"Arrogance is disastrous only if you're wrong..." - Anonymous
--PROMO BEGIN--
There are too many people these days who go around blabbering lots of stuff they know absolutely nothing about and keep claiming that everything they say is the truth, when all it is is complete and total bullshit.
Everybody who steps into that ring and blows their own horn has an ego, hell, in wrestling if you don't have an ego you're going to get absolutely nowhere. But the problem is what they do with their egos. They seem to think that they can waltz in and start talking themselves up completely, and deep down they know inside that they're wrong, that there's no way anybody could possibly believe such words without actually going out there to prove it.
And people do prove it - sometimes. But there are too many people who go out there and start yapping the mouth of the fans, who will listen to it just because they love hearing trash talk and are waiting for the moment when they can go "OOHHH, he did not just say that!!!" And start posting it on facebook so that it all becomes one massive discussion.
And then you know what happens? People start shit-talking about shit-talking. People start expressing their opinions about what comes out of other people's mouth. And in most cases - obviously excluding Taufik - because all that comes out of his mouth is shit nobody can possibly understand - they are always complete, and dead, wrong.
This is all part of the wheel in which professional wrestling exists, the very cycle of professional wrestling. This business is based on shit-talking, it hypes up everything, it's the reason we go into that ring, to back up what we say. But there's a major difference between two sorts of people.
There's people who shit talk because it's what they wish they could be, and then there's people who shit talk because it's what they are.
And i'm glad to say i fall under category number two.
Because i go out there every week and i make my point, i get in people's heads, i make an impact. I go out there and do what i do best, and that is wrestle, and i go out there not only to save myself, but everybody else from the corporate grip on professional wrestling. This is not just a sport, this is not just a form of entertainment to those sitting in the arena and at home, this is not simply another television show. For most of us, this business is our life, and it's being flooded down the drain by the very people who make it so popular.
Actually that's wrong, the fans - you scum-ridden people - don't make it popular. WE make it popular. And by we i mean myself, Chris Cable, Andre Dixon, and Kuk. Killswitch.
Yeah, surprised by that were you? You didn't trust me when i said everything would turn out fine....for me! I always have a plan, i never go into a situation - hell, even life - without a plan. Everything is pre-meditated in my mind, and this was just another tiny piece to the jigsaw puzzle.
So now you see, this is our insurance policy, this is a little bit of added muscle to an already dominant faction. Because who wouldn't want the X-Core champion on their side? Like i said, we are growing in numbers every day. We're more than just some petty stable, we're a cult. We're a family. We are a revolution.
And you can't stop revolutions. Not when they reach full swing. France. Russia. Libya. Even the United States Of America came about by a revolution. The ironic thing is that we are trying to stop the very people that the revolution saved from doing the same thing the Brits did to our company.
We are not going to stop until every single piece of MPW is ridden of this corporate villainy, until every single superstar is governing themselves and has no promos written, no shit talk handed to them on a clipboard and no gimmick presented at a meeting. The objective is simple. Save the people who matter, from the people who don't.
Kuk Killswitch was just an example of the damage we can cause. Bliss has been messing with me since the beginning, and sorry darling, but we were only out there to prove a point. This past week we were only out there to cover the backs of one of our own. Either way, you're nothing more than an insignificance in the grand scheme of things - we use you to make a point, nothing more, nothing less.
And what a point it was, because now we've got it all. Tag team title. X-Core title. The greatest wrestler to ever grace the earth and the saviour of Millennium Punk Wrestling. Not to mention in three weeks time we'll have another piece of gold added to the Age of Arrogance repertoire. The one that counts.
The World Heavyweight Championship.
Ash, don't take what i did to you last week personally....
Actually, do. Because it was personal. You have something i want, and when that happens, i make things personal, i make sure you feel every possible ounce of pain through every facet of your entire being as you look up and see that all of your hard work and dedication to the people who are destroying this business is down the drain, and all of my work has paid off.
You seem to think that by defeating Johnny Clash you've done it all, you've got a shiny piece of metal in your hands and now you're king of the world. Well, all i can see is a little man standing there with a shiny little gold plate on some leather - which with your intelligence you probably confuse with a spoon - as he looks around and prays to a God that doesn't exist that he can keep his title one more week, just so he can look at it and think to himself 'Wow, i'm just like the big guys now....'
Well sorry to break it to you Ashey boy, but just because you're Johnny Clash it doesn't mean your one of the big guys. You haven't proven yourself until you've faced the best. And that's not Johnny Clash. That's not Trey Baxter. It's me.
You keep banging on about how you're the 'real thing'. Well let me tell you a little secret Ash.... The only real thing in this company, is US.
Because those jackasses in corporate make sure that nothing is real. Everything is pampered to the taste of the mindless drones in the audience who seem to think that every single time they're favorite little "superstar" loses to the better man they can go online and start ranting about it, and that's exactly what they do.
They go out there, and they make the jackasses in suits write down some ideas to make it better for the fans, and then they do it. Nothing here is real. Until now. Until the Age of Arrogance.
You only got that World title shot because corporate's know that you're popular. You're the 'real thing' in their minds so that means you get thrust into the main event. You. The man who only a month ago was part of the X-Core division, climbing up a rope like a trapeze monkey and grabbing a title with a big flashy X on the centre as if it was the holy grail.
Then you get some cheers. People start watching. They start paying money to come see you, and look at what happens. Now we have a chump for a champ. All because of them. And now they have lost control. The corporates are no longer able to control who gets what, and how the popular ones get all the spotlight. All thanks to me.
Because i outlasted twenty-nine other men and women all gunning for the exact same goal and i survived - i won. You said that i would cling onto this Army of One win like it was a dying breath, because it's the only thing i've done. Just like you cling onto your little girlfriend, because it's the only thing you've done. Last time i checked you hadn't beaten twenty-nine others. You've won some matches, sure, you beat Johnny Clash, nice going, who hasn't? But in the end, it won't be me waking up the morning after Road To Glory wondering where all the spotlight went.
It will be you.
You'll be the one who goes into the arena the week after and see all your pictures taken down off the walls. You know why? Because you're useless to them now, you mean nothing, you don't make them any more money, and they'll have moved onto some new private bitch to do their bidding. And even when you're standing outside Kelly-Anne Hale's door, begging for your little piece of gold back, you'll always have that thought in the back of your mind that you aren't good enough to be the best, and you weren't good enough to beat the best.
I've had dozens of people barraging me with questions about everything, about Bliss, about Johnny, but most of all, about Ash Soulsfate and the main event at Road to Glory. This is our Road to Glory Ash, and only one person is emerging from the other side with that World Heavyweight championship.
And if you seriously think it'll be you, then you're crazier than i am. Because in the end, nothing will stop the revolution.
Not you, not Johnny, not corporates, not even the people we're trying to destroy.
You wanna fire us? See if that does anything. It will only add fuel to the fire. Gang up on us? The numbers are already far in our advantage to try that tactic, and our resolve won't be stopped. Send your best? Seeing as your best right now is Ash Soulsfate and i got him chasing after me like an bull seeing red, that isn't going to work either.
So, any more solutions? Of course not, because you're never going to be that smart, you're just going to be money whores feeding off the popularity of others. Although Kelly-Ann probably feeds more than money off others.
And in the end, you will all be powerless to stop the revolution. You're going to all be at the mercy of the Age of Arrogance, and one thing i don't have....
Is mercy.
--PROMO END--
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The pain throbs through every fibre of my arm as i continuously push past it, ignoring it like a chargin rhino ignores everything in it's path besides it's target. And this target, it the World title.
Somewhere in the background my phone goes off but i'm too concentrated to notice - the incredible body and incredible wrestling skills don't just make themselves - occasionally we all have to do a bit of weights training.
I feel more and more sweat gather on my forehead and condense until it falls from my skin, onto the tiled floor where i am standing on as i pull more and more, not giving up until i'm completely satisfied that there's not one single cell in my body that isn't hurting from the constant pain. My ears are still full of the music flooding through them through the small white headphones i use to concentrate, Thousand Foot Krutch blasting through them so that everything else is unintelligible.
I put my hands on my head as i open the fridge door, pulling out a bottle of water and cracking the top open as i raise it to my lips, feeling the sweet cool sensation of the liquid as it runs down my throat and my breathing starts coming back to normal levels.
My thoughts run around inside my head, about the plans laid out for the next few weeks, about the next steps, about Kahlan. We hadn't spoken since the night i'd taken care of her in my hotel room, and we'd parted like we did every morning, with a kiss and a goodbye, as if it was completely natural what we were doing, as if was inevitable we were going to do it again and it was only a matter of time.
And it was, there was no doubting that. Every night was the same, except for the last two when Kahlan had to have one of her "anger sessions" with the woman that was controlling her like a puppet master, and last night when i went to a house show to beat some wrestling legend from the independent circuit trying out for a spot in the top wrestling company in the world.
That night had been special, it'd been the first time my inner sense of longing had kicked in and i had taken care of her like i would myself, as if i owned her. It was partially out of my control, but partially to keep putting thoughts in her head. After all, i always have a plan. And this one is working perfectly.
As i feel the water run down my throat i raise it to my hair and pour the remaining contents through my short hair, shaking my head side to side as i attempt to spread the water evenly to remove the sweat. The short hair was much improved from my old long hair, and even though people mock the blonde tip i like it, running my hand through my hair as i feel the coolness of the water run through my fingers.
As the song finishes i suddenly feel a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist and a chin rest against my shoulder. I smile, usually i was the one sneaking up on people, looks like she's been learning at least something off of me.
"Surprise you did I Punk?" Bliss's voice comes through my left ear as i pull out the headphones and turn around, pulling the Goddess into a passionate kiss and we move towards the bedroom door, Bliss pulling it open as we start towards the bed but i stop her.
"You know, you never did thank me for taking care of you the other night..." I say, giving her an arrogant smirk.
"What, my dark night wants some gratitude?" She says, mocking me. Her eyes are still looking at me with hesitation, as if she's still trying to figure me out.
"You always like calling me that, don't you?"
"Well, you like being called it." She says, smirking as she presses her lips to my cheek and move to her neck, slowly moving my way up, only pausing when i get to her cheek as i hear a knocking at the door.
"I should've known that the first time you got here early things something would fuck it up." I say, pushing her away softly as i move to the bedroom door and and walk towards the front door, pulling the heavy white wooden door open as i see the vision of a tiny little porky man appear before my eyes.
"Fuck not you again." I say, shutting the door behind me as i pull on the jacket i took from the back of the couch, noticing it's my wrestling jacket, now with an AoA symbol on it - a crucifix with a snake wrapped around it.
"Ummm, Hi there Mr. Hunter." Tim Bowers says, noting my lack of clothing and my hair drowned in sweat obviously making the scene a bit awkward for him.
"What the hell do you want Bowers?" I say, wiping some sweat off my brow before i cut him off. "Actually i know exactly what you want, and fine. You've got five minutes." I say, waiting for him to activate the tape recorder i spot in his pocket.
"Oh, oh okay thank you...i mean of course thanks for doing this Mr. Hunter."
"Get on with it Bowers!" I grunt, leaning back on the door.
"Okay, so this week you will go one on one with one of the big up-and-coming stars in Millennium Pro Wrestling-"
"Punk Wrestling. It's Millennium PUNK Wrestling Tim." I say matter-of-factly.
"Um, okay, Millennium Punk Wrestling. He's been wanting this match for weeks now, and he's going to Road To Glory to face Trey Baxter in an I-Quit match, so obviously he has some momentum-" I cut him off, i can't listen to any more of his incessant ramblings about a movie star.
"Blah blah blah. You're worse than Tristan himself. He is one person that seems to be unable to shut his mouth. His arrogance rivals that of even my own, and if he didn't have his head so far up his ass he can see what his mother fed him for breakfast this morning, he might even say something with even the tiniest bit of intelligence."
"But i wouldn't bet on it, so i'm just going to say one word to describe Mr. THE. Or is it Mr. Slater? Hell, it could be Mr. Ridonculous for all i care. I don't need a name to know who Tristan Slater is. I already know. He's a diva."
"Think about the facts. His nickname is THE. Seriously? You have millions of words in the English language and you pick THE? You may as well have just picked the letter Q, it would certainly be more unique. I'd rather say the letter Q before somebody name than having to cater to such an incredibly daft ego."
"Slater, you're nothing but a diva. A meaningless pet to your own spastic ego and a complete and total jackass who can't see when he's completely and totally out of his depth. You keep asking for a match with me, just because i beat your ass in the Army of One rumble, just like i beat twenty-eight others' ass. Don't flatter yourself, dickhead. You're nothing special. You're just a diva with a bad haircut, you look like a movie star and act like it to, and at the end of the day, you're nothing, never will be."
"So Slater, have fun in your fifteen seconds of fame, although this match probably won't take as long as that. Of course, you'll have the time when i've laid you out on the mat with a Devil's Reckoning."
"Drake, what's that?" Tim interrupts.
"You''ll see Timmy boy. And who knows, maybe this is Tristan's Day of Reckoning..." I say, pushing him away from me as i open the door and step back into my condo, pulling my jacket off and throwing it somewhere vaguely near the couch as i open the bedroom door and see that Bliss is in the lingerie i sent her, posing on my bed.
The image stops me in my tracks, leaving me speechless for a moment before i climb onto the bed and lie down next to her, the sweat still sticking to my body.
"What was that about" She asks, resting her head against my chest. I'm not sure what this girl is doing to me, or why i'm always wanting her to stay one more minute of each night, always thinking of her when i sleep, and even when i'm not.
"Good ol' Timmy Bowers wanted a word on this week's match." I say, rubbing my head against the pillow.
"What, with the drama queen?" Bliss says, looking up at me with those eyes, those beautiful, entrancing eyes.
"Yeah." I say. "What kind of a nickname is The? He's a bigger diva than Laura." I say, earning a small laugh from Bliss.
"Drake, let me in on something here." Bliss says, suddenly becoming serious. "Do you really believe in this stuff about a revolution, or is it just for the publicity, just to make a name for yourself?" The question takes me by surprise - not that i can't answer it, but that she would ask it. She never got business involved with our little sessions.
"Kahlan, if i didn't believe in what I said, then none of this would be as far into progress as it is now. Wheels are spinning, everything is in motion. The plan is working, and every single thing i do now has been spinning through my head countless times. This isn't just some gimmick. This isn't some random idea that i did to pick up headlines." I say, knowing that there are thoughts running through her mind that are making her confused, her feelings spinning around as she tries to dissemble my words, to find some truth in them.
"What we are creating now is unstoppable. There is a storm coming, and nobody in this business is going to be able to stop it. We are bringing a revolution to MPW, and believe me Kahlan when i say that we will not stop until this company is ridden of it's corporate vice grip."
"But why? What do you possibly have to gain out of a revolution, why save everybody else?"
"It's much more complicated than saving everybody. In the end who benefits most from this revolution? Who gains all the power from this? Who do you reckon would be credited as a leader of the new order. Who gained all the power from the French revolution? From the American?"
I see a flicker of recognition light up in her eyes as she lifts her head off my chest and looks at me. She's being surprisingly comfortable around me - usually it was straight into the....activities....when it she came through my hotel room door. But tonight was nice, it was nice to take advantage of that little bit more time.
"The leaders...." She says, looking at me with that glance of almost fear, she knows that i'm unpredictable and that i've got no remorse. But she was the first one who accepted that and almost appreciated it, almost seemed to like that part of me. Maybe crazy people were suited for each other....
"Exactly." I say, letting the word hang in the air for a short while. "The leaders. We are leading a revolution, and at the end of the day we will be standing on top of the mountain, watching all the world crumble beneath our feet. And guess what Kahlan? Then we'll have the power. Not Johnny, not the people. Us." She looks as if she understands for a moment, but then simply smirks.
"It's all a big waste of time if you ask me. What's the point of saving everybody else? There's only one person who matters in my world. Me."
I smile at her words. She's defiant to the very end, one of the thing's i'm growing to like about her.
"Defiant to the end, aren't you Goddess?" I say.
"I''m not falling for you and your schemes, Hunter. Let me get this straight. This has nothing to do with business, hell, it should've been over two days ago." She says, but i can see the doubt in her eyes. Suddenly we had moved back to our little ongoing banter that was inevitable in these sessions.
"No, that's where you're wrong. You never wanted this over, and you know it. You can't live without me." I say, chuckling that arrogant laugh. She gets off the bed and looks down at me, but i can't take her seriously in that clothing - or rather lack of clothing.
I kiss her forehead and hold her close, as if she was mine, as if our activities made her somehow mine. I still feel the sweat stick to my body as i pull Bliss to her feet, pulling her towards the bathroom. She smirks compliantly, as i drag her into the bathroom.
"Where are we going?" She asks.
"Shower. I still need to get rid of all this sweat. Even if it'll probably all come back in a few hours." I wink at her and she smiles a restrained smile, knowing that what she's got herself into was inevitable.
Well, the Goddess beckons. This week, all that will beckon for Tristan Slater.
Is the Devil's Reckoning.