Post by nathan on Aug 9, 2018 1:03:01 GMT -5
[][][][][][][][][][] J-A-I-M-E [][][][][][][][][][]
I've seen my name in print and online in the last few months, spelled incorrectly. For a while, it annoyed me. It still does… but now it just confuses me. I am the current, reigning and eventually defending (when someone is worthy) Strike Fantasy Towers World Heavyweight Champion. Surely that warrants enough respect to spell my name correctly.
My parents named me Jaime. Not Jamie. I know it doesn't seem like much… but the slight difference means the world to me. So… please… help me honor the vision my parents had for my life by spelling my name correctly. I humbly appreciate compliance in this matter.
Now… moving right along...
to spell my gosh darn name correctly.
I was born Jaime Reyes. Not Jamie Reyes. I know it doesn't look like much… but the difference means the world to me. My parents decided on the specific spelling, and I feel it necessary to stand up for their vision of my life. So… please… for my dear parents… please spell my name right, people of Earth.
Now… moving right along...
[][][][][][][][][][] WHOLE WIDE WORLD [][][][][][][][][][]
Next week at Tuesday Night Titans… I take on local enhancement talent Robert Saints. This man believes himself to be some sort of snake, ready to strike anyone and everyone in his path. He had made quite a career running his mouth. He had a personal trainer, a mansion, a bodyguard, a nutritionist, an auto body shop, a massage therapist, a dietician, a restaurant, a cryogenicist, a psychiatrist, a karate dojo or something. He has the whole world in his hands.
But I have the SFT World Championship in my hands… and that trumps all of his riches. He has the utmost confidence in his ability… and that's cool. What I have… again… is this championship. Saints is going to do what he has to do to push me to the limit in our match. Well, his limit is more accurate. See, I have barely scratched the surface to what MY limit is… and if recent history is any indication… he has no chance of making it to my limit.
I beat the man with a dang clothesline. How could he know anything about MY limit? It's cute that he even dreams of proving a point to me at Titans. His whole schtick is cute. He mentioned that we don't hang out in the same circles… and that's very true. What I didn't understand was when he said… and I quote… “I as hell don't be doing whatever the hell you think is fun.” Now… I admit that English is not my first language… but can anyone explain to me what in the world that means? I ran it into a Google Translator, but it's having a hard time with gibberish since I loaded it with Jamo garble.
I must admit that it's pretty cool that Robert Saints is a fourth generation wrestler. All three generations taught him the tricks of the trade, and he claims he can't be duped by anyone… at all… ever. And yet… I am an admitted broken record by bringing up that I put The Viper down with a clothesline the last time we met inside the squared circle. So… either he's an idiot… or the three generations of Saints men failed him.
I do understand your frustration, Saints. I won again and you lost again. You didn't get your way, and now you're throwing a temper tantrum. I'm sure one of your servants is warming a bottle of milk to ease you into nap time. When you wake up… I want you to think long and hard about what all it is going to take to defeat me on Tuesday.
Tuesday, the day of all SFT shows. Not Sunday, as you previously thought Back to Reality was. No, not Back to Basics. I would love to say I hate bringing up the silly things you've said in the past… but I love to poke fun at you. Honestly, Saints… you're one of my favorite jesters in SFT. I don't know if you set out to be a walking punchline… but you definitely nailed it. From the bottom of my heart… thank you for being you, Saints.
Now… I don't care how many cars, trucks, motorcycles, razor scooters, boats, hang gliders, motorhomes, skateboards, hoverboards, roller blades, VTOLs, swimming pools, saunas, hot tubs, or moats you have at your mansion. What I care about is carrying the company on my meaty shoulders while being SFT World Champion. Nothing you do… or say… will sidetrack me from my mission.
Because of the responsibility I have as champion… I truly have the whole wide world in my hands. Your empire pales in comparison.
Sorry.
Not sorry.
[][][][][][][][][][] AN OLD FRIEND [][][][][][][][][][]
[The scene opens to Jaime Reyes’ apartment. He is packing up some things to take to his new office at All-Star Comics. On the wall in his cramped living room is the SFT World Championship in a shadow box. He takes a moment to bask in its glory, and then the phone rings. He smiles and answers it on speaker phone.]
JR: Hey, man. Long time.
Man: Sure has. I meant to call last week but I figured you were busy traveling home from England.
JR: It's been a while since I've flown that far. I don't miss it at all.
Man: I hear that. Hey, congrats on winning the World Championship. That was quite an impressive match.
JR: Thanks. Did you watch it live?
Man: Sure did. For some reason… my Network subscription is still valid.
JR: The one they comped you years ago? Maaannnnn. What a deal.
Man: I've been waiting for it to kick me out, but I'm still able to watch. I've been catching up on things more in the last few months since you signed. You're a breath of fresh air for that place, Jaime. Keep up the good work.
JR: I can only do the best I can when I can. You taught me that. I'm looking at the title right now, and it's crazy that after all these years… all the champions… and now this is mine. It's a dream come true.
Man: It was for me, too. I remember I was ready to retire if I didn't win it when I did. I had funds in the right places, looked into downsizing my real estate, most of my gear packed up. And then… bam! New champ. Sometimes the unexpected happens.
JR: I hear that. When it was down to me and Louis Cypher… I thought there was no chance I was going to pull it off. And then… somehow… I did.
Man: You won because your talent is undeniable.
JR: Pun intended?
Man: You know it.
JR: It really caught me off guard when his feet hit the floor. I was happy to make it that far. I would have been happy to go home empty handed. Instead, I had to have special paperwork to get the championship onto the airplane. I had to pay an additional carry on fee for it.
Man: Whatever the cost… because you are now the top you in that company… carrying such a prestigious legacy on your shoulder… it's all worth it.
JR: Funny you said shoulder and not waist. The last time I had a belt on my waist, I went to get in the ring and it popped off… and chipped the main plate on the concrete floor.
Man: I remember… and they… were… pissed.
JR: Right. So, never on my waist again. I have much better control when it's on my shoulder, as strange as that may be.
Man: It's not strange at all. You do what you need to do to protect that championship. You still use that shadow box I got you?
JR: I do. I'm looking at it right now. I had to switch out the lighting inside, but it's otherwise the same.
Man: Yeah, I wasn't sure how long the old light would work. It was… weird...
JR: I made the best of it.
Man: You always do. Hey, I wanted to tell you I'll be in town this weekend. Mind if I stop by?
JR: That would be great. I'll be home Friday, and at the comic shop all day Saturday.
Man: What comic shop?
JR: All-Star Comics. I kind of work there, sort of. I'm more of an Ambassador. There's a big clearance sale on Saturday. You should stop by if you can.
Man: Yeah, I'll check it out. Text me the address.
JR: Will do.
Man: It was great catching up with you. I'll see you Saturday, Jaime.
JR: Sure thing, Nate.
[With that… the call ends… and the scene fades…]
I've seen my name in print and online in the last few months, spelled incorrectly. For a while, it annoyed me. It still does… but now it just confuses me. I am the current, reigning and eventually defending (when someone is worthy) Strike Fantasy Towers World Heavyweight Champion. Surely that warrants enough respect to spell my name correctly.
My parents named me Jaime. Not Jamie. I know it doesn't seem like much… but the slight difference means the world to me. So… please… help me honor the vision my parents had for my life by spelling my name correctly. I humbly appreciate compliance in this matter.
Now… moving right along...
to spell my gosh darn name correctly.
I was born Jaime Reyes. Not Jamie Reyes. I know it doesn't look like much… but the difference means the world to me. My parents decided on the specific spelling, and I feel it necessary to stand up for their vision of my life. So… please… for my dear parents… please spell my name right, people of Earth.
Now… moving right along...
[][][][][][][][][][] WHOLE WIDE WORLD [][][][][][][][][][]
Next week at Tuesday Night Titans… I take on local enhancement talent Robert Saints. This man believes himself to be some sort of snake, ready to strike anyone and everyone in his path. He had made quite a career running his mouth. He had a personal trainer, a mansion, a bodyguard, a nutritionist, an auto body shop, a massage therapist, a dietician, a restaurant, a cryogenicist, a psychiatrist, a karate dojo or something. He has the whole world in his hands.
But I have the SFT World Championship in my hands… and that trumps all of his riches. He has the utmost confidence in his ability… and that's cool. What I have… again… is this championship. Saints is going to do what he has to do to push me to the limit in our match. Well, his limit is more accurate. See, I have barely scratched the surface to what MY limit is… and if recent history is any indication… he has no chance of making it to my limit.
I beat the man with a dang clothesline. How could he know anything about MY limit? It's cute that he even dreams of proving a point to me at Titans. His whole schtick is cute. He mentioned that we don't hang out in the same circles… and that's very true. What I didn't understand was when he said… and I quote… “I as hell don't be doing whatever the hell you think is fun.” Now… I admit that English is not my first language… but can anyone explain to me what in the world that means? I ran it into a Google Translator, but it's having a hard time with gibberish since I loaded it with Jamo garble.
I must admit that it's pretty cool that Robert Saints is a fourth generation wrestler. All three generations taught him the tricks of the trade, and he claims he can't be duped by anyone… at all… ever. And yet… I am an admitted broken record by bringing up that I put The Viper down with a clothesline the last time we met inside the squared circle. So… either he's an idiot… or the three generations of Saints men failed him.
I do understand your frustration, Saints. I won again and you lost again. You didn't get your way, and now you're throwing a temper tantrum. I'm sure one of your servants is warming a bottle of milk to ease you into nap time. When you wake up… I want you to think long and hard about what all it is going to take to defeat me on Tuesday.
Tuesday, the day of all SFT shows. Not Sunday, as you previously thought Back to Reality was. No, not Back to Basics. I would love to say I hate bringing up the silly things you've said in the past… but I love to poke fun at you. Honestly, Saints… you're one of my favorite jesters in SFT. I don't know if you set out to be a walking punchline… but you definitely nailed it. From the bottom of my heart… thank you for being you, Saints.
Now… I don't care how many cars, trucks, motorcycles, razor scooters, boats, hang gliders, motorhomes, skateboards, hoverboards, roller blades, VTOLs, swimming pools, saunas, hot tubs, or moats you have at your mansion. What I care about is carrying the company on my meaty shoulders while being SFT World Champion. Nothing you do… or say… will sidetrack me from my mission.
Because of the responsibility I have as champion… I truly have the whole wide world in my hands. Your empire pales in comparison.
Sorry.
Not sorry.
[][][][][][][][][][] AN OLD FRIEND [][][][][][][][][][]
[The scene opens to Jaime Reyes’ apartment. He is packing up some things to take to his new office at All-Star Comics. On the wall in his cramped living room is the SFT World Championship in a shadow box. He takes a moment to bask in its glory, and then the phone rings. He smiles and answers it on speaker phone.]
JR: Hey, man. Long time.
Man: Sure has. I meant to call last week but I figured you were busy traveling home from England.
JR: It's been a while since I've flown that far. I don't miss it at all.
Man: I hear that. Hey, congrats on winning the World Championship. That was quite an impressive match.
JR: Thanks. Did you watch it live?
Man: Sure did. For some reason… my Network subscription is still valid.
JR: The one they comped you years ago? Maaannnnn. What a deal.
Man: I've been waiting for it to kick me out, but I'm still able to watch. I've been catching up on things more in the last few months since you signed. You're a breath of fresh air for that place, Jaime. Keep up the good work.
JR: I can only do the best I can when I can. You taught me that. I'm looking at the title right now, and it's crazy that after all these years… all the champions… and now this is mine. It's a dream come true.
Man: It was for me, too. I remember I was ready to retire if I didn't win it when I did. I had funds in the right places, looked into downsizing my real estate, most of my gear packed up. And then… bam! New champ. Sometimes the unexpected happens.
JR: I hear that. When it was down to me and Louis Cypher… I thought there was no chance I was going to pull it off. And then… somehow… I did.
Man: You won because your talent is undeniable.
JR: Pun intended?
Man: You know it.
JR: It really caught me off guard when his feet hit the floor. I was happy to make it that far. I would have been happy to go home empty handed. Instead, I had to have special paperwork to get the championship onto the airplane. I had to pay an additional carry on fee for it.
Man: Whatever the cost… because you are now the top you in that company… carrying such a prestigious legacy on your shoulder… it's all worth it.
JR: Funny you said shoulder and not waist. The last time I had a belt on my waist, I went to get in the ring and it popped off… and chipped the main plate on the concrete floor.
Man: I remember… and they… were… pissed.
JR: Right. So, never on my waist again. I have much better control when it's on my shoulder, as strange as that may be.
Man: It's not strange at all. You do what you need to do to protect that championship. You still use that shadow box I got you?
JR: I do. I'm looking at it right now. I had to switch out the lighting inside, but it's otherwise the same.
Man: Yeah, I wasn't sure how long the old light would work. It was… weird...
JR: I made the best of it.
Man: You always do. Hey, I wanted to tell you I'll be in town this weekend. Mind if I stop by?
JR: That would be great. I'll be home Friday, and at the comic shop all day Saturday.
Man: What comic shop?
JR: All-Star Comics. I kind of work there, sort of. I'm more of an Ambassador. There's a big clearance sale on Saturday. You should stop by if you can.
Man: Yeah, I'll check it out. Text me the address.
JR: Will do.
Man: It was great catching up with you. I'll see you Saturday, Jaime.
JR: Sure thing, Nate.
[With that… the call ends… and the scene fades…]
