Showdown

Pressure Point 69
July 28, 2003
Starring: Reed Young & Sharc
Writer: Leary

Reed Young.

The idiot is back.

He stepped out, got his "I remember him" pop from the crowd, before they remembered he was Reed Young. And just about nobody liked him, other than diehard heel marks. He stomped angrily down to the ring, waving his arms wildly, as if he were doing a Vinnie Mac on crack impersonation. He climbed into his very ring, almost tripping and falling on his face, but that's what his right hand was for. He pushed himself to his feet and raised his arms in celebration. He went to all four sides of the ring with that stance, which seemed a bit familiar to one of the Action! wrestlers.

Microphone time.

"OK, enough BULL SHIT! Let's get down to the MOTHER FUCKING reason I'm back. There is some FUCKING HARDCORE loser who thinks he can do WHAT EVERRRRR He wants to do in my company! WTFMF! OMG OM FUCKING G, THIS IS GONNA STOP TONIGHT! Get out here SHARC!"

Nothing this week for him. Not even his theme song. He walked out, getting some cheers from the crowd, likely because he was being called out by Young. Anybody who Young didn't like had to be good. Right?

"DEAD MAN WALKING! Come on mother FUCKER!"

Sharc walked down the aisle, not nervous, but his face was full of curiousity. An owner. A wrestler not doing what the owner wanted. Bret Hart and Vince McMahon or Hulk Hogan and Vince Russo ring a bell? And this was the most blatant non-willingness of a wrestler. This wasn't backstage ego-stroking or politcal pull. This was about making Action look bad. It was about making other wrestlers look bad and the company look bad. And, of course, Reed Young.

"Rule number ONE! You touch me, YOU'RE....NOT FIRED! But you'll be SUSPENDED! And I'm not talking about a FUCKING I SUSPEND YOU AND THEN RE-SIGN YOU BY ACCIDENT AND YOU WEAR A MASK AND YOU CALL YOURSELF MR. FUCKING SHARC! No, no, NO! I'm talking about an unpaid, you sit at home and collect money like YO' MAMA DID ON WELFARE ALL HER LIFE!"

Sharc slid in the ring. His eyes filled with rage for a moment. He wanted to make a move. He did move. But he didn't touch his boss.

"You wanted to bring this LIVE ON MY SHOW, so WE'RE LIVE ON MY FUCKING SHOW NOW, you...fucking...jerkoff...PRICK!" Young yelled in his oh-so subtle way.

"Why don't you LAY DOWN FOR ME, BITCH!"

Sharc lowered his head and stared at Young's black sneakers as the crowd reacted with shock at the bitchy attitude Young was showing.

"Maybe it's time to suspend you! But maybe suspending you isn't enough! Maybe making you bleache your hair blonde and suspending you is the way to go!"

Sharc loooked up and mouthed 'don't even try it." Then he got close enough to Reed's microphone to be heard. "Maybe I could get LLB. He's not doing much at the moment."

Crowd pop. Then, surprisingly, loud boos.

Reed Young panicked: "Fine. PAID SUSPENSION! So why don't you apologize to ME, not to these STUPID fucks in the audience, but ME!!! ME ME MEMEMEMEMEMEMEME!!"

The crowd was all over Young after this. The boos were so loud, Young had to pause. His idiocy just made everyone hate him. They wanted him dead.

Young pointed the mic in Sharc's direction. He didn't take it, instead deciding to lean in and speak.

"I--"

"OBJECTION!" Young roared, getting yet more boos from the crowd. LLB was gone. Young was partially to blame for that.

"You like being made a FUCKING FOOL OF SHARC?! Welcome to MY MOTHER FUCKING WORLD! For the last TWO WEEKS, you've been nothing but a PUSSY! Spreading your legs like a WHORE! I hired you because YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HARDCORE! What the FUCK is wrong with you NOW? ARE YOU STILL MAD YOUR MOMMY DIDN'T LET YOU SUCK ON HER NIPS WHEN YOU WERE ONE!"

Sharc took a step back on that one. The crowd booed at first, and Sharc, being verbally raped over by his boss, turned his back on him and leaned on the ropes.

Smiling.

The crowd fed off of that look. They knew something was cooking in his brain. Something painful and bloody for Reed. There was the faint chant of "Fuck him up, Sharc, fuck him up!"

"And HOW DARE YOU WEARING A P FUCKING I FUCKING W FUCKING SHIRT IN MY FEDERATION! THAT FED IS DEADER THAN YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING FAMILY! EVERYTHING YOU ARE A PART OF DIES, SHARC! PIW, TWW, WWL. WWFWCWECW2K1!."

OK, now he was stretching just a bit, at least on the last one. But Sharc hasn't been part of a fed that hasn't died. But then, who hasn't in this business? He was still no KroW.

Sharc turned around and leaned against the ropes. He ran a hand through his blood red hair, brushing the hair away from his eyes. He looked dead at Young and walked forward, snatching the microphone from his boss.

"Just for the record, before you came out here tonight, I didn't have a problem with you. This was not about you. Key word: was. You see, I had a problem with the attitude I've gotten backstage. From jackasses who are in the main event and look down on hardcore. It has nothing to do with PIW. I am the pinnacle of insane wrestling. People are getting uptight about a hardcore revolution. Maybe they should be. You hired me to be a monster. To be the destroyer. To do things to my body and my opponents bodies that most people are afraid to even THINK about.

"Action! Woman. Gone. Broke her neck. Fiend. Gone. Took care of him with a knife.

"You think I can smile and be happy when you've got all these people in Action who just wrestle? When I put my career on the line every night of my career?"

Reed grabbed the microphone and ran to the corner. "I DON'T CARE! As long as they give me RATINGS! So fuck you and fuck what YOU think is RIGHT! I'm REED YOUNG FUCKHEAD! I BRING THE RATINGS! You bring ratings. WE ALL BRING RATINGS! So, tonight, your punishment is to PROVE what a worhtless POS you ARE! Let's see, you've already lost to Danger. The Carnage Champ. You ain't EVER, EVEEEER going to fight for the Action TITLE! So that only leaves ONE thing for you to fight for to SHUT YOU UP! The BANTAM TITLE!"

The crowd popped. Coral Avalon vs. Sharc for the Bantam Title in what would no doubt--

"EXCEPT, NO!"

Boos overwhelmed the cheers.

"NON-FUCKING-TITLE! MUWAHAHAHA. You must fight in a match you can't win, EVEN IF YOU CAN BEAT HIM. Because it gets you NOTHING! Not a DAMN THING! Fuck PIW, fuck you, and fuck ALL OF YOU" Reed said to the crowd. "Good night!"

Young brushed past Sharc and suddenly found he wasn't moving. Sharc had grabbed hold of Young. And snatched the microphone again.

"Don't fuck with me," is what Sharc responded with, getting the crowd behind him. "It's fun to hurt people, isn't it? Laugh now. Pretty damn soon, boss, it's gonna be fun time. For me."

Sharc shoved Young away, making him trip over his own feet. The crowd was cheering, urging Sharc to kick the crap out of Young. Instead, Sharc just stared down at Young, giving Young the idea to amscray and fast. He ran up the aisle and out of sight. Sharc went to each side of the ring and raised his arms.

NEXT CHAPTER: Sharc vs. Coral Avalon >>

©2003 John Leary