Post by Teo Blaze on Nov 27, 2023 2:22:40 GMT -5
“Son of a bitch!”
The voice that echoes through the locker room can only be described as cacophonous, if you have a thesaurus and the inclination. The stomps that follow it, however, need speak somewhat for themselves.
The camera angles in a small, secluded alcove, and an ill-fated ice pack is thrown around the corner, followed quickly by the very beaten frame of a man all-too known for his toughness.
“That cheap shotting, motherfu-” the words erupt from Teo as he walks with determination towards the camera, practically shoving it out of the way. The cameraman whirls, trying to keep pace with the Cruiserweight Icon as he moves towards the Cruiserclash locker room, sequestered from the main one.
“That’s the disrespect, the gall that I have been talking about! Not a minute removed from a war, and that bastard, that vulture…God damn it!”
Teo slams a fist into the concrete of the arena wall, turning towards the door.
“If that bastard had wanted my attention, I’d have been happy to knock the taste of his mouth, but it seems that he has it in his mind that he can pick the bones like a vulture, that I’d go deal with matters back on Cruiserclash.
Well it seems that my excursion on the Blue Brand has just had some time added hasn’t it? He wants a fight? Well he’s gonna get a war!”
Teo roughly unzips the red leather bag he keeps in his locker, pulling out a small flip phone branded with the Gents’ colorful logo. He pauses, only for a moment, and makes a mental note to call Jenson and fill him in on the developments. He sighs, collecting himself for a moment. Truthfully, even with the disappointment, he had a sense of genuine pride for what he’d accomplished in Turmoil. Every year he inched closer to the finals, every time coming within a second of pulling it off…
But he couldn’t focus on that now. He had to get ahold of Bunga before the card was finalized. He mashed the buttons hastily, well-rehearsed at this point, and held the receiver to his ear. After a moment’s dial tone, the gravelly voice of the Cruiserclash General manager came through the other end.
“Hey there champ! Helluva match tonight, I hope you didn’t hur-”
“Joey, listen, I need you to make a match.”
“Well nice to hear from you too.” the voice on the other end had changed, the smoke-blowing giving way to a more businesslike tone.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re about to ask me, but I can’t go around granting favors to my stars. Soon everyone will be asking for bookings, and I can’t have that. Besides, I just got off the phone with our friendly new Clash GM. Seems you’ve turned a few heads on that roster, and they offered me a spot for you that I think you’d find just marv-”
“Joey, I just got blindsided by a second-generation asshole before I even got to offer Downfall a handshake, now I know that you’re trying to do me a favor, but-”
“So quick to anger. I don’t know why I even try sometimes. Kid, word of advice, when you’re being done a favor, don’t interrupt. People don’t find it endearing, ya know?”
Teo began to offer an interjection, but heavily exhaled, thinking better of it. Bunga may have liked to hear the sound of his own voice, but he still had an uncanny ability to bolster the brand. Teo waited patiently rather than trying to answer.
“I take your silence to mean you understand. Now it seems that you and Mr. Gerard Angelo make up what one could determine a third place bracket, and Mr. Angelo has with him something that could put a whole lot more eyes on Cruiserclash. So after a quick pitch here, some dealmaking there, we came to a conclusion- why not raise those stakes even higher? And bada bing, bada boom, now you have a chance to bring home the briefcase. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Teo froze- Gerard Angelo? He knew there was a good chance he’d run into him in Turmoil, but the way he’d been bandying about that briefcase, Teo assumed that he’d sooner cut off his hand at the wrist than let go of it…but then, maybe Angelo hadn’t had a choice in the matter.
This was a wrinkle that Teo couldn’t help but turn over in his head- but something still sat sour with him in the back of his mind.
“Hell yes I’d love a chance to wipe that smug grin off that asshole’s face…and that briefcase, the All-In…”
Teo paused- his mind flashing back. He’d had his hands on that briefcase more than once, at multiple Uprisings. But it had slipped through his fingers at the last minute…the pain of the memory tempering his rage for just a moment.
“But I can’t let Ken get away with that attack. That’s just not the kind of thing I can let go.”
An uproarious laugh comes from the other end of the line, Teo cocking his eyebrow at the wheezing sound.
“Oh kid, nobody’s expectin’ you to let anything go. You just get well and be ready, and don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.”
Before Teo could inquire further, the sound of a click and a dial tone punctuated the end of the conversation. With a deep, exhaling sigh, Teo pushed a few more buttons on the flip phone before putting it once more again to his ear.
“Hey Andre…Yeah, I know. Downfall’s a tough customer.”
The buzzing of his partner’s dialogue can be heard, though no specific words can quite be made out.
“Yeah, it looks like I might have some business to finish up. You keep training for your match though. I’ll be back soon.”
Teo hangs up the call and flips the phone shut. With another deep sigh, he walks towards one of the mirrors over the locker room sink.
“When one door closes…another one always opens.”
Teo smirks, rubbing away the pain of the attack. Things were about to get interesting.
The scene has shifted, and the viewer is now greeted by a somewhat strange sight. The best way to describe the scene would be a discarded collection of possessions laid out in no particular order. The amount of dust and dust and debris covering the clutter, however, would clue in the observant viewer.
As Teo walks down an aisle covered with all sorts of baubles, knick knacks, and what-nots, it is now abundantly clear that he is walking through a secondhand shop.
He passes by the customers with an almost peculiar ease, letting his red lenses pass over the various discarded possessions, each marked with a discount sticker, and soaking in the scenery carefully.
Slowly, purposefully, even, he picks up a seemingly random item- a small stuffed elephant. He holds it in his hand, looking it over, before opening his mouth to speak.
“They say that power corrupts.”
He turns the item over as he talks, letting his eyes wander about the shelves of discarded possessions, his mind clearly considering his surroundings carefully.
“It’s an old adage, and one that I think we have taken to heart. A classic, hollywood tale even, the good man who comes into power, either by the strength of his morals and convictions or by some underhanded chicanery.
And yet, a man who swears, even if only to himself, that he will be the one to prove it wrong. That he will take the opportunity he’s been given and prove that he is the one, true, incorruptible exception! That he and he alone, by virtue of his god given talents, or the strength of his beliefs, and morals, will rise like a Phoenix from the ashes, and show that he is beyond such petty trivialities.”
Teo’s tone is a strange combination of wistfulness and careful consideration, as though he is turning the thought over in his head like a cat, toying with its prey. But he gestures with the stuffed toy towards the camera.
“But let’s address the elephant in the room,” he looks at the stuffed pachyderm, “and I’m not talking about this thing. If we are talking about Gerard Angelo, the idea of corruption is a laughable one at best! I mean are we getting into double negatives here?
He’s already a self-important piece arrogant garbage whose head is stuck so far up his own ass that he can see what he’s having for dinner before he swallows it- don’t think too hard about that one kids- what is power going to corrupt a man who would gladly sell out anyone if it meant just a little bit more of a boost to that ego that he’s been cultivating like a houseplant.
Fun aside by the way, Gerard’s Ego is also like a houseplant in that both require a steady supply of bullshit to keep them healthy.”
Teo sighs, tossing the elephant over his shoulder where it lands with a comical squeak.
“I am only now realizing how lucky I have been in Turmoil. Every round has been against someone with whom I have held personal animosity. I’ll admit it, I’m not made of stone, and I gave into some more base instincts. But a fight doesn’t have to be personal to be important.
But we’re getting a bit off track, and believe you me I have more to say about Gerry…but we were discussing the idea that power corrupts. After all, what gives you more power than the All-In briefcase?
Think about what it represents, what it means, what it stands for. So long as you have that in your possession, you hold destiny in your hands. People mention your name in hushed voices, knowing that at any time, any instant, you can seize the world.
That kind of power, well…it’s intoxicating. To be able to paralyze any champion with fear just by the sound of your music. To capitalize on a weakened foe, to pounce from the shadows like a wildcat on a wounded gazelle!
Come on, admit it, you know that you like that feeling, Gerry.”
As Teo speaks the words, his voice gives way to a playful condescension, almost as though he is lecturing a misbehaving child.
“You’d be happier if you just admit it to yourself, instead of trying to dress it up with paper justifications. Talking down to ‘paper champions’ while holding the threat in your hands at all times, imagining it like a knife to their throat. No matter how hard they fight, no matter what opponent they turn away, you’re always there, waiting in the wings. A shadow, looming in the distance, as inevitable as death itself.
At least, that’s what you’d have us believe.”
Teo walks over to a nearby rack, where a series of Action Wrestling action figures™ have been put up for sale at exorbitant retail prices. He grins as he picks up a much older Gerard Angelo figure, complete with World Championship.
“Fame, money, recognition…We’re all in this business chasing something, Gerry. And you know what? I think I’ve figured out just what it is you really want. Under all the violence, the ego, the brash declarations and violent intimidation, you’re just after that intoxicating feeling that power brings.
Last week you had the World Champion in the ring for Turmoil. You spoke about how confident you were, how certain you were that you would defeat her, that she was a joke who would no doubt succumb to your greatness, that it would be like squashing a fly.
So let me ask a simple question then…if all of that is to be believed, then why do you still have that briefcase? Why not, upon the moment of Jolee’s ascension, just walk to the ring and beat her fair and square? Or issue a challenge which, by the rules of the All-In, she could not refuse?
So what’s stopping you, Gerry?”
Teo looks at the action figure, then with the same dismissive scoff, tosses it over his shoulder where it lands with a clatter.
“Now you might think that I’m about to say you’re afraid of the champion in a fair fight, that you’re too much of a weak, spineless shitbird to even consider getting into a fight that you have a chance of losing because you know that anything less than a sure thing could very easily turn into the worst night of your life!
But honestly? I don’t think you’re smart enough to be that calculating. The fact that you keep reminding us about that briefcase, the fact that you say that you’re waiting for a perfect opportunity, camouflaging your intent with vagueness, well…”
Teo chuckles, walking to the end of the aisle as something catches his eye. He is now standing before a full-length mirror, cracked in one corner. The glass pane has distorted the image slightly, and as Teo moves towards it, the image becomes slightly warped, slightly unusual.
“Power does not corrupt, Gerard. That’s a myth. It does not take good men and turn them evil, nor does it twist the pure motives into something vile and unrecognizable… Power reveals. Pure and simple. It lets the world see who you were all along, because when you have power? You can wield it to enable you to attain that which you desire most.
So what has the All-In revealed about Gerard Angelo? If this is the climax of his hollywood story, then what have we learned?”
Teo’s warped, wobbling reflection suddenly becomes clear, he stands in just the perfect spot to create a pristine image of himself in the cracked mirror.
“We have learned that given all the power in the world, Gerard Angelo becomes the scavenger we always knew him to be. The vile opportunist who twists every moment towards servicing his own ego. A narcissist who justifies his own self-serving bravado with platitudes about saving the company in the name of crafting a narrative.
Because that’s what Gerard Angelo is in 2023- a narrative. An Idea. Cedrone helped him to grab that briefcase and ever since he’s been doing everything in his power to turn himself into the idea of a boogeyman. To further the idea that he holds all the power, the authority, the surprise, that it falls to him where and when he claims his rightful world championship!”
As the words leave his mouth, Teo’s eyes flash, his expression hardening almost instantaneously.
“It was a good plan, Gerard. Meticulous, careful…But there’s one little factor that you didn’t plan for, and how could you? How could the phoenix turned Vulture ever imagine that someone like me would come and kick your teeth in? That your hold on that briefcase wasn’t quite as ironclad as you imagined it?
You were so busy waiting for a chance to blindside someone else that you had no way to prepare for it yourself! That to carry out your sordid plan you would have to face someone like me in the one thing that you fear most, a fair fight!
And you know what? This isn’t personal like it was with Corey Black or Downfall. I don’t have months, years of frustration based on personal animosity- but damn it, things don’t have to be personal for me to care about them!
So Gerard, consider this an intervention! I am going to walk to that ring, and I am going to knock the hell out of you! Your plan, your perfect little twelve-step process of ‘waiting for the perfect opportunity’ is about to blow up in your face when I rip that briefcase from your grasp, and rob you of the one thing you care about most in this world!
Power.
The power you have over this roster, over the fans, the ability to use that briefcase to prop yourself up, to make yourself into something greater than you are, to support the never-ending narrative.
And without that case in your hands, what will you be? With the source of your power stripped away, what will be left?
Just a vulture, waiting for another easy meal.
…And speaking of vultures…”
Teo turns his head slightly, cracking his neck with a loud pop as he does so.
“Where do I even start with the train wreck that is the third man in this equation? I have to admit, you got me good with that clothesline, Dake. I have to imagine that you think so highly of yourself, or perhaps so little of me, that you saw fit to try and finish what Downfall started.”
Teo turns his head, letting one more loud pop echo, no doubt the result of the clothesline that he suffered, before his laughing, dismissive tone quickly turns aggressive.
“Well listen here, you tiny-dicked product of nepotism with as few brains as he has volume control, because actions have fucking consequences!”
Teo’s shouting causes nearby parents to cover their children’s ears, but Teo is too caught up to pay them any mind.
“You think that you got one over on me last week on Clash! That you could pick me up at one of the most painful, heart-wrenching moments of my life, and be the explanation point!? That I would just turn and walk away back home?! Oh you stupid sonuvabitch, do you not realize what happens to people who attack Teo Blaze?
If you had any friends in the world, I hope you got a phone call telling you to get your affairs in order or to prepare a public apology, because people who blindside me live to regret it! My name is etched in their subconscious, the sound of the Blazing Knee playing over and over again in their dreams until they wake up in a cold sweat! Every time they close their eyes they see red lenses in the darkness!
That is what happens when you make this shit personal, Ken! That is what happens when you piss me off!”
Teo punctuates his statement by roughly grabbing one of the action figures, this one a vintage toy of Dake Ken Sr. with exaggerated proportions, and he gestures with it as he continues.
“You do realize that you are a punchline, right? A joke that is told like a stale, half-remembered monologue from a late night show with all the enthusiasm of a water cooler chat! You are remembered as being hotshotted into the world title picture on the back of your Daddy’s name and proceeding to be put through wringer after wringer until it stopped being funny!
You’re not even important enough to be seen as a threat! You are an upstart prick who got the idea in his head that he could make a name by attacking a guy he thought would be an easy target.
‘After all, he’s on Cruiserclash! He’s a little guy! What can he possibly do to hurt me?’”
Teo turns and hurls the figure full force, where it collides with the mirror, shattering it in a hail of reflective shards, creating a momentary light show before landing with a tinkling clatter.
“Between you and me, that’s a very poor choice of last words.”
Teo inhales, clenching his fists tightly, as though he is struggling to keep from lashing out again.
“I know that every one of you looks at me and sees the smile. Dake Ken, Gerard Angelo? They see me as someone who is weaker for my love of my fans, of the people. They think that because I make jokes when those cameras are rolling, or that I will put others before myself, that it makes me an easy target.
Because they only know misery. They only know how to find joy in making themselves happy. Neither Gerard Angelo or Dake Ken Jr. will ever know for a second what it means to see the smile on a fan’s face when they see you in person for the first time. To be told that you have changed someone’s life just by being in the room with them. To care so deeply for a friend that you would sacrifice your own body, your own ambitions for them.
And that is why I cannot let the All-In stay with either of these men. Gerard Angelo may have won the briefcase, but in that short time he’s held it he has demonstrated that he sure as hell never deserved it!
And to even imagine the absolute Hindenburg-level disaster that would be Dake Ken walking these halls with the All-In briefcase!? The absolute madness that even trying to conjure that image threatens?”
Teo turns, collecting himself, and turning back towards the viewer, his breath heavy from the emotion and exertion.
“When I started in Turmoil, I swore that I would do everything in my power to put respect back on Cruiserclash’s name. To force anyone who would ever look down on us to acknowledge that we are more than a weight class. That mission does not end with a single loss.
With that briefcase by my side, I would have the same power that Gerard Angelo so happily wields.
But if power reveals…then what would it reveal in Teo Blaze?”
On this question, the anger in Teo’s voice seems to subside, only slightly.
“We all know the answer. I have never hidden myself. I stand before you, exposed and naked as the day I was born. My beliefs, my convictions? I have worn them on my sleeve and I have carried them with me from the day I walked in the door! Gerard Angelo cannot say the same! Dake Ken cannot not say the same, Junior or Senior! You have proven yourself to be nothing more than calculating, craven creatures who will do everything in their power to avoid a fair fight!
Which is a damn shame for the both of you, because that’s exactly what you’re up against at Turmoil.
There will be no perfect moment, there will be no bones to pick, and there will damn sure be no moment where I let my guard down ever again! This match will be decided by who is the strongest, who is the toughest, and by who wants it the most!
And damn it, I want this!
No platitudes, no doublespeak! I want the power that case represents! I want to use it as it was intended! Honorably and without manipulation! I want to use it to bring honor on Cruiserclash’s name, and to use it to make history in the name of something greater than myself! That is what makes Teo Blaze different! That is why I cannot leave that case in either of your hands! My belief is my strength, and I have more counting on me than either of you could ever imagine! And I will be damned if I let this charade continue!
That case, that power, is too important to be left with the likes of you vultures.
And if I’m the one destined to rip it from your talons, then I will play my part with a smile on my face.
Because, gentlemen, power does not corrupt, it reveals.
And I am not afraid of what I see.”
With that, Teo turns, looking at the patrons of the store. In his excitement, he realizes that he has made quite a mess, but with a shrug, he turns towards the cashier, intending to settle up, and maybe even help clean the mess.
But as he walks, he looks over his shoulder one final time, looking over the bridge of his red glasses, and smiles, offering a sly, wicked wink.
“See you at Turmoil.”
The dryness of the phrase belies the devilish look, and the scene slowly fades as Teo approaches the counter with a slightly apologetic expression, any hint of the aggression replaced with a facade of happy fun.
The voice that echoes through the locker room can only be described as cacophonous, if you have a thesaurus and the inclination. The stomps that follow it, however, need speak somewhat for themselves.
The camera angles in a small, secluded alcove, and an ill-fated ice pack is thrown around the corner, followed quickly by the very beaten frame of a man all-too known for his toughness.
“That cheap shotting, motherfu-” the words erupt from Teo as he walks with determination towards the camera, practically shoving it out of the way. The cameraman whirls, trying to keep pace with the Cruiserweight Icon as he moves towards the Cruiserclash locker room, sequestered from the main one.
“That’s the disrespect, the gall that I have been talking about! Not a minute removed from a war, and that bastard, that vulture…God damn it!”
Teo slams a fist into the concrete of the arena wall, turning towards the door.
“If that bastard had wanted my attention, I’d have been happy to knock the taste of his mouth, but it seems that he has it in his mind that he can pick the bones like a vulture, that I’d go deal with matters back on Cruiserclash.
Well it seems that my excursion on the Blue Brand has just had some time added hasn’t it? He wants a fight? Well he’s gonna get a war!”
Teo roughly unzips the red leather bag he keeps in his locker, pulling out a small flip phone branded with the Gents’ colorful logo. He pauses, only for a moment, and makes a mental note to call Jenson and fill him in on the developments. He sighs, collecting himself for a moment. Truthfully, even with the disappointment, he had a sense of genuine pride for what he’d accomplished in Turmoil. Every year he inched closer to the finals, every time coming within a second of pulling it off…
But he couldn’t focus on that now. He had to get ahold of Bunga before the card was finalized. He mashed the buttons hastily, well-rehearsed at this point, and held the receiver to his ear. After a moment’s dial tone, the gravelly voice of the Cruiserclash General manager came through the other end.
“Hey there champ! Helluva match tonight, I hope you didn’t hur-”
“Joey, listen, I need you to make a match.”
“Well nice to hear from you too.” the voice on the other end had changed, the smoke-blowing giving way to a more businesslike tone.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re about to ask me, but I can’t go around granting favors to my stars. Soon everyone will be asking for bookings, and I can’t have that. Besides, I just got off the phone with our friendly new Clash GM. Seems you’ve turned a few heads on that roster, and they offered me a spot for you that I think you’d find just marv-”
“Joey, I just got blindsided by a second-generation asshole before I even got to offer Downfall a handshake, now I know that you’re trying to do me a favor, but-”
“So quick to anger. I don’t know why I even try sometimes. Kid, word of advice, when you’re being done a favor, don’t interrupt. People don’t find it endearing, ya know?”
Teo began to offer an interjection, but heavily exhaled, thinking better of it. Bunga may have liked to hear the sound of his own voice, but he still had an uncanny ability to bolster the brand. Teo waited patiently rather than trying to answer.
“I take your silence to mean you understand. Now it seems that you and Mr. Gerard Angelo make up what one could determine a third place bracket, and Mr. Angelo has with him something that could put a whole lot more eyes on Cruiserclash. So after a quick pitch here, some dealmaking there, we came to a conclusion- why not raise those stakes even higher? And bada bing, bada boom, now you have a chance to bring home the briefcase. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Teo froze- Gerard Angelo? He knew there was a good chance he’d run into him in Turmoil, but the way he’d been bandying about that briefcase, Teo assumed that he’d sooner cut off his hand at the wrist than let go of it…but then, maybe Angelo hadn’t had a choice in the matter.
This was a wrinkle that Teo couldn’t help but turn over in his head- but something still sat sour with him in the back of his mind.
“Hell yes I’d love a chance to wipe that smug grin off that asshole’s face…and that briefcase, the All-In…”
Teo paused- his mind flashing back. He’d had his hands on that briefcase more than once, at multiple Uprisings. But it had slipped through his fingers at the last minute…the pain of the memory tempering his rage for just a moment.
“But I can’t let Ken get away with that attack. That’s just not the kind of thing I can let go.”
An uproarious laugh comes from the other end of the line, Teo cocking his eyebrow at the wheezing sound.
“Oh kid, nobody’s expectin’ you to let anything go. You just get well and be ready, and don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.”
Before Teo could inquire further, the sound of a click and a dial tone punctuated the end of the conversation. With a deep, exhaling sigh, Teo pushed a few more buttons on the flip phone before putting it once more again to his ear.
“Hey Andre…Yeah, I know. Downfall’s a tough customer.”
The buzzing of his partner’s dialogue can be heard, though no specific words can quite be made out.
“Yeah, it looks like I might have some business to finish up. You keep training for your match though. I’ll be back soon.”
Teo hangs up the call and flips the phone shut. With another deep sigh, he walks towards one of the mirrors over the locker room sink.
“When one door closes…another one always opens.”
Teo smirks, rubbing away the pain of the attack. Things were about to get interesting.
The scene has shifted, and the viewer is now greeted by a somewhat strange sight. The best way to describe the scene would be a discarded collection of possessions laid out in no particular order. The amount of dust and dust and debris covering the clutter, however, would clue in the observant viewer.
As Teo walks down an aisle covered with all sorts of baubles, knick knacks, and what-nots, it is now abundantly clear that he is walking through a secondhand shop.
He passes by the customers with an almost peculiar ease, letting his red lenses pass over the various discarded possessions, each marked with a discount sticker, and soaking in the scenery carefully.
Slowly, purposefully, even, he picks up a seemingly random item- a small stuffed elephant. He holds it in his hand, looking it over, before opening his mouth to speak.
“They say that power corrupts.”
He turns the item over as he talks, letting his eyes wander about the shelves of discarded possessions, his mind clearly considering his surroundings carefully.
“It’s an old adage, and one that I think we have taken to heart. A classic, hollywood tale even, the good man who comes into power, either by the strength of his morals and convictions or by some underhanded chicanery.
And yet, a man who swears, even if only to himself, that he will be the one to prove it wrong. That he will take the opportunity he’s been given and prove that he is the one, true, incorruptible exception! That he and he alone, by virtue of his god given talents, or the strength of his beliefs, and morals, will rise like a Phoenix from the ashes, and show that he is beyond such petty trivialities.”
Teo’s tone is a strange combination of wistfulness and careful consideration, as though he is turning the thought over in his head like a cat, toying with its prey. But he gestures with the stuffed toy towards the camera.
“But let’s address the elephant in the room,” he looks at the stuffed pachyderm, “and I’m not talking about this thing. If we are talking about Gerard Angelo, the idea of corruption is a laughable one at best! I mean are we getting into double negatives here?
He’s already a self-important piece arrogant garbage whose head is stuck so far up his own ass that he can see what he’s having for dinner before he swallows it- don’t think too hard about that one kids- what is power going to corrupt a man who would gladly sell out anyone if it meant just a little bit more of a boost to that ego that he’s been cultivating like a houseplant.
Fun aside by the way, Gerard’s Ego is also like a houseplant in that both require a steady supply of bullshit to keep them healthy.”
Teo sighs, tossing the elephant over his shoulder where it lands with a comical squeak.
“I am only now realizing how lucky I have been in Turmoil. Every round has been against someone with whom I have held personal animosity. I’ll admit it, I’m not made of stone, and I gave into some more base instincts. But a fight doesn’t have to be personal to be important.
But we’re getting a bit off track, and believe you me I have more to say about Gerry…but we were discussing the idea that power corrupts. After all, what gives you more power than the All-In briefcase?
Think about what it represents, what it means, what it stands for. So long as you have that in your possession, you hold destiny in your hands. People mention your name in hushed voices, knowing that at any time, any instant, you can seize the world.
That kind of power, well…it’s intoxicating. To be able to paralyze any champion with fear just by the sound of your music. To capitalize on a weakened foe, to pounce from the shadows like a wildcat on a wounded gazelle!
Come on, admit it, you know that you like that feeling, Gerry.”
As Teo speaks the words, his voice gives way to a playful condescension, almost as though he is lecturing a misbehaving child.
“You’d be happier if you just admit it to yourself, instead of trying to dress it up with paper justifications. Talking down to ‘paper champions’ while holding the threat in your hands at all times, imagining it like a knife to their throat. No matter how hard they fight, no matter what opponent they turn away, you’re always there, waiting in the wings. A shadow, looming in the distance, as inevitable as death itself.
At least, that’s what you’d have us believe.”
Teo walks over to a nearby rack, where a series of Action Wrestling action figures™ have been put up for sale at exorbitant retail prices. He grins as he picks up a much older Gerard Angelo figure, complete with World Championship.
“Fame, money, recognition…We’re all in this business chasing something, Gerry. And you know what? I think I’ve figured out just what it is you really want. Under all the violence, the ego, the brash declarations and violent intimidation, you’re just after that intoxicating feeling that power brings.
Last week you had the World Champion in the ring for Turmoil. You spoke about how confident you were, how certain you were that you would defeat her, that she was a joke who would no doubt succumb to your greatness, that it would be like squashing a fly.
So let me ask a simple question then…if all of that is to be believed, then why do you still have that briefcase? Why not, upon the moment of Jolee’s ascension, just walk to the ring and beat her fair and square? Or issue a challenge which, by the rules of the All-In, she could not refuse?
So what’s stopping you, Gerry?”
Teo looks at the action figure, then with the same dismissive scoff, tosses it over his shoulder where it lands with a clatter.
“Now you might think that I’m about to say you’re afraid of the champion in a fair fight, that you’re too much of a weak, spineless shitbird to even consider getting into a fight that you have a chance of losing because you know that anything less than a sure thing could very easily turn into the worst night of your life!
But honestly? I don’t think you’re smart enough to be that calculating. The fact that you keep reminding us about that briefcase, the fact that you say that you’re waiting for a perfect opportunity, camouflaging your intent with vagueness, well…”
Teo chuckles, walking to the end of the aisle as something catches his eye. He is now standing before a full-length mirror, cracked in one corner. The glass pane has distorted the image slightly, and as Teo moves towards it, the image becomes slightly warped, slightly unusual.
“Power does not corrupt, Gerard. That’s a myth. It does not take good men and turn them evil, nor does it twist the pure motives into something vile and unrecognizable… Power reveals. Pure and simple. It lets the world see who you were all along, because when you have power? You can wield it to enable you to attain that which you desire most.
So what has the All-In revealed about Gerard Angelo? If this is the climax of his hollywood story, then what have we learned?”
Teo’s warped, wobbling reflection suddenly becomes clear, he stands in just the perfect spot to create a pristine image of himself in the cracked mirror.
“We have learned that given all the power in the world, Gerard Angelo becomes the scavenger we always knew him to be. The vile opportunist who twists every moment towards servicing his own ego. A narcissist who justifies his own self-serving bravado with platitudes about saving the company in the name of crafting a narrative.
Because that’s what Gerard Angelo is in 2023- a narrative. An Idea. Cedrone helped him to grab that briefcase and ever since he’s been doing everything in his power to turn himself into the idea of a boogeyman. To further the idea that he holds all the power, the authority, the surprise, that it falls to him where and when he claims his rightful world championship!”
As the words leave his mouth, Teo’s eyes flash, his expression hardening almost instantaneously.
“It was a good plan, Gerard. Meticulous, careful…But there’s one little factor that you didn’t plan for, and how could you? How could the phoenix turned Vulture ever imagine that someone like me would come and kick your teeth in? That your hold on that briefcase wasn’t quite as ironclad as you imagined it?
You were so busy waiting for a chance to blindside someone else that you had no way to prepare for it yourself! That to carry out your sordid plan you would have to face someone like me in the one thing that you fear most, a fair fight!
And you know what? This isn’t personal like it was with Corey Black or Downfall. I don’t have months, years of frustration based on personal animosity- but damn it, things don’t have to be personal for me to care about them!
So Gerard, consider this an intervention! I am going to walk to that ring, and I am going to knock the hell out of you! Your plan, your perfect little twelve-step process of ‘waiting for the perfect opportunity’ is about to blow up in your face when I rip that briefcase from your grasp, and rob you of the one thing you care about most in this world!
Power.
The power you have over this roster, over the fans, the ability to use that briefcase to prop yourself up, to make yourself into something greater than you are, to support the never-ending narrative.
And without that case in your hands, what will you be? With the source of your power stripped away, what will be left?
Just a vulture, waiting for another easy meal.
…And speaking of vultures…”
Teo turns his head slightly, cracking his neck with a loud pop as he does so.
“Where do I even start with the train wreck that is the third man in this equation? I have to admit, you got me good with that clothesline, Dake. I have to imagine that you think so highly of yourself, or perhaps so little of me, that you saw fit to try and finish what Downfall started.”
Teo turns his head, letting one more loud pop echo, no doubt the result of the clothesline that he suffered, before his laughing, dismissive tone quickly turns aggressive.
“Well listen here, you tiny-dicked product of nepotism with as few brains as he has volume control, because actions have fucking consequences!”
Teo’s shouting causes nearby parents to cover their children’s ears, but Teo is too caught up to pay them any mind.
“You think that you got one over on me last week on Clash! That you could pick me up at one of the most painful, heart-wrenching moments of my life, and be the explanation point!? That I would just turn and walk away back home?! Oh you stupid sonuvabitch, do you not realize what happens to people who attack Teo Blaze?
If you had any friends in the world, I hope you got a phone call telling you to get your affairs in order or to prepare a public apology, because people who blindside me live to regret it! My name is etched in their subconscious, the sound of the Blazing Knee playing over and over again in their dreams until they wake up in a cold sweat! Every time they close their eyes they see red lenses in the darkness!
That is what happens when you make this shit personal, Ken! That is what happens when you piss me off!”
Teo punctuates his statement by roughly grabbing one of the action figures, this one a vintage toy of Dake Ken Sr. with exaggerated proportions, and he gestures with it as he continues.
“You do realize that you are a punchline, right? A joke that is told like a stale, half-remembered monologue from a late night show with all the enthusiasm of a water cooler chat! You are remembered as being hotshotted into the world title picture on the back of your Daddy’s name and proceeding to be put through wringer after wringer until it stopped being funny!
You’re not even important enough to be seen as a threat! You are an upstart prick who got the idea in his head that he could make a name by attacking a guy he thought would be an easy target.
‘After all, he’s on Cruiserclash! He’s a little guy! What can he possibly do to hurt me?’”
Teo turns and hurls the figure full force, where it collides with the mirror, shattering it in a hail of reflective shards, creating a momentary light show before landing with a tinkling clatter.
“Between you and me, that’s a very poor choice of last words.”
Teo inhales, clenching his fists tightly, as though he is struggling to keep from lashing out again.
“I know that every one of you looks at me and sees the smile. Dake Ken, Gerard Angelo? They see me as someone who is weaker for my love of my fans, of the people. They think that because I make jokes when those cameras are rolling, or that I will put others before myself, that it makes me an easy target.
Because they only know misery. They only know how to find joy in making themselves happy. Neither Gerard Angelo or Dake Ken Jr. will ever know for a second what it means to see the smile on a fan’s face when they see you in person for the first time. To be told that you have changed someone’s life just by being in the room with them. To care so deeply for a friend that you would sacrifice your own body, your own ambitions for them.
And that is why I cannot let the All-In stay with either of these men. Gerard Angelo may have won the briefcase, but in that short time he’s held it he has demonstrated that he sure as hell never deserved it!
And to even imagine the absolute Hindenburg-level disaster that would be Dake Ken walking these halls with the All-In briefcase!? The absolute madness that even trying to conjure that image threatens?”
Teo turns, collecting himself, and turning back towards the viewer, his breath heavy from the emotion and exertion.
“When I started in Turmoil, I swore that I would do everything in my power to put respect back on Cruiserclash’s name. To force anyone who would ever look down on us to acknowledge that we are more than a weight class. That mission does not end with a single loss.
With that briefcase by my side, I would have the same power that Gerard Angelo so happily wields.
But if power reveals…then what would it reveal in Teo Blaze?”
On this question, the anger in Teo’s voice seems to subside, only slightly.
“We all know the answer. I have never hidden myself. I stand before you, exposed and naked as the day I was born. My beliefs, my convictions? I have worn them on my sleeve and I have carried them with me from the day I walked in the door! Gerard Angelo cannot say the same! Dake Ken cannot not say the same, Junior or Senior! You have proven yourself to be nothing more than calculating, craven creatures who will do everything in their power to avoid a fair fight!
Which is a damn shame for the both of you, because that’s exactly what you’re up against at Turmoil.
There will be no perfect moment, there will be no bones to pick, and there will damn sure be no moment where I let my guard down ever again! This match will be decided by who is the strongest, who is the toughest, and by who wants it the most!
And damn it, I want this!
No platitudes, no doublespeak! I want the power that case represents! I want to use it as it was intended! Honorably and without manipulation! I want to use it to bring honor on Cruiserclash’s name, and to use it to make history in the name of something greater than myself! That is what makes Teo Blaze different! That is why I cannot leave that case in either of your hands! My belief is my strength, and I have more counting on me than either of you could ever imagine! And I will be damned if I let this charade continue!
That case, that power, is too important to be left with the likes of you vultures.
And if I’m the one destined to rip it from your talons, then I will play my part with a smile on my face.
Because, gentlemen, power does not corrupt, it reveals.
And I am not afraid of what I see.”
With that, Teo turns, looking at the patrons of the store. In his excitement, he realizes that he has made quite a mess, but with a shrug, he turns towards the cashier, intending to settle up, and maybe even help clean the mess.
But as he walks, he looks over his shoulder one final time, looking over the bridge of his red glasses, and smiles, offering a sly, wicked wink.
“See you at Turmoil.”
The dryness of the phrase belies the devilish look, and the scene slowly fades as Teo approaches the counter with a slightly apologetic expression, any hint of the aggression replaced with a facade of happy fun.