Post by Steve Awesome on Oct 30, 2008 13:04:48 GMT -6
At some points it felt like I’d never get there. The drive was only supposed to be about five ten minutes tops, but it felt like forever. Just a hop onto the express way and down a few exits until we got to the airport. I even waited till the last possible second to head that way from the hotel because I knew how hard it was going to be for me to do what I was going to do. Isn’t funny how different you feel when thoughts you never imagined you’d ever think suddenly pop into your head like herpes on Shelly Taylor’s lip.
I tried to take my mind off it during the drive, since I had been thinking about it for weeks already. It should have been easy considering all the expensive things that a guy like me gets included with his limo package. Plasma screen televisions, blu ray DVD players, a bar that included my favorite mind eraser, Jack Daniels. Hell this thing even had a fireplace and a fish tank built into the upholstery. It was pretty easy to lose yourself in this environment, and yet I couldn’t seem to shake these feelings. I reach over and hit the button that lowers the tinted window that separates the driver from the passenger.
“Yo…twat waffle…You think you can drive a little faster?”
I didn’t really need that extra hint of venom in my voice, or the insult, but I’ve been an asshole my entire life, no need to stop now.
“I’m already going ten over sir. I can’t get a speeding ticket or it’ll be my job.”
Heh. This guy acts like I care about his job. That’s funny. I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“Look chief, this is really important to me. I need to be there ASAP or I”LL have your job! You understand me?”
Suddenly, this Pauly Shore looking reject gets a lot more cooperative.
“Yes sir. I understand. We will be there in about five minutes.”
“Good.”
I reach over and tap the button as the window starts to close again. The driver was trying to say something else but I could care less what it was. Then, as soon as the window was completely closed….the thoughts came rushing back to me like waves of water after a dam broke. I kept thinking about what I was going to say when I got there. How it was going to be. Would it even matter? I mean, after all the things that I did, after the Hell I made, would I even get what I wanted? It just seems like an uphill battle for me now. That’s when the goose bumps start to pop up all over my arms and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
I was actually thinking about the consequences.
I was actually thinking that this is something that I’m going to have to fight for if I want it. I’ve never felt this way before you know? Everything in my life has just been handed to me. I had a beautiful car when I turned sixteen. I was put through the best schools, and I had everything before anybody else did. I never had to worry about the things that I did to people, or how it effected them, because it never effected me. I know, it’s pretty selfish, but hey it’s who I am.
The limo pulls right up to the front doors of the airport because I’m special like that. The driver gets himself out of the drivers seat and takes the walk around to my side of the door. He grabs the handle and gives it a tug to open it for me. He takes a step back and holds his free arm outward toward the building.
“Houston Airlines, Sir.”
Wow, thanks. As if I didn’t know that chief.
“Bout damn time!”
I shouted at him. I was taking out my frustrations on him and it wasn’t very fair, but I could care less.
“You would think if you were carting around the champion of the world, you would put a little pepper in your step.”
The limo driver lowers his head. He takes a deep breath as if he were trying to suppress his anger. Good move, because if he got lippy, I’d probably jack slap him across the parking lot.
“I’m terribly sorry sir. Next time, I’ll be sure to bring lots of pepper.”
I detect some sarcasm from that ass swipe. Watch how I handle this guy. I give my best smile and cock my head to the side.
“It’s okay….”
I take a second to read his name tag.
“…Dave….the important thing is you got us here. Friends?”
This guy blinks a few times in disbelief. Apparently he’s herd of me before.
“Yeah, sure. That would be great.”
“Cool. High five?”
I put my hand up in the air motioning for him to slap mine, and as soon as Dave reaches up to touch my palm, I take my other hand and blast him in the package. Dave falls down like a sack of bricks, moaning and holding his area in pain. Meanwhile, all I do is laugh. I kneel down next to him and shake my head.
“I could never be friends with a joke like you Dave. And the next time you make me late for something I’ll do more than pull an Xavier on you, you got that? Good.”
I shut the door to the limo and place my foot directly onto Dave’s chest and step over him. As I walk into the airport, some chicks were staring at me. Probably because of how sexy I am, or something. Anyways, once inside, I head over to the gate I’m supposed to be in. The thoughts, the worried feelings, everything all rushing back to me like a herd of buffalo in the wild. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I get there. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it and let me tell you that all the thoughts…all of it seemed to get worse….
…as soon as I saw…”her”…
It’s raining. It’s cold. You can see his breath in the air whenever he opens his mouth. He’s the world champion. His long black hair lost inside a grey hood. You can see his green eyes but the shadow over them gives off this feeling like an animal staring back at you from inside its cave. He’s standing somewhere in some kind of parking garage and it appears to be night. Only a few cars still parked in this garage and the only people in the building are Steve Awesome…and the camera man.
“You know, I was sitting back the other day. I was enjoying myself, feeling like I was on top of the world like I always do. I was sipping back on my Arnold Palmer, not a care in the world. Not a single one. I wasn’t feeling like I should be sweating anybody, I didn’t feel like I should have been angry about anything. I was mentally preparing for this match at Mind Games against Angel. I already have Ace taken care of, thanks to Kole’s deal with Trent. I never thought I’d ever see Trent’s quasi moto looking face again let alone ever work with him again but there he was in front me last Collision. Kole making the business deal of a lifetime with Trent Helms. I didn’t like it….I STILL don’t like it, but hey, you know what? That’s business. That’s what happens.
Awesome starts to pace back and forth as he continues to speak.
But I wasn’t going to let that bother me. I’d deal with Trent whenever I’d deal with Trent. So now it was time to just sit back and wait for my match at Mind Games. Where I take Angel’s hopes and his dreams and I crush them.
He brings his hands up to about chest level and he stares at them. They shake with intensity as they slowly form into fists.
I take my bear hands and I wrap them around his throat and I SQUEEZE them out of his lungs, bit by bit!
He just shakes it off a bit and lets his hands drop down to his sides. Not wanting to get angry.
I was just sitting by, watching some old Family Guy episodes on my lap top when all of a sudden, my computer tells me that I’ve got mail. So I check it, and what do I see? I see that Angel has went and put out his first promo. I knew right then in there that I wasn’t going to enjoy what he had to say. I just knew it! But I had no idea….
It starts off well enough. He takes time out of his busy schedule of just lounging around in a church…again….to bad mouth each one of my stable mates. That’s fine. That’s cool. I’m not them. If he wants to waste his time talking about irrelevant **** then be my guest. But then when he finally got to me…..that’s when my ****ing day went bad.
He grins a sarcastic grin. Before spitting out a piece of chewing gum that he had been chewing on.
He’s so sure of himself, you know? He’s the almighty Angel. He can do anything. Beat anybody. He’s savior X, he’s the wrath of God he’s whatever the Hell he wants to call himself this week. But he’s not dealing with just anybody this time. He isn’t facing Kole, or AJ, or Doc. This isn‘t some match against Sexy Jason or JackHammer. He is messing with….
He puts his face directly into the camera. His breath fogging up the camera a bit when he spoke.
THE BEST TODAY!
His yell echoes throughout the car park. He then goes back to pacing.
I mean, it’s not like a statement like that is such a lie you know? I signed my contract in November of last year. And since then…..I’ve been part of everything and I’ve beaten everyone. You name him and I’ve probably beaten them. Adam Knite, Trent Helms, Dave Holland, Lance Ryan, Spike Kane, Brad Kane……at one point in time, they’ve all fallen at my feet. No tag team matches, just one on one. Then…not even a year later…hell barely six months and I’m fighting for world championships? I became one of the richest men, one of the most sought after men, everybody and there brother wants to come here to try and beat me and somewhere within all of that I became this hated man.
And that’s the thing that pissed ME off.
They could have loved me.
I look at a guy like Angel who is pretty much me except he has a bad hair cut and he isn’t as wealthy. He cracks the same jokes, thinks he’s pretty much better than everybody he steps in the ring with. Thinks that everything he’s done is some sort of match of the year. Let me tell you something, a CZW reject match is not a match of the year by any means. But yet these people, these parasitic creatures who infest the stands every Sunday night to watch us wanna cheer for this guy and they wanna hate me. Why? Because I have goals? Because I worked hard to become this rich and now I tend to brag about it? Because in my own personal life I tend to make bad decisions? Or is it because I don’t care about anybody but myself?
He slowly shakes his head.
Do you know why that is? Because even if I walked out to the ring every night and I danced around for these people and spouted off catchphrases and I did the right things, like shaking hands and respecting people and doing what it took to win…..even if I literally BROKE MY ****ING BACK….for these people…..they wouldn’t care. If I died tomorrow, do you think any of those people would show up to my funeral? No. They wouldn’t. All you’d get would be my mother crying in my fathers arms while they asked themselves repeatedly, why there son put himself through all of this for nothing.
He goes silent again. He looks away from the camera as if the shear thought of that moment was stopping him from uttering anymore words.
“So you know what…excuse me if I went a little heartless. Excuse me if I seem to be a little bitter. Excuse me if I say **** honor, **** respect, **** all that bull**** that doesn’t ever really get you anywhere. Excuse me if I say screw your rules and do things my own way. Everybody in this whole company, people who sit at home and watch…they know how I am. They know what I’m capable of…its YOUR fault you fell for it.
And Angel…..all you can do is bitch about it.
That’s it. That’s all you ever do Angel is bitch, bitch, whine, whine, moan, moan. It’s starting to become a broken record. Blah, blah, blah. You did this to me. Blah, blah, blah. You hit me from behind. Wah, wah, wah…you and The Empire kept attacking me when I wasn’t ready….bitch, bitch, bitch stand up and fight like a man. Whine, whine, whine, I’ve fought hard to make it where I am, and you barely had to do anything.
He smiles and nods.
Yeah, isn’t that a bitch? How easy it is for me to get to the things I want because I walk on my own path. I don’t need to look my own worst fears in the face Angel because I don’t have any. All the things I did to you, or had done to you over the past couple weeks…..it wasn’t because I was afraid of you. It wasn’t because I sweat you Angel. It was because it was just so damn funny to see you get all worked up. It really pissed you off when I told Derek Sitar to ram through your kneecap like a shotgun blast. It really pissed you off when I blasted you with that steel chair and knocked your lights out. And it must have really pissed you off enough that you’d crawl on your hands and knees and recruit the always pathetic Ace and the man you hated three months ago in Xavier just to try and even the odds.
And now that your all good and pissed off Angel, I think I achieved what I was working towards this whole time. That’s right, I wanted you angry Angel. I wanted you to want my blood. I want you to walk down to that ring this Sunday with every intention of trying to end my life.
Do you know why?
Obviously because I not afraid of you.
But because I know that when Angel is at his best…its when he’s out for blood. It’s when he’s pissed off. I watched that cage match with Falcon where you grabbed him by the head and dove off. I watched those matches with Xavier where you damn near killed him twice. That swan dive you were going to do from thirty feet in the air. The way you came back after I beat the Ace at Road to the Gold to try and take care of me then. I know that when Angel is pissed…that’s when he is at his best.
And I want your best Angel. I want you to bring every thing you possibly have.
Because after I beat you at Mind Games…..and retain my world heavyweight championship….
There wont be any excuses.
Static.
I tried to take my mind off it during the drive, since I had been thinking about it for weeks already. It should have been easy considering all the expensive things that a guy like me gets included with his limo package. Plasma screen televisions, blu ray DVD players, a bar that included my favorite mind eraser, Jack Daniels. Hell this thing even had a fireplace and a fish tank built into the upholstery. It was pretty easy to lose yourself in this environment, and yet I couldn’t seem to shake these feelings. I reach over and hit the button that lowers the tinted window that separates the driver from the passenger.
“Yo…twat waffle…You think you can drive a little faster?”
I didn’t really need that extra hint of venom in my voice, or the insult, but I’ve been an asshole my entire life, no need to stop now.
“I’m already going ten over sir. I can’t get a speeding ticket or it’ll be my job.”
Heh. This guy acts like I care about his job. That’s funny. I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“Look chief, this is really important to me. I need to be there ASAP or I”LL have your job! You understand me?”
Suddenly, this Pauly Shore looking reject gets a lot more cooperative.
“Yes sir. I understand. We will be there in about five minutes.”
“Good.”
I reach over and tap the button as the window starts to close again. The driver was trying to say something else but I could care less what it was. Then, as soon as the window was completely closed….the thoughts came rushing back to me like waves of water after a dam broke. I kept thinking about what I was going to say when I got there. How it was going to be. Would it even matter? I mean, after all the things that I did, after the Hell I made, would I even get what I wanted? It just seems like an uphill battle for me now. That’s when the goose bumps start to pop up all over my arms and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
I was actually thinking about the consequences.
I was actually thinking that this is something that I’m going to have to fight for if I want it. I’ve never felt this way before you know? Everything in my life has just been handed to me. I had a beautiful car when I turned sixteen. I was put through the best schools, and I had everything before anybody else did. I never had to worry about the things that I did to people, or how it effected them, because it never effected me. I know, it’s pretty selfish, but hey it’s who I am.
The limo pulls right up to the front doors of the airport because I’m special like that. The driver gets himself out of the drivers seat and takes the walk around to my side of the door. He grabs the handle and gives it a tug to open it for me. He takes a step back and holds his free arm outward toward the building.
“Houston Airlines, Sir.”
Wow, thanks. As if I didn’t know that chief.
“Bout damn time!”
I shouted at him. I was taking out my frustrations on him and it wasn’t very fair, but I could care less.
“You would think if you were carting around the champion of the world, you would put a little pepper in your step.”
The limo driver lowers his head. He takes a deep breath as if he were trying to suppress his anger. Good move, because if he got lippy, I’d probably jack slap him across the parking lot.
“I’m terribly sorry sir. Next time, I’ll be sure to bring lots of pepper.”
I detect some sarcasm from that ass swipe. Watch how I handle this guy. I give my best smile and cock my head to the side.
“It’s okay….”
I take a second to read his name tag.
“…Dave….the important thing is you got us here. Friends?”
This guy blinks a few times in disbelief. Apparently he’s herd of me before.
“Yeah, sure. That would be great.”
“Cool. High five?”
I put my hand up in the air motioning for him to slap mine, and as soon as Dave reaches up to touch my palm, I take my other hand and blast him in the package. Dave falls down like a sack of bricks, moaning and holding his area in pain. Meanwhile, all I do is laugh. I kneel down next to him and shake my head.
“I could never be friends with a joke like you Dave. And the next time you make me late for something I’ll do more than pull an Xavier on you, you got that? Good.”
I shut the door to the limo and place my foot directly onto Dave’s chest and step over him. As I walk into the airport, some chicks were staring at me. Probably because of how sexy I am, or something. Anyways, once inside, I head over to the gate I’m supposed to be in. The thoughts, the worried feelings, everything all rushing back to me like a herd of buffalo in the wild. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I get there. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it and let me tell you that all the thoughts…all of it seemed to get worse….
…as soon as I saw…”her”…
It’s raining. It’s cold. You can see his breath in the air whenever he opens his mouth. He’s the world champion. His long black hair lost inside a grey hood. You can see his green eyes but the shadow over them gives off this feeling like an animal staring back at you from inside its cave. He’s standing somewhere in some kind of parking garage and it appears to be night. Only a few cars still parked in this garage and the only people in the building are Steve Awesome…and the camera man.
“You know, I was sitting back the other day. I was enjoying myself, feeling like I was on top of the world like I always do. I was sipping back on my Arnold Palmer, not a care in the world. Not a single one. I wasn’t feeling like I should be sweating anybody, I didn’t feel like I should have been angry about anything. I was mentally preparing for this match at Mind Games against Angel. I already have Ace taken care of, thanks to Kole’s deal with Trent. I never thought I’d ever see Trent’s quasi moto looking face again let alone ever work with him again but there he was in front me last Collision. Kole making the business deal of a lifetime with Trent Helms. I didn’t like it….I STILL don’t like it, but hey, you know what? That’s business. That’s what happens.
Awesome starts to pace back and forth as he continues to speak.
But I wasn’t going to let that bother me. I’d deal with Trent whenever I’d deal with Trent. So now it was time to just sit back and wait for my match at Mind Games. Where I take Angel’s hopes and his dreams and I crush them.
He brings his hands up to about chest level and he stares at them. They shake with intensity as they slowly form into fists.
I take my bear hands and I wrap them around his throat and I SQUEEZE them out of his lungs, bit by bit!
He just shakes it off a bit and lets his hands drop down to his sides. Not wanting to get angry.
I was just sitting by, watching some old Family Guy episodes on my lap top when all of a sudden, my computer tells me that I’ve got mail. So I check it, and what do I see? I see that Angel has went and put out his first promo. I knew right then in there that I wasn’t going to enjoy what he had to say. I just knew it! But I had no idea….
It starts off well enough. He takes time out of his busy schedule of just lounging around in a church…again….to bad mouth each one of my stable mates. That’s fine. That’s cool. I’m not them. If he wants to waste his time talking about irrelevant **** then be my guest. But then when he finally got to me…..that’s when my ****ing day went bad.
He grins a sarcastic grin. Before spitting out a piece of chewing gum that he had been chewing on.
He’s so sure of himself, you know? He’s the almighty Angel. He can do anything. Beat anybody. He’s savior X, he’s the wrath of God he’s whatever the Hell he wants to call himself this week. But he’s not dealing with just anybody this time. He isn’t facing Kole, or AJ, or Doc. This isn‘t some match against Sexy Jason or JackHammer. He is messing with….
He puts his face directly into the camera. His breath fogging up the camera a bit when he spoke.
THE BEST TODAY!
His yell echoes throughout the car park. He then goes back to pacing.
I mean, it’s not like a statement like that is such a lie you know? I signed my contract in November of last year. And since then…..I’ve been part of everything and I’ve beaten everyone. You name him and I’ve probably beaten them. Adam Knite, Trent Helms, Dave Holland, Lance Ryan, Spike Kane, Brad Kane……at one point in time, they’ve all fallen at my feet. No tag team matches, just one on one. Then…not even a year later…hell barely six months and I’m fighting for world championships? I became one of the richest men, one of the most sought after men, everybody and there brother wants to come here to try and beat me and somewhere within all of that I became this hated man.
And that’s the thing that pissed ME off.
They could have loved me.
I look at a guy like Angel who is pretty much me except he has a bad hair cut and he isn’t as wealthy. He cracks the same jokes, thinks he’s pretty much better than everybody he steps in the ring with. Thinks that everything he’s done is some sort of match of the year. Let me tell you something, a CZW reject match is not a match of the year by any means. But yet these people, these parasitic creatures who infest the stands every Sunday night to watch us wanna cheer for this guy and they wanna hate me. Why? Because I have goals? Because I worked hard to become this rich and now I tend to brag about it? Because in my own personal life I tend to make bad decisions? Or is it because I don’t care about anybody but myself?
He slowly shakes his head.
Do you know why that is? Because even if I walked out to the ring every night and I danced around for these people and spouted off catchphrases and I did the right things, like shaking hands and respecting people and doing what it took to win…..even if I literally BROKE MY ****ING BACK….for these people…..they wouldn’t care. If I died tomorrow, do you think any of those people would show up to my funeral? No. They wouldn’t. All you’d get would be my mother crying in my fathers arms while they asked themselves repeatedly, why there son put himself through all of this for nothing.
He goes silent again. He looks away from the camera as if the shear thought of that moment was stopping him from uttering anymore words.
“So you know what…excuse me if I went a little heartless. Excuse me if I seem to be a little bitter. Excuse me if I say **** honor, **** respect, **** all that bull**** that doesn’t ever really get you anywhere. Excuse me if I say screw your rules and do things my own way. Everybody in this whole company, people who sit at home and watch…they know how I am. They know what I’m capable of…its YOUR fault you fell for it.
And Angel…..all you can do is bitch about it.
That’s it. That’s all you ever do Angel is bitch, bitch, whine, whine, moan, moan. It’s starting to become a broken record. Blah, blah, blah. You did this to me. Blah, blah, blah. You hit me from behind. Wah, wah, wah…you and The Empire kept attacking me when I wasn’t ready….bitch, bitch, bitch stand up and fight like a man. Whine, whine, whine, I’ve fought hard to make it where I am, and you barely had to do anything.
He smiles and nods.
Yeah, isn’t that a bitch? How easy it is for me to get to the things I want because I walk on my own path. I don’t need to look my own worst fears in the face Angel because I don’t have any. All the things I did to you, or had done to you over the past couple weeks…..it wasn’t because I was afraid of you. It wasn’t because I sweat you Angel. It was because it was just so damn funny to see you get all worked up. It really pissed you off when I told Derek Sitar to ram through your kneecap like a shotgun blast. It really pissed you off when I blasted you with that steel chair and knocked your lights out. And it must have really pissed you off enough that you’d crawl on your hands and knees and recruit the always pathetic Ace and the man you hated three months ago in Xavier just to try and even the odds.
And now that your all good and pissed off Angel, I think I achieved what I was working towards this whole time. That’s right, I wanted you angry Angel. I wanted you to want my blood. I want you to walk down to that ring this Sunday with every intention of trying to end my life.
Do you know why?
Obviously because I not afraid of you.
But because I know that when Angel is at his best…its when he’s out for blood. It’s when he’s pissed off. I watched that cage match with Falcon where you grabbed him by the head and dove off. I watched those matches with Xavier where you damn near killed him twice. That swan dive you were going to do from thirty feet in the air. The way you came back after I beat the Ace at Road to the Gold to try and take care of me then. I know that when Angel is pissed…that’s when he is at his best.
And I want your best Angel. I want you to bring every thing you possibly have.
Because after I beat you at Mind Games…..and retain my world heavyweight championship….
There wont be any excuses.
Static.