Post by adm on Jan 29, 2010 19:37:11 GMT -6
Metamorphosis
::Previous Day::
I am ready to leave for Metamorphosis. I feel I need to get there a few days early, just to get into the “LA Mindset”. Kendra is begging me to stay, and to go with in the same expression without talking.
“Kendra, last time you were at my side, you got hurt. I can’t have that.”
“You promise you’ll be home before you go back out on the road?”
“Only if you want me after what I do to Andrew.”
“Of course, I’ll always love you.”
Little did she know the plan for Andrew. And little did she know about what may transpire with my new attitude. I’m not prepared to say, but I give her a gentle kiss as I head out the door and amidst her tears, I know there will be far more to come in the near future.
::Present::
I am at the gym, working out on decent machinery when the cameras showed up. I stop my training for a second to acknowledge them, and move to the punching bag. I begin to assault it while in my shirtless glory, wearing my new simple black gym pants. I know exactly what I’m doing as I begin to speak, fire in my voice.
“So Andrew, your little callipygous friend is teasing you and tormenting you, I wonder if she’s getting to the underlying sexual tension between the two of you. See, any fool can see you want her, any man would. Even a married man like me, would want a piece. But the RULES say I can’t touch. But you know what I think about the rules after what I did to you on Trauma.”
Rules are meant to be broken, Andrew. And trust me; they’ll be broken again on Sunday just like I broke your head.
“See, you might be getting mad about my comments, about my thoughts of breaking apart my family, how I’m doing my best to hold together some semblance of morals while turning to the “dark side” but the truth is that morals don’t really exist. Existentialism states the very essence of man is to be selfish, and that any “morals” are chosen, and can, inversely, be un-chosen. And I am beginning to think after seven years of good marriage, I can do better.”
I kick the bag with all my might, knocking it almost off the chain. A twisted smirk crosses my face as I think about the bag being you, Andrew. I think about it and punch it so hard my hand begins to bleed.
“You see, I’m not afraid of pain, or hurting myself to get to you or any opponents now. I realize I was holding back the monster within. Everyone for the last year has seen my “Monster”. Angel talked about it quite often, and he said if I unleashed it, I could decimate him. Odd, he’s going to be World Champion come Metamorphosis and I’m still only fighting for half-hearted titles like yours just because I have failed to show what the monster can and will do. I need to become INFAMOUS, Andrew, and I will do just that, any way I can.”
I laugh to myself just a little, turning toward the door as I hear it slam loudly. Someone has entered with a very beautiful body, and a malleable mind. No, this is not one of the female wrestlers, but Carly Robins, the resident whore of the nCw interview crew. I seem to follow her move as her hips sway, oh how I’d love to abandon all my prior obligations for a single night with that, but I have work to do.
“You see, Andrew, I’ve held back so much it’s drained all semblance of character from me. I can’t help but think that your blandness is caused by a similar situation. I feel you’ve been ignoring your training while your body recovers, and your friend with the beautiful body distracts you with late night movie sessions and alcohol. You have lost focus, and that loss of focus will change your tune come Sunday. Because as the name states, the Pay Per View is a METAMORPHOSIS of this industry, of this company.”
I kick the bag as hard as I can once more, getting the attention of Carly Robins as she sees that one of nCw’s own isn’t just hiding in some hotel and sipping beers. She walks over, looking like she’s ready to give me an interview.
“Kristoff Liam Bates, I’m glad to see you here. I was wondering if I’d run into anyone outside of a meeting in some skuzzy booze-filled hotel.”
“Oh, don’t worry, if I go out and drink, I go to a real bar.”
“That’s nice to know. So, I have heard there is trouble in the Bates household, is this going to harm your performance at Meta?”
I look at Carly with an odd glare; she seems to be taken aback slightly, before regaining her composure. I scoff, there is nothing that can distract me from this match, not even her callipygous figure or supple breasts could deter this man from at least the destruction of Andrew Jacobson.
“Aren’t you supposed to introduce yourself? Get your microphone? Go by protocol and all that before you do an interview.”
She looks down, and isn’t holding anything but air. Her ditzy nature strikes again.
“Wait…I’m not holding a microphone? Damn. I thought I was missing something.”
I pull the nearest chair and set it up for her, and sit down on another, grabbing my barbed-wire briefcase. I smile and look down at it as she gets back to what she calls an interview.
“So, Bates, do you have an answer about my previous question about the performance issue?”
“Yes, Carly, I do. I don’t think my home life will interfere with any aspects of my life as long as I’m on the road. I’ve learned there is something lurking within me, Carly. Something that needs to get out. And I think you know exactly what it is.”
I make eyes at Carly, and she still seems completely oblivious to my attempts at flirting. Perhaps I am far more inexperienced at this than before. But I need CONTROL of this situation. And the only way to get that is to make her know my intentions.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Carly.”
“Thank you Kris, but, what does that have to do with Metamorphosis?”
“It could have a LOT to do, Carly. But only if you want it to.”
I wink at her, and she finally gets it. She looks almost disgusted at the proposition, but not for the reasons of my being ugly or distasteful, but because of my being a married man.
“That is not what a man like you should be insinuating, Kristoff. I mean, you have a wife and kids at home.”
“Do I? I don’t remember seeing a wedding ring on my finger.”
I quietly slip the ring off and pocket it. I know what I’m doing, and I don’t care. I’ve been with one woman and one woman only for the last seven years. I’m tired of being faithful, of being NORMAL.
“My god, you are right, there is no ring. Did you and your wife divorce?”
I fake sadness like the best actors from Hollywood could never dream of. I even get a few fake tears rolling.
“Yes, she did. It’s this schedule. She couldn’t take it anymore, me putting myself on the line.”
“That’s so sad. Should we do this interview again later?”
I lean in and whisper something into her ear and she begins to blush. She leaves, and will reconvene with me at my hotel tonight. I’m not going to spoil anything by saying what we will be doing, but let’s just say the ring is staying off.
“AJ, I know you think I’m disgusting, but now you’re probably convinced that Brutal Bastard Bates is going to be giving you quite a Bashing of your Brittle Brains on Sunday. The affairs between us will be settled in full on Sunday, with or without my winning this title from you, you’ll know who REALLY beat you. You’ll know that you are lacking the brain power you used to have because of me and my Bad Barbed-wire Briefcase. Metamorphosis is the changing of so many things, AJ. And when you come out of Metamorphosis, you too, will be changed. And I’m sure it will not be for the better.”
I hold up the briefcase in victory, before bringing it down upon the punching bag with such force it rips open the seam and stuffing falls to the floor. This is what happens to Andrew on Sunday. And in the end I will be the one with my hand raised high. I don’t care about titles, but the monster within wants out. Metamorphosis will begin the change. And tonight, the change of my home life changes as well. I’ll see you there, Andrew. Bring your hockey stick, she can’t help you, but maybe it’ll be like a teddy bear. Something to hold onto as your world is ripped from you.