ON CAMERA
We open to see Adam Stryker, dressed in jeans and PWX t-shirt, sitting on the balcony of his new house. He is finishing his morning cigarette, and is looking a little worried.
“I should be sitting here with the PWX Heavyweight Championship of the World sitting on my shoulder. But I’m not… and I ask why?
I had the champion dead to rights. The almighty John Wrath Ojeda, the three time PWX World Champion… was locked in the Shallow End and on the verge of tapping out. And then Darin Zion rang the bell, called it a time limit draw. When I got backstage, I nearly destroyed the whole fucking locker room… once again, I was so close to realising my dreams, but once again I was robbed of the opportunity. Last year, Elijah Black beat me just because the ref was out during the time when I had him pinned. And now this… Ojeda, I won’t blame you, it’s not your fault that Darin ended the match that way… but no matter how fucking indestructible you feel, I promise you that next time you will be locked in that move, you will tap out, no matter if I’ll have to hold you in it for an entire fucking hour…”
He takes a deep breath and sweeps his hair back, visibly nervous.
“Honestly… I kinda expected a bullshit end like that. It’s always like that when a piece of shit like Darin Zion is behind the desk as the boss. No matter which one of us stood on the proverbial good side of the barricade, Zion has always been doing his fucking best to make my life hell on earth. That’s what sent many people out the door of PWX – they couldn’t stand him and the other guys in the offices. Whether it was tough love or pure hatred, they couldn’t stand their ways…. fortunately, I am one tough motherfucker. I’ve gone through worse shit than a boss with a donkey dick stuck up his ass, so I figured I would just try to live with that and see how Darin is frustrated with the fact I don’t really give a fuck about him anymore. Only moment when I’m gonna put my hand on him next time is when I knock the shit out of him if he ever decided to interfere in my match again.
Fortunately, this week, I don’t have to worry about Zion, Schmied, Hollywood, Tiami or any other Establishment cunt… Nighthawk challenged me to a 2 out of 3 falls match. And since it’s not only a big challenge for me, but also a possible early fucking Christmas for the wrestling fans… it took me about quarter a second to nod my head to that idea.”
For the first time in the promo, Adam smiles.
“Nighthawk… Tristan, my friend… you know I respect you. In the world of crazy gimmicks and untalented peroxide blonde metrosexuals calling themselves top stars, you are one of those who care about the actual wrestling ability then about your looks, your merch and cool nicknames. And for the ability of tearing your opponent limb by limb and putting on a clinic every night you go out there to that ring, wrestling fans should fucking kiss the groud you’re walking, and I think some of them do.
But… you probably know it wasn’t always like that between me and you…
Let’s go back to last year, to its very beginning when you’ve arrived. At first, I didn’t know you and thought that a guy who sounds to be a lovechild of Nighwing and Hawkgirl will be gone again in no time.
But as Gandhi said, first they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you and then you win. So… you won.
When I was knee deep in shit, fighting Zion, Hollywood and Pariah, you won the World Championship. And when you lost it and I thought that would be your downfall in PWX… you won it again. In that time, I slowly started to realise the place I’m in and the side of barricade I’m at is not good for me, and as I slowly moved to the other side, to the greener fields, I started to acknowledge you as a major threat. And I started to respect you.
It took months and months until we finally met one on one in the ring. I was hell bent on bringing my A game and better, on showing you that Adam Stryker be more than a good match for a former World Champion… but a very unfortunate thing happened. As you hit a Rolling Elbow, I took a bad bump and got concussed. That… that was the worst thing that could happen to me. Fortunately, the concussion you gave me was a much needed re-start, and I’ve been climbing uphill eversince that.
It’s only fitting that tomorrow in Phoenix, after so many months, it’s me and you again, one on one.”
Adam takes few drinks from the glass of apple juice placed next to him and continues.
“This time, it seems the roles are reversed. I am the one who is inches away from being the World Champion and you are known more as a tag team wrestler these days… but just like last year, it’s not gonna make a difference. I expect more than a match, Tristan, I expect a battle… hell, a fucking all out war that’s gonna burn Phoenix to the ground. But this time around… I NEED to win the match. No offense, Hawkie, but I am more motivated to win this match and the PWX World Championship than you or anyone else ever was. I don’t give a fuck if I have to submit you, Schmied, Zion, Ojeda, or Jesus Christ himself, I will do it, million times over and over again if I have to… I just will. See, Tristan, I’m a sprinter that is running towards the World Championship waiting at the finish line. And as every good sprinter, I don’t see the obstacles… I just see the finish. And I’m gonna make sure I’m the first one to cross the finish line.
See you in Phoenix, Nighthawk.”
Stryker performs his cut-throat taunt, yet with a wide smile, as the scene fades to black.
Adam Stryker - professional wrestler 