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Post by Ben Jacobs on Jul 18, 2009 9:42:18 GMT -6
Post RPs below
Information
- Roleplays for SuperShows are based on a 100 pt. scale
- RP Limit: 3 per person, per match
- 20 pt. early RP bonus for first rp which scores more then 50 and is posted before Wednesday, July 22nd @ 3:00pm (Board Time)
- RP Deadline: Saturday, August 1st @ 11:59pm (Board Time)
- Match/Segement Deadline: Monday, August 3rd @ 10:00am (Board time)
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Post by Alex Crowe on Jul 23, 2009 17:30:11 GMT -6
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Post by Nate Sipes/The New Level on Jul 31, 2009 16:16:36 GMT -6
7/30/09
Curwensville, PA
*************** [The room is smaller than most dungeons; the few lights that still work seem to flicker constantly; a drip off in the distance indicates that a small leak has sprung in the water pipe. A person would be hard-pressed to believe that anyone would train in a facility such as this, let alone the RCW Natural Champion himself, Nate Sipes. At least, that’s what the camera crew thinks as they carefully make their way into the rundown facility. As they do, they watch Nate inside the equally dilapidated ring in the middle of the room; working on his grappling game with a large punching bag with fake arms. Nate tackles the dummy to the floor and works on ground-and-pound techniques. He then hooks one of the bag’s arms with an armbar and holds it for a few moments. After he lets go, he pats the side of the bag before turning around and noticing the camera crew. Nobody says anything for what seems like an eternity; the crew still in shock from the condition of the room; Nate recovering from an obviously long training session with sweat dripping from every pore.] Twenty Minutes Later… [Having finished his training for the day, Nate lets the camera crew back in. They set up their equipment in front of the ring; Nate taking this respite to wipe himself down. He then takes a metal folding chair and sets it between the ring and the camera. He places his white towel on the back of his neck and shoulders as he sits down; the camera now set up. Before starting, he notices Maya watching from the back of the room. She waves to him and he responds with a wink. His demeanor turns to serious as he looks back to the camera. The operator goes through his countdown before turning the camera on. Once he finishes, the red record light in the front turns on. Nate begins by wiping his still wet hands together; slowly; methodically. He looks down at his hands while doing this; not even paying mind to the camera for the moment. He continues to wipe his hands together as he slowly lifts his head and stares directly into the camera.]NS: When Doug defeated Havoc in the Ultimate Lights Out Match at the last Hog Heaven, I figured that the last nail was in the coffin of this war. I guess a Higher Power had other things in mind.[Nate quits rubbing his hands and simply clasps them together.]NS: In fact, that night was when a whole new chapter began; a new battle; a new enemy. HERO, the worst kept secret alias of Alex Crowe, marched to the ring that night and appeared that he would stop that sore loser Jonathan Page from cracking me in the skull with a chair. While he ran Page off, Crowe used that chair on me himself and so began his quest to be taken seriously again.[Nate chuckles to himself as he recollects that moment; looking to the floor again as his mind focuses on the chair shot.]NS: That chair shot…no chair shot ever came quicker or more painful than when it came from a former friend. Crowe can say whatever he wants to about Doug and I turning our back on him but that night was when Crowe truly stabbed me in the back. In fact, whatever pain that was felt by that chair was quickly numbed over by the shock of who it was who had the nerve to hit me. You would expect someone such as Page or Ase or even Hardcore Jesus to sneak attack someone but not a man who claimed to be a hero. Despite what he claimed to be and what he claims happened to him, Alex Crowe also proved that his only “hero” is himself. He worships his own footsteps and treats the bullsh*t he spews as gospel. He loves to tell this tale on how “the evil Doug and Nate robbed me of my innocence and didn’t give me my share of the spotlight. Oh woe is me,” sayeth the pauper Alex Crowe.[Nate takes his right hand and whips his towel down from his neck. He starts twisting the towel in his lowered hands as he continues.]NS: So, Alex, the question I have to ask is this: are you more upset that we didn’t include you in our war games endgame or that you missed out on this spotlight that came with it? Considering the way you spoke and the yelling that came from your words, my vote is on the latter because you came off as whining about not getting this match. You may not believe it, Alex, but it’s the truth: after your bloody chain match loss to Nick Zildjian, nobody in the 7DA wanted to risk your health further. With the comrades in arms that we had massed for Steel Cage Warfare, we knew that we could rest you up for a later battle had we lost. Of course, Tiffany tilted the match in our favor and we ended the FOE’s dark reign over RCW.
And yet we continued to hear this incessant whining from you, Crowe. You wanted to be in that match; you wanted the spotlight that you felt was yours. Yes, Crowe, you did deserve our thanks for what you’d done in the war but you had extended yourself in that chain match and were in no shape to compete in Steel Cage Warfare. In every war, a great leader knows when one of his forces has fully extended themselves and should be pulled back to refit and regroup. That’s the way it was with you, Crowe. You deserved a rest. Instead, you said how we disrespected you and slighted you and all of this other bullsh*t.
Considering the fact that after you took another beating from Pain & Suffering, spent the next several weeks under a mask and acting like a superhero, I don’t think we can ever deny the fact that you truly needed then and need now some serious psychological help. That’s why you didn’t want to bring up your alter ego, Crowe, because you’re still hiding from the fact that you weren’t fully prepared for the final battle against the FOE. You hid behind that mask to shy away from the responsibility of owning up to your physical and psychological pain that you were suffering from. You wanted me to be honest and that’s how I honestly view this whole situation.
Besides, like I said, this all sounds more like you b*tching about not getting in on the glory of defeating the FOE. You were upset that the record books would show the 7DA gaining the decisive win and only show you losing another battle. However, let me make this clear: a true warrior doesn’t seek fame or glory when he fights because knowing that his FOE is vanquished is glory enough. Doug, the 7DA and I didn’t walk into that cage because we wanted the fans to pat us on the back and tell us how “cool” the match sounded or how brave they thought we were. We did it because the FOE was a cancerous tumor on the collective mind of RCW and needed to be wiped out. The 7DA did just that, celebrated that night and then moved on to other things. However, it seems like that night never ended for you, Crowe, because you’re the only one who won’t let it go. You felt that by us knowing that we’d expunged a threat like the FOE that the fans would treat us as gods when the truth is that the fans seemed to forget about the war even faster than we did.
You see, Crowe, I have moved on, the 7DA has moved on, and the fans have moved on. You’re the only one who continues to hold onto this little shred of fame that you got from that war. What really makes you mad, Crowe, is when you say to people that “I was involved in the war against the FOE” and the fans ask you “what was that?” Again, they rob you of the little glory that you got and since you’ve proven that you’re a glory wh*re, Crowe, that’s what really dug at you. It isn’t this belief that we ignored you or that you think we didn’t care about you but that the fans still don’t recognize you even after two years in this company. In fact, the only way they’ll recognize you now is by being the latest victim to Natural Champion Nate Sipes and even then the people will only remember you until the next guy comes along who’s crazy enough to challenge me.[Nate slowly lifts his head back up to look into the camera. He then slowly rotates it to the left so that it sits at a slight angle; a look of annoyance appears on his face.]NS: Then again, maybe it would’ve been the best thing for Doug and I to allow you into Steel Cage Warfare so you could get murdered by the FOE because then I wouldn’t have to sit through all of this “What about me? What about Alex Crowe?” garbage. You certainly ran down every detail on how we supposedly scr*wed you over in your last promo, Crowe. Yeah, I said you weren’t championship material at that point and I still don’t. What, in your tenure in RCW, has proven that you are worthy of being a champion? If you go by records alone, you have six losses against twelve losses. If you wouldn’t have been the guy who attacked me from behind, what would a guy with your record be doing in this match? Everybody else who’s gone after this belt has proven they belonged in a title match through the process of winning matches. Jonathan Page was undefeated when he challenged me at the last Hog Heaven. Havoc had only lost once in his RCW tenure when I challenged him. Doug had only one singles loss when he faced Brock Davids for the Natural Title. I, the current champion, am still undefeated in singles competition. Of course, you could be saying that you could look good in defeat because you lost to some of the best, right?[Nate shakes his head “no.”]NS: Not every time out. You’ve made losing an art form but not always against the best that RCW has to offer. Whether you’ve been Alex Crowe or HERO or the Illusionist or whatever, you have lost to guys like Ase, Nick Zildjian and Doug Gavelon, you’ve also lost to men such as Kip Reeves on your first night and even Cletus Beauchamp.[Nate’s face twists into a look of surprise and disgust. It’s a look that seems to say “are you kidding me?” He shakes it off and turns back to his serious demeanor.]NS: You can complain all I want about how you think I considered you a curtain jerker by my comments but when you lose to a guy like Cletus, you aren’t exactly a main event superstar. In fact, the majority of your wins have come in tag team matches…WITH DOUG AND I AS YOUR PARTNERS! That’s right, Crowe! As much as you want to deny it and try to hide from it, WE lead YOU to victory on many occasions. In fact, you haven’t lost when you’ve had me or Doug as your partner. I can’t say the same for your former ally the Human Spider but at least he tried to help you during your most vulnerable moments. So, Crowe, you can certainly make a case on how much we needed you for Steel Cage Warfare but not only did we prove that we didn’t when we won that match but we also have proven time and time again that you need us more than we need you. Therefore, I hope YOU enjoyed the night when I raised your hand over Jonathan Page because it was something that rarely comes to you in this company, Crowe, and that’s a victory.[Nate’s eyebrows raise and he quickly places his left hand over his mouth.] NS: Oops! Sorry, I’d better watch it when I speak the truth because Mr. Sensitive Alex Crowe might get upset and whine his way through a promo again.[He soon puts his hand down and begins twisting the towel as his face becomes semi-serious; the smirk becoming harder to hide.]NS: Go ahead, Crowe. Tell me that I’m wrong about your losses. Tell me about how each time you came up for a chance at the belt and lost that it wasn’t your fault. Try and convince me that when you lost a non-title match to Doug during his reign or lost the #1 contenders match to Havoc when he was masquerading as H that it wasn’t your fault. Somehow show me how you believe, in your jumbled, confused, little mind how being beaten to a pulp by Ase makes you better than me. Excuses, excuses. In the end, that’s all you have Crowe: a laundry list of excuses on why your star isn’t as bright as you hoped it would be. You’ve fumbled every time the RCW brass tried to hand you the ball and this match will be no different. At the Family Arena, the people in Missouri will take away three things from their first experience of RCW:[Nate slings the towel back over his right shoulder as he holds up his index finger on his left hand.]NS: …the excitement of seeing RCW live…[Nate holds up his middle finger.]NS: …the athleticism shown in every single match…[He finally holds up his ring finger.]NS: …and that Nate Sipes is the deserving champion because neither of his opponents could hold a candle to his greatness.[Nate lowers his hands and folds them back together.]NS: While it’s not my intention to destroy you at School of Hard Knocks, it is my intention to destroy what little threat you pose to my championship reign at that show. Once this match happens and my arm is raised, maybe you’ll finally say to yourself, “you know, Nate was right. I’m not ready to be a champion and could really use some mental help. Maybe I should step away for now and re-evaluate myself.” If you don’t, then you’re in over your head worse than I thought.[Nate looks to his side and chuckles as he remembers Crowe’s lacking comments about the third member of their title match. He raises his head back up to stare into the camera.]NS: In fact, the only thing that we can both agree on is the lack of courage, dedication and even appearance of our other opponent Jonathan Page. Page, it seems like I was right about you. Not about you having talent because three straight losses and now this inactivity has proven that inaccurate. No, I’m talking about that little chat you had with your old friend a few weeks ago. You talked about going back to some other low-brained promotion and I said on how you’d have no choice but to go there once I defeated you again. You losing to Crowe just cemented that fact. So, Page, show up; don’t show up; it doesn’t really matter to me because I’m tired of wasting breath on a waste of a spot like you. You are but the pothole to Crowe’s bump in my road to retaining my title once again. Both of you will see just what happens to those who think they’re better than me; those who are in over their heads. You’ll find yourselves on the negative side of a serious a**-kicking and I’ll do that by using wrestling at its purest form. See you boys on August second.[The camera cuts out as the crew quickly gathers their belongings; their last possible flight leaves in twenty minutes and they have to catch it. As quick as they tear down their equipment, they quickly run out the door. Nate looks over on the scene and jokingly wonders if anyone was ever there at all. His gaze turns to Maya and his demeanor to a smile. He walks over to her and hoists her up into his arms. As they continue to embrace, they seem to lose themselves in each other’s eyes; not a word spoken. This last for several moments until something comes to Maya’s lips.]Maya: Do you want a real workout?NS: What did you have in mind?Maya: Just get in the ring and I’ll show you.[Nate shrugs his shoulders, lets his new love go and proceeds into the ring. He holds his arms to his side as if to say “so now what?” Maya responds with a smile before slowly, seductively pulling her dress down. Nate’s eyebrows rise as does his feelings of excitement. He leans against the ropes as he continues to smile.]NS: So what kind of training exercise do you call this?Maya: I call it rough and tumble grappling. Only mat wrestling involved and pinfalls have unlimited counts.NS: I see.[Maya finishes taking her dress off; her dark, flowing hair over her chest with only a g-string between her and exposure.]Maya: I hope you appreciate this and I’d better not here you tell your friends about this or else this is the last “match” you and I will ever have.[Nate shakes his head “no.”]NS: I do appreciate this and I love you for it. I hope I can show just how much I appreciate you someday.Maya: Good. Now, I just have to get into my attire.[Nate’s eyebrows rise again; this time with surprise.]NS: You’re not wrestling like that?Maya: Of course not.[Maya flashes another smile as she puts her knee on a bench next to her and starts to undo her g-string.]Maya: With all of your talk of pure wrestling, I figure you’d enjoy an old school Greco-Roman attire.NS: I guess I’d better do the same.[As he gets the word out, the faulty lights in the room seem to flicker out.] |
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Post by Alex Crowe on Aug 1, 2009 8:09:36 GMT -6
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Post by High Society on Aug 1, 2009 15:12:09 GMT -6
Page lay back on his barge of pillows. This was more like how things were supposed to be: the tea tray, the telephone, the wallet of mail. The weekend kitchen staff had arrived and were in the process of making his breakfast. Through the open window he could hear the gentle patter of rain and the twitter of birdsong. Murmurings from another world or so it seemed. He had submitted to his slumber so deeply that when he awoke his first thoughts were not of imminent title disputes or quarrelsome Yankees prone to hyperbole. No. His waking musings were more concerned with just how great it was to be Jonathan Page.
His absence from the ring had caused quite a stir. Fans and critics alike bemoaned his inactivity – the former yearning for his flamboyance, his charisma, his star appeal; the latter… well, they spoke of broken promises, fallen idols and failed potential. Was there any validity in the rumours that he had jumped ship and joined a rival promotion or that had he fled back to England on the back of yet another crushing defeat? How about the bizarre tales of his untimely death at the hands of a crazed fan? Jonathan Page had always been a mythical figure in the eyes of the public. Knowingly or not he had cultivated an aura of mystery and intrigue and he clung to the notion that illusion was the first of all pleasures. Reality so often betrayed his regal image, his indomitable persona. The fact that it had been a recurring back injury, rendering him virtually immobile for several days, that had snatched him from the limelight was irrelevant. The image that he wished to project was that of a Yorkshire terrier, a fighter, an image of iron jaw and steely determination. This Jonathan Page would never succumb to a couple of fractured vertebrae. This Jonathan Page would crawl off his sickbed if necessary. This Jonathan Page would crawl off his sickbed and carry his sorry carcass all the way to the ring. This Jonathan Page would crawl off his sickbed, carry his sorry carcass to the ring and bang their bloody heads together. Their bulbous bloody skulls. Their sneering sanctimonious faces.
He propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head. Reaching for the remote he turned on the television and proceeded to flick through the channels absentmindedly. He’d convinced himself that this was business. He’d tried his best to distance himself from the events of the past few weeks. Distance himself from the taunting and the name calling. Distance himself from the accusations and the finger pointing. From the mudslinging and the obscenities. From the clenched fists and the constant needling. This wasn’t a personal matter. This was business. This was about the alpha male asserting himself. This was about marking out your territory. That’s what they resented. That this limey bastard should encroach on their territory and take what’s theirs. That he should steal their fifteen minutes of fame, jeopardise their chance to make a name for themselves. That he should put himself forward as heir to the throne.
“Good morning Humphrey.”
“Good morning, sir.”
The immaculately dressed valet stooped to replenish his employer’s teacup. Page took a refreshing sip and smiled. Just right as usual.
“How’s the weather, Humphrey?”
“Exceptionally clement, sir, in spite of the rain.”
“Anything in the papers?”
“Oh, just the usual, sir. Union strikes, bank reforms. Otherwise, nothing.”
Humphrey placed a copy of the London Times next to Page.
“Any word on… on the…”
“Both Mr Sipes and Mr Crowe have been spoken to the media sir.”
“I say, Humphrey, that was rather quick off the mark. Did they have anything of any interest to say?”
“I took the liberty of recording the respective messages, sir. The tapes are here for you to watch when you find time. I also took it upon myself to invite the RCW media team to the house this afternoon. I thought you might like to address your competitors personally.”
Page groaned, his face contorting into a grimace.
“Oh, I do hate the inconvenience of these public messages. I’m a busy man as you well know. I can’t afford to answer to every bigoted heathen with an opinion. They pay me, albeit a pittance, to get in that ring and wrestle – not to wax lyrical about a couple of perma-tanned inbreeds.”
“I quite understand, sir. However, I thought it might send a powerful message to your fans, as well as your opponents, if you were to make a public appearance and reassure them of your current condition. After all, you wouldn’t want anyone to think you were apprehensive about the impending contest.”
“Apprehensive!” Page erupted. “Who said anything about feeling apprehensive!?”
“I was merely suggesting…”
“How exactly would you describe your role here, Humphrey?”
“I’m not quite sure I follow, sir.”
“It’s not a trick question. How would you define your employment here?”
“Well, if one had to label it, sir, one would be inclined to use the term valet.”
“Correct. And what, in your opinion, is the role of a valet?”
”One doesn’t like to generalise…”
“What do you do here, Humphrey?”
“Well, I suppose my main objective is to ensure your general comfort, sir.”
“And how do you do this?”
“Sir, I really…”
“I’m warning you Humphrey. Your impertinence is really starting to grate. Now answer the question.”
“Through domestic means mainly I suppose, sir. Washing, ironing… cooking occasionally.”
“That is correct. You are a male servant. A glorified bloody nanny. Not a personal adviser, not a bloody confidant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So next time you feel the urge to make suggestions just remember who pays your wages. Now get out of my sight.”
“Very well, sir. Should I retract the invitation to the RCW team?”
“What? Oh, no. I suppose I might as well humour them.”
“Very well, sir.”
With that Humphrey made a hasty exit. Page shook his head:
“I’ll show them apprehensive.”
He limped out of bed and moved towards the television where he placed the first of the recorded tapes. For the next few minutes he sat, perched at the end of the bed, open mouthed, his expression betraying a mixture of disbelief and quiet amusement as he endured the incoherent ramblings of his opponents. It never ceased to amaze him just how inarticulate professional athletes, and more specifically professional wrestlers, came across on television. These men were uneducated and completely lacking in self-awareness. He admired their gall in some respects. To address an English gentleman, such as himself, with anything other than reverent tones displayed a brazenness he had come to associate with the American people. It showed them both to be totally convinced by their own ability, something he could relate to insofar as he was himself self-absorbed and narcissistic. But then again he had reason to be. He came from good stock. He was an Oxford graduate. He possessed money and renown. He was your archetypal socialite, blessed with the looks of an Adonis and the mind of a poet. He truly was an English Dandy.
As Alex Crowe’s second vignette finished and the tape came to an end Page switched the television off and tried to get to his feet. Emitting the kind of noise one would associate with a wounded animal Page fell back onto the bed. There was no way he would be in a position to greet the RCW cameras at the door. He resigned himself to the fact that he would have to address his adoring public from the inner sanctum of his bedroom. He wasn’t enamoured with the prospect, a gentleman shouldn’t be seen lounging around in bed on the eve of an important title match, but there was no other option. He had no intention of sending the cameras away. It would look weak. He could see the glint in the eyes of his opponents as they heard that Jonathan Page, the Yorkshire terrier, was unavailable for comment on his upcoming title fight. No. This wasn’t ideal but it was a necessary evil.
Arching his back Page moved towards the head of the bed, grunting and groaning as he did so, until he was safely positioned in his cocoon of pillows. He pulled the bed sheets up to his waist just as there came a knock at the door.
“Who is it?”
“Humphrey, sir. The gentlemen from RCW have arrived.”
Page hesitated.
“One minute,” he yelled.
Picking up the mirror resting on the dresser he studied his reflection carefully, moving stray pieces of hair and brushing his unshaved face. Satisfied with what he saw, he called them in.
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Page: Good afternoon RCW and welcome to chez Page. As you can see I’m a little bit… indisposed at the moment. However, as you know an English gentleman always has time for his adoring public and here I am, entirely yours for the next few minutes.
Page smirks.
Page: It seems that in my absence both young Nathan and Alexander have engaged in a rather juvenile war of words. I have watched with keen interest as these two grown men bicker like children in a petty game of one-upmanship. Now I understand there is a fair amount of history that exists between these two men but I think I speak for everyone when I say that this rather convoluted soap opera is incredibly tedious. I don’t care about past indiscretions or family feuds. I care about the one person caught up in this mess that actually matters – Jonathan Page.
Page puts a hand on his chest.
Page: If you two wish to air your dirty laundry in public, so be it. I might find it distasteful, I might even think it improper but ultimately if you two knucklescrapers wish to beat each other to death over a petty dispute please, be my guests.
But this is no longer a private matter gentleman. This goes far beyond that now. You see when you implicated me in your sordid little squabble it became MY business. I don’t like the fact but I’m man enough to accept it. Watching Mr Crowe’s ham fisted attempts at engaging with the viewing public one thing struck me. In amidst all the inane superlatives he bestowed upon himself and the predictable jibes directed towards Nathan and myself one thing truly resonated. Mr Crowe finally conceded that his involvement at Hog Heaven had directly served to ensure that the belt remained with Sipes. I must confess to being quite taken a back by the frankness of this admission. The very fact that this man had the barefaced cheek to refer to the event without even the slightest sign of remorse evident on his face… well I was stunned. The man clearly has no sense of decency. The truth is Alex you question my entitlement to a rematch with Sipes and yet your participation is based upon a cowardly act that amounts to little more than a callous publicity stunt. Maybe you feared your return to the ring would not be greeted with the same sort of fanfare you’d envisioned. Well you certainly succeeded in making an impact. I’m sure large portions of the crowd didn’t even know who you were. They saw that rather quaint goatee beard of yours and assumed ZZ Top were in town. Maybe they thought Cletus was preparing to unleash another bucktoothed Beauchamp cousin into the company.
Page chuckles.
Page: I’m not questioning your motives Alex, quite the opposite in fact. I believe you had every need to reacquaint yourself with the fans. You’ve been gone a long time and we both know that these hicks don’t have the best of memories. What you need to realise is that in your absence I have made quite a name for myself. I have commanded the respect of every person on this roster and as for the fans… well they adore me. You need to acknowledge the changing of the guard. Your time has passed and coming to terms with this might help you to exorcise these irrational impulses you appear to suffer from.
Page shifts uncomfortably.
Page: I genuinely worry for your mental wellbeing Alex. This rather unsavoury habit of dressing up in masks and hiding your identity… it doesn’t sit well with me. I’d be more than willing to point you in the direction of a good therapist, you know, to show there are no hard feelings?
Page grunts and quickly puts a hand to his injured back.
Page: As for you Nathan, well I feel like we’re on fairly familiar territory here. As you have already mentioned, I was offered the opportunity to join Willy Myers in resurrecting his dwindling promotion. I would never be so crass as to mention exact figures but let me tell you that the contract he was proposing was substantially more lucrative than the one I am currently tied to. If truth be told I very nearly joined Willy. At first the opportunity seemed too good to turn down. So why did I stay? Why did I turn down the chance of a lifetime, the opportunity to work with my mentor, the opportunity to rekindle the success I had earlier on in my career? Simple. Nathan, you’ll be pleased to know that you were a major factor in my decision to stay. Money has never been a factor. I was born with the proverbial silver sthingy in my mouth. I have never wanted for anything. In the past if there was something I wanted I’d take it. And yet, on the two occasions we have met fate has conspired against me. Now the one thing I covet above all else is that Natural title you hold and having come so close to attaining it I know it’s just a matter of time before that dream has become a reality. You know you had a lucky escape at Hog Heaven and once I’m finished with Crowe, I’ll be coming for you.
Now it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if the two of you had devised some sort of strategy between yourselves. An Alliance if you will. But you must remember that we British are renowned for our resourcefulness. Some believe patriotism to be the last refuge of a scoundrel but me, I believe it to be the last vestige of an enlightened gentlemen. Stay tuned RCW because come Sunday you might just see two more Neanderthals civilised.
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Post by Nate Sipes/The New Level on Aug 1, 2009 19:26:21 GMT -6
8/1/09
St. Charles, MO
************* [With one day to go and a big match in his immediate future, Nate Sipes makes his way to his hotel for the weekend: the Best Western of St. Charles. He’s driving a white Mustang rent-a-car on this day; driving through town to the hotel with Maya right beside him. She smiles and pats him on the shoulder as he continues his drive towards his destiny Sunday night.]Maya: So what’s on the agenda once we check in? More training?NS: No, not today. I’ll get a small work in tomorrow before the match. Have to build up a slight sweat by then. As for today, I have an interview scheduled with Melvin Gates.Maya: How hard are you going to lay into Alex after that last promo he did?NS: Not as hard as I’ll lay into him at the show tomorrow. He acts like he had this great master plan when he put the HERO mask on when he blindsided me. He says this and yet he forgets to mention the fact that he continued to lose with the mask almost as much as he does without it. If his ultimate goal when he became HERO was to come after me, you think he would’ve at least tried to win a few matches in that time. That way, people would take him seriously now. All he did was continue to prove that his career’s a joke and his hurt feelings will just get him another a**-kicking.Maya: Do you think that other moron, Jonathan Page, will show up or even appear on TV at all before tomorrow?[Nate, currently unaware about the recent promo that Page has done, just thinks for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.]NS: It’s hard to say. He’s built himself up so much that he had to have taken a big fall when he lost those three matches. Sure, he beat the Human Spider but, then again, who’s the Human Spider? Page believes that he’s God’s gift to wrestling and these losses have proven that idea false. For his sake, it better have been a wake up call.Maya: If he does cut a promo, what do you think he’ll say?NS: Well, if he grew a brain, he’d talk about how he was wrong when he said he was the best in RCW because that’s simply not true. He’d say how he’s dedicated for this match and how he’s a new man.[Both of them look at each other as they realize that that’s probably not true.]Maya: So what do you think he’d REALLY say?NS: The same thing he always says: he lost because of some mistake, he’s still the best around and he’ll easily beat me at SOHK. You’d figure that after already making that same mistake twice that he’d learn his lesson.Maya: Maybe he likes getting beat up by you?[Nate raises his right eyebrow as he thinks “that could be true.”]NS: Well, I did say he was delusional. He likes to visit this fantasy world and getting beaten up may be his way of winning.[Maya starts to laugh almost uncontrollably. She calms down enough to explain.]Maya: So, that means you’re facing two lunatics instead of one?[Maya continues to laugh as Nate’s face turns to a wide grin.]NS: Yeah, I guess so. I’ve got a British lunatic in one corner and an American one in the other.[Nate finds the Best Western and pulls into the parking lot. Both he and Maya exit the car; grabbing their bags out of the backseat. They proceed inside and to the front desk.][Nate hits the bell a few times and the clerk comes out from the back.]Clerk: Good afternoon.NS: Good afternoon. Reservation for Sipes?Clerk: Oh yes, Mr. Sipes. We have you in a suite on the second floor: Suite 6A.[The clerk hands Nate his keycard and Maya hers.]Clerk: I hope you enjoy your stay.NS: We certainly will.[Nate gives the clerk a final nod before heading with Maya up to their room. They reach the second floor with the elevator and walk down the hall until they find their room. They come to a halt in front of the door that reads “6A.” Nate opens the door with the keycard and sets his bag inside. Maya does the same and they embrace in the hallway. Nate eventually lets go so he can get a good look at the new love in his life.]NS: I’ll be back soon enough.Maya: What do you want to do after your interview?NS: There has to be a nice, little restaurant somewhere in town. Let’s go out for the night.Maya: Your “pure wrestling mentality” won’t mind?[Nate rolls his eyes as Maya hungrily smiles at him.]NS: After all of the build up, all of the work and all of the struggle, I need to crash tonight before I get focused again tomorrow.Maya: Sounds fine to me. How about if you meet me back here after your interview and then we’ll find somewhere to eat?NS: Works for me. I’ll see you later, Maya.Maya: ‘Bye, Nate. I love you.NS: I love you, too.[They lean in and kiss but Nate pulls back out after only a few moments and proceeds down the hallway. Maya just shrugs and closes the door behind her. Nate makes his way back through the entrance of the building and back into his car. He drives off to find the Family Arena. As he does, he thinks about his life heading into tomorrow night’s showdown.]~It’s hard to believe just how much Crowe has changed in just a year. He went from someone I considered a good friend to an egotistical loudmouth. He’s become more like Page than he would like to think. He refuses to see the truth, even when it sits right in front of him. He refuses to see that he’s just made a huge mistake; a misunderstanding. So, now he’s pushed it further than it should’ve gotten. No matter; I’ll prove the better man tomorrow. He’ll put up a great fight because that’s what he does but he just won’t come out on top. I just hope that when he does lose, he’ll succeed where Page has failed: that he isn’t better than me and that he’ll become even better because he realizes it. Great performance or not, Alex had better realize that winning and losing is what matters in the eyes of RCW brass and the RCW fans. If he wants to improve his appearance for both, he’d better work more on winning his matches and less coming up with excuses on why his life isn’t the way he hoped it would be.~[Nate soon finds the Family Arena and pulls into its parking lot. As he exits his rent-a-car, he stares up at the arena where his next big challenge will take place.][He closes his eyes and lifts his head high as he soaks it all in. After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes and proceeds inside of the arena. He soon makes his way to the center of the complex and notices the gladiator-esque setting: the many seats that will be filled; the carnage that will take place inside the squared circle; the difference between life and death, or winning and losing, once that bell rings. He also notices the distinguished, balding man with a microphone in his hand; standing next to the ring. Melvin Gates sees his guest for the day and cheerfully motions for Nate to join him. Nate does so and shakes Melvin’s hand as he approaches the ring.]MG: Glad you could make it, Nate.NS: No problem. I’m not about to turn down a Melvin Gates interview.MG: Well, thank you. So, I’m sure you’re ready to go, especially after that promo that Jonathan Page did just a few hours ago.[Nate looks confused a moment before asking…]NS: What promo would that be?MG: Here, let me show you.[Melvin motions for one of the crew members to roll a monitor over so that Nate can see it. They do this and toss in the tape of Page’s recent promo. Nate, although fully aware of what the tape probably contains, decides to wait and pass judgment until viewing it. He watches the first few moments and it soon becomes clear that nothing’s changed in Page’s demeanor. Nate reaches out and nonchalantly turns off the monitor. Confused, the crew member just wheels the monitor away. Melvin, equally confused, questions Nate about what just happened.]MG: What’s the matter?NS: Nothing, Melvin, but I’ve seen this exact, same, predictable, boring promo since I first faced him at the last Hog Heaven. I don’t need a constant reminder that he’s an idiotic aristocrat whose silver sthingy is so far up his a** that it’s scrambling his brain.[Melvin, shocked by the comment, shakes off the shiver that goes down his back. He quickly calms himself and signals for the crew to start filming. They do so and soon enough, Melvin’s logo appears on the monitor.]MG: Hello again, ladies and gentlemen. Melvin Gates here as we’re only 24 hours away from the biggest event in RCW history: School of Hard Knocks II! One of those marquee matchups is, of course, the 3 Way Dance for the Natural Title where Alex Crowe and Jonathan Page will challenge my guest at this time, the RCW Natural Champion Nate Sipes. Nate, with this event so very close from now, how are you feeling?[Nate wipes at his face before putting his hands on his hips. He looks off into the distance as he thinks about what to say. Soon, he lowers his head before finally responding.]NS: You know, Mel, it may be the long drive that I’ve just experienced today or it may be the lunacy that’s spilled out of the mouths of my opponents today but I feel a real sense of…anger. Anger at the fact that no matter how much I try to explain things to Alex Crowe, he sees no point in denying what half-truths and misconceptions he’s built for himself in his warped, little mind. Anger at the fact that no matter how many times I beat the hell out of Jonathan Page that he still doesn’t get the fact that he’s not as good as he believes himself to be. Anger at the fact that neither man truly takes me seriously.[Nate smiles and chuckles at this. However, this isn’t his usual smile but more of a demented, twisted smile. Coming from a man whose body of work has been built on pure wrestling, this sends another chill up Melvin’s spine.]NS: I guess this means that I’ve been too lenient; too nice; too soft in my approach. So, for this interview, I’m going to let it all hang out. I won’t take the high road because my opponents simply won’t allow it.MG: Does that mean you don’t agree with what Alex Crowe’s been saying?[Nate looks at Melvin with a look of “are you kidding.” Nate shakes his head as he responds.]NS: Of course, that’s what I’m saying, Mel.[Nate turns his attention to the camera and stares into it with a deep, piercing stare.]NS: Alex, you wanted me to be honest with you? Fine, I’ll be perfectly honest with you. Back when we fought the FOE, you WERE a friend and you WERE an ally but that will never happen again…for obvious reasons. The sneak attack being the most obvious but the fact that you’re a fool who’s too pomp and arrogant to look past your nose, let alone see any shred of truth being another. You don’t want to believe me then that’s your own problem; your sin among many sins. If you won’t accept my word as fact then I’ll have to beat the truth into you in this ring tomorrow.[Nate turns and points into the empty ring. He slowly turns back and continues his ice cold stare into the camera.]NS: You talk about being able to take an incredible beating, Alex, which is quite true. You’ve been beaten from pillar to post by many in RCW. From Brock Davids to Doug Gavelon to Havoc back when he was “H” and even to Jonathan Page when you were “HERO,” you’ve taken many beatings in your few, simple years here. In fact, there’s an animal that reminds me a lot of you, Crowe.[Nate looks off to the distance again; stroking his chin as he does so.]NS: Yes…yes, you’re the RCW equivalent…[Nate drops his hand back to his side as his eyes quickly dart back to the camera.]NS: …OF A FOOLISH LEMMING! A lemming, you see, is one of the most idiotic creatures in the natural world. They can come to a river and like any animal want to cross it. No matter how hard the rapids or sharp the rocks may be, they push on. And do you know what happens to them? They die. They die because they tried to push themselves beyond what they were capable of accomplishing. They kept trying and trying and trying to make it to that opposite riverbank until their little, rodent hearts couldn’t take it anymore.[Nate raises his right hand and points it squarely at the camera.]NS: That’s what you are, Alex: an idiotic rodent who tries to become something bigger in this world than you are even though you know that you don’t have the right or the ability to do so. Sure, you’ve been beaten senseless on countless occasions but those beatings were just the rapids and jagged rocks on your way to the other side. Now, now you’re this close…[Nate takes his index and thumb on the same hand and bring them very close together.]NS: …THIS…CLOSE…to reaching your goal. But tomorrow night, like any lemming…[Slowly, Nate takes his index finger and closes it; making a fist with his other four fingers; his thumb still out. He then slowly rotates his hand until it’s in the position of a “thumbs down.”]NS: …you’ll realize, but too late, that you’ve f*cked with Mother Nature just one time too many.[Nate holds the pose for a few moments until finally moving his right hand back to his side.]NS: You say that I can paint an interesting picture of the world at large when it’s you who’s the true artist in creating fantasy. You still see yourself as a God-like figure; saving the down-trodden Nate Sipes during his conflict with the FOE. Did you benefit the cause to end the FOE’s reign, Alex? Yes, you did. Would we and did we still succeed without you? You’d better believe that we did. We are sorry that you construed our not inviting you into Steel Cage Warfare as a sign of disrespect but a person can only apologize so many times to a brick wall before he starts believing that he should be owed an apology for wasting his time. Alex, at School of Hard Knocks, YOU will owe ME an apology for wasting your breath, my time and finally come to the realization that your quest is all for not. You’ll realize that all of the mistakes you’ve made and all of the bullsh*t you’ve spewed has finally come back to haunt you with the worst beating of your life.[Melvin, still in shock, finally manages to get out another question.]MG: What about Alex’s comments about his time as HERO was all part of a trap?[Nate lets out an almost evil laugh before responding.]NS: A trap? A master plan, Alex? To lose two matches and look like a fool in doing so just to come out and attack me? THAT is what you think constitutes a trap?[Nate, flashing his demonic smile once again, shakes his head in disagreement.]NS: If you do, then you’re even more diluted than that fool Jonathan Page. No, Alex, you’ve truly lost your mind if you consider wearing a mask for a month makes you a mastermind or something stupid like that. The truth is that you got lucky. You caught me at a moment of naivety; a moment of weakness. That, I assure you, will never happen again. If you were really intelligent, instead of coercing with Human Spider and pretending to be some superhero, you would’ve dedicated yourself harder to training to improve; to better yourself physically and mentally. Instead, you made a fool of yourself as you wandered the halls and probably said to yourself, “You know, I may still be losing a lot but it won’t matter because I’ll attack Nate Sipes soon and then all of my problems will be over.” That’s just it, Crowe: you’re attack just gave you an even bigger problem in an angry champion whose ready to destroy whatever comes between him and retaining his title. If you want to continue building yourself up as this mighty David then you’ll soon see history rewritten as this “Goliath” of a champion squashes you like the little, insignificant bug that you are.[Melvin raises his eyebrows in surprise as he looks to the camera.]MG: Turning your attention to your other opponent, a man that you’re quite familiar with, Jonathan Page.[Nate chuckles as he lowers his head; thinking about the idiotic rants that Page has conducted each and every time they’ve faced off.]NS: And so the British loudmouth finally speaks. And yet, his words are no different than before, his foolish hopes are no different than before and his chances of victory are no different than before. He, like Crowe, is already coming up with excuses on how I beat him the previous two times. “Oh, Crowe was a dirty, rotten scoundrel and it’s entirely his fault that I lost so I’m going to sulk in my mansion and p*ss on every butler that comes in my way even as they kiss my a**.”[After this comment, Nate’s demeanor turns back to serious.]NS: Page, from day one in this company, you’ve made the mistake of building yourself up higher than you really are. You claim to be this…[Nate stretches his arms way out and lifts his head to the sky.]NS: …LARGER THAN LIFE FIGURE…[Slowly, Nate lowers his head and brings his arms in together until his hands are almost together.]NS: …and yet…your results in the ring have been miniscule at best.[Nate puts his arms back to his side and focuses again on the camera.]NS: You still live in your own, little reality, Page; not a care in the world. Now, you’re even naïve enough to believe that the people and the boys in the back love you? And respect you? Hell, I even hear that you think you have fans. No, Page, the people will only cheer you and clap for you after you’ve been defeated, in fact, demoralized beyond all reproach tomorrow night. They’ll love you for having been shown as the fraud that you are. The boys will enjoy themselves and have a great laugh as they watch me beat you all up and down St. Charles, Missouri. Then, once that tear and that feeling of emptiness finally washes over you, the fans will truly compliment you with a chant worthy of someone of your stature… “Don’t…come…back.”NS: “Don’t come back,” Page, because you have no right to be in RCW. Go ahead and take the deal from your old friend. Go back and beat a bunch of lightweights in Britain because that’s the only way you’ll ever get over again. You want the Natural Title, Page, but you’ll never, ever have the honor and privilege of having it worn around your waist. Why? Because you and Alex Crowe were foolish enough to think that you could take it away from a man…such as Nate Sipes.[Nate shakes his head “no.”]NS: That’s an impossibility and both of you will find that out tomorrow.[Melvin, wiping the sweat away from his glistening forehead, decides it would be better if he ended the interview.]MG: Uh…well, fans, I guess that’ll be it for now. We’ll see you all tomorrow night from right here, in the Family Arena, for School of Hard Knocks II. Don’t miss it![The camera cuts and Melvin takes a handkerchief from his pocket and vigorously wipes down his face and head. Smiling, Nate pats Melvin on the shoulder and says…]NS: Thanks, Mel. It was fun.[As Melvin watches him, Nate makes his way out of the arena; laughing all the way. Nate’s laughter seems to echo through the arena as he finally walks through the front door. As the door closes behind him, the laughter ends. Nate now realizes that he must further focus his efforts if he’s to back up his words. He hops into his car and drives back to the Best Western. He parks the Mustang in the side parking lot; closer to his room. He makes his way through the door and up to the second floor. He walks back down the hallway and to room 6A. He uses his keycard and walks in; a look of wonderment on his face as he looks upon his new love whose ready for a night on the town.]Maya: Hey, Nate, are you ready to go?[Nate takes a long, deep sigh. The result being that Maya’s smile leaves her face.]NS: I think we should just call room service tonight and go out tomorrow.Maya: Why? What’s the matter?NS: Nothing. I think the trip may have taken a bit more out of me than I thought.Maya: Oh, I see.[Maya sits down on the bed and crosses her arms; her head burying itself into her chest. Nate walks over and softly lifts her head up to meet his eyes.]NS: Don’t worry. Tomorrow night, after I retain my title, we’ll go out all night and celebrate so hard that this town will never be the same.[Nate lets out a smile and Maya finally relents and responds with one of her own.]Maya: Well…okay. That should be fine.NS: Good. Now, I need a shower and then I’ll order us something good.[Nate takes his shirt off and proceeds into the bathroom; closing the door behind him. Maya buries her head back into her chest as she reaches up and takes off her earrings. She grasps them in her right hand, tosses them across her body and onto the other side of the bed.] |
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