Post by Travis Truth on Jul 27, 2009 6:17:48 GMT -7
At the very end of the locker complex, the last room on the left hand side, there is a long forgotten empty, unused room. Once upon a time, this room used to be a buzzing place of laughter, action, and general cameraderie. This was the former headquarters of Truth & Consquences, a Silver Division tag team that comprised of the Australian legend Luther, and a long forgotten Scot by the ring name of Travis Truth. These two were a huge draw in GHW, owing mostly to their time in the Bulldog faction. They were known for their unmissable promos and general baiting of every other wrestler in the company. Travis disappeared from the company 15 months ago, along with his fiancee and T&C manager, Krystal Santos. The room itself has taken on a Marie Celeste quality, having been untouched since Luther handed the keys to Aimee, Travis' personal assistant with the explicit orders that she should destroy them.
The settee, the LazyBoyand the throne still remain, as does the bookcase, the weight room and the workstation. On the desk is an old style Bakelite telephone, the kind that you had before touch dialling. Suddenly, for the first time in over a year, the phone starts its ear splitting ringing. The corridors are empty, save for one lone figure walking through the corridor on his way to the bar. He hears the phone, astounded to hear it ringing. He cocks his head to one side, sure he's hearing things. He tries the door handle, and to his shock, the door swings inwards...
Post by Travis Truth on Jul 29, 2009 2:54:40 GMT -7
The telephone continues its incessant cacophony, as a scarred and tattooed hand picks up the receiver.
Hello? Yeah, I just got here an hour ago.
Yes, I re-signed for the Hardcore Division.
No babe, I know. Uh-huh. Uh, are you sitting down?
He's here. In GHW. Dimitri f*cking Munstkov.
How do I know? I saw his car out front. No, I havent seen the Roller yet. Although the way his career's going I doubt he'll remember us. When do you fly out? Uh- huh. Sure. OK sweetheart, talk to you later. Right. Love you too. Goodbye.
The mystery man replaces the receiver and strokes his chin thoughtfully. He hadn't been in this building for well over a year. How the hell could the door have been unlocked? It's almost as if someone had expected his return...
He lops down on the La-Z-Boy and ponders his immediate future. Right now he wants to rest up for the night but knows that certain loose ends have to be tied up. For a start, he needs to know if Aimee still works here, she knew exactly how he operated. Probably the only person he could ever rely upon in the... no wait, he knew that that wasn't true. There was HIM. But HE had gone so far off the rails lately. He decides that with that one, he'll bide his time. As it stands, it's time to see Aimee. He drops his duffel bag in the corner, runs his hand through his hair and makes for the door. Good to be home...