"Show me a hero, and i'll write you a tragedy." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
--PROMO BEGIN--
In our world, there is no such thing as heroes.
This world is littered with people, all desperately trying to find their way in life, all trying to make their way inside this crazy world, and all trying to fit in. Well guess what? Fitting in is overrated.
What really matters in this world is being yourself, being an individual, because everybody else is taken. However, when i say that you should strive to be an individual, pretending to be a superhero, with a ridiculous outfit as you try to fly through the ring as if you're in a comic book, is not what i mean.
And this brings me nicely to my opponent for this week - Roxi Johnson.
Roxi seems to have it in that deranged, obviously insane head of hers that she is some kind of superhero, she represent the people and that makes her a better person because she can safely say that she fights for the people.
That is possibly the stupidest thing i've ever heard in my life. Why the fuck would you parade around in a superhero uniform when you're in a wrestling company, unless you had the mental maturity of a seven year old? This week, i don't step into the ring with a wrestler, i step into the ring with a mental patient.
Because in the end, when you're standing there, in your superhero outfit, ready to go toe to toe with the greatest wrestler in this business - and that'd be me - you'll suddenly see exactly how much of a fool you are for how you fight for the people, the very people who destroy this business.
I'll give you a little tip Roxi, you really want to succeed, rather than just prance around in a stupid little superhero outfit, with a championship that matters less than what i had for breakfast this morning, then make yourself useful, and get yourself into catering, you'd be much more use carrying a tray of cheese than actually getting inside that ring and wrestling.
Last week you relied on the help of a two bit diva like Bliss to get you a victory over Laura Tavares, and if it weren't for the self-proclaimed Goddess, you would've been at the receiving end of a beating at the hands of the "Queen" of MPW. I suppose being a Queen is better than being a superhero.
Because superhero's are nothing but fantasy, they are simply dreams, child's playthings that wander through their minds and writhe about in those small minds of five year olds. The human condition is one that believes in dreams, but superheroes are simply nothing more than fantasy, dreams, tales, about as much use in a wrestling ring as a bread-stick. Heroes have no place in reality, because in reality, the good guys don't always win.
In reality, there is no code of conduct, no moral code, there is simply the desire to win, the need to be victorious over your opponents, through any means possible. And it is because of that, that heroes have no business in reality. Because at the end of the day, this world is no place for fantasy, this is a cruel, harsh environment, one which i plan to make full use of this week.
Because even though the human condition is to believe, to believe in fate, and destiny, and fairytales, they are simply tools that children weave through their mind, they have no place whatsoever in reality, and this week, a week before i reign victorious in the Army of One Rumble, and i retain my Sin City title, i will make a prime example of Roxi Johnson.
Because this week Roxi, you're going to get a major reality check, courtesy of the Punk.
*Drake leans forward and pushes a small button as the camera quickly cuts out to black.
--PROMO END--
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"Ow...." I say, the ice pack in my hand reaching to my head as i try to numb the pain of the steel chair shot i just took to the head at the hands of Trey Baxter's little bitch, Ash Soulsfate.
"That was a hard shot you took." Cable says, leaning back on the wall with a can of VB in his hand, and for a moment i was reminded of the Indianapolis versus Baltimore bet we had going, only to be interrupted by another sharp pain shooting through my head from that stiff steel chair shot.
"No shit Sherlock. That little bitch Ash Soulsfate just had to come to the rescue of his boyfriend, he knew Trey Baxter was finished without his help." I basically spit Ash's name, the taste in my mouth still reminiscent of the steel of the black chair i took to the head only minutes prior.
"So what next? What've we gotta do next?" Cable asks, in the confines of my locker room. He watches me as i lower the ice bag and i motion for a drink, and he throws me a VB, identical to the one that's currently in his hands.
I take one swig of the ice cold beer as the door knocks, and as Cable opens it, he leans back and turns around, looking at me with a look that says "we've got some company, and it's not necessarily going to end well".
I stand up, walking to the door to get a look of who it is that just knocked on our door, and i see the hideous bald head of MPW reporter Tim Bowers, microphone in hand, as he stands in the doorway looking very smug, as if he's already got his answer to a question that hasn't even left his lips yet.
And i know what the question is going to be.
"Excuse me, Mr. Hunter, Mr. Cable, i was wondering if i could get a quick interview with you, after the events which have just transpired in that ring and with everything that happened to you before, i was wondering if maybe i could get your thoughts-"
Tim is interrupted by a procession moving through the hall. I turn my head and see none other than the General manager himself, Mr. Johnny Clash walking down the hallway. He smiles as he sees me and gives me that signature wink telling me that he has a plan. Then i hear something from the television that sparks my interest, and as i turn around it is currently showing the last event of TNT on MPW's weekly highlights show that takes place directly after Takedown.
"So, ladies and gentlemen, let's take you back ten minutes to the most recent events in Millennium Pro Wrestling." The reporter, a balding stocky African american man says, standing in the middle of a purple and silver set with a large MPW logo behind him.
"It was the last match of Takedown, and what a match it was. The Ultimate X match - the first of it's kind in Millennium Pro Wrestling - ended with Ash Soulsfate defying the odds and retaining his X-Core championship, however, Ash would see that not all ended smoothly. Because leave it to our general manager to give a stipulation like this:
"You see Ash, i have a proposition for you. You wanna shot at "The Best?" Well the best right now....is me."
Johnny holds up his MPW World Heavyweight championship.
"You want a shot at me Ash? Well here it is. If you hand in your X-Core championship then you will be the number one contender, and we will face each other for my World title at Army of One!"
The screen cuts back to the stocky man presenting the highlights.
"So there you have it ladies and gentlemen, what a decision for Ash Soulsfate to make this week on Takedown! We want your thoughts on what will happen, will Ash take up Johnny's offer and surrender the title that he's held for so long? Or will Ash's desire to keep the X-Core title overcome his desire to become World champion? Well, this is MPW people, the greatest wrestling company in the world, and where else can you see drama like this? Find out next week on TNT!"
The presenter then talks about next Friday when Kuk Killswitch and Brandon Nytrus will go one on one in at Unsanctioned match - something that i have absolutely no interest in. They can kill each other for all i care and i wouldn't look up from my newspaper.
I turn back to see if Bowers is still in the presence of the Messiah or if he's done the right thing and gone to hang himself. Unfortunately for me, and indeed the world, he is still in the doorway, and i sigh as i lean back on the door-frame and wait for the questions to start. From the emptiness of the space beside me, i take it that Cable has taken his opportunity to sneak away from little Timmy and leave me with the idiot.
"Okay, so Mr. Hunter, would it be okay if i asked you a couple of questions?" He says, raising the microphone to my mouth as if anticipating my answer.
"No." I say plainly, about to shut the door on Tim Bowers. However he gets a foot in, stopping the door from being closed.
"Please, Drake, i only need a few words." Damn this guy is really annoying.
"Tell you what, how about i place that microphone next to your mouth, in fact, i've got a better place to put it. Up...Your...well, i don't think i need to continue. So unless you want to feel the full impact of my foot as it collides against your skull, then you're going to put that microphone back in your pockets, and run away like a dog with it's tail between it's legs." I say, staring daggers into Tim Bowers, who immediately backs away, not wanting a confrontation.
"And if that annoys you, then why don't you take it up with our new General manager? See what he makes of you're twerpy little glasses, and jackass suit as you try and make controversy out of absolutely nothing. because i guarantee, compared to our general manager, I'm the most forgiving person you'll ever meet." I say, giving a small evil smirk as i shut the door - this time without resistance, and turn back to the television, as i catch the small green can being lobbed at me.
"Cheers mate." I say mockingly, shaking my head at Cable as he enters from the bathroom.
"What?" He asks, acting innocent.
"You're a dick." I say. "You left me with the dweeb and i had to clean up the mess."
"I had to take a piss." Cable says.
"You should've done it on him." I say, raising the can of beer to my lips as we discuss this week.
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More knocking at the door.
"Ughhhhh." I groan, moving over on the locker room couch as i wake up from my two hour 'power-nap' - by that i sleep for two hours instead of training, or answering reporter's questions, or talking to people. Yeah, human interaction is far too overrated.
"Get lost." I yell, turning back over on the couch as to ignore the knocking at the door.
"Excuse me, Mr. Hunter!"
Oh no.
"Mr. Hunter, it's me, Tim Bowers. I was wondering if this time you'd be able to answer a couple of questions."
Fuck.
"Please Mr. Hunter, if you could just open the door...."
I simply lie on the couch for a while, hoping that he's gone away, but in the back of my mind i know that i do have things to say, and who doesn't want to hear the thoughts of the Technical Messiah of pro wrestling?
I sigh as i stand up, pulling a jacket over my bare chest as i move towards the door, slightly fazed in my first two steps. I pull open the door, and unsurprisingly, Tim Bowers is still there, waiting for me to finally give in to his request.
"Fine, get in here." I say going back to my red leather couch as i sigh and lean back on the red couch, my Sin City championship belt on the table beside me. "Make it quick."
"Okay then..." Tim clicks a small button on the tape recorder next to him as he sits back on the red single recliner, the cameraman standing next to him with the camera perched on his shoulder. "Ladies and gentlemen of the MPW universe! I am here with none other than the self-proclaimed 'Technical Messiah' "Punk" Drake Hunter!" He says self-proclaimed as if i am speaking false preachings, as if i am nothing more than an arrogant liar.
While i may be arrogant, i am not a liar.
I am the Technical Messiah of professional wrestling, because i am going to save this business from the fans, i am going to stop this popularity competition that is wrestling nowadays.
"So, Drake Hunter, this week you go face to face with one of MPW's biggest stars Roxi Johnson, in what will be the last Thursday Night Takedown before Army of One. Thoughts?"
I can help it no longer, i burst out laughing as Tim Bowers looks at me quizzically.
"Is there something wrong Drake?" He says, genuine concern on his face.
"Yes, as a matter of fact there is something wrong with what you just said. You just said that Roxi Johnson is one of MPW's 'biggest stars.' There, my daft little dumb-ass is where you are completely wrong. Roxi Johnson is far from an MPW star - after all, how can you be labelled a star when you're wearing ridiculous outfit and prancing around like a six year old on crack?"
"You see, this week i don't step into the ring with a star, i don't think i even step into the ring with a sane person, let alone a wrestler. Roxi Johnson keeps saying that she's not recognized as a real threat around here, well newsflash for you Roxi, you're nothing of a threat in that ring. The only reason you would be labelled as a threat is if you stopped taking your meds that keep you under control - meds that probably have something to do with the fact that you believe you're a superhero."
"Because Roxi, in this world there is no such thing as a superhero. Heroes are for dreamers, for people who still believe in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy and that Cinderella is actually working at Disneyland, rather than some slut in a costume. "Show me a hero, and i'll write you a tragedy." That's what this week will be for MPW, for those scum-of-the-world people that dictate this business, and to Miss superhero as well."
"Nothing but a tragedy."
"Because this week Roxi, you don't step into the ring with your fantasy prince, or you're arch-nemesis, no, you step into the ring with the Technical Messiah of professional wrestling, you step into the ring with the prodigy, and you step into the ring with the man that is going to not only retain the Sin City championship, but also win the Army of One rumble."
"And that man....is me."
Just before Tim can ask his second question, an object inside my pocket buzzes, and as i pull out the large black object from my pocket, i slide my finger across the screen of the iPhone, and see my newest tweets from my twitter feed.
I shake my head and smile slightly as i see that none other than the "Goddess" Bliss come up on my screen - she's replied to another one of my tweets. And as i see her name pop up on my phone and i forget that Tim Bowers is even there, one question pops into my mind.
Why the fuck am i so obsessed with this girl?
What is it with me and getting into fights with crazy chicks? Is there some quality to me that just attracts craziness in women out? I am seriously that irresistible? Ever since we started bickering on twitter every single time i check my phone i'm somewhat hopeful that she's responded, just so we can keep this little war of words going.
But why? Who knows. One thing's for certain, when it's me and her in that ring, there won't be anything to stop me from getting that Sin City championship. There won't be a single thing stopping me from obtaining my World title shot. And there damn sure won't be anything stopping me from bringing pain to all those who require - and deserve it.
I'm brought out of my thoughts by Tim Bowers as he clicks his fingers in front of my face. Looks like i was daydreaming again. I pop the phone back in my pocket - i can deal with Bliss later - now it was time to address the big issue.
"The Rumble." I say, interrupting Tim Bowers, as i am not actually paying any attention to what he's saying.
"Um, sure, we can talk about that if you like. I was about to ask what you think of Bliss's return to MPW after more than a month on the sidelines, but sure, i guess the questions can be combined."
I smirk, knowing that he wants me to answer his first question - reporters always want their questions answered, and answered the way they want.
"In one week, Army of One will invade the MPW calendar. It is going to be the biggest PPV yet....or so they say about every single PPV. The only difference? This time, i'm going to be the one on the website, i'm going to be the one in the video, and i'm going to be the one that will walk away from the PPV with everybody talking."
"Because a week from now it doesn't matter who i face inside that ring. It doesn't matter if i go face to face with Trey Baxter, Bliss, or hell, even Roxi Johnson. At Army of One, i am going to show the world exactly what the Age of Arrogance is on about. I am going to show everybody the power of arrogance, and i am going to get one step closer to my ultimate goal - the World Heavyweight championship."
"And it doesn't matter if it's Johnny Clash or Ash Soulsfate that faces me at Road to Glory, at MPW's biggest night of the year, the biggest show in the world will be broadcasted to the entire world, and the world will watch as the Punk holds that World title high in the air."
"And then, it'll sit nicely, right next to my Sin City title, and i'll be the only person to hold two titles at once in MPW. I'll be the biggest of them all, and i won't have to worry about little Trey Baxter t-shirts, because then i know i will be...."
"The Best. In. The. World"
"Wow, that's certainly looking ahead. But first you've gotta beat Roxi Johnson this week-"
I cut him off with a hand gesture, silencing him.
"As far as i'm concerned, this week, is simply a clean-up job in the asylum, where Roxi Johnson belongs. Superhero or not, i'll make sure that this week is a tragedy for Roxi Johnson."
I grab my jacket, wrapping it around myself as i walk out of the locker room, only motioning back to say one final thing.
"And Timmy, make sure you close the door on your way out."
With that i move off, ready to write the tragedy of Roxi Johnson's downfall in a few short hours.