Post by gzavadak on May 18, 2013 17:45:42 GMT -5
(OOC: Well, folks, here it is. The first RP in the T-ACT Cup tournament. Figured I'd post it here for your enjoyment. Keep in mind, it's more of an introductory nature.)
Scene 1 – Birmingham First Baptist Church, Birmingham, Alabama, Present Day
The scene opens to the sanctuary of a well-off church. Dozens of rows of red mahogany pews sit on a thickly carpeted floor. The room is marked by several ornate stained glass windows, and the light flowing through these windows on this late spring Sunday morning is tinted accordingly, of course dependent on the window it comes through. The pews are full of parishioners, each wearing their Sunday best, be it a well-pressed suit or a sun dress. At the front of the room sit approximately thirty five men and women of all ages in long flowing red choir robes. Each is holding a hymnal. All of sudden, the church organ begins to play the intro of a familiar hymn, “Here I Am Lord.” The members of the choir rise, as do the rest of the members of the congregation.
As the sanctuary begins to fill with the tunes of the hymn, two individuals enter the sanctuary at the back from the narthex, and begin to walk down the aisle. One man is a tall and stocky African American man. He is wearing a black suit and white shirt, and has a pair of sunglasses on. He is accompanied by a rather imposing figure. This man is wearing a long, all-white set of pastoral robes. He is carrying a Bible in his left hand. But, the most staunch detail of this man lies directly on his face. The right side is completely normal, but the left side is covered by a white mask that looks like it came straight from a Broadway rendition of Phantom of the Opera. The mask is also emblazoned with an eerily detailed and symbolic black crucifix in the center of the forehead. Both men continue to sing along with the choir and the rest of the congregation until they come to front of the sanctuary. The black man goes to the right lectern and takes a seat next to it, while his masked companion does the same on the left. Once the hymn ends, the masked man motions for the members of the choir and the rest of the congregation to have a seat. They all do so, and the masked pastor steps up to the lectern. He sets his Bible down, and pulls out a prepared sermon from behind the lectern. He then begins to speak.
Pastor: Brothers and sisters of the faithful, let me first start off by thanking each and every one of you for gathering on today, the Lord’s Day, for what will most definitely be another spiritually fulfilling session of worship. You’re probably wondering about the change of program, as I’m not the usual shepherd of your flock, so let me put forth a formal clarification.
I am the Reverend Jerry Matthews, and I normally serve as the pastor of Redemption Baptist Church, a quaint rural suburb about 20 minutes west of Birmingham. I had previously been called to serve as the pastor of this congregation around twenty years ago. And, from a look out into the crowd, it would seem that a lot of the friends I had made during my time here have either passed on or gone on to hopefully greener pastures.
Unfortunately, my congregation has been the victim of a heinous assault on our house of worship. A few weeks ago, one of my fiercest in-ring rivals, Ryan “The Reaper” Robinson, and members of his stable, Team Lethality, deemed it necessary to burn down my church as payment for some of the “atrocities” that I had committed against them. Yet, they didn’t stop there. Another of his associates, one Aurora Rose, chose to badly burn my face with a fireball. I was laid out for hours of facial reconstructive surgery, and am now required to wear this mask until it is deemed safe to remove. It truly is a sad thing when an ordained man of God is subjected to such disgusting attacks, simply because of my beliefs. Can I get an amen?
Several members of the congregation shout out an “Amen.”
Matthews: Thankfully, our congregation had been fundraising for the past several years to properly construct a house of worship that was more reflective of our faith. While our old church was lost, the money was safely deposited in one of the banks downtown. And, now that we are without the old, I am proud to announce that we will be breaking ground on our new building site. And, let me assure you, it would be the honor of mine and the rest of the Redemption Baptist congregation if any of you would choose to join us on that day.
Some of the members of the congregation begin a round of applause at the good news. Soon, a vast majority of the full house join in as well. Matthews soaks in the well wishes for a few seconds, before raising his right hand as a gesture for the crowd to quiet down. The applause runs for a few more seconds, and then the previous silence returns.
Matthews: Thank you for the well wishes, for it reminds me of the true goodness that exists among all of God’s flocks. And, this will not be the last time that you see me. For the denominational board has decreed that I will serve as your pastor temporarily until our new church is constructed. And, I can already tell that this will be a time that I know I will cherish until God the Father calls me to join the rest of his servants in the Great Beyond.
But, enough is enough of that. Given the recent circumstances that have followed me in my wrestling career in the past few months, I figured that an appropriate message for this week would entail the struggles any member of the faithful faces on a daily basis in the ever sinful world we live in today. And, there is no better biblical example than one of God’s most steadfast servants than Daniel.
I will not bore you on the excruciating details of the story of Daniel, as I’m sure that most of you, if not all of you, are already familiar with it, but I will provide a quick recap. The bottom line is despite all of the threats that were made against him, Daniel would not renounce the one and only true God, even when he threatened with death. And, his faith served as an impenetrable armor when he was thrown before the lions in an arena filled with bloodthirsty heathens who wanted nothing more than to see the death of a faithful Christian. However, they were vastly disappointed when the lions refused to attack him. Naturally, this sparked curiosity among the leaders who had sentenced Daniel to death. But, these sinners met with the fate they had reserved for the Lord’s servant, as the next men who stepped into the den were torn limb from limb.
So, the question is: what type of lesson can we take from this story? Well, brothers and sisters, the answer is quite obvious. No matter what the circumstances, no matter who will try and get you to capitulate on your faith, you must deny them. Because, if your faith is steadfast and true, no harm can come to you. That harm is reserved for those that would choose to persecute you, to those who directly defy the name of the Good Lord Jesus Christ and God the Father. For those who don’t what it is to have a conviction nearly as strong as the universal truth we’ve come to accept. And that truth is that there is only one God, the Christian God, and that he loved the world and man so much that he gave his one and only begotten son, the one and only Savior Jesus Christ, so that we could be free from the burden of original sin to have a second chance at reserving a spot in everlasting paradise, and to take up the Way of the Cross.
So, when you leave here today, make sure you take a look at all of the murderers, adulterers, liars, cheaters and thieves. But, do not seek to strike them or harm them as they would seek to do to you. Without a direct order from God, you are no better than them. Instead, you must offer them the Good News, make them aware of God’s love, and that they do have a chance for redemption. If they do happen to deny you, fear not, because they will have to pay the piper eventually. And, whether it’s in this life or the next, they will meet their fate, and it will be one that is filled with eternal suffering in Satan’s pit of smoke and fire. They will be subjected to performing rather mundane tasks that have been made exponentially difficult. They will be cursed with a state of eternal hunger and thirst that can never be quenched, no matter how much they indulge in food and drink in that fiery chasm. And, it will be a fate that they have earned in every sense of the word, rather it was with their reluctance to accept the truth of the Gospels, or the deeds that they chose to perpetrate during their time here on earth. For, my friends, this is what is laid out in this most holy tome.
Matthews picks up his Bible and holds it above his head.
Matthews: Take these words as truth, and do everything in your power to live your life by it. Otherwise, you’ll have quite the amount of unpleasant company when your number is called. The Word of the Lord, Thanks Be to God.
With that, Matthews steps down from the lectern, and he is joined by his African American companion. Together, they walk down the aisle as the members of the choir rise as the organ’s pipes signal the beginning of another hymn. As the pair walk off screen, the scene then fades to black.
Scene 2 – Madison Square Garden, New York, New York, Present Day
The scene opens to the locker room of a certain pastor and competitor in the Second Annual Trans-Atlantic Cup, that of “The Evangelist” Jerry Matthews. He is seated on a bench in front of his locker, wearing a white suit and black dress shirt. He is also wearing his white mask. He has two title belts placed on either side of him, the PCW Platinum Championship and the EXODUS Pro San Diego Bay Championship. Both belts proudly display the preacher’s name at the bottom of their respective buckles, and the white light beaming from a single spotlight over Matthews’ head produces a shiny gleam.
Matthews: Brothers and sisters, allow me to first welcome you into my inner sanctum. Often I choose to keep my privacy rather closely guarded, given that it has become ever so difficult to find souls that you can truly place trust in. And, aside from my spiritual liaison, Deacon Jeremiah Robinson, and a certain select few of my closest parishioners, I am always reluctant to let my guard down. But, luckily for all of you, today I’ve made a notable exception.
So, let’s clear the obvious question everyone is no doubt asking themselves. Why is a good ole’, down home, Southern Baptist preacher doing competing in an exhibition as prestigious as the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament. Well, the answer is a rather simple one. I am the only participant that has been given a blank check from God himself to pursue an agenda that is the only one that can save humanity from the fate that ultimately awaits the vast majority of man, and that is a fiery Armageddon that will spawn the birth of the Antichrist and lead to the end of existence as we know it.
Believe me, to say I wasn’t taken aback when I was visited in my dreams by the Archangel Gabriel himself would be an understatement. I was especially shocked when he made me aware of the Father’s intentions for me. For, you see, while man may be his most beloved and cherished of all his creations, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t harbor resentment towards us. Despite all God has done for us, namely creating us and giving us the keys to one hell of an existence, far too many have gone on to continuously curse his name, violate even the most sacred of his commandments, and to generally live existences that go against everything he had in mind for us. And, it’s not as if he hasn’t taken it upon himself to punish man before. One need look no further than the fate of the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, or all the souls that perished when he chose to flood the entirety of existence, save for Noah and his immediate family.
Thankfully, this time, God has decided to give man one last and final chance. He sees that the world he spent so much time creating has been afflicted with a cancer, a cancer so serious that it threatens to end it all. This is where I come in. I represent the last chance that humanity has. The Father has called for a last hope treatment of radiation therapy, a final wake up call if you will. I am his chosen prophet, the man tasked with making sure that humanity realizes the error of its ways and finally takes up the mantle of the Lord. Otherwise, there is no telling how severe and ultimate the destruction of everything we know and hold dear will be.
The professional wrestling industry is the key to everything. Countless thousands, even millions of people every week tune in their televisions and scan the Internet for the latest issue of their favorite dirt sheet, all in an effort to learn what new has happened to their favorite superstars in their favorite promotions nationwide. Professional wrestlers are the modern equivalent of Rome’s gladiators, they are revered for putting their bodies and livelihoods on the line in their each and every match, all for the sake of the crowd’s enjoyment and the love of their craft.
Since I first laced up my boots and stepped into the squared circle, I’ve left many bodies lying in twisted heaps on the mat. All with the purpose of spreading my ministry of tough love and self-repentance. And, to say I’ve been successful doesn’t do my career justice. But, that’s not what this is about. Granted, title belts are great, and I do cherish both of my golden friends here, but it’s the extrinsic value they hold that I seek. The status they hold, the platform that they provide. By holding these belts, or any belt for that matter, it leads more fans to lend them your ears, and to pay proper attention to whatever message you may have for them on any given day.
That’s why I chose to compete in this year’s Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament. Some of the finest competitors from the industry’s biggest and most popular promotions in the industry will showcase their talents, all for the chance to hoist that trophy at the end of it all so they can have industry-wide bragging rights. An opportunity like this to spread my ministry doesn’t come up every day, and I would have been a fool to reject PCW owner Terrell Ryder’s overture to represent his company. While my ministry has been fairly successful, every man of God would love to share his message with a national congregation. And nothing will give me more enjoyment than showing the entire country what happens when you take the Lord’s name in vain, and decide to mess with one of his chosen instruments.
Tonight, just like when Daniel stepped ever so defiantly into the lion’s den, I am stepping into a veritable feeding frenzy. Eighteen other competitors, each with their own sinful behaviors and tendencies, each a suitable example to set for my new national flock.
Never before will I have stepped into the ring with so many women before. Lecherous harpies each and every one of them. Sinful Amazons that refuse to acknowledge that they are doing whatever they can to shun the role laid out for them by the Lord’s prophets. Maintaining a suitable home for their husband and caring for their offspring aren’t good enough for any of these ladies. I don’t care if it’s Roxi Johnson, Catherine Jewel, or Krystal Diamond for that matter. Each will learn that they have a role, and that they’d be well off to fulfill it.
Jester Smiles. The former hero that can’t stand that the fans of SHOOT Project have forgotten all about his past accomplishments, and how he defended their honor on so many occasions. Rather than be content with their adoration, he’s more satisfied to be so consumed by his own personal hubris that he believes he’s entitled to hear them screaming his name. Smiles is a mere archetype of every grizzled veteran past his prime who can’t stand the fact that he has been overtaken by better, stronger, faster and younger competition. It’s time that somebody puts this old dog out of his misery. I’ll make sure that I bring my shotgun.
Matt Reece. A current World Heavyweight Champion. Quite the accomplishment if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, it’s an honor that I have to say has eluded me throughout my career thus far. Trouble is, he’d have the people left in the dark on the fact that his World title is second-rate. Reece represents a mere developmental territory, he’s a small fish in a big pond. Tonight, we’ll see how he fares when he swims with the sharks. My bet is that he’ll sink rather than swim.
Hunter Maverick. A man living a delusion that he is the modern incarnation of a samurai. A product of the misguided teachings of Eastern philosophers like Sun Tzu and Confucius no doubt. He can spew all the bullshit he wants to about honor in combat and the like, but when I’m through with him, he’ll be more than willing to commit a public display of hara-kiri with whatever katana he has stowed away in his basement.
Xstatic. Not much needs to be said about this scumbag, he let himself get videotaped while he killed a New York City detective and causing a deadly explosion at a police station. Probably just another act to gain attention for the lack of love and attention he wanted to receive from his mother and father. No worries, Mr. Johnson. I’ll be more than happy to put you in a hospital bed for your parents to make as many trips as they want to watch you eating out of a feeding tube.
Buckson Gooch. The lovably stupid hog farmer from Arkansas. While the Lord was kind enough to bless him with quite the imposing physical stature and strength, there was a reason why he left this pig fucking redneck with nothing upstairs. Gooch’s chances of winning this battle royal will quickly go up in flames, because they’re no doubt already covered in pig shit.
C.J. Gates. The billionaire who has so much money that he could spend all day wiping his ass with $100 bills and still not have a care in the world. If he has spent even a few weeks in church, he no doubt knows the adage about how difficult it is for the rich man to make it into heaven. He’ll have a similar amount of difficulty in getting past me to win this battle royal. I’d rather try and fit the camel through the eye of the needle myself.
Johnny Clash. Yet another man who is convinced that he is the cat’s meow. Somehow, I find myself doubting that he has done anything to merit his overly inflated ego. He will be nothing more than another of the unfortunate souls who fails in their attempts to dethrone one of God’s chosen instruments.
Mephisto. This will be one of my personal favorites to deal with. A man that has established a pattern of manipulating the minds of the weak and downtrodden, all to accomplish whatever goals he sees fit. And, all the while, he is a self-avowed atheist. Fitting for a man who holds a belt representing the biggest cesspool in the United States. Mephisto needs the fear of God beaten into him, and I’ll be glad to oblige.
Valentine Lionheart is just like C.J. Gates, except he’s more twisted. Nothing is more sinful than a man who has all the earthly treasures one could hope for, and doesn’t even lift a finger to help his fellow man. That alone is enough grounds to punish Mr. Lionheart.
And, last but not least, I get to discuss Trey Baxter. Seems like the he has failed to do his research, claiming I won’t even make it to the actual tournament. How this heathen has never heard of me is almost beyond all comprehension. Needless to say, he talks a big game, and if you’d believe him, you’d think he’s already won. Beating sense into people like Baxter is one of my favorite pastimes. We’ll see who’s laughing when he ends up on the floor of Madison Square Garden.
Unlike all of these other competitors, I go in with the blessing of God. He has imbued me with physical gifts that the rest of the competition could only hope for. But, above it all, he imbued me with the blessing of being a soldier in the trenches, fighting for all his teachings. The chance to be a prophet, the man who single-handedly saved humanity. That is enough for me. I am God’s Broadsword, “The Evangelist” Jerry Matthews, and I am ready to cleave. Blood will be shed, and sweat and tears will be present, but only I, wearing the impenetrable armor of the Savior Jesus Christ, will be left standing tonight. The Word of the Lord, Thanks Be to God.
With that, Matthews rises, and crosses himself. He then gets down on one knee for a moment of prayer before the scene fades to black.
Scene 1 – Birmingham First Baptist Church, Birmingham, Alabama, Present Day
The scene opens to the sanctuary of a well-off church. Dozens of rows of red mahogany pews sit on a thickly carpeted floor. The room is marked by several ornate stained glass windows, and the light flowing through these windows on this late spring Sunday morning is tinted accordingly, of course dependent on the window it comes through. The pews are full of parishioners, each wearing their Sunday best, be it a well-pressed suit or a sun dress. At the front of the room sit approximately thirty five men and women of all ages in long flowing red choir robes. Each is holding a hymnal. All of sudden, the church organ begins to play the intro of a familiar hymn, “Here I Am Lord.” The members of the choir rise, as do the rest of the members of the congregation.
As the sanctuary begins to fill with the tunes of the hymn, two individuals enter the sanctuary at the back from the narthex, and begin to walk down the aisle. One man is a tall and stocky African American man. He is wearing a black suit and white shirt, and has a pair of sunglasses on. He is accompanied by a rather imposing figure. This man is wearing a long, all-white set of pastoral robes. He is carrying a Bible in his left hand. But, the most staunch detail of this man lies directly on his face. The right side is completely normal, but the left side is covered by a white mask that looks like it came straight from a Broadway rendition of Phantom of the Opera. The mask is also emblazoned with an eerily detailed and symbolic black crucifix in the center of the forehead. Both men continue to sing along with the choir and the rest of the congregation until they come to front of the sanctuary. The black man goes to the right lectern and takes a seat next to it, while his masked companion does the same on the left. Once the hymn ends, the masked man motions for the members of the choir and the rest of the congregation to have a seat. They all do so, and the masked pastor steps up to the lectern. He sets his Bible down, and pulls out a prepared sermon from behind the lectern. He then begins to speak.
Pastor: Brothers and sisters of the faithful, let me first start off by thanking each and every one of you for gathering on today, the Lord’s Day, for what will most definitely be another spiritually fulfilling session of worship. You’re probably wondering about the change of program, as I’m not the usual shepherd of your flock, so let me put forth a formal clarification.
I am the Reverend Jerry Matthews, and I normally serve as the pastor of Redemption Baptist Church, a quaint rural suburb about 20 minutes west of Birmingham. I had previously been called to serve as the pastor of this congregation around twenty years ago. And, from a look out into the crowd, it would seem that a lot of the friends I had made during my time here have either passed on or gone on to hopefully greener pastures.
Unfortunately, my congregation has been the victim of a heinous assault on our house of worship. A few weeks ago, one of my fiercest in-ring rivals, Ryan “The Reaper” Robinson, and members of his stable, Team Lethality, deemed it necessary to burn down my church as payment for some of the “atrocities” that I had committed against them. Yet, they didn’t stop there. Another of his associates, one Aurora Rose, chose to badly burn my face with a fireball. I was laid out for hours of facial reconstructive surgery, and am now required to wear this mask until it is deemed safe to remove. It truly is a sad thing when an ordained man of God is subjected to such disgusting attacks, simply because of my beliefs. Can I get an amen?
Several members of the congregation shout out an “Amen.”
Matthews: Thankfully, our congregation had been fundraising for the past several years to properly construct a house of worship that was more reflective of our faith. While our old church was lost, the money was safely deposited in one of the banks downtown. And, now that we are without the old, I am proud to announce that we will be breaking ground on our new building site. And, let me assure you, it would be the honor of mine and the rest of the Redemption Baptist congregation if any of you would choose to join us on that day.
Some of the members of the congregation begin a round of applause at the good news. Soon, a vast majority of the full house join in as well. Matthews soaks in the well wishes for a few seconds, before raising his right hand as a gesture for the crowd to quiet down. The applause runs for a few more seconds, and then the previous silence returns.
Matthews: Thank you for the well wishes, for it reminds me of the true goodness that exists among all of God’s flocks. And, this will not be the last time that you see me. For the denominational board has decreed that I will serve as your pastor temporarily until our new church is constructed. And, I can already tell that this will be a time that I know I will cherish until God the Father calls me to join the rest of his servants in the Great Beyond.
But, enough is enough of that. Given the recent circumstances that have followed me in my wrestling career in the past few months, I figured that an appropriate message for this week would entail the struggles any member of the faithful faces on a daily basis in the ever sinful world we live in today. And, there is no better biblical example than one of God’s most steadfast servants than Daniel.
I will not bore you on the excruciating details of the story of Daniel, as I’m sure that most of you, if not all of you, are already familiar with it, but I will provide a quick recap. The bottom line is despite all of the threats that were made against him, Daniel would not renounce the one and only true God, even when he threatened with death. And, his faith served as an impenetrable armor when he was thrown before the lions in an arena filled with bloodthirsty heathens who wanted nothing more than to see the death of a faithful Christian. However, they were vastly disappointed when the lions refused to attack him. Naturally, this sparked curiosity among the leaders who had sentenced Daniel to death. But, these sinners met with the fate they had reserved for the Lord’s servant, as the next men who stepped into the den were torn limb from limb.
So, the question is: what type of lesson can we take from this story? Well, brothers and sisters, the answer is quite obvious. No matter what the circumstances, no matter who will try and get you to capitulate on your faith, you must deny them. Because, if your faith is steadfast and true, no harm can come to you. That harm is reserved for those that would choose to persecute you, to those who directly defy the name of the Good Lord Jesus Christ and God the Father. For those who don’t what it is to have a conviction nearly as strong as the universal truth we’ve come to accept. And that truth is that there is only one God, the Christian God, and that he loved the world and man so much that he gave his one and only begotten son, the one and only Savior Jesus Christ, so that we could be free from the burden of original sin to have a second chance at reserving a spot in everlasting paradise, and to take up the Way of the Cross.
So, when you leave here today, make sure you take a look at all of the murderers, adulterers, liars, cheaters and thieves. But, do not seek to strike them or harm them as they would seek to do to you. Without a direct order from God, you are no better than them. Instead, you must offer them the Good News, make them aware of God’s love, and that they do have a chance for redemption. If they do happen to deny you, fear not, because they will have to pay the piper eventually. And, whether it’s in this life or the next, they will meet their fate, and it will be one that is filled with eternal suffering in Satan’s pit of smoke and fire. They will be subjected to performing rather mundane tasks that have been made exponentially difficult. They will be cursed with a state of eternal hunger and thirst that can never be quenched, no matter how much they indulge in food and drink in that fiery chasm. And, it will be a fate that they have earned in every sense of the word, rather it was with their reluctance to accept the truth of the Gospels, or the deeds that they chose to perpetrate during their time here on earth. For, my friends, this is what is laid out in this most holy tome.
Matthews picks up his Bible and holds it above his head.
Matthews: Take these words as truth, and do everything in your power to live your life by it. Otherwise, you’ll have quite the amount of unpleasant company when your number is called. The Word of the Lord, Thanks Be to God.
With that, Matthews steps down from the lectern, and he is joined by his African American companion. Together, they walk down the aisle as the members of the choir rise as the organ’s pipes signal the beginning of another hymn. As the pair walk off screen, the scene then fades to black.
Scene 2 – Madison Square Garden, New York, New York, Present Day
The scene opens to the locker room of a certain pastor and competitor in the Second Annual Trans-Atlantic Cup, that of “The Evangelist” Jerry Matthews. He is seated on a bench in front of his locker, wearing a white suit and black dress shirt. He is also wearing his white mask. He has two title belts placed on either side of him, the PCW Platinum Championship and the EXODUS Pro San Diego Bay Championship. Both belts proudly display the preacher’s name at the bottom of their respective buckles, and the white light beaming from a single spotlight over Matthews’ head produces a shiny gleam.
Matthews: Brothers and sisters, allow me to first welcome you into my inner sanctum. Often I choose to keep my privacy rather closely guarded, given that it has become ever so difficult to find souls that you can truly place trust in. And, aside from my spiritual liaison, Deacon Jeremiah Robinson, and a certain select few of my closest parishioners, I am always reluctant to let my guard down. But, luckily for all of you, today I’ve made a notable exception.
So, let’s clear the obvious question everyone is no doubt asking themselves. Why is a good ole’, down home, Southern Baptist preacher doing competing in an exhibition as prestigious as the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament. Well, the answer is a rather simple one. I am the only participant that has been given a blank check from God himself to pursue an agenda that is the only one that can save humanity from the fate that ultimately awaits the vast majority of man, and that is a fiery Armageddon that will spawn the birth of the Antichrist and lead to the end of existence as we know it.
Believe me, to say I wasn’t taken aback when I was visited in my dreams by the Archangel Gabriel himself would be an understatement. I was especially shocked when he made me aware of the Father’s intentions for me. For, you see, while man may be his most beloved and cherished of all his creations, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t harbor resentment towards us. Despite all God has done for us, namely creating us and giving us the keys to one hell of an existence, far too many have gone on to continuously curse his name, violate even the most sacred of his commandments, and to generally live existences that go against everything he had in mind for us. And, it’s not as if he hasn’t taken it upon himself to punish man before. One need look no further than the fate of the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, or all the souls that perished when he chose to flood the entirety of existence, save for Noah and his immediate family.
Thankfully, this time, God has decided to give man one last and final chance. He sees that the world he spent so much time creating has been afflicted with a cancer, a cancer so serious that it threatens to end it all. This is where I come in. I represent the last chance that humanity has. The Father has called for a last hope treatment of radiation therapy, a final wake up call if you will. I am his chosen prophet, the man tasked with making sure that humanity realizes the error of its ways and finally takes up the mantle of the Lord. Otherwise, there is no telling how severe and ultimate the destruction of everything we know and hold dear will be.
The professional wrestling industry is the key to everything. Countless thousands, even millions of people every week tune in their televisions and scan the Internet for the latest issue of their favorite dirt sheet, all in an effort to learn what new has happened to their favorite superstars in their favorite promotions nationwide. Professional wrestlers are the modern equivalent of Rome’s gladiators, they are revered for putting their bodies and livelihoods on the line in their each and every match, all for the sake of the crowd’s enjoyment and the love of their craft.
Since I first laced up my boots and stepped into the squared circle, I’ve left many bodies lying in twisted heaps on the mat. All with the purpose of spreading my ministry of tough love and self-repentance. And, to say I’ve been successful doesn’t do my career justice. But, that’s not what this is about. Granted, title belts are great, and I do cherish both of my golden friends here, but it’s the extrinsic value they hold that I seek. The status they hold, the platform that they provide. By holding these belts, or any belt for that matter, it leads more fans to lend them your ears, and to pay proper attention to whatever message you may have for them on any given day.
That’s why I chose to compete in this year’s Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament. Some of the finest competitors from the industry’s biggest and most popular promotions in the industry will showcase their talents, all for the chance to hoist that trophy at the end of it all so they can have industry-wide bragging rights. An opportunity like this to spread my ministry doesn’t come up every day, and I would have been a fool to reject PCW owner Terrell Ryder’s overture to represent his company. While my ministry has been fairly successful, every man of God would love to share his message with a national congregation. And nothing will give me more enjoyment than showing the entire country what happens when you take the Lord’s name in vain, and decide to mess with one of his chosen instruments.
Tonight, just like when Daniel stepped ever so defiantly into the lion’s den, I am stepping into a veritable feeding frenzy. Eighteen other competitors, each with their own sinful behaviors and tendencies, each a suitable example to set for my new national flock.
Never before will I have stepped into the ring with so many women before. Lecherous harpies each and every one of them. Sinful Amazons that refuse to acknowledge that they are doing whatever they can to shun the role laid out for them by the Lord’s prophets. Maintaining a suitable home for their husband and caring for their offspring aren’t good enough for any of these ladies. I don’t care if it’s Roxi Johnson, Catherine Jewel, or Krystal Diamond for that matter. Each will learn that they have a role, and that they’d be well off to fulfill it.
Jester Smiles. The former hero that can’t stand that the fans of SHOOT Project have forgotten all about his past accomplishments, and how he defended their honor on so many occasions. Rather than be content with their adoration, he’s more satisfied to be so consumed by his own personal hubris that he believes he’s entitled to hear them screaming his name. Smiles is a mere archetype of every grizzled veteran past his prime who can’t stand the fact that he has been overtaken by better, stronger, faster and younger competition. It’s time that somebody puts this old dog out of his misery. I’ll make sure that I bring my shotgun.
Matt Reece. A current World Heavyweight Champion. Quite the accomplishment if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, it’s an honor that I have to say has eluded me throughout my career thus far. Trouble is, he’d have the people left in the dark on the fact that his World title is second-rate. Reece represents a mere developmental territory, he’s a small fish in a big pond. Tonight, we’ll see how he fares when he swims with the sharks. My bet is that he’ll sink rather than swim.
Hunter Maverick. A man living a delusion that he is the modern incarnation of a samurai. A product of the misguided teachings of Eastern philosophers like Sun Tzu and Confucius no doubt. He can spew all the bullshit he wants to about honor in combat and the like, but when I’m through with him, he’ll be more than willing to commit a public display of hara-kiri with whatever katana he has stowed away in his basement.
Xstatic. Not much needs to be said about this scumbag, he let himself get videotaped while he killed a New York City detective and causing a deadly explosion at a police station. Probably just another act to gain attention for the lack of love and attention he wanted to receive from his mother and father. No worries, Mr. Johnson. I’ll be more than happy to put you in a hospital bed for your parents to make as many trips as they want to watch you eating out of a feeding tube.
Buckson Gooch. The lovably stupid hog farmer from Arkansas. While the Lord was kind enough to bless him with quite the imposing physical stature and strength, there was a reason why he left this pig fucking redneck with nothing upstairs. Gooch’s chances of winning this battle royal will quickly go up in flames, because they’re no doubt already covered in pig shit.
C.J. Gates. The billionaire who has so much money that he could spend all day wiping his ass with $100 bills and still not have a care in the world. If he has spent even a few weeks in church, he no doubt knows the adage about how difficult it is for the rich man to make it into heaven. He’ll have a similar amount of difficulty in getting past me to win this battle royal. I’d rather try and fit the camel through the eye of the needle myself.
Johnny Clash. Yet another man who is convinced that he is the cat’s meow. Somehow, I find myself doubting that he has done anything to merit his overly inflated ego. He will be nothing more than another of the unfortunate souls who fails in their attempts to dethrone one of God’s chosen instruments.
Mephisto. This will be one of my personal favorites to deal with. A man that has established a pattern of manipulating the minds of the weak and downtrodden, all to accomplish whatever goals he sees fit. And, all the while, he is a self-avowed atheist. Fitting for a man who holds a belt representing the biggest cesspool in the United States. Mephisto needs the fear of God beaten into him, and I’ll be glad to oblige.
Valentine Lionheart is just like C.J. Gates, except he’s more twisted. Nothing is more sinful than a man who has all the earthly treasures one could hope for, and doesn’t even lift a finger to help his fellow man. That alone is enough grounds to punish Mr. Lionheart.
And, last but not least, I get to discuss Trey Baxter. Seems like the he has failed to do his research, claiming I won’t even make it to the actual tournament. How this heathen has never heard of me is almost beyond all comprehension. Needless to say, he talks a big game, and if you’d believe him, you’d think he’s already won. Beating sense into people like Baxter is one of my favorite pastimes. We’ll see who’s laughing when he ends up on the floor of Madison Square Garden.
Unlike all of these other competitors, I go in with the blessing of God. He has imbued me with physical gifts that the rest of the competition could only hope for. But, above it all, he imbued me with the blessing of being a soldier in the trenches, fighting for all his teachings. The chance to be a prophet, the man who single-handedly saved humanity. That is enough for me. I am God’s Broadsword, “The Evangelist” Jerry Matthews, and I am ready to cleave. Blood will be shed, and sweat and tears will be present, but only I, wearing the impenetrable armor of the Savior Jesus Christ, will be left standing tonight. The Word of the Lord, Thanks Be to God.
With that, Matthews rises, and crosses himself. He then gets down on one knee for a moment of prayer before the scene fades to black.