Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2013 21:06:12 GMT -5
[Located in downtown Atlanta sits a dirty bar named "Through the Uprights". From the outside it looks far from a family establishment with it's darkened windows, faded green and yellow neon signs and almost colorless sign hanging over an old wooden door with chipping paint. Anyone with decency would fell the need for a shower after simply looking at this place. Standing outside looking rather uncomfortable is MPW's own Tim Bowers. He pulls a digital voice recorder out of the pocket of his clean and pressed khaki pants and after checking it over places it back. He walks up to the large, clean cut bouncer standing outside dressed in all black and after a chuckle and a shrug by the hulking man, Tim walks into the bar, immediately assaulted by loud music. Specifically "Turn it Up" by Texas Hippie Coalition.
Let's forget about Tim for a second and point our attention to the blonde man currently raising drunken hell all across the bar that we can now plainly see is a strip club. On small platforms all over the bar scandalous woman strut and dance on polls and their knees and their backs, dollar bills scattered around them and dirty men hooting and hollering. None of these men are making nearly as much noise as the one we are focused on. Who is he you ask? Well it's Mike Savage of course. Why else would you think Tim Bowers would be here? On second thought, don't answer that.
Dressed in a plain grey shirt, jeans and black shoes, Mike jumps on top of one of the girl's stages, shoving the girl ( a lonely looking brunette ) off. Mike raises the beer in his hand and shouts out.]
Mike: "WOOOO! PARRRTAY!"
[As Mike goes about his business we shift back to Tim who is slowly picking his way across the club to the stage with Mike on it. As he does he shouts up to Mike and is ignored. Mike continues his one man party until, in a desperate attempt, Tim climbs up onto the stage and taps Mike on the shoulder.]
Mike: (Turning, surprised) "Tim Bowers! What are you doing here?!"
Tim: "Trying to get an interview, Mr. Savage. What are you doing here?"
Mike: "Celebrating!"
Tim: (Puzzled) "Celebrating what?"
Mike: "The end of my MPW career! What else would I celebrate? My win loss record?!"
Tim: (A little shocked) "What do you mean the end of your MPW career?"
Mike: "After this week it'll be done and over with! Moving on so to speak. More like moving down if you ask me but whatever!"
Tim: "You have to explain this! Can I get an interview about this?"
Mike: "Really? Right now? You interviewers are such buzz killers! Fine. Meet me outside in ten. I have to pay my tab."
[Mike jumps off of the stage and walks over towards the bar while Tim slowly climbs down and walks back outside. Twenty minutes later Mike walks outside himself and begins walking up the street, the opposite direction of where Tim is standing. Noticing this, Tim runs to catch up.]
Tim: "Mr. Savage! Where are you going? You said I could get an interview!"
[Mike stops walking and turns to face Tim with a look of surprise.]
Mike: "Oops! Sorry Timmy! Thought I saw Johnny Clash in there but it turned out to be just some other loser with a bad beard and haircut. Anywho long story short I got sidetracked and forgot all about you."
Tim: "Well can I still get my interview?
Mike: "Don;t see why not."
Tim: (Flicking on his recorder) "Great. Now Mike, in every match you've had since your debut you have lost. Now you told not long ago that this Thursday will be your last outing in MPW. Does that have anything to do with your losses? Are you in fact quitting?"
Mike: "Timbow, although it is true that I've done nothing but loose here in MPW but it does not, i repeat does NOT have anything to do with me leaving and no I'm not quitting. In fact it's not even my choice."
Tim: "I don't think I understand."
Mike: "Of course you don't. You see, it seems as though the powers that be have decided to send me back to what most of us in the business call 'developmental'. That meaning they are sending away from MPW and down to WWO for a little character building. It's not what I want at all. It feels like I'm being fucked over sideways but there's nothing I can do. It's either drop myself down to the level of a bunch of schmucks or be unemployed."
Tim: "Wow. That's....unexpected."
Mike: "Tell me something I don't know."
Tim: "Well then it seems that your last match is going to be against Emi Yamamoto. Thoughts on that?"
Mike: "To me, Timothy, that little Emi tart remidns me of those strippers in that club we were just in. Dumb, lonely and immature with extreme personal issues. I mean have you seen the way the bitch just zones out randomly? It's like she goes to some weird fantasy world filled with genies, harpies, giants and magic bums. It's flat out creepy."
Tim: "How do you feel about fighting a woman?"
Mike: "I don't have a problem with it. I mean I had two matches with Lucas King didn't I? Tim Bowers, when it comes to that ring it doesn't matter whether you're male, female, he/she, straight, gay, bisexual, black, white, Asian, Mexican, Lebanese, or a God damn weird little wannabe power ranger crossed with a Japanese school girl nice tits. All that matters to me is who is with em and who is against me. Nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't matter that I hang around strip clubs and bring women back to my locker room because at the end of the day I, Mike FREKAIN Savage, am one hundred percent committed to this business and not one loos, two losses or a thousand losses can change that. People can have whatever opinions they want about me and my methods but it doesn't matter. Why? Because I am Mike Savage and here there are no...fucks....given."
[With that, Mike walks away from Tim. The next day he awakes inside his small yet nice apartment with a splitting headache and a hangover. He slunks to the kitchen and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. He reaches out for the pot but catches nothing but air. He looks and with surprise he shouts.]
Mike: "SONOFABITCH! WHO STOLE MY COFFEE POT?!"