PROMO: Reflections

[Guest The Superstar]

His face stared back at him, distorted in the curved gold mirror. Dried sweat remained on his face. Exhaustion showed in his eyes. Bruises littered his body.

 

But he was home.

 

To Charlie Matthews, home had always been the top of the mountain. “After tonight,” he thought to himself, “I’ve finally made it.” Before this, there seemed to be only two things that played in his head; the only two losses he had ever suffered in the SJL.

 

Before Mathews can fall, he is grabbed by Tarakanov and steadied between his legs. With a quick motion, the near three hundred pounder is lifted up onto his Russian shoulders, and then slammed back down to the mat with a loud thud. The crowd is now cheering only for the excitement of the match, finally delivered. Viktor does not release his hold on his opponent, however, as is evident by his enormous struggle as he lifts the “Grappler” in the air again, not quite so high as before and then slams him back to the mat again.

 

The force of that powerbomb almost shook the ring, but Viktor is still not finished. Stopping with Charlie still in position, catching his breath, “The Red Rage” suddenly jerks his body upwards, slowly lifting the heavy load that is the “Grappler” into the air as high as the second bomb. Out of nowhere, he lets out a roar and hoists the big man the rest of the way in the air, every muscle in his body rippling, before slamming him to the mat with a noise bigger than the other two combined. The crowd is marveling at the strength of the terrible Tarakanov with cheers not for the man, but for the athleticism.

 

Axis: That was just THREE POWERBOMBS on a THREE HUNDRED POUND MAN!! That was an INCREDIBLE show of power by Viktor Tarakanov!

 

King: WOW!! That was freaking crazy! He’s got the gift.

 

Tarakanov falls down in exhaustion and positions himself over top of Mathews for the cover. The referee quickly drops to the mat to count.

 

1

 

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2

 

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3

 

DING!! DING!! DING!!

 

Funyon speaks from ringside, also thankful that the match is over, “Your winner of the match... Viktor TARAKAAANOOOV!!” His theme music starts up without him as he’s still lying on the mat.

 

He had always tried to wipe that thought away from him; the feeling of being on his back, unable to avoid the inevitable.

 

1

 

.

 

.

 

2

 

.

 

.

 

 

3

 

DING!! DING!! DING!!

 

And then there was the other.

 

Matthews brings Leo to his feet and places his head between his legs, before clasping his hands around the midsection of the challenger. Grappler then lifts up into the air, bringing Breslin up into a seated position on his shoulders. However, when this happens, Leo places his feet on the very top rung of the ladder, thanks to the elevation of the Powerbomb. Thinking quickly, he reaches up and grasps the TV Title belt in his hands, which is barely in his reach!

 

King: What the hell is he doing?

 

Axis: He wants to win! And if he can just escape the Powerbomb, I think he will!

 

However, the force of Charlie Matthews is too strong, as he pulls Leo forward, off of the ladder, and CRASHING with unbelievable impact to the mat, back first, as the crowd, for some reason, lets out a huge roar!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

King: What the hell? Did the time limit run out?

 

Axis: Well, that’s a pos- WAIT! LOOK! THE TV TITLE…IT’S IN THE HANDS OF LEO BRESLIN!!!!

King: WHAT?!?! NO! This can’t be!

 

Matthews backs up, confused as to why the bell rung. He then looks down at the fallen heap of Breslin, and sees it: the Television Title. Matthews almost immediately drops to his knees in shock over what has just happened as Funyon stands and says the sweetest words Leo Breslin has ever heard.

 

Funyon: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, your winner, AND THE NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW SMARKS JUNIOR LEAGUE WORLD TELEVISION CHAMPION…LEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BRESSSLIN~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

His Television Championship, literally stolen from his grasp. These two memories he just could not escape. But now there was a new memory in his mind.

 

Tonight. He had finally done it. A meteoric rise, capped off with the perfect ending.

 

The King of the World is absolutely FUMING now, getting right into the face of the referee. Jenkins shoves Soapdish, but Soapdish stands up for himself and shoves Spike right back, garnering a loud pop from the crowd! Hollywood blows him off, however, and turns around…………to see Charlie Matthews sending a boot into his gut to greet him. With Spike doubled over, Grappler wraps his arms around his body and hoists him into the air, on his shoulders, before running forward and powering him down into a sit-out position with the FOREIGN STAR BOMB!!!! Soapdish counts and everyone in the arena is standing and counting along with the pin!

 

OOOOOONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spike shoots his shoulder off the canvas…

 

 

T

H

R

E

E

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

…but it’s too late.

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

THE CROWD EXPLODES!!!!!!

 

Charlie Matthews rolls off of Spike, completely exhausted, onto his back as Funyon stands up and says the sweetest words Grappler has ever heard.

 

Funyon: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR WINNER AAAND NEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWW SSSSSSJJJJJLLLLL WOOOORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, CHAAAAAARLIE “GRAPPLER” MAAAAATTHEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Matthews stared at the SJL World Heavyweight Championship admirably, as it glinted back at him. His reflection was that of a smile. He was happy again. And with that, he grabbed the Championship and tucked it away safely in his gym bag. He walked toward the door of his locker room, and without looking back, he departed into the cool June night.

 

The weight of the World was now on his shoulders, but he was home. Things couldn’t be better.

 

_______________________________________

 

Just a short promo, because it HAD~! to be done. I guess.