Post by Notorious B.O.B. on Jan 26, 2014 0:08:33 GMT
“You’re an asshole”
She turned on the spot, storming away from the front door and towards the living room. He shook his head, exhaled and looked over his shoulder as the sun continued to dip towards the tops of the distant mountains. It was another cold, grey day in January, but from the hello she’d just given him, he was sure that the temperature inside might just rival the temperature outside.
“Well, hello to you too” he muttered to himself, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind himself. He’d no sooner slipped out of his shoes and kicked them aside, than he was inundated with more of Holli’s ‘sunny disposition’ from the open entryway to the living room.
“So you think that a little peck on the cheek before your flight, followed by a week of no contact what-so-ever warrants me to listen to anything that comes out of your mouth?” She was breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling as her eyes scanned his. “So, what now? You’re home for a few days before you leave again to do whatever the hell he says to do.”
More of the staring, waiting for him to say … do something. Instead of taking the bait like he had at the airport, he simply brushes passed her and takes a seat on the sofa. Holli just turns, mouth slightly agape, and watches him ease his way into ‘his spot’ on the far right side. He smoothed his hand over the microfiber, watching it change color with each pass, and looked up at her once more.
“So let me get this straight,” he cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows raised, “it’s ok for you to create a big scene in the middle of an airport café …” He holds his hand up in the air, cutting her off as she takes a step forward, mouth open and ready to argue that point. “Hang on a second,” he says as he drops his hand back down to the couch, “you don’t seem to get it. The whole ride over to the airport you’re pissed off at me and shitting on Mike, but decide to get all cuddly as soon as you see the airport. You’re the one who acted like a nut-job; I just reacted accordingly.”
She took a few more steps forward, her socks shuffling across the shag carpeting, and plopped herself down on the opposite side of the sofa. With her arms crossed, a look of indignation on her face, she managed to screw up her face enough to give a passable smile. “So how is your old buddy, Mike? Cut off any more fingers lately?” Bob doesn’t have to look at her to feel the icy glare. “Why does this always have to be about Mike, huh? What is it about him that just drives you up the damn wall?”
She turns away from him once more, her eyes focusing on the Tuscan painting on the far wall. “I don’t seem to recall any overlap between the two of you in any promotion we’ve been in. The two of you were months apart in UCWA, or maybe it was just UWA at that point …” he began to trail off, trying to recall. “Anyway,” he continued, “you’ve never seen the guy face to face, so how can you pass judgment so quickly?”
She looked incredulous, as though she couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Me? How can I pass judgment? Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Her voice has raised at least three octaves, and she’s beginning to do that thing where she flails her arms around again. He knows there’s probably no way to deescalate her, so he simply brings his legs up, draping them on top of the coffee table.
“Who in America, or wherever, hasn’t passed judgment on him? We’ve all seen what he’s been doing; everyone knows that he’s a psychopath.” She pauses, looking him up and down with disgust, “Everyone but you apparently.”
He just chuckles and leans back further into the corner of the couch. “What was that saying about casting the first stone?” The smug look on his face really pushed her over the edge. She slammed her hands down on the upholstery with a little ‘thud’ and pushed herself back up to her feet. Bob crossed his arms over his chest and settled in for the show. “You know what? I know I’m not Mother Theresa here; you don’t have to remind me. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of, but I thought you and I were past all that.” That last bit seemed to soften his stance a bit; they had come to a sort of resolution that they’d ‘forget’ about their past exploits and focus on their future.
“You’re right,” he interjects, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward. “we did and I should have thrown that back in your face.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and took a deep breath. “I know why you’re concerned, but you need to understand that you shouldn’t be.” She opened her mouth again, but he cut her off before she could say it. “I know, I know, it’s easier said than done.” Her shoulders drop slightly, the edge in her voice lessening as well. “So what then? Where do we go from here?”
Her arms dropped to her sides, the sound of defeat in her voice. He looked up at her, confusion obvious on his face. “What you mean? Nothing’s changed here Holli; I’m the same man I was a week ago, a month ago, hell even a year ago. The only person who thinks that something’s changed is you.”
She just stared at him blankly. “When I’m home, I’m yours … and my world revolves around you; that hasn’t changed.” He grunts slightly as he gets to his feet. “Outside of those times, I’ll be working … and that means I’ll be with Spike. You can either understand that and accept the things that he’s done …” he pauses, slipping his feet back into his sneakers and turning towards the door, “or you can’t. It’s on you now.”
He places his hand on the doorknob, giving it a slight turn. He looks over his shoulder to see her standing there in the living room entryway. She looked to be hugging herself with one arm wrapped around her midsection, the other draped across her chest to her shoulder. “Just …” she starts, “just be careful.”
He gives her a wink and then steps back across the threshold, a smile emblazoned on his face … a wicked, wicked smile.
”We laugh at honor, and are shocked to find traitors in our midst.”
~ C.S. Lewis
”I’ve been accused of living in the past, holding on to the memories and experiences to get me through it all“ he says, shrugging, ”and maybe there’s a bit of truth there. I’ve been holding on to relationships built up over the course of my professional career and become ‘that veteran’.” His eyes roll back in his head as he smiles, ”You all know the one I’m talking about; sits out back in the locker room spinning tales of the ‘good ol’ days’ and insisting on the respect of every new face he sees. It’s a sad day friends,” he muses, solemnly shaking his head, ”when you realize that you’ve become the guy you used to despise while coming up.”
”See, for me, when I joined nCw … or MWA …“ he pauses and scratches at his cheek, ”I don’t remember honestly, but I do remember that feeling of never being able to catch a break. It seemed like week after week, the same guys were getting the same shots at the same titles; not exactly a lot of opportunity for upward movement from the new faces, eh?“ A smirk breaks across his face, ”Steve Awesome, Gib, Jimmy Zane, hell, even a Knite or two were always there hogging the spotlight; soaking it all up and bleeding the company dry. They’ll say that it was our job to break through that ceiling and stand out …” Pooler grimaces, ”and maybe they were right.”
”Then again,“ he smiles, ”as I watched the as the fire slowly dwindled in nCw’s present it shouldn’t have been much surprise to see the same names still at the front of the line looking for their handouts.”
”Please sir, I want some more …”
”So, to whichever keyboard jockey it was who pointed out that I’ve been moving in the wrong direction I say, ‘thank you’.” The ‘thanks’ sounds sincere, even though he punctuates the sentiment with a wink. ”Instead of retracing my steps and living in the past I need to look forward to move forward. This forward thinking begins now, the movement … this Sunday.”
”It all starts with the man who, inadvertently, put me on my currant path. It looks like it’ll be me and you again Gjen” he says with a tip of his imaginary cap, ”though I expect this time that you’ll be a little less worse for wear.” The fingers of his left hand begin drumming on the table. ”There are just so many things that I want to say to you, that I know I’m supposed to say.
I’m supposed to tell you what an honor it is to face you in the ring again; that this opportunity wouldn’t have even come about had you not stepped up when I was most in need. If it wasn’t for your altruistic actions, well, we know that I probably wouldn’t be standing here today in the position that I’m in.”
His tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth, slowly tracing its way up and across his upper lip. It disappears back into his mouth just as he gives his bottom lip a bite, trying hard to fight the grin breaking across his face. ”The unwritten rules say that I should be the gracious host, welcoming you into this match with open arms and blowing as much smoke up your ass as possible. Too bad for you though,” he says, his eyes squinting as the grin finally manages to spread, ”that momma Pooler told me it’s rude to lie.”
”Now, remember that this is all coming from a guy who’s spent the better part of the past few weeks holding to much regard for my own past, but from me to you … get over yourself, eh.” He leans forward in his chair, his index finger pressing down into the smooth wood of the table, ”I’ve spent far too much time on introspection but you, you my man are just one Cure song away from leaping off the roof of the Staples Center.”
”Every other word out of your mouth is about honor and justice, but it wasn’t too long ago that you were smiling beneath that mask of yours as you stood behind Kane as he crucified Xavier Cross. Where was the honor in that Gjen?” Pooler shakes his head, ”For a man so consumed with honor you’ve certainly strayed from that path, eh? Do you know what that makes you? It makes you the one thing that drives me up the God damn wall …” the muscles in his jaw flex as his nostrils flare, ”that makes you a hypocrite.”
”Blah, blah, frickity blah … you’ve droned on for weeks since you realized how disposable you truly were. You were never important to the Empire, never important to Spike; you were never anything more than a distraction, a gimmick; a dancing monkey.”
”So it’s time to dance again, little monkey; dance for the delighted faces of men and women who didn’t bat an eye as you lost your title, didn’t raise a hand as you were humbled by Angel and certainly didn’t lose any sleep as you were unceremoniously excommunicated from the Empire.”
Pooler reaches up, slicking back his hair from his face, an almost manic look on his face. ”I’ve done my best here, Gjen, I really have; I tried to go into this and just keep it strictly business … but there’s just something … about you …” Shaking his head, he can’t help but chuckle. ”Something about you just seems to piss me off. I’m sorry that I can’t be the bigger man here; that I can’t just bottle things up and bite my tongue. I’ve done enough of that for a lifetime; besides, maybe this will be cathartic for both of us” he says with a smile and a shrug.
”I don’t like you” he says point blank. ”I don’t understand you, and I don’t like you.” He slowly blinks, ”You’re a throwback to a different era, a dinosaur amongst men. Your whole shtick, its nothing but a pathetic gimmick; three guesses what that makes you” he spits. ”I’ve seen it time and time again, hell, I’ve even dabbled in the masked arts myself, but it’s always been a means of standing out among the crowd. Is that what you want Gjenn? Do you want to stand out amongst the rest of the sheep? Don’t worry, you already do. Your performances as of late have gotten you noticed, just not by all the right people.”
”Small victories in notwithstanding, you’re nowhere closer to recapturing whatever it is that you’re seeking. Call it what you will; honor, championship gold, justice … just realize that this next chapter isn’t going to bring about the storybook ending you’ve hoped for.”
”This time, the Big Bad Wolf walks away with the bacon.”
”All this time you’ve been the one huffing and puffing, spouting off about honor and justice until I feel like you’ve forgotten what those words mean. They’ve lost their meaning as they’ve passed over your self-absorbed lips, but still sound sweet to your self righteous ears.” The words seem to drip from his mouth like venom, the frustration rising in his voice. ”It’s always the same thing, the same repetitive thing. So do us a favor, do me a favor, Gjenn, and dip into your bag of tricks and come up with something new. If not, I’ll just go ahead and do everyone a favor and get this over with …”
He reaches down into his lap, pulling out a piece of red and white fabric, turning it over in his hands. ” … “ , he opens his mouth, but instead smiles as he brings the fabric up, pulling it over his face and head and pulling it into place. It takes only a moment to adjust it, and while you could no longer see his mouth, beneath you knew he was smiling. ”Recognize this, Gjenn? Turns out it was just lying around, and I didn’t think you were using it anymore so …” he shrugs, wearing the mask that Gjenrei had forcibly pulled off by Angel. ”I expected this thing to smell like sweat and raw fish, too bad it only smells like failure.” Pooler cocks his head to the side, ”What was that? Did I just hear the sound of a thousand mice all dragging this video back thirty seconds?”
”Patience is a virtue, but not one that I’m particularly high on. Instead of waiting however long to hear your docile tones again, I thought this might be more productive, eh? Besides, we only hear the same stale crap from you anyway right?” He readjusts himself in the chair, sitting up straighter and cracking his neck to the side with a small ‘pop’. ”Ladies and gentlemen, tonight the role of Gjenrei will be played by Bob Pooler …”
His head dips to his chest for a moment, and when it rises it does so methodically.
"Honor isn't something that can be given, but something instead that must be earned. Inside each and every one of us lies the person we know we’re capable of being. For me, that person lay buried beneath the person that they wanted me to be.
I didn’t lose my honor, I gave it away.
I traded my honor for an opportunity, a chance at something else. It wasn’t until I noticed the strings around my limbs that I’d been nothing but a puppet for others. Spike, Angel, even Cable … I’d been doing what they wanted me to do.
I’m no puppet, no plaything for the entertainment of others. My first step towards regaining my honor may have been in losing something. The Cruiserweight title was a title that once held more honor and prestige than what I allowed it to become. I should almost thank you, Pooler, for taking that albatross. Without it I’ve been able to focus myself once more, focus on reclaiming that which I threw aside.
My honor.
Now, as I step that much closer to our day of reckoning, it will be my pleasure, my honor if you will, to take back the title. Around my waist, the Cruiserweight title will thrive once more and be the beacon it once was.
And you, Pooler will feel my justice.”
His head slumps back to his chest, his right hand reaching up and grabbing hold near the nape of his neck and pulling forward. The mask is peeled off, his hair hanging in a tangled mess in his face as he raises his head. Through the mess, his eyes, unblinking, glare into the camera lens while the hushed sound of laughter begins to rise. ”Honor, morality, faith … theories that have done nothing but fall by the wayside as the world has grown, changed, developed.”
”You are a broken record of rhetoric that nobody cares about anymore, Gjen. In today’s society, your backwards views are more of a hindrance. Look around you, its all about your abilities and talents. Without ambition there can be no success.”
”But what do I know? I’m just the man who has gone undefeated since his debut in this company. I’m just the man who captured the Cruiserweight title in his first month. I’m just the man who has pointed out every fallacy, every flaw, every little blemish walking around this company.”
His gaze falls to the table, his eyes tracing every turn and curl in the grains of wood. ”You’ve seen all the signs, the writing on the wall; you’ve seen the clouds, you know of the oncoming storm, Gjen. It’s too late to find cover because you’re standing right in its path, bearing down on you at break neck speed. Hide behind your mask, your walls built to keep back the world. Straw, sticks or brick; it doesn’t matter because when the wolf comes knocking, you can’t hide.”
He peers up, his upper lip curled back in a snarl, ”Vi et virtute.”
Well howdy there pardner.