Adrenaline Chamber

[SnowQueenSCW]

Send in the Clown


Chapter 13 – Part 1: 

Looks like winning a shiny new briefcase wasn’t in the cards, eh? Perhaps that is for the best. I heard they just recycle the same old briefcases – only replacing them every few years at Target. Target, people! 

I mean, what did I really expect when you look at my teammates? A guy that needs a balding, obese man to tell him where to go and a woman that’s still crying over all her daddy issues. Is anyone really surprised that I couldn’t get out of round one? I mean, seriously, did someone roll a shiny dime along the ramp that caused Tsunami to go “oooo, shiny!” and run out and stay out or something?

But I digress, my frustrations with the element of Trios now being tainted with either a win by a team using “unicorn” in the name and the fact that the other team are now ‘switching partners’… well, let’s just say the ‘legitimacy’ of this tournament has dropped severely in my eyes.

But then again, must people don’t really care what the clown thinks, right?

What matters, truly, is whether or not people are entertained – well, and that I’m entertained. But that’s a topic I’ll get to later in the first promo.

Oh, that’s right! I said ‘first’. Better prepare yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. There’s gonna be two parts to this chapter and two promos to boot. Because I’ve got quite a lot to say about where things stand in the world I inhabit that is Supreme Championship Wrestling. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? And it’s not like I have to worry about time or word limits in this particular chapter. Nope, I can go as slow as I want and talk as much or as little as I please…

Which, is, sort of… needed.

See, this particular chapter of my story… well, it’s a bit of doozy. 

Coming off Breakdown and the disappointing loss of first-round elimination from the now tainted Trios Tournament, I found myself disappointed. I had truly wanted to win the tournament this year – and, since it’s impossible now, I’m not going to lie. I was planning on using the Trios to do what I have wanted to do for nearly ten long years.

Headline Rise to Greatness one more time.

“Oh, Shilo! You can’t do that! The SCW management hate that! The boss hates that! It delegitimizes the Taking Hold of the Flame royale and whoever the champion is!”

Yeah, let me just rewind that thought process for a second. Last year, the “world champion” won ONE match to become champion and the royale winner won ONE royale after losing most of his matches. I’d have to have won three matches to get that contract shot. Secondly, the boss is currently on bedrest for pissing off a Shilo-ripoff one too many times. 

Besides, we all know it wasn’t about the world championship. Did I want to be world champion again? Hell, yes! If Cid Turner could do it, I sure as hell could. If David Helms could do it, I sure as hell could. If Chris Cannon – you get my point! It was the majesty of Rise to Greatness that I wanted to hold just one more time. To stand in the spotlight of the main-event for a fourth, and final, time. Yes, I am not arrogant enough to think I could pull off such a miracle more than once more. But that had been my driving force for so long – wanting that moment just one more time. And for many years, I believed it to be impossible. I thought that I no longer possessed the skill that I once did. Like CHBK, Christian Savior, and… Jason Zero… like so many others, I felt that I had lost my step and simply wasn’t ‘supreme’ anymore for Supreme Championship Wrestling. 

Holding the Adrenaline title for over six months this year, effectively becoming the longest singles champion of this year, had made me realize how much I still had to give this business and how much I could still take and enjoy. In a pleasant way, I had inadvertently proven myself wrong. Because this wasn’t some six months of ‘part sabbatical’ or filled with me cheating or using ambushes. No! Six months of defending the title and winning cleanly – because I was better than my opponent! Six months of going through tables and still fighting.

That was what resonated the most with me. The fact that I didn’t have to rely on cheap ploys or ambushes like so many other people in this sport, including at least half of the people in the upcoming chamber match.

And speaking of which!

My shock at that announcement a short time later was indeed just that. A shock. Up to this point, I had survived an Under the Big Top Match and a TLC match regarding the Adrenaline Championship. And to be clear, those had not been easy matches, given my physical state. There is nothing inherently ‘enjoyable’ about crashing through a table or ladder or being whipped around cage of mesh and string.

But an elimination chamber…

I shuddered at the possibility. The last chamber match I had been in was – interestingly enough – Under Attack eight years ago. After fighting of every member of a little group called the Coalition or something like that, the beast of a monster named Blitzkrieg bulldozed through me, effectively eliminating me last and taking the World title from me…

I’d like to go into more detail, but then I’d be digging into my promo material. The point is that, heading into Halloween, I had a lot on my mind. And it would be stupid to assume that I didn’t get into a worried debate with my soul-mate Marina about it.

Of course Marina was worried. She had every right to be. TLC and Under the Big Top were bad enough, but the chamber? That structure put those matched to shame. You could hide away like Holly Adams did in a TLC match. You could ‘bounce’ off the walls of a Big Top match. There were no such forgiving things in a chamber. It was you, the metal, the plexiglass and the individuals that wanted you dead. Simple as that. Don’t believe me? Go back to ANY chamber match in SCW history. You won’t find one person that competed in one that will shrug it off and say “well, THAT was easy!” – at least not in a way that’s believable. Chambers shave years off your career… and when you’re me, with a limited time – to the point where you count your career in MONTHS instead of years… of course Marina was worried.

Still, I couldn’t back out of it. I couldn’t just walk away from it. 

Truthfully? I hated that Holly Adams was the Adrenaline champion. I hated that she was touting it everywhere. I hated that she was bragging about a 100 day reign when over 30 of those days were because SCW had been on sabbatical! I hated that she was constantly whining on every show about ‘unfairness’ and ‘conspiracy’ and I hated how she was using the misfortune of someone she was ‘suppose’ to be helping to better primp her own ‘Life-Coaching Services’. 

Give me FUCKING SYREN over that blonde-haired crybaby! At least Syren threw a decent punch and didn’t run away or cry for help – granted, that help often came anyway, but there’s a reason she and I got “Match of All Time” at RTG X!

The point is that I needed to be in this match, even if it was just to ensure that the Adrenaline title left Holly’s hands and ended up in a more…entertaining pair. And there were a few I considered.

Jordan Majors, of course, was at the top of that list. The girl that was everything that Syren was now ‘trying to be’ and that Holly Adams could never be, she was a prime candidate. And, in truth, I’d be lying if I said that she didn’t deserve to have a title in her possession at this point in her career – had she even won a singles title before? I don’t think so.

Ricky James was next. Despite him being a parody of some politician I had heard of or something like that, he had actually proven himself rather decent – no, actually, rather good – in the TLC match. Hell, he had caught me and effectively cost me the Adrenaline title at Rise to Greatness, and he had won his fair share of matches. Plus, he had seemingly dropped the “AMURRICAN!” schtick, least I think he has from what I saw, and was trying shit on his own and I could respect that. Parodies and such had been my thing for a while with “Rubber Mask” and whatnot, but there was a reason they never lasted. Because they got old REALLY fast.

Of course, Majors and James were really the only two. I had no desire to see Minerva hold the title during her ‘daddy issues’ and even less of a desire to see Ace Marshall hold it when he could skip a match over a ‘broken penis’ or whatever and while Lexy was clamouring about conspiracies – yeah, because THAT was never done before.

You guys want to know why I never went that route? Why I never went the path of whining and crying about “conspiracies”? At best, I showed that the boss Mr. D. was using me to fulfill his own agenda in pushing newer talent – but the idea that everyone was against me. You know why I never did that?

Because it’s FUCKING dumb! Seriously, the idea that a whole management team with dozens and dozens of roster members would go out of their way to make one person’s life a living hell? Dumbest shit I’ve ever heard! Know why? Because if they wanted that person to suffer? They’d just fire them! Yeah! Go figure! What better way to stick to someone then to remove them from SCW. You take away their livelihood, strip them of any real celebrity status, and keep them off television. 

“Oh, Shilo! They need us! We make them money!” BULL-FUCKING-SHIT! 

Do you have any idea how dumb that sounds? We are all replaceable! Hell, look at me! I was once the most talked-about, entertaining main-event guy in SCW. 2011-2014 were considered the ‘Shilo years’ of who lead SCW! Soon as I left? Bunch of copycats came out of the woodwork. Ace, Giovanni, Ikiro Yoshiada, of course I can’t forget Aaron Blackbourne – all trying to be “the next Shilo Valiant” and get in on the ‘entertainment’ and ‘creative mind’ that I was. 

So, to think that SCW has some conspiracy going against one person when so many ‘alternatives’ exist – even if, like with Ace Marshall, they are weak-ass substitutes, is beyond stupid and why I never did it.

I don’t try to ‘copy other gimmicks’. I don’t try to ‘emulate anyone’. How many times do we have to see a blonde-diva declaring she’s ‘the fairest in all the land’ while touting she’s ‘God’s gift to wrestling’? Yeah, you know who I’m talking about. And trust me, I don’t want to waste my time here giving a list of every single superstar that’s fit that gimmick over the years, starting with Katie Steward and ending with that person because then I’d be here all day and I’m not here to bore you.

The point is that I am a trendsetter. I look for things that haven’t been done or new ways something can be done. That’s who I am. That’s why I tell my story this way rather than the way I use to. Because I’m not the same guy that was around in the “Shilo years”. I’m different. My style is different. I’ve had to adapt with the progression of time. From a change in mindset to dealing with physical limitations.

“Shilo…”

Speaking of which, I felt my head snap up from my musings to see… dark. Lots and lots of dark. Not total dark, mind you. I wasn’t in a pitch-black room or something. Rather, I was walking on the sidewalk – my brain finally acknowledging the feeling of concrete beneath my feet as I travelled. I could see the fences on some parts of the lawns next to me, along with houses and driveways and cars and people! Lots of people!

Little kids running around with their little flashlights darting left and right, up and down, to try and keep up with their owners’ movements. Same could be said of the plastic bags and buckets all the kids held. The streetlights offered adequate illumination and, given the small, confined space of the neighbourhood and streets, no one was choosing to drive their vehicles in this area, maintaining a safe and sound place for the children to enjoy Halloween.

Yeah, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I was going trick-or-treating with my family. It was one of the things I preferred of my home in Guelph over the ritz that had been Toronto as part of Marina’s wealth as the Empress (long, long ago).

The small neighbourhood around Gordan Street? It was like a land onto ourselves. We kept to ourselves, dealt with only one another and those that lived around us and, while there were some events downtown and in the main districts, we weren’t bothered by the larger cities of Toronto, Mississauga, etc.

In a way, it reminded me of home… my real home. The one I never really left despite the years I spent away from it: The Kings of Shadows. The Underground.

I often found myself returning my memories of that place. A simpler time. Before invasions, made fathers and bitter men, deranged detectives, and slighted children. Was it chaos? Yes, but it was my chaos. It was my world – I mean that it was the world I knew. 

So to have a piece of that in some way… it was peace of mind that I didn’t realize I needed. Still, much like back then, to see so many children running around in costumes, laughing and yelling in excitement, so much like it had been back then down there.

Was I leaning against a fence? I turned my head a little and realized I had been – for how long I’m not sure. How long had it been since Marina had called my name? 

My answer to that question was her concerned face right next to mine. “Are you alright?” she asked, her hand finding mine and squeezing it strongly to the point some of my bones moved closer together – snug, but not painful. “Is it your knee?” she added.

“No.” I quickly assured her, pushing myself to my full height. “I…uh…I sort of got lost in thought.” I felt so stupid saying that, the embarrassment reaching just under my collar in a steady warmth. There she was, ever worried about me because of my bad knee, and there I was, worrying here, simply because I was off in LA-LA land with memories.

For a moment, she didn’t believe me. Even in the dark, I could see her eyes running over me, checking me for any sign of pain, discomfort or stiffness in my knee. When she found none, she merely gave a nod of her head, lopping her hands around my arm. 

“Come on.” She encouraged. “We’re going to lose sight of Memphis if we’re not careful.” She was quick to scan the small groups of children that were ahead of us. There were goblins, Harry Potters, Stormtroopers, vampires – none of those caught her attention. It wasn’t till her eyes settled on Spider-Man running around up one of the driveways that she quietly tugged my arm to follow her, which I obediently did. My eyes didn’t work so well in the dark – well, one of them didn’t, another parting gift from the pyro nearly ten years ago… the left eye a stark white-blue when my other eye (the undamaged one) was dark blue. I could still see out of the eye but the damage had left it discolored and far more difficult to see in the dark. 

Perhaps it was that that had prompted Marina’s choice of our costumes, as she stood there dressed as Sarah from Labyrinth with me coupling her as – Hoogle the dwarf, who else? I’m kidding. I was dressed as Jareth the Goblin King. Not a far cry from my own ‘personality’ on SCW television. Marina had done the wig up perfectly and even added a jock-cup of sorts for the meme-inducing one that Bowie had worn in the movie. Along with the crystal balls I had, I had a vague idea of what it was like to be Ace Marshall (to be constantly thinking of my genitals and how they are displayed). Still, I refused to say any jokes or one-liners like he would – not with so many children present.

As for Memphis? Well, he had been begging to play Spider-Man for months. It was his favourite character. And, I’ll admit, while Marina and I used bargain stores and Goodwill stores and even the Salvation Army up by Woodlawn Street, she had let me splurge a little on Memphis’ costume, using Etsy to get him a custom costume from a cosplay maker. Was it frivolous? A little, but damn, you should have seen my son’s face light up when he saw that costume. The quality and such – I was terrified that it wouldn’t fit (you know how clothing cuts are different) but, Marina and I were lucky and he looked damn good in the red and blue. Hell, some of his friends are already expressed their jealousy as they ran around in makeshift or low-grade store-bought costumes. Nothing wrong with that, but I was just happy that Memphis was happy.

Let me take a moment to discuss something with you. One thing that seems to be haunting a lot of wrestlers in the world of SCW that I inhabit – I kept hearing tales of ‘failed marriages’ and ‘poor parenting’. I mean, from Xander Valentine losing his offspring or our world champion Cid Turner supposedly having a kid or something like that. Not to mention certain wrestlers swapping partners like square-dancers…

My point is, out of the plethora of wrestlers that can’t seem to be both ‘wrestler’ and ‘family/partner’, I didn’t want to fall into that trap. When my son was born, much in the same way as when we had adopted Gwynplaine, I needed to be there as both a provider and wrestler. Marina, after Memphis’ birth, had quietly stepped away from the ring, choosing not to try the balancing act, but I had tried for a few years and failed, needing to step away for sake of health and family.

When I had returned over a year ago, my mindset had not changed, but my methods had. I wanted to be both a wrestler and a good father/husband/soulmate. It’s why I’ve let this nagging knee get to me as I have with the breakdowns and anxiety attacks. It’s not just because I feared it would end my career in SCW – before I wanted it to be over – but also because I feared of how it would affect my being a father and husband to my family. For those of you with children, try envisioning not being able to walk with your partner as I was in this chapter. Try imagining not being able to carry your kid when he gets tired or playing with him in the backyard.

Yes, Nomas’ news of surgery that would, basically, ‘fix’ my knee had given me a sense of ‘confidence’ that made me a little more, shall we say, fool-hardy, but Marina was not so convinced. While I had my reservations of the chamber, she was fucking terrified. She hid it well in front of our son but I knew it was there, constantly playing in the back of her mind. It was playing in my mind as well, but not to the same extent.

Still, I wanted to maintain a balancing act with my family and wrestling, which was why I was dressed in costume and helping my son go trick-or-treating. We had been walking around the neighbourhood for a good hour and a half and, as I said, the sun had long since set on us, putting the neighbourhood in nighttime darkness and relying on the street-lights for illumination, as well as the jack-o’lanterns and some lights on the house. We actually passed a house that, rather than be decorated for Halloween, had skipped the spooky holiday and already had Christmas lights up. Seriously! 

I felt Marina lean against me and I instinctively held her in my arms as we watched Memphis bound down off the current porch he was on, having already acquired his candy from that particular abode. His plastic bucket (shaped like a pumpkin complete with orange and black colors and a smiling face) was almost fill with the dollar-store/bulk-bought little candy bars of various brands and colors. We still had a number of houses to go, so the boy did not let up, rushing past to the very next house, leaving Marina and I quietly walk the few steps over to the next driveway.

What I wouldn’t give to have my son’s energy. Here, Marina and I were getting tired just from walking down a sidewalk, but he was rushing up and down like a triathlete with no signs being worn out. For a moment, I wondered if he was sneaking some of his candy – eating some of it to be placed in an eternal ‘sugar-high’. 

“He’s eventually not going to want to do this anymore.” Marina mused, her eyes on our son, earning a shrug from me.
“Soon as he realizes he can buy candy whenever he wants – that’ll be when we lose him.” I joked. “I mean, first he has to get a job and have money, but still…”

That seemed to set Marina off on another series of thoughts, for she became very contemplative, remaining in my arms, but not feeling overly present as we travelled down further the current sidewalk as Memphis darted from house to house.

It wasn’t until we had passed four or five more houses that I heard Marina’s voice again.

“Memphis said something the other day…” she whispered, turning to look at me. Despite my poor vision in the dark, I could still see the concern in her eyes.
“What happened?” I asked, my cast casting up to spy Memphis knocking on the door of the current house.
“Apparently, one of his classmates came in with an action figure of you.”
“Oh…” I chuckled at that. “I mean… was it a newer edition or like ‘antique’ style?”
“Does it matter?”
“I mean, a little?” I shrugged. “I don’t really look the same and, let’s face it, it’s not like SCW can compete with Marvel in toy-sales and whatever.”
“Apparently, the kid also brought Superman and was crushing you, that’s what got Memphis’ attention.”

“Well…” I huffed. “That’s a bit of an unfair fight. I mean, Superman can fly and shoot lasers out of his eyes. One of mine doesn’t even work right. He can leap tall buildings in a single bound… I can barely climb a tree…AND I left my kryptonite in my other groin-cup, so… hardly seems fair.” I spotted a kid running by us wearing a Superman-costume. “Unless I fought that one.” I pointed at the kid, Marina’s eyes following my direction. “I MIGHT be able to take him.”

Rolling her eyes, Marina offered me a small courtesy laugh. “It’s not that, Shilo.” She shook her head. “And it’s not about the chamber.” She added for my own sake – because that’s where my reasoning was going. Me getting my ass kicked? Outmatched? Easy Segway into the chamber right? But apparently that wasn’t what Marina was talking about.

“When he came home, Memphis said he wanted to be a wrestler like you… so he can have his own action figure one day.”

This is where she looked up at me and I saw the concern in her eyes – like borderline fear racing across those brown orbs. I could feel her hands tightening their hold on my shirt above my chest. To any onlooker, it looked like we were about to have a passionate kiss, but to me – it was like she was holding onto me for dear life.

And, in truth, I couldn’t blame her. It was one thing to watch your partner/husband/soulmate wrestle and endanger himself, that’s something she had come to terms with as she and I had worked through SCW together for the first five or six years. But this wasn’t about me – this was her baby boy. Her baby that wanted to enter a world – my world. A world that was, admittedly, whittling me down more and more with each match. A world that had scarred my face and eye, wrecked my knee and nearly destroyed our relationship of Solgemia. 

Remember that ‘balance’ I told you about? That wanting to be a good wrestler AND a good parent/husband? Well, hearing those words from Marina – seeing those notions in my head kicked the damn thing into overdrive. Suddenly, I was seeing my son being set on fire or put through four or five tables, or nailed in the knee with a wrench, or put through a table that was on fucking fire…

I cannot convey the panic that raced through me in those brief seconds of envisioning. Or the way my mind raced with denial up and down and in all directions. Yeah, it was WAY different to envision my son doing this then when I had to watch Marina do such things against the likes of Syren and Regan Street. 

But panicking? I couldn’t do that. Marina was worried enough with me in that damn chamber in another week or so – though now I had a firmer understanding at WHY she was so worried, having pictured my son there. So, as slowly as I could, I took a deep breath, exhaling it to try and press my concerns and sparks of anxiety down before offering her a comforting smile.

“He’s eight, Marina.” I offered, squeezing her tight to me. “I’ll bet he also wants to be Spider-Man when he grows up. Or an astronaut.”
“I guess, but…”
“Trust me.” I smiled. “Soon as he gets older, he lose interest in whatever I ‘did’ back when he was a kid. He’ll just see the beat-up old man that is his father, or even roll his eyes ‘My dad’s a wrestler?’ geez! See?” I offered with a bit of flourish.
“You think so?”
“Oh come on!” I laughed. “You think Hugh Jackman’s kids like hearing that their dad is Wolverine? Or Wayne Gretzky’s kids like hearing about their dad and hockey?” I shook my head. “He’s going to get tired of hearing about his old dad and mom and want to get as far away from wrestling as possible.”

She seemed to think about that for a moment, with me hoping my words made a degree of sense. Casting her gaze to the side to eye Memphis, it was like she was regarding him in study, as if she was picturing him ten or fifteen years down the round, a young boy on the verge of becoming an adult. Would he look more like me (I hope not) or more like her? Would he still be the polite boy with some quirks and tantrums (that he got from me – the manners from Marina) or would puberty transform him into something else entirely?

Neither of us could be sure, but…

“We’ve got time.” I whispered. “I mean, did you turn out the way your parents wanted you too?”
“I became the Empress.” She reminded me.
“Not anymore!” I countered. “You’re now a suburban mom!”
Her eyes widened for a moment before a smile cracked across her features. “I AM a suburban mom!” she agreed. “I’ve got a Parent-Teacher thing later this week!”
“Damn right you do!” I whispered, not wanting to curse in front of the kids too loudly.
“Memphis has hockey coming up!” she added.
“Yes, he does!”
“Hell, depending on how late it is tonight… I might even do…” her eyes fluttered at me. “A sudoku puzzle!”
“How suburban of you!” I teased before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “See? Kids don’t always end up like their parents. We’ve got a good decade before we have to worry about Memphis becoming a wrestler.” I added with a laugh. “I think he has a better chance of becoming Spider-Man than following me.”
“I hope so.” Marina sighed. “Not because of you – I mean – what you, what we’ve done in SCW-“
“I know what you meant.” I smiled.

The matter seemingly settled, Marina continued walking down the street with me, the two of us ‘chasing’ our son in his conquest for more and more candy. 

Still, Marina’s concern had brought a thought to my head, forcing me to watch Memphis as he continued his escapade. 

And, I’ll admit this to you guys, as I watched him… I saw something. A spring in his step or a gleam in his eye… I’m not sure what it was I kept seeing but it was something that he had that I use to have. Something that was just…there. Something that, when I had it, I was the greatest entertainer in SCW. The Blood-Stained Joker. The Necro-Merchant. The Showman of the Spotlight…

Something that I had not felt in many years…

But Memphis had it – whatever it was – I knew he had it. Which left me quietly begging the question. If my son had it… where did mine go?


****************************************************************

The Carnival of Rust

Well, well, well… Hello Chamber-combatants and soon-to-be-entertained!

Seems like we’re quite the collective here. We’re not only the individuals that have proven ourselves to belong in the realm of the Adrenaline championship one way or another, most of us are, effectively, the rejects of the Trios Tournament! Screw ‘the meek shall inherit the earth’! I saw “Rise up, rejects!” and let’s steal the show!

Because that’s the opportunity that we have when we come to Florida this Sunday for Under Attack! 

Don’t believe me? Are you all so distracted by the prospect of winning/keeping hold of the Adrenaline title that you don’t see what we’re part of? That wouldn’t surprise me considering you, Jordan Majors, and your latest debacle with a match becoming a match to decide the new, reborn Underground Champion, or you, Ace, that gets distracted when he hurts his dick or looked at a table for a few months.

But perhaps, as the more observant entertainer that sees all the angles and gimmicks, I can enlighten you all at what we are apart of. And it has to do with the metal-monstrosity that will soon surround us. 

The Chamber.

See, guys, Under Attack has been around the SCW airwaves for about 16 years. Longer than any of us have, including you, Ace. And for all 16 of those years, the demonic structure known by such names as ‘The Elimination Chamber’, ‘The Death Chamber’ or simply ‘The Chamber’ has remained. There has not been a time where Under Attack did not involve this metallic-structure at least once. It’s as iconic as the pay-per-view itself!

And that is what our match entails. We hold that history in our hands. While other matches are either forgettable or shrouded in controversy like the World title and the tournament that shunned us, WE are brought in to take part of this historic legacy. All for the Adrenaline championship.

Why am I fixated on that? Fixated on the chamber? Well, it’s a decent question, but, I think I should ask… how are any of you not?

Do you think, Jordan, that this match will be no more brutal that that match you threw against Kimberly Williams that crowned her the new Underground Champion? Do you think your simple ‘cage’ match with Syren years ago compares? Or perhaps your little tiffs with my old “House of Ruin” mate, Nicole Kinneck? Do you think those compare?

Or has that not crossed your mind? Are you still distracted, my dear, of your own curse? The inevitable choking that follows you everywhere you go. I mean, hate to break this to you, child, but you stand as the only combatant in this entire match to have NEVER held an SCW title. Hell, even Ricky James has held the television title at least once, hasn’t he? But you, despite your talents?

I am reminded of that old adage, “Always a bridemaid, never a bride…”. For regardless of how amazing you are, my dear, success seems to allude you when it counts. Whether it was coming second place in the Tag-League earlier this year, coming up shy when the world picked you at the End of the Year to challenge for the World title some time ago, being an ironwoman in Taking Hold of the Flame at one point – always so so close…but never truly succeeding. 

Tell me, Jordan, is THAT what haunts you more than this chamber? Do you believe that is your greatest fear and not this monstrosity? 

Heh heh heh… so naïve. 

You will not see such naivety from me, my dear. And unlike Ace Marshall, I won’t be downplaying and scoffing in this structure while my eyes tell I different story. My words are both entertaining and truthful, because you must realize what people like Ace Marshall and myself know. 

Do you want to know why this structure has survived nearly twenty years of repeated emergence in the world of SCW? Why it keeps coming back as a staple of Under Attack? 

Because there is no match deadlier than this. Than a handful of people locked inside this beast of a cage and told that the last one standing is the winner and NO ONE can leave…until there is one. Take it from someone that did more than just cage matches like you, Jordan. Who did more than a TLC match like you, Ricky James. Who did more than simply fight in an abandoned house like Minerva. 

Take it from a man that has done it all! Take it from someone that has lost more than just a title in this damned world that is SCW!

This match, the old lines ring true. It shaves years off your career. It endangers lives. It changes people forever. Those aren’t just lines Sharper, Knots and Lyman are going to throw around for ‘hype value’. They are true. The metal that can bash and cut. The plexiglass that can break in and fall on the occupant of a pod. The heights you can climb…and the heights you can fall… bother figuratively AND literally.

If you want to hear it said differently, why don’t any of you ask Ace Marshall?

Do you remember, Ace? Oh, relax! I am not ‘too concerned’ about bringing up the past few months of our issues. Because I’ve gotten what I wanted. My issues with so many people, locked in a chamber where feuds go to die. Where the board is cleared once and for all. So, whatever I feel I am owed from you, I will surely have the time to take from you inside this structure. Bit by bit. Bone by bone. Second by second.

So, on perhaps a lighter subject, if only marginally, why don’t you tell us how this structure changed you? Why don’t you tell us how you, the World Champion four years ago were silenced inside this chamber to the point where you were driven to become a cheerleader for years before you came back full-time…and even then… no world title, I see. So close back at RTG…but the Ace Marshall I knew…well, shall we blame you? Or was it this chamber that changed you, Ace? Was it this chamber that put you on the shelf? Made you old and cold? Or will you just scoff and dismiss as not caring – typical of a man that needs his own cheerleading squad just to show up to work.

You see, my friends, there is truly only two of us that know of the depths of cruelty this structure incites. Far more than Minerva and her Jackals, far worse than an Underground match, and far more life-changing than even… I can’t believe I am saying this… than the main-event at Rise to Greatness.

And the reason I am speaking about this to all of you, the ignorant: Majors, James, and Minerva is because I want you three to understand. I want you three to understand what is at stake and what is coming for us. I want to impress upon you all the absolute entertainment that is coming from this bloodthirsty structure and the real dangers all of you are in – that we all are in. Because I know how desperate all of you will be to win this match.

As I said, Jordan, you want to finally have that SCW title in your hands, don’t you? To stop being an ‘almost’ or a ‘never was’ and cross that threshold into the “champion” realm. I know Ace is desperate to forget how he failed back in July on the biggest SCW show of the year. I know Minerva wants something to distract her from her ‘daddy issues’ and ‘flower allergies’ it would seem and Ricky…well, you just seem happy to be here, so good for you…

Every one of us – every person I have named here – I don’t doubt that we’re all willing to kill each other to become Adrenaline champion. I do not doubt that even a little. We’ve all got our reasons and we’re all willing to do anything to get what we want…

But if that is all it is about to all of you:
A curse.
Winning a title.
Beating someone up.

I will tell you that it won’t matter what the hell you bring to this structure, you will fall and you will fail!

Are you kidding? You think this beast of a cage cares about your curse, Jordan? Your ‘eagerness’ to be a champion, Ricky? You think it gives a damn about you and your mental issues, Ace? Minerva?

This chamber wants our blood, our sweat, our tears, our broken bones, our shattered dreams, our very souls. Like a damn glutton, it wants it all and whoever can survive it will be the Adrenaline champion – a prize that borders on ‘consolation’ for all that was sacrificed for it. That isn’t a slam to the title I held for over six months – that’s just how high the price is to survive this chamber. And it’s the ONLY way that one of will survive this coming Sunday!

And then there’s me… the reborn ‘burning man’ of sorts. And really, with me, my reasons might even bring in a few laughs from all of you. See, I’m not in this for some curse. I’m not in this simply to win a title. I’m not in this to beat someone up that deserves it. I’m not even entirely in this for the entertainment!

What drives – what IS driving me – to step into this structure is the fact that I was once like most of you. Ignorant and believing myself to be untouchable. I believed that I could survive anything because I survived a little pryo to the face. Because I went through a royale from start to finish and won the damn thing. Because I did the impossible like headlining three Rise to Greatness main-events in a row.

Then... eight years ago, I stepped into the chamber… and part of me never left it.

Eight years ago, at this very pay-per-view, in this very chamber, I walked in as the World Champion against members of the Coalition… and I was the last one eliminated. I was destroyed by this structure and no matter how hard I fought, no matter how tough I thought I was, no matter how much pain and suffering I had endured up to that point of my life and no matter what I had accomplished… the chamber laughed at me as if to say ‘you haven’t experienced anything yet!’ before I was annihilated and left on the mat, no longer the World champion… And really, no longer the same Shilo Valiant.

Because you can check the history books. That loss was the beginning of the end for me! It was a slow descent from there, slow but steady. I never wore the World title again. I never fought in the chamber again. I couldn’t compete at that same level against the likes of Regan Street and Xander Valentine. The world saw it – Shilo Valiant was not the same. And further down I spiraled until…one day...I had to leave.

And for years I stayed away – abandoning that part of me to this hellish-structure. Until I… I almost forgot about it. I almost forgot about that part of me. That part of me I had lost inside the chamber. I was able to come back and wrestle again, even dominate the Adrenaline division longer than anyone has this year! 

But the Chamber calls again – like it’s just been waiting for me to return.

I should be afraid. I should be. Just like all of you should be. But I’m not. I’m actually sorry. I’m sorry that it took me so long to step back into it!

Because this Sunday, my ignorant friends, I will be more than happy to feed the chamber your curses and your dreams and your psychopathic mindsets… but I will not be feeding it anymore of me. And I will not be fighting just for my Adrenaline title or what I am owed.

I will be fighting the chamber and all within it for the part of Shilo Valiant that has been locked inside that chamber like a caged animal for eight long years! I will FREE Shilo Valiant this Sunday and emerge once more as the full, unrestrained showman that I was! 

And after all of that is done – after I have conquered the monster of the chamber and regained what I lost, I will then climb this chamber, title with me, and stand above it, its metal under my boots, and I will raise the title – the complete Shilo Valiant once more. Defiant, conqueror of this damned monster-chamber of metal, leaving it no other choice but to sourly feast on all of you as a consolation of its own!

That, my dear friends, is what awaits all of us and that, you ignorant fools, oh that will most surely… Make Me Laugh!



Oh! One more thing before I forget – For those of you wondering why I missed one particular person in my warnings here… don’t you worry…

WE will be taking care of her very soon…

Heh heh heh… HA! HA! HA!

HA! HA! HA!