Making Their Way, The Best Way They Know How - Part 6
Dec 12, 2016 21:04:38 GMT -5
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Post by jamesradford on Dec 12, 2016 21:04:38 GMT -5
The First Arena
Elmira, New York
12/4/2016
James trudged into his locker room, snatching up a towel in frustration to wipe the sweat off of his glistening body before crashing down on the bench that ran along the far wall. His forehead still throbbed from striking the mat after Dom DiBona’s DOMIN8D, and although he was satisfied he had given his best, the fact that his shoulders just got pinned to the mat festered in the back of his mind.
Bobby Benson stole into the room seconds later, closing the door behind him before any of AWE’s backstage personalities got the bright idea of accosting his client with questions. Satisfied that the portal was secure, he turned to face his dejected associate, and searched for the words that would cheer him up after such a devastating loss.
This had been James’ chance to take home championship gold early, never mind the Alpha Cup Tournament, which James had successfully advanced in during a dark match earlier in the card. That match had been a completely different story than the match he had with DiBona seconds ago, having easily put away one Jack ‘The Bear’ Hugg to take his place in the next round. That fact didn’t seem to make this loss any more tolerable, however, and Bobby took in a deep breath before taking a step forward to speak.
“Listen, James...” Bobby began, hands moving around like jazz. “This isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
James head shot up from where he had been gazing at the floor, and stared a hole right into Bobby Benson. “What the hell do you mean this isn’t the end of the world! I needed this win, Bobby! I almost had it a couple of times too, but Dom DiBona got the better of me in the end, and now he’s going on to face Stoker to determine the first ever Paramount Champion, while I’m sent back to the beginning of the race to claw and scrape my way back up the ladder! It’s the worst possible thing that could have happened!”
James snapped the end as he angrily unwrapped the athletic tape bound around his left wrist. Bobby was pumping the air with his hands, wide eyed and animated, as if somehow he was trying to contain his wards energy somehow.
“Listen, becoming the first ever Paramount Champion would have been a nice feather in your cap, but it’s like I told you a few weeks ago, that’s not the real ticket. The Alpha Cup, James. You’re still in the Alpha Cup, and that’s where it’s at!”
James shook his head in dismay as he tossed the balled up tape into the nearby trashcan. “I don’t see how earning a chance at becoming a champion at a future date is better than fighting to become the champion now. How in the hell does that make sense?”
“Because in the Paramount Championship tournament, you only had to face the Paramount division, but in the Alpha, you’ll be facing everyone in the promotion and then some. James, just think about it. If you win the Alpha Cup you can claim to have a win over every single person in the AWE!”
James stared blankly at Bobby for a minute until finally blinking, and falling back against the lockers behind him with a deep breath that turned into a whistle. “I…I just don’t see how I’m going to do that if I couldn’t get past Dom this time.”
Bobby became flabbergasted, shaking his head and waving his arms wildly. “JAMES! It was one loss. Don’t let these people get in your head and damage all the work we’ve done! It’s alright to get defeated as long as you don’t let that defeat hold you down. You need to take this lump, and come out of the gate swinging.”
James nodded, though his expression still seemed skeptical, leaving Bobby to contemplate what damage control was needed here. A light bulb went off in his head, and he excitedly stepped over beside James, wrapping a wiry arm around his shoulder.
“I’ve got an idea.” He began with a soothing voice, “Why don’t we take a little trip to Venice Beach, and get you some specialized training from one of the best?”
James’ eyebrow raised as he looked down at the Cheshire grin of his manager. “And who would that be, Mr. Benson?”
“Terry Hero.”
Radford’s eyes went wide, and he pulled away from Bobby with a look of disbelief. “You know Terry Hero?”
“Of course I know Terry. He owes me more than a few favors, and once I give him the skinny on you, he can help elevate your game and give you the confidence you need moving forwards in the Alpha Cup.”
For the first time since they had started this conversation James hopeful. He was already starting to pack up his travel bag as Bobby stepped over to lean against the wall with a relieved sigh. Now all he’d have to do is call Terry Hero and get an audience, knowing already that he’d have to remind the aging legend of some of the deals he had made for him at the start of his career that gave him that distinguished status. It was going to be a pain in the ass, and might even require a little groveling, but as long as it was out of Radford’s earshot, that was fine. He wasn’t going to let his new protege get off coarse because of one loss, and what better way than to get a glowing recommendation from Hero. Even if that meant he was going to have to ram his hands up Terry’s ass, and work his mouth with his fingers.
Terry Hero’s Gold Gym
Venice Beach, California
12/12/2016
Terry Hero turned to the side and flexed as he gave the command to James, who had been working with the legend over the past week on everything from promo work to top wrist locks. When he and Bobby had first arrived, it didn’t look like Terry was going to let them in, but after a short call from Bobby, who reminded him of a video tape that was still floating around out there with a certain wrestling hero deflowering a young Kris Angel after a show, the gates promptly opened.
From that moment forward Terry was everything that James could have ever dreamed of, accommodating the newbies endless questions about the old days, while running him through drills on the way things should be done in the business. And if Terry ever got tired of James’ inquisitive nature, Bobby was right there with a scowl that reminded the wrestling hero of what was at stake.
The three men had just finished watching Kimitsu Zombie’s promo against James, and Radford seemed a little put out by her harsh critique of the South, but Bobby had already done his homework, and was quick to bring up material James could use against her. James didn’t really want to badger the woman who had obviously been working so hard to impress her Uncle Aoki, but Terry had forced James into his own personal promo booth, and was now standing outside the soundproof glass flexing, and shouting demands that James couldn’t hear.
‘Country Fine’ sighed heavily, and sat back on the stool inside of the booth, staring up at the blinking red lights that indicated cameras all around him. Bobby claimed they would edit it all later, but he needed to say something in response or be left buried by the fans that he claimed to do this for.
With a tight lipped grimace, and a tip of his cowboy hat, he looked straight ahead.
“Mrs. Zombie, I sure am sorry that is your view of me.”
James just shook his head in disappointment.
“I mean, you said a whole lot, and most of it was meant to be hurtful and shameful to me I guess, but I’m afraid that isn’t what I felt. Mostly, I just pitied you. I’ve always held you in such a high regard as a competitor, and for who you’re related to. The Zombie clan are well known all throughout the wrestling world, from your Uncle Aoki, to the legendary Tokyo Zombie. I guess…well, I guess I just expected a little more class from someone of your ilk.”
Another look of disappointment.
“You did a great job of trying to make me and my people look like a bunch of asses, but we didn’t really need your help, Mrs. Zombie. We’re more than capable of doing that all on our own. I’m the first to acknowledge that the South has a pretty sordid past, with a lot of dark spots on its history, but let’s face it. Who doesn’t? You pick me a place anywhere on the map and I can read you a history lesson of ignorance, recklessness, and irresponsibility. It’s true we take God pretty seriously in the south, but your people didn’t stop believing your emperor was God until just a few decades ago, so as you can see, people can be pretty stupid.”
James smirks a bit, rolling his eyes.
“You’ll have to forgive me for not having the same voracious commentary about where you’re from that you did for me, but I personally don’t believe that everyone is a product of their environment. You say I want to kill and maim, soak in the blood of my enemies, but quite frankly mam that’s just garbage. A good contest between two people doesn’t have to be some fight to the death, and can end with a good showing by both competitors if done right. For example, last week between me and Dom. We both tried our best, and for that night, Dom’s best was better than mine. No excuses, no rationalizations, just pure simple fact. I wish Dom the best, and the next time we meet, I can promise him he’ll get the best I got one more time.”
He winks followed by a half smile.
“But you, Mrs. Zombie, don’t prescribe to that notion. You think you have to go for the throat, or not at all, and I’m sure there are plenty of people out there that will cheer you on while you’re doing it, but by disrespecting me, you have disrespected yourself. You’ve made the mistake of becoming just like everyone else, going on to build yourself up by trying to tear me down. What could have been an enlightened individual with a unique style just crashed and burned upon mediocrity. Because regardless of what you want to believe Mrs. Zombie, I am different, and I’ll get by just fine on my own laurels and accomplishments. I don’t have to take away from yours, or attack your character to walk out to that ring with the confidence of a winner.”
He laughs.
“So many of you people have said that I’m past my prime, I should hang it up, that I’m just some punching bag for hire that got lucky. Well that’s all fine and dandy, but I’ve gotten to this spot, this moment, by paying my dues and doing what had to be done to ensure I had a roof over my back and food in my stomach. If that isn’t good enough for the likes of Kimitsu Zombie, if that doesn’t impress her much, well then maybe after I plow right through her disrespectful Ass she can return to her Uncle Aoki for a much needed lesson in humility.”
His eyes narrow beneath the brim of his Stetson.
“It’s not where I come from that makes me better than you, Mrs. Zombie. It’s just who I am.”
James settles back in his seat confidently as the scene fades to black.