Post by The Last Real Man on May 12, 2016 18:18:45 GMT -5
April 16th, 2016
Hershey, Pennsylvania
”You know, for the record I saw his feet hit first,” says Goodrich, as he pops open a bottle of champagne. The cork bounces right off the ceiling in the locker room, and soon after the floor is painting with the bubbly as it strips ever so sensually down the bottle and falls to the marble floor.
“It all happened so damn fast, I don't even remember what went down. Those final moments were like a blur,” I said, popping a handful of painkillers into my mouth before washing them down with a bottle of water. Whole body was aching, every single fiber, tendon and what have you. “I just know my hand was raised at the end.”
“Spoken like a true winner, and it's been awhile since I've been able to call you that. I've missed this feeling,” he confessed, taking a swig from the bottle as I looked at him, smiling to hide the pain. I wasn't in the Rumble nearly as long as some other guys, but the wear and tear on my body made up for the time difference. “I still can't believe it.”
“Well you better start,” I said, grimacing as I leaned my head up against the wall, much too sore and in no particular hurry to move at all. “Because I’m back,” this coming from a guy stapled to the floor with ice packs hugging his legs. Yeah, I was back alright.
“You never left, you just had your head in the clouds,” he retorted, pointing the bottle at me. “And since you’ve come back down to Earth you’ve returned to form. What you did tonight, winning the Gold Rush Rumble? MANNNN. I don't even think you understand it.”
“Understand what?”
“The full scope and magnitude of what you just accomplished tonight,” he explained. “Tonight, you became relevant again.”
“Bullshit,” I spat, whilst I dragged my luggage up off the floor. All it took was Goodrich saying something ridiculous like that to get the gears grinding. “When have I ever not been relevant. I’m the biggest star in this company. I'm a household name. Everyone knows me. Shit. A year ago I was apart of the hottest feuds in this industry. Abby and I had something special. And I fought Las in a fucking classic. And the year before that-”
“You were a World Champion,” he interrupted, slamming the champagne bottle on the nearby bench. The room went quiet for a moment as I tried to register what was happening. While I busy assessing things, Quinn was busy signing. “For the last two years I’ve watched you middle in mediocrity, and fail to recapture your past greatness,” he started, shaking his head as I went on his spiel. “You failed to live up to the wrestler you were back then. You've been living in his shadow. But tonight, tonight was the first time I saw you step back into the light.”
I stood still, arms folded, not even contemplating a response - just listening.
“And I don't want to see you live in the dark again. I've waited too long, Johnny. Too much time has been lost.”
But as he was voicing his very valid opinion, I couldn't help but trail off. I didn't want to, but something wasn't right. A night like, my biggest one, my biggest win in the company, and it still didn't feel right, like there was something missing.
“You’ve wasted countless opportunities because you allowed yourself to be distracted by things that served no consequence to you. Women, they come and go. Money, it comes and goes. But THIS...”
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January, 2016
“... I want THIS forever.” I wrapped my arms around her frame, playfully running my fingers through the collection of beautiful brown strands of hair hugging her scalp, while she rested her head on my chest.
“Really?” She asked, lifting her head up just high enough to look me in the eyes.”
“I feel like I’ve been looking for you my whole life.” I told her, watching as my words brought a smile to her face.
“I'm glad that make you happy, my dear. I still don't know what you see in me. Especially when you can have just about any woman you want.”
I smiled, pulling her hair back to look right into her eyes.
“You're the only one that I want...”
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April 16th, 2016
Hershey, Pennsylvania
”...do you hear what the fuck I'm saying to you!” I shook my head frantically, snapping out of the daydream. Goodrich was still going on, fully animated with his face red and neck veins popping out. The passion and fervor in his voice drew me back to reality.
“Yeah, I hear you,” I said, nodding like I had been paying attention. “You don't have to jump on my back. I’m focused. I feel like I’ve been given a second wind.”
“Good. Now let's make sure every breath counts. Every breath, every thought and every second from this point moving forward needs to be dedicated to preparing you for All Star Showdown.”
He was right. The reason I signed with FGA was because it was the place to be. Best wrestlers in the world were under this roof, and I wanted to beat them. And after what happened in San Diego, I needed to prove to the world I still had it. I need to to be World Champion again.
“And we don't even know what FGA has planned. They may decide to make it Triple Threat. Can never be to sure with these things. Point is, you need to be ready regardless. Understood?” He went on.
“Yeah, Quinn, I fucking get you.”
“No, don't get me, get yourself. You get yourself in line and in check, and you make sure your eye stays on the ball and nothing else. This is your time now. Nothing else matters. It's just you-”
“Sweeeeeetheeeeaaaaarrrtttt!” The door flew open, and in came the other winner of the Gold Rumble. Our little heart to heart was abruptly over. “What a night baby, what a night!”
It was time to celebrate. The New Kings had taken over FGA. Despite what felt like the entire world ganging up to stop us, we still came out and conquered.
But it still felt empty. Maybe it was the fact that the ending was so controversial that diminished the accomplishment for me.
No.
She should be here with me, sharing this moment.
“Hey listen, can you give me a minute. Gotta make a quick call.” I told Carmine, patting him on the shoulder as I made my way to the door.
“Where’s he going?” He asked, turning to Goodrich. Quinn simply shook his head as the door slammed shut behind me.
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April 17th, 2016
Hershey, Pennsylvania
I'm not sure if you watched this weekend or anything. But idk. Kind of a bittersweet feeling, not sharing that moment with you.
I sent that text, despite my pride telling me not to. I didn't think she’d respond, then my phone notification went off, and a glimmer of hope manifested.
I did not watch. However, my sports writers have informed me about your recent success. Congrats
I should've let it go there.
I see.
Well at least fill me in on what you've been up to.
But I can't let it go down like this.
I'm proud of you. Not that I expect anything less. Still. Glad that everything is going well for you love.
If there's a chance I've gotta take it.
Same to you. Continue to work hard.
I wasn't supposed to fall this hard. Wasn't supposed to care about her she was just a fucking fling. Another pretty face on the body count.
Somewhere along the line I got too attached.
Now I can't let her go.
She gave me something I never had.
Put me onto a drug that I can't quit.
I need my fix.
I need my dealer.
I need her.
You Made Me A Believer
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The scene opens right up to a shot of The British Mamba, as Cannon is seated on a set of steps, backdropped by the Freedom Civic Center. The Englishman is dressed rather peculiarly, as his usual polished and extravagant tailored suit has been substituted for a tee shirt - a Fujiko Mine shirt to be specific.
“You can't stop Fujiko.” Chants the co-number one contender to the FGA World Championship, as he balls a fist and throws it in the air.
“You can't stop Fujiko!” He says again, smiling as he pumps his fist a second time.
“You can't stop Fujiko.” And a third time, before he removes a vintage pair of Cartier sunglasses from his face, placing them on the steps beside him.
“It's a shame you chose to become a professional wrestler, Fuji. Honestly, with the way you constantly sell lies to the masses, you would've been better suited for politics. Hell, you would have certainly had a good shot at becoming the Commander In Chief looking at the current presidential field. You dropped the ball there love,” he claims. “Just like you did roughly a month ago at the Gold Rush Rumble.”
“You know, there's two things that I don't understand, Fuji. One of them is this delusion that you have, that you’re better than what you are,” he says, visibly puzzled by the mere thought. “The other, being the unwarranted level of arrogance, and self-assurance that you speak with when you run your mouth - that sense of entitlement, as if you’re the greatest thing walking the Earth and the world just doesn't know it.” He scoffs.
“Because despite what you think, we know, Fuji. We being the select few individuals in this game who see no need to talk you up, or kiss your ass, which therefore gives us an unbiased point of view. And with that POV, we can accurately assess your talent.”
“Back in January when we crossed paths, talent is what I said you lacked. But I’ve changed my mind since then. However, that has absolutely nothing to do with that match. I don't even remember it to be completely candid. I just know neither one of us was the victor, because that's what the history book says, and unlike you, I don't count moral victories. Hov said they're for minor league coaches, and he was right.”
“You changed my opinion in Hershey,” he confesses. “Before the Rumble, I ran you down. I said you didn't have a bloody chance of winning and that it was a forgone conclusion that either Tony or myself would leave the victor. Now of course I was right,” he tosses in, smiling ever-so-confidently. “But I'm not here to gloat. I'm actually here to give you the measure of respect that you think you deserve.”
“At the Gold Rush Rumble you lasted far longer than you should've, and competed harder than most thought you could, or would give you credit for. Despite us counting you out, despite nobody with an opinion worth a damn giving you a chance, you bet on yourself. You spoke as if you were destined to overcome the odds, as if it had been written in stone millennials ago. And when you reached the Final Four, well you had the entire world believing.”
“I remember it. I remember surveying the landscape, my chest pumping up and down, my heart beating at a hundred miles a minute, just brimming with adrenaline as I looked at each corner. I saw the former FGA World Champion, Jimmy Page in one. I saw the former two time Pride Champion, Tony Carmine in the other. When I looked at them, I wasn't shocked. They belonged. They were the two names mentioned the most, the names people were hedging their bets on. They were supposed to be there.” He explains.
“I closed my eyes for a second at that point, realizing who I was up against, I had to formulate a game plan. As everything died down and the world came to a still, I opened my eyes and turned to the next corner to see someone picking them self up off the floor - and it was YOU. I saw you of all people, drenched in sweat and a year’s worth of physical anguish, I was left wondering how you were even able to stand, let alone reach that point.” Cannon says, shaking his head in amazement.
“You looked at Tony, then Page, then you got caught in my crosshairs. We locked eyes Fujiko, and it was at that moment you earned my respect as a competitor. For the past few months you’ve talked about being overlooked, talked about having to constantly prove yourself because you’ve felt slighted - but you deserved it,” he claims, his tone somewhat dismissive. “You didn't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as FGA’s breath because your name didn't belong next to ours.”
“Since I came to FGA, I’ve watched you constantly stumble and fall. I’ve watched you constantly fumble the ball. I've watched you constantly talk yourself up, having the fans thinking you’re on your way up, on your way to breaking through the glass ceiling. But each time you faltered. Each time you proved you were not quite on par with the rest of us.”
“But at the Rumble, I started to think otherwise. For the first time Fujiko, I honestly thought you might have it in you. I thought you were finally tapping into that potential. Thought you were finally ready to be more than a hashtag, more than a nice body and a plastic face. And I wasn't the only one. The entire world did too. You had an arena full of people and probably millions around the globe cheering you on. I heard them.”
“FU-JI-KO!!! FU-JI-KO!!! FU-JI-KO!!! FU-JI-KO!!! FU-JI-KO!!! FU-JI-KO!!!” He chants in a loud whisper.
“It felt like I was watching a star being born. As us three pounced on you, you welcomed the challenge. We came at you, and you turned us away. Then we’d get right back up only for you to put us down again. It was like something out of a movie, like one of those cliched sports films where the underdogs spend the whole film under life’s boot until they finally reach the promised land. It was unbelievable.”
“You even eliminated Jimmy Page!” He stressed. “At that point the roof of the building came off, and I swear on my sons life I never felt energy quite like that. And for a brief moment there Fujiko, you had me doubting myself. Despite everything shaping up in our favor, you were thwarting it all. You made me a believer! I thought it was divine intervention.”
“But looking back on it, now I know it was, because only God would have such a wicked sense of humor, playing such a joke on you the way he did. Only God would be so cruel as to let you get that far, just to end your dreams so harshly. All that time you spend on your knees for the man, you'd think he’d treat you better. And the look on your face when you realized that you had been eliminated, when you realized it was midnight and that you had to return your dress and shoes - Cinderella that was almost as fulfilling as winning the Rumble.” He says, cackling. “After all that hard work, all that energy you expelled, you still left empty handed.”
“You still failed.”
“And that's the difference between you and I love. You see, there’s a reason I’ll be in the Main Event at All Star Showdown V, while you’ll be looking on through eyes filled with envy and disdain as I do all the things you wish you could. And it's simple. It's because I have something you just don't possess.”
“Pedigree.” He declares.
“I have the will and the spirit of a champion, because I’ve been to the mountain top. I've been baptized by fire, having wrestled legends whose legacies you could never even dream of measuring up to - and I’ve beaten them. That's why when the going gets tough, I don't fold. I don't crack under the pressure, I thrive off it. I'm a proven winner.” He says, climbing to his feet. “I've proven I can go to another level, turn up the volume, and reinvent the wheel when the situation calls for it. I’ve proven that my recent losing streak was but a mere fluke and that I’m still the measuring stick in FGA.”
“All you’ve proven Fujiko, is that you know how lose. Despite the gains you’ve made, despite the time you put in the gym, - you can never put it all together when the situation demands it. You reach for stars, but end up with grey clouds. Every time you have an opportunity to cement your place in this company - you come up short. You constantly flirt with success, you come dangerously close, within inches of grabbing that brass ring and the recognition you so desperately covet - but you NEVER take it.”
“Gold Rush was no different than any other high profile Fujiko Mine match. You had the entire Universe supporting you, their energy and determination coursing through your very body, keeping you on your two’s when even your body couldn't. And somehow, with all that going for you, you STILL went home with nothing to show for it.”
“And you're going to do that this Saturday,” he guarantees, as he begins to ascend the stairs. “You're going to walk up these stairs, and you're going to walk through the doors of the Freedom Civic Center, and then you're going to run to the ring,” he continues, speaking with the utmost assurance. “And then you're going to battle me in one of the best rematches in FGA history. It’ll be one of the best matches of your career because it's a match that you need to win. You need to prove your mettle, need to prove you're the Fujiko that almost shocked the world in Hershey, Pennsylvania, and NOT the Fujiko that's been laughed at, and disrespected her entire FGA career.”
“And you're going to do exactly what you said you would. You're going to take my best shots, and you're going to give it back tenfold. You'll get knocked down, and then you’ll get right back up begging for more like some dizzy broad with Stockholm Syndrome because that's what you do - you make things interesting. You persevere. You fight with everything you’ve got, and you get the crowd behind you. And at one point, you’ll have them going wild; chanting your name, and for a moment you’ll even close in on victory.”
“And then like always, you’ll just wet the bed. You’ll pick yourself up off the floor, your head still ringing after I’ve just kicked you in it, wondering how you can go from having the world at your feet to being buried beneath it. And that's when it will hit you.”
Cannon gets the top of the stairs now, slowly placing on his sunglasses.
“You’ve got everything Stan Bush sang about.”
“You've got the heart.”
“You’ve got the motion.”
“You've got everything but the touch.” He says with a wry smile.
“And that's not enough to get to where you want to go, because you need THAT, and much more to hang with me. That’s why you didn't win the Rumble, and that's why you won't win this Saturday because unlike you I’ve got it.”
“I've got the touch that turns anything to gold.”
“I touched Tony Carmine and he became a KING!”
“Last time I touched you, like every woman I've been with you begged for another five minutes.” He jokes.
“Saturday, I’ll give you twenty.”
“And after that, after you reach your climax, I’ll go on to reach mine at All Star Showdown V when I become the FGA World Champion.” And with that we fade to black.
