Author Topic: Reality  (Read 1555 times)

Offline Blade Alexander

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Reality
« on: October 18, 2012, 09:51:08 PM »
 The scene opens on a balcony. Not so much on the balcony, but from just inside the apartment attached to that balcony. Sure it's nice to have a balcony, but it only overlooks a parking lot and another apartment building that looks exactly the same as this one.

While most of the balconies that can be seen hold nothing more than deck furniture now laid down or propped in a corner for the coming fall, this one holds SCW's Blade Alexander.


“In this line of work it's not very often that you get to wake up in your own bed.”

He stands, back to the camera, running a hand through his bleached blonde hair overlooking his bit of the city, then turns to face the camera.

“It's kind of sad listening to all of the guys out doing their best to promote the upcoming ACW Halloween Battle Royal and World Title match. Not sad that it's happening, that's great. Moncton has been pretty happy to host the event this year and there's buzz all over about it. It's kind of surreal to drop by the Comic Hunter and see a poster on the door with my face on it. Surreal and it feels pretty fucking sweet.”

You can see the faint whisps of mist that is his breath in the chilly mid-morning air.

“What's sad is that the majority of them seem to be on the far side of their prime. They talk about long ago fought battles and aches and pains they live with every day. They talk about the long ago loss of loved ones, time missed with family and faded glory and I get a sense that this Battle Royal is going to be very much about trying to recapture past magic for a lot of them.”

“It all started with Mike Sloan running his mouth about the NWA is going to change now that he's got the championship around his waist. He talks about how all these past names are jumping on board, just waiting to come back now that he's got the belt. There are only a myriad of problems with that Michael, and seeing as you have the kind of intellect that would struggle with the concept of a myriad, I'll break down a couple of the big ones for you.”

“First and foremost is you thinking that they're coming back because you're so damned great. That proves if nothing else you're an idiot. They come back now that you have the belt not because you're some great champion and they want to compete for a title that means so much, but because you're a joke. You think that it's great for the NWA and WCCW to have the legends come back, but what it really is, is a few men who know without a shadow of a doubt that they can beat you. They see opportunity. They see a situation where in one night, if they can survive the 20 man battle royal, they can go from the sidelines to World Heavyweight Champion just like that.”

He takes a moment to look around and take in the sight of his city and neighbourhood, and unzips the back hoodie he's been wearing just slightly.

“Point number 2 Mikey. You think it's great that all of these names are coming out of the woodwork. All of these great legendary heroes of the past that you've personally forged you career against. Only you, now on the backside of your career would look at it that way. Maybe 10 years ago getting these guys here would have been a great thing for the future, but it's not 10 years ago. Time passes, people move on. Priorities change. Health declines.”

“Mike Sloan preaches a new era in the NWA, but what he practices is getting a few of his famous old buddies back to give him a nice championship rub so he can look like a big man and just bury the fact that he couldn't legitimately get a win in the first place. But look at how many times we've been made that promise in the past in this sport. WCW. ECW. TNA. All of them trotting out the old famous names for another show down, but what we get is sad old men slower and dumber than before. Dumber for not knowing their best days are behind them. Dumber for thinking they could just get up off their couches and step back in the ring and rule over a new generation of hungry, cut throat guys who haven't seen their best moments yet.”

“You think you're giving us a new era in the NWA Mike Sloan, but all we're getting from you is all of the past in a slightly different package. All the NWA has to look forward to with you as it's champion is decline and fall. The old names come back for the promise of one more pay check, but it wont be long before they're gone again or they've cut you out of the loop for the sake of the last few dollars their name can earn them.”

“I've seen the same damned thing in every single guy that's put their name in for this shot. Arrogance built on some long forgotten legacy. Focus built on family, on kids, self-proclaimed millionaires absorbed in their own lives like they are the only ones with the right to work hard, win, and put food on their tables. I'm not hungry for food, I'm hungry for titles. I'm not going to win to rebuild a legacy based on the past, I'm going to win and start building a legacy that lives in the future.”

“The NWA is so obsessed with growing and regaining it's former glory, but it's not going to do it by just turning over the same history again. You can't go anywhere new when your entire focus is on being where you've already been. You might make the people cheer a cry of nostalgia, but even nostalgia wears off and all that's left in your mouth is that same taste of bitter disappointment. Right here in this city, that all changes.”

“You old men, the old guards may try so hard to hold on so tight to a past that's quickly slipping through your fingers, but this ground is where it slips away forever. Try the same bullshit you and that Batee pulled at Path To Glory and you're going to find yourselves the focus of a lynch mob. Not in my city. In New York they might scream out for the good old days, but here in Moncton we don't have good old days, we just have days of getting passed by and pushed aside. Mark your fucking calendars, because we're coming upon the days when we start pushing back.”

He steps inside, closing the glass door behind him and fully unzips his hoodie to reveal the white ringer t-shirt he's wearing underneath.

“That brings me to someone else running his mouth, unaware of the cash his writing with it. Calling yourself Danger only point out just how much of a threat you aren't pal. Run down Canada, go ahead. It's not for everyone, I get that. There isn't a Starbucks on every corner up here. Here we do it Tim Horton's style. Your latest up-to-date iShit isn't going to work everywhere. There's a whole lot of wilderness that maybe you just have to be Canadian to appreciate getting in the way of your reception. It might get a little cold in Canada, but we wouldn't have it any other way. Living up here has a tendency to toughen a person up. It separates the men from the boys and when get the chance to cut loose, we make the most of it. If you haven't got the balls to cut it in Canada don't whine like a bitch, just accept it and stay home. You're a cream puff who isn't going to make it here anyway. You're soft and you're going to get beaten by 19 other guys down to your DNA then thank us after because after hearing you talk for just five minutes I can already tell you need the change.”

“And as far as the whole A list babes thing, that my friend was the icing on the cake. That's really fucking priceless, I mean it. A list babes? Aren't you from Florida? You wouldn't know an A list 'babe' from some Frankenbitch put together by some overpaid surgeon. Go ahead buddy, try your game while your in town. On your way to the ring take a good long look at some of the real women sitting in the front row, take your fake tan and fake smile on over to them and try your best. It will be worth the price of admission alone to see some fiery french girl at ringside knock you the fuck out before you even get to step into the ring.”

He smirks.

“And that brings me around to the last, most pathetic entry in the whole Battle Royal. John Doe. The man so great he needs someone else to fight his verbal battles for him. That 'Voice' of his likes to think he's playing verbal chess, but I've heard more convincing arguments from Christina Aguilera. Someone as good as John Doe is supposed to be shouldn't need anyone to speak for them. They shouldn't need some verbal bully bringing up everyone else's family history to try to get noticed. Good for the Voice though. He can dig up about as much about someone's back story as your typical ambulance chasing lawyer or telemarketing bill collector. That's not going to win you matches. Slinging personal dirt against people who make their living by beating up others is only going to make you a target. If you can pull yourself up off the Colosseum floor after you've been embarrassed and you want to make another attempt at wrestling for a living, then think about dumping that guy as your representative Doe, and start speaking your own mind.”

“I could run the entire lot of you who want to make your participation in the Halloween Battle Royal known down verbally until the event actually happens, but I haven't got the time nor the patience to continually point out your own hypocrisy and stupidity. I could berate the lot of you about your lack of focus or underestimation of a guy like me in this event, and I could event write a book on how sad it is to see a guy like Mike Sloan buy into the hype that a guy like him is in any way original, cutting edge, interesting, entertaining, a leader, or someone to lead the NWA into the future, but rather that just talk about it I'd rather invite each and every one of you into my home here in Moncton, to grab yourself a costume, jump in the ring and one by one weed everyone out until at the end of the night I'm still standing tall. The darkhorse from SCW that everyone tried to bury among family and friends as the new NWA World Heavyweight Wrestling Champion. A true leader for a new era in professional wrestling.”

He shrugs and smiles again.

“Hell of a way to celebrate Halloween, painting Mountain Road red with blood. Maybe I'll just make it quick and have time to check out the haunted house after.”

Fade.