[Kristopher Ryans]

 OFF-CAMERA
Jet City, WA
16 June 2017
8:59 PM PDT



”I feel like it is a champion’s mentality to actually care about all of the people that stand across the ring from them. For instance, even if the most talentless person in the world stands across from you, you should always try to hype the fight. Always come prepared. Always have something ready to say if they have some insult to hurl your direction. No matter who it is, a champion should be able to make something out of nothing. A champion should be able to pull a fan out of the crowd and have a high quality match.”

The video starts with a shot of Kris sitting behind a desk. Behind him are separate pictures of Violet Ripley, Parker Wayde, and his brother Jason, all taken after they won championships. The pictures of all three head trainers are a dead giveaway that we are in the back office of the Jet City Sports Lab. To the surprise of no one, the name on the placard that sits on the desk reads “Phillip Ripley” not Kristopher Halich. That is also probably the reason that he is nonchalant in the way he sits. He has the office chair leaned all the way backwards, his feet on the desk on top of what are probably important papers that he had not bothered to clear off. Finally, the thing that most all of the viewers notice before anything else, is the Roulette Championship draped over his shoulder, and pinned to his chest by his crossed arms.

”Here’s the thing… none of that sounds like me.”

He sighs heavily, shaking his head. He looks back at the pictures on the walls behind him, raising his left hand to point up at them.

”It sounds like them. It sounds like the things that they tell people that come into this place to hone their craft. Don’t get me wrong, it is good advice to give to the newbies. Anything that can keep that magical glint in their eyes a little bit longer is worth saying. It is only a matter of time before the majority of them fall to the wayside and get forgotten. Not everyone is meant to be a superstar. Every major training facility in this country has at least a handful of students. If I asked all of you at home to write down the names of twenty people that debuted in the last year and were worth paying attention to, I bet none of you could. So every single training facility will make people bust their asses, all while giving them some kind of idealistic view of how things work. There’s a reason that I am not a trainer here. It is the same reason that I never trained in a place like this. That being, none of that shit sounds anything like me at all. It doesn’t sound like something that anyone would believe if it was coming out of my mouth in some half-sincere way. It is not something that anyone would expect me to buy into. I am the guy that used to come to shows so fucked up that I couldn’t remember that I was even booked, remember? You think that I am the guy that could pull some fat, uncharismatic fan out of the audience and entertain people with the match we would put on?”

The thought actually draws a laugh out of him. He pulls his feet down off the table, knocking some of the papers onto the floor as he does. However, he does not even glance down at them before continuing.

”It’s totally okay that a lot of you just chuckled and said ‘fuck no’ to your computer screens. I’m not going to hold it against you, because you’re absolutely right. I’m not that person. I’m not those people...”

Without turning back to the pictures, he points back over his shoulder at them.

”Let’s be totally honest. If I were to pull a fan out of the audience, it would not be for a match. It would be to explain why wrestling them would be a better alternative to fighting boring ass Steve Ramone for a sixth time. It would be to draw comparisons to the Mean Girls or their male counterparts when the person had nothing interesting to say, no real ability to speak of, and spent ten minutes wasting everyone’s time. I mean for Christ’s sake, I am the guy that constantly gets told that I cross too many lines on social media. I am the guy that is being billed opposite Mikah Green to shred the entire roster on the SCW website on Saturday nights. I am not the guy that is going to build up anybody, least of all someone that is not worth my effort, or the screen time that this match is going to get.”

He shrugs, unapologetically, getting up from the chair. The suddenness of his movement sends the chair rolling backwards into one of the bookshelves behind the desk. The impact that it makes knocks over half of the stuff on a shelf right at eye-level. The noise it makes startles him, but after finding the source of the sound, he blows it off and turns back to the camera without fixing it.

”Joshua Acquin is a waste of my time, and my effort, but if this was the first time we were facing them, I might give him a little more credit. If it was the first or second time I was facing him, maybe I would be a little bit worried. If the last time that I beat him was more than two months ago, I might prepare a little. However, I have beaten this man twice, and on both occasions he did little more than walk down to the ring before my hand was raised and I added another win to my record. He wasn’t a challenge to me when he was part of a championship level tag team. He wasn’t a challenge to me at Climax Control 178 when I pinned him in the middle of the ring. Why should I care now? What has changed?”

He comes around to the front of the desk as he talks, turning Phillip’s name tag upside upside down before leaning against the desk. He waits for the audience to give him an answer, without a chance for response, before breaking down his own question.

”Well for me, I have a little bit more to carry around with me these days….”

He rolls his shoulder to draw the fan’s attention to the Roulette Championship that hangs from it. His eyes only linger on it for a second before he raises his index finger to his cheek, tapping it a few times like he is trying to think.

”Let’s see… what else...”

He snaps his fingers, having some kind of epiphany and pointing at the camera.

”Oh yeah! That is right. I haven’t lost any matches. I won the Roulette Championship. I defended the Roulette Championship. I hosted one of the most talked about Climax Control’s ever as a celebration for my birthday. I got given a show on SCW programming with the best looking female on this entire roster. I booked the main event of the very show where I embarrass this waste of human potential for a third time… Oh, and I am part of a group that contains half of the champions in this company. I guess I have been a little busy after all. What about Acquin?”

Kris does not hold back this time, nor does he wait for a response that cannot possibly come.

”Of course, I mean other than losing everything that he participates in, getting embarrassed by an unbooked Calvin Harris at Into The Void, and bitching about the fact that he does not get the same opportunities as other people. I cannot believe that I am about to say these words, but it is like he is a less talented Travis Andrews….”

He shakes his head, not liking the sound of that one.

”He is like a less successful Gabriel Asar….”

Kris waits, giving the audience time to collectively ask who the hell that even is.

”...and in case none of you remember exactly who that is, that’s kinda my point. Acquin’s one claim to fame is the fact that he was tag team champion here a couple times for a combined three months, the last of which more than two years ago. In case you don’t realize how long two years is, let me help out. Two years ago Dying Breed was good enough to be tag champions, and earlier this year Jet City wiped our asses with them. Mikah was just starting out as one of the most dominant Bombshell Champions in this company’s history. The Mean Girls were actually a little interesting. I hadn’t knocked up Liz Smalls and removed her from all of your lives yet. I could go on, and on, about all of the people that were relevant back then that none of you can even remember today, but I have made my point. Things were much different two years ago. A lot has changed. That means that people like Joshua Acquin don’t matter anymore. The world has moved on. ”

It seemed like the typical place that Kris would lay off, but something about today was different. When he laughs, there is no joy in it. He seems more irritated than anything else.

”You know what hasn’t changed about this world though? What hasn’t changed is that I was good enough to beat this guy’s ass two years ago, I proved that I was still more than capable just a few shows ago, and yet this guy is still opposite me on the card. Leading up to Into The Void, everyone but Ryan Keys was saying that I had to be sucking dick to get into the match. They said I was undeserving. Yet, I won that match. Then I went on to beat Steve Ramone to complete the hat-trick of back-to-back-to-back matches and victories against that fucking guy. I get excited to have my birthday to kick back, make some jokes, and refresh, only to be booked against the last fucking guy I beat before those matches.”

He stops, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself. It does not have any impact on his mood though. If anything, dwelling on the idea for the extra couple of seconds just make him more angry.

”He’s fucking terrible. Put that shit on record. Christian? Mark? You guys paying attention? I know you’re back this week, so you better be listening. I tried to make this match a title match, or at least toss in some Roulette rules just to make it interesting for me. Honestly, I don’t know why either of you constantly waste time shoving this kind of person down our throats. I mean the list of people demanding title shots is long. Why though? Probably because when people bitch, you both cave. How many people in this company have to tell you to kick those types to the curb before you listen? How many of us have to bitch about having to beat down the same hacks every couple of weeks? When are you both going to find a set of balls and tell them to go fuck themselves? Are you really too blind to see that people like Travis Andrews come back and demand title matches because that shit seems to work with you two? Anyone can cut a few promos demanding shit that they haven’t earned. The true test of management is ignoring it and booking things that people want to see. Rest assured, the last thing that they want to see is Joshua Acquin in a ring… at all… let alone against a champion. Nobody cares. Nobody is interested.”

He stands up on his feet, taking a step away from the desk.

”People like me are starting to realize that while we bust ass, other’s are line hopping. While people like Chelsea and I had to work our way up from show openers, people like Veronica Taylor get handed things based on the fact that she is in a group that used to be popular. Can anyone tell me what the last time was that she showed any effort or talent at all? Where was she at on the card for Into The Void, though? People sit around wondering why SCW seems off of everyone’s radar. It’s because the people that get chances here, are the same people that are jokes everywhere else. All anyone has to do is pay attention to social media to notice that.”

He shrugs, finally starting to calm down.

”But, to reuse the phrase, here’s the thing...”

He turns around one of the chairs in front of the desk to be facing the camera, and takes a seat.

”....the booking decisions, different talentless members of this roster, the history of this company, and the standing of this company in the minds of those in this industry aren’t really any of my concern. It’s not my job to police this company. Sure, it is frustrating. Sure, it pisses me off from time to time. However, come Sunday, I get every chance in the world to do something about it. Earlier this week I begged you guys to make this Roulette rules. I begged you to let me put my title on the line. Now I’m begging you to do the opposite. If you throw the rulebook out the window, if you put my title on the line, I am going to beat Joshua Acquin so far into the ground that I am never going to have to say his name again.”

He raises his left hand to point, with his index finger, at his own face.

”If you think this is some kind of joke, look at my face. This isn’t ‘Kris being funny’ or ‘Kris being Kris’. This is me telling you that if you do that, all of the things that piss me off about this company, and the people in it, are going to be dumped onto Acquin, and your ring crew is going to have to come out and scrape him off of the mat.”

He laughs.

”Consider it a dare.”