Post by Spike Kane on Oct 27, 2011 18:53:29 GMT -6
“I'd rather hate you, for everything you are.
Than love you for something that you're not”
Than love you for something that you're not”
The scene opens up on the hospital room that we previously saw Spike Kane visiting Alysson Gardner in. Alysson is laying in the bed asleep, nothing seems to be wrong she just seems to be resting. Spike is sitting in a comfy chair at bedside. He's still wearing the same clothes we saw last time, which means he clearly hasn't been home since. His eyes wander to Alysson, her red hair splayed out on the pillow and he smiles to himself.
Beep, Beep
Spike's cellphone goes off. Spike looks down and reads the message he has just received. A sinister grin spreads across Spike's face as he starts typing on his HTC Wildfire S. The message cannot really be read on the screen as the text is just a little too small and is blurry. Alyssons arm moves and Spike stops typing, just to check if she's waking up. For a moment it seems like he doesn't want to be caught texting. The camera moves a little and we see Spike selecting the person the text to be sent to.
“Pooler”
Spike scrolls past the name.
“Roberto Verona”
Spike hesitates as he looks down at the name of the current nCw National Champion, but decides not to and scrolls one further.
“Seth Evans”
Spike smirks as he selects the Road to the Gold runner up, the protogé of Alex Jones. The grin spreads even further as he selects to send the message.
[Message Sent]
Spike chuckles to himself before closing his eyes and leaning backwards into the comfort of the chair. Clearly tired from staying here for a couple of days before slowly drifting off to sleep.
#~~#~~#
Friends.Always.Kill.Everything.
Alex, the easiest way to look at this is two people who have completely different outlooks on the same view, different perspectives if you will. Mine is of a man who has held a grudge for a long time with a person he believes to be a liar, to be a cunning bastards, to be fake...
And yours?
Well yours is just wrong.
You see you've come into this half cocked Alex, just like always. You've come in thinking it would be a nice simple, straight forward fight to make you look good. What you didn't plan on, is me taking this seriously and using this time to get you back for every single thing you have done to me, and for how you have treated me over our span as “friends”
You want to go to war, with me. Are you sure that is really what you want Alex? Because seriously, I don't do things half assed, half cocked like you. I come into things full bore, ready to rip and tear everything I can to pieces. I look at you Alex, and I see so much for me to destroy. Your ego alone could take me weeks to break down bit by bit until you want me to end it for you, out of sympathy I might even do it....but, on the other hand maybe I won't. Because I don't like you Alex, I haven't liked you for a hell of a long time and now I have the chance to get it all off of my chest.
To clear the air if you will.
Though I can't really do that through all of your deceitful lies, and your ego ridden comments. Yes Alex, this match is going to be big, it will be a “war” if you wish....but not for what you think. This isn't going to be two of the biggest names in nCw colliding to make an awesome match to try and steal that match of the year award. Hell it isn't even going to be the collision of two massive ego's, two ego's that nCw doesn't seem able to confine together.
This most definitely is not two friends going head to head.
This is a fight, out right destruction, and I'm not going to hold back. I'm not going to out-wrestle you AJ, even though I've proven in the past that I'm more than capable of doing that.....I'm not going to outshine you by hitting bigger and higher spots than you can....even though we both know that The God of Xtreme is ten times better than you. I'm just going to beat the living crap out of you, and enjoy myself whilst doing it.
You claim to know me, Alex.
You claim to know how my head works, and what state my mind is in. If this is even slightly true, you know I'm not making idle threats, you know I'm not trying to talk a big game. You know for a fact that I'm more than capable, and more than happy to go through with it. So where does that leave you?
Do you still want to be my bestest buddy, old pal?
Yeah...I wonder how long that charade will last, huh buddy? I mean you've played that card now, you gonna' pull a Bradley and change your mind? You going to stand there and play the f*cking hero still? I don't want to be your friend. I don't want you to try and stop me from “pissing on my legacy” by owning the crap out of people in the middle of that ring. This dark place you seem to think I'm going to...
I don't want you to save me.
What gives you the right to think you know more than me? That you know better than me? About myself, my career, my legacy. Where were you when Hexx stole the rights to my name HUH!? Where were you when I was forced to wrestle under the moniker of “Senor Xtremo”
Oh, Alex Jones was in the limelight back then wasn't he? So you didn't need me.
You're a pariah Alex. You're a locust, a leech....a motherf*cking parasite. You won't live off of me any more “old friend” because I'm not stupid. I'm not naïve. I won't let you ride off of my fame and fortune. Not for another second. So spend the next few days coming up with some new excuses Alex, some new clichés to spit out to try and hype yourself up. To try and make this out to be more than it is.
Is this a match to crown the next number one contender?
Some people would argue that maybe it should be. Of course a lot wouldn't, and a lot of them are people with ego's almost as big as yours. The likes of Jimmy Zane and Ricky Johnson seem to spring to mind. People who seem to look past the likes of me and you. They look past me because I've been there before. I've been to the top of the mountain and enjoyed a lengthy stay up their. But...you....you haven't have you Alex? They look past you because they know you've had enough chances. Seriously, though....thinking about it. How many chances have you had? How many oppurtinities to get a world title shot have you had?
I'm mean...I'm one in two. My record is fairly decent.
But let's not turn this into a pissing contest, yeah? I mean we both know who would win before it even began, so let's not bother embarrassing you. I'll save that for Sunday night when I'm pounding your face into the canvas. Speaking of which, you might want to spend some time with that b*tch of a wife whilst you still can Alex. She seems like the shallow type, and once I've beaten you to within an inch of death.....she won't recognise you. Not even your own mother will.
Prepare yourself Alex, because come Road to the Gold....when The Spiked One, The God of Xtreme, The Hall of Famer comes to kick your ass to oblivion...
You'll have yourself a near life experience.
Before it's snuffed out.
All F*cking Hail!
~~~
Friends.Always.Kill.Everything.
Alex, the easiest way to look at this is two people who have completely different outlooks on the same view, different perspectives if you will. Mine is of a man who has held a grudge for a long time with a person he believes to be a liar, to be a cunning bastards, to be fake...
And yours?
Well yours is just wrong.
You see you've come into this half cocked Alex, just like always. You've come in thinking it would be a nice simple, straight forward fight to make you look good. What you didn't plan on, is me taking this seriously and using this time to get you back for every single thing you have done to me, and for how you have treated me over our span as “friends”
You want to go to war, with me. Are you sure that is really what you want Alex? Because seriously, I don't do things half assed, half cocked like you. I come into things full bore, ready to rip and tear everything I can to pieces. I look at you Alex, and I see so much for me to destroy. Your ego alone could take me weeks to break down bit by bit until you want me to end it for you, out of sympathy I might even do it....but, on the other hand maybe I won't. Because I don't like you Alex, I haven't liked you for a hell of a long time and now I have the chance to get it all off of my chest.
To clear the air if you will.
Though I can't really do that through all of your deceitful lies, and your ego ridden comments. Yes Alex, this match is going to be big, it will be a “war” if you wish....but not for what you think. This isn't going to be two of the biggest names in nCw colliding to make an awesome match to try and steal that match of the year award. Hell it isn't even going to be the collision of two massive ego's, two ego's that nCw doesn't seem able to confine together.
This most definitely is not two friends going head to head.
This is a fight, out right destruction, and I'm not going to hold back. I'm not going to out-wrestle you AJ, even though I've proven in the past that I'm more than capable of doing that.....I'm not going to outshine you by hitting bigger and higher spots than you can....even though we both know that The God of Xtreme is ten times better than you. I'm just going to beat the living crap out of you, and enjoy myself whilst doing it.
You claim to know me, Alex.
You claim to know how my head works, and what state my mind is in. If this is even slightly true, you know I'm not making idle threats, you know I'm not trying to talk a big game. You know for a fact that I'm more than capable, and more than happy to go through with it. So where does that leave you?
Do you still want to be my bestest buddy, old pal?
Yeah...I wonder how long that charade will last, huh buddy? I mean you've played that card now, you gonna' pull a Bradley and change your mind? You going to stand there and play the f*cking hero still? I don't want to be your friend. I don't want you to try and stop me from “pissing on my legacy” by owning the crap out of people in the middle of that ring. This dark place you seem to think I'm going to...
I don't want you to save me.
What gives you the right to think you know more than me? That you know better than me? About myself, my career, my legacy. Where were you when Hexx stole the rights to my name HUH!? Where were you when I was forced to wrestle under the moniker of “Senor Xtremo”
Oh, Alex Jones was in the limelight back then wasn't he? So you didn't need me.
You're a pariah Alex. You're a locust, a leech....a motherf*cking parasite. You won't live off of me any more “old friend” because I'm not stupid. I'm not naïve. I won't let you ride off of my fame and fortune. Not for another second. So spend the next few days coming up with some new excuses Alex, some new clichés to spit out to try and hype yourself up. To try and make this out to be more than it is.
Is this a match to crown the next number one contender?
Some people would argue that maybe it should be. Of course a lot wouldn't, and a lot of them are people with ego's almost as big as yours. The likes of Jimmy Zane and Ricky Johnson seem to spring to mind. People who seem to look past the likes of me and you. They look past me because I've been there before. I've been to the top of the mountain and enjoyed a lengthy stay up their. But...you....you haven't have you Alex? They look past you because they know you've had enough chances. Seriously, though....thinking about it. How many chances have you had? How many oppurtinities to get a world title shot have you had?
I'm mean...I'm one in two. My record is fairly decent.
But let's not turn this into a pissing contest, yeah? I mean we both know who would win before it even began, so let's not bother embarrassing you. I'll save that for Sunday night when I'm pounding your face into the canvas. Speaking of which, you might want to spend some time with that b*tch of a wife whilst you still can Alex. She seems like the shallow type, and once I've beaten you to within an inch of death.....she won't recognise you. Not even your own mother will.
Prepare yourself Alex, because come Road to the Gold....when The Spiked One, The God of Xtreme, The Hall of Famer comes to kick your ass to oblivion...
You'll have yourself a near life experience.
Before it's snuffed out.
All F*cking Hail!
~~~
“I know it was you”[/color]
It's night time, and there really isn't much light here. We're in the streets of Boston, the dead of night. The only light we get is from a random street light as we're down a dark alley. The voice is Spike Kane, which we only know because we're so used to hearing it preach from his soap box. The figure he's talking to however is completely masked in darkness. Only the outline of the figure itself is visible.
'You know I was only trying to help you....'
“What is it with people all of a sudden wanting to help me?”
Spike is agitated, we can tell by his silhouette shuffling in the alley. He's either nervous, or he just really doesn't want to be talking to this person right now.
'I know, I know. You have to believe me though, I had good intentions. That Jones kid really doesn't. He's just a leech trying to feed off of your success.'
“Yeah I get that. Alex is king douche of the nozzels. He's always been a bit of a dick to me, but I'm glad you opened my eyes and made me see him for what he truly is.....but that's not what we're talking about.”
Nope it isn't at all. You can sense the hostility in Spike's voice, because I told you that you could, so just accept it jackass.
'Alysson'
“You had no right.”
'I apologise'
Spike hesitates before responding, clearly letting the apology soak in, and thinking about what to say next, almost diplomatic don't you know.
“So you should. I understand why you made it look like she left me, I totally get it, and I'm not really that mad because I understand. No distractions, no weaknesses. Just...”
'Don't do it again?'
“Exactly.”
'You've grown so much Michael-'
Spike raises his hand and slams it into the wall, we can't really see the hand itself, whether he punched it or just slammed his hand against it, but the message is clear.
“Don't. Just don't. You have no right or reason to call me that. This is a business relationship, and it's going to stay that way. You keep up your end of the bargain and I'll keep up mine.”
Spike shuffles backwards a little as if he's getting ready to leave.
'You got it. Just remember one thing....'
“I got it. F*cking kill him, right?”
'Right.'
Spike turns away from the figure in the dark and heads into the light towards the camera. As he steps into the light the camera focus on his facial expression, a bizarre mixture of grit, determination, and just down right evil rage. The scene fades on Spike's face.