Post by Johnny Rebel on Dec 28, 2011 22:34:50 GMT -4
The scene opens to “Simply Put” Johnny Rebel being jolted out of bed to the sound of someone pounding at his hotel room door. The banging is obviously irritating him as he buries his head underneath a pillow in an effort to drown out the noise but the knocking is becoming louder by the moment. Coming to the realization that he isn’t getting the opportunity to go back to sleep, he slides his feet to the floor and swings the door open catching Sarah’s hand in mid knock.
“Rise and shine!” Sarah says with a bubbly expression. However, her tone quickly changes as she reaches up with both hands to cover her face.
“What do you want?” Rebel mumbles.
Sarah doesn’t respond verbally but points downward to point out the fact that Rebel isn’t wearing any pants.
“What time is it?” The Overdrive champion says while scratching his belly.
Sarah freaks out as she sees a mother and her young daughter walking down the hallway. In a panic, she pushes Rebel backwards into the hotel room and slams the door behind them. Rebel gently shoves Sarah away from him and looks at her with a disgusted expression.
“What is your problem!” Rebel asks.
Sarah knew better than to answer that question as she had become immune to Rebel’s antics over the past several months.
“Johnny,” Sarah begins, “I’m having second thoughts letting you participate in the Asylum supershow this Sunday evening.”
“Excuse me?” Rebel says. “Letting me? You aren’t letting me do anything! I’m the one who decides what matches that I’m going to take.”
“Let’s not pretend that you’re the one who keeps your schedule. You said you were going to take a break from all of this for a couple of weeks. You were going to go out and see some the world to get away from the craziness that has been the past several weeks. Between wrestling at Supremacy, Phoenix Wrestling and having to deal with Kurt Noble, it hasn’t exactly been a peaceful run for you!”
“Well, I changed my mind.” Rebel says while sliding on a pair of pants. “I can’t let this kid Bailey down now. This is the chance of a lifetime… his version of the SuperBowl. If I backed out now, he’d never recover!”
“I know, Johnny… it’s just…” Rebel holds his hand up interrupting Sarah’s thought.
“Look, we’ll figure things out. I’m still under contract to the APW and while I have a little flexibility, I fight whomever they throw in front of me. Even though I can’t stand President Jeff or his counterpart Reginald, they are still the two writing my paychecks. There’s only so much wheeling and dealing I can do with either one of them. Right now, I have my job to do and you have yours… the only thing that you have to take care of is making sure that I’m where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be there. Is that too much to ask?”
“I guess not… it’s just hard not to get bent out of shape. I guess it could be worse. I caught a few minutes of his latest promo against you. You weren’t kidding when you said this meant everything to him.”
“He’s banking his whole career on one match! He can’t be anymore ridiculous. I could understand the hyperbole if there was even a small chance that he might walk away the winner on Sunday evening but to think he even has a chance is laughable. He’s nothing but a pushover and was thrown the lifeline from Reginald. He should count this as a blessing to even be on the same card as Johnny Rebel let alone the same match. The two of us aren’t even in the same zip code… this is basically an extended vacation with a chance to pound in the face of some greenhorn who thinks going to embarrass me—the Overdrive champion! Get a load of that!”
“He does have a point though, Johnny…” Sarah says as Rebel has a confused look on his face.
“Are you sure you want to finish that statement?” Johnny responds.
“You talk as if you have the APW locked down already. You just won the Overdrive championship back… shouldn’t you focus on holding on to that before you worry about the Undisputed championship and being in the main event of a brand that you aren’t likely to be apart of again for awhile?”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—the Overdrive championship is the premier title in all of professional wrestling. C.J. may claim to be at the top of the mountain right now especially considering his sweep of Biggs over the past few months… however, I’m the top dog in APW! Everybody knows that the Overdrive brand reigns supreme in these circles and right now it’s my name that’s encased in gold across the bottom of this championship belt. The answer to your question is no, I’m not getting ahead of myself.”
“You know that Kurt Noble isn’t going to let you sit back and ignore him. He’s going to come for his rematch… after all, the two of you are even at one match a piece.”
“If Kurt thinks he’s entitled to another title shot than he’s dreaming! Now that I’m the Overdrive champion again I’m the one calling the shots and trust me if I have any say-so in it then Kurt Noble isn’t coming anywhere near Johnny Rebel and my Overdrive title! Hopefully, he’ll be tuning in to Asylum this week and he’ll see what a real champion looks like. He’s nothing but a washed up hack! Now come on, since we’re awake, let’s get some breakfast!”
There is nothing more pathetic than watching a young hotshot try and stake his claim to playing with the big boys. It’s almost like trying to watch a pickup basketball game at the local YMCA. There is always the guy who is 5’ foot nothing and thinks he’s making a run at the NBA by dropping fifty points on a group of middle school children. He spins, shoves and does everything possible to try and score and until the adults step on the floor, he’s the king of the court! However, at some point, the big boys are coming to play and that guy is left on the sideline chugging Gatorade and tugging at his knee brace incessantly.
Pull out your notebook and follow along because I’m going to give you a free lesson about those fans that you have sold your soul to. These fans count it an absolute privilege to drain their bank account each week to sit ringside and watch me in action. Without my name on the billing this place becomes a little more drab and boring and who would spend their money then? These people sit ringside and drool on themselves for the rare opportunity that I might actually stare in their eyes! Have you actually seen the type of mouth-breathers that call themselves fans? I can’t get past their camouflage overalls and coonskin hats! These are the type of people you draw your inspiration from? After all, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised… you’re still young and dumb enough to actually believe the mindless drivel that spews out of your own mouth.
They say be careful what you wish for, and as cliché as it might sound it’s true. You know that just as well as I do. Continue to go through the tapes, YouTube videos, and anything else you need to help you convince yourself that you might have the upper hand. You see, you’re already so caught up in predicting the outcome of our match that you don’t even realize that I’m already one step ahead of you! I’ve made a career on being able to defeat an opponent before they even step into the ring with me… and you, Bailey, have already defeated yourself.
So, please continue to manipulate these idiot fans by preaching to them what you think they want to hear. Let me break it down: you don’t have a clue as to what to expect when you walk through that curtain for the first time on Sunday evening!
I have no doubt that you’re the type of person to hightail it out of the ring as soon as things start to get a little hairy. You can sit back and demand respect until you’re blue in the face but I’ll never respect you because you’re nothing more than a coward! It’s easy for you to sit back and throw daggers because you have never stepped in that ring before and don’t have a clue as to what to expect. A real hero would have done what he had to do without running his mouth and writing checks that he doesn’t even know if he can cash. You’ve never had to confront adversity and over take it! You’ve never faced your biggest fears and destroyed them. However, this Sunday evening at Asylum, you’re going to come face to face with your biggest fear of all: being forgotten! That’s what is going to happen if you can’t cash in on all these promises that you’ve been making. Perhaps Reginald thought it would be an appropriate litmus test for you in your first match in APW because he wanted to make sure that you could suffer defeat without stomping your feet and throwing a fit!
Actually, if you asked me months ago if I would have ever gotten in to the ring with someone like Anthony Bailey, I would have laughed until my stomach started hurting. Why wouldn’t I? It’s a well-know fact that so many men and women come in to Action Packed Wrestling full of piss, vinegar and a self-righteous belief that they might just matter. Ultimately though, the grand majority of these man and women simply vanish never to be heard from again. They can’t handle the competition, weak as it may be, and when they realize they cannot reach the lofty heights that they so desperately wish to obtain? They wilt. They quit. They walk away!
It sounds like to me that you want to be great… you’ll quickly find out that you’re allergic to success! Sure, maybe you were talented on the lower levels—the amateur rungs—but you’ve now found your way to the big leagues! But when you’re faced with something great? You fail… you falter… you lose! You’re a talented little boy but unfortunately you’re matched up with the greatest wrestler that this business has ever seen! I’m everything that you want to be but could never get close to achieving. Simply put… I’m the ideal you!
You’ve done good for yourself to get you to this point… even if your achievements are only impressive to the masses of nosepickers who cheer you relentlessly for no apparent reason. But you’re not good enough to be in the ring with me. You’re not good enough to face off with a man of my caliber and while I’m sure that you’ll disagree, you’re not good enough to come anywhere close to beating me. To me… you’re just a peasant. You’re no different to me than the bums that line the interstate begging for somebody to flip them a dime. You’re just a faceless, barely notable little boy… and I’m the king of this place, walking high about the filth that you call your career. At Asylum, you’ll come to realize all too clear that for all your desires and all your attempts to be just like me—your new hero---that you’re no Johnny Rebel! You’re barely even a Branden Harvey. You’ll be another footnote in my career… and you shouldn’t have asked for this opportunity.
However, if you’re lucky I might leave you my autograph… perhaps even let you pose with the Overdrive championship because that’s the closest you’ll EVER get to being me!
#SIMPLY
#F’N
#PUT!
“Rise and shine!” Sarah says with a bubbly expression. However, her tone quickly changes as she reaches up with both hands to cover her face.
“What do you want?” Rebel mumbles.
Sarah doesn’t respond verbally but points downward to point out the fact that Rebel isn’t wearing any pants.
“What time is it?” The Overdrive champion says while scratching his belly.
Sarah freaks out as she sees a mother and her young daughter walking down the hallway. In a panic, she pushes Rebel backwards into the hotel room and slams the door behind them. Rebel gently shoves Sarah away from him and looks at her with a disgusted expression.
“What is your problem!” Rebel asks.
Sarah knew better than to answer that question as she had become immune to Rebel’s antics over the past several months.
“Johnny,” Sarah begins, “I’m having second thoughts letting you participate in the Asylum supershow this Sunday evening.”
“Excuse me?” Rebel says. “Letting me? You aren’t letting me do anything! I’m the one who decides what matches that I’m going to take.”
“Let’s not pretend that you’re the one who keeps your schedule. You said you were going to take a break from all of this for a couple of weeks. You were going to go out and see some the world to get away from the craziness that has been the past several weeks. Between wrestling at Supremacy, Phoenix Wrestling and having to deal with Kurt Noble, it hasn’t exactly been a peaceful run for you!”
“Well, I changed my mind.” Rebel says while sliding on a pair of pants. “I can’t let this kid Bailey down now. This is the chance of a lifetime… his version of the SuperBowl. If I backed out now, he’d never recover!”
“I know, Johnny… it’s just…” Rebel holds his hand up interrupting Sarah’s thought.
“Look, we’ll figure things out. I’m still under contract to the APW and while I have a little flexibility, I fight whomever they throw in front of me. Even though I can’t stand President Jeff or his counterpart Reginald, they are still the two writing my paychecks. There’s only so much wheeling and dealing I can do with either one of them. Right now, I have my job to do and you have yours… the only thing that you have to take care of is making sure that I’m where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be there. Is that too much to ask?”
“I guess not… it’s just hard not to get bent out of shape. I guess it could be worse. I caught a few minutes of his latest promo against you. You weren’t kidding when you said this meant everything to him.”
“He’s banking his whole career on one match! He can’t be anymore ridiculous. I could understand the hyperbole if there was even a small chance that he might walk away the winner on Sunday evening but to think he even has a chance is laughable. He’s nothing but a pushover and was thrown the lifeline from Reginald. He should count this as a blessing to even be on the same card as Johnny Rebel let alone the same match. The two of us aren’t even in the same zip code… this is basically an extended vacation with a chance to pound in the face of some greenhorn who thinks going to embarrass me—the Overdrive champion! Get a load of that!”
“He does have a point though, Johnny…” Sarah says as Rebel has a confused look on his face.
“Are you sure you want to finish that statement?” Johnny responds.
“You talk as if you have the APW locked down already. You just won the Overdrive championship back… shouldn’t you focus on holding on to that before you worry about the Undisputed championship and being in the main event of a brand that you aren’t likely to be apart of again for awhile?”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—the Overdrive championship is the premier title in all of professional wrestling. C.J. may claim to be at the top of the mountain right now especially considering his sweep of Biggs over the past few months… however, I’m the top dog in APW! Everybody knows that the Overdrive brand reigns supreme in these circles and right now it’s my name that’s encased in gold across the bottom of this championship belt. The answer to your question is no, I’m not getting ahead of myself.”
“You know that Kurt Noble isn’t going to let you sit back and ignore him. He’s going to come for his rematch… after all, the two of you are even at one match a piece.”
“If Kurt thinks he’s entitled to another title shot than he’s dreaming! Now that I’m the Overdrive champion again I’m the one calling the shots and trust me if I have any say-so in it then Kurt Noble isn’t coming anywhere near Johnny Rebel and my Overdrive title! Hopefully, he’ll be tuning in to Asylum this week and he’ll see what a real champion looks like. He’s nothing but a washed up hack! Now come on, since we’re awake, let’s get some breakfast!”
*****
There is nothing more pathetic than watching a young hotshot try and stake his claim to playing with the big boys. It’s almost like trying to watch a pickup basketball game at the local YMCA. There is always the guy who is 5’ foot nothing and thinks he’s making a run at the NBA by dropping fifty points on a group of middle school children. He spins, shoves and does everything possible to try and score and until the adults step on the floor, he’s the king of the court! However, at some point, the big boys are coming to play and that guy is left on the sideline chugging Gatorade and tugging at his knee brace incessantly.
Pull out your notebook and follow along because I’m going to give you a free lesson about those fans that you have sold your soul to. These fans count it an absolute privilege to drain their bank account each week to sit ringside and watch me in action. Without my name on the billing this place becomes a little more drab and boring and who would spend their money then? These people sit ringside and drool on themselves for the rare opportunity that I might actually stare in their eyes! Have you actually seen the type of mouth-breathers that call themselves fans? I can’t get past their camouflage overalls and coonskin hats! These are the type of people you draw your inspiration from? After all, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised… you’re still young and dumb enough to actually believe the mindless drivel that spews out of your own mouth.
They say be careful what you wish for, and as cliché as it might sound it’s true. You know that just as well as I do. Continue to go through the tapes, YouTube videos, and anything else you need to help you convince yourself that you might have the upper hand. You see, you’re already so caught up in predicting the outcome of our match that you don’t even realize that I’m already one step ahead of you! I’ve made a career on being able to defeat an opponent before they even step into the ring with me… and you, Bailey, have already defeated yourself.
So, please continue to manipulate these idiot fans by preaching to them what you think they want to hear. Let me break it down: you don’t have a clue as to what to expect when you walk through that curtain for the first time on Sunday evening!
I have no doubt that you’re the type of person to hightail it out of the ring as soon as things start to get a little hairy. You can sit back and demand respect until you’re blue in the face but I’ll never respect you because you’re nothing more than a coward! It’s easy for you to sit back and throw daggers because you have never stepped in that ring before and don’t have a clue as to what to expect. A real hero would have done what he had to do without running his mouth and writing checks that he doesn’t even know if he can cash. You’ve never had to confront adversity and over take it! You’ve never faced your biggest fears and destroyed them. However, this Sunday evening at Asylum, you’re going to come face to face with your biggest fear of all: being forgotten! That’s what is going to happen if you can’t cash in on all these promises that you’ve been making. Perhaps Reginald thought it would be an appropriate litmus test for you in your first match in APW because he wanted to make sure that you could suffer defeat without stomping your feet and throwing a fit!
Actually, if you asked me months ago if I would have ever gotten in to the ring with someone like Anthony Bailey, I would have laughed until my stomach started hurting. Why wouldn’t I? It’s a well-know fact that so many men and women come in to Action Packed Wrestling full of piss, vinegar and a self-righteous belief that they might just matter. Ultimately though, the grand majority of these man and women simply vanish never to be heard from again. They can’t handle the competition, weak as it may be, and when they realize they cannot reach the lofty heights that they so desperately wish to obtain? They wilt. They quit. They walk away!
It sounds like to me that you want to be great… you’ll quickly find out that you’re allergic to success! Sure, maybe you were talented on the lower levels—the amateur rungs—but you’ve now found your way to the big leagues! But when you’re faced with something great? You fail… you falter… you lose! You’re a talented little boy but unfortunately you’re matched up with the greatest wrestler that this business has ever seen! I’m everything that you want to be but could never get close to achieving. Simply put… I’m the ideal you!
You’ve done good for yourself to get you to this point… even if your achievements are only impressive to the masses of nosepickers who cheer you relentlessly for no apparent reason. But you’re not good enough to be in the ring with me. You’re not good enough to face off with a man of my caliber and while I’m sure that you’ll disagree, you’re not good enough to come anywhere close to beating me. To me… you’re just a peasant. You’re no different to me than the bums that line the interstate begging for somebody to flip them a dime. You’re just a faceless, barely notable little boy… and I’m the king of this place, walking high about the filth that you call your career. At Asylum, you’ll come to realize all too clear that for all your desires and all your attempts to be just like me—your new hero---that you’re no Johnny Rebel! You’re barely even a Branden Harvey. You’ll be another footnote in my career… and you shouldn’t have asked for this opportunity.
However, if you’re lucky I might leave you my autograph… perhaps even let you pose with the Overdrive championship because that’s the closest you’ll EVER get to being me!
#SIMPLY
#F’N
#PUT!
