Post by TZ on Feb 12, 2006 17:46:28 GMT -5
In my own little world, I'm the man. Why shouldn't I be? I'm a former WFWF World Champion. I've been the WFWF Television Champion two times. I'm going to be in the Hall of Fame whether anyone likes it, or not. My ego is like a plant; constantly growing, and feeding it self every chance it gets. I've got an ego. I never will deny it. Because, in a sense, I love my ego. Justa Mazing can not live without an ego. That's why I'm very protective of my ego. If it's shot, then I'm shot.
I'm a very self-confident person. Everyone who has had any success in their life is very confident in themselves. If they don't admit so, well, then they're lying. Ask Stuart. A former WFWF Television Champion, a WFWF Hall of Famer. The fans love him, and so does he himself. Stuart loved himself . . . until I came a long. I put such a dent in his ego that he could barely go on. Without it in one hundred percent condition due to me, he was literally dying right before my eyes. Although, I don't want him to die. I maybe many things, but I'm no murderer. I won't suppress from knocking another guy out, though. And, coincidentally, this Sunday at WFWF Fully Charged, that's just exactly what I get to do. Not once, but three times; three very large unrepairable dents in the precious ego of Stuart. After that, he'll be gone. Win, or lose, but most likely lose, he's admitted he's finally, "hanging up his boots". Although, I'm the ever remaining. I don't want to leave. I want to be here forever. I want to be on top forever. I want to face, "new challenges" in my career, in the ring. It just so happens that, when wanting to face new challenges, old "friends" can get in your way, and hinder that impossible. Isn't that right, Michael Kyzer?
Fame, and glory lies on television. Fame, and glory can be accomplished on WFWF Code Red. Fame, and glory can be accomplished on WFWF pay-per-view. I've already been there, done that. I'm one of the most recognizable guys on the entire roster. Needless to say, it's time for a new expedition. Enter WFWF, "house shows".
I've always ridiculed the house show concept. It's just another night we all have to go out there, and put our bodies on the line. But, for what? Absolutely nothing. There aren't any cameras. It isn't live TV. It isn't like pay-per-view. It's just a few odd thousand sitting in a dark arena. I promised myself I'd never take part in something like this. With everything I do, I want to be rewarded in the process. How was this going to reward me? No one was going to see me. It'd just be forgotten about. Although, as I always do, I got to thinking.
The WFWF management had revitalized their take on the house shows. It was more organized, more stable, more professional. Anything that is organized immediately attracts my attention. I began to rethink my views on the concept. I thought so hard, and so long that I began to realize while there might be no cameras, there would be a whole lot for me to gain. I could feed my ego. With a win here, and a win there, I'd take my self-confidence in myself to a new high. My pride would be nourished. I could feed of the house shows.
And, so I went to WFWF management, requesting a match. I knew now what I had to do. I didn't have to wait long to find my opponent. To be honest, I wasn't expecting such an opportunity at a house show. But, I got. And, all the better. Because, beating Michael Kyzer would be extraordinary.
To replenish your broken minds, it was just a few weeks ago when I stepped into the ring with Michael Kyzer for the very first time on Hybrid. I was prepared. After all, the guy had just got back from an extensive break, he'd lost his previous match, how hard could this be? WFWF management being WFWF management, I guess they figured the same. So, stacking the odds against me, they throw in Stuart as the special guest referee. Things have come back to bite in the ass so many times it isn't even funny.
Never the less, for about fifteen minutes, I was in control. Whilst Stu had surely shown to favor to Kyzer, it wasn't holding one bit. I had the damn match won. Remember that Kyzer, I had you pinned in the middle of the ring. Stuart laid out on the ground, courtesy of moi, an impartial WFWF official rushed his way to the ring. Just as that hand was coming down for three, Stuart sprang to life like a teenage boy having a wet dream. He ruined my opportunity to dethrone, "Your Heroin Hero". In the end, due to a whole lot of help from Stuart, Michael Kyzer was victorious. My ego was shot. But, I pulled the bullet. Because, I knew, no matter what the end result of that match might have been, I was the real winner.
I'm sure you've heard the old homage, "good always prevails over evil", Kyzer. Not that I'm saying I'm a goodie-too-shoos by any means, no. Although, compared to you? I'm a f*cking saint. You'll admit it. Your a whore for excess at every single thing you do. We all know it. Michael Kyzer, your the very epitome of "evil". You don't kill, you don't kidnap, you don't rape, but you destroy lives. You destroy people's souls. And, sweet, innocent Elise? Beauty on another level is Elise Cassell. Although, no matter what she wants to believe, your destroying her. Your killing her. She pities you Kyzer. And, you feel that pity? You feel the love, don't you? It weakens you. Your an addict. You don't want to be loved. Peace. Love. Faith. Those three words just have to absolutely send a tingling down your spine, don't they? I know first-hand as I'm sure you've heard. Don't worry, though. My side of things always does what it is right. Peace, love, and faith send a warm, hearty feeling into his veins now. But, you? Your on a road that goes no where, man. And, you're taking Elise with you. Poor, beautiful Elise. How she suffers. All because you. You're the f*cking devil. I hate you Kyzer. F*ck you.
Brilliant is the young day at hand. As the snow drifts from the gray sky above us, it lands onto the ground, grouped with its other fellow snowflakes. The towering trees that occupy the beautiful, snow white park tower over the frozen pond in which several children, and happy couples have taken the liberty of skiing on this fine yet chilly Saturday afternoon. Benches that were once brown have been decorated with the softer, powdery essence of snow. However, many who have now occupied the benches have taken the liberty of sweeping the snow off beforehand. Considering it is below freezing, the sun hides itself behind the gray clouds that can be so pretty, and sometimes dreary. Those walking on the frozen path way that curves in, and out of the frost bitten, and snow covered grass around the trees, and now frozen pond are bundled up with scarves, jackets, and toboggans. Some have even taken the liberty of bringing along their own coffee, or hot chocolate as is seen by the many Starbuck's logos that adorn the cups at hand. While the chattering, and laughing echo through the vibrant park on this wonderful day, there are the few who choose to walk in peace, and alone. However, not these two. As the snow continues to drift down upon the long, brown hair of young man wearing blue jeans, a black, puffy coat, brown tennis shoes, and a tight long sleeve t-shirt, he waves his arms very animated as he raves on about a various subject to the man on his right. Compared to the rather lean individual beside him, this particular male is rather short, shorter than the man beside him, and is rather pudgy. Sporting snow-sprinkled glasses, khakis, a tighter black coat, gloves, and a toboggan, this man here continues to sip whatever liquid lies in his Starbuck's cup, puts his other hand in his pocket, and then cuts off the young man to his right with words of his own.
? ? ?: Of course I understand! It's just that I've apologize countless times over the incident at the cafe, but I always feel you never truly accept my apologies. Don't you remember that I called you on your cell phone, saying sorry countless times just thirty minutes after you left? And, every time I've talked to you since then, no matter where it be, I've done everything I can to let you know I'm sorry. I understand that the schedule, and life you lead is very hard. I mean, look at me. All I do is sit around, sip coffee, eat, read, write, and get fat! You're an active guy, you have to be! But, if I'm willing to understand you, you've got to understand me, know what I mean? The thing is, I just don't think you actually do.
Once he finishes reciting the words he previously recited, the man turns his head to the man to his left. At this point, he has his hands in his coat pockets as well, and is starting straight ahead, his light, blue eyes centered on virtually nothing in particular. His rather tan, smooth face is capped off by a rather strong jaw line. As his accomplice stares at him rather intently, apparently waiting for an answer, he finally speaks.
? ? ?: What's so hard to understand about you, Brian? I understand you completely. After all, like you pointed out, you don't do that much. I just didn't feel you gave me the proper respect after our first few encounters. Now that you've cleaned up your act a bit, treated me ten times better, and given me the respect I so rightfully deserve, sure, I understand you fully. It's just that this book is the story of my life. I can't help, but get the sense you're rushing me when you call me up virtually every hour, wanting to know when the next chapter will be finished. You said it yourself, I'm a busy guy. I don't want to rush this thing. It means a lot to me. When I finish whatever is needed to be finished, don't worry, I'll tell you Miller. It just takes time. I've got other things to do. After all, I am Justa Mazing.
Smiling, Mazing continues to walk, the snow crunching on the stone beneath his feet. His hands still rests in his pockets. Beside him, the man known as Brian Miller passes a trashcan by a tree that was previously blue, but has been turned a snowy white by the current weather conditions. He throws away his Starbuck's coffee as his head slowly tilts to wards the ground in almost apparent shame. He then begins to speak, but his speech is rather slow, and uncomprehendable, almost at a mutter.
Miller: You're right. I guess I have pressured you too much. What, you're on the road almost every day of the week? Then, when you do have down time, you're stuck with me, or you're working on this book. I should give you some space. I thought I understood how hard your life, and career were, but I guess I truly never did, huh?
Mazing nods his head up, and down, looking triumphant.
Miller: So, how's the wrestling thing going?
After this is said, Mazing lets out a slightly delayed laugh which causes Brian to give him a sharp look of utter confusement. Not knowing how to really react, he slightly smiles before Mazing fully answers the question.
Mazing: Things are always going pretty well. I mean, after all, I am living my dream, right? I feel good, I am good, I'm on my back to the top, and things couldn't be better than they are at the moment. Yeah, it'd be nice if I had some gold, but titles aren't everything. After all, the most talented people in the company right now aren't even champions. Of course, I'm a perfect example. Then there's Josh, Tha CBT, Drakz, all of those guys. Plus, the titles don't mean as much as they used to. There's too many, and all the glory they once had has been tarnished, so it's really no big deal. A title just gives you a title, plain, and simple.
Miller bites his lip, looking interested. However, Mazing remains in the same trance, showing no signs of changing anytime soon. Suddenly, Brian pipes up, voicing his own opinion.
Miller: I guess you have a point. I mean, that Kyzer guy -
Although, before Brian can finish, he suddenly stops as he notices the fact that Mazing just violently snapped his head in the direction of Miller, stared him straight in the eyes, and raised his eyebrow a tad. Just as he has done previously, Brian puts his head down, looking at the snow beneath his black shoes, and retorts.
Miller: Erm, sorry, I forgot about -
Once again, Mazing cuts off Brian by shaking his head from side to side, and starting to speak as well.
Mazing: No, don't be sorry. Kyzer's good. Lucky, true, but good. Although, he'll never be a champion. I'd never let a junkie represent the WFWF in such a manner. He'll just always be that addict that no one cares about. Well, except Elise.
With a slightly puzzled look on his face, Miller soaks in these words before speaking himself.
Miller: The girlfriend?
Just as he has already done previously, Mazing takes the time to slightly laugh at this comment before answering the question.
Mazing: If you want to call her that, yeah. It's just a shame someone so beautiful is being wasted on someone so worthless. Maybe she's good for him, I don't know. I don't think anyone, or anything could save Kyzer now. Although, it'd be a shame to see such a promising life ruined by another treacherous act of one Michael Kyzer.
Brian silently opens his mouth to speak, but closes it in due time, no words coming out as was expected. Mazing continues to stare straight a head, stone-faced, taking short strides on the glistening sidewalk garnished with so many flakes of snow as are the surrounding areas. As Brian narrowly avoids a young couple giggling in arm, and arm that almost knock him over as they pass, Mazing breaks the silence that has fallen over both men.
Mazing: After Stuart at the pay-per-view, Kyzer's my next opponent.
Mazing turns his head slightly so that he is now facing, and staring rather resolutely at Brian, seemingly waiting for a response.
Miller: No disrespect meant to you of course, but coming off such an important match, I don't know, don't you think you should take it easy? You already said it yourself, the guy is no walk in the park.
Miller looks as if he is about to cringe as he waits for Mazing's response to what the words he has just spoken.
Mazing: I enjoy a challenge. Besides, you saw the last time I was in the ring with Kyzer, right?
Biting his tongue, Brian slowly nods his head up, and down.
Mazing: Then you know that I've got the match in the bag already. I'm going to take Stuart out at Fully Charged, and come due time for my match with Michael, he won't have anyone left to help him pick up the cheap win. Stu just helped him because he thought it would effect me in the long run. Obviously, it hasn't. The thing is, while not many like me, even more don't like Kyzer. No, technically they hate him. Well, except for a Elise, and she's blinded from the inevitable truth. Kyzer won't have anyone to save him from defeat this time. It's going to be just he, and I, one on one. No special refs, no cameras, just the people in the crowd. While that loss didn't effect me in anyway shape, or form considering I know I was the rightful victor, I can't let it go that easy. Kyzer won't be getting off the hook that easy. I'm a man of pride, I'm a man of dignity. Innumerable amounts of pride build up my ego, my ego leads me to success, success leads me to greatness.
Whilst Mazing takes the time to scratch his chin, Brian contemplates what he has just heard, and suddenly turns, staring at the profile of Mazing's face, and lets his voice be heard.
Miller: If you don't mind me asking, what do you mean by, "no cameras"?
Laughing, Mazing begins to explain.
Mazing: Simple, it's a house show. It isn't televised nor will it ever be.
As Mazing, and Miller walk out into an area of the sidewalk that isn't covered by towering trees covered with the white, timely essence of the powdery snow from above, the flakes from the sky above float down onto the people in the same spot below. Soon enough, Mazing, and Brian are back under the cover of the tree tops once more as Mazing takes this time to swipe away the small sprinkles of white that rest on his left shoulder.
Miller: So, more extra work all in the end, huh? You need to give yourself a rest. Take a break sometime. If you keep going at the rate you are, we'll never finish this book!
Looking around at the surrounding trees, benches, and families that surround him, Mazing acts as if he didn't even hear the statement made by Brian until he responds to it light heartedly whilst looking at the white leaves over head.
Mazing: To be honest, I wasn't so sure on the house show concept at first basically because it was extra work, and for what? Nothing. Although, as I commonly do, I've changed my mind. And, when I was approached with the idea of main eventing the show against Michael Kyzer himself, I gladly obliged. You see, not having my hand raised at the end of that match angers me. I was the one truly victorious in the end yet it wasn't proven. This match with Kyzer is nothing more than a treat to satisfy my own taste buds. It'll help my ego, and my ego will lead me to success once again.
Nodding, Miller makes an effort to reply.
Miller: You're ego is all you think about.
As Brian slightly chuckles, Mazing runs his hand through his soft, brown hair.
Mazing: Without my ego, I wouldn't be able to live. Kyzer claims he break egos? All he can break are lives. Everyone he's ever been associated with in, or out of the ring have suffered . . . everyone except me. Honestly, I'm the only one strong enough mentally to withstand the drug that is Michael Kyzer. If not, then why would I come back for more? Maybe I'm just Kyzer. Maybe I'm addicted. Maybe I'm addict. After all, it runs in the family. Most of the time, Kyzer already has the battle won before he even steps into the ring. It's mental just like I told you. When he gets in the ring, sure, he has the occasional flash of brilliance, but without the intimidation that is the repeated usage of illegal, and prescription drugs, Kyzer would be nothing. He's just a gimmick. It just so happens he lives his gimmick. You live by the sword, you die by the sword. Michael Kyzer lives by his gimmick, he'll die by his gimmick. I just hope he doesn't overdose before the twenty-third. Better yet, I hope I don't see Elise all over the news tomorrow for brutal murder if she ever comes to her senses.
Not knowing what to say after these last words have been spoken, Brian Miller goes suddenly quiet. Mazing doesn't seem to mind. Both men continue to walk, side by side, not saying a word until they come out at another opening, this time on a much busier sidewalk. Surrounding them are tall buildings that of which have been matted with snow on the top. The gray skies still linger over head as several people, both male, and female, pass by dressed in business attire, many wearing heavy coats due to the chilling wind, and temperature as well as the falling snow. As cars pass by in front of them, Mazing, and Brian make their way through the crowd of people along the sidewalk. When they reach the edge of the sidewalk, Miller spots an available taxi cab on the side of the road. Before entering, he turns to speak to Mazing.
Miller: Considering I probably won't be seeing you any time soon, I guess I'll go ahead, and wish you luck in your match with Kyzer. Remember, I know you are always busy, but we've got to get cracking on that book. Just write as much as you can here, and there, and I'll get back to you soon.
As he enters the taxi, Brian closes the door behind him. It begins to drive off with a puff of smoke from behind as Miller can be seen waving goodbye to Mazing from the backseat. Mazing simply raises his hand very slowly in response, giving a very subtle wave goodbye before he walks off into the mass of snow, and people.
I've finally figured everything out. I'm an addict. I'm addicted. I'm addicted to you Michael Kyzer. You are my drug of choice. I can't let go of you. I don't even know if I want to let go. My grip upon your soul is just like your grip on that needle - like a vise. You choose to squeeze the life out of others, I squeeze the life out of you. You enjoy watching others suffer through pain, and despair whilst you pop pill after pill, and inject the chemicals into your veins that have destroyed Michael Kyzer the person, and created Michael Kyzer the demon, the beast, the monster.
I live in fear of no one. I live in fear of nothing. I'm not scared of you. You don't intimidate me. F*ck intimidation. Try me. I won't budge.
But, I will soak every single moment in. You give me a high that a person such as myself would never receive from drugs. I want that high to last forever. A sense of euphoria, a sense of relief, and the sense of feeling you suffer, the sense of hearing your screams of despair as you experience what you have done to those that you have torchered first hand. I could ruin you if I wanted to. In fact, I just might. I haven't decided.
Although, poor, sweet Elise continues to pop into my head. Beautiful, elegant Elise. Her love for you is unconditional. No matter what pills you pop, no matter what powder you snort, she doesn't seem to care. Elise, and a junkie. What is this world coming to? Elise deserves better. You know it. At the same time, you know she loves you dearly. You know she cares for you. You're weakened Kyzer. You're ripe for the pickings. At a time when you need to be at one hundred percent, the girl who cares most about you is the one who will be responsible for your downfall. No one on the WFWF roster will end the career of Michael Kyzer, not even me. But, Elise shall end your very life.
Unlike your's, I feel my addiction to your soul shall subside. While you continue to ruin your very self, mind, and body, I nourish myself with what ever is left of the normality that runs through your veins. Your supply is running out. The vampire with in me has fed on you for too long. You are whithering away. If you are weak, you shall make me weak. It is time to dispose of you, Kyzer. Elise won't even remember your name when I'm done . . . "comforting" her.
My reliance, my addiction, my dependency on Michael Kyzer is about to end. Everyone, say bye to, "Your Heroin Hero". The, "Addict Icon" is about to relinquish his throne. F*ck Michael Kyzer, hail Justa Mazing.
I'm a very self-confident person. Everyone who has had any success in their life is very confident in themselves. If they don't admit so, well, then they're lying. Ask Stuart. A former WFWF Television Champion, a WFWF Hall of Famer. The fans love him, and so does he himself. Stuart loved himself . . . until I came a long. I put such a dent in his ego that he could barely go on. Without it in one hundred percent condition due to me, he was literally dying right before my eyes. Although, I don't want him to die. I maybe many things, but I'm no murderer. I won't suppress from knocking another guy out, though. And, coincidentally, this Sunday at WFWF Fully Charged, that's just exactly what I get to do. Not once, but three times; three very large unrepairable dents in the precious ego of Stuart. After that, he'll be gone. Win, or lose, but most likely lose, he's admitted he's finally, "hanging up his boots". Although, I'm the ever remaining. I don't want to leave. I want to be here forever. I want to be on top forever. I want to face, "new challenges" in my career, in the ring. It just so happens that, when wanting to face new challenges, old "friends" can get in your way, and hinder that impossible. Isn't that right, Michael Kyzer?
Fame, and glory lies on television. Fame, and glory can be accomplished on WFWF Code Red. Fame, and glory can be accomplished on WFWF pay-per-view. I've already been there, done that. I'm one of the most recognizable guys on the entire roster. Needless to say, it's time for a new expedition. Enter WFWF, "house shows".
I've always ridiculed the house show concept. It's just another night we all have to go out there, and put our bodies on the line. But, for what? Absolutely nothing. There aren't any cameras. It isn't live TV. It isn't like pay-per-view. It's just a few odd thousand sitting in a dark arena. I promised myself I'd never take part in something like this. With everything I do, I want to be rewarded in the process. How was this going to reward me? No one was going to see me. It'd just be forgotten about. Although, as I always do, I got to thinking.
The WFWF management had revitalized their take on the house shows. It was more organized, more stable, more professional. Anything that is organized immediately attracts my attention. I began to rethink my views on the concept. I thought so hard, and so long that I began to realize while there might be no cameras, there would be a whole lot for me to gain. I could feed my ego. With a win here, and a win there, I'd take my self-confidence in myself to a new high. My pride would be nourished. I could feed of the house shows.
And, so I went to WFWF management, requesting a match. I knew now what I had to do. I didn't have to wait long to find my opponent. To be honest, I wasn't expecting such an opportunity at a house show. But, I got. And, all the better. Because, beating Michael Kyzer would be extraordinary.
To replenish your broken minds, it was just a few weeks ago when I stepped into the ring with Michael Kyzer for the very first time on Hybrid. I was prepared. After all, the guy had just got back from an extensive break, he'd lost his previous match, how hard could this be? WFWF management being WFWF management, I guess they figured the same. So, stacking the odds against me, they throw in Stuart as the special guest referee. Things have come back to bite in the ass so many times it isn't even funny.
Never the less, for about fifteen minutes, I was in control. Whilst Stu had surely shown to favor to Kyzer, it wasn't holding one bit. I had the damn match won. Remember that Kyzer, I had you pinned in the middle of the ring. Stuart laid out on the ground, courtesy of moi, an impartial WFWF official rushed his way to the ring. Just as that hand was coming down for three, Stuart sprang to life like a teenage boy having a wet dream. He ruined my opportunity to dethrone, "Your Heroin Hero". In the end, due to a whole lot of help from Stuart, Michael Kyzer was victorious. My ego was shot. But, I pulled the bullet. Because, I knew, no matter what the end result of that match might have been, I was the real winner.
I'm sure you've heard the old homage, "good always prevails over evil", Kyzer. Not that I'm saying I'm a goodie-too-shoos by any means, no. Although, compared to you? I'm a f*cking saint. You'll admit it. Your a whore for excess at every single thing you do. We all know it. Michael Kyzer, your the very epitome of "evil". You don't kill, you don't kidnap, you don't rape, but you destroy lives. You destroy people's souls. And, sweet, innocent Elise? Beauty on another level is Elise Cassell. Although, no matter what she wants to believe, your destroying her. Your killing her. She pities you Kyzer. And, you feel that pity? You feel the love, don't you? It weakens you. Your an addict. You don't want to be loved. Peace. Love. Faith. Those three words just have to absolutely send a tingling down your spine, don't they? I know first-hand as I'm sure you've heard. Don't worry, though. My side of things always does what it is right. Peace, love, and faith send a warm, hearty feeling into his veins now. But, you? Your on a road that goes no where, man. And, you're taking Elise with you. Poor, beautiful Elise. How she suffers. All because you. You're the f*cking devil. I hate you Kyzer. F*ck you.
Brilliant is the young day at hand. As the snow drifts from the gray sky above us, it lands onto the ground, grouped with its other fellow snowflakes. The towering trees that occupy the beautiful, snow white park tower over the frozen pond in which several children, and happy couples have taken the liberty of skiing on this fine yet chilly Saturday afternoon. Benches that were once brown have been decorated with the softer, powdery essence of snow. However, many who have now occupied the benches have taken the liberty of sweeping the snow off beforehand. Considering it is below freezing, the sun hides itself behind the gray clouds that can be so pretty, and sometimes dreary. Those walking on the frozen path way that curves in, and out of the frost bitten, and snow covered grass around the trees, and now frozen pond are bundled up with scarves, jackets, and toboggans. Some have even taken the liberty of bringing along their own coffee, or hot chocolate as is seen by the many Starbuck's logos that adorn the cups at hand. While the chattering, and laughing echo through the vibrant park on this wonderful day, there are the few who choose to walk in peace, and alone. However, not these two. As the snow continues to drift down upon the long, brown hair of young man wearing blue jeans, a black, puffy coat, brown tennis shoes, and a tight long sleeve t-shirt, he waves his arms very animated as he raves on about a various subject to the man on his right. Compared to the rather lean individual beside him, this particular male is rather short, shorter than the man beside him, and is rather pudgy. Sporting snow-sprinkled glasses, khakis, a tighter black coat, gloves, and a toboggan, this man here continues to sip whatever liquid lies in his Starbuck's cup, puts his other hand in his pocket, and then cuts off the young man to his right with words of his own.
? ? ?: Of course I understand! It's just that I've apologize countless times over the incident at the cafe, but I always feel you never truly accept my apologies. Don't you remember that I called you on your cell phone, saying sorry countless times just thirty minutes after you left? And, every time I've talked to you since then, no matter where it be, I've done everything I can to let you know I'm sorry. I understand that the schedule, and life you lead is very hard. I mean, look at me. All I do is sit around, sip coffee, eat, read, write, and get fat! You're an active guy, you have to be! But, if I'm willing to understand you, you've got to understand me, know what I mean? The thing is, I just don't think you actually do.
Once he finishes reciting the words he previously recited, the man turns his head to the man to his left. At this point, he has his hands in his coat pockets as well, and is starting straight ahead, his light, blue eyes centered on virtually nothing in particular. His rather tan, smooth face is capped off by a rather strong jaw line. As his accomplice stares at him rather intently, apparently waiting for an answer, he finally speaks.
? ? ?: What's so hard to understand about you, Brian? I understand you completely. After all, like you pointed out, you don't do that much. I just didn't feel you gave me the proper respect after our first few encounters. Now that you've cleaned up your act a bit, treated me ten times better, and given me the respect I so rightfully deserve, sure, I understand you fully. It's just that this book is the story of my life. I can't help, but get the sense you're rushing me when you call me up virtually every hour, wanting to know when the next chapter will be finished. You said it yourself, I'm a busy guy. I don't want to rush this thing. It means a lot to me. When I finish whatever is needed to be finished, don't worry, I'll tell you Miller. It just takes time. I've got other things to do. After all, I am Justa Mazing.
Smiling, Mazing continues to walk, the snow crunching on the stone beneath his feet. His hands still rests in his pockets. Beside him, the man known as Brian Miller passes a trashcan by a tree that was previously blue, but has been turned a snowy white by the current weather conditions. He throws away his Starbuck's coffee as his head slowly tilts to wards the ground in almost apparent shame. He then begins to speak, but his speech is rather slow, and uncomprehendable, almost at a mutter.
Miller: You're right. I guess I have pressured you too much. What, you're on the road almost every day of the week? Then, when you do have down time, you're stuck with me, or you're working on this book. I should give you some space. I thought I understood how hard your life, and career were, but I guess I truly never did, huh?
Mazing nods his head up, and down, looking triumphant.
Miller: So, how's the wrestling thing going?
After this is said, Mazing lets out a slightly delayed laugh which causes Brian to give him a sharp look of utter confusement. Not knowing how to really react, he slightly smiles before Mazing fully answers the question.
Mazing: Things are always going pretty well. I mean, after all, I am living my dream, right? I feel good, I am good, I'm on my back to the top, and things couldn't be better than they are at the moment. Yeah, it'd be nice if I had some gold, but titles aren't everything. After all, the most talented people in the company right now aren't even champions. Of course, I'm a perfect example. Then there's Josh, Tha CBT, Drakz, all of those guys. Plus, the titles don't mean as much as they used to. There's too many, and all the glory they once had has been tarnished, so it's really no big deal. A title just gives you a title, plain, and simple.
Miller bites his lip, looking interested. However, Mazing remains in the same trance, showing no signs of changing anytime soon. Suddenly, Brian pipes up, voicing his own opinion.
Miller: I guess you have a point. I mean, that Kyzer guy -
Although, before Brian can finish, he suddenly stops as he notices the fact that Mazing just violently snapped his head in the direction of Miller, stared him straight in the eyes, and raised his eyebrow a tad. Just as he has done previously, Brian puts his head down, looking at the snow beneath his black shoes, and retorts.
Miller: Erm, sorry, I forgot about -
Once again, Mazing cuts off Brian by shaking his head from side to side, and starting to speak as well.
Mazing: No, don't be sorry. Kyzer's good. Lucky, true, but good. Although, he'll never be a champion. I'd never let a junkie represent the WFWF in such a manner. He'll just always be that addict that no one cares about. Well, except Elise.
With a slightly puzzled look on his face, Miller soaks in these words before speaking himself.
Miller: The girlfriend?
Just as he has already done previously, Mazing takes the time to slightly laugh at this comment before answering the question.
Mazing: If you want to call her that, yeah. It's just a shame someone so beautiful is being wasted on someone so worthless. Maybe she's good for him, I don't know. I don't think anyone, or anything could save Kyzer now. Although, it'd be a shame to see such a promising life ruined by another treacherous act of one Michael Kyzer.
Brian silently opens his mouth to speak, but closes it in due time, no words coming out as was expected. Mazing continues to stare straight a head, stone-faced, taking short strides on the glistening sidewalk garnished with so many flakes of snow as are the surrounding areas. As Brian narrowly avoids a young couple giggling in arm, and arm that almost knock him over as they pass, Mazing breaks the silence that has fallen over both men.
Mazing: After Stuart at the pay-per-view, Kyzer's my next opponent.
Mazing turns his head slightly so that he is now facing, and staring rather resolutely at Brian, seemingly waiting for a response.
Miller: No disrespect meant to you of course, but coming off such an important match, I don't know, don't you think you should take it easy? You already said it yourself, the guy is no walk in the park.
Miller looks as if he is about to cringe as he waits for Mazing's response to what the words he has just spoken.
Mazing: I enjoy a challenge. Besides, you saw the last time I was in the ring with Kyzer, right?
Biting his tongue, Brian slowly nods his head up, and down.
Mazing: Then you know that I've got the match in the bag already. I'm going to take Stuart out at Fully Charged, and come due time for my match with Michael, he won't have anyone left to help him pick up the cheap win. Stu just helped him because he thought it would effect me in the long run. Obviously, it hasn't. The thing is, while not many like me, even more don't like Kyzer. No, technically they hate him. Well, except for a Elise, and she's blinded from the inevitable truth. Kyzer won't have anyone to save him from defeat this time. It's going to be just he, and I, one on one. No special refs, no cameras, just the people in the crowd. While that loss didn't effect me in anyway shape, or form considering I know I was the rightful victor, I can't let it go that easy. Kyzer won't be getting off the hook that easy. I'm a man of pride, I'm a man of dignity. Innumerable amounts of pride build up my ego, my ego leads me to success, success leads me to greatness.
Whilst Mazing takes the time to scratch his chin, Brian contemplates what he has just heard, and suddenly turns, staring at the profile of Mazing's face, and lets his voice be heard.
Miller: If you don't mind me asking, what do you mean by, "no cameras"?
Laughing, Mazing begins to explain.
Mazing: Simple, it's a house show. It isn't televised nor will it ever be.
As Mazing, and Miller walk out into an area of the sidewalk that isn't covered by towering trees covered with the white, timely essence of the powdery snow from above, the flakes from the sky above float down onto the people in the same spot below. Soon enough, Mazing, and Brian are back under the cover of the tree tops once more as Mazing takes this time to swipe away the small sprinkles of white that rest on his left shoulder.
Miller: So, more extra work all in the end, huh? You need to give yourself a rest. Take a break sometime. If you keep going at the rate you are, we'll never finish this book!
Looking around at the surrounding trees, benches, and families that surround him, Mazing acts as if he didn't even hear the statement made by Brian until he responds to it light heartedly whilst looking at the white leaves over head.
Mazing: To be honest, I wasn't so sure on the house show concept at first basically because it was extra work, and for what? Nothing. Although, as I commonly do, I've changed my mind. And, when I was approached with the idea of main eventing the show against Michael Kyzer himself, I gladly obliged. You see, not having my hand raised at the end of that match angers me. I was the one truly victorious in the end yet it wasn't proven. This match with Kyzer is nothing more than a treat to satisfy my own taste buds. It'll help my ego, and my ego will lead me to success once again.
Nodding, Miller makes an effort to reply.
Miller: You're ego is all you think about.
As Brian slightly chuckles, Mazing runs his hand through his soft, brown hair.
Mazing: Without my ego, I wouldn't be able to live. Kyzer claims he break egos? All he can break are lives. Everyone he's ever been associated with in, or out of the ring have suffered . . . everyone except me. Honestly, I'm the only one strong enough mentally to withstand the drug that is Michael Kyzer. If not, then why would I come back for more? Maybe I'm just Kyzer. Maybe I'm addicted. Maybe I'm addict. After all, it runs in the family. Most of the time, Kyzer already has the battle won before he even steps into the ring. It's mental just like I told you. When he gets in the ring, sure, he has the occasional flash of brilliance, but without the intimidation that is the repeated usage of illegal, and prescription drugs, Kyzer would be nothing. He's just a gimmick. It just so happens he lives his gimmick. You live by the sword, you die by the sword. Michael Kyzer lives by his gimmick, he'll die by his gimmick. I just hope he doesn't overdose before the twenty-third. Better yet, I hope I don't see Elise all over the news tomorrow for brutal murder if she ever comes to her senses.
Not knowing what to say after these last words have been spoken, Brian Miller goes suddenly quiet. Mazing doesn't seem to mind. Both men continue to walk, side by side, not saying a word until they come out at another opening, this time on a much busier sidewalk. Surrounding them are tall buildings that of which have been matted with snow on the top. The gray skies still linger over head as several people, both male, and female, pass by dressed in business attire, many wearing heavy coats due to the chilling wind, and temperature as well as the falling snow. As cars pass by in front of them, Mazing, and Brian make their way through the crowd of people along the sidewalk. When they reach the edge of the sidewalk, Miller spots an available taxi cab on the side of the road. Before entering, he turns to speak to Mazing.
Miller: Considering I probably won't be seeing you any time soon, I guess I'll go ahead, and wish you luck in your match with Kyzer. Remember, I know you are always busy, but we've got to get cracking on that book. Just write as much as you can here, and there, and I'll get back to you soon.
As he enters the taxi, Brian closes the door behind him. It begins to drive off with a puff of smoke from behind as Miller can be seen waving goodbye to Mazing from the backseat. Mazing simply raises his hand very slowly in response, giving a very subtle wave goodbye before he walks off into the mass of snow, and people.
I've finally figured everything out. I'm an addict. I'm addicted. I'm addicted to you Michael Kyzer. You are my drug of choice. I can't let go of you. I don't even know if I want to let go. My grip upon your soul is just like your grip on that needle - like a vise. You choose to squeeze the life out of others, I squeeze the life out of you. You enjoy watching others suffer through pain, and despair whilst you pop pill after pill, and inject the chemicals into your veins that have destroyed Michael Kyzer the person, and created Michael Kyzer the demon, the beast, the monster.
I live in fear of no one. I live in fear of nothing. I'm not scared of you. You don't intimidate me. F*ck intimidation. Try me. I won't budge.
But, I will soak every single moment in. You give me a high that a person such as myself would never receive from drugs. I want that high to last forever. A sense of euphoria, a sense of relief, and the sense of feeling you suffer, the sense of hearing your screams of despair as you experience what you have done to those that you have torchered first hand. I could ruin you if I wanted to. In fact, I just might. I haven't decided.
Although, poor, sweet Elise continues to pop into my head. Beautiful, elegant Elise. Her love for you is unconditional. No matter what pills you pop, no matter what powder you snort, she doesn't seem to care. Elise, and a junkie. What is this world coming to? Elise deserves better. You know it. At the same time, you know she loves you dearly. You know she cares for you. You're weakened Kyzer. You're ripe for the pickings. At a time when you need to be at one hundred percent, the girl who cares most about you is the one who will be responsible for your downfall. No one on the WFWF roster will end the career of Michael Kyzer, not even me. But, Elise shall end your very life.
Unlike your's, I feel my addiction to your soul shall subside. While you continue to ruin your very self, mind, and body, I nourish myself with what ever is left of the normality that runs through your veins. Your supply is running out. The vampire with in me has fed on you for too long. You are whithering away. If you are weak, you shall make me weak. It is time to dispose of you, Kyzer. Elise won't even remember your name when I'm done . . . "comforting" her.
My reliance, my addiction, my dependency on Michael Kyzer is about to end. Everyone, say bye to, "Your Heroin Hero". The, "Addict Icon" is about to relinquish his throne. F*ck Michael Kyzer, hail Justa Mazing.