts and drinking more bottled water than usual. BAD ASS wasn’t having that, so he made a phone call.)

BAD ASS: Yeah you know the AC unit I left in the rent a car? Pull that bitch out and put it on a rolling TV cart. And get me a Monster too. Bitch.

(Five minutes later Toast comes out onto the stage rolling out a portable AC unit over to BAD ASS. The crowd, and even the fighters are drawn to Toast flicking on the AC unit and blasting BAD ASS with cold air. Leaning back in his leather rolling chair, BAD ASS smiles and rests his hands behind the back of his head.)

BAD ASS: Ahhhhh….this is champ life right here fucks. Don’t be jealous, be prepared.

(After a good ten seconds of AC showboating, he sits forward and waves at Toast in a ‘give it’ motion. Toast snaps to it and pulls out an ice cold Monster Energy Drink from his white (well, more like yellow now from the stains) leisure suit and hands it to BAD ASS. He then positions the drink to the camera to the side of him, showing a shot of him standing bare chested with the CGFC Divine Championship over his shoulder. After showing that off to the camera with a cocky grin, he holds it up to the rest of the fighters and points at the can.)

BAD ASS: That’s me. Right there. Me. That could be all of you one day.

(Then he turns the pointing can gesture to his opponent James Edwards.)

BAD ASS: Aspire to be like this James! Aspire to have awesome sponsorships, because wrestling don’t pay shit! I see why you’re working in a bajillion companies, you have to just to make ends meet. I get it. But keep in mind you’re only young once. Going at this pace you’ll be more broken and busted up then Seth Black.

(“OHHHH!!”s from the audience as Seth gives BAD ASS a set of narrowed eyes and smirk.)

BAD ASS: Which brings me to a burning question I have for Seth before I face burning gonorrhea James Edwards. Seth, explain to me what the fuck Pancrase Rules are. Because you know me, I love my Japanese MMA. That fucking indecisive company has undergone like four different rule changes in it’s existence, so please tell me what to expect.

(Seth’s eyes pop, surprised at a question like that early.)

Seth Black: Well the best way I can describe it is a blend of the current rule set with the old. To simply put it...I’ll just say it’s unified MMA rules with no ground strikes. Everything else you would expect from an MMA match is there. Rope breaks are legal but will cost you a point every time. Five in a fight earns a DQ. Same goes for any fouls the ref deems worthy of docking a point on.

*CRACK KACUSH*

(The Monster can is cracked open right by BAD ASS’s mic, once again drawing all the attention to him. He guzzles from the can generously, then slams it down on the table with an “AHHH”. Being that all eyes are on him, he looks to Seth with a cheesy grin and a thumbs up.)

BAD ASS: Thanks for the clarity budday. So I can beat the shit out of James Edwards on the feet and get three rounds to do so. Cool.

(There’s a light hum over the crowd so BAD ASS decides to get them kick started after having that little energy boost. He claps his hands together then looks around.)

BAD ASS: Alright let’s stop farting around and let’s do our fucking jobs! Journalists, give me questions, and make them good!

(That buzz from the crowd heats up, and a white male wearing a skintight black Affliction shirt and bedazzled jeans take the dive.)

REPORTER: Hi, James Tully from Red Panty Night blog. While there is some buzz about James Edwards, a lot of people are wondering if this is interfering with your training for the returning Prince Pierre Paul who you fight at the end of the month.

BAD ASS: Alright first off, no P3 questions. I will answer P3 questions when I do a press conference for fucking P3. Right now I’m facing James Edwards in a couple of days, so that’s my focus, and it should be yours as well. So you stand there and come up with a James Edwards question for me.

(The reporter looks confused as clearly he’s an MMA bro. But he looks over at James and tries his best to formulate something. Meanwhile BAD ASS turns to Sandy and Maz.)

BAD ASS: Hey. I like you two motherfuckers. So share in my AC.

(He grabs a hold of the rolling TV cart and rolls the AC unit to his side, causing it to blow on BA, Sandy, Maz, well most of his row. With his fellow fighters beating the heat, BAD ASS turns back to the confused bro with his hands held out.)

BAD ASS: AND!?....

(There’s some sputtering, but eventually he blurts out something.)

REPORTER: Um….okay. Well, um, what have you done to train for James Edwards?

BAD ASS: Okay. Generic as fuck but it’s an attempt. But now that I think about it, I’m going to answer your P3 question. This tournament is not interfering in my training for P3. If anything it’s strengthening my training for P3. Every two weeks I’m getting a fresh challenge in this tournament. A different set of moves and a different style than the next. That is on top of the opponent specific sparring I’ve been doing for P3 down at Slaughtahouse Oahu. I’m staying fluid, strong, and injury free. P3 on the other hand is no doubt going to be rusty, and I’ll expand on that when the time comes. As for James? Well I’ve been able to keep it real simple and fun for this mini-training camp. Just sticking to muay thai and forgetting about the ground game as this kid can’t touch me on the mat. James prides himself on his stand up. He loves to stand and bang, well so do I. I’ve seen the kid do his ‘MMA-themed’ strong style on wrestlers and it’s well, sufficient for pro wrestling. But do I think that style will emulate well to a what is essentially an MMA fight? Not in the least. I appreciate his aggression but you go bull in a china shop on a brutal technician like me and you will get countered in a devastating fashion. That ‘swarm in waves’ technique will get picked apart by even a beginning professional.

REPORTER: Um...thanks.

(Clearly not caring about James, or anything pro wrestling related, Affliction boy sits down and tank top boy stands up. A rail thin mexican kid with a electric blue tank top and a pooka shell necklace smiles at BAD ASS uncomfortably.)

REPORTER: Hi, I’m Fernando.

(Sky blushes and covers his mouth with his question card. He then clears his throat and composes himself as BAD ASS raises an eyebrow.)

REPORTER: My question for you BAD ASS (giggles to himself), is you beat that Chase Manni boy silly. Are you gonna slap around James as bad as him, or even worse?

(A whistle and a look away from BAD ASS, followed by a wide eyed “WOW”. He takes a swig off his energy drink and turns to the awkward young man.)

BAD ASS: First off, I didn’t slap around Chase Manni. I broke his fucking jaw and knocked him out unconscious. I fucked him up so bad he’s retweeting previously posted pictures of himself because he doesn’t want to show off his Elephant man lookin’ face. As for James, look, don’t shit on the talent. That’s my job, if I deem it necessary. I mean I’ll be real about James, since you wanna no sell the poor kid. He’s a talented touring indy guy who’s making a name for himself as of late. Big name in Japan and a champ, notable here in the states for his FGA, HKW Underground, and PW stints. I’ve had the opportunity to see him and the kid is good, real good. But he’s still fairly green. Promising though for a pro wrestler. As for fighting an MMA fighter at the top of his game? Not applicable. It’s like comparing a 16 year old gangbanging tagger to a master painter. He has a lot of ‘MMA-like’ techniques that make him stand out from the rest of the flippity flip kick machines, but he’s in no way shape or form prepared to take on a beginning pro MMA fighter, nonetheless a top champion in the sport. Being self taught in BJJ and and kickboxing doesn’t compare to a purple belt in BJJ and a black belt in Muay Thai. Do I think this kid has some pop? Of course. But he doesn’t have the technique to stand across that ring and defeat me. Give me a few good shots? Why not. But in no universe can I see this strong style youngin’ defeating me. And if he comes at me like he usually does in his fights, he will get knocked out. I would hope he fights a way smarter fight than he usually does.

(A blown kiss and a bow from the admiring journalist.)

REPORTER: Thank you sweetie.

(All BAD ASS can do is shake his head and go for another swig as another reporter stands up. It’s another dude, this one on the heavier side and african american. Immediately BAD ASS holds up a hand as he sets down his can.)

BAD ASS: Please don’t hit on me.

(Laughs from the crowd, and from the Biggie Smalls look a like about to ask him a question.)

REPORTER: HAHAHA nah man I ain’t about that.

BAD ASS: Good. What’s your question?

REPORTER: I know you already said that you did this tournament just because it seemed like a cool thing to do. But let’s be real. You’re a top champ in MMA. You got a lot to risk putting your name in this tournament. What’s the real reason?

(Chatter throughout the crowd as BAD ASS gives a slight nod.)

BAD ASS: You want the real reason? Fine. Much like all the other champs and legends up here, I got something to prove. What am I proving? That this…

(Holds up the Divine Championship to the crowd, then sets it down lightly.)

BAD ASS: Isn’t on a fluke. In this tournament I could very well look like less of a champion with one loss. I firmly accept that threat, and I double down on it to prove my supremacy. Every champion in this tournament has balls, and that’s exactly what you need to win this tournament. I am the real deal, and you’re going to see it spades as I take on the biggest names MMA and pro wrestling has to offer and defeat them. I’m not going to make condescending remarks on Twitter about how great I am. I‘m going out there and fucking proving it. At this point of the tournament I’m lickin’ my chops at the talent that I could possibly face in the ring. Even facing James Edwards means something as this kid is busting his ass to get his name out there. I’m not gonna go out there and beating some random indie mid-carder, I’m going to take out a young lion in wrestling who is all over your TV right now. What Iron King is for me is a nice test of my skills, but also an addition to my legacy. Not too many men or women can say they’ve won a top world championship in both pro wrestling and MMA. The few that have, well they’ve never won a tournament featuring the best in pro wrestling and MMA. I want to be that man. Look at this fucking field right now. Five champions. Legends galore. A few diamonds in the rough. I’ve seen this tournament since it’s infancy, and I’ve never seen it hotter than it is this year. I couldn’t have picked a better year to throw my hat in.

REPORTER: Thank you.

BAD ASS: Alright, I got my question fill. Now I’m going to go back to enjoying my ice cold Monster Energy drink and AC while all of you swim in rivers of pit and ass sweat.

(Back to the lean back and the kick back as he pops in his earbuds. That familiar droning guitar intro from ‘Headstrong’ can be heard as we await the next brave journalist to stand.)

[Rowyn Starr]

The August heat was stifling. It was enough to drive one to madness.

Sitting at the end of the press conference table, Rowyn wondered if the gel packets in his pockets would be enough to ward off the sweltering Mexican temperature. The hum of the industrial generators that circulated air throughout the Coliseo Centenario did little to alleviate the high of the room temperature. If nothing else, it served as a constant undertone to the clicks and whines of camera shutters as photographers captured images of the sixteen contenders set to do battle in the second round of Phoenix Wrestling's Iron King Tournament.

Looking down the tables, Rowyn took a casual glance at each of his fellow participants. Each of them looked strong, with no obvious signs of weakness among them. Finally, his gaze reached Anastasia Starling at the end of the opposite table and his eyes lingered on the Rebirth Champion.

There she is. You have wanted this match since you came back to Phoenix Wrestling. Do you want what you're going to get, Rowyn? You had better find out and find out quickly.

He could hear Dierdra's voice in his head as clear as if she sitting next to him. Maybe she was. Rowyn hoped that it wasn't the worst of circumstances that was allowing the words to echo in his ears. Any thoughts of dwelling on such a mystery evaporated as Seth Black announced him as the next fighter to take questions from the throng of media representatives. He took a sip of water from the bottle on the table in front him and turned his attention toward the dozens of eyes and cameras that shifted their focus to him. The first person to stand up was a young man with a crew cut wearing a white short-sleeved shirt. Rowyn acknowledge him with a nod, ready for his question.

Matt Alford: Matt Alford with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. In the first round of the Iron King tournament, you won a match style suitable to your style of fighting. This round, it's pancrase rules. How will this affect your overall strategy?

A small pause of silence ensued before Rowyn spoke into the microphone in front of him.

Pancrase rules allow for a lot of mixed martial arts. There is a lot you can do and little you cannot, but that applies to Ana, too.

Rowyn: If memory serves me, the only things you can't do to your opponent in this type of match is bite them, gouge them in the eye, or hit them with strikes while they're down on the mat. I have no intention of doing any of that to Anastasia, legal or not. I'll still be able to grapple like I did in the opening round of the tournament, which means I'll have my abilities in technical wrestling and submissions holds to go to, but I'm aware that striking attacks are fair game in this round. My experience in using attacks like that in matches are limited, so it's not a strong style for me. My opportunities will be limited, so I'll have to make my kicks and punches count. Most of all, I've got to be ready to react and defend against Anastasia's striking game or it's going to be a long night in a short fashion.

Offense will win you matches, but defense and taking advantages of opening and mistakes caused by defense win titles. That applies in the Iron King as well.

So clear were the words that Rowyn almost didn't notice the next reporter standing up to field the next question, a dark-haired woman wearing a blue dress offset by a small white belt around her waist.

Heather Dech: Heather Dech with NBC Sports. Rowyn, this is your fourth Iron King tournament, but your next match will be the first time you've faced off against a female competitor. Your thoughts?

Rowyn: There's something special about one's first time.

Did I just say that? Wow. If Arkia Fisk-Jones is watching this, she's either shaking her head or laughing. Probably the latter.

This response gets some laughter from the members of the press and a raised eyebrow from Anastasia. A soft smile crosses Rowyn's features.

Be careful. You have enough enemies. Don't make another of this woman by giving her just cause to be one.

Rowyn: When you take part in the Iron King tournament long enough, you're going to face opponents of the opposite sex. It took me a bit longer than most, but I'm deeply humbled and honored that it's Anastasia I'm facing because she's carrying on a Phoenix Wrestling tradition of strong women that have dominated at top levels in the company.

The next reporter to stand is a man in a conservative dress suit with a Beatles haircut and horn-rimmed glasses.

Dustin Jackson: Dustin Jackson with ESPN Magazine. You spoke on Twitter that this match with Anastasia was a match that you wanted to have. Does it intimidate you to know that you're going to be facing Phoenix Wrestling's top champion?

Another pause as Rowyn takes a moment to clear his throat before speaking.

Rowyn: You can't talk about intimidation unless you talk about respect, too. The challenge that Ana presents is intimidating. It should be. She was there at the beginning when Phoenix Wrestling returned to prominence and in that time, she's been a two-time Rising Phoenix champion with her latter run an unbeaten one. That Rebirth Championship title belt sitting on the table in front of her signifies that she's currently the best wrestler in Phoenix Wrestling. Great champions find ways to win and that's something I have to respect about her as an opponent.

Please understand that I really do respect you and everything you've done, Ana. It is my hope that you will look upon me and not see me as a pushover or an afterthought in whatever you're seeking to prove to yourself. See me the way I see you now in terms of challenge.

Rowyn: This match came sooner than I expected since returning to Phoenix Wrestling, but I want to face Anastasia. In order to be the best, you have to beat the best. She's going to force me to go outside my comfort zone and I'm going to have to adapt, improvise, and overcome whatever game plan she has for me. With that being said, if you look at my history of matches against sitting champions, my biggest asset is being able to tap into my passion for wrestling and take my game to an elite level and those champions learned quickly that I'm full of surprises. People like Ron Swat. Reya Serra-Cornett. Juan Ramirez. Aurora Jansen. Arkia Fisk-Jones. Legacy. Even Rex Evans sitting over there.

Rowyn gives Rex a nod of respect as he mentions his name.

Rowyn: Every one of them thought that there was no way this Cherokee upstart could wrestle or fight with them inside the ropes. Every single one of them was disappointed.

Dustin Jackson: But your chances of winning, according to Las Vegas oddsmakers, are...

Here we go again. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Rowyn speaks, cutting off the reporter.

Rowyn: I apologize for stepping on your statement, but please don't tell me the odds. Look back at my first Iron King tournament. No one knew anything about me. No one expected me to get out of the first round and I surprised everyone with an improbable semi-final run. The only thing that's the same between then and now is being labeled an underdog. When that happens, my back is to the wall and I've got to go out there and give everything I've got in my body, my soul, and most importantly, my heart to show both the fans and my peers how strong and tenacious my fighting spirit is and how determined I am to win the Iron King tournament.

Everyone has their own goals about why they're here, but no one save Conor has really expressed being here with mindset of winning out and becoming the Iron King or Queen. That's why I'm here. To do just that, odds be damned.

Another reporter stands up, this one a blonde woman wearing a peach blouse dress shirt and tan slacks.

Melissa Moor: Melissa Moor with the Portland Daily Bugle. Your match against Richard Roque was your first in Mexico and the reaction you got from the fans was incredible. Do you worry that against a fan favorite like Anastasia that you won't have that kind of support in the upcoming match?

A deep breath is taken by Rowyn. He takes another sip of water as well before answering the question.

Oh, great. This is a loaded question if I ever heard one. After Ana's reaction on Twitter about being booed in her last match? How do I answer this one without giving her added motivation? Or making her an enemy? Or both?

Be yourself, moy-drook. She deserves to be motivated to face you, but make sure that it's honorable motivation.

Rowyn: That's a tough question. One thing I love about our fan base is that they have that freedom to express how they feel when they spend their hard-earned dinero to see our matches live. Our dark stars and songbirds will be cheering both of us on in our match, but if we both go out there and do what we do best, we'll have every single person in attendance rocking in the aisles. When they do that, I know that I've got their support and that Anastasia's got it, too.

Don't have a stick stuck up your butt about how the fans are going to react to you, Ana. Just face me like the champion you are. Like the champion I expect you to be. Like the champion I know you to be. That's all I want out of you in this match because you don't have to prove anything else to me.

Melissa: And what do you see as being key to a victory?

Rowyn: With Anastasia's speed, it's going to be to her advantage to try to win quickly so I have to avoid the early knockout or submission. Weather her storm with my strengths in resilience and persistence in a way that allows me to dictate the match pace and wear her down. The longer the match goes, the better my chances are of winning.

Seth Black: It's almost time to move on to the next participant. Rowyn, do you have anything else you'd like to say?

I wish you were here, Dia. I don't know if I can keep on keeping on without you, my moy unalii. I don't know what happened to you or where you are, but I've never given up on trying to find you and I won't stop until we're together again. I love you.

As long as you keep me in your heart, Rowyn, I will be with you no matter where you are or what trials you face. Forever and always. I love you.

Rowyn: Thank you to everyone who's stood with me, whether it be when I first came here six years ago or when I came back two months ago. From the bottom of my heart, thank you very much and I'll do my very best out there for all of you.

As the focus shifts elsewhere, Rowyn gives a gentle caress of the ring on his left fourth finger with his right thumb and then turns his attention to the rest of the press conference.

[Maz]

The steady train that kept rolling and rolling, none other than the ‘devilsome’ one, Masaru Inoue. Recovering from the events that took place at Pro Wrestling RAIDEN’s “Operation Intrude N313” Show alongside he and his wonderful partner in Aurora (Hell Is Waiting), now here he was in what felt appropriate to Hell ... Torreon, Mexico, ahead of Phoenix Wrestling’s third night of the Iron King Tournament. And just like previous, the conference room was crowded, folks awaiting to get in their questions to “Satan’s Son”. In a surprising relaxed state, Masaru rested in his chair, again glasses and a black hat on his head. A Slayer shirt on and a pair of jeans were his attire as he pointed his index finger at one of the reporters.

MASARU INOUE: “Ask away!”

MARK MENUNES: “Hi Sir, I’m Mark Menunes from MMA México, my question is to you is how have you prepared to go against the now former CGFC Dragon Champion, Jason Jackson? You both are coming off of impressive TKO’s last time against Fenix Shields and “The Collective” own, Tony Tira. What’s the plan?”

A long, drastic sigh escaped from Maz’s mouth as he seemed slightly irked already. Sitting up in his chair, he shook his head.

MASARU INOUE: “It wouldn’t be much of a plan if I just “spilled beans” would it? I caught his last 'hoorah' match in CGFC and his post-match speech. If I had the ability to shed tears, it would've been that moment. He's meant a lot to CGFC. He was the face of the company. But on the continuance of my response, I can’t just bite him. It’s illegal and I don’t want to lose. Jason Jackson is a....and I rarely say this, but he’s a stud. He’s been dominant everywhere he’s been and people saw just why against Tony Tira who isn’t bad himself...”

Masaru pulled back from the mic as he shook his head, realizing he just complimented an enemy.

MASARU INOUE: “...It’s going to be tough but I’ve gone against worst odds and came out it. It was messy, it was violent but I stood tall at the end. He’s going to toss my light frame around until I become incoherent, I’ve watched a few of his fights and I’ve seen the torture he puts his opponents through before sealing their fate. I don’t give in, my tolerance of pain is Hall of Fame levels. Mark, a clinch and knee-crushing blows to the temple, not even the biggest, strongest can stand that for long. Masaru is different. Jason will be introduced to just why I’m a dangerous species.”

He went to rest his back again to the chair, pointing to the next.

LISA VALDEZ: “Hello Masaru or Maz! My question to you, are you completely healthy and focus going into this huge matchup? I’ve noted the fact you are coming off of a match in another promotion.”

Masaru just smiles at the young lady who was in her mid to late twenties.

MASARU INOUE: “Am I healthy? Am I focused? Yes, I am, without a doubt. Surely my partner and I took one to the chin figuratively in defeat but that was a week ago. I am good to go. My focus is on Jason and his Tae-Kwon Do along with Boxing, not to mention the fact he sports a purple belt in Brazilian Ju-Jitsu. I have my work cut out for me but I’m ready for the punishment he intends to deliver. I only hope he is ready for what I intend to do to him.”

MASARU INOUE: “The saying of David vs. Goliath, that shit is cliche. I’m not David nor is he Goliath. He’s just a big ass dude with a Strongman physique. An excellent one, but I got a recipe for disaster that big, strong men like him loathe. One moment, one mistake, Jason Jackson’s dreams of becoming Iron King Winner will fade to darkness.”

He gave Jackson a nice little smirk before returning his attention back to the reviewers.

JOSE HERNANDEZ: “My name is Jose and concerning this tournament. From research, you’ve been in every one that has took place but has never won it. What makes you think, for this time, it is yours to win?”

Masaru, almost a bit taken back from that question, he gave the man a subtle nod.

MASARU INOUE: “Simply because of growth, knowledge. You play the game enough times, you get a feel for what is need to be done. Even though every year there are new names, new challenges, you have grown used to it. I have yet to win one because I took the value of hurting folks, making them feel my pain over getting the job done. Don’t think for a second that much has changed with my logic. I still enjoy making y opponent hurt, but my priorities have changed. This is the only thing that has alluded my career here in Phoenix. I’m ‘gunning’ to be the next winner.”

MASARU INOUE: “This tournament is a wonderful experience for outsiders who want to show off their skills. Even those who are just finding out about Phoenix, they are getting their best experience in this tournament so far. If you are just a wrestler that just is a Suplex-Machine but can’t strike, these challenges of these tournaments will get you out of your comfort zone. To be stripped of the one things you know how to do against one that excels at it, it pressures you. It’s your choice to let the pressure consume you or learn on the fly. My opponent over here, he’s done his research on me, he’s a smart guy. In real-time, its an experience, win or lose, that he nor I will never forget. I will feel his raw power and he will feel my wrath with the striking power I possess. Good luck to you Jason, I hope you brought your pain-relieving tablets. You’re going to need them!”

MELISSA RAMOS: “Sir, wait..one more question. More of a fun one, if you don’t mind. Besides your fight, which other fight or fights are you looking forward to?”

Another sigh escaped him as he was just about to rest back into the chair but he remained in an upright posture in the chair as he went on to answer the lady’s question. He gave it some thought, clearing his throat in the process.

MASARU INOUE: “Interesting question. Besides my fight, the ones that I’m looking forward to are Zola and Conor. Umm...Chevy looked good last time, an interesting matchup against Carrick. Also Rowyn and Anastasia. We all could be vying for Match of the Night. Is that a good enough answer?”

MELISSA RAMOS: “Si! Gracias!”

Masaru finally was able to rest as he wanted against the chair, folding his arms across his chest. His feet tapped lightly against the floor as he watched the reporters swarm with their arms up to the next fighter.

[James Edwards]

The live feed pans out and reveals both journalists and combatants tugging at their collars or fanning themselves to escape the stagnant, humid, and cramped room within the Coliseo Centenario; body and technology overheating the ordinarily comfortable room in a youngish arena. While BAD Ass reclines back in his seat, title belt on his shoulder and a smug grin on his face due to him being the coolest man in the room, James Edwards slouches in his chair on the opposite side of the stage.

Dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt and with a Pittsburgh Pirates cap jammed tight on his head, it is difficult to gather whether the heat is causing the Burning Heart to nod off or if his discomfort in media situations is resulting in a panic attack. Regardless, he is surprised when a heavyset Caucasian journalist addresses him.

Reporter: Nate Sherman, BigDogMMA.com, James what are your thoughts on what your opponent said about you a few minutes ago.

James Edwards: Huh?

Nate huffs and repeats himself, the edge apparent in his voice.

Nate Sherman: I asked what you think of about BAD ASS’ comments about you.

James shrugs his shoulders.

James Edwards: I don’t really give a shit what he said about me.

Nate gives another indignant huff.

Nate Sherman: So you’re not going to give me or the rest of my colleagues, not to mention your opponent who graciously praised--

James Edwards: Whoa there.

James sits up from his slouched position and holds a hand up to indicate for Nate to stop.

James Edwards: I answered your damn question. I didn’t have a damn thing to say about it because it’s a waste of your time and mine to go on and on about how I feel. How I feel about the fight is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is what happens in the---

Nate Sherman: I wasn’t finished, James.

The reporter spits out the sentence in a tone of voice reminiscent of a cat in the throes of passion.

Nate Sherman: We’re here for your benefit. Without us, the combat sports media, no one would care about a fight between an overmatched pro wrestler and a serious fighter--

James Edwards: Oh I see where this shit is going.

The Burning Heart raises the brim of his cap, revealing slitten eyes. He then stabs his right pointer finger forward like a general ordering his army to charge.

James Edwards: So you’re being gracious like that prick over there was.

He jerks his head in the direction of BAD ASS.

James Edwards: It’s funny you call guys like that a serious fighter because a serious fighter doesn’t hold up a press conference so his little buddy can go fetch his air conditioner. A serious fighter doesn’t belittle his past opponent--

Nate Sherman: Oh you mean Chase Manni?

Sherman crosses his arms and smirks like he just delivered the punchline of a private joke that only he and a few others understand.

James Edwards: Yeah, Chase Manni, a guy I’ve been in the ring with before and a guy who gave me a helluva fight; a guy who despite a marked disadvantage still entered this tournament, was the fight competitive? Hell no it wasn’t, but he showed a lot of guts and deserved more respect than pricks like you give--

Nate Sherman: Speaking of wrestlers, you advanced over an injured Chris Andrew, aren’t you concerned about the apparent lack of preparation that gives you?

Edwards bares gritted teeth.

James Edwards: Chris Andrew is a champion in this company who could’ve pulled out our fight because of serious injuries he sustained in a brutal battle. He showed and never quit, his wife threw in the towel. He would’ve kept going, I guarantee it, and that takes a big pair of balls in my book to fight hurt.

Nate goes to interrupt James. To his surprise the Burning Heart rises from his seat, taking the microphone stand with him.

James Edwards: Oh know you don’t, asshole.

James fiddles with the stand for a moment and finally frees the microphone. He moves to center stage.

James Edwards: You wanted me to say something, well I finally got somethin’ to say, so sit down and quit cutting me off.

Nate doesn’t comply. Instead, he grabs his belongings and storms out of the room, and despite his exit, the atmosphere remains tense.

James Edwards: So y’all wanna why I don’t accept the praise of Mr. ASS over there?

The question is rhetorical.

James Edwards: Cause’ he said it outta the side of his mouth. If he respected me, then he would show respect to all wrestlers in this tournament. If he thinks I'm good then he should praise me for my skills no matter which combat sport I fight in. I've faced a thousand guys like him before The bastards built me up just enough where if they lose they can save face and claim it was because of a puncher's chance or some such shit like that. And if they won, all those pretty words went by the wayside and the fight was easy as shit. You can't have it both ways. Either say what you really mean or keep your mouth shut, but runnin' the mouth without thinkin' seems to pertain to quite a few of the CGFC folks.  I can’t remember who it was, but one of the MMA asshole’s said my sport is staged. Tell me somethin’? Does the blood we bleed look fake? Does the audible crack of bones on a shit load of fights uploaded to YouTube sound staged? I tell you what if you believe any of that you can backstage after the event and see my bruised knuckles or the best on back of my head. If that’ ain’t enough to convince you then I don’t know what will.

He pauses to catch his breath.

James Edwards: So let me tell y’all what it's like to be a professional wrestler since some of you don’t think we’re serious fighters. I don’t take breaks after I fight once every few months. I fight two or three times a week. I fight more than one person and sometimes I do it where the only rule is don’t kill the guy opposite of you in the ring. I fight hurt and I fight in places where there is a good chance I’m gonna get my ass kicked the second I walk in the building because the promoter wants to create some bullshit story instead of letting the action do the talkin’. And do all this while some in the serious sports media wanna shit all over me and the rest of us involved in a ‘carnie sport’.

His sarcasm is thicker than sorghum.

James Edwards: Sometimes it ain’t worth it. Sometimes I wonder why I do it, but then when I read and hear bullshit like that, I remember why I do this. I love the challenge of overcoming mismatches; the thrill of having to adapt to more than one set of rules like MMA fighters do; the knowledge that despite my fatigue and injuries I’m still good enough to out week after week and prove I’m the best in promotions the way around the world. I've been a champion almost non-stop for the past two years in multiple companies on multiple continents at the same time. I've worked my way from the bottom up almost everytime and I've done without any goddamn help.  So believe me when I say and will win this fight. It is gonna be a pleasure to do so.

He pauses to catch his breath.

James Edwards:  It is also gonna be a pleasure to prove I can beat one of MMA’s best standin’ up or on the ground even if I learned at my own pace instead of trainin' at a brand name gym; it is gonna be a pleasure to watch the CGFC doubters eat crow when I beat one of their champions in a fight that mimics their rules, and he ain't gonna be the only one. I've already beaten one champion in this tournament and soon it will be two. I expect to add more names to that list, names like Diamond or Jackson. Even Starling or fuckin' Winters.

The last name comes out like a piece of rancid food being spit across the table.

James Edwards: Doubt me if you want. Look down at me at your own peril. At some point, I'll make a believer outta all my doubters.

He moves back to the table and slides into his seat.

James Edwards: That's a promise y'all can print.

[wadjethotep]

As the camera pans the table we see all of the competitors still left in this years Iron King tournament. Towards the far left of the table we see Tyberius King. King is wearing a brown single breasted suit and has the Vengeance Pro Undisputed championship on the table for display. King looks calm as he has been listening to the replies of others throughout the day. Till finally he hears his name called.

Reporter #1: Hey Ty, this is Kevin Simonson of Pro Wrestling Inquiry, how are you feeling headed into the second round of the tournament?

King knew it was a generic question but at the same time someone was bound to ask it. That didn’t mean that he would treat it with annoyance though. A friendly smile was given as he leaned into the microphone.

Ty: I’m feeling very well right now. I’ve been keeping up with training and I’m feeling loose and fit as we go on to the next round of matches.

Ty thought that was the end from the reporter but apparently that was only his lead in question.

Reporter #1: In the first young you defeated Jackson Felix Coltrane in a match where you had the advantage and the experience. However some felt like you should have had the win much earlier. What are your thoughts on that?

King was a slight bit annoyed by the question but chose not to show it, instead he kept the same cool as he responded.

Ty: I don’t feel like the time in which the victory came really matters as long as it’s a victory. Jackson was a great competitor who showed a lot of heart. Plus I feel as if you forget that I’m known for taking my time in the ring. I’m never really in a rush to end matches or anything like that. My goal is just to win.

The reporter nodded as he made some notes and sat down. Another reporter quickly stood up to grab his attention.

Reporter #2: Hey Ty, Ramona Fisher from West Coast Wrestling Insider, this round you face a tough challenge in Rex Evans. How do you feel about Rex and how do you feel about him being given a second chance in the tournament.

King looks down the table at Rex for a moment before turning back to the reporter.

Ty: Rex is one hell of a talent. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the man. Just look at the accomplishments he has made during his career. While rewatching the first round I noticed one of the commentary team made a comment about me being a legend. Now most people know that’s a compliment I don’t really like as I don’t feel as if I have done enough to receive that label. Rex on the other hand deserves that title. This is a man who has been through some real wars through his career and has come through the other side. It is an honor and a privilege to be able to share a ring with him. Now I previously mentioned how I rewatched the first round. Obviously I watched Rex’s match plenty of times in preparation for this match and I feel like the split decision could be a bit controversial because I think it really could have gone either way. I might even go as far to say I feel as if Rex won that match. So I feel he deserves to be here as much as anyone else in the second round. Is it terrible that Starlight couldn’t continue but Rex was the right person to be put in the place for a second chance.

A few people clamored at his response while other reporters were trying to get his attention. Finally he chose one.

Reporter #3: Hey Ty, Randy Howard from sportsfanatics.com, Now do you feel because Rex lost his first match that you have it easier or harder walking into your match.

Ty had to think for a moment. This was a question that he liked, one that made him really detail it in thought. After a brief pause he started to answer.

Ty: I would say harder really. I mean I don’t think Rex is the type of person who’s going to stroll in there and waste a second opportunity, do you? He is going to come at me firing all cylinders looking to make best of his second chance. I think what makes it even more difficult for me is that Rex really has nothing to lose here cause he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place according to the judges of his first match but I’ve already made my comment on that. Rex can come out here and take some risks because if he loses it's just a loss, if he wins it’s the possibility of a redemption story and could possibly lead to a rematch which is what I’m sure he would love the chance for.

Ty thought he was going to move on to another reporter but Mr. Howard quickly asked another question.

Reporter #3: So does that mean you feel that you think you’re at the disadvantage coming into the match?

Ty: No, I wouldn’t say that. Anyone can win a match on any day. Nothing is set in stone until the final bell rings. Obviously I’ve done my homework leading into this match. I’ve been watching Rex wrestle for a long time. I am very familiar with his brother’s work as well. Plus the stipulations of this match are something I can work well with.

More people begin to try and grab Ty’s attention and he randomly selects a reporter from the crowd.

Reporter #4: Hey Ty, DeSean Washington from mmarecorder.com, now Rex stated earlier that he has cross trained in Muai Thai and Boxing. As someone who also has an extensive martial arts background how do you respond to that?

King adjusted his jacket as he pulled the microphone on the table closer to him. He took a breath and then began to respond.

Ty: The first thing that immediately comes to mind is that those are both martial arts that are striking based. My background is grappling based. Now this is an age old argument in the mma community that has been going on since the dawn of the sport of what is better and what background is the better. I’m assuming you want honesty to I’ll have to give my input here. For the most part I feel as if grapplers do better in MMA than strikers. Once we have someone on the ground we know how to keep them there and keep the pressure on. Now that doesn’t mean that Rex isn’t a capable grappler. He wouldn’t have the accomplishments he has if he wasn’t. I’ve dealt with a lot of strikers in my career and I know how to deal with them. Also the more I think about it, his boxing isn’t really going to help him in this match and neither is a lot of the Muai Thai besides the kicks. These rules aren’t really friendly to that.

Washington quickly snuck in another question.

Reporter #4: Another quick question, are you upset at all that you’re not facing a Caged Glory FC fighter as you mentioned at your last press conference that you really want a pro wrestling vs MMA match up?

King just smiled before he replied.

Ty: I will never be disappointed facing Rex Evans no matter the circumstances surrounding it.

Another reporter quickly shouted out a question, and it was a face King remembered.

Reporter #5: Hey Ty, Anders Kamara of MMA cyclone, what is it about these rules that you feel give you the best chance of advancing to the next round?

King was happy that he remembered to call him by his first name this time.

Ty: Hey Anders, nice to see you again, when you look at these rules I think it’s important to know who invented them. Catch wrestlers who wanted to incorporate some aspects of pro wrestling in them? Doesn’t that sound like someone you know?

King gave a wink to the crowd which resulted in some laughter and even a smile from him.

Ty: In all seriousness these are essentially shoot style rules, and as I remember telling you the last time you asked me a question I am a shoot style wrestler. Now while closed fists are allowed to the body in these kinds of matches they are not allowed to the head. Anyone who has watched me recently knows that I have switched to only using open handed strikes to the head for a while now. Now Rex has stated he has a background in striking arts but he can’t catch me with any headshots, plus he will have to remember to only throw open handed strikes when going high which might be hard to remember. I can work without throwing elbows, knees, and stomps to the head although the last two just aren’t allowed on the ground. I can live with the limited rope breaks because with my background I pretty much know a way out of most things. As everyone knows I hate sounding cocky. It is important to be humble, but these are rules I can work well with and honestly suit exactly to my strengths. These are dream rules for me. Now just because of that doesn’t mean I’m guaranteed anything. Boxers have won fights with body shots before and I know that Rex is going to have to maximize his strengths the best he can to try and beat me. I’ve got to watch out for body shots and kicks. This is still anyone’s match. I just need to keep a straight head and move forward with a solid game plan to move on to the next challenge.

A mix of reporters are still trying to grab the attention of King as he tries to pick out ones who he feels will give him the best question. Finally he picks someone near the back.


Reporter #6: Megan Herringshaw from americanwrestlinginfo.com, The way you’ve been talking about Rex so far it almost seems that you’re intimidated by him. Is that the case?

King just let out a small laugh and took a drink of his water.

Ty: No, I’m not intimidated by Rex nor am I afraid of him. What I am is aware. I clearly know what Rex is capable of and how far he is willing to push himself when all the chips are slid across the table and it’s win or go home. That is what makes tournaments great. These first time matches where there is so much on the table that you know they’re going to deliver. Now most people might be concerned when they see Rex’s name across from them but that isn’t the case here. See I am well aware that there are two options in a match like this. Either you walk into that ring with a head full of doubt and lose the match for yourself before you’re opponent even has the chance or you walk out there with a head full of heart and you keep fighting until you can’t keep going any longer. I think everyone in here knows that I am much more about the later. Yes Rex is tough but I am a man who does not have quit in his vocabulary. So if Rex is looking for that big comeback victory here then it’s going to take a lot more than he imagines. I still welcome the challenge. I’d love for Rex to be another name I’ve beaten on my way to becoming the absolute best in the world while going on to be the next Iron King.

King made sure that he delivered the words with meaning. He wanted the whole world to know his intentions and that he meant every word of it. This match was going to be a war but that was nothing new to him. He was ready.

Ty: Alright everyone I think I’m done answering questions tonight. I wish you all a wonderful evening and I hope you enjoy the show.

King then took a drink and leaned back in his chair. The bell for his match couldn’t ring soon enough.

[Silver Eagle]

(As the eyes glanced down the table, the reporters looked towards the glistening gold belt that rested in front of the champion. Said champion had been silent this entire time, quietly listening in to everything that had been said previously by the numerous competitors who were looking to give their absolute all in the Iron King Tournament. She could see the eyes staring at her, each and everyone of them waiting in anticipation for what the reigning champion had to say. She didn’t seem to be her usual, bubbly self, looking a little tired and a tiny bit paler than normal, like some form of ethereal beauty raised from the spirit world and presented in front of the masses. Even her attire was muted, gone were the bright colours and dazzling designs, and instead she wore a simple yet striking little black number, not to short to be risque, not too long to be prude. Her rich curls were tied up, hints of purple amongst the brunette. )

ANASTASIA STARLING: ...

(And there was the stare. It was a tactic often used by her legendary Uncle, Andreas Lasiewicz. Utter silence, the deadly stare, and the slightest turn of the head, slow and purposeful, that would force the audience to lock onto her eyes and follow them. With those striking heterochromia afflicted eyes of hers, this only made the moment more captivating, and she held the entire room in the palm of her hand, as if she had hypnotised the entire audience. All was quiet, until the silence was finally broken.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: MINE!

(Her voice, high pitched yet powerful, cut through the air like a knife to butter, and she raised her Rebirth title proudly in the air. She continued her stare as the press looked on, seemingly the confidence being drained out of them as the tiny star seemed to grow in stature before their very eyes. The first signs of emotion showed on her pretty face, her cherry red lips curling up into a smirk as she lowered her title and let it rest upon her shoulder.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: Questions? I likes the questions!

(The first man to stand had a wide smile on his face and huge arms, familiar to almost all in the room as the famed wrestling reporter, David Scriven. Anastasia recognised him instantly, giving the man who had given her three 5 star match reviews in the past two years a polite curtzy.)

DAVID SCRIVEN: We all know that you are no stranger to the Iron King Tournament, Ms. Starling, having reached the Semi Final stage last year. You were quite negative in your feedback to the tournament last year, after you were eliminated by Aurora Jansen via Judge’s decision. Would you care to elaborate on that, as I do believe you have not truly answered those questions thoroughly.

ANASTASIA STARLING: I… didn’t agree with them.

(Anastasia was firm with her words, though it was clear that she took a brief moment to consider her answer..)

ANASTASIA STARLING: I don’t believe a match should be decided by opinion, even though I hold a victory over Arkia Jones via the exact same means. It just doesn’t rest easy with me. Now, I know that this is the case in mixed martial arts contests, and this tournament is much more similar to those than traditional professional wrestling, so I understand entirely why it is in place. But… I still feel that a match should just go on if no winner can be decided, so there is a truly rightful winner.

(She lowered her head for a moment, but raising it with fire within her eyes.)


ANASTASIA STARLING: And I stick by the notion that I had that match won. But my belief was not as important as theirs, last year. And that loss hurt, and that was my first chance to hold what I am holding now.

(She looked down to the title on her shoulder, before she raised it high once again.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: But it made me more determined than ever before, and while they picked the favourite, it drove me harder and faster and made me push every single little thing I do in that ring not only to the limit, but past the limits that anyone else has. People talk about pushing it to eleven, but I go two steps further each and every time I go out there, and thirteen is an unlucky number to each and every person I face, whether here in Phoenix, in the Underground, in England for the Shooting Stars or right here, right now in the Iron King tournament!

(Scriven nodded as he sat down, and another familiar face popped up, one Lark Robinson, the bubbly chatterbox of the Underground brand who knew Anastasia all too well.)

LARK ROBINSON: Hi, Birdie! Now we all know about your high success rate in tournaments. You’ve won the likes of the Queen of the Mountain, the Global Frontier Invitational and even the Rising Phoenix tournament here last year. You’ve also progressed far in the (R)Evolution Top of the Class tournament, finishing as a runner up and you were a runner up in last year’s Queen of the Mountain as well. How do you prepare yourself for such tournaments, and are you doing anything different to the norm this time over.

ANASTASIA STARLING:Well...

(Ana brushed a loose hair out of her face as she patted the title upon her shoulder.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: Dreaming about a place in the final is all well and good, and I’m sure each and everyone in this tournament have had at least a fleeting thought about it. And why wouldn’t they? It is what they have entered this tournament for. But in regards to preparation, I’m not the kind of Bird to give it all away. But I can tell you this, I take each and every opponent as serious as if they are a finalist. In this tournament, it’s not like a first round, second round feeling, if I’m honest. Each match is like a little final in itself, and each person who stands across from ring from me for all intents and purposes may as well be looked at as the very best in the world, because I will take them as such and treat them as such then beat them as such.

(Her eyes cut across the room to see her opponent sat there listening, nodding his head at her words..)


ANASTASIA STARLING: But what I can say is that I have made some minor changes with my diet, which is strict enough as it is, as well as changes to my training routine that should and will help me with these stipulations. I am feeling physically stronger, and while I have never had any doubt about my stamina, I feel my levels have increased dramatically due to these changes. You may well be surprised what I have in store.

(As Lark sat down, a gentleman in a tweed suit stood, speaking in a smooth and peaceful Southern Irish accent.)

JAMES CORR: James Corr here from Irish Fighting Spirit! You have just mentioned your changes in preparation, and while you did compete in Iron King last year, the stipulations of this tournament are very different from anything you are both known for, and the skill set you have wouldn’t normally apply that well. You won the title you hold now due to your fast paced, aerial assaults. With this match, those particular skills are of no use to you. How do you plan on preparing when your best weapons are unavailable.

ANASTASIA STARLING: Did you see how I won my last match?!

(The reporter nodded, making some notes as she spoke.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: My Mama was one of the very first French MMA stars manny years ago, and she transitioned her style into the professional wrestling world. She was the main one who trained me, you see, and those skills she was so famed for, those MMA, Muay Thai, Savate and Judo skills that she was constantly praised for, she has passed down to me. Now, I may not use them as often as I could match to match, but in the Iron King tournament they are truly priceless. And I have worked tirelessly, with no outside interests involved. I’ve even been away from my friends and my girlfriend in preparation for this. That is how serious I am about facing Rowyn, and not only giving him my best, but giving him an exit to the Iron King Tournament. I’m going to be giving him everything and more. Which is exactly what he wanted.

(A speckled man in a mustard colour suit stood next, raising his hand to speak to Anastasia..)

HERB SUMMERS: Continuing on from this, Rowyn made it clear as soon as he entered Phoenix once more that he wished to face you. The pair of you recently had a brief interaction on Social Media, and you told him that he had made his first mistake. Care to tell us what that was about?

(Starling looked over to Starr once more, giving him a polite little nod, but with the slightest smirk upon her face.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: You have no idea what you are exactly facing. While I respect what you have done, I admire what you you are capable of, and I tip my bonny little hat to you for earning this match... you have just made your first mistake. You'll realise what soon enough...

(She turned away from Starr, but to the audience of reporters in the room after repeating word for word what she said on Twitter.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: It means exactly what it means, and I have gone over some of this already. I’ve studied up on Rowyn, as I do for each and every opponent I have faced in the past. There is no such thing as easy matches, and I will be treating this as if the title itself was on the line. As if everything was on the line. Because they is sooooo much already on the line. I think it is time for a Queen to sit the throne, and one that does things the right and fair way, with their skills bell to bell and not through campaigning and twisting the rules.

(She tilted her head once more.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: As for that mistake, Rowyn… You have no idea what you are facing, and what I have been doing to ensure that I am not only ready for you, but ready to eliminate you. You are known for that fighting spirit of yours, but the fire that burns inside of me is ready to engulf that spirit of yours in napalm death from above. I admire you, I respect you, and thank you for respecting me… But now I am going to physically and mentally hurt you and I am not sorry about that at all. No apologies, no regrets, I am going through to the next round because I am the fucking champion and THAT is EXACTLY what I do!

(There truly was fire in her words, and the inferno grew in her eyes. There seemed to be a meanness to her words, a tone seldom heard from the popular Songbird, and she seemed to snarl as she finished that particular line. Her eyes cast across the room at the faceless masses, her face twitching ever so slightly as if she had seen or heard something.)

ANASTASIA STARLING: Who booed just then?

(The reporters looked about themselves, none of them believing they heard anything of the sort as they looked about themselves, questioning those around them in case they had heard something that they hadn’t..)

ANASTASIA STARLING: Stop that… Please, have some respect for this contest! What have I done… we done to deserve this?

(In her mind’s eye, it was as if the great faceless masses had emerald green snakes coiling around them, and the walls began to melt due to the burning hot temperature of her eyes and her anger, her confusion and despair, the floor becoming lava and engulfing them all as their bodies turned charcoal black and cracked. There was another scream, as vultures flew overhead to prey on their freshly cooked meal and burning flesh and brittle bone, as whips cracked and talons sunk into their desperate throats as they let out…

She shook her head, blinking three times as all seemed to return to normal as she breathed in heavily, leaning forward over the table. It wasn’t quite clear to her how much time had passed, but a number of stars stood around her, checking that she was okay after the most unusual of outbursts. Sweat dripped from her head and her hand quivered, her throat grew dry and she tried to push herself up, but her legs were jelly..)

VOICE: Ladies, Gentlemen and Members of the Jury...

(There was a stunned gasp as another figure appeared on the stage, dressed in black on black and one of his arms in a sling. He placed his arm around the clearly shaken Starling, guiding the pale acrobat to the other side of the stage, as he gazed into the crowd with the exact same greens and blues that she had.)

BOBBY B. BARABBAS: My name is Bobby B. Barabbas. And while I am the father to the reigning and most beloved Rebirth Champion in memory, I am also her business representative. Whilst I thank you for your questions and the opportunity for my daughter to speak her mind before her titanic clash with Rowyn Starr, which should truly be the real main event of the evening, Anastasia simply must rest and prepare for the upcoming battles, so will not be accepting any further questions.

(Bobby turned to Rowyn, giving him an extremely disapproving look, then giving James Edwards a little smirk, before he took his shaking daughter away, along with her championship, as the reporters made hurried notes, and those onstage looked on with obvious concern..)

[laflare]

Lance Winters tilts back in his chair sipping his beer as he stares down the table at the odd looking man from Caged Glory FC that he was set to fight. A former champion in the octagon but a current champion in the squared circle. A man of multi dimensions. Interesting.  

REPORTER ONE 

Uh...Lance?  

The PW Rising Phoenix Champion holds up a finger as he lays his chair down and leans forward to the microphone still looking down at Ernest Cauldwell.  

LANCE WINTERS 

You’re a funny LOOKING SUMBITCH ain’t ya? Tell me THE TRUTH. Which is one the RAT. YA DADDY. Or ya MADRE? C’mon man don’t HOLD BACK ON ME. I have to KNOW.  

Winters tilts his head.  

LANCE WINTERS 

Like, is YOUR DAD THE rat guy from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? TELL MEEEEEEE!!!!! 

Lance chugs the rest of his beer and whistles like he’s calling the barkeep. Sure enough a crew member came running over with a cold beer for The Prez. He cracks open the beer and waves Ernest off.  

LANCE WINTERS 

Ahhhh, you’ll TELL ME when your NICE AND COMFY. I get it. Not something easy to talk about.  

Winters takes a swig and looks back to the reporter.  

LANCE WINTERS 

Alright c’mon. ASK AWAY YOU SCOUNDRELS.  

REPORTER ONE 

Alright well...I don’t think anybody ever thought this matchup would come about in this tournament. Ernest Cauldwell is one of the toughest sonofaguns in both professional wreslting and mixed martial arts. I guess it’s pretty poetic th-- 

LANCE WINTERS 

Get to the goddamn question or I’m gonna come down there and stick this bottle up you f**king ass.  

The reporter nods cautiously.  

REPORTER ONE 

What are your thoughts on fighting a former CGFC Dragon Champion and a submission expert such as Ernest Cauldwell?  

Lance sighs in relief.  

LANCE WINTERS 

Finally! A QUESTION I CAN ANSWER. Well...I don’t think much about it. Like I said last time I don’t give flying f**k who I have face just gimme somebody to fight. Besides… 

Lance looks back down to Ernest.  

LANCE WINTERS 

I fought SOMEBODY JUST LIKE him. Just cuter. Shane Atwater for the HKW World Championship. YEAH MAN THOSE WERE GOOD OL TIMES. But this guy here...HE MIGHT be a little different. Looks like he might be a little bit more reckless.  

He smirks as he says this looking down at Cauldwell.  

REPORTER TWO 

Did you see that they were having a Six Man Elimination Match for a shot at your title? What’s your thoughts on that and who within those six would you want to face the most? 

Winters shrugs his shoulders.  

LANCE WINTERS 

Who cares? Whoever wins IS JUST GOING to lose under THE ALMIGHTY TEN minutes. Look these PEOPLE should know what it takes to beat me by now. OR EVEN BETTER these people should know what it even takes to be a CHAMPION here in Phoenix Wrestling. You’re gonna have to dig deep and show how much you truly want it. And do whatever it may take TO EVEN get it.  

He leans back. 

LANCE WINTERS  

Do these PRICKS have it in them? Who knows? But...Just the thought of all of them fighting over little ol me sure does get the blood flow going down there, you know? Gots me hard just thinking about it.  

Another reporter stands.  

REPORTER THREE 

You’re in the second round of the tournament, Lance an-- 

LANCE WINTERS  

That’s Prez to you, bitch. 

REPORTER THREE 

Er um...Prez. The competition is getting fiercer. Do you think you’ll be able to beat Cauldwell and move on to the next round?  

He chuckles as he drinks.  

LANCE WINTERS 

Does a duck fart? 

REPORTER FOUR 

Huh? 

LANCE WINTERS 

The answer is MAYBE, dipshit. Nobody actually knows. Just like I DON’T EVEN KNOW if I’ll beat Cauldwell. But I’M SURE GONNA try my damndest to do so UNDER TEN MINUTES. Like I said earlier I faced a guy like THIS before. I really wanna SEE JUST HOW FAR this rat looking F**K is willing to go. How bad does he want to become a champion here in PW, huh? I can’t WAIT TO SEE. I’m A LITTLE curious on what challenge he can bring.  

[Cupcake]

SHERRY DIAMOND: Pfffft lookit some of you. Acting like this is all hot up n here come on now. Ain’t like this is no sweat lodge or vision quest neither. Anyhoo.

Sherry takes a deep breath, well aware of the various fighters and wrestlers in the room, some of whom she knew better than others. Carrick Price and Jason Jackson both would get a nod, as would Ernest Cauldwell who she’d fought in the past personally. BAD ASS of course was wrapped up in his own little world. She gave the Evil Eye to Rex Evans, a long time foe from her past as a pro wrestler but there was no true malice behind it. Sure, she poked at him on Twitter from time to time, but he wasn’t one that she actually had despised. It was more the principle of the the thing. That deep breath she let out on a battle cry… of sorts.

SHERRY DIAMOND: SANDY MAKEL YA SON OF A BITCH.

The room went almost silent for a second, and she knew, knew Makel had attention on her no matter what he was so absorbed in at the moment. Sherry waves off her usual trio of intrepid reporters, Benjamin Chudnofsky, Lidia Valcallan and Gatland Tobias as she stands up and puts her hands on her jean clad hips. Jeans, a tight white ‘hook ‘em horns’ t-shirt, dusty biker boots, and a fucking beanie she knew would annoy the piss out of Rex because it bore his own BRUTALapparel tag on the front of it were what she put on and seemed so comfortable in tonight. She pointed to Sandy and laughed, that bright and brassy way too loud laugh of hers before her mirth faded and her expression grew a bit more serious.

SHERRY DIAMOND: You know, that mother fucker over there I swear to Christ. Annoying ass, he once upon a damn time rolled up in a company I’d been in. Dancing around the title I held there and I remember… oh I remember somethin I said to him way back then about how I felt about dogs coming to piss in my yard and that y’know, he might ought to watch his damn self a bit.

She snickered and continued, gesturing grandly.

SHERRY DIAMOND: I said...well, Tweeted I guess… that Sandy Makel is just the type of narcissistic son of a bitch to film himself jerking off in a mirror just to replay it to jerk off to later.

She pauses as the expected wave of laughter came, some nervous, some genuine. The tone of the times was different then to now and yet Sherry didn’t seem to care that part of her words might get edited out on release.

SHERRY DIAMOND: It’s been, a good long while since that. To now, y’know. Thing is, shit has changed for me in a lot of fuckin’ ways that I’d never have really thought they might. But you roll with the punches that life throws at you or you drown like a fucking weakling and that’s the facts. See, I ain’t the only MMA fighter in this thing that started out as a rassler...

She put an inordinately large amount of sass on the word, and snorted a laugh before she shook her head.

SHERRY DIAMOND: Some of y’all foolish as fuck with how you talk about it, but that’s aight. Do you. Don’t change me for a bit, end of the day. Facts are facts. Used to I wanted to get my hands on that smug son of a bitch. Knock his dick in the dirt too while I was at it and the hell of it is, and I think this fucker knows it, I coulda. Now, we gonna get to see. He ain’t the same, as he was back then. And no, I don’t mean ha ha he’s older than King Tut’s Daddy or some shit. Guy like Sandy Makel, he don’t get less dangerous just because he added a few years on his mileage. Unpredictable mother sucker. But then, that’s why I think this gon’ be fun.

Sherry moves to pull up the top of a Yeti cooler, lifting out an ice cold bottle of beer that she deftly twists the cap off of, taking a long pull before wiping her lips off on the back of her wrist.

SHERRY DIAMOND: Ain’t a whole shit load of things that I got that I want to do, left. One thing I know I ain’t ever gonna get so you know, I ain’t eat up with it. Let petty have petty shit, I don’t gotta care no more. I got another defense of my Imperial Championship, lookin’ forward to that sure. Got me a finite number, but the only one that’s got a name on my dance card for that slot, that don’t change. Just ain’t quite time yet, but it’s comin’.

She took another long pull of her beer and stepped back, shaking her head just a bit as that shark-like mercenary grin of hers surfaced.

SHERRY DIAMOND: So it’s nice, real damn nice, that I get me a shot to get my hands on one of them things on my list. Ain’t worried about how the rules may or not be in either of our favors neither. Gonna get out there and fight, and promise you, it’s gonna be worth a rewatch after it’s done.

Sherry turned away then and finished her beer, belching in far from delicate fashion before she retrieved another one and went to lounge back in her chair, feet up on the table.

[ernie]

iron king tournament / pankration rules

The Iron King conference proceedings were in full swing and boasting even more attendees than the first round; bodies packed in shoulder to shoulder, anxiously awaiting word from some of the most talented wrestlers and mixed martial artists from around the globe. The tiny, almost always emaciated looking, Ernest Cauldwell is seated between Rowyn Starr and "Chevy" Blythe wearing a black and white "Dusk In Us" Converge band tank top and repping an embroidered SSV (Silver Surfer Vaporizer) beanie from one of his sponsors out of Colorado Springs, 7th Floor Vapes. With his head lowered, the BJJ black belt thumbs through his phone with one hand, while pushing his hat further up his forehead to wipe the sweat from his brow with the other.

Ernie smiles wide, listening intently as Winters entertained the room with his signature hijinks. After that, Sherry goes live, someone he really enjoyed. Raising a proud fist to her unabashed belch before a member of the press side steps her way through the conflux and prepares a question.

PRESS PASS: The victory you secured over Fin at Redemption 126 was remarkable! Not only was it the quickest finish of the night, you were able to showcase an extremely technical submission, and on an evening dedicated to all things grappling, it proved to be quite the highlight! Granted, Fin is nowhere near as accomplished in that particular discipline, how psyched were you to get in and get out, untouched and with such finesse?

Taking his time, Ernie tosses his phone down onto the table and sighs deeply, sinking into his chair.

CAULDWELL: I told you I was gonna try some crazy shit. Thanks. Considering the fight I had ahead of me, I really didn't wanna spend any more time fuckin' around than I had to, so I just went for it. The Asylum Choke isn't a submission the typical MMA or grappling fan is gonna be all too familiar with, and it's a collar choke, so very rarely do you see it done without the gi. Couple of tweaks were made, but I think the variation turned out pretty gnarly. I was jacked up about it, for sure.

One of the journalists attempts to get Ernie's attention, he nods and a voice chimes out.

PRESS PASS: If we could, just for a moment, talk about what transpired in your following fight. You came up short against Caged Glory FC Glory Champion, Niko Holst at Emergence by knockout in the opening round less than two weeks ago, the first of your career; how difficult has it been to maintain focus on Lance Winters while still coming to terms with the recent big loss?

Smirking and rolling his eyes Ernie pauses, intentionally creating an awkward silence before issuing a softly spoken response..

CAULDWELL: Yeaaahh, let's talk about that.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, he quietly reflects on the last CGFC show.

CAULDWELL: Second title loss in a row. Frustrating. And pushing through the constant struggle of forward thought has been a little more rough this go 'round. It's a fight I know I could've won, but for whatever reason I wasn't myself, I got overzealous, and I fuckin' paid for it. I'm good on all that right now, though. To your question; first knockout or tenth, it's a piss in the pool to me. My brain has been rattled around like dice in a Yahtzee cup many times throughout the years, it don't mean shit. I know what you're implying, though. I ain't shook. You and all the other doubters, fuckin' naysayers will be shut down on the 7th. Y'all can come to terms with that when the time comes, how bout that? How's that sound?

The reporter's face grows red as he nervously scans the room.

PRESS PASS: Uhh, duly noted, and moving on! Your opponent for the Iron King Pancrase round is no ordinary opponent; Lance Winters is as crafty as they come and just so happens to be the current holder of Phoenix Wrestling's prestigious Rising Phoenix Championship. How do you feel the two of you match up stylistically? And what strategy do you feel will be most effective?

Ernie nods and clears his throat.

CAULDWELL: Right, yeah, I'm aware. Winters has been around for a while now, he's a vet. I know him most from his work in Hard Knox, which is another company I've always had a ton of respect for. From a professional wrestling standpoint, there are some similarities. We both like to annoy and toy and a lot of times tend to lean on a mental edge. He claimed the Rising Phoenix strap by playing it smart with his Cash-In, which I can respect, cause it's the exact same way I dethroned that fuckin' bum Avery Miles in GOL like, a year and a half ago. Believe me, I get it. But with the Pancrase stipulation, it's hard to say, you know? I'm sure he's gonna come out strong and aggressive and try to overwhelm me. Yo, I may be half his size, but pressure is my game too, so, we're gonna match wits all night and see who walks down who. He's gonna be the Suzuki to my Rutten whether he likes it or not, he's got no choice. I got some pent up shit of my own left over from Emergence. And Lance. Amigo..

With his head tilted, Ernie holds his hands up in the air and shrugs, locking eyes with Winters.

CAULDWELL: Unfortunately, you're gonna hafta bare the brunt of it.

PRESS PASS: A question many of the combatants are getting thrown at them is in regards to their familiarity with the Pancrase rule set, so I felt it only fitting that it made its way around to you!

CAULDWELL: You kidding me? I'm a combat sports junkie. Straight up. I know the drill, I'm stoked for it.

PRESS PASS: If you are in fact successful in defeating Lance Winters, is there anyone in particular you'd like to see for the Pride Rules portion of the Iron King Tournament?

CAULDWELL: As far as I'm concerned, everyone up here's got mad talent. And quite a few I wouldn't mind takin' a crack at. All depends on how this next round goes, but for Pride Rules? Anyone from Caged Glory I haven't been in there with I'd be game for. Masaru. Although, to be honest, I think most fans wanna see that one under different circumstances, with our counterparts in the mix, right? Yeah, I think so. Anyone really, though, I've never been picky about shit like that. Like I said, from this show on, pretty much looks like they're all savages. And I gotta feeling the best has yet to come.

And with that, Ernie pushes the mic forward.

[carrickprice]

While the rest of the world might have been paying attention to whatever it was that everyone else was saying, Carrick Price was not. Instead his feet were kicked up on the table in front of him as he leaned back, teetering on the back two legs of the chair he was sitting in. Gently his head bobbed to the music that was pulsating in the beats earbuds that that were placed in his ears. Every now and then the Irishman would glance around lazily, shake his head, and go back to looking at his phone. The process seemed to repeat itself as more and more competitors answered questions from the media members until finally, Carrick yawned and didn't bother to try and stifle it.

Smirking, he glanced around before plucking the earbuds free. Silence. 

Carrick Price: "Shite... that didn't interrupt anyone, did it?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Carrick examined the faces of everyone who was there with a playful smile.

Carrick Price: "And was that fuckin' Jason Cashe that was here earlier? Lads uglier in person than I expected him to be. Fucks sake."

Looking further to spot Rex Evans, Carrick offered him a sarcastic wave and then blew him a kiss.

Carrick Price: "Hey Rexy. Anyone you thinkin' about bulldozing this round? Or is it still just me ya have a crush on?"

Finally dropping his feet down off the table, Carrick leaned forward and placed his elbows where his feet had been just moments earlier.

Carrick Price: "Where the fuck is the mouth breather they've got me facing this round, hm? Fat Ass Blythe or whatever the fuck his name is. Christ."

Reporter: "Carrick, are you taking this round of the Iron King tournament any more seriously than the last?"

A loud HA! erupted from the young CGFC fighter before he realized that the reporter was actually being serious. It was a fact that seemed to throw him off, even if it was for just a moment, before he could collect himself.

Carrick Price: "Did... did you say MORE seriously? Listen. Say what ya want about Rex down there and the judging. I don't give a shite. Someone always makes excuses about split decisions. Usually washed up lads who can't accept the fact that the world has passed them by. HELLO P3 NOT TALKING ABOUT YOUR GERIATRIC ASS THIS TIME! But to answer your question. No. I'm not.

Reporter: "Really?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, Carrick looked at the reporter quizzically.

Carrick Price: "Did I fuckin stutter, lad? I mean shite sometimes when I've got a few too many in me I do. But I haven't touched a drop of the pisswater you lot drink in this shit hole. No. I'm not taking this shite any more seriously. I've gone from fighting Rex whatshisfuck in the first round of this shite. To fighting a lass that had never had a professional fight before in her life at Emergence in Caged Glory. Only to turn round and be tasked with fighting a fat cunt that couldn't jog fifty meters if his life depended on it. And do ya know who I fight in Caged Glory at Dragons Rage in the first round. Some cunt named Nick Chronos. You know what this shite reminds me of?"

He slapped his hand off the table for emphasis.

Carrick Price: "It's like the progression of one of those shite video games that Bad Ass probably plays. No offense, B-A. But i've seen that shite. They start ya out fighting some old fuck who's washed and doesn't know it yet. Then you find someone who doesn't realize how over their head they are. Then they put ya against a lad whose strong suit is crushing beer cans and picking his nose at the same time. Probably eating it too. That's who this fuck is. Chevy Blythe or whatever."

Reporter: "So you at least know his name?"

Carrick Price: "Of fuckin course I know his name. Who the fuck do you think I am? Ash Scion? Is it the red hair? Piss off if the answer to that question is yes. Just because I don't respect this bitch doesn't mean I don't know his name. Just because I'm not taking round two of this shite seriously doesn't mean I'm unprepared. Maybe that's what the wrestling world is used to.  I don't know. I mean, Christ sake we got James Edwards, Masaru, Sandy and this Lance Winters lad ON TOP OF Chevy not having a damn clue what they're getting themselves into. Honestly. It's nothing against them but this shite is set up for one of us to win. Not them. And this is just another round of this shite that will prove it."

Never having been someone who cared all that much what other people thought about him, or said about his "bedside" manner, Carrick was as unfiltered as he ever was.

Reporter: "Nothing about his size gives you any pause at all? I mean, he could end it all with the flick of his wrist if he felt like it."

Carrick Price: "End it all? Christ, lad, that's a bit morbid don't you think? Listen carefully, yeah? i'm only going to break this shite down for you one time. One. You hear me? I've fought bigger, better, and more prepared fighters than this lad. I've fought a lad in Aries Reed who hits like a fucking train. I've fought Timothy Wright who, I'm certain, was at least the side of that big fucker in the Bible that got hit in the head with that rock. Whatever the hell his name was. My point? He's big? I've fought bigger. He's strong? I've fought stronger. I've fought more skilled fighters. And I've beaten them with ease. Why would I expect any different going into this round? We're not talking about a lad who has spent his life devoted to honing his craft. He's a dime a dozen cunt that says he likes to fight but really doesn't know shite about what that means." 

Before the reporters could ask further questions, Carrick held up his hand and cut them off.

Carrick Price: "Nah, I'm tired of your questions. So here's how this shite is going to go from here on out. You sit. You listen. I talk until I say you can move on to someone else. Maybe round three of this shite will bring me something more interesting than round one or round two. But you can bet every penny in your bank account that I'm going to be there, for sure. And at the end of the night next round, the result will be the same as it was in the first round. And the same as it's going to be when Chevy walks his knuckle dragging self into the fight with me. There's not going to be any split decisions. None of that shite. I'm going to finish this lad faster than I make my girl finish, if ya get me drift."

Smirking, Carrick dismissively waved at them.

Carrick Price: "That's all I've got for ya. Now fuck off."

Just as they were about to ask another question, Carrick held his hand up, remembering he had one more thing to say.

Carrick Price: "Oh yeah.... and fuck Carter Shields. Now you can go on."

Plugging his ear buds back into his ears, Carrick closed his eyes and zoned the rest of the nonsense going on around him out once more.

[Zola Star]

After the next person goes Zola finally sits up closer to her mic. She had thought about all the things that Connor had to say and found it hard to think of a response, but now she was ready for questions. A fan shouts “We Love You Zola,” and she smiles.

ZOLA STAR: I love you too!

A young female reporter stood up and looked down at her pad.

REPORTER 1: Hello Zola, I’m from Diva-Dirt.com and I just had a few questions regarding your match in this next round.

Zola smiles at her and nods her head willing to answer the reporter’s questions.

ZOLA STAR: Hey girl, sure what is it that you’d like to know?

The reporter cleared her throat and looks at Zola.

REPORTER 1: As you heard your opponent say, he’s much more experienced than you in the ring and he’s very particular. How do you prepare for someone as calculated as your opponent?

Zola thought to herself a moment internalizing the question before answering.

ZOLA STAR: I feel like being calculated and analytical can be a weakness on my opponent’s part because he is expecting this match to go the way that he wants it to. While it is always good to plan ahead, I have learned to never have high expectations in life because it will always end in disappointment. For example, if my opponent were to expect me to make a move based off of my prior matches, that would be a huge mistake!

Zola brushes her fingers through her coffee brown hair and quickly flips her bangs. Her chest rises and falls as she contemplates what she’ll say next.

ZOLA STAR: Well actually, I like my opponent but the difference between us is that I actually don’t come into my match with a plan, he does.. You see, he’ll be disappointed if his plan didn’t work out and like, he’ll hate me because of it. The more annoyance he has for me, the more power I will have in actually winning my match. My opponent, who was known as the analyzing genius, will now be too distracted to analyze my movements anymore.

The reporter nods her head as she writes things down onto her notepad taking down Zola’s responses. She then pops her head back up to ask a follow up question.

REPORTER 1: And do you think Connor’s injury will make your match easier to win?

ZOLA STAR: Yes, I do think my opponent’s injury will make my match easier to win because I will acknowledge his weakness like he has done in his past matches. I will fight fire with fire and my opponent will get burned.

The first reporter sits down and a new one stands up, this one a young man with slicked back hair. He smiles at Zola Star and poses his question.

REPORTER 2: Zola, Bleacher Report news here. You are recently coming off not only a win in the first round of this tournament, but you also made your debut at SSWA winning your first wrestling match! Are you confident going into the rest of this tournament?

ZOLA STAR: Like, why wouldn’t I be confident? I’m Zola Star and I have been trained by people who trained against Conner and with him. I’ve actually gotten advice from my trainers on how to approach him, you see he’s not the only one that does his research.

The reporter nods his head before asking Zola another question.

REPORTER 2: Do you have any final thoughts on your match, anything you want to say to your fans?

Zola laughs to herself a moment flashing the reporter her signature smile. She unhooks the mic from its holder and stands to her feet.

ZOLA STAR: Yes of course, to all of my stars out there, remember to always kick ass and look good doing it. My last match was a challenge to win, but no one ever said this tournament would be easy.

She looks over at her opponent and shakes her head keeping her smile.

ZOLA STAR: To Connor, you are a great competitor and I’m honored to be in the ring with you. However...I came in this tournament to WIN. I’m not backing down in our match. I’m going to give you everything I’ve got and then some more. I’m in the best shape of my career and this tournament is my chance to prove that I’m on the rise. I’m going to show you what a STAR looks like sweetie, and everyone will see some STAR QUALITY.

Zola drops her mic on the table and runs her hands through her hair posing for some pictures from the press. After a few moments she returns to her seat and puts back on her sunglasses.