Post by Rated R on Dec 17, 2009 19:23:16 GMT -5
They don’t think I can do it, not a single one of them. They patronise me, humour me in my thoughts and ambitions. Tell me that I can do it when they don’t believe it themselves. Maybe they’re right, maybe I can’t. Maybe I’m setting myself up for a fall, aiming too high.
Will everything go to plan? Or will it all fall apart in front of my face? Will I lose everything in the blink of an eye?
Will this be the end of Trace Demon?
Guy in a suit: How is he Doctor?
Doctor: He’s pretty banged up, those guys did a real number on him, but he’ll live.
Guy in a suit: Will he be able to wrestle next week?
Doctor: With plenty of rest and recuperation he should be able to, yes.
Trace Demon: Screw rest and recuperation.
This time an hour ago I was getting my ass well and truly handed to me by the XWA, who apparently thought my time was the perfect time to declare their return. I was left bloodied, battered and bruised. My body aches and the stitches in my head aren’t exactly comfortable. But worse still, they got one over on me.
That was a rookie mistake to make.
I’m standing in the doorway of the medical office backstage at the arena, propping myself up on the doorframe with my shoulder. Not because I’m worried I’ll fall over if I don’t or anything, but because I look cool doing it. There’s some dude in a suit, not a good suit either, but a rather poorly made one. Barney Stinson would not approve.
What? I can make pop culture references just as well as anybody else.
Trace Demon: And you are?
Guy in a suit: Hello sir, My name is Mr. Rayner. I’m a representative for the Shadow Conglomerate, the owners of the WFWF.
He holds out his hand, obviously thinking I care.
Just in case you’re new to this and think I may actually care, I really don’t.
And to rub in how much I don’t care, I’ll just look around the room, looking bored. Not just bored, but like superbored, If he doesn’t get the message, then I have to ask why in the world does this guy even have a job. In my bored pose I notice that the medical office isn’t really very nice. Everything’s a sterile white colour, and there’s some new red drapes hung over the only window. Maybe they should get some more funding?
Wait, when did the medical office get new drapes?
Trace Demon: That must be nice for you.
He lowers his hand, realizing I don’t really care for touching it. Guess the guy’s got more common sense than he does dress sense.
Trace Demon: What do you want?
Red drapes? Really?
Mr. Rayner: Well Mr. Demon, I’ve been sent to speak to you about the events that unfolded earlier tonight.
Trace Demon: You mean when I received a beating at the hands of those pissants known as the XWA?
Why did I say pissants? That isn’t funny or insulting at all. Maybe I’m losing my comedic edge and quick wit?
Mr. Rayner: Yes sir. We think that maybe your being a bit idiotic...
Trace Demon: Your mum’s being a bit idiotic!
Oh yes, I’ve still got it.
Mr. Rayner: Sorry sir?
Trace Demon: Sorry, it’s nothing, slip of the tongue.
You just got owned!
Mr Rayner: As I was saying, do you think it’s wise to continue with what you’re doing? This personal crusade of yours, you’ve angered a lot of people.
Trace Demon: If everything I did was wise then I wouldn’t have any fun in life.
I also wouldn’t have stitches in my head, but whatever.
Mr Rayner: If you continue then the Shadow Conglomerate will have no choice but to take action Mr. Demon. We can’t have our acting director just run around angering the talent.
Angering the talent? Is that what he calls it? What have I done other than wage a personal war against Yukio Blaze, help Thunder win the WFWF World Championship and try and destroy the Anointed?
Oh, right.
Trace Demon: If you want to get rid of me, then go ahead, but there’s no way that I am just going to let what the XWA did go! This Sunday, I’ll beat DGX and keep the WFWF World Championship here in the WFWF, and then I’m going to go on and kick the living hell out of that asshat Alex Sean.
Asshat?! What am I, the urban dictionary?
Mr. Ranyer: But sir...
Oh to hell with this. If I need a guy in a suit to tell me where I’m going wrong I’ll talk to my accountant.
Trace Demon: Shut up! I’m done with you and your fears over whom I’m rubbing the wrong way. I’ll rub whoever I want whatever way I want!
Wait, that just sounds wrong.
Trace Demon: What I mean is that I’ll do what I want and what I want to do right now is get ready for my match against DGX at Scars & Stripes. Now I bid you good day.
Needed to sound a little bit polite at the end there.
Mr. Rayner: But...
Trace Demon: I said good day!
I slam the door to the arena as I shout, creating an incredibly dramatic exit, more dramatic than any member of the XWA could ever pull off, now more determined to defeat DGX than ever.
But seriously? Red freaking drapes?!
Alexa Monroe: The doctor said you were meant to rest.
Trace Demon: The doctor is a corporate drone, his opinion doesn’t matter.
Alex Monroe: A corporate drone for a corporation you run.
Trace Demon: Exactly, and therefore my opinion is more important, and I say I’m fine.
Alexa Monroe: I’m not sure that’s how it works.
Trace Demon: Well we’ll just have to agree to disagree.
Despite the fact we both know I’m right.
Alexa Monroe: Now get off there and take a rest before I kick you off there.
I laugh and turn the treadmill off, taking a second to catch my breath after another lengthy session. My body aches from all the hard work, the intense workout sessions that I’ve built into my day just in an attempt to gain the edge over DGX.
Alexa Monroe: Here.
Alexa hands me a hot cup of coffee, just the way I like it. Good thing too, because without the alcohol I’m drinking a lot more coffee now a ways.
Not that I ever had a drinking problem... like at all.
Alexa Monroe: So this match is really that important then?
Trace Demon: It’s the biggest moment of my life.
That was a mistake.
Alexa Monroe: And here I was thinking meeting me was the biggest moment of your life.
Trace Demon: It is, I meant professional life.
Good save.
Alexa Monroe: Yeah, sure you did.
I step forward and take her face in my palms, delivering a soft kiss that seems to last a decade.
Trace: Course I did.
Oh yeah, mad romancing skills.
Alexa Monroe: And what happens if you don’t win?
Trace Demon: That is unfathomable Alexa.
Oh great, I’ve gone from being the urban dictionary to the thesaurus. At least it’s a bit more upper class.
Alexa Monroe: Unfathomable?
Hold your ground, don’t make yourself look like an idiot.
Trace Demon: Affirmative.
Damn it!
Alexa Monroe: I’m just saying Trace, you’re already pretty banged up, you sure you’re not taking on too much?
She’s doubting me? How in the hell can she possibly doubt me? I’m invincible, unstoppable, godlike. I’m the mother
ing Batman.
Well, not really, but you get the picture.
Trace Demon: It’ll be fine, I’ll walk in there a god, and walk out a legend.
Alexa Monroe: Sure you will.
I grin, and realize I’m sweating like a pregnant lady giving birth.
Oh god, so didn’t need that image in my head.
Trace Demon: I’m gonna go grab a shower, I’ll be back soon.
Alexa Monroe: Good, cause after all that working out, you kinda stink a little bit.
Stepping out of the shower I wrap a towel around myself and step in front of the mirror, wiping away the steam. I don’t know what I expect to see, some kind of clue about what I’m meant to do? Some way to ensure victory? Maybe just a little bit of reassurance.
But it’s just me, standing there, looking back at myself.
Thoughts race through my skull, all concluding with one sole thought.
Will this be the end of Trace Demon?
To hell it will.
I stare at the mirror in front of me, and I notice something. Determination, fire, passion. All the things that got me this title shot, they’re all still there, all still ready to come forward and kick somebody’s head in.
This is what everything has been building to, this is where my road finally ends. This is my Everest, my final battle against everything, my rapture. This is everything I’ve worked towards in one match, and the only thing standing in my way is DGX.
He’s been there, in my way, since the very beginning. The Anointed tried to take over this company, they tried to control everything, tried to put themselves at the top of the mountain whether I wanted it or not. And it didn’t get them anywhere.
I got rid of Alex Sean, I watched the Anointed tear themselves apart from the inside so if there’s any man who can defeat DGX and send him packing then its me.
I’ve felt the pain, the suffering, the torment. I’ve already received the beating, an attempted rebellion against me. I’ve got the stitches and the pain, but it’ll all be worth it when I put DGX’s shoulders to the mat and win the WFWF World Championship. When I stand tall over the entire WFWF and prove that I’m not just a pretty face.
Although I am a pretty face as well.
This is my chance, my moment, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
Scars & Stripes is my night.
My chance.
My window of opportunity.
Scars & Stripes is my finish line, and I’m not letting anything stop me from crossing it.
Will everything go to plan? Or will it all fall apart in front of my face? Will I lose everything in the blink of an eye?
Will this be the end of Trace Demon?
Guy in a suit: How is he Doctor?
Doctor: He’s pretty banged up, those guys did a real number on him, but he’ll live.
Guy in a suit: Will he be able to wrestle next week?
Doctor: With plenty of rest and recuperation he should be able to, yes.
Trace Demon: Screw rest and recuperation.
This time an hour ago I was getting my ass well and truly handed to me by the XWA, who apparently thought my time was the perfect time to declare their return. I was left bloodied, battered and bruised. My body aches and the stitches in my head aren’t exactly comfortable. But worse still, they got one over on me.
That was a rookie mistake to make.
I’m standing in the doorway of the medical office backstage at the arena, propping myself up on the doorframe with my shoulder. Not because I’m worried I’ll fall over if I don’t or anything, but because I look cool doing it. There’s some dude in a suit, not a good suit either, but a rather poorly made one. Barney Stinson would not approve.
What? I can make pop culture references just as well as anybody else.
Trace Demon: And you are?
Guy in a suit: Hello sir, My name is Mr. Rayner. I’m a representative for the Shadow Conglomerate, the owners of the WFWF.
He holds out his hand, obviously thinking I care.
Just in case you’re new to this and think I may actually care, I really don’t.
And to rub in how much I don’t care, I’ll just look around the room, looking bored. Not just bored, but like superbored, If he doesn’t get the message, then I have to ask why in the world does this guy even have a job. In my bored pose I notice that the medical office isn’t really very nice. Everything’s a sterile white colour, and there’s some new red drapes hung over the only window. Maybe they should get some more funding?
Wait, when did the medical office get new drapes?
Trace Demon: That must be nice for you.
He lowers his hand, realizing I don’t really care for touching it. Guess the guy’s got more common sense than he does dress sense.
Trace Demon: What do you want?
Red drapes? Really?
Mr. Rayner: Well Mr. Demon, I’ve been sent to speak to you about the events that unfolded earlier tonight.
Trace Demon: You mean when I received a beating at the hands of those pissants known as the XWA?
Why did I say pissants? That isn’t funny or insulting at all. Maybe I’m losing my comedic edge and quick wit?
Mr. Rayner: Yes sir. We think that maybe your being a bit idiotic...
Trace Demon: Your mum’s being a bit idiotic!
Oh yes, I’ve still got it.
Mr. Rayner: Sorry sir?
Trace Demon: Sorry, it’s nothing, slip of the tongue.
You just got owned!
Mr Rayner: As I was saying, do you think it’s wise to continue with what you’re doing? This personal crusade of yours, you’ve angered a lot of people.
Trace Demon: If everything I did was wise then I wouldn’t have any fun in life.
I also wouldn’t have stitches in my head, but whatever.
Mr Rayner: If you continue then the Shadow Conglomerate will have no choice but to take action Mr. Demon. We can’t have our acting director just run around angering the talent.
Angering the talent? Is that what he calls it? What have I done other than wage a personal war against Yukio Blaze, help Thunder win the WFWF World Championship and try and destroy the Anointed?
Oh, right.
Trace Demon: If you want to get rid of me, then go ahead, but there’s no way that I am just going to let what the XWA did go! This Sunday, I’ll beat DGX and keep the WFWF World Championship here in the WFWF, and then I’m going to go on and kick the living hell out of that asshat Alex Sean.
Asshat?! What am I, the urban dictionary?
Mr. Ranyer: But sir...
Oh to hell with this. If I need a guy in a suit to tell me where I’m going wrong I’ll talk to my accountant.
Trace Demon: Shut up! I’m done with you and your fears over whom I’m rubbing the wrong way. I’ll rub whoever I want whatever way I want!
Wait, that just sounds wrong.
Trace Demon: What I mean is that I’ll do what I want and what I want to do right now is get ready for my match against DGX at Scars & Stripes. Now I bid you good day.
Needed to sound a little bit polite at the end there.
Mr. Rayner: But...
Trace Demon: I said good day!
I slam the door to the arena as I shout, creating an incredibly dramatic exit, more dramatic than any member of the XWA could ever pull off, now more determined to defeat DGX than ever.
But seriously? Red freaking drapes?!
Alexa Monroe: The doctor said you were meant to rest.
Trace Demon: The doctor is a corporate drone, his opinion doesn’t matter.
Alex Monroe: A corporate drone for a corporation you run.
Trace Demon: Exactly, and therefore my opinion is more important, and I say I’m fine.
Alexa Monroe: I’m not sure that’s how it works.
Trace Demon: Well we’ll just have to agree to disagree.
Despite the fact we both know I’m right.
Alexa Monroe: Now get off there and take a rest before I kick you off there.
I laugh and turn the treadmill off, taking a second to catch my breath after another lengthy session. My body aches from all the hard work, the intense workout sessions that I’ve built into my day just in an attempt to gain the edge over DGX.
Alexa Monroe: Here.
Alexa hands me a hot cup of coffee, just the way I like it. Good thing too, because without the alcohol I’m drinking a lot more coffee now a ways.
Not that I ever had a drinking problem... like at all.
Alexa Monroe: So this match is really that important then?
Trace Demon: It’s the biggest moment of my life.
That was a mistake.
Alexa Monroe: And here I was thinking meeting me was the biggest moment of your life.
Trace Demon: It is, I meant professional life.
Good save.
Alexa Monroe: Yeah, sure you did.
I step forward and take her face in my palms, delivering a soft kiss that seems to last a decade.
Trace: Course I did.
Oh yeah, mad romancing skills.
Alexa Monroe: And what happens if you don’t win?
Trace Demon: That is unfathomable Alexa.
Oh great, I’ve gone from being the urban dictionary to the thesaurus. At least it’s a bit more upper class.
Alexa Monroe: Unfathomable?
Hold your ground, don’t make yourself look like an idiot.
Trace Demon: Affirmative.
Damn it!
Alexa Monroe: I’m just saying Trace, you’re already pretty banged up, you sure you’re not taking on too much?
She’s doubting me? How in the hell can she possibly doubt me? I’m invincible, unstoppable, godlike. I’m the mother
ing Batman.Well, not really, but you get the picture.
Trace Demon: It’ll be fine, I’ll walk in there a god, and walk out a legend.
Alexa Monroe: Sure you will.
I grin, and realize I’m sweating like a pregnant lady giving birth.
Oh god, so didn’t need that image in my head.
Trace Demon: I’m gonna go grab a shower, I’ll be back soon.
Alexa Monroe: Good, cause after all that working out, you kinda stink a little bit.
Stepping out of the shower I wrap a towel around myself and step in front of the mirror, wiping away the steam. I don’t know what I expect to see, some kind of clue about what I’m meant to do? Some way to ensure victory? Maybe just a little bit of reassurance.
But it’s just me, standing there, looking back at myself.
Thoughts race through my skull, all concluding with one sole thought.
Will this be the end of Trace Demon?
To hell it will.
I stare at the mirror in front of me, and I notice something. Determination, fire, passion. All the things that got me this title shot, they’re all still there, all still ready to come forward and kick somebody’s head in.
This is what everything has been building to, this is where my road finally ends. This is my Everest, my final battle against everything, my rapture. This is everything I’ve worked towards in one match, and the only thing standing in my way is DGX.
He’s been there, in my way, since the very beginning. The Anointed tried to take over this company, they tried to control everything, tried to put themselves at the top of the mountain whether I wanted it or not. And it didn’t get them anywhere.
I got rid of Alex Sean, I watched the Anointed tear themselves apart from the inside so if there’s any man who can defeat DGX and send him packing then its me.
I’ve felt the pain, the suffering, the torment. I’ve already received the beating, an attempted rebellion against me. I’ve got the stitches and the pain, but it’ll all be worth it when I put DGX’s shoulders to the mat and win the WFWF World Championship. When I stand tall over the entire WFWF and prove that I’m not just a pretty face.
Although I am a pretty face as well.
This is my chance, my moment, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
Scars & Stripes is my night.
My chance.
My window of opportunity.
Scars & Stripes is my finish line, and I’m not letting anything stop me from crossing it.
