Must Suck, Doesn't It?
Oct 13, 2016 20:00:20 GMT -5
Post by Chandler Scott on Oct 13, 2016 20:00:20 GMT -5
October 11, 2016
Tampa, FL
Off-Cam
“I must say, this whole ‘letting Zero get the upperhand’ thing?” Preston Blake asks me while gesticulating with his hands. “ I’m not a fan of you going out there and allowing yourself to get outworked on the mic. A wordsmith such as yourself should be handling a guy like him with ease. That guy is nothing but lightwork for you. You hear me? Lightwork! But I can see where you’re going with this strategy. It lulls him into a false sense of security. It makes him even cockier than he already is. Then BAM, you knock him out with the verbal haymaker. Just like you’ll drop the hammer on him at Retribution. Roaring Hammer, that is.” Preston smirks after thinking he just came up with a nice play on words. I just shake my head and smile while closing the refrigerator door.
“I’m not letting Zero do anything,” I quickly reply back.
“Wait just a minute,” he’s quick to put on the brakes. Even going so far as to hold both palms out at me. “So you mean to tell me that you’re not intentionally letting him get the better of you? You mean to tell me that Zero is really going out there and shredding you at will? What a time to be alive.”
I scoff at the notion as I sit down at the island in the kitchen. “Hey now. He’s not ‘shredding’ anything, thank you very much. I just have more important things to do than sit around and entertain him. I’m not like all these other people. I don’t take his bait.”
“True,” he says as he concedes the last point. “But that’s not how he sees it. More importantly, it not how people like him see it. As unfortunate as it might be, there are people out there that think just like him. You know what they’re all saying? They’re saying Chandler Scott don’t got it like that anymore! They’re saying Chandler Scott done went soft! They’re saying Chandler Scott is Zero’s bitch, just like he was Zero’s bitch at Final Frontier!”
I shoot him a glance. But Preston is quick to put his hands up defensively. “...now I personally don’t think that. I mean c’mon now. But, you know that thought is out there. And some of these newfound friends of yours? They may not be saying it to your face. But I’m telling you, the thought may have crossed their minds once or twice.” He’s got a point.
“So what exactly do you want me to do?” I ask back. “Argue in circles with him for hours on end?”
“No,” he says. “I’m asking you to act like you give a damn.”
I immediately suck my teeth. “Since when don’t I care? You’re starting to sound just like Zero, you know that? Look, I can get in front of a camera and beat my chest just like him. I can yell until my voice is hoarse just like him. I can bark at anyone that passes by just like him. That doesn’t mean that I care. Some people talk the talk. Others walk the walk. You of all people should know that I’m the latter.” I shoot Preston another glance. He quickly tries to calm things down.
“Hey, no need to get hot at me. Save some of that for McHannon. You already know what’s he going to come with, anyway.”
I smirk. “Yeah, I’m well aware. ‘Something Something Something, 3-Time World Champion. Something Something Something, I tapped you out. Something Something Something, I’ve been on top for a year. Something Something Something, Savannah.’ I wouldn’t even be surprised if he throws a few digs at Emily or Madison just for good measure. ”
Preston winces when he hears the last name, but it goes unnoticed by me.
“So…” he asks
“... so what?” I ask back.
“So, are you going to get down in the dirt, too?”
“No,” I say before shaking my head.
“Well why the hell not?” he asks out of annoyance. “You already heard what that son of a bitch said. “I’m adopting Emily so she can learn from a real champion”??? “That wouldn’t have happened if she was my little sister”??? Man, fuck that guy.” Yeah, Zero’s a real piece of work.
“Listen, I’m all for the “Fuck Zero McHannon” movement,” I state. “But I’m not about to go down that road.”
“Really? This coming from the guy who said that Kevin Hardaway’s dead wife was rolling in the grave because she was ashamed of him? The same guy that mocked Sean Sands relentlessly for losing custody of his wife and kid.”
I sigh as I lower my head. I then get up from the stool and head over towards a nearby mirror in the living room. “Yeah, and? You think any of that was cool? You think I wasn’t an asshole for going down that road? Because that’s exactly what I was. I could throw insults about his goddaughter at him all day. And maybe if this was last year, I would. But I’m not that guy anymore,” I state as I look into the mirror.
“But you were on Twitter clowning his meltdown earlier this year along with everyone else. ‘Greatest. Meltdown. Ever.’, remember?” Fair point.
“Yeah, I was,” I admit. It wasn’t my proudest moment. “But what else did I say? I told him to put the phone away. I told him to keep his head up… that’ll be okay… that this too shall pass. All this wrestling business aside, I couldn’t even imagine what he’s going through. Not being able to see your own goddaughter? If I were in his shoes and my godchild was being kept away from me, I don’t know what I’d do. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the “Claire” shit is off limits.” I state with authority.
“Besides, I don’t need to hit below the belt to hit Zero where it hurts,” I say with a smirk. “I’ve been under that guy’s skin for awhile now. He’s on top of the world. He’s a three-time champion. But you know what else he is? He’s desperate as hell. Desperate men do desperate things, Prest. That means he’s also going to be reckless. And a reckless Zero is exactly what I want. He’s not going into that match with a clear gameplan. He’s running off of raw emotion. He’s running off of anger. All that “I saw red” stuff that Annie Zellor was talking about? That’s all he sees as soon as I log onto a social media platform. That’s all he sees when my name is uttered. That’s all he sees whenever he looks in my direction.”
“You’re right,” Preston concedes. “Desperate people do desperate things. But it goes both ways, though. You think there’s a line he won’t cross? And I’m not just talking verbally. You think he won’t try to get the jump on you as soon as you pull up to the arena? You think he’s above jumping you in the locker room? Or in the showers? You think he won’t go after your shoulder? I wouldn’t even be surprised if he’s learning some new techniques right now. But hey, you got that last part covered. Your boy is still sparring with him, right?” he asks. It’s been no secret that Zero McHannon has gone to the RISE facility from time to time to spar with none other than Andreas Lasiewicz.
“Yeah,” I confirm
“So, what did he say?” he leaves the question hanging in the air.
“What do you mean?” I ask
“What did Andreas say?” he asks back. “What inside info did he give you on McHannon? What moves is he going to bust out for the first time? What’s his strategy going into this match? I mean c’mon, this is supposed to be your guy, right? First off, if I were him, I wouldn’t be sparring with a guy that’s sworn up and down that he hates your guts. That’s just me. Second of all, if I were to spare with a guy like Zero, you best believe that I’d be running back to you with aaaaaall types of intel.”
“Andreas hasn’t said anything...” I trail off.
“And why the hell not?” he asks.
“I haven’t asked...” I once again trail off. Preston sits with a stunned look on his face.
“Hold up. First you don’t engage Zero. Then you refuse to hit that man below the belt despite all the disrespectful shit he’s thrown your way. Now you’re telling me your boy is not only sparring with this dude, but you haven’t even requested any info that could be key to you winning at Retribution? I hate to say it, but maybe McHannon is right. Maybe you just don’t want it bad enough anymore...”
Tampa, FL
Off-Cam
“I must say, this whole ‘letting Zero get the upperhand’ thing?” Preston Blake asks me while gesticulating with his hands. “ I’m not a fan of you going out there and allowing yourself to get outworked on the mic. A wordsmith such as yourself should be handling a guy like him with ease. That guy is nothing but lightwork for you. You hear me? Lightwork! But I can see where you’re going with this strategy. It lulls him into a false sense of security. It makes him even cockier than he already is. Then BAM, you knock him out with the verbal haymaker. Just like you’ll drop the hammer on him at Retribution. Roaring Hammer, that is.” Preston smirks after thinking he just came up with a nice play on words. I just shake my head and smile while closing the refrigerator door.
“I’m not letting Zero do anything,” I quickly reply back.
“Wait just a minute,” he’s quick to put on the brakes. Even going so far as to hold both palms out at me. “So you mean to tell me that you’re not intentionally letting him get the better of you? You mean to tell me that Zero is really going out there and shredding you at will? What a time to be alive.”
I scoff at the notion as I sit down at the island in the kitchen. “Hey now. He’s not ‘shredding’ anything, thank you very much. I just have more important things to do than sit around and entertain him. I’m not like all these other people. I don’t take his bait.”
“True,” he says as he concedes the last point. “But that’s not how he sees it. More importantly, it not how people like him see it. As unfortunate as it might be, there are people out there that think just like him. You know what they’re all saying? They’re saying Chandler Scott don’t got it like that anymore! They’re saying Chandler Scott done went soft! They’re saying Chandler Scott is Zero’s bitch, just like he was Zero’s bitch at Final Frontier!”
I shoot him a glance. But Preston is quick to put his hands up defensively. “...now I personally don’t think that. I mean c’mon now. But, you know that thought is out there. And some of these newfound friends of yours? They may not be saying it to your face. But I’m telling you, the thought may have crossed their minds once or twice.” He’s got a point.
“So what exactly do you want me to do?” I ask back. “Argue in circles with him for hours on end?”
“No,” he says. “I’m asking you to act like you give a damn.”
I immediately suck my teeth. “Since when don’t I care? You’re starting to sound just like Zero, you know that? Look, I can get in front of a camera and beat my chest just like him. I can yell until my voice is hoarse just like him. I can bark at anyone that passes by just like him. That doesn’t mean that I care. Some people talk the talk. Others walk the walk. You of all people should know that I’m the latter.” I shoot Preston another glance. He quickly tries to calm things down.
“Hey, no need to get hot at me. Save some of that for McHannon. You already know what’s he going to come with, anyway.”
I smirk. “Yeah, I’m well aware. ‘Something Something Something, 3-Time World Champion. Something Something Something, I tapped you out. Something Something Something, I’ve been on top for a year. Something Something Something, Savannah.’ I wouldn’t even be surprised if he throws a few digs at Emily or Madison just for good measure. ”
Preston winces when he hears the last name, but it goes unnoticed by me.
“So…” he asks
“... so what?” I ask back.
“So, are you going to get down in the dirt, too?”
“No,” I say before shaking my head.
“Well why the hell not?” he asks out of annoyance. “You already heard what that son of a bitch said. “I’m adopting Emily so she can learn from a real champion”??? “That wouldn’t have happened if she was my little sister”??? Man, fuck that guy.” Yeah, Zero’s a real piece of work.
“Listen, I’m all for the “Fuck Zero McHannon” movement,” I state. “But I’m not about to go down that road.”
“Really? This coming from the guy who said that Kevin Hardaway’s dead wife was rolling in the grave because she was ashamed of him? The same guy that mocked Sean Sands relentlessly for losing custody of his wife and kid.”
I sigh as I lower my head. I then get up from the stool and head over towards a nearby mirror in the living room. “Yeah, and? You think any of that was cool? You think I wasn’t an asshole for going down that road? Because that’s exactly what I was. I could throw insults about his goddaughter at him all day. And maybe if this was last year, I would. But I’m not that guy anymore,” I state as I look into the mirror.
“But you were on Twitter clowning his meltdown earlier this year along with everyone else. ‘Greatest. Meltdown. Ever.’, remember?” Fair point.
“Yeah, I was,” I admit. It wasn’t my proudest moment. “But what else did I say? I told him to put the phone away. I told him to keep his head up… that’ll be okay… that this too shall pass. All this wrestling business aside, I couldn’t even imagine what he’s going through. Not being able to see your own goddaughter? If I were in his shoes and my godchild was being kept away from me, I don’t know what I’d do. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the “Claire” shit is off limits.” I state with authority.
“Besides, I don’t need to hit below the belt to hit Zero where it hurts,” I say with a smirk. “I’ve been under that guy’s skin for awhile now. He’s on top of the world. He’s a three-time champion. But you know what else he is? He’s desperate as hell. Desperate men do desperate things, Prest. That means he’s also going to be reckless. And a reckless Zero is exactly what I want. He’s not going into that match with a clear gameplan. He’s running off of raw emotion. He’s running off of anger. All that “I saw red” stuff that Annie Zellor was talking about? That’s all he sees as soon as I log onto a social media platform. That’s all he sees when my name is uttered. That’s all he sees whenever he looks in my direction.”
“You’re right,” Preston concedes. “Desperate people do desperate things. But it goes both ways, though. You think there’s a line he won’t cross? And I’m not just talking verbally. You think he won’t try to get the jump on you as soon as you pull up to the arena? You think he’s above jumping you in the locker room? Or in the showers? You think he won’t go after your shoulder? I wouldn’t even be surprised if he’s learning some new techniques right now. But hey, you got that last part covered. Your boy is still sparring with him, right?” he asks. It’s been no secret that Zero McHannon has gone to the RISE facility from time to time to spar with none other than Andreas Lasiewicz.
“Yeah,” I confirm
“So, what did he say?” he leaves the question hanging in the air.
“What do you mean?” I ask
“What did Andreas say?” he asks back. “What inside info did he give you on McHannon? What moves is he going to bust out for the first time? What’s his strategy going into this match? I mean c’mon, this is supposed to be your guy, right? First off, if I were him, I wouldn’t be sparring with a guy that’s sworn up and down that he hates your guts. That’s just me. Second of all, if I were to spare with a guy like Zero, you best believe that I’d be running back to you with aaaaaall types of intel.”
“Andreas hasn’t said anything...” I trail off.
“And why the hell not?” he asks.
“I haven’t asked...” I once again trail off. Preston sits with a stunned look on his face.
“Hold up. First you don’t engage Zero. Then you refuse to hit that man below the belt despite all the disrespectful shit he’s thrown your way. Now you’re telling me your boy is not only sparring with this dude, but you haven’t even requested any info that could be key to you winning at Retribution? I hate to say it, but maybe McHannon is right. Maybe you just don’t want it bad enough anymore...”
This Saturday, wrestling fans are in for a treat. Live on Pay Per View, FGA presents Retribution. You want tag action? You want a grudge match? You want to see friends turned bitter rivals? We’ve got all of that. But then at the top, you’ve got us. Chandler Scott and Zero McHannon. Two men at the top of their games. Two men, as Zero would say, “are in their PRIIIIIIIIIIIIIME”. Two men, battling it out for the richest prize in our sport: the FGA World Championship. It doesn’t get much bigger than this. On one side of the ring is the challenger: the man that dominated for all of 2015. On the other side, the champion: the man that’s been at the top for all of 2016. The stakes don’t get much bigger than this. But let’s be honest with ourselves here, Zero. This match on Saturday? It’s not just about the championship, is it? This is about more than just a rematch from last year, right?
Of course I’m right. Because if we’re being truthful with ourselves, this match… is personal.
But for different reasons...
For me it’s personal because I feel like I have something to prove. Last year, you submitted me in the center of the ring. Beat me as clean as a sheet. But tapping out to you wasn’t embarrassing. There have been plenty of times where I talked a big game and was forced to eat crow the next day. I’ve lost big matches before and I will unfortunately lose them again. But last year at Final Frontier, I was the man. I was at the top of my game. But in an instant, it was gone. A snap of the fingers. That’s how quickly you locked on the gogoplata. Or “Closed Curtains”, as you affectionately call it. Place yourself in my shoes. Imagine running roughshod throughout a roster. Imagine being in the ring with the likes of Stevenson, Carmine, Hardy, Anders, Herrera, Page, Karma, Sands, just to name a few. That murderers’ row of names couldn't score a pinfall on me. Over the course of 15 months, there wasn’t a single person in this company that could pin me or make me submit. But in a flash, it was gone.
In that ring, I felt like I could do as I pleased. I was used to having all the power inside that ring. But when you locked on that submission, Zero, you made me feel powerless for the first time in a long while.
It’s a feeling that I never want to experience again.
When I came back from injury, I knew that we would cross paths again. And when that match was inevitably made, I made a promise to myself. If I got caught in that hold again, not only would I survive it, but I would escape it. But it’s one thing to say that to myself. It’s another thing to actually do it. That’s what I have to prove on Saturday. You can dismiss the following fact all you want, but I know I can beat you because I already have. Inside those ropes, I’ve pinned you one two three while you? You’ve made me submit. This Saturday, it’s about surviving and escaping the hold. It’s about walking out of there with the gold. It’s about refusing to let you close the curtains on my championship aspirations.
But for you, it’s personal for a totally different reason.
It’s personal for you because, simply put, you’re envious of me. You’re so envious of me you can hardly contain yourself.
And why, I don’t know! You’ve got your own pro football team. I don’t own any sport teams! You’re sponsored by Avion. I don’t have any companies sponsoring me! You’ve got your own tour bus. I don’t have my own bus! You’re a record three-time World Champion here. That’s something that even I can’t say. So I continued to rack my brain...
Why does Zero have so much hate in his heart for me?
Why is he so pressed?
For a guy that screams “Zero Fucks Given” every chance he gets, why is he always waist-deep in his fucking feelings when it comes to Chandler Scott?
Then it hit me!
It’s because you reek of insecurity just as much as you reek of alcohol.
It’s because everytime you look in my direction, that feeling of inferiority punches you in the gut.
It’s because even with all these titles to your name, you’re still the same lame ass that you’ve always been. And no amount of designer shades, fur coats, $500 skinny jeans and tubs of beard butter is going to change that.
Oh yeah, you’ll deny it. You’ll deny it with the same ferocity that Republicans deny Climate Change. But we all know it’s true. It’s why whenever you see me, you clinch your fists until your knuckles turn white. It’s why you utter my name through gnashed teeth. It’s why whenever you talk about Chandler Scott, everyone hears that tinge of hurt in your voice. It’s why when you you were punching that sex worker in the face, it was my save that you saw. It was my face that you were trying to cave in, not hers.
Unfortunately for you, I hit back. And boy, do I hit back hard. In fact, I’m gonna hit you so hard that your tampon’s gonna fall out. When I clasp these hands together, rear back and smash you across the face with the Roaring Hammer, I’m going to leave you looking like Roger Ebert in his later years. Though it’s probably a good thing you’ve got the whole beard thing going. It’ll go a long way towards hiding what little bit of jaw I leave you with.
When we hear you speak, we don’t hear absolute truths. We hear anger… envy… jealousy.
And why? Because you felt your big victory at Final Frontier was tainted because of some injury announcement? In your warped perception of reality, that was some last ditch effort by me to put the screws to you. But as usual, you couldn’t be more wrong. Unlike a certain somebody, I don’t have excuses at the ready when I lose. I can admit when I’ve been bested. Which is exactly what I did at Final Frontier when I took that title, put it on your shoulders and gave you a round of applause. Two weeks later, I came on these airwaves and congratulated you once again. I even told the whole world that you deserved all the praise. But that’s not what you wanted to hear. Naaaaaaah, you heard “Zero didn’t beat a healthy Chandler.” You heard “Chandler only lost because he was injured.” Pfft, typical Zero.
You may be a great talker.
You may be a great wrestler.
But no one is as quick to play the victim faster than you.
Just like a couple of months ago when Cordy and I were returning from injury, you started bitching about the two of us being shoved down everyone’s throat. You starting moaning about how the two of us were taking attention from people like you. Please, show me the countdown clock that ticked down to the moment of my return. Show me all of the tribute videos that aired during my absence. Show me all of the training montages that aired.
Oh that’s right, there weren’t any. But I understand it. That little thing called “the truth” doesn’t really work for your “woe is me” narrative, does is?
You want to talk about shoving things down people’s throats? Who is the one that constantly out here forcing his views, his thoughts and opinions down everyone’s throat? As if anyone asked for his irrelevant opinion, anyway. Who’s the one out here constantly telling people how they should and shouldn’t act?
Oh, that’s right! That was you again!
See, that’s the difference between me and you. I tell it how it is. You tell it how it might be.
I don’t have to craft bullshit stories. That’s your go-to move. I don’t have a persecution complex. That’s your lane. But let me tell you something, playboy. All these months you’ve been out here acting aghast and making it seem like the world is out to get you? All this time that you’ve been bending over backwards to play the victim? When that bell rings on Saturday and I wrap my hands around that neck of yours, you won’t have to play the victim anymore, buddy. Trust me.
For the past ten months, all you’ve done is act like a bitch. At Retribution, expect to be treated like one.
Though I will say this. The world may not be out to get you, but this roster most definitely is. But you know, that kind of comes with the territory of being a World Champion. But as you've perfectly demonstrated on more than one occasion, some people just can't handle the pressure of being the top guy. Some people just aren’t cut out to stay on top. There’s a select few that can climb there way up to the plateaus we’ve ascended to in this company. But it’s a whole different beast to stay up here in this rarified air. It’s what separates people like you from people like me. But don't you worry, Zee. When I take that title from you, I'll show you how to do this, son.
It must suck, doesn’t it? You main event pay per views for months on end. You put on tons of match on the year candidates. Hell, I’ll even go so far as to say that you’re the odds on favorite to win the 2016 Wrestler of the Year. But at the end of the day, you’re still stuck in Chandler Scott’s shadow.
Must suck, doesn’t it?
You devote so much time to me over the past 24 hours and to do what? To show us all your favorite pastime of talking out of your ass? Sure, your lips were moving. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but noise. See, I don’t fall for the tricks that everyone else does. You don’t intimidate me by barking in my direction. That whole “tapping out” thing? You played your cards too early. Maybe if you didn’t rub it in my face every chance you got, it would still sting. But after the 50th time hearing it, it’s nothing but noise. You don’t get a rise out of me by mentioning my family. See, I’m above that and I’m above you in every way, shape and form. I’m above you in the standings. Just like I’ll be above you on Saturday when I raise that title for a third time. Just like I’m above you in status. See, when it comes to legacies in this company, even with three World Titles to your name, you’re still chasing me. The only person I’m chasing… is myself.
Must suck, doesn’t it?
Nuked relationships. Horrible title runs. Scandals out the ass. Zero, my man, it’s been a sloppy year for you. After all the friendships you’ve tanked, after all the bridges you’ve burned, after showing your ass and turning yourself into public enemy number 1, you deserve some peace. Even a guy like you deserves some peace of mind. But don’t you worry. Big Buddy Chandler is here for you. Big Buddy Chandler is going to help you out by taking the weight of the World… Title… off your shoulders.
Now that? That doesn’t suck. That’s just Chandler Reigning Supreme… again.
Of course I’m right. Because if we’re being truthful with ourselves, this match… is personal.
But for different reasons...
For me it’s personal because I feel like I have something to prove. Last year, you submitted me in the center of the ring. Beat me as clean as a sheet. But tapping out to you wasn’t embarrassing. There have been plenty of times where I talked a big game and was forced to eat crow the next day. I’ve lost big matches before and I will unfortunately lose them again. But last year at Final Frontier, I was the man. I was at the top of my game. But in an instant, it was gone. A snap of the fingers. That’s how quickly you locked on the gogoplata. Or “Closed Curtains”, as you affectionately call it. Place yourself in my shoes. Imagine running roughshod throughout a roster. Imagine being in the ring with the likes of Stevenson, Carmine, Hardy, Anders, Herrera, Page, Karma, Sands, just to name a few. That murderers’ row of names couldn't score a pinfall on me. Over the course of 15 months, there wasn’t a single person in this company that could pin me or make me submit. But in a flash, it was gone.
In that ring, I felt like I could do as I pleased. I was used to having all the power inside that ring. But when you locked on that submission, Zero, you made me feel powerless for the first time in a long while.
It’s a feeling that I never want to experience again.
When I came back from injury, I knew that we would cross paths again. And when that match was inevitably made, I made a promise to myself. If I got caught in that hold again, not only would I survive it, but I would escape it. But it’s one thing to say that to myself. It’s another thing to actually do it. That’s what I have to prove on Saturday. You can dismiss the following fact all you want, but I know I can beat you because I already have. Inside those ropes, I’ve pinned you one two three while you? You’ve made me submit. This Saturday, it’s about surviving and escaping the hold. It’s about walking out of there with the gold. It’s about refusing to let you close the curtains on my championship aspirations.
But for you, it’s personal for a totally different reason.
It’s personal for you because, simply put, you’re envious of me. You’re so envious of me you can hardly contain yourself.
And why, I don’t know! You’ve got your own pro football team. I don’t own any sport teams! You’re sponsored by Avion. I don’t have any companies sponsoring me! You’ve got your own tour bus. I don’t have my own bus! You’re a record three-time World Champion here. That’s something that even I can’t say. So I continued to rack my brain...
Why does Zero have so much hate in his heart for me?
Why is he so pressed?
For a guy that screams “Zero Fucks Given” every chance he gets, why is he always waist-deep in his fucking feelings when it comes to Chandler Scott?
Then it hit me!
It’s because you reek of insecurity just as much as you reek of alcohol.
It’s because everytime you look in my direction, that feeling of inferiority punches you in the gut.
It’s because even with all these titles to your name, you’re still the same lame ass that you’ve always been. And no amount of designer shades, fur coats, $500 skinny jeans and tubs of beard butter is going to change that.
Oh yeah, you’ll deny it. You’ll deny it with the same ferocity that Republicans deny Climate Change. But we all know it’s true. It’s why whenever you see me, you clinch your fists until your knuckles turn white. It’s why you utter my name through gnashed teeth. It’s why whenever you talk about Chandler Scott, everyone hears that tinge of hurt in your voice. It’s why when you you were punching that sex worker in the face, it was my save that you saw. It was my face that you were trying to cave in, not hers.
Unfortunately for you, I hit back. And boy, do I hit back hard. In fact, I’m gonna hit you so hard that your tampon’s gonna fall out. When I clasp these hands together, rear back and smash you across the face with the Roaring Hammer, I’m going to leave you looking like Roger Ebert in his later years. Though it’s probably a good thing you’ve got the whole beard thing going. It’ll go a long way towards hiding what little bit of jaw I leave you with.
When we hear you speak, we don’t hear absolute truths. We hear anger… envy… jealousy.
And why? Because you felt your big victory at Final Frontier was tainted because of some injury announcement? In your warped perception of reality, that was some last ditch effort by me to put the screws to you. But as usual, you couldn’t be more wrong. Unlike a certain somebody, I don’t have excuses at the ready when I lose. I can admit when I’ve been bested. Which is exactly what I did at Final Frontier when I took that title, put it on your shoulders and gave you a round of applause. Two weeks later, I came on these airwaves and congratulated you once again. I even told the whole world that you deserved all the praise. But that’s not what you wanted to hear. Naaaaaaah, you heard “Zero didn’t beat a healthy Chandler.” You heard “Chandler only lost because he was injured.” Pfft, typical Zero.
You may be a great talker.
You may be a great wrestler.
But no one is as quick to play the victim faster than you.
Just like a couple of months ago when Cordy and I were returning from injury, you started bitching about the two of us being shoved down everyone’s throat. You starting moaning about how the two of us were taking attention from people like you. Please, show me the countdown clock that ticked down to the moment of my return. Show me all of the tribute videos that aired during my absence. Show me all of the training montages that aired.
Oh that’s right, there weren’t any. But I understand it. That little thing called “the truth” doesn’t really work for your “woe is me” narrative, does is?
You want to talk about shoving things down people’s throats? Who is the one that constantly out here forcing his views, his thoughts and opinions down everyone’s throat? As if anyone asked for his irrelevant opinion, anyway. Who’s the one out here constantly telling people how they should and shouldn’t act?
Oh, that’s right! That was you again!
See, that’s the difference between me and you. I tell it how it is. You tell it how it might be.
I don’t have to craft bullshit stories. That’s your go-to move. I don’t have a persecution complex. That’s your lane. But let me tell you something, playboy. All these months you’ve been out here acting aghast and making it seem like the world is out to get you? All this time that you’ve been bending over backwards to play the victim? When that bell rings on Saturday and I wrap my hands around that neck of yours, you won’t have to play the victim anymore, buddy. Trust me.
For the past ten months, all you’ve done is act like a bitch. At Retribution, expect to be treated like one.
Though I will say this. The world may not be out to get you, but this roster most definitely is. But you know, that kind of comes with the territory of being a World Champion. But as you've perfectly demonstrated on more than one occasion, some people just can't handle the pressure of being the top guy. Some people just aren’t cut out to stay on top. There’s a select few that can climb there way up to the plateaus we’ve ascended to in this company. But it’s a whole different beast to stay up here in this rarified air. It’s what separates people like you from people like me. But don't you worry, Zee. When I take that title from you, I'll show you how to do this, son.
It must suck, doesn’t it? You main event pay per views for months on end. You put on tons of match on the year candidates. Hell, I’ll even go so far as to say that you’re the odds on favorite to win the 2016 Wrestler of the Year. But at the end of the day, you’re still stuck in Chandler Scott’s shadow.
Must suck, doesn’t it?
You devote so much time to me over the past 24 hours and to do what? To show us all your favorite pastime of talking out of your ass? Sure, your lips were moving. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but noise. See, I don’t fall for the tricks that everyone else does. You don’t intimidate me by barking in my direction. That whole “tapping out” thing? You played your cards too early. Maybe if you didn’t rub it in my face every chance you got, it would still sting. But after the 50th time hearing it, it’s nothing but noise. You don’t get a rise out of me by mentioning my family. See, I’m above that and I’m above you in every way, shape and form. I’m above you in the standings. Just like I’ll be above you on Saturday when I raise that title for a third time. Just like I’m above you in status. See, when it comes to legacies in this company, even with three World Titles to your name, you’re still chasing me. The only person I’m chasing… is myself.
Must suck, doesn’t it?
Nuked relationships. Horrible title runs. Scandals out the ass. Zero, my man, it’s been a sloppy year for you. After all the friendships you’ve tanked, after all the bridges you’ve burned, after showing your ass and turning yourself into public enemy number 1, you deserve some peace. Even a guy like you deserves some peace of mind. But don’t you worry. Big Buddy Chandler is here for you. Big Buddy Chandler is going to help you out by taking the weight of the World… Title… off your shoulders.
Now that? That doesn’t suck. That’s just Chandler Reigning Supreme… again.