Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Mar 29, 2015 6:28:56 GMT
December 23, 2014
Our scene is set at Il Mulino Restaurant in Las Vegas. Andrew Jacobsen and a distinctly uncomfortable-looking Emma Danielson sit at a table set for four, decked out in what is undoubtedly finery. While Andrew looks naturally at home in his sharp and stylish dark green suit, Emma looks ill at ease (though not unflattering) in her own dark red dress. She drums her fingers on the table next to Andrew, who just checks his watch and looks towards the door. Emma speaks up after a long moment.
"So where are they? Come on, it's like..."
Andrew smoothly replies to Emma, reaching over and taking a sip of the wine sample provided, his eyes never wavering. His free hand drops down, resting near a pair of gift bags that sits on the floor next to his chair.
"Two minutes before we asked them to meet us here. It's alright, Em. Jake's a punctual man. They'll be here. You know that."
Sure enough, not ten seconds after he utters the sentence Jake Conway, better known to the wrestling world as the Ace, and his wife Kathleen Conway walk into the restaurant. They're both dressed appropriately for the setting, and it doesn't take any time for Jake to spot Andrew. A quick nod from Andrew confirms, and the Minnesotans stand, greeting their opposite numbers. Andrew and Ace exchange a firm handshake, while Kathy and Emma hug each other, grins on their faces. Emma speaks first.
"Well look at you, Kathy. Looking fantastic. And Jake, good to see you!"
Ace nods, and they switch off, Andrew pulling Kathy into a hug while Ace and Emma share a quick hug themselves. Jake nods, a smirk on his face.
"Andrew. Good to see you. Emma, what a pleasant surprise. You look quite lovely. I hear you've been keeping up correspondence with my wife, eh?"
Kathy rolls her eyes, smiling at Ace as the four sit back down. Emma nods, barely suppressing a grin.
"It's a few e-mails here and there, it's not like we're obsessively writing back and forth."
Ace nods, and when the waiter comes by offering the Conways a sample of the current wine special they both graciously accept. The Conways and Emma sit down, but Andrew reaches down, taking the gift bags and setting them next to Kathy's chair. A surprised eyebrow pops up from Kathy, and Andrew shrugs as he sits down.
"Early Christmas presents for the girls. Got Domino this hyper-modular Lego-style kit. It's got a bunch of included models and light bricks. Hey, what four-year-old never wanted their own glowing dragon?"
The Conways share a stifled chuckle, and Kathy nods, unable to keep the grin from her face.
"What four-year-old indeed? And I'm guessing the other bag is for Solitaire? Looks like it's kind of heavy."
Andrew nods, a proud grin spreading across his face.
"For Solitaire, I got her a Ruby Championship to go with the Starlets Championship I got her...and I figure she's getting to about the age I really started getting into wrestling, so I put together a little best-of DVD for her. Nothing too violent, pretty tame stuff, but they should be matches she'll get interested in. Threw her dad's big moment at Sovereign '09. It's okay if that match's on there, right? Hammond got busted open a little, and I don't know how you two are with her and blood."
Ace and Kathy briefly glance to each other and shrug, with Ace turning back to Andrew.
"Solitaire's old enough to know that people get hurt, especially in our line of work. If I'm remembering the match right, it shouldn't be too much trouble."
Andrew nods, sitting back a bit more in his chair with a relieved smile on his face.
"Alright. I'm pretty happy I managed to get us all together...especially Emma. I think she was just swayed by the idea of being able to spend a few nights decompressing on the strip."
That earns him a teasing swat and a "Hey now!" from Emma. Andrew grins, but quickly forces himself to adopt a more composed demeanor.
"But we're here for business."
Ace nods back, his fairly casual demeanor replaced instantly by the businesslike poker face that so many have stared across from before.
"And what exactly was your proposition? Not that buying my wife and I dinner at a nice restaurant isn't a bad bribe, mind..."
Andrew takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.
"Look, man...Eddie Black isn't the right note for the legend of the Ace to end on. The man's a semi-literate pissant with all the vocabulary of my right boot. And...I'm not happy with how I went out. I figure...well, we've motivated each other before. Why not take a crack at getting back into the ring? I need someone who can help me re-find my limits, and you know I won't let you go in unprepared."
Ace pauses, exhaling slowly as he takes a sip of the wine.
"Fair points on all accounts. Why the push from you, though? What's got up your backside that's got you fired up to wrestle again?"
Andrew sighs, a sober look coming over his face.
"Jake...I've lost almost a year of my life to injuries, and that's when I'm in the prime of my life. What if I get hurt again a few years down the line? I want to have something to sit on, something I can know I'll be secure with. I'm not going to gamble with my future. I want better. And to get better, I need to start with the best. That means you."
Kathy looks over at Ace, shrugging.
"You were saying you'd been getting the itch again, dear...and you could do far worse for a training partner."
The Ace takes a moment before looking up into Andrew's eyes, poker face still firmly in place.
"You have to promise me that you'll stay dedicated. No backing out, no flaking. If I'm going ahead with this, I don't want to fail on account of your piddly ass not being able to take up the slack you need to. This is a commitment, Andrew. Are you ready for that kind of commitment?"
It's Andrew's turn to sip his wine, not flinching at the comments, and when he sets the glass down, the confident grin he flashes across the table at the Conways is finally the one that fans the world over know. His voice matches it, holding strength and resolution without a single crack of doubt.
"I was born with ready in my blood. Now, if you'd like to hammer out the particulars, I have it on good authority that the antipasti here is fantastic..."
We fade out on the quartet discussing food...and the future.
So who am I dealing with now? I recognize the old guard, the people who just don't change at all. Roses smell sweet, guys, but even they wilt and start to mold after a while, and you're nowhere near as sweet. You I know, you I don't have to worry about learning and relearning a thousand times over. Same schtick, different day.
No, it's guys like Jack Gaither, who try to hide the fact that they're intolerant bastards by cloaking themselves in patriotism and America, how dare you question me because if you question me you question the red, white and blue you Commie heathen traitor. I wish I could say I hadn't seen people just as obnoxious as you before, Jack, but I can't. I grew up in a city where you didn't exactly get to avoid the real world. I saw people that were hurting and turned to hate, and I'm not going to say you're wrong for fighting back where you see problems. I'm just saying that you paint with a big brush, and that's going to leave some stains where you don't want them.
What bearing does that have on you as a wrestler? None. As a wrestler, you'll just have to content yourself with the fact that you'll be entering a match like this with a man who knows the ins and outs of being an iron man in these things. I know what it takes to survive and rack up eliminations. This is my playground, and I'm looking forward to the opportunity. You ready to match up, big man?
Now, I mentioned Mohammed al-Thani earlier. Talk about a character. Seen your like before too. You've got zealotry pouring out the ears, and mother of mercy is it toxic. I've seen radioactive waste with less detrimental effects than you, man. I don't think you're crap because of where you come from or who you pray to. That's you, man, and that's got nothing to do with you as a wrestler. I just think you're crap because your ego is the size of Saturn and you've got the same "burn it if it doesn't agree with me" mentality as Gaither.
I learned a long time ago that you've got to learn to deal with all types. Men like you two...you're too rigid in your ways, you're zealots with no flex, and that means when you hit hard enough at the wrong angle, you break. Me? I've got enough flex that when I hit, I bounce back. I stay intact. When I hit you two, you're going to bust down into pieces, and after I'm done breaking down 27 others...a date with destiny. A date with the Imperial Championship.
One hell of a comeback story. Fighting back from adversity to achieve the pinnacle of your business. That's what I'm here for. I don't come bearing hate, I come bearing a dream. The real American dream.
Who else wants to live it with me?
Our scene is set at Il Mulino Restaurant in Las Vegas. Andrew Jacobsen and a distinctly uncomfortable-looking Emma Danielson sit at a table set for four, decked out in what is undoubtedly finery. While Andrew looks naturally at home in his sharp and stylish dark green suit, Emma looks ill at ease (though not unflattering) in her own dark red dress. She drums her fingers on the table next to Andrew, who just checks his watch and looks towards the door. Emma speaks up after a long moment.
"So where are they? Come on, it's like..."
Andrew smoothly replies to Emma, reaching over and taking a sip of the wine sample provided, his eyes never wavering. His free hand drops down, resting near a pair of gift bags that sits on the floor next to his chair.
"Two minutes before we asked them to meet us here. It's alright, Em. Jake's a punctual man. They'll be here. You know that."
Sure enough, not ten seconds after he utters the sentence Jake Conway, better known to the wrestling world as the Ace, and his wife Kathleen Conway walk into the restaurant. They're both dressed appropriately for the setting, and it doesn't take any time for Jake to spot Andrew. A quick nod from Andrew confirms, and the Minnesotans stand, greeting their opposite numbers. Andrew and Ace exchange a firm handshake, while Kathy and Emma hug each other, grins on their faces. Emma speaks first.
"Well look at you, Kathy. Looking fantastic. And Jake, good to see you!"
Ace nods, and they switch off, Andrew pulling Kathy into a hug while Ace and Emma share a quick hug themselves. Jake nods, a smirk on his face.
"Andrew. Good to see you. Emma, what a pleasant surprise. You look quite lovely. I hear you've been keeping up correspondence with my wife, eh?"
Kathy rolls her eyes, smiling at Ace as the four sit back down. Emma nods, barely suppressing a grin.
"It's a few e-mails here and there, it's not like we're obsessively writing back and forth."
Ace nods, and when the waiter comes by offering the Conways a sample of the current wine special they both graciously accept. The Conways and Emma sit down, but Andrew reaches down, taking the gift bags and setting them next to Kathy's chair. A surprised eyebrow pops up from Kathy, and Andrew shrugs as he sits down.
"Early Christmas presents for the girls. Got Domino this hyper-modular Lego-style kit. It's got a bunch of included models and light bricks. Hey, what four-year-old never wanted their own glowing dragon?"
The Conways share a stifled chuckle, and Kathy nods, unable to keep the grin from her face.
"What four-year-old indeed? And I'm guessing the other bag is for Solitaire? Looks like it's kind of heavy."
Andrew nods, a proud grin spreading across his face.
"For Solitaire, I got her a Ruby Championship to go with the Starlets Championship I got her...and I figure she's getting to about the age I really started getting into wrestling, so I put together a little best-of DVD for her. Nothing too violent, pretty tame stuff, but they should be matches she'll get interested in. Threw her dad's big moment at Sovereign '09. It's okay if that match's on there, right? Hammond got busted open a little, and I don't know how you two are with her and blood."
Ace and Kathy briefly glance to each other and shrug, with Ace turning back to Andrew.
"Solitaire's old enough to know that people get hurt, especially in our line of work. If I'm remembering the match right, it shouldn't be too much trouble."
Andrew nods, sitting back a bit more in his chair with a relieved smile on his face.
"Alright. I'm pretty happy I managed to get us all together...especially Emma. I think she was just swayed by the idea of being able to spend a few nights decompressing on the strip."
That earns him a teasing swat and a "Hey now!" from Emma. Andrew grins, but quickly forces himself to adopt a more composed demeanor.
"But we're here for business."
Ace nods back, his fairly casual demeanor replaced instantly by the businesslike poker face that so many have stared across from before.
"And what exactly was your proposition? Not that buying my wife and I dinner at a nice restaurant isn't a bad bribe, mind..."
Andrew takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.
"Look, man...Eddie Black isn't the right note for the legend of the Ace to end on. The man's a semi-literate pissant with all the vocabulary of my right boot. And...I'm not happy with how I went out. I figure...well, we've motivated each other before. Why not take a crack at getting back into the ring? I need someone who can help me re-find my limits, and you know I won't let you go in unprepared."
Ace pauses, exhaling slowly as he takes a sip of the wine.
"Fair points on all accounts. Why the push from you, though? What's got up your backside that's got you fired up to wrestle again?"
Andrew sighs, a sober look coming over his face.
"Jake...I've lost almost a year of my life to injuries, and that's when I'm in the prime of my life. What if I get hurt again a few years down the line? I want to have something to sit on, something I can know I'll be secure with. I'm not going to gamble with my future. I want better. And to get better, I need to start with the best. That means you."
Kathy looks over at Ace, shrugging.
"You were saying you'd been getting the itch again, dear...and you could do far worse for a training partner."
The Ace takes a moment before looking up into Andrew's eyes, poker face still firmly in place.
"You have to promise me that you'll stay dedicated. No backing out, no flaking. If I'm going ahead with this, I don't want to fail on account of your piddly ass not being able to take up the slack you need to. This is a commitment, Andrew. Are you ready for that kind of commitment?"
It's Andrew's turn to sip his wine, not flinching at the comments, and when he sets the glass down, the confident grin he flashes across the table at the Conways is finally the one that fans the world over know. His voice matches it, holding strength and resolution without a single crack of doubt.
"I was born with ready in my blood. Now, if you'd like to hammer out the particulars, I have it on good authority that the antipasti here is fantastic..."
We fade out on the quartet discussing food...and the future.
So who am I dealing with now? I recognize the old guard, the people who just don't change at all. Roses smell sweet, guys, but even they wilt and start to mold after a while, and you're nowhere near as sweet. You I know, you I don't have to worry about learning and relearning a thousand times over. Same schtick, different day.
No, it's guys like Jack Gaither, who try to hide the fact that they're intolerant bastards by cloaking themselves in patriotism and America, how dare you question me because if you question me you question the red, white and blue you Commie heathen traitor. I wish I could say I hadn't seen people just as obnoxious as you before, Jack, but I can't. I grew up in a city where you didn't exactly get to avoid the real world. I saw people that were hurting and turned to hate, and I'm not going to say you're wrong for fighting back where you see problems. I'm just saying that you paint with a big brush, and that's going to leave some stains where you don't want them.
What bearing does that have on you as a wrestler? None. As a wrestler, you'll just have to content yourself with the fact that you'll be entering a match like this with a man who knows the ins and outs of being an iron man in these things. I know what it takes to survive and rack up eliminations. This is my playground, and I'm looking forward to the opportunity. You ready to match up, big man?
Now, I mentioned Mohammed al-Thani earlier. Talk about a character. Seen your like before too. You've got zealotry pouring out the ears, and mother of mercy is it toxic. I've seen radioactive waste with less detrimental effects than you, man. I don't think you're crap because of where you come from or who you pray to. That's you, man, and that's got nothing to do with you as a wrestler. I just think you're crap because your ego is the size of Saturn and you've got the same "burn it if it doesn't agree with me" mentality as Gaither.
I learned a long time ago that you've got to learn to deal with all types. Men like you two...you're too rigid in your ways, you're zealots with no flex, and that means when you hit hard enough at the wrong angle, you break. Me? I've got enough flex that when I hit, I bounce back. I stay intact. When I hit you two, you're going to bust down into pieces, and after I'm done breaking down 27 others...a date with destiny. A date with the Imperial Championship.
One hell of a comeback story. Fighting back from adversity to achieve the pinnacle of your business. That's what I'm here for. I don't come bearing hate, I come bearing a dream. The real American dream.
Who else wants to live it with me?
Well howdy there pardner.