Post by Deleted on Jun 20, 2023 23:31:30 GMT -5
Driller enters the attic in his mom’s house and looks at the boxes piled on top of each other.
Driller: I have the most important match of my life coming up and she’s making me go through my old shit. I guess the constant bending to avoid smacking my head on a beam will be good exercise.
He finds an unmarked box and opens it. He pulls out an old picture in a frame. It’s one he hasn’t seen in a long time- Driller, as a newborn named Stanley, being held by his mom. Next to her is a burly, bearded man with his arm over her shoulder. He’s looking down on Stanley. The man is his father, a man he has only known through this one old picture.
Driller: This is my fucking legacy. A deadbeat father who left his wife and son behind. He didn’t pass anything on to me. No, he just got up and left before I could even walk. My mom said he was a plumber. Well, he certainly threw his family down the shitter. I guess he was too busy to come back and unclog the toilet he flushed us down.
Fuck him. Everything I’ve gained in my adult life I’ve gained myself. Sure, my mom has been there to pick me up when I fall, but this career I’ve built for myself ever since I was 18, I’ve had to build it with my own efforts.
Call it pride. Call it bitterness. The fact remains that I didn’t have the same advantage of someone like, let’s say, Serenity Holmes.
I don’t begrudge you for having the Holmes pedigree, Serenity. I’m not saying your life’s been great. I know you’ve had difficulties with your own family; but at least you had a great professional wrestler in your father that could teach you how to wrestle. Shit, I wish I had a dad that taught me anything. Regardless, there’s one thing your dad didn’t prepare you for.
Me.
I’m sure you think you’re prepared for me. I’m sure your dad taught you how to study your opponents and counter the kind of moves that I use in the ring; but until you step into the ring with me, you have no idea what I am and what I’m capable of doing. Your dad and I never wrestled each other, but maybe it would have been better if we had. I would have beaten him so badly that you would have been discouraged from becoming a wrestler. Too bad that didn’t happen. You would have been spared the shit-kicking that you’re about to get from me.
As for you ZMAC, you say I don’t know anything about you, but I do know one thing. You are a legendary trash-talker. Your words cut like a knife, and if a man is too sensitive, he might let what you say seep into his head and cloud his thoughts. I’m not going to do that, though. I’m too hardened to let your little shots pierce my skin. Say whatever you want about me and my Light Cup. It won’t stop me from obtaining the undisputed Cruiserweight Championship. I know you can do a lot of damage and I know you can take an unlimited amount of punishment, but on June 25, the only thing that matters is who ends the match. You can cut me, bruise me, bloody me up, hit me with every move that’s ever won you a title. You still won’t be the one to get the pin or submission.
Maybe I’m not as hardcore as you. Maybe I never will be. Time will tell. Right now, I could really give a shit. First things first. I’m going to take yours and Serenity’s titles. We can settle any other differences later.
He stares at the photo one last time.
Driller: This piece of shit looking down on me in this picture, I’m not going to let his legacy become mine. At Evolution, I start a new Jaworski legacy, and it will eclipse anything Serenity, ZMAC- and my father- have ever done!
He slams the picture back into the box, the sound of glass cracking.