Post by Ian Kline on Jul 11, 2010 3:35:00 GMT -6
We open up with Ian Kline and Candice Greer stepping out of a rental car in the Qwest Center rear entrance for nCw wrestlers and employees. Candice rubs the sleep out of her eyes while Ian’s dark sunglasses hide the tiredness in him. He carries his duffle bag and rolls Candice’s luggage behind him.
“Why did we have to come in so early? It’s barely daylight.”
“It’s Picture Perfect. Our first title defense. It’s a big day.”
“Yeah but what difference does it make if we’re here now or right before the show?”
Kline stops walking to address his girlfriend.
“I have to show I’m dedicated to the cause. People keep treating me like I’m some kind of fresh out of the water rookie. If I’m the first guy here, eventually they’ll have to recognize that this business means more to me than anything. I plan to put the ignorance to a rest.”
“That’s so stupid.”
“Whatever. You just don’t understand what it’s like to be considered a rookie.”
“Nope. Look…..Since we’re here early, can I at least meet Adam Knite? I‘ve got a bone to pick with him.”
Ian shakes his head and A security guard at the door checks his nCw badge and lets them in the building. They make their way down the halls.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the car so I can at least get some rest. It’s not like anybody is going to know you were the first one here anyway. Not unless that security guard has nothing better to talk about.”
A familiar voice is heard.
“You’re just now getting here?”
Kline and Greer spin around and see Will Washington stretching out on some thick boxes. Ian lets out a disgusted grunt.
“Oh *** damn it.”
“There. Will’s here. Can we go get some rest now?”
“You can do whatever you want. I’ve gotta get some cardio in.”
Will offers a friendly hand.
“I’ll show you the best place to nap in an arena. It’s where Joe Everyman spends a lot of his time. And every now and then you’ll see Falcon disappear back there with some young female fans. I guess it’s his autograph area or something.”
“That sounds great. I’ll see you later then honey?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Candice leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Will grabs her bag and escorts her away to find a resting place. Ian is just about to start in on his fitness routine when an nCw cameraman sneaks up.
“Can we get a few words before the big match tonight?”
“You people are here already too? Mother f*cker.”
“Well we kind of slept here overnight. Fox is kind of a cheapskate.”
“In that case I guess I owe it to you guys.”
The cameraman steps back and turns on his camera and counts down for Ian to start. On ‘one’, the faux-hawked superstar films his promo. He finds himself a comfortable place and fires away with the pre-match discussion.
“Let me teach you about comedy and irony.”
An all-knowing look fills Ian’s face while he gives a lesson on truth in regards to Rotten and Matthews.
“Comedy. It’s what you try to do every week. Comedy. It’s the fact that you have probably only wrestled 3 matches since you lost the World Tag Team Titles. Comedy. It’s that you’re Leonard Fox’ whipping boys. Comedy. It’s the Motor City Mafia.”
“Irony. It’s the fact that all these things make you hilarious, but your jokes are not funny. Irony. It’s that you’re former champions yet you’re thought of as the worst team in the company. Irony. It’s that you’ve got Leonard Fox backing you, but your career has actually went downhill since joining up with him. Irony. It’s the Motor City Mafia.”
Kline sits down on a big cargo box used to house the necessary equipment to put on a glorious pay-per-view. The camera zooms in a bit.
“I know that might have been hard for you guys to understand. The second you heard the word ‘teach’ come up I know you turned off the TV and switched back to Dragon Ball Z or Ice Road Truckers, depending on who has the remote, so I hope you’re back now. Look at you, you brave little soldiers marching into battle for their generals Steve Awesome and Leonard Fox. Fighting for the cause. You f*cking sheep.”
“Like my tag team partner Will, you fight for your own diluted cause. You never bring it up, because quite frankly I doubt you even know what it is. You represent everything that is wrong with the world. You’re these ignorant corporate stooges who fight to preserve the greed and power of one entity. Every single thing you do is to keep Fox and Awesome near the top. What part of that benefits you? Do you get a little extra in your paycheck to take the beatings for Steve? Or do you just generally love getting beaten up? I know you’re pretty stupid, but there’s no way you’re that stupid. What’s that? You are that stupid? Why am I not surprised?”
A fly lands on Kline’s arm and he sits motionless. He quickly slaps his hand down, catching the fly in his palm.
“So you go into yet another fight, this time it could possibly benefit you. Those title belts could really help boost you two back up to a respectable level. The Motor City Mafia would burrow their way out of nCw’s basement and actually be featured prominently on television again. It’d be a glorious day for you two if you managed to win on Sunday. But how long would that last? Who is to say Leonard Fox wouldn’t just take those belts away from you and give them to another one of his more favored lackeys? Doc and JFK might need to be appeased. Steve Awesome might decide that he and Kelly should be Tag Team Champs. That would be the ground you’d be standing on. Where at any second your titles could be snatched from you and given to someone much less deserving. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Aren’t we a much less deserving team that could take your titles?’ Well yes and no. You don’t deserve these belts, but you won’t get them.”
He releases the captured fly and watches it as it flies away.
“It’s like the old saying ’the blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while.’ Or ‘every dog has his day.’ You blind nut lovers had your day when you beat us the week after Reborn. You pulled off the dupe and beat the champions it what would be considered a mild upset. I mean…you guys do have all the tag team experience and it was our second match as a team, but people still considered it an upset. And just what does that say about us? That in our second match people thought we were better than you tools. I honestly feel pretty bad for you. Nobody has faith in you. Not your boss, not the fans, and worst of all not even yourselves. You know you’re ****ty and you’re not afraid to admit it, and that’s an admirable thing. You realize you’re terrible, yet you still challenged us for the belts. Again admirable. You took the only meaningful, and possibly only, match you’ve had in months and transferred it into a title shot. That takes balls. To stand out there in broad daylight and say ‘We suck but we want a title shot’ earns you some sort of credit in some f*cked up world I don’t want to be a part of.”
“That’s where you find yourself today. As the number one contender’s for the top gold in all of tag team wrestling. Across the ring from two of the finest wrestlers you’ll ever see in your life. When you try and climb that ladder, ascending to the heavens, you’ll look up. You’ll stare up at the sky at expect to see God. You’ll ask him for help…you’ll pray to him for help. ‘Please God make them stop beating us. I beg you.‘ That’s when you’ll realize that you God won’t save you. In his place you’ll see my face, the face of your demise. You stare death right in the face and try to laugh at it? Death will shove it’s fist right down your pathetic throat. I play the part of the Grim Reaper and you’re the lower-card, rarely used wrestlers who desperately want to be noticed. This weekend the Reaper doesn’t kill you, he kills your career. And without wrestling…you’re as good as dead anyway.”
He stands up and looks off into the distance. He sees his tag team partner approaching, and he delivers a final verbal blow.
“At Picture Perfect, the comedy becomes a tragedy. The Decline and Death of Motor City Mafia.”
The cameraman feels like this one may be over. He nods to Kline and shuts down his camera before he walks off to do some editing. Washington joins Kline on his left and extends a fist bump, which Ian accepts.
“Good stuff man. Scathing, hurtful things. Matthews is going to be a cutter by the end of the week.”
Will chuckles and Ian doesn’t really react.
“It’s going to be hell out there tonight. We’re going to have to be tough as nails.”
“Yeah….”
“What’s with the depressed tone there? Not too excited about getting hit with a ladder over and over?”
“I just don’t know if it’s all worth it.”
“Worth what?”
“We put our bodies on the line for tag team gold, meanwhile it seems like everyone in the Front Office is just handed title opportunities.”
“Well yeah. Because they’re Leonard’s he-b*tches.”
“Do you ever think how much easier it’d be just to sell out? To give up your soul for the promise of gold? All it takes is one call and I could have the world on a silver platter.”
“You’d seriously consider losing all your self-respect just to have life a little easier?”
“I didn’t say I would. I said I’d have to think about it. Like maybe Kelly was onto something when she told me to join the Front Office.”
“You’re soldier. You’re not some old man’s b*tch.”
“You don’t realize how sh*tty it is to always be the soldier. I have to fight for everything I get.”
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“But it’s not the way it HAS to be. That’s the difference.”
“Listen. Do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just don’t jeopardize these titles. And for the record, for even considering this you’re less of a man than I thought you were.”
Kline marches away, leaving Washington behind. He whips out his cell phone and stares down at it.
“All it takes is one all…or something worth fighting for.”
We fade out as Will ponders his dilemma.
“Why did we have to come in so early? It’s barely daylight.”
“It’s Picture Perfect. Our first title defense. It’s a big day.”
“Yeah but what difference does it make if we’re here now or right before the show?”
Kline stops walking to address his girlfriend.
“I have to show I’m dedicated to the cause. People keep treating me like I’m some kind of fresh out of the water rookie. If I’m the first guy here, eventually they’ll have to recognize that this business means more to me than anything. I plan to put the ignorance to a rest.”
“That’s so stupid.”
“Whatever. You just don’t understand what it’s like to be considered a rookie.”
“Nope. Look…..Since we’re here early, can I at least meet Adam Knite? I‘ve got a bone to pick with him.”
Ian shakes his head and A security guard at the door checks his nCw badge and lets them in the building. They make their way down the halls.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the car so I can at least get some rest. It’s not like anybody is going to know you were the first one here anyway. Not unless that security guard has nothing better to talk about.”
A familiar voice is heard.
“You’re just now getting here?”
Kline and Greer spin around and see Will Washington stretching out on some thick boxes. Ian lets out a disgusted grunt.
“Oh *** damn it.”
“There. Will’s here. Can we go get some rest now?”
“You can do whatever you want. I’ve gotta get some cardio in.”
Will offers a friendly hand.
“I’ll show you the best place to nap in an arena. It’s where Joe Everyman spends a lot of his time. And every now and then you’ll see Falcon disappear back there with some young female fans. I guess it’s his autograph area or something.”
“That sounds great. I’ll see you later then honey?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Candice leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Will grabs her bag and escorts her away to find a resting place. Ian is just about to start in on his fitness routine when an nCw cameraman sneaks up.
“Can we get a few words before the big match tonight?”
“You people are here already too? Mother f*cker.”
“Well we kind of slept here overnight. Fox is kind of a cheapskate.”
“In that case I guess I owe it to you guys.”
The cameraman steps back and turns on his camera and counts down for Ian to start. On ‘one’, the faux-hawked superstar films his promo. He finds himself a comfortable place and fires away with the pre-match discussion.
“Let me teach you about comedy and irony.”
An all-knowing look fills Ian’s face while he gives a lesson on truth in regards to Rotten and Matthews.
“Comedy. It’s what you try to do every week. Comedy. It’s the fact that you have probably only wrestled 3 matches since you lost the World Tag Team Titles. Comedy. It’s that you’re Leonard Fox’ whipping boys. Comedy. It’s the Motor City Mafia.”
“Irony. It’s the fact that all these things make you hilarious, but your jokes are not funny. Irony. It’s that you’re former champions yet you’re thought of as the worst team in the company. Irony. It’s that you’ve got Leonard Fox backing you, but your career has actually went downhill since joining up with him. Irony. It’s the Motor City Mafia.”
Kline sits down on a big cargo box used to house the necessary equipment to put on a glorious pay-per-view. The camera zooms in a bit.
“I know that might have been hard for you guys to understand. The second you heard the word ‘teach’ come up I know you turned off the TV and switched back to Dragon Ball Z or Ice Road Truckers, depending on who has the remote, so I hope you’re back now. Look at you, you brave little soldiers marching into battle for their generals Steve Awesome and Leonard Fox. Fighting for the cause. You f*cking sheep.”
“Like my tag team partner Will, you fight for your own diluted cause. You never bring it up, because quite frankly I doubt you even know what it is. You represent everything that is wrong with the world. You’re these ignorant corporate stooges who fight to preserve the greed and power of one entity. Every single thing you do is to keep Fox and Awesome near the top. What part of that benefits you? Do you get a little extra in your paycheck to take the beatings for Steve? Or do you just generally love getting beaten up? I know you’re pretty stupid, but there’s no way you’re that stupid. What’s that? You are that stupid? Why am I not surprised?”
A fly lands on Kline’s arm and he sits motionless. He quickly slaps his hand down, catching the fly in his palm.
“So you go into yet another fight, this time it could possibly benefit you. Those title belts could really help boost you two back up to a respectable level. The Motor City Mafia would burrow their way out of nCw’s basement and actually be featured prominently on television again. It’d be a glorious day for you two if you managed to win on Sunday. But how long would that last? Who is to say Leonard Fox wouldn’t just take those belts away from you and give them to another one of his more favored lackeys? Doc and JFK might need to be appeased. Steve Awesome might decide that he and Kelly should be Tag Team Champs. That would be the ground you’d be standing on. Where at any second your titles could be snatched from you and given to someone much less deserving. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Aren’t we a much less deserving team that could take your titles?’ Well yes and no. You don’t deserve these belts, but you won’t get them.”
He releases the captured fly and watches it as it flies away.
“It’s like the old saying ’the blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while.’ Or ‘every dog has his day.’ You blind nut lovers had your day when you beat us the week after Reborn. You pulled off the dupe and beat the champions it what would be considered a mild upset. I mean…you guys do have all the tag team experience and it was our second match as a team, but people still considered it an upset. And just what does that say about us? That in our second match people thought we were better than you tools. I honestly feel pretty bad for you. Nobody has faith in you. Not your boss, not the fans, and worst of all not even yourselves. You know you’re ****ty and you’re not afraid to admit it, and that’s an admirable thing. You realize you’re terrible, yet you still challenged us for the belts. Again admirable. You took the only meaningful, and possibly only, match you’ve had in months and transferred it into a title shot. That takes balls. To stand out there in broad daylight and say ‘We suck but we want a title shot’ earns you some sort of credit in some f*cked up world I don’t want to be a part of.”
“That’s where you find yourself today. As the number one contender’s for the top gold in all of tag team wrestling. Across the ring from two of the finest wrestlers you’ll ever see in your life. When you try and climb that ladder, ascending to the heavens, you’ll look up. You’ll stare up at the sky at expect to see God. You’ll ask him for help…you’ll pray to him for help. ‘Please God make them stop beating us. I beg you.‘ That’s when you’ll realize that you God won’t save you. In his place you’ll see my face, the face of your demise. You stare death right in the face and try to laugh at it? Death will shove it’s fist right down your pathetic throat. I play the part of the Grim Reaper and you’re the lower-card, rarely used wrestlers who desperately want to be noticed. This weekend the Reaper doesn’t kill you, he kills your career. And without wrestling…you’re as good as dead anyway.”
He stands up and looks off into the distance. He sees his tag team partner approaching, and he delivers a final verbal blow.
“At Picture Perfect, the comedy becomes a tragedy. The Decline and Death of Motor City Mafia.”
The cameraman feels like this one may be over. He nods to Kline and shuts down his camera before he walks off to do some editing. Washington joins Kline on his left and extends a fist bump, which Ian accepts.
“Good stuff man. Scathing, hurtful things. Matthews is going to be a cutter by the end of the week.”
Will chuckles and Ian doesn’t really react.
“It’s going to be hell out there tonight. We’re going to have to be tough as nails.”
“Yeah….”
“What’s with the depressed tone there? Not too excited about getting hit with a ladder over and over?”
“I just don’t know if it’s all worth it.”
“Worth what?”
“We put our bodies on the line for tag team gold, meanwhile it seems like everyone in the Front Office is just handed title opportunities.”
“Well yeah. Because they’re Leonard’s he-b*tches.”
“Do you ever think how much easier it’d be just to sell out? To give up your soul for the promise of gold? All it takes is one call and I could have the world on a silver platter.”
“You’d seriously consider losing all your self-respect just to have life a little easier?”
“I didn’t say I would. I said I’d have to think about it. Like maybe Kelly was onto something when she told me to join the Front Office.”
“You’re soldier. You’re not some old man’s b*tch.”
“You don’t realize how sh*tty it is to always be the soldier. I have to fight for everything I get.”
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“But it’s not the way it HAS to be. That’s the difference.”
“Listen. Do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just don’t jeopardize these titles. And for the record, for even considering this you’re less of a man than I thought you were.”
Kline marches away, leaving Washington behind. He whips out his cell phone and stares down at it.
“All it takes is one all…or something worth fighting for.”
We fade out as Will ponders his dilemma.