Post by Roberto Verona on Oct 25, 2015 17:49:12 GMT
{ Our scene re-opens inside the familiar setting of Roberto Verona’s office, lit dimly with a warm orange low by two tall lamps which stand in the corners of the room. Verona sits at his desk, gently thumbing through a few old articles from his days in New Championship Wrestling, reminiscing on his career as he sits inside the very fruits of his labours. Roberto lets himself smile before almost immediately pulling it back as he hears the door fling open. Quickly, he slides in the articles into a drawer as Hannah Reed walks towards him, clutching a large wad of documents in her hands. }
Roberto Verona: Did you get what I asked for?
{ Hannah walks over to the desk, sliding a set of papers down in front of Roberto. }
Hannah Reed: It was tough, and there’s a few caveats involved but… I think your plan might just work.
Roberto Verona: Don’t think it’s quite as insane as it first sounded anymore, huh?
{ Hannah smiles. }
Hannah Reed: I never said it was insane… merely difficult.
Roberto Verona: You never did like taking on easy cases. How many bounties did you send me on that resembled a Hollywood action blockbuster?
Hannah Reed: Who else could I trust with them? You were the only bounty hunter who didn’t even need the money and could afford elaborate traps, it’s not my fault you liked to be a pseudo-Bond and over do everything.
{ Verona smiles. }
Roberto Verona: Sometimes I wonder if life was easier when we were chasing down tad dodgers, killers and general low life scum around the country. Trying to find loopholes in their contracts in a wrestling company is infinitely more tedious than being shot at.
{ Verona sighs. }
Roberto Verona: So what exactly are these caveats?
Hannah Reed: Well, one of them is pretty obvious. Renee Pleasant cannot leave October Revolution this weekend as the Imperial Champion. If he does he will have far too much leverage and any case we take to court will get thrown out before it even touches the judges work pile.
Roberto Verona: I wouldn’t worry about that. I think we can trust me to get the job done and if I fail, Pleasant will be the least of our worries.
Hannah Reed: Perhaps, but it’s vital we make sure he doesn’t leave as champion. Whether that’s you or Alex…
Roberto Verona: It won’t be Alex.
{ Hannah frowns. }
Hannah Reed: Priorities, Roberto. We just need the belt off Pleasant.
Roberto Verona: Sure. Onto my waist.
{ Hannah groans. }
Hannah Reed: Can we please be serious for a moment?
{ Roberto waves a hand. }
Roberto Verona: Ok, fine, if you insist.
Hannah Reed: Thank you. Once you get the belt off Pleasant, I think we will have a strong case to file for the revocation of his right to not only sue as a result of an early termination of his contract, but also make quite sure that he will not be in any position to work again in the United States, at least for the foreseeable future.
Roberto Verona: What about abroad?
Hannah Reed: Oh, you’ll like this bit. We inserted a clause in every employee’s contract that made it explicitly clear we own the rights to their likeness for at least a period of a year after the termination of their contract. There won’t be any “Renee Pleasant’s” competing inside a wrestling ring without IWF’s express permission for quite some time. Enough time to smear his name in the courts.
{ Roberto smiles wryly. }
Roberto Verona: Remind me to never cross you. You’re a ruthless bitch when you want to be.
{ Hannah leans over the desk and kisses Verona. }
Hannah Reed: And that’s why you love me. You told me to take his career…
{ Hannah looks Verona in the eyes. }
Hannah Reed: Now you just need what you do best and make sure you take his belt.
{ Our scene opens inside a dark, dingy gym, the sound of fists crashing into a punching bag reverberating around. A light flickers on the ceiling as it swings slowly back and forth on a pair of rusted metal chains and our camera fixes itself on the figure of Roberto Verona, shifting side to side as he lands strike after strike. Moments pass as his blows thunder around the room before we notice Jake “The Ace” Conway enter the room through a doorway. He pauses for a moment, taking in the relatively dilapidated surroundings, out of place from Roberto’s usual opulence, before he walks towards his old friend. }
Jake Conway: Hannah told me I could find you here. Why am I not surprised you’ve taken to shutting yourself away in this dingy old crap heap again?
{ Verona lands a few more punches to the bag before grabbing it firmly, holding it in place as he looks up at Jake. }
Roberto Verona: Maybe you know me better than I assumed, Jake.
{ Roberto wipes the sweat from his brow. }
Roberto Verona: What can I do for you?
{ Jake walks over to a bench direct in front of Verona, climbing over it before sitting down, pausing for a moment as Verona looks at his with bemusement. }
Roberto Verona: Well, spit it out. The quiet and mysterious thing might have worked on Kathy back in the day but it won’t get what you want out of me.
Jake Conway: Actually the technique I used was….
{ Roberto shakes his hand. }
Roberto Verona: Ok, ok, enough, I’ve heard the courtship story enough times now. Why are you here?
Jake Conway: Something’s been bothering me about this whole Renee Pleasant affair.
{ Roberto sighs, landing another frustrated punch into the punching bag. }
Roberto Verona: I promised you I’d take care of it, Jake. You don’t need to worry about Kathy’s safety.
Jake Conway: I know that.
Roberto Verona: What do you think this weekend is about? I’m going to solve the problem once and for all.
{ Jake pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. }
Jake Conway: That’s the thing, something about all this makes me feel there’s more to this weekend than just getting rid of Renee Pleasant.
Roberto Verona: I don’t have time for riddles, Jake. Spit it out.
Jake Conway: Something tells me that this whole shit with Pleasant, the competition… the blood feuds… it’s reminded you what it’s like to be inside that ring, every week.
Roberto Verona: I think you’re…
Jake Conway: Let’s not beat around the bush, Roberto, we’ve both been in this business for long enough. You’ve been looking for a way back in, haven’t you? This Pleasant crap is just a convenient excuse to lace up your boots and the belt is a reason to stay put.
{ Roberto doesn’t respond. }
Jake Conway: I’m right aren’t I?
Roberto Verona: Jake… he’s trying to destroy my company, what else do you expect me to do? Sit back and just let him because heaven forbid I dare pursue a career I’m still in the prime of?
Jake Conway: I know that’s what you like to tell yourself, but I think we both know you’re using this to your advantage. You’re not a stupid man, Roberto. We both know you’ve wanted to find an excuse to get back inside that ring that Hannah couldn’t talk you out of.
Roberto Verona: She understands…
Jake Conway: She understands when you’re just indulging in a part time bitch slap or two, but you and I both know she’s never going to be happy about you being out there full time. This championship is a very convenient reason to be in there week after week, right?
{ Roberto pushes the punchbag away, turning to lean over the ring as he grabs a nearby towel. }
Roberto Verona: How did you know?
{ Jake smiles. }
Jake Conway: Contrary to popular belief, I’ve had to fight with the urge to lose myself to this business and get in deep for the glory at the expense of my private life too. I just always chose my family, and I don’t regret it.
{ Jake pauses. }
Roberto Verona: That’s all very well, but why are you bringing this up?
Jake Conway: I want you to ask yourself something, Roberto. Do you know exactly what you’re risking this weekend?
{ He lifts himself up. }
Jake Conway: Do you understand what is truly at stake?
{ Roberto turns to look over his shoulder as the men stand in silence and our scene slowly fades to black. }
Roberto Verona: Did you get what I asked for?
{ Hannah walks over to the desk, sliding a set of papers down in front of Roberto. }
Hannah Reed: It was tough, and there’s a few caveats involved but… I think your plan might just work.
Roberto Verona: Don’t think it’s quite as insane as it first sounded anymore, huh?
{ Hannah smiles. }
Hannah Reed: I never said it was insane… merely difficult.
Roberto Verona: You never did like taking on easy cases. How many bounties did you send me on that resembled a Hollywood action blockbuster?
Hannah Reed: Who else could I trust with them? You were the only bounty hunter who didn’t even need the money and could afford elaborate traps, it’s not my fault you liked to be a pseudo-Bond and over do everything.
{ Verona smiles. }
Roberto Verona: Sometimes I wonder if life was easier when we were chasing down tad dodgers, killers and general low life scum around the country. Trying to find loopholes in their contracts in a wrestling company is infinitely more tedious than being shot at.
{ Verona sighs. }
Roberto Verona: So what exactly are these caveats?
Hannah Reed: Well, one of them is pretty obvious. Renee Pleasant cannot leave October Revolution this weekend as the Imperial Champion. If he does he will have far too much leverage and any case we take to court will get thrown out before it even touches the judges work pile.
Roberto Verona: I wouldn’t worry about that. I think we can trust me to get the job done and if I fail, Pleasant will be the least of our worries.
Hannah Reed: Perhaps, but it’s vital we make sure he doesn’t leave as champion. Whether that’s you or Alex…
Roberto Verona: It won’t be Alex.
{ Hannah frowns. }
Hannah Reed: Priorities, Roberto. We just need the belt off Pleasant.
Roberto Verona: Sure. Onto my waist.
{ Hannah groans. }
Hannah Reed: Can we please be serious for a moment?
{ Roberto waves a hand. }
Roberto Verona: Ok, fine, if you insist.
Hannah Reed: Thank you. Once you get the belt off Pleasant, I think we will have a strong case to file for the revocation of his right to not only sue as a result of an early termination of his contract, but also make quite sure that he will not be in any position to work again in the United States, at least for the foreseeable future.
Roberto Verona: What about abroad?
Hannah Reed: Oh, you’ll like this bit. We inserted a clause in every employee’s contract that made it explicitly clear we own the rights to their likeness for at least a period of a year after the termination of their contract. There won’t be any “Renee Pleasant’s” competing inside a wrestling ring without IWF’s express permission for quite some time. Enough time to smear his name in the courts.
{ Roberto smiles wryly. }
Roberto Verona: Remind me to never cross you. You’re a ruthless bitch when you want to be.
{ Hannah leans over the desk and kisses Verona. }
Hannah Reed: And that’s why you love me. You told me to take his career…
{ Hannah looks Verona in the eyes. }
Hannah Reed: Now you just need what you do best and make sure you take his belt.
Oh sweet Irony.
How I doff my cap to you.
Two months removed from Alex Jones’ self-righteous crusade against my alleged rampant dictatorial tyranny and now he too has tasted the bitter sweet disappointment that only a parent of a movement can feel. The stinging pain and frustration of watching all of his disciples betray his noble vision, treading off the path towards a destination that is not his own.
Ironic indeed. Karma truly is a bitch.
So how does it feel, Alex? What is it like watching those you have pledged yourself to in an attempt better their lots in life betray everything you have built for them? What is it like to stand by and watch as they tear down everything you purported to stand for? What is it like to have to sit there and listen to those you claim to care for turn around and look into that camera and tear you down for sticking by your morals?
Welcome to my world, Jones. Where constant bitter disappointment in my employees is a daily pill I have to swallow. Just be grateful you’re learning this early enough to pull out now in a tantrum and be the eternal flip-flopping coward you’ve always been.
It must be quite the relief to know you’ve got a get out clause to cover up your shortcomings now the infants have tossed the toys out of the pram.
Hey, maybe you could go back to being the genius mastermind who fooled the world to get a belt only to lose it months later to a man you’ve belatedly realised is a veritable cancer and we all have to go through hell to correct your mistake…
Oh.
On seconds thoughts, please don’t do that again. Maybe leave it to the professionals this time.
You know Alex, they define insanity as repeatedly doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. How many times have you defy my will now?
You tried to stop me taking the NCW National Championship and you failed.
You tried to show the world I was wrong to doubt you and defended the Imperial Championship against Renee yourself and you failed.
You tried to destroy me to prove to the world I am a tyrant and you failed.
Time after time you’ve attempted to destroy me and what do you have to show for it? One solitary victory at A Night To Remember that ultimately become A Night To Forget for you for reasons we needn’t repeat because we both know it’s a stain on our respective careers.
This isn’t a fucking fairy tale, Alex. It’s a God damn macabre groundhog day where you can only ever lose in new a spectacular ways.
It’s time to face reality. You’re a talented wrestler, Alex, but the fact is that you seem to want to rest on your laurels and coast through life hoping that will be enough to make you an icon. Newsflash, it isn’t. What separates you from me isn’t in ring skill because anybody who isn’t being a dishonest charlatan will tell you that ability is finite, at some point we all reach the same zenith.
No, what separates you and me is pure unwavering unadulterated determination to stay the course.
Whilst you will stand there and make a bunch of promises you have absolutely no intention of keeping and will backtrack on if you should fail, I nailed my manifesto to the doors the moment I walked into the big time. I lived and died by them in my successes and my failures, no matter what I stood by what I said and I made damn sure that I accomplished my goals. Unlike you I don’t make empty promises on a weekly basis because I think that’s what people want to hear, I never waver from my beliefs and change my opinions on a weekly basis.
What separates you and me is that I am a man of my word and you’re a walking book of contradictions. When the going gets tough, Alex Jones’ tune gets changing. It’s a tale as old as time, only it lacks the endearing whimsy of a Disney production.
At this point the bible has more credibility than you do.
So make your proclamations, Alex, promise them the world before delivering a handful of soil. Be the eternal failure you’ve always been, a mere hurdle for the leviathans to overcome. Sell them your snake oil.
I’m going to do what I’ve always done. I’m going to strap up my boots, walk down that ramp and put Renee Pleasant in the ground.
And if by some miracle I fail in my endeavours? If I cannot stop the infection which rots away at the very foundations of this company? If I walk out with my ass kicked and my pride wounded?
I’ll accept the consequences of my failures, dust myself down and continue to do everything in my power to destroy Renee Pleasant until he’s a footnote in this company’s history or that bastard puts me six feet under.
Because that’s what makes me a legend and you merely a “former Imperial champion”.
Prepare the excuses, Jones.
You’re going to need them.
How I doff my cap to you.
Two months removed from Alex Jones’ self-righteous crusade against my alleged rampant dictatorial tyranny and now he too has tasted the bitter sweet disappointment that only a parent of a movement can feel. The stinging pain and frustration of watching all of his disciples betray his noble vision, treading off the path towards a destination that is not his own.
Ironic indeed. Karma truly is a bitch.
So how does it feel, Alex? What is it like watching those you have pledged yourself to in an attempt better their lots in life betray everything you have built for them? What is it like to stand by and watch as they tear down everything you purported to stand for? What is it like to have to sit there and listen to those you claim to care for turn around and look into that camera and tear you down for sticking by your morals?
Welcome to my world, Jones. Where constant bitter disappointment in my employees is a daily pill I have to swallow. Just be grateful you’re learning this early enough to pull out now in a tantrum and be the eternal flip-flopping coward you’ve always been.
It must be quite the relief to know you’ve got a get out clause to cover up your shortcomings now the infants have tossed the toys out of the pram.
Hey, maybe you could go back to being the genius mastermind who fooled the world to get a belt only to lose it months later to a man you’ve belatedly realised is a veritable cancer and we all have to go through hell to correct your mistake…
Oh.
On seconds thoughts, please don’t do that again. Maybe leave it to the professionals this time.
You know Alex, they define insanity as repeatedly doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. How many times have you defy my will now?
You tried to stop me taking the NCW National Championship and you failed.
You tried to show the world I was wrong to doubt you and defended the Imperial Championship against Renee yourself and you failed.
You tried to destroy me to prove to the world I am a tyrant and you failed.
Time after time you’ve attempted to destroy me and what do you have to show for it? One solitary victory at A Night To Remember that ultimately become A Night To Forget for you for reasons we needn’t repeat because we both know it’s a stain on our respective careers.
This isn’t a fucking fairy tale, Alex. It’s a God damn macabre groundhog day where you can only ever lose in new a spectacular ways.
It’s time to face reality. You’re a talented wrestler, Alex, but the fact is that you seem to want to rest on your laurels and coast through life hoping that will be enough to make you an icon. Newsflash, it isn’t. What separates you from me isn’t in ring skill because anybody who isn’t being a dishonest charlatan will tell you that ability is finite, at some point we all reach the same zenith.
No, what separates you and me is pure unwavering unadulterated determination to stay the course.
Whilst you will stand there and make a bunch of promises you have absolutely no intention of keeping and will backtrack on if you should fail, I nailed my manifesto to the doors the moment I walked into the big time. I lived and died by them in my successes and my failures, no matter what I stood by what I said and I made damn sure that I accomplished my goals. Unlike you I don’t make empty promises on a weekly basis because I think that’s what people want to hear, I never waver from my beliefs and change my opinions on a weekly basis.
What separates you and me is that I am a man of my word and you’re a walking book of contradictions. When the going gets tough, Alex Jones’ tune gets changing. It’s a tale as old as time, only it lacks the endearing whimsy of a Disney production.
At this point the bible has more credibility than you do.
So make your proclamations, Alex, promise them the world before delivering a handful of soil. Be the eternal failure you’ve always been, a mere hurdle for the leviathans to overcome. Sell them your snake oil.
I’m going to do what I’ve always done. I’m going to strap up my boots, walk down that ramp and put Renee Pleasant in the ground.
And if by some miracle I fail in my endeavours? If I cannot stop the infection which rots away at the very foundations of this company? If I walk out with my ass kicked and my pride wounded?
I’ll accept the consequences of my failures, dust myself down and continue to do everything in my power to destroy Renee Pleasant until he’s a footnote in this company’s history or that bastard puts me six feet under.
Because that’s what makes me a legend and you merely a “former Imperial champion”.
Prepare the excuses, Jones.
You’re going to need them.
{ Our scene opens inside a dark, dingy gym, the sound of fists crashing into a punching bag reverberating around. A light flickers on the ceiling as it swings slowly back and forth on a pair of rusted metal chains and our camera fixes itself on the figure of Roberto Verona, shifting side to side as he lands strike after strike. Moments pass as his blows thunder around the room before we notice Jake “The Ace” Conway enter the room through a doorway. He pauses for a moment, taking in the relatively dilapidated surroundings, out of place from Roberto’s usual opulence, before he walks towards his old friend. }
Jake Conway: Hannah told me I could find you here. Why am I not surprised you’ve taken to shutting yourself away in this dingy old crap heap again?
{ Verona lands a few more punches to the bag before grabbing it firmly, holding it in place as he looks up at Jake. }
Roberto Verona: Maybe you know me better than I assumed, Jake.
{ Roberto wipes the sweat from his brow. }
Roberto Verona: What can I do for you?
{ Jake walks over to a bench direct in front of Verona, climbing over it before sitting down, pausing for a moment as Verona looks at his with bemusement. }
Roberto Verona: Well, spit it out. The quiet and mysterious thing might have worked on Kathy back in the day but it won’t get what you want out of me.
Jake Conway: Actually the technique I used was….
{ Roberto shakes his hand. }
Roberto Verona: Ok, ok, enough, I’ve heard the courtship story enough times now. Why are you here?
Jake Conway: Something’s been bothering me about this whole Renee Pleasant affair.
{ Roberto sighs, landing another frustrated punch into the punching bag. }
Roberto Verona: I promised you I’d take care of it, Jake. You don’t need to worry about Kathy’s safety.
Jake Conway: I know that.
Roberto Verona: What do you think this weekend is about? I’m going to solve the problem once and for all.
{ Jake pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. }
Jake Conway: That’s the thing, something about all this makes me feel there’s more to this weekend than just getting rid of Renee Pleasant.
Roberto Verona: I don’t have time for riddles, Jake. Spit it out.
Jake Conway: Something tells me that this whole shit with Pleasant, the competition… the blood feuds… it’s reminded you what it’s like to be inside that ring, every week.
Roberto Verona: I think you’re…
Jake Conway: Let’s not beat around the bush, Roberto, we’ve both been in this business for long enough. You’ve been looking for a way back in, haven’t you? This Pleasant crap is just a convenient excuse to lace up your boots and the belt is a reason to stay put.
{ Roberto doesn’t respond. }
Jake Conway: I’m right aren’t I?
Roberto Verona: Jake… he’s trying to destroy my company, what else do you expect me to do? Sit back and just let him because heaven forbid I dare pursue a career I’m still in the prime of?
Jake Conway: I know that’s what you like to tell yourself, but I think we both know you’re using this to your advantage. You’re not a stupid man, Roberto. We both know you’ve wanted to find an excuse to get back inside that ring that Hannah couldn’t talk you out of.
Roberto Verona: She understands…
Jake Conway: She understands when you’re just indulging in a part time bitch slap or two, but you and I both know she’s never going to be happy about you being out there full time. This championship is a very convenient reason to be in there week after week, right?
{ Roberto pushes the punchbag away, turning to lean over the ring as he grabs a nearby towel. }
Roberto Verona: How did you know?
{ Jake smiles. }
Jake Conway: Contrary to popular belief, I’ve had to fight with the urge to lose myself to this business and get in deep for the glory at the expense of my private life too. I just always chose my family, and I don’t regret it.
{ Jake pauses. }
Roberto Verona: That’s all very well, but why are you bringing this up?
Jake Conway: I want you to ask yourself something, Roberto. Do you know exactly what you’re risking this weekend?
{ He lifts himself up. }
Jake Conway: Do you understand what is truly at stake?
{ Roberto turns to look over his shoulder as the men stand in silence and our scene slowly fades to black. }
Here we are, Renee.
The inevitable conclusion of our story.
We both knew when this started that it was going to come to this. You. Me. A ring. Ok, maybe we never predicted there would be some hanger on desperately trying to perform a cameo in a grander epic, but the lack of rules, potential for serious physical trauma and the biggest prize in the entire business are still decorating the stage we have both marched towards performing on.
It may seem like madness, but all I feel is a sense of relief.
I have had to stand idly by, watching you become stronger at the expense of everybody else as I stubbornly refused to deal with you personally. I became so wrapped up in the fallacy of letting everybody thrive in my absence that I allowed your pestilence to grow as well. Beyond a brief spell of trying to take the belt of Alex myself, I’ve stood by that delusion and where has that got us?
Sponsors are leaving in droves.
My employees are left broken beyond repair on a weekly basis.
You continue to abuse and manipulate people desperate to find their place in life into follow your disgusting example.
It’s an endless self-destructive cycle that, like it or not, I have to personally end, whether you believe I really deserve to or not. You’ve all had your chance to prevent Pleasant from becoming the monster he is with an iron grip on the Imperial Championship and whether you want to admit it, up to this point…
You’ve failed.
You on the other hand, Pleasant? You played your role as the wolf in sheep’s clothing to perfection and I can only accept my part in facilitating that great con. I helped put as many bricks in the wall of your victim narrative that the roster bought into by slaughtering the herd to get to you as you did by provoking my rage. I’ll give you credit, Pleasant, you lured me in and contrary to my instincts I consumed your bait readily in my attempt to cut your legs out from under you before you ever picked up steam.
There is a method to your villainy, something people refuse to accept.
Everyone wants to paint you as a monster, the metaphysical bogeyman who oozes malevolence from ever pour, whose only single minded focus is the utter misery of his peers and the degradation of this company’s reputation. It helps them process your evil more easily if they view it through the lens of Renee Pleasant, mindless sociopath.
Because they do not want to accept that really, deep down, each one of your despicable actions is a cool, calculated act of hate. Actions they have directly enabled by buying into your wounded puppy dog routine.
Monsters are easier to slaughter when you can perform enough mental gymnastics to absolve yourself in any complicity in their path of destruction.
I was never stupid enough to buy into this, I’m ready to admit my part in enabling your behaviour. I should have known that persecuting you would only create a martyr, I should have known that you exploit that to strengthen your position and I should have known that eventually, your true colours would leak when there was nobody left who was capable of defying you.
I am as much to blame for creating you as anybody else. The difference is I am still in a position to do something about it.
I’m not a perfect man, I’ve never claimed to be. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve committed sins, now is my chance to atone for them. I have blood on my hands, Renee, blood that you have spilled and I can’t just wash that out. The only way I can get justice for those you have wrong is by putting my body on the line to put a stop to your madness, only my pain, my suffering, can ever repay the debt you have created with the bodies of the roster.
If Roberto Verona has to die to save his vision, then so be it.
I am not going to stand idly by as you begin to groom Kayla Richards to become a vacuous puppet like her sister. I am not going to stand here as you destroy everybody’s future by dragging this company’s reputation through the mud. I am not going to just watch whilst you tear apart everything I worked my whole life to build and take us back to the dark ages.
I am going to take your belt, Renee, and I am going to take your career.
I will not just wound you, allowing you to limp out next week and continue you villainy out of the spot light. I will put you out of commission, permanently, because knocking out a few of your teeth isn’t enough to dull your bite. Anything less will be an abject failure on my part.
If you are left able to continue your behaviour and spread your rotten influence no amount of championship Gold will be enough to hide the fact that I have failed. This belt will be a symbol of my sacrifice for this company, but it will be a hollow victory if I cannot resign you to history.
Anything but your complete removal from IWF will be a failure.
So march out there with that grin on your face, be as un-empathically creative as you want to be in causing myself and Alex pain and leave me as broken as you desire.
But make sure you hurt me enough that I can’t possibly stand, because as long as there is a breath in my body, as long as I can throw a punch and hold myself up, I will not stop in my mission to erase you from this company.
I will not stop until I am standing over you, safe in the knowledge that my conquest will be the end of Renee Pleasant.
The end of your reign of terror.
The inevitable conclusion of our story.
We both knew when this started that it was going to come to this. You. Me. A ring. Ok, maybe we never predicted there would be some hanger on desperately trying to perform a cameo in a grander epic, but the lack of rules, potential for serious physical trauma and the biggest prize in the entire business are still decorating the stage we have both marched towards performing on.
It may seem like madness, but all I feel is a sense of relief.
I have had to stand idly by, watching you become stronger at the expense of everybody else as I stubbornly refused to deal with you personally. I became so wrapped up in the fallacy of letting everybody thrive in my absence that I allowed your pestilence to grow as well. Beyond a brief spell of trying to take the belt of Alex myself, I’ve stood by that delusion and where has that got us?
Sponsors are leaving in droves.
My employees are left broken beyond repair on a weekly basis.
You continue to abuse and manipulate people desperate to find their place in life into follow your disgusting example.
It’s an endless self-destructive cycle that, like it or not, I have to personally end, whether you believe I really deserve to or not. You’ve all had your chance to prevent Pleasant from becoming the monster he is with an iron grip on the Imperial Championship and whether you want to admit it, up to this point…
You’ve failed.
You on the other hand, Pleasant? You played your role as the wolf in sheep’s clothing to perfection and I can only accept my part in facilitating that great con. I helped put as many bricks in the wall of your victim narrative that the roster bought into by slaughtering the herd to get to you as you did by provoking my rage. I’ll give you credit, Pleasant, you lured me in and contrary to my instincts I consumed your bait readily in my attempt to cut your legs out from under you before you ever picked up steam.
There is a method to your villainy, something people refuse to accept.
Everyone wants to paint you as a monster, the metaphysical bogeyman who oozes malevolence from ever pour, whose only single minded focus is the utter misery of his peers and the degradation of this company’s reputation. It helps them process your evil more easily if they view it through the lens of Renee Pleasant, mindless sociopath.
Because they do not want to accept that really, deep down, each one of your despicable actions is a cool, calculated act of hate. Actions they have directly enabled by buying into your wounded puppy dog routine.
Monsters are easier to slaughter when you can perform enough mental gymnastics to absolve yourself in any complicity in their path of destruction.
I was never stupid enough to buy into this, I’m ready to admit my part in enabling your behaviour. I should have known that persecuting you would only create a martyr, I should have known that you exploit that to strengthen your position and I should have known that eventually, your true colours would leak when there was nobody left who was capable of defying you.
I am as much to blame for creating you as anybody else. The difference is I am still in a position to do something about it.
I’m not a perfect man, I’ve never claimed to be. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve committed sins, now is my chance to atone for them. I have blood on my hands, Renee, blood that you have spilled and I can’t just wash that out. The only way I can get justice for those you have wrong is by putting my body on the line to put a stop to your madness, only my pain, my suffering, can ever repay the debt you have created with the bodies of the roster.
If Roberto Verona has to die to save his vision, then so be it.
I am not going to stand idly by as you begin to groom Kayla Richards to become a vacuous puppet like her sister. I am not going to stand here as you destroy everybody’s future by dragging this company’s reputation through the mud. I am not going to just watch whilst you tear apart everything I worked my whole life to build and take us back to the dark ages.
I am going to take your belt, Renee, and I am going to take your career.
I will not just wound you, allowing you to limp out next week and continue you villainy out of the spot light. I will put you out of commission, permanently, because knocking out a few of your teeth isn’t enough to dull your bite. Anything less will be an abject failure on my part.
If you are left able to continue your behaviour and spread your rotten influence no amount of championship Gold will be enough to hide the fact that I have failed. This belt will be a symbol of my sacrifice for this company, but it will be a hollow victory if I cannot resign you to history.
Anything but your complete removal from IWF will be a failure.
So march out there with that grin on your face, be as un-empathically creative as you want to be in causing myself and Alex pain and leave me as broken as you desire.
But make sure you hurt me enough that I can’t possibly stand, because as long as there is a breath in my body, as long as I can throw a punch and hold myself up, I will not stop in my mission to erase you from this company.
I will not stop until I am standing over you, safe in the knowledge that my conquest will be the end of Renee Pleasant.
The end of your reign of terror.
Well howdy there pardner.