Square One Here I Come

[sethstorm]

April 4, 2008.
4:30am
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

The echo of footsteps is all that can be heard in the dark warehouse before the click of a mains switch as the power is turned on and the warehouse is fully illuminated. We see that inside is a small row of bleachers surrounding a wrestling ring, with no ring mats outside of it. A banner hangs on the wall that reads "McHeyman Wrestling School", and in the corner are some freeweights and a heavy bag. We finally see that the footsteps belong to none other than "The Archangel" Seth Storm. Well, at least thats what he was before the WWC closed. A few small but successful runs in a few other dinky little promotions later saw Seth leave behind the hunt for glory to become the associate head trainer of his mentors new school. And as his boss is currently overseas trying to start a working relationship with a major Japanese company, Seth is in charge of the trainees which means he has to get there before the crack of dawn to get everything ready, yay him. As he hooks on the ring aprons and sets down the mats he dwells for a moment on past glories before getting back to the task at hand.

9:37am

The trainees go through their exercise regime before actual ring work can take place: 500 hindu squats, 500 pushups, 500 situps and a 5 km run. To some this may seem severe but to Seth it's a simple training regime that sorts the pretenders from those who actually want to learn in this business. As he readys the trainees for the run, one of the junior trainers comes up to him. It seems that McHeyman is on the phone. Seth hands the students over to the other trainers and heads for the office. As he walks down the hallway towards the office he passes photos of infamous moments in wrestling history (well, infamous for him anyway). An early CWF promotional photo of Andy McHeyman and Dr Matt as the World Tag Team Champions followed by a shot of McHeyman as World's Heavyweight Champion. Then a shot of the nWo, including one with them facing off against the CWF defenders led by Hurricane Jeff. Then a few random backstage shots taken over the years featuring various wrestlers. However right before the office door a new photo hangs that makes Seth stop momentarily. A photo of McHeyman, Diana, MJS, Spirit and Seth taken backstage at a WWC live event. Little Skylar is piggybacking on Seth's back, just hours before her mom and Seth would go out there and bloody each other in front of 13, 000 people. Seth smiled at the memory of that photo before remembering that he had better get to the phone before the bossman fires him. He hurredly hurtles himself into the chair and picks up the phone.

::Seth:: Andy?

::Andy:: Seth hey, look meetings here with Misawa look like they're going to take longer than i had originally anticipated but i should be back by Monday morning.

::Seth:: No problem. Hey, i just noticed you put up a new photo outside the office..

::Andy:: (chuckles to himself) Yeah, i got it off of Sara about a week ago, it's a nice shot huh?

::Seth:: Yeah..yeah it is.....

A few moments of silence fill the air before Seth finally speaks again.

::Seth:: Andy i've been thinking...

::Andy:: Seth if it's about your pay i told you i can up it by about 100 dollars at the most...

::Seth:: No not that, i've been thinking about going back to in ring competiton. Back to the business again.

Seth waits to hear his mentor, boss and friends answer, and he doesn't have to wait long.

::Andy:: Seth, if you didn't have the passion for this business that you do, i never would have trained you, and i sure as hell never would have offered you this job...You've got more passion for this business than almost anyone i have ever encountered and i know that if i were your age i would be chomping at the bit to get back into it not that i am that much older than you of course. But i burned out, i worked non stop for 6 years and it took everything out of me. You're young and you're more athletic than i have ever been, and if you feel you have to get back into it then i won't stop you.

::Seth:: Really? You're ok with me going back to active competition? I don't want to leave you in the lurch or anythi....

Andy cuts Seth off mid-sentance.

::Andy:: I won't say i am ok with it, but i understand. *laughs* I'm kidding, i am more than ok with it. Just let the others know, and by the time i get back i'll have a new associate head trainer. Just remember if you ever wanna come back your job is here for you.

::Seth:: Thanks bossman, i'll remember that.

Seth hangs up the phone and thinks about where in the hell that all came from. Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, or maybe it had been on his mind for some time and he just needed the moment for it to all come out. Seth didn't know or care, and after informing the other trainers of his decision, he emptied his locker out and went home to begin his search.

11:00am

The thought hits Seth like a ton of bricks: do i even have what it takes to do this anymore? Not to mention i have nowhere to work...What the fuck am i thinking etc...But he soon banishes those thoughts from his mind long enough to pack his gear before coming up with the best way to find out if he could in fact cut it anymore. He whips out the trusty old video camera and sets it on its tripod. What better way to see if you still have it than to try cutting a promo on someone, but who? His mind casts back to the photo outside Andy's office..'Spirit' Tara Jacobs. He smirks to himself before hitting record and wandering out in front of the camera to cut a promo in his kitchen.

::Seth:: Greetings one and all, it is time to rejoice for it is the return of the Wrestling Classic, the Saving grace of the Squared Circle and the Saviour of Professional Wrestling, "The Archangel" Seth Storm. Now i know what you're all thinking as you mark out at this glorious fact "Oh my god, Seth Storm it's really you! Welcome back and hip hip hooray it's time to celebrate. But Seth, it's been almost two years since anyone has seen you, where have you been? Why did you leave?" and the list goes on and on. Well to start yes it has been almost two years since anyone has seen the Archangel do what he does best in this ring, but do not worry yourself with whether or not i can still go because i STILL have yet to reach my prime, although that time is coming soon. Where have i been? I've been honing my craft day in, day out. I've been preparing for this day, the day that i come back to the business i have been sent to save. From whom i hear you ask? From the hardcore filth that permiates my sport! From those foes old and new alike that seek to drag this business down to the depths from which it once sunk. People like 'Spirit' Tara Jacobs, for instance. She likes to walk around professing to be a top notch professional wrestler but c'mon anyone who uses the nickname the "Matriarch of Violence" isn't exactly the female Harley Race now is she? Is she a great wrestler, sure but only when she wants to be. Most times she chooses to degrade herself and the profession we are in by resorting to hardcore chicanery and deviant lifestyles. She pays no regard to the wellbeing of her opponents or herself, and the way in which she speaks...i've seen some perverted things in my time, even participated in some during my weaker moments...but this 'woman' takes the cake! But the filth of which i speak isn't just in matches involving barbed wire foreman grills and flaming hockey sticks, but the reprehensible way in which these people carry themselves and yet they call themselves professionals. Last time i checked, professional didn't mean "Mind Bogglingly Stoned" or "So drunk they can't lace up their own boots without losing balance"...This is PROFESSIONAL Wrestling, and i don't know about you but i don't think people that do this for a living in major promotions should act like weekend warriors who work for a struggling indy once a month. For once i would like to see them take pride in the business they are involved in and do their jobs without offending everything i hold dear in this profession. 'Spirit' Tara Jacobs is by no means the only offender nor is she the worst, she's merely indicative of the decline this business has seen in recent years. With a focus on 'extreme' and a need for 'hardcore', millions of these garbage wrestling deciples are ruining the business i so love. And as long as even one of them continues to disgrace the sport of professional wrestling by flaunting their mere existence in it, then they will encur the wrath of 'The Archangel' Seth Storm. Here endeth the lesson...And that my friends, is Gospel.

Seth walks camera left and switches it off. He plays back the tape and, pleased with his work, decides to use it as his return to pro-wrestling. Now all he needs is a promotion to give it to..

3:52pm

Seth sits in his personal office at home, filling out a FedEx envelope for immediate courier service. A few internet windows sit open on his browser, all at various promotions across the world. However, the one he has left open is Action Packed Wrestling, run by his trainers old friend/nemesis, Hurricane Jeff a.k.a President Jeff. Seth didn't know what happened behind the scenes with the two, but knew he wasn't going to let others disagreements get in the way of a chance of working again. And besides, at this place several of his old friends and enemies had congregated so to speak. Seth stopped to think of the consequences of returning to the business, but he quickly banished those thoughts and sealed the envelope mere minutes before the courier arrived to take it to it's destination, the APW offices.

[stj]

So the scene flickers from that of Seth Storm speaking to me watching Seth Storm speaking with a look on my face that was between pissed off and amused. I shook my head as I realised that the camera had sneaked up on me, bastard cameramen. I sighed and looked at the camera, “So, I take it you're here for a response to what Seth Storm said about me, huh?” Well, of course, it's not like he was on his way to get a coffee, just happened to have his camera with him and took a wrong turn into my lockeroom. I rolled my eyes, that would be too much to ask for.

I sat down on the bench and looked straight at the camera, “Ok, so a familiar face turns up and drops my name just to, I don't know, pad out his début speech, perhaps? I'm still trying to figure that out now, but the thing is, Seth, it would be wise to, I don't know, do some research before dropping someone's name. You see, you spent a good two or three minutes talking about me, and would you know? You didn't say a true thing about me.”

I took a bottle of water from the floor and took a healthy swig of it, “First of all, there's the matter of my tagname...see, it was the Matriarch of Ultraviolence...I say was in the past tense because where do you see that name now? Do you see it on my roster page, perhaps? Or on any APW merchandise? You don't, you won't and the ring announcer will not introduce me using that tagname, simply because I don't use it. Now, I have never claimed to be the female Harley Race but it hardly takes a brain surgeon to do a little research, does it?” I gave a shrug of my shoulders, “As far as the Hardcore moves go, yes, I am still capable of and willing to swing a chair, a barbed wire two by four, maybe set up the odd glass pane as a table, but the thing is, no one actually knows me now. I have been out of the business for two years also, I have been through hundreds of hours of rehabilitation because I got jackknifed at the traffic lights, I have been through more than you could ever imagine, Seth, I have been through things that change people. The 'Spirit' Tara Jacobs that you knew, the tapes you have, the notes, throw them away, they will do you no good.”

I stood up and began to pace the room, slowly and deliberately, “The way that I speak? You didn't exactly expand upon that unless you meant the language, if that's the case, well fuck you you shitted up crapsack. Does it make you feel better to hear me say something like that? Put you on your moral high horse, perhaps? The thing about that is that you're high up...and just ready to be knocked off. Enjoy the fall. You said that I am a top notch professional wrestler when I want to be, you're half right. I am a top notch professional wrestler, but here is what you have never understood and why you will never have the edge that I do. I am proficient in several types of wrestling, and when one of those types doesn't work, because let's face it, when you face people either your sort of weight or much heavier than you, one style will not work for both, I am able to adapt. If you are taken out of your comfort zone, then you are in trouble. Do I care about my safety and others? Yes, I got over my self-hate issues, I got over my anger issues, but the fact remains that I will do whatever it takes to come out with the win, whatever it takes to survive, and if that means I have to jump from the turnbuckle, so be it. If I have to brain someone with a lead pipe, then I will do it, if the best way of fighting the opponent is to twist their limbs in directions they were not designed to be bent, then I can do that too.”

At this I stopped pacing and glared at the camera, “Now here's the bit that ticks me off, because you should know better. Look into my eyes, Seth, into these cold blue eyes, and ask yourself what you see. Look at the way I walk, the way I talk, the way I carry myself. Am I stoned to the eyeballs? Am I drunk so much that I can't tie my boots? I used, used to smoke pot, I used, used to chainsmoke, but when I chainsmoked, those were ordinary cigarettes. As for the drink...that doesn't even deserve a response. Newsflash. I have been straight edge since the late WWC days, that's three years. Because I know you'll bring it up, I haven't cut my wrists in two years. Whatever edge you think you had over me from any of that, it's disappeared, gone, and even when you had those edges, it was not enough.”

My eyes continued to burn a hole in the lens as my voice took on a dangerous growl, “I will remind you of what happened the last time you tried this little crusade. You came up against me and you failed miserably. You lost steam after that and faded away, because you could not back your words up. You are beneath my notice, Seth, you are a gnat on the bottom of my boot. Do yourself a favour, save yourself the beating that will come and keep it that way, drop this right now before I drop you. That is a Cold Hard Fact and Seth? THAT is motherfuckin' Gospel!”

I pushed my hand into the lens of the camera, knocking it away, and left my lockeroom as the scene faded into a random zany commercial.

["That Girl" Diana Lambardo]

Apr 7, 2008 13:17:51 GMT -4 @stj said:

Because I know you'll bring it up, I haven't cut my wrists in two years. Whatever edge you think you had over me from any of that, it's disappeared, gone, and even when you had those edges, it was not enough.”

Diana is so overwhelmingly proud of Spirit, she cries a little.

["That Girl" Diana Lambardo]

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