“Parables of the Deep: A Summit”
Jun 3, 2018 10:05:38 GMT -5
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Roy Speede, Bonnie Blue, and 1 more like this
Post by Wade Moor on Jun 3, 2018 10:05:38 GMT -5
The sun started to set over the beachfront restaurant, reflecting amber off the steady sea. Wade sat at a reserved table with three open seats, one for each guest he had invited - though he wasn’t positive if any of them were going to show up. He sipped on his Bloody Mary as his mind unconsciously drifted back to that night in the alley. He recalled every detail perfectly, all the way up to the mysterious stranger witnessing everything that had happened. He tried to imagine who it could be, trying to visualize that familiar aura that haunted him there.
His first thought was that it had to be Bonnie, but he never mistook her for the stalker archetype. She seemed emboldened by the experience, using the pain to propel her to a Tag Team Championship victory with David Sanchez in WCF and a shot at the UCI Championship here in Action Wrestling. If it were her, he would have been certain of it, but a voice in the back of his head told him that it wasn’t.
‘So who could it be?’ Jared spoke from within.
‘I have no clue’, Wade replied, ‘I can’t think straight right now.’
‘You need to get your head screwed on, Wade’ Jared scolded, ‘You’re slipping. You let Spencer Adams and his #beachkrew clones get one up on you at Clash.’
‘That wasn’t my fault’, Wade angrily replied.
‘Don’t play the victim’, Jared said, ‘You can’t blame this on anyone but yourself. You let your guard down and Spencer capitalized.’
“Trust me”, Wade replied aloud, “I won’t let it happen again.”
“Let what happen again?” a voice asked from behind him.
Wades head spun on a swivel and the recognizable sight of Roy Speede greeted him.
“Oh nothing”, Wade replied, “Just sending a text.”
He stood to greet him, holding his hand out for Speede to shake. He hesitated, only for a moment, but then greeted Wade with a firm handshake as if they were old hat friends.
“Roy, brother”, Wade said, “I wasn’t exactly sure if you were going to show.”
Roy chuckled, naturally rosy, but you could tell his war with his old friend Deruty was beginning to take its toll on him. Dark circles dropped underneath his eyelids, Wade could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well, a feeling he was acquainted with as well.
“I guess we don’t exactly know each other”, Roy replied, “But I figured that maybe this was the perfect opportunity considering we’re teaming together this week.”
“A perfect opportunity then, indeed”, Wade replied, “I have a pretty good track record against #FightSmart, and from my experience with them already, we’re going to have to be on the same page this week. Not only do we have our opponents to focus on, but you can be damn sure the rest of #FightSmart will be ringside like the pack of brainless, heathen, jackals they are. Spencer will make sure of that.”
“I hate those assholes”, Roy Speede replied, “So I have to agree. Spencer’s flunkies may not be the best and brightest, but Adams himself knows how to formulate a plan. I underestimated him in my rematch for the World Championship and he took advantage. I still see him standing there, holding that World Championship up like he actually deserved it.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll make him pay dearly this week”, Wade replied, “You’re a smart man, you won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“You bet your ass I won’t”, Roy pronounced.
The waiter came by and took Speede’s drink order as the two continued their conversation.
“So what’s life like for Wade Moor outside of the Action Wrestling ring?” Roy asked, obviously trying to get his mind off whatever was plaguing him.
“Nothing fantastic”, Wade lied.
Wade wasn’t sure the troubles of his life wouldn’t distract Roy more than they would just add to his own. He told him mundane stories, he spoke about his break up with Bonnie, omitting the obvious important details. Roy didn’t need to know anything like that, they just needed to focus on their match at Clash this week. As Wade was telling him how excited he was for Evolution, the loud clatter of a tray crashing to the ground sounded from inside.
“Sir...you can’t come in here dressed like that”, a male voice spoke inside the patio door.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the booming voice of Gravedigger replied, “I own this joint! I’ll have your job, shit for brains!”
Gravedigger, the shrewd entre-fuckin-preneur he was, produced credentials that made the man quiver in his non slips.
“I’m sorry sir”, the man pleaded, “I had no idea.”
“That’s even more insulting”, Gravedigger boasted, “But I’m a semi-forgiving man. How many Michelin stars do you have?”
“None sir”, the manager replied.
“Then get the hell out of my restaurant!” Gravedigger shouted.
“Looks like Gravediggers making friends”, Roy Speede said, laughing as he did.
Wade shrugged. Gravedigger appointed some lowly server to manager of his five star establishment as he walked out on the patio, decked in full biker garb, MS13 cut all the way on. Wade was surprised he didn’t arrive with his whole posse, more surprised that he even arrived at all, but he wasn’t shocked. He knew Gravedigger owned the restaurant and couldn’t resist coming to a place that stroked his ego a little, a place that reminded him of how far he had risen from the muck and shit.
“God damn boys”, Gravedigger said as he walked towards the table, “Feels good to be back.”
Wade stood and shook his hand, then Speede next. Gravedigger called for a bucket of beers, he didn’t care what, just not any of that pussy shit. He sat in the chair, kicked it back against the railing, and propped his boots up on the table.
“You’re not short on enemies, are you?” Wade asked, pointing to the door.
“I crossed that bitch up like his name was Bishop”, Gravedigger scoffed, laughing in his throat, “You’ll see, I haven’t lost a step. This everyone?”
“You heard from Torture?” Roy asked.
“He’s been incommunicado this past week”, Gravedigger replied, “It is his birthday though so he’s probably busy. What did you ask us here for anyways?”
“I’m curious too”, Roy interjected.
“You seriously worried about a couple of jobbers on a Monday Night Clash?”, Gravedigger asked, “You’re the number one contender, sack up.”
“I’m not worried about our opponents”, Wade replied, “I’m worried about the rest of #FightSmart, those jackals surrounding the ring. Last week they proved they would do anything to alleviate Spencer’s fear of losing the World Championship, even if it means taking the bullet for him.”
“I can arrange to have a few...people ringside”, Gravedigger replied, “If it would put your mind at ease.”
“No, we can handle it”, Wade replied, “We just have to fight smarter than them, which shouldn’t be too hard considering they’re mostly illiterates.”
“What’s the plan then?” Speede replied, “I think I have a pretty fair idea.”
“I think #FightSmart is counting on the fact that we won’t have eyes for anybody but our opponents for Evolution”, Wade replied, “We’ll just subvert their expectations. They may bolster brains but they’re as predictable as the tide. And believe me, it’s coming in hot and dark.”
“Are you seriously asking us to simply control our emotions for a single match?” a voice spoke from next to them.
The latest - and last - arrival Torture now stands by the table, dressed to the nines, presumably coming right from one of his meetings with road agents, talent scouts, or the like. He removes a pair of DuderBro shades and sets them down on the table, taking his seat next to Speede.
“Shouldn’t be too difficult”, Wade replied.
“You don’t really know Chase Jackson then”, Torture stated, “He’s going to do everything he can to get inside of my head and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop him.”
“It’s Chase Jackson”, Wade replied, “Get a grip on this situation. Are you fucking Torture or not?! You had like a nine year winning streak.”
“I was younger”, Torture replied, “Dumber. I had way less to lose, or so I thought. You’re not the only person here with a sordid past, Wade.”
“I understand that”, Wade said, “But this is now. This is the future of Action Wrestling. This is your gate, merchandise sales, fucking Evolution Blu Rays at Wal-Mart kind of shit. All of that rides on this match at Clash, so forgive me if I want to put the past behind us Torture.”
Torture sat silent after the diatribe, obviously contemplating a lot under his guise of coolness.
“What about Bishop? Deruty?” Roy asked, “You know they’re gonna be gunnin’ for Digger and I.”
“Let them”, Wade replied, “#FightSmart will be taking themselves into account, but they’ll most likely forget that they have additional teammates to utilize this week.”
“How do you know that?” Speede asked.
“Because they’re absolute goons”, Wade replied, “Like I said, they proffer battle logistics, but really it’s just gangland tactics. Survival of the Stable. They’re trying to hold their ground but they know that as soon as Godnilla takes the World Championship from Spencer Adams waist, that spells the end for #FightSmart.”
“What about you?” Torture asked, “Are you going to be able to keep your cool around Adams? We all saw how he did you after Clash last week.”
“That’s why I called this summit”, Wade replied, “This council of Action Wrestling gods. Spencer Adams is content to sit in the #FightSmart tour bus and pretend that everything’s going according to plan. Yeah. My plan. I knew he was going to resort to devious methods...I was just waiting to see just how low he was willing to sink. I brought everyone here to show you that I’m always three steps ahead of Spencer Adams. I’m basically the World Champion already and he doesn’t even know it.
“We’re here, in my front yard once again, and we’re going to do things my way - once again. Spencer, you fucking beta trash, what dirty trick do you have up your sleeve this week? I’m sure it will be as shocking as hitting me over the head with the World Championship, mine own property? Why did you do this to yourself man? You could have stayed down in the mid division dumps or some tag team drudgery where you’re comfortable, where you belong. Instead you decided to trespass in Leviathan Country boi and you’re looking like pretty good eatin’s right now. How do you suppose it ends this week? Because we all know the real end doesn’t come until Evolution and we’ve entered the penultimate episode of your reign as champion.
“Spoilers, man...it ain’t looking too good for you and #FightSmart. For Bishop, Chase Jackson, or Donald Deruty. That’s what happens when you hijack a timeline fam, nothing really seems to fall in place for you. This is all par the course for you though, your career is basically synonymous with the word failure, but we’ll get more into that later. I don’t really think you know exactly how Evolution is going to go, though I’ve shown you week after week, so allow this to be your final lesson from the School of Sharks; don’t fuck with The Leviathan. This is how it has to be, how it was always gonna be Spence. You can go kicking and screaming but the result remains the same.”
His first thought was that it had to be Bonnie, but he never mistook her for the stalker archetype. She seemed emboldened by the experience, using the pain to propel her to a Tag Team Championship victory with David Sanchez in WCF and a shot at the UCI Championship here in Action Wrestling. If it were her, he would have been certain of it, but a voice in the back of his head told him that it wasn’t.
‘So who could it be?’ Jared spoke from within.
‘I have no clue’, Wade replied, ‘I can’t think straight right now.’
‘You need to get your head screwed on, Wade’ Jared scolded, ‘You’re slipping. You let Spencer Adams and his #beachkrew clones get one up on you at Clash.’
‘That wasn’t my fault’, Wade angrily replied.
‘Don’t play the victim’, Jared said, ‘You can’t blame this on anyone but yourself. You let your guard down and Spencer capitalized.’
“Trust me”, Wade replied aloud, “I won’t let it happen again.”
“Let what happen again?” a voice asked from behind him.
Wades head spun on a swivel and the recognizable sight of Roy Speede greeted him.
“Oh nothing”, Wade replied, “Just sending a text.”
He stood to greet him, holding his hand out for Speede to shake. He hesitated, only for a moment, but then greeted Wade with a firm handshake as if they were old hat friends.
“Roy, brother”, Wade said, “I wasn’t exactly sure if you were going to show.”
Roy chuckled, naturally rosy, but you could tell his war with his old friend Deruty was beginning to take its toll on him. Dark circles dropped underneath his eyelids, Wade could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well, a feeling he was acquainted with as well.
“I guess we don’t exactly know each other”, Roy replied, “But I figured that maybe this was the perfect opportunity considering we’re teaming together this week.”
“A perfect opportunity then, indeed”, Wade replied, “I have a pretty good track record against #FightSmart, and from my experience with them already, we’re going to have to be on the same page this week. Not only do we have our opponents to focus on, but you can be damn sure the rest of #FightSmart will be ringside like the pack of brainless, heathen, jackals they are. Spencer will make sure of that.”
“I hate those assholes”, Roy Speede replied, “So I have to agree. Spencer’s flunkies may not be the best and brightest, but Adams himself knows how to formulate a plan. I underestimated him in my rematch for the World Championship and he took advantage. I still see him standing there, holding that World Championship up like he actually deserved it.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll make him pay dearly this week”, Wade replied, “You’re a smart man, you won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“You bet your ass I won’t”, Roy pronounced.
The waiter came by and took Speede’s drink order as the two continued their conversation.
“So what’s life like for Wade Moor outside of the Action Wrestling ring?” Roy asked, obviously trying to get his mind off whatever was plaguing him.
“Nothing fantastic”, Wade lied.
Wade wasn’t sure the troubles of his life wouldn’t distract Roy more than they would just add to his own. He told him mundane stories, he spoke about his break up with Bonnie, omitting the obvious important details. Roy didn’t need to know anything like that, they just needed to focus on their match at Clash this week. As Wade was telling him how excited he was for Evolution, the loud clatter of a tray crashing to the ground sounded from inside.
“Sir...you can’t come in here dressed like that”, a male voice spoke inside the patio door.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the booming voice of Gravedigger replied, “I own this joint! I’ll have your job, shit for brains!”
Gravedigger, the shrewd entre-fuckin-preneur he was, produced credentials that made the man quiver in his non slips.
“I’m sorry sir”, the man pleaded, “I had no idea.”
“That’s even more insulting”, Gravedigger boasted, “But I’m a semi-forgiving man. How many Michelin stars do you have?”
“None sir”, the manager replied.
“Then get the hell out of my restaurant!” Gravedigger shouted.
“Looks like Gravediggers making friends”, Roy Speede said, laughing as he did.
Wade shrugged. Gravedigger appointed some lowly server to manager of his five star establishment as he walked out on the patio, decked in full biker garb, MS13 cut all the way on. Wade was surprised he didn’t arrive with his whole posse, more surprised that he even arrived at all, but he wasn’t shocked. He knew Gravedigger owned the restaurant and couldn’t resist coming to a place that stroked his ego a little, a place that reminded him of how far he had risen from the muck and shit.
“God damn boys”, Gravedigger said as he walked towards the table, “Feels good to be back.”
Wade stood and shook his hand, then Speede next. Gravedigger called for a bucket of beers, he didn’t care what, just not any of that pussy shit. He sat in the chair, kicked it back against the railing, and propped his boots up on the table.
“You’re not short on enemies, are you?” Wade asked, pointing to the door.
“I crossed that bitch up like his name was Bishop”, Gravedigger scoffed, laughing in his throat, “You’ll see, I haven’t lost a step. This everyone?”
“You heard from Torture?” Roy asked.
“He’s been incommunicado this past week”, Gravedigger replied, “It is his birthday though so he’s probably busy. What did you ask us here for anyways?”
“I’m curious too”, Roy interjected.
“You seriously worried about a couple of jobbers on a Monday Night Clash?”, Gravedigger asked, “You’re the number one contender, sack up.”
“I’m not worried about our opponents”, Wade replied, “I’m worried about the rest of #FightSmart, those jackals surrounding the ring. Last week they proved they would do anything to alleviate Spencer’s fear of losing the World Championship, even if it means taking the bullet for him.”
“I can arrange to have a few...people ringside”, Gravedigger replied, “If it would put your mind at ease.”
“No, we can handle it”, Wade replied, “We just have to fight smarter than them, which shouldn’t be too hard considering they’re mostly illiterates.”
“What’s the plan then?” Speede replied, “I think I have a pretty fair idea.”
“I think #FightSmart is counting on the fact that we won’t have eyes for anybody but our opponents for Evolution”, Wade replied, “We’ll just subvert their expectations. They may bolster brains but they’re as predictable as the tide. And believe me, it’s coming in hot and dark.”
“Are you seriously asking us to simply control our emotions for a single match?” a voice spoke from next to them.
The latest - and last - arrival Torture now stands by the table, dressed to the nines, presumably coming right from one of his meetings with road agents, talent scouts, or the like. He removes a pair of DuderBro shades and sets them down on the table, taking his seat next to Speede.
“Shouldn’t be too difficult”, Wade replied.
“You don’t really know Chase Jackson then”, Torture stated, “He’s going to do everything he can to get inside of my head and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop him.”
“It’s Chase Jackson”, Wade replied, “Get a grip on this situation. Are you fucking Torture or not?! You had like a nine year winning streak.”
“I was younger”, Torture replied, “Dumber. I had way less to lose, or so I thought. You’re not the only person here with a sordid past, Wade.”
“I understand that”, Wade said, “But this is now. This is the future of Action Wrestling. This is your gate, merchandise sales, fucking Evolution Blu Rays at Wal-Mart kind of shit. All of that rides on this match at Clash, so forgive me if I want to put the past behind us Torture.”
Torture sat silent after the diatribe, obviously contemplating a lot under his guise of coolness.
“What about Bishop? Deruty?” Roy asked, “You know they’re gonna be gunnin’ for Digger and I.”
“Let them”, Wade replied, “#FightSmart will be taking themselves into account, but they’ll most likely forget that they have additional teammates to utilize this week.”
“How do you know that?” Speede asked.
“Because they’re absolute goons”, Wade replied, “Like I said, they proffer battle logistics, but really it’s just gangland tactics. Survival of the Stable. They’re trying to hold their ground but they know that as soon as Godnilla takes the World Championship from Spencer Adams waist, that spells the end for #FightSmart.”
“What about you?” Torture asked, “Are you going to be able to keep your cool around Adams? We all saw how he did you after Clash last week.”
“That’s why I called this summit”, Wade replied, “This council of Action Wrestling gods. Spencer Adams is content to sit in the #FightSmart tour bus and pretend that everything’s going according to plan. Yeah. My plan. I knew he was going to resort to devious methods...I was just waiting to see just how low he was willing to sink. I brought everyone here to show you that I’m always three steps ahead of Spencer Adams. I’m basically the World Champion already and he doesn’t even know it.
“We’re here, in my front yard once again, and we’re going to do things my way - once again. Spencer, you fucking beta trash, what dirty trick do you have up your sleeve this week? I’m sure it will be as shocking as hitting me over the head with the World Championship, mine own property? Why did you do this to yourself man? You could have stayed down in the mid division dumps or some tag team drudgery where you’re comfortable, where you belong. Instead you decided to trespass in Leviathan Country boi and you’re looking like pretty good eatin’s right now. How do you suppose it ends this week? Because we all know the real end doesn’t come until Evolution and we’ve entered the penultimate episode of your reign as champion.
“Spoilers, man...it ain’t looking too good for you and #FightSmart. For Bishop, Chase Jackson, or Donald Deruty. That’s what happens when you hijack a timeline fam, nothing really seems to fall in place for you. This is all par the course for you though, your career is basically synonymous with the word failure, but we’ll get more into that later. I don’t really think you know exactly how Evolution is going to go, though I’ve shown you week after week, so allow this to be your final lesson from the School of Sharks; don’t fuck with The Leviathan. This is how it has to be, how it was always gonna be Spence. You can go kicking and screaming but the result remains the same.”