Post by Mikey Svarro on Jan 21, 2019 16:31:02 GMT -5
"RED-HEADED STEP CHILD"
The kitchen looks straight out of a Home Depot catalogue, compete with marble countertops and oak cabinets. Stolen straight out of someone’s idea of what a typical family kitchen should look like. You can almost smell the turkey dinner coming from the oven…
And oh damn, there’s Mikey Svarro, pulling out a damn turkey from his oven. Let’s be real though, this oven probably doesn’t belong to him at all, or for that matter, he more than likely didn’t even cook this turkey, but let’s pretend for the moment that he did. Svarro places the large pan atop of the kitchen counter with a loud thud.
“Can you believe that I speak to you now, from season THREE here within Union Battleground? Seems like just yesterday we were back in season one, where I went undefeated, and was never even given a title shot...those were the days…”
As he slides off his oven mitts, Mikey looks off into the distance with a nostalgic smile upon his face. But of course, sprinkling shade every which way.
“Sure there are some still left that have been around since the very first season, but those so-called big names all seem to have faded away. Tweeder disappeared into the win, we all know what happened to Emery, who knows where Dick Devereaux ran off to, that painted freak, you know the list continues on…”
With one motion, he moves the turkey from the pan to a nice, round serving dish, plopping it down. As he speaks, he carries it from the kitchen into the dining room.
“As we’ve lost people along the way, those that remained and those that joined us would agree that here within the Union Battleground, we’re nothing short of a family. I know that here in PHILADELPHIA, they’re big on brotherly love - on the connection of a family. We’ve been through some rough times all together, haven’t we? I could make that case that as a competitor, I could almost be considered the father figure, am I right? There’s not many that have walked these halls as long as I, with a record like mine.”
Placing the turkey in the center of the table, “While Kaelan Laughlin, my opponent in the next round of the Crown of the King Cobra tournament, is more like the red-headed step child…”
It’s a sight to behold!
The Voice of Wrestling pulls the chair at the head of the table out, taking a seat with...his family(?) at the dinner table. He maneuvers his chair into position, before glancing at his beautiful wife who sits across from him, and four amazing children. Two boys and two girls, of course, with the littlest girl in a highchair.
“You flew in here on your broomstick specifically for this tournament, and that’s alright, because Union Battleground is like America - in that we accept all sorts of refugees with open arms. Although, again like America, none of you should be expecting to WIN while you’re here. Least of all, the red-headed step child of the family.”
He looked to his oldest child, nodding his head with a giant smile. In response, the child nodded back as if it was some sort of life lesson that he was passing down.
“We love you, because we have to accept you as our family member, but boy do you stay fuckin’ up, don’t you?”
The mother picked up a giant knife, and began carving bits of turkey to place on each plate. All around the table, there were already various side dishes including corn on the cob, and a bowl of mashed potatoes, that the children were already helping themselves too.
“I mean, how many people did you hear praising your performance against your husband recently? How many people congratulated you, talked about that match like it was something novel? Sure, we can all sit around at the dinner table and nod our heads, telling Kaelan how great everything was but at the end of the day, ain’t nobody calling her the 4CW Ignition Champion. Kaelan couldn’t get the job done, and she came out empty-handed the way I see it. More than likely, because it was against a man, whether it be or husband or anyone else, she was outmatched from the start. But bless her heart, she tried.”
Retracting his plate from the woman we’ve been lead to believe is his wife, “Oh and she’s been trying SO hard in Rebellion too…”
Just as Mikey had done to his eldest child, he smiles and nods in the same way to his wife. She agrees with him, smiling and nodding, out of sympathy, of course.
“Clawing her way against any and every opponent to try getting ahold of that Rebellion Championship. Someone please, pass the potatoes and let’s all placate Kaelan once again for trying her hardest, let’s all pat her on the back the way everyone does and tell her a job well done. Now I know this most recent title shot she had she couldn’t compete in, due to the very same match we’ve just mentioned. However, correct me if I’m wrong, but Kaelan is still NOT the Rebellion Champion, she still hasn’t been able to reach the top, continually fuckin’ up.
Let’s not even start on that trainwreck that was her Union GP career. We get it Kae, you wanted to focus on your wrestling career and your marriage, but to me, it looks a whole lot like you starting something else that you just couldn’t finish. Just like Ignition Championship, just like the Rebellion Championship, and I’m willing to bet, just like the Crown of the King Cobra Championship.
BUT WAIT”
Svarro shouts at the top of his lungs, and his entire family stops. His wife even gasps, clutching a hand to her throat in shock. The youngest looks as if she’s about to break out in tears as they turn to Mikey with confusion.
“Your one saving grace, the one thing you bring to the table is that you did manage to walk away with the Kings Road Championship recently.”
Their shock turns to nervous laughter, as they begin eating again.
“Congrats Kaelan. Even though you openly said you had to change your in-ring tactics to finally better Jett Wilder in the ring, to finally see yourself with a title instead of falling flat on your face.”
Mikey looks down at his full plate, making a face of disgust, and breaking his little charade for the first time. We all knew it wouldn’t last much longer.
“So my only question, is which Kaelan Laughlin are we getting? Are we getting the Kaelan who is going to come up short no matter what, or are we getting the Kaelan who tossed her own morals out the window?”
Getting up from the table, “The answer - doesn’t really matter much, does it?”
Yep, Svarro was just about done playing family, and you could see it in his eyes. Whoever these people belonged to better come pick them up before the kids ended up put up for adoption, and the mom ended up pregnant again. *wink* Svarro walked away from the table, his family watching as he walked out a sliding glass door, slamming it behind him.
“Doesn’t matter which Kae you bring to the scene at Lights Out XXX, people are still going to chant your name, people are still going to want your win over mine, and I’m STILL going to be the one advancing. I have been here since season one, I still maintain my undefeated record, and not once have I been given any sort of nod my way. I’ve waited for the exact right moment to strike, the way I always do, and this tournament has my name written all over it. It was mine from the very second my name was written down. You know this already Kae, I have a way of getting whatever the hell I want, at any mean necessary. What I want is the Crown of the King Cobra Championship, and you’re the next to be eliminated.”
He slides a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket, picking up a lighter with the same hand. Mikey never breaks eye contact with the camera as he places a cancer stick into his mouth and quickly lights it.
“I’ve done it in Global Championship Wrestling, Bare Bones Wrestling, Rebel Wrestling Federation, and the list continues on and on. These tournament gigs are my JAM. Besides getting women in my bed, it’s the very thing I do the best. You’re going up against a stacked deck right now Kae, and your history proves you don’t do so well in those situations.”
He shrugged, before pausing to take another rather large puff of his cigarette. From here, he hightails it out the back yard. He goes for the wooden fence, unlatching it and walks out onto the street, never looking back. We all know Mikey Svarro ain’t no family man.
“I’m the damn Daddy of Union Battleground, I deserve this more than anyone else in this tournament, even that junkie wannabe Whelan. At the end of the day, you’ll always be that girl that gets the sympathy pat on the back, the smiling nod of your head. You’ll always be a failure, a giant disappointment.”
From almost out of nowhere, his signature shades appear in his free hand.
“You’ll always be the Union Battleground’s red-headed step child.”
He flips them onto his face, grinning to the camera.
