Post by Phil Atken on Jul 14, 2012 15:06:42 GMT -4
Voice: I suppose you could argue that truth is in the eye of the beholder. You could also argue that's a lot of old pish. I wonder what side you think that I fall on?
The voice heard espousing such words belonged to one man and one man alone. That sole man (not to be confused with a Soul Man, something completely different) stood by his lonesome in a vacant room. He wore no clothes about from all the clothes he was wearing. That man was Phil Atken and it seemed that he had something on his mind grapes that was ready to be squeezed out.
It had seemed that Phil had heard Sykes recent comments to the APW faithful and from all reports, he was less than delighted at what he had to say. Most reports actually featured the word “disappointed” which is astounding because no one was sure Phil Atken was even capable of such an emotion.
Phil stood bolt upright in front of the camera, has hands clasped together like a game show host ready to introduce the next round.
Atken: You know, I heard Johnny “The Johnman” Sykes called me and I quote “a doodie head” and you know what, that just will not stand. I look forward to proving that it is not I who is the doodie head but rather it is he who is the doodie head by doodieing on his head on the upcoming edition of Asylum. That'll show him a thing or two about a thing or two.
Phil give a little snort and a satisfied smile to boot.
Atken: You see Johnny JoeJoe, we can all pretend people said something. I could make up shit about things you've said for day. Hell, I could call my friends in the tabloid business and say I have it on good authority that you called dear old Reggie a racist slur. Now that wouldn't make sense for a multitude of reasons but hey, I said it on the record so it must be true! Next thing you know everyone is talking about that racist old Sykes boy. The same he brought to his mother and family, a noble line of activists in the fight for racial equality.
Phil tilts his head slightly and looks into the camera.
Atken: Do you understand what I'm getting at young master Jonathan? None of what I just said is true but it turns out if you say it with enough authority, people start to believe it. Hell, if I keep saying you're a no good racist and only play pranks on what you call “the black people” maybe I'll start to believe it myself. It's almost working! I can't believe I've been booked in a match with a no good racist rascal on Sunday! How very dare this company we call APW force me to face him! It's practically against my human rights!
Phil straightens himself up once more, chuckling to himself as he does so.
Atken: Nobody likes word put in their mouth Johnny. Least of all a credible journalist like myself. I deal in fact Sykesy, I have a chat show dedicated to getting the “COLD. HARD. TRUTH.” from all manner of APW superstars and superstarettes. I then take that truth into my dark room, exposing it under a harsh light. Did you think I wouldn't notice when you started to lie about me? Did you think I was just going to pretend you didn't slander me? I've been flapping my gums about you being beneath me? Really. I never knew that and you think I would know what I have said about you better than you would. After all, I am me. I would know the sorts of things that me says. And me, me didn't say that.
Atken stops in his tracks and allows his brain to process the thoughts that he had just uttered. Phil clears his throat and trying to re-rail his train of thought.
Atken: Sorry, we all have a brain fart now and again. Let me make this explicitly clear though. Johnny, you are not beneath me, in fact, I'm taking you very seriously. We're both out to destroy each other, I think we both know that. However, I'm the one on the side of the good and the great here. I'm the one standing up for those you prey on. I'm going in to this match carrying the flag of all your prankees, the people you mess around without a second though. I'm in it for me too, after all, I'm not an idiot.
Phil gives a little bit of a weary smile before he continues.
Atken: Before you opened that great gaping maw that you call a mouth, I actually had a lot of sympathy for you Johnny. I could see and sense your frustration at Test for the Best, I mean I know better than most in this company what it feels like to see your future crumble in front of you. It hurts to go from the hot young stud with a lot to prove and the talent to back it up only to find yourself mere moments later scratching and clawing your way back up, trying to find that small morsel of relevancy. In that long battle up to the top it doesn't hurt to paint yourself as the plucky underdog going up against the evil empire but you don't need to lie to do it John Joe. In fact it works better if you don't. I'm no Darth Vader, I think we both know that.
A sneer begins to develop on Phil's cute-as-a-button face.
Atken: I'm disappointed Sykes. I saw us as some kind of kindred spirits. I think we both know what a loss on Sunday night means for our futures. Right now, we're two men on a very narrow tight rope trying to regain our balance or slip into the abyss. Sunday night, one of us will far into that dark void, perhaps never able to escape it. The other one, well he finally get a chance to finally find his way safely across that rope to relevancy.
I had a lot of empathy for you, maybe that was my mistake, maybe that's what angers me. I'm normally a man with nothing but self interest but I looked at you Johnny and I saw me, I saw me 8 years ago. I saw a champion without a company. I saw a dog without a bone. I saw a lost puppy. I wanted to give you a helping hand because I knew what it was like to be where you are. I wanted to put on a show. I may have wanted to come out the victor, sure, I need this win just as much as you but I wanted to see you go down swinging. I wanted to put on a show, two men, struggling to get to grips with their recent string of losses working together to get the crowd back up on their feet. I wanted people leaping out of their chairs, pumping theirs fists, making weird bird cawing noises because they wanted to join in but didn't know what else to do. I wanted that kind of match that showed the triumph of the human spirit. Now?
Phil bows his head slightly, he is noticeably looking far more enraged than you would normally find Phil Atken.
Atken: Now I want to toss you down that pit. Now I want to make sure that after you crash down hard at the bottom, you never find your way back out again. I want to hire a god damn cement truck to back up and fill up that pit. I want to ensure no life escapes from it. I damn sure want you to once again be a “Forgotten”. This time around though, that little nickname of your old team? I want to make it permanent. I'll tell you what I want, I want to stand back at the top of the mountain of this industry as an all conquering champion and god damn god. That though, that's not enough, I want to erase you from the history books from my throne atop APW. I want people to ask “who?” when I mention that my gold and glory is all down to you. I want wrestling historian to struggle to even find a picture of you, I want you to be THAT forgettable. That is what I fucking want now Johnny.
At this point, Phil is spitting mad, his cheeks are red in a surprising fury. A side of Phil that very few have ever seen. The only time Phil was ever seen this red in the past was when he was pushed into and subsequently severely burnt by a bathtub full of hot tea.
Atken: I'm not this little toy that you can just ascribe any bloody thing you want to Johnny and I'm not going to sit here and let you do it. You see, there is a small difference between you and me. I have integrity. I don't spend my time planning the next new way to send some of APW's innocent stage hands on hospital visits. You know, they have families, they have to earn a living. Your little jokes? They're just ensuring that little Jane doesn't get to go to college because her daddy had to pay the cost for your pranks. There's no integrity in that. There's no dignity in that. You have no dignity.
Phil looks up to the ceiling of the room and takes a deep breathe. He exhales and slowly lowers his head
Atken: Johnny, you've made Sunday night a match about integrity. In fact to be more specific, you've made Sunday night a match about MY integrity. I don't think I can sleep at night if I go down to a liar, a fraud... hell, a bully. If I lose to you, people might actually start to believe what you say. The little kid's might think “hey, that Johnny Sykes! He's got a point” and then accidentally blind their best friend when they try to recreate one of your pranks. The more people like you that exist in this industry, the lower the entire place sinks.
I may be brash, arrogant, self-centred, self-serving, a glory hound, a communist but beyond all that, I'm a man of great integrity. You want to make up things I've said, go ahead. Lie about me all you want Johnny but on Sunday night, you're going to find yourself paying a bill that I can guarantee you, you won't be able to afford.
I'm going to take great joy in pushing you off that wire. That resounding thud as you hit the bottom, that's euphoria.
Phil smiles once again, less of his normal tooth gormless grin, more of a smug smile of satisfaction, the camera fades to black zooming in on his face.
The voice heard espousing such words belonged to one man and one man alone. That sole man (not to be confused with a Soul Man, something completely different) stood by his lonesome in a vacant room. He wore no clothes about from all the clothes he was wearing. That man was Phil Atken and it seemed that he had something on his mind grapes that was ready to be squeezed out.
It had seemed that Phil had heard Sykes recent comments to the APW faithful and from all reports, he was less than delighted at what he had to say. Most reports actually featured the word “disappointed” which is astounding because no one was sure Phil Atken was even capable of such an emotion.
Phil stood bolt upright in front of the camera, has hands clasped together like a game show host ready to introduce the next round.
Atken: You know, I heard Johnny “The Johnman” Sykes called me and I quote “a doodie head” and you know what, that just will not stand. I look forward to proving that it is not I who is the doodie head but rather it is he who is the doodie head by doodieing on his head on the upcoming edition of Asylum. That'll show him a thing or two about a thing or two.
Phil give a little snort and a satisfied smile to boot.
Atken: You see Johnny JoeJoe, we can all pretend people said something. I could make up shit about things you've said for day. Hell, I could call my friends in the tabloid business and say I have it on good authority that you called dear old Reggie a racist slur. Now that wouldn't make sense for a multitude of reasons but hey, I said it on the record so it must be true! Next thing you know everyone is talking about that racist old Sykes boy. The same he brought to his mother and family, a noble line of activists in the fight for racial equality.
Phil tilts his head slightly and looks into the camera.
Atken: Do you understand what I'm getting at young master Jonathan? None of what I just said is true but it turns out if you say it with enough authority, people start to believe it. Hell, if I keep saying you're a no good racist and only play pranks on what you call “the black people” maybe I'll start to believe it myself. It's almost working! I can't believe I've been booked in a match with a no good racist rascal on Sunday! How very dare this company we call APW force me to face him! It's practically against my human rights!
Phil straightens himself up once more, chuckling to himself as he does so.
Atken: Nobody likes word put in their mouth Johnny. Least of all a credible journalist like myself. I deal in fact Sykesy, I have a chat show dedicated to getting the “COLD. HARD. TRUTH.” from all manner of APW superstars and superstarettes. I then take that truth into my dark room, exposing it under a harsh light. Did you think I wouldn't notice when you started to lie about me? Did you think I was just going to pretend you didn't slander me? I've been flapping my gums about you being beneath me? Really. I never knew that and you think I would know what I have said about you better than you would. After all, I am me. I would know the sorts of things that me says. And me, me didn't say that.
Atken stops in his tracks and allows his brain to process the thoughts that he had just uttered. Phil clears his throat and trying to re-rail his train of thought.
Atken: Sorry, we all have a brain fart now and again. Let me make this explicitly clear though. Johnny, you are not beneath me, in fact, I'm taking you very seriously. We're both out to destroy each other, I think we both know that. However, I'm the one on the side of the good and the great here. I'm the one standing up for those you prey on. I'm going in to this match carrying the flag of all your prankees, the people you mess around without a second though. I'm in it for me too, after all, I'm not an idiot.
Phil gives a little bit of a weary smile before he continues.
Atken: Before you opened that great gaping maw that you call a mouth, I actually had a lot of sympathy for you Johnny. I could see and sense your frustration at Test for the Best, I mean I know better than most in this company what it feels like to see your future crumble in front of you. It hurts to go from the hot young stud with a lot to prove and the talent to back it up only to find yourself mere moments later scratching and clawing your way back up, trying to find that small morsel of relevancy. In that long battle up to the top it doesn't hurt to paint yourself as the plucky underdog going up against the evil empire but you don't need to lie to do it John Joe. In fact it works better if you don't. I'm no Darth Vader, I think we both know that.
A sneer begins to develop on Phil's cute-as-a-button face.
Atken: I'm disappointed Sykes. I saw us as some kind of kindred spirits. I think we both know what a loss on Sunday night means for our futures. Right now, we're two men on a very narrow tight rope trying to regain our balance or slip into the abyss. Sunday night, one of us will far into that dark void, perhaps never able to escape it. The other one, well he finally get a chance to finally find his way safely across that rope to relevancy.
I had a lot of empathy for you, maybe that was my mistake, maybe that's what angers me. I'm normally a man with nothing but self interest but I looked at you Johnny and I saw me, I saw me 8 years ago. I saw a champion without a company. I saw a dog without a bone. I saw a lost puppy. I wanted to give you a helping hand because I knew what it was like to be where you are. I wanted to put on a show. I may have wanted to come out the victor, sure, I need this win just as much as you but I wanted to see you go down swinging. I wanted to put on a show, two men, struggling to get to grips with their recent string of losses working together to get the crowd back up on their feet. I wanted people leaping out of their chairs, pumping theirs fists, making weird bird cawing noises because they wanted to join in but didn't know what else to do. I wanted that kind of match that showed the triumph of the human spirit. Now?
Phil bows his head slightly, he is noticeably looking far more enraged than you would normally find Phil Atken.
Atken: Now I want to toss you down that pit. Now I want to make sure that after you crash down hard at the bottom, you never find your way back out again. I want to hire a god damn cement truck to back up and fill up that pit. I want to ensure no life escapes from it. I damn sure want you to once again be a “Forgotten”. This time around though, that little nickname of your old team? I want to make it permanent. I'll tell you what I want, I want to stand back at the top of the mountain of this industry as an all conquering champion and god damn god. That though, that's not enough, I want to erase you from the history books from my throne atop APW. I want people to ask “who?” when I mention that my gold and glory is all down to you. I want wrestling historian to struggle to even find a picture of you, I want you to be THAT forgettable. That is what I fucking want now Johnny.
At this point, Phil is spitting mad, his cheeks are red in a surprising fury. A side of Phil that very few have ever seen. The only time Phil was ever seen this red in the past was when he was pushed into and subsequently severely burnt by a bathtub full of hot tea.
Atken: I'm not this little toy that you can just ascribe any bloody thing you want to Johnny and I'm not going to sit here and let you do it. You see, there is a small difference between you and me. I have integrity. I don't spend my time planning the next new way to send some of APW's innocent stage hands on hospital visits. You know, they have families, they have to earn a living. Your little jokes? They're just ensuring that little Jane doesn't get to go to college because her daddy had to pay the cost for your pranks. There's no integrity in that. There's no dignity in that. You have no dignity.
Phil looks up to the ceiling of the room and takes a deep breathe. He exhales and slowly lowers his head
Atken: Johnny, you've made Sunday night a match about integrity. In fact to be more specific, you've made Sunday night a match about MY integrity. I don't think I can sleep at night if I go down to a liar, a fraud... hell, a bully. If I lose to you, people might actually start to believe what you say. The little kid's might think “hey, that Johnny Sykes! He's got a point” and then accidentally blind their best friend when they try to recreate one of your pranks. The more people like you that exist in this industry, the lower the entire place sinks.
I may be brash, arrogant, self-centred, self-serving, a glory hound, a communist but beyond all that, I'm a man of great integrity. You want to make up things I've said, go ahead. Lie about me all you want Johnny but on Sunday night, you're going to find yourself paying a bill that I can guarantee you, you won't be able to afford.
I'm going to take great joy in pushing you off that wire. That resounding thud as you hit the bottom, that's euphoria.
Phil smiles once again, less of his normal tooth gormless grin, more of a smug smile of satisfaction, the camera fades to black zooming in on his face.
