LA Traffic (Fixed)

Roleplay Roleplay by SYNDICATE
On Thu, May11, 2017 7:37pm America/Phoenix
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LA Traffic (Fixed)

*Static ripples across the screen, followed by the camera switching over to a direct video feed from the inside of a Hyundai Elantra.  Here, Syndicate, the Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion, is seen waiting somewhat patiently as he is stuck in one of Los Angeles's infamous traffic jams.  Syndicate, dressed in a a white t-shirt and worn-down blue jeans, is wearing a slick pair of black sunglasses to shield his eyes from the harsh California sun.  The camera is positioned on the dashboard of the Hyundai, allowing the Undisputed World title belt to be seen resting on the passenger's seat.  Syndicate, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the armrest, begins to chuckle.*

Syndicate: Gotta love LA traffic.  All I need to do is drive to Las Vegas for some Ravage promo work, and I get to spend my time being surrounded by gas-guzzling cars and honking horns.  It would've been faster to go through LAX.

*He glances down at the World title to his right.*

Syndicate: You know, Kurtis, I'm kind of impressed.  I mean, I hit you straight in the head with the title belt, laid you out with the No Signal, and got the Machine a win.  But yet, after good ol' Tanno Waters came out and restarted the match, you had the intestinal fortitude to roll up Xavier for the win.  Good job!  But, while you might be celebrating your win, you also unwittingly proved my point.

*Syndicate pauses.*

Syndicate: Now, I don't know how often you check the WWX Heatbox, but I posted quite the scathing remark about you.  Let me see if I can find it.

*Noting that traffic is at an absolute standstill, Syndicate reaches down into the Hyundai's cupholder and grabs his LG G4 smartphone.  He unlocks the phone and scrolls through a list of messages until he finds the one he's looking for.*

Syndicate: Ah, yes, here we go.  "@KurtisRay You know what I love? Your abrupt turn of face. Just a few weeks ago, you were saying you had so much respect for me and my accomplishments. Did those chairshots change you that much?"

*The champion locks the phone and puts it back in the cupholder.*

Syndicate: You did not respond to that message, which leaves me wondering: am I right?  Did the No Signal onto the chairs at Deadlock really mess with your brain that much? something else at play, Kurtis?

*He smiles.*

Syndicate: Now, trust me when I say that I know a desperate man when I see one.  Hell, I was the exact same as you just months ago, after you took the coveted Undisputed World title away from me at Aftershock.  Desperate.  Willing to do anything to get the World title back.  Championships tend to do that to you, Kurtis.  But while you've changed, while you've thrown away the fans and resorted to cowardly acts of violence to advance your agenda, I've stayed the same.  I'm still here, I'm still your champion, and I'm still the best professional wrestler in the world today.  I've got moves that will knock you out cold, and I've got a title that I will risk death to protect., once again, are left with nothing but the clothes on your back and a shred of dignity.

*He looks around at the traffic surrounding him and chuckles once more.*

Syndicate: Just like how I'm not moving in traffic right now, I'm not moving off the top of the ladder.  If you think you can beat me one more time, if you think that you can rip this title back from my cold, dead hands, then come at me, bro.  But until then, until you complete that task, you will be nothing more than an asterisk in the history of this company.  You won a fluke match at Aftershock, walked into your first title defense at Deadlock with your head held high, and got your ass beat into the ground by the Los Angeles Outlaw.  THIS IS THE WWX, Kurtis.  You can't just throw a hissy fit every time you get thrown to the ground.

*Syndicate pats the World title placed next to him.*

Syndicate: You want this title, Kurtis Ray?  I dare you to come and get it.  But when you do, when you exercise your rematch clause and you get your match, don't say I didn't warn you when you get outwrestled AGAIN.  Welcome to the Syndicate.

*Syndicate looks out at the rows of traffic, sighs to himself, and firmly plants his hand on the Hyundai's horn.  The horn blares out just as the camera is overtaken by static.*


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