Post by T.K. Smiles on Aug 28, 2016 4:46:41 GMT
Once more we find ourselves inside the old and darkened house in which T.K. and his "brother" Ricky reside. Just like the last time T.K. sits in his old wooden rocker, rocking back and forth while Ricky sits on the couch not to far from him. The remains of the broken coffee table still lay on the floor as a reminder of how things end up when you don't follow the rules in the House of Smiles.
The duo are silently sitting there minding their own business when suddenly there is a knock at the door. Without even needing to answer it, T.K. knows who is behind it. There is only one person who would come to visit them and that's his mother. Having been unwillingly invited over by his acolyte Ricky, he was now set to come face to face with his biggest challenge yet; his mom.
Reluctantly, T.K. rose up from his chair and with great stride after stride walked towards the door. It wasn't long before he reached his destination and he quickly opened it up and proved his intuition correct. Standing before him was his Mother. A raggedy looking old lady of around sixty. Entirely grey hair and an old hand knitted sweatshirt that just creams old lady. T.K. motions for her to enter his humble abode and so she does, albeit with a smug and disgusted look upon her face. T.K non-verbally signals for Ricky to leave them alone and his quickly obliged and rushes off to the back room.
T.K. Smiles: Hello, Mother. To what do I owe this honor?
Mother: Kid, you sure as hell have a dirty house...didn't I raise you better than this?
T.K. Smiles: Come now, we both know you didn't raise me at all...
Mother: Hmph. Still with that attitude. If it hadn't been for your father and I having sexual relations, then you'd never have been born, surely even you are smart enough to understand that.
T.K. cringes at the thought of his parents getting intimate. His mother notices this and smiles in delight as if she were happy to have offended her son inside of his own home.
T.K. Smiles: Ah, yes, and where is Father today?
Mother: He wasn't able to make it, I'm afraid. Good thing to. All this dust would have just clogged up his oxygen tubing and he'd have keeled over dead before even stepping over the threshold.
T.K. Smiles: If that were the case then you should have brought him!
Mother gives him a dangerous look, one that gives off the impression that she's ready to jump on him and rip out his throat for saying such a thing. Implying that he'd enjoy seeing his own father suffocate and die before his very eyes was something his mother could never even fathom a man would enjoy.
Mother: Don't imply such dark things, J-
T.K. Smiles: DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!
T.K. lost his cool, much to his mother's displeasure. This, however, only served to anger her more. Without fear, she quickly stepped up to her son and got right in his face as many people in his profession had done with their opponents over the course of time and she looked him directly in the eyes.
Mother: You dare raise your voice to your own mother? You aint so old that I can't bend you over my knee and administer a proper punishment now, so you better watch your mouth!
T.K. took a step back to create some distance between his mother and himself without ever breaking eye contact. He had begun to sweat, and the droplets that ran down his face had washed some of the face paint into his eyes which had now begun to water, giving off the impression that he was crying. Not wanting his mother to see what she may presume to be tears, he quickly turned around walked back into the shadows where his chair awaited. Once seated, he began to speak.
T.K. Smiles: Mother, my name is T.K. now. You nor father have any right to call me by any name but the one I wish. And quite frankly I've grown tired of this meeting. It was a blunder for Ricky to invite you over. I'll give you not even a penny of my money, now please see yourself out.
Mother: Look T.K. Your father is gravely ill and requires a heart transplant. We can't afford it on our salaries and since you make significantly more than us...I thought maybe you'd finally show some appreciation for all we've done for you...
T.K. scoff at the idea of lending his mother money for any reason, especially one which was obviously a ruse to extort her own son.
T.K. Smiles: Appreciation for what exactly, Mother? For all the broken bones? For the scars on my face? APPRECIATION FOR WHAT MOTHER?! FOR WHAT?!
Mother: Listen to me! Your fa-
T.K. Smiles: No Mother, YOU LISTEN TO ME! I've seen through your petty lies, your illusions will no longer trap me. Father is perfectly fine. You want money not for his health care but so you can recapture the days of your youth with alcohol and drugs. So that you can feel no shame for the way you treated me when I was just a boy, mother. I know how this song ends, I've seen it before...you will get no money from me. Now BEGONE!
Agitated and desperately trying to fight back her own tears, mother rushed out of the door and back to the taxi awaiting her in the road. T.K. stayed sitting in his chair, a huge smile forming over his face.
T.K. Smiles: RICKY!
The loud thumping of shoes hitting the wooden floor are heard as Ricky barges from the backroom into the living room and takes position in front of T.K.
Ricky Smiles: How can...I help you...Master?
T.K. Smiles: I'm sure you were listening into my conversation with Mother, so do me a kindness and follow her. Follow her all the way back to her house and check on Father for me. See if he's as she said...
Ricky nods silently as T.K. gestures for him to begin his task. Within seconds he is gone and T.K. is left alone in the shadows of his home, much to his enjoyment.
Jayson Matthews. A man who can put up one hell of a fight, I'll give him that...if nothing else. But you know what? While it'll always go down in the record books as a draw, do you really believe in that outcome Jayson?
Do you?
Lemme explain something to you, pal. I'm an unknown quantity. You're somebody who at some point has already proven himself. Somehow that only God himself, if he existed, could understand you managed to finagle your way into the main event scene with a shot at that big glorious belt...
So how do you think it looked when you found yourself unable to defeat lil' ole me, Jayson?
Not good. Not Good at all.
But that's a matter for another time, for you see I have two sacrifices to offer up to my soul this week! Two unlucky wrestlers looking to do what I did last week and make a name for themselves, only to find themselves being used as nothing more than my playthings...a means to become happy...
Mike Phoenix. Heh. How cute you are in thinking your win last week was anything but handed to you. You were against a fake clown named Freakke and that incredibly incompetent Dominic Creed! Of course you were able to win...but...again that's a matter for another time. For now...you're up against somebody that poses a far greater threat to you than anybody else ever could.
You're up against me.
Just for a second let's take Wallace out of the equation. Bam. He's a non-factor. That leaves just us, the way it should be...the way it will be. You and I...much like Jayson and I last week, are going to go to war. Only this time I won't hold back. I'll press the little red button and launch the nuclear devices because as great as I think my debut went, it could have without a doubt gone better and now I must prove that I can follow up on that success with another showing, and a win.
But I must ask you something, Mike. I'm curious. Why chose the name Phoenix? Surely that can't be your real name. So then I ask you...why that name? Is it because you believe yourself to be a once in a lifetime talent? An athlete so incredibly powerful that you became a creature of legend? Of myth? No...it's because whenever you get defeated you raise from the ashes and come back even stronger, isn't it Mike?
Yes...that has to be it. That has to be the reason!
Then...I hope to see it. Once I destroy you, and I mean destroy you, I want to see you raise back up...bigger...stronger...more dangerous than ever.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND, MIKE?!
If somebody like you...somebody who had everything can be reduced to nothing and come back from it...why can't I? Why can't I be reborn into a better family, one that loves me...one that cares for me. You claimed your parents loved you...
WELL GO TO HELL MIKE, BECAUSE NOBODY EVER LOVED ME!
You see, Mike...we're quite different but I'm going to break you. I'm going to make you feel everything I felt growing up over the course of our match, I'm going to make you...experience...everything I've... experienced.
To put it simply...I'm going to make another me, out of you. I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes. I don't care if I have to slowly peel every ounce of skin off of your body and carve you like a thanksgiving turkey...I will make you feel the way I felt, Mike...
I want you...no...I want the whole world to understand how I feel, to know what it's like...to grow up unloved....unwanted. To grow up hated by everybody around, forced to hide in your room out of fear of cruel and increasingly unusual punishments. I'm sure you're aware of how I got these scars, aren't you Mike? As I told Jayson last week...I was forced to eat glass....but...but that's not all my parents did to me. Would you like to hear a story, Michael?
Once upon a time there was a little boy referred to only as The Kid. Two years had passed since he was forced to eat broken glass and his face was forever marked. Well, one day he came out of his room in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and in doing so accidentally woke up his father who had work the next morning.
Oh boy was he furious, Michael. Do you know what he did?
DO YOU?! DO YOU KNOW?!
No...you couldn't know...so let me finish the story. He grabbed that little boy by the arm as hard as he could, so hard that the red imprint of his fingers would stay there for several days, and he forced him back into his room. But that's not all he did....he pushed the boy back without letting go of his arm, causing it to stretch outwards so that it reached outside the doorway and....he slammed the heavy solid oak door as hard as he could onto the poor boy's arm, breaking it. Do you know who that little boy was, Michael?
IT WAS ME! MY OWN FATHER DID THAT TO ME! MY OWN FATHER BROKE MY ARM BECAUSE I HAD TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!
So Mikey, next time you want to brag about how loving your parents were, next time you want to talk down to somebody because their upbringing was less than stellar, think before you do...and don't.
All you've managed to do is make me angry, all you've done is get me allllllllll worked up and now...now I'm going to make you feel every emotion I've ever felt growing up and I'm going to break you. Hell, maybe if you turn out properly enough I'll even make you my new acolyte.
Now, let's bring Wallace back into the picture shall we? He's a man who leaves me quite...confused. One second he's licking a giant lollipop with his leg resting on his shoulder, and the next he's flat on his back while the referee counts to three. Less than impressive if I had to say...but truth be told I'm quite interested in him myself. He may be a little to...happy to make things work right now but once I break him in a bit he'd make for a fine acolyte.
So Wallace, a question for you...if you'd be so kind as to answer it...
Would you like to become my pawn?
WOULD YOU, WALLACE?!
You could achieve great things under my tutelage. Of course...you'd have to totally submit to me first and adopt the Smiles name much like Ricky has done for me...and that is no easy task.
Beatings. Torture. Starvation. Broken bones. Those are all things you will feel while training to become my acolyte. Physical and emotional trauma will be featured in abundance. These are necessary to break you of your free will, to prove your allegiance to me and allow me to make all your decisions for you so that you may achieve greater things. You see...Ricky was much stronger than you before I broke him in.
He was a bright young boy from Harvard aspiring to be a lawyer, but some things went wrong and he found himself desperate so he...he came to me for help. I don't recall what for, exactly, but it doesn't matter at this point. All that matters now is that our chance meeting ended up with Ricky being totally and utterly loyal to me. Being completely obedient with few exceptions. He doesn't even remember his former name, only his real name; Ricky Smiles.
So Wallace, I ask you again...will you adorn my flag and carry the name Smiles? Will you submit to me and become my loyal hound? I guess though...it doesn't really matter, does it? Once that bell rings...both you and Mr. Phoenix will end up on the receiving end of the training weither you like it or not...and while Phoenix may be going through it just because, you'll soon have to make a decision as to whether or not you'll join me...or refuse me. And trust me, Wallace, you don't want to refuse me. See you both very soon.
Remember; smile.
The duo are silently sitting there minding their own business when suddenly there is a knock at the door. Without even needing to answer it, T.K. knows who is behind it. There is only one person who would come to visit them and that's his mother. Having been unwillingly invited over by his acolyte Ricky, he was now set to come face to face with his biggest challenge yet; his mom.
Reluctantly, T.K. rose up from his chair and with great stride after stride walked towards the door. It wasn't long before he reached his destination and he quickly opened it up and proved his intuition correct. Standing before him was his Mother. A raggedy looking old lady of around sixty. Entirely grey hair and an old hand knitted sweatshirt that just creams old lady. T.K. motions for her to enter his humble abode and so she does, albeit with a smug and disgusted look upon her face. T.K non-verbally signals for Ricky to leave them alone and his quickly obliged and rushes off to the back room.
T.K. Smiles: Hello, Mother. To what do I owe this honor?
Mother: Kid, you sure as hell have a dirty house...didn't I raise you better than this?
T.K. Smiles: Come now, we both know you didn't raise me at all...
Mother: Hmph. Still with that attitude. If it hadn't been for your father and I having sexual relations, then you'd never have been born, surely even you are smart enough to understand that.
T.K. cringes at the thought of his parents getting intimate. His mother notices this and smiles in delight as if she were happy to have offended her son inside of his own home.
T.K. Smiles: Ah, yes, and where is Father today?
Mother: He wasn't able to make it, I'm afraid. Good thing to. All this dust would have just clogged up his oxygen tubing and he'd have keeled over dead before even stepping over the threshold.
T.K. Smiles: If that were the case then you should have brought him!
Mother gives him a dangerous look, one that gives off the impression that she's ready to jump on him and rip out his throat for saying such a thing. Implying that he'd enjoy seeing his own father suffocate and die before his very eyes was something his mother could never even fathom a man would enjoy.
Mother: Don't imply such dark things, J-
T.K. Smiles: DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!
T.K. lost his cool, much to his mother's displeasure. This, however, only served to anger her more. Without fear, she quickly stepped up to her son and got right in his face as many people in his profession had done with their opponents over the course of time and she looked him directly in the eyes.
Mother: You dare raise your voice to your own mother? You aint so old that I can't bend you over my knee and administer a proper punishment now, so you better watch your mouth!
T.K. took a step back to create some distance between his mother and himself without ever breaking eye contact. He had begun to sweat, and the droplets that ran down his face had washed some of the face paint into his eyes which had now begun to water, giving off the impression that he was crying. Not wanting his mother to see what she may presume to be tears, he quickly turned around walked back into the shadows where his chair awaited. Once seated, he began to speak.
T.K. Smiles: Mother, my name is T.K. now. You nor father have any right to call me by any name but the one I wish. And quite frankly I've grown tired of this meeting. It was a blunder for Ricky to invite you over. I'll give you not even a penny of my money, now please see yourself out.
Mother: Look T.K. Your father is gravely ill and requires a heart transplant. We can't afford it on our salaries and since you make significantly more than us...I thought maybe you'd finally show some appreciation for all we've done for you...
T.K. scoff at the idea of lending his mother money for any reason, especially one which was obviously a ruse to extort her own son.
T.K. Smiles: Appreciation for what exactly, Mother? For all the broken bones? For the scars on my face? APPRECIATION FOR WHAT MOTHER?! FOR WHAT?!
Mother: Listen to me! Your fa-
T.K. Smiles: No Mother, YOU LISTEN TO ME! I've seen through your petty lies, your illusions will no longer trap me. Father is perfectly fine. You want money not for his health care but so you can recapture the days of your youth with alcohol and drugs. So that you can feel no shame for the way you treated me when I was just a boy, mother. I know how this song ends, I've seen it before...you will get no money from me. Now BEGONE!
Agitated and desperately trying to fight back her own tears, mother rushed out of the door and back to the taxi awaiting her in the road. T.K. stayed sitting in his chair, a huge smile forming over his face.
T.K. Smiles: RICKY!
The loud thumping of shoes hitting the wooden floor are heard as Ricky barges from the backroom into the living room and takes position in front of T.K.
Ricky Smiles: How can...I help you...Master?
T.K. Smiles: I'm sure you were listening into my conversation with Mother, so do me a kindness and follow her. Follow her all the way back to her house and check on Father for me. See if he's as she said...
Ricky nods silently as T.K. gestures for him to begin his task. Within seconds he is gone and T.K. is left alone in the shadows of his home, much to his enjoyment.
~~ ~~ ~~
Jayson Matthews. A man who can put up one hell of a fight, I'll give him that...if nothing else. But you know what? While it'll always go down in the record books as a draw, do you really believe in that outcome Jayson?
Do you?
Lemme explain something to you, pal. I'm an unknown quantity. You're somebody who at some point has already proven himself. Somehow that only God himself, if he existed, could understand you managed to finagle your way into the main event scene with a shot at that big glorious belt...
So how do you think it looked when you found yourself unable to defeat lil' ole me, Jayson?
Not good. Not Good at all.
But that's a matter for another time, for you see I have two sacrifices to offer up to my soul this week! Two unlucky wrestlers looking to do what I did last week and make a name for themselves, only to find themselves being used as nothing more than my playthings...a means to become happy...
Mike Phoenix. Heh. How cute you are in thinking your win last week was anything but handed to you. You were against a fake clown named Freakke and that incredibly incompetent Dominic Creed! Of course you were able to win...but...again that's a matter for another time. For now...you're up against somebody that poses a far greater threat to you than anybody else ever could.
You're up against me.
Just for a second let's take Wallace out of the equation. Bam. He's a non-factor. That leaves just us, the way it should be...the way it will be. You and I...much like Jayson and I last week, are going to go to war. Only this time I won't hold back. I'll press the little red button and launch the nuclear devices because as great as I think my debut went, it could have without a doubt gone better and now I must prove that I can follow up on that success with another showing, and a win.
But I must ask you something, Mike. I'm curious. Why chose the name Phoenix? Surely that can't be your real name. So then I ask you...why that name? Is it because you believe yourself to be a once in a lifetime talent? An athlete so incredibly powerful that you became a creature of legend? Of myth? No...it's because whenever you get defeated you raise from the ashes and come back even stronger, isn't it Mike?
Yes...that has to be it. That has to be the reason!
Then...I hope to see it. Once I destroy you, and I mean destroy you, I want to see you raise back up...bigger...stronger...more dangerous than ever.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND, MIKE?!
If somebody like you...somebody who had everything can be reduced to nothing and come back from it...why can't I? Why can't I be reborn into a better family, one that loves me...one that cares for me. You claimed your parents loved you...
WELL GO TO HELL MIKE, BECAUSE NOBODY EVER LOVED ME!
You see, Mike...we're quite different but I'm going to break you. I'm going to make you feel everything I felt growing up over the course of our match, I'm going to make you...experience...everything I've... experienced.
To put it simply...I'm going to make another me, out of you. I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes. I don't care if I have to slowly peel every ounce of skin off of your body and carve you like a thanksgiving turkey...I will make you feel the way I felt, Mike...
I want you...no...I want the whole world to understand how I feel, to know what it's like...to grow up unloved....unwanted. To grow up hated by everybody around, forced to hide in your room out of fear of cruel and increasingly unusual punishments. I'm sure you're aware of how I got these scars, aren't you Mike? As I told Jayson last week...I was forced to eat glass....but...but that's not all my parents did to me. Would you like to hear a story, Michael?
Once upon a time there was a little boy referred to only as The Kid. Two years had passed since he was forced to eat broken glass and his face was forever marked. Well, one day he came out of his room in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and in doing so accidentally woke up his father who had work the next morning.
Oh boy was he furious, Michael. Do you know what he did?
DO YOU?! DO YOU KNOW?!
No...you couldn't know...so let me finish the story. He grabbed that little boy by the arm as hard as he could, so hard that the red imprint of his fingers would stay there for several days, and he forced him back into his room. But that's not all he did....he pushed the boy back without letting go of his arm, causing it to stretch outwards so that it reached outside the doorway and....he slammed the heavy solid oak door as hard as he could onto the poor boy's arm, breaking it. Do you know who that little boy was, Michael?
IT WAS ME! MY OWN FATHER DID THAT TO ME! MY OWN FATHER BROKE MY ARM BECAUSE I HAD TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!
So Mikey, next time you want to brag about how loving your parents were, next time you want to talk down to somebody because their upbringing was less than stellar, think before you do...and don't.
All you've managed to do is make me angry, all you've done is get me allllllllll worked up and now...now I'm going to make you feel every emotion I've ever felt growing up and I'm going to break you. Hell, maybe if you turn out properly enough I'll even make you my new acolyte.
Now, let's bring Wallace back into the picture shall we? He's a man who leaves me quite...confused. One second he's licking a giant lollipop with his leg resting on his shoulder, and the next he's flat on his back while the referee counts to three. Less than impressive if I had to say...but truth be told I'm quite interested in him myself. He may be a little to...happy to make things work right now but once I break him in a bit he'd make for a fine acolyte.
So Wallace, a question for you...if you'd be so kind as to answer it...
Would you like to become my pawn?
WOULD YOU, WALLACE?!
You could achieve great things under my tutelage. Of course...you'd have to totally submit to me first and adopt the Smiles name much like Ricky has done for me...and that is no easy task.
Beatings. Torture. Starvation. Broken bones. Those are all things you will feel while training to become my acolyte. Physical and emotional trauma will be featured in abundance. These are necessary to break you of your free will, to prove your allegiance to me and allow me to make all your decisions for you so that you may achieve greater things. You see...Ricky was much stronger than you before I broke him in.
He was a bright young boy from Harvard aspiring to be a lawyer, but some things went wrong and he found himself desperate so he...he came to me for help. I don't recall what for, exactly, but it doesn't matter at this point. All that matters now is that our chance meeting ended up with Ricky being totally and utterly loyal to me. Being completely obedient with few exceptions. He doesn't even remember his former name, only his real name; Ricky Smiles.
So Wallace, I ask you again...will you adorn my flag and carry the name Smiles? Will you submit to me and become my loyal hound? I guess though...it doesn't really matter, does it? Once that bell rings...both you and Mr. Phoenix will end up on the receiving end of the training weither you like it or not...and while Phoenix may be going through it just because, you'll soon have to make a decision as to whether or not you'll join me...or refuse me. And trust me, Wallace, you don't want to refuse me. See you both very soon.
Remember; smile.
Well howdy there pardner.