Post by George Duke on Apr 8, 2007 18:51:52 GMT -6
Duke is delighted with the new POW Territory. He can bounce back and forth at will. He has his new apartment in Kansas City, and he has his Philadelphia home. He can commute easily to work from both locations. He can conquer two areas of this great country, and as POW grows, so does George Duke's stranglehold on the company. He's delighted to have his POW World Title shot, but his mind is heavy on this upcoming match with Big Ci. If he can hold onto the Valor Title, he'll never lose it.
Duke sits in his apartment after a long day of training. He's still getting a feel for the new city, he's found a decent gym. Now all he has to do is find a good bar and he at least stand the place. He's been studying tapes of the last few POW tapings, watching Big Ci's matches and his own. He's been studying and forming strategies - Duke knows he can pull this off.
1!
2!
3!
Duke lays defeated and Big Ci and company celebrate.
Duke turns off the television and walks out onto his balcony. He lights a cigar and looks out at the night. Lights flicker all across the city and cars come and go. George Duke is staying - he won't leave until his job is done.
"Why a Wal-Mart in Kentucky would want a midcarder from a Kansas City regional for it's opening is beyond me. But hey - good for you. I've never been invited to a Wal-Mart opening, so you hold that over me. I mean, I've been honored by the Wrestling Underground in Philadelphia, held numerous championships in countless companies, run a gym and training facility, managed a man to a major regional title and aside from being the number one contender for the POW World Heaveyweight Title, I hold the Valor Championship. But Wal-Mart? No, Ci - you have the market cornered."
Smoke bellows from his lips after he takes a deep puff from the cigar.
"Let's not beat around the bush, though - this is a big matchup, whether I want it to be or not. It's the main event, it's the big match of the night. It's a title match, and it's against a man who pinned me last week. He didn't beat me single-handedly, but he pinned me. I'm going to prove that he'll not last in a one-on-one. It's a Valor Championship Match, so you'll be getting a clean match. However, as you've all seen before, a clean match with George Duke is just as dangerous. Pick a spot and work on it - I could send you packing, Ci. All the objects and using the ropes and all that - it gets the job done. But in a straight match, you could walk away with a ripped tendon or maybe not at all. You saw what happened to Macros. Undefeated, he was! Until he wrestled a straight match with George Duke, that is. Not only did I beat him - I sent him out of the sport. It wasn't totally out of malice, it was just how I got it done. That's what happens, Ci - and you're next in line for it. You're risking your career in this match. I'm not playing big and bad or anything - it's just the truth. I pick a spot or two, and I work it until I have the match won. After a while, it's bound to give out and take an injury. I could work you're legs 'till you're grounded. Or maybe I'll work you're arms so you can't pick me up. Maybe I'll work both and then cave in your sternum. Who knows, Ci? Forewarning is fair warning, Ci. You don't have to show, we'd all understand. I mean, if you're career ends this week, nobody will want you to come to a different region and make a personal appearance, will they?"
George laughs and drops his cigar off the balcony. He walks inside and slides the door shut behind him. The blinds close and only the soft glow of the television leaks out between the cracks.
Duke sits in his apartment after a long day of training. He's still getting a feel for the new city, he's found a decent gym. Now all he has to do is find a good bar and he at least stand the place. He's been studying tapes of the last few POW tapings, watching Big Ci's matches and his own. He's been studying and forming strategies - Duke knows he can pull this off.
1!
2!
3!
Duke lays defeated and Big Ci and company celebrate.
Duke turns off the television and walks out onto his balcony. He lights a cigar and looks out at the night. Lights flicker all across the city and cars come and go. George Duke is staying - he won't leave until his job is done.
"Why a Wal-Mart in Kentucky would want a midcarder from a Kansas City regional for it's opening is beyond me. But hey - good for you. I've never been invited to a Wal-Mart opening, so you hold that over me. I mean, I've been honored by the Wrestling Underground in Philadelphia, held numerous championships in countless companies, run a gym and training facility, managed a man to a major regional title and aside from being the number one contender for the POW World Heaveyweight Title, I hold the Valor Championship. But Wal-Mart? No, Ci - you have the market cornered."
Smoke bellows from his lips after he takes a deep puff from the cigar.
"Let's not beat around the bush, though - this is a big matchup, whether I want it to be or not. It's the main event, it's the big match of the night. It's a title match, and it's against a man who pinned me last week. He didn't beat me single-handedly, but he pinned me. I'm going to prove that he'll not last in a one-on-one. It's a Valor Championship Match, so you'll be getting a clean match. However, as you've all seen before, a clean match with George Duke is just as dangerous. Pick a spot and work on it - I could send you packing, Ci. All the objects and using the ropes and all that - it gets the job done. But in a straight match, you could walk away with a ripped tendon or maybe not at all. You saw what happened to Macros. Undefeated, he was! Until he wrestled a straight match with George Duke, that is. Not only did I beat him - I sent him out of the sport. It wasn't totally out of malice, it was just how I got it done. That's what happens, Ci - and you're next in line for it. You're risking your career in this match. I'm not playing big and bad or anything - it's just the truth. I pick a spot or two, and I work it until I have the match won. After a while, it's bound to give out and take an injury. I could work you're legs 'till you're grounded. Or maybe I'll work you're arms so you can't pick me up. Maybe I'll work both and then cave in your sternum. Who knows, Ci? Forewarning is fair warning, Ci. You don't have to show, we'd all understand. I mean, if you're career ends this week, nobody will want you to come to a different region and make a personal appearance, will they?"
George laughs and drops his cigar off the balcony. He walks inside and slides the door shut behind him. The blinds close and only the soft glow of the television leaks out between the cracks.
