FPW Free-1: Pre-Tournament Promos

[ticktock]

Did you think I'd forgotten you?

116 days.
20 hours.
15 minutes.
13 seconds.

Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.

The becoming will begin.

[marileeg17]

FPW.com EXCLUSIVE

Backstage, Dasha Banks is waiting for Marcus as he makes his way through the curtain, clutching his championship against his chest. Dasha clears her throat which draws Marcus' attention. He sees her and flashes his signature grin whereas she just rolls her eyes. It's clear she is doing this interview reluctantly.

DB: Marcus, you--

Marcus puts his finger against Dasha's lips which causes her to bristle. Marcus then takes the mic from her hands.

MAJ: Let me stop you right there Darlin', I don't know what stupid questions Houston told you to ask, but if you want the interview that will make your career, you'll let me take it from here.

Marcus pauses for a second as he straightens himself out. He looks directly into the camera, a sick smile on his face.

MAJ: Tommy, Tommy, Tommy fuckin' Storm. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy fuckin' Storm.

Marcus laughs as he claps his hands mockingly.

MAJ: What a challenge! What a tough match! Really took me to my limits...NOT. Dasha, what did I tell you the last time we spoke?

DB: You said that--

MAJ: I said that I didn't need the Invaders. I said that I didn't want the Invaders. I said that them being ringside or not I was going to win tonight and throughout this tournament. And what did I do?

DB: You won.

MAJ: You're damn straight I did! I did everything I said I was going to do because I am everything that I say I am. I'm the champion this company deserves even if these stupid fans don't know it yet. Tonight, I put on one hell of a show, fed by the absolute hatred of people like you Dasha. Because let's not hide our true feelings. You don't like me. You didn't want me to win. You're just like Jim. The same Jim who didn't even let me defend my title much as I wanted to. I suppose its no matter though given he wouldn't have gotten out of it what he wanted. I'm still here and this belt is still mine and it's going to stay mine until I decide I don't want it anymore. Some people say the title makes the man, but look at me. I was made before I stepped foot in this company. The belt hasn't changed a damn thing. But what has changed is this title is now the top title in all of professional wrestling because I'm the one holding it. The title doesn't make the man Dasha, the man makes the title. And when you're a man like me, it's only right to elevate a title like this. So in that way, maybe it's a good thing Jim turned down my selfless offer. Someone like Tommy Storm getting a title shot devalues the championship. But someone like me? Someone like me makes you look at thing and immediately think of greatness, of the top titles of all time. I love this industry. The least I can do for it is give you people the chance to say you saw history. Dasha, one day, you'll say to your kids and these fans to their kids, you'll say that you had the honor of watching Marcus Allen Jones in the first chapter of his Hall of Fame career. Treasure that, because it's literally all you'll have to be proud of in your pathetic lives.

Marcus pauses as he turns back to Dasha.

MAJ: Now Dasha, what was it, you wanted to ask your King?

DB: I suppose to get your thoughts on what happened out there. You got your first win in the--

MAJ: Fake news! Revisionist history! Seriously, is that what passes for journalism around this place? This was not my first win in the Free-1. I've been winning in the Free-1 ever since it started. Some of my wins just haven't, let's say, come to fruition yet. But slowly and steadily I've been making a mark in this tournament. Step by step, I've put my stamp on this exactly how I've wanted to. Did I lose a stupid, meaningless match to Jerry Bishop? Maybe. But Dasha, I'm nothing if not charitable. I mean let's be honest, I can't win them all because if I did, no one would want to wrestle for this bingo hall of a promotion. I'm here to put Freedom Pro Wrestling on the map and I can't do that if all I do is win. So occasionally, I throw the dogs a bone. I let the boys in the back think they have value in this place. It's the least I can do for the common man.

MAJ: Anything else Dasha?

Dasha looks stunned and annoyed as she just shakes her head.

DB: No, you pretty much said it all...

MAJ: Good. Because if you'll excuse me, I've got a match to prepare for against my second least favorite James of this place. Plus, my buddies have a big match and while I won't be ringside to watch their back, I'll be the first to pop the champagne when they come back victorious over the Renegades. Because that's how we TakeOver. One by one by one...

Marcus flashes one last grin as he walks away, title pressed against his shoulder.

[Saturn]

"Alright, here's the thing.."

James Saturn is holding a handheld camera and walking down the street, his face is covered in bruises and he looks tired.

"I just got out of the gym, which I've been going to basically nonstop since my loss to MDE. 'Cause I really need to get better, I mean, that loss seriously hurt my chances in this tournament and I can't afford to slip up like that again. So I won't, I'm going to try peak myself in every way, I'm going to become stronger and faster and smarter, because I really need to win this."

Then James's face lights up and he seems reenergized by what he's about to say.

"That said, I've got Marcus Allen Jones, the FPW world champion as my next opponent, and let me tell you I'm going to enjoy kicking his ass. See, out of everyone in that locker room Marcus and his gang are the only people I have absolutely zero respect for. Each of them are slimy rats who will do anything to win and lie about the most mundane things, and worst, they're sore losers. I hate sore losers."

James stops dead in his tracks and looks right at the camera.

"So here's my message for you Jones, I'm going to beat you now, then I'm going to win the tournament, and then I'm going to beat you again at the end of the year, but that time I'll be walking out the most important man in FPW, I'll be walking out the world champion."

[Deleted]

A video is posted across FPW website and all their social media pages.

Tommy Storm is seen leaving a medical center in Portland where a few reporters are waiting for him. As he walks out he puts his finger up to his lips and “shush” the reporters.

The anger and focus in Tommy’s eyes scare the reporters to silence.

TS: “I am going to make this short and sweet cause I hurt like hell and need to train again. Yes I am cleared to compete tomorrow night with Bishop. Yes I am pissed off about not having won a match yet and hell yes I am going to be ready for Bishop. Jerry, I respect you and how tough you are. I am not ready to be done in the Free-1 and I am sorry that you have to deal with a very pissed off King of Xtreme. See you in the ring Jerry.”

Tommy walks off and climbs into a waiting s.u.v.

[Jim Houston]

The video begins with a close-up of Dasha Banks, who looks confused as she raises the microphone to her lips. As the camera pans out, we see that she is stood next to MDE.

DB: MDE... you actually asked for this interview, which, if you don't mind me saying, is a little out of the ordinary. What prompted you to want to talk to our fans so much?

MDE: I did request this interview. I want to talk about the Free-1 and specifically about the A Block. With only one more match in the third round remaining, I sit on top of the block with four points over Jones and Bishop by virtue of being unbeaten. Both Jones and Bishop have already lost. In fact, I'm the only wrestler in the A Block with a perfect record and what's funny about that is that the only person who said I'd do that was me. I've seen the predictions for the competition. There were over five hundred entries. Only four fans said I'd win the A Block and two of them had me losing twice. None of them had me winning the block with five wins, which is what I intend to do. I beat McCloud, then have the block sown up when I beat Jones and then I beat Bishop on what, let's face it, is a day off.

DB: You're certainly very confident. What-

MDE (with spite in his voice as he addresses Dasha): You know what. I haven't actually finished so stop talking and let me say what I want to say. When I started wrestling, I didn't care what the fans thought. I didn't care that they didn't take to me because I didn't try to get them on my side. I didn't try to rely on them to give me a boost like so many of the pathetic losers I have to face here. Look at Jerry Bishop. If not for a small girl, he'd be on zero points right now with a countout loss against Jones. But not me. The reason that I don't rely on fans to give me a boost is because I don't need a boost. My talent, my ability, my work ethic, my self-belief and my intelligence is all I need to win me matches. And believe me I will keep winning matches.

DB: Can I get-

MDE (Shouting angrily): I haven't finished! Just get out of here. I'll do this by myself. Leave!

Dasha backs away, looking scared by MDE's intensity.

MDE: I don't need fans to cheer me. But I'm fed up of them disrespecting me. I said for so long, for so many years, that the only person I needed respect from was myself. Well I've got my own respect. I earned it back a long time ago. I told myself that all I needed was for me to know I was the best and that anything else was an additional bonus. But I've come realise that I was wrong. What good is self-respect if everyone else shits on you? I'm tired of being the best here but of nobody else accepting that I'm the best. You know what I found when I saw that only five people out of more than five hundred had thought I'd win the A Block? I saw that each and every single one of them had me losing the final to Azazel. But that won't happen. I will win every single match in the A Block. I will run through Clutch McCloud. I will rip off Marcus Allen Jones' arm. I will decimate Jerry Bishop and, with the A Block most likely already won by then, I will enjoy taking every single one of the thirty minutes I'm given to do so. Then after that, I'll destroy whoever wins the B Block and I will go on to be Freedom Pro Wrestling Champion. And then, finally, every single one of you, even those who have no idea what you're seeing in front of your very eyes when you sit in your seat, your flabby asses rubbing up against the stranger sat next to you and the sweat pouring down your back that only you know about because you're wearing your favourite black wrestler t-shirt, will have to accept me as the best and will have to stand up and show me the respect I deserve. It's taken me a long time to find what I truly want... but now I know... and very soon you'll all be telling me what I already know to be true: that I am simply great.

MDE shoves the camera over and walks off, his angry breaths echoing as the video goes black.

[marileeg17]

FPW.com EXCLUSIVE... (Backstage after the Saturn match)

The camera focuses in on Marcus, who is walking through the hallway with his headphones on.

MAJ: "All I do is win, win, win, no matter, got money on my mind, I can never get enough. And every time I step into the buildin', everybody hands go---"

Marcus stops as the cameras reveal the Invaders in front of him, Haych's hand up like a stop sign. Marcus slides down his headphones and its clear the Invaders are not in a good mood.

MAJ: "Everybody hands go...up" ... Why the long faces boys? Did you not see what happened out there? I decimated that stupid planet.

Dario steps in between Haych and Marcus.

D: Where were you?

Marcus looks confused.

MAJ: Where was I? I'm not sure what you mean.

The intensity begins to build in Dario's expression.

D: We talked about this. You were supposed to be out there to make sure we won. Remember, you talked the big game but it was all to mask the fact that you weren't actually banned from our matches. You were gonna show up to the surprise of everyone and cost the Fuckmigos and those stupid Renegays. But instead, you totally fucked us over! Probably polishing that stupid throne or something...

Marcus stays quiet much to Dario's amazement.

D: Holy shit, you were. You skipped our match to polish your fuckin' shrine to yourself. Wow, you know, people warned me about you. They warned us that you were in this for one person and one person only. Guess they were right.

Marcus takes a second to collect his thoughts before turning back to Dario and Haych with a matching intensity of his own.

MAJ: I MADE you. Both of you. Without me, you'd be nothing around here and without me, you'll BE nothing around here. So I'd bite my tongue if I were you, before I cut it off...Dario, I understand your frustration, I do. I would be too if I lost to the Super Friends.

D: You did. You lost to Jerry Bishop.

Marcus glares at Dario as Haych cracks a small smile.

MAJ: I didn't lose. I played a game and it's long term effects will help us all in the end. Dario, Haych, if I helped you win that match, what do you think would have happened? I would have been banned from your title match against 00-Sevren or whatever the hell they are calling themselves. And we wouldn't want that now would we? The three of us, we have to play our cards right. And after the Renegades lose, we'll do just that. You have unfinished business. You're still owed a championship rematch, remember. Win or lose that triple threat your contract says you're owed a rematch. I have unfinished business too. So when this Free-1 is over and I win the #1 contendership to my title, I'm going to take a long vacation while all of this sorts itself out. And when I come back, I take care of my unfinished business and you take care of yours, just like we talked about. Listen, I know you two don't always, let's just say, appreciate my methods, but at the end of the day, they've worked more often than not.

H: Maybe for you, but we've been left holding the bag of shit. Ever since we joined up with you, your career has flourished and ours has suffered. So tell me Marcus, and tell Dario, since he for some unknown reason still wants to trust your sleazy ass, why should we keep watching your back when you've never given a damn about watching ours?

Marcus steps up to Haych but clearly doesn't want to get into a fight with his larger, stronger stablemate.

MAJ: I like you Haych. I like your speak softly, carry a big stick gimmick. So maybe you should speak softer and less often...Dario, do you trust me?

Dario looks at Haych.

D: You'e given me no reason to...

MAJ: Fine. If that's how you feel, I'll have to show you through my actions why you should trust me and why you'll be thanking me soon enough, when that gold is around your waist and three of us get what we want. All. The. Gold. Or do you not want that anymore? I must have missed the part where you two decided titles were no longer important to you.

D: You know damn straight what we want.

Marcus smirks.

MAJ: Good. I'm glad to see I was able to fire you up. If you'd been fired up like that in your last match, maybe the outcome would have been different.

As Marcus slides his headphones back on, its Haych's turn this time to hold Dario back. The camera seems to be picking up the audio from Marcus' headphones that it misses whatever Haych says to Dario next. Dario just shakes his head as Marcus goes back to singing as he leaves the shot.

MAJ: "Cause all I do is win, win, win, and if you goin' in, put your hands in the air. Make em stay there!"

[The_Aviator_GB]

The night before his match with Azazel, Graham Baker takes a break from training to look into his camera. He sits in the locker room, alone. There's a certain pervasive quietness in the air, and Baker breaks it when he finally speaks.

"Azazel. Undefeated. A monstrous competitor, you tore through six out of seven men in a gauntlet to determine the new Freedom Pro World Champion. You persevered through torn limbs and submissions and finishers alike. You lost, albeit unfairly, when a man who you had a problem with interfered in your match. You took a pin from Marcus Allen Jones, a man who didn't have to do a goddamn thing, and you left the arena with nothing to your name...while Jones left with that belt around his waist.

Because of this, I respect you. I fear you. Your Night is unmatched, no single finisher in this league has as much impact or as much prestige behind it. Your endurance is amazing, unlike anything i've ever seen. Your strikes are fast, brutal, and efficient. You possess otherworldly talents, but use them not to cheat, but to reinforce your own natural skill. You are one of the most single talented competitors that i've ever seen, throughout Europe and the States. I wish for you to know all this, because believe me when I tell you that, on August 14th, in our next round of the Free-1 Tournament, I'm going to beat you to claim my spot at the top of the block."

Baker waits for a moment, before he cracks his neck.

"Marcus Allen Jones isn't a true champion. He's a paper warrior who has a squad of two brutes who aren't good enough as a team to compare to a single John Grimm or Elizabeth Karlson. He relies on flash over substance, and somehow he's managed to convince everyone here that he can somehow wrestle a full match. He's taken a loss to Jerry Bishop, a man who many expected to lose to him, and he's beaten Tommy Storm and James Saturn, two talents that, while promising, are still young and learning. Marcus Allen Jones is a coward, a boy who relies on cheap tricks and brute force to win his matches, and who disgraces the history of this sport. Believe me-I'm not a shining example either, but I take honor in the way I fight my battles. I don't use low-blows, I don't grab tights, and I sure as shit don't have a goon squad rolling around to make sure I win my matches. I give my opponents the respect they give me, and I fight them to the best of my ability. Sometimes, I win. Sometimes, I don't.

When I do win, though, I make it count. I make this championship honorable, moreso than our main belt at this very moment. I make this promotion something worth watching, for talent like myself that hold up our morals, and who don't take shortcuts to the top. MAJ is a disgrace to the belt he holds, to Jim Houston and the authority here, to Freedom Pro Wrestling, and to the world of professional wrestling as a whole, and I will break down every barrier and challenge every combatant in my way to make sure that I get to that belt the right way, the only way. My path now requires me to win the Free-1 Tournament...and Azazel, that path takes me through you. 

Tomorrow morning, I will throw everything I possibly can at you, every move and trick in my book. I will not cheat, I will not use weapons, I will not roll you up and plant my feet on the ropes, this, that, or the other fucking thing. I will break out every possible suplex, armbar, heel hook, sleeper hold, dropkick, 'rana, and any other move that I need to devise to beat you. I will evade The Night, I will avoid any killing blow, and Azazel, I will tap you out, or pin you, or I will die fucking trying. 

This is not a fight of malice, or of hatred. I respect you, Azazel, but that belt is mine. Freedom Pro Wrestling will go nowhere with someone unworthy as its champion...and it's time for me to prove my worth.

Baker makes his fingers into a gun, and looks to them for a moment, before cracking a wry smile to the camera.

I'll see you soon."

Baker blows on the 'barrel' of the gun, before the camera cuts out a few moments later.

[Jim Houston]

MDE limps slowly into the press conference room and sits down, taking a drink of water and snatching an ice pack out of the hands of a young man wearing a Free-1 t-shirt. He stares out at the reporters, who are a little hesitant to ask him anything.

MDE: Can I go or what?

R1: Um... you looked like you hurt your knee in that match. How is it? Will it hold up against Marcus, who nearly ripped James Saturn's knee ligaments?

MDE: Its sore now but there's no damage. Jones won't be able to touch it.

R2: Can you explain your change of attitude towards fans recently? You didn't seem bothered before but now getting respect seems to be suddenly important to you...

MDE: I'm fed up of being the best and not getting recognition. I thought it wasn't important but it is. When I win this tournament, I'll get the recognition I deserve.

R3: You cheated to win this match. You're not someone who does that. Why did you do that this time round?

MDE: I won the match. That's all that matter.

MDE gets up and goes to leave.

R3: But you win by cheating. If you hadn't done that, chances are you'd have lost.

MDE stops and turns to the reporter.

MDE: Lost? I will not lose in this tournament. I will beat Jones and I will beat Bishop. I don't care how I win; I care that I win.

MDE turns and continues to walk out.

R3: But winning by cheating won't get you respect.

MDE turns and gives the reporter an angry look. He opens his mouth to speak but then suddenly jumps over the table and grabs the reporter, locking him in a double wrist lock. The FPW employees come and pull MDE off the reporter and drag him away.

MDE: I will win this tournament! The Free-1 is mine!

MDE is dragged away and Jim Houston rushes in, checking in on the reporter and apologising profusely. He then runs out of the door himself and catches up with MDE, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him round. MDE looks about to strike him, but holds back when he realises who it is.

JH: I love the intensity and the desire you've shown recently, but if you pull a stunt like that again, you're out of this tournament and you're out of this company. If that reporter takes further action, you're culpable for it. Now get out. Go home and don't come back until your next match.

MDE stares at Houston for a few moments but Houston doesn't back down. MDE then turns and storms off, trying to power through the limp before kicking a door open and bursting through it.

[The_Aviator_GB]

“Well, I didn’t quite make good on my promise from earlier, but I sure as hell tried. Every single other person who’s faced Azazel has failed inside thirty minutes....except for me. Tonight, I took Azazel to the limit. Tonight, I showed my true strength as well as that of the emergency landing. Tonight-“

[Baker lets out a rough cough, his purple and blue bruised chest showing the damage he sustained during this match.]

“...Tonight I proved I have what it takes to win the Free-1. Azazel and I are still on top, of course, but there’s a bit of doubt there now. A little ‘what if he does go all the way?’ that people first thought was impossible.

Next up, i’ve got Super Che Junior, a man i’ve wanted to face for years, and i’m going to show my respect for him by pushing him to the limit, giving him 125% and taking him down. Once I conquer him, well, it’s onto Adam Thompson, the inaugural FPW champion, a man I look up to, a fierce warrior, but there’s one major difference between us.

Thompson couldn’t hang with Azazel. I could.

For now, i’m going to get these ribs checked out and take a little day to relax and spectate, then it’s back on the grind full time. I’m not going to quit until I’ve won this whole damn thing. I’ll take any questions before I go.”

[Before the Reporters can speak, Grimm takes a microphone from one of them.]

“Bobby O, Jack Sevren, you’re on notice.”

[The Renegades stand away as Baker answers the horde of reporters in front of him...]

[The_Aviator_GB]

Graham Baker sits in the middle of a ring, his leather jacket revealing his bruised chest while he holds his Hardcore title over one shoulder. The room is sparsely lit, with a dim factory light ahead being the only source of illumination. Baker leans back in a steel folding chair, the little light catching on his title's plate as he taps it. He looks forward into the camera, and begins to speak very cordially.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy fuckin' Storm. The King of Extreme, the number one contender to the Freedom Pro Wrestling Hardcore Title. I have to admit, watching your match earlier, I was impressed. I watched you put Dessius in the barbed wire and suplex that motherfucker straight into hell, and that impressed me, only leaving me shocked when you impressed me far more with that Widowmaker through the flaming table. I have to admit, despite your lackluster performance in the Free-1 Tournament and Freedom Pro as a whole, you showed a whole different side in that battle royale. You proved to the FPW fans, and to me, that you deserve a shot at this belt.

Deserving this belt, however, is a whole different story.

Tommy, you've got a hell of a lot of accolades. Speed, strength, five star acclaim and critics from all over the world talking about how amazing you are. You're a pure wrestler, one of the best we've ever seen in this sport. You've got years of experience on me, and you've competed in massive tournaments around the world. But you, Tommy Storm, are not the Freedom Pro Hardcore Champion. You see, Tommy, when I beat Nick Jameson for this belt, it wasn't a fluke, and it sure as shit wasn't a joke. I beat him two falls to three, clean as can be in a hardcore match like it was, and the last thing anyone saw of Jameson was him falling through a flaming table and heading straight to hell. Before that, when I beat MDE to prove that I belonged here, I became one of two men to do so, and the other has international fucking acclaim. Do you know how many men have made me tap out?

None. Not a one. Not here or anywhere else.

In the Free-1 right now, I've got a record of two-oh-one. Two wins. No losses. One draw, against the undefeated monster, Azazel, who couldn't put me away inside of thirty minutes. My entire time here, people have doubted me, people have figured that I'd fall short every step of the way...but Tommy, i'm proving them wrong, and I'll continue to do so until I win the Free-1 and break both of Marcus Allen Jones' arms so that I can tear the belt away from his unworthy hands and put it around the waist of a true fucking champion. 

In saying all this, Tommy, I realize i'm doubting you and your skills. Clearly, you're accomplished worldwide, but here, you're not big enough for this belt, at least not to me. While MAJ holds the World Title, there is no legitimate singles champion in Freedom Pro, save for the man holding the hardcore belt. Honestly, i'm not sure if you're ready for that mantle yet, but I damned well am.

So, Tommy, i'm going to invite you to prove it. You won a battle royale to get here. You have the paper name behind you, the 'contendership' you won by sending seven other persons over the top rope and onto their asses. Now, you're going to prove that you're more extreme, more hardcore than me, and you're going to pin me and rip this title from my cold dead fucking hands. 

The lights in the warehouse come on, and one can see that the ring Baker's in is heavily modified from a standard wrestling ring. Cinderblocks line the outside, under the bottom rope with two slots for people to roll out. The ropes have been wrapped with barbed wire, allowing for springboard moves while the wire stays rough, and access to the top rope as well. The ring canvas has been removed, revealing the hard plywood underneath. The covers have been pulled off of the turnbuckles as well, revealing the vicious metal that makes an Irish whip so much more lethal. Four glass panes sit in the corners, as well, and one can only assume the weaponry that lays beneath the ring.

Tommy, you're going to face me in an old fashioned Japanese deathmatch. No ring canvas. Barbed wire ropes. No turnbuckle pads. Cinderblocks. Glass. Probably a few tables, too, since everyone's so fond of them. You may have won the contendership, but I am the champion, and I make the challenge. You want to show me, show Houston, show the world that you deserve this hardcore title...then you're going to go through hell to get there.

I will too. And i'll retain this belt, or i'll die trying.

See you soon."

Baker taps the plate with his finger guns before 'shooting' Storm as the camera cuts off. 

[Jim Houston]

MDE storms into the post-match press conference, an ice pack strapped to his knee, and slams himself down into a chair.

MDE: What?

The reporters all sit awkwardly, no-one wanting to set him off. Two security workers stand near the table, eyes trained on MDE.

R1: Umm... you talked about earning respect last time. But now you yell at the fans and spit at a child. How can you rectify that?

MDE: I don't need the respect of these parasites. I tried something, thinking that I'd surely be favoured against that piece of shit. But look where it got me. I had their respect for about ten minutes and it made me lose the match. Playing to these bastards cost me a perfect record in this block. Now they'll pay.

R2: But for a time you seemed to be getting a real boost. If you learn to use it properly, surely it will help you?

MDE: Any boost I got was a coincidence. I'll get back go relying solely on myself.

R3: Next you face Jerry Bishop and you may still be able to take the block. How do you approach that match knowing that you have an injured knee?

MDE: I have thirty minutes against these people's favourite wrestler to make them suffer. I will rip Jerry Bishop apart piece by piece and I will make all of these fans feel each and every minute of it. If the block is still on the line, I'll make sure I beat him and make it to the final, but if not... Bishop, and these fans with him, is a dead man.

MDE gets up and matches out, none of the reporters dating to say anything.

[Deleted]

After days of silence there is finally a post on Tommy Storm's social media pages

"One match in the Free-1 to go. James Saturn I hope you are ready cause I plan to make it 5 for 5 in having the best matches in the Free-1! See you all Friday night!"

#Number1contender #FPWHardcoreChampion

P.S. Baker..... you mouth just wrote a check you ass cant cash! You will have my answer soon enough!

[veggieleezy]

*Dasha Banks catches up with Berry Bishop in the locker room as she packs her gym bag for the night. Berry looks more than a little disappointed, but smiles when she notices Dasha. Note that throughout the conversation, Berry never stops packing.*

BB: Hi, Dashy! How are you?

DB: I’m fine, Berry, but the Freedom Fighters and I were hoping to get your thoughts on the Free-1 Tournament, even though you, well, didn’t reach the final.

BB: Yeah, that is kinda butts. It woulda been really cool to go all the way to the championship match, too. I bet I coulda beat any one’a those guys in the other block! With a left an’ a right an’ a Berry Buster ta boot!

DB: Even Jerry?

BB: Oh, uh, yeah, probably! But sadly it was not to be. As the French say, que sera sera. *Berry begins to hum the song to herself, still packing.*

DB: Berry, that’s- never mind.

BB: I know I didn’t make it very far in terms of points, but that’s okay! I know I’m still learning and I’ve still got a good ways to go before I become my very bestest Berry. I also learned a lot in my matches! I know NEVER get in the way of Azazel’s knees, Adam is *really* strong, Che’s a lot of fun to wrestle, and to watch, and Eddie’s kinda mean, but I think he just needs a friend! *GASP* Maybe even... A FRIENDMIGO!

DB: Berry, you do know you’re not officially a Frien-

*Berry whips her bag, which is somehow impossibly light despite how much she packed into it, over her shoulder and sprints out of the locker room.*

DB: *from the hallway* CHE, WAIT UP! I GOT AN IDEA ABOUT MY INITIATION!

*Dasha smiles and sighs as Berry runs off.*

Ted Crewmember: *from behind the camera* Kinda reminds you of a younger someone, doesn’t it?

DB: Huh? Oh, shut up, Ted. Let’s move on.

[veggieleezy]

Out of character post here.

Baker and I have decided before going into the final that it’d be cool to do a press conference-type promo together! Everyone can contribute questions for either or both of us, we’ll answer them, Bossman MDE can edit or tweak depending on how he sees fit for booking purposes, and everyone gets to have fun! Send your questions via messages on this site to the two of us:

-Veggieleezy
-The_Aviator_GB

We’ll work out our answers, send them on to MDE for editing and proper posting! Sounds good? I think so at least!