Post by jamesradford on Jan 20, 2017 1:59:22 GMT -5
The scene opens up to a close up shot of a tape recorder sitting on a desk. A finger enters the frame, and casually pushes the play button.
October 31st, 2016
“I want the best Benny Stevens and Carmen Cambridge I can get, because that means when I defeat you both and go on to become the Resilience Champion, no one will ever doubt the re-emergence of Zack Fantana.”
November 13th, 2016
"The lesson being: I run this division. Some of you are slower to pick up on that than others.”
November 18th, 2016
"And so the champion draws #1. Seems like they might take the word alpha a bit too literally around here, but I get it. There's a handful in this contest that need a handicap. I'm not talking about Sinister Minister's sidekick. I'm talking about the born losers and the has-beens that litter the playing field."
December 2nd, 2016
“There is but one champion in the Resilience division and you're looking at him. One champ and the rest have an empty plate, because the turkey drives are over, folks.”
December 15th, 2016
“You will make your mark on this promotion, I'm certain... But it'll have to wait. Your moment is not at Massacre #4. The world will be saved another day. For now, it rests in my hands."
Just A Few Days Ago…
“I'm going to clown Radford in the ring so badly that no one is even going to talk about that Hunter Storms scandal anymore. Things will all be back on track for the brand soon enough, because James Radford will once again be the underdog that the people desperately need.”
The audio ends after that clip, and pulls back to reveal James Radford sitting opposite the recorder, shaking his head beneath his trademark Stetson cowboy hat.
“That man sure does love the sound of his own voice.” Radford replies, a slight smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
He looks up just under the brim of his hat.
He looks up just under the brim of his hat.
“But that’s what works for you isn’t it Zack? Schoolboy humor married to narcissistic narrative, delivered in a passive aggressive package, with a bow on top that screams look at me, I’m worth it.”
James chuckles.
“Thank God I don’t need affirmation from my peers, but all the same, it’s always interesting to hear what people think of me. I was really hoping for something a little more original from you, Zack, considering your previous exploits with Benny Stevens and Carmen Cambridge, but I have to say I was more than disappointed. You took the same exact approach that Dom Lawson tried to take, except instead of making blatant accusations, you turned it into the form of a series of questions.”
James lifts his head, a slight shake of irritation before zeroing back in on the camera.
“That’d be fine if this were Jeopardy. I’m sure you’d do great standing across from ole’ Alex Trebek considering your extensive vocabulary, and your ability to weave adjectives together to make your opponents sound like an ass. But this ain’t Jeopardy, son, and the only prize you’re about to win is an ass whipping.”
Cool smirk.
“You want to overlook me and call out my manager, then be my guest. Go right on ahead and treat me like everyone else you’ve faced so far. I mean hell, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? Best I can tell that is your go to, your one true strategy ever since you set foot in this joint.”
James lifts his hand and extends his pointer finger.
“One; Talk shit about opponent.”
Adds his middle finger to the first.
“Two; Talk about how great you are.”
Ring finger makes…..
“Three; Repeat.”
James shakes his head as his hand falls to his side.
“And why the hell not when it’s been working for you? You’re undefeated here in the AWE, you’re the first and only Resilience Champion, and your star seems to keep on shining. So bright that you’re going to represent one of the owners at the upcoming Super Show. That’s the faith that they put in you, Zack, and rightfully so, because no matter how I see it, or anyone else sees it, you’re the man around here, and me…..well, I’m the guy with the shady manager and the blemish on his record.”
James hangs his head, letting out a deep sigh.
“But sometimes people just become too familiar with success. They think that because their on top today that they’ll always be on top, and so they don’t ever have to evolve. They don’t ever have to learn. Just keep poking away with that same old song and dance and everyone is going to keep drinking their kool-aide cause they just don’t know any better. That is until a stranger comes to town.”
James looks back at the camera, a smile crossing his features.
“Somebody who didn’t have instant success. Somebody who had to crawl through the muck to find their foothold in this business instead of just having it handed to them on a silver platter. Somebody who had to make compromises to keep food on the table, to make crappy deals with shady people all the while trying to keep from turning into one of them. Somebody, who according to you, is supposed to be an underdog because of the circumstances he’s found himself in through his career, almost as if I’m supposed to apologize because I had to work hard in order to get to where I am instead of just riding in on a white fucking horse like you did.”
He’s seething now, fists balled up at his side.
“This Sunday at Massacre, I don’t know how many of your questions are going to get an answer. I don’t know if Bobby Benson is going to compromise my own personal code by being the slimy cock sucker he really is. I don’t know if the fans will still be behind me like they once were, or if they ever really cared at all in the first place. And if I’m being really honest with myself, I don’t know that I CAN beat you, but Lord knows I want to Zack Fantana, cause I need it more than anything in this world, and that’s got to count for something.”
“After all, you’re the one at a disadvantage here. You've all but admitted you're guessing when it comes to me, yet you’ve already told us exactly who you are as I illustrated at the top of this program. Zack, if you want me to play the part of the underdog, then you have to face facts. That makes you the asshole that’s about to go down.”
Soft chuckle.
“How does that make you feel? I didn’t even have to cut this promo. You did all the work for me for the past several months with every shit thing you’ve ever said. Now that someone’s finally called you out on it, how do you plan on recovering? All those clever anecdotes can’t save you from the fact that if I beat you then I’ve proven what I said, and there ain’t no going back to that well again. It’s run dry. But that’s the big ‘IF’ ain’t it? Can I beat you?”
James takes in a deep breath, looking off camera with an uncertain gaze.
“There’s a whole mess of stuff I don’t know and I can’t promise to answer all of your questions, but I can guarantee you this…”
He looks back at the camera, grit and determination in his eyes.
“The only question that really matters, Mr. Fantana, is who the hell is James Radford? And that is a question that I fully intend to leave you with in that squared circle come Sunday.”
Southern charm smile.
“I’m sure it’ll take us all by surprise."
With that, James walks off camera and out of the shot as the scene fades to black.