Post by Simon Daye on Jan 6, 2013 1:50:18 GMT -6
[Simon and his best friend Johnnie Lei are on the edge of the bed, each man with a video game controller in their hand playing a game together... obviously. Simon has a wide smile on his face and doesn’t seem to be that into the game, where Johnnie is intently staring at the screen trying to snipe his best friend when suddenly Lei shoots up and yells.]
Johnnie: YES! Headshot. Suck it Simon.
Simon: That was nice dude, really good shot. Well done.
[Johnnie glares at his friend in disbelief.]
Johnnie: What....
[Simon is grinning like a jackass.]
Simon: I’m just saying congratulations on a great shot, I’m proud of how well you’re doing.
[Johnnie drops the controller with a slack jawed look, glaring at Simon, who is still grinning like an idiot. Johnnie then shakes his head and looks very serious.]
Johnnie: Alright, cut the crap, who was she?
Simon: Whatever are you talking about?
Johnnie: Sydney, how was she?
Simon: What do you mean good sir?
Johnnie: Look, guys don’t act this happy unless they’ve just down a hit of ecstasy or they just got laid by a smoking hot chick... and if it’s the former... you have some serious issues, since you know damn good and well that I was going to be the only person here.
[Simon shrugs his shoulders, still with the **** eating grin on his face. Johnnie looks a bit impatient now as he smacks his best friend on the upper arm.]
Johnnie: Come on dude, what the hell?
Simon: Man I can’t tell you... It wouldn’t be right. I’m a gentleman.
Johnnie: Since when?!
Simon: I would take exception to that, but right now... you couldn’t get this smile of my face with a sand blaster.
Johnnie: You lucky sono.....
Gib: SONOVA BITCH!
[Suddenly the door to the hotel room is violently jarred open, the massive foot of Gib is behind the wood splintering and crashinging into the room. He stands there like a huge ball of power and rage glaring at the two men. Their jaws drop to the floor. Johnnie turns and looks at Simon totaly not smiling as a takes a gulp of air, and proceeds to point and laugh at him.]
Johnnie: hahahaha.... good luck with that... I’m out. Hope it was worth it.
Simon: Wait no, don’t leave... there needs to be a witness!
[Johnnie pushes past Gib and bails on his friend. Gib slowly and powerfully steps into the room, making a loud thud with every foot hit. He points at Simon, with his eyes turned to slits and his mouth curled into a snarl.]
Gib: I’m going to kill you....
[We fade out.]
First, let me say this.
Davey Ortega is a man I very much respect. Despite anything anyone ever says about him being a choker or being a flake, or what the hell ever is going around, he’s always been one of the top wrestlers in this company. Personal demons aside there is not a single person on this roster that can say they are 100% better than Davey Ortega inside that ring. He gets my mad respect and he always will. Runner up in the first ever Road to the Gold, took Lance Ryan to the limit and with a slightly altered change of history, a half second difference... Davey Ortega might be viewed as the greatest NCW wrestler that has ever been... I mean look at him... You don’t see Lance Ryan anywhere today.
Now with that said... Mr. Ortega has thrown his name into the wrong hat. Look at who his pussy ass partner is, look at who he has chosen to go into war with. Joe, laid on his back, Everyman. Joe Everyman has literally spent more time getting pinned than he has anything else in his life. Making love to his wife... nope getting pinned; enjoying a good book on a quiet evening.... nope being beaten three seconds at a time has added up to more time wasted. He’s like the opposite of a partner you would choose if you were looking to win a match, he’s the guy you pick if you were trying to throw the damn thing.
Maybe that’s it, maybe Ortega in his older age has gone a tiny bit insane, it’s like he’s trying to sabotage the rest of his career by hitching a ride on the Joe Everyman bandwagon. If there was ever a greater form of career suicide then I’ve never heard of it. If Lex Sense couldn’t carry Joe Everyman’s lifeless body to a victory and tag team championship reign with three or four shots, then I highly doubt anybody can... and I say that in all due respect to Davey Ortega. I think he’s a great wrestler, I just don’t think there is any way this can be accomplished.
Of course maybe that’s Ortega’s spin here... Hmm, that’s interesting. IN an attempt to resurrect his career and prove that he is indeed one of the greats he’s going to do the impossible, he’s going to do what nobody thought was a realistic possibility, he’s going to bring an NCW tag team championship to Joe Everyman’s waist.
That would be genius if it wasn’t so foolish.
Joe Everyman isn’t worth the ****ing white college ruled paper space it took to write down his name. He isn’t going to magically become “good” over night, and he’s not going to get any of that Ortega magic rubbed off on him, because if he couldn’t get any from Lex Sense... a murderous monster of a man who can cut down anybody who stands in his way, then he’s not going to get any from Mr. Ortega. Lets face it here, he’s a lost cause, he’s nothing to anybody anymore. He’s just Joe Everyman... former three time National champion who has won maybe three “big matches” in the past three years. Hey it’s 2013 now, maybe this will be his big match of the year... get out of the way early... but I highly doubt it.
Joe Everyman had his shot to beat me before, I gave him every chance to defend the honor of his wife, I gave him every opportunity to prove to the NCW world that he wasn’t a pussy ass bitch, but he couldn’t finr it in his precious time to take the match any more seriously than he took a dark match against Uncle Gerald. If he couldn’t beat me under those circumstances... when he had everything to fight for. When he was standing up for everything he believed in with a fierce will to prevail....then what makes him think he’ll win this time? What makes him think he stands a chance now? Just because he has Ortega on his side?
Lets just for the sake of argument say that me and Joe Everyman are equals and scratch each other out of this match.. If you were forced for one time in your life to bet everything you had on a single match... and lets say this match was Gib versus Davey Ortega... who would you choose to win? I think the answer is clear to about 95% of people. Which mind you is not in any way me alluding to Ortega not being talented, but more to the fact that Gib is a freaking freak primal beat of nature. He’s like if a Mountain Gorilla was able to successfully mate with a Indian elephant.
No I have no idea what that was supposed to mean... but you get the point.
This isn’t a match between two equal teams with two storied histories. This is a match between two pairings, Gib and Simon versus Davey and Joe. I have proven I can trump Everyman, Gib has proven that he can trump anybody. There is no way you can look at the possible pairings in the ring and think for a second that Ortegaman can win this. Maybe you’re sitting there saying to yourself “pairings don’t matter in a tag team environment, it’s working as a team.” Ok Well then... which team in this match has a bunk bed?
Exactly.
And that’s why we’re going to win.
We win the individual pairings, we win the team aspect.... we’re clearly superior in every way possible to this team. The end. turn out the lights. the fat lady has sung her final note. This match hasn’t even happened and it’s already in the record books...
Team America comes out on top.
A headline that you all should be ridiculously used to by now.
Have a “GOOD” daye.
[We fade back in and see Gib standing over Simon with his finger pointing towards the young man. Gib reaches into his pocket and Simon braces himself seemingly for a gunshot, when Gibby pulls out a balled up piece of plastic.. a Twinkee wrapper and pegs Simon right between the eyes with it.]
Gib: You ate the last Twinkee you jackhole! You know damn well that might be the very last on in existence! What the **** is wrong with you!? You inconsiderate little peehole! God, now what am I supposed to have as midday snack!? You better start coming up with suggestions boy!
Simon: I’m sorry Gib, I don’t know what I was thinking...
Gib: Don’t worry about it, I forgive you...wait, what were we talking about again?
Simon: Me eating the last Twinkee.
Gib: WHAT!? You sonova bitch!
[Gib raises his right hand like he’s about to strike Simon as Simon throws up his hands in the defensive positioning.]
Gib: Ha ha ha ha ha... oh you’re such a pussy sometimes. Come on kiddo get up, come with me.
Simon: Where are we going?
[Simon stands up from bed and Gib immediately grabs Simon’s inner thighs and squeezes them tightly. Gib then moves his hands up to Simon’s waist and gives that a mighty squeeze as he begins feeling around Simon’s body. Daye looks completely uncomfortable by this.]
Gib: You’re getting a little pudgy in key places of manly physique. Probably from eating so many Twinkees. We’re hitting the gym and working some of that off before our big match.
Simon: It was one Twinkee.
Gib: Yeah and it’s already showing! Do you want to go into this match looking like a fat out of shape hairy slob!?... because I already got that angle covered! You need to hit the weights and I don’t want to hear any lip from you!
Simon: alright alright, i get it, I’ll go.
Gib: See this is what makes us such great partners. We are so in tune with the other and watch the other’s back at all times. It’s a great relationship... we wouldn’t possibly do things like sleep with the other’s daughter outside of wedlock, like those filthy Second rate Riders would? That would just be a complete betrayal of trust and friendship and something that there is no way in hell we could possibly put the other through something like that. Right?
Simon: ….uhhh... riiiight... *cough*
Gib: Good showing my boy, now lets get cracking.
[Gib hardily smacks Simon in the back as he lets out a mighty chuckle, both pushing Simon forward and giving him a friendly gesture. Simon swallows another large gulp of air as he nervously steps out of the shattered remains of his hotel room door, looking at it uneasily. We fade to black.]