Post by 'Jazzy' John McCarty on Nov 17, 2019 6:25:18 GMT -5
The harder she pulls his arm, the more McCarty struggles, until he powers out completely! He backs off, working the kink out of his shoulder as Jones climbs back to her feet. Jones wastes no time! She grabs McCarty and whips him into the corner. Defenestration with a handspring into an elbow smash -- but McCarty moves and she hits nothing but turnbuckle! Infuriated, Defenestration Jones turns around -- only to be caught with a swinging spike into a DDT! AD LIB!
McCarty with the cover, dead center of the ring, with her leg hooked! A frustrated Djinn Ricky paces just outside the ropes as the official makes the count!
One!
Two!!
THREE!!!
DING DING DING!
Jessica Kaine: And your winner -- by pinfall -- “Jazzy” John McCarty!!!!
----------
Another week, another win. What can I say? I’m just doing my job. I must be due for a push soon… all this momentum behind me. Jobber Dave, Night, Alex Scott, and now Defenestration Jones. It’s getting kind of boring being in the midcard… all these wins and I haven’t got any sort of title shot as of late. But, I suppose I can’t complain. I get what I get, and I don’t get upset.
*phone rings*
John: Hello? Jazzy John here.
Ivanova: Office. Now.
*hangs up*
Well… I guess I did get a little bit upset.
----------
We cut to John walking into Ivanova’s office, who has a sheet of paper in her hand. Ivanova forces the paper into John’s hand.
Ivanova: Please explain. ‘I’m stuck in the midcard’? ‘I’m one of the most technical wrestlers here’? ‘The crowd loves me!’? ‘This is just a stepping stone on my way to the top’? ‘Irina just needs to wake up’?
John: I can explain…
Ivanova: Are you questioning my authority?
John: No, no…
Ivanova: Well this paper in my hand says otherwise!
John had no response. He knew even if he did have a response, he probably shouldn’t say it anyways.+
Ivanova: Look, I don’t appreciate being told I need to ‘wake up’, just because things aren’t going the way you want them to. As far as I’m concerned, you’re staying in the midcard.
John: But Ms Ivanova!!
Fuck. He wasn’t meant to say that. It just slipped out. But he couldn’t back out now, he’s already started.
John: …Look, Irina. I’m one of the hottest superstars in the fed right now. Win after win after win. Surely, I deserve at least one main event, or any title shot! I don’t care what it is!
There’s a silence. John was nervous. He just said something risky, Ivanova could respond in any way, shape or matter. Will she listen? Will she fire him? Will she just not respond.
Ivanova: John, you’re getting a bit cocky. For the future, don’t lash out about not enjoying your spot on the card. Your time will come soon. But this time, I’ll give you what you want. A main event. Against Smith Jones.
John: For the title?
Ivanova: Don’t push it. But it won’t matter. You’re not gonna win anyways. I’m looking forward to seeing Mr Jones obliterate you in the ring
------------------------------
We find a room with nothing but a record player and a chair. John walks in with a vinyl disc in hand, and he places in the player, and moves the stylus to the edge of the vinyl. He sits on the chair and waits for the music to commence.
The bass plays. It's the beginning to the New York Ska Jazz Band's version of the Haitian Fight Song.
John: I've worked hard for this moment.
Silence.
The bass plays again.
John: I've worked to my full capacity, week after week.
Silence.
The bass begins to play the main riff.
John: Johnny Blaze. Night. Alex Scott. They've all been stepping stones to where I want to be. But now, I take my final step. I'm almost there. But what is this final step? A non-title match against the champ.
The trombone enters, playing the melody.
John: Imagine, just imagine what a win this could be. A win over the World Champion? That's sure to put me in the main event of Omega.
The saxophones play on the off beats in the background.
John: I said earlier, I've worked to my full capacity these past few weeks. But yet, I need to work harder. I'm the underdog here. The odds are against me. I'm viewed as a midcarder, compared to the 'face of the company'. But don't be surprised when I walk out with the win.
The saxophone and trumpet start to exchange the melody, which is filled with semiquavers, and the song starts to become more... Chaotic.
John: I'm usually a man who walks away in triumph, no matter whether I win or lose. But tonight, even if I do work my hardest, I'll be disappointed if I don't win. This match will either make or break my career. This will determine whether I'm a star or just a cocky bastard.
The trombone then starts to sound, playing the melody.
John: Yes. Smith Jones may have the better skills. Heck, he wouldn't be World Champion if he didn't. But I like to think that I'm more determined. That I've got more grit. And in the end, I believe it's that grit and hard work that'll get me the win.
John sits at the chair, and waits for the music to stop.
John: At the end of the day, it's going to be me walking away with the win.
McCarty with the cover, dead center of the ring, with her leg hooked! A frustrated Djinn Ricky paces just outside the ropes as the official makes the count!
One!
Two!!
THREE!!!
DING DING DING!
Jessica Kaine: And your winner -- by pinfall -- “Jazzy” John McCarty!!!!
----------
Another week, another win. What can I say? I’m just doing my job. I must be due for a push soon… all this momentum behind me. Jobber Dave, Night, Alex Scott, and now Defenestration Jones. It’s getting kind of boring being in the midcard… all these wins and I haven’t got any sort of title shot as of late. But, I suppose I can’t complain. I get what I get, and I don’t get upset.
*phone rings*
John: Hello? Jazzy John here.
Ivanova: Office. Now.
*hangs up*
Well… I guess I did get a little bit upset.
----------
We cut to John walking into Ivanova’s office, who has a sheet of paper in her hand. Ivanova forces the paper into John’s hand.
Ivanova: Please explain. ‘I’m stuck in the midcard’? ‘I’m one of the most technical wrestlers here’? ‘The crowd loves me!’? ‘This is just a stepping stone on my way to the top’? ‘Irina just needs to wake up’?
John: I can explain…
Ivanova: Are you questioning my authority?
John: No, no…
Ivanova: Well this paper in my hand says otherwise!
John had no response. He knew even if he did have a response, he probably shouldn’t say it anyways.+
Ivanova: Look, I don’t appreciate being told I need to ‘wake up’, just because things aren’t going the way you want them to. As far as I’m concerned, you’re staying in the midcard.
John: But Ms Ivanova!!
Fuck. He wasn’t meant to say that. It just slipped out. But he couldn’t back out now, he’s already started.
John: …Look, Irina. I’m one of the hottest superstars in the fed right now. Win after win after win. Surely, I deserve at least one main event, or any title shot! I don’t care what it is!
There’s a silence. John was nervous. He just said something risky, Ivanova could respond in any way, shape or matter. Will she listen? Will she fire him? Will she just not respond.
Ivanova: John, you’re getting a bit cocky. For the future, don’t lash out about not enjoying your spot on the card. Your time will come soon. But this time, I’ll give you what you want. A main event. Against Smith Jones.
John: For the title?
Ivanova: Don’t push it. But it won’t matter. You’re not gonna win anyways. I’m looking forward to seeing Mr Jones obliterate you in the ring
------------------------------
We find a room with nothing but a record player and a chair. John walks in with a vinyl disc in hand, and he places in the player, and moves the stylus to the edge of the vinyl. He sits on the chair and waits for the music to commence.
The bass plays. It's the beginning to the New York Ska Jazz Band's version of the Haitian Fight Song.
John: I've worked hard for this moment.
Silence.
The bass plays again.
John: I've worked to my full capacity, week after week.
Silence.
The bass begins to play the main riff.
John: Johnny Blaze. Night. Alex Scott. They've all been stepping stones to where I want to be. But now, I take my final step. I'm almost there. But what is this final step? A non-title match against the champ.
The trombone enters, playing the melody.
John: Imagine, just imagine what a win this could be. A win over the World Champion? That's sure to put me in the main event of Omega.
The saxophones play on the off beats in the background.
John: I said earlier, I've worked to my full capacity these past few weeks. But yet, I need to work harder. I'm the underdog here. The odds are against me. I'm viewed as a midcarder, compared to the 'face of the company'. But don't be surprised when I walk out with the win.
The saxophone and trumpet start to exchange the melody, which is filled with semiquavers, and the song starts to become more... Chaotic.
John: I'm usually a man who walks away in triumph, no matter whether I win or lose. But tonight, even if I do work my hardest, I'll be disappointed if I don't win. This match will either make or break my career. This will determine whether I'm a star or just a cocky bastard.
The trombone then starts to sound, playing the melody.
John: Yes. Smith Jones may have the better skills. Heck, he wouldn't be World Champion if he didn't. But I like to think that I'm more determined. That I've got more grit. And in the end, I believe it's that grit and hard work that'll get me the win.
John sits at the chair, and waits for the music to stop.
John: At the end of the day, it's going to be me walking away with the win.
