RUSSIAN ROULETTE 2012: EPW IC TITLE: Impulse (c) vs. Copycat vs. Larry Tact
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
Starbreaker
Member
Late start, early start.
FADE IN.
(The sky is dark; stars unseen, clouded by typical New York City light pollution; the moon shines overhead. CUTTO: inside a gym. Larry Tact, wearing a pair of black shorts and tanktop, finishing a set of squats. He eases the barbell from his shoulders and lets it drop to the mats afterward, but his olive-green eyes look like he's only done with the physical portion of his regimen - the easy stuff. He picks up a towel and wipes his forehead as he walks through a doorway, out of sight.
FADETO: Tact coming back into the gym. He has on a gray Kenneth Cole dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, a white t-shirt beneath it; steel-blue Ralph Lauren jeans; black Kenneth Cole shoes. His jaw-length, golden blonde hair hangs loose, and his skin has a natural tan. A duffel bag is slung over his shoulder by its strap, but Tact sets it down on the bench as he sees the camera and waves it over.)
CAMERAMAN: "They just told me to come here from corporate. No one said you were in the middle of something."
LARRY TACT: "Yeah, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."
CM: "You, uh, do know what time it is?"
(Tact shrugs.)
LT: "Morning."
CM: "Barely... it's almost 5:00am."
LT: "I like to get an early start. And I was finishing up some dates with my brother at Korakuen Hall and Dome shows this week. I may still be readjusting."
CM: "You mean... in Japan?"
LT: "That would be where Korakuen Hall and the Tokyo Dome are, yes."
CM: "Right. Right. I hear it's amazing there."
LT: "You know that was one of the most-used, or overused, words of 2011?"
CM: "What?"
(Tact, opening a pocket on the bag, waves it off.)
LT: "Amazing. Bit of useless trivia, forget it. Now that you're here, I want to talk about Russian Roulette."
CM: "Kind of figured. This going to be a while?"
(Tact looks by the camera for a moment.)
LT: "What's your name?"
CM: "Uh... Drew."
(He pulls an Invicta silver monochrome watch, with black band, out of the bag and secures it to his wrist.)
LT: "You have somewhere to be, Drew?"
CM: "Other than my bed, asleep? Not really."
LT: "Tough life. Getting paid overtime for this?"
CM: "Yeah, right. I'm just on-call tonight. Getting paid is supposed to be its own blessing, these days. Overtime is blasphemy."
LT: "Well, Drew, appreciate your coming all the way here. Good news is, you can get sleep anytime, but right now it's time to earn that EPW compensation. Let me do my part, and we'll be out of here before you can say, 'Sensoji Asakusa shitamachi' ten times fast."
(A grunt from the other side of the camera. Finished with adjusting the Invicta, Tact looks up and flashes a small grin.)
"Some opportunities don't come too often, do they? I mean, Copycat, you and I are in EPW, now. On the surface, that seems like a pretty obvious statement. But for me, it's been pretty difficult getting back to this point. This match almost didn't happen, and that's on both of us, C-Square."
"Impulse, I'll try to spare you and EPW a drawn out abomination of back-and-forth with Him on this, and get it out of the way now. We'll all have plenty of time to say our piece."
"I'm sure you'll take it like a Champ."
(He smirks and gives a quick thumbs up.)
"Originally, when I came back, this wasn't what I had in mind. I thought once I refereed the Wrestleverse match, that was the only return I'd have to make in 2011. And I don't care what anyone thinks of it; the footage is on file, debate away. Anarky was the better man that night."
"The following Aggression, I had a plan. Tag match, then get Copycat to the ring and make sure we were good. I considered bringing Wells and making a reunion of sorts... I would have asked Cruise, Edmunds, and Hart, but that's asking for a mess. Point being, I thought we would be alright out there, at least, one more time."
"But during that tag match, Copycat, you showed up and made it all clear. Or, you showed the excuse you had settled on for why you lost at Wrestleverse. I guess some part of me understood you may have needed to play that blame game -- we haven't always been on the same page in our careers. But after the run we did have, I thought you would at least have the respect to wait. At least face-up to me. At that point, if you still wanted a fight, fine. In retrospect, I'm clear on it. After Wrestleverse... we both know your pride couldn't take coming up on the wrong end, again. Cats are more fragile than they show their owners. And with the states we were in at Aggression 60... I would have owned you."
"So, instead? Litterbomb off the apron, with my back turned. I wish Dean hadn't been quite so detailed, because it would have been easier to play off the damage. You injured my neck and, by all rights, I shouldn't have been out there at Aggression 61..."
"But I waited so... damn... long to get back. I pushed through it."
"I haven't lost my ability to mask pain, and talked my way into Aggression 62. After Karl Brown was launched onto me, though, my doctor wouldn't clear me. Go figure, he had my best interests in mind."
(He shrugs.)
"For the record, YOUR efforts at Wrestleverse forced me to rule you as not good enough to be the best in EPW, Cat. You couldn't get there on your own. Now you want a match with me because you weren't good enough? Just remember you are bringing it all down on yourself."
"But now I get to set the record straight, the right way. Take the blame of losing YOUR match... on yourself, Cat. At Russian Roulette, we close the book on all this. It's past time, but like I said, the opportunities have been few and far between. And that goes for more than just settling scores."
(He pulls a water bottle from the bag and takes a drink.)
"My last EPW singles title shot was at Unleashed 2009... no, 2008. I earned it against then-Intercontinental Champion, Troy Douglas, at Aggression... 38. So even with Copycat in this match, I am not taking a shot at the Intercontinental Championship for granted. Nor the present title holder."
"A month ago, sitting on a flight to Narita airport, I certainly didn't think I'd be counting my GOOD fortunes heading into Russian Roulette. Sitting in Dan Ryan's office, after Aggression 63, there was no need to say anything -- I just enjoyed watching everything unfold."
"COPYCAT, you know what I-- oh, wait. Well, ask your stooge. You had to be there."
"I walked out of there feeling fortunate. On the one hand, I was getting Copycat. On the other, I was getting the Intercontinental Champion."
(He looks down, shakes his head for a moment.)
"I know I haven't earned the shot. Truth be told, it's a little uncomfortable, not the way I operate. But you've been someone I've watched, at least since you arrived in EPW. I enjoyed seeing how things unfolded in Ryan's office because Impulse, this is another match I wanted. The circumstances may not be ideal, depending on how you look at it. I can't complain; I'm the challenger."
"Anyway, you asked for the triple threat. I would have made the same call if I were you. That just leaves C-Squared as the uncomfortable party in the room. In other words, it's all good."
"You don't have to care, but I like what I've heard and seen of you. Doesn't mean I agree with you in all ways, and it doesn't have to. This isn't a friendship contest, it's a contest of skills. It's just refreshing to see others who are truly dedicated to finding out the better man through wrestling. Copycat can say what he wants about his cause-- I'm confident we're going to hear about it, via Aaron Jones. I also know you've already made his mission statement look like swiss cheese."
"As for me? Well, for one thing, I'm that guy you referred to, once. The one who was a wrestler that dissented just a bit. That's to say, I'm not a pure technical wrestler anymore. But I'm technically grounded, and that's a nice thing for someone looking to show he belongs in a title match. I think it would be tough to dispute your opponent's level when your brain is saying not to quit, and your body isn't so sure."
(He shrugs.)
"Just fair warning. It's all about the opportunities that arise. There was one thing I agreed with Dis about. Sometimes you need to just go for broke, all or nothing. Like the Babe said, right Impulse? Your average may dip, but when you hit you hit big."
"I have a golden opportunity, and I've got virtually nothing to lose. Russian Roulette is really appropo... I may as well take my shot and make the most of it. Plus, bargains are hard to come by, these days... but a one-in-three chance of becoming Champion and getting some retribution, at the same time? That sounds way better than any sh***y blue-light special."
"And I don't mean disrespect, Impulse. You haven't done anything to warrant that. Just the same, I don't see the point of giving you the, 'I know you'll bring the best you've got, and I'll do the same!' Ra-Ra bit. Consider its absence a modicum of respect. But that respect is for being a Champion here, and nothing more. Bottom-line: I don't know who you really are, Impulse, so you deserve nothing more than that title grants you."
"I won't make any bones about it: I think I have what it takes to become the new Intercontinental Champion at Russian Roulette. You've said you think you can hold that title for some time to come. Copycat thinks He's a demigod, or someone who can guide us mere wrestlers."
"So go ahead, Impulse.... RK... define me. If you think you know, feel free to tell me all about myself. Tell me why I won't be able to pull it off against you and the Cat. You are a self-proclaimed realist. Provide EPW and the world with the reality of what's coming. Like I said, I'm looking forward to this match for several reasons. I will welcome what you have to offer."
"Because regardless... at Russian Roulette, we'll find out who won't just be thinking, or saying. Someone's gonna DO it."
(He picks the duffel bag off the bench and slings it over his shoulder.)
"One thing I'm pretty sure we can all agree on, though... converging circumstances or whatnot... this match should steal the whole damn show."
"And to the victor go the spoils."
(He grins and walks out of the gym.)
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
(The sky is dark; stars unseen, clouded by typical New York City light pollution; the moon shines overhead. CUTTO: inside a gym. Larry Tact, wearing a pair of black shorts and tanktop, finishing a set of squats. He eases the barbell from his shoulders and lets it drop to the mats afterward, but his olive-green eyes look like he's only done with the physical portion of his regimen - the easy stuff. He picks up a towel and wipes his forehead as he walks through a doorway, out of sight.
FADETO: Tact coming back into the gym. He has on a gray Kenneth Cole dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, a white t-shirt beneath it; steel-blue Ralph Lauren jeans; black Kenneth Cole shoes. His jaw-length, golden blonde hair hangs loose, and his skin has a natural tan. A duffel bag is slung over his shoulder by its strap, but Tact sets it down on the bench as he sees the camera and waves it over.)
CAMERAMAN: "They just told me to come here from corporate. No one said you were in the middle of something."
LARRY TACT: "Yeah, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."
CM: "You, uh, do know what time it is?"
(Tact shrugs.)
LT: "Morning."
CM: "Barely... it's almost 5:00am."
LT: "I like to get an early start. And I was finishing up some dates with my brother at Korakuen Hall and Dome shows this week. I may still be readjusting."
CM: "You mean... in Japan?"
LT: "That would be where Korakuen Hall and the Tokyo Dome are, yes."
CM: "Right. Right. I hear it's amazing there."
LT: "You know that was one of the most-used, or overused, words of 2011?"
CM: "What?"
(Tact, opening a pocket on the bag, waves it off.)
LT: "Amazing. Bit of useless trivia, forget it. Now that you're here, I want to talk about Russian Roulette."
CM: "Kind of figured. This going to be a while?"
(Tact looks by the camera for a moment.)
LT: "What's your name?"
CM: "Uh... Drew."
(He pulls an Invicta silver monochrome watch, with black band, out of the bag and secures it to his wrist.)
LT: "You have somewhere to be, Drew?"
CM: "Other than my bed, asleep? Not really."
LT: "Tough life. Getting paid overtime for this?"
CM: "Yeah, right. I'm just on-call tonight. Getting paid is supposed to be its own blessing, these days. Overtime is blasphemy."
LT: "Well, Drew, appreciate your coming all the way here. Good news is, you can get sleep anytime, but right now it's time to earn that EPW compensation. Let me do my part, and we'll be out of here before you can say, 'Sensoji Asakusa shitamachi' ten times fast."
(A grunt from the other side of the camera. Finished with adjusting the Invicta, Tact looks up and flashes a small grin.)
"Some opportunities don't come too often, do they? I mean, Copycat, you and I are in EPW, now. On the surface, that seems like a pretty obvious statement. But for me, it's been pretty difficult getting back to this point. This match almost didn't happen, and that's on both of us, C-Square."
"Impulse, I'll try to spare you and EPW a drawn out abomination of back-and-forth with Him on this, and get it out of the way now. We'll all have plenty of time to say our piece."
"I'm sure you'll take it like a Champ."
(He smirks and gives a quick thumbs up.)
"Originally, when I came back, this wasn't what I had in mind. I thought once I refereed the Wrestleverse match, that was the only return I'd have to make in 2011. And I don't care what anyone thinks of it; the footage is on file, debate away. Anarky was the better man that night."
"The following Aggression, I had a plan. Tag match, then get Copycat to the ring and make sure we were good. I considered bringing Wells and making a reunion of sorts... I would have asked Cruise, Edmunds, and Hart, but that's asking for a mess. Point being, I thought we would be alright out there, at least, one more time."
"But during that tag match, Copycat, you showed up and made it all clear. Or, you showed the excuse you had settled on for why you lost at Wrestleverse. I guess some part of me understood you may have needed to play that blame game -- we haven't always been on the same page in our careers. But after the run we did have, I thought you would at least have the respect to wait. At least face-up to me. At that point, if you still wanted a fight, fine. In retrospect, I'm clear on it. After Wrestleverse... we both know your pride couldn't take coming up on the wrong end, again. Cats are more fragile than they show their owners. And with the states we were in at Aggression 60... I would have owned you."
"So, instead? Litterbomb off the apron, with my back turned. I wish Dean hadn't been quite so detailed, because it would have been easier to play off the damage. You injured my neck and, by all rights, I shouldn't have been out there at Aggression 61..."
"But I waited so... damn... long to get back. I pushed through it."
"I haven't lost my ability to mask pain, and talked my way into Aggression 62. After Karl Brown was launched onto me, though, my doctor wouldn't clear me. Go figure, he had my best interests in mind."
(He shrugs.)
"For the record, YOUR efforts at Wrestleverse forced me to rule you as not good enough to be the best in EPW, Cat. You couldn't get there on your own. Now you want a match with me because you weren't good enough? Just remember you are bringing it all down on yourself."
"But now I get to set the record straight, the right way. Take the blame of losing YOUR match... on yourself, Cat. At Russian Roulette, we close the book on all this. It's past time, but like I said, the opportunities have been few and far between. And that goes for more than just settling scores."
(He pulls a water bottle from the bag and takes a drink.)
"My last EPW singles title shot was at Unleashed 2009... no, 2008. I earned it against then-Intercontinental Champion, Troy Douglas, at Aggression... 38. So even with Copycat in this match, I am not taking a shot at the Intercontinental Championship for granted. Nor the present title holder."
"A month ago, sitting on a flight to Narita airport, I certainly didn't think I'd be counting my GOOD fortunes heading into Russian Roulette. Sitting in Dan Ryan's office, after Aggression 63, there was no need to say anything -- I just enjoyed watching everything unfold."
"COPYCAT, you know what I-- oh, wait. Well, ask your stooge. You had to be there."
"I walked out of there feeling fortunate. On the one hand, I was getting Copycat. On the other, I was getting the Intercontinental Champion."
(He looks down, shakes his head for a moment.)
"I know I haven't earned the shot. Truth be told, it's a little uncomfortable, not the way I operate. But you've been someone I've watched, at least since you arrived in EPW. I enjoyed seeing how things unfolded in Ryan's office because Impulse, this is another match I wanted. The circumstances may not be ideal, depending on how you look at it. I can't complain; I'm the challenger."
"Anyway, you asked for the triple threat. I would have made the same call if I were you. That just leaves C-Squared as the uncomfortable party in the room. In other words, it's all good."
"You don't have to care, but I like what I've heard and seen of you. Doesn't mean I agree with you in all ways, and it doesn't have to. This isn't a friendship contest, it's a contest of skills. It's just refreshing to see others who are truly dedicated to finding out the better man through wrestling. Copycat can say what he wants about his cause-- I'm confident we're going to hear about it, via Aaron Jones. I also know you've already made his mission statement look like swiss cheese."
"As for me? Well, for one thing, I'm that guy you referred to, once. The one who was a wrestler that dissented just a bit. That's to say, I'm not a pure technical wrestler anymore. But I'm technically grounded, and that's a nice thing for someone looking to show he belongs in a title match. I think it would be tough to dispute your opponent's level when your brain is saying not to quit, and your body isn't so sure."
(He shrugs.)
"Just fair warning. It's all about the opportunities that arise. There was one thing I agreed with Dis about. Sometimes you need to just go for broke, all or nothing. Like the Babe said, right Impulse? Your average may dip, but when you hit you hit big."
"I have a golden opportunity, and I've got virtually nothing to lose. Russian Roulette is really appropo... I may as well take my shot and make the most of it. Plus, bargains are hard to come by, these days... but a one-in-three chance of becoming Champion and getting some retribution, at the same time? That sounds way better than any sh***y blue-light special."
"And I don't mean disrespect, Impulse. You haven't done anything to warrant that. Just the same, I don't see the point of giving you the, 'I know you'll bring the best you've got, and I'll do the same!' Ra-Ra bit. Consider its absence a modicum of respect. But that respect is for being a Champion here, and nothing more. Bottom-line: I don't know who you really are, Impulse, so you deserve nothing more than that title grants you."
"I won't make any bones about it: I think I have what it takes to become the new Intercontinental Champion at Russian Roulette. You've said you think you can hold that title for some time to come. Copycat thinks He's a demigod, or someone who can guide us mere wrestlers."
"So go ahead, Impulse.... RK... define me. If you think you know, feel free to tell me all about myself. Tell me why I won't be able to pull it off against you and the Cat. You are a self-proclaimed realist. Provide EPW and the world with the reality of what's coming. Like I said, I'm looking forward to this match for several reasons. I will welcome what you have to offer."
"Because regardless... at Russian Roulette, we'll find out who won't just be thinking, or saying. Someone's gonna DO it."
(He picks the duffel bag off the bench and slings it over his shoulder.)
"One thing I'm pretty sure we can all agree on, though... converging circumstances or whatnot... this match should steal the whole damn show."
"And to the victor go the spoils."
(He grins and walks out of the gym.)
FADE OUT.
Last edited:
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Triangles
(FADEIN... Well, there's no nicely named cameraperson present.
I typically don't use third parties, because I get inspired late at night or early in the morning and it's really not nice of me to make the Empire's support staff meet me at whatever bar, restaurant, gig, or hotspot I happen to be in when it's time.
Actually, Dan Ryan was pretty pleased with the deal he got from me. I cut a promo with my own camera, don't do any editing, drop it in the mail or email it to the web team and they post it up; again, without any editing.
And with that, I get over. Jamming econo is more than just a catchphrase for the punk rock anachronists; it's a way to crank out inspiration without needing inspiration, motivation, a cushy trailer and a soy mocha latte. Which, by the way, are really really gross. I've only done mainstream television twice in my life; the first was a two line cameo on a terrible prime time television show where the only caffeinated beverage they had was that abomination. Fortunately, the second was an interview on Juliya's show on Fuse and I was overjoyed to find some high quality beer.
I feel I'm losing my point.
It's three thirty in the morning and I'm enjoying a Jager/Red Bull at Rock & Rose on east 53rd. Its' a new stopover in my life; Rose and I aren't huge fans of bars in and of themselves, we prefer going to places where our friends work and in the past few months a ton of our friends started working here. Demilitia played Santos earlier and while I felt funny going without Rose (see our recent adventures in the New Frontier for the reasons why) since they're her favorite local metal band, Jenn is the only one of our friends who always shows up when I'm wrestling in New York or New Jersey; she deserves the same consideration.
I'm still losing my point. Tight zoom on the glass.)
"I didn't ask for this."
Not in the Anarky sense, although I'm sure Dis and her total separation from reality won't care. Hooray for out of context quotations!
"Going into Russian Roulette, I was hoping to finally settle things with Steven Shane. It was fairly frustrating wrestling a series of matches either against or partnered up with a guy who wasn't exactly pulling his weight to the point where he was getting cheers for the slightest bit of effort and imagination... Well, it was frustrating, to be honest. But, win or lose, I was looking forward to having the book closed on this portion of my career and moving onwards and upwards."
"Then the rug got pulled out from under all of it, and I went from a blowoff match to being on the outside, looking in."
I think you have an idea what that's like, Larry?
"Just as unappealing as not being on the show, was being a second match for someone else. Don't get me wrong, I'll defend my title against anyone anywhere at any time, but what good is it to wrestle against someone who has already wrestled once before?"
"You've obviously studied enough about me to know what makes me tick: what you may or may not have learned in your studies is that when it comes to an endurance test, I'm head and shoulders above anyone else in this company."
Or any other company that exists.
"I've wrestled Copycat before, Larry. I know what he can do. You, I only know by reputation and the limited bit I've seen of you since WrestleVerse, but you're certainly cut from the same cloth. If we went by Dan Ryan's original plan, you two would've beaten the hell out of each other with one of you winning and coming into your Intercontinental Title shot at about fifteen percent of your potential."
"Call it arrogance, call it confidence, call it whatever you want, but if I'm full up and I'm going against any opponent at fifteen percent of their potential, and it's going to be over and I'll be back in the locker room with my belt before I have time to break a sweat."
"I wrestled a tough match to win this belt, and I prefer to prove that I've earned it."
That's why I didn't want to wrestle the winner of your match.
"But I've probably put myself in an awkward spot by stepping in between two men who already wanted to tear each other apart. I admit, it was partly for selfish reasons: I wanted another chance at Copycat myself."
"Since you're a smart guy, Larry, you no doubt know what happened the last time I stepped into the ring with him. In my first singles match in the Empire, two shows removed from Copycat's chance of a lifetime against Nark... he decided he was done trying to put me down, and he took a countout to avoid any more damage."
And with that, I took a drink.
"I'm curious as to what happens with Cat when he doesn't have a more pressing engagement down the pike."
"And of course... after studying up on my Larry Tact, I'm interested in matching up my skill against yours."
"You're something that's in short supply in this business these days, Larry... you're a wrestler. I love going head to head with wrestlers, because you need to get creative to take us out."
"Brawler? Push the time, he'll tire out."
"Garbage wrestler? Play defense, they always make a mistake."
"High flyer?"
The type, not Jack Harmen.
"Sooner or later, they always miss."
"You can't shortcut a wrestler, Larry, and you know that just as well as I do."
And you can't shortcut me, even if you are a wrestler.
"Here's the fun part, Larry... I don't define my opponents by any kind of generic pigeonhole. Sure, Opponent A is Wrestling Type B, that's my starting point. But that's just a starting point, sir - every match is different, every opponent is different, and every opponent, whether they can wrestle or not, can get the win over any other wrestler on any given night."
Be a boy scout, Larry... be prepared. It's never steered me wrong.
"I think you've been expecting me to treat you like every other opponent you've ever had. I think you're expecting me to run down a list of accomplishments and tell you why yours pale in comparison to mine."
Is this what happens when two opponents are too smart for their own good?
"Instead, Larry, I want to tell you about one opponent I had, almost three years ago. It was a part of the final TEAM season, and this guy and I were going at it, over and over and over. Eventually he decided that I wasn't going to win because at no time did I ever guarantee victory. I told him I think I'm better, and I'm going to wrestle my ass off - but that I can't read the future so I was certainly never going to guarantee victory."
"To this man, that was a sign of weakness."
"His name was DC Stark, and I haven't heard a thing about him in this business since I pinned him to the mat. Decisively."
"So that's my story, Larry. I won't tell you what kind of wrestler you are, because you very well know. I won't tell you what kind of wrestler I am, because it'll either meet your preconceived notions or it won't, and if it doesn't, nothing will convince you of anything that doesn't fit. I won't guarantee victory because I can't see the future, and that goes double for a triple threat match where anything usually goes."
"But I'll tell you this, Larry."
Another drink.
"I didn't come this far to lose the Empire's Intercontinental Championship in the middle of a war that I have nothing to do with."
"I haven't fought as hard as I have for as long as I have in the Empire to be an innocent bystander why the fate of my Championship is decided between two other men, either."
"The long and the short of it, Larry, is that this is going to be the most hard fought match of your career."
I can't tell you any specifics of your career before Wrestleverse 2011, and I still say that with a hundred percent certainty.
"And you're going to have to do much better than beat Copycat to take the Empire's Intercontinental Championship, Larry."
"You're going to have to beat me."
For some reason, I think that's going to be a little bit more difficult... and I'm well aware of how arrogant that makes me sound.
I like to think of it as confidence based on past performance.
"We're in complete agreement on one thing, however."
"You and I?"
And Copycat, I suppose.
"We're going to steal the show."
FADE
(FADEIN... Well, there's no nicely named cameraperson present.
I typically don't use third parties, because I get inspired late at night or early in the morning and it's really not nice of me to make the Empire's support staff meet me at whatever bar, restaurant, gig, or hotspot I happen to be in when it's time.
Actually, Dan Ryan was pretty pleased with the deal he got from me. I cut a promo with my own camera, don't do any editing, drop it in the mail or email it to the web team and they post it up; again, without any editing.
And with that, I get over. Jamming econo is more than just a catchphrase for the punk rock anachronists; it's a way to crank out inspiration without needing inspiration, motivation, a cushy trailer and a soy mocha latte. Which, by the way, are really really gross. I've only done mainstream television twice in my life; the first was a two line cameo on a terrible prime time television show where the only caffeinated beverage they had was that abomination. Fortunately, the second was an interview on Juliya's show on Fuse and I was overjoyed to find some high quality beer.
I feel I'm losing my point.
It's three thirty in the morning and I'm enjoying a Jager/Red Bull at Rock & Rose on east 53rd. Its' a new stopover in my life; Rose and I aren't huge fans of bars in and of themselves, we prefer going to places where our friends work and in the past few months a ton of our friends started working here. Demilitia played Santos earlier and while I felt funny going without Rose (see our recent adventures in the New Frontier for the reasons why) since they're her favorite local metal band, Jenn is the only one of our friends who always shows up when I'm wrestling in New York or New Jersey; she deserves the same consideration.
I'm still losing my point. Tight zoom on the glass.)
"I didn't ask for this."
Not in the Anarky sense, although I'm sure Dis and her total separation from reality won't care. Hooray for out of context quotations!
"Going into Russian Roulette, I was hoping to finally settle things with Steven Shane. It was fairly frustrating wrestling a series of matches either against or partnered up with a guy who wasn't exactly pulling his weight to the point where he was getting cheers for the slightest bit of effort and imagination... Well, it was frustrating, to be honest. But, win or lose, I was looking forward to having the book closed on this portion of my career and moving onwards and upwards."
"Then the rug got pulled out from under all of it, and I went from a blowoff match to being on the outside, looking in."
I think you have an idea what that's like, Larry?
"Just as unappealing as not being on the show, was being a second match for someone else. Don't get me wrong, I'll defend my title against anyone anywhere at any time, but what good is it to wrestle against someone who has already wrestled once before?"
"You've obviously studied enough about me to know what makes me tick: what you may or may not have learned in your studies is that when it comes to an endurance test, I'm head and shoulders above anyone else in this company."
Or any other company that exists.
"I've wrestled Copycat before, Larry. I know what he can do. You, I only know by reputation and the limited bit I've seen of you since WrestleVerse, but you're certainly cut from the same cloth. If we went by Dan Ryan's original plan, you two would've beaten the hell out of each other with one of you winning and coming into your Intercontinental Title shot at about fifteen percent of your potential."
"Call it arrogance, call it confidence, call it whatever you want, but if I'm full up and I'm going against any opponent at fifteen percent of their potential, and it's going to be over and I'll be back in the locker room with my belt before I have time to break a sweat."
"I wrestled a tough match to win this belt, and I prefer to prove that I've earned it."
That's why I didn't want to wrestle the winner of your match.
"But I've probably put myself in an awkward spot by stepping in between two men who already wanted to tear each other apart. I admit, it was partly for selfish reasons: I wanted another chance at Copycat myself."
"Since you're a smart guy, Larry, you no doubt know what happened the last time I stepped into the ring with him. In my first singles match in the Empire, two shows removed from Copycat's chance of a lifetime against Nark... he decided he was done trying to put me down, and he took a countout to avoid any more damage."
And with that, I took a drink.
"I'm curious as to what happens with Cat when he doesn't have a more pressing engagement down the pike."
"And of course... after studying up on my Larry Tact, I'm interested in matching up my skill against yours."
"You're something that's in short supply in this business these days, Larry... you're a wrestler. I love going head to head with wrestlers, because you need to get creative to take us out."
"Brawler? Push the time, he'll tire out."
"Garbage wrestler? Play defense, they always make a mistake."
"High flyer?"
The type, not Jack Harmen.
"Sooner or later, they always miss."
"You can't shortcut a wrestler, Larry, and you know that just as well as I do."
And you can't shortcut me, even if you are a wrestler.
"Here's the fun part, Larry... I don't define my opponents by any kind of generic pigeonhole. Sure, Opponent A is Wrestling Type B, that's my starting point. But that's just a starting point, sir - every match is different, every opponent is different, and every opponent, whether they can wrestle or not, can get the win over any other wrestler on any given night."
Be a boy scout, Larry... be prepared. It's never steered me wrong.
"I think you've been expecting me to treat you like every other opponent you've ever had. I think you're expecting me to run down a list of accomplishments and tell you why yours pale in comparison to mine."
Is this what happens when two opponents are too smart for their own good?
"Instead, Larry, I want to tell you about one opponent I had, almost three years ago. It was a part of the final TEAM season, and this guy and I were going at it, over and over and over. Eventually he decided that I wasn't going to win because at no time did I ever guarantee victory. I told him I think I'm better, and I'm going to wrestle my ass off - but that I can't read the future so I was certainly never going to guarantee victory."
"To this man, that was a sign of weakness."
"His name was DC Stark, and I haven't heard a thing about him in this business since I pinned him to the mat. Decisively."
"So that's my story, Larry. I won't tell you what kind of wrestler you are, because you very well know. I won't tell you what kind of wrestler I am, because it'll either meet your preconceived notions or it won't, and if it doesn't, nothing will convince you of anything that doesn't fit. I won't guarantee victory because I can't see the future, and that goes double for a triple threat match where anything usually goes."
"But I'll tell you this, Larry."
Another drink.
"I didn't come this far to lose the Empire's Intercontinental Championship in the middle of a war that I have nothing to do with."
"I haven't fought as hard as I have for as long as I have in the Empire to be an innocent bystander why the fate of my Championship is decided between two other men, either."
"The long and the short of it, Larry, is that this is going to be the most hard fought match of your career."
I can't tell you any specifics of your career before Wrestleverse 2011, and I still say that with a hundred percent certainty.
"And you're going to have to do much better than beat Copycat to take the Empire's Intercontinental Championship, Larry."
"You're going to have to beat me."
For some reason, I think that's going to be a little bit more difficult... and I'm well aware of how arrogant that makes me sound.
I like to think of it as confidence based on past performance.
"We're in complete agreement on one thing, however."
"You and I?"
And Copycat, I suppose.
"We're going to steal the show."
FADE
GARTHIsTheLaw
League Member
<i>(We fade in on a hotel room largely devoid of distinguishing features, save an overall atmosphere that indicates it wasn’t especially expensive. The central focus of the camera image is Aaron Jones, who, after turning it on, sits on the foot of the bed facing the camera, which is presumably situated atop the room’s television set. He looks tired and annoyed. On his lap is an open laptop computer, which faces him)</i>
<b>Aaron Jones:</b> So this is the result of my efforts. My attempt to pass along the one message he has conveyed to me since Wrestleverse IV.
<i>(Jones – trying to mask his frustration with a blank look of boredom, but not doing a very good job of it – turns the laptop around so its screen faces the camera. He lifts it up and leans it forward so the camera can get a low-quality look at the image onscreen: the blurb on the EPW website for the Intercontinental Title match at Russian Roulette. After holding up the computer for a few seconds, Jones sets it down on the bed beside him)</i>
<b>Jones:</b> I went into that meeting with Dan Ryan carrying a clearer picture of his intentions than I have carried in months.
Since his betrayal at the hands of Larry Tact, I had been entirely without his guidance. He did not even communicate with me prior to heading to the ring for his match at Aggression 63. I followed him to the ring more out of precedent than anything else. I did nothing at ringside but watch, and neither, you could argue, did he.
I don’t mean to say he deliberately lost that match to Rezin, or that he chose to let Cameron Cruise be pinned rather than intervene himself. But everything I saw indicated to me that he had no interest in winning, or even competing, really. Even in his countout loss to Impulse in the weeks before Wrestleverse IV, he showed more energy than he showed at this most recent event.
Just as he told me nothing about his plans for his match with Cruise and Rezin, he told me nothing about his plans to attack Steven Shane. That he never seems to act without premeditation is the only evidence I have that he planned to attack Shane at all; otherwise, he could have just been a man in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After that, he left the arena. No explanations. No justifications. No clear plans.
You can imagine, then, how eager I was for the message he delivered days later. I already knew he’d been summoned to EPW offices for a meeting about his match at Russian Roulette. I was expecting him to no-show that meeting and assumed I would have to take his place to try to deduce his intentions. I didn’t expect him to make his wishes clear to me.
But he did. While I was on the way to EPW offices, no less.
The message I got was very simple. Larry Tact. One-on-one. Russian Roulette. No exceptions.
<i>(Jones adopts a disgusted facial expression, though it’s clear from his tone of voice that he’s less disgusted than he is disappointed with himself)</i>
<b>Jones:</b> And this is what happened instead. His one request ruined by the presence of an interloper. His only true interest replaced with an ultimatum: Dilute your retribution with the presence of this interloper, or be cast out of EPW and rendered unable to finish your important work.
I’d like to think he will take this in stride. I’d like to think he’ll simply incapacitate Impulse long enough to square things up with Tact, then deal with Impulse at his own pace.
I’m oversimplifying things, I know – I’m not a wrestler, and despite all I’ve learned from him about the business, my brain hasn’t been rewired to the point that I have the right instincts. That scenario probably doesn’t give either of his opponents enough credit. Incapacitating Impulse and settling the score with Larry Tact, from all the evidence I’ve seen, will both be time-consuming tasks.
But it’s the plan I would go with if I were in his position. If he’s motivated, I have every confidence that he can figure out the particulars in such a way as to make it feasible.
Yes, there is an “if” in that sentence, and yes, I realize it’s a big “if.” But I suspect none of us will know until Russian Roulette what’s reality and what’s just hypothetical.
Until then, I need to address Larry Tact.
Larry, I’ve had plenty of things to say about you since Wrestleverse. But I was hoping to hold off on addressing you directly until I got some sort of guidance from him. Seeing as that appears unlikely to happen, though, let me set you straight on some things.
I can understand how you might think his quarrel with you is that you did not call his match with Anarky right down the middle. That’s what everyone has speculated since he targeted you at Aggression 60, and he hasn’t made it clear – through me – that those speculations are wrong.
But I don’t think his problem is with the quality of your officiating. He has a keener eye than I do, but I certainly didn’t see anything during that match to make me think otherwise.
His objection, I think, is that you agreed to the officiating job to begin with. Dan Ryan, whose actions he opposed in every conceivable way and who had outright declared war on him, needed a referee for that match who Ryan thought would be sympathetic, who would have a vested interest in seeing Anarky walk out of Wrestleverse IV the EPW World Heavyweight Champion, and who would take steps necessary to ensuring that outcome.
Dan Ryan chose you. And you agreed to do the job.
That was your betrayal.
You have to understand, Larry, that after the collapse of Anthology, you were the only member of that group – besides himself – who held up its stated ideals of saving this business. Shawn Hart went into business for himself – and then for Anarky – when he saw a better career opportunity. Cameron Cruise was too absorbed in his own success. Jared Wells was too unfocused. Sean Edmunds could barely be bothered to pay attention to anything that was happening. And Sean Stevens outright admitted he was only using Anthology to further his own gains.
He held you up as a shining example of true dedication to the salvation of this industry. When you were unjustly fired from EPW, he campaigned for your rehiring, and then, when you appeared unwilling to join the fight, for punitive measures against the people who effected it.
And for all that, you returned at the request of the very status-quo-upholding figures who had terminated you to occupy a role custom-designed for his defeat.
You betrayed him, Larry. Your standing up to be counted with those who would destroy this business hurt him far worse than a physical attack from a more hands-on guest referee.
I can’t tell you with any certainty how he might react when he finally gets a chance to face you in the ring. Nor can I tell you how Impulse’s presence might alter things, or how his reactions might change due to having Impulse to deal with. I wish I could.
All I can tell you is how he has reacted to betrayal in the past.
EPW Unleashed. One year ago. Sean Stevens betrayed the ideals of Anthology, then stood up to be counted with Dan Ryan and the enemies of this business. Sean Stevens put himself in a position very similar to the one you occupy now.
And he ended Sean Stevens’ career.
I can’t tell you what he might do at Russian Roulette. I can only tell you what he’s capable of.
And if he decides to show you precisely what he’s capable of, you are going to wish you had stayed fired.
<i>(Jones glares into the camera. He stands up to turn it off, pausing midway in an attempt to hide what might be nervous shaking or what might have just been a shiver. Recovering, he switches off the camera and we cut to black)</i>
<i>(A few seconds later, another image appears to occupy the screen. Through an open garage door, we see a figure – too far in the shadows to be visible – get into a car. A second later, the car turns on, and it slowly backs out of the garage. As it passes, the camera catches a glimpse of Copycat through the driver’s side window. He briefly stops to look into the camera, then continues backing out. After another second, we cut back to black)</i>
<b>Aaron Jones:</b> So this is the result of my efforts. My attempt to pass along the one message he has conveyed to me since Wrestleverse IV.
<i>(Jones – trying to mask his frustration with a blank look of boredom, but not doing a very good job of it – turns the laptop around so its screen faces the camera. He lifts it up and leans it forward so the camera can get a low-quality look at the image onscreen: the blurb on the EPW website for the Intercontinental Title match at Russian Roulette. After holding up the computer for a few seconds, Jones sets it down on the bed beside him)</i>
<b>Jones:</b> I went into that meeting with Dan Ryan carrying a clearer picture of his intentions than I have carried in months.
Since his betrayal at the hands of Larry Tact, I had been entirely without his guidance. He did not even communicate with me prior to heading to the ring for his match at Aggression 63. I followed him to the ring more out of precedent than anything else. I did nothing at ringside but watch, and neither, you could argue, did he.
I don’t mean to say he deliberately lost that match to Rezin, or that he chose to let Cameron Cruise be pinned rather than intervene himself. But everything I saw indicated to me that he had no interest in winning, or even competing, really. Even in his countout loss to Impulse in the weeks before Wrestleverse IV, he showed more energy than he showed at this most recent event.
Just as he told me nothing about his plans for his match with Cruise and Rezin, he told me nothing about his plans to attack Steven Shane. That he never seems to act without premeditation is the only evidence I have that he planned to attack Shane at all; otherwise, he could have just been a man in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After that, he left the arena. No explanations. No justifications. No clear plans.
You can imagine, then, how eager I was for the message he delivered days later. I already knew he’d been summoned to EPW offices for a meeting about his match at Russian Roulette. I was expecting him to no-show that meeting and assumed I would have to take his place to try to deduce his intentions. I didn’t expect him to make his wishes clear to me.
But he did. While I was on the way to EPW offices, no less.
The message I got was very simple. Larry Tact. One-on-one. Russian Roulette. No exceptions.
<i>(Jones adopts a disgusted facial expression, though it’s clear from his tone of voice that he’s less disgusted than he is disappointed with himself)</i>
<b>Jones:</b> And this is what happened instead. His one request ruined by the presence of an interloper. His only true interest replaced with an ultimatum: Dilute your retribution with the presence of this interloper, or be cast out of EPW and rendered unable to finish your important work.
I’d like to think he will take this in stride. I’d like to think he’ll simply incapacitate Impulse long enough to square things up with Tact, then deal with Impulse at his own pace.
I’m oversimplifying things, I know – I’m not a wrestler, and despite all I’ve learned from him about the business, my brain hasn’t been rewired to the point that I have the right instincts. That scenario probably doesn’t give either of his opponents enough credit. Incapacitating Impulse and settling the score with Larry Tact, from all the evidence I’ve seen, will both be time-consuming tasks.
But it’s the plan I would go with if I were in his position. If he’s motivated, I have every confidence that he can figure out the particulars in such a way as to make it feasible.
Yes, there is an “if” in that sentence, and yes, I realize it’s a big “if.” But I suspect none of us will know until Russian Roulette what’s reality and what’s just hypothetical.
Until then, I need to address Larry Tact.
Larry, I’ve had plenty of things to say about you since Wrestleverse. But I was hoping to hold off on addressing you directly until I got some sort of guidance from him. Seeing as that appears unlikely to happen, though, let me set you straight on some things.
I can understand how you might think his quarrel with you is that you did not call his match with Anarky right down the middle. That’s what everyone has speculated since he targeted you at Aggression 60, and he hasn’t made it clear – through me – that those speculations are wrong.
But I don’t think his problem is with the quality of your officiating. He has a keener eye than I do, but I certainly didn’t see anything during that match to make me think otherwise.
His objection, I think, is that you agreed to the officiating job to begin with. Dan Ryan, whose actions he opposed in every conceivable way and who had outright declared war on him, needed a referee for that match who Ryan thought would be sympathetic, who would have a vested interest in seeing Anarky walk out of Wrestleverse IV the EPW World Heavyweight Champion, and who would take steps necessary to ensuring that outcome.
Dan Ryan chose you. And you agreed to do the job.
That was your betrayal.
You have to understand, Larry, that after the collapse of Anthology, you were the only member of that group – besides himself – who held up its stated ideals of saving this business. Shawn Hart went into business for himself – and then for Anarky – when he saw a better career opportunity. Cameron Cruise was too absorbed in his own success. Jared Wells was too unfocused. Sean Edmunds could barely be bothered to pay attention to anything that was happening. And Sean Stevens outright admitted he was only using Anthology to further his own gains.
He held you up as a shining example of true dedication to the salvation of this industry. When you were unjustly fired from EPW, he campaigned for your rehiring, and then, when you appeared unwilling to join the fight, for punitive measures against the people who effected it.
And for all that, you returned at the request of the very status-quo-upholding figures who had terminated you to occupy a role custom-designed for his defeat.
You betrayed him, Larry. Your standing up to be counted with those who would destroy this business hurt him far worse than a physical attack from a more hands-on guest referee.
I can’t tell you with any certainty how he might react when he finally gets a chance to face you in the ring. Nor can I tell you how Impulse’s presence might alter things, or how his reactions might change due to having Impulse to deal with. I wish I could.
All I can tell you is how he has reacted to betrayal in the past.
EPW Unleashed. One year ago. Sean Stevens betrayed the ideals of Anthology, then stood up to be counted with Dan Ryan and the enemies of this business. Sean Stevens put himself in a position very similar to the one you occupy now.
And he ended Sean Stevens’ career.
I can’t tell you what he might do at Russian Roulette. I can only tell you what he’s capable of.
And if he decides to show you precisely what he’s capable of, you are going to wish you had stayed fired.
<i>(Jones glares into the camera. He stands up to turn it off, pausing midway in an attempt to hide what might be nervous shaking or what might have just been a shiver. Recovering, he switches off the camera and we cut to black)</i>
<i>(A few seconds later, another image appears to occupy the screen. Through an open garage door, we see a figure – too far in the shadows to be visible – get into a car. A second later, the car turns on, and it slowly backs out of the garage. As it passes, the camera catches a glimpse of Copycat through the driver’s side window. He briefly stops to look into the camera, then continues backing out. After another second, we cut back to black)</i>
Starbreaker
Member
FADE IN.
(The gaggle of humanity. The sounds that hit us are not ones of loud, undiscernable noise-- this is a restaurant, not a nightclub. The lights are set low but not so that the walls feel like they are closing in on us. The place is not small-- there are around 25 tables-- but the conversation of the patrons mixes together to make no particular one more important.
Even if you're sitting at one of the tables. Looking at four plates of giant-sized wings, and drumsticks, with someone ogling and hooting that they haven't seen portions like this in the city. A middle-aged man, portly in a 'big boned' way; facial stubble and a shaved head. The camera pans around the place, showing a mix of 20- and 30-somethings. This is a vibrant crowd that is enjoying their time. Larry Tact is heard behind the camera.)
LARRY TACT: "Best wings in the city are at BoKa, no doubt about it. Dude, Trent, dig in! They aren't just there to get wide-eyed over, like seeing your first set of t*ts."
TRENT: "I don't think I had time to get wide-eyed over seeing t*ts, man."
LT: "Point taken. So treat this the same and DIVE ON IN!"
(Trent proceeds to tear apart the food, wing after succulent, glazed wing. Tact turns the camera on himself for a second, a shoulders-and-up shot, smirking.)
LT: "Hey Dan, sorry we're using some EPW TV time here, but it's for a good cause. Your cameraman thought he could finish the 20-piece Spicy wing/drumstick combo. I say he's full of it. And as they say in wrestling... we're gonna find out, TONIGHT."
(He turns back the camera, and judging by the level of shakiness, it seems to be a handheld camera. A bucket on the table shows five bones already disposed of from the plate. Panning over to Trent, we see he is already looking at the glass of water taunting him.)
LT: "You said no water! Got to finish it dry!"
TRENT: "What do they glaze these in, fireradish?! Damn... I don't want to stop eating them, but my tongue is starting to numb..."
LT: "Less thinking, more eating!!!"
(He turns the camera back on himself.)
LT: "I actually prefer the Soy Garlic, for those interested. Dan, I swear the ratings are spiking right now!"
(He turns the camera back and we notice a couple of people watching the table as Trent begins to labori in breathing. A hand, presumably Tact's, sneaks into the edge of the shot to grab a pint of beer, then disappears as the cameraman, or supposed to be, forges on.)
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
(A bar, subdued and quiet. Lavender, sky blue, and red lights cast a mix of hues over the place, which has a counter, a few tables, a mounted HDTV, a couple speakers on either end of the place for music, and probably a restroom somewhere out of sight. Larry Tact is relaxing at the bar, wearing a collared dress shirt and slacks. One arm rests on the counter, and he acknowledges the camera as his hand keeps to the beat of some 90s rock music playing.)[/i]
LT: "Well, I thought it would be better not to draw too much attention to ourselves, so we couldn't show the entire contest. Needless to say, Trent has returned behind the camera with zero ability to speak, at least anything coherent. Give it another hour and he'll be fine. It's the kick of those wings, man, they are no joke at BoKa. Beer doesn't really do much to dull the heat of them, though, you should have known that! Anyway, East Village has some great spots."
"Now, you can say filming that was a waste of a few minutes. You could say it was my showing that I'm not heartless to the poor cameramen of wrestling. You could say it was a cheap plug, a ratings experiment. You could say it was throwing sh*t on the proverbial wall and seeing if it sticks."
(He receives a drink from the bartender. The color of it is dark, but tough to tell what it is because of the colored lights. It appears to be a cocktail, by the glass, and Tact takes a sip.)
"Where else is innovation born from?"
"What's the point of playing things safe when there are ample opportunities to get creative and have fun?"
"If you don't take some risks, you end up creating an invisible barrier around yourself. You end up isolating, becoming less concerned about what's out there to be had, and more concerned with protecting what you know is obtainable within your comfort zone."
"Before you know it, you've become a prisoner of your own self-imposed rule."
(He takes another sip as the bartender walks by.)
"Sheila, honey, this is one's a sweet winner."
SHEILA: "Godiva Irish Coffee. Thought it might hit the spot."
LT: "Perfect end to the night, aside from you here."
(She winks and walks off.)
"I've been listening to you two, Impulse... Copycat through proxy Aaron Jones. Or is it Aaron Jones on the inner monologue of Copycat? Well, it's a twist. I'll go with it."
"It seems as if you took my words as a challenge, Impulse. Define me. Tell me where I fall in that scheme of wrestling archetypes. It wasn't a test, and it wasn't a challenge. Just someone who was interested in hearing the thoughts of the Intercontinental Champion."
"I understand, though. Wrestling has changed since even ten years ago, when I broke into the pro circuit. And even then, it hasn't been a forum for people to be too trusting and welcoming of honest opinions. Now, some would say it's even less so."
"I did find it somewhat surprising for you to criticize styles other than technical. I don't know if you really meant it, because I'm sure you know of aerial artists and brawlers who are legends of this industry. I don't believe you're devoid of wrestling history, or have gaps for anyone outside the technical realm. That is sheer ignorance, and you don't strike me as the type. Or maybe it's just that I don't think someone capable of capturing the EPW Intercontinental Champion would lack that kind of knowledge. Color me prepared."
"There's something to be said about the cult of wrestling, though. The cult and culture, how this world within a world of ours forms and changes. What people consider good and bad qualities within our realm. Say what you will, but I don't think there are too many careers where so many different personalities, value sets, and opinions come together."
"It makes wrestling the greatest, and it also makes it extremely volatile."
(He takes another sip of the drink, setting it down and propping a leg on a barstool rung.)
"There's an atmosphere of distrust, paranoia, and people form those invisible barriers around them. They want to ward away the tricks and the traps of others, who would try to prove them wrong and steal their thunder. Villainous folk. The type you want to smack around real good, except in wrestling they may smack back harder. So it's easier for a lot of the players to play it safe and keep within their bubble."
"Well, call me ignorant, foolish, or just plain bold, but I never liked it that way. I can't keep my big mouth shut. There's too much to say about the world, and wrestling is no exception. And believe me, I've paid heavy prices for what I've said and done in this industry. I don't stand before you a saint, either. But you either back down or you stand up, and I've never been comfortable backing down. Especially from a challenge."
"Why would either of you be any different? What would make me anything but interested in getting in the ring with both of you, in a high stakes Pay-Per-View match?"
"You two, on the other hand, seem to react a bit differently to my words. Yes, Impulse, I'm a wrestler. But what I said didn't just make you think of that. What came to your mind was the memory of a man you got in the ring with, and presumably put out of the industry. Not in an injured sense, but... what? Was he so embarrassed to lose to you that he couldn't stand the thought of entering the ring again? Did you emasculate him in the ring to such a point where he couldn't show himself again? Or beat the passion out of him?"
"I remember being in a few TEAM events, myself. You never know who you may draw. I could check the film, but what you said is enough. DC Stark is the thought I triggered."
"And what of you, Aaron Jones? You want to bring up ending the career of Sean Stevens. How he 'put himself' in 'a similar position' as I am now. Suspect as that all sounds, that is what I bring out of you."
"Injuries. The prospect of being taken out of the industry, presumably or decisively. Career-ending situation. This is what you have to share with me."
"I could take it as a credit to my ability and level, the place I've established for myself. I could take it as hollow threats from people who think they have me figured out, like that hasn't happened before. But I cannot deny the possibility of what you're saying exists. Wrestling can be unpredictable, and Copycat already injured me once since I came back."
"But I did come back. Copycat either didn't want to take me out; lacked the ability; or just plain couldn't find it in him to follow-through. Either way, I'm here and he had his chance to take me off guard. Now I'm alert, I'm even more ready to kick his ass, and I've taken his best shot before the match has begun. I know its capability."
"Impulse, while I appreciate the sentiments of how we operate as wrestlers, I don't think you're too smart for your own good. I think you can make criticisms about technical or 'pure' wrestlers, just as you did with other styles. Do you think we're really above any other style, in terms of our chances to succeed? Personally, I doubt it."
"Better yet, tell me this, if you can: imagine every wrestler knew the same moves-- every move in the book, even. Every style, with perfect execution. Do you think every match between them would be a draw?"
"Do you think, if we all are at an equal skill level, that we will have a draw?"
"I guarantee you, with all the confidence I do bring into Russian Roulette... I'm not heading in believing that I am any better or worse, in terms of wrestling skill, than either of you."
(He sits down on the stool.)
"Not even my actions, but just the possibility of my being aligned with Dan Ryan provoked Copycat to attack me from behind. To Litterbomb me off the apron, it just took the thought. Wrestling is a land that paranoia came in and harvested. And paranoia has since struck gold in many places, to deep levels."
"Anthology was a group of equals. It wasn't that any of us weren't pulling our weight, Aaron. It was that paranoia seeped into certain parts... and cracked the clear vision of those who believed. It was obvious even before I was forced out of EPW."
"There was a week or so after I was removed where I felt completely pissed off. But the world is too big to not find a new door when one closes. Or, hell, make a new entrance into somewhere. I wasn't going to linger around on the sidelines, where I wasn't wanted, when there were plenty of opportunities elsewhere. I let it go and moved onto something new and different."
"That wouldn't have happened earlier in my career. I would have been bitter and angry, and tried to force my way back in. Maybe buy tickets to a few shows and wreak havoc, who knows? But why try to get back in somewhere that you've been told you aren't wanted? I suppose there are some exceptions, but I didn't see any of them applying to my situation."
(He takes a drink of the Godiva Irish Coffee.)
"Then I get a call from Dan Ryan. He gives me an opportunity to come back and resume my EPW career, says I just have to referee the match. There were no clauses or conditions for my return, no requirement for bias to be present. If Dan Ryan really looked at that match, and where I'd gravitate my bias in favor of, who's to say it would be Anarky? A guy I've bloodied and been bloodied by? Someone whom I, while in Anthology, fought against? I don't see the lines drawn so clear as Mr. Jones, I guess."
"Or maybe Aaron and Copycat just never saw the paranoia coming, seeping in, and taking grip. You and I are not the same, Copycat. That's true. It isn't because we don't both look to the future of wrestling and want that future to be bright. It's not because I betrayed any cause."
"I hope neither of you are planning on waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of a mistake I make in this match. Because even if it may come, even if that door may open for you... who's to say the chances are that I won't have made you wait before I answer... waiting behind that door... ready to strike when you go to open it?"
"Hold-counterhold, right, Impulse?"
"If the door is locked, I won't be ringing a doorbell or knocking until someone opens up. I'll find a window, go down the chimney, crawl through the f*cking sewer if I needs a way badly enough. I will come prepared, you can count on that."
"Prepared to define the price of attacking me. Prepared to set the standard for the Intercontinental Championship."
"At Russian Roulette, my shot will be fully loaded, my opportunity three seconds long."
(He finishes the Godiva Irish Coffee, setting it down on the bar.)
"And that's all I'll need to end it."
FADE OUT.
(The gaggle of humanity. The sounds that hit us are not ones of loud, undiscernable noise-- this is a restaurant, not a nightclub. The lights are set low but not so that the walls feel like they are closing in on us. The place is not small-- there are around 25 tables-- but the conversation of the patrons mixes together to make no particular one more important.
Even if you're sitting at one of the tables. Looking at four plates of giant-sized wings, and drumsticks, with someone ogling and hooting that they haven't seen portions like this in the city. A middle-aged man, portly in a 'big boned' way; facial stubble and a shaved head. The camera pans around the place, showing a mix of 20- and 30-somethings. This is a vibrant crowd that is enjoying their time. Larry Tact is heard behind the camera.)
LARRY TACT: "Best wings in the city are at BoKa, no doubt about it. Dude, Trent, dig in! They aren't just there to get wide-eyed over, like seeing your first set of t*ts."
TRENT: "I don't think I had time to get wide-eyed over seeing t*ts, man."
LT: "Point taken. So treat this the same and DIVE ON IN!"
(Trent proceeds to tear apart the food, wing after succulent, glazed wing. Tact turns the camera on himself for a second, a shoulders-and-up shot, smirking.)
LT: "Hey Dan, sorry we're using some EPW TV time here, but it's for a good cause. Your cameraman thought he could finish the 20-piece Spicy wing/drumstick combo. I say he's full of it. And as they say in wrestling... we're gonna find out, TONIGHT."
(He turns back the camera, and judging by the level of shakiness, it seems to be a handheld camera. A bucket on the table shows five bones already disposed of from the plate. Panning over to Trent, we see he is already looking at the glass of water taunting him.)
LT: "You said no water! Got to finish it dry!"
TRENT: "What do they glaze these in, fireradish?! Damn... I don't want to stop eating them, but my tongue is starting to numb..."
LT: "Less thinking, more eating!!!"
(He turns the camera back on himself.)
LT: "I actually prefer the Soy Garlic, for those interested. Dan, I swear the ratings are spiking right now!"
(He turns the camera back and we notice a couple of people watching the table as Trent begins to labori in breathing. A hand, presumably Tact's, sneaks into the edge of the shot to grab a pint of beer, then disappears as the cameraman, or supposed to be, forges on.)
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
(A bar, subdued and quiet. Lavender, sky blue, and red lights cast a mix of hues over the place, which has a counter, a few tables, a mounted HDTV, a couple speakers on either end of the place for music, and probably a restroom somewhere out of sight. Larry Tact is relaxing at the bar, wearing a collared dress shirt and slacks. One arm rests on the counter, and he acknowledges the camera as his hand keeps to the beat of some 90s rock music playing.)[/i]
LT: "Well, I thought it would be better not to draw too much attention to ourselves, so we couldn't show the entire contest. Needless to say, Trent has returned behind the camera with zero ability to speak, at least anything coherent. Give it another hour and he'll be fine. It's the kick of those wings, man, they are no joke at BoKa. Beer doesn't really do much to dull the heat of them, though, you should have known that! Anyway, East Village has some great spots."
"Now, you can say filming that was a waste of a few minutes. You could say it was my showing that I'm not heartless to the poor cameramen of wrestling. You could say it was a cheap plug, a ratings experiment. You could say it was throwing sh*t on the proverbial wall and seeing if it sticks."
(He receives a drink from the bartender. The color of it is dark, but tough to tell what it is because of the colored lights. It appears to be a cocktail, by the glass, and Tact takes a sip.)
"Where else is innovation born from?"
"What's the point of playing things safe when there are ample opportunities to get creative and have fun?"
"If you don't take some risks, you end up creating an invisible barrier around yourself. You end up isolating, becoming less concerned about what's out there to be had, and more concerned with protecting what you know is obtainable within your comfort zone."
"Before you know it, you've become a prisoner of your own self-imposed rule."
(He takes another sip as the bartender walks by.)
"Sheila, honey, this is one's a sweet winner."
SHEILA: "Godiva Irish Coffee. Thought it might hit the spot."
LT: "Perfect end to the night, aside from you here."
(She winks and walks off.)
"I've been listening to you two, Impulse... Copycat through proxy Aaron Jones. Or is it Aaron Jones on the inner monologue of Copycat? Well, it's a twist. I'll go with it."
"It seems as if you took my words as a challenge, Impulse. Define me. Tell me where I fall in that scheme of wrestling archetypes. It wasn't a test, and it wasn't a challenge. Just someone who was interested in hearing the thoughts of the Intercontinental Champion."
"I understand, though. Wrestling has changed since even ten years ago, when I broke into the pro circuit. And even then, it hasn't been a forum for people to be too trusting and welcoming of honest opinions. Now, some would say it's even less so."
"I did find it somewhat surprising for you to criticize styles other than technical. I don't know if you really meant it, because I'm sure you know of aerial artists and brawlers who are legends of this industry. I don't believe you're devoid of wrestling history, or have gaps for anyone outside the technical realm. That is sheer ignorance, and you don't strike me as the type. Or maybe it's just that I don't think someone capable of capturing the EPW Intercontinental Champion would lack that kind of knowledge. Color me prepared."
"There's something to be said about the cult of wrestling, though. The cult and culture, how this world within a world of ours forms and changes. What people consider good and bad qualities within our realm. Say what you will, but I don't think there are too many careers where so many different personalities, value sets, and opinions come together."
"It makes wrestling the greatest, and it also makes it extremely volatile."
(He takes another sip of the drink, setting it down and propping a leg on a barstool rung.)
"There's an atmosphere of distrust, paranoia, and people form those invisible barriers around them. They want to ward away the tricks and the traps of others, who would try to prove them wrong and steal their thunder. Villainous folk. The type you want to smack around real good, except in wrestling they may smack back harder. So it's easier for a lot of the players to play it safe and keep within their bubble."
"Well, call me ignorant, foolish, or just plain bold, but I never liked it that way. I can't keep my big mouth shut. There's too much to say about the world, and wrestling is no exception. And believe me, I've paid heavy prices for what I've said and done in this industry. I don't stand before you a saint, either. But you either back down or you stand up, and I've never been comfortable backing down. Especially from a challenge."
"Why would either of you be any different? What would make me anything but interested in getting in the ring with both of you, in a high stakes Pay-Per-View match?"
"You two, on the other hand, seem to react a bit differently to my words. Yes, Impulse, I'm a wrestler. But what I said didn't just make you think of that. What came to your mind was the memory of a man you got in the ring with, and presumably put out of the industry. Not in an injured sense, but... what? Was he so embarrassed to lose to you that he couldn't stand the thought of entering the ring again? Did you emasculate him in the ring to such a point where he couldn't show himself again? Or beat the passion out of him?"
"I remember being in a few TEAM events, myself. You never know who you may draw. I could check the film, but what you said is enough. DC Stark is the thought I triggered."
"And what of you, Aaron Jones? You want to bring up ending the career of Sean Stevens. How he 'put himself' in 'a similar position' as I am now. Suspect as that all sounds, that is what I bring out of you."
"Injuries. The prospect of being taken out of the industry, presumably or decisively. Career-ending situation. This is what you have to share with me."
"I could take it as a credit to my ability and level, the place I've established for myself. I could take it as hollow threats from people who think they have me figured out, like that hasn't happened before. But I cannot deny the possibility of what you're saying exists. Wrestling can be unpredictable, and Copycat already injured me once since I came back."
"But I did come back. Copycat either didn't want to take me out; lacked the ability; or just plain couldn't find it in him to follow-through. Either way, I'm here and he had his chance to take me off guard. Now I'm alert, I'm even more ready to kick his ass, and I've taken his best shot before the match has begun. I know its capability."
"Impulse, while I appreciate the sentiments of how we operate as wrestlers, I don't think you're too smart for your own good. I think you can make criticisms about technical or 'pure' wrestlers, just as you did with other styles. Do you think we're really above any other style, in terms of our chances to succeed? Personally, I doubt it."
"Better yet, tell me this, if you can: imagine every wrestler knew the same moves-- every move in the book, even. Every style, with perfect execution. Do you think every match between them would be a draw?"
"Do you think, if we all are at an equal skill level, that we will have a draw?"
"I guarantee you, with all the confidence I do bring into Russian Roulette... I'm not heading in believing that I am any better or worse, in terms of wrestling skill, than either of you."
(He sits down on the stool.)
"Not even my actions, but just the possibility of my being aligned with Dan Ryan provoked Copycat to attack me from behind. To Litterbomb me off the apron, it just took the thought. Wrestling is a land that paranoia came in and harvested. And paranoia has since struck gold in many places, to deep levels."
"Anthology was a group of equals. It wasn't that any of us weren't pulling our weight, Aaron. It was that paranoia seeped into certain parts... and cracked the clear vision of those who believed. It was obvious even before I was forced out of EPW."
"There was a week or so after I was removed where I felt completely pissed off. But the world is too big to not find a new door when one closes. Or, hell, make a new entrance into somewhere. I wasn't going to linger around on the sidelines, where I wasn't wanted, when there were plenty of opportunities elsewhere. I let it go and moved onto something new and different."
"That wouldn't have happened earlier in my career. I would have been bitter and angry, and tried to force my way back in. Maybe buy tickets to a few shows and wreak havoc, who knows? But why try to get back in somewhere that you've been told you aren't wanted? I suppose there are some exceptions, but I didn't see any of them applying to my situation."
(He takes a drink of the Godiva Irish Coffee.)
"Then I get a call from Dan Ryan. He gives me an opportunity to come back and resume my EPW career, says I just have to referee the match. There were no clauses or conditions for my return, no requirement for bias to be present. If Dan Ryan really looked at that match, and where I'd gravitate my bias in favor of, who's to say it would be Anarky? A guy I've bloodied and been bloodied by? Someone whom I, while in Anthology, fought against? I don't see the lines drawn so clear as Mr. Jones, I guess."
"Or maybe Aaron and Copycat just never saw the paranoia coming, seeping in, and taking grip. You and I are not the same, Copycat. That's true. It isn't because we don't both look to the future of wrestling and want that future to be bright. It's not because I betrayed any cause."
"I hope neither of you are planning on waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of a mistake I make in this match. Because even if it may come, even if that door may open for you... who's to say the chances are that I won't have made you wait before I answer... waiting behind that door... ready to strike when you go to open it?"
"Hold-counterhold, right, Impulse?"
"If the door is locked, I won't be ringing a doorbell or knocking until someone opens up. I'll find a window, go down the chimney, crawl through the f*cking sewer if I needs a way badly enough. I will come prepared, you can count on that."
"Prepared to define the price of attacking me. Prepared to set the standard for the Intercontinental Championship."
"At Russian Roulette, my shot will be fully loaded, my opportunity three seconds long."
(He finishes the Godiva Irish Coffee, setting it down on the bar.)
"And that's all I'll need to end it."
FADE OUT.
User Poets
The Shadow Pope
- Joined
- Jan 6, 1995
- Messages
- 2,192
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 44
- Location
- Top of the Pile
- Website
- www.valeriansgarden.com
Just a Few Blocks.
"Interesting, Larry, that you'd be attached to BoKa. Good wings, sure, but if you want the best you need to check out Duffs Brooklyn during WingFest. It's nine months away, so you'd better get in line soon. Actually, your favorite spot is pretty close to one of mine: Three of Cups, on first. Go Thursday nights, you can have a good meal upstairs, then go to the bar downstairs. Alison makes amazing bloody marys and Ms. Jenncity is spinning the music after ten."
"But I digress."
Can you digress if you started with the digression?
"We could probably spend the next month comparing our favorite spots in the city, Larry, but what good will that do to the Empire's fans?"
Particularly due to the fact that we're headed to Boston for Russian Roulette. We're likely to be booed simply for our hometown.
"After all, they're expecting a wrestling match."
"I think you're jumping to some of your own conclusions, Larry, and I think you might be trying to define me."
Doesn't usually work.
"Critical of other styles? Not at all. My favorite opponent so far has been a young lady by the name of Karina Wolfenden, a suicidal aerialist and combustible firecracker. She knows a thousand ways to beat you, and they all work. The most influential wrestler that had a hand in my foundation and training was a brawler who was dubbed the King of Extreme more than a decade ago."
"No, my point was more direct. You challenged me to define you, to explain why you weren't going to win my championship. I can see how the wheels turned in your head the entire time: either I put you in a box that will inevitably miss a nonobvious but critical part of your strategy of attack and you've got me, or I do what nobody else in this sport has ever seemed capable of doing, and understand that each of us has a unique set of tools to put to canvas. After all, I can't think of another wrestler who would follow a single leg takedown with a bridge - back on the knee with a shooting star press."
That only happened once; while there's appropriate strategy and flow to what we do, I prefer to feel my way through a match and go where my instincts tell me is appropriate.
"However, by doing so, Larry, you defined me according to your own experience and prejudice, and by doing so, you missed my point completely."
DC Stark was a cautionary tale about assumptions, guarantees, and the perils of trying to get inside my head.
"You're a step ahead of Cat, however... you and I both have a clear view of what we're trying to accomplish: a shiny gold belt around the waist. I don't have any strong feelings one way or another toward either of you, you're doing your best to break us down logically and constructively, and Cat..."
"Well... Cat has an Aaron Jones in his eyes and all he can see is red."
"That sort of single minded purpose is going to lead to his undoing."
As opposed to either of our single minded purposes?
"Copycat's is self - destructive: Destroy Larry Tact. Tunnel vision like that has virtually no success rate in a triangle match. Cat's will end up sitting on his ass in the backyard with a Pitbull gnawing on his arm, wondering what just happened."
"Yours, Larry? Get inside the house."
At any cost, right?
"Down the chimney with a lead pipe. Through a window with a chair. Through the sewers with..."
...I should probably let that thought go, it leads to too many potential double entendres.
"Win at any cost, right, Larry? The old expression that all's fair in love and war, that nobody cares about the how, they just want to know the who. Everyone takes shortcuts, right?"
Wrong.
"If winning this match is akin to breaking into a house, trust me when I tell you it won't be nearly as easy as my apartment in Washington Heights. You'll find alarms on the windows, a gang of flushed baby crocodiles roaming the sewers, and Dick Van Dyke on the roof with about thirty of his buddies."
Chim chim-in-ey chim chim-in-ey, chim chim, cheree.
"Just as I don't like to define my opponents by a preconceived set of standards, I don't believe in being unprepared for anything."
"It's part of the job."
"Your house, however... has a front door."
And a chimney, and windows, and a series of pipes, and an entrance from the garage to the family room, I'm sure.
"All I need is that door. I'm going to walk through it, and there's nothing you'll be able to do to stop me when that moment comes."
"If the door is locked? I wait."
"And wait."
"Probably the only thing I can predict with any certainty for this match: if it comes to a trio of equally skilled athletes with the same plan for attack and defense, it won't go to a draw; because one or both of you will tire before me."
Stamina: the one area of what we do where I know nobody can hold a candle to me.
"So I can wait outside that door, Larry... for hours. And hours. Because even if you don't make a mistake? Even if that door remains locked from bell to bell... there will come a point where you'll have no choice but to open it yourself."
And when you've gotten to that point, no matter how prepared you are for me to be there, no matter how far away you saw me coming... I'm going to get through.
"You can prepare for any opponent, Larry... everyone has strengths and weaknesses and you work around them. Maybe you do have my number in this one, maybe you don't. Maybe Cat will surprise us both and have a game plan that doesn't involve you beating the crap out of his fists with your face."
"Maybe you'll get your three seconds to set the standard for my Championship."
"Then again?"
"Maybe not."
"Interesting, Larry, that you'd be attached to BoKa. Good wings, sure, but if you want the best you need to check out Duffs Brooklyn during WingFest. It's nine months away, so you'd better get in line soon. Actually, your favorite spot is pretty close to one of mine: Three of Cups, on first. Go Thursday nights, you can have a good meal upstairs, then go to the bar downstairs. Alison makes amazing bloody marys and Ms. Jenncity is spinning the music after ten."
"But I digress."
Can you digress if you started with the digression?
"We could probably spend the next month comparing our favorite spots in the city, Larry, but what good will that do to the Empire's fans?"
Particularly due to the fact that we're headed to Boston for Russian Roulette. We're likely to be booed simply for our hometown.
"After all, they're expecting a wrestling match."
"I think you're jumping to some of your own conclusions, Larry, and I think you might be trying to define me."
Doesn't usually work.
"Critical of other styles? Not at all. My favorite opponent so far has been a young lady by the name of Karina Wolfenden, a suicidal aerialist and combustible firecracker. She knows a thousand ways to beat you, and they all work. The most influential wrestler that had a hand in my foundation and training was a brawler who was dubbed the King of Extreme more than a decade ago."
"No, my point was more direct. You challenged me to define you, to explain why you weren't going to win my championship. I can see how the wheels turned in your head the entire time: either I put you in a box that will inevitably miss a nonobvious but critical part of your strategy of attack and you've got me, or I do what nobody else in this sport has ever seemed capable of doing, and understand that each of us has a unique set of tools to put to canvas. After all, I can't think of another wrestler who would follow a single leg takedown with a bridge - back on the knee with a shooting star press."
That only happened once; while there's appropriate strategy and flow to what we do, I prefer to feel my way through a match and go where my instincts tell me is appropriate.
"However, by doing so, Larry, you defined me according to your own experience and prejudice, and by doing so, you missed my point completely."
DC Stark was a cautionary tale about assumptions, guarantees, and the perils of trying to get inside my head.
"You're a step ahead of Cat, however... you and I both have a clear view of what we're trying to accomplish: a shiny gold belt around the waist. I don't have any strong feelings one way or another toward either of you, you're doing your best to break us down logically and constructively, and Cat..."
"Well... Cat has an Aaron Jones in his eyes and all he can see is red."
"That sort of single minded purpose is going to lead to his undoing."
As opposed to either of our single minded purposes?
"Copycat's is self - destructive: Destroy Larry Tact. Tunnel vision like that has virtually no success rate in a triangle match. Cat's will end up sitting on his ass in the backyard with a Pitbull gnawing on his arm, wondering what just happened."
"Yours, Larry? Get inside the house."
At any cost, right?
"Down the chimney with a lead pipe. Through a window with a chair. Through the sewers with..."
...I should probably let that thought go, it leads to too many potential double entendres.
"Win at any cost, right, Larry? The old expression that all's fair in love and war, that nobody cares about the how, they just want to know the who. Everyone takes shortcuts, right?"
Wrong.
"If winning this match is akin to breaking into a house, trust me when I tell you it won't be nearly as easy as my apartment in Washington Heights. You'll find alarms on the windows, a gang of flushed baby crocodiles roaming the sewers, and Dick Van Dyke on the roof with about thirty of his buddies."
Chim chim-in-ey chim chim-in-ey, chim chim, cheree.
"Just as I don't like to define my opponents by a preconceived set of standards, I don't believe in being unprepared for anything."
"It's part of the job."
"Your house, however... has a front door."
And a chimney, and windows, and a series of pipes, and an entrance from the garage to the family room, I'm sure.
"All I need is that door. I'm going to walk through it, and there's nothing you'll be able to do to stop me when that moment comes."
"If the door is locked? I wait."
"And wait."
"Probably the only thing I can predict with any certainty for this match: if it comes to a trio of equally skilled athletes with the same plan for attack and defense, it won't go to a draw; because one or both of you will tire before me."
Stamina: the one area of what we do where I know nobody can hold a candle to me.
"So I can wait outside that door, Larry... for hours. And hours. Because even if you don't make a mistake? Even if that door remains locked from bell to bell... there will come a point where you'll have no choice but to open it yourself."
And when you've gotten to that point, no matter how prepared you are for me to be there, no matter how far away you saw me coming... I'm going to get through.
"You can prepare for any opponent, Larry... everyone has strengths and weaknesses and you work around them. Maybe you do have my number in this one, maybe you don't. Maybe Cat will surprise us both and have a game plan that doesn't involve you beating the crap out of his fists with your face."
"Maybe you'll get your three seconds to set the standard for my Championship."
"Then again?"
"Maybe not."
GARTHIsTheLaw
League Member
Re: Just a Few Blocks.
<i>(We fade in on the garishly lit interior of a restaurant. The cheap-looking furniture and décor indicate that we’re probably at a greasy-spoon diner or a fast-food joint whose corporate office hasn’t deemed this location worthy of renovation for many years. Multiple tables and booths are visible, but none seems to be occupied; the darkness, streetlights and periodic car headlights visible through the windows suggest that it’s probably late at night)
(In the foreground, Aaron Jones sits on a booth bench, the camera presumably propped up on the back of the bench opposite him. To his left is a plate whose minimal remaining contents are impossible to make out. He looks even more tired than usual – dark circles under his eyes, jaw looking like it might hang open by itself were he to attempt to keep it shut for more than a few seconds. He looks into the camera)</i>
<b>Aaron Jones:</b> It would appear his opponents at Russian Roulette have a deep misunderstanding of his motives when it comes to this triple threat match.
I suppose I can’t blame them. Even I can’t be certain of his true intentions, and I’ve spent an enormous amount of time learning about his plans, his principles and his instinctive tendencies. It is hard to determine a man’s goals when he refuses to explain them to anyone, and even more so when they – to look over his last few matches and the lack of effort exerted there – do not seem to be consistent from day to day.
But after all the deep analysis of each other’s psyches that Larry Tact and Impulse have done over these last few days, I guess I’m a little disappointed they haven’t looked beyond the surface when it comes to him.
I’m sure their response will be the same principled stand of “Well, he doesn’t talk to us, so why should we talk to him?” that his opponents so enjoy taking, or at least a similar variation of it. So maybe it’s on me that they don’t understand. I am the one responsible for getting his messages across, and despite the limitations I’ve been facing in that area, I imagine I could have been a little bit clearer.
Let’s start with Impulse.
I totally get it, Impulse. To you, he is entirely single-minded. Right now, it appears he is focusing entirely on Larry Tact. And when you faced him a few months ago, at a time when he was focused on Anarky, he walked out of your match.
As you know, I can’t speak to his plans regarding Larry Tact. But I can speak in depth as to what his plans were when he was preparing to face Anarky. And I can tell you with certainty that he did not treat you as an afterthought, a distraction on the way to his final goal.
At that point, every opponent represented a crucial opportunity to him – the chance to learn more about this current generation of wrestlers that so sickens him, and to determine how that opponent might fit into his larger plans. You were no different. He saw someone who seemed to support the survival of this industry over his own personal ambitions – or at least on the same level as his own personal ambitions – but who was convinced there were ways to preserve this business without incorporating his brutal methods.
He mulled over the results of that match, and he stopped communicating with me before I learned his final opinion of you. But I can tell you this: The reason he did not attempt to destroy you was that he believed you were too valuable to destroy.
What exactly he believed your value was, I can’t say.
Know this, though. As much as his eyes may be fixed on Larry Tact, he never goes into a match with tunnel vision. Even if his intention is just to incapacitate you while he settles up with Tact, he knows how you operate and is going to have a detailed plan for effecting that incapacitation.
To appropriate your beaten-to-death house metaphor, that pit bull is going to have a stomach full of sleeping-pill-infused steak before it even lays eyes on him – while you sit feeling safe and secure, certain that Cujo there will stop any intruders before they get to you.
As for you, Larry…
<i>(He pinches the bridge of his nose out of either annoyance or tiredness, though most likely it’s a combination of both)</i>
<b>Jones:</b> You really haven’t figured out what it was that so devastated him about your appearance at Wrestleverse IV, have you?
At first, I thought you were just being coy, or maybe putting too much credence in the opinions of the EPW announce team that he thought you did a poor job of officiating. But it’s clear now that you have no idea why he felt wronged by your actions.
From your perspective, no sin was committed. You knew you intended to call the match down the middle, and if you went in and did just that, there would be no harm done, right?
But even if you committed no sin between the bells, you committed a cardinal sin, in his mind, the moment you stepped through the curtain.
Dan Ryan made it clear he was going to appoint a guest referee he thought would be sympathetic to his own aims. Dan Ryan said exactly that. Making his life hell was Dan Ryan’s stated mission, and Dan Ryan intended to bring in a guest referee to further that aim. Dan Ryan would not have asked you to referee the match if he did not think you fit that description.
And you accepted the mission. Even if you did not intend to call the match in Anarky’s favor, you decided to support the man who unjustly fired you at a time when that man was waging a war against your only supporter when you were fired.
You were his most poignant evidence that there were others in this business who truly placed preserving the future over short-term personal gain. And you stood up to be counted with a man who wholeheartedly supports those individuals for whom personal gain trumps all.
He believed in you, Larry. And you betrayed him.
Now, you caution that this time, you’re ready for him. Now, you caution that he should not expect you to make any mistakes. But you made the biggest mistake you could make when you betrayed him.
And if he goes into Russian Roulette focused and prepared to exact revenge, there is no preparation you can make that will leave you ready for the suffering he will inflict.
<i>(Staring daggers into the camera, Jones quickly reaches over and switches it off, abruptly cutting to black)</i>
<i>(A few seconds later, another image comes onscreen. In it, we see Copycat get out of the car we saw him entering last time outside a door; there are no identifying features on or around it to indicate where it is. Copycat stops briefly to glance at the camera, then turns and heads through the door. A moment later, we fade to black)</i>
<i>(We fade in on the garishly lit interior of a restaurant. The cheap-looking furniture and décor indicate that we’re probably at a greasy-spoon diner or a fast-food joint whose corporate office hasn’t deemed this location worthy of renovation for many years. Multiple tables and booths are visible, but none seems to be occupied; the darkness, streetlights and periodic car headlights visible through the windows suggest that it’s probably late at night)
(In the foreground, Aaron Jones sits on a booth bench, the camera presumably propped up on the back of the bench opposite him. To his left is a plate whose minimal remaining contents are impossible to make out. He looks even more tired than usual – dark circles under his eyes, jaw looking like it might hang open by itself were he to attempt to keep it shut for more than a few seconds. He looks into the camera)</i>
<b>Aaron Jones:</b> It would appear his opponents at Russian Roulette have a deep misunderstanding of his motives when it comes to this triple threat match.
I suppose I can’t blame them. Even I can’t be certain of his true intentions, and I’ve spent an enormous amount of time learning about his plans, his principles and his instinctive tendencies. It is hard to determine a man’s goals when he refuses to explain them to anyone, and even more so when they – to look over his last few matches and the lack of effort exerted there – do not seem to be consistent from day to day.
But after all the deep analysis of each other’s psyches that Larry Tact and Impulse have done over these last few days, I guess I’m a little disappointed they haven’t looked beyond the surface when it comes to him.
I’m sure their response will be the same principled stand of “Well, he doesn’t talk to us, so why should we talk to him?” that his opponents so enjoy taking, or at least a similar variation of it. So maybe it’s on me that they don’t understand. I am the one responsible for getting his messages across, and despite the limitations I’ve been facing in that area, I imagine I could have been a little bit clearer.
Let’s start with Impulse.
I totally get it, Impulse. To you, he is entirely single-minded. Right now, it appears he is focusing entirely on Larry Tact. And when you faced him a few months ago, at a time when he was focused on Anarky, he walked out of your match.
As you know, I can’t speak to his plans regarding Larry Tact. But I can speak in depth as to what his plans were when he was preparing to face Anarky. And I can tell you with certainty that he did not treat you as an afterthought, a distraction on the way to his final goal.
At that point, every opponent represented a crucial opportunity to him – the chance to learn more about this current generation of wrestlers that so sickens him, and to determine how that opponent might fit into his larger plans. You were no different. He saw someone who seemed to support the survival of this industry over his own personal ambitions – or at least on the same level as his own personal ambitions – but who was convinced there were ways to preserve this business without incorporating his brutal methods.
He mulled over the results of that match, and he stopped communicating with me before I learned his final opinion of you. But I can tell you this: The reason he did not attempt to destroy you was that he believed you were too valuable to destroy.
What exactly he believed your value was, I can’t say.
Know this, though. As much as his eyes may be fixed on Larry Tact, he never goes into a match with tunnel vision. Even if his intention is just to incapacitate you while he settles up with Tact, he knows how you operate and is going to have a detailed plan for effecting that incapacitation.
To appropriate your beaten-to-death house metaphor, that pit bull is going to have a stomach full of sleeping-pill-infused steak before it even lays eyes on him – while you sit feeling safe and secure, certain that Cujo there will stop any intruders before they get to you.
As for you, Larry…
<i>(He pinches the bridge of his nose out of either annoyance or tiredness, though most likely it’s a combination of both)</i>
<b>Jones:</b> You really haven’t figured out what it was that so devastated him about your appearance at Wrestleverse IV, have you?
At first, I thought you were just being coy, or maybe putting too much credence in the opinions of the EPW announce team that he thought you did a poor job of officiating. But it’s clear now that you have no idea why he felt wronged by your actions.
From your perspective, no sin was committed. You knew you intended to call the match down the middle, and if you went in and did just that, there would be no harm done, right?
But even if you committed no sin between the bells, you committed a cardinal sin, in his mind, the moment you stepped through the curtain.
Dan Ryan made it clear he was going to appoint a guest referee he thought would be sympathetic to his own aims. Dan Ryan said exactly that. Making his life hell was Dan Ryan’s stated mission, and Dan Ryan intended to bring in a guest referee to further that aim. Dan Ryan would not have asked you to referee the match if he did not think you fit that description.
And you accepted the mission. Even if you did not intend to call the match in Anarky’s favor, you decided to support the man who unjustly fired you at a time when that man was waging a war against your only supporter when you were fired.
You were his most poignant evidence that there were others in this business who truly placed preserving the future over short-term personal gain. And you stood up to be counted with a man who wholeheartedly supports those individuals for whom personal gain trumps all.
He believed in you, Larry. And you betrayed him.
Now, you caution that this time, you’re ready for him. Now, you caution that he should not expect you to make any mistakes. But you made the biggest mistake you could make when you betrayed him.
And if he goes into Russian Roulette focused and prepared to exact revenge, there is no preparation you can make that will leave you ready for the suffering he will inflict.
<i>(Staring daggers into the camera, Jones quickly reaches over and switches it off, abruptly cutting to black)</i>
<i>(A few seconds later, another image comes onscreen. In it, we see Copycat get out of the car we saw him entering last time outside a door; there are no identifying features on or around it to indicate where it is. Copycat stops briefly to glance at the camera, then turns and heads through the door. A moment later, we fade to black)</i>
User Poets
The Shadow Pope
- Joined
- Jan 6, 1995
- Messages
- 2,192
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 44
- Location
- Top of the Pile
- Website
- www.valeriansgarden.com
Perspective
"Here's the thing, Aaron."
"I actually don't think Cat is single minded. I think he's focused more on hurting Larry Tact than he is winning this match of the Intercontinental Title, but other than that?"
"He's distracted."
"He's lost his focus."
"His message has become diluted over the fact that he has nothing to say."
I'm serious, Aaron. Have you actually thought about it? Really thought about it?
"You speak as if Copycat was the end all, be all of professional wrestling. As if he's the single greatest force in the industry today."
I know you think that, but have you really thought about it?
"The facts are pretty plain, Aaron: the last time Copycat has his hand raised was nearly a year ago."
"I can't speak for Larry Tact, but I can speak for myself. The reason I've been downplaying Copycat's involvement in this match is because it;s clear to me that he's lost his own way."
"Also, Aaron?"
"Copycat wasn't feeling me out at Aggression 58, only to decide that I wasn't to be destroyed at that moment."
"I was feeling HIM out. I wanted to know what the guy who was potentially the next Empire World Champion was all about. I could've kept it up all day and taken him when I wanted him."
"Don't mistake for strength and mercy... the ract that Cat decided that he couldn't handle me."
FADE
"Here's the thing, Aaron."
"I actually don't think Cat is single minded. I think he's focused more on hurting Larry Tact than he is winning this match of the Intercontinental Title, but other than that?"
"He's distracted."
"He's lost his focus."
"His message has become diluted over the fact that he has nothing to say."
I'm serious, Aaron. Have you actually thought about it? Really thought about it?
"You speak as if Copycat was the end all, be all of professional wrestling. As if he's the single greatest force in the industry today."
I know you think that, but have you really thought about it?
"The facts are pretty plain, Aaron: the last time Copycat has his hand raised was nearly a year ago."
"I can't speak for Larry Tact, but I can speak for myself. The reason I've been downplaying Copycat's involvement in this match is because it;s clear to me that he's lost his own way."
"Also, Aaron?"
"Copycat wasn't feeling me out at Aggression 58, only to decide that I wasn't to be destroyed at that moment."
"I was feeling HIM out. I wanted to know what the guy who was potentially the next Empire World Champion was all about. I could've kept it up all day and taken him when I wanted him."
"Don't mistake for strength and mercy... the ract that Cat decided that he couldn't handle me."
FADE
Starbreaker
Member
Surgery.
FADE IN.
(The screen fills with the living room of Larry Tact's lavish penthouse Manhattan suite. The camera is set on a surface, unmoving. It is level with Tact, who sits wearing deep-blue loose-fitting jeans and a black polo shirt. The camera focuses on the neutral-green-colored plush sofa he sits on, and little in the periphery other than the wall the sofa is set against. In the background, a recording of Gustav Mahler's "Symphony No. 5" plays.)
LARRY TACT: "No cameraman this time. I felt like going it solo tonight. I think the scene may have been distracting you both from the very simple and clear message I have been sending. Let me set the record straight, right now."
"First of all, I may take some risks, but I wouldn't be caught dead owning a house at this time. The banks are messed up enough, and I've already been screwed out of millions of dollars once in my lifetime. I don't need to go through it again."
"In other words, Impulse, I don't intend to get into a house 'at any cost'-- if you mean cheating or using unsavory means to take your title. I'm not sure what it is about you and not hearing what I say, as I say it. Perhaps Copycat isn't the only one who has paranoia issues around here."
"There was no lead pipe, with a chair, or any other object in my hands in my metaphor. I don't need to play that game with you, Impulse. Remember what you said about shortcuts, not too long ago? It was good to hear you say that, because I won't be needing shortcuts. I'm coming with what I was born with, Impulse. You are far from the only one in the world, much less the only wrestler in the world, who can win a match with their natural talent."
"At a different time, I may have been disappointed that you thought I would trend towards the dastardly... but the truth is, I don't mind whether you do or don't; it won't change my plans. I've said all along, I have no reason to disrespect you, Impulse, but this isn't a friendship contest. In the end, I am in this match to walk out a winner. There's no personal stake between us, other than one of us three will walk out with what is currently in your possession-- the EPW Intercontinental Championship. All that we have to say now is just a precursor, a juicy appetizer, for the match that will see who gets to put the punctuation at the end."
"I have to say, though, you sound so convinced talking about how I 'challenged' you to define me. Tell me, Impulse, when was it that I challenged you? Was it in the tone of my voice, or that look in my great, big eyes? Did it just scream, "CHALLENGE TO IMPULSE!" when you took a good look."
(He chuckles.)
"I think it would be more accurate to say you looked a little too deep, actually."
"See, the thing about 'challenging' people is that it's actually a form of request. Some would call it strong-arming, or forceful, but a challenge is something you can turn down. A challenge was what you offered Dan Ryan to take up on in his office, when you suggested the triple threat match."
"I wasn't challenging you, Randall. I was TELLING YOU to define me."
"And you seem reluctant to comply. Pity. What's stopping you?"
"Let me get this straight. All this time, you've been telling the world how I'm trying to rationalize, and break down the opposition. In reality, you and your overanalyzing are trying to examine all the words that come out of my mouth. You can't help yourself, you need to find some hidden, alternative meaning to what I say. And, when you can't, you tack on some things that I never said, to make it seem suspicious or devious."
"Again, I don't mind so much. I've said and done things in this industry that most would consider unsavory. But this time, you're doing it to yourself. Just like Copycat's actions will bring down the pain he has coming to him, you are only helping my cause."
"Remember, I told you I'd find a way in. And if you want to wait, I can wait. I'm not the one with a title at stake, I'm just the challenger. And at this rate, I won't need to find another way in. It looks like you may just open the door of opportunity for me to take your gold."
"But hey, in that case, maybe you can say I didn't win so much as you lost..."
"Why don't you check your code and let us know if that's allowed?"
(He claps his hands together and holds them close to his chin.)
"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron Jones! Don't be sad, AJ. I hear your gasps for attention; see you suffocating over there in a corner, lonely and wanting a hug."
"Don't worry, I have something to ask you, too, Aaron. Do you really want people to take YOU seriously?"
"Answer the question."
"Because I don't know that you do. I mean, really do want that. 'Your thoughts betray you.'"
(He smirks.)
"Here's the thing with you. Maybe you do want us to take you seriously. But you can't even assure us what you say are the actual thoughts of Copycat. You can't make that statement with assurance."
"You really do remind me of a lamb for the slaughter, Aaron. Someone standing on the front lines, saying Copycat hasn't spoken to you. You haven't heard his thoughts after a certain point. You're giving us every reason to believe Copycat is distracted."
"So then, the simple question is: what is Copycat doing?"
"I have no doubt Copycat isn't sitting back and waiting for this match. But he isn't just preparing physically, either. He's called the "Smartest Player In the Game" for a reason, I know that is not just bravado and hype surrounding him."
"Impulse may be fooled, but I don't buy the distracted bit. In fact, I'm more likely to believe Aaron Jones has always been the distraction, for weeks, maybe months. Copycat, meanwhile, is free to move around, scheming away."
"Is it any coincidence he has dropped off the radar as it concerns Anarky? You know, the EPW World Heavyweight Champion. The thing Copycat was a second away, in some cases less, from claiming."
"And Aaron, to set YOU straight... I said from the start what I felt about Copycat. I'm not going to go back-and-forth rehashing with you about whether or not my actions passed yours or Copycat's judgment. so what if it doesn't? What are you going to do about it, other than bore me to death telling me over-and-over about how I betrayed Copycat? The reality is, you aren't going to do a damn thing about it, because it's over."
"Copycat tried to do something before, but it backfired. Instead of keeping me out, he woke me up."
"While I was out after Aggression 61, I realized that I had been falling back into a pattern. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of by Copycat, Litterbombed to the floor, much like I went along with Anthology when it was clear that things were diverting away from our original goals. I could have stepped in and taken more charge then. Instead, I tried to maintain the peace even as I saw the water filling the ship."
"No longer, though. I am determined to prove that I won't allow myself to be used and abused for the sake of keeping things stable. Instead, I'm going to keep the peace by solving the problem. And Copycat has been a serious problem in Empire Pro Wrestling. In that ring, I'm going to solve him."
"The reality is also that the only people who have complained about my appearance at Wrestleverse were Aaron Jones and, by extension, Copycat. In other words, no one who affects my status here. So you would be wise to do two things, Aaron. First, STFU about Wrestleverse, it's done. And second, make sure Copycat is ready to let his wrestling do the talking at Russian Roulette. Because that's the only salvation he will have left to cling to. And I'm going to enjoy taking that away, too."
(He shrugs.)
"There's little point in talking to you, though, Aaron. Not because you're a mouthpiece, that's all well and good. But you don't get it. You don't understand Larry Tact... and, really, you don't understand Copycat."
"I've heard a lot of people throw around words like coward, fraud, and pathetic, lately. I probably wouldn't be wrong describing Copycat attacking me from behind with similar words. I won't, though."
"I'm not going to throw out petty insults, and threaten that Copycat will face, 'my most vicious wrath' at Russian Roulette. Sorry, Aaron, but I'm not lowering myself to that place. I've heard those lines so many times that it is just too hollow. Go back to Monkey Island, maybe they still work there."
"Copycat knows full well that he doesn't need to tell me a damn thing. The Litterbomb at Aggression did all the talking for him. I understand Copycat will show up at Russian Roulette with a purpose-- at least part of that purpose will be focused directly on me."
"So Aaron Jones, your bi***ing and moaning about how people are looking over Copycat is a clear sign of how very little you know. To be honest, everything you've learned from Copycat is likely only what Copycat wanted you to learn. In other words, you've been allowed to lick at the tip of the iceberg that is Copycat's knowledge of this industry. Enough to pump you up full, though, so you could do all the talking for Copycat these past few months."
"And likewise, I still believe that, somewhere in there, Copycat understands me. He knows I'm not neglecting him. I never had to say two words to Copycat before this match, and he would have gotten it. Because he knows exactly what that Litterbomb did. He knows he's now a marked man, and I'm going to make him pay. No cheap insults or empty threats needed. That is just the reality of the situation."
"What you seem to misunderstand, Aaron, and even Impulse, is... we are both confident veterans of the ring. Wrestling has always been our passion. Between those ropes, our blood runs feverishly and like nowhere else. And no matter what anyone says now, no one is going to back down."
"It's not about talking, or posturing, or threatening. It's going to be brutal, unbridled aggression. The three of us will unload on each other with physical blows and mental moves, countermoves. And at some point, there will be a turning point. Because this isn't just a match where there will be only one winner. With the way the three of us are, it's a match where only one will be left... standing.."
(He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees.)
"And Impulse, maybe you need to reevaluate who you THINK you're talking to."
"Because sometimes it doesn't sound like you're talking so much to your opponents, as it is some projection of yourself. I won't go psychoanalyzing, not my point. Just know we aren't students back at your old wrestling school, preparing to try to give each other lessons."
"You are in the middle of something, but you aren't the third wheel here."
"You have something that makes you relevant, regardless of whether you deserve it or not. I don't care if you do or don't, either. You have the title, hold the strap, therefore you are the Intercontinental Champion. After Russian Roulette, we'll see if you still deserve it."
"And let's clear the air on this, too: I never said I was NOT going to define you, Randall. In fact, I said out of the gate that I had watched your matches in the Empire. You make it sound like that would be a bad thing. I don't see it; don't understand why you shy away from my open invitation to do the same. Are you not human? Do you not have human thoughts and parameters? Is that really what you think is best?"
"I will admit, this isn't as much about defining you, Randall, or Impulse. What I'm really defining is the current standard of the EPW Intercontinental Championship."
"I have to, I'm a challenger for that title. And whether you want to hear it or not, Impulse, there is a way to defeat you... that is, by surpassing the current standard."
"That is how you dethrone a Champion."
"Beating a Champion for their title is like surgery-- an amputation. It's a delicate procedure, to separate a Champion from the title they hold. And they will never believe it until it's over with, after the shock passes and the reality sets in. What they once had, is no longer there. It's no longer theirs. It was forcibly removed."
"And like many surgeries, our match at Russian Roulette is now inevitable. It must happen, and my purpose is to meet the opposition, and claim that title for my own."
"The fact Impulse won't let it happen without giving his last... the fact Copycat and I will be out for each other's blood... the fact that I will have plenty to drive me over the top, and little to lose...."
"These are all reasons I'll only be party to one theft at Russian Roulette, along with Impulse and Copycat..."
"Stealing the show."
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
(The screen fills with the living room of Larry Tact's lavish penthouse Manhattan suite. The camera is set on a surface, unmoving. It is level with Tact, who sits wearing deep-blue loose-fitting jeans and a black polo shirt. The camera focuses on the neutral-green-colored plush sofa he sits on, and little in the periphery other than the wall the sofa is set against. In the background, a recording of Gustav Mahler's "Symphony No. 5" plays.)
LARRY TACT: "No cameraman this time. I felt like going it solo tonight. I think the scene may have been distracting you both from the very simple and clear message I have been sending. Let me set the record straight, right now."
"First of all, I may take some risks, but I wouldn't be caught dead owning a house at this time. The banks are messed up enough, and I've already been screwed out of millions of dollars once in my lifetime. I don't need to go through it again."
"In other words, Impulse, I don't intend to get into a house 'at any cost'-- if you mean cheating or using unsavory means to take your title. I'm not sure what it is about you and not hearing what I say, as I say it. Perhaps Copycat isn't the only one who has paranoia issues around here."
"There was no lead pipe, with a chair, or any other object in my hands in my metaphor. I don't need to play that game with you, Impulse. Remember what you said about shortcuts, not too long ago? It was good to hear you say that, because I won't be needing shortcuts. I'm coming with what I was born with, Impulse. You are far from the only one in the world, much less the only wrestler in the world, who can win a match with their natural talent."
"At a different time, I may have been disappointed that you thought I would trend towards the dastardly... but the truth is, I don't mind whether you do or don't; it won't change my plans. I've said all along, I have no reason to disrespect you, Impulse, but this isn't a friendship contest. In the end, I am in this match to walk out a winner. There's no personal stake between us, other than one of us three will walk out with what is currently in your possession-- the EPW Intercontinental Championship. All that we have to say now is just a precursor, a juicy appetizer, for the match that will see who gets to put the punctuation at the end."
"I have to say, though, you sound so convinced talking about how I 'challenged' you to define me. Tell me, Impulse, when was it that I challenged you? Was it in the tone of my voice, or that look in my great, big eyes? Did it just scream, "CHALLENGE TO IMPULSE!" when you took a good look."
(He chuckles.)
"I think it would be more accurate to say you looked a little too deep, actually."
"See, the thing about 'challenging' people is that it's actually a form of request. Some would call it strong-arming, or forceful, but a challenge is something you can turn down. A challenge was what you offered Dan Ryan to take up on in his office, when you suggested the triple threat match."
"I wasn't challenging you, Randall. I was TELLING YOU to define me."
"And you seem reluctant to comply. Pity. What's stopping you?"
"Let me get this straight. All this time, you've been telling the world how I'm trying to rationalize, and break down the opposition. In reality, you and your overanalyzing are trying to examine all the words that come out of my mouth. You can't help yourself, you need to find some hidden, alternative meaning to what I say. And, when you can't, you tack on some things that I never said, to make it seem suspicious or devious."
"Again, I don't mind so much. I've said and done things in this industry that most would consider unsavory. But this time, you're doing it to yourself. Just like Copycat's actions will bring down the pain he has coming to him, you are only helping my cause."
"Remember, I told you I'd find a way in. And if you want to wait, I can wait. I'm not the one with a title at stake, I'm just the challenger. And at this rate, I won't need to find another way in. It looks like you may just open the door of opportunity for me to take your gold."
"But hey, in that case, maybe you can say I didn't win so much as you lost..."
"Why don't you check your code and let us know if that's allowed?"
(He claps his hands together and holds them close to his chin.)
"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron Jones! Don't be sad, AJ. I hear your gasps for attention; see you suffocating over there in a corner, lonely and wanting a hug."
"Don't worry, I have something to ask you, too, Aaron. Do you really want people to take YOU seriously?"
"Answer the question."
"Because I don't know that you do. I mean, really do want that. 'Your thoughts betray you.'"
(He smirks.)
"Here's the thing with you. Maybe you do want us to take you seriously. But you can't even assure us what you say are the actual thoughts of Copycat. You can't make that statement with assurance."
"You really do remind me of a lamb for the slaughter, Aaron. Someone standing on the front lines, saying Copycat hasn't spoken to you. You haven't heard his thoughts after a certain point. You're giving us every reason to believe Copycat is distracted."
"So then, the simple question is: what is Copycat doing?"
"I have no doubt Copycat isn't sitting back and waiting for this match. But he isn't just preparing physically, either. He's called the "Smartest Player In the Game" for a reason, I know that is not just bravado and hype surrounding him."
"Impulse may be fooled, but I don't buy the distracted bit. In fact, I'm more likely to believe Aaron Jones has always been the distraction, for weeks, maybe months. Copycat, meanwhile, is free to move around, scheming away."
"Is it any coincidence he has dropped off the radar as it concerns Anarky? You know, the EPW World Heavyweight Champion. The thing Copycat was a second away, in some cases less, from claiming."
"And Aaron, to set YOU straight... I said from the start what I felt about Copycat. I'm not going to go back-and-forth rehashing with you about whether or not my actions passed yours or Copycat's judgment. so what if it doesn't? What are you going to do about it, other than bore me to death telling me over-and-over about how I betrayed Copycat? The reality is, you aren't going to do a damn thing about it, because it's over."
"Copycat tried to do something before, but it backfired. Instead of keeping me out, he woke me up."
"While I was out after Aggression 61, I realized that I had been falling back into a pattern. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of by Copycat, Litterbombed to the floor, much like I went along with Anthology when it was clear that things were diverting away from our original goals. I could have stepped in and taken more charge then. Instead, I tried to maintain the peace even as I saw the water filling the ship."
"No longer, though. I am determined to prove that I won't allow myself to be used and abused for the sake of keeping things stable. Instead, I'm going to keep the peace by solving the problem. And Copycat has been a serious problem in Empire Pro Wrestling. In that ring, I'm going to solve him."
"The reality is also that the only people who have complained about my appearance at Wrestleverse were Aaron Jones and, by extension, Copycat. In other words, no one who affects my status here. So you would be wise to do two things, Aaron. First, STFU about Wrestleverse, it's done. And second, make sure Copycat is ready to let his wrestling do the talking at Russian Roulette. Because that's the only salvation he will have left to cling to. And I'm going to enjoy taking that away, too."
(He shrugs.)
"There's little point in talking to you, though, Aaron. Not because you're a mouthpiece, that's all well and good. But you don't get it. You don't understand Larry Tact... and, really, you don't understand Copycat."
"I've heard a lot of people throw around words like coward, fraud, and pathetic, lately. I probably wouldn't be wrong describing Copycat attacking me from behind with similar words. I won't, though."
"I'm not going to throw out petty insults, and threaten that Copycat will face, 'my most vicious wrath' at Russian Roulette. Sorry, Aaron, but I'm not lowering myself to that place. I've heard those lines so many times that it is just too hollow. Go back to Monkey Island, maybe they still work there."
"Copycat knows full well that he doesn't need to tell me a damn thing. The Litterbomb at Aggression did all the talking for him. I understand Copycat will show up at Russian Roulette with a purpose-- at least part of that purpose will be focused directly on me."
"So Aaron Jones, your bi***ing and moaning about how people are looking over Copycat is a clear sign of how very little you know. To be honest, everything you've learned from Copycat is likely only what Copycat wanted you to learn. In other words, you've been allowed to lick at the tip of the iceberg that is Copycat's knowledge of this industry. Enough to pump you up full, though, so you could do all the talking for Copycat these past few months."
"And likewise, I still believe that, somewhere in there, Copycat understands me. He knows I'm not neglecting him. I never had to say two words to Copycat before this match, and he would have gotten it. Because he knows exactly what that Litterbomb did. He knows he's now a marked man, and I'm going to make him pay. No cheap insults or empty threats needed. That is just the reality of the situation."
"What you seem to misunderstand, Aaron, and even Impulse, is... we are both confident veterans of the ring. Wrestling has always been our passion. Between those ropes, our blood runs feverishly and like nowhere else. And no matter what anyone says now, no one is going to back down."
"It's not about talking, or posturing, or threatening. It's going to be brutal, unbridled aggression. The three of us will unload on each other with physical blows and mental moves, countermoves. And at some point, there will be a turning point. Because this isn't just a match where there will be only one winner. With the way the three of us are, it's a match where only one will be left... standing.."
(He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees.)
"And Impulse, maybe you need to reevaluate who you THINK you're talking to."
"Because sometimes it doesn't sound like you're talking so much to your opponents, as it is some projection of yourself. I won't go psychoanalyzing, not my point. Just know we aren't students back at your old wrestling school, preparing to try to give each other lessons."
"You are in the middle of something, but you aren't the third wheel here."
"You have something that makes you relevant, regardless of whether you deserve it or not. I don't care if you do or don't, either. You have the title, hold the strap, therefore you are the Intercontinental Champion. After Russian Roulette, we'll see if you still deserve it."
"And let's clear the air on this, too: I never said I was NOT going to define you, Randall. In fact, I said out of the gate that I had watched your matches in the Empire. You make it sound like that would be a bad thing. I don't see it; don't understand why you shy away from my open invitation to do the same. Are you not human? Do you not have human thoughts and parameters? Is that really what you think is best?"
"I will admit, this isn't as much about defining you, Randall, or Impulse. What I'm really defining is the current standard of the EPW Intercontinental Championship."
"I have to, I'm a challenger for that title. And whether you want to hear it or not, Impulse, there is a way to defeat you... that is, by surpassing the current standard."
"That is how you dethrone a Champion."
"Beating a Champion for their title is like surgery-- an amputation. It's a delicate procedure, to separate a Champion from the title they hold. And they will never believe it until it's over with, after the shock passes and the reality sets in. What they once had, is no longer there. It's no longer theirs. It was forcibly removed."
"And like many surgeries, our match at Russian Roulette is now inevitable. It must happen, and my purpose is to meet the opposition, and claim that title for my own."
"The fact Impulse won't let it happen without giving his last... the fact Copycat and I will be out for each other's blood... the fact that I will have plenty to drive me over the top, and little to lose...."
"These are all reasons I'll only be party to one theft at Russian Roulette, along with Impulse and Copycat..."
"Stealing the show."
FADE OUT.
User Poets
The Shadow Pope
- Joined
- Jan 6, 1995
- Messages
- 2,192
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 44
- Location
- Top of the Pile
- Website
- www.valeriansgarden.com
Glass Houses
(FADEIN: on a copy of the Oxford English Dictionary.
Specifically, under section D.
Definition: 1. A statement conveying fundamental character.
And so we begin.)
"I was waiting, Larry."
"It's like I told you: patience is one of my virtues. You told me to define you, and I waited."
"And waited."
And waited.
"Reluctant to do so? Hardly. I didn't know enough about you to do so with any modicum of accuracy, so I chose to decline. Apparently there are wrestlers currently earning a living who would treat this as a character flaw."
"On the contrary, I once had an opponent who defined me before the match was even signed. He decided what his next opponent would be like: an egotistical, backstabbing prima donna who has no problem actively screwing over every other wrestler in his way. Not to get ahead, but just because it's fun."
One of the highlights of that moment was when I was accused of turfing him out of a job in the New Frontier... probably about ten years ago at this point. You know, when I was in high school.
"So we parry, and we spar, and we verbally mimic the dance we're going to take at Russian Roulette, Larry, and I waited."
"You tried to dictate the terms of our pre-match verbal tête-à-tête by playing the intellectual high ground with your housing analogy, only to completely deconstruct it at the first opportunity."
Static.
Audio.
LARRY TACT: "If the door is locked, I won't be ringing a doorbell or knocking until someone opens up. I'll find a window, go down the chimney, crawl through the f*cking sewer if I needs a way badly enough. I will come prepared, you can count on that."
Static.
Audio.
LARRY TACT: "In other words, Impulse, I don't intend to get into a house 'at any cost'-- if you mean cheating or using unsavory means to take your title. I'm not sure what it is about you and not hearing what I say, as I say it. Perhaps Copycat isn't the only one who has paranoia issues around here."
Static.
And we're back.
"Either we have different definition of what 'crawling though the bleedin' sewer' would entail, or you're doing some hasty backpedaling."
Say what you mean, Larry.
"So, a definition was in order?"
"You're a wrestler who wanted Opponent A, and you ended up with Opponent A and Opponent B, with a chance at strapping some gold around your waist. You want to beat Opponent A; you want to take Opponent B's Championship from him, and you have the chance to accomplish both goals with three well - placed seconds. You're willing to do anything to win, reluctant to think about taking a shortcut but your own words pointed you in the direction of not being above it."
"More to the point, while you might find it distasteful to bash me over the head with a chair to take my Championship, if that's what it'll take to do it, you'll do it."
"And you're an armchair psychologist who sees evasiveness while feeling out an opponent as a sure sign of paranoia, because of course, nobody in this business ever tells their opponent one thing only to do whatever the flip they want at the end of the day."
Because of course, you'd never do anything to undermine the prestige of my Championship by taking the standards you're talking about and dropping them in the sewer with the chair and the lead pipe that don't exist.
"Just like our esteemed boss would never turn on me in the middle of a tag team match against a man he's hated - and probably still hates - just to prove a point."
"If there's one thing I've learned in the past year, Larry, it's to be prepared for anything. And regardless of what you say you're going to do, what you think you're going to do, or what you're actually going to do..."
"Nothing you attempt at Russian Roulette will be able to surprise me."
FADE
(FADEIN: on a copy of the Oxford English Dictionary.
Specifically, under section D.
Definition: 1. A statement conveying fundamental character.
And so we begin.)
"I was waiting, Larry."
"It's like I told you: patience is one of my virtues. You told me to define you, and I waited."
"And waited."
And waited.
"Reluctant to do so? Hardly. I didn't know enough about you to do so with any modicum of accuracy, so I chose to decline. Apparently there are wrestlers currently earning a living who would treat this as a character flaw."
"On the contrary, I once had an opponent who defined me before the match was even signed. He decided what his next opponent would be like: an egotistical, backstabbing prima donna who has no problem actively screwing over every other wrestler in his way. Not to get ahead, but just because it's fun."
One of the highlights of that moment was when I was accused of turfing him out of a job in the New Frontier... probably about ten years ago at this point. You know, when I was in high school.
"So we parry, and we spar, and we verbally mimic the dance we're going to take at Russian Roulette, Larry, and I waited."
"You tried to dictate the terms of our pre-match verbal tête-à-tête by playing the intellectual high ground with your housing analogy, only to completely deconstruct it at the first opportunity."
Static.
Audio.
LARRY TACT: "If the door is locked, I won't be ringing a doorbell or knocking until someone opens up. I'll find a window, go down the chimney, crawl through the f*cking sewer if I needs a way badly enough. I will come prepared, you can count on that."
Static.
Audio.
LARRY TACT: "In other words, Impulse, I don't intend to get into a house 'at any cost'-- if you mean cheating or using unsavory means to take your title. I'm not sure what it is about you and not hearing what I say, as I say it. Perhaps Copycat isn't the only one who has paranoia issues around here."
Static.
And we're back.
"Either we have different definition of what 'crawling though the bleedin' sewer' would entail, or you're doing some hasty backpedaling."
Say what you mean, Larry.
"So, a definition was in order?"
"You're a wrestler who wanted Opponent A, and you ended up with Opponent A and Opponent B, with a chance at strapping some gold around your waist. You want to beat Opponent A; you want to take Opponent B's Championship from him, and you have the chance to accomplish both goals with three well - placed seconds. You're willing to do anything to win, reluctant to think about taking a shortcut but your own words pointed you in the direction of not being above it."
"More to the point, while you might find it distasteful to bash me over the head with a chair to take my Championship, if that's what it'll take to do it, you'll do it."
"And you're an armchair psychologist who sees evasiveness while feeling out an opponent as a sure sign of paranoia, because of course, nobody in this business ever tells their opponent one thing only to do whatever the flip they want at the end of the day."
Because of course, you'd never do anything to undermine the prestige of my Championship by taking the standards you're talking about and dropping them in the sewer with the chair and the lead pipe that don't exist.
"Just like our esteemed boss would never turn on me in the middle of a tag team match against a man he's hated - and probably still hates - just to prove a point."
"If there's one thing I've learned in the past year, Larry, it's to be prepared for anything. And regardless of what you say you're going to do, what you think you're going to do, or what you're actually going to do..."
"Nothing you attempt at Russian Roulette will be able to surprise me."
FADE
GARTHIsTheLaw
League Member
Re: Glass Houses
<i>(We fade in on the interior of a car in motion. It’s dark outside, and all the evidence we have to indicate it’s Aaron Jones behind the wheel are his voice and silhouette. The camera looks to be positioned on the passenger side of the dashboard. We can’t see the look on Jones’ face because of the poor lighting, but as he draws his hand back from switching on the camera, he pauses to rub his eyes before speaking – an indication that the tiredness we’ve seen over the last few videos has yet to abate)</i>
<b>Aaron Jones:</b> I remember the days when I was just a starstruck wrestling fan, largely unconcerned with the direction in which the business was going.
To be fair, it wasn’t that long ago.
I’ll be honest: The circles he ran in weren’t the ones I paid the closest attention to. It’s understandable, I think; I was going to be entertained by pretty much anything that was put in front of me, and what was put in front of me was usually whoever my dad was working for at the time.
But I remember seeing a few of his matches and promos in passing back in the early to mid-2000s. And I remember one of the things he was known for back in those days was, for lack of a better word, psychoanalyzing his opponents. I wasn’t at a point in my life when I could appreciate that sort of thing, but I remember hearing people talk about how good at it he was.
I’m not going to claim he invented it or anything. This industry has never had a shortage of analytical minds. But a big part of it has always been tied to in-ring strategy.
With him, it was different. It wasn’t just about figuring out his opponent’s frame of mind and going from there; it was about getting his opponent in a specific frame of mind, whatever would be most conducive to his winning the match.
Obviously, his strategies have changed somewhat since he came to EPW and saw how the industry had degenerated in the years he had been gone. He decided that drastic measures needed to be taken to save it. The idea was still to get his opponents in a certain frame of mind, but the end goal was always the preservation of this business. Everything else became unimportant – his legacy, his bank account, his other pursuits, even the conventional wrestling goals of victories and championships.
I know that sounds like a cop out. To someone like Impulse, who is entirely focused on winning and pure competition, any other goals are just distractions.
But I’m not here to talk about win-loss records, even if that might be the direction in which Impulse wants to drag the conversation.
I see what you’re doing, Impulse. You might try to couch it in concern, or claim it’s just the natural result of you putting on your “brilliant wrestling analyst” hat. But what you’re really trying to do is shake my faith. My faith in him, and in the sheer important of his ultimate goal.
It won’t work.
This is what happens when everybody tries to become a psychoanalyst. You notice a correlation between an opponent’s mindset and how easy he is to beat, and you start believing that just because you can see that relationship, you can manipulate it at will.
You and Larry Tact have been going back and forth, constructing ever more elaborate metaphors for each other’s in-ring styles and approaches to competition, and it’s amounted to nothing but – I’m guessing – a lot of smug, self-important smirks after the cameras stop rolling.
So what makes you think you can change my mind by pointing out to me a bunch of things I already know?
I realize that everybody in the EPW locker room is going around spreading the lie that I’ve been brainwashed, but do you think I’ve somehow missed the fact that you’ve won more matches than he has lately? Or the fact that his apparent focus has taken a hit as a result of Larry Tact’s betrayal?
Following him was never about glory, Impulse. It was about saving this business from the destructive tendencies of this current, self-absorbed generation of competitors. Until I see or hear differently, I’m going to assume that is still his goal, even if he has not communicated it in recent weeks and months.
You think he’s lost his way, and I can see why you might. I’m uncertain about his state of mind myself. There’s no concrete proof, only circumstantial evidence, but I can understand how an objective observer might get the idea that he’s strayed from his ultimate goal, waylaid by his issues with Larry Tact.
I can understand it. But I don’t believe it.
Go ahead and make your judgments about me. But this is what faith is about – believing in the strength of things one cannot prove for certain.
I choose to believe that saving this business from its current generation is still his goal. I choose to believe he remains focused in his efforts. And I choose to believe that he will arrive at Russian Roulette with renewed strength – the strength to avenge the wrongs of Larry Tact, to prevent you from interfering with his plans and maybe even the strength to walk out the EPW Intercontinental Champion.
Your efforts to convince me otherwise will amount to nothing. Not until I see a different outcome with my own eyes will I envision a different scenario.
Don’t waste your time trying to change my mind, Impulse. And don’t waste too much of it constructing elaborate metaphors for your encounter with Larry Tact, either.
Focus your energies on walking out of Russian Roulette with your title – and health – intact.
<i>(Jones slowly reaches over to turn off the camera. The already dark image cuts to black)</i>
<i>(Seconds later, an entirely different image appears onscreen. It’s the same doorway we saw last time. After a few seconds of nothing, Copycat walks out of the door. In his hand is an unidentifiable bundle – a folder, maybe. He looks at the camera and continues walking for a second before we fade to black)</i>
<i>(We fade in on the interior of a car in motion. It’s dark outside, and all the evidence we have to indicate it’s Aaron Jones behind the wheel are his voice and silhouette. The camera looks to be positioned on the passenger side of the dashboard. We can’t see the look on Jones’ face because of the poor lighting, but as he draws his hand back from switching on the camera, he pauses to rub his eyes before speaking – an indication that the tiredness we’ve seen over the last few videos has yet to abate)</i>
<b>Aaron Jones:</b> I remember the days when I was just a starstruck wrestling fan, largely unconcerned with the direction in which the business was going.
To be fair, it wasn’t that long ago.
I’ll be honest: The circles he ran in weren’t the ones I paid the closest attention to. It’s understandable, I think; I was going to be entertained by pretty much anything that was put in front of me, and what was put in front of me was usually whoever my dad was working for at the time.
But I remember seeing a few of his matches and promos in passing back in the early to mid-2000s. And I remember one of the things he was known for back in those days was, for lack of a better word, psychoanalyzing his opponents. I wasn’t at a point in my life when I could appreciate that sort of thing, but I remember hearing people talk about how good at it he was.
I’m not going to claim he invented it or anything. This industry has never had a shortage of analytical minds. But a big part of it has always been tied to in-ring strategy.
With him, it was different. It wasn’t just about figuring out his opponent’s frame of mind and going from there; it was about getting his opponent in a specific frame of mind, whatever would be most conducive to his winning the match.
Obviously, his strategies have changed somewhat since he came to EPW and saw how the industry had degenerated in the years he had been gone. He decided that drastic measures needed to be taken to save it. The idea was still to get his opponents in a certain frame of mind, but the end goal was always the preservation of this business. Everything else became unimportant – his legacy, his bank account, his other pursuits, even the conventional wrestling goals of victories and championships.
I know that sounds like a cop out. To someone like Impulse, who is entirely focused on winning and pure competition, any other goals are just distractions.
But I’m not here to talk about win-loss records, even if that might be the direction in which Impulse wants to drag the conversation.
I see what you’re doing, Impulse. You might try to couch it in concern, or claim it’s just the natural result of you putting on your “brilliant wrestling analyst” hat. But what you’re really trying to do is shake my faith. My faith in him, and in the sheer important of his ultimate goal.
It won’t work.
This is what happens when everybody tries to become a psychoanalyst. You notice a correlation between an opponent’s mindset and how easy he is to beat, and you start believing that just because you can see that relationship, you can manipulate it at will.
You and Larry Tact have been going back and forth, constructing ever more elaborate metaphors for each other’s in-ring styles and approaches to competition, and it’s amounted to nothing but – I’m guessing – a lot of smug, self-important smirks after the cameras stop rolling.
So what makes you think you can change my mind by pointing out to me a bunch of things I already know?
I realize that everybody in the EPW locker room is going around spreading the lie that I’ve been brainwashed, but do you think I’ve somehow missed the fact that you’ve won more matches than he has lately? Or the fact that his apparent focus has taken a hit as a result of Larry Tact’s betrayal?
Following him was never about glory, Impulse. It was about saving this business from the destructive tendencies of this current, self-absorbed generation of competitors. Until I see or hear differently, I’m going to assume that is still his goal, even if he has not communicated it in recent weeks and months.
You think he’s lost his way, and I can see why you might. I’m uncertain about his state of mind myself. There’s no concrete proof, only circumstantial evidence, but I can understand how an objective observer might get the idea that he’s strayed from his ultimate goal, waylaid by his issues with Larry Tact.
I can understand it. But I don’t believe it.
Go ahead and make your judgments about me. But this is what faith is about – believing in the strength of things one cannot prove for certain.
I choose to believe that saving this business from its current generation is still his goal. I choose to believe he remains focused in his efforts. And I choose to believe that he will arrive at Russian Roulette with renewed strength – the strength to avenge the wrongs of Larry Tact, to prevent you from interfering with his plans and maybe even the strength to walk out the EPW Intercontinental Champion.
Your efforts to convince me otherwise will amount to nothing. Not until I see a different outcome with my own eyes will I envision a different scenario.
Don’t waste your time trying to change my mind, Impulse. And don’t waste too much of it constructing elaborate metaphors for your encounter with Larry Tact, either.
Focus your energies on walking out of Russian Roulette with your title – and health – intact.
<i>(Jones slowly reaches over to turn off the camera. The already dark image cuts to black)</i>
<i>(Seconds later, an entirely different image appears onscreen. It’s the same doorway we saw last time. After a few seconds of nothing, Copycat walks out of the door. In his hand is an unidentifiable bundle – a folder, maybe. He looks at the camera and continues walking for a second before we fade to black)</i>
Starbreaker
Member
Shout It Loud.
FADE IN.
(Inside a conference room of the Boston Sheraton. Seated at the table, in one of the padded chairs surrounding the table, is Larry Tact. He has on a green turtleneck sweater, the table cutting off our view below the waist, and his golden blonde hair is tied back. Behind him is a window with the blinds open, showing a nice view of the city lights at night. Tact has one hand flat on the table, the other turning an Ipswich Original Ale bottle, which he seems to contemplate.)
LARRY TACT: "Impulse actually went and pulled out the dictionary on us all."
"He couldn't find it in him to just explain his problem, his confusion, so he decided to let us stare at a word, as if that would be the grand gesture to compensate for the words he lacked."
"The dictionary, Impulse? It's certainly technical. It's also a move children use. Did it take you back to high school? To those schoolyard scuffles and backyard brawls?"
(He shifts an eye up at us.)
"I guarantee you, I hit harder than any high schooler. I'm the one who got rid of the bullies for people. And somehow, the dictionary never worked on them."
"I think you'll find that it doesn't have all the answers."
(He looks back down at the bottle, continuing to turn it evenly.)
"I don't have all the answers for you, either. I can't explain why you feel compelled to tell me things I never said. Do you want me to refute you, point-by-point, like a high school debate club?"
"Well, too bad."
"You took a metaphor and allowed your imagination to run wild with it. I gave a creative imagery of effort, and how it will take more than going through the motions in order to win. I was trying to show some respect to a Champion of the Empire."
"And wasn't it YOU who said something about how wrestlers get creative? I didn't bother to ask 'exactly' what you meant by that..."
"Instead of remembering your own words, though, you decided to stretch mine into a week-long diatribe. You took it upon yourself to assume that I MUST be getting at something deceitful, and anything I say is essentially planting seeds to do something to the contrary."
(He peers up again.)
"And while I have been talking about wrestling this entire week, and about how our match could be a show stealing bout-- just a hint, tainted matches aren't on too many classics lists for pure wrestling fans, like myself-- you've recalled a match with someone who you embarrassed and haven't heard from since. And some tantrum another wrestler threw when you were in high school."
"Weren't you the one who I'd heard was interested in honorable, traditional wrestling? I guess you take exception when someone else starts treading on that territory. Do you think I'm trying to 'turf you out,' Impulse?"
"Don't flatter yourself."
(He looks back down.)
"You started things off by taking a guess at what I was thinking. Then, when you were wrong, you continued to change your answer. All the while making me out to be the one doing it."
"Impulse, you can't have your cake and eat it, too. You want to let your imagination guess what your opponent is thinking? You want to claim who is being honest and who isn't? Fine, by all means."
"Just don't drag me down with you."
(He takes a drink of the beer, then sets it back down, and shrugs.)
"And if you want to think you're annoying or irritating me, much less anything more than that, go ahead. The fact is you're entitled to an opinion-- right, wrong, or outright ridiculous as it may be. You just can't tell me what mine is, and expect me not to correct you."
"Your metaphor-twisting falls in the 'outright ridiculous' column. 'Unless your definition of sewer is different than mine...' That's something I may not have heard yet, in wrestling. The funny thing is, we do differ."
"You hear that line and think I'm going to stoop to any means necessary."
"I just couldn't think up a different, compelling image for another pathway leading to a house. Maybe I should have said Basement, instead. Garage Door? Oh, that's a good one. Oh, well."
"But I don't blame you, really, for suspecting what I may be willing to do. It's just not for the same reasons as you draw the conclusion. I said I wasn't a saint, and I have certainly been involved in some less than honorable means in my career. And I don't have regrets, really. I have owned up to what I've done."
"Which brings me to a new point. Since I seem to be the one keeping things fresh and on the 'intellectual high ground,' here."
(He takes another drink, then sits the bottle back on its coaster and looks up.)
"When I came back, it wasn't just to continue on as I had been. If that was the case, then yes, I may have screwed Anarky or Copycat. Maybe I would have deserved the accusations of Aaron Jones. Maybe the EPW fans would have reacted to me differently at Aggression 60."
"But they didn't, because I didn't keep on that path."
"I came back with the intention of making a clean break from some of the things I'd been doing before. I felt like making more of an effort to limit the havoc, rather than allow attacks on those involved in, say, my matches. I didn't want to have to hear about unforeseen circumstances. I just wanted to get back to simply wrestling, and going from there."
"I saw Anarky being ganged up on, and it seemed like maybe someone could step in and balance the scales on his end. A few weeks later, I stood in Dan Ryan's office with you, and find out I'm going to wrestle someone who values simply wrestling. It seemed like just what I was looking for, which is why I said I was looking forward to wrestling you, Impulse."
"At first I thought you completely missed all of that, in favor of trying to stir up things I've been involved in before. Now? I just think you still have growing up to do."
"You have a great record in EPW? Good for you."
"You feel like I may not be giving you the truth, based on what other wrestlers have said or done? Tough sh*t. They have nothing to do with me."'
"Believe it or not, that means even Dan Ryan. I'm not sure what it is about me and Dan Ryan being somehow correlated. Aaron Jones felt the burning need to make a connection before between us. Now it's you taking your shot. You and Aaron have started to sound a bit too alike, for my taste."
"Dan Ryan turned on you to prove a point? Well, he and his tag team partner intentionally gave me and my tag partner a win just so they could beat down on us to their content. To prove a point. No one cared when it happened to me, Impulse, and I sucked it up and moved on. I won't go into metaphor again, but maybe you should brush it off. I doubt it'll be the last time someone wants to leave you high and dry."
"Regardless, I'll need to check-in with Dan about if we are supposed to be conspiring, or something? Because I never got that memo. At least then I won't have to keep giving the same boring answer."
"And by the way, Aaron... Lindsay Troy fired me, not Dan Ryan. Get your facts straight, and get some sleep."
(He turns the seat enough to look out the window, briefly, before turning back.)
"I have kept my nose clean since I returned, but part of me knew I'd be fighting an uphill battle. I know Anarky doesn't care much what anyone does, because he may do it right back to them, eventually. But I thought there would be some doubters of this approach I'm taking. Primarily, I considered the fans may be the largest contingent, but now I'm not so sure. It seems there are some wrestlers who don't understand what I say, and stumble their way to the reception I expected to receive. I guess we come to the same point, but I could do without the ignorance."
"And yet, here we are. Impulse, with Calico Rose as I understand it. Copycat, whenever he decides to show up, and Aaron Jones tagging along."
"But I, with my wrestling and my determination to play it clean, will walk alone."
"Copycat, we've tangled in the past and we've had our alliance. You know as well as I what the cost is for trying to take a piece of someone's livelihood away is. I'll be coming to take my share of retribution. So if your mission at Russian Roulette is to take me down and out, it's going to sustain a humbling blow, and need aborting."
"Impulse.... for all your wild imagination and accusations, I still respect what you represent. I will still be taking you seriously, and this match as seriously as any I have had. Because, despite whatever false flags you'd like to raise above my head, and whatever you think a sewer or a house means... at Russian Roulette, you still walk in the EPW Intercontinental Champion. That deserves respect, and warrants serious attention and focus."
"I'm sorry I wasn't the personality, or kind of character person, or image you were looking for. No, I didn't present you with the cookie-cutter lines, the 'Ra-Ra' speech, or play along to your expectations. I usually don't find those who can meet mine, though, either."
"But just as I define the current standard of the Champion I face, Impulse, I do not prepare to only meet that standard. I expect more, because I tend to bring out more in others. You may find out, yourself, at Russian Roulette."
"Unfortunately, it doesn't typically end well for others. Because while I bring out something more, I have this knack for breaking through that. I know I haven't trotted around my talk of stamina, endurance, and patience like you, this week. Believe me, I haven't lasted as long as I have in this business because I lack any of those general qualities, Impulse. Whether you realized it yet or not, there isn't much that's generic or average about me."
"And whether you know it or not, there won't be anything evasive or unclear about what I'm after, at Russian Roulette. When it's all coming at you, though, you won't need a dictionary to define where you're headed.... to define what you are experiencing...."
"I'll make it nice and easy to shout loud and clear, from you to the world...."
"A Tactful Surrender."
(He takes the beer and turns, facing the window entirely.)
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
(Inside a conference room of the Boston Sheraton. Seated at the table, in one of the padded chairs surrounding the table, is Larry Tact. He has on a green turtleneck sweater, the table cutting off our view below the waist, and his golden blonde hair is tied back. Behind him is a window with the blinds open, showing a nice view of the city lights at night. Tact has one hand flat on the table, the other turning an Ipswich Original Ale bottle, which he seems to contemplate.)
LARRY TACT: "Impulse actually went and pulled out the dictionary on us all."
"He couldn't find it in him to just explain his problem, his confusion, so he decided to let us stare at a word, as if that would be the grand gesture to compensate for the words he lacked."
"The dictionary, Impulse? It's certainly technical. It's also a move children use. Did it take you back to high school? To those schoolyard scuffles and backyard brawls?"
(He shifts an eye up at us.)
"I guarantee you, I hit harder than any high schooler. I'm the one who got rid of the bullies for people. And somehow, the dictionary never worked on them."
"I think you'll find that it doesn't have all the answers."
(He looks back down at the bottle, continuing to turn it evenly.)
"I don't have all the answers for you, either. I can't explain why you feel compelled to tell me things I never said. Do you want me to refute you, point-by-point, like a high school debate club?"
"Well, too bad."
"You took a metaphor and allowed your imagination to run wild with it. I gave a creative imagery of effort, and how it will take more than going through the motions in order to win. I was trying to show some respect to a Champion of the Empire."
"And wasn't it YOU who said something about how wrestlers get creative? I didn't bother to ask 'exactly' what you meant by that..."
"Instead of remembering your own words, though, you decided to stretch mine into a week-long diatribe. You took it upon yourself to assume that I MUST be getting at something deceitful, and anything I say is essentially planting seeds to do something to the contrary."
(He peers up again.)
"And while I have been talking about wrestling this entire week, and about how our match could be a show stealing bout-- just a hint, tainted matches aren't on too many classics lists for pure wrestling fans, like myself-- you've recalled a match with someone who you embarrassed and haven't heard from since. And some tantrum another wrestler threw when you were in high school."
"Weren't you the one who I'd heard was interested in honorable, traditional wrestling? I guess you take exception when someone else starts treading on that territory. Do you think I'm trying to 'turf you out,' Impulse?"
"Don't flatter yourself."
(He looks back down.)
"You started things off by taking a guess at what I was thinking. Then, when you were wrong, you continued to change your answer. All the while making me out to be the one doing it."
"Impulse, you can't have your cake and eat it, too. You want to let your imagination guess what your opponent is thinking? You want to claim who is being honest and who isn't? Fine, by all means."
"Just don't drag me down with you."
(He takes a drink of the beer, then sets it back down, and shrugs.)
"And if you want to think you're annoying or irritating me, much less anything more than that, go ahead. The fact is you're entitled to an opinion-- right, wrong, or outright ridiculous as it may be. You just can't tell me what mine is, and expect me not to correct you."
"Your metaphor-twisting falls in the 'outright ridiculous' column. 'Unless your definition of sewer is different than mine...' That's something I may not have heard yet, in wrestling. The funny thing is, we do differ."
"You hear that line and think I'm going to stoop to any means necessary."
"I just couldn't think up a different, compelling image for another pathway leading to a house. Maybe I should have said Basement, instead. Garage Door? Oh, that's a good one. Oh, well."
"But I don't blame you, really, for suspecting what I may be willing to do. It's just not for the same reasons as you draw the conclusion. I said I wasn't a saint, and I have certainly been involved in some less than honorable means in my career. And I don't have regrets, really. I have owned up to what I've done."
"Which brings me to a new point. Since I seem to be the one keeping things fresh and on the 'intellectual high ground,' here."
(He takes another drink, then sits the bottle back on its coaster and looks up.)
"When I came back, it wasn't just to continue on as I had been. If that was the case, then yes, I may have screwed Anarky or Copycat. Maybe I would have deserved the accusations of Aaron Jones. Maybe the EPW fans would have reacted to me differently at Aggression 60."
"But they didn't, because I didn't keep on that path."
"I came back with the intention of making a clean break from some of the things I'd been doing before. I felt like making more of an effort to limit the havoc, rather than allow attacks on those involved in, say, my matches. I didn't want to have to hear about unforeseen circumstances. I just wanted to get back to simply wrestling, and going from there."
"I saw Anarky being ganged up on, and it seemed like maybe someone could step in and balance the scales on his end. A few weeks later, I stood in Dan Ryan's office with you, and find out I'm going to wrestle someone who values simply wrestling. It seemed like just what I was looking for, which is why I said I was looking forward to wrestling you, Impulse."
"At first I thought you completely missed all of that, in favor of trying to stir up things I've been involved in before. Now? I just think you still have growing up to do."
"You have a great record in EPW? Good for you."
"You feel like I may not be giving you the truth, based on what other wrestlers have said or done? Tough sh*t. They have nothing to do with me."'
"Believe it or not, that means even Dan Ryan. I'm not sure what it is about me and Dan Ryan being somehow correlated. Aaron Jones felt the burning need to make a connection before between us. Now it's you taking your shot. You and Aaron have started to sound a bit too alike, for my taste."
"Dan Ryan turned on you to prove a point? Well, he and his tag team partner intentionally gave me and my tag partner a win just so they could beat down on us to their content. To prove a point. No one cared when it happened to me, Impulse, and I sucked it up and moved on. I won't go into metaphor again, but maybe you should brush it off. I doubt it'll be the last time someone wants to leave you high and dry."
"Regardless, I'll need to check-in with Dan about if we are supposed to be conspiring, or something? Because I never got that memo. At least then I won't have to keep giving the same boring answer."
"And by the way, Aaron... Lindsay Troy fired me, not Dan Ryan. Get your facts straight, and get some sleep."
(He turns the seat enough to look out the window, briefly, before turning back.)
"I have kept my nose clean since I returned, but part of me knew I'd be fighting an uphill battle. I know Anarky doesn't care much what anyone does, because he may do it right back to them, eventually. But I thought there would be some doubters of this approach I'm taking. Primarily, I considered the fans may be the largest contingent, but now I'm not so sure. It seems there are some wrestlers who don't understand what I say, and stumble their way to the reception I expected to receive. I guess we come to the same point, but I could do without the ignorance."
"And yet, here we are. Impulse, with Calico Rose as I understand it. Copycat, whenever he decides to show up, and Aaron Jones tagging along."
"But I, with my wrestling and my determination to play it clean, will walk alone."
"Copycat, we've tangled in the past and we've had our alliance. You know as well as I what the cost is for trying to take a piece of someone's livelihood away is. I'll be coming to take my share of retribution. So if your mission at Russian Roulette is to take me down and out, it's going to sustain a humbling blow, and need aborting."
"Impulse.... for all your wild imagination and accusations, I still respect what you represent. I will still be taking you seriously, and this match as seriously as any I have had. Because, despite whatever false flags you'd like to raise above my head, and whatever you think a sewer or a house means... at Russian Roulette, you still walk in the EPW Intercontinental Champion. That deserves respect, and warrants serious attention and focus."
"I'm sorry I wasn't the personality, or kind of character person, or image you were looking for. No, I didn't present you with the cookie-cutter lines, the 'Ra-Ra' speech, or play along to your expectations. I usually don't find those who can meet mine, though, either."
"But just as I define the current standard of the Champion I face, Impulse, I do not prepare to only meet that standard. I expect more, because I tend to bring out more in others. You may find out, yourself, at Russian Roulette."
"Unfortunately, it doesn't typically end well for others. Because while I bring out something more, I have this knack for breaking through that. I know I haven't trotted around my talk of stamina, endurance, and patience like you, this week. Believe me, I haven't lasted as long as I have in this business because I lack any of those general qualities, Impulse. Whether you realized it yet or not, there isn't much that's generic or average about me."
"And whether you know it or not, there won't be anything evasive or unclear about what I'm after, at Russian Roulette. When it's all coming at you, though, you won't need a dictionary to define where you're headed.... to define what you are experiencing...."
"I'll make it nice and easy to shout loud and clear, from you to the world...."
"A Tactful Surrender."
(He takes the beer and turns, facing the window entirely.)
FADE OUT.
User Poets
The Shadow Pope
- Joined
- Jan 6, 1995
- Messages
- 2,192
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 44
- Location
- Top of the Pile
- Website
- www.valeriansgarden.com
Re: Shout It Loud.
Hmmm.
Larry, you said 'define me.' I did: you're a wrestler. You said it again, so I thought, well, maybe I missed something so I'd better look closer.
You analogized (I can look it up if you want) that you'd do anything to win so I replied like you'd do anything to win and you said you'd previously have been offended at that outrageous accusation.
So I thought I'd better do us all a favor and look up the definition of the world definition; one of us was clearly wrong.
Apparently that was a schoolyard maneuver, and I'm a childish, wanton, wretch for doing so.
Cough.
I can't be held responsible for trying to follow your derailed train of thought, Larry: we'd all have been a lot better off if you were able to pick your course of action and keep it consistent through the entire process.
Also, schoolyard accusations have essentially become Godwin's Law of Professional Wrestling, and Mike Godwin says you lose.
Hmmm.
Larry, you said 'define me.' I did: you're a wrestler. You said it again, so I thought, well, maybe I missed something so I'd better look closer.
You analogized (I can look it up if you want) that you'd do anything to win so I replied like you'd do anything to win and you said you'd previously have been offended at that outrageous accusation.
So I thought I'd better do us all a favor and look up the definition of the world definition; one of us was clearly wrong.
Apparently that was a schoolyard maneuver, and I'm a childish, wanton, wretch for doing so.
Cough.
I can't be held responsible for trying to follow your derailed train of thought, Larry: we'd all have been a lot better off if you were able to pick your course of action and keep it consistent through the entire process.
Also, schoolyard accusations have essentially become Godwin's Law of Professional Wrestling, and Mike Godwin says you lose.