Post by Deleted on Sept 19, 2012 15:27:34 GMT -6
Set your DVR’s, because I will only say this once.
Joseph Everyman is right.
I’m not happy. Every single week I have to stand here in front of this camera and pretend that everything is alright and that no matter what I will always bounce back and continue along the upward trajectory I have become so familiar with since the day I walked into this federation.
But it is a lie.
I still have nightmares about June 17th, the lights staring down at me as I lay flat out on my back in a position unfamiliar to me. For the first time in my career, I failed. I’ve lost matches before but never have they so emphatically sent me crashing out of contention than the one I suffered that night against Ricky Johnson.
I’ve not been the same since he pinned me to the mat, for every defeat in my past I always knew that there was an opportunity to turn it around into a success. When Xander tore away my X-Championship, I knew another title would be in my immediate future. When he beat me again with the help of his family I knew that the fight wasn’t over and I took away his streak. When I lost the Riot, I knew my outstanding performance had earned me enough attention to escalate my standing in this business.
Yet, when Ricky defeated me, there was nothing.
No second chance.
No rematch.
My moment was stolen from me. Everything I worked so hard for was torn away in three small seconds, all the victories, the titles and the matches etched into this company’s history were suddenly erased with one small mistake.
No matter how hard I try, I have been unable to reverse my fortunes since that day. I have slowly fallen into the role of the stepping stone for the younger breed of hot prospects like Mike Laszlo. I have become the same stereotype I exploited for over a year, making other people’s name for them rather than my own.
I’ve watched all of my dreams burn before my eyes. My mission, my glory and my pride. I thought I was doing the right thing by fighting for justice in a lawless land, yet now I see that my faith was being abused by those I martyred myself for. I was convinced that I would be the man to ruin Ricky Jonhson’s retirement party, yet I was overshadowed by a jezebel who feigned innocence whilst revelling in sin. I was sure that I was good enough to be a member of the elite, but with one defeat I was cast adrift into the water with sharks, my blood exciting their senses.
Now I am a wandering leper, cast out by my friends, looked upon with pity as my career spirals out of control and I am consigned to the history books as a disappointment.
I’m not happy.
But I am not finished.
Not yet by a long shot.
I’ve heard what you had to say about me Alex, in the usual pomp and ceremony tinged with arrogance as you always make your opinions known.
Normally I’d be eager to correct you, but do you know what?
I’m tired.
I am tired of the listening to you bitch and moan about what you deserve. I am tired of having to watch you run down mine and other’s names in a futile attempt to make yourself look important. I am tired of hearing you demand things without doing a single thing to earn it.
You’re right. I choked at Reborn.
For all the hype behind me I failed to live up to it, I don’t hide from that fact. Yet one thing everybody seems quite eager to forget is that I earned my shot at Ricky Johnson. I didn’t stamp my feet like a child and run off a list of semi-impressive victories, I put down the most dominant superstar in recent history.
What have you done to earn the glory you so arrogantly demand?
Nothing.
You’ve not won any competitions. You’ve not become number one contender. You’ve not managed to defeat anybody of any relevance.
Yet for weeks all I have heard is you complain that you are overlooked, ignored, abused….
Let’s cut the bull**** and call it how it is Alex, the reason you and I are opening Battlegrounds this weekend isn’t because we’re oppressed employees, it’s because we don’t deserve anything better. Kelly may have had me dance in circles for her own amusement for months, but the fact is if I really deserved to be in the main event competing for Xander’s belt, I would be. The same applies to you, if you had truly earned yourself a world title match you’d get one.
Sure, we may have to fight harder and surmount more obstacles than somebody who gets on their knee’s and puckers up, but whether you care to admit it or not the reason we are opening the show is because neither of us have done a damn thing to force Kelly’s hand.
You’ve shouted your mouth off and got bitch slapped by the biggest dog in the yard right back into obscurity, I’ve trundled along purposeless and become a pin cushion for rising talent.
We’ve been dealt this hand, not out of pure bad luck or malignant intent, but because it is no more than we really deserve.
Yet there is still hope for us both.
She springs eternal just over the horizon and she comes hand in hand with opportunity. Regardless of whether Xander or Andrew walk out of the Wargames as champion, we all have a chance to change our fortunes and reverse the downward trend we find ourselves in.
The Road to the Gold is our opportunity to earn the glory we crave.
No matter how hard Kelly, Adam or any of the other power starved oligarchs cackle around the spoils of our sacrifice they can do nothing to prevent the winner of this tournament progressing to face the champion for his belt. It doesn’t matter if our roads are bumpier than others; success in this series of matches guarantees what we are both so desperate for.
A World Championship match.
So stop demanding what you think you deserve and start focusing on earning it instead. You may not care that it would make me respect you more, but you should care that this is your chance to force Kelly’s hand.
You can be the bitter old vet who bemoans all the alleged injustices perpetrated against him or you can be the determined superstar who made damn well sure he got everything he truly deserves.
It’s time to make a decision Alex.
Congratulations Kelly, you’ve got exactly what you wanted.
I am a worthless footnote in the history of your glorious legacy.
Ever since you decided to go dark side you’ve been praying that I fail and try as I might, I’ve been completely unable to avoid sliding down into oblivion and last week I finally booked myself a ticket straight to limbo.
Mike Laszlo earned his victory over me, make no mistake about it, I am man enough to put my hands up and admit I was beaten by a better man on the night. Whilst losing to him is no embarrassment it does put the rubber stamp on my total fall from grace.
Three months ago it was me beating the established “stars” of the federation, now I am the one propelling other’s to greater heights.
This crusade you embarked upon to see me fall has proven successful.
Thus far.
What I said to Alex rings true for myself also, in a week’s times the Road to the Gold starts and there is only one man standing in my way.
Me.
I can either keep handicapping myself by playing up to a façade to please the baying audiences who want to see me use big words to make people look like idiots whilst knowing full well that I am not the same potent force I was a few months ago or I can push out the melancholy and fulfil my promises.
I guaranteed to you that I would be World Champion regardless of anything you threw in my way.
I stand by that promise.
I’ve gotten lazy, perhaps because I have convinced myself that it is immaterial what I do every week as you will supress me regardless and it’s led me down a road I am unfamiliar of. Instead of proving myself to be the best wrestler in this company of a weekly basis I have become sloppy, losing matches I would have won this time last year and tarnishing my own legacy without your help.
I said I wasn’t happy, and I meant it. I will not be happy until I am standing in the middle of your ring with your World Title hoisted aloft above my head as the camera’s record the moment for eternity. I will not be happy until I recapture the same spark I had only weeks ago and I can strut around these corridors because I know I am better than those who whisper behind my back.
I won’t be happy until I make you suffer, as I have suffered, since you tossed me aside like a rag.
You can throw any challenge you like in my path Kelly, but I have my eyes set on winning the Road to the Gold and forcing you to give me a chance at redemption.
I will not settle for second place, the only target I have in my mind is to show the world that I truly am the next star in professional wrestling and that all the bravado was not empty chatter to make me feel better but the God’s honest truth.
I’ve become accustomed to failure in the past two months, but I owe it to myself to prove that all the hype was justified and that I am more than deserving of all the success I dreamed about since I entered the squared circle.
Keep your eyes on your Wargames this weekend Kelly, but keep one eye on your back you have a bullseye on it which will be breached eventually and if I have any spirit left in my body, it is going to be me that drives that knife home.
It’s time to claim what I want.
Joseph Everyman is right.
I’m not happy. Every single week I have to stand here in front of this camera and pretend that everything is alright and that no matter what I will always bounce back and continue along the upward trajectory I have become so familiar with since the day I walked into this federation.
But it is a lie.
I still have nightmares about June 17th, the lights staring down at me as I lay flat out on my back in a position unfamiliar to me. For the first time in my career, I failed. I’ve lost matches before but never have they so emphatically sent me crashing out of contention than the one I suffered that night against Ricky Johnson.
I’ve not been the same since he pinned me to the mat, for every defeat in my past I always knew that there was an opportunity to turn it around into a success. When Xander tore away my X-Championship, I knew another title would be in my immediate future. When he beat me again with the help of his family I knew that the fight wasn’t over and I took away his streak. When I lost the Riot, I knew my outstanding performance had earned me enough attention to escalate my standing in this business.
Yet, when Ricky defeated me, there was nothing.
No second chance.
No rematch.
My moment was stolen from me. Everything I worked so hard for was torn away in three small seconds, all the victories, the titles and the matches etched into this company’s history were suddenly erased with one small mistake.
No matter how hard I try, I have been unable to reverse my fortunes since that day. I have slowly fallen into the role of the stepping stone for the younger breed of hot prospects like Mike Laszlo. I have become the same stereotype I exploited for over a year, making other people’s name for them rather than my own.
I’ve watched all of my dreams burn before my eyes. My mission, my glory and my pride. I thought I was doing the right thing by fighting for justice in a lawless land, yet now I see that my faith was being abused by those I martyred myself for. I was convinced that I would be the man to ruin Ricky Jonhson’s retirement party, yet I was overshadowed by a jezebel who feigned innocence whilst revelling in sin. I was sure that I was good enough to be a member of the elite, but with one defeat I was cast adrift into the water with sharks, my blood exciting their senses.
Now I am a wandering leper, cast out by my friends, looked upon with pity as my career spirals out of control and I am consigned to the history books as a disappointment.
I’m not happy.
But I am not finished.
Not yet by a long shot.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I told you, he isn’t good enough for you!
He spits, stamping his hand down with authority as the veins on his head begin to bulge and his skin turns red with rage.
You don’t even know him, how dare you think you can boss me around. I’m not a teenager anymore.
Then stop acting like one.
You’re one to talk, you’re nothing but a bully and you’ll never really care about how I feel.
You have no idea how I feel.
Well, the feeling’s mutual.
If you step out of that door, don’t you ever come back.
He yells, the anger filled words echoing around the entire building.
So now you’re going to threaten me? Really good parenting Dad, congratulations, you’ve painted yourself in glory yet again.
Don’t speak to me like that, after everything I have done for yo-
Stop it! Just, shut the hell up. Everything you’ve done for me? All you do is boss me around, like I am your own personal pet project that you can mould to be exactly what you want. Well sorry for being such a disappointment, but I will never apologise for loving somebody who doesn’t spend every waking second thinking of a new way to control me.
Harold, stop….
She begs, trying to make him see reason.
No! She thinks she can just shack up with whoever she feels like and if I object it is because I am trying to control her. I am doing what’s best for you, he is going to drag you into a life of misery and what will you get in return?
Love. Maybe you think that isn’t enough anymore, but one time you told me that as long as a person loves you, nothing else matters. Well, Roberto loves me and that is all that matters to me. If I have to go through trauma with him, then I’ll do it gladly because no matter what, we will both love one another.
One day, you’ll see that I’m not the bad guy.
And one day you’ll see, neither is he.
Hannah stands there for a moment, tears forming in her eyes before turning and leaving the room, slamming the door behind her. An unnerving silence descends upon the old couple who sit motionless together as they listen to the sound of a car engine springing to life and the sprinkle of gravel flying across the yard from the retreating tyres which propel the vehicle, and their daughter, away from them for the final time.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I told you, he isn’t good enough for you!
He spits, stamping his hand down with authority as the veins on his head begin to bulge and his skin turns red with rage.
You don’t even know him, how dare you think you can boss me around. I’m not a teenager anymore.
Then stop acting like one.
You’re one to talk, you’re nothing but a bully and you’ll never really care about how I feel.
You have no idea how I feel.
Well, the feeling’s mutual.
If you step out of that door, don’t you ever come back.
He yells, the anger filled words echoing around the entire building.
So now you’re going to threaten me? Really good parenting Dad, congratulations, you’ve painted yourself in glory yet again.
Don’t speak to me like that, after everything I have done for yo-
Stop it! Just, shut the hell up. Everything you’ve done for me? All you do is boss me around, like I am your own personal pet project that you can mould to be exactly what you want. Well sorry for being such a disappointment, but I will never apologise for loving somebody who doesn’t spend every waking second thinking of a new way to control me.
Harold, stop….
She begs, trying to make him see reason.
No! She thinks she can just shack up with whoever she feels like and if I object it is because I am trying to control her. I am doing what’s best for you, he is going to drag you into a life of misery and what will you get in return?
Love. Maybe you think that isn’t enough anymore, but one time you told me that as long as a person loves you, nothing else matters. Well, Roberto loves me and that is all that matters to me. If I have to go through trauma with him, then I’ll do it gladly because no matter what, we will both love one another.
One day, you’ll see that I’m not the bad guy.
And one day you’ll see, neither is he.
Hannah stands there for a moment, tears forming in her eyes before turning and leaving the room, slamming the door behind her. An unnerving silence descends upon the old couple who sit motionless together as they listen to the sound of a car engine springing to life and the sprinkle of gravel flying across the yard from the retreating tyres which propel the vehicle, and their daughter, away from them for the final time.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I’ve heard what you had to say about me Alex, in the usual pomp and ceremony tinged with arrogance as you always make your opinions known.
Normally I’d be eager to correct you, but do you know what?
I’m tired.
I am tired of the listening to you bitch and moan about what you deserve. I am tired of having to watch you run down mine and other’s names in a futile attempt to make yourself look important. I am tired of hearing you demand things without doing a single thing to earn it.
You’re right. I choked at Reborn.
For all the hype behind me I failed to live up to it, I don’t hide from that fact. Yet one thing everybody seems quite eager to forget is that I earned my shot at Ricky Johnson. I didn’t stamp my feet like a child and run off a list of semi-impressive victories, I put down the most dominant superstar in recent history.
What have you done to earn the glory you so arrogantly demand?
Nothing.
You’ve not won any competitions. You’ve not become number one contender. You’ve not managed to defeat anybody of any relevance.
Yet for weeks all I have heard is you complain that you are overlooked, ignored, abused….
Let’s cut the bull**** and call it how it is Alex, the reason you and I are opening Battlegrounds this weekend isn’t because we’re oppressed employees, it’s because we don’t deserve anything better. Kelly may have had me dance in circles for her own amusement for months, but the fact is if I really deserved to be in the main event competing for Xander’s belt, I would be. The same applies to you, if you had truly earned yourself a world title match you’d get one.
Sure, we may have to fight harder and surmount more obstacles than somebody who gets on their knee’s and puckers up, but whether you care to admit it or not the reason we are opening the show is because neither of us have done a damn thing to force Kelly’s hand.
You’ve shouted your mouth off and got bitch slapped by the biggest dog in the yard right back into obscurity, I’ve trundled along purposeless and become a pin cushion for rising talent.
We’ve been dealt this hand, not out of pure bad luck or malignant intent, but because it is no more than we really deserve.
Yet there is still hope for us both.
She springs eternal just over the horizon and she comes hand in hand with opportunity. Regardless of whether Xander or Andrew walk out of the Wargames as champion, we all have a chance to change our fortunes and reverse the downward trend we find ourselves in.
The Road to the Gold is our opportunity to earn the glory we crave.
No matter how hard Kelly, Adam or any of the other power starved oligarchs cackle around the spoils of our sacrifice they can do nothing to prevent the winner of this tournament progressing to face the champion for his belt. It doesn’t matter if our roads are bumpier than others; success in this series of matches guarantees what we are both so desperate for.
A World Championship match.
So stop demanding what you think you deserve and start focusing on earning it instead. You may not care that it would make me respect you more, but you should care that this is your chance to force Kelly’s hand.
You can be the bitter old vet who bemoans all the alleged injustices perpetrated against him or you can be the determined superstar who made damn well sure he got everything he truly deserves.
It’s time to make a decision Alex.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunday September 16th 2012
*** damn it!
Verona punches a nearby locker, leaving a dent in the frame as his knuckles begin to bleed.
Calm down…
Calm down? How can I calm down? I’m rapidly becoming the biggest laughing stock in this entire federation.
And shouting about it won’t do anything, will it?
Maybe not, but it beats sitting down and moping about it.
I know you’re disappointed Roberto, but you can’t keep dwelling on these defeats, it isn’t healthy.
It’s not tonight Hannah, Laszlo deserved to win. It’s Reborn, I can’t get it out my head. Every defeat just brings it rushing back, everything I do to try and erase my failure just reiterates it.
Roberto slumps against the broken locker, sliding down before clutching his head in his hands.
Everything used to be so much simpler, even if I was kidding myself that these people were worth the pain.
Hannah lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. Before she can speak, however, they are interrupted by the sound of a ringtone.
Hello?
Suddenly, she stops dead in her tracks.
What do you wa-…..
Hannah turns white, the blood seemingly rushing from her face as tears begin to form in her eyes.
I…..I’ll be there as soon as I can….goodbye….
What’s wrong?
I….I can’t be here right now Roberto, I’m sorry. I…
Hannah grabs her handbag abruptly and rushes out of the locker room with tears flowing down her face, almost knocking Gib off his feet as he tries to enter the room. As Verona clutches his head, the blood from his knuckles pouring down his arm the pair share an awkward silence, the older Famularo scratching his head. Then, he speaks.
…..is she pregnant?
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunday September 16th 2012
*** damn it!
Verona punches a nearby locker, leaving a dent in the frame as his knuckles begin to bleed.
Calm down…
Calm down? How can I calm down? I’m rapidly becoming the biggest laughing stock in this entire federation.
And shouting about it won’t do anything, will it?
Maybe not, but it beats sitting down and moping about it.
I know you’re disappointed Roberto, but you can’t keep dwelling on these defeats, it isn’t healthy.
It’s not tonight Hannah, Laszlo deserved to win. It’s Reborn, I can’t get it out my head. Every defeat just brings it rushing back, everything I do to try and erase my failure just reiterates it.
Roberto slumps against the broken locker, sliding down before clutching his head in his hands.
Everything used to be so much simpler, even if I was kidding myself that these people were worth the pain.
Hannah lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. Before she can speak, however, they are interrupted by the sound of a ringtone.
Hello?
Suddenly, she stops dead in her tracks.
What do you wa-…..
Hannah turns white, the blood seemingly rushing from her face as tears begin to form in her eyes.
I…..I’ll be there as soon as I can….goodbye….
What’s wrong?
I….I can’t be here right now Roberto, I’m sorry. I…
Hannah grabs her handbag abruptly and rushes out of the locker room with tears flowing down her face, almost knocking Gib off his feet as he tries to enter the room. As Verona clutches his head, the blood from his knuckles pouring down his arm the pair share an awkward silence, the older Famularo scratching his head. Then, he speaks.
…..is she pregnant?
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Congratulations Kelly, you’ve got exactly what you wanted.
I am a worthless footnote in the history of your glorious legacy.
Ever since you decided to go dark side you’ve been praying that I fail and try as I might, I’ve been completely unable to avoid sliding down into oblivion and last week I finally booked myself a ticket straight to limbo.
Mike Laszlo earned his victory over me, make no mistake about it, I am man enough to put my hands up and admit I was beaten by a better man on the night. Whilst losing to him is no embarrassment it does put the rubber stamp on my total fall from grace.
Three months ago it was me beating the established “stars” of the federation, now I am the one propelling other’s to greater heights.
This crusade you embarked upon to see me fall has proven successful.
Thus far.
What I said to Alex rings true for myself also, in a week’s times the Road to the Gold starts and there is only one man standing in my way.
Me.
I can either keep handicapping myself by playing up to a façade to please the baying audiences who want to see me use big words to make people look like idiots whilst knowing full well that I am not the same potent force I was a few months ago or I can push out the melancholy and fulfil my promises.
I guaranteed to you that I would be World Champion regardless of anything you threw in my way.
I stand by that promise.
I’ve gotten lazy, perhaps because I have convinced myself that it is immaterial what I do every week as you will supress me regardless and it’s led me down a road I am unfamiliar of. Instead of proving myself to be the best wrestler in this company of a weekly basis I have become sloppy, losing matches I would have won this time last year and tarnishing my own legacy without your help.
I said I wasn’t happy, and I meant it. I will not be happy until I am standing in the middle of your ring with your World Title hoisted aloft above my head as the camera’s record the moment for eternity. I will not be happy until I recapture the same spark I had only weeks ago and I can strut around these corridors because I know I am better than those who whisper behind my back.
I won’t be happy until I make you suffer, as I have suffered, since you tossed me aside like a rag.
You can throw any challenge you like in my path Kelly, but I have my eyes set on winning the Road to the Gold and forcing you to give me a chance at redemption.
I will not settle for second place, the only target I have in my mind is to show the world that I truly am the next star in professional wrestling and that all the bravado was not empty chatter to make me feel better but the God’s honest truth.
I’ve become accustomed to failure in the past two months, but I owe it to myself to prove that all the hype was justified and that I am more than deserving of all the success I dreamed about since I entered the squared circle.
Keep your eyes on your Wargames this weekend Kelly, but keep one eye on your back you have a bullseye on it which will be breached eventually and if I have any spirit left in my body, it is going to be me that drives that knife home.
It’s time to claim what I want.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
This feels wrong on so many levels.
Tell me about it.
Of all the people, in the entire world, I never thought I’d be doing…..this, with you.
Gib cocks an eyebrow as he turns his head slightly towards Verona, then he lifts a bottle of beer to his lips before sipping a generous portion.
Me neither, Super Mario.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
This feels wrong on so many levels.
Tell me about it.
Of all the people, in the entire world, I never thought I’d be doing…..this, with you.
Gib cocks an eyebrow as he turns his head slightly towards Verona, then he lifts a bottle of beer to his lips before sipping a generous portion.
Me neither, Super Mario.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
