Post by MasterEvil on Jan 29, 2012 18:43:37 GMT
I sit alone in one of these locker rooms inside this arena in Miami, mentally preparing myself for the Survive & Conquer match. Nobody wanted to say hello to me, not even any of the fellow representatives of World Elite Wrestling, but I don’t care; I’ve gotten used to this feeling of disappointment a long time ago. But right now I should be focused on the task at hand. The match has already started but since I drew #73 I have to wait a long time just to enter the match…technically there isn’t any advantage to anyone drawing #86 or #1, the earlier you start the more tired you’ll be later on but the later you join the less motivated you’ll be. This actually makes this kind of match unpredictable with no favourites at all. But before I could switch on the monitor, which has been built into the wall, to watch the possess of the others…my door knocked, who the hell could it be? Before I could even say anything the door swung open and the person knocking entered…Hundro Kaladze.
Hundro: Hello Jericho, pleased to me aren’t you?
TBS: Fuck no I ain’t.
The tone of my voice was venomous has my words were rude. I don’t give a damn if I offend this “Legal Attorney of World Elite Wrestling” or not, I was mentally preparing myself to the biggest match of my career. At least with him being here, he’ll tell me what I want to know…but before I could ask, guess what? He spoke up to prevent me from speaking.
Hundro: I know what you are wondering, why am I wasting my time in such a filthy arena? The first reason isn’t important but the second reason is the main reason why I cancelled my flight. I know tonight you got some match you consider to be “self-redeeming” but you better not waste your time at the local nightclub since, tomorrow night, you have a match on Burnout against Christopher Noir…in Tokyo Japan.
WHAT!?! Is he fucking seriously!?! Why!?! Does he even know how long it takes to get from Miami to Tokyo? It would take me hours at the very least, hell, I won’t be in the right mental condition to wrestle!
Hundro: Don’t even think about claiming that the company did this to screw you, even though I admit I really it does screw you. You aren’t the only person to have been informed this, I already texted the information to both Vantage and Sophie Oliveria, even the time of the next available flight to Tokyo.
TBS: But those two are Champions battling on Animosity…your decreeing that I must tire my, possibly battered, body with a long flight to Tokyo just to wrestle on some non-televised pre-show against somebody who never once appeared on the main show. How is this fair within the very least?
Hundro: I’m mainly here to tell you pass on a message, not to answer some idiot’s question. And if you think it is really unfair then just say the word and I’ll text Alakai about your resignation.
Those words struck me like bullets, I don’t want to leave…ever. All I want to a reason to why I got demoted without any warning, all I want is to wrestle on Animosity…all I want is actually mean something to this damn company. But right now Hundro has reminded me how easy it is to leave, to give up…to surrender to those against me. I felt mentally lost in both motivation and purpose yet the absolute worse thing about this is that Hundro damn well knows this, evidenced by his smug smile. I still haven’t forgotten my thirst to actually punch him in between those bloody eyes and rip his teeth out one at a time.
Hundro: Now for the not so important reason, to clarify your position within the roster…I guess that’s what you’ve been desperate to know. You…
Before this attorney could actually give me what I bloody well want, his mobile phone began to ring. Normally a decent person would say excuse me and answer the phone or ignore it and continue to speak…but instead his left hand went into his pocket and pulled out the phone, and placed it next to his ear, while the palm of this guy’s right hand pointed directly at me. Damn bastard didn’t even have the decency of asking to be excused. All I could get from his conservation was “yes,” “aha” and “okay” exiting his lips numerous times before he finished his conversation and put the phone away. Finally I get time for him to explain why people like me and Christopher Noir are being made to suffer in obscurity unlike those known has Chris Cane and Jaxson Baxter.
Hundro: Change of plans, something important has showed up, I’ll tell you at another time.
TBS: What the fuck! Wait a goddamn minute! I’ve been waiting for a long time to understand why the hell I’ve been dropped, and you’re planning to keep me in the dark for even longer, why?
These words seem to have fallen on death ears, or upon a pair of ears that doesn’t give a damn about what I feel, has Hundro didn’t even bat an eyelid towards me and made his way out of the room. Bloody git, now I am made to wait even longer for the truth I desire so badly. But what to do now while I wait? For one I’ve switched the monitor on to find out that entrant number eighteen, WEW representative Giselle Stratton, has just entered the match. Fifty-four odd competitors to go then…I guess I can cut a short promo to give myself something to exactly do. So I pulled out the “missing” WEW camera from below the seat I was sitting on and switched it on before having its lens facing directly at me…afterwards I pressed the record button and began my little promo against mister Noir.
TBS: To be or not to be, that is the question. To be wasted away into nothing, or to surrender my hopes and dreams. I don’t know a lot but I do know a little Shakespearian…just like I know that while we wrestle on Burnout yet again, others simply need to get along with certain people to receive automatic spots on television…talent seem to ignored over drama and other pieces of bullshit. But that is shows like Animosity and Adrenaline, this is simply Burnout…a simple place where people are suppose to go to develop before getting placed on TV, but instead becomes its own brand of those that have been ignored or forgotten…no more of this hypocrisy, I’ve had enough and I will do something about it.
What will I do about it? I’m not fully sure yet but I’m bound to have something planned by next week, hopefully. Yet for now I am putting only a fragment of my thoughts into this promo, the rest into the match I’ll take part in soon enough.
TBS: But for tomorrow me and you, Christopher Noir, have a confrontation between two of the longest staying residences in the pre-show known has Burnout. And since you claim to aim for some “Poetic Justice, I’ll crack out a poem just for you…
Twenty-four hours, and it shall be time,
Twenty-four hours, for this battle between the likes,
Twenty-four hours, of just me and you,
Twenty-four hours, a Broken Saint and a poet.
You may possess the advantage from my weariness,
For I have to go from west to east in under a night,
After such a brutal war known as Survive & Conquer,
But I will never back down, neither will I surrender.
You have won before with your “To Tap or Not To Tap,”
But I prefer to live on the words “To Risk or Not To Risk,”
Even though it might be smarter to not risk my health,
I'll take flight to gain victory from the fangs of defeat.
Tomorrow on Burnout, may we go to war and steal the show,
No matter how unimportant this pre-show is,
“A great way to make yourself known,” those words are nothing but lies,
But I'll give the crowd a show that nobody at home are lucky enough to witness,
I wish you luck Noir but I shall win and become remembered,
I'm The Broken Saint...break me! I don't care.
Once I’ve spoken my shakespearean sonnet I pressed the stop button, the promo might of been short but throughout what has happpened number fifty-two, Dan Quinn, has just entered the match. So much I have missed and not too long to wait for my entry now...so I switched off the camera and put it back under my seat. How am I suppose to make it to Tokyo in time for my match? Am I even going to be healthy enough to fly off to the land of the rising sun? Will I collapse during the match out of exhaustion? I don’t know the answer and right now I don’t care. While I was stuck in my thoughts GIW's Assassin has just entered the match, the next entrant is me...so I guess its best to switch off the monitor. Once I did that I made my exit out of the room and towards those black curtains, how will I fare tonight? How will I fare tomorrow? I don’t know and neither do I care.