”Spike…SPIKE! How do you feel about the return of Roxanne?”
”Did you NOT just watch the show, jackass? I swear, people need to get their heads out of their asses when they approach me with questions like that…”
Spike shakes his head as he walks through the door to the outside area. He lowers his shades, as the flashing camera lights glare off of the lenses. He shoves the door the rest of the way open, rather surprised at the amount of people outside. He adjusts his NXT muscle shirt as his black jeans sport dozens of chains hanging from every which way. Following right behind him are “The Freight Train of Pain” Casey Williams, and the corrigible Odette Ryder, collectively known as New X-Tremes. Like rock stars, the tandem struts by the cameras, allowing every single shot to be nothing but a perfect reflection of their true selves. Odette is the sexy, bubbly, anti-diva. Casey is a pure powerhouse, like a volcano about ready to erupt. And Spike is an enigmatic rock star, mysterious in his presentation, but electric in everything he does. Blowing off the reporter, he continues on until he hears another question off in the distance.
“Spike, what made you decide to recruit Odette Ryder to New X-Tremes?”
Saying nothing, Spike instead picks Odette up, much to her surprise. He hoists her onto his shoulders for everyone to see her wearing the NXT tank top. She throws a fist into the air in excitement, fist pumping to get the crowd even more riled up. He looks up at her, knowing it was not a mistake bringing her into the New X-Tremes. After a moment of showing off, Odette slides down Spike’s back, jumping into Casey’s arms which catches him by surprise. Spike looks on with a toothy smile as he thinks to himself.
”I have no doubt in my mind that I have done the right thing here. Odette is an untamed wildfire. Once she finds her place within our family, she will learn to train that heat, and use it to skyrocket herself to the top of the Bombshell division.”
“Would you care to comment on any possible retaliation against Matthew Kennedy and his estranged bodyguard, Jason Burnside, for the attack that put you out of action for nearly a month?”
Spike’s face immediately drains of any true emotion. The excitement and electricity fades away for a solid minute as he does his best to contain his own anger. It takes every bit of will power within him not to haul off and punch the reporter in the face. On the outside, he appears very stone faced. He slowly shakes his head as he walks on in celebration with Odette and Casey.
”That little dipshit will get what is coming to him, I assure. Nobody gets away with breaking my bones, and putting me out of action for any length of time. But, instead of looking like a loose cannon on television, I will save my rage and channel it where it counts…”
“SPIKE! The world wants to know what your plans are for your school since your notable student, Cameron Matthews, was released from his Sin City Wrestling contract!”
”When you don’t want to do the work, then you don’t get the fame. Simple as…”
Spike moves on, as if he hadn’t heard that last question either. He looks over to a group of fans who are loyally sporting NXT gear and signs. He walks up to them and gives each one of them a hard-hitting high five. Casey and Odette join them as well. Spike yanks a camera out of one of the fan’s hands and snaps a picture of himself with the fans patting his back and doing their own poses. He grins and returns the camera back to the fan that jumps up and down excitedly. Spike even does the presidential kissing a baby’s head before turning around to look at the other row of fans. It is here that Spike starts to really feel a tearing from within, making it harder to maintain his composure.
“How do you feel about Misty’s Tweets, calling New X-Tremes a bunch of losers?”
”Pathetic is what it is. Maybe jealousy? It is the actions of a pissed off woman who realizes that she gave up her opportunity to be a part of something bigger than herself is no longer available to her. Sorry sweetheart, your loss and Odette’s gain.”
Spike doesn’t say a word, but he can’t help thinking it very, VERY strongly. He brushes past the stream of reporters lining the outside of the arena, showing no sign of being phased by their hazing questions. He simply smiles and moves along, stopping for the occasional picture with a fan or by a reporter. His good mood shows no sign of ending as he proudly sports his two enthusiastic stable mates at his side. They even stop to do an NXT pose, crossing their arms against their chests in an “X”, then flexing off into their own unique poses. This elicits a cheap pop from the fans gathered amongst the reporters.
“Do you feel there was more conspiracy surrounding your brother’s loss at King of the Death Match?”
Spike stops dead in his tracks. He takes a few steps back, coming right up against the side of Odette Ryder and Casey Williams. He cocks his head to the side, curiously, as he rubs his chin. He looks over to Casey who shrugs, and then he turns to Odette, who is busy blowing kisses to the hundreds of fans that are surrounding the reporters. He lifts his glasses up to his forehead so that this particular reporter, a nerdy looking guy sporting the “still lives in his mother’s basement” couture. His mouth is gaping in surprise at the statement before he simply shakes his head in disgust.
Spike: I haven’t said this to anyone in THE longest time, but… Fuck right off, buddy. What is it with you fan-boy-gone-reporter types? You know, I blame you fucks for starting this whole conspiracy theory anyway. Although it doesn’t happen very often, we Staggs boys do lose from time to time. It is what happens when your talent brings out the best in your opponents. There are a few things that Staggs boys are not… We are not bitches. We are not punks. We are not crybabies. We accept our losses like big boys, and we work that much harder to be better for the next time.
Spike makes sure that everyone is watching and taking notice of his words at this time. Odette looks to Casey, wondering if she should inject some of her bubbly personality to lighten the mood. Casey shakes his head and then looks back to Spike with a nod. Spike pulls his shades off of his face and gently tucks them into the neck of his tank top. Leaning in closer to the reporter, he rips the microphone from the man’s hand. He takes a deep breath before continuing.
Spike: Have you heard my brother cry about losing? For that matter, did you hear ME cry about losing to Jack Kraven?
Reporter: No…
Spike: NO! We fight with honor, and we lose with honor, so long as we tried our best. Then we correct our mistakes. Too bad I can’t say the same thing for my Lord of the Rings opponent. Now if you will excuse me…
”Spike! Spike!”
Spike shoves the microphone back into the reporter’s chest violently before pulling his shades out and placing them back on his face. He shakes off the encounter with amazing grace as his rock star smile returns to his face. He looks down to Odette Ryder, who is nodding her head with approval of Spike’s statements. Casey folds his arms across his chest very menacingly as he backs Spike up as well. Spike leads the way to the celebratory black limousine that is waiting for them at the end of the walkway. He opens the door himself, and allows Odette and Casey inside before himself. He takes a moment, pausing to look back to the camera. With a very collected face, he offers a wink before lowering his shades.
Spike: Ladies first…
He hears a roaring verbal assault from within from Casey, as well as the bubbly laughter of a cheerful Odette. Spike places one foot inside of the limo, then the other. He is standing inside of it while leaning outward with his hands cupped around his mouth.
Spike: TO THE AFTER PARTY!!!
He taps the roof of the limo two firm times before he gets inside, closing the door with force. The limo drives all of fifty feet to a large tent set up outside of the Glacier Gardens. It stops just in time to hear the music starting up from inside. The tandem gets out of the limousine and they walk into the tent where a loud pop erupts from those within and the scene fades out.
It has been far too long, NWA fans and colleagues. What’s that, you say? I was just in front of your cameras a few short months ago? I’m hurt… Didn’t you miss me? Of course you did. I’m Spike F’n Staggs. I am training an army, known as the next generation of wrestling. I am making sure all of my past mistakes are not passed on to them, just as those before me had done during my training. I am also making sure that all of my past mistakes are corrected.
Speaking of past mistakes, I have learned from my encounter with Jack Kraven, a man I had never faced before. He is a man that I had underestimated greatly. I thought I knew what he was capable of, and I made the mistake of thinking I was in the clear when I should have continued my assault. Arrogance holds no real value inside of the wrestling ring. Confidence, on the other hand, has always been my greatest weapon. Sometimes I confuse the two, but that is something that I refuse to do this time around. Instead, I will go into this match with eyes wide open, and a positive attitude.
Does that mean that I am not going to bring my anger with me? Does it mean that I am going to try to shake Kraven’s hand again? No, it doesn’t. It just means that I will channel my anger into my second greatest weapon going into this match. All naïve thoughts will be left at the curtain. If I have it my way, this match will be a blood bath, and it will serve to show my fellow New X-Tremes members how to turn it to eleven and steal the show. Especially Odette, the sweet, uncorrupted one.
What I am here to say to you tonight does not involve the recruitment of my latest New X-Tremes member, Odette Ryder. (insert cheap pop here) It does not involve my recent injury which I have just been cleared from, at the hands of “Primetime” Matthew Kennedy. It isn’t about the return of my supposedly dead ex fiancé (the first one, mind you). I will not bore you with the details of my heartache, or my personal life. The topic at hand is one, Jack Kraven, nothing more, and nothing less.
It is no secret that he and I have a ton of unfinished business. With the supposed controversy surrounding our first match up, you are probably expecting me to say that the loss I suffered that night has been eating me up inside. Of course, there is that little voice in the back of my head that is trying to tell me that I don’t stand a chance at winning against Kraven at Lord of the Rings. That is a given. Anyone who is knocked down in their quest for the top prize will tell you that getting up and dusting off is much easier said than done.
The difference is that I have never been one to take the easy way out. I have never given up on any goal that I have set my mind to. When I was opening shows against other no-names, I told myself that I would become a household name one day. A few short months later, and every day since, I have made good on that promise. Upon entering the NWA, I began climbing the rankings rapidly. It made sense that when Jack Kraven was touring Sin City Wrestling, that I would be the one to challenge him. The respect I had for that man was immense. I could take you through the play by play, and remind you of the barbeque sauce and the two on one attack with a steel chair by his pansy ass and his friend. I could talk about our match, and all of the politics that surrounded it, but that would make me a sore loser, which is something I refuse to ever be. I could piss and moan and cry and throw a tantrum, but the point is rather moot.
Instead of discussing any of those things, I will instead look toward my future; my “golden” future. I will mention that my head has never been more cleared in my life. I know what I must do, and failure is truly not an option here. I must walk into Lord of the Rings, and into that steel cage, carrying only my hopes and dreams of being a World tier champion. I will walk out with that belt if it is the last thing I ever do. Mark my words, world. I have been knocked down enough times. I have been kicked in the gut more times than I will ever care to admit. I have tasted defeat, and I have tasted my own blood which tastes similar to the steel chair that was nearly wrapped around my head. It is now time for me to taste the sweetness of a victory over Jack Kraven, in front of the fans watching in Puerto Rico.
Not only will I taste victory, but I will make it my personal goal to make Jack Kraven taste steel. I will make him taste his own blood as I grind his face against the cage. I will embarrass him, not with barbeque sauce, or with some kind of cheap (yet extremely amusing and often imitated) gesture of comedy. I will embarrass Mr. Kraven by making him eat every one of his words. I will embarrass him by making him regret the day he decided to make a mockery of my name. I will take what is most precious to him when I climb out of that cage and take “his” title… MY title.
Scene 2: Mr. Clever
”Being a smartass is my job, bruv.”
Spike and Jamie stand in the middle of a high school football field. The CBC Cadet’s logo is emblazoned onto the Astroturf as they stand at the fifty yard line. The mighty purple and gold, symbolizing the regal nature of the private school that Spike graduated from, brings him a mixed look of disdain and pride all at once. He holds the football tightly in his hand as the birds eye view slowly pans downward. As it does, Spike is seen wearing a purple jersey. The feeling of the material against his skin is a true first in his lifetime. Jamie looks around with a smile on his face. However, Spike’s expression is anything but joyous. He takes a look around under the night sky, seeing nothing outside of the range of the stadium style lighting.
Spike: That makes no sense, James… Dumbass University Vale-Dick’d-torian, a smartass?
Jamie: I thought we settled that when I broke your freakin’ nose twenty years ago. It’s Jamie, ree-ree… James sounds so e-feminine dude. Like I should have a lisp all the sudden.
Spike: Do you mean… effeminate?
Jamie: Whatever with you… with your “private school education” and your “daily showers” thinking you are better than me.
Spike jabs the football into Jamie’s chest before retracting the ball back to his chest. He cracks a smile, and then tosses the ball high into the air, attempting to catch it. As he is about to, Jamie does a volleyball style spike, knocking it to the ground behind Spike. Jamie jogs around and picks up the ball as Spike turns around. Once he does, he reveals the number 5, with STAGGS printed above it.
Jamie: Take off that stupid jersey. What kind of a dipshit has a custom made jersey that is making fun of them? Only you, Spike… Only you.
Spike: It’s called making a point, Jamie. You should try it in your promos sometime. Who knows, you might even get a shot at a worthwhile championship.
Jamie: Like the BACW Heavyweight Championship? I will at the end of the month, after I win my next match.
Jamie stomps his foot as if he has learned how to make a point all of a sudden. He fakes out Spike before dashing past him. Spike does his best to catch up to his brother, but Jamie stays a foot ahead of him the entire time as he makes it all the way to the end zone. Jamie drops the ball and does a crazy legs dance while mocking Spike.
Jamie: Maybe Kraven was right. You should keep that jersey, sucka what?!
Spike rolls his eyes at Jamie as he picks the ball up again. Spike clutches the ball tightly, giving his brother a deadly stare. Spike starts walking back to the fifty yard line, leaving Jamie behind for a moment. Jamie starts jogging to catch up to Spike.
Jamie: Oh come on, man. I was just yanking your scrote dude. Are you really gonna get brought down by a guy who doesn’t even got the sack to come after me for what I did to him at Wrestle Classic? He has his little buddies fight his battles? Dude’s a real puss who hides behind a Mr. Clever personality. He only beat you by the hair on his balls…
Spike offers a slight chuckle at his brother’s words, lightening up his expression. Spike narrows his eyes with his signature half smile, leaving Jamie a little confused. Spike shakes his head from side to side for a moment before looking up at the sky.
Spike: For a straight guy, you are awfully obsessed with Kraven’s mythical testicles. Or, just testicles in general.
Jamie: Mythical? Do you mean because I am the one who punked him at Wrestle Classic in January, yet he attacks you instead?
Spike: Exactly. You have been wrestling in his home fed for how long now? And he hasn’t even so much as tried to get revenge on you. He comes after me. Or, should I say, his friend comes after me from behind.
Jamie: That’s what she said!
Jamie capitalizes on the fact that Spike has just hit a face palm, and he quickly grabs the ball out of his brother’s hands and begins running toward the end zone again. Spike chases after his brother, gaining on him quickly. However, Jamie reaches the end zone before Spike can get to him. Jamie acts as if he can hear the crowd cheering him on as he works the end zone edge to edge. On his way back around, Spike smacks him upside his head, grimacing. Jamie winces and pouts as he looks to his older brother.
Jamie: Suck it, dork! You just hate me coz you ain’t me. I’ve been schooling you here all night, and you’re just jealous. It’s like…
Jamie slowly begins counting on his fingers, trying his best to tally up the score. He gets to a seventh finger and then he taps his chin in confusion. Spike grins as he waits to hear the official score.
Jamie: … I’m not a math-magician, but I’m kicking your ass. I hope you wrestle better than you play football.
Spike: For one thing, I didn’t realize you were taking this so seriously. Secondly, we’re not even really playing football. And last of all, I am a wrestler, not a football player. Of all people, I would have expected you to be the one person who doesn’t doubt me. But that’s okay. I forgive you, brother. And when I destroy Jack Kraven at Lord of the Rings, I will have surprised yet another person. The sad part is that most people see me as the underdog.
Jamie acts as if he is listening to his brother, however, the glazed over look in his eyes proves otherwise. He is simply nodding his head as he looks off into the distance. Spike shakes his head and lets out a sigh. Suddenly, he grabs a hold of the football in his brother’s hands and dashes past him toward the end zone. Jamie shakes out the cobwebs and begins running after Spike. He lunges for Spike’s legs, but he jumps up to avoid getting tangled up, and he continues on to the end zone. He turns around and begins taunting Jamie with crotch chops. He turns around and sticks his backside out a little and motions for Jamie to kiss it. Jamie growls as he approaches the end zone and Spike yanks off his jersey. He sets it down on the ground crouches over it. His face strains as Jamie begins laughing almost hysterically. Spike sighs as he stands back up, his pale, bare chest almost seeming to shine in the moonlight.
Spike: Now that is what I truly think of that fucking jersey. Mr. Clever is about to get a rude awakening in that steel cage. Maybe I should wear it to the ring. I am not above wrestling in ridiculous things like that. It just makes my opponents look worse for getting their asses kicked by a guy wearing a jersey that says he sucks. And if Kraven really thinks that I suck that badly, then he will get corrected really quickly once that door locks and there is nowhere to hide, and no back up to save him.
Jamie: Blah, blah, blah, punt that shit bruv!
And with that, Jamie begins running backward down the field. Spike takes a few steps backward as he watches his brother run down the field. Just as when they were children, Jamie was the naïve one who never saw a thing coming. He always missed the point because he was busy living in his own little world. Perhaps it protected him in the past. Spike snaps back to reality as his younger brother reaches the opposing end zone. He takes a few calculated steps forward before dropping the ball and punting it clear across the field. Jamie quickly waivers back and forth in order to catch the football. Just seconds before the ball lands, he steadily scoops it into his arms. He dashes forward as Spike stands there.
”This is where everybody underestimates me. I am like a cobra waiting to strike. I appear aloof, calm and calculated. Whether it is my brother, or Jack Kraven, I wait for the right time to strike, and it is always deadly. Jack Kraven will likely sit back and spread more anti-Staggs propaganda, demoralizing my entire life and everyone in my life down to my third grade gym teacher. I applaud him for that, because while he is mocking the great country of Germany, my friends, and my family, I am working out the strategy that will take him down. I implore him to be the predictable Jack Kraven, because I will be the eccentric, unpredictable Spike Staggs. No mistakes this time, Jack. Are you ready?”
As Jamie gets close enough, Spike dashes forward. Jamie attempts to weave around his brother, but Spike doesn’t go for a defensive tackle. He doesn’t go for the legs. Instead, he leaps into the air, wrapping his arm around his brother’s neck, and he twists around with a Tornado DDT that embeds his brother’s head against the turf. He picks the ball up off of the ground over his still brother. He slowly begins walking down the field with a smirk on his face.
”I hope so, Jackie boy. I wouldn’t want you to claim that you weren’t prepared for the beating that lies ahead of you. I don’t want to leave you with any other options besides admitting that I got the better of you. My brother is living proof that the Staggs family always gets the last laugh. We just dispute what counts for humor. Jamie enjoys calling people dorks and kicking them in the nuts. I enjoy making people atone for their sins with their blood. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, I know you have a few friends that you like helping with your dirty work, so I will bring my own crew to settle the score. Lord of the Rings is about to be taken to New X-Tremes…”
As Spike makes it down to the end zone, he simple drops the ball and walks off of the field. The moon reflects in his sadistic smile as he walks through the gate and past the bleachers. He disappears into the night as the camera checks on Jamie who is just staring up at the sky muttering obscenities toward his brother.
