Post by Caleb Lockwood on Apr 6, 2013 9:42:52 GMT -6
”Multi-man matches…really aren’t my thing, it seems. Oh, sure, they can be fun, with the chaos and the bodies everywhere. But for me, at its core wrestling is a one-on-one affair. Best test of a man’s skill in that ring is sticking him across from another man and letting the two duke it out. And this week, I’ve got the…fortune? Misfortune? Whichever…to be up against one Curtis D. Kanyon. Former World Champion, soon-to-be two-time Hall of Famer…you’ve got a resume that would make most men jealous. The only problem with you is that you’re a raging nutjob who would give Sigmund Freud conniptions just looking at you.”
“I realize that this is probably something that gets harped on by people, but it really bears repeating. Curtis, no matter what you’ve been, from one half of Dirty Deal to Diamond Dallas Kanyon to whoever you are now, the one constant above all else is that you are absolutely, certifiably without the vast supermajority of your marbles. Whether you lost them or never had them to begin with is a contentious topic, but the end result’s the same: you’re more bonkers than a game of Whack-A-Mole, and ten times as dangerous.”
“I won’t be able to just count on my speed to beat you, Curtis. No, I’m going to have to use every asset I have at my disposal. My striking ability, what little grappling ability I have, my ring awareness…all of this will go into ensuring that I don’t turn into a stain on the mat. I know just how lethal that BANG! of yours is. I’ve seen it take out more than its fair share of men…I’ve felt what kind of power it has behind it. And trust me, I have no intentions of allowing any repeat performances from you.”
“Talk is cheap, I fully understand. So what’s different about me now? Simple. I’ve realized that if I want to succeed here, I need to be able to let go of a lot of what burdens me. I need to relax. Go with the flow. Let myself move the way I’m supposed to. Part of who I am is rooted in freerunning. I need to get back to that idea of constant, fluid motion. Being able to chain one move to the next without hesitation, without fear…it’s one of the few things that I could do that nobody else could. And I don’t think people prepare for that sort of assault. They’ve never seen it, not the way I do it, and so they don’t see it coming. Am I spoiling things? Yes. But there’s not much you can do.”
“After all, what can you do when you have no time to react? By the time you’ve processed one move, I’ve already delivered three more. On top of that, I’m back on my feet, ready to hit another five or six-move chain. Flipping through one move into another into another…it’s the sort of thing that you dream about sometimes. Just this uninterrupted cycle of hit and run. And the ring is going to be my ally was well. There’s so much you couldn’t do without the unique properties of a wrestling ring on your side. The ropes, the turnbuckles, they all open doors. And those are doors I’m more than happy to go charging through, banner held high for all the world to see.”
“You think that I’m just a sacrifice to help you get your mojo back. Then you’re going to go tearing on through to The Ace and the National Title. That’s your thought process, right? Well, rude awakening time, Curtis. I’m more than just some pushover, and even if you can’t get my name right now, at the end of our match you WILL remember it. When you’re staring at the ceiling, counting the lights, and you’re asking Thor why he deemed you unworthy…I promise you, you’ll remember the name of Caleb Lockwood. Don’t blink, big man. You might miss something.”
Open on Caleb and Tiffany, sitting on the couch together. Tiffany is reading a magazine, while Caleb is nominally watching TV. However, he seems unfocused, surprisingly unable to concentrate on the SportsCenter highlights playing in the background. Tiffany glances up from her magazine and notices this, setting it down and pausing the TV.
”Are you alright, Caleb? You look…worried.”
Caleb sighs, nodding, and looks over at her. He shifts on the couch, looking over to her.
”I…I just…I feel like people don’t take me seriously. I feel like I’m just seen as this speedbump for them. There’s never any acknowledgement of what I can do, what I HAVE done. It’s just dismissal after dismissal.”
He sighs, shaking his head as he thinks over what he’s just said.
”I know it sounds like I’m always complaining, Tiff. I don’t want to be that guy, it’s just…I’m getting real sick of being a footnote.”
Tiffany shakes her head, reaching over and squeezing Caleb’s shoulder reassuringly. She smiles at him, disarmingly, and squirms closer to him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and leaning into him.
”Just because you don’t have a trophy room, that doesn’t take away from what you’ve done. You went from the lowest of the low, barely scraping by, to a job with one of the best wrestling companies on the planet. You were taught by a man who, by any standard, is an all-time great. Success is just around the corner. If the people that doubt you stand in your way, well…then you might have to break them.”
Something twinkles in Tiffany’s eyes: whether it’s mischief, bloodlust, or something else entirely isn’t sure. Her words seem to reassure Caleb, though, and he smiles, putting an arm around her shoulders.
”Alright…how do you always know the exact thing to say to make everything seem much more positive?”
She smiles innocently up at him.
”It’s a gift. You don't have anything to be worried about. People like Curtis want to look down on you? Show them exactly what happens to people that underestimate you. But that's enough about work for now. This is us time. Want to find something to watch?”
Caleb nods, grabbing the remote, and begins channel surfing. Tiffany shifts again, getting more comfortable, and looks ahead. Her innocent smile slowly fades into what might almost be described as a predatory grin as we fade to black.
“I realize that this is probably something that gets harped on by people, but it really bears repeating. Curtis, no matter what you’ve been, from one half of Dirty Deal to Diamond Dallas Kanyon to whoever you are now, the one constant above all else is that you are absolutely, certifiably without the vast supermajority of your marbles. Whether you lost them or never had them to begin with is a contentious topic, but the end result’s the same: you’re more bonkers than a game of Whack-A-Mole, and ten times as dangerous.”
“I won’t be able to just count on my speed to beat you, Curtis. No, I’m going to have to use every asset I have at my disposal. My striking ability, what little grappling ability I have, my ring awareness…all of this will go into ensuring that I don’t turn into a stain on the mat. I know just how lethal that BANG! of yours is. I’ve seen it take out more than its fair share of men…I’ve felt what kind of power it has behind it. And trust me, I have no intentions of allowing any repeat performances from you.”
“Talk is cheap, I fully understand. So what’s different about me now? Simple. I’ve realized that if I want to succeed here, I need to be able to let go of a lot of what burdens me. I need to relax. Go with the flow. Let myself move the way I’m supposed to. Part of who I am is rooted in freerunning. I need to get back to that idea of constant, fluid motion. Being able to chain one move to the next without hesitation, without fear…it’s one of the few things that I could do that nobody else could. And I don’t think people prepare for that sort of assault. They’ve never seen it, not the way I do it, and so they don’t see it coming. Am I spoiling things? Yes. But there’s not much you can do.”
“After all, what can you do when you have no time to react? By the time you’ve processed one move, I’ve already delivered three more. On top of that, I’m back on my feet, ready to hit another five or six-move chain. Flipping through one move into another into another…it’s the sort of thing that you dream about sometimes. Just this uninterrupted cycle of hit and run. And the ring is going to be my ally was well. There’s so much you couldn’t do without the unique properties of a wrestling ring on your side. The ropes, the turnbuckles, they all open doors. And those are doors I’m more than happy to go charging through, banner held high for all the world to see.”
“You think that I’m just a sacrifice to help you get your mojo back. Then you’re going to go tearing on through to The Ace and the National Title. That’s your thought process, right? Well, rude awakening time, Curtis. I’m more than just some pushover, and even if you can’t get my name right now, at the end of our match you WILL remember it. When you’re staring at the ceiling, counting the lights, and you’re asking Thor why he deemed you unworthy…I promise you, you’ll remember the name of Caleb Lockwood. Don’t blink, big man. You might miss something.”
Open on Caleb and Tiffany, sitting on the couch together. Tiffany is reading a magazine, while Caleb is nominally watching TV. However, he seems unfocused, surprisingly unable to concentrate on the SportsCenter highlights playing in the background. Tiffany glances up from her magazine and notices this, setting it down and pausing the TV.
”Are you alright, Caleb? You look…worried.”
Caleb sighs, nodding, and looks over at her. He shifts on the couch, looking over to her.
”I…I just…I feel like people don’t take me seriously. I feel like I’m just seen as this speedbump for them. There’s never any acknowledgement of what I can do, what I HAVE done. It’s just dismissal after dismissal.”
He sighs, shaking his head as he thinks over what he’s just said.
”I know it sounds like I’m always complaining, Tiff. I don’t want to be that guy, it’s just…I’m getting real sick of being a footnote.”
Tiffany shakes her head, reaching over and squeezing Caleb’s shoulder reassuringly. She smiles at him, disarmingly, and squirms closer to him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and leaning into him.
”Just because you don’t have a trophy room, that doesn’t take away from what you’ve done. You went from the lowest of the low, barely scraping by, to a job with one of the best wrestling companies on the planet. You were taught by a man who, by any standard, is an all-time great. Success is just around the corner. If the people that doubt you stand in your way, well…then you might have to break them.”
Something twinkles in Tiffany’s eyes: whether it’s mischief, bloodlust, or something else entirely isn’t sure. Her words seem to reassure Caleb, though, and he smiles, putting an arm around her shoulders.
”Alright…how do you always know the exact thing to say to make everything seem much more positive?”
She smiles innocently up at him.
”It’s a gift. You don't have anything to be worried about. People like Curtis want to look down on you? Show them exactly what happens to people that underestimate you. But that's enough about work for now. This is us time. Want to find something to watch?”
Caleb nods, grabbing the remote, and begins channel surfing. Tiffany shifts again, getting more comfortable, and looks ahead. Her innocent smile slowly fades into what might almost be described as a predatory grin as we fade to black.