Post by Addy A on Sept 15, 2022 20:06:30 GMT -5
“Ever looked in the mirror and realised that sometimes your greatest challenge is in the eyes staring back at you?”
“In some ways I feel that way about this week, Elijah.”
“Sounds a whole fucking lot like I was - packed full of bullshit and bluster. Style over substance, violence over victories. Sure, we get moments like you in the Pure Cup, like I did in my Action Wrestling debut, winning a World Title. But every victory is matched by a loss - no consistency, no momentum. It doesn’t matter how hard you beat your fucking chest after every victory over Johnny Cedrone, if you’re rolling out the next fucking week staring at the ceiling when the prizes are bigger and the stage is brighter.”
“Sometimes you just need to focus your attention on the face in the mirror.”
“It’s twisted fucking arrogance really, it’s the pride before the fall. I can’t speak for you, Elijah, but I found for myself it came from a lack of focus, a lack of clear direction. Leading into Evolution, I grabbed Lissie and told her we were going to win the Tag Titles - we did. But, we failed to follow that up with anything of substance. It’s just stylised - we’re the best tag team in the business bullshit. No direction. Without that steeled desire, I slipped. But I woke something in myself. I looked inside myself and found exactly what I wanted. When I knew that, I found who I am.”
“While you bleat and bray your wish to be a champion - just a champion, any title would do, right? Sure, World Champion would be nice, but any piece of gold. A directionless goal is what drives you - you may as well be driving around Daytona in the wrong direction, because you’re not going anywhere and you’re certainly not winning anything.”
“That’s what you are. You see your biggest rival run down by a car - but you allow his wife to take centre stage. Weak shit, Eli. Weak fucking shit. But, that’s what you are isn’t it? You’ve got a bucket full of excuses and lines when you lose, and when you win - well you just exist. You’re there, but so is the wallpaper and no one gives a shit about that, do they? You could’ve been the loudest voice in the room last week on Clash, but instead the loud, brash and obnoxious Elijiah Martin chose to be a weak shit little bitch and allow Gloria Cedrone to steal the limelight - pussy.”
“I’m sure I could denigrate you further, but really, Eli - what would be the fucking point? When I know you’re going to walk out with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop and spin the same spiel you always spin. I get it - Be there, done that. So let’s forget the fact you’ll hit me with some cheap insults and use all the language skill you can muster to talk yourself up as the head of the table. We’ll forget all that and just get down to the facts, Eli. You can't get the job done. Even when your biggest rival is rundown you still fail - you may as well go be assistant GM to Joey Bunga for all that fucking ability.”
“I’m going to lay something down for you, Eli. Your Plan A - it’s not going to be enough against a killer like me. If that’s all you’re capable of bringing to table to come for the Action Wrestling Television Title - then go get pegged by Gloria Cedrone. It’s not going to be enough, while you see the only worthwhile aspiration as the World Title and everything else as a stepping stone. This Television Title is exactly the title I want around my waist. Don’t get me wrong - I’m never turning a World Title down, but this title puts me right in the fire and that’s exactly how I like it.”
“Can you handle the heat?”
“Your body of work would suggest that you won’t, but even a broken clock is good for the right time twice a day.”
“So tell me, Ms. Ainsworth, what seems to plague you?” enquires the esteemed Dr. Todd.
Adelaide has found herself regularly drawn to the darkest corners of her mind and at the urging of one of her closest friends, she has taken to seeing a psychologist. This is her first visit and she is positively perplexed by the first question posed to her.
“COVID?” she giggles.
“Ahh, deflection. Hmm.” he says, to himself more than her. “I want you to tell me about your time in Las Vegas, before you became a wrestler.”
Adelaide’s face goes pale - she hadn’t said anything about that in the intake questionnaire.
“As a stripper?”
“Sure.” he says to no one. “We can start there, We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Eli, we can turn circles around each other about the how’s and the why’s to the outcome of what’s coming. But I’m intent on not spinning my wheels here. I’m driving forward - you just happen to be the person I need to run over (I’ll do that correct.) The facade you present to the world will be the noose around your neck.”
“For as loud as you, and you are very fucking loud, your words resonate with the strength of a church mouse.”
“Your actions … muted.”
“You can change that, you won’t - because your mental gymnastics sees you screaming wilder and kicking puppies harder as the only way out of your self-inflicted conundrum. That is your greatest weakness. That singular weakness is all I need to defeat you. I don’t need comical violence - though I’m capable of it. I don’t need to do anything but be me.”
“You need to take a good look at yourself in the mirror.”
“And open your eyes.”