Post by Dave on Nov 19, 2018 13:45:45 GMT
ON CAMERA
The scene opens in Los Angeles, California, as we find ourselves just outside of a building that appears to be a doctor's office. After a few seconds of the camera closing in on the building, its door opens and out walks Adam Stryker, clad in cozy sneakers, jeans and a denim jacket over an Alice in Chains t-shirt. He has a sports bag over his shoulder. Adam looks at the camera and gives it a brief smirk.
"Do you know where we are right now?" he asks. "This place right behind me is the office of a dear family friend, doctor John Morrow. I guess many of you haven't even heard of him up until now, but trust me, I know his office like the back of my hand. And unfortunately, it's not because I stop for a cup of coffee and a nice chat every now and then."
Adam slowly walks towards his car, a red Kia Cadenza parked just a few steps away.
"I was here at least once every week for the past three years. Trying to get my body together after putting it through a world of pain every week as a professional wrestler. Trying to make my damned right knee to work like it should for a man of my age. And asking John the same questions every time: Am I ready? Can I go back to the ring?"
He puts his bag in the trunk of the car. "I heard a resounding 'no' every time. A year ago, when my dear friend John Pariah passed away, I acted on impulse and tried to get back into the ring despite my doctor telling me not to. I was trying to honor Pariah's legacy, but in doing so, I almost damaged my own. I wasn't healthy, I was a shadow of myself, and I found out the hard way it was not the right time to come back," he says with a concerned face as he leans on the back of the car and looks directly at the camera.
"I set my recovery back a few weeks, maybe months. But I never gave up. While taking care of our three kids along with my wife and working as a manager in a PR agency here in LA, I still did my best every day to get to my one hundred percent shape again. To really be ready for a full time comeback between the ropes."
He walks to the door on the driver's side and opens it. "And after months and months of waiting... Here we finally are," he says as he gets into the car.
The camera man lets us see Adam leaving the driveway of John Morrow's office and driving away. We then cut to a scene that people who know Stryker are very familiar with, that being the Stryke Dojo in Los Angeles. Adam's car parks in the spot reserved for him, right outside of the main entrance. We follow The SoCal Switchblade as he picks up his sports back from the trunk of his car and enters the wrestling school he owns. After saying hi to several youngsters and their mentor, head trainer of the LA dojo Alistair Mangold, Adam enters his office. He drops the sports bag on the floor, hangs his denim jacket on a hanger on the wall and sits on the chair behind his desk, finally facing the camera once again.
"Maybe, just maybe it's not my brightest idea ever to make my comeback in a bout that's essentially a deathmatch, for a promotion so batshit crazy genuinely everything can happen there. I mean, when Frank Wiland was there, his face nearly exploded... in a match he won. But hey, that's just who I am, I like to test myself, throw myself straight in the deep end if you will. I could be going from one small time show to another, beating up punks that have been doing this for a fortnight and calling myself a champion for that. But I am not like that. I want the biggest challenge I can get.
That's why I picked the ever growing Empire Wrestling as my new home promotion in the US. That's why I picked a fast rising company Renegade Wrestling to be my home away from home in the UK, so I could be with them from the start. And that's why I wanted to come back to Guerreros of Lucha."
He folds arms across his chest.
"At the event wonderfully titled 'Shake Your Tits It's GOL', me and Joseph White will take part in the first round match of the Super Awesomo Epico Tournament, namely in a Cobweb Escape Match. Now, the whole point of the contest is in the name, really, to win you gotta escape, ideally with as little damage done to your body as possible. The thing is... I don't really feel like going anywhere in a hurry."
Adam smiles as he leans back in his chair.
"The nice people who paid for the ticket want to see Adam Stryker, in his hundred percent best shape again after three years, put on a show. They want to see me Suplex the life out of Joseph White, cut him in half with The Stryke and then put him to sleep when I stomp on his head when I got full control of him, having him locked in the Stretch Muffler. And THEN," he raises a finger for a second as an exclamation point, "and ONLY THEN will I climb out of the Cobweb and into the next round.
See, Joseph, from what I saw of you on our common shows back in KAMIKAZE, you are a brilliant wrestler. One of the best and brightest of an up-and-coming generation that's bursting out from the UK. You got the looks, the in-ring prowess... But you have one big problem, my friend. You ain't quite Adam Fuckin' Stryker."
The SoCal Switchblade leans forward again and puts his hands on the desk.
"I am not really an escape artist, Joe, but I truly am a god damn pro-wrestling artist. When I'm at my best, there's nobody that can square up to me. And unlucky for you, you don't only find me at my best, but also at my hungriest. After so much time away from active competition, after so much pain, medication, rehabilitation... I got just one thing in mind and that's demolishing everyone on my way to that trophy and ultimately to the Rey de Reyes Championship. To make it absolutely clear..."
He stands up a gives the camera a stare.
"Adam Stryker has suffered enough. Now... it's everybody else's turn."
The scene fades to black.
OFF CAMERA - Several hours later
"Come on, big man. It's been fucking hours. You gotta come out sometime..."
A black GMC Terrain is parked just a few spots away from the entrance of the Stryke Dojo. The man uttering these words is sitting behind the wheel, dressed in all black, his long hair tied in a manbun. He's got the window open, and is smoking a cigarette, still keeping his eyes on the main door of Adam Stryker's wrestling school.
"What if he just stays here the whole day? I mean, he's gotta get in mad shape before--"
"Bullshit," the driver barks, cutting off a a flow of thoughts man sitting right behind him, a Mexican youngster in jean shorts and a black tanktop. "I've known Adam for years. I was running errands for his dad and big Dave Parker back when he was having his first matches for LAWA. Dude's obsessed with all he does in the ring, but at the end of the day, he's a fucking hopeless romantic. Loves to beat a fucker up, but has to get home in time to spend time with his girl," the driver says, taking another drag. "Now that he's got three kids and all, I reckon he'd wanna get home even sooner."
"Okay, LT," the man in the backseat says humbly. "But I really think stalking him like this is just gonna scare him off from the whole thing, you know? I mean, we could have sent him an e-mail or something," he adds. The driver sighs.
"One more fuckin' time, Ramón," he says. "I've known Adam for a long fuckin' time. With shit like this, you can't just politely ask him, send him a text and shit. You gotta confront him. Push his buttons." The door of the Dojo opens and Stryker finally walks out.
"Let's go," the driver orders, throwing his cigarette on the ground. He and Ramón get out of the car and quickly approach Adam, who has his back turned to them as he's putting his bag in the trunk of his car.
"Strykes. Long time no see," the driver who we so far only know by his initials LT, says as he and Ramón stop just behind Adam. The Ringmaster closes the trunk and turns around. There's a slight sign of shock in his face.
"What the fuck are you-- You have the fucking guts to--" he stutters, before the driver chuckles and cuts him off, extending his right hand towards him.
"I wasn't exactly expecting a hero's welcome, Adam, but you can at least say hi and shake an old friend's hand, can't you?" he says. Stryker slaps his hand away angrily.
"You aren't my friend, Lucius. You were once, then you left me high and dry in England when your dirty business caught up to you. You haven't even tried to reach me in four fucking years. We're way past friendship, you know that. Now get away from my fucking car," he says and tries to get to the door on the driver's side, but Ramón quickly cuts in front of him and leans on the door.
"And who the fuck are--"
"Sir, please," Ramón interrupts Stryker again. "Just... just listento what he has to say." Adam sighs as he slowly turns back to his former friend. Lucius Togo, a tall, muscular man who once was an important backstage figure in Stryker's first company LAWA and a manager of his stable in Pro-Wrestling FRONTIER in the UK, is standing there looking mighty pleased with himself, arms folded across the chest and a big smile on his face.
"Allow me to do the introductions. Adam Stryker, a world champion wrestling superstar making his comeback, meet Ramón Garza, former powerlifter, son of a very, very wealthy businessman from Monterrey, Mexico... oh, and an aspiring wrestler as well," Togo says. Ramón extends his hand towards Stryker, but Adam ignores him.
"Aspiring wrestler, huh? Well if he aspires so much, why doesn't he walk through that door and sign up for classes? Join the other twenty guys with the same dream as him?" Adam asks sarcastically. Togo chuckles.
"You don't understand me, Adam. Gerardo Garza, Ramón's father, he doesn't like when he, or those close to him, have to que for something, wait in lines, you see... Seňor Garza prefers a faster, and, let's say, more personal approach," Lucius proclaims. "You're on such good terms with people from Guerreros of Lucha, and since Seňor Garza has long been a fan, he would like you to get Ramón there. Make him a better luchador. Take him under your wings, so to speak. Take care of all of it," he pulls a cheque from his pocket, "personally."
Conflicted, Adam looks Togo in the eyes, then at the cheque in his hands, then finally at Ramón.
"Monday at four PM. In my office. You two idiots meet me there," he says and snatches the cheque from Lucius' hand. "And I'll see what I can do."
Stryker shoves Ramón out of the way, finally gets in his car and drives away. Lucius Togo and Ramón Garza stand next to each other, both looking at Stryker's car disappearing in the distance.
"You think it's going to work, LT? He didn't look too pleased to see you," the tall, muscular youngster asks.
"Oh, he never does. You, on the other hand?" Togo smirks, pulling out a pack of Marlboro Red and lighting a cigarette. "He's gonna make you a fuckin' superstar."
The scene opens in Los Angeles, California, as we find ourselves just outside of a building that appears to be a doctor's office. After a few seconds of the camera closing in on the building, its door opens and out walks Adam Stryker, clad in cozy sneakers, jeans and a denim jacket over an Alice in Chains t-shirt. He has a sports bag over his shoulder. Adam looks at the camera and gives it a brief smirk.
"Do you know where we are right now?" he asks. "This place right behind me is the office of a dear family friend, doctor John Morrow. I guess many of you haven't even heard of him up until now, but trust me, I know his office like the back of my hand. And unfortunately, it's not because I stop for a cup of coffee and a nice chat every now and then."
Adam slowly walks towards his car, a red Kia Cadenza parked just a few steps away.
"I was here at least once every week for the past three years. Trying to get my body together after putting it through a world of pain every week as a professional wrestler. Trying to make my damned right knee to work like it should for a man of my age. And asking John the same questions every time: Am I ready? Can I go back to the ring?"
He puts his bag in the trunk of the car. "I heard a resounding 'no' every time. A year ago, when my dear friend John Pariah passed away, I acted on impulse and tried to get back into the ring despite my doctor telling me not to. I was trying to honor Pariah's legacy, but in doing so, I almost damaged my own. I wasn't healthy, I was a shadow of myself, and I found out the hard way it was not the right time to come back," he says with a concerned face as he leans on the back of the car and looks directly at the camera.
"I set my recovery back a few weeks, maybe months. But I never gave up. While taking care of our three kids along with my wife and working as a manager in a PR agency here in LA, I still did my best every day to get to my one hundred percent shape again. To really be ready for a full time comeback between the ropes."
He walks to the door on the driver's side and opens it. "And after months and months of waiting... Here we finally are," he says as he gets into the car.
The camera man lets us see Adam leaving the driveway of John Morrow's office and driving away. We then cut to a scene that people who know Stryker are very familiar with, that being the Stryke Dojo in Los Angeles. Adam's car parks in the spot reserved for him, right outside of the main entrance. We follow The SoCal Switchblade as he picks up his sports back from the trunk of his car and enters the wrestling school he owns. After saying hi to several youngsters and their mentor, head trainer of the LA dojo Alistair Mangold, Adam enters his office. He drops the sports bag on the floor, hangs his denim jacket on a hanger on the wall and sits on the chair behind his desk, finally facing the camera once again.
"Maybe, just maybe it's not my brightest idea ever to make my comeback in a bout that's essentially a deathmatch, for a promotion so batshit crazy genuinely everything can happen there. I mean, when Frank Wiland was there, his face nearly exploded... in a match he won. But hey, that's just who I am, I like to test myself, throw myself straight in the deep end if you will. I could be going from one small time show to another, beating up punks that have been doing this for a fortnight and calling myself a champion for that. But I am not like that. I want the biggest challenge I can get.
That's why I picked the ever growing Empire Wrestling as my new home promotion in the US. That's why I picked a fast rising company Renegade Wrestling to be my home away from home in the UK, so I could be with them from the start. And that's why I wanted to come back to Guerreros of Lucha."
He folds arms across his chest.
"At the event wonderfully titled 'Shake Your Tits It's GOL', me and Joseph White will take part in the first round match of the Super Awesomo Epico Tournament, namely in a Cobweb Escape Match. Now, the whole point of the contest is in the name, really, to win you gotta escape, ideally with as little damage done to your body as possible. The thing is... I don't really feel like going anywhere in a hurry."
Adam smiles as he leans back in his chair.
"The nice people who paid for the ticket want to see Adam Stryker, in his hundred percent best shape again after three years, put on a show. They want to see me Suplex the life out of Joseph White, cut him in half with The Stryke and then put him to sleep when I stomp on his head when I got full control of him, having him locked in the Stretch Muffler. And THEN," he raises a finger for a second as an exclamation point, "and ONLY THEN will I climb out of the Cobweb and into the next round.
See, Joseph, from what I saw of you on our common shows back in KAMIKAZE, you are a brilliant wrestler. One of the best and brightest of an up-and-coming generation that's bursting out from the UK. You got the looks, the in-ring prowess... But you have one big problem, my friend. You ain't quite Adam Fuckin' Stryker."
The SoCal Switchblade leans forward again and puts his hands on the desk.
"I am not really an escape artist, Joe, but I truly am a god damn pro-wrestling artist. When I'm at my best, there's nobody that can square up to me. And unlucky for you, you don't only find me at my best, but also at my hungriest. After so much time away from active competition, after so much pain, medication, rehabilitation... I got just one thing in mind and that's demolishing everyone on my way to that trophy and ultimately to the Rey de Reyes Championship. To make it absolutely clear..."
He stands up a gives the camera a stare.
"Adam Stryker has suffered enough. Now... it's everybody else's turn."
The scene fades to black.
OFF CAMERA - Several hours later
"Come on, big man. It's been fucking hours. You gotta come out sometime..."
A black GMC Terrain is parked just a few spots away from the entrance of the Stryke Dojo. The man uttering these words is sitting behind the wheel, dressed in all black, his long hair tied in a manbun. He's got the window open, and is smoking a cigarette, still keeping his eyes on the main door of Adam Stryker's wrestling school.
"What if he just stays here the whole day? I mean, he's gotta get in mad shape before--"
"Bullshit," the driver barks, cutting off a a flow of thoughts man sitting right behind him, a Mexican youngster in jean shorts and a black tanktop. "I've known Adam for years. I was running errands for his dad and big Dave Parker back when he was having his first matches for LAWA. Dude's obsessed with all he does in the ring, but at the end of the day, he's a fucking hopeless romantic. Loves to beat a fucker up, but has to get home in time to spend time with his girl," the driver says, taking another drag. "Now that he's got three kids and all, I reckon he'd wanna get home even sooner."
"Okay, LT," the man in the backseat says humbly. "But I really think stalking him like this is just gonna scare him off from the whole thing, you know? I mean, we could have sent him an e-mail or something," he adds. The driver sighs.
"One more fuckin' time, Ramón," he says. "I've known Adam for a long fuckin' time. With shit like this, you can't just politely ask him, send him a text and shit. You gotta confront him. Push his buttons." The door of the Dojo opens and Stryker finally walks out.
"Let's go," the driver orders, throwing his cigarette on the ground. He and Ramón get out of the car and quickly approach Adam, who has his back turned to them as he's putting his bag in the trunk of his car.
"Strykes. Long time no see," the driver who we so far only know by his initials LT, says as he and Ramón stop just behind Adam. The Ringmaster closes the trunk and turns around. There's a slight sign of shock in his face.
"What the fuck are you-- You have the fucking guts to--" he stutters, before the driver chuckles and cuts him off, extending his right hand towards him.
"I wasn't exactly expecting a hero's welcome, Adam, but you can at least say hi and shake an old friend's hand, can't you?" he says. Stryker slaps his hand away angrily.
"You aren't my friend, Lucius. You were once, then you left me high and dry in England when your dirty business caught up to you. You haven't even tried to reach me in four fucking years. We're way past friendship, you know that. Now get away from my fucking car," he says and tries to get to the door on the driver's side, but Ramón quickly cuts in front of him and leans on the door.
"And who the fuck are--"
"Sir, please," Ramón interrupts Stryker again. "Just... just listento what he has to say." Adam sighs as he slowly turns back to his former friend. Lucius Togo, a tall, muscular man who once was an important backstage figure in Stryker's first company LAWA and a manager of his stable in Pro-Wrestling FRONTIER in the UK, is standing there looking mighty pleased with himself, arms folded across the chest and a big smile on his face.
"Allow me to do the introductions. Adam Stryker, a world champion wrestling superstar making his comeback, meet Ramón Garza, former powerlifter, son of a very, very wealthy businessman from Monterrey, Mexico... oh, and an aspiring wrestler as well," Togo says. Ramón extends his hand towards Stryker, but Adam ignores him.
"Aspiring wrestler, huh? Well if he aspires so much, why doesn't he walk through that door and sign up for classes? Join the other twenty guys with the same dream as him?" Adam asks sarcastically. Togo chuckles.
"You don't understand me, Adam. Gerardo Garza, Ramón's father, he doesn't like when he, or those close to him, have to que for something, wait in lines, you see... Seňor Garza prefers a faster, and, let's say, more personal approach," Lucius proclaims. "You're on such good terms with people from Guerreros of Lucha, and since Seňor Garza has long been a fan, he would like you to get Ramón there. Make him a better luchador. Take him under your wings, so to speak. Take care of all of it," he pulls a cheque from his pocket, "personally."
Conflicted, Adam looks Togo in the eyes, then at the cheque in his hands, then finally at Ramón.
"Monday at four PM. In my office. You two idiots meet me there," he says and snatches the cheque from Lucius' hand. "And I'll see what I can do."
Stryker shoves Ramón out of the way, finally gets in his car and drives away. Lucius Togo and Ramón Garza stand next to each other, both looking at Stryker's car disappearing in the distance.
"You think it's going to work, LT? He didn't look too pleased to see you," the tall, muscular youngster asks.
"Oh, he never does. You, on the other hand?" Togo smirks, pulling out a pack of Marlboro Red and lighting a cigarette. "He's gonna make you a fuckin' superstar."