Thread: {Braiddan} Title Pending{Atzura}

The New Alhambra Arena in South Philadelphia, the venue for the upcoming Pioneer Wrestling Association show, and their biggest show of the year. The Seventh year Anniversary show, the only show where every title is defended, and the opening night of the Who's the Man tournament. Every year the show had a great turn out, despite the fact that the company had never once graced a television screen. Every wrestler in the back was changing into their ring attire, anticipating their big match, except for one. The twenty-five year old Jacob Figgins found out that he was not booked for the big event, something was up. So, he went straight to the front office, where the owner hid out before the event. Not even bothering to knock, he stepped into the office. Hey man, you called me last week and said I was in the tournament. Now, I look at the match card and find out I'm not. What's the deal. PWA owner Fred Williams, a rather portly fellow with thinning brown hair looked up with his calculating blue eyes. Jacob, I was just about to send for you. To put it quite simply, we have been in debt the past few months, and even with the turnout tonight, we'll barely have enough to break even. The board and I have decided to let a few people go, and you are the first. The green hues of Figgins focused on his boss as his eye lids narrowed. Jacob and Fred had never gotten along. It seemed the only reason he stayed on the roster for so long is because he made the man money, but now that the economy was bad, he was of no use to the man. His hands clenched into fists, but he just grunted. Whatever man, don't feed me that 'it's only business' line of crap. I know why I was the first to be let go. But, no need to call security, just give me my check and I'll be on my way. Fred nodded and handed Jacob his check for the month. As soon as he got the check, Jacob left the office. Sure, he was angry about the whole ordeal, but there was a silver lining about it. For a little over a year, he was sending tapes of his matches to a globally known company by the name of Gladiator Pro wrestling. And it seemed they have finally watched his tapes, or caved from the amount of tapes he sent and granted him a try out match. Either way, he was going to go all out to make sure he got that spot on the roster. One Week Later Kempar Arena, Kansas City, Missouri. How Fitting that GPW granted him a try out match in his home town. With his final paycheck from PWA, he decided to make a good first impression by buying himself some new in ring attire. His old, worn, white long tights were replaced by red ones that simply had letters that read Fig Effect along the left leg in black. He also purchased new Elbow pads, knee pads, kick pads, and boots. He was about two hours early for the show, but he figured he'd get to know a few of his future co-workers before they are engrossed on getting their minds ready for their matches. After he signed all the legal forms and waivers to filled out, he went to the concession room, where most of the roster hung out. Popping a dollar into a near by machine he grabbed a bottle of water. He tried to approach the other workers, but he either received a shooing or a cold shoulder. He had heard that in bigger companies, that the roster can become quite cliquey, he guessed it was true.