Cheeky
Apr 10, 2012 17:16:47 GMT -5
Post by The Rogue on Apr 10, 2012 17:16:47 GMT -5
You’ll never see me fall from Grace
My ribs were plaguing me as I finished off my set, though I hid it as best as I could. Tim was being extra vigilant so I couldn’t let him down in that respect. He knew of my condition and had eased up in our training. But we couldn’t neglect it all together. One way or another, I would have to win my match against Johnny Brave. It was a necessity. And if it is obvious in the ring on Wednesday, Jess would never let me hear the end of it. I sat up slowly, grabbing my towel from the side and using it to wipe the excess sweat off of my face and shoulders. Tim looked at me with a penetrating expression. I brushed this off, and stood; once again, slowly. In the shower, thoughts of the last month challenged my confidence. Had I really lost it? Was I riding on fluke and momentum, only to be exposed for what I really was? But how could that happen seven times in a row? When I thought of all the great names that I had defeated, I could not ignore the fact that I was good. Tim had made me good. His training and all of his tactical awareness had gotten me to the point where I could beat anyone. So what had happened? Blaine Harrison had ended my streak and taken my Title. And then Micky O’Reilly absolutely destroyed me in a street fight.
The air was cool when I had finished washing. I hurriedly dried and put my clothes on, though I could only move so fast without putting any strain on my ribs. I had seen Johnny Braves words about me. Some how he had found out that I had a specific target on me that he could exploit which meant things would be harder than I had originally thought. Time had been flying past since I was released from hospital. Wednesday would be here before I knew it and then I would be faced with the prospect that I could be defeated for a third time in a row. Tim was waiting for me in his car, ready to take me back home. I tried to force a smile as I sat down in the passenger side of his new Dodge Charger. He didn’t look at me. Simply switched the ignition and buckled his seat belt.
Tim: You are ready for Wednesday?
The car is put into gear and we pull out of the car lot.
Mike: As ready as I will ever be.
Tim: Good. Now, I want to tell you to steer clear of O’Reilly. That business is over. You had your revenge and now Wednesday is about getting back on track.
Mike: Forget? This all happened because of him. Now the rabid dog is caged, you want me to just put him out of mind?
Tim: He was following orders. That’s over now too. He’s still on my payroll, so we have to think of him as a prospect.
Mike: Don’t sponsor him anymore, then. Send him home.
Tim: That wouldn’t be a good idea. Plus he has gotten the FGA some ratings. He’s unpredictable and therefore good to watch. They would find a way to keep him here. If I carry on treating him well, soon enough he will be an ally.
Mike: Great. I look forward to that.
Tim: Just drop it for now. Concentrate on your match.
Mike: I am. Johnny Brave is the main issue at hand and so I will give him all of my attention.
Tim: Forget about Blaine then.
Mike: What?
Tim: You heard me. Blaine comes after. Don’t talk to him. Don’t call him out. Don’t challenge him. You are hurting so just think about your match. That’s all you can do.
Mike: Yeah, but jus…
Tim: Mike. Brave. Just focus.
Mike: Alright. I will focus.
Tim: You have to go through him to get to where you want to go.
Mike: Then I will go through him.
Tim: The last two fights, we’ll put down to me. You are good. Don’t doubt that. I wouldn’t train you and help you if you were a waste of space. You’re still the first ever Champion. No one can take that fact away from you.
Mike: I know. And come Wednesday, Johnny Brave is going to find it out too.
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The scene opens to Michael Tomkins, standing in a pair of torn off jeans and black boots, with his strapped up bare chest on show. He looks confident. Bouncing off of either foot, he can already feel the adrenaline of the situation. He smiles widely, arrogance still shining through, before he stops bouncing, staring into the camera, hard.
Mike: You speak to me about respect? Are you for real? What have you done in the FGA that warrants my respect? There are many guys on the roster that I do respect. I have named them. I have said why. It’s not hard to figure out why I would respect them. But you. What makes you think I should show you any form of respect? I have thought this over, and have come up with a happy medium. I will respect you enough to try. On Wednesday night I will meet you in the ring and I will throw everything I have at you. Then, when I have beaten you, you will have known that I put effort into the match. You were beaten by the best on his best day. How’s that for respect? Johnny Brave, I at least respect you enough to pronounce your name correctly. So are you ignorant or just plain stupid? There is no P in my name. Unless you have a severe speech impediment, you have absolutely no excuse for mispronouncing my name. Tomkins. It’s written everywhere and said everywhere in the FGA. Championship history. Top of the power rankings. Main evented shows. It’s even on our match card. So before you come up against the best wrestler in the company, demanding respect for absolutely nothing, try not to make yourself look like a complete Fraggle. And if you never watched Fraggle Rock as a kid, let me explain what a Fraggle is. It’s a stupid cheap rip off of a Muppet. If you can’t talk properly, assume you’re going to win, spout all this total bollocks about me not respecting you, and then try and make me look the fool, it sort of back fires on you. I say I am the best. Why? Maybe because I have been at the top of every Power Ranking list since I started? Possibly you would have seen that no one else won seven matches in a row? Or being the first ever FGA Heavyweight Champion, defeating three solid opponents in one night. Indy legend Scott Reave bailed after I owned him in under five minutes in the first match of the tournament. Chandler Scott got annoyed about Timmy Brown’s interruption, however last time we faced I proved that I would have won regardless. And then Jared James. The tournament favorite who vowed that he was going to wear the Title first. When you have defeated three respectable men in one night. When you have strung up an impressive list of accomplishments. When you have topped the power rankings even once. Maybe then I might show a bit of respect. If you can hang with the bigger dogs, you’ll earn everyone’s respect. But earn it. Until you do I will talk down to you. I have every right to do so, you arrogant piece of shit.
He pauses for a moment, his focused expression seeming to lighten up a fraction.
Mike: You claim to be a rottweiler hungry for some steak. That’s an interesting analogy. A big statement for a rookie too. I’d say you’re setting yourself out to fall. All these big bold statements as an unproven rookie. It’s quite comical though. I mean, saying you’re a big dog when you appear to be more of a Chihuahua. But I can explain everything I have said and I can damn well back it up. I have made a living and a reputation for backing up what I say. And before the 2012: A New Odyssey tournament, I told everyone I was good and capable and I said that I could beat them on my day. I was capable. I never flat out and said I would. I said it would take a lot to beat me. I said I don’t quit. I am hard to put down. I can take a lot of punishment. No where did I say I was the best wrestler or the man that would win. The point of being the underdog is no one expects you to win. I had the element of surprise and I didn’t over hype myself to lose it. Unfortunately, you have. You talk a big enough game for me to take you seriously. And when Michael Tomkins comes out with all guns firing, it’s not a fun place to be, when you are standing opposite him in the ring. You have lost before, but you have never lost big. Think of that failure and then multiply it. Any punishment you have endured in a wrestling ring is magnified when you face The-Raise-The-Bar-Superstar. I can go all night, Brave. I have endurance. I can take pain. So come Wednesday we’ll see just how much you can handle. And we’ll see the real Lights Out when you get a warm introduction to my left boot. It’s a pleasant feeling. You’ll be smiling for weeks… albeit because your jaw may be wired shut. You’ve pissed me off, kid. When I kick you. It’s coming hard. And you may feel that knowing about my ribs gives you an advantage, and you may work them over during the fifteen minute time limit…. But all I need is three seconds.
He cracks another arrogant side smile, his left lip curing up, as the screen fades to nothing…