Post by Rated R on Jul 30, 2010 18:46:48 GMT -5
Trent Williams: The place is falling apart Trace. The World Champion’s gone walkabouts, half the roster’s turned tail and legged it to wherever washed up wrestlers go nowadays, and the new owner doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.
Trace Demon: You’re all about the moaning now?
Trent: Hey, you stopped drinking, that means I can start moaning. People can change you know.
Trace let out a small laugh that makes Trent smile. For the first time in an age Trent recognises the laugh as something real, like a laugh any normal person would laugh. It isn’t the laugh of a man who had no purpose in laugh, the laugh he’d have heard from Trace this time last year. This was something new, somebody who was content with life and everything that it brought with it.
Trace and Trent had been friends for years, ever since Trace had saved him from being smashed and stabbed in a bar by a large Irish man who had no hair but did a lot of overcompensating. Not the friendly leprechaun type of Irish that you’d like to meet in a bar. Now that would be a bar trip worth making.
They’d gotten a job in the WFWF together two years back and rose up through the ranks, Trace as the awesome wrestler that he is and Trent as a backstage staff hand, now one of the top staff supervisors.
Trent: But as I was saying, what the hell happened to it man? It used to be glorious, it used to be the greatest fed I’d seen. Now I don’t want to come into work, don’t want to see it fall apart anymore than it already has. I don’t want to work with a psycho owner.
They were sitting outside the arena that WFWF were scheduled to present the latest edition of Loaded in that week. The very Loaded that Trace would face Shawn Malakai, that Trace would continue his mission to become World Champion for a second time.
Trace: The Shadow dudes lost control and King Kraig got back into power, that’s what went wrong.
Trent: No, it’s more than that, not that Kraig being in power isn’t a bad thing. Whose stupid idea was it to sell the fed to him in the first place? Clearly he’s going to run it into the ground even more. The dude’s got no personality worth watching and every time I see him I cringe.
Trent took another swig of his beer and for the first time it dawned on Trace that he wasn’t even tempted to have a drink. He hadn’t been tempted in months, ever since he quit when he got back with Alexa. The urges had stopped, he no longer cared about other people drinking, he didn’t even have the itch for alcohol anymore.
Guess it was possible for him to quit drinking, he told Alexa it wouldn’t be a problem. You gotta love being a genius whose right all the time, Trace certainly does.
Trace: I get you man, Kraig’s got no business sense and worse still, he’s absolutely crazy, as in he’s a cake tray short of a fat kids dream.
Trent: That would be one angry fat kid.
Trace laughed and felt the wind blow across his face. There was a storm coming in, the sky in the distance blackened by dark ominous clouds, bringing the gods of war with them. Or rain, it could be rain.
Thank god they brought the car with them.
Trace: It’s going to take some work, sure, but the WFWF can get back to its prime.
Trent: Not if everybody keeps running off cause they’re scared to put in the work to improve it man. They’d rather be known as traitors than failures.
Trace: Well they’re the type of people we don’t need around, not like they’d put in the work needed. They don’t want to be here, we don’t want them, right?
Trent: True man, just sucks that we’re the ones left holding the buck.
Trace shrugs as a flash of lighting bursts across the sky, followed by a crash of thunder. Lesser men would leave now, but Trace was too manly and courageous for that, it wouldn’t be until the rain came down that someone as manly as Trace Demon would hightail it out of there. Trent takes another sip of his beer while Trace throws down some of his water, a far cry from the whiskey he’d have been drinking six months ago.
Trent: How’s Alexa?
Their relationship was the stuff films were based on. Boy meets girl, great relationship ensues, drinking destroys relationship, six months pass, girl picks boy up from jail, boy punches out girl’s new boyfriend, boy and girl live happily ever after. At least he hopes.
Trace: Everything’s pretty good right now, although she’s been acting pretty weird lately.
Trent: Weird?
Trace: Well, y’know how she has the occasional mood swings?
Trent: Yeah, it’s called PMS man.
Trace: Well it’s been happening a lot more recently, and she locks herself in the bathroom most mornings and I don’t see her until later in the day.
Trent: Sounds like usual womanly behaviour man, don’t try to rationalise what they do.
Trace let out a small chuckle and pushed it to the back of his mind. He’s made it a point to try and take things easy, not to over analyse things too much. Thinking about things only seems to make them worse.
Damn, Einstein must have had a terrible life.
Trent: So, you’ve got Shawn on the next show.
Trace nodded, thinking to his opponent for the upcoming edition of Loaded. It was going to be a tough one for sure, facing one of the most experienced stars in the fed, but he’d faced stronger and better opponents, and he could topple someone like Shawn Malakai.
Trent: You realise it’s not going to be easy. The guy’s gonna be riding high after beating Thunder.
Trace: I can’t fault him, he beat Thunder fair and square, but then I kicked the ass of his former protégé last show, I intend to do the same thing to him.
Trent: Ashton isn’t anywhere near as experienced as Shawn.
Trace: And that’s my point. I’ve been hear what, half the amount of time as Shawn? And yet I’ve done things he’s never managed, he’s never held the world title but I have. He’s never won Survival of the Fittest, but I did. He’s never beaten Trace Demon, and that isn’t going to end anytime soon.
Trent: You sound pretty confident for somebody who lost the WFWF World title recently.
Trace gave him a look, that look that says who do you think you are, the look that asks ‘did you really just say that? A look that can mean a million things, a look that Shawn Malakai is unable of giving because he doesn’t have the grace or good looks of Trace Demon.
Trace: Alex Sean beat me fair and square, but that doesn’t mean I don’t intend to take the title back from whoever is meant to be holding the belt.
The first drops of rain began to fall, a large crash of thunder heard overhead, a battle cry from the sky to remind those below who really rules the planet.
Trent: Damn it, it wasn’t meant to rain today.
Trace: Your kidding me right? The sky’s been as black as Calvin Lee’s heart on Christmas day.
Trent: C’mon, we’d better head off, my wife will kill me if we’re out to much longer.
Trace: Dude, your wife would kill you if you sneezed without asking.
Trent nodded solemnly as they both laughed, walking back towards the car before the rain got any worse.
< *** >
Pushing his way through the apartment door Trace was faced by Alexa, standing motionless in the middle of the room, her hands clasped together over her stomach.
Trace: Um... hey. What’s going on?
Alexa: I’ve got something to tell you. You might want to sit down.
Okay, this isn’t good.
Trace: I’m fine standing.
Alexa: Okay... well, I wasn’t sure before today and I didn’t want to tell you before I was sure...
This sure as hell isn’t good.
Trace: What is it Alexa?
Alexa: I’m pregnant.
Everything went silent in the room, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. *Drops pin* Told you.
Alexa: Trace?
Trace: I should have sat down.
Trace Demon: You’re all about the moaning now?
Trent: Hey, you stopped drinking, that means I can start moaning. People can change you know.
Trace let out a small laugh that makes Trent smile. For the first time in an age Trent recognises the laugh as something real, like a laugh any normal person would laugh. It isn’t the laugh of a man who had no purpose in laugh, the laugh he’d have heard from Trace this time last year. This was something new, somebody who was content with life and everything that it brought with it.
Trace and Trent had been friends for years, ever since Trace had saved him from being smashed and stabbed in a bar by a large Irish man who had no hair but did a lot of overcompensating. Not the friendly leprechaun type of Irish that you’d like to meet in a bar. Now that would be a bar trip worth making.
They’d gotten a job in the WFWF together two years back and rose up through the ranks, Trace as the awesome wrestler that he is and Trent as a backstage staff hand, now one of the top staff supervisors.
Trent: But as I was saying, what the hell happened to it man? It used to be glorious, it used to be the greatest fed I’d seen. Now I don’t want to come into work, don’t want to see it fall apart anymore than it already has. I don’t want to work with a psycho owner.
They were sitting outside the arena that WFWF were scheduled to present the latest edition of Loaded in that week. The very Loaded that Trace would face Shawn Malakai, that Trace would continue his mission to become World Champion for a second time.
Trace: The Shadow dudes lost control and King Kraig got back into power, that’s what went wrong.
Trent: No, it’s more than that, not that Kraig being in power isn’t a bad thing. Whose stupid idea was it to sell the fed to him in the first place? Clearly he’s going to run it into the ground even more. The dude’s got no personality worth watching and every time I see him I cringe.
Trent took another swig of his beer and for the first time it dawned on Trace that he wasn’t even tempted to have a drink. He hadn’t been tempted in months, ever since he quit when he got back with Alexa. The urges had stopped, he no longer cared about other people drinking, he didn’t even have the itch for alcohol anymore.
Guess it was possible for him to quit drinking, he told Alexa it wouldn’t be a problem. You gotta love being a genius whose right all the time, Trace certainly does.
Trace: I get you man, Kraig’s got no business sense and worse still, he’s absolutely crazy, as in he’s a cake tray short of a fat kids dream.
Trent: That would be one angry fat kid.
Trace laughed and felt the wind blow across his face. There was a storm coming in, the sky in the distance blackened by dark ominous clouds, bringing the gods of war with them. Or rain, it could be rain.
Thank god they brought the car with them.
Trace: It’s going to take some work, sure, but the WFWF can get back to its prime.
Trent: Not if everybody keeps running off cause they’re scared to put in the work to improve it man. They’d rather be known as traitors than failures.
Trace: Well they’re the type of people we don’t need around, not like they’d put in the work needed. They don’t want to be here, we don’t want them, right?
Trent: True man, just sucks that we’re the ones left holding the buck.
Trace shrugs as a flash of lighting bursts across the sky, followed by a crash of thunder. Lesser men would leave now, but Trace was too manly and courageous for that, it wouldn’t be until the rain came down that someone as manly as Trace Demon would hightail it out of there. Trent takes another sip of his beer while Trace throws down some of his water, a far cry from the whiskey he’d have been drinking six months ago.
Trent: How’s Alexa?
Their relationship was the stuff films were based on. Boy meets girl, great relationship ensues, drinking destroys relationship, six months pass, girl picks boy up from jail, boy punches out girl’s new boyfriend, boy and girl live happily ever after. At least he hopes.
Trace: Everything’s pretty good right now, although she’s been acting pretty weird lately.
Trent: Weird?
Trace: Well, y’know how she has the occasional mood swings?
Trent: Yeah, it’s called PMS man.
Trace: Well it’s been happening a lot more recently, and she locks herself in the bathroom most mornings and I don’t see her until later in the day.
Trent: Sounds like usual womanly behaviour man, don’t try to rationalise what they do.
Trace let out a small chuckle and pushed it to the back of his mind. He’s made it a point to try and take things easy, not to over analyse things too much. Thinking about things only seems to make them worse.
Damn, Einstein must have had a terrible life.
Trent: So, you’ve got Shawn on the next show.
Trace nodded, thinking to his opponent for the upcoming edition of Loaded. It was going to be a tough one for sure, facing one of the most experienced stars in the fed, but he’d faced stronger and better opponents, and he could topple someone like Shawn Malakai.
Trent: You realise it’s not going to be easy. The guy’s gonna be riding high after beating Thunder.
Trace: I can’t fault him, he beat Thunder fair and square, but then I kicked the ass of his former protégé last show, I intend to do the same thing to him.
Trent: Ashton isn’t anywhere near as experienced as Shawn.
Trace: And that’s my point. I’ve been hear what, half the amount of time as Shawn? And yet I’ve done things he’s never managed, he’s never held the world title but I have. He’s never won Survival of the Fittest, but I did. He’s never beaten Trace Demon, and that isn’t going to end anytime soon.
Trent: You sound pretty confident for somebody who lost the WFWF World title recently.
Trace gave him a look, that look that says who do you think you are, the look that asks ‘did you really just say that? A look that can mean a million things, a look that Shawn Malakai is unable of giving because he doesn’t have the grace or good looks of Trace Demon.
Trace: Alex Sean beat me fair and square, but that doesn’t mean I don’t intend to take the title back from whoever is meant to be holding the belt.
The first drops of rain began to fall, a large crash of thunder heard overhead, a battle cry from the sky to remind those below who really rules the planet.
Trent: Damn it, it wasn’t meant to rain today.
Trace: Your kidding me right? The sky’s been as black as Calvin Lee’s heart on Christmas day.
Trent: C’mon, we’d better head off, my wife will kill me if we’re out to much longer.
Trace: Dude, your wife would kill you if you sneezed without asking.
Trent nodded solemnly as they both laughed, walking back towards the car before the rain got any worse.
< *** >
Pushing his way through the apartment door Trace was faced by Alexa, standing motionless in the middle of the room, her hands clasped together over her stomach.
Trace: Um... hey. What’s going on?
Alexa: I’ve got something to tell you. You might want to sit down.
Okay, this isn’t good.
Trace: I’m fine standing.
Alexa: Okay... well, I wasn’t sure before today and I didn’t want to tell you before I was sure...
This sure as hell isn’t good.
Trace: What is it Alexa?
Alexa: I’m pregnant.
Everything went silent in the room, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. *Drops pin* Told you.
Alexa: Trace?
Trace: I should have sat down.
