The Bitter End (Violent Delights Promo - Morgan)

Violent Delights, what a name. What was the message they were trying to convey? To find an excitement and euphoria behind being vicious towards another? Evidently, Jacob Striker felt that way. The answer to the longest running question in Wrestleworld was answered at Arcadia. Striker got his answer, as he wondered if the General Manager of DOMINION Banch Morgan could hang in the ring. It was a simple and emphatic yes.

Now, heading into his first one on one match in nearly three years, he was to set foot inside of the ring once again. Was it against a new threat? Nope, same one. Same opponent, different scenario. A simple stipulation, if Jacob Striker were to win this match, he would win an opportunity at the Wrestleworld Territorial Championship. Should he lose? He would no longer be under contract. High stakes, one would say.

If that weren’t enough, Striker wanted two additional stipulations added on. Really?

All of those thoughts were running through the head of the General Manager as he sat himself comfortably at his desk. Feeling at home out in Culver City, he was ready to make the red eye flight out on Friday night back to Wrestleworld for Violent Delights. His burgundy dress shirt a little crumpled up, the sleeves rolled up. He felt the uncomfortable heat. No, it wasn’t the humid air of Los Angeles, it was his mind struggling to comprehend some of the most foolish things that were said by a ‘Straight Shooter’. Kicking his feet up on the desk, he finished looking through the vanilla folder before tossing it aside.

“I’m going to have to say it. I’m stumped. Honest to God, I am completely perplexed at the mindframe of a guy who simply has no idea what he’s getting himself into. Why is this even a situation worth the stress? Jacob, I want you to hear me out on quite a few things, but you’re a habitual talker. Rather than taking a moment to listen to things that were said, and taking them as constructive criticism, you continue to block everything out like a little monkey with hands over their ears. Not quite the eyes, that would be Nobi’s thing. Hear no evil, right? See no evil, right? Speak no evil? You have this false expectation of me that I would do all of those things just for you. Come on, you have to be a little smarter than that.”

Picking up his coffee mug, the Modern Day Goliath simply shook his head prior to the long sip. He couldn’t understand Jacob Striker. Upon gently setting the mug down, he watched the black coffee swirl around organically.

“Let’s try this on for size, shall we? I was the head of the Championship committee for the brand. You won a battle royal and a subsequent match to get into the Four Tribulations match to determine the first ever Territorial Champion. You had an attempt, and it didn’t pan out for you. Another chance came to play for you, all you had to do is team with Lillie Saint and win a simple tag team match. I could think of many worse people you needed to team with, against two people that we all knew that you could defeat. It wouldn’t have been the easiest war to wage, but you two would have come away with the victory. All you had to do was play well with others. I mean, you’ve proven through all of your talking that tag team wrestling is kind of your forte.

Yet, that night, it wasn’t. Call it a bad partner, call it bad circumstances. Spin it any way you’d like, but at the end of the day, you couldn’t handle the attention being on your partner. So, what did you do about it? You struck her with a barbed wire baseball bat. Sponsors got in touch with us, and I had to explain to Jaywalker why it was okay for a guy to throw a fit and beat a young woman with a weapon to close out the show. As if I could have predicted that. We cut it from the air to the best of our ability, and still the heat was coming.

Was that enough for you? No, it wasn’t. Lost In Paradise happens, and you had a chance to right the wrong by winning cleanly against that same woman you couldn’t put down. What happened? You couldn’t get it done there either. So, you took your little bat and were ready to swing for the fences. You couldn’t do the ONE thing that anyone has ever asked of you in this business, to be better than your opponent. You failed to achieve that simple goal, and what did you do because of it? You clutched that bat and tried to end someone’s career. One of my best students, full of heart, someone who would go above and beyond for anything or anyone she comes across..and you wanted to end her career, possibly her life. Did you honestly think I was going to sit back and let that happen?

There were a lot of things I could have done when I hit that ring. I could have taken that bat and walloped across the head. I could have bludgeoned you with that thing until the break of dawn. So many things could have been done, but for you, I committed the cardinal sin according to you, didn’t I? I took your bat and threw it down. Oh...No!!!!

I moved past the cheap shots you threw, and knew that a business decision needed to be made. I didn’t fire you on the spot for your sponsor killing endeavor, no. I gave you the same opportunity that I give anyone else. Was that enough for you? Of course not. You kept it up, you continued to whine and bitch every chance you could in order to have a go at me. It kept going, and it kept going..and kept going… Over and over, the same story. ‘Mr. Morgan is being mean to me!’,how overly sensitive are you? You cozied up to Clyde Livingston, and look what it got you. You lost.. Wait, let me correct myself. You walked off on your own partner, that seems to be a trend with you. Shit, if I would have thought this one through, I would have just booked us in another tag team match for Violent Delights. It’d turn into a quick handicap match because you’d walk your ass right out of the arena per usual. No, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Another sip of coffee down, and the same glance while he watched the coffee comically swish around on its town. Must be the faultline or something.

“What is it that you really want, Striker? You never made it clear what you expect to achieve. You could get a Territorial Championship match if you win. You’d still complain. I could get fired myself in the future, and you’d still complain. Maybe it’s not the injustice that you keep looking for, maybe it’s your chronic bitching that has finally gotten the better of you. I don’t know what you expect to happen. Is this how it is in other companies for you? Little Jake gets upset because he didn’t get his way, and the promoters simply bend the knee in hopes to appease you? I don’t know where else you worked, and quite frankly, it doesn’t really apply to anything noteworthy here. Not to me, anyways.

So, in the time it took you to complain about everything that I’ve said and done, you did something really..really stupid. Any grown man would know that they crossed the line when you did this, but I’m guessing in your case, I’ll need to elaborate. The one thing that really got on my nerves to the point where I didn’t look at you as a wrestler or co-worker. I looked at you simply as a guy that I would have no problem beating the ever loving shit out of. You took shots at my family. My family.. My feelings about my family aren’t exactly a secret here. You just had to say these nasty things about my daughters. Saying I pushed an agenda to get the Territorial Championship on Emiko. Politicking, they say. I’m going to peel the curtain back for you, if you’d be so kind as to open the brain, shut the mouth for a second.

After you failed to win the Territorial Championship, we needed an opponent for MYOJIN at War of the Worlds. Two women defeated MYOJIN on back to back shows, earning the right to become the top contender in their own right. I told Crazy Violet and Lillie Saint to decide amongst themselves who would get the title shot. They came out, and decided that it would be Zane. Maybe it was sentimental for the things she had been through, maybe it was the fact that among the roster at the time, she was the best of the bunch. I won’t ask why two people made that decision, but accepted it the same way that Clyde Livingston did. Your consolation prize? Losing to Drago Santiago of all people. Come on, man. His last match in the company, ready to do the favors, and you STILL found a way to lose. Let me guess, that was my fault too.

Now that I’m saying all of this, it makes me come to a full understanding of how this is a hilarious cycle. I’m amazed that after months of talking back and forth, of getting hit with your B-Rated Flowsion, that it’s all going to come down to this. One last time, one ONLY time that you and I will be sharing the ring in a one on one environment. You wanted the match, you asked for the match, you got the match. You still complained. Oh, you wanted the Territorial Championship opportunity on the line. I agreed, we can do that match. If you lose, you just won’t be here anymore. Pretty cut and dry and I thought that would be the end of it. No, it wasn’t enough, was it? You had to come up with two more stipulations for the match. Two more, on top of the two that are already in there. This isn’t 2007 down in Orlando, pal. I’ll humor the idea though, just for the fun of it.

Stipulation number three. Jacob Striker is to have a special enforcer with him during the contest in order to show that Mr. Morgan is unbiased. This was actually a proposal that your lawyer sent me! Okay, how do I put this without completely shitting on everything you’ve ever done in life? Where to begin? Okay, first off, let’s talk about how tough the straight shooter is when he needs someone to hold his hand on the way to the ring to beat a 42 year old semi-retired wrestler with no desire to fight with a bad back? Am I really that tough? Am I so scary that my opponent NEEDS to have an enabler so he can fight? If anything, real talk here, you’re making me out to look like I’m freakin’ Godzilla over here. This is seriously something you think needs to be done? Maybe having Matt Knox in my corner at Arcadia was too much for you, but I’ll be damn sure to point out that one on one, you STILL need someone with you? Even worse, the way the thing was worded was that I had to do this because I needed to show YOU that I’m not biased? Dude, we’re fighting each other! I’m pretty sure there will be bias when it comes to one guy punching you in the middle of the ring. Of course I’m going to be biased, I will punch you. I will kick you, I will hit you the same way you’ve hit me. That’s a completely asinine request. I ran it by the board, and they laughed. They even asked me if I’m sure I want to take on this guy, since he’s probably going to search for any ambulance chaser available to sue the company when he doesn’t win.  This was a stupid request. If you’re in this business and want to be a champion, you need to toughen up. Pretty simple. I don’t have referees in my back pocket, I have no golden shovel, but I do have two hands ready to knock your teeth out if I have to. Don’t worry about that. According to the board members, that request got shot down really fast. My favorite quote coming out of it was ‘Isn’t this the guy who needed a bat to win a match by default against Lillie Saint?’. I had to acknowledge it, Jacob..Come on man. Let’s get to the second one.

Alright, provision number two, or should I say; Stipulation number four? During his contest with Jacob Striker, The General Manager Banch Morgan is to relinquish his authority for the duration of the contest in order to maintain a level playing field. HUH?

Okay, first off, wow. I’m a little too busy with the match to be booking other ones during the contest. I’m pretty sure if I could pull that off, I’d be the best booker in the business. The reason that it’s so comical to me isn’t because of the possibility of being unfair during the contest. Not at all, I have every intention of wrestling the same way I always have, outclass the opponent. Judging by your intentions, that shouldn’t exactly be too difficult. If I wanted to stack the deck, I would have done it by now. The match is under traditional rules. Pinfall, submission, countouts, disqualifications. Nobody is going to be ruining the match with a bullshit finish. Unless you walk away, which could happen.

Now this one actually was asked of me by the board members. They said that it would be possible to change a rule during the match, or even have someone come down to the ring and take over as the referee. I pointed out the placement of the current official. It isn’t a Dominion official, but one for the Chapter brand to show that I’m not going to be playing this nonsense. I barred interference on my behalf, if anyone interfered, I would agree to resign. That’s commonplace when it comes to making these types of contests. So, I agreed to that. We do have a contingent plan for the contest where I will NOT be making booking and authoritative decisions during the contest, I do have a proxy through the board of directors. We can keep it fair that way. I’m sure that’ll warrant a complaint still.”

With a slight smile on his face, Morgan glanced down at his coffee. He felt better about his self-therapy session. The stress had begun to wear itself down while he watched what was left in the mug.

“I don’t know what needs to be said to talk people into the building. For you, Jake, this is everything. It’s all or nothing for you. For me, I’ll move on whether it’s victory or defeat. Still, for my family, the two most important people in my life. For Emiko and Landri, I will hurt you. I will make you second guess every single thing you said, and I will watch your blood stain the canvas. You’re Welcome.”

Morgan’s words carried long enough. He wasn’t going to spill any more tales, it was time to finish what Striker started.