Portrait of Greatness [CE]
Jan 20, 2022 22:11:22 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer and bloodiedfox like this
Post by anthonycaffrey on Jan 20, 2022 22:11:22 GMT -5
”Jealousy, turning saints into the sea…"
It is a cold January evening in Philadelphia, with a terrible rain pouring down just outside the window. The FIRESIDE owner stares out, sipping on a glass containing something brown. His slight musicality fades into a short laugh as he moves away, turning to face the camera.
It was actually gonna be a nice little exhibition. You, trying to make a name for yourself at my expense, me, trying to make the X-Crown champion's #2 realize that he should put a little more respect on my name.
The way he says the word respect indicates that the usually smiling Caffrey won’t exactly be eagerly grinning anytime soon. He helps himself to more of his drink before continuing.
”That's not just you, though. I'm not getting the respect or adoration I really deserve, but that's not just you, or Misha. As I work towards manifesting that for myself in 2022, well, that's more on the... people who have beat me, lately, which now includes El Bang Hermanos. Credit where credit is due, they brought it, and well, MYOJIN didn't… and here we are.”
It is a.. weird perspective for Caffrey to have, especially as MYOJIN was the last wrestler standing for the Firestarters at Good Riddance, but the man keeps going.
”Then your boy ran his tongue, and you agreed to his questionable decision-making -- because if there's one thing we all know, it's that you're a well-meaning idiot. You're now trying to take ownership of Misha’s decisions -- which is something to be commended, but… but you're also talking shit, essentially waving a bright red cape in front of a man whose best moments have been powered by deterministic anger.”
Above a fireplace behind him, there is a large portrait. Caffrey is standing over AWF legend Chris Card, holding the AXW Undisputed Championship high. It may be an old memory, but he still stares longingly at it and has a sip of his beverage. He shakes his head.
"Again, a well-meaning idiot. And you called ME stupid.
With the mindset of doing the right thing, John -- do you mind if I call you that, John?"
There is no response. Caffrey assumes, even at the risk of doing so.
”With this mindset, I'm going to do you a favor. A kindness, even. You see, after I get done with you, the burden of expectation will be lifted from your shoulders. No longer will people say, ‘when's Johnny Five gonna break out? I think he could be a champion, when's he gonna turn on Misha and become a star on his own?' Oh, no, that ship will sail. You'll no longer have to live up to that or have to deal with any of the pesky responsibilities of having to be great in everyone's eyes on a constant basis.”
There is a tinge of regret in Caffrey’s voice, knowing how difficult that can be.
And hey, thank me when I'm done. When I’m finished, instead of asking if you’re the next big thing, people will instead ask, "hey, remember when Johnny Five talked a load of shit, had his ankle snapped by Caffrey, and he was unable to defend Misha, costing the company the X-Crown championship?"
He sips his beverage, knowing he’s shooting his company’s chances of retaining the Crown squarely in the foot.
”I remember!”
”What’s even your strategy, John? I am comedically taller than you! You’re 5’6”. I was 5’6” in fifth grade! I’ve got the wingspan to constantly keep you at arm’s distance -- and then wrap you up in these arms to choke you out or instantly lock you in a full nelson.”
He sighs.
”I know, though. I’ve scouted you. You’ll get me up and throw me around with a handful of suplexes, you’re good at that. You’ll plant me with that kickass spinebuster, you’re good at that. And then, you’ll drop me on my head -- you’re real, real good at that. And boy oh boy, I’m sure THAT will be enough, as if I didn’t survive Dylan Black’s violence boner a few months ago at End of Days.”
He visibly scoffs at mentioning Dylan.
”No, that’d be too simple, even for you… Misha alluded to your actual gameplan. It’s two steps. Step one…
He flips the finger, keeping it held for a few moments.
...is to hope and pray that I’m suddenly focused on fighting Constantine, so much so that I overlook you. Let’s take a moment and check in on that phase of your plan.
Caffrey sets down his drink to mime interviewing himself. He even does a Stanford impression.
”Mr. Caffrey, sir -- this match with Johnny Five, how much are you looking forward to potentially fighting Misha Constantine?”
He even shifts his whole body, returning to his normal voice.
”I’m not.”
”But sir, Misha Constantine is the X-Crown champion! You’d certainly love to become a two-time X-Crown champion!”
Caffrey shifts back, even taking the time to shake his head.
”If Constantine wants some, I expect him to be ringside for this. If he’d like to hobble into his X-Crown defense, I’ll be ready. And if he escapes that hell with the title…”
Caffrey looks up, pondering for a few moments. He is unwilling to answer his own question, scrapping the rest of the bit to return his attention to the camera. His tone has turned icy cold.
”Part two is to drop me on my head. Let me advise you… the moment I slip out of your grasp, you’re playing with fire. The moment you butcher a suplex, incompetently or purposely, you’re asking to get hurt. Despite everything you’ve said, I can take the moral high road and let you walk away. But the moment you really drop me, you leviathan dumbass… in that moment, you sign your own hospital bill.”
Caffrey makes the same signing motion Misha Constantine has done in the past, signing his contract to cash in to become X-Crown champion.
”Because even with that big victory over Kanyon, for all you’re good at, John… you’re going from someone who’s great. This ‘bitter old man’ has more tricks up his sleeve than you’ve ever learned. An elbow to the face, a stomp to the chest, two long arms and two hands wrapped around your ankle, and it’s over. And when you’re looking up at the lights come next Thursday, I want you to ask yourself one question.”
Caffrey mockingly looks up.
“Why am I such an idiot?”
Caffrey finishes his beverage as an old showman smile appears. His eyes have landed on the portrait of his glory as the camera fades.