Post by Teo Blaze on Aug 4, 2019 21:56:56 GMT -5
Teo Blaze: Son of a whore!
The sound is punctuated by what sounds like a shopping cart being thrown down a hallway. As the scene slowly fades into view from darkness, a pair of individuals can be seen walking down a corridor in a run-down hotel. On the right is the now-very recognizable Teo Blaze, his face contorted into such an expression of rage that it would not be surprising for smoke to be coming out from behind the lenses of his dark red glasses. Following closely, a few steps behind, is the same production assistant that only a few weeks prior Action Wrestling had assigned to accompany and...keep an eye on the unpredictable superstar.
Assistant: I thought you did rather well!
As Blaze walks down the hallway, a rather large housekeeping cart is placed off to one side. Or rather, it is for a few moments as Blaze bends down, hurling the whole thing over on its side, sending a crash of toilet paper and complimentary mints in every direction.
Teo Blaze: Damn you Kyle Kemp! Damn your smug face in every direction! And now they’re probably gonna give Walter the rematch, even though I practically hospitalized the homunculus through a table...just...god damn it!
Assistant: Look, Teo, you gotta relax. It’s not like you’ve never lost a title match before.
Teo turns, and cocks his head to the side slowly, as despite the statement’s intentions, the assistant had clearly not thought the implications through.
Teo Blaze: Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.
Assistant: ...I was just trying to help.
Rolling his eyes, Teo throws his hands up in the air, as though calling for strength from a higher power.
Teo Blaze: I know you were, bud...and do you know the worst part? I have to wait six whole days before I get to put my foot up the ass of the unlucky son-of-a-bitch that gets to deal with this frustration! Speaking of which…
Assistant: Hold on, hold on, I’m looking…
The assistant has reached into his pocket to remove a large and somewhat dated looking cellular phone. Slowly he taps on the analog keyboard, scrolling through a series of emails until he reaches the desired one.
Assistant: This week you’re up against Ryan Elias.
Teo Blaze: The pseudo-religious goofball from the eight-man tag? I meant unlucky because they’d have to face me, not because...hell, there’s almost too many reasons to pick from. Putting aside the fact that I think he genuinely believes himself to be a supernatural creature, the craziest damn thing is that he’d agree to this match in the first place. Not to act too cocky, mind, but...really? Ryan Elias? That’s who they throw at me after a United States Title shot?
Assistant: Which you lost.
Teo Blaze: Stuff it, sweater vest. Ryan Elias, who for his big match at Carnage, with a shot at All-In on the line, actually brought up something that I said in our match the previous...Oh.
OOoooooooh.
Oh that’s what we’re dealing with, huh?
Teo looks for all of the world as though he has just smelled something unpleasant. As more thoughts enter his head, his expression changes, if before he was upset, or frustrated, he now looks very different. His face is contorted into an expression that could only be described as stone-faced rage. He stares completely forward, unflinching, and speaks without turning around.
Teo Blaze: Pick up that cart.
Teo’s assistant looks at him, caught off guard by the abruptness of the order, but after carefully pocketing his phone,the assistant indeed picks up that cart.
Only for Teo to slam a roundhouse kick as hard as he can into its side! The cart practically comes off the ground as it tumbles end over end down the hall, any remaining contents now arranged very artfully on either side of the beige wallpaper.
Teo Blaze: Come on, let’s get back to the room. I have some arrangements you need to make. Dumbass wants to stick his dick in a beartrap, let’s make sure he realizes just what the hell he’s putting on the line…
The assistant has been staring at the cart for the duration of Teo’s sentence, but he turns slowly back to look at his charge.
Assistant: Um, about that…
Teo looks back with a look that could only be described as determined, well, if it were described by someone who didn’t want to say borderline psychotic focus.
As the words hang in the air for a moment, Teo’s expression slowly begins to soften. It turns slowly from the look of fury to one of glib satisfaction. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks around slowly at his handiwork.
Teo Blaze: Well shit, I wouldn’t want to stay here anyway. I mean if the hallways are this messy, imagine the rooms!
His companion has an expression that shows he isn’t sure whether to chuckle at the comment or look for the nearest escape route, but as the King of All Media walks back the way they came, one thing is clear. There is a renewed energy to his step.
What now greets the viewer is the same blank screen that has preceded many promos before it, the screen that for all intents and purposes could be the sign of a broken television set if not for the small logo in the bottom right side of the screen.
But something is different, for although in most instances the blank screen would quickly shift to a new image, a commercial at the very least. But here, the darkness lingers in silence just a few moments too long.
But then, all at once, there is a tremendous noise! The fact that such a sharp sound echoes from complete silence is startling, an almost alien sensation for the first few moments on which it hangs, but once the shock wears off, the sound becomes instantly recognizable. It is the harsh trilling of a pipe organ, playing its trilling and warbling notes happily in the silence as a small amount of light begins to enter the scene, at once revealing a menagerie of color! A veritable rainbow practically leaps off of the screen as light shines into the scene through an ornate and incredibly detailed stained glass window.
The beautiful glass panes of every color, arranged into a scene that is possibly biblical in nature, dominates the background. Though details are scarce with the limited light, one thing is also clear. Standing in front of the window, his arms held out to either side, is a figure wearing what appears to be a long robe. His face is almost completely obscured in silhouette, and would be completely indecipherable at first, but as the light becomes brighter, there is upon his face a telltale sign.
Two round, shining red lenses over a bent and crooked smile.
Teo Blaze: Dearly beloved...we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life.
Electric word life, it means forever…
…And it is also a board game by Milton Bradley.
And just like in that game of life, sometimes we spin 10’s, and sometimes our number comes up 1.
For every setback, there is a moment of hope, and for every moment of hope someone kicks your teeth in just for the hell of it.
But I’m here to tell you there’s something else.
The Afterworld.
A world of never ending happiness.
You can always see the sun, day or night.
Sounds nice, doesn’t it? But see, dearly beloved, here’s the thing. We do not live in the afterworld. We live in the real world.
And in the real world, sometimes the universe in its infinite wisdom sees fit to give us what is called a reality check.
He smiles, craning his neck slowly upwards as he enjoys the ambient sounds around him, letting his words hang in the air. Then all at once, his tone changes. Gone is the gentle nature of his words, replaced with an all-too-sudden and immediate coldness.
Teo Blaze: And Ryan Elias has written a reality check that his ass can’t cash.
Hey there buddy, how are ya? I know you’re watching, seeing as you apparently are so invested in my promos that you quote them at other people.
You’ve heard the phrase “be careful what you wish for”, haven’t you Ryan? It’s an old phrase, that’s meant to warn against greed, or excessive desire…
But for you? It should have been a fucking warning.
The moment that you saw fit to taint my message by putting it in that dirty mouth of yours, you made the biggest mistake of your life.
Perhaps you thought, “Maybe Teo will see me respond to him and challenge me to a match”. It’s the only explanation I can think of.
Or is it the fact that my words hit so hard, hurt your little feelings so badly that you had to get up in front of the world, with a shot at all in on the line! And open your promo by trying to take a shot at me?
No, I don’t think so. The more I think about it, the more it becomes clear the reason that you decided to write your own execution order. It’s because you realized that your ability to speak, your ability to intimidate is so low, so remedial, so fucking below the bare minimum required that you figured putting in my words would elevate you by association.
That more people would tune in to see Ryan Elias say my name than would tune in to see Ryan Elias cut another long, rambling, self-important and self-interested garbage fire. A speech whose only use would be for interrogating prisoners. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just shut it off!”
Teo mimes the desperation of the hypothetical prisoner, as though looking up at a captor, eyes wide and fearful. But his expression shifts to the same twisted grin that has become his trademark, as though he is thinking of the punchline to a particularly cruel joke.
Teo Blaze: Let me take a moment to address you directly, Ryan. Listen very carefully to what I am about to say, because I want to be very clear.
Every time you open your mouth, it’s like you unleash a flood, a torrent! Of bullshit. You talk about how you have been wronged, how you have been mistreated, how even your nickname is a curse upon your poor and fragile soul and blah dee blah blah…ugh!
As Teo speaks, he turns and gestures towards the stained glass window with one arm. As the camera slowly pans outward, the details are now clear. The image that has been arranged in colored glass is a caricature of Ryan Elias, his face scrunched up into a tantrum, tears flowing from closed eyes, mouth hanging open...with the bald head it looks almost as though Ryan has been transformed into a crying baby.
Teo Blaze: When we look at you Ryan, this is what we see. This is the image of Saint Elias that will be forever burned into the minds of anyone who has had the displeasure of speaking to you for more than a few moments. Each and every time you open your mouth, you stamp a permanent reminder in my and every single person who is unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of a television screen that you are nothing more than an arrogant, egotistical, son-of-a-bitch who only cares about himself.
You say you’re haunted? You say you’ve got demons, and possibly not in the metaphorical sense? You say that you’ve got baggage? Do people like me say mean things about you?
Get down off the cross, build a bridge, and get over it, motherfucker.
It boggles my mind, Ryan, that you have the balls to walk around like you deserve any ounce of sympathy, like you are a damned sight better than anyone else. That you get to do what you want because you’re special, you’re cool. You’re the epitome of perfection, but don’t worry, you’ll tell everyone that you don’t like that nickname, because you know you’re not perfect.
Teo rolls his eyes so hard they look like they might pop out of his head, and makes a very rude gesture with his right hand as though he is running it rapidly up and and down a cucumber.
Teo Blaze: Tell me, Ryan, was that supposed to be a big moment for you? An admission that you had flaws? That you had failed? Did you expect to get up in front of the world and say “I know I’m not perfect” and get a big round of applause?
Because news flash, when you say “I’m not perfect” all that I hear is “We know, now shut the fuck up”.
Teo turns towards the stained glass window, looking at the distorted and grotesque face of his opponent, and seems to consider it for a second. Then, all at once, he leans his head back and with one motion of his head, slams a large amount of spit into the colored glass, right in Elias’s face.
Teo Blaze: I’m going to give you a bit of advice, Ryan, and this advice will serve you well for the rest of your life.
Actions speak louder than words.
You can tell us how humble you are, you can tell us how aware you are of your own flaws, but when you walk into a building, shoulders rolling, smug fucking grin on your face, I can see it. I can see the fact that you don’t respect anyone else, that you don’t give a damn about anybody else. You think that you are so perfect, so above it all, that you have the fucking moral high ground to lecture anybody in the world about their failings.
And that...that is the most disgusting thing about you, Ryan Elias. That you are so thick-headed, that you have so little awareness, that you actually have the stupidity, the idiocy, the fucking gall to think that you have the right to tell anybody else how to live their life.
As Teo speaks, he holds out his right hand slowly. As his arm extends outwards, it slowly makes a half circle until he is holding it above his head, hand outstretched. As soon as it reaches its zenith, a bright and golden light shines down from the ceiling, and slowly, wrapped in a golden chain, descends an object.
A long, and completely black Sledgehammer, with the initials “T.B.” carved in red ink along the iron head.
Teo Blaze: You know what I speak for, Ryan Elias. I have said it since the day I walked into Action Wrestling. I speak for the truth.
And the truth, it is not “the epitome of perfection”.
It is not even beautiful.
The truth, Ryan Elias…
The truth is ugly.
All at once, as soon as he says it, he turns and grabs the sledgehammer. With one circular motion, he spins and hurls the object as hard as he can, releasing it. His aim is true, and the sledgehammer flies like a missile into the center of the pane, colliding right with Ryan Elias’s nose. There is a brief and beautiful moment as it makes contact, where the entire world seems to stand still. It passes through without hesitation, forming a rectangular hole…
...and from that, a crack begins to curl outward, then another, and another, until a veritable spiderweb of cracks along the distorted and crying face. For a brief instant, it seems as though it might hold, but then, and all at once, the entire face shatters into countless shards, flying in every direction in a cascade of Ryan Elias colored glass. Teo stands, unmoving, still in the position from whence he hurled it, and smiles.
Teo Blaze: And the truth is painful.
When you stood in front of the world and tried to cover your own faults by admitting to them? You distorted her. You tried to twist yourself to get away from her.
But the truth always catches up to us.
It begins this week with a reminder. When I walk into that ring, I will answer the challenge you laid at my feet when you dared to steal my words, to defile my message with your dirty mouth. And just to make sure that you never have the chance to do it again, I’m going to drive my knee right into your head, as hard as I can, and then, when I have you down, I’m going to do it again. I’m going to hit your head so hard that you’ll think you’ve been shot, and I’m going to keep doing it until your jaw detaches from your fucking skull!
Then, and only then will I be sure that you will never again blight these airwaves with your bullshit, that you will never again be able to look in the mirror without remembering just how fucking stupid you really are, that you put yourself on the radar of the King of All Media, of the man who made a hobby out of shocking the world.
And when you look in the mirror, when you see your twisted, mangled, and scarred face, when you see the marks that our encounter has permanently embedded into your very being, the marks that will never go away..?
Then, and only then...do you get to talk about your own imperfections. Do you get to talk about your faults. You will not be able to dress up ego as humility because your humility will be looking you right in the face in your goddamned reflection.
As Teo looks back towards the camera, the light from behind the stained glass becomes clearer, unimpeded by the face of Ryan Elias. From deep behind the void left by the shattered glass, two deep red lights are staring, like a pair of demon’s eyes. Deep crimson, almost hauntingly bright.
But as they slowly come into focus, it becomes clear that they are perfectly round, like a pair of lenses.
Teo Blaze: I see right through you, Ryan Elias. Make no doubt about it, I always have.
And after this week, the truth shall set you free.
With that, Teo turns back towards the shattered glass, staring upwards with a wicked, twisted smile.
Epilogue:
The scene has shifted once more, Teo is now dressed once again in street clothes, standing in a long hallway. The room in question is not like the hotel room, with endless stretches of doors on either side, the hallway in question has only one door, with a handmade sign placed on it, the words “Box Office” scrawled in sharpee.
Teo leans against the wall, cell phone placed against his ear, balanced on his left shoulder. In his right hand, he casually flicks a small silver lighter open and closed, staring at the flame as he does so.
Teo Blaze: Right, well, I’m glad we could take care of it. Let the staff know that the brunch is to make up for the extra cleaning hours. Right, thanks.
With that, he grabs the cell phone and hangs up on the concierge. Despite his glib remarks to the assistant, truth be told it would have bothered him to leave the hotel room in the state he did. But when he thought about Elias, something just flowed through him, something raw...something...primal.
It was as though every inch in his body was crying for him to lunge forward and rip Elias to pieces, to grab his arrogant head and drive it as hard as he could into the side of the apron, to-
All at once, the thought was interrupted by a sudden shock of pain. A searing and sharp sensation shot up Teo’s right arm as he reflexively shook it, the lighter clattering to the floor. Lost in emotion, in thoughts of punishing Elias, he had held down the switch that distributed the butane too hard, and the flame had grown large enough to burn his finger.
And as he looked at his scorched flesh over the lenses of his glasses, a new feeling began to well up from deep inside.
A realization.
The fire that he had stoked for so long had begun to cool. That was why he had slipped against Kemp and Walter, that was why he had faltered. That flaming desire, that roaring fire that had propelled him so far needed fuel. It needed to be sustained.
He had tried to sate the flame inside him with gold, with a lust for the United States Championship.
But this...this was different. The feeling he felt when he thought of shutting up Elias once and for all, that burning fire within…
The brighter it burned, the hotter it became...the more dangerous it could be.
He had tried to cage it, to contain it, to use it.
He looked down at the fallen lighter, and at his burnt and stinging finger.
Fire can only be caged for so long. When it is allowed to be free, it reaches out, it attacks any fuel it can find, it devours it.
And Ryan Elias had volunteered himself as kindling.
And as Teo slowly bent down to pick up the lighter, he felt his heart begin to race, his thoughts now swirling with excitement, with possibility. The flame that burned within him was not meant to be contained, and he knew that he would need to free it.
Even if it meant someone had to get burned.
With that, Teo throws his head back, and from deep inside his body, erupts a burst of twisted, echoing laughter, a broken and unnatural sound throwing itself down the empty hallway as the flame from the lighter begins to glow once more.
The sound is punctuated by what sounds like a shopping cart being thrown down a hallway. As the scene slowly fades into view from darkness, a pair of individuals can be seen walking down a corridor in a run-down hotel. On the right is the now-very recognizable Teo Blaze, his face contorted into such an expression of rage that it would not be surprising for smoke to be coming out from behind the lenses of his dark red glasses. Following closely, a few steps behind, is the same production assistant that only a few weeks prior Action Wrestling had assigned to accompany and...keep an eye on the unpredictable superstar.
Assistant: I thought you did rather well!
As Blaze walks down the hallway, a rather large housekeeping cart is placed off to one side. Or rather, it is for a few moments as Blaze bends down, hurling the whole thing over on its side, sending a crash of toilet paper and complimentary mints in every direction.
Teo Blaze: Damn you Kyle Kemp! Damn your smug face in every direction! And now they’re probably gonna give Walter the rematch, even though I practically hospitalized the homunculus through a table...just...god damn it!
Assistant: Look, Teo, you gotta relax. It’s not like you’ve never lost a title match before.
Teo turns, and cocks his head to the side slowly, as despite the statement’s intentions, the assistant had clearly not thought the implications through.
Teo Blaze: Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.
Assistant: ...I was just trying to help.
Rolling his eyes, Teo throws his hands up in the air, as though calling for strength from a higher power.
Teo Blaze: I know you were, bud...and do you know the worst part? I have to wait six whole days before I get to put my foot up the ass of the unlucky son-of-a-bitch that gets to deal with this frustration! Speaking of which…
Assistant: Hold on, hold on, I’m looking…
The assistant has reached into his pocket to remove a large and somewhat dated looking cellular phone. Slowly he taps on the analog keyboard, scrolling through a series of emails until he reaches the desired one.
Assistant: This week you’re up against Ryan Elias.
Teo Blaze: The pseudo-religious goofball from the eight-man tag? I meant unlucky because they’d have to face me, not because...hell, there’s almost too many reasons to pick from. Putting aside the fact that I think he genuinely believes himself to be a supernatural creature, the craziest damn thing is that he’d agree to this match in the first place. Not to act too cocky, mind, but...really? Ryan Elias? That’s who they throw at me after a United States Title shot?
Assistant: Which you lost.
Teo Blaze: Stuff it, sweater vest. Ryan Elias, who for his big match at Carnage, with a shot at All-In on the line, actually brought up something that I said in our match the previous...Oh.
OOoooooooh.
Oh that’s what we’re dealing with, huh?
Teo looks for all of the world as though he has just smelled something unpleasant. As more thoughts enter his head, his expression changes, if before he was upset, or frustrated, he now looks very different. His face is contorted into an expression that could only be described as stone-faced rage. He stares completely forward, unflinching, and speaks without turning around.
Teo Blaze: Pick up that cart.
Teo’s assistant looks at him, caught off guard by the abruptness of the order, but after carefully pocketing his phone,the assistant indeed picks up that cart.
Only for Teo to slam a roundhouse kick as hard as he can into its side! The cart practically comes off the ground as it tumbles end over end down the hall, any remaining contents now arranged very artfully on either side of the beige wallpaper.
Teo Blaze: Come on, let’s get back to the room. I have some arrangements you need to make. Dumbass wants to stick his dick in a beartrap, let’s make sure he realizes just what the hell he’s putting on the line…
The assistant has been staring at the cart for the duration of Teo’s sentence, but he turns slowly back to look at his charge.
Assistant: Um, about that…
Teo looks back with a look that could only be described as determined, well, if it were described by someone who didn’t want to say borderline psychotic focus.
Assistant: We’re actually staying at the hotel down the street. You’ve been angrily talking to yourself for three blocks.
As the words hang in the air for a moment, Teo’s expression slowly begins to soften. It turns slowly from the look of fury to one of glib satisfaction. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks around slowly at his handiwork.
Teo Blaze: Well shit, I wouldn’t want to stay here anyway. I mean if the hallways are this messy, imagine the rooms!
His companion has an expression that shows he isn’t sure whether to chuckle at the comment or look for the nearest escape route, but as the King of All Media walks back the way they came, one thing is clear. There is a renewed energy to his step.
Action Wrestling and Teo Blaze Present:
Elias's Error: In Truth, his Own Fault
Elias's Error: In Truth, his Own Fault
What now greets the viewer is the same blank screen that has preceded many promos before it, the screen that for all intents and purposes could be the sign of a broken television set if not for the small logo in the bottom right side of the screen.
But something is different, for although in most instances the blank screen would quickly shift to a new image, a commercial at the very least. But here, the darkness lingers in silence just a few moments too long.
But then, all at once, there is a tremendous noise! The fact that such a sharp sound echoes from complete silence is startling, an almost alien sensation for the first few moments on which it hangs, but once the shock wears off, the sound becomes instantly recognizable. It is the harsh trilling of a pipe organ, playing its trilling and warbling notes happily in the silence as a small amount of light begins to enter the scene, at once revealing a menagerie of color! A veritable rainbow practically leaps off of the screen as light shines into the scene through an ornate and incredibly detailed stained glass window.
The beautiful glass panes of every color, arranged into a scene that is possibly biblical in nature, dominates the background. Though details are scarce with the limited light, one thing is also clear. Standing in front of the window, his arms held out to either side, is a figure wearing what appears to be a long robe. His face is almost completely obscured in silhouette, and would be completely indecipherable at first, but as the light becomes brighter, there is upon his face a telltale sign.
Two round, shining red lenses over a bent and crooked smile.
Teo Blaze: Dearly beloved...we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life.
Electric word life, it means forever…
…And it is also a board game by Milton Bradley.
And just like in that game of life, sometimes we spin 10’s, and sometimes our number comes up 1.
For every setback, there is a moment of hope, and for every moment of hope someone kicks your teeth in just for the hell of it.
But I’m here to tell you there’s something else.
The Afterworld.
A world of never ending happiness.
You can always see the sun, day or night.
Sounds nice, doesn’t it? But see, dearly beloved, here’s the thing. We do not live in the afterworld. We live in the real world.
And in the real world, sometimes the universe in its infinite wisdom sees fit to give us what is called a reality check.
He smiles, craning his neck slowly upwards as he enjoys the ambient sounds around him, letting his words hang in the air. Then all at once, his tone changes. Gone is the gentle nature of his words, replaced with an all-too-sudden and immediate coldness.
Teo Blaze: And Ryan Elias has written a reality check that his ass can’t cash.
Hey there buddy, how are ya? I know you’re watching, seeing as you apparently are so invested in my promos that you quote them at other people.
You’ve heard the phrase “be careful what you wish for”, haven’t you Ryan? It’s an old phrase, that’s meant to warn against greed, or excessive desire…
But for you? It should have been a fucking warning.
The moment that you saw fit to taint my message by putting it in that dirty mouth of yours, you made the biggest mistake of your life.
Perhaps you thought, “Maybe Teo will see me respond to him and challenge me to a match”. It’s the only explanation I can think of.
Or is it the fact that my words hit so hard, hurt your little feelings so badly that you had to get up in front of the world, with a shot at all in on the line! And open your promo by trying to take a shot at me?
No, I don’t think so. The more I think about it, the more it becomes clear the reason that you decided to write your own execution order. It’s because you realized that your ability to speak, your ability to intimidate is so low, so remedial, so fucking below the bare minimum required that you figured putting in my words would elevate you by association.
That more people would tune in to see Ryan Elias say my name than would tune in to see Ryan Elias cut another long, rambling, self-important and self-interested garbage fire. A speech whose only use would be for interrogating prisoners. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just shut it off!”
Teo mimes the desperation of the hypothetical prisoner, as though looking up at a captor, eyes wide and fearful. But his expression shifts to the same twisted grin that has become his trademark, as though he is thinking of the punchline to a particularly cruel joke.
Teo Blaze: Let me take a moment to address you directly, Ryan. Listen very carefully to what I am about to say, because I want to be very clear.
Every time you open your mouth, it’s like you unleash a flood, a torrent! Of bullshit. You talk about how you have been wronged, how you have been mistreated, how even your nickname is a curse upon your poor and fragile soul and blah dee blah blah…ugh!
As Teo speaks, he turns and gestures towards the stained glass window with one arm. As the camera slowly pans outward, the details are now clear. The image that has been arranged in colored glass is a caricature of Ryan Elias, his face scrunched up into a tantrum, tears flowing from closed eyes, mouth hanging open...with the bald head it looks almost as though Ryan has been transformed into a crying baby.
Teo Blaze: When we look at you Ryan, this is what we see. This is the image of Saint Elias that will be forever burned into the minds of anyone who has had the displeasure of speaking to you for more than a few moments. Each and every time you open your mouth, you stamp a permanent reminder in my and every single person who is unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of a television screen that you are nothing more than an arrogant, egotistical, son-of-a-bitch who only cares about himself.
You say you’re haunted? You say you’ve got demons, and possibly not in the metaphorical sense? You say that you’ve got baggage? Do people like me say mean things about you?
Get down off the cross, build a bridge, and get over it, motherfucker.
It boggles my mind, Ryan, that you have the balls to walk around like you deserve any ounce of sympathy, like you are a damned sight better than anyone else. That you get to do what you want because you’re special, you’re cool. You’re the epitome of perfection, but don’t worry, you’ll tell everyone that you don’t like that nickname, because you know you’re not perfect.
Teo rolls his eyes so hard they look like they might pop out of his head, and makes a very rude gesture with his right hand as though he is running it rapidly up and and down a cucumber.
Teo Blaze: Tell me, Ryan, was that supposed to be a big moment for you? An admission that you had flaws? That you had failed? Did you expect to get up in front of the world and say “I know I’m not perfect” and get a big round of applause?
Because news flash, when you say “I’m not perfect” all that I hear is “We know, now shut the fuck up”.
Teo turns towards the stained glass window, looking at the distorted and grotesque face of his opponent, and seems to consider it for a second. Then, all at once, he leans his head back and with one motion of his head, slams a large amount of spit into the colored glass, right in Elias’s face.
Teo Blaze: I’m going to give you a bit of advice, Ryan, and this advice will serve you well for the rest of your life.
Actions speak louder than words.
You can tell us how humble you are, you can tell us how aware you are of your own flaws, but when you walk into a building, shoulders rolling, smug fucking grin on your face, I can see it. I can see the fact that you don’t respect anyone else, that you don’t give a damn about anybody else. You think that you are so perfect, so above it all, that you have the fucking moral high ground to lecture anybody in the world about their failings.
And that...that is the most disgusting thing about you, Ryan Elias. That you are so thick-headed, that you have so little awareness, that you actually have the stupidity, the idiocy, the fucking gall to think that you have the right to tell anybody else how to live their life.
As Teo speaks, he holds out his right hand slowly. As his arm extends outwards, it slowly makes a half circle until he is holding it above his head, hand outstretched. As soon as it reaches its zenith, a bright and golden light shines down from the ceiling, and slowly, wrapped in a golden chain, descends an object.
A long, and completely black Sledgehammer, with the initials “T.B.” carved in red ink along the iron head.
Teo Blaze: You know what I speak for, Ryan Elias. I have said it since the day I walked into Action Wrestling. I speak for the truth.
And the truth, it is not “the epitome of perfection”.
It is not even beautiful.
The truth, Ryan Elias…
The truth is ugly.
All at once, as soon as he says it, he turns and grabs the sledgehammer. With one circular motion, he spins and hurls the object as hard as he can, releasing it. His aim is true, and the sledgehammer flies like a missile into the center of the pane, colliding right with Ryan Elias’s nose. There is a brief and beautiful moment as it makes contact, where the entire world seems to stand still. It passes through without hesitation, forming a rectangular hole…
...and from that, a crack begins to curl outward, then another, and another, until a veritable spiderweb of cracks along the distorted and crying face. For a brief instant, it seems as though it might hold, but then, and all at once, the entire face shatters into countless shards, flying in every direction in a cascade of Ryan Elias colored glass. Teo stands, unmoving, still in the position from whence he hurled it, and smiles.
Teo Blaze: And the truth is painful.
When you stood in front of the world and tried to cover your own faults by admitting to them? You distorted her. You tried to twist yourself to get away from her.
But the truth always catches up to us.
It begins this week with a reminder. When I walk into that ring, I will answer the challenge you laid at my feet when you dared to steal my words, to defile my message with your dirty mouth. And just to make sure that you never have the chance to do it again, I’m going to drive my knee right into your head, as hard as I can, and then, when I have you down, I’m going to do it again. I’m going to hit your head so hard that you’ll think you’ve been shot, and I’m going to keep doing it until your jaw detaches from your fucking skull!
Then, and only then will I be sure that you will never again blight these airwaves with your bullshit, that you will never again be able to look in the mirror without remembering just how fucking stupid you really are, that you put yourself on the radar of the King of All Media, of the man who made a hobby out of shocking the world.
And when you look in the mirror, when you see your twisted, mangled, and scarred face, when you see the marks that our encounter has permanently embedded into your very being, the marks that will never go away..?
Then, and only then...do you get to talk about your own imperfections. Do you get to talk about your faults. You will not be able to dress up ego as humility because your humility will be looking you right in the face in your goddamned reflection.
As Teo looks back towards the camera, the light from behind the stained glass becomes clearer, unimpeded by the face of Ryan Elias. From deep behind the void left by the shattered glass, two deep red lights are staring, like a pair of demon’s eyes. Deep crimson, almost hauntingly bright.
But as they slowly come into focus, it becomes clear that they are perfectly round, like a pair of lenses.
Teo Blaze: I see right through you, Ryan Elias. Make no doubt about it, I always have.
And after this week, the truth shall set you free.
With that, Teo turns back towards the shattered glass, staring upwards with a wicked, twisted smile.
Epilogue:
The scene has shifted once more, Teo is now dressed once again in street clothes, standing in a long hallway. The room in question is not like the hotel room, with endless stretches of doors on either side, the hallway in question has only one door, with a handmade sign placed on it, the words “Box Office” scrawled in sharpee.
Teo leans against the wall, cell phone placed against his ear, balanced on his left shoulder. In his right hand, he casually flicks a small silver lighter open and closed, staring at the flame as he does so.
Teo Blaze: Right, well, I’m glad we could take care of it. Let the staff know that the brunch is to make up for the extra cleaning hours. Right, thanks.
With that, he grabs the cell phone and hangs up on the concierge. Despite his glib remarks to the assistant, truth be told it would have bothered him to leave the hotel room in the state he did. But when he thought about Elias, something just flowed through him, something raw...something...primal.
It was as though every inch in his body was crying for him to lunge forward and rip Elias to pieces, to grab his arrogant head and drive it as hard as he could into the side of the apron, to-
All at once, the thought was interrupted by a sudden shock of pain. A searing and sharp sensation shot up Teo’s right arm as he reflexively shook it, the lighter clattering to the floor. Lost in emotion, in thoughts of punishing Elias, he had held down the switch that distributed the butane too hard, and the flame had grown large enough to burn his finger.
And as he looked at his scorched flesh over the lenses of his glasses, a new feeling began to well up from deep inside.
A realization.
The fire that he had stoked for so long had begun to cool. That was why he had slipped against Kemp and Walter, that was why he had faltered. That flaming desire, that roaring fire that had propelled him so far needed fuel. It needed to be sustained.
He had tried to sate the flame inside him with gold, with a lust for the United States Championship.
But this...this was different. The feeling he felt when he thought of shutting up Elias once and for all, that burning fire within…
The brighter it burned, the hotter it became...the more dangerous it could be.
He had tried to cage it, to contain it, to use it.
He looked down at the fallen lighter, and at his burnt and stinging finger.
Fire can only be caged for so long. When it is allowed to be free, it reaches out, it attacks any fuel it can find, it devours it.
And Ryan Elias had volunteered himself as kindling.
And as Teo slowly bent down to pick up the lighter, he felt his heart begin to race, his thoughts now swirling with excitement, with possibility. The flame that burned within him was not meant to be contained, and he knew that he would need to free it.
Even if it meant someone had to get burned.
With that, Teo throws his head back, and from deep inside his body, erupts a burst of twisted, echoing laughter, a broken and unnatural sound throwing itself down the empty hallway as the flame from the lighter begins to glow once more.