Post by Carter Shaw on Mar 21, 2021 10:08:40 GMT -5
“A little higher...a little hig-STOP. Right there, perfect!”
Carter Shaw stands back, black collared shirt with Philidor-branded breast logo worn sharply. Looking up at a man on a ladder, pulling tight at a thin chain to raise the right side of a small ‘pocket aces’ decal.
The stage for Dice Roll was being set, Shaw deciding to work some fun magic within the confines of the Sahara’s gigantic basement. Having lived in Vegas for the past 6 years, Shaw had automatic aesthetic expectations when he knew he’d be producing his own little slice of AW action.
“Lock it tight, yeah, that’s it. Thanks Frank, can’t host a Vegas show without the illusion that pocket aces are comin’ your way,” Shaw said sarcastically as the man on the ladder locks the hanger in place and descends down the ladder. Christopher Shaw, Carter’s brother, comes over from the far side of the ‘stage area’.
“Alright Carter, I got the LED rig set up and ready for hanging.”
Carter doesn’t visually respond to his brother, nodding his head while still looking up at the ‘aces’ now hung to the left side of the entrance. Eventually he turns to his brother. Chris was clearly perturbed, looking into Carter’s wide, active eyes.
“I’m gonna take a lunch break, you want anything?” Chris asks. Bodies move around them as set-up continues to happen. Carter’s tiny smirk fades as his eyebrows drop towards his brother.
“Lunch break? It’s 11:45. We’ve got the fire inspection team coming at 1:30 for final approval. No lunch breaks, we need to get this done. I am not pushing the inspection a 2nd time, AW needs to know that I can DO THIS.”
“Carter, I’ve been here since 7am man. We’re just about done. You don’t think I should grab a bite now so that I can be here incase we fail inspection and need to work on something?”
The brothers are locked in the eyes, completely opposing vibes radiating off of each of them. Now it’s Carter who looks perturbed.
“I didn’t need to bring you in on this, BRO. I wanted to give you some work, but if you’re gonna be the only one to ask me about ‘lunch’, I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”
“That’s NOT fair. The only reason I NEED a damn job is because you’ve cast me aside from working merchandise and marketing for you! That was the plan, man, remember?! Now with Philidor, you’ve got everything you fuckin’ need, I get it. That’s fine. But don’t talk to me like I’m your fucking employee.”
Chris is heated the more that words come out of his mouth. Months of slow-boil tension finding the lip of the pot. Chris’s voice has risen enough to draw the attention of a couple other staff members working on the set. Carter looks around at them.
“If y’all want a lunch break, it can happen at 2:00! Let’s be set and READY for this INSPECTION.”
Carter sounds like a foreman on a construction site.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked to host a show in a FUCKING BASEMENT!” After a few moments of silence, Chris explodes and gets in the face of his brother. Carter remains cloaked in a tense calmness, looking his brother in the eyes once again and returning the ‘step forward’ favor, the two almost nose to nose.
“Maybe you should learn to fend for yourself instead of only getting work when ‘big brother’ has a project. MAYBE you should show a little bit more appreciation for the fact that you have SOMEWHERE to LIVE thanks to PHILIDOR. But no. You’d rather keep doubting me and keep doubting my decisions...”
Carter turns away from his brother, to point in a direction for one of the workers passing by with a small foam-core logo for Philidor. He talks to his brother over his shoulder as he does so.
“Help or get out, Chris. You want lunch? Fly back to Boston and buy fuckin’ lunch at the airport on your way.”
Chris’s fists ball up as a bit of a tear forms in his eye. He opens his mouth to say something but no words have formed for escape. He turns and walks away, leaving the production area. Shaw lets out a deep exhale as he glances over to his brother’s back but turns his attention elsewhere, getting right back to the ‘to-do list’ in his brain.
“Lance! Lance, I-”
On the far opposite side of the stage, Shaw’s old friend Lance has been watching the entire interaction between the brothers. For years, he was Carter’s biggest supporter and hype-man. Since Philidor, Carter hasn’t required his services.
Carter goes to bark an order at his old friend, but stops as he sees the look in his eyes. Lance’s head has dropped and is slowly shaking, radiating disappointment in his old protege.
“I need-” Shaw intends to ask Lance to pick up where Chris left off, but he can see exactly what’s about to happen...turns out to be a good read. Lance walks across the entire set, leaving the area in the direction of Christopher Shaw. Carter puts his hands on his hips, looking down for a moment to collect thoughts.
Sadness creeps to the forefront of his eyes, but it is quickly buried back within as he looks up and sees a man sitting with idle hands.
“You! Hey, brother, what’s your name?”
The man stands up and walks over to the ‘producer’.
“Gene. My name’s Gene.”
“Gene? How would you feel about being Philidor for the week?”
The man had no clue how to answer as Shaw nods at him, putting an arm around his shoulder and pointing off to the far corner.
“If you get that LED rig hung right beside the stage and the Philidor neon strapped below it before 1:00, I’ve got a $100 bonus with your name on it.”
Shaw slaps him on the back as the man nods with a smile and goes to work. The little smirk has returned to his face as he begins walking backwards towards the ring area to take it all in.
“Dice Roll: A Carter Shaw Production, presented by Philidor Holdings...” He says to himself as if introducing the live broadcast.
As the handheld cam goes live, the environment is a blur for a few moments as the camera is spun around to reveal the face of Carter Shaw. He looks into the lens as if he were filming a documentary, the background becoming a bit more clear. His house gym. A serious look in his face, he shows a bit more attitude than usual. The compliments of a black beanie hat pulled down on his head and a black sleeveless shirt make the blue waters of his eyes crash shore.
Let’s talk about perspective for a moment. Something that’s about as common as common sense, and Dandy is certainly not in the minority that possesses both. You look at The Following and you look at Philidor Holdings...you look at Dandy DiVito and you look at me…
And everything has to be black and white, right? It’s a world of angels and demons, wolf and man and everything is as cut and dry as the two categories of good and bad. That’s how it’s sold, ain’t it? That’s how it’s always been sold to me, so that it makes it much, much easier for you to categorize your competition.
The handheld camera pointing towards Shaw is like The Blair’s Witch Project, the uneasy movement through intense words adding a menacing future-viewing experience.
I’m the bad guy, right? Innocent ole’ Carter Shaw, the fighting spirit from Boston that came in, the bluest chip AW had seen in quite some time, is now the bad guy. Why? Philidor? Because I decided to sign the dotted line and accept a sponsorship? Interesting. In my MMA years, I signed alot of those, rocked some brands on those fightin’ trunks, and never once did I become the bad guy for adding money incentive.
But unlike in that world, in this world everyone gives so much of a shit about what other people are doing...Nobody realizes how much they base their own existence on the ‘what, how, why’ of what others are doing.
I’m a man who needs fuckin’ money to live. Is that surprising?
I’m the bad guy because while Samson Saltair and Peter Garvey powerbombed Wesley over and over again on the exposed wood of the wrestling ring, I took part by holding down Kemp and Dandy on the outside of the ring. For them to watch. To give them the best seats in the house.
Now I could use the ‘following orders’ excuse, but nah. I’ve learned to own everything that I do. I’ve learned to own the path that, at times, Philidor can take me down. But that’s what I need to do.
So when Dandy DiVito makes it clear last week that his only intention is to end me...when Dandy’s seeing red on his hands already before even getting his paws on me, does that not put him on the same level that he puts me on? In Dandy’s eyes, it’s justified, right? That allows him to recategorize it. To continue to eliminate the entire cast of various shades of grey and paint the black and white picture that lets him feel like a fuckin’ saint.
Dandy being a martyr for The Following is heroic.
Shaw being a representative of Philidor is evil.
Oh, to live in that clouded, self-indulgent head of his.
Dandy had his fuckin’ mouth wiped with a 100$ bill after suckin’ on his dad’s tit. He has zero perspective on what it’s like to be without money. That’s given him so much freedom to fail in his life, but he has the balls to look in my direction and say I sold out when, at 28, I finally got to see what it’s been like to be Dandy this whole time. To have that financial support. To have money to spend.
And instead of burning it by the bag-fulls with an attempt at a rap career, I’ve used my money for good. Use my Philidor connections for good. David Sanchez made Dandy look like a Fisher Price model when it came to being scum of the Earth, but I was able to put him away and stop an entire human trafficking ring. I SAVED THE CITY OF CHICAGO from the reign of crime and filth.
Did I get a thank you for that?
No, I was a piece of shit because I was backed by Philidor Holdings. Simple as that. Black and white.
If it’s that cut and dry, then there’s atleast one thing Dandy has to admit. Hell, that the entire Following collective needs to admit. That if you want to threaten to incapacitate me. If you really want to end my career, break some bones, bury the name Carter Shaw deep into the memory of AW lore…
In the end? I guess we’re all bad guys.
The camera shakes and spins once again, filming the floor for a moment before spinning right back around to Shaw’s face.
Let’s talk about one more bit of perspective here.
And that’s the perception of weakness in how I've used the All-In Briefcase. That it cowers behind Ash Blake. That it has become a Philidor prop. Sure. Like I said on Clash after Ash Blake won the AW World Championship, this briefcase has, for the first time, gone from explosive opportunity to an insurance policy for the brand.
I don’t base my value or standing exclusively on the World Championship. I know this is something Dandy and ALOT of people can not even fathom. But for me? Success ain’t just a gold belt. That does not diminish Ash Blake’s reign or the power it wields in this company whatsoever.
But what you perceive as weakness, I perceive as strength. When I started my journey with AW, I came with a list of values, a code of honor, and while you all may see that as a shredded document tossed to the bin, it’s not. I value loyalty. I value life. I value the art of getting better each and every day at something. Anything. Fighting, wrestling, learning. The World Title isn’t the end all/be all of such things, and Dandy’s belief in that is the biggest harbinger of his own undoing. He ain’t ever winning that World Title again and he’s stuck forever drowning in that well he tossed himself down.
I’m proud of where I’m at. I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I’m proud of being a part of Philidor and I’m proud of what Philidor has provided for me.
I don’t need the World Title right now to justify saying that I’m one of the best AW has to fuckin offer in that ring. I can swing the briefcase around all I want as a reminder of a past accomplishment, while the document within yellows a bit with time.
That’s my fuckin’ right. I earned that right.
And if I’m not fitting the mold of which you think everything should be executed in this business?
Who the fuck are you to make a mold of anything? Your expectations are not what I aim to live up to, I aim to live up to my own. I will never apologize for those dueling expectations being on different pages. Get your heads out of your own asses and take a refreshed look at the world around you.
I get that being in that ‘World Title picture’ is what Dandy’s been conditioned to believe is the only true success. Atleast with my own produced show and challenge, I give Dandy a bit of what he bases his existence on.
Just remember, Dandy. When Dice Roll is a huge success and blows both Clashes out of the water...you'll only have me to thank for making you look like a Main Eventer again. Enjoy the one-night stay.
Dr. Jared Brower, Philidor Holdings Psychiatrist, leans forward upon his elbows, all fingers touching at the tips. He looks intently over Carter Shaw who, for this appointment, instead of sitting directly across from his desk, now faces the other way in a reclining lounge chair.
“I just...it’s like I can feel myself changing. I’m happier than I’ve ever been with the support of Philidor, I really am, but at the same time I just feel myself getting...angrier. At the same time, does that make sense?”
“Ofcourse it does. I believe there’s two root causes to that anger, Carter. One is obviously the environment in which you work. It can be hostile, it can be judgemental, it can be harsh. Just remember who you are proving yourself to. It’s not everybody and it’s not all the time, do you understand?”
Carter slowly nods, his eyes in a relaxed daze.
“You said you feel yourself changing?”
“Yes. My inhibitions, my behavior, my-”
“You’re exhibiting a fear of change, Carter. You’re not changing, you’re evolving, remember when we discussed that?”
“I wouldn’t call it a fear, Doc, i’m not feeling scared of anything.”
“Well, people manifest a fear in different ways. With you, Carter, you keep alot of emotions locked up tight in a little box within your mind. You may manifest a fear simply by keeping it’s base root locked away in that box. You can never make peace with that which you can not confront. This is never truer than when dealing with self-reflection and analysis.”
Shaw seems a bit dumbfounded, the psychiatrist's words dancing circles around his head and entering his ear canal one at a time for digestibility.
“So what are you saying?”
“Let me ask you this, Carter, really think about this. Do you honestly feel like you’re changing? Or are these behaviors you’re alluding to ones that have always been a part of you. Maybe you’re saying things you’ve thought for years, but always bit your tongue and shied away for, what you determined to be, the greater good. Maybe, for the first time in your life...you are the greater good. Not everybody else.”
The height of Dandy DiVito is behind us. Ex AW-World Champion. Buried by the memories of the reigns of Walter, Alex Richards, FPV, Lissie Hope and, ofcourse, Ash Blake. It’s hard to imagine Dandy at this point reigning supreme over the roster. The ‘unmitigated gal’ that set him apart has turned into more of a ‘reckless abandon’. Like diamonds to sand.
Dandy’s days of fulfilling his self-stroking greatness are in the rearview.
And objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.
This was 2019 when Dandy held that precious gold. Roughly a year and a half ago. In normal circumstances and normal environments, that was practically yesterday. So why does it appear to have been so long ago? As if it were part of AW mythology at this point…
It all boils down to impact.
Dandy will throw everything at you in an attempt to stuff the stat sheets, but it’s astonishing to explore just how truly insignificant Dandy’s run in AW has been.
And that lack of impact is because of his incessant selfishness. The World Title? Became EVERYthing that Dandy was. So when he lost it in anticlimactic style to Lissie Hope amidst the Turmoil Tournament in 2019? Well...Dandy, as a whole, felt anticlimactic.
I can’t gloss over the relevance that being an ‘Action Original’ holds, it is impressive in this turnstyle of an industry to still hold name value today as you did in the opening chapters of AW. I’m glad you’re still around, Dandy. And through your ‘dry spell’ of 2020 to your DISCOVERY of the LIGHT with The Following...here we are. Carter Shaw. Dandy DiVito. Shaw Vegas Deathmatch…
The day your name value settles into the place it’s going to live until you hang your sneaks up and live out the rest of your days waiting to die.
The day your name value officially resides below mine. When I pin you, make you tap AND knock your ASS out for the 10 count...on the stage rockin’ MY NAME...in the basement of the fuckin’ Sahara…
Ain’t NONE of this turnin’ up Dandy.
Sort of like that day after Evolution 3…
What? You don’t know what I’m referring to?
Perhaps I’m referring to the fact that while this company was hot off the heels of its biggest show of the year, a stacked card executed flawlessly, a night where Dandy DiVito DEFEATED Roy Speede in the match that made air-quotes popular again, the “Main Event Match”...
““ ””
Everybody was talking about the Television Title Match that put Carter Shaw on the map. Your BIG TIME MATCH, where you were already starting to reach to maintain some sort of Mount Rushmore standing in the company, couldn’t even draw up the same amount of excitement that the triple threat TV Title Match could.
That was the day you realized that memory spans are short and an act like yours has an Enjoy By date within a year.
You didn’t excite anymore. Eyes were on a new crop worthy enough of demanding attention and the easy reign of ‘throne loitering’ you Action Originals became accustomed to finally began to crumble and burn.
Finally the house was full and you couldn’t get by on squatter’s rights. And once it caught up to you? You caught a whirlwind of losses as if you had forgotten how to rock-climb while halfway up the mountain.
Howard Black beat your ass at Execution, Ash Blake beat you at Clash 100 to retain the TV Title, *I* beat ya at a Clash, Lockhart beat you in that Ironman Match at Uprising...
Legacies are fragile. Almost as fragile as your self-confidence. Because that one little run of being unable to get the job done the way you wanted?
Well, you broke into pieces and along came Kyle Kemp with his trusty broom and dustpan.
Every career ends, Dandy. We all fall. Eventually. We never know when it’ll be, truly. Some guys, like Howard Black, lay out a blueprint on ‘how to ride off’. Other guys like Odin Balfore? Drive themselves into the ground over and over again until there’s nothing left and they’ve made a joke of anything they’ve ever done.
You? Me? I think we’ll probably lean towards that Odin end of the spectrum. And why’s that?
Because we’ve got...nothing...else. Fight. It’s what we do. It’s all we know. There ain’t no Plan B and there ain’t no net underneath to catch us. When we fall, we will fall hard Dandy. Harder than Matthias Mintzel shoving us both off of an entrance stage to put our bodies through the hardest equipment known to fuckin’ man.
Why was there so much shit over there?
You want to END me, Dandy? You want sweet, sweet restitution for Wesley’s incident? I understand and I welcome it. Hence the challenge. And hence taking it to a location that can be special to just us.
END ME DANDY, COME ON. If this is my undoing, poking the hornet’s nest of The Following one too many times, then so be it. I will always accept fate.
But know this, Dandy. If you end me, I’m takin’ you with me. If you want to make the name of the match career-literal, know that I will not leave without a piece of you still clenched in my fist.
If this is my downfall?
At Dice Roll?
A Carter Shaw Production?
Shaw Vegas Deathmatch?
Then Dandy, We fall together.
“We fear change because we can’t anticipate the outcome. It’s like a blind turn, you have to trust that the road is there to meet you, greet you and guide you.”
Maybe it is fear. I just don’t want to leave everything behind...but perhaps it is time.
“You have that road in Philidor.”
Makes sense. I am so grateful for Philidor and the life they have helped me lead. I’m able to do things now I never thought I'd ever be able to do.
My mother never wanted me to fight. She would’ve never wanted any of this. She had such higher different hopes for me.
“Close your eyes, Carter. Close your eyes. I want you to picture 10 steps in front of you, descending downwards towards a cellar door in the shadows.”
I see them. I see the steps. I see the door. I see the shadows. I wonder if Mom is down there?
“Each step you take forward, each stair you descend, leaves doubt behind. You OVERCOME with each step. Each step is a step towards your future self. Each step is a step away from that which holds you back. Every time I say ‘overcome’, I want you to take another step. Ready?”
Ready.
“Overcome”
Overcome Dandy. Overcome Kyle Kemp. Overcome the Following
“Overcome”Overcome my brother. Overcome my mother. Overcome Boston.
“Overcome”
Overcome uncertainty. Overcome my doubt. Overcome impermanence.
Wait. Why am I descending?
Wait. Why am I descending?