Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jul 7, 2010 22:29:34 GMT -6
We open our scene on Andrew Jacobsen standing before a backdrop of National Champions past, wearing, of all things, a Jack Hammond “How Hard Can It Be?” shirt under a gray windbreaker. Ricky Johnson, Milo Holland, Falcon, Homeless Harold, and yes, even men like Spike Kane and Steve Awesome. Curiously, Joe Everyman is absent, though there are a few Joe-shaped silhouettes where he might have been...or was supposed to be. Either way, Andrew begins talking, subtly gesturing with his hands as he does so to emphasize his points.
“Every once in a while, a champion comes along that you know is going to be truly something to behold. You see him wrestle, and you think to yourself “this guy is really something.” I personally find myself blessed any time I can get in the ring with someone like that...you know, a guy like a Lance Ryan or Adam Knite. But then there's the guys that make you stop, shake your head and think “how did HE get a title?” You know, guys like Sexy Jason, Tommy Victor, Dr. Pepper...and Charlie Velez. Charlie Velez, the businessman. The former champion, the current champion. Proud member of the Front Office/Young Guns supergroup, tentatively called the Front Guns. The coward.”
Andrew looks up, a cheeky grin on his face. He looks back to the wall of champions, and the camera zooms in on a tiny picture of Charlie Velez posing with the National Title.
“Yes, I just called the man a coward. What other sort of man ambushes his tag team partner just to try to get a quick and easy advantage over his future opponent? Charlie, if I'm so easy to beat, why didn't you just wrestle the damn match and take me on like a man? I know why: because you're afraid. You know that I'm going to beat you in a fair fight, so you're trying to take any shortcut you can. You demolished Cari Cross's gravestone because you knew it would give you a psychological edge over Cross. You don't have that out with me. I don't have a dead wife, or a wife you can pull an Alex Jones-slash-Rob Diamond with. I'm just me. So you threw the psychological aspect out the window and decided to just get the Motor City Morons to wallop on me.”
He chuckles, sighing as he reminisces over the pier-six brawl he and the Tag Team Champions had this past Sunday.
“Ahh, those two dumbasses. They had a week to rest while me and Velez got our shots in on the Tag Champs. But no, they go along with this half-cocked, hare-brained scheme that ends up backfiring. I bet you and Charlie are feeling pretty smart now, aren't you? You think you can break us that easily, Front Office? You're going to learn soon enough that you can't always get what you want.”
Andrew clears his throat, straightening his jacket. The camera backs out a bit, and Andrew speaks very clearly at the camera, trying to make sure every word he says is heard.
“Charlie, on to dealing with the facts. The facts are this: I have been in two title matches here in nCw where I was the challenger. Those were the only two times I ever got to challenge for a title. I won both matches. I have run with World Champions. I have BEATEN World Champions. I love how people still say, after six months, that I still need to establish myself here. There's a reason Kelly Knite, even though I'm basically flipping off her father and you goons week after week, is still calling me the future of nCw. You've been wrestling for longer than I have, and you have what exactly to show for it? One run with the National Title and a couple of tag titles in a promotion that's dead and buried.”
Andrew flashes a grin again, but this one is almost the sort that the douchebag frat boy would use before taking off with your girlfriend and proceeding to use her like she was Jenna Jameson. He pulls over a TV and DVD player on a cart, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on.
“Charlie, I won my first title by beating Rob Diamond. Let's take a look back to remember how that went, shall we?”
He hits Play...
Andrew pauses the TV, smirking as the visual of him with the belt freezes on the screen.
“Now let's take a look at what happened when you locked up with Rob a few weeks ago...”
He hits a few buttons...
Andrew grins, pausing the TV once more on the visual of Charlie tapping out. He looks back to the camera once more, shaking his head in mock concern.
“That's not a good sign, Charlie. You know, I did rip through Venom. Doc got cocky, and I took him out. Know why I got so pissed? Because you sanctimonious JACKASSES think that I'm not a threat. I have upset people time and time again. I lasted longer than almost anyone in the Riot Match. I beat Rob Diamond. I qualified for the Coliseum and nearly won the thing. You? You talk about the burden of success. I know that burden. I knew it every week as champion. And you know what? If you think I've choked, then you're a moron. You think that, then you have NO IDEA what my career has been like...and how much better it's going to get to be me after Sunday.”
Andrew shoves the TV out of shot, sighing one more time as his voice becomes laced with...is that regret? No, it's something like that...but not quite.
“Charlie...you've got a nice wife and cute kids. You're not even thirty and you're already richer than almost anyone in the country. Your products are wildly popular. Oh, for the record? Velez Whiskey smells like aftershave and taste like gasoline. But you can't always win. I know that far too well...but I'm going to win. Not because I've got to “prove” that I can hang with the big dogs. But because I just want to shut you up for a loooong time. So bring your best, you corporate stooge. I'll bring mine. And may the best man win.”
Fade out...on AJ getting a phone call. He picks up, but all we get to hear is “Hello?” before we fade to black.
“Every once in a while, a champion comes along that you know is going to be truly something to behold. You see him wrestle, and you think to yourself “this guy is really something.” I personally find myself blessed any time I can get in the ring with someone like that...you know, a guy like a Lance Ryan or Adam Knite. But then there's the guys that make you stop, shake your head and think “how did HE get a title?” You know, guys like Sexy Jason, Tommy Victor, Dr. Pepper...and Charlie Velez. Charlie Velez, the businessman. The former champion, the current champion. Proud member of the Front Office/Young Guns supergroup, tentatively called the Front Guns. The coward.”
Andrew looks up, a cheeky grin on his face. He looks back to the wall of champions, and the camera zooms in on a tiny picture of Charlie Velez posing with the National Title.
“Yes, I just called the man a coward. What other sort of man ambushes his tag team partner just to try to get a quick and easy advantage over his future opponent? Charlie, if I'm so easy to beat, why didn't you just wrestle the damn match and take me on like a man? I know why: because you're afraid. You know that I'm going to beat you in a fair fight, so you're trying to take any shortcut you can. You demolished Cari Cross's gravestone because you knew it would give you a psychological edge over Cross. You don't have that out with me. I don't have a dead wife, or a wife you can pull an Alex Jones-slash-Rob Diamond with. I'm just me. So you threw the psychological aspect out the window and decided to just get the Motor City Morons to wallop on me.”
He chuckles, sighing as he reminisces over the pier-six brawl he and the Tag Team Champions had this past Sunday.
“Ahh, those two dumbasses. They had a week to rest while me and Velez got our shots in on the Tag Champs. But no, they go along with this half-cocked, hare-brained scheme that ends up backfiring. I bet you and Charlie are feeling pretty smart now, aren't you? You think you can break us that easily, Front Office? You're going to learn soon enough that you can't always get what you want.”
Andrew clears his throat, straightening his jacket. The camera backs out a bit, and Andrew speaks very clearly at the camera, trying to make sure every word he says is heard.
“Charlie, on to dealing with the facts. The facts are this: I have been in two title matches here in nCw where I was the challenger. Those were the only two times I ever got to challenge for a title. I won both matches. I have run with World Champions. I have BEATEN World Champions. I love how people still say, after six months, that I still need to establish myself here. There's a reason Kelly Knite, even though I'm basically flipping off her father and you goons week after week, is still calling me the future of nCw. You've been wrestling for longer than I have, and you have what exactly to show for it? One run with the National Title and a couple of tag titles in a promotion that's dead and buried.”
Andrew flashes a grin again, but this one is almost the sort that the douchebag frat boy would use before taking off with your girlfriend and proceeding to use her like she was Jenna Jameson. He pulls over a TV and DVD player on a cart, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on.
“Charlie, I won my first title by beating Rob Diamond. Let's take a look back to remember how that went, shall we?”
He hits Play...
{Rob sets the belt on one of the ladder rungs and nails Jacobsen with a right hand. Andrew responds with one of his one. Back and forth they go, until Jacobsen counters a swing and nails Rob with a headbutt, staggering him. Jacobsen grabs Diamond and sets him up for a suplex.}
Eric Hardy: Oh god no.. Don't do it!
Kelly Knite: Say goodnight Gracey.
{Jacobsen suplexes Diamond off the ladder. Jacobsen lands inside the ring, his head narrowly missing the top rope. Rob is not so lucky, landing on the floor outside the ring.}
Eric Hardy: Someone get the med staff out here.. Rob may in fact be dead.. or paralyzed.. or worse.
Kelly Knite: Worse?
Eric Hardy: Yea, bad turn of phrase.. I'm sorry.
{The med team comes out to check on Diamond as Jacobsen slowly gets to his feet. Jacobsen sets up the ladder as Rob shakes off the med team, telling them he's fine. Jacobsen grabs the title and climbs the ladder. Rob manages to get to the apron and pull himself up onto wobbly feet. Just in time to see Andrew Jacobsen clip the belt onto the hooks hanging from the ceiling.}
Amber: Here is your winner, and NEW X DIVISION CHAMPION.. ANDREW JACOBSEN!
Eric Hardy: Oh god no.. Don't do it!
Kelly Knite: Say goodnight Gracey.
{Jacobsen suplexes Diamond off the ladder. Jacobsen lands inside the ring, his head narrowly missing the top rope. Rob is not so lucky, landing on the floor outside the ring.}
Eric Hardy: Someone get the med staff out here.. Rob may in fact be dead.. or paralyzed.. or worse.
Kelly Knite: Worse?
Eric Hardy: Yea, bad turn of phrase.. I'm sorry.
{The med team comes out to check on Diamond as Jacobsen slowly gets to his feet. Jacobsen sets up the ladder as Rob shakes off the med team, telling them he's fine. Jacobsen grabs the title and climbs the ladder. Rob manages to get to the apron and pull himself up onto wobbly feet. Just in time to see Andrew Jacobsen clip the belt onto the hooks hanging from the ceiling.}
Amber: Here is your winner, and NEW X DIVISION CHAMPION.. ANDREW JACOBSEN!
Andrew pauses the TV, smirking as the visual of him with the belt freezes on the screen.
“Now let's take a look at what happened when you locked up with Rob a few weeks ago...”
He hits a few buttons...
{Velez reaches the top, in time for Diamond to get a second wind and suddenly pop up there with him. He hooks both arms around Velez, ready to bring him down off the top with a belly to belly Suplex, nearly catapaulting both men more than halfway across the ring. Diamond drapes a hand over Velez for the cover. 1...2... Kickout at 2!}
Eric Hardy: Holy Hell! After such a move, Velez still had the strength to kick out.
Willy Carter: Tough little shnick, isn't he?
{Rob locks both arms around Velez's neck, and flips back over into a bridge, locking in the Sweet Dreams. Dead center in the middle of the ring, Velez has no where to go.}
Eric Hardy: He's got that hold locked in... there's no where to go..
Willy Carter: No way to escape...
{Charlie fights with all his strength, but there is no escape. One minute becomes two, two becomes three... and finally.. he taps the mat.}
Eric Hardy: Holy Hell! After such a move, Velez still had the strength to kick out.
Willy Carter: Tough little shnick, isn't he?
{Rob locks both arms around Velez's neck, and flips back over into a bridge, locking in the Sweet Dreams. Dead center in the middle of the ring, Velez has no where to go.}
Eric Hardy: He's got that hold locked in... there's no where to go..
Willy Carter: No way to escape...
{Charlie fights with all his strength, but there is no escape. One minute becomes two, two becomes three... and finally.. he taps the mat.}
Andrew grins, pausing the TV once more on the visual of Charlie tapping out. He looks back to the camera once more, shaking his head in mock concern.
“That's not a good sign, Charlie. You know, I did rip through Venom. Doc got cocky, and I took him out. Know why I got so pissed? Because you sanctimonious JACKASSES think that I'm not a threat. I have upset people time and time again. I lasted longer than almost anyone in the Riot Match. I beat Rob Diamond. I qualified for the Coliseum and nearly won the thing. You? You talk about the burden of success. I know that burden. I knew it every week as champion. And you know what? If you think I've choked, then you're a moron. You think that, then you have NO IDEA what my career has been like...and how much better it's going to get to be me after Sunday.”
Andrew shoves the TV out of shot, sighing one more time as his voice becomes laced with...is that regret? No, it's something like that...but not quite.
“Charlie...you've got a nice wife and cute kids. You're not even thirty and you're already richer than almost anyone in the country. Your products are wildly popular. Oh, for the record? Velez Whiskey smells like aftershave and taste like gasoline. But you can't always win. I know that far too well...but I'm going to win. Not because I've got to “prove” that I can hang with the big dogs. But because I just want to shut you up for a loooong time. So bring your best, you corporate stooge. I'll bring mine. And may the best man win.”
Fade out...on AJ getting a phone call. He picks up, but all we get to hear is “Hello?” before we fade to black.