Post by Teo Blaze on Aug 25, 2019 22:34:33 GMT -5
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
The voice echoed from somewhere deep inside the house, and despite the language, the tone in which it was delivered said far more than the words themselves ever could. The voice that came from within the house issued forth its declaration in a tone that could best be described as a mix between incredulity and disgust, and as the young Action Wrestling executive walked towards the front door, he knew that he would have to have a long and tense conversation with-
CRASH!!
All at once, his train of thought was derailed by a harsh and destructive sound, the soft tinkle of broken glass as though smashed by a hammer, followed by a sound of crunching plastic and a vague electrical squeal.
He looked over to his left, where now, beneath a very much shattered window, laid a very familiar looking laptop, smashed into several pieces by a collision with a garden gnome.
That did not bode well.
===
The room was dark, as was often the case. Truth be told, Teo had let it fall somewhat into disrepair. It was a small property, several randomly assorted rooms with alleys on either side just big enough to fit a trash can. Teo had bought the little house with the money Action Wrestling had used to buy out his WCF contract. The deal had flown over his head, but a lawyer had called him and informed him of the terms of his new employment. “The check was in the mail.”
While he had to admit it was nice to be able to come home to an actual house instead of a hotel room, he had hardly been allowed the time to enjoy it. Days off came rarely in the wrestling business, and he had prided himself for years on not allowing himself the luxury of comfort.
But still, the room was dark. The table lamps darkened, the windows on the side of the house blocked by the property on the other side. It was an oppressive darkness. And as Teo sat in front of his laptop, awaiting the announcement of his next match, he could only reflect in silence on just how little reward he had received. He had come within literal inches of the All-In briefcase, had his hands placed on its metal casing...but at the last moment he had faltered. An instantaneous slip-up, and it was back to the drawing board once again.
But he had to believe. He knew that his journey in Action Wrestling would not be an easy one, and that there was always room to keep improving, to keep refining his craft. Strength, after all, came only through failure. That was the lesson he had taken from WCF, that he could never allow himself to be defeated, that no matter how many failures he had to live through, he would endure. All that was left was to see what the future had in store.
*ding*
A smile came across his face. This was always the moment that he most awaited, that anticipation of the next opponent, that tantalizing prospect of the unknown. And it was with that same smile that he clicked the small icon to open up the match card for the coming week.
And as he stared at the laptop, the smile began to fade, to dip, to shift. First into a look of confusion, then one of disbelief…
But finally, his eyebrows curled downward, his teeth began to come together, to grind off of one another, and his hands began to clench, and then shake. His breath became tight, practically steaming out of his nostrils.
And it was at this moment that the laptop lost purchase with the earth and began to defy gravity, hurtling towards the covered window on the front of the house.
===
Teo Blaze: Let me say it again, so the whole world can hear it.
Assistant: Well, I don’t think that’s nec-
Teo Blaze: Are you. Fucking! Kidding me??
Assistant: Keep your voice down! The neighbors will-
Teo Blaze: Fuck my neighbors! Yes, Agnes, even you! Stop looking in my window!
Across the street, a pair of curtains is quickly drawn shut with a whoosh.
Teo Blaze: So you’re telling me that just because some half-baked, talentless nobody takes it upon himself to use my last name, that suddenly I’m having to fight for the right to use that name? That my very identity is being wagered on the petty whim of that shrew putting the show together?!
Assistant: I know you’re upset, but-
Teo Blaze: Oh no, you don’t know a goddamned thing about upset! You think you know what it means to be angry? To be wronged? To be insulted? Someone up there just made the kind of mistake that they invented cover-ups for!
As Teo is speaking, he reaches over to the kitchen counter, snatching a meat tenderizer from off the wall. With a roar, he slams it against one of the kitchen cabinets, sending splinters flying in every direction as his assistant recoils from the impact.
Teo Blaze: Do you think this name is a cute little moniker? Something I chose out of the blue because it sounded cool? Do you think that I take my identity so lightly, that I think so little of myself?
Teo reaches out with his left hand, the muscles of his arm bulging from the sleeves of his white T-shirt. He grabs the faucet of the kitchen sink, pulling as hard as he can. With a moan and a creak of tortured plumbing, the entire fixture rips off of the counter! Teo hurls it as hard as he can across the room, where it sticks into the drywall like a dart.
Assistant: Come on, Teo! What good will destroying your own property do?
Teo Blaze: I could give a damn about property!
As if to emphasize his point, Teo slams his sneaker against one of the lower row of cabinets. The sneaker goes through the wood like tissue paper.
Teo Blaze: This house is mine to do with as I please! If I choose to burn the damn thing down, that’s my choice, because it’s mine!
Assistant: But, but-
Teo Blaze: And the Blaze name does not belong to Action Wrestling, it does not belong to Torture, it doesn’t belong to Camila, and it damned sure doesn’t belong to that dimestore knock-off wannabe “Walker, Texas Ranger” either!
Teo stomps across the linoleum floor to the screen door leading to the backyard, slamming his knee into the handle, which practically flies off of the frame as the door is knocked open. With the same unflinching look of determination, he steps into the unmowed grass, holding his hands out at both sides and letting loose a scream of frustration, a howling and vicious sound that seems to echo throughout the cloudless blue sky.
His breathing is labored, his entire body shaking, every inch crying out for him to continue his destruction, to reach out and grab anything nearby, anything that he can tear down, can break.
But as his fists clench tighter and tighter, his eyes virtually glowing with emotion, his breathing begins to slow, his chest expanding and contracting more slowly, his head craning forward as his eyes slowly close.
An eerie, almost unnatural calm begins to fall over the backyard. Even the local wildlife seems frozen, afraid to move for fear of provoking the red-lensed monster that now stands in the yard.
All is silence.
But it is not a peaceful silence.
It is the silence that comes before a storm.
...After a few moments, Teo finally opens his mouth. The voice that comes forth no longer displays the fury that lies beneath. It echoes forth with the kind of calm that can only come from a place beyond anger, from a mind that has focused every single thought on one singular purpose.
Teo Blaze: Well then. If that’s how they want it, then so be it.
Behind him, the sheepish face of the young executive can be seen, his suit disheveled and wet, splinters in his perfectly coiffed hair. The young man seems to want to say something, but thinks better of it, merely waiting for the next words.
Teo Blaze: Come on, we’ve got work to do.
As he turns, his fist clenches one final time, and the wooden handle of the meat tenderizer snaps in half in his grip, either end falling to the grass beneath his feet. As Blaze returns to the kitchen, the camera hangs on the splintered and shattered wood.
===
The scene has changed dramatically from the previous day. Where previously the viewer had found themselves in a rather quaint, if small suburban neighborhood, where they now sit could not be further from such a place.
For miles and miles, bright orange sand is all that can be seen. From tall, dune-like piles, to sunblasted and cracked memories of riverbeds, the sights and sounds of an empty desert floor are all that there is to greet the traveler to such a place. Pale, bleached bones and disheveled cacti dot the landscape, the only break from the seemingly endless stretch of emptiness.
But if there was one defining trait, one absolute hallmark of the scene, it would be the heat. Even without being physically present, the overwhelming and sweltering temperature is a palpable presence for anyone who lays eyes. Radiating off of the sands, almost shimmering against the cloudless blue sky.
And standing among the heat, flesh caked with dirt and sweat, in only a beaten up set of blue jeans and a pair of bright red sunglasses, stands Teo Blaze. His arms are held out to either side, the scars of his matches laid bare for any who care to see, the deep red cuts and deep bruises only becoming more clear under the harsh sunlight. The sand blows over his bare feet as the desert wind catches the grains in its grasp.
With a long and deliberate sigh, Teo slowly opens his eyes, staring directly into the camera as his mouth opens.
Teo Blaze: Tell me Beau. I know you are from Texas, you take such fucking pride in it.
Have you ever seen a brush fire on the desert floor?
Tell me Beau.
Have you ever seen a wild Blaze?
Teo begins walking forward, leaving footprints in the hot sand with every step. His motion is focused, every step seeming to be thought out as he takes it.
Teo Blaze: Let me tell you a little secret, Beau, because it occurs to me that somewhere beneath that cowboy hat in that rotten piece of shit you call a brain, that you might actually think you have a chance in this match.
That somewhere, deep within your subconscious, there is a little voice rattling around, a little defiant man telling you that you have even the slightest chance of victory this week.
You’d do best to squash that voice right this second before it gets you hurt.
Because this week? There will be no fucking around.
This week, Beau, I am going to step into that ring, and I am going to come at you with every ounce, every drop of blood and sweat I have in my body. I am going to tan your cowboy ass and make a pair of boots, and I am going to do it without an instant’s hesitation. Mercy is something that I will have no use for. That's not a threat, that's a warning. Because if you look at me the way you've looked at your other opponents? You look down on me and look past me?
I am going to beat your lifeless carcass black and blue and I’m not going to stop beating it until the noises stop, and I am going to leave whatever is left in that ring, staring up at the lights, tears streaming from where its eyes used to be.
Oh, there is no mercy this week, motherfucker.
While you’ve been engaging in your little twitter wars with Johnny Stylez, I’ve had the one thing that you do not want me to have.
I’ve had time.
Time to focus, time to prepare, time to take every ounce of frustration that I have built up after coming so close time and time again and turn it towards someone truly deserving. You and me this week? This is not a match.
This is therapy.
Because you now have the honor and privilege of being the man who I get to take out every single bit of anger, of rage, of frustration that has been building in me for months, and turn you inside out!
And do you want to know why?
Teo laughs, a wicked sound from deep within his lungs, a broken and bitter sound, cascading forth like a waterfall and crashing off of the dunes of the desert, echoing back and forth until it seems to envelop everything, a vicious and animalistic sound.
Teo Blaze: Fuck why.
You remember who.
When I say that I have a blaze within me, it’s not a fucking metaphor.
It’s not an artistic flourish.
This fire is who I am. This flame within me is a passion, a drive to push myself to the very edge of durability, of strength, to defy odds and accomplish feats that any rational human being would call impossible!
Rational…
Teo lets out a chuckle, as though he is practically spitting the word out of his mouth.
Teo Blaze: Rationality is a weakness. Sanity is an excuse. When I say I have a blaze inside of me, I speak of a primal, irrational force. A yearning desire, a drive that calls out for me to destroy. To devour! Everything I see. To turn each and every opponent into fuel to stoke an inferno! When you step into the ring with me, you are not an opponent. You are kindling.
I am not even saying that it is your fault, Beau. After all, you did not choose to be born with that last name. You did not ask to be given that brand, to spit in my face each and every time you’re allowed to walk down the ramp.
And you see...that right there? That is the part that drives me the most insane. You probably think that because you were born into something, that because you just happened to win some kind of genetic lottery that you are able to lay claim to something that means everything to me.
But that’s the difference, Beau. Between you and me. The reason that I am going to fight with every ounce of effort in my body this week to hold onto that name. Because I did not have that name handed to me.
I had to earn it.
I had to earn it with each and every helpless face I drove my knee into, every dream I’ve shattered, every career I’ve ended, every time I’ve swung a chair, every time I’ve driven a man through a table. Every time just like Uprising, when I was carried to the back on a stretcher, and had every reason, every excuse to let myself slip into mediocrity, to take the easy way out, and every time I’ve pushed myself back to my feet to fight through the pain until I have absolutely nothing left to give.
That is why my name is Teo Blaze. Because that flame that burns within me can never go out.
To you, it is a name. It is something that you have lived with your whole life.
But you have never understood what it means, Beau.
You have never felt what it is to be at your absolute limit, to be pushed to a point that you didn’t even know you were capable of. For your eyes to be swollen, your heart pounding, and every single cell in your body begging, pleading with you to slip away, to let it be enough to survive. To say that you went further than anyone thought you could.
And for that feeling, deep inside to erupt. For that blaze to take hold of you, to give you strength you never knew you had.
And in that moment, all you can feel, all that you can imagine is seeing the person standing across from you destroyed. Burned to the fucking ground.
Teo slowly reaches up, his hands moving deliberately as his sandy hair blows in the desert breeze. With a deliberate motion, he slowly removes his sunglasses.
Teo Blaze: Look into my eyes, Beau.
Teo’s stare is deep, almost unimaginably focused, no twitch of motion, no hesitation or flinch. Merely the unearthly focus of a man who has only one single goal on his mind, one thought consuming his very being, one image playing itself in his head over and over again.
And deep within his eyes, there is an eerie, unearthly shine, perhaps the reflection of light from the sun, but perhaps something more.
Teo Blaze: I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you. When I say there is a fire within me, you might take it that fire is what I use to win. That calling on that blaze is what makes me who I am, that fire is the reason that I can call myself a former World Champion.
But Beau, pay attention to what I say next, because it could save your worthless life.
When I am in that ring, it takes everything I can to hold that fire back.
What you see between those ropes is only a small fraction of what I am capable of. Of just how far I am willing to go.
But this week? Someone has threatened to take that fire away from me. Someone has dangled a World Title Shot at the risk of the very thing that defines me.
But Beau, right now, I could give a damn.
Because I will never let someone as worthless, as self-centered, and as egotistical as you have the chance to say that you took something from me.
I will not let someone as delusional and selfish as you believing that you have any! Right to compare yourself to me in the same fucking sentence.
Someone who spent weeks bragging about meaningless victories over the ghost of Zombie McMorris and Johnny Stylez, a man who barely gave enough of a damn to show up at All-In.
Someone who relies on technicalities to claim victories over others, or claims to be unbeatable.
You have no right to call yourself a Blaze.
You’re not even a spark.
You are a dime-a-dozen, excuse for a professional wrestler in a dollar store cowboy hat, and the only, I repeat only! Reason that you are in this match is because you have something in common with me.
And when I go on to the elimination chamber, when I beat you in the center of that ring in front of the world and expose you for the talentless loser that you truly are, you won’t even have that to comfort you.
So Beau, I want you to try and enjoy this week.
Because I’m going to show you what the name Blaze truly means.
And as you lay, staring at those lights, looking up at the paramedics, who are checking you over, asking you not to move as they put the brace on,
And you ignore their orders to crane your neck and look at me, standing over you, staring you directly in the face, and you finally realize just what it means for someone to have a wild blaze inside them…
You will look up at me and you will ask me to forgive you, to let your mistake die with the pitiful imitation of a surname that you saddled yourself with.
And you know what? When I see you in that moment, broken, all illusions shattered, finally forced to face the fact that you failed? That in wearing the name “Blaze” you set yourself up for a downfall you could never have seen coming...I think that then, and only then...that’s when I’ll say…
Teo chuckles, placing the glasses back on the bridge of his nose as his face breaks into a twisted and sideways grin.
Teo Blaze: Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on.
There’s only room for one Blaze in Action Wrestling.
And you were never it.
Teo smiles, turning his back towards the camera as he stares out along the sandy desert floor.
===
Epilogue:
As the scene slowly comes into view for the final time, what greets the viewer is a rather unusual sight. A small, very well furnished office is plainly visible, but rather than the sounds of keyboards or interoffice chatter, people opening and closing doors, all that there is in the office is the pale light of the moon coming through the blinds.
However, the silence of the room does not last long, as the empty office is suddenly filled with a long and familiar beep, the beep of an answering machine. After a few moments of silence, the office is suddenly filled with a voice now all-too familiar to the viewer.
Teo Blaze (answering machine): Hello there, Camila. We haven’t spoken in a while, but I just wanted to go ahead and let you know that I see the little game you’re playing. My assistant tells me that it’s a tactic to motivate me, that forcing me to put my name on the line is a way of bringing me to my full potential.
Well, if that truly is the case, there’s a phrase that you need to be reminded of… “Be careful what you wish for.”
Because Camila, what happens this week to Beau? What I do to him?
That’s on you.
When his family comes and calls Action Wrestling, demanding to know who it is that put their son in the hospital? They’ll be knocking at your door.
I am going to that elimination chamber, even if I have to play your twisted little game to do it.
But I'm playing for keeps.
To paraphrase Shakespeare, “What’s in a name? A Blaze by any other name would still be a Blaze…”
But you know that Beau and I are two different beasts.
I am a wolf that long ago watched his pack abandon him one by one.
Beau is a sacrificial lamb.
So just know this, Camila.
I hope that this is what you wanted.
Because I am going to make sure that nobody forgets it.
So next time, you might think twice before turning me on somebody.
It might save a life.
*click*
As the voice slowly falls silent, the camera slowly hangs on the machine, now beeping red to show that there is a new message, before slowly panning out to hang on the shining moon.
The voice echoed from somewhere deep inside the house, and despite the language, the tone in which it was delivered said far more than the words themselves ever could. The voice that came from within the house issued forth its declaration in a tone that could best be described as a mix between incredulity and disgust, and as the young Action Wrestling executive walked towards the front door, he knew that he would have to have a long and tense conversation with-
CRASH!!
All at once, his train of thought was derailed by a harsh and destructive sound, the soft tinkle of broken glass as though smashed by a hammer, followed by a sound of crunching plastic and a vague electrical squeal.
He looked over to his left, where now, beneath a very much shattered window, laid a very familiar looking laptop, smashed into several pieces by a collision with a garden gnome.
That did not bode well.
===
The room was dark, as was often the case. Truth be told, Teo had let it fall somewhat into disrepair. It was a small property, several randomly assorted rooms with alleys on either side just big enough to fit a trash can. Teo had bought the little house with the money Action Wrestling had used to buy out his WCF contract. The deal had flown over his head, but a lawyer had called him and informed him of the terms of his new employment. “The check was in the mail.”
While he had to admit it was nice to be able to come home to an actual house instead of a hotel room, he had hardly been allowed the time to enjoy it. Days off came rarely in the wrestling business, and he had prided himself for years on not allowing himself the luxury of comfort.
But still, the room was dark. The table lamps darkened, the windows on the side of the house blocked by the property on the other side. It was an oppressive darkness. And as Teo sat in front of his laptop, awaiting the announcement of his next match, he could only reflect in silence on just how little reward he had received. He had come within literal inches of the All-In briefcase, had his hands placed on its metal casing...but at the last moment he had faltered. An instantaneous slip-up, and it was back to the drawing board once again.
But he had to believe. He knew that his journey in Action Wrestling would not be an easy one, and that there was always room to keep improving, to keep refining his craft. Strength, after all, came only through failure. That was the lesson he had taken from WCF, that he could never allow himself to be defeated, that no matter how many failures he had to live through, he would endure. All that was left was to see what the future had in store.
*ding*
“You’ve got mail!”
And as he stared at the laptop, the smile began to fade, to dip, to shift. First into a look of confusion, then one of disbelief…
But finally, his eyebrows curled downward, his teeth began to come together, to grind off of one another, and his hands began to clench, and then shake. His breath became tight, practically steaming out of his nostrils.
And it was at this moment that the laptop lost purchase with the earth and began to defy gravity, hurtling towards the covered window on the front of the house.
===
Teo Blaze: Let me say it again, so the whole world can hear it.
Assistant: Well, I don’t think that’s nec-
Teo Blaze: Are you. Fucking! Kidding me??
Assistant: Keep your voice down! The neighbors will-
Teo Blaze: Fuck my neighbors! Yes, Agnes, even you! Stop looking in my window!
Across the street, a pair of curtains is quickly drawn shut with a whoosh.
Teo Blaze: So you’re telling me that just because some half-baked, talentless nobody takes it upon himself to use my last name, that suddenly I’m having to fight for the right to use that name? That my very identity is being wagered on the petty whim of that shrew putting the show together?!
Assistant: I know you’re upset, but-
Teo Blaze: Oh no, you don’t know a goddamned thing about upset! You think you know what it means to be angry? To be wronged? To be insulted? Someone up there just made the kind of mistake that they invented cover-ups for!
As Teo is speaking, he reaches over to the kitchen counter, snatching a meat tenderizer from off the wall. With a roar, he slams it against one of the kitchen cabinets, sending splinters flying in every direction as his assistant recoils from the impact.
Teo Blaze: Do you think this name is a cute little moniker? Something I chose out of the blue because it sounded cool? Do you think that I take my identity so lightly, that I think so little of myself?
Teo reaches out with his left hand, the muscles of his arm bulging from the sleeves of his white T-shirt. He grabs the faucet of the kitchen sink, pulling as hard as he can. With a moan and a creak of tortured plumbing, the entire fixture rips off of the counter! Teo hurls it as hard as he can across the room, where it sticks into the drywall like a dart.
Assistant: Come on, Teo! What good will destroying your own property do?
Teo Blaze: I could give a damn about property!
As if to emphasize his point, Teo slams his sneaker against one of the lower row of cabinets. The sneaker goes through the wood like tissue paper.
Teo Blaze: This house is mine to do with as I please! If I choose to burn the damn thing down, that’s my choice, because it’s mine!
Assistant: But, but-
Teo Blaze: And the Blaze name does not belong to Action Wrestling, it does not belong to Torture, it doesn’t belong to Camila, and it damned sure doesn’t belong to that dimestore knock-off wannabe “Walker, Texas Ranger” either!
Teo stomps across the linoleum floor to the screen door leading to the backyard, slamming his knee into the handle, which practically flies off of the frame as the door is knocked open. With the same unflinching look of determination, he steps into the unmowed grass, holding his hands out at both sides and letting loose a scream of frustration, a howling and vicious sound that seems to echo throughout the cloudless blue sky.
His breathing is labored, his entire body shaking, every inch crying out for him to continue his destruction, to reach out and grab anything nearby, anything that he can tear down, can break.
But as his fists clench tighter and tighter, his eyes virtually glowing with emotion, his breathing begins to slow, his chest expanding and contracting more slowly, his head craning forward as his eyes slowly close.
An eerie, almost unnatural calm begins to fall over the backyard. Even the local wildlife seems frozen, afraid to move for fear of provoking the red-lensed monster that now stands in the yard.
All is silence.
But it is not a peaceful silence.
It is the silence that comes before a storm.
...After a few moments, Teo finally opens his mouth. The voice that comes forth no longer displays the fury that lies beneath. It echoes forth with the kind of calm that can only come from a place beyond anger, from a mind that has focused every single thought on one singular purpose.
Teo Blaze: Well then. If that’s how they want it, then so be it.
Behind him, the sheepish face of the young executive can be seen, his suit disheveled and wet, splinters in his perfectly coiffed hair. The young man seems to want to say something, but thinks better of it, merely waiting for the next words.
Teo Blaze: Come on, we’ve got work to do.
As he turns, his fist clenches one final time, and the wooden handle of the meat tenderizer snaps in half in his grip, either end falling to the grass beneath his feet. As Blaze returns to the kitchen, the camera hangs on the splintered and shattered wood.
===
The scene has changed dramatically from the previous day. Where previously the viewer had found themselves in a rather quaint, if small suburban neighborhood, where they now sit could not be further from such a place.
For miles and miles, bright orange sand is all that can be seen. From tall, dune-like piles, to sunblasted and cracked memories of riverbeds, the sights and sounds of an empty desert floor are all that there is to greet the traveler to such a place. Pale, bleached bones and disheveled cacti dot the landscape, the only break from the seemingly endless stretch of emptiness.
But if there was one defining trait, one absolute hallmark of the scene, it would be the heat. Even without being physically present, the overwhelming and sweltering temperature is a palpable presence for anyone who lays eyes. Radiating off of the sands, almost shimmering against the cloudless blue sky.
And standing among the heat, flesh caked with dirt and sweat, in only a beaten up set of blue jeans and a pair of bright red sunglasses, stands Teo Blaze. His arms are held out to either side, the scars of his matches laid bare for any who care to see, the deep red cuts and deep bruises only becoming more clear under the harsh sunlight. The sand blows over his bare feet as the desert wind catches the grains in its grasp.
With a long and deliberate sigh, Teo slowly opens his eyes, staring directly into the camera as his mouth opens.
Teo Blaze: Tell me Beau. I know you are from Texas, you take such fucking pride in it.
Have you ever seen a brush fire on the desert floor?
Tell me Beau.
Have you ever seen a wild Blaze?
Teo begins walking forward, leaving footprints in the hot sand with every step. His motion is focused, every step seeming to be thought out as he takes it.
Teo Blaze: Let me tell you a little secret, Beau, because it occurs to me that somewhere beneath that cowboy hat in that rotten piece of shit you call a brain, that you might actually think you have a chance in this match.
That somewhere, deep within your subconscious, there is a little voice rattling around, a little defiant man telling you that you have even the slightest chance of victory this week.
You’d do best to squash that voice right this second before it gets you hurt.
Because this week? There will be no fucking around.
This week, Beau, I am going to step into that ring, and I am going to come at you with every ounce, every drop of blood and sweat I have in my body. I am going to tan your cowboy ass and make a pair of boots, and I am going to do it without an instant’s hesitation. Mercy is something that I will have no use for. That's not a threat, that's a warning. Because if you look at me the way you've looked at your other opponents? You look down on me and look past me?
I am going to beat your lifeless carcass black and blue and I’m not going to stop beating it until the noises stop, and I am going to leave whatever is left in that ring, staring up at the lights, tears streaming from where its eyes used to be.
Oh, there is no mercy this week, motherfucker.
While you’ve been engaging in your little twitter wars with Johnny Stylez, I’ve had the one thing that you do not want me to have.
I’ve had time.
Time to focus, time to prepare, time to take every ounce of frustration that I have built up after coming so close time and time again and turn it towards someone truly deserving. You and me this week? This is not a match.
This is therapy.
Because you now have the honor and privilege of being the man who I get to take out every single bit of anger, of rage, of frustration that has been building in me for months, and turn you inside out!
And do you want to know why?
Teo laughs, a wicked sound from deep within his lungs, a broken and bitter sound, cascading forth like a waterfall and crashing off of the dunes of the desert, echoing back and forth until it seems to envelop everything, a vicious and animalistic sound.
Teo Blaze: Fuck why.
You remember who.
When I say that I have a blaze within me, it’s not a fucking metaphor.
It’s not an artistic flourish.
This fire is who I am. This flame within me is a passion, a drive to push myself to the very edge of durability, of strength, to defy odds and accomplish feats that any rational human being would call impossible!
Rational…
Teo lets out a chuckle, as though he is practically spitting the word out of his mouth.
Teo Blaze: Rationality is a weakness. Sanity is an excuse. When I say I have a blaze inside of me, I speak of a primal, irrational force. A yearning desire, a drive that calls out for me to destroy. To devour! Everything I see. To turn each and every opponent into fuel to stoke an inferno! When you step into the ring with me, you are not an opponent. You are kindling.
I am not even saying that it is your fault, Beau. After all, you did not choose to be born with that last name. You did not ask to be given that brand, to spit in my face each and every time you’re allowed to walk down the ramp.
And you see...that right there? That is the part that drives me the most insane. You probably think that because you were born into something, that because you just happened to win some kind of genetic lottery that you are able to lay claim to something that means everything to me.
But that’s the difference, Beau. Between you and me. The reason that I am going to fight with every ounce of effort in my body this week to hold onto that name. Because I did not have that name handed to me.
I had to earn it.
I had to earn it with each and every helpless face I drove my knee into, every dream I’ve shattered, every career I’ve ended, every time I’ve swung a chair, every time I’ve driven a man through a table. Every time just like Uprising, when I was carried to the back on a stretcher, and had every reason, every excuse to let myself slip into mediocrity, to take the easy way out, and every time I’ve pushed myself back to my feet to fight through the pain until I have absolutely nothing left to give.
That is why my name is Teo Blaze. Because that flame that burns within me can never go out.
To you, it is a name. It is something that you have lived with your whole life.
But you have never understood what it means, Beau.
You have never felt what it is to be at your absolute limit, to be pushed to a point that you didn’t even know you were capable of. For your eyes to be swollen, your heart pounding, and every single cell in your body begging, pleading with you to slip away, to let it be enough to survive. To say that you went further than anyone thought you could.
And for that feeling, deep inside to erupt. For that blaze to take hold of you, to give you strength you never knew you had.
And in that moment, all you can feel, all that you can imagine is seeing the person standing across from you destroyed. Burned to the fucking ground.
Teo slowly reaches up, his hands moving deliberately as his sandy hair blows in the desert breeze. With a deliberate motion, he slowly removes his sunglasses.
Teo Blaze: Look into my eyes, Beau.
Teo’s stare is deep, almost unimaginably focused, no twitch of motion, no hesitation or flinch. Merely the unearthly focus of a man who has only one single goal on his mind, one thought consuming his very being, one image playing itself in his head over and over again.
And deep within his eyes, there is an eerie, unearthly shine, perhaps the reflection of light from the sun, but perhaps something more.
Teo Blaze: I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you. When I say there is a fire within me, you might take it that fire is what I use to win. That calling on that blaze is what makes me who I am, that fire is the reason that I can call myself a former World Champion.
But Beau, pay attention to what I say next, because it could save your worthless life.
When I am in that ring, it takes everything I can to hold that fire back.
What you see between those ropes is only a small fraction of what I am capable of. Of just how far I am willing to go.
But this week? Someone has threatened to take that fire away from me. Someone has dangled a World Title Shot at the risk of the very thing that defines me.
But Beau, right now, I could give a damn.
Because I will never let someone as worthless, as self-centered, and as egotistical as you have the chance to say that you took something from me.
I will not let someone as delusional and selfish as you believing that you have any! Right to compare yourself to me in the same fucking sentence.
Someone who spent weeks bragging about meaningless victories over the ghost of Zombie McMorris and Johnny Stylez, a man who barely gave enough of a damn to show up at All-In.
Someone who relies on technicalities to claim victories over others, or claims to be unbeatable.
You have no right to call yourself a Blaze.
You’re not even a spark.
You are a dime-a-dozen, excuse for a professional wrestler in a dollar store cowboy hat, and the only, I repeat only! Reason that you are in this match is because you have something in common with me.
And when I go on to the elimination chamber, when I beat you in the center of that ring in front of the world and expose you for the talentless loser that you truly are, you won’t even have that to comfort you.
So Beau, I want you to try and enjoy this week.
Because I’m going to show you what the name Blaze truly means.
And as you lay, staring at those lights, looking up at the paramedics, who are checking you over, asking you not to move as they put the brace on,
And you ignore their orders to crane your neck and look at me, standing over you, staring you directly in the face, and you finally realize just what it means for someone to have a wild blaze inside them…
You will look up at me and you will ask me to forgive you, to let your mistake die with the pitiful imitation of a surname that you saddled yourself with.
And you know what? When I see you in that moment, broken, all illusions shattered, finally forced to face the fact that you failed? That in wearing the name “Blaze” you set yourself up for a downfall you could never have seen coming...I think that then, and only then...that’s when I’ll say…
Teo chuckles, placing the glasses back on the bridge of his nose as his face breaks into a twisted and sideways grin.
Teo Blaze: Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on.
There’s only room for one Blaze in Action Wrestling.
And you were never it.
Teo smiles, turning his back towards the camera as he stares out along the sandy desert floor.
===
Epilogue:
As the scene slowly comes into view for the final time, what greets the viewer is a rather unusual sight. A small, very well furnished office is plainly visible, but rather than the sounds of keyboards or interoffice chatter, people opening and closing doors, all that there is in the office is the pale light of the moon coming through the blinds.
However, the silence of the room does not last long, as the empty office is suddenly filled with a long and familiar beep, the beep of an answering machine. After a few moments of silence, the office is suddenly filled with a voice now all-too familiar to the viewer.
Teo Blaze (answering machine): Hello there, Camila. We haven’t spoken in a while, but I just wanted to go ahead and let you know that I see the little game you’re playing. My assistant tells me that it’s a tactic to motivate me, that forcing me to put my name on the line is a way of bringing me to my full potential.
Well, if that truly is the case, there’s a phrase that you need to be reminded of… “Be careful what you wish for.”
Because Camila, what happens this week to Beau? What I do to him?
That’s on you.
When his family comes and calls Action Wrestling, demanding to know who it is that put their son in the hospital? They’ll be knocking at your door.
I am going to that elimination chamber, even if I have to play your twisted little game to do it.
But I'm playing for keeps.
To paraphrase Shakespeare, “What’s in a name? A Blaze by any other name would still be a Blaze…”
But you know that Beau and I are two different beasts.
I am a wolf that long ago watched his pack abandon him one by one.
Beau is a sacrificial lamb.
So just know this, Camila.
I hope that this is what you wanted.
Because I am going to make sure that nobody forgets it.
So next time, you might think twice before turning me on somebody.
It might save a life.
*click*
As the voice slowly falls silent, the camera slowly hangs on the machine, now beeping red to show that there is a new message, before slowly panning out to hang on the shining moon.