Post by Roy Speede on Feb 11, 2018 22:43:38 GMT -5
03 January 2018
The scene opens on a thirty-eight foot fishing boat floating somewhere off the US coastline in the Atlantic. Or maybe the Caribbean, but who really cares where it is? The fact of the matter is, all that can be seen for miles around in any direction one were to look is open sea, a bright blue sky with the stray cloud or two, and glistening sunlight, making the day a surprisingly nice day for fishing, especially for barely the turn of the new year in the northern hemisphere. We stumble upon this boat for a very particular reason, and that reason is-
[RI-I-I-I-ING!!!]
"What the fresh hell is going on? I was trying to get my midday nap in!"
"Roy, that was your alarm. You set it yourself. On your phone."
The young Speede sits up, his hair a mess and his eyes barely cracked to adjust to the light shining through the window into the cabin of the boat. Standing in the doorway are two other familiar faces: Alex Haden, and Nolan Walker, two of Speede's closest friends and former training partners/tag team partners in the wrestling world.
"Oh. So I did... Did you catch anything yet?"
"Not a single bite all day. We might as well have just slept in at this rate."
"Yeah, no kidding. I mean, at the rate things are going, the rent to dock the boat is more than anyone could ever hope to make back in profit. I think we should just sell it and give up on it."
"You mean like I've given up on every other damned thing in my life? I mean, the acting gig fell through and I never went to another audition, I never was able to hold onto a football well enough to go pro at running back, and I can't tell you how pissed off I got that I never managed to win a World Title. Hell, even running my own gym didn't pan out like I would've hoped."
"You're not even twenty-five years old yet! You've got plenty of time to improve on any wild dream you've got in your head, but this definitely isn't it. That doesn't mean you can't keep trying at one of those things. But seriously, a fishing boat? What kind of crazy fucking idea is that? And just who do you really think is going to be paying attention to a live-stream of you on a fishing boat?"
"You know... I think you're right. But just for the sake of things, let's say someone is paying attention right now. Where do you actually want me to go with this? Are you saying I should go back to football? Or maybe that I need to get back into shape for the wrestling ring?"
"Dude, you may not think a whole lot of it, but we were tag team champions back in the day. And if I remember correctly, you had two belts at the same time! I don't recall anybody else being able to do that in their first three months as a professional wrestler."
"Yeah, but all that potential, and I didn't even do anything with it, Alex. I mean, a couple tag title reigns, a couple secondary-level title belts, so what? Who ever made a name for themselves out of being a career second rate star and just let everybody else walk right on past to make it to the big time?"
"Oh, I could name a few people. Adam Young, Doc Henry..."
"That's not the point, Nolan! Genesis was supposed to be the biggest faction in professional wrestling history. Five of the biggest names that company had to offer, and I was the only one who didn't win the big one. And now after all this time, I'm supposed to go back to that and just say 'Oh, hi, remember me? I want my world title shot now, thank you.'? I tried that with the Wednesday Night show, and I couldn't produce one episode. ONE EPISODE! Half my booked stars didn't show up to the thing and even an Internet-broadcast show came crashing to the ground. And that whole Anon Y. Mous gimmick. What the hell was I thinking? Who ever had more success going behind a mask? Gravedigger? Yeah, like anybody thought Hector Rodriguez was a credible threat compared to the big shot? Wake up, Nolan! That was a waste of time! Wrestling wasn't for me. It may have been my heritage, but I couldn't live up to that kind of legacy. I have to find what really works for me, not just follow up in my dad's footsteps and hope that what my family did was really where I belong."
"So I should just tell Gravedigger 'no' then?"
"'No' what? does he want me to come back and form a tag team or something? Because we tried that. The whole club with Deruty fell through faster than Genesis."
"I saw a thing going around that he and some of the big-named folks from WCF's past were starting up a new wrestling program, and it was like an invitation to audition for the past and present WCF stars. I'm pretty sure there's even a voicemail on your cell phone from one of the representatives asking you to come in and talk about a contract."
"Wait, are you serious? Let's not be so hasty to refuse. I'd love to at least hear a pitch."
"Even after the past you had with Gravedigger?"
"Yeah. We may have had one of the more significant feuds of my career, but I would be lying if I didn't say I respected the hell out of the guy. And who knows, maybe we'll coexist a bit better when he's not staring me down in the ring and expecting me to take a beating like everyone else."
"Yeah, he'll just be watching from the back expecting you to take a beating."
"Whatever. I'll talk to him. What's the worst that could happen? We don't agree on a contract? I bet Seth will take me back. He hasn't said no before."
"Seth's not in charge there anymore?"
"What?! Yeah, I'll give Digger a call as soon as we make it back to shore. If I'm gonna get back in the ring, I'm at least gonna do things right."
Speede stands up and pushes past the other two out of the cabin, making his way to the wheel, presumably to steer the boat to land.
---
11 January 2018
Roy pushes open a door, leading him into a bland hallway with tiled floors and white-painted walls that are interrupted every so far by other doors, some labeled with nameplates. He walks along, reading the plates as if searching for a door in particular, and when he reaches one, he looks down at a small piece of paper now visible for a split second in his hand, before knocking and tucking the piece of paper into the pocket of his slacks. The door opens a moment later, and the door opens inward revealing an office. A female voice comes from within.
"Ahh, Mister Speede, right on time, I see. I've spoken with our administrative team, and they've given me full permission to sign you to a contract if we can reach an agreement. We're hoping to do so as soon as possible; the first show is expected to occur this time next month."
Speede steps into the room, and the woman inside closes the door, before pacing back over to her desk, her heels clicking against the tiled floor within the office with each step. Roy takes a seat opposite her on the other side of the desk.
"Alright, that sounds good to me. So, what sort of administrative 'team' are we talking about here? I thought Gravedigger was running this ship."
"He's a part of the team, yes, but he's far from the only one running the company. In fact, from what I've been told, there are a few key figures hanging around that you've met in the past."
"Like whom?"
"Does that matter?"
"I mean, not really. I think if Gravedigger is in charge, this place has potential. So, what sort of plans does the team have in store for the company?"
"Well, I already said that we're putting together the debut of Action Wrestling next month. Our weekly program, Clash, is set to air Monday nights, and once a month we will have Pay-Per-Views; I'm sure you're used to this sort of setup?"
"Of course."
"We're looking for a locker room of strong competitors who aren't afraid to take a bump and give it right back to whomever delivered it. We are an equal opportunity employer, and plan to have a special division for lightweights, if you're interested, but men and women alike are eligible to challenge for the World Championship here at Action Wrestling; you're just as likely to face a female opponent as anyone else in the locker room, despite your gender."
"Did you just assume my gender?"
"No! My goodness, no! Of COURSE not!"
"Well, you should. What woman do you know with facial hair?"
"Alright, note for the file, pain in the rear. Gravedigger was right about you."
"What did he tell you about me?"
"That's not relevant. He authorized me to hire you to the company, so clearly it isn't all bad; I'm sure you've caught onto that thought."
"Fair enough."
"Anyway, as an application for a position on the Action Wrestling roster, you'll need to pass a physical and obtain medical authorization in order to compete, but I think that's probably a technicality, seeing as you've probably done that before. We expect professionalism, and I'm sure you understand the basics of how such a company has to look out for the well-being of all of its competitors; despite this, there are waivers you have to sign upon offer and acceptance of a contract to wrestle with us saying that you understand that Action Wrestling is not liable for any injury sustained before, during, or after any of our programs of which you may or may not be a part."
"Alright, skip the legal bullcrap. I know this stuff. I've done it all a thousand times by now. I want to know when, where, and against whom my first match is going to be."
"In due time, Mr. Speede. The first thing that has to be done is that we need to get you under contract and get your physical done. Then, you'll be taken to our training center to audition and determine your position in the company. If you're considered to be in capable shape, I believe Gravedigger said you might be eligible for a spot in the tournament to become the first Action Wrestling World Champion."
"I want to be in that tournament. That's going to be part of the requirement of my contract; I'm not signing unless you promise I'll have a shot at that tournament."
"I'm not sure I'm at liberty to give you a spot in the tournament just for signing with the company, but I'll speak with our booking executives and see what I can do. Now, as for the contract itself-"
Speede cuts her off.
"Digger knows what I was making elsewhere. Match it."
"Salary is negotiable, but for now, let's worry more about making sure you're ready for the first show. Here's the pre-emptive contract Gravedigger had me draw up prior to our meeting today. As you can see, his offer is rather generous, if I do say so myself."
She holds out a small packet of paperwork, stapled together, for him to take. He picks it up and starts reading, and for a few moments the room is silent. Finally, he breaks the silence.
"Alright, I think I can work with this. I mean, it's not perfect, but it'll do."
"If you wish to negotiate, I can call Gravedigger and we can schedule another meeting. Feel free to present a counter-offer."
"I'll sign this one as a temporary deal, and depending on how things go, I may schedule a meeting to talk to Gravedigger on my own and see what we can work out. I don't need to have a middle-man holding up communication."
"Suit yourself."
Speede grabs a pen and signs his name on the bottom of the last page.
"And initial here, sign here, and date."
She points to several more spots on the paper, and he does as asked.
"Done and done. We'll keep in touch with regard to designing a page for the company website dedicated to you as a member of our roster, and we can schedule an appointment with company physicians unless you have one of your own you'd prefer. Expect to hear from us within the next couple days!"
"Sounds good. Thank you very much, ma'am."
He stands, extending a hand for her to shake. As he turns to leave the room, he pauses.
"By the way, you got a copy of that contract for me?"
"Of course."
She pulls out a second, identical copy of the paperwork he just signed and hands it to him. He turns and opens the door, walking out with seemingly a bit of a spring to his step.
---
05 February 2018
A dark room, lit up only by the flashing light of a television; from what can be seen, it appears to be a hotel room. Roy is relaxing on the bed in this hotel room, watching some sort of television show. After a few moments, he reaches over, flicking on the bedside lamp, and turns off the television, drawing the room to complete silence. For a few moments, the scene seems to come to even more of a still than just prior, but he lets out a sigh, and finally speaks.
"You know, this time last year, I had just failed yet again. I tried my damnedest to put together the revival of the Wednesday Night production of my former place of employment in the wrestling world. It fell flat, and I again stepped back to pursue something completely different. I ran. I was scared of admitting to myself that I was nothing but a failure, and I got out of dodge before I could be blamed for my actions, before I could be looked at with any more disappointment than I already was. Here I am, the son of one of the greatest wrestlers in the history of that place, and I couldn't pull off running the 'B' show. Here I am, the son of a six-time world champion, the only six-time champion in the company's now-eighteen year history, and I couldn't even handle something as simple as making sure a few key people showed up. So yeah, I got out of there. I didn't want that to be my legacy, so why let them even know it was me in a mask the entire time?
"But they all found out. Of course, they all found out. Why wouldn't they? And it was Gravedigger who revealed my identity to the world. There wasn't an Anon Y. Mous anymore. It was Roy Speede, the pathetic little twerp who never amounted to any of the expectations set forth not only by his debut, but by the potential seen in him by the great Torture, and by his own heritage. So why should I have stuck around? What more did I have to gain by hiding under that mask? I got rid of it, and then I ran. One match under my true identity- half of a match really, because I entered that WAR as Anonymous. My mask only came off halfway through my appearance. In how many years now, I haven't put forth the effort that I actually needed to in order to find success in the business. In a way, I let my own underperformances consume me, and I wound up hating my legacy more than I did the expectations that I held.
"So I guess the question in the minds of a lot of people, why come back? Why now, so relatively soon after that embarrassment, and why to Action Wrestling? The answer is simple. In Action Wrestling, there isn't any of that history. I mean, there is; there are a lot of the same names here, from Gravedigger, to Deruty, to Torture himself, but it's a new start. Here, I'm not the annoying spawn of Logan; in Action Wrestling, I have the chance to make a name for myself that isn't attached to my dad. A fishing boat? What was I thinking? The sea isn't my home, and that isn't the life I want to live. Wrestling was my dream, and I wasn't happy with what would've otherwise been the end of my career. And now, I've got the chance to fix that, not only in the redebut of 'The Silver Lining', but in the debut of the company. I'm in the running to be the first World Champion; not the title my dad held, but a new belt, one that would look so beautiful with my name etched onto its nameplate, a belt without dents from people's skulls and bloodstains on the leather. A long history of impressive titleholders is nice, but who doesn't like shiny and new?
"Looking at the list of names in the running for this belt, there are a few that stand out as potential threats. I mean, there are the obvious ones- the giants like 'Big' John Frost and the other ex-competitors from the WCF like Alex Richards and Dionysus, but a few people on this list that really draw my interest.
First and foremost, Donald Deruty, or as some call him, D-Day. We have quite the history together, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let the nostalgia get the better of me. Listen up, buddy. There's a good chance that we're going to go on to face each other in the finals of this whole thing. And I've gotta tell you, bro, you're not getting the better of me this time. Former World Champion, say hello to the next World Champion. There's always the chance for us to team up and go after the tag belts or something. In fact, give me a call if you ever feel the urge to hold a title again; I'd be glad to help make that a reality, when it's not at my expense.
"Then, there's Spencer Adams, 'The Antidote', Alex Richards, and Dion. A bit of success elsewhere isn't going to get you any more special recognition than this. Stay out of my way, and there won't be a problem. Much like Deruty, in another universe, we'd probably all be one big clique of the biggest names to show up in this place. But as for right now, I've got a title to win; a stable can happen once a winner is cowned.
From what I've read about her, Beverly Adams is another name to pay attention to. See, Bev, you and I are a lot alike; we've both got championship pedigree to our names, but not much else. I think it'll be interesting to see what you've got. You're what I'd like to think of as a bit of a 'wildcard'.
TFK, the guy I've run into a couple times on twitter, has a big mouth, but I don't know enough to say he's got skills to back it up. He's another 'wildcard' to me in this thing, so I'm going to have to just wait and see. Good luck to you; who knows? Maybe you don't actually need it.
Then, there are my two possible second-round opponents, as far as what the bracket has to say: Cheyenne, and Camila Gonzalez. Either way, I'm going to have to send one girl back to the locker room a hot mess during this tournament. I think this is just going to have to serve as a warning to both of you, that your gender matters as little to me as the position on the card. One way or another, you're going to be up against a lot more than you can handle if you make it past the first round, and there's no free pass to the semi-finals to be found. Put in all the work you want; next week, you're going to regret making it to that stage."
Speede chuckles and stands up, crossing the room to the door of his hotel room. Once outside, he proceeds down the hall toward the elevator, continuint to gab as he does so.
"And last, and to be honest probably the least of my worries, Adam Young. We've been intertwined in the same corporate body for pretty much my entire career, and during the time I've been a wrestler, I've never seen someone quite so disappointing in the ring as Adam Young. I get it, wrestling isn't for everyone, and I admire your drive to continue working toward it no matter for how many three-counts you find your shoulders on the mat. But between us, I think it's quite clear who the better wrestler is, Young. Why you made your way to Action Wrestling just to lose to me and wind up in perpetual jobberdom, I'll never know."
[DING!]
The elevator beeps and the doors open. Speede steps inside, alone with the cameraman once in.
"One thing's for sure, though, Adam. This is going to be fun. I don't actually recall facing you one-on-one in the WCF, and getting to do so on the first episode of Clash is going to be a momentuous occasion. We'll steal the show, knowing your moveset; and yet, when the smoke clears, I'll still have my hand raised. And who knows? Maybe you'll luck out and walk away with the TV Title at the end of the night, and get to call yourself the first titleholder in Action Wrestling? That'd be a fun claim to fame; 'hey, I got to be the first one to walk around with a belt to show off!' The flaw, of course, being in that the only ones in that match will have lost their first match of the night. So go for it, dude. Have some fun. But don't expect too much up against me. You don't have much of a chance. Consider that TV Title opportunity to be your 'Silver Lining'."
The scene opens on a thirty-eight foot fishing boat floating somewhere off the US coastline in the Atlantic. Or maybe the Caribbean, but who really cares where it is? The fact of the matter is, all that can be seen for miles around in any direction one were to look is open sea, a bright blue sky with the stray cloud or two, and glistening sunlight, making the day a surprisingly nice day for fishing, especially for barely the turn of the new year in the northern hemisphere. We stumble upon this boat for a very particular reason, and that reason is-
[RI-I-I-I-ING!!!]
"What the fresh hell is going on? I was trying to get my midday nap in!"
"Roy, that was your alarm. You set it yourself. On your phone."
The young Speede sits up, his hair a mess and his eyes barely cracked to adjust to the light shining through the window into the cabin of the boat. Standing in the doorway are two other familiar faces: Alex Haden, and Nolan Walker, two of Speede's closest friends and former training partners/tag team partners in the wrestling world.
"Oh. So I did... Did you catch anything yet?"
"Not a single bite all day. We might as well have just slept in at this rate."
"Yeah, no kidding. I mean, at the rate things are going, the rent to dock the boat is more than anyone could ever hope to make back in profit. I think we should just sell it and give up on it."
"You mean like I've given up on every other damned thing in my life? I mean, the acting gig fell through and I never went to another audition, I never was able to hold onto a football well enough to go pro at running back, and I can't tell you how pissed off I got that I never managed to win a World Title. Hell, even running my own gym didn't pan out like I would've hoped."
"You're not even twenty-five years old yet! You've got plenty of time to improve on any wild dream you've got in your head, but this definitely isn't it. That doesn't mean you can't keep trying at one of those things. But seriously, a fishing boat? What kind of crazy fucking idea is that? And just who do you really think is going to be paying attention to a live-stream of you on a fishing boat?"
"You know... I think you're right. But just for the sake of things, let's say someone is paying attention right now. Where do you actually want me to go with this? Are you saying I should go back to football? Or maybe that I need to get back into shape for the wrestling ring?"
"Dude, you may not think a whole lot of it, but we were tag team champions back in the day. And if I remember correctly, you had two belts at the same time! I don't recall anybody else being able to do that in their first three months as a professional wrestler."
"Yeah, but all that potential, and I didn't even do anything with it, Alex. I mean, a couple tag title reigns, a couple secondary-level title belts, so what? Who ever made a name for themselves out of being a career second rate star and just let everybody else walk right on past to make it to the big time?"
"Oh, I could name a few people. Adam Young, Doc Henry..."
"That's not the point, Nolan! Genesis was supposed to be the biggest faction in professional wrestling history. Five of the biggest names that company had to offer, and I was the only one who didn't win the big one. And now after all this time, I'm supposed to go back to that and just say 'Oh, hi, remember me? I want my world title shot now, thank you.'? I tried that with the Wednesday Night show, and I couldn't produce one episode. ONE EPISODE! Half my booked stars didn't show up to the thing and even an Internet-broadcast show came crashing to the ground. And that whole Anon Y. Mous gimmick. What the hell was I thinking? Who ever had more success going behind a mask? Gravedigger? Yeah, like anybody thought Hector Rodriguez was a credible threat compared to the big shot? Wake up, Nolan! That was a waste of time! Wrestling wasn't for me. It may have been my heritage, but I couldn't live up to that kind of legacy. I have to find what really works for me, not just follow up in my dad's footsteps and hope that what my family did was really where I belong."
"So I should just tell Gravedigger 'no' then?"
"'No' what? does he want me to come back and form a tag team or something? Because we tried that. The whole club with Deruty fell through faster than Genesis."
"I saw a thing going around that he and some of the big-named folks from WCF's past were starting up a new wrestling program, and it was like an invitation to audition for the past and present WCF stars. I'm pretty sure there's even a voicemail on your cell phone from one of the representatives asking you to come in and talk about a contract."
"Wait, are you serious? Let's not be so hasty to refuse. I'd love to at least hear a pitch."
"Even after the past you had with Gravedigger?"
"Yeah. We may have had one of the more significant feuds of my career, but I would be lying if I didn't say I respected the hell out of the guy. And who knows, maybe we'll coexist a bit better when he's not staring me down in the ring and expecting me to take a beating like everyone else."
"Yeah, he'll just be watching from the back expecting you to take a beating."
"Whatever. I'll talk to him. What's the worst that could happen? We don't agree on a contract? I bet Seth will take me back. He hasn't said no before."
"Seth's not in charge there anymore?"
"What?! Yeah, I'll give Digger a call as soon as we make it back to shore. If I'm gonna get back in the ring, I'm at least gonna do things right."
Speede stands up and pushes past the other two out of the cabin, making his way to the wheel, presumably to steer the boat to land.
---
11 January 2018
Roy pushes open a door, leading him into a bland hallway with tiled floors and white-painted walls that are interrupted every so far by other doors, some labeled with nameplates. He walks along, reading the plates as if searching for a door in particular, and when he reaches one, he looks down at a small piece of paper now visible for a split second in his hand, before knocking and tucking the piece of paper into the pocket of his slacks. The door opens a moment later, and the door opens inward revealing an office. A female voice comes from within.
"Ahh, Mister Speede, right on time, I see. I've spoken with our administrative team, and they've given me full permission to sign you to a contract if we can reach an agreement. We're hoping to do so as soon as possible; the first show is expected to occur this time next month."
Speede steps into the room, and the woman inside closes the door, before pacing back over to her desk, her heels clicking against the tiled floor within the office with each step. Roy takes a seat opposite her on the other side of the desk.
"Alright, that sounds good to me. So, what sort of administrative 'team' are we talking about here? I thought Gravedigger was running this ship."
"He's a part of the team, yes, but he's far from the only one running the company. In fact, from what I've been told, there are a few key figures hanging around that you've met in the past."
"Like whom?"
"Does that matter?"
"I mean, not really. I think if Gravedigger is in charge, this place has potential. So, what sort of plans does the team have in store for the company?"
"Well, I already said that we're putting together the debut of Action Wrestling next month. Our weekly program, Clash, is set to air Monday nights, and once a month we will have Pay-Per-Views; I'm sure you're used to this sort of setup?"
"Of course."
"We're looking for a locker room of strong competitors who aren't afraid to take a bump and give it right back to whomever delivered it. We are an equal opportunity employer, and plan to have a special division for lightweights, if you're interested, but men and women alike are eligible to challenge for the World Championship here at Action Wrestling; you're just as likely to face a female opponent as anyone else in the locker room, despite your gender."
"Did you just assume my gender?"
"No! My goodness, no! Of COURSE not!"
"Well, you should. What woman do you know with facial hair?"
"Alright, note for the file, pain in the rear. Gravedigger was right about you."
"What did he tell you about me?"
"That's not relevant. He authorized me to hire you to the company, so clearly it isn't all bad; I'm sure you've caught onto that thought."
"Fair enough."
"Anyway, as an application for a position on the Action Wrestling roster, you'll need to pass a physical and obtain medical authorization in order to compete, but I think that's probably a technicality, seeing as you've probably done that before. We expect professionalism, and I'm sure you understand the basics of how such a company has to look out for the well-being of all of its competitors; despite this, there are waivers you have to sign upon offer and acceptance of a contract to wrestle with us saying that you understand that Action Wrestling is not liable for any injury sustained before, during, or after any of our programs of which you may or may not be a part."
"Alright, skip the legal bullcrap. I know this stuff. I've done it all a thousand times by now. I want to know when, where, and against whom my first match is going to be."
"In due time, Mr. Speede. The first thing that has to be done is that we need to get you under contract and get your physical done. Then, you'll be taken to our training center to audition and determine your position in the company. If you're considered to be in capable shape, I believe Gravedigger said you might be eligible for a spot in the tournament to become the first Action Wrestling World Champion."
"I want to be in that tournament. That's going to be part of the requirement of my contract; I'm not signing unless you promise I'll have a shot at that tournament."
"I'm not sure I'm at liberty to give you a spot in the tournament just for signing with the company, but I'll speak with our booking executives and see what I can do. Now, as for the contract itself-"
Speede cuts her off.
"Digger knows what I was making elsewhere. Match it."
"Salary is negotiable, but for now, let's worry more about making sure you're ready for the first show. Here's the pre-emptive contract Gravedigger had me draw up prior to our meeting today. As you can see, his offer is rather generous, if I do say so myself."
She holds out a small packet of paperwork, stapled together, for him to take. He picks it up and starts reading, and for a few moments the room is silent. Finally, he breaks the silence.
"Alright, I think I can work with this. I mean, it's not perfect, but it'll do."
"If you wish to negotiate, I can call Gravedigger and we can schedule another meeting. Feel free to present a counter-offer."
"I'll sign this one as a temporary deal, and depending on how things go, I may schedule a meeting to talk to Gravedigger on my own and see what we can work out. I don't need to have a middle-man holding up communication."
"Suit yourself."
Speede grabs a pen and signs his name on the bottom of the last page.
"And initial here, sign here, and date."
She points to several more spots on the paper, and he does as asked.
"Done and done. We'll keep in touch with regard to designing a page for the company website dedicated to you as a member of our roster, and we can schedule an appointment with company physicians unless you have one of your own you'd prefer. Expect to hear from us within the next couple days!"
"Sounds good. Thank you very much, ma'am."
He stands, extending a hand for her to shake. As he turns to leave the room, he pauses.
"By the way, you got a copy of that contract for me?"
"Of course."
She pulls out a second, identical copy of the paperwork he just signed and hands it to him. He turns and opens the door, walking out with seemingly a bit of a spring to his step.
---
05 February 2018
A dark room, lit up only by the flashing light of a television; from what can be seen, it appears to be a hotel room. Roy is relaxing on the bed in this hotel room, watching some sort of television show. After a few moments, he reaches over, flicking on the bedside lamp, and turns off the television, drawing the room to complete silence. For a few moments, the scene seems to come to even more of a still than just prior, but he lets out a sigh, and finally speaks.
"You know, this time last year, I had just failed yet again. I tried my damnedest to put together the revival of the Wednesday Night production of my former place of employment in the wrestling world. It fell flat, and I again stepped back to pursue something completely different. I ran. I was scared of admitting to myself that I was nothing but a failure, and I got out of dodge before I could be blamed for my actions, before I could be looked at with any more disappointment than I already was. Here I am, the son of one of the greatest wrestlers in the history of that place, and I couldn't pull off running the 'B' show. Here I am, the son of a six-time world champion, the only six-time champion in the company's now-eighteen year history, and I couldn't even handle something as simple as making sure a few key people showed up. So yeah, I got out of there. I didn't want that to be my legacy, so why let them even know it was me in a mask the entire time?
"But they all found out. Of course, they all found out. Why wouldn't they? And it was Gravedigger who revealed my identity to the world. There wasn't an Anon Y. Mous anymore. It was Roy Speede, the pathetic little twerp who never amounted to any of the expectations set forth not only by his debut, but by the potential seen in him by the great Torture, and by his own heritage. So why should I have stuck around? What more did I have to gain by hiding under that mask? I got rid of it, and then I ran. One match under my true identity- half of a match really, because I entered that WAR as Anonymous. My mask only came off halfway through my appearance. In how many years now, I haven't put forth the effort that I actually needed to in order to find success in the business. In a way, I let my own underperformances consume me, and I wound up hating my legacy more than I did the expectations that I held.
"So I guess the question in the minds of a lot of people, why come back? Why now, so relatively soon after that embarrassment, and why to Action Wrestling? The answer is simple. In Action Wrestling, there isn't any of that history. I mean, there is; there are a lot of the same names here, from Gravedigger, to Deruty, to Torture himself, but it's a new start. Here, I'm not the annoying spawn of Logan; in Action Wrestling, I have the chance to make a name for myself that isn't attached to my dad. A fishing boat? What was I thinking? The sea isn't my home, and that isn't the life I want to live. Wrestling was my dream, and I wasn't happy with what would've otherwise been the end of my career. And now, I've got the chance to fix that, not only in the redebut of 'The Silver Lining', but in the debut of the company. I'm in the running to be the first World Champion; not the title my dad held, but a new belt, one that would look so beautiful with my name etched onto its nameplate, a belt without dents from people's skulls and bloodstains on the leather. A long history of impressive titleholders is nice, but who doesn't like shiny and new?
"Looking at the list of names in the running for this belt, there are a few that stand out as potential threats. I mean, there are the obvious ones- the giants like 'Big' John Frost and the other ex-competitors from the WCF like Alex Richards and Dionysus, but a few people on this list that really draw my interest.
First and foremost, Donald Deruty, or as some call him, D-Day. We have quite the history together, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let the nostalgia get the better of me. Listen up, buddy. There's a good chance that we're going to go on to face each other in the finals of this whole thing. And I've gotta tell you, bro, you're not getting the better of me this time. Former World Champion, say hello to the next World Champion. There's always the chance for us to team up and go after the tag belts or something. In fact, give me a call if you ever feel the urge to hold a title again; I'd be glad to help make that a reality, when it's not at my expense.
"Then, there's Spencer Adams, 'The Antidote', Alex Richards, and Dion. A bit of success elsewhere isn't going to get you any more special recognition than this. Stay out of my way, and there won't be a problem. Much like Deruty, in another universe, we'd probably all be one big clique of the biggest names to show up in this place. But as for right now, I've got a title to win; a stable can happen once a winner is cowned.
From what I've read about her, Beverly Adams is another name to pay attention to. See, Bev, you and I are a lot alike; we've both got championship pedigree to our names, but not much else. I think it'll be interesting to see what you've got. You're what I'd like to think of as a bit of a 'wildcard'.
TFK, the guy I've run into a couple times on twitter, has a big mouth, but I don't know enough to say he's got skills to back it up. He's another 'wildcard' to me in this thing, so I'm going to have to just wait and see. Good luck to you; who knows? Maybe you don't actually need it.
Then, there are my two possible second-round opponents, as far as what the bracket has to say: Cheyenne, and Camila Gonzalez. Either way, I'm going to have to send one girl back to the locker room a hot mess during this tournament. I think this is just going to have to serve as a warning to both of you, that your gender matters as little to me as the position on the card. One way or another, you're going to be up against a lot more than you can handle if you make it past the first round, and there's no free pass to the semi-finals to be found. Put in all the work you want; next week, you're going to regret making it to that stage."
Speede chuckles and stands up, crossing the room to the door of his hotel room. Once outside, he proceeds down the hall toward the elevator, continuint to gab as he does so.
"And last, and to be honest probably the least of my worries, Adam Young. We've been intertwined in the same corporate body for pretty much my entire career, and during the time I've been a wrestler, I've never seen someone quite so disappointing in the ring as Adam Young. I get it, wrestling isn't for everyone, and I admire your drive to continue working toward it no matter for how many three-counts you find your shoulders on the mat. But between us, I think it's quite clear who the better wrestler is, Young. Why you made your way to Action Wrestling just to lose to me and wind up in perpetual jobberdom, I'll never know."
[DING!]
The elevator beeps and the doors open. Speede steps inside, alone with the cameraman once in.
"One thing's for sure, though, Adam. This is going to be fun. I don't actually recall facing you one-on-one in the WCF, and getting to do so on the first episode of Clash is going to be a momentuous occasion. We'll steal the show, knowing your moveset; and yet, when the smoke clears, I'll still have my hand raised. And who knows? Maybe you'll luck out and walk away with the TV Title at the end of the night, and get to call yourself the first titleholder in Action Wrestling? That'd be a fun claim to fame; 'hey, I got to be the first one to walk around with a belt to show off!' The flaw, of course, being in that the only ones in that match will have lost their first match of the night. So go for it, dude. Have some fun. But don't expect too much up against me. You don't have much of a chance. Consider that TV Title opportunity to be your 'Silver Lining'."