G.R.R. All-Extreme Ch. 4
All-Extreme
Chapter 4
By: Silverback ChristianpawRaynge
A lot of rumors have been going around even in the two days I've been All-Extreme World Champion since the Tooth and Claw pay-per-view. The GRR website has been talking about Brian Hunter's injuries and that there may be severe consequences from what happened. Clyde and few of the other boys have been blowing up my phone with all kinds of things; Congratulating me on winning the title, updates on Brian Hunter, rumors that have been flying around the GRR offices, it's just been hectic. But Tuesday has finally arrived and I can now finally get some answers instead of just constantly wondering.
I put my shirt and jeans on and came down to the guerrilla position (backstage area) with both the World Championship and the Hardcore Championship belts over each one of my shoulders. I sat down in a chair as most of the the roster started pulling up chairs to watch the monitor with me. I was told that the show was going to open with Mr. Armahdo making a big announcement.
The monitor comes on and All-Extreme's opening music video starts up. I open up my bottle of water and take a swig, my foot bounces up and down in suspense as the camera pans to Armahdo in the ring with a microphone.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he says with a big, dumb looking smile on his face, "My name is Mr. Armahdo and I am Chris Grunk's executive assistant. Over the past couple of weeks we've had a lot of atrocious things happening, including the General Manager, Chris Grunk, suffering a heart attack. We of course wish Grunk and his family with our best wishes." He gives an even goofier smile to the camera, guh, what an idiot, and he didn't have a heart attack, he was attacked, just wish I knew by who.
"But this is in regards to two nights ago at Tooth and Claw," he continues, "For those of you that didn't see it we had an Extreme Rules match for the All-Extreme World title that quite frankly wasn't supposed to happen in the first place. The former champion, Brian Hunter, went over my head and told all of our advertisers and media crew that this match was happening so they did their best, as they always do, to promote the match to you guys, our audience, and I always make sure to give the people what has been advertized."
"Yeah, after fighting with me about it," I said under my breath.
"But as most of you may already know, Hunter suffered a very serious injury at the end of his match. Now, I have talked with Brian's doctors and it looks like Mr. Brian Hunter will be out of action for the next couple of months.
"This is just more proof of what I have been saying, and that is that Extreme Rules matches, and hardcore matches in general are way too dangerous for this television program. And I have talked it over with the CEO of Gold Rush Restling, Ms. Draxa, and the board of directors . . . and we have reached our decision. We have officially decided to ban all Extreme Rules matches from this program."
The fans start booing.
"Oh come on, what the fuck?!" I said with my paw on my face.
"What the hell is up with that?" another wrestler said. Some of the wrestlers were showing the same frustration as me. Because what the hell is this? No Extreme Rules matches? Why, because one wrestler got injured?" I kept watching,
"Barbed wire and tables and garbage wrestling like that is not becoming of Gold Rush Restling, and because of this decision we are canceling the match that happened at the pay-per-view. It will be deleted from our video libraries, it will be taken off the Tooth and Claw DVD, the match does not exist, the match never happened."
The fans kept booing as I held my water bottle tight, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but I fear that him saying that the match never happened was going to be the least of my worries here in a second.
"Now the board of director's decision has left us with a matter-at-hand regarding the World Title. Since the title changed paws in a match that has been banned and deleted, and in my personal opinion, the title has changed paws in such a violent manner, we have furthered our decision and have decided to officially strip Raynge Husky of the world championship." All of the fans started booing even louder.
"WHAT?!" I scowled. I stood looking at the monitor, any other thoughts I had were long gone and now my eyes were fixated on the television. The fans started booing Armahdo. "GRAHH!" I grabbed my chair and threw it across the room, the metal chair hitting a production case with a loud slam.
"So now, what I would like to do is have Raynge Husky to come down here," he said.
All of the wrestlers started looking at me. I growled and stomped my foot and tossed the water bottle at a wall, the water exploding as I walked through the curtain and started making my way down the ramp. My music not playing, fans cheering and booing, and holding a championship over each shoulder and both of them mean the world to me.
Another big arena full of awesome fans coming to their feet. I quickly got into the ring and asked for a microphone from one of the crew guys at ringside, trying to keep my cool.
I said, "So let me get this straight; first you didn't want the match to happen, but now that it has happened and Hunter got hurt from it you want to take that great match away from these fans and say that it never happened?"
"Well, that's putting it--"
"Then, to top it all off you want to ban Extreme Rules matches forever?"
"That is our decision," he said again slightly flustered.
I growled a little but tried to keep my cool, "Hmm, 'our decision'. Right. Our decision. There's something here that you don't understand.
"You see me, as a wrestler, we spend over 300 days a year on the road, going from town to town, coast to coast, and country to country to wrestle and promote Gold Rush Restling, whether it's the extreme brand or not, and we do this not just to collect a paycheck but also because this is what we love to do. And to be at the top of this profession you have to be the world champion, and all I've ever wanted was to be world champion. So I fought, and struggled, and tried to be a good boy and do business the right way, and I thought maybe one day that day would come. And at Tooth and Claw it did. Hunter and I had a great match, one of the best in my career and I finally accomplished my life-long dream and became the World Champion . . and now you want to just take that way from me? You just want me to give back this championship and say that that match never happened?" I growled.
"Now listen, I understand your concern, but hear me out, okay? Here me out. Now, I wasn't going to just let you give this up without having the chance to win it back," he said pointing at my World Championship, "because tonight is going to be the start of a eight-man tournament--"
I already was shaking my head in disbelief. The fans boos were now deafening throughout the arena.
"That's your answer? That's my fair opportunity? An eight-man tournament?"
"Yes Raynge. Tonight we will have the four quarterfinal matches and then next week we will have the semi-finals and then the finals to crown the official All-Extreme World Champion. And hey, if you make it to the finals and win the World Championship then you actually deserve to be the world champion, but as of right now there is no champion. So if you would be so kind?" He points at my World Championship belt again, I didn't want to give it up, but it looks like I wasn't going to win this fight, at least not on this night, no matter how hard I fought.
I took the championship off my shoulder and held it with one arm, the title suddenly feeling too heavy for me to even carry, this championship was mine but now it's not, just like that. A pipsqueak black dragon in a business suit told me that my world championship reign was over, hell according to Armahdo and the front-office idiots my championship reign never even happened.
I extended the belt out before I had the chance to take it right back and he takes it. His smile makes me feel evil and violent, I want to take his head off but I knew it would do me no good, it wouldn't get me the title back and it wouldn't reignite my contendership for the title, if I wanted what is mine, then I was going to have to compete in the tournament . . . this is bull shit.
*
"The following contest is a Quarterfinal Match in the World Title Tournament and is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen-minute time limit," the ring announcer says into his microphone. My music comes on and I make my way down the ramp. My tail hasn't wagged since the announcement over an hour ago. And the fact that I'm matched up with a new comer named Mathias Wolf, just makes me want to shoot myself.
I slide into the ring, the fans are cheering me but they know as well as I do that this stupid tournament shouldn't be happening and I should still be the world champion. I'm trying not to let it beat me down but it's making me very angry.
Suddenly some other rock some comes on and some pyro-fire shoots out as a red wolf made his way through the curtain and down the ramp. He's got a pair of black trunks on and he's smiling away and pointing to the crowd like he's a friggin' movie star.
The announcer says, "And making his G.R.R. Debut, weighing in a 180 pounds, this is Mathias Wolf!"
He slides into the ring and stands on the turnbuckles pointing at the crowd. He's about my height but much more slimmer than I am. Guh, fuckin' jobbers. Well at least my first match in this stupid-ass tournament will be an easy one.
Ding-ding-ding.
The bell rings and I get ready. We lock up and I quickly take him down with a deep arm drag and hook his head. He tries to push out but my slightly larger size is no match for this nobody. He grabs my wrist and manages to power out of it, I try to go for a quick swing but he ducks it and wraps his arms around my waist and delivers a quick German suplex, toppling me on the mat back first. He backs away and I get up quick. He gets a smattering of applause for the move, meh whatever.
We go for another lock up and I quickly break us out of it and rock him with a hard punch right to his face, he backs up into the ropes, I hit him with a forearm to his chin and shoot him off the ropes. He comes back in time for me to deliver a hard clothesline that sends him down to the mat.
"Ohhh!" some of the fans yell in unison.
I grab him by the throat, he yelps in horror as I pick all 180 pounds of him up with ease. I want to smash him into bits, this entire match, hell this entire tournament is a waist of my time. The All-Extreme World Championship is mine! I won it fair and square! I was going to be a fighting champion who could defend my title at any time and go down in the hardcore history books as the greatest Extreme Champion ever, only now I can't be extreme and now I am no champion.
I growled and barked so loud as I slung his arm over my shoulder and picked him up and throw him back down with a thunderous chokeslam.
"Ohhh!" the crowd says again as they clap and cheer me on. I look out at the crowd. Some of them, some of them are booing, but all of them know that I got screwed by the office. I can't believe this is what my wrestling career is going to. Two days ago I was on top of this extreme brand of wrestling. Being the top of this hardcore and unique brand of wrestling, working for the biggest company that I possibly can, making more money than I could ever want . . . and less than 48 hours later I'm working qualifying matches against no-name wrestlers. This is absolute horse shit!
I growl again and grab this Mathias by his ear, I just want to get this match overwith. Another chokeslam ought to do it, it might make me feel better. I pick him up and grab him by the throat again but the wolf quickly fights out of it and gets one arm under mine and kicks me in the leg and gets another arm under mine and delivers a double-underarm suplex onto my upper back and shoulders. A basic move but I got to get out of it. I hear the referee already down on the mat to start the count.
"One! . . ."
I try to wiggle my arms free but this jobber has my arms hooked pretty good, and I hit my upper back pretty hard.
"Two! . . ."
Fuck, I try to get just one shoulder off the mat but he has them pinned down hard, damn.
"Three!" The referee rings the bell and the crowd starts yelling. Mathias lets go and scrambles out of the ring quickly. Ding-ding-ding!
"Wait a minute!" I yell out but Mathias' rock music starts playing and I look out in the sea of people cheering.
Did I? Did I lose?
I watch Mathias jump up and down with joy and start high-pawing with the crowd.
"What? NO!" I stand up and start grabbing my headfur.
The announcer says, "The winner of this match, who now advances to the Semi-Finals, Mathias Wolf!" The fans cheering grows even louder.
"WHAT?!?!" I scream at the announcer as he just looks at me a little scared. "I lost? Wha? What the hell?!" I get out of the ring and grab the announcer by his shirt, "What did you say? I lost?"
The announcer says, "Please take your paws off me."
I say again just to get my answer, "I lost?" The referee comes up to me and smacks my arm away from the announcer,
"Get off of him, it's done!" the referee says.
"I lost? That was only a two!" I yelled.
He held three fingers up to me, "It was three, I counted three!"
I shook my head in shock, "No, it couldn't be!"
"Yes! Your shoulders were down for three. You lost," he tried to say calmly.
"But that was--" I pounded my fist on the steel steps, "That was my only chance to get my World Championship back!"
"I'm sorry, you lost the match, all I'm doing is my job," he says.
I push him down. The fans start yelling in even more shock. I look down at the referee lying down looking up at me, he must have been in on it, it was a damn conspiracy by the fucking office again, they want to hold me down in this company.
"That was my title!" I scream at the referee. I quickly look around and see the red wolf jobber still high-pawing with the fans over his victory. I quickly grab one of the crew members who was sitting down and toss him to the side and grab his steel chair. I close with it a loud clang and start to run after the jobber who cost me my last chance to get my championship back, that son of a bitch!
I walk up to him holding the chair, he sees me and quickly puts his paws up and tries to calm me down,
"Whoa, buddy, I don't want any trouble," he says.
"You cost me the championship!" I scowl.
"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to win so I can advance in the tournament."
I hold the chair up so I can swing it and knock his head off, but then I feel a paw on my shoulder, I turn back and its the referee again,
"Put the chair down Raynge!"
FWAP! I clobber the referee with the chair.
"Ohhh!" the crowd says.
Suddenly a couple of trainers run down the ramp, I quickly swing the chair again and hit one of the trainers a bear in a light-blue shirt.
"Come on Raynge, put the chair down, dammit!" the trainer says, "We don't want any trouble, just get out of here." Before I can even blink somebody grabs the chair and takes it away from me. More referees and road agents run down the ramp and surround me all talking to me. Saying 'it's not worth it' and 'just get out of here'. I just stood there and looked around at all of them surrounding me and tried to take a few quick deep breaths. They were right. It wasn't worth it. This was unfair but I didn't need to take it out on Mathias or the referee, I was the one who had my mind on other things and Mathias capitalized and got the win, I would do the same thing. But what am I supposed to do now? My World Championship dream was gone, and now I knew it for sure.
"Fine," I said to the agents as I started walking up the ramp. The fans chattering is raining down on my back, they are all in shock and quite frankly so am I.
*
I didn't even have enough time to take a shower when a trainer knocked on my locker room door and told me that Mr. Armahdo wanted to see me in his office. "Immediately, right now," he said. I held my Hardcore Championship belt as I walked down to his office. His door was wide open and I could already hear him cussing out loud. I walk in and he's talking with the trainer that came to my room and a couple of security guards.
Armahdo glares at me, "Who in the hell do you think you are?"
"What?" I said.
"I specifically told you that I don't want any more of that kind of senseless violence on this program anymore."
"No, you said you didn't want Extreme Rules matches anymore. That was a regularly sanctioned match. I lost, the jobber won, congratulations, I wish him luck in the tournament."
"You think this is a joke?" his scaley tail curling angrily at me, "Well you know what, I'm glad went down like that because now I can sleep well tonight knowing that no matter what happens you will not be the All-Extreme World Champion."
"Excuse me? The All-Extreme World Championship is no longer extreme--"
"This is not garbage wrestling, this is GRR! There's no room for garbage cans, kendo sticks, and barbed wire in wrestling. I know you and your friends did that back in the day to get yourselves noticed, well now that you are noticed you are going to have to change. You're going to have to actually wrestle!" His yellow eyes were turning red.
"We do wrestle! Using weapons elevates our matches--"
"Weapons make for garbage wrestling!" Armahdo shouted as he got right up in my face. Even the trainer and security guys are starting to look concerned, "There will be absolutely no weapons anywhere for our shows. No chairs around ringside, nothing under the ring, no weapons anywhere for you to use. This is wrestling and it's going to stay that way. The past few months I have been very afraid of those matches, our talent has been getting hurt and it's costing the company money.
"Brian Hunter has a deep gash on his chest that was very close to hitting his lung, and it's going to be two months until he's going to be able to get back in the ring, if even that."
I tried to take a deep breath and speak to him calmly, "All of us get hurt sometimes, the possibility of getting injured just comes with the territory. We all know that when we decide to become wrestlers, and the fans love the hardcore matches, I love it, hell even the other wrestlers love it. The same wrestlers that are getting smashed in the face with a garbage can and getting their tooth cracked from a shot with a kendo stick all say they would gladly do it again because they love it and they know that our fans appreciate them for it, the only person who thinks this is garbage wrestling is you."
"No, no, this is what the board of directors told me, Ms. Draxa, the CEO of the company made the ruling, there will be no more weapons."
I growl and clinch my fists. I am ready to grab him by the throat but I try to keep my cool but it wasn't working, mu teeth started to show. He backs up for a second and adjusts his tie with his nose up at me, "Now, I just received another message from the board of directors a few minutes ago and they have brought something new to my attention. To make this work we are going to have to make one more change. Since weapons are no longer allowed on All-Extreme they see absolutely no use for the Hardcore Championship."
I look down at the title around my shoulder. I could already see what was happening.
"Oh come on, you can't be serious," I said.
He smiles, "Yes, we are officially deactivating the GRR Hardcore Championship. It's a failed experiment."
I stomp my foot on the floor, "Oh come on, what the fuck are you doing?! You're turning this show into a damn joke!"
"This show is a damn joke!" He points a finger at me, "This show has been a joke for far too long, but now that I am in charge, I'm going to start making some changes and make this show into a high-quality wrestling product. Like that stunt you pulled out there tonight?"
"Yeah?" I said.
"I can't just let that slide, so I am going to have to take action."
"Yeah, like what?" I said with my chest all puffed out. "Put me in another damn tournament?"
"Okay, that kind of backtalk is one of the reasons I'm doing this in the first place. Because as of right now you are hereby suspended for thirty days, without pay."
"What?!" I said dropping my championship to the floor.
"Yep, thirty days, effective right now. Security?" He says as he motions to the two security guards. They start walking toward me and they hold on to each one of my shoulders, "Security, get him out of here," he says.
They both hold my arms down but I don't struggle, "Hey! Hey! It's okay guys," I say to the guards, "It's okay," I say again as they let me go. "You know what Armahdo, don't worry about the thirty days, just go ahead and make it indefinite," I pick up my hardcore championship belt, "I'm out of here."
TO BE CONTINUED . . .