Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick.

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Rated R
WF Legend

Joined on: Aug 14, 2006 8:05:03 GMT -5
Posts: 6,111

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jun 25, 2012 13:14:35 GMT -5

Post by Rated R on Jun 25, 2012 13:14:35 GMT -5

‘All sins tend to be addictive, and the terminal point of addiction is damnation.’
- W.H. Auden

< *** >

The Demon Residence, Los Angeles

It’s all a mess, the entire bloody thing. I thought for a moment that everything was on track, that I’d finally got a grasp of myself and the world around me but oh, how wrong I was. This should be a time for celebration. I’ve beaten Phillip Schneider, finally banished that bunghole from my life for a little while at least, I’ve gotten my brand spanking new premier talent contract and best of all... best of all I’ve gotten the International title shot that I deserve, that I’ve deserved for weeks. My career is finally looking up, so it makes sense why my personal life seems to be falling to pieces.

I thought I’d beaten it, I thought I’d put the demons to rest and that I could finally get on with my life. I thought I was done with the drinks and the pills, with the partying and the women, I thought I was finally clean and sober, ready to move on to finally enjoying my time with Alexa and Eliza. The withdrawal symptoms had finally gone, even the smallest cravings had vanished. I was clear headed, thinking only about what was best for my family and my career. It was all on the rise.

And then I walked into that bar. It was a strategic decision, an art of war kind of thing to ensure that I got the in ring meeting with Pierce that I needed. Choose the battleground that you know rather than the one that holds mysteries. I know bars, I know every inch of them, I know how the smell of alcohol can affect the soberest of men, taking them off balance just for a millisecond and that was all I needed. And then there was the surprise factor, making him wonder why he was meeting a recovering alcoholic in a bar, ensuring that was he was thinking about instead of the business at hand. It worked, but the price... f**k me the price was too high. Sitting there, a glass of whiskey in front of me... I’ve never been so tempted in my life.

I was only saved by a phone call, a phone call from Hamilton General hospital, a place that has become all too familiar to me in the past few weeks. It was Emily, crying and hysterical, telling me amidst sobs that her grandmother had had a heart attack and was in intensive care. I told her I’d come straight out there, caught a flight and did exactly that. Alexa understood, god bless her she handles all of the crazy of my life a hell of a lot better than me.

I got out there only to find that Sheila had passed in the hours that I was on the plane, which meant that Emily was all alone, and god damn it if I don’t know exactly how being alone feels like. I stayed out in Hamilton for about two weeks, with the exception of the three days I took out to go to the show and whip Phillip Schneider’s ass like the gimp he is, helping to organize the funeral and decide what was going to happen with the house.

So yeah, another funeral later and a long conversation with a social worker and that’s how I end up back here, sitting in the lounge at 2am with Emily sleeping in the spare room after only getting back into LA this, or rather yesterday afternoon. She didn’t want to stay in Hamilton, too many bad memories she said, and the social worker gave her the okay to come and stay with me since I’m family. That wasn’t the only thing the social worker said, but that’s not something I want to think about right now, I’ve got enough things on my mind. Like the fact that I’ve been craving a drink ever since that moment in the bar.

That’s the big problem with addiction, it never actually goes away. Anyone who had a drink and tells you “Don’t worry, I’m not an alcoholic anymore” is a f*****g liar, because an alcoholic is always an alcohol. The cravings still stay, the withdrawals come and go for years to come. After a year they get small, unnoticeable by the outside world, but they’re always there, a reminder of the mistakes that you’ve made and the weakness that you contain.

Trace Demon: What in the world is this guy thinking?

I ignore the fact that I seem to have started speaking to myself at 2am in the morning to focus on the task at hand, the one thing I can do that’ll stop me thinking about that precious glass of whiskey, about that lovely little pot of pills (one of the big problems about being addicted to both narcotics and alcohol is that they become linked in your wiring, you start craving one and the other follows).

Watching wrestling tapes. In particular, tapes of a guy called Slanted, my opponent for Loaded this week. All I can really tell from the very few matches he’s had is that he’s a bit of a step down from Schneider. If anything it seems like he’s a peace offering by Xavier, a goat for me to eat. In this metaphor I’m the T-Rex from Jurassic Park, you need to know that so you don’t think I’m going around eating live goats.

This is pointless. I don’t know what I’m going to learn from these tapes other than the fact that this guy can’t wrestle and that I’m kind of insulted that I have to share a ring with him.

I get up from the sofa and walk over to the kitchen, grabbing myself another glass of water. My head’s been pounding for two weeks but it’s not a headache, it’s a trick. It’s a trick that addiction plays on you to try and get you to down some painkillers in the hope that it’ll help. But painkillers don’t help someone with an addiction to narcotics. Believe it or not but covering up Oxycodone addiction with other painkillers is not the first step on the road to recovery.

I should be asleep, but that’s been proving difficult in the past two weeks. Every time I’ve closed my eyes all I’ve been able to think about is everything that has been going on, and how it could all be so much easier if I could just have a drink. But I can’t, I know that, I’ve been sober for two years and if I fail now then everything is ruined. I can’t be a father to my daughter if I’m getting high all the time. I may have been a functioning addict, but even I’m not delusional enough to think that I should be around a eight month old when I’m tripping balls.

And now I don’t just have Eliza and Alexa to worry about. I’ve got Emily here as well. Alexa seemed fine with it, and knowing her she probably is, but I’m struggling. If it was just for a few weeks until she could move in with another family member then I’d be fine, but it isn’t.

Far from it.

< *** >

The Demon Residence

The first thing I hear when I wake up takes me off guard – silence. No birds, no cars going by on the road outside the house, just silence. It’s because of this that I panic a little bit, forgetting where I am, before I pull open the curtains to see the city outside of them. And then I remember.

I’m in Los Angeles.

And my grandmother is dead.

I’d always wanted to move to the city one day. I never felt like I belonged in suburbia with all of their perfect lookalike houses and their friendly neighbour routine. I never wanted to become one of their little boxes made of ticky tacky (and shame on you if you don’t get the reference). So here I am I guess, in the big city, far away from Sarah and all the rest. I’d always wanted to move to the city, but not like this.

My grandmother had a heart attack, a serious one. And I know what you’re thinking – all heart attacks are serious right? Well wrong, because some people actually get to survive heart attacks, to go on and live a perfectly healthy life for years to come. But when you’re a woman in your seventies, with a history of heart problems that apparently you don’t need to mention to your granddaughter well... you just aren’t that lucky. And worse of all, it’s all my fault. I was screaming at her, shouting about some stupid crap that I can’t even remember anymore, that’s how trivial it was. I was mad because Sarah had rebuffed me, because I’d made a massive fool of myself in front of the one girl that I was in love with and I took it out on her, I screamed at her until she dropped.

I begged for her to fight through it, to come back to me. I told her I was sorry, that I hadn’t meant any of it, but nothing I said mattered. She slipped away from me, taking away the last connection that I had to my mother, the last bit of family that had been there for me since the beginning of my life. And now she’s buried, deep beneath the Earth, just left to rot like she was nothing. And I’m here.

Trace stayed with me at the house for two weeks, looked after me, treated me for the first time like I was really a member of his family. He had to go to work his precious little wrestling show and called his sister... my sister, Faith, to come and look after me like I’m some child who couldn’t be left alone. Hell, maybe I am a child. I shouted at an old woman until she died. What the hell do I know about the world?

I couldn’t stay there anymore. There were too many memories of what I’d done, of her lying there on the floor, grasping for me, desperately attempting to breath. All I saw when I was there was all the things that I’d lost, all the family that I’d never had because they were dead or because they had never known about me in the first place. So Trace invited me out here, to his apartment in LA. Let me move into the spare room for however long he’ll put up with me. I don’t know what happens then, I’m only sixteen, could I look after myself, could I manage to survive in the world on my own? I mean it’s not like he’s going to want a sixteen year old closet case hanging around for too long.

Maybe I could go and live with Faith. I mean, she’s sarcastic, blunt and crazy driven about her work so basically she’s just a female version of Trace. The biggest problem with that is whereas Trace puts all of his drive and motivation into the ring and proceeds to beat people up for a living Faith is training to become a lawyer, which means that while she plans on metaphorically beating people down into a courtroom ground she isn’t quite there yet and has all this pent up lawyer aggression. I’d say it must be a family thing but from by brief meeting with Axel he seems pretty mellow so maybe Trace and Faith are just crazy.

Trace Demon: Emily, you up?

One thing about Trace that he’s learnt from years of working with a microphone is how to propel his voice, so when he shouts it carries through every wall in the house. I push open the bedroom door and lean my head out.

Emily Hall: Yeah, why?

Trace Demon: You want pancakes?

Another thing is that despite not looking like it Trace is a surprisingly great cook.

Emily Hall: Sure, just give me a chance to shower and I’ll be out.

He nods and I close the door, pick up a towel and wrap it around myself before quick stepping it to the bathroom. The only room you have to pass to get to the bathroom from the spare room I’m staying in is the nursery, so I poke my head in. Like I thought she isn’t here, otherwise Trace wouldn’t dare shout in the house. I remember Alexa mentioning taking Eliza to see her brother since he lives nearby so I guess that’s where they are. I close the door of the bathroom and flick the water on, giving it a few moments to heat up before stepping in, letting the water wash over me and taking all of my thoughts with it.

Alexa’s nice. I know that I’ve only really known her a week but she seems like somebody I could be friends with, somebody who I could actually talk to. She wasn’t the kind of woman I was expecting Trace to be with. I pictured him as some freewheeling bachelor type sleeping with a different woman every day of the week, not settled down with a nice, sweet girlfriend and a kid. I guess people can surprise you.

Trace’s entire family... my family now I guess, surprised me when they call flew down for my grandmother’s funeral. Trace was the only one who had ever met her but they all came out for it, probably at Trace’s behest. When he wants you to do something he’s very hard to turn down. If he decided to lead a cult he’d probably be pretty good at it, though I shouldn’t put that idea in his head.

I turn the water off and step out of the shower, drying myself off before wrapping the towel back around me and heading back to the room. Trace shouts out at me as I’m midway there.

Trace Demon: Pancakes are ready.

Emily Hall: I’ll be out now.

I quickly dry off and throw on some of the clothes that I’ve managed to unpack, making a note that I really should unpack the rest of my stuff today, and head out into the kitchen where there’s a plate of freshly made blueberry pancakes on the table.

Trace Demon: That good for you?

Emily Hall: Yeah, perfect, thanks.

Trace has been amazing in the past two weeks, making me feel for the first time that I’m really a member of a family. Besides the weird hair, which I swear he keeps just because it’s part of his silly wrestling character, he’s actually a pretty normal guy. I know from what he’s told me that he wasn’t always like this, that he’s got a whole lot of history but it isn’t the past that matters, it’s the present, and right now he’s exactly the kind of brother that I need.

Trace Demon: So Alexa’s taken Eliza to see her brother...

Called it.

Trace Demon: And I’m meant to be meeting Wayne in a bit, you going to be okay on your own?

All I know about Wayne is that he’s one of Trace’s friends who used to work with him.

Emily Hall: Um, sure, I’ll just unpack my stuff.

Trace Demon: Please, you’re in Los Angeles, nobody does anything productive in Los Angeles. Here.

Trace picks his wallet up off of the table top and pulls out at least $100 in bills, placing them down on the table in front of me.

Emily Hall: What’s this?

Trace Demon: Consider it... pocket money.

He grins at me like it’s nothing, but it isn’t nothing, it’s $100 of his own money.

Emily Hall: I can’t take this, this is yours.

Trace Demon: Please, I’m rolling in cash now that I’ve got this new contract. I’m even thinking about investing it.

Emily Hall: In what?

Trace Demon: Who knows, maybe a circus?

I look at him sceptically, because while for most people that would be a joke for Trace it could be more. He seems to be the type who’s always looking for the next crazy thing to do to keep things interesting.

Emily Hall: Still, I can’t take your money.

Trace Demon: Well I’m not taking it back. Now eat your pancakes and go and enjoy the city. Just make sure you call me if something goes wrong, alright?

Emily Hall: Sure.

Trace walks off into his bedroom, probably to get changed, and I take a bite out of the pancakes. They’re delicious, as always. I could get used to this, but I need to be careful not to. I don’t know what’s going to happen once Trace and Alexa get tired of having me around. I don’t know where I’m going to end up.

I mean it’s not like I’ll be here forever, is it?

< *** >

Social Workers Office; Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Two Weeks Ago

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Crazy. That is the only way to describe the past few days. I’ve flown out to Hamilton, witnessed Emily’s grandmother die in a hospital bed, seemingly taken over looking after her for the time being, I’m trying to fight through the cravings that have reared their ugly head once again and tomorrow I need to fly out to Seattle to face the biggest bunghole in the history of bungholes, Phillip Schneider. Crazy isn’t even a strong enough word to describe what’s going on. I need a whole new term. Maybe I’ll start saying cray... no, that’s just f*****g ridiculous. Who the hell thought that crazy even needed shortening in the first place?

And on top of all that, now I have to meet with a social worker about Emily. I don’t know what they’re going to say, I don’t know where Emily’s meant to go. I do however know that I can’t stay here looking after her forever. Maybe she could move out to Los Angeles for a while, stay with me and Alexa in the spare room?

Should probably get this meeting over before I start thinking about the future.

I’ve been sat in this office for at least ten minutes, waiting for the social worker to finally turn up and tell me what the hell is going on. It’s the problem with government workers, they assume that because they’re getting paid regardless of what’s going on that they don’t have to worry about customer relations. Well guess what? I’m not the usual kind of customer at the best of times and right now I’m suffering with the headaches that only come along because I’m craving a drink. I can handle those when it comes to family and friends, but this is a person I’ve never met before so they need to be quick before I cause a public relations nightmare to Pierce. I can see the headline now – ‘professional wrestler kicks social workers ass because social worker idiotically kept him waiting.

It’ll probably need to be shorter to catch people’s eyes, but I’m a wrestler, not a writer.

Finally the door opens. About time. I was about to smash some s**t up.

Hayley Thompson: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Trace Demon: My time is very precious you know.

As she walks around the desk and takes her seat I can’t help but check her out. I’m surprised to find that it isn’t the middle aged sassy black woman I was lead to believe by years of watching family comedies, but rather a very attractive woman in her late twenties. Jet black shoulder length hair frames a just about perfect face, and I swear that she is only wearing a tight skirt because she wants to catch me off guard because damn... those legs are divine.

Hayley Thompson: Yes, I’ve heard. A professional wrestler, right?

And she’s got attitude. Remember Alexa Trace, just because the withdrawal cravings are back doesn’t mean the bunghole’s back too.

Trace Demon: Soon to be a very rich professional wrestler, but I doubt we’re here to talk about my job, are we miss...

Hayley Thompson: Thompson. Hayley Thompson.

Trace Demon: Well let’s hope it’s a pleasure meeting you Hayley.

She tries to hide a smile as I shoot her my signature grin. I have no plans on doing anything, I am madly in love with Alexa after all, but why have these dashing good looks and chiselled features if you aren’t going to use them, am I right?

Hayley Thompson: Well then, let’s talk about Emily.

She opens up a file on her desk and it strikes me how so many people are still keeping physical files when there’s a perfectly good alternative called a computer. I mean you’ve got a laptop on your desk lady, why not use it and save some trees while you’re at it.

Trace Demon: Her grandmother only passed four days ago, I’m surprised that you called so early.

Hayley Thompson: Well we like to get on top of things here, this isn’t Los Angeles.

Trace Demon: I’ll have you know the women over there like to get on top of things as well.

She holds in a laugh. The trick to making a double entendre funny instead of creepy always lies in the charisma of the person saying it, and luckily for me I’m as charismatic as they come.

Hayley Thompson: So you’re currently looking after Emily at her grandmother’s house, is that right?

Trace Demon: That’s the gist of it.

Hayley Thompson: But you live in Los Angeles. No plans on moving back?

Trace Demon: No, I like the city a little bit too much.

Hayley Thompson: So you plan on moving Emily out there with you then?

Trace Demon: Wait, what?

I was assuming this was a meeting where we’d have to argue about me looking after her in the first place. I mean we only discovered we were related six weeks ago, it’s not like the childcare agency can know that.

Hayley Thompson: You do know what this meeting is about, don’t you Mr. Demon?

Trace Demon: Honestly, no. I don’t have the faintest idea.

She looks a little surprised; clearly she knows something that I don’t. She double checks something in her file.

Hayley Thompson: Well Emily’s grandmother went to her attorney a few weeks before her death, requesting to change Emily’s guardian in the case that she passed...

Why does this already sound like some big life changing revelation is about to be bestowed upon me?

Trace Demon: So you’re telling me Sheila knew she was ill?

Hayley Thompson: That would appear to be the case, yes.

Oh yeah, the life changing revelation is right around the corner, ready to leap out and punch me in the face.

Trace Demon: And that she changed Emily’s legal guardian knowing that she wouldn’t be around too much longer?

She nods.

Trace Demon: Let’s cut to it shall we, what are you telling me?

Hayley Thompson: Well Mr. Demon... you are the person that Mrs. Hall put down as Emily’s legal guardian.

Boom, life changing revelation. Felt more like a nuclear bomb that a fist actually.

Hayley Thompson: Obviously we had some concerns due to your former issues with alcohol and drugs, but from what we understand you’ve been sober two years, you passed your last drug test and you’ve had no problems with the law. All that remains is for an inspection of the property that you are living in and you’re confirmation before the paperwork can be pushed through.

Trace Demon: So you’re telling me that I’m going to be Emily’s guardian?

Hayley Thompson: Yes, that is what I’m telling you.

Me, Emily’s guardian, Emily’s primary caregiver? I can barely look after a eight month old let alone a sixteen year old that I’ve only known existed for two months. How am I meant to do this? How do I tell Alexa that the Canadian government wants Emily to come and live with us? I mean I’m not the type of person who should be raising a sixteen year old girl.

Trace Demon: How long do I have to make a decision.

Hayley Thompson: Well due to the circumstances we are willing to give you a month before we have to have a decision.

Trace Demon: And if I decide not to?

Hayley Thompson: Well we’ll search for other options in the family, which are limited to your siblings...

Axel’s a twenty year old who can barely look after himself and Faith’s too caught up in this law thing she’s got going on to look after a teenager... and I know what comes next.

Hayley Thompson: Then we will have to enter her into a foster home.

F**k.

Yeah, that words better than crazy.

< *** >

The Streets of Los Angeles
Now

My grandmother used to tell me not to glamorize the big city, that it isn’t the type of place that’s forgiving to girls with wide eyes and big dreams, but being here now it’s difficult not to walk around with your mouth wide open. I’ve only ever been out of Hamilton once before, when we went to New York on a school trip, but that was two years ago at an age where teachers aren’t exactly going to let you wander about really taking it in.

But right now I’m sixteen, I’m on summer holidays and I’m in Los Angeles. For the first time I’m not constantly thinking about my grandmother or where I’m going to end up. I’m just here.

I have to make sure to not look like a total tourist as I walk through the streets, walking through crowds of people going to and from their jobs and their lives. Crossing the road is considerably more difficult that in Hamilton where you’ll only see one or two cars on the road at any given time. Everything seems busier here, and I love it.

I never really felt at home in suburbia, I could never get over this feeling that there had to be something more out in the big bad world, that there was more than just seeing the same people over and over again. I mean if I’d stayed there I’d have to see Sarah as soon as school got started again, I’d have to see her and Alex and all the rest of them as I walked around the streets. I made a point of avoiding everyone after I came out to Sarah, after I confessed my love to her, so I’ve got no idea if she told everyone, if the entire town was talking about me because I was ‘that lesbian’.

But here, here you’re just another person. If you do something the entire city isn’t going to know about it, if something goes wrong with one person there’s thousands and thousands more out there just ready for you to make a new start with. This is where I belong; this is where I should be. Not some small suburban town.

Of course, with this entire city to explore I’m left with a little bit of option paralysis. I mean with so many things to do what do you start with? Obviously I don’t want to wander too far from the apartment because I don’t really know my way around, so I’ve just been wandering, spreading out further around the blocks to see what there is nearby. Trace’s apartment is in a pretty good location, just minutes away from most places you’d want to go in any given day, so deciding on something to actually do for the day isn’t simple.

In the end I just go with the thing I know, deciding to grab a coffee while I work out my day. I passed a cafe a couple of buildings back, so I head back there, pushing the door open and walking in. The cafe’s back home weren’t very big, in a small town if you’re going to go out somewhere it’ll usually be a restaurant, just because that’s the small town mindset – what’s the point of going to a cafe when you can get all of that stuff at home? Here it’s a lot different. Even though this is one of the homelier cafe’s I’ve passed since I’ve been meandering about it’s still larger than any of the one’s back home and filled with people of all ages. I order a simple black coffee and take a seat near the windows so that I can still look out at the city and all it’s wonders.

Callie Jones: New in town?

I look back up to the voice to find a waitress placing the coffee on the table. I’m immediately unable to take my eyes off of her – she’s blonde, her shoulder length hair glistening from the sunlight that shines in through the window. Her eyes glisten a bright blue and her lips are a beautiful crimson colour. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I’m staring, and I hope that she hasn’t noticed.

Emily Hall: Um, yeah, how’d you know?

Callie Jones: You’ve just got that overawed look about you, y’know, deer in a headlights kinda thing.

Emily Hall: Oh...

I’d been trying hard not to have that look about me, to try and fit in. I guess it needs a bit more work. She laughs, surprising me. Hopefully I hide that better than I’ve managed my tourist nature.

Callie Jones: It’s not a bad thing, it kinda looks cute on you.

Emily Hall: Oh, thanks.

It comes out a bit cheerier than I intended. It’s not often that a girl who looks like this calls anything about me cute.

Callie Jones: I’m about to go on break, and you kinda took the last table. Mind if I join you?

Emily Hall: Um sure.

Well I couldn’t say no if I took the last table, could I?

Callie Jones: Great, I’ll just grab a drink and be right back.

Emily Hall: Okay...

She doesn’t hear the reply as she half walks, half skips off back to the desk. My god her ass...

Just forget I said that, alright?

< *** >

The Locker Room of Trace Demon; Key Arena, Seattle
June 9th

Enter, become the best paid man in WFWF, kick Phillip Schneider’s ass, leave.

Yeah, it’s been a damn good night. Hell, I could care less about the rest of it, just getting to wipe that putrid grin off of Schneider’s face was good enough to me. Let’s see what pathetic little excuse he comes up with to explain away his loss. We all know he’ll try, but we all know that whatever he comes out with is bull, I was better than him.

Get over it you little b***h.

Chucking my shirt on the side and flicking the shower up to near scolding I stand there, letting the stream of water strike against my skin. I’ve been struggling with it all, every single little thing. I haven’t told Alexa about what the social worker said, I haven’t told Emily about the choice I have to make. I know it affects them both, that it affects everything, but I’ve got this selfish feeling that I have to make this decision for myself.

And then there’s the cravings. Ever since that near slip up in the bar it’s all I’ve been able to think about, no matter what I do they won’t go away. And now the desire for oxy is worse than ever, to sooth the pain I’m feeling throughout my body. Usually the post match shower would sooth me enough that I’d be fine in a few hours, that it would settle down the burning and the stinging, but I don’t think it’s going to work this time.

I need to get to a meeting.

I turn the water off and grab the shower, drying myself as I walk back into my private locker room, one of the provisions of my lovely new contract. I pull on my clothes as three short knocks rap on the door.

Trace Demon: Who is it?

Wayne McGurk: Wayne, you decent?

Trace Demon: Not even close.

I walk to the door and pull it open, greeting him with my glistening abs on full show. It’s not a gay thing, it’s a ‘my body is ten times better than yours thing’.

Trace Demon: What the hell are you doing in Seattle, couldn’t go a few weeks without me?

Wayne McGurk: Well actually, I was here to see Pierce.

Trace Demon: Deville’s here?

Wayne McGurk: Do you always have to make that joke?

Trace Demon: Until you stop reacting to it.

I leave the door open as I go and grab my shirt and pull it on, Wayne entering the room.

Wayne McGurk: Nice locker room you got here.

Trace Demon: One of the perks of being a tactical genius.

Wayne McGurk: Ah, the new contract.

Trace Demon: Not just a new contract, a new lease on life my friend. I’m going to running this place in a few months. First Schneider, then Drakz, then the rest of these unappreciative dicks. Now, what could you have to talk with Xavier Pierce about? Thinking of making a comeback?

Wayne McGurk: Scarlett.

It’s rare that somebody can pull the sceptical look from me. I mean I’ve just about seen it all, seen every great thing and every terrible thing that humanity is capable of, so for somebody to surprise me, well they’ve probably done something very, very interesting.

Trace Demon: Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Scarlett off to Xavier Pierce. You’re not that poor, are you.

Wayne McGurk: Your humour’s getting worse, you know that?

Trace Demon: I’ve been told.

Wayne McGurk: I was speaking to Xavier about training.

Trace Demon: As in, training Scarlett... to become a professional wrestler?

Wayne McGurk: Yeah. She’s told me that it’s what she wants to do, she’s asked me to train her but I didn’t really want to take the lead on that, I mean don’t go into business with your family and all that, so I came here to see what kind of training the WFWF offers nowadays.

Trace Demon: I’m guessing it’s a whole lot of nothing.

Wayne McGurk: You guess correct.

Of course I guessed correct. I’m the supreme king of guessing. Also, I know exactly how bad a state the WFWF is in. Back when I started there were house shows, there was a place for new guys to train, now they’re thrown into debut matches with people like Michael Kyzer, Drakz and Phillip Schneider (although that last name isn’t really anything to write home about anymore).

Trace Demon: So what, just go find a wrestling school for her. There’s plenty out there.

Wayne McGurk: Yeah, I really don’t think Vanessa is going to let Scarlett train anywhere where she doesn’t know somebody personally, hence why I came here.

Trace Demon: So Vanessa’s actually on board with this?

Wayne McGurk: Well actually, I haven’t told her yet.

I grin at him, the great Wayne McGurk, the ultimate expert in all things family, keeping things from his wife. And not just any wife – Vanessa, the one woman who not even I would mess with.

Trace Demon: She is going to kill you. I mean literally, she will kill you.

Wayne McGurk: I can talk her round, I’m good at that.

Trace Demon: No, I’m good at that. You are terrible at that. You couldn’t talk your way out of a paper bag when it comes to Vanessa.

Wayne McGurk: Look, I’ll talk to her, I’ll convince her, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.

Good thing too. If he asked me to try and talk to Vanessa for him I’d have to say no. Because out of all the conversations I never want to have convincing Vanessa to let her daughter become a professional wrestler, after all the stuff that she’s seen happen to people like me because of wrestling, is right up there with convincing Palestine and Israel to broker peace and convincing the Disney channel to make a series based on my life.

Trace Demon: Then what?

Wayne McGurk: Well...

Slanted: Oh... my... god.

Both of our heads turn to the open door – note to self, make sure the door is closed next time. In the doorway stands some idiot, gawping at me and Wayne. They’ll let anybody in the back nowadays.

Slanted: You’re Trace and you’re... you’re Wayne... oh my god.

Trace Demon: When did they let fans backstage? You’re not some make-a-wish kid are you, because nobody in this company is nice enough to be a part of that.

Wayne McGurk: I think he’s a wrestler.

Trace Demon: A what now?

This kid, a wrestler, and he’s gawping like he’s just seen Jesus turn up in front of him and start smiting sinners.

Well, I suppose I’m the closest thing to Jesus people are going to see. What, that’s not too arrogant.

Slanted: Um, yes sir, I’m a wrestler.

Trace Demon: Really, because I find that really hard to believe. How many matches have you won kid?

His head drops.

Slanted: None.

Trace Demon: That’s what I thought. Now out.

Slanted: Wha...

Before he gets the opportunity to say anything else I slam the door shut on his face. It’s mean, I know, but I’ve kind of stopped being nice around here. People like Wayne have earned my respect, he’s an actual friend, but people like Slanted... well he’s nothing to me, and I’m treating people like they are nowadays.

Wayne McGurk: Well that was harsh.

Trace Demon: I’m harsh now Wayne, get used to it.

He laughs, unable to take me seriously after the years that we’ve known each other.

Trace Demon: So, as you were saying?

Wayne McGurk: Right... I want you to help me train her.

Trace Demon: You’re joking right?

Wayne McGurk: Not this time.

Of course he wants my help to train Scarlett. I mean I’m a technical expert, a submission god, a master of the microphone and an all around delightful guy. I mean I’m so good I’m constantly besieged by requests to appear at super sweet sixteen’s, but every time I ask if it’s okay for me to punch to the birthday girl in the face they tell me no, so I decide not to go.

Come on, who doesn’t want to punch one of those super sweet sixteen girls in the face?

Trace Demon: I am not the kind of guy Vanessa is going to want training her daughter.

Wayne McGurk: And why not?

Trace Demon: Don’t give me that crap. We both know why not. I’m a recovering addict...

Let’s not tell him the fact that ‘recovering’ is on the edge of disappearing from that statement if I can’t get this thing under control.

Trace Demon: A social train wreck and a guy who built his original career on being willing to put his body through just about anything.

Wayne McGurk: Trace, you’re the one guy I’d trust training my daughter. You’re the only adult I know besides me and her mother that she even likes.

Trace Demon: She likes me, really?

The sarcasm isn’t lost on him.

Wayne McGurk: Stop being an ass.

Trace Demon: Sorry, it just comes so naturally.

Wayne McGurk: Look, I hate feeding your ego because it’s already big enough as it is...

It’s true, my ego is so big that it dwarfs every planetary system known to man.

Wayne McGurk: But you’ve somehow developed a grasp of technical wrestling that I haven’t seen a lot, and I’ve been about Trace. You’re an expert at the basics, you know how to sell a move and you’re responsible... when you want to be. I’m not asking you to do it on your own, I mean just help me train her.

Trace Demon: I don’t know man, I just don’t know whether I feel comfortable being responsible for someone else.

Why is it that I get the feeling this isn’t entirely to do with Scarlett anymore. I mean can’t I just go a single day without my subconscious attempting to teach me a lesson? My life is not a freaking lifetime movie!

Wayne McGurk: You’re raising a kid Trace, things don’t get any more responsible than that.

It’s a good point, if I can raise an eight month old then maybe I can manage with a fully grown teenager. And I mean, isn’t thirteen – fifteen meant to be the worst years? Surely sixteen is a perfectly responsible age.

Wait, I was sixteen once.

F**k that being a responsible age.

Trace Demon: An eight month olds different. I mean all I have to do there is make sure she’s eating, sleeping and not drop her on her head. Being responsible for a fully grown human being is an entirely different ball game.

Wayne McGurk: I’m asking you to train her, not raise her.

Trace Demon: Do you think I could?

Wayne McGurk: What, raise my daughter?

Trace Demon: No, raise a teenage girl?

Wayne McGurk: Dude, you’ve got years before you have to worry about that.

Not as long as you might think.

Wayne McGurk: So, will you do it?

I pause, deciding whether I can give him an answer now or not. Whether I even have an answer for myself. I’m in no doubts that my own problems, my own concerns about whether I’m responsible enough to take responsibility for Emily for at least the next two years, are clouding my judgment when it comes to this. Usually I doubt I’d even have to think about it, I’d just say yes, but with everything else going on, with my entire body screaming out for a fix every moment of the day, I just can’t trust my own judgment anymore.

Luckily, I don’t have to. A knock at the locker room door ensures that.

Trace Demon: Who is it?

Stagehand: Xavier Pierce needs you for the meet and greet right away sir.

I pull open the door, looking at the scrawny looking stagehand in front of me. Clearly he’s been watching the shows because he looks a little bit petrified that I might break his nose any minute now. Hell, I just might.

Trace Demon: What?

Stagehand: The meet and greet question and answer session for specially chosen fans?

Ah, so Mr. Pierce wants to make it look like I’m still a company player even though I’ve spent the better part of a month ripping the entire WFWF a new one. Well that’s fine with me, let’s have some fun with it.

Trace Demon: Tell him I’ll be there in two.

He nods and scampers off.

Trace Demon: Give me a few weeks to sort out the stuff in Hamilton, then I’ll let you know about Scarlett, alright?

Wayne McGurk: Don’t keep me waiting too long Trace, you know there’ll be a list of trainers a mile long who want to train the daughter of the great Wayne McGurk.

Trace Demon: Looks like my ego’s rubbing off on you.

Wayne McGurk: God, shoot me now.

< *** >

Cafe; Los Angeles
Now

Callie Jones: Well that just sucks.

There’s something about Callie, I don’t know whether it’s just the fact that she’s the first real person I’ve spoken to in the city other than Trace and Alexa or if there’s something about her, about the way she acts and the way she makes you feel settled, but I feel like I can tell her things. Things that I usually wouldn’t tell a complete stranger. I mean here we are, having known each other for all of fifteen minutes and I’ve already told her about my grandmother’s heart attack. Obviously I left out the bit where I was yelling at her like a b***h, but still, baby steps.

Emily Hall: Yeah, so now I’m staying here.

Callie Jones: For good?

Emily Hall: For however long they’ll have me really.

Callie’s only seventeen herself, but she carries herself as someone much older. She told me that she’s only doing this job because her mother is a failing actress like so many others out here. It just shows that everybody has problems, no matter where you are.

Callie Jones: So you brother, is he nice?

Well he’d probably eat you for breakfast. Or eat you out.

Eww, why would I think that?

Emily Hall: Yeah, he’s nice, and his girlfriend seems lovely.

Callie Jones: Live in?

Emily Hall: They’ve got a kid together, an eight month old daughter.

Callie Jones: Well who doesn’t love crying babies?

I laugh, with no idea why. It reminds me of the times I spent with Sarah, all the laughing over bad jokes, talking about pointless stuff while all the time all I could think of was how I wanted to kiss her, to tell her the truth.

And then I did, and it went all hunky dory. Oh wait, not quite.

Emily Hall: It’s not that bad, pretty quiet for a baby from what I can tell.

Callie Jones: So, not missing perfect little suburbia at all?

Emily Hall: Not for a second.

She grins, and I have to stop my heart from skipping right out of it’s chest.

Callie Jones: Well, don’t turn your back on it so soon, you might find one day that you actually miss it.

Emily Hall: I think it’ll take something pretty big for that to happen.

I surprise myself with the honesty in the statement. I know that I’ve been telling myself that I never belonged there but there was always part of me that thought I’d be stuck there forever, hanging onto memories and dreams that I never managed to achieve. Now it’s happened and I couldn’t care less about not being in the town I was born in, about being hundreds of miles away from the town that my mother raised me in.

Callie Jones: Fair play, I mean I know I could do with a bit of peace and quiet now and then, and you don’t come across that in the city all that often.

There’s a hint of sadness in her voice that she doesn’t try to mask. Almost as if Callie notices this she immediately tries to change the subject. I’m in no place to push her on it anyway.

Callie Jones: So your brother, what is it that he does exactly?

Emily Hall: Umm...

Callie Jones: That bad?

Emily Hall: He’s a wrestler... Trace.

Callie Jones: Trace Demon?

I’m taken off guard by the fact that she has any idea who Trace could actually be. I didn’t realize that wrestling could actually be popular here. As if seeing my expression she feels the need to explain herself.

Callie Jones: My manager’s a real wrestling junkie, that’s him over there.

I turn to see a guy sitting a few tables away watching a video on his laptop. He looks normal, like the kind of guy you’d see in a club or something, not what I was expecting when people use the term wrestling fan. It takes a few seconds to see what he’s watching.

Callie Jones: Plus to be honest with you, Trace Demon’s kind of well known, mainly because he does these awesome rants and...

Emily Hall: I think he’s watching a video of my brother.

Callie Jones: Oh yeah, he definitely is.

Someone watching a video of Trace... how bizarre.

Last Edit: Jun 25, 2012 13:18:10 GMT -5 by Rated R

Rated R
WF Legend

Joined on: Aug 14, 2006 8:05:03 GMT -5
Posts: 6,111

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jun 25, 2012 13:16:51 GMT -5

Post by Rated R on Jun 25, 2012 13:16:51 GMT -5

Trace Demon Q&A

Posted: Today, 16:32
Title: Uncensored Trace Demon Q&A session
The following was posted on youtube a number of hours ago under the title ‘uncensored Trace Demon Q&A. The session itself was organized by the WFWF following this week’s Loaded but was not uploaded onto the company website as they had previously announced. After viewing it, it’s obvious to see why.

Warning, the following video contains obscene references and abusive language.

As the screen flickers to life we see a large room, prepared for some kind of meet and greet. It’s being recorded on a handheld camera, something that a fan has clearly brought into the room. With the handpicked fans having taken their seat a round of applause breaks out as Xavier Pierce steps out onto the stage, microphone in hand.

Xavier Pierce: I’d like to thank you all for coming out here today for this special question and answer session. I know that there has been a lot of talk about the relationship between the WFWF and the our special guest but I’d like to assure you all that things have never been smoother, so without further delay let me introduce you all to the one and only, Trace Demon!

There’s another round of applause as Trace Demon walks out onto the stage in jeans and a shirt. He hasn’t made a whole lot of effort for this one, if anything he looks like he’s just rushed over here from his locker room or something. As Trace and Xavier cross paths they share words unheard by the camera. What is quite obvious is that Trace snatches the microphone out of Xavier’s hands and walks to the center of the stage.

Trace Demon: Well isn’t this fun.

There’s another round of applause as Trace smirks. He doesn’t look too impressed.

Trace Demon: So apparently I’m meant to be doing some question and answer session here, because as we all know I’m a company man.

If it was possible to be any more sarcastic I’m sure Trace would have found it by now.

Trace Demon: So before I go postal and start punching people in the face, how about we get this pointless exercise in futility over with? Hands up if you’ve got a question. I assume they’ll all be pointless so don’t worry about sounding stupider than you will do just by talking.

A number of hands rise up. Trace rolls his eyes, then points to a man in the front row – a skinny man, the kind of pale kid that you just know is going to end up living in his mothers basement posting obscene pointless things on internet forums for the rest of his life.

Trace Demon: You, what pointless piece of information do you want to know?

Pointless Internet Troll: How do you feel about pulling off the biggest upset of the year by beating Phillip Schneider.

Trace smirks at the man, slowly coming to realize that maybe this could be a lot more fun that he was expecting.

Trace Demon: Oh, so you’re a Schneider fan are you? Makes sense I suppose, I mean look at you, you’re a pathetic excuse for a human being just like he is, I’m sure you’d have plenty of fun times b******g about how nobody is as good as he is at making up s**t, taking credit for everything and sucking off other guys.

The fan goes tries to say anything but Trace cuts him off.

Trace Demon: Hey, this is a question and answer session. You asked your question, now shut up and let me answer it.

There’s some laughter from the other fans in the room at the trolls expense. I mean who doesn’t like seeing a guy like this get knocked down a few pegs?

Trace Demon: Oh don’t worry, there’s a good chance that I’ll be getting to the rest of you soon enough.

The laughter dies down. Trace isn’t joking about that. Off of the corner of the stage Xavier Pierce walks on, but Trace cuts him short as well.

Trace Demon: Get off my stage Xavier, if you’d read the new contract properly you’ll see that it’s in my right to say what I want at any and all WFWF organized events, so thanks for organizing this one.

Pierce stops, unsure on what to do, he can’t really let Trace start insulting his fans, can he?

Trace Demon: Go on, stop me, breach the contract, I’m just looking for a reason to sue you.

Pierce’s head drops and he backs off of the stage.

Trace Demon: Good, now where were we. Oh right, the guy who wants to suck off Phillip Schneider. So, you’re going to call this an upset because you ride a guys d**k? I mean I like to f**k my girlfriend but if someone beat her in a wrestling match I wouldn’t really consider it an upset. But then there’s the big similarity between Schneider and my girlfriend – they both got f****d by me this week. Actually, strike that joke, Schneider would probably enjoy the idea of getting f****d by a guy too much. I mean that’s the only explanation I’ve got for his sudden relationship with Meg, the guy needs a beard and Meg needed some way to get her girl a contract. Win, win, right?

Pointless Internet Troll: Phillip Schneider is not gay.

Trace Demon: You sure about that? I suppose there is a difference between getting f****d and getting f****d up, because that’s what happened this week. No excuses, no petty bitching, the fact of the matter is your precious Phillip Schneider got beaten by a better man. And that’s gotta smart, I mean he loves to talk about how he’s the best, how I was nothing but a petty insect to him, and then I kicked his ass and made all his talk look like the pathetic crap it is and always has been. But anyway, talking about that piece of s**t is giving me a bad taste in my mouth. Next question.

The hands are slower to rise this time, people not wanting to get the verbal beating that the Schneider fan just got. Although seriously, that’s all the single Schneider fan deserved.

Trace Demon: Yes, you, overly attractive wrestling fan.

Damn, this one’s hot. Think Maria Sharapova hot. I’d hit that, and I’m just a disembodied narrative voice.

Overly Attractive Wrestling Fan: I was just wondering if you think you can win the International title against two men when you couldn’t against one.

Trace Demon: A good question, and I’m not just saying that because you’re hot.

He sends a wink her way and she visibly blushes. If Trace wasn’t a committed man he’d be getting some tonight.

Trace Demon: I mean yes, I lost to Drakz in the finals of the International tournament, but let’s be honest, the guy cheated. He didn’t beat me fairly. Now don’t think this is my way of excusing the loss. I’ve made a career out of cheating and he topped me, good for him, but it’s anything goes when there’s three men in that ring, which means I can do what I want to Drakz and Drake Elias. I mean that’s all Drake Elias is good for in this match, being a distraction; I mean it’s not like he stands a chance. He’s like this friend I once had. You see, this friend was dating a girl I liked, and I couldn’t be assed to go through the whole thing about sneaking behind his back to cheat with her. So what happened was we all ended up in the room together, having a good old fashioned threesome. Only it was more like I screwed his girlfriend while he had to watch.

A few of the fans are looking visibly uncomfortable at the way this thing’s going. They were expecting a nice question and answer session. Okay, it was always Trace, so maybe nice isn’t the right word. They were at least expecting him to tow the company line now he’s got his contract.

The camera catches sight of Xavier Pierce standing off to the side, looking mortified.

Trace Demon: You see, Elias is the third guy, he’s the one who doesn’t stand a chance but he’s been put in there because we can’t really do a triple threat match without him. I mean it’ll be nice for him to be there, he’ll get a bit of a kick out of it, but it won’t really be the same as actually standing a chance. And then there’s Drakz, and I’ve said a more than enough about Drakz. I mean let’s list the things I’ve called him in other interviews – ****, b***h, bunghole, a f****r, a f*****g bunghole, a f*****g ****, a tool, a useless piece of s**t, a no talent hack, a has-been, a paper champion, the guy who’s keeping my title warm... did I say a f*****g b***h yet? I didn’t? Then yeah, a f*****g b***h.

Several fans actually get up to leave at this point.

Trace Demon: Oh, was that too much, have I actually crossed the line? Have I finally gone one step too far? Well guess what... it doesn’t matter, because I’ve got the contract to do what I want. I don’t want to throw around the word ironclad, because it just seems so overused nowadays, but that’s what my contract is. That’s why Xavier Pierce is standing over there unable to do something. That’s why he’s already cut the official cameras and won’t be uploading this to the website. But that doesn’t matter, that’s why I paid some random guy to record the entire thing. Stand up Jake.

The camera rises up out of the seat, obviously the man holding it is Jake. Xavier Pierce spots the camera, and immediately sends security down to him.

Trace Demon: Oh look out, Xavier’s trying to stop my right to free speech. Better give me the camera.

Jake rushes forwards, handing over the camera to Trace. Obviously our camera angle is all over the place but eventually settles as the camera looks out at the fans, all of them looking horrified or intrigued at what’s going on. Security are walking towards the stage but have to stop as Trace get’s the camera – he’s the man with the golden contract. The camera turns around so that it’s looking at Trace directly. He’s grinning.

Trace Demon: You see, people should have known I had something planned by the fact that I showed up in the first place. I don’t like these things and now if I don’t want to show up I just wouldn’t. Can’t fire me because I’d be laughing all the way to the bank. But the fact is this was the perfect opportunity to show who really holds the power now.

The camera turns from Trace to show a horrified looking Xavier Pierce.

Trace Demon: Wave to the camera.

Xavier doesn’t wave, he just walks off in disgust. The camera moves back to Trace.

Trace Demon: Checkmate WFWF. Better luck next time.

The feed goes dead.

< *** >

The McGurk Residence
Now

Wayne McGurk: Saw that video from the question and answer session, think you may have lost my mind.

Trace Demon: You’re not the only one.

Wayne McGurk:You thought about what I asked yet?

Trace Demon: Nope, had a lot of stuff on my mind. Give me another few weeks, alright?

Wayne McGurk: Hey, not like I’m jumping at the chance for my daughter to go into this business. She’s the impatient one.

Trace Demon: Well tell her to hold on or I’ll drop her on her head.

I seem to spend more time at the McGurk household than my own some of the time. Today I’m round here because I need to talk to Wayne about some stuff, because I don’t know whether I can fight these cravings on my own. Only a fool would think you could manage that.

Trace Demon: Hey, what do you know about this Slanted guy?

Of course I’ve got to build up to that because apparently I’m a massive ****.

Wayne McGurk: Nothing much, why?

Trace Demon: Just seems like you knew a lot about him when he turned up at my locker room last week.

Wayne McGurk: I knew he worked with you, that was about it.

Trace Demon: That’s more than me.

I’ve spent some time trying to find out about the kid, I’ve learned not to underestimate even the most pathetic of opponents, but Slanted just seems like a guy who is being fed to the sharks. Still, I won’t turn down the chance of a free meal.

Wayne McGurk: Seems like a nice enough kid, kind of new to the game, needs to step up his game though. I mean he lost to a girl being trained by Meg, and she’s gone crazy enough to date Phillip Schneider.

Trace Demon: I worry for Meg. I mean Schneider’s last girlfriend had to kill herself because she knew that she’d touched him.

Wayne McGurk: That’s harsh dude.

Trace Demon: She was with Schneider then Kyzer, I’d have killed myself too.

McGurk returns from his kitchen with a bottle of water that he throws to me. He’s got an open bottle of beer in his own hands and the mere smell of it sends my mind into overdrive.

Wayne McGurk: Dude, you hear me?

Trace Demon: What?

I didn’t even hear him speak. They’re getting worse.

Wayne McGurk: How are things going with Emily?

Trace Demon: Yeah, they’re good.

He takes a swig out of the bottle.

Wayne McGurk: You know what’s gonna hap...

Trace Demon: I think I’m gonna relapse.

I cut him off mid sentence because I can’t take the smell of alcohol as it fills out the room. Most people wouldn’t smell it, but my body apparently wants to f**k me over right now so it’s given me super smelling powers. What a crap power that’d be.

Wayne McGurk: What? I thought everything was going fine with all of that.

Trace Demon: It was, and then things just started getting out of control. I mean first it was my mother, then I found out about Emily, then there’s the stress with the whole fighting the power thing I’ve got going on. And I mean now Emily’s grandmother’s dead and I’ve flying all over the place. Oh and the latest treat – they want me to become Emily’s legal guardian.

Wayne McGurk: They what?

Trace Demon: Yeah, that’s happening.

He places the bottle down on the floor out of my sight, which is of some relief.

Wayne McGurk: Have you... y’know?

He wants to ask if I’ve already had a drink, if I’ve already popped a pill yet, but in truth McGurk form he can’t ask the hard question all the way through.

Trace Demon: No, not yet. But it’s been tough, and it’s getting harder.

Wayne McGurk: You need to go to a meeting.

Trace Demon: I know, but the next one’s the same day as the show and then I’d miss out on beating up a kid who doesn’t look strong enough to carry my bag.

Wayne McGurk: Skip the show then, you’ve got that contract, just skip it and go to the bloody meeting. You’re not gonna be any use to anyone if you start using again.

Trace Demon: I know.

God I know. It’s all I’ve thought about for weeks.

Wayne McGurk: You need to make a choice man, you’re at a crossroads.

Trace Demon: Don’t go all jazz blues on me Wayne, I know how you love that soppy crap.

He grins, but it’s a forced one, trying to make it look like everything is fine even though we both know otherwise. The fact that I’ve known something is wrong for weeks and have only just told him is the biggest sign there’s a problem. As soon as you start trying to hide it you’re in trouble.

Wayne McGurk: Look, just make a choice. The meeting or Portland. It’s not difficult.

Difficult is exactly what it is.

< *** >

The Streets of Los Angeles

I stayed in the coffee shop a lot longer than I’d been intending to, just talking to Callie, getting to know her, finding out about the city that now surrounds me in all its glory. I stayed so long that before we knew it, it was the end of her shift. She ended up inviting herself to walk with me since she lives in the same direction as Trace, and I guess I do. It’s not like I was going to turn her down.

It’s surprised me how well I get along with her; because she just seems so different to everybody else I’ve ever known. She’s a big city girl, she knows what’s in and what isn’t, she knows where all of the cool clubs are and how to get served despite being seventeen. The closest anyone has gotten to anything like that back home is smoking pot, and that’s just accepted that everybody does that anyway. Callie just seems to take life by the reigns and run with it. I’ve never been like that.

Callie Jones: So I live ten minutes this way.

We’re at the turning just a few minutes away from Trace’s apartment, a busy bit of road that seems to connect everything. Cars pass by, lucky if they can avoid traffic, hoping that they’ll manage to get home before the drive deprives them of doing anything of their night. Kill me if I ever end up working in an office like that.

Emily Hall: Well I’m just down here.

Callie Jones: Cool, so we can hang out.

How carefree she is about things like that continues to surprise me. Back home you were friends with people just because there weren’t that many people to choose from. Here you could meet hundreds of new people every day that are probably a lot cooler than me and here she is, wanting to hang out with a small town girl like me.

Emily Hall: Yeah, of course.

Callie Jones: Alright, here...

She pulls out a piece of scrap paper and writes her number down on it, handing it over to me. She’s written her name on it and dotted the I with a heart.

Wait, did I just get a girls number?

Callie Jones: Call me sometime and we’ll make plans.

I can only manage a nod. What is going on here?

Callie Jones: Oh, do you like parties?

Emily Hall: Yeah, of course.

Even the best parties you get in suburbia are pretty poor because everybody lives so close together it’s impossible to get away with it, even if the parents are out of town. I mean getting people together and smoking up isn’t really an issue because the smell doesn’t pass through the walls, but the noise does, and suburban housewives and old people are just looking for an opportunity to call the cops.

Callie Jones: My friend lives in this huge house and her parents are going out of town next weekend so she’s throwing this big party, guys, drink, the whole big thing. You should come with.

Emily Hall: Um... sure.

I answer without knowing whether I’m even going to be here in a weeks time, let alone how I’m meant to sneak out from right under Trace’s nose. Really need to work on my split second decision making.

Callie Jones: Cool, we can sort out rides between now and then. I’ll catch you later then.

Emily Hall: Yeah, seeya.

She walks off up the road and I can’t help but watch her hips sway as she go. I told myself that after Sarah I was going to avoid crushing on anyone else until I was comfortable with it, comfortable with myself.

But damn, she is amazing.

Maybe Los Angeles is going to be better than even I expected.

< *** >

The Demon Residence
[/i][/center]

This has to be a joke. I mean come on, this kid can’t do anything in the ring, he’s going to get himself killed. Hell, he could get himself killed just getting into the ring, I might not even have to do anything.

It’s 2am again, and I’m sat out in the lounge watching tapes of Slanted, trying to find information on him online. I’m meant to get the flight to Portland tomorrow and I don’t even know if I’m going, the words of Wayne still echoing in my head – I’ve got a choice to make, the meeting or the show. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to go longer than a few days without another meeting, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen if I go to the show.

But forfeiting a match to this guy? I’d have to retire. I’d have to give up.

I’m usually good at scouting; I usually pinpoint every single weakness, every strength and minor detail before I get into the ring. But with this guy... well everything’s a weakness, but he had to be signed for something, surely? I just wish I could figure out what.

Alexa Monroe: Do you not sleep anymore?

Alexa catches me off guard from the bedroom doorway, leaning around the corner with only one of my T-shirts on. I thought I’d been quiet enough, but she always has known how to catch me off guard. She’s my one weakness.

Trace Demon: Just scouting for the match.

Alexa Monroe: Oh come on, you’re flight leaves in the afternoon, come to bed and get some sleep.

My flight. The one I need to catch if I’m going to make it to Portland, to make it to the show. Getting on that flight could be a death sentence for everything I’ve got. If I relapse I could lose it all – Alexa, Eliza, Emily, my career, my entire world could crumble and all because I was too weak to skip out on the show and attend a meeting. Wayne made a good point, this is a crossroads, which way am I gonna turn?

Trace Demon: Alright, just give me a few minutes.

She seems to catch the tone of uncertainty in my voice.

Alexa Monroe: Everything alright?

Trace Demon: Yeah, everything’s fine.

Alexa Monroe: You sure, you look a little pale. If you’re ill you could always skip the show, I’m sure that new contract of yours can let you do that.

It’s like the worlds setting me up for the chance to skip out on this, to let me just get my life back on track. But I need this match, I need the win. I need to show everybody that what happened with Schneider wasn’t a fluke.

Choice time Mr. Demon. Portland or recovery?

Trace Demon: Nah, it’s cool. I’ve got a match to win after all.

As I close the laptop and lead Alexa into the bedroom I know that the choice is made.

Portland, here I come.

< *** >

It’s not often that I feel bad for people. I mean it’s really f*****g rare for me to feel even the slightest emotion for somebody that I don’t have some kind of person relationship or history with, but even then I rarely feel sorry for them. What’s the point, it won’t change anything, it won’t alter the course of destiny that we have found ourselves upon. It won’t change the things that have already happened, the choices that we have made. I mean sometimes we find ourselves in s**t situations, or we put ourselves in s**t situations, but either way that s**t is still going to happen. It’s not in our control to stop what we don’t see... so what’s the point? I mean why should I feel sorry for somebody?

But Slanted, I feel sorry for you. I shouldn’t, I can’t really explain it. It’s not like I like you, if anything you’re just like all of those pathetic ingrates that call themselves fans. But I do, I feel sorry for you because you’ve found yourself in a situation completely out of your hands, you’ve found yourself in a situation unlike any other. You, a no talent hack from wherever the f**k your from, find yourself having to get into the ring with the hottest commodity in professional wrestling, and you find yourself doing it when I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life.

You see in the past week there have been a lot of excuses about why I beat Phillip Schneider. People have been saying that I cheated, that he was having a bad day, that I got lucky, when the truth is that everybody knows that I was just better than him. Phillip Schneider came to face me with the same mindset that he has everybody else, he put on the type of performance that he has done time and time again... but this time it wasn’t good enough. This time he found himself facing someone better than him, someone with more passion, with more brains and skill than he could ever hope to. You see the issue with Phillip Schneider is that he’s already reached his peak. There’s nowhere else that he can go. But me... I’m just getting started. I’m not even halfway there yet. I’ve got more to give than he could ever hope for.

But he’ll make his excuses. He’ll say he was tired or that he got complacent or that his mind was elsewhere, but deep down he’ll know the truth. He’ll say that it doesn’t matter that he lost because he’s beaten me before, but we both know that doesn’t matter either, the only thing that matters is right now, and right f*****g now I am better than Phillip Schneider, I am better than Drakz, I am better than Kyzer and Hutton Brown and Drake Elias and everybody else in this f*****g pathetic excuse for a company.

But I’ve got to keep proving that, because once isn’t enough. And if I have to ruin myself to do so I will. If I have to kill a poor little fan boy who got lucky and somehow got employed then I will. Until I have got everything that I deserve – the respect, the appreciation, the International Championship, I will not stop! I will not stop until I have it all!

So Slanted, you’ve found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean I don’t know what Xavier Pierce is playing at by putting you in a match with me this week because he damn well knows what I am capable of... but that isn’t my problem. I might feel sorry for you, but I will not let that stop me doing what needs to be done. I need to beat you, hurt you, make you feel the pain that I suffer through every moment of every day and I will not feel sorry for that.

It’s a simple thing really... I’m a mess of a human being, but the one thing I can grasp onto is this business. The one thing I know I can control is that ring when I’m ripping chunks of flesh out of idiots like you. And I’m not going to let that go. As everything falls and crumbles around me I am not going to lose the one thing that I know better than anything. And it may lead me to damnation, it may lead to the end of everything I’ve ever held dear... but it’s all I’ve got. It’s all I’ve ever had. It’s the one constant in a lifetime of trouble and strife.

I need this win. I need this more than I’ve needed anything in my life. And as I hear the clock ticking down to the day of my judgment I know where it will lead me. I’ve made peace with that. I’ve made peace with the world.

Have you paid peace Slanted? You should, because you don’t have much time left.

Tick, tick, tick.

Oops, time just ran out.

veronicaaaahhhh
Main Eventer

Joined on: Mar 8, 2005 2:17:07 GMT -5
Posts: 1,605

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jun 27, 2012 15:32:00 GMT -5

Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Jun 27, 2012 15:32:00 GMT -5

Simply put, I'm flat out impressed and insanely jealous with how you manage to pump out these roleplays on a regular basis and to be able to keep it up consistently, kudos!
What makes Trace's story so fun to read isn't just my little cameos haha, but its all the people around him: Emily, Alexa, and all the poor sods who have the misfortune of stepping his way. And its just great the way how all these things ultimately tie itself into his overall demeanor as he tries to resists falling back into addiction.
Great work as always!

Prophet of Ash
WF Legend

Nobody retires. We just stop taking bookings for a while

Joined on: Jun 2, 2011 10:48:41 GMT -5
Posts: 6,513

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jun 27, 2012 15:45:07 GMT -5

Post by Prophet of Ash on Jun 27, 2012 15:45:07 GMT -5

simply ctrl+f'ing..

Slanted is mentioned 13 times in this roleplay
Drakz is mentioned 7 times
Schneider is mentioned 25 times

Who exactly are you facing on this show? Who are you feuding with? I read a little bit of this earlier, but I am very busy as of late and frankly feel my time would be better spent reading someone who could use the feedback, or deserves it.. What little I read seems like YOU need a reality check. You won a match. That makes our "feud" 3 wins for me, 1 for you.. How is that a talking point by any stretch of the imagination? Furthermore, you beat me on a show that anyone else in my position would've said "no, I can't roleplay for this show, I'm too busy" because for the entire duration of roleplay time for the last Loaded, I was packing and moving everything I own into a new house. For the last several days of the roleplay time, I didn't even have internet, because my new house hadn't been installed yet. So congratulations, you beat me. You caught me on a week I probably shouldn't have been roleplaying at all, and you finally "earned" a win you've been trying to get for five years.

And you won the last match. I will never work with you. Ever. You are a piece of crap and you are everything wrong with this game. When I first returned, you were the #1 person I wanted to work with, and you were the person whom I designed a fairly intricate reintroduction storyline for. Not only would you not respond to any messages for that storyline to help things along, you submitted segments to shows that were straight up counter productive to the angle. I try to patch one thing, you go out and have a promo on the show where you're smiling and joking with the crowd, and NEVER EVEN MENTION the fact a guy is headhunting you. And ignore the feud that was laid out point blank for you..

And to be considerably more obnoxious, you can't just let it go there.. but have to continue to throw these little cheap shots, and talk crap.. When you lost the feud. You lost the blow off match to that feud, and you lost the rematch when EBR and I beat you and Hutton. When you lose two straight matches in a series, with a third loss before that, you lose your rights to talk crap.

And your "talking points" for the last show.. I still don't fully understand how they were ruled a win, since you clearly have no grasp of my character, at all. You talked about a LOT of things which were clearly directed out of character and made no sense at all in character. But because it was long and had 75% more filler with very little content, it was ruled a victory. I bit my tongue on that, and I bit my tongue here.. But I'm not one to keep my feelings to myself.

You frankly need to shut the

up. Your character is dead to me. If I'm ever holding a title and you earn a shot for it, I'd rather vacate it and leave the

ing federation than work with you again, not because I'm "afraid of you" or think you'll beat me, but because you're just an ignorant, moronic, piece of crap who has NO GRASP AT ALL on how to work a feud, or lay out a feud in a pro wrestling environment. And this is echoed by other people who worked with you before me.

Stubbornness is perseverance refined. So you have to watch what you say around stubborn people

Rated R
WF Legend

Joined on: Aug 14, 2006 8:05:03 GMT -5
Posts: 6,111

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jun 27, 2012 16:31:40 GMT -5

Post by Rated R on Jun 27, 2012 16:31:40 GMT -5

I won't be drawn into a petty squabble with you, so I'm just going to lay down some facts:

- As Shawn will tell you, for the majority of the last show I too was moving house because of a new job, so that puts us on par there.

- If you got the feeling that I was out and out ignoring you when you returned then I apologize. As many people will say, and have said, at that point in time I was doing nothing other than coasting along, putting in the bare minimum effort because of a number of personal reasons. That's not a good excuse for the lack of effort I put in, but that is what was happening, and that is the sole reason why I would have ignored a feud with you. I do remember getting a message from one of the mods at the time, and saying that I didn't feel up to working anything big because I was unsure about whether I was going to be sticking around.

- Anybody that I speak regularly off the board with, such as Mike, will tell you that my writing style is vastly different to who I am. When I write I'm not writing as me, I'm writing with Trace's voice in my head. I don't go out there purposefully aiming to take shots at you. We can both agree we don't like each other, but anything I say in a piece of fictional writing is not my own personal thoughts. It's why it's called fiction after all.

- I'm not going to argue on your opinions on my piece, because that's all they are - opinions. Clearly at least three others disagreed with you otherwise I would not have won. But again, you have your opinions, I have mine.

- I have no concerns over your feelings that I don't know how to lay out a feud, once again it's your opinion. I know a number of people on the board who say the same thing about you.

I get that you don't like me, that's fine, I'm not fussed. I do feel like you could have brought some of these feelings to me via PM instead of ranting here, but that is your prerogative. I'm going to continue doing things the way I'm comfortable with and I know you will do the same.

Last Edit: Jun 27, 2012 16:34:44 GMT -5 by Rated R

bad guy™
WF Admin

"Despair is contagious. Everyone has it."

Joined on: Oct 2, 2007 11:25:18 GMT -5
Posts: 42,548

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jul 1, 2012 13:56:15 GMT -5 via the ProBoards App

Post by bad guy™ on Jul 1, 2012 13:56:15 GMT -5

I essentially told you what I thought of this over PM when we were talking about future plans of that sort. This was very good, well written, but as I said, you did seem to go for broke to sh*t on Schneider, intentional or not. Like I told you, we get it, you beat him. Not even Schneider would blame you for taking a few shots at him like everyone does at the person they beat the week before...but this was a bit overly excessive. But you say that this is the mindset of Demon...so I have no right to say whether it was the right or wrong thing to do as this was your piece of creative writing. I'm just putting that out there man. Aside from that...this was very good. You've become one of my favorite writers here. Keep it up. Good stuff man. Haha.

1x WFWF Champion
3x WFWF International Champion
4x WFWF Tag Team Champion (Current)
1x WFWF Vanguard Champion (Current)
1x WFWF National Champion
2014 Scars and Stripes Battle Royal Winner
2014 WFWF Hall of Famer
2016 Feud of the Year
2016 Match of the Year

Raider
Superstar

" . . . "

Joined on: Jan 17, 2012 17:05:37 GMT -5
Posts: 884

Loaded RP: Tick, Tick, Tick. Jul 10, 2012 21:00:29 GMT -5

Post by Raider on Jul 10, 2012 21:00:29 GMT -5

Just got around to reading this. Great stuff, as always. My only critiques are that I would have liked to see a link with Emily and Trace at the end to tie up loose ends, because she started to feel distant to the main story, making me wonder why I am reading this section. I know you care more about writing for yourself and character progression than whether or not it ties in as we have seen in the past (that's not a knock, I do the same myself), but it was getting to the point where I was wondering why it was there. Well written, but the relation to Trace himself started to slip. Could have been fixed with her getting in and talking to Trace about her day or something, I don't know. Also, there was a little overkill with Schneider, but I'm not going to drag it out as you two have already gone over it. Congrats on the win and I look forward to what you put out for SOTF.

Last Edit: Jul 10, 2012 22:33:47 GMT -5 by Raider

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