Post by nathan on Sept 8, 2018 15:54:38 GMT -5
A man who tells the kind of stories that are spoken at a boring TED Talk is now telling ME that my words are just filler!
What has this world come to? I am a pro wrestler, talking about pro wrestling things… while my opponent talks about falling off a bicycle. I'm sure there's some kind of lesson to be learned about picking yourself back up after a fall… but Emerson is no Alfred… and I'm surely no Batman. What I AM is the man who stands atop a mountain with a big shiny belt. Not the kind of belt that holds up pants, oh no. The kind of belt that has nearly two decades of legacy.
Legacy is what I fight for. It's what I fight to preserve. At the end of the road… I want to be remembered as one of the greatest of all time, not as a man who tells stories from childhood. The notion that nobody cares about my words, while this man goes on for days about… riding a bike? I checked out a long time ago, so excuse me for missing the finer points of your stories, Emerson. I guess I'm just an old fashioned, no nonsense kind of competitor… and not a dude entering into a freshman creative writing class.
I will let my fists tell a story next week at Titans 41, where I either succeed or fail. That's what this is all about. Maybe I bit off more than I could chew this time. Maybe Cypher was right about me all along. I honestly don't believe the one true watcher is paying attention to a word either of us is saying, Emerson. I've gone on for months and months about my views and opinions, only to be questioned about things like I never said them to start with. Add that to the guys I've beaten along the way, that someone didn't even know about. It's all just talking in circles. He's not paying attention to either of us.
We'll make the world pay attention, man. You and me. Challenger and champion. No fancy stipulations. Just two guys, fighting for the main title, on the anniversary of 9/11. What a weird day to celebrate, right? The name of this company is still misleading, and surely gets a lot of hits for people looking to join terrorist organizations. That's why the Facebook page had to be shut down, I heard. So many people will never forget the events of that day. Hopefully people don't forget how hard we've all come to make it to where we are in our careers. You… the do-gooder voice of reason. Me… the champion nobody wanted.
We've walked the same path, with different shoes. In a few days, that path leads us to Titans 41. I'm as ready as I will ever be, I suppose. I'll keep speaking my mind, as if I'm trying to convince myself that I belong here. And you… you'll keep telling stories about your childhood as if there is some symbolism to your current situation here in SFT. It's important to you that you tell your tales, so I can't hate you for doing it. What I do hate… is the criticism that MY words are just filler. I'm doing what I've always done, what has taken me all around the world for twenty years, what has made me a success everywhere I've gone.
You've got a fireside chat for an audience of one.
That one is you.
Cool.
What has this world come to? I am a pro wrestler, talking about pro wrestling things… while my opponent talks about falling off a bicycle. I'm sure there's some kind of lesson to be learned about picking yourself back up after a fall… but Emerson is no Alfred… and I'm surely no Batman. What I AM is the man who stands atop a mountain with a big shiny belt. Not the kind of belt that holds up pants, oh no. The kind of belt that has nearly two decades of legacy.
Legacy is what I fight for. It's what I fight to preserve. At the end of the road… I want to be remembered as one of the greatest of all time, not as a man who tells stories from childhood. The notion that nobody cares about my words, while this man goes on for days about… riding a bike? I checked out a long time ago, so excuse me for missing the finer points of your stories, Emerson. I guess I'm just an old fashioned, no nonsense kind of competitor… and not a dude entering into a freshman creative writing class.
I will let my fists tell a story next week at Titans 41, where I either succeed or fail. That's what this is all about. Maybe I bit off more than I could chew this time. Maybe Cypher was right about me all along. I honestly don't believe the one true watcher is paying attention to a word either of us is saying, Emerson. I've gone on for months and months about my views and opinions, only to be questioned about things like I never said them to start with. Add that to the guys I've beaten along the way, that someone didn't even know about. It's all just talking in circles. He's not paying attention to either of us.
We'll make the world pay attention, man. You and me. Challenger and champion. No fancy stipulations. Just two guys, fighting for the main title, on the anniversary of 9/11. What a weird day to celebrate, right? The name of this company is still misleading, and surely gets a lot of hits for people looking to join terrorist organizations. That's why the Facebook page had to be shut down, I heard. So many people will never forget the events of that day. Hopefully people don't forget how hard we've all come to make it to where we are in our careers. You… the do-gooder voice of reason. Me… the champion nobody wanted.
We've walked the same path, with different shoes. In a few days, that path leads us to Titans 41. I'm as ready as I will ever be, I suppose. I'll keep speaking my mind, as if I'm trying to convince myself that I belong here. And you… you'll keep telling stories about your childhood as if there is some symbolism to your current situation here in SFT. It's important to you that you tell your tales, so I can't hate you for doing it. What I do hate… is the criticism that MY words are just filler. I'm doing what I've always done, what has taken me all around the world for twenty years, what has made me a success everywhere I've gone.
You've got a fireside chat for an audience of one.
That one is you.
Cool.
[The scene opens to the city that never sleeps, New York City. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, because there is no bedtime. Because, well, you get it. Time Square is the setting, and we see SFT World Heavyweight Champion Jaime Reyes and his friend Rick Dalton basking in the lights, sounds, and - unfortunately - smells of the Big Apple.]
RD: Does it always smell like something died here?
JR: Ehhhh there's a good chance something DID die here, Rick. You've never been to New York City before?
RD: I never had a reason to come out this far east. I'm west coast for life, man. Also, I planned on being STD free for life.
JR: Come on. It's not that bad here.
RD: We've been here twelve hours and I've been propositioned for sex nine times already.
JR: Okay, maybe it is that bad. This city has gone through a lot though. Remember 9/11?
RD: How could I forget? Country music won't allow us to forget.
JR: True, true, true. Despite all of your instincts, thanks for coming along this time. This is a big city to get lost in. It's better to get lost with a friend.
RD: Nice one, Hallmark. This trip works out for both of us. I've been in contact with a guy from Queens about a ring-used SFT World Championship.
JR: Oh yeah? That's awesome.
RD: It's got a hefty price tag on it, but if it's authentic… it's worth every penny. I'm meeting him later this afternoon. I was hoping you'd come with. If this guy is legit, he might be impressed enough by your presence to cut me a deal.
JR: Always a haggler. Hahaha.
[Fast forward to later in the afternoon. Rick and Jaime are seated at a table at The Ozone Diner in Queens. A man dressed in black approaches their table, carrying a black briefcase. Jaime and Rick look up at him, astonished.]
RD: YOU are OzoneNinja666?!
JR: Of course he is. The username should have given it away.
[The man sits down across from them, and he is none other than SFT Hall of Famer and former three time World Champion Aj Nin Red Rum.]
ANRR: Jaime Reyes, the man carrying on the legacy started in this very briefcase. How ya been, kid?
JR: It's been a crazy year. Came home from Japan, joined SFT, basically won the World Title right off the bat. How's retirement?
ANRR: It has its ups and downs. I mostly just sit on my stoop and yell at cars to slow down. I sold the gym a while back. The kids are all grown and out of the house. It's just me… and a house full of memories. You, you must be SDComix858...
RD: I am, yes. My name is Rick and I'm a huge from of yours, sir.
ANRR: Please, Rick. Sir was my father's name. At least… that's all I remember it being. Thanks for coming all the way out here to look at the belt.
JR: Is that really a ring-used belt?
ANRR: Sure is. It was used from February 2002 to November 2004. Held by Mad Dogg, Dave Vam Dam, Shawn Walsh, Ace, Radiant… uhhh… me, three times.
RD: Can I take a look at it?
ANRR: Of course.
[He turns the briefcase around and Rick opens it, activating a golden illumination from inside the case. Rick and Jaime stare in awe at the magnificent belt. Aj Nin lifts the belt out and pulls the briefcase off of the table, lying the belt flat on the table. Rick puts on his bifocals and inspects the plates and leather more closely.]
RD: It's hard to imagine this being used for so long. It's in such good condition.
ANRR: If you turn it over, the leather was stamped by its creator and there's a seal of authenticity with the year on there. It's been sitting in a case on my mantle for as long as I can remember.
RD: Why are you selling it?
ANRR: Honestly, I found your website and saw your collections at, what was it, All-Star Comics? You are a true fan. You don't just collect to collect. You put thought in everything you have, and how to display it. Then, I saw a picture on there with Jaime and it seemed like fate.
JR: The universe is a fascinating place.
ANRR: If this is something you'd like for your collection, I'm willing to let it go.
RD: It's a lot of money… but, man… I've got it have it. The price we agreed upon works perfectly for me.
ANRR: Sounds good. You've got yourself a deal, Rick.
[The two men shake hands and Aj Nin loads the belt back into the suitcase. Rick pulls an envelope of money out of his pocket and slides it to Aj Nin, who puts it in his pocket right away.]
RD: Whoa. You're not going to count it?
ANRR: Jaime, do you trust Rick?
JR: Absolutely.
ANRR: Good enough for me. So, how long are you guys in the area?
RD: We fly back to San Diego early Wednesday.
JR: Yeah. I've got a title defense on Tuesday in NYC.
ANRR: I heard an ad on the radio for it. I wasn't sure when that show was. Who ya workin’?
JR: Emerson Embry.
ANRR: No idea.
JR: Former World Champ. He won it from Lucas Balkan last year.
ANRR: Wow. Balkan is still around?
JR: I keep hearing rumors that he's coming back again. I haven't met the guy.
ANRR: He's a good dude. How's Emerson?
JR: He's a walking conscience. It can be a little annoying sometimes. He's going to give me a run for my money. That's for sure. He almost beat Nirvana last week.
ANRR: That old whackjob is still alive?!
JR: Somehow. He just returned to SFT a few weeks ago. It's a strange time to be in SFT. A few returns, a few debuts, and I'm somehow World Champ.
ANRR: You're World Champ because you work hard, kid. Always have. If they had listened to me back in the day, you would've been hired on ‘02. You had such raw potential, inhuman strength, ring psychology the likes of a seasoned vet. I can only imagine what a decade and a half touring the world has done to mold you into the World Champion you are today.
RD: That's quite an endorsement. Can I get that in writing? I'm ghost writing his autobiography.
ANRR: Ghost writing?
RD: Yeah. He doesn't like to tell stories of his past in detail, so I've been taking notes and putting it all together. It's quite a read so far.
ANRR: Interesting. Yeah, shoot me an email reminder and I'll write up a forward for the book.
RD: Thank you so much.
JR: Yeah, man. Thanks. Hey, are you busy Tuesday night? I have some extra comp tickets that are going to waste.
ANRR: Does that mean I have to go backstage?
JR: Not it you don't want to. The seats are pretty decent, too.
ANRR: Then yeah, I'll go. I have no interest in immersing myself in that world again. But to support you, I'll check it out. Got gimmicks for sale?
JR: Sure do. They're releasing a limited edition shirt next week.
ANRR: I'll definitely buy one. I've got a thing for wrestling shirts…
[He opens up his jacket, revealing a vintage Deadpac shirt. After a smirk from Aj Nin, the scene fades… and stuff…]
