Post by johnnyraike on May 4, 2016 17:47:26 GMT
No fanfare or color this time, just camera phone footage of Johnny Raike sitting by the window seat of the a plane, on his way to Japan for WARPED 100. His traveling outfit covers up most of his body, all baggy t-shirt and lounge pants, though his hair is still perfect. The Most Liberated Man in Professional Wrestling smiles, though somewhat tiredly.
Johnny: “It's becoming more and more apparent to me why people do Japan in tours, and not permanently. Thankfully I can afford business class, or I'd have gotten really sick of this. If I felt like throwing the cash around I could bump up to first, but I'd rather save up. For those of you wondering what happened to the private jet I took to the first Japan show, well, that belonged to a friend and like most private jets is split among four owners. Only one of whom has met me, so my access is limited. Perhaps I can save enough on fare to afford my own one day. Becoming WARPED champion and the extra payday that entails would go a long way toward it.”
The Thigh-High Thriller clears his throat for a moment, turning a yawn into a smile.
Johnny: “Before I forget, I'd like to thank Steve here for being so kind as to hold the camera. Say hi Steve!”
The Beautiful Nightmare grabs the camera and points it at a balding man in a rumpled business suit, who gives a quick, slightly embarrassed smile before taking the phone back.
Johnny: “See, I'm always sharing the spot light and bringing others to fame and glory. But in about twenty-four hours, I'll be getting real stingy. In just about a day, I won't be sharing my spotlight with anyone. I won't need to. I'll be standing there alone, a crowd of vanquished wrestlers wishing they were me, holding WARPED gold high for all to see. I'll be ending a chase that's going on a year and half now. I'll be gilded once more and I'll stay there.”
Johnny adjusts in his seat, turning in a squat to face the camera.
Johnny: “I think the worst part of this is the no smoking policy. I mean, I packed some homemade snacks, but still. Now, I've been listening to what the people have to say, I've been watching the videos as they go up, and I gotta say, we are not the most original of people. That's not really a knock on us; there is kinda a finite number of ways to tell everyone that it's your time to be champion. But I've said it, Anton said it, Cameron said it, Treats said it: We want that belt, we've earned that belt. I suppose talking about Treats I should call him JB, at least until the end of that GRENDEL match. Don't envy my boy his first round draw, but I've been ringside for a Treats GRENDEL match before, so I have faith in him. And that's not just because I'd like to see GRENDEL denied a dream as consequence of trying to kick my ass last show. See he's been learning tricks from Wallace and Storm, 'cause he sure as hell didn't face me down like a man who thought he could win would. But I'm drifting a little off topic.”
Johnny Raike resets his face, then gives a small smile.
Johnny: “Original or new comer, everyone has a shot at this. We're all contenders for the WARPED world championship. Even us Junior Heavyweights. Perhaps especially us Junior Heavyweights. Three matches tomorrow, that's the challenge. Nine slaps of the hand between me and what I want. Seems so small when you look at it that way, but it looms huge above me and all in the tournament. When I reach that top, I'll be leaving eleven angry people behind me, people who will want to kick my ass and take what I earned. And I don't plan on letting them, but first I'll earn it.”
A more bemused expression crosses the Sissyboy Saviors face.
Johnny: “I haven't made it secret what I think the final will be. Johnny Raike and Mr. Rottentreats, that's my money. I'm not trying to count out Chase, or MacNichol. I'm not sure at all what the boy Sam can do, and I am blatantly trying to disrespect Wallace, but there you have it. The fuckboi and the clown, fighting in a giant egg for a piece of gold. Would that we could have specifically advertised that match, but I'm guessing we've sold out anyway. Looking at the twelve of us, I know who is WARPED. And I know who's just here for a job, who's just trying to get noticed. And it's what this place means to me, to a couple of us, that will keep me in the fight until the last moment. Until that third hand falls, and we here all about your winner and new champion, Johnny Raike.”
Johnny takes a moment to enjoy the fantasy, eyes going soft and a dreamy look drifting across his face.
Johnny: “Not that I'll fight any less hard if it's Wallace. Or Anton. Cameron, or Washington, even GRENDEL, I honestly don't give a fuck. Anton's giving all sorts of shit to Wallace, Cam is out there on the interview circuit, Treats is taking off his makeup; we all have our preparations. Me, I'm planning to dance, as is my usual. Narrowed it down to Scissor Sisters or Gloria Gaynor. I will find a way past anyone you give me. I will dig deep into that place I keep inside, I will pull out all the need and desire and lust for gold and fame that dwells in me and I will use it. Not even because I have to, or want to, or need to, but because I can't give any less than that. This is the WARPED world championship, I've wanted this since the day someone said 'hey, you see WARPED last week?' I was so impressed by what I saw that I sent in my tapes that day, didn't know the doors were closed. But they didn't stay closed. And I was there. And I was WARPED.”
A much more amused look than earlier from the Brutiful One.
Johnny: “And do you know how I now I was, am, and always will be WARPED? Because not a single person has dared to disagree with me. Maybe some have claimed to be more WARPED than me, but my place4 in this company has never been questioned. Guys who started here years before me don't disagree, guys from all the way back to the start of this company don't try and tell me to shut my mouth, that I'm not true WARPED. It was written in my eyes plain as day from moment one. Also written in there was the inevitability of my march to the top, of my time as WARPED world champion. Well, the clock has ticked down. Tick tock as Julvan Ramorez tried to taunt me with. It didn't work because I am not Captain Hook and he is not an alligator—or crocodile, been a while since I've seen that movie. But time is drawing us ever nearer to that moment I've been dreaming of for much too long now.”
The American Wet Dream closes his eyes for a moment and sighs sensually. He slowly opens them again to a shy, flirty smile.
Johnny: “Let's talk just a little more about Juvian. The only match I know for sure I'll have. Now, like so many you have attempted to shame me for my sexuality. If you really didn't have an issue with, as you so scientifically put it, homosexuals, you wouldn't have had to bring it up. Five bucks it makes you uncomfortable, but that's your problem and not mine. I'm also bi, but so many older men like you don't understand the difference. Sucking cock is sucking cock to you guys, but you're kind is dying out, and I'm dancing all over the graves.”
A couple of shoulder rolls and a big smile as Johnny Raike flips the camera the double bird.
Johnny: “Juvian, you call yourself a legend. Cool, I'll roll with it. I like beating up legends, it builds my own. And building my own legend is what is happening here. You stumbled headfirst into oncoming traffic by stepping into a WAPRED ring, and wouldn't you know it I'm driving a semi. And I ain't swerving to miss you. You may have heard a hundred different people claim in a hundred different ways just how much they'll whoop your ass. I don't expect you to be impressed by my words; the ones who should most take heed of my warnings never do. But the question at stake here isn't if I can talk you into submission, it's about fighting you. And while I appreciate your confidence, and I know that no one loses it all, I'll say it again, this was a bad idea. You're facing down a man who's been main eventing left, right, and center for the last year straight, you know how hard you have to work to keep that going? Not just keeping the spot, but staying healthy, staying strong, taking a thousand little steps to keep you just that little bit sharper than the rest. And you mean to tell me stepping back after years away that you have that? Please, please don't insult me. If you win, it will not be because you were in better shape then me. More clever, perhaps. More experienced, that's a hell of a factor. But don't try to act like I'm not on top just because you didn't keep up with who's who. Thank you for at least admitting I look like I know what I'm doing, that was gracious of you. I hope you take defeat with such grace too.”
Johnny looks over the camera for a moment to ask Steven if he's good, leading to a shaky moment as the camera switches hands.
Johnny: “Not too too much left to say, at this point. I've done everything I can to be ready for this night, all the remains is to decide if I want Mark Storm to make it to round two or no. It'd be such sweet bliss to eliminate him myself, but watching someone you hate stumble at the starting block, well that's just good fun. And that's it. That's my only uncertainty for the night. The rest is clear as day in my minds eyes, from the opening bell to the celebration at Peaks apartment, even the long flight back where I contemplate how I just gained five pounds. Don't worry honies, I'll still look amazing. I dare say I'll look even better, if you can believe it.”
Johnny vogues for a moment, framing his face with his hands in a variety of displays.
Johnny: “And then I'll take a day to rest, and it's right back into it. More fights for more places, more legend to build and gold to chase, but that's after tomorrow. For today, tomorrow is all that exists. Also, I'm not sure what time zone I'm in right now, so it could already be tomorrow, not that that changes the plan. Juvian first. The triple threat. Then one last one on one. Nine counts. Three taps. That's all it'll take, by the time it's said and done. And I'll be there, your Sissyboy Savior, showing the world that the freaks, the faeries, the fuckbois are as good as any, if not better. I'm up there for the LGBT, I'm up there for the scared and alone, I'm up there for the straight boy who wants to be fabulous and the fabulous boy who turns out to be straight. For everyone who has ever felt the need to mark other, the snowflakes and the outcasts, I am you, I will fight for you, and my win is your win. PKA wanted to show the world what the Junior Heavyweights could do. I take it one step further. The outliers, the queers, everyone who has to suffer for who and what they are, you will now that all is possible. If I can get to the top here, in one of the most systemically hateful businesses on earth, they we can all make it where ever we want to do. I love you all, even if you don't love me back. And now, I think Steve's arm is getting tired. See you all in a few hours, and be sure to have something ready to pop when I get the gold. Bye-bye honies!”
Johnny gives a vigorous wave as the camera phone drops, getting a few seconds of airplane seat before cutting off.
Johnny: “It's becoming more and more apparent to me why people do Japan in tours, and not permanently. Thankfully I can afford business class, or I'd have gotten really sick of this. If I felt like throwing the cash around I could bump up to first, but I'd rather save up. For those of you wondering what happened to the private jet I took to the first Japan show, well, that belonged to a friend and like most private jets is split among four owners. Only one of whom has met me, so my access is limited. Perhaps I can save enough on fare to afford my own one day. Becoming WARPED champion and the extra payday that entails would go a long way toward it.”
The Thigh-High Thriller clears his throat for a moment, turning a yawn into a smile.
Johnny: “Before I forget, I'd like to thank Steve here for being so kind as to hold the camera. Say hi Steve!”
The Beautiful Nightmare grabs the camera and points it at a balding man in a rumpled business suit, who gives a quick, slightly embarrassed smile before taking the phone back.
Johnny: “See, I'm always sharing the spot light and bringing others to fame and glory. But in about twenty-four hours, I'll be getting real stingy. In just about a day, I won't be sharing my spotlight with anyone. I won't need to. I'll be standing there alone, a crowd of vanquished wrestlers wishing they were me, holding WARPED gold high for all to see. I'll be ending a chase that's going on a year and half now. I'll be gilded once more and I'll stay there.”
Johnny adjusts in his seat, turning in a squat to face the camera.
Johnny: “I think the worst part of this is the no smoking policy. I mean, I packed some homemade snacks, but still. Now, I've been listening to what the people have to say, I've been watching the videos as they go up, and I gotta say, we are not the most original of people. That's not really a knock on us; there is kinda a finite number of ways to tell everyone that it's your time to be champion. But I've said it, Anton said it, Cameron said it, Treats said it: We want that belt, we've earned that belt. I suppose talking about Treats I should call him JB, at least until the end of that GRENDEL match. Don't envy my boy his first round draw, but I've been ringside for a Treats GRENDEL match before, so I have faith in him. And that's not just because I'd like to see GRENDEL denied a dream as consequence of trying to kick my ass last show. See he's been learning tricks from Wallace and Storm, 'cause he sure as hell didn't face me down like a man who thought he could win would. But I'm drifting a little off topic.”
Johnny Raike resets his face, then gives a small smile.
Johnny: “Original or new comer, everyone has a shot at this. We're all contenders for the WARPED world championship. Even us Junior Heavyweights. Perhaps especially us Junior Heavyweights. Three matches tomorrow, that's the challenge. Nine slaps of the hand between me and what I want. Seems so small when you look at it that way, but it looms huge above me and all in the tournament. When I reach that top, I'll be leaving eleven angry people behind me, people who will want to kick my ass and take what I earned. And I don't plan on letting them, but first I'll earn it.”
A more bemused expression crosses the Sissyboy Saviors face.
Johnny: “I haven't made it secret what I think the final will be. Johnny Raike and Mr. Rottentreats, that's my money. I'm not trying to count out Chase, or MacNichol. I'm not sure at all what the boy Sam can do, and I am blatantly trying to disrespect Wallace, but there you have it. The fuckboi and the clown, fighting in a giant egg for a piece of gold. Would that we could have specifically advertised that match, but I'm guessing we've sold out anyway. Looking at the twelve of us, I know who is WARPED. And I know who's just here for a job, who's just trying to get noticed. And it's what this place means to me, to a couple of us, that will keep me in the fight until the last moment. Until that third hand falls, and we here all about your winner and new champion, Johnny Raike.”
Johnny takes a moment to enjoy the fantasy, eyes going soft and a dreamy look drifting across his face.
Johnny: “Not that I'll fight any less hard if it's Wallace. Or Anton. Cameron, or Washington, even GRENDEL, I honestly don't give a fuck. Anton's giving all sorts of shit to Wallace, Cam is out there on the interview circuit, Treats is taking off his makeup; we all have our preparations. Me, I'm planning to dance, as is my usual. Narrowed it down to Scissor Sisters or Gloria Gaynor. I will find a way past anyone you give me. I will dig deep into that place I keep inside, I will pull out all the need and desire and lust for gold and fame that dwells in me and I will use it. Not even because I have to, or want to, or need to, but because I can't give any less than that. This is the WARPED world championship, I've wanted this since the day someone said 'hey, you see WARPED last week?' I was so impressed by what I saw that I sent in my tapes that day, didn't know the doors were closed. But they didn't stay closed. And I was there. And I was WARPED.”
A much more amused look than earlier from the Brutiful One.
Johnny: “And do you know how I now I was, am, and always will be WARPED? Because not a single person has dared to disagree with me. Maybe some have claimed to be more WARPED than me, but my place4 in this company has never been questioned. Guys who started here years before me don't disagree, guys from all the way back to the start of this company don't try and tell me to shut my mouth, that I'm not true WARPED. It was written in my eyes plain as day from moment one. Also written in there was the inevitability of my march to the top, of my time as WARPED world champion. Well, the clock has ticked down. Tick tock as Julvan Ramorez tried to taunt me with. It didn't work because I am not Captain Hook and he is not an alligator—or crocodile, been a while since I've seen that movie. But time is drawing us ever nearer to that moment I've been dreaming of for much too long now.”
The American Wet Dream closes his eyes for a moment and sighs sensually. He slowly opens them again to a shy, flirty smile.
Johnny: “Let's talk just a little more about Juvian. The only match I know for sure I'll have. Now, like so many you have attempted to shame me for my sexuality. If you really didn't have an issue with, as you so scientifically put it, homosexuals, you wouldn't have had to bring it up. Five bucks it makes you uncomfortable, but that's your problem and not mine. I'm also bi, but so many older men like you don't understand the difference. Sucking cock is sucking cock to you guys, but you're kind is dying out, and I'm dancing all over the graves.”
A couple of shoulder rolls and a big smile as Johnny Raike flips the camera the double bird.
Johnny: “Juvian, you call yourself a legend. Cool, I'll roll with it. I like beating up legends, it builds my own. And building my own legend is what is happening here. You stumbled headfirst into oncoming traffic by stepping into a WAPRED ring, and wouldn't you know it I'm driving a semi. And I ain't swerving to miss you. You may have heard a hundred different people claim in a hundred different ways just how much they'll whoop your ass. I don't expect you to be impressed by my words; the ones who should most take heed of my warnings never do. But the question at stake here isn't if I can talk you into submission, it's about fighting you. And while I appreciate your confidence, and I know that no one loses it all, I'll say it again, this was a bad idea. You're facing down a man who's been main eventing left, right, and center for the last year straight, you know how hard you have to work to keep that going? Not just keeping the spot, but staying healthy, staying strong, taking a thousand little steps to keep you just that little bit sharper than the rest. And you mean to tell me stepping back after years away that you have that? Please, please don't insult me. If you win, it will not be because you were in better shape then me. More clever, perhaps. More experienced, that's a hell of a factor. But don't try to act like I'm not on top just because you didn't keep up with who's who. Thank you for at least admitting I look like I know what I'm doing, that was gracious of you. I hope you take defeat with such grace too.”
Johnny looks over the camera for a moment to ask Steven if he's good, leading to a shaky moment as the camera switches hands.
Johnny: “Not too too much left to say, at this point. I've done everything I can to be ready for this night, all the remains is to decide if I want Mark Storm to make it to round two or no. It'd be such sweet bliss to eliminate him myself, but watching someone you hate stumble at the starting block, well that's just good fun. And that's it. That's my only uncertainty for the night. The rest is clear as day in my minds eyes, from the opening bell to the celebration at Peaks apartment, even the long flight back where I contemplate how I just gained five pounds. Don't worry honies, I'll still look amazing. I dare say I'll look even better, if you can believe it.”
Johnny vogues for a moment, framing his face with his hands in a variety of displays.
Johnny: “And then I'll take a day to rest, and it's right back into it. More fights for more places, more legend to build and gold to chase, but that's after tomorrow. For today, tomorrow is all that exists. Also, I'm not sure what time zone I'm in right now, so it could already be tomorrow, not that that changes the plan. Juvian first. The triple threat. Then one last one on one. Nine counts. Three taps. That's all it'll take, by the time it's said and done. And I'll be there, your Sissyboy Savior, showing the world that the freaks, the faeries, the fuckbois are as good as any, if not better. I'm up there for the LGBT, I'm up there for the scared and alone, I'm up there for the straight boy who wants to be fabulous and the fabulous boy who turns out to be straight. For everyone who has ever felt the need to mark other, the snowflakes and the outcasts, I am you, I will fight for you, and my win is your win. PKA wanted to show the world what the Junior Heavyweights could do. I take it one step further. The outliers, the queers, everyone who has to suffer for who and what they are, you will now that all is possible. If I can get to the top here, in one of the most systemically hateful businesses on earth, they we can all make it where ever we want to do. I love you all, even if you don't love me back. And now, I think Steve's arm is getting tired. See you all in a few hours, and be sure to have something ready to pop when I get the gold. Bye-bye honies!”
Johnny gives a vigorous wave as the camera phone drops, getting a few seconds of airplane seat before cutting off.