Post by Charles Lee on Mar 17, 2012 8:47:08 GMT -6
12:30 PM
17 March 2012
San Jose, California
HP Pavilion
4 ½ hours before Trauma (If I have my timezone calculations right and camera’s start rolling at 8 PM EST)
It was very normal for Charles Lee to arrive at an arena early. In his earliest days, he’d often spend the night at the arena before the bigger events, to make his final preparations before his biggest matches. Quite often, not getting any real sleep, but moving about the arena to the furthest spots from the ring, imagining a fan sitting in some of the most far-away places and pondering how he would entertain that fan and make it an event they would never forget. Some matches, he knew he succeeded, while others; he knew he failed.
But on this day, he was hoping to have the ‘luck of the irish’ when he showed up unannounced to the HP Pavilion. His motives were clear as day. He wished to seek audience with the one that was pulling all the strings at the moment for New Championship Wrestling, Kelly Knite.
Wearing blue jeans and an old Regulators T-shirt from his days in SAWF, he knew he had to definitely get some of his own nCw merchandise out there to sell, but he had only two appearances thus far and knew that was a little bit further in the future yet for him. He opted for the Regulators shirt, picking it over the other shirt from his UTW days, when he ran a group known as, ‘Sugar Tits’. He doubted his audience would appreciate such a thing. Despite he was the ‘Sugar’ and Brian ‘Titykaka’ Jones was the ‘Tits’, in the operation. The fact that Electra Rivers was in the group, was merely a smoke and mirror routine. Not to mention helped target those adolescent boys that watched each week.
Checking himself outside the door, he knew a few people had arrived and naturally ‘the boss’ was one of them. He knocked and waited.
“Just a minute.”
He was familiar with her voice having watched enough Collision episodes to know that she donned the headset as the show’s commentator. She had two things going against her in this upcoming meeting. The first, she was a female running things. Charles Lee had worked for just two females in the past. He got what he wanted from them, usually by wooing them into his bed. And as for the commentating part, that was the second thing. It’s how he met wife number one. He knew by wooing Autumn Rheiney into his bed, she would more than put him ‘over’ with her cutting edge commentary in UTW. But the one thing he also knew, Kelly seemed happily married and even had a daughter, so if he took hold strategies to heart and attempted to execute them, they would be very dangerous.
The door opened and he immediately thought when looking at her blonde hair, makeup already done, and she already dressed and ready for the show. Yes, she was definitely going to be professional, but she looked to be perhaps around his daughter’s age. Keeping it professional himself, he smiled.
SPF: “Hello, Mrs. Knite. I was wondering if we could talk about tonight.”
Kelly opened the door, looking past him for a moment, which he noticed and glanced back himself. But when there was no one or nothing behind him, he stepped into the office, and she closed the door behind her.
Kelly: “Charles Lee. Have you gotten the latest test results back from your concussion? I was under the impression you weren’t supposed to be in any arena, until they were complete and you passed them, please sit down.”
She was one hundred percent business. His old machinations were a lost cause, but for now he’d play his part and did as she requested sitting in a comfortable chair opposite of her desk, as she moved around it.
SPF: “Well, I’m waiting for the results. I thought they would be in by now. I was told they would be. I’m sure I passed.”
Kelly sat forward, locking her eyes onto Chuck’s a moment, and then steepled her fingers in front of her, as she tried to read him. He was trying to do the same, and after a long few moments of silence, she frowned.
Kelly: “Well, I’m afraid if you don’t have a passed test in writing, I cannot put you out there yet, Charles. I’m sorry.”
SPF: “Please, call me Chuck.”
He preferred it to people he was closest with and thought perhaps using this strategy might soften her up, making it a slight bit more personal.
SPF: “But, my headaches have all but gone away. I’m having no symptoms. Mrs. Knite, please. This business is my livelihood. Being away from it and shutting off from it, I realized in those years, that I might as well be dead. Coming back, although my first match did not go my way, and my second appearance, I was snuck up on from behind by a man who names himself after a Jim Carrey character, who thinks he’s God’s gift to this business. I knew at that moment I signed my nCw contract that I had to do this. I was born to do this.”
Kelly listened intently to his every word, but shook her head.
Kelly: “I’m sorry Mr. Lee. The laws restrict anyone that isn’t medically cleared to compete, to compete. Putting you out there, after that contract that you mentioned signing would be bad for the business. It would be bad for nCw and it would be way too risky for you.”
Chuck began to feel his insides beginning to boil. She was not going to budge and he was used to getting his way. Before he even knew what he was doing, he bounced up to his feet, knocked off a cup that had pens and pencils off of her desk, which caused her to flinch, albeit she did not take her eyes off of him.
SPF: “Laws or no laws. You’re father would have me out there. You disappoint me.”
Turning slightly, he pulls up his shirt and on his lower right side, a scar that is nearly eighteen inches long.
SPF: “2001, a nail ripped open this side. Seventy eight stitches. It got infected, but I competed the next four weeks, despite it.”
Lifting his foot up onto the desk, he pulled up his left pant leg to the knee. Below it, there was obvious discoloring in a rather large patch.
SPF: “2003, Sixty minute Iron Man Extreme Match, my opponent Rekon threw a pack of C-4 to take out a leg. I experienced third degree burns, but was back out competing the next week.”
Pointing to his head, and eyeing Kelly, somewhat wide-eyed.
SPF: “My bell has been rung more times than probably your entire roster, and every time. I’m back that next week, competing and winning. Why? Because I believe in myself, my abilities and that I’m the absolute most resilient and best wrestler, Veronica Venom, Liz Ryan, Flash Redux and yourself, will ever have on your rosters. So, get me on your ****ing show.”
Kelly sat for only another moment before standing up, looking Charles Lee in the eye. Her demeanor hardened the moment he knocked her pencil holder off of her desk.
Kelly: “I’m sorry, no passed test, no show.”
Charles looked defeated as he peeled his eyes from her. He taking a deep breath, he walked over to the side of her desk, her eyes following him as he picked up the pencil/pen holder and the scattered pens and pencils that were nearby, and put them back on the desk. Not looking up at her, he turned and left.
Minutes later…
He looked at his phone. He had one missed call and a voice message. He stood outside his rental car in the parking ramp of the HP Pavilion. His heart picked up as he dialed the voicemail and eyes widened as he recognized the voice as his doctor.
Doctor Reynolds: “Hey Chuck, this is Doctor Reynolds. Your tests are back. Remember when you first came in, you scored a 90, and needed a 95 cumulative score for passing. I’m sorry to say that your score is 89. Please give a call sometime next week, when you are feeling better to schedule another test. Have a wonderful…”
SPF: “**** you!!!”
Throwing his iPhone into a concrete pillar, it shattered as was Charles Lee’s hopes of competing that weekend. What was worse was his score went down, not up from his barrage of concussion tests. He slowly slumped to the side of his car, his phone in pieces six feet away. His hands covering his face, he did not even notice the figure stopped next to his shattered phone, obviously surveying the scene…
TBC
17 March 2012
San Jose, California
HP Pavilion
4 ½ hours before Trauma (If I have my timezone calculations right and camera’s start rolling at 8 PM EST)
It was very normal for Charles Lee to arrive at an arena early. In his earliest days, he’d often spend the night at the arena before the bigger events, to make his final preparations before his biggest matches. Quite often, not getting any real sleep, but moving about the arena to the furthest spots from the ring, imagining a fan sitting in some of the most far-away places and pondering how he would entertain that fan and make it an event they would never forget. Some matches, he knew he succeeded, while others; he knew he failed.
But on this day, he was hoping to have the ‘luck of the irish’ when he showed up unannounced to the HP Pavilion. His motives were clear as day. He wished to seek audience with the one that was pulling all the strings at the moment for New Championship Wrestling, Kelly Knite.
Wearing blue jeans and an old Regulators T-shirt from his days in SAWF, he knew he had to definitely get some of his own nCw merchandise out there to sell, but he had only two appearances thus far and knew that was a little bit further in the future yet for him. He opted for the Regulators shirt, picking it over the other shirt from his UTW days, when he ran a group known as, ‘Sugar Tits’. He doubted his audience would appreciate such a thing. Despite he was the ‘Sugar’ and Brian ‘Titykaka’ Jones was the ‘Tits’, in the operation. The fact that Electra Rivers was in the group, was merely a smoke and mirror routine. Not to mention helped target those adolescent boys that watched each week.
Checking himself outside the door, he knew a few people had arrived and naturally ‘the boss’ was one of them. He knocked and waited.
“Just a minute.”
He was familiar with her voice having watched enough Collision episodes to know that she donned the headset as the show’s commentator. She had two things going against her in this upcoming meeting. The first, she was a female running things. Charles Lee had worked for just two females in the past. He got what he wanted from them, usually by wooing them into his bed. And as for the commentating part, that was the second thing. It’s how he met wife number one. He knew by wooing Autumn Rheiney into his bed, she would more than put him ‘over’ with her cutting edge commentary in UTW. But the one thing he also knew, Kelly seemed happily married and even had a daughter, so if he took hold strategies to heart and attempted to execute them, they would be very dangerous.
The door opened and he immediately thought when looking at her blonde hair, makeup already done, and she already dressed and ready for the show. Yes, she was definitely going to be professional, but she looked to be perhaps around his daughter’s age. Keeping it professional himself, he smiled.
SPF: “Hello, Mrs. Knite. I was wondering if we could talk about tonight.”
Kelly opened the door, looking past him for a moment, which he noticed and glanced back himself. But when there was no one or nothing behind him, he stepped into the office, and she closed the door behind her.
Kelly: “Charles Lee. Have you gotten the latest test results back from your concussion? I was under the impression you weren’t supposed to be in any arena, until they were complete and you passed them, please sit down.”
She was one hundred percent business. His old machinations were a lost cause, but for now he’d play his part and did as she requested sitting in a comfortable chair opposite of her desk, as she moved around it.
SPF: “Well, I’m waiting for the results. I thought they would be in by now. I was told they would be. I’m sure I passed.”
Kelly sat forward, locking her eyes onto Chuck’s a moment, and then steepled her fingers in front of her, as she tried to read him. He was trying to do the same, and after a long few moments of silence, she frowned.
Kelly: “Well, I’m afraid if you don’t have a passed test in writing, I cannot put you out there yet, Charles. I’m sorry.”
SPF: “Please, call me Chuck.”
He preferred it to people he was closest with and thought perhaps using this strategy might soften her up, making it a slight bit more personal.
SPF: “But, my headaches have all but gone away. I’m having no symptoms. Mrs. Knite, please. This business is my livelihood. Being away from it and shutting off from it, I realized in those years, that I might as well be dead. Coming back, although my first match did not go my way, and my second appearance, I was snuck up on from behind by a man who names himself after a Jim Carrey character, who thinks he’s God’s gift to this business. I knew at that moment I signed my nCw contract that I had to do this. I was born to do this.”
Kelly listened intently to his every word, but shook her head.
Kelly: “I’m sorry Mr. Lee. The laws restrict anyone that isn’t medically cleared to compete, to compete. Putting you out there, after that contract that you mentioned signing would be bad for the business. It would be bad for nCw and it would be way too risky for you.”
Chuck began to feel his insides beginning to boil. She was not going to budge and he was used to getting his way. Before he even knew what he was doing, he bounced up to his feet, knocked off a cup that had pens and pencils off of her desk, which caused her to flinch, albeit she did not take her eyes off of him.
SPF: “Laws or no laws. You’re father would have me out there. You disappoint me.”
Turning slightly, he pulls up his shirt and on his lower right side, a scar that is nearly eighteen inches long.
SPF: “2001, a nail ripped open this side. Seventy eight stitches. It got infected, but I competed the next four weeks, despite it.”
Lifting his foot up onto the desk, he pulled up his left pant leg to the knee. Below it, there was obvious discoloring in a rather large patch.
SPF: “2003, Sixty minute Iron Man Extreme Match, my opponent Rekon threw a pack of C-4 to take out a leg. I experienced third degree burns, but was back out competing the next week.”
Pointing to his head, and eyeing Kelly, somewhat wide-eyed.
SPF: “My bell has been rung more times than probably your entire roster, and every time. I’m back that next week, competing and winning. Why? Because I believe in myself, my abilities and that I’m the absolute most resilient and best wrestler, Veronica Venom, Liz Ryan, Flash Redux and yourself, will ever have on your rosters. So, get me on your ****ing show.”
Kelly sat for only another moment before standing up, looking Charles Lee in the eye. Her demeanor hardened the moment he knocked her pencil holder off of her desk.
Kelly: “I’m sorry, no passed test, no show.”
Charles looked defeated as he peeled his eyes from her. He taking a deep breath, he walked over to the side of her desk, her eyes following him as he picked up the pencil/pen holder and the scattered pens and pencils that were nearby, and put them back on the desk. Not looking up at her, he turned and left.
Minutes later…
He looked at his phone. He had one missed call and a voice message. He stood outside his rental car in the parking ramp of the HP Pavilion. His heart picked up as he dialed the voicemail and eyes widened as he recognized the voice as his doctor.
Doctor Reynolds: “Hey Chuck, this is Doctor Reynolds. Your tests are back. Remember when you first came in, you scored a 90, and needed a 95 cumulative score for passing. I’m sorry to say that your score is 89. Please give a call sometime next week, when you are feeling better to schedule another test. Have a wonderful…”
SPF: “**** you!!!”
Throwing his iPhone into a concrete pillar, it shattered as was Charles Lee’s hopes of competing that weekend. What was worse was his score went down, not up from his barrage of concussion tests. He slowly slumped to the side of his car, his phone in pieces six feet away. His hands covering his face, he did not even notice the figure stopped next to his shattered phone, obviously surveying the scene…
TBC