03-27-2020, 04:23 PM
03-31-2020, 08:52 PM
03-31-2020, 09:05 PM
POST-RETRIBUTION PRESS CONFERENCE
The final bell had been rung. Championships were defended. Some remained, some changed hands. Retribution was a night to remember, one that shook the core of Supreme Championship Wrestling. But as the dust settled, the smoke cleared, and people began to make sense of what had gone down, one superstar was eager to get his face in front of the camera.
So it was no surprise that wrestling media had been gathered in a room not far from the locker-rooms. As a table sat in the front of the room, the gathered crowd muttered amongst themselves. Finally, they were graced by the presence of Ava St. Claire, the owner and namesake of the St. Claire Management Agency and personal agent to “The All-Star”, Gavin Taylor. She moved to the microphone, bending slightly as she made it to the microphone, her open buttons allowing one to gawk should they choose to allow their eyes to wander that far.
St Claire: “Thank you for gathering on such short notice. At this time, we ask that you keep your questions brief and non-confrontational. We’ve had a busy night so far tonight, but right now I’d like to present to you, fresh from his victory earlier tonight, “The All-Star” Gavin Taylor.”
There is a smattering of applause as Gavin enters the room, flanked on either side by Jack and Karl Barker, the All-Star Security. He’s clearly freshly showered, but still comes out in his ring gear anyway, a towel draped over his head as he attempts to provide an illusion of having JUST finished his match. Gavin motions for the two men to move in front of the table as he walks over to a chair. He shakes Ava’s hand before taking his seat in front of the microphone. Jack and Karl stand on either side of him, leaving Gavin framed up between their hulking forms. He sits, adjusting himself in his seat before leaning to the microphone.
Gavin: “Ahhhh… what a night! Yes…”
He claps as he looks to either side of the room.
Gavin: “Now I’m sure you guys have a lot of questions here, so I’m going to open up the floor. Just please, I’ve had a long night. I don’t know if you guys were paying attention earlier, but I single-handedly defeated an SCW institution… the VERY FIRST Supreme Champion and a member of the Hall of Fame. That practically catapults me to that level. So please… step up to the microphone in the middle of the room and ask your question.”
A young woman moves to the middle of the room, looking around nervously.
Gavin: “Glad to see someone taking the initiative here. Tell me… what’s your name and who do you work for?”
Woman: “Um… I’m Sandy D'amato from the Wrestling Enquirer.”
Gavin: “Ah, well thank you for coming to my presser, Sandy. Come on, you rubes. Give Sandy here some encouragement.”
Gavin looks out sternly as the other reporters in the room begin muttering again, another smattering of applause coming.
Gavin: “Alright, Sandy. What do you want to know?”
Sandy: “Earlier tonight in your match with Jay Gold, at one point you did utilize an illegal eye-rake…”
Gavin: “Whoa… whoa… hold on here, Sandy. Are you accusing me of circumventing the rules for personal gain?”
Sandy: “Well, it looked suspicious, and…”
Gavin again speaks up to cut the young reporter off.
Gavin: “I’m sorry… I’m just going to stop you there because I’m afraid that if I don’t, you’re going to ask a foolish question and I don’t want that for you, Sandy. I want you to be able to ask a confident question. So while I’m interrupting you, I’m really doing it for your benefit because I’m in a good mood tonight. So yes, it may have LOOKED LIKE I used an illegal eye rake, and I’m sure if you asked Jay Gold the same question, he would tell you that I used an illegal eye rake. But the truth is I saw the bridge of Jay’s nose and thought it looked a little crooked. I mean look… SCW has the finest referees in the business. If I raked Jay Gold’s eyes, I’d have been disqualified, right?”
Sandy: “I guess maybe?”
Gavin: “Absolutely I would have. Great thought, Sandy, and thank you for giving me the chance to clear that up. Okay, next question… name and company.”
This time, a grey-haired man who looks like he’d been covering wrestling for decades steps to the podium.
Man: “Wilfrid Acton, the New Wrestling Times.”
Gavin: “Hey, Gramps… it alright if I call you “Gramps”?”
He tries to respond, but Gavin answers his own question.
Gavin: “What am I saying? Of course it is.”
Gramps: “Okay… this was a big night for SCW as a whole. But while you discussed getting back into the Adrenaline Championship scene, that picture looks to be more muddled than ever. What are your designs to get back in?”
Gavin: “Wooo… another good question. What a smart crowd tonight.”
Gavin looks over to Ava, who flashes him a thumbs up.
Gavin: “Thank you for the question, Gramps. See, when I approached Sasha D about getting my rematch last month, she told me that I had been in something of a slump. It’s understandable… athletes go into slumps all the time. But when she told me that the consequence of my slump was that I wasn’t going to be getting my rematch for the Adrenaline Championship? Well, that just lit a fire under me, and I think tonight, as well as my impressive victory over Sammy Thomas Davies on Breakdown this past week, proved exactly that. I may have gone into a slump, but the All-Star is out of it now. And yeah, the waters around the Adrenaline Championship may be muddied, what with Asher Hayes now being a FORMER Champion again, but I think I’ve shown that I’m a team player here, and that I did what I needed to do to provide for that team. So naturally, when you see team players putting the team ahead of themselves, you want to see them rewarded with praise and Championships. Next question…”
Another man walks up to the microphone, this one a little more dressed up than the others.
Man: “Jim McEnroe. Combat Sports Weekly. Gavin, we noticed earlier in the week some peculier trademark filings for you…”
Gavin smiles, nodding his head, as the reporter procures a list from inside his suit jacket.
McEnroe: “The Multisport Maven…”
Gavin: “A possible new nickname. It still has to be focus grouped.”
McEnroe: “The Only Man That Matters…”
Gavin: “Another nickname…”
McEnroe: “The Gavin Taylor Lariat…”
Gavin slaps his hands on the table enthusiastically.
Gavin: “Yes! That one I’m especially proud of. See, it’s all about branding. You want people to think about your brand… to associate you with greatness. So I thought to myself “Self, how can we impress yourself upon the wrestling public in the least-obnoxious manner”... and then it hit me like a Gavin Taylor Lariat…”
McEnroe: “You still haven’t…”
Gavin motions for the reporter to stop.
Gavin: “Relax, suit. I’m getting there. Like I said, it’s all about branding, and Gavin Taylor is a winning brand. So I thought to myself… wait, I’ve already been there. As you may recall, however, I have this move called “Real Men Use Lariats”. Yes, it’s a fact of life, however, it’s a statement more than anything. I hit it, and Jonathan Knots calls out “Real Men Use Lariats”. But I’m nothing if not a humble and gracious man. Therefore I no longer need to affirmations that I am a real man every time I drop someone with a lariat. So I did some focus group work, and put real thought into this… and that’s what we came up with. “The Gavin Taylor Lariat”. Now, any time I hit it, that’s what it’s called. Branding! I’m a genius. And soon, any time anyone in the industry drops someone with a lariat, that’s what you’ll hear: “The Gavin Taylor Lariat”! I’m a genius, I know!”
Another woman approaches the podium, this one a little older than the last.
Woman: “Sage Beckett, The Illustration. So now that you’ve defeated Jay Gold and presumably are ready to move on, what’s next?”
Gavin was taken aback by the suddenness of the young woman’s question, but didn't get thrown off his game as she returned to her seat. Gavin smiles.
Gavin: “Well, that’s easy. I leave here and go back to my hotel room. I make sweet, passionate love to my wife. And in the morning, I get a Grand Slam from Denny’s.”
Beckett: “I don’t mean specifically right now. Big picture.”
Gavin, understanding the point, taps his temple.
Gavin: “Ahh… gotcha. Next, Gavin Taylor continues to climb up the ladder. I know there are people who see my confidence and my swagger as me being an “asshole”, and if we’re honest, I don’t care about what they have to say. There will always be haters. There will always be people who want to see me fail no matter how much I succeed, and I find that sad, because Gavin Taylor failing might as well be Supreme Championship Wrestling failing. I’m that valuable a commodity. So… Thank you all for coming. I have to hit the showers.”
Beckett: “Your match was three hours ago.”
Gavin: “AND I’ve been very busy since then.”
Beckett: “You’re literally wearing a wet towel over your shoulders right now.”
This breaks the All-Star, who pulls the towel off his neck and slams it across the table, the sound of wet cloth echoing out inside the room. He stands up and storms out of the room, uncharacteristically not giving another word. Jack Barker follows, while Karl stays back and shuffles a few of the reporter’s papers before exiting too. The scene shifts…
~~~~~
“I TOLD YOU ALL!
You thought I couldn’t hear the rumblings? You thought I couldn’t hear people saying that Gavin Taylor was on his way OUT of SCW after losing the Adrenaline Championship? You think I was really going to let myself go out ON MY BACK to Jay Gold? I tried telling you… no. In fact, I DID tell you! I told you that I would walk into Retribution, that I would BEAT Jay Gold - the first Supreme Champion and a member of SCW’s Hall of Fame. I told you that my struggles of late was just a slump that I would break out of in a big way. And what happened?
For the first time in his career, Jay Gold was the Highlight of the Night!
I did that! Because Jay Gold put SCW’s Most Valuable Commodity in danger by forcing me to team with Xander Valentine. He could have adversely affected my career, and what then? Jay talks about loving this company… if he put me out, he might as well have been held solely responsible for the death of SCW. Thank God none of that happened. I am healthy. I am strong. I am, as always, The All-Star!
People wonder if I ever get tired talking myself up, and you know? I really don’t. You have to be passionate about the things you love, and I LOVE being successful. I wouldn’t be successful if I wasn’t able to talk myself up, to make you all see just how great I am. I carry that philosophy, and I work with it. I make it a central part of who I am. But you know, I am nothing if not an HONEST man! I tell you about how great I am and then I go out and prove it. If you want to try and sell me short, that’s fine. That’s on you. You get to be the one looking like a jackass when I prove you wrong, because I WILL, undoubtedly, prove you wrong.
Which naturally brings me to an awkward segue over to this coming Breakdown, where I’ll be sharing the ring with… Alistaire Allocco? Am I pronouncing that right? It doesn’t really matter. More of a footnote, really, because I don’t plan on falling off of this roll I’m on. The names you trot out against me now become secondary. The name you want to focus on is mine: Gavin Taylor. The time will come… and I want you to record this especially… where I wrap SCW Championship gold around my waist again. And please… don’t take that as a promise. Ali or Alii or whatever it is… he’s going to learn something very real at Breakdown. When he steps into the ring with the All-Star, he’s facing an athlete the likes of which he doesn’t normally get to face in SCW. I’m not your prototypical or archetypical professional wrestler. I’m a REAL athlete. You put me up against anyone in the company in an amateur contest? There IS no contest. Any other sport? Child’s play. That’s why, when I say I’ll have gold again, it’s not a promise.
It’s a Gavin Taylor Guarantee™!”
The final bell had been rung. Championships were defended. Some remained, some changed hands. Retribution was a night to remember, one that shook the core of Supreme Championship Wrestling. But as the dust settled, the smoke cleared, and people began to make sense of what had gone down, one superstar was eager to get his face in front of the camera.
So it was no surprise that wrestling media had been gathered in a room not far from the locker-rooms. As a table sat in the front of the room, the gathered crowd muttered amongst themselves. Finally, they were graced by the presence of Ava St. Claire, the owner and namesake of the St. Claire Management Agency and personal agent to “The All-Star”, Gavin Taylor. She moved to the microphone, bending slightly as she made it to the microphone, her open buttons allowing one to gawk should they choose to allow their eyes to wander that far.
St Claire: “Thank you for gathering on such short notice. At this time, we ask that you keep your questions brief and non-confrontational. We’ve had a busy night so far tonight, but right now I’d like to present to you, fresh from his victory earlier tonight, “The All-Star” Gavin Taylor.”
There is a smattering of applause as Gavin enters the room, flanked on either side by Jack and Karl Barker, the All-Star Security. He’s clearly freshly showered, but still comes out in his ring gear anyway, a towel draped over his head as he attempts to provide an illusion of having JUST finished his match. Gavin motions for the two men to move in front of the table as he walks over to a chair. He shakes Ava’s hand before taking his seat in front of the microphone. Jack and Karl stand on either side of him, leaving Gavin framed up between their hulking forms. He sits, adjusting himself in his seat before leaning to the microphone.
Gavin: “Ahhhh… what a night! Yes…”
He claps as he looks to either side of the room.
Gavin: “Now I’m sure you guys have a lot of questions here, so I’m going to open up the floor. Just please, I’ve had a long night. I don’t know if you guys were paying attention earlier, but I single-handedly defeated an SCW institution… the VERY FIRST Supreme Champion and a member of the Hall of Fame. That practically catapults me to that level. So please… step up to the microphone in the middle of the room and ask your question.”
A young woman moves to the middle of the room, looking around nervously.
Gavin: “Glad to see someone taking the initiative here. Tell me… what’s your name and who do you work for?”
Woman: “Um… I’m Sandy D'amato from the Wrestling Enquirer.”
Gavin: “Ah, well thank you for coming to my presser, Sandy. Come on, you rubes. Give Sandy here some encouragement.”
Gavin looks out sternly as the other reporters in the room begin muttering again, another smattering of applause coming.
Gavin: “Alright, Sandy. What do you want to know?”
Sandy: “Earlier tonight in your match with Jay Gold, at one point you did utilize an illegal eye-rake…”
Gavin: “Whoa… whoa… hold on here, Sandy. Are you accusing me of circumventing the rules for personal gain?”
Sandy: “Well, it looked suspicious, and…”
Gavin again speaks up to cut the young reporter off.
Gavin: “I’m sorry… I’m just going to stop you there because I’m afraid that if I don’t, you’re going to ask a foolish question and I don’t want that for you, Sandy. I want you to be able to ask a confident question. So while I’m interrupting you, I’m really doing it for your benefit because I’m in a good mood tonight. So yes, it may have LOOKED LIKE I used an illegal eye rake, and I’m sure if you asked Jay Gold the same question, he would tell you that I used an illegal eye rake. But the truth is I saw the bridge of Jay’s nose and thought it looked a little crooked. I mean look… SCW has the finest referees in the business. If I raked Jay Gold’s eyes, I’d have been disqualified, right?”
Sandy: “I guess maybe?”
Gavin: “Absolutely I would have. Great thought, Sandy, and thank you for giving me the chance to clear that up. Okay, next question… name and company.”
This time, a grey-haired man who looks like he’d been covering wrestling for decades steps to the podium.
Man: “Wilfrid Acton, the New Wrestling Times.”
Gavin: “Hey, Gramps… it alright if I call you “Gramps”?”
He tries to respond, but Gavin answers his own question.
Gavin: “What am I saying? Of course it is.”
Gramps: “Okay… this was a big night for SCW as a whole. But while you discussed getting back into the Adrenaline Championship scene, that picture looks to be more muddled than ever. What are your designs to get back in?”
Gavin: “Wooo… another good question. What a smart crowd tonight.”
Gavin looks over to Ava, who flashes him a thumbs up.
Gavin: “Thank you for the question, Gramps. See, when I approached Sasha D about getting my rematch last month, she told me that I had been in something of a slump. It’s understandable… athletes go into slumps all the time. But when she told me that the consequence of my slump was that I wasn’t going to be getting my rematch for the Adrenaline Championship? Well, that just lit a fire under me, and I think tonight, as well as my impressive victory over Sammy Thomas Davies on Breakdown this past week, proved exactly that. I may have gone into a slump, but the All-Star is out of it now. And yeah, the waters around the Adrenaline Championship may be muddied, what with Asher Hayes now being a FORMER Champion again, but I think I’ve shown that I’m a team player here, and that I did what I needed to do to provide for that team. So naturally, when you see team players putting the team ahead of themselves, you want to see them rewarded with praise and Championships. Next question…”
Another man walks up to the microphone, this one a little more dressed up than the others.
Man: “Jim McEnroe. Combat Sports Weekly. Gavin, we noticed earlier in the week some peculier trademark filings for you…”
Gavin smiles, nodding his head, as the reporter procures a list from inside his suit jacket.
McEnroe: “The Multisport Maven…”
Gavin: “A possible new nickname. It still has to be focus grouped.”
McEnroe: “The Only Man That Matters…”
Gavin: “Another nickname…”
McEnroe: “The Gavin Taylor Lariat…”
Gavin slaps his hands on the table enthusiastically.
Gavin: “Yes! That one I’m especially proud of. See, it’s all about branding. You want people to think about your brand… to associate you with greatness. So I thought to myself “Self, how can we impress yourself upon the wrestling public in the least-obnoxious manner”... and then it hit me like a Gavin Taylor Lariat…”
McEnroe: “You still haven’t…”
Gavin motions for the reporter to stop.
Gavin: “Relax, suit. I’m getting there. Like I said, it’s all about branding, and Gavin Taylor is a winning brand. So I thought to myself… wait, I’ve already been there. As you may recall, however, I have this move called “Real Men Use Lariats”. Yes, it’s a fact of life, however, it’s a statement more than anything. I hit it, and Jonathan Knots calls out “Real Men Use Lariats”. But I’m nothing if not a humble and gracious man. Therefore I no longer need to affirmations that I am a real man every time I drop someone with a lariat. So I did some focus group work, and put real thought into this… and that’s what we came up with. “The Gavin Taylor Lariat”. Now, any time I hit it, that’s what it’s called. Branding! I’m a genius. And soon, any time anyone in the industry drops someone with a lariat, that’s what you’ll hear: “The Gavin Taylor Lariat”! I’m a genius, I know!”
Another woman approaches the podium, this one a little older than the last.
Woman: “Sage Beckett, The Illustration. So now that you’ve defeated Jay Gold and presumably are ready to move on, what’s next?”
Gavin was taken aback by the suddenness of the young woman’s question, but didn't get thrown off his game as she returned to her seat. Gavin smiles.
Gavin: “Well, that’s easy. I leave here and go back to my hotel room. I make sweet, passionate love to my wife. And in the morning, I get a Grand Slam from Denny’s.”
Beckett: “I don’t mean specifically right now. Big picture.”
Gavin, understanding the point, taps his temple.
Gavin: “Ahh… gotcha. Next, Gavin Taylor continues to climb up the ladder. I know there are people who see my confidence and my swagger as me being an “asshole”, and if we’re honest, I don’t care about what they have to say. There will always be haters. There will always be people who want to see me fail no matter how much I succeed, and I find that sad, because Gavin Taylor failing might as well be Supreme Championship Wrestling failing. I’m that valuable a commodity. So… Thank you all for coming. I have to hit the showers.”
Beckett: “Your match was three hours ago.”
Gavin: “AND I’ve been very busy since then.”
Beckett: “You’re literally wearing a wet towel over your shoulders right now.”
This breaks the All-Star, who pulls the towel off his neck and slams it across the table, the sound of wet cloth echoing out inside the room. He stands up and storms out of the room, uncharacteristically not giving another word. Jack Barker follows, while Karl stays back and shuffles a few of the reporter’s papers before exiting too. The scene shifts…
~~~~~
“I TOLD YOU ALL!
You thought I couldn’t hear the rumblings? You thought I couldn’t hear people saying that Gavin Taylor was on his way OUT of SCW after losing the Adrenaline Championship? You think I was really going to let myself go out ON MY BACK to Jay Gold? I tried telling you… no. In fact, I DID tell you! I told you that I would walk into Retribution, that I would BEAT Jay Gold - the first Supreme Champion and a member of SCW’s Hall of Fame. I told you that my struggles of late was just a slump that I would break out of in a big way. And what happened?
For the first time in his career, Jay Gold was the Highlight of the Night!
I did that! Because Jay Gold put SCW’s Most Valuable Commodity in danger by forcing me to team with Xander Valentine. He could have adversely affected my career, and what then? Jay talks about loving this company… if he put me out, he might as well have been held solely responsible for the death of SCW. Thank God none of that happened. I am healthy. I am strong. I am, as always, The All-Star!
People wonder if I ever get tired talking myself up, and you know? I really don’t. You have to be passionate about the things you love, and I LOVE being successful. I wouldn’t be successful if I wasn’t able to talk myself up, to make you all see just how great I am. I carry that philosophy, and I work with it. I make it a central part of who I am. But you know, I am nothing if not an HONEST man! I tell you about how great I am and then I go out and prove it. If you want to try and sell me short, that’s fine. That’s on you. You get to be the one looking like a jackass when I prove you wrong, because I WILL, undoubtedly, prove you wrong.
Which naturally brings me to an awkward segue over to this coming Breakdown, where I’ll be sharing the ring with… Alistaire Allocco? Am I pronouncing that right? It doesn’t really matter. More of a footnote, really, because I don’t plan on falling off of this roll I’m on. The names you trot out against me now become secondary. The name you want to focus on is mine: Gavin Taylor. The time will come… and I want you to record this especially… where I wrap SCW Championship gold around my waist again. And please… don’t take that as a promise. Ali or Alii or whatever it is… he’s going to learn something very real at Breakdown. When he steps into the ring with the All-Star, he’s facing an athlete the likes of which he doesn’t normally get to face in SCW. I’m not your prototypical or archetypical professional wrestler. I’m a REAL athlete. You put me up against anyone in the company in an amateur contest? There IS no contest. Any other sport? Child’s play. That’s why, when I say I’ll have gold again, it’s not a promise.
It’s a Gavin Taylor Guarantee™!”