“Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.” —. Morticia Addams
The scene? What seemed to be a wrestling school that was teeming with life. Four squared circles were placed throughout the large, open room, and in each several wrestlers stood, going through the motions, learning to throw hip tosses, they watched superior wrestlers step into the ring to show them the proper way to throw a forearm or drop their opponent with a drop-toe-hold. Two men prowled the area, on the outside; they watched the action inside of the ring as they walked.
One man stuck out like a sore thumb, with a Minecraft themed shirt on and his white trunks on, wrestling boots on as well, he had a gleaming belt over his shoulder which he repositioned from time to time and glanced down at it, just to make sure it was still there. Ace Baldwin would lean over to his partner beside him, not Kevin Carter, his supposed tag team partner but instead it was his manager and mentor, “Dynamic” Derek Daniels.
They chatted as they walked by each ring, they pointed out the pros and cons to each of the young wrestlers who took their turn in the ring, they laughed, they smiled, they cringed and they just shook their heads at some as they walked, Derek held something in his hand, a little hand held video camera, but he wasn’t recording anything as Ace re-positioned the belt back around his right shoulder, as it was around his left.
It was unknown where this wrestling school was, or even what it was, who was involved or who was running it, what mattered was these kids, adults and try-hards alike were all busting it, trying to prove themselves to someone, whether it be some promoters who leered from the sidelines looking for that next big talent. There was a single, lone ring to itself, right front and center of the rest of the rings which was in some sort of diamond shape as Ace slid his title into the ring and then slid onto the apron and wiped his boots off before he stepped through the ropes and tested them out, Derek, stayed on the outside, he aimed the camera at Ace who bent low and picked up the tag team title and placed it around his waist and polished it off before he looked up. He opened his arms.
-“Amazing” Ace Baldwin:-
The SCW world and fans may be asking where I’m at right now, it doesn’t really, particularly matter. What matters is what is going on behind me, all of these men, and a few women, all of these wrestlers trying to prove something. All of these wrestlers trying to prove to something, trying to gain access to the top, trying to get that taste of glory, trying to get noticed for their big break. You see there may be a hundred or so wrestlers here today, and each of them believe that they are the best. Each of them has this notion in their head that they are the greatest thing ever to step between these ropes, because that’s what wrestlers are taught now-a-days. Everyone has to have the fanciest car to ride to the arena in, everyone has to have these ulterior motives, and everyone has to have the beach house, the pent house overlooking the Vegas strip. Everyone has to have millions because main stream wrestling has ruined independent wrestling, everyone has to be the coolest guy in the room, and everyone has to be Batman. There aren’t many people left, like me.
He pointed to himself with a small smirk as he polished the title on his shoulder again and then looked toward the camera as he sighed.
-“Amazing” Ace Baldwin:-
Not many people left are thankful just to have a job and a place to pay you so you can stretch that payday to another week in whatever hotel you’ve got to stay in, or get you to whatever gig you have to wrestle at next. Not many like myself are willing to admit they’ve slept a few nights in their car, recently. Not many people admit to that, not many people admit to the struggles because it isn’t cool, they don’t mention earning their stripes because they haven’t. Everyone wants to be the next Rock or Stone Cold Steve Austin without the troubles and without the tribulation. Nobody wants to go through the pain of being told no, everyone has to be the superstar, but not me. You see, I’m not bitching and complaining because people get pushed to a world title shot, and I’m stuck holding the tag titles, because I know that the harder I work, and the more people I beat, the better I look, and soon the pressure will be on for management to give me that title shot, but this isn’t about that, it isn’t about title shots and the cars and the women, it’s about more than that. It’s about the SCW, it’s about why I’m the best to ever step foot in an SCW ring, and it’s all about a nickname…Yes…A nickname.
Ace tapped his chin as he stood in the middle of the ring as he looked on to the camera and he paced back and forth from one side to the other, something he always seemed to do in these thinking situations. He placed his title on his opposite shoulder.
-“Amazing” Ace Baldwin:-
Yes, a nickname. Nothing anyone said, nothing anyone did, but a nickname. Put aside the fact of my recent alignment, but aside the fact Kevin Carter is still an asshole, yet he is my tag partner, I could address all of that, but who really cares? What I care about is something in the near future, and that is a match with someone named Jordan Williams, someone who—I didn’t know existed until I began researching him and his roided up figure, he didn’t look impressive, nothing jumped out and yelled at me that he would be a threat, but something he nicknamed himself, something he claims. You see, I don’t care how popular you are in Japan, wrestling marks online yell and cheer about Japanese wrestling when in reality it’s awful, so no wonder he’s a “god” over there, but something he called himself.
Ace smirked and laughed for a moment.
-“Amazing” Ace Baldwin:-
One in a million, now, when I hear this nickname, of course the first thing I think of is something valuable, something that is rare, something you can’t find anywhere else, then I look at Jordan…This, underwhelming talent. This waste of space on the SCW roster, he claims how he is one in a million, the God of professional wrestling, but to me he’s just another spoke on the wheel, he’s just another victim to throw in front of the buzz saw. Because when I think of this nickname, I don’t think you’re one in a million, Jordan…I think you’re one of a million.
He chuckled as he looked around to the action that was going on behind him as he nodded and surveyed it. He turned back around but kept a hand back to motion toward it.
-“Amazing” Ace Baldwin:-
You see, nothing separates you from the hundreds of wrestlers behind me, nothing about you screams that you’re different, nothing…Nothing about you, you see you may be one in a million, I’m amazing, I’m the amazing one…I’m Ace Baldwin and on Climax Control, you’re going to find out first hand.
He grinned and nodded to Derek as he climbed down from the ring with his belt, and the duo continued to walk around the area.
