A Christmas Beating Was Soon To Come...
Dec 26, 2015 11:54:12 GMT -5
Post by Bondo on Dec 26, 2015 11:54:12 GMT -5
OFF-CAMERA:
"Christmas Morning with the Boy"
The door slowly creaked open, and I could faintly hear the scamper of tiny feet against the hardwood floor. I felt the side of my bed give in to the weight of a tiny little four year old. And then I felt him tug on my face before…
“DADDY! WAKE UP! IT’S CHRISTMAS!” he shouted.
My eyes shot open as my son continued to pull on my face. A small smile formed across my face.
“Rhys… Merry Christmas little buddy.” I said softly, reaching out and grabbing his chubby little face. I pulled him in for a huge hug and gave him a soft little kiss on his forehead. He giggled quietly before I sat up and the blankets fell across my lap. I looked around at the emptiness, the loneliness. I quickly stop that thinking before I look back at Rhys. The little guy has had a rough little childhood.
“Okay, why don’t you run downstairs and I’ll be right there… Daddy’s gotta potty.” I said to him as I threw off the remainder of the blankets and placed my feet upon the floor. His face lit up and he quickly scooted off the bed and ran from my bedroom and down into the living room. I slowly walked into the bathroom and did my business, washing my hands and shutting off the light as I grabbed my shirt from the floor and heading downstairs.
I saw him sitting in front of our tree, staring at the presents. The little man had some serious will power as he sat and stared at all of his presents. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup from the little tree that held four coffee cups and sat it on the Keurig. I pushed a little k-cup into the holder and pushed the lid down and stood there, listening to the sound of my coffee brewing and my son “Ooh’ing” and “Ah’ing” as he looked over his presents with anticipation. I couldn’t help but think how less than two years ago this would have been his mother’s experience. She would be the one getting to feel his little hands pull across her face, the joy he had spread, and the overall wonderment that every little kid has.
As I grabbed my cup I walked into the living room and placed it onto the coffee table and sat down next to him. My knee had been acting up the last couple of weeks, it was sore as hell and swollen to about twice its normal size. So I left it extended and crossed the other leg as I reached for one of the many wrapped gifts under and next to the tree. I handed it to him and sat there, sipping at my coffee as he unwrapped his first present.
His eyes were huge as he saw the tiny little Batman figure emerge from the multicolored Christmas paper. He screeched like a Pterodactyl on the hunt and showed it to me.
“Look Daddy! It’s Batman!” His face was lit with happiness.
And it was the same experience for every present that he opened. He ripped off bows and tore through paper, finding out what was beneath all of those presents. A nerf basketball, more little superhero figures, and a couple of puzzles… he was able to experience the full Christmas she-bang from Santa and Daddy, and there was even a little stuffed teddy bear from Katie, which wore a mini-Crimson Baroness t-shirt. I couldn’t help but crack a smile.
I watched as he handed me a couple of presents too. He sat there patiently waiting as I slowly unwrapped the gifts. I got a new pair of slippers that he couldn’t help but explain that were green on the inside, his favorite color, and how much he insisted I had some to match is Mystery Machine ones. He explained each gift, too. How the multi-pack of football themed hot sauces were there because he knew how much I loved football and they were in helmet-shaped package. I couldn’t help but smile at that one. By now, Rhys had outgrown the excitement of me unwrapping my presents and began to play with his new toys. And so I reached down and opened up a slightly small little box. It was wrapped in red-dots and had a large red bow on top. The name tag simply read “Chris” and was signed with a heart. Katie, she was the culprit.
I ripped through the paper and opened up the box. I pulled out a cellophane wrapped coffee mug. On the outside it read “World’s Best Teacher” and inside it was filled with little chocolate kisses… and condoms. I laughed to myself as I sat the package back in the box and just stared at my son playing with all of his presents. Katie had helped pull me out of a funk. It wasn’t even this time two years ago where I was the bum dad who had sent a small gift for my toddler to open. I couldn’t be man enough to sit there and give it to him. I had my childish reasons to fight with his mom. And now, she was gone… and I was the one playing house with the little squirt. I had a sip of coffee in her memory, as I looked to the ornament of her holding Rhys at the hospital, the morning after he was born. I raised my cup towards the Heavens above and took another sip.
________________________________________
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The Shoot
“A Christmas Beating Was Soon To Come”
“Our meeting is drawing near, Mr. Cannon.” I start off. My eyes are emotionless as I stare into the camera.
“A re-match, an opportunity for me to avenge the loss that I suffered weeks ago. An opportunity for me to avenge a year of losses, a chance to come back from a-not-so banner year. You too find yourself in a situation where you are coming off a very tough loss. You had one hell of a match against Tony Carmine and you were narrowly defeated, but you come into our content avenging a loss nonetheless.” I say, implying that he was now on a level closer to me.
“The last time we met, you beat me. You kicked me so hard you left me seeing shadow kicks for a week. But this time, this time it is going to be different. My respect for you has not changed, my impression of your skills and your talent, it too remains the same. The only difference is that this time, this time I want this victory more than you do. I understand you wanting to remove the taste of defeat from your tongue. It’s bitterness never quite grows on you… but I need to regain some kind of resemblance of a career. This year has been one of the most difficult to date. A string of tough losses does not make a failure. But I need to show that I still have what it takes. Going toe-to-toe with you, surviving the contest, having my hand raised in victory, that will show everyone… and myself… that I’m still here doing what I know in my heart is my fucking passion. You have no way of realizing how much I need this win…” I trail off, my eyes glistening as I purse my lips, I quickly drag my tongue over my bottom lip.
“Your words are going to sting, your fists are going to fly. I know you’re going to come headfirst into our battle ready and willing to redeem your loss to Carmine. I’m ready for it. I just hope that you understand this won’t be some cakewalk. I’m not going to just roll over and die and let you manhandle me. You should remember from last time that any belief that it was going to be a squash will quickly fade from your mind. You’re just as hungry for success and glory as I am. I’ve been there before, I’ve held the belt you’ve been chasing for months. It’s a wonderful feeling to be PRIDE Champion. A belt with as much prestige as the World Title.” A soft smirk forms at the corner of my mouth as I remember winning that belt twice.
“Johnny Cannon, our paths are going to cross, and I’m sure a Christmas beating is at hand. But I want you to know, that no matter the outcome, win or lose, I will gladly take the satisfaction of this match an instant-classic, because no matter the day, the show before or the show after, you sir are always ready to put on a clinic.” I’ve always been impressed with his ability and his awesome showmanship. Johnny Cannon may be one of the biggest pricks on the planet, and his kicks are stiff and brutal, but he was one hell of a wrestler.
“On Saturday, at Vertigo, we meet again. I know you’re going to becoming in heavy and hard, angry from your loss to Carmine. I know I’m going to be coming in, head high coming off my victory over the Kid… but just know, I realize how difficult this is going to be. Johnny Cannon isn’t a name to be taken lightly. You’re one of the toughest, most ruthless and brutal competitors I’ve ever stepped in the ring with. Your hunger is fierce and your fists and kick are as solid and hard-hitting as anyone else. But I need you to understand that my hunger, my heart, my spirit is just as fierce and unquenchable as yours. You may be the British Mamba, a moniker after a lethal predator, but know that my blood flows with a pride and devotion to this business as deep as the ocean. I may not be able to kick you so hard you see phantom kicks for a week, but know that I will take you to your limit, Johnny Cannon. No amount of sell-up from your loud mouthed friend will change that. I will take you to your limit… and this time, no kick, no punch, no insult hurled my way will change the fact that I am leaving Vertigo with the victory banner draped across my shoulders. A guarantee that you can take to the bank.” I reply coldly, and matter-of-factly.
“This year hasn’t been the best for me… so it’s only fitting that I go out with a bang. It’s time to jumpstart my career, and who knows, maybe this victory over you Johnny, it’s just enough momentum to put me back in the running for a shot at the PRIDE Title. Twenty-Sixteen is going be my year… a year that I reclaim the footing lost to my shortcomings this year. You and me have a date with destiny, Johnny Cannon. And my shot at redemption begins on Vertigo. My name is Chris Bond… and you can bet your ass that this is STILL… MY FRONTIER.” I shoot out with a snarl. I make sure to show how serious I am as I stare into the camera. Johnny Cannon may be the biggest obstacle in my way, but like I said, it could be my golden ticket… my opportunity at another shot at the PRIDE Title.
"Christmas Morning with the Boy"
The door slowly creaked open, and I could faintly hear the scamper of tiny feet against the hardwood floor. I felt the side of my bed give in to the weight of a tiny little four year old. And then I felt him tug on my face before…
“DADDY! WAKE UP! IT’S CHRISTMAS!” he shouted.
My eyes shot open as my son continued to pull on my face. A small smile formed across my face.
“Rhys… Merry Christmas little buddy.” I said softly, reaching out and grabbing his chubby little face. I pulled him in for a huge hug and gave him a soft little kiss on his forehead. He giggled quietly before I sat up and the blankets fell across my lap. I looked around at the emptiness, the loneliness. I quickly stop that thinking before I look back at Rhys. The little guy has had a rough little childhood.
“Okay, why don’t you run downstairs and I’ll be right there… Daddy’s gotta potty.” I said to him as I threw off the remainder of the blankets and placed my feet upon the floor. His face lit up and he quickly scooted off the bed and ran from my bedroom and down into the living room. I slowly walked into the bathroom and did my business, washing my hands and shutting off the light as I grabbed my shirt from the floor and heading downstairs.
I saw him sitting in front of our tree, staring at the presents. The little man had some serious will power as he sat and stared at all of his presents. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup from the little tree that held four coffee cups and sat it on the Keurig. I pushed a little k-cup into the holder and pushed the lid down and stood there, listening to the sound of my coffee brewing and my son “Ooh’ing” and “Ah’ing” as he looked over his presents with anticipation. I couldn’t help but think how less than two years ago this would have been his mother’s experience. She would be the one getting to feel his little hands pull across her face, the joy he had spread, and the overall wonderment that every little kid has.
As I grabbed my cup I walked into the living room and placed it onto the coffee table and sat down next to him. My knee had been acting up the last couple of weeks, it was sore as hell and swollen to about twice its normal size. So I left it extended and crossed the other leg as I reached for one of the many wrapped gifts under and next to the tree. I handed it to him and sat there, sipping at my coffee as he unwrapped his first present.
His eyes were huge as he saw the tiny little Batman figure emerge from the multicolored Christmas paper. He screeched like a Pterodactyl on the hunt and showed it to me.
“Look Daddy! It’s Batman!” His face was lit with happiness.
And it was the same experience for every present that he opened. He ripped off bows and tore through paper, finding out what was beneath all of those presents. A nerf basketball, more little superhero figures, and a couple of puzzles… he was able to experience the full Christmas she-bang from Santa and Daddy, and there was even a little stuffed teddy bear from Katie, which wore a mini-Crimson Baroness t-shirt. I couldn’t help but crack a smile.
I watched as he handed me a couple of presents too. He sat there patiently waiting as I slowly unwrapped the gifts. I got a new pair of slippers that he couldn’t help but explain that were green on the inside, his favorite color, and how much he insisted I had some to match is Mystery Machine ones. He explained each gift, too. How the multi-pack of football themed hot sauces were there because he knew how much I loved football and they were in helmet-shaped package. I couldn’t help but smile at that one. By now, Rhys had outgrown the excitement of me unwrapping my presents and began to play with his new toys. And so I reached down and opened up a slightly small little box. It was wrapped in red-dots and had a large red bow on top. The name tag simply read “Chris” and was signed with a heart. Katie, she was the culprit.
I ripped through the paper and opened up the box. I pulled out a cellophane wrapped coffee mug. On the outside it read “World’s Best Teacher” and inside it was filled with little chocolate kisses… and condoms. I laughed to myself as I sat the package back in the box and just stared at my son playing with all of his presents. Katie had helped pull me out of a funk. It wasn’t even this time two years ago where I was the bum dad who had sent a small gift for my toddler to open. I couldn’t be man enough to sit there and give it to him. I had my childish reasons to fight with his mom. And now, she was gone… and I was the one playing house with the little squirt. I had a sip of coffee in her memory, as I looked to the ornament of her holding Rhys at the hospital, the morning after he was born. I raised my cup towards the Heavens above and took another sip.
________________________________________
___________________________________________________
___________________________
The Shoot
“A Christmas Beating Was Soon To Come”
“Our meeting is drawing near, Mr. Cannon.” I start off. My eyes are emotionless as I stare into the camera.
“A re-match, an opportunity for me to avenge the loss that I suffered weeks ago. An opportunity for me to avenge a year of losses, a chance to come back from a-not-so banner year. You too find yourself in a situation where you are coming off a very tough loss. You had one hell of a match against Tony Carmine and you were narrowly defeated, but you come into our content avenging a loss nonetheless.” I say, implying that he was now on a level closer to me.
“The last time we met, you beat me. You kicked me so hard you left me seeing shadow kicks for a week. But this time, this time it is going to be different. My respect for you has not changed, my impression of your skills and your talent, it too remains the same. The only difference is that this time, this time I want this victory more than you do. I understand you wanting to remove the taste of defeat from your tongue. It’s bitterness never quite grows on you… but I need to regain some kind of resemblance of a career. This year has been one of the most difficult to date. A string of tough losses does not make a failure. But I need to show that I still have what it takes. Going toe-to-toe with you, surviving the contest, having my hand raised in victory, that will show everyone… and myself… that I’m still here doing what I know in my heart is my fucking passion. You have no way of realizing how much I need this win…” I trail off, my eyes glistening as I purse my lips, I quickly drag my tongue over my bottom lip.
“Your words are going to sting, your fists are going to fly. I know you’re going to come headfirst into our battle ready and willing to redeem your loss to Carmine. I’m ready for it. I just hope that you understand this won’t be some cakewalk. I’m not going to just roll over and die and let you manhandle me. You should remember from last time that any belief that it was going to be a squash will quickly fade from your mind. You’re just as hungry for success and glory as I am. I’ve been there before, I’ve held the belt you’ve been chasing for months. It’s a wonderful feeling to be PRIDE Champion. A belt with as much prestige as the World Title.” A soft smirk forms at the corner of my mouth as I remember winning that belt twice.
“Johnny Cannon, our paths are going to cross, and I’m sure a Christmas beating is at hand. But I want you to know, that no matter the outcome, win or lose, I will gladly take the satisfaction of this match an instant-classic, because no matter the day, the show before or the show after, you sir are always ready to put on a clinic.” I’ve always been impressed with his ability and his awesome showmanship. Johnny Cannon may be one of the biggest pricks on the planet, and his kicks are stiff and brutal, but he was one hell of a wrestler.
“On Saturday, at Vertigo, we meet again. I know you’re going to becoming in heavy and hard, angry from your loss to Carmine. I know I’m going to be coming in, head high coming off my victory over the Kid… but just know, I realize how difficult this is going to be. Johnny Cannon isn’t a name to be taken lightly. You’re one of the toughest, most ruthless and brutal competitors I’ve ever stepped in the ring with. Your hunger is fierce and your fists and kick are as solid and hard-hitting as anyone else. But I need you to understand that my hunger, my heart, my spirit is just as fierce and unquenchable as yours. You may be the British Mamba, a moniker after a lethal predator, but know that my blood flows with a pride and devotion to this business as deep as the ocean. I may not be able to kick you so hard you see phantom kicks for a week, but know that I will take you to your limit, Johnny Cannon. No amount of sell-up from your loud mouthed friend will change that. I will take you to your limit… and this time, no kick, no punch, no insult hurled my way will change the fact that I am leaving Vertigo with the victory banner draped across my shoulders. A guarantee that you can take to the bank.” I reply coldly, and matter-of-factly.
“This year hasn’t been the best for me… so it’s only fitting that I go out with a bang. It’s time to jumpstart my career, and who knows, maybe this victory over you Johnny, it’s just enough momentum to put me back in the running for a shot at the PRIDE Title. Twenty-Sixteen is going be my year… a year that I reclaim the footing lost to my shortcomings this year. You and me have a date with destiny, Johnny Cannon. And my shot at redemption begins on Vertigo. My name is Chris Bond… and you can bet your ass that this is STILL… MY FRONTIER.” I shoot out with a snarl. I make sure to show how serious I am as I stare into the camera. Johnny Cannon may be the biggest obstacle in my way, but like I said, it could be my golden ticket… my opportunity at another shot at the PRIDE Title.
