Post by Roy Speede on Feb 25, 2018 22:40:30 GMT -5
19 February 2018
Roy Speede plops down onto a bench in the locker room, his chest still rising and falling at an increased rate from the intensity of his last match. His face is slightly swollen on one side due to a backfist he took during his match. He leans down to untie his boots, looking over at the door to the locker room to make sure there will be no interruption from an interviewer, before actually taking them off. From around the corner, he hears a voice.
"Well, it looks like you made good on that promise to continue on to the next round. Camila will be feeling that for a while."
Speede looks up to see Alex Haden approaching him, arms crossed and a small smirk on his face.
"What's that look for?"
"I see the rejuvenated Roy Speede you've become since you signed with this company. The last time you were this excited about getting involved in the wrestling business, you became a double champion in the span of a couple weeks. Sure, I was involved, but still... You're in a position to go after the World Championship in two weeks. I want to be a part of that."
"And by that, you mean...?"
"I'm going to be interviewing with one of the aides Torture and Gravedigger have helping them run this place. I want to do something like this again, and Action Wrestling seems to be the place to be."
"Alex, you don't have any idea what you're getting into. he competition here is insane. I mean, Camila Gonzales was in her second professional wrestling match, and she nearly had me on more than one occasion! Once I get out of here, I'm due at the trainer's office to make sure that swelling isn't a sign of greater damage. Trust me, this place is the real deal."
"And I'm ready for that! I mean, you may have been the more successful one the last time we teamed up, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to let you be the only one to ever achieve any glory as a result. Hell, even if it means going after the 201 Championship, at this point, it's been six years since I've competed. Gold is gold, and if it serves as a stepping stone to get me further in this business than the last time, I'm in."
"Yeah, but last time you were involved, Torture was in charge. He's in charge again; do you really think that it's a good idea to let him decide things again?"
"It's working for you! When was the last time you were this close to a World Championship?"
"Twenty twelve, when I won the Hardcore belt... I was one pin away from the whole shebang."
"Exactly. And now next week you've got a match that can put you a single three-count away from it all over again. Think about it. This is a good opportunity for me."
"Fine, fine, whatever, just... just don't get in my way."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Last time we were a team, I never saw the big time, and I wound up having to fight twice in one night because you wanted to show the world what you could do. I've got a bigger chance. I don't want to spoil it because you're showing up here wanting to wrestle because it'll only result in me winding up in the tag team division again. I'm not saying that's necessarily the worst thing in the world, but compared to the World Championship sitting two weeks away from me with a nameplate already carved out in case I win, I don't want to screw this up."
Speede stands up defensively, as if indicating that he's weary of what may happen.
"Alright, dude. Whatever you say. I'll talk to you about this later."
Alex pushes past him and leaves the locker room, letting Speede get dressed.
"I swear, Alex, there's too much here for you to succeed; get your head out of your ass before you screw up for yourself and screw up for me. Even if I wind up in the tag division, I'm going to find a real tag partner, not a childhood friend."
The scene fades to black, probably so Speede can change his clothes without this turning into a porno.
---
20 February 2018
The scene opens outside a Dick's Sporting Goods store, where Speede is climbing out of his rental Honda in the parking lot. He proceeds across the parking lot and into the store, where he pauses and his eyes scan the entire store from left to right, seemingly searching for something. An employee passes, and Speede holds up a hand, getting his attention and stopping him from continuing on about his duty.
"Excuse me, do you guys sell athletic cups?"
"We do! Are you looking for any particular brand or model?"
"Something extra sturdy, I don't care what brand. The best one you've got."
"I think I might have just the thing."
The employee leads Speede back past some of the basketball and football equipment into a section of the store specializing in specialty athletic attire. Turning and motioning to the wall, Speede looks up to see a wide variety available, hesitating for a moment until the young man sheepishly grabs one of the curved pieces of plastic wrapped in a transparent packaging from its hook on the wall.
"This is one of our most popular choices. It's made with an industrial strength polycarbonate that should withstand any size ball without any harm to you, and depending on the accident is also pretty useful when it comes to falls and tackles if you're looking more at a football-type usage."
"Oh, no, no, that's not what I meant. Do you have any steel? Titanium? Heck, even a strong iron one would be fine."
There is a momentary pause as the employee processes what was said to him, and he looks at Roy with a confused expression as if he's sprouting horns or something equally bizarre.
"I'm sorry, a metal athletic cup...?"
"Yeah, for a professional wrestler. I want something that'll crack a guy's wrist or break his toe if he tries to attack my groin."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"My next opponent is notorious for cheap shots to the groin. I want to leave him hurting as bad or worse than I am, and a protective cup is about the best way to do it."
"I... I don't think we sell metal ones. I don't think they make metal ones, actually. Too heavy and more likely to hang too low in your trousers when you're running or participating in athletic activity in them."
"'Trousers? What are you, British?"
"Well, my dad is, yeah."
"Ahh well, at least he's not a Russian douchebag."
"My mom is Russian!"
"Oh, uh... So, no metal athletic cups?"
"No."
"Alright, I'll try this one. Got a strap to go with it?"
"Yeah, they're right there."
He points to a selection of jockstraps hanging to Speede's right, literally the next bay of products over.
"Cool. I can take it from here, thank you, mister..."
"Alexander."
"Of course. That's everyone's name around here..."
The employee walks away, leaving Roy to figure out his purchase for himself. After staring at them for a few minutes, picking a couple up and reading the labels of each, and pondering a bit more, he spins to walk away, the strap hanging around his wrist as he carries the athletic cup with the same hand. Making his way up to the front and to the checkout counters, he passes a display of wrestling gear, including pads and boots. He pauses and looks for a few minutes, when a familiar voice comes from behind him.
"I see you're getting some new gear."
Speede looks over his shoulder to see Alex Haden standing behind him, eyeing products as well.
"Don't tell me. You're here shopping for ring stuff too?"
"Well, kinda. I didn't bring my stuff with me so I don't have anything for a tryout, and I figure getting some basic, generic-looking stuff is a lot easier than flying all the way back home to get my stuff."
"Yeah, but seriously, dude, you're going to be way in over your head with Action Wrestling."
"If I remember correctly, it was only a month or to ago you were saying the same thing to me, from the comfort of a fishing boat no less. You want to talk about not having done this for a while and being out of shape, go for it, but it didn't hold you back any. I think I'm going to have a pretty good shot, whether you like it or not."
"Whatever, Alex. I've gotta get going. I'm going to study the gameplan a bit more tonight and see what I can dig up on Pasternak other than him being a slimy cheater."
"And how many slimy cheaters have had success in this business compared to the people that are honest and play by the rules? Look at Logan; heck, look at Torture and Digger. Neither of them played fair the majority of the time they were competing, and yet, here we are in their company! Don't you think the irony of that is at least a bit enjoyable to them?"
"Maybe. But look at the other half of the bracket; D-Day is in the semifinals, and he never cheated a single match of his life. And I'm here, and I don't think I technically ever cheated, though that duct tape thing I did at my first Pay-Per-View was kinda funny."
"Yeah, that was cheating."
"What, duct-taping someone's feet so they can't get up from the ring post?"
"Yeah, even if it was funny, it was cheating."
"Fine, but at least that wasn't a complete cheap shot. Look at Richards; he's out of this tournament because Alexander Pasternak wouldn't stop attacking his groin. I swear, it was like he was an outbreak of herpes or something."
"Did you just call your opponent this week 'herpes'?"
"I did."
"Then you probably ought to get some wrestling gloves and a long sleeve shirt so you don't get infected."
"Fair enough, my friend. Fair enough."
The two share in a laugh as Alex searches for his wrestling gear, and Speede nods his head, shaking Alex's hand before turning around and continuing toward the front of the store to complete his shopping trip.
---
Later that Day...
The scene opens to show Roy sitting in a reclining chair with a laptop in his lap, the sounds of a crowd and presumably a match or something of that nature on the screen. As the camera pans around, it can be seen that he is watching footage of the previous day's broadcast of Clash, particularly, the 'match' between Alex Richards and Alexander Pasternak.
Pasternak hits Richards right in the dick when he was coming down and Richards kneels over in the middle of the ring holding his groin which has now been attacked a second time! The ref gives a warning to Pasternak as he stands up and smiles. He grabs Richards and hits Cheeki Breeki Driver right in the middle of the ring!
Speede shakes his head and lets out a sigh that sounds quite stressed. At that moment, a knock comes from the door of his hotel room, and he hesitantly closes the laptop before setting it beside his chair and lowering the footrest, springing to his feet to approach the door. Upon opening the door, a pizza delivery boy is seen outside.
"Pizza delivery for Roy?"
"Yup, that'd be me."
"Cool, that'll be twelve thirty-nine."
Speede hands the guy a twenty and is handed the pizza while the young man reaches into his pocket in an attempt to find change.
"Don't worry about it. Thanks for coming up here instead of making me wait in the lobby."
"You're welcome. Have a good night!"
Roy closes the door and spins on his heel, setting the pizza box on the edge of his bed before sitting down next to it. He seemingly starts talking to himself.
"Ya know, if I were smart, I'd be laying off the fatty junk food right now. But I don't need to spend every waking moment at the gym; I'm Roy Speede, dammit. Alexander Pasternak won't know what hit him."
There is another knock at the door, but before Speede can even stand up, it swings open, and Nolan Walker walks into the room.
"Did you know Alex is trying out for ADub?"
"Yeah, he told me. I'm not excited about it, either."
"Why not? This could be a chance to reunite the old team!"
"Yeah, I'm not looking to go back to that place. I've already told him, Action Wrestling is a lot more dangerous than he thinks it's going to be. If he even gets past try-outs, I give it a month. And I'll tell you one thing, he's going to get stuck in the 201 division, and with the size of his ego and ridiculous self-confidence, that's not going to end well."
"Yeah, I know, but you need to support him, Roy. He's always had your back; now you're saying you don't have his?"
"In Action Wrestling, it's important to guard your own back before worrying about everyone else's. If anything, I think that if he makes it, you should ask Gravedigger or whoever about becoming his manager so you can watch his back for him."
"No way, man. I'm not getting involved at that level here. I've got bigger things to worry about than whether or not Alex is taking precautions in the ring. But still- hey, is that pizza?"
"No, it's a salad in a pizza box. Duh it's a pizza."
"Can I have a slice?"
Speede takes a deep breath.
"I guess, knock yourself out."
Nolan opens the box and looks down to see Hawaiian pizza. He shakes his head slightly and grabs a slice, picking the pineapple off and putting it back in the box as he speaks.
"What's wrong, dudeman?"
"I guess I'm just starting to feel a bit more pressure. I know I had a lot of eyes on me back in WCF, but this is different. I'm one win away from my first solo shot at a World Title, and I really haven't been this close before. I mean, I was damned close at one point with the dub, but... I have a shot this time. I can do this. I just have to get past Pasternak."
"And Deruty. Or Spencer Adams."
"Right. And regardless of which of them makes it to the finals, it's my time to shine, but Pasternak... I don't know, dude. I'm worried. I always get anxious when I know I'm up against a notorious cheater. You remember my fights with Gravedigger. You remember my Hardcore Title defenses. Those weren't even cheating, but I was always shaky before I fought those fights."
"You never let anyone see that. Why are you showing everyone your vulnerable side now suddenly?"
"I don't... I guess you're right. I mean, I made it this far, what's one more match? And I'm taking precautions to avoid getting myself hurt."
"Exactly. The Roy I know wouldn't let someone get in their head like this."
"He's not in my head!"
"Uh huh, that's why you ordered a Hawaiian pizza."
"Dude, pineapple on a pizza is good!"
"You said the same thing about cheese on a hotdog, and I can't stand that either."
"Whatever, dude. I think I'm gonna just take the rest of the night to focus on myself, and then tomorrow I'll really delve into studying and training."
"Alright, just don't let it go too long."
Roy grabs a slice of pizza, and the extra pineapple chunks that Nolan took off of his own, and takes a ridiculously large bite out of it, barely chewing before swallowing as if he hadn't eaten in days. The scene fades to black.
---
23 February 2018
The scene opens to the inside of a gym and fitness center. The camera unnecessarily turns to follow a pair of blondes in sports bras and yoga pants, zooming in on their rear ends only for Roy's voice to draw the camera snapping away to find him.
"I'm over here! I know, I know, I want to stare too, but I've got a lot more on my mind than the nearest booty call."
Speede is on an inclined treadmill, moving at a modest pace that doesn't seem to have his breathing increased much, if at all. The camera draws nearer to him and circles around to face him.
"Alright, that's better. I figured I'd present the State of the Locker Room Address a little early this week, since my brain has been exploding with activity about how to go about this thing all week to this point. We're finally seeing a few new faces roll into the locker room after a couple successful weeks for some guys and some much less successful weeks for others, and I gotta say, I wish these newbies luck. Some of them may even be hugely successful, but I can honestly say, I don't count any of them as likely success stories before seeing what they can do.
Speaking of likely success stories, let's take a look at that second round of the tournament; it seems like a lot of guys and girls that are getting eliminated from this tournament earlier than they'd like are having compensatory opportunities, and I kinda like management's plan with that. People like TFK, Richards, Dionysus, are all really skilled folk, and even Camila Gonzales isn't just fading from the watchful eye of the crowd. But none of them could get the job done at the highest level, and now instead of chasing the World Championship, they're going for a much less appealing prize in the United States Championship. Can't really knock a chance at gold, but this tournament is down to four, and it's really showing who in this company is slated to be the best of the best.
Donald Deruty, as I expected, is still going, and I think the sound of Deruty vs Speede has 'instant classic' written all over it. The underdog who managed to get over the hill, squaring up against the guy everyone thought would make it but who never did. Fans will be lining up for Revolution before the locker room at the T-Mobile Arena even clears itself out.
Spencer Adams is in the semifinals, and as I'm sure some are aware, 'The Antidote has been the more recent variant of yours truly- the guy who was expected to strike it big, but didn't quite make it on one of the biggest stages in wrestling. Admittedly, once he took the Gravedigger route and ran a show for a while, he seems to have gotten his head on straight and found exactly what he needs to be and what he needs to do to make it, but that remains to be seen.
Whichever of those two I find myself up against in the finals, we're going to have ourselves a hell of a coronation for the first World Champion. But you know who's not going to make it to that stage?
Alexander Pasternak.
Now, one one hand, I give him credit where credit is due, Pasternak has some in-ring skills that have bested everyone he's gone against. I would've expected this match to be Roy vs Alex Richards, but Pasternak found a way to get done what was needed. But let's get real, it was a fluke victory. If Pasternak learned to play by the rules, that match would've gone vastly differently, and after witnessing what happened, those two shots heard round the world, I know for a fact that I'm going to be ready for anything and everything he has to throw at me in terms of unlawfully gaining the upper hand.
Unlike Alexander Pasternak, I don't need to cheat to get the job done. Yeah, I'll admit that some unforeseen circumstances led to the outcome that occurred in my match earlier in the same evening, but taking a look back, it's quite clear that even without a little music playing over the speakers, yours truly would've picked up the win. Nobody is going to survive a headshot and a silver bullet and still walk away with the victory. Gonzales was already in position to take the fall; Lisa just so happened to show up at the wrong time. But, I guess there's a silver lining in that statement; Camila has a new tag team partner, and once Alexander Pasternak suffers the same fate, he'll be able to move on to opportunities more fitting of his ability level, once he figures out how to fight like a man instead of playing a foolish game like he did with Richards.
The difference is, I'm prepared for him to try to cheapshot me. I've studied that strategy, and Pasternak doesn't have an advantage anymore. The difference is, I've got the experience necessary to redirect his conniving misdeeds back at him. So Alex Richards, eat your heart out, buddy; I'm gonna get revenge on your behalf. Maybe you can get another opportunity in the future at the belt, or at the guy who screwed you over. But I'm going to shut his dream of being the first Action Wrestling World Champion down on Monday.
Deruty, Adams, pay attention; whichever one of you makes it to the finals, may the best man win. Let's make this a hell of a main event. Because we all know who isn't going to the finals, and who isn't the best man: Alexander Pasternak."
Speede reaches out and pushes a button on the treadmill, causing it to start moving faster. He holds the button down until he's moving at a pretty decent pace.
"See y'all on Monday, and may the State of the Locker Room be forever strong."
The scene fades to black.
Roy Speede plops down onto a bench in the locker room, his chest still rising and falling at an increased rate from the intensity of his last match. His face is slightly swollen on one side due to a backfist he took during his match. He leans down to untie his boots, looking over at the door to the locker room to make sure there will be no interruption from an interviewer, before actually taking them off. From around the corner, he hears a voice.
"Well, it looks like you made good on that promise to continue on to the next round. Camila will be feeling that for a while."
Speede looks up to see Alex Haden approaching him, arms crossed and a small smirk on his face.
"What's that look for?"
"I see the rejuvenated Roy Speede you've become since you signed with this company. The last time you were this excited about getting involved in the wrestling business, you became a double champion in the span of a couple weeks. Sure, I was involved, but still... You're in a position to go after the World Championship in two weeks. I want to be a part of that."
"And by that, you mean...?"
"I'm going to be interviewing with one of the aides Torture and Gravedigger have helping them run this place. I want to do something like this again, and Action Wrestling seems to be the place to be."
"Alex, you don't have any idea what you're getting into. he competition here is insane. I mean, Camila Gonzales was in her second professional wrestling match, and she nearly had me on more than one occasion! Once I get out of here, I'm due at the trainer's office to make sure that swelling isn't a sign of greater damage. Trust me, this place is the real deal."
"And I'm ready for that! I mean, you may have been the more successful one the last time we teamed up, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to let you be the only one to ever achieve any glory as a result. Hell, even if it means going after the 201 Championship, at this point, it's been six years since I've competed. Gold is gold, and if it serves as a stepping stone to get me further in this business than the last time, I'm in."
"Yeah, but last time you were involved, Torture was in charge. He's in charge again; do you really think that it's a good idea to let him decide things again?"
"It's working for you! When was the last time you were this close to a World Championship?"
"Twenty twelve, when I won the Hardcore belt... I was one pin away from the whole shebang."
"Exactly. And now next week you've got a match that can put you a single three-count away from it all over again. Think about it. This is a good opportunity for me."
"Fine, fine, whatever, just... just don't get in my way."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Last time we were a team, I never saw the big time, and I wound up having to fight twice in one night because you wanted to show the world what you could do. I've got a bigger chance. I don't want to spoil it because you're showing up here wanting to wrestle because it'll only result in me winding up in the tag team division again. I'm not saying that's necessarily the worst thing in the world, but compared to the World Championship sitting two weeks away from me with a nameplate already carved out in case I win, I don't want to screw this up."
Speede stands up defensively, as if indicating that he's weary of what may happen.
"Alright, dude. Whatever you say. I'll talk to you about this later."
Alex pushes past him and leaves the locker room, letting Speede get dressed.
"I swear, Alex, there's too much here for you to succeed; get your head out of your ass before you screw up for yourself and screw up for me. Even if I wind up in the tag division, I'm going to find a real tag partner, not a childhood friend."
The scene fades to black, probably so Speede can change his clothes without this turning into a porno.
---
20 February 2018
The scene opens outside a Dick's Sporting Goods store, where Speede is climbing out of his rental Honda in the parking lot. He proceeds across the parking lot and into the store, where he pauses and his eyes scan the entire store from left to right, seemingly searching for something. An employee passes, and Speede holds up a hand, getting his attention and stopping him from continuing on about his duty.
"Excuse me, do you guys sell athletic cups?"
"We do! Are you looking for any particular brand or model?"
"Something extra sturdy, I don't care what brand. The best one you've got."
"I think I might have just the thing."
The employee leads Speede back past some of the basketball and football equipment into a section of the store specializing in specialty athletic attire. Turning and motioning to the wall, Speede looks up to see a wide variety available, hesitating for a moment until the young man sheepishly grabs one of the curved pieces of plastic wrapped in a transparent packaging from its hook on the wall.
"This is one of our most popular choices. It's made with an industrial strength polycarbonate that should withstand any size ball without any harm to you, and depending on the accident is also pretty useful when it comes to falls and tackles if you're looking more at a football-type usage."
"Oh, no, no, that's not what I meant. Do you have any steel? Titanium? Heck, even a strong iron one would be fine."
There is a momentary pause as the employee processes what was said to him, and he looks at Roy with a confused expression as if he's sprouting horns or something equally bizarre.
"I'm sorry, a metal athletic cup...?"
"Yeah, for a professional wrestler. I want something that'll crack a guy's wrist or break his toe if he tries to attack my groin."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"My next opponent is notorious for cheap shots to the groin. I want to leave him hurting as bad or worse than I am, and a protective cup is about the best way to do it."
"I... I don't think we sell metal ones. I don't think they make metal ones, actually. Too heavy and more likely to hang too low in your trousers when you're running or participating in athletic activity in them."
"'Trousers? What are you, British?"
"Well, my dad is, yeah."
"Ahh well, at least he's not a Russian douchebag."
"My mom is Russian!"
"Oh, uh... So, no metal athletic cups?"
"No."
"Alright, I'll try this one. Got a strap to go with it?"
"Yeah, they're right there."
He points to a selection of jockstraps hanging to Speede's right, literally the next bay of products over.
"Cool. I can take it from here, thank you, mister..."
"Alexander."
"Of course. That's everyone's name around here..."
The employee walks away, leaving Roy to figure out his purchase for himself. After staring at them for a few minutes, picking a couple up and reading the labels of each, and pondering a bit more, he spins to walk away, the strap hanging around his wrist as he carries the athletic cup with the same hand. Making his way up to the front and to the checkout counters, he passes a display of wrestling gear, including pads and boots. He pauses and looks for a few minutes, when a familiar voice comes from behind him.
"I see you're getting some new gear."
Speede looks over his shoulder to see Alex Haden standing behind him, eyeing products as well.
"Don't tell me. You're here shopping for ring stuff too?"
"Well, kinda. I didn't bring my stuff with me so I don't have anything for a tryout, and I figure getting some basic, generic-looking stuff is a lot easier than flying all the way back home to get my stuff."
"Yeah, but seriously, dude, you're going to be way in over your head with Action Wrestling."
"If I remember correctly, it was only a month or to ago you were saying the same thing to me, from the comfort of a fishing boat no less. You want to talk about not having done this for a while and being out of shape, go for it, but it didn't hold you back any. I think I'm going to have a pretty good shot, whether you like it or not."
"Whatever, Alex. I've gotta get going. I'm going to study the gameplan a bit more tonight and see what I can dig up on Pasternak other than him being a slimy cheater."
"And how many slimy cheaters have had success in this business compared to the people that are honest and play by the rules? Look at Logan; heck, look at Torture and Digger. Neither of them played fair the majority of the time they were competing, and yet, here we are in their company! Don't you think the irony of that is at least a bit enjoyable to them?"
"Maybe. But look at the other half of the bracket; D-Day is in the semifinals, and he never cheated a single match of his life. And I'm here, and I don't think I technically ever cheated, though that duct tape thing I did at my first Pay-Per-View was kinda funny."
"Yeah, that was cheating."
"What, duct-taping someone's feet so they can't get up from the ring post?"
"Yeah, even if it was funny, it was cheating."
"Fine, but at least that wasn't a complete cheap shot. Look at Richards; he's out of this tournament because Alexander Pasternak wouldn't stop attacking his groin. I swear, it was like he was an outbreak of herpes or something."
"Did you just call your opponent this week 'herpes'?"
"I did."
"Then you probably ought to get some wrestling gloves and a long sleeve shirt so you don't get infected."
"Fair enough, my friend. Fair enough."
The two share in a laugh as Alex searches for his wrestling gear, and Speede nods his head, shaking Alex's hand before turning around and continuing toward the front of the store to complete his shopping trip.
---
Later that Day...
The scene opens to show Roy sitting in a reclining chair with a laptop in his lap, the sounds of a crowd and presumably a match or something of that nature on the screen. As the camera pans around, it can be seen that he is watching footage of the previous day's broadcast of Clash, particularly, the 'match' between Alex Richards and Alexander Pasternak.
Pasternak hits Richards right in the dick when he was coming down and Richards kneels over in the middle of the ring holding his groin which has now been attacked a second time! The ref gives a warning to Pasternak as he stands up and smiles. He grabs Richards and hits Cheeki Breeki Driver right in the middle of the ring!
Speede shakes his head and lets out a sigh that sounds quite stressed. At that moment, a knock comes from the door of his hotel room, and he hesitantly closes the laptop before setting it beside his chair and lowering the footrest, springing to his feet to approach the door. Upon opening the door, a pizza delivery boy is seen outside.
"Pizza delivery for Roy?"
"Yup, that'd be me."
"Cool, that'll be twelve thirty-nine."
Speede hands the guy a twenty and is handed the pizza while the young man reaches into his pocket in an attempt to find change.
"Don't worry about it. Thanks for coming up here instead of making me wait in the lobby."
"You're welcome. Have a good night!"
Roy closes the door and spins on his heel, setting the pizza box on the edge of his bed before sitting down next to it. He seemingly starts talking to himself.
"Ya know, if I were smart, I'd be laying off the fatty junk food right now. But I don't need to spend every waking moment at the gym; I'm Roy Speede, dammit. Alexander Pasternak won't know what hit him."
There is another knock at the door, but before Speede can even stand up, it swings open, and Nolan Walker walks into the room.
"Did you know Alex is trying out for ADub?"
"Yeah, he told me. I'm not excited about it, either."
"Why not? This could be a chance to reunite the old team!"
"Yeah, I'm not looking to go back to that place. I've already told him, Action Wrestling is a lot more dangerous than he thinks it's going to be. If he even gets past try-outs, I give it a month. And I'll tell you one thing, he's going to get stuck in the 201 division, and with the size of his ego and ridiculous self-confidence, that's not going to end well."
"Yeah, I know, but you need to support him, Roy. He's always had your back; now you're saying you don't have his?"
"In Action Wrestling, it's important to guard your own back before worrying about everyone else's. If anything, I think that if he makes it, you should ask Gravedigger or whoever about becoming his manager so you can watch his back for him."
"No way, man. I'm not getting involved at that level here. I've got bigger things to worry about than whether or not Alex is taking precautions in the ring. But still- hey, is that pizza?"
"No, it's a salad in a pizza box. Duh it's a pizza."
"Can I have a slice?"
Speede takes a deep breath.
"I guess, knock yourself out."
Nolan opens the box and looks down to see Hawaiian pizza. He shakes his head slightly and grabs a slice, picking the pineapple off and putting it back in the box as he speaks.
"What's wrong, dudeman?"
"I guess I'm just starting to feel a bit more pressure. I know I had a lot of eyes on me back in WCF, but this is different. I'm one win away from my first solo shot at a World Title, and I really haven't been this close before. I mean, I was damned close at one point with the dub, but... I have a shot this time. I can do this. I just have to get past Pasternak."
"And Deruty. Or Spencer Adams."
"Right. And regardless of which of them makes it to the finals, it's my time to shine, but Pasternak... I don't know, dude. I'm worried. I always get anxious when I know I'm up against a notorious cheater. You remember my fights with Gravedigger. You remember my Hardcore Title defenses. Those weren't even cheating, but I was always shaky before I fought those fights."
"You never let anyone see that. Why are you showing everyone your vulnerable side now suddenly?"
"I don't... I guess you're right. I mean, I made it this far, what's one more match? And I'm taking precautions to avoid getting myself hurt."
"Exactly. The Roy I know wouldn't let someone get in their head like this."
"He's not in my head!"
"Uh huh, that's why you ordered a Hawaiian pizza."
"Dude, pineapple on a pizza is good!"
"You said the same thing about cheese on a hotdog, and I can't stand that either."
"Whatever, dude. I think I'm gonna just take the rest of the night to focus on myself, and then tomorrow I'll really delve into studying and training."
"Alright, just don't let it go too long."
Roy grabs a slice of pizza, and the extra pineapple chunks that Nolan took off of his own, and takes a ridiculously large bite out of it, barely chewing before swallowing as if he hadn't eaten in days. The scene fades to black.
---
23 February 2018
The scene opens to the inside of a gym and fitness center. The camera unnecessarily turns to follow a pair of blondes in sports bras and yoga pants, zooming in on their rear ends only for Roy's voice to draw the camera snapping away to find him.
"I'm over here! I know, I know, I want to stare too, but I've got a lot more on my mind than the nearest booty call."
Speede is on an inclined treadmill, moving at a modest pace that doesn't seem to have his breathing increased much, if at all. The camera draws nearer to him and circles around to face him.
"Alright, that's better. I figured I'd present the State of the Locker Room Address a little early this week, since my brain has been exploding with activity about how to go about this thing all week to this point. We're finally seeing a few new faces roll into the locker room after a couple successful weeks for some guys and some much less successful weeks for others, and I gotta say, I wish these newbies luck. Some of them may even be hugely successful, but I can honestly say, I don't count any of them as likely success stories before seeing what they can do.
Speaking of likely success stories, let's take a look at that second round of the tournament; it seems like a lot of guys and girls that are getting eliminated from this tournament earlier than they'd like are having compensatory opportunities, and I kinda like management's plan with that. People like TFK, Richards, Dionysus, are all really skilled folk, and even Camila Gonzales isn't just fading from the watchful eye of the crowd. But none of them could get the job done at the highest level, and now instead of chasing the World Championship, they're going for a much less appealing prize in the United States Championship. Can't really knock a chance at gold, but this tournament is down to four, and it's really showing who in this company is slated to be the best of the best.
Donald Deruty, as I expected, is still going, and I think the sound of Deruty vs Speede has 'instant classic' written all over it. The underdog who managed to get over the hill, squaring up against the guy everyone thought would make it but who never did. Fans will be lining up for Revolution before the locker room at the T-Mobile Arena even clears itself out.
Spencer Adams is in the semifinals, and as I'm sure some are aware, 'The Antidote has been the more recent variant of yours truly- the guy who was expected to strike it big, but didn't quite make it on one of the biggest stages in wrestling. Admittedly, once he took the Gravedigger route and ran a show for a while, he seems to have gotten his head on straight and found exactly what he needs to be and what he needs to do to make it, but that remains to be seen.
Whichever of those two I find myself up against in the finals, we're going to have ourselves a hell of a coronation for the first World Champion. But you know who's not going to make it to that stage?
Alexander Pasternak.
Now, one one hand, I give him credit where credit is due, Pasternak has some in-ring skills that have bested everyone he's gone against. I would've expected this match to be Roy vs Alex Richards, but Pasternak found a way to get done what was needed. But let's get real, it was a fluke victory. If Pasternak learned to play by the rules, that match would've gone vastly differently, and after witnessing what happened, those two shots heard round the world, I know for a fact that I'm going to be ready for anything and everything he has to throw at me in terms of unlawfully gaining the upper hand.
Unlike Alexander Pasternak, I don't need to cheat to get the job done. Yeah, I'll admit that some unforeseen circumstances led to the outcome that occurred in my match earlier in the same evening, but taking a look back, it's quite clear that even without a little music playing over the speakers, yours truly would've picked up the win. Nobody is going to survive a headshot and a silver bullet and still walk away with the victory. Gonzales was already in position to take the fall; Lisa just so happened to show up at the wrong time. But, I guess there's a silver lining in that statement; Camila has a new tag team partner, and once Alexander Pasternak suffers the same fate, he'll be able to move on to opportunities more fitting of his ability level, once he figures out how to fight like a man instead of playing a foolish game like he did with Richards.
The difference is, I'm prepared for him to try to cheapshot me. I've studied that strategy, and Pasternak doesn't have an advantage anymore. The difference is, I've got the experience necessary to redirect his conniving misdeeds back at him. So Alex Richards, eat your heart out, buddy; I'm gonna get revenge on your behalf. Maybe you can get another opportunity in the future at the belt, or at the guy who screwed you over. But I'm going to shut his dream of being the first Action Wrestling World Champion down on Monday.
Deruty, Adams, pay attention; whichever one of you makes it to the finals, may the best man win. Let's make this a hell of a main event. Because we all know who isn't going to the finals, and who isn't the best man: Alexander Pasternak."
Speede reaches out and pushes a button on the treadmill, causing it to start moving faster. He holds the button down until he's moving at a pretty decent pace.
"See y'all on Monday, and may the State of the Locker Room be forever strong."
The scene fades to black.