PROMO: Deja vu

[Toxxic 0]

The Rose Bowl, Pasadena, California.

 

A few hours before Genesis V.

 

 

“Hmph. Feels like I’ve been here before.”

 

The wrestler known to the world as Toxxic stares into the mirror for a few seconds before turning away and reviewing his ‘troops’. Sean Davis, calm and collected and not looking at all apprehensive about the two huge tasks facing him tonight. Marcus Washtington, bespectacled and serious as ever, then man who played a part in persuading Alex Zenon to give Spike and Sean two title shots tonight, as well as Sean defending his own Hardcore Gamer’s Championship. His girlfriend Jet, smiling encouragingly at him from the corner. And ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, either zoning out with concentration or waiting for the next thought to turn up. However, Toxxic’s comment seems to shake him out of his reverie.

 

“What do you mean you’ve been here before?” Spike asks Toxxic. “I didn’t think you’d ever been to the Rose Bowl before.”

 

“I haven’t,” Toxxic replies, sitting down on the bench, “but I’ve been in this situation before. A couple of hours before the Pay-Per-View, which is going to end in the biggest match of my career, a chance to win the World Heavyweight Title. Only difference is, this time I’m taking it back instead of winning it for the first time.”

 

“Yeah, and this time people don’t view you as an outsider,” Sean Davis adds in his deep voice. Toxxic grins mirthlessly.

 

“Way to make me feel relaxed, Sean.” The Straight-Edge Sensation shrugs. “Ah, what the hell. It’s only the main event of the biggest show in history. No reason to feel pressurised at all...”

 

“Hey,” Jet says, pulling something black out of her bag. “I brought this, just in case you wanted it.” She throws it over to Toxxic, who catches it and opens it out - revealing a tattered and torn Lostprophets T-shirt with the slogan ‘Heroic Rockstars’ on it. “Your lucky shirt,” the dreadlocked beauty continues, “I made sure I picked it up after the Triple Threat at Ground Zero.”

 

Toxxic stares at the shirt for a few seconds. He remembers the feeling of his first ever SWF Pay-Per-View where he went out wearing this shirt for the pitiful protection it gave and faced Aecas, the Black Angel, in a 200 Lightubes match for the same Hardcore Gamer’s belt that currently adorns Sean Davis’ shoulder. He remembers the pain of the Urinagi suplex into the barbed wire board, and the spinebuster through a lightube log cabin. Then he remembers how he shoved half a lightube in the Black Angel’s mouth and jawbreakered him before making his fellow Brit pass out in the Repeat To Fade. He remembers the reaction of the crowd at Ground Zero when he wore it again, watching three men whom they hated with equal fervour battle it out for the biggest prize in the SWF. He remembers when Janus threw him over the top rope and through the Spanish announce table, and he remembers countering Tom Flesher’s attempt to German suplex him off the second rope with the Intoxxication to finally climb the mountain and become the fastest-rising SWF World Champion since the year 2000.

 

He closes his eyes for a couple of seconds... then they snap open again, and he passes the shirt back to Jet.

 

“No,” he says, standing up. “Not tonight. Keep it safe, because I might need it again someday. But not tonight.”

 

“Why not?” Spike asks curiously. Toxxic turns to face him, and now the rest of Revolution Zero can see his face properly. There is a harder set to the eyes and the faint hint of a smirk around the mouth that they recognise. For whatever reason, Toxxic has made the mental changeover from the relatively friendly guy they hang with to the edgy, unpredictable and above all angrier persona of the Straight-Edge Sensation. They know that it is this that gives him his edge in the ring, they know he is simply starting to get into the right mental state for his match later tonight, and they know that the change is a conscious decision... but the sudden shift can still be slightly unnerving.

 

“Danny Williams, Dace Night and Tom Flesher couldn’t outwrestle me,” Toxxic tells them. “Aecas and the Insane Luchador couldn’t outbrawl me. Silent couldn’t keep me down for the count. Two people together couldn’t stop me winning the title last time.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out his eyeliner.

 

“This is the biggest night and the biggest match of my career, and I am ready. Johnny Dangerous is the only man in the SWF today who has managed a singles victory over me... and tonight I am going to take that - and the SWF Title - back from him. I don’t need anything to help me, I don’t need to be anybody but me.” The familiar lopsided grin creeps up Toxxic’s face.

 

“Now let’s get ready to show them what we’re made of.”