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We're just 24 hours away from The Wrestling Domain's biggest show in a long time. A show headlined by a match that has single-handedly turned the Tag Team Titles into a Main Event title. Tag Team Turmoil. The words on the lips of all TWD fans and most of it's wrestlers. They anticipation is overwhelming, the hype at a fever pitch. Realistically, it doesn't need any more promotion. But Jamie Krenshaw is intent on this show being watched by as many people as possible. After all, with perhaps both TWD Titles within his reach, this Supercard is Jamie Krenshaw's night to shine. As he continues on the PR Trail, he cordially invites you to join in the festivities and watch him skyrocket to prominence.
Standing before a gathered audience is the "Virtuoso of Violence" Jamie Krenshaw. Dressed formally in suit and tie, Jamie stands behind a podium ready to give a press conference. Sitting on the podium is a lovely framed picture of Jamie's wife and child, their glowing, smiling faces radiating back at you, a glimpse of the happiness and love you're never likely to find. Amassed before Jamie is a throng of dishevelled, virginal manchildren who call themselves wrestling "journalists". They all wait eagerly with notebooks in hand, keen to get exciting quotes they can post on their ridiculous blogs and "news" sites. Jamie casts a weary eye over the assemblage before leaning into the microphone and gently massaging them with his sultry voice.
JAMIE: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I am a man who needs no introduction but allow me to introduce the show I'm spruiking.
Jamie turns and gestures behind him to a large poster promoting Supercard II. He waits a moment before returning his gaze to the audience.
JAMIE: Supercard II is only 24 hours away and I'm gifting all of you with my presence in order to make one last pitch to all wrestling fans to order this show. Now, we all know that this is a one match show. Nobody outside of JENT. or Jamaica could give two shits about the World Title match. After all, it's redundant because whoever wins is just a placeholder for when I choose to use my Champion's Case. That being said, despite Supercard II being a one-match show, that one match is going to be the match of the year. Seriously, if you do not order this show, you will be missing out on this year's best match, hands down.
Jamie takes a breather and allows his pitch to sink in.
JAMIE: Now, this isn't just a forum for me to advertise at you. This is a press conference and as such I am happy to field questions from you...
Jamie tries to hide his disgust as he looks at the wretched parasites, nerds who leech off the business in order to feel important and "in the know".
JAMIE: People. So, without further adieu, please, ask what you will.
There is a brief explosion of verbiage as people try to make their questions heard. Jamie eventually hushes them down by pointing at one person.
JAMIE: You, the bespectacled man wearing a Randy Orton T-shirt, you have a question?
The bespectacled man stands up.
BESPECTACLED MAN: Yes, first of all, Jamie, let me just say how much of an honour it is to...
JAMIE: Get to the question, four-eyes. You can blow smoke up my arse later.
BESPECTACLED MAN: (a little taken aback) Colt Crawford and Saber have just recently won the Tag Team Titles. Do you think they have been hard done by, with their first title match being a multi-man match featuring so many stars against them?
Jamie's face contorts with disgust.
JAMIE: Do I think they've been hard done by? What show are you watching? Or have you been watching without your glasses? Ever since coming into this promotion, Saber and Colt Crawford have done nothing but ride Brian Clark's coat tails and use his reputation to spur their own careers. They wouldn't have even received a Tag Title shot if it weren't for Clark's politicking. They are lucky to be champs at all and if they can't successfully defend against a multitude of opponents, then no, they're not hard done by. They're just not championship material. Next question.
The throng are now silent, just obediently putting their hands up like schoolchildren anxiously waiting for wisdom. Jamie points out one of the men (and hey, everyone in the audience is a man, interesting that, isn't it?)
JAMIE: The guy with the military-issue haircut and a bunch of horrible "tribal" tattooes, your question?
The tattooed man stands up and speaks dumbly with a southern drawl.
TATTOOED MAN: Heya Jaymeh. My name a' Skeeter and I have a queshun what you to answer.
Jamie's stunned, confused grimace says more than words ever could.
TATTOOED MAN: The po-lice man put me in the jail when I punch my sister, Briterny, but you're all okay to punch Shabree Freytag. Can I punch her too?
Jamie's facial expression has not changed at all.
JAMIE: By all means, if you can find her, punch her in the vag for all I care. Next question... you, the skinny guy with sperm stains on your hands.
The skinny guy stands up and nervously glances at his hands. He takes a wet piece of toilet paper out of his jacket and wipes away the evidence. He quickly put the soggy TP back into his pocket and addresses Mr. Krenshaw.
SPERM HANDS: Do you think the loss of Tommy O'Malley will unsettle Filipe Barroqueiro's preparations for the match?
JAMIE: Put simply, of course. Filipe Barroqueiro had done nothing until he was united with Tommy O'Malley. O'Malley was the fire in that team, he had all the potential, now thanks to the Freytag Effect, he's gone. Tough luck but the Irish are used to that by now. Filipe, however, has been left with a last minute replacement and has to somehow put together a new strategy. It's not going to happen. Him and O'Malley had no chance going into the match. Now, he may as well not even show up.
SPERM HANDS: Q: But he does have a substantial replacement partner in Eno Redrum?
JAMIE: Really? Substantial? I don't sweat Eno Redrum. As he said himself in his last promo, I've beaten him for World Titles before. Yeah, sure, he held the title here for nearly a year but that doesn't mean anything. Who was his competition? He never had to defend that title against me. He never defended it against Krunch. He just wrestled perennial failure Jahmon Rastafari and benefitted from the Juggernaut Gang Bang that kept him and his friends at the top of the card. Ever since I got here, I have been higher on the pecking order than Eno Redrum or any of his old pals. He made a point in his last promo to say that he's focused. Eno would be better off applying that focus to things he has a chance of achieving. Like wrestling Kingpin and Marcus T another fifty thousand times or something. Next question, please.
Jamie again casts his gaze over the crowd of hopefuls. He points at one.
JAMIE: You, the portly, bearded gentleman with the Stone Cold t-shirt, what do you want to ask me?
The man stands up.
PORTLY GENT: Jamie, who do you think are your biggest threats in the match?
Jamie doesn't even need a second to think before firing back his answer.
JAMIE: Krunch and myself. Simply put, the only way Krunch and I lose is if we don't perform to our own lofty standards and that isn't going to happen. At our best, we are unstoppable. Seperate we are undefeated in this company, together we are undefeatable no matter who we face. Realistically, Krunch and I at 50% are still 50% better than the competition. Next question... you, the guy dressed in the latest fashions, a bit too muscular for your own body, desperately trying to hide that you're just a pathetic nerd who gets off on half-naked men groping each other, what's your question?
The slightly offended nerd stands.
OFFENDED NERD: The Freytag Effect have burst onto the scene in TWD. What do you make of them?
JAMIE: Well on Sunday I'll make minced meat out of them. But thus far? Well, firstly "burst onto the scene"? Really? Last I checked, attacking people from behind, distributing DVDs and cutting "hilarious" promos backstage doesn't count as making an impact. You want to talk about bursting onto the scene? What about me? What about Krunch? We came into this company and have dominated all who've been put before us. I single-handedly defeated over half the roster in a Parking Lot Brawl. That is bursting onto the scene. Freytag and Shabree, all they've done is yabber on about their skills whilst actually displaying none. They're all talk and after Supercard, they'll be forced to acknowledge that.
The "stylishly" dressed nerd is obviously a Freytag fan. He blurts back defensively:
OFFENDED NERD: Well, The Freytag Effect claim they're at an advantage due to the fact that most teams in this match are makeshift and lack the cohesion required to become Tag Team champions. Do you think there is any validity to that claim?
JAMIE: Did you read that off a press release? Who talks like that? Anyway, maybe there's validity to that claim, in some respects. Eno and Filipe will obviously lack cohesion. Brent Kersh has nobody to be cohesive with. Insult To Injury probably don't know what cohesion means. Saber and Crawford's relationship threatens to explode into violence or rough gay sex at any moment. That just leaves Krunch and I and The Freytag Effect. Yes, Krunch and I are fairly new as a team but we're also the best in the world at this game. The Freytag Effect, have they honestly been a team much longer than us? I couldn't tell you. As much as Shabree likes to imagine she's made an impact in this business, before she kicked O'Malley in the head, I'd never heard of her. Ditto to Chris Freytag. Regardless of how long they've been a team, they still don't stand a chance. Simply put, men are stronger than women and Shabree can only protect Chris Freytag so long.
A sly grin from the Virtuoso.
JAMIE: All right, only a few more questions. You, the guy with the face like a bucket of smashed pies, what've you got?
The ugly, ugly man rises to address his more beautiful superior.
UGLY MAN: Brent Kersh is a lone combatant in this match. Does he have any chance at all?
Jamie shakes his head.
JAMIE: Nobody in the match has any chance at all other than me and Krunch. The match itself is redundant because the outcome is not in doubt.
UGLY MAN: But if the "unthinkable" happens?
JAMIE: Look, Brent Kersh can get it done in the ring, that's undeniable. I know I had my fun last week cracking wise about how boring he is but really, that joke in itself is getting more tiresome than any of his promos. Kersh can wrestle but at the end of the day, he's just one man. Krunch and I are the greatest tandem in Tag Team history and we will not be beaten.
Jamie takes a second to glance at his watch.
JAMIE: I've almost fulfilled my time slot so one more question. You, idiot.
Jamie points at a fairly regular looking person. Feelings slightly hurt, the man stands and asks:
IDIOT: Jamie, will you be using your Champion's Case on Sunday?
Jamie grins.
JAMIE: Aw, that would spoil the surprise. All I'll say is that after Sunday, the fans and wrestlers of this company will be forced to acknowledge that I am the top of the pecking order and they all bow to me. With that said, please, order the show and watch as I claim my rightful place on top of this company. You've been honoured to ask me questions and I've been gracious to answer them. Goodbye!
With this, Jamie grabs the framed photo of his wife and child and walks away, the "journalists" still asking various questions. He ignores them all, more pressing issues on his mind.
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 Worship me, heathen. |