Post by Nathan Webb on Nov 29, 2012 1:35:38 GMT -6
Sunday, November 25th, 2012
Collision
After the Match with Roberto Verona
I didn’t remember everything that happened…but If there was something that I remembered with a high level of clarity it was the pain I felt on that night.
I remembered every blow I took with that lead pipe on each limb of my body.
I remembered being tossed around the back stage and the entrance area like I was nothing more than Adam’s rag doll.
I remembered the salty taste of my own blood as it flowed from my forehead, and down my cheek and finally into my mouth.
I remember feeling helpless as I was thrown into the ring and not being able to do anything as my “match” with Roberto Verona took place leaving me getting pinned and then of course my world turned black.
I awoke to find myself laying on that training table. I don’t remember getting there but apparently with the help of the trainers and the referees I had made it back there with help but still somewhat under my own power. My head was killing me, and my body for sure was aching. I couldn’t move my own arm, I was in so much pain and I could only imagine the bruises on my body and the scar that was now forming under the stitches in my face.
I wasn’t all together mentally but I could hear the definitive sounds of someone weeping.
“Rose?” I called out knowing those sounds were coming from her.
“Mr. Nate!!!” She replied breaking the sobs, hearing my voice…apparently for the first time in long while. “I was so scared Mr. Nate, after what Mr. A did to you…I thought you were a goner…”
I snickered a bit hearing this, pulling Rose closer to me. “Believe me sis, it’s going to take a lot more to put my ass out of commission.”
Rose wiped her eyes, trying to put on her strong face for me. “I know, I just couldn’t believe what Mr. A did to you…and BEFORE one of your biggest matches ever….and I couldn’t do anything to help you.”
“Was that why you were crying…because you couldn’t do anything to help me?”
Rose nodded. “It was a horrible feeling…and I couldn’t do anything to stop it”
I shook my head as I sat up, grunting in pain as I did so. I sat up looking at Rose right next to me, her tears causing her make up to run. I patted her head as I let a slight smile come over my face as I shook my own head. “No, Rose there was nothing you could do…”
“But, Mr. Nate…?”
“It was a man with a pipe…you would only be a martyr in this whole thing, and frankly this company doesn’t need a martyr…”
“I should have at least seen him coming.” Rose exclaimed trying to figure out why I wasn’t so upset with her.
“You and me both sis…” I said before pausing and looking into the eyes of Rose who was trying to dry her face with the back of her hand. “But you know what…Adam is going to get what is coming to him…”
Tonight should have been my time to shine, and should have given me momentum toward my match with Adam. Unfortunately Adam ruined that for me…but Adam what didn’t give me in momentum, he sure as hell gave me motivation in spades…I didn’t want a silver lining…but I think my hand was forced this time around.
{The scene is set up like most other Cold Cuts. The video is in black and white with a grainy quality. The video is being shot in an empty warehouse but this time around Nathan has some props with him. Nathan is sitting in a leather desk chair with his feet propped on an exquisite wooden desk. In Nathan’s hand an expensive cigar already lit and right next to his feet…a glass of wine. Nathan is sitting there looking at the camera before taking a drag of his cigar and blowing a long stream of smoke into the air. Nathan then ashes his cigar on the floor next to him before finally looking into the camera and speaking.}
Greetings ladies and gentlemen who are watching me know who are watching me now due to the magic of any internet connected device. I sit here now trying to get into the mind of my opponent…in a match that was set up two weeks ago…a man who is among those that head up New Championship Wrestling. The man that goes by the name of Adam Knite.
So here I sit in an expensive leather chair, behind an expensive mahogany desk smoking an expensive Dominican Cigar, and of course {Picking up his glass and then putting it down} drinking an overpriced glass of fermented grape juice. I am putting myself into the mindset of Adam Knite…acting like he acts thus thinking like the man in order to prepare.
But wait {Nathan taps his chin with his finger} this person I am trying to put myself in the mind of…act like…and in turn be like is not really Adam Knite…no Adam Knite is no longer that male figure head of the company like he used to. No, that spot now is being occupied by Roberto Verona. Adam now is a distant memory when it comes to the board room. In fact I think Mr. Knite’s role now consists of wearing a pair of kneepads under someone’s desk…tickling the fancy of who may desire it at that time, whether it be Roberto’s or Kelly’s.
{Nathan takes a couple of quick puffs of his cigar and exhales the smoke into the air before continuing on, allowing what he said to really sink in.}
So how does it feel Adam? Really. How does it feel?
How does it feel to be a major figure head of this company, where your word was almost the gospel only to be now emasculated by your wife?
How does it feel that your wife is only your wife because of the ring she wears? Her name is not even Knite anymore since she decided to return to using Fox?
How does it feel to know now that your own wife is probably eying the new male figurehead in Roberto Verona…who by all indications is more man than you will ever be?
How does it feel to be once proud major champion, only to have it taken away by Xavier Cross?
How does it feel to be a proud man, only to have your head shaved by Trent Helms of all people?
How does it feel to know that you are facing the guy and gal who were supposed to be a forgotten memory, come back, kick you in the balls and make a name off of you?
Be Honest Mr. Knite, resident dick sucker of New Championship Wrestling…how do you really feel?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
San Diego, California
Residence of Organized Chaos
Adam’s picture was taped on to a heavy bag that was put up in a make shift gym outside my house. I circled the bag spinning it in whichever direction I was traveling. I stepped around and landed a quick jab. I stepped to the opposite direction and landed another quick jab. I followed this pattern, landing quick jab after quick jab to the picture I had taped up.
Suddenly seeing Adam’s face just blankly stare back at me after every jab I made in his face snapped something inside me. It was something fierce and the next thing I knew I was attacking the bag like I was a cornered animal. I was striking it with ever type and combination I knew. Punches, forearms, elbows, knees and a bevy of kicks were all landed in a less than organized fashion. I didn’t even notice that in the process that the picture of Adam had been knocked off…either way I could visualize Adam standing there…still that target I was trying to hit and still giving me a blank stare every time I “hit” him.
Suddenly, whether it was out of exhaustion, or the realization that trying to hurt this “Adam” was a futile effort, I collapsed to my knees. With the adrenaline lost, the pain settled in. It wasn’t a pain from the soreness of my muscles after such exertion. It was the pain I felt from the wounds of Sunday night. I could feel the bruises start to swell with the sweat rolling down my skin. The gash in my head stung even more and the feelings of not wanting to wait for Sunday night to finally get my hands on Adam Knite were more prevalent than ever. I just didn’t want this match anymore, I needed this match.
I may have been in pain at that moment…but if I wanted to achieve anything on my journey I had to put it past me and bring my best even it I was at my worst.
{The Cold Cuts returns to Nathan lighting another cigar. The cigar lit, Nathan takes a couple of puffs to get it really going putting down his lighter at the same time. Nathan then leans of the desk and looks directly into the camera before speaking again.}
Before I get back into the crux of what I was talking about earlier let me address a couple of things that many people, including myself, have on their minds.
First, and this is the easiest one, is what I have to say about Roberto Verona. If he thinks this is last time that we meet in that ring as opponents, then he is dead wrong. I guarantee I will be seeing his self-righteous and elitist ass sooner rather than later…and believe me barring any interruptions I will be the one taking you down from the self-made pedestal of yours.
With that said let me transition into a second issue and one that you made abundantly clear with your attack on me is the one where you have a belief that by my actions, and more importantly the ideas I stand for I have stuck my nose into something I have no right and of course no business sticking my nose into.
I on the other hand beg to differ. Like I have always said a leader…which you Kelly and Roberto are not, look out for the benefit of the company and NOT for the simple benefit of themselves. You honestly think that you haven’t put yourself above others then let me illustrate. First and foremost you did marry the boss’ daughter…and I am sure you NEVER used that to get ahead. Then of course the stuff you pulled this past January…you putting a hit on me when I actually spoke out in favor of your wife…when she wasn’t a total witch. Then Kelly of course taking her admonishing of Zelda to a new level and of course when Simon spoke up she decided he needed to quashed like a bug…and did you bother speaking up for either of them?....Didn’t think so.
Oh and of course Mike Lazlo who after receiving news that he was the handpicked number one contender by our “savior” Roberto Verona was ceremoniously mugged by Roberto…oh and of course you were somewhat mute for this all…but you certainly had no problem pitching a bitch fit when the shoe was on the other foot…I was surprised you weren’t singing soprano after Rose kicked you in the balls.
So yes…seeing what I saw on the outside, you’re damn straight it was my business…seeing what I had fought for…being flushed down the toilet…and frankly if I was going to help institute change I was going to have to get my hands dirty. So if your upset with me sticking my craw in yours, Kelly’s, and Roberto’s self- righteous indignation then the only person YOU ALL can blame is you and you alone.
{Nathan takes a puff of his cigar, exhaling the smoke before continuing on.}
Now as far as you and I are concerned, I guess I can’t blame you for doing what you did. You did what was in your own best interest…but let it be known…you didn’t deter nobody, including me with what you pulled. You only added fuel to an already lit fire and frankly Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
If there is one thing that you should thankful for is that this match with be contested under normal rules. Believe me it is the best thing for you to come out in one piece. While there may be peace it doesn’t prevent you from getting hurt. It doesn’t prevent me from taking out the aggression I wanted to take out on Roberto on you. It doesn’t keep me from unleashing this bottle of anger that is being building this whole week when it does come uncorked on Sunday. I may not be able to use weapons on you but I guarantee I will use every available means I can find within the confines of the rules to ensure you are not able to walk out Breaking Away under your own power. I was not able to have Roberto’s blood on my hands…but I will as sure as hell have yours.
{Nathan takes a final drag of his cigar before tossing it aside on the concrete floor.}
Adam you have had nearly everything taken away from you these past three months. You lost your title, and then you lost your hair, and then you lost any real authority you have had to Roberto Verona, and on Sunday I will be the one taking the last shred of your dignity that you may have had intact. You may call me an unhinged psychopath, you may call me a low life hell bent on one last hoorah, or you may call me someone who continuously butts into your business without a need or rational reason. I totally understand and that is of course your own opinion…but let me ask this Adam…When was the last time your opinion mattered for anything? Really Adam…cause I can’t seem to remember one?
{With that the scene fades to black signaling the end of the scene.}
Collision
After the Match with Roberto Verona
I didn’t remember everything that happened…but If there was something that I remembered with a high level of clarity it was the pain I felt on that night.
I remembered every blow I took with that lead pipe on each limb of my body.
I remembered being tossed around the back stage and the entrance area like I was nothing more than Adam’s rag doll.
I remembered the salty taste of my own blood as it flowed from my forehead, and down my cheek and finally into my mouth.
I remember feeling helpless as I was thrown into the ring and not being able to do anything as my “match” with Roberto Verona took place leaving me getting pinned and then of course my world turned black.
I awoke to find myself laying on that training table. I don’t remember getting there but apparently with the help of the trainers and the referees I had made it back there with help but still somewhat under my own power. My head was killing me, and my body for sure was aching. I couldn’t move my own arm, I was in so much pain and I could only imagine the bruises on my body and the scar that was now forming under the stitches in my face.
I wasn’t all together mentally but I could hear the definitive sounds of someone weeping.
“Rose?” I called out knowing those sounds were coming from her.
“Mr. Nate!!!” She replied breaking the sobs, hearing my voice…apparently for the first time in long while. “I was so scared Mr. Nate, after what Mr. A did to you…I thought you were a goner…”
I snickered a bit hearing this, pulling Rose closer to me. “Believe me sis, it’s going to take a lot more to put my ass out of commission.”
Rose wiped her eyes, trying to put on her strong face for me. “I know, I just couldn’t believe what Mr. A did to you…and BEFORE one of your biggest matches ever….and I couldn’t do anything to help you.”
“Was that why you were crying…because you couldn’t do anything to help me?”
Rose nodded. “It was a horrible feeling…and I couldn’t do anything to stop it”
I shook my head as I sat up, grunting in pain as I did so. I sat up looking at Rose right next to me, her tears causing her make up to run. I patted her head as I let a slight smile come over my face as I shook my own head. “No, Rose there was nothing you could do…”
“But, Mr. Nate…?”
“It was a man with a pipe…you would only be a martyr in this whole thing, and frankly this company doesn’t need a martyr…”
“I should have at least seen him coming.” Rose exclaimed trying to figure out why I wasn’t so upset with her.
“You and me both sis…” I said before pausing and looking into the eyes of Rose who was trying to dry her face with the back of her hand. “But you know what…Adam is going to get what is coming to him…”
Tonight should have been my time to shine, and should have given me momentum toward my match with Adam. Unfortunately Adam ruined that for me…but Adam what didn’t give me in momentum, he sure as hell gave me motivation in spades…I didn’t want a silver lining…but I think my hand was forced this time around.
{The scene is set up like most other Cold Cuts. The video is in black and white with a grainy quality. The video is being shot in an empty warehouse but this time around Nathan has some props with him. Nathan is sitting in a leather desk chair with his feet propped on an exquisite wooden desk. In Nathan’s hand an expensive cigar already lit and right next to his feet…a glass of wine. Nathan is sitting there looking at the camera before taking a drag of his cigar and blowing a long stream of smoke into the air. Nathan then ashes his cigar on the floor next to him before finally looking into the camera and speaking.}
Greetings ladies and gentlemen who are watching me know who are watching me now due to the magic of any internet connected device. I sit here now trying to get into the mind of my opponent…in a match that was set up two weeks ago…a man who is among those that head up New Championship Wrestling. The man that goes by the name of Adam Knite.
So here I sit in an expensive leather chair, behind an expensive mahogany desk smoking an expensive Dominican Cigar, and of course {Picking up his glass and then putting it down} drinking an overpriced glass of fermented grape juice. I am putting myself into the mindset of Adam Knite…acting like he acts thus thinking like the man in order to prepare.
But wait {Nathan taps his chin with his finger} this person I am trying to put myself in the mind of…act like…and in turn be like is not really Adam Knite…no Adam Knite is no longer that male figure head of the company like he used to. No, that spot now is being occupied by Roberto Verona. Adam now is a distant memory when it comes to the board room. In fact I think Mr. Knite’s role now consists of wearing a pair of kneepads under someone’s desk…tickling the fancy of who may desire it at that time, whether it be Roberto’s or Kelly’s.
{Nathan takes a couple of quick puffs of his cigar and exhales the smoke into the air before continuing on, allowing what he said to really sink in.}
So how does it feel Adam? Really. How does it feel?
How does it feel to be a major figure head of this company, where your word was almost the gospel only to be now emasculated by your wife?
How does it feel that your wife is only your wife because of the ring she wears? Her name is not even Knite anymore since she decided to return to using Fox?
How does it feel to know now that your own wife is probably eying the new male figurehead in Roberto Verona…who by all indications is more man than you will ever be?
How does it feel to be once proud major champion, only to have it taken away by Xavier Cross?
How does it feel to be a proud man, only to have your head shaved by Trent Helms of all people?
How does it feel to know that you are facing the guy and gal who were supposed to be a forgotten memory, come back, kick you in the balls and make a name off of you?
Be Honest Mr. Knite, resident dick sucker of New Championship Wrestling…how do you really feel?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
San Diego, California
Residence of Organized Chaos
Adam’s picture was taped on to a heavy bag that was put up in a make shift gym outside my house. I circled the bag spinning it in whichever direction I was traveling. I stepped around and landed a quick jab. I stepped to the opposite direction and landed another quick jab. I followed this pattern, landing quick jab after quick jab to the picture I had taped up.
Suddenly seeing Adam’s face just blankly stare back at me after every jab I made in his face snapped something inside me. It was something fierce and the next thing I knew I was attacking the bag like I was a cornered animal. I was striking it with ever type and combination I knew. Punches, forearms, elbows, knees and a bevy of kicks were all landed in a less than organized fashion. I didn’t even notice that in the process that the picture of Adam had been knocked off…either way I could visualize Adam standing there…still that target I was trying to hit and still giving me a blank stare every time I “hit” him.
Suddenly, whether it was out of exhaustion, or the realization that trying to hurt this “Adam” was a futile effort, I collapsed to my knees. With the adrenaline lost, the pain settled in. It wasn’t a pain from the soreness of my muscles after such exertion. It was the pain I felt from the wounds of Sunday night. I could feel the bruises start to swell with the sweat rolling down my skin. The gash in my head stung even more and the feelings of not wanting to wait for Sunday night to finally get my hands on Adam Knite were more prevalent than ever. I just didn’t want this match anymore, I needed this match.
I may have been in pain at that moment…but if I wanted to achieve anything on my journey I had to put it past me and bring my best even it I was at my worst.
{The Cold Cuts returns to Nathan lighting another cigar. The cigar lit, Nathan takes a couple of puffs to get it really going putting down his lighter at the same time. Nathan then leans of the desk and looks directly into the camera before speaking again.}
Before I get back into the crux of what I was talking about earlier let me address a couple of things that many people, including myself, have on their minds.
First, and this is the easiest one, is what I have to say about Roberto Verona. If he thinks this is last time that we meet in that ring as opponents, then he is dead wrong. I guarantee I will be seeing his self-righteous and elitist ass sooner rather than later…and believe me barring any interruptions I will be the one taking you down from the self-made pedestal of yours.
With that said let me transition into a second issue and one that you made abundantly clear with your attack on me is the one where you have a belief that by my actions, and more importantly the ideas I stand for I have stuck my nose into something I have no right and of course no business sticking my nose into.
I on the other hand beg to differ. Like I have always said a leader…which you Kelly and Roberto are not, look out for the benefit of the company and NOT for the simple benefit of themselves. You honestly think that you haven’t put yourself above others then let me illustrate. First and foremost you did marry the boss’ daughter…and I am sure you NEVER used that to get ahead. Then of course the stuff you pulled this past January…you putting a hit on me when I actually spoke out in favor of your wife…when she wasn’t a total witch. Then Kelly of course taking her admonishing of Zelda to a new level and of course when Simon spoke up she decided he needed to quashed like a bug…and did you bother speaking up for either of them?....Didn’t think so.
Oh and of course Mike Lazlo who after receiving news that he was the handpicked number one contender by our “savior” Roberto Verona was ceremoniously mugged by Roberto…oh and of course you were somewhat mute for this all…but you certainly had no problem pitching a bitch fit when the shoe was on the other foot…I was surprised you weren’t singing soprano after Rose kicked you in the balls.
So yes…seeing what I saw on the outside, you’re damn straight it was my business…seeing what I had fought for…being flushed down the toilet…and frankly if I was going to help institute change I was going to have to get my hands dirty. So if your upset with me sticking my craw in yours, Kelly’s, and Roberto’s self- righteous indignation then the only person YOU ALL can blame is you and you alone.
{Nathan takes a puff of his cigar, exhaling the smoke before continuing on.}
Now as far as you and I are concerned, I guess I can’t blame you for doing what you did. You did what was in your own best interest…but let it be known…you didn’t deter nobody, including me with what you pulled. You only added fuel to an already lit fire and frankly Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
If there is one thing that you should thankful for is that this match with be contested under normal rules. Believe me it is the best thing for you to come out in one piece. While there may be peace it doesn’t prevent you from getting hurt. It doesn’t prevent me from taking out the aggression I wanted to take out on Roberto on you. It doesn’t keep me from unleashing this bottle of anger that is being building this whole week when it does come uncorked on Sunday. I may not be able to use weapons on you but I guarantee I will use every available means I can find within the confines of the rules to ensure you are not able to walk out Breaking Away under your own power. I was not able to have Roberto’s blood on my hands…but I will as sure as hell have yours.
{Nathan takes a final drag of his cigar before tossing it aside on the concrete floor.}
Adam you have had nearly everything taken away from you these past three months. You lost your title, and then you lost your hair, and then you lost any real authority you have had to Roberto Verona, and on Sunday I will be the one taking the last shred of your dignity that you may have had intact. You may call me an unhinged psychopath, you may call me a low life hell bent on one last hoorah, or you may call me someone who continuously butts into your business without a need or rational reason. I totally understand and that is of course your own opinion…but let me ask this Adam…When was the last time your opinion mattered for anything? Really Adam…cause I can’t seem to remember one?
{With that the scene fades to black signaling the end of the scene.}
