Post by J-Hop on Mar 9, 2013 21:07:43 GMT -4
PUSHED TO THE LIMIT: MY SOUL WILL HAVE TO WAIT
2/25/13 - 12:45 AM – Calgary, Alberta, CA
It was a quiet ride leaving the Scotiabank Saddledome. Hopkins and Bailey were the two getting the ride back to their hotels via the public taxi. It wasn’t what was normal, but it would do the job. The faces were long and curved downward. You could feel the vibe. Bailey was a calm individual, Hopkins was teetering like a whistling kettle pot jumping off the stove. He was hot. HOT!!!
“Yo Ant’ … I don’t know how much longer I can take getting attacked from behind. Two shows in a row, man?”
Anthony sat cool and calm still as he looked through the window.
“I know Jair. It’s not a ‘loveable’ thing. We have to look forward to revenge come Rasslemania IX. There we can unleash this built-up anguish. Right now, we have to stay focused.”
Hopkins, he didn’t look to agree with that statement as he bit on the bottom of his lip aggressively. His head tilted down, looking at his jeans, he wasn’t interested about a visual tour leading to our stops.
“I just don’t understand it? What the hell did we do besides becoming a nice force in the tag division? Attacked by an unstable bitch, the next we get ambushed by her peasants. Really?”
Anthony nods as he looks over to Jair, seeing he wasn’t taking the recent beatdowns.
“We have to use it to our advantage.” Anthony speaks, trying to change Hopkins’s expression. “Although I think the deal with Kane and Evans is not from that of AJP.”
Jair’s eyes widened as he looked up towards Bailey.
“So why did they attack us then? Jealousy?” Hopkins asked.
Anthony followed with a nod.
“They see our ranking and they’re out for blood … like sharks. We just have to fend’ them off. Kane and Evans, they have their issues with M&M or so. So attacking us pretty much …”
Jair nodded, knowing the rest.
“We’re their prime example of proving a point!” Hopkins said with frustrated look
Anthony nodded once again.
“Well fuck it! I’m going to prove a point to them that they fucked with the wrroooonnnggg people, Ant. What happened to you, Will … I just … I just don’t know how to take it. I want to break her face but I know it will cancel out or chance at getting those titles back!”
Hopkins sighed as he just shook his head.
“I talked to him earlier before show time, he’s doing better. He says he needs you to be calm and collective. We know what success tastes like and that’s why we’re envied the most. There’s others out there with those same envious feelings but they are laying low. We have to keep a look out.”
Hopkins understood as he nodded. The cab pulled up at the hotel he was resting at. Shaking hands and dapping fists, the two parted ways for the night as Hopkins exited the cab and gave a peace sign to Bailey.
“I’ll be in contact with you soon … If I’m not in jail!”
Bailey laughed it off as he nodded.
“Be safe, dude!” Bailey said before the cab pulled off.
Hopkins walked on in as that was all that was said for the rest of the night.
-------------------------
3/3/13 - 1:30 PM – Brooklyn, New York
…. Little Weapon,
Little Weapon,
Little Weapon
We're calling you
There's a war
if the guns are just too tall for you
We'll find you something small to use
Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon
We need you now, pow …
The sounds of “Little Weapon” echoing throughout the small boxing gym borrowed out from Ramirez as Hopkins had made it back home safely before having to take back off in a couple of days to go back up to Canada. Hopkins was all geared up, a mean look on his face as he was all serious, veins popping, heart jumping. He was ready to lay it in.
Pictures of Muhammad Ali and other Iconic personalities and historical teams stood as motivation on the back wall of the barely used old boxing gymnasium.
“Aight boy, time to put in work!” Ramirez spoke out with his chest as Hopkins stood in his stance.
Ramirez stood as the ‘coach’ as he stood a couple of feet away from Hopkins and the big ass punching bag. Hopkins gave it a deep glare as Ramirez out of nowhere blew a whistle.
“GET IT IN!” He shouted with enthusiasm, hoping for the best out of his project.
Gear, music, quietness, anger, and a punching bag. Hopkins had all one needed to have a really good workout session. Ramirez remained in position as Hopkins started laying into that bag heavily.
“Pace yourself, homie!” Ramirez shouted out to Hopkins to which Hopkins slowed up a bit on his punches and power delivery in each punch.
Hopkins jogged around the bag as he hit it from all different directions. Ramirez nodded at the quick progression of Hopkins and his moves as he was pumped up.
“Damn J’ … What got you so amped up?” Ramirez asked. Hopkins took a short pause from action.
“A bitch, that’s what got me fired up. A tricky, dirty bitch who has two identities.”
Juan began smiling before shortly laughing afterwards.
“Haha, she’s still on your brain dawg’? You need a restraining order placed against her.” Ramirez suggested.
Hopkins shook his head, somewhat of a smirk on his face.
“Nah, I’m the one who’s going to need it after burying her in a grave. She needs help.” Hopkins replied, shaking his head.
Ramirez just laughed, looking at Hopkins, not seeing him as that kind of person with a foul soul.
“Everything will be alright, man!” Ramirez said out as Hopkins refrained from agreeing.
“It’s not. Nothing is alright, Juan. They’ve taken us for granted. They’ve taken our quiet style for granted. They’re jealous of our good fortune now.”
“Yeah well I always lived by my own little edited quote. Sticks and Stones can break my bones but jealousy will never hurt me.” Ramirez followed with a smile.
Hopkins adored the made-up quote as he went back to beating up the punching bag, feeling stronger from each punch given. His muscles work, was quite a workout as Ramirez watched on.
“If you punch your opponent this week like what you are doing to the punching bag, I don’t think they will have a face.” Ramirez said, looking impressed.
Hopkins nodded, liking what was just said.
“They won’t!”
Hopkins continued boxing at the bag, watching it move side to side from the punching impact of Hopkins’s force. It swayed heavily East to West as he took off his boxing gloves, tossing them to Ramirez.
“I think I just beat the shit out of the bag, Ramirez.”
Ramirez, catching the gloves laughs at Hopkins who stretches after the brief, yet intense workout. The aggressive tone he had seemed to be less visible as he walked loosely, no frown, no straight-face. He had a small curve up in the fashion of a smile as he flexed and posed.
“Yeahhhh … I’m ready to kick some douchebag-ass!” Hopkins excitedly spoke.
“Just be careful, kid. You just got to remain focus and not let anything take you off.” Ramirez said, giving advice.
Hopkins nodded with sureness.
“Yeah, I know. Everyone seems to be saying that now to me. Damn!”
“Only for your safety. Those bums after you are no joke. They’re trying their best to take you out of the game. Be prepared!” Ramirez said that as he knew the plan.
Hopkins nodded, taking it seriously with what Ramirez was saying.
“I’m going to try. Things are going to get much worse, but as a team, we’ll all have each other’s backs.” Hopkins said, responding with a neutral grin.
“Stay safe, man. I’ll get back with you!” Ramirez said.
Hopkins was prepping all his stuff back up as he headed for the door. Ramirez waived off as he held those sparring boxing gloves in his hands. A smile on his face, Ramirez watched on as Hopkins exited out of the old semi-used boxing gym.
Scene fade.
----------------------------------------------------------------
WTF???: 'FRIENEMIES'
They are playing with my emotions…
No. Write over. Make it ‘Tyler Perry-esque’
They are playing with a BLACK MAN’S EMOTION!!!
Booking department here in APW obviously sees humor in this match. They know what they’re doing placing a dynamite and C4 Explosives beside each other with a gallon of gas and other flammable hazards.
They know what they are doing. Pleasing the fans.
While I’m all for the ‘teasing and pleasing’, this is not the time, the day or night to play games. Reginald Schmidt sees this as a kickoff for what’s to come at RassleMania IX.
This match, it’s too damn combustible. Take me out from Dying Breed. Take Logan out from M&M. Combine us together to go against two douchebags that have problems with Logan and Aubrey yet to only include me … us … The Dying Breed into the mix. Now it’s just a bowl full of mixed powder. All we need is eggs and oil to make a beautiful disaster on the last episode of Asylum before Rasslemania IX.
Mr. Schmidt’s eyes light up brighter than Christmas lights knowing the concoction he’s made. This is a match that has three letters attached to it. DTA. Don’t Trust Anybody. We’ve all seen how far Kane and Evans can go to try and get in the spotlight. They rather do dirty deeds to get ahead rather than WORK for the damn position. So they got their little chemistry. Me and Logan. I don’t trust the motherfucker. I come from a place where the word “trust” is damn near extinct. If you do trust someone, you only hope they trust you as well.
I don’t trust him … He’s linked to a bitch who doesn’t even know her last name right now. An unstable pair of breasts and a vaginal system that is wired heavily to the point, it’s tripping the circuit breakers. It’s a shame too because she had it so good. She had fans, she had love, she had everyone rooting for her. Now, no one can stand her ass. No one can trust her even if she throws her ‘puppy dog’ eyes towards the viewers in the arena and at home. She injured my crew and for that, it’s like fucking with one’s family. It’s personal, dead personal.
She, deep down, she’s scared of the future. She’s scared of Rasslemania IX and that match. She’s fearing that title sitting on her and her ‘boy toy’s’ shoulder is slipping away slowly. They can front as much as they want, but they feel us about to ram them right in the ass.
Like the ‘Po-Po’, we’re gonna bang those sirens before we unleash havoc on your bumper.
I see you Kaylyn, don’t go hiding behind your boy, trying to feel ‘protected’. He’s like a used condom, he has leaks, holes and all it’s going to do is come right onto you. You should’ve chosen another person, team to go after rather than Dying Breed. It seems like hanging around Kash has paid off on your end. You’re looking just like him, wrinkles, bad breathe and a smile that could crack a mirror. Perfect. His ways of doing has rubbed off onto you.
Well, tell Kash that it worked. You garnered my attention for one night. It’s going to be the last too. You are the weak link in this battle. What? You’re going to have Christian does all the work for you so you can come in, do some tricky gymnastic flips and a splash and hope for success?
It’s not going to happen, ‘sweet cheeks’. You want to play this game, but you don’t want to pay the price for enjoyment. Its okay, Miss Evans, you want to make a name for yourself the cheap way.
Shit with you two, you got your shot in, now it’s time for mines.
Christian, you know what’s about to happen.
What? You mad I called you a ‘used condom’? Just be glad I didn’t call you much worse. You think you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter? You ever heard of the word “earned”? Have you? I’m guessing you never heard of the phrase “Wait your turn” either, right? It pains me that people can’t even wait their goddamn turn, they always want to butt their chins into the conversation and when things don’t roll their way, they look to violence to gain attention. What you thought would happen after attacking us? Did you think you were going to get some kind of ‘props’ for that? You thought you’d get a dock up in points closer to getting that opportunity?
You’re sadly fucking mistaken, kid.
You have to earn like each and every person in this company, this brand. You have to “fight” for what you want. Beat the competition ahead of you and you rank up. Attacking folks from behind and doing inexplicable gestures doesn’t get you closer to the race. It only furthers you back and your brain. But it’s okay because although your hate is with Logan and Aubrey, you just picked up some new ‘friends’ along with that of M&M. If it weren’t for you Kane, this week’s matchup would not exist.
Now look? You’re about to get messed up over a chance you and your friend will never ever see anyways. You two aren’t ready, too immature. At least for M&M, I can say they worked their way up to get to where they are. It’s just that now they’re so “popular”, it’s gone to their heads, especially ‘Miss Psycho’.
Logan, I swear man. I can’t trust you. We may be ‘temporary teammates’ but don’t expect our chemistry to be on-point. I expect the worst out of you. I expect you to come in and lose the match on purpose just to see me fail. I expect you to do crooked things, like force tags and such. I expect it and you know what?
I’m not even going to be pissed about it, to be honest.
It’s only two weeks away. I get to work, train to use that ‘fucked up, pissed off’ mentality towards you and Aubrey. You might’ve seen many mean bastards react towards your actions but I bet you haven’t seen a mad black man’s rage. While Anthony and William may sit calm and just smile, don’t expect a smile out of me until both of your heads are chopped off, Soprano-style.
This is what happens when you disturb the quiet.
The outcomes are always unexpected.
Get ready Evans … Kane ….. Logan.
2/25/13 - 12:45 AM – Calgary, Alberta, CA
It was a quiet ride leaving the Scotiabank Saddledome. Hopkins and Bailey were the two getting the ride back to their hotels via the public taxi. It wasn’t what was normal, but it would do the job. The faces were long and curved downward. You could feel the vibe. Bailey was a calm individual, Hopkins was teetering like a whistling kettle pot jumping off the stove. He was hot. HOT!!!
“Yo Ant’ … I don’t know how much longer I can take getting attacked from behind. Two shows in a row, man?”
Anthony sat cool and calm still as he looked through the window.
“I know Jair. It’s not a ‘loveable’ thing. We have to look forward to revenge come Rasslemania IX. There we can unleash this built-up anguish. Right now, we have to stay focused.”
Hopkins, he didn’t look to agree with that statement as he bit on the bottom of his lip aggressively. His head tilted down, looking at his jeans, he wasn’t interested about a visual tour leading to our stops.
“I just don’t understand it? What the hell did we do besides becoming a nice force in the tag division? Attacked by an unstable bitch, the next we get ambushed by her peasants. Really?”
Anthony nods as he looks over to Jair, seeing he wasn’t taking the recent beatdowns.
“We have to use it to our advantage.” Anthony speaks, trying to change Hopkins’s expression. “Although I think the deal with Kane and Evans is not from that of AJP.”
Jair’s eyes widened as he looked up towards Bailey.
“So why did they attack us then? Jealousy?” Hopkins asked.
Anthony followed with a nod.
“They see our ranking and they’re out for blood … like sharks. We just have to fend’ them off. Kane and Evans, they have their issues with M&M or so. So attacking us pretty much …”
Jair nodded, knowing the rest.
“We’re their prime example of proving a point!” Hopkins said with frustrated look
Anthony nodded once again.
“Well fuck it! I’m going to prove a point to them that they fucked with the wrroooonnnggg people, Ant. What happened to you, Will … I just … I just don’t know how to take it. I want to break her face but I know it will cancel out or chance at getting those titles back!”
Hopkins sighed as he just shook his head.
“I talked to him earlier before show time, he’s doing better. He says he needs you to be calm and collective. We know what success tastes like and that’s why we’re envied the most. There’s others out there with those same envious feelings but they are laying low. We have to keep a look out.”
Hopkins understood as he nodded. The cab pulled up at the hotel he was resting at. Shaking hands and dapping fists, the two parted ways for the night as Hopkins exited the cab and gave a peace sign to Bailey.
“I’ll be in contact with you soon … If I’m not in jail!”
Bailey laughed it off as he nodded.
“Be safe, dude!” Bailey said before the cab pulled off.
Hopkins walked on in as that was all that was said for the rest of the night.
-------------------------
3/3/13 - 1:30 PM – Brooklyn, New York
…. Little Weapon,
Little Weapon,
Little Weapon
We're calling you
There's a war
if the guns are just too tall for you
We'll find you something small to use
Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon
We need you now, pow …
The sounds of “Little Weapon” echoing throughout the small boxing gym borrowed out from Ramirez as Hopkins had made it back home safely before having to take back off in a couple of days to go back up to Canada. Hopkins was all geared up, a mean look on his face as he was all serious, veins popping, heart jumping. He was ready to lay it in.
Pictures of Muhammad Ali and other Iconic personalities and historical teams stood as motivation on the back wall of the barely used old boxing gymnasium.
“Aight boy, time to put in work!” Ramirez spoke out with his chest as Hopkins stood in his stance.
Ramirez stood as the ‘coach’ as he stood a couple of feet away from Hopkins and the big ass punching bag. Hopkins gave it a deep glare as Ramirez out of nowhere blew a whistle.
“GET IT IN!” He shouted with enthusiasm, hoping for the best out of his project.
Gear, music, quietness, anger, and a punching bag. Hopkins had all one needed to have a really good workout session. Ramirez remained in position as Hopkins started laying into that bag heavily.
“Pace yourself, homie!” Ramirez shouted out to Hopkins to which Hopkins slowed up a bit on his punches and power delivery in each punch.
Hopkins jogged around the bag as he hit it from all different directions. Ramirez nodded at the quick progression of Hopkins and his moves as he was pumped up.
“Damn J’ … What got you so amped up?” Ramirez asked. Hopkins took a short pause from action.
“A bitch, that’s what got me fired up. A tricky, dirty bitch who has two identities.”
Juan began smiling before shortly laughing afterwards.
“Haha, she’s still on your brain dawg’? You need a restraining order placed against her.” Ramirez suggested.
Hopkins shook his head, somewhat of a smirk on his face.
“Nah, I’m the one who’s going to need it after burying her in a grave. She needs help.” Hopkins replied, shaking his head.
Ramirez just laughed, looking at Hopkins, not seeing him as that kind of person with a foul soul.
“Everything will be alright, man!” Ramirez said out as Hopkins refrained from agreeing.
“It’s not. Nothing is alright, Juan. They’ve taken us for granted. They’ve taken our quiet style for granted. They’re jealous of our good fortune now.”
“Yeah well I always lived by my own little edited quote. Sticks and Stones can break my bones but jealousy will never hurt me.” Ramirez followed with a smile.
Hopkins adored the made-up quote as he went back to beating up the punching bag, feeling stronger from each punch given. His muscles work, was quite a workout as Ramirez watched on.
“If you punch your opponent this week like what you are doing to the punching bag, I don’t think they will have a face.” Ramirez said, looking impressed.
Hopkins nodded, liking what was just said.
“They won’t!”
Hopkins continued boxing at the bag, watching it move side to side from the punching impact of Hopkins’s force. It swayed heavily East to West as he took off his boxing gloves, tossing them to Ramirez.
“I think I just beat the shit out of the bag, Ramirez.”
Ramirez, catching the gloves laughs at Hopkins who stretches after the brief, yet intense workout. The aggressive tone he had seemed to be less visible as he walked loosely, no frown, no straight-face. He had a small curve up in the fashion of a smile as he flexed and posed.
“Yeahhhh … I’m ready to kick some douchebag-ass!” Hopkins excitedly spoke.
“Just be careful, kid. You just got to remain focus and not let anything take you off.” Ramirez said, giving advice.
Hopkins nodded with sureness.
“Yeah, I know. Everyone seems to be saying that now to me. Damn!”
“Only for your safety. Those bums after you are no joke. They’re trying their best to take you out of the game. Be prepared!” Ramirez said that as he knew the plan.
Hopkins nodded, taking it seriously with what Ramirez was saying.
“I’m going to try. Things are going to get much worse, but as a team, we’ll all have each other’s backs.” Hopkins said, responding with a neutral grin.
“Stay safe, man. I’ll get back with you!” Ramirez said.
Hopkins was prepping all his stuff back up as he headed for the door. Ramirez waived off as he held those sparring boxing gloves in his hands. A smile on his face, Ramirez watched on as Hopkins exited out of the old semi-used boxing gym.
Scene fade.
----------------------------------------------------------------
WTF???: 'FRIENEMIES'
They are playing with my emotions…
No. Write over. Make it ‘Tyler Perry-esque’
They are playing with a BLACK MAN’S EMOTION!!!
Booking department here in APW obviously sees humor in this match. They know what they’re doing placing a dynamite and C4 Explosives beside each other with a gallon of gas and other flammable hazards.
They know what they are doing. Pleasing the fans.
While I’m all for the ‘teasing and pleasing’, this is not the time, the day or night to play games. Reginald Schmidt sees this as a kickoff for what’s to come at RassleMania IX.
This match, it’s too damn combustible. Take me out from Dying Breed. Take Logan out from M&M. Combine us together to go against two douchebags that have problems with Logan and Aubrey yet to only include me … us … The Dying Breed into the mix. Now it’s just a bowl full of mixed powder. All we need is eggs and oil to make a beautiful disaster on the last episode of Asylum before Rasslemania IX.
Mr. Schmidt’s eyes light up brighter than Christmas lights knowing the concoction he’s made. This is a match that has three letters attached to it. DTA. Don’t Trust Anybody. We’ve all seen how far Kane and Evans can go to try and get in the spotlight. They rather do dirty deeds to get ahead rather than WORK for the damn position. So they got their little chemistry. Me and Logan. I don’t trust the motherfucker. I come from a place where the word “trust” is damn near extinct. If you do trust someone, you only hope they trust you as well.
I don’t trust him … He’s linked to a bitch who doesn’t even know her last name right now. An unstable pair of breasts and a vaginal system that is wired heavily to the point, it’s tripping the circuit breakers. It’s a shame too because she had it so good. She had fans, she had love, she had everyone rooting for her. Now, no one can stand her ass. No one can trust her even if she throws her ‘puppy dog’ eyes towards the viewers in the arena and at home. She injured my crew and for that, it’s like fucking with one’s family. It’s personal, dead personal.
She, deep down, she’s scared of the future. She’s scared of Rasslemania IX and that match. She’s fearing that title sitting on her and her ‘boy toy’s’ shoulder is slipping away slowly. They can front as much as they want, but they feel us about to ram them right in the ass.
Like the ‘Po-Po’, we’re gonna bang those sirens before we unleash havoc on your bumper.
I see you Kaylyn, don’t go hiding behind your boy, trying to feel ‘protected’. He’s like a used condom, he has leaks, holes and all it’s going to do is come right onto you. You should’ve chosen another person, team to go after rather than Dying Breed. It seems like hanging around Kash has paid off on your end. You’re looking just like him, wrinkles, bad breathe and a smile that could crack a mirror. Perfect. His ways of doing has rubbed off onto you.
Well, tell Kash that it worked. You garnered my attention for one night. It’s going to be the last too. You are the weak link in this battle. What? You’re going to have Christian does all the work for you so you can come in, do some tricky gymnastic flips and a splash and hope for success?
It’s not going to happen, ‘sweet cheeks’. You want to play this game, but you don’t want to pay the price for enjoyment. Its okay, Miss Evans, you want to make a name for yourself the cheap way.
Shit with you two, you got your shot in, now it’s time for mines.
Christian, you know what’s about to happen.
What? You mad I called you a ‘used condom’? Just be glad I didn’t call you much worse. You think you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter? You ever heard of the word “earned”? Have you? I’m guessing you never heard of the phrase “Wait your turn” either, right? It pains me that people can’t even wait their goddamn turn, they always want to butt their chins into the conversation and when things don’t roll their way, they look to violence to gain attention. What you thought would happen after attacking us? Did you think you were going to get some kind of ‘props’ for that? You thought you’d get a dock up in points closer to getting that opportunity?
You’re sadly fucking mistaken, kid.
You have to earn like each and every person in this company, this brand. You have to “fight” for what you want. Beat the competition ahead of you and you rank up. Attacking folks from behind and doing inexplicable gestures doesn’t get you closer to the race. It only furthers you back and your brain. But it’s okay because although your hate is with Logan and Aubrey, you just picked up some new ‘friends’ along with that of M&M. If it weren’t for you Kane, this week’s matchup would not exist.
Now look? You’re about to get messed up over a chance you and your friend will never ever see anyways. You two aren’t ready, too immature. At least for M&M, I can say they worked their way up to get to where they are. It’s just that now they’re so “popular”, it’s gone to their heads, especially ‘Miss Psycho’.
Logan, I swear man. I can’t trust you. We may be ‘temporary teammates’ but don’t expect our chemistry to be on-point. I expect the worst out of you. I expect you to come in and lose the match on purpose just to see me fail. I expect you to do crooked things, like force tags and such. I expect it and you know what?
I’m not even going to be pissed about it, to be honest.
It’s only two weeks away. I get to work, train to use that ‘fucked up, pissed off’ mentality towards you and Aubrey. You might’ve seen many mean bastards react towards your actions but I bet you haven’t seen a mad black man’s rage. While Anthony and William may sit calm and just smile, don’t expect a smile out of me until both of your heads are chopped off, Soprano-style.
This is what happens when you disturb the quiet.
The outcomes are always unexpected.
Get ready Evans … Kane ….. Logan.
