(California, to most, was a symbol of sun and fun, a vacation paradise. To LOGIC, however, it was yet another office, a place of business. The nearly three-hundred pound superstar sat on a small chair in the city’s airport, duffel bag sitting at his side. Through the grace of CSWA‘s crack marketing department, he is clad in his own “Knowledge is Power“ t-shirt (available NOW at CSWAShopzone for a very reasonable price.) He gazed down at his chest, seemingly bemused at the mere fact that he now HAD his own t-shirt, his own merchandise.)
LOGIC: Jacobs is confident. In other news, the sun rises in the morning.
(With a sarcastic smile on his face, he reached into his duffel bag, pulling out a pair of average-looking sunglasses. He quickly put them on, shaking his head.)
LOGIC: There. Now my sensitive retinas will be spared from the damage that would undoubtedly be caused by a man with a future as bright as yourself. Fortunately for my vision, even you seem to realize that the CSWA is no cakewalk. You seem far less arrogant, far less loud, and far less self-assured.
Understandable, really, when it comes right down to it. You’re an excellent competitor, without a doubt. On the surface everything seems ripe for you to achieve here. To become the Unifed World Champion and prove that you are everything that you claim so adamantly to be.
But it’s not happening, Vince. Not due to any lack of skill on your part, but because you are going toe to toe with a man who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain. If I lose, everyone will shrug. After all, it’s the expected result. But if you lose, it all begins to unravel. You might not doubt yourself, but everyone else will.
No longer will you be “Superstar” Vince Jacobs, a man feared by his fellow competitors, and hated by the fans. You won’t be worth the effort it takes to hate you anymore. Because, no matter where you go, you’re going to hear the whispers, the chants, the taunting. “That’s the guy who lost to Logic!” “Look, that’s Jacobs. He used to be a World Champion. Then he lost to the really smart big guy.”
Really, Superstar, you’re somebody and I’m nobody. Ask your average fan who I am, and they’ll say I’m the big guy with a flattop who gets made fun of on a weekly basis. And, really, they’d be right. To them, I’m a 6’9” joke.
The joke, Vince Jacobs, will be on you when they see what I can truly do in a ring. CSWA has done something that no one else has for some time. They have dangled a carrot before me. The prospect of the CSWA Unified World Title is my bell. And my Pavlovian response when I think of what that championship means is to defeat whomever is across the ring from me. I don’t care if it’s you, Troy Windham, Hornet, Alias, Jaguar Mask, or a mystery man. Everyone is another capable opponent, another man that I must defeat. And defeat you I will. After all, Vince, ecstasy and you never were a good combination…
There will be no joy in Beverly Hills this weekend. At least after you are defeated, you’ll be in your home state. You can go home to the palatial Jacobs estate, and take a few days to yourself to ponder what happened. Go out for a nice, fancy dinner. Enjoy lobster with a nice chardonnay. Drown yourself in creature comforts.
Because when you come back to the CSWA, you will have to deal with the fact that I still have a chance to become champion, and you do not.
You may as well face facts now. In an era of the steroid bloated athlete, my muscles are the product of good genetics and old-fashioned hard work. My body and my mind work in concert. And Vince, you are fortunate enough to be the first man to face that potent combination.
(Logic stood, slinging the back over his shoulder. The time for battle was near, the time when his well-spoken words would give way to carefully-plotted action.)
LOGIC: CSWA’s Dark Age is over. The Enlightenment is here.
(Fade.)