”It has been one wild roller coaster folks. I have been at the lowest of lows… So low, that I hope no one in the world ever has to feel that low. I have been at the top of the world, at points feeling like I might never come down. Those, of course, were not the parts that have made this journey so spectacular. It was the twists and turns that have made this, quite literally, the ride of my life. I have sailed across the seas of… unique… relationships. I have travelled down the road of parenthood twice. I have been the fans most hated asshole and most revered superstar. I have worked dark matches for promotions where you could hear crickets chirp, and I have sold out stadiums across the globe. I have made the best of friends, and the most bitter of enemies, and it feels like the ride is has just started…
I have decided to take this time to cut out all of the extras, and just shoot straight with you all. With that said… Enjoy the show…
We enter the home of Spike Staggs. The lights are shining brightly through the windows on this warm spring day. In the background, you can hear the laughter of children, and the sultry French-Canadian accent that presumably belongs to the Xtreme Bombshell, Vixen. They joyful voices echo in from the back yard. We pan inside further to enter the kitchen area. The sienna walls are lined with various family photos and random pieces of art that might evoke an abstract mind. Sitting at the long table in the open concept dining room connected to the kitchen is none other than the man of the hour, Spike Staggs. In front of him is the NWA World Heavyweight Championship. He is wearing his usual sunglasses, a plain white t-shirt, and an NXT emblem choker chain around his neck. He looks deep in thought, despite the joyful sounds coming in from the outside. He has his hands in front of his face, tapping his index fingers softly together before sighing.
Spike: It is no surprise that I have been called a rather theatric performer over the years. I have been a fan of the shock approach. Whether I want you to love me, or I want you to hate me… I know the right way to really make my actions stick in your heads. It is what I am known for. While this is normal for me, I have decided to skip the theatrics this time around. I am just going to shoot straight with you all…
Spike looks straight ahead at the camera. He pulls his sunglasses off of his face, revealing his cold blue eyes. He sets the glasses down on the table next to the NWA title. He focuses his stare for a moment before continuing.
Spike: This match against Nick Jones has been a very… very… VERY long time coming. The fans of the NWA have been pining for this, some calling it a “dream match”. Nick and I have a very sordid history… Some of it has been good, but most of it has been filled with lots and lots of bad blood. Every time I turn around, Nick Jones wants to bitch and moan about how he is better than me. He wants to say I cheated him out of the SCW title seven months ago. But, anyone who knows how to use a computer can see that this is the furthest thing from the truth. I beat his ass all over that ring. He tried to pin me to the mat, but he could NEVER! Our first SCW encounter, he has Mark Ward disqualify me because his little buddies decided to get involved, and my buddies came in for damage control. They shoved his guys into him, and I got disqualified…
Spike pulls out his cell phone, giving a quick glimpse of the video on Youtube. Rather than letting the whole match play, he fast forwards the feed to reflect his statement from before. Satisfied with his proof, he sets the phone down on the table. He runs his finger over the screen as he continues on.
Spike: Our second encounter saw us going toe to toe once again. I must admit that we kept it pretty even, but in the end, his buddies tried every little trick in the book to stop me from winning the Heavyweight Championship. They tripped me up from outside of the ring. They set his foot on the rope to break up pins. They distracted the referee, and even “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward flashes his tanned buttocks to Christian Underwood so that it wouldn’t be seen that his guys were trying their damnedest to stop me from doing what I ultimately did. I overcame the odds, and I still beat Nick Jones. I could do it again, too.
Spike shows another clip that reflects what he is saying. This time, he lets it play through the entirety, and just as he stated, so it happened. Spike stops it after a while, and he slides the phone back into his pocket and his face reflects a new level of intensity that has not yet been seen from Spike.
Spike: Since that first encounter, I have defied odds. I have proved to everyone who ever called me a joke, that they are nothing more than stupid fucking dipshits. Occasionally, I stumble upon someone who is extra idiotic, and they think I am some push over. They all find out the hard way that this simply isn’t true. Look at the list of people I have defeated over the last year, and you will see. The only way to defeat me is to royally screw me over.
Spike quickly blinks twice as he pauses. He licks at his lips as he prepares to spit venom.
Spike: And that has been done at every motherfucking twist and turn. It all comes down to one single attribute, of course… “Hot Stuff” Mark Motherfucking Ward… I won a World Championship in GXW back in 2005, and I was undefeated. Mr. Ward couldn’t stand the fact that I was on the verge of eclipsing him, so he severely fractures my leg. When he opened Sin City Wrestling, he brought me back so he could embarrass me. When he failed, he made it his personal mission to fuck me over at any and every opportunity. Even when these Team Wars started between him and Christian, and my uncle, I joined Team SCW. I fought to protect the integrity of his company. I thought for one split second that things had changed, but they did not…
Spike shoots his icy stare back to the camera, focusing in on the lens as if he could somehow murder “Hot Stuff” with a simple glare.
Spike: One of Mark’s buddies got a shot at me, and he couldn’t defeat me on his own either, so he spit poison in my eyes, and still couldn’t get me down until he hit his finisher due to the distraction. Did Mark reward me for trying to save his company? Nope! Did he even offer me a rematch? Fuck no! Should I ever expect to get a rematch? Very unlikely… Now I know I said I was cutting out all of the bullshit, but there is a point… I promise you.
Spike cracks his back and then pops his neck very loudly. Even though the joyful noises are coming in through the window, Spike seems to be completely focused still.
Spike: I have been used, abused, screwed over, looked down upon, and turned into a joke despite defying the odds. No matter what I do, someone wants to make a buck at my expense. I have been beaten down and defeated outside of the ring, where I never thought it would count. Everyone from “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward to Mr. Batee to the pimple faced teenager at the local 7 11, and everyone in between, has taken me for granted, or screwed me over, or tried to take away what is mine. When I want a Slurpee at midnight, I have to deal with the pizza faced prick. Everyone else can fuck right off. Nick Jones can fuck off. “Hot Stuff” can fuck right off. Mr. Batee? You guessed it! What does that mean?
Spike strokes his chin carefully as he pauses for dramatic effect. He looks behind him to see the children running around with Vixen. Vixen stops and puckers her lips up at Spike, gaining a momentary smile from him in the process.
Spike: What this means is that my match against Nick Jones will in fact be the huge blockbuster everyone has been waiting for. Do you know why? The answer is simple… It is because it will be my last match ever. While I have put my all into my career, and I have put on the best performances that I possibly could… I just can’t do it anymore. I have been beaten down by one too many people, and I won’t do it anymore. I refuse to become the asshole I was seven years ago. I won’t be jaded, and this is the only way I can ensure that it won’t happen. So, win or lose… June 1st, 2013… I will be officially retiring from wrestling. I don’t like you, Nick Jones… and I know the feeling is very mutual… but let us put on the most amazing show we possibly can. Let’s blow the motherfucking roof off of the Bellagio… See you at Lord of the Rings…
With that, Spike picks up the NWA title and sets it on his shoulder. He gets up from his seat at the table and walks over to the back door. After a second, he opens it up to joins his children and his lovely girlfriend and we fade out… TO BLACK!
OOC: Sorry this RP was rushed, but real life has been kicking my ass over the last two months and every time I think I couldn’t lose any more free time… Well, ya know. Thanks to everyone for giving me such a wonderful opportunity, and sorry it was short lived.
Special thanks to Mark and Brad for believing in me!
