Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jul 10, 2010 1:53:09 GMT -6
Open up on Andrew sitting in a chair in his hotel room, looking down with his hands folded. He sighs, a familiar backdrop unfurling behind him...yes, it looks like North Star Productions is back in business. Andrew looks up to the camera, forcing a smile. His eyes betray the fact that he's rattled after Charlie Velez's last verbal barrage, but he tries to move on anyway.
“Hey there, everyone. I guess I kind of screwed up with my facts this week. Eh, we all make mistakes. It's only human. I, for example, stepped into the ring against Rob Diamond without a cup. He never went downstairs, but I got lucky. Speaking of getting lucky, looks like Velez hit the trifecta of suicidal thoughts: out into traffic, jump off a high spot and blowing your brains out. Leonard, does our health package cover counseling? For the sake of your soon to be ex-National Champion, it better. I still have one question that you haven't answered though, Velez...”
Andrew's expression changes from forced humor to an icy glare. He shifts his position subtly, going from a relaxed stance to one that suggests he's about ready to burst out of the chair and start laying the smack down on someone.
“Where do you get off lecturing me? You want to talk about how you don't have time to check every backwater fed I've ever been in? I've got a news flash for you, rich boy: THIS is the only fed I've ever been in. EVER. My debut match as a wrestler? Me and Blackheart on Trauma. There's your answer. No, I haven't been World Champion. On the other hand, you've also had a lot longer than me to try and achieve that title. But...you've reminded me that dwelling on the past is anything but constructive. All it leads to are tears and butthurt. So instead, let's look to the future instead, shall we?”
Andrew cracks another grin, this one looking much less forced than the first one. It seems the change of backdrop might have loosened up the former X-Division Champion.
“You ramble on about how I'm just some kid who doesn't know anything about what he's doing. Could “some kid” beat a man that's widely considered to be one of the greatest of all time? Could “some kid” go toe-to-toe with men like Falcon and Angel and hold his own? I'm much better than you think I am, Charlie. I'm much better than you're willing to give me credit for. And why should you give me credit? After all, it's not like I've beaten champions time and again while I've been here. It's not like I didn't have the match of the night at the biggest pay-per-view of the year...wait, that's right. I DID.”
Andrew's grin grows even wider as he recalls the energy of that night. The fans screaming for both of them, the shots traded back and forth...and the bittersweet feeling as his second X-Division Title reign came to a close.
“That's an accomplishment that I don't bring up much. You had the Casket Match between Nelly and Rob. You had the big grudge match between Adam and Steve. The Triple Threat main event for the World Title. And in the end, WHAT did the fans say was the best match of the night? Me and Alex Jones, dueling over the X-Division Title. Do you know how happy I was to hear that? Do you know how vindicated I felt? To you, I might just be an annoying little kid who's in over his head. But to everyone else...I'm a rising star. I'm an example of what the new breed is going to be. And you don't like that.”
Andrew shifts in his seat, reaching over and grabbing something from off-camera. It's revealed that he has a X-Division Title belt in his hand, presumably the copy he was given when he won the belt the first time. Andrew looks at it, past glories circulating in his head.
“I know I keep talking about how the past is the past and proving myself to be a hypocrite by dredging your past up...but I guess in the end, we can't really appreciate where we are without looking back at where we were. That Sunday in Redmond? I was scared out of my wits. I knew that I was going up against possibly THE most dominant champion in nCw history. And who the hell was I? Just some kid looking to make a name for himself. Rob underestimated me, and he did so fatally. That match...God, that match was grueling. I can't believe I was in as good shape for the Riot as I was. I kind of feel like that now. I feel like I'm almost getting in over my head...but I know so much more about being a wrestler now than I did before.”
He slings the X-Division belt over his shoulder, grinning as the familiar weight settles onto him. Andrew pats the central plate of the belt, drumming his fingers on it.
“That feels so reassuring...and just think, Charlie. After Sunday, I'll have two belts to keep in the case at home: the X-Division and the National. I welcome the responsibility of being champion. Hell, I enjoy it. I like having the extra pressure of having to succeed. That's a big difference between you and me, Charlie. You look for the easy way out when being a target becomes too much. I want the best to come and take me on. That's the only way I'll ever get better. Charlie, you're one of the best. I can't deny that any longer. So yeah, I'm going to brag when I win. I'll brag because I beat the National Champion and won the title. And maybe, just maybe, you asshats in the Front Office will finally realize that this Revolution...it can't be stopped. Three World Champions are already behind it, and I'm no slouch either. You can't stop us.”
Andrew stands up, the North Star Productions banner becoming an American flag. Inspirational music plays as he speaks in an over-the-top impression of...apparently the Superman announcer from the 50s.
“Because we fight for what's right! We're fighting for the good people of nCw. Not just our fans in the USA, but around the world! So they can be safe from corporate tyranny! Free from having to deal with Steve Awesome on their television screens! And liberated from the idea of having someone like you hold one of the most treasured prizes in this company! So, as the great Roddy Piper once said, “I have come to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And I'm all out of bubblegum.” Bring your best, Charlie. I'll bring mine. And may the best! Man! Win! God Bless America!”
The music cuts and the backdrop reverts to normal. Andrew sits down, pulling over his laptop. He pulls up an e-mail client and begins typing. The camera tracks him the entire time, and this is what we end up with...
He exhales somewhat nervously, clicking “Send” and shooting off the message to the Women's Champion. Andrew slumps back in his seat, chuckling.
“I talk tough about my match, but I get all nervous sending an e-mail to Zelda...ain't that rich?”
Andrew stands up, setting the computer on a table, and walks off, title belt resting on the arm of the chair. Fade to black on the side plate, with the X-Division motto engraved on it in all capital letters: NO LIMITS.
...NO LIMITS...
“Hey there, everyone. I guess I kind of screwed up with my facts this week. Eh, we all make mistakes. It's only human. I, for example, stepped into the ring against Rob Diamond without a cup. He never went downstairs, but I got lucky. Speaking of getting lucky, looks like Velez hit the trifecta of suicidal thoughts: out into traffic, jump off a high spot and blowing your brains out. Leonard, does our health package cover counseling? For the sake of your soon to be ex-National Champion, it better. I still have one question that you haven't answered though, Velez...”
Andrew's expression changes from forced humor to an icy glare. He shifts his position subtly, going from a relaxed stance to one that suggests he's about ready to burst out of the chair and start laying the smack down on someone.
“Where do you get off lecturing me? You want to talk about how you don't have time to check every backwater fed I've ever been in? I've got a news flash for you, rich boy: THIS is the only fed I've ever been in. EVER. My debut match as a wrestler? Me and Blackheart on Trauma. There's your answer. No, I haven't been World Champion. On the other hand, you've also had a lot longer than me to try and achieve that title. But...you've reminded me that dwelling on the past is anything but constructive. All it leads to are tears and butthurt. So instead, let's look to the future instead, shall we?”
Andrew cracks another grin, this one looking much less forced than the first one. It seems the change of backdrop might have loosened up the former X-Division Champion.
“You ramble on about how I'm just some kid who doesn't know anything about what he's doing. Could “some kid” beat a man that's widely considered to be one of the greatest of all time? Could “some kid” go toe-to-toe with men like Falcon and Angel and hold his own? I'm much better than you think I am, Charlie. I'm much better than you're willing to give me credit for. And why should you give me credit? After all, it's not like I've beaten champions time and again while I've been here. It's not like I didn't have the match of the night at the biggest pay-per-view of the year...wait, that's right. I DID.”
Andrew's grin grows even wider as he recalls the energy of that night. The fans screaming for both of them, the shots traded back and forth...and the bittersweet feeling as his second X-Division Title reign came to a close.
“That's an accomplishment that I don't bring up much. You had the Casket Match between Nelly and Rob. You had the big grudge match between Adam and Steve. The Triple Threat main event for the World Title. And in the end, WHAT did the fans say was the best match of the night? Me and Alex Jones, dueling over the X-Division Title. Do you know how happy I was to hear that? Do you know how vindicated I felt? To you, I might just be an annoying little kid who's in over his head. But to everyone else...I'm a rising star. I'm an example of what the new breed is going to be. And you don't like that.”
Andrew shifts in his seat, reaching over and grabbing something from off-camera. It's revealed that he has a X-Division Title belt in his hand, presumably the copy he was given when he won the belt the first time. Andrew looks at it, past glories circulating in his head.
“I know I keep talking about how the past is the past and proving myself to be a hypocrite by dredging your past up...but I guess in the end, we can't really appreciate where we are without looking back at where we were. That Sunday in Redmond? I was scared out of my wits. I knew that I was going up against possibly THE most dominant champion in nCw history. And who the hell was I? Just some kid looking to make a name for himself. Rob underestimated me, and he did so fatally. That match...God, that match was grueling. I can't believe I was in as good shape for the Riot as I was. I kind of feel like that now. I feel like I'm almost getting in over my head...but I know so much more about being a wrestler now than I did before.”
He slings the X-Division belt over his shoulder, grinning as the familiar weight settles onto him. Andrew pats the central plate of the belt, drumming his fingers on it.
“That feels so reassuring...and just think, Charlie. After Sunday, I'll have two belts to keep in the case at home: the X-Division and the National. I welcome the responsibility of being champion. Hell, I enjoy it. I like having the extra pressure of having to succeed. That's a big difference between you and me, Charlie. You look for the easy way out when being a target becomes too much. I want the best to come and take me on. That's the only way I'll ever get better. Charlie, you're one of the best. I can't deny that any longer. So yeah, I'm going to brag when I win. I'll brag because I beat the National Champion and won the title. And maybe, just maybe, you asshats in the Front Office will finally realize that this Revolution...it can't be stopped. Three World Champions are already behind it, and I'm no slouch either. You can't stop us.”
Andrew stands up, the North Star Productions banner becoming an American flag. Inspirational music plays as he speaks in an over-the-top impression of...apparently the Superman announcer from the 50s.
“Because we fight for what's right! We're fighting for the good people of nCw. Not just our fans in the USA, but around the world! So they can be safe from corporate tyranny! Free from having to deal with Steve Awesome on their television screens! And liberated from the idea of having someone like you hold one of the most treasured prizes in this company! So, as the great Roddy Piper once said, “I have come to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And I'm all out of bubblegum.” Bring your best, Charlie. I'll bring mine. And may the best! Man! Win! God Bless America!”
The music cuts and the backdrop reverts to normal. Andrew sits down, pulling over his laptop. He pulls up an e-mail client and begins typing. The camera tracks him the entire time, and this is what we end up with...
Zelda,
I was wondering—y'know, if you ever had some free time, if you'd maybe want to go see a movie or something? Just as friends, of course. I know you and Falcon are going pretty steady. Congratulations, by the way. He's a good guy, and I'm happy for both of you. Don't listen to people like Kelly. You're both adults, and if you're in love, you're in love. What was I talking about? Oh. Movie. Right. Hey, maybe we can try and find an empty showing of Prince of Persia and see just how badly they butchered it? I kind of wanted to watch, since I loved The Sands of Time. Call it a morbid fascination. Or we could just hang out or something. If you've got any ideas, I'd be open to hearing what you've got to say. Also, is Final Fantasy XI any good? I wanted to try it, but sort of got cold feet.
Thanks for listening,
Andrew Jacobsen
I was wondering—y'know, if you ever had some free time, if you'd maybe want to go see a movie or something? Just as friends, of course. I know you and Falcon are going pretty steady. Congratulations, by the way. He's a good guy, and I'm happy for both of you. Don't listen to people like Kelly. You're both adults, and if you're in love, you're in love. What was I talking about? Oh. Movie. Right. Hey, maybe we can try and find an empty showing of Prince of Persia and see just how badly they butchered it? I kind of wanted to watch, since I loved The Sands of Time. Call it a morbid fascination. Or we could just hang out or something. If you've got any ideas, I'd be open to hearing what you've got to say. Also, is Final Fantasy XI any good? I wanted to try it, but sort of got cold feet.
Thanks for listening,
Andrew Jacobsen
He exhales somewhat nervously, clicking “Send” and shooting off the message to the Women's Champion. Andrew slumps back in his seat, chuckling.
“I talk tough about my match, but I get all nervous sending an e-mail to Zelda...ain't that rich?”
Andrew stands up, setting the computer on a table, and walks off, title belt resting on the arm of the chair. Fade to black on the side plate, with the X-Division motto engraved on it in all capital letters: NO LIMITS.
...NO LIMITS...