Post by defunctlies on Sept 26, 2008 18:01:57 GMT -6
The scene opens on another sweltering day in Miami, Jack once again in a car. The low rumble of an old V8 suggests it's his dark-blue Mustang. He looks a little uncomfortable and shifts about in his seat quite a bit, his face a little red. His brow is bathed in sweat, dripping down his nose.
"So here I was, thinking that I could escape the heat of the state of Florida by getting into a car and enjoy some aircon. Drive around a bit and enjoy Miami a bit more."
He sighs.
"Unfortunately, as you can tell from the state of my shirt, it seems that the old air unit in this car has broken down. I thought I'd be able to cancel that out by driving around with the windows open."
He pokes a thumb at the open side window, but the car doesn't seem to be moving.
"And, naturally, there is something that has prevented me from doing that."
Jack deadpans and points directly out the front window. The camera on the dashboard pans around and focuses on the rather large traffic jam stretching out in front of him. There's an irritated sigh as the camera swivels back to look at Hammond as he wipes his forehead with a sleeved forearm.
"...either way, I've got to cut a promo, so I apologize if I get snappy."
There's muffled laughter from the passenger seat, Jack shooting a slightly irritated glance at whoever's sitting there.
"The fact my sound recordist is also a Miami native and loves this kind of weather isn't helping either."
He sighs and tries to settle.
"So. AJ Pheonix."
Jack shifts uncomfortably in his seat, pausing for a second before scowling at the traffic stretching out in front of him.
"I'm not exactly in the mood to humor him today, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't try to act all coy and try to 'pander to the rabble'."
He shoots a look at the camera not seen since that slightly dark promo he'd cut a while back, his face not at all recognizable from his usual demeanor.
"You've obviously got this image in your mind of me, AJ. An image of some smiling buffoon, willing not to do anything to get a laugh, a cheer, a cheap thrill, just so the fans can go away pleased with a nice little show by someone who obviously isn't trying too hard. Some bloke who's happy to play the clown and is apparently obsessed with cars."
Hammond sighs, shaking his head slightly...but he smirks.
"While that's all very well and 'cute', he's not real. That's just some fantasy you and many other people in this business have come up with. Some little persona you imagine up for yourselves in order to allay your fears. It makes you feel a bit better about yourself, and lulls you into a false sense of security."
Jack chuckles to himself.
"Now I'm not saying I haven't enjoyed playing that part. Sure I do like to joke around, play the part as it were. I also enjoy cars a bit more than your average man, and I suppose that's rather obvious considering the large percentage of my promos cut whilst sitting in the driver's seat of some machine I'm willing to blather on and on about."
He glares at the camera.
"AJ, you have no idea what I'm capable of. But more importantly, I think you have no idea what you're talking about half the time your mouth happens to be open. You claim that you are a different person when it comes to defending your title. And quite frankly, that's got to be the most laughable thing I've ever heard."
Jack smirks, his smile cold and unpleasant.
"You seemed to have deluded yourself into thinking that just because you hold gold AJ, you're given the freedom to make pitiful excuses whenever you lose. But it's just the opposite. Claiming my wins over you were flukes, claiming any wins that anyone's made against you were mere luck...it's inexcusable. You need to go out each night as if you were defending your title. It's almost as if you were saying that since it's not a title match, you're allowed to take it easy and that a loss is nothing big."
Jack sighs and shakes his head.
"A champion does not relax. You hold gold, you put your reputation on the line each time you step into the ring. As a title holder, you don't relax; you've got the eyes of every wrestler in the business watching you each time you step into the ring, waiting for their chance to face and topple you."
He narrows his eyes at the camera.
"I'll make this nice and clear so I'm not misunderstood. Not by you, AJ, nor by anyone else; You don't deserve that title. Your time in the Corporate Empire has been a joke. A stable that is ready to implode. A stable that would gladly toss you out the second you lose that title. I've said it before, but those stuck up prats don't give a flying about your well being. They just care if you've got something around your waist that proves to them you're worth something."
A hollow laugh comes from Hammond's lips.
"AJ, you talk about flaws and focus...and it's time you woke up to your own crippling flaws and your own lack of focus. This Sunday at Road To The Gold, you can stop deluding yourself into believing that you're untouchable."
He shrugs.
"Maybe you will keep your hold on that title. Maybe you will prove that you can best me. But I doubt it. I don't need luck nor confidence to beat you AJ. I don't need to worry about focus or self-doubt. I don't need any of those things when I'm facing someone as lost as you."
Jack glares at the camera a while longer, letting his words sink in, this serious and darker side of his personality seeming to override the more playful half...then suddenly he blinks as his hair seems to be blown about, a soft hum coming over the mic. He grins, his previous mood suddenly vanishing.
"The aircon's working!"
He twiddles with a knob on the dashboard and lets out a long sigh of relief.
"Oh, that's so nice..."
He closes his eyes, enjoying the cool air coming from the vents, smiling with intense satisfaction. He's only broken out of his little ceremony by an exaggerated cough from the sound recordist.
"Oh...uh...well, this Sunday, I go to prove myself. I want so badly to succeed and for once, failure is not something I'm willing to accept..."
He pauses and lets out a lazy grin.
"But I'm more concerned about this air-con right now."
He leans back in the chair and sighs happily, his bad temper seeming to have gone with the heat. The scene fades to black.
"So here I was, thinking that I could escape the heat of the state of Florida by getting into a car and enjoy some aircon. Drive around a bit and enjoy Miami a bit more."
He sighs.
"Unfortunately, as you can tell from the state of my shirt, it seems that the old air unit in this car has broken down. I thought I'd be able to cancel that out by driving around with the windows open."
He pokes a thumb at the open side window, but the car doesn't seem to be moving.
"And, naturally, there is something that has prevented me from doing that."
Jack deadpans and points directly out the front window. The camera on the dashboard pans around and focuses on the rather large traffic jam stretching out in front of him. There's an irritated sigh as the camera swivels back to look at Hammond as he wipes his forehead with a sleeved forearm.
"...either way, I've got to cut a promo, so I apologize if I get snappy."
There's muffled laughter from the passenger seat, Jack shooting a slightly irritated glance at whoever's sitting there.
"The fact my sound recordist is also a Miami native and loves this kind of weather isn't helping either."
He sighs and tries to settle.
"So. AJ Pheonix."
Jack shifts uncomfortably in his seat, pausing for a second before scowling at the traffic stretching out in front of him.
"I'm not exactly in the mood to humor him today, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't try to act all coy and try to 'pander to the rabble'."
He shoots a look at the camera not seen since that slightly dark promo he'd cut a while back, his face not at all recognizable from his usual demeanor.
"You've obviously got this image in your mind of me, AJ. An image of some smiling buffoon, willing not to do anything to get a laugh, a cheer, a cheap thrill, just so the fans can go away pleased with a nice little show by someone who obviously isn't trying too hard. Some bloke who's happy to play the clown and is apparently obsessed with cars."
Hammond sighs, shaking his head slightly...but he smirks.
"While that's all very well and 'cute', he's not real. That's just some fantasy you and many other people in this business have come up with. Some little persona you imagine up for yourselves in order to allay your fears. It makes you feel a bit better about yourself, and lulls you into a false sense of security."
Jack chuckles to himself.
"Now I'm not saying I haven't enjoyed playing that part. Sure I do like to joke around, play the part as it were. I also enjoy cars a bit more than your average man, and I suppose that's rather obvious considering the large percentage of my promos cut whilst sitting in the driver's seat of some machine I'm willing to blather on and on about."
He glares at the camera.
"AJ, you have no idea what I'm capable of. But more importantly, I think you have no idea what you're talking about half the time your mouth happens to be open. You claim that you are a different person when it comes to defending your title. And quite frankly, that's got to be the most laughable thing I've ever heard."
Jack smirks, his smile cold and unpleasant.
"You seemed to have deluded yourself into thinking that just because you hold gold AJ, you're given the freedom to make pitiful excuses whenever you lose. But it's just the opposite. Claiming my wins over you were flukes, claiming any wins that anyone's made against you were mere luck...it's inexcusable. You need to go out each night as if you were defending your title. It's almost as if you were saying that since it's not a title match, you're allowed to take it easy and that a loss is nothing big."
Jack sighs and shakes his head.
"A champion does not relax. You hold gold, you put your reputation on the line each time you step into the ring. As a title holder, you don't relax; you've got the eyes of every wrestler in the business watching you each time you step into the ring, waiting for their chance to face and topple you."
He narrows his eyes at the camera.
"I'll make this nice and clear so I'm not misunderstood. Not by you, AJ, nor by anyone else; You don't deserve that title. Your time in the Corporate Empire has been a joke. A stable that is ready to implode. A stable that would gladly toss you out the second you lose that title. I've said it before, but those stuck up prats don't give a flying about your well being. They just care if you've got something around your waist that proves to them you're worth something."
A hollow laugh comes from Hammond's lips.
"AJ, you talk about flaws and focus...and it's time you woke up to your own crippling flaws and your own lack of focus. This Sunday at Road To The Gold, you can stop deluding yourself into believing that you're untouchable."
He shrugs.
"Maybe you will keep your hold on that title. Maybe you will prove that you can best me. But I doubt it. I don't need luck nor confidence to beat you AJ. I don't need to worry about focus or self-doubt. I don't need any of those things when I'm facing someone as lost as you."
Jack glares at the camera a while longer, letting his words sink in, this serious and darker side of his personality seeming to override the more playful half...then suddenly he blinks as his hair seems to be blown about, a soft hum coming over the mic. He grins, his previous mood suddenly vanishing.
"The aircon's working!"
He twiddles with a knob on the dashboard and lets out a long sigh of relief.
"Oh, that's so nice..."
He closes his eyes, enjoying the cool air coming from the vents, smiling with intense satisfaction. He's only broken out of his little ceremony by an exaggerated cough from the sound recordist.
"Oh...uh...well, this Sunday, I go to prove myself. I want so badly to succeed and for once, failure is not something I'm willing to accept..."
He pauses and lets out a lazy grin.
"But I'm more concerned about this air-con right now."
He leans back in the chair and sighs happily, his bad temper seeming to have gone with the heat. The scene fades to black.