Toxxic 0 Report post Posted October 30, 2004 Scene: A hotel room in Toronto, Ontario Time: Just after Lockdown Toxxic collapses back on his hotel bed, exhausted. Beating Manson hadn’t been easy, and if it hadn’t been for that video going off... The video. Kibagami, again. It sounded like the sort of stunt he’d pull, but then again... I haven’t seen him in all this time. No-one has, except the guys in the production truck and I don’t know if I can trust them. It doesn’t feel like him to wait for this long without showing himself, without attacking me. Irritably, the Straight-Edge Sensation pulls his black holdall towards him and reaches into it for some paracetamol. He pulls the packet out and goes so far as to open it - then stops. For some reason, the thoughts of Kibagami going round in his head make him unwilling to resort to painkillers tonight. So let’s suppose it isn’t Kibagami. Who is it? Annie? I doubt it, doesn’t seem like her style and the vids have been turning up for longer than she’s had an issue with me. Cortez? Maybe, but he seems more likely to try and kick my head off than play mind games. I’d have said maybe Mike, but... Toxxic stops short. A memory surfaces, of a masked man running down when he and Sean were attacking Todd Cortez at ringside during Spike’s Cruiserweight Title match with Ryan Dustin. The masked man had used the Code Red, and at the time Toxxic had assumed that it was simply Mike Van Siclen having one last hurrah before he skulked off to dazzle the locals with his teeth in Shitsville, Idaho or wherever he’d crawled to in his retirement. But if that was Mike, and he was planning on making another appearance... ...it could be. Mike might not be as gone as he should be. It’s not like the SWF doesn’t employ masked weirdos without enquiring into their background, and besides, it’s not unheard of for wrestlers to come back under a mask. I know Birdman seemed awfully familiar, for one. Mike could slip in, get away with using his favourite moves by dedicating them to ‘the memory of Mike Van Siclen’ or some such bollocks, and try and get close enough to me to get revenge... and screw with my head in the process. A muffled beeping from his bag alerts the Straight-Edge Sensation to the fact that he has a message, and he plunges his hand into the holdall in search of his mobile phone. However, the first thing it encounters is a piece of paper, and Toxxic doesn’t remember putting any pieces of paper in his bad. Curiously, the World Champion draws it out and unfolds it. His eyes first widen, then narrow suspiciously as he reads a message in unfamiliar handwriting. ‘There is a coffee shop just off Toronto’s main square. Go there tomorrow morning at 10am and wait for me. Come alone - I will know if you bring a friend, no matter how well they hide.’ “Hey, what’s that?” Jet asks, emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. “Someone’s playing silly buggers,” Toxxic tells her, screwing the paper up and throwing it neatly into the room’s wastepaper bin. “And tomorrow morning I’m going to find out who, and why.” ________________________________________________ Scene: A coffee shop in Toronto Time: Just after 10am Toxxic looks down at the crumpled piece of paper he rescued from the bin that morning. This is a coffee shop, certainly, but who’s to say it’s the one mentioned? He went into the first one he saw assuming it was the only one fitting the description, but you never know, there could be another. In fact, Toxxic realises, he’s been so concerned with whether he’s in the right place or not that he hasn’t been thinking about who he’s here to meet. Van Siclen or Cortez seems unlikely, unless they have a hankering to be detained in Canada on an assault charge. An ex-girlfriend is pretty much out of the question, unless one of them has emigrated since he’s been away from Nottingham. Whoever it is, they must have had access to the backstage area of the Air Canada Centre and been able to slip into his room undetected... so that at least rules Aecas out, Toxxic thinks with a wry smile as the mental image of the seven-footer with the black-and-white painted face attempting to sneak unnoticed past security flashes into his head. The notion so amuses him that it takes a second for him to realise that someone has sat down opposite. “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone,” Toxxic tells him, throwing the man a cursory glance. “Not anymore, you’re not,” a soft voice replies. The accent isn’t Canadian but the voice is vaguely - very vaguely - familiar, and Toxxic turns to see who has spoken. For a moment he stares blankly at the unremarkable face looking into his; then realisation dawns. “Well... I certainly wasn’t expecting you,” Toxxic says, setting his coffee down. The man smiles, a movement of the lips that never reaches the tired-looking eyes. “No-one ever does.” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest carnage Report post Posted November 1, 2004 u didn't say who it was that makes me excellent promo Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest The Satanic Angel Report post Posted November 1, 2004 Oooh, I know who it is. Y'all better watch out now. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Toxxic 0 Report post Posted November 1, 2004 You know, Sarah, assuming that's you in your avatar, and I can vouch for that being me in mine... do you think that's Spike in his? *ducks* Just kidding, Spike... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest The Satanic Angel Report post Posted November 2, 2004 You know, Sarah, assuming that's you in your avatar, and I can vouch for that being me in mine... do you think that's Spike in his? *ducks* Just kidding, Spike... That is indeed me in my avatar. Beautimous, no? I would like Spike more if that was him in his avatar ... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
