Post by Chris King on Aug 28, 2016 19:37:36 GMT
“Show me someone who has done something worthwhile, and I'll show you someone who has overcome adversity.” ― Lou Holtz
Another week, another crazy ending.
You’d think, after 8 years in the business, I’d have seen everything there was to see. But as usual, I was wrong.
I won the Invictus Championship two weeks ago. I was counted champion, 1, 2, 3, in the center of the ring. The title belongs to me. But do I have it? No.
And who the fuck actually has it?
Noah Fucking Field.
Why, you may ask, does Noah Field have my Invictus Championship in his possession? Says he deserves it, on account of beating me twice. Feels like I have no right to it, even though I beat the actual champ, Zasshu, twice.
Does Noah have a gripe? Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not in charge of that shit. I can only handle how I respond to my own adversity, and I’ve got my share.
But if that High School Musical dropout and the Lucha Underground reject get in my way of my TRUE destiny?
God help ‘em.
Because nobody else will.
...That sounded super cliche, didn’t it?
Let me try it again.
Fuck Zasshu and his House of Howlett.
Fuck Noah Field and his Entourage.
I want my belt back.
Let’s go get it.
------------
LOCATION: King Household, Kalamazoo, MI
DATE/TIME: 23AUG16, 0717 Hours EDT
Sun’s up, and so am I.
I got in late, after appearing on Monday for Sacrifice. It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. Two weeks removed from my Invictus Championship victory, and I STILL don’t have my title belt in my possession. Instead, the puke who HELPED dethrone Zasshu, Noah Field, absconded with my championship belt.
So as I stared at my rapidly cooling plate of eggs and bacon, I seethed. I stewed.
And apparently, it showed.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Something on your mind, sire?
She only called me that when she didn’t think she could get through to me normally; it always seemed to snap me out of the darkness of self-doubt that became more prevalent with each passing moment I stayed in my head. If she played the ‘sire’ card, that meant I was pretty well self-absorbed in my own thoughts.
Damn.
Chris King: Ah, I’m still pretty pissed off about what happened this past week.
Lily sat down at the table next to me, in her customary flowing robe and little else. I really enjoyed the mornings with her, and I missed them when I was on the road. Skype is a beautiful thing, kids.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Okay, then let’s talk. You and me, just like the old days when I still held a microphone and you were honest.
Chris King: You want me to cut a promo?
Lily sighed, and smiled at me in that way you’d smile at a toddler who just said something stupid, but you don’t want to discourage them from talking. I hated that smile, but it let me see I said something dumb. Looking back on it, I probably should have asked what she meant first.
Lily Ravensdale-King: No, dear, I do not want you to ‘cut a promo’. I want you to be honest about what’s going on, just like you used to when we first met in the wrestling business. We’ll just talk, and see if we can’t get to the root of the issue you’re having. You remember how we did this two weeks ago, yeah?
Chris King: Yeah, you were offering me a prize for correct answers.
Lily Ravensdale-King: And you’d like that prize again, yes?
I nodded wordlessly, to help keep my tongue from lolling out of my head. God, the things she does to me with just an idea…
Lily Ravensdale-King: Well, it’s still early in the morning, but I imagine there’s something we could work out, sire… if you answer my questions.
That sent a pleasant shiver up my spine. Coupled with the almost nonchalant way she ran her fingers along the hem of her robe, dangerously close to the tan skin underneath, I almost forgot what I was angry about.
Almost.
Chris King: Alright, Miss Ravensdale, I’ll play your little game. And if I win?
She looked at me with a heat I recognized from our wedding day.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Whatever my king desires.
Chris King:Yeah?
She nodded.
Chris King: Anything?
Another nod, this time with an accompanying wink.
Chris King: Then what are we waiting for?
She smiled at me, and then it was as if a switch went off. She was all business as she stared at me from across the table.
Lily Ravensdale-King: How do we handle adversity in this house?
Chris King: Preparation.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Why do we prepare?
Chris King: If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail.
She shook her head.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Bullshit. You sound like a motivational poster. Do better. Why do we prepare?
Chris King: We prepare because…
Lily growled a little at me in frustration.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Don’t think about it! Just tell me.
Chris King: We prepare because, without it, success is no more than luck.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Good. Why do we prepare harder than anyone else?
Chris King: Tactical advantage.
Lily smiled.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Very good. What makes you the most dangerous man in professional wrestling?
Chris King: NOBODY outworks me.
Lily Ravensdale-King: And why’s that?
I was on a roll. Had to dial it back before I went full-on “promo mode” on her.
Chris King: Because it’s easy to take your gifts for granted, when you haven’t had to work for them. If you work for your successes, it means that much more.
My wife smiled again.
Lily Ravensdale-King: So what do you need to do?
Chris King: I need to get my ass off my shoulders and get to work.
She clapped in approval.
Lily Ravensdale-King: See? That wasn’t hard at all.
Chris King: Does this mean I’m going to have to take a raincheck on cashing in my prize?
Lily Ravensdale-King: You tell me.
I thought about it.
Chris King: I don’t HAVE to, but I should.
She nodded and smiled at me again.
Lily Ravensdale-King: And who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?
I got up from my seat, and she gave me a playful swat on the backside as I headed for the “film room”.
God, I love this woman.
Lily Ravensdale-King: You don’t want your meal to get cold… don’t take too long.
Chris King: I’m not worried about the bacon--
Lily Ravensdale-King: Not what I’m talking about.
I was puzzled for a second, and then I Got It.
Chris King: Ohhhhh… yeah, I’ll definitely make sure.
I hustled into the film room, trying like hell to concentrate on the task at hand.
We’ll see how well I did. Since you guys don’t need to.
------------
This is my least favorite part of all of this.
This is the part where I have to discuss the people I’m facing in our triple threat match at Heir to the Throne.
But I have a problem with that.
The problem is, neither person in this match is worth a second of my time. However, if I decide--again--to go a different route, the potential for me to be a two-week champion is even higher than normal.
So I think I’ll be democratic about it. Heads, Noah Field. Tails, Zasshu.
Give me a minute.
...Okay.
According to the quarter, Zasshu defers, and Noah will receive first.
Noah, I really am tired of wasting my breath on you. Your schtick hasn’t changed since I met you. You talk shit about who I am, where I came from, and what’s happened since we’ve crossed paths in IWF. Pretty standard, yeah? But as I said before, while unoriginal, your work is uninspiring. I’m not relinquishing shit. You want that title you stole? For real? Take it from me. Beat me, in the ring, and you can have it.
You like calling ME a hypocrite? You were the one who decided that I would record the pinfall. It was YOU who decided that I would be crowned Invictus Champion. If you didn’t want me involved in any of this, why didn’t you just STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY BUSINESS?!?
I’m sure you’re feeling like, “Chris King wouldn’t have won a thing without me.” And because of your dumbass actions, we’ll never know, will we? Instead, my title win has a taint on it that will only wash away after Saturday.
Can I finally put you back in your place--the back of the line--after Heir to the Throne? Yes. Will you be content to earn your way? Of course not. I don’t anticipate this being over after Saturday. I do, however, expect you to be unconscious at the end of this fight. And I’ll get MY title back.
HALFTIME! Zasshu gets the ball to start the next half.
Zasshu. Our former Invictus Champion. One proud fighter. For you?
I have nothing to say.
Why, you may ask, am I not interested in talking to you directly? Because your mouthpiece is the one getting you in the trouble you’re in, not you.
You’re a good guy, even if your taste in management sucks.
But for you, Laura Howlett, I’m going to take great pleasure in defeating the fifth-best member of your team of four. For you, I’m going to knock the shit out of your client and safely put him in my rearview mirror.
And won’t that be a bitch? Won’t it suck to know that your guy got beat as bad as he did because of you? Won’t it be just delightful to know that you cost Zasshu his Invictus Title not once, but twice???
It is cute, though, that your boy dislikes being called boring, when it’s your fault he’s so damn boring in the first place. If he didn’t have to keep his mouth shut and let you spew your mountains and mountains of bullshit, which will NEVER face any retribution from the people you speak to, then maybe the beatings he suffers wouldn’t be so bad.
But hey, you know the old saying: you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t tell him to represent himself for his own benefit.
See you on Saturday, boys.
And then, hopefully, never again.
Another week, another crazy ending.
You’d think, after 8 years in the business, I’d have seen everything there was to see. But as usual, I was wrong.
I won the Invictus Championship two weeks ago. I was counted champion, 1, 2, 3, in the center of the ring. The title belongs to me. But do I have it? No.
And who the fuck actually has it?
Noah Fucking Field.
Why, you may ask, does Noah Field have my Invictus Championship in his possession? Says he deserves it, on account of beating me twice. Feels like I have no right to it, even though I beat the actual champ, Zasshu, twice.
Does Noah have a gripe? Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not in charge of that shit. I can only handle how I respond to my own adversity, and I’ve got my share.
But if that High School Musical dropout and the Lucha Underground reject get in my way of my TRUE destiny?
God help ‘em.
Because nobody else will.
...That sounded super cliche, didn’t it?
Let me try it again.
Fuck Zasshu and his House of Howlett.
Fuck Noah Field and his Entourage.
I want my belt back.
Let’s go get it.
------------
LOCATION: King Household, Kalamazoo, MI
DATE/TIME: 23AUG16, 0717 Hours EDT
Sun’s up, and so am I.
I got in late, after appearing on Monday for Sacrifice. It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. Two weeks removed from my Invictus Championship victory, and I STILL don’t have my title belt in my possession. Instead, the puke who HELPED dethrone Zasshu, Noah Field, absconded with my championship belt.
So as I stared at my rapidly cooling plate of eggs and bacon, I seethed. I stewed.
And apparently, it showed.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Something on your mind, sire?
She only called me that when she didn’t think she could get through to me normally; it always seemed to snap me out of the darkness of self-doubt that became more prevalent with each passing moment I stayed in my head. If she played the ‘sire’ card, that meant I was pretty well self-absorbed in my own thoughts.
Damn.
Chris King: Ah, I’m still pretty pissed off about what happened this past week.
Lily sat down at the table next to me, in her customary flowing robe and little else. I really enjoyed the mornings with her, and I missed them when I was on the road. Skype is a beautiful thing, kids.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Okay, then let’s talk. You and me, just like the old days when I still held a microphone and you were honest.
Chris King: You want me to cut a promo?
Lily sighed, and smiled at me in that way you’d smile at a toddler who just said something stupid, but you don’t want to discourage them from talking. I hated that smile, but it let me see I said something dumb. Looking back on it, I probably should have asked what she meant first.
Lily Ravensdale-King: No, dear, I do not want you to ‘cut a promo’. I want you to be honest about what’s going on, just like you used to when we first met in the wrestling business. We’ll just talk, and see if we can’t get to the root of the issue you’re having. You remember how we did this two weeks ago, yeah?
Chris King: Yeah, you were offering me a prize for correct answers.
Lily Ravensdale-King: And you’d like that prize again, yes?
I nodded wordlessly, to help keep my tongue from lolling out of my head. God, the things she does to me with just an idea…
Lily Ravensdale-King: Well, it’s still early in the morning, but I imagine there’s something we could work out, sire… if you answer my questions.
That sent a pleasant shiver up my spine. Coupled with the almost nonchalant way she ran her fingers along the hem of her robe, dangerously close to the tan skin underneath, I almost forgot what I was angry about.
Almost.
Chris King: Alright, Miss Ravensdale, I’ll play your little game. And if I win?
She looked at me with a heat I recognized from our wedding day.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Whatever my king desires.
Chris King:Yeah?
She nodded.
Chris King: Anything?
Another nod, this time with an accompanying wink.
Chris King: Then what are we waiting for?
She smiled at me, and then it was as if a switch went off. She was all business as she stared at me from across the table.
Lily Ravensdale-King: How do we handle adversity in this house?
Chris King: Preparation.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Why do we prepare?
Chris King: If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail.
She shook her head.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Bullshit. You sound like a motivational poster. Do better. Why do we prepare?
Chris King: We prepare because…
Lily growled a little at me in frustration.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Don’t think about it! Just tell me.
Chris King: We prepare because, without it, success is no more than luck.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Good. Why do we prepare harder than anyone else?
Chris King: Tactical advantage.
Lily smiled.
Lily Ravensdale-King: Very good. What makes you the most dangerous man in professional wrestling?
Chris King: NOBODY outworks me.
Lily Ravensdale-King: And why’s that?
I was on a roll. Had to dial it back before I went full-on “promo mode” on her.
Chris King: Because it’s easy to take your gifts for granted, when you haven’t had to work for them. If you work for your successes, it means that much more.
My wife smiled again.
Lily Ravensdale-King: So what do you need to do?
Chris King: I need to get my ass off my shoulders and get to work.
She clapped in approval.
Lily Ravensdale-King: See? That wasn’t hard at all.
Chris King: Does this mean I’m going to have to take a raincheck on cashing in my prize?
Lily Ravensdale-King: You tell me.
I thought about it.
Chris King: I don’t HAVE to, but I should.
She nodded and smiled at me again.
Lily Ravensdale-King: And who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?
I got up from my seat, and she gave me a playful swat on the backside as I headed for the “film room”.
God, I love this woman.
Lily Ravensdale-King: You don’t want your meal to get cold… don’t take too long.
Chris King: I’m not worried about the bacon--
Lily Ravensdale-King: Not what I’m talking about.
I was puzzled for a second, and then I Got It.
Chris King: Ohhhhh… yeah, I’ll definitely make sure.
I hustled into the film room, trying like hell to concentrate on the task at hand.
We’ll see how well I did. Since you guys don’t need to.
------------
This is my least favorite part of all of this.
This is the part where I have to discuss the people I’m facing in our triple threat match at Heir to the Throne.
But I have a problem with that.
The problem is, neither person in this match is worth a second of my time. However, if I decide--again--to go a different route, the potential for me to be a two-week champion is even higher than normal.
So I think I’ll be democratic about it. Heads, Noah Field. Tails, Zasshu.
Give me a minute.
...Okay.
According to the quarter, Zasshu defers, and Noah will receive first.
Noah, I really am tired of wasting my breath on you. Your schtick hasn’t changed since I met you. You talk shit about who I am, where I came from, and what’s happened since we’ve crossed paths in IWF. Pretty standard, yeah? But as I said before, while unoriginal, your work is uninspiring. I’m not relinquishing shit. You want that title you stole? For real? Take it from me. Beat me, in the ring, and you can have it.
You like calling ME a hypocrite? You were the one who decided that I would record the pinfall. It was YOU who decided that I would be crowned Invictus Champion. If you didn’t want me involved in any of this, why didn’t you just STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY BUSINESS?!?
I’m sure you’re feeling like, “Chris King wouldn’t have won a thing without me.” And because of your dumbass actions, we’ll never know, will we? Instead, my title win has a taint on it that will only wash away after Saturday.
Can I finally put you back in your place--the back of the line--after Heir to the Throne? Yes. Will you be content to earn your way? Of course not. I don’t anticipate this being over after Saturday. I do, however, expect you to be unconscious at the end of this fight. And I’ll get MY title back.
HALFTIME! Zasshu gets the ball to start the next half.
Zasshu. Our former Invictus Champion. One proud fighter. For you?
I have nothing to say.
Why, you may ask, am I not interested in talking to you directly? Because your mouthpiece is the one getting you in the trouble you’re in, not you.
You’re a good guy, even if your taste in management sucks.
But for you, Laura Howlett, I’m going to take great pleasure in defeating the fifth-best member of your team of four. For you, I’m going to knock the shit out of your client and safely put him in my rearview mirror.
And won’t that be a bitch? Won’t it suck to know that your guy got beat as bad as he did because of you? Won’t it be just delightful to know that you cost Zasshu his Invictus Title not once, but twice???
It is cute, though, that your boy dislikes being called boring, when it’s your fault he’s so damn boring in the first place. If he didn’t have to keep his mouth shut and let you spew your mountains and mountains of bullshit, which will NEVER face any retribution from the people you speak to, then maybe the beatings he suffers wouldn’t be so bad.
But hey, you know the old saying: you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t tell him to represent himself for his own benefit.
See you on Saturday, boys.
And then, hopefully, never again.
Well howdy there pardner.