Post by The GAME on May 16, 2016 7:21:45 GMT
So there I was, in Mexico City, when the world came crashing down all around myself and every member on the roster...
Seth was inside of the ring, not even partway through the episode of Slam, when he came out with several files and tossed them in the air. He claimed they were contracts for every wrestler that had been on the roster, save for one wrestler in particular. He also said he was tossing random contracts into the air, and there were a lot of them. It was only fair to assume that I'd been shit-canned from the WCF, like many others had been after Seth's tantrum.
Sure, I wasn't thrilled about where I was in the company. Working with the most treacherous wrestler to ever lace up boots, and the world's biggest hater/user of racial epitaphs in pro wrestling was not what I wanted to do. But I had made the most of it, was rather successful in the face of the situation, and even earned myself a shot at the Cruiserweight Title at XIII, which I felt I had a good shot at winning. All this despite having to work with some of the most despicable and deplorable wrestlers that I've ever met. I mean, who the hell sells out their partners in an eight-man tag match? All that for some dick?
The whole situation made me quite angry, but there was nothing to do about it, except go home. The dream was over, and even then, the dream was not as great as it was supposed to be. I was used to protect a wrestler, and now he's the ONLY person on the fucking roster now! BULLSHIT!!!
Both Susan and Sammy were also not thrilled at the turn of events. Well, Susan wasn't thrilled about ANY of this. She used to be a huge fan of my wrestling, but as of late, she has begun to change. She seemed more and more worried about my wrestling career, mostly about the fact that I have a wrestling career. She seemed alright with it when it seemed to be just a hobby, and was as happy as I was when I made to move upwards past the Indy scene, but after what Seth had dragged me through, she wanted it to end. Regardless of the fact that I was netting title shots and respect.
Sammy knew what was what, though. Recently retired to train wrestlers before handling my affairs on the road, he understood at this level, you do what you're told, whether you like it or not. It's a job, and just like any other job, you tell the boss to stick it up his ass, and he's going to fire your ass. And barring that due to a contract, will make your life suck hard. He will try to hurt you, humiliate you, anything he can do to make YOU break that contract. Sammy knew that was just the beginning, but for Seth to lose his mind like this? This was something new that Sammy had never seen before.
So the three of them were inside of a hotel room at the Wyndham (which really was worldwide), as I was packing my stuff up in a quick and furious manner. Susan was doing the same, but in a much more calm and collected manner. Sammy was already packed and was now in our room just to talk over the situation, which was not making me feel better about anything that had transpired.
Sammy: This is not the end of the world, James. I mean, Seth was being an asshole to you, and now you're free of that influence. Now you can go elsewhere and maybe not have to work with enormous assholes like The Family...
Susan: That is if anybody wants anybody with the taint of the WCF on them.
Sammy: Feds die all the time, and wrestlers move on. Granted, only two matches into the WCF, but they were pretty impressive matches. Especially considering you were working with the people you were working with? And you picked up the pinfalls in both matches? Somebody's going to be interested and will knock on your door soon enough.
Me: Sammy, I'm sorry that I don't share the same enthusiasm about the situation, but there I was, in early career and catching a groove, when all of a sudden, I just got my career reset all the fuck the way back to the beginning. I just want to pack my shit, get on a plane, and get the hell back to Portland. I'll try to figure out what to do next once we get there.
Susan: I called Natural 20, and they still have your job open if you want it.
Sammy: Another wrestling fed will call soon enough. I wouldn't waste your time on a Joe job.
Susan: Really, Sam? So are you going to pay our bills and rent for the time being?
Me: Even if he said yes, I don't want it. But Susan's probably right. The dream is over, and it's back to reality for me and everyone else here.
Sammy: Bullshit! You're just going to give up? After you proved you have what it takes to hang with rookies and legends in equal measure? I mean, wrestling companies smile on the fact that you were able to work with people that you and everyone else finds despicable backstage as well as on the camera. You guys looked like you were going to go far in Trios, you had the Cruiserweight Title shot. Rival federations are going to see that, see this situation as a windfall in their benefit, and snag you up as soon as they possibly can! THIS DREAM IS NOT OVER, DAMMIT!
I slammed my clothes and other items down into my luggage, as I turned and looked at Sammy with anger in every fiber of my being, to include my voice, as I said...
Me: Right now, I don't give a fuck about rival companies or any of that shit right now!!! All I want to do is go home and try to forget all of this shit happened to being with. Fuck this place, the WCF, Seth Lerch, Logan, Dag, Corey Black, Jayson Price, and whoever the fuck made this bullshit fucking happen!!! Don't know who started it, and don't fucking care!!! All I know is the dream is over and it's time for me to go the fuck back home. To work, to train, to do ANYTHING other than think about this Dumpster fire that just happened. And if you have a problem with me trying to move the fuck on after this disaster, then I kindly suggest you fuck off, before I make you fuck off!
I busted my fucking ass to get to this level, after years and years of hearing "You're too fucking small, James!" "Nobody will take you seriously as a contender, Chevalier!" So when I finally do break into the next level, what happens? This fucking shit happens because of what? Some shitbags wanted to stage a coup to crush a fed that's been around longer than most? And why? Because of some minor disagreements over how shit was ran backstage? Fuck those cocksuckers, too! They can all eat shit and die wherever the fuck they land next!
But me? What am I going to get? More of the same bullshit I've heard for years, only now it'll probably be "You got lucky, Game", or "Seth made you look good, James", and more bullshit to basically keep my ass down in the Indy leagues. And I don't know if I can take that shit anymore.
Maybe Susan is right. Time to go home, get my job back, and hang up the tights and boots. Just because I wanted pro wrestling doesn't mean it wants me back...
I rearranged my items inside of my luggage so that I can close my rolling suitcase, as Sammy sighs and Susan grabs my shoulder, presumably to console me on the issues at hand. I zip the bag up, before I stand up and move towards the door. I then say...
Me: I'll be downstairs waiting for the bus to take me to the airport. Then I'm going home. Sammy, we gave it our best shot, but you want to hold on to this illusion, that is your cross to bear, not mine. Maybe you'll find your next superstar back in Portland, but it probably isn't me, as sad as that makes me.
Sue, let's go home. Guess it's time to grow up and get a real job...
I turned and walked out of the hotel room, as this "dream" I leave behind smolders in the background. It was time for me to pursue other matters in my life. Like college, maybe. Or another viable career. All I know is that barring a miracle of sorts, my career inside of the squared circle is all but done as of this moment...
It was a few days later, and I found myself in a polo shirt and khaki pants inside the familiar setting that was "The Natural 20 Gaming Emporium" in South Portland, Maine. I had managed to get my job back, and was on Day 2 as the assistant manager in the independent gaming store that stays alive because of the soul it possessed. Wizards of the Coast didn't have shit on our soul, to say the least...
I had just got done stocking up on more variations of the "Settlers of Cataan" game that had reached a major population boom over the last few years. Apparently, Ensign Crusher endorsed the hell out of that game, and everyone wanted a piece of it in the gaming community overall. Apparently I look a lot like him, but I don't see much of a resemblance. But I am biased, considering Ensign Crusher was a rather annoying character on TNG.
So after finishing up my stocking tasks, I get an announcement from the store owner Tim Comeau to come to the office for a phone call. It was strange to me, considering I still had my cellphone and had yet to give anybody close to me the work number, save for Susan, who knew it already and was the only person who knew, besides Sammy, that I was working back at the Natural 20.
Maybe it was the WCF, calling to confirm a termination or severance package. That could take the sting out of the sudden collapse of the WCF. Still doesn't give me my career back, so I couldn't be too angry if this was that kind of call. I walked into the office, as Timmy hands me the phone and says...
Timmy: New girlfriend? What happened to...
Me: No new girlfriend. This must be some sort of business. Hello?
: Is this James Wesley Chevalier? Better known as "The Game"?
Me: Once upon a time not too long ago. Who is this?
Nikki Micheals: This is Nikki Micheals, the Chief Executive Officer in charge of Valentine Wrestling Syndicate. How are you doing today?
Me: How did you get this number? Did you talk to Sammy? Is this another prank of his?
Nikki Micheals: No prank, sir, but I did hear about what had happened over at World Championship Federation, and I have to say while I'm not sorry about what had transpired due to our competition, I do feel for the situation that the sudden end had left many within the WCF in a bad place. Especially someone who had as much promise and potential as you did.
Me: Key word is "did". I've talked to a few places since I had left, and all I've got was that Logan carried me, or that I got lucky, or Seth handpicked opponents that would make me look good. So what is your interest in me? You just need a spot monkey to make shows more interesting or something?
Nikki Micheals: We may have been in competition with the WCF, that does not mean we don't watch the product so we know what we're competing with. We know that you worked with several of the more unscrupulous stars of that organization under major protest, but you also managed to be successful while performing with said workers in that organization. That, and seeing where you were in the Trios Tournament and as a competitor for the Cruiserweight Title in said organization, maybe Seth Lerch wasn't as crazy as some would say in regards to your particular character.
Me: Between you and me, I thought Seth was crazy to put me in the situation that I was in. Maybe I did get lucky and pulled off the unthinkable in my short time there.
Nikki Micheals: Some of the other signed talent here that we've managed to salvage from the WCF are inclined to disagree. You're familiar with Sarah Twilight, right?
Me: I've heard of her. Plenty of things, actually, and most of them not good...
Nikki Micheals: She thinks quite highly of your potential in wrestling. Her and Ana may not be very close, but we think Sarah knows talent when she sees it. Especially considering how difficult it is to get her to focus on anybody but herself for very long/.
Me: Well, I guess you can tell Sarah I appreciate the rub, but how are you going to ensure to me this is the real deal?
Nikki Micheals: Do you have an email account? If you do, we're going to email a voucher to fly to Las Vegas, Nevada. It's the site for our next show. Two extra tickets will be provided for your manager and your lady friend, if I heard correctly on your situation. You will also be comped a suite for the three of you, regardless of how the contract negotiations go, before we either hire you on, or send you on your way back to Portland. So what is your email address?
Me: chevaliergames@gmail.com. Spelled C-H-E-V-A-L-I-E-R, followed up with "games".
Nikki Micheals: Thank you. I'll hold once you verify the email. Are you near a computer?
I was, but Tim was on it right now. He looked to be playing "Words with Friends" on the computer, and looked like he wasn't going to be done anytime soon. I then say to him...
Me: Can I check my email real quick?
Timmy: Dude, use the computer out at the desk. Unless it's porn. Did that chick send nudies of herself to you?
I gave him a dirty look that was to the negative of what he was hoping for. He shook his head, but gestured for me to just use the computer at the checkout counter. I transferred the call out to that desk and asked Nikki to please hold for a few moments. After checking the register to the airport in Portland, I knew this was the real deal.
My heart started racing, as I knew that barring some bullshit deal, I was back in. Sammy was right, and I felt kind of stupid right now. But how was Susan going to take this? Was she going to get all emotional again? What was her deal, as of late? She used to be much more supportive, but now she seems content for me to be miserable not following my dream. Was this what women did? Kill the dreams of men?
I put all of those questions aside, as I picked up the phone and said...
Me: Nikki Michaels?
Nikki Micheals: Still here. Did you verify the flight?
Me: Yes. Barring any snags, it looks like we'll be seeing you a few days from now at the T-Mobile Arena.
Nikki Micheals: Looking forward to it...
I hung up the phone, as I looked over to see Teddy leaning on the counter, shaking his head. He says...
Teddy: Out to chase your wrestling dream again? I take it you don't have time to give me notice, as well?
Me: I'm sorry Ted, but I have to do what's best for everyone here. You know I love working here, but after the WCF...
Teddy: I know. I saw you on that show. And after what happened, you do have something to prove. I'm not going to stand in the way of that. But whatever happens, you always have a job here. Whatever happens.
Me: Thanks, Ted. That means a lot.
I took off the company polo and handed it to Ted. I then told him that I'll have to return the khakis along with the rest of my shirts at a later time. As I walked out in my khakis and a "Know your Mushrooms" t-shirt, a regular who saw everything goes up to Ted and says...
Regular: What's that all about? He quit or did you fire him?
Teddy: He's going pro once again.
Regular: FOR REAL?!?!? YOU SAYIN' THE GAME IS BACK IN THE GAME? HELL YEAH!!! HEY GUYS!!! GAME IS BACK IN THE GAME, YO!!!
The store blew up into a roar over that, but I didn't stick around to celebrate with my newly found fans. I had way too much going on inside of my head. I had to apologize to Sammy, get Susan on board, and hope like hell I don't get fucked over on this upcoming contract. But yes, as the regular had put it.
I was back in The Game...
A few days later, and we were getting our grub on at the MGM Grand buffet table after an excellent gaming session in the casino, courtesy of the bonus signing money that I received by signing the contract with VWS. And of course, my management team got a decent slice of that along with my future earnings. But I'd rather not quibble over details of my contract, but would rather talk about the aftermath of said negotiation.
First off, there seemed to be quite a bit of hostility from Ana Valentine, a former WCF alumnus, but a bitter one. You would figure she would take wrestlers wherever she could get them, but negotiations were tense, considering that I once worked with Logan. Never mind that it was a working relationship built off of my reluctance, but trying to tell her that? I would have had a more meaningful conversation with a bag of fleas on the nuances of not spreading the Black Plague.
This was one of many subjects reflected upon at the buffet, along with other issues and future concerns that will come to the forefront soon enough. But our conversation started out with myself sitting down after grabbing myself some Sweet & Sour chicken and white rice. Sammy came back with some prime rib, plenty of mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn. What surprised me was all the food that Susan brought back. It seemed to be a little bit of everything, but it amounted up to a LOT of food. Sammy stepped on that landmine as he said...
Sammy: Jeez Sue! Have you not ate since we came here from Portland?
Susan: I've just had a lot of weird cravings, and... Wow, I did get a lot of food, didn't I?
Sammy: Especially when it came to the dessert tray. Pumpkin pie, chocolate mousse cake, creme brule? Do you not feed her, James?
Me: I'm not going to talk about the eating habits of my special lady. So how did everyone do? I won a grand at roulette, betting on Red.
Sammy: Living dangerously against the advice of Wesley Snipes, eh? Yeah, I'm about $200 in the hole at blackjack. Hopefully the ponies or the puppies bring me better luck.
Susan: I'm about $300 up on slots. Of course, that's when my bladder doesn't scream at me every five minutes!
Sammy: You gotta lay off of the free beverages, then. That's what that sounds like to me.
Susan: Actually, the coffee is pretty gross, so I've been laying off of it.
Me: Yeah, it's pretty gross. Hence why I've stuck to Coke.
Sammy: Be careful loading up on that empty sugar. This match is huge. I'm actually quite surprised you got a contendership match so quick. Maybe they see things in you like Seth did...
Me: Or it's a trial by fire, and if I fail, I'm stuck in midcard hell for the duration of my career here.
Sammy: Well, it is a midcard title, so...
Me: Yeah, but I got to start somewhere. But this is a bit quick. I mean, I got handed the Cruiserweight Title because Kaz had to leave, and Trios was a team effort...
Sammy: Again, I think maybe they have some expectations due to what you were able to do in WCF...
Me: You mean what little I was able to do...
Sammy: Semantics. But I looked up your competition for this match, and neither of them are anything special.
Me: Oh, please do tell who they are. Is it Logan and Dag? That would be just so fucking poetic...
Sammy: It's even better than that. It's some idiot fratboy with two cheerleaders that call themselves "The Douche Squad" or some shit like that. That, and some MMA wannabe who thinks he's tough. He's kind of an asshole, too.
Me: "Douche Squad"? Well, that kind of defeats the purpose of even calling them what they are. They already know they're assholes. But MMA guy? Like what? Is he a BJJ expert? Because that could get ugly if either of us fucks up in that ring...
Sammy: No, he's a "hit a guy into submission" type of guy. Last week, he passed out in a match against Avery Miles the 3rd, after beating the hell outta the guy all night long. His grappling is lacking, to say the least.
Me: Wow. Passed out? From a submission hold?
Sammy: It was an "I Quit" match.
Me: So he's got some grit to him. What about the Douche Bag, or whatever he calls himself?
Sammy: Him and one of his cheerleaders won some Intergender tag match. Quite easily, I may add...
Me: Well, he's got no partner in this match to bail him out if shit goes tits-up for him, does he? That's good for us...
Sammy: But he still has those cheerleaders at ringside. Who knows what kind of shit they're going to cause to get him the win?
Me: But that's why you come down to the ring with me, is it not? To stop assholes from coming into the ring when they don't have real business in there, to begin with?
Sammy: Yeah, when I can. But two trifling women? I mean, with a name like "Douche Patrol" or whatever it is they're calling themselves, I can just imagine the shit they're going to stir during the match. Will I be able to contain that shit?
Me: Hope so. Or else I get all of this hype for nothing. And my hype reflects directly on to you and your abilities as a trainer. Think about it, if I was able to pull this shit off, you know how many people are going to want to be trained by you? I mean, you're going to become a pretty big deal!
Sammy: You're not the first guy I've trained who's made it big. George Murdock, you remember him?
Me: He trained at your gym for a few months 10 years ago!
Sammy: Yeah, but his Hardcore game was shit until I worked with him on it. I consider myself one of his biggest contributors as a result of my training. But yes, you'd be my first home-grown superstar out of my gym. One that I trained in every aspect I possibly could to get you where you are today.
Susan: DAMMIT! I gotta pee again. Excuse me...
Susan gets up and leaves the table quickly. Both men look at each other, as Sammy says...
Sammy: Is she okay?
Me: She's been moody as hell for awhile now. You think the travelling has made her ill?
Sammy: I dunno. We're all insured now, so maybe she needs to visit a doctor or something. So yeah, you also have an interview with Farrah Tomlin before the big match. Almost forgot to tell you about that.
Me: Great, an interview...
Sammy: Yeah, I know how you feel about them. Especially since the wrestling world is in an uproar right now about the WCF and everything. She's probably going to ask you questions about that. Just try and keep calm while you answer the questions. And maybe steer the interview away from that Dumpster fire, if possible.
Me: Oh, I planned on it. I'll do anything to try and get as much distance from the WCF. I mean, look at what they had me doing the whole time! Seth just had me protecting his interests the whole damn time. Then he fires me and the roster because we don't agree with most of the shit he's been doing?
Sammy: And that's the shit that does not need to be repeated. Because shit may look bad for the WCF, but Seth is rich as all sin, and will probably find a way to rebuild, if he hasn't done so already...
Susan then comes back to the table, as we quickly change the subject away from the WCF. Susan was not only sore about the treatment, but had been quite vocal against the same organization for quite some time now. For the most part, she seemed happy so far in VWS, and I wanted it to be that way for as long as I could possibly make that happen...
So here I was, standing next to Farrah Tomlin for my interview. She seemed quite shocked that I wasn't a skyscraper of a wrestler that she normally interviews, nor a burly guy that could be a poster child for steroid abuse. For some reason, it seemed quite shocking to her before we were set for filming and microphone checks, but I tried not to let her attitude stop me from thinking about what she was going to ask me.
A few moments more, and a director counted down before we were to go live for the interview. As the red light went on to indicate we were on the air, she started her interview with...
Farrah Tomlin: Good evening to the fans of Valentine Wrestling Syndicate worldwide! Tonight I have the dubious honor of interviewing one of our most recent additions to the VWS roster, who happens to also be a refugee from the recently failed World Championship Federation wrestling promotion that was a direct rival to our own show! I give you none other than rookie extraordinaire James "The Game" Chevalier. How are you doing so far in your stay with the VWS?
Me: I have no complaints, so far. Everyone has been rather supportive, other than this creepy Lilith woman who's been stalking me on Twitter.
Farrah Tomlin: Another WCF refugee bothering you? Say it isn't so.
Me: She was in the WCF? She must've gotten fired or something before I joined that roster. But other than that, I'm quite surprised at the reception I've received since signing a contract with VWS.
Farrah Tomlin: Well, it seems that you're receiving the same treatment here as you did in the WCF. Title contendership match in your debut match? Against established VWS roster members in Kellen Klein and Cable Arcane. Care to comment on this?
Me: I don't make the matches, I just wrestle in them. But to insinuate that I'm getting special treatment? Do you have a problem with the booking? Because if you do, you should take it up with the person who books the matches, and not me.
Farrah Tomlin: Well, Seth Lerch made it no secret that he hand-selected you to be the third member of The Family in the Trios tournament, and while you've proven to be worthwhile in tag matches, this is your first professional match where you are not a tag wrestler, but rather a singles competitor. Some would say you don't have the experience to be in a match of this caliber, to include myself. What do you have to say about that?
Me: First of all, you're making comparisons of what I did in the WCF to what I'm expected to do here in the VWS. Did Seth Lerch hand-pick me to protect Logan? I dunno, he probably did. So what does that say about my ability? Or better yet, his faith in my ability? It speaks volumes. Especially considering that I'm being booked in this match my first time out. I guess that should speak volumes about the faith that Ms. Valentine and Ms. Micheals have in regards to my ability in the ring. All I can say is that I do not disappoint, either them or the fans this evening before I step into the ring with Mr. Arcane or Mr. Klein.
Farrah Tomlin: I just cannot seem to wrap my head around this, is all. Have you considered that you're being set up for failure...
Me: I have considered that, but let me make something clear before you continue to attack me with questions that have nothing to do with the match at hand.
Was I given opportunities in the WCF that may have been questionable? I was, and I'll be the first person to admit to it. I was just as baffled as you when I heard that I was to compete for a chance to become the number 1 contender for the Velocity Title. But what am I going to do about it? Cry? Whine? Bitch? Piss? Or moan about it? How about "None of the Above"?
I've considered that maybe I am getting set up for failure because I know about the issues that Ms. Valentine has had with the WCF. She also knows that I worked with someone that I know she hates with the heat of 1,000 suns, but I made it pretty fucking clear that I did NOT enjoy working with that treacherous scumbag or his shitbag racist stepbrother, or whatever the fuck they were supposed to be to each other...
Farrah Tomlin: This is live! You can't be cussing...
Me: You pushed me into this line of questioning, so I want to make it as clear as crystal as to how I feel. If that means putting that bleeper thing to work, then so fucking be it! Live with the consequences of where you pushed me, you uppity bitch!
As a matter of fact, let's talk about something that's more relevant than where I was before I was booked into a match that you think I have no business being in! Like my opponents! We got Calvin Klein of "The Douchebag Nation" or whatever the hell its called! I looked into this guy, and all I could find on him is that he's some sort of moron fratboy who thinks Krav Maga is some sort of Indian culinary dish, even though his name sounds pretty Jewish to me! I mean, I don't want to make assumptions about his ethnicity or religion, but how dumb is this guy? How the hell did HE get into this match? Are you going to question that? Or was his tag victory last week able justify his existence in this match? I mean, you want to question my credentials, why not his? Or this Cable Arcane guy, for that matter?
Yes, let's talk about Cable Arcane, the MMA reject who finds solace in professional wrestling because he can't fucking hack it in a REAL MMA competition! He's unable to hack it there, so he comes to pro wrestling with the intent to beat us all into bloody pulps? Well how did that shit work out for him last week? Why are you not calling his credentials into question coming into this match-up? Because he passed out rather than to utter those dreadful words of "I QUIT" last week? Either way you slice the cake, he lost his match against Avery the Third, or whatever the hell his name is. Why are you NOT asking these questions? Is it so you can try to discredit me because I'm the "New Guy"? Or is it because I'm a WCF Refugee, as you so eloquently put it earlier? Or do you just enjoy being an asshole, and assumed I'm just some meek geek who you can walk the fuck all over?
Her face was priceless. It was a mix of shock, anger, sadness, and all sorts of emotions that just screamed "I just fucked with the wrong guy."
I let that pause hang in the air for a bit longer, expecting her to fire back, but it seemed that I had taken away all of her ammunition that she wanted to use against me. Her attempts to discredit me were shot all to hell, so she just stood there like a knob, before I said...
Me: But you're right about one thing. My experience level. It's not all that extensive. But I've busted my ass for 8 goddamn years to get to this level. I have made it to this level despite so many naysayers over the years. I mean, you know how many executives and interviewers just like you said that I don't have what it takes? You've said it, but you aren't saying anything to me that I haven't heard before. If anything, all of you are starting to sound like broken records to me. Here's an idea, why don't you come up with something else to ask me? Or is that all you got to say against me?
The bottom line is this; I'm in this match. As much as you dislike it, I don't give a shit what you like or feel about it. Hell, I'll go ahead and say I may not agree with this match, either. Just on the principle of just how much actual experience I have at this level of professional wrestling!
But it isn't going to stop me from competing in this match! I'm going to go out there and make it my absolute mission to make either this drunken moron fratboy or this MMA failure to either Rage Quit, or ensure they meet the fate of an absolute Game Over. Then after that, when my hand is raised the victor of the match, much to your anger or whatever the hell you want to feel about it, then the next guy in line will be Landon Dalmon, who I'll make it a mission to ensure he meets the same fate as these two clowns tonight, while I relieve him of his golden belt that he's become quite fond of since winning it two weeks ago. But I'm sure you have something objectionable to say about that now, don't you?
Again the pause. All I got was a dirty look, but no words, so I said...
Me: I didn't fucking think so. I'll see you after the match. Hope you got better questions for me the next time around...
I walked off of the set, as I saw Sammy just full of smiles at my responses towards Farrah Tomlin and her attempts to discredit me right from the get go. I didn't even bother with a response, because I had more important things to do, like prepare for the match that was coming up very soon.
Kellen Klein, to whom I thought his name was Calvin, for some strange reason, was a person to be concerned with. A fan favorite, but mostly because he's a douchebag that everyone enjoys watching make an absolute ass of himself. That, and his entourage was something worth looking at. Yes, I know that Susan was quite a dish herself, but I can look. I'm still a man, and I can appreciate a good-looking woman when I see one. Even Farrah was pleasant to gaze at, though she proved she is not to be trusted in regards to giving a proper interview, at least in regards to myself. Hopefully that changes after tonight.
But I digressed in regards to Kellen Klein, because the concern was the women he surrounded himself with. Were they going to pull something off and try to steal the win? That's about the ONLY real fear I had of him, because fundamentally he was not the most sound guy I've ever faced off against. He was all muscle and athleticism, but zero intelligence in the ring. And against myself and Arcane, that would normally spell doom for a guy like that. It was the ladies of "Douche Nation" that was his real strength in this match.
Then there was Cable Arcane, and what a pleasant guy he is. Oh, who was I kidding? He was a sadistic, brutal asshole who just wanted to hurt people by punching them, rather than use any discernible wrestling skills and techniques! I still stand by what I said in regards to him and MMA. He couldn't hack it as an MMA competitor, so he came to pro wrestling with his shitty attitude and with the intention of hurting us "fake fighters" to make himself feel good.
Well, he's about to find out that you can't cheat gravity, especially when I come raining down on his head and I bring him the "Game Over" that will make him wish he'd done anything else than step foot inside a wrestling ring. Especially when it'll be two weeks in a row he's been made to look bad as a result of his bourgeois attitude against professional wrestlers. But then again, that ruthless and gritty attitude that he possessed could win him the day, if he's able to ride the storm out against myself and Kellen Klein's Bimbo Squad.
Either way, despite my lack of experience, my size compared to these two, and all the other factors against me coming into this match, it was not going to stop me from doing my job. If anything, my job was clear, which was to play the "spoiler" to every doubter, critic, and cynic in Vegas and the world in regards to my size and abilities. After all, it wasn't ever about the size of the dog in the fight, but rather the size of the fight in the dog, and I have loads of fight to bring to these two.
But after being in the fire that was the collapse of the WCF, I've now come out through the fire to find this opportunity waiting for me. And I'll be damned if I just lay down and die because I'm considered the underdog scum of the Earth because of who I am or where I came from. Now it was time to stick it to these assholes, and I'm going to make it my mission to make every fucking person here to eat their words in regards to the negative feedback that I've received as a competitor.
It was time to take these clowns through the fire that forged me. And they'll either stand the heat, or burn to the ground. I'm hoping for the latter...
Seth was inside of the ring, not even partway through the episode of Slam, when he came out with several files and tossed them in the air. He claimed they were contracts for every wrestler that had been on the roster, save for one wrestler in particular. He also said he was tossing random contracts into the air, and there were a lot of them. It was only fair to assume that I'd been shit-canned from the WCF, like many others had been after Seth's tantrum.
Sure, I wasn't thrilled about where I was in the company. Working with the most treacherous wrestler to ever lace up boots, and the world's biggest hater/user of racial epitaphs in pro wrestling was not what I wanted to do. But I had made the most of it, was rather successful in the face of the situation, and even earned myself a shot at the Cruiserweight Title at XIII, which I felt I had a good shot at winning. All this despite having to work with some of the most despicable and deplorable wrestlers that I've ever met. I mean, who the hell sells out their partners in an eight-man tag match? All that for some dick?
The whole situation made me quite angry, but there was nothing to do about it, except go home. The dream was over, and even then, the dream was not as great as it was supposed to be. I was used to protect a wrestler, and now he's the ONLY person on the fucking roster now! BULLSHIT!!!
Both Susan and Sammy were also not thrilled at the turn of events. Well, Susan wasn't thrilled about ANY of this. She used to be a huge fan of my wrestling, but as of late, she has begun to change. She seemed more and more worried about my wrestling career, mostly about the fact that I have a wrestling career. She seemed alright with it when it seemed to be just a hobby, and was as happy as I was when I made to move upwards past the Indy scene, but after what Seth had dragged me through, she wanted it to end. Regardless of the fact that I was netting title shots and respect.
Sammy knew what was what, though. Recently retired to train wrestlers before handling my affairs on the road, he understood at this level, you do what you're told, whether you like it or not. It's a job, and just like any other job, you tell the boss to stick it up his ass, and he's going to fire your ass. And barring that due to a contract, will make your life suck hard. He will try to hurt you, humiliate you, anything he can do to make YOU break that contract. Sammy knew that was just the beginning, but for Seth to lose his mind like this? This was something new that Sammy had never seen before.
So the three of them were inside of a hotel room at the Wyndham (which really was worldwide), as I was packing my stuff up in a quick and furious manner. Susan was doing the same, but in a much more calm and collected manner. Sammy was already packed and was now in our room just to talk over the situation, which was not making me feel better about anything that had transpired.
Sammy: This is not the end of the world, James. I mean, Seth was being an asshole to you, and now you're free of that influence. Now you can go elsewhere and maybe not have to work with enormous assholes like The Family...
Susan: That is if anybody wants anybody with the taint of the WCF on them.
Sammy: Feds die all the time, and wrestlers move on. Granted, only two matches into the WCF, but they were pretty impressive matches. Especially considering you were working with the people you were working with? And you picked up the pinfalls in both matches? Somebody's going to be interested and will knock on your door soon enough.
Me: Sammy, I'm sorry that I don't share the same enthusiasm about the situation, but there I was, in early career and catching a groove, when all of a sudden, I just got my career reset all the fuck the way back to the beginning. I just want to pack my shit, get on a plane, and get the hell back to Portland. I'll try to figure out what to do next once we get there.
Susan: I called Natural 20, and they still have your job open if you want it.
Sammy: Another wrestling fed will call soon enough. I wouldn't waste your time on a Joe job.
Susan: Really, Sam? So are you going to pay our bills and rent for the time being?
Me: Even if he said yes, I don't want it. But Susan's probably right. The dream is over, and it's back to reality for me and everyone else here.
Sammy: Bullshit! You're just going to give up? After you proved you have what it takes to hang with rookies and legends in equal measure? I mean, wrestling companies smile on the fact that you were able to work with people that you and everyone else finds despicable backstage as well as on the camera. You guys looked like you were going to go far in Trios, you had the Cruiserweight Title shot. Rival federations are going to see that, see this situation as a windfall in their benefit, and snag you up as soon as they possibly can! THIS DREAM IS NOT OVER, DAMMIT!
I slammed my clothes and other items down into my luggage, as I turned and looked at Sammy with anger in every fiber of my being, to include my voice, as I said...
Me: Right now, I don't give a fuck about rival companies or any of that shit right now!!! All I want to do is go home and try to forget all of this shit happened to being with. Fuck this place, the WCF, Seth Lerch, Logan, Dag, Corey Black, Jayson Price, and whoever the fuck made this bullshit fucking happen!!! Don't know who started it, and don't fucking care!!! All I know is the dream is over and it's time for me to go the fuck back home. To work, to train, to do ANYTHING other than think about this Dumpster fire that just happened. And if you have a problem with me trying to move the fuck on after this disaster, then I kindly suggest you fuck off, before I make you fuck off!
I busted my fucking ass to get to this level, after years and years of hearing "You're too fucking small, James!" "Nobody will take you seriously as a contender, Chevalier!" So when I finally do break into the next level, what happens? This fucking shit happens because of what? Some shitbags wanted to stage a coup to crush a fed that's been around longer than most? And why? Because of some minor disagreements over how shit was ran backstage? Fuck those cocksuckers, too! They can all eat shit and die wherever the fuck they land next!
But me? What am I going to get? More of the same bullshit I've heard for years, only now it'll probably be "You got lucky, Game", or "Seth made you look good, James", and more bullshit to basically keep my ass down in the Indy leagues. And I don't know if I can take that shit anymore.
Maybe Susan is right. Time to go home, get my job back, and hang up the tights and boots. Just because I wanted pro wrestling doesn't mean it wants me back...
I rearranged my items inside of my luggage so that I can close my rolling suitcase, as Sammy sighs and Susan grabs my shoulder, presumably to console me on the issues at hand. I zip the bag up, before I stand up and move towards the door. I then say...
Me: I'll be downstairs waiting for the bus to take me to the airport. Then I'm going home. Sammy, we gave it our best shot, but you want to hold on to this illusion, that is your cross to bear, not mine. Maybe you'll find your next superstar back in Portland, but it probably isn't me, as sad as that makes me.
Sue, let's go home. Guess it's time to grow up and get a real job...
I turned and walked out of the hotel room, as this "dream" I leave behind smolders in the background. It was time for me to pursue other matters in my life. Like college, maybe. Or another viable career. All I know is that barring a miracle of sorts, my career inside of the squared circle is all but done as of this moment...
It was a few days later, and I found myself in a polo shirt and khaki pants inside the familiar setting that was "The Natural 20 Gaming Emporium" in South Portland, Maine. I had managed to get my job back, and was on Day 2 as the assistant manager in the independent gaming store that stays alive because of the soul it possessed. Wizards of the Coast didn't have shit on our soul, to say the least...
I had just got done stocking up on more variations of the "Settlers of Cataan" game that had reached a major population boom over the last few years. Apparently, Ensign Crusher endorsed the hell out of that game, and everyone wanted a piece of it in the gaming community overall. Apparently I look a lot like him, but I don't see much of a resemblance. But I am biased, considering Ensign Crusher was a rather annoying character on TNG.
So after finishing up my stocking tasks, I get an announcement from the store owner Tim Comeau to come to the office for a phone call. It was strange to me, considering I still had my cellphone and had yet to give anybody close to me the work number, save for Susan, who knew it already and was the only person who knew, besides Sammy, that I was working back at the Natural 20.
Maybe it was the WCF, calling to confirm a termination or severance package. That could take the sting out of the sudden collapse of the WCF. Still doesn't give me my career back, so I couldn't be too angry if this was that kind of call. I walked into the office, as Timmy hands me the phone and says...
Timmy: New girlfriend? What happened to...
Me: No new girlfriend. This must be some sort of business. Hello?
: Is this James Wesley Chevalier? Better known as "The Game"?Me: Once upon a time not too long ago. Who is this?
Nikki Micheals: This is Nikki Micheals, the Chief Executive Officer in charge of Valentine Wrestling Syndicate. How are you doing today?
Me: How did you get this number? Did you talk to Sammy? Is this another prank of his?
Nikki Micheals: No prank, sir, but I did hear about what had happened over at World Championship Federation, and I have to say while I'm not sorry about what had transpired due to our competition, I do feel for the situation that the sudden end had left many within the WCF in a bad place. Especially someone who had as much promise and potential as you did.
Me: Key word is "did". I've talked to a few places since I had left, and all I've got was that Logan carried me, or that I got lucky, or Seth handpicked opponents that would make me look good. So what is your interest in me? You just need a spot monkey to make shows more interesting or something?
Nikki Micheals: We may have been in competition with the WCF, that does not mean we don't watch the product so we know what we're competing with. We know that you worked with several of the more unscrupulous stars of that organization under major protest, but you also managed to be successful while performing with said workers in that organization. That, and seeing where you were in the Trios Tournament and as a competitor for the Cruiserweight Title in said organization, maybe Seth Lerch wasn't as crazy as some would say in regards to your particular character.
Me: Between you and me, I thought Seth was crazy to put me in the situation that I was in. Maybe I did get lucky and pulled off the unthinkable in my short time there.
Nikki Micheals: Some of the other signed talent here that we've managed to salvage from the WCF are inclined to disagree. You're familiar with Sarah Twilight, right?
Me: I've heard of her. Plenty of things, actually, and most of them not good...
Nikki Micheals: She thinks quite highly of your potential in wrestling. Her and Ana may not be very close, but we think Sarah knows talent when she sees it. Especially considering how difficult it is to get her to focus on anybody but herself for very long/.
Me: Well, I guess you can tell Sarah I appreciate the rub, but how are you going to ensure to me this is the real deal?
Nikki Micheals: Do you have an email account? If you do, we're going to email a voucher to fly to Las Vegas, Nevada. It's the site for our next show. Two extra tickets will be provided for your manager and your lady friend, if I heard correctly on your situation. You will also be comped a suite for the three of you, regardless of how the contract negotiations go, before we either hire you on, or send you on your way back to Portland. So what is your email address?
Me: chevaliergames@gmail.com. Spelled C-H-E-V-A-L-I-E-R, followed up with "games".
Nikki Micheals: Thank you. I'll hold once you verify the email. Are you near a computer?
I was, but Tim was on it right now. He looked to be playing "Words with Friends" on the computer, and looked like he wasn't going to be done anytime soon. I then say to him...
Me: Can I check my email real quick?
Timmy: Dude, use the computer out at the desk. Unless it's porn. Did that chick send nudies of herself to you?
I gave him a dirty look that was to the negative of what he was hoping for. He shook his head, but gestured for me to just use the computer at the checkout counter. I transferred the call out to that desk and asked Nikki to please hold for a few moments. After checking the register to the airport in Portland, I knew this was the real deal.
My heart started racing, as I knew that barring some bullshit deal, I was back in. Sammy was right, and I felt kind of stupid right now. But how was Susan going to take this? Was she going to get all emotional again? What was her deal, as of late? She used to be much more supportive, but now she seems content for me to be miserable not following my dream. Was this what women did? Kill the dreams of men?
I put all of those questions aside, as I picked up the phone and said...
Me: Nikki Michaels?
Nikki Micheals: Still here. Did you verify the flight?
Me: Yes. Barring any snags, it looks like we'll be seeing you a few days from now at the T-Mobile Arena.
Nikki Micheals: Looking forward to it...
I hung up the phone, as I looked over to see Teddy leaning on the counter, shaking his head. He says...
Teddy: Out to chase your wrestling dream again? I take it you don't have time to give me notice, as well?
Me: I'm sorry Ted, but I have to do what's best for everyone here. You know I love working here, but after the WCF...
Teddy: I know. I saw you on that show. And after what happened, you do have something to prove. I'm not going to stand in the way of that. But whatever happens, you always have a job here. Whatever happens.
Me: Thanks, Ted. That means a lot.
I took off the company polo and handed it to Ted. I then told him that I'll have to return the khakis along with the rest of my shirts at a later time. As I walked out in my khakis and a "Know your Mushrooms" t-shirt, a regular who saw everything goes up to Ted and says...
Regular: What's that all about? He quit or did you fire him?
Teddy: He's going pro once again.
Regular: FOR REAL?!?!? YOU SAYIN' THE GAME IS BACK IN THE GAME? HELL YEAH!!! HEY GUYS!!! GAME IS BACK IN THE GAME, YO!!!
The store blew up into a roar over that, but I didn't stick around to celebrate with my newly found fans. I had way too much going on inside of my head. I had to apologize to Sammy, get Susan on board, and hope like hell I don't get fucked over on this upcoming contract. But yes, as the regular had put it.
I was back in The Game...
A few days later, and we were getting our grub on at the MGM Grand buffet table after an excellent gaming session in the casino, courtesy of the bonus signing money that I received by signing the contract with VWS. And of course, my management team got a decent slice of that along with my future earnings. But I'd rather not quibble over details of my contract, but would rather talk about the aftermath of said negotiation.
First off, there seemed to be quite a bit of hostility from Ana Valentine, a former WCF alumnus, but a bitter one. You would figure she would take wrestlers wherever she could get them, but negotiations were tense, considering that I once worked with Logan. Never mind that it was a working relationship built off of my reluctance, but trying to tell her that? I would have had a more meaningful conversation with a bag of fleas on the nuances of not spreading the Black Plague.
This was one of many subjects reflected upon at the buffet, along with other issues and future concerns that will come to the forefront soon enough. But our conversation started out with myself sitting down after grabbing myself some Sweet & Sour chicken and white rice. Sammy came back with some prime rib, plenty of mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn. What surprised me was all the food that Susan brought back. It seemed to be a little bit of everything, but it amounted up to a LOT of food. Sammy stepped on that landmine as he said...
Sammy: Jeez Sue! Have you not ate since we came here from Portland?
Susan: I've just had a lot of weird cravings, and... Wow, I did get a lot of food, didn't I?
Sammy: Especially when it came to the dessert tray. Pumpkin pie, chocolate mousse cake, creme brule? Do you not feed her, James?
Me: I'm not going to talk about the eating habits of my special lady. So how did everyone do? I won a grand at roulette, betting on Red.
Sammy: Living dangerously against the advice of Wesley Snipes, eh? Yeah, I'm about $200 in the hole at blackjack. Hopefully the ponies or the puppies bring me better luck.
Susan: I'm about $300 up on slots. Of course, that's when my bladder doesn't scream at me every five minutes!
Sammy: You gotta lay off of the free beverages, then. That's what that sounds like to me.
Susan: Actually, the coffee is pretty gross, so I've been laying off of it.
Me: Yeah, it's pretty gross. Hence why I've stuck to Coke.
Sammy: Be careful loading up on that empty sugar. This match is huge. I'm actually quite surprised you got a contendership match so quick. Maybe they see things in you like Seth did...
Me: Or it's a trial by fire, and if I fail, I'm stuck in midcard hell for the duration of my career here.
Sammy: Well, it is a midcard title, so...
Me: Yeah, but I got to start somewhere. But this is a bit quick. I mean, I got handed the Cruiserweight Title because Kaz had to leave, and Trios was a team effort...
Sammy: Again, I think maybe they have some expectations due to what you were able to do in WCF...
Me: You mean what little I was able to do...
Sammy: Semantics. But I looked up your competition for this match, and neither of them are anything special.
Me: Oh, please do tell who they are. Is it Logan and Dag? That would be just so fucking poetic...
Sammy: It's even better than that. It's some idiot fratboy with two cheerleaders that call themselves "The Douche Squad" or some shit like that. That, and some MMA wannabe who thinks he's tough. He's kind of an asshole, too.
Me: "Douche Squad"? Well, that kind of defeats the purpose of even calling them what they are. They already know they're assholes. But MMA guy? Like what? Is he a BJJ expert? Because that could get ugly if either of us fucks up in that ring...
Sammy: No, he's a "hit a guy into submission" type of guy. Last week, he passed out in a match against Avery Miles the 3rd, after beating the hell outta the guy all night long. His grappling is lacking, to say the least.
Me: Wow. Passed out? From a submission hold?
Sammy: It was an "I Quit" match.
Me: So he's got some grit to him. What about the Douche Bag, or whatever he calls himself?
Sammy: Him and one of his cheerleaders won some Intergender tag match. Quite easily, I may add...
Me: Well, he's got no partner in this match to bail him out if shit goes tits-up for him, does he? That's good for us...
Sammy: But he still has those cheerleaders at ringside. Who knows what kind of shit they're going to cause to get him the win?
Me: But that's why you come down to the ring with me, is it not? To stop assholes from coming into the ring when they don't have real business in there, to begin with?
Sammy: Yeah, when I can. But two trifling women? I mean, with a name like "Douche Patrol" or whatever it is they're calling themselves, I can just imagine the shit they're going to stir during the match. Will I be able to contain that shit?
Me: Hope so. Or else I get all of this hype for nothing. And my hype reflects directly on to you and your abilities as a trainer. Think about it, if I was able to pull this shit off, you know how many people are going to want to be trained by you? I mean, you're going to become a pretty big deal!
Sammy: You're not the first guy I've trained who's made it big. George Murdock, you remember him?
Me: He trained at your gym for a few months 10 years ago!
Sammy: Yeah, but his Hardcore game was shit until I worked with him on it. I consider myself one of his biggest contributors as a result of my training. But yes, you'd be my first home-grown superstar out of my gym. One that I trained in every aspect I possibly could to get you where you are today.
Susan: DAMMIT! I gotta pee again. Excuse me...
Susan gets up and leaves the table quickly. Both men look at each other, as Sammy says...
Sammy: Is she okay?
Me: She's been moody as hell for awhile now. You think the travelling has made her ill?
Sammy: I dunno. We're all insured now, so maybe she needs to visit a doctor or something. So yeah, you also have an interview with Farrah Tomlin before the big match. Almost forgot to tell you about that.
Me: Great, an interview...
Sammy: Yeah, I know how you feel about them. Especially since the wrestling world is in an uproar right now about the WCF and everything. She's probably going to ask you questions about that. Just try and keep calm while you answer the questions. And maybe steer the interview away from that Dumpster fire, if possible.
Me: Oh, I planned on it. I'll do anything to try and get as much distance from the WCF. I mean, look at what they had me doing the whole time! Seth just had me protecting his interests the whole damn time. Then he fires me and the roster because we don't agree with most of the shit he's been doing?
Sammy: And that's the shit that does not need to be repeated. Because shit may look bad for the WCF, but Seth is rich as all sin, and will probably find a way to rebuild, if he hasn't done so already...
Susan then comes back to the table, as we quickly change the subject away from the WCF. Susan was not only sore about the treatment, but had been quite vocal against the same organization for quite some time now. For the most part, she seemed happy so far in VWS, and I wanted it to be that way for as long as I could possibly make that happen...
So here I was, standing next to Farrah Tomlin for my interview. She seemed quite shocked that I wasn't a skyscraper of a wrestler that she normally interviews, nor a burly guy that could be a poster child for steroid abuse. For some reason, it seemed quite shocking to her before we were set for filming and microphone checks, but I tried not to let her attitude stop me from thinking about what she was going to ask me.
A few moments more, and a director counted down before we were to go live for the interview. As the red light went on to indicate we were on the air, she started her interview with...
Farrah Tomlin: Good evening to the fans of Valentine Wrestling Syndicate worldwide! Tonight I have the dubious honor of interviewing one of our most recent additions to the VWS roster, who happens to also be a refugee from the recently failed World Championship Federation wrestling promotion that was a direct rival to our own show! I give you none other than rookie extraordinaire James "The Game" Chevalier. How are you doing so far in your stay with the VWS?
Me: I have no complaints, so far. Everyone has been rather supportive, other than this creepy Lilith woman who's been stalking me on Twitter.
Farrah Tomlin: Another WCF refugee bothering you? Say it isn't so.
Me: She was in the WCF? She must've gotten fired or something before I joined that roster. But other than that, I'm quite surprised at the reception I've received since signing a contract with VWS.
Farrah Tomlin: Well, it seems that you're receiving the same treatment here as you did in the WCF. Title contendership match in your debut match? Against established VWS roster members in Kellen Klein and Cable Arcane. Care to comment on this?
Me: I don't make the matches, I just wrestle in them. But to insinuate that I'm getting special treatment? Do you have a problem with the booking? Because if you do, you should take it up with the person who books the matches, and not me.
Farrah Tomlin: Well, Seth Lerch made it no secret that he hand-selected you to be the third member of The Family in the Trios tournament, and while you've proven to be worthwhile in tag matches, this is your first professional match where you are not a tag wrestler, but rather a singles competitor. Some would say you don't have the experience to be in a match of this caliber, to include myself. What do you have to say about that?
Me: First of all, you're making comparisons of what I did in the WCF to what I'm expected to do here in the VWS. Did Seth Lerch hand-pick me to protect Logan? I dunno, he probably did. So what does that say about my ability? Or better yet, his faith in my ability? It speaks volumes. Especially considering that I'm being booked in this match my first time out. I guess that should speak volumes about the faith that Ms. Valentine and Ms. Micheals have in regards to my ability in the ring. All I can say is that I do not disappoint, either them or the fans this evening before I step into the ring with Mr. Arcane or Mr. Klein.
Farrah Tomlin: I just cannot seem to wrap my head around this, is all. Have you considered that you're being set up for failure...
Me: I have considered that, but let me make something clear before you continue to attack me with questions that have nothing to do with the match at hand.
Was I given opportunities in the WCF that may have been questionable? I was, and I'll be the first person to admit to it. I was just as baffled as you when I heard that I was to compete for a chance to become the number 1 contender for the Velocity Title. But what am I going to do about it? Cry? Whine? Bitch? Piss? Or moan about it? How about "None of the Above"?
I've considered that maybe I am getting set up for failure because I know about the issues that Ms. Valentine has had with the WCF. She also knows that I worked with someone that I know she hates with the heat of 1,000 suns, but I made it pretty fucking clear that I did NOT enjoy working with that treacherous scumbag or his shitbag racist stepbrother, or whatever the fuck they were supposed to be to each other...
Farrah Tomlin: This is live! You can't be cussing...
Me: You pushed me into this line of questioning, so I want to make it as clear as crystal as to how I feel. If that means putting that bleeper thing to work, then so fucking be it! Live with the consequences of where you pushed me, you uppity bitch!
As a matter of fact, let's talk about something that's more relevant than where I was before I was booked into a match that you think I have no business being in! Like my opponents! We got Calvin Klein of "The Douchebag Nation" or whatever the hell its called! I looked into this guy, and all I could find on him is that he's some sort of moron fratboy who thinks Krav Maga is some sort of Indian culinary dish, even though his name sounds pretty Jewish to me! I mean, I don't want to make assumptions about his ethnicity or religion, but how dumb is this guy? How the hell did HE get into this match? Are you going to question that? Or was his tag victory last week able justify his existence in this match? I mean, you want to question my credentials, why not his? Or this Cable Arcane guy, for that matter?
Yes, let's talk about Cable Arcane, the MMA reject who finds solace in professional wrestling because he can't fucking hack it in a REAL MMA competition! He's unable to hack it there, so he comes to pro wrestling with the intent to beat us all into bloody pulps? Well how did that shit work out for him last week? Why are you not calling his credentials into question coming into this match-up? Because he passed out rather than to utter those dreadful words of "I QUIT" last week? Either way you slice the cake, he lost his match against Avery the Third, or whatever the hell his name is. Why are you NOT asking these questions? Is it so you can try to discredit me because I'm the "New Guy"? Or is it because I'm a WCF Refugee, as you so eloquently put it earlier? Or do you just enjoy being an asshole, and assumed I'm just some meek geek who you can walk the fuck all over?
Her face was priceless. It was a mix of shock, anger, sadness, and all sorts of emotions that just screamed "I just fucked with the wrong guy."
I let that pause hang in the air for a bit longer, expecting her to fire back, but it seemed that I had taken away all of her ammunition that she wanted to use against me. Her attempts to discredit me were shot all to hell, so she just stood there like a knob, before I said...
Me: But you're right about one thing. My experience level. It's not all that extensive. But I've busted my ass for 8 goddamn years to get to this level. I have made it to this level despite so many naysayers over the years. I mean, you know how many executives and interviewers just like you said that I don't have what it takes? You've said it, but you aren't saying anything to me that I haven't heard before. If anything, all of you are starting to sound like broken records to me. Here's an idea, why don't you come up with something else to ask me? Or is that all you got to say against me?
The bottom line is this; I'm in this match. As much as you dislike it, I don't give a shit what you like or feel about it. Hell, I'll go ahead and say I may not agree with this match, either. Just on the principle of just how much actual experience I have at this level of professional wrestling!
But it isn't going to stop me from competing in this match! I'm going to go out there and make it my absolute mission to make either this drunken moron fratboy or this MMA failure to either Rage Quit, or ensure they meet the fate of an absolute Game Over. Then after that, when my hand is raised the victor of the match, much to your anger or whatever the hell you want to feel about it, then the next guy in line will be Landon Dalmon, who I'll make it a mission to ensure he meets the same fate as these two clowns tonight, while I relieve him of his golden belt that he's become quite fond of since winning it two weeks ago. But I'm sure you have something objectionable to say about that now, don't you?
Again the pause. All I got was a dirty look, but no words, so I said...
Me: I didn't fucking think so. I'll see you after the match. Hope you got better questions for me the next time around...
I walked off of the set, as I saw Sammy just full of smiles at my responses towards Farrah Tomlin and her attempts to discredit me right from the get go. I didn't even bother with a response, because I had more important things to do, like prepare for the match that was coming up very soon.
Kellen Klein, to whom I thought his name was Calvin, for some strange reason, was a person to be concerned with. A fan favorite, but mostly because he's a douchebag that everyone enjoys watching make an absolute ass of himself. That, and his entourage was something worth looking at. Yes, I know that Susan was quite a dish herself, but I can look. I'm still a man, and I can appreciate a good-looking woman when I see one. Even Farrah was pleasant to gaze at, though she proved she is not to be trusted in regards to giving a proper interview, at least in regards to myself. Hopefully that changes after tonight.
But I digressed in regards to Kellen Klein, because the concern was the women he surrounded himself with. Were they going to pull something off and try to steal the win? That's about the ONLY real fear I had of him, because fundamentally he was not the most sound guy I've ever faced off against. He was all muscle and athleticism, but zero intelligence in the ring. And against myself and Arcane, that would normally spell doom for a guy like that. It was the ladies of "Douche Nation" that was his real strength in this match.
Then there was Cable Arcane, and what a pleasant guy he is. Oh, who was I kidding? He was a sadistic, brutal asshole who just wanted to hurt people by punching them, rather than use any discernible wrestling skills and techniques! I still stand by what I said in regards to him and MMA. He couldn't hack it as an MMA competitor, so he came to pro wrestling with his shitty attitude and with the intention of hurting us "fake fighters" to make himself feel good.
Well, he's about to find out that you can't cheat gravity, especially when I come raining down on his head and I bring him the "Game Over" that will make him wish he'd done anything else than step foot inside a wrestling ring. Especially when it'll be two weeks in a row he's been made to look bad as a result of his bourgeois attitude against professional wrestlers. But then again, that ruthless and gritty attitude that he possessed could win him the day, if he's able to ride the storm out against myself and Kellen Klein's Bimbo Squad.
Either way, despite my lack of experience, my size compared to these two, and all the other factors against me coming into this match, it was not going to stop me from doing my job. If anything, my job was clear, which was to play the "spoiler" to every doubter, critic, and cynic in Vegas and the world in regards to my size and abilities. After all, it wasn't ever about the size of the dog in the fight, but rather the size of the fight in the dog, and I have loads of fight to bring to these two.
But after being in the fire that was the collapse of the WCF, I've now come out through the fire to find this opportunity waiting for me. And I'll be damned if I just lay down and die because I'm considered the underdog scum of the Earth because of who I am or where I came from. Now it was time to stick it to these assholes, and I'm going to make it my mission to make every fucking person here to eat their words in regards to the negative feedback that I've received as a competitor.
It was time to take these clowns through the fire that forged me. And they'll either stand the heat, or burn to the ground. I'm hoping for the latter...