Post by Teo Blaze on Nov 5, 2023 12:06:19 GMT -5
“Obsession is a cruel mistress.”
The scene that greets the viewer is strange but familiar- a bright, neon landscape filled with electronic buzzers, bells, and dings. Smiling cocktail waitresses bring trays of drinks to high-rollers tapping the backs of blackjack hands on well-worn green felt tables while a lounge act belts out a warbly version of an old 70’s standby.
In other words, Teo Blaze is walking through a well-maintained casino.
“And I know the words ‘cruel mistress’ is often something Jessie Lee would want you to use when you think of her, that’s not exactly what I’m talking about.”
Teo deftly takes one of the complimentary drinks from a passing waitress, swirling the bright liquid around in a martini glass as he considers his reflection.
“You know, I’ve sometimes wondered about Gambling…funny thing, isn’t it? Risking your livelihood on a bet that you know in your heart of hearts is stacked against you. Throwing away money, tears, and time on the hope that eventually that roulette wheel will come up black.
How many bets will it take until you’re happy? I’d ask myself.”
Teo punctuates his statement by downing the contents of the glass, letting his path take him by the blackjack tables as he speaks- the gamblers so drawn into their game that they barely notice him weaving through.
“But then I had a revelation- the people who keep putting down their salaries on these bets, who keep chasing that clearly impossible dream? It’s all sunk cost fallacy, isn’t it?! Just because something is clearly not working, so long as you keep on putting down those bets, keep on getting taken to the cleaners over and over again, eventually you just have to win. It has to happen!
Stop me when you start to see how this applies to poor Jessie Lee.”
As if to punctuate Teo’s statement, a large man with a cigar bangs his fists loudly on the blackjack table as the dealer flips over an Ace of Spades, a long hook reaching out to grab the man’s chips.
“Sunk cost fallacy, isn’t it? Poor Jessie Lee keeps going back to that well again and again, practically building a whole identity around that United States Championship. Throwing herself at it again and again, determined to elevate it, to make it something special! And time and time again she just keeps letting it slip through her fingers, outfoxed and outworked, screwed so many times!
Although…at some point you have to wonder, right?
At what point have you spent too much time, effort, and energy on something that just clearly isn’t going to happen?”
Teo moves away from the blackjack tables towards a long row of slot machines, decrepit mummies in bermuda shorts and plastic visors feeding nickels into a whirring series of one-armed bandits.
“Alright Jessie, enough riddles. It’s time for the tough love- you’re an obsessed bimbo who has spent so much time letting the sitcom play you like a punchline that you might as well add a laugh track to every promo.
You’re tough, you’re vicious, and you are the poor victim of circumstance who time and time again slips on a banana peel at the finish line, an ‘aw shucks’ of an existence where you just keep going back to the drawing board again and again until you run out of room on the canvas, and it. Is. Sad.
You can add as much leather, spikes, and chains as you want to a wrestler, but this business is about results, and in six months, the people could give a damn about why you failed, all they know is that you failed.
And that is what you are, Jessie Lee. A failure.
You know this on some level, you must. You have to, right?”
Teo leans on an unoccupied machine, his gaze drifting over the machines, the mechanical grind of arms turning creating an almost rhythmic patois, a language of its own in his ears.
“But it’s just so tempting isn’t it? Pull that arm one more time. Wager a little more of that reputation. Really max out that line of credibility that you’ve built. This time it will be different! This time it’ll work! It has to!
So you give that cute little yell, and you rip into whatever bowling pin of an opponent they’ve set up for you to knock down, you tell the world that you’re a killer!
But you know what’s missing, Jessie? Do you know why your last promo felt so tired, so fatigued? Hell, delusional even?
It’s because you lack the mental capacity for true introspection. For growth. To show this damn roster that you’re more than a catchprase with a Spencer’s gift card.
You’re a one note, played out song with the same lyrics, a one-hit wonder that can’t seem to figure out that what she’s doing just isn’t working, and your response inevitably is to double down!
Let me ask you, really ask you, who is Jessie Lee without that United States title? What do we know about you that doesn’t revolve around that belt?
At the end of the day, when that leather and lipstick comes off, and you’re looking in the mirror, who is looking back at you?”
Teo holds up the empty martini glass, his face reflecting, distorted only slightly, but still bearing the iconic look.
“That reflection must be pretty empty. So much anger, so much pain comes through in every word that leaves your lips. You funnel all of that frustration, that disappointment in yourself into these fiery, hateful words to mask the fact that without that obsessive drive, without that determination to hold that belt over your head, you’re a sad, delusional little girl who pushes away anyone that tries to get close to her.
That pain, that emotion, you try so hard to make it work for you, but it’s written on your face with every word you speak, every assistant you bully, every time you lose that precious little temper of yours.”
Teo looks at the empty stool in front of the machine, and then with a shrug he sits down in front of it, his eyes never leaving the camera as he does.
“Well Jessie, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Do you know why I can speak with such authority on obsession? On letting the chase push you into a dangerous place?
It’s because I’ve lived through it so many times that I can see it from a mile away.
This is my fourth time appearing in Turmoil, Jessie, and it’s something that has eluded me. Superstar of the year has always been just beyond my reach.
And you know what? I am fucking. tired. of it.
And I will be god damned if I let a hot topic reject outback steakhouse wannabe aspire to a throne that I’ve been denied three times!”
Teo bangs his fist on the machine, loud enough to draw the attention of nearby gamblers, but he is too caught up in the emotion to respond.
“From the moment that you saw my name on that bracket, your heart should have jumped into your throat, Jessie. If you had two brain cells to rub together you would sit this one out, because there’s something you need to know.
You want to be United States Champion
You want to beat the Sitcom.
You want to be the beloved underdog.
That’s cute.
I need this. I can feel it in the back of my mind, every time I close my eyes it rings through. Nobody from Cruiserclash has ever won Superstar of the year- the show that I love, my home is counting on me to be the first. And you know what? I’ll say it- I want to shut the mouths of wrestlers like you who look down on me. Take home a few teeth to add to the mantle, next to every single name who looked at me and said that I can’t do this forever!
You want to win Turmoil?! You want to be the one who beat Teo Blaze!? What makes you different from every other name who has tried!?
You are hollow, Jessie Lee. You are an empty shell defined by a championship that, when taken away, exposes how little you actually matter.
Jessie Lee, you are be a footnote! A name that people remember in passing at best, a ghost of something that could have been!
I will be standing atop Turmoil as you are left wondering yet again why wanting it wasn’t enough!
And I won’t waste my breath saying I told you so.”
DING! DING! DING!
Teo’s gaze turns to the slot machine, which has come up all sevens! A generous outpouring of coins erupts from the machine as he looks towards the other gamblers and then at the camera. With a grin, he stands up, and taps his brow knowingly, turning from his winnings as the scene slowly fades.