Now Playing: Warrior's Code by the Dropkick MurphysThe sounds of a bar tap filtering a dark brew into a glass is amplified in the rather dingy and quiet bar. At two thirty in the morning, a rather disheveled dark haired man can be seen sitting in front of the tap with a wreath of cigarette smoke swirling around his head as he inhales from the short cigarette in his fingers.
On the other side of the tap, a barman pushes it upwards before sliding the now full glass over the golden wood at the man who reaches for it with the hand holding the cigarette. His buddy leans on the bartop and gives Connor a smirking smile.
Devlin Lefebvre: Vixen told me that you were coming home. But she said it wasn’t until closer to the end of September. It ain’t that I am arguing but man, Ottawa and Winnipeg aren’t that close if you know what I mean.
Connor looks at his friend and pulls the glass closer then sips at the beer before smiling as he points with his fingers at Devlin.
Connor Murphy: What, I can’t help my best friend christen his newest possession. Listening to you talk about this place, it is your baby and that makes me Uncle Connor.
Devlin laughs as he moves to the register and taps a few buttons.
Devlin Lefebvre: Well then Uncle Connor, what has you here in Ottawa with a big match happening for you on Sunday in Winnipeg? And before you ask, Vixen told me that too. She says that you aren’t yourself. Care to talk about it?
Devlin raises an eyebrow as Connor shoots a look of disgust at his friend before lifting the glass to his lips again, draining the glass a third before setting it down. Taking another long drag on the cigarette, he stubs it out and then points at Devlin.
Connor Murphy: Part of me doubts why I am still worried about Sin City Wrestling. I can’t help it, I think night after night and ask myself…Self, what the hell are you doing?
Devlin Lefebvre: Do you really care that much about it Con? I mean you had opportunity after opportunity and threw them away. Don’t tell me you didn’t because I know you Connor and I could see you holding back. I remember when we were younger and you and I ran the roads…those were some fun times. You were born to fight.
Connor gets a faraway look in his eyes as a half smirk crosses his lips. Devlin can see this and points to the doorway.
Devlin Lefebvre: Use to be that someone look at you funny would get a beat down. Half the time I was right behind you saving their lives by holding you back. Now I see you in that wrestling company and you ain’t you. Calisse, you need to snap the hell out of whatever funk you are in and start being the kiss my ass fighter we both know you are.
Connor Murphy: Yeah, I don’t know where that man is anymore. You want to know the bad part of that though? Everyone sees me as a joke or less that they are because I don’t have the title in my sights. Hell I have heard every one of those jack offs talk down about me and I have stepped in the ring and every time I do, I come up this short…
Connor’s fingers are held out in front of him only a few inches apart.
Connor Murphy: I mean Dev, I am the losingest championship challenger that the federation has.
Devlin Lefebvre: So win a fucking title then.
Connor has the glass against his lips drinking the beer as his friend says that which causes him to choke and cough beer all over the bar. Devlin looks down at it as he lunges out of the way of the liquid.
Connor Murphy: You say that like it is some kind of easy task. If that was the case then I would have beat Jimmy or Despy or Goth when I faced ‘em. You don’t wrestle so back off barman.
Devlin Lefebvre: I may not wrestle Con but Vix does and from what I know and she has said, you are making yourself the joke. She saw the kind of fighter you are and she told me that you should have titles galore.
Connor Murphy: Yeah yeah, Vixen the cheerleader.
Devlin begins to swipe a damp cloth over the bar cleaning up the spilled liquid from his friend. Connor watches him for a moment, draining his glass and holding it out towards his friend who takes it and pours him another but holds it back.
Devlin Lefebvre: My sister is many things but she sees something more in you. Seriously Connor, win a fucking title and quit being a pussy.
Connor Murphy: I will have you know that I am not a pussy!
Devlin scoffs as he pours himself a drink.
Devlin Lefebvre: Sure you aren’t. You were up for the roulette title and almost won it in that six pack challenge. Then you got a shot at the Internet title and what happened?
Connor Murphy: Despayre beat me…
Devlin Lefebvre: Despayre barely beat you. And J2H, you almost pinned him too when you faced him for the Heavyweight title. Every time you go for one of those titles you pull up short. Why is that?
Connor looks at Devlin, his eyes narrowing slightly as he thinks about it. As he does, his hands move to the pack of cigarettes in front of him pulling out the cancer stick and lighting it to let the smoke curl around his ruffled hair. One final drag before he replies drifts slowly out of his mouth.
Connor Murphy: I think it is because I don’t care about titles.
Devlin Lefebvre: You don’t care? What the…
Connor Murphy: I don’t need those titles to prove who I am Dev. Besides, anyone I have ever faced for the titles needs them to define who they are. Take for example the gauntlet match that happened to fill the Heavyweight title. I remember everyone bitching about how they deserved to be champion. Hell I saw people saying they weren’t going to try for the title and then what happened? Those people pull a quick one and went for the title.
Devlin Lefebvre: And what did you do?
Connor Murphy: I said fuck it and that I wasn’t going to go for the belt and I didn’t. I didn’t need it to define me then and I don’t need it to define me now.
Devlin shakes his head as if he is unable to process what he is hearing.
Devlin Lefebvre: Come again? You don’t need the title?
Connor Murphy: Nah, besides, I am having more fun just messing with the champion Jimmy. Last week I sent him and his girl a stuffed dog that talks. A couple of weeks back I sent Jimmy a Shirley temple on the boat and I remember getting him a robot duck that told him it loved him and he kicked it into the wall and broke it. He even destroyed a gummi bear I got him as a gift.
Connor can’t help but begin to laugh at some of the antics that he pulled as Devlin shoots him a look of confusion.
Devlin Lefebvre: What sick kind of jokester are you playing at? Maybe that is why you haven’t won a title…you don’t take it seriously enough.
The laughter dies quickly as Connor sobers for a moment in contemplation then begins to nod slowly.
Connor Murphy: You know what…you are right Dev. I don’t take it seriously enough. I need to focus on getting in that ring and beating the bejesus out of Steve Ramone and Samuel Devereux this week. I do that and I am one step closer to getting another shot at Jimmy and oh what fun I can have with him then.
Devlin shakes his head at his friend who is starting to rub his hands together, a softly taunting evil laugh escaping him as he then reaches for his glass and brings it to his lips.
Devlin Lefebvre: That is seriously twisted Con. What you need to do is…
Connor Murphy: Listen Dev, I know what I need to do. But first I am going finish my beer then I am going to the room you are letting me have and catching up on my sleep then I am going to Winnipeg to win the match to face Dmitri for a chance to piss off J2H by taking his title.
Devlin watches as Connor leans back and drains his glass before slamming it on the counter top and with a smile at his friend, Connor heads towards the stairs to the entrance before stopping to turn back to Devlin.
Connor Murphy: Well are you coming or not?
Devlin nods before throwing the bar rag towards the sink behind the bar then joins his friend at the entrance to the bar as the two of them leave the building and quickly disappear after locking up.
<img src=http://i61.tinypic.com/2a9snz8.jpg>Connor Murphy: This is it, the time when I need to straighten up and fly right in the face of my opponents and give the the old verbal kick in the groin going into the match on Sunday at Climax Control. That time honoured tradition known to smarks and kayfabe fans as the match focus promo. Now let me tell you that as much as I love to talk, I ain’t about being all serious when it comes to shit like this. But people are telling me that I need to make a better impression on my opponents. So bear with me because this just might be a bumpy ride.
Connor straightens as he runs a hand through his hair as his face takes on a serious look.
Connor Murphy: This is serious, very serious. I have to face Steve Ramone and Samuel Devereux in a triple threat match on Climax Control for an opportunity to face Dmitri one on one to face J2H in a match for his title.
The serious look on Connor’s face cracks just slightly before he can’t hold back his laughter anymore and is doubled over to hold his midsection as he laughs.
Connor Murphy: Seriously, I didn’t think I could say that with a straight face. Now that I got that out of the way let me talk about the match this week and what I see coming from it.
Connor Murphy: First off we have to see that I am facing Steve Ramone, someone that whines and moans about having to have things given to him by Mark Ward. Hell he even offered his mistress as a “head” secretary to our friend Hot Stuff …
Connor makes his fingers curl in air quotes at that comment.
Connor Murphy: And already he is probably talking about how he should have beat Rage for the Internet title and if…no when he loses the match this week, he will go to Mark and beg for another shot at Rage and his title. Why not just cut out the match we both know you aren’t going to win and go directly to Mr. Ward and in your best asskissing voice demand the rematch against Rage. Did you want me to do it for you…
Connor coughs into his hand and then looks directly into the lens.
Connor Murphy: Mark Ward sir, Steve Ramone wanted me to ask you to give him a shot at Rage for the Internet title. He has somehow realized that he forgot to get some chapstick and well, doesn’t want to chafe your rear when he begs once more to make a return to relevance by facing Rage. I ain’t one to kiss ass and I sure as hell don’t want to start now but the fact that Steve Ramone thinks he can step in the ring with the big boys is playing on my heartstrings and I just want to help the little guy out. So think about it Mark Ward. Think about how your little Stevie would be as Internet champion.
Connor looks upward in contemplation, then his face changes to one of confusion.
Connor Murphy: I just can’t picture it. I guess we will have to just hope for the best for Stevie. And Samuel Devereux…sir, I have to tip my hat to you and the fact that you have so much going on yet are able to get in that ring and take a chance on possibly winning a chance to get one step closer to the Heavyweight title so early in your career in SCW. I mean you are about to be a father and I did work with your wife and I know that she has a greater partner in you than she did with me. I guess what I am trying to say is that I know how tough you are and how well the whole Angel Clan are able to wrestle and I have a helluva lot of respect for you but I ain’t going to pull any punches when it comes to the match this week. And if it means I have to fight you one on one or fight both you and Steve Ramone, then that is what I am going to do.
Connor’s face breaks into a grin as he once more runs his hand through his hair forcing some of it to flop over his forehead.
Connor Murphy: I have to start to take this serious enough to realize what I should have known all along. And that is just because I don’t think I need to wear a title to be someone, I need to win said title to get what I deserve and that is respect from the people that see me as a joke. After Climax Control, the joke is going to be on them because I am going to be telling them point blank, three little words that will sum up my attitude that is starting now. So Steve and Samuel, best of luck on Sunday. And to all the superstars of SCW and especially Jimmy Two Aitch…I got three words for ya…
He motions the camera closer then leans forwards almost conspiratorily as he whispers the three fateful words.
Connor Murphy: Póg mo thóin.
Connor turns and walks away as the image fades slowly to black.
