Post by Chris Strike on Aug 7, 2010 22:05:48 GMT -5
NOTE: Credit and much love to James for all of the dialogue provided for Chris Hart.
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Days passed since Chris Strike got the news that his first match at Kingdom of Pride would be the main event of the evening and not to mention, that it paired him against his former nemesis in tag team competition Chris Hart against two newcomers in John D. Parker and Steven Watson Carter. All of it without having even signed an official contract to Kingdom of Pride, at least, until a few minutes ago. For the door that Strike just shut close was that of Kingdom of Pride’s co-owner Kurt Noble, who now had Strike officially under contract – a surprisingly nice amount per month too, especially when given this was the independent scene – and with that in mind, all that the self-proclaimed God of Thunder needed to worry about was whatever the front office could throw in his path.
His first obstacles: John D. Parker and Steven Watson Carter. From his studies of the two Oblivion events that ran before “Return of the Kingdom,” both men look to be formidable foes, from Parker’s unexpected, surprising style and not to mention, perhaps THE best-looking and most effective small package he has ever seen in this business to Carter’s powerhouse, smash mouth brawler style combined with a build most wrestlers could kill in order to possess. However, it was nothing that the “God of Thunder” Chris Strike could deal with on his own and then, of course, there was the fact this was a tag team match.
He groaned at the prospect of this main event. Tag team matches had never been his favorite, because it involved alliances with different fellows with much different agendas than Strike’s own and that could sometimes cause problems. There is a reason why Bryan Cade and Lyn Dallins had been the only men he ever trusted to team with and even those pairings took time to gel and turn into a good pairing. Noticing a Pepsi vending machine on the main hallway of the Cookeville Community Center and given the fact he could use some sort of distraction from his distaste of tag team matches, Strike walked over to the machine and out of the pockets of his black dress pants – he was in a full three-piece suit and wore a gold Rolex to boot – produced about ten quarters. Inserting them all in, Strike then pressed the button with the bright, shining picture of a Mountain Dew and seconds later, the plastic bottle dropped down with a heavy thud on the opening below.
Satisfied with his choice, Chris reached down for the bottle, grasped in his hands and immediately opened the cap. As he took his first gulp, his chocolate-brown eyes noticed another person walking into the main hallway of the Cookeville Community Center and of all people to expect, the Kingdom of Pride’s Valiant champion sporting a white t-shirt with the Calgary Flames logo, blue denim jeans, a duffel bag on his left shoulder and a certain piece of hardware around his right shoulder made Chris Hart one of the more unlikely people Strike could have ran into – at least, in this part of the early afternoon, where the ring crew hadn’t even started getting set-up yet. Then again, it gave the God of Thunder a chance to converse with the youngster for a little while and not delay that until before the show, when their intensity levels were bound to pick up and butting heads was made so much easier due to the concentration of testosterone around the entire locker room.
Approaching Hart, Strike couldn’t help but to whistle – after all, Hart proudly had the KoP Valiant title around his right shoulder and the hardware just looked…damn good. Probably would look better around his godly shoulder, but that was another matter. “It may have been only a month passed since I last saw you...but what a difference time makes, Hart,” remarked Strike, not hesitating to take this sudden meeting to spark a conversation with his tag team partner later tonight and to pick at the young prodigy’s brain in the process. “Becoming Kingdom of Pride’s first Valiant champion since its rebirth and standing on the top of the mountain…must feel good.”
Hart beamed, clearly loving the word ‘champion’ associated with him. “Well, let's be honest. After beating you - what was it, three times - you couldn't expect less, could you?” he asked, a cocky grin surging in his lips, almost as if time had stopped and both men were still locked in their old battles in Pro Wrestling FIRE.
“Out of the King of Harts? Really, if my expectations were at its usual, you'd be wearing your title as it is and Scramble gold along with Noble somehow,” Strike grinned back at Hart, defiance blazing in his gaze at the Kingdom’s Valiant champion. “But let us not forget...the score is three-to-two here. By Stanley Cup playoff rules, we still have a Game 6 to play at some point, Hart.”
“Get in line Chris,” said Hart with a smile. “I'm already up to my neck in people clamoring for a shot at the title. Eagles, Storm, hell…even Christian Kane decided to come out of the woodwork and make a statement, sadly at my expense.”
Strike blinked twice, clearly confused by Chris Hart’s last statement. “Christian Kane…is employed and actually doing something besides fucking women?” He raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his Mountain Dew in the process. Once he gulped the Dew down, Strike scratched his head. “That is surprising. No, really. He always struck me as a lazy bum with no skill and a lot of bark.”
“Apparently Kurt's skills aren't strictly related to the ring I suppose,” remarked Hart, albeit the look in his eyes told the world that it didn’t make Christian Kane’s attempt to embarrass him at Return of the Kingdom any better.
“Worried at all about what you might catch grappling with him?” asked Strike cheekily.
Hart could only help but to smile at the audacity of his partner to be. “Wouldn't you?”
Strike nodded in agreement, the depths of his mind shuddering at the mere thought of having to wrestle the self-proclaimed Caucasian Sensation. “Yeah, it makes me wonder if I should bust out my full body suit from when I wrestled in Mexico years ago if I have face him someday,” he remarked, quite aware of the multiple list of Christian Kane's acquired diseases over the years. “Seriously, I wonder if anyone's bothered calling hazmat on that fella.”
“Ha!” Hart couldn’t help but to laugh, having another quick response to this last bit of conversation out of the God of Thunder. “It's coming out of your salary if they do.”
“It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make if someone does,” Strike chuckled for a moment, before shifting gears to a more immediate subject. “So we are teamed up this week against John Parker and Steven…Carter, was it? I tried doing a bit of research on those two the last few days, but there isn't much on either one of these guys.”
Hart nodded, quite aware that both John D. Parker and Steven Watson Carter were not the most known wrestlers on the block – but not doubting their abilities to use Kingdom of Pride as their starting point to fame. “I wouldn't doubt it. As far as I know both of them are fresh, Kingdom of Pride their first experience in front of a live audience. That doesn't mean I'm taking them lightly. Watson Carter's been impressive considering the talent he's faced up and too this point and Parker, crazy as he may be, has managed to collect a winning streak on par with mine.”
“Well, that's good news. They paired us up with a tag team that does have some talent,” Strike took another sip of his Mountain Dew and then flashed Hart a sly grin once he gulped it down. “However, when it comes to tag team experience and a main event match like this...I am a firm believer that neither of those two can stand toe-to-toe with us.”
Chris begins to rock slowly back and forth on his heels, a snarky response on the edge of his tongue, the history with the man standing across from him running through his mind. ‘This is a new start for all of us. Any problems we might have back then should stay there, buried, not out in the open bringing down Kingdom of Pride before it has a chance to get off the ground.’ Finishing his own inner thought, Hart nodded at Strike who continued to stand coolly with the refreshing yellow liquid in his hand, still waiting for Hart to chime in. “Yeah, we've covered a lot of ground between the two of us.”
Wiping away a small strand of hair from his eyesight with his left hand, Strike nodded back. He was glad that the youngster could see past their history, at least for tonight. It made things easier. “I agree. While the past between us hasn't smelled like roses, I don't hold any sort of grudges. It'll be an honor to team with the best wrestler in the world...” An even bigger grin surged on Chris Strike's lips, almost as if this was some sort of inside joke. “Well, the best wrestler in the world not named me, of course.”
Hart raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat in the process. “I think you were right the first time, kid.”
Strike shook his head, laughing at the fact he just got called ‘kid’ by a freaking twenty-year-old. “Don't be getting too big a head now, Hart. You may be my successor to that title by some odd, deity-complex logic in my head, but that doesn't mean you're taking that crown from me any time soon.” Once the laughter stopped, he extended his right hand towards the Kingdom's Valiant champion. When push came to shove, Hart was one of the toughest opponents Strike ever had the pleasure of wrestling and quite frankly, he was still young and getting better with each passing day. “Regardless, I am looking forward to seeing how much stronger you've become since we last met in the ring...champ!”
Chris Hart looked at the hand, a natural moment of hesitation all things considered before taking it firmly in his grasp. “It'll be a pleasure to share the ring with you again and this time, not be on the receiving end of The God of Thunder’s wrath.”
The firm handshake between the two could be considered a new bridge built, one that further increased the respect that Strike already held for the young Hart and vice versa – something that started from PWF’s The Empire Strikes Back Pay-Per-View event. A few seconds later, Strike managed a small smile one last time at the champ's direction before breaking off the handshake. “Too bad for Park & Cart - they get to be on the end of that wrath.” With a sly grin on his lips, Strike gives Hart’s hand one last firm shake of his own, nodding at him. “Be seeing you later tonight then, champ?”
Hart nodded back, breaking off the handshake and looking over at the hallway behind Strike – probably where he was planning to go before this impromptu meeting. “I’ll be there, don’t worry.”
Without another word, Chris Hart walked past Chris Strike and down the same hallway that led to Kurt Noble’s office. Once out of sight, Chris looked at his right hand for a few seconds, transfixed by what occurred. While the PWF Wrestling World Cup had been a fantastic achievement and one that enabled his little world tour, the “God of Thunder” hadn’t worn gold around his waist in quite some time. While tonight he would honor Chris Hart with his usual match of the night performance and win his debut match in Kingdom of Pride, well, Strike’s mind flashed to a distant future. It was a clear future, one where he saw himself wearing that twenty-pound piece of Valiant gold around his waist and being Kingdom of Pride’s beaming champion, being Kingdom of Pride’s most wanted man and being on top of the world in the process. To put this in a more mythological perspective, Chris Strike’s climb up Mount Olympus started here. A win against Park & Cart – although lame, the name for that tag team worked in Strike’s mind just as well as Posh & Becks did for the English tabloids years ago – brought him one step closer. A loss kept him buried under the rubble and staring at the stars on the rise. It was time for the God of Thunder to arrive in the Kingdom, climb up its rankings and in the future, to wear the crown and become a champion once again!
Strike gulped down the remainder of his Mountain Dew and tossed its empty container at a trash can, hitting the rim at a perfect enough angle for it to sink down to the black, massive bag of garbage below it. Showtime was near and he needed to get ready.
He just hoped John Parker and Steven Carter were ready to get lightning struck…
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Days passed since Chris Strike got the news that his first match at Kingdom of Pride would be the main event of the evening and not to mention, that it paired him against his former nemesis in tag team competition Chris Hart against two newcomers in John D. Parker and Steven Watson Carter. All of it without having even signed an official contract to Kingdom of Pride, at least, until a few minutes ago. For the door that Strike just shut close was that of Kingdom of Pride’s co-owner Kurt Noble, who now had Strike officially under contract – a surprisingly nice amount per month too, especially when given this was the independent scene – and with that in mind, all that the self-proclaimed God of Thunder needed to worry about was whatever the front office could throw in his path.
His first obstacles: John D. Parker and Steven Watson Carter. From his studies of the two Oblivion events that ran before “Return of the Kingdom,” both men look to be formidable foes, from Parker’s unexpected, surprising style and not to mention, perhaps THE best-looking and most effective small package he has ever seen in this business to Carter’s powerhouse, smash mouth brawler style combined with a build most wrestlers could kill in order to possess. However, it was nothing that the “God of Thunder” Chris Strike could deal with on his own and then, of course, there was the fact this was a tag team match.
He groaned at the prospect of this main event. Tag team matches had never been his favorite, because it involved alliances with different fellows with much different agendas than Strike’s own and that could sometimes cause problems. There is a reason why Bryan Cade and Lyn Dallins had been the only men he ever trusted to team with and even those pairings took time to gel and turn into a good pairing. Noticing a Pepsi vending machine on the main hallway of the Cookeville Community Center and given the fact he could use some sort of distraction from his distaste of tag team matches, Strike walked over to the machine and out of the pockets of his black dress pants – he was in a full three-piece suit and wore a gold Rolex to boot – produced about ten quarters. Inserting them all in, Strike then pressed the button with the bright, shining picture of a Mountain Dew and seconds later, the plastic bottle dropped down with a heavy thud on the opening below.
Satisfied with his choice, Chris reached down for the bottle, grasped in his hands and immediately opened the cap. As he took his first gulp, his chocolate-brown eyes noticed another person walking into the main hallway of the Cookeville Community Center and of all people to expect, the Kingdom of Pride’s Valiant champion sporting a white t-shirt with the Calgary Flames logo, blue denim jeans, a duffel bag on his left shoulder and a certain piece of hardware around his right shoulder made Chris Hart one of the more unlikely people Strike could have ran into – at least, in this part of the early afternoon, where the ring crew hadn’t even started getting set-up yet. Then again, it gave the God of Thunder a chance to converse with the youngster for a little while and not delay that until before the show, when their intensity levels were bound to pick up and butting heads was made so much easier due to the concentration of testosterone around the entire locker room.
Approaching Hart, Strike couldn’t help but to whistle – after all, Hart proudly had the KoP Valiant title around his right shoulder and the hardware just looked…damn good. Probably would look better around his godly shoulder, but that was another matter. “It may have been only a month passed since I last saw you...but what a difference time makes, Hart,” remarked Strike, not hesitating to take this sudden meeting to spark a conversation with his tag team partner later tonight and to pick at the young prodigy’s brain in the process. “Becoming Kingdom of Pride’s first Valiant champion since its rebirth and standing on the top of the mountain…must feel good.”
Hart beamed, clearly loving the word ‘champion’ associated with him. “Well, let's be honest. After beating you - what was it, three times - you couldn't expect less, could you?” he asked, a cocky grin surging in his lips, almost as if time had stopped and both men were still locked in their old battles in Pro Wrestling FIRE.
“Out of the King of Harts? Really, if my expectations were at its usual, you'd be wearing your title as it is and Scramble gold along with Noble somehow,” Strike grinned back at Hart, defiance blazing in his gaze at the Kingdom’s Valiant champion. “But let us not forget...the score is three-to-two here. By Stanley Cup playoff rules, we still have a Game 6 to play at some point, Hart.”
“Get in line Chris,” said Hart with a smile. “I'm already up to my neck in people clamoring for a shot at the title. Eagles, Storm, hell…even Christian Kane decided to come out of the woodwork and make a statement, sadly at my expense.”
Strike blinked twice, clearly confused by Chris Hart’s last statement. “Christian Kane…is employed and actually doing something besides fucking women?” He raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his Mountain Dew in the process. Once he gulped the Dew down, Strike scratched his head. “That is surprising. No, really. He always struck me as a lazy bum with no skill and a lot of bark.”
“Apparently Kurt's skills aren't strictly related to the ring I suppose,” remarked Hart, albeit the look in his eyes told the world that it didn’t make Christian Kane’s attempt to embarrass him at Return of the Kingdom any better.
“Worried at all about what you might catch grappling with him?” asked Strike cheekily.
Hart could only help but to smile at the audacity of his partner to be. “Wouldn't you?”
Strike nodded in agreement, the depths of his mind shuddering at the mere thought of having to wrestle the self-proclaimed Caucasian Sensation. “Yeah, it makes me wonder if I should bust out my full body suit from when I wrestled in Mexico years ago if I have face him someday,” he remarked, quite aware of the multiple list of Christian Kane's acquired diseases over the years. “Seriously, I wonder if anyone's bothered calling hazmat on that fella.”
“Ha!” Hart couldn’t help but to laugh, having another quick response to this last bit of conversation out of the God of Thunder. “It's coming out of your salary if they do.”
“It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make if someone does,” Strike chuckled for a moment, before shifting gears to a more immediate subject. “So we are teamed up this week against John Parker and Steven…Carter, was it? I tried doing a bit of research on those two the last few days, but there isn't much on either one of these guys.”
Hart nodded, quite aware that both John D. Parker and Steven Watson Carter were not the most known wrestlers on the block – but not doubting their abilities to use Kingdom of Pride as their starting point to fame. “I wouldn't doubt it. As far as I know both of them are fresh, Kingdom of Pride their first experience in front of a live audience. That doesn't mean I'm taking them lightly. Watson Carter's been impressive considering the talent he's faced up and too this point and Parker, crazy as he may be, has managed to collect a winning streak on par with mine.”
“Well, that's good news. They paired us up with a tag team that does have some talent,” Strike took another sip of his Mountain Dew and then flashed Hart a sly grin once he gulped it down. “However, when it comes to tag team experience and a main event match like this...I am a firm believer that neither of those two can stand toe-to-toe with us.”
Chris begins to rock slowly back and forth on his heels, a snarky response on the edge of his tongue, the history with the man standing across from him running through his mind. ‘This is a new start for all of us. Any problems we might have back then should stay there, buried, not out in the open bringing down Kingdom of Pride before it has a chance to get off the ground.’ Finishing his own inner thought, Hart nodded at Strike who continued to stand coolly with the refreshing yellow liquid in his hand, still waiting for Hart to chime in. “Yeah, we've covered a lot of ground between the two of us.”
Wiping away a small strand of hair from his eyesight with his left hand, Strike nodded back. He was glad that the youngster could see past their history, at least for tonight. It made things easier. “I agree. While the past between us hasn't smelled like roses, I don't hold any sort of grudges. It'll be an honor to team with the best wrestler in the world...” An even bigger grin surged on Chris Strike's lips, almost as if this was some sort of inside joke. “Well, the best wrestler in the world not named me, of course.”
Hart raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat in the process. “I think you were right the first time, kid.”
Strike shook his head, laughing at the fact he just got called ‘kid’ by a freaking twenty-year-old. “Don't be getting too big a head now, Hart. You may be my successor to that title by some odd, deity-complex logic in my head, but that doesn't mean you're taking that crown from me any time soon.” Once the laughter stopped, he extended his right hand towards the Kingdom's Valiant champion. When push came to shove, Hart was one of the toughest opponents Strike ever had the pleasure of wrestling and quite frankly, he was still young and getting better with each passing day. “Regardless, I am looking forward to seeing how much stronger you've become since we last met in the ring...champ!”
Chris Hart looked at the hand, a natural moment of hesitation all things considered before taking it firmly in his grasp. “It'll be a pleasure to share the ring with you again and this time, not be on the receiving end of The God of Thunder’s wrath.”
The firm handshake between the two could be considered a new bridge built, one that further increased the respect that Strike already held for the young Hart and vice versa – something that started from PWF’s The Empire Strikes Back Pay-Per-View event. A few seconds later, Strike managed a small smile one last time at the champ's direction before breaking off the handshake. “Too bad for Park & Cart - they get to be on the end of that wrath.” With a sly grin on his lips, Strike gives Hart’s hand one last firm shake of his own, nodding at him. “Be seeing you later tonight then, champ?”
Hart nodded back, breaking off the handshake and looking over at the hallway behind Strike – probably where he was planning to go before this impromptu meeting. “I’ll be there, don’t worry.”
Without another word, Chris Hart walked past Chris Strike and down the same hallway that led to Kurt Noble’s office. Once out of sight, Chris looked at his right hand for a few seconds, transfixed by what occurred. While the PWF Wrestling World Cup had been a fantastic achievement and one that enabled his little world tour, the “God of Thunder” hadn’t worn gold around his waist in quite some time. While tonight he would honor Chris Hart with his usual match of the night performance and win his debut match in Kingdom of Pride, well, Strike’s mind flashed to a distant future. It was a clear future, one where he saw himself wearing that twenty-pound piece of Valiant gold around his waist and being Kingdom of Pride’s beaming champion, being Kingdom of Pride’s most wanted man and being on top of the world in the process. To put this in a more mythological perspective, Chris Strike’s climb up Mount Olympus started here. A win against Park & Cart – although lame, the name for that tag team worked in Strike’s mind just as well as Posh & Becks did for the English tabloids years ago – brought him one step closer. A loss kept him buried under the rubble and staring at the stars on the rise. It was time for the God of Thunder to arrive in the Kingdom, climb up its rankings and in the future, to wear the crown and become a champion once again!
Strike gulped down the remainder of his Mountain Dew and tossed its empty container at a trash can, hitting the rim at a perfect enough angle for it to sink down to the black, massive bag of garbage below it. Showtime was near and he needed to get ready.
He just hoped John Parker and Steven Carter were ready to get lightning struck…
