Post by Ander Carvetti on Oct 22, 2010 20:21:25 GMT -6
“We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.” - Charles R. Swindoll
“He who refuses to embrace a unique opportunity loses the prize as surely as if he had failed.” - William James
“When written in Chinese, the word "crisis" is composed of two characters-one represents danger, and the other represents opportunity.” - JFK
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For the past two days, I've had one question to ask myself:
Do we deserve this?
Myself and Johnny, The Rat Pack, have received our crack at the nCw Tag Team Titles much sooner than we could have possibly expected. After knocking off another makeshift team composed of two guys who aren't quite seeing eye to eye, someone in the top brass felt it was time to give us our chance to shine. A chance to make good on our goal to collect Tag Gold.
Sounds easy enough.
Can't be that hard.
We only have to make it through a two-time nCw X-Division champion and perhaps the single most decorated champion in this entire company. We've gone through the bunny path of tag challenges, and now, they've decided to completely ignore putting us on a proverbial Death Row.
They're sending us straight to the chair.
No jury to decide whether or not we should be here, no judge to carry out a normal sentence deserving of the situation. We're going right to the executioner's block, and we get to look the hooded figure of death straight in the eyes and find out if we're going to be shocked and awed, or maybe we'll get lucky, and the Governor will call with a last minute pardon. Somehow saying a mistake was made and we belong elsewhere.
Of course, we're not that lucky and this isn't a mistake.
We want those tag titles.
We want to knock off the best guys to do it.
This is the only way to those belts.
We've had it easy until now, and I accept that. You can quote me as being the first to come out and say it. Beating one X-Division champion, and pinning two more champs in haphazard tag matches really doesn't compare to having to go headfirst into the devil's den. We're going to be tested, and it will be a trial by hellfire.
Good.
Send me to hell then.
Let me burn a little.
A lot of people out there have given us the benefit of the doubt before that maybe we're as good as we've claimed to be. That benefit has ended. Those people have picked their side. They don't think that the Rat Pack can stand up to Blood Ties and that we're going to falter. Some have already gone so far as to say that the match was over the second it was announced. The minute Angel decided to give us his attention, we were dead where we stood. And Alex Jones deciding to rip us as well? Well hell, that was just the icing on the cake. I imagine the nCw populace will say that we're boned and that we're going to be put back in our places as the street trash from the bingo halls who tried to walk into the upscale ballrooms. If I were anyone else, I'd say that I'd be a little demoralized too. If Johnny and I were just some two guys paired together to be thrown to the slaughter like Roman Gladiators, I'd hope for the thumbs down just so it would be over right then and there.
But then I remember that I'm Ander James Carvetti
I remember getting beaten up every day after school when I was 13 years old by jackasses much bigger than myself all because I had lunch money and they didn't. I learned muay thai to defend myself and after slamming my knees into their faces, I had lunch every day after that.
I remember entering the world of professional kickboxing and being told that because I wasn't from Thailand, or Holland, or Japan, I was going to be demolished because the USA doesn't produce good kick-boxers. So I learned more. I trained my ass off. I worked, got knocked down, and stood back up each and every time. I became the best at my weight class. I was so good, they blackballed me from the circuit just to get rid of me.
I remember becoming a professional wrestler and having every single wrestler ever tell me that because I don't know how to wrestle, I'll never succeed. Forget not being able to do back-breakers, brainbusters, and piledrivers, I couldn't even do a body slam. And of course, because I didn't fit the image of a pro-wrestler, I would never draw a crowd. People wouldn't pay to see some small guy throw kicks all day. I was okay with that. I would take the best everyone had to throw at me and get up because I knew I could, and people could get behind that. Then, I would knock people out because I knew I was more than capable of landing one huge kick. People would love knockouts. And if people didn't, then oh well. I was going to piss on their heroes, destroy their legends, defile their gods, and become the milestone of excellence whether they liked what I was doing or not. I believed in myself when no one else would...
Just like I did when I was a kid.
Just like I did when I faced the best kick-boxers in the world.
Just like I did when I became a pro-wrestler.
And you know what? More than anything...
I remember winning.
I remember being beaten to a bloody pulp, like I'd just come off a gang-beating, and I would stand up before everyone and ask “Please sir, can I have some more?” I didn't care about the reputations of others. I was going to take their best *** damned shot; the best that they could offer, stand back up, and spit blood back in their faces. And I was going to smile once I realized that I had seen their best. I had seen what everyone had hyped up as the best that could be offered to me, and I had taken it, and I was still there.
Still alive.
Still fighting.
Still capable of winning.
So here I am now, looking at this tag title match. I see the champions that stand before me, and I know the crowd around me is ready to see me die. This isn't the first time I've been in this position, and I can handle that. Still, that damned question plagues my mind.
Do we deserve this?
Do I deserve this?
And I can only smile because I already know the answer. An answer I've been all too familiar with over the course of my life.
Who cares?
I'm here now, and the opportunity to prove everyone wrong is here. And I know that we're more than capable of doing that. We'll be just fine. How do I know that?
We've taken your best shot.
And we're still here.
Still unsatisfied.
Still wanting that best that everyone said you all had.
And we're going to get that real soon. We'll have that best that we asked for. That “best” that we've wanted to get since day one; from the very moment we walked into this company.
We're gonna be called the “Best” Tag Team in nCw. We're going to take those belts off of you both, and we'll be the new shining standard of excellence for the nCw Tag Team Division.
Blood Ties?
Alex Jones?
Angel?
You're just going to have to settle for being second best.
You deserve that.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Viva... Las Vegas...
(After this past Trauma, Ayako and I decided that the best course of action would be to drive from Reno to Las Vegas for the pay-per-view. Again, the plan was simple. Get there early and get ourselves acquainted with some of the surroundings. Maybe find a gym or something to train in so as to keep me sharp for the match.)
You okay back there, Ander?
(Ayako had been driving and I was resting in the backseat, lying down. I had a digi-cam sitting on my chest and a pillow under my head. Ayako had the car stereo on with my iPod connected to it. Oddly enough, Dirty Vegas' “Days Go By” had decided to come up on the shuffle. I suppose it was appropriate.)
I'm fine. A little bored. You okay driving?
(I watched her shrug from behind the seat...)
No worse for wear. Definitely feeling you on the boredom aspect. I can't wait to get into Vegas though. Helllloooo Bellagio!
(I chuckled a little. She would have the pleasure of being able to relax and gamble a bit of money away, or if we were all lucky, perhaps a bit into her own pockets. Meanwhile, my gamble had some higher stakes. Johnny and I were going to be entering the ring against the tag champions of nCw, and quite early into our careers here I might add. We had talked up a big game and this was going to be the test to see if we would finally crack under the pressure.)
Can't say I don't envy you there, haha.
Those blackjack tables are so screwed. If I have my way, I'm going to be bringing down the house, rolling 21s, and walk away rich!
(I laughed again. Ben Mezrich would be so proud.)
Wow, nice popping of a book reference, right into the movie that was spawned because of it. That has to be worth something in this day and age.
Thanks, I'll be here all night!
(I could tell she was happy with herself on that one. I did really envy her, though our situations were kind of similar. She would be playing a game of chance, to try and strike it big. Johnny and I managed to luck our way into a tag scene that had been blown wide open, and we're in a once in a career opportunity to knock off Blood Ties. This was going to be our jackpot... All we have to do is just beat the house.)
Hey Ayako?
(She turned her head from the road briefly and looked at me in the backseat...)
Yeah?
You think we have a good chance of beating Blood Ties?
(She looked away from the open road again, giving me a look of “Did you really just ask that?” She's a team player, so that answer should have been obvious.)
As good of a chance as I do of raping the blackjack tables. Blackjack is less luck oriented than the rest of the card games in Vegas. If you can keep a tabs on the cards that have been played, essentially counting the cards, you can know when to run the tables and when not to. A good math background makes it fairly easy.
(I shook my head and laughed a little. She tilted her head for a moment...)
You want me to spare you the Asians are good at math humor?
Screw you, but the point stands. Definitely not much different from your tag match right now, really.
(Now it was my turn to look at her inquisitively. I wasn't much of a card game gambler, so the comparison was lost on me.)
Explain.
Well, if you have a good concept of the cards that have been played in Blackjack, as I said, you can run the tables. Most casinos keep a record base of players who enter who have ran the tables on them before and deal with it in a way that is referred to as the Old Style Vegas Treatment.
(I cringed. The ever dreaded,” take them into a private room with no cameras and beat the poor bastard senseless” approach. Not fun to be on the receiving end on.)
Got it. Continue.
Beyond that though, under the right circumstances, someone can come into Vegas and run the casinos for millions. Now this is where you and Johnny come in. Both of you are very good, and I am confident that you are much better than those two scrubs that happen to be holding the belts, and I really don't care how many titles Angel has won and lost.
Haha, thanks.
No problem. You two are the best talents here and they don't even know it yet, even with the history you two have. Sadly, they're refusing to even acknowledge it because it didn't happen in their bubble they call nCw, so it doesn't count. That's going to be their mistake. You two are a walking Ace/Jack combo, and these idiots either can't measure up or are straight going to bust out.
(I smiled. At least I wasn't alone in knowing that Johnny and I have a good shot at this.)
Thanks for that. Probably what I needed to hear.
Well, don't thank me yet.
(Err...what?)
Pardon?
I said don't thank me yet. If you two lose, you lose your reputations and you both look stupid. No real problem there except it just means you need to rebuild yourselves. I'd be more worried about winning.
And why is that?
(She turned her head towards me again. She looked a little more serious than before, and I knew this was something that I needed to take heed of.)
If you two win, you'll be champions. More importantly, you'll have brought down the house. The house doesn't like to lose. You'll have broken every perception that nCw probably has set in it's talent, and every proverbial pit boss in that company is going to be looking to collect on you two.
(She was right. This was a company that already did not like us. They didn't want to see us succeed, and truthfully, they had little faith in us to do so. For us to win would probably mean we were going to have a huge battle on our hands from that moment forward. We would be wild cards trying to vie for survival under the house rules.)
Well, my wonderful manager... what do you suppose Johnny and I do?
(She turned around one more time, grinned, and pointed to the camera on my chest...)
I believe The Rat Pack needs to take the house to the cleaners, and run the table with them...
Starting with Blood Ties.
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Angel, I know you're listening to this. I know that this promo is really what you've been waiting for since this match was announced. Me being the supposed brains of this operation, and being the one who loves playing with people's words, this has been the one that you've anticipated the most. This is the promo that matters to you, especially more than you would like to admit, but I'll get into that later.
I have to admit, I love opponents like you.
No, not the kind with the goofy gimmickry that's supposed to incite some kind of fear or uneasiness in me. Sad to say, I've seen that crap far too many times to be rattled by it at this point. Take what I said about Maniac last week, and apply it where necessary to yourself, because that's what I see right now. Dark and angry with a penchant for prayer, meet MMA Goon. Glad to have the chance to meet.
And no, it's not the big record with all the title wins and a guaranteed slot into some kind of hall of fame in the future. Congrats, you've managed to beat everyone that nCw had to offer you at that time. Those people aren't in this match and they're not me. You might as well be coming in with a fresh record at this point.
And really, it's not even the fact that like every other person here in nCw who we've had the chance to beat thus far, you maintain that aura of superiority that because you worked here before we did, you're better than us...
You know, I could almost love hearing this one each time it comes out of someone's mouth. Because you got here first, and nCw or whatever company of the week we're talking about keeps paying you to say that they're the only place that matters, that makes you better than us. Yes well, sorry that up until now, nCw wasn't a blip on OUR radars. Sorry that we were getting more out of the “bingo halls” than on the ”Big Show”. It's okay though, we're going to make up for lost time. We're that good, so we'll get it done now.
Getting back on track though, let me tell you what I do love about guys like you.
I love knowing that we have you rattled.
I love knowing that whether you want to admit it or not, you're afraid of us.
And personally speaking, I love knowing that you all really hate having to deal with me.
You don't like the fact that I go over my opponents with a fine tooth comb? Really Angel, that bothers you? You want to call us out, try to discredit us, but when it comes time to pay the piper, suddenly that's not fair? You like to talk, but hate being held to your words, like a man should be?
Tell you what, go ahead and play that last part back. Better yet, I'll repeat myself. Just for you.
You like to talk, but hate being held to your words, like a man should be?
I'm now questioning your manhood. I'm questioning your ability to deliver. How can I respect a man who's afraid to be held to his words. I thought you were the best this company had to offer? I thought you were the king around here? I figured you were the most decorated champion in this company, but suddenly this is too much for you? This, you can't handle? Your own words? Did the “rookie” shine a light on something that wasn't supposed to be seen?
Too bad.
I love taking that fine toothed comb to guys like you because it shows me exactly how you're going to behave in the ring. Your words reflect your performances, and from that quip, I already know more about you than you know about yourself. You're good, that's for sure. I'll give the Devil his due and say that. However just like Maniac...
You're Reckless.
You're Thoughtless.
You're Stupid.
And best of all?
You're afraid.
Johnny already took the time of day to ream you and show you your place in the NEW nCw hierarchy and now I'm going to finish the job. I'll give you that fine toothed comb treatment that you want so badly. After all, for someone who just doesn't quite care and doesn't quite think we measure up, you sure did give our names a lot of airtime. Certainly a lot more than previous tag teams have earned in the past.
Face it, we're in your head. You can't deny it now. Can't run from it. You know that yourself and your partner are in for a rude awakening. Johnny and I aren't the kind of people that let things like that go. We're going to take your titles and rub it in your faces. We'll remind you every single chance that we get that when it came down to it, even the elite in this company couldn't come close to measuring up. Maybe when this is over, you'll learn a lesson in keeping your mouth shut and accepting your real place in this hierarchy. You say we aren't in your league? The Rat Pack isn't in the league of Blood Ties?
You're right.
We're above you.
This is just the match that proves it. They're going to find out soon enough that even the best champion that nCw might have to offer, mind you a pathetic waste that deserves to respect in the first place, can't compare to champions who've dominated this entire industry. Go ahead, call me a failure that needs to go back to the bingo hall. I'll wear that mantle proudly. You can go ahead and quote me on that one too. I'd rather be a bingo hall washout than a big dog champion who gets so rattled when someone makes him eat his own words. Who would have ever guessed nCw's “finest” were afraid of the english language?
If Trent were dead, he'd be rolling over in his grave. He would cry at what this company has become.
Call yourself an Angel. Call yourself a savior. All I see is nCw's resident False Prophet leading this company down a path of mediocrity and stupidity. And I say it's high time that we cast this arrogant and prideful angel down from his perch, down to the bottom rungs of curtain jerk hell, and let the real saviors of the industry take the throne.
And you can fade to black on...
Wait.
Hahaha, wait a minute. Alex Jones, I almost forgot about you.
In my complete fervor to burn your partner to the ground, I forgot you were there. Silly me, I guess with those two X-Division reigns against your partner's treasure trove of accolades, I didn't really think you were worth acknowledging, but here we are. I guess I'll go ahead and give you the camera time that you deserve. Something fitting for the Robin to Angel's Batman.
Yes, here it is.
Don't ever put your name in the same league as mine.
You simply don't measure up. You never will. You don't even measure up to your partner. For sure, he's at least managed to pull the trigger in this company, something that should be easy to do anyway. The best you can tell me is that you've managed to give a few people on the upper rungs a run for their money? You've made them sweat a little? You made them actually have to work?
This is what your proud of?
Really?
Yeah, sorry that I'm not exactly jumping for joy at the thought of being mediocre for the rest of my career, and maybe just once or twice having a flash of brilliance or two. I actually plan on winning. I plan on winning a lot. I plan on winning with my partner, who might I add, doesn't have to carry me around because I'm the sidekick. I have ambition to be something more than just a guy who secured a tag title reign because the guy who was kicking my teeth in every week saw a little something in me and decided I was worth the trouble of carrying around.
And if you want to throw around your personal accomplishments, I would suggest leaving the entire X-Division out of it. Congratulations, you managed to dominate a division that's dictated by who's willing to stick around for the first month or two and try to do something with themselves. I proved I was beyond that waste of time on week two. I had better plans than trying to be the best at being average. That whole division was a stepping stone. And to call yourself the most dominant?
Remember when I said the X-Division was a stepping stone?
All that did was make you the biggest stone to step on.
You think the X-Division is supposed to mean something to me? Go ask Ragnal and Tempestad what I thought of their games. Go ask what an X-Division champion thought of me before I stepped into the ring, and after I walked out with my hand raised above my head. I can safely guarantee you that your reign of dominance in that division means as much to me as Angel's own credibility, especially after I decided to put him under the light. You being the best at sucking does not garner any respect or admiration from me.
I'm beyond that song and dance.
Just like I'm beyond you and Angel.
Just like The Rat Pack is beyond Blood Ties.
And at Road to the Gold, you two and the rest of nCw are going to see just that. A couple of bingo hall rejects are going to run the table on this company and remind everyone why we're the saviors of this industry, why we're the gold standard, and why we more than deserve those belts.
And you can fade to black on that.
“He who refuses to embrace a unique opportunity loses the prize as surely as if he had failed.” - William James
“When written in Chinese, the word "crisis" is composed of two characters-one represents danger, and the other represents opportunity.” - JFK
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
For the past two days, I've had one question to ask myself:
Do we deserve this?
Myself and Johnny, The Rat Pack, have received our crack at the nCw Tag Team Titles much sooner than we could have possibly expected. After knocking off another makeshift team composed of two guys who aren't quite seeing eye to eye, someone in the top brass felt it was time to give us our chance to shine. A chance to make good on our goal to collect Tag Gold.
Sounds easy enough.
Can't be that hard.
We only have to make it through a two-time nCw X-Division champion and perhaps the single most decorated champion in this entire company. We've gone through the bunny path of tag challenges, and now, they've decided to completely ignore putting us on a proverbial Death Row.
They're sending us straight to the chair.
No jury to decide whether or not we should be here, no judge to carry out a normal sentence deserving of the situation. We're going right to the executioner's block, and we get to look the hooded figure of death straight in the eyes and find out if we're going to be shocked and awed, or maybe we'll get lucky, and the Governor will call with a last minute pardon. Somehow saying a mistake was made and we belong elsewhere.
Of course, we're not that lucky and this isn't a mistake.
We want those tag titles.
We want to knock off the best guys to do it.
This is the only way to those belts.
We've had it easy until now, and I accept that. You can quote me as being the first to come out and say it. Beating one X-Division champion, and pinning two more champs in haphazard tag matches really doesn't compare to having to go headfirst into the devil's den. We're going to be tested, and it will be a trial by hellfire.
Good.
Send me to hell then.
Let me burn a little.
A lot of people out there have given us the benefit of the doubt before that maybe we're as good as we've claimed to be. That benefit has ended. Those people have picked their side. They don't think that the Rat Pack can stand up to Blood Ties and that we're going to falter. Some have already gone so far as to say that the match was over the second it was announced. The minute Angel decided to give us his attention, we were dead where we stood. And Alex Jones deciding to rip us as well? Well hell, that was just the icing on the cake. I imagine the nCw populace will say that we're boned and that we're going to be put back in our places as the street trash from the bingo halls who tried to walk into the upscale ballrooms. If I were anyone else, I'd say that I'd be a little demoralized too. If Johnny and I were just some two guys paired together to be thrown to the slaughter like Roman Gladiators, I'd hope for the thumbs down just so it would be over right then and there.
But then I remember that I'm Ander James Carvetti
I remember getting beaten up every day after school when I was 13 years old by jackasses much bigger than myself all because I had lunch money and they didn't. I learned muay thai to defend myself and after slamming my knees into their faces, I had lunch every day after that.
I remember entering the world of professional kickboxing and being told that because I wasn't from Thailand, or Holland, or Japan, I was going to be demolished because the USA doesn't produce good kick-boxers. So I learned more. I trained my ass off. I worked, got knocked down, and stood back up each and every time. I became the best at my weight class. I was so good, they blackballed me from the circuit just to get rid of me.
I remember becoming a professional wrestler and having every single wrestler ever tell me that because I don't know how to wrestle, I'll never succeed. Forget not being able to do back-breakers, brainbusters, and piledrivers, I couldn't even do a body slam. And of course, because I didn't fit the image of a pro-wrestler, I would never draw a crowd. People wouldn't pay to see some small guy throw kicks all day. I was okay with that. I would take the best everyone had to throw at me and get up because I knew I could, and people could get behind that. Then, I would knock people out because I knew I was more than capable of landing one huge kick. People would love knockouts. And if people didn't, then oh well. I was going to piss on their heroes, destroy their legends, defile their gods, and become the milestone of excellence whether they liked what I was doing or not. I believed in myself when no one else would...
Just like I did when I was a kid.
Just like I did when I faced the best kick-boxers in the world.
Just like I did when I became a pro-wrestler.
And you know what? More than anything...
I remember winning.
I remember being beaten to a bloody pulp, like I'd just come off a gang-beating, and I would stand up before everyone and ask “Please sir, can I have some more?” I didn't care about the reputations of others. I was going to take their best *** damned shot; the best that they could offer, stand back up, and spit blood back in their faces. And I was going to smile once I realized that I had seen their best. I had seen what everyone had hyped up as the best that could be offered to me, and I had taken it, and I was still there.
Still alive.
Still fighting.
Still capable of winning.
So here I am now, looking at this tag title match. I see the champions that stand before me, and I know the crowd around me is ready to see me die. This isn't the first time I've been in this position, and I can handle that. Still, that damned question plagues my mind.
Do we deserve this?
Do I deserve this?
And I can only smile because I already know the answer. An answer I've been all too familiar with over the course of my life.
Who cares?
I'm here now, and the opportunity to prove everyone wrong is here. And I know that we're more than capable of doing that. We'll be just fine. How do I know that?
We've taken your best shot.
And we're still here.
Still unsatisfied.
Still wanting that best that everyone said you all had.
And we're going to get that real soon. We'll have that best that we asked for. That “best” that we've wanted to get since day one; from the very moment we walked into this company.
We're gonna be called the “Best” Tag Team in nCw. We're going to take those belts off of you both, and we'll be the new shining standard of excellence for the nCw Tag Team Division.
Blood Ties?
Alex Jones?
Angel?
You're just going to have to settle for being second best.
You deserve that.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Viva... Las Vegas...
(After this past Trauma, Ayako and I decided that the best course of action would be to drive from Reno to Las Vegas for the pay-per-view. Again, the plan was simple. Get there early and get ourselves acquainted with some of the surroundings. Maybe find a gym or something to train in so as to keep me sharp for the match.)
You okay back there, Ander?
(Ayako had been driving and I was resting in the backseat, lying down. I had a digi-cam sitting on my chest and a pillow under my head. Ayako had the car stereo on with my iPod connected to it. Oddly enough, Dirty Vegas' “Days Go By” had decided to come up on the shuffle. I suppose it was appropriate.)
I'm fine. A little bored. You okay driving?
(I watched her shrug from behind the seat...)
No worse for wear. Definitely feeling you on the boredom aspect. I can't wait to get into Vegas though. Helllloooo Bellagio!
(I chuckled a little. She would have the pleasure of being able to relax and gamble a bit of money away, or if we were all lucky, perhaps a bit into her own pockets. Meanwhile, my gamble had some higher stakes. Johnny and I were going to be entering the ring against the tag champions of nCw, and quite early into our careers here I might add. We had talked up a big game and this was going to be the test to see if we would finally crack under the pressure.)
Can't say I don't envy you there, haha.
Those blackjack tables are so screwed. If I have my way, I'm going to be bringing down the house, rolling 21s, and walk away rich!
(I laughed again. Ben Mezrich would be so proud.)
Wow, nice popping of a book reference, right into the movie that was spawned because of it. That has to be worth something in this day and age.
Thanks, I'll be here all night!
(I could tell she was happy with herself on that one. I did really envy her, though our situations were kind of similar. She would be playing a game of chance, to try and strike it big. Johnny and I managed to luck our way into a tag scene that had been blown wide open, and we're in a once in a career opportunity to knock off Blood Ties. This was going to be our jackpot... All we have to do is just beat the house.)
Hey Ayako?
(She turned her head from the road briefly and looked at me in the backseat...)
Yeah?
You think we have a good chance of beating Blood Ties?
(She looked away from the open road again, giving me a look of “Did you really just ask that?” She's a team player, so that answer should have been obvious.)
As good of a chance as I do of raping the blackjack tables. Blackjack is less luck oriented than the rest of the card games in Vegas. If you can keep a tabs on the cards that have been played, essentially counting the cards, you can know when to run the tables and when not to. A good math background makes it fairly easy.
(I shook my head and laughed a little. She tilted her head for a moment...)
You want me to spare you the Asians are good at math humor?
Screw you, but the point stands. Definitely not much different from your tag match right now, really.
(Now it was my turn to look at her inquisitively. I wasn't much of a card game gambler, so the comparison was lost on me.)
Explain.
Well, if you have a good concept of the cards that have been played in Blackjack, as I said, you can run the tables. Most casinos keep a record base of players who enter who have ran the tables on them before and deal with it in a way that is referred to as the Old Style Vegas Treatment.
(I cringed. The ever dreaded,” take them into a private room with no cameras and beat the poor bastard senseless” approach. Not fun to be on the receiving end on.)
Got it. Continue.
Beyond that though, under the right circumstances, someone can come into Vegas and run the casinos for millions. Now this is where you and Johnny come in. Both of you are very good, and I am confident that you are much better than those two scrubs that happen to be holding the belts, and I really don't care how many titles Angel has won and lost.
Haha, thanks.
No problem. You two are the best talents here and they don't even know it yet, even with the history you two have. Sadly, they're refusing to even acknowledge it because it didn't happen in their bubble they call nCw, so it doesn't count. That's going to be their mistake. You two are a walking Ace/Jack combo, and these idiots either can't measure up or are straight going to bust out.
(I smiled. At least I wasn't alone in knowing that Johnny and I have a good shot at this.)
Thanks for that. Probably what I needed to hear.
Well, don't thank me yet.
(Err...what?)
Pardon?
I said don't thank me yet. If you two lose, you lose your reputations and you both look stupid. No real problem there except it just means you need to rebuild yourselves. I'd be more worried about winning.
And why is that?
(She turned her head towards me again. She looked a little more serious than before, and I knew this was something that I needed to take heed of.)
If you two win, you'll be champions. More importantly, you'll have brought down the house. The house doesn't like to lose. You'll have broken every perception that nCw probably has set in it's talent, and every proverbial pit boss in that company is going to be looking to collect on you two.
(She was right. This was a company that already did not like us. They didn't want to see us succeed, and truthfully, they had little faith in us to do so. For us to win would probably mean we were going to have a huge battle on our hands from that moment forward. We would be wild cards trying to vie for survival under the house rules.)
Well, my wonderful manager... what do you suppose Johnny and I do?
(She turned around one more time, grinned, and pointed to the camera on my chest...)
I believe The Rat Pack needs to take the house to the cleaners, and run the table with them...
Starting with Blood Ties.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Angel, I know you're listening to this. I know that this promo is really what you've been waiting for since this match was announced. Me being the supposed brains of this operation, and being the one who loves playing with people's words, this has been the one that you've anticipated the most. This is the promo that matters to you, especially more than you would like to admit, but I'll get into that later.
I have to admit, I love opponents like you.
No, not the kind with the goofy gimmickry that's supposed to incite some kind of fear or uneasiness in me. Sad to say, I've seen that crap far too many times to be rattled by it at this point. Take what I said about Maniac last week, and apply it where necessary to yourself, because that's what I see right now. Dark and angry with a penchant for prayer, meet MMA Goon. Glad to have the chance to meet.
And no, it's not the big record with all the title wins and a guaranteed slot into some kind of hall of fame in the future. Congrats, you've managed to beat everyone that nCw had to offer you at that time. Those people aren't in this match and they're not me. You might as well be coming in with a fresh record at this point.
And really, it's not even the fact that like every other person here in nCw who we've had the chance to beat thus far, you maintain that aura of superiority that because you worked here before we did, you're better than us...
You know, I could almost love hearing this one each time it comes out of someone's mouth. Because you got here first, and nCw or whatever company of the week we're talking about keeps paying you to say that they're the only place that matters, that makes you better than us. Yes well, sorry that up until now, nCw wasn't a blip on OUR radars. Sorry that we were getting more out of the “bingo halls” than on the ”Big Show”. It's okay though, we're going to make up for lost time. We're that good, so we'll get it done now.
Getting back on track though, let me tell you what I do love about guys like you.
I love knowing that we have you rattled.
I love knowing that whether you want to admit it or not, you're afraid of us.
And personally speaking, I love knowing that you all really hate having to deal with me.
You don't like the fact that I go over my opponents with a fine tooth comb? Really Angel, that bothers you? You want to call us out, try to discredit us, but when it comes time to pay the piper, suddenly that's not fair? You like to talk, but hate being held to your words, like a man should be?
Tell you what, go ahead and play that last part back. Better yet, I'll repeat myself. Just for you.
You like to talk, but hate being held to your words, like a man should be?
I'm now questioning your manhood. I'm questioning your ability to deliver. How can I respect a man who's afraid to be held to his words. I thought you were the best this company had to offer? I thought you were the king around here? I figured you were the most decorated champion in this company, but suddenly this is too much for you? This, you can't handle? Your own words? Did the “rookie” shine a light on something that wasn't supposed to be seen?
Too bad.
I love taking that fine toothed comb to guys like you because it shows me exactly how you're going to behave in the ring. Your words reflect your performances, and from that quip, I already know more about you than you know about yourself. You're good, that's for sure. I'll give the Devil his due and say that. However just like Maniac...
You're Reckless.
You're Thoughtless.
You're Stupid.
And best of all?
You're afraid.
Johnny already took the time of day to ream you and show you your place in the NEW nCw hierarchy and now I'm going to finish the job. I'll give you that fine toothed comb treatment that you want so badly. After all, for someone who just doesn't quite care and doesn't quite think we measure up, you sure did give our names a lot of airtime. Certainly a lot more than previous tag teams have earned in the past.
Face it, we're in your head. You can't deny it now. Can't run from it. You know that yourself and your partner are in for a rude awakening. Johnny and I aren't the kind of people that let things like that go. We're going to take your titles and rub it in your faces. We'll remind you every single chance that we get that when it came down to it, even the elite in this company couldn't come close to measuring up. Maybe when this is over, you'll learn a lesson in keeping your mouth shut and accepting your real place in this hierarchy. You say we aren't in your league? The Rat Pack isn't in the league of Blood Ties?
You're right.
We're above you.
This is just the match that proves it. They're going to find out soon enough that even the best champion that nCw might have to offer, mind you a pathetic waste that deserves to respect in the first place, can't compare to champions who've dominated this entire industry. Go ahead, call me a failure that needs to go back to the bingo hall. I'll wear that mantle proudly. You can go ahead and quote me on that one too. I'd rather be a bingo hall washout than a big dog champion who gets so rattled when someone makes him eat his own words. Who would have ever guessed nCw's “finest” were afraid of the english language?
If Trent were dead, he'd be rolling over in his grave. He would cry at what this company has become.
Call yourself an Angel. Call yourself a savior. All I see is nCw's resident False Prophet leading this company down a path of mediocrity and stupidity. And I say it's high time that we cast this arrogant and prideful angel down from his perch, down to the bottom rungs of curtain jerk hell, and let the real saviors of the industry take the throne.
And you can fade to black on...
Wait.
Hahaha, wait a minute. Alex Jones, I almost forgot about you.
In my complete fervor to burn your partner to the ground, I forgot you were there. Silly me, I guess with those two X-Division reigns against your partner's treasure trove of accolades, I didn't really think you were worth acknowledging, but here we are. I guess I'll go ahead and give you the camera time that you deserve. Something fitting for the Robin to Angel's Batman.
Yes, here it is.
Don't ever put your name in the same league as mine.
You simply don't measure up. You never will. You don't even measure up to your partner. For sure, he's at least managed to pull the trigger in this company, something that should be easy to do anyway. The best you can tell me is that you've managed to give a few people on the upper rungs a run for their money? You've made them sweat a little? You made them actually have to work?
This is what your proud of?
Really?
Yeah, sorry that I'm not exactly jumping for joy at the thought of being mediocre for the rest of my career, and maybe just once or twice having a flash of brilliance or two. I actually plan on winning. I plan on winning a lot. I plan on winning with my partner, who might I add, doesn't have to carry me around because I'm the sidekick. I have ambition to be something more than just a guy who secured a tag title reign because the guy who was kicking my teeth in every week saw a little something in me and decided I was worth the trouble of carrying around.
And if you want to throw around your personal accomplishments, I would suggest leaving the entire X-Division out of it. Congratulations, you managed to dominate a division that's dictated by who's willing to stick around for the first month or two and try to do something with themselves. I proved I was beyond that waste of time on week two. I had better plans than trying to be the best at being average. That whole division was a stepping stone. And to call yourself the most dominant?
Remember when I said the X-Division was a stepping stone?
All that did was make you the biggest stone to step on.
You think the X-Division is supposed to mean something to me? Go ask Ragnal and Tempestad what I thought of their games. Go ask what an X-Division champion thought of me before I stepped into the ring, and after I walked out with my hand raised above my head. I can safely guarantee you that your reign of dominance in that division means as much to me as Angel's own credibility, especially after I decided to put him under the light. You being the best at sucking does not garner any respect or admiration from me.
I'm beyond that song and dance.
Just like I'm beyond you and Angel.
Just like The Rat Pack is beyond Blood Ties.
And at Road to the Gold, you two and the rest of nCw are going to see just that. A couple of bingo hall rejects are going to run the table on this company and remind everyone why we're the saviors of this industry, why we're the gold standard, and why we more than deserve those belts.
And you can fade to black on that.