Mirror Mirror

06.14.24 Wizink Center Madrid, Spain Fans watching ReVival 50 are treated to the video package hyping up Tropical Turmoil, but backstage in the Red Army dressing room are the Masters of the Moscowverse, looking at their monitor in shock after the beating Ivan Stanislav put on Jared Sykes. The watch party quickly comes to an end as Kenny’s phone rings, prompting the junior soldier to check the screen…realizing the call’s coming from his brother Jack. Kenny lets out a sigh as he answers the call. “Well that was a load of nothing,” Jack says on the other line, a mixture of snark and disappointment in his voice. “I thought the plan was to go after STRONK and Jared Sykes? You let your ringleader Ivan stomp Jarry, and--” “Hold up, you’re calling him Jarry too?” Kenny responds, confused and annoyed all at once at the informality behind Jack’s remarks. “Good lord, man, I hear enough of that around here with all the well wishes after…well, you saw what happened.” “I did,” remarks Jack with a huff. “After all that trash talk you had weeks and weeks ago, I’m shocked you let the big ol’ bear go after him.” “Ivan was on a mission tonight,” Kenny replies, garnering a nod from Randall nearby despite having no clue of the context. “And I sure as hell wasn’t going to get in his way.” “Okay,” Jack says rather sharply. “And what about STRONK?” “Please don’t start yelling his name over the phone.” “Sorry, what about Stronk? I thought your whole beef with him was over the attack on Ivan at Culture Shock?” “Ivan made it very clear that the hostilities between them have calmed down,” Kenny retorts with a light sigh, once again getting a slightly random nod of agreement from the Entertainer. “Besides, I have my eyes set on something I’ve not even had a sniff at since I joined PRIME…a championship.” Jack goes quiet on the other end of the line…until we can faintly hear laughter, as if he was trying not to be heard getting some amusement from Kenny finally making a goal in his career. “Is that so, bud? Finally decided that hanging around backstage and pretending to be Ivan’s foot soldier wasn’t enough, you’re gonna finally chase some gold?” “Why did you call me, again?” Kenny asks, taken aback by the tone and remarks coming from his own family. “Because surprisingly, I wanna wish you luck. I know we don’t see eye to eye on stuff at the moment, especially with this weird direction you’ve headed in your life, but I wanna see you succeed. The whole fam does, bro. Just do us a favor, okay?” “Sure.” “Get that win at Tropical Turmoil,” Jack says with a chuckle. “Then, go kick whoever’s ass you gotta to win a championship. Make the Freeman name one to be proud of, okay? “That’s two favors,” Kenny replies with a laugh of his own. “But I’ll do my best.” With that, the call comes to an end…and just in the nick of time, as the dressing room door opens to reveal Alexei Ruslan. “Gentlemen, the new era of the Red Army is upon us! Kenny, you saw the trouncing the Starshy Praporshchik gave Jared Sykes?” Kenny simply nods in response, much to the amusement of Ruslan who presses on with a hand on Freeman’s shoulder. “Good. That’s what we’re expecting of you come Tropical Turmoil…we believe in you, comrade.” - What a weird, wild road it’s been to Tropical Turmoil. I have been getting all riled up trying to go down a very different path…but the home stretch got me swerving like I was about to miss an exit on the freeway. That kinda tracks when you consider that I very nearly missed getting a chance to compete in beautiful Lisbon, Portugal. And I promise, this will be the last time I make reference to the road that could’ve been. The fact of the matter is, the world will never know what a fight between Kenny Freeman and Jared Sykes would’ve looked like…because Jared Sykes is too afraid to face me. In fact, he’s too afraid to face anyone but the man he looks at in the mirror every morning, wondering if he made the right choice in the end. The answer to that question belongs to him and his family, now…and to that, I say good riddance. I’m not even gonna get into it about Stronk, either…the less I talk about that big ol’ hunk of muscle the better. As it stands, my quarrel is not with Godson…instead, I turn my attention to the so-called Second Coming. I focus on the leader of KING, the one person in PRIME with enough guts to step up to me when seemingly no one else would. I appreciate the fact that Rose has accepted my challenge, because man…it sure would’ve sucked if my demand for a fight echoed across the reaches of the multiverse--or at least, the walls of the PRIME locker room. Rose, I have a favor to ask of you…I need you to look in the mirror and ask yourself if you’re ready for the fight that’s coming your way at Tropical Turmoil. All that training in the art of strikes, holds, and flippy shit is gonna go out the window when the bell rings and you find yourself across the ring from an angry Kenny Freeman. My anger is going to be justified by the thrashing I’m gonna give you. The opportunity I have at Tropical Turmoil is well worth the trouble I’ve been through, because beating you is gonna finally get me back on track and working toward my goal of winning a damn title in PRIME before the year is done…and lemme tell ya, I’ve got my eye on a couple of those in particular. The possibilities are as vast as the multiverse itself…and when I’m done, I can look at myself in the mirror and finally be proud. I’ll have a smile on my face, and a championship around my waist. …or maybe over my shoulder. I’ll figure that one out when I get there.