Post by A.C. Smith on Oct 26, 2013 22:03:08 GMT -4
Our scene opens today in an unfamiliar apartment. It's not in bad condition; the hardwood floors are cleaned and the countertops have been wiped down, but what strikes us is the amount of empty space we see on our screen.
Many higher-end appliances are plugged in, including both a stove and a refrigerator/freezer in the kitchen. However, through an opening, we can see that there's nothing in a living room adjacent to where our camera currently sits. No couch, no TV, no chairs for visitors to sit in, nothing.
However, when our camera pans left, that mystery is solved. Finally, we see something of substance: Boxes, and many of them, with labels and black writing on them showing what sits inside each one. There must be eight to 10 large boxes in our midst, and when the camera pans left further, we see our makeshift moving company: Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch, Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker, and the Big Apple Asskicker, A.C. Smith.
The three are all sitting Indian-style on the floor while taking a beer break. Smith brings a bottle of Michelob Ultra to his lips briefly before putting it down gently on a coaster next to him, and after a moment or two, the current APW Xtreme Champion opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “Ya know, I always knew you two'd get your own place someday. When's the wedding?”
Smith smirks as Bobby and Stevie roll their eyes.
Bobby: “It's a great place! The two of us have always wanted to get a place and fix it up.”
Stevie: “Yeah, you should see it. It's a brownstone in a great neighborhood. Who knows? If you want in on the business side of things...”
Smith shakes his head quickly and waves his hands in an adamant denial.
A.C.: “I've got a ton of other stuff going on right now. You guys have fun.”
Bobby: “What, the stuff with your dad? How's he doing?”
A.C.: “He's a fighter. He's continuing to undergo treatment, and he's convinced it's working, but...”
Smith lets the rest of the sentence trail off into nothingness as he sips his beer once again.
Stevie: “Have the doctors said anything?”
A.C.: “Only that his treatments are prolonging the inevitable. Things aren't dire yet, but they're convinced it'll get to that point, and I'm not really in any position to disagree with them.
“I just hope he lives long enough to see his name get cleared.”
Bobby: “I'll drink to that!”
The Big Apple Asskicker smiles as all three take swigs of their respective beverages.
Stevie: “Thanks again for helping us move all of Bobby's crap out of here.”
A.C.: “No problem. It just sucks I can't help you guys move this stuff into the new place.”
Bobby: “Not your fault. You've got One Night in Hell, and we've got a moving company that could fit us in on one day between now and Thanksgiving. Shit happens.”
A.C.: “You sure we got everything from out of here? Once you turn your keys in, you can't come back.”
Stevie: “I think we did. Most of the small stuff is already over there, and I can't think of anything big that we missed. Bobby?”
Bobby: “Nah. Kind of sad, really, seeing your life in plain brown boxes.”
A.C.: (smirking) “I'll go get the Kleenex.”
Smith's sarcasm is met with a playful slap on the back from Bobby, who's risen to throw out his empty beer bottle. We hear it land in a nearby waste basket with a thunk, and Bobby sits back down.
Bobby: “So when does the plane leave for Japan?”
A.C.: “Tonight. I get in tomorrow.”
Stevie: “Remember last year? Bobby and I hit up every all-you-can-eat sushi buffet in Tokyo, it was great.”
Bobby: “Meanwhile, A.C. was off visiting the atomic bomb memorials. As I recall, that went over REAL well in certain parts of the locker room.”
Smith rolls his eyes.
A.C.: “It's a sense of history, boys. You can't know where you're going until you know where you've been.
“In a roundabout way, that leads into the match I've got coming up. After all, last year, I was involved in a bloodbath for the Xtreme Championship with Evan Harrison and Nick Watson. This year, I'm going to take part in another one with Leon Roberts and Mad Mumf.”
Stevie: “Except this time, you go in as the hunted, not one of the hunters.”
A.C.: (nodding) “Precisely. Funny how so much can change in a year yet remain the same, huh?”
Smith sips the last of his beer before turning around and flinging the bottle into the garbage can.
A.C.: “Last year, I did most of the damage to Evan Harrison, only I wasn't able to capitalize on it. Instead, Nick Watson needed Sienna Harrison's help to finish the job. Some would say everything worked out for me; I wound up beating Watson a few months later for a title I've now held for 10 months.”
Bobby: (with a knowing smile) “But...”
A.C.: “But that still doesn't take the sting out of what happened last year. I should be going into this match with a chance at assuring myself of the longest Xtreme Championship reign in Action Packed Wrestling history, but that's not the way things shook out.
“Put it this way: I've got unfinished business in this match coming up at the Tokyo Dome. And being able to take care of it in front of a capacity crowd at one of the world's greatest wrestling venues against two guys I'm VERY eager to shut up would be very, VERY pleasant.”
Smith smiles, and beneath his eyes, we see his proverbial wheels turning at a rate that'd power a U.S. Army tank. His nostrils are slightly flared, and several veins on his thick neck become slightly visible to an educated eye.
Stevie: “And here's where A.C. goes off.”
A.C. smiles, and all of a sudden, the intensity gets put on the back burner.
A.C.: “Well, I would, but I figured I'd save it for Japan.”
Bobby: “Where we can't see it? Where's the fun in THAT?!”
A.C.: “I wouldn't be so sure about that.”
Suddenly, we hear several knocks on a door located off-screen.
Voice: “MOVING COMPANY!!!”
Bobby and Stevie look at Smith quizzically, and the look on the Big Apple Asskicker's face has morphed from a slight smile to a full-on, “I'm smarter than you” smirk.
Bobby: “Wait. How did you...”
A.C.: “Pulled a couple of strings so you guys could go back to Tokyo and see if those sushi bars had banned you or not.”
Stevie: “But they told us...”
A.C.: “I know what they told you. Now, are you going to let those guys in, or are you going to grill me up and down when we've got a 20-hour plane ride coming up?”
Bobby and Stevie stumble over themselves initially, but they rise to their feet and walk off-screen to open the door for the movers. Smith, meanwhile, stays seated, and his smirk returns to his face as our scene fades to black.
---
A day or two later (depending on which side of the International Date Line you're on), we come back to a hotel suite in Tokyo. Bobby and Stevie are sound asleep in one bedroom, and we hear each member of the duo snoring loudly, even from the other side of the lodgings.
Meanwhile, A.C. Smith is relaxing in bed, but his light is on. We see that the shirtless Smith has his nose in a Japanese wrestling magazine. Naturally, all the words are in Japanese, so we can't understand text or headlines, but what we see on each page are plenty of photographs, from the world of sumo to bloodbaths in front of 50 people at glorified bingo halls.
Wrestling is religion in Japan, and Smith may as well be reading a version of the Bible. We see him flipping through a couple of the last pages, intently devouring the images he sees and what they represent. Finally, he reaches the back cover and lets out a deep, disappointed sigh as he closes the magazine and puts it down on a nearby nightstand.
The Big Apple Asskicker then sits up right as Bobby and Stevie begin what may very well be a snoring version of “Dueling Banjos.” Rolling his eyes, and realizing he's not going to bed anytime soon, the APW Xtreme Champion locks his eyes on the camera, and fighting the urge to let his heavy eyelids droop down and carry him into the morning, he opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “For some reason, there's a small group of people in my line of work who just hate coming to Japan. The key to realizing how cool it is, other than overcoming the ridiculous time difference, is that when you come here, you need to digest as much as possible in a very short time span. Unlike in America, where my business tends to take a back seat to baseball, basketball, football, and hockey, in Japan, wrestling is a way of life.
“People design their weeks around when the matches are. They take road trips to follow certain touring promotions, some of which play to standing-room-only crowds if a big name is added to the marquee at the last minute. The fans are tough to please, but justifiably so. When you put so much into this industry in the way of support, you want the people you're watching to reciprocate somehow, and that's something I take great pride in doing every single week.”
We look behind Smith for a moment. Sitting in a chair next to a window that looks out on downtown Tokyo is the APW Xtreme Championship belt, which A.C. gazes at for just a moment or two before he continues.
A.C.: “Ever since beating Nick Watson for that title last December, I've made it my mission to be the best damn Xtreme Champion that Action Packed Wrestling has ever seen, by any measure. I'm proud to say that I'm on my way to doing just that. I've dispatched Hall of Famers, I've proven a bunch of people wrong, and most importantly, I've given my fans, the best fans in the world, plenty to cheer for.
“Now, this week, at One Night in Hell, the fans get to take it a step further. They get to bring weapons to the arena, devices that myself, Leon Roberts, and Mad Mumf will use in hopes of beating the crap out of each other to win that title. It's going to be chaotic. It's going to be exciting. Bluntly, it's going to be painful.
“But would I have asked for any other kind of a match, given the atmosphere and what I know people expect out of APW and the Xtreme division?”
Smith shakes his head.
A.C.: “I asked for this match for several reasons. Not only did I know it was going to be a hit with the fans, but I also knew it would provide me with a unique outlet to shut Leon Roberts and Mad Mumf up once and for all. Not only am I going into One Night in Hell with every intention of beating them from pillar to post, but I'm going to do it on behalf of EVERYONE who wants to see them run away with their tails between their legs. Judging by what I've seen and heard from the fans, that's a large, LARGE group of people.
“I'll start with Leon Roberts, and that makes sense, because he came into the picture long before Mad Mumf did. Roberts shot his mouth off a few different times, telling me I was in some way worse than he was. I proceeded to kick his ass at Shockwave, but did that stop him from thinking he was better than me? Not by a long shot.”
Smith rolls his eyes. There's a clear sense of fatigue in the way he's carrying himself, though it's unclear as to if that's coming from the sleep deprivation or from having to deal with Roberts.
A.C.: “People can improve very quickly in this business. I've seen it happen, I've had it happen on my behalf, and I've had it happen with people who have come up against me. It's far from impossible, but for that to happen, the person who came out on the losing end the first time has to re-examine himself and change how he goes about his business.
“Has Leon Roberts done that since Shockwave? Not at all whatsoever. He's still the same mouthy asshole who sees the world as his oyster and its inhabitants only for how they can assist him in achieving his goals. He tried that attitude against me before, and not just at Shockwave, but a couple of times before that. It didn't work then, and it's sure as hell not going to work now.
“Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. That's what Leon Roberts is doing. He's not preparing himself for a run as APW's Xtreme Champion. He's not getting himself ready to beat Mad Mumf and myself. No, he's getting set for a trip to the loony bin, which he might need after we hit him over the head a few times on Sunday night.”
Smith allows himself a slight chuckle, though he makes sure to keep the noise down so as not to wake the loudest snorers this side of Hokkaido.
A.C.: “Then we come to Mad Mumf, a guy I didn't really mind much even as recently as a few weeks ago. His service to his country is admirable, and he struck me as all-business with very little drama attached, which seems like a true rarity in professional wrestling nowadays.
“But after I beat him and retained my title on an episode of Overdrive, things changed. A switch flipped, and he suddenly felt like doing his best Leon Roberts impression. He even followed Roberts' lead a few weeks ago in Yokohama, turning what was a really good match between myself and Chris Madison into a no-contest when he turned it into some deranged dick-measuring contest.
“Mad Mumf's done his share of good things on Overdrive. He picked up a nice win over KJE that night, and more power to him for that. But he suffered from the same kind of overconfidence that drove Michael Lively to Asylum, Nathaniel Havok away from a division he once dominated, and countless others back to whatever rabbit holes they came from.
“The night we met on Overdrive, Mad Mumf got in a couple of good shots. He didn't win, but he did just enough to think he could turn the tables with one more meeting. More implausible things have happened, to be sure, but the way he went about it shows that his thought process is all screwed up. Instead of being a man, coming to me like a man, and challenging me like a man, he tries to jump on me when I'm dealing with Chris Madison and Leon Roberts. News flash: I'm still standing, still not backing down from any fights, and still more mentally ready for an Xtreme Championship match than Mad Mumf is.”
Smith pauses, gazing at his championship belt once more.
A.C.: “People in my line of work get asked all the time about what their goals are. It's a taxing business. You're on the road for 250, 275 days a year, getting beaten up by some of the best athletes on the planet, and to a bunch of smart people, it looks like the most stupid thing you could ever do. For most, there's an endgame, a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, that makes everything worth it.
“Me? My goals are to compete in matches like the one I find myself in this Sunday night. I'm competing in the Tokyo Dome, one of the greatest places in the world to wrestle, against two guys whose asses I want to kick, and badly. Furthermore, I can do it with the help of my fans, most of whom follow professional wrestling as closely as any fans of any sport around the world.
“If you're a wrestler, and you don't get amped up for matches like this, you need to re-examine your priorities and whether or not you have the heart to be in this business. I've been at this for more than 11 years now. I've seen a lot of sights, danced a lot of dances, and fought a ton of great fighters, but the thought of this match at One Night in Hell? It gives me goosebumps like very few matches ever have.
“Leon Roberts? Mad Mumf? You guys both bit off WAY more than you could ever hope to chew. You've both blown chances at taking my title in the past, and this Sunday night, the circumstances won't be any different. I'm one of the longest-reigning APW Xtreme Champions in history, and that didn't happen by accident. At One Night in Hell, I look forward to showing you both why that's the case.
“Again.”
Smith lies down to try and sleep, but the snoring in the other room and the frenzy the Big Apple Asskicker has worked himself into have made that an impossible task. After rolling around in his king-size bed for a few seconds, Smith groans, rising to his full 6'8” height. We see him throw a white t-shirt on in addition to the black gym shorts he was already wearing, and he begins stretching for an impromptu midnight workout as our scene fades to black.
Many higher-end appliances are plugged in, including both a stove and a refrigerator/freezer in the kitchen. However, through an opening, we can see that there's nothing in a living room adjacent to where our camera currently sits. No couch, no TV, no chairs for visitors to sit in, nothing.
However, when our camera pans left, that mystery is solved. Finally, we see something of substance: Boxes, and many of them, with labels and black writing on them showing what sits inside each one. There must be eight to 10 large boxes in our midst, and when the camera pans left further, we see our makeshift moving company: Bobby the Bavarian Man-Bitch, Stevie the Slovakian Slobberknocker, and the Big Apple Asskicker, A.C. Smith.
The three are all sitting Indian-style on the floor while taking a beer break. Smith brings a bottle of Michelob Ultra to his lips briefly before putting it down gently on a coaster next to him, and after a moment or two, the current APW Xtreme Champion opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “Ya know, I always knew you two'd get your own place someday. When's the wedding?”
Smith smirks as Bobby and Stevie roll their eyes.
Bobby: “It's a great place! The two of us have always wanted to get a place and fix it up.”
Stevie: “Yeah, you should see it. It's a brownstone in a great neighborhood. Who knows? If you want in on the business side of things...”
Smith shakes his head quickly and waves his hands in an adamant denial.
A.C.: “I've got a ton of other stuff going on right now. You guys have fun.”
Bobby: “What, the stuff with your dad? How's he doing?”
A.C.: “He's a fighter. He's continuing to undergo treatment, and he's convinced it's working, but...”
Smith lets the rest of the sentence trail off into nothingness as he sips his beer once again.
Stevie: “Have the doctors said anything?”
A.C.: “Only that his treatments are prolonging the inevitable. Things aren't dire yet, but they're convinced it'll get to that point, and I'm not really in any position to disagree with them.
“I just hope he lives long enough to see his name get cleared.”
Bobby: “I'll drink to that!”
The Big Apple Asskicker smiles as all three take swigs of their respective beverages.
Stevie: “Thanks again for helping us move all of Bobby's crap out of here.”
A.C.: “No problem. It just sucks I can't help you guys move this stuff into the new place.”
Bobby: “Not your fault. You've got One Night in Hell, and we've got a moving company that could fit us in on one day between now and Thanksgiving. Shit happens.”
A.C.: “You sure we got everything from out of here? Once you turn your keys in, you can't come back.”
Stevie: “I think we did. Most of the small stuff is already over there, and I can't think of anything big that we missed. Bobby?”
Bobby: “Nah. Kind of sad, really, seeing your life in plain brown boxes.”
A.C.: (smirking) “I'll go get the Kleenex.”
Smith's sarcasm is met with a playful slap on the back from Bobby, who's risen to throw out his empty beer bottle. We hear it land in a nearby waste basket with a thunk, and Bobby sits back down.
Bobby: “So when does the plane leave for Japan?”
A.C.: “Tonight. I get in tomorrow.”
Stevie: “Remember last year? Bobby and I hit up every all-you-can-eat sushi buffet in Tokyo, it was great.”
Bobby: “Meanwhile, A.C. was off visiting the atomic bomb memorials. As I recall, that went over REAL well in certain parts of the locker room.”
Smith rolls his eyes.
A.C.: “It's a sense of history, boys. You can't know where you're going until you know where you've been.
“In a roundabout way, that leads into the match I've got coming up. After all, last year, I was involved in a bloodbath for the Xtreme Championship with Evan Harrison and Nick Watson. This year, I'm going to take part in another one with Leon Roberts and Mad Mumf.”
Stevie: “Except this time, you go in as the hunted, not one of the hunters.”
A.C.: (nodding) “Precisely. Funny how so much can change in a year yet remain the same, huh?”
Smith sips the last of his beer before turning around and flinging the bottle into the garbage can.
A.C.: “Last year, I did most of the damage to Evan Harrison, only I wasn't able to capitalize on it. Instead, Nick Watson needed Sienna Harrison's help to finish the job. Some would say everything worked out for me; I wound up beating Watson a few months later for a title I've now held for 10 months.”
Bobby: (with a knowing smile) “But...”
A.C.: “But that still doesn't take the sting out of what happened last year. I should be going into this match with a chance at assuring myself of the longest Xtreme Championship reign in Action Packed Wrestling history, but that's not the way things shook out.
“Put it this way: I've got unfinished business in this match coming up at the Tokyo Dome. And being able to take care of it in front of a capacity crowd at one of the world's greatest wrestling venues against two guys I'm VERY eager to shut up would be very, VERY pleasant.”
Smith smiles, and beneath his eyes, we see his proverbial wheels turning at a rate that'd power a U.S. Army tank. His nostrils are slightly flared, and several veins on his thick neck become slightly visible to an educated eye.
Stevie: “And here's where A.C. goes off.”
A.C. smiles, and all of a sudden, the intensity gets put on the back burner.
A.C.: “Well, I would, but I figured I'd save it for Japan.”
Bobby: “Where we can't see it? Where's the fun in THAT?!”
A.C.: “I wouldn't be so sure about that.”
Suddenly, we hear several knocks on a door located off-screen.
Voice: “MOVING COMPANY!!!”
Bobby and Stevie look at Smith quizzically, and the look on the Big Apple Asskicker's face has morphed from a slight smile to a full-on, “I'm smarter than you” smirk.
Bobby: “Wait. How did you...”
A.C.: “Pulled a couple of strings so you guys could go back to Tokyo and see if those sushi bars had banned you or not.”
Stevie: “But they told us...”
A.C.: “I know what they told you. Now, are you going to let those guys in, or are you going to grill me up and down when we've got a 20-hour plane ride coming up?”
Bobby and Stevie stumble over themselves initially, but they rise to their feet and walk off-screen to open the door for the movers. Smith, meanwhile, stays seated, and his smirk returns to his face as our scene fades to black.
---
A day or two later (depending on which side of the International Date Line you're on), we come back to a hotel suite in Tokyo. Bobby and Stevie are sound asleep in one bedroom, and we hear each member of the duo snoring loudly, even from the other side of the lodgings.
Meanwhile, A.C. Smith is relaxing in bed, but his light is on. We see that the shirtless Smith has his nose in a Japanese wrestling magazine. Naturally, all the words are in Japanese, so we can't understand text or headlines, but what we see on each page are plenty of photographs, from the world of sumo to bloodbaths in front of 50 people at glorified bingo halls.
Wrestling is religion in Japan, and Smith may as well be reading a version of the Bible. We see him flipping through a couple of the last pages, intently devouring the images he sees and what they represent. Finally, he reaches the back cover and lets out a deep, disappointed sigh as he closes the magazine and puts it down on a nearby nightstand.
The Big Apple Asskicker then sits up right as Bobby and Stevie begin what may very well be a snoring version of “Dueling Banjos.” Rolling his eyes, and realizing he's not going to bed anytime soon, the APW Xtreme Champion locks his eyes on the camera, and fighting the urge to let his heavy eyelids droop down and carry him into the morning, he opens his mouth to speak.
A.C.: “For some reason, there's a small group of people in my line of work who just hate coming to Japan. The key to realizing how cool it is, other than overcoming the ridiculous time difference, is that when you come here, you need to digest as much as possible in a very short time span. Unlike in America, where my business tends to take a back seat to baseball, basketball, football, and hockey, in Japan, wrestling is a way of life.
“People design their weeks around when the matches are. They take road trips to follow certain touring promotions, some of which play to standing-room-only crowds if a big name is added to the marquee at the last minute. The fans are tough to please, but justifiably so. When you put so much into this industry in the way of support, you want the people you're watching to reciprocate somehow, and that's something I take great pride in doing every single week.”
We look behind Smith for a moment. Sitting in a chair next to a window that looks out on downtown Tokyo is the APW Xtreme Championship belt, which A.C. gazes at for just a moment or two before he continues.
A.C.: “Ever since beating Nick Watson for that title last December, I've made it my mission to be the best damn Xtreme Champion that Action Packed Wrestling has ever seen, by any measure. I'm proud to say that I'm on my way to doing just that. I've dispatched Hall of Famers, I've proven a bunch of people wrong, and most importantly, I've given my fans, the best fans in the world, plenty to cheer for.
“Now, this week, at One Night in Hell, the fans get to take it a step further. They get to bring weapons to the arena, devices that myself, Leon Roberts, and Mad Mumf will use in hopes of beating the crap out of each other to win that title. It's going to be chaotic. It's going to be exciting. Bluntly, it's going to be painful.
“But would I have asked for any other kind of a match, given the atmosphere and what I know people expect out of APW and the Xtreme division?”
Smith shakes his head.
A.C.: “I asked for this match for several reasons. Not only did I know it was going to be a hit with the fans, but I also knew it would provide me with a unique outlet to shut Leon Roberts and Mad Mumf up once and for all. Not only am I going into One Night in Hell with every intention of beating them from pillar to post, but I'm going to do it on behalf of EVERYONE who wants to see them run away with their tails between their legs. Judging by what I've seen and heard from the fans, that's a large, LARGE group of people.
“I'll start with Leon Roberts, and that makes sense, because he came into the picture long before Mad Mumf did. Roberts shot his mouth off a few different times, telling me I was in some way worse than he was. I proceeded to kick his ass at Shockwave, but did that stop him from thinking he was better than me? Not by a long shot.”
Smith rolls his eyes. There's a clear sense of fatigue in the way he's carrying himself, though it's unclear as to if that's coming from the sleep deprivation or from having to deal with Roberts.
A.C.: “People can improve very quickly in this business. I've seen it happen, I've had it happen on my behalf, and I've had it happen with people who have come up against me. It's far from impossible, but for that to happen, the person who came out on the losing end the first time has to re-examine himself and change how he goes about his business.
“Has Leon Roberts done that since Shockwave? Not at all whatsoever. He's still the same mouthy asshole who sees the world as his oyster and its inhabitants only for how they can assist him in achieving his goals. He tried that attitude against me before, and not just at Shockwave, but a couple of times before that. It didn't work then, and it's sure as hell not going to work now.
“Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. That's what Leon Roberts is doing. He's not preparing himself for a run as APW's Xtreme Champion. He's not getting himself ready to beat Mad Mumf and myself. No, he's getting set for a trip to the loony bin, which he might need after we hit him over the head a few times on Sunday night.”
Smith allows himself a slight chuckle, though he makes sure to keep the noise down so as not to wake the loudest snorers this side of Hokkaido.
A.C.: “Then we come to Mad Mumf, a guy I didn't really mind much even as recently as a few weeks ago. His service to his country is admirable, and he struck me as all-business with very little drama attached, which seems like a true rarity in professional wrestling nowadays.
“But after I beat him and retained my title on an episode of Overdrive, things changed. A switch flipped, and he suddenly felt like doing his best Leon Roberts impression. He even followed Roberts' lead a few weeks ago in Yokohama, turning what was a really good match between myself and Chris Madison into a no-contest when he turned it into some deranged dick-measuring contest.
“Mad Mumf's done his share of good things on Overdrive. He picked up a nice win over KJE that night, and more power to him for that. But he suffered from the same kind of overconfidence that drove Michael Lively to Asylum, Nathaniel Havok away from a division he once dominated, and countless others back to whatever rabbit holes they came from.
“The night we met on Overdrive, Mad Mumf got in a couple of good shots. He didn't win, but he did just enough to think he could turn the tables with one more meeting. More implausible things have happened, to be sure, but the way he went about it shows that his thought process is all screwed up. Instead of being a man, coming to me like a man, and challenging me like a man, he tries to jump on me when I'm dealing with Chris Madison and Leon Roberts. News flash: I'm still standing, still not backing down from any fights, and still more mentally ready for an Xtreme Championship match than Mad Mumf is.”
Smith pauses, gazing at his championship belt once more.
A.C.: “People in my line of work get asked all the time about what their goals are. It's a taxing business. You're on the road for 250, 275 days a year, getting beaten up by some of the best athletes on the planet, and to a bunch of smart people, it looks like the most stupid thing you could ever do. For most, there's an endgame, a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, that makes everything worth it.
“Me? My goals are to compete in matches like the one I find myself in this Sunday night. I'm competing in the Tokyo Dome, one of the greatest places in the world to wrestle, against two guys whose asses I want to kick, and badly. Furthermore, I can do it with the help of my fans, most of whom follow professional wrestling as closely as any fans of any sport around the world.
“If you're a wrestler, and you don't get amped up for matches like this, you need to re-examine your priorities and whether or not you have the heart to be in this business. I've been at this for more than 11 years now. I've seen a lot of sights, danced a lot of dances, and fought a ton of great fighters, but the thought of this match at One Night in Hell? It gives me goosebumps like very few matches ever have.
“Leon Roberts? Mad Mumf? You guys both bit off WAY more than you could ever hope to chew. You've both blown chances at taking my title in the past, and this Sunday night, the circumstances won't be any different. I'm one of the longest-reigning APW Xtreme Champions in history, and that didn't happen by accident. At One Night in Hell, I look forward to showing you both why that's the case.
“Again.”
Smith lies down to try and sleep, but the snoring in the other room and the frenzy the Big Apple Asskicker has worked himself into have made that an impossible task. After rolling around in his king-size bed for a few seconds, Smith groans, rising to his full 6'8” height. We see him throw a white t-shirt on in addition to the black gym shorts he was already wearing, and he begins stretching for an impromptu midnight workout as our scene fades to black.
