Post by Deleted on Jan 17, 2015 9:19:21 GMT -5
London is done, The Clash is gone, and I left titleless. There's a certain feeling of loss without my titles. When in school there were always the days where you'd say to yourself, "Am I forgetting something?" and you'd check in your backpack and you'd have everything. This is happening 24 hours a day, every single day since they're gone. Only I can't just dig through my backpack and find them. They're around the waists of another team and no longer ours. The name of this show is somewhat fitting for this situation, Homecoming. The Homecoming was always a high school dance where you'd get dressed up and go out and eat with your date. Before our match I knew my date to the WFWF Homecoming, my WFWF Tag Team Championship. It's been by my side for what was closing in on a year. Now? Gone. Not out of thin air, which makes it sting even worse. Chase Landon was pinned by Zmey in the ring. In a word, I'm disappointed with that. Chase was distracted, there's no other way of putting it. I'm mad with Chase. I'm mad at his actions and thoughts in the tag team title match. This was our big moment. It was a chance to get our revenge and prove our title reign is on the road to being one for the ages. I'm sure his mind was racing about everything but the match. I told him I'd take care of the stupid rock and I did, but he still couldn't focus. I think about the police too and Chase's paranoia.
I walk into my room. In my dresser, the sock drawer of course, in my closet is a small box. It's about the size of a wallet and it holds Chase's rock. It's only been a few days since I even was given the rock, well somewhat forced to have it but I accepted it, by Chase. Everything I feel about what happened at The Clash, pain, anger, loss, is at least in part to this rock. This stupid thing that Chase in his muddled mind thinks is a police badge. I put it in this box in my dresser to forget about it. It's buried under pairs upon pairs of socks hopefully to never be seen again. After just a few days though, here I am. I'm digging through this drawer like a homeless man through a garbage can to find this box. I open it up and take the rock out flinging the box itself into back of my closet that's already filled with old memories. I take a peek in. There's some old awards it seems, I spot a frame and assume it's my diploma, there's a Sacramento State soccer jersey, movie props that I snuck off various sets. I close the door, no time to get sentimental about the past. I'd rather forget than slow down. My suitcase is still in the living room by the door, packed with my gear, ready to go for Homecoming. I drop the rock into the suitcase to take with me. This is now my motivation tool for Chase. If I can't forget about it then neither can he.
I will not place the entire blame on Chase. Instead, perhaps 80% of it will be on his shoulders. After all, it was I who tagged him into the match in the first place, that one was on me. He was the one that was pinned. He was the one that was distracted. I offered to take that rock from him if it meant he wouldn't be worried, but I could still see he was. At the start of the match I grabbed him by the hair and repeated one word to him, over and over and over. Focus. Focus. Focus. He still had trouble. Now I'm transferring the rock back to him in hopes it will spur him on and Dean and Demento. I know he hasn't forgotten about the rock, Maybe he thinks I have, maybe he thinks that I'll just keep it for him even though we lost. That's not the case. This is my experiment now. I accepted the rock at The Clash, and we lost. Let's see how Chase reacts with the pressure of the rock. Once he knows how unhappy I am in the loss, and I for one hope to see that this pressure will make Chase Landon a diamond.
Both of my opponents dealt with pressure too at The Clash. Pressure to continue bringing glory and honor and prestige to their Saviors of Salvation stable. One came close to bringing a piece of gold home to them, the other fought in a brutal deathmatch. Now they're eying up more gold. The gold that used to be mine. What I cherished so fondly. It seems to me there's a sense that I can't hang anymore. First I fail to win the WFWF World Championship, then I hit some other snares in singles matches, like against Josh Dean, and most recently I lose the WFWF World Tag Team Championships. There's no beating around the bush, no easy way to say it. Losing after hard fought match after hard fought match sucks. I'll be damned though if anyone is going to keep me down. Zmey can't. Samael can't. DMK can send whoever he wants at me, they can't. At Homecoming, it's my first step to going back to being the WFWF tag team champions. I feel that it's poetic that to get to Zmey and Samael once again and prove that I've still got championship material written all over, I need to get through a branch of the SOS.
I recall in the not so distant past an event called Grudge. I had the night off and I went out to the ring to describe my feelings after what you could state was easily one of the biggest nights of my life. Who came out and attacked? Zmey and Samael. That's where this began. Then, while I was getting treated for my wounds, who went out there later on in the show and got their hands on Zmey and Samael before I could? It was the SOS, Stone and Shannon to be exact. I felt jealous, I felt anger, then I felt hatred. I was jealous. They were the ones who got the opportunity to get their hands on those two before I was able to. This was my business first, it was between me and those three. I ignored it for the time being on the outside, but on the inside I assure you I was angry. I was angry that I was stepped right past. The tag team champion, his issues, his problems, what he was involved in, pushed to the side. Then I felt hatred. I felt hatred at their entitlement. They felt they could stick their nose anywhere at anytime because they were doing what they felt was right. Then I got a chance at The Takeover. I fought a SOS member. I fought Josh Dean. Then I lost. Then I fought Zmey and Samael. I lost. I had my turn, my opportunity to prove that I should have been the one who stopped Zmey and Samael dead in their tracks. Now this is my next chance. This is one I'd been waiting a long time for. It's going to prove to the SOS that I am the man who will be dethroning DMK's hand picked boys and they'll be returning back to me what I'll show everyone that I still deserve.
I sit down, and the door knocks. Figures, right as I'm going to stop thinking. I look through the peephole and to my surprise, it's Chase. A mixture of thoughts go through my head, do I want to open the door? Am I really in the mood to talk to him? What about the rock, should I give it back to him now? I decide against the rock, he'd just give it right back or keep it at my door. I don't want anything more to do with that stupid thing. It's staying in the suitcase till I get to the arena and maybe it'll give him a spark. It's at least somewhat of a plan. Maybe the fear of having the rock thrust upon him will give him a boost and make him a worthwhile partner. I make a mental note to bring a lock for my suitcase so he can't give it right back before opening the door.
"Chase, what do you want? I'm really not in the mood seeing as to what you did at The Clash."
He's seemingly in shock. He stands there without saying anything.
"Okay I'm giving you ten seconds. That's how much time you get to explain why you're hear. After that I'm closing the door and am not reopening it no matter how much you knock or ring the doorbell or whatever."
Nothing. I start counting.
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight."
I give hesitation just to give a bit of courtesy.
"Nine."
Still nothing. I wait then I sigh.
"Ten."
I slam the door shut on Chase.
I don't care if Chase had to travel over to come talk to me, he can't just waste my time, not after what happened at the PPV. He lost our titles. Part of that was my fault for trusting him so much, but isn't that what partners are supposed to do? I go to my kitchen now and pull out the vodka from the kitchen closet. I check the clock. Not even noon and Chase makes me need a drink, at my own house no less without him even stepping foot inside. I pour some in a glass with orange juice before settling into the living room recliner. Plenty of time to get mentally prepared. I'm going to be ready to take down Dave and Josh. Chase better be too.
Josh Dean is someone I've wanted to get my hands on for a while now. Since my loss to him I've been waiting for another opportunity. Another chance to get my hands on the false prophets of the WFWF. They claim to be the saviors of the WFWF. Joined together to denounce evils in the WFWF, and apparently they've taken an eye to the tag titles. This would be twice now that the Saviors have gone in front of me in a situation where I want something. The first time was revenge. The second time was for titles. Ironically, this match involves revenge too. Revenge on Dean. I honestly don't care about you Josh, I don't care about your mission, your personal life, your dreams, your past matches, your past success, nothing. What I care about is that at the Homecoming you are making a big mistake. Going after something you feel like you have a shot at. To be fair, you're a very good talent. To say Josh isn't is a discredit to not just Josh, but to me as well. Now to say you're saviors but in the same breath say you want to get a title match before we've gotten our fair shot and regaining them back. I'd call that being hypocritical, and that's being kind. Homecoming is personal for me against you Josh. This is a chance to prove that though you're good, I'm better. I can drag a tag partner through Josh and another capable athlete and you'll still fall first because I'm going to prove something. To Josh. To Dave. To everyone else that thinks you'll be the ones who get to dethrone the current champions. You won't be the ones stopping Zmey and Samael, I will.
Dave Demento is the other half of the team who I'll be tasked with stopping. First time meetings are always the most interesting. You can scout a wrestler for as long as you want. You could watch every single one of his or her matches but you never know what to expect until you're in the ring with them. When their back's up against the wall, how do they react? There's a morbid curiosity and I'm ready to find out just how well Dave will react. Dave must be in shock too since he, like myself and Chase, lost his title over across the pond. He'll come out thinking he has something to prove also. He's gonna come out fists blazing and attempt to knock me and Chase into next week. I'll take it, and then I'll dish it right back in a more calculated fashion. The difference between us two, and myself and Chase for that matter, is that I am going to be able to control my emotions. I know I'll be able to control Chase after I learned my lesson. The question is, will Dave be able to? Just one little thing could send him over the edge. I could slap him, or call him Lila's boy toy, or bring up the fact he doesn't have his title anymore. When I say that, then poof, like magic all rationality disappears from Dave and he'll become consumed with rage. I might not even need to provoke it, for all I know he already could be just dying to hurt someone and I'm his supposed first target now. I'll take a beating if it means I become one step closer to holding those tag titles once again.
It's the next day. Match day. Landon walks by me as I'm just walking in.
"Why didn't you let me talk?"
"I did. I gave you plenty of time."
"No you didn't, you slammed the door in my face."
"Chase I gave you till ten, and then some."
"No, if you're mad just say so. You didn't have to slam the door on me here, even if you weren't ready for the match tonight."
"Tonight? I literally just got here."
He says nothing. I pause. Does Chase really not know what's happening anymore? I ask him.
"I'm talking about when you came over to my house. Don't you remember that?"
"When did that happen?"
"Yesterday, in the morning. Chase, there's so much proof, do you honestly have no memories to remind yourself of this?"
Chase almost looks hurt, like a third grader getting scolded by the teacher.
"No, because it never happened."
"Look, let me get ready. We'll talk later."
Chase walks away looking a mixture of annoyed and dejected. Now I'm dealing with Chase like this once again. I don't care if I have to carry this match and babysit Chase through this, I'm determined to walk out a winner.
In order to climb back to the top you have to make it past those that passed you after your fall. This is the first step. This is more than just beating Dean and Dave. This is proving to them, to the current champs, and to anyone else that debates it that we are still worthy of being called the best team here. Dean and Dave both have great singles accolades. Dave has won the International Championship twice, Josh has also won the International Championship and been involved in several huge matches. None of their accolades or previous matches matter to me. At Homecoming it's just a tale of two teams. One team, never having held tag gold, hungry for their first shot, is going to get sent to the back of the line by the second team, the team that wants the gold back around their waists more than anything in the world. It's going to be a challenge, it's not going to be an easy fight, but I never expect any fight will be. I'm just going to have to prove that I want it more. The second time becoming the champions is always harder than the first. Now everyone knows that you were the former champ. If they beat you, that moves them straight up the ladder. However, if I lose, that knocks me right back down. Dean and Dave are looking to go past myself and Chase in contention. Past the former champions. I am determined to make sure that doesn't happen and I will put them in their place. It's time to prove that we still belong as number one contenders. Josh Dean and Dave Demento, prepare for hell.
I walk into my room. In my dresser, the sock drawer of course, in my closet is a small box. It's about the size of a wallet and it holds Chase's rock. It's only been a few days since I even was given the rock, well somewhat forced to have it but I accepted it, by Chase. Everything I feel about what happened at The Clash, pain, anger, loss, is at least in part to this rock. This stupid thing that Chase in his muddled mind thinks is a police badge. I put it in this box in my dresser to forget about it. It's buried under pairs upon pairs of socks hopefully to never be seen again. After just a few days though, here I am. I'm digging through this drawer like a homeless man through a garbage can to find this box. I open it up and take the rock out flinging the box itself into back of my closet that's already filled with old memories. I take a peek in. There's some old awards it seems, I spot a frame and assume it's my diploma, there's a Sacramento State soccer jersey, movie props that I snuck off various sets. I close the door, no time to get sentimental about the past. I'd rather forget than slow down. My suitcase is still in the living room by the door, packed with my gear, ready to go for Homecoming. I drop the rock into the suitcase to take with me. This is now my motivation tool for Chase. If I can't forget about it then neither can he.
I will not place the entire blame on Chase. Instead, perhaps 80% of it will be on his shoulders. After all, it was I who tagged him into the match in the first place, that one was on me. He was the one that was pinned. He was the one that was distracted. I offered to take that rock from him if it meant he wouldn't be worried, but I could still see he was. At the start of the match I grabbed him by the hair and repeated one word to him, over and over and over. Focus. Focus. Focus. He still had trouble. Now I'm transferring the rock back to him in hopes it will spur him on and Dean and Demento. I know he hasn't forgotten about the rock, Maybe he thinks I have, maybe he thinks that I'll just keep it for him even though we lost. That's not the case. This is my experiment now. I accepted the rock at The Clash, and we lost. Let's see how Chase reacts with the pressure of the rock. Once he knows how unhappy I am in the loss, and I for one hope to see that this pressure will make Chase Landon a diamond.
Both of my opponents dealt with pressure too at The Clash. Pressure to continue bringing glory and honor and prestige to their Saviors of Salvation stable. One came close to bringing a piece of gold home to them, the other fought in a brutal deathmatch. Now they're eying up more gold. The gold that used to be mine. What I cherished so fondly. It seems to me there's a sense that I can't hang anymore. First I fail to win the WFWF World Championship, then I hit some other snares in singles matches, like against Josh Dean, and most recently I lose the WFWF World Tag Team Championships. There's no beating around the bush, no easy way to say it. Losing after hard fought match after hard fought match sucks. I'll be damned though if anyone is going to keep me down. Zmey can't. Samael can't. DMK can send whoever he wants at me, they can't. At Homecoming, it's my first step to going back to being the WFWF tag team champions. I feel that it's poetic that to get to Zmey and Samael once again and prove that I've still got championship material written all over, I need to get through a branch of the SOS.
I recall in the not so distant past an event called Grudge. I had the night off and I went out to the ring to describe my feelings after what you could state was easily one of the biggest nights of my life. Who came out and attacked? Zmey and Samael. That's where this began. Then, while I was getting treated for my wounds, who went out there later on in the show and got their hands on Zmey and Samael before I could? It was the SOS, Stone and Shannon to be exact. I felt jealous, I felt anger, then I felt hatred. I was jealous. They were the ones who got the opportunity to get their hands on those two before I was able to. This was my business first, it was between me and those three. I ignored it for the time being on the outside, but on the inside I assure you I was angry. I was angry that I was stepped right past. The tag team champion, his issues, his problems, what he was involved in, pushed to the side. Then I felt hatred. I felt hatred at their entitlement. They felt they could stick their nose anywhere at anytime because they were doing what they felt was right. Then I got a chance at The Takeover. I fought a SOS member. I fought Josh Dean. Then I lost. Then I fought Zmey and Samael. I lost. I had my turn, my opportunity to prove that I should have been the one who stopped Zmey and Samael dead in their tracks. Now this is my next chance. This is one I'd been waiting a long time for. It's going to prove to the SOS that I am the man who will be dethroning DMK's hand picked boys and they'll be returning back to me what I'll show everyone that I still deserve.
I sit down, and the door knocks. Figures, right as I'm going to stop thinking. I look through the peephole and to my surprise, it's Chase. A mixture of thoughts go through my head, do I want to open the door? Am I really in the mood to talk to him? What about the rock, should I give it back to him now? I decide against the rock, he'd just give it right back or keep it at my door. I don't want anything more to do with that stupid thing. It's staying in the suitcase till I get to the arena and maybe it'll give him a spark. It's at least somewhat of a plan. Maybe the fear of having the rock thrust upon him will give him a boost and make him a worthwhile partner. I make a mental note to bring a lock for my suitcase so he can't give it right back before opening the door.
"Chase, what do you want? I'm really not in the mood seeing as to what you did at The Clash."
He's seemingly in shock. He stands there without saying anything.
"Okay I'm giving you ten seconds. That's how much time you get to explain why you're hear. After that I'm closing the door and am not reopening it no matter how much you knock or ring the doorbell or whatever."
Nothing. I start counting.
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight."
I give hesitation just to give a bit of courtesy.
"Nine."
Still nothing. I wait then I sigh.
"Ten."
I slam the door shut on Chase.
I don't care if Chase had to travel over to come talk to me, he can't just waste my time, not after what happened at the PPV. He lost our titles. Part of that was my fault for trusting him so much, but isn't that what partners are supposed to do? I go to my kitchen now and pull out the vodka from the kitchen closet. I check the clock. Not even noon and Chase makes me need a drink, at my own house no less without him even stepping foot inside. I pour some in a glass with orange juice before settling into the living room recliner. Plenty of time to get mentally prepared. I'm going to be ready to take down Dave and Josh. Chase better be too.
Josh Dean is someone I've wanted to get my hands on for a while now. Since my loss to him I've been waiting for another opportunity. Another chance to get my hands on the false prophets of the WFWF. They claim to be the saviors of the WFWF. Joined together to denounce evils in the WFWF, and apparently they've taken an eye to the tag titles. This would be twice now that the Saviors have gone in front of me in a situation where I want something. The first time was revenge. The second time was for titles. Ironically, this match involves revenge too. Revenge on Dean. I honestly don't care about you Josh, I don't care about your mission, your personal life, your dreams, your past matches, your past success, nothing. What I care about is that at the Homecoming you are making a big mistake. Going after something you feel like you have a shot at. To be fair, you're a very good talent. To say Josh isn't is a discredit to not just Josh, but to me as well. Now to say you're saviors but in the same breath say you want to get a title match before we've gotten our fair shot and regaining them back. I'd call that being hypocritical, and that's being kind. Homecoming is personal for me against you Josh. This is a chance to prove that though you're good, I'm better. I can drag a tag partner through Josh and another capable athlete and you'll still fall first because I'm going to prove something. To Josh. To Dave. To everyone else that thinks you'll be the ones who get to dethrone the current champions. You won't be the ones stopping Zmey and Samael, I will.
Dave Demento is the other half of the team who I'll be tasked with stopping. First time meetings are always the most interesting. You can scout a wrestler for as long as you want. You could watch every single one of his or her matches but you never know what to expect until you're in the ring with them. When their back's up against the wall, how do they react? There's a morbid curiosity and I'm ready to find out just how well Dave will react. Dave must be in shock too since he, like myself and Chase, lost his title over across the pond. He'll come out thinking he has something to prove also. He's gonna come out fists blazing and attempt to knock me and Chase into next week. I'll take it, and then I'll dish it right back in a more calculated fashion. The difference between us two, and myself and Chase for that matter, is that I am going to be able to control my emotions. I know I'll be able to control Chase after I learned my lesson. The question is, will Dave be able to? Just one little thing could send him over the edge. I could slap him, or call him Lila's boy toy, or bring up the fact he doesn't have his title anymore. When I say that, then poof, like magic all rationality disappears from Dave and he'll become consumed with rage. I might not even need to provoke it, for all I know he already could be just dying to hurt someone and I'm his supposed first target now. I'll take a beating if it means I become one step closer to holding those tag titles once again.
It's the next day. Match day. Landon walks by me as I'm just walking in.
"Why didn't you let me talk?"
"I did. I gave you plenty of time."
"No you didn't, you slammed the door in my face."
"Chase I gave you till ten, and then some."
"No, if you're mad just say so. You didn't have to slam the door on me here, even if you weren't ready for the match tonight."
"Tonight? I literally just got here."
He says nothing. I pause. Does Chase really not know what's happening anymore? I ask him.
"I'm talking about when you came over to my house. Don't you remember that?"
"When did that happen?"
"Yesterday, in the morning. Chase, there's so much proof, do you honestly have no memories to remind yourself of this?"
Chase almost looks hurt, like a third grader getting scolded by the teacher.
"No, because it never happened."
"Look, let me get ready. We'll talk later."
Chase walks away looking a mixture of annoyed and dejected. Now I'm dealing with Chase like this once again. I don't care if I have to carry this match and babysit Chase through this, I'm determined to walk out a winner.
In order to climb back to the top you have to make it past those that passed you after your fall. This is the first step. This is more than just beating Dean and Dave. This is proving to them, to the current champs, and to anyone else that debates it that we are still worthy of being called the best team here. Dean and Dave both have great singles accolades. Dave has won the International Championship twice, Josh has also won the International Championship and been involved in several huge matches. None of their accolades or previous matches matter to me. At Homecoming it's just a tale of two teams. One team, never having held tag gold, hungry for their first shot, is going to get sent to the back of the line by the second team, the team that wants the gold back around their waists more than anything in the world. It's going to be a challenge, it's not going to be an easy fight, but I never expect any fight will be. I'm just going to have to prove that I want it more. The second time becoming the champions is always harder than the first. Now everyone knows that you were the former champ. If they beat you, that moves them straight up the ladder. However, if I lose, that knocks me right back down. Dean and Dave are looking to go past myself and Chase in contention. Past the former champions. I am determined to make sure that doesn't happen and I will put them in their place. It's time to prove that we still belong as number one contenders. Josh Dean and Dave Demento, prepare for hell.
I dont know good luck 
