Post by Jimbo on Jan 23, 2024 6:46:13 GMT -5
THE PUSHER
The screen is black as sound slowly fades in. Repeated grunts of exertion reply to the sound of iron plates clattering together.
The high definition footage slowly fades in and pans around a small studio gym. There is a row of dumbbells laid out in increasing weight along the far wall, and in the opposite corner is a bench press that is currently being used by the gym's singular patron.
As the camera pushes in, the man pushes to get in one final rep where he pushes the bar up and places it to rest upon the rack above him. The man, recognized by the tattoos covering his torso and arms, is a considerably slimmer and clean shaven James Sloane.
NOMAD grabs the towel from the floor and uses it to wipe the sweat away from his face. He sits on the edge of the bench press and begins to speak between deep, heavy breaths.
“I’ve been thinkin’... A lot lately… Reflecting… ya know?”
He runs his hands back over his short hair and shakes his head. He blinks his eyes a few times and calms his breathing.
“It’s funny lookin’ back."
"Lookin’ at your whole journey, the mistakes you made, lessons you learned. When I look back at my journey and how I got here, I think the turning point for me was when I was about eight years old. My father, who was already a violent alcoholic, worked on the shop floor at a timber mill. He came home early from an afternoon shift because he had been let go. Me and my mother got both barrels of his frustration and his anger. I learnt then I could really take a beating. I also learnt that it’s easier to beat someone who doesn’t move than it is to beat someone who does."
"I learnt that if I made my old man work for it, I could tire him out.”
Shadows from the windows above him cascade over him as he shifts and turns to face the camera face on.
“I started “wrestling” when I was about twelve years old. It wasn’t like the real thing though. There were no headlocks, no sharpshooters, no mat. Nah, it was either on the grass or in the dirt. I learnt that if I kept getting up, that if I took a bit more punishment than the next kid could, or that if I worked a bit harder than the next kid could, I could stand tall and take or do whatever I wanted to. If someone had something that I wanted, all I had to do was suffer more and work harder. It was like some great secret of the universe revealed itself to me. I took that lesson with me when I actually started wrestling. I carry it with me now to this day. If I want what someone has, I just gotta push myself a bit harder.”
“Aiden Merric.”
Under the shadows, he smirks. He smirks because he knows what is awaiting him.
“You wanna walk around like you’re some master of the lariat, but just remember that I tanked your shot, and left you layin’ flat on your face. If Thespian had his mask pulled on straight and been on the ball, you’d be singing a different tune about how that match in particular turned out. You can hold those tag team wins over me if you like, I don’t really care.”
He pushes himself right to the edge of the benchpress and leans over.
“The only victory I care about having is the one over you on the 28th at Supremacy.”
He leans back, relaxing his posture but not the expression on his face.
“Because you got somethin’ that I want. You’ve got the TAPOUT Openweight Championship. And there is nothin’ I want more in this world than to be the TAPOUT Openweight Champion and here’s why: When TAPOUT was only a twinkle in Cross Recoba’s eyes, he personally tracked me down and reached out to me about putting pen to paper and coming in. He told me his vision and explained to me what the company was about. A pro wrestling company that was about pro wrestling. A place where actions and results mean more than who says what or how loudly they say it. A perfect place for a guy like me.”
“Cause I don’t think of myself as much of a talker. I don’t talk, I do. Since day one, since the day that everyone thought I was being fed to Brad Kane to open the first TAPOUT show, I said I was gonna run through him and everyone else to be number one.”
“They weren’t empty words, they were promises. Ones that I kept. I did run through everybody. Killer after killer. Grinding myself against the stones. I held the number one spot in the company for the first four, probably five months of its existence. I just didn’t have a belt to prove it. Which is somethin’ that I’m aimin’ to correct at Supremacy.”
“See the reason why it means so much to me is because about this time last year I was havin’ serious doubts about whether or not I’d ever be in shape to wrestle again. I crawled through Hell to be back here and to be in this position. I can’t let you beat me on the twenty-eighth, Aiden. I can’t let it all be for nothing.”
He stands up, his lean and slightly muscular frame comes into full view.
“I’ve been working every day for the past four months, pushing myself harder than ever.”
He lets an unsual smile wash over him.
“I wasn't even in this good of a shape a decade ago. I’ve never felt better. I’ve never felt faster, fitter in my life. I’m not ready for a fight, I’m not ready for a wrestling match.”
“I’m ready for war.”
The smile takes on a grim twist before fading.
“I’m ready to spill blood. I’m ready to die if need be. I've never been more ready in my entire life.”
“So, you go and you sit down with your little girlfriend, Aiden. You ask her for any advice she has. Since she has the personal one-on-one experience with me after all. You let her break the news to you that you ain't gonna beat me, Aiden. You know what you gotta do? You gotta kill me. But a knife ain’t gonna do it, it’s gonna take somethin’ a bit more substantial than that. If you wanna know what I think…”
“I think that you don’t have the GUTS!”
“I think Cross and his cute little narrative that you and I are alike is really funny. I mean, we are both gritty, hard hitters who love a good fight. But beyond that I can’t see you as anything but a walking, talking stereotype. Cause like I’ve said before, I get playing it up for an American audience. Paul Hogan had great success doing it.”
“I have a hard time taking you seriously with your dumb little hat and you tossing around Australian slang in every sentence to remind everyone that you are Australian. Plus I’m nearly ninety-nine percent positive that no Australian has used half of those words since Paul Hogan was playing it up on a movie screen.”
“That’s just what I think of you personally.”
He shoves his hand at the frame with his index and thumb held just barely apart.
“But anyone on any given night has a chance. There is always a chance. Miracles do happen. That is what it’s gonna take for you. So I’d start prayin’ for one before you go askin’ your lover for advice.”
Smirking, he lets his arm drop back to his side.
“You wanna know what I think of you professionally?”
“I may not respect you as a man, Aiden, but I do respect your abilities in the ring. You don’t reach the top level in this company without being able to get the job done. I’ll even give you credit for handlin’ Poe better than I did. So don’t get it twisted, I know that if I’m not careful you can, and will, flatline me. But if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t be going to your little girlfriend for advice. She can’t help ya. I know that I can’t let you treat this like a “hunt”. But I think you know that too. Do I think you’re dumb? Yeah. But not dumb enough to play with your food in this case.”
“Just like when I was a kid, I’ll be lookin’ across at someone who has somethin’ I want. It’s all about pushin’ further than you and workin’ harder than you to take it. I’ve worked my ass off to get back to where I was, I pushed myself to get in shape and train harder than I ever have.”
“All that’s left is to take.”
NOMAD steps forward, his expression remains stern and confident.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do and there ain't a damn thing you can do about it.”
His words echo slightly in the room as the video cuts to black.
The screen is black as sound slowly fades in. Repeated grunts of exertion reply to the sound of iron plates clattering together.
The high definition footage slowly fades in and pans around a small studio gym. There is a row of dumbbells laid out in increasing weight along the far wall, and in the opposite corner is a bench press that is currently being used by the gym's singular patron.
As the camera pushes in, the man pushes to get in one final rep where he pushes the bar up and places it to rest upon the rack above him. The man, recognized by the tattoos covering his torso and arms, is a considerably slimmer and clean shaven James Sloane.
NOMAD grabs the towel from the floor and uses it to wipe the sweat away from his face. He sits on the edge of the bench press and begins to speak between deep, heavy breaths.
“I’ve been thinkin’... A lot lately… Reflecting… ya know?”
He runs his hands back over his short hair and shakes his head. He blinks his eyes a few times and calms his breathing.
“It’s funny lookin’ back."
"Lookin’ at your whole journey, the mistakes you made, lessons you learned. When I look back at my journey and how I got here, I think the turning point for me was when I was about eight years old. My father, who was already a violent alcoholic, worked on the shop floor at a timber mill. He came home early from an afternoon shift because he had been let go. Me and my mother got both barrels of his frustration and his anger. I learnt then I could really take a beating. I also learnt that it’s easier to beat someone who doesn’t move than it is to beat someone who does."
"I learnt that if I made my old man work for it, I could tire him out.”
Shadows from the windows above him cascade over him as he shifts and turns to face the camera face on.
“I started “wrestling” when I was about twelve years old. It wasn’t like the real thing though. There were no headlocks, no sharpshooters, no mat. Nah, it was either on the grass or in the dirt. I learnt that if I kept getting up, that if I took a bit more punishment than the next kid could, or that if I worked a bit harder than the next kid could, I could stand tall and take or do whatever I wanted to. If someone had something that I wanted, all I had to do was suffer more and work harder. It was like some great secret of the universe revealed itself to me. I took that lesson with me when I actually started wrestling. I carry it with me now to this day. If I want what someone has, I just gotta push myself a bit harder.”
“Aiden Merric.”
Under the shadows, he smirks. He smirks because he knows what is awaiting him.
“You wanna walk around like you’re some master of the lariat, but just remember that I tanked your shot, and left you layin’ flat on your face. If Thespian had his mask pulled on straight and been on the ball, you’d be singing a different tune about how that match in particular turned out. You can hold those tag team wins over me if you like, I don’t really care.”
He pushes himself right to the edge of the benchpress and leans over.
“The only victory I care about having is the one over you on the 28th at Supremacy.”
He leans back, relaxing his posture but not the expression on his face.
“Because you got somethin’ that I want. You’ve got the TAPOUT Openweight Championship. And there is nothin’ I want more in this world than to be the TAPOUT Openweight Champion and here’s why: When TAPOUT was only a twinkle in Cross Recoba’s eyes, he personally tracked me down and reached out to me about putting pen to paper and coming in. He told me his vision and explained to me what the company was about. A pro wrestling company that was about pro wrestling. A place where actions and results mean more than who says what or how loudly they say it. A perfect place for a guy like me.”
“Cause I don’t think of myself as much of a talker. I don’t talk, I do. Since day one, since the day that everyone thought I was being fed to Brad Kane to open the first TAPOUT show, I said I was gonna run through him and everyone else to be number one.”
“They weren’t empty words, they were promises. Ones that I kept. I did run through everybody. Killer after killer. Grinding myself against the stones. I held the number one spot in the company for the first four, probably five months of its existence. I just didn’t have a belt to prove it. Which is somethin’ that I’m aimin’ to correct at Supremacy.”
“See the reason why it means so much to me is because about this time last year I was havin’ serious doubts about whether or not I’d ever be in shape to wrestle again. I crawled through Hell to be back here and to be in this position. I can’t let you beat me on the twenty-eighth, Aiden. I can’t let it all be for nothing.”
He stands up, his lean and slightly muscular frame comes into full view.
“I’ve been working every day for the past four months, pushing myself harder than ever.”
He lets an unsual smile wash over him.
“I wasn't even in this good of a shape a decade ago. I’ve never felt better. I’ve never felt faster, fitter in my life. I’m not ready for a fight, I’m not ready for a wrestling match.”
“I’m ready for war.”
The smile takes on a grim twist before fading.
“I’m ready to spill blood. I’m ready to die if need be. I've never been more ready in my entire life.”
“So, you go and you sit down with your little girlfriend, Aiden. You ask her for any advice she has. Since she has the personal one-on-one experience with me after all. You let her break the news to you that you ain't gonna beat me, Aiden. You know what you gotta do? You gotta kill me. But a knife ain’t gonna do it, it’s gonna take somethin’ a bit more substantial than that. If you wanna know what I think…”
“I think that you don’t have the GUTS!”
“I think Cross and his cute little narrative that you and I are alike is really funny. I mean, we are both gritty, hard hitters who love a good fight. But beyond that I can’t see you as anything but a walking, talking stereotype. Cause like I’ve said before, I get playing it up for an American audience. Paul Hogan had great success doing it.”
“I have a hard time taking you seriously with your dumb little hat and you tossing around Australian slang in every sentence to remind everyone that you are Australian. Plus I’m nearly ninety-nine percent positive that no Australian has used half of those words since Paul Hogan was playing it up on a movie screen.”
“That’s just what I think of you personally.”
He shoves his hand at the frame with his index and thumb held just barely apart.
“But anyone on any given night has a chance. There is always a chance. Miracles do happen. That is what it’s gonna take for you. So I’d start prayin’ for one before you go askin’ your lover for advice.”
Smirking, he lets his arm drop back to his side.
“You wanna know what I think of you professionally?”
“I may not respect you as a man, Aiden, but I do respect your abilities in the ring. You don’t reach the top level in this company without being able to get the job done. I’ll even give you credit for handlin’ Poe better than I did. So don’t get it twisted, I know that if I’m not careful you can, and will, flatline me. But if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t be going to your little girlfriend for advice. She can’t help ya. I know that I can’t let you treat this like a “hunt”. But I think you know that too. Do I think you’re dumb? Yeah. But not dumb enough to play with your food in this case.”
“Just like when I was a kid, I’ll be lookin’ across at someone who has somethin’ I want. It’s all about pushin’ further than you and workin’ harder than you to take it. I’ve worked my ass off to get back to where I was, I pushed myself to get in shape and train harder than I ever have.”
“All that’s left is to take.”
NOMAD steps forward, his expression remains stern and confident.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do and there ain't a damn thing you can do about it.”
His words echo slightly in the room as the video cuts to black.