RP runs through Monday, May 14. 2 RP limit in this round.
Round 2: Cobra vs. Spike Saunders
- Thread starter Chad
- Start date
A Hallway. Pretty standard office hallway. Lots of doors. Walking down the hallway is Cobra, a second round participant in the ULTRATITLE Tournament. Dressed in his usually jeans, black Cobra shirt, and trademark mask, Cobra walks a step in front of another man who happens to be holding a microphone.
Interviewer: Cobra, can I get a word with you quickly before you head in to cut a promo?
Cobra doesn’t turn towards the man, nor does his pace down the hall change.
Cobra: I beat Dan Ryan.
Interviewer: Yes. I wanted to get your opinion on what people are calling the upset of the tournament, if not the year.
Cobra: I beat Dan Ryan.
Interviewer: Can you elaborate a little bit?
Pause.
Interviewer: Alright. I know you’re about to go into the studio to cut a promo about your second round opponent Spike Saunders, but could you give us a quick reason why you think you’ll continue to upset the world?
Pause.
Cobra: I beat Dan Ryan.
With that Cobra turns into a room and the door closes behind him, right in the interviewer’s face.
Interviewer: Alright then. That was Cobra, the man who obviously beat Dan Ryan in the first round.
*****
Cobra stands in front of an ULTRATITLE backdrop. Cobra rolls his head against his shoulders, cracking his neck with each roll and gets ready to speak. He is dressed in a pair of jeans, a Cobra **** and his trademark mask. After a quick moment, he gets a signal and begins to speak.
Cobra: So here we are. The second round of the UTLRATITLE Tournament. How many people watching have had their bracket busted? Hmmm. I know it’s a lot. Sucks for you. There is so much left in this tournament and you’re already out of the money. I don’t feel bad for you. It serves you right. How dare you go against me? I told everyone I was going to win this match. I told Dan Ryan I was going to beat his ass. And guess what?
I beat Dan Ryan.
So where do we go from here? What’s next for the lowly Cobra? Well, as the same experts that gave me no chance in the first round have been saying, I’m still not getting the respect that I deserve. But I’m not here for that. I’ve said it already. I’m in this for myself. To prove to myself that I’m still the best in the world. That I am still deserving of being a World champion. I still have my doubters. But I don’t care.
I beat Dan Ryan.
So far, in the week that’s past since the big win, I’ve been called every name in the book. I’ve been called a fluke. I’ve been called a giant killer. I’ve even been called Paul, whatever that means. But there is something no one is calling me yet. No one is calling me a contender. No one is calling me the best in the world. What’s it going to take experts and pundits? What do I have to do to prove myself? Didn’t you see?
I beat Dan Ryan.
The way I see it. I’ve already proved myself. I’ve already shown the world that I can beat anyone, no matter how many World Titles they’ve won over the years. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t bother me. I go into the ring each and every time, no matter who is facing me at the other side, no matter how many are facing me at the other side, I go into that ring the same way. Knowing I am the best in the world. Knowing that I’m going to kick their ass. And most importantly, when it’s all over, I will be the winner.
So what do I have to do? What kind of encore could I pull off after the upset of the decade, of the century? I could go out there and kick Dan Ryan’s ass yet again. Would that impress everyone? Beating the big man twice? The problem, it won’t get me any further in this tournament. So again I ask, what do I have to do?
Should I face my next opponent with one hand tied behind my back? Should I go into it blindfolded? Pick a gimmick, anything will do. I could go out there hopping around on one foot. That’d make for a great encore wouldn’t it? Instead of a slithering snake, you’d get a hopping one. It would certainly sell some tickets with that on the card.
But instead I’ve got another idea up my sleeve. It’s not as crazy or as flamboyant as any of those. No. Instead I’m just going to go out there and do what I do. Kick the ass of the person at the other side of the ring. Beat them. And once again move on in this little tournament. Just another rung in the ladder. Just another step towards my goal. Just another step closer to finally getting back to where I was before everything came crashing down around me.
To become the best in the world.
So who’s next on the list? Spike Saunders. A guy some people are actually saying is a more impressive wrestler than Dan Ryan. That he’s a bigger legend in this business. The giant. Over seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds. A behemoth of a man. How could anyone defeat this legend if you’re not Dan Ryan?
I guess one would have to be a giant killer. I wonder where we could find someone like that. Hmmmm.
To me Spike is just another wrestler. I’ve seen them before. The big bad monster. So tall you can’t get over him. So heavy you can’t pick them up. I’ll admit wrestling a guy of this size certainly reduces the moves you consider using in the match. But I’ve been there before. I’ve faced countless guys like this. I have been around for over fifteen years. Guys like Spike were a dime a dozen back in the day.
And you know what Spike, it’s funny I should mention that. The golden age. A time over a decade ago where there were more companies in this business that ever before. It seemed as though there were thousands upon thousands of wrestlers. It was hard to find something original back then. It was hard to find a guy that decided to try something different. It seemed as though everyone was a copy of some more familiar face. Someone already famous and in the spotlight. Hell if it worked once, why wouldn’t it work again?
Do you have any idea how many spiky haired blonde big body guys I’ve faced over my career? Do you have any idea how many had some special move that supposedly got the crowd wild and crazy in an instant. Whether it was an eyebrow raise or a smirk, or an obscene gesture, hell how about your glasses move. We’ve all seen it before. How original. Wait, I have an idea for you. Maybe you could do something in the match to get everyone fired up. Maybe after hitting one of your trademark moves you could put your hands up to your mouth in a cone shape and yell out WOOOOOOOO!
So why bring all this up? I mean it was the golden age, it was years ago, decades ago. It’s all ancient history. But that’s exactly why isn’t it? It’s all ancient history. Just like you Spike. The world has passed you by. The business has passed you by. You’re stuck in an age that no longer exists. As if time has stopped for you. As if you are just a memory.
Everything seems so old and tired with you Spike. You’re still bleaching your hair blonde, a look that hasn’t be in style since I was a kid. I guess originally you did it to fit in, but now I think we all know the real reason for the dye job… At 43 years old you probably visit the hair products aisle a little more. You know exactly where I’m talking about. That gray area between the shampoo and the woman’s hair dye. It’d be one thing if it was just dyed, but do you really still have to spike it? When was that in style, outside of the jersey shore of course?
I could go on forever, but this isn’t a fashion show, this is a wrestling match to see who is the better man. The point I’m trying to make is that you’re plainly just washed up. You are a has been. Your better days have long since passed. The glory days of the WWA, WWR, and the rest of those big time companies of yesteryear are over. And so are yours. Just like your buddies in KISS that let you use their song as your theme, you haven’t done anything interesting in over a decade. The bad news is that KISS actually still makes decent money shilling their namesake and their dignity. You’re just washed up.
The first round just proves my point. You got the lucky draw of El Lobo Loco. A man that no one has ever heard of. A man that I’m not even sure has even won a match. You faced a filler and luckily you didn’t embarrass yourself and your AARP demographic. You managed to not break either one of your hips and scored a victory.
But who am I to talk. I too faced a guy that was used as a filler… Oh. Wait. I didn’t. I beat the big mighty tournament favorite Dan f’ing Ryan. I’ve already been tested in this tournament. You basically just had to show up, hit your trademark moves, got the crowd warmed up, and left to let the talent take them home. And I did exactly that. In the MAIN EVENT. I closed the show. I took a crowd that was chanting a legends name and turned them in only a handful of minutes. I turned a hostile crowd into one that was chanting my name at the end of the night. I got the crowd to roar. I sent them all home happy. And where were you? Probably already on a plane to Australia.
So now the real tournament starts for you in the second round. You get to face a man that has all the momentum in the world. That has nothing to lose and nothing to fear. Hell he beat the great one. Are you ready Spike? Are you prepared? Is your head in the game now? Or are you still so focused on the NBW or ACW that you don’t even know when or where you need to go for our match?
It’s time to get your head out of your ass, Spike. It’s time to wake up. It’s time for the beating of your lifetime. You may want to go find yourself a Delorean and head back about ten to fifteen years to find the Spike that people cared about, that people rooted for. I don’t want to face the Spike Saunders that’s travelling all over Australia selling signed pictures to get by, or taking pictures with your trademark glasses on some poor aboriginal. I want to face the Spike Saunders that matters. I want to face the Spike Saunders that people cared about. I want a challenge. I need a challenge. If not, this round is actually going to be boring for me.
Like I said, I’m ready. I’ve been tested. I defied the odds in the first round. I’ve proven once that I can be the best in the world again. I only have to prove it six more times until everyone is out of excuses. You’re just another notch in the belt. You’re just another stepping stone. A mere footnote by the end of this tourney.
I’m going to be the best in the world again. Try and stop me Spike. I dare you. But I already know you can’t. It’s not because I’m already the best in the world. No, it’s simple.
I beat Dan Ryan.
Interviewer: Cobra, can I get a word with you quickly before you head in to cut a promo?
Cobra doesn’t turn towards the man, nor does his pace down the hall change.
Cobra: I beat Dan Ryan.
Interviewer: Yes. I wanted to get your opinion on what people are calling the upset of the tournament, if not the year.
Cobra: I beat Dan Ryan.
Interviewer: Can you elaborate a little bit?
Pause.
Interviewer: Alright. I know you’re about to go into the studio to cut a promo about your second round opponent Spike Saunders, but could you give us a quick reason why you think you’ll continue to upset the world?
Pause.
Cobra: I beat Dan Ryan.
With that Cobra turns into a room and the door closes behind him, right in the interviewer’s face.
Interviewer: Alright then. That was Cobra, the man who obviously beat Dan Ryan in the first round.
*****
Cobra stands in front of an ULTRATITLE backdrop. Cobra rolls his head against his shoulders, cracking his neck with each roll and gets ready to speak. He is dressed in a pair of jeans, a Cobra **** and his trademark mask. After a quick moment, he gets a signal and begins to speak.
Cobra: So here we are. The second round of the UTLRATITLE Tournament. How many people watching have had their bracket busted? Hmmm. I know it’s a lot. Sucks for you. There is so much left in this tournament and you’re already out of the money. I don’t feel bad for you. It serves you right. How dare you go against me? I told everyone I was going to win this match. I told Dan Ryan I was going to beat his ass. And guess what?
I beat Dan Ryan.
So where do we go from here? What’s next for the lowly Cobra? Well, as the same experts that gave me no chance in the first round have been saying, I’m still not getting the respect that I deserve. But I’m not here for that. I’ve said it already. I’m in this for myself. To prove to myself that I’m still the best in the world. That I am still deserving of being a World champion. I still have my doubters. But I don’t care.
I beat Dan Ryan.
So far, in the week that’s past since the big win, I’ve been called every name in the book. I’ve been called a fluke. I’ve been called a giant killer. I’ve even been called Paul, whatever that means. But there is something no one is calling me yet. No one is calling me a contender. No one is calling me the best in the world. What’s it going to take experts and pundits? What do I have to do to prove myself? Didn’t you see?
I beat Dan Ryan.
The way I see it. I’ve already proved myself. I’ve already shown the world that I can beat anyone, no matter how many World Titles they’ve won over the years. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t bother me. I go into the ring each and every time, no matter who is facing me at the other side, no matter how many are facing me at the other side, I go into that ring the same way. Knowing I am the best in the world. Knowing that I’m going to kick their ass. And most importantly, when it’s all over, I will be the winner.
So what do I have to do? What kind of encore could I pull off after the upset of the decade, of the century? I could go out there and kick Dan Ryan’s ass yet again. Would that impress everyone? Beating the big man twice? The problem, it won’t get me any further in this tournament. So again I ask, what do I have to do?
Should I face my next opponent with one hand tied behind my back? Should I go into it blindfolded? Pick a gimmick, anything will do. I could go out there hopping around on one foot. That’d make for a great encore wouldn’t it? Instead of a slithering snake, you’d get a hopping one. It would certainly sell some tickets with that on the card.
But instead I’ve got another idea up my sleeve. It’s not as crazy or as flamboyant as any of those. No. Instead I’m just going to go out there and do what I do. Kick the ass of the person at the other side of the ring. Beat them. And once again move on in this little tournament. Just another rung in the ladder. Just another step towards my goal. Just another step closer to finally getting back to where I was before everything came crashing down around me.
To become the best in the world.
So who’s next on the list? Spike Saunders. A guy some people are actually saying is a more impressive wrestler than Dan Ryan. That he’s a bigger legend in this business. The giant. Over seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds. A behemoth of a man. How could anyone defeat this legend if you’re not Dan Ryan?
I guess one would have to be a giant killer. I wonder where we could find someone like that. Hmmmm.
To me Spike is just another wrestler. I’ve seen them before. The big bad monster. So tall you can’t get over him. So heavy you can’t pick them up. I’ll admit wrestling a guy of this size certainly reduces the moves you consider using in the match. But I’ve been there before. I’ve faced countless guys like this. I have been around for over fifteen years. Guys like Spike were a dime a dozen back in the day.
And you know what Spike, it’s funny I should mention that. The golden age. A time over a decade ago where there were more companies in this business that ever before. It seemed as though there were thousands upon thousands of wrestlers. It was hard to find something original back then. It was hard to find a guy that decided to try something different. It seemed as though everyone was a copy of some more familiar face. Someone already famous and in the spotlight. Hell if it worked once, why wouldn’t it work again?
Do you have any idea how many spiky haired blonde big body guys I’ve faced over my career? Do you have any idea how many had some special move that supposedly got the crowd wild and crazy in an instant. Whether it was an eyebrow raise or a smirk, or an obscene gesture, hell how about your glasses move. We’ve all seen it before. How original. Wait, I have an idea for you. Maybe you could do something in the match to get everyone fired up. Maybe after hitting one of your trademark moves you could put your hands up to your mouth in a cone shape and yell out WOOOOOOOO!
So why bring all this up? I mean it was the golden age, it was years ago, decades ago. It’s all ancient history. But that’s exactly why isn’t it? It’s all ancient history. Just like you Spike. The world has passed you by. The business has passed you by. You’re stuck in an age that no longer exists. As if time has stopped for you. As if you are just a memory.
Everything seems so old and tired with you Spike. You’re still bleaching your hair blonde, a look that hasn’t be in style since I was a kid. I guess originally you did it to fit in, but now I think we all know the real reason for the dye job… At 43 years old you probably visit the hair products aisle a little more. You know exactly where I’m talking about. That gray area between the shampoo and the woman’s hair dye. It’d be one thing if it was just dyed, but do you really still have to spike it? When was that in style, outside of the jersey shore of course?
I could go on forever, but this isn’t a fashion show, this is a wrestling match to see who is the better man. The point I’m trying to make is that you’re plainly just washed up. You are a has been. Your better days have long since passed. The glory days of the WWA, WWR, and the rest of those big time companies of yesteryear are over. And so are yours. Just like your buddies in KISS that let you use their song as your theme, you haven’t done anything interesting in over a decade. The bad news is that KISS actually still makes decent money shilling their namesake and their dignity. You’re just washed up.
The first round just proves my point. You got the lucky draw of El Lobo Loco. A man that no one has ever heard of. A man that I’m not even sure has even won a match. You faced a filler and luckily you didn’t embarrass yourself and your AARP demographic. You managed to not break either one of your hips and scored a victory.
But who am I to talk. I too faced a guy that was used as a filler… Oh. Wait. I didn’t. I beat the big mighty tournament favorite Dan f’ing Ryan. I’ve already been tested in this tournament. You basically just had to show up, hit your trademark moves, got the crowd warmed up, and left to let the talent take them home. And I did exactly that. In the MAIN EVENT. I closed the show. I took a crowd that was chanting a legends name and turned them in only a handful of minutes. I turned a hostile crowd into one that was chanting my name at the end of the night. I got the crowd to roar. I sent them all home happy. And where were you? Probably already on a plane to Australia.
So now the real tournament starts for you in the second round. You get to face a man that has all the momentum in the world. That has nothing to lose and nothing to fear. Hell he beat the great one. Are you ready Spike? Are you prepared? Is your head in the game now? Or are you still so focused on the NBW or ACW that you don’t even know when or where you need to go for our match?
It’s time to get your head out of your ass, Spike. It’s time to wake up. It’s time for the beating of your lifetime. You may want to go find yourself a Delorean and head back about ten to fifteen years to find the Spike that people cared about, that people rooted for. I don’t want to face the Spike Saunders that’s travelling all over Australia selling signed pictures to get by, or taking pictures with your trademark glasses on some poor aboriginal. I want to face the Spike Saunders that matters. I want to face the Spike Saunders that people cared about. I want a challenge. I need a challenge. If not, this round is actually going to be boring for me.
Like I said, I’m ready. I’ve been tested. I defied the odds in the first round. I’ve proven once that I can be the best in the world again. I only have to prove it six more times until everyone is out of excuses. You’re just another notch in the belt. You’re just another stepping stone. A mere footnote by the end of this tourney.
I’m going to be the best in the world again. Try and stop me Spike. I dare you. But I already know you can’t. It’s not because I’m already the best in the world. No, it’s simple.
I beat Dan Ryan.
Spike Saunders
Super Moderator
Woman (V.O.): Why do you do it? Why do you continue to put your body on the line? How long until you lace up your boots for the final time, Spike?
Saunders (V.O.): You know that saying ‘whatever does not kill you only makes you stronger’? It is said, Lexia, that the more pain you endure, the stronger you will become. They say that as long as you remain strong you can continue on. However every man has their own limits. Including even me.
FADEIN: The blue and yellow NBW logo was pinned up against the white bricked wall, while a large LEGACY banner hung above. Standing just to the side of the logo was Spike Saunders.
“Here we are again. Another night, another week. Before I even get started tonight I just wanted to wish El Lobo Loco the best. He is a talented individual, when it comes to dancing. I will not lie when I say that I was disappointed in our match or lack of. I feel bad for the showing we gave the fans but at the same time I understand that Loco was there to entertain like mel; we just have different ideas of entertainment when it comes to entertaining our fans.”
Saunders shrugged before continuing.
“Which brings me to my next opponent in the Ultratitle tournament. Cobra. Dan Ryan versus Cobra was the one match set in stone by everyone. Many grand were lost by those that bet on Ryan’s easy win. Instead what we got was what has been considered the upset of the tournament so far. But really was it an upset, Cobra?
“I have gone back over some archived footage from your time in the WfWA. You clearly are no push over as a former two time champion. I wish I would have met you in your prime, before we gotten into our old ages. Nearly half a century old as it is. As much as I want to win this tournament after missing the previous ones, I think you may need this even more than I do.
“After all Eric Dane is still in this thing. You have to have it in your head to make it to him at least. To close some chapters in your book so you can drift off again after the tournament ends – this time satisfied. And I do hope you get that chance, Cobra. Somewhere. Someday.
“Just not at the expense of me.
“I need this.”
Saunders ran his hand across his hair down to the back of his neck where he left it in place while slowly rocking his head to the left and back to the right.
“Old age. It gets to you. And you are right I am nothing like I was in my prime. A stumbling baffoon that could barely work the crowd or speak out to the thousands in the arena without getting nervous. Unlike my prime I have won and retained with success dozens of championship titles since then. I have wrestled with the best, fought with the fierce, and out-lasted the tough. So yes I am clearly a different man than I was in those glory days. My yester-years. But I think you may have misunderstood that importance my friend.
"I will tell you this, Cobra. You did great against Dan Ryan. Congrats. Welcome to the big leagues. It is great that you beat the man so many thought would be impossible for you, but if you think that makes you even one iota more special than the rest of the men and women in this tournament you are unfortunately mistaken. Dan Ryan is just one of many. Up next you have a colossal man standing at seven foot three, over three hundred pounds. A man that has been in this industry longer than most that are still around.
“Yes, my look may indeed be outdated. Think I do not know that? Sure I still use KISS for my entrance music. Why not? And yes I do bleach my hair blonde. I do it to hide the gray hairs, sure. And I spike it because I can. Why are you so concerned with my hair Cobra? I am still more than capable of putting on a clinic with you in the ring be it with spiked hair, long braided hair, dreadlocks, or heck even bald. Hair does not make a man nor does it tell you what to expect. Look at Shawn Hart. First glance you would think he was some hermaphrodite, and then be shocked that the guy is actually an all-star athlete when it comes to his ring antics.
"Look at you. Your ring attire and every day clothing have you outfitted like you are a walking Cobra. Taking the name and gimmick thing a bit far there me thinks. And for all that time you hid away from society, until you slithered out of your hole to join this tournament... were you still wearing those same outfits? I mean seriously man, I can get the importance in the ring, as it is part of you. But outside and in the public? Jeans, boots and t-shirt. That is all you really need. Do not make it more difficult than it needs to be.
"And you need to stop being concerned with your win over Ryan and concentrate more on the person standing before this camera. If your major accomplishment in life is that you beat Dan Ryan, you have no chance with me. This is not me saying I am better than you. This is me telling you.
“You beat Dan Ryan. A one of a kind in today’s age. And that golden age you spoke of? While you may have found giants like myself a dime a dozen, I was wrestling a Dan Ryan every night of the week. You see the thing you are forgetting of importance here is that he is just one individual. Back in the golden age men like him were everywhere you looked. Guys like Prince Miggs, Dane Wilt, Phelan Kell, The Immortal, Ray Chavez, Michael O’Dell, Welby, and even another participant in this very tournament when he was in his prime, Jack Harmen. So while you may have won against one Dan Ryan, I have faced and defeated dozens of Dan Ryan’s in the past.”
He paused while the camera zoomed in closer to his face.
“Again I am not saying that I am better than you, Cobra.
“I am telling you.
“I need this. And if it means mowing you down in the ring just like I did with El Lobo Loco, then so be it. I need this, and you are not stopping me.”
The clip faded from where Saunders had stood and transitioned into a montage of still photo’s and clips from various matches he had had over the years. His debut as El Gigantor, his time as the Silver Prince, the infamous triple threat match with High Flyer and Ray Chavez where he performed his first and last ever moonsault attempt, to his time in the FWO, ACW, and of course the NBW. Highlights continue to roll showcasing his best moments as well as the training he endured for them; especially the Sixty minute grueling Iron Man match with fellow competitor Justin Voss.
All of this accompanied by Spike Saunders’ voice.
Lexia (V.O.): But just what are your limits? You have been in singles, tag team, handicap, and even multi-men matches. Locked in steel cages and empty buildings, left for dead in the woods, even nearly decapitated in the ring. Twice.
Saunders (V.O.): Twenty Six years. It was nearly twenty six years ago that I had my first fight. Deep underground in England. Surrounded by worn down concrete walls and cheering businessmen and their trophy wives. Those fights were brutal. Nobody came out as clean as when they walked in. Anybody in their right mind would steer clear of the place.
There are only three kinds of people that fight in that scene. Those that need the money. Those that are paying back a debt. And those that live and breathe to fight. I was none of those.
But when you are towering over six foot at such an early age, you get noticed. You get offers. I could have done basketball. Gone pro and be set for life. Bored out of my mind sitting at home all luxurious like. Instead I chose to fight. I got noticed. I found myself in a different avenue trading in the cage for ropes, on most nights.
It was my first experience at wrestling when I debuted as the masked El Gigantor. The moment I stepped over those ropes I knew what I wanted. What I had found. I knew I was going to put the fighting life behind me.
I knew I was home.
The clip show ended and faded to black for a few seconds.
CUTTO: The Epic II arena, home of the NBW in St. Louis, Missouri. Prior to the NBW’s world tour this was the place where the shows would be taped and aired live from. For many this was the place where they called home.
Inside the Epic II there were all the normal commodities you would expect in a sports arena. But like all arenas, the Epic II had some touches of its own. High above the ring folded up into the rafters were the four sides of the steel cage structure often used during the TFZ The Zone fights and normal cage matches. Just down from the center hung the EpiCenter II, a four sided box with screens on each side to showcase moments in the ring, or backstage. And below that, standing in the center of the ring was the Colossus.
“Nearly Eight years ago I joined this organization. And I never looked back. For the first time in my career I have found a place that did not shutdown months later. The NBW is the second place I have been employed at in my career that has run beyond six years. This is my home now. I give to it my all every night of the week.”
The Colossus paused as he stepped over the top rope to stand on the apron before hopping down and sitting on the edge.
“I do it not for the ego boost. Nor for the money. Cobra, I do this for our fans. The men and women, the kids, the ones that enable us to even compete in this business. What do you do it for? You took time off after your run in WfWA never to be heard from until returning from your hole for the Ultratitle tournament. Where did you go during that time away?
“While you may have enjoyed your time off, I continued to work. Not a day goes by that I am not doing something for this company or one of the others I wrestle for. In all my years, this has not changed. The Ultratitle represents a beacon on the horizon that I have never had a chance to capture. Sure I have had numerous World Championships, second tier, third tier, even tag team titles as well. But none of those can compare to a title that is world renown like the Ultratitle is.”
Saunders smiled and looked up at the EpiCenter before returning his attention to the camera before him.
“Tell me Cobra, if you win what would you do with the Ultratitle? You already showed you can take time off when things do not go your way. But what if you won? What would you do with the Ultratitle? Would you carry it with you to your next showing? Or would it just be sitting next to those two replica world titles you have at home? See the Ultratitle is important but does not get brought out for years at a time.
“Do you know what I would do if I manage to win this tournament and the Ultratitle? The very next night I would put it on the line for our fans against anybody that challenged for it. Why? Because a title is more than an ornament or decoration for your mantle and trophy cases. It deserves to be showcased and laid out there on the line at all times. Would I risk losing it from doing this? Sure, but you know damn well that I would do everything to my ability to retain it on every defense, just like I would with a World Championship title.
“Championship Titles are not everything, but when they are in play you want to bring your A game. You want your opponent to bring their A game. You want the fans to be entertained as you put on a Five star match so that regardless if you are successful in your defense or a new winner is crowned, you brought your best. As did they, and the fans get to go home regardless if happy or upset, because they had seen a spectacular match up.”
Saunders pushed forward off the apron and walked up closer to the camera.
“Seven foot three. Six foot three. One foot difference between us, Cobra. Forty-Four. Thirty-Nine. Few years younger to you, few years more experience to me. In the end however none of that will matter.
“Just three seconds will be all that is needed. One will advance to the next chapter of their story while the other goes back to doing what they were prior to the tournament. Just three seconds, Cobra.
“Bring your best triple A game, and I will do the same. Whomever wins, we can both walk with our heads held high knowing we brought out the best in the other person. Ultratitle or no Ultratitle.
“I may have my hands full with meet and greets which you candidly took the time to point out, but do not fret. From this point forward my full attention and focus is on our match and this Ultratitle tournament.”
He smiled and stepped back to the ring.
“This one is for you Cobra.”
Cupping his hands together at his mouth he leaned back and let loose a loud
Fade out to the Ultratitle logo for ESEN.
Lexia (V.O.): What will you do when it is over? When will you finally shelf the boots and retire from the ring?
Saunders (V.O.): I may have just turned Forty-four but I still have it in me. As long as I can walk I will never quit. Baring unfortunate injuries, I will continue until my body ceases to respond or I die.
Lexia (V.O.): And after the Ultratitle tournament, what then?
Saunders (V.O.): Well I hope to be the proud owner of the Ultratitle and will put out an open challenge to anybody from the tournament. Any place, any time. Be it in the NBW, ACW, or their own place of business. The Ultratitle will not be forgotten for another couple years.
That I guarantee.
Fade out to…
Static.
Pause.
“So, what did you think?”
Spike Saunders stood in front of a large widescreen TV staring immensely at the screen. Beside him, clinging to his right arm was the always energetic Lexia Hart.
“Come on Spike, what did you think?” She glared up into his eyes as his imposing frame towered over her. “Well? You know I am not a patient person!”
“It was good," remarked Saunders as he turned to face her. “I mean great. Excellent even. Just…”
“Just what?” she eagerly waited on pin and needles for the response.
“You know. The whole showing me wrestling and training, while delivering some audio sound bytes from us then switching to me speaking. Confusing, no?”
“No,” she stated firmly as she released his arm and stepped away from him. “Look you do the wrestling thing for the title, and I will do the PR. Okay?”
“Lexia, PR involves the public. Where are the fans in all this? I mean come on, that was an empty arena. What about filming during one of our Live Events on the tour? Or actually just going out for a meet and greet? I know Thaddeus Boyle had planned some autograph sessions back in Australia to promote Legacy. How about that?”
“God damnit Spike! You just do not understand show business!” Lexia turned and hurled the DVD case at the Colossus’ head and stormed off yelling. “I am taking a break. Do what you do. We will start over when I get back.”
Saunders shrugged and shook his head while she walked away.
“This is not an audition!” The Colossus groaned and slunk down into the chair. He reached to his right and pulled the Laptop over to him. The lid flipped open with a single press and the large Guild Wars 2 Beta logo greeted him. “Maybe I do need a break.”
FTB
Saunders (V.O.): You know that saying ‘whatever does not kill you only makes you stronger’? It is said, Lexia, that the more pain you endure, the stronger you will become. They say that as long as you remain strong you can continue on. However every man has their own limits. Including even me.
FADEIN: The blue and yellow NBW logo was pinned up against the white bricked wall, while a large LEGACY banner hung above. Standing just to the side of the logo was Spike Saunders.
“Here we are again. Another night, another week. Before I even get started tonight I just wanted to wish El Lobo Loco the best. He is a talented individual, when it comes to dancing. I will not lie when I say that I was disappointed in our match or lack of. I feel bad for the showing we gave the fans but at the same time I understand that Loco was there to entertain like mel; we just have different ideas of entertainment when it comes to entertaining our fans.”
Saunders shrugged before continuing.
“Which brings me to my next opponent in the Ultratitle tournament. Cobra. Dan Ryan versus Cobra was the one match set in stone by everyone. Many grand were lost by those that bet on Ryan’s easy win. Instead what we got was what has been considered the upset of the tournament so far. But really was it an upset, Cobra?
“I have gone back over some archived footage from your time in the WfWA. You clearly are no push over as a former two time champion. I wish I would have met you in your prime, before we gotten into our old ages. Nearly half a century old as it is. As much as I want to win this tournament after missing the previous ones, I think you may need this even more than I do.
“After all Eric Dane is still in this thing. You have to have it in your head to make it to him at least. To close some chapters in your book so you can drift off again after the tournament ends – this time satisfied. And I do hope you get that chance, Cobra. Somewhere. Someday.
“Just not at the expense of me.
“I need this.”
Saunders ran his hand across his hair down to the back of his neck where he left it in place while slowly rocking his head to the left and back to the right.
“Old age. It gets to you. And you are right I am nothing like I was in my prime. A stumbling baffoon that could barely work the crowd or speak out to the thousands in the arena without getting nervous. Unlike my prime I have won and retained with success dozens of championship titles since then. I have wrestled with the best, fought with the fierce, and out-lasted the tough. So yes I am clearly a different man than I was in those glory days. My yester-years. But I think you may have misunderstood that importance my friend.
"I will tell you this, Cobra. You did great against Dan Ryan. Congrats. Welcome to the big leagues. It is great that you beat the man so many thought would be impossible for you, but if you think that makes you even one iota more special than the rest of the men and women in this tournament you are unfortunately mistaken. Dan Ryan is just one of many. Up next you have a colossal man standing at seven foot three, over three hundred pounds. A man that has been in this industry longer than most that are still around.
“Yes, my look may indeed be outdated. Think I do not know that? Sure I still use KISS for my entrance music. Why not? And yes I do bleach my hair blonde. I do it to hide the gray hairs, sure. And I spike it because I can. Why are you so concerned with my hair Cobra? I am still more than capable of putting on a clinic with you in the ring be it with spiked hair, long braided hair, dreadlocks, or heck even bald. Hair does not make a man nor does it tell you what to expect. Look at Shawn Hart. First glance you would think he was some hermaphrodite, and then be shocked that the guy is actually an all-star athlete when it comes to his ring antics.
"Look at you. Your ring attire and every day clothing have you outfitted like you are a walking Cobra. Taking the name and gimmick thing a bit far there me thinks. And for all that time you hid away from society, until you slithered out of your hole to join this tournament... were you still wearing those same outfits? I mean seriously man, I can get the importance in the ring, as it is part of you. But outside and in the public? Jeans, boots and t-shirt. That is all you really need. Do not make it more difficult than it needs to be.
"And you need to stop being concerned with your win over Ryan and concentrate more on the person standing before this camera. If your major accomplishment in life is that you beat Dan Ryan, you have no chance with me. This is not me saying I am better than you. This is me telling you.
“You beat Dan Ryan. A one of a kind in today’s age. And that golden age you spoke of? While you may have found giants like myself a dime a dozen, I was wrestling a Dan Ryan every night of the week. You see the thing you are forgetting of importance here is that he is just one individual. Back in the golden age men like him were everywhere you looked. Guys like Prince Miggs, Dane Wilt, Phelan Kell, The Immortal, Ray Chavez, Michael O’Dell, Welby, and even another participant in this very tournament when he was in his prime, Jack Harmen. So while you may have won against one Dan Ryan, I have faced and defeated dozens of Dan Ryan’s in the past.”
He paused while the camera zoomed in closer to his face.
“Again I am not saying that I am better than you, Cobra.
“I am telling you.
“I need this. And if it means mowing you down in the ring just like I did with El Lobo Loco, then so be it. I need this, and you are not stopping me.”
The clip faded from where Saunders had stood and transitioned into a montage of still photo’s and clips from various matches he had had over the years. His debut as El Gigantor, his time as the Silver Prince, the infamous triple threat match with High Flyer and Ray Chavez where he performed his first and last ever moonsault attempt, to his time in the FWO, ACW, and of course the NBW. Highlights continue to roll showcasing his best moments as well as the training he endured for them; especially the Sixty minute grueling Iron Man match with fellow competitor Justin Voss.
All of this accompanied by Spike Saunders’ voice.
Lexia (V.O.): But just what are your limits? You have been in singles, tag team, handicap, and even multi-men matches. Locked in steel cages and empty buildings, left for dead in the woods, even nearly decapitated in the ring. Twice.
Saunders (V.O.): Twenty Six years. It was nearly twenty six years ago that I had my first fight. Deep underground in England. Surrounded by worn down concrete walls and cheering businessmen and their trophy wives. Those fights were brutal. Nobody came out as clean as when they walked in. Anybody in their right mind would steer clear of the place.
There are only three kinds of people that fight in that scene. Those that need the money. Those that are paying back a debt. And those that live and breathe to fight. I was none of those.
But when you are towering over six foot at such an early age, you get noticed. You get offers. I could have done basketball. Gone pro and be set for life. Bored out of my mind sitting at home all luxurious like. Instead I chose to fight. I got noticed. I found myself in a different avenue trading in the cage for ropes, on most nights.
It was my first experience at wrestling when I debuted as the masked El Gigantor. The moment I stepped over those ropes I knew what I wanted. What I had found. I knew I was going to put the fighting life behind me.
I knew I was home.
The clip show ended and faded to black for a few seconds.
CUTTO: The Epic II arena, home of the NBW in St. Louis, Missouri. Prior to the NBW’s world tour this was the place where the shows would be taped and aired live from. For many this was the place where they called home.
Inside the Epic II there were all the normal commodities you would expect in a sports arena. But like all arenas, the Epic II had some touches of its own. High above the ring folded up into the rafters were the four sides of the steel cage structure often used during the TFZ The Zone fights and normal cage matches. Just down from the center hung the EpiCenter II, a four sided box with screens on each side to showcase moments in the ring, or backstage. And below that, standing in the center of the ring was the Colossus.
“Nearly Eight years ago I joined this organization. And I never looked back. For the first time in my career I have found a place that did not shutdown months later. The NBW is the second place I have been employed at in my career that has run beyond six years. This is my home now. I give to it my all every night of the week.”
The Colossus paused as he stepped over the top rope to stand on the apron before hopping down and sitting on the edge.
“I do it not for the ego boost. Nor for the money. Cobra, I do this for our fans. The men and women, the kids, the ones that enable us to even compete in this business. What do you do it for? You took time off after your run in WfWA never to be heard from until returning from your hole for the Ultratitle tournament. Where did you go during that time away?
“While you may have enjoyed your time off, I continued to work. Not a day goes by that I am not doing something for this company or one of the others I wrestle for. In all my years, this has not changed. The Ultratitle represents a beacon on the horizon that I have never had a chance to capture. Sure I have had numerous World Championships, second tier, third tier, even tag team titles as well. But none of those can compare to a title that is world renown like the Ultratitle is.”
Saunders smiled and looked up at the EpiCenter before returning his attention to the camera before him.
“Tell me Cobra, if you win what would you do with the Ultratitle? You already showed you can take time off when things do not go your way. But what if you won? What would you do with the Ultratitle? Would you carry it with you to your next showing? Or would it just be sitting next to those two replica world titles you have at home? See the Ultratitle is important but does not get brought out for years at a time.
“Do you know what I would do if I manage to win this tournament and the Ultratitle? The very next night I would put it on the line for our fans against anybody that challenged for it. Why? Because a title is more than an ornament or decoration for your mantle and trophy cases. It deserves to be showcased and laid out there on the line at all times. Would I risk losing it from doing this? Sure, but you know damn well that I would do everything to my ability to retain it on every defense, just like I would with a World Championship title.
“Championship Titles are not everything, but when they are in play you want to bring your A game. You want your opponent to bring their A game. You want the fans to be entertained as you put on a Five star match so that regardless if you are successful in your defense or a new winner is crowned, you brought your best. As did they, and the fans get to go home regardless if happy or upset, because they had seen a spectacular match up.”
Saunders pushed forward off the apron and walked up closer to the camera.
“Seven foot three. Six foot three. One foot difference between us, Cobra. Forty-Four. Thirty-Nine. Few years younger to you, few years more experience to me. In the end however none of that will matter.
“Just three seconds will be all that is needed. One will advance to the next chapter of their story while the other goes back to doing what they were prior to the tournament. Just three seconds, Cobra.
“Bring your best triple A game, and I will do the same. Whomever wins, we can both walk with our heads held high knowing we brought out the best in the other person. Ultratitle or no Ultratitle.
“I may have my hands full with meet and greets which you candidly took the time to point out, but do not fret. From this point forward my full attention and focus is on our match and this Ultratitle tournament.”
He smiled and stepped back to the ring.
“This one is for you Cobra.”
Cupping his hands together at his mouth he leaned back and let loose a loud
‘WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’
Fade out to the Ultratitle logo for ESEN.
Lexia (V.O.): What will you do when it is over? When will you finally shelf the boots and retire from the ring?
Saunders (V.O.): I may have just turned Forty-four but I still have it in me. As long as I can walk I will never quit. Baring unfortunate injuries, I will continue until my body ceases to respond or I die.
Lexia (V.O.): And after the Ultratitle tournament, what then?
Saunders (V.O.): Well I hope to be the proud owner of the Ultratitle and will put out an open challenge to anybody from the tournament. Any place, any time. Be it in the NBW, ACW, or their own place of business. The Ultratitle will not be forgotten for another couple years.
That I guarantee.
Fade out to…
The Ultratitle Chase
A Documentary by Lexia Hart
A Documentary by Lexia Hart
Static.
Pause.
“So, what did you think?”
Spike Saunders stood in front of a large widescreen TV staring immensely at the screen. Beside him, clinging to his right arm was the always energetic Lexia Hart.
“Come on Spike, what did you think?” She glared up into his eyes as his imposing frame towered over her. “Well? You know I am not a patient person!”
“It was good," remarked Saunders as he turned to face her. “I mean great. Excellent even. Just…”
“Just what?” she eagerly waited on pin and needles for the response.
“You know. The whole showing me wrestling and training, while delivering some audio sound bytes from us then switching to me speaking. Confusing, no?”
“No,” she stated firmly as she released his arm and stepped away from him. “Look you do the wrestling thing for the title, and I will do the PR. Okay?”
“Lexia, PR involves the public. Where are the fans in all this? I mean come on, that was an empty arena. What about filming during one of our Live Events on the tour? Or actually just going out for a meet and greet? I know Thaddeus Boyle had planned some autograph sessions back in Australia to promote Legacy. How about that?”
“God damnit Spike! You just do not understand show business!” Lexia turned and hurled the DVD case at the Colossus’ head and stormed off yelling. “I am taking a break. Do what you do. We will start over when I get back.”
Saunders shrugged and shook his head while she walked away.
“This is not an audition!” The Colossus groaned and slunk down into the chair. He reached to his right and pulled the Laptop over to him. The lid flipped open with a single press and the large Guild Wars 2 Beta logo greeted him. “Maybe I do need a break.”
FTB
Spike Saunders
Super Moderator
FADEIN: Once more the blue and yellow-gold logo of the NBW fades into view. The location being none other than the NBW home arena The Epic II located riverside in St. Louis, Missouri. With the Legacy tour on-going most of the wrestlers and employees are back in Australia but one man has returned to his ‘home’.
“Well Cobra, here I am.” The camera panned over to the right from the logo where the colossal frame of Spike Saunders stands. “You told me that I needed to be focused on our match. On this tournament. To put aside my obligations to the NBW and ACW so that I am 100% focused. And well here I am. Completely focused. One Hundred percent." He paused and rubbed his chin while staring ahead. "So Cobra, where are you?”
The camera pulled back to get a clear look at Saunders. Decked out in his black leather pants and dress shoes. With a XXL sleeveless grey t-shirt that covered his chest and read: ‘Please do not be alarmed, we are about to engage…’ in white text near the top while at the bottom-center were the words ‘THE NOZZLE’ in all caps and red Impact text.
‘Hah’ echoed a voice off camera.
“Lexia!” The camera snapped back to focus on Spike Saunders face as he shook his head at his camera-woman of the night with hrw brand new flip-camera. “Stay focused please.” The view tilted up and down slowly as she nodded her head and unfortunately the camera as well. “You see Cobra, I know you say that time has passed me by. You think that I have nothing left in my tank and a waste of space in this tournament. For you, I am just another stepping stone to get past. You already have your eyes set on the prize. Glancing past everybody else in the tournament. Because after all, you BEAT the favorite to win the tournament. In the Main Event no less.
“See as great as that is for you, it really does not say much about how you will fare in this tournament. You act all uppity like being in the Main Event was enormously special for you. I hate to actually disappoint you Cobra but when it comes to a wrestling event there are far more important spots to consider and be proud of. The Main Event is the headline, yes, but not the most important match of the night. Was this your first Main Event? The way you act it sure sounds like it.
“Let me ask you a question Cobra. Have you ever OPENED an event? Yes I mean being a certain jerker. The first thing the camera shows at least action wise. Have you? I have. And while the Main Event is always nice, opening a show can be just as rewarding. You are out there with your opponent setting the pace for the stage of the show and enticing the fans from the start.
“Ace Andrews and Jay Conner did just that. They set the pace with fury through their brawling, and Chad Allen and Tarrasque followed it up with an excellent match. The show flowed smoothly all the way up to the Main Event, following Zero’s impressive victory over Hollywood the fans found themselves treated to an awesome Main Event with an even more awesome, yet shocking, upset. To most.
“You understand this now I hope. So although you have every right to be gleeful about being in the Main Event with Dan Ryan, you have to thank those that came before you and warmed up the crowd. Prepared them. Excited them. It was these other competitors that win or lose, they enchanted the fans and got them so riled up that even you found yourself being chanted and cheered for against a favorite in Dan Ryan.”
Saunders shifted his gaze from the camera over to the right where Lexia spun the camera about to face an open door. Standing between the door frame was a Long-time friend/ally/rival, and elderly gentleman shorter than Saunders but what would you expect. Having noticed the camera he gave a curt smile before he spoke.
“Spike, you and Lexia still at it?”
“Yeah Mike, just taping a clip to send to the ESEN headquarters.” Stated Lexia from off camera while panning back over to the Colossus.
“Great. Dinner still set?” Michael O’Dell asked from off camera which Saunders nodded his head in answer.
“It is fine. We can pick this up in a bit. Go ahead and turn it off for now.”
No sooner than those words being stated the camera footage cut.
CUTTO: Outside the O’Connell’s Pub in St Louis where Spike Saunders, Michael O’Dell, and Lexia Hart are joined by another man and woman. Dinner freshly eaten as a round of beers were the center piece of the table, surrounded only by the dirty plates and glasses from their meal. O’Connell’s Pub, the best burgers in all of St. Louis, and that is no lie!
“God damn it is great to be back in the States!” The young woman leaned back and stretched her arms out before she made a grab at Lexia and hauled her in for a hug. “Damn good. So Spiker, heard you have your match with that Cobra fella later. Need any tips?”
Lexia once more in control of the camera panned the table to get a good view of the five individuals, including herself which she stopped on to get a good shot of the woman with the pink-tipped brunnete hair holding her tightly to her chest.
“I am good Callie. Although if you and Mike are up for it later we can hit the ring. I could do with some warm up’s before the big match.”
“Hah. Ol’ Pickles here and myself will kick your ass man.”
Saunders chuckled while Lexia focused in on him.
“Callie Urban folks. The last FWO Hardcore champion and one half the FWO tag champions with me. And STILL with that fire lit.” He grinned and quickly shoved himself backwards to avoid a dinner roll aimed at his head. “Careful Cal, you could hit something. Or someone. Or me even in that case.”
The camera panned over to Callie who now stood on her chair with her gaze on Saunders.
“Callie, get down. Behave like an adult, come on.” Stated O’Dell as he reached up and grabbed her arm to pull her down and turned back to Saunders. “So Spike forget about the match with Cobra for the moment. I know you have the match in the bag. But beyond that. If I had not retired I would have loved to face you in this tournament. Out of all the guys still in it, are there any that you want to take a shot at?”
“Of course!” Replied Saunders but the attention was currently on Callie. Lexia giggled while Callie flipped off the giant and chugged down a bottle of whiskey. Lexia then shot the camera over to Saunders and O’Dell. “Quite a few actually. Showtime is actually in this. And really we never got a chance to actually give the fans a entertaining match during his time within the NBW so it would be an honor to face him. I know I also definitely want to see Justin Voss make it past his next opponents so that we can have our long awaited rematch. Fifty nine minutes and fifty nine seconds. That number still lingers in my mind from time to time. I wonder if ESEN would be up for broadcasting another match of the caliber. Regardless though Voss is quite talented in the ring and if he truly has dropped his attitude and cheap tactics of the past I would love nothing more than to take him on again.”
“I LOVED that match.” Hollered out Callie as she downed two more glasses of whatever liquid was now being poured a third time in her glass. “The way you all went Bam. And then Whack. And Pow. Annnnnnnnd Finally Boom.”
“Me too Cal,” Lexia responded as she watched the young woman.
“Right. Fun times. And Mike, Jack’s in this too. You and I both know he has what it takes to make it to the finals and quite frankly I have been itching for a go with him again for years. I think our last match against each other, as a real match at least, was a decade ago. Can you imagine what type of fanfare a match between us two for the finals would be?”
“High Flyer versus Spike Saunders... Pay per view quality match for the tournament’s grand finish I would say. Nothing better comes to mind.” Stated O’Dell as he took a swig from his bottle of whiskey but soon it was snatched from his hand by Callie. “Hey!”
Lexia turned the camera back around to face Callie as she consumed the contents of that bottle and finally dropped her ass down on her chair and crashed her head forward into the table.
“Well I guess that is one down tonight.” Saunders chuckled while Lexia spun the camera around the table and rested on the one person that had not spoken. “And what about you, mister silence over there.”
Spike leaned across the table to get a good look at the other man sitting with them. “Well?”
The elder man groaned and lifted his head from the table. He looked to the left where a now drunken Callie Urban was passed out in the lap of Lexia. Then to the right where O’Dell snapped his fingers to his attention before following his gaze towards Saunders.
“Um, are you alright?” Spike questioned as he stood from his seat and walked over to the other side of the table and towered over the gentleman. His eyes raised and his head tilted back to look up at him with his jaw fallen open.
Then in a flash he scurried backward, tipped his chair out from under him and ran from the group screaming 'DEMONS'.
Saunders looked over at Lexia while she held the camera pointed at his direction again.
"That was interesting. Who was that?”
“Beats me.” O’Dell stated as he too stood from his chair.
“Lex?”
“I dunno. He was here with Callie already when I got here.”
“Cal?” Spike carefully shook her shoulder to shake her awake. “Hey Cal, who was that with you?”
She stared up at him and smiled. She wiggled her finger at him calling him closer so he leaned in.
“Well?”
She again smiled brightly as her hand clutched one of the bottles on the table.
“Colonel Sanders”
Her head crashed to the table again while Spike Saunders raised his palm to his face and turned back to Lexia and Michael.
“I should be shocked. I should. But this is not the first time that she took a table that was already occupied. At least this time though the guy was not knocked out from her.” He turned and looked down at her again and shook his head. “Well I hope not.”
“Right. Well Spike she is in no shape to fight tonight so what do you want to do?” Michael walked over next to the three of them. “Lexia?”
Lexia spun the camera around and rested it on the table. She then helped O’Dell pull Callie from the chair and the two had her standing in moments.
“You saw his match right? Most of his offense is the standard affair we have been through for years, but there are a few things I would like to be better prepared for. As the master technician of the mat that you are Mike, I think just a one on one training session will work.”
“Sounds good. We can always hold a mock fight with the four of us later when Callie is up for it.”
Saunders nodded in agreement but was unprepared as a swift kick from Urban connected between his legs. She smiled and looked up at him through her half-shut eyelids: “We Fight.”
The colossus stumbled against the table and caught her in his arms after she leaped away from Lexia and O’Dell. Her fists struck like a barrage of missiles at his chest while her legs kicked fiercely. She would continue to kick to try and free herself until she got lucky and one mistimed and misdirectioned kick crushed the flip camera on the table.
Nothing but darkness followed. Which marked the end to the footage and Lexia’s expensive new camera.
FTB
“Well Cobra, here I am.” The camera panned over to the right from the logo where the colossal frame of Spike Saunders stands. “You told me that I needed to be focused on our match. On this tournament. To put aside my obligations to the NBW and ACW so that I am 100% focused. And well here I am. Completely focused. One Hundred percent." He paused and rubbed his chin while staring ahead. "So Cobra, where are you?”
The camera pulled back to get a clear look at Saunders. Decked out in his black leather pants and dress shoes. With a XXL sleeveless grey t-shirt that covered his chest and read: ‘Please do not be alarmed, we are about to engage…’ in white text near the top while at the bottom-center were the words ‘THE NOZZLE’ in all caps and red Impact text.
‘Hah’ echoed a voice off camera.
“Lexia!” The camera snapped back to focus on Spike Saunders face as he shook his head at his camera-woman of the night with hrw brand new flip-camera. “Stay focused please.” The view tilted up and down slowly as she nodded her head and unfortunately the camera as well. “You see Cobra, I know you say that time has passed me by. You think that I have nothing left in my tank and a waste of space in this tournament. For you, I am just another stepping stone to get past. You already have your eyes set on the prize. Glancing past everybody else in the tournament. Because after all, you BEAT the favorite to win the tournament. In the Main Event no less.
“See as great as that is for you, it really does not say much about how you will fare in this tournament. You act all uppity like being in the Main Event was enormously special for you. I hate to actually disappoint you Cobra but when it comes to a wrestling event there are far more important spots to consider and be proud of. The Main Event is the headline, yes, but not the most important match of the night. Was this your first Main Event? The way you act it sure sounds like it.
“Let me ask you a question Cobra. Have you ever OPENED an event? Yes I mean being a certain jerker. The first thing the camera shows at least action wise. Have you? I have. And while the Main Event is always nice, opening a show can be just as rewarding. You are out there with your opponent setting the pace for the stage of the show and enticing the fans from the start.
“Ace Andrews and Jay Conner did just that. They set the pace with fury through their brawling, and Chad Allen and Tarrasque followed it up with an excellent match. The show flowed smoothly all the way up to the Main Event, following Zero’s impressive victory over Hollywood the fans found themselves treated to an awesome Main Event with an even more awesome, yet shocking, upset. To most.
“You understand this now I hope. So although you have every right to be gleeful about being in the Main Event with Dan Ryan, you have to thank those that came before you and warmed up the crowd. Prepared them. Excited them. It was these other competitors that win or lose, they enchanted the fans and got them so riled up that even you found yourself being chanted and cheered for against a favorite in Dan Ryan.”
Saunders shifted his gaze from the camera over to the right where Lexia spun the camera about to face an open door. Standing between the door frame was a Long-time friend/ally/rival, and elderly gentleman shorter than Saunders but what would you expect. Having noticed the camera he gave a curt smile before he spoke.
“Spike, you and Lexia still at it?”
“Yeah Mike, just taping a clip to send to the ESEN headquarters.” Stated Lexia from off camera while panning back over to the Colossus.
“Great. Dinner still set?” Michael O’Dell asked from off camera which Saunders nodded his head in answer.
“It is fine. We can pick this up in a bit. Go ahead and turn it off for now.”
No sooner than those words being stated the camera footage cut.
CUTTO: Outside the O’Connell’s Pub in St Louis where Spike Saunders, Michael O’Dell, and Lexia Hart are joined by another man and woman. Dinner freshly eaten as a round of beers were the center piece of the table, surrounded only by the dirty plates and glasses from their meal. O’Connell’s Pub, the best burgers in all of St. Louis, and that is no lie!
“God damn it is great to be back in the States!” The young woman leaned back and stretched her arms out before she made a grab at Lexia and hauled her in for a hug. “Damn good. So Spiker, heard you have your match with that Cobra fella later. Need any tips?”
Lexia once more in control of the camera panned the table to get a good view of the five individuals, including herself which she stopped on to get a good shot of the woman with the pink-tipped brunnete hair holding her tightly to her chest.
“I am good Callie. Although if you and Mike are up for it later we can hit the ring. I could do with some warm up’s before the big match.”
“Hah. Ol’ Pickles here and myself will kick your ass man.”
Saunders chuckled while Lexia focused in on him.
“Callie Urban folks. The last FWO Hardcore champion and one half the FWO tag champions with me. And STILL with that fire lit.” He grinned and quickly shoved himself backwards to avoid a dinner roll aimed at his head. “Careful Cal, you could hit something. Or someone. Or me even in that case.”
The camera panned over to Callie who now stood on her chair with her gaze on Saunders.
“Callie, get down. Behave like an adult, come on.” Stated O’Dell as he reached up and grabbed her arm to pull her down and turned back to Saunders. “So Spike forget about the match with Cobra for the moment. I know you have the match in the bag. But beyond that. If I had not retired I would have loved to face you in this tournament. Out of all the guys still in it, are there any that you want to take a shot at?”
“Of course!” Replied Saunders but the attention was currently on Callie. Lexia giggled while Callie flipped off the giant and chugged down a bottle of whiskey. Lexia then shot the camera over to Saunders and O’Dell. “Quite a few actually. Showtime is actually in this. And really we never got a chance to actually give the fans a entertaining match during his time within the NBW so it would be an honor to face him. I know I also definitely want to see Justin Voss make it past his next opponents so that we can have our long awaited rematch. Fifty nine minutes and fifty nine seconds. That number still lingers in my mind from time to time. I wonder if ESEN would be up for broadcasting another match of the caliber. Regardless though Voss is quite talented in the ring and if he truly has dropped his attitude and cheap tactics of the past I would love nothing more than to take him on again.”
“I LOVED that match.” Hollered out Callie as she downed two more glasses of whatever liquid was now being poured a third time in her glass. “The way you all went Bam. And then Whack. And Pow. Annnnnnnnd Finally Boom.”
“Me too Cal,” Lexia responded as she watched the young woman.
“Right. Fun times. And Mike, Jack’s in this too. You and I both know he has what it takes to make it to the finals and quite frankly I have been itching for a go with him again for years. I think our last match against each other, as a real match at least, was a decade ago. Can you imagine what type of fanfare a match between us two for the finals would be?”
“High Flyer versus Spike Saunders... Pay per view quality match for the tournament’s grand finish I would say. Nothing better comes to mind.” Stated O’Dell as he took a swig from his bottle of whiskey but soon it was snatched from his hand by Callie. “Hey!”
Lexia turned the camera back around to face Callie as she consumed the contents of that bottle and finally dropped her ass down on her chair and crashed her head forward into the table.
“Well I guess that is one down tonight.” Saunders chuckled while Lexia spun the camera around the table and rested on the one person that had not spoken. “And what about you, mister silence over there.”
Spike leaned across the table to get a good look at the other man sitting with them. “Well?”
The elder man groaned and lifted his head from the table. He looked to the left where a now drunken Callie Urban was passed out in the lap of Lexia. Then to the right where O’Dell snapped his fingers to his attention before following his gaze towards Saunders.
“Um, are you alright?” Spike questioned as he stood from his seat and walked over to the other side of the table and towered over the gentleman. His eyes raised and his head tilted back to look up at him with his jaw fallen open.
Then in a flash he scurried backward, tipped his chair out from under him and ran from the group screaming 'DEMONS'.
Saunders looked over at Lexia while she held the camera pointed at his direction again.
"That was interesting. Who was that?”
“Beats me.” O’Dell stated as he too stood from his chair.
“Lex?”
“I dunno. He was here with Callie already when I got here.”
“Cal?” Spike carefully shook her shoulder to shake her awake. “Hey Cal, who was that with you?”
She stared up at him and smiled. She wiggled her finger at him calling him closer so he leaned in.
“Well?”
She again smiled brightly as her hand clutched one of the bottles on the table.
“Colonel Sanders”
Her head crashed to the table again while Spike Saunders raised his palm to his face and turned back to Lexia and Michael.
“I should be shocked. I should. But this is not the first time that she took a table that was already occupied. At least this time though the guy was not knocked out from her.” He turned and looked down at her again and shook his head. “Well I hope not.”
“Right. Well Spike she is in no shape to fight tonight so what do you want to do?” Michael walked over next to the three of them. “Lexia?”
Lexia spun the camera around and rested it on the table. She then helped O’Dell pull Callie from the chair and the two had her standing in moments.
“You saw his match right? Most of his offense is the standard affair we have been through for years, but there are a few things I would like to be better prepared for. As the master technician of the mat that you are Mike, I think just a one on one training session will work.”
“Sounds good. We can always hold a mock fight with the four of us later when Callie is up for it.”
Saunders nodded in agreement but was unprepared as a swift kick from Urban connected between his legs. She smiled and looked up at him through her half-shut eyelids: “We Fight.”
The colossus stumbled against the table and caught her in his arms after she leaped away from Lexia and O’Dell. Her fists struck like a barrage of missiles at his chest while her legs kicked fiercely. She would continue to kick to try and free herself until she got lucky and one mistimed and misdirectioned kick crushed the flip camera on the table.
Nothing but darkness followed. Which marked the end to the footage and Lexia’s expensive new camera.
FTB
A Standard wrestling background. ULTRATITLE Logos cascading all over it. The man that stands in front of it is Cobra. Dressed his in usual promo attire of jeans, a trademark Cobra T-shirt, and on his head, his trademark wrestling mask of course. He has his head down, deep in thought. When he gets his cue to start, he slow lifts it up. His face stone cold sober, serious. Well at least his mouth and eyes are. Cobra slowly starts to speak.
Cobra: Well I guess the fun and games are now over. I wanted to take a little time and have some fun with my big win over Dan Ryan. I wanted to gloat a bit and show off. But I guess that just wasn’t going to happen. Some people just can’t take a joke around here. Everything has to be taken as truth and facts.
Some people think that I’m overly concerned with my win over Dan Ryan, that it was some highlight of my career. Some big event in my life that I just can’t see past. It’s true, beating Dan Ryan certainly ranks up there with the big wins in my career. But then again, I’m a multi-time World Champion. So of course those wins had to be more important, bigger wins in my career. Let alone the times I defended that title.
And yet some people think that I’m still worried or concerned about Dan Ryan. Now that’s funny. People think that if that first round win was important to me, then I’m just simply going to lose in the second round. Because they are better than me because of it. Now that’s funny. That’s a great joke.
Well I guess it’s time to get serious.
Spike Saunders. You are the joke.
You don’t see it now, you never have, but you’ve been a joke for years. You’ve been a joke when you decided to be a carbon copy of every big man in this business. You’ve been a joke even before you got into this business. Hell, I don’t think there was a time where you weren’t a joke in your life. And I am including all of your World Championships you’ve won over the years.
I guess we should start from the beginning with you. Back when you were just a wee little kid, aspiring to be something big, and I’m not just talking about your height. Let’s talk about your budding NBA career you decided to just throw out there to impress everyone and hammer home the fact that you’re soooo tall and sooooo big. An unstoppable force. But you’re failing to mention one very important thing about your basketball career. You need skill to be a star, even at your ridiculous height. Ask George Muresan or Shawn Bradley. Big men like that, like you, aren’t stars. They are jokes. They sell tickets so that people can go look at the freaks.
But luckily for everyone outside of the circus sideshow crowd, you decided against it. You said no to the NBA. Why? Cause you would be bored and really rich. That’s a logical answer. Makes complete sense. But we were all lucky. Why? Because you went into the world of fighting. But not just any fighting, you decided on fighting for the really rich in underground fights. What a joke. Who comes up this nonsense? You even had to mention the trophy wives. I mean really Spike? Were you out to avenge your brother’s death too? Did you have the big win in the end over Attila too? Did you save the day for your sister-in-law and your nephew? I bet you’ll even say that you were the inspiration for some Hollywood movie too.
So what was next for the big bad Spike Saunders? Did you head off to Hong Kong to participate in an illegal and underground martial arts tournament which the world's best martial artists are invited to every five years? Was there a guy that fought like a monkey? Did you lose your best friend who was a bar bawler that had a striking resemblance to Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds? I bet you won that tournament too, after being blinded by some sand.
After that I bet you came back to the states and became a fire marshal of a professional hockey arena. And while there was a playoff hockey game, you had to rush to save your daughter from their kidnappers. And you only had until the game was over to do so. And to make it even more dramatic, you had to be the goalie for a couple of minutes and the game ended up going to overtime.
Did I get that all right? Did I get your back story correct or did I get lost in some ridiculous movie career. I can’t quite tell; they seem to start at the same exact storyline. Do you finally see what I mean Spike? Do you see how you’ve been a joke your entire life? Do you see how ridiculous you are? And we haven’t even talked about your wrestling career.
So let’s do that. There’s not much to say really. I mean you just reinforced everything that I said before. You’re career is over. You even talked about it. You know this may be your last hurrah. This may be the last thing you do in this business that has any importance. You’re in the twilight of your career.
You openly admitted that you are nothing like you were in your prime. You openly admitted that you are a different man than when you were in your glory days. I don’t have to say it for you. You know it. You told everyone. This is it. The end of your career.
You also liked to compare the two of us. Yes, we’ve both been around for years. Yes, we’ve both been here since the golden age. We were both in the FWO, the WWR. We’ve been here for years. We have almost a half century of experience between the two of us. But there is one major deciding difference between the two of us. There is one single thing that makes me better than you, and will make me the victor in this match.
While you were in your prime a decade ago, while you are in the twilight of your career, while you have maybe one or two really good matches left in your career; I am just getting started. Think back to those glory days of the FWO and WWR, and the like. Do you even remember me being there? No. I barely remember being there. Why? Because I was barely there. I couldn’t cut it back then. I was young. I was learning. I was trying to get better each and every show that I was there for. While you had your glory days, I was getting better.
Now you’re here as a name. You’re the legend that wants to get one more shot a glory until he is forgotten forever. To be forgotten in this business just like Prince Miggs, Dane Wilt, Phelan Kell, The Immortal, Ray Chavez, Michael O’Dell, and Welby. The very ones you compared yourself. Forgotten. Irrelevant to those that come to the ring each and every night.
Me on the other hand. I have gotten better with each and every match I’m in. I finally became a World Champion of note just a handful of years ago. Sure I’ve had other world titles, we’ve all had championships that were officially world championships, but they were ones that no one cared about. I was a world champion back in 1996. But I don’t talk about it. Why? Because no one will remember it. Everyone that was there, that cared, that watched, they’re all gone. But I’m still here, getting better nightly.
You’ve gone through the tapes. You mentioned how you looked at my matches back in the WfWA. You said I wasn’t a pushover, that I’m a damn good wrestler and that you wished to have faced me back then in my prime. But what you fail to mention, what you fail to realize, is that the archaic old tapes that you watched, they’re only a couple of years old. They’re current. I’m current.
You’re getting your wish. I’m in my prime now. My glory days are just starting. I am relevant now. I am important now. I’m not a legend. I’ll admit that. People in this tournament barely knew me before I got here. But now they do. Now they know what I’m capable of. Now they look forward to seeing what I’ll do next. I’m not legend, no, not yet. But what I am…
I’m a legend killer.
And yet, here you are an old blabbering mess. Ranting on and on, contradicting yourself over and over again. You talk about how you need this match, this tournament. Why? After such a great career, you need this tournament because why? You want something you never could try to get when you were in your prime. You simply need this.
You then say that you think I need this more than you do. That you want to see me face Eric Dane and get my vindication. You do understand that the only way I can do that is by beating you and several more people. Right? I can only face Dane in the end of this tournament. Which means you want to see me beat you. You know I want it more than you, and you want me to do it too.
But you need this.
Makes complete sense, you doddering old fool. Complete sense.
So why do you need this? Really. It just can’t be because you never participated in your heyday. There’s more. As you said, you do it for the fans. The ones that pay us. The ones that you want to impress. The ones that you want to entertain. That’s why you want to do it. For the kids. You want to go out there and put on a big exciting five star match and impress everyone in the crowd. That’s why you need this. That’s why you’re here.
Another joke.
Where was all that against El Lobo Loco? You didn’t even give the fans a cute little moment and partake in his dancing. Instead, you went out there and squashed him. Oh yea. That got the crowd excited, that sure was entertaining. Certainly worth a five star rating.
Oh wait. I’m joking. That wasn’t you. That was me.
You can go on and on about the different roles wrestlers can have in a card. Opening the show sets the tone. Blah Blah. You did a lot of talking about everyone else on the card. But you failed to talk about your twenty seconds. What role did that play in the fans getting ready for the main event. Were you the piss break? Or were you the beer run? I can’t remember, because you were that forgettable.
Now, I was the one that went out there and put on a show. I was the main event. A place I know very well. It’s a place I live. My time warming up the crowd is over. I’m the one that closes the show. I’m the one that sends people home amazed. You said it yourself. The fans found themselves treated to an awesome main event. Your words. It even amazed you, the living legend from another era. I amazed you.
See, I did what you claim you’re all about. I was the one that turned an entire arena in just a couple of minutes. I got an entire arena chanting my name, only minutes after they were all chanting for some legend. I was the one that put on a real show. I was the one that entertained them. Where you failed to do what you wanted to do, I did it for you.
And I couldn’t give a **** about them.
I’m not here for them. I don’t care if they even show up. I’m not in it for that anymore. I’ve done that for years. I’m done with it. I’m done with them. I’ll wrestle in an empty arena and win the match I’m in. I’ll put in the exact same effort in that match as I would in front of 70,000 people in a sold out football stadium. I don’t care. It’s not for them.
I’m sick of trying to please them. I’ve already said it. I’ve already talked about why I’m here. You must have missed it. Must not have had your hearing aid in. Must not have had the volume loud enough. So I’ll make it very easy for you to understand me. I’ll say it loud and slow for you. So pay attention as I explain myself one more time.
I. AM. IN. THIS. FOR. ME. M. E. ME.
I am here to prove to myself that I am still the best wrestler in the world today. That I am the best at this business and that no one can beat me. I’ve been there before and I’m going to do it again. That’s all that matters to me. Not the fans. Not some deity that I created in my mind for a couple of years. Not for the demons I face.
Just me. Finally it’s all about me.
You’ve asked where I went after Dane ruined my life and career. You asked what I did in my time off. I’ll tell you. I’ve prepared for this moment. Not the match between you and I. Not this tournament. No. I prepared for the moment that I would return to the top of a very tall mountain. A mountain that is shockingly even taller than the Colossus. Again we get it. Tall.
If I’m not going to be the best out there in the ring, I shouldn’t be out there. That’s something you long forgotten. So why do you still do it? The money? The hubris? Sure you continue to work. You go out there night after night in your little NBW and put on the same show over and over again. What does that prove? That you can still do it? That seniors still serve a function in this society?
If you can’t be the best. If you can’t go out there and give it your all and come out on top. You don’t deserve to continue in this business. When Dane ruined my life, I longer believed. I no longer thought I was the best. It took until now that I finally believed in myself again. That I believed I was the best in the world. I proved it in the first round against Ryan. And now I’m going to prove it again against you in the second round. I’ll move on and on and prove it each round until there is no one left in this tournament. Until finally I can say, undisputedly that I am the best in the world.
I hope you enjoyed that Early Bird Special dinner with your old friend. It’s going to be your last in this tournament.
Cobra: Well I guess the fun and games are now over. I wanted to take a little time and have some fun with my big win over Dan Ryan. I wanted to gloat a bit and show off. But I guess that just wasn’t going to happen. Some people just can’t take a joke around here. Everything has to be taken as truth and facts.
Some people think that I’m overly concerned with my win over Dan Ryan, that it was some highlight of my career. Some big event in my life that I just can’t see past. It’s true, beating Dan Ryan certainly ranks up there with the big wins in my career. But then again, I’m a multi-time World Champion. So of course those wins had to be more important, bigger wins in my career. Let alone the times I defended that title.
And yet some people think that I’m still worried or concerned about Dan Ryan. Now that’s funny. People think that if that first round win was important to me, then I’m just simply going to lose in the second round. Because they are better than me because of it. Now that’s funny. That’s a great joke.
Well I guess it’s time to get serious.
Spike Saunders. You are the joke.
You don’t see it now, you never have, but you’ve been a joke for years. You’ve been a joke when you decided to be a carbon copy of every big man in this business. You’ve been a joke even before you got into this business. Hell, I don’t think there was a time where you weren’t a joke in your life. And I am including all of your World Championships you’ve won over the years.
I guess we should start from the beginning with you. Back when you were just a wee little kid, aspiring to be something big, and I’m not just talking about your height. Let’s talk about your budding NBA career you decided to just throw out there to impress everyone and hammer home the fact that you’re soooo tall and sooooo big. An unstoppable force. But you’re failing to mention one very important thing about your basketball career. You need skill to be a star, even at your ridiculous height. Ask George Muresan or Shawn Bradley. Big men like that, like you, aren’t stars. They are jokes. They sell tickets so that people can go look at the freaks.
But luckily for everyone outside of the circus sideshow crowd, you decided against it. You said no to the NBA. Why? Cause you would be bored and really rich. That’s a logical answer. Makes complete sense. But we were all lucky. Why? Because you went into the world of fighting. But not just any fighting, you decided on fighting for the really rich in underground fights. What a joke. Who comes up this nonsense? You even had to mention the trophy wives. I mean really Spike? Were you out to avenge your brother’s death too? Did you have the big win in the end over Attila too? Did you save the day for your sister-in-law and your nephew? I bet you’ll even say that you were the inspiration for some Hollywood movie too.
So what was next for the big bad Spike Saunders? Did you head off to Hong Kong to participate in an illegal and underground martial arts tournament which the world's best martial artists are invited to every five years? Was there a guy that fought like a monkey? Did you lose your best friend who was a bar bawler that had a striking resemblance to Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds? I bet you won that tournament too, after being blinded by some sand.
After that I bet you came back to the states and became a fire marshal of a professional hockey arena. And while there was a playoff hockey game, you had to rush to save your daughter from their kidnappers. And you only had until the game was over to do so. And to make it even more dramatic, you had to be the goalie for a couple of minutes and the game ended up going to overtime.
Did I get that all right? Did I get your back story correct or did I get lost in some ridiculous movie career. I can’t quite tell; they seem to start at the same exact storyline. Do you finally see what I mean Spike? Do you see how you’ve been a joke your entire life? Do you see how ridiculous you are? And we haven’t even talked about your wrestling career.
So let’s do that. There’s not much to say really. I mean you just reinforced everything that I said before. You’re career is over. You even talked about it. You know this may be your last hurrah. This may be the last thing you do in this business that has any importance. You’re in the twilight of your career.
You openly admitted that you are nothing like you were in your prime. You openly admitted that you are a different man than when you were in your glory days. I don’t have to say it for you. You know it. You told everyone. This is it. The end of your career.
You also liked to compare the two of us. Yes, we’ve both been around for years. Yes, we’ve both been here since the golden age. We were both in the FWO, the WWR. We’ve been here for years. We have almost a half century of experience between the two of us. But there is one major deciding difference between the two of us. There is one single thing that makes me better than you, and will make me the victor in this match.
While you were in your prime a decade ago, while you are in the twilight of your career, while you have maybe one or two really good matches left in your career; I am just getting started. Think back to those glory days of the FWO and WWR, and the like. Do you even remember me being there? No. I barely remember being there. Why? Because I was barely there. I couldn’t cut it back then. I was young. I was learning. I was trying to get better each and every show that I was there for. While you had your glory days, I was getting better.
Now you’re here as a name. You’re the legend that wants to get one more shot a glory until he is forgotten forever. To be forgotten in this business just like Prince Miggs, Dane Wilt, Phelan Kell, The Immortal, Ray Chavez, Michael O’Dell, and Welby. The very ones you compared yourself. Forgotten. Irrelevant to those that come to the ring each and every night.
Me on the other hand. I have gotten better with each and every match I’m in. I finally became a World Champion of note just a handful of years ago. Sure I’ve had other world titles, we’ve all had championships that were officially world championships, but they were ones that no one cared about. I was a world champion back in 1996. But I don’t talk about it. Why? Because no one will remember it. Everyone that was there, that cared, that watched, they’re all gone. But I’m still here, getting better nightly.
You’ve gone through the tapes. You mentioned how you looked at my matches back in the WfWA. You said I wasn’t a pushover, that I’m a damn good wrestler and that you wished to have faced me back then in my prime. But what you fail to mention, what you fail to realize, is that the archaic old tapes that you watched, they’re only a couple of years old. They’re current. I’m current.
You’re getting your wish. I’m in my prime now. My glory days are just starting. I am relevant now. I am important now. I’m not a legend. I’ll admit that. People in this tournament barely knew me before I got here. But now they do. Now they know what I’m capable of. Now they look forward to seeing what I’ll do next. I’m not legend, no, not yet. But what I am…
I’m a legend killer.
And yet, here you are an old blabbering mess. Ranting on and on, contradicting yourself over and over again. You talk about how you need this match, this tournament. Why? After such a great career, you need this tournament because why? You want something you never could try to get when you were in your prime. You simply need this.
You then say that you think I need this more than you do. That you want to see me face Eric Dane and get my vindication. You do understand that the only way I can do that is by beating you and several more people. Right? I can only face Dane in the end of this tournament. Which means you want to see me beat you. You know I want it more than you, and you want me to do it too.
But you need this.
Makes complete sense, you doddering old fool. Complete sense.
So why do you need this? Really. It just can’t be because you never participated in your heyday. There’s more. As you said, you do it for the fans. The ones that pay us. The ones that you want to impress. The ones that you want to entertain. That’s why you want to do it. For the kids. You want to go out there and put on a big exciting five star match and impress everyone in the crowd. That’s why you need this. That’s why you’re here.
Another joke.
Where was all that against El Lobo Loco? You didn’t even give the fans a cute little moment and partake in his dancing. Instead, you went out there and squashed him. Oh yea. That got the crowd excited, that sure was entertaining. Certainly worth a five star rating.
Oh wait. I’m joking. That wasn’t you. That was me.
You can go on and on about the different roles wrestlers can have in a card. Opening the show sets the tone. Blah Blah. You did a lot of talking about everyone else on the card. But you failed to talk about your twenty seconds. What role did that play in the fans getting ready for the main event. Were you the piss break? Or were you the beer run? I can’t remember, because you were that forgettable.
Now, I was the one that went out there and put on a show. I was the main event. A place I know very well. It’s a place I live. My time warming up the crowd is over. I’m the one that closes the show. I’m the one that sends people home amazed. You said it yourself. The fans found themselves treated to an awesome main event. Your words. It even amazed you, the living legend from another era. I amazed you.
See, I did what you claim you’re all about. I was the one that turned an entire arena in just a couple of minutes. I got an entire arena chanting my name, only minutes after they were all chanting for some legend. I was the one that put on a real show. I was the one that entertained them. Where you failed to do what you wanted to do, I did it for you.
And I couldn’t give a **** about them.
I’m not here for them. I don’t care if they even show up. I’m not in it for that anymore. I’ve done that for years. I’m done with it. I’m done with them. I’ll wrestle in an empty arena and win the match I’m in. I’ll put in the exact same effort in that match as I would in front of 70,000 people in a sold out football stadium. I don’t care. It’s not for them.
I’m sick of trying to please them. I’ve already said it. I’ve already talked about why I’m here. You must have missed it. Must not have had your hearing aid in. Must not have had the volume loud enough. So I’ll make it very easy for you to understand me. I’ll say it loud and slow for you. So pay attention as I explain myself one more time.
I. AM. IN. THIS. FOR. ME. M. E. ME.
I am here to prove to myself that I am still the best wrestler in the world today. That I am the best at this business and that no one can beat me. I’ve been there before and I’m going to do it again. That’s all that matters to me. Not the fans. Not some deity that I created in my mind for a couple of years. Not for the demons I face.
Just me. Finally it’s all about me.
You’ve asked where I went after Dane ruined my life and career. You asked what I did in my time off. I’ll tell you. I’ve prepared for this moment. Not the match between you and I. Not this tournament. No. I prepared for the moment that I would return to the top of a very tall mountain. A mountain that is shockingly even taller than the Colossus. Again we get it. Tall.
If I’m not going to be the best out there in the ring, I shouldn’t be out there. That’s something you long forgotten. So why do you still do it? The money? The hubris? Sure you continue to work. You go out there night after night in your little NBW and put on the same show over and over again. What does that prove? That you can still do it? That seniors still serve a function in this society?
If you can’t be the best. If you can’t go out there and give it your all and come out on top. You don’t deserve to continue in this business. When Dane ruined my life, I longer believed. I no longer thought I was the best. It took until now that I finally believed in myself again. That I believed I was the best in the world. I proved it in the first round against Ryan. And now I’m going to prove it again against you in the second round. I’ll move on and on and prove it each round until there is no one left in this tournament. Until finally I can say, undisputedly that I am the best in the world.
I hope you enjoyed that Early Bird Special dinner with your old friend. It’s going to be your last in this tournament.