TEAM Super Show I: Champion of Champions Title Match: D! (c) vs. Karl Brown

[TH]

Promo deadline: Wednesday, July 12th, 11:59:59 PM

The One Letter Superstar won the Tournament of Champions. The Dragon won the TEAM Invitational Tournament. These two first shining stars of TEAM will battle in the first ever defense of D!'s Champion of Champions title. Mr. Amazing! has been ordered to be the guest referee, but will he comply? Who will come out on top? What kind of effect will Mr. A! have on the match? These questions will be answered...

 

[D!NAPW]

(The screen sputters to life, and we see one word--)

ONE​

(CLIP: Footage, filmized and slow-motioned, of D! slamming Ninja K to the TEAM mat with a NyQuil Driver.)

"I came from NOTHING and I brought EVERYTHING."

(Raw footage, this time of D! stretching backstage a NAPW.)

D!: Everything you see in that ring, everything I do, it's because I brought it there. Whether it's setting the standard in NAPW or setting the standard in TEAM. I am that guy.

LETTER​

(CLIP: D! pulls High Flyer down from the top rope via another NyQuil Driver.)

"When people count me OUT, that's when I get STRONGER."

(D!, seated backstage, pulling on a bottle of water.)

D!: I had to prove it in my own fed, and at the Tournament of Champions, I did it again. People that don't know my name assume that I'm nothing, that I'm easy pickings. I'd like for that **** to change, frankly. Nobody makes a career out of being a plucky underdog. That's a fact and it's been bugging me ever since I became the Champion of Champions.

SAID​

(CLIP: D! chaining off a series of stiff Martial Arts strikes to a staggered Jake Hix.)

"My title encompasses eleven federations."

(D! walking down the hallway, the gold, platinum and diamond-built TEAM Champion of Champions belt on his shoulder.)

D!: That amazes some people. That doesn't sit well with some people. There are people, frankly, that aren't happy with me being the Tee-oh-Cee winner. And it's not because they're jealous, unfortunately, it's because they think I don't deserve it. I've got to fight that. It's as deadly to me as any single opponent, and it could defeat me just as quickly.

REAL​

(CLIP: D! launches into space, dropping an all-or-nothing elbow drop right into Mr. Amazing's heart.)

"I'm here because I WANT to be."

(In the hallway, D! and the title jog in place.)

D!: They told me that my title would be up for grabs in twelve months. I told them "No Dice", I told them I wanted to defend this title NOW. I've got too much I need to prove to the world then to have this pretty belt sit on my shoulder for a year. If anyoneis better than me, then let them TAKE it from me.

LOUD​

(CLIP: D!, triumphant, near tears, standing on a TEAM turnbuckle and holding up the very same title at the end of the Tournament.)

"I do not fear Karl Brown. I will not sweat Mr. Amazing."

(D! stands by the gorilla position backstage, still jogging in place.)

D!: As good as he is, as worthy as he is, Karl Brown will NOT find me easy to beat. More than likely, he will find-out first-hand what he's have found out if he was at the Tournament. It's gonna be one-on-one, the best NAPW has to offer versus the best EPW has to offer. Karl "The Dragon" Brown, I can't WAIT to hear what you have to say to me. But whether you tear me a new one or you spend the next week in silence, well, at least do me the favout and show up on time.

And if Mr. Amazing actually costs me the win, well . . . then it'd be pretty clear who he thinks would the easiest guy to get the title off of afterwards. And besides, everybody wants the two of us to go at it again.

("RIIIIIGHT . . . BEFOOORE! MY! EYES!" blares the Polish Hall's sound system, an D!'s eyes light up. His music is on--)

D!: (Smiles.) And it's show-time.

(He bursts through the curtain. To wild applause, one tousand people strong, D! emerges from the back like a toqued, motor-mouthed man on a mission, hoisting his TEAM belt high above his head, and running to the camera--

Black.)

ONE
LETTER
SAID
REAL
LOUD​

(And we hear a crowd chanting "D! D! D! D!" at the top of their lungs.

The picture come back on as a cocky-looking D! slams his fist into the camera lens.

Black.)

 

[EpyonMarx]

[FADE IN. “The Dragon” is sitting on a hill-side, overlooking the Welsh countryside on a clear, sunny day. He’s wearing a white T-shirt under a green and black fleece jacket, a pair of jeans, and walking boots, and he’s holding a bottle of water. He’s clearly decided to do some light cardio work outside today. A gentle breeze brushes the tall grass in what is, if not quite, an idyllic scene]

Karl: From one extreme to the other. The last time I wrestled on a TEAM event, it was against someone who claimed so vehemently to be opposed to professional wrestling that he convinced himself he was on a quest to crush the industry that kept him alive. This time, I’m going up against someone who’s so embedded in professional wrestling, that he takes one letter and an exclamation mark as his ring-name. Of course, he’s not the first to take a grammatical symbol as part of his name, but Who? remembers the other one? D!’s a lot more famous than that character.

And he’s going to be difficult to beat. Let me make that abundantly clear, because time and time again I’ve said an opponent is going to be tough to beat, only for them to come out and say I’m underestimating them. All of them also said they were going to beat me easily, and none of them found it to be easy. If they managed to win.

So, this match is going to be tough. He’s the Champion of Champions, the winner of the Tournament of Champions, and he represents, as he said, eleven different federations across multiple circuits.

How fitting then that he’s facing the winner of the Chad Merritt trophy. And how fitting that he’s taking credit for the match, when I actually thought when the ToC announcement was made that the winner of that tournament would be squaring off against me in a match for all the bragging rights. Because, when you get down to it, champions are not everything in professional wrestling. Those that hold the belt now, or who they beat for it, are not necessarily the best of the best. Taking pride in holding a belt and expecting everyone to bow down before you does not prove greatness. There were people in the TEAM Invitational who I would wager are better than some of the champions sent to the ToC.

Note, I don’t think it amusing to elongate the syllables. It’s one of those fads that comes around in professional wrestling every once in a while, and I’ve never liked slovenly use of the English language. I’m a pedant like that. But I digress.

This match is certainly going to be tough. But is it going to show what many writers are thinking it will - who the best in professional wrestling today is? Of course not. It’s going to show which out of two people was able to either force a submission out of their opponent, or stun them long enough to get a three count. Throw in the added gimmick of having Mr Amazing as the special guest referee, and it’s clear that this match is not going to demonstrate who is the best there is. Anyone claiming to be the best there is had better be able to back it up, because there’s over six billion people who you’d have to face to prove it.

But once again, I digress.

I couldn’t really care less if Mr Amazing decides to do anything but call this match right down the middle. I couldn’t really care if D! thinks that I consider him to be easy to beat, or if I hope he’ll fear me. It’s the same as if he thinks I care about his accomplishments in a federation I’m not a part of. It doesn’t matter. All that really matters is the one match. The only time we’ll know who the winner is really going to be is the very moment in time that the referee calls for the bell to end the match. If Mr Amazing costs me the match, so be it. If he costs D! the match, so be it. He’ll find me equally difficult to dethrone as he would you, D!. You see, the only certainty when I’m in the ring is I’m going to give it the best I can on the night. Some nights, my best may not be as much as it was another night, or will be on a future night. But easy?

That’s a word best saved for Big Daddy to chant.

You don’t have to worry about me turning up on time, D!. All you’ve got to worry about is keeping yourself from being so sure of anything about yourself that you leave a gap in your defences. You see, some of what you said was quite self-depreciating. But beyond that, you made it clear what you think the outcome’s going to be. You made it clear that because you want something, it’s going to be. Almost as if there’s some sort of right you have that what you want is yours.

The only right is the pursuit of happiness. Wanting to hold that title didn’t guarantee you were going to win it, and wanting to retain it against me doesn’t make that any more likely.

But you’re a smart man, so I’ll work on the basis you already know some of the finer points of philosophy.

So, when the bell rings, I’m sure the fans are going to be treated to a match to remember. As for who is going to walk away the winner - Who? knows.

And he’s not talking.

[Karl stands, and starts to walk up the hill some more. FADE OUT]

 

[D!NAPW]

(Lights up on a sunnt, beautiful Whyte Avenue. Amidst the business men and punks walks D!, who would be dressed light were it not for his ubiquitous toque. On his shoulder is his TEAM belt and on his face a smile.)

D!: Well, the noise you just heard was a shot being fired across my bow by Karl "The Dragon" Brown. My seeming rival in this, the quest to be the shining star of eleven federations, the Champion of Champions. (Pats the title on his shoulder.) And Karl, well, Lord knows you're qualified to do it. Owning Trevor Hawke. MDK on Steven Shane. Knocking Hida Yakamo out cold with a DDT counter. Beating Mr. Entertainment--my God--with the most amazing thing I'd ever seen in my life, that pin, wow. And, of course, a brutal Dragon's bite on Victor Molotov. I know your C.V., Karl, because I've seen those matches. (Jabs his thumb at his chest.) Bought me the DVD set. And Karl, hands down, beyond the shadow of a doubt, you fought like a wildcat and you got the job done. Lord only knows what the Tee-oh-Cee would have been like if you'd have been in it. (Shrugging, he taps the belt's faceplate.) Maybe you'd have gotten this. But we can't rewrite history, so we'll never know. Instead, we'll go straight to facing each other, minus the tournament, but in many ways, Karl, it's gonna be a fitting match.

Karl Brown, weighing in at two-hundred-and-eleven pounds. D!, weighs in at two-hundred-and-ten pounds, but just ate a big lunch. Karl Brown, notorious for wearing his heart on his sleeve. D!? (Pumps his fist.) EMO! EMO! EMO! Karl Brown, idolized the greats, captured their style and worked his ass off to improve on it. D!, oh my Lord can you believe it, same thing happened.

By now, some of you may have figured out where I'm going with this.

You see, Karl, you made a point of not underestimating me. And sir, let me tell you that you have just BLOWN MY MIND. Do you realize that in the nine months of my career, you have been the only opponent to ever give me that consideration? The ONLY ONE! I have been working hard for nine months to get someone to sum me up and say "Yep, he's gonna be a handful." So NO, Karl, I won't claim that you're underestimating me. You know what I'm capable of. And I know what you're capable of. so let's skip the tired old "your kung fu is weak" smack-talk and focus on what really matters, okay?

The English language. It's not "self-DEPRECIATING", it's "self-DEPRECATING". No "shee", it's a hard "kuh". I'm self-DEPRECATING. Okay? Houses DEPRECIATE, people DEPRECATE. You know, normally I wouldn't pick up on stuff like this, but, gosh darn it, there's no sense being slovenly about the English language.

(Shrugs.) I'm kidding. I don't even understand what I just said.

But all joking aside, Karl, you and I could very well stand to be evenly-matched. Dragon's Bite, meet NyQuil Driver. Chain wrestling, meet the Beat-O-Barrage. Hell, I've even pulled out an MDK once or twice myself. I'm not going to bore you by comparing you to NAPW talent I've already faced, because let's be honest, NAPW has Ravager. No, Karl, you very well might be the most dangerous opponent I've ever faced, because deep down, well, I think we have a more than a few commonalities.

Now if only your damn attitude didn't suck so much.

(He laces his fingers together, then begins wringing his hands and dropping a whine into his voice.) Well, this match doesn't have any value, what does a belt mean anyways? It won't be a real match because Mr. Amazing's there. It's not going to prove anything. It doesn't make the winner the best of the best.

(He pulls his hands apart, then gives the camera a withering look.)

Come ON! Yes, it DOES! TEAM is AWESOME! I'm AWESOME! You're AWESOME! Mr Amazing's OKAY! The match is gonna be AWESOME! I am pumped, excited, thrilled to square dance with you, Karl, because I think this match does mean something. It does stand for something. There are wrestlers and fans in eleven federations that know how much this means. You said it youself--that the only guarantee is the pursuit of happiness--well, pursue, peanut, pursue!

Where's the fire? Where's the drive? Where's "The Dragon", the fire-breathing ass-kicker that I want to face? You talk coolly and unattached about our match-up, trying to ground me, tryng to see things you way--I wanna fly! I want to take it to you--I want to do something in that ring that I've never done before! Like a 619! Or a rest hold! Don't waste your time talking about what you think this match is not--focus on what you think this match is!

If you don't bring the drive, Karl, I wll snuff you (snaps his fingers at the camera) in a second.

But if you prove that you want this--

(He picks the belt off of his shoulder and holds it before the camera.)

--then give me a damn sign.

(He cocks his head, grins, and slaps the title back onto his shoulder.)

You know where to find me.

(And he strides out of camera frame. Lights down.)

 

[EpyonMarx]

[FADE IN. A night-time scene in what is, for his fans, a familiar forest clearing. A roaring fire is blazing in the centre, as “The Dragon” sits on a log not so far away from the flames that the light completely misses him]

Karl: It’s amazing how people fail to do basic research. The layman might think D! has actually done some knowing how I won the Chad Merritt trophy, but, alas, all he’s managed to do is seem increasingly like a mark for this industry, more-so than Joe Average. By elevating me to a pedestal, it could very well be he’s trying to make me cocky. It might work - except for the fact he likes to remind people of his nine month career thus far. The nine months where people think he’s a flash in the pan, where he thinks he needs someone to come along and say that he’s going to be a challenge.

His comments might have puffed me up, had my own career not been what it has been.

It is a nice routine he’s got going for himself, though. He’s more original than the usual people I face - those who are quick to point out just how good they are, only to fall flat on their face when it comes to the match. So, marks to D! for originality.

Marks for intelligence - zero. Honestly, trying to talk to an Englishman with a degree in English Literature about the pronunciation of an English word is one of the more laughable things I’ve seen someone do. I know he then went on to say he didn’t know what he was talking about, but I’ve always felt that if someone doesn’t understand something, they should be educated about it. It’s the best way of improving society - education. So, as a quick lesson - depreciating not only means to lesson the price of, but also to think or speak of being of little worth. Deprecate may very well be a synonym for the same thing - but then again, I could have said he was being self-deflating, self-disparaging, or that he was under-valuating himself. It’s one of the most irritating thing for non-native speakers of the English language - we have so many words which can mean the same thing it’s tricky to know them all. That’s why use of a thesaurus and a dictionary come in handy. I’ve been told that people quite often need them to understand parts of my segments. Maybe I should think about hiring someone to jot down what I’m planning to say, and then highlight the points where I might want to let people pause the tape so they can dig out the books.

[Karl pauses, a smirk flickering across his face in the light from the flames]

Karl: But joking aside, I wouldn’t bother trying any mind-games on me, D!. I wouldn’t try to analyze me. I certainly wouldn’t try and paint this as being anything bigger than it really is - a professional wrestling match between two people to decide which is the better professional wrestler. Nothing more, nothing less. You see, there’s much to be said for engaging in a grand-scale view of things. And in the grand scale, what happens on that night is going to be forgotten in the wink of an eye. So, really, there’s no reason for me to treat this match any differently to the Mayhem Mountain match I had against Adam Benjamin for the MCW World Heavyweight title back in two thousand and three. A match that I’m told still sells well on the DVD market, and what was, as a brief read-through my history will tell you, only my third match.

I likewise won’t treat this match any differently to any of the ones you’ve mentioned, or the very first match in Empire Pro Wrestling history, when I opened the card by defeating Mike Diamond. I don’t see why you deserve any more respect than any other person I’ve faced - and the title you currently carry certainly doesn’t entitle you to any more. One thing I’ve learned is that if you want to take yourself seriously, you have to live to your own moral code. And, suffice to say, mine reads that every single person deserves the same kind of respect in the ring as any other, because anyone can beat anyone in professional wrestling. Who would have thought that Joe Average would have beaten Ken Cloverleaf in the TEAM Invitational? In his first ever match, no less.

[Karl pauses again, leaving a crackling sound to rise form the fire as a branch splits from the heat of the flames]

Karl: You seem to have a very narrow view of the world, D!. How can I say that? Because you seem to think that by winning a title from you, I’ll be exercising my right to the pursuit of happiness… sorry, guarantee I think you called it. Another example of being slovenly with the English language. You see, D!, the way I view things in this industry, the titles are just a means of measuring how far we’ve come, and how far we’ve got left to go.

Let me explain. I’m the Empire Pro Wrestling Intercontinental Champion. I won the TEAM Invitational Tournament. I placed second in the two thousand and four Wrestling League Series in the NWL, and have placed third and fourth respectively at HWF’s two Natural Selection tournaments. My record contains two drawn matches - the first against Maelstrom, when I was half a second away from the three count, and the other against Lindsay Troy, the Empire Pro World Champion - also, as the referee’s hand was falling for the three count. Each and every single one of those matches and accomplishments merely tells me how far I’ve progressed since my debut. I know that if I lose the Intercontinental Championship, the person who beats me for it was better on that night - they’d have found a chink in my armour, so to speak, and managed to wrest from my grasp a leather strap with some metal on it. I’d look at that and say to myself OK - you know how far you’ve come. You know what level you’re at - now, go higher.

That’s the pursuit of happiness for me. That’s me exercising my right. Self-improvement. I’ve always had high standards of myself, so I’ve always tried to push myself beyond my current limits. If I beat you for the Championship of Championships, then it shows me that I’ve reached another plateau - it gives me a few moments to think about how to push myself higher as a person. And if I lose, I’m able to look at it and know how much further I have to go to get beyond my own limits. Some would say I’m just trying to reach my potential, but I’m more trying to get beyond that - because when I reach my potential, what else is there for me to do?

You might think I’m strange for not caring about titles. That’s your prerogative. You might think me strange for caring about how people pronounce words, or for caring about the English language more than I care about the American version. You might think me even stranger for coming across as cold and distant. You’re entitled to your opinions. I am who I am, and I won’t try to be anything other. If you wanted to face someone who would be gunning for your title to prove themselves as the best there is in the entire industry, then I apologise. If you wanted someone to care about nothing more than seizing what they believe to be rightfully theirs because they want it more than life itself - I apologise. If you wanted someone to tell you that this match is going to be the hardest fought contest ever, or if you wanted someone to overlook you, I’m sorry.

This match is nothing more than a measure of how far along our paths we’ve come. We’re going to be in a match that undoubtedly is going to be hard-fought, but we’re both engaged in a struggle against opponents who are much more dangerous and difficult to beat than the person who’s going to be staring across the ring from us. We’re both constantly facing someone who could do more to derail us from our paths than Mr Amazing.

We’re facing ourselves. Who wins between “The Dragon” and the one letter superstar will be determined also by the winner of “The Dragon” versus Karl Brown, and D! against D!.

Can you beat yourself and me at the same time? We’ll find out.

[FADE OUT]

 

[D!NAPW]

"Oh Dragon, my Dragon!"

(Lights up--it's a streetlight-marred night sky with the soundtrack of city-dwellers and running engines. The camera tilts downward to reveal the pipes and gravel of a commercial rooftop . . . apparently not even that tall, two or three stories above the ground, judging by the buildings across the street. Somewhere below, young men are whooping and their women are giggling. The loud, hoarse run of an unmufflered engine emans that someone has cosen to race 50 feet to the next red light.

Whyte Avenue and Fourth.

With a crunch underfoot, D! walks into the camera frame--wearing his simple black toque and carrying the TEAM belt over his shoulder, much as he would, one suspects, do at a black-tie dinner or a day at the beach--and smiles. The smile takes him through a quick, cursory inspection of his kingdom, lasts for a quick inhalation of South Edmonton night air, and the rest he spends on shooting a genuinely amiable look at the camera.)

D!: Karl.

Listen, we're so close to squaring off in the TEAM ring that I feel that I should lay some of your fears to rest. I step outside of myself, I leave my pride at the door, and when I look at our match that way, it seems like we've got so much in common. I know that compared to my other Week From Hell opponents, Devastation and Static, that I've got the worst possible chance to outthink you. It's humbling Karl, because I think forward to our match, and it seems like there's very little I can do that won't be completely in the moment. I don't have any plans for you outside of the ring, outside of "give 'till it hurts". And ask someone who follows NAPW, this kind of situation is foreign and scary to me.

But yeah, Karl, yeah . . . I AM a Mark. Damn skippy. I grew up idolizing guys like Bret Hart and Sting . . . big deal. So did you, so did Amazing, so did Ravager, so did Troy, so did the whole NAPW and EPW locker rooms. Maybe not Hart or Sting, but somebody. Somebody saw a wrestler work SO damn good, work SO damn hard to do what they did and that GOT ther ass into the ring. Me? It was watching wrestlers, it was watching Chris Benoit, here in Edmonton, his hometown, defend his title--I looked at that match, that moment and I said THIS:

"Me, too."

Not "Me, too" as is I wanted to be Champion. Not "Me, too" as in I wanted to be famous. Or loved. Or rich. Or on T-shirts. No, Karl, no! I wanted to be in that MOMENT, to be in that FIGHT, that is where I BELONG. To risk my ******* neck, to crawl in and out of my opponent's head--my epiphany was to stop THINKING about doing it and actualy DO it.

And so I dropped out of University. I was an English Major. True story.

My second match I became my company's Champion. My opponent was good, Karl. An East Coast guy by the name of Plague--ever heard of him? Plague was good, he was dangerous, but Karl, he chose to write me off and he paid the price. Oh, did he EVER pay the price. He grew so obsessed over beating me that he put his damn career on the line, and you know what? He LOST. A powerful man, a great career, and I ENDED it. Because while he could match me physically, he lost he MENTAL game. Time. And time. Again.

Now magnify that times nine months, Karl, and you have my NAPW experience. Because as hard as I'd tried, I could never, NEVER find anyone who felt the way about wrestling that I did. Either I get arrogant player-haters like Chris Casino, Static, or Evan Cartwright that STILL want to consider me a fluke, no matter WHAT I've accomplished, or now that I've blown away the locker room time and time again, guys like Uzi or Carter Owens who consider me to be an outdated, corrupt veteran. That's right, I can simultaneously occupy these slots in the SAME FED. People GUESS and they GUESS and they GUESS but they DO. NOT. get me RIGHT.

And then there's YOU, Karl. Dangerous. Smart. English. The whole package, so it would seem. And you size me up, with my skills, with my flaws, a World Champion in a regional fed, and you give me the same amount of respect that you give everybody else--no MORE, no LESS. You want to fight for the belt on my shoulder, not so you can go back to EPW and brag, but simply so you can prove to yourself, an yourself only, how GOOD you are.

Well.

(Another low-riding embarassment belches its way along somewhere in the background, so D! pauses to let it through.)

Well, I never, ever thought I was ever going to find another wrestler who I'd actualy RELATE to. I don't know if you genuinely care what I think, but honestly, the more I learn about Karl "The Dragon" Brown, the more I think I should be fighting on Karl "The Dragon" Brown's side, as opposed to trying to pummel him unconscious. It is a little sad for me, but then again, pummeling people is what we do. It's our currency. And really, there's no better way to get to know someone, don't you think?

But then, Karl, there are these differences. And if anything, it's this non-stop comparison that I can't stop myself from doing in my head that . . . CONSUMES me, Karl. I mean, you're so even-handed, so meticulous, so . . . bloody . . . Vulcan in your approach that I find myself questioning whether or not I wanted this after all. Whether or not I can be as even-handed as you, after all. Call it nine months of NAPW programming me, but . . . I can't BE that calm. I'm still the Mark, and I'm telling you right now, that isn't going to be a weakness. I give everything I HAVE out there because it thrills me. When I've got a brain that tells me I've got nothing left, I've got a HEART that pumps FIRE across my body and silences my reason. Try as I might, for what it's cost me, for the battles and friends that I've lost, I CAN'T stop bringing my pride into the ring. It's my strength, Karl, it's my fuel, my tank never gets empty. Do you understand me, Karl? I CANT. KEEP. CALM. I can't relax, and I WON'T relax.

I want to ROCK, Karl! I want to LOSE myself in the roar of the crowd, I want to get EXCITED. I want to feel what I felt my FIRST time, EVERY time. I'll leave you on your plateau, Karl, I'll let you sit up there like Zeus and watch us mortals--YOU'VE GOT IT! Let THAT be the differences between us . . . between the smartest man in wrestling, and a man that gives into his GUT, EVERY. DAMN. TIME.

D! versus D!, I'm gonna let myself LOSE. But as for "The Dragon" versus D!, pray that I do more than self-depreciate, pray that I self-IMMOLATE. Otherwise, the FLAMES, the FIRE, the SPIRIT . . . it's MINE. And I WILL push you to your limits, you bet your ASS I'll do it.

(He lifts the title off of his shoulder, and holds it before him.)

Prove to me I'm wrong, Karl. Take this belt from me and prove I'm WRONG.

(He slaps the belt back onto his shoulder and slows his breathing, still shaking.)

Prove to me I'm not already on the damn plateau.

(And the camera slowly fades to black.)

 

[EpyonMarx]

[FADE IN. “The Dragon” is sitting in his locker-room, the only light coming from a few candles he’s arranged on the floor. We can barely make out the desk, the lockers, the physio table and the benches that indicate this is usually used by more than one person. But tonight is a special occasion, so TEAM have given “The Dragon” his own room. He has his eyes closed as he gets ready for the upcoming match]

Karl: You know, D! - you’ve given me a huge look at who you really are. Impulsive. Scared. Emotional. All from a few minutes of tape. You’re impulsive because you do things on a whim - you wanted to go in there and fight, so you threw away your degree. You enjoy making comparisons between us, and here’s an example of where we differed - I knew when I was a lot younger that I wanted to set foot one day in the squared circle, to join in the solar spectacle - but I also knew that I’d need something to fall back on in case my career either didn’t take off, or I got injured badly enough to need to retire. So, I trained during the holidays when I went to university. Came out with a good degree, lots of radio experience, and any number of stories from training in Japan, the UK, Canada, and the USA. I’ve got a contingency plan, so I don’t have to worry about getting injured - it may be the end of my professional wrestling career, but it won’t be the end of me.

You’re scared. You’ve heard that you’re a fluke so much over the past nine months that you’re scared it might be true - you get very emotional talking about it. I assure you, you’ve nothing to be scared of. But you’re letting yourself listen to what other people say. That’s another difference between the two of us - I’ve never tried to make people think I wasn’t a flash in the pan. It’s been a long time since I took something an opponent said personally, because I know that they’re trying to play mind-games. I grew up watching people like Jake Roberts, Rick Rude, and Kendo Nagasaki, so I’m well aware of how useful mind-games can be. That’s why, when I entered the two Natural Selection tournaments, I didn’t watch the tapes sent in by the other competitors until after the fact. Once the final bell had sounded, once the bleeding had stopped, and once the pain was dulling, I sat down and watched. Not before - because I didn’t want my mind clouded with the attempted mind games of that number of opponents in one night. You listen when people say you’re a flash in the pan, and try to prove them wrong. You listen when people say you’re a corporate flunky, and try to prove them wrong. I just let them get on with spouting their inane twaddle and leave it at that. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me - and falling dictionaries don’t count.

You’re passionate about your wrestling. That’s one thing that we share - we just show it in different ways. I don’t mark out when I wrestle someone. I don’t go up to Steve Borden, or Mark Rocco, or Keichi Yamada and ask for an autograph. Maybe it’s my years on student radio, but I don’t see the point in getting nervous meeting famous people - I met enough when I was on the music team that I know they eat, drink, and **** the same as the rest of us. My passion instead takes the form of training, of improving myself, physically and mentally. When your head says stop, your heart says go on - when my body says stop, my head says “What’s the problem? There’s nothing wrong - keep going.” My passion is what keeps me doing CV training for eight or nine hours at a time. My passion is what keeps me watching tapes to see if there’s a definite pattern to how my opponent works. My passion is what keeps me altering my style so people can’t do the same to me. My passion is what stops my thoughts from racing when it comes time to wrestle. Some people like to run around and make a lot of noise, and some like to keep calm. I’m the latter, you’re the former. I’ve met more of your type than mine over the years, whether in rugby or professional wrestling, so maybe there’s something to be said for getting hot under the collar before a match.

But as the Mick Softley song says - you go your way, I’ll go mine.

[Karl pauses for a second, taking a deep breath, which causes the candles that are closest in front of him to flicker momentarily, before settling back into a steady rhythm]

Karl: Maybe I’ll win tonight. Maybe I’ll lose. Maybe we’ll both get knocked out. Maybe someone will drop a thermo-nuclear devise on the arena. Who knows what will happen. I don’t worry myself about what might be. The only thing certain is that we’ll both go to the ring, and attempt to beat the other person. You might try to pummel me, or you might try to match me hold for hold. The problem for you is going to be when things don’t go your way - how will you react? Since you’ve seen all my matches from the TEAM Invitational, you’ve seen my match against Viktor Molotov. You know, therefore, how I managed to get him off his game, and get him so he wasn’t thinking straight, by simply releasing a couple of holds as soon as he reached the ropes - he started to lose his cool, and he started to make mistakes. Getting emotional in the ring does not help - being spontaneous might, but losing your head over it doesn’t. You don’t have to be academically intelligent, but you do have to be able to think.

That’s the biggest advice I can give you for tonight, D!. Think. Do all you can to not let me get into your head. Wrestling is as much a mental sport as it is physical - once one person loses their cool, once they lose their ability to think - they’re that much easier to defeat.

Tonight has the potential to be even greater than any match either of us have both had and witnessed. Whether it will is still to be determined.

Keep your head, D!. Don’t make mistakes. Against me, you rarely get a second chance.

[Just then, the candles are all snuffed out, leaving the screen in total darkness]

Karl: Good luck.

[FADE OUT]


-------------
-------------
OoC: Yeah, I know the deadline passed, lol. I just wanted to bring something else to round out the story - it's been a great matchup, and I wish you luck mate