Post by A.C. Smith on Aug 6, 2013 22:27:35 GMT -4
Our scene opens today in one of the most controlled environments possible: A hospital waiting room, specifically one at Temple University Hospital in Philadelphia. This week, the City of Brotherly Love (for everyone except Mike Schmidt) plays host to Overdrive, but today, we see the furthest thing from the balls-to-the-wall action that brand is known for, even though one of its Megastars is sitting right in front of the camera.
The Big Apple Asskicker, A.C. Smith, is reading a weeks-old edition of Sports Illustrated while sitting next to a water cooler. The magazine acts as more of a disguise than anything else, and it seems to be working, as several visitors pass the APW Xtreme Champion by in filling up their plastic containers.
This continues for several moments, up until Smith looks off-screen and does a double-take.
A.C.: “...Roxie? What are you doing here?”
The camera pans right, and indeed, we see Roxanne, who has just parked her beloved baby blue Mustang in an adjacent garage. She smiles and sits down next to her boyfriend, having done something very few wrestlers have ever accomplished: Surprising A.C. Smith.
Roxanne: “I thought you could use the company.”
A.C.: “You didn't have to come up here. I've got Bobby and Stevie...”
Roxanne: “Who I saw making photocopies of their asses in the other room.”
Smith rolls his eyes, not totally surprised at this development.
Roxanne: “How're you feeling?”
A.C.: “The same as I did during Overdrive last week: Totally fine. Nothing's wrong with me, and I don't expect the doctors to tell me any differently when my results come in.”
A pause.
A.C.: “You don't believe me.”
Roxanne: “It's not that. It's that I don't believe you'd tell me any differently if you were lying.
“You can let me in, you know. You don't have to have your guard up all the time.”
Roxanne puts her right hand on A.C.'s left thigh, and it's shortly totally engulfed in the large paws of A.C. Smith.
Roxanne: “When is all this going to be enough? You've done everything...”
Smith shoots Roxanne a look. Not a demeaning one, but one that makes it clear he's biting his tongue, and hard.
Roxanne: “Okay, ALMOST everything, that you could ever want to do. You've had a career anyone else in this business would envy, and you sure as hell don't need the money or the fame. Why keep banging your head against the wall?”
A.C.: “Wrong turn of phrase to use right now.”
Roxanne begrudgingly smiles.
Roxanne: “You know what I mean. At some point, the body that's been put through so much is going to give out, and the people that care about you and worry about you are going to wind up having to do everything just to get you to where you can live a semi-normal life.”
A.C.: “You're worrying too much, Roxie. Look at me.”
Roxanne looks up, with a couple of stray tears forming in her eyes.
A.C.: “When it's time for me to walk away, I'll know. And when I know, you're going to be the first person I tell. I promise you that. But right now, I'm enjoying what I do. I'm still damn good at it, and I'm doing something very few can say they've ever done in carrying my Xtreme Championship for as long as I have.
“At some point, what I do will cease to be fun for me. And that will be when I say, 'Enough is enough.' But that point hasn't come yet, and when the doctor comes to me and clears me, I'm going to get right back to business. Not sure if you've seen, but I've got a big match coming up this Thursday night.”
Roxanne: “Yeah, I know.”
It's clear that Roxanne, while holding A.C.'s hand, just listened to an answer she did not want to hear. Smith realizes this, too, and the Big Apple Asskicker squeezes his girlfriend's hand just a bit tighter.
A.C.: “I really appreciate you coming here. Thank you.”
Roxanne: “You're welcome. I hope you're okay. I really do. But I can't stop worrying about some time from now, when you tell me you're fine and you're being eaten alive by something. I can't deal with that, and you need to promise me that that will never happen.”
Smith immediately looks Roxanne in the eyes and delivers his response with absolutely no hesitation.
A.C.: “It's a promise.”
Roxanne's stern demeanor yields to a slight smile, and the two share a quick kiss that acts as a handshake of sorts. That stops, though, when an older gentleman with a manila folder walks into the shot.
Man: “Excuse me, Mr. Smith? I have your test results here.”
A.C.: “Well, lay it on us, Doctor...”
Man: “Doctor Norton. Paul Norton.”
The doctor pulls up a chair and opens the folder, giving the charts a quick once-over before speaking again.
Dr. Norton: “Well, you're fine, and I can clear you for an immediate return to action.”
Smith smirks, nodding his head as if he knew that diagnosis was coming.
Dr. Norton: “Are you experiencing any pain since the test? I see you've been reading a little.”
A.C.: “Nope, no pain. Lights aren't bothering me, either, and I know that's something you guys look for.”
Dr. Norton: “Good. That's very encouraging.
“I should tell you, though, that my door is always open. Here's my card. If you experience any symptoms, any pain, any fatigue or weakness that wasn't there before, call me anytime.”
The doctor hands over a small piece of paper, which Smith receives and stores in the front right pocket of his blue jeans.
A.C.: “So I'm free to go?”
Dr. Norton: “Right after you sign some paperwork, which my assistant is printing out as we speak.”
A.C.: “Great. Roxie, I'm just going to get Bobby and Stevie.”
Roxanne: “They're in the cafeteria.”
A.C.: “But what about the photocopier?”
Roxanne: “Yeah, that was a joke.”
Smith chuckles, shaking the doctor's hand before power-walking out of the shot.
Roxanne: “Doctor, before you leave...is he okay?”
Dr. Norton: “For now, yes. Are you his wife?”
Roxanne: “Girlfriend.”
Dr. Norton: “Just keep an eye on him. He's in a high-intensity work environment, and while he'll have no ill effects from last week going forward, there's no guaranteeing he'll be fine if a similar situation springs up down the road.”
Roxanne: “Noted. Thanks.”
Dr. Norton nods and walks out of the shot just as A.C., Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch, and Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker appear.
A.C.: “We ready to go?”
Bobby: “Yeah. That cheesesteak sucked; let's go someplace where they actually know how to make them.”
Stevie: “Well, it's Philly, so a place like that shouldn't be too hard to find.”
Smith pulls out a pen, signing several pieces of paper on a clipboard before handing them to a young intern. A.C., Bobby, and Stevie step out of the shot, and after a second or two, the always-concerned Roxanne follows as our scene fades to black.
---
We fade back up on A.C. Smith standing next to an American landmark: The Liberty Bell. Long a symbol of American history and the city of Philadelphia, today it represents something a bit different.
Smiling, Smith looks into the camera and opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “It's nice to be back in Philadelphia. Some of you may remember that I had one of the biggest wins of my APW career here last year. It was the lead-up to Test for the Best, and it was right here in Philly where I outlasted Nick Watson, Mark Mania, and Slade Craven to earn the final spot in that year's tournament.
“This time around, I'm the hunted instead of the hunter. I'm putting my Xtreme Championship on the line in another multi-way match, this one featuring Robina Hood and Leon Roberts. Am I fazed by what happened last week? Am I nervous about the chance of losing my title without factoring in the decision? The answer to both questions is a resounding no.”
Smith shakes his head in accompaniment with that statement before continuing.
A.C.: “Anyone saying I'm less than 100 percent heading into Overdrive this Thursday night is dead wrong. I'm coming into this match as focused as I've ever been in my life, and for that matter, that statement can be used to summarize my reign as Xtreme Champion. Anyone doubting my abilities need only look at the last seven-plus months here in APW, where many have tried and failed to take my title.
“This week, Robina Hood and Leon Roberts get added to this list, and not because they don't have promising careers ahead of them. For all anyone knows, they very well might. But answer me this question: What will they present on Overdrive that I HAVEN'T seen before?”
Smith pauses, letting that question resonate for a moment.
A.C.: “Hell, look at Leon Roberts, who's been a thorn in my side for several weeks. We locked up for the first time last week, and I didn't just beat him. I destroyed him, beating him as cleanly as humanly possible. I told him for weeks on end that he was in no way, shape, or form above me or better than me, and last week, I proved that with the same kind of effort I've been giving since 2012 ended and 2013 began.
“This may have acted like a wake-up call for our buddy Mr. Roberts, but I doubt it. He's probably off trying to find some way to save face after last week's humiliation, something that signifies that what happened last week wasn't a result of him just not being good enough. Who knows, maybe he's found something in his alphabet soup that's given him something to blame it on?
“The problem is, though, that nothing can change in a week. Our match last week was so one-sided that he's got a mountain to climb just to make it to Shockwave, where another miserable defeat awaits him. And what's he going to do this week? Hide in a corner and hope I don't hurt him? Use a different plan of attack he's not used to in a bad attempt at saving face? Go at me the same way in the textbook definition of insanity, doing things in the same fashion while hoping for a different result?
“Any way you slice it, Leon Roberts bit off WAY more than he could chew when he challenged the Big Apple Asskicker. He went after one of the biggest dogs in the yard, thinking he was in a position to knock me off. Instead, he's going to do the same thing Michael Lively, Nathaniel Havok, Delikado, Buckson Gooch and others have been resigned to: Going back to his kennel with his tail between his legs, wondering how the hell everything went so wrong.”
Smith chuckles at memories of his past conquests, rolling his brown eyes for good measure.
A.C.: “Then we go to Robina Hood. Admittedly, my only dealings with her were in the run-up to this year's Test for the Best, and our actual interaction was limited because we wound up on opposite sides of the bracket. Still, I got an impression of her that doesn't exactly scream, 'XTREME CHAMPION!!!'
“Make no mistake, the woman has talent. She wound up as the North American Champion, and with Meltdown as tough as it was, that's not an easy thing to do. Still, she's been hit with a problem that's undone dozens of my opponents over the years, which is an enhanced sense of her own self-worth.
“Last week, before that REALLY weird six-man match, she called herself, let's see, an irresistible force. Those are powerful words for someone who's won one title and rarely had to defend it. You know what an irresistible force is? It's what I've been these past seven months. Ever since I beat Nick Watson in late-December, I haven't just beaten every challenger to my Xtreme title. I've DOMINATED them, leaving no doubt who the better man was when all was said and done.
Irresistible forces are APW Hall of Famers like Michael Lively, who I beat three times and sent all the way to Asylum. Irresistible forces are guys like Nathaniel Havok, who claimed he'd never lost the Xtreme Championship before I left him a bloody mess at Mayhem. Hell, even guys like Delikado and Buckson Gooch were forces in their own right when I retained my title against them.”
Smith's nostrils flare a bit, and we see a stray vein or two begin to rise closer to his skin on his thick neck. He takes a deep breath, but recomposes himself before speaking again.
A.C.: “Robina Hood thinks she's WAY better than she is. That doesn't mean she's not good, but it DOES mean that she's in a questionable mental state heading into our match on Thursday night here in Philly. I didn't get to where I am today by coasting, by thinking that I was so far above everyone else on the APW roster. I got here by adapting, by learning from my setbacks, and by using my experiences to my advantage.
“I've heard her shtick before, by wrestlers who were WAY more qualified to be spouting that stuff than she is. Guys that had won everything there was to win, and thought I was some big, dumb oaf who they wouldn't break a sweat dispatching. Instead, the joke was on them, and while so many of my old opponents have fallen by the wayside, I'm standing tall, still with the APW Xtreme Championship around my waist, and still taking on all comers who think they can take it from me.
“Judging by what she said a few weeks ago before Test for the Best, she doesn't think highly of me. Hell, she said I was a broken record that couldn't bother to get myself fixed. As usual, she was dead wrong, as I beat Jair Hopkins before giving C.J. Gates all he could handle.”
Smith eyes the Liberty Bell, more specifically the huge crack that has defined the structure for decades.
A.C.: “See this bell here? If it wasn't cracked, nobody would care about it. It'd just be an old landmark in a city that's full of them, and people would pass it by without giving it much thought. But because it's cracked, it's got character it wouldn't otherwise have.
“It's weird, but that's sort of the way I've always seen myself. I'm not perfect, nor have I ever claimed to be. I've got my share of baggage that's come with having an 11-year career, and I've been through some stuff that I wouldn't wish on my own worst enemy. But in spite of all that, I'm here, still moving forward, and still among the best in the world in my chosen profession.
“I'm not Robina Hood, who's fallen in love with her own manufactured reflection. I'm not Leon Roberts, who will never have answers to all of the questions that resulted from his loss to me last week. I'm the Big Apple Asskicker, A.C. Smith, one of the best Xtreme Champions Action Packed Wrestling has ever had and a guy that's in no hurry to drop the belt.”
Smith reaches out, and his long right arm grazes the bell as his hand taps it a few times.
A.C.: “I know a lot of people, Robina Hood and Leon Roberts included, who want what I've had since late-December. My response has always been the same. In the words of the band Badfinger, if you want it, here it is, come and get it.
“I've never shied away from a single challenge or challenger in my time as Xtreme Champion, and that trend isn't stopping this week. In the same city where I earned one of the biggest wins of my APW career last year, I have every intention of going out there and getting the job done against two hungry, but flawed, challengers.
“Make no mistake. I'm not at all hurt as a result of last week. I'm as sharp as I've ever been, and I look forward to showing that Thursday night. Robina Hood? Leon Roberts? Be ready.”
The camera zooms out, and we see Smith join his trio of friends. The group walks away from the Liberty Bell as our scene fades to black.
The Big Apple Asskicker, A.C. Smith, is reading a weeks-old edition of Sports Illustrated while sitting next to a water cooler. The magazine acts as more of a disguise than anything else, and it seems to be working, as several visitors pass the APW Xtreme Champion by in filling up their plastic containers.
This continues for several moments, up until Smith looks off-screen and does a double-take.
A.C.: “...Roxie? What are you doing here?”
The camera pans right, and indeed, we see Roxanne, who has just parked her beloved baby blue Mustang in an adjacent garage. She smiles and sits down next to her boyfriend, having done something very few wrestlers have ever accomplished: Surprising A.C. Smith.
Roxanne: “I thought you could use the company.”
A.C.: “You didn't have to come up here. I've got Bobby and Stevie...”
Roxanne: “Who I saw making photocopies of their asses in the other room.”
Smith rolls his eyes, not totally surprised at this development.
Roxanne: “How're you feeling?”
A.C.: “The same as I did during Overdrive last week: Totally fine. Nothing's wrong with me, and I don't expect the doctors to tell me any differently when my results come in.”
A pause.
A.C.: “You don't believe me.”
Roxanne: “It's not that. It's that I don't believe you'd tell me any differently if you were lying.
“You can let me in, you know. You don't have to have your guard up all the time.”
Roxanne puts her right hand on A.C.'s left thigh, and it's shortly totally engulfed in the large paws of A.C. Smith.
Roxanne: “When is all this going to be enough? You've done everything...”
Smith shoots Roxanne a look. Not a demeaning one, but one that makes it clear he's biting his tongue, and hard.
Roxanne: “Okay, ALMOST everything, that you could ever want to do. You've had a career anyone else in this business would envy, and you sure as hell don't need the money or the fame. Why keep banging your head against the wall?”
A.C.: “Wrong turn of phrase to use right now.”
Roxanne begrudgingly smiles.
Roxanne: “You know what I mean. At some point, the body that's been put through so much is going to give out, and the people that care about you and worry about you are going to wind up having to do everything just to get you to where you can live a semi-normal life.”
A.C.: “You're worrying too much, Roxie. Look at me.”
Roxanne looks up, with a couple of stray tears forming in her eyes.
A.C.: “When it's time for me to walk away, I'll know. And when I know, you're going to be the first person I tell. I promise you that. But right now, I'm enjoying what I do. I'm still damn good at it, and I'm doing something very few can say they've ever done in carrying my Xtreme Championship for as long as I have.
“At some point, what I do will cease to be fun for me. And that will be when I say, 'Enough is enough.' But that point hasn't come yet, and when the doctor comes to me and clears me, I'm going to get right back to business. Not sure if you've seen, but I've got a big match coming up this Thursday night.”
Roxanne: “Yeah, I know.”
It's clear that Roxanne, while holding A.C.'s hand, just listened to an answer she did not want to hear. Smith realizes this, too, and the Big Apple Asskicker squeezes his girlfriend's hand just a bit tighter.
A.C.: “I really appreciate you coming here. Thank you.”
Roxanne: “You're welcome. I hope you're okay. I really do. But I can't stop worrying about some time from now, when you tell me you're fine and you're being eaten alive by something. I can't deal with that, and you need to promise me that that will never happen.”
Smith immediately looks Roxanne in the eyes and delivers his response with absolutely no hesitation.
A.C.: “It's a promise.”
Roxanne's stern demeanor yields to a slight smile, and the two share a quick kiss that acts as a handshake of sorts. That stops, though, when an older gentleman with a manila folder walks into the shot.
Man: “Excuse me, Mr. Smith? I have your test results here.”
A.C.: “Well, lay it on us, Doctor...”
Man: “Doctor Norton. Paul Norton.”
The doctor pulls up a chair and opens the folder, giving the charts a quick once-over before speaking again.
Dr. Norton: “Well, you're fine, and I can clear you for an immediate return to action.”
Smith smirks, nodding his head as if he knew that diagnosis was coming.
Dr. Norton: “Are you experiencing any pain since the test? I see you've been reading a little.”
A.C.: “Nope, no pain. Lights aren't bothering me, either, and I know that's something you guys look for.”
Dr. Norton: “Good. That's very encouraging.
“I should tell you, though, that my door is always open. Here's my card. If you experience any symptoms, any pain, any fatigue or weakness that wasn't there before, call me anytime.”
The doctor hands over a small piece of paper, which Smith receives and stores in the front right pocket of his blue jeans.
A.C.: “So I'm free to go?”
Dr. Norton: “Right after you sign some paperwork, which my assistant is printing out as we speak.”
A.C.: “Great. Roxie, I'm just going to get Bobby and Stevie.”
Roxanne: “They're in the cafeteria.”
A.C.: “But what about the photocopier?”
Roxanne: “Yeah, that was a joke.”
Smith chuckles, shaking the doctor's hand before power-walking out of the shot.
Roxanne: “Doctor, before you leave...is he okay?”
Dr. Norton: “For now, yes. Are you his wife?”
Roxanne: “Girlfriend.”
Dr. Norton: “Just keep an eye on him. He's in a high-intensity work environment, and while he'll have no ill effects from last week going forward, there's no guaranteeing he'll be fine if a similar situation springs up down the road.”
Roxanne: “Noted. Thanks.”
Dr. Norton nods and walks out of the shot just as A.C., Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch, and Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker appear.
A.C.: “We ready to go?”
Bobby: “Yeah. That cheesesteak sucked; let's go someplace where they actually know how to make them.”
Stevie: “Well, it's Philly, so a place like that shouldn't be too hard to find.”
Smith pulls out a pen, signing several pieces of paper on a clipboard before handing them to a young intern. A.C., Bobby, and Stevie step out of the shot, and after a second or two, the always-concerned Roxanne follows as our scene fades to black.
---
We fade back up on A.C. Smith standing next to an American landmark: The Liberty Bell. Long a symbol of American history and the city of Philadelphia, today it represents something a bit different.
Smiling, Smith looks into the camera and opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “It's nice to be back in Philadelphia. Some of you may remember that I had one of the biggest wins of my APW career here last year. It was the lead-up to Test for the Best, and it was right here in Philly where I outlasted Nick Watson, Mark Mania, and Slade Craven to earn the final spot in that year's tournament.
“This time around, I'm the hunted instead of the hunter. I'm putting my Xtreme Championship on the line in another multi-way match, this one featuring Robina Hood and Leon Roberts. Am I fazed by what happened last week? Am I nervous about the chance of losing my title without factoring in the decision? The answer to both questions is a resounding no.”
Smith shakes his head in accompaniment with that statement before continuing.
A.C.: “Anyone saying I'm less than 100 percent heading into Overdrive this Thursday night is dead wrong. I'm coming into this match as focused as I've ever been in my life, and for that matter, that statement can be used to summarize my reign as Xtreme Champion. Anyone doubting my abilities need only look at the last seven-plus months here in APW, where many have tried and failed to take my title.
“This week, Robina Hood and Leon Roberts get added to this list, and not because they don't have promising careers ahead of them. For all anyone knows, they very well might. But answer me this question: What will they present on Overdrive that I HAVEN'T seen before?”
Smith pauses, letting that question resonate for a moment.
A.C.: “Hell, look at Leon Roberts, who's been a thorn in my side for several weeks. We locked up for the first time last week, and I didn't just beat him. I destroyed him, beating him as cleanly as humanly possible. I told him for weeks on end that he was in no way, shape, or form above me or better than me, and last week, I proved that with the same kind of effort I've been giving since 2012 ended and 2013 began.
“This may have acted like a wake-up call for our buddy Mr. Roberts, but I doubt it. He's probably off trying to find some way to save face after last week's humiliation, something that signifies that what happened last week wasn't a result of him just not being good enough. Who knows, maybe he's found something in his alphabet soup that's given him something to blame it on?
“The problem is, though, that nothing can change in a week. Our match last week was so one-sided that he's got a mountain to climb just to make it to Shockwave, where another miserable defeat awaits him. And what's he going to do this week? Hide in a corner and hope I don't hurt him? Use a different plan of attack he's not used to in a bad attempt at saving face? Go at me the same way in the textbook definition of insanity, doing things in the same fashion while hoping for a different result?
“Any way you slice it, Leon Roberts bit off WAY more than he could chew when he challenged the Big Apple Asskicker. He went after one of the biggest dogs in the yard, thinking he was in a position to knock me off. Instead, he's going to do the same thing Michael Lively, Nathaniel Havok, Delikado, Buckson Gooch and others have been resigned to: Going back to his kennel with his tail between his legs, wondering how the hell everything went so wrong.”
Smith chuckles at memories of his past conquests, rolling his brown eyes for good measure.
A.C.: “Then we go to Robina Hood. Admittedly, my only dealings with her were in the run-up to this year's Test for the Best, and our actual interaction was limited because we wound up on opposite sides of the bracket. Still, I got an impression of her that doesn't exactly scream, 'XTREME CHAMPION!!!'
“Make no mistake, the woman has talent. She wound up as the North American Champion, and with Meltdown as tough as it was, that's not an easy thing to do. Still, she's been hit with a problem that's undone dozens of my opponents over the years, which is an enhanced sense of her own self-worth.
“Last week, before that REALLY weird six-man match, she called herself, let's see, an irresistible force. Those are powerful words for someone who's won one title and rarely had to defend it. You know what an irresistible force is? It's what I've been these past seven months. Ever since I beat Nick Watson in late-December, I haven't just beaten every challenger to my Xtreme title. I've DOMINATED them, leaving no doubt who the better man was when all was said and done.
Irresistible forces are APW Hall of Famers like Michael Lively, who I beat three times and sent all the way to Asylum. Irresistible forces are guys like Nathaniel Havok, who claimed he'd never lost the Xtreme Championship before I left him a bloody mess at Mayhem. Hell, even guys like Delikado and Buckson Gooch were forces in their own right when I retained my title against them.”
Smith's nostrils flare a bit, and we see a stray vein or two begin to rise closer to his skin on his thick neck. He takes a deep breath, but recomposes himself before speaking again.
A.C.: “Robina Hood thinks she's WAY better than she is. That doesn't mean she's not good, but it DOES mean that she's in a questionable mental state heading into our match on Thursday night here in Philly. I didn't get to where I am today by coasting, by thinking that I was so far above everyone else on the APW roster. I got here by adapting, by learning from my setbacks, and by using my experiences to my advantage.
“I've heard her shtick before, by wrestlers who were WAY more qualified to be spouting that stuff than she is. Guys that had won everything there was to win, and thought I was some big, dumb oaf who they wouldn't break a sweat dispatching. Instead, the joke was on them, and while so many of my old opponents have fallen by the wayside, I'm standing tall, still with the APW Xtreme Championship around my waist, and still taking on all comers who think they can take it from me.
“Judging by what she said a few weeks ago before Test for the Best, she doesn't think highly of me. Hell, she said I was a broken record that couldn't bother to get myself fixed. As usual, she was dead wrong, as I beat Jair Hopkins before giving C.J. Gates all he could handle.”
Smith eyes the Liberty Bell, more specifically the huge crack that has defined the structure for decades.
A.C.: “See this bell here? If it wasn't cracked, nobody would care about it. It'd just be an old landmark in a city that's full of them, and people would pass it by without giving it much thought. But because it's cracked, it's got character it wouldn't otherwise have.
“It's weird, but that's sort of the way I've always seen myself. I'm not perfect, nor have I ever claimed to be. I've got my share of baggage that's come with having an 11-year career, and I've been through some stuff that I wouldn't wish on my own worst enemy. But in spite of all that, I'm here, still moving forward, and still among the best in the world in my chosen profession.
“I'm not Robina Hood, who's fallen in love with her own manufactured reflection. I'm not Leon Roberts, who will never have answers to all of the questions that resulted from his loss to me last week. I'm the Big Apple Asskicker, A.C. Smith, one of the best Xtreme Champions Action Packed Wrestling has ever had and a guy that's in no hurry to drop the belt.”
Smith reaches out, and his long right arm grazes the bell as his hand taps it a few times.
A.C.: “I know a lot of people, Robina Hood and Leon Roberts included, who want what I've had since late-December. My response has always been the same. In the words of the band Badfinger, if you want it, here it is, come and get it.
“I've never shied away from a single challenge or challenger in my time as Xtreme Champion, and that trend isn't stopping this week. In the same city where I earned one of the biggest wins of my APW career last year, I have every intention of going out there and getting the job done against two hungry, but flawed, challengers.
“Make no mistake. I'm not at all hurt as a result of last week. I'm as sharp as I've ever been, and I look forward to showing that Thursday night. Robina Hood? Leon Roberts? Be ready.”
The camera zooms out, and we see Smith join his trio of friends. The group walks away from the Liberty Bell as our scene fades to black.
