Post by Thunder on Mar 2, 2012 23:38:07 GMT -5
“I pass the houses of the dead
They’re calling me to join their group
But I stagger on this stage
Dear God, sweet God
Protect me from the truth
I’m dead but I don’t know it . . .
They’re calling me to join their group
But I stagger on this stage
Dear God, sweet God
Protect me from the truth
I’m dead but I don’t know it . . .
It was one of those days where he just didn’t feel like getting up.
It wasn’t a matter of being depressed or anything. Although, to be fair, he had plenty to be depressed about. Most people would probably feel pretty depressed if their job performance had been as bad as his was.
His continued underwhelming performances were certainly still getting to him. It wasn’t entirely bad news in that regard, though, since he had actually won a match recently. And this point that was as rare of an occurrence as hearing Rick Santorum make a rational statement.
Even more “impressive” (standards in the area had dropped for him) was that the win came alongside his new tag partner, Ripp Jackson. That was encouraging enough, and should have helped give him a little confidence that he would be tag team
But there was just something about Jackson that he didn’t like. It was hard to put his finger on exactly what it was, but it was there, alright.
Well, there is one definite thing Thunder didn’t like about Jackson. Jackson had for some reason or another gotten the wonderful idea that they needed to meet up somewhere and have a talk.
He didn’t have the heart to tell the guy that this was a ridiculously pointless idea, but it did piss him off a little. What was he thinking, exactly? Did young naïve guys really think stuff would get accomplished like that? There’s only so much you figure out sitting around a table commiserating. As someone that had been in a lot of tag matches, and as a former tag team champion, he knew the only place most of the communication mattered was in the ring.
Plus, he couldn’t stand the damn accent of his. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as he sounded, but he sure did sound dumb.
And somehow Thunder had still agreed to this meeting. It was a way more conflict, although that was bound to pop up anyway. Meetings in which one person didn’t care at all tended not to go well. He knew that from experience, since was usually the one not caring.
~ ~
The novelty of eating out in Japan had worn thin over the years for him, and so had drinking Sake. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have gotten any of it all, and wouldn’t have even thought about it, had it not been for the empty bottle that was sitting at the table when he sat down. Apparently somebody in this place wasn’t doing their job too well. In addition, he helped himself to some sodas as well.
Either way, it did accomplish something. It put the idea in his head that he might as well have some himself, since his “friend” hadn’t arrived yet. Granted, Thunder was five minutes early, but still. When it’s your idea to meet up, you better be on time.
As the minutes dragged on, he also killed more time by playing Angry Birds. What? Don’t hate. It’s a good way to pass the time, and everybody else is doing it anyway. But just because a lot of people do it doesn’t mean it’s cool (despite what some potheads think).
He looked down at his watch. Fifteen minutes. Now he was starting to wonder if this was some kind of joke. That young punk probably thought it would be hilarious to stand him up It would be one of those really unfunny jokes, like everything Jay Leno says.
Then finally, he showed up, walking like a guy who hadn’t wiped his ass properly. Or maybe he just naturally walked like an idiot, in addition to talking like an idiot.
Being the Rhodes Scholar that he was, he apparently couldn’t even find Thunder without the aid of help. Finally though, with a little assistance, he moseyed on over to the table.
“That Sake bottle had better have been filled with water, mate,” Jackson said as he sat down.
Okay, so he really did want to piss Thunder off. That sure was one hell of a nice greeting.
“What, you have an issue with a man enjoying a little bit of hard proof?” Thunder replied.
“We’ve got a big match coming up brother. I don’t want my partner hung over or drunk. We’ve got a job to do.”
Now it was starting to make sense a little. Jackson, being both a moron and overly confrontational, must have automatically assumed Thunder had put away that empty bottle while waiting for him.
That was rather interesting. What exactly was he thinking right now? Was his opinion of Thunder really that low? Well, there were ways to find out. He knew exactly how to push people’s buttons. It’s a gift.
“There’s more to life than what we do, youngin’. You’re gonna have to learn that right quick otherwise this business is going to eat you up and spit you out while laughing at this ‘good, just little boy’ routine you’re running,” Thunder said, working to sound like the dumbest Southerner on earth. Or, in other words, Ripp Jackson.
Would he take the bate? Why, of course he would.
“And there’s more to life than alcohol and what can only be described as self-induced depression thanks to an impossible bout of ‘pity me’. You were supposed to be this professional wrestler, emphasis on the professional. I guess now you’re at the stage in your career, in your life where you need that liquid courage to move on, aye old man?”
And there it was, right out there in the open. That’s what Jackson really thought. This kid was somehow so diluted that he came in with the attitude that he was so far above his pathetic tag team partner. Now he was willing to take any piece of “evidence” to prove that point, and in doing so didn’t even consider that he could be making a major leap of faith.
“So what’s the game plan going into this?” Jackson asked.
Great. Now he was going to have to explain that to him. And Jackson would probably think he was an idiot for that.
“Hmm?”
“You. Me. Benjamin and Demento. Tag Titles. What’s the game plan?”
“Hmm,” Thunder said, as if the answer wasn’t blatantly obvious to him. “Wing it.”
“Incredible failed attempt at humor there, mate.”
Humor? He thought that was humor? God, Jay Mayhem would be a more intelligent partner.
Okay, maybe that was taking it a little too far. Jake Slash on the other hand, definitely more intelligent.
“Look man, I don’t know what your beef with me is. Since I came in here you’ve done nothing but mock and contradict me,” Jackson said.
Alright, games were over now. It was time to actually get serious with this punk.
“And since you came in here, you’ve done nothing but insult me for supposedly not taking this match seriously, for one reason or another.
“Look, kid. I know you’re excited for your first real opportunity here in the WFWF. I know you’re ready to prove yourself. Frankly, as long as you don’t cost me a win, I really couldn’t care less how you go about it. Have at it. But I’ll give you this one piece of advice. You need to pace yourself. Act like you’ve been here before. You’re getting on me for saying that I’m planning on winging it in this match. I’ve been in this business since you were just a little child…”
This speech would have gone a whole lot better if his phone hadn’t gone off. It was, of all people, Phillip Schenider. He didn’t even consider answering that call. He was, after all, a sane man.
“As I was saying. I’ve learned through my experiences that planning ahead is nothing but an unproductive waste of time. To learn someones weaknesses is useless, because by the time you’ve learned that weakness, they’ve made it a strength. You can’t waste your time by going over potential scenarios that may, could but probably will not happen in a match, because if you over think and overanalyze, you’re going to get tagged hard and lose. Trust me, I’ve done it more than once. But I’ve learned from my mistakes, I’ve learned not to overanalyze and as a result, I sit here before you today one of only three WFWF Grand Slam Champions in history.
“You have to just take whatever these guys throw at you and throw something harder. You can’t anticipate anything, because it probably won’t happen. Just go with it. ‘A rainbow is nothing more than a trick of light, making us think something is there when there really isn’t.’”
Maybe, just maybe, he would get through to the guy this time.
“Nice. Socrates?” Jackson asked.
“Dexter Morgan.”
That actually got Jackson to smile. Interesting to say the least. But there was still a whole lot more he wanted to say. Given how thick-headed he apparently was, the message needed to me a lot more clear.
And he wanted to make him feel like a douche. It wouldn’t be difficult.
““Point is Ripp, you’re looking for things that aren’t really there, and you’re letting your overzealousness and your previous impositions control your current actions. You were so sure that I wasn’t taking this match as seriously as you thought and wanted me to that you came in here wanting, hoping and praying to find something to hammer me for in order to prove yourself right. Truth is, I want to win this match as bad as you do. Not for you, for my own personal reasons. But the point is, I am. That shellacking you have me at the beginning when you walked in about the empty bottle of Sake? You’re so convinced that my generally laid back attitude was just me being lazy, not caring and wanting you to do all of the work in the match that you failed to learn that I refuse to pre-examine my opponents for fear of overanalyzing and costing myself the match. You’re so convinced that I was drinking myself into a stouper that you failed to notice that the bottle’s bone dry. It’s not even mine, it was still on the table when I took my seat.
“Let’s be honest, neither of us is very happy that Pierce placed us together, but when we win tonight, we’re stuck together until they pry those titles from around our waists. Maybe we’ll grow to tolerate each other, maybe we won’t, but we have no choice regardless but to live with it.”
Thunder got up from the table, fighting back the urge to smile as he was Jackson staring down at the empty bottle. Yes, it was safe to say he felt like a massive douche now.
“All things considered, since we have to live with it, we may as well make the best of it. I’m not as much of a tool as you think I am, and maybe now because of this little lesson I’m delivering to you free of charge, it’s registering to you what this is truly all about. You got raw potential kid, you just need to not the cart ahead of the ass. Now I was here twenty minutes before you, and in the process I downed three sodas. I gotta piss. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Sure, sure.”
And with that, Thunder was on his way and out the door. Yes, the guy was still so dumb he apparently didn’t realize that he was being bailed out on.
There was no need to stay anyway. He had made the message loud and clear, and now Jackson would have to chew on it a little.
As for leaving him with the bill, Thunder just saw it an opportunity for Jackson to make a nice gesture.
Think of it as respecting your elders.
~ ~
“Many years ago, it was winning the tag team titles that helped bring me to the top of this company. Finally winning a title was the starting point, and it was only up from there. Now, it is true that I actually did hold a title before that, the TV Title. But I wasn't even good at all then. I won it on a technicality and lost it quicker than it would take to tempt Lindsay Lohan into trying some coke.
But when I was a lot younger and needed to get somewhere in this company, the tag team titles started that. Now I find myself in a very strange situation. I've got a tag team title shot again, but now I am on the way down.
Everyone seems to know that as well, and everyone apparently wants to let me know. Even my own tag team partner doesn’t believe in me any longer. Well, he might have woken up a bit now, but there’s still probably that part of him that thinks I can’t handle it.
But what him and other people don’t seem to understand is that I’m used to adversity. You don’t last nine years in a company without a few hardships. You think this is bad? Try being the lackey for Obo and Percy, and that was before they were good. Back then they just smelled.
And it’s been worse than that too. Just look back at my career. Despite all the accolades I have, has anybody ever expected me to get where I have? Nobody even thought I could become number one contender against Pierce Deville, let alone beat Obo in his own style of match. By all rights, Wayne McGurk should have kicked my ass, and yet one year ago I won my third title from him. And despite no one ever believing I could beat EBR, I hold multiple wins over him, something barely anyone can say they have done.
You see, then, that I’m used to people not believing in me. But I know this is a low point for me and I know it looks like I don’t have it anymore. Maybe I don’t. Hell, it would be hard to think otherwise at this point. Maybe my career has been dead for a long time and I haven’t known it, but I’m not willing to give that up yet.
That’s because I know stuff about myself that no one else does. What no else knows is that when my young punk tag team partner looks at me like I’m a piece of garbage, that wakes me up a little. That’s not what I am. I am a man that for the past nine years has given everything I’ve had for this company. I’ve sacrificed it all and gotten it all because of that.
And now I’m looked at with pity, with shame. And I want to show my partner and everyone that what they’re thinking couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve worked far too hard and far too long to go down as I guy who wasn’t fit to lace up his boots any more. I can’t allow that to be the end of my legacy, and if I fail, at least everyone will see every bit of what I have in that ring.
And frankly, I couldn't care less about who I'm facing. But I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't get at least a little bit of personal satisfaction out of putting an end to that loud mouth Dave Demento's tenure here in the WFWF. I'll tolerate Ripp digging on me, because I have to. But I don't and won't take it from Demento, and he's got a right hook coming his way. Maybe it'll knock out what few teeth he has left. Can't make him look any uglier.
As I said earlier, these tag team titles have meant a lot to me. They marked a turning point in my career, and if I have any say in it, they will again. If I get that gold around my waist one more time, maybe people will some confidence that I can still achieve something in this business. More importantly, maybe I will have the confidence I need in myself.
I can’t make a guarantee that we’ll win. That would be foolish at this point. But I will guarantee that I will leave everything I have in that ring. And if my history is any indication, I think that will be plenty good enough.”