Post by High Flying Hardcore on Oct 24, 2013 15:39:38 GMT -5
After Chaos, HFH was supposed to head straight up to Glasgow and do his thing there for six days before coming back down south to Peterborough for Chaos the following week. This was not the case though...
[During the commercial break]
HFH walked back up the ramp after his match with Jason Kaine. He had new found respect for him after the outstanding match the two men had. Before Chaos, HFH had ripped into Jason. Telling the fans that he disliked and didn’t respect him. As he walked up the ramp, he thought about the match. He thought about the amount of times Kaine could’ve won and the amount of times he thought he had Kaine beat but he kicked out.
As he made it to the top of the ramp he turned and wiped the blood away from his blood ridden eyes. He lifted his two arms in the air in victory and got a loud cheer from the Blackpool fans. HFH smiled at the ovation and then pointed toward the ring where Jason Kaine was picking himself up off the floor. He also got a cheer and the fans clapped for both men and for their efforts in the match.
HFH turned and dragged himself past the curtain and the EOV workers clapped their hands for him. He took a few steps forward, about to make his way to the locker room before falling over. His face was painted with blood and as he went to blink, his eyes didn’t reopen. He landed flat on his to the shock of the EOV staff who all rushed in his direction at the same time to help him. “He must of lost to much blood” said one of the staff members out loud and then bossed another member to run and get the medical staff. “Nah, he’s lost a lot of blood but not that much. It must be a concussion." said another member of staff in reply. The medical staff appeared quite quickly to find HFH lying on his front, motionless. Little did the fans know that behind the stage there was medical help needed.
HFH didn’t wake up until the morning after. He had missed his bus to Glasgow. His phone had many missed calls and texts of people wondering where he was. He had other texts from the guys he was supposed to be staying at while in Glasgow which told him to stay in Blackpool because of his health. An EOV doctor came into the room to find HFH conscious.
“You finally decided to re-join us then” The doctor said humorously.
“What happened? Did Michael James knock me out and I dreamt that I beat Jason Kaine? HFH asked dazed and confused. The doctor laughed
“No. But that strike with the Knuckle Dusters should’ve knocked you out stone cold. I mean STONE cold. The fact that you carried on is a medical mystery. You passed out a few minutes after the match… A mixture of concussion and blood loss and your body just physically shutting down with pain I’d imagine. There’s no medical term for it… But if there were, it would be called ‘Hardcore pain’” Said the doctor jokingly. “It was a minor concussion so you’ll be able to head to Peterborough today, but I would give Glasgow a miss. Too much traveling after a fight like that isn’t the best option for you. I’d go to Peterborough, settle down, and get focused for your match against Ian Lenton.”
“Lenton ay?” HFH said curiously “He’s from Peterborough is he not? I suppose I could just head over there and see what he’s all about.”
As the doctor left, HFH grabbed his Iphone and sent out a tweet. “2 days time. Peterborough town centre. 2PM. Hardcore Army is being summoned. #FUCKTHEU.N #HFHarmy”
[Peterborough]
Two days later a stage was set up in Peterborough for live music but essentially for HFH and his ’Army’ so they had a contained place to be and the police and security could devise a game plan against any trouble makers. Peterborough didn’t want a repeat of what happened in Blackpool.
After a few minor acts, a bunch of young males in their early twenties, all covering their faces with scarves and all having their hoods up of wearing low hats let of a red smoke bomb in the crowd and began to chant“WE ARE HARDCORE, ARE WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK”and "FUCK THE UN, FUCK THE UN, FUCK THE UN, FUCK THE UN" They all wore big black jackets. Mostly CP company and Stone Island brands. Once the smoke bomb was cleared by the security and the chants had died down, HFH appeared on stage to a roar by one hundred and fifty fans, mostly young troublemakers but he still appealed to his more loyal fans.
He came onto the stage wearing white lacoste trainers, dark blue jeans, his black HFH t-shirt and a grey beanie. He posed for a minute before receiving a microphone from one of the backstage members.
“How are my Hardcore Army keeping in Peterborough this evening then?” HFH said humorously and with a smile
“First off, I wanna address Ian Lenton” The fans cheer for their hometown boy “Haha, that’s why I want to address you. Yesterday morning, you said a lot of things. I know this because I was there. I left the hospital and came straight here to listen to what you had to say. I stood at the back. I had a scarf around my face and was wearing this very beanie hat. You know what, I was bored to bits. If you were to go anywhere else in this world you would be booed of the stage. Don’t get me wrong, this is your hometown and people didn’t even care about what you were saying and that’s why they stayed to listen. You’re what? 22? So am I son. You went on and for like ten minutes trying to teach me. Telling me that it’s okay to fail, as long as a try, and I need motivation and determination and yada yada yada. And by the way, to answer your question, do I strive for glory? Or do I strive for agony? I’ll tell you what mate, I strive for fucking both. I’ve flip piledrived men off ladders into glass tables. Why? For fun. Now my question to you is… Can you handle this? Can you handle that I might decide to pull out a glass table and a ladder and do the same thing to you? Can you handle the fear?
“Another thing you’ve annoyed me with, Ian, is this. You kept saying this is another Scotland versus England fight, well that’s where you are wrong. I said it last week in Blackpool. When I come out as a wrestler and the announcer says ‘From Glasgow Scotland’ They are wrong. I’m from Glasgow, Britain. You are in your hometown, but I’m in my home country. Don’t expect the crowd to totally boo my ass. Sure, you will get a louder pop than me. I may even get the loudest boos of the night but know this… My Army will be there. Inside and out. They will be there. “
The crowd cheers very loudly at both his comments of the Hardcore Army and the fact that he said he was more British than Scottish.
“You know, I’m done with beating around the bush. I’ve done that for too long and where am I? Filler matches, no championship, no girlfriend, the list could go on. I’m getting straight to the point and the point is…”
After a long pause some of the crowd begin to applaud HFH’s mic skills. These skills on the mic are something he has never really had but in the past few weeks, he has found confidence in himself and with the confidence came charisma.
“The point is, FUCK THE UN! I’m fucking sick of a bunch of mediocre fannies coming together to make themselves look like the ultimate group. I’ve beat Kareem. I would’ve beat Rowan if he never cheated, and he knows that. That’s why they got the world champion, EOV’s apparent best to take me out. The other two were scared. Even after being busted open, I was close to taking Michael down. He got one lucky punch in, and that punch was only successful because of knuckle dusters. The point is, UN. I won that match. You tried knocking me out. You thought you had knocked me out but I rose from the ashes and I beat Jason Kaine after your so called interference… I’ve just got one question… Why me? Why of all the workers in all of EOV, you came after me. Are you threatened UN?” He took a few seconds to compose himself and slow his speech down.
“There’s a story I want to tell you. As soon as I got backstage, I collapsed. I was told it was a mixture of concussion, loss of blood, and shear agony. A ‘Hardcore’ injury, the doctor said. He said it was a medical mystery how that shot to the head never knocked me out. I’ve had two day to figure it out and I believe I have. As long as I’m out there. As long as I’m performing for you, I will NEVER give up. This ‘Hardcore Army’, it gives me life when I need it, and that’s why I never stayed down and that’s how I beat Jason Kaine.
I know that the show here in Peterborough is sold out. I want you to be there and if the UN try to fuck me over again, I want YOU to stop them. My army, my hooligans. You are fearless and no matter how, you will get in to London Road. I can beat Ian Lenton without you, but I want you to be there."
[Fade To Black]
[During the commercial break]
HFH walked back up the ramp after his match with Jason Kaine. He had new found respect for him after the outstanding match the two men had. Before Chaos, HFH had ripped into Jason. Telling the fans that he disliked and didn’t respect him. As he walked up the ramp, he thought about the match. He thought about the amount of times Kaine could’ve won and the amount of times he thought he had Kaine beat but he kicked out.
As he made it to the top of the ramp he turned and wiped the blood away from his blood ridden eyes. He lifted his two arms in the air in victory and got a loud cheer from the Blackpool fans. HFH smiled at the ovation and then pointed toward the ring where Jason Kaine was picking himself up off the floor. He also got a cheer and the fans clapped for both men and for their efforts in the match.
HFH turned and dragged himself past the curtain and the EOV workers clapped their hands for him. He took a few steps forward, about to make his way to the locker room before falling over. His face was painted with blood and as he went to blink, his eyes didn’t reopen. He landed flat on his to the shock of the EOV staff who all rushed in his direction at the same time to help him. “He must of lost to much blood” said one of the staff members out loud and then bossed another member to run and get the medical staff. “Nah, he’s lost a lot of blood but not that much. It must be a concussion." said another member of staff in reply. The medical staff appeared quite quickly to find HFH lying on his front, motionless. Little did the fans know that behind the stage there was medical help needed.
HFH didn’t wake up until the morning after. He had missed his bus to Glasgow. His phone had many missed calls and texts of people wondering where he was. He had other texts from the guys he was supposed to be staying at while in Glasgow which told him to stay in Blackpool because of his health. An EOV doctor came into the room to find HFH conscious.
“You finally decided to re-join us then” The doctor said humorously.
“What happened? Did Michael James knock me out and I dreamt that I beat Jason Kaine? HFH asked dazed and confused. The doctor laughed
“No. But that strike with the Knuckle Dusters should’ve knocked you out stone cold. I mean STONE cold. The fact that you carried on is a medical mystery. You passed out a few minutes after the match… A mixture of concussion and blood loss and your body just physically shutting down with pain I’d imagine. There’s no medical term for it… But if there were, it would be called ‘Hardcore pain’” Said the doctor jokingly. “It was a minor concussion so you’ll be able to head to Peterborough today, but I would give Glasgow a miss. Too much traveling after a fight like that isn’t the best option for you. I’d go to Peterborough, settle down, and get focused for your match against Ian Lenton.”
“Lenton ay?” HFH said curiously “He’s from Peterborough is he not? I suppose I could just head over there and see what he’s all about.”
As the doctor left, HFH grabbed his Iphone and sent out a tweet. “2 days time. Peterborough town centre. 2PM. Hardcore Army is being summoned. #FUCKTHEU.N #HFHarmy”
[Peterborough]
Two days later a stage was set up in Peterborough for live music but essentially for HFH and his ’Army’ so they had a contained place to be and the police and security could devise a game plan against any trouble makers. Peterborough didn’t want a repeat of what happened in Blackpool.
After a few minor acts, a bunch of young males in their early twenties, all covering their faces with scarves and all having their hoods up of wearing low hats let of a red smoke bomb in the crowd and began to chant“WE ARE HARDCORE, ARE WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK”and "FUCK THE UN, FUCK THE UN, FUCK THE UN, FUCK THE UN" They all wore big black jackets. Mostly CP company and Stone Island brands. Once the smoke bomb was cleared by the security and the chants had died down, HFH appeared on stage to a roar by one hundred and fifty fans, mostly young troublemakers but he still appealed to his more loyal fans.
He came onto the stage wearing white lacoste trainers, dark blue jeans, his black HFH t-shirt and a grey beanie. He posed for a minute before receiving a microphone from one of the backstage members.
“How are my Hardcore Army keeping in Peterborough this evening then?” HFH said humorously and with a smile
“First off, I wanna address Ian Lenton” The fans cheer for their hometown boy “Haha, that’s why I want to address you. Yesterday morning, you said a lot of things. I know this because I was there. I left the hospital and came straight here to listen to what you had to say. I stood at the back. I had a scarf around my face and was wearing this very beanie hat. You know what, I was bored to bits. If you were to go anywhere else in this world you would be booed of the stage. Don’t get me wrong, this is your hometown and people didn’t even care about what you were saying and that’s why they stayed to listen. You’re what? 22? So am I son. You went on and for like ten minutes trying to teach me. Telling me that it’s okay to fail, as long as a try, and I need motivation and determination and yada yada yada. And by the way, to answer your question, do I strive for glory? Or do I strive for agony? I’ll tell you what mate, I strive for fucking both. I’ve flip piledrived men off ladders into glass tables. Why? For fun. Now my question to you is… Can you handle this? Can you handle that I might decide to pull out a glass table and a ladder and do the same thing to you? Can you handle the fear?
“Another thing you’ve annoyed me with, Ian, is this. You kept saying this is another Scotland versus England fight, well that’s where you are wrong. I said it last week in Blackpool. When I come out as a wrestler and the announcer says ‘From Glasgow Scotland’ They are wrong. I’m from Glasgow, Britain. You are in your hometown, but I’m in my home country. Don’t expect the crowd to totally boo my ass. Sure, you will get a louder pop than me. I may even get the loudest boos of the night but know this… My Army will be there. Inside and out. They will be there. “
The crowd cheers very loudly at both his comments of the Hardcore Army and the fact that he said he was more British than Scottish.
“You know, I’m done with beating around the bush. I’ve done that for too long and where am I? Filler matches, no championship, no girlfriend, the list could go on. I’m getting straight to the point and the point is…”
After a long pause some of the crowd begin to applaud HFH’s mic skills. These skills on the mic are something he has never really had but in the past few weeks, he has found confidence in himself and with the confidence came charisma.
“The point is, FUCK THE UN! I’m fucking sick of a bunch of mediocre fannies coming together to make themselves look like the ultimate group. I’ve beat Kareem. I would’ve beat Rowan if he never cheated, and he knows that. That’s why they got the world champion, EOV’s apparent best to take me out. The other two were scared. Even after being busted open, I was close to taking Michael down. He got one lucky punch in, and that punch was only successful because of knuckle dusters. The point is, UN. I won that match. You tried knocking me out. You thought you had knocked me out but I rose from the ashes and I beat Jason Kaine after your so called interference… I’ve just got one question… Why me? Why of all the workers in all of EOV, you came after me. Are you threatened UN?” He took a few seconds to compose himself and slow his speech down.
“There’s a story I want to tell you. As soon as I got backstage, I collapsed. I was told it was a mixture of concussion, loss of blood, and shear agony. A ‘Hardcore’ injury, the doctor said. He said it was a medical mystery how that shot to the head never knocked me out. I’ve had two day to figure it out and I believe I have. As long as I’m out there. As long as I’m performing for you, I will NEVER give up. This ‘Hardcore Army’, it gives me life when I need it, and that’s why I never stayed down and that’s how I beat Jason Kaine.
I know that the show here in Peterborough is sold out. I want you to be there and if the UN try to fuck me over again, I want YOU to stop them. My army, my hooligans. You are fearless and no matter how, you will get in to London Road. I can beat Ian Lenton without you, but I want you to be there."
[Fade To Black]
