The Things I Believe [Inferno /#17]
Mar 3, 2022 23:07:54 GMT -5
Dave D-Flipz, Dylan, and 2 more like this
Post by anthonycaffrey on Mar 3, 2022 23:07:54 GMT -5
The atmosphere in the press room is electric as it’s the first in-person announcement since FIRESIDE opened. The sounds of cameras going off begin to fill the room as the Father of FIRESIDE arrives on scene, dressed in a sharp black suit. He adjusts the microphone in front of him and sheds his mask.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time this morning. I know everyone wants to know, what is Anthony Caffrey’s big announcement? What could be so powerful to get us all off Zoom? What truly has the power has to change the fortune and future of FIRESIDE as we truly know it?”
The buzz only continues.
“Let’s waste no more time. I’m here to announce, TODAY, officially, I am now entering the 2021 XHF Rumble with the intention of bringing the X-Crown championship back to FIRESIDE!”
The flourish Caffrey gives indicates that he expected many more camera flashes and certainly more excitement. His smile dissipates as he realizes that he’s not going to get the love. His tone becomes immediately less jovial.
“What, you guys not awake? Not have enough coffee? You, you haven’t even started writing. I’m going to bring FIRESIDE back to the top of the industry and that’s not newsworthy?”
The reporter Caffrey has picked is short with big glasses. He clearly was not expecting to be called on.
“Sir, uh… we were expecting… uh…”
“What?”
“We were expecting… uh...”
Caffrey points at him and jokes to the room.
“Do we have someone who can finish a sentence for this guy?”
The silence is painful. No one’s going say the quiet parts out loud, no one wants Caffrey’s wrath.
“What’s your name?”
“Jeryl.”
“Daryl?”
“Jeryl.”
“What the fuck kind of name is Jeryl?”
“My mother and father…”
Caffrey waves his hand, indicating that his question was rhetorical.
“I can see in incompetent ass Daryl here--
Caffrey clearly heard the name correctly and is purposely doing this. The press cringe, obviously uncomfortable but not helping their colleague. They know they are antelopes speaking to the king of the jungle.
“--something it seems that most of you share. You don’t think I can win! You’re stuck in goody-two-shoes Caffrey. Get the fuck over him, he’s gone. That one had to sign paperwork preventing him from getting physical before the bank would sign off on loans, that one that quickly realized a cheap shortcut to getting pops and getting your wrestlers to make the airwaves was a few splinters.”
The factual manner in which he separates himself is alarming. For this being an in-person announcement with at least ten or fifteen people in the room, you could drop a pin in the room when he isn’t speaking.
“That Caffrey wouldn’t have won I agree. If you’re still using that Caffrey as an example, you’ll need to go back and do your homework. I am revitalized, I have reawakened with a powerful system of beliefs and drives that power me forward. I believe I will pull the company up with me. My belief system will guide me to win, my belief system is stronger than anyone who makes it a hashtag to draw in suckers.”
He makes a mocking hashtag. The silence is broken by a few reporters who can’t hide their discomfrort for Caffrey still celebrating the devastation of Cochrane.
“And you’ll see why the Brains of FIRESIDE, the Visionary, with The Strongest Mind in the Game, will win the Rumble… through my work in next Thursday’s Penalty Box Match. I look forward to reading about my dominant victory next Thursday and how it makes me the Rumble favorite. I’ll take questions.”
Caffrey reaches over to drink from his bottle of water. He audibly gulps.
“Questions?”
A few of the reporters have already slipped out. Caffrey sees this and makes a note to learn their names.
“Usually how this works is you ask questions about my competitors, and I talk about them.”
Caffrey rolls his eyes as the room still struggles to cooperate for fear of being picked apart.
“You, ask me about Vodka Fizz.”
“He’s the former SPARK Champion, do you like his chances?”
“The problem with Vodka, as most of you are well aware… he needs to either realize his potential or just be satisfied. Financially, it’s not great for us to put marketing dollars behind the ‘Heart of FIRESIDE’ only for him to get broken at every major opportunity, RE: Call to Arms, his first world title match, and End of Days. I’m impressed he didn’t choke again against Zepp.”
He’s calm and collected, as if this were a performance evaluation at a desk and he’s dealing with an employee.
“He’s the Heart, but he’s definitely not the ‘throat and esophagus’. He’s just not a… finisher. He needs to decide to be great or just be… good and nice.”
Well, minus the obvious hatred for the word ‘nice’.
“Good, talented, and nice is something every program could use. FIRESIDE needs solid midcarders for premiere stars like me to run over. And all that silly frivolous shit you wear, you help the bottom line! Ya sell t-shirts, ya hats! Children nag their parents to go see people like you. Even Nat’s kid’s love you! So you’re not the #1, whatever, kids need parents to buy them popcorn and tickets. It’s fine not to be show-leading material, Vodka.”
The way Caffrey says ‘show-leading’ has such snobbish energy.
“Everyone else has been world or X-Crown champion. There are so many stories, but everyone else has had the responsibility of being the #1 draw. You? I’m not sure ‘Vodka Fizz’ can handle that responsibility. Look at you; your drinking, your weird clown friends, for the longest time you called yourself the ‘Dumpster Fire’. And the more we’ve invested in you, the more I believe I’m burning my money to a crisp.”
He gestures for another reporter to ask a question.
“What about Misha?”
“Misha! Not a competitor I respected more until a few weeks ago. 2-time X-Crown champion, one of the greatest! He rose up! Rose up from shit circumstances and a tragic childhood, rose up from that shithole SWAT, he rose up to become our first world champion, he is part of the tapestry! He is the example of FIRESIDE’s success I use when I’m meeting with the bank; he is proof the garden bears fruit for anyone willing to commit to working its plots.”
Caffrey makes another garden reference as he address the camera.
“And then you had your guy injure me -- drop me on my head. Can’t say that flies, Misha. Managing this place from the hospital would be bad news. I’ve been having problems figuring out why you hate me so much, and I think it just extends out to everyone. I mean, you should be thanking me, because without me you’re some midcarder stuck fighting for acronyms, if you can even get TV time. I saw you, I found you! I’ve put you in positions to succeed. Hell, I’ve done nothing BUT the right thing for you, and in turn you treat me like this? It’s bullshit.”
Caffrey sighs, a businessman mad his special project is so unsatisfied. He stops clutching the podium.
“Truth be told, I think I’m just next in a very long line of hatred he’ll project onto others. He’s projected his self-loathing onto me, but it’s not my fault his suit of armor doesn’t protect him from himself.”
Caffrey picks up a pen again only to immediately fumble it.
“Whoops, I believe I pulled a Misha there. Who’s next?”
His smile is smug.
“What are you gonna do when MYOJIN kicks your ass?”
His smile quickly disappears. He looks over and gestures to a large guard, who already knows what the instruction will be as some of the crowd can’t hold back the urge to laugh at the outburst.
“OUT! GET HIM OUT!”
Caffrey has a hearty swig of water as the guard forcibly ejects the reporter. He struggles to regain his composure, immediately looking ahead, knowing his words will be MYOJIN’s ammo when he’s kicking his ass.
“MYOJIN, I believe my words will guide my other competitors to better themselves, but I don't believe that will happen for you. You're frustrating for the wrong reasons. You're a former XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion, the former X-Crown champion, and the way you’ve behaved, no one would guess you had that résumé. You’ve not only become bitter, you’ve become the person who pays money for dinner at a fancy restaurant, gets it overcooked, and instead of sending it back, you sit there and go ‘oh, it’s fine’. When Evan Valentine stabbed you -- which you still haven’t exacted even a single ounce of revenge on, despite bitching about it constantly -- and you began my bleed all over my ring, it’s clear to me that your guts also bled out.”
He makes a stabbing motion.
“You climbed into the ring to handle our situation -- not to throw down a challenge, not to demand a fight, but to whine and bitch. I had people asking me ‘what’s wrong with Myo?' And to be honest, I know quite a lot being the smartest person in this match, and I still don’t know what’s wrong with you! I tried to do the right thing!”
Caffrey falls back on the right thing.
“I believed in you! I tried to do the right thing and rescue you from this shit mindset, to make you a tag team champion, hell we would’ve even gone onto win the XHF tag team titles, and instead, instead I just got this weak motherfucker with a startling lack of ambition. I’m going to enter the XHF Rumble in April and reclaim the X-Crown I never truly lost. This Penalty Box match, winning FIRESIDE Wrestler of the Year, is the first step to fixing FIRESIDE, to making us #1 again. I have goals that I work towards and execute. Can you say the same?”
The anger in his voice is unrestrained.
“I’ll tell you and the roster right now: no one is getting a shot at me who doesn’t try. I don’t respect people who don’t give an effort. Even pathetic little Bucky Knight enters Rumbles and tries to become greatness. You’re gonna sit on your fucking couch at the end of the month. What does that say about you?”
He sighs, believing helping MYOJIN at this point may be hopeless.
“I didn’t even like the ugly ass purple belt but at least that MYOJIN could kick an ass or two! Who’s left?”
Caffrey rubs his hands over his face to try to regain his composure. It hits him that his own world champion has been that forgettable, even that Misha couldn’t even remember her name, but he manages to somewhat right the ship.
“Ah, Ms. Burrows! You’ve come a long way since I mistook you for someone’s wife. You’re a world champion, no one has figured you -- oh, wait. You fucked up my whole schedule, demanding you get into a match with your boy toy instead of fighting the warrior Rebecca Brookes who rightfully earned her shot at you at Good Riddance, and then immediately blew it. And now you’re mad at me because Adrien Cochrane did the wrong thing.”
The disdain he has for his former friend is heard every time he uses his name.
“You were the only world champ with the night off. He failed us, he failed all of FIRESIDE and our fans, but you also failed him by not being out there to help him do the right thing. And while I did retaliate in a somewhat unsavory fashion, you also could have run out then and restrained me. You could’ve saved him, where were you? Alas, fact is Adrien Cochrane is just the second person you couldn’t save.”
The joy Caffrey gets in twisting the knife on MAJESTY is displayed by his sinister smile.
“Natalie, you pride yourself on two things: in-ring competence -- which I will never argue against as that’s the reason I’ve thrown dollars and spotlight in your direction to make you -- and love. You managed to find love in that FREAK, you’ve seemingly found a new spark in Fizz, you found love in that man who left you, and now you have love in the form of your children. But let me tell you… the power of love is a curious thing, but it’s not the most powerful force out there, not even the most powerful force on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.”
Caffrey takes out his Android, rotating it so the press can see the graphic.
“This is something you learn when you start running a business, something I now believe in, and as you can see, love is only third. I cannot deprive you of food or water, but come next Thursday, I CAN deprive you of safety and security. I will challenge your beliefs and win. I will show you that self-preservation is more powerful than love. When I grab your ankle, your love of your friend, the fact that you’re pissed and want revenge at the man who made you a household name, that all won't matter. You’ll be suffering too badly to do anything other than tap.”
He authoritatively mouths “I made you”.
“You’ll tap or I’ll cripple you. And if/when I cripple you, even Choke Artist Vodka Fizz is skilled enough to take the world title off you. He already beat you at full health. If/when that happens, over the next month, you’ll gather up little Johnny, little Leah, and cute ol’ Dommy, and have two conversations with them: the first being why mommy is in a walking boot, and the second being why she no longer has the big ‘shiny’.”
The remaining reporters are even booing. Caffrey is wickedly determined.
“And I believe not having to embarrass yourself in front of your kids, not letting them see the destruction of their hero, is worth an ‘L’. I believe you’ll realize the risk is too great, I believe you’ll come to understand that I’m a man who will do ANYTHING to keep FIRESIDE up and running, a man who believes that he is the greatest chance for the company to continue to be successful. You’ve taken to calling yourself the Knight of FIRESIDE, which, great, we’ll starting printing t-shirts right away, but just remember, Ms. Burrows, as the other three will come to know when I break faces and ankles come next Thursday… something that I not only believe, but is a fact throughout history...”
A familiar look returns to Caffrey’s face.
"…knights serve Emperors.”
A series of camera flashes capture The Purple Emperor’s sinister smile as the camera fades to black.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time this morning. I know everyone wants to know, what is Anthony Caffrey’s big announcement? What could be so powerful to get us all off Zoom? What truly has the power has to change the fortune and future of FIRESIDE as we truly know it?”
The buzz only continues.
“Let’s waste no more time. I’m here to announce, TODAY, officially, I am now entering the 2021 XHF Rumble with the intention of bringing the X-Crown championship back to FIRESIDE!”
The flourish Caffrey gives indicates that he expected many more camera flashes and certainly more excitement. His smile dissipates as he realizes that he’s not going to get the love. His tone becomes immediately less jovial.
“What, you guys not awake? Not have enough coffee? You, you haven’t even started writing. I’m going to bring FIRESIDE back to the top of the industry and that’s not newsworthy?”
The reporter Caffrey has picked is short with big glasses. He clearly was not expecting to be called on.
“Sir, uh… we were expecting… uh…”
“What?”
“We were expecting… uh...”
Caffrey points at him and jokes to the room.
“Do we have someone who can finish a sentence for this guy?”
The silence is painful. No one’s going say the quiet parts out loud, no one wants Caffrey’s wrath.
“What’s your name?”
“Jeryl.”
“Daryl?”
“Jeryl.”
“What the fuck kind of name is Jeryl?”
“My mother and father…”
Caffrey waves his hand, indicating that his question was rhetorical.
“I can see in incompetent ass Daryl here--
Caffrey clearly heard the name correctly and is purposely doing this. The press cringe, obviously uncomfortable but not helping their colleague. They know they are antelopes speaking to the king of the jungle.
“--something it seems that most of you share. You don’t think I can win! You’re stuck in goody-two-shoes Caffrey. Get the fuck over him, he’s gone. That one had to sign paperwork preventing him from getting physical before the bank would sign off on loans, that one that quickly realized a cheap shortcut to getting pops and getting your wrestlers to make the airwaves was a few splinters.”
The factual manner in which he separates himself is alarming. For this being an in-person announcement with at least ten or fifteen people in the room, you could drop a pin in the room when he isn’t speaking.
“That Caffrey wouldn’t have won I agree. If you’re still using that Caffrey as an example, you’ll need to go back and do your homework. I am revitalized, I have reawakened with a powerful system of beliefs and drives that power me forward. I believe I will pull the company up with me. My belief system will guide me to win, my belief system is stronger than anyone who makes it a hashtag to draw in suckers.”
He makes a mocking hashtag. The silence is broken by a few reporters who can’t hide their discomfrort for Caffrey still celebrating the devastation of Cochrane.
“And you’ll see why the Brains of FIRESIDE, the Visionary, with The Strongest Mind in the Game, will win the Rumble… through my work in next Thursday’s Penalty Box Match. I look forward to reading about my dominant victory next Thursday and how it makes me the Rumble favorite. I’ll take questions.”
Caffrey reaches over to drink from his bottle of water. He audibly gulps.
“Questions?”
A few of the reporters have already slipped out. Caffrey sees this and makes a note to learn their names.
“Usually how this works is you ask questions about my competitors, and I talk about them.”
Caffrey rolls his eyes as the room still struggles to cooperate for fear of being picked apart.
“You, ask me about Vodka Fizz.”
“He’s the former SPARK Champion, do you like his chances?”
“The problem with Vodka, as most of you are well aware… he needs to either realize his potential or just be satisfied. Financially, it’s not great for us to put marketing dollars behind the ‘Heart of FIRESIDE’ only for him to get broken at every major opportunity, RE: Call to Arms, his first world title match, and End of Days. I’m impressed he didn’t choke again against Zepp.”
He’s calm and collected, as if this were a performance evaluation at a desk and he’s dealing with an employee.
“He’s the Heart, but he’s definitely not the ‘throat and esophagus’. He’s just not a… finisher. He needs to decide to be great or just be… good and nice.”
Well, minus the obvious hatred for the word ‘nice’.
“Good, talented, and nice is something every program could use. FIRESIDE needs solid midcarders for premiere stars like me to run over. And all that silly frivolous shit you wear, you help the bottom line! Ya sell t-shirts, ya hats! Children nag their parents to go see people like you. Even Nat’s kid’s love you! So you’re not the #1, whatever, kids need parents to buy them popcorn and tickets. It’s fine not to be show-leading material, Vodka.”
The way Caffrey says ‘show-leading’ has such snobbish energy.
“Everyone else has been world or X-Crown champion. There are so many stories, but everyone else has had the responsibility of being the #1 draw. You? I’m not sure ‘Vodka Fizz’ can handle that responsibility. Look at you; your drinking, your weird clown friends, for the longest time you called yourself the ‘Dumpster Fire’. And the more we’ve invested in you, the more I believe I’m burning my money to a crisp.”
He gestures for another reporter to ask a question.
“What about Misha?”
“Misha! Not a competitor I respected more until a few weeks ago. 2-time X-Crown champion, one of the greatest! He rose up! Rose up from shit circumstances and a tragic childhood, rose up from that shithole SWAT, he rose up to become our first world champion, he is part of the tapestry! He is the example of FIRESIDE’s success I use when I’m meeting with the bank; he is proof the garden bears fruit for anyone willing to commit to working its plots.”
Caffrey makes another garden reference as he address the camera.
“And then you had your guy injure me -- drop me on my head. Can’t say that flies, Misha. Managing this place from the hospital would be bad news. I’ve been having problems figuring out why you hate me so much, and I think it just extends out to everyone. I mean, you should be thanking me, because without me you’re some midcarder stuck fighting for acronyms, if you can even get TV time. I saw you, I found you! I’ve put you in positions to succeed. Hell, I’ve done nothing BUT the right thing for you, and in turn you treat me like this? It’s bullshit.”
Caffrey sighs, a businessman mad his special project is so unsatisfied. He stops clutching the podium.
“Truth be told, I think I’m just next in a very long line of hatred he’ll project onto others. He’s projected his self-loathing onto me, but it’s not my fault his suit of armor doesn’t protect him from himself.”
Caffrey picks up a pen again only to immediately fumble it.
“Whoops, I believe I pulled a Misha there. Who’s next?”
His smile is smug.
“What are you gonna do when MYOJIN kicks your ass?”
His smile quickly disappears. He looks over and gestures to a large guard, who already knows what the instruction will be as some of the crowd can’t hold back the urge to laugh at the outburst.
“OUT! GET HIM OUT!”
Caffrey has a hearty swig of water as the guard forcibly ejects the reporter. He struggles to regain his composure, immediately looking ahead, knowing his words will be MYOJIN’s ammo when he’s kicking his ass.
“MYOJIN, I believe my words will guide my other competitors to better themselves, but I don't believe that will happen for you. You're frustrating for the wrong reasons. You're a former XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion, the former X-Crown champion, and the way you’ve behaved, no one would guess you had that résumé. You’ve not only become bitter, you’ve become the person who pays money for dinner at a fancy restaurant, gets it overcooked, and instead of sending it back, you sit there and go ‘oh, it’s fine’. When Evan Valentine stabbed you -- which you still haven’t exacted even a single ounce of revenge on, despite bitching about it constantly -- and you began my bleed all over my ring, it’s clear to me that your guts also bled out.”
He makes a stabbing motion.
“You climbed into the ring to handle our situation -- not to throw down a challenge, not to demand a fight, but to whine and bitch. I had people asking me ‘what’s wrong with Myo?' And to be honest, I know quite a lot being the smartest person in this match, and I still don’t know what’s wrong with you! I tried to do the right thing!”
Caffrey falls back on the right thing.
“I believed in you! I tried to do the right thing and rescue you from this shit mindset, to make you a tag team champion, hell we would’ve even gone onto win the XHF tag team titles, and instead, instead I just got this weak motherfucker with a startling lack of ambition. I’m going to enter the XHF Rumble in April and reclaim the X-Crown I never truly lost. This Penalty Box match, winning FIRESIDE Wrestler of the Year, is the first step to fixing FIRESIDE, to making us #1 again. I have goals that I work towards and execute. Can you say the same?”
The anger in his voice is unrestrained.
“I’ll tell you and the roster right now: no one is getting a shot at me who doesn’t try. I don’t respect people who don’t give an effort. Even pathetic little Bucky Knight enters Rumbles and tries to become greatness. You’re gonna sit on your fucking couch at the end of the month. What does that say about you?”
He sighs, believing helping MYOJIN at this point may be hopeless.
“I didn’t even like the ugly ass purple belt but at least that MYOJIN could kick an ass or two! Who’s left?”
Caffrey rubs his hands over his face to try to regain his composure. It hits him that his own world champion has been that forgettable, even that Misha couldn’t even remember her name, but he manages to somewhat right the ship.
“Ah, Ms. Burrows! You’ve come a long way since I mistook you for someone’s wife. You’re a world champion, no one has figured you -- oh, wait. You fucked up my whole schedule, demanding you get into a match with your boy toy instead of fighting the warrior Rebecca Brookes who rightfully earned her shot at you at Good Riddance, and then immediately blew it. And now you’re mad at me because Adrien Cochrane did the wrong thing.”
The disdain he has for his former friend is heard every time he uses his name.
“You were the only world champ with the night off. He failed us, he failed all of FIRESIDE and our fans, but you also failed him by not being out there to help him do the right thing. And while I did retaliate in a somewhat unsavory fashion, you also could have run out then and restrained me. You could’ve saved him, where were you? Alas, fact is Adrien Cochrane is just the second person you couldn’t save.”
The joy Caffrey gets in twisting the knife on MAJESTY is displayed by his sinister smile.
“Natalie, you pride yourself on two things: in-ring competence -- which I will never argue against as that’s the reason I’ve thrown dollars and spotlight in your direction to make you -- and love. You managed to find love in that FREAK, you’ve seemingly found a new spark in Fizz, you found love in that man who left you, and now you have love in the form of your children. But let me tell you… the power of love is a curious thing, but it’s not the most powerful force out there, not even the most powerful force on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.”
Caffrey takes out his Android, rotating it so the press can see the graphic.
He authoritatively mouths “I made you”.
“You’ll tap or I’ll cripple you. And if/when I cripple you, even Choke Artist Vodka Fizz is skilled enough to take the world title off you. He already beat you at full health. If/when that happens, over the next month, you’ll gather up little Johnny, little Leah, and cute ol’ Dommy, and have two conversations with them: the first being why mommy is in a walking boot, and the second being why she no longer has the big ‘shiny’.”
The remaining reporters are even booing. Caffrey is wickedly determined.
“And I believe not having to embarrass yourself in front of your kids, not letting them see the destruction of their hero, is worth an ‘L’. I believe you’ll realize the risk is too great, I believe you’ll come to understand that I’m a man who will do ANYTHING to keep FIRESIDE up and running, a man who believes that he is the greatest chance for the company to continue to be successful. You’ve taken to calling yourself the Knight of FIRESIDE, which, great, we’ll starting printing t-shirts right away, but just remember, Ms. Burrows, as the other three will come to know when I break faces and ankles come next Thursday… something that I not only believe, but is a fact throughout history...”
A familiar look returns to Caffrey’s face.
"…knights serve Emperors.”
A series of camera flashes capture The Purple Emperor’s sinister smile as the camera fades to black.