Post by Smith Jones on Jun 27, 2013 16:55:53 GMT -5
Fade up on a shot of the Toronto skyline late one warm summer evening across the calm waters of Lake Ontario. The CN Tower is lit up and the city is alive with activity and vibrancy. The camera flies in over the water and moves through the busy downtown streets of Toronto. We find an old man in a light blue golf shirt carrying two cups of tea from the coffee shop at the base of a luxurious condominium. He gets into the elevator and presses twenty-nine. The old man hums to himself. The doors open and he walks to his condo, opening the door to hear Smith Jones mumbling to himself.
Smith: Totoya Tatsuya. Toyota Center. Totoya Tatsuya. Toyota Center. Totoya Tatsuya. Toyota Center.
He enters the room where Smith is sitting in the old man’s favourite recliner wearing a gray T-shirt that says '100%' on the front of it in black lettering with a large white 'X' overtop of the whole thing. The man hands Smith a peppermint tea while he chuckles.
Smith: Something funny?
Old Man: You’re always muttering something or other to yourself.
Smith: Leading up to and including Slamathon, Totoya Tatsuya was forced to endure endless jokes about how his name resembles that of a well-known motor vehicle conglomerate. Now I am booked to face Totoya Tatsuya an arena that bears that name. I like this kid, old man.
Old Man: Toyota….?
Smith becomes instantly very angry on Totoya’s behalf. He shoots a killer look at the old man who has taken a seat on the couch. Smith snarls.
Smith: Next Rapture, I will take on Totoya Tatsuya at the Toyota Center in Texas!!!!! A true tongue twister to be sure, but well worth the effort. I like the new attitude this guy has adopted. He took a good, long look at himself in the mirror and he realized one day that he was not being true to himself. I remember a Triple Threat Match at Battle Finale III where a developing superstar by the name of Hano Eiyu cut one of the most wildly experimental and interesting promos I’ve seen in a long time! In terms of creativity and taking chances, I put it right up there with Brytain Montgomery’s Slamathon promo, the height of originality and risk-taking for the chance to be known as the one who took that particular risk and succeeded. Like Nik Wallenda walking across The Grand Canyon! What a sight that was!! Or how about when Felix Baumgartner skydived from outer space last year? Amazing. There is an indescribable feeling that comes with taking some form of unique risk and succeeding. Tatsuya, you didn’t win the Broadcast Title that night, but I feel as though that was a great night for your career! It was the night that changed you forever. You became a different man after Battle Finale III. From what I saw of you at Slamathon, even though you again lost, you showed me that you are a man with a message. You have something to say and you are not afraid to say it. Hey, I get it!
Old Man: Smith, if you’re gonna make me sit here through another one of your rants, I’ve got better things to do.
Smith: Oh, really?? Better things? Like what, sitting alone in your apartment wondering why nobody ever fell in love and stayed in love with you? You gonna go open another bottle of wine and drink straight from the bottle until you pass out in front of a late night episode of Cheaters?? Please.
Old Man: You remind me so much of myself at your age. You’re pushing yourself too hard to recover. You should have taken this Rapture off.
Smith: I’m not you, old man! I know who I am!! I know what I can and cannot handle!!!
Old Man: Of course you do. You know everything! You’re on top of it all. You never miss a beat. You see everything coming a mile away and you field every ball. You’re unstoppable! You’re incredible! You’re Smith Jones!
Smith: I am Smith Jones!!!!!
Old Man: And what the fuck is that supposed to mean to anyone???!!?!!??!?
There is a long silence. Smith is suddenly hyper aware of the sting that still jolts through his perforated flesh from time to time. He feels the ache in the side of his neck, the bruises on his ribs, and the stiffness in his left knee. He feels the burns on his face and back, mild though they were. Perhaps only ghost pains at this point, but present on his mind in this moment. He shakes his head and the pain falls away.
Smith: I’m Smith Jones, old man. People who know what that means know it and people who don’t yet know will.
Old Man: Sure. You look to be in fine condition to go out there and prove it to them. Nightrain may not have killed you, but pride surely will. You should have taken the week off after the violent night you had at Slamathon IV. You would be well within your rights to do so.
Smith: I don’t take nights off. Not a single one since I signed my contract last October. When there is a Rapture or a PPV to work, I am there! Fuck you! I don’t have to explain myself to you!
Old Man: Fuck me then. I don’t know shit! Listen, Smith Jones. Never in your wildest dreams will you be as original and unique as people like Totoya Tatsuya and Brytain Montgomery. You may have the entire wrestling world fooled right now, but they will soon start to see through the thin veil you hide behind. You don’t think they can see how broken a person you are? They know, Smith Jones. And it’s only a matter of time before someone in that locker room figures out the right combination of moves to chop you down to the size you really are. You talk about The New Era like it’s taking over, but it's Team Lethality who are holding all the gold! You wanna be known as the most dangerous man in PCW, go out there and show people what happens to a guy who attacks you, blows fire in your face, drags your carcass up and ladder, and drops you through a flaming barbed wire table!!!! Do you know how many people out there want to see you fight for gold again??? The list is longer than you’d think. Will you finish what you started with the Broadcast Championship and take reign number two? Will you move on to uncharted territory and go Platinum? Will you leapfrog a bevy of deserving competitors and barge onto the World Title scene the way you keep hinting at? What was that thing with Brytain at Slamathon?
Smith: You have a lot of thoughts and feelings to share today, don’t you?
Old Man: I’m pissed at you Smith!!!
Smith: Join the club.
Old Man: You arrogant, cavalier, ignorant piece of putrid human trash!!! Why do you never listen to me?? I’m speaking from a place of wisdom and experience. You could stand to learn a thing or two about life from someone like me. I’m trying to help you!!!
Smith: How good of you, man. Does that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside to feel like you're helping your fellow man? Do you know how many of my fellow men I’ve helped in my lifetime??? And what did it ever get me to help those people out there?!?!? This world is full of leaches and liars who will do anything to get what they want. People will do ANYTHING to each other. The Washington Snipers. The movie theatre attack. The many school shootings and public rampages by regular people who decided that what they wanted was more important than anything or anyone else out there!
Old Man: I’ve had enough of your bullshit for one day. You can get the hell out of my apartment!!!
Smith shifts picks up his tea and prepares for the painful act of getting up off the couch. He resigns himself to the coming pain and stands up with a wince. He walks with a slight limp towards the door without looking at the old man. Jones exits. He grabs his keys from his pants pocket and opens apartment 2907. Home. The spacious condo is decorated in white, gray, silver, with accents of black and splashes of random colour here and there. There are bookshelves along one wall, paintings on another, a small white table here and an exotic flower arrangement there… a very open and basic decorating strategy with a massive window overlooking the city at one end of the room. Smith lumbers over to the white leather couch and slumps down with a grunt. He stares it the chilly tea in his hand in hopes of re-heating it with his eyes.
Smith: There are three things people have been asking me about when I see them in public lately. Number one is what was up with that exchange between me and Brytain Montgomery at Slamathon??? Number two is what’s going on between me and Mya Denton??! And number three is what are you gonna do to get back at SJ Funk?!?! Lemme start with Brytain Montgomery.
Jones sits straight up on the edge of his seat on the white leather couch. His intense eyes remain locked on the camera lens.
Smith: Bryte has done it! She’s won the PCW Broadcast Championship!!! Unfortunately for her, she can’t really celebrate it because her future hubby got himself damned near killed at Slamathon and spent a number of touch-and-go nights in hospital. I stayed in the same hospital and I saw the horrible effect it had on Brytain and Kai and Mya and Willow and Zee and the PCW fanbase. Even the executives sent cards and letters and I swear I saw one come out of his room once! When the face of PCW has a near death experience, it rocks the wrestling word! For the first couple of days, Bryte, you reminded me of the Zapruder Film right after Kennedy’s head shatters and poor Jackie is collecting fragments of his brain. What a tragic end to Slamathon for Syn and Brytain! What a sad day for us all, right??? Fuck that!!!! Syn is a glory hound and he is such an asshole that he has chosen to overshadow his fiancée’s big moment in the sun by throwing himself on the pitch like a whining soccer player!!!! I saw the beating you took at Slamathon, Syn. That was NOTHING! I went through a hell of a gimmick match and THEN got put through a flaming barbed wire table off a twenty-foot ladder, among other things!!!! I know the glory of winning that Broadcast Title and I blame nobody but you, Syn, for robbing Brytain Montgomery of her greatest accomplishment to date!!!! When I interrupted your celebration at Slamathon, Bryte, I was just doing my job. Hashtag, heel. You know the deal. And I wanted to let you know that I am watching you the way I will always be watching the Broadcast Champions. And fuck, I’ll admit it – I was thinking strongly about challenging you for the Broadcast Title!!! But…
He sets his tea down on the coffee table and leans back casually.
Smith: The whole reason I left that chapter of my life behind me was the fact that I didn’t respect many of the guys in that division. True story! And yet, since I’ve left, the effects I had when I was champ still remain – I made people realize that the Broadcast Championship is not just an entry level title; it’s an opportunity to make people see that you are WORTH SOMETHING in this biz! He or she who holds the Broadcast belt will be a force to be reckoned with in PCW. People know that now because of ME!! I take FULL credit for that!!! So now, as I look at the current champ, I wonder… can she do this? I don’t mean to sound insulting or condescending, but I’ve been champion before. I know how hard it can be. And with all the added pressure of Syn’s injury, I worry for Brytain’s future. More importantly, I worry about the future of the PCW Broadcast Championship! That’s why I’ve done something interesting…
Jones takes the time and energy to stand to his feet. His muscles ache, his bones creak, his cuts, bruises, and burns continue to persist in causing pain. He takes a deep breath.
Smith: Brytain Montgomery, I have gone to the executive office and I have exercised my rematch clause for the PCW Broadcast Championship!!!!!
He laughs to himself, a loud, long, ominous laugh that echoes throughout his condo. He then calms down and smiles warmly at the camera.
Smith: But don’t worry. Here's the thing -- I don’t plan on fighting you for it until you and I are both in top physical form. It’s like when a Prisoner of War gets nursed back to health before he’s tortured. I could have asked for a match with you for the coming Rapture or the one after, but instead, I am going to use my rematch clause not to fight you, but to protect you from any other challenger coming after you. I am officially next in line and nobody else can challenge you in the interim. So you don’t have to worry about people hitting you from behind. Why would they bother? Get well Brytain, and you too Syn. I hope the Kynnz household is feeling better by the day. You’re welcome for the peace of mind the Brytain Montgomery is safe in that locker room because of ME!
He sits back down and picks up his cold tea. He takes a sip and regrets it. He puts it back down and watches the ripples roll through it.
Smith: It was Mya that really got my mind to thinking. I could see in her how hard it was for you all to have almost lost Syn. It made me really look at Brytain and feel something I rarely feel: compassion. Not pity, mind you. I get that you would HATE pity. I just mean, I get that things suck right now. Things suck for me too, lately. Except for when I am with Mya Denton. Ever since we had that match a few Raptures ago, I’ve had a hard time shaking the thought of you from my head. You’re a fighter. You’re pretty sexy. You make the hours go by faster as I work my way back to ring shape for my match with Totoya Tatsuya.
He is becoming restless. He wants to pace around, but he’s been pushing himself to recover so much that he is totally exhausted. He thinks about getting up as his lips begin to move on their own.
Smith: Totoya. You were right when you said that the fans need easy reader notes. Clever approach. I would caution you, though, not to get lost in your own thoughts. You gotta spoon feed these motherfuckers every little morsel or the point will be missed. I get you, but I can see why the ignorant masses wouldn’t be able to follow along with their limited faculties. You seem like the kind of person who understands what it feels like to stand alone in a world that simply refuses to understand you. You speak your powerful truths as loud as you feel necessary to as many people as you can, but the dull masses don't have the intelligence to adequately process the gift you are trying to give them. And so, you stand by yourself most of the time, labelled as crazy by those too stupid to recognize your inner genius, surrounded by the very idiots who deem you insane. Judged by the unworthy. Persecuted by morons. There is, though, one major thing I have issue with where you’re concerned.
The camera zooms in very close.
Smith: You referred to professional wrestling as a combination of two things you hate: soap operas and reality television. Do you have any idea how great the season premiere Big Brother 15 was?!?!? Reality television is the chance to watch normal people try to force themselves to be something they’re not for the sake of the game. People pretend, they act, they keep secrets, they lie, they scheme, they cheat, they will do ANYTHING to get to the end of the game and win that half a million dollar prize!!!! I fucking LOVE Big Brother and I am stoked for this summer! As for soap operas… what a cheap diss that was, man. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve stood and listened to some pompous douche make jokes about how professional wrestling is just a soap opera??? The word fake always comes up in that conversation. Fuck those judgmental motherfucking douchebag losers!!!! First of all, wrestling is and always has been a collection of people. When you get a group of people together travelling to town after town, seeing the same fucking faces week in and week out, hearing the same lame jokes from the same uninteresting and inexplicably overconfident assholes in that locker room… when the grind of the routine starts to get to people, much like on a heated episode of Big Brother, drama happens! Call it a soap opera; call it a stage play; call it fake all you want, but from where I’m sitting all scraped up and damaged from my most recent match, the word fake is not the first ‘F’ word that springs to mind. Forgive me for sounding babyfacey when I say that I love this business more than anything else in the world. It has been there for me every single week without fail since I was ten years old. It’s the only thing that hasn’t packed up and left me. It will always remain as spectacular and entertaining as it has been and I will always love professional wrestling. If you just came to PCW to get face time for your agenda and to get your ill-prepared message across, then I am gonna kill you where you stand.
Jones gets up again, this time walking over to the balcony. He slides the door open and looks out over the city. Anyone seeing this view would understand why Smith is pushing so hard to have Battle Finale IV come to Toronto. The controlled rage within him starts to well up again. It’s a futile activity in his current state. He’s too banged up to do anything about anything right now. He swallows his rage, but it continues to burn him up from the inside.
Smith: As far as that unexpected, unwarranted, uncool attack by SJ Funk, I assure you that payback is coming for you. I am obviously in no physical condition to both work and match and to attack you this Rapture, so you get a bye on this one. But don’t get too comfy. You had to know the entire time you were buttoning up your army jacket and lacing up your army boots that all the shit you packed in your little army backback was gonna get you into the kind of trouble that you simply don’t walk out of alive. SJ Funk. You wanna attack me at random like a rogue gunman or an unstable bomber??? The end is near for you. The commando mission you started at the PPV is a suicide mission and I will be listed on your official posthumous documentation as the Cause of Death. Watch what I do to poor, unsuspecting Totoya Tatsuya and the Toyota Center in Texas on the coming Rapture! SJ Funk says 'I’m gonna get Funked up' because it’s cute; I say 'I’m gonna fuck you up' because it’s true. I’m admittedly not going to be at one hundred percent when I fight Tatsuya on the coming Rapture, so you can be sure that the ass-kicking I give this kid in just over a week will only be a fraction of the beating I lay down on SJ Funk and anyone else who gets in the way of what I want.
Fade to black.