“I was only supposed to say F your generation. Not only did I completely forget that part, I went on an entire F bomb tirade.” Sean Stevens playfully slapped his forehead, as he positioned the cushion on his less than comfy couch.
Poison Ivy smiled, gently, in that way that she always smiled, when her husband began to overreact. It was the only way she could calm him. “It’s done now, Sean. Plus, it was a good, effective promo. You laid all your cards on the table. If you wanted everyone to know why you returned, and why you signed on to wrestle in the ULTRATITLE tournament, you got your message across,” she said, as she continued reading jotting down things in her journal, as she thought of them.
“Mistake?”
Ivy’s lifted an eyebrow, positioning her glasses on her face. “Hmmmm?”
“Laying it all on the line – I mean. I kind of put myself out there to be crucified. I’m sort of dangling from the cross now.”
Ivy giggled, “Dramatic are we?”
“I mean, why exactly am I back? At first, I had a clear reason. I didn’t want my kid looking at the last four years of my career, and seeing me like that. As that person. So, the plan was to come back and do a role reversal. Be a nice guy. A dad he could be proud of. A role model for the fans. But, that’s not me.”
“Not even close,” his wife interrupted, still looking down at her notes.
“Exactly… I’m an asshole. A jerk. A charming jerk, but a jerk nonetheless-- wait, what!?”
“I’m agreeing with you, Sean,” Ivy began. “You can't drench crap with syrup, and expect it to taste like pancakes. And, I'm not calling you crap. What I mean is, you can filter your language, actually acknowledge Shannon, and I… doesn’t make you any less of the blue-eyed badass. Remember when we first started exploring our feelings for each other, and decided to really take it to the next level?”
“—every detail, like it was yesterday,” Trip cut her off.
“—there was one day, where I even remember telling you that I liked you better when you were Sean and not Triple X. I was talking about as my boyfriend… not as a wrestler. Wrestling doesn’t need Sean Stevens, I did… Shannon does… when you’re in that ring, you have to be every bit of who you've been… despite what you think Shannon and I want to see. We’d rather you be the loud mouth, arrogant, misogynist, adulterer for them and come home to us at night, than be the great husband that you are at home, the great dad that taught his son how to ride a bike with no training wheels at the age of four, and go out there and get yourself severely hurt.”
“Interesting,” was all Trip responded with, as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“But, don’t worry about that right now… the great thing about not cutting the promo that we wanted to cut our first go 'round, there’s always time to cut another.”
Poison Ivy glanced over at Stevens’ video camera in the corner of their home, positioned on its tripod, there specifically for moments like these. Triple X laughed, as usual, Poison Ivy was not only right, but she had a solution.
“You're on in five, kiddo.”
----
5...
4...
3...
2...
Go time.
“FUCK your generation, Jason.”
FADEIN…
You could see every inch of detail on the new tattoo on his right wrist, as Professional Wrestling superstar, “Triple X” Sean Stevens leaned over the balcony of his condo – it was a cross, attached to rosary beads, and a scroll. But, that had nothing to do with nothing. In fact, forget that it was even mentioned.
TRIPLE X: You’re here because you need money? …MONEY? That’s it. Not for the love, not to learn, not to be a better wrestler, and to perfect your craft, through experience, but money? And, you have the audacity to say that to ME of all people!? Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, Jason. You’ve had your fun; you made it to the big dance, a dance that you didn’t even have to work hard to enter, and you’ve even somehow rationalized that to mean that you’re going to beat people that live, breathe, and will DIE for this sport. Wonderful. Sounds nice, hopefully you can get a t-shirt deal out of the gig, but it ends now.
“I’m the veteran, I’m the guy with the experience, I’m the man that’s been here before, yet you barely paid attention to any of that, instead opting to skim my promo for material, grasping at straws for fodder, ultimately confusing yourself, the few people that believed you had a shot at winning this match, and succeeding in making yourself look stupid. You took a shortcut, it backfired, and now you’re on an island alone, where at any given moment, you’re going to come face to face with the big, bad, hungry wolf. But, this isn’t a fairy-tail, Jason. There are no happy endings for you.
“And, your belief system and mentality could easily get you killed. Experience doesn’t mean that I’m old; it means that I’m smart enough to capitalize on your ignorance to my advantage and eat you alive.
“Don’t give me that crap about anybody being able to get pinned at any time. Look around you. Look where you are… There’s a reason why I’m favored to win this thing, and it’s not because I’m handsome. It’s because I'm KING. It’s because I run shit around here. It’s because this is my HOME. You ? You don’t even live here. You’re just a part time competitor in need of a get rich quick scheme.”
Sean spoke with the aggression, charisma, and believability of Mr. "King Kong ain't got **** on me" himself, Denzel Washington in Training Day.
TRIPLE X: I’m the 2009, 2010 Wrestler of the Year, and I left on top, not because I got old, or because I couldn’t do it anymore, but because I wanted to. You know why I came back? Not because I missed the limelight, or needed a payday, but because I honestly, genuinely love this sport, and because I wanted to.
“Get where I’m going with this, Jason?
“You keep trying to convince me that you’re going to do great things, and while I’m doing my very best to try and believe you, and take you seriously, I just can’t, because everything that you’re hoping is going to happen, I’ve never experienced. And, because, well ... everything about you screams bad joke. See, I don’t lose big matches. I don’t choke. I don’t make excuses, and I don’t get outperformed. I don’t fail, I don’t show compassion, and I don’t let rookies pull the wool over my eyes.
“Want me to tell you what I do, Jason? I win. And, I win a lot. It makes people mad, sad, want to commit suicide, and label me a politician who sandbags his competition, but it never changes the outcome. We're here to win, win big, prove that we're the best at what we do, and, I never disappoint because I’m the absolute best. And, while it’s been cool entertaining the idea of a March Madness-esque upset, you’re not beating me, Jason. You’re not even competing with me. I'm going to dispose of you quickly, and there's really nothing you can do about it, but show up, stand there, and take it.
“I’m sure that you’re a good kid, and that there’s somebody out there that loves you. Great. You’re going to need them… for moral support… for mental support… to lift you up emotionally… and, well… to give you a roof to sleep under, because you’re leaving ULTRATITLE as broke as you were when you came.
“What you're going to learn is, I am NOT here to be your friend. I am not here to understand your circumstances, or applaud your determination to change your social class. You are an obstacle, preventing me from finally reaching my dreams, and I wouldn’t be half the wrestler I always believed in my heart that I was if I didn’t move you. And, I will. It will be swift, it will be clear, and there will be no room for debate.
“I hope that hitchhike home is pleasant. Because after our match, your services will no longer be needed in our community of real wrestlers, who respect this sport. Because until you change the way that you are, you'll never be anything in this industry, and disappointing ride homes will become the norm.”
FTB