Post by Xavier Cross on Oct 26, 2012 3:11:00 GMT -6
“He said what?!”
“Oh calm down.”
“No, I will punch that idiot right in the face.”
“You’re in Madrid right now, shut up.”
“Xavier! You kick his ass! That’s not even okay.”
“Look, he’s all talk baby…don’t worry about it.”
We see Xavier Cross laying down, a laptop next to him, we see Natalie Tyson in the Skype Video chat window, wearing a scarf and ridiculous hat. There is a slight pause, before she speaks again.
“…I’m not a replacement am I?”
Xavier sits up, looking at her a bit confused.
“Look. Plain and Simple, the only time I’ll ever say this, ever again. Cari was my first real love, she was my wife, she was the mother of my children. She’s gone. She was taken from the world, and there is literally nothing I can do about it. It took me a long time to get over her, but if people expect me to sit here all alone for the rest of my life, then they have some ridiculous ideas of happiness. If the roles were reversed, I would want Cari to move on. It’s hard to be alone, especially with three kids. You’re my sunshine Natalie, I love you.”
“…I guess I sort of like you too…”
“And you’re a jerk…”
“Speaking of which! I got your costumes ordered! I kind of took it upon myself to really…treat the kids, and you. They should be arriving tomorrow.”
“How…the hell did you find a Gib costume…”
“JimmyZaneProductions.Com…”
“WHAT!?!”
“Well, they had a bunch of awkward adult ones, and night vision closet goggles…Okay I’m kidding, it’s not really that hard, back in the 90’s they were a big hit, and I just happened to find one on e-bay.”
“Landon is going to be so excited! I just hope this doesn’t lead to alcoholism.”
“Hehe, alright sweetie, I have to get back to work. I love you, and I can’t wait to see you!”
“I miss you so much…I love you too sweetie. Good morning.”
They both blow kisses at each other, as Xavier slowly closes the laptop, laying back looking at the ceiling.
“I guess maybe it’s because it’s for the National Title, because it’s the Ace again. But the memory hasn’t felt this fresh in a while…”
Cross rubs his chest for a moment, his eyes transfixed on the ceiling.
“I got this in the bag…”
******
“Oh calm down.”
“No, I will punch that idiot right in the face.”
“You’re in Madrid right now, shut up.”
“Xavier! You kick his ass! That’s not even okay.”
“Look, he’s all talk baby…don’t worry about it.”
We see Xavier Cross laying down, a laptop next to him, we see Natalie Tyson in the Skype Video chat window, wearing a scarf and ridiculous hat. There is a slight pause, before she speaks again.
“…I’m not a replacement am I?”
Xavier sits up, looking at her a bit confused.
“Look. Plain and Simple, the only time I’ll ever say this, ever again. Cari was my first real love, she was my wife, she was the mother of my children. She’s gone. She was taken from the world, and there is literally nothing I can do about it. It took me a long time to get over her, but if people expect me to sit here all alone for the rest of my life, then they have some ridiculous ideas of happiness. If the roles were reversed, I would want Cari to move on. It’s hard to be alone, especially with three kids. You’re my sunshine Natalie, I love you.”
“…I guess I sort of like you too…”
“And you’re a jerk…”
“Speaking of which! I got your costumes ordered! I kind of took it upon myself to really…treat the kids, and you. They should be arriving tomorrow.”
“How…the hell did you find a Gib costume…”
“JimmyZaneProductions.Com…”
“WHAT!?!”
“Well, they had a bunch of awkward adult ones, and night vision closet goggles…Okay I’m kidding, it’s not really that hard, back in the 90’s they were a big hit, and I just happened to find one on e-bay.”
“Landon is going to be so excited! I just hope this doesn’t lead to alcoholism.”
“Hehe, alright sweetie, I have to get back to work. I love you, and I can’t wait to see you!”
“I miss you so much…I love you too sweetie. Good morning.”
They both blow kisses at each other, as Xavier slowly closes the laptop, laying back looking at the ceiling.
“I guess maybe it’s because it’s for the National Title, because it’s the Ace again. But the memory hasn’t felt this fresh in a while…”
Cross rubs his chest for a moment, his eyes transfixed on the ceiling.
“I got this in the bag…”
******
Let’s say we won’t talk about this…
But then…immediately talk about it?
Or end our statement with it…
Better yet, be a complete waste of space.
I’m sorry, that was my Ace impression. I got a few tricks up my sleeve, and this keen ability to reenact mediocre talent is, probably my best one. Check it out.
My name is Ace Conway, Pet Detective. Want to talk to my fanny, or my run of the mill wife Kathy, I mean seriously, look at that woman’s face. You know when he eventually is able to get it up, the lights have to be off. Gross.
I’m tired of playing excuses, and fighting for everyone else. I am the Savior of nCw Ace, but I look at you and I see nothing worth saving. Nothing. In fact I find myself bored as put things together, trying to find the right words to say just to hit that nerve, try to make you angry, distract you. But let me be completely, and perfectly clear. I don’t care about you. I don’t respect you, and I do not fear you. If there ever was a situation I’ve ever been more confident about, it’s facing you at Road to the Gold. I took this title from you many years ago, an emotional victory, a scene that many people will highlight as the defining moment of my career. For some people it’s a world title victory, for others it’s the upset victory over a unbeaten rival. For me, many people see it as the night I pushed through the most emotionally devastating moment of my life. But I don’t see it that way, not anymore.
Losing Cari, it’s a pain I’ll never understand fully, and I’ve accepted that. Losing a match, a title, or even my career will never amount to that hole in my heart that I felt watching the heart monitor making that never-ending flat line, I still hear it in my nightmares, or the feeling of nurses hands on my shoulders, forcing me out of the room.
No one quite understands that pain, nor do I wish that anyone ever will have to experience it. But Ace, I look at this pay-per view Sunday, and I see one thing, just another victory. If this was 2010, your name would carry more water, now your bucket is full of holes and mediocrity. This isn’t your A-game, this isn’t even a grade D. I look at you, and I see a pathetic excuse for a ‘wrestler’. The same old lines, the same old responses. So ladies and gentlemen, let me save you the time of listening to ‘The Ace’s Next Promo’
Ahem.
“Cross, you don’t know a damn thing about me. My wife is beautiful, your wife is dead! Your girlfriend is a hooker. Your kids have Down syndrome, and I’m the best. But we won’t talk about it. I am the best, your girlfriend is a prostitute, your wife is deceased, you still don’t know anything about me, and your kids are missing a chromosome.”
Summarized, but fairly accurate, fairly simple, just like the man I’m facing. The Ace has always been a simple fighter, saying the same phrases, I feel like he reherses them, or just types into google, a word and its synonyms. Then once he finds the longest word, he figures out how to say it. Big words aren’t going to save you bub, this ain’t scrabble, and I’ll slit your throat.
There is not test when it comes to fighting the Ace, when it comes to this guy, the only thing you have to fight is boredom, and trying not to fall asleep. Remember back in school, the substitute teacher for your Chemistry Class, who shows you a lame video on this and that, and you have to fight to keep your head up and your eyes open, or listen to Ben Stein read the bible, that droll, boring, monotone, same old, same old. That’s what he is, that’s what he’ll always been.
But please, strike my nerves, insult my choices. That’s fine bub, because I have done what I’ve done, because happiness is what life is about. Replacing my wife with Natalie, going back to the road, back to my home, back to my brothers in arms. You hear that nCw, I should have just became a house-husband and walked away. Sat at home while you all go out and put on a show, while you do what we love to do. So let me set your misguided little notions to a more, correct light Ace, you moron.
I will, never. Ever. EVVVER.
Replace Cari with anyone, losing her was a tragedy, it took everything I had to not walk away. But I was a wrestler before I met her, she wouldn’t let me give it up, you think she’d want me to walk away? You think she’d want me to give it all up. Throwing her initials on my wrist tape, it isn’t a way of remembering; those memories will stay in my heart until the day I die. Those initials are to show the world, that no matter what happens, no matter how bad life knocks you down you get back up, and you swing a little harder. Kathy may have married a quitter, but Cari knew that I wouldn’t lay down, not for long.
How dare you call these fans leeches. There must have been a time between getting those long, overly touched hugs from Daddy that you sat down and watched a wrestling match, or two. How many of us that give our blood, sweat, and tears week in and week out, grew up idolizing someone. Heck, I know as a kid, I was into basketball and wrestling, you know what posters I had on my wall. Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Gib, and Hulk Hogan, kids look up to us, grown men and women look to us for entertainment. To call them leeches, I should beat you down just for that alone. Some of these people work paycheck to paycheck trying to support their families. Road to the Gold goes to Buffalo this year, and I couldn’t sit here, and tell you the statistics of what the common wage in this area, but I know these people paid good money to watch us. Well, maybe not you, but nCw. So I will take pictures, sign autographs, and shakes hands. Because these fans remind me of myself, remind me of my kids, and remind me of why we do this. Not only to be the best, but to put on the greatest sports spectacle on this planet. I’ll have to remind you why.
At this point, you’ve now officially irked me. You talk, and talk, and talk Ace, it seems that’s all you’re good for. I kind of want to punch you in the throat to try to make you go mute at this point. I find everything about you despicable, pathetic, and simply winey. You talk about fate, and roads, and all that other crap. But the fact is, you couldn’t cut it to get to the finals, going against me is your consolation prize for taking Sense out. Whatever. Take your roads, embrace your fate. Because if you’re too stupid, or just lazy enough to leave it to fate, fine. Xavier Cross doesn’t sit around and wait for opportunities to fall into his lap, Xavier Cross makes opportunities, he works for them, he prepares for them, and he trains for them. Maybe the road your taking is too easy, too simple, maybe I need to show you what it takes to be the nCw National Champion, because I know for damn sure you’re not ever taking this belt off my waist.
But I’ll give you a standing ovation for trying.
But then…immediately talk about it?
Or end our statement with it…
Better yet, be a complete waste of space.
I’m sorry, that was my Ace impression. I got a few tricks up my sleeve, and this keen ability to reenact mediocre talent is, probably my best one. Check it out.
My name is Ace Conway, Pet Detective. Want to talk to my fanny, or my run of the mill wife Kathy, I mean seriously, look at that woman’s face. You know when he eventually is able to get it up, the lights have to be off. Gross.
I’m tired of playing excuses, and fighting for everyone else. I am the Savior of nCw Ace, but I look at you and I see nothing worth saving. Nothing. In fact I find myself bored as put things together, trying to find the right words to say just to hit that nerve, try to make you angry, distract you. But let me be completely, and perfectly clear. I don’t care about you. I don’t respect you, and I do not fear you. If there ever was a situation I’ve ever been more confident about, it’s facing you at Road to the Gold. I took this title from you many years ago, an emotional victory, a scene that many people will highlight as the defining moment of my career. For some people it’s a world title victory, for others it’s the upset victory over a unbeaten rival. For me, many people see it as the night I pushed through the most emotionally devastating moment of my life. But I don’t see it that way, not anymore.
Losing Cari, it’s a pain I’ll never understand fully, and I’ve accepted that. Losing a match, a title, or even my career will never amount to that hole in my heart that I felt watching the heart monitor making that never-ending flat line, I still hear it in my nightmares, or the feeling of nurses hands on my shoulders, forcing me out of the room.
No one quite understands that pain, nor do I wish that anyone ever will have to experience it. But Ace, I look at this pay-per view Sunday, and I see one thing, just another victory. If this was 2010, your name would carry more water, now your bucket is full of holes and mediocrity. This isn’t your A-game, this isn’t even a grade D. I look at you, and I see a pathetic excuse for a ‘wrestler’. The same old lines, the same old responses. So ladies and gentlemen, let me save you the time of listening to ‘The Ace’s Next Promo’
Ahem.
“Cross, you don’t know a damn thing about me. My wife is beautiful, your wife is dead! Your girlfriend is a hooker. Your kids have Down syndrome, and I’m the best. But we won’t talk about it. I am the best, your girlfriend is a prostitute, your wife is deceased, you still don’t know anything about me, and your kids are missing a chromosome.”
Summarized, but fairly accurate, fairly simple, just like the man I’m facing. The Ace has always been a simple fighter, saying the same phrases, I feel like he reherses them, or just types into google, a word and its synonyms. Then once he finds the longest word, he figures out how to say it. Big words aren’t going to save you bub, this ain’t scrabble, and I’ll slit your throat.
There is not test when it comes to fighting the Ace, when it comes to this guy, the only thing you have to fight is boredom, and trying not to fall asleep. Remember back in school, the substitute teacher for your Chemistry Class, who shows you a lame video on this and that, and you have to fight to keep your head up and your eyes open, or listen to Ben Stein read the bible, that droll, boring, monotone, same old, same old. That’s what he is, that’s what he’ll always been.
But please, strike my nerves, insult my choices. That’s fine bub, because I have done what I’ve done, because happiness is what life is about. Replacing my wife with Natalie, going back to the road, back to my home, back to my brothers in arms. You hear that nCw, I should have just became a house-husband and walked away. Sat at home while you all go out and put on a show, while you do what we love to do. So let me set your misguided little notions to a more, correct light Ace, you moron.
I will, never. Ever. EVVVER.
Replace Cari with anyone, losing her was a tragedy, it took everything I had to not walk away. But I was a wrestler before I met her, she wouldn’t let me give it up, you think she’d want me to walk away? You think she’d want me to give it all up. Throwing her initials on my wrist tape, it isn’t a way of remembering; those memories will stay in my heart until the day I die. Those initials are to show the world, that no matter what happens, no matter how bad life knocks you down you get back up, and you swing a little harder. Kathy may have married a quitter, but Cari knew that I wouldn’t lay down, not for long.
How dare you call these fans leeches. There must have been a time between getting those long, overly touched hugs from Daddy that you sat down and watched a wrestling match, or two. How many of us that give our blood, sweat, and tears week in and week out, grew up idolizing someone. Heck, I know as a kid, I was into basketball and wrestling, you know what posters I had on my wall. Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Gib, and Hulk Hogan, kids look up to us, grown men and women look to us for entertainment. To call them leeches, I should beat you down just for that alone. Some of these people work paycheck to paycheck trying to support their families. Road to the Gold goes to Buffalo this year, and I couldn’t sit here, and tell you the statistics of what the common wage in this area, but I know these people paid good money to watch us. Well, maybe not you, but nCw. So I will take pictures, sign autographs, and shakes hands. Because these fans remind me of myself, remind me of my kids, and remind me of why we do this. Not only to be the best, but to put on the greatest sports spectacle on this planet. I’ll have to remind you why.
At this point, you’ve now officially irked me. You talk, and talk, and talk Ace, it seems that’s all you’re good for. I kind of want to punch you in the throat to try to make you go mute at this point. I find everything about you despicable, pathetic, and simply winey. You talk about fate, and roads, and all that other crap. But the fact is, you couldn’t cut it to get to the finals, going against me is your consolation prize for taking Sense out. Whatever. Take your roads, embrace your fate. Because if you’re too stupid, or just lazy enough to leave it to fate, fine. Xavier Cross doesn’t sit around and wait for opportunities to fall into his lap, Xavier Cross makes opportunities, he works for them, he prepares for them, and he trains for them. Maybe the road your taking is too easy, too simple, maybe I need to show you what it takes to be the nCw National Champion, because I know for damn sure you’re not ever taking this belt off my waist.
But I’ll give you a standing ovation for trying.