Post by Angel on Aug 26, 2011 5:44:21 GMT -6
It's been too long.
Too long since I stepped between the ropes, got to remind everyone just why I'm the best in the world. The ring rust is hardly noticeable as I shoot in to lock up with my trainer. He pushes me back, a gravelly laugh escaping his throat.
“You think you can coast by on that? You made your bed of nails, I want you to be ready to lay in it. Now come on!”
I move back in, locking up again, and switch to a side headlock. He goes for the standard “push off the ropes” counter and I reverse it into a bulldog. He hits the canvas and I get to my feet. As I stand, however...there she is. Phone in hand, sardonic grin on her face. I step out and walk over to her.
“Didn't expect you here. Honestly, I thought I'd driven you off. Guess I didn't give you enough credit.”
She smiles again, shaking her head and handing me the phone.
“I've known you long enough...you have your bouts of stupidity. We all do. The important thing is you realize you were being an idiot. Now answer the phone.”
I look at it. It's Diamond. I stifle a curse and answer it, resigned.
“Hello?”
“Big man!”
I sigh. The man can be incredibly grating at times...
“What is it, Rob? I'm busy, and I don't feel like just chatting with you right now.”
Rob chuckles, and I feel the sudden urge to reach out and throttle someone.
“No problem. Just wanted to call and let you know that Steve had a hard time accepting it, but you can consider yourself a provisional member of Infamous...pending, of course, our win on Sunday.”
And I thought I'd seen it all...
“That's flattering, Rob, but I'd rather focus on the win and not patting ourselves on the backs beforehand. I'm sure there's more you could be doing than talking my ear off right now. Hop to it.”
I hang up. Last thing I need is more of his natter. I hand the phone back to her, kissing her cheek.
“Thank you...sorry to put this on you, but next time he calls...you mind finding out if it's important first?”
She laughs...God, how I love that laugh. She can have the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it always sounds so carefree.
“Got it. You go back to your work, Mr. Tough Guy. The rest of us have desk jobs to take care of.”
I nod to her, walking back over to the ring and pulling myself back up onto the apron. I look to my trainer and shrug at him.
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
This match...just might give me the closure I need.
______________________________
“I've been watching you two...Lex...James...Jimmy, whichever it is...and I have to say, I'm extremely disappointed in the both of you. You're supposed to be making an impact? You're supposed to be the dominant new force in this company? I really wonder sometimes if the Young Guns have ever produced something worthwhile...I don't see champions when I look at you two. I see a confused little boy who can't decide whether he wants to be a Voodoo Child or a lone Wolfe...and I see you, Lex. A psychopath who, even though he denies it, oh so desperately wants to live up to the legacy of brutality nCw has wrought in her past. Men like Homeless Harold and Maniac, the ones who took you in...and men like Angel, the one whose career and whose life you tried to end.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that you didn't assault Angel because you wanted to make a statement. You did it because you were angry you couldn't get the job done. Not that you come from a group who've been very good recently about getting the job done. Look at your leadership...or what passed for it. Jacobsen was stepping into boots he had no right trying to fill, and he failed miserably. His abandoning you after Picture Perfect just cemented Venom's lapse in judgment taking him in. Add to that Verona losing the X Title, Jacobsen's spectacular choking with the National Title, Zane having an underwhelming match against Todd Williams...you were the only bright spot in an otherwise dismal time for the Young Guns.
Speaking of Zane, he's a fine example of how the Young Guns' recruiting standards have decayed. There was a time when being a Young Gun meant you were the best of the best. You had to be elite to be a Gun. And, at one time or another, the Young Guns held every single title in nCw. World, National, X, Xtreme, X-Division, Honor, Tag, Women's...every one of them. Look at you now...clinging to the Tag Team Championship like a life preserver in the middle of a maelstrom. What happened to the dominance I knew?
Jimmy...you think that you can pick up one win and rest on your laurels? I would advise taking your work more seriously, boy. You get to bitch and moan about being called a coattail-rider all you like, but the fact is, until you do anything more than flake on Bates and luck out with Lex as your partner, you will always be regarded as a joke. A one-note, tired, played-out joke.
I do love how you claim to be an 'evolutionary' and some sort of constantly changing force. You're not evolving as a wrestler, Jimmy. You're reverting. Look at yourself. You may win matches, but with antics like not being able to decide whether you're Jimmy Zane or James Wolfe you further cement yourself as a mediocre gimmick. Just as expected...
While you stuff your face with ice cream and linger on your former teammates, you're only proving what I'm saying. You're a fool, Jimmy.
On any other day, I would have ignored Rob Diamond's phone call. The man has done nothing for me. In fact, he's done less than nothing for me. My problem isn't so much with him as his girlfried, our in absentia Women's Champion. Yes, I'm talking about you, Zelda.
Zelda...I put my trust in you. I confided in you, believed in you, thought you were my ally...and you stabbed me in the back for the sake of Rob Diamond. You squandered that faith, and I don't give it out easily. But this match isn't about you. nCw no longer lives and dies by your word, and she's healthier for it.
Lex, Jimmy...what happens in that ring is personal. Every strike, every throw, is punishment for the dishonor you brought to the Young Guns name. The simple facts are that Jimmy, you were never worthy...and Lex, you proved yourself a coward. Angel would be more of a man as a cripple with his back broken than either of you could ever be. So, when reality hits and you're staring up at the lights, and Rob and I raising the Tag Team Titles in the air...when you get that crystal-clear moment of truth...you can...
Thank Me Later.”
______________________________
I roll out of the ring, stretching my shoulder out. Turns out a hammerlock can be more annoying than previously thought. She walks back up to me, phone in hand again.
“Rob again?”
She holds back a chuckle, shaking her head.
”No...it's Steve.”
I look at the phone with the same sort of look you give a particularly disobedient child.
”What part of 'please filter my calls' didn't you get? If I wanted that sort of migraine, I'd go ask someone to beat my head in with a kendo stick for twenty minutes. Let it go to voicemail...I've got more important things to do.”
She smirks at me and heads back to the office, leaving the phone on the bench. I reach down and pocket it before heading for the door.
This match is a new opportunity. It's a chance to return with a big impact.
This is my destiny.
This is my opportunity.
And nobody will stand in my way.
Too long since I stepped between the ropes, got to remind everyone just why I'm the best in the world. The ring rust is hardly noticeable as I shoot in to lock up with my trainer. He pushes me back, a gravelly laugh escaping his throat.
“You think you can coast by on that? You made your bed of nails, I want you to be ready to lay in it. Now come on!”
I move back in, locking up again, and switch to a side headlock. He goes for the standard “push off the ropes” counter and I reverse it into a bulldog. He hits the canvas and I get to my feet. As I stand, however...there she is. Phone in hand, sardonic grin on her face. I step out and walk over to her.
“Didn't expect you here. Honestly, I thought I'd driven you off. Guess I didn't give you enough credit.”
She smiles again, shaking her head and handing me the phone.
“I've known you long enough...you have your bouts of stupidity. We all do. The important thing is you realize you were being an idiot. Now answer the phone.”
I look at it. It's Diamond. I stifle a curse and answer it, resigned.
“Hello?”
“Big man!”
I sigh. The man can be incredibly grating at times...
“What is it, Rob? I'm busy, and I don't feel like just chatting with you right now.”
Rob chuckles, and I feel the sudden urge to reach out and throttle someone.
“No problem. Just wanted to call and let you know that Steve had a hard time accepting it, but you can consider yourself a provisional member of Infamous...pending, of course, our win on Sunday.”
And I thought I'd seen it all...
“That's flattering, Rob, but I'd rather focus on the win and not patting ourselves on the backs beforehand. I'm sure there's more you could be doing than talking my ear off right now. Hop to it.”
I hang up. Last thing I need is more of his natter. I hand the phone back to her, kissing her cheek.
“Thank you...sorry to put this on you, but next time he calls...you mind finding out if it's important first?”
She laughs...God, how I love that laugh. She can have the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it always sounds so carefree.
“Got it. You go back to your work, Mr. Tough Guy. The rest of us have desk jobs to take care of.”
I nod to her, walking back over to the ring and pulling myself back up onto the apron. I look to my trainer and shrug at him.
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
This match...just might give me the closure I need.
______________________________
“I've been watching you two...Lex...James...Jimmy, whichever it is...and I have to say, I'm extremely disappointed in the both of you. You're supposed to be making an impact? You're supposed to be the dominant new force in this company? I really wonder sometimes if the Young Guns have ever produced something worthwhile...I don't see champions when I look at you two. I see a confused little boy who can't decide whether he wants to be a Voodoo Child or a lone Wolfe...and I see you, Lex. A psychopath who, even though he denies it, oh so desperately wants to live up to the legacy of brutality nCw has wrought in her past. Men like Homeless Harold and Maniac, the ones who took you in...and men like Angel, the one whose career and whose life you tried to end.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that you didn't assault Angel because you wanted to make a statement. You did it because you were angry you couldn't get the job done. Not that you come from a group who've been very good recently about getting the job done. Look at your leadership...or what passed for it. Jacobsen was stepping into boots he had no right trying to fill, and he failed miserably. His abandoning you after Picture Perfect just cemented Venom's lapse in judgment taking him in. Add to that Verona losing the X Title, Jacobsen's spectacular choking with the National Title, Zane having an underwhelming match against Todd Williams...you were the only bright spot in an otherwise dismal time for the Young Guns.
Speaking of Zane, he's a fine example of how the Young Guns' recruiting standards have decayed. There was a time when being a Young Gun meant you were the best of the best. You had to be elite to be a Gun. And, at one time or another, the Young Guns held every single title in nCw. World, National, X, Xtreme, X-Division, Honor, Tag, Women's...every one of them. Look at you now...clinging to the Tag Team Championship like a life preserver in the middle of a maelstrom. What happened to the dominance I knew?
Jimmy...you think that you can pick up one win and rest on your laurels? I would advise taking your work more seriously, boy. You get to bitch and moan about being called a coattail-rider all you like, but the fact is, until you do anything more than flake on Bates and luck out with Lex as your partner, you will always be regarded as a joke. A one-note, tired, played-out joke.
I do love how you claim to be an 'evolutionary' and some sort of constantly changing force. You're not evolving as a wrestler, Jimmy. You're reverting. Look at yourself. You may win matches, but with antics like not being able to decide whether you're Jimmy Zane or James Wolfe you further cement yourself as a mediocre gimmick. Just as expected...
While you stuff your face with ice cream and linger on your former teammates, you're only proving what I'm saying. You're a fool, Jimmy.
On any other day, I would have ignored Rob Diamond's phone call. The man has done nothing for me. In fact, he's done less than nothing for me. My problem isn't so much with him as his girlfried, our in absentia Women's Champion. Yes, I'm talking about you, Zelda.
Zelda...I put my trust in you. I confided in you, believed in you, thought you were my ally...and you stabbed me in the back for the sake of Rob Diamond. You squandered that faith, and I don't give it out easily. But this match isn't about you. nCw no longer lives and dies by your word, and she's healthier for it.
Lex, Jimmy...what happens in that ring is personal. Every strike, every throw, is punishment for the dishonor you brought to the Young Guns name. The simple facts are that Jimmy, you were never worthy...and Lex, you proved yourself a coward. Angel would be more of a man as a cripple with his back broken than either of you could ever be. So, when reality hits and you're staring up at the lights, and Rob and I raising the Tag Team Titles in the air...when you get that crystal-clear moment of truth...you can...
Thank Me Later.”
______________________________
I roll out of the ring, stretching my shoulder out. Turns out a hammerlock can be more annoying than previously thought. She walks back up to me, phone in hand again.
“Rob again?”
She holds back a chuckle, shaking her head.
”No...it's Steve.”
I look at the phone with the same sort of look you give a particularly disobedient child.
”What part of 'please filter my calls' didn't you get? If I wanted that sort of migraine, I'd go ask someone to beat my head in with a kendo stick for twenty minutes. Let it go to voicemail...I've got more important things to do.”
She smirks at me and heads back to the office, leaving the phone on the bench. I reach down and pocket it before heading for the door.
This match is a new opportunity. It's a chance to return with a big impact.
This is my destiny.
This is my opportunity.
And nobody will stand in my way.