Afterburn for Vertigo E105

[FGA Office]

Catch up with your favorite FGA grapplers on Afterburn! Get their thoughts on the latest, their opponents, and other backstage happenings right here, only on Frontier+.

[Raphael Dallins]

Backstage at the Now Arena, Caroline Dallins is walking around in silence. The camera follows her as she looks around. Finally she stops right in front of a deadpan looking former United States champion. Sparrow continues to sit right on top of a production crate, not having moved since some of the officials left him there. No more U.S. championship, and of course the World Tag championships are still in the safekeeping of Silk & Cyanide. After so much success enjoyed by Def Before Dishonor, made to be examples by Logan Alexander was the last thing on the bingo card.

Caroline clears her throat to get her younger brother’s attention, but he doesn’t look up immediately. He just keeps staring past her, as though a world...Many worlds away. Caroline breathes in as though she’s trying to find the right words to tell her baby brother, and former client. She’s not one for coddling by any means and finally seems to find the words.

Caroline Dallins: Revenge is--

Sparrow: I understand now, Caroline.

Caroline Dallins: Uh...Great?

She stopped, clearing her throat.

Caroline Dallins: What do you understand?

Sparrow: Logan. I understand his situation. Having to use me and TJ to make himself look good like that. I mean if the best parts of my career were behind me and the best I could do is scrape together several failures just to finally...finally get it done even in the most half-assed fashion. I woulda done what he did to. I don’t have to like it, Caroline but...I respect the hustle. I do. I mean think of what it must be like to be Logan. Having to see so many new stars coming and going in this company, passing my name by again and again and again...And I’m never more than just half a feature. Hell, I would do anything to just have that fleeting moment of importance. I get it now Caroline.

Caroline’s face is one of...Heavy...Very heavy doubt.

Caroline Dallins: I don’t think that’s quite...Okay, baby brother. What are you gonna do about it?

To that Raphael...Sparrow? Whoever he is? One half of the tag champions shrug.

Sparrow: Nothing. Not a thing. I hope Logan is very happy with his hollow victory after being tossed around by me for at least several times, with more times to come in the future. I mean I couldn’t do it personally, making myself look that incompetent but more power to him. Just like Sara and Erin for that matter.

Caroline Dallins: Uh...

Sparrow: If they wanna play pretend champions because it makes them feel better, who am I to judge? I mean of course they aren’t good enough to beat me and TJ, and Def Before Dishonor has their number utterly and made them look like amateurs. I mean they’re multi-time tag champions mad that me and TJ got their number. Who looks worse in that? The team who beat one of the greatest tag teams Frontier Grappling Arts has ever seen...Or the team who are so hard up on the idea that they lost to a team that they had to steal championships. I feel [/i]bad, Caroline. Like, damn. What a shame. How many times are me and Teej gonna have to shame them like that. Maybe they’ll cut another diatribe about cheese graters.

A pause.

Sparrow: Hey, does it feel kinda reductive to you for Silk & Cyanide to talk about a kitchen utensil for twenty minutes one week and then go on and on about goddesses and womanhood the next week? It feels like...Can we talk about that?

Caroline Dallins: No. No Raphael we probably shouldn’t.

Sparrow: Oh. Alright, bet.

Caroline Dallins: You...Are you feeling okay, Sparrow?

He pauses. For the first time, he looks as though the name has not got much meaning to him.

Actually? Maybe none.

Raphael Dallins: Never better, C. Never better. Lemme go check on Teej and then you and me...We’re gonna talk.

[Owen Gonsalves]

Feint echoes of Run The Jewels can be heard in the background, acting as a backing track to a light applause from the crew and talent in the back as Owen Gonsalves walks through the curtain, battered and bruised, glistening in sweat, fresh off of his Game 1 win in his 7-match series against the Ace of FGA, Chandler Scott. He immediately pulls and unwinds his wrist tape, clearly still feeling the effects of a war against one of his peers.

He walks through, gently nodding in recognition at a few of the folks applauding the great performance, however through the exhaustion, it’s clear that Gonsalves is seething. A rare scowl on his face as he makes his way through the back, before finally finding some peace and quiet in a dimly lit corridor. He perches himself on top of a production case, continuing to unwind his wrist tape.

Owen Gonsalves: That’s one… That’s one, and you know, every fibre in my being wants to be happy about it, I want to be chuffed at the thought of getting a genuine submission victory over one of the best to have ever stepped into an FGA ring, but truth be told, I’m fucking annoyed more than anything else.

Dead silence.

Owen Gonsalves: I’m annoyed, because deep down, I didn’t want to be right about you, Chandler. I was hoping and fucking praying that I was wrong about everything I’ve said about you, but tonight you proved over and over again that I’ve been right this entire time.

He throws the remnants of his unwound wrist tape aside, temporarily dropping his hands onto his knees, taking in a few deep breaths before scoffing and shaking his head.

Owen Gonsalves: After everything I said, you’d think you’d realize that you’re in deep fucking waters in this series, you’d think that you’d look at this as something more than just a silly fucking basketball analogy, but imagine my surprise when I hear that while I’m warming up to prepare for a war, you’re wearing cute custom t-shirts aimed at someone who you aren’t even going to be wrestling for the next two months.

His eyes scorch through the lens of the camera. He shakes his head again.

Owen Gonsalves: Imagine my surprise when the bell rings and instead of trying to actually wrestle, you’re trying to play fucking head games and show me how tight your fucking handshake is.

He flexes his fingers for a moment as he talks about the first few seconds of the match.

Owen Gonsalves: Imagine my surprise when in the heat of the match, when you’ve got me dead to rights, you decide to pull out the tribute acts. Oi, newsflash Ace, if there’s one person who knows how to eat a Heartache’s Kiss and Second Crusade, and if there’s one person who can wrestle his way out of a Deprivation DDT, it’s me!

He thumps at his chest with the meat of his palm, the sound resonating throughout the quiet hallway.

Owen Gonsalves: Chandler, it amazes me that you, of all people, can’t grasp that this isn’t just another match for me. I am in the back half of my career and I don’t have a World Championship to my name to show for it. Every second I spend trying to make shit happen here, I am missing precious time with my daughter and sons. I am running out of time here, Chandler, and this series is an opportunity to prove that I am ready for a World Championship, that I’m ready to put this place on my back, it’s an opportunity to put a stamp on my career and to put myself in prime position to bring home championship gold to my family. And you’re taking me for a fucking joke?

The bewilderment is present in his face and his tone. The sweat soaks into his hands as he runs both of them through his bleached hair.

Owen Gonsalves: You wanna know why I won out there, Chandler? I won because you were too busy thinking about Seth Iser sucking eggs. I won because you walked in thinking this was some sort of friendly when it’s always been for championship points. I won because you were caught playing with your food. I won because you half-assed it tonight.

A moment of respite to catch his breath, and to collect himself. He hops off the production case, allowing it to slide further into the background.

Owen Gonsalves: I know how this works, Chandler. I know that tonight was a wake-up call for you, I know that it only gets more difficult from here. I know that you’ll walk into Fairfax, Virginia and wrestle like your life depends on it because you were embarrassed tonight. I know all that. But I need you to know that if I did all that out there for a win in Game 1? Imagine the lengths I’m going to go to, to pull out a win in Game 2.

A light scoff once again and a shake of his head before he walks off frame.