Post by Lockhart on May 20, 2018 21:54:23 GMT -5
One moment, you’re a drug-riddled, cocaine-addicted teenager. Life revolved around being at the center of the party. Your worth could only be measured by your popularity, your exploits, and the amount of fun other people could have with you. No direction in life, no true overarching goal except the vague idea of being successful, of leaving a mark on the world, of doing something beyond just being yet another mediocre man.
One moment, you’re a failure. Sure, you’ve got all the small stuff sorted. The unimportant, self-gratifying shit that you do to make yourself feel better about the life that you’re living. But deep down? It’s eating at you. The guilt. The remorse. The visions. Grandfather, stabbed before your eyes. Blood leaking. Body falling. He shudders, you feel his cold, ragged breath, as he sadly attempts to cling onto whatever life he has left in him. His eyes show no anger - only sadness. But even then, you know that it was your fault. You were the reason it happened. Sure, everyone played a part in it. But little Lockhart… he played the biggest role of all.
One moment you’re a wanderer. No longer a high schooler with no experience of the real world. Now, you’re on your own. The people you thought would stick around and remain closest to you had all left, gone down a separate path in search of something “better”. It didn’t hurt at the time, you understood why it happened. But it left you confused and left you wondering if maybe, just maybe, it had been something about YOU that had caused it all. And although you couldn’t quite grasp it then, and you still can’t even to this day… there’s a small part of your subconscious that allows that frozen moment in time to play a role in your day to day life. That doubt will never leave you, even if you think it has.
Ryan Lockhart, huh? Living in a small world. A life of trauma. A life of danger. A life of excitement. All of that and more, and yet he still maintained the same casual, almost nonchalant approach to life, one that most people directed themselves away from. Was this just a facade? Looking at the man from afar, it’d be difficult to tell. After all, he keeps his thoughts well hidden. Hardly documents them, hardly even brings them up in conversation. Yet sometimes, you get a glimpse of it. A hint of the underlying emotion that has been pent up from the years of frustration, the years of failure, the years of being nothing but a low-life chump. There’s the desperation in those eyes that only a starving man would know. There’s vigor behind those words that only the most passionate can describe. But time and time again, the same old story plays out.
Ryan Lockhart is just a brawler.
Ryan Lockhart is just a party boy.
Ryan Lockhart can’t be turned into a star.
Ryan Lockhart? Just a typical, happy-go-lucky guy. He’s had his ups and downs, just as everyone else has. There’s no deeper layer to him - he’s just like everyone else. The only difference is, he has wrestling as a platform to let his story be known. Put anyone else in his position, and they’d get the same reception. Put anyone else in his position, and they’d give you a similar sob story, one that would work because it’s relatable.
Anyone can call themselves “The Curse” and use it to propel themselves into superstardom.
So then, what makes Ryan so special? I wonder.
The Aftermath of Havoc… shall be interesting.
He signed on the dotted line, and that had been that. A full-time contract that officially solidified him as a mainstay with Action Wrestling for the foreseeable future. Guaranteed money, a guaranteed appearance every week, including every pay-per-view. Now, he could work toward advancing his career, his legacy, and that of his family. With the new income, he could offer help to everyone he cared about. Finally, something he could truly focus on, without any outside distraction. There were no excuses now. He had made it to the big leagues, and he was there to stay.
He exited the Action Wrestling Office with a heavy burden lifted from him. There was no pressure anymore to exceed, or even meet, expectations. He had performed his role, and he had done it well. There was nothing left to worry about, except to do what he loved and enjoy it.
This was everything he had been working toward.
So why now, that he had it… did it feel so hollow?
By the time he made it back home, he could only look in the mirror and see what he had become.
A shirt, a tie, a watch, and two empty eyes.
What was missing?
Standing atop a balcony that overlooked the streets of Boston, he flicked a cigarette off of the ledge, allowing the end of it to flutter and fall into the midst of the wind, which carried it elsewhere. He reached out to his left, lightly grasping upon a silver flash which he uncorked, and then proceeded to have a swig from.
Ryan Lockhart smiled toward the camera warmly.
‘What you all thought couldn’t be done, I’ve done. A kid from Boston, a no-hoper, with virtually no prior wrestling experience other than a scrap here and there, and some informal Judo and Jiu-Jitsu training… and here I fuckin’ am.
‘It’s about to get real, people. For the first month or two of my career, you people at Action Wrestling were rather lucky. You didn’t get to see me kick it into my highest gear. While you all… strained and fought valiantly, while you all tried your very hardest, I had to hold myself back.
‘I won’t lie - I never did it on purpose. I won’t pretend that I’m the most committed guy in the world. It’s a vice of mine that I can’t seem to get rid of. Never could quite maintain my utmost attention and loyalty to one specific thing. Whether it be a woman, a craft, a hobby. It was a constant struggle that even to this day I still find trouble with. And that’s exactly why I couldn’t give it my all here. Don’t get me wrong - I wanted to do my fuckin’ best. I wanted to show out and win it all. But there was something lying underneath me that caused me to hesitate at times throughout my short career here. What was it, you ask?’
He sighs.
‘It was the ultimate knowledge that made me aware of my situation… a situation which meant that, if I wasn’t well-liked enough, or didn’t make enough of an impact, I could be out of a job. That’s right. If I had underperformed during my tenure here at Action Wrestling? I’d be out the door, looking for something else to sustain my existence. Naturally, in a situation such as that one, most people would be fiercely determined to prove their worth. And while I can agree with that sentiment, there was also something else poking and prodding at me, something that told me… “Hey, if you don’t try your best, at least you have an excuse for when you fail.”
‘Fear of Failure. It’s a pretty huge thing, right? No-one can escape it, even the most successful of us. For as quick as you can gain your success, it can be snapped right back into failure in an instant. It’s a never-ending doubt, nagging and chewing away at one’s spirit until it eats them whole.’
He points an index finger into his own chance, nodding as he does so.
‘But for me? That fear has been limited now. Whatever was holding me back, whatever reluctance I had at the idea of putting my all into this? It is nothing but dying embers of a fire that has dwindled down to nothingness. With my place in Action Wrestling now secured, with a guaranteed full-time contract… and a solidified spot as one of the top wrestlers on this entire roster? I know that the only direction from here is upwards.
‘Havoc was a minor setback. I entered that match overzealous. I didn’t pick my spots like I said I would. Right out of the gate, two eliminations, just like that. I battle for a while, but I let a veteran and true superstar in Wade Moor get the best of me. We went back and forth, we both landed out shots, and while I should’ve had the advantage due to my late entry position… I blew it. I’m man enough to admit that. Wade had been battling since around entry 20, while I should have had the fresher legs, the stronger will, the greater motivation.
‘But I didn’t. Maybe it was due to that fear of failure I mentioned earlier, or maybe I just wasn’t good enough. Either way, there is work to be done, and with my status in Action Wrestling now secured? You can be damn sure I’m going to put in the work I need to excel here. Not only to be considered a ‘top-level talent’, but a World Champion. An all-time great. That’s the sights that I see before me - I only need to start the journey by taking my first steps into superstardom.’
He now gestures to the camera, spreading his arms wide in a showing of acceptance.
‘And what better way to do that, then come up against Big John Frost and Corey Bull in a main-event match, where myself and Camila Gonzalez will have to team up in order to take down two of the biggest, baddest, and most underwhelming men on the roster.
‘You heard me right, ladies and gentlemen. Underwhelming. Before you cry in outrage, be sure to listen to me very carefully. For after I am done explaining to you why my partner and I will be victorious come Monday, you will understand.
‘Let’s get right to it. When you first look at these two men, you’ll immediately be awed by their raw strength and power, they tower above the competition in almost every way. Their height and sheer size make them menacing and intimidating combatants, and week in and week out, you’ll find that they leave their opposition bruised and battered.
‘But what you’ll also find is that their opponents, more often than not, are the people who also come out as the winners of the match. Both of these big men, for all their size and talk of destruction, aren’t even capable of amassing positive win records during their time here in Action Wrestling. And whilst I understand and acknowledge the fact that winning is everything around here, it’s a prime starting point for your analysis of any competitor.
‘’Corey Bull, for instance, has had a shocking run as of late. In his last six matches, the man has gained only one victory. Losses to Shadowlove, Bonnie Blue, TFK, and hey, even John Frost is in the mix here. The Hatebringer has done nothing but bring his career stock and value down and down every week he competes. And while this doesn’t necessarily mean he is an incompetent athlete or competitor, it makes it clear that there is something wrong with this man’s performances. Something is up, even though he’ll never admit it, for the amount of pride he has rivals even that of his immense size.
‘John Frost is faring a little better, albeit only slightly. He stands at 5-6 currently. With four of those losses coming to the same man, TFK. Perhaps this big man’s weakness it the charming fellas that come out of Boston?’
Ryan grins.
‘Nevertheless, this too exposes the fact that there is something going on here. How can it be that the two men with the biggest natural advantage one could ever have in a sport such as wrestling… be so fuckin’ disappointing when it comes to actually pulling in the results?
‘It’s the Fear of Failure.’
He points to his temple.
‘It’s all up in here, in the mind. Think about it. These two guys ever since they started wrestling here, have done nothing but proclaim that they’re monstrous. They tout themselves as these unstoppable beasts, who do nothing but cause pain and destruction. They give themselves a reputation that they’re still in the midst of creating. I say that they haven’t fully completed the reputation yet… because they’re yet to give us any reason to believe them.
‘I have no doubt that these two are capable of causing great amounts of pain. Hell, after Camila and I win on Monday, I’m expecting that I’m going to need to take a long ice bath, and get a massage after that to help me deal with the pain I’m going to be feeling the next day. But I’m not AFRAID of these two, as many would probably think. The reason for that? I see the internal struggles that they’re going through - the demons that they’re yet to surpass, and I relate to them. I feel sympathetic for them, I feel as though I should help them in some way, even though I know they can’t. Because that war that wages between one’s mind? Only they can save themselves from that type of shit, man.
‘And I would know, because I’ve gone through it. Even now I still sometimes experience it, but it’s all about being resilient and working through it. About bettering oneself and becoming a greater individual. These two? They currently know nothing about that. I don’t blame them for it though, it’s a difficult thing to get a grasp of, and I have no doubt that one day, Bull and Frost will come to a realization that will truly turn them into the “monsters” they both so desperately want to become.
‘But back to my main point. Corey and John… you’ve set the bar way too fuckin’ high, my dudes. Look at yourselves, giving yourself all of these self-proclaimed titles and monikers, yet as soon as you lose, you bitch and you moan and make all the excuses in the world as to why you didn’t win, but then try to defend it by saying: “Oh, but look how much I hurt them! Me strong.”
‘Sorry, but that shit isn’t going to cut it. Not in a world where Ryan Lockhart’s and Wade Moor’s exist, with people that are constantly evolving and improving. Neither of you knows a thing about adapting to the situation at hand, that’s why you both continue to try and pull the same old stuff out of your worn-out bag. Your size? Your strength? Intimidation tactics? That doesn’t work anymore, not now.
‘Take a look at yourself, Frost. Four losses to one man and you’ve done nothing to remedy that sad fact. You ran headlong into the same problem, over and over again, and you came away with nothing. You didn’t change your strategy, you didn’t approach it with a different view. You were like an autistic child attempting to solve a Rubik’s cube for the first time, except you WERE that autistic child on four different occasions. You weren’t only given one opportunity at it.
‘And then there’s you, Corey. You come in guns blazing, taking out Spencer Adams to win that UCI Championship, which you almost immediately rebranded into some other bullshit to try and get yourself over. And what did you do with it? Nothing.
‘This is the Fear of Failure. This is what eats away at the two of you. You overcompensate. You talk a huge game, you enter the ring, you throw some bodies around… but ultimately? You lose. You lose and you lose badly. Time and time again, it continues to happen, and yet neither of you have the mental capacity to come to that understanding and try something different. And that? That’s why you’re going to get fuckin’ humiliated when I step into the ring with you.
‘My tactic here is simple. Although I wasn’t able to demonstrate it as well as I would’ve liked at Havoc - I have some of the best conditioning on the roster. I’m going to run rings around the two of you. Wear you down, tire you out, frustrate you. That’s when you both make ill-advised moves, stupid errors, and mistakes that eventually cost you matches. Once you start doing that? I’ll catch you with a flying knee, a roundhouse, an elbow. Fuck, anything that’ll drop you down to that canvas. Once that happens? It’s game over. Neither of you possesses the ground game that I do. My submissions, my technical ability… while I haven’t been practicing for years on end like some people, I know what I’m doing, and I know how to get the job done. Can either of you say the same? Results from the past would indicate otherwise.
‘But then again, that is the past. Maybe something has changed. Maybe you’ll come at me with something new that I wasn’t expecting, and maybe just maybe, you’ll be able to pull a win over one of the fastest rising stars in the business today…’
A look of mock-realization then dawns over Ryan’s face.
‘Oh wait, but then you realize who I also have in my corner. Camila Gonzalez. Another young superstar with nothing but success awaiting her. Third place in the Rumble to my second. The two of us? We put on a show, and we did it all while being successful. Something that neither of you are capable of attesting to just yet.
‘This shit is over. Done and dusted. Sealed and stamped for approval. If I was just walking into this match with any old schmuck, with perhaps a less gifted, less motivated individual? You may have been able to sneak in the upset victory. But with Gonzalez as my partner? It’s fuckin’ elementary at this point. It isn’t often you’ll find someone as flat-out vicious and active in the ring as me… but she’s damn near close.
‘Sorry, guys. But this one’s over. Catch you boys at your loss.’
One moment, you’re a failure. Sure, you’ve got all the small stuff sorted. The unimportant, self-gratifying shit that you do to make yourself feel better about the life that you’re living. But deep down? It’s eating at you. The guilt. The remorse. The visions. Grandfather, stabbed before your eyes. Blood leaking. Body falling. He shudders, you feel his cold, ragged breath, as he sadly attempts to cling onto whatever life he has left in him. His eyes show no anger - only sadness. But even then, you know that it was your fault. You were the reason it happened. Sure, everyone played a part in it. But little Lockhart… he played the biggest role of all.
One moment you’re a wanderer. No longer a high schooler with no experience of the real world. Now, you’re on your own. The people you thought would stick around and remain closest to you had all left, gone down a separate path in search of something “better”. It didn’t hurt at the time, you understood why it happened. But it left you confused and left you wondering if maybe, just maybe, it had been something about YOU that had caused it all. And although you couldn’t quite grasp it then, and you still can’t even to this day… there’s a small part of your subconscious that allows that frozen moment in time to play a role in your day to day life. That doubt will never leave you, even if you think it has.
Ryan Lockhart, huh? Living in a small world. A life of trauma. A life of danger. A life of excitement. All of that and more, and yet he still maintained the same casual, almost nonchalant approach to life, one that most people directed themselves away from. Was this just a facade? Looking at the man from afar, it’d be difficult to tell. After all, he keeps his thoughts well hidden. Hardly documents them, hardly even brings them up in conversation. Yet sometimes, you get a glimpse of it. A hint of the underlying emotion that has been pent up from the years of frustration, the years of failure, the years of being nothing but a low-life chump. There’s the desperation in those eyes that only a starving man would know. There’s vigor behind those words that only the most passionate can describe. But time and time again, the same old story plays out.
Ryan Lockhart is just a brawler.
Ryan Lockhart is just a party boy.
Ryan Lockhart can’t be turned into a star.
Ryan Lockhart? Just a typical, happy-go-lucky guy. He’s had his ups and downs, just as everyone else has. There’s no deeper layer to him - he’s just like everyone else. The only difference is, he has wrestling as a platform to let his story be known. Put anyone else in his position, and they’d get the same reception. Put anyone else in his position, and they’d give you a similar sob story, one that would work because it’s relatable.
Anyone can call themselves “The Curse” and use it to propel themselves into superstardom.
So then, what makes Ryan so special? I wonder.
The Aftermath of Havoc… shall be interesting.
He signed on the dotted line, and that had been that. A full-time contract that officially solidified him as a mainstay with Action Wrestling for the foreseeable future. Guaranteed money, a guaranteed appearance every week, including every pay-per-view. Now, he could work toward advancing his career, his legacy, and that of his family. With the new income, he could offer help to everyone he cared about. Finally, something he could truly focus on, without any outside distraction. There were no excuses now. He had made it to the big leagues, and he was there to stay.
He exited the Action Wrestling Office with a heavy burden lifted from him. There was no pressure anymore to exceed, or even meet, expectations. He had performed his role, and he had done it well. There was nothing left to worry about, except to do what he loved and enjoy it.
This was everything he had been working toward.
So why now, that he had it… did it feel so hollow?
By the time he made it back home, he could only look in the mirror and see what he had become.
A shirt, a tie, a watch, and two empty eyes.
What was missing?
Standing atop a balcony that overlooked the streets of Boston, he flicked a cigarette off of the ledge, allowing the end of it to flutter and fall into the midst of the wind, which carried it elsewhere. He reached out to his left, lightly grasping upon a silver flash which he uncorked, and then proceeded to have a swig from.
Ryan Lockhart smiled toward the camera warmly.
‘What you all thought couldn’t be done, I’ve done. A kid from Boston, a no-hoper, with virtually no prior wrestling experience other than a scrap here and there, and some informal Judo and Jiu-Jitsu training… and here I fuckin’ am.
‘It’s about to get real, people. For the first month or two of my career, you people at Action Wrestling were rather lucky. You didn’t get to see me kick it into my highest gear. While you all… strained and fought valiantly, while you all tried your very hardest, I had to hold myself back.
‘I won’t lie - I never did it on purpose. I won’t pretend that I’m the most committed guy in the world. It’s a vice of mine that I can’t seem to get rid of. Never could quite maintain my utmost attention and loyalty to one specific thing. Whether it be a woman, a craft, a hobby. It was a constant struggle that even to this day I still find trouble with. And that’s exactly why I couldn’t give it my all here. Don’t get me wrong - I wanted to do my fuckin’ best. I wanted to show out and win it all. But there was something lying underneath me that caused me to hesitate at times throughout my short career here. What was it, you ask?’
He sighs.
‘It was the ultimate knowledge that made me aware of my situation… a situation which meant that, if I wasn’t well-liked enough, or didn’t make enough of an impact, I could be out of a job. That’s right. If I had underperformed during my tenure here at Action Wrestling? I’d be out the door, looking for something else to sustain my existence. Naturally, in a situation such as that one, most people would be fiercely determined to prove their worth. And while I can agree with that sentiment, there was also something else poking and prodding at me, something that told me… “Hey, if you don’t try your best, at least you have an excuse for when you fail.”
‘Fear of Failure. It’s a pretty huge thing, right? No-one can escape it, even the most successful of us. For as quick as you can gain your success, it can be snapped right back into failure in an instant. It’s a never-ending doubt, nagging and chewing away at one’s spirit until it eats them whole.’
He points an index finger into his own chance, nodding as he does so.
‘But for me? That fear has been limited now. Whatever was holding me back, whatever reluctance I had at the idea of putting my all into this? It is nothing but dying embers of a fire that has dwindled down to nothingness. With my place in Action Wrestling now secured, with a guaranteed full-time contract… and a solidified spot as one of the top wrestlers on this entire roster? I know that the only direction from here is upwards.
‘Havoc was a minor setback. I entered that match overzealous. I didn’t pick my spots like I said I would. Right out of the gate, two eliminations, just like that. I battle for a while, but I let a veteran and true superstar in Wade Moor get the best of me. We went back and forth, we both landed out shots, and while I should’ve had the advantage due to my late entry position… I blew it. I’m man enough to admit that. Wade had been battling since around entry 20, while I should have had the fresher legs, the stronger will, the greater motivation.
‘But I didn’t. Maybe it was due to that fear of failure I mentioned earlier, or maybe I just wasn’t good enough. Either way, there is work to be done, and with my status in Action Wrestling now secured? You can be damn sure I’m going to put in the work I need to excel here. Not only to be considered a ‘top-level talent’, but a World Champion. An all-time great. That’s the sights that I see before me - I only need to start the journey by taking my first steps into superstardom.’
He now gestures to the camera, spreading his arms wide in a showing of acceptance.
‘And what better way to do that, then come up against Big John Frost and Corey Bull in a main-event match, where myself and Camila Gonzalez will have to team up in order to take down two of the biggest, baddest, and most underwhelming men on the roster.
‘You heard me right, ladies and gentlemen. Underwhelming. Before you cry in outrage, be sure to listen to me very carefully. For after I am done explaining to you why my partner and I will be victorious come Monday, you will understand.
‘Let’s get right to it. When you first look at these two men, you’ll immediately be awed by their raw strength and power, they tower above the competition in almost every way. Their height and sheer size make them menacing and intimidating combatants, and week in and week out, you’ll find that they leave their opposition bruised and battered.
‘But what you’ll also find is that their opponents, more often than not, are the people who also come out as the winners of the match. Both of these big men, for all their size and talk of destruction, aren’t even capable of amassing positive win records during their time here in Action Wrestling. And whilst I understand and acknowledge the fact that winning is everything around here, it’s a prime starting point for your analysis of any competitor.
‘’Corey Bull, for instance, has had a shocking run as of late. In his last six matches, the man has gained only one victory. Losses to Shadowlove, Bonnie Blue, TFK, and hey, even John Frost is in the mix here. The Hatebringer has done nothing but bring his career stock and value down and down every week he competes. And while this doesn’t necessarily mean he is an incompetent athlete or competitor, it makes it clear that there is something wrong with this man’s performances. Something is up, even though he’ll never admit it, for the amount of pride he has rivals even that of his immense size.
‘John Frost is faring a little better, albeit only slightly. He stands at 5-6 currently. With four of those losses coming to the same man, TFK. Perhaps this big man’s weakness it the charming fellas that come out of Boston?’
Ryan grins.
‘Nevertheless, this too exposes the fact that there is something going on here. How can it be that the two men with the biggest natural advantage one could ever have in a sport such as wrestling… be so fuckin’ disappointing when it comes to actually pulling in the results?
‘It’s the Fear of Failure.’
He points to his temple.
‘It’s all up in here, in the mind. Think about it. These two guys ever since they started wrestling here, have done nothing but proclaim that they’re monstrous. They tout themselves as these unstoppable beasts, who do nothing but cause pain and destruction. They give themselves a reputation that they’re still in the midst of creating. I say that they haven’t fully completed the reputation yet… because they’re yet to give us any reason to believe them.
‘I have no doubt that these two are capable of causing great amounts of pain. Hell, after Camila and I win on Monday, I’m expecting that I’m going to need to take a long ice bath, and get a massage after that to help me deal with the pain I’m going to be feeling the next day. But I’m not AFRAID of these two, as many would probably think. The reason for that? I see the internal struggles that they’re going through - the demons that they’re yet to surpass, and I relate to them. I feel sympathetic for them, I feel as though I should help them in some way, even though I know they can’t. Because that war that wages between one’s mind? Only they can save themselves from that type of shit, man.
‘And I would know, because I’ve gone through it. Even now I still sometimes experience it, but it’s all about being resilient and working through it. About bettering oneself and becoming a greater individual. These two? They currently know nothing about that. I don’t blame them for it though, it’s a difficult thing to get a grasp of, and I have no doubt that one day, Bull and Frost will come to a realization that will truly turn them into the “monsters” they both so desperately want to become.
‘But back to my main point. Corey and John… you’ve set the bar way too fuckin’ high, my dudes. Look at yourselves, giving yourself all of these self-proclaimed titles and monikers, yet as soon as you lose, you bitch and you moan and make all the excuses in the world as to why you didn’t win, but then try to defend it by saying: “Oh, but look how much I hurt them! Me strong.”
‘Sorry, but that shit isn’t going to cut it. Not in a world where Ryan Lockhart’s and Wade Moor’s exist, with people that are constantly evolving and improving. Neither of you knows a thing about adapting to the situation at hand, that’s why you both continue to try and pull the same old stuff out of your worn-out bag. Your size? Your strength? Intimidation tactics? That doesn’t work anymore, not now.
‘Take a look at yourself, Frost. Four losses to one man and you’ve done nothing to remedy that sad fact. You ran headlong into the same problem, over and over again, and you came away with nothing. You didn’t change your strategy, you didn’t approach it with a different view. You were like an autistic child attempting to solve a Rubik’s cube for the first time, except you WERE that autistic child on four different occasions. You weren’t only given one opportunity at it.
‘And then there’s you, Corey. You come in guns blazing, taking out Spencer Adams to win that UCI Championship, which you almost immediately rebranded into some other bullshit to try and get yourself over. And what did you do with it? Nothing.
‘This is the Fear of Failure. This is what eats away at the two of you. You overcompensate. You talk a huge game, you enter the ring, you throw some bodies around… but ultimately? You lose. You lose and you lose badly. Time and time again, it continues to happen, and yet neither of you have the mental capacity to come to that understanding and try something different. And that? That’s why you’re going to get fuckin’ humiliated when I step into the ring with you.
‘My tactic here is simple. Although I wasn’t able to demonstrate it as well as I would’ve liked at Havoc - I have some of the best conditioning on the roster. I’m going to run rings around the two of you. Wear you down, tire you out, frustrate you. That’s when you both make ill-advised moves, stupid errors, and mistakes that eventually cost you matches. Once you start doing that? I’ll catch you with a flying knee, a roundhouse, an elbow. Fuck, anything that’ll drop you down to that canvas. Once that happens? It’s game over. Neither of you possesses the ground game that I do. My submissions, my technical ability… while I haven’t been practicing for years on end like some people, I know what I’m doing, and I know how to get the job done. Can either of you say the same? Results from the past would indicate otherwise.
‘But then again, that is the past. Maybe something has changed. Maybe you’ll come at me with something new that I wasn’t expecting, and maybe just maybe, you’ll be able to pull a win over one of the fastest rising stars in the business today…’
A look of mock-realization then dawns over Ryan’s face.
‘Oh wait, but then you realize who I also have in my corner. Camila Gonzalez. Another young superstar with nothing but success awaiting her. Third place in the Rumble to my second. The two of us? We put on a show, and we did it all while being successful. Something that neither of you are capable of attesting to just yet.
‘This shit is over. Done and dusted. Sealed and stamped for approval. If I was just walking into this match with any old schmuck, with perhaps a less gifted, less motivated individual? You may have been able to sneak in the upset victory. But with Gonzalez as my partner? It’s fuckin’ elementary at this point. It isn’t often you’ll find someone as flat-out vicious and active in the ring as me… but she’s damn near close.
‘Sorry, guys. But this one’s over. Catch you boys at your loss.’