Frankie Cocheese is really sweaty & its gross (vs. Cocheese)
May 9, 2016 20:56:08 GMT -6
Dante Claude Carlington likes this
Post by devilssaint on May 9, 2016 20:56:08 GMT -6
Nikki walks behind the curtain in the Golden Gate Arena. There are referees on either side of him ready to grab him in case he fell down. Nikki, being a stubborn idiot, refused any sort of medical attention or referee assistance while in the ring. He refused to even let the medical personnel clean the blood off of his face. Moments earlier, after finally regaining enough awareness to sit up by his own power he pushed everyone away. He smiled into the camera that had gone to commercial break. Nikki felt at his cheek, still sore from the elbow he took from Silas Romero. He felt his forehead, now sore from eating gold-plated steel. He felt a gash that the top of the belt had place into his skin and cringed. While the elbow from Silas did not bloody or bruise Nikki's face, Frankie Cocheese did. He walked toward the locker room leaving the camera to follow behind his back. More medical personnel rushed to him but he ignored them. He couldn't even notice the blood running down his face. He was good. He was walking this one off. Road Agents gasped in horror as he passed them. They had seen what Capital Crew had done, what they didn't see was what they did to Nikki. They watched but they did not see.
Nikki pushed open the door to the locker room. The walls are a fresh snow white and the lockers are all shining. The locker room is so clean and new. Nikki takes a few steps inside with his head down, blood pouring all over the perfect tile floor. The camera follows and turns 45 degrees to the left. Nikki hides his head as the camera zooms into his back. He slams the door and the camera zooms out. Nikki takes a few more steps inside the locker room that now has piss brown walls. The bench that is positioned in the middle is falling apart and the lights have all been busted. The only light source comes from a plethora of lit candles that line the floor, open locker doors and the decrepit bench.
"Nikki." The camera shoots back to the closed door. The monochrome little girl is standing in front of it in a pure white gown. Her straight black hair put into two plaits originating from her the part in her hairline; meeting at the back of her head in a single hair elastic. "What has Cocheese done to you? He's attacked you. Beat you. Cut open your forehead with the belt he has cheated to win. And for what reason did he attack you? Was it because you lied about him? Did you insult his mother? Did you personally attack his family, the Capital Crew? Nope. You simply told the cold hard truth. They didn't like that though, and now you get to face Frankie Cocheese in a match that will be hyped up by Alex Smith as your chance for revenge." She pauses and tilts her head. "That is not how we operate. We don't need revenge- nor will we get it. You are outnumbered five to one. Your odds at a pinfall victory; somewhere between slim and none. They cheat and lie and kidnap because they are weak. They need to attack you from behind because they are weak. They will dispute that, they will call you names. They will try to cut you down, but they are the bully and you are the hero coming to save MSW. You are MSW's... Personal Hero." A smile crawls across the child's face at the mention of Peyton von Licht's former moniker. "And they will mock that too. They are weak and simple-minded. Not dumb, but unwise."
Nikki stands there absorbing what the monochrome child had just said to him; things have all changed. Before his fight was for the crowd, but against the filth that is Silas Romero. He was the hero and Silas presumably the arch villain. Silas had surprised Nikki, though, for he did not touch Nikki prior to their match at War. They left everything out there, and now they have gone on their separate paths. Franklin and the Capital One Crew have done the opposite. No honour. No respect. No dignity.
"They will laugh, won't they, when they hear us call them weak. They will dismiss it with out a second thought. Let them dismiss it. They know deep down that without the 'Burb Boys, Vega and Barrel that Frankie Cocheese could never defeat you. But what are they angry about, Nikki? You told the truth. You have never resorted to kidnapping a woman and holding her hostage to get a championship title match. Every single championship match has been well earned. You have never needed anyone else to interfere in your matches because win or lose you fought with honour. You didn't deface company property because despite your opinion of Eye-sack, you respected him as the owner of MSW. You are a big boy. You didn't need to cheat. You are strong, stronger than the Capital Crew. Now go out there Nikki and show them you are stronger than them."
Nikki stood there and snickered. He still refused to show his face the camera. It was unimportant what facial reaction he had, he had nothing important to add to her monologue.
"Nikki" from the other corner of the locker room stood the woman in the afghan attire. Her eyes a vivid emerald green pierced through the dim light. "They will try to cut us down. They will call you insane, so let them. They will continue to spread gossip about some drug addiction, but just like Silas will refuse to surrender sources for this gossip." The woman crosses her arms and leans against the lockers. "Or maybe Frankie will claim Meltzer reported it. He seems like the type of guy to follow Meltzer's reports. This just in: Meltzer reports that Frankie Cocheese is under investigation for the murder of Jimmy Snuka's girlfriend in the nineteen eighties!" She shrugs. "Seems legit. We've seen some clever lies about you around the internet, Nikki. They are mudslingers, just like Silas. At least Silas had some decorum though." She straightens up from the locker and takes a few steps forward. "Nikki, we need you at one hundred percent. So heal your wounds and regain your vitality. They have won the battle, but not the war. They've beaten you down, but they have yet to defeat you." She runs her hand down the side of Nikki's face and turns it to the camera. There is no more blood, just a few red cuts that have ceased to bleed. "Heal, and step forth with the honour and dignity that was once associated with Missouri State Wrestling." Nikki smiles as the camera fades to black.
