No more handouts.
OORP: Sorry for taking so long to post. I wrote this up days ago, and have been kicking my modem to work since then. Finally just reinstalled the damn thing.
Fade in: the main common area of Larry Tact's plush Manhattan suite is set up for some sort of dinner party tonight. There are two long tables, set up next to one another, with burgundy red tablecloths draped over them, extending just far enough to kiss the floor. There are waitstaff milling around, going up the steps from the sunken entertainment area to a large round table, set near the balcony door on one side, placing down silverware on napkins and plates on placemats. Others are bringing platters and more plates to the buffet tables, getting that in order for those who will soon be along, enjoying the fruits of these laborers' work. As this goes on, zooming out, Larry Tact sits on one of his black vinyl sofas, wearing a pair of black slacks and a pine green, button down collared shirt. His arms are relaxed across the top of the sofa, and he leans back into it with a sigh.
LARRY TACT: "You know, there's really nothing like plans going just how you want them to. For instance, there is the upcoming NEW/EPW spring event. The wheels are turning, invitations have begun to be handed out, and there is already a buzz going about what will be in store for those in attendance. Some may say that one of those invitations was wrongfully intercepted, and not delivered to its rightful owner. I don't really see it that way. This event is going to be something momentus; it is the first joint event on the circuit this millenium, and there will be a limited number of people who will be privileged enough to take part. Jason Payne feels he is deserving of a spot and, at least at Raucous, he had a moment of intuitive thought, realizing he would not get very far b****ing and moaning about wanting a spot on the card. So he is doing something about it. And his actions have produced an opportunity for him. If he capitalizes, then I see no reason why he should not be rewarded."
"That is a good example of the intitiative more people should take. In wrestling, you cannot expect to be handed anything. Not a title, not even one win. You don't learn anything when you are just given a spot, or a title, or a win. You don't improve. You need to go out and earn it. Earn your way up the ladder, earn your wins, earn your place in wrestling lore."
"That's what I've been doing in New ERA. I've been earning every damn thing I've attained. And this match... this next match will be where I earn what I should have had all along...."
"A return match for the New ERA of Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship."
He shifts slightly, crossing one leg over the other.
"And even to get to this point, to earn this 'shot at a shot,' I had to take down the three men who started it all with me. The three other men who, three years ago, I bested to become World Champion. There were whispers of critics about my not being the same wrestler I was three years ago, and I guess they were right in a way: I've excelled beyond the limits of what I was. I've become even more a master of my wrestling craft. And if I wasn't, then at least one of those three would have put my ass on the floor in Puerto Rico, because he certainly has improved over the three years. Otherwise, he wouldn't be the current World Champion."
He smirks.
"But the man who will stand across from me in the ring at Raucous, the Phantom Republican... he is exactly the type of wrestler who expects to be handed everything. When I made my return as the Masked Man last year, his big talk could not convince me to step aside, and his skills in the ring could not put me down. In fact, only when Juliet Marceau had me walk through the war zone that was the BattleBRAWL II PCX match with Chaos, and then followed it up with a Clash of the Titans match with this guy could he keep me down. In other words, when he was handed circumstances favoring himself."
"I won't deny that I still gave everything I had that night, and I believed I could walk out victorious going in, and it was not to be that night. But if he thinks for one second that this match will be more similar to our second encounter than the first... he will be sadly mistaken, because the circumstances have changed."
He sets his crossed leg back down on the floor, leans forward, and rests his forearms on knees.
"Of course, there can only be so much drawn from the past, but the present is clear enough: I have issued him a spot in NEW/EPW Challenge match. I know the Phantom Republican has attained a certain level in this promotion's ranks. He has been a World Champion before, by using whatever means necessary, and I credit him for his careful calculations. But let's not fool ourselves. I don't follow along with other people's plans, and I've made a habit of shattering people's hopes and plans for glory."
"And to be honest, all the big talk of 'artillery' and political references and metaphors... it makes this guy sound more like he's trying to compensate for something than anything else. Even his very initials.... P. R. I mean, come on! Could he be trying any harder to cover up? Maybe Ra... *cough*... that is, a certain former Television Champion isn't the only Borinator around here...."
He strokes his chin momentarily, then shrugs.
"In any case... I don't know what the Phantom Republican was lacking in his childhood, adolescence, or what drove him to openly tout the banner of a party whose frontrunning Presidential candidates are preferrably middle-aged and mid-life crisis suffering, or just plain ridiculous... but none of that is going to matter in this scenario. In words even he could understand: the Phantom Republican's "strategery" is off. The only thing this guy's big talk, big money, and big shortcomings will get him is a big-time humbling! It's as simple as that."
Pauses.
"In his defense, the Democrats aren't faring all too much better in their recruiting. But that won't change the fact I'm going to bring P.R. down to reality. Because the problem with getting everything handed to you, and rarely earning your way?"
"It isn't that you can't still find yourself near the top of the ladder. You can, as the Phantom Republican has, through scheming and clever tactics, mingled with the minimum required effort. And the Phantom Republican is good at that."
"The problem is, when you finally come up against somebody who has spent their entire time earning every step, and done so not through trickery or scheming everything to go a certain way, but rather by working through adversity and mastering his craft... you find out just how far the gap is between yourself, near the top, and those at the top."
"And just as it's been for the better part of three years now... the New Era, and the standard at the top, has been set in place... by Larry Tact."
"So come and get it, P.R. I'll even dislodge that big stick... when I'm kicking your ass so hard that it'll come out your throat along with dinner. I know you probably won't believe it can be done, because surely such an injustice cannot be invoked upon you... and because that stick has been up your ass for so long... but you learn something new everyday. I'll make it happen and then..."
"You will... be... tactilized!"
A doorbell rings. He stands from the sofa, observing that everything has been set up properly, before signalling to one of the waitstaff to begin admitting guests. Fade out.
