PROMO: Car Park Safety

[Toxxic 0]

Time: Half an hour after Lockdown

Place: The car park of the Pepsi Arena, Denver, Colorado

 

Christian Fury steps out of the elevator and heads for his car, bag containing his two SWF titles slung over his shoulder and a whirl of thoughts going through his head. On Smarkdown he will face off against Landon Maddix to try and advance to the next round of the Cold Front Classic, and La Cucuracha won’t find his task easy...

 

Abruptly, Fury stops. He’s still several feet from his car, but something odd has struck him. Although the light over his parking bay is still working the lights to either side have both apparently failed, leaving the shadows of the concrete pillars long and dark. Christian shakes his head; he’s sure they weren’t like that earlier, but the likelihood of them both going in just a few hours... He hears footsteps behind him, and turns.

 

“David?” he asks. He thought Cross had already left the arena, but who else could it be...?

 

“Guess again,” the reply comes back, and into the circle of light steps the familiar figure of the World Heavyweight Champion, Toxxic.

 

“Fury,” Toxxic says, flipping the Hardcore Gamer’s Champion a lazy, two-fingered salute. “I saw your video earlier.”

 

“Did you like it?” Christian asks, grinning tightly. Toxxic looks at him for a moment, then grins back, the right hand side of his face creasing up.

 

“Well let me see, an annoying, worthless drunk like Dagda getting the crap kicked out of him?” Toxxic snorts a laugh. “Yeah, I can live with that.” As quick as the smile arrived it disappears, and the straight-edger looks serious again. “I wasn’t so keen on what you said though. You see, I began to think to myself ‘if Fury’s prepared to do that to a guy in the preliminary round of the tournament... what’s he going to do to the guy holding the belt?’.” The Straight-Edge Sensation steps closer, and the grey eyes stare directly into Fury’s. “Not to mention the fact that you mentioned me... and my friends.”

 

Suddenly, Christian Fury is aware that he and Toxxic aren’t alone down here. Two shadows have detached themselves from the pillars to either side of him and closed in. The smaller one must be Spike... and the bigger one is certainly Sean Davis. Fury turns his attention back to the Brit in front of him, and smiles nastily.

 

“Why? Did I scare you?”

 

“I don’t scare easily,” Toxxic tells him, walking right up to Fury, “and what you’ve got doesn’t cut it.” The straight-edger raises a hand and snaps his fingers. “Guys?”

 

Fury suddenly finds his arms taken and pinned up against his back as Sean and Spike grab them and force them into hammerlock positions, before Davis grabs his hair and yanks Christian’s head backwards. The Hardcore champion watches Toxxic take a pair of brass knuckles out of one of his voluminous side pockets, slip them onto his fingers and-

 

“So what,” Fury hisses, “you’re going to attack me and prove my point for me? You’re nothing but scum, Toxxic!”

 

“You don’t need me to prove your point,” the Brit tells him, smiling slightly. “Everyone in the SWF reckons I’m ‘evil’ anyway. No, what I’m doing is proving my point.” Toxxic draws him arm back... and slams his fist into Fury’s gut. The breath whooshes from Christian’s lungs as he doubles over, but he can still hear Toxxic’s voice.

 

“I’m sure you remember what happened the last time you tried to stand alone against a dominant stable,” the Straight-Edge Sensation tells him. “Believe me, I’m not Kibagami... but if you push me, you might find out I can be just as bad.” He kneels down and peers up into Fury’s face, head titled to one side as if watching something interesting.

 

“I’ve got a big enough target on my waist without arseholes like you thinking they can take matters into their own hands outside the ring,” Toxxic tells the breathless Fury. “We could break a limb, put you into a coma... or that old favourite, internal bleeding. What we’re actually going to do is much less serious - we’re just proving a point. Sean?” The Perfect Storm responds by releasing Fury’s arms, turning him around, placing him in a standing headscissors and hoisting him up high... before powerbombing him down on the hood of his own car.

 

*BANG!*

 

“That’s got to hurt,” Toxxic says as Fury writhes on the dented metal, “but you should be OK for your match against Maddix, apart from a few bruises. If you can beat him, win the tournament and face me for the title I’ll be more than happy to settle this... in the ring.”

 

Toxxic leans down until his mouth is next to Fury’s ear.

 

“But until then, if you ever get the urge to do something stupid, do yourself a favour. Don’t make the mistake of telling me what you’re going to do before you do it.”

 

Toxxic straightens up, turns on his heel and walks off, flanked by Sean and Spike. Meanwhile Christian Fury, spreadeagled across the front of his own car, simply stares up at the light above him.

[King Cucaracha 0]

Well, so much for me struggling to think of a match plan. Thanks Toxx.

[Vasarian_Brandy 0]

Wow... I think that's the first time in a little bit that I've actually said, "Oooooh..." while reading a promo...

 

Noice one, Toxx. That definitely gives me a few things to work with.

[Guest The Satanic Angel]

Old skool.