Post by A.C. Smith on Jul 5, 2012 15:51:45 GMT -4
(Our scene opens following a gang of gunfighters on horseback. All are wearing black hats as they splash through a river. Old-school Western music kicks up, and we're greeted by a fast-talking narrator with a very deep voice.)
“In the west, there were empires, such as the great McCandles Ranch. But these empires were held together only by having enough men and guns.
While make-believe drama was on the movie screens, nine men crossed the Rio Bravo into Texas. The turbulent years between the Civil War and the turn of the century brought out the best in some people...but in others, it brought out the worst.”
(The cameras zoom in. Underneath the vests and black hats, we see that the members of the gang are wearing APW t-shirts representing participants in Test for the Best, despite bearing likenesses to the characters from the movie they're portraying. The narrator continues as the camera zeroes in on each rider.)
“Example: Keaton Saint. A half-breed Apache, born of a Cherokee mother and an Irish father. A professional gunfighter, one of the last of his kind.
John Dionysus. Rode with the James Boys in Kansas and Missouri. Said to have murdered more than a dozen men, one for as little as seven dollars.
Steve Stryker. A backshooter. Considered a coward. Reputed to have been a cavalry shooter.
Johnny Knuckles. Favors a shotgun for its bloody killing effect at short range.
Sally Talfourd. At age 14, she killed her first man, a buyer of her prostitute mother. Great shot with a rifle.
Chaz Dillinger, or 'Young Charlie.' Not quite 21. This raid was thought to have been his first outlaw act.
Mike Morrison, maybe the worst of them. An indiscriminate killer; women, children, no consequence at all. Prefers to work close, and favors a razor-edged machete.
Terry Marvin. Sometimes a peace officer and bounty hunter. Served with distinction in the Spanish-American War. Professional soldier thereafter, now between wars. Currently, robs banks and trains, leads killings, and is responsible for the infamous McCandles raid.”
(The gang rides to what we now see is a sprawling ranch. The house is immaculately-kept, and dozens of servants and ranch hands are doing their daily chores. A servant, played by Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch, confronts the group at the ranch's gates.)
'Terry': “A ranch sure is a deserted place during a roundup.”
Bobby: “Can I help you men?”
'Terry': “We heard you was hirin'.”
Bobby: “We was. You're late.”
(Naturally, 'Terry' doesn't take kindly to this.)
'Terry': “Too late?”
Bobby: “Afraid so.”
'Terry': “Now this place sure speaks of a great deal of money, don't it?”
Bobby: “Anything else I can do for you?”
'Terry': “The trouble with money, though, is that there's always someone who wants to take it away from you.”
Bobby: (annoyed) “I SAID, is there ANYTHING ELSE I can do for you?”
'Terry': “Ya know, that's the ONLY problem with it. And ain't that the bloody truth?”
(Suddenly, Terry pulls out a six-shooter and fires, killing Bobby. The gang scatters, with the horses kicking up dust and gunfire coming from every angle. When the dust settles, we see ten people, perhaps more, dead in the compound. There's no sign of the gang, but what we do see is a piece of paper on the front door, just over Bobby's dead body, with 'RANSOM' written in bold, red letters at the top. As we digest the scene, we fade to black.
A few moments later, we fade in on a dark, old-style hideout, and from a distance in a very wide shot, we see two men in the center of the screen on horseback. Slowly, several others in masks ride in behind one of them. As we switch to a low camera, we see that one of the men on horseback, wearing tan from head to toe, is A.C. Smith, and the other, wearing all black (including his hat), is the man who portrayed Terry Marvin in the first scene.)
'Terry': “The box.”
A.C.: “The contract.”
('Terry' snaps his fingers. One of the henchmen rides offscreen, and brings back a piece of paper with an APW letterhead on it, complete with a Shockwave logo and a blank signature space on the bottom.)
'Terry': “Satisfied?”
(Smith jumps off his horse, and puts both hands on his waist. Fleetingly, we see something come into his expression, and this doesn't escape our villain.)
'Terry': “I just saw something in your eyes I don't like. I saw a foolish thought. Now, you understand me. Anything happens, anything at all, your fault, my fault, nobody's fault...I'm going to tell my little brother to bury that contract somewhere. Simple as that. No matter who else gets killed, your chances at that belt die. You find the piece of paper? It don't matter. You already know about the rifle on you. It won't be as messy, but your chances'll be just as dead. You understand me?”
(A.C. nods, understanding the magnitude of the situation.)
'Terry': “Say it.”
A.C.: “I understand.”
'Terry': “Now open it up.”
(Instead of opening up a large red box at his feet, Smith throws 'Terry' some keys and pushes it over to him.)
A.C.: “That's the stuff dreams are made of.”
('Terry' opens the box, beaming, and sees not money, but newspaper clippings. He doesn't say a word, and ever so softly, we hear A.C. whisper, loud enough for only 'Terry' to hear.)
A.C.: “Now YOU understand. Anything goes wrong, anything at all, your fault, my fault, nobody's fault, it don't matter. I'm going to blow your head off. It's as simple as that. No matter what else happens, no matter who else gets killed, I'm going to blow YOUR head off.”
Henchman (offscreen): “Something wrong, Bobby?”
(We zoom in on our villain's face, which is stuck in a scowl at having the tables turned. He's quivering, but we don't get to see his response. Instead, the scene fades to black, and we see the same red text on a black background we saw earlier this week: It reads, 'Director's Cut.'
We fade in again, and we see A.C., clad in his cowboy attire, strolling around. It's well-lit this time; welcoming, serene, and far less tense than the scene we witnessed. Smith smirks as he tilts his head towards the camera, and he opens his mouth to speak.)
A.C.: “If you don't recognize the movie, I'm not shocked. 'Big Jake' isn't one of John Wayne's more recognizable movies. It's more well-known as the answer to the trivia question of, 'What was the last movie starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara?' That said, it's always been one of my favorites. It's a story of what happens when you piss off the wrong guy, one that says what happens when the bad guys think they hold all the cards, and one that says what happens when the good guy proves each and every one of them dead wrong.
I've been paying very close attention to what everyone's said so far about Test for the Best. And it seems just about everyone involved has the same read on me. 'Oh, good job getting this far. But you're not a threat to win.' As I said earlier this week, that perception doesn't bother me. Hell, the guy I portrayed in that last scene, Jacob McCandles, was thought to be dead by just about everyone he encountered. If it doesn't get to the Duke, it doesn't get to me. It just makes the part where I turn the tables on my doubters that much more sweet.”
(Smith takes off his hat, revealing his short, brown hair. He gently places it on a table, and pulls in a director's chair before sitting down behind it.)
A.C.: “John Dionysus says he learned from his mistake of discounting me last week. Keaton Saint says I've lost the element of surprise, and as a result, he has the upper hand on me from here to eternity. Steve Stryker says I'm not prepared simply because I didn't mention him earlier this week. Sally Talfourd says she has no idea who I am. Really, folks, is that all you've got? You guys think that just because you've been around APW longer than me, that it's going to just magically start working in your favor when you see me across the ring? News flash: I've been among the best wrestlers in the world for 10 years. And that fact isn't just going to go away this Sunday night in Chicago.
John Dionysus seemed to say all the right things earlier this week. But he said next to nothing about a potential meeting in the Test for the Best semifinals. In fact, a good 90% of his shpiel was pretty much a motivational pep talk to me leading up to my match against Terry Marvin. John, I get it. You want Marvin knocked out of this tournament in the most violent way possible. But be careful what you wish for. Because once I do that, you get me in the semi's. Provided, of course, that you're good enough to get past Keaton Saint and Steve Stryker, which is no easy task in its own right.
John, as good as you may be and as much respect as I have for you on a personal level, the facts are this. When last we met up, you had Keaton Saint as a partner. I had Terry Marvin, who spent part of the match, one he had no interest in winning, at the commentary table. It was a glorified handicap match, John, and yet it wasn't you and Keaton that won. It was me and Marvin, two guys who couldn't agree on anything beyond what to have for lunch. Now, speaking from a purely logical perspective, one I'm sure you appreciate if Terry Marvin's been the jerk to you that you say he is, if you couldn't beat me then, when you had every advantage in the book, what should make anyone think that this Sunday will be any different?
You need to get past two men in the quarters. If I were you, I'd focus on that as opposed to Terry Marvin. You do that too often, it'll cloud your better judgment. You get too focused on Marvin, who you may not even face, and it'll compromise your chances. I'm worried you've already done too much of that. You're certainly not doing yourself any favors at this point.”
(Smith goes under the table, retrieving an old-school bottle of whiskey and several shot glasses. He wipes the dust off the bottle with the palm of his right hand before unscrewing the top and gently splashing whiskey into each glass, one by one, as he continues.)
A.C.: “Then there's Keaton Saint. A man I pinned at Overdrive, but a man who thinks he's seen everything I bring to the table. And that's...just plain stupid. Since the moment I stepped into Action Packed Wrestling two months ago, I've stressed that I'm not the one-dimensional power wrestler that comes in, makes an impact, but becomes irrelevant when his competition outwrestles him. You don't last 10 years in this business without learning the intricacies of multiple ways to outlast people. I thought that was a given since Keaton Saint seemed to have common sense, but apparently that needed to be explained again.
The same question I asked John Dionysus also applies to you, Keaton. In fact, it applies moreso, because you didn't just lose that match. You were the opponent I pinned. And while I'm in cross-examination mode, let me ask you something else. You told me not to expect anything less than your best Sunday if we met in the semi's. That's fine and good. But that implies that I DIDN'T see your best in that tag match. A match that, if you had won, you'd have given yourself immeasurable momentum heading into the toughest quarterfinal match in the bracket, one where you need to fight with your head on a swivel. Think about it. What rational person, ready to take the next step and be a part of the main event at Shockwave against Kurt Noble for the APW Undisputed Championship, WOULDN'T go all-out and head into Test for the Best on a positive note?
Something about that doesn't quite add up, does it, Keaton? In fact, nothing at ALL added up in your little monologue about why this Sunday would be different than that tag match on Overdrive. You spent all your time looking for answers, and reaching for them when you found something, ANYTHING, that might give you a shred of your credibility back. I respect you as a person. I respect what you've done in APW, and I respect the way you carry yourself. But Keaton Saint, you're not thinking straight. If you honestly think I'm a one-trick pony, and if you honestly think that you've seen EVERYTHING the Big Apple Asskicker has to offer, you've got another thing coming. Because what you saw in those 15 minutes was only a small spec of what I've learned in a decade. You haven't seen ANYTHING yet. And one thing you CERTAINLY won't see Sunday is a scenario where you advance past me in the semifinals.”
(Smith closes up the whiskey bottle, and places it back under the table. His long arms extend as he moves the glasses around the circular table to its edges without actually getting up from his seat. Once the glasses are arranged to his liking, A.C. refocuses on the camera.)
A.C.: “Next on the list is Steve Stryker, who comprises the role of 'third wheel' in the triple threat match with John and Keaton. He got all sensitive over the fact that I didn't mention him earlier this week. Well, Steve, allow me to take the time to apologize for two things. One, that not bringing you up in my homage to 'Rudy' hurt your precious little feelings. And, two, for me bringing you up now having the exact same effect when you inevitably get angry, annoyed, and/or completely psyched out when you're next in front of an APW camera crew as a result.
Make no mistake, I don't want to undersell the Meltdown brand. It's a great vehicle, and APW's implementation of it was one of the biggest moments in wrestling this year. In fact, Steve, I go way back with a guy you might know: Evan Harrison...er, Envi. God, I hate saying that name. Anyway, we've known each other for about six years now, and because of that, I've kept a very close eye on Meltdown, and, by extension, you. And you know what? Something you said about yourself earlier today was dead-on. You're exactly right. I DON'T see you as a threat.
Why? Several reasons, actually. Because if you were worth something, anything, you'd have taken Evan's North American title by now. I know Evan. I've seen Evan. And that man is not right in the head right now, as I told him to his face several weeks ago when I dropped by a show in Greensboro, North Carolina. You've had your chances at glory, and you've made good on exactly...none of them. Because the last time we all saw you in the ring, it was against Johnny Rebel. You had a chance to make a huge impact, similar to the one I made in that tag match on Overdrive, but you blew your chance. Because in the midst of everything going on this week, because when you should have been focused on rebuilding yourself, getting yourself in prime physical and mental shape, you crossed me. Someone you have about a 1% chance of facing in the semifinals not because I won't beat Terry Marvin, but because you have barely a snowball's chance in hell of getting past John Dionysus and Keaton Saint in the quarters.
There. Does THAT satisfy your need for attention from me? Are you fully satisfied that I know every member of my side of the bracket? Truth be told, I don't really care. Because, as I've already stated, you're right. You're not a threat. You're a bug that needs to be squashed. Fortunately, while I don't trust John or Keaton to get past me, I'm wholly convinced that they'll do just fine taking you out of commission early on in the tournament. Hope someone's keeping your seat warm at that bar, Steve. Because when Test for the Best is over, and after you're finished gathering up all your teeth and getting stitched up by the doctors backstage, you're going to need to drown your sorrows before you get back to doing what you do best: Being just another guy lost in the shuffle.”
(These words came out of Smith's mouth with a ton of force, but Smith greets the ensuing silence with merely a shrug before moving on.)
A.C.: “But hey, at least Steve Stryker knows who I am. Sally Talfourd, from the Asylum brand, is taking the well-traveled 'ignorance is bliss' route. But hey, I guess I oughta be flattered since nobody else from Asylum has even so much as mentioned the biggest threat from Overdrive in this entire tournament. Unfortunately, that's about the only redeeming thing I'll say about Sally in these next few moments, because, like a lot of other people these past few weeks, she's written me off without a second thought.
Apparently, nobody besides Sally stands a chance at winning this tournament because we're not her. Well, that's a relief! I can save all this money I was going to spend on first-class plane tickets, bank what I usually spend at the bars after the events, and sit at home comfortably. In fact, all of us should do that, because in her own warped little world, Sally Talfourd's already won this tournament.”
(Smith rolls his eyes.)
A.C.: “I respect Sally Talfourd, her accomplishments, and what she wrestles for. Really, we've got a lot in common in terms of philosophy. But in this instance, she's full of crap. She's right in that it takes experience in high-profile settings to win these things. But she's not the only one that has that. I probably sound like a broken record, but I've been at this not for 10 minutes, not for 10 days, but for 10 years. If anyone knows what it's going to take to win this tournament and high-profile matches like it, it's me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. I'd have shriveled up after getting hit by a chandelier, or after getting beaten by Delikado. I wouldn't have won the Second Chance ladder match, or the tag match against John and Keaton, if I didn't have the experience to bounce back and get myself in peak form.
But I do, and I am. Sally, let me make something clear. I'm coming into this tournament in the best shape of my life. I don't hit women. But Sally, if we meet in the finals, I'm going to contain you better than anyone else ever has. Through my years with the NYPD, I know EXACTLY how to contain people. Pressure points. Isolation. Being able to slowly put you in a position where you can't win without so much as a punch or a kick. And rest assured, if it comes down to the two of us in the finals, I'm going to put EVERYTHING I know on full display.
Sally's not the only one from Asylum in Test for the Best, obviously. Also on the other side of the bracket are Johnny Knuckles, Chaz Dillinger, and Mike Morrison. Let's start with Knuckles, who seems more concerned over buying expensive Internet porn to use as elaborate psych-outs against Sally Talfourd to notice anything that matters, and for a guy who says actions speak louder than words and that nobody else's speech matters, he sure talks a lot and likes hearing the sound of his voice, no? Then there's Chaz Dillinger, who thinks he's some sort of model for the American dream. He's too concerned with his brand, being a poster-boy for Asylum without realizing that this tournament isn't laid out for him on a silver platter. Meanwhile, Mike Morrison is on the opposite end of the spectrum, concentrating on cutting Chaz's heart out and just...well, sounding creepy. His mind games don't work on me. I've dealt with REAL psychos, serial killers, pimps who make money selling drugged-out 16-year-olds. Someone playing the Mike Tyson 'I want to eat his children' card? Doesn't scare me one bit.
We've addressed everyone else at this point. And it brings us full-circle, back to where everything starts for me on Sunday.”
(The camera slowly starts zooming in. Gone is the analytical approach we've seen from Smith for most of the segment, and appearing is the notorious A.C. Smith glare, one that doesn't flinch as he begins to speak again.)
A.C.: “Terry Marvin. A man labeled by some as an odds-on favorite to win Test for the Best. A man with no ethics who'd gladly blow up the cars of every other participant in the tournament if it meant three forfeit wins for him and the title shot at Shockwave. He repulses me. He tried to wear me down at Overdrive. But he failed miserably, and what's coming at him this Sunday in the quarterfinals is something he will NEVER be prepared for.
Marvin thinks he's got all the answers. He's the best thing to ever happen to APW; just ask him. And while he's rambling, he'll probably tell you that HE was the reason our team beat John and Keaton a few weeks ago when he didn't give a damn about the match or anyone in it. And he's probably already paid for the big celebration party next week on Overdrive, where he tells all of us how good he is and how Kurt Noble's reign at the top is over.
But this Sunday, I continue one of the best runs of my career. This Sunday, I tear Terry Marvin limb from limb, even when nobody else thinks I can. This Sunday, I win three matches in one night, and punch my ticket to the main event at Shockwave.
And this Sunday, the Big Apple Asskicker shows EVERYONE what happens when you write off the wrong guy. Like Jacob McCandles, you all thought I was dead. My answer's the same as his.
'Not hardly.'”
(The camera zooms out again, and the set's crew, including Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch and Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker, are seated with glasses in their hands. The crew toasts, clinks the glasses in the air, and chugs the whiskey as the scene fades to black.)
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“In the west, there were empires, such as the great McCandles Ranch. But these empires were held together only by having enough men and guns.
While make-believe drama was on the movie screens, nine men crossed the Rio Bravo into Texas. The turbulent years between the Civil War and the turn of the century brought out the best in some people...but in others, it brought out the worst.”
(The cameras zoom in. Underneath the vests and black hats, we see that the members of the gang are wearing APW t-shirts representing participants in Test for the Best, despite bearing likenesses to the characters from the movie they're portraying. The narrator continues as the camera zeroes in on each rider.)
“Example: Keaton Saint. A half-breed Apache, born of a Cherokee mother and an Irish father. A professional gunfighter, one of the last of his kind.
John Dionysus. Rode with the James Boys in Kansas and Missouri. Said to have murdered more than a dozen men, one for as little as seven dollars.
Steve Stryker. A backshooter. Considered a coward. Reputed to have been a cavalry shooter.
Johnny Knuckles. Favors a shotgun for its bloody killing effect at short range.
Sally Talfourd. At age 14, she killed her first man, a buyer of her prostitute mother. Great shot with a rifle.
Chaz Dillinger, or 'Young Charlie.' Not quite 21. This raid was thought to have been his first outlaw act.
Mike Morrison, maybe the worst of them. An indiscriminate killer; women, children, no consequence at all. Prefers to work close, and favors a razor-edged machete.
Terry Marvin. Sometimes a peace officer and bounty hunter. Served with distinction in the Spanish-American War. Professional soldier thereafter, now between wars. Currently, robs banks and trains, leads killings, and is responsible for the infamous McCandles raid.”
(The gang rides to what we now see is a sprawling ranch. The house is immaculately-kept, and dozens of servants and ranch hands are doing their daily chores. A servant, played by Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch, confronts the group at the ranch's gates.)
'Terry': “A ranch sure is a deserted place during a roundup.”
Bobby: “Can I help you men?”
'Terry': “We heard you was hirin'.”
Bobby: “We was. You're late.”
(Naturally, 'Terry' doesn't take kindly to this.)
'Terry': “Too late?”
Bobby: “Afraid so.”
'Terry': “Now this place sure speaks of a great deal of money, don't it?”
Bobby: “Anything else I can do for you?”
'Terry': “The trouble with money, though, is that there's always someone who wants to take it away from you.”
Bobby: (annoyed) “I SAID, is there ANYTHING ELSE I can do for you?”
'Terry': “Ya know, that's the ONLY problem with it. And ain't that the bloody truth?”
(Suddenly, Terry pulls out a six-shooter and fires, killing Bobby. The gang scatters, with the horses kicking up dust and gunfire coming from every angle. When the dust settles, we see ten people, perhaps more, dead in the compound. There's no sign of the gang, but what we do see is a piece of paper on the front door, just over Bobby's dead body, with 'RANSOM' written in bold, red letters at the top. As we digest the scene, we fade to black.
A few moments later, we fade in on a dark, old-style hideout, and from a distance in a very wide shot, we see two men in the center of the screen on horseback. Slowly, several others in masks ride in behind one of them. As we switch to a low camera, we see that one of the men on horseback, wearing tan from head to toe, is A.C. Smith, and the other, wearing all black (including his hat), is the man who portrayed Terry Marvin in the first scene.)
'Terry': “The box.”
A.C.: “The contract.”
('Terry' snaps his fingers. One of the henchmen rides offscreen, and brings back a piece of paper with an APW letterhead on it, complete with a Shockwave logo and a blank signature space on the bottom.)
'Terry': “Satisfied?”
(Smith jumps off his horse, and puts both hands on his waist. Fleetingly, we see something come into his expression, and this doesn't escape our villain.)
'Terry': “I just saw something in your eyes I don't like. I saw a foolish thought. Now, you understand me. Anything happens, anything at all, your fault, my fault, nobody's fault...I'm going to tell my little brother to bury that contract somewhere. Simple as that. No matter who else gets killed, your chances at that belt die. You find the piece of paper? It don't matter. You already know about the rifle on you. It won't be as messy, but your chances'll be just as dead. You understand me?”
(A.C. nods, understanding the magnitude of the situation.)
'Terry': “Say it.”
A.C.: “I understand.”
'Terry': “Now open it up.”
(Instead of opening up a large red box at his feet, Smith throws 'Terry' some keys and pushes it over to him.)
A.C.: “That's the stuff dreams are made of.”
('Terry' opens the box, beaming, and sees not money, but newspaper clippings. He doesn't say a word, and ever so softly, we hear A.C. whisper, loud enough for only 'Terry' to hear.)
A.C.: “Now YOU understand. Anything goes wrong, anything at all, your fault, my fault, nobody's fault, it don't matter. I'm going to blow your head off. It's as simple as that. No matter what else happens, no matter who else gets killed, I'm going to blow YOUR head off.”
Henchman (offscreen): “Something wrong, Bobby?”
(We zoom in on our villain's face, which is stuck in a scowl at having the tables turned. He's quivering, but we don't get to see his response. Instead, the scene fades to black, and we see the same red text on a black background we saw earlier this week: It reads, 'Director's Cut.'
We fade in again, and we see A.C., clad in his cowboy attire, strolling around. It's well-lit this time; welcoming, serene, and far less tense than the scene we witnessed. Smith smirks as he tilts his head towards the camera, and he opens his mouth to speak.)
A.C.: “If you don't recognize the movie, I'm not shocked. 'Big Jake' isn't one of John Wayne's more recognizable movies. It's more well-known as the answer to the trivia question of, 'What was the last movie starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara?' That said, it's always been one of my favorites. It's a story of what happens when you piss off the wrong guy, one that says what happens when the bad guys think they hold all the cards, and one that says what happens when the good guy proves each and every one of them dead wrong.
I've been paying very close attention to what everyone's said so far about Test for the Best. And it seems just about everyone involved has the same read on me. 'Oh, good job getting this far. But you're not a threat to win.' As I said earlier this week, that perception doesn't bother me. Hell, the guy I portrayed in that last scene, Jacob McCandles, was thought to be dead by just about everyone he encountered. If it doesn't get to the Duke, it doesn't get to me. It just makes the part where I turn the tables on my doubters that much more sweet.”
(Smith takes off his hat, revealing his short, brown hair. He gently places it on a table, and pulls in a director's chair before sitting down behind it.)
A.C.: “John Dionysus says he learned from his mistake of discounting me last week. Keaton Saint says I've lost the element of surprise, and as a result, he has the upper hand on me from here to eternity. Steve Stryker says I'm not prepared simply because I didn't mention him earlier this week. Sally Talfourd says she has no idea who I am. Really, folks, is that all you've got? You guys think that just because you've been around APW longer than me, that it's going to just magically start working in your favor when you see me across the ring? News flash: I've been among the best wrestlers in the world for 10 years. And that fact isn't just going to go away this Sunday night in Chicago.
John Dionysus seemed to say all the right things earlier this week. But he said next to nothing about a potential meeting in the Test for the Best semifinals. In fact, a good 90% of his shpiel was pretty much a motivational pep talk to me leading up to my match against Terry Marvin. John, I get it. You want Marvin knocked out of this tournament in the most violent way possible. But be careful what you wish for. Because once I do that, you get me in the semi's. Provided, of course, that you're good enough to get past Keaton Saint and Steve Stryker, which is no easy task in its own right.
John, as good as you may be and as much respect as I have for you on a personal level, the facts are this. When last we met up, you had Keaton Saint as a partner. I had Terry Marvin, who spent part of the match, one he had no interest in winning, at the commentary table. It was a glorified handicap match, John, and yet it wasn't you and Keaton that won. It was me and Marvin, two guys who couldn't agree on anything beyond what to have for lunch. Now, speaking from a purely logical perspective, one I'm sure you appreciate if Terry Marvin's been the jerk to you that you say he is, if you couldn't beat me then, when you had every advantage in the book, what should make anyone think that this Sunday will be any different?
You need to get past two men in the quarters. If I were you, I'd focus on that as opposed to Terry Marvin. You do that too often, it'll cloud your better judgment. You get too focused on Marvin, who you may not even face, and it'll compromise your chances. I'm worried you've already done too much of that. You're certainly not doing yourself any favors at this point.”
(Smith goes under the table, retrieving an old-school bottle of whiskey and several shot glasses. He wipes the dust off the bottle with the palm of his right hand before unscrewing the top and gently splashing whiskey into each glass, one by one, as he continues.)
A.C.: “Then there's Keaton Saint. A man I pinned at Overdrive, but a man who thinks he's seen everything I bring to the table. And that's...just plain stupid. Since the moment I stepped into Action Packed Wrestling two months ago, I've stressed that I'm not the one-dimensional power wrestler that comes in, makes an impact, but becomes irrelevant when his competition outwrestles him. You don't last 10 years in this business without learning the intricacies of multiple ways to outlast people. I thought that was a given since Keaton Saint seemed to have common sense, but apparently that needed to be explained again.
The same question I asked John Dionysus also applies to you, Keaton. In fact, it applies moreso, because you didn't just lose that match. You were the opponent I pinned. And while I'm in cross-examination mode, let me ask you something else. You told me not to expect anything less than your best Sunday if we met in the semi's. That's fine and good. But that implies that I DIDN'T see your best in that tag match. A match that, if you had won, you'd have given yourself immeasurable momentum heading into the toughest quarterfinal match in the bracket, one where you need to fight with your head on a swivel. Think about it. What rational person, ready to take the next step and be a part of the main event at Shockwave against Kurt Noble for the APW Undisputed Championship, WOULDN'T go all-out and head into Test for the Best on a positive note?
Something about that doesn't quite add up, does it, Keaton? In fact, nothing at ALL added up in your little monologue about why this Sunday would be different than that tag match on Overdrive. You spent all your time looking for answers, and reaching for them when you found something, ANYTHING, that might give you a shred of your credibility back. I respect you as a person. I respect what you've done in APW, and I respect the way you carry yourself. But Keaton Saint, you're not thinking straight. If you honestly think I'm a one-trick pony, and if you honestly think that you've seen EVERYTHING the Big Apple Asskicker has to offer, you've got another thing coming. Because what you saw in those 15 minutes was only a small spec of what I've learned in a decade. You haven't seen ANYTHING yet. And one thing you CERTAINLY won't see Sunday is a scenario where you advance past me in the semifinals.”
(Smith closes up the whiskey bottle, and places it back under the table. His long arms extend as he moves the glasses around the circular table to its edges without actually getting up from his seat. Once the glasses are arranged to his liking, A.C. refocuses on the camera.)
A.C.: “Next on the list is Steve Stryker, who comprises the role of 'third wheel' in the triple threat match with John and Keaton. He got all sensitive over the fact that I didn't mention him earlier this week. Well, Steve, allow me to take the time to apologize for two things. One, that not bringing you up in my homage to 'Rudy' hurt your precious little feelings. And, two, for me bringing you up now having the exact same effect when you inevitably get angry, annoyed, and/or completely psyched out when you're next in front of an APW camera crew as a result.
Make no mistake, I don't want to undersell the Meltdown brand. It's a great vehicle, and APW's implementation of it was one of the biggest moments in wrestling this year. In fact, Steve, I go way back with a guy you might know: Evan Harrison...er, Envi. God, I hate saying that name. Anyway, we've known each other for about six years now, and because of that, I've kept a very close eye on Meltdown, and, by extension, you. And you know what? Something you said about yourself earlier today was dead-on. You're exactly right. I DON'T see you as a threat.
Why? Several reasons, actually. Because if you were worth something, anything, you'd have taken Evan's North American title by now. I know Evan. I've seen Evan. And that man is not right in the head right now, as I told him to his face several weeks ago when I dropped by a show in Greensboro, North Carolina. You've had your chances at glory, and you've made good on exactly...none of them. Because the last time we all saw you in the ring, it was against Johnny Rebel. You had a chance to make a huge impact, similar to the one I made in that tag match on Overdrive, but you blew your chance. Because in the midst of everything going on this week, because when you should have been focused on rebuilding yourself, getting yourself in prime physical and mental shape, you crossed me. Someone you have about a 1% chance of facing in the semifinals not because I won't beat Terry Marvin, but because you have barely a snowball's chance in hell of getting past John Dionysus and Keaton Saint in the quarters.
There. Does THAT satisfy your need for attention from me? Are you fully satisfied that I know every member of my side of the bracket? Truth be told, I don't really care. Because, as I've already stated, you're right. You're not a threat. You're a bug that needs to be squashed. Fortunately, while I don't trust John or Keaton to get past me, I'm wholly convinced that they'll do just fine taking you out of commission early on in the tournament. Hope someone's keeping your seat warm at that bar, Steve. Because when Test for the Best is over, and after you're finished gathering up all your teeth and getting stitched up by the doctors backstage, you're going to need to drown your sorrows before you get back to doing what you do best: Being just another guy lost in the shuffle.”
(These words came out of Smith's mouth with a ton of force, but Smith greets the ensuing silence with merely a shrug before moving on.)
A.C.: “But hey, at least Steve Stryker knows who I am. Sally Talfourd, from the Asylum brand, is taking the well-traveled 'ignorance is bliss' route. But hey, I guess I oughta be flattered since nobody else from Asylum has even so much as mentioned the biggest threat from Overdrive in this entire tournament. Unfortunately, that's about the only redeeming thing I'll say about Sally in these next few moments, because, like a lot of other people these past few weeks, she's written me off without a second thought.
Apparently, nobody besides Sally stands a chance at winning this tournament because we're not her. Well, that's a relief! I can save all this money I was going to spend on first-class plane tickets, bank what I usually spend at the bars after the events, and sit at home comfortably. In fact, all of us should do that, because in her own warped little world, Sally Talfourd's already won this tournament.”
(Smith rolls his eyes.)
A.C.: “I respect Sally Talfourd, her accomplishments, and what she wrestles for. Really, we've got a lot in common in terms of philosophy. But in this instance, she's full of crap. She's right in that it takes experience in high-profile settings to win these things. But she's not the only one that has that. I probably sound like a broken record, but I've been at this not for 10 minutes, not for 10 days, but for 10 years. If anyone knows what it's going to take to win this tournament and high-profile matches like it, it's me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. I'd have shriveled up after getting hit by a chandelier, or after getting beaten by Delikado. I wouldn't have won the Second Chance ladder match, or the tag match against John and Keaton, if I didn't have the experience to bounce back and get myself in peak form.
But I do, and I am. Sally, let me make something clear. I'm coming into this tournament in the best shape of my life. I don't hit women. But Sally, if we meet in the finals, I'm going to contain you better than anyone else ever has. Through my years with the NYPD, I know EXACTLY how to contain people. Pressure points. Isolation. Being able to slowly put you in a position where you can't win without so much as a punch or a kick. And rest assured, if it comes down to the two of us in the finals, I'm going to put EVERYTHING I know on full display.
Sally's not the only one from Asylum in Test for the Best, obviously. Also on the other side of the bracket are Johnny Knuckles, Chaz Dillinger, and Mike Morrison. Let's start with Knuckles, who seems more concerned over buying expensive Internet porn to use as elaborate psych-outs against Sally Talfourd to notice anything that matters, and for a guy who says actions speak louder than words and that nobody else's speech matters, he sure talks a lot and likes hearing the sound of his voice, no? Then there's Chaz Dillinger, who thinks he's some sort of model for the American dream. He's too concerned with his brand, being a poster-boy for Asylum without realizing that this tournament isn't laid out for him on a silver platter. Meanwhile, Mike Morrison is on the opposite end of the spectrum, concentrating on cutting Chaz's heart out and just...well, sounding creepy. His mind games don't work on me. I've dealt with REAL psychos, serial killers, pimps who make money selling drugged-out 16-year-olds. Someone playing the Mike Tyson 'I want to eat his children' card? Doesn't scare me one bit.
We've addressed everyone else at this point. And it brings us full-circle, back to where everything starts for me on Sunday.”
(The camera slowly starts zooming in. Gone is the analytical approach we've seen from Smith for most of the segment, and appearing is the notorious A.C. Smith glare, one that doesn't flinch as he begins to speak again.)
A.C.: “Terry Marvin. A man labeled by some as an odds-on favorite to win Test for the Best. A man with no ethics who'd gladly blow up the cars of every other participant in the tournament if it meant three forfeit wins for him and the title shot at Shockwave. He repulses me. He tried to wear me down at Overdrive. But he failed miserably, and what's coming at him this Sunday in the quarterfinals is something he will NEVER be prepared for.
Marvin thinks he's got all the answers. He's the best thing to ever happen to APW; just ask him. And while he's rambling, he'll probably tell you that HE was the reason our team beat John and Keaton a few weeks ago when he didn't give a damn about the match or anyone in it. And he's probably already paid for the big celebration party next week on Overdrive, where he tells all of us how good he is and how Kurt Noble's reign at the top is over.
But this Sunday, I continue one of the best runs of my career. This Sunday, I tear Terry Marvin limb from limb, even when nobody else thinks I can. This Sunday, I win three matches in one night, and punch my ticket to the main event at Shockwave.
And this Sunday, the Big Apple Asskicker shows EVERYONE what happens when you write off the wrong guy. Like Jacob McCandles, you all thought I was dead. My answer's the same as his.
'Not hardly.'”
(The camera zooms out again, and the set's crew, including Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch and Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker, are seated with glasses in their hands. The crew toasts, clinks the glasses in the air, and chugs the whiskey as the scene fades to black.)
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