Post by The Chuft Guy on Jul 14, 2011 17:41:42 GMT
March 2nd 2008 is a night I will never forget. That was the night of my attack. I was making an appearance at a local nightclub with The Predator, celebrating his FWF World Heavyweight Championship win. We went outside and were jumped by a gang of yobs. Predator still hadn't recovered from his Genesis V match with Pain, so he could barely fight them off. Both of us were badly beaten and left in comas. Predator came out of his just hours later, but I was trapped. Trapped inside my thoughts. The doctors said I wasn't going to make it. I could hear everything. My body was giving up and they were already considering this a murder hunt. I was written off as soon as I arrived.
It was the story of my life. With a name like Louis Chuftee, I was prone to having the piss taken out of me. Growing up in The Eyrie was a tough life. We had kids calling me "Pufftee." For the record, how original is that? Despite that I walked everywhere with a smile on my face. Predator used to joke that my mouth was stapled into a permanent grin.
Believe it or not, Predator was prone to abuse too. Kids in The Eyrie have always been bastards. Mark, myself and the others in our group were once invited to a party, and walked for three hours looking for the place, only to be told we weren't welcome. None of us thought we could recover from such embarrassment, yet we all did. Predator became an internationally renowned wrestler, touring all over, Elexis Winters became a successful talk show host, and Littles Chivez became a quantity surveyor for a top construction company. When it was the mid-nineties, they all had their success, and I was still at home on my own. I'd spent a year in Spain but at the time, languages weren't in demand. I spent a couple of years doing odd jobs but attaining no success, and as much as I read in the magazines, I wasn't as much of a hit with the ladies as I hoped.
That all changed in 1997 when I watched Marcus Brody successfully win the UCW Championship from "Captain" Joe Stall at Hardcore Heaven VIII. The clash of their styles was awe-inspiring. The way that he would use his technique to compromise Joe's power and size. I was a fairly skinny man, at ten stone soaking wet (that's 140 lbs if you're wondering.)
If Mark could become a wrestler, then so could I. I trained under Marcus Brody for a couple of years before touring the country myself, under the mask of "Legendary" El Dorado, a name I regret not using all the time. People seemed to like that I was The Chuft Guy. It was Sandy Strachon who gave me the name. He wanted me to fail it seemed, but people reacted to me, and I tore the house down with The Predator on a Saturday Stampede Special in 2002 where I made him tap out to the Bladebreaker to win the Intercontinental title. No one had made him tap in his career. I rose up the ranks and came to earn many a shot at the UCW Championship, albeit unsuccessful shots. I was always a bridesmaid, never a bride. I was written off but I proved myself.
I remember March 27th 2008 as well. I could hear the voices. They'd switched off my life support and I could hear Predator's voice.
"I guess this is goodb-"
And Marcus Brody's interruption.
"No it's not! Look! Look at his hand!"
I made a miraculous recovery and woke up from my coma. Sure, I was paralysed but thanks to Mark, I was able to have surgery to let me walk again.
It wasn't until late 2009 that I was able to walk. Doctors had written me off, saying I'd never walk again. They were wrong. Not only was I quick to be back on my feet, I was even quicker back in the ring. At the start of 2010, Marcus brought me into the UCW School in Wrestling to let me shake off my ring rust. It wasn't long after that I was on the independents making homeslices tap to the Bladebreaker and scoring pins with the French Toast Pop. I even won the British Independent Championship, which I since lost to FWF's MTB. But I could still do it. They said I could never wrestle again. They were wrong.
And now, thanks to some contacts, I was able to get hired again by FWF. My match would against familiar and unfamiliar. There was The Top Dog, who I'd battled back in UCW, and newcomer Dagger Dave. I didn't know much about him, apart from him being 6' tall and 233lbs, and that he was making his FWF debut. He'd be looking to get a win at the expense of some veterans and forge his new path. For me, this is about doing what I failed to do years ago, and become the bride- to win the World Championship. I didn't want to just be The Chuft Guy: one of the greatest UCW Intercontinental Champions of all time. I wanted to be The Chuft Guy, the greatest World Champion of all time. I'd be written off again. But I want them to be wrong.
As I headed through the backstage area to my match, I caught a familiar face sitting by a monitor with a face of stone. He'd had some success since returning too, becoming the number one contender for the FWF Universal Championship, a title that paid homage to our old stomping grounds of UCW. Marcus Brody turned and his face softened. He got off his rear and gave me a warm hug.
"Hey there. It's been a while. How's my old partner?"
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that we were the FWF Tag Team Champions for three weeks back in 2006, The Technical Dream.
"I'm good, homeslice. I'm back on my feet, and I'm ready to tear it up like I used to. Maybe some day soon I'll be challenging you for the Universal title?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Good luck out there, Chuft."
"Thanks, homeslice."
I began walking off but I felt an urge.You know, I think it's time for one of them classic Chuft Guy mannerisms. I walked back to Marcus, looked him in the eye and yelled in his face:
"DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"
"Flux" by Bloc Party hit the arena and I charged to the curtain, ready to make my triumphant return to FWF. I won't be written off any more!
It was the story of my life. With a name like Louis Chuftee, I was prone to having the piss taken out of me. Growing up in The Eyrie was a tough life. We had kids calling me "Pufftee." For the record, how original is that? Despite that I walked everywhere with a smile on my face. Predator used to joke that my mouth was stapled into a permanent grin.
Believe it or not, Predator was prone to abuse too. Kids in The Eyrie have always been bastards. Mark, myself and the others in our group were once invited to a party, and walked for three hours looking for the place, only to be told we weren't welcome. None of us thought we could recover from such embarrassment, yet we all did. Predator became an internationally renowned wrestler, touring all over, Elexis Winters became a successful talk show host, and Littles Chivez became a quantity surveyor for a top construction company. When it was the mid-nineties, they all had their success, and I was still at home on my own. I'd spent a year in Spain but at the time, languages weren't in demand. I spent a couple of years doing odd jobs but attaining no success, and as much as I read in the magazines, I wasn't as much of a hit with the ladies as I hoped.
That all changed in 1997 when I watched Marcus Brody successfully win the UCW Championship from "Captain" Joe Stall at Hardcore Heaven VIII. The clash of their styles was awe-inspiring. The way that he would use his technique to compromise Joe's power and size. I was a fairly skinny man, at ten stone soaking wet (that's 140 lbs if you're wondering.)
If Mark could become a wrestler, then so could I. I trained under Marcus Brody for a couple of years before touring the country myself, under the mask of "Legendary" El Dorado, a name I regret not using all the time. People seemed to like that I was The Chuft Guy. It was Sandy Strachon who gave me the name. He wanted me to fail it seemed, but people reacted to me, and I tore the house down with The Predator on a Saturday Stampede Special in 2002 where I made him tap out to the Bladebreaker to win the Intercontinental title. No one had made him tap in his career. I rose up the ranks and came to earn many a shot at the UCW Championship, albeit unsuccessful shots. I was always a bridesmaid, never a bride. I was written off but I proved myself.
I remember March 27th 2008 as well. I could hear the voices. They'd switched off my life support and I could hear Predator's voice.
"I guess this is goodb-"
And Marcus Brody's interruption.
"No it's not! Look! Look at his hand!"
I made a miraculous recovery and woke up from my coma. Sure, I was paralysed but thanks to Mark, I was able to have surgery to let me walk again.
It wasn't until late 2009 that I was able to walk. Doctors had written me off, saying I'd never walk again. They were wrong. Not only was I quick to be back on my feet, I was even quicker back in the ring. At the start of 2010, Marcus brought me into the UCW School in Wrestling to let me shake off my ring rust. It wasn't long after that I was on the independents making homeslices tap to the Bladebreaker and scoring pins with the French Toast Pop. I even won the British Independent Championship, which I since lost to FWF's MTB. But I could still do it. They said I could never wrestle again. They were wrong.
And now, thanks to some contacts, I was able to get hired again by FWF. My match would against familiar and unfamiliar. There was The Top Dog, who I'd battled back in UCW, and newcomer Dagger Dave. I didn't know much about him, apart from him being 6' tall and 233lbs, and that he was making his FWF debut. He'd be looking to get a win at the expense of some veterans and forge his new path. For me, this is about doing what I failed to do years ago, and become the bride- to win the World Championship. I didn't want to just be The Chuft Guy: one of the greatest UCW Intercontinental Champions of all time. I wanted to be The Chuft Guy, the greatest World Champion of all time. I'd be written off again. But I want them to be wrong.
As I headed through the backstage area to my match, I caught a familiar face sitting by a monitor with a face of stone. He'd had some success since returning too, becoming the number one contender for the FWF Universal Championship, a title that paid homage to our old stomping grounds of UCW. Marcus Brody turned and his face softened. He got off his rear and gave me a warm hug.
"Hey there. It's been a while. How's my old partner?"
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that we were the FWF Tag Team Champions for three weeks back in 2006, The Technical Dream.
"I'm good, homeslice. I'm back on my feet, and I'm ready to tear it up like I used to. Maybe some day soon I'll be challenging you for the Universal title?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Good luck out there, Chuft."
"Thanks, homeslice."
I began walking off but I felt an urge.You know, I think it's time for one of them classic Chuft Guy mannerisms. I walked back to Marcus, looked him in the eye and yelled in his face:
"DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"
"Flux" by Bloc Party hit the arena and I charged to the curtain, ready to make my triumphant return to FWF. I won't be written off any more!