"What The Fuck Kinda Gods Are You Three Supposed To Be?”
Feb 10, 2021 20:56:52 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Justin, and 2 more like this
Post by Joseph Mack on Feb 10, 2021 20:56:52 GMT -5
“A serious, respectful offer deserves a serious, respectful reply.”
The shot opens on Joseph Mack, sitting on the balcony of his apartment, beer in hand, dressed warmly for the cold night.
“Alright, to be fair it was a mostly respectful offer, but we’ll get to that. A genuine offer to join the Syndicate, one last time. What’s the old line, ‘insanity is repeating the same thing and expecting a different result’, something like that? I don’t think you’re crazy Dane, but I think you might as well stop beating your head against this wall. Answer’s still no, answer’s always gonna be no.”
Mack takes a long drink from the bottle in his hand before continuing.
“But here’s the respect, the respect is getting an explanation. It’s like this, Eric. Even if you and I were in complete agreement about how a man should conduct himself, even if you hadn’t been ready to take out my damn eye with a spike, even if you hadn’t proved over at SWAT that you care more about your one-in-thirty chance at glory than backing up your own damn protege in her match, all of that, the answer would still be no. Wouldn’t matter who asks the question, what group or faction or whatever, answer’s always gonna be no.”
“I don’t put in the work I do, the pain and the effort, to be secondary to anyone. Scott Steel, however it works between you and him, he seems alright with being your heater and nothing more and hey, if it works for him it works for him. Jesse Jamester, he’s riding your coattails til he sees the opportunity to take that belt off you for himself, I’m damn sure of it. Or I guess until you decide he’s more risk than reward and take him out yourself. Either way, you two are gonna do your thing and that’s fine.”
“But me? I ain’t playing young boy for anyone. It ain’t you Dane, not completely anyway. It’s me. Now, I get put in a match like this one we got coming up, I’ll watch my partner’s backs, no questions asked. But I’m not a joiner, I’m not looking for teammates or a squad or any of that. End of the day, a man needs to stand on his own two feet, and that’s what I intend to do.”
Another pause for a mouthful of crisp, cold lager.
“You keep saying all I got is a body, but do you still really believe that? I may not be the biggest, I may not be the fastest, I may not be the man of a thousand and five holds. But you know for yourself how it feels to be in the ring with me. You know what it’s like to take that R2 Driver, you know how it can put you down and out if I hit it. What was that line of yours? ‘Stand among Gods or be crushed with the insects’? I laid you out when we faced off, and that was after putting your boys on their asses. Yeah, you got outta there with the belt because I got ahead of myself, went for a pin when I should’ve put the beating on you a bit harder. But if an insect can do what I did last time we met up, then what the fuck kinda Gods are you three supposed to be?”
Mack finishes off his beer, sitting forward in his chair.
“Now, on to my tag partners. Timeless, glad you’re looking forward to teaming with me. Let’s be real, we both want that title shot, but I’m ready to keep it simple: if getting the W on the 16th means seeing you or Dominicus make that final pin or get that tap, I can live with that. I got all the faith in the world in my ability to make it to the title again. Hell, Dane’s still got two open challenges left that no one’s claimed, right? He said you can’t have one but he never said I can’t have two, not that I recall.”
Mack grins a little, shrugging his shoulders.
“And Dominicus… bring that magic glove of yours, put a cosmic pimp slap on them Syndicate boys with it. Let’s roll in there and make sure that, no matter who pins who, it’s us getting our arms raised and the Syndicate staring up at the lights, eh? Maybe none of the three of us can walk out with the belt on Tuesday night, but we can damn sure bloody their noses, slap them down, leave them face down in the snow wondering how the hell they’re gonna hold on to that belt going forward.”
Mack stands up from the chair, stretching.
“Alright, I’mma go watch the hockey game. See you all on the 16th.”
As the shot fades out, Mack turns to head back inside, musing aloud.
“Cosmic pimp slap… could be good on a t-shirt.”
The shot opens on Joseph Mack, sitting on the balcony of his apartment, beer in hand, dressed warmly for the cold night.
“Alright, to be fair it was a mostly respectful offer, but we’ll get to that. A genuine offer to join the Syndicate, one last time. What’s the old line, ‘insanity is repeating the same thing and expecting a different result’, something like that? I don’t think you’re crazy Dane, but I think you might as well stop beating your head against this wall. Answer’s still no, answer’s always gonna be no.”
Mack takes a long drink from the bottle in his hand before continuing.
“But here’s the respect, the respect is getting an explanation. It’s like this, Eric. Even if you and I were in complete agreement about how a man should conduct himself, even if you hadn’t been ready to take out my damn eye with a spike, even if you hadn’t proved over at SWAT that you care more about your one-in-thirty chance at glory than backing up your own damn protege in her match, all of that, the answer would still be no. Wouldn’t matter who asks the question, what group or faction or whatever, answer’s always gonna be no.”
“I don’t put in the work I do, the pain and the effort, to be secondary to anyone. Scott Steel, however it works between you and him, he seems alright with being your heater and nothing more and hey, if it works for him it works for him. Jesse Jamester, he’s riding your coattails til he sees the opportunity to take that belt off you for himself, I’m damn sure of it. Or I guess until you decide he’s more risk than reward and take him out yourself. Either way, you two are gonna do your thing and that’s fine.”
“But me? I ain’t playing young boy for anyone. It ain’t you Dane, not completely anyway. It’s me. Now, I get put in a match like this one we got coming up, I’ll watch my partner’s backs, no questions asked. But I’m not a joiner, I’m not looking for teammates or a squad or any of that. End of the day, a man needs to stand on his own two feet, and that’s what I intend to do.”
Another pause for a mouthful of crisp, cold lager.
“You keep saying all I got is a body, but do you still really believe that? I may not be the biggest, I may not be the fastest, I may not be the man of a thousand and five holds. But you know for yourself how it feels to be in the ring with me. You know what it’s like to take that R2 Driver, you know how it can put you down and out if I hit it. What was that line of yours? ‘Stand among Gods or be crushed with the insects’? I laid you out when we faced off, and that was after putting your boys on their asses. Yeah, you got outta there with the belt because I got ahead of myself, went for a pin when I should’ve put the beating on you a bit harder. But if an insect can do what I did last time we met up, then what the fuck kinda Gods are you three supposed to be?”
Mack finishes off his beer, sitting forward in his chair.
“Now, on to my tag partners. Timeless, glad you’re looking forward to teaming with me. Let’s be real, we both want that title shot, but I’m ready to keep it simple: if getting the W on the 16th means seeing you or Dominicus make that final pin or get that tap, I can live with that. I got all the faith in the world in my ability to make it to the title again. Hell, Dane’s still got two open challenges left that no one’s claimed, right? He said you can’t have one but he never said I can’t have two, not that I recall.”
Mack grins a little, shrugging his shoulders.
“And Dominicus… bring that magic glove of yours, put a cosmic pimp slap on them Syndicate boys with it. Let’s roll in there and make sure that, no matter who pins who, it’s us getting our arms raised and the Syndicate staring up at the lights, eh? Maybe none of the three of us can walk out with the belt on Tuesday night, but we can damn sure bloody their noses, slap them down, leave them face down in the snow wondering how the hell they’re gonna hold on to that belt going forward.”
Mack stands up from the chair, stretching.
“Alright, I’mma go watch the hockey game. See you all on the 16th.”
As the shot fades out, Mack turns to head back inside, musing aloud.
“Cosmic pimp slap… could be good on a t-shirt.”