Thursday 15th May
The scene opens to show a white sign, at the top of which, in large black letters, is the name "Grangetown." Below that, in smaller letters, are the words "Alight here for the Cardiff City Stadium," and below that, in green, is the Welsh translation; this is the railway station that serves the district of Grangetown, in the south of Cardiff - which at present, is bathed in sunshine, with a clear blue sky visible in the background.
Stood by the sign - slightly to the right of it - is Simon Jones; he is wearing pale blue jeans, and a green t-shirt that has the logo of the Green Bay Packers on it. Simon is currently looking at a brown, cuboid-shaped package, that he is holding in his right hand; Simon turns his attention away from the package, to look at the camera, and begins to speak.
Simon: 'With the finale of SCW's tour of Africa drawing ever nearer, I am currently in the midst of training for the match that I will be competing in ten days from now, when I will be defending the SCW Heavyweight Championship, against Sean Jackson. And so, with the big match - and the even bigger show - just over a week away, I though it was about time that I spoke on that subject.'
Simon quickly glances over his shoulder, towards the sign on the platform, before looking back at the camera.
Simon: 'This time next week, I will be in Cape Town, finalising my preparations for the match. For now though, I am in my adopted hometown of Cardiff - as I will be for the next few days - where I have based myself throughout the duration of the tour of Africa. And after last week showing you all some of the Welsh countryside, this week I find myself stood in what has to be a contender for the least idyllic location in which I have discussed a match - while the architecture of some stations on the British rail network would make for a pleasant backdrop, this particular station is most certainly not one of them.'
Simon raises his right hand slightly, bringing the package that he is holding, more prominently into view.
Simon: 'The reason for the dreary setting is that I have just come from the Royal Mail sorting office, a couple of hundred yards away from here - which I had to visit to collect this parcel.'
Simon looks down, at the item in his hand.
Simon: 'I don't know what this is - I don't remember ordering anything; it must be something that my wife bought online, and had delivered in my name.'
Simon looks back to the camera.
Simon: 'It isn't always glamorous, being a professional athlete - we still have to do mundane tasks, such as collecting undelivered mail. Well, unless you can afford to pay someone to do such tasks for you; which I can't - I'm not like Jimmy Ringo, or Brittany York. So that's why I'm here, waiting for the next train that stops at Cathays. And it's because I'm waiting for a train, that I'm recording this video now: it will be several minutes yet, and I thought that this would be as good a way as any, to kill time.'
Simon turns his head to look to his left, momentarily; he then turns back to face the camera.
Simon: 'Let's go over there - we risk encountering some uninvited guests if we stay here.'
Simon then turns to his left again, and walks in that direction, with the camera following him, maintaining the same distance. However, Simon soon turns around, and faces the camera, while walking backwards.
Simon: 'In case you're wondering who it is that I was just talking to, let me explain, that the camera with which this video is being recorded, is being held by a friend of mine, called Luke. In fact, let's show you what Luke looks like.'
Simon stops, and with his left hand, he reaches in the direction of the camera. The view from the camera then spins around one hundred and eighty degrees, to show a man that looks to be in his early thirties, who is unshaven, and has messy dark brown hair; he is wearing black jeans, and a plain, light brown t-shirt.
Simon: 'Say hello, Luke.'
Luke speaks with a Somerset accent.
Luke: 'Hello, Luke.'
Simon: 'Please, leave the jokes to me. Luke, let me ask you a question: who do you think is going to be the winner of the main event of Chaos In Cape Town - me, or Sean Jackson?'
Luke: 'You. But then, you're a mate of mine, so I have to say that.'
Simon: 'Errr...good enough. Here, you can have this back now.'
Luke reaches out with both of his hands, as the camera is passed back to him, resulting in the view then spinning back around one hundred and eighty degrees, to again show Simon. Simon turns his back to the camera, and resumes walking in that direction, with the camera - and Luke - again following behind him. Simon walks past a lamppost, before coming to a stop by a relatively large brick flower box, that contains an abundance of daffodils - the national flower of Wales; Simon tuns back to face the camera.
Simon: 'Right, I think this will work.'
Luke too then comes to a stop, fixing the camera on Simon, with the flowers behind him.
Simon: 'Five days ago, Sean Jackson and I teamed up to defeat the pairing of Andrew Garcia and Kain. However, once that match had concluded, the image that people were left with wasn't of the two of us having our hands raised by Jasmine St. John - no, it was of me being laid out on the canvas, and of Sean Jackson holding aloft the ACW Championship, while he looked down upon me, proud of what he had done; having re-watched the incident, I got to hear Belinda Simone pose the question, "Will it be that way at Chaos In Cape Town?" Well, I'm determined to make sure that, at the end of the main event of Chaos In Cape Town, the scene that the show closes on will look vastly different to the sight from last Sunday.'
Simon places his package on the wall of the flower box.
Simon: 'If anyone was in any doubt as to the kind of person that Sean Jackson is, those doubts should now have been put to rest. Prior to the tag team match on Sunday, Jackson did his best portrayal of someone that genuinely believed I was going to turn on him during the match - I guess that was simply "The Mental Rapist" living up to his name. However, as I just mentioned, it was he that attacked me, rather than the other way - and he did so from behind, no less. I can promise you now, Sean, that you won't have it your way so easily in ten days' time - you certainly won't catch me with my back turned.'
Simon rubs his chin.
Simon: 'Last Sunday, Sean, you may have been looking down upon me literally, but I get the feeling that, metaphorically, you have looked down upon me for longer than that - I get the feeling you're another of the ones that is of the opinion that I shouldn't be the SCW Heavyweight Champion; you know, despite me having done everything that I can to earn the right to be the champion - twice. I think I can say for a fact, Sean, that you look down on me because - unlike yourself - I embrace the support of the fans, whereas you insult them every time you have a microphone to your lips. But I wonder if there's something else that makes you of the opinion that you're superior to me - say, for example, that you're the "true" NWA Heavyweight Champion, whereas I never rose further than being the Cruiserweight Champion.'
Simon sits down on the wall of the flower box, to the right of his package.
Simon: 'Yes, I know that the name of the NWA is mud in SCW, but I can't talk about myself and Sean Jackson without at least briefly mentioning that organisation. That my greatest achievement in the NWA was winning the Cruiserweight Championship, isn't something that I look back on with a feeling of disappointment. Some people - Casey Williams, for example - might complain about not being given the opportunities that they think they deserve, but I don't reflect on my time in the NWA and its regions, and get a sense that I was held back, behind other wrestlers that were arguably less talented than myself; I'm not a pint of SA* - I'm not bitter.'
Simon shakes his head.
Simon: 'Being well aware of his own achievements in the NWA, I was excited when Sean Jackson joined SCW earlier this year - I was excited about the prospect of potentially getting to test myself against him, at some point in the future. When I arrived in SCW, twelve months ago, I made no secret that part of my motivation for joining the promotion, was so I could show that I wasn't merely a good cruiserweight, but that I was a good wrestler, regardless of weight class. And, two reigns as SCW Heavyweight Champion later, I'd like to think I've achieved that. But this match against Sean Jackson, I see this as being like the final examination, at the end of a year-long course - in my case, at the end of my first year in SCW. In Cape Town, it will be the true NWA Heavyweight Champion, against the true NWA Cruiserweight Champion; having studied hard, I'm all set to pass this test, and retain my title - and to perhaps also show that, had events panned out differently, I could have been more than just the Cruiserweight Champion in the NWA.'
Simon glances down at the floor for a second or two, before looking back up at the camera, and continuing.
Simon: 'You see, when I selected Sean Jackson to be my opponent at Chaos in Cape Town, I said that I wanted to give the SCW fans the best match possible - which I do. But there's more to it than that: there's also a matter of pride - defeating an opponent of the calibre of Sean Jackson will give me more satisfaction than beating someone of lesser ability would. Jackson...'
Luke interrupts Simon.
Luke: 'Is this us?'
Simon turns his head towards the right of the shot; the sound of an approaching train can be heard.
Simon: 'No, this is the Bargoed train.'
Simon looks back to the camera, and speaks with a somewhat sarcastic tone.
Simon: 'Is it okay with you if I continue?'
Luke: 'Sure, go ahead.'
Simon: 'Thank you.'
The sound of the train's brakes being applied can be heard, as it comes to a stop at the station.
Simon: 'Sean Jackson said that I chose him because I want to cause a rift in Hot Stuff International. Now, I don't know whether or not he actually believes that - again, it may just be another example of The Mental Rapist being The Mental Rapist - but regardless of that, I can assure you all that I have no interest in causing a rift in Hot Stuff International; I have no wish to get caught up in gang warfare - I'll leave that to the likes of HSI, and the New XTremes.'
Simon pauses, as the train pulls away from the station; once the noise from the train diminishes, Simon continues.
Simon: 'I've already passed up the chance to join NXT - I'm not about to change my mind in that regards; I'm more of a...'
Again, Simon finds himself being interrupted by his friend/cameraman.
Luke: 'Lone wolf?'
Simon scoffs at the suggestion.
Simon: 'I'm nothing that pertains to a wolf - or wolves; if anything, I suppose I would be a lone Bluenose.'
Simon shrugs his shoulders.
Simon: 'Sean Jackson will do anything that he possibly can to gain an advantage - such as, aligning himself with one of the owners of SCW; he is a self-serving careerist. I, on the hand, prefer to do things with more integrity, to give the company - and its fans - a Heavyweight Champion that they can be proud of.'
Simon smiles.
Simon: 'Ah yes, the fans. I have already mentioned how Sean Jackson feels about the fans. Sean Jackson also sneers at the connection that I have with the fans - he condemned both Drake Green and Michael Hardy for that, too. Well, Sean, you might not care what the fans want, but I do; with the money that they spend on tickets and merchandise, the fans are the ones that pay our wages - which is why I always want to reward them with an entertaining spectacle. Also, there's a certain thrill, and excitement, that comes from performing in front of a crowd - without the fans at ringside, it just wouldn't be the same.'
Simon shakes his head again.
Simon: 'Sean, you can ridicule me all you like, for wanting to satisfy the fans, but I'm not ashamed of it; I've already shown that nice guys don't always have to finish last - and Electra Styles is doing a good job of showing that nice girls don't have to finish last, too. You told the fans that whatever you did to Drake Green would be their fault; you said something similar about Michael Hardy. Well, whatever happens in ten days' time, Sean, the fans can't be held accountable. Although, having said that, I know what the fans want: they want to see me beat you, Sean Jackson - and I intend to give them that. So, should I indeed be victorious at Chaos In Cape Town, then maybe you could blame the fans for your defeat - they certainly would have helped inspire me to it.'
Simon's smile broadens slightly.
Simon: 'You claim, Sean, that when I chose you to be my opponent, that I committed career suicide. Now, I'm well aware of the injuries that Drake Green suffered as a consequence of his match against you at Blaze Of Glory III, but I'm not worried about the same happening to me - after all, in any match that I participate in, I'm only ever one wrong move away from suffering a career-ending injury. You can tell people, Sean, that by choosing you I signed my own death warrant, when in actuality what I did, is that I created an opportunity for me to continue to etch my name into SCW history: at Blaze Of Glory, I simultaneously retained the Heavyweight Championship, and won the Blast from the Past tournament; at Chaos In Cape Town, I'll aim to again retain my title, and in the process, unify it with that title that you carry around.'
Simon turns his head towards the right of the shot; he then looks back to the camera, and stands up.
Simon: 'Like the train that will take myself and Luke away from this station, Chaos In Cape Town is rapidly approaching. And like a journey on public transport, my match against Sean Jackson won't be without moments of discomfort. But in the end, I'll get to where I want to be: for this train journey, that means home, to my wife; for the match in Cape Town, that means to me being still, the SCW Heavyweight Champion.'
Simon picks up his package; as the sound of another train can be heard, the scene fades to black.
*A beer brewed in Cardiff.
Saturday 17th May
The scene opens to show the inside of The Great Western, a pub in Cardiff. It is still comparatively early on in the evening, as a result of which, there are not currently many people to be seen on the pub's upper floor. Moreover, only two people are visible at present: in the foreground of the shot, stood just away from the bar, are Simon Jones, and his friend Luke; Simon is wearing dark blue jeans and a red shirt, whereas Luke is wearing navy blue jeans, and a plain, black t-shirt.
Simon glances over at the bar, and then looks back to Luke; it is Simon that is the first of the pair to speak.
Simon: 'Shall we get a drink, while we wait for them to arrive?'
Luke: 'Yep.'
Simon: 'Alright, my round then.'
The two men step towards the bar; as Simon waits for a member of staff, he turns his attention back to Luke.
Simon: 'What do you want? Tuborg? Guinness?'
Luke: 'Tuborg.'
A bartender then appears.
Bartender: 'Hi. What can I get you?'
Simon: 'Two pints of Tuborg, please.'
Simon and Luke look on patiently, as the bartender pulls the first of the two pints; after the pint is placed on the bar, by the bartender, Simon picks up the glass, and passes it to Luke.
Luke: 'Thanks.'
Simon: 'You're welcome.'
Luke sips at his beer, as the bartender pulls the second pint; once poured, the bartender places the full glass on the bar, in front of Simon.
Bartender: 'That's six fifty, please.'
Simon pulls his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans; he takes a note from the wallet, and hands it over to the bartender. The bartender then opens the cash register, and gives Simon his change.
Simon: 'Thanks.'
Bartender: 'Thank you.'
Simon puts the change into his wallet, and then puts his wallet away; as the bartender wanders off, out of view, Simon picks up his pint of Tuborg, turns away from the bar, and looks at Luke.
Simon: 'Right, shall we sit down over there?'
Between sips, Luke nods his head. The camera pans to the right as Simon - followed by Luke - walks towards a rectangular wooden table, which is opposite the bar. On the far side of the table is a black, two seater sofa, and on the near side are two wooden chairs; Luke takes a seat on the sofa, while Simon sits down on one of the chairs. After sitting down, the pair clink their glasses.
Luke: 'Cheers!'
Simon: 'Cheers!'
Simon then takes a drink from his glass, but before Luke can take another sip of his own pint, his attention is drawn to something else.
Luke: 'Here's Joe.'
Simon puts his glass down on the table, and turns to look to his right, as into view walks a thin man in his late twenties, whose hair is mostly brown, but with some grey, at odds with his age; he is wearing light blue jeans, and a black shirt. Simon gets up from his seat to greet Joe, and the two shake hands.
Joe: 'Alright?'
Simon: 'I'm alright, thanks.'
Simon glances over his shoulder, towards Luke, before looking back to Joe.
Simon: 'Sorry, I just bought Luke and I a drink; I didn't think you were going to be here so soon, otherwise I would have gotten you a pint, too.'
Joe: 'It's okay - I'll get myself a pint now, and then come over and join you.'
As Joe walks off to the bar, Simon retakes his seat.
Simon: 'I don't remember Joe having so much grey hair.'
Luke: 'Grey hair? Joe? I can't say I've noticed.'
Simon: 'He...'
Simon sighs, exasperatedly.
Simon: 'You know what, never mind.'
Simon and Luke each then drink some point of their respective pints. As they put their glasses back down on the table, Joe reappears, carrying two pints of his own; he puts one of the glasses on the table, next to Simon's, and then takes a seat on the sofa, alongside Luke.
Simon: 'I'm guessing that's for Coel.'
Joe: 'Yeah, I saw him outside, having a smoke, so I told him I would have a drink waiting for him.'
Luke: 'Speak of the devil.'
The trio turns to look, as into view walks a slightly chubby man in his early thirties, who has dark brown hair; he is wearing dark blue jeans, and a white t-shirt that has a skull on it.
Coel: 'Alright, boys?'
Coel sits down on the chair next to Simon, and raises his right hand; Simon high fives him. Coel then points to the untouched pint in front of him, on the table, and looks at Joe.
Coel: 'Is that mine?'
Joe: 'Yup.'
Coel lifts up his glass.
Coel: 'Thanks, mate.'
Joe: 'No problem, buddy.'
Coel and Joe both then have a sip of their pints; after putting his glass down on the table, Coel looks back to Simon.
Coel: 'So, how's Vegas?'
Simon: 'It's good, thanks; the weather is certainly better in Vegas than it is in South Wales. How's life in Barry?'
Coel: 'Good too, thanks.'
Simon turns to Joe.
Simon: 'And you: how's Portishead? Luke has been telling me about the new flat that you and Kate have moved into.'
Joe: 'Yeah, it's by the side of the marina - a nice flat in a nice location.'
Simon: 'Sounds good.'
Luke: 'Hey, how long has it been since the four us were all together - when was the last time that we had a night out like this?'
Coel: 'Too fucking long - that's how long.'
Joe nods his head in agreement.
Simon: 'It was just over a year and a half ago, the first weekend in October - a month or so before I left for Canada.'
Luke: 'You mean, a month before you left us.'
Simon: 'Before I left you? The three of you all moved away from Cardiff before I did.'
Luke: 'Yeah, but we didn't move two thousand miles away.'
Simon smiles wryly.
Simon: 'Okay, you got me there.'
Simon turns back to Coel.
Simon: 'I just realised, this is the first time that I've seen you in person to be able to congratulate you on your engagement to Rees.'
Coel: 'Thanks.'
As the other three men each take a drink from their glasses, Simon continues the conversation.
Simon: 'You're getting married at the end of September, right?'
Coel: 'Yeah, Friday the 26th; I'm guessing that you'll be unable to attend.'
Simon: 'I don't know.'
Simon shrugs his shoulders.
Simon: 'I don't know whether or not there's a show in SCW that weekend - I don't look that far ahead at the schedule.
Luke: 'Even if there is a show that weekend, couldn't you just ask to be given the night off?'
Joe looks at Luke, with a frown.
Joe: 'He's the champion, Luke. And as the champion, if there's a show, he's expected to be there.'
Simon: 'Joe's right.'
Both Joe and Luke turn to look at Simon.
Simon: 'I was granted a night off four weeks ago, and my absence from that show absence didn't go unnoticed - I don't want to push my luck. In some respects, I'm a victim of my own success. But still, I'd rather be in demand, than be some nobody, that no-on wants to see.'
Luke: 'The wedding is four months away, though; you might not still be the champion by then - you could lose your title as soon as next Sunday.'
Simon: 'Thanks for the vote of confidence, Luke.'
Coel sighs, as he shakes his head.
Coel: 'Fuckin' Luke.'
Simon: 'I've not lost a match so far this year, and I don't plan on starting next Sunday - I'm not ready to surrender the heavyweight title yet.'
Simon takes a drink of his Tuborg.
Joe: 'Speaking of which, when are you off to Cape Town?'
Simon: 'Early next week; I wouldn't normally arrive somewhere almost a week in advance, but this is a big show, and I need to be there in case SCW require me to do any promotional work.'
Coel: 'Are Jacqui and the baby going with you?'
Simon shakes his head.
Simon: 'No, they're staying in Cardiff.'
Luke: 'And then when are you going back to Vegas?'
Simon: 'About a week after I get back from Cape Town.'
Simon sighs.
Simon: 'I've missed this, you know - being in Canada, and then the US, I've missed a lot of things: I've missed significant events, like seeing friends get married; I've missed less consequential things, like watching the Blues play; and I've missed things that I used to take for granted, like being sat in a pub with you three.'
Joe: 'At least you've got something to show for what you've had to miss out on: you've got the title, plus you won that trophy two months ago - that has to make it worthwhile.'
Simon nods his head.
Coel: 'And you had better not lose that title of yours next Sunday; it's a bank holiday weekend, next weekend, so we'll all be watching your match against Sean Jackson - don't disappoint us.'
Simon grins.
Simon: 'I'll try not to, lads.'
The four men each take a gulp of their beers; after putting his pint glass back on the table, Joe looks at Simon again.
Joe: 'Did you watch the cup final earlier?'
Simon: 'Yeah. And while I want to entertain the fans next Sunday, I would settle for a much more straightforward victory than the one that Arsenal got; I forced Luke to watch the match with me.'
Simon glances at Luke, as he continues to enjoy this rare opportunity to spend time with these three friends of his, of whom he has seen very little in the past eighteen months. With the quartet's night out in Cardiff set to go on for several more hours, the scene fades to black.
