PROMO: The Next Generation

[King Cucaracha 0]

Recently, times have been tough for Landon Maddix. Another show, another loss. And it's beginning to get to the point of too serious to ignore. After all, it was only a year or so ago that he was the World Heavyweight Champion of the SWF. And now, he's unable to beat the talented but inconsistant Stryke and a rusty, former indy wrestler turned movie 'star', Wes Davenport? Serious? Yes. But need to be laid out on a leather couch and talking about his problems? Well, apparantly so.

 

"This year has been tough." sighs Maddix, wiping the hair from his eyes. "No, wait, scratch that...this year has sucked. It's been downhill ever since February and it's just getting worse by the week. Heh...and to think, this was supposed to be my year. My new beginning. The SWF under MY era. That was the hype. Beating Toxxic last Christmas put me on the top of the pile and suddenly, everything was perfect. The perfect end to the perfect year. January 14th, I lost the World Title to Sacred. To be honest, looking back, I shouldn't have been surprised. Sacred's always been...a bogey opponent of mine. I lost to him in my first SWF match and it stuck from there, though I was never a regular opponent of his, in the back of my mind. Sacred's too good for you. Sacred's better than you. I'd beaten all that...I beat him, won the Cold Front Classic against him. Too complacent. That was the start."

 

Looking up, Maddix wipes a wry smile from his face.

 

"Sure, I won the Clusterfuck. A big honour, huge accolade. I etched my name in history that night. A second chance. From The Fire, everything started to go backwards again. One step forwards, two steps back. I went backwards against Sacred...and then, it was as if Slay Ride had never happened. Toxxic was suddenly a worry again. If not for losing the World Title, I might have been okay you know. Fear wasn't a problem until then because I had all the confidence in the world and I was able to fall back on everything I'd ever done in the past, everyone I'd ever beaten, everything I'd ever accomplished. Then, it hit me. History doesn't mean jack. Toxxic beat me. He nearly broke my damn neck. I got over that. But I'd lost something. I had something over Toxxic from Slay Ride...mentally. That went and so did my confidence with it. I asked not to go after the World Title..."

 

Maddix sighs deeply.

 

"...I pleaded. Damn it, I fucking begged them not to put me in another match with Toxxic. Because my confidence was shot to bits. Toxxic didn't cripple me physically. He managed to cripple me mentally though. So I went for the second prize. I went after Johnny Dangerous. Let's face it, if I couldn't beat Dangerous, it was all over for me because I was always, always, able to pull out the victory against Johnny when it mattered. You know, I was so close to quitting back then...losing to Dangerous would have tipped me over the edge. But I beat him. The third chance. I had the International Title. You know, I held the ICTV Title for 138 Days. Two short of the record reign the company had ever seen at that time. Maybe something like that would have helped me out. Maybe that would have...I dunno...made up for From The Fire in some way."

 

A shake of the head.

 

"Five days. FIVE...days. I don't know to this day what was more embarrassing. Losing the World Title so quickly, nearly getting crippled trying to win it back...or losing the 'secondary' title in under a week. Third chance, gone. Strike three."

 

Holding up three fingers to signify his point, Maddix again wipes the hair from his eyes.

 

"Maybe then, the writing was on the wall. Maybe I was just too stupid to see it...or, just too ignorant and proud to take any notice of it. Suddenly, it all came flooding back. Fear. Fear of failure. So I fell back on someone else and went after the Tag Titles. Looking back, that was just as damaging as losing would have been. Suddenly, the threads all came loose and everything unravelled until I was left with nothing. World Title? Gone. International Title? Gone. Tag Titles? Gone. My stable, my tag partner, my manager...all gone. I was clinging on to everything that I had left from last year in the hope that eventually, it'll all go back to normal. I was in denial. 'As long as I have Martial Law, I'll be fine', I'd tell myself. 'As long as Megan's there, everything's okay.' 'She's my good luck charm'. Ha! Some good luck charm...she was just something to cling onto from the past, pretending that everything was still the same. Once I lost the Tag Titles and Martial Law fell apart, she was all I had left from Slay Ride. From 2004. Without Megan, I was nothing. When Cortez beat me at Genesis, I couldn't deny it anymore. I was going backwards."

 

Sitting up, Maddix holds his head in his hands.

 

"And now, I sit here...and I'm actually afraid. I beat Max King so many times in 2004, I've lost count. I beat him time after time. I beat him in Dumpster Matches. I beat him in Cage Matches. I beat him in straight up, singles matches. But...this isn't 2004. And I'm afraid of Max King. Just like I was afraid of Sacred. Just like I was afraid of Toxxic. I know I can beat him, because I've done it before. It should be no problem. Confidence should be flowing through my veins at the thought of facing Max King. It's not."

 

At this time, the camera pans up. Far from conducting this conversation with a physiciatrist or a doctor, Maddix is actually talking to his two stablemates. One, the International Champion, Jay Hawke. The other, the Cruiserweight Champion, JJ Johnson. Neither of them looking too enthraled with Maddix's story, but both listening anyway.

 

"So, why do you think you're going to lose to Max King?" asks Hawke finally.

 

"I dunno...I just do."

 

"Yeah, but why?"

 

"Because it'd be just my luck, the way this ye..."

 

Hawke interrupts Maddix with a raised hand, prompting Maddix to sit up.

 

"There's your problem. It's nothing to do with 'luck'. It's confidence. And the reason your confidence is so low is because you haven't got Megan Skye to fall back on when your Plan A fails. So, the solution is pretty obvious..."

 

"Find another rat to stick in my corner and help me cheat?"

 

Shaking his head, Hawke immediately puts out any enthusiasm Maddix had found.

 

"No...you need to be confident that you can win without Megan Skye, or any blonde bimbo for that matter. Me and JJ manage without valets and escorts. You just need another Plan B. Infact, now that I think of it, you'd be best served with a new Plan A as well."

 

"Like what?" asks Maddix, sounding unconvinced.

 

"Well, the problem is, your style isn't exactly foolproof. High flying is all-well and good, don't get me wrong. But you have to learn to play your averages. I watch you in the ring and some of the things you do look more damaging than they actually are. You need to eliminate the flash and go with something that works. Pure wrestling for example. Or maybe something more along JJ's path. Shoot wrestling. A more MMA influenced style."

 

Maddix muses over what Hawke has suggested...

 

 

 

...and bursts into laughter. A little disconcerted, Hawke turns around...to find that JJ Johnson is also smirking away, not risking his throat with actual laughter but still able to see the funny side of Jay's suggestion.

 

"I thought you said you've seen me wrestle!" splutters Maddix in the middle of his laughter. "Me? Pure wrestling? Mixed Martial Arts!?! Don't you think I would if I COULD? Being a cheating, scheming luchador is all I know!"

 

"I know. So, me and JJ are going to teach you different."

 

Suddenly, JJ doesn't find this situation quite so funny, looking at Hawke as if he's lost his mind. But Hawke seems totally serious as he nods to JJ. Meanwhile, Maddix too has stopped laughing. The thought of Landon Maddix, Technical Shoot Fighter should be funny. Hell, there's probably plenty of people hearing this that are in fits of laughter thinking about the mere possibility. Landon isn't one of them though. After all, it's ridiculous. As if he could win a match wrestling the way Jay or JJ do. HA!

 

But, then again, it's not like he's winning as it is.

 

"You're serious?"

 

"Deadly."

 

"...then I guess we'd better get started, because you've got a LOT of work to do."

Edited November 22, 2005 by King Cucaracha

[Toxxic 0]

...oh damn. This should be good.

 

But hell, if Card could teach Toxxic to wrestle (sort of) then Hawke and Johnson should be able to do the same for Landon.

[Bruce Blank 0]

DON'T TEACH HIM THE CHOP BLOCK OF DOOM!!