Post by Hannah Reed on Oct 26, 2012 14:26:09 GMT -6
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As the daybreak filters through the windows, the soft lights giving the white walls and evanescent glow, Hannah meanders down the hallway, a baggy t-shirt draped across her nimble frame whilst a pair of fluffy socks hugs her feet gently. She softly hums a unrecognisable tune of pure joy, lost in her own mind as she reminisces over the reunion with her true love over and over. As she enters the kitchen her sister Jessica looks up and spots her delirious sister.
You seem to be a little more cheerful this morning.
Hannah suddenly snaps out of her own little world, stumbling to respond to her sister.
Oh…well, yeah a little bit.
Somebody got laid last night didn’t they?
Hannah looks down, trying her best to hide her face which glows red.
…..a little bit.
It was Roberto right? Or are you getting all of your **** ups out of the way in one go.
Hannah turns and quickly lands a firm punch into the shoulder of Jessica who immediately clutches the offending appendange.
Ouch!
Ask a stupid question.
Get punched? Somehow the response seems to be disproportionate to the crime.
I’m Hannah Reed, tough on crime, tougher on stupid siblings.
Just remember who the trained wrestler is.
Just remember who I’m sleeping with.
Touché. So, have you two kissed and made up now?
Hannah’s jubilation suddenly deflates as she is snapped back to reality, a frown rapidly forming across her face.
In a manner of speaking.
What does that mean?
He made it quite clear that he still doesn’t trust me, he’s just willing to give us a chance.
That’s a good thing though…. Right?
I guess.
You don’t sound too enthusiastic?
Hannah does her best to smile, even though it goes against her emotions.
No…it’s good, I am glad he is giving me a chance to make it up to him….it’s just, I wish it hadn’t come to this in the first place.
No offence sis, but you brought it on yourself.
I know, and I accept that. I guess it will just take time, but I wish there was something I could do right now to make amends, even if it was just a little bit.
Just make the most of the opportunity, you didn’t think you’d even get this far. The important thing is that he is willing to try, don’t get too hung up on how quickly it is going.
Yeah….you’re right.
I usually am.
And so modest too.
When you live with a Law School Graduate for the greater part of your adulthood you learn to take the little victories. Besides, I know how stubborn men operate, you forget that I didn’t fly the roost as quickly as you, if Dad could forgive me for maxing out his credit card on ring gear, DVDs and jello shots, I’m pretty sure Roberto can at least give you a reasonable chance at winning back his trust.
But Dad never forgave you?
Way to ruin an otherwise well-structured morale boost. Just don’t obsesses about it, suck it up and ride it out, if last night is anything to go by you’ve got that last part covered.
Once again Hannah’s clenched fist connects with her sister’s shoulder.
Ouch! Ok. Maybe I deserved that one.
You think? Thank you for the advice anyway.
You’re welcome, what are sisters for?
In your case? You don’t want me to answer that question.
Suddenly Jessica grabs her sister and locks her into a playful headlock as they begin to tussle back and forth as each emits a variety of squeals and screams, eventually ending up in the living room where Roberto sits quietly, sipping a coffee as his eyes follow the pair of women across the room until one of the siblings spots him, forcing them to break their hold and stand upright. After an awkward silence Verona fold up his newspaper and places it beside him.
We….I….erm, she started it!
Did not!
Did too.
Did no-….are you ok Roberto?
I just had a call from our boss.
Hannah suddenly stands completely to attention, the nerves in her body frayed as the panic begins to slowly set in, her heart beating anxiously.
…Kelly?
Unless there is something you’re not telling me.
What did she want?
She invited us to a celebration dinner.
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As the daybreak filters through the windows, the soft lights giving the white walls and evanescent glow, Hannah meanders down the hallway, a baggy t-shirt draped across her nimble frame whilst a pair of fluffy socks hugs her feet gently. She softly hums a unrecognisable tune of pure joy, lost in her own mind as she reminisces over the reunion with her true love over and over. As she enters the kitchen her sister Jessica looks up and spots her delirious sister.
You seem to be a little more cheerful this morning.
Hannah suddenly snaps out of her own little world, stumbling to respond to her sister.
Oh…well, yeah a little bit.
Somebody got laid last night didn’t they?
Hannah looks down, trying her best to hide her face which glows red.
…..a little bit.
It was Roberto right? Or are you getting all of your **** ups out of the way in one go.
Hannah turns and quickly lands a firm punch into the shoulder of Jessica who immediately clutches the offending appendange.
Ouch!
Ask a stupid question.
Get punched? Somehow the response seems to be disproportionate to the crime.
I’m Hannah Reed, tough on crime, tougher on stupid siblings.
Just remember who the trained wrestler is.
Just remember who I’m sleeping with.
Touché. So, have you two kissed and made up now?
Hannah’s jubilation suddenly deflates as she is snapped back to reality, a frown rapidly forming across her face.
In a manner of speaking.
What does that mean?
He made it quite clear that he still doesn’t trust me, he’s just willing to give us a chance.
That’s a good thing though…. Right?
I guess.
You don’t sound too enthusiastic?
Hannah does her best to smile, even though it goes against her emotions.
No…it’s good, I am glad he is giving me a chance to make it up to him….it’s just, I wish it hadn’t come to this in the first place.
No offence sis, but you brought it on yourself.
I know, and I accept that. I guess it will just take time, but I wish there was something I could do right now to make amends, even if it was just a little bit.
Just make the most of the opportunity, you didn’t think you’d even get this far. The important thing is that he is willing to try, don’t get too hung up on how quickly it is going.
Yeah….you’re right.
I usually am.
And so modest too.
When you live with a Law School Graduate for the greater part of your adulthood you learn to take the little victories. Besides, I know how stubborn men operate, you forget that I didn’t fly the roost as quickly as you, if Dad could forgive me for maxing out his credit card on ring gear, DVDs and jello shots, I’m pretty sure Roberto can at least give you a reasonable chance at winning back his trust.
But Dad never forgave you?
Way to ruin an otherwise well-structured morale boost. Just don’t obsesses about it, suck it up and ride it out, if last night is anything to go by you’ve got that last part covered.
Once again Hannah’s clenched fist connects with her sister’s shoulder.
Ouch! Ok. Maybe I deserved that one.
You think? Thank you for the advice anyway.
You’re welcome, what are sisters for?
In your case? You don’t want me to answer that question.
Suddenly Jessica grabs her sister and locks her into a playful headlock as they begin to tussle back and forth as each emits a variety of squeals and screams, eventually ending up in the living room where Roberto sits quietly, sipping a coffee as his eyes follow the pair of women across the room until one of the siblings spots him, forcing them to break their hold and stand upright. After an awkward silence Verona fold up his newspaper and places it beside him.
We….I….erm, she started it!
Did not!
Did too.
Did no-….are you ok Roberto?
I just had a call from our boss.
Hannah suddenly stands completely to attention, the nerves in her body frayed as the panic begins to slowly set in, her heart beating anxiously.
…Kelly?
Unless there is something you’re not telling me.
What did she want?
She invited us to a celebration dinner.
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A fluke.
A stroke of good luck, a chance occurrence, an accident.
That is how the majority of this company’s employees were eager to label your victory at Battlegrounds a month ago, practically falling over themselves to masticate your reign in a puerile attempt to undermine your credibility in favour of shrouding their jealousy with a fragile mask of righteous indignation at an undeserved accomplishment.
Suddenly, pinning Xander Famularo in a perfectly legitimate fashion without the need for skulduggery became a unacceptable method of gaining a championship, despite the better efforts of countless men for well over a year to achieve the same base achievement that was necessary for you to leave with the most prestigious prize in professional wrestling adorned around your waist.
Yet, I never bought into that fallacy, nor did I try to caress my own insecurities by spitting all conceivable slanders in your direction.
I know exactly what is takes to conquer the single most dominant man in this business for the better part of a year and a half and considering the repeated failed attempts by a catalogue of professional wrestlers who themselves have perfectly acceptable résumés, I am going to make an educated statement that might raise a few eyebrows.
You deserve to be NCW World Champion.
Whether he was a directionless puppet or not, Xander was the most talented World Champion this company has had in years and no matter how many people would like to line up to propose a hypothesis to how you managed to concoct the greatest swindle in history, the simple fact is that you are the only man to score a direct pinfall over him for a championship belt since his march to the top.
So, where am I going with this besides halfway up your lower intestines?
Well, that is quite simple Andrew. I’m not foolish enough to buy into the fantasy that you are merely a paper champion whose sole purpose is to keep that belt warm before a real champion comes along to claim it because I have some experiences in people declaring your career dead and buried prematurely.
Everybody expects me to walk into Buffalo as the triumphant champion of the Road to the Gold tournament and to, with some disproportionate level of ease, deprive you of that World title because they see you as nothing more than the guy who struck it lucky and to consider any other result is seemingly considered to be some form of madness.
Well, wrap me in a straight jacket and pump me full of valium because I don’t think that this is simply a done deal, nor do I see you as playing some bit part role in the grand coronation of a new King of New Championship Wrestling.
I’m not stupid.
That’s not to say that I have no faith in my own abilities, the fact is I’m acutely aware that I have every tool necessary to ruthlessly take you apart, piece by piece, I merely haven’t fooled myself into believing that you’re simply an afterthought who is utterly devoid of talent and my victory is all but won based on a ruthless run of victories in a tournament that breeds champions.
Everybody views my victory as some sort of perpetual inevitability, a divine relinquishing of the world title from an unworthy vessel, but I see this completely differently because I know what it is to be doubted by everyone.
I see a man who has proven everybody wrong, who stood up against what he felt was utterly wrong and against all the odds he triumphed to carve his own name into history where so many others have failed. If your name was Lex Sense or Mike Laszlo we’d be clamouring to worship you as the new messiah of this corporation, but because people have these tired out preconceptions of you based on a period of inadequacy well over a year ago they see what they want to see, an unworthy man who was just in the right place at the right time.
It’s just a shame that your hard fought title reign has to come an end so abruptly, for the sake of my career and the future of this corporation.
You were exactly the type of wrestler I fought so long and hard for, yet now you’re the man I must destroy to fulfil my own ambitions. Perhaps it’s a sad irony that I have doggedly chased a shot at a man I would have previously lauded as a beacon of hope in the fight against the dictatorship of the Fox family, but it is what it is. I have to destroy you this weekend to achieve the goal I have set myself.
I respect you as a competitor Andrew and that is why I’m looking forward to locking horns with you on the grandest stage of all because I realise this is a match between two fantastic athletes at the peak of their prowess. Whether the rest of this federation respects you is neither here nor there, because I do not take my supposed victory for granted.
I know I will have to beat you to a point where your body simply cannot continue because this isn’t just an ordinary match for you either; this is your chance to validate your reign to the world and to silence the critics. Whatever it takes to put you away, I will do it because that is what is necessary to fulfil my dreams. There is nothing I will not consider doing if it means that I can become the next NCW World Champion, even if it means I have to fight dirty against the real white knight of this federation, the man who the mask fits much better.
This will be a battle between two men dead set on being the best this company has to offer. We will have to break one another’s spirit to emerge from this contest as the winner because I know that deep down, just like me, you will not accept a defeat because you need to justify your reign just as much as I need to justify my hype.
Bring everything you have got Jacobsen, and I will bring my A-Game, and this weekend we will go to war and one of us will survive and I’m confident that man will be me. Those are the terms that this conflict was always going to be fought on, you know it and I know it. This isn’t personal, despite the differences we’ve had in the past.
I don’t underestimate you Andrew, not like everybody else.
But then I’ve never been like everybody else.
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The autumn breeze whips a patch of golden leaves around playfully in the air, twisting and turning them across the shoes of Roberto Verona and Hannah Reed before spiralling into the lush green lawn which surrounds the immaculate pathway that the pair are make their way along, briskly. Hannah is wearing a small black dress which compliments her assets whilst Verona sports one of his trademark Italian suits, a plaster placed delicately over the busted eyebrow he suffered at the foot of Adam Knite a few days earlier. As the pair gradually approaches a grandiose doorway painted a rich emerald, Verona turns to Hannah, shaking his head in disbelief.
I don’t know why I agreed to this, I should be training for my match this week.
I think it’s nice of her to do something like this for you.
Something’s not right, how many women throw a party for the man who just kick their husband in the face?
I don’t know, but I told you she isn’t as bad as you think.
She’s probably poisoned the wine.
Hannah grabs the sides of her dress and adjusts it until her body fits the small black ensemble perfectly, carefully rubbing out any mischievous creases and patting away any marks.
Oh grow up. How do I look?
Your breasts look magnificent, I didn’t realise this was a swinger’s party.
Hannah stretches her finger out and presses the doorbell before having one last do over of her hair.
Be nice.
If I die, I’m blaming you.
Hannah scowls at Verona before rapidly changing her facial expression to a beaming smile as the door opens, Kelly Fox standing in the breach dressed in her own small, yet sophisticated, dress. She stretches her arms out and exchanges polite kisses with Hannah as Roberto looks on awkwardly.
Hannah, I’m so pleased to see you.
Kelly releases her grip on Hannah and looks at Verona.
Roberto.
If you want a kiss, go and ask your husband.
Charming as ever. Please, come in, you can leave your sarcasm in the cloak room.
Kelly leads the pair into the hallway of her large home, photos of her upbringing under her father Leonard Fox charting his rise from a lowly businessman to a wrestling guru and the successes it brought to her life and his. Verona scoffs as the bawdy decadence, taking one last look around before drawing his attention right back to Kelly.
A room just for cloaks huh? Nice to see where all my hard earned money goes.
It’s a cloak room Roberto, not a gold encrusted swimming pool.
Kelly turns and smiles devilishly.
That’s out back.
Where do you keep the broken dreams of your employees and the blood of 66 virgins?
In my bedside table. Are we going to keep doing this all evening?
I don’t know, that depends. Are you going to tell me what this is all really about or are we just going to pretend the past year never happened?
Like I told you on the phone, I want to congratulate you on your recent accomplishments and Hannah on her new job. Am I not allowed to do something nice for my “high calibre employees”?
Sure, if it was anybody else but me.
Oh come on, I was only playing. I thought you liked my games?
How about we play Russian Roulette and cross our fingers and pray you do the world a favour.
But who would face Andrew this weekend then?
Verona prepares to respond, but Hannah quickly butts into the conversation, diverting it away from the increasingly aggressive tone.
What a wonderful home you have Kelly.
Thank you, Hannah. Finally, somebody with a sense of common decency and politeness, you could learn a lot from this young lady Roberto.
Verona mutters under his breath.
I already learnt a lot about her this week…
Kelly leads them both through a final set of doors into a well-lit dining room adorned will the finest silver, though Verona’s gaze his quickly drawn to the figure standing at the opposite end. Adam Knite scowls menacingly back at the Italian, his lip swollen from the match also. Kelly quickly breaks the silence.
Adam, our guests have arrived. I think you all know each other, please make yourselves comfortable.
Kelly walks around to join her husband at one side of the table, wrapping an arm around his lower back whilst he wraps one around her shoulders. Hannah pulls out a chair and sits down as Roberto does the same, albeit at a much slower and more hesitant pace as he remains on guard.
So you got roped into this charade too Adam?
Not all of us are incapable of enjoying your loved ones company.
I only love 50% of this room, so forgive me for not being 100% enthused about this.
You managed to weasel you’re way into a title match this week, I’m sure you’re capable of surviving an evening with me and my wife.
I don’t usually spend my evening swimming with sharks moonlighting as dolphins.
Just as the tension almost reaches boiling point Hannah jumps up out of her seat and with one swift hand movement she produces a bottle of wine from a small bag she carried in with her hand bag.
Wine, who wants wine!?
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The autumn breeze whips a patch of golden leaves around playfully in the air, twisting and turning them across the shoes of Roberto Verona and Hannah Reed before spiralling into the lush green lawn which surrounds the immaculate pathway that the pair are make their way along, briskly. Hannah is wearing a small black dress which compliments her assets whilst Verona sports one of his trademark Italian suits, a plaster placed delicately over the busted eyebrow he suffered at the foot of Adam Knite a few days earlier. As the pair gradually approaches a grandiose doorway painted a rich emerald, Verona turns to Hannah, shaking his head in disbelief.
I don’t know why I agreed to this, I should be training for my match this week.
I think it’s nice of her to do something like this for you.
Something’s not right, how many women throw a party for the man who just kick their husband in the face?
I don’t know, but I told you she isn’t as bad as you think.
She’s probably poisoned the wine.
Hannah grabs the sides of her dress and adjusts it until her body fits the small black ensemble perfectly, carefully rubbing out any mischievous creases and patting away any marks.
Oh grow up. How do I look?
Your breasts look magnificent, I didn’t realise this was a swinger’s party.
Hannah stretches her finger out and presses the doorbell before having one last do over of her hair.
Be nice.
If I die, I’m blaming you.
Hannah scowls at Verona before rapidly changing her facial expression to a beaming smile as the door opens, Kelly Fox standing in the breach dressed in her own small, yet sophisticated, dress. She stretches her arms out and exchanges polite kisses with Hannah as Roberto looks on awkwardly.
Hannah, I’m so pleased to see you.
Kelly releases her grip on Hannah and looks at Verona.
Roberto.
If you want a kiss, go and ask your husband.
Charming as ever. Please, come in, you can leave your sarcasm in the cloak room.
Kelly leads the pair into the hallway of her large home, photos of her upbringing under her father Leonard Fox charting his rise from a lowly businessman to a wrestling guru and the successes it brought to her life and his. Verona scoffs as the bawdy decadence, taking one last look around before drawing his attention right back to Kelly.
A room just for cloaks huh? Nice to see where all my hard earned money goes.
It’s a cloak room Roberto, not a gold encrusted swimming pool.
Kelly turns and smiles devilishly.
That’s out back.
Where do you keep the broken dreams of your employees and the blood of 66 virgins?
In my bedside table. Are we going to keep doing this all evening?
I don’t know, that depends. Are you going to tell me what this is all really about or are we just going to pretend the past year never happened?
Like I told you on the phone, I want to congratulate you on your recent accomplishments and Hannah on her new job. Am I not allowed to do something nice for my “high calibre employees”?
Sure, if it was anybody else but me.
Oh come on, I was only playing. I thought you liked my games?
How about we play Russian Roulette and cross our fingers and pray you do the world a favour.
But who would face Andrew this weekend then?
Verona prepares to respond, but Hannah quickly butts into the conversation, diverting it away from the increasingly aggressive tone.
What a wonderful home you have Kelly.
Thank you, Hannah. Finally, somebody with a sense of common decency and politeness, you could learn a lot from this young lady Roberto.
Verona mutters under his breath.
I already learnt a lot about her this week…
Kelly leads them both through a final set of doors into a well-lit dining room adorned will the finest silver, though Verona’s gaze his quickly drawn to the figure standing at the opposite end. Adam Knite scowls menacingly back at the Italian, his lip swollen from the match also. Kelly quickly breaks the silence.
Adam, our guests have arrived. I think you all know each other, please make yourselves comfortable.
Kelly walks around to join her husband at one side of the table, wrapping an arm around his lower back whilst he wraps one around her shoulders. Hannah pulls out a chair and sits down as Roberto does the same, albeit at a much slower and more hesitant pace as he remains on guard.
So you got roped into this charade too Adam?
Not all of us are incapable of enjoying your loved ones company.
I only love 50% of this room, so forgive me for not being 100% enthused about this.
You managed to weasel you’re way into a title match this week, I’m sure you’re capable of surviving an evening with me and my wife.
I don’t usually spend my evening swimming with sharks moonlighting as dolphins.
Just as the tension almost reaches boiling point Hannah jumps up out of her seat and with one swift hand movement she produces a bottle of wine from a small bag she carried in with her hand bag.
Wine, who wants wine!?
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Nighthawk. Mike Laszlo. Lex Sense.
Adam Knite.
Four steps on a five step course to total rehabilitation and perpetual glory, one that I must complete this Sunday to fulfil my dreams and to usher in the dawn of a new icon in professional wrestling. I proclaimed that I would win the Road to the Gold tournament last month at Battlegrounds to line up at the Road to the Gold opposite whoever was the NCW World Champion and I fulfilled that promise.
I won a tournament that has bred champions, both past and present.
Only this is just half the deal, the final step is this Sunday for the biggest prize in professional wrestling.
I didn’t want to win that tournament to merely be a bit part player on a grander stage for a second time in my career, I won so that I could gain the chance to succeed where I previously failed. I was the afterthought when I fought Ricky Johnson and perhaps it was a blessing that my battle with the man whose first thought upon capturing the gold was which was the noisiest exit is mostly forgettable but I have no intention of being the bridesmaid for a second time.
Not with so much at stake.
Winning the Road to the Gold was the enabling factor that grants me an opportunity to face you this weekend, Andrew, I simply had no other option but to emerge victorious from that war to get what I have yearned for since I entered this company. Kelly Fox would have never sanctioned another opportunity for me to save this company from consuming itself, because no matter how smart she may think she is, her grudges blind her from reality.
Now the real test begins.
Can I succeed where I previously failed and capture the NCW World Championship?
Can I wrench that belt from the hands of a man determined to prove himself worthy of the accolade of being a World champion?
Am I really the icon I always promised to be?
I’ve no doubt in my mind that the answer to each of those questions is a resounding yes because to play host to doubt is to be defeated before a blow is struck. I believed wholeheartedly that I could beat fifteen over men to earn my chance at immortality and despite all of the mountains I had to surmount I emerged victorious, just as I ‘d promised.
Now I’ve regained that x-factor which always separated me from rest of the roster and I utilised it to full effect to force the hand of the CEO and to ride my way into a second World title match and a chance of redemption.
When I put my mind to it I’ve shown the world that there isn’t a single obstacle I can’t overcome, I proved it when I faced Xander, I proved it when I became a two time champion so early in my career and last week I proved that not even the King of NCW could stop me from booking my date with destiny this Sunday.
A void has opened at the top of this federation, one which Xander sought to fill on a long term basis but one he failed to occupy in the end. A new icon needs to step up and dominate this company like the legends of old, somebody has to grab that brass ring and pull this entire corporation to height it has never enjoyed and to usher in a new era of prosperity for everybody, whilst cementing their own legacy at the same time.
I’ve been saying for weeks that I’m the only man capable of this task, and I stand by that declaration as I am the one who has continued to prove it by ploughing through a field of my colleagues to book a place in the biggest match of the year at the pay per view that started it all.
Nobody else has the determination, the complete ruthlessness or the boundless charisma I possess. There is no other man who can put asses on seats or force the buy rates the sky rocket like me. I am the only real option and no matter how many of you would disagree, deep down you know that I have proven on a repeated basis that this isn’t just my ego talking.
It is the cold hard facts.
People needn’t like me, hell they don’t even need to respect me, but they have to accept that unless somebody grabs this company by the scruff of the neck and rides it out of the doldrums it finds itself in then their future will continue to remain uncertain, which I suppose may suit some of the opportunists amongst us.
Somebody needs to create a new era where new stars can be born and you cannot trust the same old faces to offer anything new, however well-meaning some of them may be.
This weekend I must succeed. There is too much at stake for me to fail at this final juncture and simply put, my need to win this weekend is equal to, if not greater then, the need I had to win the Road to the Gold to get to this point.
Defeat simply isn’t an option for me, no matter how capable you may be of inflicting that eventuality upon me in defence of your hard won prize. To lose is to disappear back into the oblivion from whence I came, where I must dwell until the Riot draws near in 2013 and I enter another lottery where the odds are stacked against me.
I can’t allow that to happen.
I have to beat you, just like you have to beat me to solidify your reputation that is tarnished at every turn. Our stocks have never been higher and the stakes also, ultimately one of us will fail and I have every intention to ensuring that it is you who is devoured by the wolves. Not because of some personal grievance or bitter jealousy of your accomplishments, but because I simply have to save this company from itself.
I will be the icon Adam demanded I become, because it is the standard I have set myself. This championship means everything to me and no matter what it takes, no matter how much abuse my body has to handle, I simply must become the next NCW World Champion.
Last week I took the crown.
This week, I take the castle.
