Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Mar 24, 2019 6:14:35 GMT
"So, my friend, you said you had advice for me?" Ethan leaned back, a grin on his face. "I'm all ears."
"Are you ACTUALLY going to listen, Ethan?" Andrew's voice carried a slight undercurrent of warning, but lost none of its humor. "Or are you going to indulge my rambling and then carry on with your own plan anyway?"
"I make no promises as to the shape of my ambitions, Andrew." Ethan's voice was the precisely-calculated blend of evasive and insufferable that always gnawed at Andrew's brain stem, and Ethan's efforts were rewarded with a groan from his friend. "Of course I'll listen. You've been in this place before, and I'd be a fool to not listen to you."
"Alright." Andrew took a swig from his beer before beginning to pace, the slightly erratic pace of a man who has a lot of thoughts and isn't sure how to organize them all. "First things first, if you're serious about the Roulette, you're going to want to make the Strong Style match as short as possible. You'll need to conserve energy, and that belt does NOT let you do that if you get minutes on the clock."
"Absolutely not." Ethan nodded back, leaning on the pool table and inspecting his nails. "I'd imagine Harper knows that too, and he's got a vested interest in making sure he can do as much as he can in the Roulette too. We're both going to be looking to close things out early."
Andrew held up a finger, pointing at Ethan. "Don't let him dictate the pace. He's going to want to go madcap sprint, because that's how his style works. Ground him. Dissect his leg, preferably his left. Without that, he can't fly, he can't post for the Dance the Spiral, he's screwed." He glanced over at the clock on the wall. "Dean's a scary opponent, Ethan. He's resilient, he's quick, he's innovative, he has no sense of self-preservation...he fights like a man with nothing to lose, all the time."
"And we both know what that does to a man." Ethan nodded grimly. "Right. So I'll be wrestling a rabid animal, then. Grand. Oh well, it won't be the first time I'll have done that. Most of the other times, it didn't even come with a belt."
"Please don't take him as a joke, Ethan." Andrew's voice was deadly serious. "Dean Harper is probably one of the single most dangerous men I've ever met. If you don't go into that match ready for the fight of your life, he'll tear you to shreds, and I say this knowing how good you are. Please, give him the consideration he deserves."
"Andrew, of COURSE I'm going to take him seriously." Ethan walked over, clapping a hand on Andrew's shoulder with a smile. The smile faded slightly as Ethan locks eyes with Andrew, however. "He took that title from you. I'm treating him like the most dangerous man in the world. And I intend to give him the beating that he deserves. For you. For me. For that title."
"Okay." Andrew nodded, slightly relieved. Ethan smiled again, and both men took up their beers, toasting them together before draining them back. Andrew wiped his upper lip as he shook his head, grinning. "God, every time. Every time I tell myself this won't be swill, and it still is. Just how self-deluding am I?"
"You REALLY don't want me to answer that honestly, Andrew." Ethan replied with yet another smirk, the kind that on anyone else would have sent Andrew's foot lashing out on instinct.
This time, though, Andrew just chuckled. "Fair enough. I think it's my break this time?" Ethan nodded, and Andrew moved to gather the balls on the pool table as we fade out.
We all make mistakes in our lives. Some large, some small, but they happen to all of us. I've made...a LOT of mistakes in my life. Most importantly, I've trusted a lot of the wrong people because I felt like I had to belong, and they told me they had the secret. The secret that would make me successful, bring me titles, friends, glory...all I had to do was sign on the dotted line and trust them.
The Young Guns. Infamous. Body Count. All of these groups brought me in because they saw something in me. They saw something they could use to make themselves stronger. I wanted so desperately to belong, to feel like I mattered, that I would listen to anything I was told. I got sold a bill of goods once, twice, three times, and each time I eagerly jumped at the opportunity to sell my morals down the river for the sake of a career boost.
Speaking of selling morals down the river for a career boost, how ya doing out there, Cross?
Those experiences taught me something, though. They taught me a valuable lesson that I'll carry with me to my grave. Pretending to be something you're not handicaps you. It's like tying one arm behind your back. You're not going to get the approval of the people you were trying to appeal to, you're going to look like an idiot, and you'll hold yourself back in the process. Living your truth, no matter how hard you think it'll be? That's what brings you success. That's what brings you the best things in life. I only got my head on straight and started actually living up to my potential when I realized that my morals didn't hold me back, they set me on the right path.
An ethical code doesn't do a whole lot for you in the Roulette. It's a chaotic environment, thirty men all vying for that same end goal. Well, that's the idea. Something tells me that it's a little different this year. We've got three members of the Pack in the Roulette, and they're going to want to keep their boy Cross safe. They're going to want to protect him, because they know as long as the World Titles are in their camp, they have leverage. One half of the equation can fall as soon as Sunday. Personally, I hope Vivienne Rodgers puts the Wolf of the Abyss down hard, in her own match. But that's only half the battle. The other half is going to take us all the way until Night of the Immortals, and that's the half that I can fight.
I know the hell that is competing in this match and coming out the other side. I did it after going to war with Spike Kane in one of the most punishing nights of my life. I wouldn't want to repeat the experience, but it was valuable. I've learned a lot in matches like the Roulette. All the mistakes you can make, all the places you can get caught up and dumped out like so much trash. They say you learn the most from your failures, after all, and with a career like mine, I've had a LOT of failures to learn from.
Do I regret those mistakes? Sometimes, yeah. But good came of all of them. Infamous taught me that just because you think the cool kids like you, that doesn't mean you have to follow along blindly. Body Count taught me that the best hopes can be cast aside for the sake of ego. And if I hadn't taken that offer from Venom all those years ago to join the Young Guns, I never would have met the woman who would end up being my business manager, my closest ally, and somehow, I'm still not sure how, my wife. There's a silver lining to everything, even if you can't find it until well after the fact.
I'm going to march straight into the teeth of this match. Number four is a hell of a journey to make, but I'm ready to make it, because at the end of that journey is the chance to throw a knockout blow straight down the throat of the Pack. My best friend can take the Strong Style Championship from Dean Harper, the best person in this company can take the Women's World Championship from the dark queen that reigns over this entire nightmare, and if I'm the perfect blend of skilled, enduring, and lucky, I can close the night with a promise. A promise that come Night of the Immortals, the Pack's grip on IWF will finally be broken.
I'd like to make that promise. Question is: who's going to stop me?
"Are you ACTUALLY going to listen, Ethan?" Andrew's voice carried a slight undercurrent of warning, but lost none of its humor. "Or are you going to indulge my rambling and then carry on with your own plan anyway?"
"I make no promises as to the shape of my ambitions, Andrew." Ethan's voice was the precisely-calculated blend of evasive and insufferable that always gnawed at Andrew's brain stem, and Ethan's efforts were rewarded with a groan from his friend. "Of course I'll listen. You've been in this place before, and I'd be a fool to not listen to you."
"Alright." Andrew took a swig from his beer before beginning to pace, the slightly erratic pace of a man who has a lot of thoughts and isn't sure how to organize them all. "First things first, if you're serious about the Roulette, you're going to want to make the Strong Style match as short as possible. You'll need to conserve energy, and that belt does NOT let you do that if you get minutes on the clock."
"Absolutely not." Ethan nodded back, leaning on the pool table and inspecting his nails. "I'd imagine Harper knows that too, and he's got a vested interest in making sure he can do as much as he can in the Roulette too. We're both going to be looking to close things out early."
Andrew held up a finger, pointing at Ethan. "Don't let him dictate the pace. He's going to want to go madcap sprint, because that's how his style works. Ground him. Dissect his leg, preferably his left. Without that, he can't fly, he can't post for the Dance the Spiral, he's screwed." He glanced over at the clock on the wall. "Dean's a scary opponent, Ethan. He's resilient, he's quick, he's innovative, he has no sense of self-preservation...he fights like a man with nothing to lose, all the time."
"And we both know what that does to a man." Ethan nodded grimly. "Right. So I'll be wrestling a rabid animal, then. Grand. Oh well, it won't be the first time I'll have done that. Most of the other times, it didn't even come with a belt."
"Please don't take him as a joke, Ethan." Andrew's voice was deadly serious. "Dean Harper is probably one of the single most dangerous men I've ever met. If you don't go into that match ready for the fight of your life, he'll tear you to shreds, and I say this knowing how good you are. Please, give him the consideration he deserves."
"Andrew, of COURSE I'm going to take him seriously." Ethan walked over, clapping a hand on Andrew's shoulder with a smile. The smile faded slightly as Ethan locks eyes with Andrew, however. "He took that title from you. I'm treating him like the most dangerous man in the world. And I intend to give him the beating that he deserves. For you. For me. For that title."
"Okay." Andrew nodded, slightly relieved. Ethan smiled again, and both men took up their beers, toasting them together before draining them back. Andrew wiped his upper lip as he shook his head, grinning. "God, every time. Every time I tell myself this won't be swill, and it still is. Just how self-deluding am I?"
"You REALLY don't want me to answer that honestly, Andrew." Ethan replied with yet another smirk, the kind that on anyone else would have sent Andrew's foot lashing out on instinct.
This time, though, Andrew just chuckled. "Fair enough. I think it's my break this time?" Ethan nodded, and Andrew moved to gather the balls on the pool table as we fade out.
We all make mistakes in our lives. Some large, some small, but they happen to all of us. I've made...a LOT of mistakes in my life. Most importantly, I've trusted a lot of the wrong people because I felt like I had to belong, and they told me they had the secret. The secret that would make me successful, bring me titles, friends, glory...all I had to do was sign on the dotted line and trust them.
The Young Guns. Infamous. Body Count. All of these groups brought me in because they saw something in me. They saw something they could use to make themselves stronger. I wanted so desperately to belong, to feel like I mattered, that I would listen to anything I was told. I got sold a bill of goods once, twice, three times, and each time I eagerly jumped at the opportunity to sell my morals down the river for the sake of a career boost.
Speaking of selling morals down the river for a career boost, how ya doing out there, Cross?
Those experiences taught me something, though. They taught me a valuable lesson that I'll carry with me to my grave. Pretending to be something you're not handicaps you. It's like tying one arm behind your back. You're not going to get the approval of the people you were trying to appeal to, you're going to look like an idiot, and you'll hold yourself back in the process. Living your truth, no matter how hard you think it'll be? That's what brings you success. That's what brings you the best things in life. I only got my head on straight and started actually living up to my potential when I realized that my morals didn't hold me back, they set me on the right path.
An ethical code doesn't do a whole lot for you in the Roulette. It's a chaotic environment, thirty men all vying for that same end goal. Well, that's the idea. Something tells me that it's a little different this year. We've got three members of the Pack in the Roulette, and they're going to want to keep their boy Cross safe. They're going to want to protect him, because they know as long as the World Titles are in their camp, they have leverage. One half of the equation can fall as soon as Sunday. Personally, I hope Vivienne Rodgers puts the Wolf of the Abyss down hard, in her own match. But that's only half the battle. The other half is going to take us all the way until Night of the Immortals, and that's the half that I can fight.
I know the hell that is competing in this match and coming out the other side. I did it after going to war with Spike Kane in one of the most punishing nights of my life. I wouldn't want to repeat the experience, but it was valuable. I've learned a lot in matches like the Roulette. All the mistakes you can make, all the places you can get caught up and dumped out like so much trash. They say you learn the most from your failures, after all, and with a career like mine, I've had a LOT of failures to learn from.
Do I regret those mistakes? Sometimes, yeah. But good came of all of them. Infamous taught me that just because you think the cool kids like you, that doesn't mean you have to follow along blindly. Body Count taught me that the best hopes can be cast aside for the sake of ego. And if I hadn't taken that offer from Venom all those years ago to join the Young Guns, I never would have met the woman who would end up being my business manager, my closest ally, and somehow, I'm still not sure how, my wife. There's a silver lining to everything, even if you can't find it until well after the fact.
I'm going to march straight into the teeth of this match. Number four is a hell of a journey to make, but I'm ready to make it, because at the end of that journey is the chance to throw a knockout blow straight down the throat of the Pack. My best friend can take the Strong Style Championship from Dean Harper, the best person in this company can take the Women's World Championship from the dark queen that reigns over this entire nightmare, and if I'm the perfect blend of skilled, enduring, and lucky, I can close the night with a promise. A promise that come Night of the Immortals, the Pack's grip on IWF will finally be broken.
I'd like to make that promise. Question is: who's going to stop me?
Well howdy there pardner.