Post by Jack Ryan on Apr 2, 2008 9:49:28 GMT -6
This is everything you've ever dreamed of. Final Table in the Main Event. Untold millions await you if you can pull this off. Several thousand players are already on the sidelines, watching, wishing they had made different choices. Your skill held, your luck held, and now you're here, heads up with the last player left aside from yourself. He doesn't have a household name. He's not a Brunson, a Hellmuth, a Negreanu, he's just another guy like you. He is all that stands in between first and second place. The bracelet, and the almost. Your chip stacks are dead even, the blinds are high, and you're growing frustrated. When you look down...
A-H, A-C
You drew the bullets, the rockets, Aces.. the best starting hand in Texas Hold'Em. You call the blind, limping in to set the trap. No matter what he raises to, you're calling. He looks at you, checks his hand, and then taps his hand on the table. Checking the action. Is he weak? Does he have a drawing hand? Something he can outdraw you on? Or just something he's forced to play, like.. 7-H, 2-S.. You can't tell. The flop comes..
A-S, J-C, J-S
You've done it.. you've flopped the Nut full house. Aces full of Jacks.. you're elation is amazing. He raises about a third of his stack. You think for a minute about re-raising, but that might scare him. So you hollywood for a while, debating you're "difficult" decision, before flat calling. You've got this...
(We open inside a gym. Muscular men and women all around, performing various workouts. Alexis enters, looking completely out of her element in a white silk blouse and black skirt, immediately heading for the section marked "Private". Inside are several well-to-do patrons with their fancy thousand dollars an hour personal trainers, who look really bored by the way. "Jack" is in the corner, a barbell perched across his shoulders, doing squats. She approaches him and takes a seat nearby, neatly arraging her notes in her lap.)
So, what did you find out?
Believe it or not, you have a match at the pay-per-view sir.
Really? Wow, that was much faster than I had anticipated.
My guess is that you've impressed the front office with your work.
Maybe, so.. what did I get myself involved in this time?
You are involved in a Fatal Four-way for a chance to become the number one contender for the X Division title. Your opponents are..
Wait.. the what?
The X Division title.
You're serious?(Sigh)Why does that not surprise me.. I spend all this time trying to break out of that division and as soon as I get somewhere else they throw me back in it. Who's the champion?
One Ricky Johnson.
Ok, is there a chance I'll be facing someone else?
He has a title defense at A Night to Remember against Angel.
Why do they do this to me.. (Sigh again) Fine.. who am I facing this week?
Xavier Williams.. affiliation: Age of the Revolution. A straight edge guy who believes in the purity of the sport. Has since forsaken all desire for the materialistic things in society.
That is kind of ironic. Someone who hates materialistic things, right in the thick of things in the hunt for one of the titles. Granted, it might not be his choice but I doubt it. I know that feeling. You look at all the people in the arena and all you can see are signs for all the wrestlers they consider important. The people who wear the gold. You know what I'm talking about. Can you honestly say that when you stand in the ring and look out at all the "Lance Ryan World Champion" signs, The signs for the Smoking Aces.. Ricky Johnson.. Sexy Jason.. each with a carefully drawn title belt on it that you don't wish that someone had done the same for you? Especially knowing that you've probably already won a title somewhere else? That being said, I do admire you Xavier. It takes a lot of heart to fight the temptations that assail us at every turn. Dealers hanging outside the locker room, promising you that quick fix for pennies on the dollar. Something to take away the pain they say. Then suddenly you walk back from the ring and you realize you can't live without it. Then it starts the never-ending spiral into the darkness. This just may be a good time after all, excluding the whole X division thing. I just hope it's not soiled by the other two guys in the ring. Then again, we could always settle this another time. Ok.. enough praise for one promo. Next?
Shaun Wilson. As he claims, the greatest athlete in nCw. Former X Division Champion.
Nother arrogant dick. Great. I'd like to point out that even David Arquette has held a title somewhere. It doesn't make you great Sparky. The very fact that you're in this match instead of the title match means that you aren't really aren't all that good on any standard, let alone you're own. But that doesn't matter to you does it.. You spend all this time building up your own hype, just to fall short in the end. That's fine. You want to remain a glorified over-zealous jobber your entire life, makes no difference to me. I just get to sit back here and laugh at your failings and then mock you for letting us all down.. again. I can just hear you now. Ranting and raving about how great you are, and how I don't know anything about you, and how that this will be just a walk in the park for someone as great as you. I can even hear my own laughter at you now as you mumble and trip over your own words. But go ahead, say all that crap, I know you want to. It's the only thing you probably ever say anyway. I've known a thousand other two dimensional cardboard cut-outs like you that do exactly that. Some have moved past that into 3D land, but I can already tell that's not where you're headed, Spunky Brewster. But, eh, I've got plenty of time. And I could use a good laugh after the beating Angel handed out. Next?
Reckoning. A White gangsta. Sexy Jason's mentor.
You mean gangsta as in, some guy who thinks he's the **** and acts like he's all tough but wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight? Come on dude, who the hell do you think you're kidding? What? Are you going to bring a gun to the ring and shoot me or something? You know, if you didn't look like a slightly bigger version of pinnochio I might actually take that **** seriously. News flash, busting a cap with a cap gun does not make you hood, tough or even above the age of twelve. Hell the recoil from a real gun would probably tear your arm off. You look like you can't even walk outside if there's a light breeze for fear of being blown around like a rag doll. In all seriousness, you're about as gangster as Stephen Hawking. In case you don't know that is the scientist nerd guy who rolls in his talking wheelchair. To be honest, I have to give you a little credit, because it takes a lot of guts to say that kind of **** with a straight face. Honestly sometimes I don't know how you do it. I mean really, are you one of those make a wish kids? Did you tell them you were dying of some rare and obscure disease, so they would make nCw hire you? Because that's the only reason I could come up with right now as to why you'd be here.. at all. I'd compare you to say.. North Dakota. Something you hear a lot about and aren't really sure if it exists or not. But, you can have all the fun you want with that Casper. Because in the end, nobody, not even Shaun Wilson.. is intimidated by you. That's it?
Yes, sir.
Good.
(He sets the weights down, grabbing a towel and heading off for the shower. The scene fades on Alexis, taking notes of what just occured.)
A-H, A-C
You drew the bullets, the rockets, Aces.. the best starting hand in Texas Hold'Em. You call the blind, limping in to set the trap. No matter what he raises to, you're calling. He looks at you, checks his hand, and then taps his hand on the table. Checking the action. Is he weak? Does he have a drawing hand? Something he can outdraw you on? Or just something he's forced to play, like.. 7-H, 2-S.. You can't tell. The flop comes..
A-S, J-C, J-S
You've done it.. you've flopped the Nut full house. Aces full of Jacks.. you're elation is amazing. He raises about a third of his stack. You think for a minute about re-raising, but that might scare him. So you hollywood for a while, debating you're "difficult" decision, before flat calling. You've got this...
(We open inside a gym. Muscular men and women all around, performing various workouts. Alexis enters, looking completely out of her element in a white silk blouse and black skirt, immediately heading for the section marked "Private". Inside are several well-to-do patrons with their fancy thousand dollars an hour personal trainers, who look really bored by the way. "Jack" is in the corner, a barbell perched across his shoulders, doing squats. She approaches him and takes a seat nearby, neatly arraging her notes in her lap.)
So, what did you find out?
Believe it or not, you have a match at the pay-per-view sir.
Really? Wow, that was much faster than I had anticipated.
My guess is that you've impressed the front office with your work.
Maybe, so.. what did I get myself involved in this time?
You are involved in a Fatal Four-way for a chance to become the number one contender for the X Division title. Your opponents are..
Wait.. the what?
The X Division title.
You're serious?(Sigh)Why does that not surprise me.. I spend all this time trying to break out of that division and as soon as I get somewhere else they throw me back in it. Who's the champion?
One Ricky Johnson.
Ok, is there a chance I'll be facing someone else?
He has a title defense at A Night to Remember against Angel.
Why do they do this to me.. (Sigh again) Fine.. who am I facing this week?
Xavier Williams.. affiliation: Age of the Revolution. A straight edge guy who believes in the purity of the sport. Has since forsaken all desire for the materialistic things in society.
That is kind of ironic. Someone who hates materialistic things, right in the thick of things in the hunt for one of the titles. Granted, it might not be his choice but I doubt it. I know that feeling. You look at all the people in the arena and all you can see are signs for all the wrestlers they consider important. The people who wear the gold. You know what I'm talking about. Can you honestly say that when you stand in the ring and look out at all the "Lance Ryan World Champion" signs, The signs for the Smoking Aces.. Ricky Johnson.. Sexy Jason.. each with a carefully drawn title belt on it that you don't wish that someone had done the same for you? Especially knowing that you've probably already won a title somewhere else? That being said, I do admire you Xavier. It takes a lot of heart to fight the temptations that assail us at every turn. Dealers hanging outside the locker room, promising you that quick fix for pennies on the dollar. Something to take away the pain they say. Then suddenly you walk back from the ring and you realize you can't live without it. Then it starts the never-ending spiral into the darkness. This just may be a good time after all, excluding the whole X division thing. I just hope it's not soiled by the other two guys in the ring. Then again, we could always settle this another time. Ok.. enough praise for one promo. Next?
Shaun Wilson. As he claims, the greatest athlete in nCw. Former X Division Champion.
Nother arrogant dick. Great. I'd like to point out that even David Arquette has held a title somewhere. It doesn't make you great Sparky. The very fact that you're in this match instead of the title match means that you aren't really aren't all that good on any standard, let alone you're own. But that doesn't matter to you does it.. You spend all this time building up your own hype, just to fall short in the end. That's fine. You want to remain a glorified over-zealous jobber your entire life, makes no difference to me. I just get to sit back here and laugh at your failings and then mock you for letting us all down.. again. I can just hear you now. Ranting and raving about how great you are, and how I don't know anything about you, and how that this will be just a walk in the park for someone as great as you. I can even hear my own laughter at you now as you mumble and trip over your own words. But go ahead, say all that crap, I know you want to. It's the only thing you probably ever say anyway. I've known a thousand other two dimensional cardboard cut-outs like you that do exactly that. Some have moved past that into 3D land, but I can already tell that's not where you're headed, Spunky Brewster. But, eh, I've got plenty of time. And I could use a good laugh after the beating Angel handed out. Next?
Reckoning. A White gangsta. Sexy Jason's mentor.
You mean gangsta as in, some guy who thinks he's the **** and acts like he's all tough but wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight? Come on dude, who the hell do you think you're kidding? What? Are you going to bring a gun to the ring and shoot me or something? You know, if you didn't look like a slightly bigger version of pinnochio I might actually take that **** seriously. News flash, busting a cap with a cap gun does not make you hood, tough or even above the age of twelve. Hell the recoil from a real gun would probably tear your arm off. You look like you can't even walk outside if there's a light breeze for fear of being blown around like a rag doll. In all seriousness, you're about as gangster as Stephen Hawking. In case you don't know that is the scientist nerd guy who rolls in his talking wheelchair. To be honest, I have to give you a little credit, because it takes a lot of guts to say that kind of **** with a straight face. Honestly sometimes I don't know how you do it. I mean really, are you one of those make a wish kids? Did you tell them you were dying of some rare and obscure disease, so they would make nCw hire you? Because that's the only reason I could come up with right now as to why you'd be here.. at all. I'd compare you to say.. North Dakota. Something you hear a lot about and aren't really sure if it exists or not. But, you can have all the fun you want with that Casper. Because in the end, nobody, not even Shaun Wilson.. is intimidated by you. That's it?
Yes, sir.
Good.
(He sets the weights down, grabbing a towel and heading off for the shower. The scene fades on Alexis, taking notes of what just occured.)