Whatever It Takes

[T-Marv]

DOUBT!

Sometimes you can be at the top of the world, feeling like a million bucks and thinking you have the entire universe at your fingertips. You can be blinded by success and not realize for one second that you’re living in a fantasy land created in your own head. But one sentence, one meaningless sentence that otherwise wouldn’t even ring into your own eardrums crashes into our dream land and shatters it into nothing more than tiny specks of dust floating off into the ether. Then you realize…. It’s time to get REAL

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APW contracted Autograph signing – Indianapolis Indiana – 03/16/2012

“What the fuck am I doing here?” The voice comes from the APW Overdrive champion, Terry Marvin as he stands in a large conference room surrounded by thousands of fans waiting for the security guards to let them through. Set up in front of him is a large table filled with photos, and mugs, and other assorted items with Terry’s face plastered all over them, available at a substantial fee I’m sure. Terry grunts at the over-commercialization of the Greatest event that APW showcases and looks at the thousands waiting to get a autograph from him.

His wife Faythe stands by his side and rubs her hand on his shoulders to reassure him. “It’s part of the contract for this match and it’s only an hour. You can sign a few autographs can’t you?”

“For these people? For these insignificant pricks who endlessly boo and insult me week in and week out? They hate me…why would they want an autograph?”

Faythe Shrugs. “You’re famous. People cling to fame no matter how notorious people are, no matter how much they pretend not to like someone…they will jump at any opportunity to be around greatness. Why do you think most of the annoying celebrities have a huge following? It’s because fame rules everything. Hell, Charlie Sheen is the most hated man on the planet and he’s got chicks lined up to blow him leading around the block. It is possible to be loved and hated at the same time.”

“Ok, then why the hell would I want to sign an autograph for one of them? I can’t STAND those people. They mean nothing for me.”

Faythe just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Sure, whatever you’ve got to say to make yourself feel better.”

Terry looks at her confused. “What?”

Faythe laughs and wraps her arms around his neck. “Look, I love you babe, but as much as you say you don’t need or want the attention of these fans….You’re FULL OF SHIT!” Terry begins to argue with her but Faythe stops him. “I know what you’re going to say. You don’t care about the fans… you don’t want them to like you. And you’re half right. You don’t want them to like you. You want them to hate you! You thrive off of their seething hatred for you, you’re fueled by their boos, by their disrespect, by their overall loathing of you. You use that as motivation to shove it right down their throats. It’s the entertainer in you…not the wrestler that panders to these fans. And you still do pander to them, but unlike Keaton Saint, you’re not begging for their undying love and affection, you are feeding their hate and disgust. Some people, like Keaton, pull their strength and energy from this unnatural source of love and devotion from the fans, as if all their positive energy is just going to WILL him to kick out of a pin or WILL him to recover all energy and best his opponent. However, you’re not that delusional. You turn these fans against you so that you have motivation, true purpose to prove them wrong. That’s how you thrive, that’s how you come out victorious. You work by taking people’s expectations and desires for you to fail and shove them right down their throats!”

Terry smiles at this explanation. “Damn! Didn’t realize you knew me so well!”

“I should, I fucking married you after all. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to sign every autograph they ask for and you’re going to do it the SHOWTIME way. You’re going to smile… you’re going to nod…and you’re going to make some off the cuff remark at them that lets them leave here wishing they could rip out your throat and put it on display down at the trailer park for all their barefoot hillbilly friends to simile their barren gums at and admire!” She smiles a little bit and pats him on the back before walking off.

Terry just smiles and shakes his head, being reminded once again why he married his wonderful woman. He waves at the security manning the ropes and takes his place behind the table to greet the rushing APW fans with an abundance of money in their hands to throw at the APW marketing machines. Terry scoffs for a second realizing just how much cash he’s about to put in President Jeff’s fucking wallet. That’s reason enough to blow this thing all to shit.

“Hey kid… who’s your favorite APW Megastar?” Some dorky looking 15 year old kid is first in line and obviously been waiting days without showering as Terry has to suppress the tears from his eyes as the smell wafts in and melts his nose hairs. He expects someone stupid like Kurt Noble, or CJ Gates, or Keaton Saint or…..

“Sally Talfourd” The kid says it with such joy and exuberance, you’d think he just got done rubbing it out to downloaded pictures of sally Talfourd’s face on Rosanne Barr’s naked body. (Everybody just puked reading this). Terry smiles as the kid hands the attendant standing next to him wads of cash and a issue of Wrestling Insider with Terry’s face plastered over the cover is slid in front of him.

“I guess there’s no accounting for bad taste. So, you just want me to make this out to Eugene?”

“But my name is….”

“Dear Eugene…. Next time you try to touch a bit of Greatness, Brush your FUCKING TEETH you plaque ridden mother fucker. Your breath smells like the silent but deadlies I get every time I watch a fucking Keaton Saint promo. Also, wash your hands and scrub off the cum stain from your 50 cent welfare jeans and realize that somebody ‘special’ like you should never attend an autograph session for somebody who’s made a living out of putting little bitches in their place.

Sincerely,
The Real Show Terry Marvin”

Terry hands the kid back his magazine and he begins to get all huffy.

“Hey man, I paid good money for this. You’re an asshole. I want my money back.”

"Oh, I’m sorry. Did the truth throw you off a bit? Well here, let me spread some more on you. Get really good at math or something, because you’re about to have an EXTREMELY difficult life. You look like somebody jizzed all over your face and dipped you in a vat of red skittles. You will never get laid unless you pay for it. I know you idolize us wrestlers and pretend that some day you could be just like us but WAKE THE FUCK UP poindexter, you’re 5 feet tall and 300 pounds, you look like Napoleon ate 2 tons of shit! You have no athletic ability and the charisma of an STD. Now take your fucking magazine and get the hell out of here.”

Eugene looks like he’s gonna start to complain about his money but then just bursts out into tears as most of the crowd around him begins to boo and scream profanity at Terry. Eugene runs off and Terry nods satisfied and smiles.

“On second thought… I think I’m gonna like this gig.

.
.
.

The time drones on and on, as every single piece of shit in the universe comes up to Terry begging for an autograph, knowing they’re about to get insulted in a way they won’t be able to handle. I don’t know if they’re a glutton for punishment, or if they just think this is all part of the show. But as the day goes on, the fans get angrier and angrier at Terry and this just pushes him harder to make their lives a living hell. The only real autograph he gave is when some big fucking biker dude and his slutty girlfriend wearing a white tee shirt so tight that her nipples were basically begging Terry to reach out and grab ‘em. When the guy slides the picture in front of Terry to sign, he rips it up and instead uses the magic marker to sign his girls breasts, leaving his number under them. She smiles and kisses him on the cheek, obviously appreciating the gesture, but the guy doesn’t take it so kindly as he takes a swing at Terry only to be dragged away.

"I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

"I don’t think you will. You see, those guys holding your arms, aren’t protecting me, they’re keeping your pathetic ass breathing. Why don’t you go jump on your fucking crotch rocket with the giant dildo embedded in the seat for your pleasure? The fact of the matter is you’re just jealous that your bitch wants nothing more than to crawl under the table and find out what it’s like to have something larger than a thumbtack between her lips. Fortunately for you, I’m a happily married man so she gets to leave here the same way she goes to sleep every night, disappointed and unfulfilled. Get the hell out of here Hells Angel before I beat your ass and use your face as a toilet bowl!

Ahh, that felt good! Terry smiles as they drag the biker away. His chick stops to blow a kiss back to Terry. Too bad Terry is a committed husband or he would bang the shit out of her from now until Rasslemania…Regardless of the amount of VD he will no doubt receive.

.
.
.

Finally after way too long, Terry is down to his last signing. Oddly enough he enjoyed himself and realized that Faythe was right. He relishes in giving the crowd a hard time. It pushes him, motivates him. Getting them all riled up, gets him fired up as well and in the right mindset to go out to that ring and handle his business. It’s a shame that Rasslemania isn’t right now, cause he’s more pumped for it than anything else in his entire life, ever!

The last guy steps up to his table and Terry is afraid to even look up. He just keeps his head down, expecting some overprice piece of merchandise to be thrust under his nose.

"It’s Showtime!”

“What the fuck?” is the only thing that goes through Terry’s mind. He has to look up now to see the poor son of a bitch who’s about to get his ass ripped open by a verbal hurricane. But when he looks up, he sees something that he doesn’t expect…. A man in his mid 30s wearing a classic “It’s ShowTime” Tee shirt. He has a box of memorabilia, shit that only somebody who had followed his whole career could possibly have. He smiles and shakes a little bit as he is about to presumably meet his idol.

"Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m standing here right now. Dude, you are by far the greatest wrestler to ever live. I’ve followed your entire career. All the way through RWF…CFW…RMP...ROP…and now here in APW for the second time! I am a huge fan.”

The urge is still there in Terry to rip this guy a new one. After all, what the fuck does he know? Just as he’s about to lay into this guy, he spots something out of the corner of his eye. In the box, there is a replica title belt that says “RWF WORLD CHAMPION” on it with Terry’s Nameplate bolted to the front of it.

"Where the hell did you get this?”

Terry’s question is understandable. This was a replica of the first World Title he’d ever won. The company was so under funded that they didn’t have merchandising. The wrestlers sold their own merch that they had to have made themselves. One of these never actually existed.

"I told you. I followed you your whole career and now Even the very beginning. I’ve been hooked since the second I heard you cut an amazing promo. I made this replica days after you won your first title. I know fans give you a hard time, boo you, hate you or whatever. I know you want them to hate you, but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to do it. You’ll always have one person cheering for you no matter what.”

Terry wanted to insult him…wanted to disparage him, but he just couldn’t. Just like the fucking Grinch at the end of that lame ass cartoon, Terry’s heart grew two sizes. He didn’t know if he pitied this guy for being so hopelessly optimistic, or if he was actually trying to hit on him or what… But Terry was just tired of dishing out the shit to everyone all day and it was actually refreshing to see someone who actually rooted for him day in and day out.

"Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today. Pick anything… I’ll sign it free of charge.”

The guys face lit up like he’d just seen a set of boobs up close for the first time ever. Terry was a little worried that he’d try to fuck him, but was sure he could fight him off just the same. The guy pulled out an official APW Overdrive Title Replica Belt and slid it on the table. Terry gladly signs this.

"I’d better get this one signed while your still champion.”

And all those feelings come to a screeching halt. The guy sees the fury in Terry’s eyes as he glares up at him and tries to explain.

"Don’t get me wrong, you’re an awesome champion and I hope you keep it forever. But you’re in an I QUIT match. It’s really hard to scam a victory in this type of match.”

"Scam a victory?”

"Yeah, well I mean it’s what you do best! You’re over the hill and past the prime of your career so you use your cunning and quick wit to steal victories from people who may be just a little more talented than you.”

Terry’s not sure if his guy is trying to insult him or not, but he’s doing one hell of a job at it. As Terry angrily stands up and glares at him, The guy realizes he’s digging a hole.

"It’s not that I don’t think you’re a great wrestler and could have beaten Keaton at one point. It’s just that….well, look at your past few matches. You got a fluke victory over Level One because somebody interfered in that match. You won that title in a clusterfuck of a fatal four way with distractions abound. You beat John Dionysus when he was distracted by outside interference. Then when you re-matched with him, you didn’t have that luxury, and he got one over on you. You can beat Keaton Saint… that’s not a question, I just don’t think you can out wrestle him anymore….especially in an I Quit Match where there is no way to bullshit a victory. ”

The fire burns in Terry’s eyes as the fan braces for a barrage of insults. Just as Terry’s about to open up and explode, a thought hits him like a ton of bricks. He went back and thought about those matches in question and realized that this guy was ABSOLUTELY right. At the time, Terry thought it was all just part of the match, that it was just a simple thing that added to his overall victory. But when he looks back, he is yet to win a real match on his own. This is a bitter pill to swallow, as Terry does in fact look like he’s got a terrible taste in his mouth. He falls back in his chair depressed and the fan takes this opportunity to take his stuff and get the hell out of there, lucky to leave with his skin intact.

After a couple seconds go by, Faythe comes walking back over to check on Terry.

"I see you survived the whole day, and only one report of security ejecting a guy....must say that's a new record for you. ”

Terry barely even acknowledges her existence, lost in the thought of his failures.

"Hey, everything ok?”

"I’m a fraud.”

"What?”

"I’m going to lose my title. I can’t beat Keaton Saint….”

"The Hell? I was gone for an hour, what the hell happened?”

"I gotta go.”

Terry stands up and quickly walks away from the area. Faythe is standing there with an utterly confused look on her face as the scene fades to black.

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And just like that, an idea is born. One simple thought that festers and festers and grows and mutates into this all consuming entity that just eats at you till you can no longer breathe, no longer feel, no longer move. It numbs you because you can’t shake the thought the feeling. To be told that I’m not good enough is nothing new for me. But to actually realize it myself, is something that I just can’t handle. I’m afraid of this thought, afraid of this feeling, but more so afraid that it might actually be true.

I only knew one thing… I HAD TO WIN this match at Rasslemania. Failing to do so would kill me, would literally kill me and end all semblance of the being I used to be. But how can I beat Keaton Saint now that the idea was planted that I’m not good enough to do so.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

When man is at his most vulnerable state and looking for answers, he will call upon the devil!!!

Unknown Location – 03/18/2012

The scene slowly fades in on a empty conference room overlooking a great city view. Standing looking out the window is the MOST decorated champion the APW has ever seen and no doubt a legend in our business…. LEVEL-ONE As he is standing there, staring at the view, his thoughts are interrupted by his little “sidekick” Andrew Meltzer.

"Um Lester….”

Level-One doesn’t even turn. He just lets out an annoyed sigh. "For the last time Andrew… I don’t want to be disturbed.”

"I know…I know, I heard you. But there seems to be a situation. I told him that you were busy, but he couldn’t be turned away.”

"I don’t feel like playing games right now, Andrew. WHO could not be turned away?”

Andrew is about to answer, but doesn’t have even the slightest chance. A ruckus is made outside of the room and a voice can be heard shouting. "Look sugar tits, I don’t give a shit about your Syndicate and I certainly don’t care how important HE thinks he is. He’s gonna make time for me!!!”

Level-One raises his eyebrows as APW Overdrive Champion Terry Marvin walks through the door shoving Andrew out of his way and looking dead on at Level-One. Andrew looks over to Level One. "You would think this place would have better security than this. So now we let any old bum wonder in drunkenly off the street?”

"Remind me Lester…what’s our head to head record again? The facts seem to allude me right now.”

Lester just smiles right back at Terry’s smirk and then nods at Andrew to leave the room. The two APW megastars don’t move an inch, their eyes focused directly on each other.

"For the life of me, I can’t imagine what you would want.” Level-One speaks slow and deliberately, trying to hide his animosity toward the person standing opposite him.

“What? Can’t an old friend just pop in and see how you’re doing? Love the new digs by the way, and nice going on the sisters by the way. You know, I bagged a couple of sisters once, it’s actually an interesting story.” Level-One’s expression doesn’t change as Terry realizes that his story telling isn’t quite going to cut it this time. "Look, I need some….ugh this is absolutely killing me to say this….I need some advice.”

Level-One stumbles a bit and almost falls over. He shakes his head and clears his throat. "I think I’m having a stroke. My vision must be blurry and I must be imagining things. It seems like THE REAL SHOW just asked my advice on something and I know that can’t be true, so why are you really here?”

Terry just stands there with his eyes crossed. "Are you quite finished?”

The shock on Level-One’s face is real this time. ”Wait, seriously? You’re actually coming to me asking for my help? This has got to be some kind of joke. I mean, after the way you were bragging about your fluke victory over me, you’d have thought you were way beyond the expertise of someone like me.”

Terry rolls his eyes and turns to the door. "This was a terrible idea.”

Level-One stops him from leaving. "Oh it definitely was that, but now you’ve got me intrigued. What is it you need my advice on?”

Terry stands there for a second, obviously fighting an internal battle with himself. Level One watches on, somewhat amused by these turns of events. "Keaton Saint….How do I beat Keaton Saint.”

Level-One bursts out into laughter now. What did Terry expect, open arms? A joyous greeting? No, this is pretty much what he expected. But he figured it was worth a shot.

"Why on earth would you come to me and ask me something like that?”

"Because you’ve beaten him….a lot. I figured if anybody knew how, it would be you.”

"Wow, trying the flattery approach now are we? And why would you EVER think I’d help you?”

"I didn’t, but it was worth a shot right?”

Level-One begins laughing at him now. "When did you become so pathetic?”

Terry lets out a deep sigh and heads for the door, but not before stopping and turning around. "Call it pathetic, call it desperate, call it whatever you want. I just became relevant in the APW after a year of broken promises and being the punch line of WAY too many jokes. I have stood in the shadows of WAY too many men, have watched as people who didn’t deserve it got the shots that I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN! And now, I’m the man getting the shots, getting the respect. And I’m desperately trying to cling hold of that. If I lose to Keaton…If I just bow out now and fail on such EPIC proportions, then I go back to that feeling of complete failure. I need to beat Keaton Saint…I need to win, I just don’t know if I can.”

"You can’t.” Level-One speaks plainly and strait to Terry who looks at him with a confused look on his face. "Just listen to yourself. You’ve let the seeds of doubt creep into your brain and infect your confidence with a cancer that eats away at it. The second you let that happen, you already lost.”

Terry just smirks. "You’ve been so helpful Lester, thanks.”

Level-One seems like he’s fighting a battle in his own brain and then lets out an exasperated sigh… "Luckily, I dislike Keaton Saint way more than you right now… First things first… you have to realize that you can beat Keaton Saint. Hell, you beat me and I’m by far the best wrestler who has ever lived…so therefore you can beat anybody.”

"Thought my victory was a fluke...”

"It was, but fluke or not, you did everything it took to get the victory in that match. You took advantage of every single opportunity you possibly could. That’s your key to beating Keaton Saint. Regardless of whether or not he’s more talented or your more talented, or whatever…that doesn’t matter. Keaton is the ‘Patron Saint’ of APW. He is Mr. Play it by the book. No matter what, he won’t compromise his moral code just to get a victory in the ring. And that is his downfall, every time. He misses opportunity after opportunity, and eventually that will leave one open for you to take him down. You’ve just got to be willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. And I’ve seen you in that ring…you’ll stab your own mother in the back and crawl over her dead corpse just to get the victory. And trust me, that’s more of a compliment than it sounds.”

Terry soaks this in and thinks for a bit before nodding at Level-One and reaching for the door knob. He stops just short of opening the door. “I realize that you and I will never be catching a beer with each other at any hole in the wall bar late at night. But there’s a reason I came to you over the thousand of other outlets I could have sought advice at…You are the best APW has to offer. I know that sounds like some pathetic fan kissing your ass, but it’s not. Personally I think you’re a piece of shit and you know that. But professionally I respect the hell out of you. As for Sally, she’s too fake, too fraudulent. She annoys me, and there’s nothing more I’d like to see than you putting her in her place at Rasslemania.”

Terry stops and looks at Level-One. “I’d say good luck, but that sounds cheesy. I’d say thanks, but we both know I don’t mean it. However, I realize that Rasslemania is the Level-One show…for now. Maybe one day, it’ll be me kicking your teeth in at the big stage.”

"Maybe you should get past Keaton first before flaunting out those pipe dreams.”

They exchange smirks and nod at each other as Terry leaves the conference room leaving Level-One with only one thought…. “Ok, so…that was odd.”

The scene fades to black.

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There is nothing worse in than losing confidence in yourself. It feels like a piece of your soul has just washed away into an unreachable dimension….you can see it, but can’t quite reach out and grab it. It wasn’t just the words of Level One to bring that confidence back to me. It wasn’t just the fact that I realized that I was an immature asshole and being a whiny little bitch that brought that confidence back to me. It wasn’t the hours and hours and hours and hours and hours….etc of sexual activity from Faythe that brought my confidence back to me. In fact, I realized that my confidence never actually left…I just forgot the biggest key in keeping it, remembering who I am!

I am The Real Show.

I am The Greatest thing to EVER happen to wrestling.

I am the APW OVERDRIVE CHAMPION.

When I forgot those things… it felt worse than losing my parents, worse than losing my only daughter, worse than any other feeling in the world. The explanation for that is quite simple…it felt like I was giving up. It felt like I was Quitting….However the feeling was destined to be short lived for one simple fact, one embedded section of my soul that will forever ring true, a fact that Keaton Saint will soon learn….

I WILL NEVER QUIT!!!

Terry is sitting in a dark lounge staring at the APW Overdrive Championship that he has mounted on the wall.

"I know what you’re all thinking, that I lost my self confidence, that I’m beginning to doubt myself. Well, you’re half right. I did something that I’ve promised myself to never do, I let doubt seep into my brain and poison my thoughts. That is a mistake that I will not make again. You see, when you’ve had a rocky relationship with a company like I have with APW…it’s easy to think that you’re not good enough, that you’re all talk and no action.

But then I can look over there at that Overdrive champion and realize the truth that I am the cream of the crop in this company and that I have the guts, the passion and the heart to beat any deadbeat freak that stands in my path. Dumb luck and coincidence can’t make you a champion. That foundation is built on the blood and sweat of hard work and perseverance. And there isn’t a single soul that defines perseverance like yours truly. “

Terry stands up and walks over to the wall where there are pictures hanging. There is a promotional picture of Terry standing next to a 2011 Rasslemania 7 banner with his Overdrive Championship match opponents.

"Just look at this for example. Last year at Rasslemania I was in a huge match for the Overdrive title…One of the biggest of my entire career. I lost that title by inches… INCHES. It was the most difficult defeat that I have ever faced and it sent me on a tailspin of epic proportions. I came crashing hard down to earth. My life was unraveling and it looked like things were over for me. I was ready to hang up my boots and let history judge me for what I had already accomplished.

But then, then something occurred to me. This feeling of emptiness… like I was in the middle of watching this great epic movie, and just when things were getting good, the movie ended. I left there unfulfilled and certainly unsatisfied. And I just couldn’t let my APW career slip away in sheer silence like that. So once again, I persevered and here I am awaiting Rasslemania 8… and perhaps the most important one in the history of APW. And why did I get to this point? Why am I entering Rasslemania the overdrive champion? Because I never gave up… I NEVER QUIT, not for one second! “

Terry smiles and turns back to the camera.

“Speaking of Never quitting….This year I am the Overdrive champion… I am the man on the top of the hill, and there is one pesky climber trying to knock me off my perch. He is a man who has made a lot of noise since joining APW, but hasn’t quite made the giant splash that he probably imagines that he has. Keaton Saint has the nerve to challenge me for the one thing that I have desired more in this life than anything else…APW gold. He has the gull to think that he’s championship material when in reality he’s nothing more than a dreamer reaching outside of his comfort zone and stretching FAR beyond his pay grade. But for the time being, I will amuse him because he has in fact had a pretty solid run thus far. Since there isn’t a soul on Overdrive that actually DESERVES a title shot, might as well give it to the only LOSER in the fatal four way that ISNT in the main event. But you see, Keaton didn’t even have the common decency to come right out and challenge me. No, instead he passed moral judgment on me for a couple weeks while he stalked me like some 50 year old pervert with a trench coat and a pair of binoculars. He had to be coy… basically FORCING me to make the damn challenge for him.

You see Keaton, you didn’t have the balls to challenge me man to man. But you do have the balls to stand there and speak out against me, against my choices like some mother fucking bible thumper who shoves their beliefs so far up my ass that I may actually absorb some of them and start to think of them as MY thoughts. If there is one thing I can’t stand in this world Keaton…it’s a self righteous prick who thinks it’s his job to involve himself in other peoples affairs. Let me make this perfectly clear Captain Do-Gooder…I DON’T FUCKING ANSWER TO YOU! You paint yourself as this high and mighty prick who is only here to appease the fans, and do what’s right by them. And you’ve let yourself believe that they truly care about you as a person. But let me ask you this, if you quit pandering to their every need, do you think they’d still give a shit about you? I can tell you from personal experience that they’d drop you quicker than a kick to the nuts! They’re only happy as long as they’re getting EVERYTHING THEY WANT. And so you keep them happy as much as humanly possible. You and the fans are engaging in a form of mutual masturbation that so far keeps you both happy. But answer me this Saint…what happens when you prematurely finish this week without giving the fans what they want? What happens when you blow your load too soon and fail to capture the Overdrive title thereby disappointing your oh so loving fans. I‘m pretty sure ‘Sorry, this never happens to me‘ won‘t quite cut it as they all know that‘s a blatant lie! You have fallen SHORT many many times Saint. This week, you will once again be unable to go the distance. And you‘ll see that what I‘ve been saying is the 100% truth…they will DUMP YOUR ASS so fast. Hell they won‘t even give you the ‘We can still be friends’ line. They’ll leave you like a disgruntled bride forgotten at the alter….and then what? THEN what will the patron Saint do?”

Terry takes a few paces and we see a photograph of Terry holding the title high above his head after winning it the OVERDRIVE following Survive and Conquer.

“I have another important question for you Keaton. What are you willing to do to win this match? What crimes will a ‘SAINTLY‘ man such as yourself commit in order to take this prestigious title off my waist. How far will the GOOD GUY go to claim that which he covets so much? To be honest, I don‘t think you‘ll go far enough. I don‘t think you have that fire and passion burning in your bowels to push yourself to the absolute limit of your abilities and capacity for pain and punishment to take this title off of me. Are you willing to break my body in half Saint? As much as you might hate me, are you willing to destroy my career, or even my life? Will you break my back and leave me paralyzed in that very ring? No…no I don‘t think the president of the Justice League of APW would go that far. I think there‘s a switch in your head that will stop you, cause you to hesitate and force you to let up. And all I have to do is wait for that switch to trigger, to fire off. You’ll drop your guard for just a second, and I’ll pop up just like a Opossum and snap you like a twig.

Would you like to ask me those same questions Keaton? What am I willing to do to win this match? I’m willing to do whatever it takes no matter the cost to me, to you, to the fans, to the APW, or to my immortal soul. Am I willing to break your body in half? You’re God Damn right I am….and I will do it without hesitation and with a boat load of pleasure. Am I willing to destroy your career? Really? Do you honestly think that your career matters to a man like me, to a man who sat in a hospital room and Told my dying daughter to “HURRY UP AND GET IT OVER WITH?” Keaton, not only am I willing to destroy your career, to end your life, THAT IS ALL PART OF MY GAMEPLAN. You see, I will kill you and leave your rotting corpse in that ring if you don’t scream out for all the world to hear…. “I QUIT! I QUIT!” That is the only way I will stop beating on you, stop tearing you limb from limb. Well, either that or when I hear the final Thump of your heart, when I hear it fall silently for eternity never to pulsate again in your decrepit chest.

That‘s the real question isn‘t it Keaton? How much are you willing to take to win this Overdrive title? How much does it mean to you? Are you willing to die for it? Are you willing to leave your family behind, to let your legacy on this earth end with your pursuit of a piece of leather and metal plating? Are you willing to throw away your future, your hopes and dreams just to touch a physical object? Honestly, I don‘t think you have the courage to do that Keaton. It think you‘ll get to the brink where you have to choose between your life and this title and it won‘t even be a tough decision for you. You‘ll cry for mercy…BEG me to stop. You‘ll admit that it‘s not worth it to you….that you QUIT!

But me? I‘ve already made the decision. I‘ve already informed Faythe of it, already filled my will out, already taken care of my estate….I will die for this title Keaton. I‘m willing to lose a limb, to lose more blood than this enormous heart of mine can possibly pump, to break my back and never use my arms or legs again. I am willing to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair eating my supper threw a straw and relying on an overpaid nurse with a cut rate education to wipe my ass…feed me….bathe , if it means that I know I‘ve done every single thing possible to hold on to this title. If I die in this match Keaton…I will do so knowing that I defended this title to my very last breath. THAT is how much this title means to me. So bring an army of Saints with you to Rasslemania Keaton…Let them come marching in and let them come marching armed to the teeth…cause you‘re gonna need them. And if you‘re willing to take my life for this title…then perhaps I‘ve been wrong all along, and perhaps you will be worthy of it!”

Terry sits in his chair again, shaking a little as the truth of his words resonate throughout his body. He truly feels them, truly means them. This title validates his career and he’s fought tooth and nail to get it…he’ll fight to the death to keep it. Finally, after he calms down with a few deep breaths, he looks into the camera again.

“Earlier this week, Keaton, I allowed a sliver of doubt to pollute my mind. I allowed it to corrupt me, allowed it to distort my thoughts and it sent me off my path….for a small period of time. Take a good look at me now Keaton…do I look like a man who lacks confidence…do I look like a man who doubts my ability to destroy you in that very ring? Do I look afraid of losing this title, of losing my legacy? If you answered yes to any of these questions then I severely question your ability for logical thought and pray to God that you seek psychological help from a trained professional because you are delirious on a level people on this world short of tripping acid have never even attempted to reach before! I’m ready for you Keaton… I’m ready for whatever attempt at G rated violence you can possibly muster from the Self Righteous armory that you undoubtedly have full access to. There is a reason I am the APW overdrive champion. There is a reason I defeated Level One in my first match back, a feat that you could not duplicate. And there is a reason you are chasing me from behind just PRAYING to grasp at my coattails! I am the CHOSEN one of the APW, I AM GODS GIFT TO WRESTLING!

You are merely a faux Saint spreading your lies and false prophecies. You are guilty of the most heinous sin one can commit in this business… Blasphemy against the higher power. No, I’m not talking about God. No, I’m not even talking about President Jeff. I am talking about the man who truly is the end all and be all in this world…the overdrive champion….THE REAL FUCKING SHOW!

At Rasslemania, you will pay for your sins.

At Rasslemania, the season finale of the Real Show will not be a cliff hanger, and it surely will not have a HAPPY ENDING(sorry Sally) for one Keaton Saint.

At Rasslemania, the world will watch as your body will break.

At Rasslemania, the world will watch as your spirit will be crushed.

At Rasslemania, the world will watch as YOU WILL QUIT!

At Rasslemania, you will fail in your quest, you will fail your fans, and you will fail your destiny.

At Rasslemania…. When the saint comes marching in….The Real Show will have your number…..and it will be……


SHOWTIME!!!!

Terry smiles brightly as he walks over to the wall and flicks the switch turning the scene to black.



(OOC: Props to L-1 for letting me use his character in my rp. THANKS BUD!!!)