Post by neelan on Mar 16, 2022 5:38:36 GMT
It's been an interesting few days in World League Championship Wrestling. Fresh off what's (unfortunately) become a rare thing for him (a win), Prince Devitt, instead of finding himself back in title contention, or really any form of relevancy (in his own mind, at least), has been throw into an even less desirable situation than he was in facing Damian Priest.
Facing Damian Priest again…AND Matt Cardona…and another WLCW signee, Atticus Cogar. And not on his own terms, either, as instead of having any input whatsoever on his partners, he's forced to find a way to cooperate with his other most recent rival, CM Punk, and complete X factor Eddie Kingston. In another world, you could've called this a dream team. Here in the real world, it was more like a nightmare that Devitt couldn't wake up from.
Add in the fact that it seemed to none of the old friends Devitt had spent the last month or so contacting had any desire or ability to help in his current situation, well, it could lead even a man like the Real Rock 'n' Rolla to drink. But as luck would have it, he wasn't the only one trying to kill a few brain cells in the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. In fact, he just happened to run into a "Good Brother" from the olden days…which is how he found himself three sheets to the wind, practically begging his old "running buddy", one Karl "Machine Gun" Anderson, for help.
MACHINE GUN: Ferg, I'd love to help you, but I can't. You know that, and you know why.
Devitt is practically on his knees, hanging onto the bar, but Anderson isn't showing any signs of wavering.
PRINCE DEVITT: C'mon, man, I'm fookin' desperate here. They've got me teamin' with CM Punk and Eddie Kingston this week. Do I look like I should be carryin' around dead weight like that? With these fookin' abs?
Devitt gestures to his stomach, and Anderson can't help but smirk.
MMACHINE GUN: You ARE lookin' real jacked, buddy. Best abs in the biz, but that's not the point. I said I can't help. And it hurts me to keep sayin' it, but I'll say it as much as I have to. Things are goin' down over on the other side of the world. If my family wasn't here in the States, we wouldn't even be talkin' right now.
Devitt snorts in derision at the reference to whatever's going on. First Fale couldn't help, and now Anderson is refusing. So much for "for life"...
PRINCE DEVITT: Yeah, well, shite's goin' down here, too, I'm up to my eyeballs in assholes around here, with one special wannabe frat boy that can't stop usin' my own tricks against me.
MACHINE GUN: I'm guessin' you mean Matt Cardona.
Devitt slams his hand down on the bar. It catches "Machine Gun's" attention, but isn't loud enough to draw anyone else.
PRINCE DEVITT: Of course I mean Matt Cardona. Fookin' joke of a human being, he is. Used to spend all day backstage jabberin' non-stop about his YouTube show and his fookin' dolls or whatever. Now he thinks he's some kind of wrestlin' God because he figured out how to cheat to get ahead, like you and me and the rest of the gang weren't pioneering that before he'd even made it on TV somewhere.
MACHINE GUN: So just kick his ass. I mean, you know what's comin' when you face him, right? You're better than him, so just work him in the ring. If his woman can't keep her hands to herself, then work her over, too.
PRINCE DEVITT: If only it were that simple, man. And now it's a fookin' six-man tag, and he's workin' alongside some doofus that's apparently allergic to money and the human embodiment of the herpes virus. And I have to rely on a MMA washout and the biggest cliche of a New Yorker to ever walk the face of the Earth to back me up.
It's clear that Devitt doesn't have much respect for his teammates, though one has to wonder if he'd feel the same when he's sober.
MACHINE GUN: Look, Ferg. you got your work cut out for you. You know it, I know it, the world knows it. The way I see it, with me 'n' the gang tied up with our business, you got two choices. You can either pull on the big boy pants and do it yourself like the motha-fuckin' rock star you are, or you can put together a new gang of your own over here. Right now? I'd say make the best of the team you're stuck with.
Devitt reaches out and pats Anders on the shoulder. Karl just shakes his head and smirks.
PRINCE DEVITT: You're right, Gun. You're fookin' right. And why the Hell are we talkin' shop, anyway? We got one night in this place before you fly back to Japan and I have to carry a tag team. Let's go see what passes for Pacific Northwest nightlife.
Devitt climbs to his feet, barely, almost hitting the ground before Anderson catches him.
MACHINE GUN: Bro, I think the only nightlife you need is in your hotel room. I'll help you there.
The two men proceed to amble out of the lounge, Anderson somehow carrying both his bags, Devitt's bags, and Devitt himself. Hopefully, after tearing one off a little bit too hard tonight, Devitt can get it together for tomorrow and the team of Cardona, Priest, and Cogar...
OOC: Apologizing now, this was thrown together last-minute after one heck of a busy week, so it's probably crap. But at least I didn't pull a me and just no-show...