Post by "The Welsh Dragon" Dan White on Apr 3, 2013 17:30:15 GMT -4
30th March, 2013
Cardiff, Wales
So we’re post-Rasslemania. Mr. White failed to win on the pre-show but he has every right to feel that he gave it a fair whack. And when you’re basically stuck in a situation where you’re fighting two against one for most the match, it’s reasonable to assume that you’re against the odds. That’s what happened, with Legion and Delikado practically double teaming Dan all match before Delikado stole the victory. That happens. It’s tough being the good guy in wrestling nowadays.
The scene opens up in a flat. It’s a lad’s flat, open-planned and very modern looking, certainly not something that you’d get for four hundred quid a month. No, this is the work of a career of being in the spotlight. Beautiful wooden panelling with dark acrylic walls. Dan was never one for bright rooms. Always liked things a little darker. The sofas are Italian, however not leather as unless Dan’s wearing an old biker’s jacket, he was never a fan of leather. And why am I writing this like Dan is dead? It’s a bloody flat, I don’t need to describe every detail to you!
It is clean though.
So anyways, our scene opens up and it’s a very low-profile affair. Dan, topless, is gathering a couple of clothing off of his clothes horse, and starts putting on a t-shirt. He hears a knock on the door and the handle opening. The Welsh Dragon is lightning-fast to turn around, but immediately relaxes his pose as he notices another black fellow walking in. A broad smile appears over Dan’s face as he greats the man with a hug.
Dan White: Now then boyo, how’s it going lad?
This is Dan’s brother that we’ve been hearing about. He looks familiar, like a Stevie-Ray look about himself. Younger looking, mind, and in decent shape. He’s very stocky underneath the t-shirt and jacket look he’s rocking, and he closes the door behind himself. He responds to Dan, speaking not with a Welsh accent, but that of a Geordie, an native of Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.
Sgt. Pilko: Alreet, long time no see! How’s the wrestling career going?
Dan White: Yeah not bad boyo, just a fleeting visit this time. Thought I’d give this place an old hoover and see the kids. How’s the promoting coming along, heard you got taken on by Sky?
Sgt. Pilko: Aye I did! Had a couple of boxing nights live on Sky Sports, hoping to get a PPV card sorted soon though. It’s been good stuff, never realised I’d have a knack for spotting boxing talent eh. And maths. I’ve got all that stuff all sorted up here in me head!
He points a finger to his temple, twisting it to imply he’s smarter than he probably thought he was. Dan raises his eyebrows, agreeing somewhat with his brother.
Sgt. Pilko: So you’ve seen the kids eh? They’ve gotten big! Can’t believe Bolton’s four years old now!
Dan scowls at his brother, whacking him in the chest and the younger White flinches as he sniggers
Dan White: Okay, so we named her Kendal. IT’S A NICE NAME AND I LIKE THE LAKE DISTRICT. It’s not as daft as Paris or Brooklyn or all those other stupid names. And James is a normal name as well!
Sgt. Pilko: Haha, I’m just pulling your leg. Little Birkenhead’s all right.
Dan looks like he’s ready to belt his brother, but thinks better of it and quickly changes the subject.
Dan White: ANYWAYS we’re in Panama City next, and after that I think a small tour of South America. You should come along, boyo. You might see some good talent down there. Panama, Venezuela and all that have a good boxing pedigree, don’t they?
Sgt. Pilko: They do yeah, but the thing is down there they’re all into MMA, and they’re very good at it as well. You’ll have seen what Anderson Silva did to Delikado, and that Delikado made you look like a bitch.
”Final warning…”
Dan White: Come anyways! You’re making enough cash. It’ll be good for the craic. There’s nobody to talk footy with in APW.
Sgt. Pilko: But the Tyne/Wear Derby’s coming up soon! I cannae miss the Derby!
Dan White: And I’m missing my lot win promotion for the first time in a billion years! Howay, it’ll be ace to come to South America!
Pilko ponders it, and I mean really thinks about it long and hard for a good couple of seconds.
Sgt. Pilko: Well, when are you flying out? I’ve got some time off, can probably tour for a couple of months or so. It’s all done electronically anyways. I’ve even got one of those camp little wireless phone thingies you stick in your ear!
Dan White: Get you, Mr. Agent! Errr, I’m flying back out on Tuesday, fighting on the Thursday in Panama City. So, you in?
Sgt. Pilko: Aye why not? It’ll be a laugh.
Dan White: Haha, nice one! Well get your ticket booked, and we’ll have a proper session later to say goodbye to these fine lands!
There’s a hint of sarcasm in Dan’s tone and Pilko is quick to pick up on it. It’s odd for a man who professes such love for his home nation to be sarcastic and rather callous about it. Pilko calls Dan out as he takes a seat, with a more serious tone this time.
Sgt. Pilko: So what’s the crack, then? Must have known when you decide to come back for just a couple of days over the bloody Atlantic that something wasn’t right. You’ve not got into shit with the firms again, have you?
Dan reluctantly takes a deep breath and slumps into a chair, knowing that this could take a while.
Dan White: Well you know the reason I went back to wrestling, don’t you? It’s cos of the money problems. Aye, I was doing alright and stuff after ACW closed down, went down the whole punditry route but I wasn’t exactly making as much money as I thought I was. I know, I’ve always needed an accountant and you don’t need to tell me that shit, cos I know it’s true. I’m not good with money and I never have been. Anyways without sponsorships and all those perks, yeah, I wasn’t quite making as much as I used to. Still six figures, aye. But not a massive amount. Anyways I managed to find a way to piss it up the wall.
Sgt. Pilko: Drugs?
Dan White: No.
Sgt. Pilko: Hookers?
Dan White: No.
Sgt. Pilko: Booze?
Dan White: Oh come on. Even people on the dole can be pissheads. You don’t drink yourself to owing a shit ton of money.
Sgt. Pilko: Depends what you’re drinking?
Dan White: Like what.
Sgt. Pilko: Crystal.
Dan White: I hate champagne. You know that.
Sgt. Pilko: Errrrr. Whisky?
Dan White: I hate that too! I’ll drink it but I hate it! Anyways you clown, it was gambling.
Pilko is taken back a little by this.
Sgt. Pilko: ….Seriously, you had a gambling problem?
Dan White: Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaah
Sgt. Pilko: What the hell were you betting on to get in such debt?
Dan White: Oh, just this and that. It was like, I’d call up and be all “I’ll stick allll this money on Shrewsbury to win” in the 90th minute and then they’d let in an equaliser. You know, micro betting. Didn’t really work though.
Sgt. Pilko: Fucking evidently! You’ve not downsized though. I thought the banks would have taken stuff off you?
Dan White: Nah they can’t, I’m up to date with the banks. It’s just other folk who like to dip their grubby little mitts into other people’s livelihoods. Sharks. You know the type.
Sgt. Pilko: Aye because I work with half of them, but that’s not to say I get on their wrong side. For fuck’s sake you daft fool, what the hell were you thinking? I thought you were smarter than that! Getting in with illegal betting?
Dan White: Well it wasn’t my fault!
Sgt. Pilko: Then who’s fault was it?
Dan White: ….Hang on a second, you’re four years younger than me. Why the hell am I taking a telling off from you?
Dan gets up in frustration, and grabs some more clothes off the horse, chucking them in a nearby suitcase.
Dan White: I’m making decent money with APW anyways, more if I’d been on that bloody Rasslemania card but that’s not the point….I’m making decent money and by the time I’m back in this country I’ll no doubt have enough to pay them off. Look, I don’t need to worry about it. They don’t know where I live and lord knows they’re not gonna come after me when I’m travelling with APW.
Sgt. Pilko: Who is it?
Dan White: Ah, no secrets here but it’s just some wannabe pretender from Port Talbot. Fucking hurts though that I can’t even enjoy my own country or see my kids or owt for a decent period of time. Or even go on the pull without the threat of being kidnapped and summarily executed with a gun.
Pilko gives his older brother a look of sheer distain.
Sgt. Pilko: What? Execution? What kind of dickhead do you owe money to?
Dan White: A dickhead who could have ties with the IRA. No biggy though, those guys aren’t as strong as they once were.
Sgt. Pilko: They’re still the IR fucking A! Doesn’t matter how strong they used to be if you owe money they’re still gonna find you!
Dan White: He’s not IRA, he’s just associated with them. That could mean anything! He could be against them for all we know…
Sgt. Pilko: And how true is that likely to be?
Dan White: Admittedly not very. But hey, I’ve not been attacked yet, have I? And I think there’s a few pints with my name on it. Look, they’re not gonna attack the riverside, are they. I think they’re just waiting until I decide to take a single stroll up the Welsh Highlands or something. So honestly, please, don’t worry about it. Let’s get ready for a night out.
Sgt. Pilko shakes his head with disgust, although he’s keen to the idea of having a night out. He gets up, and makes his way to the spare bedroom to get ready, and enjoy a final night out in the UK before embarking on the never-ending APW tour!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
3rd April 2013
Panama City, Panama
We open up in the backstage of the Roberto Duran Arena. It’s still one night before Overdrive resumes following Rasslemania, but one such competitor is keen to make his voice heard. Yup, Mr. White is early and sober as he gets ready to address the APW faithful. Sunglasses on (it’s a damn sight hotter in Central America than it is in South Wales), he has a microphone in hand. No interviewer necessary. Just Dan and a camera.
Dan White: So after all of the furore, Dan White, myself, made it to Rasslemania to open the show. It was broadcast LIVE to the masses, live in front of a FREE audience. Well, as long as you had won a computer in a raffle and you sponged free internet off your neighbour’s unsecure connection. ANYWAYS, it was live, it was free, and you all witnessed yours truly fail to defeat Legion and Delikado.
And yes it was a defeat that hit quite hard. My first Pay per View. I wasn’t on the main card but it was MY time to SHINE. And I failed to win. Sure, I failed to win. And that was pretty gutting, but I can take positives from this. Unless you’re some kind of steroid-inhaling freak or you’re sucking dick you do not walk into a company and maintain a ridiculous winning record that goes on for shows, for weeks and for months. You don’t. It’s been a learning curve so far. I’ve won one, and lost one, and I was reminded what happens when you fight with two little winnet diggers who have a chip on their shoulders. So yeah, basically a handicap match, your fan favourite gets slapped about, and Deli is too good for Legion and takes the victory. It was hard to take, but I can’t have expected any favours from Legion. I mean look at him, some pathetic drugged-up Sid Vicious wannabe. And I’m not talking about our favourite one-legged bandit either. But Delikado won, and I was pinned. That’s fine. That’s okay. Tomorrow night he could be World Champion so for better or for worse, I can deal with losing to him at this stage in my APW career.
Legion, however. Now this is a different story, Legion my boy. You’ve got a name like a crap Roman wannabe, which makes two things you wish you were but you’re not. And you’re not causing any empiric type of domination here on Overdrive. In fact, have you even won yet? I’m guessing you’re only around to make people feel good about themselves. Well, if kicking your arse round Panama means I’m getting another win under my belt and a title shot as well then, aye, I’ll feel pretty fucking good about it as well. The Xtreme Title, a little too “oh my god how Hardcore am I!!!” scene kid style of a name for my liking but hey, if it’s an ends to a means, I guess wearing it around for a little while wouldn’t hurt. Might give me a bit of extra cash as well!
Tell you what, Panama is a lovely city and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. It’s beautiful, can a fantastic spirit about the place, and isn’t infested with murder and drugs like its neighbours left and right. Probably because of the massive fucking rainforest and the canal that stops people travelling through here so much. But Panama is good, and undervalued. Something that owes so much to the world that is so underappreciated. I’d bet that there’s more people in the world that know of the Panama Canal than people that know that Panama is even a country. And it’s nice to be away from more generic countries, and really get my feet dirty. I was last here about seven years ago, and that feels like a long damn time! Back then I was a daft kid trying to impress as many people as I could, and I wasn’t really doing a great job of it. You could call it Rocky Maivia heat, if you want. Anyways, back then I realised the whole wrestling thing wasn’t working, took a break that lasted about eighteen months, and returned to become one of the world’s stars. I had another break, and eighteen months later, I’m back! And here in Panama City! What an astounding coincidence! And sadly for Mr. Legion, my career isn’t regressing, oh no. This bad boy’s just getting started again!
And it’s starting tomorrow night! Xtreme Title, it could be the Binlids Trampoline Championship for all I care about. But this is what it’s about. Glory, and stepping up to the mark. You conspired to have me beat the first time, but I promise you, this won’t happen again. Unlike last time I have skill on my side. Have you ever even been in a Hardcore-style match? I mean you look the type that’s done the whole “I’m a big emo please cry for me” shtick. Have you cut your wrists? Was it a serious attempt, a cry for attention or just another one of those stupid fucking ideologies that kids have these days that self-harm is a cool thing to do. Whatever the answer is, I’m pretty sure I can supply you with some harm of my own. I’ll have Matilda to one side and the Eggheads on the other, and it’ll be a doddle. And you don’t have to worry about my little brother either. He’s got no interest in this sport anymore, he’s here for his own reasons. Trust me, I’m not crap enough to need help in carting your gutless, sorry body into a shallow grave like a disobedient member of a drugs cartel.
And after that? Well who knows. There’s a new sheriff in town so that’ll be interesting. Will my title shot be next week? The week after? At when and wherever the hell the next Pay per View is? Who knows. All I care about is doing my own thing and maybe I’ll get noticed. Who knows? And that brings me to my final point, Legion. You see you once mentioned to me that you’ve been everywhere, to quote Jonny Cash, as you always have. A bunch of meaningless capital letters that could be anything from a wrestling promotion to a fucking ticket machine abbreviation. Same with my career, same with most people’s career. In our business, there are more damn companies than boxing so there’s no point wallowing in the past. And before you go all nit-picky no, I’m not wallowing, I’m reminiscing and there’s a difference. There’s a massive difference in wishing the past was present and remembering the good times of the past. I’m doing the latter, and while they’re fond moments, I know they’re gone. And I’m here, making my own memories in APW. I don’t care if you’ve never heard of me because frankly I’d never heard of you prior to joining here.
So let’s go. Quite unusual that the APW would have me booked against you three times in a row but that’s fine. That’s okay. I may have fucked up the first opportunity and been a victim of a conspiracy in the second, but when it’s one on one, you don’t have a rat’s chance in hell. And that, my friend, is a right…
…touch…
Dan gives a smirk to the camera, and quickly changes it to a grimacing stare, before making a swift exit left, right or wherever the hell you want Dan to go.
Let’s go!
Cardiff, Wales
So we’re post-Rasslemania. Mr. White failed to win on the pre-show but he has every right to feel that he gave it a fair whack. And when you’re basically stuck in a situation where you’re fighting two against one for most the match, it’s reasonable to assume that you’re against the odds. That’s what happened, with Legion and Delikado practically double teaming Dan all match before Delikado stole the victory. That happens. It’s tough being the good guy in wrestling nowadays.
The scene opens up in a flat. It’s a lad’s flat, open-planned and very modern looking, certainly not something that you’d get for four hundred quid a month. No, this is the work of a career of being in the spotlight. Beautiful wooden panelling with dark acrylic walls. Dan was never one for bright rooms. Always liked things a little darker. The sofas are Italian, however not leather as unless Dan’s wearing an old biker’s jacket, he was never a fan of leather. And why am I writing this like Dan is dead? It’s a bloody flat, I don’t need to describe every detail to you!
It is clean though.
So anyways, our scene opens up and it’s a very low-profile affair. Dan, topless, is gathering a couple of clothing off of his clothes horse, and starts putting on a t-shirt. He hears a knock on the door and the handle opening. The Welsh Dragon is lightning-fast to turn around, but immediately relaxes his pose as he notices another black fellow walking in. A broad smile appears over Dan’s face as he greats the man with a hug.
Dan White: Now then boyo, how’s it going lad?
This is Dan’s brother that we’ve been hearing about. He looks familiar, like a Stevie-Ray look about himself. Younger looking, mind, and in decent shape. He’s very stocky underneath the t-shirt and jacket look he’s rocking, and he closes the door behind himself. He responds to Dan, speaking not with a Welsh accent, but that of a Geordie, an native of Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.
Sgt. Pilko: Alreet, long time no see! How’s the wrestling career going?
Dan White: Yeah not bad boyo, just a fleeting visit this time. Thought I’d give this place an old hoover and see the kids. How’s the promoting coming along, heard you got taken on by Sky?
Sgt. Pilko: Aye I did! Had a couple of boxing nights live on Sky Sports, hoping to get a PPV card sorted soon though. It’s been good stuff, never realised I’d have a knack for spotting boxing talent eh. And maths. I’ve got all that stuff all sorted up here in me head!
He points a finger to his temple, twisting it to imply he’s smarter than he probably thought he was. Dan raises his eyebrows, agreeing somewhat with his brother.
Sgt. Pilko: So you’ve seen the kids eh? They’ve gotten big! Can’t believe Bolton’s four years old now!
Dan scowls at his brother, whacking him in the chest and the younger White flinches as he sniggers
Dan White: Okay, so we named her Kendal. IT’S A NICE NAME AND I LIKE THE LAKE DISTRICT. It’s not as daft as Paris or Brooklyn or all those other stupid names. And James is a normal name as well!
Sgt. Pilko: Haha, I’m just pulling your leg. Little Birkenhead’s all right.
Dan looks like he’s ready to belt his brother, but thinks better of it and quickly changes the subject.
Dan White: ANYWAYS we’re in Panama City next, and after that I think a small tour of South America. You should come along, boyo. You might see some good talent down there. Panama, Venezuela and all that have a good boxing pedigree, don’t they?
Sgt. Pilko: They do yeah, but the thing is down there they’re all into MMA, and they’re very good at it as well. You’ll have seen what Anderson Silva did to Delikado, and that Delikado made you look like a bitch.
”Final warning…”
Dan White: Come anyways! You’re making enough cash. It’ll be good for the craic. There’s nobody to talk footy with in APW.
Sgt. Pilko: But the Tyne/Wear Derby’s coming up soon! I cannae miss the Derby!
Dan White: And I’m missing my lot win promotion for the first time in a billion years! Howay, it’ll be ace to come to South America!
Pilko ponders it, and I mean really thinks about it long and hard for a good couple of seconds.
Sgt. Pilko: Well, when are you flying out? I’ve got some time off, can probably tour for a couple of months or so. It’s all done electronically anyways. I’ve even got one of those camp little wireless phone thingies you stick in your ear!
Dan White: Get you, Mr. Agent! Errr, I’m flying back out on Tuesday, fighting on the Thursday in Panama City. So, you in?
Sgt. Pilko: Aye why not? It’ll be a laugh.
Dan White: Haha, nice one! Well get your ticket booked, and we’ll have a proper session later to say goodbye to these fine lands!
There’s a hint of sarcasm in Dan’s tone and Pilko is quick to pick up on it. It’s odd for a man who professes such love for his home nation to be sarcastic and rather callous about it. Pilko calls Dan out as he takes a seat, with a more serious tone this time.
Sgt. Pilko: So what’s the crack, then? Must have known when you decide to come back for just a couple of days over the bloody Atlantic that something wasn’t right. You’ve not got into shit with the firms again, have you?
Dan reluctantly takes a deep breath and slumps into a chair, knowing that this could take a while.
Dan White: Well you know the reason I went back to wrestling, don’t you? It’s cos of the money problems. Aye, I was doing alright and stuff after ACW closed down, went down the whole punditry route but I wasn’t exactly making as much money as I thought I was. I know, I’ve always needed an accountant and you don’t need to tell me that shit, cos I know it’s true. I’m not good with money and I never have been. Anyways without sponsorships and all those perks, yeah, I wasn’t quite making as much as I used to. Still six figures, aye. But not a massive amount. Anyways I managed to find a way to piss it up the wall.
Sgt. Pilko: Drugs?
Dan White: No.
Sgt. Pilko: Hookers?
Dan White: No.
Sgt. Pilko: Booze?
Dan White: Oh come on. Even people on the dole can be pissheads. You don’t drink yourself to owing a shit ton of money.
Sgt. Pilko: Depends what you’re drinking?
Dan White: Like what.
Sgt. Pilko: Crystal.
Dan White: I hate champagne. You know that.
Sgt. Pilko: Errrrr. Whisky?
Dan White: I hate that too! I’ll drink it but I hate it! Anyways you clown, it was gambling.
Pilko is taken back a little by this.
Sgt. Pilko: ….Seriously, you had a gambling problem?
Dan White: Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaah
Sgt. Pilko: What the hell were you betting on to get in such debt?
Dan White: Oh, just this and that. It was like, I’d call up and be all “I’ll stick allll this money on Shrewsbury to win” in the 90th minute and then they’d let in an equaliser. You know, micro betting. Didn’t really work though.
Sgt. Pilko: Fucking evidently! You’ve not downsized though. I thought the banks would have taken stuff off you?
Dan White: Nah they can’t, I’m up to date with the banks. It’s just other folk who like to dip their grubby little mitts into other people’s livelihoods. Sharks. You know the type.
Sgt. Pilko: Aye because I work with half of them, but that’s not to say I get on their wrong side. For fuck’s sake you daft fool, what the hell were you thinking? I thought you were smarter than that! Getting in with illegal betting?
Dan White: Well it wasn’t my fault!
Sgt. Pilko: Then who’s fault was it?
Dan White: ….Hang on a second, you’re four years younger than me. Why the hell am I taking a telling off from you?
Dan gets up in frustration, and grabs some more clothes off the horse, chucking them in a nearby suitcase.
Dan White: I’m making decent money with APW anyways, more if I’d been on that bloody Rasslemania card but that’s not the point….I’m making decent money and by the time I’m back in this country I’ll no doubt have enough to pay them off. Look, I don’t need to worry about it. They don’t know where I live and lord knows they’re not gonna come after me when I’m travelling with APW.
Sgt. Pilko: Who is it?
Dan White: Ah, no secrets here but it’s just some wannabe pretender from Port Talbot. Fucking hurts though that I can’t even enjoy my own country or see my kids or owt for a decent period of time. Or even go on the pull without the threat of being kidnapped and summarily executed with a gun.
Pilko gives his older brother a look of sheer distain.
Sgt. Pilko: What? Execution? What kind of dickhead do you owe money to?
Dan White: A dickhead who could have ties with the IRA. No biggy though, those guys aren’t as strong as they once were.
Sgt. Pilko: They’re still the IR fucking A! Doesn’t matter how strong they used to be if you owe money they’re still gonna find you!
Dan White: He’s not IRA, he’s just associated with them. That could mean anything! He could be against them for all we know…
Sgt. Pilko: And how true is that likely to be?
Dan White: Admittedly not very. But hey, I’ve not been attacked yet, have I? And I think there’s a few pints with my name on it. Look, they’re not gonna attack the riverside, are they. I think they’re just waiting until I decide to take a single stroll up the Welsh Highlands or something. So honestly, please, don’t worry about it. Let’s get ready for a night out.
Sgt. Pilko shakes his head with disgust, although he’s keen to the idea of having a night out. He gets up, and makes his way to the spare bedroom to get ready, and enjoy a final night out in the UK before embarking on the never-ending APW tour!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
3rd April 2013
Panama City, Panama
We open up in the backstage of the Roberto Duran Arena. It’s still one night before Overdrive resumes following Rasslemania, but one such competitor is keen to make his voice heard. Yup, Mr. White is early and sober as he gets ready to address the APW faithful. Sunglasses on (it’s a damn sight hotter in Central America than it is in South Wales), he has a microphone in hand. No interviewer necessary. Just Dan and a camera.
Dan White: So after all of the furore, Dan White, myself, made it to Rasslemania to open the show. It was broadcast LIVE to the masses, live in front of a FREE audience. Well, as long as you had won a computer in a raffle and you sponged free internet off your neighbour’s unsecure connection. ANYWAYS, it was live, it was free, and you all witnessed yours truly fail to defeat Legion and Delikado.
And yes it was a defeat that hit quite hard. My first Pay per View. I wasn’t on the main card but it was MY time to SHINE. And I failed to win. Sure, I failed to win. And that was pretty gutting, but I can take positives from this. Unless you’re some kind of steroid-inhaling freak or you’re sucking dick you do not walk into a company and maintain a ridiculous winning record that goes on for shows, for weeks and for months. You don’t. It’s been a learning curve so far. I’ve won one, and lost one, and I was reminded what happens when you fight with two little winnet diggers who have a chip on their shoulders. So yeah, basically a handicap match, your fan favourite gets slapped about, and Deli is too good for Legion and takes the victory. It was hard to take, but I can’t have expected any favours from Legion. I mean look at him, some pathetic drugged-up Sid Vicious wannabe. And I’m not talking about our favourite one-legged bandit either. But Delikado won, and I was pinned. That’s fine. That’s okay. Tomorrow night he could be World Champion so for better or for worse, I can deal with losing to him at this stage in my APW career.
Legion, however. Now this is a different story, Legion my boy. You’ve got a name like a crap Roman wannabe, which makes two things you wish you were but you’re not. And you’re not causing any empiric type of domination here on Overdrive. In fact, have you even won yet? I’m guessing you’re only around to make people feel good about themselves. Well, if kicking your arse round Panama means I’m getting another win under my belt and a title shot as well then, aye, I’ll feel pretty fucking good about it as well. The Xtreme Title, a little too “oh my god how Hardcore am I!!!” scene kid style of a name for my liking but hey, if it’s an ends to a means, I guess wearing it around for a little while wouldn’t hurt. Might give me a bit of extra cash as well!
Tell you what, Panama is a lovely city and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. It’s beautiful, can a fantastic spirit about the place, and isn’t infested with murder and drugs like its neighbours left and right. Probably because of the massive fucking rainforest and the canal that stops people travelling through here so much. But Panama is good, and undervalued. Something that owes so much to the world that is so underappreciated. I’d bet that there’s more people in the world that know of the Panama Canal than people that know that Panama is even a country. And it’s nice to be away from more generic countries, and really get my feet dirty. I was last here about seven years ago, and that feels like a long damn time! Back then I was a daft kid trying to impress as many people as I could, and I wasn’t really doing a great job of it. You could call it Rocky Maivia heat, if you want. Anyways, back then I realised the whole wrestling thing wasn’t working, took a break that lasted about eighteen months, and returned to become one of the world’s stars. I had another break, and eighteen months later, I’m back! And here in Panama City! What an astounding coincidence! And sadly for Mr. Legion, my career isn’t regressing, oh no. This bad boy’s just getting started again!
And it’s starting tomorrow night! Xtreme Title, it could be the Binlids Trampoline Championship for all I care about. But this is what it’s about. Glory, and stepping up to the mark. You conspired to have me beat the first time, but I promise you, this won’t happen again. Unlike last time I have skill on my side. Have you ever even been in a Hardcore-style match? I mean you look the type that’s done the whole “I’m a big emo please cry for me” shtick. Have you cut your wrists? Was it a serious attempt, a cry for attention or just another one of those stupid fucking ideologies that kids have these days that self-harm is a cool thing to do. Whatever the answer is, I’m pretty sure I can supply you with some harm of my own. I’ll have Matilda to one side and the Eggheads on the other, and it’ll be a doddle. And you don’t have to worry about my little brother either. He’s got no interest in this sport anymore, he’s here for his own reasons. Trust me, I’m not crap enough to need help in carting your gutless, sorry body into a shallow grave like a disobedient member of a drugs cartel.
And after that? Well who knows. There’s a new sheriff in town so that’ll be interesting. Will my title shot be next week? The week after? At when and wherever the hell the next Pay per View is? Who knows. All I care about is doing my own thing and maybe I’ll get noticed. Who knows? And that brings me to my final point, Legion. You see you once mentioned to me that you’ve been everywhere, to quote Jonny Cash, as you always have. A bunch of meaningless capital letters that could be anything from a wrestling promotion to a fucking ticket machine abbreviation. Same with my career, same with most people’s career. In our business, there are more damn companies than boxing so there’s no point wallowing in the past. And before you go all nit-picky no, I’m not wallowing, I’m reminiscing and there’s a difference. There’s a massive difference in wishing the past was present and remembering the good times of the past. I’m doing the latter, and while they’re fond moments, I know they’re gone. And I’m here, making my own memories in APW. I don’t care if you’ve never heard of me because frankly I’d never heard of you prior to joining here.
So let’s go. Quite unusual that the APW would have me booked against you three times in a row but that’s fine. That’s okay. I may have fucked up the first opportunity and been a victim of a conspiracy in the second, but when it’s one on one, you don’t have a rat’s chance in hell. And that, my friend, is a right…
…touch…
Dan gives a smirk to the camera, and quickly changes it to a grimacing stare, before making a swift exit left, right or wherever the hell you want Dan to go.
Let’s go!
