Post by Eli Martin on May 24, 2020 15:48:25 GMT -5
Nearly a week removed from my battle with the Accountant, and I still haven’t managed to shake what transpired.
I haven’t the slightest clue what precisely motivated Jack Jones to exact his revenge in the manner he had, but I am certain that in that moment nothing else mattered to him. All he could see was the Accountant cheating his way to glory. The unbearable, daunting thought alone, turning him into a firearm of his own paranoia. Funny thing about firearms, although the bullets encased within their chambers are normally intended for a specific location, they sport no name. You may wield, aim, and fire with the intent to harm/kill a certain individual like the Accountant, for instance, but your aim can be disrupted and someone else can get hit in the crossfire -- someone like me.
I’m going to skip the part where I advise against the type of self-harming revenge that you practice due to my own personal experiences and how it threatens to ruin everything you establish and blah, blah, blah because we’re past that. We are far beyond the point of talking about things in a calm and collective manner, Jones. You and I have arrived at the point where I’m ready to throw hands.
Some people may be confused by my saying that, so bear with me as I attempt to make this as simple and plain as I possibly can.
I’m a man of integrity and pride. I didn’t reach such a pinnacle in my development by being sheltered from disappointment. All of the fights I survived in the past, especially the real nasty ones, through triumph or failure, assisted in the grooming of the man who firmly stands before you today. I could leave the ring/cage with my head high as there was no disputing the simple fact that I could rest easy knowing I’d given it all I had. I could look into the mirror in the morning to follow with such certainty of who I am and what I’m all about: the evidence of a constant struggle and a work ethic that will not cease! Being a MMA Fighter in a Pro Wrestling atmosphere is.. scoffs ..unsettling...to say the least. There’s this preconceived notion about you and your abilities before you’ve even been fitted for a singlet. Albeit, the people here haven’t been too critical of me, but you handing me an unearned victory certainly didn’t help matters. Sure, I still know my worth. But they don’t. You’ve managed to cast more doubt on me than ever! How does it look, me, goading the Accountant for his methods, if I’m guilty of the same? And for that you’ve got to pay the price somewhere down the line. May not be this week or the next, but I’m giving you fair warning now..
You’re. Gonna. Pay.
I won the battle, but I lost the war. Despite it all, the Accountant succeeded in looking good against me. Now he’s off to bigger better things in the form of the Intercontinental Championship, whereas I’m given a shot at a belt I never truly deserved. I’m disgusted by the mere thought alone of facing for the Hardcore Championship, because Reaper deserves better. He deserves a challenger who is an undisputed victor, not someone whose arm was tossed over the chest of a beaten opponent. I implore Management, cancel this match or make it a non-title, because I do not deserve this. Unlike my opposition thus far, I want a chance to earn my spot against the next worthy contender or hopeful long shot, one of the two I mentioned; only then will the self-loathing finally be silenced.
I haven’t the slightest clue what precisely motivated Jack Jones to exact his revenge in the manner he had, but I am certain that in that moment nothing else mattered to him. All he could see was the Accountant cheating his way to glory. The unbearable, daunting thought alone, turning him into a firearm of his own paranoia. Funny thing about firearms, although the bullets encased within their chambers are normally intended for a specific location, they sport no name. You may wield, aim, and fire with the intent to harm/kill a certain individual like the Accountant, for instance, but your aim can be disrupted and someone else can get hit in the crossfire -- someone like me.
I’m going to skip the part where I advise against the type of self-harming revenge that you practice due to my own personal experiences and how it threatens to ruin everything you establish and blah, blah, blah because we’re past that. We are far beyond the point of talking about things in a calm and collective manner, Jones. You and I have arrived at the point where I’m ready to throw hands.
Some people may be confused by my saying that, so bear with me as I attempt to make this as simple and plain as I possibly can.
I’m a man of integrity and pride. I didn’t reach such a pinnacle in my development by being sheltered from disappointment. All of the fights I survived in the past, especially the real nasty ones, through triumph or failure, assisted in the grooming of the man who firmly stands before you today. I could leave the ring/cage with my head high as there was no disputing the simple fact that I could rest easy knowing I’d given it all I had. I could look into the mirror in the morning to follow with such certainty of who I am and what I’m all about: the evidence of a constant struggle and a work ethic that will not cease! Being a MMA Fighter in a Pro Wrestling atmosphere is.. scoffs ..unsettling...to say the least. There’s this preconceived notion about you and your abilities before you’ve even been fitted for a singlet. Albeit, the people here haven’t been too critical of me, but you handing me an unearned victory certainly didn’t help matters. Sure, I still know my worth. But they don’t. You’ve managed to cast more doubt on me than ever! How does it look, me, goading the Accountant for his methods, if I’m guilty of the same? And for that you’ve got to pay the price somewhere down the line. May not be this week or the next, but I’m giving you fair warning now..
You’re. Gonna. Pay.
I won the battle, but I lost the war. Despite it all, the Accountant succeeded in looking good against me. Now he’s off to bigger better things in the form of the Intercontinental Championship, whereas I’m given a shot at a belt I never truly deserved. I’m disgusted by the mere thought alone of facing for the Hardcore Championship, because Reaper deserves better. He deserves a challenger who is an undisputed victor, not someone whose arm was tossed over the chest of a beaten opponent. I implore Management, cancel this match or make it a non-title, because I do not deserve this. Unlike my opposition thus far, I want a chance to earn my spot against the next worthy contender or hopeful long shot, one of the two I mentioned; only then will the self-loathing finally be silenced.
