Post by A.C. Smith on Sept 25, 2013 18:37:02 GMT -4
Our scene opens today in a hotel suite. Sunlight coming in from the window also illuminates the Scandinavian city of Helsinki, Finland, which sits about 10 floors below where we are right now.
In the foreground are both A.C. Smith and Roxanne. Smith's APW Xtreme Championship belt hangs over his shoulder, and a smile that matches Roxanne's makes its way to his face. Shortly, we hear why, as, from behind a closed and locked door on the right side of the screen...
BLEAH!!!!!
The sound of vomit grosses Roxanne out, but the smile doesn't leave her face when she sees the Big Apple Asskicker laughing.
A.C.: “NOW do you believe me about the effects of jet lag, boys?”
Voice: “Shut up...oh, god!”
More vomiting, and this time, we hear a second heave. At this point, we're convinced that both Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch and Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker are behind the door and haven't taken the time difference too well.
Roxanne: “Should've come out early with us!”
Bobby: “And pass up tickets to the Jets game to get sexiled every night halfway across the world? I don't think so!”
A.C.: “What a coincidence, Roxie. They see the Bills throw up on the field Sunday, and now THEY'RE throwing up themselves. Fascinating.”
Stevie: “None of this would've happened if we'd had a competent pilot who didn't hit EVERY patch of rough air between Heathrow and Helsinki...god, MOVE!”
A third heave is heard, and this time, Roxie can't help but join Smith in raucous laughter. A couple of moments later, we hear water running, and Bobby and Stevie flush the toilet while rinsing their mouths out.
A.C.: “For God's sake, spray some air freshener in there, too.”
Bobby: “Yes, master. Watch it or we'll give you a swirley in that toilet.”
A.C.: “I'd like to see you try.”
Stevie: “There's still two of us and only one of you!”
Roxanne: “Not true. You think I want my man's head going where you just barfed? You'll keep your hands off him!”
Silence for a moment before the bathroom door opens. Everyone is in agreement that what Roxanne says goes, and as a result, the behavior of those in the room suddenly changes.
A.C.: “Um...yeah. What she said.
“You guys alright?”
Bobby: “Other than still on New York time? Just swell, A.C.”
Stevie: “Why do they insist on sending you out here, anyway? Don't they know Japan's on the OTHER side of the world, and that THAT'S where One Night in Hell is?”
A.C.: “Oh, stop it. This is a chance to see the world, explore new places, to boldly go where no man has gone before...”
Roxanne: (rolling her eyes) “OK, Captain Kirk.”
A.C.: “...and you're going to let a little jet lag sour you on all that?”
Bobby: “All we're saying is that Helsinki isn't exactly on the A-list of destinations as far as the APW calendar goes. Paris? Fine. Athens? Cool. Barcelona? Bueno.”
A.C.: “But Helsinki?”
Stevie: “Hell no!”
Each member of the group lets out their own, distinctive chuckles. However, the laughter subsides when A.C.'s iPhone begisn vibrating around a central, glass table.
A.C.: “Hello?...Oh, hey Charlie...Yeah, I've got a couple minutes, what's up?...Oh, you did?...What'd he say?...Really?...Well, that's interesting...Yeah, keep me posted...Thanks again...Bye.”
Smith drags his monstrous right thumb across the bottom of the screen before his right index finger puts the phone to sleep by clicking the silver button at the top.
Roxanne: “What was that?”
A.C.: “Bobby, Stevie? Do you guys remember Charlie McGarry? You met him when you came to my 10-year high school reunion a couple of years ago.”
Bobby: “Vaguely. Was that the politician?”
A.C.: “He works for New York's investigations department. That was him.”
Stevie: “And?”
Smith tries his best to remain composed, but he can't help an ear-to-ear grin from forming on his face.
A.C.: “They're taking the case.”
The celebratory screams from the Helsinki hotel room could probably be heard in Stockholm. Hugs and high-fives ensue as well, as does a long kiss between A.C. and his girlfriend that seems to last an eternity.
Bobby: “So what's the next step?”
A.C.: “Well, a group of five higher-ups will hear the facts of the case. They'll discuss it, and if the majority rules the way we want it to, they'll recommend the mayor pardon my dad.”
Stevie: “What are the odds of that?”
A.C.: “Well, the board doesn't give pardons often. It's a longshot, but so was just getting to this point. Charlie told me not to get my hopes up, and I'm not, but hey, anything's possible.”
A pause.
A.C.: “I'm gonna go outside and tell Dad the good news. Give me a second, OK?”
The trio of Smith's friends part like the Red Sea as Smith walks out of the room. He goes into the hallway and brings the phone to his face, but the normally-stoic Big Apple Asskicker can't hide the handful of tears of joy that are slowly trickling down his face.
A.C.: “Hey…hey Dad? It's me. I've got great news.”
Smith composes himself, still smiling broadly as we hear him explain the legal proceedings to his father. Meanwhile, Bobby, Stevie, and Roxanne look on from the suite, all brimming with pride as the scene fades to black.
---
We come back to the hotel suite, which is empty and, thankfully, cleaned by the hotel’s housekeeping crew. Fresh linens sit on the bed, fresh towels hang along racks near the bathroom’s shower, and the floor has been vacuumed.
Meanwhile, A.C. Smith is alone, sitting in a hotel-provided chair in the corner of the suite’s bedroom with his Xtreme Championship slung over his left shoulder. The grin has left his face, but his lips do curl to form a smile that’s ever so slight an instant before he opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “Maybe I’m going against the odds, and maybe all of this will wind up going for naught once those judges get together. But to hear my dad scream for joy when he heard his case was going to be heard by a group that could formally request a pardon? MAN, that was sweet.
“I got hit by a bomb a couple weeks ago when he came back into my life. I wanted nothing to do with him, and I thought he was some sort of con man looking to feed off his estranged son’s success. As it turns out, he’s changed my entire way of looking at my childhood, and the fact that a single person can do so much, all while being ravaged by the cancer that’s going to eventually take his life? That’s, um…wow.”
Smith pauses. We don’t see tears coming down A.C.’s cheeks, but he does drag the back of his right hand under both of his eyes very subtly, almost like a preventative measure.
A.C.: “Anyway, when you go through what I’m going through, there are lots of potential ways to get sidetracked or bogged down. That’s never been me, though. Regardless of what’s happened around me, I’ve always taken a ton of pride in being able to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand.
“This week, I face Nathaniel Havok, a guy who talked plenty of smack leading up to Mayhem about how he was the true Xtreme Champion. By his logic, since he was forced to vacate the belt eons ago rather than being beaten for it, he was still the rightful man at the top of the mountain, and boy, he sure as hell let EVERYONE know it.”
Smith rolls his eyes.
A.C.: “This came right after I dispatched Michael Lively and sent him running all the way to Asylum. None of that was any consequence to Havok, though, who promised to leave me a battered and bloody mess at Mayhem in a setting he said he thrived in.
“Heh…but what happened? Oh, that’s right. It wasn’t Havok who stood tall when all the dust settled. It was me. In his mind, he had every conceivable advantage heading into that match. He was supposed to be tougher, more experienced, and just plain better in Xtreme settings than me, but I didn’t back down. Instead, I squashed him, held my Xtreme Championship belt high at the end of the night, and took pride in adding another big name to the list of legends I’ve conquered while holding this title.
“Since then, while I’ve continued to establish myself on APW’s flagship brand, Nathaniel Havok has been just sort of…there. I outlasted him at Test for the Best, where I made the semifinals and he was bounced out in the quarters. While I’ve been doing this title proud in continuing one of the longest reigns it’s ever seen in its history, Havok actually left for a little while before just recently coming back.
“Here’s my question, one I’d like to think has plenty of merit. What, if anything, will have changed between Mayhem and now to give Nathaniel Havok an advantage?”
A pause.
A.C.: “From my standpoint, that answer does not exist. I’m still the Xtreme Champion. I’ve continued to fight all comers without hesitation, I’ve remained one of the stalwarts on Overdrive, and I’m still one of the most beloved, and feared, wrestlers on the planet.
“Nathaniel Havok? He took on Evan Envi, failed, and left for a while, finally coming back a few weeks ago. Truth be told, I was happy to see him back. Anytime APW can regain the presence of a guy that’s got a reputation as one of the best in the world, it can only serve to benefit the company.
“There’s just one problem, and for Nathaniel Havok, it’s a big one. He hasn’t been anywhere NEAR the form that once drove him to the top of this business in, well, quite some time. Sure, he took a break, and sure, he might need a couple of matches to regain his form. That’s normal and perfectly acceptable. In Havok’s case, though, he drew one of the worst opponents possible in trying to get the ring rust off. It may come off, but not exactly the way he wants: Instead of him shaking it off, I’ll BEAT it off of him and leave him a bloody mess once again.”
Smith’s slight smile turns a bit more sinister.
A.C.: “I’ve always welcomed chances to test my skills against the best in the world, and this Thursday night in Helsinki is no exception. I look forward to seeing Nathaniel Havok again, and I look forward to renewing our rivalry from Mayhem.
“I also, though, look forward to history repeating itself with regard to the match’s outcome. Nathaniel Havok was once one of the most feared men in professional wrestling, but over the past couple of months, ever since he couldn’t beat me at Mayhem, he’s lost some of his luster.
“There’s no doubt he’s approaching this match with a sense of using it as a springboard, and that’s admirable. That’s exactly what a win over me would be, a springboard back to a lofty perch he once occupied. The problem is, such an outcome just isn’t possible.
“I proved I was better than him when I beat him at his own game at Mayhem. That night, Nathaniel Havok had every chance to get my title if he was good enough, and he wasn’t. Thursday night, he gets another shot at me, but not enough has changed for him to be able to even the score.
“Don’t be fooled by anything going on around me: The jet lag, the stuff with my dad, none of it holds any bearing to the man that I am when I’m in the ring surrounded by the best fans anyone could ever ask for. On Thursday night, I’m going to do what I do best, and in this case, that’s taking care of Nathaniel Havok.”
Smith rises to his full 6’8” height while clutching his title close to his chest with his left hand. The Big Apple Asskicker then walks out of the shot, and we hear the front door to the hotel suite close as our scene fades to black once again.
In the foreground are both A.C. Smith and Roxanne. Smith's APW Xtreme Championship belt hangs over his shoulder, and a smile that matches Roxanne's makes its way to his face. Shortly, we hear why, as, from behind a closed and locked door on the right side of the screen...
BLEAH!!!!!
The sound of vomit grosses Roxanne out, but the smile doesn't leave her face when she sees the Big Apple Asskicker laughing.
A.C.: “NOW do you believe me about the effects of jet lag, boys?”
Voice: “Shut up...oh, god!”
More vomiting, and this time, we hear a second heave. At this point, we're convinced that both Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch and Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker are behind the door and haven't taken the time difference too well.
Roxanne: “Should've come out early with us!”
Bobby: “And pass up tickets to the Jets game to get sexiled every night halfway across the world? I don't think so!”
A.C.: “What a coincidence, Roxie. They see the Bills throw up on the field Sunday, and now THEY'RE throwing up themselves. Fascinating.”
Stevie: “None of this would've happened if we'd had a competent pilot who didn't hit EVERY patch of rough air between Heathrow and Helsinki...god, MOVE!”
A third heave is heard, and this time, Roxie can't help but join Smith in raucous laughter. A couple of moments later, we hear water running, and Bobby and Stevie flush the toilet while rinsing their mouths out.
A.C.: “For God's sake, spray some air freshener in there, too.”
Bobby: “Yes, master. Watch it or we'll give you a swirley in that toilet.”
A.C.: “I'd like to see you try.”
Stevie: “There's still two of us and only one of you!”
Roxanne: “Not true. You think I want my man's head going where you just barfed? You'll keep your hands off him!”
Silence for a moment before the bathroom door opens. Everyone is in agreement that what Roxanne says goes, and as a result, the behavior of those in the room suddenly changes.
A.C.: “Um...yeah. What she said.
“You guys alright?”
Bobby: “Other than still on New York time? Just swell, A.C.”
Stevie: “Why do they insist on sending you out here, anyway? Don't they know Japan's on the OTHER side of the world, and that THAT'S where One Night in Hell is?”
A.C.: “Oh, stop it. This is a chance to see the world, explore new places, to boldly go where no man has gone before...”
Roxanne: (rolling her eyes) “OK, Captain Kirk.”
A.C.: “...and you're going to let a little jet lag sour you on all that?”
Bobby: “All we're saying is that Helsinki isn't exactly on the A-list of destinations as far as the APW calendar goes. Paris? Fine. Athens? Cool. Barcelona? Bueno.”
A.C.: “But Helsinki?”
Stevie: “Hell no!”
Each member of the group lets out their own, distinctive chuckles. However, the laughter subsides when A.C.'s iPhone begisn vibrating around a central, glass table.
A.C.: “Hello?...Oh, hey Charlie...Yeah, I've got a couple minutes, what's up?...Oh, you did?...What'd he say?...Really?...Well, that's interesting...Yeah, keep me posted...Thanks again...Bye.”
Smith drags his monstrous right thumb across the bottom of the screen before his right index finger puts the phone to sleep by clicking the silver button at the top.
Roxanne: “What was that?”
A.C.: “Bobby, Stevie? Do you guys remember Charlie McGarry? You met him when you came to my 10-year high school reunion a couple of years ago.”
Bobby: “Vaguely. Was that the politician?”
A.C.: “He works for New York's investigations department. That was him.”
Stevie: “And?”
Smith tries his best to remain composed, but he can't help an ear-to-ear grin from forming on his face.
A.C.: “They're taking the case.”
The celebratory screams from the Helsinki hotel room could probably be heard in Stockholm. Hugs and high-fives ensue as well, as does a long kiss between A.C. and his girlfriend that seems to last an eternity.
Bobby: “So what's the next step?”
A.C.: “Well, a group of five higher-ups will hear the facts of the case. They'll discuss it, and if the majority rules the way we want it to, they'll recommend the mayor pardon my dad.”
Stevie: “What are the odds of that?”
A.C.: “Well, the board doesn't give pardons often. It's a longshot, but so was just getting to this point. Charlie told me not to get my hopes up, and I'm not, but hey, anything's possible.”
A pause.
A.C.: “I'm gonna go outside and tell Dad the good news. Give me a second, OK?”
The trio of Smith's friends part like the Red Sea as Smith walks out of the room. He goes into the hallway and brings the phone to his face, but the normally-stoic Big Apple Asskicker can't hide the handful of tears of joy that are slowly trickling down his face.
A.C.: “Hey…hey Dad? It's me. I've got great news.”
Smith composes himself, still smiling broadly as we hear him explain the legal proceedings to his father. Meanwhile, Bobby, Stevie, and Roxanne look on from the suite, all brimming with pride as the scene fades to black.
---
We come back to the hotel suite, which is empty and, thankfully, cleaned by the hotel’s housekeeping crew. Fresh linens sit on the bed, fresh towels hang along racks near the bathroom’s shower, and the floor has been vacuumed.
Meanwhile, A.C. Smith is alone, sitting in a hotel-provided chair in the corner of the suite’s bedroom with his Xtreme Championship slung over his left shoulder. The grin has left his face, but his lips do curl to form a smile that’s ever so slight an instant before he opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “Maybe I’m going against the odds, and maybe all of this will wind up going for naught once those judges get together. But to hear my dad scream for joy when he heard his case was going to be heard by a group that could formally request a pardon? MAN, that was sweet.
“I got hit by a bomb a couple weeks ago when he came back into my life. I wanted nothing to do with him, and I thought he was some sort of con man looking to feed off his estranged son’s success. As it turns out, he’s changed my entire way of looking at my childhood, and the fact that a single person can do so much, all while being ravaged by the cancer that’s going to eventually take his life? That’s, um…wow.”
Smith pauses. We don’t see tears coming down A.C.’s cheeks, but he does drag the back of his right hand under both of his eyes very subtly, almost like a preventative measure.
A.C.: “Anyway, when you go through what I’m going through, there are lots of potential ways to get sidetracked or bogged down. That’s never been me, though. Regardless of what’s happened around me, I’ve always taken a ton of pride in being able to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand.
“This week, I face Nathaniel Havok, a guy who talked plenty of smack leading up to Mayhem about how he was the true Xtreme Champion. By his logic, since he was forced to vacate the belt eons ago rather than being beaten for it, he was still the rightful man at the top of the mountain, and boy, he sure as hell let EVERYONE know it.”
Smith rolls his eyes.
A.C.: “This came right after I dispatched Michael Lively and sent him running all the way to Asylum. None of that was any consequence to Havok, though, who promised to leave me a battered and bloody mess at Mayhem in a setting he said he thrived in.
“Heh…but what happened? Oh, that’s right. It wasn’t Havok who stood tall when all the dust settled. It was me. In his mind, he had every conceivable advantage heading into that match. He was supposed to be tougher, more experienced, and just plain better in Xtreme settings than me, but I didn’t back down. Instead, I squashed him, held my Xtreme Championship belt high at the end of the night, and took pride in adding another big name to the list of legends I’ve conquered while holding this title.
“Since then, while I’ve continued to establish myself on APW’s flagship brand, Nathaniel Havok has been just sort of…there. I outlasted him at Test for the Best, where I made the semifinals and he was bounced out in the quarters. While I’ve been doing this title proud in continuing one of the longest reigns it’s ever seen in its history, Havok actually left for a little while before just recently coming back.
“Here’s my question, one I’d like to think has plenty of merit. What, if anything, will have changed between Mayhem and now to give Nathaniel Havok an advantage?”
A pause.
A.C.: “From my standpoint, that answer does not exist. I’m still the Xtreme Champion. I’ve continued to fight all comers without hesitation, I’ve remained one of the stalwarts on Overdrive, and I’m still one of the most beloved, and feared, wrestlers on the planet.
“Nathaniel Havok? He took on Evan Envi, failed, and left for a while, finally coming back a few weeks ago. Truth be told, I was happy to see him back. Anytime APW can regain the presence of a guy that’s got a reputation as one of the best in the world, it can only serve to benefit the company.
“There’s just one problem, and for Nathaniel Havok, it’s a big one. He hasn’t been anywhere NEAR the form that once drove him to the top of this business in, well, quite some time. Sure, he took a break, and sure, he might need a couple of matches to regain his form. That’s normal and perfectly acceptable. In Havok’s case, though, he drew one of the worst opponents possible in trying to get the ring rust off. It may come off, but not exactly the way he wants: Instead of him shaking it off, I’ll BEAT it off of him and leave him a bloody mess once again.”
Smith’s slight smile turns a bit more sinister.
A.C.: “I’ve always welcomed chances to test my skills against the best in the world, and this Thursday night in Helsinki is no exception. I look forward to seeing Nathaniel Havok again, and I look forward to renewing our rivalry from Mayhem.
“I also, though, look forward to history repeating itself with regard to the match’s outcome. Nathaniel Havok was once one of the most feared men in professional wrestling, but over the past couple of months, ever since he couldn’t beat me at Mayhem, he’s lost some of his luster.
“There’s no doubt he’s approaching this match with a sense of using it as a springboard, and that’s admirable. That’s exactly what a win over me would be, a springboard back to a lofty perch he once occupied. The problem is, such an outcome just isn’t possible.
“I proved I was better than him when I beat him at his own game at Mayhem. That night, Nathaniel Havok had every chance to get my title if he was good enough, and he wasn’t. Thursday night, he gets another shot at me, but not enough has changed for him to be able to even the score.
“Don’t be fooled by anything going on around me: The jet lag, the stuff with my dad, none of it holds any bearing to the man that I am when I’m in the ring surrounded by the best fans anyone could ever ask for. On Thursday night, I’m going to do what I do best, and in this case, that’s taking care of Nathaniel Havok.”
Smith rises to his full 6’8” height while clutching his title close to his chest with his left hand. The Big Apple Asskicker then walks out of the shot, and we hear the front door to the hotel suite close as our scene fades to black once again.
