[Showcase/ASW] Purpose.
Jun 5, 2017 17:09:42 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 1 more like this
Post by Doc on Jun 5, 2017 17:09:42 GMT -5
Alone in the dingy basement we now know to be Doc's home, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, and clicks the “Read Message” button, noticing it’s from his sister, Tara:
Doc re-reads the message again, feeling like he is missing something. 60/40 split in his favour? But - that sneaky fat fu-
Just then, a new e-mail notification pops up on his phone:
Sincere? Mongo?
If anything was able to bring a smile to Doc's face these days, that would probably be it. He puts the phone back in his pocket, and takes a deep breath. If it all seemed surreal two days ago, it's finally starting to hit home.
He doesn’t need that broken alarm clock to tell him what time it is.
It’s time for war.
Whether he’s ready or not.
Respect, MGK?
That’s what this is about to you? Respect?
Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, buddy. But if you think I could give a rat’s ass about whether you respect me, you need to put away the ‘herbal cigarettes’ and stop killing your brain cells watching all those Hollywood movies you love to ramble on about.
It's true - there was a time I did respect you, not that I would have admitted it. There was a time when this really was about the challenge of stepping in to the ring against ‘The Undisputed Icon’, just to find out who the better man was.
And I can assure you - that was a long, long, time ago.
You see MGK, there’s this funny thing about respect. And it’s really strange how this happens.. I can’t quite put my finger on why..
But it’s something you tend to, you know.. lose a little, when you attack someone’s sister and cause them to have a miscarriage. Know what I'm saying?
But don’t worry, you are right about one thing. We’re both similar beasts in many ways, not least the competitive edge that meant we were willing to do just about anything to make sure we were at the pinnacle of this industry. But here’s the difference between us, MGK. When your competitive streak fizzles out, you somehow seem to forget the trail of destruction that you’ve left behind in people’s lives. You come in, tear apart families, ruin guys' careers.. and then you have a ten-year hiatus and come on air remembering the ‘good ole days’, like it was just a couple of school kids wrestling over a candy bar.
Well I got news for you pal.
You can shove your respect up your ass.
I don’t respect you, I don’t like you, and I sure as hell don’t trust you. So whether you’re trying to play some kind of game to make me forget for one second the lengths you’ll go to this Sunday to put me in a wheelchair for the rest of my existence, or whether you’ve just been pretending to be some kind of ‘nice guy’ all these years rest a little easier on your pillow at night – go right ahead.
But when you get a second to reflect, sitting there in your city centre apartment - ask yourself one thing.
Why you still alone buddy? Ask yourself why - despite your money, your fame, your talent..
Carli packed her bags and left you to rot like the slimeball you are.
The difference between us Mike is that I know I’m an asshole. I’m that school bully who'll take your money at lunch time, then make you sniff your sister’s crotch off my fingers. I’m that snake in the grass who’ll wait ‘till you drift asleep, then wrap myself around your neck and watch while you suffocate on your own vomit. And above all.. I’m that sad, twisted old man, who’ll wait patiently in some basement in Detroit for ten long years to do what I've wished every day since that I'd done when I had the chance.
And put an end to the Undisputed Icon, once and for all.
So tell the world whatever you want, old friend. I haven’t forgotten who you are. Not one bit.
And if you want that victory over me that's been keeping you up at night?
You're going to have to beat me 'till there isn't a single breath worth gasping for in this tired old body.
So see you Sunday, Mike.
Don't think I wont be ready.
He shaves the few remaining hairs from his face, and looks in the mirror. For just a second, with his face clean and a glint in his eye, he reminds himself of someone. Someone much younger, much fitter. Someone he hasn't seen in a long time. A man who rose to the challenge, whoever who was put in his way. A man who just didn't know how to stay down, no matter how badly the odds were stacked against him.
He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, breaking the breif moment of introspection. He quickly washes away the remaining foam from his face and takes a look at the message. Again, from Tara:
His eyes widen, and he almost drops the phone in to the sink. Last Man Standing? Like hell was that what he had agreed with Mongo..
He takes a deep breath, and looks in to the mirror once again. For years, he'd been living in poverty, struggling to find a reason to get out of bed in the morning, let alone keeping himself in shape to wrestle. And now he's suddenly supposed dive head-first in to one of the most gruelling matches in professional wrestling?
He pulls his shoulder blades together and feels the burn of the lactic acid in his muscles from the gym in a way that he hasn't felt since he first started in this business.
There is silence, as he continues to stare, motionless, into the mirror.
Then, suddenly, for the first time since we first saw him three days ago, a smile comes over Doc's face.
And he remembers what he was put on this earth to do.
Hey Doc! Great to hear that you got the match made! I actually hadn’t realized it, but William has the same lawyer as MGK, and he just heard that you managed to secure a 60/40 split of the profits. Great!! Keep training hard, we are so proud of you!! Big hugs, T xoxox’
Doc re-reads the message again, feeling like he is missing something. 60/40 split in his favour? But - that sneaky fat fu-
Just then, a new e-mail notification pops up on his phone:
From: Mongo the Destroyer
To: Doc; MGK
CC: Spector
Hello Gentlemen!
Thank you all for your patience during these negotiations and eagerness to get the match made. I am sure the whole world is looking forward to this fight!
On that note, as you both know, as the proud owner of the XHF Network, it is my job to ensure these top-level matches find the best possible host federation. In this case, it just so happens that the best possible federation also happened to be the highest bidder!
So gentlemen – please find attached the contract for the match with ASW; have your lawyers look over, sign, and return to Spector as soon as possible.
Oh, or if your Doc and can’t afford a lawyer, you can just sign it yourself.
Best of luck gentlemen, and as always, take things to the Xtreme!!!
Yours Sincerely,
Mongo the Destroyer
Owner @ The XHF Network
To: Doc; MGK
CC: Spector
Hello Gentlemen!
Thank you all for your patience during these negotiations and eagerness to get the match made. I am sure the whole world is looking forward to this fight!
On that note, as you both know, as the proud owner of the XHF Network, it is my job to ensure these top-level matches find the best possible host federation. In this case, it just so happens that the best possible federation also happened to be the highest bidder!
So gentlemen – please find attached the contract for the match with ASW; have your lawyers look over, sign, and return to Spector as soon as possible.
Oh, or if your Doc and can’t afford a lawyer, you can just sign it yourself.
Best of luck gentlemen, and as always, take things to the Xtreme!!!
Yours Sincerely,
Mongo the Destroyer
Owner @ The XHF Network
Sincere? Mongo?
If anything was able to bring a smile to Doc's face these days, that would probably be it. He puts the phone back in his pocket, and takes a deep breath. If it all seemed surreal two days ago, it's finally starting to hit home.
He doesn’t need that broken alarm clock to tell him what time it is.
It’s time for war.
Whether he’s ready or not.
Respect, MGK?
That’s what this is about to you? Respect?
Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, buddy. But if you think I could give a rat’s ass about whether you respect me, you need to put away the ‘herbal cigarettes’ and stop killing your brain cells watching all those Hollywood movies you love to ramble on about.
It's true - there was a time I did respect you, not that I would have admitted it. There was a time when this really was about the challenge of stepping in to the ring against ‘The Undisputed Icon’, just to find out who the better man was.
And I can assure you - that was a long, long, time ago.
You see MGK, there’s this funny thing about respect. And it’s really strange how this happens.. I can’t quite put my finger on why..
But it’s something you tend to, you know.. lose a little, when you attack someone’s sister and cause them to have a miscarriage. Know what I'm saying?
But don’t worry, you are right about one thing. We’re both similar beasts in many ways, not least the competitive edge that meant we were willing to do just about anything to make sure we were at the pinnacle of this industry. But here’s the difference between us, MGK. When your competitive streak fizzles out, you somehow seem to forget the trail of destruction that you’ve left behind in people’s lives. You come in, tear apart families, ruin guys' careers.. and then you have a ten-year hiatus and come on air remembering the ‘good ole days’, like it was just a couple of school kids wrestling over a candy bar.
Well I got news for you pal.
You can shove your respect up your ass.
I don’t respect you, I don’t like you, and I sure as hell don’t trust you. So whether you’re trying to play some kind of game to make me forget for one second the lengths you’ll go to this Sunday to put me in a wheelchair for the rest of my existence, or whether you’ve just been pretending to be some kind of ‘nice guy’ all these years rest a little easier on your pillow at night – go right ahead.
But when you get a second to reflect, sitting there in your city centre apartment - ask yourself one thing.
Why you still alone buddy? Ask yourself why - despite your money, your fame, your talent..
Carli packed her bags and left you to rot like the slimeball you are.
The difference between us Mike is that I know I’m an asshole. I’m that school bully who'll take your money at lunch time, then make you sniff your sister’s crotch off my fingers. I’m that snake in the grass who’ll wait ‘till you drift asleep, then wrap myself around your neck and watch while you suffocate on your own vomit. And above all.. I’m that sad, twisted old man, who’ll wait patiently in some basement in Detroit for ten long years to do what I've wished every day since that I'd done when I had the chance.
And put an end to the Undisputed Icon, once and for all.
So tell the world whatever you want, old friend. I haven’t forgotten who you are. Not one bit.
And if you want that victory over me that's been keeping you up at night?
You're going to have to beat me 'till there isn't a single breath worth gasping for in this tired old body.
So see you Sunday, Mike.
Don't think I wont be ready.
He shaves the few remaining hairs from his face, and looks in the mirror. For just a second, with his face clean and a glint in his eye, he reminds himself of someone. Someone much younger, much fitter. Someone he hasn't seen in a long time. A man who rose to the challenge, whoever who was put in his way. A man who just didn't know how to stay down, no matter how badly the odds were stacked against him.
He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, breaking the breif moment of introspection. He quickly washes away the remaining foam from his face and takes a look at the message. Again, from Tara:
Doc?! What the hell have you done??? Last man standing, are you crazy??? Please don't do this..
His eyes widen, and he almost drops the phone in to the sink. Last Man Standing? Like hell was that what he had agreed with Mongo..
He takes a deep breath, and looks in to the mirror once again. For years, he'd been living in poverty, struggling to find a reason to get out of bed in the morning, let alone keeping himself in shape to wrestle. And now he's suddenly supposed dive head-first in to one of the most gruelling matches in professional wrestling?
He pulls his shoulder blades together and feels the burn of the lactic acid in his muscles from the gym in a way that he hasn't felt since he first started in this business.
There is silence, as he continues to stare, motionless, into the mirror.
Then, suddenly, for the first time since we first saw him three days ago, a smile comes over Doc's face.
And he remembers what he was put on this earth to do.
