Post by kaster on Oct 16, 2023 4:36:27 GMT
May 28th, 2023, 4:00 P.M.
Motherfuckers talkin’ crazy, saying I should quit
I fuckin’ tell them make me
Eat a fuckin’ dick
I’m feelin’ like the greatest-
The music stops. His phone buzzes through his sweatpants, vibrating against his leg. The caller ID is unknown, simply a phone number. He answers and, after removing the headphones, holds the phone up to his ear.
“Hey, bug, how’ve you been?”
A knot immediately forms in Caleb’s stomach. The voice is one that he never wished to hear again. Yet, here it was. An extended silence creates a tense aura while emotion rushes to Caleb’s face.
“You there? Hello? Hello?”
“Hello?”
The snapping of fingers is heard before the camera comes to life. Caleb Cannin is hunkered down, looking into the lens. In the background is an empty wrestling ring. He sits on the apron's edge and slicks his hair back.
"This week on Odyssey, I'm going to finish this little tale with Nick Danger. A guy who, for all intents and purposes, should be busy cleaning the bottom of my boots instead of being in a ring like this. I don't hold an ounce of respect for him, because he wants to act like he's this hard-working, underdog badass. That's why they cheer for you, right? They watch you and think that you're their hero! You're no one's hero, Nick. You took away everything that was important to me. I was on top of the world. A championship on my shoulder, the spotlight on me, the place that I earned. And you thought you deserved a shot. You think that I owe you something. You think that, because the fans like you, you had a right to my championship. At Night of the Immortals, you and I had one of the most grueling matches this company has ever seen. Forty-five minutes of non-stop action. Or, at least, it should have been forty-five minutes… but overtime came into play. On any other night, in any other match, I would have walked out as the World Television Champion. So, you got the last fall in overtime with James Gilmore by your side. You know who I had on my side?”
“Nobody. That’s what I know. Nobody has wanted this more than I do. I’ve worked my ass off my whole life to be here! And I didn’t do it because of you, I did it in spite of you.”
“Listen, bug, we can talk for hours about how I’m such a devil and that you feel like you deserved something from me. Lemme remind you of something. You ain’t shit. Walking around in those little suits and sunglasses like you’re out of a fuckin’ mob movie. It’s all an act. I know it and I know that you know I’m right.”
“Do you think I’ve ever given a single iota of shit about what your opinion is? Didn’t matter back then, doesn’t matter now.”
“You know why I called you?”
Caleb pauses as blood begins to rush to his face from all the anger this phone call has induced.
“No. I don’t.”
“I called you to tell you that I’m gonna be watching. Oh yeah, I got the TV set up right here. Bring over a couple of old friends, we get some beers and we’re gonna watch you do what you’ve always done best.”
“And what’s that?”
“Fail.”
The lump in Caleb’s throat feels like he swallowed a rock. He becomes silent again before shaking his head. His face contorts as he tries not to get into an outburst. Something like that might cost him down the road.
“Oh, yeah? You know what, old man? I’m going to prove you dead fucking wrong. Around two decades of having to deal with your bullshit is going to make me win tonight. I am going to leave Las Vegas as I walked in. A goddamn champion. Do you understand? All that time you spent beating me down like I was some sort of punching bag, you’re finally going to look at your boy and see what your geriatric ass should have seen years ago! Are we clear? ARE WE CLEAR?”
“Heh… yeah, loud and clear, bug.”
“Don’t fucking call me bug ever again.”
“Sorry, bug, but who’s supposed to be disciplining who here?”
“You know, I thought that maybe, just maybe, you would be happy for me. Just for one fucking day, I believed you could throw away your grouchy attitude and not be such an asshole. Looks like I’ll have to keep waiting.”
“Lemme leave you with this, bug. No matter how many times you try to break away or make it seem like you’re a big hot shot… the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Heh… What's that little saying? Like father, like so-”
He hangs up the phone and squeezes it so hard his hand starts to become sore. The audacity of that man to call him on the biggest night of his life… his stomach churns at the mere sound of his voice. He doesn’t even notice how hard he’s gritting his teeth until he stops clenching his jaw. His hand shakes with rage as he sits back down. The rapid tapping of his foot begins to echo through the arena whilst he buries his head in his hands.
He HAS to prove him wrong. He isn’t going to fail, he’s going to succeed. Tonight, he will wage war with Nick Danger. He’ll give him every ounce of blood, sweat and tears that he’s got. He’ll beat him and retain his championship. Then, he can look right at the camera and make sure he mouths three simple words so that the whole world can hear.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“That was my first thought when you walked out last week. But, as you walked down that ramp, it hit me. This match isn’t about you picking yet another fight with me. This is about me ending this little thing we’ve got going on. Time and time again, we seem to cross paths. It feels like no matter what I do, you keep coming back like the little cockroach that you are. You even got what was my greatest treasure, yet you still feel like this story is unfinished. When you took my Television Championship, what did you do? Did you hold onto it and be the champion you said you were going to be? No… no, you didn’t. Instead, you handed it off to Sabin the Friendly Ghost in a match that you didn’t even have to defend it in! But you know what, Nick? You made the history books. You are now the shortest reigning Television Champion in IWF’s decade-long history.”
Caleb mockingly claps his hands, slowing down before completely stopping and putting on a grim expression.
“You took that championship and made it look like a joke. Sure, you won one match in Las Vegas on the night that should’ve been mine. You won one match. Barely. You started this little downfall that I’ve been going through. It’s no secret that I had a terrible Heir to the Throne. I only won one whole match in that tournament. My only saving grace… is this.”
He pulls the Joker in the Pack briefcase onto his lap.
“No matter how many times I fall, I will always have this to fall back on. I have something to look forward to. Pax Stormcrow has something to fear. But this isn’t about Pax Stormcrow, oh no. This is about you and I, Nick. When you took my championship at Night of the Immortals, you made it personal. I’m going to make sure that your father and grandfather realize how much time their little Nicholas has wasted. This place may not give me the respect I deserve, but I’m going to make you respect me. I made you fear me at Legacy when I showed you how ruthless I can be. Now, I’m going to make you respect me. If that means driving your head into the mat or tearing your shoulder right off your body, then I’ll do that and more. I’m going to make those fans respect me, because they think I’m lazy. They think I’m a coward. They think I’ve always tried to take the easy route. But they sit on their asses and critique me because they never have to do what I do. They are the ones that take the easy route, not me. I do what I do to win. They do what they do to feel good about themselves. I’m going to show them why I’m a star on any card. I’m going to show them something they can’t ignore. I am undeniable. That’s a fact. And you, you little douchebag, are going to be the reason everyone puts respect on my name. So go ahead, Nick. Go visit your friends, your girlfriend, your cousins, your grandfather, your mother and father, go see them all. You should even go visit your old friend Zack. And when you see them, go tell them all to watch on Tuesday night. Tell them that you’re going to be there. Tell them that, when you get beaten, they shouldn’t be sad. They should be happy, because Nick Danger finally has a purpose. And that purpose is to be Caleb Cannin’s first step backup to superstardom. If you don’t want to believe that, brother, then you might not like what happens when that bell rings. This won’t be another marathon. This won’t be another bloody war. This will be the statement that I need to make. Last week, you said that there would be no more excuses. You’re right. No excuses, just a reason for everyone to see why Caleb Cannin is and always was The Future.”
“Give me that reason, Nick. I dare you.”
May 28th, 2023, 11:00 P.M.
The outside air feels quite cold, but he needs to step out. Most of the blood on his face has either dried or washed away. He sits up against the wall and presses his hands up against his forehead. The physical pain will go away with enough time, but everything else? That could last a lifetime. He hears the distant roars of the action inside. When he was young, he always wanted to get a look on the inside. Right now, he might as well be in a personal hell. Quietly, under the moonlight, he begins to sob. The black hoodie obscures any chance of his face being shown, but nobody would really notice either way. He never really cried, not like this. Maybe when he was little, but he couldn’t remember the last time he did it as an adult.
He lost everything tonight. Everything.
A buzz comes from his hoodie pocket. The phone screen lights up as an unknown number appears.
To this day, outside of the MGM Grand lies a phone, shattered into dozens of pieces.
Greatest in the world, greatest in the world, greatest in the world
No lie, I might be…
The best to ever do it, the best to ever do it, the best to ever do it
I feel like the greatest.
Well howdy there pardner.