Post by Xavier Cross on Aug 21, 2013 16:50:45 GMT
((Note: I was going to make this look nice, but trying to do all the coloring and whatnot, Chrome froze on me twice. So deal with the blandness you lovely bitches))
I lost...damn…
so this is a heel turn right?
Where I become the asshole people expect me to become. To fall to my knees, blaming everyone else for my failure, and not take any of the responsibility myself.
This is that moment…
Nah, I’m actually pretty happy.
*****
“Work on your movements. You need to stay fast, speed kills strength. If your opponent can’t get a hold of you, he can’t hurt you.”
Cross sits on a turnbuckle, of a makeshift ring. We see his assistant, Doug, in a typical greco-roman wrestling singlet, with ear gloves. Doug kind of looks like Rick Steiner's goofy son. On the other hand, we see Drew, in a pair of shorts, and a plain black shirt.
“Doug’s old, tire him out. He’s bigger than you, that doesn’t mean he’s better than you.”
“I’m trying my hardest!”
Doug lunges forward, obviously exhausted, Drew side steps, but trips over his own two feet.
“Enough!”
Cross blows a whistle hopping down from the corner, making his way over to Drew, who puts his head down.
“You need to shuffle your feet, you won’t trip over them if you don’t cross them. C’’mon kid, you need to take this serious…”
“Be easy on him Xavier…”
“Easy? This business isn’t easy. I never had it easy, his father never had it easy.”
Drew looks up at him, tears welling up. Unlike the tough punk we had seen before, he was finally training to live his dream, to keep his father’s legacy going. Xavier shakes his head.
“You want to go, you know where the door is.”
“No…”
Cross raises an eyebrow, looking at Drew, who’s sadness turned to passion in the blink of an eye.
“What was that.”
Xavier watches as Drew’s fist clenches up, his quivering lip settles.
“I said I’m not giving up.”
He swings at Xavier, who manages to step back, and shuffle, finding himself behind Drew, he puts the teenager in a quick full nelson.
“Now you see why speed is important. You’re untrained, you’re wild, unfocused. My job is to focus you. You’re still too young to do much, so we’ll teach you basic martial arts, self defense, a little mat wrestling. I’ll teach you the ropes of the business.”
Cross let’s go of Drew, pushing him forward.
“But if you think I’m going to take it easy on you, you’re wrong. Now both of you, give me two laps around the foundation. Now.”
Cross blows the whistle, as Drew rolls out of the ring, and bursts out the door. Doug picks himself up, sweating and exhausted, he walks over to Xavier.
“Nice pep talk, the kid is fired up…”
“What are you doing?”
“I was gonna get some water, and go change why?”
“I thought I said, the two of you?”
“You can’t be seriou-”
Cross blows the whistle again, as Doug fumbles out of the ring, and charges out the door. Xavier leans against the ropes, smiling, laughing a bit.
“Hmm, there may be hope for both of them.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he looks over to the ring corner, his body still sore from Legacy, and his loss to Xander. For once, he didn’t feel such a heavy weight from losing a match, or a belt, on a pay-per view. Things finally seemed alright, and it felt a little brighter without that extra weight around his weight, extra pressure on his back. He had something to focus on, Drew wanted to learn the business, something Xavier himself wished he would have gotten into younger. Not knowing Basketball wasn’t going to pan out, and this would have been his path. Drew was a fan of the business since day one, his dad was his hero, and the ropes was his stage. He didn’t want anything else but to lace up between these ropes, and do battle with someone in front of the masses.
His mind wandered to the old days, of Ol’ Lou, and his training regime, as ridiculous as it was, it was indeed effective.
One of which was Xavier running on a treadmill, while Lou sprayed him with various water guns, hoses, and threw large chunks of ice and snowballs. Xavier would go on to beat Will Washington back in NCW, in one of his most brutal matches ever.
“I miss you old timer…”
Though at times, Cross seemed to hate his guru, it was all out of love, the two would clash heads, but at the end of the day, Xavier loved the old man like a grandfather.
Xavier exits the makeshift ring, making his way up to his office, to gather his thoughts, waiting for tweedledee and tweedledum to finish their laps.
*******
Mike and Mike
Sadly it's not MMMMM
I miss MMMMM
You guys definitely caught me on an off night, I just lost my title to Xander. To whatever corporate machine is about to run rampant on this business. To be honest, watching the end of Legacy left a bad taste in my mouth, and for those who know my past, you know that losing never suits me well. I normally would throw a temper tantrum, and become a world-class d-bag.
But for once, it doesn’t feel so bad.
Maybe that’s me finally growing up, maybe, who knows. Doesn’t really matter.
We have bigger problems ahead of us, the same angle that got played out so often in NCW, and various other businesses, we see the bad wheels of management rolling through, where their lap dogs become the title holders, and top of the business, and men like you two are left performing at the top of your game.
You two have something in common, Machado, Laszlo.
How many times have you guys walked out to that ring, week after week, given it your entirety, given every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears. But walked away just not having enough.
I’ve been paying attention, very closely to you two men, you’re two of the most underrated superstars in this business, possibly the wrestling world. These corporate morons don’t realize that, I’ve never had a good feeling about any form of management. I challenged Leonard Fox, Adam Knite, Steve Awesome, all forms of corporate domination. All forms of corruption.
But it isn’t guys like me, who always find themselves with chances, with title opportunities. with shots.
It’s guys like you, the lifeline of this business, that find themselves taking a back seat, to someone’s ego trip. It’s guys like you that don’t break out on top, who’s talent’s go unrecognized. So you’re left with two options. You join ‘em, or you pack up and leave.
Or you could throw a giant bitch fit, cry your eyes out, and hope someone gives a crap, or just wants to shut you up.
I used to be a bitch like that, you’d find me in the office of a CEO, throwing words out left and right, almost like a child in the supermarket, when their parent wouldn’t buy them a toy.
I did what I had to do in my match, I lost to Xander, big deal.
But what happened to Joe Everyman, it was bullshit. You’re taking a shit on every man and woman back here, working their ass off. Who knows the reason why, what’s exactly going on in Roberto Verona’s head.
But what makes me sick, is seeing those two egomaniacs, thinking they can run this business, hiding behind dollar signs and contracts. It makes me sick.
Joe Everyman is still the Imperial Champion. Fuck what everyone says. He was better than Lex twice, and if no one else sees that, get your damn eyes checked out.
So Mike Laszlo, you’ve had one shot. You’ve come up short so many god damn times. You’ve had partners bail on you, you’ve been left high and dry by assholes. We teamed up once, we’ve faced each other a couple of times. I got your number my man. Prove me wrong, kick my ass, and get yourself a spot, get yourself some glory. Beat me. Take what you deserve, because I’m personally starting get sick of seeing a guy with some much potential falling short every damn week. Step up, and become the man we all know you can be for fucks sake.
and Machado.
You’re a grade A dude, I’ve been in the back, no cameras. You’re a damn good guy. I don’t think I’ve met anyone you couldn’t make laugh. You’re a bright spot in this endless world of shit, as we’ve just seen. You didn’t get it done against Bushido, but you’re getting so close. I was on the edge of my seat, cheering my ass off in the back, I wanted you to win so bad. But you didn’t, but oh well. Shrug that shit off man. Beat me, work your way to another shot. You have what it takes, just grab it by the fucking horns, and ride that son of a bitch into glory.
So please, both of you.
Don’t give up on this business. Keep fighting, with everything you got. Prove that to me, and I promise you.
I will kick every corporate motherfucker right in the mouth.
You heard me Verona, Xander, Lex.
All of you bastards, who think you can just walk over us.
Take what you want.
I will not.
Ever.
Stand for it.
So punish me. Suspend me. Jump me.
But I dare you, I dare you to keep me down.
Mike, and Mike, you bring it all. Let’s prove to these fans, to these idiots upstairs that we are the best. Let’s put on one helluva match, get these fans out of their seats.
Let’s tear the god damn roof off.
******
Xavier is relaxing in his chair. Watching from the outside, he sees Drew, focused as ever, sprinting through the last bit of his lap. Doug, stumbling behind him. Cross sighs a bit, hoping Doug would show a little more spunk than that.
“This isn’t so bad…”
Xavier smiles, as a knock on his door gains his attention, he turns.
The door opens, in stumbles his adopted younger brother, Jaqwan, smelling of booze. His nose bloodied, his eye swollen. Xavier hops up, moving quickly around his desk, catching Jaqwan as he falls a bit.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Well...I came to see you...stopped to get a drink...and...he was there…”
“He? Who is he?”
“Dwayne...he’s coming for you...He wanted me to tell you...he’s gonna watch this place burn.”
Cross helps Jaqwan to his feet, helping him into the chair. We see an exhausted Doug, walking into the doorway, breathing heavily.
“Xavier, there’s a man here to see you...said something about the Senator, that Dick guy…”
Cross shakes his head in frustration, as Doug notices the beaten up Jaqwan.
“What happened to him?”
“Gang asshole, trying to send me a message…”
“Should I lock down the facility?”
“No, he wants me, he’s not gonna hurt the kids...Let me handle this Senator lacky first…”
To Be Continued
Well howdy there pardner.