Post by darkdisciple on Oct 31, 2012 22:55:49 GMT -5
A chilly wind blew by, causing me to shudder slightly as I leaned against the Ford. Halloween afternoon. The sun had just started to slowly descend under the horizon. My patience was starting to fade as another gust cut through the cotton t-shirt of my Heavy costume.
“Come on! We’ve got to get going! Are you ready yet?”
The smug grin of Sir Cunningham popped around the front door of the house.
“Almost, just misplaced the lass’ cap. She’ll be out in a tick!”
I sighed as the grin disappeared again into the warmth and comfort of the house. The last time I had gone trick or treating I had been a twelve year old dressed up as Sub Zero from Mortal Kombat. As far as taking Annie out, I hadn’t been enthusiastic about it, but Alice was out working at the studio, and Nigel had wanted to stay at home and “give the little dibbuns their goodies” so I wasn’t given much of a choice. To make things more stressful, I had also agreed to do an interview with Jay Wyatt over my match tomorrow. I wasn’t exactly overjoyed to have yet another opportunity to have to explain my losing streak, but I wasn’t about to go silent before a match against Chris Cable.
I glanced back at the trunk. A couple of “party favors” were stashed in a paper bag back there for Chicken’s party later on. I was really looking forward to heading over there afterwards. Ever since I had left my old tag partner Richie behind in the WWC, I hadn’t really gotten to know anyone I worked with all that well. A party like this would be a great chance to meet some of the people in MPW, maybe even find someone who would be a future tag partner, though that was hardly what I was going there for. Still, somewhere back home I knew Tina and Kami had a trophy case with all four of my commemorative WWC tag titles, and the actual NYCCW Tag title, along with my handful of singles titles. The thought that I had been less than perfect in singles competition kept bothering me. If I needed to head back to Tag competition I would, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
That tangent had led me back to Chris Cable. My opponent, and indeed, what could be considered my rival of sorts. We had started our American careers in the same place, within a week of each other. There were no secrets going into this match for either of us. For me it was avoid Chris’s elbow, for him, don’t let Kried get you tied up. We both knew each other. We had fought constantly across our careers. We had traded victories in both singles and tag matches, and we had earned each others’ respect. That didn’t change the fact I was going to beat him on Thursday, nor would I be satisfied just beating him. He and Drake were asking for it, and I was ready to stand up and fight.
My concentration leapt back to the plane of reality as the door swung open and Annie came trotting out, touting a plastic bag in one hand, and a boomerang in the other. I couldn’t help but sigh.
“Really? This? This is what you’re wearing?”
She glanced down at the khaki safari vest and cargo pants. She glared at me and adjusted the outbacker hat on her head.
“Oy, eyou got a pro’lem wi’ it mate? Well yu kin jes’staffit roight.”
The fact that it was probably the worst Australian accent I had ever heard wasn’t helped by her own British dialect. I stared back at her, her face was pinched with offense as she glared into my eyes angrily. Finally, I broke off, rolling my eyes as I opened the backseat door for her. She hopped in, forgetting my sin of questioning her attire, and instead beginning to amuse herself by prattling along in her false Australian.
I shook my head, trying to hide a smile as I began to drive. It wasn’t long before a question was directed at me.
“So whe’ we off ta mate?”
“I need to make a stop at the MPW Headquarters. I’ve got an interview to do there. Then we’ll go ahead and head out to the suburb.”
“Wha!? Interview? Come offa Fosters mate! How’s a gel like me sapossed ta gerroffa meh vegemite wen yore tha one pullin’ tha lackadaisy routine roight?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you just said… like seriously, not one word. But I swear it won’t take long. I’m going to answer a few questions, then get out of there. You can just sit in the lobby and read a magazine or something.”
“Kin’t read”
You don’t need to be able to read to read a magazine, look at the pictures and guess, that’s what they do to write it anyways.”
Pulling up to the dark and solemn building, I opened the door for her, and followed as she grabbed my hand and ran for the door, clearly eager to get this over with. I left her in the lobby, the secretary cooing over her and giving her chocolates, and I headed into one of the interview rooms. Jay Wyatt was waiting for me. He grinned as I entered, then motioned to a chair as he kept looking over some notes as a make-up girl busied herself making him look presentable. I waved the other girl off, a gesture she responded to by smacking some powder in my face anyways, but she left me alone other than that. Finally Jay sat down and took one final look at his cards before glancing at me.
“You ready tough guy?”
I nodded, he in turn nodded to the cameraman, who nodded to the producer, who nodded back at the cameraman, who began recording.
Jay Wyatt: I’m here with Apostle Kried, who will face off one on one against Chris Cable tomorrow in a tables match. Kried, first off, I’ve got to get your thoughts on yet another loss last week.
Apostle Kried: Yet another loss that I was not responsible for Jay, Cable and Drake made their point clear, if they needed to cost me a match to get it across, so be it. It’s in the past, and I’m not going to dwell on it.
Jay Wyatt: But Laura the referee of that match was clearly biased in your favor, surely you must agree Cable and Hunter were only making things fair?
Apostle Kried: She counted the pin, didn’t she?
Jay Wyatt: Well yes, albeit slowly.
Apostle Kried: Slow or not, she clearly wasn’t biased enough to keep Clash from winning off of Drake and Cable’s little show. I’ll take care of Cable, and I’ll take care of Drake if that’s what I have to do to keep them out of my way.
Jay Wyatt: Speaking of Cable, you have a match upcoming, tomorrow actually, against him, it’s a tables match, what kind of strategy do you need to take with you going into these kinds of matches?
Apostle Kried: Look, I hate gimmick matches. Give me a standard one on one duel anyday. But my wishes don’t change the fact that these kinds of matches are a part of the culture of pro wrestling. I’ve had to deal with tables matches before, and us big guys are at a disadvantage. It takes far less to put me through a table than it’s going to take to send Chris through one, but like I said, I’m used to these sorts of matches, and I have a few methods I’ve used in the past to get the job done. The trick is finding out which one is the right one to beat Chris Cable. Cable and I have been competing against each other for as long as I can remember, we know each other so well, it should be a great match. I’ve got a couple of new tricks up my sleeve, I’m sure he’s the same way. I can’t wait.
Jay Wyatt: Alright, so, should you win tonight, everyone assumes Drake Hunter would be next on your list?
Apostle Kried: Well, you know… like I said earlier, if Drake wants to keep getting in my way, then sooner or later I’m going to have to deal with him. Cable is completely right about Drake, he is just as smart as he is a smart-ass, but being smart doesn’t make you great. Being smart, and being driven is what makes you great. And Drake and Cable are lost when it comes to what drives them. They seem to think that by willing yourself to be the best, you become the best. That’s not it. It’s what drives you, that deep thing you hold in your heart, that thing you think about when you’re locked in the most painful submission you’ve ever felt, that image that flashes in your mind just before the three count, that thing that gives you the will, the strength, the heart to kick out, or to reach out and grab that rope. I don’t see anything like that when I look at Chris Cable.
Jay Wyatt: Then, what drives Apostle Kried?
There is a long pause. Kried appears deep in thought. He slowly raises an arm and flashes the name of his sister tattooed on his bicep.
“Not this.”
He raises his other arm, showing his other sister’s name.
“Not this.”
He places his finger to the memorial tattoo for his parents on his chest.
“Not even this.”
He pauses again, then slowly moves his hand until it is pointing directly at his face.
“I do it for this. For me. Because if I fail here, then I’ve failed at the only thing I’ve ever done because I’ve loved to do it. I’ve done so much for them.” He motions again to the art covering his body “but this is what I’ve done because of myself. And if I lose this, then I lose what defines me, what makes me who I am, and I couldn’t ever live without it.”
The camera cuts off on the directors cue, and the lights rise gently as Jay shakes my hand.
“Thanks a lot for that Kried, nice strong ending. Good luck tomorrow.”
I nod my goodbyes and head back out to the lobby. Annie has somehow managed to enchant the entire floor of writers, bookers, and tech nerds. They’ve surrounded her, laughing at everything she says as though she were some world famous comedian. It takes me a while to get her away from them all, even as we walk out the door they keep showering her in compliments and candy.
As I helped her into the car, she held up her plastic bag, now stuffed full of more candy then I had ever gathered on a single Halloween in my youth. She smiled proudly, then yawned.
“I think maybe we should head home”
Her eyes were already starting to flutter; obviously she had been burned out by the spotlight. As I began the drive back, I smiled again as I heard her gentle snoring. So maybe it hadn’t been conventional trick or treating, but at least I wouldn’t be late for Chicken’s party, and she still got the candy. Tonight would be a good Halloween, but tomorrow is when the challenge really began. After all, if I wanted to win the No-Shave November best beard contest, I needed to catch up with Jake Cage, Primal, and Ms. Biguns… and of course, I had to put Chris Cable through a table, but why worry about that? That was tomorrow, tonight was going to be a party!
“Come on! We’ve got to get going! Are you ready yet?”
The smug grin of Sir Cunningham popped around the front door of the house.
“Almost, just misplaced the lass’ cap. She’ll be out in a tick!”
I sighed as the grin disappeared again into the warmth and comfort of the house. The last time I had gone trick or treating I had been a twelve year old dressed up as Sub Zero from Mortal Kombat. As far as taking Annie out, I hadn’t been enthusiastic about it, but Alice was out working at the studio, and Nigel had wanted to stay at home and “give the little dibbuns their goodies” so I wasn’t given much of a choice. To make things more stressful, I had also agreed to do an interview with Jay Wyatt over my match tomorrow. I wasn’t exactly overjoyed to have yet another opportunity to have to explain my losing streak, but I wasn’t about to go silent before a match against Chris Cable.
I glanced back at the trunk. A couple of “party favors” were stashed in a paper bag back there for Chicken’s party later on. I was really looking forward to heading over there afterwards. Ever since I had left my old tag partner Richie behind in the WWC, I hadn’t really gotten to know anyone I worked with all that well. A party like this would be a great chance to meet some of the people in MPW, maybe even find someone who would be a future tag partner, though that was hardly what I was going there for. Still, somewhere back home I knew Tina and Kami had a trophy case with all four of my commemorative WWC tag titles, and the actual NYCCW Tag title, along with my handful of singles titles. The thought that I had been less than perfect in singles competition kept bothering me. If I needed to head back to Tag competition I would, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
That tangent had led me back to Chris Cable. My opponent, and indeed, what could be considered my rival of sorts. We had started our American careers in the same place, within a week of each other. There were no secrets going into this match for either of us. For me it was avoid Chris’s elbow, for him, don’t let Kried get you tied up. We both knew each other. We had fought constantly across our careers. We had traded victories in both singles and tag matches, and we had earned each others’ respect. That didn’t change the fact I was going to beat him on Thursday, nor would I be satisfied just beating him. He and Drake were asking for it, and I was ready to stand up and fight.
My concentration leapt back to the plane of reality as the door swung open and Annie came trotting out, touting a plastic bag in one hand, and a boomerang in the other. I couldn’t help but sigh.
“Really? This? This is what you’re wearing?”
She glanced down at the khaki safari vest and cargo pants. She glared at me and adjusted the outbacker hat on her head.
“Oy, eyou got a pro’lem wi’ it mate? Well yu kin jes’staffit roight.”
The fact that it was probably the worst Australian accent I had ever heard wasn’t helped by her own British dialect. I stared back at her, her face was pinched with offense as she glared into my eyes angrily. Finally, I broke off, rolling my eyes as I opened the backseat door for her. She hopped in, forgetting my sin of questioning her attire, and instead beginning to amuse herself by prattling along in her false Australian.
I shook my head, trying to hide a smile as I began to drive. It wasn’t long before a question was directed at me.
“So whe’ we off ta mate?”
“I need to make a stop at the MPW Headquarters. I’ve got an interview to do there. Then we’ll go ahead and head out to the suburb.”
“Wha!? Interview? Come offa Fosters mate! How’s a gel like me sapossed ta gerroffa meh vegemite wen yore tha one pullin’ tha lackadaisy routine roight?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you just said… like seriously, not one word. But I swear it won’t take long. I’m going to answer a few questions, then get out of there. You can just sit in the lobby and read a magazine or something.”
“Kin’t read”
You don’t need to be able to read to read a magazine, look at the pictures and guess, that’s what they do to write it anyways.”
Pulling up to the dark and solemn building, I opened the door for her, and followed as she grabbed my hand and ran for the door, clearly eager to get this over with. I left her in the lobby, the secretary cooing over her and giving her chocolates, and I headed into one of the interview rooms. Jay Wyatt was waiting for me. He grinned as I entered, then motioned to a chair as he kept looking over some notes as a make-up girl busied herself making him look presentable. I waved the other girl off, a gesture she responded to by smacking some powder in my face anyways, but she left me alone other than that. Finally Jay sat down and took one final look at his cards before glancing at me.
“You ready tough guy?”
I nodded, he in turn nodded to the cameraman, who nodded to the producer, who nodded back at the cameraman, who began recording.
Jay Wyatt: I’m here with Apostle Kried, who will face off one on one against Chris Cable tomorrow in a tables match. Kried, first off, I’ve got to get your thoughts on yet another loss last week.
Apostle Kried: Yet another loss that I was not responsible for Jay, Cable and Drake made their point clear, if they needed to cost me a match to get it across, so be it. It’s in the past, and I’m not going to dwell on it.
Jay Wyatt: But Laura the referee of that match was clearly biased in your favor, surely you must agree Cable and Hunter were only making things fair?
Apostle Kried: She counted the pin, didn’t she?
Jay Wyatt: Well yes, albeit slowly.
Apostle Kried: Slow or not, she clearly wasn’t biased enough to keep Clash from winning off of Drake and Cable’s little show. I’ll take care of Cable, and I’ll take care of Drake if that’s what I have to do to keep them out of my way.
Jay Wyatt: Speaking of Cable, you have a match upcoming, tomorrow actually, against him, it’s a tables match, what kind of strategy do you need to take with you going into these kinds of matches?
Apostle Kried: Look, I hate gimmick matches. Give me a standard one on one duel anyday. But my wishes don’t change the fact that these kinds of matches are a part of the culture of pro wrestling. I’ve had to deal with tables matches before, and us big guys are at a disadvantage. It takes far less to put me through a table than it’s going to take to send Chris through one, but like I said, I’m used to these sorts of matches, and I have a few methods I’ve used in the past to get the job done. The trick is finding out which one is the right one to beat Chris Cable. Cable and I have been competing against each other for as long as I can remember, we know each other so well, it should be a great match. I’ve got a couple of new tricks up my sleeve, I’m sure he’s the same way. I can’t wait.
Jay Wyatt: Alright, so, should you win tonight, everyone assumes Drake Hunter would be next on your list?
Apostle Kried: Well, you know… like I said earlier, if Drake wants to keep getting in my way, then sooner or later I’m going to have to deal with him. Cable is completely right about Drake, he is just as smart as he is a smart-ass, but being smart doesn’t make you great. Being smart, and being driven is what makes you great. And Drake and Cable are lost when it comes to what drives them. They seem to think that by willing yourself to be the best, you become the best. That’s not it. It’s what drives you, that deep thing you hold in your heart, that thing you think about when you’re locked in the most painful submission you’ve ever felt, that image that flashes in your mind just before the three count, that thing that gives you the will, the strength, the heart to kick out, or to reach out and grab that rope. I don’t see anything like that when I look at Chris Cable.
Jay Wyatt: Then, what drives Apostle Kried?
There is a long pause. Kried appears deep in thought. He slowly raises an arm and flashes the name of his sister tattooed on his bicep.
“Not this.”
He raises his other arm, showing his other sister’s name.
“Not this.”
He places his finger to the memorial tattoo for his parents on his chest.
“Not even this.”
He pauses again, then slowly moves his hand until it is pointing directly at his face.
“I do it for this. For me. Because if I fail here, then I’ve failed at the only thing I’ve ever done because I’ve loved to do it. I’ve done so much for them.” He motions again to the art covering his body “but this is what I’ve done because of myself. And if I lose this, then I lose what defines me, what makes me who I am, and I couldn’t ever live without it.”
The camera cuts off on the directors cue, and the lights rise gently as Jay shakes my hand.
“Thanks a lot for that Kried, nice strong ending. Good luck tomorrow.”
I nod my goodbyes and head back out to the lobby. Annie has somehow managed to enchant the entire floor of writers, bookers, and tech nerds. They’ve surrounded her, laughing at everything she says as though she were some world famous comedian. It takes me a while to get her away from them all, even as we walk out the door they keep showering her in compliments and candy.
As I helped her into the car, she held up her plastic bag, now stuffed full of more candy then I had ever gathered on a single Halloween in my youth. She smiled proudly, then yawned.
“I think maybe we should head home”
Her eyes were already starting to flutter; obviously she had been burned out by the spotlight. As I began the drive back, I smiled again as I heard her gentle snoring. So maybe it hadn’t been conventional trick or treating, but at least I wouldn’t be late for Chicken’s party, and she still got the candy. Tonight would be a good Halloween, but tomorrow is when the challenge really began. After all, if I wanted to win the No-Shave November best beard contest, I needed to catch up with Jake Cage, Primal, and Ms. Biguns… and of course, I had to put Chris Cable through a table, but why worry about that? That was tomorrow, tonight was going to be a party!
