Post by Nick Watson on Jun 20, 2012 14:51:15 GMT -4
*Airport, Philadelphia*
*A Few Days Ago*
Pence: Are you sure this is a good idea?
I had gone over this a thousand times in my head to make sure that this was the course that I wanted to take. Though I had my doubts, my conscious had told me to take this avenue and see where it led me. In my mind I was still doubting I could ever leave the hall of famer, Pence Weatherlight like this in Philly, but in my heart I knew that it was the only option I could take to grow. A tree after all can not grow properly in the shadow of another tree. I nodded my head firmly. If I was going to make it in this business I was going to need to use my heart more than ever now. The unthinkable had happened last week and Smith had climbed the ladder, but it was my fault that he had even got that far.
With all my training and all of my practicing I had over-estimated and over-valued my talent at that current time. My thoughts, my brain, and my physical attributes had all betrayed me and allowed him to walk up that ladder without any fight at all. There was no one to blame, but myself for the problems that I currently had, and the only way that I could fix these problems was to wing it on my own.
Nick: Yeah, I'm sure. I don't think I can do anything more with you training me. Its time for me to be a man and try to make it on my own.
Pence nodded at me reassuringly and patted me on the shoulder. I could see the concern in his eyes and knew that deep down he didn't want me to fly off to Cleveland by myself and deal with this alone, but he knew deep down I was right. I could tell he could see I had gotten over the thoughts of conspiracy, but he could see I still had doubts about myself as an athlete.
Pence: Hey, you're gonna be great, Nick. One day you will be the Main Eventer I know you are, but now is not that time. Just take your time, get a lay for what you are capable of, and when you feel most confident...take your chance.
One more pat on my shoulder and a handshake later I was on my way, I looked back once to see if Pence was watching, but he wasn't. Pence had completely disappeared, more than likely on his way to his own flight back to Hershey, and though I felt encouraged by Mr. Main Event, I already missed his company. The man was a legend, he was honorable, and was a true APW Hall of Famer, but most of all I considered him to be my friend. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I saw him and I also knew that if I ever needed his help, he would be there for me. So, taking a deep breath, and making my way over to the terminal, I began to think of my opponent on Thursday.
I had clashed with Harris before and had been cheated out of a victory. Over confidence had costed me then too, but this time I was ready for the vile creature that Harris was. I was prepped and ready for it. My research, my training, and my desire to win were all there, now all I had to do was utilize it all together to take the win for myself. No, scratch that, not for myself, for the people. The people had been disappointed in my three previous showings and I had silently swore to myself that I would not lose this match. I had already staggered too much already because of my stupid pride and I refused to stagger again. The people needed a confidence booster to cheer for me and I would provide that to them in the form of a decisive victory. Or hell, any victory for that matter!
Nick: Just gotta play my game and use all my talents to their fullest...I won't let another debacle like last week happen to me again.
Sure the better man had won and I was proud of Smith for taking a step in the right direction, but the loss still stung. I could be proud and sting a bit, right? Speaking of stinging, my back was killing me from where I had landed on it during the match, but I had been cleared by the doctors to compete. I would be fine by game time for sure, that was a promise, but for now a dull stinging emanated from my back and it caused me a bit of discomfort.
Clerk: Ticket please?
Nick: One second, let me get it out of my pocket.
Taking the bag that was slung around my shoulder off, I quickly reached into my pocket, and pulled out my ticket. The clerk grabbed my ticket, looked it over, and then nodded his head.
Clerk: Have a nice flight.
Nick: Thanks.
Re-slinging the bag over my shoulder, wincing a bit from using my back to move my body, I then began to walk through the terminal to the hall that led to the plane that would take me to my destination. I sighed, realizing that I had another coach seat with my name on it, it was all I could afford with my meager earnings from my matches on APW. If there was one more reason I needed a win it was so that I could actually earn reasonable cash. My contract gave me a bonus for winning matches, as most rookie contracts do, and my contract paled in comparison to some of the veteran stars that they had on roster. I felt my back and then turned to the camera man, nodding my head, and telling him to turn off the camera. After all, who wanted to see an hour or two of me squirming in a coach seat? If I didn't want to see that, then my fans sure as hell didn't want to see that. The camera man nodded and then turned off the feed as the scene burst to static.
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A Few Hours Later...
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*Cleveland*
Nick: Damn, that flight took a lot out of me.
The feed returns to me stretching and trying my best to get the kink out of my back which has been in nothing, but pain since I got on the flight. I look over to the camera man and let out a yawn as I look at my watch. I hadn't realized it was so late and as I reach in my pocket and pull out my wallet, I realize that I have not a nickle to my name left. With all my money going toward keeping the show alive and making trips to venues across the states right now, I have no money to rent a hotel room for the night to relax, and recuperate from the flight from hell. I let out a disappointed sigh as I put my wallet back in my pocket.
Nick: I have no money. Do you hear that fans? I'm dirt poor! This trip is so awesome for me so far!
I say comically as I shrug and begin to walk off into the distance of the Cleveland airport which is nearly deserted at this time of night. The thought occurs to me to sleep in one of those horrible airport seats that are inside, but the thought quickly is replaced by another thought. My stomach growls in protest at the fact that I have not eaten at all in the past six hours and the combination of thoughts in my head quickly overpower me and cause me to slowly slip into insanity. Just a typical Wednesday night for Nick Watson, ladies and gentlemen! I decide that the best way to ward off hunger and lack of sleep is to stay active and remembering that I am all alone is not helping. Or am I? I turn around to see my camera man following me and I realize that I have yet to even learn his name. He was a recent addition to the crew, a film school intern that I had hired to save me a quick buck, and he had done some amazing work on the show so far so why not learn his name?
Nick: So what is your name?
I ask kindly as the camera man looks around to see who I am talking to. It takes him a few seconds to guess I am trying to strike up a conversation with him, but he finally gets it.
Corey: Corey...Corey Aldeman.
I extend my hand to him and shake it, giving him a genuine smile.
Nick: Nice to be working with you on the show. Where do you come from Corey?
Corey: I come from...
Nick: Come on now, don't be nervous!
His pause lasts for all of ten seconds before he finally decides to spill the beans on camera.
Corey: Hartford, Connecticut. I lived there for most of my life before I decided I wanted to try film school. I did a few independent projects before signing on for an internship here. I hope by working with you that I will be able to sign a big time deal with a big time television studio or with APW.
Nick: See? Was that so hard? Come on man, don't be so afraid to talk! It livens the atmosphere up...I mean Jesus what is up with this airport? It is like a tomb in here!
My voice bounces all around the airport as if it were an auditorium before finally it goes silent again.
Corey: That could be because it is about one in the morning. Very few flights come into Cleveland over night.
Nick: Yeah, that's true I suppose. I guess this will be a good as place as any.
I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at Corey who is glancing at me in confusion. I point down at the cold marble floor and then to myself.
Nick: Sleeping right here tonight.
Corey: I don't think that is sanitary...
Nick: Have you seen the place I live in? This is much cleaner than that rat infested den I call a home. Besides, I have no money...I'm going to have to some how make it through till tomorrow without eating till I get to the free food bar on Overdrive. Man...I could really go for some damn finger sandwiches right now, I can tell you that.
As I say that I begin to kneel down on the floor and lay flat on my back. I stretch a bit and then look at Corey, who is shaking his head in disapproval, but none the less is accepting the fact that I have no other choice. I yawn and then point to Corey who is about to turn the camera off.
Nick: Good night, APW...seeya tomorrow.
The scene would then fade to black.
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Audio Log #2
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Nick: I've been a damn fool. Never has there been a man in professional wrestling as stupid or arrogant as I have been over the last few weeks. My performance over the course of these few weeks has been all my fault because of my over-estimation of my skills and for believing in some stupid conspiracy theories that I had concocted in my head. The truth is, these things have been holding me back, these theories and the over-confidence have all been making me believe I can do things that I'm just not good enough to do yet, but there is always time to change right? I guess I can start by at least making sure those things don't get in my way from this point forward, right? After all, I am the only one who can be held accountable for my actions. In that same boat, I am the only one who can pull myself out of this rut I am in and actually do something useful for a change and that is exactly what I intend to do this week.
Sure, this week I'm dealing with a pathological cheater, and I am no stranger to cheating at all. I have been cheated out of matches by low lives and I, myself, have cheated before I came here to APW and turned over a new leaf. But though I lost those matches at least I could take something from them, much like a normal loss, you can learn a lot through a match that has been stolen from you, and to be fair...I've learned a lot over my years in wrestling by losing. These things I learn help me move forward through experience, be it by learning new things, or by learning how not to be caught on the losing side of a "surprise" maneuver. I've lost numerous matches, but none have stung me more than my first loss to Michael Harris. Did you think I forgot, buddy? It is still fresh in my mind when you, using underhanded tactic, pulled out a squeaker, and walked away like you had earned something when nothing farther could be from the truth.
Do I hold a grudge against you because of that? No. I'm not as childish or as pathetic as you are to hold a grudge, no, the only thing I hold for you is pity. I pity that you will never get any better, I pity that you still believe you are the best when you have done nothing at all to deserve that title, and I pity you most of all for your delusional state of mind. I mean out of all the things that have happened over the course of the past few months, you have continued to march forward with your beliefs. I could respect you for that if it wasn't just blissful ignorance.
Honestly, it is regrettable that you have not learned a damn thing from your losses, but I guess that is to be expected from a man who is nothing more than a bully. You see Harris, much like a bully, you don't realize what you're doing is getting you no where, and thus you are doomed to make the same mistake multiple times over. Its why you didn't beat him and by him I mean Dionysus. You see he has you read and how can't he!? You broadcast your intent in the most obvious of ways. Its why you're sitting here with me, out of test, and out of luck, but the difference between me and you is that I can make adjustments to myself because I accept that I am flawed just like everyone else.
You just can't accept that however. Your pride and arrogance can't allow that. It would be too much to show humility or accept that you're behind the curb, oh no, that would kill ya! That would make you just as low as me, right? Or as pathetic as the people you jeer at every night or as imperfect as you really are. You see, admitting you aren't ready for the big time would reveal that you're normal, but you want to be extraordinary, not normal. But you aren't extraordinary, are you? Sure you advanced farther in the tourny than I did and you had a nice run for a few months, but your run ended, just as abruptly as your chances at being number one contender did. And what were you left with? Nothing. No surprise because that is what you are without all of the bravado and the cheating.
Of course because of all of these things it is safe to assume that you just can't cut it either. Sure, you can beat people who buy into the hype that you have generated for yourself, hell you did it to me as well when I was newer, but after the initial shock and awe, we get to see what you really are underneath. You are just a green as I am, but in the end we are different in so many ways because at least I can admit I'm weak and I need to train to get better. I realize the need for hard work to prove my worth to this company, but you are looking for the easy way to the big time, but each time you get the chance to take that easy way you fall apart. I could compare you to a bomb I suppose because when you do go off you are felt on the other side of the world, but when you don't, what happens, Harris?
Well to put it kindly, nothing happens, and in the end the world is a better place because of it. So I guess since we are still in analogy mode I will compare myself to a bomb removal squad, making sure that you don't hit the big time, will be my greatest success to say the least. You see, much like disarming a bomb, there is a certain way to do it, and your bomb is going to be as easy as a walk in a park to take a part. That is due in part to you being quite predictable though. Harris, there is no flash, innovation, and no technique in the way you operate in a match. You are going to come at me and try to either cheat, or injure me. Personally far better men have tried to injure me and have failed so that only leaves cheating and to be honest, that's not going to happen again. And once those two plans are excercised and effectively countered there is nothing left to you. You couldn't beat John either time you fought him because he read you like a book and then countered your two plans and then when you had nothing left, he walked all over you. The same can be said last week when you had steep competition and fumbled your chances again. No surprise there! This is all sad, but at the same time is so true it hurts.
And even more sad is you know that this is the problem you have, but you can't fix it. Your approach, your style, and your overall psychology dictate that you stay the course, no matter how stupid it is. I would compare this to repeatedly slamming one's head against a wall hoping for different results every time. Yet the results are always the same aren't they? Sure every once and a while you will catch a lucky break and surprise someone, but most of the time you embarrassingly fall to pieces in the ring, and lose. That is because no matter how many times you repeat your stupid approach to wrestling, you will never get any better. You can only get better through innovation, training, and dedication to improvement, three things that you will never do or be able to do. Its your mentality that handicaps you and forces you to be subliminally insignificant, so by default you force yourself into a little ball unable to advance any further than you are now. But, what would I know right?
I'm just a rookie and not even a good one, right? My past losses make my argument against you seem petty, right? You probably won't even take a thing I'm saying to be true in the slightest, but it won't stop me from saying it. But then again, even if I was the brightest star in APW you probably wouldn't take my advice because that is just who you are. Any constructive criticism or helpful advice is simply mute with you and that is because you lack the intelligence to put two and two together to get four. You don't listen to anyone, after all you are big, bad Michael Harris, the king of mediocrity.
Better than everyone, but not really better than anyone! Hypocritical, weak minded, and ignorant, you constantly disappoint, but that is fine. Instead of being a big star you have instead chosen to be mediocre with no exposure. Lets face it Harris, if you changed who you are, you might land in the limelight and that would only reveal your deep seated issues wouldn't it? Issues which will not be going anywhere any time soon. So maybe it is better this way with you not succeeding. Because if you became a champion what exactly would you bring to the table? Besides ignorance, arrogance, and lack of skill what exactly qualifies you to be a champion anyway?
The answer is nothing and that answer is as simple as you are bland. So lets finish this shall we? Its over. The fans know it, I know it, and management knows it. Your championship aspirations, your goals, and your boring personality are no longer in the spotlight, but your response to that problem for you doesn't really matter at all because in the end no matter what you do nothing will change. You had your shot and blew it, three times now, and now you are more than likely going to come into this blaming everyone but yourself for your big loss and try to make it seem like you are not even as close to as insignificant as you really are. But we know the truth. We know that you thinking you are the best is nothing more than a cover to try and hide underneath and we know that much like your championship aspirations your plans are short sighted and pointless.
So in the end we have Overdrive, the show that I call home, and that the fans enjoy greatly regardless of the seedy underbelly it has. It is a show that you have done little to nothing for or have even tried to make better, it is a show that you have jeered at, and have, at every waking second of your career, made management regret signing you. You're obnoxious and this Thursday...I'm ending you. I'm ending your delusions, I'm putting them to rest, because to be quite frank you are no where near BETTER THAN ME and I am going to prove that to the world in one quick sweep. So get ready because after Overdrive this week, you won't be wondering when your next shot at a title will be, but whether or not you should keep on competing in the first place. To my fans, I wish you all a happy Wednesday. Have fun, Michael, because this Thursday...I'm going to show you why I'm called the Sensational One.
*Scene Bursts to Static*
*A Few Days Ago*
Pence: Are you sure this is a good idea?
I had gone over this a thousand times in my head to make sure that this was the course that I wanted to take. Though I had my doubts, my conscious had told me to take this avenue and see where it led me. In my mind I was still doubting I could ever leave the hall of famer, Pence Weatherlight like this in Philly, but in my heart I knew that it was the only option I could take to grow. A tree after all can not grow properly in the shadow of another tree. I nodded my head firmly. If I was going to make it in this business I was going to need to use my heart more than ever now. The unthinkable had happened last week and Smith had climbed the ladder, but it was my fault that he had even got that far.
With all my training and all of my practicing I had over-estimated and over-valued my talent at that current time. My thoughts, my brain, and my physical attributes had all betrayed me and allowed him to walk up that ladder without any fight at all. There was no one to blame, but myself for the problems that I currently had, and the only way that I could fix these problems was to wing it on my own.
Nick: Yeah, I'm sure. I don't think I can do anything more with you training me. Its time for me to be a man and try to make it on my own.
Pence nodded at me reassuringly and patted me on the shoulder. I could see the concern in his eyes and knew that deep down he didn't want me to fly off to Cleveland by myself and deal with this alone, but he knew deep down I was right. I could tell he could see I had gotten over the thoughts of conspiracy, but he could see I still had doubts about myself as an athlete.
Pence: Hey, you're gonna be great, Nick. One day you will be the Main Eventer I know you are, but now is not that time. Just take your time, get a lay for what you are capable of, and when you feel most confident...take your chance.
One more pat on my shoulder and a handshake later I was on my way, I looked back once to see if Pence was watching, but he wasn't. Pence had completely disappeared, more than likely on his way to his own flight back to Hershey, and though I felt encouraged by Mr. Main Event, I already missed his company. The man was a legend, he was honorable, and was a true APW Hall of Famer, but most of all I considered him to be my friend. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I saw him and I also knew that if I ever needed his help, he would be there for me. So, taking a deep breath, and making my way over to the terminal, I began to think of my opponent on Thursday.
I had clashed with Harris before and had been cheated out of a victory. Over confidence had costed me then too, but this time I was ready for the vile creature that Harris was. I was prepped and ready for it. My research, my training, and my desire to win were all there, now all I had to do was utilize it all together to take the win for myself. No, scratch that, not for myself, for the people. The people had been disappointed in my three previous showings and I had silently swore to myself that I would not lose this match. I had already staggered too much already because of my stupid pride and I refused to stagger again. The people needed a confidence booster to cheer for me and I would provide that to them in the form of a decisive victory. Or hell, any victory for that matter!
Nick: Just gotta play my game and use all my talents to their fullest...I won't let another debacle like last week happen to me again.
Sure the better man had won and I was proud of Smith for taking a step in the right direction, but the loss still stung. I could be proud and sting a bit, right? Speaking of stinging, my back was killing me from where I had landed on it during the match, but I had been cleared by the doctors to compete. I would be fine by game time for sure, that was a promise, but for now a dull stinging emanated from my back and it caused me a bit of discomfort.
Clerk: Ticket please?
Nick: One second, let me get it out of my pocket.
Taking the bag that was slung around my shoulder off, I quickly reached into my pocket, and pulled out my ticket. The clerk grabbed my ticket, looked it over, and then nodded his head.
Clerk: Have a nice flight.
Nick: Thanks.
Re-slinging the bag over my shoulder, wincing a bit from using my back to move my body, I then began to walk through the terminal to the hall that led to the plane that would take me to my destination. I sighed, realizing that I had another coach seat with my name on it, it was all I could afford with my meager earnings from my matches on APW. If there was one more reason I needed a win it was so that I could actually earn reasonable cash. My contract gave me a bonus for winning matches, as most rookie contracts do, and my contract paled in comparison to some of the veteran stars that they had on roster. I felt my back and then turned to the camera man, nodding my head, and telling him to turn off the camera. After all, who wanted to see an hour or two of me squirming in a coach seat? If I didn't want to see that, then my fans sure as hell didn't want to see that. The camera man nodded and then turned off the feed as the scene burst to static.
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A Few Hours Later...
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*Cleveland*
Nick: Damn, that flight took a lot out of me.
The feed returns to me stretching and trying my best to get the kink out of my back which has been in nothing, but pain since I got on the flight. I look over to the camera man and let out a yawn as I look at my watch. I hadn't realized it was so late and as I reach in my pocket and pull out my wallet, I realize that I have not a nickle to my name left. With all my money going toward keeping the show alive and making trips to venues across the states right now, I have no money to rent a hotel room for the night to relax, and recuperate from the flight from hell. I let out a disappointed sigh as I put my wallet back in my pocket.
Nick: I have no money. Do you hear that fans? I'm dirt poor! This trip is so awesome for me so far!
I say comically as I shrug and begin to walk off into the distance of the Cleveland airport which is nearly deserted at this time of night. The thought occurs to me to sleep in one of those horrible airport seats that are inside, but the thought quickly is replaced by another thought. My stomach growls in protest at the fact that I have not eaten at all in the past six hours and the combination of thoughts in my head quickly overpower me and cause me to slowly slip into insanity. Just a typical Wednesday night for Nick Watson, ladies and gentlemen! I decide that the best way to ward off hunger and lack of sleep is to stay active and remembering that I am all alone is not helping. Or am I? I turn around to see my camera man following me and I realize that I have yet to even learn his name. He was a recent addition to the crew, a film school intern that I had hired to save me a quick buck, and he had done some amazing work on the show so far so why not learn his name?
Nick: So what is your name?
I ask kindly as the camera man looks around to see who I am talking to. It takes him a few seconds to guess I am trying to strike up a conversation with him, but he finally gets it.
Corey: Corey...Corey Aldeman.
I extend my hand to him and shake it, giving him a genuine smile.
Nick: Nice to be working with you on the show. Where do you come from Corey?
Corey: I come from...
Nick: Come on now, don't be nervous!
His pause lasts for all of ten seconds before he finally decides to spill the beans on camera.
Corey: Hartford, Connecticut. I lived there for most of my life before I decided I wanted to try film school. I did a few independent projects before signing on for an internship here. I hope by working with you that I will be able to sign a big time deal with a big time television studio or with APW.
Nick: See? Was that so hard? Come on man, don't be so afraid to talk! It livens the atmosphere up...I mean Jesus what is up with this airport? It is like a tomb in here!
My voice bounces all around the airport as if it were an auditorium before finally it goes silent again.
Corey: That could be because it is about one in the morning. Very few flights come into Cleveland over night.
Nick: Yeah, that's true I suppose. I guess this will be a good as place as any.
I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at Corey who is glancing at me in confusion. I point down at the cold marble floor and then to myself.
Nick: Sleeping right here tonight.
Corey: I don't think that is sanitary...
Nick: Have you seen the place I live in? This is much cleaner than that rat infested den I call a home. Besides, I have no money...I'm going to have to some how make it through till tomorrow without eating till I get to the free food bar on Overdrive. Man...I could really go for some damn finger sandwiches right now, I can tell you that.
As I say that I begin to kneel down on the floor and lay flat on my back. I stretch a bit and then look at Corey, who is shaking his head in disapproval, but none the less is accepting the fact that I have no other choice. I yawn and then point to Corey who is about to turn the camera off.
Nick: Good night, APW...seeya tomorrow.
The scene would then fade to black.
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Audio Log #2
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Nick: I've been a damn fool. Never has there been a man in professional wrestling as stupid or arrogant as I have been over the last few weeks. My performance over the course of these few weeks has been all my fault because of my over-estimation of my skills and for believing in some stupid conspiracy theories that I had concocted in my head. The truth is, these things have been holding me back, these theories and the over-confidence have all been making me believe I can do things that I'm just not good enough to do yet, but there is always time to change right? I guess I can start by at least making sure those things don't get in my way from this point forward, right? After all, I am the only one who can be held accountable for my actions. In that same boat, I am the only one who can pull myself out of this rut I am in and actually do something useful for a change and that is exactly what I intend to do this week.
Sure, this week I'm dealing with a pathological cheater, and I am no stranger to cheating at all. I have been cheated out of matches by low lives and I, myself, have cheated before I came here to APW and turned over a new leaf. But though I lost those matches at least I could take something from them, much like a normal loss, you can learn a lot through a match that has been stolen from you, and to be fair...I've learned a lot over my years in wrestling by losing. These things I learn help me move forward through experience, be it by learning new things, or by learning how not to be caught on the losing side of a "surprise" maneuver. I've lost numerous matches, but none have stung me more than my first loss to Michael Harris. Did you think I forgot, buddy? It is still fresh in my mind when you, using underhanded tactic, pulled out a squeaker, and walked away like you had earned something when nothing farther could be from the truth.
Do I hold a grudge against you because of that? No. I'm not as childish or as pathetic as you are to hold a grudge, no, the only thing I hold for you is pity. I pity that you will never get any better, I pity that you still believe you are the best when you have done nothing at all to deserve that title, and I pity you most of all for your delusional state of mind. I mean out of all the things that have happened over the course of the past few months, you have continued to march forward with your beliefs. I could respect you for that if it wasn't just blissful ignorance.
Honestly, it is regrettable that you have not learned a damn thing from your losses, but I guess that is to be expected from a man who is nothing more than a bully. You see Harris, much like a bully, you don't realize what you're doing is getting you no where, and thus you are doomed to make the same mistake multiple times over. Its why you didn't beat him and by him I mean Dionysus. You see he has you read and how can't he!? You broadcast your intent in the most obvious of ways. Its why you're sitting here with me, out of test, and out of luck, but the difference between me and you is that I can make adjustments to myself because I accept that I am flawed just like everyone else.
You just can't accept that however. Your pride and arrogance can't allow that. It would be too much to show humility or accept that you're behind the curb, oh no, that would kill ya! That would make you just as low as me, right? Or as pathetic as the people you jeer at every night or as imperfect as you really are. You see, admitting you aren't ready for the big time would reveal that you're normal, but you want to be extraordinary, not normal. But you aren't extraordinary, are you? Sure you advanced farther in the tourny than I did and you had a nice run for a few months, but your run ended, just as abruptly as your chances at being number one contender did. And what were you left with? Nothing. No surprise because that is what you are without all of the bravado and the cheating.
Of course because of all of these things it is safe to assume that you just can't cut it either. Sure, you can beat people who buy into the hype that you have generated for yourself, hell you did it to me as well when I was newer, but after the initial shock and awe, we get to see what you really are underneath. You are just a green as I am, but in the end we are different in so many ways because at least I can admit I'm weak and I need to train to get better. I realize the need for hard work to prove my worth to this company, but you are looking for the easy way to the big time, but each time you get the chance to take that easy way you fall apart. I could compare you to a bomb I suppose because when you do go off you are felt on the other side of the world, but when you don't, what happens, Harris?
Well to put it kindly, nothing happens, and in the end the world is a better place because of it. So I guess since we are still in analogy mode I will compare myself to a bomb removal squad, making sure that you don't hit the big time, will be my greatest success to say the least. You see, much like disarming a bomb, there is a certain way to do it, and your bomb is going to be as easy as a walk in a park to take a part. That is due in part to you being quite predictable though. Harris, there is no flash, innovation, and no technique in the way you operate in a match. You are going to come at me and try to either cheat, or injure me. Personally far better men have tried to injure me and have failed so that only leaves cheating and to be honest, that's not going to happen again. And once those two plans are excercised and effectively countered there is nothing left to you. You couldn't beat John either time you fought him because he read you like a book and then countered your two plans and then when you had nothing left, he walked all over you. The same can be said last week when you had steep competition and fumbled your chances again. No surprise there! This is all sad, but at the same time is so true it hurts.
And even more sad is you know that this is the problem you have, but you can't fix it. Your approach, your style, and your overall psychology dictate that you stay the course, no matter how stupid it is. I would compare this to repeatedly slamming one's head against a wall hoping for different results every time. Yet the results are always the same aren't they? Sure every once and a while you will catch a lucky break and surprise someone, but most of the time you embarrassingly fall to pieces in the ring, and lose. That is because no matter how many times you repeat your stupid approach to wrestling, you will never get any better. You can only get better through innovation, training, and dedication to improvement, three things that you will never do or be able to do. Its your mentality that handicaps you and forces you to be subliminally insignificant, so by default you force yourself into a little ball unable to advance any further than you are now. But, what would I know right?
I'm just a rookie and not even a good one, right? My past losses make my argument against you seem petty, right? You probably won't even take a thing I'm saying to be true in the slightest, but it won't stop me from saying it. But then again, even if I was the brightest star in APW you probably wouldn't take my advice because that is just who you are. Any constructive criticism or helpful advice is simply mute with you and that is because you lack the intelligence to put two and two together to get four. You don't listen to anyone, after all you are big, bad Michael Harris, the king of mediocrity.
Better than everyone, but not really better than anyone! Hypocritical, weak minded, and ignorant, you constantly disappoint, but that is fine. Instead of being a big star you have instead chosen to be mediocre with no exposure. Lets face it Harris, if you changed who you are, you might land in the limelight and that would only reveal your deep seated issues wouldn't it? Issues which will not be going anywhere any time soon. So maybe it is better this way with you not succeeding. Because if you became a champion what exactly would you bring to the table? Besides ignorance, arrogance, and lack of skill what exactly qualifies you to be a champion anyway?
The answer is nothing and that answer is as simple as you are bland. So lets finish this shall we? Its over. The fans know it, I know it, and management knows it. Your championship aspirations, your goals, and your boring personality are no longer in the spotlight, but your response to that problem for you doesn't really matter at all because in the end no matter what you do nothing will change. You had your shot and blew it, three times now, and now you are more than likely going to come into this blaming everyone but yourself for your big loss and try to make it seem like you are not even as close to as insignificant as you really are. But we know the truth. We know that you thinking you are the best is nothing more than a cover to try and hide underneath and we know that much like your championship aspirations your plans are short sighted and pointless.
So in the end we have Overdrive, the show that I call home, and that the fans enjoy greatly regardless of the seedy underbelly it has. It is a show that you have done little to nothing for or have even tried to make better, it is a show that you have jeered at, and have, at every waking second of your career, made management regret signing you. You're obnoxious and this Thursday...I'm ending you. I'm ending your delusions, I'm putting them to rest, because to be quite frank you are no where near BETTER THAN ME and I am going to prove that to the world in one quick sweep. So get ready because after Overdrive this week, you won't be wondering when your next shot at a title will be, but whether or not you should keep on competing in the first place. To my fans, I wish you all a happy Wednesday. Have fun, Michael, because this Thursday...I'm going to show you why I'm called the Sensational One.
*Scene Bursts to Static*
