Post by Derek Brooks on Jul 17, 2017 4:31:11 GMT
OH BABY WHAT A RUSH!
The scene comes to and you see the man destined for greatness, the man you all know as Derek Brooks, the winner of last week’s three way barbed wire bat on a pole match, and he’s quivering with excitement. The rush of not only being in a match, but getting on the right track and winning it, none of it compared to what he was able to do once he got his hands on that bat.
God damn did that feel good. I took that bat in my hand and I waited. I watched that creepy ass clown shove his corroded, cracked, probably split tongue down the throat of that walking two cent slut, and then, took the barbed wire bat and did EXACTLY what I said I was going to do and shoved that sumbitch right up Gilmore’s loudmouth, pussy-footing punk ass!
To get the privilege to shut him up, if only for that minute was truly...wonderful.
More importantly…
He glides his hand across the air in front of him.
More importantly, it put the man before you on the straight and narrow. It put me on a path, and apparently, the brass really took notice, because this week, live, in front of thousands upon thousands of people in the arena, and millions upon millions of television sets, cell phones, and tablets across this world I go one on one with the man known as “The Ace”. The man who couldn’t wrestle the Imperial Championship away from Andrew Jacobsen and then used his family to goad his way into another title match.
Well first…
A smile crosses Derek’s face as he points upward to himself.
First, you gotta walk through this brick wall.
Before you can take another crack at the champion, before you can deal with the present, your bleach blonde, family loving ass gets to go one on one with the FUTURE!
And I know what you’re thinking. I can see the wheels turning in your head, but this isn’t what you think...no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This isn’t the young lion challenging the old for supremacy of the pride, because to be quite honest, you’re not THAT old lion...you’re simply AN old lion.
He waves his arms in front of him as if to pump the brakes a bit.
Now before you get things twisted, don’t get me wrong Jake Conway, I respect every damn thing you’ve done in this business. You’ve taken on legends, names that I’ll never get to face, and quite frankly, I’m a bit envious of that fact. You’ve taken on legends and bested them, and I’m stuck where I’m currently at, working my way up through the ranks, scratching and clawing, and sweating and bleeding, sacrificing my body, my mind, and my soul for this business...just as you did all those years back.
He sneers a bit sarcastically, content in his head with the words that are about to come out next.
What I don’t envy Jake is the man you are today. Today you’re the one who clamors for the spotlight. You’re the one who couldn’t help but stoop to levels of using your own children to get you another shot, only because your physical and mental “gifts” simply weren’t enough to outsmart the man who holds the Imperial Championship.
That sir, that is why you’re just another lion, and not THE lion. THE lion is the man who holds that title. He’s the one I’ll be going after when I’m done with you this Sunday.
He’s the end goal...not you.
He cascades his hands up and down his arms, almost hugging himself.
But I’m no fool Jake. I’m not naive, and I sure as hell am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I know what a win over the old lion in you means. I know that it’s a catapult to bigger and better things, and this fact will not go lost as I pin you or make you tap out in that wrestling ring.
I’m sure it bugs you to hear me say what I’ve said. For you, the mighty Jake Conway to not be someone’s endgame; to know that you’re a mere stepping stone to bigger and better things must truly eat you up inside, for I’m sure you believe yourself to be worthy of more than that.
I wish it were true Jake, really. I wish you were the end to which the means get me, but instead, you’re simply a means to an end, and that end, for the man standing before you, the man planting seeds of doubt in your head, the man who presents you with your next challenge in life...if far...far away from this coming Sacrifice...as a matter of fact...it’s just the beginning.
I am Derek Brooks.
I am the man destined for greatness.
After our match, you can rest assure Goldilocks...you will damn sure remember my name.
Things Just Got Serious - Part 5: ...Or Else
Days went by, perhaps a week or two, I wasn’t quite sure. I had been locked in the warehouse, strangely enough by my own suggestion. Shane had threatened to leave me in there until time became irrelevant and it surely had. I had been fed enough to stay alive. I had enough water poured down my throat...to stay alive. There were welts on my body, black and blue marks, and dried blood over my forehead as rather than go to a local gym and practice fighting a punching bag, Shane allowed his goons, and occasionally stopped by to take a few shots of his own. Being as I was tied up, there was no sleep other than the occasional passing out from the pain after they were done, but I knew what was coming, and I braced for it, I took each and every beating, and when they were done, I’d piss them off just a little bit more, flashing a bloody smile in their face before spitting in their direction.
The bravado was strong. The arrogance, at least to them, was even stronger. I knew my limits, and I knew they were fast approaching and that I would eventually have to find a way out. I looked around, I knew the building well from the times I had brought people here myself. I knew that if I could get myself off the hook, I’d be able to get away.
I was sucking in air before grabbing hold of the chain above me, trying my best to pull myself upward in an attempt to unhook myself...then the door opened, the latch that kept it locked echoing throughout the empty cavernous warehouse room. I immediately dropped off the chain, a strain on my wrist that caused a grimace on my face. I heard the sounds of a fancy pair of shoes clicking off the concrete floor. Looking up through the swelling in my eyes, I could see Shane approaching with a cocky grin on his face, not in fighting attire, but back in his fancy suits. I greeted him appropriately. ”What the hell do you want you fat piece of shit?”
This was greeted with a slap to the face causing me to look away before slowly pulling my face back in his direction, spitting to the side. ”Haven’t you learned yet boy?”
I kept egging him on. ”How the hell am I supposed to retain information when you knuckle-draggers keep hitting me in the head?”
He snickered. He knew I wouldn’t break. He loved trying though. He shook his head as he took a few steps away. ”You had the world kid. You were my righthand man. Anything you wanted, you could have got it.”
He turned back in my direction. ”And you threw it all away like a fucking moron. AND FOR WHAT!? A FRIEND!?”
He walked right up in my face. ”A worthless piece of shit gambler who is too fucking stupid to call it quits? You went to bat for that!? You’re even dumber than he is. He can’t help it. He has an addiction. He needs help. You? You’re just fucking stupid and you simply can’t fix that.”
I spit again before speaking back. ”It’s called loyalty you piece of shit. You have it of all these men, at least you think you do. The moment you’re weakest, that very second where you bleed, these vultures, the sharks in the water, they’ll turn on your fat ass faster than you can say Big Mac.”
He swung again, connecting with the side of my head, this time I snapped back, lunging at him a bit. ”What’s a matter? Is that pissing you off?” He leaned in. ”NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FELT ASSHOLE!”
I could feel my blood boiling. The anger was coursing through my veins, I wanted to rip his head from his body and spit down his throat. He continued… ”The question now is...what do I do with you? You see Derek, I’m getting bored of you hanging here. I can’t let you back in the fold because you’re worthless to me now, and I can’t just forgive you because that’s not the sort of guy I am. So what can we do to liven things up around here?”
”You could let me go and I whoop your ass all over this fucking building.”
He nodded. ”You wish. I’ll tell you what...hang out here a bit longer, and I’ll comeback with a decision in a little bit.”
He slapped me on the face before leaving the warehouse. I regained my composure. I knew what I had to do and as soon as I heard the door shut, I grabbed hold of the chain above me. Fueled by the rage he’s instilled in me, I pull myself up, just high enough to clear the hook, dropping to the floor with a thud. The man outside the door heard the commotion and came in, running over when he saw me lying on the floor. ”What the hell? How’d you get down?”
I was breathing heavy, in pain from the fall. ”The chain...it just…”
Before I could finish, I sprung up and wrapped the chain around his neck. As he struggled I could hear the sounds of the car pulling off. I threw him up against the wall, face first, releasing my grasp on his now limp body. He fell to the floor and I dug through his pockets, finding the key to my lock and freeing myself from the chains that bound me. I grabbed hold of the guys gun, tucking it in my waistband, and headed for the door when I saw a pen and paper on the desk nearby. I took hold of it and wrote a note.
"I told you to make it quick...or else. Clearly...you chose “...or else”."
I tossed the pen to the side and walked out the door. The street lights were bright, but a welcomed sight indeed. I found my way to the gate...and I was a free man. It was time to work on “...or else”.
The scene comes to and you see the man destined for greatness, the man you all know as Derek Brooks, the winner of last week’s three way barbed wire bat on a pole match, and he’s quivering with excitement. The rush of not only being in a match, but getting on the right track and winning it, none of it compared to what he was able to do once he got his hands on that bat.
God damn did that feel good. I took that bat in my hand and I waited. I watched that creepy ass clown shove his corroded, cracked, probably split tongue down the throat of that walking two cent slut, and then, took the barbed wire bat and did EXACTLY what I said I was going to do and shoved that sumbitch right up Gilmore’s loudmouth, pussy-footing punk ass!
To get the privilege to shut him up, if only for that minute was truly...wonderful.
More importantly…
He glides his hand across the air in front of him.
More importantly, it put the man before you on the straight and narrow. It put me on a path, and apparently, the brass really took notice, because this week, live, in front of thousands upon thousands of people in the arena, and millions upon millions of television sets, cell phones, and tablets across this world I go one on one with the man known as “The Ace”. The man who couldn’t wrestle the Imperial Championship away from Andrew Jacobsen and then used his family to goad his way into another title match.
Well first…
A smile crosses Derek’s face as he points upward to himself.
First, you gotta walk through this brick wall.
Before you can take another crack at the champion, before you can deal with the present, your bleach blonde, family loving ass gets to go one on one with the FUTURE!
And I know what you’re thinking. I can see the wheels turning in your head, but this isn’t what you think...no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This isn’t the young lion challenging the old for supremacy of the pride, because to be quite honest, you’re not THAT old lion...you’re simply AN old lion.
He waves his arms in front of him as if to pump the brakes a bit.
Now before you get things twisted, don’t get me wrong Jake Conway, I respect every damn thing you’ve done in this business. You’ve taken on legends, names that I’ll never get to face, and quite frankly, I’m a bit envious of that fact. You’ve taken on legends and bested them, and I’m stuck where I’m currently at, working my way up through the ranks, scratching and clawing, and sweating and bleeding, sacrificing my body, my mind, and my soul for this business...just as you did all those years back.
He sneers a bit sarcastically, content in his head with the words that are about to come out next.
What I don’t envy Jake is the man you are today. Today you’re the one who clamors for the spotlight. You’re the one who couldn’t help but stoop to levels of using your own children to get you another shot, only because your physical and mental “gifts” simply weren’t enough to outsmart the man who holds the Imperial Championship.
That sir, that is why you’re just another lion, and not THE lion. THE lion is the man who holds that title. He’s the one I’ll be going after when I’m done with you this Sunday.
He’s the end goal...not you.
He cascades his hands up and down his arms, almost hugging himself.
But I’m no fool Jake. I’m not naive, and I sure as hell am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I know what a win over the old lion in you means. I know that it’s a catapult to bigger and better things, and this fact will not go lost as I pin you or make you tap out in that wrestling ring.
I’m sure it bugs you to hear me say what I’ve said. For you, the mighty Jake Conway to not be someone’s endgame; to know that you’re a mere stepping stone to bigger and better things must truly eat you up inside, for I’m sure you believe yourself to be worthy of more than that.
I wish it were true Jake, really. I wish you were the end to which the means get me, but instead, you’re simply a means to an end, and that end, for the man standing before you, the man planting seeds of doubt in your head, the man who presents you with your next challenge in life...if far...far away from this coming Sacrifice...as a matter of fact...it’s just the beginning.
I am Derek Brooks.
I am the man destined for greatness.
After our match, you can rest assure Goldilocks...you will damn sure remember my name.
Things Just Got Serious - Part 5: ...Or Else
Days went by, perhaps a week or two, I wasn’t quite sure. I had been locked in the warehouse, strangely enough by my own suggestion. Shane had threatened to leave me in there until time became irrelevant and it surely had. I had been fed enough to stay alive. I had enough water poured down my throat...to stay alive. There were welts on my body, black and blue marks, and dried blood over my forehead as rather than go to a local gym and practice fighting a punching bag, Shane allowed his goons, and occasionally stopped by to take a few shots of his own. Being as I was tied up, there was no sleep other than the occasional passing out from the pain after they were done, but I knew what was coming, and I braced for it, I took each and every beating, and when they were done, I’d piss them off just a little bit more, flashing a bloody smile in their face before spitting in their direction.
The bravado was strong. The arrogance, at least to them, was even stronger. I knew my limits, and I knew they were fast approaching and that I would eventually have to find a way out. I looked around, I knew the building well from the times I had brought people here myself. I knew that if I could get myself off the hook, I’d be able to get away.
I was sucking in air before grabbing hold of the chain above me, trying my best to pull myself upward in an attempt to unhook myself...then the door opened, the latch that kept it locked echoing throughout the empty cavernous warehouse room. I immediately dropped off the chain, a strain on my wrist that caused a grimace on my face. I heard the sounds of a fancy pair of shoes clicking off the concrete floor. Looking up through the swelling in my eyes, I could see Shane approaching with a cocky grin on his face, not in fighting attire, but back in his fancy suits. I greeted him appropriately. ”What the hell do you want you fat piece of shit?”
This was greeted with a slap to the face causing me to look away before slowly pulling my face back in his direction, spitting to the side. ”Haven’t you learned yet boy?”
I kept egging him on. ”How the hell am I supposed to retain information when you knuckle-draggers keep hitting me in the head?”
He snickered. He knew I wouldn’t break. He loved trying though. He shook his head as he took a few steps away. ”You had the world kid. You were my righthand man. Anything you wanted, you could have got it.”
He turned back in my direction. ”And you threw it all away like a fucking moron. AND FOR WHAT!? A FRIEND!?”
He walked right up in my face. ”A worthless piece of shit gambler who is too fucking stupid to call it quits? You went to bat for that!? You’re even dumber than he is. He can’t help it. He has an addiction. He needs help. You? You’re just fucking stupid and you simply can’t fix that.”
I spit again before speaking back. ”It’s called loyalty you piece of shit. You have it of all these men, at least you think you do. The moment you’re weakest, that very second where you bleed, these vultures, the sharks in the water, they’ll turn on your fat ass faster than you can say Big Mac.”
He swung again, connecting with the side of my head, this time I snapped back, lunging at him a bit. ”What’s a matter? Is that pissing you off?” He leaned in. ”NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FELT ASSHOLE!”
I could feel my blood boiling. The anger was coursing through my veins, I wanted to rip his head from his body and spit down his throat. He continued… ”The question now is...what do I do with you? You see Derek, I’m getting bored of you hanging here. I can’t let you back in the fold because you’re worthless to me now, and I can’t just forgive you because that’s not the sort of guy I am. So what can we do to liven things up around here?”
”You could let me go and I whoop your ass all over this fucking building.”
He nodded. ”You wish. I’ll tell you what...hang out here a bit longer, and I’ll comeback with a decision in a little bit.”
He slapped me on the face before leaving the warehouse. I regained my composure. I knew what I had to do and as soon as I heard the door shut, I grabbed hold of the chain above me. Fueled by the rage he’s instilled in me, I pull myself up, just high enough to clear the hook, dropping to the floor with a thud. The man outside the door heard the commotion and came in, running over when he saw me lying on the floor. ”What the hell? How’d you get down?”
I was breathing heavy, in pain from the fall. ”The chain...it just…”
Before I could finish, I sprung up and wrapped the chain around his neck. As he struggled I could hear the sounds of the car pulling off. I threw him up against the wall, face first, releasing my grasp on his now limp body. He fell to the floor and I dug through his pockets, finding the key to my lock and freeing myself from the chains that bound me. I grabbed hold of the guys gun, tucking it in my waistband, and headed for the door when I saw a pen and paper on the desk nearby. I took hold of it and wrote a note.
"I told you to make it quick...or else. Clearly...you chose “...or else”."
I tossed the pen to the side and walked out the door. The street lights were bright, but a welcomed sight indeed. I found my way to the gate...and I was a free man. It was time to work on “...or else”.
Well howdy there pardner.