Post by The Ace on Jan 25, 2013 12:05:05 GMT -6
Inside a police interrogation room, sits the wirey frame of a thin man with dark slicked back hair, pale complexion, bulged out bloodshot brown eyes, jug ears and a 'Metallica' T-shirt. He leans back casually in his chair and smirks in the face of authority that glares down upon him.
The cop was about fifteen years older than the suspect, He wore age and intimidation well across his features as he rolled up his sleeves and stamped both knuckles down across the desk to stare into the eyes of the young punk.
Cop: Give it up kid, you know you're already going down for this...
Suspect: When my dad's lawyer gets here, I'll be sent on my way with a slap on the wrist, a DUI charge and maybe some community service. Aint no way you're going to be able to pin a murder on me man...your system is flawed, too many loopholes that you could drive a luxury Italian sports car through...
The grizzled detective clenched his jaw, as arrogant as the little piss ant was, he was also remarkably astute in his assessment of his predicament. The cop tried to switch tactics.
Cop: Okay, listen here Ben, you're a smart guy, right? What if your little buddy in the next room is spilling his guts right now to my partner, what if he's pinning this whole thing on you, huh? Do you really wanna take all the heat while he walks?
The twenty-one year old laughed.
Ben: Oh please, you must really be getting desperate, man! Ricky ain't gonna say a damn word against me. He's loyal to me like the little brother I never had...
The cop sat down next to Ben, and stared at him.
Cop: Like the little brother you never had, huh? What about the life of the little brother you destroyed when you killed his fiance?
Ben: Oh yeah, I heard about that. Apparently he's the brother of some fake wrestling star right? It's been all over the news for weeks man! People treating it like its such a big deal because he's some sort of local celebrity around here. I wonder if you'd be as anxious to nail somebody for murder if it had been just some two dollar crack whore who got run down and not the fiance of the brother of some middle aged dude who spends his time pretending to be a fighter for nine year olds in NCW instead of a legit fighter in UFC for real men...
The cop opened his mouth to continue questioning, but this is halted when a tall, smartly dressed man with greying hair and piercing blue eyes enters the room.
Man: Not another word Ben. We're done here...come on.
Ben smiles up at his lawyer as he gets up to leave, smiling smugly at the frustrated Detective Osbourne as he is escorted out with a pat on the back.
Detective Christopher Osbourne follows after a few minutes and meets his partner, Detective Sharon Cunningham coming out of the next interrogation room. They walk side by side to the nearest vending machine.
Osbourne: Did you get anything from the kid?
Cunningham: Not a word. I don't think we can prove homicide...
Osbourne: If there's any justice in the world, we will...
Cunningham: I wish I could share your optimism, Chris...
Chris grabs a can of Coke and passes one to his partner. He cracks his open and takes a drink.
You know Howdy. I've got to admire your balls. You certainly have a set on you, and you actually went out there last week and did what so many underdogs in your position talk about but seldom ever follow through with.Last week, you made an impact. You made a statement. You tried to make your name at my expense, you weren't the first and you won't be the last, I know this. I'm not about to bitch about it and promise vengeance, because I'm smart enough to know how this business works.
Sometimes you make questionable career choices just to get noticed around here, to put your name on the map, to see it up in lights, on the marquee outside arenas or on the side of a NCW production truck. I get it. I've been there myself actually. When I first came to NCW over five years ago, I bounced around from stable to stable trying to get a firm foothold within this company. I played ball, I played follow the leader with men this company regarded as legends and established names. I took a backseat to men like Spike Kane, Davey Ortega and Steve Awesome. I was willing to carve out a niche for myself as just another link in the food chain, whilst I took my sweet time to wrap that very chain around my fist and club all manner of piddly asses on my way to the top.
Five years later I am The Apex of Evolution.
Five years later Spike Kane is little more than a fond memory.
Five years later Davey Ortega is still second rate.
Five years later Steve Awesome is a movie star.
So, throwing your lot in with a stable, even a stable as pathetic as the Church of Thor is not a bad career move at all, it is certainly no worse than when you decided that you'd rather entertain the little kids live and in person as a professional wrestler rather than from the comfort of a television studio. You see unlike Will Washington, I don't think it takes that big a leap of faith to believe you can go from presenter to wrestler, teaming with Australian ex-convicts and delusional disciples, now there's your real leap of faith right there.
Whilst it is a sound strategy in theory, I wonder if you have even half the faith and devotion you think you have to stick around, to see this thing through, to sit back and bide your time until you can really seize your moment in the spotlight away from Curtis Kanyon. Where will you be in five years Captain Howdy? Will you be The Ace of the Church of Thor or will you just be a second rate television star who is just a nostalgic memory here in NCW like the rest of my Empire team mates?
Contrary to popular belief, it takes a certain indefinable star quality to endure in this business for as long as I have, a certain thick skin to deflect all the jokes and default insults that bitter resentful men jealous of your every success like to throw at you. There will always be a certain breed of ego that's attracted to this business like moths to flame who want to burn you because they're resentful that the only thing they've ever managed to burn with their wit is themselves.
Do you have what it takes to survive in this business, or are you ultimately destined to be just another silly name and failed gimmick whose greatest achievement in NCW before you fade into obscurity will be blindsiding two former triple crowners? Enjoy your moment of notoriety while it lasts because it never lasts long. You've proven you can take me down from behind, face to face however, its been an entirely different story hasn't it? The last time you faced me in a tag team match, it didn't work out so well for you did it, and by some curious coincidence, even then you were teaming with a man of unbridled faith, weren't you?
Clearly you have some affinity for men of faith and God, for your sake I hope whatever you believe in, whatever you trust to have your back this Sunday doesn't abandon you all over again...
Outside the Conway family home, Jake Conway is stood in a simple retro black and white 'Ace is in the Place' T-shirt and jeans. Kathy is stood by his side in a rather smart white blouse and grey skirt combo and nice shoes. Her hair neat, prim and proper as it hangs loosely just below her shoulders. A diamond necklace draped around her neck. She has her youngest daughter Domino on her hip, and Solitaire holding her other hand.
Kathy: Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?
Jake smiles at his wife.
Jake: No, no, don't be silly honey. It's only Emma's last meeting with Dr Halperin, just have some things to wrap up, honestly there's nothing for you to do, you'd be bored. Stay here with the kids, its not every day they get to see their mother at home, they miss you...
Kathy: It's not every day they get to see their father either, Jake...
The couple stare at each other, probing each other's eyes, and Jake looks ready to respond when a loud obnoxious horn cuts through the air and the unhealthy rattle of a battered blue truck pulls into the Conway driveway.
Jake looks over and a smile immediately lights up his face as Emma Danielson waves at him from inside the cab.
Kathy: Jesus! I thought you hated that thing and wanted it out of your driveway...
Jake: Nonsense! Emma's always been welcome here...
Kathy: Was that supposed to be funny?
Jake: You used to think so...
Before Kathy can respond, Jake bends down to hug Solitaire and kisses her on the cheek as he ruffles her hair.
Jake: Be good for Mommy...
Solitaire: Only if you are too daddy...
Kathy giggles.
Kathy: Smart girl.
Jake looks up at Kathy, his expression asking her what she'd been telling Solitaire. Kathy simply shrugs it off with an innocent smile. Jake gets up and kisses Domino on the forehead, Kathy puckers up for her kiss on the lips and leans forward in anticipation, but Emma honks again in utter impatience. Emma leans out the driver window.
Emma: Move it Jake, I don't wanna be late again...
Jake pecks his wife on the cheek as she frowns.
Jake: Bye sweetie, gotta go!
Jake picks up a hurried pace as Emma leans over and pops over the passenger side door for him, he jumps in and shuts the door behind him. As he settles himself into his seat, he takes a moment to look at Emma dressed in a simple pair of jeans and black and red checkered lumberjack shirt, with her sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He takes particular note of how shapely she was when she filled out that shirt, the top couple of buttons had been undone providing just enough of a hint of her assets to ignite his imagination. Emma brushes her hair to one side, the pink streaks hang to one side as they lock eyes and Emma smiles.
Emma: Buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy ride...
Jake: I expected nothing less.
Jake clicks his seatbelt into place.
They had been driving for about five minutes when Emma can no longer avoid the burning question in her mind.
Emma: You're not going to fire me, are you, Jake?
Jake: No matter what happens on Sunday Em, I promise you you will be well taken care of...
Emma: Like Alysson and Ayla were?
Jake: Trust me. I haven't let you down yet have I?
Emma: Personally? No. I just thought Kathy...
Jake cuts her off with a simple smile.
Jake: Don't worry about her, Emma.
Emma: Okay then. Change of subject. I'm really sorry about Andrew. I never knew he could get quite so paranoid...
Jake: Honestly, it's cool.
Emma: No, it really isn't. I just wish he understood what he was getting into. You were trained by Spike Kane, hell some people I've spoken to, even consider you his natural successor...
Jake grins at this, his eyes shining brighter at the comparison, feeding his ego.
Emma: I know you can really hurt him if you want to Jake, you might think he even deserves it, but I think he's just getting in way over his head. If he insists on playing with fire, it'll be only a matter of time before he gets burned....
Jake's eyes suddenly ignite with a realisation sparked by Emma's words.
Jake: Emma, you're a genius! I could kiss you right now...
Jake grins and something flickers in his dark brown eyes that unsettles her almost as much as it excites her. She wasn't expecting to feel this, especially not towards a man like Jake Conway...
Jake: Watch where we're going Em...
Emma snaps her neck to look forward and shifts in her seat.
Emma: Uh...yeah, right...
If there's one man in this match who could really stamp his name into the upper echlon of NCW after this week even more than Captain Howdy, it has to be Cyrus Daniels. As far as I'm concerned my friend, you and I are a lot alike. The only difference between us really is I'm a hitman for the right person at the right price. You have no such conditions. You'll hurt people and you'll do it with your bare hands, not for money or power, but because you love it - and I have no problem admitting that that crucial divide between us is what makes you even more dangerous than me in that ring.
But being more dangerous is often only half the story. That which makes you more dangerous, also tends to make you more sloppy in that ring, more prone to making mistakes, and I only need one brief opening and three seconds to totally invalidate the obvious size and strength advantages you have over me. What I lack in brawn, I more than make up for in brains, mate.
Maybe if I didn't have a family to think about, I'd do more than simply play a criminal, but hey this is what I'm paid to do. This is what puts food on my family's table and as long as it continues to do so, I can play the bad guy. I can play nice. I can play the Roberto Verona guy.
However Cyrus, you're walking a very thin line already. You know what they say about being careful about what you wish for, well if I were you my friend, I'd do well to heed that advice before I'm forced to drop the act and get real with you. Call my wife retarded one more time and the last thing I'll be doing is acting like a criminal, sunshine. The last thing I'll be doing is playing games....call my bluff if you want to, but I wouldn't raise the stakes when you so obviously cannot afford the gamble...
Consider this your first warning.
There will not be a second.
The cop was about fifteen years older than the suspect, He wore age and intimidation well across his features as he rolled up his sleeves and stamped both knuckles down across the desk to stare into the eyes of the young punk.
Cop: Give it up kid, you know you're already going down for this...
Suspect: When my dad's lawyer gets here, I'll be sent on my way with a slap on the wrist, a DUI charge and maybe some community service. Aint no way you're going to be able to pin a murder on me man...your system is flawed, too many loopholes that you could drive a luxury Italian sports car through...
The grizzled detective clenched his jaw, as arrogant as the little piss ant was, he was also remarkably astute in his assessment of his predicament. The cop tried to switch tactics.
Cop: Okay, listen here Ben, you're a smart guy, right? What if your little buddy in the next room is spilling his guts right now to my partner, what if he's pinning this whole thing on you, huh? Do you really wanna take all the heat while he walks?
The twenty-one year old laughed.
Ben: Oh please, you must really be getting desperate, man! Ricky ain't gonna say a damn word against me. He's loyal to me like the little brother I never had...
The cop sat down next to Ben, and stared at him.
Cop: Like the little brother you never had, huh? What about the life of the little brother you destroyed when you killed his fiance?
Ben: Oh yeah, I heard about that. Apparently he's the brother of some fake wrestling star right? It's been all over the news for weeks man! People treating it like its such a big deal because he's some sort of local celebrity around here. I wonder if you'd be as anxious to nail somebody for murder if it had been just some two dollar crack whore who got run down and not the fiance of the brother of some middle aged dude who spends his time pretending to be a fighter for nine year olds in NCW instead of a legit fighter in UFC for real men...
The cop opened his mouth to continue questioning, but this is halted when a tall, smartly dressed man with greying hair and piercing blue eyes enters the room.
Man: Not another word Ben. We're done here...come on.
Ben smiles up at his lawyer as he gets up to leave, smiling smugly at the frustrated Detective Osbourne as he is escorted out with a pat on the back.
Detective Christopher Osbourne follows after a few minutes and meets his partner, Detective Sharon Cunningham coming out of the next interrogation room. They walk side by side to the nearest vending machine.
Osbourne: Did you get anything from the kid?
Cunningham: Not a word. I don't think we can prove homicide...
Osbourne: If there's any justice in the world, we will...
Cunningham: I wish I could share your optimism, Chris...
Chris grabs a can of Coke and passes one to his partner. He cracks his open and takes a drink.
You know Howdy. I've got to admire your balls. You certainly have a set on you, and you actually went out there last week and did what so many underdogs in your position talk about but seldom ever follow through with.Last week, you made an impact. You made a statement. You tried to make your name at my expense, you weren't the first and you won't be the last, I know this. I'm not about to bitch about it and promise vengeance, because I'm smart enough to know how this business works.
Sometimes you make questionable career choices just to get noticed around here, to put your name on the map, to see it up in lights, on the marquee outside arenas or on the side of a NCW production truck. I get it. I've been there myself actually. When I first came to NCW over five years ago, I bounced around from stable to stable trying to get a firm foothold within this company. I played ball, I played follow the leader with men this company regarded as legends and established names. I took a backseat to men like Spike Kane, Davey Ortega and Steve Awesome. I was willing to carve out a niche for myself as just another link in the food chain, whilst I took my sweet time to wrap that very chain around my fist and club all manner of piddly asses on my way to the top.
Five years later I am The Apex of Evolution.
Five years later Spike Kane is little more than a fond memory.
Five years later Davey Ortega is still second rate.
Five years later Steve Awesome is a movie star.
So, throwing your lot in with a stable, even a stable as pathetic as the Church of Thor is not a bad career move at all, it is certainly no worse than when you decided that you'd rather entertain the little kids live and in person as a professional wrestler rather than from the comfort of a television studio. You see unlike Will Washington, I don't think it takes that big a leap of faith to believe you can go from presenter to wrestler, teaming with Australian ex-convicts and delusional disciples, now there's your real leap of faith right there.
Whilst it is a sound strategy in theory, I wonder if you have even half the faith and devotion you think you have to stick around, to see this thing through, to sit back and bide your time until you can really seize your moment in the spotlight away from Curtis Kanyon. Where will you be in five years Captain Howdy? Will you be The Ace of the Church of Thor or will you just be a second rate television star who is just a nostalgic memory here in NCW like the rest of my Empire team mates?
Contrary to popular belief, it takes a certain indefinable star quality to endure in this business for as long as I have, a certain thick skin to deflect all the jokes and default insults that bitter resentful men jealous of your every success like to throw at you. There will always be a certain breed of ego that's attracted to this business like moths to flame who want to burn you because they're resentful that the only thing they've ever managed to burn with their wit is themselves.
Do you have what it takes to survive in this business, or are you ultimately destined to be just another silly name and failed gimmick whose greatest achievement in NCW before you fade into obscurity will be blindsiding two former triple crowners? Enjoy your moment of notoriety while it lasts because it never lasts long. You've proven you can take me down from behind, face to face however, its been an entirely different story hasn't it? The last time you faced me in a tag team match, it didn't work out so well for you did it, and by some curious coincidence, even then you were teaming with a man of unbridled faith, weren't you?
Clearly you have some affinity for men of faith and God, for your sake I hope whatever you believe in, whatever you trust to have your back this Sunday doesn't abandon you all over again...
Outside the Conway family home, Jake Conway is stood in a simple retro black and white 'Ace is in the Place' T-shirt and jeans. Kathy is stood by his side in a rather smart white blouse and grey skirt combo and nice shoes. Her hair neat, prim and proper as it hangs loosely just below her shoulders. A diamond necklace draped around her neck. She has her youngest daughter Domino on her hip, and Solitaire holding her other hand.
Kathy: Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?
Jake smiles at his wife.
Jake: No, no, don't be silly honey. It's only Emma's last meeting with Dr Halperin, just have some things to wrap up, honestly there's nothing for you to do, you'd be bored. Stay here with the kids, its not every day they get to see their mother at home, they miss you...
Kathy: It's not every day they get to see their father either, Jake...
The couple stare at each other, probing each other's eyes, and Jake looks ready to respond when a loud obnoxious horn cuts through the air and the unhealthy rattle of a battered blue truck pulls into the Conway driveway.
Jake looks over and a smile immediately lights up his face as Emma Danielson waves at him from inside the cab.
Kathy: Jesus! I thought you hated that thing and wanted it out of your driveway...
Jake: Nonsense! Emma's always been welcome here...
Kathy: Was that supposed to be funny?
Jake: You used to think so...
Before Kathy can respond, Jake bends down to hug Solitaire and kisses her on the cheek as he ruffles her hair.
Jake: Be good for Mommy...
Solitaire: Only if you are too daddy...
Kathy giggles.
Kathy: Smart girl.
Jake looks up at Kathy, his expression asking her what she'd been telling Solitaire. Kathy simply shrugs it off with an innocent smile. Jake gets up and kisses Domino on the forehead, Kathy puckers up for her kiss on the lips and leans forward in anticipation, but Emma honks again in utter impatience. Emma leans out the driver window.
Emma: Move it Jake, I don't wanna be late again...
Jake pecks his wife on the cheek as she frowns.
Jake: Bye sweetie, gotta go!
Jake picks up a hurried pace as Emma leans over and pops over the passenger side door for him, he jumps in and shuts the door behind him. As he settles himself into his seat, he takes a moment to look at Emma dressed in a simple pair of jeans and black and red checkered lumberjack shirt, with her sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He takes particular note of how shapely she was when she filled out that shirt, the top couple of buttons had been undone providing just enough of a hint of her assets to ignite his imagination. Emma brushes her hair to one side, the pink streaks hang to one side as they lock eyes and Emma smiles.
Emma: Buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy ride...
Jake: I expected nothing less.
Jake clicks his seatbelt into place.
They had been driving for about five minutes when Emma can no longer avoid the burning question in her mind.
Emma: You're not going to fire me, are you, Jake?
Jake: No matter what happens on Sunday Em, I promise you you will be well taken care of...
Emma: Like Alysson and Ayla were?
Jake: Trust me. I haven't let you down yet have I?
Emma: Personally? No. I just thought Kathy...
Jake cuts her off with a simple smile.
Jake: Don't worry about her, Emma.
Emma: Okay then. Change of subject. I'm really sorry about Andrew. I never knew he could get quite so paranoid...
Jake: Honestly, it's cool.
Emma: No, it really isn't. I just wish he understood what he was getting into. You were trained by Spike Kane, hell some people I've spoken to, even consider you his natural successor...
Jake grins at this, his eyes shining brighter at the comparison, feeding his ego.
Emma: I know you can really hurt him if you want to Jake, you might think he even deserves it, but I think he's just getting in way over his head. If he insists on playing with fire, it'll be only a matter of time before he gets burned....
Jake's eyes suddenly ignite with a realisation sparked by Emma's words.
Jake: Emma, you're a genius! I could kiss you right now...
Jake grins and something flickers in his dark brown eyes that unsettles her almost as much as it excites her. She wasn't expecting to feel this, especially not towards a man like Jake Conway...
Jake: Watch where we're going Em...
Emma snaps her neck to look forward and shifts in her seat.
Emma: Uh...yeah, right...
If there's one man in this match who could really stamp his name into the upper echlon of NCW after this week even more than Captain Howdy, it has to be Cyrus Daniels. As far as I'm concerned my friend, you and I are a lot alike. The only difference between us really is I'm a hitman for the right person at the right price. You have no such conditions. You'll hurt people and you'll do it with your bare hands, not for money or power, but because you love it - and I have no problem admitting that that crucial divide between us is what makes you even more dangerous than me in that ring.
But being more dangerous is often only half the story. That which makes you more dangerous, also tends to make you more sloppy in that ring, more prone to making mistakes, and I only need one brief opening and three seconds to totally invalidate the obvious size and strength advantages you have over me. What I lack in brawn, I more than make up for in brains, mate.
Maybe if I didn't have a family to think about, I'd do more than simply play a criminal, but hey this is what I'm paid to do. This is what puts food on my family's table and as long as it continues to do so, I can play the bad guy. I can play nice. I can play the Roberto Verona guy.
However Cyrus, you're walking a very thin line already. You know what they say about being careful about what you wish for, well if I were you my friend, I'd do well to heed that advice before I'm forced to drop the act and get real with you. Call my wife retarded one more time and the last thing I'll be doing is acting like a criminal, sunshine. The last thing I'll be doing is playing games....call my bluff if you want to, but I wouldn't raise the stakes when you so obviously cannot afford the gamble...
Consider this your first warning.
There will not be a second.