Pay it Forward
Feb 2, 2020 14:42:24 GMT -5
Psycho Vulcan Sentai (Kaz), Quixote Della Torre, and 1 more like this
Post by QDT's Mystery Partner on Feb 2, 2020 14:42:24 GMT -5
We open in a darkened room. A silhouetted figure sits cross-legged at what appears to be an interrogation table.
"Hello QDT," the figure says, voice pitch shifted and obscured. "You don't know me — well, you do I guess — but that isn't important. I'm sure you had it in your head that your choice of partner for this week was just that: your choice. I regret to inform you that isn't the case. I am the captain now."
A beat, the figure drums their fingers against the table.
"Saying that, I feel a weird deja vu. Maybe that's part of why I'm doing this, huh? Karmic rebalancing maybe. Though I guess if I start going down that road, I'm gonna have to put my neck on the line for a lot of motherfuckers. Don't know if I want to start a charity. So let's take it slow. Monday Night CruiserClash: JC Keeton and Graham Baker vs. QDT and yours truly. Little old me. The selling point. The intrigue. Who was I going to be?
"Who would someone like QDT trust to have his back when he's the King of a roster that would all see him strung up like Mussolini without a second's hesitation? Who would want to stand at his side and not take their shot when his back is turned? That's what viewers are tuning in to see in this match, old friend. For once, you aren't the shining star of the attraction. Of course, when I'm involved others seldom are.
"That's what winners do, though. You know that, I know that. That's why our likes will be champions, will have a stranglehold on the zeitgeist while Keeton and Baker scrounge and scrap for the titles of contender, of challenger, of fighter. Why they puff out their chests when they have nothing to show for it. Why Baker takes a couple love taps to the hacky sack so goddamn personal. Winners win and losers lose but winners learn how to win, right? No one ever learns how to lose.
"I'm going to be honest with you, Quixote. I don't care about either of them. They need to learn that this isn't about them. No matter how much they want to weasel their way into our line of sight, to splay themselves and wave their arms and scream for our attention, this will never be their moment. Like all things, it's about us. It's about who I am and what I've done and why, just why, I'm going to be coming to the ring on a Monday night in Detroit and watching your back.
"Because second generation schlock stock like JC Keeton don't move the needle. Because Graham Baker trying and failing to try and fail to take your strap don't move the needle. Wanting sportsmanship when gold is on the line, when immortality is on the line, when everything you could ever want is on the line doesn't move the fucking needle and this division, nay, this whole goddamn company needs people like you and me willing to do those dirty little things. Those unsavory actions that good folks don't have the stomach to do. Rome wasn't built in a day, and you ain't ever gonna win shit worth winning by playing soft."
Another beat.
"Maybe I'm coming on too thick now, huh? Trying too hard to endear myself. I do apologize, this isn't a role I'm used to playing after all. Normally I'd be content to let you hate me. Loathe me. I'd be fucking honored if your first instinct would be to punch me in my smug fucking face. But not this week.
"I got debts, and I'm paying them back in full."
Fade to black.
"Hello QDT," the figure says, voice pitch shifted and obscured. "You don't know me — well, you do I guess — but that isn't important. I'm sure you had it in your head that your choice of partner for this week was just that: your choice. I regret to inform you that isn't the case. I am the captain now."
A beat, the figure drums their fingers against the table.
"Saying that, I feel a weird deja vu. Maybe that's part of why I'm doing this, huh? Karmic rebalancing maybe. Though I guess if I start going down that road, I'm gonna have to put my neck on the line for a lot of motherfuckers. Don't know if I want to start a charity. So let's take it slow. Monday Night CruiserClash: JC Keeton and Graham Baker vs. QDT and yours truly. Little old me. The selling point. The intrigue. Who was I going to be?
"Who would someone like QDT trust to have his back when he's the King of a roster that would all see him strung up like Mussolini without a second's hesitation? Who would want to stand at his side and not take their shot when his back is turned? That's what viewers are tuning in to see in this match, old friend. For once, you aren't the shining star of the attraction. Of course, when I'm involved others seldom are.
"That's what winners do, though. You know that, I know that. That's why our likes will be champions, will have a stranglehold on the zeitgeist while Keeton and Baker scrounge and scrap for the titles of contender, of challenger, of fighter. Why they puff out their chests when they have nothing to show for it. Why Baker takes a couple love taps to the hacky sack so goddamn personal. Winners win and losers lose but winners learn how to win, right? No one ever learns how to lose.
"I'm going to be honest with you, Quixote. I don't care about either of them. They need to learn that this isn't about them. No matter how much they want to weasel their way into our line of sight, to splay themselves and wave their arms and scream for our attention, this will never be their moment. Like all things, it's about us. It's about who I am and what I've done and why, just why, I'm going to be coming to the ring on a Monday night in Detroit and watching your back.
"Because second generation schlock stock like JC Keeton don't move the needle. Because Graham Baker trying and failing to try and fail to take your strap don't move the needle. Wanting sportsmanship when gold is on the line, when immortality is on the line, when everything you could ever want is on the line doesn't move the fucking needle and this division, nay, this whole goddamn company needs people like you and me willing to do those dirty little things. Those unsavory actions that good folks don't have the stomach to do. Rome wasn't built in a day, and you ain't ever gonna win shit worth winning by playing soft."
Another beat.
"Maybe I'm coming on too thick now, huh? Trying too hard to endear myself. I do apologize, this isn't a role I'm used to playing after all. Normally I'd be content to let you hate me. Loathe me. I'd be fucking honored if your first instinct would be to punch me in my smug fucking face. But not this week.
"I got debts, and I'm paying them back in full."
Fade to black.