Post by Nate Harris on Mar 2, 2018 2:58:16 GMT
“You sure you want to watch this and not something more your speed? We got Netflix and shit.” Nate asked navigating to the IWF network on the PS4.
“I want to see wrestling!” Justine said excitedly grinning up at him.
“Coming over here is the only chance we get to watch,” Zoe advised eating a handful of popcorn.
“Mom and Dad don’t let you?” Nate asked looking at his sisters.
“Daddy says it’s just white guys beating up on each other.”
“Not just white guys.” Nate rolled his eyes. “I work there.”
“Do you?” Zoe asked. “You’ve had two matches.”
“Listen here, brat.” Nate glared.
“Hush! It’s starting!” Justine raised her arms in the air kicking her legs excitedly.
“I mean, you can’t deny it’s white.” Zoe shrugged.
“Things could change.” Nate offered.
“Nah, people like us? We don’t get to be center stage.” Zoe looked at the tv.
“This about the school play?” Nate asked softly.
“I didn’t even want to be Juliet. It’s a stupid play written by a stupid white guy a billion years ago.” Zoe grumbled. “Never mind I know all the lines. Nah.”
“You got the Nurse. That’s a pretty big upgrade. She’s got the second most lines out of the other girls.”
“You know that dick bag said I wasn’t main character material?”
“Swearing!”
Nate felt a white-hot rage and cracked his neck. “What’s his name again?”
“Don’t.”
“Nah, what’s his name? I’ll find his address and I’ll beat his fucking head in.”
“Swearing!” Justine pointed at him.
“Whatever. Next year I’ll be in college. They love feeling special about diverse casting. Makes em feel super liberal and in touch.” Zoe sank into the couch bitterly.
“Who got the Juliet? Maybe we can toss her down the stairs. Make it look like an accident.” Nate offered.
Zoe smirked, “Susan Anderson.”
“Oh, she’s dead. Guarantee it.”
“Big talk.”
“Daddy said no committing crimes.” Justine pouted.
“Don’t be a snitch, Justine, god.” Zoe pushed their little sister.
Nate heard the jingle of keys outside the door. “It’s open!”
Nick pushed open the door and looked at the crowded couch. “Babysitting again?”
“Nick!” Justine leaped off the couch and went for a hug which he returned.
“I apparently can’t be trusted with watching an eight-year-old. Why is beyond me.” Zoe looked at her nails with his interest.
“Because your parents know you’re fucking evil,” Nick advised walking to the kitchen.
“Blow me.” Zoe flipped him off.
Nate rubbed his temples. “Can you two not?”
“Your boyfriend started it!” Zoe pointed in Nick’s direction.
“What was that?”
“Zoey I swear to god…”
“Hey, IWF.”
“The roulette huh? Bunch of dudes into a match all fighting to get the chance to be able to get the chance to touch that belt. The big belt. The belt formally known as the Imperial. Now it’s the World title, huh? That’s okay. I like the sound of that better. I like the sound of World champion Nate Harris more.”
“Oh do not rewind the video. You heard damn right. Me. I’m going to win the roulette.”
“Oh, I know you weren’t expecting to hear that from me, where you? I know I am seated at the technically employed diversity hire table. The Roulette is above my pay grade, right? What matches have I had? Beating the Spencer family and losing to Chlamydia personified.”
“Don’t discount me just because I haven’t been able to show y’all what I can do. Trust. It’s going to be epic to watch me come out on top of this.”
“Notice something interesting? Look at the belt holders after Danger Zone. I mean really look at them. We got two white boys with god complexes and a white gamer nerd. The male belt holders are a sea of white bread. It’s been white white-passing for ages. Don’t you think it’s about time we got some diversity out from under the damn undercard?”
“Oh I know there’s going to be a 101 comments about how I’m an up jumped tag team guy. You know what? I don’t care. I want it more than any of you.”
“Getting to get to the top of this company in an event like this is exactly the kind of thing I want. I like working the bad odds. I didn’t get to where I am today but seeing the impossible and accepting that shit. I want to win this belt.”
“Not just for me, either. I want to win this belt from every non-white kid out there who finally has the chance to see themselves reflected in a wrestler who isn’t the side show. Who isn’t just on the house show circuit?”
“I know that’s what I wanted as a kid. Someone who looked like me who didn’t have to lean so hard into the fake feathers stereotype crap. I mean, Christ, you see how these white boy rag on my boy Pax Stormcrow for his name? Boy should get some goddamn praise for keeping his real name in a white industry with these racist fucks.”
“It’s time to decolonize this industry. It’s time where the pressure to appear as ‘normal’ as possible isn’t a requirement. It’s time for the industry to stop treating anyone who talk doesn’t like a Middle American well spoken, who doesn’t play into being the ‘good minority’ as less than.”
“That’s what this is about. Not just my skill, which is something to behold. Nah, this is about every kid that gets told they aren’t good enough. Every kid who gets told they can’t make it because they don’t look like the white faces on the posters.”
“Trust that.”
“I want to see wrestling!” Justine said excitedly grinning up at him.
“Coming over here is the only chance we get to watch,” Zoe advised eating a handful of popcorn.
“Mom and Dad don’t let you?” Nate asked looking at his sisters.
“Daddy says it’s just white guys beating up on each other.”
“Not just white guys.” Nate rolled his eyes. “I work there.”
“Do you?” Zoe asked. “You’ve had two matches.”
“Listen here, brat.” Nate glared.
“Hush! It’s starting!” Justine raised her arms in the air kicking her legs excitedly.
“I mean, you can’t deny it’s white.” Zoe shrugged.
“Things could change.” Nate offered.
“Nah, people like us? We don’t get to be center stage.” Zoe looked at the tv.
“This about the school play?” Nate asked softly.
“I didn’t even want to be Juliet. It’s a stupid play written by a stupid white guy a billion years ago.” Zoe grumbled. “Never mind I know all the lines. Nah.”
“You got the Nurse. That’s a pretty big upgrade. She’s got the second most lines out of the other girls.”
“You know that dick bag said I wasn’t main character material?”
“Swearing!”
Nate felt a white-hot rage and cracked his neck. “What’s his name again?”
“Don’t.”
“Nah, what’s his name? I’ll find his address and I’ll beat his fucking head in.”
“Swearing!” Justine pointed at him.
“Whatever. Next year I’ll be in college. They love feeling special about diverse casting. Makes em feel super liberal and in touch.” Zoe sank into the couch bitterly.
“Who got the Juliet? Maybe we can toss her down the stairs. Make it look like an accident.” Nate offered.
Zoe smirked, “Susan Anderson.”
“Oh, she’s dead. Guarantee it.”
“Big talk.”
“Daddy said no committing crimes.” Justine pouted.
“Don’t be a snitch, Justine, god.” Zoe pushed their little sister.
Nate heard the jingle of keys outside the door. “It’s open!”
Nick pushed open the door and looked at the crowded couch. “Babysitting again?”
“Nick!” Justine leaped off the couch and went for a hug which he returned.
“I apparently can’t be trusted with watching an eight-year-old. Why is beyond me.” Zoe looked at her nails with his interest.
“Because your parents know you’re fucking evil,” Nick advised walking to the kitchen.
“Blow me.” Zoe flipped him off.
Nate rubbed his temples. “Can you two not?”
“Your boyfriend started it!” Zoe pointed in Nick’s direction.
“What was that?”
“Zoey I swear to god…”
“Hey, IWF.”
“The roulette huh? Bunch of dudes into a match all fighting to get the chance to be able to get the chance to touch that belt. The big belt. The belt formally known as the Imperial. Now it’s the World title, huh? That’s okay. I like the sound of that better. I like the sound of World champion Nate Harris more.”
“Oh do not rewind the video. You heard damn right. Me. I’m going to win the roulette.”
“Oh, I know you weren’t expecting to hear that from me, where you? I know I am seated at the technically employed diversity hire table. The Roulette is above my pay grade, right? What matches have I had? Beating the Spencer family and losing to Chlamydia personified.”
“Don’t discount me just because I haven’t been able to show y’all what I can do. Trust. It’s going to be epic to watch me come out on top of this.”
“Notice something interesting? Look at the belt holders after Danger Zone. I mean really look at them. We got two white boys with god complexes and a white gamer nerd. The male belt holders are a sea of white bread. It’s been white white-passing for ages. Don’t you think it’s about time we got some diversity out from under the damn undercard?”
“Oh I know there’s going to be a 101 comments about how I’m an up jumped tag team guy. You know what? I don’t care. I want it more than any of you.”
“Getting to get to the top of this company in an event like this is exactly the kind of thing I want. I like working the bad odds. I didn’t get to where I am today but seeing the impossible and accepting that shit. I want to win this belt.”
“Not just for me, either. I want to win this belt from every non-white kid out there who finally has the chance to see themselves reflected in a wrestler who isn’t the side show. Who isn’t just on the house show circuit?”
“I know that’s what I wanted as a kid. Someone who looked like me who didn’t have to lean so hard into the fake feathers stereotype crap. I mean, Christ, you see how these white boy rag on my boy Pax Stormcrow for his name? Boy should get some goddamn praise for keeping his real name in a white industry with these racist fucks.”
“It’s time to decolonize this industry. It’s time where the pressure to appear as ‘normal’ as possible isn’t a requirement. It’s time for the industry to stop treating anyone who talk doesn’t like a Middle American well spoken, who doesn’t play into being the ‘good minority’ as less than.”
“That’s what this is about. Not just my skill, which is something to behold. Nah, this is about every kid that gets told they aren’t good enough. Every kid who gets told they can’t make it because they don’t look like the white faces on the posters.”
“Trust that.”
Well howdy there pardner.